Life of a Quintesson

Part 6.

* * * *

I had gathered everything that I considered worth keeping and placed my items into storage cubes, shutting them when they were at full capacity. I am finished with this place, I can take the corruption here no longer. Master was surely much more tolerant of these sinister beings than I am. Once I had gathered everything I needed in both my laboratory and my chamber, I took the storage cubes out and loaded them into one of the barely used ships.

I am leaving this world, and I may have a possible idea for a new home. A world known as Cybertron, one very similar to this one with individuals similar to myself. I had studied the planet in question for stellar cycles and discovered that it has many of the resources I use for my experiments, it was to say without question it would make an exceptional new home planet.

With all of my necessary things on the ship, there was only one thing left that required transport. That being the Predacons cloning chamber. It was far too heavy to carry on my own, that meant I had to improvise. I needed to use one of my masters inventions, a patch that once applied to anyone or thing, it would hover like the other Quintessons could. Applying the patch onto the cloning chamber, it began to hover and became almost weightless. I needed to move quickly as unhooking the chamber could endanger the developing Predacon inside, although not nearly as endangering as removing her from her chamber completely.

I transported the cloning chamber to the ship and was nearly inside when a familiar dreadful voice spat behind me.

"WHERE do you think YOU'RE going?"

I stopped, turning to scowl at my sister.

"I don't see how that's ANY of your damn business." I growled.

She frowned, "You realize that if you leave, you will be killed on sight if you ever return here?"

I could not help but laugh at her statement.

"I WON'T return. Besides, if your men could not handle me now, what makes you think they will be able to handle me if I ever DID return?"

I left her speechless as I entered my chosen vessel, shutting the door in her sorry faceplates. I moved the cloning chamber into the ships main cockpit, there it had the proper attachments and power supply for it to be functional. Once everything was hooked up, the cloning chamber came back online and began bubbling as it usually did. That was a relief. Her vital signs appeared stable, no complications detected, everything was normal.

I approached the vessels control panels and observation window and typed in a series of symbols, the engines were heard coming online and humming loudly. I may have isolated myself in my laboratory most of the time, but I have read instruction manuals on how to properly fly and operate a vessel. The ship began its ascension and the planet below became smaller and smaller, a good sign so far. I glanced over my shoulderplate towards the developing Predacon sparkling.

"Today we begin a new life, little one." I said.

I piloted the ship forward, leaving the planet Quintessa behind us.

* * * *

Began a new life I did. On the way to Cybertron, I had decided to go by the designation "Nex" instead of Nexus. One thing my maker did that to me was questionable was name me after one of the Thirteen Primes, Nexus Prime. I had always wondered why he had done that, but I had never hated the designation. It was only questionable. And if I were to encounter any Cybertronians, which was very likely, I did not need to be bombarded with questions about being named after one of the primes, or be asked if I was Nexus Prime himself.

I was beyond bored waiting to arrive at the planet, I had run out of some materials required for another of my experiments and had nothing to do to keep myself busy. Checking on the Predacons progress each day, I would look for any signs of development but they were very subtle. But at the very least she had survived Quintessas ludacris action, the odds of such a thing happening are rather slim. Either Predacons are much stronger than I once predicted, or she somehow managed to beat the odds. Or possibly both.