This is the prequel to the New Dinobots. Now some of you might notice that some of the flashbacks, memories or background stories some of the Transformers have seem like they came from other stories here on . It is likely they did. I have read a lot of fan fiction based of Transformers and there are some great stories out there and some writers have given me ways to have certain events happen in my story. If you see something here that seems familiar to you, please let me know who the author is and the name of their story because it is possible that I am using someone else's idea in my story and I would like you to help me credit these other writers for their work. I would do the research myself but I barely have the time to write my own stories let alone do research needed to credit people how inspired me here in fanfiction.
I do not own Transformers.
Ratchet sighed as he stared out the window. He was still readjusting to being back from the dead. Apparently some slagging aliens called the Quintessons had him and the others resurrected from the battle for Autobot City. Ratchet looked out the window and scowled. All the thick clouds of the gas giant made it impossible to see. It was a bit like remembering the time of the resurrection, Ratchet could not see anything in his memory bank but he knew something was there.
Ratchet sat back down and returned to sipping on his high grade. The only light in the room came from the energon he was slowly consuming. Ratchet watched the purple light reflect off of the polished surfaces in his room as he swirled the liquid in its cube. Ratchet honestly did not understand the mood he was in. He had been dead and now once again, for some reason only known to Primus, he was alive. He remembered the shuttle flight to Autobot city on Earth, the Decpticons attacking, the burning in his circuits as their fire struck him in the chest. He should be dead, he was dead, and now he wasn't.
Knowing how he came back was the worst of all. The Quintessons had done it to him and the others who had fallen in the battle for Autobot City. They had returned him and the others to life but not alive. Their bodies were not theirs; they were not the masters of themselves. They were slaves, puppets, for the Quintessons. Ratchet and the others were aware of what these ancient enemies of Cybertron were up to, but there was nothing they could do about it. He watched as Ironhide, Wheeljack and the others would lifelessly follow the instructions of their captures. Somehow Prowl was somewhat immune to the machinations of the Quintessons and somehow alerted Bluestreak to their situation. Bluestreak and Optimus Prime were able to come and save him and the others, but what had happened had left Ratchet feeling empty, and left questions in his processor. If he was a living thing then how could he just be repaired and controlled like he was, and if he was a machine than why did his spark ache under the weight of these questions.
Making matters worse was the fact that he was no longer the Autobots' chief medical officer. He was pleased to see First Aid's accomplishments but Ratchet felt underutilized as a member of medical team on the Autobots' space-dock and was finding himself generally bored, which allowed his processor to form an infinite loop of questions he could not answer.
Ratchet looked at the glowing energon and asked the un-listening universe, "So what am I supposed to do with myself now?"
As if to answer the alert on Ratchet's com sounded notifying him of an incoming message. The HUD in Ratchet's optics notified him that it was an incoming communication from Wheeljack.
"Ratchet here," acknowledged Ratchet while wondering what possible reason Wheeljack would have to call him at this time of night.
"Hey Ratchet, exciting news, Perceptor has found some interesting energy readings in a gas and rock formation around the star in the Ursa Major, as the humans call it. I've volunteered to be on the exploration team and we were wondering if you would like to come along too? It should be a blast. It will at least be something to do."
"I've got plenty to do Wheeljack."
"Really?" came the sardonic reply, "Well I guess someone needs to sit in the dark and drink by himself while scowling."
"Are you spying on me?" demanded an enraged Ratchet.
"No I just know you that is all," calmly replied Wheeljack. "You should think about joining Perceptor and I, it will be fun and it will give you something to do other than sit around grinding your processor over questions that can't be answered."
"Not interested!"
"Seriously? You are really going to tell me that?" After a moment of silence Wheeljack continued, "Look Ratchet I need this. What happened to us is driving me crazy and I know it has to be doing the same to you. Look Ratchet, we need to do something and trying to answer the unanswerable won't do any good so I think that trying something new will do us both good. What do you say?"
"I have a job here," replied Ratchet.
"Really? You call that a job? It is beneath you Ratchet! I'm offended at the insult offering you that position is. I nurse-bot could do it."
"It was the only opening First Aid had and I don't think patients would feel comfortable with a doctor raised from the dead, do you?" demanded Ratchet.
"Well I think the crew on the ship we are taking will be quite comfortable with you in the med lab." Replied Wheeljack cryptically.
"Who is this crew you are talking about?"
"I'm not telling, you'll have to come and find you," replied Wheeljack with an amused tone.
Ratchet turned and scowled at the opaque view coming in from the window, "Fine, at least the view will be better. When do we leave?"
"Report to port 56-delta in two and a half cycles," came Wheeljack's answer.
"Fine I'll be… wait port 56-delta? That's the…"
"I know," answered a gleeful Wheeljack. "I told you this was going to be fun."
Thank you for reading.