Nothing is Small

by hummergrey

Think you know the story? The Transformer tales with the fuller added backstory, an ongoing series: First up: SOS Dinobots. Explanations for behavior and actions that made no sense like Prime ordering the Dinobots buried, the Autobots defying his orders and water paralyzing? Megatron slow to act? Huh what! moments. To a great mind nothing is small or ignored, even a single detail.

1. Chapter 1 Creating Dinobots & Disaster

Author's Notes: These are the related adventures behind what you think you know of events. Kind of like the "Explanations" fic but not movie centered, instead the cartoons and comics. No order to which one chosen. Please set STORY ALERT and FAVORITE to track this one as most will be multiple chapters per show chosen.

:: Internal comms between specific bots or groups not audibly heard by anyone or anybot else. May be encrypted or hackable ::

All rights owned by Hasbro, Rhino and whoever else their lawyers signed up with paperwork.

S.O.S. DINOBOTS

Season 1 episode 7. October 27, 1984

Part One

The Ark, Autobot base – Mt St Hilary, Oregon State

"A plan within a plan within a plan."

Prowl's palm swipe over the datapad screen paused the scrolling supply requests. The black and white armored officer could correlate no obvious reference Prime made while staring with narrowed optics at the nearest blank wall. One of the few in the Ark's command center, Teletran One being the dominant centerpiece. Personally Prowl missed the forward split view screens and the view of space, brief their journey had been from Cybertron but it remained a treasured memory. Craggy earth rocks jutted in instead, another reminder of the alien nature of the organic world. The Vanguard class starship served as their home and war base in the fight for earth, Cybertron dark and nearly abandoned by both sides. The multiple level ship would never fly, the engines smashed beyond repair in the crash landing. But it served its purpose beyond its design. Prowl waited until the silence became uncomfortable if he was missing an expected response.

"Were you talking to me sir?"

Focusing on his Second in Command instead of the wall, Prime's deep blue optics widened. "Not directly. Megatron has not appeared on the grid since our last encounter. I fear what he may be planning."

"Off sulking you mean. We kicked Decepticon aft on Cybertron and brought back the part needed to save ya. Then you accepted Megatron's challenge to kick his aft. Did a right good job of it too," Ironhide interrupted, pausing at his workstation. Ratchet and Wheeljack moved closer, laying their data pads on the main worktable to join the discussion. The inventor's sidebars flashed soft green in agreement with Ironhide, locking down the memory of the fear they would lose their friend until the desperate space bridge jump to his old lab.

"Prime is right. Silence indicates trouble, like plotting twins," Ratchet commented thoughtfully. His red and white armored build matched Ironhide's being of similar frame and alt mode.

"I heard that. I am standing, or rather working right here you know," Sideswipe's tone held a note of teasing. His red armored legs jutted out of the far console, tools and wiring nearby next to the removed access panels. The rest of him remained inside the unit, flashes of light sparking with his welding.

"I believe…." Whatever Prime intended was interrupted by the first tremor. The light rippling feeling traveled across the floor, the data pads tapping on the consoles as they braced. The shaking increased with lights flickering and dull rumbling sounds spiking until floor plates literally rocked underneath them. Battle computer's powered online, subspace fields activated automatically as their sparks sped up. The two furthest data pads slid, tipping over the table edge to land with a resounding metal clang as the shaking tapered off.

"Ah hate this. Tremors and not trusting this planet's core. Too active if you ask me," Ironhide complained, bending down and scooping the two data pads up.

::All mechs report in. Zone check authorized immediately:: Red Alert's comm carried high priority across their relays.

"Does he have to do that every time to verify if there is a bolt out of place?" Ratchet rolled his optics, frowning at the data pads clattered down. "Easy Ironhide. We need those." Wheeljack and Sideswipe ignored both mechs, checking in their active status and no damage apparent.

"Zone checks are good practice for catching safety issues," Prime stated, smiling fondly. "These tremors remind me of rolling across Cybertron's highest flex bridges and feeling the surface dip and move under you."

"Or being on an itchy Cityformer. Mechs never stay still as we rolled or walked over their expansion joints," Ironhide grumped, tapping the floor with a footpad for soundness. The metal pinged under his metal pad, a solid sound and secure.

