Chapter Four: Slaughter City Frontline

Two other mecha disembarked at Slaughter City from the transport that was looping through the area from Iacon. One of the cargo hatches was also open, crates being hurriedly unloaded so that the ship could continue on to its next destination. He had not been in contact with either of them during his training and so did not have any idea what they had been sent there for. One of them appeared to be a mech returning from somewhere else as he was greeted with a smile and some playful ribbing as he headed into the base. The other, a mech that almost appeared to be a femme with how delicately he was framed, looked around before following after the other mech.

Prowl settled in to wait for his new corporal to emerge from the base, as he had been instructed to within his orders. He figured it would be best to not antagonize those who would be giving him orders as soon as he arrived or, at least, to aggravate them as little as he possibly could. Later, however, was a different matter. His quadmates had always asserted that he was a particularly aggravating mech at times, especially if he was unknown to someone.

He waited for approximately a breem, and watched the transport leave, before a large femme entered the hangar. She strode directly to him, acknowledging those that were working on unloading the crates of supplies as she was greeted.

"Prowl?" she asked, motioning for him to join her as she walked through to the other side of the hangar and out into the main base. "Welcome to Slaughter City, what little there is to welcome someone here. I won't waste either of our time with pleasantries. Corporal Brakelight. You're my newest recruit. Mismatch gave you a glowing recommendation, so you got sent to the thick of it. I have a strict training schedule. Every first dark cycle, my unit goes through training simulations. They are based on past battles. You are expected there for this one as well." She waved toward a much slimmer mech that they were walking up to. "This is Tripper. He will get you orientated on base and make sure that you have all of the other information you will need. I will see you this dark cycle."

He watched her leave from where he had been left standing beside the orange and golden yellow mech that appeared to be of Polyhexian origin.

"Welp, yer screwed," Tripped stated fatalistically, pulling a datapad from subspace and shoving it into the winged mech's hands. "She's 'ardes' on new 'cruits. Mos' fail outta 'er unit and then get 'ssigned ta which c'n act'lly use 'em." He shrugged. "Ah'll show ya 'roun'. Base's kin'a a bit 'fusin' if'n ya don' know where yer 'eaded. An', jus' so's ya know, she wa'n't jokin' 'bout trainin'. Now, where ya wanna star' 'ere?"

"Perhaps we should begin with the tour," Prowl suggested, glancing at the datapad that he was now holding. His amber optics had lightened, giving away just how overwhelmed he was feeling at that moment. Barricade brushed up against his spark with his unwavering support, bringing Prowl's awareness back to the mech that had been speaking to him. He curled into the warmth with a surge of delight. "I would hate to be late to training."

Tripper chortled. "She's qui' tha scareh femme, righ'?"

"Quite," he agreed, shaking himself out of his stupor.

"We'll star' wit' tha 'spens'ry an' tha rec room. 'Ey're tha mos' 'portan' places otha than yer room." The smaller mech headed off to the west, along a wide hallway. "Tha wi' 'allways're gonna lead ya ta tha main par's ah base. Rec room and 'spens'ry're in tha middle'a tha firs' floor. Secur'ty Centah's righ' 'bove it wit' tha res'a tha off'ces 'roun' it. Trainin' rooms're 'roun' tha centah on tha firs' floor. Weapons room's on tha nor' si'a tha rec room. We bunk in tha buil'in' ta tha sou'. I's connec'ed ta tha main par'a base through a 'allway, tunnel type'a thin'. 'Ones'ly, we coul' pro'ly jus' give ya a map'a tha base an' ya coul' fin' yer way 'roun', bu' ya'd en' up gettin' 'ttacked. Real easeh layout fer tha place." They stopped in the large open area in the center of the first floor of the base.

It was quite easy to tell that this was the rec room. There were numerous couches and other forms of seating scattered around, tables were folded and stacked to the sides, and vid screens were circled off to the side - a configuration that led Prowl to believe that there were many competitions that required multiple players. Surprisingly, there was even a small cabinet that was propped open, revealing stacks upon stacks of board games and cards. In all, it was much better cared for than most of the rec rooms he had ever seen, both during his time in Black Ops and since he had joined the Autobots (the transport had stopped at a few bases over the dark cycles on their way to Slaughter City).

