Hey, if you’re still doing that flashfic game, Ratchet with 88? :3
Ratchet - 88: Baby, I’m an Anarchist by Against Me!
Ratchet wasn’t really on board with all this Decepticon nonsense getting people hurt, he never had been, he’d be clear as he needed to be about that and had been time and time again, especially as more and more of the people he was around started falling down their rhetorical rabbit-holes and going ahead and signing up and getting their spark chamber gouged into and all that lovely shuttlescrap.
That didn’t mean he had any love for the reigning class, either. Not even remotely. But transitioning from one oppressive state to another, likely just as oppressive state, wouldn’t solve anything. Peace through tyranny, peh. And in the meantime there would be violence, people would be getting hurt, and Ratchet would be here patching them up with parts he scrounged up because that was what he did.
Several years later, he’d tell an alien he was a conscientious objector. That wasn’t quite right, because he’d done his share of violence, one way or another; in this stupid war he’d gotten swept up in it and he did what he had to, sure. He wasn’t going to let himself be scrapped this late in the game. But it had all gone wrong, the minute state-building got into the game, and he’d maintain that for as long as it took for the next generation of Cybertronions to wise the frag up.