Well folks the challenge was a complete success! Less stress and many more ideas with our winner being Xireana Prime!
A shout-out to Khalthar who sent me a worthy runner-up, and squishy-mom-hugs to Tori-da-Mutt who started out with great enthusiasm and got kicked by life. Everybody send Tori hugs and kind wishes, join me in the glory of the family of humanity, and the climate-driven evolution of the 'Canadian.' Folks don't care about those less fortunate when it's warm outside. Up here, when it's forty below (pick your degrees C/F, it amounts to the same.) enmities die quickly in favour of the fact that if you don't have shelter, you'll die. Politeness is both generational and habitual, and desperately necessary whilst the cold makes for close quarters for six months out of the year. Apologies are not a sign of weakness, it is the strength to admit that I am in the wrong, and you should take the place ahead of me in the coffee lineup because you got to the door first and allowed me through with a smile and a nod.
Courtesy.
2017 is a new year, we've a long ways to go yet and it's never too late: Be a better friend, help someone in need. Look past what's on the surface and guard keenly against prejudice.
All lives matter.
Canadian is not simply a title of nationality, it is a right of PERSONALITY. Be Canadian with me; have courage and be kind.
And that turned into quite a tangent, but don't get too excited just yet, the following isn't the result of the challenge, that's coming up a bit later, this is just:
Chapter 213 – The Build Off
(IPOV)
::. I'll build a proper berth for my niece myself!.:: Ironhide announced over the primary, heaving himself to his feet.
::. Don't leave me alone with Sarah! She's gonna kill me the second there aren't any witnesses!.:: Ratchet finally chimed in in a panicked tone. Ironhide paused slightly, torn between his project and protecting his friend. Sarah was human, and tiny, but no-bot in their right processors messed with the Colonel's mate... Kae was chuckling about something as she lounged in the doorway.
::. You will not!.:: Sunstreaker stated in a low growl. ::. a proper berth is the duty of her guardians!.:: Ironhide scowled.
::. It's not funny Kae! Sarah's got the same temper that you do!.:: Ratchet scolded the Lady High Protector. Ironhide smirked slightly, Optimus had certainly picked the right femme for a mate this time around. Kae didn't even blink in offence when her subordinates scolded her, he idly added another point to her favour on his tally board. Kae was looking into the distance somewhat, the way she always did when communicating with somebot on a different frequency. Ironhide made a note to correct that human behaviour in the femme, then deleted it. It wasn't a dangerous tell, and sometimes it was kinda handy.
::. On my way, what did you do this time my mate?.:: Arcee asked in an amused tone over the Primary the next moment. Good femme, which meant he was now free to attend to his new project.
::. I'm her uncle, it's my job to spoil her, remember?.:: Ironhide growled at Sunstreaker in irritation. He watched as Kae straightened and paced carefully toward the entrance bay.
::. A proper berth is a necessity, that's guardian's territory.:: Sunstreaker retorted flatly. Ironhide scowled, that was true, marginally, but he wanted to make something for his little niece!
::. Or you could both build her a berth and let her choose her favourite.:: Kae interrupted their flourishing argument. Good point.
::. Good compromise.:: Ironhide grunted, stomping out of the med-bay with the sheer process of competition heating his systems and encouraging the lubricants to cycle through his old joints in anticipation.
::. May the best bot win.:: Sunstreaker added in grim satisfaction. Ironhide smirked, obviously Sunstreaker was game for a good competition, too. Immediately he began bringing up the schematics for a proper berth, stomping into the central and beginning to tug down the spare neurals and bulbs of metal that had taken to growing from the cathedral anytime the youngling rip of a Prime got his mate alone in their quarters.
"Whatcha doin' Ironhide?" Mudflap asked curiously.
"Buildin' my little niece a proper berth," Ironhide grunted, tugging down another solid, fist-sized globe and depositing it into the crook of his elbow.
"Looks like it's gonna be a nice big one," Skids commented innocently.
"Uh huh," Ironhide grunted, surveying his haul for a moment before tugging down another pair of globes.
"Plenty of room for Anabelle to grow into it," Mudflap added.
Good point.
Ironhide grabbed a couple more globes and stomped his way to Wheeljack's shop.
"Need your forge 'Jack," he rumbled perfunctorily.
"Certainly Ironhide!" Wheeljack stated cheerfully, looking up from whatever project he was wiring together this time. Ironhide looked at the twisted metals on Wheeljack's scorched workbench warily.
