HUZZAH! It is finished!
Hello, lovelies. If you've noticed the recent fiction-spamming I did, it's because I know that I may not have time to write fanfiction in about a month. Maybe 3 weeks if my homework becomes that difficult.
So, to compensate for my forced absence, as well as the fact that the Internet is STILL not paid for at my place, I'm putting up some stuff for everyone to read. When the Holiday break hit, all I could do during any downtime was write and write and write, as if I were high.
Which I wasn't. Promise.
I am actually proud of this chapter. I'm usually harping on and on about how much a particular chapter is, but you know something?
While there are many things wrong with this chapter, I'm actually so, so glad I down this part of the story.
Hopefully, by now, you are all acquainted with the Cybertronian terminology I use in this fic. If not….
Body Parts(all approximate, and the anatomical chart I use for my stories):
Hands = Servos
Arms = Support Servos
Legs = Stabilizing Servos
Tongue = Glossa
Teeth = Denta
Feet = Landing Pads
Shoulders and Knees = Shoulderplates and kneeplates, respectively
Eyes = Optics
Fingers = Digits
Hips = Pistons
Lips = Lip Components
Mouth = Vocal Receptor
Ears = Audio Receptor
Neck = Chassis Pillar
Torso/Chest = Chassis
Body = Frame/Shell
Skin = Finish
Brain = Processor
Sections of brain = Lobes
Units of Time(all approximate, and the chronological chart I use for my stories):
Any time less than a second = Microklik
Second = Nanoklik
Minute = Klik
8.3 Minutes = Breem
Hour = Cycle
6 Hours = Joor
Day (both day and night) = Solar Cycle
Week = Decacycle
Month = Orbital Cycle
6 Months/Half a Stellar Cycle = Orn
Year = Stellar Cycle
83 Years = Vorn
Approx. 100 years = Megacycle
And, drum roll please! Introducing a very crucial chart for my stories, a chart I've been working on for a long time!:
Cybertronian Units of Length(all approximate, and the metrical chart I use for my stories)
Klep – 1 Decimeter (0.10 m)
Kil – 1 Fathom (6 ft.)
Mechanometer – 1 Meter (m)
Megamile – 1 Decameter (10 m)
Kix – 1 Hectometer (100 m)
Microquad – 2 ½ Hectometers (250 m)
Hic – 1 Kilometer (1,000 m, or 4 microquads)
Vun – 1 knot (6086 ft.)
Solar Rek– 1 League (3 knots)
Hope this helps.
I figured, a little after I put up the new chapter on DeviantArt, I should explain what the fudge my weird chapter titles mean.
I say "HA! Figure it out for yourselves!"
No really. I can only give you definitions of words and whatnot. What the titles mean to you, what you get from every chapter, only you will know first what it means. But, just for fun:
I wrote this during the Christmas week, when I came home from Holiday shopping and just wanted to relax.
Do any of you know the Christmas song 'Silent Night'?
Silent night,
holy night,
All is calm,
all is bright
If you do, you know how it goes. I guess I unconsciously injected some Holiday spirit into my writing, since, yes, I do like Christmas very much. The 'all is calm' part of the title juxtaposes the drama and emotion well, while the 'all is bright' part complements the lovely surprise we have at the end.
What is this surprise?
READ AND FIND OUT.
You know that if you have any questions, comments, concerns, criticisms, reviews, you need to let me know!
At this point, all I can say is: ENJOY! (and please, leave a review if you can :) )
Disclaimer: Transformers: Animated belongs to Hasbro.
I didn't believe them.
Why why WHY did I not listen to them?
To her?
She knew. And she was trying to protect me.
And now…
….she can't even go an orbital cycle
without seizing up and blanking out
on us.
My fault.
The experiments
Chromia nearly offlining in prison
The League nearly being uncovered and hunted down
my fault
my fault
Primus forgive me.
It was three solar cycles before I left Cybertron
Funny, really, because I never
never
intended to leave.
But it doesn't matter now
except
that 'it'…
I told myself i'd tell him later
and that he'd
understand.
He'd do the same if someone he loved would
offline
unless he did something.
I swear
I never wanted to hurt him
but
I
did.
