Part Seven
"Good afternoon, cadets," Prowl addressed the assembled group before him. Nobody moved to acknowledge the black and white as they stood at attention in perfect line formation.
Prowl did not pace back and forth in front of the column like most officers, but stood still and tall, letting his strong voice carry his words. "Thus far you have been under the tutelage of Ironhide to gain basic combat skills. For the next section of your basic training, you shall be under my command as I direct you into a series of battle situations. Eventually you will be separated into smaller…"
Try as he might, Mirage could not find it in himself to give the dull newcomer any more of his attention. This was a complete waste of his time. All this had been covered at the Academy where he had gone following the attack of his home.
If he had his way, the young nobleman would be home still, not at this cesspool for every type of mech imaginable. He'd loved his life as a neutral at the upper crust of society. His friends, his glorious spires, the turbo-fox hunts… that's where he belonged. Not here taking orders from a motley group of officers underneath this new mysterious Prime about whom Mirage knew little to nothing.
Beside him, a young red and ebony mech shifted in excitement. His eagerness to be in combat was all but palpable. Mirage resisted the urge to sigh. What was he doing here? Leave the fight to the tall ruffian beside him and his absolutely barbaric brother. They were built for this. He was not. He was an intellectual, not a warrior. Give him a problem to solve, something to read. Anything but playing in the mud with a bunch of assembly line thugs.
He registered absently that they were currently being given a battle situation and should head to the field for further instructions. Many of the other cadets eagerly did so and the young noble had to step gingerly around a few mini-bots to avoid harming them. Shaking his head, he turned around and went in the opposite direction. Whoever designed bots beneath waist height was not functioning with a full processor, that was for sure.
"An' where d'yeh think yo' goin'?" the stern drawl of Ironhide halted his movements. Mirage turned back around to face his superior, remaining silent. At this mad house he learned that whether or not you spoke, you would be yelled at. Would it honestly deactivate anyone to be polite for once?
Ironhide, however, did not appreciate this young upstart ignoring him. "Ah asked yeh a question, cadet," he growled. Prowl swiftly approached, seeing the red mech bristle dangerously.
"Is there a problem?" he asked calmly, putting a white hand on his friend's shoulder. Serene blue optics met Mirage's, asking him as much as the other officer.
"This cadet," Ironhide stressed the title as though to remind Mirage of his place, "was jus' goin' t' tell meh why he thought th' field was in th' barracks."
"What's your name?" Prowl asked of the blue and white mech.
"My name is Mirage… Sir," he added the last bit seeing Ironhide's hard stare.
"Mirage," Prowl repeated to himself for memory. Then louder, "where are you from, Mirage?"
"The towers of Iacon," Mirage answered, not particularly wanting to talk about what he'd lost. But perhaps this new officer would understand his plight where Ironhide had fallen short. He certainly looked more intelligent. "I was a neutral there when we were attacked."
Ironhide nodded to his story. "He came with a group o' refugees a coupla months ago. Li'l punk thinks he's royalty even without 'is castle."
"You came through the accelerated program, didn't you?" Prowl continued, ignoring his friend's comments and Mirage's sudden bristling in response.
"That's correct," the young nobleman answered. Finally, someone who understood and who would treat him with the respect he deserved. Prowl would see that he didn't belong here with all these ruffians.
"I am sorry for your loss, and I realize that all this must be very new to you."
This was it. He was going to be allowed to leave. They would offer him another alternative to joining the military.
"But you must understand that we are training everyone to be warriors here. You cannot break formation when you please."
"I was not breaking formation," Mirage cried in indignation. While certainly much more patient than the other officers, it seemed that Prowl was no less apathetic to his situation.
"Yeh were headin' in th' wrong direction, cadet," Ironhide retorted as though to an infant with a malfunctioning processor. How humiliating.
"I did not have my rifle with me and my canister is not filled with adequate energon. One does not enter combat unequipped, am I right, Sir?" Mirage replied haughtily. He knew the rules just like any of the brass. It wasn't his fault he had thought of proper procedure and the other ruffians hadn't.
He was entirely taken off guard when Ironhide threw back his rustic head and laughed. Even Prowl had a look of amusement on his composed face, the hint of a smile on his lips.
"Oh that's rich, kid!" the red bot howled. "Real rich! An' yeh think th' 'Cons are gonna let yeh do all that on th' battlefield?"
"Despite what you have learned during your quick stay at the Academy, real life rarely follows protocol. You are to be ready at a moment's notice, and that is what your instructors were trying to instill in you. You must always be fully equipped, even when you do not expect combat. Just like today," Prowl explained, the smile finally breaking through. Mirage had never been the source of someone's entertainment before and he found he did not like it at all.
"I'll remember that, thank you." Couldn't they just let him be already? He still hadn't gotten his gun yet and he hated to have his time wasted. "Now if you'll excuse me, Sir, I must go and…"
"Th' only place you 'must go' to is to that darned field," Ironhide shook his head, physically steering him away from the barracks. "Gun o' no gun, yo' in a combat situation. Now git!"
