Thank you for the reviews, lilyou22 and Forever Dreaming Grace! They are very much appreciated. ^_^
This part was a MONSTER. O_O
Evaluation
By Falcon's Hyperdrive
A.k.a. Fuzzy Slipper
Begun 5-12-10
Finished 1-29-11
Mute Spark knew very well that her trespass one week ago – half an orn – was not forgiven, and it was not forgotten. She was in no way surprised by this. The Cybertronian species was long-lived, and they had long memory. With one orn comparable to one Earth solar cycle for her people, half of her peoples' "day" was a very short time, especially in the minds of the former crew of the Celestial, such as Mute Spark and her guardians. They were very recent arrivals, even to the humans.
Still, even though it had only been one and a half orns since arriving on Earth, Mute Spark was quickly succumbing to that restlessness that seemed to be second nature to her. She had never really handled doing nothing very well, at least from what she could remember. Although she remembered certain things from her past, stretches of time remained unremembered by her. She couldn't even remember the name of the Decepticon who had ruined her life . . .
But right now, that didn't matter to her. She had just come out of recharge, and she was fully ready to do something productive, rather than to just wander around trying to find something to keep her CPU occupied. The sound of tinkering made itself known from somewhere inside her new quarters, and she onlined her optics to find Shadowblade sitting by the door, a rifle and some tools in hand.
Mute Spark blinked, rather frankly surprised. Her mech guardian hardly if ever sat in her quarters, waiting for her to wake up, anymore. Something important was about to happen, she knew.
=Whatever it is, I didn't do it,= she told him in good humor. Shadowblade, to his credit, didn't even jerk, long experience paying off well.
He grinned, highly amused as he set the object of his tinkering aside. "Of course you didn't," he answered. "Actually, I think it was that Volt again."
Mute Spark rolled her optics, not doubting that in the least. She had learned first hand that the youngling was quite the troublemaker, especially when paired with those visored twins and herself. =And what has happened to prompt a guard at my door?=
Shadowblade shook his head, smirking. "Well, no one's really gotten over your part in that fiasco, yet. That Spike human and his father, Sparkplug, just got in, and they were quite impressed with your daring feats, and your strong will to protect your companions. But none of that's the reason I'm here. Flareup and I have decided an orn off is enough, and you need to start working to keep that brilliant CPU of yours busy." The SpecOps soldier grinned. "What do you think?"
Mute Spark was on her feet before she knew it, optics shining in excitement. =Yes! It gets boring when I can't go anywhere by myself. I'm ready!=
Shadowblade laughed. "Okay, then. But I have to warn you," he continued, sobering, "there's something that you have to do, first. In order to be qualified to be on duty, you must first be evaluated in what fighting you know – so that they know what they can and can't do in your duties – and your mental fitness. Optimus Prime will be passing judgement on that last part. Do you understand?"
=Yes. If I am too immature, I won't be qualified. I am not ignorant, Shadowblade. I know how worried you and Flareup are about me. I promise, I won't let you down.=
Her mech guardian smiled fondly and rubbed her helm in a familiar gesture as he stood. "I know you won't. Come on, let's get you some energon. We need to be in the training room in one human hour – 7.22891566 breems. Think you can hurry?"
Mute Spark was out the door in a flash. =Waiting on you, now!= she called back.
Shadowblade just laughed and rushed to catch up.
...
=Recount! Guess what, guess what!=
The ex-captain of the starship Celestial let out an amused chuckle at the young femme's antics as she practically skipped toward him, ignoring the glowering looks some mechs sent her way. While impressed with the femme's resolve, the majority of the Autobots were still not happy with her. "I'm assuming it's not Charger getting pranked by the Twins."
Mute Spark paused at that, stopping across the table from him as she waited for Shadowblade to catch up. =No, but that would be awesome. And who are the Twins? Not Scooter and Dash, I take it?=
Recount shook his head. "Nah, the younglings are still grounded. The Twins I'm talking about are Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, whom you may meet at some point in the near future. They land themselves in the Med Bay a lot. So, what's the great news?"
=Oh!= Mute Spark beamed at him, just barely reigning in her excitement. =Shadowblade says I'm being evaluated in a few breems.=
Recount nearly choked on his energon. "A few breems?" he sputtered when he was able. "Congrats, kid, but you should get there while you can. Ironhide wasn't gentle at all in my evaluation, and he doesn't appreciate tardiness."
