Transformers Fan Fiction ❯ Cover Me ❯ The Cactus and the Cab ( Chapter 2 )

Cover Me

By Black Dragon Queen

Author's Ramblings:

Hello again! Well here it is, chapter two! A big shout out to P.A.W.07 who took the time to wade through the raw, misspelled version of this and give me her opinion on the style! As I have stated before, I know nothing about the G1 characters and I use Wikipedia for any and all of my information:

Transformers . wikia . com / wiki / main Page

A great site for information, just remove the spaces! So please enjoy this latest edition and join me next Monday for chapter three!

Font Index:

“Speaking”

`Thinking'

“-Radio Transmissions-”

“Cybertronion”

Chapter Two: The Cactus and the Cab

The four assorted vehicles were drastically out of place in the center of the desert surrounded by the vast nothingness. Okay, that wasn't true… There was a lone cactus to the left of the top kicker. Something he made sure to tell everyone about as loudly and frequently as possible.

“Why can't I shoot it?” Ironhide demanded again as the four sat there waiting.

“It's a plant, `Hide,” Ratchet drawled. “What'd it do to you?”

“But I need to keep myself in top condition,” Ironhide protested. “How do you expect me to face those slaggin' `Con's if I'm not up to speck?” The large mech paused for a moment as he completely ignoring the look that he knew Ratchet was giving him. “That and it's driving me crazy. It's not symmetrical!”

“Nothing is symmetrical on this planet Ironhide,” Optimus chided. “You should have learned that by now.”

Bumblebee chuckled softly as the larger truck let out an indignant huff and started grumbling on the lowest frequency possible. Not that it really mattered, since they all could still clearly hear his soft curses. It was yet another complaint that the GMC had about this planet's terrain in comparison to Cybertron; nothing here was symmetrical. It was very difficult to keep Ironhide from flattening anything he deemed “unbalanced”.

“Ratchet, projected ETA?” Came Optimus' voice, bringing `Bee out of his thoughts.

“Three hours, twenty seven minutes, Earth time,” Ratchet responded immediately.

`Bee sighed. He hated waiting and wondered if he could do another thirty laps around the makeshift perimeter. Unfortunately, the only thing he had accomplished from the last circuit had been getting Optimus the Cybertronian equivalent of dizzy and yet another threat of death from friendly fire from Ironhide. It wasn't his fault that he couldn't sit still! He was still a youngster! The need to constantly move was ingrained in his hard drive!

The sudden feeling of Ratchet's door pressing against his hood snapped `Bee from his sulking. “-Don't let it get to you,-” the older `Bot sent on a private line. “-Think of this as extra down time.-”

“-The only down time I like is cruising the highways with Sam.-” `Bee huffed.

Ratchet chuckled softly. “-You'll live, `Botling.-”

Bumblebee sighed again and started rolling back and forth on his wheels.

“Bumblebee! Stop that infernal rocking!” Ironhide bellowed crossly.

The yellow Camaro instantly stilled at the threat.

The chuckle resumed, “-Then again…-”

Optimus' deep voice joined the medic's in soft laughter as his backing lights clicked on and he moved between the old soldier and his youngest recruit. “Leave him be `Hide,” the largest truck chided. “It's not the `Bot's fault your apprehensive.”

“Damn it all, Prime,” Ironhide growled, twitching on his tires in irritation, “that signal was so garbled that we don't even know if it was an Autobot! Slag it, if another piece of human space junk crashes, I think my gasket'll blow.”

“You mean it hasn't yet?” `Bee couldn't help but jibe, backing up slightly and getting ready to make some distance between him and the trigger happy `Bot.

“”Bee!” the black truck yelped and the Camaro instantly revved his engine while spinning around to place both Optimus and Ratchet between himself and the homicidal truck.

“That's enough,” Optimus growled, his patience thinning. “'Hide, leave the youngling alone.” A small snicker filled the terrain only to be quickly silenced with a sharp “`Bee!”

