Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: The night everything changed

Proffesor Matthias “Matt” Faulton and Doctor Andrew Sairus’s residence, Faulton Ranch – Far Outskirts of Austin, Texas…

Six months after exploring the remains of the Axalon and Darkside in the cave in Davy Crockett National Forest…

June 23^rd, 2005 11:10 AM

Matt Faulton’s POV

I recall that evening on June 23^rd as if it was yesterday. Rattrap slept peacefully on the couch, as I watched him snooze from the recliner looking over my notes on my laptop. The TV was on quad split-screen with the international news on CNN, Fox, MSNBC and Newsmax with another Autobot/Decepticon battle aftermath. Andrew had taken Dinobot, Cheetor, and Optimus Primal out in the cornfield behind the house, as Dinobot wanted to train for a bit. I still am having trouble believing they are real… It seems like yesterday they were going by the temporary names we gave them, since some of their long-term memory circuits were burned out by who knows what. Some decided to stick with those temporary names, even after finding out their history on the starship’s computers, while others have decided to adopt the ones they found on the computers.

Understandably, Indominus Rex, formally named Megatron, has decided that what happened to bring them to this state does not matter anymore. He does not care about the past, and only wants peace and freedom for both the Predacons and the Maximals. A refreshing change, no doubt about it. It is good to see him leave the feuds of the “Beast Wars” in the past, where they belong in my opinion. I’m also relieved he decided to reject his name and stick with the one I gave him. I took it as a good sign. Better that way, seeing as his original name came from a Cybertonian warmonger. Right now, Rex is sitting over with Tigertron, Tarantulas, Blackarachnia, Silverbolt, and Ironhorn, formally Rhinox. They are across from the couch looking over data we recovered from the ships’ computers on the multi-screen desktop tower computer terminal connected to the house’s local mainframe, with a jury-rigged jump drive we made to transfer the data we collected from the Avalon and Darkside.

 I hear the door open, and see Andrew walk in with Cheetor, Primal and Dinobot. They all look spent form training, and Dinobot seemed a bit irritated. He must have lost the spar to Primal again.

“Don’t take it so close to heart,” Primal said. “You will get it in time.”

“It’s frustrating, though…” Dinobot growled. “According to those computer records, I was a great warrior. Now, I’m reduced to this pathetic skill level…”

I heard Rattrap stir from the couch, his optics lighting up. “Wha…?” He looked up and saw Dinobot, who was now his sparkmate, as they call it. Despite some friction between the two at first, they managed to become friends and eventually take to what they called, “Bonded” after they temporarily fused their sparks together. I did not get to see the full details of what this ensued, however as the Maximals and Predacons treat this sort of thing very privately. When I tried to look in when they were in this process, Primal stopped me and gave me a bit of a scolding as if I were some sort of peeping tom. After that it was obvious it is an intimate subject, as there is not a lot of data on in the ship computer library I could find. My closest theorization is that is their version of sex.

Dinobot noticed Rattrap as he sat down next to him on the couch. “Rattrap, what are you doing still up?” Dinobot voiced concern despite his exhaustion. “It’s late, and after all that combing through the computer data we did combined with the hike to and from the cave, you need your recharge…” Dinobot referred to their version of sleep.

Ratrrap snapped to. “Oh, bolts! What time is it?” He looked at the wall clock.

“Very late. Past 23:00 hours.” Primal said using military time as he went out onto the front porch. I guess old habits die hard.

Rattrap smiled as he saw the time. “But it’s still today. I got something for ya…” He nodded to Dinobot and got a box out from under the couch. I couldn’t help but smile. Despite being from the same planet as the Autobots and Decepticons I’ve heard so much about, they seemed so human.

“Rattrap, with all due respect, please not now.” Dinobot said, rubbing the area of his forehead not covered by his helm. “I don’t have the energy for this…”

Rattrap, still with his cheesy grin handed Dinobot the box.

“What’s this?” Dinobot asked.

“Your Birthday, according to the data we recovered. Open it. See what’s inside.”

Dinobot reluctantly opened the small box. Inside was a digital military watch. Something that I helped Rattrap acquire for his sparkmate.

“It’s an external chronometer.” Rattrap explained. “You said your internal one was damaged, and you kept losing track, so I figured you could use it. You like it?”

Dinobot was taken aback as he put the watch on. He looked at it carefully, admiring the design. “Rattrap, this is… I don’t’ know what to say! It is very nice, but… I’m not sure it’s working. The display seems to be frozen.”

“What? It can’t be, we just changed…” Rattrap looked at the watch and realized Dinobot was joking. He cracked an eye ridge. “Oh, ha ha. Very funny.” He playfully shoved him in the shoulder lightly, then lay back down on the couch.

“How were you able to acquire this?” Dinobot asked with a smile, looking at Rattrap.

Rattrap just grinned cheerily again. “Drugs. I sell hardcore drugs.” He said jokingly.

Now it was Andrew’s turn to grin. “Really? Maybe then you could start helping out with the mortgage payments on the farm.”

“Yeah, you wish!” Rattrap said, understanding the joke.

They sat for a while, watching the late-night news. Rattrap went into a deep recharge after thirty minutes as his optics dimmed again. By that time, Rex and Ironhorn, along with the majority of the Maximals and Predacons had called it a night by that point. Well, except for Primal. He was out on the front porch, looking at the stars. He seemed to have the most trouble with his recharge cycles. My guess was that he suffered from PTSD before… whatever happened that fried their memories, and that was why he did not sleep well. Dinobot looked over to Rattrap, as well as I. Dinobot stroked Rattrap’s helm a few times before picking up the sleeping Maximal into his arms.

I turned to Dinobot as he went upstairs. “Good night.” I said before going to the kitchen. I got into the fridge, picking out a container of high-grade energon with a bottle of scotch and three glasses. Then I went out to join Primal on the patio, as he wasn’t the only insomniac.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I asked as I sat down in one of the chairs, handing him a glass and pouring his energon with a shot of scotch. Primal seemed to like his Energon that way after giving it a try when we came back to the house the first week. Though Primal was a bit of a lightweight compared to Rex’s drinking.

Primal sighed, taking a small swig of the cocktail. “Not sure you want mine, Professor. I am getting worried about current events after all I heard about the Autobot/Decepticon war. What if they find out about our existence? And if they did, what would we do? I don’t want my men to be forced to take sides in their conflict, and I do not doubt Indominus Rex is thinking the same thing.”

“That I agree with, Primal.” A voice said from the door. It was Rex. He walked out and took a seat in a vacant chair.

“Good to hear,” Primal said as I poured Rex the same cocktail in a second glass and handed it to him. “Still, it doesn’t help to think about what would happen if we were found. Not just to us, but to Doctor Sairus and you, Professor… After all I have heard of the Autobots becoming a branch of the UN Peacekeepers just to get support to deal with the Deceptions, and how far the Deceptiocons are going to achieve their goal of domination… I could not bear it if we lost you both after all you have done for us. The thought wears on me.”

“Then don’t think about it, Primal.” Rex said. “Otherwise, it’ll drive you mad. Trust me, this is coming from someone who has experience with these things. At least, according to the logs on the computer data we found.” Rex took a sip of his energon cocktail. “Instead, let us think of how far we’ve come. From two warring factions to a final, peaceful unified group. All we must do now is find out if any of our crew capsules are still sealed and active after all this time. At least, that is something I worry about: If there are any other survivors like us. After all, we are not like the rest of the Cybertronians. After we assumed our beast modes, we became techno-organic, as the Professor puts it. Makes me wonder…”

Primal smiled. He always enjoyed how Indomius Rex now tried to look on the bright side of things. “That is an excellent point. Perhaps they have been in hiding all these years, assuming different modes to blend in, and to shield themselves from what was the abundance of energon back then.”

With that, we looked up at the sky from the patio. “I don’t think I have told you this, but I always enjoy looking at the stars. Each one a unique spark in a cloud of lights, like fireflies. I used to wonder if any carried life before me and Doctor Sairus discovered you after the Autobots and Decepticons revealed themselves. Now, I cannot help but wonder which one could be Cybertron…” I said as I poured myself a glass of scotch, seeing as humans didn’t drink liquid energon.

“Indeed, indeed.” Rex took another sip, then held his glass up. “A toast, to friends and peace.”

Primal and I joined in the toast. “To friends and peace.”

I only wish that peace would have lasted…

Faulton Ranch

July 5^th, 2005 – 3:00 AM

Rattrap and Dinobot stirred on their shared recharge berth as the phone rang.

“Who could that be at this hour?” Dinobot asked, half-asleep.

 Rattrap reached for the phone and answered on speaker. “Faulton Residence?” He asked groggily.

“Rattrap! Oh, thank god it is you! It’s Andrew Sairus!” Doctor Sairus said on the other end of the line panicked. “Quick, see if Professor Faulton is awake! I need to talk to him, it’s about the Autobots and Decepticons!”

Rattrap slowly sat up with Dinobot. “Wha…? The Autobots and Decepticons? Doctor, what is going…?”

“There’s no time!” Sairus snapped. “Get Matt on the phone, I think we’ve been-”

The phone went dead with a busy signal shortly after.

Rattrap looked at the phone with Dinobot for a moment, then hung it up. They both lazily dragged themselves out of the berth and walked to the door of the room. They started to walk down the hallway when Dinobot picked up today’s edition of the USA Today newspaper off the nightstand. The headline: Autobot/Decepticon conflict reaches breaking point! Megatron launches offensive! New rumored Techno-organic discovery changes everything!

Dinobot tossed the paper back on the nightstand, paying little attention to it and joined Rattrap at the door to Professor Faulton’s room. Rattrap lightly knocked on it. “Matt? You awake?” He asked sleepily.

Silence except for the TV in the room blaring the local news. Rattrap slowly pushed the door open. “You in here, Matt?”

The room was empty. Professor Faulton was not in his bed. Out the window, you could see the outline of the city of Austin. Skyscrapers lit up with lights and wonder.

Dinobot turned towards the TV as he saw the local news anchor reporting on something live on location. That’s when they both heard her speak:

“According to our sources, the Autobots have setup defenses in city limits to secure it from the Decepticons as their scout teams continue to search for these rumored ‘Techno-organic’ Cybertronians that have been theorized to reside in the area. The urgency can clearly be felt as the National Guard and 31^st Platoon have been deployed to help with preparation and defending the local power plant-”

At that moment, an F-16 jet flew over the reporter’s heads with a whoosh, and then one of the Autobots let out a yell, “It’s Starscream!”

“Lady get back! Back! Take cover!” One of the soldiers yelled, running forwards as the jet looped back around at full speed. Rattrap and Dinobot watched in horror as it unleashed a swarm of missiles on the power plant and its defenders! One went straight for the camera, and the TV instantly convulsed with static.

“By Primus!” Dinobot exclaimed. They then heard a loud boom outside and saw a large plume of smoke erupt from town as the skyscrapers went dark and the lights in the house flickered as backup power kicked in. Both Maximals were now jarred fully awake.

“…Matt?!” Rattrap hollered, now worried. He and Dinobot hastily stepped out of the room, running into a frightened Cheetor.

“What was that loud explosion?” Cheetor asked.

“I don’t know.” Dinobot said. “All I know now is that we need to find Professor Faulton…”

“Matt, are you in here?!” Rattrap called out. Still silence. He, Cheetor and Dinobot must have been the only ones in the house. They cautiously went down the stairs. Rattrap had not felt this uneasy since Faulton and Sairus first found them! The tension was thick in the air.

“What in the Matrix is going on?” Rattrap said, worried as they went into the kitchen, seeing a few police cars fly by on the road outside the window with lights and sirens. They heard a phone ring on vibrate a few times. Dinobot went over to the source of the noise on the counter. It was Matt Faulton’s phone. He looked at the screen.

“Eight missed calls… Three news texts. from Andrew Sairus?” Dinobot opened the texts on the phone and read them aloud. “Where the hell are you…? Call me? On my way?” He set the phone back down.

As soon as Dinobot set down the phone, the saw something running through the cornfield, the corn rustling rapidly. Dinobot opened the back door, sword ready for trouble, while Rattrap and Cheetor drew their guns.

