When the Sun Quakes
AN: I know, the last chapter was adorable. Now, to torture some Lambos.
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Jazz snickered as he headed down the hall. His plan was in full swing and he felt a tingling in his circuits that he was going to have to share with someone later. The best part about the plan was that Sideswipe would get the blame. The ruby mech had already taken the blame for most of Jazz's stunts thus far. It was fun to place the blame on the Lamborghini. When Sideswipe had a good laugh, he was more than happy to take the punishment. Provided Jazz compensated him later. Which usually meat distracting Prowl and that's where Jazz's tingling came into play. He snickered. Again. Times like these, it was good to be sneaky and unsuspecting. It was also good to have a resident prankster on board who could and would willingly take the fall. Sometimes Jazz pulled a stunt to see what Prowl's reaction would be, and if Sideswipe had the lug nuts to accept the misplaced blame. So far, Jazz's tally was impeccable. A feat he kept to himself, lest he be forced to find another outlet for his tingling.
That prospect was sobering.
No one was watching, since all cameras were offline in the hall. Unashamed and embolden, and knowing it wasn't being recorded, Jazz opened his interface panel. He sauntered down the hall like a king strutting about his castle, waiting for an unsuspecting damsel to satisfy his desires.
Primus bless Wheeljack. The mech had accidentally blown up a cordless telephone and the resulting blast wave had taken out half of the security cameras. Now, the entire base was blacked out from video feeds. Which meant that mechs like Jazz could float through the base doing whatever they wished and there were no cameras to capture the incriminating evidence.
Jazz shook his head. Sometimes Wheeljack was a friendly terrorist. His spark was in the right place but his processor obviously had corrupted databanks. Now, with the security system down, half the mechs were stationed around the perimeter while the crews worked.
The minibots had taken the nightshift, save for Brawn who was out repairing the more difficult security installations. He was the only one small and strong enough to wedge into the confines that Red Alert had used to anchor his security measures. How Red Alert got them installed in the first place, was still a mystery seeing how only Brawn was qualified to be lowered into position and strong enough to stabilize the platforms to Red Alert's rigid standards.
So now, anyone could flit about the base and no one would be the wiser. Or in Jazz's case, walking around with their intimate parts showing and no one to yell at them for indecency. Unfortunately for Jazz, Optimus Prime turned the hall and nearly collided with his Third. The two almost bumped into one another, had it not been for Jazz's quick thinking due to his special ops training. He jumped to the side to allow the much bigger mech to pass, though there was a wide, accommodating hallway.
"Prime,' Jazz nodded in respect.
"Jazz," Prime answered, his optics darting down, then back up again. Without skipping beat Prime continued on his way, calling over his shoulder, 'You're fly is open."
Jazz smirked and closed his panel. Jazz entered the command center in time to see Sunstreaker shove Sideswipe away from him with a rumbling threat. Sideswipe giggled and took his leave, grinning at Jazz. Jazz watched Sunstreaker type on the terminal, his optics scanning for Deception signatures using Tele-Tran's long range sensors. With the security system undergoing such an overhaul, the Autobots weren't taking any chances. Thankfully Tele-Tran had a vast network of spy satellites in orbit and could keep an optic on things from a birds eye view.
"Sunny," Jazz greeted, stationing himself beside of Sunstreaker so the warrior could keep an optic on him. Sunstreaker was notorious for guarding his rear flank. Jazz learned the hard way to stay in the warrior's peripherals to prevent retaliation.
Sunstreaker turned icy optics to Jazz, his scowl so deep on his face, it was a wonder he didn't have permanent age lines.
"It's Sunstreaker and you're late,' Sunstreaker snapped, typing in his code and releasing the monitor duty to the next in line.
Jazz offered a happy smile and took the seat Sunstreaker vacated. "Had some issues to deal with. There's a whole army that is under my command."
Sunstreaker scoffed and exited, not bothering for a dismissal from his commanding officer. Sunstreaker only took true orders from two mechs, and both of them were outside guarding the borders. Sunstreaker wouldn't admit to taking orders from Prowl. But the SIC did have some sway over the golden mechs actions. A minute fraction, but it was still present.
Feeling a vindictive mood hit him, as it normally did when he had been exempt from any rough activities for any length of time, Sunstreaker ventured back to his quarters via the long way. He turned down the right hand side of the hall instead of the left, opting to walk by the empty officer quarters, then turn down the hall to the minibots area, then another turn before getting to the room he shared with Sideswipe.
Knowing the minibots only had four hours of charge, Sunstreaker stomped his pedes, making them ring through the halls like sadistic bells. To add to the din, he started honking his horn and emitting screeching noises from his vocalizer. A wicked smirk appeared on his face, distorting his handsome features into something macabre. He heard bodies falling off their berths and shouts of shocked surprise coming from more than one room. He got to the end of the hall just in time to hear the first door open. Waiting for the perfect moment, Sunstreaker heard three of the doors open before he turned in slow motion to sneer at the sleepy pests when his voice died in his is vocalizer.
