Ahhh, this was painfully fun to write.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to think of an original reason why the Seekers have their names? I'll have you know that this consumed my thoughts for quite a while.
It's hard. I honestly thought I would be able to think of something, but I fear I have failed you all, readers. There is nothing that hasn't been done; every single reason has been exploited, and there is nothing left. D:
I realised this, and it was actually quite saddening. However, I decided that this was not the end. The reasons behind their names will be wearily generic and overused, but I'm Kibblifying them.
(Well, I gave up on Starscream. Honestly, I love it, but what a ridiculous name. What idiot ever named him?)
Hopefully the reasons will bring smiles to your faces.
The basis for Thundercracker - and hopefully Skywarp, if I ever manage to Kibblify him- will come in chapter five.
Anyway, I've rambled enough.
Thank you so much for your reviews, everybody! I said it last chapter, but it honestly is the truth. You are all brilliantly sweet- your comments are absolutely a pleasure to read.
You all seem to like Ratchet. x) Well, there's not much of him this time, but I'll definitely get him some prime time for you all. You know you want a chapter following Ratchet and his abusees. That isn't a word. Never mind! xD
Here's chapter four: please enjoy! :D
He was sulking; that much was obvious.
Tiny, narrowed red optics betrayed a definite mood going on- although the Seeker made no attempt to hide his displeasure. After having awoken from Ratchet's alarmingly powerful sedation he had wailed some more, unrelentingly and rather annoyingly.
Luckily there was a cure for this.
Megatron had managed to convince Ratchet not to use another tranquiliser, but the mechling was not happy with him. Not happy at all. He had been firmly and deliberately bitten, and the Seeker had dared to narrow his optics at Optimus.
Megatron surprisingly also succeeded in persuading an enraged Ironhide not to shoot the sparkling (although after much ado), and the mech had settled for rotating his cannons grimly in the sparkling's face before watching Megatron attempt to return him to the incubator. This was somewhat tricky as the raging mechling insisted on biting him and squirming at the same time.
Eventually, Megatron managed to stuff him through the gap and back to his still snoozling seekerlet sidekicks. With a snarl, the Seeker attempted to snap at him once more before diving back into the space he had previously vacated and curling up in a quivering ball. This diving involved squeezing between the other sparklings, who woke with a start.
The mech turned away when-
"MEGATRON! GET ME THE OTHERS, YOU SLOW BUFFOON!"
One day, Megatron promised himself, one day, I will be able to reach Ratchet's standards.
He eyed the incubator suspiciously. The beige Seeker didn't appear much of a threat at the moment. His sparkling buddies were snuggling him reassuringly and the blue mechling was watching Megatron suspiciously- perhaps it would be best to start with him.
The black sparkling VOPped suddenly and reappeared- with a painful smack- into the glass.
Megatron winced and hurriedly picked him up, then reached for the blue, who glared at his hand.
The beige Seeker wailed loudly as his other companion was taken away, and Megatron quickly shut the incubator, thanking his lucky stars when the wail reduced to mere silence.
Soundproofing was possibly the most beautiful thing ever invented.
"MEGATRON! SHOULD YOU HAVE BEEN CALLED MAMMOTH-TRON? HURRY UP!"
The mech scowled and exited Ratchet's office with the seekerlets in both hands.
"Over on this table," the medic ordered. "The blue one, if you please."
Megatron placed the requested Seeker down and rearranged the black mechling, who pouted at him with a squeak.
Ratchet started poking the sparkling professionally. The blue Seeker gave him a death-glare, but he gave a better one back, sending the mechling into a dignified compliance.
"He's a fine size," the CMO declared, continuing his examination.
"Joy," Megatron expressed with much delight.
The black mechling screwed up his tiny face and VOPped.
Ratchet blinked. "What was that noise?"
"SPARKLING-!" Megatron snarled, ripping it off of his helm and dumping it on the table. "I have told you about this!"
"Such violence," Ratchet tutted. "Where did you get it from?"
"I know where I still do get it from," Megatron growled, calming himself down slowly.
One of Ratchet's fingers suddenly split into multiple slimmer versions, with which he delicately inspected the mechling's face, pulling and pushing gently at his features. "And where would that be? Ah, lovely dental plates."
"You are evil," the silver mech replied. "And don't try to deny it. I've seen you hack into the security feed and tell Jazz where to find Prowl."
"Prowl needs some imagination," Ratchet retorted. "Besides, your mother was more evil than I am."
"That's an outright lie! She was only evil when you were abusing Optimus and I!"
"That wasn't abuse," the CMO refuted. "I was merely looking out for you out of the goodness of my spark-"
"With wrench wounds and stasis cuffs?"
Ratchet cursed to himself. "I didn't think you remembered that."
"I remember everything. And one orn, I'm going to file a case against you. Witnesses and victims alike will flock forwards and you'll go down for life."
"Sure I will." Ratchet turned suddenly with a gleam in his optic. "If they're not too afraid."
"They'll be more afraid of me," Megatron declared.
"You wish."
"That's it," the bigger mech decided. "That's it; I'm going to be as evil as I can. Then the orn I open this case, you'll see- we'll rise against you."
"I'd like to see it happen."
"Oh, you will."
"We both know you won't- Optimus would be more likely to do such a thing than you. He's more like your father."
"Noble and righteous?"
"Idiotic and self-sacrificing," Ratchet agreed, now selecting the black Seeker.
"Oh, come on! He wasn't that bad."
"He was. Always running off first without any regard for personal safety- and, dare I say it, without any regard for Ironhide and I. Who was it who had to bodyguard and thus run after him on considerably shorter legs-"
Megatron sniggered. "Let's assume you're talking about yourself."
"Who was it who had to fix him?" Ratchet continued, growing more emphatic by the second.
"Your choice of profession was not my father's fault."