Mute Spark somehow managed to snort over the comm. =Blame Shadowblade, he didn't wake me up. And it'll be drinking and going. Oh, there he is with the energon . . . Bye!=
Recount grinned. "See you later, then. Oh, hey, kid! Good luck!"
=Thank you!=
...
Needless to say, Mute Spark wasn't very happy at all.
=I can't believe you didn't wake me up!=
"Ah, well, I figured you could use the rest," came the sheepish reply.
=Rest! This isn't rest! This is running so I don't get the bolts beaten out of me for getting there late!=
"Relax, Ironhide wouldn't do that."
=It doesn't help that I participated in the game last . . . week?= Mute Spark swept the thought aside. =Say, can you fit in air shafts?=
"Yes . . .?"
=Good. Close it behind us, please, I have to make sure I'm on time. And don't think Flareup's not hearing about this!=
Shadowblade let out a hearty laugh as Mute Spark detoured towards one of the large air vents that had become the head of security's worst nightmare. "I don't doubt it," he assured her. "You know where you're going?"
=I spent a while acquainting myself during the game,= she answered, rather dryly. =Keep up, now, or you might get lost.=
Her surrogate father was nothing if not amused. "Right behind you."
...
Mute Spark was quite suddenly reminded of her time spent in the brig, when the three younglings came to visit her, as she removed the air vent. The four Autobots waiting for her were watching in surprise, but she ignored them as she waited for Shadowblade to exit the shaft. =Slowpoke,= she teased, replacing the cover.
The SpecOps soldier shrugged, smirking. "What can I say? You're smaller and more maneuverable." He turned, noticed the waiting mechs, and gave a cheery wave. "Hi, we're here!"
One of the four snickered. "Isn't that what got you in trouble in the first place, Sparks?"
Mute Spark turned to him and smiled. =No, it was the paint I shot at mechs and femmes and lying afterwards that got me in trouble. The crawling around in the air shafts was not restricted.=
Jazz nodded. "Of course. I can't argue with that. And I'm surprised you fit in there, Blade."
Shadowblade looked sheepish at that. "Yeah, well, it's a little harder than it looks. Helps that I'm built to be more slender, though. Ah, Prowl, sir. Ironhide. Hey, Swiftcast."
Prowl seemed to be doing his best to ignore what Mute Spark and Shadowblade had just done, and a slightly sparking helm seemed to explain why. Mute Spark went into medic mode immediately, and was at his side in an instant. One scan later, and she had fiddled with something in the SIC's helm before anyone realized she had done it.
They all blinked at her as she stepped away, too serious optics staring up at Prowl in concern. =How's that feel?= came the general broadcast.
Prowl blinked again and nodded. "Thank you, Mute Spark. If I may ask, what did you just do?"
=Hmm? Oh, I simply sent a direct data burst explaining why crawling around in the air shafts to get here on time was completely logical. You should be able to find the information packet easily enough, it's just floating around on top. Anyway, that's all that needed to be done to forestall the triggering of the logic glitch you have.=
Azure optics were suddenly focused intently on the young femme. "How did you . . .?"
Mute Spark smiled, settling down from the so-called medic mode. =Medic, remember, sir? Flareup and Shadowblade made sure my frame included top of the line medical scanners. Also, it's interesting what you can hear through gossip, especially when you have nothing else to do for an orn.=
Prowl adopted a look of understanding and nodded one more time. "I see. Thank you for your quick thinking. Ironhide, Jazz, you may proceed. When you are finished with your evaluations, bring her to the command center. Optimus Prime and I will be waiting there for her mental evaluation."
The command center. There were bound to be quite a few Bots who were upset with Mute Spark there, and she wasn't looking forward to returning to that room. But she had to face them sometime, and it was possible she was just paranoid.
But just because you're paranoid doesn't mean someone's not out to get you.
Ironhide was observing the smaller femme with a very calculating gaze as Prowl left. "So, you're Mute Spark, hmm?"
The femme did her best not to fidget under his stare, and succeeded for the most part. =Yes, sir,= was her brief answer, and Ironhide nodded approvingly at her lack of flinching.
