*Author's Note: Even though I know all of you are smart enough to figure out a simple formatting choice, I just wanted to specify that Bumblebee's dialogue is italicized and put in between asterisks. Of course, to human ears, it still sounds like a series of beeps and other sounds, but the Transformers understand him. So it seems fit to give him his own dialogue. Especially to keep the story flowing smoothly. Thank you, guys!
"Prime!"
Optimus lifted his helm from the in-development communication device Ratchet had been experimenting with and explaining to him. He turned to face the bearer of the loud call. "What can I do for you, Agent Fowler?
The dark-skinned human marched over from the door leading to the top of the base and placed his hands on the railing above the base floor. So he could be at eye level with the Transformers. "Are all you Autobots deaf and blind?"
The blue and red mech passed his bright blue optics over their small base. His four followers seemed just as confused about the question as he. His gaze returned to their guest. "I'm sorry, but I do not follow your implication."
"A vessel has landed in Nevada. A freaking spaceship, to be exact, and you didn't receive any kind of alarm?"
Ratchet's metal brows furrowed as he moved to their computer and hit a few keys. "Our alarms haven't been activated. It wasn't picked up by our radars."
Fowler threw up his hands and paced a small circle. "That spaceship had a giant robot inside that killed over twenty five special operatives. And you're telling me you picked up nothing?"
The medic huffed. "Yes, that is what I'm telling you. If you don't believe me, you can come look for yourself."
The human waved a hand. "Cool it. I sent you the video feed from one of the operative's helmet cam. Assuming you at least received that, I would like you to watch it."
Optimus gave a nod.
Ratchet frowned at Fowler's tone, but he typed in a few more commands into the computer as Arcee, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee gathered around the screen to watch. He hit the final key to play the footage.
The screen lit up with the late serviceman's video.
All the Autobots watched with rapt attention, listening to the audio as the human teams took their positions. Leaned closer when the foreign spaceship came into view.
Arcee pointed a tapering finger at the red paint decorating the craft. "I think there's Cybertronian mixed in with the designs. But it's so fluid, I can't make out what it says."
Optimus stayed quiet. There was Cybertronian painted with the designs. He could read it. The words boasted of a high number of kills and which bots were still on the hit list. Some names he recognized, and some names he had never heard of before.
Bumblebee's signature beeps emerged. *I don't think I've ever seen a ship designed like that.*
Bulkhead crossed his arms. "That's because it's hand-made. Somebot scraped a bunch of other ships and built this of their own accord. It's basically a junker."
They fell silent again when the humans in the footage discovered the robot.
"That's…" Ratchet tilted himself even closer to the screen. "That's a basic form. Similar to a newly-given protoform. Or its armor is designed to resemble that. Though, I couldn't tell you why."
Fowler rested his elbows on the railing. "Can you tell if it's friend or foe?"
Ratchet scoffed. "I can't even tell if it's a femme or a mech. So that answer is no."
In the video, the blast emitted, plunging the feed into darkness.
Arcee's helm snapped to Optimus. "There's only a few 'Cons that we know can do that, and we know where they currently all are."
"What is this thing?" Bulkhead mumbled.
Agent Fowler hung his head in solemn reverence when the carnage began to play.
The Autobots, with the exception of Prime, gasped at the human horrors when the light of the control panel returned to brighten the camera's recording.
Bumblebee indicated to the unknown robot's silver orbs. *Does anybot have optics like those?*
Ratchet shook his helm. "Not that I've ever seen. And I've been around a lot longer than you."
They turned away when Alpha's head was ripped from his body.
The sole human in the Autobot base rubbed his face with both hands and heavily sighed. "After this first encounter, the robot then took out two more special operative teams and five fighter jets in a matter of minutes."
Arcee's hands went to her hips. "That's ruthless. Even for a 'Con. Are we sure this thing is Cybertronian?"
Optimus finally broke his silence. "Ratchet rewind the feed. Freeze it there." His keen optics studied the image on the screen. The helm of the robot was in perfect view as it had picked up Alpha. He realized the lack of features was a deliberate act. But why hide its identity? "Agent Fowler, where is this robot now?"
Fowler straightened. "Still with its ship. Still in its original crash location. It won't move, and I won't let anymore humans near it until you guys deal with the crazy machine. Our weapons have no effect on it, and I'm not keen on dropping a nuke. I'm hoping you'll bring a less deadly option to the table."
The blue and red mech stared at the screen for a few more nanocycles. "I promise you we'll do what we can."
The human gave a nod. "Ratchet will have the coordinates for a ground bridge."
"No." The Prime's tone was resolute. "It's not far from here. We'll drive. I don't want to give it premature access to our base. Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Arcee, roll out. Ratchet, I want you to remain here and cross reference that image against our databases. See if you can provide us with any information."
The medic nodded. "I'll be more than happy to. But, Optimus, please be careful. This thing has the potential to tear you all apart."
Optimus remained wordless. He knew Ratchet's statements were true. Even though the feed had been black during the humans' destruction, he could tell the robot was quick, precise. Most likely, it was the result of rigid training. Meaning there was no saying how much skill this warrior actually possessed. If this was a real warrior.
