Author: Gatekat and baka_no_neko on LJ
Pairing: Trigger/Amunet Mubarak
Rating: NC-17 for mech/female
Codes: Het, Sticky, Xeno (Transformer/Human)
Summary: The hunts finished, time to return to base. But what's waiting for Trigger when he gets back?
Notes: Set in the Point of View fanverse at http:/community .livejournal .com/tf_matrix
"text" translated Cybertronian.
"text" Organic languages translated via socket software
Trigger Happy 6: Making Peace
His wheels spun as he came to a stop off the plane, it felt good to be on solid ground again. He'd have to stop by medbay to get a checkup, but after that Trigger was eager for a decent wash down in the 'racks. He'd kept Amunet comfortable on the way back, staying in his alt form for the duration of the flight. So when the Captain was a safe distance away, he folded and morphed back into his bipedal self.
Door wings stretched up and out as he vented deeply, the humid air nothing to the Congo's heat. But it was nice to be back. He'd been considering going to visit the Salvage team to see if he could get any more free parts for his traps, seeing as Jazz had worked him dry. Thinking about the Saboteur left him rather cold, they hadn't parted on best terms. He only hoped that Prowl had managed to calm his bonded down. But seeing as the base was still standing, he must have done a good job.
Hopefully he could avoid his CO for a little while, know that soon enough their inevitable confrontation would happen.
::Prowl to Trigger,:: his internal comm beeped at him.
One optic brightened and he gave a grumble, the 'racks would have to wait.
::Trigger here,:: he answered, getting off the runway.
::Be aware that Jazz is on base. While he's not looking for you yet, be prepared to give a sincere apology or finish that fight when you do cross paths,:: the TIC told him calmly. ::He is still rather furious.::
::Understood,:: the hunter bot moved under cover, careful to avoid any organics about his large feet. He'd have to keep a beady optic open for the Saboteur.
::You have at least two joor before he will care that you have landed,:: Prowl added. ::He is quite involved with Whiplash at the moment.::
Grinning, Trigger moved down the hall way in search of the 'racks. ::I will get through my to-do list before my imminent offlining then. Thanks for the warning sir.::
::You are welcome,:: Prowl responded before closing the line, leaving Trigger to his shower, medical appointment and to compose his apology.
Trigger enjoyed the rather short wash down, the pressure of the water was wonderful on his sensitive servos and door wings. Though Ratchet's rather grumpy, ::Don't keep me waiting, I've got other mechs to see.:: put an end to the delight.
After a being thoroughly scanned, prodded and several bolts tightened, Trigger exited the medbay with a backward call of, "Thanks Doc" only receiving a vent of air in return.
Now, what to do until Jazz hunted him down? Or should he hunt Jazz down, be proactive about it?
He paused to look up the records on Whiplash, and shuddered. The lack of content on SpecOps agent spoke volumes about his missions. What little it did say didn't make Trigger feel any better about trying to go anywhere he was.
He growled. "Slagging OPs mechs."
He considered waiting until Jazz had finished with Whiplash, but he didn't know how long he'd be. His guess would be that 2 joors.
"Might as well grab a cube in the Rec room until then." After all, he had to figure out just what he was going to do, or say.
Those two joors passed by rather quickly in the time that Trigger sat contemplating. He knew fighting the Saboteur was suicide, so apologizing was his best option. But how to make the silver mech believe it was another matter.
Sure, he respected Prowl greatly, but Trigger believed he'd only said what was needed to get the job done. Truthfully, his pride was telling him to slag it all and say no. But it would make his stay here impossible, or even see him prematurely offlined.
So tossing the datapad he'd been pretending to analyze down, the Pagani vented and stretched. He plodded out the rec room in search of Jazz. As an afterthought, he pinged the base computer, just to see if Jazz was 'visible' on it ... As SIC he must be locatable much of the time.
It came back with 'Sparing Field 2'.
"Sparing Field? Perfect. Just begging to kick my aft" he grumbled inwardly, following the directions given to him by the main computer.
Door wings raised slightly, he followed the route with some reluctance. The closer to the sparing pitch he got, the more and more mechs he came across. His optical ridges lowered and he vented quietly, so much for doing this privately.
He worked his way to the near edge of the sparing field he caught sight of why there was so much attention. Jazz was paired off against a white mech nearly as large as Ironhide but with sleek lines and a grace that made him an equal to the small silver mech he was up against. Both were equipped with blades; Jazz the long daggers he seemed to prefer, though this pair were not forged energon, while the white mech had two longswords of intricate design.
"Who're you betting on?" a silver mech near twice Trigger's height asked cheerfully.
He was on edge this close to others, his door wings snapped shut when the tall silver mech spoke. His HUD flickered through files and the name Sideswipe popped up. A frontliner.
Optics glanced up at Sideswipe before flitting back to the fight. "Don't know the other mech," he watched Jazz move with deadly grace, "So my credits would be on Jazz."
A gleeful chuckle rumbled from Sideswipe. "You chipping in on the pool then?"
Optics brightened for a moment considering, before Trigger shook his helm and took out the required credits. "What have I got to loose ... but my aft," he grumbled the last part.
"Oh?" Sideswipe was suddenly very interested even as he recorded the bet and took the credit chips. "You going up against one of'm next?"
