I love Megatron. He says his own name repeatedly in the first Transformers movie. 3 How fantastic.
Oh, one thing in advance! I love Megatron and Starscream, I really do- but when I write them, it's so hard not to be so mean!
I envy anyone who can portray their relationship in that brilliant, comical way.
My point is this: tell me if I kind of veer off from the whole humour side, and start going all angsty.
But we're delving into relationships, here. Woopwoop! I feel like Team Seven haven't had much spotlight time, so I decided to bully them. :3
Hm. I've written looooooooads today, except most of it is for way-in-the-future chapters. Darn. Never mind.
Each chapter, there'll be a little update on how the 'cons are doing until they finally integrate properly. (;D No plot give-aways there.)
Tsk. Well: read- and review if you feel like having a hug from... Ratchet. He'll give you a hug if you review today.
He may not be pleased, but he will.
And, it looks like I will be going over what the data-pads said.
Thank you, sweet people! xD
Jetfire chewed the inside of his cheek. Why was this so hard? He only had nine cycles left to complete this data-pad, and he couldn't answer Arcee's first question. He had asked everyone- this may have counted as cheating, but they all understood; they were struggling too.
Sideswipe had asked him if Prowl enjoyed any reckless and/or unusual activities. Jetfire had answered as honestly as he could. As to whether Hot Rod would excel in tests of intellect (whilst constrained to a time limit and avoiding enemy fire at the same time as carrying out a dangerous A-rank experiment), this was easier- yet at the same time more complicated to answer.
Did no one know what made Arcee laugh? Perhaps it was a trick question, or simply unanswerable, like what came first: Primus or the Allspark. (Jetfire had a theory on this, but he had a feeling no one would really appreciate it.) He bet that Optimus and Jazz didn't know the answer- but they set the questions. Of course they'd know.
This left one option. He'd have to stalk Arcee until she laughed. Simple. But dangerous.
Four cycles later, and there was still no sign of amusement. He had learnt a lot about what she did, however. He peeked around the corner.
Arcee was still in the medbay ranting at Ratchet, who had looked depressed even before she had entered the room.
"You put that near my chest-plate again, and I'll-"
"It's a medical instrument!" Ratchet wailed.
"Get your grubby paws off of my-"
"I need to run some tests! How can I attach the-"
"You tried to touch me, you sex-"
"I'M A MEDIC! IT'S WHAT I DO!" Ratchet howled, running into his office.
Jetfire could see Red Alert patting him on the shoulder.
"Jetfire? What are you doing here?" Arcee had spotted him hovering.
Jetfire jumped. Holy- codfish! Foiled. "I'm... going to see the twins and Prowl?" he replied nervously.
Arcee frowned. "I hope you weren't spying on my check-up."
This sounded more threatening than Megatron with an intelligent plan.
"NO!" Jetfire squeaked, hurtling into Prowl's room- or he would have, had he not been blocked by the twins.
"You coming in, Jet?" Sides asked.
"Um, I was, yes-"
Sunstreaker menacingly shoved his helm nearer to Jetfire's (or, he tried. It looked more like he was thrusting his helm at Jetfire's chassis). This gesture would have been ineffective on any other mech of Jetfire's height, but the shuttle flinched. "Don't. Mention. The. W. Word."
"T-t...t-the w-what?" Jetfire trembled.
Ironhide was busy swopping rumours with Ratchet- who had sent Red Alert to see what he could do with Arcee- when he saw Jetfire being intimidated by Sunstreaker.
He narrowed his optics. "Honestly."
Ratchet looked up from a small, pink voodoo doll that Sam had kindly bought him as a present.
"Jetfire. Just look at him." The shuttle was now visibly quaking as Sunny jabbed a finger at him. "A mech that size-!"
"Size has nothing to do with it," Ratchet replied.
"Just 'cause that has to be your philosophy," Ironhide sniggered, but then was immediately serious again. "Bumblebee has infinitely more of a 'backbone' than Jetfire does. And he's a third of the size."
"You're too hard on him," Ratchet sighed, hurling the doll at a wall and watching with satisfaction as it bounced back, limbs flailing limply.
Ironhide growled, watching the two mechs. "If Sunny lays one servo on him..."
"Shouldn't he fight his own battles?" the CMO asked teasingly, slamming the doll headfirst into the table viciously.
"C'monnnnn, Ratch. Help me out here."
Ratchet scratched his helm. "A mech as timid as Jetfire isn't going to be transformed overnight. Nor," he eyed Ironhide closely, "will blasting him help. Physical violence will not aid the condition."
Ironhide scowled and opened his mouth, but Ratchet cut him off. "It won't! And you can't go all gung-ho-cannons-blazing at Sunny. Yes, he's a twerp. No, it won't help. It'll just make things worse."
The black mech shook his helm in frustration, cannons rotating unhappily, and glanced back at his teammate, whose antennae were twitching anxiously.
Ratchet yanked on the head of the doll. It didn't come off.
After a couple of minutes of Sunny threatening Jetfire- who didn't understand what he was talking about, Sideswipe finally intervened quietly. "The W-O-R-K word. We're trying to wean Prowlie off of it- so try not to bring it up, okay?"
Jetfire twitched thankfully, and entered.
"Leave him alone, yellow." The hiss was not directed at him.