Because he hurt me too.
But that wasn't right
justified
but not right
well reasoned
but not
okay.
It was only a hundred thousand credits.
Peh. Only a hundred thousand.
it was meant to get medical supplies to help Chromia because a piece of a prison wall crushed her head into an unidentifiable mash of metal and energon
…
they gave me her detached faceplates. stuck them in my servos, still wet with energon, her optics still wide open, lifeless yet still online
a hundred thousand
only a hundred thousand
big amount, but
it will save her.
They promised me.
plus another hundred, as hush payment, to keep the talkative guards quiet
after all
she didn't do it.
SHE DIDN'T DO ANY OF IT, YOU HEAR?
My mentor is not a terrorist. nor did she steal energon to nourish those 'lazy vagrants'.
Chromia is an innocent bot
…a hundred thousand credits….
small price to pay for her life.
Enough to safely and discreetly smuggle stuff needed for her operations
It would get whatever they needed to heal her, make her
whole
again.
Alright again.
enough to make Chromia Chromia again.
They promised me.
And Percy-Perceptor-said his only conditions were that I didn't use the credits for anything illegal
or to buy drugs or high-grade
and that i'd tell him what i'd be doing with it.
He helped me and i helped him
his card in exchange for my favorite yellow visor
my favorite cool-toned yellow visor
that protected my optics during training.
That protect him from the laboratories' nasty surprises.
My favorite
He said he was close enough to tell me everything
…He promised me.
Promised promised promised me.
He'd tell me everything, even if it hurt him
even if it
hurt
me.
but he didn't.
Why? To protect me. Did he not think i was strong enough?
No. No one does.
Well, i'll show him. I'll show them all.
I don't need them. don't need him.
Don't need him
Don't need him at all
It's not like he needed me to begin with. he had everything. even before i came into his life. there will be no consequence if i just…..disappear…..
if i just
leave
Come back, Moonracer, wherever you are. We need you.
We always need you.
Come back. Please.
Come back.
Primus, please….
…..go away. Because if you don't, I'll hurt you again.
All Is Calm, All Is Bright
or
A story of accidents, awkward discoveries, tender touches, lingering negativity, a ninja pondering,
something rotten and foul, old friends, orders and limits, and a shy but heartfelt thank-you.
{One orbital cycle and a megacycle after the return of Chromia Major and her team to Cybertron}
[Somewhere on Cybertron, en route to the Guild Scientius]
The words that Red Alert relayed to Firestar earlier echo in my processor, like a broken loop in a holo-recording.
"There was an explosion at the Guild Scientius."
There was an explosion at the Guild Scientius.
While accidents were normal at the sciencey Guild, the way Red gave the message made the four of us look worriedly at each other.
There was an explosion at the Guild Scientius.
I am the second fastest of the femmes of the Quintessa, but the recent discovery that calls for Firestar's medical emergency experience gives Chromia an edge over me, and her fortified alt-mode races past my cousin and I and nearly rams into our Lieutenant.
"If you're trying to offline me, try again", 'Star mutters in her red-and-orange alt mode, running her engine twice as fast to compensate. Greenlight, being our shielded tank, is the slower one, so I force myself to slow down for her sake.
"You doing okay, 'cous?"
"Yes, Lancer", she replies softly. She rarely speaks, but being in alt-mode, she can't exactly use her optics to communicate with me.
She uses the holo-optics primarily to communicate with everyone. Her optics are blue, but the light she can shine from them come in blue, red, and a shade of green similar to her warm-green-with-pale-yellow-highlights paint job.
The holo-optics are most capable of forming holograms and holographs of memories, spoken words and actions from other bots that my cousin remembers (and does she remember a LOT), and other blackmail-worthy material.
Her holo-optics have audiovisual capabilities, and she does not need a screen or other flat surface for images to be seen.
She, unfortunately, can't be moving when using holo-optics.
It's amazing I can hear her quiet murmur over the sound of four engines running full-speed, swerving to avoid other Cybertronians, tires screeching on too-slick pavement as we make sharp turns. Being a Cyber-ninja, though, mediation and fight training has helped me better than I thought.
