Title: In the Backfield
Series: G1 Cartoon
Characters: Ratchet, Cliffjumper, Megatron, Bombshell
Prompt: "Hiding behind/under Cliffjumper."
Rating: G
The battle had started badly. Three of the minibots; Huffer, Beachcomber and Cliffjumper had been taken down in the initial assault. As Ratchet crept from one to the other, dodging laser blasts and the hurrying feet and wheels of his comrades as they rushed forward he tried to recall just what they were after this time. Prime has said something about a transducer or transponder or something. Those pesky humans just insisted on building things for the Decepticons to steal. It didn't really matter to him, though. He had to get to his 'bots and tend their wounds.
He was crouched next to the prone, and thankfully silent, form of Cliffjumper. A laser blast had reset the little guy's relays, and destroyed his legs below the knee-joint. Some bots were much easier to work on while they were offline, and Cliffjumper was high on that list. The Autobot medic sealed the ruptured energon lines in the shattered limbs. He was running a rough diagnostic for additional injuries when he heard the crunch of a heavy tread on gravel and the rasp of a harsh laugh.
"What are you doing, Medic? Hiding behind this deactivated scrap?"
Ratchet looked up into the singed and grinning visage of Megatron. The Decepticon leader brought his fusion cannon up and the ominous whine of its charging power filled the air.
"I' m not hiding behind Cliffjumper," Ratchet said, shifting slightly to cover more of the minibot with his own frame. How had the Decepticon gotten behind their lines?
"So I see," Megatron said casually. "You're wasted fixing this scrap, Medic. Why not join the Decepticon cause?"
It was not a complete surprise. Megatron had made a similar offer before, on Cybertron. And Ratchet would give him the same answer.
"I'd rather..." he began, then hesitated. The sounds of the continuing battle seemed far away. He looked quickly around and noticed that other than the prone minibots, he and Megatron were the only ones here. Maybe it would be smarter not to be adamantly defiant. "Not," he ended lamely.
"Oh?" the big Decepticon said with a chuckle. "That's too bad, for you," he lifted his arm, but rather than a fusion cannon burst a small black and purple thing flew out from between his fingers. "Bombshell, help our friend Ratchet to change his mind, won't you?"
Bombshell flew toward the medic and perched on the chevron of his helm. Ratchet knew it would take the Insecticon only a few astroseconds to drill through the metal to implant a cerebro-shell. The shell would take over Ratchet's mind and make him a willing slave to the Decepticons, a fate almost worse than deactivation.
"Now sit still and let our good friend, Bombshell do his work, won't you?" asked Megatron in a horrible parody of courtesy. "Otherwise, I might just lose my patience and then, well, who knows what might happen," he gestured ominously to the still forms of Huffer and Beachcomber by his feet.
Ratchet twitched as the tiny drill dug into the plating on his forehead, but he forced himself to remain as still as possible. He couldn't let his friends die. But he couldn't allow himself to be taken by the Decepticons, either. He sent out a frantic S.O.S. on the Autobot emergency channel, but only received the squeal of blocking static that was Soundwave's contribution to every battle.
What other options did he have? He shuttered his optics, hearing the high pitched whirr of the Insecticon's probe as it inched toward his processor. Idly he wondered if injured Decepticons would be more difficult patients than certain Autobots he had to deal with. And in a flash he knew what to do.
Keeping the outward facing part of his body as still as possible, Ratchet felt along the base of Cliffjumper's helm for the reset switch on his neck. He paused to send a brief plea to Primus for luck and triggered the switch.
The red Autobot jerked up, howling with rage, tumbling Ratchet aside. The medic swiped at his helm as he rolled and felt the satisfying crunch as he crushed the tiny Insecticon against the metal of his head. He continued to roll away, frantically dodging the expected fusion cannon burst that melted the ground behind him.
But now Megatron had problems of his own, Cliffjumper had produced his ridiculously huge gun from subspace and was taking potshots at the Decepticon from his semi-reclined position on the ground and merrily swearing all the while. Cliffjumper was not a great shot, but he was enthusiastic and the commotion drew even more effective help. With a rumble and clang, Optimus Prime drove onto the scene, transforming swiftly to tackle Megatron and bring the big gray Decepticon to the ground. Megatron was quickly up again and took to the air, calling for retreat.
As Prime stood sentinel above his medic, watching the enemy fly away, Ratchet turned back to Cliffjumper. The little red Autobot was craning his neck, trying to see his feet.
"I guess I'm out of the fight for a while, huh, Docbot?" Cliffjumper asked.
"You've earned a rest," Ratchet replied.
"Yeah," the feisty Autobot said, "but the next time you decide to set up an ambush like that, let a guy know first, OK?"
"I would," Ratchet replied with a smile and a rueful rub at the hole in his forehead, "but there's no other way to keep you quiet."