#tfa crew: *various answers*

[elendiliel]

Hello and Goodbye

Another long one, I'm afraid. (Again, I can repost in chunks if that's better, and it's on AO3 here.)

As usual, inspiration credits to @justawannabearchaeologist's "TFP Wheeljack in TFA" series; I also adopted and transplanted a concept from @itsstrangelypermanent's The Clone Wars fic medical logs. Both are highly recommended.

---

How did I get here? Knock Out wondered to himself. He knew the literal answer to that, of course – he and the rest of Team Prime, Ratchet included, had driven out from the Hall of Records in the centre of Iacon (their HQ now that the former Nemesis, renamed the Justice, had limped back from the Well of All Sparks to the derelict shipyards outside the ruined capital for proper repairs, along with the Iron Will) to the city’s boundary in response to long-range scans picking up a small but unfriendly-looking army of some kind approaching. The first returning refugees from their once-devastated world were just days away from making landfall; this was probably some last-ditch attempt to take control of Cybertron before they arrived by one of the two fugitive Decepticons still on-planet, Starscream or Shockwave. The Autobots couldn’t allow that, but nor would they use Vehicons as blaster fodder. The work crews and the few remaining prisoners were all safely out of Iacon or sheltered by the Justice, while Team Prime dealt with the invasion force.

That was all reasonable, to an Autobot at least, and in accordance with their Code. What Knock Out had been asking himself for weeks was just how he had found himself fighting for both sides in Cybertron’s aeons-long civil war, a technically loyal Decepticon valued for his skills for almost all of it – but accepted, even befriended, by the Autobots at the end. He had, probably less casually than he intended, asked his young colleague Glitch that a little while previously, but she hadn’t been helpful. “Life sends us hairpin bends from time to time,” she’d said. “All we can do is take them – or crash.” She would know; a faulty space-bridge had sent her from her own universe to his some months before. But for a historian’s sparkling, she was remarkably uninterested in the recent past. What a person had been or done seldom mattered to her, unless she could use those data to predict their future. The present was far more important.

In that present, the enemy was within optical range at last – barely more than a smudge on the horizon still, but closing rapidly. And within the range of Wheeljack’s new camera-drone, already zooming towards the invaders to get a better look at them. Knock Out had been surprised to discover that the Wrecker could build things that didn’t blow up. He was not surprised to find that Glitch had hacked the drone’s feed and was streaming it on her built-in datapad. The newspark was a data addict with a poor grasp of the idea of boundaries. At least it let him see the opposition (just about) even from his place near one end of the thin multicoloured line, beside his diminutive fellow medic.

“Starscream or Shockwave?” he asked her as the drone cycled through its various settings. The soldiers looked like Vehicons, all grounders, but they moved too stiffly, too mechanically. And there was no sign of a spark in any of them. Low-level clones, or just automata? “They’re both into cloning.”

She chewed the upper edge of her synth for a few seconds. “If I had any money, I think it’d be on Screamer. An army of cheap knockoffs is more his style. And I’ll say one thing for this Shockwave – he has an amount of backstrut, unless retreat is logical. Which this whole plan isn’t. And if it were, he’d be with his troops, not lurking at a safe distance.”

“I wouldn’t take that bet,” he agreed. “Apart from all that, some of these mecha have been put together the wrong way. Say what you like about Shockwave – he’s a perfectionist.”

“Not the only one around here,” she said with her best attempt at a teasing grin. He didn’t have time to respond to that before Ultra Magnus asked Wheeljack for his analysis.

“Just sparkless robots. Not sure there’s much going on upstairs, even. I’m guessing they’ve only been programmed to march and shoot. I don’t like the look of those blasters, though.”

“Seconded on all counts,” Glitch called, not looking up from an X-ray of a robot’s CPU. The engineer and demolitions expert was right; it didn’t look any more complicated than a typical Earth computer. Less, if anything. Starscream – if it was him – clearly preferred quantity to quality. And maybe he didn’t have access to better technology. How had he even got hold of that much? Had he found one of Shockwave’s abandoned labs?

Hopefully, there would be time to find that out later. Knock Out’s immediate priority was survival. The drones were within weapons range; Bumblebee’s and Glitch’s shields held back the incoming fire as the other Autobots picked off the front ranks of robots, but they just kept coming. Close-quarters combat was inevitable. Luckily, that was the Aston Martin’s forte. And his temporary partner’s.

Tactically, it wouldn’t normally make much sense for two medics to be paired up; usually, they had combatant partners or relied on their whole unit and their own offensive capabilities. But Glitch had been trained to fight before she even applied to Protihex Medical Mechanical, and she had both a dedicated shield mod and built-in magnets that could also be used as a shield. And Knock Out trusted her, maybe not more than he did the rest of the team, but at a deeper level – the level of his circuits and spark, perhaps, not just his processor. She, of course, trusted everyone unless she were given reason not to. Besides, three medics were more than enough for a twelve-‘bot unit.

As the Autobots engaged the drones in hand-to-hand combat, Knock Out realised it was the first time he’d been in a full-scale battle since Breakdown had joined with the Allspark. He wondered for a sparkbeat what his late partner would have made of the tiny femme who had, in a logistical sense, taken his place. He’d probably have liked her; everyone did. And if he could see them from the Well, Knock Out hoped he was glad someone was doing his old job. It wasn’t the same, of course; like Knock Out himself, Glitch relied on speed and precision, her laser scalpel finding weak spots in the robots’ frames, her EMP generator overloading their processors, her magnets disabling blasters with a certain understated efficiency, quite unlike Breakdown’s brute strength. But the sense of safety even in the midst of chaos was painfully familiar. She would protect him to the best of her ability, and vice versa.

He had to protect her when she stopped dead, thankfully during a momentary pause in their part of the battle, and raised a hand to her comm circuits. The comm was on speaker by default, so Knock Out could hear an unfamiliar, young-sounding Cybertronian voice say, “Glitch, if you can hear me, we’re coming to get you.”

The field-tech’s face was a picture of joy, chased by alarm, as she replied. “Bee? Stars, it’s good to hear you – but your timing couldn’t be much worse. It’s still not safe…”

“That wasn’t a suggestion,” another stranger’s voice, this one maybe a little older, calm and pleasant, broke in. “If you’re in trouble, we’re going to help.”

Glitch’s back had straightened even further, and her tone was significantly more respectful as she responded, “Sir, I strongly advise…”

“You’re breaking up.” The second voice cut her off again. “Must be the space-bridge. We’ll see you soon.”

Glitch lowered her hand from her comm; the transmission must have ended. Her expression was a mix of exasperation and excitement even as she rejoined the fight. “Of all the… I didn’t think he’d stoop to that trick.”

“Who was it?”

“Backup,” she said cryptically, moments before a blue-green orb of light faded into life high above  their heads. All the Autobots, even the very youngest, were too well-trained to be distracted by it – even when three vessels emerged from what had to be a strange kind of space-bridge. Two small jets, one blue, one orange, flanking a red and yellow battleship, all bearing the Autobrand. Reinforcements.

As the jets broke off to strafe the enemy ranks with wind and flame (rather enthusiastically; the orange one came close to scorching Smokescreen), the battleship touched down behind the Autobots and a landing ramp unfolded, allowing the strangest group of alt-modes Knock Out had ever seen to drive, walk or fly out. A blue and orange monster truck was in the lead, closely followed by a red and blue fire-truck cab. There was a red and white ambulance, a green APC, a yellow hatchback with black accents, a sweet white sports car and a pink car that didn’t look like anything Knock Out had seen on Earth. Behind them were what appeared to be two robotic versions of ancient Earth reptiles (a similar, aerial ‘bot hovered above them) and, bringing up the rear and trying not to be noticed (which was fine by Knock Out), a giant spider. That could only be Glitch’s home team.

One by one, as their ship took off again (“Who’s flying?” “He flies himself. That’s Omega Supreme.”), the newcomers – apart from the reptile-‘bots – transformed into an equally motley assortment of root modes, ranging in size from a little taller than Glitch (the hatchback) to a bit bigger than Wheeljack (the APC), wielding an astonishing variety of weapons. At least the monster truck’s hammer, the ambulance’s magnets (that had to be the other Ratchet) and the APC’s wrecking ball (Bulkhead, definitely) were vaguely familiar. But why did the Optimus-coloured fire truck have an axe? Were those laser swords the pink femme had just drawn? And what were the hatchback’s and sports car’s weapons?

“Stars,” Glitch groaned as the blue and orange mech tried to give the order to transform and roll out, only to be reminded by the mini-Optimus that they had transformed. “I suppose he had to come along, but honestly…”

“What’s the matter?”

“Sentinel flipping Prime’s the matter. Sentinel Magnus, possibly, if Ultra’s resigned or joined with the Allspark while I’ve been here. The one with the spectacular chin.” The monster truck with the hammer. “Steer clear. Uh-oh, here comes trouble…” Someone was calling her comm again. A bossy, arrogant someone. “Field-tech Glitch, sitrep, stat.”

“No time. I’ll explain later, but for now, just wallop anything with the Deceptibrand. The enemy consists of sparkless drones that make Blackout look like Mainframe – maybe Perceptor – so don’t hold back.” As she spoke, she had been working on her datapad. “I’ve patched you guys into the other Autobots’ comms, so you can coordinate directly, not through me.” She shut off the connection before her superior could yell at her and turned her attention to the battle once more.

Knock Out had lost himself in the rhythm of combat when a nearly-unfamiliar voice shouted, “Get away from my partner, Decepti-creep!”

He looked down to see a small yellow mech pointing a pair of electrical weapons straight at his spark chamber, and raised his hands in something like surrender. “Easy! I’m on your side!”

“Believe it or not, that’s correct,” Glitch said, turning to see what was going on. Her whole face lit up as she set eyes on the newcomer. “And it’s good to see you, Bee.” She had struggled even with the common greeting; her mouth opened slightly and closed a few times, words failing her yet again.

“You don’t have to say anything,” “Bee” assured her, his eyes just as full of joy above his battle mask. “I know. And it’s good to see you, too.”

“By the Allspark,” Knock Out sighed. “Now I’ve got a couple of lovesick newbuilds on my hands. Aren’t you even going to introduce us?”

Glitch shook herself awake and tore her eyes from her other partner. “Sorry. Bee, Knock Out. Knock Out, Bumblebee. My partner and one of my oldest friends.” And her boyfriend, she didn’t have to say.

“Yes, yes, nice to meet you. Now are we going to fight, or are you two lovebots going to get us all killed?” The only answer Knock Out received was a pair of identical glares as the smaller mecha returned their attention to the enemy.

“Your aim’s improved,” mini-Bumblebee said as Glitch took down another robot with an EMP to the head.

“Thanks. So’s yours.” “Bee” was pretty good with those spark projectors. “But it’s not going to be quite enough.” Knock Out could just see her mischievous grin. Flirting, at a time like this, not as a weapon? “Fight up close; seize the moment and stay in it.”

“It’s either that or meet the business end of a bayonet.” Continuing a quotation? “I’ve missed this.”

“So have I.” Glitch’s smile was outright flirtatious. Seriously? “But not as much as I’ve missed you.”

Knock Out wasn’t sure whether to be alarmed or relieved when the press of frames parted Glitch and new-Bumblebee from him despite everyone’s best efforts. On the one hand, he was in more danger without a partner; on the other, those two were getting unbearably cute. As more drones than he was confident handling alone surrounded him, he was definitely leaning towards “alarmed”.

His alarm didn’t lessen when two of the robots were swept away by the force of an unseen ally’s attack. The drones were pinned to the ground by organic-looking webbing, which stirred up memories he really did not want in the middle of a battle. Conditioned instincts allowed him to dispatch most of his remaining assailants with his saw and electrostaff, but when he turned to see a spider-form femme stabbing a robot with her front legs, rational thought and movement briefly became things that happened to other people. It’s not her. It can’t be. Soundwave sent her away. How would she…

“A “thank you” wouldn’t go amiss,” the femme said in a voice that was definitely not Airachnid’s. “What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Oh, nothing.” Now that Knock Out had been pulled back to reality, he didn’t know how he could ever have mistaken the ‘bot for his partner’s killer. Her face, framed by a black and gold helmet, was completely different, as was her colour scheme, purple, black and gold with a patch of unpainted alloy on her chestplate. A fairly accomplished cut-and-paste repair, he thought. She only had two visible extra legs (the final pair must be stashed away somewhere), and her arachnid features were smoother, more organic-looking. He had to suppress a shudder when he realised they were organic. How is that possible? “I thought you were someone else for a moment, that’s all.”

