Chapter 4
To say that Prowl was angry when his three students had returned was a grave understatement. Not only did he force them to clean all three MARB rovers inside and out, with toothbrushes special ordered from earth of all things, but they were all slighted to clean the dormitories, or barracks as Prowl tended to call them, for the next four months. Wing Dagger had tried to convince the salty old veteran that he was the only one deserving of blame, but Prowl had learned a long time ago to mute out most of the young bot's excuses. So there they were, Wing Dagger, Padlock, and Quicksilver, all mopping and moping as they cleaned down the recharging quarters.
"Now I regret putting that kerosene in Gridlock's oil." mumbled Padlock as he scrubbed down a particularly messy recharge slab. "I mean, who knew that he leaked during recharge? I thought that only happened during the first few cycles after one's ignition day."
"He doesn't really like to talk about it." Wing Dagger said from the other side of the slab. "I hear he can only drink specially blended oil. Strangely, the fossil fuels of earth don't affect him that badly. I think that's why he wants to join the Earth Defense Force. The health benefits would be perfect for him."
"Well it's certainly not doing us any favors." Padlock mumbled.
Quicksilver zipped through the area with a mop with lightning speed. Of the three of them, she seemed to be the only one enjoying herself. As she skidded to a stop, she paused for a moment to admire her work.
"This takes me back to my childhood." she said with a dreamy look. "Back when I used to live in the abbey, I would clean up the meeting hall with my sisters, and we always raced to see who could get their part done the quickest. I was always the champ, you know."
"Riveting." Padlock grumbled under his breath. He bent down to dunk his cleaning tool in more cleansing fluid, but he stopped short at the sight of how black the liquid had become.
"I swear, I'm gonna knock Gridlock out for this! We're gonna be spending all week on this one recharge slab."
He got up, gathered up his bucket, and then started his way for the door.
"Be back in a bit, guys. I need to get more cleaning fluid."
He opened the door and started out. Suddenly, he slammed into something, followed by the sound of a loud splash. Padlock stumbled backwards, and he gagged. The obstruction he had ran into was Ore, one of the two monoformer twins. Ore was a bit light on brains, but he was big on muscle, in spite of his smaller than average size. What's more, both he and Shock were well known for their sharp bursts of anger, and neither one was ever far from the other. Before he could even attempt to explain himself, Ore snatched him up and then yanked him into the hall, slamming the door behind him. Wing Dagger and Quicksilver exchanged horrified glances, and then they bolted for the door after their friend.
Ore slammed Padlock hard into a wall. True to form, Shock was right there with him, and neither one looked particularly happy.
"My brother here says that you's splashed him with some disgusting substance of the soiled cleaning kind."
Padlock couldn't, in spite of himself, resist an eyeroll. Shock was a total blowhard, and he always tried to speak with a forced accent to make himself sound tough. In truth, it never worked.
"Look, Shock," he said, his tone calm and even. "As I was trying to tell Ore…"
"Oh, you's was trying to explain something!" Shock interjected, cutting Padlock off. "You's hear that, Ore? Dis here transformer thinks he has to explain things to you. He thinks you's ain't smart enough to understand."
Ore snarled as he tightened his grip on Padlock. Padlock gulped.
"Now, take it easy, you two!" he said quickly. "I know you're a bit sensitive about being monoformers and all, but…"
"Oh ho ho! So that's it!" Shock snapped while pointing an accusing finger at Padlock. "You's think you's is better than us! Oh, everybody look at the great and wonderful Padlock! He can transform into a truck, but me and mine poor brother are stuck as dull, boring robots!"
Padlock shriveled up on his spot on the wall, and he gulped. He had a strong feeling that nothing he said at this point was going to save him. Ore tossed him aside and onto the floor, and then he took his place next to his brother.
"You's think you's is so special, don'cha?" Shock said with a sneer. "Well mine and mine brother don' think you's is all that. In fact, I think that we's should teach you's a thing or two about us monoformers. Specifically, we are stronger together!"
