Chapter Text
Hotlink’s personal datalog, entry #20975.1:
You know, my name wasn’t always “Hotlink”. Back then, when I was made along with countless others like me, we did not have names, only a code for function and batch number. Mine was SD979. The name I chose for myself came much later, but I always knew that I was more than a number or yet another knockoff that can turn into a jet, made to sniff out energon beneath the surface. I was made to create. To tinker. To invent. As soon as my operating system was online, I knew that it was my purpose.
The assembly line kept on spewing the identical looking robots, while an active one schlepped around, dragging a cart filled to the brim with photonic crystals containing frozen sparks. As soon as one of the blanks got assembled, the bot took a spark and inserted it into the spark chamber of the newly made one. He then checked a datapad in his hand, and went on to another freshly made bot, to repeat the process. The robot which had the spark inserted into his frame began to twitch, and after a short while, he stepped down from the platform the assembly line pushed him onto at the end of its building process. His optics were blue, like the shining spark he now had, and his paint job varied between two different shades of purple on jet-black. He looked around curiously, but got scared by the noise his new actuators and joints made. The bot with the cart noticed him and went back.
“Hello there, kid. Do you understand me?”
The new Cybertronian blinked in surprise and tried to form words but managed only a bunch of beeps and clicks.
“It’s all right, your speech protocols will start any time now.” The older bot waved. “I’m called Firefly. I will help you with your systems and find a mentor for you.”
The newly made bot nodded.
“Now go and find something to do until I come back.” Firefly ordered and left the new bot alone next to the assembly line.
The onslaught of information was a bit daunting, but the newly assembled bot - he learned in the meantime that his frametype is called a “Seeker”, and his serial and batch numbers were SD-979 - took it with ever growing interest. He also began to identify several of the machinery operating in the factory, and many of the tools lying around or being in use by other robots. SD-979 also spotted a single industrial robot that stopped working, slowing the whole workflow of the assembly line it was fixed onto. The bots working around that line were busy trying to figure out what might be the problem, so none of them paid attention to the purple Seeker casually waddling over - he still had problems with calibrating his gyroscope and his whole carriage - and beginning to open the malfunctioning industrial unit. As SD-979 quickly realized, there were several burnt out control panels and faulty wirings, which he suspected were the result of incorrect setup. He went and picked up tools from other bots and began to disassemble the industrial robot when he heard someone shouting at him.
“Hey, stop that right now! You’re going to ruin it!”
SD-979 turned with wide optics towards the bot who was smaller than him, yet he seemed terrifying to the young bot.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Fix it.” SD-979 answered. “Wasn’t it obvious?”
“Listen here, you flying piece of spare aluminium: no one touches the industrial units unless an order comes from above. The Functionaries will have your skidplate if you’re tinkering with expensive machinery, Seeker.”
“But… that’s my function?” SD-979 stood baffled.
“Seekers are not meant to tinker with industrial units. You bots are made to be messengers and to seek out energon the miners can then excavate.” another bot joined in.
“Where’s Firefly?” SD-979 stood his ground, but he began to be afraid of the bots surrounding him.”He told me he’ll find my Mentor.”
The other workers exchanged looks then burst out laughing.
“Oh, Primus, this one’s fresh.” The first bot hollered. “Your circuits must be scrambled from all the new data, kid. Go sit in the nursery over there.”
He pointed to an enclosure where several bots - all Seekers as SD-979 could tell - sat, stood or wandered about. They sported all kinds of paintjobs and a few of them seemed to bond over their markings, but SD-979 didn’t feel like going over to them. He vented and cast a longing stare at the malfunctioning industrial unit, then he went, still clutching his tools in his hands, over to the nursery and sat down in the corner. All the other bots ignored him, and he felt better that way. He began to search for his purpose in his databanks. Everything he knew about himself made SD-979 sure that his primary function is not seeking out energon and being a messenger bird. He felt a special connection with all the humming and buzzing machinery, the clockwork precision of the assembly line and the tools he carried felt like they were part of his hands. He was meant to - how did the aggressive bot say? - tinker with expensive machinery, whether some unseen Functionary liked it or not. Or maybe the Functionaries were wrong.
