Chapter Seventeen
21st December
1200hrs
Shift change.
It wasn't exactly the most glamorous duty available currently, sitting in front of a monitor watching that yellow narcissistic pile of metal scream and holler and generally just make a nuisance of himself in a small cell. At least he got to sit though, that was a plus, and it certainly wasn't strenuous activity, its probably why he got assigned this task.
The small mech, of some form of pinkish orange colouring, lent back in the chair, flicked his feet up on the panel and changed one of the channels to something dedicated to the fleshlings' young. There were a group of well groomed immature human males dancing, it sounded terrible really, the term "Jonas brothers" flashed across the bottom of the screen and it certainly was something he was interested in watching.
Sunstreaker's screaming floated to his audios through the small speaker and the minibot just switched off the sound, he did the same for the one that monitored the other twin. There wasn't too much trouble they could get up to in such small cells, locked, and padded. He turned his attention to the youthful and badly sung shenanigans the human males were getting into.
The doors swished open but Wheelie maintained his concentration on the monitors – even if it was displaying what he was supposed to be focused on. The doors swished again and he accepted that whoever had entered had left again without speaking or perhaps it was someone who had walked into the wrong room. Primus knew, Wheelie had done that enough times. It swished again and he gave consideration that perhaps they had come back in… maybe they'd realised he wasn't paying attention enough to his post and they were going to give him an audio fill? Wheelie kept his optics on the screen and stared intently at it as he felt as though another's optics were upon him. He tried to ignore it, pretend he hadn't noticed, but it was rather oppressive. He inwardly cringed and wondered how long they were going to stand there behind him, watching. The minibot contemplated saying something but what if it was one of the officers! Uh oh… what if they were going to shred him out for not being alert enough to be aware that someone was there. He spun around slowly on his chair and intended to publicise his awareness. Instead, he found the room empty and the doors still opened.
That was odd.
He stood up and walked slowly towards the opening. The doors had a sensor that monitored an area around it and if one walked into that range the doors opened, once someone was out of that range it was shut. But he was not in range, and no one could be seen in the hall way that would be triggering the door. Of course, it was probably a glitch, an irritating, interrupting glitch. He knew nothing about fixing such glitches and so thought better of attempting it. Of course, the problem now was any passerby could see him not watching those mean old twins. Wheelie reached out to touch the control panel and before his metallic phalange could press the red button the door swished shut, well, more to the point it slammed shut, the metal making a rather unnatural clanging sound. It was usually muffled, such force damaging to the internal turn belt. The little bot many considered a prat shrugged and turned back to the panel and his Jonas brothers antics.
The doors continued to swish open then shut violently, Wheelie just ignored it, and connected his audios directly via a wireless method unknown to human science – it worked essentially as head phones so the swishing of the doors would not interrupt his puerile entertainment. The eldest brother was dancing on a table in a tutu after ingesting something the younger one had cooked and laced with large amounts of sucrose. Wheelie giggled and then received a good slap in the back of the head.
He spun around immediately, his hand going up to the back of his head to cradle at the injury that showed no outward sign of irritant. It hurt, that much was true. There was no one there. That was also true. Wheelie stood and looked around the room, his hand still on the back of his head. He groaned and uttered a few Cybertronian curse words that he strung together in his usual rhyming tone. There certainly wasn't any evidence of anyone having been there. There were Autobots that could make themselves invisible, but weren't they dead? He didn't know their fate. Perhaps it was a prank. Perhaps it was a Decepticon? Perhaps it was his imagination. He shrugged his shoulders and began to turn back to see the youngest Jonas brother engaged in an over fuelling contest, as he did so, the small minibot found himself flying through the air towards the screen.
He was not capable of flight.
He smashed head first into the glass panelling and the force that propelled him continued to force him further into the inner components of the computer that monitored the twins. He could feel the twisting metal gorge into his plating; the wriggling wires scratch his delicate optics, the electrical currents that made their passage through those wires conducted over his form interrupting his own electronic processes. They started to pulse, and his sensors made him acutely aware they were increasing in their voltage. To anyone else in audio shot they would have heard a tremendous crack; their optics would have picked up the flickering of lights and equipment before everything went dead. Including the small minibot who's body now protruded from the consol.
--
1330hrs.
"It'd be enough to short ole Vector. Perceptor said it'd take someone of some over compensated amount of brains to be able to by pass all the safeties to get the power to that level".
The old timer stood there watching as two other, essentially nameless mechs removed the fried chassis.
"O' course he'll know more after the post-off lining. Yet, its kinda creepy, Lad, to have someone creeping through Autobot City doing things like this… weren't no accident, I'll give you that much!"
Kup crossed his arms over his chest as the contorted shell was finally removed and laid on the portable berth.
"Ooh…"
Kup looked away.
"That ain't no way for a 'bot to go, Magnus".
The look etched into Wheelie's faceplates was one that evidenced both surprise and complete and utter affliction of fear.
"What in the name of Primus put a look like that on the boy's face plates?"
Kup whispered as the two nameless mechs covered his mortal remains.
"You're in charge of this investigation".
Magnus said suddenly. He'd remained quiet during most of the briefing and all of Kup's ramblings, the old mech was basically saying what everyone else was thinking, added to which was a few old stories and mixed clichés.
"How you want us to go about this? Do you want it public?"
"Absolutely not. No need to start fear mongering. There were plenty of Decepticons on our property not that long ago; there could be still be one lingering about. He could have done this on purpose or was startled by…"
Magnus couldn't recall the minibot's name and so ended his statement. Kup didn't point it out. The body was removed from the room and their sights, but the look in those blackened optics and the way his lip components curved themselves into a warped shape resembling a black hole was… well… creepy, it'd haunt him to the day his CPU fired its last signal off, his consciousness disappearing into the Matrix.
"Use your discernment Kup, and use whoever you feel necessary to assist in locating the source of this incident. It could prove to be an entirely scientifically proven accident, or perhaps this is a result of blatant stupidity".
Magnus gave the remains of the consol one last glance before turning and walking out those once malfunctioning doors.
"And see it to the prisoners are continually monitored from another local, just because this room is non-functional does not mean our duty of watch is voided".
The city commander said as he disappeared out into the hall, his heavy footsteps eventually dying away into silence the further he tracked from Kup's audio range.
Kup was alone in the room.
It felt eerie, and the pool of dried energon dripping from and surrounding the consol's newest feature didn't help. It was odd to think such an event could be an accident, or even something resulting from childish antics. Regardless, he'd get to the bottom of it.
He felt as if he was being watched as he walked to the door. He stood there for a moment, searched the room with his aged optics and sighed.
Something was going on, and it sure as the Pit was hot, had nothing to do with wayward Decepticons.
-
Author's NB: I hate Wheelie. I detest him. Somewhere on Lexicon is an essay I wrote about him years ago about how much of a little arse he is. And I feel aggrieved that I had to put up with his story (which didn't make him cool) polluting the Spotlight volume I got the other day.
I don't buy singles.
Seriously, I'd rather be stuck on a desert island with second degree burns, eyeball herpes (which you don't want), head lice and no one but Jar Jar Binks, Scrappy Doo, Elmo, the manager from "Office Space" and those damn Twins Skids and Mudflap to keep me company then put up with noting a picture of Wheelie.