Disclaimer: I own nothing – at least nothing Transformers related.
AN: Wow, that went better than expected. I mean, I only had a vague idea what to do but it sort of just flowed out of my fingers.
The only problem was the start. It's kind of hard writing about Swindle and Greed when the first song playing in your headphones is "If Everyone Cared" by Nickelback. XD
Thanks to mdnytryder for correcting and betaing.
26/28 Greedy
It was quiet in the Nemesis.
Too quiet.
Swindle frowned and looked over his shoulder, wondering if Soundwave stood around the next corner, waiting for the one wrong thought from the small Combaticon to throw him into the brig for attempted theft.
One could be never too careful with that slagging telepath....
But then again, it was more likely that Soundwave was lying on his berth at this very moment, moaning in that horrendous monotone of his, while his Creations were scattered over and around his chassis, suffering as well.
Swindle's shoulders sagged in relief.
The whole Decepticon army had been incapacitated for the past two human weeks, every single mech berthridden because of a really tricky virus that the Constructicons just couldn't get a grip on.
But, from time to time, Swindle would forget that right now, even Megatron and Soundwave were incapable of doing anything but to simply suffer in their quarters, while sneezing gooey Energon and try to cool their overheating systems.
Swindle trotted on, all his worries forgotten.
His goal was the Energon storage room, a normally tightly secured and guarded part of the ship.
Swindle's Personal Paradise, he had decided, after visiting it for the first time in his unrestricted, two-week long snoop-fest on his superior officers.
For some reason, not even Hook could fathom why, Swindle seemed to be immune from the virus that was torturing his comrades.
"That's just wonderful," Vortex had commented. "Greedy like a glitch, but the one thing he doesn't want, he isn't getting. It's unfair."
Then he had curled up under a cooling blanket and sniffled, his rotors just barely poking out.
"Must be the filth he's surrounded himself with for the past vorns," had been Scrapper's dry opinion.
Onslaught had tried to look insulted on his entire team's behalf, but his optics had started leaking lubricants so badly, that Swindle had to choke back a laugh at the sight.
The small Combaticon doubted that Scrapper had even noticed, the Constructicon's vision being a little bit blurry, too.
The final result was, however, that Swindle was practically ruler of the base right now.
He could do what he wanted, when he wanted, and nobody was there to stop him – or to even be the wiser.
So Swindle, all business like usual, had decided to "visit" the Energon storage room from time to time to stock up his own reserves.
Sometime in the future, his peers would be healthy, hungry and fun-starved little Decepticons again and then he could provide them with good quality Energon and Highgrade, at a "fair" prize, while the armies' own Energon storage was running low.
But, not too low.
Swindle always was careful not to take too many cubes or Megatron would notice his little escapade and punish him severely – when he could lift his fusion cannon again without falling over.
The jeep snickered and began to fill his subspace with brightly glowing cubes.
Two cubes to convert into Highgrade, one to be sold as general Energon, one cube for his personal stock, one cube for his team's stock, another two cubes to sell as Highgrade….
One slightly-dimished line of cubes later, Swindle was satisfied and ready to slink back into his quarters to hide his treasure away.
There was one problem, however.
A winged shape lazily leaning in the doorway, a smirk on the dark faceplates that would have made a Cheshire cat proud and red optics dimmed to a falsely innocent hue that just screamed "danger".
Swindle gulped.
The problem with practically being the ruler of the base was the little word "practically".
Because the Combaticon was ruler of the base as long as he managed to conveniently forget that Starscream was healthy as well.
Unlike Swindle, the Constructicons had a fairly good idea why the Screaming One was still as obnoxious as ever.
As a former explorer and scientist, Starscream's antiviral software was the top notch, and probably developed and upgraded by some of the best processors Cybertron had had to offer, not to mention Starscream himself.
Ever since it had become clear that the SIC showed no sign whatsoever of the cruel virus that had the whole army in its iron grasp, the Constructicons had itched to get a grip on his software.
But, like Megatron and the rest of the army, they were aware that Starscream would rather destroy his antiviral software and succumb to the illness himself than to see his peers getting cured without him having had the time to adequately mock them.
So every Con on the Nemesis just waited patiently until the Seeker became tired of his game called "How can I make fun of the ill sissies today?" and bore his insults and laughter.
Or they would just have to wait until he ran out of materials for his lab and needed a grunt or two to get him some new stuff to play with.