“There you are!” Firefly exclaimed when he finally returned “I see you already managed to get yourself in trouble.”
“Those bots told me that I can’t fix the broken industrial unit.” SD-979 pointed at the workers.
“Yes, yes I know.” Firefly vented in annoyance “Look, kid… I’ll be honest with you: No one’s going to Mentor you, so here’s what we’re going to do…”
Before Firefly could continue, SD-979 burst out wailing.
“Geez, stop crying…” The older bot groaned, but the new one just kept on emitting all kinds of mechanical noises and beeps while leaking coolant everywhere from his optics.
“I will be you Mentor until you are stable enough to fulfil your primary function.” Firefly shook the still sniffling Seeker. “Relax, you won’t be left alone or disassembled for parts.”
SD-979 leaned forward, touching his head to the glass on Firefly’s torso. He felt the other bot trying to prevent this by slightly pushing him back towards the wall.
“I need you to listen to me. As long as you are under my mentoring, I'm directly responsible for your actions until you are old enough to function on your own.”
SD-979 rubbed his optics with his hands and tried to calm down.
“What’s my primary function?” He asked when he was able to speak without glitches.
Firefly looked at him indifferently.
“Seeking out energon hidden beneath Cybertron’s surface. Also delivering messages and finding lost items or bots.”
SD-979 felt devastated.
“But…”
“What?” Firefly snapped at him.
“Nothing.” SD-979 felt it wiser to not push the topic further. He stood and followed Firefly, who began to walk away, out of the factory.
“You can leave those here.” The Mentor pointed at the tools SD-979 still carried. “You’ll have no need of them anyway.”
The young bot almost obeyed. He put the toolbox down but when Firefly turned away, he picked it back up and shoved it in his subspace.
Though Cybertronians grow up as quickly as an Earth week, SD-979 stayed under Firefly’s mentoring for several years, despite being in full control of his skillsets and programming. He dutifully joined with his fellow Seekers in finding fuel sources and delivering messages, but as he learned from those other Seekers, he was meant for more than that. All of them were. He heard rumors of one of them being accepted into some high-brow academy with alt-mode exception, and it spread like wildfire among the younger bots. SD-979 never felt like he belonged, and hearing the rumor was like adding oil to the fire. He already had a habit of tinkering with machines when Firefly wasn’t around, but after the rumor of this Seeker being accepted into a different social class, SD-979 spent all of his scarce free time trying to invent something that may grant him the means to break out from his current living situation.
He designed and made a tool that helped Firefly carry sparks around the factory. Firefly never used it, and called it a waste of precious resources. SD-979 tried to convince him to at least try using the tool and it broke after the first time. Firefly cut short any and all discussions about his mentee’s inventions after that.
“Stop this nonsense. You know what you are made for.”
“But I was not made for finding energon and being a messenger.” SD-979 dug his heels in. “I know it. Why else do you think I know how to put together these machines? How else do you think…”
“The machine you put together failed on first occasion.” Firefly interrupted SD-979 “You don’t know one byte about what you’re talking about, let alone doing.”
“That’s not true.”
“You have your purpose. Don’t seek out another one.”
SD-979 made a bitter sneer.
“I’m a Seeker after all…And I do seek a way out of here.”
Firefly laughed cynically.
“You know, you’ll have to do the same thing elsewhere. Your form dictates your function. It is the law.”
“Then that’s a stupid law.”
“And who’s going to change it? You? Wake up from stand-by mode, kid and get back to work.”
Firefly’s belief - or resignation - in Functionism was only one of the many reasons SD-979 felt an ever growing urge to be as far from his Mentor as possible. He went around, trying to find work in order to be able to get away from Firefly’s hab suite in the rustier part of Vos. For a long time, he had no luck. He even tried moving away to Iacon after a particularly nasty fight with Firefly, only to move back a few weeks later. It was worse than simply having his youthful pride wounded. A creeping suspicion of Firefly being right began to surface in SD-979’s processor no matter how hard he worked on proving the opposite.
But after all the dark times and fights, luck finally shone at him. There was an operation of grand scale, helmed by the genius Termagax, to convert Cybertron’s moon - well, one of the two - into a huge energon refinery, solving the urging problems of poverty and fuel scarcity for more than one city state. Iacon, Vos, Helex and Altihex all backed the project financially and with as many bots as they could spare.