`Bee dared pull forward to cast a glance around the EMT unit, acting very much like a disobedient sparkling pouting.

Optimus sighed. After all this time he still fell for the look, be it in his alt form or not. “I know you're restless and we're all tense, but on the off chance that the incoming `mech-”

“IF it's an incoming `mech,” Ironhide griped in the background.

“-could possibly be a Decepticon,” Optimus continued as if his weapon specialist hadn't interrupted him, “then I need us all to be on alert and ready.”

“In other words kid,” Ironhide piped up smugly, “no wheelies!”

`Bee groaned as he moved once again alongside the medic.

“-You'll learn,-” Ratchet told him softly.

`Bee rumbled in annoyance as he found himself rocking on his wheels once more. Ratchet said nothing about his movements however, and this just made `Bee feel slightly guilty for provoking `Hide -not that he wouldn't do it again sometime in the near future but still... Sighing, the yellow `Mech resigned himself to a boring three hours of nothing but Tetris.

It was a long drive through the desert. A long, long, long, drive.

The cab Sam had finally managed to hail reeked of something akin to sour milk, and the driver's fat cigar had donenothing to improve the smell. Trying his best to hold his breath, Sam allowed his head to fall back against the seat and tried to calm his frazzled nerves. The encounter with the Decepticon, or if he understood Barricade's story correctly- former Decepticon, had truly left him shaken. The human had managed to keep a somewhat cool front during the drive within the Saleen police cruiser, but the fact that he had been having what could have been interpreted as a civil conversation with the very mech that had personally tried to kill him was disturbing to say the least.

A deep rut suddenly jarred the cab and startled Sam in to losing his concentration, causing him to accidentally take a breath of the foul air. Groaning, he slapped a hand over his nose and wished once more that `Bee was the one driving. The Autobot at least had the common sense to avoid the ruts in order to preserve his shocks.

The thought of Bumblebee brought back the image of Miles' disappointment at his absence earlier that afternoon which in turn brought about the memory of Miles' shocked look as he drove up in the new, custom yellow Camaro at the beginning of the senior year. He smiled as he recalled how Miles seemed to enjoy riding in `Bee even more that Sam did at times and how he and `Bee were constantly having to indulge the other boy. Miles was always a good friend and never once questioned what had happened to his older model, accepting Sam's story at face value. The cover story for `Bee's new appearance was the quickest lie he could come up with on the spot; he told Miles that he won an upgrade from the government after entering a national essay contest.

Least to say his English teacher was the first one to suspect something was off kilter, but the award signed and sealed from the Pentagon, had proven otherwise. Sam, however, knew the award for what it really was; not as a reward for a fictitious essay but rather for, as Barricade had stated, recognition as the official human liaison between the Cybertronions and humans. Hell, the Autobots were getting their own consulate smack dab in the middle of the desert in the form an old army base that Captain Lennox had remembered helping clean out. Not to mention the customized diplomatic license plates that kept them from being pulled over! Something that came in very handy when he and `Bee were racing to beat his parents curfew, which was still in effect no matter how important Sam had become to the government as the go-between for them and the Autobots.

Sometimes, he wondered if being the first human recruit to the Cybertron war was really the best thing to happen to him. Sure he had gotten to meet the Autobots, more specifically Bumblebee, yet sometimes the whole experience was just so overwhelming that Sam found himself mourning his previous, boring existence. Not that he would trade his current life for his previous one. The loss of the daily swirlies from Trent and his monkey crew were defiantly a plus. As it was, since only a few collective humansknew about the classified secret that was the Autobots everyone had been unsure just whom was suppose to take “responsibility” for the large mechs. It had been Optimus himself that settled the matter when he chose Sam to be their human voice. Bumblebee had puffed with pride at that announcement- like Bumblebee was the one who had been given the honorable, yet depressively massive pressure of dealing with governmental types. Though, Secretary Keller did help out when he could.