But then again, Starscream wouldn't have been a Con if he wouldn't take advantage of this situation to the fullest.
Ironically, the Autobots had almost the same problem.
They, too, had caught that particular virus, and like the Constructicons, Ratchet had no idea how to cure it yet.
And they also had one former explorer in their midst, who probably was as immune to the virus as Starscream was.
But, said explorer was on Cybertron right now, his return to Earth via Spacebridge hindered by a sunstorm messing with the controls and coordinating system.
So the Autobots were also stuck in the base, suffering, sniffling and as weak as newborn humans.
It had been a fun scene to watch both sides agree upon a temporary truce until a cure was found.
Both leaders had sat in front of their respective vidscreens, each one refusing to back down, staring at their rival through blurry, lubricant coated optics, sniffing from time to time. It had gone on for one hour, Starscream all the while sitting in the background, feet propped onto one console and laughing himself silly.
By the end of the hour even Jazz's – amicable, easy-going, ever-smiling JAZZ – look had become rather frosty, his usual grin a little bit weak right now, twitching and threatening to fall right off of his face, his hands curling as if he was about to murder the Seeker.
Finally Megatron had suddenly stood up, groaned "Fragg it all!" and gone to his quarters to nurse his pounding processor, leaving the truce sort of established.
But, back to the present and to Swindle, the sort-of-but-not-quite-temporary-ruler-of-the-Decepticons-if-there-wouldn't-be-Starscream-having-a-blast-because-of-the-whole-situation-and-a-way-too-big-grin-to-be-legally-allowed-on-his-faceplates.
"Well, well, look what I have caught – a little thief," the Seeker purred and, impossible as it may seem, that grin became even wider. "I would call you sneaky, but you all but sauntered into this room, thinking that you could delete the video footage later and all…. Now, what do I do with you?"
The Seeker pondered for a moment, tapping his lips in thought. Swindle relaxed.
If Starscream was, well, not quite playful, there was usually a way out.
"I could comm. Megatron, I'm sure he would just love to deal with a thief and his processor ache at the same time. He would probably decide that one of his problems would have to go forever and I doubt that our illustrious leader would blow his own processor to smithereens, but then again, one never knows…."
"How much do you want, Starscream" asked Swindle, who tired quickly of games where he hadn't made up the rules.
"Fifty-five percent." Suddenly Starscream was all business, posture straight and optics bright.
Swindle gasped, "Do you want to ruin me? I…."
"Sixty percent!" interrupted Starscream, the smirk creeping back on his faceplates.
Swindle opened the mouth, ready to charm Starscream into lowering his prize, after all, it was the Screaming One he was speaking to, one ego stroke here or there should be enough, but –
"Sixty-five percent!"
"You can't do that," whined Swindle, as Starscream mock-pouted at him, pretending to wipe a tear out of the corner of his optic, then preparing to up the stake.
Swindle interrupted him just in time, opening his subspace and flinging Energon cubes into his superior's waiting hands, all the while cursing and spewing insults like a drunken… well, like a drunken Decepticon.
Well, no regular Energon then, and no addition to his team's Energon reserves.
Their own fault for getting ill and leaving him with no leverage in the form of strong and bulky team members to sic on the Seeker if Starscream got too daring in his demands.
"It's always a pleasure doing business with you," said Starscream in a saccharine-sweet voice, smiling as if an Energon treat wouldn't melt in his mouth.
Swindle flipped him off, then began to trudge back to his quarters to calculate how much this - and all the other encounters he had had with Starscream in that particular storage room in the last two weeks - had cost him.
Swindle onlined to somebody heavily pounding on the door to his and his teammates' quarters and Vortex's pathetic whining to "shut the frag up".
Tempted to stay on his berth just for a while longer - until the others would pay him to open the door just to get their visitor to stop knocking and making so much horrible, horrible noise, - he thought otherwise when Megatron's almighty, if a bit hoarse, roar echoed throughout the whole base, clearly bellowing Swindle's designation.
Swindle moved to dive under his berth, just to be caught by Onslaught's hand.
With a great effort of will the Gestalt-leader managed to stumble to the door, open it and shoved his whimpering teammate into a clearly pissed off Megatron's arms.
He whispered, "Try to die as soundlessly as possible, thank you."
The door closed again and Swindle was on his own, staring up into the faceplates of his seething Supreme Commander.
"Megatron… fancy seeing you here… eh, what brings you here at this ungodly hour. Whatever it is, I'm sure I can get you a good price…."
