Chapter Text
Finn Gordon put the specs he had been gifted on a desk in his new room, and curled up onto his new bed. He... he just needed to process all of this.
His parents were dead now. His only family in the world now was his older brother Jason, or "Jay" as he had learned to call him. So now Finn had to move in with his brother, a member of the US Air Force. And the thing was, the thing that haunted Finn was... a part of him was OK with that. Despite the tragedy of it all, a part of him was unbothered by it all.
When he examined his heart and his situation, he found that...he did not care that much for his parents. He saw his father as a callous, selfish jerk who liked to dictate everything to his family, no matter what they actually wanted and his mom had been... just there, his whole life. She had never done anything detrimental to him, but she'd never really been... supportive either. She just... went along with whatever his dad wanted. A human doormat, you could call her.
A part of him was saying "It's such a tragedy... that this didn't happen sooner." and... he hated that. He hated the fact that he felt this way about his own parents, and that he couldn't even properly grieve for them. He was a teenager, they probably weren't actually as bad as he was making them out to be. It's not like they beat him or anything, so what is his problem? What kind of psychopath was he?! The truth of the matter was, Finn was upset about the fact that, now that the initial shock had passed... he was not upset by this turn of events. What kind of person was he that he felt such a callous disregard for his own family?
But this... this cognitive dissonance. He couldn't have that in the forefront of his mind right now. No, Finn decided to bury any feelings of guilt for now, because for now... he needed to mull over the sheer bizarre nature of his situation.
And his situation certainly was strange. Because the incident that took his parents away from him... was an attack by a bunch of giant alien robots that could change shape. Or transform, as the military men referred to it. Apparently these creatures were a species called "Cybertronian", but all the humans around Finn referred to them as Transformers.
His parents had been killed by a group of these Transformers. And now... he was living in the same building as ten other robots from the same planet, just from a different faction.
He... he just needed to lie down and let his mind process this turn of events and just what had happened here.
EARLIER
Even though he was the only one who seemed to get any enjoyment from it, Mr. Logan Gordon had a habit of regularly dragging his family to Red Mountain for extended hikes under the guise of "family time".
Finn wished he would find something else that could qualify as family time, as he HATED this. The park was huge (at least, that's how Finn perceived it) as it had over 15 miles worth of trails, and the terrain was very rocky and went uphill in several places. It was called Red Mountain after all. It provided enough space and time for Mr. Gordon to complete one of his rants. Because not ONE of these hikes went by without Mr. Gordon thinking of something that his family was doing or had done wrong that he could complain and rant about. Or if not his family, then it was something that the world had done wrong. Finn wished he could return the favor and tell his dad everything HE was doing wrong.
But he couldn't complain. Jay never complained, he just went with it, and signed up with the Air Force as soon as he turned 18, so he had escaped the stupid rants, though probably had to do stuff like this hike all the time. If Finn complained about having to go on the hike, he'd simply be negatively compared to his brother, even though the fact that Jay rarely communicated with anyone except for Finn made it clear that he wasn't interested in being their favorite. So he Finn simply kept his mouth shut and went with it. Though not without calling his dad a string of names in his mind and wondering why Jay never reported him for child abuse. Because in Finn's expert, angry fifteen year old opinion, Mr. Gordon was an abusive jerk who deserved to be called out by the federal government. And Jay had the perfect opportunity to make that happen, he worked for the government for Pete's sake. So why didn't he report his dad to his superiors?
One day, while the family was out on one of their routine hikes, they noticed the signs of the start of a forest fire. "Maybe it's not too late for us to help put it out. Get your phones ready, and Finn, give me your jacket. Maybe I can either smother part of it or find the ones responsible and tan their hides before they get away." remarked Mr. Gordon.
"Wha- Dad, no! That's a terrible idea! We should be going AWAY from the fire, not towards it! Whoever started it isn't going to be there, and besides, this is my favorite jacket, you're not going to ruin it!" protested Finn.
"Phineas Thomas Gordon, you will do as you are told. Jackets can always be replaced. You can always get a new one, now give me your goddamn jacket right this instant or I swear, I'll ground you for a month!" ordered Mr. Gordon, ignoring his son's protests. So Finn reluctantly handed over his jacket. Mr. Gordon yanked it out of his hands and said, "Now let's stop gaping like idiots and get a move on before it gets even worse. Now come on!" he yelled. So the Gordons ran towards the fire instead of away from it. Thus, sealing their fate.
