Categories > Cartoons > Transformers
The Autobot City buzzed with life as every available mech offered their services to fix the damages that happened during the Hate Plague. Under Optimus Prime's supervising optic, everyone worked in harmony, feeling that a new era of hope began. Although the Decepticons were far from defeated, the Autobots believed the worst had come to pass.
Even so, there was an Autobot that felt uneasy. In fact, though Ultra Magnus had been locked in his office since dawn, he had hardly done any work. He kept staring at the first lines of the first datapad he had picked up from his desk, while his processor was occupied with other thoughts entirely; thoughts about another Autobot.
Ultra Magnus knew he had to talk to Rodimus... Hot Rod, eventually. The Earth commander had already put it off for far too long. True, Ultra Magnus had been busy just like Hot Rod, who had taken up his responsibilities as Optimus' protégé again. Still, that wasn't an excuse. All they needed was five minutes tops. That could hardly interfere with their work.
Finding Hot Rod and address the matter, on the other hand, was a different matter entirely. Every time the two of them happened to be in the same room, Hot Rod found anyone to go to and engage them in conversation, probably aware that Ultra Magnus would be too discreet to try and cut in. So, a month went by just like that, and Ultra Magnus didn't get his chance to talk to Hot Rod.
The commander sighed and placed the datapad aside, deciding at last that he wouldn't be able to work after all. Resting his back against his chair, he pinched the bridge of his nose as if that would help matters somehow.
Perhaps... perhaps Hot Rod was avoiding him. Truth be told, Ultra Magnus couldn't really blame the young mech if that were the case, certainly not after what happened. Yes, Ultra Magnus wasn't himself back then, he was infected with the spores. Nevertheless, he did the unforgivable. He betrayed Hot Rod's trust and failed him when the young mech needed a friend the most.
You can't blame yourself for something you had no control of, old friend, Optimus told him when Ultra Magnus opened up to the resurrected Autobot leader. Ultra Magnus appreciated Prime's attempt to assuage his guilt, but the Earth commander couldn't forget that he was also a soldier. A soldier that lived above all else with honour; who had sworn loyalty to the Autobot cause and the Prime, whoever that was. Then he turned his back on his honour and loyalty and... he even enjoyed it. The sensation of satisfaction still lingered in his spark, a haunting memory out of many that plagued his processor from the time of the Hate Plague.
At times like this, Ultra Magnus felt disgusted with himself. He feared the Plague awoke in him thoughts and feelings that had always been there, merely waiting to be brought up on the surface. How could Ultra Magnus believe he was fighting against evil, when evil resided within him as well? Perhaps that was what Hot Rod realised too.
If that was true, Ultra Magnus wouldn't be surprised that the young one kept avoiding him. Still, the Earth commander wanted to settle things between them once and for all. So, Ultra Magnus stood up and headed for the exit, intending this time to hunt down Hot Rod until the young one finally decided to talk to him.
He certainly didn't expect to come face to face with the very mech he wanted to see when the door hissed open. Hot Rod looked up at Ultra Magnus, seeming just as surprised.
"Bad timing, huh?" the young mech said. Though he sounded nonchalant, his optics reflected a strange mix of disappointment and relief. "I guess I'll come back later, no need to keep you from work." He turned on his heel and prepared to leave, but Ultra Magnus grabbed him by his arm.
"Actually, Hot Rod, your timing was perfect," the commander said gently. "Care to step into my office for a while?"
Hot Rod made a half-shrugging motion. "Sure, why not?" he declared and stepped inside.
Ultra Magnus felt his spark sinking a bit. Hot Rod always put up a brave front for everyone to see, but the Earth commander could tell whenever the young mech felt nervous. It went with being Rodimus's advisor.
Am I so scary in his optics now? Ultra Magnus thought. He turned around, watching Hot Rod sit on a chair and pick up the datapad on Ultra Magnus's desk. The young mech fidgeted with the datapad, turning it on and off several times, until Ultra Magnus walked up to him and gently pulled the datapad away from Hot Rod’s fingers.
"Some habits die hard, I see," the Earth commander said with a small smile. Indeed, Ultra Magnus lost count of all the times he had to rescue any unfortunate datapads that got the 'Agitated Rodimus Prime' treatment.
"Well, you know..." Hot Rod said, smiling sheepishly. "I'm still that mech. Except for shorter and magenta-coloured."
Ultra Magnus chuckled softly. "Yes, I suppose you are." He sat down and put the datapad in a drawer before returning his gaze to the young mech. Ultra Magnus' mirth quietened down and he regarded Hot Rod with a serious expression on his features. "There's a reason I wanted to see you."