We aren't even a microquad close to the Guild Scientius when I can see a thin column of smoke. The column gets thicker and more obvious, and, with every passing mechanometer, spots of sickly orange fire mark where the explosion started. The explosion seems to have affected a place in the middle of the Guild, to the east side.
The four of us arrive on the scene, transforming back into our respective bot modes.
Chromia doesn't even bother to stop going, rather driving straight into her transformation. Firestar runs after her as fast as she can, and all of us soon begin calling around in the wreckage, careful to avoid places where we could be suddenly buried by burnt-out, falling ceilings, or other things.
"Moonracer!"
"C'mon, Moonie!"
"Answer us!"
"Someone! Anyone!"
"Moonracer, are you here?!"
"Firestar?!"
The new voice captures our attention. Red Alert.
So she wasn't here when the explosion hit. Her pristine white armor and medic's helm are marred with blackened scorch marks.
"Yes, Red. Hello", Lieutenant calmly greets her as the two femmes exchange a brief, friendly clasp of wrist joints before turning to us.
"Now you see why I called you all here. This is a larger-than-usual explosion, even for one of Wheeljack's 'experiments'. We'll find out what exactly happened later. I'm having trouble finding some bots, mostly Perceptor, Wheeljack, and Moonracer."
"If anything's happened to her-" Chromia begins, but Firestar has foreseen this reaction and quickly restrains her, slapping a servo over her vocal receptor.
"Now is not the time", she hisses, and after some initial struggling, she releases Fearless Leader.
The blue femme resumes her calling of her apprentice's name, kicking over pieces of the wreckage that could possibly pin down a femme of Moonracer's petite, sleek frame.
"Thank Primus it was only a part of the Guild. Imagine if it was the whole thing."
Firestar glances in my direction. "Do I really want to-"
"-No. No you don't."
"Thought so."
The search doesn't take very long, though. About five kliks of looking, and Firestar sees a pale green support servo waving around a hic away.
"Wait!", we hear Moonracer yell. "Be careful where you step. There isn't a lot, but there are some hollow spots that mean a sprained ankle joint if you step in them wrong. Plus, I've got company."
The fire-colored rescue bot, seemingly ignoring her warning, looks awesome as she makes quick work of the various beams and boards covering the sharpshooter, yanking them off with a composed demeanor.
Her composed demeanor, however, falters a little, via a raised optic ridge, when we see Moonracer's 'company'.
"Ah, there's Perceptor", I decide to remark after a klik, since the five of us femmes had just outright stared at first.
Unconscious, pinned under her, with his faceplates on her chassis.
Awk-ward.
"I had to", she replies, carefully climbing out. "He would've been wounded badly if I hadn't seen the danger and pushed him out of the way." With equal attention and caution, she drags out the scientist and positions him sitting upright against her frame.
Only in the light do I see Moonracer did get the brunt of the blast, her cool green armor almost black with scorch marks, and a few wounds here and there. Her speaking vocal receptor is a moving hole in the burnt ash of her face. Thin lines of energon run from any scratches that pierced her protoplasm and tore into her energon wires.
The scientist she cradles in her support servos bears scorch marks wherever her frame didn't protect him, mostly on his support servos, landing pads, and along the length of his scope. His yellow optical visor sits tilted on his faceplates, and the sharpshooter gently pulls the visor off his faceplates and stores it in a subspace on her frame.
"He is out cold, Moonie."
"That's where I come in", Red Alert states, her bionic left servo changing tools from the usual claw-looking device, to a prod with several slanted spines along its sides.
"Hoist is the Guild's resident medic, but he is one of the injured, so I've been enlisted to help."
Carefully picking her away over the wreckage, she motions for Moonie to let her access his head, then carefully opens it up so we can see the back of his processor. The red-and-white medic points the prod to a certain port and fires a bright blue charge of energy into it.
There is no response from the unconscious scientist. Even after about four or five tries from Red Alert, there is still nothing.
"Red!"
She looks up, trying to pinpoint the source of the cry. Moonracer spots it first.
"Wheeljack! Over here!"
The engineer is pinned in the frame of a wall, smoke rolling off of him in thick fumes. We hadn't seen him because he, somehow, ended up several mechanometers above our line of sight.
