C167 1970’s

C167 1970’s

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-Flashback/1970’s-

(A/N: B-127 = Bumblebee BTW. In case anyone didn’t realize yet.)

The sky above Earth was a vast, inky canvas, peppered with the distant pinpricks of stars...

Suddenly, a flash of light streaked across the darkness as a large, meteor-like object tore through the atmosphere, the heat of its entry creating a fiery trail in its wake.

Inside the object, an Autobot warrior braced himself, feeling the vibrations reverberate through his frame.

B-127 had been sent to Earth under direct orders from Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobots.

The war with the Decepticons had reached a critical point, and the AllSpark—an ancient artifact of immense power—had to be secured at all costs. Earth was a remote, seemingly insignificant planet, but it had become the last hope in the Autobots' desperate struggle.

B-127’s mission was clear: locate the AllSpark, secure it, and wait for reinforcements. He would hold his ground until the day the Autobots could retrieve it and end the war for good.

His pod crash-landed in a dense forest, the impact creating a deep crater in the earth, uprooting trees and sending debris flying in all directions. The ground trembled, the air thick with dust and the smell of burning vegetation.

B-127 forced the pod open and stepped out, his servos whirring as he adjusted to the planet’s gravity. His bright blue optics scanned the area, taking in his surroundings—tall trees, thick foliage, and the distant sounds of wildlife. Earth was a stark contrast to Cybertron, but there was a strange beauty to it.

He activated his comm link, preparing to contact Optimus Prime to confirm his arrival. But before he could even send a signal, something caught his attention—a series of fiery streaks tearing through the sky, heading straight for his position.

“?!” B-127’s optics widened in alarm as he realized what he was seeing: Decepticons.

“No...” he muttered to himself, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks.

He had been followed.

Without wasting a second, B-127 turned and ran, rushing off into the forest, his heavy metal feet kicking up dirt and rocks as he raced through the trees.

He knew he was outnumbered—his scanners confirmed at least a dozen Decepticons descending upon him, their signals strong and closing in fast. His only hope was to outmaneuver them, to use the dense forest and the cover of night to his advantage.

But the Decepticons were relentless. They crashed through the trees with brute force, transforming mid-air to reveal their true forms—hulking, menacing machines, their optics glowing a menacing red in the darkness.

Leading them was Blitzwing, a high-ranking Decepticon known for his ruthlessness and tactical mind.

[Insert picture of Blitzwing here]

B-127 recognized Blitzwing immediately. This was no ordinary Decepticon squad—this was a kill team sent specifically to eliminate him.

As Blitzwing and his followers began their pursuit, catching up to the feeling Autobot in no time, B-127 was forced to hide, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

The first encounter was swift and brutal.

A Decepticon scout, moving ahead of the group, suddenly found himself under attack as B-127 burst from the underbrush, his arm transforming into a plasma cannon. He fired a concentrated blast at the scout’s chest, the energy tearing through its armor and circuits. The Decepticon stumbled back, its optics flickering before it collapsed in a smoking heap, its spark extinguished.

But there was no time to celebrate the small victory. B-127 could hear the others closing in, their heavy footsteps shaking the ground. He ran away once again, his sensors on high alert, searching for the next opportunity to strike.

The next attack came from above. A flying Decepticon swooped down, unleashing a barrage of missiles. B-127 swerved to avoid the explosions, the shockwaves tearing through the trees and sending splinters flying. He retaliated with a burst of plasma fire, but the enemy was too fast, banking sharply to avoid the shots.

Undeterred, B-127 switched tactics, grabbing onto a thick branch and using it to swing himself up into the canopy. From this vantage point, he had a better view of the battlefield.

As the Decepticon circled back for another pass, B-127 aimed carefully, timing his shot just as his enemy arrived.

Peter could see the confusion and mistrust in Bumblebee’s eyes. He raised his hands in a calming gesture, his voice gentle but firm. “Hey, hey, take it easy. I’m not your enemy. I’m trying to help you.”

But Bumblebee’s mind was still clouded with fear and uncertainty. He didn’t recognize this human—or whatever he was—and the room he was in felt like a cage.

His sensors scanned his surroundings, finding no familiar energy signatures, no Autobot communications were coming through either. To him, this place looked like a prison...

“Let me out!” Bumblebee demanded, his voice filled with a scared desperation.

