Transformers Short Story

Match Made

GoldLine raced up the steps, reaching them before both her Creators and turning to look over the packed streets of Cybertron's Capital with awe. She giggled when her Creators finally reached her and then dashed off, tugging on the large front doors with effort to hold them open for the two mechs. Her Sire smiled briefly at her, nodding his thanks while her Carrier gently tugged her inside, scolding her for running off. GoldLine fidgeted, "But you were walking so slow and I wanted to get the door!" Ratchet raised his optic ridges and GoldLine deflated under his stare, "Okay, I won't do it again." Ratchet nodded his helm in satisfaction, flicking her audio fins with a teasing smile, "Alright, alright, go play." GoldLine rubbed at her audio fin with a dirty look his way, racing off before he could call her back. GoldLine looked around the first level of the Halls with deft optics, trying to pinpoint where a certain mech was. "Found you!" GoldLine startled and spun around to face Swerve, his intake pulled back into a large smile as he chuckled at her expression, "Come on, let's get out of here before we're needed again." GoldLine laughed, pulling the brightly colored mech along with her as they crowded to the back of the library. They passed another group of younglings but ignored them in favor of occupying the cushioned seats near the race section where a large screen was playing the replays of the latest win. A bright pink femme sporting a large trophy crowded the monitor, her optics a dazzling white compared to the reporter's blue, "Tell me about your latest race....how does it feel to be the new record setter on the track?" The femme shifted the trophy and paused to think over her words, "It feels amazing, I wouldn't be here without my crew and everyone's support back home!" She raised the trophy as cheers erupted from behind her. The reporter smiled politely, "Is this the first of many records to be broken by you?" The femme smiled softly, "We'll see where the road takes me...my goal is to become the best racer I can be, and if that means breaking records...well...records will be broken!" The reporter turned away from the femme and smiled at the camera her denta gleaming, "Records will certainly be broken bots. Our racing community has grown in popularity since the retirement of the one of its more prominent racers, Lightning. The famously known mech became the face of Velocitron and since then has made the racing industry a worthy story!" The screen changed and the beginnings of another race appeared. Swerve recycled his optics, "I've seen this one...come on, let's go see what our Creators are doing...I want to ask my Sire about that femme." GoldLine shrugged, following after the mech as he retracted his steps back to the main room, "I don't know where they went." Swerve hummed, glancing down the halls to where the more important meetings were held, "You think there down there?" GoldLine pursed her derma, "Do you know what they were meeting about?" Swerve shook his helm, "My Sire said it wasn't anything official...just that he had something to talk to with your Creators." GoldLine tilted her helm, looking to the secluded hall again, "Well, we can look then." Swerve hesitated but eventually agreed. The two younglings walked cautiously down the hall till they heard familiar voices, crowding to the nearest door. Lightning was speaking, his voice pleasant, "I know what the council has been saying and I wanted to address to you two simply..." Ratchet's amused tone stopped the mech, "You mean the match making the Council's been up to?" Lightning chuckled, "Yes, that...this isn't something your considering right?" Ratchet actually laughed at that, "Absolutely not, our femme has every right to choose who she wants to be sparkmates with, if she chooses at all." Lightning seemed to relax at his response, his own laughter spilling out, "Good, good. I was worried a decision would be made at the next meeting while I am away." Both younglings stiffened at their Creators words, turning to each other with wide eyes and disgusted looks. GoldLine blinked, mortified, "They were gonna make us be sparkmates?" Swerve shook his helm, "I don't want a sparkmate." GoldLine agreed hurriedly, "Never, there a lot of work." Swerve wrinkled his olfactory system, "You're right and I could never be with you like that." GoldLine raised her optic ridges with a tease, "What's so bad about me, huh?" Swerve chuckled, his own tone teasing, "You're too tall." GoldLine puffed up, "Well, you're too obsessed with racing." Swerve pouted, "I'm not obsessed.....you-you're to bossy." GoldLine mocked hurt, "What!? Bossy, no I'm not...you just listen to everything I say anyway." Swerve shook his helm with a smile, "I don't...I have my own ideas...you're just a know-it-all." The white and gold femme smirked, "You mean I'm smart." Their raised voices must have alerted the bots because the meeting room was opened and the three mechs were staring at them in amusement, watching the last of their banter. Swerve huffed, "Well maybe you're smart but I'm faster." GoldLine rose to her full height, "Prove it." She tagged the mech and raced away, laughing at his surprise, "First one to the monitor wins!" Swerve scowled, before noticing the mechs, muttering to his Sire, "Never make me be her sparkmate." The youngling spun on his heels and rushed after the femme, leaving the Creators to laugh to themselves.