A story not often told
Chapter 7: A few years afterward
"Are you sure this will work, Ceptor?" Ratchet asked, sounding very skeptical.
"Positive. The past cycles of improvement on this solitary assignment should pay off right about now," nodded Perceptor.
"You've been reading the dictionary again…" chuckled Wheeljack.
"Expansion of my terminology will assist in my education," Perceptor accepted.
"We'll all learn new words each day from you," added Ratchet, fiddling with the equipment.
"So, Mr. Medic, we're all ready for this presentation?" Wheeljack asked, snapping in a wire.
"Don't call me Mr. Medic! I'm not a medic yet. I'm working on it with you two 'round," huffed Ratchet.
"Are you two still quarrelling over irrelative concepts? Why do I bother with you two?" groaned Perceptor.
"Irrelative, maybe, but they keep the conversations up," shrugged Wheeljack.
"We ready or not?" snapped Perceptor to them both.
"Medical equipment ready," Ratchet answered.
"Project ready…but you may want to check it over again," Wheeljack groaned.
"You need to have more faith in yourself, Jack," sighed Perceptor, getting up from his chair to examine the project once more.
The project was first constructed back when they first met. The cloaking devise that Wheeljack had tried to work all those cycles ago. The object was similar to that of a piece of armor. It could fit on your shoulder or possible on the leg. It was designed to rearrange the molecules so it appeared you had vanished. At least in Perceptor's plan.
"Everything looks fine to me," Perceptor smiled.
"Ready for anything! Let's get this party started!" cheered Ratchet.
"Looks like grumpy pants has more emotions than originally thought," chuckled Perceptor.
"And Mr. Big Words has a smaller vocab," hissed Ratchet.
"The presentation begins soon. We need to move…eventually," sighed Wheeljack.
"Sometimes you're a real slacker," groaned Perceptor.
"Your point?" chuckled Wheeljack.
Perceptor enjoyed his friends. Ratchet had that serious sense, one that could take control of even the strongest willed. Wheeljack was confused and fun loving. He liked to fiddle with things. If not…well, it wasn't happy memories for Perceptor, Ratchet or the teacher that was sent to the med bay for a few solar cycles.
"We'll be waiting for you, Ceptor," nodded Ratchet and Wheeljack as they marched off.
Perceptor watched them march off with the project underneath a veil. Perceptor was happy with the project. They had worked very hard on it. A forever many solar cycles. Perceptor didn't tell them everything though, he regretted sadly. He was afraid to tell them about his past. He didn't tell them about the freezer or being beaten. He didn't tell them about his old teacher's murder either.
"Sure I trust them…but something still haunts me," Perceptor whispered to himself. "My teacher…Ms. Redmoon…had said someone didn't want me to know something. Dark Reaper…"
Perceptor lifted some of the data pads. Everything seemed perfect. He knew nothing was perfect. Nothing was in stone. Perceptor was certain everything had happened for a reason but everything now-a-days, after the loss of his teacher, he wasn't sure of much. He shook his head. He hated such negative thoughts. He gathered his things and moved toward the door to catch up with his friends.