Well, I promised myself this would come out last week and look... I'm a week late. *headdesk* That so figures. However, I DO have a good excuse. Family troubles have a way of wearing down on you and making you want to rip out your own hair. Especially when you're trying to get your bi-polar mother to get along with your bi-polar sister. Luckily, we got them to sit down to talk to them and let them know that what they are doing is affecting everything and everyone else and they agreed to go to therapy for their own relationship. Hopefully, things will be better from now on.

So yeah. That's what's been happening in my life right now.

But here it is, not as long as I wanted it to be,but it was fun to write and this seems to be turning into a series of Supremebots oneshots anyway... I shall try to rectify that by actually adding PLOT!

No promises though.

Disclaimer: The only thing I co-own with Darkeyes17 is the idea of this story and the Supremebots. All recognizable characters belong to Hasbro as well as Transformers.

Enjoy~


Chapter Four: Damn, that aft!


For all intent and purposes, the Command Staff Meeting had gone rather smoothly aside from all of the curious mechs who were chatting and spreading rumors in the common room. After all, a meeting requiring all of the command staff hadn't been seen since they had awoken on Earth, so most of the Ark's crew knew something big had happened.

Aside from that, nothing had gone horribly wrong.

Unless you counted Ironhide suddenly drawing his weapons on the poor gestalt when they filed in behind Prowl, Ratchet whacking the weapon's specialist over the helm for being stupid, Red Alert twitching and eyeing the new mechs suspiciously and Blaster and Maverick making with the flirty little finger waggles and teasing grins. Primus help them all, it was another Sideswipe!

All in all, a relatively normal day on the Ark.

"Very well, now that the command staff knows the situation and Jazz has agreed to update the crew regarding the circumstances, I would like to take them around the Ark." Prowl informed Optimus after the meeting room had cleared. "They need to be acquainted with the interior of the ship and we need to find them spare rooms. As it stands, it's looking like we will need to expand again. I would also like to fit them into the shift cycles, as well as patrols. Especially the fliers. Two extra sets of wings may give us the advantage in the coming future."

Optimus nodded, casting a glance at the closed door. He knew the five mechs were waiting on the other side. Most likely some of the officers were talking to them. It was a phenomenon that he was still getting used to himself. "Thank you Prowl. A tour of the Ark may help them feel more at ease."

The Autobot SIC and Head Tactician gave a small solute to his commander. "Then I will be off, Prime. The sooner this is done, the sooner I may get to work on our new space issue."


"Boooored!" Maverick groaned, flopping back on the medical berth of the private room they had fist awoken in the medbay.

"Yer always bored, Mav." Sidevex grinned, his baby blue optics only visible by outline through his golden visor. Even so…

"I don't care," The flier whined. "They should let me and Rev fly."

His brother's wings twitched in sympathy where he leaned against another berth, Maelstrom snuggled into his side.

"We don't have full clearance yet." Powerflash answered absently, reading through a datapad on rules, what was expected of the gestalts and his new position as a subcommander and possible advisor for the younger gestalts. There were about 100 sections… all written by Prowl… Hmmm… He may need to speak to the SIC about how gestalts actually worked. That would help a lot with the way the schedules were right now.

"Yer kiddin' aren't ya? We've been Omega fer so long, and now we're five separate mechs we need clearance?" The ex-racer's voice was full of incredulity.

"It would have been nice if they had at least showed us to the recreation room first." Revolution cut in, his smooth vocal baritone accentuated by the regal tone hidden in his speech pattern. His arm had moved to let the smaller mech snuggle closer and his optics glinted with a familiar slyness that Powerflash knew could be wielded just as well as his wing-blades.

"It would have been." Maelstrom agreed, content to let his and his gestalt-mate's EM fields mingle pleasantly. "We could have perhaps gotten a chance to meet some of the others."

Powerflash glanced at his team with a raised optic brow. "And even then, Maverick would still have found a way to be bored."

"That's not true! I call unjust accusations!" The smaller flier cried in his defense, sounding completely serious.

And Maverick being Maverick, he most likely was.

"Yeah, he woulda'." Sidevex snickered.

"Glitch face."

"Motherboard defunct."