Emerging from the corn in a full-blown run was Matt Fulton! Dinobot got out of the way as Fulton ran into the house, quickly closing the screen and sliding glass door behind them!

“Dinobot! Rattrap! Cheetor! Oh, thank god, are all of you ok?” Fulton asked, short of breath as he walked into his study at a quick pace.

“…Yeah?” Cheetor answered. Rattrap and Dinobot nodded in confirmation as Matt rifled through the drawers of his desk. He retrieved a handgun case a short time later from the third drawer. Matt quickly unlocked it with the eight-digit code, his hands shaky.

“Has anybody else came in here?” Matt asked, opening the gun case. Rattrap recognized the gun inside, as well as the ammo: it was a bull-nosed 44 caliber revolver with armor-piercing rounds!

“No, who would come in here besides you and Doctor Sairus?” Rattrap asked.

Matt paid the question little heed as he started loading the 44 and put the extra bullets in his breast pocket. “Just… Just don’t go near the doors or windows, get back behind the desk, stay in cover!”
“What’s going on?” Cheetor asked.

“Matt, your kinda freaking us out…” Rattrap added in.

“It’s the Coopers…” Matt said referring to their neighbors across the field as he finished loading the 44 and unlocked the pin for the safety, on the verge of full-blown panic. “I think… I think they found out about you guys… and they told someone the really shouldn’t have.”

“Told who?” Cheetor asked.

At that moment, what appeared to be a soot-black metallic panther lunged at the sliding glass door, cracking the double-pane glass on impact! Dinobot motioned for Cheetor and Rattrap to get behind him as they went for the exit of the room, the panther scratching through the mesh of the screen, and continuing to ram the glass!

After a few more tries, it broke through! Matt trained the gun on the creature, as It turned at looked at Matt and the Maximals he was protecting!

The panther then transformed! Into a bipedal robot mode, the Decepticon insignia on his chest, drawing two blasters from a compartment. “Matt Fulton, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Call me Ravage. In the name of the Decepticon Apaxia and Lord Megatron, you and these Techno-Organics are under arrest. Come quietly, and you won’t be harmed.”

Fulton stood his ground, pulling back the hammer on the 44. “We’re not going anywhere with you, Ravage! Turn around and walk away.”

Ravage laughed. “You are not in a position to tell me what to do. But since you want to make this difficult…” He fired a few shots at Fulton who dove behind the desk, Ravage barely grazing it with a laser blast! Dinobot jumped in at once, swinging his sword at Ravage, knocking him back into the wall. Ravage was not phased as he got up.

“Ravage, I am warning you! Stay back!” Fulton wared as he got out of cover and in between Ravage and Rattrap, his aim trained on the Decepticon. Ravage, ignoring the warning, hunched down to lunge at the human with a roar! Matt Fulton had no choice but to fire, the shot tore straight through Ravage’s cranial area into his brain module! Lubricants, coolant, and processed energon flying from ruptured and even broken lines! It splattered on the walls, and all over the Professor! Ravage’s spark ceased pulsing shortly after he fell to the floor, energon and oil pooling beneath him.

“Thank god for amor-piercing rounds…” Fulton muttered, taking a stunned Rattrap by the arm and guiding him into the living room while ushering the others in as well.

Rattrap was in disbelief. “You shot him… Without hesitation…”

Fulton then stood in front of the three Maximals, gripping Rattrap’s shoulder. “All of you, listen to me very carefully: It’s not safe here anymore. Both the Autobots and Decepticons are onto us, and you. We need to make a break for it. Andrew has the others in the schoolie loaded up with the others at the bridge near the county line. He, Primal and Rex are on their way to pick us up, we need to go now! Do you understand me?”

All of the them nodded, Rattrap shakily. They saw headlights outside in the front driveway.

“That’s Andrew, come on!” Matt and the group then rushed out to the front to see Andrew in the driveway in his Jeep Grand Cherokee with Primal and Rex.

“Where have you been?!” Andrew snapped. “Do you have any idea what’s going on downtown?”

“I got some ‘notion.” Matt said as he and the others piled into the Jeep. That’s when Andrew noticed the Energon and oil splattered all over Matt’s skin and clothes as he got into the front passenger seat.

“Holy shit!” Andrew exclaimed. “You’re… you’re covered in their blood-”

“It ‘aint from any of ours, can we go?” Matt snapped, uneasy and impatient. Andrew decided not to argue and started the Jeep. He reversed out of the driveway and got onto the road.

Rattrap was unsettled. But then again, they all were.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” Andrew said bluntly.

“Later.” Matt said flatly.

“…Can we turn on the radio?” Cheetor managed to ask after a pause.

“Sure, no prob.” Andrew said in a friendly tone, trying to set them at ease. He clicked the power button on the radio. Static. He scanned the entire FM and AM bands. There was nothing.

“Shit. No radio, no cell phone… Yeah, we’re doing great.” Andrew said with sarcasm. “Minute ago, newsman wouldn’t shut up…”

“Just stay focused.” Primal said. “Lose your cool and all of us may end up dead.”

“Anything we missed before they went silent?” Matt asked.

“Army’s put up roadblocks along the interstate with checkpoints, issued an evac order,” Andrew said. “They don’t want civie casualties.”

Matt thought quick. “If they blocked off the interstate, we’ll have to use the backroads, take 71 up to 281.”

“That’s where I’m headed.” Andrew said.

“…Did they say how many are dead?” Rattrap asked after driving a few minutes. “From the jet attack?”

“Probably a lot.” Andrew said. “They estimate the military casualties were at least 107 before the Autobots got backup. This one guy lost his legs, another was blown to bits…”

“Andrew!” Matt said. “Not now!”

After about thirty minutes of driving, they got to 281. Unfortunately, it was completely packed.

“Dammit! Everyone and their mother must have had the same idea!” Andrew slapped the steering wheel in frustration.

Suddenly, a mechanical pterosaur and a military jet flew overhead. They started firing on the cars in the road. Avoiding civie casualties was not an option anymore.

“Andrew, turn us around! Get us the fuck out of here, now!” Matt snapped.

Andrew threw the car in reverse and spun around onto a dirt road as people ran every which way. Andrew had to do some creative maneuvering to make it through, but the jet spotted them as it flew by! It started to turn around for another attack run!

“Jesus Christ, Andrew! It’s right on top of us, get us the fuck out of here!” Matt yelled.

 “I’m trying! I can’t just drive through ‘em, Matt!” Andrew yelled back as he tried to drive around the civilians.

“Then back up and find a different way!”

“They’re behind me, too!”

“Just do something before we’re sidewalk sushi!”

“For Primus’ sake, Matt!” Primal snapped viciously. “Quit yelling at Andrew and let him drive, or we’ll never get out of here in one piece!”

They started to get back onto a paved road after dodging all the civies, taking a path around some old grain elevators and went across some train tracks. They were now at an intersection for another highway. Andrew gunned the Jeep’s engine. It seemed they would be home free from there.

Then a truck broadsided the Jeep.

Everyone was disoriented for a moment as their vision returned. Matt looked up and saw the Jeep was on it’s side. People were running everywhere as the jet above continued to dive bomb the civilians. He then noticed the Pterosaur was above them, and a large Decepticon was approaching.

“Everyone okay?” Andrew managed to ask after Matt kicked out the windshield. Everyone got out with mainly scrapes and bruises, except for Rattrap. He let out a yell of pain when he tried to stand and had to lean on Dinobot.

“My leg strut… It’s damaged bad, I can’t stand on it!” Rattrap said.

The Decepticon got closer. It opened it is chest like a tape player. “Rumble, eject! Operation: Pursue and Detain!”

A smaller deception then was jettisoned from the large one, right in front of them.

“We need to run!” Matt drew his 44 from his waistband and Andrew got a shotgun from the Jeep’s gunrack. “Leg it, people!”

Dinobot scooped up Rattrap in his arms, and everyone ran. They weaved their way through panicked crowds as they went into a small industrial complex. After a while of running this way and that, avoiding an exploding gas station and many panicked drivers crashing into each other, they found a building with a door. Andrew kicked it open as they ran in. Rex and Primal barricaded the door, just as Rumble started to try and break through it.

“GO!” Primal shouted. “Don’t worry about us, we got this!”

“But…” Matt started.

“YOU HAVE RATTRAP AND THE OTHERS! GET OUT OF HERE, WE’LL CATCH UP!” Rex yelled.

There was no arguing. Matt kicked down a door to the outside, and they saw the bridge.

“Come on, we’re almost there!” They ran until the jet appeared in front of them. The jet transformed into a Decepticon with a cackle. It was Starscream.

 “Leaving so soon? I think not!” Starscream said. “Either you come with us whole or in pieces!”

“Leave us alone!” Matt shot the 44 at one of Starscream’s optics, shattering it. Starscream howled in pain as they ran once more.

“You’ll pay for that!” Starscream yelled, shooting at them with his machine guns. He hit everyone at least once, causing them to fall. Dinobot dropped Rattrap in the barrage!

Starscream hovered over Matt. “Little whelp. You should have thought twice before-”

Then there was a laser beam piercing through Starscream’s chest, followed by explosive cannon fire! Starscream was blown to bits!

Matt and Andrew looked up, and saw Primal and Rex! They ran forward, helping everyone to their feet. Then they saw Dinobot and Rattrap.

“Oh no…” Rex whispered as his optics saw Rattrap. Dinobot looked as well. Rattrap had been hit in a vital energon line in the torso, near his fuel tank! He lay there, whimpering in pain.

“Rattrap?!” Dinobot rapidly was at his sparkmate’s side. “Hang on, Rattrap! Hang on, I’m going to try and stop the bleeding, move your hands…” He put pressure on the wound, trying to get the energon to clot as Rattrap let out sharp yelps and wimpers of pain, grasping onto Dinobot’s arms for dear life. “I know, it hurts, I know. Just hang on, we’re getting you out of here.” He started to carefully lift Rattrap as he continued to let out sounds of pain and protest. “I know, it hurts, just hang on! I got you!” Dinobot was on the verge of tears, lifting his broken partner.

Then Rattrap went silent. His optics dimmed to darkness, and his body went limp.

“Rattrap?” Dinobot spoke. “Rattrap stay with me! Rattrap?!” He gently shook Rattrap’s now lifeless body, trying to wake him up. “Don’t do this to me, partner, don’t do this…. Oh, god…” He knelt, clutching Rattrap’s frame holding him close. “No, don’t do this to me! No, no, no please… Oh god, Primus Please!” Dinobot started sobbing, tears of oil running down his faceplate. “Primus, please don’t do this to me…” He sobbed, breaking down. “Please, primus please, no… Please…”

TO BE CONTINUED...

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Rescue

Dinobot silently wept as he held Rattrap close to him. Everyone watched on, time standing still for a few moments.

No one got much time to grieve, however. A few seconds later, a rush of air blew through the area as another Jet flew low over them, then transformed! It was another Decepticon similar to Starscream, accompanied by three more in robot mode! One was colored a cold steel gray, with a blue one at his side! The third was colored metallic purple! Matthias recognized one of them as their pursuer from earlier that commanded Rumble!

Rex and Primal assumed fighting stances, ready to defend when a barrage of laser and gun fire came from the far left, striking all the Decepticons before anything could be said! The ones that fired those shots, from what Matthias and Andrew could see, were Autobots! The Decepticons’ sworn enemies! The group of six Autobots were being led by a blue-and-red Freightliner over-cab semi, as it changed to robot mode and joined the fray, concentrating his fire on the gray Decepticon!

“Blast!” The grey Decepticon shouted. “Prime, your timing is ever incorrigible! Decepticons, fall back!” ‘

The Decepticons all retreated from the area, the Autobots driving them off as Prime holstered his blaster, walking up with a smaller, yellow Autobot that changed from a VW Beetle, as well as one that changed from a Onebox Ambulance.

“Ratchet,” Prime spoke, looking at Dinobot and Rattrap. “Can he be revived?”

The Onebox transformer’s eyes lit up as he looked at Rattrap, clearly scanning him. “His systems are still fresh. His spark can be restarted, but the energon leak will need patched ASAP.”

Prime looked at the professors, as well as Primal and Rex. “You are the techno-organics that the Decepticons have been seeking. I am Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobots. We bear you no ill will, and we wish to help you. Your comrade can be revived, but we must act quickly. I understand if you do not trust us, but if your friend is going to survive, we must be able to look past that. Will you let us help you?”

