“Oh, smelt, they’re sending a whole army!”

Scoop ran madly in a circle before finally scrambling behind Crosshairs, trying to make himself as small as possible. Despite his attempts, his hulking form was still considerably larger than his makeshift cover.

“If there was a scrapping army, they’d be coming through that door!” Ricochet pointed at the sealed security door on the other side of the room. “They’se bein’ cute, tryin’ to go all black-ops on us. They tricked the autoguns.”

“Yeah, but that’s still guys in the base, right?” Crosshairs leaned on Scoop’s shoulder, examining his fingertips with casual indifference. “That’s still bad or something.”

“Oh, no…”

“Hrrrnn…” Ricochet looked up at Megatron. “Your crew… they this stupid?”

“Not really, no.”

[...]

THUNG. THUNG. THUNG.

Ricochet stared intently at the doorway, his face grim. His left hand held his Targetmaster weapon while his right gripped the release lever for Megatron’s chains.

THUNG. THUNG. THUNG.

The rhythmic pounding on the other side of the door had been going on for several minutes. The barrier had started to buckle, and would soon crack off its tracks under the assault from outside.

“Time’s up, Ricochet,” Megatron shouted from his dangling position above the pit. “And you’re not pulling that lever.”

THUNG. THUNG. THUNG.

“We’ll see ‘bout dat.”

“We certainly shall.”

THUNG. THUNG. THUNG.

The repeated strikes bent and twisted the doors. With each strike Ricochet’s grip tightened and the impulse to hurl Megatron down into the pit grew. Finally, the tracks popped, leaving the doors held up only by the ever-weakening frame.

THUNG.

The pounding stopped.

The door toppled from its frame, falling to the ground with a violent crash. The assailant strode through the cloud of dust and debris.

“Ricochet! Stop right now!”

“Okay, sure, no probs. Whatever you say.” Ricochet’s hand slacked on the lever and he lowered his weapon.

“And to think, Ricochet, you didn’t believe me.” Megatron turned his attention to the newcomer. “I expected you sooner, Optimus Prime.”

[...]

Prime’s gaze roamed the room, finally landing on his bodyguard. “Ricochet.”

“Y-yes Prime?”

“This deathtrap is probably the nicest I’ve ever come up with,” Prime said knowingly. “I am pleased you were able to get Megatron into it.”

“Oh... course, Prime,” Ricochet said through a fearful smile. “It is a nice one, ain’ it?”



- Do Over