Introduction: This takes place some time during Revolution chapters 7-8. That is all.
Ironhide looked out over the crowd in front of him. Elita smiled encouragingly and Chromia crossed her arms and met his gaze with her characteristic fierce determination. Ratchet scowled. He looked like he was muttering something under his breath to Dion, who stood next to him with a bored expression on his faceplate.
It had taken almost half a joor to convince Ratchet to come to this. Ironhide hoped he stayed, though. The medic was like Optimus—he'd willingly put himself in danger if the situation called for it—and he probably wouldn't survive long in a war if he didn't learn how to fight.
Ironhide's friend and former co-worker Padlock walked over with a casual smile. "We're all here?" he asked.
"Uh, yeah," Ironhide said. "Looks like everyone's here."
"Great," Padlock said, then stepped forward and turned to address the whole crowd. "Hey, everyone! Everyone!"
The chatter in the room faded out after a few astroseconds and Padlock continued. "Let's get started. I'm Padlock, a good friend of Ironhide here. I know a few of you, but introductions can wait. Let me begin by just explaining what this is all about. Most of you are in desk jobs and whatnot—you're probably not expecting to see a lot of action. But that doesn't mean you won't ever benefit from knowing how to fight. In fact, because you'll be in important places—medbays, communication centers, and the like, it's possible you could be targeted by the enemy. And your ability to fire a gun or hold off an assassin for half a breem could save your life and the lives of the mecha you work with."
"Hmph," Ratchet said, crossing his arms and glaring up from the front row.
"You're a medic, right?" Padlock said.
Ironhide shot a nervous glance at his friend—if Padlock singled Ratchet out, the little orange medic would probably make some kind of a scene.
"Yes," Ratchet tilted his helm up, meeting Padlock's gaze with defiance.
"Say you're out on the battlefield running triage or something, and some enemy squadron shows up out of nowhere. You're going to want to be able to protect yourself and your patients, right?"
Ratchet didn't look impressed.
"In any case," Padlock said. "Um… here's how this will work. We're going to break up into smaller groups taught by my fellow guardsmechs...and former guardsmech" he amended as he gestured to Ironhide and the others. "Ironhide's going to talk about guns and projectiles. Horsepower here will be showing you the basics of energy weapons, Windsail will teach about various blade weapons, and I'll be teaching some elementary hand-to-hand. Let's… yes?"
Ratchet had raised his hand.
"How long is this going to take?" the medic grumbled. "I don't have time for this slag."
"Well, no one's forcing you to stay." Ironhide could hear some frustration in Padlock's voice now. "But you're going to sorely regret it some orn if your patients offline because you can't defend yourself."
Bad move.
"I can defend myself perfectly fine!"
"I highly doubt that," Padlock snapped. "Now, everyone… just pick somewhere to go. Try to split up evenly. We'll rotate after maybe half a joor. Any questions?"
There was quiet mumbling, but no one seemed to want to ask anything out loud.
The group split up four ways. Chromia and her sisters followed Ironhide over to one corner of the room, along with a few other mecha.
"Ok," he said. "Let's start with something simple…" he trailed off, as he realized that half of the group was watching the adjacent corner. He followed their gaze.
"What are we all looking at?" Chromia asked.
"I wanna see this," Moonracer said. "I think if Padlock pushes that crazy medic any further, he's gonna blow, and that'll be interesting."
"Really?" Chromia rolled her optics, but watched as well as Ratchet and a few others gathered around Padlock.
"Ok," Padlock said to his group. "Best thing you can do if someone with more fighting skill is attacking you is to knock them over and make sure you don't get knocked over. That'll give you some time to either run, or try and further incapacitate them. I need a volunteer. How about you, little medic."
"He's just digging himself deeper," Moonracer grinned. "Watch, Ratchet's gonna pull out that wrench and just throw it at him and he'll end up, like, unconscious on the floor."
"I don't know," Ironhide said. "Padlock's pretty good at dodging."
Elita sighed. "I don't think it's fair for him to try and humiliate Ratchet like this."
"True," Chromia said. "After all, Ratchet humiliates himself plenty as it is."
Elita shot a disapproving frown at her sister.
"I want you to try and knock me over," they heard Padlock say as he got into a steady stance.
They waited expectantly as Ratchet walked forward, arms still crossed, still scowling. He looked Padlock up and down, and then leaped at the larger mech.
Ironhide's optics widened as Ratchet knocked Padlock's pedes out from under him and slammed him to the ground.
The crash stunned the room into silence and everyone looked toward the corner were Ratchet stood over Padlock, arms crossed again.
Padlock got back to his pedes, and threw himself at Ratchet, but the medic stepped neatly out of the way, turned, and slammed Padlock into a nearby wall, pinning him there. He held the guardsmech against the wall for a few moments then released him and stalked away. On his way out he grabbed a knife from a stunned-looking Windsail's hands and threw it at the wall where it stuck deep into the very center of a target that had been set up there.
The door shut behind him.
"What the frag?" Moonracer broke the silence.
A swell of disbelieving whispers swept the room as mecha turned to talk to each other. Realizing that someone needed to call everyone to order, Ironhide stepped toward the center of the room. "Hey… Hey! Everyone, let's get back to work. Unless someone else wants to test out of the course?"
Scattered laughter faded into focused quiet and Ironhide went back to the group he was working with. He glanced over at Padlock, who was still leaning against the wall. The guardsmech met his gaze and his stunned expression shifted to a sort of incredulous questioning look.
Ironhide wasn't sure what to tell the mech, so he just shrugged and turned back to his group.
"What the frag?" Moonracer said again, giggling this time.
"Was that some sort of fluke?" Chromia asked.
Ironhide shook his helm. "Couldn't have been. He… must have training somehow…"
"That was fragging amazing," Moonracer said. "Did you see that? That was even better than I thought it would be."
Chromia turned to look at Elita. "So much for humiliating Ratchet," she said.
"Pit, I hope someone was recording that," Moonracer grinned.
"Hey," Ironhide said. "Let's focus. We've got a lot of ground to cover."