"So tell me," the medic unexpectedly burst out, "who is it that has to live with his death and know that there must have been something they could have done?"
Taken aback, the other mech blinked, unsure of how to respond. "Ratch, he-"
"He knew what would happen," Ratchet seethed, distress fading to anger. "And he nearly took his sons with him. Why do you think Ironhide takes guarding Optimus so to spark? He doesn't want history to repeat itself, that's why."
In the quiet that settled, a soft VOP and sudden weight indicated that the black Seeker had taken refuge on Megatron's helm.
Ratchet suddenly looked past him into his office. "You did shut the incubator?"
"Of course."
The CMO headed into the other room, and, hearing a sigh, Megatron decided to follow.
As he did so, the blue Seeker jumped onto his back and ascended to cling onto his arm.
"You didn't," Ratchet said dryly.
Megatron entered the office and saw the beige Seeker manically throwing itself around the room. "...What is he doing?"
"Having a spaz attack," Ratchet replied. "Get him, would you?"
"He hates me."
"He wants to be with you forever."
"Really?"
"No. But it's your fault he escaped, so you can deal with him. The alternative is me finding those stasis cuffs."
Megatron hurriedly peeled the Seekers off of himself before eyeing the path of the beige sparkling. "I'm not Prowl; I can't decipher any kind of pattern from that! How am I supposed to intercept him-?"
Ratchet flexed his fingers.
Scowling, Megatron decided to try the easy way. "BEIGE!"
The mechling froze in an upside-down position on the ceiling.
Ratchet narrowed his optics in approval, and the other Seekers jabbered anxiously.
"Get down here," Megatron ordered, pointing at Ratchet's desk.
The sparkling watched him nervously and did nothing.
"Now, beige. Do not test me."
The Seeker let go of his ceiling and splatted into the ground with a painful smash.
"Oh, Primus. What a failure," Megatron sighed, making his way over. "Did you hurt yourself?"
The sparkling glanced up to see the huge mech looming towards him and shrieked, scurrying into the closest corner.
The black Seeker wailed gently, wing nubs twitching rapidly, and clung onto the quietly hissing blue mechling.
Ratchet watched them with a slight frown before glancing back to Megatron, who was right by his target.
"Are you alright?" the silver mech asked worriedly as the Seeker, unable to move any further, shrank away.
Petrified, the sparkling closed his optics and quivered miserably.
Megatron picked him up tenderly. "Where do you want him, Ratch?"
"Hold onto him," the CMO decreed, frown still in place.
"But he's shaking-"
"Dump him back in his corner then."
"The blunt tone is unnecessary," Megatron scowled.
The Seekers on the desk watched him intently. Very intently.
"Why are they so attentive? ...Ratchet?"
The CMO was busy thinking, fingers steepled. "...Put him in the incubator."
Trying to ignore the evil emphasis, Megatron managed to post the sparkling through a small gap in the incubator 'door', as it were.
It fell to the base with an indignant squawk, and Ratchet pointed at it menacingly. "Watch this, Seeker." Without any further ado, he swiftly inserted a needle into the blue sparkling's arm; the mechling didn't even flinch. "That's how it's supposed to happen," the medic declared, glaring meaningfully at the beige.
The sulking Seeker skulked at the back of the incubator, pacing back and forth agitatedly.
"...See?" Megatron asked, gesturing at his fellow sparklings. "They aren't making a fuss."
The black Seeker was too busy trying to strangle Ratchet's finger to notice any needles entering his body.
The luminous mech triumphantly wired them up to some odd little canisters. "Time to overdose on vitamins, Seekers."
"Isn't overdosing a bad thing?"
"Not," Ratchet declared, "when the overdosing is in my hands."
The black Seeker was busy trying to hug the canister- the blue watching him wearily- when Ironhide burst into the room, cannons brandished. At Ratchet's filthy glare, he reluctantly spoke. "...Any... threats?"
"You will have a severe one to your weapons systems in a minute!" Ratchet roared, flinging a giant saw at him.
The black mech gleefully calculated the path it would take and obliterated it. Unfortunately, this was just a diversion- the medic suddenly had a firm hold on one of his cannons. After freezing in automatic response to an alarmingly close Ratchet, Ironhide tactfully retracted the weapon at speed.
"Can we name them now?" Optimus asked, entering and saving Ironhide from dismemberment.
"Of course you can," Ratchet replied sweetly, detaching the blue and black sparklings from the canisters. "Just remember to give them appropriate designations. Ironhide, Optimus- you take this one."
He headed for the beige with an evil light to his optics, but Megatron determinedly handed Ironhide the blue Seeker, who was so far the least troublesome.
At this point, Jazz evidently had to arrive, tugging a defeated Prowl behind him. "Found him!"
"Where were you this time?" Prime asked.
"I thought I was safe under my own desk," the tactician sighed.
"He nearly was," Jazz confirmed. "Opened his door- nobody there. Almost didn't think he could cope with being so close to his desk and not working at it."
"What gave you away?"
"I could hear him attacking a data-pad," Jazz beamed, grabbing the taller mech in a helmlock. "Silly Prowlie- you'll never best me!"
Prowl muttered some kind of oath quietly.
Ratchet's optics evaluated them before he thrust the black sparkling in their direction, dumping it in Prowl's arms. "Name it."
Jazz wailed in joy and clutched at the other mech's chassis. "Oh, Prowlie! We're fathers! We- we should call him Jazz Junior- or Prowlie Junior!"
"Inappropriate," Prowl replied stiffly. "Very- very inappropriate."
Megatron was impressed that the mech hadn't fritzed- especially when Ratchet opened the incubator and the beige Seeker shot at him. He felt like fritzing himself. "Ratch, what is this-?" The sparkling warbled at him, now clinging to his chassis. "You aren't Ratchet. Shut up."