"That ain't gonna explode while I'm here is it?" he asked with narrowed optics.
"It shouldn't," Wheeljack commented musingly, looking back at his project again. Ironhide shrugged and refreshed the fields around his armour and joints, just to be sure.
He immediately signalled the fires to start up and dumped his load of metal into the forge, carefully watching the bulbs as they quickly burned down from Kae's spark-blue to pure white. He levitated the purified steel from the forge and promptly began folding the near-liquid metals in on themselves, modelling a sturdy little berth from the blob as it cooled. Finally, the metal blackened. Ironhide settled it onto the floor and knelt down, poking, prodding, and kneading the surface until the metals were perfectly, uniformly fatigued and softened.
A good, comfortable berth.
He promptly gathered up the neurals he'd collected and picked up the berth.
"Later 'Jack," he grunted patiently.
"Till all are one Ironhide!" Wheeljack stated cheerfully, glancing up at him before returning to his project.
Ironhide stomped his way down the corridor, glancing in at Ratchet as the medic worked patiently away at whatever project he had this time, Sarah was sitting in a relaxed pose at a comfortable desk amidst the human-sized med-berths, reviewing the datawork Ratchet had compiled on the human soldiers to date.
Across their spark-bond, Chromia was in her element at the centre of four dozen new recruits' attention. Ironhide snorted in amusement, those newbies were gonna need a good scare in a bit, Chrome was bein' too soft on them; he was certain of it.
"Need your grinder Ratch," Ironhide rumbled gruffly, stomping his way into the med-bay. Ratchet didn't even look up, idly waving a servo toward the tools neatly arranged tools on their shelves. "Afternoon Sarah," he added, nodding to the femme.
"Ironhide," Sarah smiled up at him for a moment before returning to her data work.
Ironhide idly shoved his niece's desk furniture aside somewhat and set the little berth down on her workbench. He scanned it for a long moment and strode over to the wall of tools, fetching the grinder and the right wheels. He walked around the little berth for a moment and promptly got down to some serious work, polishing Anabelle's berth to a gleaming shine and etching the familiar old prayer for deep recharge and sweet dreams along it's sides. Finally, he sat down and frowned in concentration, weaving the proper circuitry into the frame to connect the little berth into the energon collective.
Just the way his own little berth had been, all those vorn ago.
(SuPOV)
Sunstreaker worked to keep his patience; it wasn't difficult, really, Bee and Blue were keeping each other entertained. He drove a bit more slowly than he usually did, not that Bee ever had any trouble keeping up with him, but Blue was still a bit new to the whole drive around in alt-mode thing. Aside from that, Sunstreaker essentially ignored the pair, leading the way along the various highways of whatever country they'd landed in this time, scanning for errant energon signals and running schematics through a few extra processors.
::. Are we there yet?.:: Blue asked curiously.
::. Are we where now?.:: Sunstreaker asked curiously, jolting out of his reverie somewhat.
::. The bridge-back point!.:: Blue stated cheerfully. ::. Symphony said she'd play my entire song for me when we got back from our patrol! I didn't even know I had a song until Bee said that Symphony said that it's mine!.::
Sunstreaker ran another scan and reviewed the mission log.
::. Five miles.:: he grinned, picking up his pace slightly. For the first time he was actually eager to return to the base.
::. Wait up!.:: Bluestreak called out worriedly.
Sunstreaker chuckled slightly, he couldn't help it as he dropped his speed by a dozen miles to the hour, he didn't really need to move that quickly over their final five miles of patrol. For good measure he ran another scan of the area and scowled.
::. Cool the speed, we got a signature.:: he grumbled irritably, turning off the road and toward that signature.
::. Three miles out.:: Bumblebee confirmed seriously. ::. Hang back behind us Blue-.::
::. But-!.:: Bluestreak began worriedly.
::. Your femme creator will have our helms if you take damage Bluestreak, hang back and make sure nothing sneaks up behind us.:: Sunstreaker stated firmly, backing the scout.
::. Don't worry about chasing after us, grounder.:: a flier's voice drawled patiently.
::. Is there nowhere a bot can find some privacy on this planet?.:: a second grumbled.
::. Nothing to see here!.:: another added cheerfully.
::. Trine on the ground! For the only reason a trine would ever be on the ground!.:: Bumblebee called out cheerfully.
