Sowing Chaos

Frenzy-Jazz tracked Optimus as the big mech patrolled the city, his shimmering flame paint made him very easily followed. During which time, her sharp mind calculated different angles of 'attack' from various buildings as he passed them. After all, one should always hold onto the high ground if they wished to be victorious. Isn't that what Rumble had always said?

.

She also calculated routes of fast escape, knowing that the big ground mech had little hope in catching her on the open road. It would be pretty funny to watch him try though. She envisioned him rolling over as he tried to take the turns at the speeds she was able to. His higher center of gravity; really reduced his maneuverability. Fortunately, she didn't have that problem, now did she?

Scanning their radio frequencies, Frenzy-Jazz waited until all the other Autobots were well outt've range to help. She didn't want any interference with her … little game.

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Cruising slowly down Main Street, Optimus again went over the events in his Meta. He didn't like unknowns, and this unknown entity that was in Jazz's chassis, was really causing him some internal stress. He knew the mech's abilities, and doubted they'd find him – unless he wanted to be found. Yet, for some reason, he didn't think the silver mech had gone far. He didn't know why, but he sensed deep inside – that Jazz was still very, very close by.

Lost in his thoughts, he stopped at the traffic light and scanned the passing cars for his friend. Yet, his scan never got past the minivan full of cos-players when, suddenly, mech feet landed on the top of his cab! Before he could react, he felt a wet sensation pouring across the top of his cab. Transforming, he twirled with his weapon ready. Just in time to watch the silver mech as he agilely leaped off Prime's transforming chassis, and made it to the top of the nearest building. Waving at the bigger mech, the silver one dashed off and disappeared over the other side.

Stepping over the cars around him, barely noting the kid in the Buick that cried, "it's Big O", Prime ran around the building. Making it there just in time to witness the silver mech leap off a red brick structure, transforming in mid-air, and burning rubber as he disappeared down the street. Knowing that he had no chance in catching the swift mech, Prime put his gun away with a growl of his engines. Scratching his head in bewilderment; it was then he realized that the wet sensation seemed to be spreading over his helm and shoulders.

Pulling his hand away from whatever was laying in wait on his shoulders, he looked at his fingers with amazement. The silver mech had coated him with yellow paint! His optics widened in disbelief, for not even the Decepticons had so easily pulled a stunt like this one on him. This 'Jazz' sure was a smart little slogger!

Prime huffed in disgust and tried to shake some of the paint off his fingers, only to make it dry faster. "Sure acts like Sideswipe," murmured the mech as he continued to look at his now yellow fingers. He was kind've glad that Sideswipe was still wandering the cosmos with his twin, for he sure couldn't handle TWO pranksters at once!

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Zooming away from Optimus, Frenzy-Jazz giggled uncontrollably as she engaged her radio jamming equipment. Heading towards her next 'target' she kept picturing the look on Prime's face as he realized he'd been 'vandalized'. The warmth of a prank well done filled her core. She sure wished that Rumble could've seen this one. To pull such a stunt on the most powerful mech in the Galaxy, was, well – a heck of a testament to the superior intelligence of a femme!

Ah, the joy of a little chaos! She thought to herself in glee. And she just couldn't wait to add to the chaos!

Up in the hills, she looked down and spotted her next victim. Snickering, she knew this one would be even more entertaining than the first! Jumping agilely from one road to the next, she ended up coming towards Ironhide, on the very same road.

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Ironhide noticed that his radio was having some interference issues, but since these hills tended to do that – he wasn't overly concerned. Heck, he was hunting Jazz wasn't he? And the Weapon's Specialist had little doubt that the light mech would avoid him at all costs anyway. He knew that with just one well-aimed punch, he'd have the silver mech flat on his back. Then Ratchet could figure out just what in the devil was glitched up in Jazz's logic circuits.

Scanning the passing cars, Ironhide's sensors passed right over the silver Dodge Viper without even stopping. For he was scanning for a Pontiac Solstice, not a Viper – so why even bother to notice it? It was probably due to that line of thinking that, as the Viper came towards him, he didn't notice immediately - that it had transformed. In surprise, Ironhide veered sharply. The high velocity swerve caused him to flip, his two left tires suddenly tasting nothing but air! With a scream of shifting metal, he transformed even as he flipped out of control; trying desperately to get a bead on the silver mech who was now leaping over him.

Suddenly, the whole world went yellow! Ironhide cussed as his aft hit the ground hard, mounds of dirt getting stuck between his hip joints; with one final curse, the Weapon Specialist realized that his optics were coated in some viscous yellow liquid. Wiping them with his fingers, he cleared his vision just in time to see the silver mech wave at him cheerily. Then the agile mech jumped off the side off the road; Landing oh-so-lightly on his feet, two hundred feet below.

Transforming, the Dodge Viper burned rubber outt've sight. The smell of burned rubber, was soon the only thing that remained for Ironhide to cuss at.

"Why that little freagin' punk!" Ironhide grumbled as he looked down at his fingers, which were coated in yellow paint. Touching his helm, he realized that his entire head was now coated yellow. "You sloggin' vandal, when I get my hands on you I'll –"

- his final words were lost to the disappearing mech, as she tore around the next hill. Frenzy-Jazz merely laughed hard for the next hour.