"You guys feel that?" Spike ran in, the yellow hardhat in place on his head. The young human male wore his usual jeans and yellow work shirt, the hardhat a requirement around most of the Transformers and especially the past week with the increasing tremors.

"Kind of hard to miss," Wheeljack greeted the human before venting as the floor rippled again.

"If you ask me, the Decepticons are behind these shakeups Optimus Prime. You know how that junk punk Rumble likes to make earthquakes," Ironhide grumbled, bracing. Sideswipe slid out from underneath the console and approached, the Transformers instinctively moving together for reassurance as teammates, on the battlefield or off. Spike walked around, listening for the deeper bass tones of the rumblings.

::Tremor strength confirmed directly north of us, beyond the rock wall:: Wheeljack noted, intent on the readings. His sidebars barely flashed blue green with his intense focus on the volcano's embedded sensors.

Prowl logged the corresponding data, forwarding it to the general log, splitting his attention between work entries and the wandering human under ped. Any sign of collapse or shifting within the room and he would grab the fragile human and shield him.

::At least Spike is attempting to use his senses to detect danger. More than most humans:: Ratchet sent. He recorded the heightened brain activity within the young man and faster pulse, perspiration and breathing while searching.

::They are a young race and have much to learn:: Prime counseled.

::And their senses are pitifully weak. Ah got more in my left hand than their whole body. Any bot going to tell him that wall is solid or let him walk into it? :: Ironhide added as Spike pressed against the stony surface.

::Figured out where at least:: Wheelajck reacted to Spike's excited comment when discovering what they knew.

::Let's humor him:: Ironhide stated, the main arm panel on his right arm popping up. He noted Spike's approving smile as the mini dish transformed out with the answering data flowing across his simulated windscreen mirroring Teletran's display.

"If Decepticons are burrowing behind that rock, my sonar-a-dar sensors will sniff them out. No Decept-a-creeps but there is something weird in there."

::You actually found something?:: Wheeljack challenged, his surprised look hid beneath his facemask.

::Ah ain't lying. Organic material transmitting like rock and unusual shaped pieces. Worth checking out:: Ironhide displayed the image of a dinosaur skeleton.

::I concur. We will excavate:: Prime agreed and authorized.

::But keep the mess to a minimum. Sideswipe and I have spent joors repairing the consoles in here including Teletran:: Ratchet added.

Twenty minutes later, another split appeared in the rock barrier with Sideswipe's relentless hammering cracking the weakened vein. ::I haven't done this type work since I left the mines:: Sideswipe sent, not bothering to try and shout to be heard.

::I thought you twins were gladiators at Kaon:: Brawn quizzed, the rumbling of his gears increasing as his dual engines engaged to heave a boulder twice his size to the side effortlessly. A mini bot experienced with manual labor in construction projects, the green and brown armored mech matched the other's strength plus.

::Miners first, like Megatron. Sparked into endless debt owing to the mining high family of our district. As third framers, we wanted more than to offline in metal fall. Only other option for bots our low class was the battle dome. Our twin spark link helped but we earned our skill in the fighting pits and erased our debts to buy our freedom. We left Kaon for better opportunities to find peace, unlike Megatron and his army to start the war. Sunstreaker wanted to be a graphics artist and I wrote holodeck fiction adventures. Then Prowl and Jazz recruited us for the Autobot side as front line battlers after a night of high grade adventures through a Decepticon base camp :: Sideswipe answered. Arm pistons pumping, the rock's solid surface fractured cracking apart under his relentless pounding.

::I would love to hear that story another time. My clan family did the prep and post work. Blasted the metal cores deep inside Cybertron's surfaces or removed old surface structures. During the prewar years, more building than destroying meant a huge need for new metal plating. My choices were either demolitions expert or make endless trips down and back to the surface loaders guiding the metal carriers:: Brawn

::You were never worried about becoming flying bits and wires working with powerful mixes?:: Sideswipe

::My work was either right or I would be in so many pieces I would never care or know I screwed up until crossing into the Well of Sparks:: Brawn

:: Point. Breakthrough! Widen it enough for Prime to fit and let's see what we got in here:: Sideswipe sent. Minutes later, he stared around the enormous stone cavern in amazement. ::It's as large as our old mine tunnels. Planet made::

::It is amazing:: Wheeljack noted, following Prime and the others inside. Ironhide led the way as front point as Spike and Prime walked alongside over the rocky uneven surface. Wheeljack followed them, his pace slower as he took multiple scan readings throughout the huge space. Sideswipe and Brawn took outer flank positions, armor shifting to draw in cooling air to hard worked frames. The disrupted ground appeared to have cooled rapidly eons before, sealing the bones into solid rock with the hardened stone muffling the sounds of their steps without any dust to stir up. They passed a triple pointed skeleton frame half sunk to its height in solid rock. Beyond it lay the partially concealed bone alignment of a brontosaurus, the rib bones large enough for smaller Transformers to walk under.

