Transformers Familial Bonds Ch 3
And this is the final chapter for now. Hope you liked the first few chapters of this story!
Transformers has been a formative part of my life and at times a guilty pleasure. And through this story I'm hoping to do a thing I've always wanted to see done, but have never gotten to, you know, enjoy, in anything Transformers related.
Anyways, I've pulled bits and pieces from a lot of Transformers stuff I've enjoyed throughout the years, I'm hoping to emulsify all of that into the perfect cocktail as these things go.
Drop me a comment if you liked! And also if you didn't. Anyways, that's it from me for now, for those of y'all in the US of A (which statistically is most of you), I hope you had a very fun and safe 4th of July, for all of ya not in the USA, hope you had a good and restorative weekend.
Drop me a comment and lemme know what you liked!
Or don't. I'm not your mom.
=][=
‘Okay,’ Robert thought to himself, ‘a giant robot just apologized to me for whatever made me lose my breakfast.’
He nearly burst out into laughter, though he didn’t entirely understand why he found it so funny.
Robert covered his face with his hands and screamed into them. Then, feeling better, he lowered his hands, pointed at the giant face in front of him and said. “Okay! Here is how things are going to go! I’m going to ask questions, you are going to answer them, got it!?”
The giant robot’s eyes, Optimus’ eyes, flickered off and on, and Robert took that to be a blink. “Understood.”
Robert ran over the dozens of questions he had, but settled on the one that really was foundational. “Your name is Optimus Prime. That other robot that turned into a car was Jazz. What are you?”
“We are silicate-based mechanical life-forms from the planet Cybertron.” Optimus answered.
“So…Aliens.” Robert said.
“Yo lil’ man!” Jazz said, popping up next to Optimus, his motion making it obvious he had been crouching to remain under the edge of the platform. “We prefer the term ‘extraterrestrial’!”
“We do?” Optimus asked.
“Yes!” Jazz insisted.
“What specific word for alien you use doesn’t matter!” Robert snapped, then took a deep breath and continued. “So you and another group of giant robots have yourselves a war and you’ve chosen to have it out on Earth.”
“And how’d you know that!?” Asked a third giant robot stepping up over the edge of the platform Robert was on, this one looked distinctly feminine, its, or he guessed, her body was white and light blue, coming up short of Optimus’ shoulder, her face had softer features than Jazz’s and she had the voice of the creepy nurse. “That’s supposed to be a secret!”
Robert raised an eyebrow. “The two robots that tried to kill me.”
“Decepticons.” Optimus stated firmly.
“The two Decepticons that totaled my truck and tried to kill me for witnessing their fight with Jazz. Those were a pretty strong indicator that there is a conflict between two factions taking place.” Robert said. “I also take that to mean that your war is behind that rise in missing person’s reports across the country?”
Optimus sighed, his massive metal shoulders drooping, when he spoke, there was more than a hint of regret in his voice. “Across the planet. We have done our best to minimize casualties among the native population during our operations, a restraint that the Decepticons seldom show, as you unfortunately bore witness to.”
Robert mulled that over in his head before nodding. “Okay, with you so far. Now, the real important question.” He waved a hand vaguely. “There is like, literally all of space for you lot to have your war in. Why in the seven hells are you duking it out on Earth?”
“That, is a longer and stranger tale than we have time for.” Optimus said, but before Robert could press, he continued. “Still, this is your world, and you have a right to know. The short of it is thus: All Cybertronians, Autobot, Decepticon, or unaffiliated, require Energon to live. It is a resource that can no longer be found in our homeworld. There are many worlds across the galaxy that have it in small quantities, worlds that the Autobots and Decepticons have battled over for eons. Your world, Earth, has the largest deposits of Energon that we have ever seen outside of Cybertron.”
“Which is why you’re here.” Robert said, tapping his chin, mind racing. “The quantity of this, erm, Energon, if properly exploited, could tip things one way or the other in your war.”
“Correct.” Optimus said while Jazz and the girl robot muttered behind him. “Though the fact that your world is inhabited by sapient life complicates matters immensely, nonetheless, we Autobots refuse to bring devastation to your world in order to satiate our own needs. A restraint that is also, sadly, missing on those who follow the Decepticon cause.”
Robert grunted. “Alright, but then why all the cloak and dagger? You’re literally what, fuckin’ thirty feet tall? And you’re made of metal. I shot one of you lot in the eye and the teeth with a pretty powerful gun and all I did was annoy you. What’s stopping the Decepticons from just, fighting openly?”
