Prank gone wrong 1
One fine day Sideswipe went too far with his seemingly harmless prank. That practically all you need to know.
|•| Change of location.
"Normal talk"
/Bond talk/
::Comlink::
Chapter one
|•|Day One: Science lab 0530
"'Jack? Why aren't you in recharge? Slag it's 5.30 in the goddam morning!"
The inventor spun around, his indicators blinking an embarrassed pink light as he turned optic to optic with the friendly residence chief medical officer. Aka Medic of doom. Ratchet stood in the entrance of the lab, optics narrowing.
"I don't want to be hauling your overworked body into my Medbay and strapping you down to the berth! Now get!"
He indicated to the door as Wheeljack ex-vented. Well his new invention could wait. That night he had found out how to manufacture energon that would make onebot's age and processor increase in capacity. He named it Cybergise. Cybertronions plus Energise. Pretty crappy. But eh he didn't have time to brainstorm for ideas of what he would name it. Of course he wasn't going to use it on anybot on the Ark. Nope too risky. He was going to try it on the Dinobots. Yup his inventions needed the extra processor space. But as the words on his datapad started moving he realised that it wasn't going to work if he pushed himself.
Yeah for once he wouldn't argue with Ratchet.
"Cming... Sorry Ratch... I didn't see the time... Got too takenaway..." He staggered to the exit and realised how tired he actually was. His exhausted peds bucked as he fell facefirst in Ratchet's open arms. The CMO visible soften.
"Stupid little pit-spawn... I'll cover up for your shifts today. Go to your quarter and take the day off. No more late projects here me?"
But the inventor was already in recharge.
|•| Outside of Lab 0600
Prowl walked pass the north wing of the Ark. In his arms were datapads filled with orders for some science slag that Wheeljack ordered. Hopefully this time the inventor's inventions would actually work and not cause destruction to the wrong faction. The SIC vented as he pushed open the lab doors. He half expected Wheeljack to still be working on something but was glad where he saw an empty lab. As he placed the 'pad down on an obvious place on the impossibly messy desk he realised that there were something standing out from all the scattered tools and book files. There were two cubes of energon on his desk. And they were fresh too.
Energon was already close to depletion in the Ark. One fine day they would end up rationing their energon shares. Unlike in Cybertron when exposed to earth's elements and conditions energon would oxidised and turn bad. In other words it would lose the nutrient needed for a bot in that single cube. Sighing, Prowl picked the two cubes and scanned it.
They were untouched. Well. So he did what other mechs would do. He turned and poured it back into the main energon dispenser in the lab, second one from the right, making a mental note to talk to Optimus about wasting energon. Besides, Optimus was the one that gave out the rules that all untouched energon must be poured back into the nearest dispenser so as to reduce the amount of wastages right?
|•| Outside of Lab 0800
"The cost is clear!"
Two similar set of helms poked out from corner. The red one combed the area and gave his brother the 'thumbs up' sign. Every first day of a fortnight they would come and visit their engineer. They had an agreement. Wheeljack would had over two cubes of high-grade in return for bailing him out from Prowl and hiding his contraband chemicals away from the SIC.
It was a good deal.
"Wheeljack?" Sideswipe hissed peeping into the lab disappointed as he found it empty.
::Sides to Jazz. Slag 'Jack's not in!::
::Ah now it's time fa Plan B! Get your afts in there and get the energon yourselves. O'l 'Jack hid da high grade 'side da regula' grade. Ya see it? Second one from da right. Sorry ah'm in da middle of ma shift. Ah'm make sure Prowler doesn't catch ya. GO!::
::Copy that!::
Somehow they got Jazz on their sides. Many because he also wanted to get his servos on high-grade. In the entire Ark there were only three places to obtain the goods. Prime's office, the Medbay and the labs. However desperate they were there was no way they would barge into Prime's place. No bot wanted to get fragged in the Hatchet's domain so the Lab it was. And the prank of the week was so get the two most tightaft bots in the entire Ark to get intoxicated.
Sunstreaker watched the door as Sideswipe grabbed two empty cubes and filled it with the second dispenser from the right. Rich, high-grade tickled his olfactory sensors as he hastily stuffed the two precious cubes into his subspace.
Now it was time to beat it before anybot came.
|•| Medbay 0930
Ratchet hissed as his tanks grumbled for the third time. It was 8 in the morning. Time for his ration them. He grabbed the datapads in his servo, the reports for Prowl, as he headed to the rec-room.
::Ratchet to Prowl. Come in::
::Yes Ratchet?::
::I've the reports you wanted. Meet me in the rec-room in 15 minutes for morning energon?::
The medic smirked inwardly. He needed the stiff SIC to get out of his homely office to actually socialise. Too much work would make a bot an unhappy one. But not for Prowl. He would willing pull triple shift and work over-time anytime.
