The Good Soldier
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.
Ratchet looked over his colleague's shoulder, back into First Aid's office at the young mech who was currently the only occupant. The young Autobot stared back, arms crossed, annoyance playing quickly across his features, obviously remembering whose opinion his fate rested on.
:I don't see why he can't return to active duty: Ratchet said over his internal comm. :His injuries are repaired, and he's doing fine, isn't he?:
:That's the thing: First Aid replied. :He's done everything, and I do mean everything that's been asked of him, without complaining:
Ratchet raised an optic ridge. Surprising, but not unusual considering this Autobot and what he'd been through.
:Maybe he's finally starting to show some maturity. He has been through a great deal, First Aid. Do you have any other concerns?:
:Physically, he seems fine, but. . .:
:But what?: Ratchet said.
:That's just it. He's been. . .agreeable. Not happy about a lot of things, but he hasn't complained, gotten angry, smarted off:
:He appears stable. Give him time. I know he hasn't had many visitors, for whatever reason, that could be part of the problem. You know you can consult me if you have any further concerns:
First Aid nodded.
"Thank you for coming. Your help on this case has been much appreciated, considering everything," First Aid said.
Ratchet smiled. "I always have time for the best student I ever had," he said. "Take care."
First Aid walked back into his office.
"You're free to go," he said. "Remember, if you have any questions or concerns, you can contact me."
Hot Rod stood.
"Doc, thanks for everything, but if I have my way, it will be a very long time before I ever set foot in this place again," he said.
-----
High Command. Hot Rod strode down the corridors, to the office of the one mech he never wanted to see again. He reached up to hit the chime but the door opened, allowing him entrance.
"I've been expecting you."
Optics narrowed, Hot Rod entered.
"I'm sure you have, Ultra Magnus," Hot Rod said.
"You're well?" "Cut the small talk,' Hot Rod said. "We both know why I'm here."
Magnus sat back, steepling his fingers.
"You do know you're lucky to be alive," he said.
"With no thanks to you," Hot Rod said.
"You knew what you were getting into when you made your choice," Magnus said.
"Yes,I did. But I didn't plan on my unit being bait," Hot Rod said. "And I don't appreciate being used."
"Remember, you volunteered," Magnus said.
"Don't keep throwing that back in my face," Hot Rod said. "I'm not the one that lied. And I don't think betrayal would sit well with others either."
"Do you know what was riding on that mission?" Magnus said. "Shockwave's work could not be allowed to continue. You should know, considering you have first-hand experience."
"When are you going to tell them he's alive, and has been all this time?" Hot Rod asked.
"That is none of your concern," Magnus said.
"Shockwave is a traitor, and he's been using captured Autobots in his. . .research. That's not a reason for concern?"
"It will be dealt with," Magnus said. "And if you will tell me the location of the weapon, it will be disposed of."
"I'll die before I tell you," Hot Rod said. "I had my orders, I took an oath--gave my word, and I will keep it. Unlike you. You went back on your word, Magnus, and that is unforgivable."
"Just one of the many burdens I bear," Magnus said. "And you have long been a source of great disappointment."
"Get in line," Hot Rod said.
Magnus stood, coming around to stand in front of Hot Rod. He stared down at the younger mech.
"I wonder what Sirene would say if she could see you now. You could have been so much more than what you are," Magnus said.
He suddenly found himself with Hot Rod's hand at his throat, the canons on his right arm online.
"Never say her name again," Hot Rod said. "You have no right."
"Stand down, or you will be removed," Magnus said.
Hot Rod backed away, slowly, offlined his weapons.
"You and I are two of the last of the elite families left," Magnus said. "The elite have guided the fate of this planet for millennia."
"I was taught otherwise," Hot Rod said. "And there was a reason. My creator was a Peacekeeper, and a good one. She gave her life protecting others. For your information, the only 'us and them' left are Autobots and Decepticons. And have you ever noticed no Prime ever came from an elite family?"
Magnus said nothing.
And Hot Rod wasn't finished.
"If I didn't know better, I'd swear the deaths of the council and Alpha Trion were your doing, but you're not that creative," Hot Rod said. "You're too much of a good soldier to come up with something like that yourself."
"At least I know what I am," Magnus said, meeting Hot Rod's optics.
"And I don't see how you can live with yourself," Hot Rod said. "Have you seen what the Decepticons are working on? It's what drove Shockwave mad. . ."
"I am well aware of what he was working on. Now, tell me the location of the weapon."
Hot Rod shook his head in frustration. "You just don't get it, do you?" he said. "I'm done, Magnus. This thing between us, over. Finished."
Hot Rod turned to leave.
"I'm sorry you feel that way. If you had made the right choice. . ." Magnus said.
The young mech, stopped, turned.
"You're a coward," Hot Rod said, continuing on. He didn't stop, even when he passed Ironhide.
Ironhide found Magnus as Hot Rod had left him, standing in front of his desk.
"Guess your meeting didn't go well, did it?" Ironhide said, optic ridge raised, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"You have no idea," Magnus said. "Did you find it?"
"No, but it would help if I knew exactly what I'm supposed to be looking for," Ironhide said.
"I told you all I know," Magnus said. "Keep looking."
"I will, but I'm not sure how much longer I can keep pulling resources away for your wild chase," Ironhide said. "And I want you to know--this is the last time, Magnus. This is the last favor I will grant. I only do this to keep a weapon out of Decepticon hands, if that is indeed the truth."
"It is, Ironhide," Magnus said. "Leave."
-----
Jazz had to run to catch up with Hot Rod's quickly retreating form. He caught up, matching stride with the young mech.