Part of him wondered if this was a new experiment of Shockwave's.
Yet, this new robot boasted no badge. The Decepticons were proud of themselves. If this was a Shockwave creation, it would be clearly identified as a Decepticon. Autobots respected innocent life on all planets. At least, that was what he hoped for his troop. However, he had yet to see one of his Autobots slaughter like this invader had done.
He pondered Arcee's question. Was it Cybertronian? If not, then what? The humans were far from producing this kind of technology. His processor flickered back to the age of the Quintessons, but he shook his helm to rid himself of the thoughts. Still, the most basic form of armor this robot was clad in hinted back to the era of when the Quintessons had Cybertron enslaved. Protoform-like, as Ratchet had put it.
"Optimus?"
The medic's concerned inquiry brought the last Prime's processor back to the present. A quick scan of the base informed him the other three Autobots had already left. "Search the databases, Ratchet. Be on standby in case I call. Agent Fowler, I want you to stay away from this fight. Let us handle this one."
Both Ratchet and Fowler weren't pleased with this new development, but they conceded to the leader's commands.
Prime glanced between the two before inclining his helm. Effortlessly transformed into his semi-truck alternate form and drove out.
Arcee led Bumblebee and Bulkhead down a dark, desert highway. "Is Prime really not coming with us?"
Bumblebee chimed in first, not wanting anybot to think that Optimus wouldn't help. *He'll get here when he can. He wouldn't leave us to fight this thing alone.*
Bulkhead agreed. "Bee's right. Prime is just most likely arguing with Ratchet over whether the old bot can come along or not."
Bumblebee chuckled. *Or Agent Fowler. Both of them are stubborn and would argue with Optimus.*
The Wrecker laughed. "You are right, there. Though, I'm not sure what the point is in arguing with Prime. He generally knows what he's doing."
*I don't think I've ever seen him be wrong.*
Arcee shushed them both as she pulled up behind a rock grouping and transformed. Waited for the pair of mechs to do the same. Kept her voice low. "We're here. Stay alert and quiet."
The alien spaceship sat just a thousand feet away. Surrounded by smoking debris still on fire. What was left of the small human resistance. The robot responsible was nowhere in sight.
Bumblebee glanced at Bulkhead, shifting nervously.
The femme scanned the area. "I'm not picking up anything."
Bulkhead peered over the cluster of rocks they used as a shield. "Neither am I. Where is it? I thought Fowler said it was still here."
The yellow and black scout happened to look over his shoulder behind them. Screeched a warning.
The other two whirled around, weapons at the ready.
There stood the slate gray robot. Motionless. With one hip cocked tauntingly to the side.
Bulkhead stepped forward first, hitting his fists together as a challenge. "If you're a 'Bot, we can do this the easy way. If you're a 'Con, we can do this the hard way. Choice is yours."
The robot, who was a helm taller than Bumblebee and no more than half the weight of the Wrecker, shifted its right hand into a long blade.
"Hard way it is, then." Unleashing his signature battle cry, he rushed forward.
The unidentified alien stayed still until the last nanocycle. Vaulted itself into a front flip over the Wrecker's head. Slicing off both of his fists in the process.
Bulkhead cried out as he stumbled to the ground. Bright blue energon pouring from his nubs.
Arcee and Bumblebee advanced without hesitation. They fired their hand cannons rapidly. Moving to flank the robot on each side.
This meant nothing to the robot. It dodge the blasts instinctively. Headed straight for the motorcycle. It came on full-force to the femme, smashing its helm against hers.
The blue and pink femme faltered, stepping back a few paces. She tried clearing her processor, but she wasn't fast enough. Before she could assess what was happening, the back of her left knee was shattered inward, sending her to the sand in calls of pain. A blade entered her left side. Then she was tossed against Bulkhead.
Bumblebee bolted for the unwanted visitor.
The robot once again waited until the last nanocycle. Twirled to the right and out of the way while transforming both hands into cannons. Shot the smaller mech in the back.
The young scout flew forward, his face plates skidding into the desert.
It shoved a hard foot into his back. Grabbed the pair of doors that looked like fake wings and ripped them out, tossing them to the side.
Another player arrived on the battlefield.
Drifting sideways, Optimus transformed to bot mode without stopping. Using the momentum to sprint into action. Both of his hands were his infamous cannons, and his face plate armor was engaged. "Enough!"
The robot pivoted, turning its back on the trio it had just defeated. Slowly straightened. Its blade retracted. But its awed gaze never left the last of the Primes.
Optimus searched his warriors. Let his optics meet the striking silver ones of the unknown. It didn't attack him. Why? Why did it appear to recognize him? He didn't know the silver optics, and those were not a pair a bot would forget.
Bulkhead staggered to his feet. With a grunt, he slammed his helm into the back of the robot's while it was stunned by Optimus's presence. Watched it fall unconscious to the desert floor. Offered a lopsided grin to his leader.
The blue and red Prime put away his pair of cannons and disengaged his lower fascia mask. Activated the comm on the side of his blue helm. "Ratchet, we need that ground bridge. And your medical assistance."