Ep. 1.5 - Crash and Burn - [Closed]

[Optimus Prime]

Episode 1.5 | Week 2 | Day 5


Guilt.

What was new?...

Did he make the right decisions? Did he do what was sound? Or did he just throw Fortress out to the proverbial 'wolves' as the humans would say? He didn’t let anyone leave the base without someone to back them up; he didn’t even let scouts slip out alone at this point. After what happened to Air Raid...? Who could blame him? Who could say that was crossing a paranoid line? MECH had seemed to learn enough about them to capture them when they are alone. Disappearances... leading to... to... what happened to his Autobot.

The mutilation, the sheer horrendous disregard for the life that had been within the frame. True, Air Raid was not dead, but... would it have been better?... The thought was nauseating to him. It was disgusting on multiple levels. How could he have let himself think that? And yet... how could he not? Air Raid was barely functional enough to keep systems online, and has not spoken a single word or shown any signs of improvement as far as he was aware. He would even settle for a sound of pain, or ANYTHING to show consciousness instead of that sinking black hole of idling void.

So why did he send Fortress out alone? To be... a target?... He was on a military base, but would that trigger something in his processor? Would he suddenly NEED to leave it less he have a relapse with poisoned memories?... What if he were to get attacked by MECH?... Corrupted Air Raid could be restrained rather easily, Fortress? The Tank turned against them? Most definitely could not...

Atop all this was just the sheer levels of chaos brewing beneath the surface between the remaining members. Always out of his direct observation, snaking in the corners, things implied, but never seen. A medic visit here, someone scrambling somewhere else there. The mesh of the team was... torn... and in a way how much could he call it a true team anymore?... It was almost a squad, everyone acting within inner circles, listening to commands dryly with no overall unity. It wasn't what he would equate to the family dynamic that had kept his original team strong for years before the influx of arrivals.

It would take time... he had to remember it would take time...

He was specifically choosing people that didn't know one another well to work together. Trying, attempting, to push them to get to know each other and not just by name alone. Alas, that seemed to be failing however, but he was not a social individual, so what did he know about trying to get that dynamic back?...

Optimus walked down the main passage that connected the control room to the hanger, only to hook and start down a side hallway. The lights in the side strip flickered on just as he started down it, having been off to conserve energy, only activating upon motion detectors. It created a flickering effect for a bit, casting some disjointed shadows from the pipes and cables above, until everything evened out to a static hum of the bulbs.

It did not take him long to reach what was his quarters, which was the very last along the long strip of rooms. His right hand rose, and quietly plunked in the code, the door sliding away about half way before getting lodged with a clicking pop of the internals. With a quiet exhale, he grasped its edge, and pulled to try to smash it aside far enough for him to pass.

It took a bit of jostling on his part, but he got within his quarters, only to have to pull the door closed half way until the gears caught again and it slid closed almost all the way. A slit was visible of the hallway light, and he ended up whacking his palm on the side where the mechanics were once, the panel finally clapping closed and sealing off.

He... he really should get it fixed, but with how much more needed to be repaired and improved on this cobbled together thing they called a base? He would refuse to bring it to attention and waist valuable time that could be better spent elsewhere. Really, a fully functioning door? Or improvements in weaponry that could save a life?... a little bit of added convenience? Or replaced wiring to stop the shorting out of the Med Bay Monitors?

There was little choice.

The room was rather small for one of his frame type, and was barren and empty mostly save for the basic necessities which included nothing of personal value. The only thing differing it from an empty room waiting for new Autobots? Was the monitor and console system off to the side where he would work. He didn't originally have it, having just plotted and coursed actions in the main control room, something he still occasionally did, but with the influx? He found being able to retreat to get true silence to evaluate tactics was a huge boon. It was this piece of machinery he moved to, and started to work.

Countless hours slipped past... ticking away, to a point glyphs were blurring, and the weight of his worries and frustration were dragging him down. He reached up, sliding a glyph over on the screen to a new location on the possible tactic, his hand retreating before optics managed to focus enough to realize what he had just coordinated? Made no sense and he had to move it back.

Ratchet's nagging echoed in the back of his processor, no words, but the implied tone managing the say the same thing.

He knew he needed to not overwork himself, he knew he needed to rest, but how could he find solace amongst the crushing amounts of responsibility? Over a dozen lives were relying on him to not lead them astray, though one has already fallen and joined the All-Spark, one might as well have, and another was out in the 'wilderness' and could become a target of MECH.