::Fine... Just this once. I just passed the lab again. Where's Wheeljack? I thought he was eager to collect the materials that he ordered? I just need him to sign and tick off. I supposed that he would be up by now?::
::That fragger worked till 5 in the damn morning on some energon thing-Primus knows what... He'll be up later when I see fit he should.::
::You're the medic.::
|•| Somewhere between Medbay and Rec-room.
"Woah! Both of them are in the rec-room now! Jazz! Jazz? Do you copy?::
::Slag yeah! Kay now do as ah say...::
|•| Rec-room 0945
"Hey Ratch! Hey Prowler!"
Medic and tactician turned to see Jazz and Sideswipe. Prowl narrowed his optics and Ratchet's engine rumbled.
"Yeah? What do you slaggers want?"
Jazz quirked his optic ridge and took out four cubes.
"Oh don't get your turbines in a twist. We just want to thank you for your contributions that you two have been doing for the Autobot faction that's all!" Sideswipe huffed and crossed his servos across his broad chassis.
"Ah mean if ye two dunwanna then Sides an meh can just head over to Smoke and Aid there an' talk to em..."
Prowl vented heavily and gave in.
"Fine. No tricks you two?"
"There better not be any!"
The two bot shook their helms.
|•| Personal quarters. 1040
Ratchet stumbled into his quarter. Helm spinning as his bondmate caught him before he could trip over his peds. Concern fluttered over the veteran's faceplate.
"Brightspark? Ye alright there?"
Ratchet gave him a crazy drunk gaze. His normal blue optics covered by a layer of mist. Without warning the medic spun around and purged his morning energon into the discharge basket in the corner. Ironhide hurried to his side. His tanks flipped as he picked up a sent from his lover.
"High grade... Ratch how many times did ah tell ye not ta go around drinkin'? "He rubbed circles in the shoulder of the shaking form as Ratchet purged again before slumping backwards. Ironhide lowered his lover with surprising gentleness onto their berth.
"Highhh... Ughh.. dizzy... Equilibrium off.."
Ironhide narrowed his optics. Ratchet never drank. And even if he did it was always a maximum of a few sips. At the rate he was purging and shaking so much he must've had at least an entire cube of strong high-grade. Too much for his sensitive tanks.
There was a reason why Ratchet did not drink.
He remembered what his bondmate had told him when he himself came back a drunken mess.
"Ok go recharge and burn off all the fuel. If you still feel nauseous after two hours comm me. I'll get First Aid ok?"
Ratchet nodded and curled up into a pathetic ball before succumbing to recharge.
Ironhide stroked the slake faceplate and dropped a kiss on his chevron. He made his mental note to get some anti-hangover pills from First Aid after his shift. There was nothing he could do now.
|•| Somewhere outside the Ark 1200
/Are you serious?/
/Yeah. Prowler didn't even touch it! Merely subspaced it an said he had already refuelled. Ratchet did though. He was hungry I guessed. Ratchet drank his cube alright. He looked so woozy I wanted to laugh there and then! *smiling emoji*/
/Wow. I can't believe you actually made the Hatchet drunk.../
/But eh he dismissed himself and staggered back to his quarters. But altogether it was a 50% success. Well try again next week. Don't want then to get all suspicious./
/One day bro... Your pranks will go too far and something serious will happen.../
Sunstreaker promptly blocked the bond and concentrated on finishing his patrol ignoring his twin at his side.
|•| Prowl's office
"Prowl? Can ah talk ta you about somethin'?"
The tactician turned around and faced the red warrior.
"Knock next time Ironhide. Yes? What is it?"
"About the energon with Jazz, Sideswipe and Ratchet... Well you see I've to tell you..."
|•| Medbay 1330
Wheeljack got up with a jerk. His hydraulics started up again as he sat up on the berth. He was in the Medbay. And boy did he feel much better!
"Oh you're awake 'Jack." First Aid scurried up to him and unhooked the wires that was attached to him.
"Ratchet said your energon levels were at 18%. Had to put you on a drip."
No wonder the words on his datapad was blurring. Well it was time to get back to his research.
"Thanks Aid." He stood and stretched his shift joints as he looked around realising that there was somebot missing. "But where tall red and scary?"
The younger medic shrugged.
"I'd commed him and looked everywhere but eh I couldn't find him. I was on my way to find Ironhide..."
"Oh Aid! Just te bot ah wanted tah see."
"Speak of the devil... Hey Hide! Have you seen Ratch?" First Aid spoke out as he switched off the terminal that Wheeljack was previously lying on. Ironhide rested his arm on the doorway, his huge bulk literally taking up the entire exit.
"O'l Ratch came back lumbering into our quarter. He was as drunk as ya could imagine. Even purged twice. Do yeh have any anti-hangover pills fer him? Ah think he'll need it."
At First Aid's puzzled face Ironhide sighed.
"The stupid excuse of a red melee twin and out TIC found some high-grade Primus knows where and gave it to both Prowl and Ratchet."
Ironhide snarled and punched the wall leaving a dent that made the young medic wince inwardly. He knew- High-grade plus Ratchet equals to a recipe for disaster.
