Transformers Prime: Stay Tuned

Chapter Nine: Upside Down

 The day the first deadline ended, Rumble contacted Optimus. Per usual, Ratchet was behind him, bound on his knees in between the seekers. "Let's see if your mate did his job." The small mech drawled over his shoulder to the medic. A glare answered him. "Well, Optimus?"

"We have harvested and processed two thousand pounds of dark energon." The Prime held a cube up as evidence. It glowed violet in his servo. "How do you plan on collecting the supply?" Across from him, Bumblebee was ready to write down the details. Megatron had suggested an ambush.

"Unfortunately, we cannot trust you to perform a rendezvous. I'm sure you've been debating on an ambush, or a stealth team to follow us home." Rumble quirked an optic ridge, smirking. "I can't hand you an opportunity to swipe for your mate."

Optimus frowned. "Then how do you suppose I deliver the supply to you?"

"You won't. You'll do us a favor by holding onto it, for now. When the time comes, if you follow through, you will hand over the supply when I return your mate to you." There was a giddy flash in his visor. "That dark energy reading will draw in a lot of attention, won't it? I wonder what incoming Cybertronians will think when they find their high and mighty Prime, collecting dark energon."

Ah. Rumble wished to drag Optimus' name through the mud. Optimus sighed slowly. "Will you negotiate?"

"No, but I can always consult Mama-bot, if that will motivate you," at the implication, Skywarp reached forward to drag a talon down Ratchet's cheek.

"Very well." Optimus said quickly, venting in relief as Skywarp stopped immediately. "I will see to your other demands."

"Very good, Prime." The feed ended.

"Damn it!" Bumblebee groaned. "There goes that plan. I thought Megatron said he wasn't smart."

The door opened then, and Knock Out casually strutted in, setting a bottle in front of the scout. He didn't explain himself until the two were done talking.

"Megatron believes that there is someone else behind the scenes." Optimus set the datapad down and rose to his pedes. "Do you know where he is?"

"Early this morning, he was sending patrols to the abandoned seeker bases for reconnaissance. I haven't heard anything else."

"Thank you."

Bumblebee turned his attention to the bottle of polish before him. "Where did you get this?" He picked it up and read over the label a couple times in disbelief. "Knock Out, this stuff hasn't been in production since years before the war. I never thought I'd see it again."

The red medic beamed, plopping a basket down on the table. Beneath a giant red bow, there was an assortment of bottles. Optimus had never been the preening type, and didn't recognize any of the brands, but the look on Bumblebee's face was enough to tell him that these were a big deal. "I never thought I'd see any of these. It's been eons upon eons since I've had cosmetics of this quality, back in the day, this scrap was expensive. Elites from all around would come to cosmetic shops to be groomed with this absolute treasure." Optimus didn't think he had ever seen Knock Out speak so passionately.

Bumblebee sifted through the basket. "Where did you get these?" He demanded. "They've been out of stock since the war, and there aren't any factories up and running yet."

"This was all a gift. I have some friends that saved these all this time, and they were kind enough to pool together for a surprise." Knock Out swooned. "Not to boast, but I've worked my way into a lot of sparks as of late."