Transformers Fan Fiction ❯ Cover Me ❯ Hope and Handwritting ( Chapter 4 )

Cover Me

By Black Dragon Queen

Authors Note: Sorry about the late update! Easter had my whole schedule thrown. Well, here it is. Please enjoy!

Font Index:

“Speaking”

`Thinking'

“-Radio Transmissions-”

“Cybertronion”

~*~

Chapter Four: Hope and Handwriting

The now five Autobots repositioned themselves around the table as they all tried to find a comfortable spot for what was promising to be a very long story. As they made themselves comfortable for Red's story, Ratchet began sifting through the large, random piles of data pads in hopes to find one with enough memory for any notes that he, as appointed temporary secretary, would probably need to document.

Optimus slightly cringed at the sight of Ratchet reaching for the stylist pen after having successfully locating a data pad. “Err… Hey `Hide-”

Ironhide turned a questioning look towards his leader from where he was dusting off one of the boxcars, “yeah?”

“Um, perhaps you should take notes this time,” Optimus stated in what he hoped was a calm voice. The sharp look Ratchet immediately shot him proved otherwise however and he winced at the unwavering gaze.

“What? Why?” Ironhide cried out, appalled at the very idea of having to play “secretary”. “I hate taking notes. `Means I have to pay attention to the boring stuff too!”

“Never the less,” Optimus continued, trying desperately to ignore the pointed stare the medic was aiming at him. “I think that it would be best that we all take turns with the smaller stuff. At least until our comrades arrive and everyone resumes their own duties.”

Ratchet's intent look never wavered, even as he moved the data pad out of Ironhide's reach as the gunner halfheartedly tried to obtain the equipment. Optimus gulped and tried to give Ratchet an encouraging smile. Ratchet was not fooled for a nanosecond. “Why should he take the meeting notes this time?” Ratchet asked in a steely voice.

“Er, well. You took them last time,” Optimus pulled the explanation out of his aft quickly. “I think it should be equal share since its only the few of us here so we should all take turns doing the, ah, smaller stuff.”

Ratchets' glare never faltered and everyone watched the two, or rather Ratchet staring Optimus down, with held breath. Ironhide was looking like he would love nothing more than to turn tail and scurry out of the building as quickly as possible while Red Alert looked nothing but utterly confused as the conversation was taking place around him in rapid English. There was silence.

“This is about my handwriting,” Ratchet finally growled softly, “isn't it?”

“NO!” Optimus quickly shouted, perhaps a split second too quickly. “No, really! It has nothing to do with anything; I just thought that we should all take turns and… and… stuff…” he finished lamely. The truth was that Ratchet had hit the nail on the head with that statement. When Optimus had originally asked Ratchet to take the notes he had thought that it was a brilliant move as the medic always had to deal with paperwork anyways. So, naturally, he had assumed that Ratchet could handle the workload. What he hadn't taken into account was a doctor's… handwriting.

“`Stuff',” Ratchet repeated skeptically with such a look of death about him that Optimus was beginning to fear his next maintenance appointment. “Riiiiiight…” Ratchet drawled as he finally relinquished the data pad to a now rattling Ironhide.

“Whoa. Medics are scary when they're pissed,” Sam whispered to `Bee as he watched the exchange with amusement. `Bee nodded rapidly, knowing Ratchet's temper all too well. For someone who had dedicated his life to helping the injured, Ratchet had a frightening bedside manner that terrified just about everyone.

Optimus coughed nervously while attempting to appear calm as he nonchalantly walked to the other side of the room, placing a now very nervous Ironhide between himself and the not quite steaming medic. Ironhide took one look at the snarling Medbot and just glared at his traitorous leader. Grabbing Red's shoulder plates, the gunner proceeded to deposit the now very confused security chief between his own person and the softly growling EMT.

Red gave a small, nervous smile and a tentative wave. “Hi again,” he repeated Sam's earlier words. Ratchet was not amused and Red Alert shuffled up closer to the top kick who gave him his own version of a death glare.

“-You deal with him,-” `Hide growled to the red truck. “-You just got here. He can't possibly be mad at you.-“

“-No, but he could offline me with just a flick of his wrist,-”Red Alert replied nervously as he attempted to crawl into the gunners lap. Not that he got very far as `Hide proceeded to bring his knee up and planted it into the small of Red's back, halting his progression.