“Because, Robert Mick, while your people’s technology is primitive when compared to our own, there are weapon systems you possess that would be a threat even to us. And while there are tens of thousands of Cybertronians, there are billions of you. Not to mention that we have studied your people’s history thoroughly. I do not doubt that, were the Decepticons to attempt to take over your world without lengthy preparation that we have done our best to sabotage, your people would blanket your planet in nuclear fire, if naught else than as a final show of defiance. And while Cybertronian physiology is significantly sturdier than human biology, to a nuclear blast, this difference is ephemeral.”
Robert grunted again. “Yeah, that tracks. Okay, two final questions.”
“Yes?”
“Where the hell are my gun and my clothes!?”
=][=
No longer naked, figuratively and nearly literally, Robert checked his revolver, and saw that it had a number of dings and scratches he’d need to buff out at some point. However, the cylinder still turned, the firing pin still worked, and the hammer’s motion was still buttery smooth.
Good enough.
Would his current hosts/jailers let him have his trusty revolver if it posed anything near a serious threat to them?
No.
But it made him feel better anyways.
Their base was huge. Which made sense, they were giant fuckin’ robots. Optimus had let Robert get on his hand and gave him a tour of the ship, showing him what passed for their galley, quarters, and cargo hold, explaining that he didn’t feel overly comfortable with showing the power plant and other locations that might have dangers that they had not accounted for, what with their safety standards being for giant robots with metal skin, not meat bags with a thin wall of dead cells protecting their tender insides from plasma.
Or radiation.
Or radioactive plasma.
Which, all things considered…fair!
As it turned out, their base was actually a spaceship, they’d buried it under a mountain and had dug a tunnel out of it to go on their deployments, at least whenever it was not more efficient to use their teleporter.
The one that nearly killed him.
At least it wasn’t like a Star Trek teleporter that literally killed him and shat out a copy of him with all his memories at the destination location. All the autobots had been horrified when he’d asked.
Eventually the tour ended at the bridge, where he saw a white and red robot, its shoulders emblazoned with a red cross. Its blue eyes shone with a distinct lack of the friendliness that was easily found in Optimus’ or Jazz’s eyes, his helmet-like head had a plate that flared outwards and upwards like a crown.
“Longshot.” Robert said before Optimus could introduce the robot. “But I’m going to guess this guy is your medic.”
“Indeed.” Optimus said, setting Robert down next to a massive keyboard that was set into a metal console so big that to him it was a whole-ass platform. “How did you know?”
“Eh. The red cross.” He said, pointing to the robot’s shoulders. “Kinda universal thing here for first-aid.”
“My alternate form is indeed one of your primitive vehicles for evacuation and basic treatment of the injured.” The robot said, a haughtiness to his tone that made Robert immediately dislike him.
“Robert Mick, this is Ratchet, our Chief Medical Officer.” Optimus said. “Ratchet, this is Robert Mick, our…guest.”
“I know.” Ratchet said, his eyes narrowing as he studied Robert’s comparatively tiny form. “I provided some basic first aid to this human after Jazz’s foolishness nearly killed him.”
“I see. You have my thanks.” Optimus said.
Ratchet grunted. “I hope that such intervention is not needed again. I’m a doctor, not a Meat Mechanic!”
While that interaction went on, Robert studied the biggest of the huge screens set into the ‘wall’ of the console. Alien characters changed continuously, but he could discern a map of the world, each screen showing different locations across Earth.
“Neat.” He said, accidentally stepping on one of the keys of the keyboard, which flashed. “Whoops, my bad.”
“Hey! Don’t touch that!” Ratchet snapped. “Teletraan 1 is a delicate instrument! Do not disturb it!”
“I said I was sorry!” Robert snapped, stepping back.
“It was a minor error, Ratchet.” Optimus said, putting his hand on Ratchet’s shoulder. “And our new friend is still oiling his bearings.”
“Just, make certain you touch nothing else!” Ratchet demanded and walked away to a different console, pressing buttons.
Robert curled his lip but swallowed his urge to spit. He didn’t want to dirty Optimus’ shiny computer.
After a short awkward silence, Optimus shook his head. “This is Teletraan 1, our ship’s computer. It is semi-sentient, and if it were not for its efforts, our activities in your world would be far less effective and efficient.”
Robert blinked and turned to the giant red, grey, and blue robot. “So it’s an AI?”
“That term is offensive!” Ratchet scoffed. “There is nothing Artificial about Teletraan 1’s intellect! It comes from the same principles as a natural-born Cybertronian intellect!”
Robert blinked, then without acknowledging that, he turned to Optimus and waited.
Optimus sighed. “Ratchet, Jazz was still occasionally heaving, and I think I heard grinding coming from his pectus cavea. Could you please run another scan on him? I fear that we might have to run a deep wash through him, otherwise he may rust and it may affect his transformation cog.”