::. The scout has knowledge of the fliers way.:: the second stated menacingly.
::. Of course he does, he's the spark-brother of the Lady Prime. They mean no harm, come back here.:: the third stated soothingly.
::. I just need a signature ping to log against the errant energon signal.:: Sunstreaker drawled patiently, slowing and transforming near the cliff edge. He nodded as Camber's trine pinged him and turned around, transforming and following his own tracks.
::. How long are you in the area?.:: Camber asked in a mildly interested tone.
::. Three miles to our bridge-back point and however long it takes Lena to spin up the bridge.:: Sunstreaker replied patiently.
::. You gonna rat us out?.:: the third voice called out worriedly.
::. For what? Landing in a mostly uninhabited region?.:: Sunstreaker asked with a laugh. ::. It's nobot's business but your own where you land for a picnic.::
::. What's a picnic?.:: the second asked in a confused tone.
::. Picnics are what the humans call taking their fuel to places not typically designated for refuelling for the sake of a change of scenery which is actually a really great idea I wonder if Archangel would mind if we brought a few cubes of energon on patrol next time I'm actually kind of hungry...:: Bluestreak began excitedly. Sunstreaker rolled his optics and picked up his pace slightly.
::. Come on then youngling, let's get you something to eat.:: he stated in amusement, resuming their course toward their ex-fill co-ordinates.
::. Why does everybot still call me youngling?.:: Bluestreak asked with a frown. ::. I might be young still but I'm not that-.::
::. You have another hundred or so vorn to go before bots stop calling you youngling Blue.:: Bumblebee chirped in amusement.
::. I'm only twenty vorn younger than you and nobot calls you youngling.:: Bluestreak pouted.
::. Big-sister calls me youngling, and I'm sixty-eight vorn older than she is.:: Bumblebee laughed.
::. Just how old are you, scout?.:: Camber asked with laughing incredulity.
::. Sixty-eight vorn, weren't you paying attention?.:: Bumblebee asked teasingly.
::. The youngling scout is correct, youngling, you both have many vorn to traverse before the title ceases to stick.:: the second stated in a sardonic tone.
::. It's nice to see you in a better mood Prop.:: the third stated with a chirping laugh.
::. Sunstreaker calling base for the patrol-end bridge.:: Sunstreaker called out patiently.
::. Standby.:: Lena called back instantly. Sunstreaker smirked slightly and parked, transforming to wait for the bridge to appear.
::. But that means that the Lady High Protector isn't even a vorn old yet!.:: Bluestreak protested in a shocked tone.
::. Sure doesn't act like it though, does she?.:: the third of Camber's trine replied with a laugh.
::. Humans mature faster than we do, Blue.:: Bumblebee stated gently.
::. But age-wise doesn't that make even me more suited to the position!?.:: Bluestreak demanded. ::. Not that there aren't bots way better suited to the position than I am but still-.::
::. Are you going to challenge the Lady High Protector for her position?.:: Sunstreaker asked in an amused tone. ::. Short of the fact that she's so young by our standards, has she presented any reason why she should be challenged?.::
::. Well... no...:: Bluestreak began musingly.
::. Not that we'd actually have a chance against her in earnest combat.:: Bumblebee added with a laugh.
::. True.:: Camber's voice nodded sagely as Sunstreaker watched the bridge spin up in front of them.
::. Bridge is clear.:: Lena informed them cheerfully.
::. Good orn to you, fliers!.:: Bluestreak called out cheerfully.
::. Good orn younglings.:: the second replied in an uncharacteristically patient tone- for a flier. Sunstreaker smiled as Bee led Blue through before following himself. The momentary brightness cleared and he nodded his thanks to the femme manning the bridge controls, making an immediate beeline for the central. Then, he stopped dead in his tracks.
"Where the slag have all the bulbs gone!?" he demanded incredulously.
"Ironhide took 'em," Mudflap informed him cheerfully.
::. Ironhide!.:: Sunstreaker snapped over the primary.
::. What?.:: Ironhide rumbled warily.
::. Competition for Anabelle's affection isn't enough, you had to take all of the new metals!?.:: he demanded irately.
::. I needed 'em.:: Ironhide rumbled defensively.
::. Eight bulbs!?.:: Sunstreaker demanded incredulously.
::. She needs room to grow into her berth.:: Ironhide rumbled innocently, Sunstreaker rolled his optics irritably; no doubt the weapons master had dutifully built the femme a Cybertronian's berth.
