Impact
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.
Hot Rod followed Kup inside High Command, as he had every morning for the past few months. Kup made for his office to get his datapads and Hot Rod grabbed energon for them both, heading for the morning briefing. He sat down, picked up his own data pad and stylus, ready to take notes. Somehow, it became his job to write down what was said at each morning briefing, write up the notes and post them in the daily communication log.
Nobody wanted to do it, and no one had been doing it, so when he came along, it fell to him. Strange, that, when there were plenty of Peacekeepers who could do it, or the actual support staff whose job it was to keep track of such matters. No, let's dump the job on the sparkling, he thought as the others filed in for the meeting. He even beat Kup, which wasn't unusual, but meetings, he thought, were a waste of time. Hot Rod agreed.
He nodded at Prowl, who sat down across from him. Barricade followed, sitting down beside his friend.
Seconds later, Kup appeared at the door. "Forget the meeting. Get out here. Now," Kup said.
A feed from the news bureau flared on all the screens in the room. It showed the Cultural Ministry, or what was left of it, on fire.
"That happened just seconds ago," Kup said. "Mount up. They're going to use the Vindicator and the Vengeance to bounce us there. Be prepared for the worst. Collateral damage is expected to be high. This was a surgical strike, terrorist in nature--a bombing, it appears, but if this is typical, they'll attack later."
"We'll have five tactical units going in with us, and whatever else can be spared. Prowl, Barricade, you're in my group," Kup said.
-----
They put them down inside. And it was chaos. The screams of the dead and dying, fire, smoke,
Prowl grabbed Hot Rod, put an extra weapon into his hands. "Might as well make yourself useful," he said, shoving the young mech toward an entrance. "No one gets in, no one gets out. If they do not identify themselves, you know what to do. Is that clear?"
Hot Rod could only nod.
Satisfied, Prowl followed the others inside.
-----
Hot Rod ticked off the minutes, trying to find something to keep his mind off what was going on. His finger rested on the trigger, and he made sure the safety was off, just like Kup taught him. He wanted to stop hearing and seeing, but he couldn't. He had orders, and he meant to follow them.
Except now he knew something wasn't right. Hot Rod felt the energy surge, heard the whine he now knew to be associated with an orbital bounce, but didn't see where it was. Too much going on, too much smoke, and fire, and general interference.
And there, out of the smoke, came a big, black shape, moving fast, and now that he could make it out better, cannons on each arms. Big ones. Quite large, really. How could something that big move that fast?
Oh, great, and it's coming my way.
:Identify yourself:
Nothing.
"Identify yourself!" Hot Rod shouted. Again, nothing.
"Unit and designation!"
The black mech was now on top of him, and he pulled up to a stop.
"Step aside," he said.
"Not until you give me your unit and designation," Hot Rod said, raising his weapon.
"Sparkling, do you know who I am?"
"No."
"You should."
The first shot took the big black mech by surprise, the second hurt and the third pissed him off.
Hot Rod didn't have a chance to get off another shot because out of the smoke came a mech he recognized, not because they had ever met, but because he'd seen him enough.
The tall blue and black mech came in, yelling orders, using the rest of his unit to set up a defensive perimeter before moving in behind the mech Hot Rod had just shot.
Optimus Prime.
"Move in, be ready for anything," he bellowed.
Hot Rod scrambled out of the way, letting the Autobot leader pass, but he stopped, looking at the black mech. "Ironhide, get your aft in gear, and get Ratchet to look at those wounds later," Prime said.
Ironhide nodded at his leader, sparing a scathing glare for Hot Rod before following Prime inside.
-----
Past sundown. The living left after the initial attack and ensuing battle were removed, and all that remained of the burnt out hulk of the Cultural Ministry were the dead and those still trying to pick up the pieces.
Prime found Kup outside, giving orders, pulled the ancient mech aside.
"Who's the sparkling?" Optimus asked, gesturing toward the orange, black and grey mech guarding one of the entrances. "He's not a new recruit, is he? He looks rather young. And I didn't see any brands on him."
"Sparkling?" Kup said. "Oh, Hot Rod. No, he's not a recruit yet, but he plans on it. He's one of my wards."
Prime glanced from Kup back over his shoulder at the young mech, back to Kup.
"Did you know he shot Ironhide this morning?" Prime said.
"What?" Kup said, mouth agape. "Why?"
Prime had a glimmer of mirth in his optics, surprised he could muster up anything to be positive about after the day they'd had.
"Ironhide refused to identify himself, so the sparkling there shot him. Not once, but three times," Prime said.
"I'd say I'm sorry, but. . ." Kup said.
"I know. He had a job to do, and he did it well," Prime said. "He's your ward, you say? I'd heard something about it, but didn't know if it was true or not."