Inventors were recruited into Termagax’s project by a three-round contest, and in order to get the job, participants first had to design and create an energon converter that was more efficient and environmentally friendly than the current ones in use. The best ones got into round two and so on, with increasingly difficult and complex assignments, until only the three best inventors were left. SD-979 was almost disqualified from entering because of his social class and frametype - neither being classified as Scientific nor having an alt-mode that was remotely resembling laboratory equipment - but he kept on pressing the judges until one of them - a senator Shockwave - let him enter his invention, thus forcing his colleagues to green light the “misguided” Seeker’s contest entry as well.
SD-979 barely believed his luck while he was tinkering with his solar powered energon converter. He was so immersed in his work, he didn’t notice the shadow cast over him for a long while, so the bot the shadow belonged to had to reboot his vocal processor.
“Hi! can I see what you’re working on?”
SD-979 raised his head and saw a peculiar looking bot standing in front of him. He had a battlemask covering the lower half of his face and his audio and radar sensors lighted up when he talked. But the really funny thing about him was that he seemed to turn into a vehicle instead of lab equipment as well.
“Um… I’m afraid no. That would go against contest regulations.”
“Your solar panel is crooked.” The nosy bot kept on hovering over SD-979. “And that control panel is incompatible with the socket.”
He was right, it didn’t fit. SD-979 raised his optical ridge and switched the control panel out for a smaller one.
“Thanks… Um…”
“Wheeljack.”
“Wow. That’s not a batch number.” SD-979 blurted out in astonishment.
“You don’t say.” Wheeljack laughed. “I have a name since I was forged. What’s yours?”
The Seeker turned away in silence, and that was all Wheeljack needed to know.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to be offensive.”
“It’s nothing…”
Wheeljack vented and patted the Seeker’s arm.
“Good luck to you in the contest. I hope we’ll get to talk again.”
“Yeah, that would be nice.”
Sometimes they met during breaks in the designated area contestants could use as a mess hall, but Wheeljack barely said more than a few words or a greeting to SD-979. Bots were excited, the contest was something never seen before, and even Termagax herself visited to see the entries. The first few bots who didn’t make the cut were sent home, the rest got a new assignment. SD-979 was happy to know he was there to stay for the next round, so was Wheeljack, who turned out to be Termagax’s friend and student. He was in the contest because he wanted to get into the project without help form his old teacher. SD-979 learned this while tinkering with his second invention, a security drone. The drone was a bit slow to react and couldn’t understand complex orders, but SD-979 was sure if he can tweak the drone’s system a little bit, it will be able to execute orders as well as a sentient Cybertronian.
Another bot befriended SD-979 during this second round of the contest. Scratch was small, but had two alt-modes, which made him exception for many of the Functionist laws. He could turn into a small geographic survey vehicle with a laser cannon, and a commercial drone. He was the smallest Triple-changer SD-979 ever saw. And also the nastiest. He always had something bad to say about the other bots, and their “lame” inventions. Though Scratch graduated from the Jhiaxian Academy of Advanced Technology with special honors, as much as SD-979 saw his work, he wasn’t that special. He just let his ego get the better of him. So in light of all this, it was a mystery to the Seeker, why the Triple-changer wanted to be his friend. But regardless, he was happy to finally have a bot to talk to. Scratch also helped him a few times when he was stuck with his drone’s programming or encountered issues that were harder to fix thus costing him more time. The deadline approached fast, and SD-979 needed help with a particularly nasty bug in his drone’s operating system. He had two options in order to fix it: ask Scratch, or go it alone and possibly lose this round. The purple Seeker decided on the former.
“I really wouldn’t ask if I had any other option.” SD-979 tols Scratch in front of the latter’s habsuite. “Could you look at the opsys, and see if I missed something? It keeps on freezing and shutting down, no matter what I do.”
“Of course I’ll help.” Scratch nodded “But you’ll owe me one.”
“Naturally.”
“Give me your drone, and let me look into it.”
This rang some alarms in SD-979’s system, but he was so tired of trying to figure out what can be the problem, that he ignored his gut feeling.
