Scavenger really appreciated that Scrapper was giving him the responsibility of supervising Mixmaster—and he really wished he hadn't. Their resident mad scientist felt like a time-bomb among a group of Autobots. Sure, he had been on his best behaviour—apart from that teeny-tiny terrorisation of Wheelie—but it didn't matter. The longer the day went on, the more apprehensive Scavenger felt. If his fellow Constructicon went off, it would be his fault.
After they'd finished marking up the current electrical pathways and planned pyrotechnic fuel lines, Scavenger tried to pass Mixmaster back to Scrapper; their leader took Rewind off his hands instead and recommended that Scavenger take Mixmaster to "research opportunities for extended power provision."
Scavenger didn't have a clue what he meant, but Scrapper's face clearly said: 'Don't embarrass me in front of the Autobots,' so he simply replied: "Right away!"
"He means 'go upstairs and try and find some of the old energon stores,'" Mixmaster muttered, and Scavenger briefly felt grateful for his presence. Mixmaster might be unhinged, but he was still a genius.
"I don't really know what's going on," he confessed when they got upstairs. "I don't understand this plan, and nobody says what they mean anymore." He dutifully set his sensors to energon readings, even though he'd already swept this chamber.
Mixmaster didn't reply, and when Scavenger looked round, he found him pulling open the storage containers they had looked through the previous day.
"Mixmaster, put it down! There's nothing in there but degrading explosives! Bonecrusher was supposed to remove them!"
"Oooh, unstable…" Mixmaster purred, stroking one finger through the contents. "Just my type!"
"Mixmaster, please!"
Mixmaster relented but only to shove the box at Scavenger and transform. "Chuck 'em in my mixing drum."
"What?"
"I'm not leaving these poor sick pretties behind."
"But… If they go off, they could kill you." And anybody else in proximity.
"That's the thrill of it. I could practically run on the potential energy of that suspense!"
Out of arguments, Scrapper gingerly lifted the ancient material out of the box and placed it as carefully as possible in Mixmaster's drum. Then he leapt back with a yelp as Mixmaster started rotating, tumbling them over.
"If you don't kill me, Scrapper will," he moaned.
"Relax, you're one of his favourites."
"I am?"
Mixmaster managed to transform without exploding. "That's what Hook said. Scrapper chooses his favourites to come down to Cybertron. I must have been real good yesterday."
Scavenger didn't think that was how it worked. "Maybe Hook's just mad at Scrapper."
"And Scrapper put Hook in orbit!"
Scavenger sighed. "I miss Devastator. We haven't combined since we got to Chaar, and it's just… easier to know what everybody's thinking." Literally. Devastator used a gestalt consciousness, which gave Scavenger access to the other Constructicons' thoughts. They maintained certain boundaries—if one person rejected another's bond, the entire combining would fail—but Scavenger always emerged from Devastator feeling smarter and more secure in himself.
These days he wanted to feel more secure in the others too. Even though they weren't combined, it felt like they were breaking up.
The Constructicon channel on his com-link crackled briefly before Scrapper's voice came through. Mixmaster, report back to the ship. We're gonna need you and Hook to design an environmental control system to be approved by the Autobots.
"Sorry, Mixmaster." Scavenger hoped the apology masked the swoop of relief he had felt that he was allowed to stay down here.
Mixmaster simply grinned and leaned in closer than Scavenger liked, considering his cargo. "Don't worry… I've got a plan to free some electrons. Scrapper will love that."