"Of course there's a reason," Hot Rod replied, looking at Ultra Magnus with a perfectly human 'Well, duh' expression. "I mean, there's a reason I wanted to see you too. But, heck, since there's something about old age before youth and all, you can go first."
Postponing, are we? Ultra Magnus noted with an inward smile. He couldn't for the life of him imagine what Hot Rod could possibly want to talk to him about though.
"Very well, I'll be brief," he finally said. He knitted his fingers together and locked his gaze on Hot Rod. "I'm sorry about what I said while under the influence of the infection. You're by no means a puny wimp who became a Prime because of a fluke. In fact, you've led the Autobots far better than I would have ever done, because you have the fire and passion that all true Primes have. That's what the Matrix saw in you when it chose you, not your age. So don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise, all right?"
Hot Rod stared at Ultra Magnus for many long moments, and then the most unusual sound filled the office. Hot Rod laughed, loud and clear.
Ultra Magnus' optics reflected his frowning expression. There he was, apologising to the kid, and said kid was barely bracing himself in order not to end up rolling on the floor.
"What's so funny, pray tell?" he asked in an affronted tone.
"Sorry, sorry," Hot Rod said. He composed himself, but he still grinned broadly as he looked at Ultra Magnus. "First of all, your memory isn't what it used to be. You only said I was a puny wimp."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Ultra Magnus said with a mild huff.
"Not really," Hot Rod replied, scratching the back of his head in an embarrassed manner. "It's just... For the last month, I have been plucking up the courage to apologise to you for being a pain in the aft in my Rodimus days."
"Language," Ultra Magnus muttered out of habit, but then Hot Rod's words sank in. He stared at the young mech incredulously. "You were?"
Hot Rod nodded. "Come on, my so-called fire and passion got us in trouble way too many times and I lacked what others had plenty of: experience and patience," he said. "You offered those when no one else would, so... thanks. And I'm sorry for taking me that long to appreciate your help."
Ultra Magnus wasn't a mech who was often at a loss. But, right now, he had to admit that Hot Rod left him almost speechless.
"I'm... not sure what I'm supposed to say."
"How about 'You're welcome' for starters?" Hot Rod answered with a grin.
Primus, the kid was almost impossible at times! Nevertheless, Ultra Magnus smiled fondly before he could help it.
"You're welcome. And, for the record, you weren't a pain in the aft... much."
Hot Rod couldn't help it either. His grin broadened, thus sealing their understanding.
The End.
Even so, there was an Autobot that felt uneasy. In fact, though Ultra Magnus had been locked in his office since dawn, he had hardly done any work. He kept staring at the first lines of the first datapad he had picked up from his desk, while his processor was occupied with other thoughts entirely; thoughts about another Autobot.
Ultra Magnus knew he had to talk to Rodimus... Hot Rod, eventually. The Earth commander had already put it off for far too long. True, Ultra Magnus had been busy just like Hot Rod, who had taken up his responsibilities as Optimus' protégé again. Still, that wasn't an excuse. All they needed was five minutes tops. That could hardly interfere with their work.
Finding Hot Rod and address the matter, on the other hand, was a different matter entirely. Every time the two of them happened to be in the same room, Hot Rod found anyone to go to and engage them in conversation, probably aware that Ultra Magnus would be too discreet to try and cut in. So, a month went by just like that, and Ultra Magnus didn't get his chance to talk to Hot Rod.
The commander sighed and placed the datapad aside, deciding at last that he wouldn't be able to work after all. Resting his back against his chair, he pinched the bridge of his nose as if that would help matters somehow.
Perhaps... perhaps Hot Rod was avoiding him. Truth be told, Ultra Magnus couldn't really blame the young mech if that were the case, certainly not after what happened. Yes, Ultra Magnus wasn't himself back then, he was infected with the spores. Nevertheless, he did the unforgivable. He betrayed Hot Rod's trust and failed him when the young mech needed a friend the most.
You can't blame yourself for something you had no control of, old friend, Optimus told him when Ultra Magnus opened up to the resurrected Autobot leader. Ultra Magnus appreciated Prime's attempt to assuage his guilt, but the Earth commander couldn't forget that he was also a soldier. A soldier that lived above all else with honour; who had sworn loyalty to the Autobot cause and the Prime, whoever that was. Then he turned his back on his honour and loyalty and... he even enjoyed it. The sensation of satisfaction still lingered in his spark, a haunting memory out of many that plagued his processor from the time of the Hate Plague.