Padlock could only watch with mounting terror as the two brothers combined into one giant form, easily towering over him with fists big enough to tear a hole through his chest.
"Who was the idiot that told these guys about the enigma of combination?" Padlock groaned.
Without another moment's hesitation, Padlock shifted into vehicle mode and started to burn rubber down the hall. OreShock, as the combined duo was usually called, bellowed with a mad cry, and he then went stomping down the hall after his prey. Padlock didn't have a clue where he was going, but at this point he didn't care. He knew that the instant he stopped, OreShock would be on him like the dinobots on cesium salami. He made a pass through the armory, the firing range, the training yard, and he was now coming upon the mess hall. He smashed through the door and past a confused Gridlock, whom dropped a freshly poured tankard of oil.
"You'll thank me for that later!" Padlock called back to him.
OreShock then smashed into the room, knocking Gridlock a winding. He continued to chase Padlock around the mess hall, knocking aside tables and energon cubes in all directions. Padlock then swerved around another table, putting on an extra burst of speed in the hopes of finally breaking free. Unfortunately, his hopes were dashed when he struck Gridlock's spilled oil. He lost traction, and he then went sailing through the air before crashing into a wall. He transformed back into robot mode and slowly rose back to feet. This provided enough of an opening for Oreshock to close the gap and grab Padlock by the chest plate. Padlock struggled and thrashed and he did everything he could think of to escape, but OreShock's grip remained strong.
"Come on, guys!" he grunted feebly. "Can't we just talk this over like civilized cybertronians?"
OreShock raised one mighty fist, and he lined it up directly with Padlock's face.
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
Padlock switched off his optics, and he braced himself for what was sure to be a major world of hurt.
"Hey, glitch-head!"
Padlock's optics switched back on, and then he could see Wing Dagger-nice, friendly, never hurt a fly Wing Dagger-punching OreShock in the face as hard as he could. There came the sound of a crunch, and Wing Dagger backed away while clutching his hand.
"Ow! Ow! OW OW OW! Man, that stung!"
OreShock stared at him with an incredulous look, and then he snarled. He released Padlock, and he turned his full attention towards Wing Dagger. The red, white, and blue mech chuckled nervously.
"Wow, you look angry. You know, I find counting to ten to be a wonderful tactic when it comes to conquering anger."
OreShock snatched him up, and he pulled him close his face.
"Though I have heard from others that violence is a good stress reliever. Maybe we could go to the training yard and…"
OreShock roared, and then he raised Wing Dagger over his head.
"Or, you know, maybe not!"
With that, Wing Dagger went sailing through the air before crashing into a table. Its occupants scattered in all directions, but Wind Dagger himself before OreShock was upon him again. He grabbed Wing Dagger by a leg, and then he whipped him about, smashing him repeatedly into the ground before leaving him in a heap. OreShock then grabbed a nearby table, and he raised it over his head with the intent of finishing Wing Dagger off. Padlock scrambled to get back to his feet, and he tried to transform, only to be met with a sickening clunking sound. But he didn't care. He had to get over there. He had to help Dag.
Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and then the room fell deathly silent. All optics were on OreShock. The combiner slowly lowered the table, and he could see that a smoking hole now filled the center. From his spot on the floor, Wing Dagger did his best to look behind the large brute, and what he saw amazed him. Bright red with blue accents, smoke stacks positioned on his shoulders, a fierce gaze, and a really, really, big gun. There was no denying it, and yet it was too spectacular to believe. Wing Dagger just couldn't contain himself.
"OPTIMUS PRIME!"
Indeed, it was him! The mighty leader of the autoboots, with his signature blaster rifle clutched tightly in his outstretched fist, stood gallantly in the archway of the south commissary entrance. OreShock stood there wearing a stunned expression, and then they broke down back into their usual selves.