Andrew and Matthias looked at each other. “I don’t see that we have much of a choice.” Andrew spoke.

“True.” Mattias agreed, giving Optimus Prime a suspicious side-glance. “I just don’t want our friends being used for experiments or research. Or worse, cannon fodder. The final choice is up to you guys, though.” Matthias turned to Primal and Rex. “Whichever choice you make, we will stick by your side. You have our word.” Andrew nodded in agreement.

Rex and Primal looked at each other for a few seconds, processing everything quickly. Then they nodded. “We will accept your help, Optimus Prime.” Primal said. “We will have to work out details later. Right now, Rattrap’s revival and everyone’s well-being is a priority. We need to get out of here.”

“Agreed.” Andrew said. “The rest of us are waiting in a modified school bus over near that bridge.”

Optimus nodded. “Then we must make haste!”

With that, all the Autobots transformed into vehicle mode. Prime opened his cab door. “Get in. We will rendezvous with your school bus and the others, then take you to our base. Dinobot and Rattrap will need to go with Ratchet first, as his holoform can help to begin the revival process.”

“Very well.” Rex said. Dinobot carried Rattrap over to Ratchet, and got into his cab. A few minutes later, he came out with Rattrap, who was alive! He was hooked to a small, tank-like machine, though. Dinobot was in tears of joy, that time.

“Ratchet says that Rattrap will be okay for now, but he will need further repair back at their base. We should try not to move him too much until then.” Dinobot got into Optimus’ cab with Rex, Primal, Andrew, and Matthias.

As Matthias got into the cab last, he saw that Optimus’ interior had the appearance of a semi built to go the distance. Aside from the driver’s bucket seat, there was a captain’s seat and passenger bench seat for up to two adults, as well as a bench in the back that converted to a bed. In the driver’s area, there was a multi-mode radio above the windshield that could use both the HAM and CB bands. All the seats were complete with seat belts and were well-cushioned. Sitting in the driver’s seat was a middle-age man in black jeans and a red leather jacket, wearing reflective red sunglasses, his hair and trimmed beard dyed the same blue as Optimus’ paint. That must have been his holoform, Andrew thought.

“Holoform or not, move over!” Matthias said in a non-negotiable tone. “You can drive, Optimus, but I’m sitting in the driver’s seat, and I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer! Until you earn my trust, I am watching everything, and I will make sure our friends are safe!”

Optimus’ holoform unbuckled and moved to the back for Matthias to sit down, not even arguing or saying a word with a neutral expression. Optimus and Rex buckled into the bench passenger seat, Primal sitting next to the window. Andrew  buckled into the rotating captain’s chair, while Dinobot settled on the convertible bed with Rattrap, Optimus’ holoform sitting near the edge at the foot of the bed.

Optimus started to drive, going towards the bridge as the steering wheel and shift levers moved on their own. Matthias kept one hand loosely on the wheel, making it appear as if he was driving, while taking the radio’s mike in his hand. “Davidson calling School Bus, repeat: Davidson calling School Bus! The rest of us our on the way to the rendezvous, but we have friendly company. Come back.”

A few seconds later, there was a response. “Davidson, this is School Bus. We read you.” Ironhorn’s voice said on the other end. “Is everyone okay? Also, what kind of friendly company are you talking about?”

Matthias sighed, the responded. “We’re all here, but Rattrap’s been hurt. We were ambushed by a bunch of Decepticons when we were on route but were saved by some of the Autobots. They have helped to stabilize Rattrap, but he will need further repair at their base. We’re approaching the rendezvous in a red and blue Freightliner, accompanied by a Yellow VW Beetle and a Red Onebox Ambulance. We will be there in a few minutes. Once we pull up, Andrew will board the schoolie and drive it. We will all be traveling as a convoy back to the base. Dinobot and Rattrap will have to stay with Prime, due to his injuries, but don’t worry. I’ll stay by his side for the journey.”

“So will I.” Rex said.

“I will, too.” Primal echoed.

“Roger.” Ironhorn said. “We will see you when you get here. School Bus out.”

A few minutes later, they arrived at the bridge. Andrew switched over to the schoolie, while Optimus’ holoform settled in the vacant captain’s chair. A short time later, they were all on the road again, the schoolie surrounded protectively by the Autobot convoy, Optimus Prime leading the group.

The hours ticked by, as the inky darkness of the sky faded while the Sun started to rise. Dinobot and Rattrap had slipped into recharge after the first half-hour, the raptor holding his sparkmate close in his arms on the bed. Primal and Indominus Rex dozed off as they sat in the bench seat two hours later. But Matthias did not rest. He willed himself not to sleep, keeping a steady eye on the road as they switched between busy interstates and highways, along with isolated backroads and scenic byway routes.

“Matthias, with all due respect, you should rest.” Optimus finally said through his holoform, voicing his concern. “You have not slept since we started driving, and that was six Earth hours ago. You also have not consumed any nutritional substance either when we have been able to stop at refueling stations. Even Andrew has alternated between him and Ironhorn when driving your schoolie-”

“Optimus, please.” Mattias said flatly, his tone grained with irritability. “Your concern is noted, but I’m not taking a break. Not until we get back to your base, and I know everyone is safe.”

“You need rest, Mattias.” Optimus spoke up again, his tone more commanding.

“And I just told you, I will rest when I know my techno-organic friends are safe, not before.” Matthias’ grained tone became more abrasive with defiance.

Optimus didn’t back down. “Professor Faulton, I understand your concern and distrust, but you will not do your friends any good if you don’t have any energy to defend them, nonetheless keep an eye on them.”

Matthias slapped a hand on the steering wheel in frustration. “Jesus Christ, Optimus! Are you suddenly taking authority as my father, now?!” He shot Optimus’ holofrom an irritated leer.

“I would never consider such an action.” Optimus replied, his holoform’s expression remaining calm and neutral, as well as his tone. “But I feel I must advise you to take the best course of action. I understand that you and Andrew want to protect Primal, Rex, and the others under their wings. You both care for them deeply, and do not want them to be harmed. I can also understand your distrust, but we mean none of you ill will. To be blunt, if we did intend harm, we would have had plenty of opportunities to do so after driving off the Decepticons.”

Matthias looked at Optimus’ holoform with weary eyes, then finally caved. “Fine. I’ll take a break, and at the next gas station I’ll get something to eat and drink when we get there.” Matthias unbuckled his seat belt, stood up and walked back to the bed. “You have the wheel.”

Optimus’ holoform then sat and buckled into the driver’s seat, taking over seamlessly while Matthias settled down on the bed next to Dinobot and Rattrap, falling into a deep sleep as Optimus dimmed the cab’s windows with adjustable tint so they could sleep.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Rest Stop

Jasper, Nevada

11:45 PM

Matthias Fulton woke up to Rattrap gently shaking his shoulder. Matthias turned to face Rattrap, opening his eyes.

“You doin’ ok, Prof? We’re at a rest stop, if you want to get somethin’ to eat. Optimus Prime said we also have a military escort here, so we’re all safe. The rest of the Maximals and Predacons are out stretching their legs. Ratchet also said I could get out, as long as Dinobot carries me.”

“Which I have no problems with.” Dinobot added.

Matthias remembered his agreement with Optimus. “...Yeah, I am kinda hungry. Let’s see what they have in… Whatever rest stop we are at. Can I get you guys anything?”

“If they have any of the subsistence you call ‘fried chicken and potatoes’ it would be nice.” Dinobot said.

“I’ll have, uh… A couple of those grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup, if they have ‘em.” Rattrap said.

“No prob.” Matthias said with a smile. He remembered how the Maximals and Predacons could also consume regular organic subsistence due to their bodies being Techno-Organic. “I’ll see what they have.”

Matthias got up and stepped out of Optimus’ cab with Dinobot carrying Rattrap in his arms, bridal style. They were greeted by Andrew Sairus, with Rex and Primal outside, noticing that they were parked outside a Love’s gas station, with a diner inside, with all the other Autobots and a Military Convoy. Some of the Autobots were in robot mode, stretching their limbs as well.

“You must have really ran down your reserves, Professor.” Rex said with a grimace as Optimus Prime changed to robot. “You look absolutely terrible.”

“No argument with that.” Matthias said, looking over his tussled hair in the reflection of Optimus’ paint. “Rattrap and Dinobot are also hungry. Do you think they will allow us inside?”

Primal nodded. “We were already cleared by Commander Marshall. He’s the military convoy commander. He said the diner’s up to speed on everything, and they are just waiting on us.”

“And by us, we mean you.” Andrew added in. “You were sawing logs like a bushwacker chainsaw. I’m surprised Dinobot and Rattrap were able to get you up at all.”

Matthias gave Andrew a deadpan look. “Noted. Well, let’s head in.”

The Maximals and Predacons all walked into gas station, heading through towards the diner. The young cashier in the gas station looked on at the Techno-Organic aliens, wide-eyed with awe.

They all walked into the diner, taking seats at several different booths. The cooks, busboys, and waitresses all gave them sad looks as they entered and sat down.

“Guess they already know about what we’ve gone through.” Faulton whispered to Doctor Sairus. The doctor nodded as they both sat with Primal, Rex, Dinobot, and Rattrap.

The waitresses then walked up to each table, taking everyone’s orders. The waitress that walked up to Faulton and Company was dressed in bleached blue jeans, tennis shoes, and a white t-shrit, wearing a pink apron.

“Hello, gentlemen. I am Dottie, and I’ll be your waitress this evening. Poor dears, you all look exhausted and hungry. Here, take some time to order, I’ll be right here.” Dottie said with sincerity, passing out menus.

“Sad, but true.” Matthias replied. Luckily for Dinobot and Rattrap, they had fried chicken and potatoes on the menu, as well as grilled cheese with tomato soup.

When Dinobot and Rattrap ordered their food, they did it with quiet, and in Rattrap’s case, timid mannerisms. “We’ll take the fried chicken meal with potatoes, as well as the grilled cheese and tomato soup special, with two pepsis.”

“You got it, dears.” Dottie said kindly, taking the menus. “And no worries: We have the best fried chicken and grilled cheese in the state. Google verified, too.”

“...I’ll have the salmon fish meal with a coca-cola, please.” Primal said.

“Make that two, please, ma’am.” Rex added.

Dottie nodded. “And what about you two, gentlemen?” Dottie asked, motioning to Sairus and Fulton.

“I’ll uh… Take the fish and chips meal with an orange soda.” Andrew said.

“I’ll just take the blue plate special.” Matthias said. “With a pot of coffee. Please, and thank you.”

“Alright. Comin’ right up, and no worries about payment. The military convoy said everything’s covered.” Dottie said.

“It still wouldn’t be right to leave you without a tip, Dottie.” Matthias said, getting out his wallet. A couple of seconds later, he handed Dottie a ten dollar bill. “We all are going through a tough time, but it’s acts of kindness to others that counts in those times. That’s what shows the universe what kind of person you are. Thank you for your understanding and kindness, Dottie.”

“Oh, darlin’, no worries.” Dottie said. “And I appreciate the patronage. Thank you.”

# # # # #

After the meal, everyone went back out and settled down for the night. The Maximals and Predacons all settled down in the schoolie, with the exception of Primal, Rex, Dinobot, and Rattrap. They slept in Optimus Prime’s cab with Faulton keeping an eye on all of them. Doctor Sairus said he would keep an eye on everything in the schoolie as well.

Matthias sat in the captain’s chair next to the bed, looking over Dinobot and Rattrap on the bed. Dinobot was gently embracing his sparkmate, spooning Rattrap as they lay in recharge. Rattrap had the life support device strapped to his chest, and both snoozed in deep recharge. Primal and Rex had reclined the passenger bench seat and were sleeping back to back. The only one still away was Professor Faulton, watching over them all with worries going through his head.

Optimus Prime materialized his holoform in the cab. “Are you alright, professor? You are the only one who has not gone into recharge yet…”

Faulton sighed. “I don’t know… I feel I should have seen this coming. I didn’t want them to get involved in any of this or hurt. I tried so hard to keep them hidden and safe, Optimus. Both me and Doctor Sairus tried so hard in all of this. I feel the single lapse of attention with the Coopers, our neighbors, has caused all of this to happen.”