“I told him he needed to be careful.” Ratchet groused, stepping away from the console and stomping away. “Now I won’t hear the end of this for weeks!”
Optimus waited for the grouchy robot to leave before speaking. “Please, find it within you to forgive him. Ratchet…He has been under immense pressure, ever more of my bots come back wounded after each deployment, and we can only rely on Ratchet to patch us all back together. I feel it is taking a greater toll on him than he lets on.”
Robert grunted. “Guy reminds me of my grandpa.”
“Grandpa?” Optimus asked.
“Yeah, you know, my dad’s dad?”
“Ah. Your version of a grandgenitor.” Optimus said and seemingly weighed his words carefully before speaking. “If you do not mind my asking, what of Ratchet reminds you of your grandgenitor?”
Robert huffed. “An old, tired soldier who’s lost too much to his war, and doesn’t realize he makes that everyone else’s problem.” He turned back to the computer. “So, this thing can think?”
Optimus remained quiet for a time before answering. “Yes and no. Teletraan 1 is semi-sentient. Its cortex is capable of feeling several sensations, pleasure for certain, not boredom exactly, but a certain restlessness if left without a task. More than an animal, less than an autobot.”
Robert hummed. “And how strong a computer is it?”
“It runs the entirety of our ship. And were it not for its calculations, it would take minutes to create a ground bridge, and a space bridge would be forever beyond us.”
Robert whistled. “I am not nearly smart enough to understand how impressive that is, but that is probably extremely impressive.”
Oprimus chuckled. “Indeed. Now, I am certain you are wondering about what will happen to you now that you know of us and our conflict. It will be awkward, you have gained the ire of Knock Out, and he has a well-earned reputation for holding grudges. He will hav—”
The computer flashed red and sounded a siren.
“Of course.” Optimus sighed and pressed a button.
The main screen changed to show a red helmeted (headed?) robot. [Optimus! The Decepticons I’ve been surveying are moving! It’s definitely an Energon deposit, they’re deploying diggers and extractors!]
“Good work Cliffjumper.” Optimus said as the robots Robert had met, and two more he hadn’t, came thundering into the huge room, making it feel crowded. “Lay low for now, reinforcements are coming. Be ready to use our deployment as a distraction and destroy their machinery.”
[Yes, sir!] Cliffjumper said and cut communications.
Optimus turned around. “Jazz, Moonracer, Warpath, Sideswipe, we will groundbridge to Cliffjumper’s location. When we get there immediately employ suppressive fire. If you see an opening to damage Decepticon equipment without exposing yourselves, take it, but our main objective is to create an opening for Cliffjumper. Ratchet, stay here, ready the medbay and be ready to evacuate us with a ground bridge. Autobots, transform and roll out!”
Over a few seconds they transformed into a motorcycle, a porsche, a cyberpunk tank, a futuristic sports car, and a semi truck.
Optimus-truck looked pretty fuckin’ rad, shame he didn’t blow his truck horn as he accelerated.
They drove off into a wall, moments before they impacted a tunnel made of what looked like plasma appeared and they drove down it and disappeared.
He was going to have to tell Optimus that motorcycles didn’t drive themselves.
The big plasma tunnel winked out, and the side of the ship was just a wall again.
Robert stood there on the computer, waiting for Ratchet to stop looking at where the autobots left.
Robert’s stomach chose that moment to remind him that he’d thrown up his breakfast earlier. Ratchet jumped at the sound of Robert’s stomach rumbling, the floor shook as he landed.
“By Primus, what was that!?” Ratchet gasped.
“Uhh…I did throw up my breakfast.” Robert said, scratching his side awkwardly. “Also I’m pretty thirsty, if you happen to have some water I could have, that’d be pretty great.”
Ratchet scoffed. “I have energon.”
“Is that edible?”
“Not by your physiology. The slight incidental infusion you had while being brought through the ground bridge nearly killed you.”
“Nuts.”
“I am about to be very busy.” Ratchet said, fiddling with the computer Robert was on. “I have given you small access to Teletraan 1’s systems. I do not believe it will be able to synthesize an edible substance for you, not without first scanning samples which I will be unable to source until the current operation is finished, but it should be able to provide you with water.”
It was nice to know he would not die of thirst while at the tender mercy of the marginally nicer giant robots.
“As I stated, I am about to be very busy.” Ratchet said, pointing one of his giant metal fingers at Robert. “I need to work elsewhere. Stay here, and don’t, touch, anything.”
With that, the robot stomped away.
Robert looked after the crochety medic robot and silently wondered to himself how exactly he was supposed to go anywhere, what with the console he was standing on was twenty-odd feet off the ground.
