Demands of Life 10: Unspoken Rules
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::RED ALERT:: Jazz roared over his comm, his rage burning hot as he glided through the halls of the Ark, fury radiating off of him and clearing the way before him.
::Yes?:: The security director's response was immediate, startled, and very afraid. Jazz had not spoken to him directly since he had asked him to track down his mate when Prowl had hidden from him.
::Ultra Magnus. Where is he?:: Jazz demanded, tone giving no room for argument.
::The tactical center,:: came the immediate response, Red Alert utterly relieved it was someone else about to face the TIC's wrath. As far as Red Alert was concerned, it was well deserved too. He'd seen it all, the confrontation in Prowl's office. They were new cameras, well hidden and installed only with the permission of the Prime at Ratchet's request. They all knew that he'd keep a very good watch over the unstable carrier and alert Ratchet should anything need attending to.
The situation had angered Red Alert as well, and if Prowl had not removed himself when he had Red Alert would have been calling Jazz and Ratchet to come rescue him and the sparkling he carried.
::Let me know if he moves.:: Jazz ordered, interrupting the security director's musing and changing his course, taking the most direct route to the tactical center. His mate's domain. Currently being invaded by an intruder who had committed a serious offense.
Jazz slipped into the room, advancing on the large mech without any apparent fear. "What do you think you are doing?" He growled aggressively.
The big convoy class mech looked down at him with a slightly confused expression on his normally stern features. "My function. Planning the best use of our forces."
"And pushing Prowl into a meltdown is 'best use of our forces'?" Jazz hissed, armor fluffed in a manner to make him appear as intimidating as possible. "Part of you being here is to try and prevent that from happening."
"He was fine when he stalked out of his office to end the debate he was losing," Ultra Magnus huffed disdainfully. "No wonder you needed me here."
"He is working to end this war. A goal we have even more reason to achieve if we have any hope of survival. I know all of this was explained to you." Jazz countered.
Ultra Magnus glared at Jazz, not at all intimidated by a mech who knew more ways to hide bodies than most warriors knew how to kill. "What part of 'he was fine when he left' are you having difficulty with?"
Jazz vented abruptly, frame quivering in anger. "For someone who is supposed to be such a skilled commander, I would have thought you would have noticed when you had pushed a mech to their breaking point. You pushed him past that point. And Primus help me, if you ever do that again the only thing that anyone will be able to find will be the trophy I take for my wall, friend of the Prime or not."
The visible rage had vanished, draining away as Jazz spoke, until all that was left was a cold field full of deadly promise that the speaker meant every word leaving his mouth.
"Prowl and I have never seen optic to optic, on anything," Ultra Magnus scowled. He very much believed the mech before him was capable of carrying out his threat, but the idea of the TIC threatening the CTO was almost enough to crash him. Instead he shoved it into a side thread to bring up with Prime soon.
"A fact I am well aware of." Jazz replied, still just as cool. He had made no effort to hide his courtship of the Praxian, and had actually taken a quiet pride in the fact that he had Prowl as his mate, and that everyone knew it. "But the point of bringing you in was two-fold. To protect the Autobots, and to help Prowl. You accepted that mission. Think about that, the next time you are at odds with him."
"He stepped down from a tactical position," Ultra Magnus reminded him just as coolly. "He knows even better than I do how much he's slipping because of his condition and he called me in because he is no longer an adequate chief tactician. He should keep that in mind the next time he decides to argue my tactics. He called me in knowing I do not run a battlefield or war the way he does." He drew a deep vent in. "I will try not to argue with him. You try to keep your mate from demanding that I run tactical his way. I've proven my worth on Cybertron all these vorns."
"I will speak to him. And maybe Prime will as well." Jazz stopped, considering the current CTO. "If you find yourself in that situation again, call me. I will remove him before it escalates too badly." He finally offered. Prowl was his chief concern, and he would sacrifice anything, even his pride, to keep Prowl safe and functioning.
Ultra Magnus inclined his helm in understanding and acceptance as his field smoothed out. "I will. I do not wish harm to your creation." He offered, a small hit to his own pride but worth it if it brought a bit more peace to a difficult command.
