Since this story is already pretty old and I have improved my writing as well as my english a litte, I decided to rewrite a few of the earlier chapters. This is the first one. I'll try to get the next few done as soon as possible and then continue the story.

I hope you guys enjoy it anyway! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this, especially since I'll be adding a couple of things so that the plot in the new chapters gets a little more detailed. I'm sorry I haven't done much on here in so long but I think I'm getting back into it now.

A human sparkling

The frantic screaming, the begging and whimpering from those countless organics had stopped by sundown. Some of them had tried to run, but they had been everywhere. They did not care that this was dirty work. There had been rumors that they had vanished from the face of the earth. It was now time to end these rumors. And to make their statement abundantly clear, they announced their presence with a bloodbath.

He took another step forward and grimaced at the squelsh sound from under his feet. The ground was blood soaked and littered with tiny, torn apart bodies. It was almost impossible to not make a mess of his finish. But looking down at his chest, he had to admit he was rather proud of himself. Unlike Breakdown, he didn't have dark red splattered all across his paintjob. With a contented sigh the red, smaller robot transformed the saw blade on his right arm back into a five fingered hand.

Over the past few hours of the cycle, which he had spend with sawing apart screaming and kicking organisms, it had become dark. The moon now provided enough light to form long shadows behind the tall, metal creatures, making them seem even mightier.

„No survivors?", the tallest of them asked in a low rumble. His blood red eyes scanned the area. The pointed edges of his silver armor were just as tainted with red as the large blade, that was retracted with a swift motion. Small droplets of blood landed on the red mechs chest. He grimaced again and his look fell upon another one of them, standing to his right.

A taller, blue armored mech looked out over the field once more before he spoke up. „They don't seem alive to me."

The leader did not seem pleased and bared what looked like two rows of sharp, metal teeth. "Knock Out, make sure that they are dead. We don't need the Autobots thinking that we would show any of them mercy, now do we?"

The dark laugh that followed his words was contagious in its cruelty. A smile not unlike the one of his master spread across Knock Outs face. "Of course not, my Lord. "

Only after the portal that transported everyone back onto the warship had vanished, did Knock Out's smile fade. But what could he have done? Stood up to his Master, who was so much bigger, stronger and cleverer than him? No. That would be suicide.

And so he started walking past the numerous dead human bodies, searching for any sign of life. But there was none. No movement, no breath, no heartbeat. The only living thing besides him were the birds; crows that had already started picking away at the dead flesh. What did they call it? Circle of life? Repulsing.

He shooed away a few of the birds in his way and kept going, almost bored, when all of a sudden he heard a little whimper. His saw blade came to life once more and the dark smile returned.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are." he whispered in a dangerous sing-song voice, while slowly walking towards the noise. Oh how pathetic those creatures were. Left their allies, mates and offspring behind to survive for themselves. What a cowardly race.

The closer he came to the whimpering and the human that caused it, the more pitiful the thing seemed to him. He could hear its heartbeat, fast like that of a scared sparkling. Knock Out couldn't help but laugh out loud at the absurdity of the situation. Never had he pictured himself like this, slaying helpless creatures smaller than one of his digits. He knew where it hid and there was no point in letting it run. Like they had been told, these creatures wouldn't even live to see the next vorn.

He found the creature hiding underneath a piece of debris.

Without any hesitation, he lifted the piece and threw it, with all his power, against a less destroyed building. The walls crumbled under the force and part of it collapsed, burying whatever was inside it. With a big smile Knock Out turned back around, prepared to face the fleshy whose life would come to an end right here.

But what he saw, curled up to a whimpering ball was not the fully grown, cowardly human he had expected. It was a human, by all means. But it was so much smaller than the ones he had seen until now. It took him a few clicks to realize what lay before him. It was their offspring. A sparkling. A human sparkling. He had never seen a human sparkling before.

It stared right at him, its big green optics were wide open, leaking trails of liquid as its mouth formed an 'o'. The attachments to its head were red and much shorter than what grown humans had. It had stopped whimpering, instead its whole frame seemed to shiver. He guessed that it was perhaps horrified by the sight of a Decepticon so close to her.

He couldn't believe it. An actual sparkling. It must have been millions of years since he had last seen one. In the youth sectors, before the allspark had been catapulted out of their world. And even during the war sparklings were off-limits. By far too valuable now that their hope for new ones had vanished between the stars.

He had never killed a sparkling before.

"Get over with it, Knock Out." he tried to encourage himself.

The blade, which had offlined itself at the sight of this sparkling, roared to life again. As the deadly weapon came closer, the sparkling started whimpering once more, terrified, and stared up at him. Liquid had started leaking out of its optics. It curled itself into a tighter ball, trying to make itself smaller than it already was. Who knew whether it could already tell in what kind of situation it was. But it was obvious that it was scared.

'She, Knock Out. She's a femme.', he corrected himself.