Mirage pulled away, curling his lip in extreme annoyance. He hated to be touched by anyone. Even his friends back home he wouldn't come in direct contact with unless he had to. His personal space was very precious to him and the fact that Ironhide had so easily invaded that added insult to injury. "But how am I to fight with no weapon?" he demanded, not even caring to sound polite this time.
"I expect," the newer officer intervened before a fight could break out, "that this will teach you not to leave your weapon behind again. Besides, there are other ways to win a fight that don't involve a gun. Go to the field and fight with the yellow team by the barrels. Your target is to capture the other team's flag."
A silly game ordinarily played by infants? This was his 'military combat training?' Of all the inane…
"Yes, Sir," he sighed in defeat. There was nothing he could do but suffer through it and hope it was all over soon. How glad he was that his friends weren't here to see this.
The yellow team, it turned out, consisted of most of the mini-bots, a silver young thing who looked ready to shake apart, a short green bot who looked like he was having the time of his life, a blue and red bot who seemed lost in his own little world, and some blue fop who wailed at every dent and scratch.
Joy and rapture.
With no weapon and very little desire to wrestle with the much larger brothers who looked much too happy at beating the living manifold out of their opponents, Mirage spent a large amount of time dodging incoming shots. His team wasn't exactly elite by any stretch of the imagination. He knew he had to do something quickly if he didn't want to look like he'd been mugged on the streets.
About 20 cycles into this exercise, he'd found that while the little silver one would often freeze up, when he didn't he was the best shot they had. Therefore, he chose to stick by him, feeling more and more frustrated at his own inability to do anything. He wasn't a bad shot himself, but how was he to prove that if the lousy brass wouldn't let him shoot!
Just to add insult to injury, dear little Bluestreak, Mirage discovered his name to be, while a fantastic shot did not take into account that there was only so much ammo to be had. It appeared that he had not expected to be using his gun that day either. Great. With ammo nearly out, mini-bots dropping like turbo-foxes, and the red and blue knocked out 10 cycles in, there seemed to be no end to their problems. Surely all combat situations weren't so bad, right?
Despite the rather heroic efforts of the little ones, surprisingly good skills of the blue whiner, and the stubbornness of the green one, Mirage found his team suddenly attacked all at once. They wouldn't stand a chance. True, the guns were only loaded with stunners, but the fists, staffs, and knives were all real. And the two brothers at the head of the charge were both very skilled and eager at using all three.
But Mirage saw a weakness in their attack and knew how he might be of service. It was actually the blue and red bot who gave him the idea when he used some strange thick black smoke to blind his enemies. Powerful the other team may be, but when they couldn't see, they were helpless as sparklings.
Why hadn't he thought of it before? After all, it had been what saved his life when the towers fell and nearly everyone killed. The enemy couldn't kill what it couldn't see.
So they thought he was some spoiled prince did they? Well he would show them that this prince could still hold his own. "Good luck, Bluestreak," he said by way of departure. The young mech looked up at him with alarm, thinking that his companion was going to abandon him. Well he was in a way, but hopefully Mirage's plan would work and no one else need be hurt.
Right before the gunner's optics, the young nobleman disappeared as though he was never there. He thought it was a trick of the suns or perhaps his own processor, but sure enough, there were footprints where no body stepped.
Leaving behind the boy, Mirage headed right toward the two ringleaders of the opposing team. Strong brutes though they were, they couldn't outwit him surely. As expected, once he'd quietly pilfered a fallen bot's rifle, they didn't stand a chance. He'd knocked them both out of the game before they could comprehend what was going on. One by one, the enemy tried to fight off this mysterious ghost assassin. And one by one they fell. With a final roundhouse kick to a stocky black warrior, the enemy was defeated and the flag was retrieved.
"Cease fire!" Prowl called out from behind the fence. As everyone remaining was too exhausted to do otherwise, they obeyed as they struggled to circulate enough air into their systems. Once the command came to fall in, it was all the cadets could do to form a half-way decent line formation. Those that were still conscious that was.
Ironhide entered the area first, followed by Prowl and one other bot, probably another officer. Deciding that he'd much rather not get yelled at again for some imaginary transgression, Mirage remained invisible.
Mentally taking attendance, Ironhide's optics narrowed. Meanwhile, Prowl addressed the company. "Would someone explain what just happened?"
The two brutes Mirage had taken out first started babbling about a phantom assailant. Others who had also regained consciousness did the same. Mirage sighed. Imbeciles.
"Oy!" Ironhide interrupted the mass confusion. "Where's the little princling?"
Princling!
"I'm here," he answered sullenly, shimmering into sight at the head of the formation. A number of the bots around him jumped in surprise.
Prowl stepped forward, raising a hand to silence his angrily sputtering colleague. "You are able to become invisible at will?" he asked in the same taciturn manner that it seemed he always spoke. Was he blind? Of course he could become invisible at will!
"Yes," was all he said. Then remembered himself. "Sir."
Nodding, the officer waved over a newer bot with similar markings, and a visor over his optics. He'd come to watch the battle a few cycles after it had begun. Ironhide walked over as well. Together the three bots held a short conference occasionally shooting a glance at Mirage or another cadet.
