A Way With Words
A/N: First off, I want to apologize to those waiting for an update on TSAS. I fell into a slump of "OMG I hate this story it's such a piece of crap" and let it sit and stew nicely inside my head. I don't know when I'll get a chance to update it (hopefully soon), but I want to make sure it's something worth pulling it out of the gutter it so miserably sank into. I promise, I won't let it die unfinished.
This originally was meant to be a one-shot, but I do have a few more small stories about some of the 'bots that I would like to try and add soon. They're all begging for attention, I tell you!
And to set the foundations for this series, I do make references to some events that happened in the prequel ROTF comics. As much as I liked the movie, I sincerely loved the way the comic writers fleshed out some of the stories/characters in the few pages they were limited to. Honestly, some of the comic stuff is better than the ah...questionable movie dialouge. But I liked the movie, don't misunderstand me.
Disclaimer: Don't own TF. Hasbro gets to roll in that mountain of cash, lucky dogs.
"Show Some Respect"
"I still don't get it."
Major Will Lennox paused at the statement, fork full of noodles and what was assumed meat halfway to his mouth. It was lunchtime, and he and Epps were taking a well-deserved break to chow down and enjoy the relative quiet of a normally full mess hall.
"Get what? That this stuff passes for food?" Lennox eyed the sloppy mess before shoving the conglomeration into his mouth and chewing the overcooked pasta with a slight grimace. He had to give the chefs credit; catering to at least five different countries worth of tastes was no simple task. Even so, the distinct memory of his wife's mouth-watering, homemade spaghetti made the cook's meals taste like leftovers.
"No. Them." Epps pointed his empty spoon at the single file line of cars driving by. Two compact cars (Epps and Lennox had secretly dubbed them "toasters-on-wheels") sped through the large concrete hangar, turning doughnuts and playfully tagging one another with their bumpers before shooting off again. If anything, the green and orange vehicles looked like they were being driven by two prepubescent teens on their first joyride. A neon yellow Hummer and a black Topkick two sizes down from being a monster truck followed the first two, driving at a less exuberant speed and taking care to stop when humans walked by.
In any other circumstance, the odd assemblage of vehicles driving through a military hangar would evoke stares, slack jaws and the telltale click of a hastily snapped cell phone camera. The hand picked men and women stationed at the secret base of Diego Garcia were accustomed to their fellow alien allies to the point that only a few of the more curious glanced up at the passing procession. Detaching from the rest of the group, Ironhide steered himself until he was a good distance closer to Epps and Lennox. He did not speak but sat and idled with a rumbling patience.
"And don't complain about the food," Epps added turning back to face him, utensil pointed at his comrade's half-eaten plate. "I'd rather eat this stuff in the middle of a jungle than the damn MREs. Those things never sit well with me."
A few mouthfuls passed in silence before Lennox ventured to ask, "What's bugging you? Did 'Hide mistake you for a target again?" Lennox chuckled as he gulped down a spoonful of peas. Epps rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah. You go ahead and laugh it up, Major. Next time I'll let you be the one to tell Trigger Finger over there he can't shoot anythin' without approval." The sergeant looked over his shoulder at Ironhide, undoubtedly checking to see if the enormous black truck was listening in on their conversation. The Topkick made no movement to suggest he was interested, but the two knew from experience that the weapons specialist was absorbing every word.
"Sure, I'll swap you for Galloway." Lennox had never met the man in person, but if the rumors were anything to go by, he wanted to keep the oceans distance between him and the NSA.
"Just forget I said anything." Epps ended the conversation, but Lennox could tell from his tone that whatever was bothering him was far from being dropped anytime soon. They spent the rest of the meal in relative good humor, the two soldiers conversing on topics ranging from the latest developments in Decepticon activity to the more personal matters: missing birthdays and the rare phone call home. Once finished, the men headed for the truck. Epps was muttering to himself the entire way but Lennox caught a few fragments of the whispered words.
"It's like they're mocking us, you know? Or maybe it's some type of alien joke that I don't get..." Lennox let the sergeant ramble on while he climbed into the enormous cab. Ironhide took off with an impatient rev of his engines once they were both inside. When the main hanger was a shrinking block in the distance, Epps cooled down enough to greet their current chauffeur.
"So 'Hide, we doing anything fun today?"
"Battle training," The disguised robot's deep voice thrummed against the interior with pleasure as he followed a worn path to their destination.
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Despite the recent advancements and additions on Diego Garcia, there were still open expanses of the island that remained vastly untouched by the ongoing industrialization. Areas not claimed for future facilities were sectioned off into training fields, one for each species currently sharing the secluded island. Ironhide stopped just at the border of the larger one and allowed them to step out before switching into what he called his "natural form". Lennox could not help but watch as the metal shifted fluidly in place to reveal the bulky form of the Autobot hiding within.
