Chapter Text
The team has received a distress call from the Magnus, while on planetary patrol. Megatron has shown his interest in a nearby colony, making an attack on the minibot inhabited colony of Cybertron.
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“ Finally some action around here! Can’t believe I’d be happy to hear about a distress signal on cybertron of all places, honestly!” Bumblebee couldn’t hold his pent up energy, talking and skipping around the Orion’s control deck.
“ Not just any signal, Bee. A special aid request, by the colony minister himself to us, saviours of Cybertron.” Prowl, leaned backward on the control panel chair, stoic expression giving away to the smugness of their acquired team status.
“ Alright, kids no need to get all high and mighty. Figured we’ve already gotten a pride overdose from our ‘ex-Magnus’, eugh.” Groaned Ratchet, rolling his eyes at the mention of the disaster that was Sentinel’s temporary rule.
“ Come on Ratch, we have to celebrate our victories one way or another.” Optimus said, looking over his lively team contently from the main console. It never felt more right sitting there in the main seat, he truly felt like a prime, proud of the mechs beside him that he got to know through the pits and back.
While the political nonsense that was Megatron's escape and sentinel’s coercion took place, they got Prowl back. Team prime was truly at a peak.
It took some time to un-mourn Prowl, now that the allspark ‘spat him out’ eventually. It was weird having him back so unceremoniously, although they would all be lying if they all didn’t make a pathetic mess of a reunion.
‘ So many tears.’ The prime recalled, chuckling to himself. Well, now he had a heartwarming idea for a ‘toast’ as Sari called it. Apparently they’re the familial vows exchanged during the ingestion of highgrade, weird, but again aren’t all good things weird at first?
They were almost at the colony that needed aid from defending against Megatron’s high command.
“ Heh, Doc’s got a point. We are technically celebrating our victory at just another battlefield, with Megatron too I guess.” Bulkhead laughed from where he sat at the further end of the controls.
“ His designation makes energon go bad, hope you manage to preach a punch to his faceplate this time, Prime.” Ratchet stood up, giving his old shoulders a quick spin.
“ Even better, you should choke him to death. Death by ventilation shutdown is the most effectively used prolonged torture method for war-criminals.”
Everyone stared at Prowl.
“ What? We all want him dead.” Then, positive muttering followed, making the ninjabot optics crease upward.
“ Alright, we can bicker all about torture when we get some actual high-grade. Gather at the main gate everyone, we’re about to land.” The leader announced.
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The air was heavy and musky, mechs would thank the colony’s climate for staying constant, that helped cybertron establish a more than successful trade point. Unfortunately that also made it quite the tempting target for the decepticons nearby.
It was quite foggy, not too much, but a strain for the optics. Soon a minibot’s silhouette appeared out of the fog.
“ Thank Primus, you’ve arrived, dear high command! Where is Optimus Prime?!?” The short white minibot demanded, by the segmented mustache-plate and the pristinely painted gold engravings it must be the minister himself.
“ Team prime, at your service minister Juggerbolt! I am the leading prime you have requested Ultra Magnus send. Where are the decepticons?”
The minibot’s faceplate darkened as he looked around the fog left to right. He waved the prime closer to whisper into his finial, the latter kneeling down to meet the tiny mech.
“ The rocks. I think they’re using the temporary fog tide to creep around.”
“ You’re saying they’re pretending to be rocks?!?” Bee butted in between the Prime and minister.
“ SHHHHHHH!!!! YOU’LL ALERT THEM ALL!!” The minibot panicked
A null ray shot through the fog, creating a clearing path. They could hear multiple snickering sounds from the dense fog. Judging by how close the shot was to blasting both loud minibot’s, they’re coming.
|| Alright autobots, roll out and neutralise the cons! ||
|| Ratchet keep an eye on the minister and check for injuries! Prowl help bee with the seekers! Bee, watch his back in case Lugnut and his conjux show up for trouble. Bulkhead, I want you to figure out how to get rid of this fog, help out Prowl and Bee if they require more assistance ||
|| Roger that! ||
|| You go Optimus! ||
|| be careful! ||
The comms were open, and the battle had started. Optimus could hear screeching and grunts from behind as he sped off through the fog of the colony. They all knew he was heading for the slagger himself, and he knows damn well the other will do so, if he isn’t already.