A broad hand pulled up to drag down his face, his free hand planting down upon the edge of the console's surface, supporting his upper torso's weight. It was not his normal formality at all, but in the seclusion of his quarters? He saw no need to hide any longer. His shoulders in turn, slumped, and it truly did seem he was carrying a grave burden on him, one that dug out true exhaustion on his features.

He had to try to relax; he had to try to detach himself. He couldn't survive constantly keyed up. His mind screamed while his frame was breaking down around him. He knew if he continued as he did? He'd probably end up unintentionally killing himself from exhaustion one of these days. But he always found a way to cope, to manage... just as he would now.

Dulled optics settled down upon a datapad that sat beside the keyboard, it having not been touched in some time as evident by the dust that settled atop its surface. It was a faint amount, ever so slight, but it was enough to show its neglect. It is this object he picked up, and brushed off, his mouth pressing into a thin line as he activated it. Optimus was a bit surprised, but overall pleased it had charge still.

With the datapad in hand, he reached forth and plucked a few keys on the console, powering it down into a state of rest where he could try to sort through it later. With the tactics closed off, he turned, and strode towards the berth, sitting down upon it. A push and a shove, he maneuvered himself to lean back against the wall that was connected to the metal slab, one of his limbs pulled up at rest, the other still off of the edge with ped on the floor as if expecting a need to stand up at any given moment.

An alarm, a comm, something always happened...

Once comfortable, he tried to read what was on the datapad. It was a human book transferred onto the digital format, detailing cultures on Earth and how vastly different they were from one another. It had absolutely no bearings on his role as a Prime, but it fascinated him, as knowledge always did. He wanted to learn, and it is through that? That he tried to force himself to detach from the grievances he harbored.

Try to break away, try to avoid. Try to shut it down for it'll just be temporary. He had to tell himself he wasn't turning his back on his team. Primus, he himself had to occasionally Harass Red Alert to try to insist he seek rest without wording it as a direct request that could trigger the Guardian obedience. But the Security Director wasn't a Prime, he wasn't the LEADER, and that’s what made it different.

Detach.

Nobody was in danger, nobody was harmed, nobody needed him right now, and nobody was starving.

These chain thoughts started to finally permit his overburdened processor to start bleeding away worries. He started to actually relax because of it, focusing in on the digital book, and what was being said on its so called 'pages'. Internal support cables that were strained taunt, were finally being given a break, and he slipped back into the mindset of how he was before the Matrix, how he was before he was Prime, back when he was just... Orion.

[Deleted]

Late night and Zoom-Zoom wasn't in recharge.

He did a lot of that these cycles. An odd sort of restlessness had settled under his plating, borne of a culmination of different factors. The inability to leave the base without a partner. Mirage. The other bots on base. Mainly though the inability to just go where he wanted and wander. Zoom-Zoom hadn't stopped moving since the Exodus, he'd always been travelling forward. Always searching for his cohort. Always on the move, looking for energon and shelter to keep himself going.

Now? Now he had four walls and a ceiling to stare at it and it bothered him on some base level. It felt wrong, just staying in one place, being stationary. This game with Mirage had driven him to obscure locations and the minibot had gotten to learn the dark corners of the Omega outpost pretty well. In some respects, the recharging in bizarre locations was its own relief, a return to Zoom-Zoom's normality, which was being terrified he was gonna get murdered in his recharge.

While he did normally return to his room come the night shifts, he often didn't stay in it for long. Zoom-Zoom recharged there on the odd occasion to throw Mirage off but having an actual berth was...kinda weird. He just wasn't used to it. He had been far more comfortable curling up on Red Alert's floor that one time than using the berth actually assigned to him. It was a holdover from his life on the streets and his Spec Ops works. Comfort was a rare thing in his life and he was far more used to simply recharging in the safest spot, not the most comfortable one.

Which was why he wasn't in his berth anymore and was, in fact, making his way up into the ceiling. The Omega base was a slap dash mixmash, originally built for humans, the renovations the Autobots had put into it were, in some regards, still incomplete. In most rooms, the ceilings were still covered in hanging pipes and wires and yet to be covered up. There were holes, if you knew where to look for them and ways into the maintenance shafts that served the base. The shafts had been scaled up, no doubt to accommodate the new Cybertronian residents who'd be servicing the base's inner workings but you still needed to be small to be able to fit into them.

