Ignition
Chapter 10
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.
Graham sat on one of the picnic tables by the basketball court, feet resting on the bench, twisting his beret in his hands. With no one around, he could afford a few moments of uncertainty. Just what the hell were they going to tell Gen. Morshower? He would volunteer to face the general with news of Prime's condition, if it came down to it, if it would save the Autobot leader's dignity and Lennox's pride. Then that would leave Morshower in a lurch, having to then reveal the news to Galloway, who in turn would have to tell the American president.
He didn't give a rat's ass about Galloway having to pass on the news. He was more concerned with Morshower, and the practical considerations Optimus' condition faced them with, and what Galloway would do when he found out. Having Optimus out for whatever time it took to birth his offspring, and recovery was no problem in his mind. They could cope, as they did whenever any NEST personnel, human or Cybertronian, were injured. He also doubted any of the Autobots would have a problem with lending Optimus a helping hand when he needed it. After all, the first sparkling born on their new homeworld, and the child of their Prime would be something special to them all.
All problems to deal with in the immediate future. At the moment, he wanted the respite of his bunk. Everything else could wait until morning.
A morning that came all too fast for some. Optimus Prime reluctantly rolled off his berth, thanks to the pounding on his door. 0630. Well before he had to report to Ratchet, or for duty. He opened the door, finding an irate Ironhide standing outside.
"Want to tell me why Will spent the night in the human med bay, and what part you had in it? Ratchet told me I should talk to you. He said you could explain," Ironhide said. "And why do I get the feeling it has everything to do with your behavior since the Wreckers left?"
Optimus vented air, sighing. "Ironhide, sit down," he said. "You might as well know. . ."
"Know what? That you've been an aft the past few weeks? Avoiding everyone, including your closest friends, shutting yourself up in your quarters. If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were moping because the Wreckers are gone."
"I. Do. Not. Mope." Optimus said, clipping each word, arms crossed.
"You're moping now," Ironhide said.
"Only because you woke me up early, and I need my rest," Optimus said.
"Since when?" Ironhide asked. "You're what the humans call a 'workaholic.' You and Prowl both, but he isn't so much anymore, being newly bonded. You don't have much of an excuse."
"I do now," Optimus muttered.
"What?" Ironhide said.
"Ironhide, shut up," Optimus snapped. "If you want to know why I've been so evasive lately, I'll tell you. I'm sparked."
Ironhide offlined and onlined his optics several times, a fair imitation of a human blink. He sat down on Optimus' berth.
"What?" he repeated.
"You heard me the first time," Optimus said. "I'm not repeating myself."
"Sparked? Then who. . ."
"The two Wreckers you told Elita I was making 'googly optics' at," Optimus said.
"But. . .that would mean. . ."
"I fragged 'em both," Optimus said. "And I did."
"Springer and Hot Rod?" Ironhide said.
"Hot Rod and Drift," Optimus said.
"The. . .the Decepticon?" Ironhide spluttered.
"Former Decepticon," Optimus said.
"You're carrying."
"Yes," Optimus said.
"A sparkling possibly half-Decepticon," Ironhide said.
"Ironhide, Drift is not a Decepticon," Optimus said. "Otherwise, Ultra Magnus would not include him in his team."
"For your information, most of the Wreckers give him wide berth because he used to be a Decepticon," Ironhide said.
"'Hide, I'm not having this discussion right now," Optimus said. "I appreciate your concern, but the sire is my business. Don't you have someone else to harass right now?"
His patience was starting to wear thin, and he did not want to argue with Ironhide. For a few seconds, he toyed with mentioning the idea of calling the Wreckers back. That would get Ironhide off his back, and calm him down at the same time. Being reunited with his bondmate for only one human month was not nearly enough. Calling them back was also a decent threat, for many other reasons. But he didn't mention it.
"We'll discuss this later," Optimus said. "By the way, Lennox collapsed when he heard Ratchet and I arguing about my. . .condition. It's partly my fault he's in the med bay, and I'm sorry."
Ironhide's frown lessened. "I'll see you later," he said. "I'll drop by after we're off duty tonight, if that's all right."
