Transformers belong to Hasbro.
After a bad morning with Red Alert and an even worse afternoon with the Seekers, Sideswipe wonders if it's worth trying to fix his broken trine if they're doomed to have trine problems like the Seekers. (Mini-chapter fic)
/words/ = bond speak, since the document manager isn't letting me use a different notation :(
::Sideswipe, please report to Medbay for, uh, a follow up.::
Bumblebee's voice cut through my bored, wandering thoughts over my comlink. Usually I could tell how much trouble I'm in by the degree of waver in his voice; currently it said that I was only mildly screwed. "Follow up" was probably the closest thing he could come up to politely relay words from Ratchet that were likely along the lines of "tell Sideswipe to go to Medbay and wait to be flogged with a wrench until he offlines for what he did," but with more cursing. Well at least I won't be sitting here bored anymore, staring at a broken TV that died in the wake of Sunstreaker's and my last conversation.
I walked casually down to Medbay from my quarters. Maybe some unlucky Autobot would get injured and be in there right now, distracting Ratchet and walking slowly only increased those chances. Of course, it also increased Ratchet's anger if he wasn't being distracted, but what's life without a little risk?
As I entered Medbay my optics immediately spied a very putout looking Tracks cradling a leg. 'Aw, what's wrong, Tracksie-boy? Did your leg paint get scraped and now you're in too much pain from the idea of walking around with a scratch that you need the good ol' cranky pants doc to fix you up?' I silently ridiculed. Well, perhaps it was my lucky orn.
"Oh no, don't you even dare contemplate the idea that this is your lucky orn, you glitched son of a snow blower." Ratchet's voice cut in and I looked immediately found Ratchet standing to my right by a medical cabinet. He shook a welding arc at me for good measure. Ratchet's insult of the Earth week was calling mechs "snow blowers." I'm honestly not sure how that started. "I see that smirk and I can't wait to wipe it off."
"With a welding arc? Ratchet, surely you know that welding arcs melt things, not wipe things. Are you positive you're qualified to be the CMO?"
"Oh trust me, there's ways to wipe things away with a welding arc. How about a demonstration?" The angry CMO gave one of his demonic smiles reserved only for me. Well, I like to think it was only reserved for me.
"I dunno Ratchet. What if you make a mistake? Then I might be in here with you for a really, really long time," I smiled sweetly. "I wouldn't mind though. I don't mind spending lots of time with you. We could play together and have one of those 'tea parties' that human female children yap about – oooh! We could learnhow to make energon-tea! Think how much fun it would be – just you, me, and hot liquid for joors on end." I made sure I had the most angelic look on my face because I knew how much it annoyed the officers. I even twisted my ped like the human girls I've seen in TV just for good measure.
"You know what, that isn't such a bad idea. You could learn to be our new cook, Sideswipe. You could sit in the Rec Room for joors, taking orders from the rest of troops for energon drinks and goodies. I bet Cliffjumper, Brawn, and some of the other bots would absolutely lovethe prospect. I wouldn't mind helping you become our chef."
His comment almost ruined my angelic expression. He knew how much I despised those minibots and how much they hated me in return. Before I could respond, however, that inferno Tracks beat me to it.
"Will you two stop having one of your bitchfests and help me here! I'm in a lot of pain, Ratchet!"
"Oh, knock it off." Ratchet snapped at the moaning imbecile, his pitiful whining only too reminiscent of my brother's. "I turned off the pain-receptors in your leg, so you shouldn't be feeling any pain."
"But my hip hurts from holding my leg in this position. I don't want to keep holding it like this. Plus what if my gears get stuck and I have to limp around until they loosen up? Do you know how unappealing that looks?"
"Ugh! Hold on!" Ratchet turned back to look at me. "You and I are done here, Sideswipe."
"Really?" My optics widened in surprise. This is suspicious…
"Yes. Here's your datapad, a gift from me, made especially just for you. Enjoy."
Frag. If Ratchet had been planning to hand off his punishment for my latest prank with his medical supplies that meant he found something even better than he could deal. That meant a lot, considering the pride Ratchet took in our "follow ups."
I looked down at the datapad and immediately the first line leaped at me: "Report to Red Alert."
Double frag.
