A/N: So I have a Tumblr now: meloramaxwell. tumblr. com. There's not much there at the moment, but ask me something and you may get an answer!
Disclaimer: Nightraider, Dreadnought and Crossfire are my shinies; all other Transformers are the property of TakaraTomy, Marvel and Hasbro. Go have fun.
Warnings: Spoilers throughout for the '86 movie. If you haven't watched the '86 movie, I'm not upset, just very disappointed.
Italics denote telepathy
Hora Spissisima – Part 1
CE 2005, Cybertron, Imperial City State of Iacon, the Imperial Tower...
"Naaaa, na na na na-na-na na, na-na na na-na naaaaaa..."
Whatever that noise was, it probably didn't bode well for a quiet shift. Then again, few things in the general vicinity of the repair bay ever did, including the mechs and femmes who worked in there.
Grateful for any opportunity to avoid his admin duties, Knock Out poked his head around the edge of the medical storage area and squinted into the gloom. The sounds of scuffling met his audials, along with two instantly recognisable vocoders.
"Yo. Contact cement or epoxy?"
"Fragged if I know, jus' grab somethin' that says glue."
"Yeah, they're both gonna glue stuff, genius. Which one's better?"
"Apply previous comment 'Zee."
"...Meh, epoxy'll do. Anythin' wit' an x in the name's gotta be good, right?"
"Can't argue wit' an x."
Knock Out rolled his optics. In the glow of the store's refrigeration unit, he could just make out the blocky form of Frenzy perched on Rumble's equally angular shoulders, hastily gathering tubs of epoxy together with ill-concealed glee. The blue Cassette was clutching several boxes of what looked like different bolts and screws, and a set of glue brushes were slung around his frame on a bandoleer.
"We good?"
"Yep. You told the Coneheads yet?"
"Ready and waitin'. Let's do this."
The red Cassette slid down from his twin's shoulders, slung his bounty into his subspace and charged out into the corridor. Rumble followed at a slightly more sedate pace, muttering under his breath.
"Naaaa, na na na na-na-na na, na-na na na-na naaaaaa..."
Knock Out blinked.
Well, that happened.
In the main repair bay, Hook snorted and shook his head at the sight of the EMT's over-polished frame lurking in the doorway. "Knock Out, I see your aft, and it isn't doing filing. And if that's Barricade crashing about in the stores, tell him nice try, we already moved the cygars."
Standard procedure when medical supplies had been removed by a non-medic was to tattle-tale to the senior medial officer faster than Starscream with a fusion cannon at his temple, then a quick round of ore-datapad-bolt cutters determined who got to hunt down the unlucky thieves.
The sleek red Aston Martin frowned for a moment, then turned around and shrugged expansively. (1)
"Hmph. I'll pass it on if I see him."
Whatever the twins were planning, their creator and co-creator would deal with it. As long as he did a little blame-shifting first...
Just as he had done every day of the 18 months since the Decepticon conquest of Cybertron, Soundwave sat patiently at the communications desk, leads plugged into his torso ports, his CPU meticulously scanning the endless lines of Autobot security codes. Laserbeak perched silently on his right shoulder, her scarlet optics studying her creator's actions. Inside Soundwave's tape-deck, Buzzsaw filtered and recorded the information gleaned from the haphazardly secured lines of binary.
The Communications officer imperceptibly narrowed his optic band at two particular lines of code.
/000000011000111100011111000000111... Luna Alpha and Luna Beta energon stockpiles severely depleted./
/01111100000101000011110010010011000... Priority transmission for attention of Optimus Prime: energon supplies cleared for collection from Earth city-station Autobot City./
Unsurprising, considering that for the past 20 years Earth had become the Autobots' main energon supply line. And whatever the Prime's forces had managed to sneak past the Iaconian sensors was clearly not enough to both sustain an army and fuel an assault on Cybertron.
But this was the second decoded transmission that had related to energon supplies on the moons. The first had been not three weeks prior; Buzzsaw had spotted the relevant binary and had flagged it to his creator.
If the Autobots were able to fulfil their energy requirements for both lunar bases from this one delivery...
Soundwave quietly raised his right hand. Laserbeak spread her wings and hovered in the air next to her creator's head. The movement did not go unnoticed by the rest of the senior officers.