"I don't care what they say; I'm never going to get used to seeing that." Epps spoke in a whisper, his face mirroring that of the major.
"Dude, wha' took ya so long?" The momentary trance holding the two men in place shattered like glass as the whining voice of Skids shouted from where he and his other half waited impatiently. "We could've whooped so much aft by now instead o' wastin' it waitin' fo yo' slaggers."
"Oh hell no." The master tech sergeant voiced his displeasure quite clearly, turning to face Lennox with an angry glare. "Don't tell me I volunteered to put up with those two knuckle heads?" For the most part, Epps got along well with the Autobots better than most of the other men in their division. On more than one occasion, Lennox spotted his closest friend spending what free time they had to themselves chatting with the black-armored Autobot with surprising enthusiasm. The exception to his overall friendly nature stopped dead short of the twins, two of the newer and less experienced arrivals when it came to Earth etiquette.
"I'm ready to bus' some afts. C'mon, let get it started." The orange twin Mudflap added his own jeering taunts to his brother's loud voice. And more annoying, Lennox remembered.
"Screw this man, you can't pay me to sit and watch these two duke it out with each other." Epps' voice carried across the field to the two smaller bots.
"Oo, look Mudflap. Chocolate over there's sayin' somethin'," Skids slapped his brother across the shoulder, pointing at Epps. "Hey Coco! Sit back an' watch the big boys do it righ'!"
"Keep talkin' tin can," he growled back. Lennox grabbed him by his arm and stopped him from taking his anger out the two who were laughing in a jarring, mechanical melody at them.
"C'mon man, you know the drill: all new recruits need to be evaluated for combat skills and effectiveness. Human or alien. From what we've seen of the Decepticons, we're going to need all the help we can."
"I know that, but it still doesn't tell me why ya thought it would be funny to drag me along with you."
"I never said they would be fighting each other," Will finished with a knowing grin. Whether unintentionally or not, Ironhide choose this moment to halt all ongoing conversations with a hearty, ground-shaking stomp of his foot.
"Alright you two," he boomed at the shorter mechs, his left cannon twitching in agitation as he made his way to mid-field. "Stop acting like younglings and pay attention." Lennox was mildly surprised when their chatter dissolved at the threat. The only other Autobot the duo seemed to listen to with mutual respect was Optimus Prime. Then again, they may have shut up out of fear to keep the older and more battle hardened Ironhide from shooting them.
"Today's lesson is simple: work together to bring down your opponent any way you can." Ironhide stepped to one side, revealing the ultra sleek Corvette that was Sideswipe at the opposite end of the deeply gouged and burnt earth. It was a testament to the silver Autobot's stealth how much of a surprise his sudden appearance was to Lennox and Epps, earning a low whistle of respect from the former.
"Now that's impressive." The twins noticed the attention was not on them any more and proceeded to welcome their opponent with the usual greeting.
"Hey yo pretty bot, hope ya liked tha' armor, cuz you gonna need a whole new ride once we're done with you!"
"Get ready to meet your creator!"
"I take that back." Epps' voice had switched to a decidedly happier tone, full-faced smirk all but shouting his sudden enthusiasm. "I think I'm going to enjoy this. A lot."
"I did not believe that I would meet a human who enjoyed fighting as much as Ironhide." The firm voice of the Autobot medic reached their ears as he moved to stand beside them, having just arrived following Sideswipe.
"Good timing, Ratchet. Those two are going to need a cycle's worth of repairs once it's all over." Ironhide strolled back to join their growing group, the barest hint of a mechanical chuckle emerging from his chest.
"You didn't forget to tell Sideswipe to hold back, did you?" Ratchet did not sound angry, but a hiss of air escaped from one of his many vents. If Lennox was learning to interpret Autobot behavior correctly, then it sounded more along the lines of a 'why me?' sigh.
Ironhide wisely chose not to reply.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Two minutes into the robot melee and Lennox knew the twins were in over their heads.
The fight started with a bang (from Mudflap's right gun) before all hell broke loose. Though Lennox applauded them for some nicely executed maneuvers, such as a mid-air twisting shot that clipped Sideswipe's right shoulder, it was apparent that they were about as effective against the silver Autobot as a pair of sticks. Save for the occasional punch one of the two landed on warrior's armor, they were doing nothing more but chasing and yelling what sounded like curses in their frustration. There was no denying the one simple fact: Sideswipe was built for combat and they, clearly, were not.
"Are ya gonna give up yet?" shouted a thoroughly beat up Skids. Pieces of his green metal skin lay scattered along the field, forgotten in his furious attempts to bring down the skating Corvette. "Or are we gonna do this the hard way?"
