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That particular day was rough; Solid Horn was making his way through the streets at a leisurely pace. The traffic was slowly wearing down his patience; he was one honk away from using his wheeled crane to mercilessly remove any vehicle that got in his way, but since he’d already received a warning before, he had to behave—and besides, he didn’t want to jostle the barrels of fuel he was carrying on top too much.
The traffic on the streets cleared up after a long wait, and he could finally speed up. Two special bots were waiting for him, and he didn’t want to keep them waiting any longer. A few intersections and blocks later, he had finally reached the building where he lived, driving wearily up the hill until he reached the third floor. “We should find something closer” he had thought to himself several times.
He reached the door, and his components gathered to finish coming inside, leaving a few barrels on the floor and entering the code into the door’s electronic lock. The lock lit up green, indicating that the door was already open; he pushed the door open as best he could, dragging the barrels inside, and turned around to make sure it was closed. As he turned, he found himself face to face with Flame Copter pointing a weapon at him. One wrong move and…
“Which one did you bring?” Flame Nova’s voice came through the speaker in his helicopter component. Solid Horn raised his arms, pretending to surrender—even kneeling down to add a bit more drama.
“I'm sorry, my dear, there was no kerosene. Only diesel, and I even looked in several places.” Flame Copter hovered silently in the air, the sound of its rotors filling the silence.
“That’s NOT the answer I wanted!” The helicopter started firing at him, hitting him squarely in the chest. Apparently, Flame Nova was in a good mood because he had swapped out his usual ammo for soft bullets, and Flame Nova was the kind of bot who would gladly empty every cartridge of ammo on him—something he’d done before.
Solid Horn stood up, amused by everything that was happening, pointing at the fuel barrels. “I’ll bring them to you right away—I know your levels are low, and you know how dangerous it is right now.” Flame Copter just shifted from side to side, mocking him, before flying off down the dark hallway toward the main room.
Yeah, today was definitely going well. He hoisted the fuel cans under both arms and headed toward where his beloved was.
Flame Nova… they’d met under far less ideal circumstances. A territorial dispute with another tribe had gone awry; that tribe was smuggling precious minerals out of their territory. They’d been given an ultimatum to cease all operations, but to no one’s surprise, they didn’t comply, and he, as chief of his tribe, had to roll up his sleeves and get to work.
With Terracrusher in his servo, he mercilessly smashed anyone that got in his way. He had warned them, and now they had to face the consequences. The sound of weapons behind him and unfamiliar voices ordering him to stop made him let out a exasperated sigh. Some idiot had thought to call the Star Guardians, but that wouldn’t be enough to stop him.
He rampaged and slaughtered his way through, wiping out most of the squad they’d sent, leaving the smallest of them badly wounded—until a massive bot took several steps forward. Huh, they’d brought Flame Nova.
As infamous as any, he only showed up on those kinds of missions when things seemed hopeless—or so that's what was said in the rumors that went among the other tribes. He’d never had the pleasure of meeting him, but now, as he tightened his grip on his hammer, he was about to.
A long, brutal fight ensued, but unfortunately, Solid Horn fell to the ground, torn to pieces, with a massive burn wound that, luckily, didn’t damage his left optic. Flame Nova stood over him; he didn’t remember anything else after that, only that he woke up with all his limbs bound by electric chains.
He hated him so much at first—the feeling coursing through every one of his circuits while he was in the darkness, the sting of the burn on his faceplate serving as a stark reminder of where he was—but at the same time… he was intrigued by that Star Guardian. Something was brewing beneath his frame—a plan he would set in motion once he got out of there.
A month had passed when he was released; with his servos clenched into fists, he made his way to his tribe’s territory, requesting to speak with the tribe’s council of elders as soon as possible. What he had planned would begin to take shape in about a month—that is, if everything went well after the meeting.
A few visits to that commander had convinced Solid Horn, and on a quiet day when only Flame Nova had been patrolling the streets, he found an object in his office that he was certain hadn’t been there before. He approached the door and took the opportunity to ask a rookie who was passing by if he’d seen anyone else enter the office; the rookie confirmed that no one had come in and that he would request access to review the security cameras. Flame Nova nodded in response and then let him go. He approached the desk cautiously.
Right in the center of the desk stood a very curious little statue. It was made of silver and cast a pleasant glow throughout the office. He picked it up carefully with his servos to get a better look and noticed that it was the flame symbol on his helm, covered by the Star Guardian's insignia.
