Transformers: The Movie
A Blip in Time
Such a small change, with it the world came tumbling down. And yet such a small change that looking back none would have seen it coming.
Six months ago…
Valiant leader of the Autobots Optimus Prime lay sprawled out on the city streets, his arch nemesis the egomaniacal Decepticon Megatron loomed over his ready to administer the killing blow. Between the titan machines stood Sam Witwickey and the cosmic cube known only as the All-Spark, an artifact with the power to imbue life into any machine. It was the one item that could restore life to Cybertron, that could restore life to both Megatron and Optimus Prime's world and populate it with new life.
Each wanted the cube for his own reasons, Megatron sought power and the cube would give him an army of thousands all loyal to him. With that army he would sweep over the cosmos like a plague; consuming worlds, their resources, and conquering their people.
"Your concern for these humans has made you weak Prime," Megatron gloated.
Optimus Prime sought the cube only to bring back life to his dead world, to see the war end and the Cybertronian people reborn. The stakes were far too great for him to let the cube fall into Megatron's hands and he was left with little recourse. With the cube Megatron would destroy the blue planet, without it the remaining Autobots and human military stood a chance against the Decepticons.
"Sam," Optimus pleaded to the boy trapped between them, "Put the cube in my chest; I will destroy it, and myself to stop Megatron."
Sam, an ant among two giant froze, the fate of the world, the universe on his young shoulders. In another time Sam would risk it all, sliding under Megatron to force the cube into his underbelly, using its power to destroy the Tyrant. But in this time he hesitates just a second too long. Megatron acts, his spear like fingers tore though the boy like a hot knife. The cube dropping from the boy's hands as the light went out of his eyes and he coughed, blood poring from his mouth and wounds.
Megatron rose, the grim visage of Sam Witwickly speared across his fingers as the cube was held triumphant in his hands, the Tyrant turned and took a leap as he shook the body quickly from his fingers, sending the boy flying, a look of horror and shock on Optimus Prime's face as a single hand caught the boy. But it was too late.
"It's over Prime," Megatron gloated as the energy of the cube poured out, on the trashed ground, computers in offices, cell phones, XBOX 360s, and the fighter jets in the sky were all blanketed by its energy, and with the infusion they transformed, taking on humanoid shapes as Megatron laughed.
"That was six months ago, My name is Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, broadcasting to any Autobots out there who receive this transmission. I have failed as your leader and now I must ask for your aid. I know I do not deserve it. And the odds are against us. Megatron leads an army and while some of the newborn Cybertronians are Autobots we are vastly outnumbered. And so I beg for your help, any help you can offer would mean our odds increase. Megatron must be stopped, and this time I will not fail."
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Now…
A beast of machinery that was once a SUV kicks down the wall of a blown out hovel of a building, a ragged old teddy bear crushed under its boot, a figure shivers, cowering in the closet under the stairs, tattered and worn clothes that were once bright orange are now a burnt out brick tone.
"It's empty," the creature bellows, its voice echoing with a mechanical white noise.
The figure breathes a relived breath as the monster turns away. His breath cut short as the creature turns around, its cold steel optics looking where the boy was hiding. With supernatural speed it closes the distance tearing the wall apart to reveal a boy no older then 17 or 18, cowering.
"You will serve the pits well, human if you wish to live."
The boy nods quickly and silently. As the monster bends down to pick him up.
Suddenly the monster roars, rearing back as a shower of fireworks impact its form. As the boy scrambles to his feet, ready to run, a blaze of fire and sunlight tears though the debris, before the monster can react or the boy can act the door of the Lamborghini Mucilargo swings open, a confident and young voice echoing. "Get in!"
The boy scrambles into the passenger side, the door closing securely with barley a touch as he secures the safety belt, the high octane vehicle tearing out and away from the beast. Looking over the boy, his face covered in grim, examines his savior, a hot shot 20 something man in a racking jacket.
"Who are you?" the boy asks as they speed away.
"You can call me Hot Rod."
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It seemed as if the two had been driving for some time, the torn and decimated landscape of New York fading behind them as they hit the interstate. A grim visage of overturned cars, long since burned out peppered the street as Hot Rod expertly weaved among the chaos.
"Where are we going Hot Rod?" the boy asked, breaking the silence.
The Lamborghini skidded to a halt, the side door opening. "Before we continue John you need to see something, please get out."