“All right. Here it is.” He handed over the small machine he carried around in his subspace. "Call me when you're done."
He came to regret his decision soon. After he asked Scratch to look into the drone’s system, SD-979 felt crippling fear that something bad will happen. He got a call from his friend two days later that his drone shut down completely, and not responding to anything. SD-979 went to pick up the malfunctioning machine and started troubleshooting all over again. He found many burnt out circuits and dead wiring, so he suspected something must have gone wrong with the energy source or regulation. He only had three days left until Termagax’s next visit, and the revelation of who will get into the final round before getting hired to work on the Moonbase project. SD-979 looked longingly at his recharge station - it was way better quality than the one he had before - and fished his trusty toolbox out from his subspace. No sleep until he successfully restarts this drone.
It took him two full days without recharge or refuel but SD-979 was able to restart the drone. It greeted him with an onslaught of error messages, but the Seeker was sure he fixed the power regulation problem. Now he needed to see what caused the malfunctions. He kept on working late into the night, ignoring his own operating system warning him of low energon levels. His vision became noisy a few times, but SD-979 shook his head angrily to make it go away and continued to type away on his datapad. He read every single manual he could find for the drone’s parts, tried desperately to find out if there’s an incompatibility issue or something with the software, to no avail. He was in the middle of coding when he shut down from exhaustion.
He came back online to the sound of a vacuum cleaner coming from nearby. SD-979 rose from his seat and tried to think through the burning emptiness in his fuel tank and the processor ache it caused. He opened the door of his habsuite and saw a maintenance bot walking behind the small, flat and noisy cleaning unit.
“Sorry, what time is it?”
“It’s 7 kliks past 9th cycle.”
SD-979’s systems went into panic-mode. Termagax’s arrival was scheduled for the 8th cycle after sunrise that day. If the maintenance bot was right, he missed the event by a whole cycle. He walked around in circles inside his habsuite, waiting for the inevitable message for him to pack his things and move out of the building, but around midday, he got a message from Wheeljack saying Termagax’s shuttle was delayed by some form of energon poisoning, so she will not be coming for at least until sundown. So he still had time.
The purple Seeker worked hard until he finally realized what was the problem all along: the drone he desperately wanted to revive wasn’t even his. He suspected that something was very wrong the first time he opened the sall machine and examined the removable parts. Many of those were knockoffs instead of the standard issue parts he used. The software problem was also caused by the drone’s processor being unable to run the operating system he designed for it. With another intensive coding session that lasted for several hours, SD-979 was able to recalibrate everything to the lower quality equipment and the drone was working as intended. He was afraid he won’t make it to the next round, but he couldn’t help but be proud of himself a little, since he managed to make a working security drone out of a heap of scrap metal and jambled codes.
It was time for the contestants to show Termagax what they made for this round. SD-979 stood in a long queue, and he saw Wheeljack getting the thumbs up from every judge. Then he saw Scratch talking with one of the judges privately, pointing at him. The Seeker had no idea what it was about and had no time to dwell on it either, for he was the next in line. Termagax and senator Shockwave admired the cheap looking, yet sturdy drone. Scratch then showed up, and revealed what he was up to all along.
“This drone is a copy of mine.” He stated with so much authority like he believed his own lie. “See it for yourself.”
Then he showed the judges the very same drone SD-979 gave to him for repairs.
“You lying spawn of a…” SD-979 exclaimed in anger but was interrupted.
“Me? Lying? You dare to accuse me, certified drone technician of lying about my invention?”
“It was mine! You stole it!”
“Yeah, suuuure.” Scratch laughed derisively. “I have degrees in data science and engineering, while you never even flew over an academy, but of course, I totally stole your work.”
“The drone isn’t yours. I gave it over to you because you promised to help me find out what was wrong with it.”
Termagax crossed her arms in front of her chassis and turned to senator Shockwave.
“These are dire accusations. On one hand, I’d hate to disqualify an innocent bot for plagiarism, but on the other hand, I’d hate to let a bot who stole another’s invention get the job on my project.”
“The contest is suspended until we get to the bottom of this issue.” Shockwave nodded. “Everybot return to their habitation suites! You will be notified when the contest continues. Feel free to roam around the city, but don’t leave its border until the investigation is over.”
