Disclaimer: Hasbro and Cartoon Network owns TFA. All additional culture references, locations, et cet, belong to their rightful owners. I own the story.
Chapter 10: Training Session
You call that a punch? Macbeth demanded. It's sloppy and loose! You're wasting energy in starting it, but you let it just go all over the place by the time it actually hits your target. Stiffen your arm, firm your muscles—or whatever you have for them—and don't let your arm just go limp like that after you hit, so you can be ready for the next one!
"Shut up!!!" Hot Head Blitzwing snarled, leaving the punching dummy alone to clutch his head. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! I have been fighting for eons longer than you have, human, I know how to fight!"
I've been training rich parents' brats to fight for the past eight years and they fight better than you, Macbeth sneered.
If he was this moody to the giant robot he was stuck in, could one imagine how he could get to the aforementioned brats?
Blitzwing emitted an angry roar as he slammed one of his fists into the punching dummy. Sparks flew from the metal knuckles and equally metal figure as it swayed back on its pole, only to snap back and slam into Blitzwing. Blitzwing stumbled back and fell onto his back end emitting a machine cough-snarl in rage. Although the other personalities showed no outward sign of it, Macbeth felt a weepy dart of humiliated frustration dart through the Blitzwing personalities and blinked in surprise.
Odd, he wondered in his private mind space. Did I just upset him? Well, I suppose that would make sense, considering that he prides himself as a warrior. To be bested by an inferior race's off spring would be too much. I'll let off of the idiot for now.
Get up, Macbeth ordered. And try again. You're too good to just focus on touching your fists on something. Actually put some force and damage behind your punches, control them, and you'll do better.
Now he felt a quick, puffy bubble of pride cross through Blitzwing as Hot Head got back to his feet and punched the dummy again. Either Blitzwing was starting to let his guard down around Macbeth, or Macbeth was starting to feel Blitzwing's emotions. It was somewhat odd and felt rudely invasive, but Macbeth decided that as long as Blitzwing didn't officially bring up the subject, he would not mention the emotion feeling.
"Still having a rough time with the human in your glitch filled processor, Blitzwing?" Blackarachnia cackled.
Blitzwing looked up from the dummy and at the balcony level lining the training chamber they were in. Blackarachnia was sitting on the railing of the balcony, legs crossed and smirking down at Blitzwing. Macbeth couldn't help but feel a tinge of attraction at the slim limbs, the cool light reflections, and the wonderfully feminine frame, but forced himself to set aside the feelings. Not only where they two (or three, considering her situation) different species, but they were in a training session and he hated distractions in a training session.
If she is not joining us in a training session, then she should either keep her mouth shut or leave, Macbeth growled. Distractions are not welcome when I'm teaching.
"Who said you're teaching?" Hot Head Blitzwing muttered, punching the training dummy.
Well, you're taking my tips, aren't you? Macbeth chuckled.
Hot Head's face fell in surprise and he stepped back from the dummy. In their black void, Hot Head stepped away from the control area and Cold stepped in. Hot Head began to massage his arms in the mental representation void while Cold, oddly enough, mimicked the same motion in the physical world as he turned and looked up at Blackarachnia.
"If you insist on being a distraction, then why don't you come down here and train or leave?" Cold Blitzwing asked with a tone as frozen as his name sake.
"Offer accepted," Blackarachnia said and dropped down from the balcony.
"Oh, great," Blitzwing muttered, stepping back from Blackarachnia as she landed in a crouching position in front of him.
No powers, Macbeth said.
Who said that you're making the rules?? Hot Head demanded.
"No powers," Cold told Blackarachnia.
WHAT!?
"I'm game for that," Blackarachnia snickered.
Blackarachnia suddenly leaped high over Blitzwing's head, crossing her arms like a mummy across her chest as she spun around and flipped over Blitzwing, landing behind him. Blitzwing turned and brought up his arms to block off Blackarachnia's first two strikes. Blackarachnia retreated her arms and kicked high up at Blitzwing's face. He caught the heeled foot and spun it, flipping Blackarachnia through the air. She kept herself from hitting the floor by hand springing off the floor and doing a back flip away from Blitzwing, landing in a crouching position.
Good, good, Macbeth approved. Watch for her flexibility!
Blitzwing punched at Blackarachnia, crouching to get to her level, but she easily slithered under and to the side of his punch before standing up, weaving over his arm to get a direct punch at Blitzwing's face.
Left hand up! Macbeth shouted.
Blitzwing complied and succeeded in catching Blackarachnia's hand. She attempted to pull out, but Blitzwing held onto it as he stood up, making Blackarachnia stand with him. Blackarachnia squeaked in pain as she struggled to pull her hand from Blitzwing's grasp.
That's enough, Blitzwing, you got her, Macbeth said. Let go.
