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Darkness, Ch. 11: The Bar Chapter“Alright, I doubt Ratchet would want us spreading news of you around, so we’re keeping this quiet,” Misdirect said, “One drink, a few peeks around, and then we leave. With any luck, no one will even notice me, the toolbox, or you.” He entered the bar. The place sure sounded incredibly popular; It was noisy, and the casual chatter was unmistakable even if in a language I could not understand. I took a quick peek. The room was big, there were tables sprinkled around, some seating groups of bots of all sizes and colors, and along the wall I even spotted some booths, very similar to what would be in a restaurant. It was weird, seeing so many robots conversing and laughing. They looked so animated: alive. Directly ahead of us looked uncannily like an actual bar. A giant counter stretched across from wall to wall with bar stool-like chairs spaced out evenly in front of it. Behind the bar, the wall was filled with various bottles of liquid, and at the very center were four huge glass tubes sporting their own mysterious colored liquids. “What do you guys drink?” I ducked back down. After a moment I felt the box get set down, my back resting flat on the bottom. Misdirect’s voice came from my left, “It's engex, a type of energon, basically fuel. Just a bit more potent.” “Could I try some?” “It would probably kill you.” “Excuses.” Someone called something out in Cybertronian nearby and I nearly jumped. Above me, Misdirect cursed. “What—?” “Quiet quiet!” He whispered, “I’ll handle it, hold on.” Doing my best to keep out of sight I listened as he conversed with the bot in Cybertronian. After a bit, I was picking up that the new bot seemed particularly chatty, and even though I didn't understand a word they said I could tell that Misdirect was struggling to keep up. After a particularly intense and quick back-and-forth between them, Misdirect suddenly groaned as if in defeat and the conversation stopped. The rest of the bar continued in its noisy chatter. “This is what you’re hiding?” An entirely new voice said, “A language? What's the big deal?” The new voice sounded maybe in his thirties and very conversational, the type of person who oozed charisma. Reminded me a bit like a standup comedian. I bolted upright, being careful to stay out of view. What in the world was Misdirect doing? “You got what you asked for, now shoo,” Misdirect tried to dismiss the new bot, but even I could admit threats weren’t his strong suit. Apparently, the new bot was also less than swayed, “So what’s in the box?” “Nothing,” Misdirect said. “Lemmie look then.” “No.” “Have you lost a circuit?” The new bot asked, “C’mon what’s in the box?” I couldn’t resist any longer, carefully I peeked. My box had been set on the massive counter resembling a bar. With Misdirect having taken a seat near the wall, there was no one else around us, besides of course, the charismatic stranger. Standing behind the bar was a bright red robot, a bit stout and squarish, with a blue visor over his eyes. He noticed me immediately. “Kathrine!” Misdirect pushed me back down out of view, causing me to land on my knees rather roughly. There was a long stretch of awkward silence. “An organic?” The new bot finally said. “Look, just forget it.” “It is, isn't it?” The new bot pushed, “There’s an organic in that box. Hold on! Is this its language? Is that who you were talking to?” Misdirect groaned again. “You got a pet?” I peeked up again, “Actually, I’m not-” “You’re not helping!” Misdirect pushed me back down, and I swatted at his hand. Hitting his metal hand made my fingers sting. “It talks?” The new bot said, sounding nervous now, “I swear, on my spark, I was only kidding about the language thing. I was just having a laugh, you know me, classic Swerve, having a laugh. But if it talks, does that mean—?” “Just keep your mouth shut, ok?” Misdirect hissed, “Last thing I need is you telling the whole ship before we even make it back to the medbay, Ratchet will literally dismantle my spark.” I took another peek and the bot’s face lit up, “Is this a secret? I’m great with secrets! Master secret keeper right here, not a word will slip out, not a’one.” Misdirect did not respond. “Alright alright,” The new bot relented, “Maybe I’m not so good with secrets. Can’t blame me though, I’m just the humble barkeep. Overhearing and spreading the news is my job.” “Swerve, I swear-” the threat wasn’t finished, instead Misdirect’s anger faded into weariness, “Look, her life could depend on you keeping this thing quiet. Say what you want about it in a dozen or so solar cycles, but for now, please don’t spread this around.” Swerve’s charisma seemed to drop a peg, and suddenly he looked uncomfortable, maybe even a bit guilty, “Her life you say?” Smile now set in a frown, he took a few moments to look at me. I couldn’t make out his eyes behind the thick visor. “Suppose I could keep it to myself for now,” he was still frowning, “If it’s really that serious. But come on, just spill a little? No? At least let me extend a warm Cybertronian greeting, don’t make me look rude.” Taking my cue, I stood up in the box a bit more. Misdirect did not intervene. The new bot’s smile grew even wider, “Why hello… erm, organic. Name’s