"Yeah, well you're a deadbolt with a broken cylinder!"

"Ya callin' meh stupid?" Sidevex growled, golden visor flashing dangerously.

"Your grasp of the obvious astounds me, grounder."

The racer's sleek form stood from where he was perched on the counter, moving a quarter of the way to where his mate lay sprawled on the berth. "Do not make meh come over there."

Maverick eyed the space between them before his lips curled into a taunting grin. "Congratulations on making it halfway to the halfway point."

There was no more time to think, the speedster across the room in less than a klik and tackling the flier from the berth, with a war cry. With a startled squawk, Maverick and Sidevex tumbled over the edge of the berth to the floor, Maverick twisting at the last second to try to pin the flailing courier under him and save his wings. They hit the ground with an 'oof' before Sidevex planted his pedes on the ground and shoved upwards, scrabbling to flip them.

A playful growl and Maverick pressed down, making himself almost deadweight. "Careful there, 'Vex. Wouldn't want to think you're starting something I'm inclined to finish."

"Get off ya great oaf o'va flier!" The racer continued to squirm and push and flail until he had successfully twisted enough to hook a knee around larger mech's thigh. With all the speed in his frame, he rolled, pushing the surprised Maverick to the side where he crashed into a cart of assorted medical tools waiting to be cleaned.

The flier shook his head to clear it of the impact before launching himself at his smaller mate again, this time the two of them hitting Maverick's previously occupied berth and knocking that over too. Powerflash and Maelstrom stood to separate the two before any more damage could be caused with their playful wrestling, while Revolution stayed where he was, arms crossed across his cockpit and optics glinting in amusement.

"What the frag is going on in here!" The wrestling on the ground stilled, Powerflash freezing where he had been reaching for Sidevex's shoulders to pull him off and Maelstrom looked at the medico in alarm, hands gripping Maverick's arm.

Ratchet took in the askew berth, the spilled energon that had been sitting on it, the discarded datapad on the counter and his face darkened as his gaze alighted on the toppled table and all his medical tools littering the corner of the room. A sense of dread began to permeate the air.

"Out." Ratchet's voice was quiet, deadly and even if they personally didn't have experience dealing with the medic's famous temper, none of them were stupid enough to tempt him.

"What?" Well, none except for Maverick who had stood up at this time leaving Maelstrom to catch Sidevex before he hit the ground.

They all flinched when Ratchet stalked the rest of the way into the room, grabbed Maverick by a wing tip and proceeded to drag him by the sensitive appendage.

"I said out you insufferable flitter glitch!" He yelled, ignoring the pained whines from the large flier. The rest followed sedately, not willing to provoke. "You can wait for Prowl in the hall and wrestle and fight there! Then you can be Red Alert's problem!"

With surprising strength, he chucked the much larger mech out the doors, Maverick landing with a loud crash against the floor. He turned to watch the others file out the door, his gaze softening on the cowering Maelstrom who was now using the glaring Revolution as a shield. As soon as the door closed on them, Revolution and Sidevex were at Maverick's sides and hauling him up. Revolution was still glaring at the closed door, bristling at the treatment of his brother and one of his mates. Maelstrom had taken to staying close to Powerflash since Revolution wasn't an available shield to hide behind at the moment. It was silent for a moment.

"Sorry guys." Maverick mumbled, standing on his own after having shaken his brother and mate off. "My fault."

"Jus' as much mine as it is yers." The racer sighed, patting the fliers arm.

"We'll take this as a lesson learned. Don't fight, play or otherwise in Ratchet's Medical Bay." Powerflash grinned. "Revolution, stop pouting at the door, I doubt Ratchet can feel, see or care."

The graceful jet turned his pout on his leader who rolled his optics and stood straight, indicating they should just wait out here as Ratchet said. Prowl would be along soon, so they didn't have much to worry about.

As predicted, the SIC came around the corner not a few moments later, datapad in hand.


Tracks sighed, bored out of his processor as he made his way through the halls of the Ark. He was still on light duty, Ratchet not entirely happy with the way the tension cables and reaction wires were healing in his shoulder where his 'wing' had been ripped off and it was driving him slowly crazy.

