Jump Shot, Part 4
Title: Jump Shot
Rating: T
Series: G1
Summary: There are a lot of reasons Seekers and Stunticons don't mix. This is only one of them.
Thundercracker braced his arms on either side of Motormaster's trailer, preparing for a bumpy ride. He had always thought ground transportation was a lot rougher than turbulence, so he tended to avoid it like cosmic rust. Once Motormaster started driving, his thoughts were proven correct. It was probably worse considering he had crashed through some trees and then gotten run over by a Stunticon, but every little bump jarred his frame. Everything hurt, and Motormaster lacked the decency to even give him some light.
The ride was miserable, but shorter than he had expected. Motormaster came to a grinding halt, and he could hear the others transforming outside. The trailer door rolled up on its own, and Thundercracker managed to shimmy out before he had to suffer the Stunticons 'assisting' him. Skywarp came down from the sky and landed next to him, giving the area an appraising look. It wasn't much different from the last bunker they'd been at.
“Well, this place looks like a dump,” Skywarp announced. Motormaster paid them no heed, pulling off to the side to transform.
“Well at least it’s not underwater!” Wildrider shouted. “Anything’s an improvement over that dump!”
Skywarp said nothing in response, hating the fact that he actually agreed with the spastic Stunticon. Actually, come to think of it, did anyone like the underwater base?
“A dump's a dump,” Motormaster said, optics raking over the bunker before settling on Skywarp. “Where's the Protectobot?"
“Ate some heat-seeking missiles,” Skywarp said. The way he crossed his arms over his chest thankfully concealed the way he puffed up at that declaration. Even if he radioed him, Thundercracker doubted he could get through to Skywarp about how not in control they were right now.
“Fine,” Motormaster turned on his heel and marched off towards the bunker. This one went underground, the concrete dipping down at a sharp angle just past the doors. Skywarp looked a bit miffed, but shot Thundercracker a questioning look: didn't Motormaster even want to threaten to rip their wings off?
In fact, none of the Stunticons were even looking at them now. Dead End was giving Breakdown a thorough look over, picking twigs out of his wheel wells when he spotted them. All of Breakdown's tires had gone flat from the drive to the bunker, but he would have new ones in no time, courtesy of the Autobots.
“This is fun, isn’t it?” Skywarp asked cheerfully. Thundercracker gave him a look that would give Omega Supreme pause, but Skywarp only smiled. They’d been in worse spots, right? He didn’t think it could get much worse than this, actually.
That was when Skywarp had the wind knocked out of him, something round smashing into his cockpit with enough force to bowl him over. He landed on his aft, clutching his cracked cockpit with one hand. Biting back a curse, he watched the object that had hit him bounce away.
“You were supposed to catch that,” said Drag Strip, smirking as he bent to pick up the orange ball. Skywarp shot him a glare as he bounced the ball up and down on the pavement. It occurred to Thundercracker that a lot of concrete had been poured at this particular base. Mixmaster must have been having an absolute riot that day.
It would also explain why the Stunticons seemed more at home here than the main base. Home was where the fuel pump was, and the Stunticons pledged their undying, twisted love to the roads of concrete and asphalt.
Drag Strip passed the ball to Wildrider, who, much to Thundercracker’s surprise, caught it and darted off with it. Seeing any kind of coordination from him was a shock in and of itself, but it turned into amazement when he launched himself into the air, shoving the ball through a wire hoop attached to a stripped tree.
“Huh,” said Thundercracker, as Wildrider ran to catch the ball again.
Skywarp gave him a wildly confused look, probably wondering if the Stunticons ever fired on all cylinders. Making the mistake of looking away from Wildrider nearly cost him, but Thundercracker reached out and snagged the ball before it collided with Skywarp's face. He looked at it a moment, then across the concrete lot towards the hoop.
Ignoring the expectant looks the Stunticons were giving him, he shifted his weight, lifted the ball, and gave it a toss. The orange ball sailed across the lot, where Wildrider leaped up to knock it off course. He missed, and the ball went straight through the hoop.
“Get out,” Skywarp looked askance at Thundercracker, who only shrugged. He resisted rotating his shoulder, since the throw had kinked some wires. He shouldn't be doing anything besides recharging, but that wasn't going to happen any time soon.