Swerve, welcome to the bar.” “Kathrine,” I nodded. “Oh… hm. So close,” Swerve rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, “It’s Swerve. My name is Swerve. Say it with me now: Swwweeeerrrvvveee,” When I failed to join in, he looked at Misdirect for help, “Should I go down a frequency? Maybe she can’t hear me?” “My name’s Kathrine,” I clarified, I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or what. “I heard you. Nice to meet you, Swerve.” “Ah,” he actually seemed a bit embarrassed, his grin wavered. “She uh… She seems pretty intelligent, you know, like sentient and all that.” He leaned closer to Misdirect, “So is this smuggling, or?” “Get me an engex spritzer,” Misdirect said, face resting defeated in his cupped hands. Swerve got to work, pulling up a large glass as if on autopilot. “In my defense, it’s just starting to look to me like you’ve got an actual, bonafide organic onboard. A genuine, planet-based, organic. You can’t blame me for feeling a bit… concerned.” He gave Misdirect the side-eye as he filled the glass with pale green liquid from the wall. It looked like watery shampoo to me, or like the jugs of antifreeze outside of gas stations. They weren’t drinking antifreeze, were they? “It’s complicated,” Misdirect said. “I thought we were keeping this on the down-low,” I finally piped up. “We were,” Misdirect sounded particularly miserable, “He threatened to bring more bots over to take a look if I didn’t share. I thought your language would be enough to get him to go away.” Swerve smiled back brightly, “What can I say, I’m a real charmer.”~~~~~ “No no no no no,” Swerve explained, a grin plastered across his face, “It’s not my bar, I’m bar-sitting, keeping it warm, that’s all. One day I’ll have my own bar. You see, Blurr—that's what I’m gonna call him, mmkay?— a bot named Blurr, way way way back agreed we’d set up a bar all our own. He’d do the music, and I’d do the…the,” He scratched his head with a stout four-fingered hand, “Well, I suppose I’d be doing the rest.” He flashed his palms as if presenting something grand, “Swerve and Blurr’s. Blurr and Swerve’s, either way. That’s what we planned to call it.” I tried to nod along the best I could, I didn’t want to seem rude, but my cheeks were starting to ache at holding my forced smile. He had been talking nonstop for the past few minutes, I couldn't even remember how we had gotten on the topic, “Cool. Um, so whose bar is it then? The one you’re bar-sitting for?” I probably shouldn't have been encouraging this extremely one-sided conversation, but I found myself genuinely curious. I couldn’t imagine that anyone else here could fit the description of giant-robot bar owner; This stocky red guy had been pouring all the drinks and doing all the talking since we arrived. Maybe he was just an employee? “Oh, it's, uh, well it’s…” he actually looked stumped, “Hold on. Let me remember. I was talking to…I was walking down—ages ago, this was ages ago—I think it was with Atomizer, and he said— ah no, silly, it was Trailbreaker. He said to me, ‘Swerve’ just like that, he said, ‘Swerve, I could really go for an energon spritzer and a shot of nightmare fuel right about now,’ and so I said,” Swerve set a large sparkling glass on the counter and reached for another dirty glass, “I said ‘down on bay 5, big room, empty, it’s perfect for a bar, you should start one!’ And I suppose one thing led to another.” “So he’s your boss?” I leaned over the lip of the box to take another look, but the only bot I could spot behind the bar was still just Swerve. “Ah, he doesn’t stick around too often, It’s usually just me running things. And not to be charmingly modest here, but he’s not my boss,” he pointed a thumb at his chest, one hand still holding the glass, “We’re partners, co-owners, but really it was his idea, so it’s his bar. I just got it open and running. I’m just the setting-up guy, the getting-things-all-in-order guy, you see? “So, like you take shifts? One day he works, the other day you do?” “Nah, it’s just been me.” I tried to keep my expression blank, “Has he ever helped out? At all?”“There’s not much to keep up with,” Swerve dismissed, “I don’t mind.” I felt like I was talking in circles. “So it sounds like it’s your bar. You started it, you’re running it by yourself.” “No no no no, I’m keeping it warm for him, remember? That was the plan. I get it going and-” He continued to ramble. I rubbed my eyes. “He’s been saying that since we left Cybertron,” Misdirect leaned in to whisper, “First it was Chromedome, then Whirl, then Trailbreaker; Swerve’s story keeps changing.” “So it is Swerve’s bar then,” I whispered back. Swerve had yet to notice that I was no longer paying attention. “Try telling him that. It’s been driving Magnus up the walls: he’s been trying to shut it down for ages now, but he can’t without proving the owner doesn't have a bar license. And according to Swerve, Swerve isn't the one who owns the bar.” “Oh, that’s pretty clever,” I said. Misdirect held up a palm as if to caution me, “Don’t give him that much credit.” “Also,” I asked with an eyebrow raised and heavy use of finger quotes, “My life depends on it?” “I had to exaggerate, otherwise He wouldn’t have taken it seriously.” He made a noise like he was clearing his throat, “Ok, well