He never had quite realized that there just wasn't much to do around the Ark. And Ratchet didn't want him going far either; afraid the elements of Earth would aggravate the healing circuits more and give the medic more work to do. Which meant he couldn't even go hang out with Raoul.

Thus his life was looped in a never ending rotation of monitors and boredom for the time being.

Yippee.

The multicolored mech sighed again, and did his best not to slump as he walked. It wouldn't be dignified after all. Well, he was off duty for the moment, his shift done for the day and all the free time he could want on a normal day. If there were things to do, frag it.

Of course there was the announcement base wide that they had five recruits that arrived today. He could always check out the new guys. He'd need to find them first.

And luck was on his side this time as he turned a corner to head for the rec room in a round about kind of way. There, being led by Prowl were five new mechs. He couldn't really see their faces, considering he had come up behind them, but two were fliers if the wings were anything to go by. One of them was lagging, slightly behind the others as Prowl led them on and pointed things out. The fact that he had his nose in a datapad and was mumbling to himself probably had something to do with it. He was smaller than the rest, not by much though. If Tracks were to put him next to himself, the mech probably came up to his shoulder. He was pretty good looking, cute, petite and a well balanced mix of colors. The way his face screwed up in concentration, optics shining with intent, lips slightly pursed and brow ridges high was kind of… cute.

The multicolored mech stood back silently, just watching the mech lag a little further behind again, brow ridges coming down in confusion before shooting back up in realization as he flipped to another section was amusing. Tracks' optics traced down the rest of the frame, sizing him up like he was new territory. Hey, there was nothing wrong with scoping out a new mech who might just be a good lay. The maroon chassis was certainly eye catching and the way his chassis tapered into silver mid drift and then…

'Damn, that aft!' Tracks thought, his optics drawn to the pale yellow aft that swayed slightly as the mech walked. Now he wouldn't mind getting a piece of that.

Striding forward, overactive processor moving before his logic center could catch up, Tracks closed the distance between himself and the group. A sharp clang of metal meeting metal resounded through the hall, followed almost instantly by a loud and very cute squeak of surprise. Powerflash's helm swung around, his datapad forgotten and indigo optics cycled wide and bright in startled surprise. Tracks' servo still rested against the pale yellow aft where he had slapped it and the doorwinged mech smirked, lips curling up in a sultry grin as he leaned in, ready to let off with a snazzy line about destiny and stars… when the world suddenly tilted violently and he was pinned to the floor by two snarling fliers.

Powerflash was yanked into the safety of Sidevex and Maelstrom's arms, both of them glaring energy daggers at the flattened mech.

Revolution got right in the red faceplates, denta bared and making his elegant faceplates appear dangerous and hauntingly beautiful. "Do. Not. Touch. OUR. Mate." He said quietly, promising pain should the multicolored mech try something stupid again.

"That is quite enough!" Prowl's voice drifted from behind them all. "Revolution, Maverick, let him up. This is not how you should greet your crewmates." With final growls and hisses, both jet's stood, wings hiked up to shield their smaller mates from view.

Tracks sat up flinching slightly as his injured shoulder spasmed in protest. "Perhaps you will have learned the lesson of keeping your hands to yourself." Revolution said quietly, as they turned and continued with their tour as if nothing had happened. The only difference was that Powerflash was now being herded along in the middle, none of the gestalt willing to take another chance with another mech.

They turned a corner, the stunned Tracks still sitting in the hall, bemused.

"Well, guess that was an interestin' run in wit' Powerflash an' 'is crew." The voice made him jump a little and he turned his helm to spot Jazz leaning against the wall looking amused. "Betta hope Omega doesn't go an' step on ya next battle."

"What does Omega have to do with this?" Tracks mumbled irritably as he tried to examine his shoulder. He would have to see Ratchet again. The medic was not going to be happy. Fragging fliers!

"Mech, you jus' got on the bad side of four fifths of his gestalt." Jazz cackled happily, waving as he passed, intent on seeing what else might happen if he followed the new guys. They were already proving to be great entertainment.

It was quiet in the hall again, Tracks' processor trying to catch up with the words. Wait…

"Omega Supreme's GESTALT!"


REVIEWS BE DEMANDED AND THEY KEEP ME WRITING!