So they ran, ran to the fire's origin point and when they got there... they stopped short in surprise. For the fire had already spread farther than they had expected, and the origin of the fire... it was not a cigarette or an unattended campfire.
No, standing in the epicenter of the slowly-spreading inferno were three giant robots with wings.
Each robot was a different color. One was dark orange, and had bright red TRON lines running across his body. Two sets stood out in particular. Two of these lines ran up from the top of his chest, up the length of his neck and ceased at the corners of his mouth, giving the impression that he was bleeding out of the corners of his mouth. Two of the lines ran down the length of his arms and ended in glowing circles on the palms of his hands.
This orange robot's entire body seemed to generate a faint glow, and the air seemed to warp around him, as if a heat haze was caused by his mere presence. There seemed to be exhaust panels located on both of his shoulders and his knees that exhumed smoke at a steady rate.
The second robot was sky blue, and seemed to be carrying some sort of rifle. That was the only readily noticeable feature about him.
The third robot was light purple, and seemed to have some sort of elongated weapon strapped to his back. He also seemed to have welding goggles attached to his forehead for some reason.
All three robots had ominous looking purple badges emblazoned on their wings and on their chests. At this moment, the fire seemed to have their complete attention. The orange and blue robots facial expressions indicated fascination, the purple one's indicated satisfaction.
"What. The. HELL?!" blurted out Mr. Gordon.
This caught the attention of all three robots. A psychotic look spread across the face of the orange one. "Oh sweet, new tinder!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. He reached out with his hand, palm facing outward, and the glowing circle on his palm opened up and flames began to jet out.
The purple robot looked horrified. "Sunstorm! No!" he cried as he lunged forward and grabbed Sunstorm's arm and pointed it skyward, making it miss the Gordon family, as they barreled away from where Sunstorm had been aiming.
"What the frak, Hotlink? Why do you have to ruin my fun?" complained an angry Sunstorm.
"Once again, your pyromania has made you forget your orders." shouted Hotlink in return. "Don't you remember? If we get the opportunity, we are to CAPTURE any humans we encounter. We need test subjects for Project Orthrus, remember? Anyways, 'new tinder', what the scrap are you talking about? You've incinerated humans before. There's nothing new about incinerating them."
"Right, right. You're right. Uh... you want me to go after them?" asked Sunstorm, regaining his composure.
Hotlink sighed, and tapped his goggles in exasperation. "You know what? You'd better not. We're in the middle of a forest. We're surrounded by flammable objects and it's blatantly obvious that you won't be able to control yourself. Why don't you just continue making our attention grabber bigger right here? I'm sure you want to do just that anyways."
Hotlink looked at the blue robot "Bitstream. You go after them. Remember, we don't want to jam their communications immediately so don't bother doing it wirelessly. Actually, this limitation will give you the opportunity to test something for me." he said, tossing Bitstream a small object "essentially? That's a scaled down EMP packed into a grenade. I want to see if we can use it to short out human electronics on the fly, this should serve as an adequate test run. Just make sure you get the timing right and don't wind up wasting it on accident." he instructed "I'll take care of our secondary goal and get our backup lined up, because we all know who's inevitably going to come now."
"Right." echoed Sunstorm and Bitstream, and they set off on their respective missions.
"...Why the frak am I the one doling out orders here? You're the one who's supposed to be in charge of the Heat-Seekers, Sunstorm. Not me. I'm not a leader, I'm just the pyrotechnics expert." Hotlink muttered to himself once they had both left.
He activated his comlink. "Hey, Bombshock? As expected, Sunstorm screwed something up... Yes, already. Bitstream is chasing after some runaway humans... No, they're just some random civilians, it's not any of them. I was just about to go after them. I know it's inconvenient, but could you have either Growl or Tracer come down here in case one of my wingmates needs some help? Cause you know how competent they can be sometimes."
He said this bit sighing and rolling his eyes. "...What? No, don't send him. Grapeshot..." he sighed "I'm sorry, Dropshot would probably be overkill in this situation. Besides, I need him as MY backup. I'm going in right away, so send him my way. Please and thank you." finished Hotlink.
He got off his comlink, took a deep breath and sighed. He rubbed his face then cracked his fingers. "Alrighty then, let's do this." he proclaimed, and he then proceeded to lower his goggles over his eyes and to draw his weapon from his back.
The Gordons charged through the park with Bitstream hot on their heals. Mrs. Gordon had nearly completed their call to emergency services, when Bitstream threw the EMP device.