In truth, Sam's life had already been charted for him the moment he got in that car. He didn't even have to go to college since no school curriculum in the world could ever hope to begin teaching him the things he needed to know. Though, trying to convince his father of that fact had been fun-not! What his weekend was really going to be was actually History of Cybertron: 101 with Optimus, then a crash course in robotics with Ratchet, which was going to be hell without Mikaela there to help explain things in human terminology; after that, if he still had the brain capacity to think, there was target practice with Ironhide and finally stunt driving lessons with Bumblebee. Sam didn't even want to begin to think about what he went through with Maggie, Glen and occasionally even with Keller. Computers weren't really his forte and he was about as diplomatic as a rock.

On the bright side, he was probably the only high school student in the world that had his own human-sized plasma gun, courtesy of Ironhide and Lennox. The two had collaborated on creating the specially made weapons for the human recruits in anticipation of Decepticon attacks and made sure that everyone who had participated in the defeat of Megatron had their own version. To top it off, this fun toy was accompanied with a very realistic license of shoot to kill, signed off by the Secretary of Defense himself. Only problem was he couldn't very well hit the broad side of a building. Maggie was a better shot than him.

No, Sam's life in its entirety was now solely dedicated to the Autobots and so, in part was Mikaela's, who was training with Ratchet as a Human Autobot Medic. Though, she did have it easier than Sam. She wasn't the one who had to face the President of the United States and explain the Autobots' request for sanctuary for them and any other surviving Autobots out there. Thank God, or rather Primus that Keller and Lennox had been with him for that rather interesting conversation.

Now with the Autobots now granted sanctuary from the president, it seemed that the whole fight against Megatron had gotten everyone a promotion in life. Lennox along with the rest of his surviving platoon had been assigned the task of the Autobots military escort and protection detail, which was quite helpful in dealing with nosy humans. Even his own parents were getting a stipend from the event of their own “arrest” from Sector Seven.

Now, the Sector Seven members weren't so lucky in the department of “promotions in life” thing. In fact, the scattered members of Sector Seven, which it turned out there were quite a few, had gotten a bit of a reprieve although they were still disbanded. None of them were forced to face any prison time since they were simply following orders, although these orders had been issued shortly after his grandfather originally found the “Ice Man”. Instead they had been given pardons and a chance to start anew someplace else-preferably somewhere as far from the Autobots as possible.

Sam was jolted out of his thoughts as the car hit another particularly deep dip and he jerked his seat belt once again to ensure that he was properly strapped in… just in case. A few agonizing moments later, the cab finally slowed down and pulled along the rather large chain link fence that surrounded the empty base and Sam practically fell out of the car in his hurry to cross the foul barrier. He took deep gulps of the non-polluted air, grateful that the ride was finally over.

The cabbie chewed on the end of his cigar as he stared down at the gasping boy. “That'll be two hundred, thirty bucks kid,” he announced.

Shaking the dust off his hands, Sam reached for his backpack and the rather thick envelope he had shoved in his composition book earlier. He was very appreciative when the government had issued special “bank accounts” to the Autobots and, in turn, to their human faction. The idea, Keller had said, was in case emergency supplies were needed, such as car parts or gas or something of that nature. Optimus just hadn't had the heart to explain that most of Earth's technology was still so far behind their own, that the gesture was useless as car parts would do absolutely nothing for their delicate chassis.

Ironhide had liked the free gas idea though.

As Sam counted out the cab driver's substantial bill, the man looked around the barren base before looking back at the young boy sharply. “I don't think anyone is here kid,” the driver said slowly.

Sam glanced up at him before returning to his counting. “I'll be alright, they'll be here.”

The cabbie continued to eye him suspiciously as he chewed on his already mangled cigar stub. “Look kid, if you and your little buddies are planning to loot this place, I'll be the first one to testify if you get caught.”

“Wouldn't expect anything less,” Sam replied as he slapped the amount into the drivers waiting hand. “Keep the change,” he said sharply and turned towards the gate's auto lock, completely dismissing the man's presence.