"They need names," the CMO replied sweetly. "Appropriate Seeker names. Get to it."
"What! No, I'm a busy mech- and he doesn't need a name; none of them do! They're fine as they are-!"
Too late.
Prowl had already been forced out of the room by a scarily gleeful Jazz, and a departing Optimus was musing with Ironhide.
"Ratchet, this is ludicrous!"
"There's no harm in naming them," the medic replied smugly. "Besides, they'll need some if their creators don't come."
"I hate you," Megatron almost wailed.
The beige Seeker wailed with him.
"Hurry up or you'll miss the fun," Ratchet sniggered, then was abruptly serious. "Really, go. I can't handle his wailing."
Megatron sulked his way out of the CMO's office, only to find the other victims of the Seekers waiting for him.
"So, Megsy!" Jazz began enthusiastically. "What now? You're th'Seeker expert!"
"...You did not just wink at me."
"Cunning, eh? A flash of my visor, like this!"
"Stop flashing!"
Ironhide suppressed a snigger, attracting Prime's attention.
"Look, 'hide, I can carry a sparkling-"
"No," the warrior replied firmly, holding onto the blue Seeker. "Definitely not. If there's an attack, you need all of your wits about you."
Prowl had had enough. "Could we just concentrate and get this over with?"
"Oh, Prowlie- you don't mean that!"
"I do. I have reports to fill in and-"
The short mech had a different view. "Y'want t'spend alone-time with your Jazz an' your sparkling!"
Megatron considered sneaking away, but a sudden burning on the side of his helm caused him to turn- and see Ratchet giving him filthy evilles.
Optimus crossed his arms thoughtfully. "So, Megatron?"
"...To the roof."
By the time the band of mechs had reached the lift- a monstrous, transparent affair- Megatron was wondering if he should have considered some kind of lead. He then decided against it- beige didn't like heights anyway, so he doubted the Seeker would run off and jump.
Too bad.
Megatron himself might, though.
"Something they like, and something they do," he mused, snapping his guide shut.
The lift shot up towards the roof. Jazz, clinging onto Prowl's arm, looked down, whooping at the sight of the ground shooting away from them at a blinding speed. Prowl couldn't escape, but looked in the opposite direction in an admirably dignified manner, especially considering the black sparking was yowling in glee.
Ironhide was muttering to himself, cannons revolving. "This is a perfect moment for a strike. There'd be practically no escape routes, defences laughable, termination: highly probable."
Optimus started looking around nervously. "I don't think anyone's going to attack us, 'hide."
"We should not have taken the elevator," the black mech fumed. "The stairs, at least!"
"...It would have taken six breems to ascend to the roof," Prowl informed them frostily. "Far too long. Besides, this lift has far superior protection due to being strongly built to carry weight, and additionally was designed with possible attack in processor. The stairs only have the walls for fortification."
"Do not run off," Megatron warned the beige Seeker as the elevator slowed. It jumped onto his shoulder with a screechy yap.
Optimus was first out onto the vast surface, watching his sparkling with a frown as they ventured onto the roof. He pointed at the horizon, where dimly seen buildings were radiantly aglow. "Behold, blue; Iacon."
"Hold onto the black one," Megatron advised.
Jazz bounced around a weary Prowl, practically singing. "We have t'look f'something our sparkling has interest in, Prowlie!"
"Yes, Jazz. Except we don't have a sparkling."
"How could y'say that? Deny his heritage like that-! He's hurt!"
The sparkling giggled, glancing between them both.
"Any ideas, Megsy?" Jazz bounded in his direction.
"I don't need ideas- beige is what he is, and beige is what he does."
"He'll give beige a proper name," Optimus concluded quietly to Ironhide.
"I wouldn't be so sure; he's fairly adamant."
"He will." Prime eyed their sparkling. "So, blue. What do you like?"
"Booming things," Megatron replied for him, sitting down on the edge of the roof with his legs dangling over the side. Clinging onto his shoulder nervously, the beige Seeker peered once at the softly glowing landscape beneath them- the buildings gently illuminated by ethereal, internal light- and hid behind some of his armour. "What are you doing, prat?"
"Booming?" Ironhide asked suspiciously. "Will he attack-"
"It's his freaky ability. And it's almost as annoying as his VOP."
Jazz clasped his hands. "Prowlie, our baby VOPs! ...What is a VOP?"
"Put him down at your peril."
A buzz trembled forth as the energy barrier around the roof activated, flicking into white existence and then fading, a soft humming the only sign it was still there. Having sent the electronic command, Ironhide stood smugly. "Nobody's falling off on my watch."
There was silence for a small while as they watched the far-off sun descend from the sky, vanishing behind Iacon's distantly shimmering buildings; structures taller than imagination could dictate.
A sudden thought made its way through Optimus' processor. "...Weather."
"What of it?"
"Simulators!" the Prime cried gleefully. "Ironhide, we're the weather-mechs! Let's roll, let's roll!"
Megatron prayed that Optimus would drop the 'roll' imperatives. They just weren't dignified. Hopefully it was just a stage in his relatively juvenile life.
"Careful!" Ironhide was warning, hurrying after his charge. "Don't trip-!"
"In a lift?"
"You could smash through-"
"An energy wall?"
The discussion ended as they disappeared from view, but another was quick to begin.
Prowl was disgruntled. "Weather was a good starting point."
"We're better than them, Prowlie. For us, the sky's th'limit!"
"Hm. Technically untrue."
"Metaphorically!"
"Incorrect, Jazz. We could easily pass Cybertron's sky and enter space."
"You there," Jazz demanded, grabbing the sparkling. "What d'you think?"
The confused Seeker warbled at him helpfully.
"Th'sky," the silver mech persisted, jabbing at it. The black mechling looked up, then howled excitedly, flailing to be freed-
"Do not let him go," Megatron repeated, now lying on his back.
