Transformers Familial Bonds Ch 4 (Patreon)

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“We do not defecate!” Rachet growled, looming over Robert. “That’s something reserved for life forms that are inefficient in their consumption of energy!”

“Then you figured out how to fall to meat levels what with your cable management being shit!” Robert snorted as he navigated to the recent pictures in his phone and showed the rat nest of wires that had ranged from small (which to giant robots must have been microscopic) to so large his hands had barely fit around them. He turned his phone around to show them the picture, the exo-suit hummed with his every movement, a nearly imperceptible delay to every motion he took. “Look at this mess! No way to tell where one wire ended and another began! It took me two hours just to separate the knots into something useful!”

“And how does it look now?” Optimus asked while Ratchet was still sputtering about having been called organic.

Robert flipped to the next picture and showed a cavernous space with cabling in neat orderly lines.

“A marked improvement.” The big blue and red bot said. “You have my thanks for aiding Teletran 1 in this manner.”

Robert waved a hand, the suit whirring as he did. “Eh, don’t worry about it, was just doing it to keep busy.”

“Rachet, I’ll take care of our guest. Now, what is this fascinating suit you’ve created?” Optimus asked, placing his hand in front of Robert, who took the invitation for what it was and hopped onto it.

“Oh it’s pretty sweet! I’ve been working on making my own exo-suit as a hobby. I asked Tel to help me with it.” He said as Optimus made his way out of the bridge. “Tel’s actually the one running it. It’s just reading my body’s movements and moving the suit accordingly, it wouldn’t work if I were to leave the ship or, at least, there would be increased lag the farther I went and depending on atmospheric conditions. So it’s not a true set of powered armor, but it works as a proof of concept!”

“That your first instinct upon being left rudely alone and unsupervised as a guest was to aid your rude hosts, speaks well of your character.” Optimus said.

Robert felt his chest swell with pride and subsequently crushed that feeling utterly. He was a grown-ass man and didn’t need the approval of a giant metal alien.

But it was still nice to be recognized.

“Yeah well, you know.” He said, shifting his weight from foot to foot, Optimus’ hand not even twitching as the weight distribution shifted back and forth. “It seemed the right way.”

“The fact that you believe such a thing to be self-evident is admirable.”

Embarrassment growing, Robert naturally changed the subject. “So, where are we headed?”

“To a place that serves as our barracks.” Optimus said. “We will decide on who shall be your escort.”

“Escort?” Robert asked, turning up to look at Optimus’ ‘face.’ “What will I need an escort for?”

“So you can go home.” Optimus said. “The Ark is not fit for human habitation, we have none of the facilities a human requires, and plenty of hazards that could damage you. But due to your bravery, we cannot simply take you to your home and leave you unattended. Your distraction of Knock Out in order to aid Jazz will have hurt his pride, and Knock Out has held onto grudges for millennia, he will not soon forget that you thwarted what should have been a moment of great triumph.”

“I also called him a rust bucket after I told him to eat shit and die.” Robert added helpfully.

Optimus made a humming noise. “I was not aware of this. Knock Out is above all things; vainglorious. I doubt he will have much time to lend to attaining his vengeance, but I have few doubts that what free time he has, he will dedicate to such an endeavor.”

Robert grunted. “I don’t suppose you have many cybertronians you can spare.”

“I do not.” Optimus agreed. “But neither will I consign you to death for the sin of aiding one of my bots in his time of need.”

Robert hummed, then jump jetted off Optimus’ hand and smacked into the giant robot’s shoulder, making him twitch in surprise and come to a stop. Robert clambered the rest of the way up. “Okay, counteroffer! I’m between jobs right now, and you could use someone comparatively small that can get into the difficult to reach areas for maintenance!”

Optimus’ eyes flickered. “You want me to…hire you?”

“Yup!” Robert said, knocking a gauntlet against the side of Optumus’ helmet-like head. “I spend the majority of my time here, Tel can print something for me to hang out at, you’re only down a bot for a little while whenever I need to run home for supplies, I’m safe from Decepticon activity and you get to have someone useful for scutwork, wins all around! What say you?”

