Long one
Distance and time meant nothing to Vector Prime. For a long, long while, he believed hiss ability to pass through space and time meant he was the guardian of the time stream - the protector of his species from all threats and ills both past and future.
Vector promised himself to not become the control freak and dictator he could have been by allowing his people in the present, to deal with current enemies and issues. Better to let them learn from their mistakes than always be told “no” and kept from their consequences, because one day, Vector Prime would not be there to take care of everything.
However, being able to “foresee” the future, and “remember” the past as if it were yesterorn - no matter how many generations removed from his current location and era - meant all times were present to him.
First of thirteen did not make him a god; nor did it make him Primus, the one who knew all mech’s destinies. (Destiny was finicky - it could change upon a whim; always subject to individual choices and responses).
Still, his aloofness did not mean he could not have friends … nor that there were never any problems he could not solve.
Title:
Rating: K
Universe: Unspecified (hints of G1, Prime, IDW)
Characters: Vector Prime, Clockwork (DP)
Warnings: crossover with Danny Phantom
Summary: Even beings who can be anywhere, anywhen, need advice sometimes.
“Clockwork, my old friend!” The Matrix Carrier cried out, delighted to see the ecto-matter being still ticking-and-tocking in his watchtower. “I’ve got a question for you,”
“Vector,” the formerly bearded (and stooped) individual looked away from his view screens. “Is it about the Codex you commissioned from one of my people?”
“Codex? No, no.” Vector shook his head, “I’ve got a problem, and want advice.”
“Oh?” One black optic scared from before sparkling-hood, stared at his impromptu visitor, while the other, undamaged optic, studied the shifting timelines. “I see.”
“Yeah - one of my chosen Matrix Bearers keeps on dying. I’m at my wit’s end. Can’t continue resurrecting him - it will disrupt everything I’ve worked so hard to keep intact. But I also can’t continue safeguarding him every moment of every joor! I’m only one Cybertronian, and have a limited span of life.”
Both optics, an unreadable black, turned towards the conflicting events. “Have you considered never intervining, and allowing nature to take it’s own course?”
“Of course, I have, Clockwork!” Vector waved a silver hand. Monitors previously blank switched on, revealing an unsettling scene.
Nyon’s bustling dock was awash in flames. Flying attackers that would latter be labeled rebellious Transformers, Decepticons by affiliation, attacked the loading docks, stealing energon from the transports before they could haul their cargo into storage yards, shooting mechs that fled, destroying those that resisted, spreading destruction and deactivation everywhere they went.
One mech, a young blue-and-red worker, went down, trying to get friends to safety. The other two - a bright yellow and blue loader, and a pink-and-white laborer - fell soon after.
There the timeline split: In one (rescued by five winged individuals who carried the fatally wounded red-and-blue loader), a new Prime emerged, taking the fight to the leader of the uprising. In the other, no one came by in time to heal the gravely wounded mechs before their laser-cores fell silent and cold.
The scene where two of the three were reformatted into capable fighters, the battleground became a fight between two equal opponents, and while the war continued for an eternity, there were still worlds and lands untouched by the growing conflict.
Where no one living was recovered, the Decepticons quickly took control; establishing their leader as High Lord Protectorate, and Galactic Leader of All. On the surface, the uprising succeeded in overthrowing the previous Council, and - once certain purges had been finished - life went back to normal. On the surface, everything appeared better for the survivors.
Stepping away from the new headquarters in Kaon, starvation and rust set in everywhere else. Even basic medical supplies, regular maintenance, became something only a rare few could afford - and most of those were “elected officials” who stole all the wealth and energon from their citizens to feed Kaon’s unquenchable appetite.
Another step back, and worlds beyond the Cybertronian Empire began dying as all their recourse were stolen, taken to keep the lie going. Those in power ignored the double-standards they inflicted upon their own people.
There was no cure to the wasting disease.
“Have you considered letting him be?” Clockwork asked his timely visitor. (Truly, Vector Prime’s unexpected visits were always just about the time he wanted to scream in frustration, or die from sheer boredom. Guarding the integrity of the time stream, keeping an optic out for those who wanted to change the past, was a never-ending, but very demanding job).
“Yes, and the one time I did let him deactivate in battle, his frame was commandeered by the Quintessicons trying restart the war in their favor. Not a happy ending for anybot.”
Puzzles like this helped keep processors sharp. While Clockwork knew he was asking questions Vector had already considered, he had to ask anyway - sometimes the answer came only after several variations were brought to the mech’s attention.
“I assume you arranged for his successor too.”
“Hot Rod was no one’s first choice - but the only mech I could find able and willing to do the job that might end the civil war.”
“What about his protectorates?”
“Kup and Springer? Yeah, they helped keep Hot Rod alive and trained him the best they could, considering. Why?”
“Who were Optimus’ advisors and bodyguards? He seems to lack dedicated protectors.”
“Why ---“ Vector Prime trailed off. “He doesn’t have one!” Thank’s Clockwork! I’ll be back for the Codex later.”
(Later, turned out to be the one time Vector Prime brought a tag-along to Clockwork’s Lair. “This is A-3. He survived the Quints and established the Council’s predecessor.”
Clockwork took one look at the too-young-to-be-properly regal blue mech, announced. “Alpha Trion. A pleasure to meet you.” The first Cybertronian Relic thus made its way into Historical time proper.)