::. Is there anything left!?.:: he demanded irritably.
::. No...::
Sunstreaker sighed grumpily and glanced at his servos, idly admiring the still-perfect gloss of his paint. Then he paused, the technicians at the Lamborghini factory had done an excellent job of hiding the unwanted, extraneous etchings in his armour, but they were still there. Just because nobot could see them, didn't hide them in Sunstreaker's mind. He smirked to himself and strode to the med-bay.
"Ratchet?" he called out curiously, cautiously poking his helm around the corner.
"Sunstreaker? Who's injured?" Ratchet demanded immediately, looking up from his project.
"Nobot that I know of, may I have a couple of cubes of high-grade? Please?" Sunstreaker asked as politely as he knew how. Ratchet eyed him warily.
"Where are you Mirage?" he asked with a scowl, looking around the bay. Sunstreaker rolled his optics.
"I'm not after an overcharge, medic," he stated irritably. "My armour is uncomfortable."
"Have you outsized it?" Ratchet immediately asked curiously.
"Somewhat," Sunstreaker shrugged idly, glancing away.
"Then where's Sideswipe?" Ratchet demanded.
"In California, at college with Anabelle," Sunstreaker stated patiently.
"How are they?" Sarah asked worriedly. Sunstreaker jumped somewhat and turned, nodding deferentially to the femme.
"Mrs. Lennox," he greeted her formally. "They are well; Anabelle is currently sitting on Sides' knee to better see the notes the professor is writing on the board."
"They're in class together?" Sarah asked in a more relaxed tone.
"Mmm hmn," Sunstreaker nodded. "Belle wanted to go in alone until a few of her classmates began looking at her askance. The female humans are now currently attempting to get Sides' attention."
"Why?"
"Our holoforms don't look that bad do they?" Sunstreaker immediately asked worriedly, bringing his holo online and looking at it critically. "We can change them if-"
"No, I mean why did Anabelle care? She usually likes it when people underestimate her," Sarah frowned.
"One of the humans began loudly asking after whom had lost their toddler and picked her up," Sunstreaker stated gravely. "Sideswipe chose to intervene at that time, despite Anabelle's request for independence."
"How did he intervene?" Sarah asked warily.
"He walked up and asked Anabelle if she was ready for class," Sunstreaker shrugged, then he grinned. "Anabelle then promptly asked him where he'd disappeared to, as they were going to be late."
"Then what?" Ratchet asked with a grin.
"Why don't you ask Anabelle?" Sunstreaker asked curiously, "She has it in her forward processors to give her femme creator a play-by-play of the event herself."
"Sunstreaker why are you calling me that?" Sarah interjected with a frown. In an instant, Sunstreaker was looking worriedly at the femme.
"Because you are the femme creator of our reliant?" he replied blankly.
"I do have a name," Sarah Lennox stated flatly. Sunstreaker blinked, then promptly whacked his palm to his forehelm. Ratchet snorted slightly beside him, Sunstreaker rolled his optics.
"What?" Sarah asked warily.
"How many times have you said that? Sunstreaker?" Ratchet asked in mocking curiosity.
"I lost count," Sunstreaker grumbled.
Ratchet chuckled and rose, striding to the wall of stuff and pulling it open. Sunstreaker stared, as did Sarah.
"What the!?" Sarah fairly shouted
Sunstreaker jumped and looked at the femme worriedly for a second before grinning.
"Now that, is sneaky," he commented with that grin, noting the fleeting, smug smirk proffered by the medic.
"How the...!?" Sarah demanded incredulously.
"Oh... uh... right," Ratchet stated offhandedly. "This is where I keep the high-grade, Sarah, if there ever comes a time where you feel the need to create healer grade lubricants for inline application it's two gallons of clean oil to one cube." he turned and deposited three cubes into Sunstreaker's hands. "Tell Sideswipe to drop by for his if his armour's getting tight as well," the medic added pleasantly, Sunstreaker nodded curiously.
"You're awfully... free with it today," he hazarded the comment.
"We have a surplus at the moment, and I have a fresh batch ready to cube with no containers," Ratchet stated with a shrug. "I don't need to squirrel it away for emergencies at the moment." Sunstreaker glanced into his subspace and brought out a dozen empty cubes, offering them to the medic.
"How many do you keep in there!?" Ratchet demanded incredulously.