The minibots were standing in their doors, fists raised, faces contorted in anger, shouting and threatening to dismantle the idiotic jacknut who disturbed their rest. One by one their voices died down as they looked to each other, stepping out into the hall to confirm the same diagnosis that everyone had been inflicted.
Sunstreaker turned to hurl an insult but felt his body lock up, his vocalizer no longer responsive. His body started to shake, his optics going wide. In the washracks Sideswipe dropped to his knees, clutching his chest above his spark chamber as his bother's fear bled over the bond in an unexpected assault.
Sideswipe's pain was short lived as panic filled the link before the entire base was bombarded with piercing wails of terrified anguish. Sideswipe's cries of agony went unheard as he struggled to his pedes. He fell against the wall twice before finding his footing to stagger out the door. Using his brother's screaming spark as a beacon, he clutched his chest, sending out comms and spark pulses, hoping to get his brother to answer his questioning summons. But Sunstreaker only flooded with the bond with a white noise of terror before the bond closed on a void.
Unsure of the source, everyone stood rooted in place. All the bots patrolling the parameter looked toward the ARK, wondering if there was an incursion while they weren't looking. Their optics scanned for the cause of the commotion and only when Sunstreaker came barreling past the sentries outside did the screaming dissipate with a fast transformation and the tortured sounds of rubber on asphalt as Sunstreaker lived up to his name.
"What the slag was that all about?" Ironhide asked, watching as the shrieking Lamborghini disappeared from view.
Sideswipe came skidding to a halt at the entrance, looking between the mechs stationed as guards. Water dripped from his armor in a little puddle that was quickly absorbed by the earth. His hand was rubbing his chest, his face set in lines of worry.
"What is wrong with Sunstreaker?' Sideswipe asked, looking from Ironhide to Hound to Perceptor.
"Beats me," Ironhide said, giving a little shrug. "Just heard screaming, then Sunstreaker's tires spinning out and then he was gone. He must be doing near two hundred."
"We were under the impression that it was something you did," Hound said, with a serene look to Sideswipe.
Prowl, Mirage and Tracks came into view, weapons drawn. Ratchet came huffing behind, fully expecting a medical crisis. Prime came running from inside the ARK, his weapons drawn and his frame tense for action.
"What's going on?" Prime demanded, seeing the bots standing around outside the base.
"Sunstreaker just took off screaming his axels off." Ironhide surmised, his attention going back to Sideswipe. "And we were just about to get the explanation."
"I don't know," Sideswipe said, putting his hands up in defense. "I was in the washracks when Sunny flooded our bond with…. panic. I don't know what caused it because he's not answering comms and our bond is closed."
The assembled bots tried to hail the wayward frontliner and just as Sideswipe said, there was no hailing the panicking golden demon.
"Whatever it was, Sunny has cut himself off from me completely," Sideswipe said, looking out toward the direction where his twin disappeared. He felt a pang of worry toward his brother. He hoped Sunstreaker hadn't snapped. Many had joked about it, but it was a possibility.
"What could strike fear into Sunstreaker?' Mirage asked.
"Someone broke his mirror," Tracks snorted with a laugh.
"Hey guys, what was just happened with Sunstreaker?' Bumblebee asked joining the group. He rubbed tired optics at the gathered mechs, all of whom were openly staring at the minibot.
"I know," Bumblebee said, his voice tired as he looked to Sideswipe. "Very funny Sideswipe. You've had your laugh. Happy now?"
"I… I didn't do this.." Sideswipe stammered, optics wide. He took a couple steps back, putting distance between the Volkswagen and himself.
"Sideswipe, brig," Prowl said in a flat tone. He turned away from the minibot to find Sideswipe's wide optics still glued onto Bumblebee. Sideswipe looked ready to bolt. "Sideswipe, what's wrong?"
Everyone turned to look at the Lamborghini.
"What's wrong?' Bee asked, frowning at his own newly acquired paintjob.
The Lamborghini wasn't talking. His optics were wide, his body as tense a spring. He stared at Bumblebee with a statue's intensity.
Prowl looked between the two and the cogs started to churn. After millennia of studying Sideswipe, Prowl had learned the frontliners vast array of body language. Even when he was lying, Prowl could detect the subtle shifts that punched holes in the fabricated truth. But from the look on Sideswipe's face, there was no deception. Sideswipe may be a pranking idiot that meant good fun and innocent jocularity, but by the sheer terrified look etched in his features, he wasn't responsible for Bumblebee's new paint job. Sunstreaker's reaction could also explain Sideswipe's innocence. If Sideswipe knew what caused his brother such pure terror and panic, surely he wouldn't use such information in a prank just to get a laugh at his twin's expense. Sideswipe was fun loving but he knew his brother would beat him within an inch of his life.
Such natural reaction, and nothing forced or falsified, Prowl had a feeling he knew the culprit.
"Jazz," he called out loud while pinging the suspect.
"Yeah?" Jazz answered.
"Care to explain Bumblebee's paint job?" Prowl asked, then noted Windcharger exiting the ARK and he too was painted a new scheme. "And Windcharger?"
"Actually all of us woke up like this," Bumblebee said displaying his now white armor.
