Unspoken

Tensions Rising

The Autobot base was alive with activity as the crew took a rare moment of respite. Repairs to the base were underway, though the recent battles had left much of it in disarray. But despite the chaos, morale among the Autobots had been higher than ever since Jetfire's arrival. His confident, often boisterous presence seemed to inject the team with a sense of invincibility.

In one corner of the base, Jetfire and Smokescreen sat at a table, their large hands clasped in the middle as they prepared for an impromptu arm-wrestling match. Hot Shot, Skifira, and the kids had gathered around, each of them eager to see who would win.

"Alright, Smokescreen," Jetfire grinned as he flexed his arm, showing off a little more than necessary. "Let's see if you've got what it takes to take me down."

Smokescreen smirked, his optics glowing with determination. "You've been bragging ever since you showed up, Jetfire. Time for you to learn a little humility."

Carlos leaned forward excitedly. "Come on, Jetfire! You've got this!"

Meanwhile, Alexis was cheering... for both of them. "You can do it, Smokescreen! No, wait—go Jetfire!" She clapped enthusiastically for both combatants, confusing Carlos.

"Alexis, pick one!" Carlos laughed, shaking his head.

She smiled brightly, shrugging. "Why can't I cheer for both? They're both my friends."

The two Autobots grunted as they locked hands, muscles straining as they began the contest. Jetfire had the upper hand at first, his strength pushing Smokescreen's arm dangerously close to the table. But Smokescreen fought back, his servos whining as he pushed against the pressure. The two bots were locked in a fierce struggle, neither one willing to give in.

"Jetfire's got him!" Hot Shot exclaimed, his optics glued to the match.

But just as it seemed Jetfire would win, Smokescreen's arm suddenly gave out. He grunted and shook his head, waving his arm dramatically. "Ah, my arm fell asleep. That's the only reason I lost!"

"Sure it did, Smokescreen," Jetfire teased, grinning as he stood up and stretched. "Next time, maybe take a nap before you try to take me on."

Alexis giggled at the playful banter, her thoughts drifting for a moment. It's nice to see everyone so relaxed, she thought to herself. Morale's been so much better since Jetfire arrived. She admired how much lighter things felt with his presence, though she knew deep down the war was far from over.

While the Autobots enjoyed their moment of camaraderie, things were far from harmonious at the Decepticon base on the Moon. Inside the shadowy halls, Thrust stood before Megatron, his optics narrowed as he explained the recent failures.

"The reason both of my plans failed," Thrust began, his voice calm but firm, "is because the Decepticons lack what the Autobots possess—teamwork. They fight together, unified, while we are too busy bickering and undermining one another."

Megatron's optics flared with anger at the perceived insult to his leadership. "Are you questioning my command, Thrust?"

"No, Lord Megatron," Thrust replied, bowing slightly in deference. "But if we are to win this war, we need to act as a unit. I beg of you, give me another chance to prove myself."

Demolishor, who had been listening nearby, scoffed loudly. "Teamwork? Since when has teamwork ever been our strength? We're Decepticons! Strength and power are all that matter."

Thrust turned toward Demolishor, his optics cold. "And that, Demolishor, is why we continue to fail."

Starscream and Cyclonus watched the exchange with mild amusement, clearly entertained by Demolishor's outburst. "Looks like the 'brilliant tactician' isn't so brilliant after all," Starscream remarked, earning a chuckle from Cyclonus.