Chapter 29 Make believe and wrong ideas
Author's Notes: Thanks to the fic "Autobot Pranks" for the upside-down desk gag. Referenced here for fun.
In Rule 102 Optimus is supposed to talk that weird way. I love his voice and has the best lines so what if his translator became damaged? There is a battle caused medical reason he is talking oddly. Says the closest word by sound. "No" becomes "Noah's ark." Oh the fun and complication of the English language. Onward to saying what you mean.
TF TRANSFORMERS
Major Will Lennox, commander of NEST operations, and friend of the Transformers looked at the congressional aide to the latest budget committee and almost asked him if being an idiot was a requirement for assignment to Diego Garcia. Then decided it had to be, along with no manners and terrible taste in clothes. The man's dark green shirt clashed with the light brown pants and black shoes. His attaché case was pale red, and the cell phone clipped on his belt was electric blue. "Least no one will mistake him for a NEST team member." Lennox muttered then raised his voice, continuing the discussion. "Their contributions have made a big difference in protecting our world."
"Not much difference from where I stand." The aide said.
"Stand with them once in battle and you will know." Major Lennox stated, turning and stopping directly in front of the man. "Autobots have a brig, holds Autobots who break the rules as well as Decepticons. They have a pit, somewhere they thrown their own injured rather than repair them. We count a victory by how many survived. Their victory is total annihilation, death and destruction. Review the footage from Mission City over five years ago. Prime protected humans, and Jazz died doing so. Then watch the clip where Megatron flicks a claw, throwing a man against a car because he could. Not because he was threatened, or in danger but out of pure evil maliciousness."
"Not too much a threat if a teenage boy and a Rubik's cube took him out."
"Allspark cube," he corrected, resisting the temptation to yell, scream or strike at the man physically. He was a professional solider with training on how to kill and could not indulge emotional whims.
"And Megatron's back. The Transformers will protect what they care about?" the aide asked.
'That leaves you out.' The military officer thought while nodding an affirmative. 'If Prime can deal with the idiots of our race with patience, so can I.'
103. Do not ignore Medical restrictions through human assistance. They will not be harmed but Ratchet will deal with you, mech or femme by any means necessary at his disposal. *Optimus Prime, Ultra Magnus, Bumblebee and Ironhide.
Optimus shifted on the medical berth, removing the medical sensor connections from his chassis.
"Are you sure that is wise?" Major Lennox asked, "Ratchet's orders were to stay put until he got back."
"You speak Cybertronian now Major?" Optimus rumbled as he closed his chest panels.
"Threats need no translation. And you ignore physical injuries. Mission City, Egypt and Russia. How long have we known each other?"
"At least four textbooks." Optimus answered then winced, flaring his optics. "My translator circuit is damaged. The other corrupted processors affect only battle responses. I cannot remain in Mediterranean bay and command my tulips. Decepticons are attacking all over the globe awards. I will not fight. Is that satisfactory? "
Lennox opened his mouth then shut it without a comment. His sense of humor warred with the need to have an Autobot point of view on the recent attacks. 'Ultra Magnus is out of reach in space, getting needed raw materials. Ironhide and Jazz are with him. No other mech left has the command experience. We thought the Decepticons would remain in hiding. Wrong.' He glanced up, seeing the terrible pit marks and sealed welds on Optimus from his last battle with Megatron. A plain metal plate welded over his shoulder joint until the Autobot medic could return and rebuild it.
"Ratchet is not here and now. His rank supersedes minelayers only when incapacitated. We cannot let the Decepticons whine in these attacks."
"You're right," The major agreed. "They can't win. You said whine. However, that fits too. Do the damaged circuits affect your comm speech?"
"No."
"Stick to that unless necessary. And you deal with Ratchet when he returns. Until then, you are in an advisory mode only. No combat for any reason. I'll have Epps hack in the mainframe and upgrade your medical status. And then override the door locks to get you out of here. And you didn't hear me just say that. Agreed?"