Optimus nodded. One hurdle down.
88888
Another long day, and another argument with Ratchet, in public this time, over leading a combat mission to Canada. Optimus lost that one, but he used the situation as an opportunity to throw Elita-1 into the combat rotation, and getting Ironhide off his back at the same time. Elita was the Autobot in charge of the mission, co-leading with Graham, with Jazz and Ironhide backing them up, along with sending Hound, Mirage and Barricade.
He was going to have to let the rest of the Autobots know about his condition, and soon, from the looks he was getting after his fight with the medic. Damn Ratchet. He sighed. The medic was right. He just wasn't going to tell him that. Yet. He did not want to jeopardize his offspring in any way. A sparkling was something he had wanted for a very long time, and he was not going to let anything happen to it. No, this argument was a matter of pride, but Ratchet's pragmatism and will won out.
So he was nursing his wounded pride by hiding in his office, feet propped up, reading up on sparkling care. He looked up when the office door slid open. Prowl, walked in, empty-handed for once.
"You need to stop hiding," Prowl said. "The others know something is bothering you, and hiding is not helping the speculation and gossip go away. Barricade even asked before he left today if he should do something to quell the rumors."
"Why?" Optimus asked.
"He knows," Prowl said. "I didn't tell him, he guessed you're carrying."
Optimus sighed. "When do you think I should tell everyone?"
"Soon," Prowl said. "Whenever you're ready, not when you're feeling pressured. Besides, Chromia already suspects, and asked me as much, but I said nothing, so don't be surprised if she just barges in on you and asks."
"So much for my privacy," Optimus muttered.
"Your friends worry about you," Prowl said. "And you are being an aft-head."
"Thanks," Optimus said.
"You're welcome," Prowl said. "That aside, I am here to discuss a few matters, such as the Wreckers. I think you need to seriously consider my recommendations, especially in regard to officer training and special ops."
"As in regards to my personal life?" Optimus asked, arms crossed, one optic ridge raised.
"That too," Prowl said. "With the addition to the Wreckers to our forces, we double our population, and that gives us the ability to replicate our command structure using Ultra Magnus as commander. Kup will be relegated to security once he's here. He won't take no for an answer, and that is where his skills are best utilized. Springer is second-in-command of the Wreckers, but in my opinion, he'll make a better front-liner than officer material within our current command structure. Hot Rod would be an excellent future second-in-command for Ultra Magnus."
"Someone is going to have to train Hot Rod," Optimus said. "And I won't have time, for many reasons."
"My aft," Prowl said, crossing his arms. A sure sign he was settling in for an assault, Optimus mused. "You're best suited for this, for both personal and professional reasons. Hot Rod needs a steadying, calming influence. You can provide that."
"So can you, or Ultra Magnus," Optimus countered. "Besides, Kup will want him for security, also."
"Ultra Magnus is too inflexible," Prowl said. "I will work with Hot Rod, also, but Kup and I already decided Barricade is best for Kup's purposes when they return. He has the experience necessary for producing the best results in quickly shoring up base and planetary defenses against the Decepticons, not a hot-tempered, cocky youngling."
Optimus had no response.
"You just don't want to have to deal with him on a daily basis, do you?" Prowl asked.
Again, no answer.
"Did it ever occur to you that you that your sparkling might have two sires and not just one?" Prowl said. "I've been reading up, and producing a new spark so quickly suggests a highly compatible match, or two. You'd be a fool not to consider one, or both Hot Rod or Drift."
"You Praxians and your traditions," Optimus said.
"My own creators sparked me first, then bonded," Prowl said. "It was the quickest way they could prove they belonged together. Once they were sparked, neither of their creators could deny they weren't a productive, compatible match, and they sealed their bond. A successful pairing that produced three offspring. You Iaconians are too. . .hide-bound as the humans would say."
"How long did it take you to come up with this argument?" Optimus asked.
"Not as long as you think," Prowl said. "My battle computer and logic center are good for matters besides tactics."
"There is nothing logical about my situation," Optimus said.
"I never said there was," Prowl replied. "I'm merely suggesting you study all your options before making a decision regarding your future that you regret."