Basketball, Robots, and Police Chases Chap. 4

Bluestreak would've been smirking right now if he could. In a way, he felt bad for leaving Mirage to handle the wild case of Myra Daniels but then again - he didn't have to feel sorry for his friend either. As he drove through the underground tunnel, he could hear the faint voices of his teammates, but there was something different in their tones. Something was up...

 He came around the corner only to see their medic pacing in front of the wall mounted screen muttering. The Mustang transformed to his normal height and began to rotate his shoulders, rubbing out the sore cables. "Did someone pull a prank on Ratchet and put his wrenches in the pipes? ... Again." Bluestreak asked, glancing over to Arcee and Bulkhead.

 The smaller femme snorted. "If only that was the case."

 Bluestreak walked over to the blue femme and green mech, leaning against the wall. He looked over to their medic who continued to pace and mutter at the monitor. "What's got Ratchet's tailpipe in a twist?" The Autobot sniper whispered to Arcee.

 "We don't know." Bulkhead rumbled. "He just looked at the screen and started-" He indicated the now irritated Ratchet. "Well... this."

The gray and black Autobot shrugged. "Doesn't surprise me. How long has he been going on like this?"

The femme checked her internal chronometer and glanced back at the sniper. "...about an hour."

Bluestreak chuckled with a shake of his head. "Broke his record."

Arcee raised a ridge. "Keeping track?"

Bluestreak smirked. "Since I first joined the Autobots. Been really fun too. Sides and Sunny were mostly the ones who were Ratch's targets. It was kinda funny to watch the twins get smacked around with wrenches." The sniper glanced over to Ratchet who let out a curse, snatched up a wrench and began to fiddle with his weapon of choice.

"Ah scrap...He has the wrench out."

The three Autobots immediately shrunk down in fear. If there was a sporting event of wrench throwing, Ratchet would be taking the gold. The gray and black sniper leaned over to Arcee and murmured, "Think we should duck, or just bolt the slag on out of here?"

"Quietly vacate the area." She silently edged to the hallway to their left.

And that's when the savior of the three Autobots waltzed into the room - Lunarbolt. The femme was slightly taller than Arcee but no doubt shorter than the Prime himself. She was painted sleek, silver with red and black accents along her frame. The femme placed her hands on her hips, her optics looking over to the tensed medic. "Ratchet, is the wrench really necessary?"

Said mech stopped and blinked owlishly. "I... have a wrench?"

"Uhm... you do have one Doc...” Bulkhead replied. He had to duck as it was chucked at his head. It clanged into the wall behind him leaving a dent.

"Didn't I tell you younglings not to call me that!?"

Lunarbolt placed a hand on Ratchet's shoulder and patted the tense shoulder with a small smile. "Calm down, Ratchet. You're acting like another Decepticon decided to show their cowardly face. What's got you so on edge?"

"Exactly what you said. A Decepticon."

"Well that's not new..." Lunarbolt spoke.

Ratchet's optic ridges went straight to a frown. The medic glared at the femme. "Not just any Decepticon. Shockwave."

The femme's face dropped as did her hand from her friend's shoulder. The other three Autobots froze in their spots. "Scrap."

Ratchet gravely nodded."Indeed."

"Does Optimus know?" Lunarbolt spoke in a hushed tone.

He shook his head. "I just found out myself."

Bluestreak was the first to speak up. "Well, he's going to find out sooner or later. More so sooner than later. At least... that's what I would want."

The medic could only sigh and rub at his sore processor. "Unfortunately..."

Lunarbolt nodded and folded her arms over her chest. The smaller blue femme from across the room let out a sigh. "If Shockwave is with Megatron, it means that we're in for trouble. It's bad enough that he has more mechs than us." Arcee replied.

"Trouble? More than what we're used to?"

"Much more." Lunarbolt spoke.

"... although that's a depressing thought, I also have good news."

Bluestreak tossed his head back and let out a sigh of relief. Lunarbolt rolled her optics at the young sniper sending an inquiring look.

"We have more Autobots on their way."

