Hunter Green (Part 12)
Dec. 6th, 2008 03:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ante_luceHunter bunny was stubborn for most of the beginning, then started running and didn't fragging stop. Eesh.
Title: Hunter Green (Part 12)
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Same as before
Wheeljack hovered about the form lying on the worktable they’d set up in his lab, checking its circuitry and tubing. Building a new chassis was technically a simple affair. Ratchet had plenty of experience with repairing mechs, Grapple and Hoist had manufactured more parts since they’d woken on Earth for the Autobots than anyone else he knew, and he himself was pretty handy with welder and wrench, if he did say so himself.
“That’s because you’ve slagged yourself so many times, you would have eventually learnt your way around the basic Cybertronian internals by sheer dint of seeing your own so often.” The sarcastic comment from the mech standing in the doorway of his lab clued him into the fact that he had said the last out loud. Laughing softly, he greeted the mech, beckoning him in with a wave and a cheery flicker of his head fins.
“What can I do for you, Ratchet?”
“You can not blow yourself up this week, and not blow up Hunter’s new chassis, both now and when the youngling makes his first transfer into it.”
The inventor’s doorwings drooped sheepishly. “I haven’t and I won’t, promise.”
The medic smirked at him, and gave the new chassis a cursory scan. “I know. It looks fine. Shall we bring Hunter in for a test run?”
Wheeljack hesitated. “I don’t know, Perceptor hasn’t figured out how to split him from Prowl yet, and Prowl hasn’t woken up since Red Alert spoke to him for you to get a scan on him.”
“That is why Perceptor’s proposing we keep the two frames connected during the test, with Hunter controlling the new frame from Prowl’s CPU. This way the kid can get a feel for the new body. It is, after all, a bit of a size change.”
“I don’t understand why we don’t just build a grown mech’s frame for him.” It had been an often argued point between Wheeljack and Ratchet and the other researchers. The CMO cycled air in a sigh.
“We’ve been over this. We have no idea how a transfer of this sort will work, so the smaller frame will function as a scale model for us, making it easier to manage any problems that might arise. It will also be easier for Hunter to learn to control. He can always upgrade back to a full sized frame in the future.”
Wheeljack didn’t look too convinced, and Ratchet sighed again.
“And Hunter’s still a youngling, and that frame would remind the rest of the mechs in this base of that fact. So, test run?”
The inventor relented. “Alright. Bring the youngling in whenever.”
“Thank you.”
========================================
Hunter shifted, then stilled immediately when the mech across the room directed a sharp glance at him. Inwardly, the youngling sighed. It looked like he was going to be stuck here for a while. Or, until Ratchet got tired of waiting for Red Alert to release him and came down to the security room to drag him to Wheeljack’s lab. His doorwings flicked in amusement, and he quickly hid the tiny grin from the security director’s searching gaze.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
Hunter’s optics shuttered briefly in surprise. “Um… No sir.”
“My reports have started coming back with comments and observations I would not expect from a mech like Ironhide. You’ve been handling information that you are most certainly not cleared for.”
The green mech remained silent, and Red Alert frowned before continuing.
“I don’t have much fondness for you. That’s no secret. Your origins and your presence in the Ark still send my security programming into overdrive. Nothing personal, please understand, but annoying nonetheless.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
Doorwings dipped low, and it was the Lamborghini’s turn to keep silent. Then, reluctantly, he spoke again. “You aren’t to blame. Even I can admit that. Just… stop doing Prow-, Ironhide’s work.”
“Yes sir.”
“Good. Inferno, either come in or go away. Just quit skulking around outside.”
The fire truck slipped into the room, sending a supportive smile Hunter’s way before sighing and resting his hands on the back of Red Alert’s chair.
“Done with the youngling yet, Red? Ratchet’s about to breath fire.”
“That should be right up your alley.”
“Red.”
“Fine. Hunter can go.”
========================================
Inferno walked Hunter to Wheeljack’s lab. “Red wasn’t too rough on you, was he? We keep telling him to cut you some slack.”