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"So he got you too I see," Optimus stated as Ironhide came up to the warehouse, dust followed after the two as they came to a halt on the gravel.

"Why that little freagin' sloggin' piece of slag! I'm going to re-arrange his entire chassis when I get a hold of him!" Ironhide grumbled as he transformed, puffing out his chest in order to keep a little bit of his pride. He might have been yellow, but he was no coward. Unlike that little hit-and-run punk who'd done this to them! Oh, he'd pay. Yes, he'd pay.

Due to the ruckus of the squabbling mech, one lone human stumbled out of the Autobots base from his nap, squinting as the sunlight assaulted him. For a moment, Sam looked from one yellow-headed mech to the other, thinking it was dream. He tried desperately not to laugh when he realized that dreams were not this funny. The two hardened warriors did look – hysterical! The bright yellow paint on their heads and shoulders; looked even brighter in contrast to the rest of their body colors. All they needed now were some feathers and this moment would be perfect.

"The little bastard is worse than Sideswipe!" Ironhide grumbled. And Sideswipe had pulled some serious pranks back on Cybertron! But he'd never gone after the two highest ranking Autobots on the same day. He knew better and loved his body parts too much to even attempt such a feet.

"And quicker too," Optimus agreed while his processor started to compare the two mechs, silently wondering if Sideswipe was Jazz in disguise. The idea was quickly terminated; he didn't want to end up paranoid like Red Alert. He just hoped that they could catch the slogger soon, and have Ratchet fix the glitch in the silver mech's meta!

"Did you hear him howling in laughter as he drove away?! The nerve! I'm going to so blow him a new one when I see him next time!" the yellow-topped black mech stomped by Prime and stormed into the warehouse. Thinking about how good it would feel to turn that piece of slag into yet another alt mode.

Following him inside, making sure to duck in order to not hit his helm on the low doorway, Prime put his hand on the Weapon Specialist's shoulder. "You are not to fire unless fired upon," he ordered.

"What the pit? You expect me to just let the sack of bolts get away with this!" Ironhide quickly bit his glossa as Prime's glare penetrated him; it was unwise to snap at ones' commander, "I mean … why not?" he quickly rephrased his statement into a question; Though the tone of his voice showed his true feelings on the whole situation.

"He didn't use weapons, and he more than had the opportunity," Prime explained, glad that he didn't have to punish the mech for being insubordinate; But completely understanding Ironhide's feelings about the vandal.

Spraying some solvent on his head, Ironhide grumbled as he tried to get the paint off of his black finish. "Guess you got a point, so are we shooting paint balls now? Pretty damned pathetic if ya ask me!" Of all things – paintballs!? Crap, he sure hoped no one back on Cybertron would ever see him loading his mighty cannons with – paintballs! Unless it was Sunstreaker witnessing it … the vain mech would probably have a panic attack if Ironhide even aimed in his vicinity.

Soon, the sound of heavy feet filled the area, and a green mech entered the scene. The medic stared for a moment, his logic center rushing for an answer. In the end, he decided that he didn't want to freeze up, so asking would be much easier. "What happened to you two?"

Seeing the medic and Bumblebee walk in, Optimus nodded his greetings, thanking Primus that mechs couldn't blush.

"We've apparently run-across our missing friend," he explained. Grabbing the solvent from Ironhide, he sprayed some on his own helm.

"Looks more like he was waiting for you," Ratchet noted. "Did he get you both at once?" His optic ridges were raised in curiosity that the silver mech would even have the audacity to vandalize these particular mechs. Much less, be so efficient at it.

"No, we were at least ten miles away from each other," grumbled Ironhide in an impatient tone. He was way too old for this … way too old.

"Hmmmm, I thought our radios were purposefully jammed for five minutes. This is a smart little devil!" Ratchet motioned for the two vandalized mechs to sit down. He and Bumblebee then started to get the paint off of them. "What model is he?" He knew the mech couldn't still be in a Solstice alt mode – these two experienced soldiers would've spotted him miles away.

Ironhide's optic ridges went up, "Damned, I didn't really think about it 'till now. The rust bucket was a silver Dodge Viper." He didn't want to think about the connotations of the silver mech's switch of alt modes. That meant the little bastard was TRYING to catch them unaware! Just how long had the freager been tracking them?

Ratchet nodded, his expression thoughtful. "So now we've got a mech who's clearly capable of utilizing every move in Jazz's repertoire, knows enough to scan a new alt mode, as well as smart enough to ambush our two most experienced mechs. Well, this promises to be unpleasant." At least the mech didn't seem aggressive, but then why was he obviously hanging around them?

"He also seems highly creative in his choice of 'weapons'," Optimus added. Now, to a human, creativity was a minor obstacle, given that everyone had some imagination. But, since most mechs relied heavily on their logic centers, the little silver pain in the aft was going to be a hard one to outsmart.

Ironhide snorted, "And laughs hysterically at his own pranks, little piss-ant!" This grated on him even more than the prank had. Even Sideswipe didn't laugh in a mech's face like that … he at least turned the corner first to have the Ark walls for protection.

