"With the All Spark gone we cannot return life to our planet. And fate has yielded its reward, a new world to call home. We live among its people now hiding in plain sight, but watching over them in secret, waiting, protecting. I have witnessed their courage, and though we are worlds apart, like us, there is more to them than meets the eye. I am Optimus Prime and I send this message to any surviving Autobots taking refuge among the stars. We are here. We are waiting."
The message from Optimus Prime scattered throughout the universe. It bounced off of asteroids and was lost in some of the gases planets excreted from their surface. However far the message went, it was not sent in vain. It reached many friendly receptors as well as some that would love nothing more than tear the Autobot leader apart. It also reached some who had no affinity for the war, however, a new home seemed awfully appealing compared to the war havocked and now dead Cybertron. It was only a matter of time before many turned their paths towards the little Milky Way galaxy and from there, the solar system containing the new planet, the new war zone, the new home.
Earth.
Ratchet blearily entered his med bay, the doors hissing behind him. His large feet were oddly quiet as they paced across the metal floor to his desk. Easing down on a Cybertronian sized chair, Ratchet let out a hiss as his hydraulics whined from overuse. Leaning forward over his desk, he rested his head in his hand and mused over the latest proceedings at the new Autobot base. It was not far from Hoover Dam and the United States government helped out as much as they could. Altering an old air base for the transformers was not easy, but proved satisfying results. Ratchet moved a finger along his optic ridge as he remembered how hard his own med bay had been to convert from one of the empty hangers. Shifting his shoulders slightly, he was beginning to regret throwing everyone out when they couldn't comply with his demands for the med bay. The medic had ended up doing over the entire building alone, only having Ironhide coming to help him move things he alone could not budge.
Ratchet rotated the shoulder he was not leaning his weight on and jumped as it made an awful grinding sound. Sure the med bay was almost perfect to his standards but the toll it had taken on his body was proving it may not have been worth working alone. Offlining his optics, he leaned backwards and continued brooding. Several Autobots had responded to the message in a timely manner and were to be landing within the next few days. Other Autobots had sent in weak signals stating they were damaged, but headed to Earth with all due haste. More disturbing yet, several unknown signals had blasted through the Autobots command center stating very clearly that they were to be left alone if the Autobots knew what was good for them.
The few Autobots landing soon identified themselves as Prowl the so-logical-it-made-your-CPU-hurt-if-you-tried-keeping-up tactician, Arcee the lithe sniper femme, Bluestreak a young gunner and damn good at it, and the egotistical twins Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Ratchet remembered groaning when hearing the twins were coming to Earth. However, they seemed pretty willing to behave so long as they could get repairs. Apparently they got into a losing fight with an asteroid field over by the Horse Head Nebula. One of Ratchet's fingers twitched, tapping along the armrest with unease. They had yet to hear what happened to the Decepticons or Starscream. Hearing a hiss from the med bay doors, Ratchet onlined his optics and threw a disapproving look at whoever dared enter his domain. His face plates moved to a softer expression when he saw it was only Bumblebee and his human charge, Sam. Offlining his optics again, Ratchet leaned further back with a groan as his joints prickled with pain.
"What did Sam do to hurt himself this time?" Ratchet asked pointedly, fatigue hanging from his vocal processors. He heard Bumblebee give a sharp laugh and Sam on the offensive about not causing self-injuries. Waving a hand lazily, he onlined his weary optics once more.
"Then what is it you two need? You don't seem to be in any danger nor do you seem to be injured," Ratchet said with a hint of annoyance in his voice. The scout shifted from foot to foot nervously as he spoke.
"We just wanted to make sure that you were alright. Ironhide said he saw you limping away earlier and we were worried," Bumblebee said quickly, his voice processor still raspy from disuse for several decades. The human charge in his hand quickly picked up where his guardian left off.
"That and everyone is amazed at how fast you put together this place," Sam said swinging his arm around, indicating the med bay. Ratchet's optics fluttered around the room before returning back to the pair. Sam rambled on.