~~/~~
I didn't want to see Red, especially not now. Normally his behavior can only be described as an irrational and paranoid workaholic, but our latest squabble with the Decepticons left half of our security devices non-operational and just under a third of the operational ones were buried under a rocky landslide. Basically he was pretty much one well-placed prick away from a sheer total neurotic meltdown. Primus, aren't I lucky to be assigned as his assistant? If there was any time I would be considered a "bull in a china shop," as the human saying goes, this would be it. Being cognizant of mechs with heightened emotional requirements was not my forte – and no, that's not my imagination or even my words, but rather the exact words from about half of the officers. Damn Ratchet to the deepest Pit.
What really irked me about this punishment was how I could never purposely let myself push Red's buttons to any serious extent, and Ratchet knew it. Ratchet was capitalizing on both Red's state of mind and our strained relationship to punish me, probably hoping for it to sink home that he plays just as dirty as I do and that I should stop mess with the CMO's stuff. Well too damn bad, Ratchet - I'll show you how stupid of an idea it is to try and teach me a lesson with dirty fighting. I'm the one who's made it a career and a lifestyle.
Regardless, planning my retribution isn't going to help me now while I'm standing in Red's doorway, watching the frantic mech from behind. I knew that he knew I was there, but whatever was occupying his mind was clearly keeping him from interacting with the outside world. Maybe…
"Sideswipe! What are you standing in the doorway like that? Come in and let the door close behind you! What if a Decepticon was trying to sneak in or one of your hooligan friends is trying to see what I'm do so they can plot their next attack?" Red's nearly hysterical voice howled as if his very existence was in jeopardy. He didn't even pry his optics off his monitors to yell at me.
My orn is getting better by the breem. I reluctantly stepped into the Pit – I mean, Red's security room – and allowed the heavy, hydraulic door to close behind me. "So what's the assignment and the plan you've already formulated to make sure I help you in a non-suspicious manner?"
Red finally turned his head and glared daggers at me. "Don't play coy with me, Sideswipe. You have a habit of turning even the most mundane assignment I give you into an opportunity for mischief. That's something the Autobots can't afford, especially now!"
"Coy?" I piped up, interrupting what would probably be another rant about the inappropriate things that "my hooligan friends" and I do and the threat it causes to the lives of every Autobot. I'll be damned if I'm not getting in a few shots of my own – it's not my style to sit there through an officer's tirade without getting under the other mech's plating. "Why Red, I had no idea you thought of me that way. Normally I like my companions to be a little less crazy, but I like to try anything once."
"Get your mind out of the gutter, you – you disgusting bot!" Red stammered for a moment trying to thinking of a good insult. His idea of an insult almost made me laugh but I stayed silent as he continued on with his instructions. "I want you to find the security devices we lost in the land slide and clear the debris. Now take this datapad, tool kit, and radio and head to the first marked location on the datapad's map."
I grabbed the items while giving Red a deadpan look. "Seriously, a radio? We do haveworking comlinks."
"I want you to dig up the buried security devices and with an entire section of my security grid under mud and rock, but there's no telling if the Decepticons have already capitalized on the hole in our security! Soundwave could be there right now and he could jam your comlink. That radio is specially designed to function with this office even if there's a comlink jam and I want to use it as soon as you step outside in case an attack does occur."
Wow, Red's paranoia is far worse than I first guessed. I weighed my options of teasing him and asking if he need a hug, or just getting the damn thing over with so I can go back to staring at my broken TV. I chose the latter. "Okay, whatever you say since you're the boss for the moment. One digging exploration coming up."
~~/~~
My assignment with Red wasn't as short as I had originally hoped. Primus, I had no idea how many cameras and weird security devices Red actually had until now. It turns out that a third of our security devices equal roughly a hundred different units. Why does Prime or Prowl entertain this kind of crazy? Are they just going to let Red cover the volcano with his devices? Frag them all – I bet Prowl would let him just to screw with bots like me whenever something happens. After all, I'm part of the group that automatically gets thrown into a pool for them to pick out their next worker for such laborious jobs such as this one. Does anyone besides my fellow screwed comrades know how irritating it is to dig sensitive equipment out of hard earth?
"Sideswipe, what's your position?" Red's voice cracked over the radio.
"Knowing you, you have an extremely-precise GPS unit on this radio so you know exactly where the radio is, but you want to make sure I'm still near it." I radioed back before slipping in the mud, forcing me to dig my hands and peds into the muddy side to keep from losing my balance and going over the sheer wall.
I could practically hear Red Alert fume. 'Oh no, poor Red. He's upset in his comfortable office while I risk my health over his dirty cameras,' I mentally tossed back at the radio as snidely as I could.