“He’s just doing his job.”
The fire truck sighed at the youngling’s answer. “But you’ve been nothing but cooperative since coming here, and he’s seen that with his own optics. You’d think that’d merit some easing off. Frag, he keeps a closer eye on you than on the twins.”
“He just misses Prowl, as you’ve mentioned.” A wry expression accompanied Hunter’s words. “I think everyone in the Ark does.”
“Yeah. Sunstreaker was muttering something about that being the reason he painted you a different colour. Seems he overheard some of the mechs talking to you in the rec. room ‘bout Prowl. You didn’t need to put up with that, y’know.”
Hunter glanced down, his next words coming out softly. “I… didn’t mind. It’s good to see that the bots he cared so much about return the sentiment. I wish I could have met him in person.”
“Oh, you will. He’ll like you, I think.” The fire truck patted the other mech on the shoulder, and received a quick smile in return.
“Thanks, Inferno.”
========================================
The first trial run of Hunter’s new chassis was going well. Then again, all he’d done so far was get used to the new frame connected to Prowl’s, and work on controlling it from his current one.
“Well?” Wheeljack prompted.
“It feels odd. Everything looks… bigger through these optics.”
“That’s to be expected. Try making it sit up.”
“‘Kay.” As the youngling did as asked, he overbalanced and tipped the second body forward a bit too quickly. Ratchet caught it before it could fall and pull out the cable connecting it to the other frame.
“Careful! We don’t know what will happen to you if you lose the link to the other frame, and the spark.”
“Sorry.” Hunter winced as he righted the smaller chassis.
“Good thing you haven’t transferred over yet. At least you’ll be able to get used to moving your new body around first.” The inventor added, then looked concerned at Hunter’s puzzled expression.
“Something wrong?”
“Nothing, just feeling a little off kilter. This chassis doesn’t have all the sensory input of Prowl’s.”
“Wha- Oh! The doorwings. Right, we’ll figure out a way to add those. Well, we’re done for today.” He jotted down notes on a datapad as Hunter disconnected from the smaller frame.
“Come back tomorrow, same time. I won’t have the sensory panels ready for a while yet, but we can still work on motor control.”
========================================
More such sessions took place, and Hunter grew more used to moving his new frame around. The first time he made it walk (and a few times after that as well), a cautious Skyfire was standing in front of the new frame, arms reaching out to grab hold in case it fell.
Wheeljack and Ratchet had gently ribbed the shuttle later, once they were the only ones left in the lab, about acting like a creator watching his sparkling take its first steps. It didn’t help that to facilitate the transition, Prowl’s chassis had been returned to its black and white paint job, and Hunter’s future one was painted with the same green they now associated with the youngling.
The large mech had laughed in a slightly embarrassed manner, before quickly changing the subject. “This disconnection issue is troubling. Neither Hunter nor Prowl can stay tied to the other’s side forever once we separate them, and the risk of cutting Hunter off from the spark doesn’t make me feel any better.”
The other mechs nodded, Wheeljack voicing his agreement. “That is going to be a problem. Perhaps it would be better not to let Hunter transfer completely until we’ve figured out a solution.”
Skyfire sighed, one hand coming up to pinch his nose bridge in frustration. “On that note, have you managed to scan Prowl?”
It was Ratchet’s turn to sigh. “No, he hasn’t made an appearance since that last time.” With a short laugh the CMO added. “Even now the fragger’s avoiding his checkups. Figures.”
“Well, I can’t imagine why, your bedside manner is always so delightful.” At Ratchet’s glare, engineer and researcher lost it and broke out in snickers, ducking the medic’s half hearted swipe with ease.
========================================
It was inevitable, really. Things had been quiet as Megatron recovered from their last battle, and now that he was fully functional again, the Decepticon Commander was furious, and hankering for revenge. The attacks were vicious, and the Autobots were further hampered by the fact that they no longer had Prowl coordinating the fight.