Two hours later, Lennox was barely noticing the speech switches until the discussion turned to Prowl. He was leading the twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker in the Midwest, hunting the last of a three mech Decepticon terror team. One Decepticon was offlined, the other two wounded but still a threat.
"Does Prowl have a spark mate?" The congressional aide asked. He had heard rumors and wanted to confirm the darkest, oddest ones.
"Prowl is a follower of logic. His interest in relationships is same as a vow of celebrity." Optimus answered the man.
"He swore to be famous? Be wild and go after younger or many?" The man asked in confusion.
"Celibacy. As in no love interest." Lennox corrected, irritated the man seemed slow. He knew Optimus was having a hard time dealing with the syntax errors. 'This idiot on his best day can't match a Prime yet is pushing it. What is his problem?' he thought.
"Maybe he's keeping it secret? Knowing you won't approve of his choice?" he continued.
"Noah's ark at all. Not logical to railroad tie up your time, thoughts and emotions with another. A spark mate could happenstance, but he does not sleek one out. He is friends with femmes but does not purse them."
"I see, I think." The man muttered.
Their conversation was interrupted by a NASA relay of a prerecorded message. "Jazz to big bot. We got the materials but got mechs down. Asteroid vault collapsed, Ultra Magnus and Ironhide. Got them out but Ironhide down a cannon and Magnus lost his internal communication with a power surge. Arrive 2 pm base time. Jazz out."
"Jazz is the mech who was killed at Mission city but now is functional?" The aide asked, receiving a yes back. "Is that wise? Dying changes our race. I've heard he's a prankster on officers over him. Doesn't that show a lack of respect for authority?"
"Jazz is a valued member of my tea party. He encourages and provides wise counsel." Optimus stated, ignoring the few snickers. "We are bound by war and friendship. He irritates Prowl but does so with good tents. I too have been pancaked by them in fun."
The aide twisted his lips, wondering how to find out more. 'I know I am going to regret asking this,' he thought then asked, "What happened?"
Lennox explained, having seen the clip of the prank. "The twins, the ones out on a mission, took his office desk and chair, bolting it upside down to the ceiling. Prime flipped himself up and into the chair, wrapping his legs around its base to hang on. He hung there and called Prowl in like normal for a report. He reacted as planned." He chuckled, deliberately leaving out Prowl offlining with his logic glitch. That was classified information least some government agency uses it to capture and hurt him.
2 pm found them at the airfield, Silverbolt bringing the returning mechs in from their hot entry comet landings. Ironhide walked out, one arm with mangled armor plating and missing its cannon. Ultra Magnus limped out; his head plate cracked and fractures across his shoulder and chest plate. Optimus winced, knowing the force it took to damage their military grade armor.
"Magnus, Ratchet is inbound. Arrive shortening." Prime said. The others waited, use to his mannerisms and speeches over the thousands of years they had served together. He glanced down at the human aide standing among the NEST soldiers, relaying only to Ironhide and Jazz.
::Injuries affected my translation program. The words are not coming out correctly. Can Magnus hear or receive anything?:: Optimus
::No. How come you're not in med bay then? That shoulder plate is a temp fix at best and that ain't saying much. Who welded it? Wheelie one optic?:: Ironhide
::Ratchet is going to hand you your aft on that plate when he finds out you skipped:: Jazz
Ultra Magnus looked back and forth, knowing they were talking internally but not hearing them. 'Why isn't my brother talking? He always talks, even in battle with Megatron. And now he's quiet?' He folded his fingers into the battle sign coded language, asking for brief details. 'Status report?' was flashed out without the humans seeing anything but him flexing his hands. The mechs stopped, looking over at their leader, waiting for him to handle the situation.
"Welcome back Magnus. We need your experiment on the situation to help keep the clam."
"Wheeljack needs help with seafood?" He asked. "My translation program seems affected because I didn't hear that right. Try again Prime?"
Optimus sighed, closing his optics and dropping his head as though in defeat.