The sound of rubber kicking up gravel sounded behind him as he punched in his code on the human sized keypad and entered the base. Ensuring that the gate closed behind him, though the barren landscape as far as the eye could see showed that no one would be attacking any time soon, he made his way towards the largest of the four hangers and peeked around the corner. Old boxcars and a makeshift Autobot sized operating table dominated the room, but there were no signs of any movement. Clearly, the Autobots were still investigating the signal.

Sam sighed in disappointment and turned to head towards the old barracks station where he had his own room along with Lennox, Mikaela, and the few other humans who on occasion stopped by; which included a surprise visitation from Keller one night. Sam had liked the man immediately, once they had been properly introduced. During the whole Hoover Dam incident, Sam only had time to take note of the man who was completely out-of-place in a business suit as they fled to Mission City. For a politician, he was a really cool guy who knew the best card games. Even tried to help Sam teach `Bee some of the more advanced games, though the `Bot had trouble keeping himself from counting cards.

With an irritated huff, Sam threw his bag onto his bed and was happy in the knowledge that he wouldn't have to look at the thing for at least two days. Glancing around the room once more, the teenager frowned at the lack of personal detail. “'Gotta remember posters next time,” he muttered as he flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.

After a few agitated moments, Sam practically bounced off the thin mattress and began pacing. `How the hell am I going to explain this to Optimus?' he wondered as he replayed the conversation with Barricade in his head. It wasn't like the `Con had harmed him, but then again it could all just be some sort of intricate plot to get himself into the Autobots good graces before taking them out from the inside. However, Sam truly believed that Barricade was serious about his offer. There had been a note of truth in Barricade's tone that Sam had actually felt some sort of empathy towards the injured mech.

Another thought suddenly flashed across his already frazzled brain.

“Oh, God-Primus, whoever. How am I suppose to explain that I went with Barricade willingly, let alone spoke with him without everyone freaking out and forming a lynch mob?” he moaned as he kicked aside his desk chair and slumped down into the battered wood.

There was one good piece of advice Barricade had given him that he did plan on following however. That when he finallydid speak to Optimus, he was going to speak to him as far away from Ironhide as possible.

Tetris became rather repetitive after the first ninety minutes and `Bee had long since switched to an online poker site in hopes of quelling his stifling boredom. He had added another three hundred thousand to their bank account, when Ratchet suddenly moved forward, startling the smaller `Bot from his game. With a sigh, `Bee folded on his king pair and slowly started to follow the others who had already pulling alongside the Medbot.

“What is it?” Optimus asked as Ratchet came to a slow stop.

“I don't know,” Ratchet mumbled confused. “The signal blacked out for a moment, then came back fifty miles closer to the atmosphere.” There was a small spattering of clicks and whirls as Ratchet made his calculations. “It should be here sooner than we though. Only thirty more Earth minutes.

“What?” Optimus shouted in surprise. “No more waiting then,” he announced as he backed up and shifted into `Bot mode. The others quickly followed suit as Ironhide immediately started charging his guns.

“All right,” Optimus quickly fell into “leader mode”, “it's obvious now, that this is no falling piece of satellite. Autobots! Prepare for possible incoming-”

“BOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!”

“Cover!” Optimus shouted as three large bodies hit the ground as the resounding shockwave of the explosion vibrated through them to their very core processors. Rocks and other debris soon pelted their armor plating and the three Autobots instantly activated their weapons and infer red optics, searching for the source of the attack. As the dust settled, however, all they could see was a rather large crater and a very smug looking Ironhide.

Optimus sighed when he matched the craters coordinates to those of the now very dead cactus. Standing, he glared at the black truck as Ratchet tried to help `Bee wipe off the dirt collected on his “wings”.

Ironhide shrugged innocently as he nonchalaountly holstered his still smoking canons. “What?”

Shaking his head, Optimus placed his head in his hands as Ratchet came over and began to clear the dust from his leader's intake valves. “Please let it be someone sane. Oh Primusplease,” Optimus muttered.