“Oh, just that. I thought you were freaking out about my organic half. A lot of ‘bots are squeamish about it. I’ve learned not to mind.” Now that was a mildly depressing idea, however much Knock Out might dislike organic lifeforms in general. “Pit, I couldn’t stand it for quite some time. And there’ll be Unicron to pay when Sentinel finds out I stowed away – he’s even less keen on it.” She cut herself off in mid-life history, if Knock Out were any judge. “Seen Glitch, by the way? Bumblebee went to find her, but I haven’t heard from either of them since.”

“He did, but we were separated. I think they stayed together, though. In every sense.”

“They’ll be fine, then. And I think we’d better pair up for the time being – in the combat sense, of course.” She all but smirked at him. “We ex-‘Cons have to stick together.” At that moment, hacking his way through waves of drones, the spider-‘bot – Elita – webbing or stabbing any robot in range, Knock Out couldn’t agree more.

***

Even with heavily armed war-‘bots all around, Bumblebee found himself grinning like an idiot behind his battle mask. After months of waiting and hoping, just taking one solar-cycle at a time, he’d finally found Glitch, alive and, at least for the moment, well. She might have a few new scars, a collection of new friends and some awesome new skills, but she was still very much the same ‘bot, and they made just as good a team as ever.

It was ridiculous how much he’d missed her. Her disappearance had been like having a component removed – not one he needed to survive, but one that allowed him to be fully functional. Music had become a minefield; the most random songs could, and did, remind him of her. He’d even lost interest in video games for a while. Her favourite sci-fi shows had been a no-go area; he hadn’t wanted to be ahead of her when she returned, for one thing. (He’d never given up hope that she would return, though there had been some close calls. Being able to talk to her, if only for a few cycles and despite the fact that she had clearly been in danger, had rekindled that hope just in time.) But that time was almost certainly about to be over, and he couldn’t be happier about it. And judging by the look in her optics when she first saw him, though she probably couldn’t find the right words even inside her processor, he was sure she felt the same.

“Need a medic over here!” Bumblebee was pulled out of his thoughts by an unfamiliar voice over the comm. “Arcee’s down.”

As he covered her, Glitch checked what looked like a life-sign map on her datapad. “I’m nearest. Coming, partner?”

“You bet!” Following her lead, he transformed and drove between the drones that still surrounded them towards the casualty. He could outpace her easily with his turbo-boosters, but they weren’t ideal in such a crowded place. And he didn’t know exactly where they were going, whereas she did. Hold on – Arcee? But she’s over – oh, right, another Arcee. This is going to get confusing…

A cycle or two later, they arrived at their destination, a temporarily clear patch in the middle of the battlefield. A tall black and yellow mech stood guard over a smaller femme, her plating a little darker than the blue liquid spilling from a wound to her thigh. (Energon, apparently. Bumblebee wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the idea of ‘bots bleeding even from not-critical injuries; Glitch had admitted that she’d freaked out at first, and that that had nearly got her killed.)

“I’ll take it from here,” Glitch told the mech. She removed her shield from her arm and held it out to Bumblebee. “Remember how to use this?”

“Of course.” He remembered everything to do with her.

“Good.” All business, as ever. She knelt beside the blue femme – Arcee – and got to work, beginning a running commentary on what she was doing, while Bumblebee headed over to join the black and yellow mech, braced to cover his partner and her patient.

“Hey,” the mech greeted him. “You’re the other Bumblebee, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.” Other Bumblebee? That had to be his counterpart. Glitch had mentioned that there was another Bumblebee on the team that had adopted her.

“All good, I hope,” he shot back, deflecting an incoming laser. Had Glitch upgraded the shield? He wouldn’t put it past her.

His alternate tilted his head this way and that a little. “Mostly.” He hadn’t really expected anything else. Glitch could be brutally honest, and didn’t exactly have a lot of filters.

“And all true,” she put in. Bumblebee glanced back to check on her. Up until that moment, he’d thought “forgetting how to vent” was an expression or exaggeration. It definitely wasn’t. Frag, she was beautiful when she was working. Not just her face, and certainly not just her chassis. Even with her plating smeared with the weird blue Energon, she radiated calm, confidence, and above all compassion, in a way that made her seem the most alive person on the field. She was doing what she had been protoformed to do, and he knew she’d fought so hard to be able to do it. He was lucky to have her. (And she was lucky to have him, part of him thought.)

“I know it’s hard,” the other Bumblebee said, “but try to keep your eyes on the enemy and not on your sweetspark. You can look at her all you want when we survive this.”

“Right. Of course.” Bumblebee tore his optics from his partner and refocused his attention on the battle. That was what was important.

“Nice stingers, by the way,” his counterpart commented as Bumblebee shut down another robot. “Is that how you got your name?”

“…Kind of.” Not the original reason, exactly, but one he’d adopted after Glitch hacked a Science Guild database to look up the real meanings of her fellow cadets’ names. Bumblebees seemed like cool, friendly little guys. And they were valued despite their small size. He’d been a lot happier about his name after that, as Bulkhead had been happy to learn that a bulkhead was a key structural and defensive feature of a ship, not just an insult. (Wasp had been less happy to find out that he shared a name with a type of insect regarded as a necessary pest at best and a parasite at worst. Where was Waspinator now? Elita claimed he’d been fine when she left him, but that was a while back.)

As he and his alternate traded banter back and forth, and traded shots with the enemy, he caught himself wondering how the rest of the team were doing. They’ll be fine. They have to be.

***

Ratchet had long since decided that if he never saw another battlefield, it would be too soon. And yet, there he was, carving a path through a crowd of Decepti-drones with his magnets, doing his best to stay close to the young ‘bots in case they needed him. They weren’t making that easy. Bumblebee had run off in search of Glitch almost right away, and Prime could never resist a chance to get into trouble. At least there were other, more experienced Autobots around; he’d caught sight of Bulkhead swinging that confounded wrecking ball with his usual abandon beside a much larger green mech, presumably his counterpart, and an even taller blue and white ‘bot – Ultra Magnus? – flattening a drone before it could take a pot-shot at Arcee. But they were still all badly outnumbered.

Especially the other red and white mech with sparkbeat decals on his shoulders and arms whom Ratchet had just spotted. He was holding his own against a cluster of automata he could see, but had no attention to spare for the two about to sneak up on him. Ratchet did, and dispatched them with a pair of magnetic pulses. They’re just robots. Like those blasted police drones back in Detroit.

“Thank you,” the other medibot said, having finished off his final attacker (for the moment). “Ratchet.”

“Don’t mention it – Ratchet.” That could only be his alternate. But the field-tech wasn’t in the mood to try to forge any sort of connection or find common ground beyond the obvious. “What in the Pit were you doing so far from the others, with no-one to watch your backplate? Don’t you have a partner?” Ratchet himself never really had – not a long-term one, at least. On mop-up operations, like the one on the Hydrax Plateau, he tended to drive solo, as he did in peacetime. The ‘bots who volunteered or were assigned to him as partners for actual battles didn’t last – they always requested transfers or were reassigned, invalided out or, very rarely and despite his best efforts, killed. None of them had been quite right. (If his first meeting with Arcee had gone differently, maybe… Well, no point going down that road now.) But this older version of himself, a combat medic in an ongoing war, should have had somebot. Or stayed nearer the rest of his unit.

“Not at present,” other-Ratchet replied stiffly. Ah. There was a story there, the kind they were surely both familiar with. It could wait, but the battle couldn’t.

“In that case, I guess we’d better stick together for now. The young ‘bots are going to need both of us in good working order by the end of this, I suspect.”

“That would be acceptable.” Slag, where had the mech grown up? He was worse than Glitch. As the pair of medics rejoined the battle, that gave Ratchet an idea. “I hope my student hasn’t given you too much trouble.”

“Quite the reverse,” his counterpart assured him. “She’s helped to take care of my team, even when – I couldn’t.” Another story there. That one, too, could wait.

“Sounds about right.” Despite himself, Ratchet smiled at the thought of his young padawan. Not having her around had been – difficult. He hadn’t realised how much he’d come to rely on her presence, let alone her skills. He could still look after all his teammates on his own, and help Elita with the research the two femmes had been working on, but – it hadn’t been anywhere near the same.

She wasn’t quite the same any more, he had a feeling, and at least one of the changes was positive. He’d heard her answer the call for a medic, quickly, calmly and without hesitation, just as he’d been trying to teach her. Several months in that reality had accelerated the process, it seemed. He was sure he’d be proud of the ‘bot she had become; he just wished it hadn’t taken a slagging war for that to happen so fast.

“Fliers inbound, bearing three-two-seven and closing fast,” an unfamiliar voice said over the comm network. A mech, with a peculiar accent Ratchet thought humans might call “Texan”. “We could sure do with some air support.”

“Jetfire! Jetstorm! Intercept those fliers!” Sentinel barked. To his credit, the young flybots actually listened, breaking off their assault on the rear ranks of the enemy and flanking Omega Supreme once more as he flew towards the new threat, placing himself in even greater danger without hesitation. Ratchet had been the one to teach him to do that, but it still hurt to see it, especially after everything his old friend had been through recently. Swoop was quick to join them, as, unfortunately, was Prime.

Young idiot, Ratchet thought. Sure, he’s darn good with his mods on the ground, and not too bad in the air these solar-cycles, but what’re grappling hooks and an axe going to do against that many natural fliers when he’s got to manage the jetpack as well? Prime’s victory over Megatron had laid most of Ratchet’s misgivings about his jetpack to rest, but it still made him uncomfortable at times. (And integrating it with his alt-mode had been a major processor-ache.) Optimus was a good kid, but he tended to jump into situations bumper-first, far more often than was ideal for Ratchet’s oil pressure. There had to be some way the field-tech could help him.

As he racked his CPU for a solution, he caught sight of his alternate’s expression as he watched the young commander take to the skies. It was the look of someone finding an old picture of a lost friend – sorrow and remembered joy combined. Ratchet realised he hadn’t seen another red and blue mech among the other Autobots, even though Glitch had told Bumblebee there was another Optimus Prime in that universe. Ah.

“So that’s your Optimus,” the other Ratchet murmured. “I see why Glitch was so good at managing ours.” The past tense confirmed the field-tech’s suspicions, but he let the subject drop – for the present.

“The ancient art of officer-wrangling. Something every medibot should know.” And speaking of officers… As his counterpart agreed with him, Ratchet’s optic fell on that cyber-clown Sentinel, inexpertly waving the Magnus Hammer around. Now he had an idea.

***

As the ground fell away, Optimus took the opportunity to survey the battle below him from a new perspective. The difference between his team (plus Sentinel and the Dinobots) and the resident Autobots was glaringly obvious when viewed from above – not just in size and construction, or even in choice of weapons. (Autobots using blasters? Now that was a strange concept.) The other mecha, with the possible exception of the bright red one now paired with Elita, had so clearly been fighting together for, in some cases, centuries if not millennia. They knew one another’s and their own strengths and weaknesses, and acted accordingly; even ridiculously outnumbered, they held a loose formation that could have come from an Academy textbook. His own ‘bots were scattered around rather less neatly, though most had found their way to a more experienced partner. The Bulkheads were fighting side by side, as were the Ratchets, judging by the other mechs’ colour schemes. Jazz and Arcee had teamed up with a white mech Optimus didn’t immediately recognise. Sentinel, of course, was ploughing through the enemy by himself, as were Grimlock and Snarl, but Optimus was pleased to see that Bumblebee and Glitch were reunited once more and still an ideal partnership.

Bumblebee had, naturally, been hit hardest by his sweetspark’s disappearance, but it hadn’t been easy for any of them to get used to her sudden absence. Even with Bulkhead spending more and more time on Earth, the Plant had been far too quiet without her. No duets sung at top volume until somebot – usually Ratchet or Elita – ran out of patience, no heated Ninja Gladiator tournaments, no sci-fi marathons – and no fire alarms or small explosions in her lab. No long, rambling conversations deep into the night. Fewer sparring sessions in which the teachers learned almost as much as the student. Still, months later, he wasn’t used to it. And, with any luck, he wouldn’t have to be much longer.