Ratchet returned that night, having retrieved the ores and supplies sent ahead of the returning mechs. He ran out of wrenches listening to the reasons why Optimus and Magnus were on their feet in the command center and not locked in med bay. He pulled rank, ordering them out. They refused. "You leave me no choice," he grated between clinched lip plates.
"The twins are on a mission with Prowl." Ultra Magnus stated. "They might be able to take us down and you already stasis locked Ironhide. What did you have in mind?"
"I concur. We can fiction at acceptable levels. You lack the size and speed dial to disable us both."
"How about me?" Sarah Lennox asked, walking in via the human size door into the Autobot hangar. "Hi Ratchet. Kids giving you problems I see. Either you go with him or stay with me. You decide." She stated, folding her arms and giving them her best mommy look.
104. Do not expand upon, use or rely on concepts or ideas taken from children's books. They are unrealistic concepts created by imagination for human children and not factual reality. *Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Grimlock and the Dinobots, the Aerialbots, and Ironhide.
Sergeant Epps tried closing the door on the Autobots hangar with his foot. He used more force that intended with the kick, slamming it. "Wind caught it," he muttered as everyone turned to look at him. "Fall storm, blow the leaves off the trees and make a mess type wind."
"This is an island military base. No trees have leaves here. What's in the box?" Major Will Lennox inquired, looking down from the communications platform, seeing paperbacks and books shifting around inside. He had known Epps for years and reading was not an activity his friend liked. Even required reports were skimmed.
"Recreational materials. You know, educated stuff." Climbing the stairs while balancing the box weight on his other side, the one not needing to grab the railing if he slipped on the metal stairs.
"An improvement over most of the NEST activities I have seen." The congressional aide said, looking up from his laptop. "We do without wasteful, unusable extras in the budget office."
"Like personality?" Lennox quipped, laughing at the glare he got. He walked over, pulling out books. "These are kids' books."
"Book sale at the Elementary school in town. Got Annabelle new quiet time materials without breaking the bank."
"Good thinking. Got any of how to get rid of a tall, skinny problem who has worn out their welcome?" Lennox began pulling out books, setting some aside for review before letting his daughter handle them.
"Kids books don't cover explosives, alien abductions or hiding bodies. Getting nowhere with our alien friends is he?"
Lennox laughed, moving closer. "Ironhide demanded a gas tank fill. This aide knew better; Ironhide dumped him out of this cab, literally. Prime and Magnus are in meetings all morning via satellite. Ratchet is repairing the major twins after their last prank. Tell you about it when other ears are not around. Minor twins are in the brig, Bumblebee is returning with Sam for the party tonight. Rest are recharging in the new building or out playing on the mainland. Official cover is on the target range. Mister important over there fears guns and loud noises upset him."
"Major Lennox, call on the secure channel. Your wife." The communications officer of the watch interrupted. "Hey, I remember these books. Were a real hit years ago with my sons." He talked to Epps as Lennox spoke on his headset. They both heard the delighted cheer of Annabelle at the mention of books and presents from where they stood.
That weekend, she sat on Bumblebee's leg, both peering intently at the seek and find pages. "There!" She squealed, pointing at the target. She heard a sound clip of applause as the yellow mech bobbed his head up and down. They continued page by page until lunchtime. The book was sat down, temporarily forgotten for hamburgers and ice cream.
"Sideswipe, look at this. Getting an idea?" Sunstreaker asked as the book balanced delicately in between two bright yellow metal fingers.
"You need more time off?" Sideswipe shrugged, adjusting the catch of his lower leg throwing blades.
"Look at this character. Remind you of anyone?" He pointed to the cover and waited.
"Now that you mention it, he does," He snickered, beginning to plan their afternoon. Hours later, the twins asked Bumblebee and Annabelle to join them in the reserve hangar.