Ratchet finally heaved a sigh at all the fuss the others were making and moved to the opposite side of `Bee who was staring at the “adults” with some look of amusement. “And they call me the child of the group,” `Bee whispered mockingly to Sam. Sam gave him a small shrug before patting Ratchet's resting hand on the table reassuringly.

“Don't worry,” Sam muttered to the frustrated `Bot. “No one can read my writing either.”

Ratchet huffed in replied before he snickered softly. “Even I can't read my own writing sometimes,” Ratchet admitted softly to the boy. “I believe Wheeljack once tried to create some sort of translating device for my medical records once.”

“How'd that work out?” Sam asked curiously, wondering momentarily who “Wheeljack” was.

“It worked fine… till it overloaded and blew up half the building,” Ratchet smirked. “Took us three weeks to find Wheeljack's leg.”

“His leg?” Sam gapped in astonishment and pulled his own legs up underneath him automatically. “Ouch, that had to hurt.”

Optimus then cleared his throat again and rapped his knuckles on the table gaining the `Bot's, and one human's, attention. “Alright,” he called out. “If we're all settled now-” Ratchet gave a half-hearted glare, just to rattle the Autobot leader once more, though it no longer held as much malice as before. “Err,” Optimus shuffled the stack of data plates next to him nervously. “Red Alert, if you could start your report now?” The “please” was not said, but heard loudly by everyone in the room and Ratchet was now having vast amounts of fun by shooting random glares at the other three `bots and sending them into sporadic, twitching fits of anxiety.

Bumblebee and Sam were both trying desperately not to laugh. Unsuccessfully.

“We-” Red Alert started out slowly, throwing a nervous glance at Ratchet who gave him a wide grin. Red Alert developed a nervous twitch. “We had completed our survey of the different sectors in the Almade Quadrant for signs of Energon Crystals when we encountered the First Commander and his squad.”

“Energon?” Sam piped up in question but `Bee gave him a small signal to wait, halting any further questions the boy may have. Rolling his eyes, Sam began wondering if he should start bringing his own notebook to such meetings for any and all of his increasing questions.

Optimus, meanwhile, was absorbing the information and gave Red Alert a very solemn stare. “Were there any Decepticon encounters during your search?” he asked in a low, serious voice and all turned to the red truck with apprehension clear on their features. Red Alert hesitated a moment before having to give the miserable nod of “yes” and Optimus felt his core-wiring shudder in fear.

“There were a few skirmishes with Decepticons Soundwave, Thundercraker and Skywarp but we were able to recuperate and force them back,” Red went into detail.

“And how-” Optimus tried to brace himself as he prepared to ask the question everyone wanted answered and feared to hear at the same time. “How many of each team are still active,” Optimus finally managed to ask with trepidation. “Was anyone lost?”

Thankfully, Red shook his head the negative and everyone, even Sam managed a sigh of relief. “No. Both units are still operational at last communication. My own team of Inferno, Preceptor, Hound and Blaster were all, together at last transmission. Prowl and his unit were also fully intact with Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Bluestreak and Wheeljack.”

Ironhide suppressed a cringe as he wrote down the list of names before the thought of the group's top commander slowly dimmed his feeling of horror at the names of the biggest pranksters in the history of the Autobots. His optics caught those of Optimus' and the gunner could instantly tell that the young leader was thinking along the same lines he was.

Sam caught the look shared between the two and glanced at `Bee for a reason behind it but the yellow `Bot could only shrug his shoulders in bewilderment. It was clear from the Camaro's own puzzlement that he had no idea either. Sam sighed and added the question to his long list when Ratchet's voice suddenly rang out behind him.

“He's with the twins?” Ratchet suddenly shouted in surprise. “And the walking time bomb himself?” He turned to level a fiery glare at their leader, completely appalled at Optimus' blatant lack of judgement. “When he shows up with screws loose and a fried CPU, I don't want to hear any complaints.”

“It was Prowl who assigned the search teams,” Optimus instantly tried to quell the medic's anger. “He insisted on watching the twins because, and I'm quoting here, `they can't be trusted not to blow up a whole universe out of sheer stupidity'.”

“Okay,” Sam's voice cut into Ratchet's build up of what looked like a very entertaining rant and the Medbot turned to look at the human questioningly. “I'm lost. Just what is Ratchet freaking out over?”