Although if he didn’t stay sharp, he wouldn’t be used to anything any more. The flying drones were as stupid and sparkless as the ones on the ground, but they were just as much of a threat. Omega Supreme carved a great swathe through the flock of fliers, and the Jet twins and Swoop mopped up many of the others, but that still left plenty for Optimus to take on – trying his best to use his axe or his grapplers without losing his balance, and regretting another hasty decision.

“Prime!” Ratchet called over comms. “Catch!” Before Optimus could reply, the Magnus Hammer soared towards him, borne aloft by two familiar arcs of pink energy. He caught it instinctively, his servos and pistons remembering its weight and power even better than his processor did. Now there was a weapon he could use in that situation.

Wielding the ancient hammer, whether as a blunt instrument or to control the elements, grew a little easier every time. As always, as he sent drone after drone flying, he had the sense that it was co-operating with him, not just being operated like any other tool. And it seemed, bizarrely, to like him at last. Knowing Sentinel, I can’t say I’m surprised.

But even that wasn’t quite enough; like their land-based counterparts, the fliers just kept coming, forcing the Autobot air support back until they were over the ground battle.

“Glitch, can you thin the flock out a bit?” someone – someone with a very commanding presence – asked over comms. One of the classic blunders, Optimus thought, imagining the tiny field-tech solving the problem she had been posed, head tilted to one side, optics flickering as her processor worked at a rate of gigaflops. He asked a question rather than giving her an order.

“Yes,” came the answer.

“Then do it.” No irritation at being taken literally. The questioner had known how she would interpret his words.

“Wilco.” Optimus didn’t have time to wonder how the small grounder would manage that before he saw her, driving up one of the robots, jumping off its shoulder, transforming in midair and landing in root mode on a flier’s back. A swift slash with her laser scalpel sent it spiralling to Cybertron as she jumped to another flier, then another, disabling each one with her usual elegance and efficiency. (And never lingering long enough to realise how high up she was.)

Unfortunately, Jetfire and Jetstorm were also on typical form – displaying more power than sense. Optimus only just managed to call out a warning before Jetfire accidentally tried to flame her; she brought her magnetic shield up with maybe a nanoklik to spare. “Throttle back, you idiot!” he heard from behind a wall of fire. “I’m on your side!”

“Sorry,” Jetfire called back, already darting away. But the damage was done; her timing was badly off as she tried to continue. A few fliers later, she missed her footing by centimetres and ended up clinging to her next victim’s wing, struggling to climb up onto its back.

She won’t make it, Optimus realised. She was strong for her size, but tired from the ground battle. And a fall from that height could do some serious damage. A sweep of the Magnus Hammer and a well-placed tornado bought him enough space, and therefore time, that he could use his grappling hook to pull her to safety, but not without taking a servo off his main weapon. Could his jetpack take their combined weight, even if he could balance it properly?

“Autobot in danger.” Omega Supreme took the decision from him, coming back round – still in ship mode – and extending a manipulator arm ready to catch his mentor’s other student. She looked to her commander – asking for permission to abandon her task, he was pretty sure – then, when he nodded, managed to let herself fall into the Sentinel’s waiting servo. She was safe.

Or as safe as any of them were. The ground battle was going the Autobots’ way, but the fliers were a different matter. Optimus knew what he had to do. “Omega, Jetfire, Jetstorm, fall back; everyone else, take as much cover as you can. I’ve got an idea.” Omega Supreme did as he was ordered, setting Glitch down, transforming and landing on his peds, but the others didn’t take a blind bit of notice.

“Get out of there, numb-nodes!” For once, Optimus was glad of Sentinel’s more abrasive command style; it was what the flier twins needed. They darted off to a safe distance, leaving Optimus almost alone with the drones. “Swoop, you too. I don’t want to fry you by accident.” The pterano-‘bot cawed in assent and glided away to rejoin his fellow Dinobots.

Now or never. Optimus had used the Magnus Hammer to control the wind, to an extent, but he hadn’t unlocked its more impressive capabilities. Unless he did, though, the Autobots could well lose the battle, and quite possibly their lives. He had to go further than ever before.

Reaching out to the legendary weapon as he had when facing the Lugnuts Supreme, trusting it to help him, he raised it as high as he could, then brought it down handle-first as though to strike the ground, and called down the power of the storm.

Much to his surprise, it actually worked. Lightning stabbed down from the suddenly clouded sky, striking every one of the drones and sending them crashing to Cybertron below – and narrowly missing the Autobot. Once he could see again, he looked down to find that Omega Supreme had sheltered most of his team and their allies; he had some spectacular dents on his back, but they were probably superficial. Ratchet, Glitch and another mech had protected the others. The grounder drones hadn’t been so lucky; many had been crushed by their fellow robots, and the rest would be easy to destroy.

But their troubles weren’t quite over. Before Optimus could land, his radar picked up another flier, closing in too fast for comfort. “Anyone know what that might be?”

“Hold on.” He wouldn’t be surprised to find that Glitch had hacked his radar display, and honestly he didn’t mind. Not where she was concerned. “Oh, nuts and bolts. Starscream.”

Still alive in that reality, clearly, and probably even more dangerous. Optimus would be offline on his peds if he were on the ground, but he braced himself for combat all the same. Jetfire and Jetstorm were quick to join him; Omega tried, but Ratchet managed to persuade him to hang back for the moment. Optimus could picture the others priming weapons, ready to try to shoot the Decepticon down. If that’s even possible.

“Second contact,” the Texan-sounding ‘bot from earlier reported. “Also coming in fast.”

“Another problem?” Optimus was already too tired for this.

“Going by his trajectory,” Glitch told him, “only for Screamer.” She was right; the two fliers were on a collision course. Optimus could just see them approaching each other, the jet that was apparently Starscream trying and failing to avoid the other, less identifiable craft, who transformed into a huge, heavily armoured mech moments before impact, the better to steer his opponent away. And he heard, very clearly, the mech’s roar of, “What part of “the Decepticons are no more” do you not understand?”

“Who on Cybertron was that?” Sentinel demanded.

“Megatron,” Glitch said casually. “Very long story very short, he’s retired.”

That was a story Optimus definitely wanted to hear. Later. The skies were clear at last, and the ground battle was over; he landed as neatly as he could and passed the Magnus Hammer back to Sentinel, who glared briefly at him, then at Ratchet – until he saw the other, taller Ratchet, still cleaning blue Energon from his built-in scalpel blades, standing beside his counterpart, and very sensibly looked around for an easier target. Unfortunately, he found one. Elita.

“What are you doing here, mutant freak?” He glared down at his former sweetspark, who gave as good as she got.

“Trying to save a few Autobot circuits. As you could see if that chin weren’t in the way, I’m not with the Decepticons any longer. I haven’t been for orbital cycles.” Elita had had the Deceptibrand removed by Ratchet and Glitch soon after returning to Detroit, but wasn’t ready to take the Autobrand again – yet.

“I’ll vouch for her.” Glitch had put herself between the belligerent Prime and the irritated techno-organic, fixing the former with her sixty-megawatt glare. “Per regulations, on finding Elita severely injured, I treated her wounds as best I could and brought her back to Detroit for further care. And as her attending medibot, I decided that informing Cybertron of her return would be detrimental to her wellbeing. To the best of my knowledge, she has no further loyalty to the Decepticons, but she has been a major asset to Team Detroit.” Her words were exactly what Optimus would have expected from her, but the confidence in them was new. When he had last seen her, she would have been terrified of speaking out of turn so boldly to her acting Magnus’ face, and hidden that fear too well. But she wasn’t hiding anything. Optimus even saw her hand moving in one of her default “stims” (her thumb running back and forth across the tips of her other digits), not an anxious one. She had probably seen worse since leaving Detroit than one angry superior officer.

“I second that,” he put in, moving to her side. “Elita was a Decepticon, but she was an Autobot before that, one of us. She only changed sides because she wouldn’t be safe on Cybertron.” And because she felt abandoned by the Autobots, but Sentinel knew that all too well. “She’s a valued member of my team, and if you want to change that, you’ll have to go through all of us.”

Sentinel was purple with outrage. “I’ll bust you both back to protoform for this! I am still your Magnus, and…”

“Not here.” One of the biggest Autobots Optimus had ever seen had come up behind Elita. A blue and white mech over two mechanometres taller than Bulkhead, holding an Energon-coated golden war hammer Sentinel would probably struggle to lift. “That title has no meaning in this universe. You cannot take action against anyone here, and if you are wise, Sentinel, you will take none when you return. I have fought alongside Field-tech Glitch many times, and there is surely no more loyal Autobot in any reality. From what I have heard and seen, the same can be said of young Optimus, and while Elita’s path through life may have been… unconventional, it was an article of faith with my former commander that every sentient being possesses the capacity for change. I believe she has changed for the better, and will continue to do so. Besides, Glitch’s actions, as she has said, were in strict accordance with both the spirit and the letter of your own Autobot Code. You cannot discipline her or Optimus merely because you disagree with their decision.”

As Sentinel spluttered and tried to think of a reply, Elita turned to the newcomer. “Thanks, big guy. What’s your name?”

“I am Ultra Magnus.” Optimus should have guessed that. He should also have straightened up and saluted, but he was just too tired. “Commander of the Wreckers.” The huge mech paused. “And second-in-command to Optimus Prime.”

He must have known. He must have known the effect that revelation would have on his audience. There was no way Glitch wouldn’t have told him that in their universe, “Prime” was a lesser rank than “Magnus”. And yet he just dropped that bombshell, then strode away to check on his troops (including a white mech with green and red accents who had been watching the whole exchange), leaving Elita wide-opticed with amazement and Sentinel as slack-jawed as his chin allowed. Optimus didn’t compile it either, but he’d have time to figure everything out later. He had a question he wanted to ask Glitch. “So there is another Optimus Prime here?” Bumblebee had said that there was, but Optimus hadn’t seen him yet.

“There – was.” The young femme’s gaze dropped to the ground as her face fell.

Oh.

Oh.

Remembering their first meeting, Optimus knelt down so that she could look him in the optic if she wanted and reached out to touch two digits to her chestplate, over her spark chamber, then to his. I share your grief, the gesture was meant to say.

“Thank you.” Glitch managed a smile as she met his optics for a few nanokliks.

“What happened? If you’re ready to talk about it,” he added hurriedly. She was, it seemed.

“Long story short, to protect the Allspark he had to merge it with his own spark.” Like Prowl. “He survived long enough to say goodbye, but – he had to return the Allspark to the Well, and go with it.”

His counterpart had sacrificed himself for Cybertron’s future. Optimus had some catching up to do. If Ratchet and Glitch let him, which was unlikely.

“She’s grown up a bit,” Elita commented as Glitch excused herself and headed off to do her job. She was right. Optimus had seen new scars on the younger femme’s arm, a new hardness in her optics as she confronted Sentinel, a new sharpness to her movements in battle. For a few moments, he feared that her time in a still-war-torn universe had damaged her beyond repair. But then he noticed the way her face both softened and lit up as she caught sight of Bumblebee, chatting away to a black and yellow mech and a blue femme, and relaxed. At spark, she was still the same ‘bot who would cover and stand up for her fellow cadets, and take on other trainees’ shifts in med school – and call in some of those favours to attend a stranger’s funeral. Who managed to talk Professor Princess out of doing any further damage, and stayed up all night after falling into a research wormhole. Who kept the flowers Bumblebee gave her alive as long as she could, and bought him pot plants known to attract bees. Who fed the birds nesting in Prowl’s tree, and removed spiders from the Plant without harming them. One of the gentlest ‘bots Optimus had ever met, as well as one of the bravest. She’ll be fine. Especially with Bumblebee by her side.

***

Here came one of Glitch’s least favourite parts of her job, almost as bad as datawork. The part where she was running on fumes and at least halfway to a shutdown or meltdown but still had to keep going, checking for injuries (and double-checking certain ‘bots, not naming any sports cars in particular) and tending to those she found. And, on that day, greeting her original teammates and honorary teammates, and making any introductions that were necessary. That part made everything else worthwhile.

Bulk, of course, swept her into an armour-denting hug the moment he set optics on her, and she did her best to return it. Arcee, surprisingly, did the same (less exuberantly), though they didn’t really know each other. (They did, however, have a certain red and white mech in common.) Her mentor and sensei were never very physically affectionate, but they were just as happy to see her as she was to see them; Ratchet commented on her upgraded mods, and Jazz on the Tokyo accent she’d picked up practising her Japanese with Miko. The most unexpected greeting came from Grimlock, the leader of the Dinobots, who usually didn’t even work with the Autobots. (Had Sentinel known they were coming beforehand, or had they stowed away?)

