Okay, um, so I was listening to music (before you go ANY FURTHER, you are to go to YouTube and find "C&C Hell March 2 First to Last Remix and play it as you begin to read). This is yet another AU, it doesn't fit into Savage or Normal timelines.

R&R. Enjoy.


Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.
Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.

He stood at the window, watching the soldiers as they marched across the courtyard, back toward the barracks. They moved in unison, one organism, as their field commander called out orders. They would shift their weapons from one shoulder to the other upon command, albiet with the occasional lag or slacking.

Such imperfections. There was no reason for this.

"Posture needs work... Back left of the center is slacking in proper weapon handling... I'm very disappointed in their presentation, half the intimidation factor is appearance. Have they no self-respect? Not to mention, they'd likely drop their weapons in battle before they could get the safeties off. I'll need to have a word with Ironhide about this."

He turned from the window and returned to his desk, taking a seat and awakening his many touch-screens with a tap to the center one. "Wake up, Daddy's home," he smirked, ghosting his fingertips across the screens. "Now... let me see..." He tapped one of the screens, sliding it to the center and expanding it by pulling the corners in opposite diagonals. "Computer, call."

Please state the name of the party you wish to contact.

"Field Commander Ironhide."

Calling Field Commander Ironhide.

:Mnhm, 'lo?:

"Ironhide. We need to talk."

:Sir! Wha' d'yeh need?:

"I'd like to speak to you regarding the poor presentation of the soldiers. I've never seen such terrible slouches, and such horrific handling of weaponry. I've told you time and time again, Ironhide, half of the intimidation factor-"

:'S appearance, I know, sir, but yeh can' expec' 'em ta be all tha' energetic aft' yeh've had 'em marchin' fer megacycles-:

"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but... it sounds as if you were arguing with me, Ironhide. Or worse still, questioning my orders. Now, that can't possibly be so, can it?"

:... No sir. 'Course no'. I'll ge' righ' on i' 'n trainin' t'marra.:

"See that you do, Ironhide. As you were."

:Thank yeh, sir.:

He ended the call, glancing at the time, then turning his audios toward the intercom speaker as a voice droned out of it. "All cadets should now be in the barracks for evening call."

He looked back to his desk, and heard the doors to his chamber open and close, and the delicate sound of a female's footsteps clicked across the floor to him.

He didn't turn to her. "You're. Late."

"And I apologize, but... you know how those mean old guards at the front gate are."

"That doesn't excuse you. I expect you here on time."

She rested her hands on his shoulders, massaging the struts with the balls of her thumbs. "Oh now, come, relax."

"You know I can't relax when my routine has been interrupted. You were late, female." He pushed her off, then turned around as he heard her hit the floor. She whimpered, looking up at him from the tile. He pulled her up by the wrist, and possessively against himself. "You won't do it again."

"No... no, never."

"Never what."

"Never, sir."

He adjusted his grip on her wrists. "Tell me who you belong to. And you know what I want to hear." He tightened his grip.

She gasped, looking up at him. "I belong to you, Prowl."


Betcha didn't see that one coming, did you? Yes, this female took forever to develop. It's so hard to get concubines right -sigh- I sincerely disapprove of my decision here. I think it was more just me giving him a prostitute to abuse.