Raf and I were chatting during our study session. I managed to get a bit of a grasp on how he and the others had integrated with the Autobots. Not to mention that the Autobot Ratchet was training him in Cybertronian culture.
I actually found the whole thing pretty interesting. If I solved the Dark Energon problem soaking Cybertron, maybe I could take Raf on a personal visit there. It wouldn't be hard to whip up a suit for him to survive the toxic-to-humans atmosphere.
"I'm gonna read my comics, don't bug me," Airachnid grumbled, stretching out lazily on the couch before diving into the Venom issue.
I just gave a lazy okay sign, not caring what she got up to as long as she didn't turn the place upside down.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed through the base. I turned slowly and there he was: Ratchet, the Autobot medic, optics locked immediately on Windblade. He was surprised by her presence.
"Windblade, I didn't register your arrival," Ratchet said, softening his voice once he recognized her.
"I got here a few minutes ago. Where are the other Autobots?" she shot back, arms crossed.
I caught the subtle smile curling her lips; it was obvious she was proud of having dragged me there, like I was the trophy from a successful hunt.
"The others are busy. Optimus and Bulkhead are tracking Decepticon activity in Europe. Bumblebee and Arcee are waiting for Jack and Miko at school," the medic explained in a monotone. "And you actually managed to find the Allspark?"
Windblade flashed a wide grin and stretched her hand toward me with fake casualness, like we'd planned the whole thing for maximum impact.
I nodded silently, feeling the amusement bubbling inside, while Ratchet's stoic expression slowly crumbled and his sensors blinked in surprise. Out of respect, I kept my laugh to myself.
"By the Allspark," Ratchet murmured, almost instinctively, voice cracking mid-shock.
"That's me," I replied lightly, catching the playful glint in Windblade's eyes.
The Autobot stepped toward me with cautious steps and I could already sense the discomfort of an over-the-top bow coming; not the kind of attention I wanted, even if I understood why.
"You must be the group's medic," I said, to break the ice. "Pleasure to meet you."
"The honor is mine," Ratchet replied, with a bewilderment that spilled past the façade he was holding. "I'm glad you're safe."
"Thanks," I answered; he really had his guard down around me.
"Windblade, you really did it," he turned to her, who was radiating satisfaction. "I need to alert Optimus and the others."
Ratchet approached the control panel, fingers rushing over the commands, ready to broadcast the news via comms. Watching the screen closely, I couldn't help but notice the degraded state of the components. It was a patchwork quilt of human tech, jury-rigged and unstable, meshed with Cybertronian tech.
"Hey, Ratchet, can I help with the base systems?" I asked, stepping up to the railing.
He blinked his optics, pure confusion on display, but Windblade got it right away. With a conspiratorial grin, she crouched and stretched out her palm like a platform. I hopped onto it without hesitation and she carried me up to the giant panel. The screen towered huge in front of me, the size of a movie theater screen if we're being fair.
"You gonna use your powers to upgrade the system?" Ratchet asked, curiosity thick in his voice.
"Just adding some flair to this rig. Let me guess, you patched the rest with human tech?" I suggested, eyeing it up close.
"If it weren't for Raf's knack for fixing certain issues, I'd have gone nuts," Ratchet admitted, crossing his massive arms and sighing, clearly pissed at humanity's tech lag.
"If I hadn't gotten used to human tech pace, I'd be stressed out for real," I muttered, and Ratchet nodded back. I knew exactly how he felt.
I channeled energy into my index finger and touched the panel's metal. With an almost inaudible snap, the gear reformed: human motherboards melted and reforged into Cybertronian alloys, screens gained a blue-green glow with higher resolution. In seconds, the hack job turned into an original nav console, like it had just rolled off the assembly line.
"Please take it for a test drive. Let me know if the parameters match what you remember." I didn't recall the exact specs myself, so I used the Decepticon ship panel from my not-so-fun adventure on that giant ship as reference.
Ratchet didn't waste a second. He slid his fingers over the controls, testing the limits of the system upgrade, and his eyes widened in astonishment.
"This is incredible! You included automatic safety locks for the land bridge! And the precision... it could synchronize coordinates on other planets in seconds!" His voice rose.
"Don't overhype the credits. What you built here was already genius. Global transport network out of human scrap. I just… cut the anchors. Now you can jump anywhere in this star system," I replied, straight-up. The old mech deserved his share.