The medic frowned at this information. Well, he kind of already knew it, but it would have been nice if it really was Jazz, "Well, this is definitely not Jazz, nor a brand new sparkling. I think we're dealing with a con spark in Jazz's chassis." Ratchet stated.

Prime nodded his agreement, "So perhaps the AllSpark took one of their fleeing sparks and put it in that cell phone when it blew?"

"Perhaps, but this M.O. doesn't sound like any of the cons that died in Mission City," the medic said as he shrugged his shoulders, "His nature has been far too docile." He envisioned what it would be like with Bonecrusher, Brawl or Megatron in that chassis. No, if it'd been any of those, they'd have snuck in the warehouse and planted explosives – for their 'prank'.

"I know who it freagin' sounds like – that manic freak Frenzy!" Ironhide's optics glimmered in anger at the very thought. He had promised that he'd one day step on the little freak … oh well, holes would look much better on him anyway, than having to have to scrape the little slagger off the bottom of his foot.

"Hmmm, sure does. But Frenzy off lined at Hoover Dam. So just how did his spark end up all the way in the City?" Optimus wondered aloud. He felt unease fill his core, for that damned hacker had penetrated Autobot headquarters and bases on numerous occasions. Unlike most cons, those little hackers seemed to have the uncanny knack for getting their missions done. And as small as they were, it had always amazed him how much damage and chaos that they could create. And now one of the smart little bastards; had an even better chassis for infiltration and sabotage!

No one had any ideas on that one, so a universal shrug ran through the ranks.

"Well, if it's Frenzy – I'm going to so off-line his aft again!" Ironhide stated, pulling out his guns to make the point that more obvious. The sound of his main cannons powering up, added even more emphasis to his future plans for the hacker.

'Bee watched the exchange among the older mech's as she peeled off the last off the yellow paint off Ironhide's head. Now, personally, the young femme still didn't know what to think of the other femme. It was fairly obvious that their personalities clashed, but still, she was a femme. Probably the only femme she'd ever see again. Now, 'Bee was young when she had been stuck in the ranks of the Autobots as a mech, so she didn't know much of the femme's ways, but she was certain of one thing at least. Femmes looked out for each other, no matter their faction. That was rule number two, right after self preservation.

"But he didn't shoot at you did he?" Bumblebee quietly asked, still a little afraid to speak. If they found Frenzy, did that mean she would be found out as well? True, the femme had promised to never tell, and she also seemed to want the males all to herself in that regard. So perhaps she wouldn't have to worry. Yet, that brought another question to mind. Why was the Decepticon femme vandalizing them? She supposedly wanted them for breeding, didn't she? Bee just didn't understand her. Perhaps it was the difference in Autobot and Decepticon base programming. The hacker was smart enough to know what she was doing – wasn't she? Or was this one of those 'crush' pranks that human children pulled on each other?

Optimus looked quizzically at the youngster. He'd been unnaturally quiet ever since Jazz had seemingly come back to life. But Bumblebee was busily scrapping paint off the top of Ironhide's helm and wouldn't meet his optics, so he was unable to conclude any emotions from the youngster. Perhaps the youngling was still in shock that it wasn't Jazz, for he had seemed to idolize the silver mech. "You've got a very good point Bumblebee," he told him.

"Since we don't know what his intentions are, unless he fires at you, no one is to fire at him. Does each of you understand me?" Optimus asked, trying not to flinch as Ratchet started to peel off some paint, which was stuck in between a seam in his helm.

Grudgingly, Ironhide nodded his agreement. "Can I fire at him, if I fill one of my cannons with paintballs?" he asked hopefully. It still irked him to fire paint balls, but he'd get some satisfaction seeing the silver mech in a different color. Gray was so last year anyway.

Optimus met his optics, knowing it was tearing Ironhide apart to agree to not shoot at a possible con. "Ok, but only paint balls." Perhaps it'd be good if he loaded a few as well?

"Hey, Sam, you wanna go with me to get five thousand rounds of red?" Ironhide asked. Yes, red would look REAL good against that silver background.

A grin that could rival that of the Joker's planted itself readily on the teenager's face. Destruction with paint balls … well, that seemed like fun. "Hell yah!" murmured the teenager. "Think I could carry a paint ball gun too?" he asked hopefully. He knew his dad wouldn't mind a paint ball gun, and it'd sure feel good to shoot at Frenzy. After all the little hacker had done to him!

Shooting Prime one of his 'looks', Ironhide quickly transformed and threw open one of his doors. The human didn't waist a moment's time before he jumped into the front seat, the door slamming behind him. Then, without even a second thought, the truck was off, throwing up a cloud of dust in his wake.

Ratchet sighed at this and motioned for 'Bee to take over his work on Prime's head as he went to search the cabinets for a small tool to get in between the seams. So, with that Bumblebee quietly started working on Prime's helm, wondering just what in the hell kind of game was Frenzy playing? Or were all 'Con femmes crazy? She wouldn't be surprised, given that the femme had managed to survive and apparently thrive in the wolfs' den.