"And everyone kinda seems worried at how you're doing. You take care of everyone else so well, just, kinda seems not fair if you aren't being taken care…of…either." He nervously fiddled with the hem of his shirt, watching the CMO. A faceplate twitched on Ratchet in amusement as he tried to hide a smile. Those two…
"Yes, I will be operating at maximum efficiency after a long recharge. Some oil for the joints wouldn't hurt though," he muttered the last bit, crossing his arms across his broad chest. He noted that Bumblebee and Sam exchanged looks before turning their attention back to him.
"If you want…"
"We could probably find a barrel of oil or something…"
"I am certain there are a few barrels in the storage unit…"
"Yeah, we could bring you one or two…"
"If you wanted…"
"Yeah…"
Ratchet watched the two in quiet amusement as they twitched with nervousness. Finally giving them a smile he sat up and laid his arms on his desk for support. "A barrel would be greatly appreciated. Thank you," he muttered out, trying to ignore the pain that was in his shoulder again. The scout and human perked up considerably and took off, chattering to each other as the door hissed with their exit. Letting out a long gust through his cooling systems, he placed a hand on his shoulder plates. He must have gnashed something while moving the medical berths around. Frowning, he rotated his arm and noted with the pressure of his hand the grinding sound was worse. If only Wheeljack or someone else was there to double check that for him. Letting out an irritated growl, he leaned back again and offlined his optics. Wheeljack was one of the few that Ratchet was surprised didn't report in. Either the scientist was too far away or he was so badly injured he couldn't respond. Ratchet mentally kicked himself for the last part. Wheeljack could take care of himself, there was no need for excess worry. The CMO would have enough of that when the twins came in the med bay.
The roar of an engine came through from the other side of the door, causing Ratchet to online his optics once again. The door hissed as a yellow Camaro came through carefully not to upset its cargo. Sam stood on the roof haphazardly, keeping both hands on a large barrel that rested on the car's trunk. It threatened to fall off to either side as the car moved forward. Ratchet sat up interested as Sam yelled at the car for help. The engine revved, only causing more frustration to the human teenager. The barrel seemed to be precariously close to the car's side and the medic could see the fear Sam's body shook with. Suddenly standing up, Ratchet took a few steps from behind his desk and grabbed the barrel before it fell to the floor. That would make a horrible mess he'd have to clean up later if it fell. Setting the oil barrel on his desk, Ratchet heard the whirrs and clicks as the scout turned into his bipedal form, Sam shouting at him weakly from the ground. The medic shook his head and turned slightly to watch the two in an ever growing feeling of irritation. Letting out a fake cough, he caught the two's attention abruptly putting the argument on hiatus.
"Thank you, Bee. Sam. You can both go now and do whatever havoc you were doing before coming to aid me," Ratchet said smoothly, trying to hide the fact that the two were beginning to get on his nerves. As kind of intentions the two had, Ratchet needed to be alone to 'lick his wounds' in human terms. Sam smiled and placed a hand on his hip as Bumblebee chirped happily. Ratchet waved them off and turned back to his desk to study the oil. Hearing the doors hiss and the pair's voices fade, Ratchet reached over his desk and pulled open a drawer. Grabbing a rag from the top, he ignored closing it for now and went to work on getting the barrel open to retrieve the oil. After a few minutes he got the lid pried open. He stuck the rag in the barrel and back to his shoulder. Squeezing the oil out of the rag, he gingerly rotated his shoulder as the oil worked its way around the joint.
Offlining his optics from the pure feeling of relief, Ratchet continued swinging his arm around. He repeated the process a few more times before sitting down behind the desk and started on his knee hydraulics. His CPU didn't wander much as he worked on his task, the feeling of relief was enough to keep him busy. Once he deemed his joints as lubricated as they could get, he stuffed the rag back into the open drawer and shut it with a snap. He eyed the open barrel warily, trying to decide what to do with it. Turning from it, Ratchet decided to leave it alone for now and think about something else.
That one message stating the Autobots should mind their own business was bugging him. It had been encrypted and rather than a voice on the other end it was a bunch of Cybertronian letters. Whoever had sent it did not want to be figured out by the Autobots. Scrunching his faceplates up he stood up and walked to a berth, full intent to stretch out upon it. Maybe it was the Decipticons. But, why would they contact them in such an odd manner? Easing down on the berth, Ratchet laid on his front resting his chin on his arms. He would bring the matter up with Optimus tomorrow. Generally his suspicions were correct and he was afraid of what manner of chaos this one would bring. Easing into recharge, Ratchet put the thought back into his CPU for another day.