“No one will believe you.” Scratch grinned at SD-979 when the senator wasn’t paying attention. “Everybot knows Seekers aren’t known for being intelligent. It’s your word against mine, and mine is the one with more weight.”
“You wish!”
“You know, SD-979 …” Scratch emphasised the batch number - “You’re already the joke of the deca-cycle. Nobot takes you seriously. Why push this nonsense that a dumb, cold-constructed Seeker can be an inventor? You weren’t made to be smart.”
“I hate to interrupt…” Shockwave inserted himself into the conversation “But this discriminatory speech is unacceptable here. This bot may be a Seeker, may be constructed cold, but he has a place here as long as he fulfils all criteria. Which he does.”
“And what will happen if it turns out he doesn’t have a single original idea?” Scratch tilted his head to be able to look the larger senator in the optic.
“That is not for you to decide.” Shockwave responded coldly. “Return to your habsuite and refrain from contacting the other contestants.”
Scratch left, but the creeping suspicion that he somehow will try to manipulate the judges to his advantage stayed with SD-979 throughout the investigation.
In the end, Scratch got what he deserved. SD-979 heard that he was caught red-handed when he confessed to another contestant that he indeed stole “the dumb knockoff’s rudimentary security system”, and used it to get him kicked out by accusing him of plagiarism. Shockwave announced that Scratch of Vespertine Blue will be disqualified for “conduct that is unbecoming of the nature of this contest.” SD-979 was accepted into the final round. He couldn’t believe his audioreceptors, and for a moment he was afraid his spark would fly out of its casing.
“If what Scratch said about your education is true” Shockwave approached the Seeker before the contest’s results were announced “I can arrange a place for you in the Jhiaxian Academy of Advanced Technology. You don’t have to be an Outlier to get accepted.”
“But I could never afford the tuition fee.” SD-979 deflated after the initial wave of happiness gave way to his rational side.
“Don’t worry about that. If you win this contest, you’ll get a well-paying job on Termagax’s Moonbase project. And even if you fail, you will be noticed by bots in the technological field. And since I’m close with the headmaster of the Academy, I can say a few good words to him about you.”
“But why would you do this?”
The senator looked around before turning back to the Seeker.
“New times are coming. Soon, Functionism and its oppressive ideology will be nothing more than a bad offline hallucination. And I need bots with your wits and intelligence.”
The conversation made SD-979 think. Though he lost the contest’s final round, true to his word, senator Shockwave got him into the Jhiaxian Academy of Advanced Technology for a semester, and after he graduated, SD-979 could say he was a certified mechatronic engineer. He also got the job on the Moonbase after the first facility’s success, and the building of another one. He was content with how things were, maybe for the first time in his life.
“This carefree attitude is becoming of you.” Wheeljack joked when he met his new co-worker on his first day.
“Thanks. I’m much more confident in my skills now, than I was during the contest.”
“What Scratch did to you was a disgrace.”
“Let’s leave the past in the past.” SD-979 vented.
Wheeljack nodded and gave the new bot a tour of the facility. No matter how impressive SD-979 found the building and the inventions used, he couldn’t help but notice the large spikes on the roof and every other surface.
“Someone really doesn’t want flyers to sit where they shouldn’t.” He grumbled. Wheeljack motioned for him to follow, and climbed a staircase to the rooftop. They saw Cybertron in the distance, reflecting Hadean’s golden light. Wheeljack began to kick one of the spikes until it loosened enough to be safely removed. SD-979 joined in, and soon they freed a little space they both could sit on.
“Well, welcome to Moonbase One.” Wheeljack greeted SD-979 with offering a small cube of energon. “No matter what, we’ll make it work.”
“Thanks.” The Seeker accepted the offering, and raised the cube for a toast. “No matter what, then.”
They sat admiring their home planet for a long while. SD-979 felt more at home in those moments than he ever did before. He heard about the increasing tension between the Functionist government and the general population, but from here, the whole thing seemed so far away. Like senator Shockwave’s prediction for a better world had already been made reality.
He didn’t have to wait for long to wake from this cozy dream.