“That I am not a legally authorized entity under your government to provide compensation for services rendered.” Optimus said.

“Meh, screw the government, all they do is steal from people. Did you know that we used to be able to order a machine gun in a catalog and it would be mailed to our front door? And now the only way to get one is to buy one made before 1986 and buy it from the owner directly at an exorbitant price as well as pay extra taxes for a privilege that’s supposed to be a right!?” Robert ranted.

“I did not.”

“I swear, this used to be a proper country!”

“I still do not—”

“Which means!” Robert said, cutting the big bot off. “That the government can screw off, they ain’t got no say on a private agreement between individuals!”

“That still does not deal with the subject of compensation.” Optimus insisted.

“Tel literally made this suit with nothing but a flashlight and some minor pointers. We ask Tel to print some gold coins, boom, salary!”

“That sounds like tax fraud.”

“Fraud schmraud!” Robert insisted. “The government will get their cut when I go sell the gold coins. Come on, you get to have your big secret war with minor interruptions, I get to hang out with cool alien robots and fiddle with your technology under supervision, it’s the best for all involved all around!”

Optimus hummed and resumed walking. “I am willing to make the attempt.”

“Hell yeah!” Robert said, pumping a fist.

“I have conditions.” Optimus said.

“Meh, we can work those out later!” Robert said excitedly. “For now, I need a ride home. I’m starving.”

“I was not aware that a day without sustenance led your species to starvation.”

“Figure of speech! I’m exaggerating for effect!”

“Ah, good, that makes me feel significantly less guilty.”

Optimus stepped through a huge (to Robert) door, into an enormous (to Robert) chamber that felt crowded due to having well over a dozen alien robot lifeforms hanging out and shooting the shit after a successful operation. They were even drinking some glowing liquid out of huge glasses.

When the huge blue, silver, and red bot stepped inside, the room went from rowdy to sternly at attention in an instant.

“Sir!” Said a comparatively small red robot, his face setting into a stern mask.

“At ease, Cliffjumper.” Optimus said, marking that one as whatever scout led to their seven-hour long deployment. “I am here to ask for a volunteer.”

“Volunteer for what, sir?” Asked a dark blue version of the ditzy girl robot that had been around when Robert woke up.

“Our local friend needs a ride home, as well as a protection detail for the night. He’ll be returning tomorrow.”

The various bots looked around each other, surprised.

“Sir, we’re enlisting a local?” Asked a big (for a giant robot), rotund dark green bot.

“We are, Bulkhead.” Optimus said, and leaving it at that, he cast his eye around the room. “Any takers?”

“This the local that saved Jazz’s bearing from being caught in a vice?” The blue girl robot said, much to Jazz’s vocal indignation and the amusement of the warlike bots around her.

“Indeed.” Optimus said.

She shrugged. “Sure, I’ll take it, could use a few rotations of light duty.”

“You have my thanks, Arcee.” Optimus said. “But do not assume this will be light duty.”

She blinked and tilted her head. “Why? He in any actual danger?”

“He called Knock Out a rust bucket after instructing him to ‘eat shit and die.’ I do believe Knock Out will have taken exception to that.”

There was a stunned silence in the room before just about every bot broke out into guffaws.

“Hey, Arcee, can I take over guard duty from ya?” Asked Bulkhead.

“Too late! You shouldn’t have put your processors to sleep!” She shot back.

Robert knocked his gauntleted fist lightly against Optums’ head twice to get the huge bot’s attention, the action causing no few of the cybertronians’ faces to stare aghast at him. “I take it Knock Out isn’t popular with you lot?”

Optimus turned his head just enough so he could see Robert out of the corner of his eye. “No Decepticon is, but Knock Out’s ways have made him few allies, even within the ranks of the Decepticons. I believe the only reason he is tolerated is that he is a superlatively skilled medic.”

“Huh, neat.” Robert said.

“Alright little guy.” Arcee said from somewhere around Optimus’ midriff. “Get down from up there. Our leader isn’t a form of personal transport.”

“He’s a truck!” Robert shot back. “That’s literally transport!”