It took Optimus a few moments to quell the fear the medic wrought and rerun the conversation before he realized that Red Alert had listed the names in Cybertronion. “Oh, our companions,” he explained and translated the names in English for the boy. “Ratchet is just… surprised by some of the team assignments.” Ratchet let out an uncharacteristic snort at that announcement while Red Alert was frowning at all the interruptions but refrained from stating anything as he tried to nonchalantly move further away from the growling EMT unit.

“What I don't understand,” Ironhide finally spoke up and tried to get everyone back on track. “Is how you got here before the rest of your convoy.”

Red Alert grimaced and rubbed a rather large dent in his left side panel that Ratchet had stated needed the proper tools before fixing. “That, as it turns out, was a lucky accident,” the chief admitted. “We had encountered a small asteroid field and I was knocked off my projected flight pattern by a rather hefty piece. With the large size of the field, there was no possible way for myself to regroup with my team or a way for them to get to me without putting themselves in harms way. I had lost all contact with the others but at the same time, I do not believe that I would have heard Optimus Prime's transmission had I not been knocked off course.”

“So you are unsure if Prowl and the others have intercepted my communication yet?”

Red shook his head the negative and Optimus immediately grabbed a star chart unit, knocking down his once immaculate stack, and instantly held it out to the SUV. “Where exactly was your last transmission with your unit?” he asked, excitement already beginning to build within all the Autobots as the reality that they could contact even more of their lost companions began to compute.

“In the outer proximity of Comele Quadrant,” Red pointed to the group of constellations excitedly. “That's where we encountered the asteroid field. I did not receive your transmission until I reached the very edge of our charted constellations here,” and he pointed to the very edge of the pad's frame.

Optimus marked each point hastily, looking for the entire world like a kid in the proverbial candy store as the other `Bots started to crowd around him eagerly. “And what was their course at the time of your departure?” he asked quickly.

“Now wait Optimus, how can we be sure that Prowl kept on the same heading after losing Red?” Ratchet argued impatiently after Red Alert showed the projected path. “Wouldn't he first try to reacquire his lost unit before continuing on?”

“Who knows what Prowl thinks,” Ironhide groaned, dropping his own data pad on the table. Obviously there would be no more meeting notes. “That guy is about as easy to read as a tree.”

“Agreed,” Optimus nodded at Ironhide's analogy. “It's possible that he would try to complete his objective before detouring from the mission detail.”

“But wouldn't his pride motivate him retrieve his missing soldier?” Ratchet pressed. “I would think he would be all for the human notion, `no man left behind'.”

“Like I said,” Ironhide called out from where he was now lounging on a crate. “A tree.”

“You're not helping,” Ratchet grumbled and Sam snickered at Ironhide's attempted innocent look of “who, me?”

“Regardless of what course of action Prowl has decided on,” Optimus raised his voice over the bickering, “we now have much more to go on than what we had before. We have their last known whereabouts and two projected courses they may be traveling on.”

“Couldn't you just send out a transmission to both places?” Sam called out from his seat. “I mean, what's the difference if you send out one signal or two?”

“Decepticons,” `Bee finally spoke. “Who knows where they could be now.”

“Don't forget, Starscream still in unaccounted for,” Ratchet explained.

“As is that slagger, Barricade,” Ironhide added with a growl and `Bee instantaneously tensed at the sound of the interceptor's name, his `wings' began shaking in suppressed fury. Ratchet reached out a hand and placed it on the youngsters shoulder in an attempt to calm the `Bot down and `Bee gave him a small smile in thanks. Sam, however, sank low into his chair, instantly feeling guilty about his earlier conversation with the said missing `Con but thankfully no one took notice as Optimus filled Red Alert in on which Decepticons were defeated and scrapped in the Mission City Battle.

“There was one other thing we have yet to mention,” Optimus' voice faltered and everyone instantly went still as they all looked anywhere but each other, each one tense with a sad air about them as they all tried to avoid the impeding conversation.

Red glanced at everyone confused before turning back to his leader with a questioning look. “What is it?” he asked fearfully. Everyone's attitude was instantly setting off his internal warning bells that something had to be very wrong for everyone to act like this. He had never before seen such battle harden warriors so deathly quiet.

“-We lost Jazz-” Optimus finally sent on a privet link and the reaction was instantaneous. Red Alert immediately stiffened before bowing his head and sending a quick request to Primus to look out for Jazz's spark.