“Cycle-Lady strong now,” he said, resting his head on her shoulder. “Like Dinobot.”

“Thank you,” she replied, resisting the impulse to stroke him with difficulty. Dinobots not pets. “But Dinobots still rule.”

“Dinobots rule,” Grimlock agreed before lumbering away to assert his dominance over Fire Jet-‘Bot and leaving her to get on with her work.

At long last, everybot had been checked over and patched up and she was free to seek out her partner. Despite being deep in conversation with Bumblebee and ‘Cee still, and despite her soundless way of moving, he turned towards her while she was a couple of mechanometres away; her spark skipped a beat when he smiled at her, and accelerated to a hum as he pulled her into a tight hug.

“We won,” was all she could say.

“We won,” he echoed, then met her halfway as she leaned in to kiss him.

Stars, that was worth the long months without him. For a servoful of nanokliks that might have been an eternity, they were flying through the heavens, faster than light, stars and planets passing by in so many blurs. She didn’t want that moment ever to end, but as all things must, it did.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he said, resting his forehead against hers, his arms still around her and vice versa.

“I can’t promise that.” She caught ‘Cee’s optic for a nanoklik, and remembered another promise, one her friend had extorted a few months previously. If you still care for each other when you see him again – life’s too short not to say how you feel. “But what I can promise you, I will. If you’ll accept it.”

Bee took a moment to figure out what she meant – then his face was lit by a smile that melted her circuits. “Of course I will.” The smile became a trifle mischievous. “Maybe it’s a good thing we can’t have human food. You’d probably have proposed with a mug of cocoa.”

Deliriously happy (and exhausted) as she was, it took her a moment to work out the reference. Doctor Who. “The Aztecs”. The Doctor accidentally becoming engaged to Cameca, much to Ian’s amusement. Bee did pay attention even to the slower episodes, after all. “Probably.”

He kissed her again, just as passionately as before (passion she did her best to return), breaking away only when they both realised they had an audience. The rest of Team Detroit and Team Prime had clustered around to congratulate them on their engagement, and Glitch had never wanted to disappear so badly in all her life. Even Bee seemed to have had enough after a while.

They were saved by the bell, or rather by Optimus’ timer alarm. “I told Sari to reopen the space-bridge in five cycles’ time, so that we could get home. Are you – ready to come back?” Boss-‘Bot must have seen that Team Prime had become as much her family as Team Detroit was, and their universe another home. It wasn’t a trivial calculation.

“Yes,” she concluded. “Especially now.” She cast a glance at Bee, which nearly derailed her train of thought. “But – could Sari come here for a bit? I want to show you around first. Not just here,” she added quickly. Cybertron had been made habitable by the Omega Lock, but it was still a wreck. “Our Earth base, as well.”

Optimus had to check with Sentinel, who was still his commanding officer, but a stern look from Magnus silenced any potential opposition from that quarter. “I don’t see why not.”

Glitch savoured every moment as the party headed back into Iacon, but she already knew she wouldn’t be leaving that universe forever. She had friends, family, homes in both realities, and wasn’t ready to give any of them up. Besides, she could see other interdimensional friendships forming around her. Bulk and Bulkhead had hit it off splendidly, Arcee and Wheeljack were talking nineteen to the dozen (what did that phrase mean?), with occasional input from Jazz, and even the Ratchets seemed to be getting along. In their respective ways. It was definitely a day for “hello” as well as “goodbye”.

---

By the way, this isn't the end of this AU, but while I work on the next one a scrap(let) of feedback never goes amiss.

#transformers prime #transformers animated #fanfic #autobot oc #tfp knockout #tfp wheeljack #tfa bumblebee #tfa elita one #tfp bumblebee #tfa ratchet #tfp ratchet #tfa optimus prime #tfa sentinel prime #tfp ultra magnus #misplaced medic au

[amosbrittany]

Shattered Chapter 1

Disclaimer : I don’t own Transformers Animated or any characters for that matter.

Notes : I haven’t done fanfiction, let alone TF based, in ages. And never for TFA, So I don’t really know what the hell I’m doing but what the hell, I’m going for it. lol I took quite a few liberties, pulling bits from various continuities to build this sucker.

Warnings : I have a tendency to put characters through hell. Violence and character death this chapter. Eventual Optimus/Sentinel, Megatron/Ultra Magnus, Bumblebee/Blitzwing, Jazz/Prowl and Ratchet/Pharma.

Summary : The road to hell is paved with good intentions, but Sentinel’s latest stunt might just kill them all...or worse.

The Fringes had to be the worst possible place to put a space bridge. On the very edge of Autobot territory, it took a regular beating from the Decepticons and even anti-Cybertronian organics. Crews came and went during its construction and maintenance, at times never making it back to Cybertron at all. For the most part, the disappearances were blamed on the Cons. It was a dangerous assignment that wasn't helped in the slightest if the crew assigned were full of incompetent or delinquent workers,  which was typically the case as no one with a whole procoessor would settle for the post.

Sentinel Prime knew Alpha Trion  sent him out here in particular as punishment, pure and simple. After the unmitigated fiasco Megatron's trial had been, he'd not only lost his position as Magnus but as second-in-command as well. He was bumped all the way down to repair duty with a group of fools and sent off to the Fringes. Naturally, he was angry. He was angry with the Decepticons for living up to their cursed name, at Alpha Trion, and at Optimus for not only upstaging him with the Powermaster armor but for taking his job afterward. He was humiliated and bitter. His team didn't help make the situation much better.

There were four other bots on the large rockbound base with him. Broadside was one of few triple changers in their ranks who could turn into a plane and a sea craft...but he was deathly afraid of both heights and water. Sentinel had no idea how that was feasibly possible, but he imagined the bot would have a spark attack on Earth when the rain came. Second was Landfill, and despite being a decent soldier and overall nice guy, he lived up to his name. Quite literally. Sentinel had no idea where the stench was emanating from on the mech's person and it was almost insulting that the mech couldn't pick it up himself. The whole team kept a wide distance from him at all times. Sentinel knew he could be whiny at times himself, but Huffer took the oil cake. He took the oil cake and complained the whole time he ate it at that. He avoided literally everything difficult, whining about it for good measure and he was the most likely bot Sentinel was going to throttle one day.

The only member of the team worth anything was the medic and truth be told, Sentinel had major concerns about the mech. Dark rumors from Delphi on Messatine followed this bot after his experimental jet upgrades following the success of the twins. Pharma had apparently glitched in the processor and hard from the procedures, not only setting a plague loose on the facility, but sawing a Decepticon defector that recently joined their ranks in half. Length ways. After some orbital cycles under intensive therapy, the doctor was cleared for limited duty and shipped off with him out to the Fringes, away from the good people of Cybertron in case he lost it again. There were a few times the Prime caught his medic giggling in an alarming manner and even talking to himself, so Sentinel wasn't entirely comfortable with his presence. But Pharma was the best in the field, so he prayed it panned out well for them.

"Can you not figure out why Landfill stinks so bad? What kind of doctor are you?" Huffer whined, shaking Sentinel out of his thoughts rudely. They stood gathered at the base of the space bridge, surveying the damage recently wrought by an agitated Deception that had attacked in passing.

"Last time I checked, it was my job to make sure you don't offline and continue to function optimally...Not help you smell like fragging rosewood." Pharma hissed, brandishing an inactive saw in place of his left hand at the minibot. "And if you don't shut up, I will ram this up your tail pipe and turn it on!"

Sentinel snorted. At least he didn't have to babysit the doctor.  He glanced up at the patchwork space bridge, the south pole smoking the hit and run. It happened frequently and it was damned annoying. "Could you all just pipe down so we can fix this and get it over with?" He scowled at the rest of the team.

"But...But that's so high up..." Broadside frowned.

"Oh for frag's sake..." Pharma rolled his optics, hands thrown in the air. "You have a plane alt-mode. What is your malfunction?!"

"At least it isn't as bad as yours-" Sentinel could appreciate Huffer's brave attempt at snark, but the screaming that followed it as the jet transformed and proceeded to run the minibot down in retaliation just ground further on his nerves.

Landfill called from a few yards away. "Permission to come closer?"

"Permission denied." Sentinel grumbled. "Go, I don't know...Scout the area or something, make sure the Cons don't set anything unwelcome up."

"SIR YES SIR!" Obviously happy to have his orders, the truck changed forms and drove off to scout around. The asteroid was sizable, so it would almost be a mega cycle before he swung back their way.

After knocking Huffer violently into a hole that would likely take him a few cycles to climb out of, Pharma returned to the pair, gracefully transforming as he dropped down. If the slagger wasn't so crazy, Sentinel would be tempted to talk him into a casual frag or two. He was quite the piece of optic candy, the only piece available really. But the jet prattled on in the worst way about Ratchet of all people, so he doubted he would have much luck. "Enjoy yourself? Because we have work to do." Sentinel grumbled.

"I'm a medic, not a mechanic." Pharma groused back, examining his fingertips.

"It's the same damn thing." The Prime held up his hand as his comment almost earned him a scathing lecture about the differences. "I don't want to hear it. Get this scaredy-bot up there somehow and take care of it while I get Huffer! And that's an order if you need clarification!"

He ignored as Pharma acted like he asked him to move the moon, turning away in favor of fishing Huffer out of his hole so they could get to work at the base of the structure. Beyond the upkeep of the space bridge, which would be their way home in case things went south where they were, he couldn't be bothered with improvements to the troops. They were good soldiers, for the most part, but personality flaws were a pain in the aft to try and work over. Besides, he didn't necessarily mind so long as the work got done, his mind was elsewhere anyway. All he could think about were his recent failures and how he was going to get back up in the ranks, at least enough to get positioned back on Cybertron. It was glaringly obvious Optimus would be following in Ultra Magnus's footsteps and he doubted the golden mech was going anywhere any time soon.

Sentinel sighed to himself, crouching at the edge of the hole for a moment. He was finding it hard to stay angry at Optimus, at least a little. Of course, the business with Elita-1 was always at the heart of his ire, but somehow seeing what she had become and the horrible things she was out there doing like what happened to Wasp had tempered it. When Optimus had taken Megatron down and brought the remaining Decepticons back to Cybertron, he had to admit his old friend looked like he had been dragged through the slag pits. He found it hard to imagine what it was like in that battle and he sometimes wondered if he would have had as much mettle to duke it out with the tyrant in the fragging air as he had. The disgraced Prime wasn't exactly a slouch in combat simulations, but he wasn't nearly as battle-hardened as Optimus. His optics flickered thoughtfully, coming out of his musings when he realized he wasn't absently listening to Huffer complain. "Huffer?"

The hole was empty. Turning on his headlights to examine the small pit better, it looked to turn into a tunnel that dipped down after a solid foothold. He could even see where Huffed had hit the edge and likely slid his way deeper into the asteroid. Sentinel let out a long, suffering sigh. Now he had to go searching for the little pest.

<Good job, Pharma. You knocked him Primus knows where.> Sentinel scowled as he climbed down into the hole.

<Well, I say good riddance.>

<That tower better be patched by the time I drag him out.> His threat was answered with some mild grumbling. After reaching the foothold, he slid down into the tunnel, sliding for several yards before he was struck by an odd sense of vertigo. His HUD exploded with warnings on a somewhat muffled and unknown energy reading that was turning his systems on their head. Sentinel grimaces, digging his fingers into the rock to stop himself. 'Woah, that's not right...' His knees shook as he tried to collect himself. He noticed there were spidery veins of glowing violet embers visible in the cracks and further down, there were large chunks of what reminded him of raw crystallized energon that grew in abundance deeper in. Tank churning, Sentinel hurriedly climbed his way back out, thankful that getting topside cleared up his readings.

"Ugh..." Sentinel shook his head, glancing back. <Pharma, what the hell is underground in this rock?>

<How am I supposed to know? I'm a doctor. DOC-TOR. Not a digger. Landfill is the geologist specialist. Why?>  After Sentinel explained what he ran into, Pharma sounded far too fascinated for his taste. <Odd. I don't suppose you brought a sample back out with you, did you?>

<Frag no. You think I want to touch that stuff?> Sentinel made a face. Of course, now they had a new problem. <Huffer, come in.> There was silence from the minibot. <We can't leave him down there...Whatever is down there.>

<Well, I'm not going down there and getting my circuits fried. They're already bad enough as it is...>

The Prime ran a servo over his face, sighing. No, he didn't need Pharma going postal on them. Resting his elbow into his servo, he gently tapped the knuckles of his free servo against his chin as he considered what to do. There weren't many reports on the innards of the large asteroid they were on, the ones there were mostly belonged to the teams who never survived their assignment and even then, there wasn't much to them. The reports got progressively more erratic prior to their stopping completely. Given what he felt when he was down there, Sentinel mused whether the energy from the crystals had been a bigger problem than realized. It was a suspicion he was going to have to put in his report.