“There is no way anyone could have predicted this.” Optimus Prime said. “As the humans say, ‘we just need to roll with the punches, and forge on.’ But in order to forge ahead to a brighter tomorrow, you will need to at least try to get some rest. The Maximals and Predacons will not benefit from having a tired guardian.”

Faulton sighed. “You’re right again, Optimus.” He got up from the chair and settled in next to Dinobot, back to back. He could feel the soft warmth emanate from Dinobot’s techno-organic frame.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.” Optimus said.

“Well… If you can have some soft-toned delta wave music play through your speakers for a few minutes, that would be helpful.” Professor Faulton said.

Optimus brought up a YouTube sound clip from his World Wide Web link and played the sleeping music through the cabin. Faulton yawned and settled in, going into a deep slumber with the others after five minutes. Once that was done, Optimus dimmed the cabin’s tint and went into recharge, himself.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Adams Air Force Base

Dr. Faulton stirred from his sleep, rubbing his eyes. He saw that the cab was moving, Optimus Prime in control. Primal and Rex were keeping an eye out in the passenger seats, while Dinobot and Rattrap sat back on the bed.

Faulton got up off the bed, and went to stand behind the driver’s seat.

“Where are we headed?” He asked.

“Adams Air Force Base, in Las Vegas Nevada.” Optimus answered. “I’ve sent several crews of Autobots to the coordinates that Primal and Rex gave me, the ones where their ships are at. They are going to recover them, and have them brought to Adams Air Force Base for repair.”

“So, you think the best thing for them to do is take off?” Faulton asked.

“It’s the only option that will keep them alive and free,” Optimus answered. “They have already agreed to it as well.”

Faulton sighed. He did not imagine his relationship with the Maximals and Predacons ending like this. Who would guide them, with them out in deep space?

“Primal? Rex? You are sure about this?” Faulton asked.

“We are.” Primal answered. “It would pose too much of a risk if any of us got involved in the conflict. If the Decepticons acquired any of the data on our ship computers, it could alter the outcome of the current war, and change history.”

Faulton sighed, but he agreed. He knew that the last thing anyone should do is mess up the current timeline. He’d seen Back to the Future enough times to understand that. He turned to Dinobot and Rattrap.

“You holding out okay?” Faulton asked.

“Yeah, I’m doing ok.” Rattrap replied.

Optimus Prime pulled into a hangar, and parked with the other Autobots. Faulton and his group got out. Dinobot took Rattrap to the repair area, where Ratchet was waiting. Faulton went to the Schoolie to check up on Sairus and the others.

Optimus Prime transformed into robot mode, joining his fellow Autobots in a briefing room in the hangar. Once inside, they quickly met to discuss their recent acquisition.

# # # # #

“They’re absolutely clueless,” Ratchet said after the meeting started. “We’re lucky we came across them when we did, otherwise they’d be in Megatron’s hands right now, and we all know what that means.”

“Maybe we should ask them to join us in the fight,” Wheeljack suggested. “We could use the extra help, and they could make good infiltration units,”

“No,” Optimus Prime said, disagreeing instantly. “They have their own path to forge, we cannot interfere with that. They’re from a completely different timeline, we cannot risk re-writing their or our existence,”

“Well, we can’t just let them launch into space without training, either,” Kup said. “They’ll need training and refreshers, if we can even decipher their technology. Jazz says their ships has tech centuries ahead of ours.”

“Then we had better hurry and get them started,” Optimus said. “We don’t have much time, and every second counts,”

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Training

A Few Hours Later...

Dinobot waited patiently yet anxiously for Rattrap’s repairs to be completed. Everyone’s anxiety seemed higher than it actually was, as Primal and Rex, as well as a few others began to participate in training drills with the Autobots. A scout team had located the Axalon and the Darkside, and both ships had been brought onto the base via Space Bridge.

Eventually, Rattrap walked out of the repair area, meeting up with Dinobot. Dinobot was happy and relieved to see his sparkmate alive and well, fully put back together.

Faulton and Sairus walked in, seeing Primal and Rex in a practice battle exercise with Optimus and Ultra Magnus. The Autobots may have had the advantage in side and durability, but Primal and Rex had the advantage of speed and agility. It looked like they were testing out a strategy of wearing out their opponents from a distance, as the two techno-organics were using their long-range weapons to their best possible advantage.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to win them the fight, as Optimus and Ultra Magnus took them out with a long-range strike from their heavy weapons. Primal and Rex were thrown around like rag dolls before landing on the floor.

“You’re learning quick, but you need to learn quicker.” Optimus said. “The Decepticons will take every edge they can get, so must you. That’s enough for today. Go see Ratchet for any repairs you may need, and try to rest.”

Rex and Primal nodded with a collective sigh, and limped off to see Ratchet, Faulton and Sairus followed.

“Tough session?” Sairus asked.

“Very,” Rex replied, rotating his shoulder joint as if something was stuck in it. “It was a painful lesson… I hope I can move again by tomorrow. Plus, I hope tonight’s recharge will help us forget how we blew today’s training session.”

“Please don’t say “training” Rex, it only makes the techno-organic tendons attached to my back struts hurt more.” Primal said, arching his torso as if he was trying to pop his back. “We are so out of practice. I’m wondering if we’ll ever be able to catch up with them, reach our peak performance again…”

“Well, you definitely won’t if you have a quitter’s attitude,” Sairus said.

“Andrew’s right, you gotta stay motivated,” Faulton added. “You will get the hang of this again, it’s only a matter of time and practice,”

Primal and Rex smiled. “That’s what I’ve always liked about you two,” Rex spoke. “You always manage to find a way to turn a negative into a positive,”

Faulton chuckled. “I guess it comes from our teaching skills. We are college professors after all,”

Chapter Text

Earth - Unknown Jungle Area

Primal ran as fast as he could with the other Maximals and Predacons, being chased down by a group of Decepticons. They were right behind him, chopping and cutting down the foliage in their way that Primal was weaving his way through, trying to lose his pursuers.

Primal then came up against a wall! He quickly activated his jet boosters on full and took flight, as he had no choice but to ascend over the cliff. The rest of the group quickly started to climb or fly up the cliff face.

Primal then felt something snag around his leg! He looked down and saw the Decepticon leader, Megatron holding a whip that he had snagged onto Primal’s leg! Megatron began to reel Primal in, who had to grab on to the cliff face, putting up as much resistance as he could as Megatron slowly pulled him closer and closer… But Primal was starting to slip, his fingers leaving marks in the stone!

Indominus Rex grabbed onto Primal’s arm, the Predacon leader anchoring his claws into the stone. Suddenly the cliff collapsed, and all of them were sent tumbling down a deep, dark hole in the ground! Tendrils erupted from the ground, ensnaring Primal and his pursuers. Primal had no choice but to watch as the tendrils crushed all the Decepticons into scrap metal. More tendrils rose up, with more victims in their grasp: The Predacons and the Maximals! Primal struggled in futility to free himself, as he heard all his allies scream and beg for help!

As Primal struggled, he saw a holographic form materialize in front of him. It was a large face, and the words it spoke chilled Primal to the very core of his spark!

“Your very existence is a gift from us… We chose to spare you in order to see how you would develop… Your group of Cybertronians have been adapting and developing well under the tutelage of the human race, and the chosen humans that we have picked to monitor and teach you. The arrival of the others, the Autobots and Decepticons has… Complicated this experiment. But it is of no consequence… You will continue on this path, amid this outside interference… Just remember, we are watching you...”

Adams Air Force Base – Cybertronian Compound

2:00 AM

Professor Faulton was awoken by aggressive grunts coming from their room in the Cybertronian compound. Fautlon sat up on his cot, seeing Sairus and Indominus Rex standing over Primal’s recharge berth.

“...What’s going on?” Faulton asked.

“I don’t know,” Sairus asked. “He just started grunting and thrashing around in the berth…”

Primal let out a sudden yell, bolting upright in the berth. His intakes cycled rapidly, as if he could not get enough air. He looked around, seeing where he was, and put a hand over his chest. “I… I was being chased by the Decepticons...”

Rex placed his hand on Primal’s arm, feeling on one of his energon lines like a doctor feeling for someone’s pulse. “Your energon pump is cycling rapidly, Primal. Breathe deep, and slow yourself down. It was just a bad flux, we’re all okay.”

Primal’s intakes eventually slowed down, as he realized it was all just a nightmare.

“I need go outside for a bit,” He said. “I’m sorry I woke you up, professors.”

“No worries,” Sairus said. “We will just go back to sleep.” Faulton nodded in agreement.

“I’ll join you outside,” Rex replied to Primal.

Primal nodded, and they both stepped outside. The cool, night air of the Nevada desert soothed him. Primal and Indominus Rex sat down on a bench outside the door to the compound.

“So, just what was that flux about if I may ask?” Indominus Rex questioned.

Primal looked up at the starlit sky. “The Decepticons were chasing us through some sort of jungle… Then the ground collapsed around us, and we were in the grips of these.. Aliens. They said, ‘That we are being watched’…”

Rex raised an eye ridge. “A strange flux indeed, Yes…”

Primal nodded. “What unnerved me the most was that the aliens seemed familiar… As if I had seen them before.”

Rex looked up at the stars with Primal. “...You don’t suppose this has anything to do with our lost memories, do you?”

“I suspect it might, but without any proof or information, it’s hard to say.” Primal said.

Chapter Text

As the Autobots trained with the Techno-Organics, Professor Faulton got out his laptop, looking over what he had written about their adventure so far, reminiscing on the day he and Professor Sairus found them…

January 23^rd, 2005…

Davy Crockett National Forest – Unknown Cave

As they hiked through the wilderness, Professor Sairus gave Professor Faulton a hand getting over a large, fallen tree. They were trying to make it back to their campground, and had made it halfway back when the sky clouded up and it started to rain.

Quickly, both Sairus and Faulton opted for shelter, finding a nearby cave where they could wait out the storm.

As they waited in the cave for a few hours, Faulton got an idea that they should explore the cave, as he could have sworn he heard an electric current from within. Sairus, deciding that there was no way to talk Faulton out of it, tied a rope to a rock at the beginning of the cave, and they went into its depths.

After going about forty yards inside, they found the source of the humming: Two gigantic metal frames, that both of them deduced were the same thing: Spaceships!

“Wonder what kind of aliens are in these?” Sarius wondered out loud as he looked for a way inside one of the ships,.

“I’m betting more on it being some abandoned unsuccessful prototypes.” Faulton said, stating his opinion.

With their combined efforts, both of them found the entry hatch to one of the ships, which was more sleek and aerodynamic than the other, which had more harsh and jagged lines. Together, they opened it up.

As they shined their flash lights around the interior, Faulton spoke up. “Okay, I take it back. These are anything but abandoned prototypes. These are way too advanced for anything human-made…”

As they explored the ship, they found what they both deduced to be the main bridge. In chairs, alarmingly displayed, were what looked like human-sized robots that were part organic, part machine, and part animal.

Faulton examined the one that appeared to be in the command chair. It looked like a cross between a robotic man and a silver-back gorilla. They all looked inactive, as dead as the ship was.

“Uh, Faulton?” Sairus said near one of the control consoles. “I think I found out what was making that electric hum you heard…”

Faulton walked over, and they saw a few readouts in an alien language on a monitor! The ship still had power!

Faulton then turned his attention back to the silver-back gorilla hybrid robot. He climbed up and looked at it through the optics, where human eyes would be. Faulton reached a hand forward, to feel the metal helmet around the robot’s crainium…

As Faulton was reaching forward, he accidentally ran part of his hand across the robotic being’s face. It woke with a startled gasp, it’s eyes glowing red! When it saw Faulton, it leaped out of the command chair, and ran away, only for it to run straight into Sairus. After that, the robotic silver-back backed into a corner, observing both men suspiciously in a defensive stance.

“Hey, hey… It’s okay, we won’t hurt you! We come in peace.” Faulton said in a reassuring tone.

The silver-back looked on, appearing confused and cautious.

Faulton then thought of something. He got out a banana from his backpack, and held it forward, peeling it to show the fruit within. He broke a bit off, putting it into his mouth and chewing, then held it out for the silver-back robot.