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The soil under his pedes crunched as he approached a nearby sea, full of large rock formations littering the area, if he went any further he would get his pedes wet. Not optimal for battle, he decided to run in the other direction to find the leader of the Decepticons.
“ We meet again, little prime.” The slagger’s voice rumbled through the stillness, as if on cue to accompany the worst possible conditions for a fair battle.
“ Megatron, wouldn’t say I’m surprised that after this planet greets me with wet muck on my pedes, your heavy presence comes with.” He kicked a rock away to the direction of the water, a metallic thud resonating from the water.
“ How sweet of you, Prime, some friendly advice. If a busy warlord like myself graces you ever again, you should make sure to muster up a more educated response in that tiny processor of yours.”
Optimus came closer to the rocky shore, from where the voice seemed to stem “ Oh, goodie! Luckily I don’t seem to be graced by your ugly faceplate in this lovely weather you chose for your another meddling pajama party with the seekers! “ The prime waved the fog away with his servos, the warlord’s shape barely visible in the fog.
“ You couldn’t dream to afford the luxuries the decepticon posses, hm good to know you’ve learned some big words while I’ve been away.” He glowered in amusement. The towering silhouette nearby. Prime prepared to draw out his axe.
“ Yeah, I learned a lot didn’t I ? Especially now, that the allspark is recovered, and back, with, the, autobots! Oh? I’m sorry I guess even an uneducated mechling like me can see that!!!” He bit back as a reply, enjoying how the figure lowered closer to his helm to be within his hearing range.
“ Careful with your glossa, little mech. Wouldn’t want to ruin that brittle frame of yours, do you?” He whispered, the warframe engine revving threateningly. The heavy air attained a hint of ozone.
“ Hit a stray cable ? I should have guessed the allspark was a…. Touchy subject for you, Megatron.” Optimus pretended to hum thoughtfully, he immediately slashed at the leaning figure. Only for it to be stone. The missed shot echoed through the air in mockery.
A deep wicked laughter echoed through the clearing, which sent a shiver down the blue and red mech.
“ Hmm, touché?” The warlord purred, Optimus’s sense of direction blurring and overlapping as his tactical unit went haywire. He promptly shut his optics, focusing on the echo.
The slagger wasn’t attacking. That meant only one thing, he was waiting for an opportunity to tackle him, or the opportunity to wait until Optimus himself came close enough for his blades to reach. Using a canon in the area could trigger the debris to complicate the fight.
What now? The prime thought of an idea. He tucked his axe into his subspace. Turning off his headlights and becoming one with the fog. He used his servos to feel, and the lower programming to guide him. His olfactory senses helped avoid going deeper into the water, the water smelt like diluted tar, which meant Megatron was somewhere between the shore and the water.
What Megatron didn’t have were a pair of sensitive finials, which made tracking mechs easier. Soon he located the slagger. Shooting out his grapple he caught on to the midsection of his chassis, the surprised look on the warlord was more than a reward to sate the effort.
Both were blocking and swinging their blades, from hit to hit, from close call to a near strike. They were evenly matched,— Megatron’s fury and precision, and Optimus’s adaptability and creative ways to one up the slagger.
The deafening clang of their weapons spoke more of volumes than words. Both mechs were silent as a show of focus and the sheer amount of power it took to take and answer each other’s call in the fog.
However, what Megatron had over Optimus was where they were headed, as while they both seemed to be entranced by each other's swings, the warlord gradually moved them closer to the sea level, getting the prime knee into the waters before he could notice.
And with a delayed motion from the inexperienced repair-bot, a single precise servo swipe was enough to send the axe flying to Primus knows where into the fog.
“ End of the line, dear Prime.” Megatron’s twin blade speared clean into his pede. Optimus shrieked in pain, adrenaline rushing to his processor in a blazing wave. His battle systems screamed, he had no axe.
He was going to die.
However an idea in the form of one out the two twin swords lodged in him at the very moment. As his servos reached for the stuck blade, its unoccupied brother swiped a close one to his neck cabling. Optimus barely dodged the precise strike, the sword barely grazing his main fuel line before stabbing into the ground.
How is he supposed to buy more time to get the blade out? He’s got seconds before Megatron gets another swing at the speared civilian. What advantage could he possibly have compared to any other soldier who fell at the servos of Lord Megatron of the Decepticons?
An Earth alt-mode!
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Megatron’s optics widened in confusion as his helm was splashed with thick foam of a firetruck. The war frame leaned away, viciously swiping the foam with his elbow.