:: The one Wheeljack uses for big projects? Is it safe? I promised Ironhide to watch and protect the youngling while he trains the new arrivals.:: Bumblebee
::Safe for a sparkling and that old grump too. Get over here already 'Bee:: Sideswipe
Bumblebee keyed the signal to open the doors, holding the girl in his metal hands. The least sign of any trouble and they would be out of there. His scouting programs were running full out, picking up literally hundreds of objects strewn about the area in no apparent order. Stepping inside, he whistled at the mess. Every object from empty gun clips to desk chairs to shoes to spare tires were sitting in piles and laid out across nearly the entire floor space. Wood and metal storage boxes were stacked to create mini walls and go arounds.
"Welcome to Annabelle's 3-D play world. Hi Prime, come on in." Optimus acknowledged the greeting with a nod, optics scanning the items strewn everywhere. "Is this safe for a human youngling?"
"She's not to touch anything. See?" Sideswipe handed her the book, looking over at his twin.
"Look for him sweetie." Sunstreaker encouraged. Annabelle clutched the book to her chest then began walking around, taking time to see what each pile was. Bumblebee trailed along, determined to spot anything that could harm her by its existence let alone contact. Jazz strode in, looking for Prime and stopped.
"What on Cybertron's three moons happened in here?" His sensors detected the single stationary human life in the back corner. Linking into the security cameras, he narrowed the nearest for a better look.
"Why is the human dressed like that?" Jazz asked, seeing the red and white striped shirt, large circular eye glasses, and striped knit cap. A wood walking stick leaned on the table next to him.
"Part of the game." Sunstreaker said.
"Release the human. He is a congressional aide, not a prisoner," Prime instructed, his scans picking up the handcuffs and leg chains hid below the desk edge.
"We will Prime, soon as she finds Waldo."
110. Do not enter street races, speed contests, demolition derbies or other human vehicle contests. *Sideswipe and Sunstreaker (who else?)
Prowl's audio sensors increased receiving volume as he noticed the twins huddled together in a corner of the hangar. He knew from experience that huddle meant trouble as in planning a prank.
"Tonight, 8 pm. Race against S Nok and BR Cade." Sideswipe said.
"They agreed to a rematch or should I say restomping bro!" Sunstreaker gloated, pumping one metal fist into the air.
"Meet you at 7:45. I have perimeter patrol with the humans until them. Be ready."
"I'm always ready," he said, striking a pose as his twin transformed into his red alt mode and drove off.
"So am I." Prowl murmured softly, keying in the twins operating metrics to his onboard tracker. 7:00 found him by the main gate, waiting for the twins to sneak out. His black and white state patrol alt form helped him to hide in the shadows. 7:45 pm came and went, with no signs of the twins, causing him to check the tracker relay.
"They're in the game room? Possible diversionary ruse. I will verify." Prowl drove back to the hangar area, around to the next building, transforming into his bi pedal mode. He listened, hearing the distinctive twins' voices as they yelled encouragement to each other. Sneaking in, he saw the twins holding modified game controllers, connected through their wrist connector cables, while the main screen displayed Xbox 360 demolition racecourse, four cars slamming and fighting it out.
"Hey Prowlie!" Jazz waved from the side chair. "Twins are winning this time! Come watch."
"What do you mean this time?" Sideswipe snarled, concentrating on his yellow racer.
"Twenty seconds left, make them count!" Sunstreaker yelled, ramming the black S Nok racer into the wall on screen. The time counted down then the room was filled with Autobot cheers. The twins won by two points, setting a new high score. Then the screen went dark as the other players abruptly disconnected.
At an abandoned building in the soho district of LA, the Decepticon assassin Scorponok threw his controller down, stomping it into little pieces.
"Easy there. How many of those you think I can steal?" Barricade warned, ducking the mech's swinging tail spike. "We'll win next time." The bio-linked scorpion shaped mech whined, nuzzling his metal head against Barricade's leg.
::Destroy, romp tonight?:: Scorponok sent.
"Sure, why not. I'll load Robot Battle Wars IV, you get the energon snacks."