"Well, then, Mute Spark. Shadowblade's explained to me already that you're not built for frontline fighting, and that you've yet to be given stronger armor, though Flareup's working on it. So, as a result, I'm not expecting all that much from you. This is a simple evaluation, nothing more. Give your absolute best here, and we'll work from there. Understood?"
Mute Spark nodded sharply, reigning in her smile. =Yes, sir!=
"Good. Your first evaluation will be hand-to-hand, and you'll be sparring with me. Your instructors, Swiftcast and Shadowblade, will be observing with Jazz. Simply step over here, and we'll begin."
Mute Spark hoped sincerely that Ironhide would take it easy on her. Having nothing else to do gave her plenty of time to hear various stories from the Earth Autobots, and it certainly didn't help that some of them were horror stories about the infamous Ironhide. He really wasn't as bad as he was made out to be, she decided as she followed obediently to sectioned off area where the sparring would take place. At least, so far he wasn't. There was no telling how quickly that view would change. After all, she had only met him once before, when he served as brig guard with Swiftcast.
Jazz's whistle distracted her from her down-spiraling thoughts. "Go get 'im, Sparks!" he cheered. She jerked, a bit startled, then smiled. She was an Autobot, and the student of Swiftcast and the whole of the Celestial's Special Operations Unit. And, she reminded herself as she faced Ironhide once more, it was time to act like it.
She dropped into a crouch soon after entering the sparring ring, her CPU quite abruptly very focused. It had always been like this for her, this centering of the mind. She didn't know if she was sparked like this or not, or if it was a side effect of her sparkling-hood trauma, but she hadn't ever really thought about it before, either. All she knew was that it was there, and it was incredibly helpful in those times when she felt her youngling-like behavior taking control. It worried those who knew her, but she didn't see a problem with it. Distractions could be fatal, after all.
Ironhide nodded approvingly at her ready position. He didn't seem too surprised with her change of attitude, so perhaps he had been warned. The idea wasn't surprising at all to the femme, as she knew everyone was always told what to expect of her. For anyone else it would have been strange; for Mute Spark, it was normal. She just hoped her guardians had remembered to tell them one other thing . . .
...
On the sidelines, Shadowblade crossed his arms. "I wonder how long she'll hold out," he commented to Swiftcast, previously hidden concern leaking into his voice. The warrior shook his head, revealing his ignorance.
"I don't know. Get ready to stop her, though."
Jazz frowned, glancing between the two. "Stop her from what?"
Shadowblade rubbed at the back of his neck, discomfort appearing in his expression. "It tends to go one of two ways: first, she'll run and hide; second, she'll go berserk and start thinking of Ironhide as a Decepticon."
The frown deepened. "What triggers it, and why is the last thing bad?"
The silver mech sighed, turning back to look at the circling duelists. "As a rule, Mute Spark never makes a sound. Ever. It's hardwired into her CPU by now, and each noise she makes tends to put her more on edge. And she may not be a front-liner, but my girl can pack a punch. When fighting a comrade, she will never use full force. When up against what she thinks is a Decepticon, however, mental barriers are removed, and she may attempt to use her Last Resort. Someone else is always there to stop her before she carries through with it, though."
Jazz blinked. "What's her Last Resort?"
"It's her-" Shadowblade broke off, staring at his superior. "We didn't tell you?"
"No."
Swiftcast hissed. "If you don't know, then Ironhide wouldn't. Shadowblade . . ."
The mech was already stepping forward to warn Ironhide of the possibilities, but he was too late. In the ring, an unspoken signal had been given, and the two combatants sprang forward.
...
The first clash of metal against metal caused Mute Spark to jerk backwards, leaping out of range of Ironhide's fists. She had made that noise, and this fact seemed to rebel against something deeply ingrained in the femme's CPU. She wasn't supposed to make noise; that could bring the bad mech, and-
Her thoughts came to a grinding halt as she scowled inwardly. Why did that keep coming up? The "bad mech," which was all she knew him by, wasn't anywhere around. She was with the Autobots, and there were no Decepticons here. She was safe, and she could make noise.
Maybe if I couldn't hear it?
It was an entirely childish concept, the one of "if I can't see him, he can't see me." It would cut down drastically on her chances of holding her own against Ironhide, but she didn't want to freak out on him as she had done with others in the past. Thank Primus, it hadn't happened often, and it had never been with Shadowblade. He was almost always there, though, to stop her before she hurt anybody. He had installed Last Resort; he knew how to prevent her from firing.