The rest of the bots in the room lit up with joy. "Who?" Lunarbolt questioned the medic.

Ratchet looked at his data pad and did a double take. He then groaned and ran one of his servos over his tired face-plates. "...the Twins..."

Bluestreak's face instantly lit up. He let out a whoop of joy and pumped his fist into the air. The four Autobots in the room all whirled around to the sniper and glared daggers at him. Bluestreak chuckled lowly and brought his hand down to his side.

"Wait who?" Miko spoke as she and her two companions walked up.

Ratchet scowled as he looked at the humans. "Only the two most Pit spawned fraggers that ever walked the surface of Cybertron."

"That bad?" Jack asked. Bulkhead shook his head. "He's only exaggerating. The twins are not really all that bad. They just like to prank and Ratchet here always get on the receiving end of them."

"Oooh sweet! When do I meet them?!" Miko said excitedly which in turn made Ratchet groan in exasperation, “Primus help us…” He muttered.

"Good news, Optimus. The Twins are coming to Earth." Arcee said sarcastically as the fabled leader of the Autobots himself showed up.

"That is good news. We need them more than ever. After all, we could use two of our warriors to help out against the Decepticons." The red and blue leader replied good-naturedly hiding the humor in his optics as Ratchet made yet another disgruntled noise.

Lunarbolt stepped up to the Prime and folded her arms over her chest. "Even with the twins coming to Earth, we're facing another threat."

Optimus could tell that something was different about the femme's tone. He motioned for Lunarbolt to follow him. The two Autobots silently left the large open area of the communications/med-bay and slipped into the hallway. The femme looked back to the room and saw that the team was now chatting about the soon arrival of the infamous Terror Twins as quoted by the late weapon's specialist Ironhide.

"Shockwave's back."

The red and blue Autobot gravely nodded all humor now gone. "So I heard... This is indeed grave news."

Lunarbolt pulled the leader by the arm and aside of the rest of the team. "We have to do something to stop Shockwave. There's no telling what he could do to any one of us."

"We have time to think of something." The Prime murmured to the femme.

The silver femme glanced back at the team she had only been a part of for less than six months. She sighed and nodded. "I believe you. Just don't expect me to be happy when you decide to go out and face Shockwave alone. I'll drag your sorry aft back to base myself."

He laid a hand on her arm. "I know and I won't try to take him on myself."

Lunarbolt folded a hand on the Prime's hand and smiled. "Good." She patted the Prime lightly on the cheek and began to stride away. The femme paused in her stride and turned back with a wicked grin on her face. "Besides, I would really hate to embarrass you in front of the others." The femme chuckled.

The Prime laughed. "Amongst other things."

Meanwhile, Bluestreak stepped out of the group and walked towards his shared quarters with Mirage who was still out and driving around the lonely town of Jasper. Slipping in the quarters, he shut the door and glanced around the room. The sniper took a seat on his berth and sent his partner a quick message. "Twins are coming to Earth. Shockwave's back. Hope you're not dying of boredom."

There was some faint static then the spy's irritated voice appeared on the comm. "... You have got to be kidding me."

The younger Autobot let out a laugh and leaned back on his berth. "I'm not joking this time, Raj. Looks like Shockwave will have to take place as evil doctor this time."

"Hmm, it was inevitable. The current one they have is more or less like a joke and Megatron’s not laughing anymore."

Bluestreak held his words for a moment before jumping right into another subject. "How mad would you be if I asked you to do me a favor?"

"Another one, Blue? This is definitely going on your 'You Owe Me' list..."

"Call him."

The spy was silent. "Him?" He asked confused.

"... You know who I'm talking about."

There was a crackle of static but nothing came from the spy.

"Raj?"

"... You know why I can't do that."

Bluestreak let out a groan and flopped down on his berth, placing a servo over his forehead. "C'mon, Raj. He's the only family you have left! And as far as I'm concerned, he's been beaten around by Megsy even before Shockwave showed up."

"The answer is 'no' Bluestreak."