Confused the boy unsecured the seat and scrambles out of the car. The door closes and a moment passes with nothing. Then the Sound is heard. That horrible mechanical shifting noise the metal monsters made when they changed forms. John's heart thundered in his chest as Hot Rod rose onto two legs.
He was one of them, a Decepticon.
To afraid to talk, to even move he stood there in a cold shiver.
"Relax John, I won't hurt you."
"Y-your one of t-them!" he stammered trying to regain his nerve, to run.
"Me a Decepi-chump, HA!" the voice laughed confidently. "I am an Autobot, they are Decepticons. They're my enemy as much as yours."
John wanted to be angry; the machine men had 2 factions? And their war was destroying his home. He should be angry, but it wasn't long ago America, his home, was declaring war on a neighboring country, and was it so hard to believe that another race would do the same.
And Hot Rod had saved him.
Seeing the boy was silent Hot Rod continued, "I responded to a call for help our leader Optimus Prime sent out. That is where we are going John. But I wanted you to know the truth first."
"A-are there more of you coming? The Decepticons, your going to stop them, right?"
The towering machine kneeled down and for the first time since their meeting John saw the face of Hot Rod. If it wasn't for their differences in species, him an evolved ape, Hot Rod an evolved toaster, he would have sworn the face that smiled at him was the same age as him. "I promise John."
Hot Rod dropped back to the ground and a moment later John saw the car again, this time when the door opened the driver's side waited. John hesitated and then got inside. His hands traced the wheel with the blocky face on the center, and smiled. "Let's go Hot Rod."
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Hoover Dam, former storehouse of NBE-1 a.k.a. Megatron and the All-Spark.
John and Hot Rod came to a stop just outside the vehicle entry, a pair of armed guards leveling rifles at them.
"Who are you!" one of them demanded.
The door opened and John stepped out, "Is Optimus Prime here?"
"Who are you?" They said again, each one leveling a weapon at the duo.
"L-Look, this is Hot Rod, he's an Autobot." John's voice cracked.
"How do you know that name?" a third voice said, a woman's voice. The guards looked behind them as a teenage girl emerged from beyond the gate. She looked worn, and was covered in grease and motor oil. Like the guards she wasn't in the mood for games.
"If your men will lower their weapons," Hot Rod said. "I'll show you."
The girl nodded, her hands on the rifles as she lowered them, the guards tensed. Hot Rod transformed, looming over the entry guards, "I'm Hot Rod, an Autobot, and I came to help."
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"We have food this way," the girl offered as she lead John away from the entrance. Pausing, she looked up to Hot Rod. "Ratchet will be here in a moment, just wait here."
"Yeah, about that. Waiting really isn't my thing." Hot Rod commented.
Her voice dropped low, like the rumble of an engine. "You will wait here, there are a couple dozen armed men and women waiting to put a thousand hole in your paint job if you so much as look at me funny."
"Relax," John said, trying to diffuse the situation, "He saved my life."
She looked at him with a cold stare that terrified John even more then the Decepticon from before. "You're not the first to be tricked into working for a Decepticon. But this is as far as any of them get."
The woman tossed a gesture to the side of the main room, piles of machinery as well as half intact heads not unlike Hot Rod's littered a large pile. She didn't say another word, she didn't need to. A cold shiver ran down Hot Rod and John's collective backs.
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"It's no five-star restaurant but its food." The woman said as she sat John down at a worn old table and retrieves a ration pack from a cupboard.
John's stomach rumbled as he tore into the package, and then, the freeze dried food, devouring it like a starved wolf.
"It's food, that's what matters."
Mid chew he paused, looking to the woman as she was leaving, "You going to join me?"
The woman let out a low sigh, "To much work to do, Ironhide's still has his right cannon off-line, and Bumblebee's transformation servo is malfunctioning."
"Ironhide? Bumblebee?" John asked confused.
"The other Autobots, along with Cliffjumper, Ratchet, and Optimus Prime."
John did the numbers a moment in his head, "That's only five, the Decepticons number on the hundreds."
The woman sighed again as she moved off, "Now you see why I need to get back to work."
There was a pit in John's stomach and he lost his appetite. Again the woman paused, "You better eat that, you'll need your strength when you need to move. This base won't last forever."
John felt ill, a lump hardening in his throat as he forced the rest of his rations down. His stomach felt hollow all the same.
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"Hot Rod? Is it really you?" The medical Autobot in the bright yellow paint circled Hot Rod, a red laser sight tracing Hot Rod's form. "I would have expected you to charge in with your gun's blazing. Have you actually matured?"