Later, Solus Prime - using the Codex only Alpha Trion could unlock - created the Forge, and many other items that brought about the Golden Age after she passed into legend.
Vector promised himself to not become the control freak and dictator he could have been by allowing his people in the present, to deal with current enemies and issues. Better to let them learn from their mistakes than always be told “no” and kept from their consequences, because one day, Vector Prime would not be there to take care of everything.
However, being able to “foresee” the future, and “remember” the past as if it were yesterorn - no matter how many generations removed from his current location and era - meant all times were present to him.
First of thirteen did not make him a god; nor did it make him Primus, the one who knew all mech’s destinies. (Destiny was finicky - it could change upon a whim; always subject to individual choices and responses).
Still, his aloofness did not mean he could not have friends … nor that there were never any problems he could not solve.
Title:
Rating: K
Universe: Unspecified (hints of G1, Prime, IDW)
Characters: Vector Prime, Clockwork (DP)
Warnings: crossover with Danny Phantom
Summary: Even beings who can be anywhere, anywhen, need advice sometimes.
“Clockwork, my old friend!” The Matrix Carrier cried out, delighted to see the ecto-matter being still ticking-and-tocking in his watchtower. “I’ve got a question for you,”
“Vector,” the formerly bearded (and stooped) individual looked away from his view screens. “Is it about the Codex you commissioned from one of my people?”
“Codex? No, no.” Vector shook his head, “I’ve got a problem, and want advice.”
“Oh?” One black optic scared from before sparkling-hood, stared at his impromptu visitor, while the other, undamaged optic, studied the shifting timelines. “I see.”
“Yeah - one of my chosen Matrix Bearers keeps on dying. I’m at my wit’s end. Can’t continue resurrecting him - it will disrupt everything I’ve worked so hard to keep intact. But I also can’t continue safeguarding him every moment of every joor! I’m only one Cybertronian, and have a limited span of life.”
Both optics, an unreadable black, turned towards the conflicting events. “Have you considered never intervining, and allowing nature to take it’s own course?”
“Of course, I have, Clockwork!” Vector waved a silver hand. Monitors previously blank switched on, revealing an unsettling scene.
Nyon’s bustling dock was awash in flames. Flying attackers that would latter be labeled rebellious Transformers, Decepticons by affiliation, attacked the loading docks, stealing energon from the transports before they could haul their cargo into storage yards, shooting mechs that fled, destroying those that resisted, spreading destruction and deactivation everywhere they went.
One mech, a young blue-and-red worker, went down, trying to get friends to safety. The other two - a bright yellow and blue loader, and a pink-and-white laborer - fell soon after.
There the timeline split: In one (rescued by five winged individuals who carried the fatally wounded red-and-blue loader), a new Prime emerged, taking the fight to the leader of the uprising. In the other, no one came by in time to heal the gravely wounded mechs before their laser-cores fell silent and cold.
The scene where two of the three were reformatted into capable fighters, the battleground became a fight between two equal opponents, and while the war continued for an eternity, there were still worlds and lands untouched by the growing conflict.
Where no one living was recovered, the Decepticons quickly took control; establishing their leader as High Lord Protectorate, and Galactic Leader of All. On the surface, the uprising succeeded in overthrowing the previous Council, and - once certain purges had been finished - life went back to normal. On the surface, everything appeared better for the survivors.
Stepping away from the new headquarters in Kaon, starvation and rust set in everywhere else. Even basic medical supplies, regular maintenance, became something only a rare few could afford - and most of those were “elected officials” who stole all the wealth and energon from their citizens to feed Kaon’s unquenchable appetite.
Another step back, and worlds beyond the Cybertronian Empire began dying as all their recourse were stolen, taken to keep the lie going. Those in power ignored the double-standards they inflicted upon their own people.
There was no cure to the wasting disease.
“Have you considered letting him be?” Clockwork asked his timely visitor. (Truly, Vector Prime’s unexpected visits were always just about the time he wanted to scream in frustration, or die from sheer boredom. Guarding the integrity of the time stream, keeping an optic out for those who wanted to change the past, was a never-ending, but very demanding job).
“Yes, and the one time I did let him deactivate in battle, his frame was commandeered by the Quintessicons trying restart the war in their favor. Not a happy ending for anybot.”
Puzzles like this helped keep processors sharp. While Clockwork knew he was asking questions Vector had already considered, he had to ask anyway - sometimes the answer came only after several variations were brought to the mech’s attention.
“I assume you arranged for his successor too.”
“Hot Rod was no one’s first choice - but the only mech I could find able and willing to do the job that might end the civil war.”
“What about his protectorates?”
“Kup and Springer? Yeah, they helped keep Hot Rod alive and trained him the best they could, considering. Why?”
“Who were Optimus’ advisors and bodyguards? He seems to lack dedicated protectors.”
“Why ---“ Vector Prime trailed off. “He doesn’t have one!” Thank’s Clockwork! I’ll be back for the Codex later.”
(Later, turned out to be the one time Vector Prime brought a tag-along to Clockwork’s Lair. “This is A-3. He survived the Quints and established the Council’s predecessor.”
Clockwork took one look at the too-young-to-be-properly regal blue mech, announced. “Alpha Trion. A pleasure to meet you.” The first Cybertronian Relic thus made its way into Historical time proper.)
Later, Solus Prime - using the Codex only Alpha Trion could unlock - created the Forge, and many other items that brought about the Golden Age after she passed into legend.