“You know what I mea-wah!?” Arcee began confident, then flinched away as Robert hopped off of Optimus’ shoulder, overused the jets of his exosuit in an attempt to slow his descent, accidentally ‘jumped’ over Arcee, and instinctively latched onto her back to arrest his momentum, making her stumble. “Hey!”

“Whooo! Made it!” Robert said, then let go and made his best attempt to feather the jets to land safely. “Sorry ‘bout that. Still figuring that part out.”

“Feisty little.” Arcee muttered.

Optimus made a humming noise, which coming from the huge bot, that drew attention. “It is good to see that you two are compatible, but I fear I will have to ask you to cut the celebration short, Arcee. Our new friend lost most of his daily sustenance when Jazz pulled him through a Ground Bridge.”

“I said I was sorry!” Jazz shouted from somewhere, now that he didn’t have Optimus as a vantage point, it was a lot more difficult to figure out where everyone was.

“Alright, alright. Come along, erm, human.” Arcee said, starting to walk.

Considering she was easily fifteen feet tall, Robert would have to jog to keep up with her. So he did the only logical thing he could and jetted until he could latch onto her shoulder and hung onto her arm like a monkey.

“Woah! Hey!”

“You have super long legs, lady.” Robert said, settling in more securely. “It’s either this, or you slow down, which sounds like a drag.”

“You could also have tried running.” She scoffed, but rather than shake him off, she shifed her arm to give him a better foothold.

“In this economy?”

“What does the local economy have to do with you exerting effort?”

“Everything.”

“Humans are weird.”

“That’s racist.”

“The proper term is speciest.”

“Sounds like something a racist would say.”

They continued to bicker all the way to the disembarkation ramp, Arcee giving as good as she got in the shit-talking department. It was nice, it had been a while since Robert had had a proper partner to match wits against.

He texted Tel for a place to store his exosuit, and the big computer instructed him to merely step out of it. After he did, a process that was easy enough even if it required some slithering, the exosuit began walking on its own, likely on its way to storage.

“Neat.” Robert said. Doing what he could not to show how giddy he felt.

“Alright, let’s do this.” Arcee said, transforming into a sleek looking motorcycle, light sparkled above the seat for a few seconds before a very sexy lady wearing skin-tight riding leathers appeared on the seat. “Get on.”

Huh.

“First of all, I ain’t riding bitch.” Robert said, texting at Tel again.

“What does ‘riding bitch’ even mean?” Arcee asked, the woman on the bike ‘turning’ to look at Robert.

“It means being the passenger on a bike, and like I said, I ain’t riding bitch.” Robert said.

“Look, you may have saved Jazz, but you are not driving me!” Arcee growled.

“You can drive yourself lady.” Robert said, putting his phone away and waiting. “I won’t interfere with the actual driving bit, I’ll just hop on the front. Besides, if I look like I’m actually driving, you won’t have to power a hologram the entire time we’re out there.”

Arcee remained quiet for a long time before the hologram winked out. “Okay, whatever.”

“Cool.” Robert said, then didn’t get on.

“Well?” Arcee demanded.

With perfect timing, a door opened and a yellow robot (putting him at a little over twice as tall as Robert) that looked like Cliffjumper walked in. “Hey so, Teletran 1 told me to bring this little thing here?”

“Right over here!” Robert said, waving his hand.

The yellow robot blinked, walked over, and handed Robert his new motorcycle helmet, it looked to be made of metal, and considering Tel had made it, it probably was. He slipped it on his head and sat on Arcee’s seat. “Safety first.”

“Whatever. Just hold on.” She said, then took off way too quickly, making him yelp and hold on harder.

“That was uncalled for!” He shouted over the sudden roar of wind as she drove down the metal ramp and out into a stone tunnel.

“That just means you’re weak!” She said and accelerated. “It’s also payback!”

“I will have my vengeance!” Robert promised.

“What’s that? You want to do air time?” Arcee threatened.

“Okay okay! You win this one!”

“Damn right I do!” They remained quiet until the tunnel exited into the green grasslands around the city. After several minutes of driving in silence, Arcee said. “By the way, where are we going?”