"You were hanging there all this time?! Why didn't you tell us?!"
"'Cause I only gained feeling in my chassis pillar and head just now! Enough to move it around and feel stuff! I saw you ladies just now!"
"Can you come down?!"
"I'd love to! Just find me my stabilizing servos first!"
"Where are they?!", the femme doctor calls to him.
Silence is the only response. Firestar, after looking over at Chromia, crouched near Moonie, and getting a nod, motions for Greenlight to follow her, and the two femmes head out to retrieve the engineer, and maybe find his stabilizing servos.
I'm more interested in whether or not Red can get Perceptor up and running again, so I look back at him. Moonracer holds his chassis tightly to hers, supporting his chassis pillar on one shoulderplate. With her free right servo, she lightly begins wiping away at any soot and shed energon on him. She gently pokes and prods in a few places, probably to make sure he didn't lose something important.
She's in the process of removing a small line of energon on his left servo, her digits sliding along his almost tenderly, when she catches me looking.
"What?", she says, quickly tucking her servo under one piston as Red Alert returns to trying to return him to consciousness.
Her response: fascinating.
After watching the femme doctor use a few more of her fancy tools and do a whole bunch of complex medic stuff, she is successful.
"Per-ceptor. Perceptor! You're online again!"
Is that joy I hear in Moonie's voice?
"Of course."
And irritation in Chromia's?
Carefully sitting up, his optics flicker open. He looks at all of us, then his confused gaze rests on the femme who still has one support servo around him.
"Moonracer? What has transpired here?"
"Well, hate to break it to you, but there was another explosion. Not a super big one, but enough that you may have to rebuild the lab. Wheeljack's stuck in some wall lattice. Oh, and other than getting rendered unconscious, you're perfectly fine."
"And what of you? You don't appear 'fine'."
"Oh, don't worry about me. Seriously, don't worry. I once had to survive a ship engine malfunctioning and blowing up while I was still fixing it. I think I lost a digit or something to that. Anyway, don't worry. We weren't at the epicenter of the explosion, so we're both fine."
Red Alert runs a quick scan on him. "She's right. Other than a few cuts and bruises, you're alright."
"Thank you, Red Alert."
She replies with a curt nod. He gently motions for Moonracer to take her support servo off of him, and she reluctantly complies. He rubs out the kinks in his chassis pillar, then looks over at Chromia and I, pausing when he runs his gaze upon me.
"This is-?"
"Lancer of Kalis, Perceptor."
A quick nod, and then he looks up at a glowering Chromia.
What is her deal?! She looks like she wants to rip his faceplates off. Can't she try to look friendly? I've never truly understood what her issue is, only that she's doesn't like him too much.
I'm guessing it doesn't faze the scientist, who questions Moonracer about her identity. At this, Moonracer makes a faceplate I haven't seen before, something between a wince and a forced smile, something very un-Moonracer.
"This is my mentor, Chromia Minor of Iacon."
"And don't you forget it, scientist."
The 'scientist' comes out in a hiss, and I wonder how is it that the microscope doesn't flinch back at her sour attitude.
Oh, wait, he has no emotions. At least that's what I've heard. He still has manners, still has his intelligence, but no emotions.
I wonder what that feels like. To be unable to feel such extremes like sorrow and bliss. When I was in ninja training, I learned that in order to keep all chakras, or points of spiritual energy on the body, open, and therefore be a good warrior, I had to momentarily forget things like emotions. Extreme emotions blocked the second, third, and sixth chakras.
Then, as we sighted Firestar and Greenlight trodding back to us, with Wheeljack in tow, I realized that also meant Perceptor couldn't have fun anymore. Anything he did in life now was sapped of all emotion, both bad and good, disappointment and enjoyment alike. Anything he did was to help him merely survive. Granted, he couldn't hate, but did he also lose his ability to love as well? That is no way to live.
I turn my scattered processor to the white engineer. At least, the upper half of his body. His stabilizing servos seem to be missing from mid-thighplate down, no doubt blown off by the explosion. They set him down, and Greenlight immediately begins dabbing at the burnt finish with a diluted corrosive while Firestar questions him.