“Are you sure this thing even eats?” Sairus asked.

Faulton ignored Sairus for the time being, focusing on gaining this cybernetic creature’s trust. Eventually, the silver-back robot reached an arm out slowly, and grabbed up the banana, eating it with ravenous hunger.

“Okay, that answers the earlier question…” Sairus said sheepishly.

The silver-back then looked over at Sairus. “...The earlier question…” It spoke, as if trying to figure out the words.

“He spoke!” Sairus exclaimed. “He understand what we’re saying!”

“Some of it, anyway…” Faulton mused. He faced the Silver-back robot. “I’m named Matthias Faulton, this is Andrew Sairus.” He then pointed at each of them in turn. “Faulton, Sairus.”

The robot silver-back looked on, then seemed to understand as he pointed at each of them. “Faulton, Sairus.”

“Yes,” Faulton nodded. “Who are you? Do you have a name?”

The silver-back robot paused for a bit, as if trying to process what they just said. “Name…? No… No name, can’t remember…”

Sairus shined his light over the side of the silver-back’s head. He noticed there were some scorch marks on the metal of his helmet. “It looks like something’s happened to him, like he was attacked. Those lights on the side of his helmet near the area that’s burned… They look like circuitry.”

“Circuitry…?” Primal asked, trying to figure out this sudden overload of information he was being given.

“Well, if you can’t remember your name, why don’t we give you one?” Faulton offered. “How about… Silverback. Or better yet, Primal?”

The silver-back looked at Faulton again. “…Primal. That seems like a familiar word. A familiar name… Yes. Yes, I am Primal.”

“Alright!” Faulton said happily. “Nice to meet you, Primal.” He held out one of his hands.

Primal, looking still confused, slowly reached out his hand, and took Faulton’s. They shook hands with each other.

“Nice to meet you.” Primal said.

# # # # #

Personal Journal

January 24^th, 2005

This is incredible! Contact with Aliens aside from the Autobots and Decepticons! These aliens also have the ability to transform, but instead of changing into vehicles, they change into animals! We’ve already rescued both crews of both ships, and are helping them learn our culture and technology, as well as about themselves. They seem to remember skills and the odd language that their ships’ computers are programmed in. They are also able to read it. This has been helpful, as Ironhorn, the rhinoceros alien is helping Mouseball and Spots, the Cheetah and Rat aliens, have managed to configure a device that can connect with the ships’ computers, and then download it to a USB Drive, which we can then take back home and analyze the data! Aside from Mouseball, Spots, and Primal, there are a menagerie of these new ‘techno-organic’ aliens: Indominus Rex, the Tyrannosaur, who we first dubbed as Sawtooth, Spidey and Widow, both man-sized Spiders of differing origin, Sphinx, who I can only compare to a griffon, Snapclaw, a scorpion, Red the Terrasaur, Stinger the Wasp, A snow tiger who chose the name Whiteout, and Sickle, a Velociraptor.

As we arrived back at the house, I knew immediately from these new transformers’ naivete, and from their lack of knowledge of not just who they really are, but how little they know about the universe, that they are going to need teachers and guardians. This is not just going to be an immense honor, but also an immense responsibility.

-Matthias Faulton

Chapter Text

McChord Air Force Base – Hangar 07

On Board the Axalon…

Primal looked over the controls in the captain’s chair. As he remembered and went over what each control did, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja-vu in his processors, as if he operated them all his life.

Primal paused to look over at the other stations. Rattrap was at the helm, going over the controls in a flight simulation that the ship’s computer, Teletran 1 was generating on the screen. Cheetor was going over the tactical systems, while Ironhorn was looking over the engines and main reactor readouts. Ironhorn was also communicating with Perceptor who was outside with several repair crews that were working on both the Axalon and the Darkside.

Silverbolt, Tigertron, and Dinobot were in the other parts of the ship, also assisting with repairs. Tigertron had managed to get the main power core back online, and was running a systems check while Silverbolt double-checked secondary systems.

Faulton walked onto the bridge. He was looking around with awe, impressed not just with how well repairs were going, but at the way the Axalon had withstood the test of time.

“This girl is put together well,” Faulton commented. “She’s definitely passed the acid test in this case.”

“You can say that again!” Rattrap said.

Cheetor then looked over the tactical scanners. “She’s about to get another durability test in a few seconds! The sensors are reading hostiles outside the hangar!”

“Confirm that!” Primal barked, rushing to Cheetor’s side.

Cheetor tapped the console and pulled up the display on the main screen. The image fuzzed for a moment before resolving into a tactical readout—multiple Decepticon signals, approaching fast from the north, west, and overhead.

“Primus…” Ironhorn growled. “There’s a whole flight of Seekers up there. And... Oh no.”

The largest signal yet came into view. Primal’s processor churned at the identifier: a towering Decepticon command signal— Megatron. G1 Megatron.

“Decepticons!” Rattrap cried from the helm. “Full-on attack formation! It’s not a scouting party—this is an invasion force!”

Within moments, the alarms across McChord Air Force Base blared. Autobots on the tarmac scrambled into position. Red lights flashed across control towers and hangars. The air thrummed with the telltale sonic booms of incoming jetforms.

Optimus Prime’s voice echoed over the base-wide intercom:
“Autobots, battle stations! All personnel, engage the Decepticon assault force! Priority one is protecting the Techno-Organics and their vessels. Stand fast!”

Outside the Hangar – McChord AFB

Jet engines screamed through the sky as Starscream , Thundercracker , and Skywarp broke through the cloud cover, unleashing a devastating salvo of plasma bombs onto the northern perimeter. Guard towers erupted in fireballs. Ground troops returned fire with railguns and turret-mounted lasers.

Meanwhile, Megatron , flanked by Soundwave and the hulking Constructicons , advanced across the tarmac like a dark wall. With calculated precision, Soundwave launched Laserbeak and Buzzsaw to disrupt communications while Scrapper , Mixmaster , and Hook began tearing into the base’s barricades with seismic drills and fusion cutters.

“Soundwave. Proceed to secondary objective,” Megatron ordered coldly, fusion cannon charging on his arm. “Secure the techno-organic vessels.”

Soundwave’s visor blinked once in acknowledgement. “As you command, Megatron. Operation: Infiltrate and Extract.”

Inside the Hangar – Axalon and Darksyde

The ground trembled as explosions rocked the base’s outer defenses. Faulton, Sairus, and several of the techno-organics were still aboard the Axalon, coordinating with the Autobots.

“We have incoming—east wall breached!” Cheetor shouted.

“Ironhorn, seal the inner hangar doors!” Primal commanded.

“They’re not going to hold forever!” Ironhorn snapped back as sparks rained from overhead conduits.

Suddenly, a high-pitched harmonic scream filled the air—the security field over the main hangar entrance fizzled, overloaded by a coordinated EMP blast. Soundwave and the Seekers burst through the shattered entrance , guns blazing.

“Get to cover!” Faulton yelled, dragging Sairus behind a bulkhead.

“Not today, scrapheaps!” Rattrap pulled up a console and initiated the Axalon’s point-defense turrets. Twin laser arrays on the outer hull hummed to life and began pouring suppressive fire on the intruders. Across from the Axalon, the Darksyde shuddered as its cannons awakened, targeting the Constructicons trying to break through from the side hangar wall.

“Activate Sentinel!” Primal roared. His fist smashed the central security node, and the dormant defense AI flared to life.

“Sentinel online. Defense protocol: lockdown. Intruders detected. Engaging.”

Hard-light barriers shimmered into place along the hangar walkways, trapping Seekers into narrow kill zones. Ceiling-mounted cannons unfolded with a metallic clank and began peppering the invaders with precise plasma bursts.

From behind cover, Indominus Rex activated the Darksyde’s primary cannon systems, targeting the bulk of Soundwave’s support. “Let’s see if this ship remembers how to fight…”

A concentrated beam of pulse energy arced across the hangar, knocking Skywarp clear across the room and crashing him into a maintenance crane.

Meanwhile, Primal led a counteroffensive , leaping from a gantry to engage Thundercracker in close quarters. The two exchanged brutal blows, metal crunching against metal as sparks flew.

Rattrap and Cheetor worked in tandem at the Axalon’s bridge, managing turrets and crossfire zones. “This is insane!” Cheetor yelled. “I feel like I’m playing a strategy sim in real-time!”

“You’re doing fine, Spots!” Rattrap called back. “Just don’t let ‘em flank us or we’re screwed!”

Ironhorn and Tigertron managed power distribution and rerouted excess energy to keep shields and weapons online while Silverbolt and Blackarachnia ambushed the rear line of the Decepticons trying to reinforce the hangar breach.

Constructicons like Bonecrusher and Long Haul were forced to fall back as the combined firepower from both ships carved through their armor. Mixmaster’s cannon was slagged by a focused strike from the Darksyde, leaving him crawling for cover.

With mounting losses and their plan in shambles, Soundwave signaled for withdrawal . “Operation: Failed. Tactical retreat required.”

“You’re not going anywhere!” Dinobot snarled, lunging from a flanking catwalk to slash across Starscream’s wing with his blade. The Seeker shrieked and backpedaled into the air, smoke trailing from his actuator ports.

“Megatron!” Soundwave called through internal comms.

“Fall back!” Megatron snarled, reluctantly. “This is not over, Prime! Or you, Beast pretenders!”

With synchronized motion, the Decepticons disengaged. Seekers shot skyward, Soundwave cloaked in digital static, and the battered Constructicons transformed and drove off through a blasted service gate.

Inside the hangar, the fire suppression systems hissed to life. The atmosphere was tense—metal groaned, sparks still fell from the ceiling, but the battle was won.

Faulton helped a limping Primal to a chair. “You okay?”

Primal nodded, wiping energon from his cheekplate. “For now. But that was just the opening move.”

Indominus Rex stared at the scorched hangar doors. “Megatron came himself this time. That means they’re desperate... or furious.”

Rattrap leaned against the helm, breathless. “Either way… they know we’re not prey anymore.”

Primal looked around at his battered but standing team. “No… we’re warriors. Again.”

Chapter Text

The lights in the Cybertronian compound had long dimmed, save for the soft, ambient glow of the backup console indicators and the slow pulse of the security monitors. Outside the base, deep in the Washington darkness, the night was still—still enough for the wounds of battle to finally settle.

All over the complex, the Autobots and techno-organics rested, drained from the brutal assault. Ultra Magnus was stationed in a sentry tower watching the distant tree line, while Bumblebee and Tigertron monitored internal and perimeter sensor feeds. Inside, Wheeljack took slow recharge in a converted maintenance bay, one optic dimly glowing as his systems ran silent diagnostics.

Within the techno-organic quarters, the Maximals and Predacons lay scattered among recharge berths, stretchers, and padded platforms. Faulton and Sairus lay asleep in a side room, exhaustion finally claiming even their restless minds. Nearby, Rattrap curled up beside Dinobot, the latter’s claws wrapped protectively around his smaller sparkmate.

From the window of the makeshift dormitory, Indominus Rex returned from his watch shift, his heavy steps silent, optics low. He gave a respectful nod to Kup, who quietly passed him the rotating duty log, then made his way inside.

Rex’s optics scanned the room briefly, the way a commander checks in on his troops. Everyone seemed to be in recharge, breathing soft, their systems finally finding stillness.

Except one.

On the far end of the chamber, Primal’s berth was shaking.

The world was ablaze. Smoke and fire danced across the sky, casting deep red hues across the hangars of McChord. The air was a symphony of screaming engines, crackling flames, and the whine of laser fire.

The Autobots were losing. Crushed beneath rubble, pinned by artillery, driven back from their defensive positions.

The Maximals and Predacons fought side-by-side, torn and bloodied. Rattrap’s rifle clattered to the ground, broken. Blackarachnia’s shriek was drowned out by a collapsing wall. Cheetor was nowhere to be seen.

Primal sprinted through the chaos, trying to regroup. Gunfire stitched the ground behind him. He spotted Ironhorn, rallying others behind a mangled loading crane, firing back at the Decepticons with practiced bursts.

Then came the scream of a fusion charge.

Primal turned—and a pulse of burning light flew directly toward him.

“Ironhorn, look out!”

