Jealousy
Megatron and Starscream watched as Bruticus went through his paces. It was the gestalt's first official test since the Combaticons' 'reconditioning' and both were interested to see how well he performed.
The tests were simple ones: tests of strength, agility, firepower and obedience to orders. Near where Megatron and Starscream stood on the cliff face watching, Scrapper and Hook were monitoring Bruticus's performance on a series of scanners and monitors. The rest of the Constructicons, there as much for the amusement factor as to scope out the competition, stood nearby adding their own murmured comments.
"Enough," Megatron said. "I've seen enough! Bruticus, disengage!"
"Bruticus obeys," the gestalt rumbled, separating into his components. The Combaticons flew to the cliff top, landing in a V-formation with Onslaught at the point.
"How was our performance?" Onslaught asked, standing straight and tall but keeping his optics cast slightly downward so as not to meet Megatron's gaze.
Megatron held up a hand, looking back toward the Constructicons. "Scrapper! What are your findings?"
"Preliminary findings show that Bruticus is performing at or above acceptable levels for a gestalt this newly created," Scrapper rasped. "He clearly requires direction in the field, but with suitable preparation, he will follow orders flawlessly."
Megatron laughed, head thrown back. "I like this creation of yours, Starscream," he said, favoring the Air Commander with a superior smile. "I wish I had an army of Bruticuses!"
"'I wish I had an army of Bruticuses'" Swindle mimicked Megatron over the Combaticons' internal radios. "What are we? Scrap metal?"
Vortex snickered back. "Look at Starscream. Could he get any further up Megatron's aft?"
"Maybe if he was a Conehead," Swindle said. "Be more aerodynamic that way. Aft-polishing' flyboy rust magnet!"
"Settle down," Onslaught said. "Starscream isn't important; it's what Megatron thinks that matters."
"Uh-huh, and it looks like Meggy likes Bruticus bestest of all," Swindle grumbled. "I'm just sayin', Onslaught, we were a team long before Bruticus came around. A good team -- we wouldn't have been able to cause half the trouble we did if we weren't good at what we do. So where the slag does Megatron get off with this "I wish I had an army of Bruticuses" kludge?"
"And shouldn't that be 'Brutici'?" Vortex asked, his head tilting to one side.
"Loathe as I am to admit it, for once Stumpy does have a point," Blast Off said, his voice a soft, cultured drawl -- one that the others were sure he spent half his time in space practicing. "It seems we're to be relegated to the background in favor of our newest 'teammate'."
"Slag that! Bruticus ain't nothin' without us! We'll show those bit-rotted clusterfrags!" Brawl barked and only long familiarity kept the other Combaticons from outwardly wincing in pain at the sudden loudness. "We're Combaticons, we don' take a backseat to nobody!"
"Damn straight," said someone so softly the others weren't sure who had spoken. Perhaps they all had. They were silent for a moment, before Onslaught broke the silence.
"Bruticus is our ticket back into the Empire," he said. "Without him, we'd likely be back in the detention center. Or permanently disabled this time. We owe our continued existence to Bruticus."
They were silent again, watching quietly as Megatron and Starscream congratulated one another, seemingly without noticing their presence.
"But we will prove to those self-satisfied glitches that we are more than the sum of our parts," Onslaught said.