While refuelling during a lull in the attempts, conversation turned to discussion of their next step.
“Frag. We have to hit the ‘Cons hard enough to make them quit.”
“That’s always your solution, ‘Hide.” Ratchet snarked tiredly, the sheer number of repairs he was having to make clearly wearing on him.
“Hasn’t failed me yet.”
“You, argh.” It was even more troubling that the medic didn’t bother to inflict hurt on Ironhide. Jazz spoke up then, diverting them from Ratchet’s disquieting behaviour.
“How are they even keeping up this pace? We’ve been giving as good as we get from them, I’m surprised half the seekers can actually stay in the air!”
“Fear’s a good motivator. Megatron’s in a temper, and that makes them pretty eager to obey orders and get back into action quick, even if it means making some creative repairs, or skipping repairs altogether.” The rust red mech replied, drawing an ill-tempered growl from their CMO before asking.
“How are Smokescreen and Trailbreaker coping with tactical duties?”
Jazz shrugged. “Doing their best, but they’re more diversion and defence. We’re not going to fall, but we’re definitely not hitting as hard as we could.”
“And Prowl’s still a no show. Can we get Hunter to assist?”
Both Ratchet and Jazz stared at Ironhide, incredulous. The medic spoke first. “You can’t be serious. He’s a youngling.”
Ironhide argued back. “He’s also got control all of Prowl’s programming. And he’s given input before.”
“A battle situation is markedly different from going through security reports and making suggestions!” Ratchet’s exclamation sounded at the same time as Jazz’s flat, “We’re not sending him out.”
Ironhide raised his hands in a placating manner. “I’m just saying. The kid did well in his first battle. Beat the ‘Cons and all.”
“We won that battle because the ‘Cons weren’t expecting their ‘drone’ to turn against them. We had the advantage of surprise, Megatron was offline and so were a number of the ‘Con’s top tier. Plus, everyone was too fired up about ‘Prowl’ to be denied a victory. Hunter, is completely unproven. Half the mechs rolling out will be questioning every decision he makes instead of focusing on the ‘Cons!”
“We don’t have to chuck him onto the field, I’m not decrepit in the processors yet, Jazz. Just have him run data through Prowl’s battle computer and give us anything he can. Why not use whatever help’s available?”
Their responses were cut off when the alarms sounded.
“Bring it up to Prime later, ‘Hide. For now, we got to get moving.”
“Don’t get slagged, you two.”
“Love you too, Ratch’.”
========================================
Elsewhere in the base, the following conversation was taking place at the same time.
“Hey. Hunter.”
“Yes, Sideswipe?”
“Don’t be pulling anything stupid now. You hear me?”
“I have no idea of what you mean.” Hunter’s tone definitely carried a hint of ‘You should be the one to talk’.
“I’m saying, don’t go trying some stunt to make us think you’re actually a ‘Con and showing your true colours now, so that we’ll have less reservations about deleting you and possibly getting Prowl back quicker. We’re in some slag now, but we’ve been in worse, and we’ll deal with it, with or without the tight aft. So don’t.”
“Oh. Darn. My clever plot has been found out. Whatever shall I do.” The dry response was met with a quick smirk, before the frontliner’s expression went neutral again.
“Yeah. Just so you know that.
“Nice to know you care.” Hunter was equally neutral.
“It’s for Blue’s sake.”
“Like I said. I should thank you for looking out for him. So…” The once more black and white mech leant closer, lips a scant inch from a suddenly tense Sideswipe’s audio.
“You really are too clever for me, Sideswipe.”
Prowl’s voice, perfectly mimicked, saying those words in a breathlessly admiring tone caused the red Lamborghini to nearly fall over. Hunter laughed out loud proper at the mech’s expression, as Sideswipe sputtered and rebooted his audios.
“You… Frag, if you’re trying to convince me you’re an evil ‘Con, you’re doing a slagging good job. But it won’t work, ‘cos I’m on to you!”
Hunter’s response was cut off when the alarms sounded.
“Don’t get slagged, you two.”