Megatron swung him against the wall, the impact making Swindle's processor rattle, then the warlord just let him drop to the ground.
The yellow mech noticed two things when he finally stopped seeing double: one, Soundwave stood – or rather leant - on the wall beside his Commander, looking as miserable as one could look with a visor and a mouthguard; and two, Megatron was still lacking his fusion cannon.
So Swindle would be slowly and painfully beaten to death if his CO decided to do away with him.
"Swindle…," growled Megatron, and the Combaticon began to tremble even more.
"The Energon storage room! Now! You lead the way!"
The jeepformer scrambled to his feet before he got crushed by Megatron's first step and hurried to follow his instructions, his superiors following close behind him.
Finally they stood in the spacious room where the brightly glowing cubes were all neatly organized row by row.
"Swindle…," another growl, another frightened whimper.
"Explain!"
"Uh… what, Lord Megatron? It looks all to be in order…."
The dull red gaze above him darkened and Swindle hurried to add, "But if you want, I can organize the cubes anew. Perhaps in a circle? Or a Decepticon symbol?"
"Swindle…." This time the growl was so deep, Swindle could feel its rumble in his chassis.
"Yes, Lord Megatron, sir?"
"Stop bullshitting me!"
"Uh…."
Megatron pointed to Soundwave, then to a console at the far wall.
Soundwave took one look at the console – it was so far away, he would have to move from his comfortable position slumped against the wall to reach it - then he ejected Frenzy.
The cassette clattered to the ground, making no move to transform at all.
Soundwave ejected another cassette, black this time, but Ravage also refused to move, other than to transform and curl up at her Creators feet, looking pitifully up at him.
The TIC glanced to his fuming Commander, the console s far, far away, then made a vague movement to try the next cassette.
Megatron blew air out of his vents, a few drops of lubricant spraying through the air.
"Swindle…. Activate the console."
The jeepformer obeyed hesitatingly, freezing in horror as the command to play the security feeds appeared on the screen.
But he was sure he had deleted all traces of his activities. And even if he hadn't, Starscream was on the tape as well, and the Seeker wouldn't have wanted to be seen blackmailing Swindle. Starscream may be a lot of things, but he was smart.
Swindle activated the feed on command and felt his Energon run cold and freeze in his lines.
Yes, Starscream was smart.
Smart enough to undo Swindle's tampering with the security feeds, while at the same time, erasing his own presence on the tapes.
"Lord Megatron, I can explain…."
His faint words were swallowed by a snort that sprayed sickly-colored Energon everywhere.
"Really, Swindle. Then, please, try to explain me, why did you see fit to take two thirds of all our Energon reserves for yourself. I could really use a good laugh right about now."
Swindle felt his knees wobble and his optics threatening to leak. Was he getting ill now, too?
"Two… two thirds? But… but I only took a fourth or so…."
When Megatron said nothing, just stared at him through blurry, but murderous optics, Swindle dived for the Energon.
There were so many cubes, he couldn't have taken two thirds.
He had only taken one or two rows in all, and there were all those other brightly shining, pink Energon cubes which – were fakes!
Swindle froze again, staring uncomprehendingly at the small, pinkish painted cube in his hands and then at the dozens of rows before him, all painted, all empty….
Starscream.
"Lord Megatron…."
"Swindle…."
The Combaticon flinched at that threatening growl in his right audio from Megatron standing right behind him.
"You've been had."
The yellow mech whimpered faintly, knowing these words to be the truth.
He didn't resist when Megatron's hand closed in a crushing grip around his throat and he was unceremoniously dragged over the ground, out of the door and down to the brig – and the torture chambers – and Megatron was really pissed – and… oh Primus, he was gonna die!!!
On their way down to the brig they passed Starscream, who was merrily skipping down the empty halls, a happy little smile on his face, mock bowing to Megatron as he passed and so sweet and innocent in his behavior that everybody could see that he was up to something.
Swindle caught the glint in Megatron's optics as his Commander looked at his SIC and suddenly he understood that the gunformer knew exactly what had transpired….
But Megatron could neither prove it, nor beat Starscream anyway, not if he ever wanted to see his army functional again.
Swindle was just his scapegoat.
The yellow mech whimpered again and curled up into himself.
His last view before the brig doors closed behind him, the smirking face of Starscream, who mockingly wriggled his fingers and blew him a kiss.