"Don' say nothin." Shock whispered to Ore. "You's just let me do all the talking."
Optimus Prime lowered his weapon and put it away, and then he started to stomp his way over to the two monoformers. He stopped just when he was a few feet away from Ore. The smaller transformer had to tilt his head far back to better see Optimus' face. The autobot leader leered down on him with his piercing blue optics, and he folded his arms across his chest.
"Explain."
It was one word. One simple, insignificant word. But it had the force of a black hole behind it, and it pulled Ore deeper into Optimus' eyes, as well as increased the pressure forming in his spark chamber.
"Well, you's see, sir," he began, his voice holding a tiny squeak. "Mine brother and I was merely perusing the hall all peaceful like. Then, from out of nowhere, this green know-it-all comes up and splashes my poor brother with the foul-smelling liquid you can still detect, unprovoked. We's was just getting back at him, is all, and then dis yutz decides to punch us in our respective face."
Optimus studied the two monoformers, and then he looked at Wing Dagger on the floor.
"Is this true?"
Wing Dagger grunted as he rose to a sitting position.
"Yes sir, it is." he said. "I did punch him in the face. Darn near broke my hand, too. But Padlock didn't splash Ore on purpose. He, our friend Quicksilver, and I were all cleaning the barracks, and Padlock was leaving to get more cleaning fluid. Ore was just walking into the room as Padlock was walking out."
Optimus hummed thoughtfully, and he looked back at Shock, whom was starting to look very humble.
"If that's the case," Optimus began, "then it seems to me that the two of you were jumping to conclusions."
Shock opened his mouth to say something, anything, in his defense, but nothing came out.
"Judging from your builds, I can tell that you are monoformers, yes?"
Both Ore and Shock nodded.
"I see. I'm aware that there is much scrutiny placed upon your kind. However, that does not permit you to bully your fellow cybertronians just because you feel insecure about yourselves. Violence only yields violence, young ones. You should both be ashamed of yourselves."
Shock seemed to shrivel up under Optimus' gaze, and Ore mumbled something akin to an apology.
"Now then," Optimus went on, "given that the two of you are responsible for this mess, I think it is only fair that you both are the ones to clean it up? Any arguments?"
Both Ore and Shock shook their heads.
"Good. On your way, then."
Ore and Shock turned about, muttered quick apologies to Wing Dagger and Padlock, and then they made their way out the door just as Quicksilver finally caught up. She had split up from Wing Dagger to grab Prowl, and they both gasped at the sight of the ruined commissary. Prowl's optics brightened to a blinding shade of Blue, and his usual stiff and mannerly posture had been replaced by a nervous twitching in his hands and wing-like doors. Already he was thinking over the possible suspects responsible for this unforgivable blemish upon his academy, as well as plotting out the necessary punishment, but he quickly tabled his rage when he spied Optimus helping a battered looking Wing Dagger to his feet. Ignoring Quicksilver who ran over to help Padlock, Prowl made his way over to his former commanding officer, offering a salute.
"Optimus, what an unexpected surprise. I knew that you would be coming down for an inspection, but I wasn't expecting you for another week." He tossed a quick glance around the destroyed commissary. "I am deeply sorry for the mess. I promise you that I'll find the ones responsible and…"
"That will not be necessary, old friend." Optimus cut in. "The situation has already been dealt with. The one's responsible were a pair of monoformers that allowed their tempers to get the better of them. Rung is waiting for me back at my ship. Maybe he can have a quick session with them before we have to leave."
He placed a hand on Wing Dagger's shoulder.
"In the meantime, this young lad and his friend over there could use some medical attention. If you have no objections, I would like to send them down to the medical ward. Ratchet is already down there restocking medical supplies."
Prowl shrugged.
"It's no skin off my nose. Quicksilver knows the way."
Optimus nodded, and then he looked to Wing Dagger, checking him over one last time.
"Are you able to get along on your own?"