"Sideswipe – "
"Don't interrupt me, Red. I didn't save 'over' and you have to save 'over' when you use radios." I could hear him angrily muttering to himself as I continued on but I didn't care. I knew that wouldn't last long, but at least it would let me finish climbing to the next ledge without having to juggle the radio in hand. Once I was on the rocky ridge where the eighty-sixth camera and automated stun gun were marked on his map, I radioed him back. "Over."
"I don't care about your 'over,' Sideswipe," Red responded tersely. "This is matter of life or death. We have the entire upper quadrant of a side of the base unprotected right now thanks to Rumble and Frenzy and their pile drivers. That could mean countless of opportunities for Soundwave and his cassettes to infiltrate or attack the base! As far as making that side relatively safe again goes, right now you are our only hope, Sideswipe. I won't have you messing around."
"Yes, Princess Leia," I said, a chuckle escaping me as the image of Princess Red Alert popped up. Actually, that chuckle is sounding suspiciously like a giggle… I immediately stopped.
/Wow, I can't believe you just giggled like that,/ Sunstreaker cut in over our bond. I cursed the connection that only a split-spark bond like ourselves or a mated pair could understand. Sure, there were times it was really handy, but mostly it was just really annoying. Sunstreaker was exceptionally good at cutting in over the bond if my guard wasn't almost perfectly in place. It's a little disturbing being a split-sparked twin when your other half has an exceptional talent for mind games. Literally.
/You can't hear through my audios,/ I retorted back.
/Yeah, but I can hear it when you replay the sound back in your mind. FYI, it was a giggle./
/How do you know what a giggle is, Sunshine? The closest time you've ever come to hearing a giggle is the moment before a group of sparklings or human children see you,/ I quipped as I started digging, per Red's datapads instructions.
/TV, duh. You watch enough of it when your stuck being the good, quiet solider that I can't fully escape your dumb shows. Anyway, I can't believe the level of detail Red wrote down on that datapad on how to dig. He has no faith in you,/ Sunstreaker mused.
Undoubtedly he was reading my thoughts as I read the instructions to myself. Red had gone to great lengths to make sure I know what I was digging, how to dig it out, the shape, the probable direction it was pointed before being trapped, and random other crap. I believe humans call that being anal-retentive.
/Stop using the squishies' dirty terms,/ Sunstreak said in disgust. Some mechs can't take cross-species jokes. Pit, some can't even same-species jokes.
/Will you shut up? I'm trying to work here with Red who's one good joke away from having a conniption, all the while I'm sitting on a high, short ledge over a volcano's steep side,/ I snapped. Turning my focus back to the task at hand, I radioed Red when my shovel hit the ground of the ledge instead of one of the bases of his units. "I don't think this is right. I'm not finding a camera or stun gun and thanks to your extremely detailed explanation on how, where, and what, I feel pretty comfortable in saying one isn't here. At least not anymore."
"That's not possible! I have reports of a successful diagnostic test for a unit in that location, as well as Wheeljacks's detailed drawings of the security device and the layout! Clearly you aren't look right, Sideswipe."
"Excuse me? You think I can't dig through rocks and find one of your beloved toys? I don't need a degree in 'crazy' like you to know how to work with my hands!"
"No, Sideswipe. I trust you know how to work with your hands – I've seen you in battle and your stunts around here. I'm sure you can since that's what you were hired on to do, but maybe during the time that you've been eager to play the role of a simple yet troublesome soldier, you've forgotten how to read one of my data maps!"
Indignant at the implication of being a 'simple soldier,' I snarled back hotly. "In all that time I've been a soldier, I've learned how to read more than just your data maps. There's more to the world than your security room, you paranoid glitch! Maybe if you developed the struts and sanity to leave your security room and brave the outside world, you'd know that. Instead, you'd just happily sit there, slowly dying alone with only your security devices to keep you company!"
The sound emitted from Red told me that I had gone too far. Immediately some of my anger was replaced by guilt. I moaned silently to myself, frustrated with the situation. Nothing I ever do seems to work with my strained trine mate. By and large I was not a self-loathing mech, but I loathed being in a trine with someone who was not like me, and I loaned not having the skills to at least figure out mechs different than me. It was our difference that pretty much only made us a trine on a datapad.