Optimus smiled, the distraction was so simple, and yet saved his skidplates from being impaled on both ends. Small servos were quick to start digging into the space between the grey mech’s servo and the jammed blade.
Seeing how the slagger’s hand convulsed as he leapt backward, he fully gained hold of the sword’s hilt. However he paused, before applying any force.
Could he really pull the whole length out in one go?
“ First time handling a blade?” The decepticon laughed, cocking his optic ridge in newfound amusement in the Prime’s hesitation.
“I’VE SEEN BIGGER !!!” The latter screeched in determination as he dragged the blade out of his knee strut.
He had a weapon.
His battle protocols calmed somewhat from the incomprehensible mess it was, as Megatron’s snarl fell from his faceplates.
The slagger clapped, injured hand recoiling at each reverberation. However, all his attention was on the Prime.
“ Each passing cycle, the thought of your surrender seems sweeter than high-grade. The day I tear that mask the autobots have bound your true face in, is what I dream of. You will be mine, Optimus Prime.” He rumbled, small smile predatory, and terrifying in a genuine promise.
“ That cycle will never come, Megatron. For as long as I am online I’ll keep on fighting. Even when I’ve lost everything I fight for, everything I am. I will never forget- I’ll never move away, and I’ll always be the one to defy you, bucket-head piece of burning SLAG! ILL TEAR YOU TO PIECES!!” He roared, every glyph burning off his spite-filled glossa.
The clashes of their weaponry reverbed through the fogged shore. The mechs were gaining equal footing, as Optimus got a good hit on the slagger’s leg.
Now they were truly evenly matched. Fighting in this fog, blade in hand, pede by pede. And soon the blades were gone in the heat of battle, and so was the pain.
Their fights have always been a spectacle for the mechs who got the fortune of laying witness, and a guilty high for the two mechs even syk couldn’t provide. Though none of them would come to admit that yet.
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However, soon their fight came to a standstill, and their bodies showed signs of wear, as a consequence of that high.
Optimus' knees dug into Megatron’s chassis, as the gunmetal mech was pinned down on the wet ground, his helm’s back half submerged into the dark waters, moisture droplets littering their frames.
However the prime could barely hold off the razor sharp servos from lunging at his neck, holding them off with both servos. Doing his best to wrestle the claws away, while his own grip was starting to slip. Both their engines were overtaxed, and energon levels at a dangerous low.
How long was it already? Were their teams okay?
Both leaders asked the same question in their head.
Megatron needed backup, he commed Strika and Lugnut, who were the only ones to respond to the comm request. He internally rolled his optics as he relieved the news of their retreat. Another loss for the decepticons, maybe digging Starscream's head into the Nemesis’s curb would bring some relief. The lord requested to be picked up by the pair.
His snarl turned into a cruel smirk, as he saw the little Prime above him struggle. He could practically see his optics phase in and out of consciousness, the primes colourful plating smeared by the dirty waters of this colony.
Who cared about stealing whatever that they were going to do, he didn’t see the value in their raid at the moment. All he wanted was to tear off the battle mask to see what expression the prime would make.
How his delicate lips would bend into a snarl, perhaps curling into an ‘o’ shape when shocked, or how would they wobble when he finally takes a jab at his annoyingly sincere ‘autobot’ directive.
His heated thought line was soon interrupted by a heavy pair of pedesteps close by.
‘They can’t see me, can they?’ The decepticon figured, sighing that they had to end their failed escapade.
“ LUGNUT, STRIKA, ASSIST ME AT ONC- “
Optimus recoiled as he saw two warframe silhouettes come closer. He was once again at a disadvantage, what was he supposed to do? He wasn’t anywhere near proper battle condition, he’ll pass out into stasis lock any minute now. If Megatron’s backup comes by, he’ll be at their mercy.
What could he do???? His optics darted over their frame predicament, he did what he could out of what he could work with, and probably out of the dwindling energon in his processor.
With half a thought he slid higher on the warlord, and swung his pedes around his neck cables. He had to shut the slagger up, so he gripped the neck cables with his tibulens with all his might.
Megatron gargled as he choked from the crushing force of the prime on his neck cables. At the same time his HUD noted his fuel levels reaching a critical low.
The prime was playing dirty, Megatron’s choked coughs turned into soundless laughter. He couldn’t make a sound now. However, who said it was he who needed to shout?