"Oh like HELL you're gonna!" shouted Mr. Gordon, and he promptly kicked the EMP grenade right back at Bitstream. It was an expert kick too, it exploded right in Bitstream's face.
Bitstream fell to the ground, clutching his eyes... while laughing. "Holy SCRAP Hotlink! Don't keep that think aside exclusively for humans! We can totally use this thing as a flashbang, just like the ones Nightbird uses!"
This behavior freaked out Mrs. Gordon, so she yelled at her husband "Logan! Don't just stand there! Emergency services aren't going to be enough, call Jay! We need the Air Force!"
"I get it Kate, you don't need to shriek." shouted Mr. Gordon in response. So as they tried to put some distance between them and Bitstream, Mr. Gordon dialed the phone number of his elder son, and received the voicemail. "Jason! Pickup your goddamn phone! This is an emergency! We need you to-" a shot rang out and Mrs. Gordon and Finn were sent flying through the air.
Mrs. Gordon recovered first. She looked for her husband, and when she saw him, she screamed. Mr. Gordon was lying dead on the ground, half his head, his upper torso, and his arm had been charred away.
"Oh come on Tracer! You weren't supposed to kill him!" shouted Bitstream in dismay.
The remaining Gordons quickly looked over at Bitstream, then glanced over at where Bitstream was looking. There was a mostly black robot sitting on a large rock and leaning on a tree. He appeared to be wearing a visor and some sort of face mask, and he was holding what appeared to be a smoking sniper rifle.
This robot... Tracer, sighed. "I just want to say, for the record, Bitstream. I was aiming for the phone, not him. I thought it would help make a more convincing distress call. And I actually did hit my intended target, but how was I supposed to know that the impact would cause THAT? It's not my fault that humans are so fragile."
Tracer shook his head "Regardless, I have a hard time believing that was entirely my fault, I remember reading that they recently found that a certain brand was super faulty and explosion prone. It was called a universe 9 or something ridiculously grandiose like that. Maybe he owned one of those? Whatever, this isn't a complete bust, the other two are still alive. Just grab them, and let's take them back to the rendezvous point."
So, Bitstream scooped up Finn and Mrs. Gordon, and they began to walk back to the place where this all began. Hotlink and Sunstorm were nowhere to be seen, but they had now been replaced. Now, in the center of the clearing stood a large green and blue robot. He had tank treads protruding from his shoulders and a cannon sticking protruding from his back. Standing with him, were about a dozen other robots, all of which looked identical to one another. Some were red, some were yellow, and some were blue.
"Where are the others, boss?" asked Tracer.
"Hotlink, Dropshot, Growl, and the Vehicons are off taking care of the primary mission. HE has been assigned to help them. We're letting Sunstorm indulge in his pyromania. It'll help suit our purposes anyways." responded the blue and green robot. "We... either have to find more humans or simply sit tight and wait for our guests to arrive."
As soon as those words left his mouth, a swirling green vortex materialized in the air nearby. The green and blue robot looked at it passively while all the other robots readied their weapons. "Ah, and here they are. How did that human saying go? 'Speak and he shall appear?', I think that fits."
"Don't just stand there and spout human quotations, Bombshock! Get ready!" shouted Bitstream.
Suddenly, the vortex emanated a purple aura, and all the robots began to struggle to keep their weapons steady. Then, a riderless white police motorcycle zoomed out of the vortex and rammed Bitstream in the chest. For the second time in a row, the light blue robot was knocked onto his backside by something significantly smaller than himself.
Using Bitstream as a launching pad, the motorcycle flew through the air and then... it changed shape into yet another robot. This new robot's arc through the air ended with him grabbing one of the yellow robots by the head, and using his momentum to pick him up and judo toss him into some of his comrades. He landed on his feet with the skill of an Olympic gymnast, then he gracefully pirouetted behind another of the identical robots, which was promptly shot apart by its fellows.
"Scrapmetals! Cease fire! You-" Bombshock's order was interrupted by a red car driving out of the vortex. It drove into the midst of the Scrapmetals, and changed into... it could only be described as a grey rectangle with a face and a red back. It lifted its hands and a purple aura emanated from them. A couple of Scrapmetals began to float in the air. It motioned in the air, and they were flung in Bombshock's direction.
Bombshock casually punched them out of his way. "Throwing Scrapmetals? Really? Is that honestly the best you can come up with Win-" then out of nowhere, he was rammed by a SWAT truck going at full speed. He was thrown into a nearby hillside, causing a cascade of rocks, briefly inconveniencing him.