"I'll give him something... My mentor's tanks are not the best around here..."
Wheeljack suddenly turned pale as he ran down to his lab.
"Where da devil is he goin'?"
"Beats me... Come bring me to your quarter. I'll see what I can do."
|•| Brig 1500
"How long do we have ta stay here in the brig?"
"Two days... I thought you said Prowl was off our backs!"
"How was ah suppose ta know that Red was on surveillance duty at that hour?"
"Phfff you told me you'd it all covered! I just came back from afternoon patrol jeez!"
"Ah hope Ratch's ok... Ah mean how was ah supposed ta know he couldn't digest hig'-grade?"
|•| Somewhere in the corridors 1530
Sunstreaker tried not to groan as he headed over to the familiar office to drop off the reports.
He hated doing reports.
Especially on something that he didn't do.
Fine all he did was look out for his brother whist he collected the high-grade. Did that make him an accomplice? Well at least he wasn't in the brig with his obnoxious twin and surprisingly Jazz too. Trying not to snarl, the yellow warrior knocked on the office door.
"Enter."
"Look I didn't even know that they did that ok? I mean this time I swear I wasn't included in this prank."
Prowl nodded. His servos folded on his table.
"I'll let you go this time. It not far that you get punished for what your twin did. But do remember that your brother's prank had went too far. There's a reason why Ratchet doesn't favour energon. His tanks are hypersensitive due to the injury he sustained when he was younger. I'd to give him a three day leave with Ironhide's respectful command. Luckily I didn't intake this high-grade or I'll be flipping my tanks too." Prowl's engines rumbled as his words became sharper and lanced with unusual anger.
"I apologise on behalf of my twin sir: He didn't mean it." Sunstreaker started but the SIC waved him off.
"Just go... I don't want to see you for the next few days."
Well he didn't drink the energon! Sunstreaker grumbled as he got out of the office. What crawled into his tailpipe and died? It wasn't even his goddam fault! With a scowl fixed on his faceplate, he decided to go to Ratchet's quarters to see how he was doing. It was the least he could do.
"Ratch? Ironhide? Can I come in?"
Sunstreaker would never admit but he was slightly worried for his friend. Ratchet was one of the few officers that he respected. Yes he snarled at them. Yes he threw wrenches. Yes he screamed at then to get lost but he knew that deep down The Hatchet cared. That was just how he expressed his concern.
He didn't hear anything. Maybe he was in recharge. Cautiously, the golden warrior opened the door which was unlocked. The first thing that hit his olfactory sensors was the smell of half-processed high-grade. Purged out half-processed high-grade. The room was dark. The room was empty. Nobot in sight. Well with the description that Prowl gave him Ratchet couldn't have gone far. How big was the quarter?
"Lights at 30%"
The illuminating lights switched on and at that very moment Sunstreaker heard a small cry and a thud as something fell of the berth. He heard.
Crying?
Wait what?
Without thinking Sunstreaker rushed to the side of the berth.
"Ratchet are you ther-WHA FRAG?"
|•| Science Lab. 1530
"Primus! Where is it?"
Wheeljack scrambled shoving tools and data sheets aside. It was then where he regretted not clearing his table like what Ratchet told him to. Finally he found his tablet.
"Cybergise: When in contact with mid-grade would result in an opposite reaction... Cybergenerate. Both appear 100% pure under the range of ordinary and basic medical scanners alike. Only the more profound Medical scanners would be successful in differentiating the three different energy substances from the other…"
Wheeljack felt every cog in his body freeze as he realised what had happened.
The high-grade in his dispenser was an addition of both.
Sideswipe had somehow tricked the medic into drinking Cybergenerate.
And that was his last two samples.
This was bad.
This was very very bad.
Screw that- this was a catastrophe!
|•|Inside/Outside Ironhide and Ratchet's quarters 1535
"What. Did. You. Do!"
Sunstreaker found himself on the wrong side of Ironhide's wrath as he clawed at the strong servos that had him pinned. What did he just see! What the frag was that! His processors were spinning as Ironhide snarled, optics flashing with apocalyptic anger. Hot spears of pain rushed through his lower thigh as Ironhide slammed his other fist against the soft vulnerable yellow metal. Sunstreak yelped again as he wrestled the yellow warrior to the ground. Using his superior weight he kept him pinned. Metal screeched against metal and energon dripped from the split wound.
"Why in the fragging pits is he like that!"
"H-howw am I suppos-se t-t-to kno- AKK!"
But the young medic was oblivious to the fighting. Slowly, he lowered himself to the ground as low as he could without looking too pitiful crying did not cease. First Aid tried not to glitch as he picked up the little mech on the ground. Little blue optics shone with coolant as little digits held on to his chassis. His small grey chevon scrapped against his neck cables. The white and red paint with the pair of red crosses were a dead give away. There was no doubt about it.
This wailing sparkling in his arms was his mentor.