Optimus held onto Megatron’s neck for dear life, as the silhouettes came closer to their vicinity. The two lieutenants shouted Megatron’s designation to find him in the fog, Optimus’s spark could break out of its casing any moment at the amount of fear in his fuel lines. All fog, and not a single Autobot visible.
“ Gah-!” He gasped, grasp on Megatron’s claws, wavering for a split second. As he took a deep breath, the prime turned his head downward.
“ YOU- slagger you- you- what in the name of the pits are you doing?” Optimus bit out as quietly as he could. Suddenly he remembered he was currently choking the emperor, giving him a slow death, via thigh plate pressure, which was why the mech didn’t answer, as well why he bit into him.
Optimus harshly exhaled as the mech under him relaxed his jaw, a fresh wound slowly leaking energon as he removed his dentae from his right thigh.
What seemed to be Lugnut, approached the shore.
Optimus shivered, the blue and red mech finally caught on to Megatron’s little plan.
‘ Think you can make me out myself?I can wait until your ventilation systems can’t filter water anymore, and your grey frame becomes even greyer!’ He whisper-shouted at the grinning idiot, who was literally being choked. There was something about a new glint in his red optics, that Optimus couldn’t read. He didn’t like that at all.
The next bite was on his lower left tibulen, near his knee strut, ‘ it wasn’t that bad’ the prime thought, somehow relieved. However Megatron’s tongue lingered on the wound, lapping up the energon with renewed fervour. Optimus could only bite his lip, behind his battle mask, as he held in a pained grunt.
Lugnut’s step paused as he scanned the area with his flickering optics, likely damaged since he didn’t see the two’s half submerged predicament.
Optimus tried to comm anyone within their range, however none of his contacts were popping up on his dimmed HUD. They were out of range.
‘ Think logically Optimus, now that Strika and Lugnut are…somewhere here. Away from the battlefield, what does this mean? And Megatron- don’t. Look. Okay, now that Megatron called for backup, this probably means the cons will retreat as usual. ‘
The prime’s next vent rattled, new bite, closer to his hips.
He didn’t look down,
‘I wonder if Bulkhead got the fog solution, but right now I need the fog, as inconvenient as it is.’ He tracked back in his thoughts. ‘ How do I explain this to Ratchet-?’
An audible ‘suck’ echoed through the cloudy shore.
“ Ngh-! mmm…” his hips bucked towards the warm wetness of the rough derma, as the mech started using his lips to suck out more energon out of the gouge. His engine’s rev muted out the keen which momentarily slipped from his blue lip, the sharp-ridged tongue plunged deeper into the wound, spreading the gash open from the inside, drawing out more energon. Optimus’s hips slipped further out of control for a moment, before thrashing back into place, further away from the lingering glossa.
Pent up charge practically flew from his faceplate, his HUD flooded with requests to activate the fuming interface drive. Megatron craned his neck to stare at the debauched painting that was Optimus, the mech smacked his derma, as a string of energon broke away the fanged grin. He practically spelt the word:
‘S-H-A-R-E-W-A-R-E’
Optimus unlocked his mask for a split second, delighting the lord. The slagger immediately took endless snapshots of the prime’s tear stained faceplate. The way coolant clinged to the soft faceplate, glistening subtly only from the sheer brightness of those furious blue optics. The way those moist lips puckered when the prime viciously spat at him.
When the little prime finally realised what he did was hike the gunmetal menace’s charge even more, it was a bashful mess of flush. The prime has never looked so close to crying from embarrassment.
His thrashing caused Lugnut to stir from afar.
“ MY LORD ARE YOU HERE?!?”
The prime’s interface module was offline, which meant he didn’t have to worry about his panels getting in the way of battle, but charge could still build up, which meant charge could explode one way or another. And his attempt at ‘stopping megatron’s’ biting made things worse.
‘Death by charge, Megatron. I should have expected it from a decepticon like him.’ Optimus turned his head away, hiding his already covered expression. It was panic, laced heavily with arousal, which turned painful by the minute. Somehow he felt bare like never before in his functioning under the burning red gaze of the emperor, even while his armour was on.
He shivered, it was cold in this sea. Everything ached, his body from the overtaxing fight, his head from the ticking fuel timer that will put him into stasis lock any minute now, and now he feels dirty and warm. With Megatron feasting on his thighs like an energon buffet, while both of them are battered and drenched in the tar-like substance. His pedes felt weak like never before, and his servo-joints like they could snap at a single tug.