But Ironhorn had already moved.

The massive rhino-frame warrior hurled himself forward—absorbing the full blast.

“IRONHORN!”

The explosion was deafening. It threw Primal across the hangar. He skidded across the floor as smoke rolled in. Through the haze, he crawled to Ironhorn’s side.

The Maximal engineer groaned faintly, one optic flickering as energon sprayed from the rupture in his side. His voice was garbled and faint.

“...You gotta… finish the mission…”

“No,” Primal whispered. “No no no, stay with me!”

He pressed his hands against Ironhorn’s leaking wound, trying to stop the flow, but it only came faster.

Then came the footsteps.

Primal looked up—and saw a figure looming over him.

Megatron.

Twice his height. Gleaming. Fusion cannon crackling with energy, primed to fire again.

“You failed, Primal,” Megatron said with contempt. “All of your kind… failures.”

The cannon fired.

Primal bolted upright in his berth, roaring. His optics flared. His breathing came fast—too fast. He trembled, vent fans gasping to regulate his overclocked systems.

A strong but gentle hand touched his shoulder. “Primal. Easy. You’re here. You’re safe.”

Indominus Rex crouched beside him, optics soft with concern, his other hand pressed lightly to Primal’s forearm to keep him grounded.

Primal’s wide eyes searched the dark room—searching for smoke, for the blast, for Ironhorn…

“Where—? Where is he?” Primal gasped. “Ironhorn! I—he—”

“He’s fine,” Rex said calmly. “You’re not in the dream anymore. You’re here. McChord. Everyone’s alive. You're safe.”

Primal stared for a moment, chest heaving. Slowly, recognition returned to his optics. “...A dream. It was just a dream...”

Rex nodded. “Yes. Just another one.”

Primal looked down, voice cracking. “I saw them all dying. Ironhorn took a hit for me—Megatron fired his cannon and I—”

“Hey.” Rex gently cupped the side of Primal’s shoulder armor. “Listen to me. Breathe. Match your intakes to mine.”

Rex took a deep inhale. Primal hesitated, then mirrored him. Once. Twice. Again.

“Focus on this room. On me. You can feel the berth under you, the ground’s not shaking. Hear that humming? That’s the coolant system. Just the coolant system. We’re safe. You’re safe.”

Primal nodded, still breathing hard, but steadier. “I haven’t had one that bad in years…”

“I figured.” Rex’s voice was low and steady. “You’ve carried a lot. Even before the crash. It’s not weakness, Primal. You’re not broken.”

The gorilla-bot looked down, optics dimming a little. “It just feels like it sometimes.”

Indominus Rex sat beside him on the berth. “You’re not alone in this. You never were.”

A long silence passed between them. Finally, Primal leaned back, rubbing his helm slowly. “I hate that my mind can do that. Make it feel so real.”

Rex gave a soft grunt. “We’re built to survive. That means remembering danger. But you don’t have to survive it alone anymore.”

He stood. “I’ll stay with you. For a little while, until you fall back into recharge. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

“...Thanks, Rex.”

Rex gave him a reassuring nod. “Anytime.”

He moved a chair closer to the berth, settling in beside Primal like a silent sentinel.

As Primal finally lay back down, his frame still twitching faintly, Rex rested one hand on the edge of the berth—just enough to remind his old rival turned comrade that he wasn’t alone.

Outside, the night remained quiet.

But the war inside their sparks still stirred.

Chapter Text

McChord Air Force Base – Morning

The first rays of sunlight spilled across the snowy peaks of the Washington mountain range, casting long shadows over the reinforced bunkers and hangars of McChord. Despite the quiet that now blanketed the base, a subtle tension lingered in the chilled morning air—a reminder of the Decepticons’ brutal attack just hours earlier.

Inside Hangar 07 , the techno-organics were already hard at work.

Sparks flew from an open hull panel on the Darksyde , where Ironhorn crouched beneath an exposed conduit cluster. His tools hissed and clicked with practiced precision, energon-laced welding arcs igniting like blue lightning as he sealed one of the ship’s plasma coolant lines.

“Cheetor,” Ironhorn called out without looking. “Divert auxiliary power from the Darksyde’s secondary capacitor matrix into the axial thrusters. Should lighten the load on our stabilization array.”

“On it!” Cheetor zipped across the hangar to a floor panel control cluster. “You’re in a good mood. Must mean your systems are back to spec.”

Ironhorn chuckled dryly, glancing toward the Axalon , where Primal , Rattrap , and Tigatron ran diagnostics on the guidance systems. “Just good to be functioning. And I suppose I have our medic and Primal’s nightmares to thank for that wake-up call.”

Rattrap poked his head out of a service hatch. “Speaking of, someone remind me again why I got assigned the reactor ductwork?”

Primal looked over his shoulder, a hint of a smile on his otherwise stern expression. “Because Dinobot’s already working on the AI core with Tarantulas, and if we let you in there, you’d probably reroute the coffee dispenser to the main cannon.”

“Hey, that only happened once,” Rattrap protested.

“Once was enough,” Blackarachnia quipped from atop the Axalon’s dorsal wing.

Despite the jokes, the work was serious. Both ships had taken minor damage during the Decepticon incursion. They’d won the fight—but everyone knew it wouldn’t be the last.

Autobot Strategic Command – Briefing Room, Sector C

In a heavily shielded room beneath the base’s central command tower, a holographic tactical map hovered in the air. It displayed the region surrounding McChord AFB, with key locations marked in red, blue, and yellow. A rotating indicator blinked ominously at the Decepticons’ last known exit route.

Optimus Prime stood at the head of the conference table, arms folded behind his back, optics focused on the map. Around him were seated his top officers: Ultra Magnus , Ratchet , Jazz , Wheeljack , Perceptor , Kup , and Bumblebee . A second holographic screen displayed telemetry from space and Earth-bound sensors, all combed for signs of further Decepticon movement.

“Their last attack was not a probing strike,” Ultra Magnus said bluntly. “It was a full-frontal attempt to seize the techno-organics. And they nearly breached containment.”

“Soundwave’s strategy nearly worked,” Perceptor added, enlarging an image of the hangar breach. “Their use of triangulated assault vectors suggests battlefield coordination at the sub-second level.”

“They had help,” Ratchet grunted. “Seekers laid cover fire. Constructicons handled demolition. That’s not a raid, it’s a war team.”

“But why withdraw?” Bumblebee asked. “They had momentum—Megatron could’ve pressed the assault.”

“Because of the Axalon and Darksyde,” Optimus replied. “Those ships turned the tide. The techno-organics held their ground and used their old hardware with strategic precision. Our enemies underestimated them.”

Jazz gave a low whistle. “Gotta admit, Prime… I’ve seen a lot of sparks come and go, but those Maximals and Predacons? They’ve got grit.”

Optimus nodded, then turned to Wheeljack. “Status on defensive systems?”

“We’ve doubled perimeter grid density, reinforced hangar shielding, and linked the ships’ defense systems to our own,” Wheeljack replied. “Sentinel protocols are synched. If they try a second breach, they’re in for a very rude awakening.”

“And the ships themselves?” Prime looked to Perceptor.

“Axalon is almost fully operational. Darksyde needs another 48 hours before we can confirm faster-than-light capability. Their onboard systems are centuries ahead of ours, but compatible enough for us to assist.”

Kup grumbled. “Just hope we’re not pouring energy into evac ships we’ll never get to launch.”

“There’s no telling what the next attack will bring,” Prime said, his voice level. “But we must prepare for all scenarios: a siege, another breach attempt, or worse—air superiority loss.”

Silence fell across the table. Everyone understood the implication.

Prime looked at them all. “We protect this base. We protect our guests. If we lose McChord, we lose the last secure zone we have on this continent. We don’t just fight for survival—we fight for what’s right.”

He looked to Ultra Magnus. “You’ll coordinate with base command. Fortify the outer walls. Wheeljack, keep our shield matrix aligned with the ships’ weapons grid. Ratchet, prep the medical bay—triage protocol, in case of mass casualties.”

Optimus stepped back from the table. “And if they return… we make sure this time, they don’t leave.”

The Autobots nodded in grim agreement.

Hangar 07 – Techno-Organic Quarters

Back in the hangar, Primal wiped coolant off his hands as the diagnostic cycle ended. He looked around at the buzz of activity. Repairs. Reinforcements. Vigilance.

Rex walked up behind him, arms crossed, silent.

“We won that battle,” Primal said quietly, “but it doesn’t feel like a victory.”

Rex responded after a moment. “Survival isn’t always pretty. But sometimes it’s enough.”

They both looked toward the front of the hangar, where guards rotated at the checkpoint, weapons ready.

“Then we make it enough,” Primal said. “Because next time… they won’t catch us off guard.”

Hangar 07 – Later That Morning

The echo of tools and humming diagnostics continued to fill the hangar as Primal and Rex stood in quiet contemplation. Their talk had ended, but the weight of their shared burden lingered.

Just as Primal turned to reenter the Axalon, a loud, rhythmic clank-clank-clank drew his attention from across the hangar floor.

From the lift bay near the side entrance, Professors Matthias Faulton and Andrew Sairus walked forward—each clad in a humanoid-shaped, metallic exoskeleton. The suits were cobbled together from spare Cybertronian parts, human power armor blueprints, and generous assistance from Wheeljack , who had clearly left his fingerprints on the design.

Faulton’s suit , painted matte black with utility pouches and a tool kit across the chest, had a railgun mount over the shoulder and a plasma torch fitted to one arm. The other bore a multitool gauntlet resembling a mechanical hand with retractable implements.

Painted on the side in bold, white stenciled font was the name:
ALICE – Advanced Light Interface for Civilian Engineering.

Sairus’ suit , deep navy with reinforced plating and a retractable welding lance mounted along the forearm, carried a rotary rivet cannon and an articulated loader arm. Its chest plate bore the nickname:
JILL – Joint Integrated Load-Lifter.

Rex raised an optic ridge, impressed. “Okay… I’ve seen human power loaders before, but this? This is something else.”

Faulton smirked as he stepped up beside them. “What can I say? We had a few hours of free time and access to Wheeljack’s parts bin. Thought we’d pitch in.”

Sairus clapped his suit’s hand against his metal-clad thigh. “They’ve got combat overrides, but that’s not the point. These were built to help—repair work, lifting, field rigging. Between us, we can cut reinforcement time in half.”

Primal stepped forward, arms folded. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, professors… but this is dangerous work. If the Decepticons attack again—”

“We’re not asking to charge into battle,” Faulton interrupted, his tone earnest. “But you need help. Skilled hands, extra tools, support. These suits were built for maintenance first, self-defense second. We know what we’re getting into.”

“And besides,” Sairus added, “it’s not like sitting back ever helped anyone win a war.”

There was a tense pause.

Primal looked to Rex. Rex nodded slightly—reluctantly.

Primal sighed and relented. “Alright. But on one condition—if there’s another attack, you two stay out of combat unless there’s no other choice. No heroics. No frontlines.”

“Understood,” Faulton said with a firm nod. “You have my word.”

“Same,” Sairus replied. “We’re not soldiers—we’re your support team.”

Primal held their gaze for a long moment. Then he nodded. “Fine. Welcome to the crew… officially.”

Rex smiled faintly, a rare show of warmth. “Try not to break anything too expensive.”

Faulton turned and clanked his exo-glove into the hull of the Axalon. “Let’s get to work.”

As the humans got to their tasks—one on each ship—Primal watched them for a moment longer, then looked to Rex. “They’ve changed since the cave.”

Rex’s optics dimmed in agreement. “We all have.”

Across the hangar, sparks lit the air again—not from weapons this time, but from hope, welded into steel.

Chapter Text

McChord Air Force Base – Hangar 07, 8:12 AM

Twin engines pulsed with a low hum as the Axalon and Darksyde powered up in unison. Though not yet fully repaired, both vessels were finally flight-capable. Minor systems still flickered here and there, but propulsion, navigation, and communications were stable. Shielding was at sixty-eight percent. Weapons were online—though limited to short bursts and manual targeting.

Inside the Axalon , Primal stood at the command chair, armor polished, hands gripping the rail with quiet reverence. Behind him, Cheetor , Ironhorn , Blackarachnia , and Tigatron manned secondary stations. Faulton , seated at a secondary console behind Primal, monitored engineering data from his exosuit.