Wing Dagger looked absolutely awestruck. Of all the cybertronians that have ever lived, Optimus Prime was his biggest hero. Simply meeting him, never mind being saved by him, was pretty much his biggest dream come true. Words were useless at this point, and so he nodded a weak nod. It was good enough for Optimus, and he let him on his way. Prowl watched as Quicksilver took him and Padlock onto her shoulders, and the three of them started off out the door.
"Thick as thieves, those three." Prowl said. "I'm not surprised that they were in the center of this cyclone of madness." He looked to Optimus. "What say we take this business to my office? It'll be a lot…cleaner there."
Optimus nodded his consent, and he started to follow after Prowl.
…
Prowl wasn't kidding when he said that his office was clean. It was reminiscent to an executive office one would find in an earth business. It had the standard desk in the center of the room, a file cabinet placed in the back corner of the room, a book shelf containing several different autopedia files on law enforcement and the art of warfare, and, for a finishing touch, a small, potted birch tree he had gotten from earth. Optimus wasn't quite sure how it was able to survive in such an arid climate, but he knew Prowl well enough to know that it had plenty of chances.
On one wall, Optimus spied the many medals and awards Prowl had earned during his many centuries of service, and in the middle of the wall was a picture of all of them. Optimus, Prowl, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, Wheeljack, the dinobots: they were all there in their crashed spaceship in the base of that old volcano. Optimus couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic. Of all the darkest hours the war had produced, Earth had provided many of the brightest and wonderful moments in all of their lives. Meeting the Spike and his family, forming an alliance with Earth, and ultimately putting an end to their war once and for all: just to name a few.
Prowl wheeled around his desk, and then he took a seat. He pressed one of the buttons that lined the tabletop, and a seat rose up from the floor in front of the desk.
"Have a seat, Prime, and let's chat."
Optimus did so. Prowl was smiling broadly, and he pressed another button, a cask of liquid energon and a couple of glasses rising from the top of the desk.
"I think you're gonna love what we've got going here." Prowl said as he poured Optimus a glass. "This energon, we found it right here, and it's one of the purest sources I've ever seen. I contacted Wreck-Gar last week, and a group of his Junkions will be coming down to survey the land. Plus, there's some bright stars around here in the academy. I see a lot of potential from these students, and it fills me with hope for the future of the autobots."
Optimus accepted his glass, and he stared down at it for a long moment. Prowl studied him carefully, and he noticed that the big bot was lost deep in thought. After well over forty million years of service under him, Prowl could tell that the Prime was carrying a burden of bad news. It unnerved him a bit.
A moment or so of pondering later, Optimus placed his glass back onto the desk, and he sighed.
"Prowl, I need to be honest with you. I didn't come here as a social visit, nor did I come here to hear about the possible assets this outpost could provide."
Prowl frowned. "What do you mean? Why else would you come?"
Optimus drummed his fingers on the desktop nervously, and he took a deep breath.
"I'm afraid we've received…complaints concerning this academy."
Prowl's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he leaned forward as he fixed Optimus with hard stare.
"What do you mean?"
Optimus placed his hands onto the desk's top, and he stood up to his full height. He then lowered his gaze just enough so that he and Prowl were looking directly into one another's optics.
"I make it my personal duty to oversee the reports from those that attend these facilities, and that includes when they have complaints about their academics. Within the last few months, I've been receiving reports about mild to severe injuries being inflicted upon your students. I didn't want to jump to any conclusions, but I decided to move up my time table and come for an early visit. Now, tell me, just what exactly have you been teaching here?"
If Prowl was nervous, or even angry, he did not give anything away. He remained permanently stone-faced, and he folded his hands over his mouth, looking thoughtful.
"Basic combat." he said pointedly. "You know as well as I do, Prime, that it's dangerous out there: quintessons, shadow parasites, rogue humans, laser beasts, etc. I'm just being sure that they're more than capable of dealing with what's to come. Frankly, I think some spilled energon, and perhaps the occasional severed limb, is a small price to pay when considering the long run."