"D'you like it?" Jazz questioned the Seeker- who burbled at him expressively with arms wiggling wildly.
"It looks like freedom," Prowl answered softly.
The Seeker squealed at them both- Jazz suddenly laughed delightedly and pulled Prowl into the lift. "Inspiration!"
A stunned tactician had no time to even twitch, let alone respond.
Megatron was left contemplating the sky. "You don't need a name, do you?" The sparkling nudged his way under his arm as he continued. "You'll be going back to your parents before too long."
Unnoticed, the Seeker's wing nubs drooped slightly.
"And they know you better than I do, so they can give you the best name poss-" he paused, a message from Optimus arriving- flagged with such high importance he immediately accessed it.
You, Megatron. I know what's you're doing; I see you. Stop it. You're an aft- hurry up and consider choosing a name before he's stuck with 'beige' forever. What a bully you are. Could you leave anybody stuck with such a designation? It will do neither of you any harm. This is the start of a beautiful relationship, so get on with it before I order Ratchet to check you for processor malfunction.
Megatron scowled affectionately. The cheeky-
Another message: I will do it.
With a long-suffering sigh, Megatron turned to the sparkling, who was beholding him with huge optics. "Go away."
The Seeker whined, clambering his way onto the mech's chassis- and was promptly pushed back.
"If you claw my face, you will die. I will throw you off of this roof and watch you howl in terror as you plunge to your... no, you'd disturb everybody again."
The beige creature shrieked, then carefully snuggled onto his back between Megatron's arm and side.
"Watch your wings," the silver Cybertronian told him absentmindedly.
As if reminding him that he wasn't that idiotic so as to lie on them, the sparkling clicked and contentedly nibbled some of Megatron's armour.
"Perhaps you should be called Bitefiend- stop your gnawing!"
He flicked the Seeker's helm away- there was a hiss before the attack was redoubled. Eventually the mech gave up and led with optics closed, trying to ignore the high-pitched growling and gentle tugging of eager jaws attempting to rip him apart.
Much time passed before Megatron suddenly realised there was no sound and no movement: the beast could be recharging. He hopefully opened one optic- the Seeker was still attached to his arm, but was gazing up at the sky. "What are you looking at?"
The Seeker sucked on the armour in his mouth in response.
"Well, that's nice," Megatron replied, turning his own optics to the darkening sky. "Tell me, beige: found anything you like yet?"
A longer suck.
"Keep on looking. I'm sure something interesting will come about- like Jazz, flying through the air, or Ratchet dropping a satisfying distance to the ground-" he paused with a growl. "This is useless! You don't even like heights. Are you actually a Seeker, or an imposter? A wannabe?"
The sparkling shrieked and Megatron felt its wing nubs twitch against his arm.
"I'm not saying you don't have wings. Listen, you twerp. Why don't you listen? I'm saying that you're a failure. Your cronies are going to get their names and they'll be fine. You, on the other hand, will just fail at life-"
An indignant screech nearly deafened him.
"Could call you Screechy. That would do. Beigescreech. I like it. How about Failwail, or Failscreech?"
The sparkling looked excited.
"...No. It has to be something as- as... well, what are you? What do you do apart from make noise? Are you intelligent? Stupid? Agile? Clumsy? Strong? Puny?"
The Seeker nodded enthusiastically to each of them, causing Megatron to sigh and try to recharge. After a few astroseconds, a yowl put an end to this- clearly, the sparkling's limited ability to sit still and not have all attention on him had expired. He sprang onto Megatron's face and attempted to eat one of his optics.
"You have issues," Megatron raged, plucking him off and tossing him away. "Why would you do that? Go back to that chasm from whence you came!"
A blissful pause, then a soft nudge at his arm.
"Get lost. When you find something you like, try and find your way back. Into Pit."
The Seeker wailed and scrabbled at him frantically.
"Go away, beige failure!"
Silence was gifted to the scene. Then- quietly, gently- the sparkling climbed back to nestle on his arm.
Megatron sighed as it whined and clawed at him once. "What now?"
It sprang onto his chassis and loomed over his face, tiny talons using his chin as a balance. There was a squawk.
"I don't speak turbochicken," the mech complained before narrowing his optics. "Get off of my face."
The sparkling ignored him, and attempted to climb onto it.
Megatron watched the oddly jointed legs scrabble to try and find some kind of grip on his face in something akin to fascination. "You are so bizarre."
A sharp talon on one of the mechling's feet scratched him accidentally- well, he assumed it was accidentally. He huffed, prepared to let it pass, but then a dewclaw hooked itself under his cheek armour, yanking harshly on delicate, softer plating as the Seeker tugged it. With a growl, Megatron plucked him into the air and whilst eyeing him authoritatively, jabbed his face in deserved punishment.
As it snapped back at him, Megatron obliviously frowned, instead scratching gently at a mark on his forehelm. The mechling screeched at him and grabbed the claw.
"You have a stain," he complained. "I only want to rub it off."
There was a shriek of dismay as the mech continued his relentless assault, pinning him down for a more thorough attack.
"Your hygiene is despicable! It doesn't come off-!" he explained, scratching more firmly- to which the sparkling yowled, wriggling. "Is it a parasite? Is- is it stuck to you? Ratchet will deal with it," Megatron promised as he strode back to the lift, Seeker in hand.
The mechling shrieked horrendously as they entered the elevator, and continued to do so for the entire descent to the ground floor. Megatron was unsure of whether he'd already learnt to recognise the name Ratchet or had seen how high up they were through the transparent wall.
"Be quiet, will you?" he demanded as they exited the lift. "I'll mute my audios on you presently. See how you like that, eh?" The Seeker wailed as he attacked the mark again. "...You are such a sparkling."