NEST BASE – Game Room (post twin win)
Jazz picked up the controllers, winding the cords before setting them back into the corner box. "Why the twins are such slobs in life and so meticulous in their fighting I will never know. Leave me to clean up." A human cough and the soft shuffling of feet interrupted him.
"I'm John Booth, congressional aide. I have questions to ask of you."
"Me?" The mech pointed left then right. "Guest quarters are that way, main hangar the other." His optics narrowed as the man approached, practically standing on his foot.
"So, you and Prowl huh?" The aide chortled, patting Jazz's lower leg plating.
"Me and Prowler what?" the mech asked, raising both hands up and out, not understanding. He stepped back, folding his legs to sit on the ground, waiting for the man to continue. The man leaned in close, dropping volume.
"Prowl is your special friend and you use that to get what you want. Small mech handling big secrets for bigger mechs. Find out the good stuff and use it, not report it. I know the type. Probably feel sorry for you after the attack, let you get away with more. Have to prove what you can do now that you are one piece," the human continued spinning his theory.
"WHAT? No…we're...not…I'd never…." Jazz stopped, feeling a pulsing sensation in his energon tank. The idea he used his friendship with a superior officer to get out of trouble insulted his honor. The idea of his sacrifice to save Sam at Mission City left him flawed bothered him more. "That's not true. Prowl is my friend. And I earned my rank, then and now, check my records."
"Come on, you can tell me," the human said. "You're a spy right? What blackmail did you use then? No way Prowl and Prime would allow you to be an officer after that kind of trauma."
Jazz waited for his tank churning to settle, instead it increased. Standing, he ran out the door to the recycling area as internal sensors began flashing their warnings. Reaching almost blindly, he grabbed an empty fifty-gallon drum and purged his energon tank back out. He was easing off as the base guard patrol walked by.
"Party animal," The sentry said, recognizing Jazz.
"I remember those days," the other sentry smiled.
"Remember? I still do them! Why last week with …" their voices trailed off as Jazz kneeled, sick and dizzy.
In med bay, Ratchet looked up, only half-listening to whoever was calling him. No mech or femme appeared. Frowning, he leaned back over his work then hesitated. 'I'm not one to imagine things.' He reached, keying in all Autobot signals, sending a tight beam, low-level pulse. All but one returned immediately, strong and clear. The chief medical officer keyed in another command, displaying locations, focusing on the weak signal. "Recycling yard? Better not be stealing parts for that shield of his again."
Jazz knelt, external sensors fuzzy as his system tried running a reboot. It failed again. The softest touch on his chin plates lifted his head as a strong arm went around his shoulders.
"Easy there buddy," Ratchet reassured, tapping directly into his neck port, pulling readings. Ratchet frowned, not finding a medical trigger for the energon purge.
::Prime, I need you at the east side recycling center. Jazz is down. Can you assist?:: Ratchet
::On my way:: Prime sent and then arrived shortly.
"Move him slowly and steady. The half-processed energon acid burned his main lines. One is dangerously near his spark. I'm running repair patches now on his systems." He stopped, creating logic overrides and uploading them remotely.
The tall red and blue armored mech knelt, moving to lift the other mech up into his arms with minimum jarring. "Is the energon compromised? Should I have Prowl remove it for testing?"
"No, Jazz's original lines needing replacing and I didn't have enough supplies. I had to configure human made ones. And they have nothing designed to match our sensors. I chose between power units and inhibitors," Ratchet explained, his optics intent on the internal work.
"You did nothing short of miracle repairs then and now. How bad is the damage?"
"Energon in its pure form is within tolerable limits on the glass shielding. At least three lines need relaying. I cautioned him on getting upset. Without the flow inhibitor, his tanks churn and he purges," Ratchet explained, his tone harsh and grating as they moved across the tarmac.
"Any idea what upset him?"
"None and it's not important as I used weak human materials, " he said.
"No one has ever disparaged your work," Prime reminded.
"I disparage it. Never enough fast enough," the medic grumbled, leading the way into the repair bay.
To be continued…