"I've got so many questions I don't even know where to start," he muttered, staring at me like I was a rock star… well, not gonna lie, it's kinda cool.
'I'm not a fan of interrogations, but I'll tolerate it this time. When everyone's here, I'll answer whatever questions I can. However, there's an urgent matter that needs to be addressed in front of the whole group.' I made a discreet gesture and Windblade immediately raised his palm so that I could jump back to the mezzanine. I left Ratchet to play with his new toy.
"Already showing off," she teased.
"Not showing off, upgrading. And I said I'm sticking with you guys until we settle what we talked about," I answered low, just for her. That was for the group discussion.
Out the corner of my eye, I saw Ratchet flip on the comm.
"Optimus, maximum priority. Need you back at base immediately."
I grinned. Soon the Fourteenth Prime would be stepping into this base.
Another detail cracked me up under my breath: how Airachnid was parked. The spider was so sunk into those pages she'd fused with the couch, like she was part of it, perfectly camouflaged and invisible. So still you could barely notice her. Now *that's* focus worth praising. Shame she's not like that all the time.
I turned to Raf. The kid was watching the scene, eyes bugged, mouth half-open like the air had bailed on him.
"This is… I don't even know how to put it," he stammered, pushing the lenses back with his finger.
"Relax. You'll get used to it," I winked.
Suddenly, two engines shattered the base's silence: one a deep, muscled growl of a muscle car; the other a sharp, slicing whine of a sport bike. I leaned my forearms on the cold railing to see who was pulling in.
The bike screeched in first, locking up with a high-pitched squeal that echoed softly. The rider yanked off the helmet and I recognized him instantly, which made me grin, he was doing damn good for a human.
Right after, a yellow Camaro slid to a stop beside the bike, engine still purring lazily before cutting out. The passenger door popped open and out stepped a goth girl, black hair with pink streaks, heavy boots thudding on the floor. Didn't know her, but the way she chewed gum and scowled told me she could be more annoying than Airachnid on a bad day.
The bike rose with a grind of gears, folding and stretching until it revealed a sleek blue Cybertronian, optics the same color. The car did the same, transforming into a yellow Autobot.
"Thanks for the ride, Bee," the girl said, fist-bumping the bot's heel.
"Ratchet, any updates on Decepticon activity…?" Arcee started, but froze mid-step when she spotted Windblade. "Weren't you supposed to be hunting the Allspark across the planet?"
Windblade flashed a wide grin, flicked her gaze to Ratchet, who instantly locked optics on me. I took a deep breath. My cue.
"Wow, is this how Autobots greet a friend? If this is the welcome, I'm worried how you handle Decepticons," I shouted, loud enough for all four newcomers to snap their heads my way.
Arcee tilted her blue optics up at me. No denying it: she was gorgeous. But if I let a compliment slip, Airachnid would rip my balls off. So I bit my tongue.
I shifted my gaze to the yellow one. Took a second, but I clocked him immediately. Our run-in on Cybertron was quick, but enough to remember.
"You're Bumblebee, right? Weren't you part of the squad protecting me?" I raised a finger, pointing, just to be sure.
Bumblebee responded with a rapid series of beeps. I blinked in surprise; I wasn't expecting that. It was probably voice box damage, most likely a war wound.
"Damn, what happened to your throat? Lost your voice box?" I asked. He nodded slowly, almost embarrassed.
Ratchet pulled a lever, and at the same time a portal suddenly opened, an emerald-green light swirling like a vortex. Then, an ancient and familiar energy struck me, silencing me instinctively.
Through the portal, two figures emerged. One was a robust robot, which needed to lose several tons and was taking heavy steps. The other… I could recognize him just by his silhouette, Optimus Prime.
I looked at him and, for a moment, I saw Prima. The resemblance was striking; after all, he is the heir to the Matrix of Leadership, chosen by me and Primus.
Our eyes met, and it was as if there was a click. Like an old plug fitting into a socket, the lost connection was slowly reignited. I could feel the Matrix pulsing within him, resonating with my own power.
I was about to crack a sarcastic joke, but I didn't. I remembered the Golden Age: I remembered the thirteen idiots laughing when some nonsense broke the seriousness they were trying to maintain during a meeting. A nostalgic smile escaped me. Damn. I got emotional.
"Been a while, Optimus," I said, ignoring the white aura dancing around me, my inner energy reacting to the Matrix. "We've got a lot to talk about."