"My friend, you are in no position to threaten me," Sideswipe stated with a flat tone, skating in quick circles around the flustered mech. The words had barely left his mouth before Skids found himself flat on his back, knocked to the ground by a single slash of Sideswipe's impressive blades. A heartbeat later the same blade was hovering inches above what Lennox knew to be the weak spot on every Transformer: the Spark.
"I'm comin, 'Kids!" Mudflap announced as he sailed through the air, aiming to take the warrior by surprise and land on his back. Lennox shook his head in disappointment. Screaming out your attack before you acted was the best way to get you and your team killed.
At the last second, Sideswipe easily rolled out of the way of the airborne twin. He and Epps covered their ears as the resulting crash of robot smashing into robot screeched inside their heads. The momentum from Mudflap's jump sent the pair rolling and bumping into each other until they stopped moving some fifty yards away.
"What cho' do tha fo, stupid?"
"I was savin' yo sorry aft, you glitch-head!"
"I didn't need no savin'. I had him righ where I wanted him. Then you come in there and messed it all up."
"You wouldn't make it two feet without my help, oil-sucker!" This earned Mudflap a punch in the chest, to which he retaliated with a swift kick on the knee back to Skids. The two proceeded to pummel each other until they were nothing but a mass of shouting, crunching metal.
"Well...that went well." Lennox ran a hand through his short hair, glancing up at Ironhide with a sarcastic grin. "They need a little work, huh?"
"That's an understatement, Major," Ironhide answered with an unhappy grunt. "Sideswipe wasn't even trying."
"I enjoyed it," Epps commented with a smile. Lennox eyed his comrade with a "Don'tpisshimofforhe'llsquishyou" look without effect. "Someone needed to smack some sense into those two. War isn't all fun and games."
"You are right, Sergeant. These two have not seen the battles I have and need to know the harshness that war brings." Turning around, they realized that Ironhide had changed back into his truck mode, doors held open for them.
"Nah, you go on ahead, Big Guy," Epps waved a friendly good-bye to the truck. "I need to have a word with those two." He turned and headed towards Ratchet, who was busy starting the repair work on Skids. Lennox hesitated before following him, curious as to why his comrade would pass up a chance to hitch a ride from the Autobot.
"Hey, punch dummies!" Lennox groaned. Now he would have to make sure Epps didn't do anything stupid that would end up in a visit to the NEST medical staff. "Seeing as you've been through the ringer and then some, I got a question for you two." He paused, staring down the three pairs of alien eyes that watched him back.
"Why do you talk that way?"
Somewhat puzzled, Skids tilted his head to one side, regarding the man with curious eyes.
"Wha chu' mean, why we talk dis way? We're speakin' your words, Coco."
"Yeah, you wouldn't understand us if we talked like this." Mudflap's voice disappeared, only to be replaced by a flurry of whines, digital clicks and tones that no human could ever hope to understand or replicate. "Tha's Cybertronian, the way I like ta talk. But fo' you, Coco, we decide ta play nice and speaka da Inglish plain and simple like."
"No, what I mean is why don't you talk like the others? You know, standard American English. The correct way. Like he does," Epps pointed at Ratchet, who was now concentrating on reattaching a leg brace. "Something that anyone can relate to."
"Can't ya hear the words comin' outta my vocal processor?"
"Yes, I can, but you're not saying it right. It offends people and they don't appreciate it when how they talk is used in a way that disrespects them." Epps was now fully into the argument, and Lennox had a nagging hunch that this was why he had been so irritable lately. Or maybe it was the fact that he probably didn't like his new nickname the twins had so generously christened him.
"Now hold on a sec," Mudflap moved to within inches of faces, annoyance clear as crystal in his voice. "You dinnit have a problem 'fore with him. He spoke no different than us and you didn't care nothin' 'bout it." His face, smashed as it was, took on a serious look that surprised both of them.
"Who are you talking about?" Lennox finally decided it was safe to enter the conversation. "I haven't heard anyone speak the way you two do." Having finished his repairs on Skids, the yellow medic reached out for the other injured half.
"I believe," Ratchet interrupted, forcing Mudflap to a sitting position none too delicately, "that they are referring to Jazz."
Somewhere in Lennox's mind, the mention of the deceased Autobot triggered a memory shoved far back into his thoughts. Mission City. One of the worst battles (so far) he had ever fought in his life. Explosions left and right, enemy fire raining in from all directions: literally, hell on Earth. During this apocalyptic showdown, he tried desperately to keep himself and his men alive through continual reassurance of success and steady streams of "Shoot that thing! Hit it! Bring it down! RUN!". Weeks later, he was still trying to figure out how he and his men not only survived but also managed to destroy some of the nastiest aliens the universe kindly conceded to send their way.