The SWAT truck, somehow still intact, backed up at full speed and now rammed into Bitstream, who had just gotten back onto his feet. Instead of sending him flying, it carried him until it collided with a tree.
Meanwhile, Tracer took one shot at the foes he could see before he sensed something amiss. He jumped to the side just in time to just be barely grazed by laser fire. He spun about and witnessed an orange robot dual wielding elongated pistols leaping from the trees. The orange robot opened fire upon him and Tracer fired back. "And... of course Scoop is here. Don't you have more important things to do?!" he shouted grumpily at the orange robot.
The police motorcycle-robot used this opportunity to swoop in and come to the humans' rescue. A larger silver robot rammed Tracer from behind, then, the police-cycle leapt off of his back and dropkicked an approaching Scrapmetal in the face. He backflipped and landed gracefully in front of the humans. He pivoted to look at the silver robot. "Good work, Streetwise! You stay here and help Rook, Scoop, and Windcharger just in case any reinforcements come. I'll get the humans to the evacuation zone!"
"Will do, Groove!" shouted Streetwise in response as he charged into the fray.
The police-cycle bot- Groove, got on one knee to talk to the humans "Now how did that saying go again? Come with me if you want to live?"
"H-how can you expect us to trust you?!" shrieked Mrs. Gordon. "One of you just killed my husband!"
Groove sighed "One of the Decepticons killed him, ma'm. I'm an Autobot." he said, tapping on his chest. Finn now noticed the red, friendly looking face emblazoned there, that emblazoned on all the helpful robots, he realized.
"We come from the same place, it is true, but we are at war with the Decepticons. Calling us the same thing would be like... I don't know, what's the best human analogy? Accusing a Yankee of being a Confederate?" then he stopped talking and put a hand to his ear.
"Wait... hold on... sorry. Eject is screaming in my ear, telling me that that is a HORRIBLE analogy. Well what analogy would YOU make?" he shouted into his obvious earpiece. he nodded, before he turned back to the Gordons and saying "He says that a better metaphor would be like accusing a German American or a German-Jew serving in the Allied Army of being a NAZI. Does that make more sense?" he stared at the humans for a few moments before putting his hand to his ear again. "Yea... are you sure that you got that analogy right, Eject? They're making faces. You know what? It's not important."
Groove disconnected his call and told the humans "Look, I'm here to help, and I want you to live. I can get you to an evacuation zone where the military will meet us. Isn't that good enough for you?"
Soon, they were riding through the park on Groove's motorcycle form. He expertly maintained balance despite the terrain not being at all conducive for motorcycle riding. As they rode, they eventually heard the sound of... helicopter blades.
"Oh no... are those murderers about to catch us?" moaned Mrs. Gordon.
"No ma'm, those helicopter blades that you hear? I know them, he's as crazy and dangerous as any Decepticon, but he's on our side." responded Groove as a red rescue helicopter flew into view.
Suddenly, it began to smell as if the air itself was burning. The smell was accompanied by an orange jet rocketing into sight. The water in the air evaporated as soon as it came into contact with this jet, created a trail of steam. The flames exhumed by its engines were much larger than normal, and smoke and flames licked out through some vents on the bottom of this jet.
Clearly Sunstorm deciding to pay attention to something other than the fire that he had started. "Still alive and with the Autobots, huh? Not for long!" he exclaimed enthusiastically as he began to release incendiary bombs.
Groove expertly weaved through all of them, not taking a single hit.
"...Should've known that that wouldn't work." muttered Sunstorm as he changed shape. He kept the same speed and altitude, being suspended by what appeared to be a built-in jetpack beneath his wings and rockets built into his feet. "How about this, then?" he said, putting his hands together. In-between his hands he began to begin to build up what looked like a miniature sun.
The rescue helicopter flew above him at a ten-o'clock angle. Then it changed shape and tackled Sunstorm into the forest below. The sun-shot went wild, utterly missing the trio.
"See, we're fine. Blades has him handled." commented Groove. "Alright, we're almost to the rendezvous point. We just have to-" suddenly an explosion threw them all into the air. Finn landed on top of his mother, so he was the first to recover and see what had happened.
Hotlink was back, and standing with him was a short, visored red robot, and a masked robot that had a rocket launcher attached to his back. The launcher was aimed directly at them. Standing with them were about two dozen sleek purple robots with no discernible faces, only silver visors with red slits. For some reason, Finn could tell just by looking at them that they were tougher than the Scrapmetals.