Jazz just barely hid his start at the phrasing. He managed a polite nod of his helm, then let himself out of the tactical center.
His warning was delivered, a future repeat hopefully avoided, and now all he wanted to do was return to his mate and check that Prowl was safe and settled. He'd left Prowl curled up on their berth recharging the net results of the emotional chaos away. It was something Prowl had learned early in his functioning. What he couldn't process directly he could often cope with in defrag. Or at least settle it into a state where he could cope with it directly.
Just thinking about the state of his mate revved Jazz's engine again, but he throttled it back. It did no good to be angry now. He needed to be calm to helm Prowl be calm. Prowl did hate to lose even more than most mecha, but what was really traumatizing him was how easily he lost now. It was a condition Jazz could sympathize with. Though he didn't understand how Prowl could be so obsessed with victory and have no personal ambition worth mentioning, he understood enough about the loss of ability though.
A fresh flash of rage towards the Security Director and his mate raced through him before he got that under control at his door. He opened the door and crossed the room to his mate, settling on the berth and wrapping his arms carefully around his mate, his own field centered and calm. He would stay here as long as Prowl needed to process, or until it was time to refuel.
He didn't hide the small, grateful thrill he felt when Prowl nuzzled into the embrace and seemed to relax, taking comfort in Jazz's mere presence. As bad as the situation was, Jazz could be thankful of that. Yes, Prowl had been hurt, badly, by events, but his trust in his mate hadn't wavered.
It felt good for them both.
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The twins walked down the hall, scuffed and scraped and clearly resigned to their fate. This was a familiar walk for them, even if it wasn't for their current companion. The trip to Prowl's office for one offense or another was an annual event. Usually they had meant to cause trouble. For once this time they actually hadn't.
A little bit of trash talk had led to a challenge, and that challenge just hadn't made it to the training room, as the broken tables and scars on the wall in the rec room demonstrated.
It had been more than a little fun while it lasted, and Sideswipe glanced at his twin, unable to hide a smile at the contentment that was still spilling off the golden mech. The one reason that Sunstreaker would endanger his pristine finish was a good fight, and this one had been more than satisfactory. Maybe they could arrange something with Drift once they had finished serving whatever sentence Prowl was going to dole out this time.
Their calmness aided Drift's calm, not that he would show his unease at the first punishment from a new commander. In his experience they were often overly harsh, as if they were trying to make him pay for what he'd done as Deadlock, but couldn't thanks to Prime's pardon once he'd taken on the Autobot brand. He wasn't the first Decepticon to go Autobot, but he was by far the highest ranked one, and easily the most well known for slaughter.
It had been an honest surprise when the taunting by the twins, mechs he had faced several times as Deadlock, had turned into something good. The sparring, despite the unapproved location, left all three of them in a good mood, their fields humming with a kind of sated pleasure that only war-frames produced.
The twins pinged the door, announcing their arrival, and flicked a bit of surprise across their fields when it didn't immediately open. It was only a ten nanoklik delay, but it was noticeable, especially given Prowl was alone when they entered.
The Praxian sighed and made a small motion for the three to stand in front of his desk. "What do you have to say for yourselves?" he focused on Sideswipe first.
"Well, we feel better. And we didn't hurt anyone else." Sideswipe mused, his optics sweeping over Prowl and noting the small changes in the Praxian. They might end irritated with Prowl as the main disciplinarian of the Ark crew, but both of the twins did respect him as the tactical mind and commanding officer that he was.
And Sideswipe at least was familiar enough with the Praxian's usual manner to notice the small things that were off. The way that Prowl's doorwings moved just a little more than usual. The added layer of weariness that seemed to weight on his normally impeccable posture. The nanoklik of slowness between thought and action.
He didn't even have to look at his twin to know that Sunstreaker had noticed all of this as well, and probably things that were escaping Sideswipe's notice. That was part of what made the two of them so effective. They were not perfect mirrors of each other, as so many seemed to think. There were halves of a whole, and that whole equaled more than any single mech could ever hope to be with two sets of sensors and processors and frames to use all they gathered.