this has been great as always,” He told Swerve as he rose from his seat, grabbing the toolbox in the process. I struggled to get a grip in time and nearly fell. “But, we probably should be going. Don’t forget your promise: keep this quiet,” Misdirect pivoted around. A few jovial Cybertronains huddled in a small boisterous group, suddenly drifted our way. And by drifted, I of course meant one bot lurched out, directly in Misdirect’s way. “Slag!” Misdirect cursed, and with a deafening Bang, he collided with the bot. Everything in my view spun out of control. I had been dropped, I realized. Weightlessness washed over me and I drifted up out of the toolbox partially, fingers clamped on the edge as the floor rose to meet me. The box bounced, and I was flipped over with it, the motion flinging me around inside. With a horrible screech, the box slammed on its side and slid across the floor, me somehow still inside. My head made a solid crack against the bottom of the box when everything came to a sudden halt. I collapsed to the ground with a groan. I opened my eyes when a shadow loomed across the ground in front of me and fighting back both dizziness and pain I crawled from the box. “Misdirect?” I called. Now out of the box, I turned to look up. The first thing I noticed was a single blue robotic foot resting atop the box, apparently having stomped on it to stop it mid-slide. I was about to fuss at him for my resulting bruise and my throbbing head when the rest of him came into focus. An incredibly tall robot stared down, he had a blue helmet-like head with some sort of face-plate instead of a mouth, and his blue eyes studied me with imposing intensity. It was not Misdirect. I felt my stomach hollow out, though I wasn’t sure if it was from fear or from the dizziness my aching head sent at me in waves. Either way, when the new robot crouched suddenly as if to get a closer look at me, I let out a shrill gasp and lurched back into the box. It felt like my world was spinning and I clutched my head, praying that Misdirect would come save me soon. Everything shifted and I snapped my attention to the walls around me, a large metal thumb appeared as a giant hand grasped my box, and then everything began to tilt. I was being picked up, he was picking me up. How would I explain who I was, what I was doing here? Or, what if he looked at me the way Ultra Magnus had done? What if Misdirect didn’t explain in time? I ungracefully shifted as the box slowly turned the correct way up. Using my throbbing head as an excuse to avoid acknowledging the new bot, I curled in on myself, holding my head in my hands, and legs drawn to my chest. “I have her,” a low rumble of a voice came from above me. I was certain we hadn’t met before, and yet I was now getting the strongest feeling he knew who I was. He had called me ‘her.’ He had not even asked any questions yet, none about what or who I was, or what was going on. Had I met him before? There was no way I would’ve forgotten meeting him: I would have remembered the initial panic attack. How would he know about me? Rumors? Was he sent by Ratchet? I racked my brain for an explanation. “Kathrine!” Misdirect’s voice called. I was still too dizzy to stand, but turns out I didn’t need to. Just as I finally unfolded to look upwards, I found myself scooped out of the box by a giant hand. If it wasn't for the initial burst of paralyzing shock, I probably would have screamed. “Primus, I’m so sorry Kathrine, are you hurt? Are you ok? Should I get Ratchet?” Misdirect had me now, I realized in a wave of relief. He was clearly on the verge of panicking. “I'm fine!” I shook my head feverishly at his question, whilst simultaneously clutching at the fingers wrapped around my waist. He was being gentle, but boy, being held felt alarming. It was surreal to see giant metal fingers wrapped around me. I heard a clunk as the toolbox was set aside by the stranger. Images of one of my friend’s pet birds came to mind. What had he called it? Scooping up the bird like a lil ice cream cone? Yeah, that was what he would say as he held the parakeet up for us to see. The bird seemed to enjoy it, but now finding myself as an ice cream cone myself, It seemed far less fun. As if things had not gotten chaotic enough, the door to the bar slid open with a hiss, and the silence that had resulted from Misdirect’s tumble seemed to now grow unnaturally deeper. The massive form of Ultra Magnus filled the doorframe, and as he strutted in stiffly, the crowded room made plenty of space for him, I even saw some bots escape quickly out the door behind him. My initial burst of dread was from the assumption that he had been sent by Ratchet, and when he immediately set his stern attention on me, I prepared for the worst. He walked forward with a curt nod, “Optimus,” he addressed the bot standing at Misdirect’s side who had picked up my box. When Magnus’s eyes flickered back to me he gave a small nod as well, “Misdirect. Kathrine.” I at first thought I hadn’t heard him right. Optimus, as in Optimus Prime? It was as if time had crawled to a halt. The commander, the guy in charge, the one everyone had mentioned since I’d arrived on this horrible ship. That's who had helped me? The bot standing right next to us? I suddenly felt incredibly nervous. Magnus