Optimus part Two.

Optimus, Ironhide and Road Rage drove down the gravel driveway towards the abandoned farm house. Waves appeared over the dry grass as the wind blew. White smoke trailed behind the three as they passed the half-demolished building, continuing towards the barn. The area was barren even during the summer, but as winter approached, it became totally lifeless. Rusty old wheels and farm equipment leaned against the barn as nature slowly overtook them. A weathervane squealed on top of the rusty red barn. Optimus slowed at the door, then accelerated to push it open. The three vehicles drove in. Outside, the barn was dilapidated and aging, inside it was reinforced with brand new wood beams, and the entire floor was lowered into a large room that extended beyond the footprint of the barn itself. The Autobots continued down a dirt ramp into the crudely constructed safe house. Optimus slowed to a stop. Hydraulics hissed, and the vehicles outer shell broke and peeled away. He somersaulted into robot mode, and stretched. Ironhide and Road Rage did the same. Optimus walked over to a tipped over tractor trailer and sat down, he leaned against the dirt wall and began picking clumps of grass of his joints.

“Those guys are getting a lot less shy.” Optimus said. “What is that, the third time this month they’ve been out and about?”

“Fourth.” Road Rage said as she opened a container at the edge of the bunker. “I saw the purple one messing around near a hydroelectric plant in the county north of here.” She pulled out a long glowing orange tube and proceeded over to a table. Ironhide sat next to her.

“I think they’re up to something.” Ironhide said.

“The Decepticons are up to something?” Optimus reacted with false surprised. “Stop the Goddamn presses.”

Ironhide scoffed. He took the tube and pulled off the gold cap. Out slid two glowing rods. He took one and bit a chunk off. Optimus looked over.

“Hey, save that stuff.” He motioned to the half-eaten energy rod in Ironhide’s hand. “We’ve barely got enough of those to last the week. Road Rage crossed her arms and frowned.

“I bet the Decepticons don’t have to worry about energy.” She huffed. Optimus slumped back and waved his arm.

“Yeah, well, that’s because they steal.” He brushed the remaining clumps of soil and grass of his leg and stood. “We don’t. That’s the rules. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go “borrow” some materials from the scrap yard.” He walked up the dirt ramp out of the barn. Road Rage looked at Ironhide, still chomping away. Outside Optimus transformed and drove down the dirt road towards the highway. He made his way into town. As he passed through he saw the remainder of their recent run-in with danger. Trash cans knocked over, leaving debris everywhere, chunks of pavement missing from the streets, and two very confused elderly people examining the Optimus-shaped indent in their yard. Eventually he made it to the scrap yard. He pulled in, his wheels kicking up dust as he passed under the entrance. He moved through the heaps of scrap until he was well out of sight from the road, and returned to his robotic form. He examined the closest pile and got on his knees to begin digging. Not ten minutes had passed until he had a sufficient mound of usable material and was about to get it ready for transport when he heard a loud boom. He looked over the scrap mounds, expecting there to be some sort of fire or clouds of smoke in the distance, but nothing. Then he heard it. A wailing, noise. A rumbling in the air. He looked up. Something ripped through the air fast. A fighter jet. He only caught a glimpse. Optimus began to panic slightly, and wadded up the scraps he collected quickly so he could leave. He heard a crashing noise behind him, and before his reflexes even had time to turn his head, he was kicked through the scrap pile in front of him. Optimus was sent flying out of the scrap yard, hitting the road. A passing minivan narrowly avoided getting flattened. He bounced off the road into building, landing in the street across from the scrap yard. He heard someone yelling, a car skid to a halt, and a a thumping noise getting louder. Optimus snapped to it in time to turn around and knock away a hand grasping for his neck, but another grabbed his head, covering his eyes. Again he was tossed, landing in the middle of an intersection. This time, However, Optimus was prepared. He reached behind him, grabbing his tow hook and cable, and threw it at his attacker. He felt it grab, then pulled as hard as he could. His vision blurry, Optimus swung his fist at the figure, grazing it. Optimus’ blow was answered with a hard hit to his left cheek. He went down, a foot coming to rest on his chest. Optimus’ vision came back, and he saw his attacker clearly now. He was tall, silvery blue, angular, built, and judging from the expression in his red eyes, angry. The figure reached up and grabbed Optimus’ tow hook, which was caught on the robot’s chest.