“Engines stabilized at seventy-two percent output. Shielding is holding. She’s ready to fly,” Ironhorn reported.

“Then let’s take her for a spin,” Primal said, allowing the hint of a smile.

In the Darksyde , Indominus Rex sat in a curved captain’s chair beneath an arcing ceiling of red-lit panels. Rattrap , Dinobot , Silverbolt , and Tarantulas checked off their stations as the ship’s deep-throated engines vibrated through the deck plating. Doctor Sairus stood near the comms array, checking readouts.

“Thrusters hot. Shields holding at sixty percent,” Tarantulas muttered. “Still ugly, but she’ll fly.”

“She always did like to growl when she’s angry,” Rex said.

Outside, Optimus Prime stood with Ultra Magnus , watching as both ships slowly hovered from the ground and ascended above the tarmac. They rose higher into the morning mist before leveling off and entering slow cruise formation.

“Destroyer-class shuttle ‘Prometheus’ is shadowing both vessels,” Magnus confirmed. “Perceptor and Wheeljack are onboard in case of emergency.”

“Keep them close. If there’s one thing we’ve learned, it’s that the skies are no longer safe,” Prime said, optics narrowing.

Sky Above Washington – 9:02 AM

Ten minutes into the test flight, the Axalon’s sensor suite pinged violently.

“Unknown signals detected,” Cheetor called out. “Three life signs. They’re… techno-organic.”

Primal leaned forward. “Location?”

“Northeast. Ten miles out. They’re moving fast. And… being pursued.”

Across the link, the same alert came through the Darksyde.

“Three signatures. Same as ours,” Silverbolt said. “Roughly humanoid.”

“Can you ID?” Rex asked.

“Partial match: Airazor. Quickstrike. Depth Charge.”

“Told you they weren’t the only ones,” Sairus muttered.

“Coordinates locked,” Ironhorn confirmed. “I’m picking up weapons fire—Decepticon energy signatures incoming!”

“Prometheus to Axalon and Darksyde,” came Perceptor’s voice over the comm. “We’re receiving the same readings. Three Decepticons confirmed: Thundercracker, Soundwave, and Barricade.”

“This isn’t a coincidence,” Primal said grimly. “They were tracking them.”

“Time to stop the chase,” Rex replied.

Forest Clearing – 9:13 AM

Down below, Airazor darted through the treetops in falcon form, wings scorched by plasma fire. Behind her, Quickstrike weaved between broken trees, his serpentine tail flaring with tension. Depth Charge , massive and shark-themed even in his beast mode, trudged through shallow water, deflecting blasts with makeshift shielding.

“Don’t stop!” Airazor shouted. “We can’t outgun them!”

Thundercracker swooped overhead, diving to fire another barrage. “You won’t escape this time, bird-bot!”

From the ridgeline, Soundwave locked onto Depth Charge’s signal. “Target: acquired. Terminate or retrieve.”

Then came the roar of engines.

The Axalon and Darksyde broke through the cloud cover , flanking each other with the Prometheus hovering behind them. A symphony of defensive turrets extended from both ships as energy bolts screamed toward the Decepticons from above.

“Maximals and Predacons, lay down suppressive fire!” Primal barked. “Keep them off our people!”

Airazor’s optics flicked upward as golden light streaked past her wings. “What the—?”

Quickstrike skidded to a halt as a blast struck near Barricade, forcing him to duck behind a tree. “Ain’t complainin’, but who in tarnation are these guys?!”

“Help,” Depth Charge said, stunned. “Real help.”

Indominus Rex ’s voice echoed through the comm channel. “All units, converge on the survivors. Bring them in.”

Thundercracker snarled, banking away. “I hate it when they cheat.”

Soundwave raised his arm, calling back his drones. “Tactical retreat. Objective compromised.”

Barricade growled. “We’ll get them next time.”

As the Decepticons broke off and vanished into the forest, the three battered techno-organics staggered out into the clearing. Ratchet , aboard the Prometheus, deployed a hover-lift and med-aid drones.

Faulton jumped from the Darksyde’s rear ramp, ALICE whirring as he moved toward Airazor.

“You’re safe now,” he said, offering a hand.

Airazor tilted her head. “Safe…?”

Primal approached with caution. “Do you… remember us?”

Quickstrike squinted. “Y’all look familiar… but I ain’t got no names in my head. Everything’s fuzzy.”

“Same here,” Depth Charge grunted. “I know I’m not supposed to be alone. But I don’t remember the team. Or the mission.”

A long silence fell.

“You were part of us,” Primal said softly. “Before the crash. Before the memory damage. You’re Maximals and Predacons. Family.”

Rex walked up beside him. “You’re not alone anymore. We’ll help you, like we helped each other. But it’s your choice.”

Airazor looked at them—at the ships, the crew, the exhausted but familiar faces.

“…I don’t know who I am,” she said quietly. “But if you’ll help us figure it out… then we’ll stay.”

Quickstrike scratched his head. “Heh. Guess I’m along for the ride.”

Depth Charge gave a slow nod. “For now.”

Rattrap stepped forward, cracking a small smile. “Great. More mouths to feed and bolts to tighten.”

Dinobot elbowed him. “Show some grace.”

As they were guided aboard the Axalon and Darksyde, Cheetor handed Depth Charge a ration pack, while Blackarachnia gently helped Airazor with a singed wing brace. The crews were growing—and so was the hope that they’d find the rest of their missing family.

Above them, the skies cleared once more.

But the danger was far from over.

Chapter Text

Aboard the Prometheus – Return to McChord

The three ships flew in tight formation, a wedge of defensive cohesion cutting through the cold morning sky. The Prometheus , sleek and battle-hardened, maintained a rear escort position behind the Axalon and Darksyde , both of which now bore additional passengers: the newly recovered techno-organics Airazor , Quickstrike , and Depth Charge .

Inside the Axalon’s medical suite, Ratchet , temporarily aboard from the Prometheus, scanned Airazor’s wing. Primal and Faulton watched from the side as the Maximal falcon sat on the med berth, quiet but alert.

“No structural compromise,” Ratchet said, running a stabilizing field along her armature. “Nanite mesh is doing its job. She’ll be flight-capable again in a day or two.”

“Thanks,” Airazor said with a soft, unsure tone. She looked to Primal. “You… said I was part of your crew?”

Primal gave a gentle nod. “You were one of our best. A scout. Fast, tactical, sharp. You and Tigatron were close.”

She blinked, processing. “I don’t… remember that. I don’t remember anything.”

“You will,” Primal replied with certainty. “We’ve all been where you are.”

In the Darksyde’s briefing room, Rex sat across from Quickstrike and Depth Charge , a holo-display of their names and images flickering beside a star map of their last known coordinates.

“You were found in stasis by our human allies and revived. We believe your memory loss is the same as ours. Systems damaged during the crash.”

Quickstrike looked between the images and his reflection on a screen. “Kinda weird lookin’ fella. That me?”

“Afraid so,” Sairus smirked nearby. “But don’t worry, you wear it well.”

Depth Charge said nothing for a long time. “You’re sure we’re Predacons?”

Rex shook his head. “Not anymore. Not in the way the factions used to be. We’re something new now. Techno-organics. United, for survival and peace.”

Depth Charge finally nodded. “Then I guess we’ll have to make this work.”

McChord Air Force Base – Hangar 07

The trio of ships landed smoothly without incident, a welcome change from the chaos of the last few days. Their engines hissed down into quiet stasis, and lifts lowered to the tarmac as tech crews and guards moved in to assist.

At the command center, Optimus Prime , Ultra Magnus , Perceptor , and Jazz gathered around the tactical holotable.

“Replay sensor data from timestamp 0913 to 0950 hours,” Ultra Magnus ordered.

The display flickered to show overhead satellite feeds, ship-based thermal tracking, and audio recordings of the encounter. They watched the unfolding rescue, the coordination between the two vessels, the cover fire from the Prometheus, and the successful extraction of the three techno-organics.

Jazz let out a low whistle. “Damn smooth for a shakedown run.”

Perceptor nodded. “Their coordination was adaptive, responsive—fluid under pressure. An impressive demonstration of inter-crew synergy despite fragmented memory files.”

Prime watched silently until the recording ended.

“They’re not soldiers,” Prime finally said, “but they’re warriors, every one of them. Today, they proved it.”

Outside the Hangar – Gathering Point

Later that afternoon, the Techno-Organics gathered with Faulton, Sairus, and several Autobots in the courtyard between the Axalon and the Darksyde. The newcomers stood slightly apart, still adjusting, still uncertain.

Optimus Prime stepped forward. “Today, you proved that unity matters more than memory. That even in the absence of your past, you held true to your core.”

He looked to Airazor, then to Quickstrike and Depth Charge. “And you three… you chose to stand with your own, even without knowing who they were. That takes courage.”

Airazor glanced to Tigatron, who offered her a quiet, understanding nod.

Depth Charge remained silent, arms folded, but his expression was softer now.

Quickstrike looked at Rattrap and smirked. “So... you’re the smartass on the crew, huh?”

“I try,” Rattrap replied. “You’ll catch up.”

Optimus Prime turned toward Primal and Rex. “You’ve both led well. But this was only the first step. There will be more battles ahead, and more recovery to come.”

“We’re ready,” Primal said. “Whatever comes next.”

“We’ve been through worse,” Rex added. “At least now, we remember that we’re not alone.”

Hangar Interior – Ship Maintenance Continues

That evening, as the sun dipped below the trees, the crew got back to work. Tigatron and Ironhorn resumed diagnostics on the Axalon’s plasma core. Silverbolt helped Faulton and Sairus update the hull stabilization protocols. The human engineers in their exosuits—Alice and Jill—were now fully integrated into the maintenance workflow, much to Wheeljack’s enthusiastic approval.

Meanwhile, Airazor walked through the bridge of the Axalon, fingers trailing along the railings. She didn’t recognize it. But something in her spark said this place was home.

On the Darksyde, Quickstrike and Depth Charge began sorting through old crew manifests, guided by Cheetor and Rattrap.

Slowly, the pieces were coming together. Not just of their ships… but of who they were.

Chapter Text

McChord Air Force Base – Hangar 07, Noon

The rhythmic clatter of tools and servo drills echoed through the cavernous hangar as repairs resumed in full force. Panels were welded. Cables rerouted. Armor plates reinforced. The Axalon and Darksyde were beginning to resemble fully operational ships once more. Even the Autobots had started integrating systems to help synchronize defense protocols across the base and vessels.

Above them, hidden from every optic sensor and satellite sweep, they watched.

From a distant plane of perception, high above the veil of the physical world, two indistinct figures hovered in a shimmer of crackling blue energy. Their forms were unstable—shifting silhouettes made of light and gravimetric force.

The Vok.

"The convergence progresses faster than predicted," one said, its voice a mix of chimes and low pulses.

"They repair their vessels. They reforge their unity. Even now, the fragments of their past begin to realign."

"Shall we intervene?"

"Not yet. Their resilience must be measured further. Let them believe this is their triumph."

And then—just like that—the watchers faded from view.

Ground Level – Outside the Hangar

Down below, Indominus Rex was reviewing diagnostic overlays when his optics picked up something odd— Primal hauling a coolant regulator core on his own across the tarmac. The part was twice his size and three times as heavy.

“Primal,” Rex called. “You don’t need to lift that alone.”

Primal paused, arms shaking slightly under the strain. “I’ve got it.”

“Clearly,” Rex said dryly, stepping forward. He relieved Primal of the core and set it down gently beside a service rack.

“You’ve been on your feet since dawn,” Rex continued, voice low. “Not even Rattrap pushes himself this hard anymore—and that’s saying something.”

Primal sighed, his shoulders sagging. “I just… I feel like if I slow down, the past will catch up. There’s so much we still don’t know. About ourselves. About what’s watching us.”

“Which is exactly why we need to pace ourselves,” Rex said, placing a hand on Primal’s shoulder. “You’ve led us through fire, through loss… but even the strongest leaders burn out. Just for today, let yourself rest. For all of us.”

Primal looked up, his optics softening. After a moment, he nodded. “Alright… a short break.”

