Transformers Fan Fiction ❯ Fragments of Memory ❯ Battle Tactics ( Chapter 7 )

Chapter 7: Battle Tactics

 

 

Their arrival was announced by Hot Rod, who leapt at the yellow Autobot and tackled him to the ground. Arianna yelped and rolled halfway down the slope in surprise before Ratchet grabbed her up and studied her with great intensity. The emotions he smelled on her were a jumble of fear, denial, love and crushing loss. Love?

“You have grown, Aria Witwicky. I am Ratchet; it is good to see you again.”

“My name is Arianna now,” she corrected “and it's nice to meet you.” He shook her hand and a grin split across his face.

“I'm glad to see you no longer mess yourself.” This raised Arianna's eyebrows.

“Don't hog the fleshy; I want to meet her too!” Hot Rod interrupted, letting Bumblebee go from a headlock and put out his hands. Arianna stepped into them, looking up at the boisterous transformer.

“You must be Hot Rod.” She smiled.

“How did you know? Bumbles, can the girl read minds?”

“No, you moron, she's just more intelligent than you are.” Bumblebee said grumpily, picking himself up off the ground.

Hot Rod snorted and put the girl down, speaking over his intercom to Optimus Prime in that strange language of electronic sounds.

“Bumbles?” Arianna said with a sideways glance at her guardian.

“Don't ask.” He said, rubbing his temples.

 

“Right, we have our orders. Ratchet, you are to bring Bumblebee up to full capabilities then transport the girl and the Decepticon shell back to headquarters. Bumblebee and I are to go back into the city and limit human casualties.” Hot Rod said, in his serious mode. He was very much the lieutenant Prime had promoted him to now. Bumblebee let out a grunt of indignity.

“I'm not leaving her, Hot Rod.” He said, folding his arms.

“You won't be leaving her Bumblebee; you'll meet us back at the base in a few days time. All scans indicate that only one Decepticon has invaded the city with a few mini-bots.” Ratchet reasoned. “It shouldn't take you that long to clean up the mess.”

“I said no. I've worked too hard for this and I'm not just going to hand her over.”

“Primus, boy, it's not like you're sending her to her demise! I can protect her as well, you know.” Ratchet said, clearly annoyed. Hot Rod tapped his foot in impatience.

“NO, I won't do it!” Bumblebee said stubbornly. Arianna looked nervously from Autobot to Autobot. She had never seen her guardian look so dangerous. Strike that, Arianna thought. A foggy vision came to her; a swerving motorcycle, a scream, and a robot roaring as he threw a semi out of his way to get to her. She offhandedly wondered how far he could throw another transformer. Hot Rod silenced more bickering between the two with a sharp rise of his hand. He turned to Bumblebee, leaned forward, their faces nearly touching.

“Are you disobeying the DIRECT ORDERS of your SUPERIOR OFFICER, SOLDIER!?”

Arianna saw the capabilities of the facial structure of his sophisticated species as Bumblebee seemed to go through every emotion from rage to contriteness in a matter of seconds. His struggle ended on forced resolve.

“No SIR!” he snapped to attention.

“That's what I thought.” Hot Rod said, crossly.

 

 

His high wheels spun in the soft ground, raising twin lines of dirt several feet in the air. Hot Rod ground his accelerator and shot ahead with a satisfying roar. Arianna screeched and then started laughing as she clutched the steering wheel in Hot Rod's driver seat. He was entertaining her while Ratchet repaired Bumblebee (who remained silent and emotionless) because the medic was exasperated. The girl had hovered, poked, reasoned and even -argued- with him about how best to go about his job. She had asked approximately seventy-eight questions when Ratchet gently nudged her towards Hot Rod. The young Autobot was glad to take over, as he wanted to make it up to her for yelling at Bumblebee. Soon enough, Bumblebee's wings were intact and the rest of his minor injuries repaired. Bumblebee was slightly embarrassed that Arianna had seen his inner workings earlier but knelt in front of her as Ratchet transformed and Hot Rod placed the Decepticon in the empty bay.

“I will be at the base in no time, you'll see.” He said with a wavering smile. Arianna wondered just who he was trying to convince, her or himself. With a final lock of their eyes, lasting longer than they both realized, he stood and walked away stiffly. Hot Rod and Ratchet exchanged a significant glance and then all parted ways. Arianna watched in Ratchet's side mirrors until Bumblebee vanished from sight.

