C.M.D: It's been a while since I've uploaded last (feels like months honestly) but I'm not getting any less busier. So, I'm super glad that I have at least gotten a few chapters done this month for your reading pleasure. With any luck, I may have an update or two for next month as well. Anyways, I won't drone on anymore -please enjoy!
It was just a door.
Thirty by forty feet of metal, with a strip of glowing light to show that it was occupied and active.
"Well? Are you gonna open it or what?!"
Except that it wasn't occupied currently, because the mech who owned it was standing beside the rafale -transformed accidentally into a youngling, with no recollection of his prior life. Hellbat vented heavily, wings drooping, ignoring the teal jet trying to meet his optics.
"Hey!," Leozack scowled, stomping his pedes, "Are you listening to me? You better not be ignoring me again!"
"No, no...," the larger Destron said, glancing at the youngling. He tried to smile but realized it couldn't be seen through his mask. "Anyways, not ignoring, no... I'm just, uh..."
"Stalling?," the little jet pouted. "Yeah, I noticed. What's the big deal? It's a room!"
'It's your room,' Hellbat thought to say, but refrained. That would be too messy of a conversation to attempt. "It's not quite 'just a room', it's...," he trailed off, not knowing how to finish. "Anyway, why don't we go play?"
Leozack gave the blue Destron a scathing look, crossing his arms over his chestplates. "No way! I want to check out the new room, and if you're going to be a big, dumb chicken, I'll open the door!" Shoving past the rafale, Leozack gave a short jump and smacked the keypad console; the door giving a beep at the contact, sliding the metal to the side.
Hellbat was ashamed to admit that his fans were beginning to whirl in a panic the moment he could see into the lieutenant commander's room; fear and excitement warring within him, while his paranoid processor pondered as to why Leozack didn't have a pass-lock set on his door. It took the soft, scoffing "pathetic" to drag the larger jet from his thoughts, glancing down as the tomcat strutted inside their temporary quarters.
Anxious still, Hellbat followed after slowly.
"Woah," the youngling gasped, spinning around ecstatically in the large, open space, "This room is fantastic!"
And it was, the spy noted. Under perfectly set floor and ceiling lights, every space of the berthroom was lit with gentle, lavender light; glittering like spark-mites against edges of immaculately-clean metal. There was a large desk and combination terminal taking up two-thirds of the left wall, leftover plans not yet tidied away littered across its available surface, as rectangular holes in the walls provided shelf space for sorted datapads.
Aside from that, there was only the berth; positioned against the right wall, free of any dings and scrapes, and even its thermal blanket folded neatly on top. It was a regal room, deserving of his lieutenant commander, Hellbat thought, staring in awe. What would Leozack say if he- The rafale's train of thought came to a nasty crash as he realized that the teal jet would not be surprising him any time soon, in his usual vicious uproar.
Instead, Leozack was represented by the youngling jumping about, touching everything with glee, unaware that these were actually his quarters. Sighing again, frame hunching over a bit with the action, Hellbat wandered around the room, his depressed processor cranking away.
"... what's your problem?," came a small vocalizer.
Looking to his left, the blue Destron was not surprised to see his charge looking up at him; optics bright and curious, while his mouth was pulled into a sour pout. "Nothing," the spy answered, smiling. Leozack's optics narrowed further. "Anyways, we've seen the room now. Ready to do something else?"
The youngling crossed his arms over his chestplates. "Why do you want to leave so quickly? I still haven't gone through the drawers and closets!"
'And that's for the best,' Hellbat told himself silently. "Listen, we really should..."
The bigger jet trailed off as suddenly a light bulb went off overhead, genius striking the frazzled mech. "You can explore all you'd like tonight, after I leave, but for now I want to show you the rest of the ship before dinner. Come- you'll have fun!"
Hellbat was already backing towards the door, waving for the tomcat to follow him, but the youngling only stared in abject horror. "W-what... what do you mean 'when you leave me'?," Leozack stuttered, coolant welling in his optics as his expression turned ferocious; fists shaking at his side and a pede stomping on the ground hard. "You're my guardian! You can't go until I say so!"