“I must say I can’t see how you would have given Strika so much trouble.” The silver robot dislodged the hook and held it at his side. “Then again, even blindsided you managed to get a grip on me, so obviously you’re more capable than your appearance would suggest.” Optimus tried to lift the enemy’s foot off his chest, to no avail.

“Who are you?” Optimus asked him.

“Surely you’ve heard of Megatron,” He said. “Leader of the Decepticon army, future ruler of Cybertron and all her colonies?”

“Can’t say I have.” Optimus replied. Megatron scowled. He stomped on Optimus’ chest, then grabbed him by his head and wrapped Optimus’ own tow cable around his neck. Megaton pulled tight, Optimus gasping as the delicate systems in his neck were slowly being crushed. Just before anything broke. Megatron let go, and kicked Optimus down the street. Megatron shrugged his arms. A large mechanical block emerge lengthwise from each of his lower arms. He brought his fists together and the components connected, leaving his left arm and forming a weapon on his right, which he pointed at Optimus. He fired. A missile shot from the weapon towards Optimus, impacting dead centre. Bits of metal and street were strewn about, and Optimus landed in a heap ten yards down the street. Megatron fired another missile, destroying a diner between the two of them. Terrified people ran as the building collapsed. Megatron frowned, and fired again, this time devastating a barbers shop. He grunted and began walking to Optimus’ prone body, firing yet again, and missing. The confined area was interfering with his targeting systems. Finally he got close enough he couldn’t miss. As Megatron lined up the final shot, he was struck from behind. Optimus siezed the opportunity, scrambling to his feet and tackling Megatron. They went down, and Optimus laid into Megatron with a series of furious punches. Megatron brought up his arms to defend from the attack, but Optimus didn’t let up. Finally Megatron struck with his own punch, sending Optimus flying. Megatron rolled backwards and spun around, to confront his ambusher. A car came flying at Megatron’s face, which he knocked aside. Above him dropped down Road Rage, who landed on his back and began pulling on his face. Megatron yelled and reared back, giving the opening for Ironhide to charge and shoulder tackle him. He went flying, Road Rage jumped off and landed next to Optimus. Megatron skidded off the street and into a park. Road Rage struggled to lift Optimus, who was badly beaten and unable to stand. Ironhide ran over and pulled Optimus up over his shoulder. The three began to run when Megatron landed in front of them.

“Disgusting simpletons!” He growled. “I will make you suffer for this!” He drew his weapon.

“Road Rage!” Ironhide yelled. “Do it!” Road Rage turned to Ironhide with a worried look, but understood. She transformed into vehicle mode. Megatron laughed and took aim at her, only from Road Rage to split apart. Weapons and blades sprung from every nook on her vehicle mode and unleashed a storm of bullets and plasma bursts on Megatron, who couldn’t help but rear from the attack. Ironhide ran away with Optimus, Road Rage reversing to follow, but still firing madly. Megatron buckled under the onslaught, and was forced to retreat. With Optimus and Ironhide safely away, Road Rage returned to her vehicle mode proper and sped off after them.
-----

Back at the barn, Ironhide gently propped Optimus up against the wall. Road Rage sifted through a container of medical supplies. Ironhide waved his hand in front of Optimus’ lifeless eyes and snapped his fingers.

“He’s unresponsive!” Ironhide said, worried. Road Rage ran over, her arms overflowing with medical tools and equipment.

“Stick this in his arm!” She said, handing Ironhide a small vile. Road Rage held a light up to Optimus’ eyes. He didn’t react. She grabbed a small square device and clicked it. It fanned out into a hexagon, and she placed it over Optimus’ dented chest plate. It beeped wildly, until eventually evening out into a steady tone. Optimus jolted back to life and clawed at the air, Ironhide held him back.

“Ease up, man.” Ironhide said. “You’re safe.” Optimus looked around, then held his hand to his head.