The building being incredibly large, it took another couple of minutes to reach the medbay- minutes in which the sparkling managed to calm down. He might not have done so by himself, but Megatron attracted his attention to some shoulder armour by wiggling it slightly. It was soon attended to in a sucky, nibbly fashion. Nice.
As they entered the medbay, Megatron noted that nobody else was there: clearly no names had been thought of yet.
Ratchet was not best pleased to see them back so early. "Sedation?" he asked, already unsubspacing a needle.
"No, no." Megatron threw the Seeker at him.
Ratchet almost let the howling sparkling hit the floor before catching him. "What now?"
"He's got something filthy on him, and I demand it off."
"OCD much?" Ratchet inspected the mechling with a frown. "What filth? He's not filthy."
"Can't you see it? That tiny and pale odd-looking thing?" Megatron advanced within poking range and prodded the sparkling's forehelm as he cringed away into Ratchet.
The medic didn't even give it a glance. "That's a mark, you fool. It can't be helped."
"...Obviously it's a mark-"
"He was sparked with it." Ratchet thrust the Seeker back at him. "Almost unnoticeable, you anal-retentive."
Megatron scowled. "Beige, you're useless to the point of failing to be entirely beige!" The sparkling clung to his arm miserably, and he felt a little sorrowful. "I won't hate you for it."
Ratchet's fingers twitched. "I suppose you've thought of his name, eh."
"...Nooooo." Megatron started backing away warily.
"Then I suggest you leave and put some work into it."
The silver mech hurriedly made a tactical retreat, striding down the corridors once again with only one purpose: looking busy. The sparkling bit him, struggling out of his grasp, then climbed onto his shoulder. Megatron prepared to swat away an attack on his face, but the Seeker shuffled once before crouching on said shoulder, quite contented.
"Do you have enough balance?" Megatron asked. "I don't want you to fall; you might scratch at my armour."
Tiny talons readjusted themselves slightly, followed by a shriek.
The mech snarled as his senses clamoured in alarm. "Not in my audio receptors!"
A wail preceded the sparkling trembling.
"Stop shaking," Megatron ordered, but it squawked in indignant denial. "You realise that you're touching me? I can feel it."
In a clear display of self-control, the Seeker stilled his disloyal limbs and then yapped proudly.
"You're nothing special," Megatron told him. "Anybody can do that."
He wandered to the first floor down the empty corridors, somewhat glad that they were indeed empty. Having anybody see him address a sparkling perched on his shoulder –which was not the most dignified or respectable occurrence- was frankly an undesirable notion. As he passed the rec. room, he considered hiding out in there. It seemed like a good place to pretend to be thinking of a designation, so he activated the door-
Then hurriedly whirled back and continued down the corridor. Hopefully-
Jazz thrust himself in front of them, black sparkling in his arms. "So? His name?"
Megatron sighed. Apparently he had been spotted. "Beige."
The saboteur wasn't impressed, even as his Seeker reached towards the beige with a burble. "Did you waste any time on name-spawning?"
"No." Megatron was pleased that the beige sparkling ignored the other loftily.
"Did you do anything?"
"Went on a pointless excursion to see Ratchet."
"Why?" Prowl, exiting the rec. room in search of his disappearing (and forced) partner was intrigued. "I didn't think anybody was that deranged."
"I thought he had a problem with his helm, but he's just an oddly-coloured freak."
Jazz caught sight of the mark and practically burst, snatching the Seeker with his free hand and giving him a kiss. "You're so adorable!"
"Don't do that," Prowl monotoned really enthusiastically. "Our sparkling will get upset."
Jazz gave the beige mechling a squeeze whilst balancing the other dangerously. "I want a star too!"
Megatron was nonplussed. "Beige is in no way a star."
"He has one," Jazz explained, pointing enthusiastically (and awkwardly, due to holding the black sparkling in the same hand) at the Seeker's helm. "That's what th'marking is called!"
"It looks nothing like a star." Prowl couldn't cope with such inaccuracy, his optics flickering.
Jazz hurriedly amended this. "Not a star shape, but more of a realistic interpretation- y'see, Prowlie? It's slightly rounded and yet uneven."
Prowl recovered with a grateful sigh. "Thank you, Jazz."
"It's a pale mark on his helm, and that's what it's called," the font of colouring-knowledge continued, blowing a raspberry on it.
The Seeker, thrilled with such attention, shrieked and tried to bite him excitedly.
"Who's a cute little star? You are!" Jazz enthused back, ticking his abdominal plating to hysterical howls.
Megatron took him back. "That's enough of your retarded influence."
"Better retarded than boring!" Jazz winked at him. "Want y'star back, eh? Jealous, were you? Eh?"
"No!"
"Megsy's little star?" the other mech teased remorselessly.
"Would you like to retain your legs? You wouldn't even be short then," Megatron threatened.
The Seeker laughed as Jazz speedily dived behind Prowl.
"Protect me, Prowlie!"
"No."
"But our sparkling needs both of us!" Jazz wailed, clinging onto him. "Let's please go!"
"And grow," Megatron snarled viciously.
"He could have been a star," Jazz lamented dramatically, making a sharp exit. "His shrieks could have filled the Universe!"
Prowl was definitely smiling as they disappeared.
Beige squawked sulkily.
"You don't need so much attention, beige. It is unhealthy."
Ratchet's voice burst through his comm. "This is an immediate recall for Seekers beige, blue and black and their idiots."
"At last."
There was an anguished howl from down the corridor as Jazz responded to the news. "My baby!"
Beige nibbled contentedly on Megatron's armour as they headed back to the medbay.
Prime and Ironhide were already there, both smugly glancing at the blue Seeker. He looked rather pleased with himself.
"The conceit in this room is suffocating," Megatron commented.
"Peh," Ironhide snorted. "Wait until Ratchet comes back. He's convinced that you haven't found a name for beige and that he gets to beat you with his new wre-"
"There's been worse," Megatron dismissed.