From the look on Prime's face, it became apparent to Prowl that he didn't approve.
"Ok, I'll admit that maybe I'm going a bit hard on them." he admitted. "But you gotta believe me, Prime. I'm doing what's best for them."
Optimus offered him an understanding nod.
"I believe you, Prowl. Honest, I do, but you have to understand that these are just younglings. Not soldiers."
Prowl face welled up into a sneer, and he placed his palms onto the desk.
"Oh, so that's what this is really about, is it?"
Optimus jumped back like he had been bitten, but his optics glinted dangerously at Prowl.
"Now hold on there, Prowl! I came here purely as your friend with a genuine concern. I did NOT come all this way just to open up old wounds and make them fester. This is not the time."
"I think it is." Prowl rumbled matter-of-factly. "You wanted to talk about my shortcomings, then let's talk about yours. Namely, the Decepticons."
Optimus visibly shook with mounting rage, and he had to take several deep breaths before he felt he was able to speak again.
"I understand that you didn't approve of my policies." he said.
"That's putting it mildly!" Prowl snapped. "Prison camps, taking out their T-cogs, mandatory therapy sessions: ARE YOU KIDDING ME? What you should have done was marched them all into the smelting pits of Kaon, and that's still more merciful than what those mindless monsters actually deserved!"
"Your outrage is understandable." Optimus said in a failing attempt to keep his friend calm. "But this is what the council all agreed upon. After Megatron's death, the consensus of the Decepticon forces surrendered peacefully. Having already soiled my hands with Megatron's energon, I felt that there was no need for further violence, and the council elected agreed. Minus you, of course. With Megatron gone, there is no one left to lead them."
"How can you be so sure?!" Prowl retorted. "There have been others that were more than capable of leading the Decepticon cause. I have made a detailed list of all cons that have gone into hiding that could fit this mold: Shockwave, Soundwave, Bludgeon, Overlord, Tarn, even slagging Starscream could be a potential rabble rouser if he could get the steam up!"
"I'm all too aware of this." Optimus insisted. "However, all of whom you have mentioned are the unaccounted for Decepticons. Those that have surrendered are under constant surveillance, and we have made certain that they are completely incapable of causing harm. It is my hope that, with time and a little patience, perhaps we can work the Decepticons back into society, and we can finally put the war behind us."
If it were even possible, Prowl's scowl deepened even further.
"I've gotta say this, Optimus. I have always been supportive of you throughout the years, but sometimes that 'I gotta save everyone' attitude of yours really grinds my gears. This Second Golden Age you keep shoveling down bots' windpipes, as well as this peace and happiness scrap, it's not gonna happen. There will never be peace on Cybertron, not until every last slagging con is wiped off the face of the universe!"
Prowl wasn't aware that he had gone around his desk, but now he was standing face plate to face plate with Optimus. He may have been shorter than the Prime by comparison, but his tone carried an authority that equaled, if not rivaled, the Autobot leader's. They remained locked in still battle for a long moment of minutes, neither side backing down as the full fury of their convictions seemed to fill the space. At last, it was Optimus whom broke the lock, and he turned his back to Prowl.
"I'll be staying for a couple of days to get a better idea of this outpost's position." he said simply. "During that time, I would appreciate it if you didn't bring this up again. You students have more to worry about than a war that is over. On that, I'm sure we both can agree."
Prowl didn't offer anything as a reply, opting to just glare at Optimus' back. Without another word, Optimus made his way out the door, and he disappeared into the hall. Prowl moved back behind his desk and returned to his drink. He took a sip, but he found it to have a bit of a bitter taste. He looked over to the wall with all his trophies, particularly the photo held in the center. He sighed, and he set down his glass.
"I'll say this about the war." he mused to himself. "Back then, everything didn't feel so complicated."