“What the hell was that thing?” He said. Ironhide and Road Rage shrugged.

“It nearly killed us all.” Road Rage said.

“And it wasn’t any Decepticon I recognized.” Ironhide added.

“I saw it’s jet mode.” Road Rage continued. “It was an F-22 Raptor. That’s American military, right? So obviously this guy didn’t make planetfall here.” Optimus thought a second.

“He told me his name was Megatron.” He said. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

“Let me check.” Ironhide said. He walked over to a computer setup. A single, small monitor lit up as he accessed history records. He typed with his chubby fingers the name, and a lone entry popped up. He accessed it.

“Only thing here is a conviction notice.” Ironhide began reading. “Megatron, built cold 3rd year of the new millennia, was originally a shipping district supervisor who allegedly allowed secret passage of illegal militia troops during the uprising of the Autobot/Decepticon unity movement. He was considered an instrumental player in the segregation of Autobots and Decepticons in the eyes of the government, and upon release after conviction swore to reclaim the Decepticons rightful place as rulers of-”

“Cybertron and all her colonies.” Optimus finished. “God damn it…” Optimus sighed. “So he’s the Deception’s leader? Just what we need.”

“How are we supposed to fight their leader without backup?” Road Rage said.

“We need real soldiers. With guns and stuff.” Optimus said.

“Like us?” Ironhide asked.

“I said real soldiers.” Optimus said.

“Speaking of,” Ironhide began. “How you holding up, Road Rage?”

“Better than the last time.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m gonna sleep tonight, I tell ya.” Optimus stood up.

“Belay that nap,” He said. “It’s time we did what our bosses sent us here to do, and destroy the Decepticons!” He smashed his fist into his hand. Road Rage looked him up and down.

“Like that?” She said. “Can you even walk?” Optimus thought a moment, then waved her comment away. He took a step, and immediately his legs buckled and he fell to the ground.

“Okay, maybe not right this second…” He said from the floor. “But my point is we can do this, together.”
Road Rage and Ironhide both got visibly uncomfortable.

“Like, you mean all of us, fight all of them?” Ironhide said, counting with his fingers.

“Don’t they have like fifty guys?” Road Rage said. “We’re outnumbered!”

“How’s about this:” Optimus began. “You deal with them, or deal with me.” Road Rage thought, looked at Ironhide who shrugged, then looked back down to Optimus.

“Like, you right now?” Road Rage said.

“Just…” Optimus said, dropping his head into the dirt. “Gimme a moment.”
-----
Megatron entered through the highest tunnel, straight down into the mountain’s interior. His thrusters blared as he screamed through the caves. He landed on both feet, dust swirling around him, finally subsiding as he stood straight and motionless. Out of the shadows Obsidian hovered over to his master’s side, head down, arms crossed behind him.

“Welcome back, eminence.” He said, his head remained low. “I trust your trip was insightful?” As Obsidian raised his head to see his master, he noticed the scorched marks and chipped paint. Megatron was pristine when he departed.

“I see.” He said. “Is there anything I can do?” Megatron said nothing, he didn’t even turn to look at Obsidian before leaving for the bunker. Obsidian remained, illuminated only by the light from the top of the cavern, he looked up.

“Megatron is angry,” A voice from the darkness said. A red dot appeared against the black. “You should avoid contact as much as possible until he has calmed down.”

“Oh really?” Obsidian said. “What ever gave you that idea, Shockwave?” Shockwave didn’t move from the shadows, but continued speaking.

“I am unable to process emotions.” Shockwave said. “The one who sought to kill me those centuries ago accomplished that much at least. However I have detected a pattern in Megatron’s. When he is angry, he is violent and aggressive towards others. Thus, he should be avoided.”

“Magnificent.” Obsidian said. “Now if only you could detect sarcasm, so I would not have to suffer through your inane ramblings.” Shockwave said nothing, instead the red dot that signalled his presence disappeared, and the chamber was quiet again. Only Obsidian remained, hands still behind his back, his shadow stretching across the ground, his silent propellers barely disturbing the dust beneath him.