TG 'verse. A bar in Iacon. R 'n R
Ironsides looked around as he lead his team into the bar, sighing at how weird the peaceful normalcy of the place seemed to him. It was always the same story... he was so used to being on the front that life behind the lines seemed like some sort of alien world.
-I shouldn't be surprised.- The old soldier nodded to a booth along one side wall and watched as his young friends headed toward it obediently. -I've been fighting longer than some planets have been online.-
"What's a Cybertron Sunset?" asked Fixer, overhearing an order from another table.
"Something no one here is having," said Ironsides firmly. "Way out of your league."
The medic gave him a look of surprise, but didn't retort.
Ironsides watched them slip into the seats, feeling a little troubled by that unquestioning obedience that they all gave him. He understood the reasoning behind the sparklet programing, but too many young mechs were coming to the front before they'd passed through it fully.
-Pax isn't even done growing.- He ordered himself a high-grade with additives, then watched as Fixer went for straight high-grade, and Pax and Keeper for flavored mid-grade. -And they all still have the instinct to team up... to make 'families'.- He shook his head. -We're not organics. The old bonds served us well for vorns past counting.-
His optics dropped to his drink as it arrived, and he stirred the sediment out of it with one finger as he thought of their new appointment. He'd no longer be heading large companies in the concentrated assaults that had resulted in far too many dead. Instead, the Prime had decided to break people up into smaller teams, put some such teams in charge of massive drone battalions, and to give others special assignments.
-And I get two factory fresh sparklets and a rookie medic... and one of them a female Minibot with a beast alt.- He looked up as laughter came from across the table and saw Pax ducking as Keeper hit him with her elbow. "Shape up, you lugnuts."
Dancing optics looked back at him, and even Fixer was smiling this time instead of wearing his usual expression of absent worry.
He shook his head at them, though his mouth was twitching at the corners. Special ops, the Prime had told him. His skill in getting these rookies behind enemy lines and then getting them back out again had caught Rodimus' attention, so instead of becoming drone controllers or headmaster mech riders they were an intelligence and sabotage unit. More danger, energon, and dirt.
"Hey, you look pretty when you're clean," said Pax innocently, poking Keeper, who swatted him again. "You should do it more often."
"I'll be clean when no one wants to shoot at me anymore," retorted the little femme, her antenna going back like the ears of a cranky animal as she crossed her freshly waxed arms across her chest.
"Leave her be, Pax," said Fixer, smiling and patting himself on the chest. "She's got a point. I feel a little safer when the white and blue's covered in mud too."
Ironsides watched them as he'd watch beings of an unknown but interesting alien race, feeling his spark ache slightly. -I was never that innocent, was I? I can't believe they've gotten this far... but despite that innocence they're good. The best at what they do.-
Something banged against his helm and woke him from his thoughts.
"Wha??" He jerked his gaze around and met Roadqueen's disgruntled scarlet optics as she sat on the floor at the end of their table.
"What the slag is it with you shrinky dink Autobots?" the old Galvatronian grumbled. "You're using all that material for the drones and the headhunter units anyway, why not just give yourselves some decent size?"
"You know why we're this size." He frowned at her and took a pull at his drink, then stirred the sediment out again when it didn't taste quite right.
"Phht." She turned and called for a Cybertron Sunset, then turned back to growl in reply to the younger members of the team's greetings, her face set in its usual unfriendly scowl.
But Ironsides, and the youngbots too, for that matter, could see the protective gleam in the old fighter's optics as she looked them over. She would die before she admitted it, but the Decepticon femme was as committed to this team as any other member, though her reasons were different. Sparked and created to fight, the battlefield was the only place that she felt at peace, and in order to be on the battlefield she had to follow the young Galvatronian Empress's order to work with and support this team of Autobots.
Pax gave her his winning grin. "You look nice, Roadqueen. Did you get a repaint?"
She growled at him and turned her attention to her drink.
"Ease up, Queenie." Ironsides rubbed his head where she'd knocked her knuckles on it, feeling a slight dent. "This is R and R. You're supposed to be relaxing and doing recreation."
"This whole slagging planet wouldn't know recreation if it bit it on the aft." She snorted and drained her cube, then called for more.
"You'd be surprised." Ironsides snorted right back at her and had another pull at his own drink.