“Nice to know you care.”
“It’s for Blue’s sake.”
A parting exchange of smirks, and Sideswipe was gone.
========================================
Jazz ducked Skywarp’s weapons fire, noticing that the mech faltered in mid attack, then glanced at Starscream. The Air Commander grimaced, but nodded sharply, and Skywarp vanished. Starscream caught Jazz’s gaze, and set upon him, driving the Special Ops mech back, moving the both of them away from the battle.
“What the slag are you up to, Screamer? Where did you send ‘Warp?”
The seeker hissed lowly, swinging at the Porsche’s head and barely missing. “Use your processors, Autotrash. I didn’t send him anywhere. Megatron did.”
“Pit. This is a diversion, isn’t it.” Jazz went down, felled by a strike he hadn’t been able to avoid in time, caught up in the revelation, but managed to hit Starscream in the wing with a lucky shot.
“Clever mech.” Starscream’s tone was almost mocking. “Put up a good show. The fragger twigs on, he might figure out everything else. And mute it; I got too much to say without you interrupting.”
Both began to grapple on the ground, and the jet continued. “Megatron thinks Prowl broke free that day, and was the one to shoot him.”
The jet’s air intakes gasped as Jazz managed to slam him into the ground. “Watch it!”
“Look, you said a good show. Now get on with it.” The saboteur ignored the flier’s snarl, ducking the fist aimed at his faceplates.
“He suspects that the A.I. might be minimally sapient, and can be coaxed to join him if your tactician’s mind can be neutralised. Skywarp, Soundwave and Astrotrain are to retrieve ‘Prowl’ before you lot notice. Rescue or kill the brat, I don’t care, just keep him out of Megatron's hands.”
“Why Astrotrain?”
Starscream scowled, twisting and managing to reverse their positions. “The mech was the one responsible for Prowl’s ‘interrogation'.”
“Frag. And if I run back to base, I’ll give us both away.”
The seeker replied with a dark laugh. “Damned one way and slagged the other. Sucks, doesn’t it?”
“Guess you’d know better than anyone.” Jazz commed Optimus Prime, and fired an message back to the skeleton crew at the Ark to warn them.
“Well. Sorry ‘Screamer. And thanks. Again.” Jazz kicked the flier in the midsection, sending him tumbling backwards, before incapacitating the jet with his trademark light and sound attack, then racing for the thickest part of the battle, where he wouldn’t be able to think about the situation at the Ark.
========================================
Their return to base was made at top speed. Megatron had smirked while facing off with Prime, and sent the command to his troops to fall back, just as Blaster commed all of the Autobots with news of the breach, and the loss of Hunter.
They returned to find minimal damage to the base, but the condition of the crewmembers left guarding the base was worrying. Cliffjumper was offline, hurriedly being patched and held together by Grapple and Hoist, as other, less critical mechs assisted each other with field repairs. Energon stained the ground, and scraps of plating were littered about. Blaster limped forward, a sober look on his faceplates. Prime sighed.
“How bad?”
“Most of this was during the first attack. Cassettes disabled the Ark’s defences, and Jazz's warning came just as Soundwave started blocking comms. We held them off until… well.” He gestured to a grey mech huddled on the ground. Jazz immediately went to Bluestreak’s side. Blaster followed, crouching beside the saboteur as he checked the gunner over.
“He’s fine, physically. Mostly unhurt. But they got him by surprise, and threatened to deactivate him if Prowl didn’t give himself up.”
“Slag. And Prowl did, apparently. Do you know…”
“No. Don’t know who walked out and handed himself over to the ‘Cons. Could have been Prowl, could have been Hunter.”
“Double slag. Whose energon is that?”
“Astrotrain's. The moment Bluestreak was safe, Hunter or Prowl… uh… doorwinged the ‘Con in the face, broke free and dug his chevron into the mech’s throat. Ripped out something too, before the fragger got hold of his wings. Hunter or Prowl dropped immediately.”
“Triple slag. Good for the kid or Prowler though.”