Unlike his group of soldiers, the robotic allies they had gained did not fare well. One legless yellow robot, affectionately called Bumblebee by a teenager named Samuel Witwicky, sat tethered to a tow truck. What was even worse, in his eyes, was what Ironhide held somberly in his large hands. The one Autobot who died lay in two large pieces, an example of Megatron's god-like power. Here on their home, not his, the silver one deigned Jazz had risked it all to save them. It was hard figuring out how to show enough gratitude for someone who gave up their own life to protect their own, but the Autobots seemed grateful for the burial at sea both Lennox and Epps made sure to attend.
"The lieutenant was the best at cultural assimilation," Ratchet bluntly explained, dragging Lennox out of his memory. "While the majority of us choose a local dialect and audio speech tone to make the first encounter with your species as stress free as possible, Jazz based his vocal output on his own eclectic standards." He stepped back, helping the orange twin up. "Those welds should hold but don't put too much tension on them for a few earth cycles." Mudflap stretched his joints experimentally.
"Damn righ' he was good," Skids added with emphasis. "No bot better, 'cept for Prime."
"He deserves respect, an' we make sure he gets it." For a split second their faces were set with an unusual determined look. Lennox blinked and the orange twin was back to grinning mischievously at his green counterpart. "Race ya back, slowpoke!"
"Las' one there is a Minibot!" The twins took off, jumping and transforming mid-air before bouncing back to the ground as vehicles.
"They do have their redeeming traits, Major," Sideswipe informed them as rolled to a stop, making Lennox nearly jump out of his boots. How the hell did two tons of robot silently sneak up behind them?
"Such as...?"
"Although their actions may not be apparent to you, they hold a deep level of respect for Jazz," he answered, his tone growing more serious than Lennox thought possible.
"Some time ago, during the more violent stage of Decepticon attacks, an unusual beacon was intercepted by one of our scouts. Prime assembled a search team, led by Jazz, to investigate." He paused in his speech, taking a moment to glance upward at the sky. "They walked right into a trap. At the time, we did not realize the beacon was actually a Decepticon device designed to prevent any type of communication from leaving a specified radius. When they did not return, Prime was reluctant to send out any other teams for fear of losing even more Autobots. Ironhide managed to convince him to send out a search party in hopes of finding some left online, thought the chances against that theory were high. Prime led the mission, I believe, out of regret for falling for such a simple trick."
"When we arrived, our assumptions proved correct. Every Autobot sent on the original mission was found offline...except for Jazz. One of our trackers, Hound, picked up a intricately encrypted distress message that led us to the lieutenant. What surprised us even further was his discovery of Skids and Mudflap, two identical Cybertronians barely out of a self-forced stasis lock. He explained to us that he picked up the twin's abnormal Spark signature and followed it to a deep pit in the ground, where the two had been hiding ever since their group was executed by the same underhanded Decepticons. He avoided the massacre without detection but was hesitant about sending out any type of message: Skids and Mudflap were too low on energy to defend themselves and would have been nothing more than a liability. After we returned and the twins were healed, they began to follow and mimic Jazz with alarming fierceness."
"So, let me get this straight," Epps spoke up. "Those two talk the way they do because they admired Jazz?"
"In a way, yes. From what I have learned about humans and can relate it to you in your terms, they act and speak that particular way not only out of admiration but also of reverence. They are so similar to Jazz in their speech patterns that it reminds our very Sparks why we continue to fight the Decepticons. If for nothing else, we fight to make the sacrifices of past Autobots worth giving and keeping our own hopes for a peaceful future alive." Sideswipe transformed without a word and sped off before Lennox could request a ride back.
"Not as bad as they seem, hmm?" He gave Epps a hearty nudge to the shoulder as they began the long walk to the base. He had to admit, those two were full of surprises.
"Yeah, they earn a few brownie points for now," he answered, ineffectively hiding the newfound respect he gave Skids and Mudflap "but they need a serious overhaul in basic combat techniques if I'm going to need them for backup. I don't want them shooting me in the ass and goin' 'Whoops, my bad bro'."
"Whatever you say....Coco." Lennox started running as soon as he let the last word "accidentally" slip out, making a beeline for the base. Even with his feet pounding a fast-paced tempo against the ground, he could still hear the thunderous stomping of a ticked off Epps chasing after him with fury akin to a hurricane.
A/N.2: So yeah, my own little version of how I find the ROTF twins not so annoying. *shrugs* And look, Sideswipe actually gets a few paragraphs of lines, not a few measly sentences and grunts!
Reviews are greatly appreciated. XD