Venting, Trigger's doors twitched. "If I'm not good at apologies then yeah, more than likely."
Sideswipe's optic ridge lifted, then a surprised look flashed across his features. "So you're the reason he's been in the Unmaker's mood since he got back." He looked at the much smaller mech with a new level of appraisal that gradually shifted to approval. "Okay, color me impressed. What in Primus' name did you do that got him so torqued off?"
Moving restlessly, Trigger watched the sparing pair whilst he spoke. "Broke the number one code, never insult someone's bonded."
Sideswipe twitched, a short burst of static escaping his vocalizer before he controlled himself, only to loose it a moment later into peals of laughter.
"Oh pits, no wonder he wanted to kill somebody," bright ice-blue optics glittered in delight. "So you used Prowl to trip him up enough to send him home?" there was no masking the glee in the frontliner's voice. "I'll treat you to a cube of my special brew if you come over and give a full retelling."
Even as Trigger worked out the offer, a surprised sound rippled across the crowd as Drift took advantage of Jazz's momentary distraction to punch him squarely in the chest, sending the much smaller mech sailing across the sparring field to a tumbling stop on the far side.
"Assuming you survive the next couple breems," the golden twin of Sideswipe spoke up.
Trigger's servos revolved before he could stop himself, his machine gun creaking. But he halted the transformation as Jazz rolled to a stop, yellow optics narrowing to stalk his every move now.
"You don't say," he muttered, not meaning to sound rude as his attention was elsewhere. "I'm no fragging brawler, for my sake I hope this is quick."
"If he's really out to kill you, it will be," Sunstreaker said with a grunt as Jazz rejoined the match with Drift. "Prime doesn't let him draw it out."
"That's good to know, less scrap metal that way," he vented, glancing at the sudden appearance of the second twin. He'd heard about these two, now that he could see them together it was clear they were a formidable force, custom built for the war effort.
Attention focused back on the blade battle of size vs. agility. They were both scoring hits here and there, but neither seemed to have a clear edge. Trigger expected Jazz would win, but not quickly. They were both definitely determined fighters.
He watched with a tense frame, door wings tightly shut. It would take time for this match to finish and it gave him time to analyze his situation.
The match ended with a sudden move where Jazz knocked Drift's legs out from under him and had his longer blade braced against the samurai's chest plates, tip above his spark.
"I yield," Drift actually smiled up at the small silver mech as he extended his arms and let his swords fall from his fingers.
The clatter of Drift's blades had jolted the hunter bot from his brooding, optics slightly wide in alarm. He was pleased to see the outcome of the fight. One, this confrontation could be over and done with soon, which ever way it tilted. And two, he had low on credit chips. Even though this betting pool wouldn't have a big payout, he'd pick up a few extra from choosing Jazz.
"Pit of a match," Jazz grinned and flipped his short sword up and into subspace and offered a hand up to his opponent. "You've gotten a lot better since Diremitri Six.."
"Thank you," Drift accepted the hand, though he dealt with much of his own mass as his stood.
Bracing himself, Trigger moved passed a couple of mechs to come into line of plain sight. But he was more than convinced that the Saboteur knew he was there. "Jazz..."
Jazz flashed him a look of acknowledgment before stepping away from Drift and exchanging a formal bow with the larger mech. Only then did he fully turn and motioned Trigger to follow him away from the crowd.
Trigger following cautiously after the silver mech and avoided the curious optics that followed them. He wasn't sure how much anyone knew, but he had little doubt most had put two and two together by now and realized he was a likely cause of their SIC's fowl mood lately.
Jazz turned to face him when they were in the relative privacy between a couple storage buildings and regarded him evenly, offering the hunter the first chance to talk.
He faced Jazz squarely, but kept his posture as loose as he could. "What I said during the hunt was unfair and cruel. For that, I apologize." Optics dimmed slightly as he continued, "Prowl is excellent commander. I was wrong to say what I did." Those optics narrowed ever so slightly. "I will however add that I did what I felt necessary to complete my mission. And I will stand by that."
Jazz shifted, one hip dropping as he settled his hands on them. There was a moment of judgment, and he nodded. "Apology accepted, and I happen to agree with you." He brought both his arms forward, fingers splayed and arms at an angle that would make targeting Trigger with anything mounted in them difficult and pulling a subspaced weapon even harder. "Peace?"
Trigger's door wings betrayed him and lifted ever so slightly, his yellow optics bright with caution. This was too easy. Not just like that? Surely?
But in order to progress, he hesitantly copied the gesture of neutrality. "Peace."
"Good," Jazz relaxed, then cracked a grin. "Yes, really that easy. You did get it right, Prowl's my weakness. He wants peace, so I'll make peace, even when that means forgiving an insult to him."
The hunter bot seemed to sag ever so slightly, relief evident. "It was an interesting lesson regardless. As was the entire hunt. I'll have to work on my perimeters so they don't give my processor such an afterburn."
"It was a good hunt," Jazz's grin got a little more real. "Maybe we'll try again, say the desert next time and invite a couple more variables?"
Yellow optics brightened considerably at the prospect, such an environment suiting him just fine. "I look forward to the challenge."