"Yellow? You just call me yellow? I'm golden-"
"Hey, P-Prowl." Jetfire tried to ignore the twins.
"Morning, Jetfire." the depressed looking patient responded. "You look as distressed as I feel."
"...W-what?"
"Those two are driving me insane. All day, they argue." He saw Jetfire open his mouth. "Oh- when they're not arguing, they're calling me Prowl...ie." He hissed the ie quietly, as if it were offensive.
"Could be worse, sir. They could physically attack you."
Prowl eyed his visitor, and noticed a large cannon burn on his shoulder, and a series of dents on his legs. "What on Cybertron happened to you?"
"I got in the way of my teammates when they were- um- debating, and then Arcee..." he trailed off with a shrug, further explanation seeming unnecessary.
Prowl winced. "You should see Ratchet about these injuries."
Jetfire winced. "Doesn't matter, I'll be fine. They're just surface." Inspiration struck him. Perhaps Hot Rod would know what made the femme laugh- he hadn't asked the younger mech, and he did spend some time with Arcee. "Do you know where Hot Rod would be?"
Prowl massaged his nasal-plating. "...Assuming he's with Bumblebee, they'll be in the Training Room. At least, I could be sure if I had my schedule...?" He looked up, hopefully.
Ratchet's voice growled through the comm. frequency. "N-O."
Prowl sighed. Jetfire fumbled- how did one fumble when pulling something from sub-space?- and produced a small device. "Here- Wheeljack and I made this for you, because we thought you were probably really bored, and-"
"Does it... explode?"
Jetfire beamed. "Shouldn't do."
Prowl took it. "What is it, then?"
"A version of what the humans call a Rubix Cube- obviously a little more complicated."
Prowl smiled back. "Thank you, Jetfire."
The shuttle decided that he didn't want to walk past Sunstreaker just yet. He walked to the window, intending to look at the view.
"...If you're going to defy rule number 75b, you had better do it while I'm regarding this cube," Prowl commented.
Jetfire consulted the hefty list of rules.
75b:
Exiting a building by the window -for a reason other than emergency- is forbidden.
P.S. This is due to the large amount of casualties sustained by landing on other Cybertronians, not to mention human allies.
P.P.S. This is also due to the fact that it is extremely annoying.
"Will do, sir." This would please Ironhide. If only he knew. Jetfire carefully navigated his large frame through the window, and jumped.
As he flew towards the Training Room, feeling slightly liberated, he saw Hot Rod and Bumblebee inside, firing at something.
Well, naturally. They were training. That wasn't what stalled his engines. He saw Arcee, sniggering in their direction.
Yes! This was his chance.
Jetfire sneaked a glance at the origin of her amusement.
Darn. He couldn't see anything. He'd have to fly closer.
All he could see was- well, nothing. Just Hot Rod and Bumblebee.
Perhaps she was laughing at some memory, or something.
Jetfire thought carefully. Was sniggering even laughing, anyway? Sniggering was more malicious.
He saw Hot Rod whirl on Bumblebee as the other mech's cannon blast flew by his helm.
Arcee sniggered again.
Wow, that was harsh. Jetfire compiled all of the times he'd seen Arcee snigger. Yes, in all parts, she'd been sniggering... at mechs. Was that all?
No! It wasn't! His engines stalled again in excitement.
This time, they wouldn't start again. Uhoh. Transforming, Jetfire prepared to hit the ground. This was going to hurt, but if he landed correctly-
He had to record the answer in the data-pad first, in case he forgot! Quickly, the scientist transferred his hypothesis onto the device. Done. Oh dear- the ground had approached worryingly fast. There wasn't time to land properly. Jetfire winced in preparation for the impact.
He could just tell this was going to ache when he came back online.
Starscream scowled. This wasn't going to work. Yet another one of Megatron's plans doomed to utter failure.
"Optimus will never see this coming," the Decepticon Commander chuckled darkly. "We'll walk in and blast the merry Pit out of him until he reveals the scheme!"
He strode away down the corridor, obviously intending to do it right that second.
Oh, Primus. Megatron clearly wasn't in a thinking mood today- well, that was blatant. It had taken him five cycles to come up with this latest genius idea.
"Uhh... Lord Megatron! Perhaps we should fine-tune your magnificent plan-!" Starscream hurried to catch up.
Megatron frowned, but continued on his way. "Why?"
Starscream had discovered long ago that if he said something was rubbish, Megatron was even more likely to proceed. This was some twisted way of asserting his dominance, and Starscream hated it. If that egotistical fool would listen, perhaps the Decepticons would have gotten somewhere by now.
It must be true. It was what Wikipedia said.
For now, he'd have to rely on influencing Megatron another way. "It is going to be hard to get to Prime, my liege. But then again, if it were my plan, I would blast my way in. I definitely wouldn't use any form of stealth. I definitely wouldn't sneak in there. I hate sneaking; I can't do it. I just wasn't made to be sneaky."
Megatron immediately stopped. "Too bad, Starscream; you're going to have to learn. We aren't Decepticons for nothing! We'll fool those foolish Autobots! Right under their nasal-plating, we shall steal victory!"
Starscream sighed with relief; he knew he could rely on Megatron's love for spiting him.
But unholy Pit, what was he getting himself into?