“It’s a human game,” he said. It wasn't surprising that the Stunticons had taken to it; they were practically native to the planet as it was.
“Up for a round?” Drag Strip asked, dribbling the ball up and down. Thundercracker hesitated. What he needed now was repairs, not human sports. Besides, Drag Strip had a competitive streak that drove even the stoic Soundwave up the wall. And Wildrider? He’d already been run over once, thanks.
“What’s the winner get?” Skywarp asked, before Thundercracker could refuse anything. It was his turn to give Skywarp a panicked look. “Besides gloating rights?”
Wildrider let out a compulsive laugh, which Drag Strip ignored.
“High grade,” he said. “Two cubes.”
“You're nuts,” Skywarp snorted, much to Thundercracker's relief. Besides, he doubted these road rats had high grade, and two cubes wasn't even that much. If they did have high grade, as well as a collection of spare parts, then they could live apart from the rest of the faction for much longer than he'd thought. “No way is that worth it for us.”
“Fine,” Drag Strip said, optic band darkening. “You win, you get two cubes of high grade and we go back to base with you. We win, which I - we will, we get two cubes of high grade and you go back to Megatron empty handed.”
“Still nuts,” said Skywarp. “You've got to go back eventually, anyways!”
Thundercracker didn't like the smirk on Drag Strip's face - it just confirmed what he'd thought about how self sufficient they'd suddenly become.
“Skywarp, you don’t even know how to play,” Thundercracker said, desperate to head them off before they agreed on something.
“Well, I’m feeling charitable today,” Drag Strip said, tossing the ball back over to Thundercracker. He caught it without thinking, and felt that somehow he'd just sealed their fate. “Teach yourselves. We’ve got work to do anyways.”
“We do?” Wildrider looked confused, but Drag Strip was already in vehicle mode and speeding off. He quickly followed suit, not wanting to be left behind. Thundercracker realized it was just the two of them now; Dead End and Breakdown had gone inside at some point.
“High grade,” Skywarp said. That was tempting. “You know how to play?”
“Sort of,” Thundercracker said, bouncing the ball between his hands like Drag Strip had done. “It’s not that complicated.”
“Give me that,” said Skywarp, snatching the ball out of mid air. He spun the ball around between his hands, probably wondering the same thing Thundercracker was: where on Earth had they gotten a basketball this big? As much as he'd like to know, it was better that the Stunticons remain a mystery to him. The day he understood them would be a dark day indeed.
Sizing up the hoop, Skywarp chucked the ball in its direction. He missed by a considerable distance, and the ball crashed into the bushes behind the tree.
“So that’s why your missiles are heat seeking,” Thundercracker smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. Skywarp made an irritated noise, before teleporting into the trees and fishing out the lost basketball. He tossed it back at Thundercracker, who caught it with ease.
He started dribbling the ball again, getting the feel for it. Skywarp watched him somewhat jealously - how was he so good at that?
“We’ll start like this,” said Thundercracker, moving closer to his wingmate as he dribbled the ball. “If you're moving, you've got to bounce it - dribble it. Otherwise you get a penalty.”
“Yeah? So who's keeping track?” Skywarp frowned. That gave Thundercracker pause - if there wasn't a third party, the game would get really ugly, really fast. The only one he might trust would be Dead End, but he might not even pay attention to the game long enough to referee.
“We should just leave,” Thundercracker said, looking towards the bunker. “How are they going to stop us?”
“I thought you said you couldn't transform,” Skywarp said. He hadn't been too keen on the idea of teleporting while damaged, even if they'd done it before.
“It's not as bad as I thought,” said Thundercracker. “Just sore.”
“Alright. Okay, so, say we leave. Then what? I don't want to have to call in backup to deal with these dirt suckers if we can't do this ourselves! Besides that, we're right in the middle of Autobot territory!” There was no going back, was what Skywarp was trying to say. Unfortunately, Thundercracker had to agree. How else were they going to get the Stunticons to come willingly if they didn't play by their fragged up rules?
“It's a bad idea,” Thundercracker said, shaking his head. “But we'll play. Now pay attention, because your aim stinks.”
part five