Two hundred and fifty thousand mecha live on the surface of Cybertron today. Yeah, Ah know, that's not a lot. There used ta be more of us, ya know. Used tah be hardly able to walk down the streets of the old cities without bumping into another mecha. At least that's what it says in the Archives anyway.
Ya see, Cybertron used tah be a thriving techno-empire..that is until the First Great War. The warframes, the old ones anyway, were unhappy with their lot in life and decided ta band togetha under one mech, some massively popular gladiator, to throw away the Functionalist cast system. Now, Ahm all for fighting fah yar freedom...but, they didn't stop there. They didn't stop when the old system and the mechs running it were destroyed, causing the ones that had fought for the Senate to rise up against them, tah protect all life. Or at least that's what Ah could decipher from the old texts. Kinda hard ta read when most knowledge of that script is lost, so Old Neocybex is really hard ta read unless ya have old mods like some of the Ancient ones that survived from that Era.
A mech grunted as he used a broken pole to swing up onto the roof of a decrepit building, pausing to tap the side of his helm while crouching down, gazing around carefully. His visor flared briefly, a scan activating as the mech looked around trying to detect any other living life forms within the decaying city block around him. One could never be too careful, especially with old insurgence groups running around from the factions of the past Great War. That and other scavengers like himself, survivors were more deadly than the Wastelands outside the old cities. The scavenger swore softly as he ducked behind a support pillar while activating his cloaking mods and clinging to the metal with his magnets, vents stuttering to a stop as he held his breath.
There was a moment of silence before a shrill screech sounded as a impossibly lanky and thin figure leapt onto the roof where he had been before. It loosely resembled a mono-framed mechanoid, seemingly stretched out in sharp angles and long limbs. It's abdomen hung low, brushing the rusted roofing as the creature crouched, its opticless helm raised as if it was smelling the air before the odd crest that made up the top of its helm flared out as it scanned the roof around it. It's claws tapped lightly on the roof's plating, briefly brushing across the grey limb of a long dead mech as it unhinged its large jaw to let out a loud screech, which was answered by multiple screeches throughout the decrepit city, which used to be Kaon.
The scavenger held his vents in more, ignoring the 'Imminent overheating alert' that popped up on his HUD while waiting for the Hunter to leave the rooftop. Yeah, the old cities were semi-safer then the Wastelands...only if a Hunting Party isn't coming through. He swore mentally at himself in his helm while waiting nervously as the Insecticon crept around the rooftop, probably trying to pick up his scent trail. Slowly, the mech pulled on servo from the strut he had climbed up before ever so slowly reaching into his sub-pocket and pulled out an rusty t-cog he had pulled from another dead mech in hopes of salvaging it for trade.
Softly praying this would work, he threw the t-cog and waited as it sailed through the air before clanging loudly against the side of another building across the street. He waited with baited breath as he watched the Hunter from his hiding spot, waited for it to take the bait. The thing had whipped its helm around when it heard the loud clang before letting out a rattling hiss as the series of clinks and clanks of the t-cog falling sounded like fleeing prey. Acid dripped slowly from its large jaws, welling up from the hug sac hanging low from its abdomen up into its mouth as hunting instinct took over. With a plate rattling screech, it leapt off the roof after the falling t-cog, smashing through a pile of dead mechs as it dove into the alley the part had fallen into.
The scavenger breathed a soft sigh of relief as he let his vents come back on, though made sure to keep them low and slow even if it took longer for him to cool back off. Better overheat then become Hunter food. Slag, why hadn't any of the other nomads warned him that a Pack had moved into Kaon?! Making a note on his thought tree to ask later, the small mech cautiously continued to make his way out of the city, being sure to silently place his Warning Tag at the entrance to the city as he left. Couldn't have another scavenger get eaten now could he?