"Mirage, this may be our only chance to get some Intel on the Cons, do it for our cause. Don't even think about the fact that he's family... Just talk to him. Besides, think of how much it would mean to Hound if he was still around."

Bluestreak had to wait a few moments of silence before the spy's voice cut through the comm. "...Fine, for Hound. But it will be in vain... Anyway how's Ratchet holding up?"

"He's not so happy about either situation. Twins will most likely raise a bit of fun around here and Shockwave... well, there's no telling what the psycho-scientist has in store."

"We'll take him when he decides to mess around. And the Twins will definitely spice up the base...."

"It'll be like old times, won't it Raj?"

"Just like old times."

Myra panted as her head broke the surface of the swimming lane. Ugh... legs... Can’t feel them.  She lazily kicked towards the ladder, numbly thinking of why she did swimming in the first place. With shaking legs, she pulled herself out and turned around to see the scoreboard. What she saw made her smirk. That’s why.

Out of eight girls, two of them being her swimming rivals, Myra earned a second place, nearly tying with first. A fine improvement since both of her rivals was now third and fourth respectively. After a few congratulations from the other swimmers, Myra walked over to the cool-down section of the pool, where some of her buddies were now hanging out.

"Hey May-May! Nice time, going slower than before?" A tall dirty blonde joked.

Myra rolled her eyes. "Very funny Andrew."

Andrew just laughed and bent down to Myra's level; the dirty blonde couldn't help himself but shake his head. "You get so worked up on these girls and it drives you crazy, doesn't it, Myra Daniels?" The dark haired girl glowered at the boy in front of her.

She looked around pool and smirked what could be the tiniest of smirks. It could've been named a World Record... But Myra wasn't going to be the bad guy. Just more of the instigator. She grinned and curled her fingers around Andrew's shirt collar. The blonde's eyes grew wide in fear as the girl yanked him into the pool... SPLASH!

"DANIELS! WHAT THE HELL!?" Myra's head peered over the pool ledge to see her coach, fuming with some of the other swimmers by her side. Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned...

She smiled nervously. "He... Fell in Coach..." She tried not to giggle at her friend's face as he pulled himself back out of the water giving her a half -hearted glare over his shoulder. She just winked at him and he shook his head in return.

 "Why am I friends with you again?" Andrew questioned, looking over at the cheeky-looking swimmer.

 "Because I'm like the only Assassin's Creed slash Mass Effect fan around here other than you!" She grinned.

 Andrew rolled his eyes. "Of course that's the reason. Why wouldn't it be anything else?" He shot a glare at the girl who in turn held up her hands in surrender. She then climbed out of the pool and together made their way towards their "beloved" swim coach who could have a cow at any moment.

 She elbowed him. "Daaaw you love me and you know it!"

 Andrew let out a bark-like laugh. "Yeah, that's exactly what love is." He muttered sarcastically.

 Myra once again began to shake her head and roll her eyes at her blonde male friend.

 Coach Holly Price was not a happy woman. Especially when one of her swimmers decides to pull a stunt in front of public and in a swim meet like this. Coach Price could only glare daggers at Myra and shook her head. She pointed to the cleaning supply closet and said, "When pulling something like that on MY team, you get to clean the pool. Sound fair?"

 "Sorry Coach won't happen again." Myra replied while wincing inside.

 "That's what I thought." Coach Price straightened herself out and then sighed. "Alright everyone hit the showers and go home. Be here after school. See you all then." Coach Price shot a look to Myra and then walked out of the pool. Andrew gave his shorter friend a pat on the arm and whispered, "I'll text you later. See ya later May-May."

 "See you Andrew.... Go kick the Reapers' ass for me." She sighed. "I'm just glad she didn't make me do a 200..."

 Mirage was sore. But not only was he sore, he was tired and bleeding out energon at an alarming rate. He was close to collapsing as he slowly limped out of the secluded forest and towards a main road. He knew that if he transformed it would hurt worse... but he also found out that his comm. was dead. Great, no back up.