passed us, and to my surprise instead zeroed in on the now very nervous red bot behind the bar. “Magnus!” Swerve said without missing a beat, “What's new?” The behemoth scowled at Swerve, resting both massive hands flat on the bar. He loomed over the smaller bot. I was a little surprised that Swerve had chosen to remain speaking in English. Maybe he forgot, or perhaps he thought that Magnus would go easier on him with an audience. “I talked to Trailbreaker,” Magnus growled, “He doesn’t know anything about the ‘ownership’ of this bar, and I assure you, he does not have a license even if he did.” I doubted they could sweat, but Swerve looked mighty nervous. His smile flickered, “Ah! No luck again? You know-” “Sir.” Magnus interrupted. “Um, my bad. Sir, you know how memory is, such an awfully unreliable thing. Just a few cycles ago I completely misplaced my—” “Swerve.” Magnus’s scowl somehow grew deeper. “Right, right,” Swerve mumbled, he then snapped his fingers, “Did I say Trailbreaker? I believe I’ve misremembered. Uh, I’m almost certain it was actually Atomizer. That’s right, he was with us. Trailbreaker brought it up, but Atomizer, yeah I’m certain, Atomizer was the one who came up with the whole bar idea. Really then it’s his bar, I told you, I’m just-” “Atomizer is on a mission off the Ark.” “Really? Must have slipped my mind, explains why he hasn’t been around then, right? He should be back on board, what? In a century or two? You can ask him about bar licenses then, I can’t say I ever asked, I’m sure he’s got it all in order; he was a real trustworthy guy, most honest bot I’ve ever met.” There was a long stretch of silence. “This mess is unacceptable,” Magnus said eventually, “Clean it up or I’ll shut you down for failing to uphold section eight, paragraph two: Cleanliness Guidelines,” he turned away from Swerve and nodded to Optimus when he passed, “I’ll get to the bottom of this, Prime. I appreciate your assistance.” With that, he stormed out of the room, and it was as if the air gave a sigh of relief. “Oi, Misdirect!” Swerve called, “Not to be an inconsiderate host, but get your aft over here and clean up your mess. I consider all my promises null if this place gets canned.” Sure enough, cups, stools, and various other amenities had been knocked to the floor where Misdirect had apparently attempted to catch himself. I spotted at least two other bots still trying to get to their feet, apparently having been halted by Magnus’s interruption. “Give me a second,” Misdirect said before turning back to us, “I’ll be right back, keep an eye on her.” I watched in horror as the commander cupped his hands. Before I could protest, Misdirect’s grip loosened and I slid abruptly onto the awaiting palms. The metal remained steady beneath me, and Optimus made no attempt to close his hands around me. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood and finally willed myself to look up. I immediately wished I hadn't. The commander equaled Ratchet with his dissecting gaze, but where Ratchet seemed satiated with a glance or two, I was under the full attention of Optimus. I knew coming here was a bad idea, I wish we had just gone back to the medbay, away from all the scary giant robots, away from their literal war commander. “Kathrine, It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the low rumble came from him. I noticed his face plate was now gone, revealing a mouth. I couldn’t help but shiver. He could probably feel every movement, every shift I made while in his hands. Feeling stiff and uncomfortable, I attempted to sit with the least amount of physical contact possible. “I heard a noise,” he continued on, undaunted by my silence, “Are you in any pain? Should I get Ratchet?” I realized he must have been referring to the lovely sound my skull had made when it collided with the toolbox after the fall. On impulse I touched my head tenderly; a goose egg was already forming and I could barely touch it without provoking electric shocks of pain. But bruises were bruises, and I had survived worse. I shook my head, but I couldn’t find my words. I felt my heart throb in my chest, and I realized my hands were shaking. I couldn’t help but anticipate his grip closing down around me. I was going to kill Misdirect, leaving me here with their commander, literally dumping me in his hands. “You must be uncomfortable, my bad,” Optimus said quickly. We zoomed forward as he walked towards the now empty bar, and despite my fear, I grabbed at the hands beneath me, trying to keep myself steady. My legs shook as I slipped from his hands onto the bar, descending until I was sitting on solid ground. A massive metal chest swept into my view as the commander took a seat in front of me. This was worse than meeting Ratchet. “Is that any better?” the commander asked. Barely, but I nodded anyway. What was he going to do to me? Misdirect said he was nice, but this was their big man in charge, wouldn't he want to do what's best for his people? No way some war-torn race of giant robots were altruistic for the sheer sake of it. Why care about the tiny organic who was messing things up? Why not hide her away? Shove her in a cell, kill her? I felt my heart rate pick up. Was that what he was here to do? Was he here to see if I was worth