"Round one goes to me," Blitzwing said. He released Blackarachnia, giving her a small shove as he stepped back. Cold Blitzwing stepped away from the mental control and Random stepped in, switching the faces as need be on the external body so that the jack-o-lantern face was in control.
"Let's do round two!" Random chuckled.
This time it was Blitzwing who made the first move. He darted forward and made to tackle Blackarachnia. Blackarachnia stepped aside, but Random Blitzwing did not tumble, but land easily and spin around, using the full force of his spin and shoulder to slam a fist into Blackarachnia's side and slam her into a wall.
"Woot! Round two goes to personality number two!" Random cheered, punching the air and jumping. He flashed the peace sign with both hands.
Random that was too harsh! Macbeth snarled, It's only a training exercise!
"Oh, chill out, Macbeth," Random chuckled, "She is fine, see? She is getting up!"
Indeed, Blackarachnia was getting up, but slowly and while clutching her side. Her face said she was in pain, but she clearly managed to crack a smile.
"So, the human's name is Macbeth, eh?" she grunted through her pain. "Well, Macbeth, my name is Blackarachnia, and since I lost this round, I want to fight you in the next one."
*What???* all the Blitzwing exclaimed.
"Sure," Blackarachnia huffed, standing tall and facing Blitzwing while clutching her side. "Just a quick little fight to see how well a fleshling fights in a Transformer body."
"Absolutely not!" Hot Head snarled, taking control of the body, "I want this thing out of my head! I am not letting it use my body!"
Tell her that I decline the invitation for combat, Macbeth told Cold Blitzwing. She is injured and the terms of my peaceful existence in you forbids me from taking control of your body.
Blackarachnia watched as Hot Head's face disappeared in a blur of moving parts—a process that set even the hardiest mech off ease—and saw Cold Blitzwing's monocle face stare at her next.
"Macbeth declines the invitation on the ground that you are injured and our house rules of my body forbid him from using the body."
He tilted his head to the side and grimaced as Macbeth added something else. Sighing, he rolled his optics, but leaned forward and held a hand out to Blackarachnia.
"But he insists that I be a gentle-mech and escort you to the medical bay as an apology for injuring you," he added.
Blackarachnia smirked. "Put the Random personality out again."
Blitzwing complied and Blackarachnia punched him in the face, knocking him clear onto his back.
"I feel better now," Blackarachnia hissed before limping out of the room.
Random sat up as rubbed his face and groaned, "Wa-wooh! The femme has a punch like a sentient asteroid!"
See? This is why we aren't nice to her! Hot Head snapped at Macbeth in their mental void. She is rude and a manipulative glitch!
It does not matter whether your kindness is returned, Macbeth replied coolly. It is in woman's nature to be cruel and manipulative. Your only defense is to treat her kindly and hope that you do not accidentally cross her.
*Then why are you not more gentlemanly to Strika?* Cold Blitzwing asked.
To this, Macbeth blinked, then grimaced in distaste. That is a female?
Random burst out into loud laughter, rolling across the floor of the battered training room. Passerby would feel a shiver run up their spinal units, but keep going, knowing full well of Blitzwing's mental state and not wishing to encounter it.
- - - -
Shockwave, mean while, was in his laboratory. Every computer screen available was filled with page after page after page of notes and data on the human brain. Documents, diagrams, official texts, new and old, and even brain surgery videos were up. One may have found it queasy, or strange, but it was science in its best form to Shockwave and hence he scarcely cared and instead had entered into a peaceful trance-like state of thinking. He had already created a holographic program stimulator to tell him what would happen if he did certain things to a human brain in the process of transferring a human presence to and from a Transformer processor.
Now he tapped in some data about how it would work if he attempted to copy the human conscious data from Blitzwing's processor and attempted to install it into a computer chip. He had done research on Macbeth and saw that his body had been destroyed in Lugnut's punch. That meant that the only option left was to install Macbeth's mind into a computer disk.
"Success rate: 16 %," the computer voice said blandly. "Side effects: Failure to learn or mature brain any further…"
Shockwave did not care for the side effects; he just needed to get the human out of Blitzwing's head and no more. What he was aiming for was a high success rate in the upper eighties and nineties. That goal alone was proving to be more difficult than he thought.
The side effects finished listing themselves off and Shockwave mutely went on to the next stimulation. After a while, he called a mech in and they came obediently.
"Greetings, Soundwave," Shockwave told the Spark Born, "I want you to collect some organics and bring them here, unharmed and alive. I'll need test subjects for the device I am making to get the organic out of Blitzwing."
"Order: confirmed," Soundwave droned, "Inquiry: Why help the triple changer?"
"Blitzwing is a hand full enough without a fourth person in his mind," Shockwave replied. "The sooner we get the human out of his processor, the less likely chance we'll have of him melting down or something of the sort."
"Very well," Soundwave responded, "I shall fetch suitable organics now."