Pharma and Broadside returned to him. "...Well?" The medic crossed his arms, head tilted.

"...I guess we're leaving him down there." Sentinel frowned. It wasn't a great call, but he didn't want the whole team to be the next crew to go MIA. That wouldn't look good for him. "If he's all right, he'll find his way out."

"And if he's not...?" Broadside didn't look pleased.

"Then...we'll...send a report he went missing. If we find him, we find him...But I'm not sending anyone down there and don't even think about arguing with me about it. I don't know what the frag is down there and I don't really want to. It felt all kinds of wrong."

"But you're just going to leave Huffer down there?" The triple changer pressed before he glowered at Pharma. "And what about him? This psychopath was the one who knocked him in there in the first place!"

"In my defense, I thought it was a simple hole." Pharma sniffed.

Sentinel shook his head. "No one is going down there till we have more information, now let's deal with the rest of these repairs. And Primus willing, the Cons will let us call it a solar cycle."

~+~

Sentinel returned to the Axalon after sending Broadside and Pharma out to hunt for Landfill when the truck never returned to the post. They'd never had an issue with someone patrolling around alone until now. It left the Prime uncertain if it was at all connected with Huffer's disappearance...or those of past crews. It was possible the bot could have been picked off by the Decepticons, but then Sentinel was sure Landfill would have called for backup if that were the case. He went digging into the base's old files as he compiled his own report, pausing when it sounded like company had joined him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Pharma.

And only Pharma.

"...Please tell me you didn't kill Broadside." Sentinel muttered flatly.

The medic gave him an offended look. "No. I did not. He ran off on his own, thank you very much."

"And why did you not stay with him?" He demanded in exasperation.

"Because the daft fragger decided to take a cave tunnel down to go look for that idiot Huffer. That's why." Pharma scowled back at him. "I started to follow him in, when I started to feel what you described and heard voices so I decided to backtrack and report in. This infernal rock is probably layered with particular metals and stone that keep the underground contained below because he wasn't responding to his infernal comm-link after I backed out of the cave."

Well, that explained why Huffer hadn't answered him. But something was bothering him about this situation. Something was putting a bad twist in his tank. "...Lock down the Axalon." Pharma gave him a perplexed look before he shrugged and the two of them set about doing so. Once the ship was sealed off, he felt only somewhat better.

"What is with you...?"

"Not sure...I just have this feeling there is something weird going on and it's bugging the hell out of me."

Pharma frowned, scratching his chin thoughtfully. He supposed his Prime had a point. There was something unsettling about their team's disappearances. He had a feeling even a brief exposure to whatever was below ground had helped unnerve them. "You know..." Pharma began thoughtfully, looking out the bridge window. "The Decepticons never really touch down here or properly engage. It's always passing aerial strikes. Do you suppose they are wary of the asteroid?"

Sentinel's optics flickered with surprise at how he had never considered that. "That...would make sense. I mean if anyone would know these parts...It would be the Decepticons. But..." He frowned. He didn't want to try and communicate with a Con again. It would look bad, especially after the last time he had struck a deal with one. Of course, losing three of his four team members was pretty bad too. But maybe he could get answers without completely damning himself. He pulled up the communications array and started to ring up Cybertron. Pharma gave him a curious look but stayed quiet as the line was opened with high command. Sentinel sighed as he found Optimus staring back at him.

"Sentinel...?" The SIC seemed a little surprised to be hearing from him since all of his reports were in file format and he generally let Pharma deal with the talking. It was hard enough just looking at him and seeing just a bit of the Elite Guard badge on his shoulder.

"I'm going to cut to the chase, Optimus." Sentinel completely skipped over pleasantries. He hadn't wanted to make this call but he had little choice. "Earlier this solar cycle, one of my men took a tumble down a tunnel. When I attempted to retrieve him, my systems were assaulted by a strange energy source, so the retrieval was aborted. Landfill who was sent out on a scouting assignment has not returned. I sent Broadside and Pharma to look for him, but they found nothing and Broadside decided to venture underground to find Huffer. Pharma attempted to go with him, but was assaulted by the same queer energy and reported back. We can't contact them and they've-"

"Oh look, there's Huffer!" Pharma piped up cheerfully.

"Uhh..." The Prime's faceplate heated up as he glowered at the jet, paying the amused look Optimus gave him no mind. He stood to look over the console, seeing the minibot. But his gait was...off and he had an odd, distinct violet glow emanating from his biolights. Pharma took his pedes off the console and leaned forward for a better look himself.

The SIC called to them. "Sentinel? Is it Huffer? Is he all right?"

"Well, he looks kind of funny-" Not that he wasn't built funny for a minibot to begin with but something was quite off now. But neither of the bots had much time to contemplate the differences as the short mech launched himself into the air and threw himself into the windshield. Pharma shrieked, falling back out of his seat and Sentinel staggered back in shock. Huffer's faceplate was twisted in a ghoulish visage of hateful rage as he proceeded to pound on the thick glass, quickly causing the material to crack under his blows. The Prime cursed as he accidentally dented his leg on his chair to get back, drawing his shield and lance out while engaging his face visor. "Pharma, behind me!"

"SENTINEL! What's going on?!" Optimus looked alarmed, unable to see anything but their panicked faceplates and their defensive positioning.

Pharma scrambled to get behind him as he backed further along the bridge. The windshield gave out under the minibot's assault. Sentinel tensed as the small fragger charged them, faster than he thought Huffer capable, if that even was Huffer. As the minibot lunged at him, mouth open wide with gnarled denta, the Prime struck out, driving his lance straight in. The smaller bot went rigid and twitched, speared through on the energy lance, momentarily stunned. Sentinel relaxed slightly before tensing anew as Huffer tried to drag himself towards him along the lance, as if it was a mere inconvenience at worst. The roar of a chainsaw made him jump as Pharma darted forward and pressed the saw into the minibots's head, tearing the helm apart. Violet goo spattered everywhere as the body finally went still, limbs dropping. Sentinel threw his lance down, stepping back from the speared body in horror.

"Good lord..." The medic murmured, his plates shaking. He turned off the saw, shaking off the foreign fluids. They looked over at the communication array where Optimus was just gaping at them in shock. Pharma turned to Sentinel. "He broke through the bloody window..."

That blatant observation jarred him out of his stupified state. "YA THINK?!" Sentinel sqawked back at him.

"What the hell did I just see..." Optimus's optics flickered.

Pharma crouched by Huffer, nudging him onto his back for a better look. Shards of violet were embedded under several cables, his denta were shattered as if he had been chewing on something hard and volatile, and violet goo oozed from the wounds they had inflicted to his frame. He could, however faintly, pick up on that same wrong energy they had felt from the caverns below. That feel of unease returned anew. "I don't know, Optimus Prime...But I think you should send us back-up. Immediately. Because I have a feeling Broadside and Landfill might be returning much the same way very soon."

It looked for a moment that he had lost his ability to process let alone vocalize, but Optimus regained his wits as he nodded grimly. "Understood. We'll be there asap!"

#transformers #transformers animated #sentinel prime #pharma #AU #fanfiction #optimus prime #megatron #ultra magnus #bumblebee #blitzwing #prowl #jazz #ratchet

[cyraniadebergerac]

Question Game

tagged by @planeoftheeclectic

rules:

1. answer the questions given by the person who tagged you

2. write 10 questions of your own and tag 10 people

The Questions:

1. What’s the best meal you remember?

           This one’s a toughie. My Mom’s an excellent cook. Torn between her roast chicken/turkey legs, her spaghetti with meat sauce made with wine, sausage, and tomato paste, or her salmon. If desserts are included, then Mom’s chocolate cake with ganache filling also is included. 

2. Would you rather live in/visit the Star Wars or Star Trek Universe, and why?

                   While I’d love to live in the Enterprise with Kirk, Spock, Mccoy, and their crew, I’d prefer to live in the Star Wars Universe as a whole. I find that I enjoy the triumvirate with Uhura, Scotty, Sulu, and Chekov within the Enterprise and am more wary of the Federation as a whole with the Vulcans the only race I really enjoy within their universe. I rooted for the Enterprise and Kirk instead of Starfleet. The Star Wars Universe though,  you have the Force and a lot more fun races like the Twi’leks, the Chiss, and the Wookies. You also have more people you can root for and a look at how good organizations can do wrong things and not everyone in an evil organization are themselves evil, yet those who seek to do what’s right are still more admirable then those who relish in evil or power for their own sakes or are simply acting in their own self-interest.

Can I live in the Enterprise while its exploring the Star Wars Universe?

3. What’s your favorite season?

               Winter. Christmas is honestly one of my favorite holidays with the challenge of finding the right gift for a person (within reason) and the various preparations and activities before Christmas and activities afterwards I enjoy snow when it falls. Winter break also allows for a focus on spending time with family. I know that not everyone enjoys that aspect and I thank God that I can. Even if my parents aren’t perfect, they do love me and want what’s best for me.

4. Are there any fandoms you aren’t in, but see a lot and look interesting?

            Well, Harry Potter I’m kind of half in this zone and half not. I’m not really into the Harry Potter books, but I love the Hogwarts House system and how it helped me learn more about myself. I also enjoy Newt Scamander though I haven’t had a chance to watch Fantastic Beasts yet. (One parent flaw: a bit overly ridgely moral at points that really don’t matter even if I can see why they hold them. They shun Harry Potter since witches by the original definition are those who sell their souls to the Devil for power and anything that says otherwise are leading you astray. Same with how dragons are suppose to be personifications of Satan and therefore always evil so anything that has good dragons is lying and shows the moral degradation of the culture. I know though that context matters, so witches can also be the term used for those born with magic and dragons are more often either creatures or their own people who can choose between right and wrong and not demons.)

5. What’s your favorite fantasy?

                  Do you mean fantasy genre? If so, my favorite honestly is between full-on sci-fi/superhero or medieval/sci-fi. I enjoy science fiction and space exploration and superheros but I also enjoy medieval fantasy with swords, born magic users, and adventurers out to explore, protect those who can’t protect themselves, and destroy evil.

                  Fantasy in general though? Well, I enjoy my anxiety-combating fantasy with Cyrania de Bergerac exploring multiple universes on the ST:TOS Enterprise with TFA Starscream and others she picks up. Its one I’ve been creating for a while. Though, I generally enjoy hero/adventurer fantasies I guess. There’s usually something clear to accomplish from save the world to explore. They’ll be seeking to do the right thing throughout their adventure, even if they’re not sure exactly what that is. They’ll fight for what’s right no matter what. Friendships are forged in fire and made unbreakable. When done best, they give hope that people can do good in the world and make an impact and that good will always triumph over evil, even if evil wins in the short term.

6. Name something you’re excited about in the near future.

                 Christmas! I hope people enjoy my gifts.

7. What D&D class would you be, and why?

                  If I were to be purely having fun without much worry about my teammates, I’d be a swashbuckler rogue with some spells learned either through multiclassing, race, or other. I enjoy the fantasies of being able to dodge attacks and taunt opponents while laying on blows to them that deal heavy damage from sneak attacking. If I was able to create it right, I could be a dodge tank for the party, drawing all enemy attention towards me in the middle of the fray while the team did other things while they were distracted, while being able to misty step away from tight spots or otherwise leave and help with the healing of teammates.

8. Name something about yourself you genuinely like.

                     I like that I do have an imagination and have always been imaginative. 

9. What is your ideal pet?

                 Cats are great as house pets, though I’ve always wanted a horse. I also enjoy the idea of a wolf, fox, or hawk as a pet.

10. Dragons or unicorns?

                Unicorn. There’s the connection to my love of horses for one thing. They’re also magical and so could probably fly as well. They’d also be a lot easier to keep around than the type of flying dragon I could actually ride.

Tagging:

@commander-ralyle @red--thedragon @remuslupinisthevoiceofgod @the-lost-lights @ask-the-paranoid-autobot @hadescavedish @flying-silver

@jtavington @rishadrayen

Your questions if you’ll choose to accept them:

1. What combination of superpowers would you prefer to have?

2. What’s something you’ve created in your head that’s difficult to share with others?

3.What are your favorite colors?