Just then, Hound approached the pair, a worried look on his faceplates. “Jazz, I can’t find Mirage.”
Title: Hunter Green (Part 12)
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Same as before
Wheeljack hovered about the form lying on the worktable they’d set up in his lab, checking its circuitry and tubing. Building a new chassis was technically a simple affair. Ratchet had plenty of experience with repairing mechs, Grapple and Hoist had manufactured more parts since they’d woken on Earth for the Autobots than anyone else he knew, and he himself was pretty handy with welder and wrench, if he did say so himself.
“That’s because you’ve slagged yourself so many times, you would have eventually learnt your way around the basic Cybertronian internals by sheer dint of seeing your own so often.” The sarcastic comment from the mech standing in the doorway of his lab clued him into the fact that he had said the last out loud. Laughing softly, he greeted the mech, beckoning him in with a wave and a cheery flicker of his head fins.
“What can I do for you, Ratchet?”
“You can not blow yourself up this week, and not blow up Hunter’s new chassis, both now and when the youngling makes his first transfer into it.”
The inventor’s doorwings drooped sheepishly. “I haven’t and I won’t, promise.”
The medic smirked at him, and gave the new chassis a cursory scan. “I know. It looks fine. Shall we bring Hunter in for a test run?”
Wheeljack hesitated. “I don’t know, Perceptor hasn’t figured out how to split him from Prowl yet, and Prowl hasn’t woken up since Red Alert spoke to him for you to get a scan on him.”
“That is why Perceptor’s proposing we keep the two frames connected during the test, with Hunter controlling the new frame from Prowl’s CPU. This way the kid can get a feel for the new body. It is, after all, a bit of a size change.”
“I don’t understand why we don’t just build a grown mech’s frame for him.” It had been an often argued point between Wheeljack and Ratchet and the other researchers. The CMO cycled air in a sigh.
“We’ve been over this. We have no idea how a transfer of this sort will work, so the smaller frame will function as a scale model for us, making it easier to manage any problems that might arise. It will also be easier for Hunter to learn to control. He can always upgrade back to a full sized frame in the future.”
Wheeljack didn’t look too convinced, and Ratchet sighed again.
“And Hunter’s still a youngling, and that frame would remind the rest of the mechs in this base of that fact. So, test run?”
The inventor relented. “Alright. Bring the youngling in whenever.”
“Thank you.”
Hunter shifted, then stilled immediately when the mech across the room directed a sharp glance at him. Inwardly, the youngling sighed. It looked like he was going to be stuck here for a while. Or, until Ratchet got tired of waiting for Red Alert to release him and came down to the security room to drag him to Wheeljack’s lab. His doorwings flicked in amusement, and he quickly hid the tiny grin from the security director’s searching gaze.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
Hunter’s optics shuttered briefly in surprise. “Um… No sir.”
“My reports have started coming back with comments and observations I would not expect from a mech like Ironhide. You’ve been handling information that you are most certainly not cleared for.”
The green mech remained silent, and Red Alert frowned before continuing.
“I don’t have much fondness for you. That’s no secret. Your origins and your presence in the Ark still send my security programming into overdrive. Nothing personal, please understand, but annoying nonetheless.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
Doorwings dipped low, and it was the Lamborghini’s turn to keep silent. Then, reluctantly, he spoke again. “You aren’t to blame. Even I can admit that. Just… stop doing Prow-, Ironhide’s work.”
“Yes sir.”
“Good. Inferno, either come in or go away. Just quit skulking around outside.”
The fire truck slipped into the room, sending a supportive smile Hunter’s way before sighing and resting his hands on the back of Red Alert’s chair.
“Done with the youngling yet, Red? Ratchet’s about to breath fire.”
“That should be right up your alley.”
“Red.”
“Fine. Hunter can go.”
Inferno walked Hunter to Wheeljack’s lab. “Red wasn’t too rough on you, was he? We keep telling him to cut you some slack.”
“He’s just doing his job.”