But before Peter could react, Bumblebee’s arm pulsed, the blaster that had been aimed at Peter’s head charging up with a high-pitched whine. In a split second, Bumblebee fired, a bolt of concentrated energy ripping through the air toward Peter.

Peter barely had time to react, his instincts taking over as he reached out with the Force, forming an invisible barrier that redirected the blast upward. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through the room, rattling the walls and sending sparks flying from the ceiling.

“You need to relax and take a breath.” Peter held his hands up, his voice calm. “I’m not trying to hurt or trap you!”

But Bumblebee wasn’t listening. The disorientation, the fear, and the memories of the Decepticons were too overwhelming. He was like a soldier with PTSD, his mind constantly on high alert, haunted by memories that played out like a never-ending battle.

Without another word, he charged at Peter with surprising speed, his heavy footsteps shaking the ground with each step. “I won’t let you trick me!” he roared, his arm shifting from blaster to a massive, metal fist.

Rocket, who had been watching in shock, snapped out of his daze and bolted toward his workbench, grabbing for the nearest weapon. “Quill, I’m grabbing my baby’s! We gotta—”

“No!” Peter interrupted, his voice firm as he sidestepped Bumblebee’s charging fist, narrowly avoiding a devastating blow that cratered the floor where he had just been standing. “Stay out of this, Rocket! I’m not trying to hurt him!”

Rocket hesitated, his fingers gripping the handle of his weapon, but seeing the determination in Peter’s eyes, he reluctantly backed off. “You’re insane...” he muttered, watching the chaos unfold.

Bumblebee didn’t stop, launching another attack as he swung his other arm at Peter, this time transforming it into a spinning blade. The weapon sliced through the air with a metallic screech, aiming to cleave Peter in two.

Peter raised his hand, summoning the Force once more to halt Bumblebee’s strike mid-swing. The blade hovered inches from Peter’s face, the air around it crackling with energy.

“Hey, listen to me!” Peter spoke loud and clear for Bumblebee to hear. “You’re not being imprisoned or anything! You’re safe! You’re with friends!”

Suddenly, Bumblebee faltered, his movements slowing as a flicker of doubt crossed his optics. He hesitated, unsure if what he was seeing was real.

The way Peter defended himself with some sort of invisible energy—without attacking—didn’t match the Decepticons he had fought.

“What... what are you...?” Bumblebee muttered, his voice filled with uncertainty.

Peter took a deep breath, sensing the shift in Bumblebee’s demeanor. He slowly lowered his hand, releasing his hold on Bumblebee’s blade, allowing the Autobot to step back.

“I’m Peter,” Peter said, his voice calm.

Bumblebee’s optics narrowed as he took a step back, still on edge but no longer attacking. He glanced around the room, his sensors picking up on the energy signatures surrounding him. This wasn’t a Decepticon facility... It didn’t feel like one, either.

Then, something caught his eye—a small, cube-like object hanging from a necklace wrapped around Peter’s hand. Bumblebee’s optics widened in shock as he recognized the object instantly.

“The AllSpark...!” Bumblebee exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief. His mind raced as he tried to comprehend how this organic creature had come into possession of such a powerful Cybertronian artifact.

He stared at Peter, his optics filled with a mix of confusion and awe. “Did... Did you heal me?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly as he pieced everything together.

Peter nodded, holding up the AllSpark for Bumblebee to see. “Yeah... Your core thing was damaged. I couldn’t fix it myself, so I used this.”

Bumblebee was at a loss for words. The AllSpark was the very essence of Cybertron, the life force of his people. For a non-Cybertronian to wield its power... It should have been impossible. And yet, here was this human—or whatever Peter was—who had done the impossible.

Before Bumblebee could ask any more questions, a sudden transmission interrupted them, crackling to life over Bumblebee’s comms, somehow penetrating the now-damaged shielding of the room.

Bumblebee’s optics flickered as the message played, his speakers projecting the voice for Peter and Rocket to hear.

“This is Optimus Prime...” The voice was deep and resonant, carrying authority and quiet strength. “B-127... If you’re still out there, the Decepticons have discovered the location of the AllSpark. Our battle is far from over. Prepare for our arrival and secure the AllSpark at all costs. It must not fall into Megatron’s hands...”

A/N: 2306 words :) ????????