"You're Autobots," she said scathingly.
"Hey!" said a blue and green mech at a nearby table. "Watch what you say about Autobots, Galvatronian scrap."
Roadqueen gave him a quelling glance. "In case you hadn't noticed, I was talking to my Autobots. Kindly mind your own drunken business."
"Yeah," added Fixer mildly, looking over the back of his seat at the belligerent one. "And you might want to cut down on the additives. You're going to feel like a Meredronian's stomped you in the morning."
The drunk started to say something, but then noticed the nearest bouncer slowly shaking his head at him and subsided sullenly.
-Team spirit,- thought Ironsides. -It's been a long time since I've been part of that.-
"So." Roadqueen knocked on his helm again. "Where's this recreation then? I could use a little fun."
He swatted at her, growling. "What's wrong with what we're doing?"
"Pah, it's going to put me to sleep."
"So will what you're drinking."
"Not as fast."
* * *
Pax paused in his conversation with Keeper about good books to read and looked from one of the old bots to the other. "Think they like each other?"
Fixer paused with his drink halfway to his mouth and cocked an optic toward the escalating snark war. "Obviously."
"Think it'll cause any trouble?" Pax accepted the handful of energon pellets that Keeper passed him and absently stuffed some into his mouth.
Fixer pursed his lips and shook his head. "They've been around too long to do anything stupid. I think this is just them being from similar times and places."
Keeper nodded, then flipped a pellet at him, which he caught with open mouth and chewed contentedly. "Think you'll downsize your subspace pockets now that it's just us?"
"No. I might need to carry one of you in there." He grinned, showing that he didn't mean them to be offline when he did it. "Someone looking for five mechs won't think to look at three, or two."
"Hmm, that's true." Pax paused in his reaching for the treat bowl and looked thoughtful.
"Hey." Keeper elbowed him again. "Is Primus saying anything?"
"That he's happy and loves us." The young bridge shrugged as best he could while flinching ticklishly. "Careful, you'll scuff my paint."
"You're too squeaky anyway." She grinned at him, then leaned back into her corner with a contented sigh and turned her focus to her drink and the oldbots' snarking. Pax and Fixer did the same, letting it, the quiet, and the music of the place lull them into a contented somnolence that lasted till it was time for them to return to the barracks.
-I shouldn't be surprised.- The old soldier nodded to a booth along one side wall and watched as his young friends headed toward it obediently. -I've been fighting longer than some planets have been online.-
"What's a Cybertron Sunset?" asked Fixer, overhearing an order from another table.
"Something no one here is having," said Ironsides firmly. "Way out of your league."
The medic gave him a look of surprise, but didn't retort.
Ironsides watched them slip into the seats, feeling a little troubled by that unquestioning obedience that they all gave him. He understood the reasoning behind the sparklet programing, but too many young mechs were coming to the front before they'd passed through it fully.
-Pax isn't even done growing.- He ordered himself a high-grade with additives, then watched as Fixer went for straight high-grade, and Pax and Keeper for flavored mid-grade. -And they all still have the instinct to team up... to make 'families'.- He shook his head. -We're not organics. The old bonds served us well for vorns past counting.-
His optics dropped to his drink as it arrived, and he stirred the sediment out of it with one finger as he thought of their new appointment. He'd no longer be heading large companies in the concentrated assaults that had resulted in far too many dead. Instead, the Prime had decided to break people up into smaller teams, put some such teams in charge of massive drone battalions, and to give others special assignments.
-And I get two factory fresh sparklets and a rookie medic... and one of them a female Minibot with a beast alt.- He looked up as laughter came from across the table and saw Pax ducking as Keeper hit him with her elbow. "Shape up, you lugnuts."
Dancing optics looked back at him, and even Fixer was smiling this time instead of wearing his usual expression of absent worry.
He shook his head at them, though his mouth was twitching at the corners. Special ops, the Prime had told him. His skill in getting these rookies behind enemy lines and then getting them back out again had caught Rodimus' attention, so instead of becoming drone controllers or headmaster mech riders they were an intelligence and sabotage unit. More danger, energon, and dirt.
"Hey, you look pretty when you're clean," said Pax innocently, poking Keeper, who swatted him again. "You should do it more often."