 

The scene that lie before the two Autobots was horrific, to say the least. The city had burned nearly to the ground, and people who had gridlocked the roads to flee had been burned alive in their vehicles as they waited. The firelight cast eerie shadows that would have confused lesser soldiers in the moonless night. Hot Rod recognized the destructive power; Soundwave and his small army of mini-bots had been sent to dispatch Starscream's orders. He immediately shut off all of his unnecessary devices, knowing Soundwave could read electronic signatures, and glanced over to see that Bumblebee had already done so. He was younger than the intelligence expert, but not by much. Bumblebee had been an Autobot warrior for many years longer than himself though, and a better spy could not be found. By rights, Bumblebee should be commanding him, but Prime told his protégé that Bumblebee was not a leader of soldiers. He could have never shouted down a friend, even if it was for the greater good. Hot Rod felt a pang of guilt and knew suddenly that his new position would age him quickly. Bumblebee was a master of himself only, and more suited to lead the downtrodden, hearts ablaze. Hot Rod fronted his oculars and scanned. Bumblebee had already disappeared from sight by now. Separate but aware of each other's location, they prowled the city. Not a sound save for the empty talk of fire consuming its victims reached their sensors. Soundwave had most likely left already, his goal no doubt to draw back the girl. After several hours of destruction had not done so, the Decepticon had abandoned his effort.

 

Bumblebee eased over a heap of bricks, edging his way low behind a strand of cinderblocks several feet high. He would carry out his orders faithfully, but those orders didn't say that he could not check on the status of Arianna's brother. The department store where she worked loomed over a rise, dotted by the charred remains of trees. Its roof had sunken in and fire crawled slowly across it. They had been too late to limit human casualties. The surviving humans had long fled, as the decimation had begun over a day ago. The faintest blip crossed Bumblebee's enhanced vision mode and his guns came out silent at the ready and his battle shield locked over his face. Two Decepticons Bumblebee could not identify mounted the slight rise from the other side. His cinderblock cover was scant, but he could make the most out of virtually nothing. The two enemies spoke to one another in strange hand signals, and one moved out westward. The other began digging carelessly through rubble near the department store. This was a recon mission, Bumblebee recognized; they were trying to recover any information about Arianna. He wasn't the most powerful warrior in hand to hand combat, but ambush was his specialty. The faintest turn and his guns silenced themselves and a long nozzle rose out in one's place. A slight hole in his cover proved opening enough to prop the butt of his long range rifle noiselessly. A single shot rang out with a sharp crack and the Decepticon's life expired before he fell to the ground, a large hole in his cranium leaked the all the Energon from his body in seconds.

 

Hot Rod heard the Decepticon coming long before he saw him. Judging by the pace of his run, the Decepticon knew he was there as well. His fighting style was perhaps the complete opposite of Bumblebee's. Hot Rod geared up his entire arsenal, considering he didn't know what kind of power he was about to clash with, and ran full bore at the dot appearing on the dark horizon. The enemy transformer saw Hot Rod as well and both their paces increased. A shout of pure aggression ripped from Hot Rod as they began firing upon one another. The skilled Autobot dodged the missiles effortlessly, taking the smaller pings of gunshots as a penalty for his maneuvering. A large plasma blast sent him flipping in the air, landing with his legs nearly to the ground, his hands before him. The fool! Using plasma would just waste his energy. Obviously this Decepticon was just here to pick up the pieces, not well trained for battle. Hot Rod almost pitied him. His head shot up, battle mask in place, and he charged again.

 

They clashed, hands grappling where missiles had failed, a squealing of metal deafened the Decepticon. He hadn't known to turn off his sensory equipment before hand to hand combat. Fool of a transformer! Hot Rod slipped his hand underneath the other's leg and lifted with a breath of effort and ripped sharply upward, severing the Decepticon's wiring. The Decepticon wailed at the sudden pain and shot Hot Rod with another blast of plasma, the force blew both backward and Hot Rod's chest plating was severely damaged. He was going to malfunction and screw something up if this didn't end soon, that idiot kept using plasma like he'd never been taught how to control it. It was growing clear that the enemy would kill itself trying to kill him; a very dangerous enemy indeed. A small switch turned over deep inside Hot Rod and his eyes went blank, a slow red crept into the dark oculars. He adjusted his cannons and slapped his arms together, morphing his firing shafts. An ominous glow built up inside the singular weapon, and with a drawing of air that shook the earth around him, Hot Rod blasted the Decepticon with his most powerful weapon: Balefire. Nothing was left where the Decepticon had stood, save for where the rubble had melted into a glass-like substance reminiscent of basalt from a lava flow.

“Bumblebee, the enemy has been dispatched. Recover what you can of the girl's. We leave in an hour's time.”

“Roger that.”

 

 

 

 

 

A/n: “Balefire” is used a lot in fantasy settings, and commonly reused as a powerful weapon amongst authors. I give credit for learning of it to Robert Jordan and the Wheel of Time series. His idea of it differs greatly from mine however, but I thought I should mention the reference nonetheless.