“ Lugnut, you called? Have you found our lord here?” Strika’s voice boomed in authority, as she entered the shore.
“ YES, I THINK HE IS SOMEWHERE IN THIS WATERY AREA OF THE COLONY.” The pair stalked around the cobble of the area.
He wanted to just collapse right there.
But he couldn’t stop there, he couldn’t stop because of Megatron acting like Megatron. He had a duty to fulfil, and it doesn’t matter if the slagger made it weird, feeding off his lower lines like a vermin, he couldn’t let this be the end of Optimus Prime.
So bobbing his head from side to side to regain focus, he returned to fully choking Megatron full force, feeling fully back into his frame. So he readjusted his battered tibulens and dug into the neck cables like a proper prime.
He rolled with the punches, or the bites currently. Who cares how many there were? All that mattered was he had to hold him down. He had to keep his servos up, and most importantly he had to stay silent.
“ Hahh..” He stayed calm as the bites continued to litter his frame, no doubt adorning all his silver finish by now.
His new strategy was to close his optics, and turn off his HUD, as long as he only kept his signal on he could save enough fuel to last longer and still be detected by his teammates. Plus he didn’t need to see the slagger sucking on his energon directly, the mere thought of seeing that in person could trigger an overheat shutdown immediately. So he clamped down on himself and listened for any signs of Megatron’s lieutenants nearby.
“ Gnrg-!” He felt the old gouges scrape along the mech’s glossa. It awoke a stinging feeling along his frame, that muted into a soft wet numbness.
“ Did you hear that?” Strika’s voice came closer to their area.
“ Ah-?!” Optimus squealed as he felt a wet kiss, on his modesty panel. His optics shot open, Megatron looked at him with a weird expression. One of fondness?
Pity.
“ THINK I HEARD IT OVER THERE!”
He could practically bite his lip off by the force of his anger for the slagger. ‘No noise. No noise.’ The prime prayed in his head, over and over again. Charge stacked, buzzing through his lines and no doubt boiling over to the panels.
There was no doubt any longer, the heavy pedesteps were aimed their way.
Optimus looked down at the grey mech, while he did look even more intimidating with a grinning face full of his energon, the red of his optics did progressively dim compared to when the battle started. Warframes do tend to require more fuel, plus he’s been warming the mech neck long enough.
‘It’s now or never!’
He took his shot, letting go of the large neck cables. Before the slagger could react he was hit by a panel in the faceplate. A wet clank resonating through the atmosphere.
“ My lord? Are you okay?”
Optimus wobbly regained his footing, injured pede bending inward and snapping loudly. His vents raced.
Strika and Lugnut came fully into vision, battered and bruised, but still standing, and armed.
“ MY LORD!”
As soon as Optimus saw a short silhouette in the fog, he shot out both his grapples, zooming away to the nearest civilian frame, anywhere that was better than being cornered by 3 warframes with less a pede.
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He felt his pounding helm concuss with a familiar red chassis. His battle mask snapped off from the impact.
“ Ra- Ratchet!!!” He whined pitifully, as he gripped the medic closer, embracing him fully. Unceremoniously coughing energon in the poor mech’s faceplate as he tried to thank him, trembling from the cold tar covering his frame. No doubt disgusting.
“ EUGh- kid?!? What the frag happened!”
Optimus let himself freefall as multiple servos came to catch him. He heard multiple murmurs, all around him. They enveloped him like a pain-number patch. He groaned in relief, as the prime went lax in someone’s grip.
However before he could pass out from stasis, he recognised the sharp claws grazing his grill.
“ Megatron..?”
The warlord held him in his arms, laughter booming through the clear air. The fog has settled. The bleeding prime quivering away, to no avail. Upon clear sight the murmurs were shouts, autobots and decepticon unveiled. Though, what really stuck out wrong was the lack of blaster shots, or any clangs of metal.
“Megatron! Give the Prime back!”
Megatron licked off the autobot’s stains left from his faceplate, energon levels stabilised. His commanding voice playfully rolled off, as he waved off the medic like a carrier to a misbehaving sparklet.
“ Ah, ah, ah. I’ve made my decision, and he needs to hear it from my own two derma.” A shiver went down Optimus’s spinal cord, as the mech’s derma grazed his finial.