“It should be okay,” Ratchet assured him as he watched `Bee make his way over to the large crater and looked down into the deep hole at the scorch marks made there.

“Oh yeah? How do you figure?” Optimus asked, genuinely curious.

“Simple,” Ratchet replied with a wide grin. “There's only one signal. No possible way that it could be the twins.”

Optimus gapped at the rescue `Bot in what could only be described as robotic horror.

“Ratchet,” he finally managed to find his voice.

“Yes, oh wise leader?” Ratchet smirked.

“Remind me to have the brig completed as soon as we return. Classify it as top priority; above all other projects.”

“Negative,” Ratchet announced cheerfully as he attended to his own dusting. Ironhide could dust himself off for all he cared at that moment.

Optimus' optics flicked off than back on in the equivalent of a rather bewildered blink. “Care to explain your failure to obey a direct order?”

“Naturally, it's the Medbay that should come first,” Ratchet explained to him, grinning madly.

Optimus couldn't help but smile back. “Naturally.”

“What's `naturally'?” Ironhide's voice boomed over the pair as he made his way over. `Bee was right behind him, still dusting himself off.

“Why naturally you're an idiot `Hide,” Ratchet improvised. “It says so right in your medical file.”

Ironhide gapped in shock as `Bee started laughing at the complete look of seriousness on Ratchet's faceplates.

“What?”

`Bee only fell over laughing harder. `Who knew Ironhide's voice box could get up that high?' he thought gleefully.

Optimus shook his head at the group's antics, though he said nothing that would interrupt their fun. He knew that after the stressful battle against Megatron all those months ago, everyone was still having a hard time adapting to the absent threat of Decepticons always on their tailpipes.

“All right,” he finally interrupted what was beginning to look like an impending argument. “That's enough. Ironhide-take point. Ratchet, left. Bumblebee, cover the rear. Ratchet, what's the impact coordinates calculations?”

Ratchet reconfigured the calculations. “Three clicks dead ahead.”

Optimus nodded as they made their way towards the impending crash zone and took up their positions. All optics were on the sky as a faint light could finally be seen far off in the distance, increasing in size every few moments. There was a tense silence as the group waited and watched as the fireball got larger and the four `Bots moved back, allowing space for the incoming vessel.

“Oh, slag it!” Ironhide bellowed in surprise as his optics registered the fireball tilting slightly as it entered the atmosphere before slamming into the ground at an off-angle. The pod bounced against the Earth's soft surface and flew a straight course for the now retreating gunner.

“'BOT'S, INCOMMING!” `Hide shouted even though it was a moot point as the others saw the oncoming projectile and were already scrambling to get out of the way.

“Run Forest, run!” the sound byte echoed from `Bee's speakers as they all dashed for cover-not something easily done in the middle of a flat desert.

Ratchet let loose a rather interesting curse word, one that had even Optimus blinking in surprise at the fierceness of it, as another cloud of sand engulfed the group.

Groaning, the big rig once again dusted off his optics and glanced around at the three other `Bots laying flat on the ground. “Status?” he called out. A resounding “clear” echoed back at him from all three of his squadron and he sighed in relief. Turning to the matter at hand Optimus charged his weapons and slowly started moving towards the still smoldering crater with Ironhide and Ratchet right behind him as he watched for any sign of movement.

“-This is Optimus Prime. State your name, rank and serial number or you will be fired upon,-” he sent out. There was a small chortle behind him and Optimus risked an annoyed glance at his team.

Ratchet was grinning at him. “That was in Earth's English,” he told his leader with a small snicker.

Optimus' optics flashed off and on once more in a blink, as he re-played his words past his processor. “-This is Optimus Prime.-”

“Much better,” Ironhide drawled.

Optimus restrained the urge to turn and whack someone over their circuit breakers.

A garble transmission emitted from the large hole and immediately regained everyone's attention.

“Opti… Prime… Prime… Auto… Auto… Bots, Bots, Bots… sig…sig…sig-nal…nal…nal…”