"What news, Soundwave?"
"Lord Megatron. Autobot transmission; decoded."
The Decepticon emperor leaned over his officer's shoulder, red optics studying the text unblinkingly. Shockwave spared the duo a glance from his own workstation, grateful for a respite from listening to Starscream whine about his latest aerial recruits.
Megatron leaned back and folded his arms across his chestplates, his brows furrowed in thought.
"Have you been able to confirm if this energon depletion can be replenished from a single supply run?"
"Replenishment levels; unconfirmed. Suggestion; Laserbeak should perform surveillance on Luna Alpha. Autobot vocalisers; know to be loud when silent running is not enforced."
The silver gun-former nodded at the patiently hovering scarlet condor. "Then attend to your duties Laserbeak."
With an avian screech, Laserbeak shot out of the command tower and soared into the Iaconian skies towards Luna Alpha.
Like her creator, the femme condor had her own suspicions about how well their enemy was managing their fuel supplies.
Unlike the Decepticons who had been quick to establish solar, coal and oil refineries and conversion plants across the Pacific Basin within a few months of their reawakening on Earth, the Autobots had been primarily dependent on the goodwill of humanity and the abilities of their alt-modes to convert Earth fuels into energon. After the Decepticon space bridge had been built in Nevada in late 1984, Megatron's forces had been able to start sending regular shipments back to Cybertron where, under Shockwave's careful management, the last remaining munitions factories had been able to be sustained and then expanded, while others were reopened on a strict schedule.
The energon facility known as Autobot City had been under construction since 2001, and had only reached full production capacity within the past year. Prior to that, the only energon the moons and outposts had received on a semi-regular basis was what the Autobot Femme Division had been able to steal from the storage hangers in Iacon. After the re-conquest, the thefts had dropped to zero.
Laserbeak engaged her signal dampeners as she passed the edge of space and made a wide, graceful arc towards the nest of twinkling lights emanating from Luna Alpha's dark side.
All bets pointed towards the Autobot weapons specialist running his vocaliser off first.
In Soundwave's quarters, Ratbat pouted and glowered at the scene on the floor, and dug his claws just a little bit harder into his co-creator's cockpit.
Nightraider rolled her optics and tapped at the page icon on her bookpad. "Jealousy is not attractive Ratbat, we've been through this."
The little bat's pout deepened. But I was here first, and he's in my spot.
On the floor, his cuddly cybercat at his side and blissfully unaware of the petulant sulk the youngest Cassette was having, Crossfire happily scratched at Ravage's underbelly. The feline Cassette was stretched out on his back, purring in utter contentment, his back legs occasionally pedalling in the air whenever the little gun-former hit a particularly itchy spot.
Nightraider spared her youngest co-creation a glance. "Perhaps he is, but we've all discussed this, and Crossfire loves felinoids and he's a bit... special, so he's allowed to have as much time with Ravage as he wants."
But I'm special.
"You are, but in a different way to Crossfire."
The F-14 was careful to keep her next thoughts to herself. Prematurity is one thing. Prematurity combined with what Crossfire was sparked with is another.
She slid down the berth and rolled onto her still-tender side, Ratbat quickly repositioning himself to hang off the side of her cockpit. Reaching down to the floor to grab her cube of low-grade, she paused for a moment to study the luminous pink fuel.
Energon rations were still strictly enforced, even after 18 months of total planetary occupation. The Autobots were in no hurry to squander their meagre resources, and the Decepticons were too long accustomed to running on the lower wartime rations to risk the possibility of increasing their fuel consumption to peacetime levels. However, that didn't mean that rations hadn't increased, or that a number of high grade stills weren't being run out of various sleeping quarters, but the senior officers had left the 'management' of said stills to Swindle.
Officially, this had been listed as 'seemed like a good idea at the time.'
The extra rations were definitely appreciated, not least by the various sets of bondmates dotted throughout Iacon and Darkmount. Obsidian and Strika, Skywarp and Thundercracker, Esmeral and Deathsaurus; to name three pairs and omit probably a dozen more who hadn't been caught out by routine physicals. It was never spoken about openly, but those known to be bonded were granted increased rations in order to maintain functionality when separated from their mates.