4. What’s your Hogwarts House?

5. What is a fantasy concept you’re most intrigued by?

6. What game do you most enjoy? Can be video, board, card, group, or other.

7. What got you into fandoms?

8. Name something about yourself you genuinely like.

9. What character do you identify with most?

10. If you could shapeshift into anything you could imagine, what would be your different forms and why?

#question game #thanks #long post

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

So I finally came home after 3 weeks of outdoor toil in pleasant sub-zero conditions, because someone lovingly scheduled work at sea for the middle of December (because of course the people making the decisions are not the people actually freezing outside at any point, but whatever). Anyway, I am indeed alive and, priorities being what they are, I made it to a late-night showing of The Last Jedi, woo! I got a really nice print with my ticket, too.

Short version: I like it the more I think about it and I can’t wait to rewatch, I loved how meta it was and the points it was making, I felt very catered to in various ways, including politically, which is always nice.

Rambly spoilery thoughts under the cut.

I loved so much about Luke (I first typed “everything” here but then I remembered the... milk... and noped out, ay). I felt his arc, while painful in many ways, was very on point and appropriate and made perfect sense. The whole going from cutting himself off from the Force, to more powerful than you can possibly imagine, not in a fight an entire army with a laser sword “badass” way, while still echoing those words - it was so... Jedi. The projection scene with all of its building hints that something is up was amazing, and one of the parts I’m most looking forward to seeing again. The binary sunset, an image carved so deeply into my mind way back when that’s stuck with me so closely and for so long that I can’t help but slip it into so many things I do - seeing it here, and in such a very... purposeful and peaceful full circle context, sure was something. Those kids at the end there? Playing with their Luke Skywalker action figure and being inspired by his tale? The best kind of meta. I actually have a ton of feelings and thoughts about the entire being a legend thing and making people into legends and sources of hope and all but I’m still processing.

Yoda! Yoda!!! Suddenly I was a tiny kid watching a worn out VHS of Empire again. The little troll, damn, nothing the girl doesn’t already possess, huh, I see you there, I see you. And with such a good lesson about failure - one that I feel echoes nicely throughout the movie.

Can we take Gwendoline Christie and put her in a big franchise where she won’t be criminally underused? Thanks. I was really, really looking forward to a whole Phasma vs Finn thing, as Finn and his story and the whole renegade stormtrooper thing ended up being my favourite parts of TFA, so while the scene was cool, and Finn well and truly finding and choosing his place and life as Rebel Scum was wonderful, it was all way shorter and less prominent than I expected, alas (would’ve been nice to see some of that “surviving at all costs, loyalty to nothing and nobody” from Phasma contrasted with him here - maybe in the, uh, next one? Because she totally survived that fall, right? Of course she did.). MORE FINN.

Every second of Leia’s screentime was a gift, she is powerful in so many ways, both as a direct actor and as an icon and beacon of hope for so many, I dearly loved how this was all acknowledged (some of it with a big whiff of FINALLY! for me). I am saddened by the way this whole movie was building up towards a big Leia arc in IX which we now won’t see, and I genuinely don’t know what they’ll do with the story. “No one's ever really gone.” wow, thanks for that shot direct through my goddamn heart. Also, I’m looking at you, AO3 Leia/Holdo tag. I’ve got my eye on you.

Rose I love to bits and I am so glad we got to meet her. It might sound silly but the best way to summarise my feelings on her would be, honestly, if she were an actual person and we met in real life, we’d get on like a house on capitalism-hating fire. Her quote about protecting what you love as the true point of resistance is a huge and important thing, I think, and for me tied into the whole thing about... basing your actions, your activism, what you try to do and what you fight for, on furthering a cause you care for and a desire to genuinely improve the world and the rights and lives of a certain group of people, as opposed to doing it to tear someone else down, prove yourself superior or make yourself look good in some way. I would have liked to see more of her and Finn’s relationship developing (and reeeeally really hope there’s nothing resembling a love triangle in the next movie, nobody needs those).

The (non)answer given here about Rey’s parentage is, honestly, what I’ve pretty much been rooting for. Between this and Rogue One, I dig the stepping away from dynasties and secret family ties and bloodlines as the sources of power and heroism. And the Force bond thing threw me back to KOTOR2 and ah, Kreia.

Also just... casually seeing women everywhere? Pilots, engineers, bridge crew, on all sides? It just felt... good.

I have very, very little personal emotional investment (to put it mildly) in Kylo Ren but I liked the direction he was taken here, the subversion of Rey’s and some of the audience’s expectations or even wishes re: redemption etc. (with another bit of the theme of drawing on stories and legends that the OT became - Luke got through to Vader in the end there, right? That’s how it’s going to go, right, how it’s supposed to, when Rey tries it?).

Porgs were pretty cute and not obnoxiously overused as I vaguely feared they might end up being.

Location shooting for Canto Bight was done here - not in the exact city I live in, but altogether close enough for the “wretched hive of outwardly more high-class scum and villainy drawing their obscene wealth from war profiteering” to hit very close to home in ways I’m sure were not intended.

Conclusion: would probably watch 5 movies about Finn and Rose Destroying Capitalism, thanks.

#i'm probably leaving out a ton of stuff here but #just getting some thoughts out there #in no particular order #there is... a Lot #that i am still pondering #and i like that tbh #star wars #the last jedi #star wars spoilers #the last jedi spoilers #tlj spoilers

[sallysklar]

Is Not Pivoting The New Pivot? Funders Are Good/Bad/Human…Plus TFA In The Dock In CA, School Safety, JanusFallout, Music…More…

Music at the top here: Bellwether’s house band Chord Values.

Happy Opening Day! Slow blogging, since last week, sorry, for a sector where nothing is happening it’s surprisingly busy. But a bunch of stuff below.

Funders! Something you hear a lot in certain rooms in this sector is how so much money is dirty. Don’t take Koch money we’re told (Bellwether doesn’t get Koch money so I don’t have a dog in this particular fight) because it’s dirty or even racist. Nevermind that Koch has an innovative partnership with UNCF and is doing some interesting work on helping ex-offenders get on with their lives even as people like me take issue with their environmental policies. Don’t take Walton money we’re often told (we do get Walton funding) and I like what they do on oceans and sustainable agriculture in addition to education. So who, then, should we take money from you sometimes ask those who know better? And  CZI / Facebook is frequently cited as one of the good guys (we have done work for them). Except, they may have had something to do with Russian efforts to interfere in our elections and just today they got sued for violating the Fair Housing Act. Or the Ford Foundation is supposed to be a virtuous one…OK really?

I’m all for disclosure of who funds what (and we have no confidential clients or funders in case you’re wondering) but this business of picking and choosing “good” funders based on perceived virtue strikes me as a very fraught business because everyone’s various heuristics seem to fall apart every time they make contact with an actual use case. Life is more complicated than this and a lot of funders, from all over the ideological spectrum, are trying to do good work as they see it – including all the ones mentioned here – and it’s probably more productive to figure out where you agree, work on shared priorities, disagree on the rest, move on.

High-Performing charters have not solved the to and through college challenge but they are putting a real dent it and changing lives. This new Richard Whitmire project is important.

The most basic thing schools should do is keep young people safe and we fail at that way too much. Appalling story. And here’s another tragic one.

And then there is this ongoing Parkland tragedy:

CNN just won the Cronkite Award for its town hall on the Parkland shooting and gun control. If it had instead sent a camera crew into the school, I think Sydney Aiello and Calvin Desir might still be with us.

Meanwhile, still too few counselors in schools – which has education and safety benefits.

This effort to get rid of TFA in California pretty much lays bare the cynical politics of this sector and how  much it has to do with power and how little it has to do with what’s good for kids. Like TFA or not, the evidence is overwhelming and pretty clear it doesn’t harm students.

$112.5 million Duke research settlement.

Janus fallout. The short term cases matter (dues refunds, reasonable ability to exit the union etc…) but as we’ve discussed here the more serious threat for the teachers unions is how far the 1st Amendment jurisprudence extends. Here’s the Bellwether deck on Janus context.

When I was on the Virginia Board of Education superintendents used to have to come and ask for waivers to open school earlier than Labor Day because of our “Kings Dominion Law.” It was a total and embarrassing charade and poor use of their time (for many school divisions a trip to Richmond is an overnight trip, Virginia’s bigger than you think). The whole spectacle was especially ridiculous because the other 95 percent of the time everyone was fetishizing “local control” as a reason not to do this or that to attack achievement gaps and other problems. Thankfully that law was just changed.

Dale Chu on the unglamorous blocking and tackling of school improvement. You also always hear about how this standards-aligned or that Common Core instruction is rote and boring or worse and these other approaches are exciting engaging. But when you spend time in classrooms with teachers who really teach – so kids are learning about what they’re reading, how to think about it and analyze it, not just superficially discussing how it makes them feel or what it reminds them of, I always think how that’s the teaching I want for my kids (and that kids in affluent suburban schools too often don’t get either). Content rich and challenging teaching engages kids…and teaches them.

New charter data in Florida.

This is not a good look for charter schools but also a good reminder that most charter authorizer are school districts or other similar public bodies (pp 70 here for the landscape) so a lot of what we casually consider “charter” problems are broader sector problems.

Also if you were wondering when the usual suspects would start to spin up and Beto O’Rourke’s wife would be come a campaign issue – here’s your answer.

Related, today in tin foil. “The people who believe this stuff are, of course, nuts.”

You may have heard about the president’s budget request and Special Olympics – they have good lobbyists. Here’s the organization’s annual report with revenue sources, the federal contribution is not insignificant and has been growing the past few years. Spoiler Alert: Congress is not going to defund Special Olympics. That was true even before Democrats took control of the House.

Surprising amount of ed content in this story about a New York political money dinner.

Yeah, sure, everyone is pivoting these days. But this seems like a good move for K12 and as we talked about the other day an area of real investor interest.

Don’t do this. And also don’t do this. People!

Happy Birthday.

Is Not Pivoting The New Pivot? Funders Are Good/Bad/Human…Plus TFA In The Dock In CA, School Safety, JanusFallout, Music…More… published first on https://buyessayscheapservice.tumblr.com/

[mustardmovieclub]

The Path to Redemption for Star Wars Episode IX

After the canon disaster known as The Last Jedi, fans are eagerly waiting to see if and how J.J. Abrams can restore balance to the universe by answering questions and tying loose ends together in the finale to the sequel trilogy. A massive feat for anyone given the inherent disconnect between TFA and TLJ, much less for JJ who has traditionally been great at setting pins up, but basically horrendous at knocking them down. He can create the good ole mystery boxes, but when it comes time to break down what’s inside, he tends to collapse on the weight of his own ambition.

For optimistic fans, there is a slight bit of hope given he did lay the groundwork here and could find a way to circle back to his original vision to give some semblance of closure to the Skywalker saga. And while it would be impressive at first glance if he’s able to pull that off, it will still also be classic lame JJ too; playing it safe. And to mold IX after essentially the Return of the Jedi model, that would be extremely safe. And after TLJ that may be a nice enough palette cleanser for the fans, but to be honest things are already too far gone and while we think that’s what the majority of fans may want in the here and now, history would prove otherwise.  The First Order defeated, Rey at the peak of her powers, all hugs and celebrations at the end etc.  Given where things stand now, it’s hard to imagine a version of that where the outcome is actually interesting or very good, isn’t it?

If things end up going that route, I’m confident in the long term JJ will get ripped to shreds for not only once again copying the original trilogy format as he did with TFA, but also for being simplistic and boring in his conclusion. He also can’t go full Rian Johnson either, which would be the other end of the spectrum and for those fans still holding on, that would be the final blow for them to severe their ties to the fandom for good.

I do believe however there is a model to follow that bring together fans who are looking for this conclusion to sync up well to the saga, and still follow it’s own path. One we would not necessarily see coming. And this would be a risk on the part of Disney to do, they haven’t exactly proven themselves risk averse killing the entire crew of Rogue One in the finale of that film.

The model for me is Revenge of the Sith. As the book end of the most recent trilogy, it was the best of the prequels and one that would stand the best chance of connecting with new youth that grew up with those films as their Star Wars. It also allows an opportunity to address many of the criticisms from the first two films without jumping the shark.