Oblivious to all of these thoughts, Ironhide charged, sending a punch directly at her face. She ducked, deactivating her audio receptors, and retaliated. She could feel the vibrations when her hand connected, but she couldn't hear it, and that was her saving grace. She would just have to make sure she kept an eye on Ironhide's face, too, so she could tell when he was talking.
...
Shadowblade stared at the spectacle before him. "Did she just shut off her audio?"
"Apparently, she did." Swiftcast crossed his arms. "She hasn't done that before. Maybe it'll help."
The silver mech frowned in worry. "She can't defend herself against Decepticons if she can't hear them."
"Blade, she's not going to turn off her hearing all the time. I think she just knows what making noise does to her, and she doesn't want to risk hurting Ironhide. You have to admit, it seems to be working."
"That's the danger. It's working, so she'll do it again. She can't rely on a crutch, or things will just get worse for her." Shadowblade gripped the barrier with tense hands, optics trained steadily on the practice fight before him. "And when she does make noise and hear it, it just might make things even worse for her."
The look in Swiftcast's optics was grim. "I guess you're right. So now what?"
Shadowblade cycled air through his vents. "I guess all we can do is wait. After they're done, I'll explain the problem. She's too focused to let me step in safely. And if she snaps . . ."
"You'll stop her." Swiftcast nodded. "You always have. Hoo, man, that one time she got a shot off, I thought Charger was gonna get slagged for sure. If she hadn't pulled her aim at the last moment, he might have."
The silver mech's head came up and around in an instant. "What's that? When was this?"
Swiftcast frowned. "Wait, you thought it was because of her prankster tendencies that he hated her? Well, it hasn't helped, but still . . . She never told you?"
Shadowblade fought against a scowl. "No. What happened?"
The warrior shrugged. "He never liked her much anyway. One day while she was training, Charger picked a fight with li'l Spark and egged her into sparring with him. She was losing, because it was straight-on fighting like this, and Charger went to knock her out. I came in just in time to see the end of the fight, and saw when something snapped in her CPU. That wasn't anger or any remote sense of calm in her optics, Blade. She was plain terrified. She had activated Last Resort on one arm and had it aimed at him before I could react, then something seemed to click in her. She pulled her shot just before it went off, and Charger was this close to getting hit. If she hadn't moved her arm, he would have been. Let me tell you, the damage that shot left in the wall was impressive. Ever since, Charger's hated her. For which of the involved factors, I'm not sure."
Shadowblade cycled air through his vents again. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Swiftcast shrugged again. "I thought she had. Sorry, Blade, I should've confirmed it."
"I should've dug deeper into why Charger acts that way toward her. Well, at least we know she can marginally control herself if we're too slow."
This time the brown mech nodded. "Yeah, there's that."
Jazz was scowling. "So that's why Charger's worse than Sunstreaker in the attitude department?"
"No." Shadowblade somehow found it in himself to smirk. "That's just him." Then that smirk died. "But I suppose that is why his attitude always gets even worse when Mute Spark's around. Slag it, if I had known . . ." He snapped his attention back to the sparring session in the ring. Ironhide was charging again, and Mute Spark's mental control had just failed, bringing her into what they called "assassin mode." How much longer until she panicked?
The SpecOps commander wasn't done yet, though. "But what is Last Resort?"
Swiftcast grinned despite it all. "A pair of freaky-powerful cannons."
"Really? What's it look like?"
Suddenly, Shadowblade launched himself over the barrier and sprinted toward his surrogate daughter and Ironhide. Behind him, Swiftcast pointed, all too calm for the circumstances. "Like that."
...
Mute Spark was rather surprised at how long she had held out so far. Surely this was a record for her. Certainly, it was a rather short amount of time for any normal person, but she was hardly normal. It didn't take long for her CPU to get out of whack, and deactivating her audio receptors had bought her so much more time in the scheme of things.
ALERT.
Bright red lights flashed across her vision, warning her to dodge a blow. She did, and the nearness of it rattled something within her. She no longer remembered what she had just been thinking, and her movements became more hesitant, more jerky. Worse still, she didn't remember why this was bad. Something was going on, but what?