"Hey, hot shot, slow down. Too good to say hello to an old friend?" Jazz said.
Hot Rod stopped. "No," he said. "Sorry, just have a lot on my mind."
"I was wondering when they were gonna let you out," Jazz said. "Ready to get back to duty?"
"More than ready," Hot Rod said.
"Good, because your transfer request was granted. You start with Special Ops in two days," Jazz said.
"Two days?"
"Hatchet's recommendation. Said you needed a couple of days to get acclimated back to normal life after being in the med facility so long. Two months is a long time," Jazz said. "Besides, you should be glad you get even that. There's a few mechs that'll be glad to see you."
-----
The transport ride gave Hot Rod time to think, and much needed time to cool off. Two months was a long time, indeed. He knew his injuries had been severe, and he was indeed lucky to be alive. But in that time, he hadn't been allowed visitors, and he'd found out he'd been kept longer than necessary. And he knew by whose order. He had every right to be angry, had kept it bottled up the entire time he was at the med facility. Some suns didn't burn as bright and hot as his anger.
It wasn't just anger, either. Guilt at having survived, and not being able to tell his friends the truth about some of what had happened. But he'd done as promised--hadn't gone back on his word, broken the trust he was given.
Magnus, on the other hand, betrayed the trust others had in him, fracturing his long-standing relationship with Ironhide as well as his friendship with Prime. Hot Rod had an inkling Ironhide knew some of the truth, while Prime was still in the dark, as far as he knew, and it would stay that way. Another promise he'd so far kept.
And Shockwave. . .His work, before going over to the Decepticons, included working on trying to create life without the intervention of the Allspark. Allegedly impossible, but he'd had some success with artificial intelligences. Another project was what he called gestalt technology--joining more than one mech to form a larger entity. The physical merging could be dealt with--Cybertronian bodies could adapt but the problem was the merging of minds into one single entity. The theory was sound, but while at the Academy, Shockwave was never allowed to continue with that research. But that all ended when the Academy was destroyed and Shockwave thought dead. Except he was captured by the Decepticons, tortured until he was driven mad and then used for their own purposes. At least that was the line intelligence fed Magnus. How mad Shockwave actually was before was debatable.
Another matter angering Hot Rod--if he so much as thought about revealing that Shockwave was alive, and Magnus found out, he was as good as dead. And the rest of what he knew. . .
He snapped back to reality as the transport landed. Jazz dragged him out, hauling him toward one of the tubes to the underground.
"We're not. . ."
"Oh yes we are," Jazz said, grinning.
Minutes later, they were in Iacon's underground district, highly irreputable and hardly suitable for the head of Autobot Special Ops and one of his agents to be frequenting. Except certain members of High Command were well known around one bar.
Servo's. One of Jazz's favorite haunts, one Hot Rod was very familiar with himself. Kup liked the place, so did Springer. He did too. Once.
Jazz pulled him inside, back to the corner, where several familiar faces were waiting.
"Told ya I'd find him," Jazz said, shoving Hot Rod toward a chair.
Before he could sit, Hot Rod found himself engulfed in a hug from Springer, shoved toward Blurr and another hug from Kup, along with unexpected tears, but the ancient mech quickly wiped them away.
"Smoke," he said.
"Sure," Hot Rod said.
"It's good to see you, lad," Kup said.
"I know," Hot Rod said.
"Blurr here went and got himself promoted," Springer said.
Hot Rod smiled in spite of himself. "And I suppose you're here because they let you off the Valor for good behavior?"
"Nah," Springer said. "The ship's getting some repairs after the latest skirmish out in the colonies, and I had some time off coming up, so I decided to come here to blow off steam and I see this mech I used to know. . ."
"Ratchet let you know I was out, eh?"
"Yup. Said we'd better see you. And believe me, I am happy to see you," Springer said. "C'mon. Let's get something to drink."
--
He quickly caught up on what he'd missed over weeks he'd been injured. Blurr was now second in command of Kup's tactical unit, which now included Bluestreak and the twins. The Valor was assigned to protect the remaining colonies from Decepticon incursions, but they were losing ground quickly, and Springer was due to leave again in a few hours. And none of them talked about the deaths of the Council of Ancients and Alpha Trion, Prime's creator.
With them gone, the day to day concerns of running the planet were left to High Command, or on the shoulders of Ultra Magnus, something that did not sit well with any of them.
As the night wore on, Hot Rod found it harder and harder to keep a smile on his face. And Kup noticed.
"Lad, if you want to go, I'll understand," he said.
"No, it's all right. I don't want to concern the others," Hot Rod said.
"You sure?"
Hot Rod nodded.
"Prime's asked about how you're doing," Kup said.
"Oh," Hot Rod said.
"Thought you'd like to know," Kup said.
"How is he?" Hot Rod asked.
"As well as can be, considering. For a while there, I thought we were going to lose him. . .He was mad with grief and if he could've found Megatron. . .But enough about all that. How are you doing?"
"OK, I guess," Hot Rod said.
"Just OK?"
"I've been better. Let's just leave it at that," Hot Rod said.
"Are you sure about this new assignment?" Kup said.
"As sure as I've ever been about anything," Hot Rod said. "I don't want to have to be responsible for others, and this way, I can still do something. . .I can still fight, and I'll only have to worry about me."
Kup clasped his friend on the shoulder.
"As long as it's what you want," he said.
"Yes," Hot Rod said. "It is."
Kup stood. "I'll see you later then, lad," Kup said. "I need to go get Blurr and round up the rest of the unit. They're around here somewhere."
Hot Rod nodded, leaving himself.
Like he'd told Kup, the new assignment was exactly what he wanted. And if something happened, there would only be himself to blame.