This would essentially be Kylo’s film in the way ROTS was Anakin’s. Which works well here, considering Adam Driver is one of the best actors left who could carry the film. It would delve into his full turn into the dark side, some flashbacks or exposition with the Knights of Ren,him leading the First Order and dominating the galaxy, and also give Luke a meaningful role outside of being a force ghost (which he could still be as well) if they showed some of his training and some more of the night he actually burned the Jedi Temple down etc.

Let’s evaluate all of the things Revenge of the Sith did right and how Episode IX could mirror them to address some of the biggest complaints of the sequel trilogy;

Criticism - Kylo is a Weak Villain

If there is one thing TLJ did quite well, is set up Kylo’s descent into madness after being owned by Luke and losing his mind on Crait after being punked by Rey. He still hasn’t done anything bad ass yet, but by focusing on Kylo and further following him into the Anakin path of going full darkside, you could actually make him a true force to be reckoned with. Bring back his mask, have him kill any of Leia (which he couldn’t do in TLJ), Chewy, Lando, Poe, Finn, Rose etc in the beginning of the film to set up no limits to his evil, and even choke out Hux in his frustration. Setting up an Anakin esque slaughtering of the young lings would be a nice bonus If he has time to go back and kill the force sensitive kids on Canto Bight, but that might be asking too much haha.

Criticism - A Lack of Lightsaber Fights

ROTS had two of the best lightsaber fights of the entire saga, Anakin vs Obi-Wan on Mustafar, and Yoda vs Sidious on Coruscant. You need to replicate that here. A fully powered Kylo vs a fully realized Rey would be a start, as for where the second one would come from I don’t have a clue, but with various rumors of other cameos possible, maybe it takes plane on a mental plane with a former Jedi knight? A Luke return? Another existing character like Ahsoka out of the blue to try and stop him? Who knows? But the lesson is to take as much from those two fights in ROTS as you possibly can.

Criticism - No Connection to Canon or Lore

As Kylo actually connects further to his Vader lineage, there are opportunities for him to explore Sith legends, the rule of 2 (picking his apprentice?), and all things Dark Side to expand upon pre-existing connections. He can look further into Snoke’s backstory, Palpatine, Vader, Sith planets like Mustafar, Moraband or Malachor, and even further back legends like Revan, Bane, Plagueis, etc.

Criticism - Politics

While having Kylo go full pyscho could have a bit eerie connection to the current dystopic North American situation, as he reigned with the First Order all of the other baggage some of the characters carry would be stripped away one by one when Kylo eventually destroys them. It would take a film that carries certain connotations and turn it into one with a simple message - just that on this day, evil won. There was nothing inherently political about Order 66. It would catch everyone by surprise and at the end of the film Kylo can sit on his cottage steps and watch the sun rise.

Infinity War proved it was possible to do a movie like this, and while similar this would still be completely different in its own way. You can provide a little bit of a hope at the end too, maybe Rey is one to go into hiding ala Obi-Wan to train some new Jedi after losing the battle.

It would be a dark film, and one that would be the perfect blend of Revenge of the Sith, the greatness of Infinity War, and adding something new in a Star Wars movie that would bring back a lot of the hard core fans and have them believe anything is possible again.

Let the past die. Kill it, if you have to. What would be more in line with that than having Kylo slice up Chewy and Lando and set the Falcon on fire as we all break out in tears? Rose crying in Finn’s arms saying “I don’t wanna go?” That’s how you set up a new era. Not by having Luke self Obi-Wan himself into dust.

A new saga,  having Kylo Ren rule the galaxy in the way Darth Vader never got to do under Palpatine. It could be epic. And completely set up the next trilogy of X/XI/XII for Rey’s new Jedi legacy to eventually bring him down the right way, as a classic and former rival. 

#TeamKylo #LetTheFirstOrderWin

[amosbrittany]

Shattered chapter 3

Disclaimer : I don’t own Transformers Animated or any characters for that matter.

Notes : I haven’t done fanfiction, let alone TF based, in ages. And never for TFA, So I don’t really know what the hell I’m doing but what the hell, I’m going for it. lol I took quite a few liberties, pulling bits from various continuities to build this sucker.

Warnings : I have a tendency to put characters through hell. A bit of Bumblebee/Blitzwing this chapter. Eventual Optimus/Sentinel, Megatron/Ultra Magnus, Jazz/Prowl and Ratchet/Pharma.

Summary : The road to hell is paved with good intentions, but Sentinel’s latest stunt might just kill them all…or worse.

There was one thing that was never recommended and that was to tell Sentinel he had a bad idea. If anything, it made him determined to see it through thus proving he was right in the first place. And if Optimus was the one trying to deny him the chance to shine? Well, all bets were off. After a solar cycle of busy work and really mulling it over, he had decided taking the chance was better than not. If it worked, he would be a hero and Ultra Magnus would be in his debt. If not...Well, he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

First, he needed a decent chunk of crystal from the asteroid. There were a few ways to get it, the less problematic approach would be if he intercepted a crate on its way to the Minisrty for inspection and ferret a piece into his subspace. He briskly made his way down to the Space Bridge Nexus after picking up the shipment's next arrival time. He scanned the various arrivals before he figured out his target. Smirking, he approached the crew, putting on his most congenial face. "Hey gents, surprise inspection if you don't mind!"

The other bots merely spared him a glance, their foreman nodded. Optimus had issued orders that this particular Prime wasn't allowed near the shipments but at the same time...it was Sentinel and he was a chore to deal with. Letting him have his way was just easier in the end compared to Optimus and his disapproval. With a pleased smile, Sentinel quietly stepped over, opening the metal crate to look in at the cargo. The dark energy wafted up as it was momentarily freed from its containment, making his HUD flare alive for a moment. Ensuring no one was watching him, he picked up a large chunk and slipped it into his subspace. He noticed it didn't feel much different to a cube of energon when he touched it. "Mm hmm, mm hmm...Everything looks in order." Sentinel dropped the top of the box back down with a loud clank, startling the workers. He smirked at the dirty looks they gave him.

Now it was time for the hard part.

Leaving the Nexus, he went on his way to where Omega Supreme was currently docked. He had waited until he knew his Academy buddy was at his busiest, hopefully he wouldn't respond too quickly. Optimus being the meddler he was had probably warned his stuffy old medic about Sentinel's suggestion so he was likely to have a cranky bot on his hands. Luckily, Pharma would be there so hopefully the jet would make himself useful.

The closer he drew to the docked juggernaut, the more nervous he felt. Maybe this was a bad idea, like Optimus said. Like when he had insisted they go to Archa Seven and Optimus had tried to talk them out of it. The Prime paused outside the ship, grinding his denta uneasily. There was something in the back of his processor trying to push him forward, urging him to carry out his plan. Dark whispers promising glorious things just around the bend. He filled his vents with air as he steeled his nerves and ascended the ramp leading into the ship. No sooner was he inside than Pharma was right there, in his way.

"Sentinel Prime. What a pleasure. But I fear we are not permitting any visitors today." The flighty medic pointed out rather quickly, his voice sweet. Clearly Ratchet and Optimus had made sure he was aware of keeping him from the Magnus. As far as Sentinel was concerned, Pharma could be a spry foe but he was ultimately a frail thing whose most dangerous asset was the chainsaw.

"Well, as your Prime, I'm gonna have to order you to step aside so I can visit him." Sentinel countered, an overly sweet smile on his faceplate.

"Mm, but I have orders from Optimus Prime, who I just alerted mind you, and with all due respect...He outranks you." Pharma struck back, honey dripping from his tone but venom from his words.

Sentinel scowled, suddenly feeling hostile as he was now pressed for time. "What, worried that fat old crankshaft will be mad at you if you don't listen?"

That made Pharma's plates puff in anger, his faceplate heating up. The doctor tried to calm himself down before he flew off the handle...again. "No. I am not worried Ratchet will be mad."

He looked around shiftily. So Pharma was the only thing in his way? Well, that simplified things nicely. Knowing his only obstacle was the medic before him, Sentinel pushed him aside with his shoulder as he pressed on. Naturally the jet sputtered in outrage and attempted to grab his arm in an effort to stop him, but the Prime let out a feral growl, grabbing his wrist and swinging him around. The spindly Autobot yelped before he hit the wall face first, turning in a daze only for Sentinel to finalize his attack with a fist to the chevron. The medic crumbled to the floor, damaged but online. He'd be out for a good while.

He lingered for a moment, guilt suddenly filling him because ill processor aside Pharma wasn't an entirely bad mech and certainly deserved better than some cheap attack like that. There was the urge to call on Ratchet, admit his frag up and abort, but the pressing shadows insisted he make it worthwhile and finish what he set out to do. Leaving the medic, he went to the bridge.

Sentinel arched an optical ridge as he entered, finding Ultra Magnus hooked to the spark support and the Empyrean Suite gently playing from one of the consoles. He snorted, trust Pharma to play his old aft prissy music. With a deep vent, he stepped up to the comatose Magnus and took in the sight of him. His rich blue was starting to dull, a sign that the spark support just wasn't holding up so well anymore. Soon enough, he would be on his way to the Well of Allsparks. It was quite the pathetic sight for a once noble warrior.

'But you can save him...' A voice murmured in the back of his processor, deep and full of rust.

"Yes. Yes I can." Sentinel smiled triumphantly. He'd save Ultra Magnus and he'd be lauded as a hero. Ultra Magnus would restore him back to his former glory and everything would be all right. Eagerly, he fished the dark crystal out of his subspace. If he didn't know any better, he could swear its glow was even brighter than before, as if it knew its destiny. The energy it gave off was dark and eager. With a shaking hand, Sentinel pried off the support tube connected with Ultra Magnus's spark chamber, revealing the weak and dying light inside. He made a small prayer in the hopes his little gambit would work before he pushed the shard into the spark chamber. Without warning, a pulse of dark energy exploded, throwing the Prime back. He yelped in surprise, hitting the floor.

Ultra Magnus's body jerked and spasmed, his helm thrown back as he silently screamed, the dark energy flooding through him and pouring from his optics and mouth. Sentinel watched, both amazed and horrified as the other howled, black smoke and violet energy bursting from every seam, socket and open orifice. He squinted, trying to see through the black haze, jerking back with a set of violet lights glowered balefully from within the murk. "Uhh...Ultra Magnus...?" The lights flickered in a blink before there was a scraping of metal and two heavy pedes hit the floor.

The massive Autobot stepped out from the fading cloud of darkness, his colors dull as if he were dead, but the lights in his optics indicated otherwise. The Magnus stared down at him, a wordless, terrible hatred in those optics. "...What did you do..." There seemed to be added static in his vocalizer.

"I...fixed you?" Sentinel squeaked out, balking under Ultra Magnus's intensity. He yelped, throwing his hands up protectively as the other lunged forward, looking ready to strangle him. But a voice outside made the Magnus stall. Ratchet bound into the ship, looking annoyed until he saw Pharma on the floor...and then Ultra Magnus through the doorway leading to the bridge. Casting a brief glance that promised vengeance, the Magnus straightened before he strode towards the medic with a confident, healthy gait.

"..." Ratchet shot Sentinel a glance as well, one full of questions and accusations before he looked up warily at what he hoped was Ultra Magnus. "Sir...?"

"Yes." The Magnus answered simply.

"Y-You-...!" The old medic looked around him again, towards Sentinel, part of him wanting to tear into him. He sputtered, looking down at Pharma with concern, then back to Magnus. Seeing as Ratchet's processor was having a hard time catching up to what was happening, Ultra Magnus shifted around him to exit the ship. Optimus was just arriving with his team as he descended the ramp, answering Pharma's call as quickly as they could.

"Aw man, he went and did it..." Bumblebee whined, transforming and brandishing his stingers in preparation of a fight.

Optimus couldn't find the words. Sentinel had done some foolish things in the past, but this was probably his crowning achievement. He was less than pleased with himself also, never failing to underestimate the terrible lengths Sentinel would go to for his own benefit. He smothered his rage and disappointment at the both of them for the moment as he mentally braced himself for a fight with a feral Ultra Magnus of all things. However, this mech didn't exactly scream 'I'm going to rip your faceplate off' quite like Huffer had. In fact, he moved with a cold and quiet calm, seeming almost normal. Almost. Optimus knew it was a bit much to be hopeful, but he took that leap of faith anyway. "...Ultra Magnus?"

"Yes. I am...alive. I'm funtioning. I assume that is where some of the confusion is coming from...Now is there a reason your men are aiming their weapons at me?" The towering mech gave him a bored look.