"Well, do you know the cause of this explosion, Wheeljack?"
He scratches his chinplate thoughtfully. "Granted, I was working with plutonium and sodium, and as well as some other lovely chemicals, trying to find a way to make a simple explosive that can be carried on the body, but that can also be concealed well-enough on the frame. Other than that, though, I'd just glad that everyone's safe. Right?" His optics flicker over at Red Alert, who nodded, gesturing for him to continue.
"The funny thing, I left those chemicals in a blast-proof chamber that Ironfist and Mainframe assembled. Chamber should've been closed. I know I locked it up right after I was done. If the chemicals did have a reaction, the chamber should've contained it."
"It's a good thing that the explosion, regardless of cause, did not destroy the entire Guild", Firestar responds. "We'll have to wait until after we've searched and cleaned out everything to-"
She is interrupted by a bot driving up to us in alt-mode. The ruddy red and white paintjob and somewhat boxy form of the alt-mode gives away a medic of some sort.
First Aid, more specifically, as he transforms into bot mode.
"Red Alert, ma'am, I found out something I feel you should know."
Then he notices that his boss has company, and he gives everyone a quick nod in greeting, holding his gaze on Firestar before returning his attention to the red-and-white femme.
I know First Aid from back in Academy days, when he and Greenlight were in the same class at Protihex. He is a friend that shares the Great Secret, and particularly a closer friend to Greenlight because of their shared pacifistic views.
"It's regarding the cause of the explosion. Are you familiar with Jazz Major?"
"I am. Why?"
"Jazz tells me that the explosion may not be a mere accident."
Everyone looks at one another. Then, Perceptor slowly gets up, straightens himself, and approaches First Aid.
"Define 'may not be a mere accident.'"
"I feel it's best if everyone who can follows me. Red Alert, you will have to take Wheeljack to-"
"-Whoa! No!"
"-Wheeljack, we know you probably wish to know what happened-"
"-Yes, I do! What I've got is a scratch-"
"-Wheeljack, you've got no stabilizing servos left-", Moonracer points out with her usual drooping optic ridges and her oh-no-not-again voice.
"-Doesn't matter! Firestar, your alt-mode's a towing vehicle, yes?"
"Can I just drag him with us, get the debriefing, then I wheedle him over to the nearest hospital? Does that sound okay? I think he's gone through his", the femme drones in her staticky tone, carrying Wheeljack to an area where there's no debris, and a clear route out of the wreckage. She transforms into her alt-mode, and uses a forklift to lift the engineer onto the flatbed of her vehicle.
"He will still function if we get him to the hospital a cycle from now", Perceptor agrees, following her and transforming into his alt-mode; a four-wheel, multi-terrain vehicle with his scope mounted on a tripod, based in the middle of the flatbed part of his alt-mode.
Everyone else is sorta-kinda forced to agree, and, a few nanokliks and six more alt-modes later, we are following First Aid to the location of Jazz Major.
We stop at the front entrance of the Guild Scientius, where more bots are gathered. It seems when the explosion hit, most of the bots ran for safety. The wreckage where we found Wheeljack, Perceptor, and Moonracer was, now that I realize it, disturbingly lacking in bots. Only Red Alert had been there, apparently, to help look for them. Perhaps any MoS bots working here this solar cycle hadn't known they were missing until after looking around, or thought they were out?
I don't think about it too much, concentrating on finding Jazz with the bots milling about, their concerned voices carried in the air. First Aid finds him first.
A fellow ninja, a friend, a keeper of the Great Secret, former lieutenant to Sentinel Magnus, and all-around cool mech, Jazz smiles up at everyone behind his blue visor, shaking servos with the pacifistic mech before heading straight for me.
"What's up, Lancer? Still rocking that funky paintjob without a care, huh?"
Out of my alt-mode and back in bot mode, I stride over to him and pound fists.
"You know it, Jazz, my mech", I reply with the same amount of good vibes, pulling him in for a friendly hug. "How's the universe treating you?"
Out of the hug, I see his normally jovial expression waver, the corners of his vocal processor drooping down, but in less than a nanoklik, his usual happy faceplates are back.