The fire truck sighed at the youngling’s answer. “But you’ve been nothing but cooperative since coming here, and he’s seen that with his own optics. You’d think that’d merit some easing off. Frag, he keeps a closer eye on you than on the twins.”
“He just misses Prowl, as you’ve mentioned.” A wry expression accompanied Hunter’s words. “I think everyone in the Ark does.”
“Yeah. Sunstreaker was muttering something about that being the reason he painted you a different colour. Seems he overheard some of the mechs talking to you in the rec. room ‘bout Prowl. You didn’t need to put up with that, y’know.”
Hunter glanced down, his next words coming out softly. “I… didn’t mind. It’s good to see that the bots he cared so much about return the sentiment. I wish I could have met him in person.”
“Oh, you will. He’ll like you, I think.” The fire truck patted the other mech on the shoulder, and received a quick smile in return.
“Thanks, Inferno.”
The first trial run of Hunter’s new chassis was going well. Then again, all he’d done so far was get used to the new frame connected to Prowl’s, and work on controlling it from his current one.
“Well?” Wheeljack prompted.
“It feels odd. Everything looks… bigger through these optics.”
“That’s to be expected. Try making it sit up.”
“‘Kay.” As the youngling did as asked, he overbalanced and tipped the second body forward a bit too quickly. Ratchet caught it before it could fall and pull out the cable connecting it to the other frame.
“Careful! We don’t know what will happen to you if you lose the link to the other frame, and the spark.”
“Sorry.” Hunter winced as he righted the smaller chassis.
“Good thing you haven’t transferred over yet. At least you’ll be able to get used to moving your new body around first.” The inventor added, then looked concerned at Hunter’s puzzled expression.
“Something wrong?”
“Nothing, just feeling a little off kilter. This chassis doesn’t have all the sensory input of Prowl’s.”
“Wha- Oh! The doorwings. Right, we’ll figure out a way to add those. Well, we’re done for today.” He jotted down notes on a datapad as Hunter disconnected from the smaller frame.
“Come back tomorrow, same time. I won’t have the sensory panels ready for a while yet, but we can still work on motor control.”
More such sessions took place, and Hunter grew more used to moving his new frame around. The first time he made it walk (and a few times after that as well), a cautious Skyfire was standing in front of the new frame, arms reaching out to grab hold in case it fell.
Wheeljack and Ratchet had gently ribbed the shuttle later, once they were the only ones left in the lab, about acting like a creator watching his sparkling take its first steps. It didn’t help that to facilitate the transition, Prowl’s chassis had been returned to its black and white paint job, and Hunter’s future one was painted with the same green they now associated with the youngling.
The large mech had laughed in a slightly embarrassed manner, before quickly changing the subject. “This disconnection issue is troubling. Neither Hunter nor Prowl can stay tied to the other’s side forever once we separate them, and the risk of cutting Hunter off from the spark doesn’t make me feel any better.”
The other mechs nodded, Wheeljack voicing his agreement. “That is going to be a problem. Perhaps it would be better not to let Hunter transfer completely until we’ve figured out a solution.”
Skyfire sighed, one hand coming up to pinch his nose bridge in frustration. “On that note, have you managed to scan Prowl?”
It was Ratchet’s turn to sigh. “No, he hasn’t made an appearance since that last time.” With a short laugh the CMO added. “Even now the fragger’s avoiding his checkups. Figures.”
“Well, I can’t imagine why, your bedside manner is always so delightful.” At Ratchet’s glare, engineer and researcher lost it and broke out in snickers, ducking the medic’s half hearted swipe with ease.
It was inevitable, really. Things had been quiet as Megatron recovered from their last battle, and now that he was fully functional again, the Decepticon Commander was furious, and hankering for revenge. The attacks were vicious, and the Autobots were further hampered by the fact that they no longer had Prowl coordinating the fight.
While refuelling during a lull in the attempts, conversation turned to discussion of their next step.
“Frag. We have to hit the ‘Cons hard enough to make them quit.”