A fist streaked by in front of her optics, and several panels began to flare. Someone was trying to hurt her! Her optics burned white at this realization, and any semblance of restraint disappeared. All that had been taught to her about fighting was put to use as she muted her energy signature, and she danced around the large red form attacking her. She wasn't a front-line fighter, so she knew she couldn't go head-on with anyone. However, the SpecOps team aboard the Celestial had taught her quite a few moves pertaining to assassination. Darn, but this Decepticon was fast . . .
Something didn't feel right with that thought, however. Why would a Decepticon be on the Celestial? Oh, no, they weren't being invaded, were they? Was that where everyone else was, fighting the Cons?
That thought quickly frayed whatever nerves she had remaining. She drew her energon blade, not knowing why she was fighting unarmed prior to that point, and slashed it at her attacker. The red form jumped back, then seized the wrist holding the blade. Panicking, she raised her left arm and charged Last Resort.
One glance up froze her arm where it was, however, the built-up charge remaining unreleased. Confused, but stern, blue optics stared back at her, their owner's mouth moving but giving off no sound. Blue optics, not red. And why couldn't she hear what he was saying? Oh, yes, she had her audio turned off. Something touched her shoulder, cautiously, and she turned, staring at her mech guardian's face.
A different sort of fear filled her, and Last Resort was deactivated in an instant, Mute Spark's blade dropping to the floor in tandem. She could have hurt him! Memory flooded back, and she curled up on herself, frame trembling as her wide optics stared at the floor. Shadowblade tapped one of her audio receivers, and she reluctantly turned them back on.
"It's okay, Mute Spark. He's fine. You didn't fire, he's safe. You didn't hurt him. It's not your fault. Shh . . ."
Mute Spark's sensors were hyper-sensitive right now, so she could feel Ironhide's frown as he stared at them, still holding the femme's wrist. "What," he asked slowly, "the slag was that."
The femme willed herself to stand straight and to stop shaking. Her expression was nothing short of remorseful, and she couldn't bring herself to meet the warrior's optics no matter how hard she tried. She made no move to take her wrist back, fearing the squad leader's reaction. =I'm sorry. I- It- I'm not sure what happens.=
Shadowblade placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a sharp look to Ironhide's hand. Taking the clue, the red mech released Mute Spark's limb and crossed his arms. "Shadowblade. Explain."
The silver mech cycled air through his vents. "I apologize for forgetting to inform you of this. Mute Spark never makes sound, and when sparring she tends to hold back. One noise too many made by her – or in cases like this, one close call too many – and she forgets where she is and who she's fighting. She thought you were a Decepticon, sir, until she saw your optics. When you grabbed her wrist, she determined she couldn't get away without firing Last Resort, the cannons in her forearms that are tied directly to her spark energy. They are draining but powerful, and could have seriously injured you had she not realized who you were and remembered what was happening. Usually I stop her, but apparently she often has enough control to stop herself from hitting a fellow Autobot."
Mute Spark looked up at her mech guardian and blinked in surprise at the proud look in his optics. What did he mean by that? And then she realized, with a glance at Swiftcast, that he knew about Charger. Any related thought she might have had, however, was derailed when Ironhide grunted. Wincing, she finally met his gaze, and was astonished at the lack of agression in it. =You're not mad.=
Ironhide rolled his optics. "You can't control reflex, femme, and I know you've got deep-buried ones."
=Basically, I've got problems.=
"If you want to put it that way, yes. But I will say this: when you started thinking of me as a Con, well, your skills definitely showed themselves. It was when you started actually panicking that they degenerated again. We'll need to work on that."
Mute Spark's optics narrowed. =What do you mean?=
"I mean, kid, that in future training we're going to be helping you to not fritz. And when sparring, don't hold back. At least, not against me. I can handle myself."
Slowly, Mute Spark nodded. That was it? After such a disaster as that, he wasn't going to do anything else?
In answer to this, Ironhide turned back to Shadowblade. "Your kid's got moves. Good job on that. Right, then, femme. Targeting evaluation. Since Shadowblade said that this 'Last Resort' is draining, then we won't mess with that until a medic besides yourself is present. Know how to use a sniper rifle?"
Mute Spark straightened, relieved. Did she! She wasn't Bluestreak, that was for sure – and she had watched him practice – but she was at least a half-decent shot. In a pinch, she could serve as a sniper, and had the advantage of being able to mute her energy signature. As long as she didn't have to fight anyone again, she could handle this. =Yes, sir,= she answered.