"Good, good."
He opens up a large datapad and sets the thing to holograph mode. Everyone gathers around him to look, Firestar hoisting Wheeljack higher on her chassis so that he can see.
"What happened at the Guild: not so good. The blame usually falls on any members of the MoS, but I have reason to believe it may have been planned. Almost like an assassination attempt."
Everyone falls deathly silent. If remaining Decepticons are insane enough to pull off an assassination attempt, the common thought is that they'd target Ultra Magnus. Or, they wouldn't waste their resources on trying to breach Beta Hospital, where our leader's being kept on spark support, and would target Trypticon Prison, and getting their leader out. Their leader, or one of his generals.
"Our leaders may be the ones to see that battle plans and the like are carried out, but who do you think has to compose those plans? Who makes our weapons? Who ensures that biological and chemical warfare will not harm our numbers? Scientists, that's who."
He changes the holographs, now showing the Guild Scientius. "Any of you cool cats know how bots get inside the Guild?"
Everyone expects Perceptor to answer, but Moonracer beats him to the punch. "All workers of the Guild, upon registration and background checks, are given a nine-digit code and number. The automatic holder of the code number is a small metal card, about the size of credit leaves. On the card is the designation, the code on the right-servo side, and the number beneath that-oh, thanks, Green-"
As the sharpshooter speaks, Greenlight pulls out a cleaning rag from one of her many compartments and quietly holds it out. Moonracer pauses, thanks her and accepts the small tan material, wiping her faceplates free of soot. She begins to clean herself, rubbing her chassis pillar then going down as she goes along.
"-However, there's a second method. A lot of bots get their code number decaled on a certain part of their bodies. I had mine decaled on my finish, underneath my head panel….", and here she points at the yellow circle gracing the middle of her forehead. "Because I'm so short.
"As long as you have a code number, and it can be scanned, you can get almost anywhere in the Guild."
Chromia looks impressed, that her apprentice has remember so much. Wheeljack seems to agree, a soft whistle sounding behind his mask. Red Alert even smiles a little. Perceptor…..is less so.
"Exactly how would you know all this, Miss Moonracer?", he asks her, his surprisingly emotional voice sounding a tad suspicious.
I don't know if she really can't feel it, or chooses to ignore it, but she replies, "Same as you, Perceptor. I read the datapads, including the fine print. And I read it over and over again as much as I can and try to remember. Simple." She smiles innocently and proceeds to turn her attention back to Jazz.
"Does the code number thing also apply to the Guild's property? Stuff such as equipment, prototypes, all that fun stuff?"
She nods. The music-loving ninjabot runs into the hologram what looks like video surveillance. It's a recording of what's happening in a laboratory. Lights turn off, meaning whoever was working in it last has left. For a few boring kliks, there's only the camera switching to night vision. The point of view appears to be from a table, or a shelf, instead of from a ceiling like most cameras.
Then, in the far left of the screen, something moves. At first, it looks like a tiny tube being lifted on a tripod, moving around. The thing suddenly grows appendages that look like little blades, and these clawlike blades seem to act as stabilizing servos. The thing comes out of the shadows and we see it.
One of the Guild's microscopic devices. I'm guessing the Ministry of Science keeps a few around in case their primary microscope, Perceptor, is not around to inspect something.
Except this microscope, when it comes into clear view, turns out to be a bot. I notice the code numbers decaled on one of the larger stabilizing servos of the thing.
Almost as if it's aware it's being watched, it sharply turns around with a noise of irritation.
The telltale red optics on this little bot confirm our suspicions: a mini Decepticon spy is among us, and it isn't even disguised as an Autobot.
The bot seems to have found the camera, and with a few clattering steps and a slice of a claw that seems to serve as a major servo, its image is replaced with black-and-white static.
"Frag", Chromia curses, always impatient enough to break any unneeded silence.
"Great. One of the few times I'm not the cause of an explosion in the Guild, and it's the one time we're in actual danger", Wheeljack mutters from his spot on Firestar's shoulderplate. "What now? You expect me to cooperate with medics after finding out the Ministry and our sanctuary is in trouble?" As he worries (because he never complains), Red Alert, already having transformed into her alt-mode, waits as First Aid lifts him off of Noble Lieutenant and loads him into the back.