“That’s always your solution, ‘Hide.” Ratchet snarked tiredly, the sheer number of repairs he was having to make clearly wearing on him.
“Hasn’t failed me yet.”
“You, argh.” It was even more troubling that the medic didn’t bother to inflict hurt on Ironhide. Jazz spoke up then, diverting them from Ratchet’s disquieting behaviour.
“How are they even keeping up this pace? We’ve been giving as good as we get from them, I’m surprised half the seekers can actually stay in the air!”
“Fear’s a good motivator. Megatron’s in a temper, and that makes them pretty eager to obey orders and get back into action quick, even if it means making some creative repairs, or skipping repairs altogether.” The rust red mech replied, drawing an ill-tempered growl from their CMO before asking.
“How are Smokescreen and Trailbreaker coping with tactical duties?”
Jazz shrugged. “Doing their best, but they’re more diversion and defence. We’re not going to fall, but we’re definitely not hitting as hard as we could.”
“And Prowl’s still a no show. Can we get Hunter to assist?”
Both Ratchet and Jazz stared at Ironhide, incredulous. The medic spoke first. “You can’t be serious. He’s a youngling.”
Ironhide argued back. “He’s also got control all of Prowl’s programming. And he’s given input before.”
“A battle situation is markedly different from going through security reports and making suggestions!” Ratchet’s exclamation sounded at the same time as Jazz’s flat, “We’re not sending him out.”
Ironhide raised his hands in a placating manner. “I’m just saying. The kid did well in his first battle. Beat the ‘Cons and all.”
“We won that battle because the ‘Cons weren’t expecting their ‘drone’ to turn against them. We had the advantage of surprise, Megatron was offline and so were a number of the ‘Con’s top tier. Plus, everyone was too fired up about ‘Prowl’ to be denied a victory. Hunter, is completely unproven. Half the mechs rolling out will be questioning every decision he makes instead of focusing on the ‘Cons!”
“We don’t have to chuck him onto the field, I’m not decrepit in the processors yet, Jazz. Just have him run data through Prowl’s battle computer and give us anything he can. Why not use whatever help’s available?”
Their responses were cut off when the alarms sounded.
“Bring it up to Prime later, ‘Hide. For now, we got to get moving.”
“Don’t get slagged, you two.”
“Love you too, Ratch’.”
Elsewhere in the base, the following conversation was taking place at the same time.
“Hey. Hunter.”
“Yes, Sideswipe?”
“Don’t be pulling anything stupid now. You hear me?”
“I have no idea of what you mean.” Hunter’s tone definitely carried a hint of ‘You should be the one to talk’.
“I’m saying, don’t go trying some stunt to make us think you’re actually a ‘Con and showing your true colours now, so that we’ll have less reservations about deleting you and possibly getting Prowl back quicker. We’re in some slag now, but we’ve been in worse, and we’ll deal with it, with or without the tight aft. So don’t.”
“Oh. Darn. My clever plot has been found out. Whatever shall I do.” The dry response was met with a quick smirk, before the frontliner’s expression went neutral again.
“Yeah. Just so you know that.
“Nice to know you care.” Hunter was equally neutral.
“It’s for Blue’s sake.”
“Like I said. I should thank you for looking out for him. So…” The once more black and white mech leant closer, lips a scant inch from a suddenly tense Sideswipe’s audio.
“You really are too clever for me, Sideswipe.”
Prowl’s voice, perfectly mimicked, saying those words in a breathlessly admiring tone caused the red Lamborghini to nearly fall over. Hunter laughed out loud proper at the mech’s expression, as Sideswipe sputtered and rebooted his audios.
“You… Frag, if you’re trying to convince me you’re an evil ‘Con, you’re doing a slagging good job. But it won’t work, ‘cos I’m on to you!”
Hunter’s response was cut off when the alarms sounded.
“Don’t get slagged, you two.”
“Nice to know you care.”
“It’s for Blue’s sake.”
A parting exchange of smirks, and Sideswipe was gone.