And while he looked at her, he had to confess, she was pretty adorable.

Could he really kill a sparkling? No matter whether it was cybertronian or not, he knew Megatron would have no problem to, Starscream probably neither... But the fluff on her head seemed to be almost the same shade of red as his paintjob! It was a beautiful red.

Her lips had begun to shiver and her already round eyes seemed to widen even more. His spark began to hurt at that sight. And Primus only knew whether it was a long lost protocol reactivating or maybe even himself holding a guarding hand over this creature of a world that should not concern him, but Knock Out knew he couldn't kill her.

So he subspaced his sawblade once more and slowly knelt down beside the sparkling, anxious not to scare her. "My, my. What are we going to do with you?"

She watched him attentively. Her frame had ceased shaking and she crawled closer to the giant so that he had to ask himself if she was as afraid as she was curious. Curious as he himself was, he reached out towards her. The second he was in reach, her little fingers grabbed one of his, so he gently lifted her up to his optics. After a few clicks of staring at each other, she gave him a toothless smile.

It was such a bright smile, that his spark seemed to melt through his chassis. With certainty he thought to himself 'I can't kill such a creature, can I?'

Decepticons don't show mercy. Lord Megatron would have his head and sell the rest of his body to Swindle for spare parts!

He glanced around the area, searching for one of Soundwaves drones. But there was nothing. No visual, no signature, no heat.

When he was certain that there was no one else in the vicinity, he transformed into his altmode and took the little sparkling with him. Thank Primus she wasn't leaking anything anymore, so she wouldn't ruin his seatcovers. Hopefully.

And while he drove as far and as fast as he could, his processor began planning.

'To my defence: her creators have both been killed. How would she be able to survive on her own? She can't even keep her head up for Primus sake!'

So he drove to a small town, about an hour north from the massacre. Taking her with him would be impossible without anyone else finding out about her. The only logical conclusion was giving her into human hands. His spark clenched painfully at the thought of leaving her. There was no doubt now that this was a paternal protocol. Who knew that he could bond with a sparkling of a different race?

'Oh well. At least she's cute.' And as if that could justify it, he decided to keep her in secret.

He had already picked a human hologram, it had come in quite handy when he started 'streetracing' against the fleshies here. Not that they were much of a challenge. He just enjoyed winning.

Fortunately his holo-form had red hair as well, which would make his story more believable. He would walk straight into the orphanage and give her to the nice female at the counter. And should she ask where he had gotten her from, he'd make up something about her parents dying in a car accident and him being related to her. But because of his job and lack of experience, time and space he couldn't care for her, blah blah blah... He would elaborate on this and that, get a bit teary-eyed at some parts and give her fake documents that seemed completely trustworthy. She would give him the address of her foster parents, he could visit her and everything would work out. There was just one tiny little thing.

He didn't know anything about her. Not even her designation.

With a sugarsweet voice he asked: "What is your designation, sweetspark?"

It felt odd using that word. 'Sweetspark'. The only people he ever heard using it were sparkmates or creators. He didn't have a sparkmate. And he had not created her.

She however didn't seem to mind, but she didn't answer him either. After another moment of silence he tried something else.

"Where do you come from?" Speaking this slow made him feel like a moron. Still he didn't receive any response. Was she even still alive? One look in his rear-view mirror told him that she was. She didn't seem too focused though, looking around curiously while a clear, thick fluid ran out of her mouth, down her chin. The little droplets formed a puddle on his seats.

He let out an exasperate moan.

"Can you even speak?"

Although it was a rhetorical question, the answer he received was a heavenly giggle followed be her hiding her face in his seats.

"Awww, that's cute. But please stop moisturizing my interior. I can assure you that I already take good care of it."

Less than a few clicks later, her eyes closed and she fell into a stasis. Wonderful. Couldn't talk, couldn't stay clean, couldn't stay online. Probably couldn't understand him either.

So apparently he would have to make up her whole past in a manner of minutes. Not the hardest task since she couldn't object. The papers were already in the making. He had hacked into a copy shop on the other side of the city. The only thing he needed now was a designation. Or as humans called it... a name.

The internet is a vast place. Furthermore it is easy enough to use, one of the only good inventions on this dirtball of a planet. Besides the automobiles of course. Nobody is saying that Knock Out googled 'How to name a human?', but no one is denying it either. If he had, than he quickly realized that that search wasn't lucrative.

Why would he even want to call her one of these pathetic earth names anyway. She was his now, and she would get a beautiful, yet strong designation. Something cybertronian.

Then again he had never been the most creative when it came to name giving. His experiments had all been numbered. Her name shouldn't be like that. It should mean something, yet be unique. Something that meant a lot to him but also told something about her.

And suddenly he remembered. A plan that was too raw to be used and still of so much significance that countless Decepticons had put their hopes into it. A plan developed by Megatron in the first cycles after the discovery of earth.

Project Nightbird.