As for Soundwave and herself... the past year and a half had taught the femme jet more than a few things about her bondmate.
When on duty and outside their quarters, Soundwave was never anything less than the reserved, hyper-capable Communications officer and joint third-in-command alongside Shockwave. When he was off duty and spending time with his creations, he was still a little reserved, but far more willing to show his emotions and indulge in displays of affection. All of the Cassettes were aware that Soundwave was not the most demonstrative of mechs, but none of them ever doubted how much he cared for them, or how deeply his creator programming was embedded in his core systems.
When the two of them were off duty and alone?
Nightraider held back a smirk as she knocked back the contents of her cube.
Teasing and testing that reserve with her fuselage and their bond until it broke was something she doubted she would ever get tired of. Soundwave had kept his word about making up for lost time in more creative ways than she had anticipated, and even his more straightforward demonstrations of physical appreciation would more often than not end with dented hip plating, her legs slung over his shoulders and her screaming his name at the ceiling.
That alone was worth the extra rations.
Starscream had pleaded for extra soundproofing and an occupancy transfer within two days of his return to Cybertron.
Both requests were ignored.
Neither Soundwave nor Nightraider could bring themselves to care.
A squeak from Crossfire caught her attention. The little gun-former was now giggling as Ravage batted at his hands, his paws always careful to miss the small purple digits, but swiping just close enough to be a playful threat.
Nightraider let a small smile cross her faceplates, one she reserved only for the Cassettes and Crossfire. "What happened to art time, sweetspark?"
Crossfire twisted around to face his guardian, his single optic bright with pleasure. "Art time all done. Time for kitty scratchies!"
"And Ravage just happened to agree with this?"
"Yep!"
Ravage didn't bother moving from where he was sprawled out on the floor. Far be it from me to disappoint a sparkling. Especially one who offered so politely.
Ratbat looked wounded. ...But I can do scratchies. I can do good scratchies.
You can indeed, little brother. But frankly, anyone who isn't Rumble or Frenzy can provide excellent scratchies.
The feline Cassette's optics narrowed as he sat up and glanced around. And speaking of my dear demented siblings, has anyone seen them recently?
Crossfire shook his head and clutched his cybercat to his chestplates. Ratbat stretched his wings and rubbed at a sticky patch of energon on his cheek.
They were here a little while ago.
"...Naaaa, na na na na-na-na na, na-na na na-na naaaaaa..."
BANG
Nightraider narrowed her own optics at the sudden burst of music.
"What was that?"
"Naaaa, na na na na-na-na na, na-na na na-na naaaaaa..."
CLONK
Ravage sighed. And I think that answers my question.
The F-14 swung her legs off the berth, Ratbat still proudly clinging onto her cockpit, and leaned next to the door, her hand poised over the locking mechanism. "Why does that song sound familiar, and how much will I regret looking outside?"
Ravage stretched and padded towards the door, pausing briefly to pick Crossfire off the floor by the scruff-bar. Because it's from a video game Rumble and Frenzy both love, and I believe the word you're looking for is immensely. Immensely regret.
Nightraider pressed the lock and stood back. "And the verdict is..."
"Naaaa, na na na na-na-na na, na-na na na-na NAAAAAA!"
CLA-THUNK
The door hissed open in time for all of the occupants to witness a giant ball of plating, spare parts, nuts, bolts, tubs, empty energon cubes and Rumble's legs go rolling down the corridor, all propelled by a giggling Frenzy. The red Cassette had his speakers playing at top volume and was roaring along with the song Nightraider had just heard, which appeared to consist entirely of the word 'na'.
Ratbat and Crossfire immediately started bouncing along to the music from their respective perches. Both of them recognised the track and which game it was from only too well.
Closely following behind the red Cassette were Skywarp, Misfire, Spinister, the Coneheads and Astrotrain; Swindle was bringing up the rear and more interested in counting up his sheaf of credits than looking where he was going.
A black hand swooped across his field of vision and swiped the credits out of his hand. "Hey- oh slag."
The resident weapons dealer's expression morphed from infuriated to petrified in a sparkbeat.
Nightraider leaned against the doorframe, idly glancing back and forth between the credits in her hand and Swindle's panicked expression. "...I have a few questions about this situation."