Yeah, life after the Migration hasn’t been all gold, ya know. Don’t know what that is? The Great City Migration, or the Migration was when many of the city-states left Cybertron instead of being pulled into the war. Though, it wasn’t just city formers that left with their charges. No, some groups pulled together and left as well- like the Circle of Light is mentioned in some of the older archives tah have taken many of the medics and scientists before leaving Cybertron. Yup, lots of mecha left during the middle of the First Great War. Though the most impacting of them was tha great cities such as Vos, Praxus and Protihex. The Migration was tha ancients response to the Fall of tha Four Cities: Kaon, Helex, Tarn and Tesarus, accordin’ ta texts Ah could find Vos almost became the fifth city ta fall in the begining of tha war.
Ya don’t realize how many mechs live in city-formers until tha colossal beings take off one day after recalling all their citizens. Cybertron’s population dropped by almost half that day accordin’ tah the Archives Ah’ve dug up. Both sides were scrambling to claim the rest left behind Ah guess, cause when tha Neutral Territories closed themselves off, another fifth of the population had already been killed with the Highway Bombings. Which, cut off most routes in and out of the remaining cities, towns and provinces.
The War continued with both sides losing many of their forces, until the loss of the Victory and the Ark when the two command staff of both sides went out in search of energon for their starving troops. It was a mad scramble as both sides started falling apart at the seams without both influential leaders to hold their respective armies together. It’s still unknown if the two command units destroyed each other or if they are just simply light years away from Cybertron. Who knows, maybe they are crashed on some backwater planet?
But, when the Factions started fallin’ apart is when Cybertron started to get real deadly. The Cons released their failed experiments upon the planet in hopes of killing off the Bots, and failed spectacularly. The Insecticons, as the experiments were called, are clones, or hybrids Ahm not really sure, made from the unholy merging of thousands of captured mechs with CNA extracted from the old husks of their long dead ancestors, the original Insecticons. Learned about that after meeting this Ancient back in the day after dodging a Hunting Party. Ah really don’t wanna know what those things looked like considering the horrors we live with daily on this Smelting Pit. Especially considering that the terrors we deal with are mutants that rapidly evolved after being released by the fragger that made them.
Ah would love ta have been the mech ta have killed that fragging piece of Pit Spawn. Seriously, who thinks unleashing abyssal horrors is a good idea? Especially when then things can’t tell friend from foe and will eat anything in their path? Yeah, not a smart move on their part.
The mech waited until he was well outside of the range of the city before transforming until his alt mode and driving off into the Wastes. He winced when his hover turbines kicked up some acid from a puddle from the last acid rain shower. Scrap, looked like he would have to update his painting again later if he felt that sting, the protective coating must have worn off.
Grumbling lightly to himself, the scavenger pulled up the list of materials he needed to fix up the old junker ship he uncovered. The mech hoped he could fix the rust bucket up and get the frag off this dying planet, even if the planet itself was no longer dying. More like those that lived on it, at least the fully sentient ones, were dying out. Either hunted down by the Insecticons that took over most of the planet, hunted by each other, killed off by the ‘Factions’ or just never returned after wandering out into the Wastes. There were some horrors that skulked in the Wastes that even the bravest mech feared.
He groaned mentally as he saw he still needed a bunch of slag to even hope of getting the junker in the air. A bunch of transistors, a new power core and back up power cells, yards of new cables and wires, a new motherboard for the navigations, parts for the energon processor, and much more slag. Pulling up his Inventory list on his HUD, the mech groaned again as he saw he only had a quarter of the stuff he needed and a bunch of junk to either trade or macgyver into parts he needed.
He knew he shouldn’t have stopped to shift through that old library he had found for more Old Script to decipher. Sadly, the silver mech loved learning about the Lost Past of his people. Especially after stumbling upon the old Gladiator Pits the first time he went into Kaon when he first began scavenging. There was just so much he didn’t know about the world he lived in and the mech hoped that some of the stuff he found from the Past would help him get off this planet.
Anyway, yar probably wondering what the frag yar listening tah. This is mah journal if ya will, and if yar listening tah this….Well Ahm most likely dead and ya pulled this from mah grey frame. Name’s Jazz, by tha way, and ah would say its nice ta meet ya. But, is it really?