"-his new wrench collection," Ironhide finished. "Complete with other instruments."
"No," Optimus frowned. "That wasn't the terminology he used. Wasn't it... test his new instruments?"
Megatron was slightly unnerved. "Test? No hitting?"
"It'll undoubtedly be more painful," Prime murmured heroically, then raised a fiery blue gaze into the middle-distance. "I'll take this one for you, brother- your pain is my pain."
Ironhide stood up dramatically, cannons whirling. "No! If you try it, I'll take your place!"
Glancing at the beige Seeker (who was still gnawing on his shoulder armour), Megatron sighed. "See what I have to deal with? All the time."
/I thought you said he'd have a name?/ Ironhide asked Optimus privately.
/He does, I know it. I just wanted to sound noble. Did I sound noble?/
Ironhide nodded emphatically as Megatron interrupted. "Did you get a name for blue?"
"Of course."
"Medic's pet."
"Bully."
"So?" Megatron shot back.
"Thundercracker," Optimus announced firmly, brandishing the Seeker.
"...Are you serious?"
"I am."
Team Thundercracker clearly didn't quite agree. Ironhide sighed heavily. "Could he have a more pompous name? Four syllables long-? Come on, Optimus."
"No." Prime was resolute. "That's his name, and he likes it."
The newly christened Thundercracker gave a rare squawk.
Suddenly, the beige Seeker dived off of Megatron and shot out of the door.
"BEIGE!" the mech roared, slamming a claw into the automatic close function before chasing after him. "What the frag-!"
Ironhide smacked a hand into his own face as the door smoothly shut. "Please be joking, Prime."
"Not in the slightest, and there's nothing you can do about it."
"But-" Ironhide tried to think of disadvantages of the name. "What about when he's needed urgently? We can't go around shouting THUNDERCRACKER repeatedly!"
"Oh?" Optimus raised an optic ridge.
"No!"
Before this could be further disputed, there was a VOP from outside.
Ironhide strode to the door, cannons fully active. "Announce yourself!"
Jazz and Prowl were at the door, black Seeker burbling and drooling over Prowl's helm.
Prowl had a blank, vacant look on his faceplates. Ironhide recognised it immediately as Denial.
Optimus glared at the sparkling. "You decided on a name?"
"Sure did," Jazz beamed. "And damn, it's better than the one you've come up with."
"How do you know?" Ironhide was displeased by the presumption.
"...Because I'm Jazz, and this is Prowlie- Jazz plus Prowlie is equal to an unbeatable combination!" The saboteur bounded into the room, and pointed at Optimus. "C'mon—out with it. What d'you call him?"
Ironhide attempted to smother the red and blue mech, but this was decidedly useless, what with Prime having a facemask and all.
"Thundercracker," Optimus informed, completely at ease with Ironhide gripping his lower face.
"No," the black warrior hurriedly amended, trying to look as if the face-grabbing had some kind of purpose and turning it into a hearty, friendly mech-slap on the mask. "He's not. It- it just isn't a suitable name. It's far too long. He can't be called Thundercracker."
Jazz disagreed. "I think y'could g-."
"Jazz, no! Not you too," Prowl groaned. "You know that Thundercracker is too long a name."
"Ah, and y'think y'know that I know that Thundercracker is too long a name?"
"You know that I think you know that we both think Thundercracker is too long a name."
"But how can y'be sure that y'think y'know that I know that y'know that I know Thundercracker is too long a name?"
"I just know that you know that I know that you know that I know and we both know Thundercracker is too long a name."
"Y'can't be sure! How do y'know-"
Ironhide sighed over the continuing debate. "...I've lost it."
Optimus frowned in concentration as he tried to keep up. "I've still got them-! Oh, no. Gone."
"Too many knows," Ironhide huffed. "He's never going to learn that name."
"He will," Prime assured.
"But how do you know-" the black mech stopped himself. "I'm not going down that route."
The sparkling was busy watching Jazz and Prowl battle on. They were speaking so fast that Optimus wasn't even sure if they understood what they were saying.
"We should move away from them before our processors overload," he suggested.
Ironhide's cannons powered up. "I'll obliterate them before-" There was a shriek from down the corridor, and the cannons instantly shot to point at the door. "Be still," Ironhide shouted, moving slowly towards it.
The blue Seeker watched him, puzzled.
"It's fine," Optimus reassured. "Ironhide's just... wait, what are you doing?"
"Announce yourself!" the black mech ordered.
The door opened a fraction and he fired immediately, blasting it shut again.
Jazz and Prowl hesitated in their epic altercation. "Y'alright, 'hide?"
"There's an intruder," Ironhide hissed, cannons swivelling as he charged towards the door.
"Wait! What if it's a sparkling?" Prowl suggested hurriedly, causing the other mech to pause.
"Thundercracker, go-!" Optimus enthused.
The blue Seeker blinked apathetically, so Jazz picked him up and threw him at the door. "GO!"
Prime dived forwards and managed to catch the sparkling before he smashed into it. "Jazz-!"
"That's me!"
"Yes, obviously- what in the name of Primus were you trying to do-!"
"I was sending Thundercracker t'see off the intruder," Jazz explained. "Can I do it again?"
Prowl's fingers rippled through the air. "I believe abusing sparklings is an offence. What would you say, Jazz?"
"Definitely," the small mech agreed. "The low-life that would- oh, man."
Prowl actually laughed as he grabbed the back of Jazz's neck. "To the brig. At last-!"
"Don't open the door!" Ironhide bellowed, but it was too late- Prowl had already activated the door, which slid to the side and revealed the beige Seeker, who glared at the black mech before darting inside.
"Beige!" Optimus cried in delight.
The fact a cannon was trained on him was not lost on the Seeker as he skidded behind Optimus.
"One move, beige," Ironhide whispered threateningly.