Swindle tented his fingers together and adopted something approaching a winsome grin. "Can any of them be negated with a healthy bribe?"
"Probably not, but if you feel like trying, then please go ahead."
Ravage sat at his co-creator's feet and peered down the corridor, Crossfire still dangling happily from his jaws. The twins got bored and broke into the repair bay stores, didn't they.
Swindle went into full 'plausible deniability' mode. "I can neither confirm nor deny-"
An oil-smooth vocaliser broke in. "Oh, but I can."
Nightraider raised an eye-ridge at the newcomer's familiar frame. "Knock Out."
The EMT flicked a brief salute at his senior officer before leaning against the wall, arms folded across his immaculately polished chassis and an impish grin on his faceplates.
"Can't say I knew what they were planning, but they did get ahold of this..."
He held up a mostly-empty tub of quick-set epoxy.
"Just thought you should know."
Nightraider studied the tub quietly, and then made the universal gesture for 'fork it over'. If this was the stuff she thought it was, her remaining off-duty hours were about to become somewhat complicated.
Well, not so much complicated as fragging irritating.
The combined noise of Frenzy's singing, the assorted clangs and crashes, and the whoops from the others had made the full loop of the senior officers' residential area and was now turning back towards the communal areas.
She slapped the fistful of credits back in Swindle's outstretched palm, yanked a sheet of plastic out of her subspace and wrapped it around her right hand.
"Naaaa, na na na na-na-na na, na-na na na-na naaaaaa..."
The ball of metal was now clattering down the corridor at an impressive speed, picking up whatever pieces of assorted metal and rubbish lay in its path.
Shoving the ball a few feet in front of him, Frenzy dug his hands into the tub of Vaseline strapped to his front, rubbed the jelly over his palms, and resumed steering the ball around the corner and back down towards the mess hall. Inside the ball, Rumble was screeching with mad glee. "Faster faster faster faster!"
Best. Game. Ever.
Not sure whose idea it was, but still.
Best. Game. Ever.
"Naaaa, na na na na-na-na na, na-na na na-na naaaaaa!"
The ball clanged off the opposite wall and bounced merrily down the corridor. Frenzy charged after it, almost tripping over his own feet to catch it before-
The ball abruptly stopped rolling. Wheezing slightly, Frenzy caught up with it and gave it a shove, mindful that a good portion of the Decepticon Air Corps would soon be halfway up his aft if he didn't move it.
The ball still didn't shift.
"Naaaa, na na na na-na-na na, na-na na na-na naaaaaa!"
Shuffling to the side, he kicked it once.
Tap-tap.
Rumble's voice echoed from inside the ball. "Dude, why'd we stop?"
"Ahem."
Frenzy's optics widened.
Uh-oh.
Knowing that what he was about to see wasn't going to be good, he slowly moved his optics upwards past the ball, past a nervous-looking Swindle, past a smirking Knock Out, and finally stopping at the all-too-familiar and annoyed form of his femme co-creator, one of her hands wrapped in Saran Wrap and resting lightly atop the ball.
Skywarp, Dirge, Ramjet, Thrust and Misfire charged around the corner, took one look at the situation and made one of the fastest tactical retreats ever recorded on Cybertron.
Or at least they would have done, if they hadn't crashed straight into Astrotrain and Spinister. All the flyers hit the deck and proceeded to start an impressive seven-way bitch-fight.
The music thumping out from Frenzy's speakers reached its crescendo, and was joined by Crossfire's and Ratbat's voices in perfect unison.
"KATAMARI DAMACY!"
"And Misfire!? What precisely did I do to deserve the punishment of training a jet with all the self-preservation instincts of a cyberbee and targeting accuracy of an air-rifle!?" Starscream made a sweeping gesture towards the Decepticon Air Corps training area before resting a hand on his hip plating.
Not for the first time, Shockwave idly mused on what precisely he had done to deserve having the silver and red F-15 raving at full auto-shriek in his left audial. Then again, when Starscream felt he had been hard-done-by, he tended to throw a sulk around whatever or whoever was most convenient; failing that he would stalk off to the medical bay and attempt to flirt with/irritate Lyzack. The young femme jet fortunately seemed to be immune to his advances, going so far as to threaten the Air Commander with a sword through the spark via the exhaust pipe unless he backed off.
