Chapter 3

Ratchet reported what had happened to Optimus, who was eager to meet the two make-shift medics. “That’s real guts,” he said. “It’s a good thing those rookies were here for you, Ratchet.”

“Oh, well, Prime…One of them isn’t a rookie at all. Matter of fact, he--” The doors opened to the waiting room, where Sprocket lay, snoring, while Bertha stood at direct attention. “Sir! Yes, sir!” Prime chuckled. “I’m guessing she’s the rookie,” he said. Bertha smiled. “In all truth, sir, I came from the northern California faction. I’m under the command of this geezer here,” she said, pointing at the rumbling, sleeping bot that hadn’t come to attention yet.

“Let’s meet this man,” Optimus said. He cleared his throat. “Uhn…oof…Huh?” Sprocket opened his one eye. Shocked, Optimus asked, “Ratchet, you let this bot operate on you with one of his optics wielded shut? That’s guts,” He laughed, watching as Big Bertha helped Sprocket stand up.

“I’m sorry, I --My Primus. It really is…it really is you!” He held a hand out to him and lowered his head. “I remember when you first became Prime. My faction was under Decepticon rule, and…If I may speak so frank, sir; I never was happier the day we escaped that camp. And the only reason we escaped was because of you.”

Prime chuckled. He had heard this story from many rookies, but never a vet. “What’s your name, soldier?” he asked, his hand firmly grasping Sprocket’s.

“I’m Sprocket, sir. Formally Commander Sprocket of the 128th Autobot division. Currently living in Humboldt County, California. Bunch of hippies. Never did see a crazier bunch of people.” Optimus was flabbergasted.

“You are the Sprocket?” he asked, amazed. “I wasn’t supposed to take that mission on Polaris XII. Ratchet here insisted. Said he knew of a general who--”

Ratchet butted in, “Desperately needs a physical.” Everyone laughed. Bertha smiled. “Might as well, Sprocks; he does owe you one.

“But that’s--I---and--I rather have owed to me something more….commemorative,” Sprocket said, his good optic glistening with embarrassment and laughter.

“I’ll make sure he’s gentle,” Prime said, turning. Just then, a flash of red zoomed by. “Oh dear.” Turning around again, he sighed. “Maybe we should make sure the med bay is still in one shape,” he pointed down the hall. “The twin’s been having fun with you, Doc?”

“I’ll gladly clean up, if it means getting out of my physical,” Sprocket said, practically bouncing. Pushing him playfully from behind, Bertha grinned. “You big sissy, c’mon,” she said. “What are you so scared of?” She asked.

“I--” The old robot remembered the way Ratchet looked, all laid out on the table. He turned to look at the doctor in the face. “Okay, but…just this one time.”


“Atta boy,” Ratchet said. “It won’t hurt much. I promise.”
“I was scared of that,” Sprocket said.