saving, or if I was more useful in a jar on Ratchet’s desk? He looked at me like I was a puzzle he couldn't figure out, “Is there something wrong?” “I don’t want to be put in a jar,” I blurted, despite my better judgment. “A…jar?” Now it was clear I had properly confused him, “I don’t think I understand.” “I’m sorry!” I said, “I didn’t mean to get on your ship and cause problems, I swear. My dad, he’s probably working on getting me back, I-I’m sorry about you losing your power, I swear they didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I’m certain. I just want to get back home, that's all. I-I-I just, please I don’t want to be locked a-away, or dissected, we can send any information you want, I-I-I—” I tried to stop my stuttering, but I was shaking so bad now I wasn’t sure if that was even possible. The commander had an unreadable expression as I spoke. He didn’t interrupt, instead he waited with seemingly infinite patience as my stuttering drifted to a halt. I sniffed, wiping my nose on my jacket sleeve. God, this wasn’t going well. “I think,” he said apologetically, “You misunderstand.” “I understand, I do, I really do,” my voice pitched. “I-I don’t care what you do to me,” I lied, “Please, just give me the truth, just tell me what’s going to happen to me. I need to know.” For a beat he studied me, then there was a weary sigh. “Kathrine,” his expression changed, “Young one. You are not in danger, you have my word. We will do everything we can to send you home, alive and well,” there was sympathy in his voice, a tone not unlike the way my father had comforted me when I was very small. I blinked. That was… not what I expected. He was serious about getting me home? It seemed like he meant it. I felt my face contort against my will as I held back tears, and for a moment I teetered on the brink of sobbing. I forced myself to keep it together. “Unless,” he added, “You particularly like jars.” Swallowing hard, I pushed my tears down, nodding as I sloppily wiped my eyes with my palms. “No jars,” I confirmed. I wiped my nose again, and after collecting myself further I looked back up. Despite my effort, my voice hitched as I spoke, “Are you going to close down the bar?” Though he did not smile, the corners of his eyes crinkled in good humor, “Finding yourself concerned for Swerve?” he asked. I nodded. “I have no intention to close the bar down,” he admitted, looking past me as if studying the wall of strange liquids behind the bar, “And I doubt Ultra Magnus will find sufficient reason to do so anytime soon.” He seemed to pick up on my confusion, “You’re wondering why I haven’t stepped in?” “Magnus seems pretty bent on it,” I said. “I’ve received at least three reports from him daily concerning Swerve’s bar since its opening,” He said. “You’re ignoring him?” “He needs the distraction,” Optimus clarified, “We all do.” He then nodded towards Swerve and Misdirect who were still hastily picking up the mess, “They need a place where they can forget the war, and Ultra Magnus needs to stay busy. In his own way, he needs the bar to exist just as much as Swerve does.” “What about you?” I couldn’t help but ask. “And I…” he mused for a moment. “It was a coincidence I was here to meet you and Misdirect, I was planning to visit you in the medbay.” I let myself relax a bit, “You’re implying we caught you partying?” “I don’t join in,” he reassured, “But I enjoy seeing them all, my crew: it reminds me how things were before.” Before the war. I finished in my head. I looked around me, The edges of the room were slowly filling back up with boisterous noise, a few bots had even approached the bar again. I watched the alien crew converse, laugh, and drink. Some groups appeared to be enjoying calm conversation, while other clusters of bots bumped and prodded each other jovially. It reminded me of my own friends. I missed all the inside jokes we had and the intense cafeteria debates. I could also see my brother, David, and I, as we hollered out our favorite songs in the kitchen when dad would work late and I had to make dinner. Or, when David would have a nightmare and I’d read him stories until he fell back asleep, or until the sun finally rose. “I think I understand,” I said. A shadow from the ceiling flung itself at me, knocking me flat on my back.~~~Awfully close by, and minutes before~~~POV: A Stranger No no no no! He took an unsteady step back, revulsion racing through him. This was wrong! It had to be! There was supposed to be an Autobot secret, some hidden artifact, at the end of this trail. He had followed the energy to its source, even tailing the organic below, but he had stumbled across nothing. If the Decepticons found out about him disobeying orders… Focus! He scanned the area, searching for any thread to pull on that could save his doomed spark. And to his luck, he found it. He felt something he seldom experienced: embarrassment. He had been so absorbed in his new task, and so dismissive of the organic, that he failed to notice a small but constant buzzing coming from the creature. The organic had a device that had been sending out a continuous signal, searching for connection. The Autobot ship seemed to have already whitelisted the signal, letting it pass through freely so as not to continually set off alarms. There