Starscream just shrugged off the distinct possibility of grievous bodily harm and kept on pushing.
The Military Operations officer was just about to suggest Lyzack as a substitute sounding board when the tower's proximity sensors went off.
Megatron rose from his throne and Soundwave pushed himself away from his console and moved to stand beside his purple colleague, his spark unclenching in relief at the sight of his only femme creation darting across the Iaconian skyline.
"Laserbeak returns, Megatron." The purple gun-former lowered the energy partition in the main window.
Laserbeak swooped through the open window and immediately perched on Megatron's arm, her optics bright.
The Decepticon emperor treated the condor to a rare smile. "Welcome, Laserbeak. Unlike some of my other warriors," here he shot a pointed look at Starscream, "you never fail me."
Starscream returned the look with a snarl of his own.
Megatron raised his arm, launching the scarlet Cassette back into the air. "Soundwave, play back Laserbeak's findings."
"As you command, Megatron."
Laserbeak glided across the room and slotted precisely into her creator's tape deck. Soundwave shifted effortlessly to his alt-mode and connected himself to the main Iacon database.
Inside his tape deck, Laserbeak's playback systems engaged as her frame settled next to her beloved twin's. Buzzsaw sent a quiet pulse of pride through their bond, as he always did whenever his sister safely returned from a mission.
The main viewscreen flickered, and reformed into the all-too-familiar faceplates of Optimus Prime, his right hand raised and index finger pointed as if to issue one of his famous decrees. "I want you to make a special run to Autobot City on Earth."
Footage of open flight paths between Earth and Cybertron flickered across the screen.
Ironhide was next to speak. "But Prime...!"
The Autobot commander cut him off. "Listen Ironhide, we don't have enough energon cubes to power a full-scale assault. Ready the shuttle for launch."
The screen displayed an image of the Rebellion, one of the latest Autobot-Terran military cruisers, refuelling in the Luna Alpha shipyard.
Prime appeared one final time, watching as the shuttle departed the moon base in a cloud of fuel and flames. "Now, all we need is a little energon, and a lot of luck."
Shockwave and Starscream exchanged significant looks.
The screen cut to static, bathing Megatron's almost gleeful expression in an eerie glow. He chuckled darkly and pointed at the monitor. "More than you imagine, Optimus Prime."
He turned and nodded at his second-in –command. "Starscream, isolate the flight path of the Rebellion and confirm ETA on Earth."
"As you command, oh mighty Megatron." Starscream offered a mocking bow and went about his duties.
Megatron ignored him and turned to Shockwave, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Shockwave, once Starscream has confirmed the flight path, set co-ordinates on the space bridge to teleport a strike force to the Martian asteroid belt."
Shockwave simply nodded. "It shall be done as you ask."
Finally, Soundwave fell under his leader's inscrutable gaze. "Soundwave, assemble all of your Cassettes. Their skill sets will be of great value to us when we arrive on Earth."
The Communications officer nodded and turned to leave the command deck. His spark flickered; the psychic energy tugging at the bonds between himself, his bondmate and his creations.
Buzzsaw and Laserbeak were naturally the first to respond, safely pressed against each other and his spark chamber in turn. Ravage and Ratbat were next to respond; the felinoid's mental energy charged with malevolent amusement while his baby brother's energy bounced and fluctuated with delight.
Nightraider radiated sheer frustration through their bond when he probed deeper, along with a 'suggestion' that was more of a demand to move his aft down to the repair bay.
Inwardly, Soundwave groaned.
If his bondmate was that peeved, and Ravage and Ratbat were both amused, and the twins had yet to respond...
He let his pedes carry him into the lift closest to the entrance to the repair bay and braced himself.
Knock Out leaned against the doorway into the repair bay wash racks, smirking in somewhat perverted delight.
"Soapy femme!"
Frenzy coughed carwash shampoo out of his vocaliser and tried to yank his hands away from the Katamari.
"Nnnnnngh!"
"I told you; don't pull at it until I say so!"
"But I'm itchy!"
"Do I look like I give a flying frag if you're itchy? Now shut up and brace yourself."
