Kinrazza! Here's a Chronicus for you!
You know what? I've perfected my procrastination skills. I really ought to work on my getting stuff done on time skills.
Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy it. I tried to go along with your prompt.
Space was, for the most part, vast, empty and black. There was little to keep one's interest between galaxies, there were even fewer species that were intelligent enough or prepared to meet with someone like Chronicus. Since being forced to leave Cybertron, he, Techne, Liberus and Aspiria had wandered aimlessly through the void of the universe.
There were occasions that they found others of their kind, but it was very infrequent and most of those that they did find were usually Decepticons. Chronicus, although swearing to be a pacifist, was usually wary of them, and for good reason. Too many of them failed to understand that his vast archives were for learning and enlightenment, not plundering and pillaging. Their unwillingness to change saddened him greatly. Of the few that had been granted access, they were almost always swiftly ejected by Techne and Liberus.
Vorns passed and there was no real news of the progress or cessation of the war. Chronicus became more withdrawn, rarely speaking to those who traveled with him.
The twins seemed happy to occupy themselves with the maintenance of Chronicus and were good company for one another. Although they were linked to him, their daily routine made it possible for them to often keep Chronicus' presence in the back of their minds. Aspiria, however, was different. Although she also shared a link with Chronicus, her duties as keeper of the archives left her in silence often. In that silence she couldn't help but sense what Chronicus felt.
Lately, though, Chronicus' mood had shifted from an almost melancholy acceptance of their fate to wander to restlessness. It manifested itself in many ways. Techne and Liberus had become more active, often with Liberus gently teasing Techne into a debate about some nonsense or other. Chronicus himself had started making his way through space with more purpose and speed than he had in quite some time.
Amongst the restlessness, there seemed to be a small glimmer of hope, and this, above all else, had piqued Aspiria's curiosity.
One day when she knew Techne and Liberus were working on repairing a faulty thruster, Aspira took the opportunity to question Chronicus.
"My old friend, you seem almost buoyant these days. Has something happened?"
Chronicus rarely spoke using his voice, instead, after a pause, he answered her using their link, "There has been news of the war."
Aspiria froze. It had been so long since they had heard anything, she had started to believe that they were the last of their race.
"News?" she breathed. "And I trust it is good news?"
Again, the fragile hope she'd been sensing flowed through to her, "Megatron is no more."
"I see," said Aspiria.
She had her doubts that this would truly mean anything for them. It was almost certain that Starscream would take command now.
Chronicus, reading her thoughts, said, "Starscream has fled. The Decepticons are in disarray."
"Then perhaps this war truly is over then. We can but hope."
Aspiria started her work again on conserving some of the more ancient of texts when Chronicus spoke again.
"Do you grow weary of being a refugee?"
Aspiria sighed and bowed her head. She often longed for the peaceful times when knowledge and learning were held in great esteem and the halls of Chronicus' archives were full of scholars.
"Yes, I do."
Chronicus was silent for a moment and then said, "So am I."
Aspiria tilted her head thoughtfully, "What shall we do then?"
"Let us return to our home. Perhaps, in time, it shall be as it was. Now that Megatron is gone, there is hope. Hope that the few remaining Cybertronians can put this behind them, that we shall once more be a great race that strives for knowledge and not hatred and murder."
It was the most Chronicus had said to her in such a long time and she couldn't help but let a cautious smile tug at the corners of her mouth.
"Very well, old friend. Let us go home."
With that, Chronicus plotted his course and continued to hope for what the future might hold.
Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy it. I tried to go along with your prompt.
Space was, for the most part, vast, empty and black. There was little to keep one's interest between galaxies, there were even fewer species that were intelligent enough or prepared to meet with someone like Chronicus. Since being forced to leave Cybertron, he, Techne, Liberus and Aspiria had wandered aimlessly through the void of the universe.
There were occasions that they found others of their kind, but it was very infrequent and most of those that they did find were usually Decepticons. Chronicus, although swearing to be a pacifist, was usually wary of them, and for good reason. Too many of them failed to understand that his vast archives were for learning and enlightenment, not plundering and pillaging. Their unwillingness to change saddened him greatly. Of the few that had been granted access, they were almost always swiftly ejected by Techne and Liberus.
Vorns passed and there was no real news of the progress or cessation of the war. Chronicus became more withdrawn, rarely speaking to those who traveled with him.
The twins seemed happy to occupy themselves with the maintenance of Chronicus and were good company for one another. Although they were linked to him, their daily routine made it possible for them to often keep Chronicus' presence in the back of their minds. Aspiria, however, was different. Although she also shared a link with Chronicus, her duties as keeper of the archives left her in silence often. In that silence she couldn't help but sense what Chronicus felt.
Lately, though, Chronicus' mood had shifted from an almost melancholy acceptance of their fate to wander to restlessness. It manifested itself in many ways. Techne and Liberus had become more active, often with Liberus gently teasing Techne into a debate about some nonsense or other. Chronicus himself had started making his way through space with more purpose and speed than he had in quite some time.
Amongst the restlessness, there seemed to be a small glimmer of hope, and this, above all else, had piqued Aspiria's curiosity.
One day when she knew Techne and Liberus were working on repairing a faulty thruster, Aspira took the opportunity to question Chronicus.
"My old friend, you seem almost buoyant these days. Has something happened?"
Chronicus rarely spoke using his voice, instead, after a pause, he answered her using their link, "There has been news of the war."
Aspiria froze. It had been so long since they had heard anything, she had started to believe that they were the last of their race.
"News?" she breathed. "And I trust it is good news?"
Again, the fragile hope she'd been sensing flowed through to her, "Megatron is no more."
"I see," said Aspiria.
She had her doubts that this would truly mean anything for them. It was almost certain that Starscream would take command now.
Chronicus, reading her thoughts, said, "Starscream has fled. The Decepticons are in disarray."
"Then perhaps this war truly is over then. We can but hope."
Aspiria started her work again on conserving some of the more ancient of texts when Chronicus spoke again.
"Do you grow weary of being a refugee?"
Aspiria sighed and bowed her head. She often longed for the peaceful times when knowledge and learning were held in great esteem and the halls of Chronicus' archives were full of scholars.
"Yes, I do."
Chronicus was silent for a moment and then said, "So am I."
Aspiria tilted her head thoughtfully, "What shall we do then?"
"Let us return to our home. Perhaps, in time, it shall be as it was. Now that Megatron is gone, there is hope. Hope that the few remaining Cybertronians can put this behind them, that we shall once more be a great race that strives for knowledge and not hatred and murder."
It was the most Chronicus had said to her in such a long time and she couldn't help but let a cautious smile tug at the corners of her mouth.
"Very well, old friend. Let us go home."
With that, Chronicus plotted his course and continued to hope for what the future might hold.