"Dinosaurs. Animals that ruled earth millions of years ago," Spike identified.

::Ark crash into the Volcano wiped the creatures offline. Never had time to react before the impact wave struck:: Wheeljack theorized, picking up another bone fragment.

::Like us with one of your lab explosions:: Ratchet teased, long use to putting the inventor back together.

::I do not find that humorous:: Wheelajck

::Humerus to me:: Ratchet quipped, pointing at the bone. ::The bone? Humerus? A play on words for the human arm bone? Never mind::

::Hardee har har medic :: Wheeljack

Jazz peered at the large bone shapes, the T-rex head alone nearly his entire frame height. The blue flaring of his visor the only indicator of his artistic subfiles activating, trying to figure out what had that as an underneath framing. Not one square or straight line present on the skull as he expected, the teeth jagged and foreign to the metal spy. "Dinosaurs eh? They must have been ugly suckers."

"I would like to know more about them," Wheeljack announced.

"As would I," Prime agreed. "Perhaps Spike would continue our dinosaur education."

::What education? He said they were animals and former rulers. Ain't that enough? :: Ironhide challenged over the comms least he insult the boy.

::Rulers like Quintessons or Allspark Temple code readers? All ancient history and little bearing on our existence now:: Sideswipe

::We can do more research ourselves in one joor than a lifetime of the human species learning:: Brawn

::Human world, human history. And no more research ourselves ! Not after our attempts garnered those vivid research errors! :: Prime shuddered, repressing certain images.

::Not errors, more detail on organics than you could handle. And I never authorized mating rituals, live births or eating practices worldwide before any of you complain. You found those on your own trying to surf the human internet:: Ratchet reminded.

::I'm interested, in the dinosaurs that is. Let me accompany the boy and I can retrieve the data:: Hound offered, wanting to experience more earth culture.

::Agreed. Accompany as Guardian and bring back pertinent detail :: Prime ordered.

::Right away Prime:: Hound saluted, locking in scans of the bones to learn more about those specific cavern remains.

Great Falls – Between the Cascade Locks Area and Multnomah Falls, The Gorge, Oregon state

Gasps of wonder disappeared under the rushing water sounds of the Great Falls, the human made waterfall falling over the precipice into the locks area below. The dam edged between the rocky cliff and the immense water shape, perched on the edge with rebar and concrete shoring. Built to withstand years of hammering pressure, the design fitted the protected wildlife area with minimum human impact. The energy supplied not only the Gorge area but up the power lines to the vast city scape of Portland, Oregon. The endless power demand by the growing metropolis requiring around the clock staff to maintain the dam's generators with the latest technologic equipment. The sturdiness of the dam viewing platform gave the human family the opportunity to feel the mist on their faces and marvel at the sheer amount of water gushing past. The human boy of about nine years old stood between his parents, behaving for the promise of a giant ice cream cone at the Cascade Locks fast food hut.

Below the concrete viewing platform, the large blue metal disc attached to the rocks recorded every word of the dad's teaching on electricity. The expansion cable, if they had followed it down linked into a giant size blue tape recorder. The device, unusual in size would have offlined any human instantly if challenged or neared. Perched on the rocks, Soundwave kept his alt mode shields tight lest any of the water get into his simulated cassette deck. Last thing the torture specialist and information officer needed was his cassettes grumbling about moisture, more than they already were.

::How long are we going to spark sit this tub drain?:: Rumble

:: Data required. Multiple operational fields:: Soundwave sent back to his hidden cassette, tracking Laserbeak's signal as the winged cassette soared above.