“-Have you done the Send Off yet?-” Red asked softly.

Optimus shook his head sadly, “-Can't without…-”

Red nodded in understanding before giving Optimus a reassuring pat on the shoulder plate. It was always difficult when they lost one of their own and Jazz was one of the few mechs who was loved by everyone.

Sam looked around at the silent `Bot's sadly, knowing that they were speaking via comm. units to tell the fate of their fallen comrade and he gave Ratchet's hand another comforting pat.

“At this time,” Optimus finally broke the silence and got back to the topic at hand, “I believe the best course of action is to continue transmitting towards Red Alert's final position. If Prowl does finish his mission first, it's inevitable that he would return to the place where they lost contact and hopefully we can reach them before they move onward.”

“Best course of action,” Ironhide agreed and Ratchet nodded enthusiastically.

“Well, now that that's all taken care of,” Ratchet said cheerfully, “next is to get Red up to speed on Earth culture and our cover story-”

“COVER!” Sam cried out suddenly, jumping to his feet and startling the large mechs. “I totally forgot about it!”

“Loud creatures,” Red whispered to `Bee who simply smiled in reply.

“What have you forgotten Sam?” Optimus questioned.

Sam whirled towards Optimus, “Red Alert!”

Red tilted his head quizzically as he heard his name called, “yes?” he asked.

“No, no, no, no,” Sam waved his arms frantically. “I just now realized that I have to get in contact with Keller about you.”

“What is a `Keller'?” Red turned his questioning look towards Ratchet.

“Not a `what' but a `whom',” the medic tried to clarify.

“The Secretary of Defense for this country is named Keller,” Optimus explained.

“Right,” Sam agreed. “We need to not only alert him to your arrival and the impending arrival of- seven?”

“Nine,” `Bee corrected.

“-Nine more of your friends. We also need to get you diplomatic plates and get you registered to someone.”

“Not Will,” Ironhide growled. “I'm already his `truck'.” The others all grin knowingly at the possessive growl in the truck's tone.

Red was now becoming vastly confused. “Registered?”

“The other forms we take are what humans use as modes of transportation,” Ratchet explained. “Each unit has to be registered as belonging to someone.”

Red frowned as he tried to process the influx of incoming data, “and whom do you belong to?” As one the remaining three `Bot's, excluding Ironhide, pointed to Sam. The fire unit stared down at the tiny human before nodding his head once sharply. “Accepted.”

Sam sighed as he flopped back into his chair. “My mother was right,” he groaned. “I am going to end up living in a car park.” The `Bot's just chuckled.

“What about Mikaela?” Ratchet spoke up inquisitively. “Some of us could register to her, couldn't we?”

Both Sam and Optimus shook their heads. “Regrettably, due to her, ah, family history and their certain, err, acquaintances, it would be unfortunate if any of us were to end up in a `chop shop',” Optimus explained.

`Bee, Ironhide and Ratchet all shuddered uncontrollably.

“Huh?” Red stared at the shaking `Bots.

“Trust me, my man.” Ironhide gave Red a comforting thump on his back, “you don't want to know.”

Red still looked confused, but allowed it to pass. “What is this `Keller' like?” he asked instead. “If he is in charge of the defense for the whole `country' as you say, then he must have some astounding safety measures in place. I would like to speak to this `Keller' myself, if I may, and perhaps swap security ideas.”

Sam was immediately curious as to why the other `Bots were shifting nervously at the idea of Red Alert meeting Keller face to face. “Err, perhaps at a later date,” Optimus told him. “For now, if you could get in contact with him Sam?”

“I need to get in touch with Lennox first,” Sam admitted. “He's the one with the access codes to get me a direct line to Keller.”

`Bee stared down at his charge confused. “Don't you have your own codes since you're our representative?” he asked.

“Yeah, but the phone operators never believe me since I'm still only 17,” Sam moaned. “And even if I do give the right codes, they assume that I'm some hacker trying to break into the system and every single time Keller has to assign me a brand new code.”

“Sucks to be young,” Ironhide smirked and both Sam and `Bee leveled their own version of the Medic's Glare-of-Doom number three. Ironhide simply snickered.

“Alright. Sam, go and get in touch with Will and we'll start preparing our transmission to Prowl and the others,” Optimus ordered as he held out a hand for Sam to climb on so he could be put on the floor.