The sparkling glared at him before springing up onto Optimus' back.
Prime attempted to turn his helm to look, but failed miserably. "What is he doing?"
"Stay still," Ironhide growled, cannons powering up. "I'll rid you of him-"
There was the sound of another cannon charging- he whipped round to tackle the larger threat.
Megatron was standing in the doorway, fusion cannon pointing at him and looking highly displeased. "Weapons down, Ironhide."
"Your weapons down."
"No."
"You are a threat to my charge," Ironhide enunciated clearly, "and I will not lower my weapons until you do."
"Ironhide," Megatron growled in exasperation, "you were the one pointing your cannons at Optimus."
"Lies! I was pointing my cannons at the wretch!"
The silver mech snarled. "Did you just call my brother a wretch?"
Sensing this could get nasty, Optimus hurriedly interjected. "The wretch is on my back, hiding."
Megatron ran this through his processor several times. "Oho, so that's where he is."
Prime felt something nudge its way between two pieces of his armour. Before managing to work out what it was, sharp jaws clamped on some wires and tugged viciously.
Megatron watched Optimus shriek for a moment before working out what had happened. "Beige! Come here!"
There was a pause before the Seeker dropped to the floor (leaving a twitching Optimus and a hysterical Ironhide shouting about diseases) and scurried to him.
Megatron eyed him disapprovingly. "You are not to run off."
The sparkling pouted.
"And you bit Optimus, didn't you?"
The Seeker blinked at him, clueless.
Megatron picked him up by the scruff and pointed in the direction of Optimus now attempting to divert a vengeful Ironhide. "If you hurt him again, you are going back on the street. Kicked out, alone."
Clearly understanding this, the beige mechling whined, wing nubs drooping slightly.
"Go and apologise," Megatron ordered. "I realise you can't speak, but this is no excuse. Go and do it."
After considering this, the mech decided to carry him over- a lone beige heading for Optimus might provoke an explosive response.
The Seeker wriggled, demanding to be put down, but Megatron was firm. Besides, Ironhide's optics were bulging as it was. Shrieking, the sparkling continued squirming, glaring at Megatron as though he was trying to convey something. Sadly, Megatron a) couldn't understand what he was trying to convey, and b) didn't really care.
"Apologise."
After one last wiggle and screech, he stopped, then lowered his helm and wing nubs miserably.
Prime was distressed. "Leave him alone, Megatron- you tyrant."
"I'm teaching him manners, so be quiet."
"No! He doesn't have to apologise- freedom is the ri-"
"I sincerely hope this is just a phase you're going through," Megatron said menacingly. "I've had enough of rolling and quite enough of your freedom spouts."
"But-"
"Enough."
Optimus' antennae twitched dejectedly. "Yes, Megatron."
The sparkling raised his optics slightly and piercingly squealed at him.
"I accept your apology," Prime replied dismally.
Megatron dropped him in disgust, and Optimus watched in further confusion as the Seeker bounced over and hurled himself on his front by the mech's feet with further wailings and a hideous shriek that sounded like he was in agony.
The other Seekers in the room were most surprised by this, the blue raising an optic ridge.
The black VOPped over and giggled delightedly, then attempted to bite one of beige's wings.
A frenzied and violent response most furious ended with the black himself quivering on his own front, wings flattened. The beige hissed at him, baring his tiny fangs. The black refused to look him in the optics, but squealed loudly.
He was ignored as the beige returned to Optimus and led on his front again with a pitiful cry.
Prime was very distressed. "Megatron, what do I do?"
"I don't know."
Jazz, ever observant, offered a hypothesis. "Looks like a Seeker apology. See how our baby-" he glanced at Prowl adoringly- "See how our baby was cruelly beaten down by beige? He's doing th'same thing."
"So how do I accept it?" Optimus wailed.
"No idea," the silver saboteur shrugged.
Prime gingerly bent down and gently stroked his wing nubs. "It's all right, beige." This was clearly an adequate idea- the Seeker purred quietly and lightly nibbled his hand. "...Nice, biting beige."
Megatron was more pleased by the 'beating down' of the other sparkling. "Beige is clearly superior. Maybe he's not so useless."
The Seeker's audio receptors perked slightly, and he was about to dash back to Megatron when he caught sight of the wretched-looking black sparkling, still cowering on his front. With a hiss, he cuffed the other around the helm and shrieked at him in vicious-sounding Seeker. The black wailed back but remained on his abdomen, cringing.
"I can't watch, Prowlie! Hold me!" Jazz howled, hurling himself into the poor tactician.
"There's nothing we can do," Prowl shook his helm sadly. "This is his rank. His calling."
"His calling in life is to be attacked by beige?" Jazz wailed.
Megatron laughed. "That makes him even more of a failure than beige."
The blue sparkling watched fairly impassively from Ironhide's back.
Optimus sighed. "Don't you care, Thundercracker?"
"This is life, Prime!" Ironhide narrowed his optics in approval. "This is life. You're going to be beaten, humiliated, tested-! But what are you not going to do?"
"...Lie on my abdomen and wail?"
"A fine answer."
The beige Seeker was now circling the other, snarling now and again almost as if provoking him. Once or twice he darted in and slashed at the black, who merely trembled and looked down at the floor with occasional whimpers. Finally, it seemed that the beige was satisfied with this display- he practically sat on top of the other and savagely bit his wings.
The black Seeker yowled, his face contorted in agony.
Megatron decided to intervene and snapped his claws. "Beige, enough. Come here."
He mauled the black for another moment or two, then cuffed him again with a hiss before bounding onto Megatron's shoulder and flicking his wing nubs.
"Clever beige," the mech murmured, giving them a stroke. "Clever beige."
"Well-!" Optimus tried to sound light and breezy as Jazz howled, dropped to his knees beside the black sparkling, and cuddled him desperately. "So-"
"Don't die, my darling!" he wailed.