::Multi fields of what? Misery? Let's attack and tear the place apart. Make cubes and leave:: Frenzy

::Negative. Planning and stealth required. Lord Megatron ordered:: Soundwave

::Does that mean going home to Cybertron soon? Our ship is underwater, I miss flying over metal:: Buzzsaw

::We suffered enough building around the sunken Nemesis after the crash. No more water:: Ravage

Laserbeak analyzed the last stone sample, the hole drilled precisely with his laser optics. The final information requested on the surrounding land gathered and analyzed.

"Data gathering complete Reflector," Soundwave transformed to his full mech size, towering over the multi sparked Reflector. The large camera transformed apart into three separate mechs, the middle mech with the distinct camera lens on his chest as their sensor scans finished. The mechs were anxious to leave and report back to Megatron. Their specialty skill set for data collection kept them useful to a waring army and away from scientists and lab experimentation on their shared spark. Protection by Megatron over the vorns meant more than any amount of energon payment or offered command position to the rare trio, even from Shockwave or Starscream. And Megatron would be pleased with what they had discovered. Taking flight, they flew towards their hidden base with jammers on full. Only human eyes could see them and the few who did were invariably killed or their stories ignored as fabricated tales without proof as the Decepticons never flew the same route twice.

The Ark, Autobot base – Mt St Hilary, Oregon State

"And?" Prime prompted, welcoming Hound and Spike back as the others gathered closer to hear.

"The museum was exciting. Never been to one before. Like a three-dimensional learning room in our second frame schools. And my entry fee was discounted. Apparently my age made me a senior. Half price daytime," Hound answered, warming up his holographic generator to cover the Command Center and immerse them in the images.

"Any trigger warnings we need to know about?" Ratchet prompted, having dealt with enough processor aches and problems in med bay already.

"None. I promise no dinosaur eating dinosaur holos even if the T-Rex is a walking fang factory," Hound chuckled, confirming the scans of the Brontosaurus, Tyrannosaurus Rex and Triceratops ready and life sized.

"Very impressive," Prime noted as the holo shapes formed around them. The large flesh creatures paled before even the Guardian mechs back on Cybertron but for organics, they were impressive compared to the modern-day humans and their pets of cats or dogs. The holographic four legged Brontosaurs moved into the water, its long neck and head clear as it swam across.

::Oh no:: Ironhide groaned, deep venting.

::What?:: Prime prodded, glancing down at his Weapons Specialist.

::Wheeljack. He's got that look. He is processing and that ain't good:: Ironhide

::Hear him out:: Prime

Wheeljack began explaining an idea of robot dinosaurs, able to challenge the Decepticons. And Ratchet agreed, bringing reason to the plan. "If it is okay with Optimus Prime."

"They might be useful," Prime pondered, watching the Triceratops fighting the taller T-Rex. Battle simulations ran, gauging the fight between the triple horned beast and the taller fanged animal. 'Not too different than some of our fights,' he realized. 'Weapons, armored enhancements and size differentials. I can imagine Megatron being cornered by them. Might teach him humility being trampled under ped.'

The Autobot civilian inventor and Chief Medical Officer waited, needing official authorization. They received it, with the conditions on every bot being a volunteer to help build and work on the parts and not ordered. Official duties were still required of the mechs and any attack by Megatron or the Decepticons took precedence. 'What are we getting into?' Prime wondered then dismissed it. Ratchet was the steadying force on Wheeljack and with so many mechs involved it might work well enough to save their sparks and be the help needed.

Days later Prime checked off another update, impressed the Dinobots presentation date remained unchanged from original estimates. Decks below in his workshop, the presentation date was foremost in Wheeljack's processing and feelings of pressure.

::What now?:: Wheeljack snapped, his irritation affecting his vocal tones as he answered the incoming communication ping.

Standing in med bay, Ratchet could imagine the inventor standing in his lab, welder in hand and his sidebars flashing an angry red color. :: Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are both on punishment detail cleaning the med bay tonight. Do you have a backup for the drilling welds?::

::Oh. I processed you were Brawn or the other mini bots asking more directions. I sent them the plans for Grimlock's chest and arms, and they keep triple checking every sizing dimension as if the arms are too small and the chest plating too big! I am behind schedule on making the brain processors:: Wheeljack

::You are keeping the brain controls small as agreed?:: Ratchet

::Yes. Working on the spark spires delayed me more than:: Wheeljack

::What? Spark spires? These are front line drones not mechs. Did Prime or Prowl approve this? Where are we getting three sparks? And the Dinobots would be sparklings not warriors! Have you been self-experimenting again? Did a femme ?:: Ratchet exploded over the comm, rapidly firing questions.