Sam wondered briefly if it was a good time to ask for a private word with Optimus before setting the idea aside. It was clear that the Autobots were too riled up at the idea of contacting their friends as they started to babble with each other excitedly. Now would not be the best time to even mention the `Con let alone that he spoke with him. With a nod to Optimus, Sam quickly darted out of the hanger towards the human's radio room with Bumblebee following at a more sedate pace.

“Admit it Ratchet,” Ironhide was grinning like an oversized loon from where he was propping his feet up onto the table, “you'll be happy to see them.”

“I most certainly will not!” Ratchet snapped as he moved over to his designated corner of the main hanger. “Optimus,” he called out. “Could you hold that transmission until I have enough sedatives stocked up?”

“Sorry Ratchet,” Optimus smirked. “Every second wasted could mean that they're getting further and further out of range. Now is the most opportune time to transmit.” The smirk deepened. “Naturally.”

Ratchet frowned at the repeated word from earlier that day that he was quickly beginning to loath. “Naturally,” he mocked.

“So now all we have to re-code the transmission and send it out,” `Hide smirked and Optimus nodded as he was scanning though a few different data pads.

“The best place to send the transmission is on Look Out Point,” Optimus announced as he quickly started typing codes into the small handheld computers.

“You mean way back in the city?” Ironhide groaned dramatically. “Count me out. Had enough of jack rabbits to last me a lifetime.”

“Well, thank you for volunteering to stay behind with Red Alert.” Optimus hid a devious grin.

Ironhide nearly fell off his seat. “Say what?” he demanded after gaining back his bearings. Ratchet was beginning to quietly snicker in his corner.

“Well, as Sam has stated, until Red Alert is properly registered and has his diplomatic plates, it is best that he should remain here.”

“Heaven forbid that he gets pulled over by the human local authorities,” Ratchet chirped happily. Ironhide growled again and slumped back into his seat silently fuming.

Red was also looking slightly put out. “I do not need some… babysitter!” he snapped angrily. “I am not an untrained sparkling!”

“No you are not,” Optimus quickly reassured the red `Bot who's roller lights were beginning to flicker on and off in irritation. “However, until you are completely caught up on Earth culture, I believe that it would be best that you remain here at the base- and that you have back up in case any Decepticons learn of this location. Hence Ironhide and most likely Bumblebee will remain here to keep you company and help you with your studies.”

`And make sure that you do not destroy the base with all your “precautions”,' Optimus thought as he remembered the past horrors of Red Alert's helpful adjustments to previous Autobot bases.

Red Alert huffed once more but at least his rollers went dark. Ratchet's snicker grew in volume. “Ironhide, why don't you give him a tour of the base while Ratchet and I make our way to the city limits?” Optimus continued as he turned towards the truck.

Ironhide frowned, but knew an order when he heard one. Even if it was simply to keep Red preoccupied while Optimus and Ratchet made a run for freedom. With a groan, he clamored to his feet and made a gesture towards the room at large. “Well this is headquarters,” he started with a grin. “That's Ratchet's med bay,” he waved a hand vaguely towards the now frowning medic. “And over that way is Optimus' office,” he now pointed towards the opposite corner where the remaining three hundred or so data pads sat in sporadic little piles around a lone shipping crate. “And this is the door!”

Optimus and Ratchet groaned at Ironhide's false enthusiasm as the Top Kick threw his arms wide towards the grate opening.

Red Alert wandered next to the black truck and with all seriousness, studied the door before turning to the weapon specialist. “Well,” Red began, “it's a good thing I arrived when I did.”

Ironhide twitched as he stared at the Security Chief with a growing feeling of dread. “And why's that?” he finally mustered up the courage to ask.

Red Alert looked the gunner right in the optics before allowing a rather wicked grin to emerge. “Because clearly, you need all the help you can to get in order to get this place properly secure.”

Ironhide stared at the fire unit in alarm before he turned a petrified look towards the other two `Bots who were now huddled together in Ratchet's corner in fear.

“We'll start by building the lookout towers…” Red continued as he latched onto one of Ironhide's arms and proceeded to drag the now terrorized truck out of the building.

Ironhide's last thought before he was yanked out was that his two superior officers were going to pay as he watched them alternately waved and dabbed false tears with the white bed sheets that Ratchets used as rags as he was brusquely yanked out the door by the still nattering Security Chief.