"Yup. Stuck with two of them now--Hot Rod there and Springer," Kup said.
"Why did you bring him here? He's a little young to be in the middle of all this, isn't he?" Prime said. "But I'll give him this--he has gumption."
"Gumption?" Kup said. "That's an understatement. . .To answer your question, couldn't very well leave him at home at first because he got himself into trouble, so I started taking him to work with me, then he started making himself useful, and he's been training. . .and I wasn't about to leave him at High Command today. Ultra Magnus would not have been happy," Kup said.
"Why?"
"Long story," Kup said. "Look, I'm going to go make sure the recovery teams have enough support to get this job done by morning. Keep an eye on things for me?"
"Sure," Prime said.
There wasn't much left to keep an eye on. The Cultural Ministry was a loss, the tactical units from before had been pulled back because High Command was on alert and the civilian security forces were stretched thin throughout Iacon because tensions were high in the capital. Only a skeleton crew was left for security reasons, and that was just to ensure the safety of the recovery teams picking up the dead.
And now, his own team was accounted for, mostly intact, given Ironhide's wounds from that morning and those later incurred during the battle. Prime suffered his own damage, but it could wait. The safety and well-being of others was more important, no matter how much Ironhide groused about how as Prime, he was more important than all of them.
-----
Hot Rod stood at the ready, even though he felt like sinking to his knees and never getting up again. So many dead. . .and for what? He pushed the though from his mind. He had a job to do. And he'd do it until he was relieved or shot dead.
No one had said much about shooting a member of the Prime's unit, but they hadn't a chance. The Decepticons attacked not long after, and Hot Rod had been pulled under cover with Hound, one of the tactical unit commanders under Kup's supervision, Barricade, and the medic from Prime's unit, Ratchet. He'd done as he was told--even though he'd been terrified every single moment until reinforcements arrived, pushing the Decepticons back.
Now, Hot Rod was so tired he could barely stand, and it took every bit of pride he had to keep himself upright. He wasn't going to let Kup down, or himself. And he certainly wasn't going to meltdown like the sparkling he was in front of Prime. Not one slagging chance.
-----
Said Prime was watching the young mech with interest. He questioned Kup's wisdom, bringing one so young into such a situation, but it appeared he was holding up well. Still standing, weapon in hand, and he looked unharmed. But he knew from experience looks could be deceiving, so he decided to go check on the young mech.
Optimus watched the young mech pull himself up straight when he approached, defiance in the optics.
"Hot Rod, correct?" Optimus asked.
"Yes sir," Hot Rod said.
"Are you unharmed?"
"Not a scratch on me," Hot Rod said, flashing a grin. "Sir."
Optimus cocked an optic ridge. Not only did this one have gumption, but he was a cocky one also.
"This is the first time you've seen combat, wasn't it?" Optimus said.
The shoulders sagged a little, and some of the energy and defiance drained from the frame and optics.
"Yes, it was," Hot Rod said.
"Are you all right?"
"I said there wasn't a scratch on me," Hot Rod said, defiance flaring with a little anger this time.
"I can see that," Optimus said. "But it's all right if you were afraid. Even after all this time, after all the battles, I still. . ."
"You?" Hot Rod said. "Are afraid?"
"How could I not be? I'm responsible for so many--my unit, our people, this planet," Optimus said.
"It's just that. . ." Hot Rod said.
"I'm Prime? I may be Prime, it is the burden I bear, part of who I am, but I am not infallible," Optimus said. "If I was, then possibly this war might never have started."
Hot Rod considered what Prime said, leaning back against the wall he was standing in front of.
"You must be exhausted," Optimus said.
"Yes. And you're right--I was more than a little afraid," Hot Rod said. "Still am."
Optimus reached out, placing a hand on one of the younger mech's shoulders. "It's all right. Never forget that. It's when you stop being afraid. . ." he said. "You did well today. That's something to be proud of. Kup tells me you've been training."
Again, Hot Rod drew himself up with pride, but not as much this time, flashing a small smile. "Yes sir, I have," Hot Rod said. "And as soon as I can, I plan on joining the security forces."
Optimus smiled back, giving the shoulder a quick squeeze.
"I'm sure you'll do fine," he said. "But now I must go, but I'll wait until Kup comes back for you."
Hot Rod nodded, content to not have to be alone for a few moments after the day they'd all had.
-----
Ironhide glared at Ratchet as he soldered the blast mark on the big mech's chest.
"Hold still or I'll weld your aft to the bench," Ratchet said.
"It's not me, it's Jazz's piloting," Ironhide said.
"Jazz has flown this transport a thousand times and he never gives a bumpy ride," Ratchet said.
"Can I help?" Bumblebee asked.