The black sparkling choked.
Prowl heaved in a juddering sigh. "Jazz, you're squeezing his neck."
The silver mech whipped around, visor flashing. "Are y'saying I'd try and kill my baby, Prowlie?"
"No. He just can't ventilate."
Rising to his feet smoothly, Jazz guiltily held the Seeker at arm's length for inspection. "Will you live?"
It coughed once, then gurgled, flicking its small wings experimentally and giving a slight wince.
"Beige has disabled our sparkling! This- this is what happens when y'don't have loving creators," Jazz shook a fist at Megatron. "See, Prowlie and I provide stable, caring and inspirational role-models. But you, look at you! You're a bad influence, single parent! Y'clearly can't handle this menace alone! Curse you, Megatron! And- and curse your beige!"
Prowl pulled him back, internally cringing. "He's fine. Beige wouldn't injure him severely. It was just discipline."
"What gives beige the right to discipline? He's-"
"So, Jazz," Optimus tactfully stepped in. "What's your black called?"
Jazz beamed at Prowl before replying. "This is Skywarp."
"Thundercracker is better," Prime disputed.
"They can't all be called Thundercracker," Prowl reminded.
"They can," Megatron shrugged. "Thundercracker #1, Thundercracker #2, Th-"
Prowl had another solution. "Or Thund, Ercrack and Er."
Jazz shook his helm sadly. "Er and Ercrack might get confused."
"Ahhhh- well, maybe Skywarp will do," Optimus sighed. "Megsy?"
"Is not my name."
"...Megs?"
"Do I call you 'Tim' or 'Pottymus'? No, I don't."
Prowl fritzed, crumpling to the floor.
"Ha, Pottymus Prime," Jazz grinned.
Optimus whipped round and pointed a finger menacingly. "No."
The saboteur paled. "Yessir!"
Jazz might have actually listened to him anyway, but behind the Prime stood a mech mirroring the pointing. With a cannon.
Optimus turned back to Megatron with a dignified sniff. "...Lord High Protector Megatron; my glorious, wise brother and highly undervalued friend: will you bequeath unto me the honour of the acquaintance of the name of the sparkling more recently known as 'Beige'?"
Megatron seemed to think for a moment. "Alright, I'll tell you. It's so secret, I'll spell it out: put together the letters b, e, i, g and e."
Prime considered this, then scowled. "You can't call him beige."
"I'm not calling him anything. How many times-! He's not mine to name."
"But he follows you around like- like a turbopuppy!"
Megatron exchanged a glance with the Seeker, who twitched an optic ridge.
The door suddenly slid open, and Ratchet paced in smugly, eyeing them all as if they were body parts to harvest. "Soo-oo... Who wants to speak first?"
"Skywarp," Jazz offered before anybody else could even process Ratchet's question/unspoken threat.
"...Thundercracker?" Optimus proposed after a glance at Ironhide who sighed, relenting.
Ratchet eyed Megatron with all the distrust and disapproval he could be bothered to let drift to the surface. "And you?"
"He didn't think of a name!" Jazz blurted, clearly determined to have him suffer.
"Beige-" Megatron felt optics blister into him as Ratchet seethed.
"I told you to think of a name."
"And I already had."
"You are not calling him beige. Do you want him to be ridiculed?"
"Are you offering?"
Ratchet snarled at Megatron, who became a little concerned for his survival.
Optimus, who was watching him suspiciously, messaged Ironhide digitally. /He's already got one./
/He's doing a fine job of saving his own aft then./
There was always a miniscule pause before Ratchet exploded- and it was in this Megatron addressed the Seeker sorrowfully. "You're going to be ridiculed anyway, so I may as well call you Starscream."
Jazz laughed. "Oh, they're going to ask why he's called that."
Megatron gave him a withering look. "At least he'll attract femmes."
Prime clenched a fist. "You owe me those credits, 'hide."
"You shouldn't be betting," Ironhide hurriedly rebuffed before Ratchet's attentions were painfully diverted. "I cannot give you them!"
"Dishonourable-"
Ratchet kicked Megatron. "You fool!"
"I gave him a designation," the silver mech complained. "What's your problem?"
"You!"
The beige sparkling squawked loudly.
"See? He's thrilled to have another name."
After recovering from his short-lived sulk that Megatron (seemingly) wasn't going to be vaporised, Jazz jiggled on the spot. "So we have Skywarp, Insert-long-name-here and beige?"
"Thundercracker," Optimus scowled.
Ironhide's rumbling cannons backed the name up.
Megatron seemed perfectly content. "Beige is fine by me."
"Beige is not fine. Starscream it is," Ratchet concluded.
Prime sighed happily. "Aren't we all just a big, joyous family?"
Jazz was the only one who looked excited by this idea. "Y'bet we are!"
"...We will be," Optimus assured in a suddenly firm and authorative manner. "We will be."
"How did you come up with Thundercracker?" Prowl asked thoughtfully.
"We-ll," Ironhide began slowly, "that's a rather painful story."
:3 I honestly could have continued this chapter, but I didn't want it to get too long. I hope you enjoyed! Please leave any comments like 'LAUGHABLY UNIMAGINATIVE' in a review. :D
Oh, and that's another thing. If you do leave a review, please help me out. I've been told, rather firmly ;D, that I should be a Beta reader. Would you entrust your stories with me? 8D
I really hope this has given you a break from work/school. We all deserve it. :D Gahhh, exam results on Thursday. Good luck to anybody getting theirs too!
Next time, amongst other things, we discover how Thundercracker came about! ...Well, his name. Not his actual self. That's another story, and not one I'm going to write. ;D All I say is that Optimus unintentionally gets his revenge back on Ironhide for being impaled by his own swords back in Chapter TWO.
See you THEN!
