Memoirs of an autobot transformers fic12/4/2023 He wasn’t exactly bluffing, but he left out part of it. Was he b-bluffing?”īumblebee didn’t answer immediately. “That if anyone tried to hack into his systems, he’d…he’d corrupt his whole processing core. “He told Silas he had a fail-safe.” He had thought he didn’t have any more tears in him, but Raf’s eyes welled up. “Can Ratchet really scramble himself?” Raf blurted.īumblebee’s surprise colored his answer. I can issue a single command to my processing core, and corrupt every scrap of data in me, right down to my motor control algorithms-īumblebee buzzed softly for attention, then trilled, If I had a penny I’d give it to you for your thoughts. Rafael Esquivel rode in Bumblebee’s driver’s seat staring out the window. Bumblebee stayed exactly three of his own length in front of Optimus’ grille, tracking every vehicle within scanner range. Bulkhead was guarding their rear, close behind Optimus and preventing anyone from getting between him and his commander. Arcee ran well ahead of Optimus, who had Ratchet’s silent, ravaged body in his trailer and hadn’t said a word since they left the ruins of MECH’s lab. Leave nothing standing and no foundation whole.” He turned and stalked out through the hole he’d torn in the wall on the way in.Īfter a moment, Wheeljack spoke up. When he spoke his voice was colder and harder than Raf had imagined a voice could be. He lifted Ratchet like a child and straightened to his full height. He closed his chest over the sullenly leaking hole in his Spark feed with a loud clunk and snap of latches reengaging. He drew off two full syringes of life-giving energon and injected them into Ratchet’s Spark in the oppressive silence. If it hurt it didn’t show in Optimus’ face and body. Raf peeked out from behind the shelter of Arcee’s left leg and watched, mesmerized and numb, as Optimus took out an emergency kit, opened one of his chest panels, then stabbed a syringe with a wicked-looking tip into one of the thick hoses close to his own Spark. The other Autobots waited in motionless silence while their commander worked. His body was taut and his hands tightly controlled to be gentle as he examined the leaking hoses and cracked cradle around Ratchet’s guttering Spark. “Ratchet is our first and only priority right now.” He shoved one of MECH’s nitrogen blasters away from Ratchet with a foot that crushed most of the vehicle’s cockpit, then knelt beside his silent, frozen friend. “Prime, we’ve got ‘em on the run!” Bulkhead’s protest carried only ordinary anger. When he called his people back from chasing the fleeing MECH, though, he was a towering and terrifying figure of rage restrained by a will with the power of a force of nature. Optimus Prime in full battle fury was a fearsome sight, even if he was fighting to protect you.
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