::Easy Ratch. Planning for the future only. Spark chambers deep inside and wired for future use. Save us retro fitting through all that armor:: Wheeljack

::I'll retro you if this goes bad. We have one chance to show our design work. Our reputations are on the line:: Ratchet

::Blame me if it goes bad. Every bot processes I am a failure anyways:: Wheeljack

::Not! And if I ever hear you call yourself a failure again, I am dragging you by your side fins for a deep personality scan Jack! You are the greatest inventor of our generation if not on Cybertron! Lab explosions aside, your work is everywhere throughout this ship and our frame builds and weapons. Anything I can do to help speed the process up?:: Ratchet

::Negative. Three simulated brain processors but each different for personality basics and allowing their fighting styles and movements. Tall and short armed or four legged and helm heavy with three battle points.:: Wheeljack vented deeply, touched by his friend's confidence. :: And Prowl is my choice.::

:: Why would you use him and his logic glitch as the base line?:: Ratchet quizzed.

::No, Prowl for the drilling welds. His precision is almost an art form. I'm using a combination of battle protocols and subroutines to build the Dinobots coding for both physical force and weaponized fighting :: Wheeljack clarified, his weariness straining as the recharge warning beeped for the ninth time. The risk of being tired and missing a critical component was outweighed by the presentation deadline fast approaching in his calculations.

The Nemesis (Warship crashed underwater) – Decepticon Base, Pacific Ocean

The satisfaction Megatron felt didn't show except in his vocal tone and choice of words. The silver color armored Kaon Warlord stood tall, feet pads apart and shifted outward to compensate for the heavier weight of the war cannon on his right arm. "I learned from Sherman Dam and the Autobot encounter there. Enslaving the organic world to the Decepticon cause rather than fighting it will give us an advantage. Let Prime and his pathetic excuse for warriors cater to the weakling organics. Playing nice with them while I plan for conquest.'

Starscream, in his bright red and blue color scheme strode into the room followed by his trine mates. Red optics narrowed as the Seeker royal spotted Soundwave and Reflector. Starscream's processing could not be read by Soundwave, the result of a processor surge accident the seeker could never duplicate. 'Not that he has any brilliant plans to discover,' Megatron processed sourly. The Fallen's advice on keeping a second in command always hungry for the top position echoed. The practice kept Megatron alert and taking precautions that would have been ignored otherwise and allowed Prime or another to usurp him. Any true threat to his dictatorship over the Decepticons had been extinguished vorns before. The pathetic way Starscream failed in his plans were amusing enough Megatron kept him, for now.

Soundwave barely nodded, the slight blue helm tilt the only external sign of his team's success. Data flowed between them, metallurgy, geology, electrical engineering, and weaponization into logistical needs and the fledging of a battle plan. Megatron took it, adding his own layers with the confirmation numbers until today, the culmination of hard work.

"A perpetual power source exists," Megatron explained to his troops. Starscream fiddled as he talked, showing disrespect and an anxiousness to battle. 'That seeker never learns. Wanting to crown himself on top without building the underlying pillars drenched in spilled energon from conquered foes.'

"I suppose you devised a brilliant plan for seizing it, eh Leader," Starscream snarked.

His red optics narrowed further as Megatron considered blasting Starscream for his insolence then didn't. He needed the Seekers to keep the Autobots busy when the attacked, keeping the focus on fighting and not Megatron or the next step to their doom. The use of the word 'leader' was not lost on him either. "Affirmative Starscream." Deliberately ignoring all the other's titles, most of them self given and not earned would irritate the Seeker as did the tone Megatron used as though speaking to a youngling. "We attack the falls at once. Decepticons, prepare for conquest."

"What's the plan?"

"That is for me to know and you to carry out your part, if you can," Megatron challenged back. He had used the words 'we attack' as a reminder and the seeker had failed yet again to understand his place.

"I will lead us to glorious victory, rest assured Leader."

"We shall see. To the air!"