 The Italian spy slipped back into the trees and trudged his way to the outskirts of Jasper. Hopefully Bluestreak or Bumblebee, hell, even Ratchet would come looking for him. He eventually came across an ideal area with barely any other cars and transformed into his alt. mode cursing every minute of it as it brought on more waves of pain. Mirage held back his outbursts and quietly dozed off into recharge... not even having a clue of where he was.

 Myra sighed and closed the gate behind her. Finally she could go home and relax the night away with a large bowl of ice cream. Adjusting the strap of her swim bag, she started down the sidewalk enjoying the night air for once since she was now fully clothed in a pair of grey sweatpants and a light jacket. Seeing that no one was out, she let her mind wander.

 The dark haired teen strode past the sleek beauty of a red machine that was parked innocently to her left. The girl paused in her stride, took a few steps back and began to admire the sight of the beauty in front of her. Oh, why can't you just be a really hot guy and we get married? Myra glanced around the sidewalk, saw no one, and took out her phone. With a grin, the swimmer began to snap photos of the car. Hehe, take that Rica. Your mystery car has nothing on this bad boy!

It was too dark to tell the make and model, but she could tell it was a very rare car... well for this town anyway. Getting all the photos she wanted, she pulled up her gallery and scrolled through them in her viewing screen.  She blinked after a couple of them, a deep frown forming. What the....? In every photo, she cringed at the sight of dents and ugly scratches that stood out on the otherwise gorgeous paint job. What happened to you? She wondered. It seemed that this car went through a bad monster truck rally.

 Glancing around the sleek vehicle, Myra noticed that no one was coming up to claim the car. Then again, she thought. Who wouldn't want to claim this car? She ignored that thought and decided to make her way around the rear of the car. She didn't live too far. It wouldn't hurt to get this precious piece of car history in her garage. Myra adjusted her swim bag and then placed her hands on the car... it was warm... Okay, the car is warm and I'm not dead. I think that's a good sign.

 Setting her shoulder against it she began to push and much to her surprise it moved fairly easily. I'll... just hold this in my garage and call the police in the morning... yeah that'll work.

Meanwhile, back at the underground base, most of Team Prime had fallen into recharge but one mech remained awake...

C'mon Raj, give me some sort of sign that you're still alive.

Bluestreak leaned up against his berth, staring at the empty berth across from him. Mirage was still out gathering Intel, but there was something different. The spy would've been back by now... so, what was holding him back? He can't be dead... Ratchet would've said something about his spark-signal going offline. The sniper brushed back the thoughts of imagining his partner's mangled body and energon staining his own paint.

He sighed. "Wherever you are, you better come back fragger...." The mech muttered.

"Who better come back?" Bluestreak visibly jumped at the sound of Lunarbolt's voice at the door.

The femme was leaning against the door frame with her arms placed neatly over her chest. The sniper let out a sigh and ran a servo over his tired face plates. The silver colored femme nodded and took a seat next to Bluestreak. "You don't have to worry about him, Bluestreak. Mirage is a well-capable mech of handling things on his own."

"Yeah I know." He waved her off.  "He would be insulted about me worrying about him."

"Exactly." The femme replied.

She saw the sniper lower his head and sigh again. Lunarbolt gently laid a hand on the younger bot's shoulder. Bluestreak glanced at the femme before smiling softly. "Thanks. You've been a big help since they died." The femme knew who the sniper was talking about. She nodded and patted the mech on the arm. "Let me know if you need anything else. I'm always here and so is Optimus."

He inclined his head in respect grateful for the caring thought. "I keep that in mind every day."

Lunarbolt gave the sniper a one-arm hug before standing up and making her way out of the room. But before she left, the femme looked back at the Autobot and caught optic of a data-pad with a photo of Prowl, Jazz, and a young Bluestreak in their arms. Lunarbolt smiled fondly of the memory and said, "Get some recharge. You still have school tomorrow." And with that said, Lunarbolt left the sniper to himself.

Bluestreak snorted. "Yes Mother." He muttered with a mock salute. The sniper flopped back onto his berth and then glanced over to the empty berth next to him.

 Get back here soon, Raj.