Promenade Field – Makeshift Courtyard

Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus stood from their watch posts on the northern ridge. Wheeljack and Ratchet, overhearing Primal’s decision, exchanged glances.

“Honestly, Prime, they’ve earned it,” Ratchet said. “All of them.”

Prime nodded. “Agreed. We’ll resume diagnostics later.”

By mid-afternoon, a wide area between the hangar bays and vehicle yards had been cleared for the crew to gather.

Matthias Faulton and Andrew Sairus , clad in their patched exosuits Alice and Jill, rolled out a set of folding tables and supply crates. With the help of a few base staff and some salvaged culinary bots, they managed to set up a makeshift cookout. Grilled sandwiches, stir-fry, potatoes, fried rice, and a pile of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for anyone wanting something quick and nostalgic.

“I didn’t think we’d be serving lunch to Transformers this year,” Andrew muttered, flipping a grilled cheese.

“Honestly, I’m more surprised Rattrap hasn’t tried to steal the cooler,” Matthias replied with a smirk.

A few yards away, Autobots gathered around refueling tanks with reinforced energon containers designed like drink coolers. Bumblebee , Jazz , and Wheeljack laughed and clanked their canisters in a toast.

“Never thought we’d be drinking energon with Predacons,” Jazz grinned. “The universe is full of surprises.”

“Cheers to second chances,” Wheeljack added.

“Cheers,” the others echoed.

At the Tables

Cheetor and Airazor sat together, each with trays of roasted veggies and grilled flatbread. Airazor poked at her meal, then looked at Cheetor.

“This… this is good,” she admitted. “I think I remember liking stuff like this before.”

Cheetor grinned. “Hey, if you remember food, that’s a start.”

A few seats away, Quickstrike slathered spicy mustard over a double cheeseburger while Rattrap glared.

“You’re a monster,” Rattrap said flatly.

“Buddy, if I could remember who I was, I’d hope he was a spice-loving outlaw like me,” Quickstrike said proudly, taking a huge bite.

On the grass, Dinobot and Depth Charge sat in silence, sharing a thermos of mineralized energon infused with crushed gemstones—an acquired taste Rex had introduced. The moment was quiet, but not tense.

Primal and Rex stood nearby, observing the crews mingling. Autobots and Techno-Organics sharing stories, even laughs.

“We needed this,” Primal murmured.

Rex nodded. “We did. And so did they.”

Far off, Faulton refilled Sairus’s coffee thermos, then leaned on the side of a repurposed vehicle hauler.

“Almost feels normal,” Faulton said. “Until you remember there’s a war going on.”

Sairus sipped his thermos. “Yeah. But for now? It’s a peace worth savoring.”

Chapter Text

McChord Air Force Base – Tech Bay 3, Simulation Lab

A low mechanical hum filled the dimly lit chamber of Simulation Lab 3, nestled within a restructured cargo hangar. The lab had become the central testing ground for experimental subsystems aboard the Axalon and Darksyde—and today, all attention was focused on one system in particular.

A glowing chamber dome hummed in the center of the room, projecting two holographic bridges—one of the Axalon, the other of the Darksyde. Seated within each cockpit were Rattrap and Red (formerly Terrorsaur), each grinning behind their pilot consoles.

The word “SIMULATION: ACTIVE” pulsed across the upper arch of the dome.

Outside the simulator, a cluster of Techno-Organic engineers gathered to observe.

Tarantulas hunched over a data console, adjusting waveform stabilizers with fingers twitching in delight.

Blackarachnia, arms crossed, monitored readings with an arched optic ridge of skepticism.

Ironhorn stood at a reinforced holo-display, thick fingers swiping through stress analysis graphs.

And Snapclaw, silent and vigilant, hovered near a structural simulator, ready to log any reaction beyond thresholds.

“All systems green,” Tarantulas cackled, teeth glinting. “Engage transwarp trial. Let’s see what these beauties can do!”

Inside the Simulation

The holographic Axalon and Darksyde roared to life within the visual matrix. Stars streaked past their virtual windows. The helms pulsed as virtual inertia pressed down on both pilots.

“Engaging Transwarp drive… now!” Rattrap called out, slamming the control panel.

A deep rumble resonated across the simulator as both ships surged forward into virtual transwarp. On the exterior monitors, space blurred into liquid light. A readout ticked upward.

Warp Factor: 1… 2… 3… 4… 5.

“Acceleration is smooth,” Red said, hands tight on the controls. “Power curve stable.”

“Nav readings good,” Rattrap added. “Drive cores are syncing with the manifold interface just fine.”

Tarantulas hissed in glee. “Yessss… Push it further!”

Warp 6… 6.5… 7…

Suddenly, alarms chirped across the nav console. Red squinted. “Vector drift. Axalon’s nose is pulling three degrees off-course.”

“I got a two-degree yaw on the Darksyde,” Rattrap responded, adjusting the inertial dampeners. “Stabilizing now.”

Outside the sim, Ironhorn barked over comms. “Field symmetry is starting to distort! Reroute nav buffers through lateral compensators!”

“Already on it,” Red muttered, tapping through calibration protocols. The vectors normalized.

Warp 8… 8.5…

Panels rattled.

“Structural stress rising,” Blackarachnia reported. “Hull pylons showing microfracture propagation!”

“Compensating!” Rattrap called out. “Diverting auxiliary power to integrity fields!”

Warp 9.4… 9.6… 9.8…

Snapclaw blinked at his monitor. “Hull strain… approaching redline. They’re past the safe limit.”

Inside the sim, the ships groaned under virtual torque. The sound of stressed alloy filled the cockpit.

“Hold together, baby, hold together!” Rattrap growled, white-knuckling the controls.

Warp 9.95… 9.98…

“Pylons are cracking!” Ironhorn shouted. “Reroute everything! Tie into main auxiliary feeds, reinforce the entire substructure!”

“Doing it!” Red snapped. “We’re almost at threshold!”

But it was too late.

CRACK—

A deafening shudder rocked both cockpits. Virtual sparks flew.

And then—
FLASH!

Both ships ruptured into plumes of virtual plasma, shattered pieces consumed by a white-hot shockwave that lit up the simulation dome.

A Second Later – Reality

The simulator powered down.

Inside, Rattrap and Red now sat stunned—on the floor. The cockpit chairs had jettisoned with the simulated explosion.

Both of them blinked, still smoking faintly from the feedback discharge.

From the sidelines, Quickstrike leaned against a control station, arms crossed. His face was stone-serious as he tilted his head at them.

“…You’re dead, partner.”

Red coughed. “Thanks, Quickstrike. Real comforting.”

Rattrap shook his head. “So… what’s the verdict, doc?”

Ironhorn exhaled, rubbing his faceplate. “You made it further than any previous sim. Warp 9.98 is almost full threshold. But the ships just aren’t designed to handle transwarp at Warp 10. The pylons crack under the field pressure—reinforcements buy time, but not enough.”

Tarantulas muttered, “We need an adaptive structural geometry. Real-time morphing hull plating, maybe incorporating chromostabilizing alloys…”

Snapclaw grunted. “Or make a containment lattice around the pylons.”

Blackarachnia crossed her arms. “Or just don’t push the ships to warp 10 like lunatics.”

“I mean,” Rattrap grinned, “you did want to see what the girls could handle.”

Red chuckled. “They almost took us to hyperspace heaven.”

Quickstrike pushed off the wall. “Well, at least now we know where the ceiling is. Now the real fun begins—figuring out how to break it.”

Rattrap looked back at the simulator.

“…Next time,” he said, “we hit Warp 10. And this time, we don’t explode.”

Chapter Text

McChord Air Force Base – Tech Bay Cafeteria

The clatter of trays and the hiss of a vintage industrial coffee machine filled the temporary tech bay cafeteria, cobbled together from surplus kitchen units and military issue mess kits. Engineers, pilots, and field crew from both the Axalon and Darksyde sat at long repurposed tables under humming ceiling lights, many still in exo suits or armor plating flecked with coolant stains and welding burns.

Seated around a central table, Matthias Faulton , Andrew Sairus , Rattrap , Red , Silverbolt , Tigatron , Ironhorn , Blackarachnia , Tarantulas , and Snapclaw leaned over schematics and heat-map graphs, coffee mugs and leftover lunch trays scattered between them.

Matthias took a sip of coffee and exhaled.

“It’s the pylons… again,” he muttered. “Every time we simulate crossing the Transwarp Threshold, the subspace torque rips off the FTL engines like they’re tin cans tied to the bumper of a wedding car.”

Tigatron, stirring his energon-tea absently, leaned in. “We could reinforce the engine pylons with a duranium alloy blend . Its structural yield is high enough to handle torquing forces—”

Tarantulas immediately shook his head. “Sorry, but no. I thought of that already. It’s too brittle. Shatters like glass under variable warp pressure. I’m not losing another simulation run to crystal shards and flying engine blocks.”

Sairus rubbed his forehead. “There’s got to be something we’re missing…”

As if on cue, Wheeljack strolled into the room, holding a cube of high-grade energon. He paused as he noticed the gathering of grim faces and cluttered holo-displays.

“Well, this looks like the table of the damned. What are you all working on?”

Matthias looked up and smirked.

“The impossible. We’re trying to break the maximum warp barrier.”

Sairus chimed in with mock seriousness. “As you know, nothing in the current universe can go Warp 10 . It’s a theoretical impossibility.”

Wheeljack tilted his head. “Warp 10… okay, so Transwarp is basically: very fast .”

Silverbolt nodded thoughtfully. “Warp 10 is infinite velocity . You’d occupy every point in the known universe simultaneously. Time and space would have no meaning. If the Axalon and Darksyde could achieve it… we could be on the other side of the Andromeda Galaxy in the time it takes to push a button. The Decepticons wouldn’t be able to find us for centuries… maybe even indefinitely .”

Rattrap leaned forward, eyes sharp. “While we were going over the engine core settings on both ships, we found out they’ve got Transwarp-capable engines . Fully functional designs. But we’re stuck on how to get ‘em to work right .”

Wheeljack scratched his chin. “That reminds me of a time I was on an Autobot patrol ship. We flew through a dark matter nebula , and I watched one of our engines get ripped off from the hull due to build-up from ambient stress fields. Weirdest thing I ever saw. Maybe the same thing’s happening to you guys in your sims?”

Tarantulas shook his head again, lips twitching in irritation. “No, I’m not sure that’s it. The sims showed no stress readings like that on the engines. The engine casings remained stable. It’s always the connection between them and the main hull that fails.”

Sairus suddenly went still. His coffee mug paused halfway to his lips.

“…Wait,” he said slowly. “What about the ships themselves?”

Tarantulas blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

Sairus set the mug down. His eyes sharpened.

“What if we’ve been looking at this from the wrong angle? What if it’s not the engines being torn from the ships… but the ships being torn from the engines?”

Everyone froze for a beat.

Silverbolt’s optics widened as realization struck. “Of course! The hull of both ships is composed of Tritanium Alloy …”

Sairus nodded, excited now. “At those speeds, the subspace forces being exerted on the main fuselage could cause the molecular field alignment of the tritanium to depolarize !”

“That would create a velocity differential,” Silverbolt continued. “The engines would maintain one acceleration curve… while the rest of the ship begins to move faster!”

“And the stress from that would snap the pylons like dried circuits,” Sairus finished.

“Then all we need to do,” Silverbolt concluded, “is set up an anti-depolarization matrix around the fuselage of both ships. Something that preserves molecular polarity under duress.”

Tarantulas began muttering calculations. “It could work… It just might work…”

Snapclaw raised a digit. “We’d need to sync it with internal compensators. Maybe even redesign the pylon mounting interface...”

Blackarachnia grinned slightly. “Well, someone buy that man a refill. He just solved our little problem.”

The entire group shot to their feet, dishes forgotten, and began scrambling for tablets, schematic tools, and comms access to the simulator chamber.

“Back to the lab!” Rattrap yelled, already halfway out the door.

Red followed behind him. “Let’s see if we can break the universe on purpose this time!”

As the team stampeded out of the cafeteria, Wheeljack stood blinking in the silence.

He rubbed the back of his helm.

“…No problem. Glad to help… even though I have no idea what you guys just said.”

He took another sip from his energon cube and muttered, “Techno-organics are crazy.”