Flying to the Dam, Megatron kept his mech form rather than subspace down and be carried as a weapon. 'I wonder if Prime knows how easy he has it with his troops. No wondering if he is about to be attacked, keeping these slaggers in line. Bah, the friction sands off the jagged edges, leaving polished perfection. And at the end of this day, I shall stand triumphant and powerful.'

The Ark, Autobot base – Mt St Hilary, Oregon State

Ratchet huffed through his vents, the only outward sign of exasperation. Wheeljack rehearsed his speech for the twentieth time as the last Autobots assembled in a straight line. 'Is this a morning inspection or debut?' he processed. The command room with Teletran One would have worked but Wheeljack had insisted on the rocky cavern where the bones were found as the backdrop for their presentation. The mini bots from Bumblebee to Cliffjumper started the line at the leftmost edge, the mechs in order more by height than anything all the way to Optimus Prime on the right. Unsurprisingly Prowl and Jazz stood midline next to each other, long use to hiding their command ranks during the battles on Cybertron to confuse spark snipers. The twins Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stood side by side letting Ironhide and Trailbreaker guard their Prime, more habit than obeying any orders. Ratchet remembered early conversations and arguments about their overprotectiveness after Prime Sentinel's ship disappeared and Optimus became their last known Prime. "Primus let this work; we need the help.'

"And especially Optimus Prime," Wheeljack continued his speech until even Ratchet got tired of it, mouthing the final words and gesturing at the same time Wheeljack spoke them. "Autobots, meet Dinobots." The lights brightened, revealing their true size and vivid color schemes of red, yellow, silver and grey. The deep blue optics and optical visor on Grimlock remained darkened even as the bright Red Autobot insignias shone in the light. Each mech stood upright in a bi pedal form, their alt form panels in pieces and rotated back. Each faceplate pattern distinct and their stocky frame include hands and block feet, the argument against claws or talons in mech form. 'Let their dinosaur modes be scary, their builds based on us and leader class mechs,' Ratchet had argued, winning against Wheeljack's preferences on that one point. Wheeljack thereby allowed to choose their names, Grimlock, Sludge and Slag.

The other Autobots look impressed by the size and massive armor plating, especially those not directly involved in the Dinobot assembly. The presentation continued, Ratchet kicking himself vorns later for not processing two things quick enough. Confirming their brain programming ready the night before enough for on lining and the wording of his single command to "Be quick about it,' for removing rock debris, weapons fire fitting the 'quick' command.

Jazz and Hound reacted first, their special operations training detecting the threat the quickest as targeting sensors locked onto them after the debris rocks vaporized. Wheeljack's explanation of the Dinobots limited mental functioning capacity was fate's way of emphasizing a point Ratchet processed later. The words had barely been uttered when all pit broke loose. He would remember reaching out to tap Wheeljack to turn around even as his encrypted urgent comm message flared.

::You did remember to designate us as friendlies?:: Ratchet asked.

Slag growled, plodding towards his creators before sweeping upward with his head and catapulting them into the air.

::I might have missed that part:: Wheeljack admitted sheepishly as both mechs hit the metal floor hard and rolled trying to disburse the kinetic energy.

The metal triceratops stopped, processes selecting his next target as the human father and son began panicking. Sludge stomped his hydraulic enhanced foot, the pressure shockwave knocking down the mechs in pairs. The brontosaurus growled but did not directly attack. A downed enemy was below his targeting horizon. Bluestreak fired first to his credit, attempting to protect the mini bots.

Ratchet rolled onto his side, raising up to see disaster. He watched Prime subspace out his ion rifle before he could be warned. 'Don't do that!" Ratchet started to yell as the blast ricocheted off Slag's armor and back into Prime. The CMO winced as Prime flew backwards into the metal wall as though hit by Megatron himself and fell, the rifle dropped. 'Pit! Our protocols are designating the Dinobots as fellow Autobots and we can only use energy weapons in this enclosed space.'

::Could this get any worse?:: Wheeljack sent, holding a cracked arm against his chest plates. He remained half sprawled on the floor, internal compensators spinning from his less than graceful impact and tumbling.

