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Lightstreaker's Omen.
PG-13
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What is this, my 1000th transformers fanfic? XD Basically I'm starting the second book in the 'Angel...' series early just cuz I can UwU. 

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In a community on Cybertron, there's a large building known for housing a group known as the Wreckers. Only the best of the best can get in this group, and even then; the best have to be just a little bit insane. This is where Onyx and Crosshairs met so many years before actually getting together in 2017. But with the war just being in the early stages on a slightly post-war Cybertron where the Cybonic-Plague is raging through the urban-rural areas of Cybertron where Autobots and Rogues alike roam the streets, the Wreckers prepare for and carry out the more dangerous missions that the more 'sane' autobot soldiers won't do. The only mission they weren't prepared for was Lightstreaker, and her two twin sparklings; Vega and Viah. Nor were they prepared for her to willingly take the open position as Perceptor's assistant and create a full-proof cure for the Cybonic-Plague.

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"Good evening, Doctor. I'm aware you're looking for an assistant. I'm more than willing to accept said position for however long you decide. I placed a data pad with my information and resume filled out by none other than myself and commander Ultra Magnus on lab table 13, with all the other discarded data pads. I doubt you'll care enough to even read my designation, but I figured I'd drop that data pad off before I went to pick up my sparklings from the sparkling sitters downstairs. Have a nice evening."

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"Lightstreaker, huh?"

"Yessir."

"Trained by none other than both Autobot commander Ultra Magnus and Autobot medic Ratchet?"

"Yessir."

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"Perceptor."

"Pardon?"

"My designation is Perceptor. Quit calling me 'Four Optics' or 'Rod Aft.'"

"Nah. I prefer my new favorite..;"

"Oh Primus help me..."

"Cherry Bomber."

"LIGHTSTREAKER!!"

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"I've gone through every piece of material I had! There's simply NOTHING I have on the fragging Cybonic-Plague that can help Vega or Viah out of this!!!"

"Perceptor.. vent for a moment. Take a deep vent and then start looking again. I know I made copies on four different types of data pads of the cure we created. They're here somewhere, alright?"

"How are you so calm?"

"I'm not. But I'm a scientist as well as a commander-in-chief and a carrier. I have to keep my composure."

"What would I do without you as my assistant?"

"Not sure, Perceptor."

----

Transformers belongs to Hasbro!

I own only the plot and my oc's.

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