“ I, Megatron of Tarn, emperor of the decepticon empire, have pleaded the 69th decepticon decree. I think it’s about time we’ve settled the fate of cybertron our way.”
Megatron clutched the prime square into his battered chassis, as he shouted to his people.
“Decepticons! We have found our gambit!”
“ May the preparations for the ultimate gamble for cybertron begin! “
“ Interface!”
“ Interface!”
“ All hail our lord!”
The crowd of cons chanted, as they ran in circles, some even dancing in grouping circles. Megatron tapped along the joyful howl, spinning the held prime to the beat as if they were waltzing. Lugnut and Strika even started decorating the clear sky with their lord’s designation.
Optimus felt like he died, and this was purgatory.
‘ I-I’ve offlined. I’ve offlined- and this is hell.’ He groaned loudly, his optics flickering dangerously in indication of a final stasis countdown. Helm falling limp in the warlord’s bloody servos.
“ Ah, my dear. I have drained you dry haven’t I? Forgive an old mech his kinks. Alas, it is time for us to part.” The large mech mirthly cooed, stopping the one-sided dance.
“ A little low energon hysteria episode, adorable. Feed him at once, oh and send the Magnus my regards, the autobots will need them.”
Uncharacteristically for Megatron, he carefully handed prime back to Ratchet, who immediately ran into the Orion with the rest of his team. Optimus caught a glimpse of the full scope of the colony without its fog: it was chaotic, while the cons did… whatever they were doing, the colony folk didn’t attack the decepticon, rather a large crowd of civilians almost followed them onboard the ship. Layers and layers of muttering on shouting incomprehensible for his tired systems.
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The chill bed of the medbay was the only thing he could say felt confident about.
Soon Ratchet’s form scooted over him, armed with the tools necessary. His faceplate was scrunched, like he did before screaming at a decepticon. Optimus wondered what he looked at, as he himself couldn’t tell.
His body felt like a pressure coil, if he focused on anything other than breathing he’d explode.
The prime focused his optics on the medbay door as the rest of his team sprinted into the room, which immediately triggered Ratchet’s ire.
“ YOU IDIOTS !!! knock for the love of- whatever just be quiet.” The medic hissed, immediately collecting himself to treat the prime, tools clicking and burning the wounds closed after applying the numbness patch.
“-just breathe. All you need to do is vent.” He murmured, covering the prime’s finials with a soft mesh coat. The medi-bot let an amused smile overtake him as the prime took in the comfort of the small blanket, feeling somewhat maternal. Though the medic snapped back to work, ‘ I’m not a carrier bot for Primus’s sake. Treat the kid, Ratchet, come on.’ He scolded himself internally, yet still briefly petting the blue helm of the young mech.
Prowl, Bee and Bulkhead loomed over the single medbay berth as occasional flickers or light made them twitch in nervous anticipation.
“ Get me some med-grade, stat.” He pointed with his free hand. Prowl swiftly took out a small med-grade cube, lifting it to Ratchet’s intake.
“ No- no not me, feed the prime!” He shook off the servo, further hunching at the exposed circuitry.
Soon bumblebee timidly approached him with the cube.
Optimus looked desperate as he gulped down the whole cube in a couple of gulps. At the moment it tasted better than the most prestigious high-grade he’s had the fortune of trying, but that’s probably his starved processor speaking.
“ So um, bossbot-“ The cadet began before being interrupted by a query by Prowl.
“ Ratchet, what’s the 69th amendment?”
“ You’re asking cuz I'm the oldest mech in the room aren’t ya?” Getting a guilty shrug from the ninjabot, all optics were on him.
“ You see you all know about how the decepticon decree was signed, you all got your school bitlet certificate?”
All nodded unanimously.
“ T-he- I was-s aren’t there o-onl- ly- ly- “ Optimus tried to speak out, his voice box however fritzed out of control, the voice cutting in and out uncontrollably. Sparks started flying out of his stray cabling, burning ratchet’s busy servos, making the medic squeal.
“ QUIET. Primus, kid. I said vent. Don’t even think of stressing your processor. The amount of charge running through your frame could actually kill.” He returned to work, poking the mesh areas with his scalpel to avoid getting shocked.
The prime opted to extend his curious EM field.
Bulkhead’s meek voice dared to ask “ Aren’t there only 67 amendments in the decepticon decree? The main reason why the decree was signed was to officially legalize the decepticon faction, to avoid jailing the entire civilian population when things got heated on cybertron long ago. I- If I recall correctly.”
