Carry The One

Sick Mind

Disclosure : I do not own Transformers Prime, it’s characters, the storyline, or anything of the sort. I am simply borrowing it to place a piece of my mind in it. I only own my OC, and I will, in a sense, carry the one. I give full credit to those who have created this wonderful series, and Hasbro. Read and Review my loves!

-- Lizzzard

~---~

“Optimus, you are not going to believe this.” Ratchet called, highlighting a signal and enhancing it. Optimus walked over, myself, as always, resting happily on his shoulder. “I just pinpointed the location of the  decepticon warship.”

Hearing this, the others joined us. “How did you penetrate their cloaking technology?”

“I didn't. I was experimenting with the different frequency wavelengths when I stumbled upon it. Their ship must be experiencing some kind of…. Electromagnetic breach.”

“With Megatron gone, and the element of surprise…” Arcee punched her first into her open hand.

“We could cause some serious damage.”

“Ratchet,” I called, looking at the screen as another signal popped up. “There's another one,”

“Also on the same frequency…” Ratchet highlighted the new signal. “An Autobot emergency beacon.”

“The  decepticons can wait,” Optimus called, straightening. “There may be Autobots in distress. Ratchet, bring your medical kit.”

He raised a hand to be which I climbed onto. “May I come with?” I asked, smiling broadly up at him. He gave me a pointed look and I sagged into myself. “Pleeease?” I smiled sweetly at him. “I could help Ratchet..” I turned to the other bot who was locking onto the coordinates.

He grumbled for a moment before freezing and looking at us. “Actually…..”

I grinned at Optimus as he sighed, lifting his hand back to his shoulder.

~----~

As soon as Optimus stepped through the ground bridge, dread and worry overtook me. My stomach cramped, but with Optimus’ insistent bothering me about eating, I actually felt something in it.

It was a dark, sandy place. There was a full moon just behind a sand dune that glistened brightly in the dark. From the moonlight a ship was visible through the winds carrying sand across the way. Parts were covered in sand, others rusted down from erosion.

“A crash landing,” Optimus rumbled. “Buried here for centuries.”

“Optimus,” I muttered, resting a hand on his cheek. “I do not like it. There's something terribly wrong…” He turned his optics to me, I returning the gaze. “My instincts have never been wrong before.”

“Nevertheless,” he softened his voice. “We must continue. I will not allow my Autobots to suffer anymore than they already have.”

Ratchet approached the side of it, his hand transforming into a laser, which he activated and cut through the metal, creating a door just large enough for Optimus to fit through. The bot in question kicked the metal in, climbing through into the ship’s hall first.

It was dark inside, the air heavy and thick with sorrow. Optimus and Ratchet activated a flashlight of some sort as they made their way through the hall.

“If they traveled in stasis mode, there may be survivors.” Ratchet called, feeling the walls carefully.

The ship groaned, itself shaking under the new weight introduced to it. Optimus’ face mask slipped into place, a hand reaching to steady me as he kneeled to the floor.