A survivable fall, especially if he managed to roll well…ish.
But while he (may) survive the fall, chances were his ankles and legs wouldn’t.
Robert made his way to the keyboard, each of the keys larger than his foot, and rather than try to type something with those weird alien letters, he tried talking to it. Yes, he felt kind of stupid, but it was a so-advanced-it-may-as-well-be-space-magic computer, so who knows.
“Excuse me? Teletraan 1?” He asked.
The console beeped.
“Can you uhh…understand me?”
The console beeped again.
“Okay, assuming you can understand me, how about this, one beep for yes, two beeps for no. That work for you?”
The console beeped.
Robert took a deep breath. “Okay, just as a test. Were you manufactured on Earth?”
The console beeped. Twice.
“Oh thank fuck.” Robert said, sagging in relief. “Umm, I’m dehydrated, could you please get me some potable water?”
The console beeped. A moment later a light above one of the monitors flashed, and a metal pint mug appeared on the floor in front of him, followed by a tiny transporter appearing over it, filling the mug with water.
Robert picked it up, sniffed it. It smelled like water. “So uhh, where did you get this water from?”
The image on the nearest screen to him changed.
He looked at the readouts and said. “I can’t read, uhh, your language.”
The readouts changed to English.
Man, this thing was awesome.
Apparently, it had teleported the water from a water bottling plant.
“Oh well, bottoms up.” He said and downed the pint of water. It tasted like water. “Could I have another?”
Another lightshow later, and he drank a second pint of water, as he had not realized how parched he’d been.
“Thanks big guy!” He said, putting the metal mug in one of his cargo pants pockets.
The computer beeped.
Two minutes later, Robert was bored, so he turned to the computer and asked. “So hey, you need help with anything? And if so, once I help you, could you help me with a personal project?”
The computer beeped.
Robert grinned.
=][=
“Ratchet, our mission was a success, we have suffered some damage, but we not only thwarted the Decepticons, we captured the Energon they managed to extract.” Optimus said over the comms.
“Good.” Ratchet answered. “Need me to prep the ground bridge?”
“Yes, the longer we remain in the open, the higher the chance of a Decepticon ambush where they might recapture the Energon.”
“On it.” Ratchet said, making his way back to the bridge. Where he could not help but feel he was forgetting something important as he prepped the ground bridge.
As he pulled the lever that activated it, he realized the human was nowhere to be found.
“By the Allspark, I told him to stay put!” Ratchet moaned.
Optimus and the away party came through, Optimus pulling a grav-sled piled high with unrefined Energon crystals.
They would not need to ration quite so tightly for a while.
Optimus disengaged from the grav sled and transformed into his bipedal form. “Ratchet, was our guest any trouble?”
Ratchet looked away in shame while the others dragged the grav sled away. “I do not know where he is.”
Optimus stared, and Ratchet’s cooling system sped up in shame.
“I only left him alone so I could work!” Ratchet defended himself. “How was I supposed to know he’d disappear!?”
“Ratchet…our deployment lasted three hours.” Optimus said slowly.
“I was busy!”
“Why did you leave our guest alone for three hours?” Optimus insisted.
“Like I said, I was busy!” Ratchet insisted. “Now help me find him before he causes trouble.”
A vent at the top of Teletraan 1 opened and the human crawled out of it, it was now clad in a crude metal exoskeleton made of…spare Cybertronian steel?
“Oh, hey Optimus!” The human said, showing his denta in a wide smile. “The fight went well I take it?”
“Yes.” Optimus said.
“What were you doing in there!?” Ratchet demanded as he began a diagnostic routine in Teletraan 1. “Teletraan 1 is a delicate instrument! You could have…increased efficiency by eight percent?”
The human wiped his hands on his legs and stepping off the edge of the top of the console, small thrusters on his exoskeleton’s hands, feet, and back stuttering on and awkwardly slowing his descent until he landed awkwardly. “Whoooaah…made it! I crawled in there, cable managed and wiped a whole lot of dust.”
“You could have broken something important!” Ratchet snapped.
“Nah.” The human said. “I triple checked everything with Tel. It signed off on literally everything.”
Optimus stood back, surprised. “You learned to speak its language? That’s something most of us have yet to manage.”
The human snorted and pulled out its crude communications unit. “Nah, we started with one beep for yes, two for no, until I asked Tel to connect to my phone via Bluetooth. We’ve been chatting through text since.”
Ratchet let out an aggravated vent. “Still, what possessed Teletran 1 to ask you to…to crawl inside it!?”
“Well that’s simple.” The human said, then pointed at Ratchet. “Y’all’s cable management is shit!”
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