"I'll be clean when no one wants to shoot at me anymore," retorted the little femme, her antenna going back like the ears of a cranky animal as she crossed her freshly waxed arms across her chest.
"Leave her be, Pax," said Fixer, smiling and patting himself on the chest. "She's got a point. I feel a little safer when the white and blue's covered in mud too."
Ironsides watched them as he'd watch beings of an unknown but interesting alien race, feeling his spark ache slightly. -I was never that innocent, was I? I can't believe they've gotten this far... but despite that innocence they're good. The best at what they do.-
Something banged against his helm and woke him from his thoughts.
"Wha??" He jerked his gaze around and met Roadqueen's disgruntled scarlet optics as she sat on the floor at the end of their table.
"What the slag is it with you shrinky dink Autobots?" the old Galvatronian grumbled. "You're using all that material for the drones and the headhunter units anyway, why not just give yourselves some decent size?"
"You know why we're this size." He frowned at her and took a pull at his drink, then stirred the sediment out again when it didn't taste quite right.
"Phht." She turned and called for a Cybertron Sunset, then turned back to growl in reply to the younger members of the team's greetings, her face set in its usual unfriendly scowl.
But Ironsides, and the youngbots too, for that matter, could see the protective gleam in the old fighter's optics as she looked them over. She would die before she admitted it, but the Decepticon femme was as committed to this team as any other member, though her reasons were different. Sparked and created to fight, the battlefield was the only place that she felt at peace, and in order to be on the battlefield she had to follow the young Galvatronian Empress's order to work with and support this team of Autobots.
Pax gave her his winning grin. "You look nice, Roadqueen. Did you get a repaint?"
She growled at him and turned her attention to her drink.
"Ease up, Queenie." Ironsides rubbed his head where she'd knocked her knuckles on it, feeling a slight dent. "This is R and R. You're supposed to be relaxing and doing recreation."
"This whole slagging planet wouldn't know recreation if it bit it on the aft." She snorted and drained her cube, then called for more.
"You'd be surprised." Ironsides snorted right back at her and had another pull at his own drink.
"You're Autobots," she said scathingly.
"Hey!" said a blue and green mech at a nearby table. "Watch what you say about Autobots, Galvatronian scrap."
Roadqueen gave him a quelling glance. "In case you hadn't noticed, I was talking to my Autobots. Kindly mind your own drunken business."
"Yeah," added Fixer mildly, looking over the back of his seat at the belligerent one. "And you might want to cut down on the additives. You're going to feel like a Meredronian's stomped you in the morning."
The drunk started to say something, but then noticed the nearest bouncer slowly shaking his head at him and subsided sullenly.
-Team spirit,- thought Ironsides. -It's been a long time since I've been part of that.-
"So." Roadqueen knocked on his helm again. "Where's this recreation then? I could use a little fun."
He swatted at her, growling. "What's wrong with what we're doing?"
"Pah, it's going to put me to sleep."
"So will what you're drinking."
"Not as fast."
* * *
Pax paused in his conversation with Keeper about good books to read and looked from one of the old bots to the other. "Think they like each other?"
Fixer paused with his drink halfway to his mouth and cocked an optic toward the escalating snark war. "Obviously."
"Think it'll cause any trouble?" Pax accepted the handful of energon pellets that Keeper passed him and absently stuffed some into his mouth.
Fixer pursed his lips and shook his head. "They've been around too long to do anything stupid. I think this is just them being from similar times and places."
Keeper nodded, then flipped a pellet at him, which he caught with open mouth and chewed contentedly. "Think you'll downsize your subspace pockets now that it's just us?"
"No. I might need to carry one of you in there." He grinned, showing that he didn't mean them to be offline when he did it. "Someone looking for five mechs won't think to look at three, or two."
"Hmm, that's true." Pax paused in his reaching for the treat bowl and looked thoughtful.
"Hey." Keeper elbowed him again. "Is Primus saying anything?"
"That he's happy and loves us." The young bridge shrugged as best he could while flinching ticklishly. "Careful, you'll scuff my paint."
"You're too squeaky anyway." She grinned at him, then leaned back into her corner with a contented sigh and turned her focus to her drink and the oldbots' snarking. Pax and Fixer did the same, letting it, the quiet, and the music of the place lull them into a contented somnolence that lasted till it was time for them to return to the barracks.