::You had to ask buddy:: Ratchet sent, watching with disbelief as Grimlock headed for the other room and Teletran One, still in his Tyrannosaurs Rex alt mode. Bumblebee and Spike raced behind, trying to interfere. Ratchet heaved up onto his feet pads, feeling his advanced age as he ran after them, his self-repair slow to come online. 'Slagging younglings. If anything happens to them I will never forgive myself.' One look confirmed his fears, Teletran damaged and Bumblebee on his side, stuck in his alt mode. Spike popped up out of the open side window, yelling for help and the medic relaxed marginally.

::Contain the Dinobots! Keep your distance!:: Prime's general command ripped across his relay, the tone angry sounding.

::I'm repairing Teletran One. Call me for major damage:: Ratchet replied, letting the others fight it out. The less he was involved, the better. He and Wheeljack had discussed two ways to stop the Dinobots should they lose control. Teletran One was the quickest and its attempts to counter command the Dinobots had failed. Grimlock's simple brain had registered the stop protocol as an attack and repaid the system with blaster fire. The second needed them outside, the concept of a tar pit to entrap them with advanced Cybertronian energy strips to freeze them in place. The strips remained in place around the Ark entrance, hidden in the ground and utterly useless as the battle raged inside the Ark.

"They must be destroyed!"

Prime's order nearly sent Wheeljack into a spark attack. His mechlings, the Dinobots were going to be scrapped. Locking down the pain, he stumbled to his feet pads while processing rapidly. He raised a hand, blocking Prime from firing again, knowing it would be inconsequential and only serve to further anger the large mech. "Wait! Maybe my magnetic inducer can stop them." The blast calibrated to their exact processing frequency triggered the Dinobots transformation cogs and a temporary reset in their processors.

"I beg you Optimus. Please, don't make me pull the plug on them."

"I'm sorry Wheeljack, The Dinobots must never be activated again. They are too dangerous," Prime countered. His decision as Prime to protect them all offset his friendship with the mech, however often he was called Optimus.

"I challenge your command on open decree," Wheeljack stated, the words creating gasps of shock from the rest. A formal plea to counter a Prime's command had not been requested in vorns and now he risked his status among them for his creations.

"Any challenge requires at least three separate clan heads. I am not sure we have enough mechs to qualify," Prime countered, understanding the reasoning behind the inventor's request without wanting to punish him. They needed him and his inventions and he realized there was a way out of forcing him into exile. "If you fail to present a convincing argument, they Dinobots are to be deactivated as I previously stated, and you retain your status as a civilian inventor and neutral among us. They will be entombed among the bones of those they represent. If the tribunal agrees with you, your work will continue with command oversight and the Dinobots answer for any damages or problems including capital punishment for their own future actions. Is this acceptable?"

"Yes."

"I will represent my clan and high status," Mirage spoke first. The aristocratic blue armored mech materialized into existence before them, having used his invisibility to shield the human Sparkplug and shift him clear.

"I will represent my clan from Praxus." Bluestreak's quiet claim surprised every bot. One of only two survivors of the doomed city, he rarely spoke of it relieving the final attack often in recharge terrors. Prowl laid a comforting hand on his shoulder plates, knowing the pain and feeling proud of the warrior mech for stepping up and volunteering.

"Count me in for Kaon," Jazz chimed, trying to unkink a bent knee plate. Diving to the side he had twisted it in landing, self-repair realigning the cogs but thrumming pain sensors in his lower leg plates.

"Quorum achieved," Prowl announced. As tactician, he predicted the outcome with a ninety percent probability before they even swore the oath before Primus to fairly and equally consider the challenge. Passively watching, he dutifully recorded each step of the proceedings, logging the final vote as two to one against Wheeljack following the final arguments. The outstanding vote not a 'yes' but an 'undecided' via Jazz.

"How does the tribunal find?" Prime asked, returning to the room with Wheelajck. Waiting in the Command Center before the ruined Teletran One as Ratchet continued repairs emphasized the seriousness of the decision.

"Agreement with a Prime's edict, challenge is denied. Ruling stands," Prowl announced.

Wheeljack never spoke or reacted as he watched Prime and the tribunal members push and pull his creations into the cavern. When their weapons raised, he vented hard watching blaster fire dropping the rocks down, sealing the Dinobots inside. The message clear in its symbolism. Destruction to stop their rampage. Not a wall to be unsealed or opened later but buried, forgotten in time as the bones had been until their accidental discovery.

To be continued…