AN: Not really a funny chapter, but another mech Prowl has issues with. The turn around time starts next chapter, or perhaps the one after that. ^_^


Prowl's return to work was less than glorious; there was no welcoming committee and only a stack of datapads that were probably orns over due. He expected many mechs to walk through his office door during his first shift back, and though Ironhide was among those on that mental list, it was not for the reason the ebony mech stated.

"Weapons practice?" The tactician questioned with a twitch in his doorwings.

"Yea, ya heard me. Ain't seen ya on the firin' range since ya got here." Ironhide stated, "So as Weapons Specialist I'm pullin' rank. Can't have ya getting' shot on the battlefield cause ya couldn't shoot back." He stated, in defense of his orders.

Blue optics narrowed briefly as Prowl thought it was highly unlikely that something like that would occur. His position and rank alone meant he wasn't designed for front line battle. Perhaps ordering their units around from a good safe distance but not right in the thick of things, besides he felt his weapons ability was above par and thus did not need to be critiqued.

"Ironhide, while I respect your rank and position, I have several thing I need to catch up on, if you weren't aware I have been on medical leave for the last three orns."

There was a chuckle from the larger mech then, "Trust me, I know, everyone knows." Doorwings twitched, that was just wonderful, "Ya ain't got much of a choice Prowl, Prime's orders. None of us has seen ya in battle and Prime ain't comfortable puttin' ya there without seein' how ya react first hand."

Well, if it was Prime…couldn't really argue with that now could he?

Then again, as his over active processors pointed out, simulated battle did very little to gauge how mechs would react in real battle.


"Move yer aft Prowl!" Ironhide growled over the sounds of the simulated battle, frustrated beyond belief at the lack luster way the black and white was responding to attacks from the drones.

Prowl for his part had his small ion cannon-small compared to 'Hide's, out and was taking pot shots at the drones while putting very little effort in dodging the fake return fire. It wasn't real so there was no point in dodging it. If this was an activity designed to put the fear of real battle into him, it failed entirely.

When the simulation ended Ironhide was no happier than he had been when it began. Prowl scored decently and hadn't taken any fatal wounds from the fake enemy blasts but clearly hadn't grasped the concept of the exorcise. In short, Ironhide knew the black and white wasn't putting his spark into it. Primus knew Hide hoped this wasn't the best Prowl could do, he certainly wouldn't last long if it was.


Jazz intercepted the black and white outside the firing range, only after getting a glance at the SIC's scores from the read out. Posted outside the room a screen displayed recent users and scores, all time record holders and the like. War wasn't a game, but in training competitive mechs did better, and the more they trained the longer they lived. That was a statistical fact.

"Didn't do too bad Prowler." The silver mech offered, falling in line beside the other.

Doorwings twitched at the nick name but said nothing, it was apparently a lost cause. "The exorcise was illogical." He stated simply in response causing Jazz to frown in thought.

"What? Ya mean shootin' the bad guys, dodgin' the fire and ya know…generally stayin' alive?" Doorwings only twitched in response, as Jazz, like Ironhide failed to see the differences between real and fake battle.