Still, as tired as I was with dealing with someone who'd become so foreign to me, I was even more tired of not dealing with the problem. Swallowing my pride, I thought about apologizing to Red Alert, but I couldn't think of a way. Before we crashed on Earth, I knew that dying alone was one of Red Alert's fears, and like he had made fun of my life since the war ensnared me in its never relenting grasp, I had mocked his. The only difference was that I went for a weak spot where he at least hadn't. I couldn't help it – war changes a mech and now it was almost pure instinct to strike where my opponents were weak, be it physically or mentally. Vorns of being subjected to Decepticons' wrath had made it a rather ingrained reaction.
A few breems passed silently as I absentmindedly twirled my handheld shovel into the ledge. I honestly have no clue how to undo the damage I just did. Red's paranoia probably wouldn't allow him to accept my apology (even if I know how to legitimately apologize) because it would tell him I was luring him into a false sense of security. I searched my memories about the times someone said something stupid to Red and for ways they got out of it. Unexpectedly, Sunstreaker broke the silence as my search came up empty. Well, he broke the silence for me anyways.
Why don't you offer to let him teach you that dumb board game he loves after you're done? Sunstreaker suggested. Like me, he felt the strain that'd developed between Red and us over time. Typically the strain between us and the officers didn't concern either Sunstreaker or me, but Red was an exception thanks to our past. Red's exception impacted even the aloof Sunstreaker, although he'd probably break my jaw to keep me from ever saying it aloud. It didn't matter anyways that Sunstreaker could feel the strain since he would never do anything about it anyways. Sustreaker's pride and Red's suspicions made things all around difficult and I was usually left the middle mech. Taking a moment to prepare myself for what I was sure would be a conversation that would test my own pride, I finally radioed Red Alert back.
"Uh, say, Red… you still like that board game you used to play back in Iacon?" I asked carefully.
"Yeah, what's it to you?" came the defensive reply.
"I haven't seen you play it a long time."
"Yeah, well my cameras don't know how to play," Red replied hauntingly. Maybe I've been around the humans during their numerous emotional moments a few too many times, or maybe I need a break from TV, but I swear I heard a sniffle. It's absurd, I know, since we don't sniffle, but I heard something that resembled the humans' noise.
"Something your cameras and I have in common, along with having the same IQ," I joked in a lame attempt to ease the tension, but almost immediately I detected a failed attempt to stifle a meager laugh over the radio. Getting Red to laugh was the almost as rare of getting a giggle out of Prowl (Jazz claims he did that once). Having edged my way in a little, I pushed a little more. "Maybe you could teach me?"
A few silent moments passed before the radio crackled with Red's reply. "I guess but only after you're completely done. I can't really pass on an opportunity to teach you a lesson in discipline through one of the only two forms of methods that you actually pay attention."
"Alright! Let's see how long it takes to pull lots of tiny secret equipment clear of a mud slide!" I exclaimed cheerfully, faking as much enthusiasm as I could for Red's sake. Damn him for being barely important enough to me.
/Yeah, right – 'barely important.' I bet he's so 'barely important' that you would've sniffled like Spike if he hadn't accepted,/ Sunstreaker's smug comment cut into my thoughts.
/Yeah, like you sniffled when Bluestreak avoided you a couple of nights ago I shot back, knowing the unusual circumstances that had occurred and the discomfort it had caused him. But thanks for helping me out here. Tell you what: you scratched my back, so I'll scratch yours the next time you have a smart comment about it./ I sent him an image over our link of his back with paint scratched off of it, knowing how much the image alone would haunt him.
I shut the connection as quickly as I could, knowing that his rant falling on deaf audios would make Sunstreaker that much angrier. I don't know why Ratchet thinks I have a death wish.
Anyway, it seems that I'm gonna spend the rest of my orn with Red at this rate. 'Okay, think, Sideswipe,' I said to myself. 'How can an automated gun and a camera on a pivot that's about the size of my lower arm disappear under a couple of feet of rocks? Oh, duh!' A gun on a double-pivot stand would be more likely to break off than to disappear under a few rocks when the rocks slammed into it at a relatively high velocity. Since this was the only gun located in this area, and camera-only devices had single pivot joints, it would explain why this would be the first to break in my exploration.
I looked around before remembering how much rock and mud surrounded me. 'Primus-fragging slag!' I cursed my ill luck. I looked down at the dinky little shovel twirling in my hand and then back at the large pile of rocks sitting just below the ledge. I know Red wanted me to use this shovel because it would decrease the chances of me accidentally breaking the equipment while I dug it out, but I'm pretty sure it's anunnecessary concern in a pile this large. I mean, the odds are pretty good the pivot joint broke when the first set of rocks hit it so the gun should be at least near the bottom of the pile. 'Right?' I asked myself once more, unsure if I could trust my luck at the moment.