"Uhh..." It was hard not to gawk as he waved his hand absently at Bumblebee and Bulkhead for them to stand down. He didn't want to take on the Magnus in a fight if it could be helped. "I...don't understand?"

"Well there is not much to understand." Ultra Magnus sighed. "Arrest Sentinel Prime on the charges of unauthorized and illicit medical practice as well as assault on a medical officer and I assume insubordination on some level. Now where is my hammer?"

"A-Alpha Trion has it. He's...been interim Magnus."

"Is there a reason Sentinel was not?"

"He was...But he was demoted to my position and I was promoted to his?"

Ultra Magnus glanced skyward, some part of his processor catching up and remembering the young Prime telling him all of this at some point. He vaguely recalled mixed feelings on the matter : pride in Optimus proving him wrong, disappointment in Sentinel for his unmitigated foolishness. "Ah. Yes. Conspiring with the enemy and endangering the populace to further his own ends and whatnot. Add those to the list of charges then, and have him sent to Trypticon." The Autobots looked at each other in confusion. "Are you having a hard time processing my orders and the charges in question?"

"No..." Optimus began uneasily. "But..."

"I had best not hear 'But Alpha Trion didn't-' because I am not Alpha Trion. Now if you are having a hard time carrying out my orders, I can always have you locked in the stockades as well and find a new Second." He strode briskly past them with every intention of finding the Council leader and reclaiming his hammer, leaving the flabbergasted crew to follow their orders.

"Well. Sucks for Sentinel, I guess?" Bumblebee frowned.

Taking a deep vent with his optics off for a moment, Optimus braced himself for the excuses and the bartering that was about to come his way. He hurried onto Omega Supreme, frowning when he spotted Ratchet picking Pharma up off the floor. "Is he all right?"

"Slag no." Ratchet sneered. "That son of a glitch did a number on him. Outta my way!"

The Prime quickly sidestepped out of the way as his old friend rushed the other medic out. Optimus turned to see Sentinel dusting himself off, looking smug but shaken. "Sentinel..."

"Hmph. And you said it was a bad idea...But look! He's back on his feet in one piece like nothing happened!" Sentinel boasted triumphantly.

"Yeah, and now I have to arrest you..." Optimus moved quickly, grabbing his old friend's wrist and twisting his arm around his back. Moving as fast as he did helped catch the other Prime unawares. He clamped the other half of the cuffs to restrain him. "And I don't want to hear it-"

"Well, you're gonna! I'm the hero here, I saved Ultra Magnus!" Sentinel squawked indignantly, trying to squirm free. He hated the insufferable things when he wound up in them. "On what fragging charges did you yank out of your aft?!"

"Ultra Magnus laid out half a dozen and if you're lucky, that's all you'll get. Now-HEY! No kicking!" It was tempting to pop Sentinel in his over-sized chin when the other tried to kick back at his knee. With a grunt, he pushed Sentinel towards the exit with some effort, passing him to Bulkhead who picked him up without effort under his arms. Optimus huffed, his comm-link with the Council flaring to life. 'Great, guess Ultra Magnus went and got his hammer...'

~+~

"...It was super creepy, like the creepiest thing since I saw the space barnacles. He's like, a corpse that's just walkin' around without a care-Well, except he basically brought down the hammer on Sentinel. Like wham!" Bumblebee prattled on during one of his routine check-ins on the Decepticon, tasked mainly with verifying whether Blitzwing had taken the offer or not. But the triple changer always managed to get him distracted with something else, as if he was adverse to discussing the matter. And naturally Bumblebee always took the opportunity to chat. "He would not stop kicking and screaming when we took him in too! He just couldn't believe that blew up in his face!"

Blitzwing listened with interest. The news of Ultra Magnus was alarming, disturbing really. None of the injured or dead Decepticons they had tested Dark Energon with had reacted in such a way. "Zhis...may be very bad, Bumblebee."

"You think so?" The minibot arched an optical ridge at him.

"Jes. Zhe ozhers vere speaking of it." He paused, uncertain if what he was about to tell the small Autobot would not shoot him in the foot later. "Oil Slick told zhat arrogant Sentinel Prime about it vizh zhe intent to sow chaos. Zhey hoped if I vas free vhen zhat happened, zhen I could use it to our advantage und release zhem."

The shock on Bumbebee's face wasn't surprising, nor was the anger that followed soon after. But then the Autobot gave him a puzzled look. "Why...would you tell me that? You know that looks bad. Right?"

"JA, UND IT SHOULD LOOK GOOD I TOLD YOU!"

"Well, it does...But still, why would you tell me that?"

It was a fair question and one Blitzwing wasn't entirely sure about. Bumblebee's visits were rapidly proving to be the only blessing he had in this pit. The minibot's lively energy was infectious, his banter fun and welcome. In all actuality, it was even a refreshing change from dealing with his brethren on a normal basis. Things were always so quiet and brooding, there were hardly any Decepticons of a happy-go-lucky nature. Not anymore anyway. This...This was different and he found himself liking it. It almost felt normal. The triple changer grinned wide, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know~!" He replied in a sing song voice.

"Okay..." Bumbebee eyed the Decepticon carefully. According to Springer, the prison's warden, Blitzwing always seemed to perk up the most when he knew the minibot would be coming. Otherwise the Decepticon was always rambling to himself and trying to rile up the others like Lugnut. Clearly he was in need of social interaction, so it was a little surprising that he had yet to give them a proper answer. "So...Are you gonna join us? Optimus is thinking of letting me take charge of my own team and I could see if he'll let you be on mine! The Bee Team, eh?"

"Ooh, zhat vould be zo fun!" Blitzwing brightened with delight. But then he balked, turning cold and stoic. "But I vill not be a slave again. How am I to know zhat von't happen?"

Bumblebee goggled at him, wondering where he got that impression from, let alone what he meant when he said 'again'. "I'm not...That's not gonna happen. And how were you a slave before?"

"I am not a joungling like jourself, Bumblebee. I vas part of zhe gladitorial circuitz before zhe Great Var, und not oblingingly. Clench vaz a slagbag und vhen Megatron killed him, he took over zhe arena und recruited us to zhe cause. I don't know vhat jou Autobotz vill do vith me if I surrender proper like zhat...But I do know vhat zhe Decepticons vill do if I defect." It was foolish to let a fear of the unknown bother him, but things were uncertain now. He wanted freedom, but under the thumb of the Autobots, would it really be freedom? "Und zhis thing vizh Ultra Magnus...is diszconcerting. How do I know he vill honor vhat Alpha Trion has offered?"

That had not been something the minibot considered and it showed on his faceplate. "Um, slag...I didn't think of that. He went and slammed Sentinel despite how lenient Trion was. I'm not sure he even knows this offer's on the table..." He frowned as the other suddenly looked despondent. "But I'll make sure he knows and I'll be up his aft if he changes his mind." Bumblebee grinned with determination.

Blitzwing tilted his head, regarding the minibot thoughtfully. He recognized that look from battle, having seen it plenty of times. Glancing out towards his comrades, he eyed Strika and the Stunticons, thinking of Lugnut and Shockwave and Scalpel. No one was going anywhere any time soon and maybe he was weary of the same old, same old. He'd been doing the same thing for millions of stellar cycles and it never quite changed let alone improved. "Mm." The Decepticon hummed to himself. He looked back to Bumbebee. He supposed it would not hurt to row with the flow and see how things panned out. Push come to shove, he could flee at the first opportunity. "If Ultra Magnus says jes und it is vizh jou, zhen I vill join."

It was oddly satisfying to see the ecstatic look on the small Autobot's face, especially knowing he was the cause of the jubilation. Bumblebee jumped to his feet. "I'll go see him right now then! The sooner the better, right??"

"Ja. Zhe sooner zhe better..."

~+~

Pharma woke to a terrible processor ache and a change of scenery, finding himself in the medical bay of Metroplex. "Oh..." He grimaced as his chevron throbbed in an unwelcome manner. Initially, he was uncertain why his head hurt until his memories caught up to him. "That...insufferable slagger...I'm going to dump Nuke in his energon..." He snarled.

"Pretty sure that's illegal, kiddo." A surly voice warned.

"Pretty sure assault is too..." Pharma's pale optics lit up, looking at the source of the voice fondly in spite of his helm ache. "Please tell me you avenged me."

The old medic grimaced, not at his former student's berth room eyes because he learned a long time ago there was no turning it off but at what had transpired back on Omega's bridge. "Not...necessarily. But Ultra Magnus basically threw everything and the wash rack sink in the way of charges at him. He won't even permit anyone to see Sentinel, which has Optimus a little ruffled. Overall things have been...unpleasant." Ratchet stepped over to the berth the jet occupied, taking his chin to turn his head in order to examine the healed damage.

Naturally, Pharma soaked up the closeness and attention, relishing the touch however professional it was. He frowned with concern though. "So...It worked? Or not quite the way he hoped?"

"I ain't gonna lie...I dunno what to make of it. Ultra Magnus won't submit to a proper examination, he's keeping medics and scientists at a fair distance...but any readings I try from a distance he doesn't get puffy over tell me there's a spark readin' but his systems ain't runnin'. Like none of 'em are, outside of processor activity anyway."

"That doesn't make any sense..."

"Naw, it don't. And it bugs the scrap out of me. He ain't actin' entirely right either. It's nothin' severe, but he seems a lot colder, harsher. Pretty damn uncooperative all around. He won't answer the High Council for nothin' and Optimus has to go huntin' anytime he needs to speak with him." Ratchet sighed, letting go of his chin. "Yer cockpit and yer chevron got some nasty cracks, yer nose got a touch crushed and ya took some dents. All patched and adjusted. How do you feel?"

"Processor ache, and a bit of vertigo if I turn my helm a little fast...But for the most part, I'm more miffed than anything." Pharma gingerly rubbed at his chevron, feeling where some careful welding had taken place and fresh dried paint covered the smoothed surface. He let out a whine, mentally kicking himself. "...I cannot believe I failed so monumentally."

Ratchet scoffed gently. "Not yer fault, I have to admit I would have been caught off guard if that slagger attacked me like that too." Optimus hadn't expected his old friend to resort to violence like that, none of them had really. Sentinel could be abrasive, annoyingly so, but he never struck them as actually dangerous. Part of him was glad Ultra Magnus came down on him so hard, mostly because it had been rough seeing the mess he had made of Pharma, just now and even before the incident on Omega. It wouldn't have been as bad if Pharma had still retained his ambulance frame and thus had the bulk to endure the blows. But his frame had been stripped down to fit the specs of the Seekers, an uncomfortable and rough process for an Autobot. The physical traumas of the transformation coupled with the Decepticon coding had made his old friend glitch in the most terrible way. He'd made a mess of Pharma in too many ways now. "Ya shouldn't have let 'im remodel ya, you know..."

"This again?...Sentinel Magnus didn't exactly make it voluntary and Perceptor didn't disagree." It was natural to want to upgrade and make the best even better, but Pharma absolutely loathed Decepticons and hardly wanted to be anything like one. As far as he'd been concerned, he had been perfect. But the Ministry had been insistent and Sentinel had issued orders on the matter, it left him little wiggle room to avoid the procedure unless some time in the stockades would have been preferred. They had tried to use the success of the twins to reassure him, but he suspected their bond helped with the process. "It'll be fine...I'll be fine. The sessions with Rung have been very helpful and enlightening."

The older medic let out a long rumble, still wary but he let the matter drop. Reversing everything would probably leave Pharma completely dysfunctional anyway. "Well, since yer team captain is basically taking an indefinite vacation, that means reassignment. But most of the teams are solid and it'll be a bit before some newbies crop up." Ratchet rubbed the back of his helm. They needed some added help at Trypticon, but he wasn't keen on putting Pharma in a dangerous environment. There weren't many options though and no one wanted an unstable mech on their team. Besides, if he tried to be overprotective, he knew the other mech would raise a stink about his superiority. He could practically hear the 'I can handle anything you can do and thensome'.

"You have that look where you have some bad news you don't want to spill..." Pharma squinted, the corner of his mouth quirked up smugly.

The corner of Ratchet's mouth twitched. The pretty little fragger was good at reading him. "Eh...They can use a medic over at Trypticon." There it was.

The jet blew out a deep sigh, exasperated. "Lovely. Just lovely."

#transformers #transformers animated #optimus prime #megatron #ultra magnus #sentinel prime #blitzwing #bumblebee #jazz #prowl #pharma #ratchet #fanfiction #au