Sideswipe took another step back in answer to Bumblebee's movements, his spark pulsing so frantically Prowl's doorwings sensed it. He gave them a casual flick but the vibrations were still tingling along his sensors. His suspicions were confirmed by the sensory data now flowing unchecked along his sensitive door panels.
Sideswipe was scared out of his wits.
"What did the twins do this time?" Jazz asked, half in exasperation, half in boredom.
"Jazz, present your guilty aft. NOW!" Prowl demanded.
"Hmm… I love a commanding tone," Jazz teased, pushing away from the terminal and heading toward the entrance to the ARK. When he got there, he let out a whistle at Bee's appearance.
"Know anything about this?" Prowl asked, motioning to the two minibots
"Can't say that I do," Jazz said, giving his attention to Sideswipe and adding, "Nice one there, Sides."
"I.. I didn't…. didn't do it," Sideswipe stammered in a pitching tone. He looked ready to scream, faint, or run as quickly as his tires would allow.
"Explain Jazz, or else you spend the next month in solitary with no radio and no stereo equipment," Prowl said, turning from Sideswipe to glare at the Porsche.
"What makes you think I did this?" Jazz asked, glaring in turn. Usually at this point, Sideswipe was laughing and taking the blame, a twinkle in his optic and he served a sentence he knew was worth Prowl's weight in revenge. "Sideswipe could just as easily pull off this little stunt."
"Sideswipe signed out of his monitor duty seventeen minutes ago," Prowl said, checking the duty logs and running scenarios. "When he ran after his twin, he was dripping water, confirming the truth that he was in the washracks when this insanity started. Add to the fact that his frame is displaying genuine fear so intense I can sense the vibration in his plating, and using his past transgressions and attitude as a guide, I'm able to ascertain that he is in fact, quite terrified and is not responsible for this fiasco." He gave a jerk of his head toward Jazz's body. "And you have flecks of white paint on your body."
"Oh man!" Jazz muttered, looking down his plating for signs of evidence. When his normal spotless self shone back his guilty optics rose to meet Prowl's triumphant face. "It was just a joke. No one got hurt."
"Except Sunstreaker," Prowl said, his voice edged with anger. And was that concern, shown for Sunstreaker's well being?
"I'll go get Sunstreaker," Sideswipe said, hoping to leave the scariness behind.
"Good luck catching him,' Jazz said, waving toward the east. "He's half way to Idaho."
"This little incident will go on your permanent record," Prowl growled lowly, stepping forward and grasping Jazz's arm. His door wings were arched high in agitation.
"What a shame," Jazz rolled his optics behind his vision. Out of spite he sent a tendril of energy along his plating. It had its desired effect.
Prowl flicked a doorwing at the sharp sting. He knew Jazz didn't like being touched or having his personal space invaded. And there was the fact that he refused to be incarcerated and escaped the brig like it was a piece of oil cake every time he was sentenced. Nevertheless, Prowl had every intention of marching the saboteur to his awaiting cell. There were a few new modifications due to Wheeljack's engineering, and if the cell didn't blow up, Jazz would be a guest for an extended period. Hopefully this little stunt would make him see reason. And give him second thoughts about sneaking out of the brig in the first place. Course, he always ended up in Prowl's quarters attempting pre-meditated murder but the outcome was always the same. Jazz learned his place, very quickly, efficiently, and sometimes with brutal force.
Not that he complained.
"I'll comm. when I can," Sideswipe said before transforming and disappearing in the same direction as his brother.
"Brig," Prowl growled, his fingers tightening their hold.
Jazz didn't even flinch. He nodded to Bumblebee and Windcharger, both were wearing identical looks of confusion.
"At least now we know what can keep the twins under control," Jazz said. Instead of trying to pull away from his capture, he stepped toward him, sending his EM field running in chaotic fluxes against Prowl's own stable field. Prowl didn't flinch. He was used to sensing Jazz's EM field.
Jazz's words sunk in and Prowl faltered, lessening his hold. He turned his optics to stare at the two minibots, Jazz's gaze following, a smirk on his lip plates.
Bumblebee and Windcharger were painted solid white with brilliant confetti-like flecks and flowers of every color imaginable decorating their bodies. Their faces were painted white as well except for the bright red haloes around their eyes and mouths. Both of their pedes were painted a ghastly, brilliant red to match their faces.
"What's so scary about clowns?" Jazz said out loud, staring at the two who he thought looked rather cute in such decoration.
"Greasepaint," Prowl grunted, squeezing Jazz's arm to gain his attention. When Jazz turned a surprised look at him, Prowl spun him around and marched him forcibly to the brig, where Jazz remained until the end of his sentence. His cell was soon occupied by Sunstreaker, who had beaten the slag out of the Porsche immediately upon his release.
When Jazz woke up under Ratchet's tender care, he cursed the Lamborghini designation while his body was put back together with the pieces that had been recovered.
-OOO—000—IIII-000-OOOO-IIII-0000-OOOOOO
I'm not afraid of clowns, I just don't like them. I don't like the idea of a stranger wearing so much make up and paint that you can't give a detailed description.
Don't know if this had been done already but it hasn't been done by me until now, so…. *big grin*
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