“ Yeah, something like Bulk said.” Bee chimed in, gritting his dentae as his optics wandered to Optimus’s lower midsection.
“ Bulkhead, get some antiseptic cleanser and a rag. This smell, and the tar itself are a health hazard.” The red and white mech fretted.
“ While he gets the prime cleaned up, I’ll keep going. Well, you see these two other amendments were kept a secret from the public, except for the high guard, of course. And I am a battlemedic at the end of the day. And you four got affiliated with the military, a mere cycle ago.” Clearing his throat, Ratchet continued.
“-Yeeesh, and I thought cons cannibalising civilians was a folktale to scare sparklets. Where do I even begin the repairs?” He sighed, tapping his scalpel on the slab.
“ That slagger is crazy!!! He mauled your thighs like a scraplet with a rust-stick !!!” Bumblebee shouted out, covering his intake in indignation. The yellow bot was clearly freaked out by the mess the prime was in.
“ I was too late to remove the fog, I’m sorry Optimus, if I knew that you were almost close offlining in a con filled ditch, I would have tried to be quicker!” Bulkhead nervously fidgeted with a first aid box, no doubt waiting for ratchet to bark out another command for supplies.
The fog was a nuisance, but it did buy him time to save his aft. To reassure Bulkhead, he broadcasted a positive signal through his EM. This was broad, and a really vague way of communicating, but Bulkhead’s uncoiling posture was a good sign.
Prowl’s still visor eyed each gouge, he felt it through the pain patch. Something was going through his head, because his expression was carved out of stone.
“ Ratchet, will he walk?” Bee pointed his hand as he waved around ‘the affected area’.
“ Of course. Main fuel lines weren’t touched, just minor ones, however the motor functions were wholly ruined. He didn’t plan to let you leave, and” the medic inhaled slowly, wiping the same grey spot on Optimus’s sealed pede until his own breaths evened out “ it shows.”
“ What are the two amendments, Ratchet?” Prowl redirected the conversation back.
So, back when warframes were facing heavy censorship and restrictions, the government did not permit freedom of speech strictly. As well as public expression of affection. Punishments were brutal so to say. Those were during the ‘golden ages of cybertron’ supposedly.”
“ In the midst of the decepticons well, rebelling like Bulk said, and then being established, the warframes would only agree for the official decree to be signed only if the Magnus of that time allowed those laws to be included, as compensation for the government abuse of power.”
“ Here’s the worst part.” The medic coughed slightly.
“The hidden amendments were a condition for a game.
A game that could occur once a millennia, where either the current Magnus or the Emperor of each respective faction could select a candidate from the opposite party to participate in the uhh, challenge over cybertron’s possession.”
“ the last amendment, or the 69th amendment was about the game itself, and all decepticon not to be harmed upon the process of the game, and upon entering cybertron and its colonies for the game’s duration.
Megatron has chosen you to compete, as his equal .”
“ So Optimus has to play a game against the slagger? What’s the big deal, they’re already evenly matched. I mean when fighting…fairly.”
“ Bee, I don’t think you get where this is going. Just think, what these two amendments could be about if they’re hidden from the public, and essentially aided sexually repressed slaves.”
“And I'm not just being blunt on the repressed part- “ the black and gold mech dramatically looked away from the assaulted thighs in question.
The bumblebot’s jaw dropped to the floor, as his optics almost shot out upon realisation. He started babbling something incomprehensible, disbelief disorienting his line of thought. After a few thoughtful laps around the medbay, the minibot jumped onto Bulkhead’s shoulder, voice dropping to a barely heard shriek.
They were whispering.
“ INTERFACE GAMES?!?!?” Bulkhead shouted, as Bee shrieked to provide helpful emphasis.
Optimus’s finials shot up from the mesh blanket.
“ INTER-RF WHAA- A A?!!” The prime’s fragmented voice cutted in. Faceplate flush darkening to a bright white. The patient shot up ramrod straight from the slab.
Ratchet dropped his tools, as Prowl threw himself forward over to push the fuming medi-bot away from Optimus’s vicinity.
“ DONT OVERSTIMULATE HIM!!!!!!” The flying pair barked out as the room went white. A collective shout erupted.
Optimus exploded.
Lesson of the day.
Don’t be a horny fool on the battlefield.
( and read the constitution, yeah yeah. You heard me. )