Beeps and Buzzes

⚔️ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1

　　　
　　　

Today, a majority of your thoughts orbited around one single question; since when did stalking become a part of your repertoire?

Right from the start of this all, you've tailed others. Beginning with Leo during those awkward years at high school (some regrets about that), then to Sam (starting a butterfly effect), from actively hunting down Optimus and currently stalking some wannabe scooby doo gang.

Carrying a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you blatantly tailed behind four kids, to whom most likely broke in under the pretence of having 'conquered' the forbidden zone. Things like this had happened before, but typically Cade made sure to intercept them first. Largely, and you couldn't stress this enough, because you'd rather face off against the likes of Megatron than attempt to be cordial with other humans.

Sadly, Cade was preoccupied and to be contacted only for emergencies. This didn't constitute as one, so you suffered.

Weighing up all your options, wanting these trespassers gone and off your conscious, remaining as inconspicuous as your dulled clothing would allow. Tempted to flash your metal arm, set off a couple of rounds, scare them off! Keep these guys away from the very real dangers of this place before they wound up critically injured or worse.

Lacking a well thought, coherent plan only went on to complicate things. Failing to act in time as a couple of Homeland Security Drones thundered into the picture with that shambling walk and huge turrets - on a good day, these things posed no problem. On days like these however... bad news.

Further exacerbating this god-awful situation (whilst crouched behind an eviscerated van), another kid randomly showed up perfectly for some kind of Dystopian Horror movie. Destroying both drones with two bottles of Mountain Dew tied together by string, shouting commands! That was all without mentioning some classification of tiny Cybertronian whizzing around the struts pulling off a crude rendition of Luke Skywalker VS AT-AT manoeuvre.

Immediate was the realisation that you were very soon going to be out of your depth. You couldn't guard reckless kids while also trying to destroy the drones. Times before you had an army and well trained soldiers backing you up, these days it was just whoever responded to your distress signal first.

Blindly groping for your radio, watching from your hiding spot as the kids started running off into the apocalyptic wilderness. Only pursuing after its turret rotated far enough you wouldn't stray into its line of sight, wanting to maintain some element of surprise.

By the time you pressed down on the call button, those kids had already scarpered.

"Cade - Kids have broken in, currently got a couple of Homeland Drones on their asses"

"Great. Where are you?"

"Approaching the street with Primes head on a banner, just beside the stacks"

"Alright. I'm not far. Just make sure they don't get killed"

"Geez. No concern for the veteran Alien Wrangler"

You didn't make it as far as hearing his rebuttal before having to duck inside another building, flush against a wall. The drone had stopped to search, the turret performing a slow rotation before continuing to trek forwards.

Nosing in from around the corner, fiddling with a velcro strap super glued onto the underside of your radio before slotting it back into position. Sticking your head out from behind your ramshackle cover, cherry picking from a choice selection of great words as a rotund mass of copper and rust rose up. Obviously a Cybertronian. Far, far too obvious in broad daylight.