"However many times Sideswipe hands me a cube while I'm working on something," Sunstreaker shrugged. "Which then build up until the next occasion that I pass the recycler."
"Right," Ratchet nodded offhandedly before looking down at the femme. "Where were we?"
"That's an outside wall," Sarah stated firmly.
"No, there's a bay on the other side," Ratchet shrugged.
"Don't you lie to me medic," Sarah stated with a low growl.
"See for yourself!" Ratchet stated in exasperation, gesturing to the bay.
"Ratchet I have walked the perimeter of this building twenty times and wandered into the abutting building by mistake! That. Is supposed to be an outside wall!" Sarah stated in an obstinate tone.
"No-one sees that generator! They just see the abutted building!" Ratchet stated indignantly. "What was your Mensa score?" he demanded with a frown.
"How did you know I took the Mensa test?" Sarah asked warily.
"I subscribe to the list," Ratchet shrugged.
"You have access to the list?" Sarah demanded.
"Well not the scores," Ratchet stated defensively.
"May I be excused?" Sunstreaker asked hesitantly.
"Certainly," Sarah nodded, eyes fixed on Ratchet. "You know the name of every applicant but not their score!?"
"Well I know the scores of the individuals I communicate with on the forums..." Ratchet began with a shrug. Sunstreaker turned and immediately tucked himself behind the door, looking up at Arcee as she sat half curled on the first catwalk, listening to the arguments in Med-bay.
::. How long has that been going on?.:: he asked tentatively over the primary.
::. On and off for three hours.:: Arcee giggled.
::. And you aren't worried?.:: Sunstreaker demanded worriedly.
::. Of course not, Ratchet's having the time of his life.:: Arcee laughed outright.
::. Slagging off the femme creator of my reliant!?.:: Sunstreaker demanded incredulously, idly flicking his holoform to the guests' quarters. He walked through the door to the the main room assigned to the Lennoxs', and sized up the door leading to their reliant's quarters.
::. Sarah's not slagged off, Sunstreaker, they're debating.::
::. If you say so...:: Sunstreaker murmured hesitantly.
::. I do.:: Arcee stated cheerfully.
Sunstreaker nodded to the femme and strode to Wheeljack's shop.
"Wheeljack, I need to borrow your forge," Sunstreaker stated gravely.
"Certainly Sunstreaker," Wheeljack replied cheerfully, glancing up from his own project for a moment before looking down again. Sunstreaker scanned the collection of circuit boards and explosive materials on the table and scowled.
"Wheeljack why don't you go take a break, maybe grab a cube of energon," Sunstreaker stated in a hinting tone.
"Do you know? I think I may just do that, what an excellent idea!" Wheeljack stated innocently, looking up as though the thought had genuinely not yet occurred to him. The mech promptly rose and wandered toward the central. "Perhaps a cube of energon will get the creative lubricants really moving!"
Sunstreaker rolled his optics and lightly signalled the door to close, then lock.
He wanted a bit of privacy for this. Sunstreaker shed his armour and laid it out carefully on the floor, scanning the pigmentation and modifications before lighting the forge and dumping the lot into the crucible. Idly, he popped open the first cube of energon and scowled at the sickly red and green fire emerging from his armour. Then he scanned it for a moment and relaxed somewhat.
It was just the paint and smoothing compounds burning off. He quickly downed the first cube and grabbed the second, downing it as well. Then he brought the most recent schematics and paint job scans firmly into processor and transformed. Instantly he had his holoform online, inspecting himself carefully before he transformed again. Not a single plate out of place, and the paint job was immaculate. Sunstreaker looked back at the plates of armour he'd shed and smiled as the last of the flickering reds dissipated amidst the blue-white.
Now to get on with some real work, Sunstreaker immediately shut the fires off and suspended the blob with one of the remote forcefields. He shook his helm in amusement for a moment; for all of the experiments and inventions which had blown up in Wheeljack's faceplates, some of the tools he'd idly built in his spare time for enacting those experiments were just flat out spectacular.
Sunstreaker began gently pulling the cooling blob into thin bars. Jacobs would have told him they were five inches in diameter, thus not thin; but there was a beautiful drawing set sitting cheerfully in the corner. He'd refine them in a breem. He narrowed his optics at the cooling forge for a moment and strode over to the explosives section, idly fishing down both the sodium and potassium nitrates. He glanced around and idly snagged a touch of manganese as well.
For later.