"Good. Of course, I should have known that, with your display in the little paint war last week. Er, half an orn ago. Right, then. Follow me, un-mute your energy signature, and we'll get started."
...
She did very well on the targeting evaluation, all things considered. There were more than a few missed shots, but the majority of them hit at least close to the bulls-eye. The following stealth test was aced, of course, in which she had to remain undetected by Jazz for ten breems. After that, she had to make contact with the back of his neck with one of her hands without him having noticed her approach. Having a certain ability, of course, made this much easier. Following this, she had to detect him within twenty breems; she completed it in five.
And then it was time to go to the command center. This was the part Mute Spark was dreading most of all. She had not seen Optimus Prime since the Celestial first landed, but she had heard many good stories about him. Even so, he and Prowl were the ones who would evaluate her mental condition, and if she would be allowed to serve in their ranks. She knew she would not be cast out, but it was their judgement that would decree whether she could do anything to help the Autobots, as opposed to sitting around on her aft as she had done ever since she had been found at Gamma Base. True, she had assisted in the Med Bay, but she had been taught skills and now she wanted to protect people, not just be protected herself. Yes, it was nice to be able to have someone to protect her, unlike most of her sparkling years, but she knew full well she was a veritable harbinger of death. Thus far, she had not been found, but they had found her at Gamma Base . . .
And that's enough of that for now. This was something that definitely needed thought over, but Mute Spark was well aware that now was not the time. One day soon she would have to warn her guardians what the Autobots had potentially brought upon themselves, but at the moment she was not ready. She couldn't even remember the Decepticon's name! And she knew he had to be a Decepticon, for only they had red optics. Only they had such a low regard for life.
That thought terrified her for a reason she knew she could not reveal anytime soon. Charger already hated her. Why give him even more reason? Unless . . . he already knew? He had always hated her, she remembered. This would bear investigating, when the time was right. For now, they were almost to the command center, and Shadowblade looked like he was about to say something.
She was right. "Just relax, kiddo. Everything will be fine, you'll see. We'll have to tell them about the risks in sparring against you, but they'll understand."
Mute Spark looked away. =I'm glitched.=
"No, you are not. You can work through this. It'll take time, but I know you can overcome it. I have confidence in you."
She looked up at his beaming face and offered a small smile of her own, reassured. She would overcome this, no matter how long it took. She was not glitched. One day, she would push past her fear of the nameless Decepticon and speak. Once that happened, a whole realm of possibilities would open up.
So why not now?
And then it was time to walk inside and face the music, as it were. That question, as always, would remain unanswered. At least for now.
A swift silence greeted the group of five as they entered the command center, as many as a dozen meches and femmes turning to stare at the door. No, not the door . . . At Mute Spark. She started to duck her head when she realized this, then stopped herself. What did it matter if they stared or not? If it was because of the incident half an orn ago, she well deserved those glares. No matter her intentions, she had also lied to commanding officers. That she was remorseful was points in her favor, but even so . . . No one was happy with her in this room.
Except, strangely, Optimus Prime and Prowl. That was to say, they weren't unhappy with her, and Prime had this strange bearing to him, as if he were amused. Prowl was impassive, but he had already said his piece earlier.
Shadowblade nudged Mute Spark forward, breaking her out of her reverie. The femme was nervous, there was no denying that. It wasn't often that she was self-conscious about her oddness, but this was one of those times. Sparklight had commented that the paint war had endangered the base. What would happen when everyone found out how she tended to panic while sparring, resulting sometimes in her opponent's near death? Sure, no one had been killed or even hit yet, but still . . .
Again, she had no chance to reflect further. Optimus Prime was approaching them, and she straightened, abandoning all appearances of nervousness. The look Prime gave her let the femme know he knew it was a mask. He, however, made no mention of it yet.
"Welcome to the command center. I feel I must congratulate you, Mute Spark, on your achievement last week."
Mute Spark blinked. =Achievement, sir?=
"Indeed. Granted, the game was immature in and of itself. Nor did you think through the consequences. However, you exhibited excellent characteristics and skills in this 'paint war' you and the three younglings participated in."
The femme could only stare at her commander in shock. What could he mean by that?