"Very well," Prowl said when they were finished and his two colleagues had once again wandered off to the side. "When I call your names, you will report in to the officer indicated. More training sessions will be held in the future in order to determine specialties, but we feel some of you belong in different units for the time being."
Mirage, it turned out, was ordered to report to an officer named 'Jazz.' As the only officer present not yet known was the one with the visor, the Iacon mech thought it safe to assume that this was him. He walked over to the officer, passing by all those whose collective afts he kicked, not without an air of victory.
This 'Jazz' person was currently engaged in an enthusiastic pow wow with one of the mini-bots who hadn't been taken down during the supposed war game. A surprise too since there was no missing the bright yellow plating that made up his exterior.
Mirage observed the new black and white as he approached. Well, if anything, this one looked approachable at least.
"M'name's Jazz," the new officer greeted jovially, a broad grin on his face. How old was this one? He knew the war had forced many young mechs into higher positions, but this was a bit ridiculous!
"Mirage," he returned evenly, cautiously. So far he'd struck out with all the other officers and was in no mood to do the same with this one.
"Well, Mirage, looks like you'll be workin' with me and Bumblebee here. He'll be learnin' th' finer points of spy work too." Little Bumblebee gave a large friendly smile, the excitement in him all but palpable.
Wonderful. He was now stuck with a boy-officer and a bubbly yellow mini-bot.
How… cute.
Hopefully this boy officer would acknowledge his skill and move him to a better position. Intelligence work sounded interesting at least. Much more so than regular grunt work. Leave the thug stuff to the thugs. Intelligence required finesse, a certain educated touch that most couldn't come near.
"Alright then," Jazz was saying to him. "Th' whole invisible thing was sweet, especially since no one saw it comin'. But now they know your little trick so you can't use surprise again. In battle, th' 'Cons will figure it out pretty quick too, an' they won't forget either."
Very well, that was fair. And the praise?
"Now the attacks themselves were way too sloppy. You ever even hold a weapon before?"
Oh Primus…
Murphy's Law of Warfare: For every action there is an equal and opposite criticism… in boot camp.
A/N: This one was taken heavily from my own experiences as an Air Force cadet. It seemed no matter how hard we pushed ourselves or what we did, we were still wrong! Lol, I could have used an invisibility device more than once!
Review!
MariaShadow: Gotta love siblings, eh? They're not always each other's best friend, sometimes they just wanna slag each other. Thank you for all the encouragement, I did have much inspiration while I took care of the ankle-biters. I met two people from New Zealand while there as half the staff were foreign. I love you Kiwis, you're so much fun : D Now I say jandals instead of flip-flops!
TruebornChaos: I just received your email. It was brilliant, thank you! I'll be sure to send mine along soon, though it won't be as long unfortunately. The little comic was great too! Oh brothers… what can you do with them? Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Flyby Stardancer: lol of course he is, he's Sunny! But it is true no matter how much they deny it. Gotta love the boys!
PuraJazzBot: lol, I'll just answer all your reviews at once. It's good to hear from you again! 1: Oh definitely! Just don't call him a softie to his face, he'd go all MV on you! 3: He's such a sweetie I can't help but love him : ) There's not enough Blue stories out there, we need some more! 4: But that really was a big screw up, even for the fearless leaders. I assume he'd have to write things down in a hurry so I doubt his handwriting is exactly calligraphy. 5: I think he'd actually try coming across as Prowl with a whole 'we don't have time to fool around. The enemy could be moving from their positions…' Something like that. I doubt he'd get very far anyway. YOU try lecturing Prowl. 6: Oh the smiles we get from their misfortunes…
HunterBlues: The Constructicons aren't stupid after all and the twins weren't exactly little stealth-masters : D And yes, they're always great whether they're being good or bad. Lol, point taken. I saw a great picture once, I can't remember who drew it, of Prowl being paranoid at all his, er, feminine following with Jazz wondering just what there was to complain about. The next chapter will hopefully be up before I leave on Thursday, I didn't get it finished over the summer though I did make a good dent in it. Oh, and thank you for the review on 'Healing Hands!' I really appreciate it. I don't even know what it is that bugs me either. Lol, oh well! It's all good!
Tiamat1972: lol I'm glad you enjoyed it! 'What a pair' is right! Poor Pinch won't know what hit him by the time they're done with him. And Prowl seems to enjoy it so much too… I figured Sides would do what we all do when we get one too many lectures and just zone out. Well Sunny wants to make sure he does his job properly of course ; ) LMAO, I love that quote, it's so true to them!
SapphireStars: Thank you, I'm glad you enjoy it. And you're a fan of X-Men: Evo and Inuyasha? You are automatically one of the coolest people ever!
AngelMouse5: Thank you, and welcome to the show if this is your first visit : ) Gotta love the Bee, that's a given!
Blazer-6: Hm, Blaster's cassettes? That would be fun. However, I don't know very much about them. If you could give me the info I'd be sure to get on it right away!
Turbomagnus: I aim to please : D