Tripper joined a small group of like-framed mecha as they entered, their chatter echoing through the mostly empty room. It was to be expected, being the middle of the second light cycle of the orn. While they spoke, Prowl wandered over to inspect the board games. He knew of few others who appreciated them as much as his Quad had, and so had not expected there to be any here. His wings flared a bit wider than their normal set and came forward to better gather data, both of what was in front of him as well as what was behind him.

As he pulled the containers out of the cabinet and inspected them before putting them down in several different stacks, someone came up behind him to see what he was doing. The variety of games they possessed was quite impressive, though nothing compared to the variety he and his quadmates had once owned. The mecha that was behind him shifted slightly and caused his wings to stiffen almost imperceptibly. It was an uncomfortable sensation to have someone standing behind him, staring at him. There had been no cutoff in the murmur of the Polyhexians' conversation to indicate that they were concerned about whoever it was. Since they had not called out a welcome, the mecha was either someone they did not get along with or someone from their table. As it was quite difficult to become a mecha that Polyhexians, as a group, disliked enough to ignore to such an extent, it was likely to be the latter.

As a hand reached toward his wing, he tucked them close and spun, dagger extending from his forearm plating in preparation for an attack. He encountered a small, slim femme, magenta in color, her arm still outstretched in an attempt to touch him. Her silver optics were spiralled wide in her surprise.

"They got sensors?" she asked, dumbfounded. "But they don't look like they could!"

The knife retracted into his plating as he straightened, careful of the placement of his feet and wings as he did so. "My wings do have sensors," he confirmed. "Why would they not?"

"Because they have to be decorative! There aren't any frames like this and ya only see wings like those in plays and tha like!" She waved her hands as she spoke, apparently to emphasize her point, though Prowl could not see it.

"It is an almost extinct subclass of the Praxian frame type," he stated, sending a soothing pulse toward his quadmate. Barricade had felt calm fall over him, a sure sign of his distress and mental state as he smoothed out in such a way whenever he was going into a situation that could prove dangerous, and was prepared to back him up if there were to be a need. That ability was a quirk of their bond, allowing them to absorb information, move as if they were the other mech, and also provide further spark energy to keep a fight going for longer than many mecha would suspect for their particular frame types.

"But don't no medics know how to repair a frame like that. Why would ya ever choose it?" she asked, still beyond befuddled by the mech that stood before her. He was pretty to look at, sure, but there was no way his frame could ever be considered anything other than decorational. She would learn that was not the case with this particular mech over the next while, but was sure at that point in their acquaintance. "I's jus' not practical!"

He hummed lowly. It was true that his frame was not what most would consider practical as so few knew of its capabilities, which his training had only expanded on. However, to come right out and say such a thing was not what he had been expecting of anyone. He had hoped to prove himself, at least a little bit, before being forced to confront the prejudice he normally faced from everyone around him.

"I have training relatively soon. We shall see how I hold up in that," he replied, partially dodging the questions and partially letting them know that there would be a way to observe him. If this base was anything like any of the others he had recently been in, then there would be cameras set up in almost all of the rooms, sometimes multiple, and there would even be an observation deck that mecha would be able to watch from.

She cringed. "Corp'ral Brakeligh's gonna chew ya up an' send ya runnin'. Def'nitely don't envy ya. 'Er trainin's diff'cult ta say tha leas'. An' 'er team," she trailed off, shaking her helm. There was little that could be said about them that would not send the mech running the other way. Most of those that had been told of them before training had requested to be switched to another unit even before they had participated in the scheduled exercise as there was little to recommend them. They had a high mortality rate for new mecha, if they even lasted long enough to make it out onto the battlefield with them, and were more rough and ragged than most anyone had encountered in their entire activations.

Prowl shrugged fatalistically. There was little that he could do to change the opinion of anyone about his frame until he could demonstrate just how well he functioned and the degree of his training. It had always been an asset in the past, but he was beginning to find it annoying to be so underestimated by mecha that had only seen him for the first time less than a joor before. Barricade sent him reassurance and his unwavering support and affection. Nothing would be as it had been before Traction and Drivetrain's deactivations and he would have to adapt. It was much slower going for Prowl than it was for Barricade, however. They were just different in respect to their adaptability in social interactions. He had never been required to change that much, whereas his quadmate had changed much between different assignments.

"We will just have to see how training goes," he stated before dismissing her and turning back to his inspection of the board games, sensors collecting data on his surroundings the entire time.