At times like this, Ultra Magnus felt disgusted with himself. He feared the Plague awoke in him thoughts and feelings that had always been there, merely waiting to be brought up on the surface. How could Ultra Magnus believe he was fighting against evil, when evil resided within him as well? Perhaps that was what Hot Rod realised too.
If that was true, Ultra Magnus wouldn't be surprised that the young one kept avoiding him. Still, the Earth commander wanted to settle things between them once and for all. So, Ultra Magnus stood up and headed for the exit, intending this time to hunt down Hot Rod until the young one finally decided to talk to him.
He certainly didn't expect to come face to face with the very mech he wanted to see when the door hissed open. Hot Rod looked up at Ultra Magnus, seeming just as surprised.
"Bad timing, huh?" the young mech said. Though he sounded nonchalant, his optics reflected a strange mix of disappointment and relief. "I guess I'll come back later, no need to keep you from work." He turned on his heel and prepared to leave, but Ultra Magnus grabbed him by his arm.
"Actually, Hot Rod, your timing was perfect," the commander said gently. "Care to step into my office for a while?"
Hot Rod made a half-shrugging motion. "Sure, why not?" he declared and stepped inside.
Ultra Magnus felt his spark sinking a bit. Hot Rod always put up a brave front for everyone to see, but the Earth commander could tell whenever the young mech felt nervous. It went with being Rodimus's advisor.
Am I so scary in his optics now? Ultra Magnus thought. He turned around, watching Hot Rod sit on a chair and pick up the datapad on Ultra Magnus's desk. The young mech fidgeted with the datapad, turning it on and off several times, until Ultra Magnus walked up to him and gently pulled the datapad away from Hot Rod’s fingers.
"Some habits die hard, I see," the Earth commander said with a small smile. Indeed, Ultra Magnus lost count of all the times he had to rescue any unfortunate datapads that got the 'Agitated Rodimus Prime' treatment.
"Well, you know..." Hot Rod said, smiling sheepishly. "I'm still that mech. Except for shorter and magenta-coloured."
Ultra Magnus chuckled softly. "Yes, I suppose you are." He sat down and put the datapad in a drawer before returning his gaze to the young mech. Ultra Magnus' mirth quietened down and he regarded Hot Rod with a serious expression on his features. "There's a reason I wanted to see you."
"Of course there's a reason," Hot Rod replied, looking at Ultra Magnus with a perfectly human 'Well, duh' expression. "I mean, there's a reason I wanted to see you too. But, heck, since there's something about old age before youth and all, you can go first."
Postponing, are we? Ultra Magnus noted with an inward smile. He couldn't for the life of him imagine what Hot Rod could possibly want to talk to him about though.
"Very well, I'll be brief," he finally said. He knitted his fingers together and locked his gaze on Hot Rod. "I'm sorry about what I said while under the influence of the infection. You're by no means a puny wimp who became a Prime because of a fluke. In fact, you've led the Autobots far better than I would have ever done, because you have the fire and passion that all true Primes have. That's what the Matrix saw in you when it chose you, not your age. So don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise, all right?"
Hot Rod stared at Ultra Magnus for many long moments, and then the most unusual sound filled the office. Hot Rod laughed, loud and clear.
Ultra Magnus' optics reflected his frowning expression. There he was, apologising to the kid, and said kid was barely bracing himself in order not to end up rolling on the floor.
"What's so funny, pray tell?" he asked in an affronted tone.
"Sorry, sorry," Hot Rod said. He composed himself, but he still grinned broadly as he looked at Ultra Magnus. "First of all, your memory isn't what it used to be. You only said I was a puny wimp."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Ultra Magnus said with a mild huff.
"Not really," Hot Rod replied, scratching the back of his head in an embarrassed manner. "It's just... For the last month, I have been plucking up the courage to apologise to you for being a pain in the aft in my Rodimus days."
"Language," Ultra Magnus muttered out of habit, but then Hot Rod's words sank in. He stared at the young mech incredulously. "You were?"
Hot Rod nodded. "Come on, my so-called fire and passion got us in trouble way too many times and I lacked what others had plenty of: experience and patience," he said. "You offered those when no one else would, so... thanks. And I'm sorry for taking me that long to appreciate your help."
Ultra Magnus wasn't a mech who was often at a loss. But, right now, he had to admit that Hot Rod left him almost speechless.
"I'm... not sure what I'm supposed to say."
"How about 'You're welcome' for starters?" Hot Rod answered with a grin.
Primus, the kid was almost impossible at times! Nevertheless, Ultra Magnus smiled fondly before he could help it.
"You're welcome. And, for the record, you weren't a pain in the aft... much."
Hot Rod couldn't help it either. His grin broadened, thus sealing their understanding.
The End.
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