Prime leaned forward, conspiratorially. "It's not often you can surprise my soldiers, especially my second in command." Standing straight again, he gave the impression of a smile. "You were and are more mature than you realize, Mute Spark, more than many of my Autobots would have guessed. You feared punishment for your actions, did you not?"
Hesitantly, Mute Spark nodded. She had, at that.
"And yet you overcame that fear and participated anyway."
=But I was afraid of being alone, as well,= she told him, feeling it would be unfair to not mention that. However, he only shook his head.
"You could have gone to any number of Bots. Yet, instead of doing that, you joined the younglings. Next, you carried out a well thought out plan worthy of a sniper such as Bluestreak, or a tactician such as Prowl. No, let me finish. Only when the younglings were discovered did you reveal yourself, and you displayed immense courage in taking all the blame on yourself, fearing punishment as much as you did. You knew time alone in the brig was a possibility, and yet you did it anyway. Not only that, but you lied – successfully – to my command staff to do it. You were loyal to your compatriots, fiercely even. When your lie was revealed, you still did not betray them. It took an accurate guess by Prowl and a flinching youngling to have the matter told."
Mute Spark blinked. =I do not understand. I lied, and yet you say this is good?=
"No." Prime shook his head. "From this point onward, I would hope that you never lie to us again. But the reason for your lying, the skill you pulled it off with . . . Stronger warriors have not been able to lie convincingly as you did. Some would envy you for that."
=Oh . . .=
"I'm told you get rather focused when on the job."
=Yes. Others call them "modes" or "mindsets." On that subject, sir, I think I should warn you about-=
"We know," Optimus Prime interrupted her. "Red Alert told us there was an 'interesting development' in the training room. We saw it all, and even heard Shadowblade's explanation. This is not a mark against you, Mute Spark. And the focus you gain when in certain situations is beneficial. Not being distracted is an excellent trait in a medic. As you are not fit for open combat, you will of course always need an escort when leaving the safety of the Ark."
The femme stared in surprise at the large mech as she realized the meaning of his words. With a nod, he confirmed her thoughts.
"You are ready for official duty as a medic in the Autobot ranks. As Prime, even though you have been inducted already, let me officially and formally welcome you to the Autobots. Your supervisor will be Ratchet, whom I believe you've met once already. Report to him in two joors. He will be expecting you."
Quivering in excitement, Mute Spark saluted. =Thank you, sir!= She was grinning broadly, barely able to stay still.
Optimus Prime laughed. "You're welcome. You are dismissed."
The newly official medic exploded from her spot like a bullet from a barrel. =Come on, Shadowblade!= she cheered excitedly, seizing his hand as she passed. =Wait till Flareup hears this!=
Shadowblade laughed as he was dragged along. Just as he had thought, everything was going to be just fine.
...
Prowl gave an uncommon smile as Mute Spark dragged her mech guardian out of the command center. "She is certainly an odd one."
Prime nodded in agreement. "So skilled, yet so vulnerable. So many mindsets, and always the same fears."
"The Aerial Bots terrified her until she realized that they didn't look like Seekers, and that they weren't."
"There were Seekers at the attack on Gamma Base, then."
"Recount reported there was one still there when Swift's and Shadowblade's squads swept through."
"Hmm. Why doesn't she speak?"
"You know as well as I, Prime, that she won't reveal that until she's ready. Is this the best idea, letting her work full-time like this?"
Prime nodded. "We need her. She needs to know that she is needed. She needs to know that she has a place among us, no matter what problems she has. She also needs to know that she is not going to be abandoned to whatever fate she thinks she has."
Prowl turned to give the Autobots working in the control center a sharp look, as they had been whispering among themselves. Startled and chastised, they hurriedly went back to their work. "That," he said with an acknowledging gesture, "is logical. And what fate, I wonder, is that?"
Optimus Prime frowned behind his battle mask. "I'm afraid that might only be answered with time."
Thus concludes Evaluation
Continued in Mission One: Meet Your Supervisor
Vorn = 83 years
Orn = 13 days
Joor = 6.5 hours
Breem = 8.3 minutes
Klick = 1.2 minutes
Images of Mute Spark and Shadowblade are on my deviantART account.
Continued from Shadow of Doubt, Hope for The Future.
Volt and Sparklight (mentioned) belong to Shioji-san
Flareup, Shadowblade, Mute Spark, Charger, and Swiftcast belong to me (FuzzySlipper)