It didn’t seem to have anything hidden inside, nor did it make any sound, so it was just something… that had appeared for some reason. For a brief moment, he thought it was a coincidence.
Until more figurines began to appear as the weeks went by, each one made of different metals and seeming to improve with time. The most recent ones were exact replicas of his components; he’d thought about getting rid of them, but they were so well-made that he felt a bit sorry to do so, so he decided instead to line them all up on his desk.
A knock was heard at the door, and Flame Nova gave the bot on the other side permission to enter—it was, in fact, that same subordinate from earlier that day.
“You may proceed, sir.” Flame Nova stood up from where he was sitting to follow the rookie through the hallways to the security quarters.
“Don’t you think it took them a little while to process that request?”
“Definitely, sir. I tried to pressure them to give you a satisfactory response, but it wasn’t possible until today. Was it dangerous?”
“No, but I need to make sure of something...”
When they arrived at the barracks, those who were already there began reviewing the security footage hour by hour from that same day until they found the exact moment and identified who it was. Right during the break... oh, that bastard.
“We need to initiate a proto-”
“No,” Flame Nova interrupted them. “Just this once, leave it be. I’ll handle this.”
He would have to track him down to get to the root of the problem. He succeeded, and they would meet at the border of the territory occupied by the Monohorn tribe.
.
.
.
“What brings you he-”
“What are you playing at?” Flame Nova got straight to the point.
Solid Horn just leaned back, looking relaxed, his optics glaring fiercely at him.
“It took you a while to figure it out, huh? What did you think of them?”
“I’ll say it again. What are you playing at? I didn’t come here to be mocked by you.” Flame Nova began to prepare the cannon on his arm in case the other one tried anything, but he couldn’t attack him for no reason.
Solid Horn just snapped his digits.
“I’m courting you,” he said, his optics smiling. “I’ll say it again: What did you think of them? I made them myself.”
…What?
“Are your thinking circuits damaged or something?” His cannon began to cool down in a show of disbelief.
They told me the same thing Solid Horn recalled jokingly, keeping a straight face. He could still feel the council and his ancestors judging him for what he was doing.
“I don’t know what you guys do for ‘courtship,’” Flame Nova continued. “Couldn’t you at least say something to me? I still can’t read processors,” he finished sarcastically.
“I could have told you earlier, yes, but what's the fun in that?” He narrowed his optics even more. “Would it have changed your answer? You don't even sound upset”
The sound of Flame Nova's engine grew a little louder. Ah. Maybe, deep, deep down, he had grown fond of the idea of receiving those gifts and his core running warm, but…
Solid Horn approached him and, with great confidence, took one of his servos between his own, slowly caressing the other’s digits.
“Let me formalize my courtship, you won’t regret it.”
Flame Nova’s optics narrowed.
“Mhm, we’ll see about that.”
Solid Horn took it as a challenge—and he loved a good challenge—so after several more gifts, a few dates, and a determined effort to break down every wall Flame Nova had up to get him to reciprocate, he succeeded. It wasn’t easy, but he didn’t become a chieftain without having at least a little stubbornness in his systems.
Three years had already passed since then; Flame Nova and he had moved in together (he’d received complaints because it was outside his tribe’s territory, but he was constantly there, so that should make up for his insolence).
His beloved, who, upon entering the room, threw some soft bullets at his chest.
“What took you so long? We were waiting for you.” Flame Nova, who was sitting on the bed, shifted his position to show his now-swollen abdomen.
They’d received the news several months ago, with Flame Nova waiting for him in the living room with some test results. They’d discussed the idea of becoming creators several times, and neither of them was opposed to the idea. Flame Nova was already in his eighth month out of ten; Frames like theirs took longer to develop, and he was confined to an office because he insisted on continuing to work—he wasn’t sick, after all. Since he was in the final stages of his carriage process, he couldn’t easily switch to vehicle mode, but he managed to split his arms and do things just like before whenever he was bored.
He was good at keeping up appearances; no one could have imagined that the commander who seemed so cold had become so affectionate. Solid Horn approached him, handing him the barrel and curling up in his lap. Flame Nova took the barrel with one arm opening it, drinking it's content and, using the servo on his free arm, began to stroke Solid Horn’s helm.
Solid Horn placed both of his servos on Flame Nova’s abdomen as he shut off his optics to rest. Being there with his beloved mate and their offspring was something he wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.
He was the happiest Wild Cardbot in all the land of Moa.