wasn’t much he could do from this distance, but with a little prodding, he managed to formulate his own signal, matching it, and pairing with the device seamlessly. Tentatively he pushed, and the paper-thin security accepted him immediately. Suddenly he had access to the organic’s whole device. And to his sheer surprise, the organic was more than just a mindless pet. It had a language. It was actually involved in all these events. He had recorded everything, he always did, and hastily he brought up each recording, filtering them through the organic’s language. The shock lasted for a full minute. It was ludicrous, so unbelievably ridiculous he ran through all the recordings again, just to be sure he had heard them right. So these small organics had somehow managed to capture quantum travel. And then they apparently had managed to screw it up immediately. But it was a lie, he realized. Slowly the pieces fell into place, and the discovery was nearly as shocking as the situation itself: in the energy signature from the organics’ machine, hidden well underneath, there was something Cybertronian. It explained how such a dull race had made such a scientific leap while still using primitive technology, it explained why things had gone as wrong as they had, and most importantly, explained why the readings he had picked up felt so familiar. He didn’t care how the organics had gotten into possession of Cybertronian tech; it was inevitable that some backwards species would manage to stumble upon the remnants left over from their drifting war. All that really mattered to him were the readings themselves. The structure he was piecing together from the signature wasn't anything he could easily decipher, it was ancient in fact, something reminiscent of the golden age perhaps, or maybe even earlier. Powerful though, ancient and undeniably powerful. Imagination had never been his strong suit, but assessing risk absolutely was, and there was no greater prize than delivering to Megatron, a relic. In a flicker of amusement, he understood now, that the complex signal from the organic’s machine had not been trying to hide this secret prize beneath its nonsensical coded garbage, in reality, that garbage was legitimately the organics’ best attempt at building off of such an advanced framework. It was repulsive. Had he the ability to gag, he surely would have. The organics had taken superior, perfect, cybertronian tech, and had put their filth all over it. They were trying to twist and warp it to their flawed understanding, not even realizing how unworthy they were. How dare they. He felt a familiar rage fill his spark. And the Autobots were helping this organic. He expected treachery from them, but nothing nearly this severe. It wasn't just betraying Cybertron, it was betraying their species as a whole. It was only a matter of time before they too came to this realization, if they hadn’t already. Even he had to admit their scientists weren't idiots. But he doubted the revelation would persuade the Autobots to just kill the thing and hunt down its planet. If they had their way, they’d probably send the insect back, and delete the coordinates, keeping both them and the Decepticons from tracking down their stolen property. Not on his watch. A packet of information was swiftly assembled, everything he thought Megatron would find useful, and then some. But the information was far too big for the organic’s primitive device to handle wirelessly, or at least, it would take far too long. He needed a direct connection to it. And then, in a move spurred on only by his sheer disgust and anger, he recklessly leaped from his perch. With any luck, the Autobots wouldn’t kill him. His front paws connected with the fragile tissue of the organic. It crumpled under him, barely emitting a sound. He located the device, tearing it from its fabric housing on the organic’s clothing. His teeth clamped down into the device, expertly forging a connection. He had to get his signal through. The organic was struggling now, parts of its skin were pungent and red, but he had hardly any time to savor it. The sound of a blaster rang in his sensors. The device fell from his mouth as the shot threw him off the organic. He was running out of time. Satisfaction flickered through him. He could have been a smoldering heap of scrap right now, but whoever released the shot had fired to stun him: they had pulled their punch for the sake of the organic. It was predictably pathetic. He leapt back to his paws, ignoring the organic and its shrill screeches, and instead scooped up the fallen device once more. In the exact instant the Autobot leader’s hand crashed into him he pushed through the device the strongest signal he could muster, and as he had predicted, the Autobots’ security did nothing to stop the message. Now being pinned to the table by the Autobot commander, with a force that nearly cracked his frame, he grinned. The organic’s device had spun from his mouth once more and sparing no hesitation, the Autobot leader’s fist smashed down on top of it, pulverizing the primitive device in one blow, effectively cutting off his signal. But it was too late, far too late. The signal would be received; the Decepticons would be on their way. And despite himself, he laughed....