Hot Rod gave a cocky smile, "When I came in and saw the devastation…" His voice dropped to a whisper.
"It's bad," Ratchet stated simply.
"How bad?" Hot Rod quizzed, a glimmer of hope in his optics.
"We lost Jazz, Cliffjumper can't walk, Ironhide's only got half his weapons online, and Bumblebee can't transform out of vehicle mode. The human female is helping with repairs but its slow going."
Hot Rod held onto hope, Megatron had an advantage but it couldn't be that bad and there was still Prime. "What of Prime? And Megatron's got to be hurting as bad as us right?"
"Prime…" Ratchet faded off, "Prime is in no condition to fight."
Hot Rod felt the hope starting to crack, "And Megatron's forces?"
"Megatron commands the All-Spark, and with it unlimited potential troops, and a standing army in the hundreds."
It hit like a blow to the gut, Hot Rod slumped forward. Ratchet patted Hot Rod's shoulder but the gesture was hollow. "It's Cybertron 2.0."
Ratchet could only nod.
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Engineering Bay/Autobot Triage Center
The large security door opened with a hiss, the assembled Autobots, and a handful of humans paused from their work on the wounded as a figure emerged, he was once a mighty leader, now he slumped forward like a marionette on broken strings. His once bright blue optics that reflected the potential of the third rock were now dim and gray. His armor, once emblazoned with passion and fire was chipped and faded, and his movement were slow and lumbering.
"Autobots, friends," His voice, once full of confidence and authority now felt weak and shallow. "This war has cost us much, but soon we will see victory over the Decepticons. My only regret is I will not be there to revel in the victory with you."
The hushed whispers that rose from the group made it hard for Prime to continue his speech. Under the cover of a tarp a team of marines wheeled in a large object.
"Megatron commands the All-Spark but it will not aid him against our new allies."
The marines removed the tarp revealing a hand full of military vehicles from Armored Personal Carriers to Jeeps. "With the last transfusion of my energies from my own Spark these 'Robot Masters' will gain all the qualities of an Autobot except for a mind. Six talented human will serve as the minds of these new Autobots as I leave this world."
"Optimus no!" the yellow Cammero, Bumblebee, yelled, his engine revving in protest. "If someone must exhaust their Spark to bring these Robot Masters online, use me, I'm useless like this!"
"No Bumblebee, you have survived these last five months without me, you will continue on without me still, and have six new allies besides. The needs of the many, Bumblebee, out weight the needs of the one." Primes voice was old, tired, and yet still caried the weight of his station with it. Cliffjumper the red Cammero, Bumblebee, Ratchet, and Ironhide were silent.
"Then I'll do it," Hot Rod says defiantly.
"This is not up for debate Hot Rod," Prime intoned as the young Cybertronian moved up to him and shoving him roughly.
"By Primus it isn't! I just got here; I'm younger, in better shape. Chances are I'll survive this even if my Spark isn't as strong as yours. And I haven't made an impact in the war. They'll do much better with the Robot Masters and you fighting while I'm recovering."
"This is not your responsibility Hot Rod, don't throw your life away," Prime's voice resonating with authority. "I failed to destroy Megatron; this is the best way to correct that mistake Hot Rod. You will learn with experience and time that with great powers must also come great responsibility. An Autobot must defend his charges, and I failed in that."
"Everyone makes mistakes Prime," Ironhide's rough voice seemed softer a moment, "Let the boy try."
"He makes a good point Prime," Ratchet explained, "In your condition you might not even have the power you need to transform the Robot Masters before your Spark expires. You can always throw your life away if Hot Rod fails." The last sentence was said harsher then the medic's usual demeanor, as if to emphasize just how wrong it was.
A low whir, the mechanical sigh of an Autobot escaped Prime's lips. "I can not let my subordinate do something I would not be willing to do. You can survive without me."
"We know already you're willing to do it, But Hot Rod plan is just as good Prime. It won't diminish you to let him take your place if you are both willing and he is more fit for the job. What makes more sense Prime? Loosing our commander for the chance of six new Autobots or putting an Autobot in medical leave and gaining six. Later on we would still be without you with your plan but with Hot Rod there is the chance to add him to the fight at a later date."
Prime sighed again, "As you wish Cliffjumper," His wary optics turn to Hot Rod, "Hot Rod, thank you. The humans here will tell you what needs to be done. I must rest."
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