"You're gonna give Red a hard time, 'Jack?", the firey-colored femme teases (as much as Firestarcan tease). "You are the mech, Wheeljack, you really are."
"Nah, Red and 'Jack are tight, aren't you guys?" At this, the doctor gives a half-sparked 'meh', but I know. They're solid.
"And don't you worry, cool cat", Jazz assures him. "Everything is gonna flow when we straighten this out."
All of us watch Red Alert, First Aid, and Wheeljack rush off before the ninjabot speaks again. "The rest of us have our work cut out for us, then. Chromia, you and your strategist-"
My audio receptors perk up. "-That's me!"
"-Really?"
"Yep."
Jazz folds his support servos across his chassis, impressed. "Crazy."
"Sometimes", Firestar mumbles, massaging her apparently sore shoulderplates and spinal unit.
"Well, Chromia, you and Lancer figure out who does what. Then you and your lieutenant come with me and bring this up to the Council.
I guess that means you as well, Perceptor."
Immediately, the good mood in her faceplates disappears, and the rest of us share another round of worried glances. I lock gazes with the red rescue bot, hoping she can put Fearless Leader in a cooperative demeanor. None of us want the Council giving her an even harder time.
"Must we meet up with them? Can't we just send this problem to them via intercom, or have the Head of MoS right here relay the message?"
See, I admire Jazz for his ability to keep a cool processor, even with a heated temper like 'Mia's around. He continues to converse with her in a hushed tone.
"Chromia, you know the Council ain't out to make it hard for you to be here-"
"First of all, if they want to help me, they wouldn't be putting pressure on me to run for Pro Temporare Magnus-"
"-I already know about that."
"Do you? Who told you?"
"Optimus."
"Figures. Second of all, it's not the Council I have problems with." She snaps her head towards an unsuspecting Perceptor, and I'm suddenly thankful it's not enough to cause another seizure.
"It's you, Scientist."
Logically, almost-losing color while you're still online and conscious isn't possible, but forget logic, because all of the color in Moonracer's faceplates just drained away.
Wait, what's she so worried about? Granted, Chromia can be pretty violent, especially towards bots that she just doesn't like (hence why her Lieutenant is also the strongest of us), but the gunslinger has a processor. She is not dumb enough to try and attack the microscope here, especially with us here as well as Jazz, who can hold his own against a small army. Small Army = Chromia Minor.
Moonracer, most especially, though she looks weak and powerless, is far from it.
She just worries about everything too much, I think.
"Chromia, no."
"Chromia, ma'am-"
"-Don't call me ma'am! I work for a living, unlike some!"
"If that is your sentiment towards me, then I regret to inform that you are very mistaken", he replies calmly. "I understand your feelings towards titles much more than you assume."
"If you truly understand my feelings, understand this.", she hisses in the harshest tone, striding towards him until her furious expression is only half a klep away from his faceplates. "Do not ask, do not wonder, just listen, and listen good. Never mind me, but you will treat my girls with respect. Especially Moonracer.
She may work for you, but if you cut her wages short, hurt her in any way, give her reason to be upset, upset enough that others know and find out, I will find you, I will hunt you down, and YOU will be my science experiment."
She must be spitting mad if she doesn't even give him a chance to verify his understanding of her threat. A simple turn on her heel strut and her angry gait brings her back to a confused-as-the-Pit Jazz.
"Let's go, Jazz."
"Forgetting something, Ms. C?" Jazz points a lone digit to the rest of us, and Chromia groans and pinches the bridge of her olfactory sensor, her optics closing in frustration before marching up to me.
"Okay, Lancer, listen up. You are going to help the MoS with clearing the wreckage. I don't know why they haven't gotten bots to take care of that yet, so, please."
It doesn't sound glamorous, but I really couldn't care. She's asking me because if a part of a roof falls, I have quick reflexes that will enable me to get away fast enough. If there are hollows in the wreckage that can't be stepped in, I can detect them pretty well. I don't weigh too much, I tend to work fast, and I'm thorough.
"You got it, 'Mia!"