"Huh, you Autobots got here quicker than anticipated." muttered Hotlink. "Dropkick, Growl, and I just finished."
"It's Dropshot!" shouted the robot with the rocket launcher indignantly. Hotlink simply waved him off.
Finn crawled over to Groove "Groove... Groove! Can't you do something! Like use your awesome ninja powers and hidden weapons to get us out of this."
Groove groaned "Sorry kid, I'm just very spry on my feet, I'm not actually a ninja. I don't even carry weapons. I never have, I'm a... let's just call me a conscientious objector, OK? I'm willing to help in the war effort and to save lives, heck, I'm even willing to stretch my code and be the indirect cause of a loss of life, but I... I can never bring myself to wield a weapon and actually intentionally take a life. And, I'm not in the condition I was in my prime anymore... sorry kid, I won't be much good right here and now."
Finn froze and stared at Groove for several moments, before he shouted "What kind of shitty ass war robot ARE you?!"
Groove chuckled a bit at his reaction. "It doesn't matter anyways, kid. Not like I'd stand much of a chance on my own anyways. Growl's a scout with hand-to-hand skills rivaling my own, Hotlink may be a scientist, but he's no pushover. Dropship is the muscle, but that doesn't make him dumb unfortunately. Then there is the matter of these drones. Vehicon Troopers are a completely different breed than the Scrapmetals. Literally."
"Scrapmetals are essentially what you'd get if you had early caveman suddenly crawling out from under the Earth one day, then immediately put under mind control by some dictator or another. Vehicons are drones specifically designed for combat, and their intelligence is nearly on the level of a full Cybertronian. They're grunts and easily killed cannon fodder in the right conditions, but they aren't complete pushovers." he explained.
"We're all going to die!" moaned Mrs. Gordon
Suddenly, Sunstorm was thrown through the trees and onto the ground nearby, covered in slashes. A fierce looking red robot carrying a sword followed after him. Half the Vehicons aimed at him... then a blue fire truck drove off a nearby cliff and landed on top of some of them. It fired its hose at Hotlink, knocking him off his feet. The firetruck changed shape into the tallest robot Finn had seen yet. Then chaos reigned.
The fire-truck robot used his hose like a whip and began to throw Vehicons around. He charged into a group of three and knocked one onto the ground and grabbed another by the head in his charge. Simultaneously, he crushed the head of the fallen one underfoot with a powerful stomp, kicked another with his spare leg, and smashed the head of the one he grabbed into a nearby boulder.
Blades swung his sword in his hands, and it converted into a set of helicopter blades which promptly attached itself to his arm. He held his arm outwards, blades first, and had powered on the blades, creating a sort of shield. Any laser fire that hit it simply bounced off.
One Vehicon drew a sword and tried to advance on Blades. His blade simply bounced off, and Blades swiftly cut his arm off when he tried, then he spun around and cut the Vehicon in half at the waist.
Growl drew some Vehicons into trying to shoot at the downed Groove, but the Vehicons were downed by laser fire emanating from the cliff that the fire truck had driven off of, making Growl duck for cover. Finn looked up to see three identical masked white robots with blue visors firing upon them. "Autotroopers. They're our answer to the Vehicons. We don't have nearly as many here with us, though." explained Groove.
As the battle continued, Finn and his mother got up and tried to flee towards where Groove said the rendezvous point was in the chaos... but their escape attempt went horribly wrong. Dropshhot had primed his rocket launcher and had it aimed at Blades. But Blades noticed, and just as he was about to fire, Blades slashed him. The rocket went wild and struck Hotlink in the shoulder.
At that moment, Hotlink had been pointing his flamethrower at Groove, and his finger was pressing the trigger as the rocket struck. The impact knocked him over, and his flamethrower went off and ignited a portion of the forest floor... including the part where Mrs. Gordon just happened to be running at that exact moment. The flames consumed her in an instant.
"NO!" shouted the Autobots, Hotlink, Dropshot, and Finn collectively.
"Huh, it looks like I got to see humans burning after all." remarked a grinning Sunstorm. He looked at Blades and said "Good job buddy! Thanks for the show!"
"Sunstorm! Don't make the situation worse!" growled Growl.
Too late, because Blades was utterly furious about the implication that the death of Mrs. Gordon was his fault. "What did you say to me you slag-licking bastard?!" he shrieked "I don't kill organic civilians! This is on you!" he said, pointing at Dropshot and Hotlink. "You're both going to pay in blood for this... especially you." he said, pointing at Dropshot in specific.