Nightraider turned the high-pressure hose on the middle of the room and braced herself as several gallons of hexane, water and energon splashed over the whining Cassette-Katamari.
"Yank as hard as you can!"
The red Cassette braced himself against the Katamari and wrenched his arms backwards. The metal creaked, but not a single gap could be seen in the epoxy bonds that attached him to the giant ball in spite of the petroleum jelly over his hands.
"Nope, nuthin'!"
Nightraider shut the hose off and slumped down on the tiled floor, her faceplates scrunched up in exasperation. Behind her, safely cuddled in a pile of clean buffing rags, Ravage watched the proceedings with an almost unholy glee. Ratbat and Crossfire giggled together, the little bat's dislike of the gun-former temporarily forgotten, both occasionally squeaking "Katamari Damacy" whenever Rumble, Frenzy or Nightraider emitted a particularly choice phrase.
"I repeat, soapy femme!"
Nightraider glowered at the EMT and attempted to wipe the smears of WD-40 and soap scum off her arms and legs. "Very well observed and yet no-one cares. Are you actually going to help me?"
Knock Out studied his fingertips with a practiced air of nonchalance. "Primus no; I'm off duty."
"Then why are you still hanging around? You aren't exactly known for appreciating femmes in the way you're suggesting."
The Aston Martin acknowledged her words with a head tilt and a shrug. "Perhaps, but I can still appreciate a nice soapy fuselage when it's in front of me. And you know all medics take their kicks wherever they can get them."
He wiggled his eye-ridges. Nightraider rolled her optics, then brightened up slightly as a familiar and beloved frame appeared behind Knock Out's shoulder.
"Well, appreciate it somewhere else. The creator's in the house."
Inside the Katamari, Rumble produced a sound akin to a panicked squawk. Frenzy desperately yanked at his hands again and whimpered.
Soundwave stepped around Knock Out's departing frame and into the wash racks. His optic band took in the scene before him; the giant ball made of spare parts, nuts and bolts and what appeared to be both Rumble and Frenzy; his eldest and youngest Cassettes watching in happy anticipation of what their creator would do to their siblings; Crossfire cuddled next to Ravage and giggling in delight, and lastly his bondmate sitting in a puddle of soapy energon and water, covered in oil and soap smears with a look of murder in her optics. The sight of the latter in her current state did cause a small burst of static build-up in his interface unit, but that could and would be acted upon later.
He said nothing for a few moments. After several million years of witnessing the twins' unparalleled lack of judgement, very few of their antics could ever faze him now. Nightraider idly tapped her fingers against the tiles and waited.
"Confirm; type of adhesive used?"
The F-14 simply held up the remaining tub of epoxy.
"Conventional cleaning and separation methods; unsuccessful?"
Nightraider exhaled. "There is one guaranteed method, but it might be seen as a tad extreme."
Frenzy finally piped up. "We choose extreme!"
"You don't even know what it is."
Rumble's voice cheerily wafted out from inside the Katamari. "We'll still go for it!"
Nightraider silently transmitted the separation method to her mate through their bond. Soundwave glanced briefly at the ball, then at his chronometer, and then knelt down next to the femme jet.
"Separation method; will not damage them?"
"Strictly cosmetic damage only."
"Treatment; duration?"
"Half an hour; one hour tops?"
"Terms; acceptable."
Nightraider smirked and raised a hand up to his face. With only his Cassettes and Crossfire there to witness it, Soundwave pressed his hand over his femme's and held it against his face-mask.
The femme jet briefly rested her helm against his. "And people say you never give me presents."
Soundwave stood, lifting Nightraider up with him. "Request; separate Cassettes quickly. All Cassettes; required for Earth infiltration mission."
Knowing she would get the details soon enough, the F-14 sauntered towards the door, evil delight shining in her optics.
"Oh Lyzack?"
The teal femme jet poked her head round the door. "Yes?"
Nightraider beamed. "Could you be a dear and rustle me up a tank of liquid nitrogen and a sledgehammer please?"
Both of the twins squeaked.
TBC
(1) Be honest, do you want the suave ball of snark and snuggles that is TFP Knock Out, or the nonentity backhoe from G1 who passes out when he gets too excited?