Jazz ducked Skywarp’s weapons fire, noticing that the mech faltered in mid attack, then glanced at Starscream. The Air Commander grimaced, but nodded sharply, and Skywarp vanished. Starscream caught Jazz’s gaze, and set upon him, driving the Special Ops mech back, moving the both of them away from the battle.
“What the slag are you up to, Screamer? Where did you send ‘Warp?”
The seeker hissed lowly, swinging at the Porsche’s head and barely missing. “Use your processors, Autotrash. I didn’t send him anywhere. Megatron did.”
“Pit. This is a diversion, isn’t it.” Jazz went down, felled by a strike he hadn’t been able to avoid in time, caught up in the revelation, but managed to hit Starscream in the wing with a lucky shot.
“Clever mech.” Starscream’s tone was almost mocking. “Put up a good show. The fragger twigs on, he might figure out everything else. And mute it; I got too much to say without you interrupting.”
Both began to grapple on the ground, and the jet continued. “Megatron thinks Prowl broke free that day, and was the one to shoot him.”
The jet’s air intakes gasped as Jazz managed to slam him into the ground. “Watch it!”
“Look, you said a good show. Now get on with it.” The saboteur ignored the flier’s snarl, ducking the fist aimed at his faceplates.
“He suspects that the A.I. might be minimally sapient, and can be coaxed to join him if your tactician’s mind can be neutralised. Skywarp, Soundwave and Astrotrain are to retrieve ‘Prowl’ before you lot notice. Rescue or kill the brat, I don’t care, just keep him out of Megatron's hands.”
“Why Astrotrain?”
Starscream scowled, twisting and managing to reverse their positions. “The mech was the one responsible for Prowl’s ‘interrogation'.”
“Frag. And if I run back to base, I’ll give us both away.”
The seeker replied with a dark laugh. “Damned one way and slagged the other. Sucks, doesn’t it?”
“Guess you’d know better than anyone.” Jazz commed Optimus Prime, and fired an message back to the skeleton crew at the Ark to warn them.
“Well. Sorry ‘Screamer. And thanks. Again.” Jazz kicked the flier in the midsection, sending him tumbling backwards, before incapacitating the jet with his trademark light and sound attack, then racing for the thickest part of the battle, where he wouldn’t be able to think about the situation at the Ark.
Their return to base was made at top speed. Megatron had smirked while facing off with Prime, and sent the command to his troops to fall back, just as Blaster commed all of the Autobots with news of the breach, and the loss of Hunter.
They returned to find minimal damage to the base, but the condition of the crewmembers left guarding the base was worrying. Cliffjumper was offline, hurriedly being patched and held together by Grapple and Hoist, as other, less critical mechs assisted each other with field repairs. Energon stained the ground, and scraps of plating were littered about. Blaster limped forward, a sober look on his faceplates. Prime sighed.
“How bad?”
“Most of this was during the first attack. Cassettes disabled the Ark’s defences, and Jazz's warning came just as Soundwave started blocking comms. We held them off until… well.” He gestured to a grey mech huddled on the ground. Jazz immediately went to Bluestreak’s side. Blaster followed, crouching beside the saboteur as he checked the gunner over.
“He’s fine, physically. Mostly unhurt. But they got him by surprise, and threatened to deactivate him if Prowl didn’t give himself up.”
“Slag. And Prowl did, apparently. Do you know…”
“No. Don’t know who walked out and handed himself over to the ‘Cons. Could have been Prowl, could have been Hunter.”
“Double slag. Whose energon is that?”
“Astrotrain's. The moment Bluestreak was safe, Hunter or Prowl… uh… doorwinged the ‘Con in the face, broke free and dug his chevron into the mech’s throat. Ripped out something too, before the fragger got hold of his wings. Hunter or Prowl dropped immediately.”
“Triple slag. Good for the kid or Prowler though.”
Just then, Hound approached the pair, a worried look on his faceplates. “Jazz, I can’t find Mirage.”