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SG Prime, Vol 3 - 42 by SoundBluster
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Autobot Deepdish by Jeetdoh Autobot Deepdish :iconjeetdoh:Jeetdoh 655 28 King Grimlock by AlexHorley King Grimlock :iconalexhorley:AlexHorley 218 13 SWEET by MEGA1126 SWEET :iconmega1126:MEGA1126 68 7 [Com] Stardust by auto-manic [Com] Stardust :iconauto-manic:auto-manic 109 19 Primus the Creator (Secret Santa) by SoundBluster Primus the Creator (Secret Santa) :iconsoundbluster:SoundBluster 233 70 bumbleking by kidknux bumbleking :iconkidknux:kidknux 18 0 TFAnimated - Vagabond by MaryDec TFAnimated - Vagabond :iconmarydec:MaryDec 20 5 Constructicons by CrimeRoyale Constructicons :iconcrimeroyale:CrimeRoyale 18 3 Merry Christmas Transformers by victoriadelgadomende Merry Christmas Transformers :iconvictoriadelgadomende:victoriadelgadomende 5 0 Glass Robots - Commission by dannii-jo Glass Robots - Commission :icondannii-jo:dannii-jo 85 9
Literature
TFP - The Bond Between Man and Machine (CH12)
Predatory Part 2
Night
Justin and Jack
Warning: Torture
Justin/My Pov
I could hear Arcee scream out all the way from here. My mind was telling me she was dead or something really bad happen, after my failed attempt to kill Airachnid, me and Jack had no choice but to run for our lives. The sun had set and now it was dark out we've been running for lives from a crazy spiderbot huntress who wants our heads as part of her sick collection. Although I have to admit, she not that bad looking, me personally, I thinks she pretty, in a psycho kind of way, but pretty none the less.
Me and Jack came to a stop to catch our breath. "So what's the plan, we...keep...running...until...we...call...for...help" Jack said in between breaths.
We had to think of something, or end up on Airachnid's wall. Just the thought alone creeped me outk
"Jack, I think...Airachnid's ship...is.
:iconJustinTheSpider:JustinTheSpider
:iconjustinthespider:JustinTheSpider 6 0
Literature
TFP - The Bond Between Man and Machine (CH10)
Speed Metal
Mid April
After School
'Another day, another non eventful day at school' Jack thought to himself as he headed down the school steps and headed for Arcee. Arcee of coarse was in her alt form waiting for Jack. Jack loved it when Arcee was waiting for him and not busy on missions. Jack wasted no time hoping on Arcee and backed out of the parking lot and headed home. Jack thought that this day was going to be alright, but life had something else in mind.
"Hey, cherry moped" a red haired teen said leaning on his car. The Kid was known only as Vince. The high school bully. A well-known asshole who doesn't care about others, except him. He always finds pleasure in putting others down even with the smallest of insults. Jack was about to prove him wrong.
"Uh this 'Moped' has duel carbs, and can go 0-60 in 3.5 seconds." Jack said has he drove off. Jack learned it's better it just ignore the bullies and just
:iconJustinTheSpider:JustinTheSpider
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Literature
TFP - The Bond Between Man and Machine (CH9)
Fun at Base
Takes place after Deus Ex Machina
My Pov
After the crazy events that happen in this past week I say we all need a break.
