Autobot-7712 Review

“You were a dockmaster’s assistant,” he said. “You recalibrated the loading clamps on Bay 7. You once saved a full shipment of high-grade energon by patching a leak with your own emergency sealant. Your designation was Petal. And you laughed when I made a mess.”

“She’s not a deserter,” 7712 said quietly.

“Did you find her?” Javelin asked.

He sat there in the dust, the storm howling around the transport’s broken frame. His mission clock ticked. He had two options: drag her back to Outpost Theta-9 for a court-martial and summary execution, or leave her here to fade alone.

“Designation of the deserter?” he asked. autobot-7712

The name hit his processor like a short-circuit.

But every time he passed the eastern edge of the outpost, where the dust was thickest, he would slow for just a step. And in his processor, he would hear a laugh—a bright, clean sound from a time before the War. “You were a dockmaster’s assistant,” he said

7712’s job was simple. Every third cycle, he walked the eastern supply trench, checked the pressure seals on the reserve energon cubes, and reported back. It was a two-klick round trip through terrain that had been bombed so many times it no longer resembled a planet’s surface—just sharp-edged craters and fine gray dust that got into every joint.

“No,” 7712 said. “The storm erased the trail. She’s gone.” Your designation was Petal