Smokescreen was not in the mood to deal with Red Alert, so rather than set out to the security bay, the mech headed towards the Aerialbots' dorm room, intent on beginning his questioning with Air Raid. He was surprised, however, when the younger bot answered the door almost immediately after Smokescreen pressed the call button.
"Yo," the younger bot smiled."You alright after last night? Mirage told me what happened."
"You… didn't know what happened?" Smokescreen asked, looking perplexed.
"Man, that fight musta done something' to your processor," the jet said, knuckling his fellow Autobot's forehead. "As younger mechs, me and my bros get overcharged quickly, so I was passed out waaay before the fight broke out. Anyways, why have you come a'callin'?"
Oh, right, Smokescreen thought. Raider couldn't have been the thief. "Never mind," the blue Datsun said, and walked off.
Air Raid stared after Smokescreen for a few moments, and slipped back into his shared room.
888
Next, Smokescreen headed towards the combat training room, where Blades was almost eternally. He caught site of the street fighter ripping the arms off a training dummy that had the Combaticon Vortex's (Blades' nemesis) face on it.
"Whoah, easy there, kid. We don't have a lot of those, you know," he called to his angry comrade, who had just ripped off the dummy's head and was pummeling it.
"What do you want?" the helicopter snarled, never looking away from his target.
"I was wondering, what exactly happened last night?" the gambler asked.
"Why do ya ask?" the Protectobot asked, grabbing a gun off some racks on the wall.
"Well, I want…to have a shot at whoever busted me up," Smokescreen lied.
Blades eyed him, then smirked. "It sure as the Pit wasn't me, or not even Primus the Lord of Light himself could fix you up," he grinned, all the while shooting the frag out of the the training dummy. Smokescreen winced with each blast, and made a mental note to call Blades in for a therapy session soon.
Realizing that Blades was telling the truth, the gambler/psychologist/distractions expert waved good-bye and walked out of the room, all the while hearing the persistent gunfire. "Yeah, the kid needs a session," he muttered to himself, and quickly began to run.