"And the reason you could not make it to the training rooms before attempting to tear each other apart?" Prowl asked. It was a long-familiar routine, the only unusual element was that the third member of the scuffle was just as much at fault as the twins.
"The chance was too good to wait?" Sideswipe suggested, and Sunstreaker smirked beside him. Neither of them would admit that an audience made a good fight that much better, and there had been an enthusiastic cheering section this time around.
Prowl scowled at them, then shifted his intense gaze to Drift, who didn't so much as twitch under it. "Drift, what is your side of this?"
Being addressed by designation was surprising to the swordsmech, but he didn't show much. "A willing participant."
Prowl waited for more, then shifted back to the twins when it became apparent that nothing more was forthcoming. He pulled out a datapad from his desk and made a bit of a show of skimming it to cover his need to comm his mate. ::Jazz, I need a new punishment for Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. Brawling in the rec room, property damage.::
::I thought I had heard something about a very entertaining show going on there. Didn't have time to make it down there before it was broken up.:: Jazz hummed over the link. ::How much damage?::
::Two tables, a chair and cosmetic wall damage,:: Prowl replied. ::I'm sure it was 'interesting' given it involved both of them and Drift. According to Drift, it was completely mutual on all parts. I'm inclined to believe him, even though the twins were taunting him.::
::So how bad do you want to punish them? They could clean the rec room from top to bottom. And since Sunstreaker is involved, maybe go ahead and have them repaint it. It's needed it for a while.:: Jazz suggested.
Prowl hummed thoughtfully. ::That is suitable. Thank you.:: He closed the comm. "The three of you will clean the rec room completely. Every surface, every item. You will also repaint it. If I find anything I do not approve of when you are finished, you will begin again and the enlisted washracks will be added to your punishment. Understood?"
Sideswipe had to catch himself, and felt Sunstreaker do the same. Prowl was usually fair- they were both willing to admit that- but fighting in a public place was something that he tended to frown on more. This wasn't bad as punishments went. Just very boring and time consuming. He could feel from his other side just how startled Drift was, though his expressional showed nothing.
"Understood." The red mech answered as his twin nodded in agreement.
"Yes sir," Drift inclined his helm, perfectly controlled and holding his relief at the punishment. He'd honestly been expecting to be tossed into the hole, and the twins given something lighter, probably brig time.
"Dismissed," Prowl told all three of them, his attention once more on his terminal before they even walked out.
When the door closed behind them, Drift dared to ask. "What surprised you?"
"Prowl's fair, but he's off too. He doesn't normally go that lightly on public brawling. Cleaning is normal, but I was expecting two to three times as much to do." Sideswipe explained.
"And he usually goes out of his way to give you something that you really aren't going to enjoy." Sunstreaker grumbled. "I still haven't forgotten the time we had to reorganize the storerooms under Perceptor's instruction."
Sideswipe shuddered. "What were you expecting? I teeked how startled you were."
Drift shrugged a long spaulder. "I was expecting the hole, with brig time for you two."
The pair turned to look at him. "Is that what you are used to?" Sideswipe finally asked.
"Before Magnus," he nodded and shrugged again. "Most really don't like me."
The pair shuddered. "Well, the brig is probably the worst you'll find here. And the worst thing about that is how processor numbing nothing but orange walls and energy bars can be." Sideswipe finally said as he started walking again. "And we might as well get started. The faster we get this done to Prowl's standards, the sooner we can do something interesting. At least we already know where the paint is."
"I take it he's more creative than most about punishments?" Drift asked as he followed along. "Once we're done, maybe we can visit the training rooms?"
"Creative...or practical." Sideswipe said, considering. "If he can put you to work doing something that he considers productive it's a better use of resources in his processor. Hence us cleaning the rec room top to bottom. We've done the store rooms in the past. And the enlisted wash racks is a common one."
"And one that he always seems to time for right after Hound and Beachcomber have been on some extended mission." Sunstreaker griped.
Sideswipe merely snickered at his twin before smiling at Drift. "And yes, after we're done, I'm sure we can find an open training room. Or at least some place that won't land our afts back in Prowl's office twice in the same day."
"That is going to take some getting used to," Drift grumbled. "Three point two joors." He shook his helm. "So short a cycle."