First was the Dingus Convoy. So here's how that day went, first Fowler came in through a call about some 'Cons' shooting him out of the sky, and were after the Dingus, some device that could go nuclear, He wanted it to be bridge to base, but Optimus said that if it went off it could slow radiate the whole planet. Luckily, Optimus had a better plan, which involved a convoy with all the bots protecting it, he was using his trailer to transport it. The drive seemed to be going well until all of these green and black cars started to show up, the men that were driving were wearing suits and masks that covered everything, they all looked the same. They pointed guns at the truck. And at that time Fowler received a call from their leader who goes by the name: Silas. He wanted to take th
:iconJustinTheSpider:JustinTheSpider
:iconjustinthespider:JustinTheSpider 4 0
Literature
TFP - The Bond Between Man and Machine (CH8)
Con Job
Story Pov
Today was a nice quiet day at base with nothing to do as the humans and bots did there things and jobs. Justin and G-Force were playing video games while Jack and Raf were doing homework. While Miko looked like she was nowhere to be found, she was with Bulkhead, helping him do chores around base, she along with her Mass Shifter help Bulkhead do the chores big and small. After it was all done, they headed back to the main area where Miko decide to ride on Bulkhead shoulders.
"Alright, chores are done. Now can we go dune bashing?" Miko asked wanting to get out of base.
"I don't know Miko. Last time I spent a week picking sand out of my articulators. But there's a monster truck rally in town." Bulkhead replied. Miko liked being on Bulkhead's shoulders. Of course she wouldn't mind if she walked beside him using her 'Mass Shifter' that Justin made for the humans. 'I wonder if Bulkhead will let me ride on his shoulders whe
:iconJustinTheSpider:JustinTheSpider
:iconjustinthespider:JustinTheSpider 5 0
Literature
TFP - The Bond Between Man and Machine (CH7)
New Upgrades
Friday
Two Days after the whole scraplet infestation, things where back to normal to say the least. But since today was my day off I decide to spend it at base, with G-Force. It was about 1:00 Pm (Because I wake up late). And we have just arrived at base where there was only Ratchet and no one else. Ratchet was busy on the console working on something, which we did not care. As I headed up the stairs to the TV Area, I put down my backpack and took out my Ps4 along with all the wires and cables and two controllers.
"Hurry up man, its Double XP this weekend" G-Force said standing by the railing.
"Dude be patient Im trying to rush to you know" I said plugging in the HDMI and Power cable in to console and then the TV and outlet. "Don't worry both controllers are charged so, we got about a few hours with these" I said. I took out Call of Duty Advanced Warfare. "You ready for this?"
"Oh Yeah" G-Force nodded.
Later
:iconJustinTheSpider:JustinTheSpider
:iconjustinthespider:JustinTheSpider 3 1
Literature
TFP - The Bond Between Man and Machine (CH6)
Scrapheap
March
Story Pov
A month after the Autobots destroyed the Space Bridge, stopping Megatron's plans, and saving the earth, they knew that Starscream was out there along with the rest of the Decepticon armada and who knows what other Decepticons were out there in the vastness of space. Two days ago which was Thursday, The rest of the kids were at the Autobot base while I was stuck with work. Basically what G-force told me was that, while I was at work, the kids were with the guardians helping them with their school projects which was due Friday, in the mists of all that Starscream tried to bring back a Con that was locked away in stasis, dude by the name of Skyquake. Anyways, long story short, he's dead.
Today was different, reason why, I don't have to work on the weekends. Anyways G-Force had picked me up along with Bulkhead who picked up Miko and Jack, and Bumblebee who had Raf. They all picked us up
:iconJustinTheSpider:JustinTheSpider
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We are Autobots, Decepticons and outcasts that live together in peace. No matter what generation you hail from, you are welcome here. This Group is for those that love Transformers, our goal is to promote the best the fandom has to offer. Welcome!

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Crystal Empire is here! Based some what on transformers Cyberverse!
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:icondogsofmischief99:
DogsOfMischief99 Featured By Owner Mar 17, 2022  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Hey, I just tried to join you guys, but I have this message saying that I have an outstanding join request with this group, I don't know what that means. Am I the only one with this issue?
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:iconcypreus-and-willow:
Cypreus-and-Willow Featured By Owner Sep 14, 2020  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for requesting my drawing :D
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Cookie-Waffle Featured By Owner Jan 13, 2020  Student Digital Artist
could you add a folder for botbots? I have nowhere to submit fanart of them :/
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joshy256789 Featured By Owner Oct 28, 2019   Artist
can someone vote my stories please.
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:icond-71:
D-71 Featured By Owner Mar 7, 2019
Mini montage videos/gifs/art Transformers coub.com/transformers-world
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