'I don't know,' I replied back. 'I could ask Prowl. What do you think would happen if I asked him what are the odds are about the gun being broken pretty early into the rock slide?'
I tossed the scenario around in my head a few times before deciding on the most probable outcome. 'He knows what I'm doing, but since I'm asking him instead of Red, he might think I'm trying to sneak it out from under Red's nose. Like perhaps there's a new plan in the works to do something stupid in the next battle and it would drive him nuts trying to figure it out.' I grinned mischievously as I pictured Prowl's angry doorwing twitch.
'Yeah, but chances are that Prowl just ask Red Alert while I'm up here and that will somehow get me into more trouble,' I realized after thinking about it some more.
'So I guess it's settled then – asking Prowl is a no-go but the odds are probably in my favor anyway so I can start with my pile drivers and then dig with the stupid shovel. At least I can get rid of half of the pile before having to do this the slow way.' I stopped talking to myself and climbed in position, feeling more confident since I agreed with myself. After growing up with Sunstreaker and regularly communicating mentally over our split-spark bond, I find it hard to not talk to myself. Being permanently linked to Sunstreaker has seriously messed me up.
"Sideswipe! What are you doing?" Red cried over the radio – probably as soon as the damn GPS chip spit out info that the radio was moving – as I awkwardly climbed around the ledge and onto the pile. I wondered offhand about what could be supporting the rocks on this steep side as I climbed.
"I think the gun was knocked off its stand and it's buried in this pile, somewhere at the bottom. I'm gonna knock out the top half and then dig through the bottom half with your delicate shovel for your delicate gun and camera." I did my best to keep the snide tone out of my voice. I'm really not sure I succeeded since the mech on the other end is programmed to pick up on the tiniest details.
Regardless, I activated my pile drivers and balanced carefully as I set the pile drivers on their lowest power setting. Very carefully I rested them on the same pile I was standing on. 'Oh yeah, Ratchet. Just when you thought I couldn't do anything more stupid than last month's activities, I do this,' I mentally jeered at the image of Ratchet in my head. I activated my pile drivers, being mindful of keeping my balance. Did I mention that I hate tiny sheer edges?
"No! Sideswipe, don't do that!" The radio crackled, barely audible over my pile drivers. What's his problem?
CRACK!
Uh oh. Immediately I stopped my pile drivers and transformed my arms back. I could hear Red practically hyperventilating, which meant he heard the noise too. 'Please don't let me screw myself, please don't let me screw myself,' I chanted over and over again as I dug carefully towards the sound of that noise. I could feel Sunstreaker trying to pry past my barrier. My anxiety was probably leaking over the bond.
After the seemingly-long breem I finally found the source of that sound. It was a mutilated piece of the stand. It looked like this was the piece connecting the stand and the arm segment with the gun and camera, although it was hard to tell from the object sitting in my hand. I did know it was not the gun or camera at least. That much was obvious.
"It's okay!" I quickly radioed in. "It wasn't the unit. It was middle piece between the two joints."
"Do you have any idea how lucky you are?" Red shrieked. "I was trying to tell you that Hoist suspected most of the security devices were fine in the first wave of rocks because of the materials he used! That means the gun is most likely not at the bottom but in the middle of the pile."
"Oh, oops. I'll use your shovel for the rest of this," I promised.
"No you won't!" Red ordered. "Clearly I can't trust you to not blindly destroy valuable equipment and leave a huge opening for the Decepticons to waltz right through! I need someone I can trust to follow orders and use their CPU for more than just padding for someone's fist. Get out of there and return the equipment while I look for someone who knows the meaning of the word 'competence.'"
The feedback noise from the radio suddenly died, a sign that Red had turned off his radio. That was a bad sign since his paranoia would tell him to leave it on to make sure that I don't get ambushed as I returned.
Quietly I climbed down the rest of the volcano and handed the equipment off to Hound so he could take it to Red's office. I didn't feel like going in and be subjected to his tirade of rants and paranoid ramblings. I could've gone to the Rec room since it was break time for a lot of my friends but I wasn't feeling particularly social or up to dealing with any more officers. At the moment I was too mad to play nice.