"Wait, me? Why am I the main culprit here? I understand partial blame, but this wasn't all my fault!" exclaimed a terrified Dropshot.
"It...It wasn't my intent to kill her!" stammered Hotlink "My aim was thrown off! Our orders were to not kill any civilians today, just take them in alive for..."
"Y...Yea! If you want to blame someone... fine, blame us, but you're just as guilty as we are! You're the one who redirected my rocket!" exclaimed Dropshot.
"What are you doing! Don't make him any angrier!" shouted Growl.
But it was a bit late for that. Blades unleashed a furious scream and charged straight at Dropshot with clear killing intent.
Suddenly, another green vortex appeared in the sky and a giant laser fired out of it, causing Blades to abort his and leap back. "What the slagging?!" exclaimed Blades
"Is this?!" exclaimed Dropshot.
"Maybe this means reinforcements!" exclaimed Sunstorm enthusiastically "Hell, yea, we'll see who's going to pay in blood now, Autobots." As soon as those words left his lips, they were surrounded by American military personnel. The surviving Decepticons all slowly raised their arms, then Hotlink got a call on his comlink.
He quickly listened to the message, then proclaimed "Decepticons! All of our fellows have already returned to base! While our tertiary goal was a failure and the success of our secondary goal remains ambiguous, our primary mission has been a complete success. We've done what we came here for, and that laser was a signal for us to return. Return to base everyone." he ordered.
Hotlink pressed a button, and then his body quickly disassembled like so many LEGO bricks and shot into the sky. The other Decepticons followed suit. The battle had ended in something of a tragic anticlimax.
Everybody stood silent and still for several moments, then Finn glanced over at the charred remains of his mother... and he broke down sobbing and he fell to the ground. One of the soldiers immediately put down his weapon and ran over to comfort him.
The blue fire-truck robot retracted his weapons, rubbed his eyes with the fingers of his left hand and muttered "Well that's... just... prime."
In a purple and green fortress hidden somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, the escaped Decepticons rematerialized. As soon as they did, Hotlink clutched the shoulder wound that he had received from the misfired rocket and slumped against the wall, and Sunstorm fell back on his aft.
"You look like Hell." said a large, looming figure "Your final report?"
Hotlink froze and saluted the looming figure, then he kicked Sunstorm. "Huh? Oh yea, I'm wingleader." he mumbled. Looking at the looming figure he said "Far as I know, sir... Hotlink, Growl, and Dropship burned that base, just like you wanted. Though I didn't see any captives..."
The figure sighed "Our loan from high command assisted them in that venture and returned with our prisoners. I'm well aware of, and pleased with, the results of our primary mission. I'm asking about your part of the mission."
"Well, sir... we encountered a human family while we were out burning the forest. Two adults and one spawn. In-between... child? and adult age. The spawn is alive and with the Autobots, but the adults kinda got charred." said Sunstorm sheepishly.
"Hotlink. You're the better speaker. Explain."
"Yea... well... we probably shouldn't pretend that we don't have signal jamming tech again. Apparently, Bitstream had the EMP I gave him kicked back into his face, and Tracer tried to be fancy and shoot the human's communication device right out of his hand. He hit it, but he misjudged the amount of damage that our weapons can do to a human, even if it isn't a direct hit."
Hotlink sighed "If I may, sir? What exactly, was the point in pretending that we don't have jamming technology? I will state, for the record, that I told you ahead of time that it was a bad idea, and by all appearances, I have been proven correct. Sir, if we must pretend like this again, might I suggest that instead, we pretend that we are having difficulty jamming their signals instead?"
"...Suggestion noted, soldier." said the commanding officer, in a tone that sounded like he was genuinely listening and Hotlink sighed in relief. "You may continue with your report."
Hotlink cringed "As for the other adult human... during the firefight with the Autobots, one of Dripshot's rockets got redirected at me, thanks to the Autobot Blades, just as I was firing at the Autobot Groove. The impact threw both me and my aim, and I accidentally shot the other parent with my flamethrower instead. I... apologize for not being able to follow orders, sir. And I acknowledge my error." apologized Hotlink, lowering his head.
The commander sighed "Disappointing... but understandable. Given the circumstances... it couldn't be helped. Alright, given the reason you failed to follow orders, and what you did manage to accomplish... I can't be to upset with you. Apology accepted, Hotlink. I'll give Gravedigger a call. She'll give you a full repair job."
"Yes sir. Thank you for your understanding and your mercy, Commander Scorponok." said Hotlink, saluting his commander once more and exiting the room.