"Greenlight, if you can help by calming down the really crazy, obnoxious bots, and do a quick scan for everyone, to ensure no bot's hiding injuries. I really appreciate it." The larger bot meekly nods her head and hurries to calm down some bot that had been chanting 'oh slag oh slag oh slag'. I really don't know why. The area affected had only been like, what, one-tenth of the Guild?
Okay, that right there still sounded pretty bad.
My cousin is asked to deal with bots because Greenlight has a unusually calming, warm aura. She known for putting bots in a better mood just by being present, and her full medical training and general softsparked-ness can be put to good use for bots that need the help.
Chromia then approaches Moonracer, planting her servos on the other's shoulderplates.
"Sweetspark, I know you're mad with me, but here's what's going to happen. When we leave, you help out the uninjured from the Ministry with whatever they need. Finding any of the Guild's files that may have been lost. All that scrap. Since you work there, you do whatever you have to do. After all that, if we still don't get back by the time you and the Cousins are finished, the three of you just head to the Apartments, okay?"
The malachite-green femme holds her cobalt-blue mentor's gaze for a klik, then nods. "Yes, 'Mia." There's only resoluteness in her voice, which means she's set aside this conflict for the time being.
She heads back to Jazz, who appears relieved and less confused. "See, you're jiving just fine, Chromia."
"Let's go, then", she starts but the ninjabot stops her.
"Now, hold up, I'm waiting for-"
"-Please, Jazz Minor. You, Chromia Minor, and Lieutenant Firestar may proceed ahead of me. I will find you in about 3.1 kliks."
Perceptor directs a small nod towards the three aforementioned bots, then turns to Moonracer.
No other words are shared, though Chromia raises an optic ridge at this. The three bots transform into their alt-modes and drive away. I turn and, gently pulling our medic's neon-green support servo along, head for the entrance of the Guild, but I stop when I catch figments of an interesting conversation behind me.
"Moonracer?"
"Yes, Perceptor?"
"If I may ask, what is Chromia Minor's issue with me?"
"It's not you, per se. It…well….."
"I find bots hesitating around me grating and time-consuming-"
"-I know. That was always a thing with you. You never liked it when bots wouldn't just cut to the chase."
I turn around, hiding behind my cousin's much larger chassis (because she's already recording this conversation with her head), and I see the scientist tilt his head to the right.
"You see, Perceptor, you…..you remind her of a bot. A bot that not only hurt her friends, nearly placed her and them in terrible danger, but hurt me as well. Personally. Every time she sees you, she sees this bot. The bot that hurt my spark. Please don't hold it against her. Logically, one would, but please, don't get her in trouble because of it."
He steps closer to her. "Is that all? Very well. I do not have the time, patience, or evidence to, as you put it, 'get her in trouble', and because you asked kindly, I will not attempt to. I simply ask she does not try something like tearing off my support servo, because of whatever similarity I share with this bot." At this, something between a wince and a sob passes on her faceplates.
"I do not doubt she can restrain herself in that matter, and I hope you can assist her. Now, I have to follow Jazz and the others to Fortress Maximus, but I trust you can keep procedures going well in my absence." Her sadder-than-usual frown is replaced with a determined nod, and the scientist nods in response and turns to transform into his unique alt-mode.
"Oh, and…..Moonracer?"
"Yes, Perceptor?", she murmurs, standing at his side and looking down at where his headlights are.
The air hangs heavy with some sort of tension, so heavy that Greenlight turns her head to see what'll happen.
"….Thank you for protecting me when the explosion hit. You honestly didn't have to; I've dealt with worse whenever Wheeljack would cause something bigger to combust and explode. I never properly thanked you. I am truly grateful. Goodbye for now."
The scientist drives off, leaving her staring in the direction he leaves.
My spark feels brighter. If he could feel grateful, I'm guessing he muststill have some emotions left in that lonely little spark of his.
And as for our little speedster?
For a good five kliks or so, she stands there, her head held high and her back straight as my Cy-Staff, with her servos clasped to her chassis, in the area where her spark chamber is. And, though she may be facing away from us, the smile on her lip components ….
I have never seen that look in her faceplates before.