"Um, but...," the rafale weakly tried to say.
The protest, even pathetic, was enough to make the youngling tip his helm back and screech angrily to the ceiling above. "YOU HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF ME AND ENTERTAIN ME AND IF YOU DON'T I'LL DO SOMETHING YOU DON'T LIKE AND, AND, AND YOU'LL BE VERY SORRY!"
"O-okay! Okay!," Hellbat shouted back, quickly rushing over, servos hovering over Leozack -half tempted to shake the smaller Destron but the other half of him not wanting to hurt the lieutenant commander. "I-i'm sorry, please! You're right, you're right! I won't go anywhere! I vow I'll stay as long as you want!"
At the spy's promise, Leozack immediately changed, from screaming out angrily to smiling smugly; standing casually and wings fluttering intermittently in ease. "Alright! Now, you mentioned about showing me around more? Let's do it!," the teal jet chirped, heading for the door. "I want to see everything interesting this dark, smelly ship's got before I eat! And I'm gonna be hungry soon, so move it!"
Venting heavily, Hellbat didn't even bother to comment snidely about the youngling's manipulations, instead heading after the tiny Destron reluctantly, hoping that the rest of the orn would be much quieter.
xxXxXxx
After everything was said and done, it had been a long and exhausting orn, so it should of been no surprise to see a weary Hellbat walking down the hall; pedes dragging, wings almost dropping off and a recharging youngling in his arms. Leozack had put up a valiant fight... but all the activity he'd put himself through in the last twenty cycles had done their number on the once-resilient lieutenant commander.
Withholding a sigh, Hellbat shuffled down the dark, dank halls of the Destron ship, guided by violet lights along the ceiling and floor. Unlike where he took refuge, these areas of the ship were brightly lit, meant to provide extreme comfort for the high-ranking officers who would fill its quarters. Hellbat truly did not like being in this area, considering everyone's animosity towards him, but he'd already proven his little hole of a room was unsuited to care for both Leozack and himself.
No, the rafale had no choice but to concede to his Emperor's demands and use the lieutenant commander's quarters. Coming up to his said door, the spy was glad that there was no one around to watch him stare at the glowing metal for nearly several kliks, fans whirling in sluggish, tired and anxious bursts.
"Stupid...," he chastised himself. A weary smile blossomed under his mask, Hellbat reminded of Leozack saying the same thing a few cycles earlier. It immediately fell as the rafale remembered he wasn't the real Leozack though- not the tomcat that he knew and secretly adored. Punching in the door's new code, Hellbat quickly shuffled inside, gently lying the youngling down on the berth and covering him in a plush, thermal blanket.
His first thought was to leave then and there. Leozack would be fine, he was deep in recharge and there was no threat of Cybertronian attack so deep under water and away from their detections. But those tears... Hellbat's tanks churned uncomfortably. He wasn't accustomed to handling emotion from other 'bots with the exception of the ever abundant greediness, rage, irritation and calculative disregard for others. Crying, fear, begging- from a comrade! A youngling! Sincere and honest in all its forms...
Hellbat didn't like that. Many considered him without a code, and it was true of nearly every aspect of the rafale, but sparklings... He'd never done anything intentionally to hurt a sparkling or youngling, never frightened them or used them as bait in a torturous scheme. He wasn't capable of that; sparklings were not warriors, they didn't deserve that. Leozack was no longer Leozack, but he was a youngling and Hellbat was twisted up inside. Twice in one whole active cycle, he'd made the poor tomcat cry. If he left, come the next morning Leozack would wake to find himself alone, in what he deemed a strange and cold place.
There'd be anger, Hellbat was certain, but what he worried about now is how much he'd make the little jet cry before he came to collect him. Leozack shifted slightly in his sleep as the spy silently deliberated, provoking Hellbat to secure the blanket around the youngling; one servo raised above the teal helm hesitantly.
After a moment, the blue Destron withdrew his servo; venting in defeat. He would stay, find a corner comfortable enough to park himself for the rest of the orn. This new Leozack was his responsibility; no one else would give the youngling the care and consideration he needed. A short smile making itself known, Hellbat gently stroked the flared helm fins, getting up and shuffling into the darkest corner available in the large room. It took several kliks of watching Leozack recharging easily on the berth across the room, before the rafale finally succumbed as well.
xxXxXxx
"This place is boring!"
