Chapter 10: It's All in the Details
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"Owowowow! Aw geez will you let go already we're here! Get off!" Smokescreen whine as Ratchet forcibly shoved him into the med bay by his doorwing.
"It's about time." Sunstreaker muttered.
"Yeah we were getting bored." Sideswipe chimed in.
"Hush you two." Ratchet said as he locked the doors.
Smokescreen blinked at the other mechs in the room which included Red Alert, Ironhide, Hoist, the twins, Ambulon, and the docbot himself. "How did you two beat us here?" he eyed the twins.
"Magic." Sideswipe smirked.
Smokescreen raised an optic rigde as the glinnt in the red twinling's optics sent chills down his spinal strut."Um... right... Alrighty then... what's going on here?"
"Welcome to the war room kid." Ironhide said with a grin. "We're here to get that glitch of your brother with Jazz."
Smokescreen twitched but attempted to feign innocence. "... You're kidding right? Mr. Logic Brain with anyone please."
Ratchet cleared his intake. "I spoke with him about his crush."
Smokescreen glared over his shoulder at the medic. "Ratchet-"
"Look I'm tired of watching him going all moon opticked over Jazz in the hallways." Red Alert piped up. Prowl has been literally stalking Jazz in the halls. Frankly, I'm surprised that Jazz hasn't brought up charges for it."
"So... You all have been trying to play matchmaker?"
"Keyword being trying. As you can see Operation: Stick em was a failure."
"Wait are you telling that whole mess the other day was a trick? But you guys were glued down too!"
The twins gave the blue praxian a devilish set of grins. "It's all in the details." the golden youngling replied.
Smokescreen blinked at them before shaking his head. "You realize it's hopeless right? Prowl is never going to admit his feelings towards Jazz.."
"When there is a will there is a way."
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Prowl was in the middle of reviewing another set of disappointing feild reports when Optimus commed him for a meeting. What Prowl didn't expect upon entering the Prime's quaters was to find a haggard and absolutely filthy Jazz.
"Jazz? What in the pit happened to you?"
The TIC gave him a smile. "Reconnaissance. Got some bad intel for you and it's not good."
"Important enough that you didn't bother stopping in the wash racks. So spit it out."
"Prowl." Optimus spoke quietly. "Jazz brings intel for the potential upcoming decepticon targets." He handed over the datapad. Prowl took it and quickly scanned over the lists, his tactical computer crunching the statistics as fast as he could leaving him dead certain of one particular city-state with a higher probability of being attacked.
His frame stiffed as he stared at the blaring glyphs. "Praxus." he said quietly as he glanced up at Optimus. "You called me here because of Praxus."
"I need you to try to reason with the Emirate. Either convince him to align with us of evacuate the city... Fore if the cons don't change their projected targets then I fear Praxus will suffer greatly."
"I will try my best. I will prepare for my departure immediately."
"Smokescreen will accompany you as well."
"Thank you Prime." Prowl bowed his helm before ducking out of the room.
Jazz glanced at his oldest friend. "Do you think He'll succeed?"
"I can only hope."
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:What do you want I;m busy:
:Hello to you too Ratchet. I was only going to inform you that I'm coming to pick up one of the spare field kits.:
:You're going out? Who's your partner?:
:Smokescreen.:
:Heh.. now ain't that a coincidence.:
Prowl frowned at the medic's tone. :Ratchet... Is there something you need to tell me?:
:Yeah your idiot brother has managed to get his legs cleaved off by a fragging door of all things... Just recently in fact.:
:He what?: Prowl's voice echoed through the medbay's open comm link. "What do you mean incapacitated?: Prowl almost growled through the com, and it wasn't too long before the doors to the medbay burst open, revealing an irate Prowl who glared at Ratchet who was wrist deep into cauterizing he lines leading to where Smokescreen's legs had once been.
"How in the Pit did this happen?" Prowl stared over his sibling who lay unconscious on the table.
"Wheeljack."
Doorwings twitching in irritation a he fought the urge to facepalm. "Never mind I don't need the details right now." Prowl sighed. "He's not going anywhere right away."
"Nope. Now if you don't mind your petulant glaring is distracting me."
"That's rich coming from you." Prowl scoffed as he obeyed the medic and exited comming someone as he walked out.
Several minutes passed with the only sound of the welder to listen to. Finally Smokescreen onlined his optics to glare at the medic. "Did you guys have to cut off my legs?"
"For the good of everyone. Yes." Ironhide grumbled as the others piled out of the medic's office.
"Seriously though you had to cut off my fragging legs?!"