Disclaimer: Transformers © Hasbro/Takara. Any and all creative liberties are by the author, and in no way are connected to The Powers That Be.

Inspired by the LJ prompts.

The First Set : The Rookie's Tale

Log Entry #6: Wings – He'd fly away if he had the chance.

Unlike the Autobots, he had no stories to tell. Unlike the Decepticons, he had nothing to boast about. He couldn't even match up to the Neutrals, whose vocal processors dripped hatred for the warring factions and the civil war that was tearing apart their planet.

If he could, he'd leave it all behind.

He wasn't meant for this. He wasn't made for this. He wasn't created to deal with what was facing him. He wasn't even there when it all began. He was on the other side of the planet, the Wastelands, and far from everybody else because the head scientist of the RSO's Nova Cronum branch refused to give him permission to traverse the Forbidden Zone.

Had he been allowed to investigate just the outskirts of the Forbidden Zone he would have been there when the civil war erupted. He would have been there to see Cybertron fall apart. He would have been there to see Nova Cronum, his home for astro-cycles, burst into flames and collapse into ruins. He would have been there when the Cybertronians were forced to choose between the two brothers who once ruled together so peacefully.

He would have been there to watch his closest friend – a friend, you say? – give in to the violence, the hungry unnatural desire to wage war and conquer.

Jetfire had never been to a battlefield. He had never been under fire. From cycle one of his admittance to the ranks of the Autobots he steadfastly refused to join a team and participate. He holed himself up in his labs in the basement of the Decagon next to an eccentric engineer, researching for war.

It wasn't that he was a coward. He didn't want to think about it. He did have to face down a Swarm pod while traversing the dangerous terrain of the Wastelands. He escaped with no more than a dent, a proof of his weapons system's efficiency, but no, he refused to let the Autobots use him to fight. He was not a pacifist – he could've declared himself Neutral and fled the planet, and the temptation was so real – but he would not reveal his one great weakness, the fatal failure in his infrastructure, his type, and the only thing that kept him grounded in the lab.

Aerial Cybertronians are fearless flyers. They have to be. On ground the footing is firm, steady, permanent, and limited. The skies above are endless, open spaces, and forever subject to one's daring. That's what other Aerials say, when he carefully asks them what it's like to really fly.

Only two Cybertronians knew about his acrophobia, and only one ever pushed him to the limits of his self-confidence and sanity trying to free him from it.

Silverbolt thought it was best for Jetfire if Prowl understood why he refused to fight.

Starscream gave him the decoder he needed to access forbidden files, and then attacked him.

Now the world he thought he was finally beginning to understand broke into a million pieces. The other Autobots learned that he feared flying, and some spoke of him in contempt for the wasted ability. When turned on by his closest and dearest companion in the old ruins of Nova Cronum – they used to work side by side in one of the great observatory towers – he found it in himself to fly and fight back, horrified as he was by the finality of the betrayal. The decoder that released Thunderwing's research files carried a virus that tried to disable the Decagon's mainframe.

And now he sat in one of the oversized holding cells, accused of committing treason, and wondered if there was any justice in the world. Of course not, the scientist deep in his Spark scoffed. Sentient beings like to think there's justice, but the world isn't fair. The universe isn't fair. Life isn't fair. Nothing is fair. Everything you see is a product of chance, of the random hand of - ironically – fate.

But he still had with him the decoder, and Thunderwing's files. He had been ordered to discover what Thunderwing had been researching ceaselessly in the megacycles before the war, and he was now one of only two Cybertronians who knew what was being studied. Perhaps Prowl thought they held information for the Decepticons. Curious, though, that the Decepticon left it in the databases at Iacon before defecting to Megatron's side. But Jetfire spent the cycles in the cell analyzing the data, and suddenly it was so clear. This had nothing to do with the Decepticons, or the Autobots. There were things at play in the universe that they had no control over. They had no idea, no awareness of the greater powers at play, the grand motion of things.

But in an unfair world he had to abide by the rules, and that meant nobody was going to know what Thunderwing was looking at, what he was looking for. As soon as his name was cleared, Jetfire was leaving.

He had wings now, and he was unafraid to use them.

Author's Note: I chose to change certain character traits for…creative reasons. You would not want to forget this particular oneshot.

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