Bumblebee laughed as Sam insisted upon his point. The teen continued on with his ramblings, taking in all of the walls as he unveiled his plan to the scout, his arms flailing with emotion and emphasis.
"Yeah yeah, all we need is enough wax to cover it! Then, then…We put a camera up there and get blackmail on all who dare cross this hall!" He slammed his fist into an open palm, and immediately regretted the action. His hand was stinging from the impact. He didn't mean to hit that hard. Turning, Sam looked at Bumblebee as the scout shook his head.
"You're ignorant of my genius," Sam said pouting. This caused the yellow transformer to laugh harder.
"Whaat?" Sam whined throwing his arms down in the scout's palm and leaned his weight on them. Bumblebee stopped as he regained his composure, though his door wings were still fluttering occasionally.
"Anyone entering the hall would be smart enough to turn around and take a different route. Besides that, we'd take all the blame and we'd have to clean it all up. Especially since Sunstreaker and Sideswipe aren't here to lay the blame on," Bumblebee said with mirth. Sam frowned and muttered an, "Oh yeah." Letting out a short laugh, the scout continued forward to the communications room. It was the place to be until more Autobots showed up and the recreation room was more fun to be in. Bumblebee placed Sam on a console as he himself sat down on a stool. Spinning it around to look at one of the many screens, Bumblebee tapped a few codes on the console he placed Sam on and a screen at the front of the room sprang to life with a hum. Tapping a few more codes, Cybertronian letters danced across the screen at an alarming rate.
Sam learned to look away otherwise nausea would hit him as the letters swam in his vision. A few clicks and a map of earth came on screen. Several overlaying red dots, adding up to twenty total, showed up over North America, roughly along the east side of the continent close to the United States and Canada border. Bumblebee let out a whistle and a few clicks and tapped again on the console. The map zoomed in on the dots showing they were located over Vermont, New York, and the Canadian territory Quebec. The scout gave a confused sound, to which Sam turned around to look at the map too. Furrowing his brows, Sam pointed at the map. Looking back at Bumblebee, he dumbfoundedly said, "Aren't those planet dropping Transformers?"
Bumblebee nodded his head and gave a confused chirp. He tapped at the console again and the computer beeped at him. A red symbol came up next to the dots…An 'x'. Bumblebee gave a rather angry whirr before tapping again at the console. Sam wisely moved away from his guardians rapidly moving fingers. Again, another beep and another 'x'. A growl emitted from Bumblebee's vocal processers and Sam took a step back.
"So, what are they?" Sam asked timidly, a little upset at the sight of the usually happy scout who was now rather irritated and slightly angry.
"No clue, the slaggers keep blocking us out," Bumblebee said, frustration lining his voice. Sam tilted his head as the scout used a Cybertronian curse. He hardly ever cursed, even in human languages. Sam turned back to the screen as Bumblebee tapped out a few more codes and received another angry beep from the computer. Giving a harsh blast from his cooling units, Bumblebee flopped backwards. He forgot however, that there was no back to his seat. He flailed his arms around trying to gain balance but to no avail. His yellow bulk fell over backwards, leaving a guffawing Sam on the console. Muttering something in his native tongue, Bumblebee turned right-side-up and leaned over the stool. He tapped a few more things into the console, ignoring Sam who was clutching his sides for dear life. Cybertronian words dashed across the screen. Standing up, Bumblebee twitched his sore door wings and put his fists on his hips.
"Whoever they are, they're landing in a few hours."
Xx; Hopefully that wasn't too mangled to read. The transition between Ratchet to Bumblebee and Sam was hard to make. Anyone willing to throw out suggestions would be greatly appreciated. ONWARDS!! -points finger into air triumphantly-
Ratchet: I diagnose you insane... -slaps an INSANE stamp on authoress's head-
Awww, snap. D:
Edited: Changed the size of some of the chapters and paragraph breaks. X-X sorry to those early readers who had to suffer through the utterly long paragraphs that came from hell.
