Can you tell us more about Thunder Cross?
Dear Saintly Soul,
I confess, I have never encountered Thunder Cross myself. His is a very old story, and I do not know how much of it is even true—but I will tell it to you, as I was told it.
Once, in an age long since past, a bot named Cross lived in the Darklands. An energon miner by trade, Cross was strong and wise, brave and kind, and beloved by all who knew him; always happy to lend a helping servo, his electro-elk companion Radar at his side. At that time, the Darklands were ruled by a cruel and avaricious Prime, who levied harsh taxes on the people of the Darklands, leaving them too drained of fuel to stand up to his enforcers; but, through the hard labors of bots like Cross, the Darklanders were able to eke out a living on the harsh and open plains.
Now, every solar cycle, the skies of the Darklands would crackle with lightning that heralded the coming of the Cyber-Solstice, and the devastating thunderstorms that would sweep across Cybertron for a deca-cycle or more. To have any hope of surviving, the citizens would stockpile what fuel they could and bunker down until the storms passed… but one solar cycle, the cruel Prime learned what his subjects were doing, and became enraged. "How dare they hoard that fuel for themselves," he demanded, "without paying tribute to me?" His advisors tried to make him see sense: if he took the fuel that the people needed to survive, nobody would remain to pay him tribute; but driven by the foolish egotism of a bot who has never had to go undercharged, the Prime had his soldiers ransack the homes of the people, taking their energon and oil to add to his own vaults.
As the thunder started to roll across the plains, the Darklanders despaired. Once the storm hit, their fuel supplies would quickly run out; they would succumb to stasis lock, and before long their very sparks would burn out. But Cross saw the fear in the optics of his friends and neighbors, and he lifted his mining pickel with a steely resolve. With Radar by his side, he traveled down into the depths of the energon mine, and began to dig like he never had before. He dug and dug, until his servos screamed and his fuel pump ached—and still he dug, his mighty pick cleaving the precious energon crystals from the metal of Cybertron.
When the fuel that he had dug was piled so high that even his transwarp sack was overflowing, Cross finally laid his pick down. In sky-sled form, he carried his precious cargo to the surface, but was met by the flash and lightning and the rumble of thunder—the solstice-storm had arrived. Any other mech would have holed up in the mine, seeing that there was no hope of bringing the fuel to the people of the Darklands… but Cross was never one to give in to despair. Despite his fatigued metal and low fuel reserves, Cross set off into the storm, his lantern-matrix lighting the way under the dark sky.
On that night, each Darklander found enough coal and oil and energon to fuel them for a lunar cycle delivered to their hab-blocks, with only the distant light of a lantern showing their savior's passage. Through devastating winds and lightning strikes, Cross fought his way across the plains to make his deliveries… but then his alt-form's engines, straining under the pressure, burnt themselves out. Despite his strong will, even Cross found himself at risk of giving in, for he could not finish his mission in robot mode alone—until faithful Radar emerged from the dark, come to aid his master in his hour of need. Harnessed to Cross's sky-sled mode, Radar pulled the weary bot through the final leg of his journey.
As he made his final delivery, Cross collapsed. His servo-motors had finally given out, and even Radar was exhausted now. But though the people rushed to help him, they were too late—the wind picked him up and swept him away, into the sky… with a satisfied smile on his faceplate all the while.
When the storm finally broke, the Prime emerged from the bunker where he had sheltered with his plundered fuel—only to find a crude crown, sculpted from the soft and useless gold that was a by-product of energon mining, sitting just outside. Infuriated by the insult, he rushed outside his castle, demanding to know who was responsible… and was met by all the people of the Darklands. Fully fuelled thanks to Cross's kindness and labor, the Darklanders were easily able to overcome the Prime's soldiers, and he was cast down from his own recharging tower by the angry people.
Ever since then, the coming of the Cyber-Solstice has been a time for celebration, not fear—a celebration of community, goodwill, and generosity. It's said that the solstice-storm holds no threat, for its rumbling is the sound of mighty Thunder Cross mining fuel from the storm itself, to deliver to the people of Cybertron once more.