"Sure," Ratchet said, moving to the blast mark over Ironhide's right eye and cheek. He probed the gouge with his fingers, causing Ironhide to jerk back in pain.
"I said hold still," Ratchet said.
"Keep your fingers out of places they shouldn't be and I might," Ironhide said.
Prime looked back from his spot in the co-pilot's seat, grinning.
"I'd do as he says, Ratchet," Prime said.
Ratchet ignored his leader.
"Ironhide, you're lucky you pulled back when you did because if you'd waited a second longer, you wouldn't have an optic," Ratchet said.
"Can you fix the wound or not?" Ironhide said.
"Because you waited so long, I'm afraid not. You know the plating on your face is much thinner, so you're going to have to live with the scar," Ratchet said.
"What?"
"You heard me," Ratchet said. "Next time be more careful. And learn to identify yourself."
"Yeah," Jazz said, looking back. "Don't want another sparkling taking you out."
Ratchet stifled a grin, Bumblebee didn't hide his laughter.
"Wait until Ultra Magnus sees that," Jazz said.
"We all know Magnus doesn't like him for his good looks," Ratchet said, not bothering to stop laughing this time.
Prime smiled, glad his unit had a chance to relieve some of their tension.
-----
Kup keyed in the code to their quarters, waited for the door to open. He had one arm around Hot Rod, holding him up as best he could. The young mech was half-way out, which, considering the events of the day, should have happened long before now, Kup thought, half-dragging his ward inside.
The lights came on at the movement, and he saw Springer, his other ward, passed out face down at his desk.
Kup frowned, dragging Hot Rod past, to his own quarters. Moments later, he came back into the living area, shook Springer awake and guided him to his own berth. Making sure Springer was out, he went back to check on Hot Rod, going for his stash of high grade on the way back.
Hot Rod was awake, sitting on the edge of the berth. "When did we get back?"
"Few minutes ago," Kup said. He sat down beside Hot Rod, handing him an empty container. He picked up his own, poured them both some high grade.
"How you doing, lad?"
"OK, I guess," Hot Rod said.
"You can talk if you need to," Kup said. "But first, I'd drink up. I don't break out the good stuff for just any occasion."
"Why tonight then?"
"Because I'm regrettin' draggin' you into that today, and every once in a while, I feel the need to forget what I've seen, and considering this is the first time you've seen combat, I bet you do to," Kup said. He took a long draught of his own high grade, then watched Hot Rod follow suit.
And then the young mech started to choke, Kup pounded him on the back.
"Slow down," Kup said.
Hot Rod nodded, following Kup's advice.
"I saw Prime spoke with you," Kup said.
"Yeah," Hot Rod said. "He was just checking on me. And he asked me if I was afraid."
"And what was your answer?" Kup asked.
"At first, I didn't admit it, but he saw right through me," Hot Rod said. "And he said it was all right to be afraid sometimes, so I told him I was. And to tell you the truth, I don't think I've ever been so terrified, Kup, never, as I was during the battle today. . ."
"Should've seen Prime the first time he saw combat," Kup said. "Nervous as a petrorabbit in a turbofox hole. . ."
"What?" Hot Rod said.
"I've known Prime since before he was your age," Kup said. "C'mon, lad, drink up. It's late, and we both need our rest."
-----
Long after Hot Rod fell into recharge, Kup stood at the door to the young mech's quarters, watching him. He felt remorse for dragging Hot Rod into the battle, but at the same time, it would've happened sooner or later, with the war going on. And at least it had been under his watchful optics, and Hot Rod had come through it alive.
And he'd checked on Springer, finding his other ward had waited up for them as long as he could, worried he hadn't heard anything from them all day. But not like Springer had openly admitted it. The way he said it, brushing it off with sarcasm spoke volumes to the ancient mech.
Springer wasn't yet training because he was technically under house arrest for attacking a Peacekeeper, but again, that was also just a matter of time.
Kup sighed, taking one last glance at Hot Rod before going to give Springer another look before turning in himself. Satisfied, he made his way to his own berth.
-----
The barracks. Home sweet home, Prime reflected as he made his way to his own quarters. Small though they were, it was his home, his refuge. He could've had a bigger suite, as Prime, but he turned it down because he was a soldier now, like it or not.
And though he was home, he couldn't yet bring himself to rest. Another battle lost in the war, so many dead for no good reason, lives torn apart.
Numbers. Names. Faces. Civilians, people he was sworn to protect, and again, he'd failed them. On the other side, his forces taking another hit in both morale and numbers.
And in the middle of it all, a barely grown sparkling nearly taking down Ironhide. If he wasn't so tired, he could've laughed, but he couldn't even muster up the energy to do that much. The sparkling, Hot Rod, Optimus remembered, had a hair-trigger in more ways than one. And now that they'd met, he was sure life was going to become much more interesting.