A clang rang through the rec room as Leozack kicked the table, glowering heatedly at the steel grey top. Hellbat, having looked up from their game of Conquer at the outburst, wondered idly if the youngling had hurt himself with the kick. Judging by how tightly he was biting down on his bottom lip component, the spy was leaning towards yes.
"Well, it is a War ship," Hellbat said, moving one of the pieces and conquering several of Leozack's territories. The 'Duh' was quite obnoxiously loud in his tone. Shaking angrily, the tomcat swept his servos chaotically across the board; scattering all the victory flags Hellbat had already set up, and even the ones he'd been in the middle of placing, sending them flying off in a hundred, different directions.
Venting in frustration, the blue Destron dropped the flag he still possessed, looking at the youngling again. "Alright, since you are obviously done with this game... what would you like to do now?"
"Anything but this!," the mechling snapped back. "You should know something better to do- it's your job to entertain me!"
Hellbat wanted desperately to protest against that, but that was, in fact, his current predicament. It's not like shadowing a shrunken version of his lieutenant commander (who wasn't really his Leozack) was a joy to the rafale himself. But orders were orders. Secretly, Hellbat wished for Leozack to return to normal. For now though, the blue Destron was trapped with babysitting this unknown youngling, with his superior's face, and finding ways to entertain the ever-tempermental tomcat.
"Well, we could play some other games... I think there's a couple stored about the ship... Or we could make something in the labs, watch security vids of the ocean outside the ship; slag, we could even hijack some Earth broadcasts! Just gotta make sure we wipe the registry afterwards or Drillhorn will have our necks..."
As Hellbat rambled thoughtfully to the various tasks even remotely available on board, Leozack was stewing in frustration, until he sprang onto his pedes, smacking the table top. "Take me topside!," he demanded, pink optics starting the older Destron down.
Amazed, Hellbat could only stare idly at the fuming tomcat, before shaking his helm. "I can't. You're too-"
"I want out!," Leozack yelled, interrupting the spy, "I want to fly! I want to see the planet we're on! I don't want to be caged inside with boring, smelly you!"
Hellbat groaned loudly, sinking his face into his servo. "Leozack, I know," he replied, "But you can't go topside. This planet thinks we're evil and they're out to kill or capture us; same with the Cybertronians, who are our actual enemies."
Leozack, who had been surprisingly calm and quiet while Hellbat said his piece, spoke now, glaring even more. "That's stupid! I've done nothing bad; I'm not even big enough to punch someone like you. They have no reason to hurt me!"
The blue Destron refrained from rubbing his servos over his face in exasperation- just barely. "Leozack...," he whined, unknowing of what to say to convince the youngling of the peril he could land in and desperate to make himself heard.
The tomcat sulked, sitting back down and glaring at the table top for a few long, kliks. Beginning to feel perturbed by the deep stare, the spy fidgeted, scrambling his processor for a subject, idea, game- anything! Before he'd even had the chance to open his mouth though, there was a neutral "Turbofox" that broke Hellbat from his thoughts.
"I'm sorry, what?," he said dumbly.
Leozack grumbled but repeated. "Turbofox," he explained, grumbling again at the owlish look he received, "You know? One 'bot is the turbofox and he hunts down the other players before they get him first."
It had been a long time since Hellbat had been involved with any sparkling activities, but that sounded vaguely familiar to the Earth children's game of Manhunt. The rafale really needed to stop hacking into Jan's online activity for intel... Jumping on the offered distraction, Hellbat leaned across the table, practically beaming. "Okay! Now that we're decided, let's-"
A finger tapped loudly at his mouthguard, right about where the tip of his nose would be. Surprised, the blue Destron blinked, optical sensors almost going cross-eyed. "You're the turbofox!," Leozack smugly declared, before jumping down from the table and running from the room.
Realizing what had just taken place, Hellbat hurried to his own pedes, hoping to catch up with the youngling before he got himself into more trouble.