Fortunately, Zoom-Zoom was such a size.

Unfortunately, the construction work in the Omega base was still very much a thing in progress. As he carefully wound his way away from the personal quarters, something decided it had had enough with the minibot's late night escapes and decided to give, right underneath him. Zoom-Zoom had just put one pede down and he had only the briefest of moments of having solid ground under it. Then-

CLUNK.

Suddenly, there was nothing beneath him but air. Zoom-Zoom had a moment to peer down dumbly, pondering why there was suddenly light of all things in what had been a very dark maintenance shaft and where had the floor just gone-

Gravity reached up and pulled the minibot down along with half the ceiling. Plaster, dust and whole lot of debris came raining down into the room beneath. Zoom-Zoom landed hard on top of something, along with the broken flooring of the maintenance shaft. Snapped cables sparked above and billows of white dust streamed down into the room on top of him, coating every surface as it swirled into the air. Zoom-Zoom's intakes were suddenly full of the stuff, the minibot coughed and hacked, trying to clear his vents before giving up and simply shutting them off so that more could not accumulate inside them.

Ratchet was going to be so slagged off.

In fact, speaking of Ratchet…

Or just the Omega base Autobots in general...whose room was this?

Zoom-Zoom peered hard through the swirling dust. Gradually, he made out the shape of the berth he was sitting on top of. And the mech who'd been occupying it before Zoom-Zoom had brought the ceiling down on top of him.

Optimus slagging Prime.

Forget Ratchet, Zoom-Zoom was so dead. So very dead. And unlike with that time with Megatron, the minibot could not just play dead and hope all his trouble were going to go away.

"Sir," he began bravely. "I can...can't explain this."

[Optimus Prime]

Optimus actually managed to bleed off the stresses he had been bottling up. He was relaxing, and setting aside all of the conflicting worries that plagued him in order to get a semblance of normality. He was actually starting to consider that he could probably go into recharge soon, try to get some much needed rest to recalibrate and be ready for whatever troubles were to come. He need only to find an appropriate point in which to mark his reading to do so, when he heard a crackle groan from up above.

The base was... damaged, and it was far edited and modified from what it once had been to be able to accommodate them. If one were to look closely? They could probably see the lines on some of the walls where there used to be a floor to separate the stories of the interior complex. Groaning architecture and shifts as some of the newer materials settled? Were not unheard of. What came though? Was definitely not anticipated.

....what?

The ceiling gave way with a crackled wrench of metal and human materials breaking and falling. It was almost akin to a cylinder of dust and particles that flowed from the ceiling in an opaque pillar before pluming and bursting out to coat every surface of the room. The white powder clogged into his internals for only the briefest of moments, before his battle mask snapped up and clapped over his maw to try to shield himself from the contaminants. This would have been absurd enough, if he didn't feel something slam down into the berth, and his leg, colliding with a crash and weight that snapped his raised knee down flush against the metal slab.

Internal mechanisms that had just finally relaxed, wrenched taunt once more, as alarm surged up instantly. Whatever had fallen? Was alive, and not just debris. If it had been? It would not have moved as it had, and would have remained stationary like the flat panels that banged into his chest and raised forearm.

Instinct from thousands of years of war, roared to the surface, pushing him over from calm, to tension, to full battle protocols. The metal panel that had crashed down over his upper body? Was heaved and pushed aside with a rough motion, causing it to slam into his adjacent wall with a rattled bang. The action in turn? Also casting the datapad that vanished amongst the fog of debris, the hole it had cut through filling up in its wake. With his arm freed? The panels across it surged and spiraled open.

Fluid mechanics twisted and churned as his palm and fingers vanished into the internals, the limb already reaching out to face the assailant that had breached into his quarters. In the fractions of seconds while his arm was being held out? He tried to construct for himself what he was dealing with. Did a Cassette infiltrate them? Did the Decepticons know where their base was and was spying? He didn’t have the time to think more than that, as the double barrels of the rifle formed with a snap, the side vents and maw of the weapon roared to life.

He would not shoot until certain, he was not trigger happy, but the charge was present, blue energy illuminating the darker room, while the maw of the gun plunged back into a searing white. The weapon only needed a click and it would fire right into the assailant's helm. Optimus of course? Did not wish to kill, but if he was being threatened in his own home? He'd have to dispatch the hazard and order an immediate evacuation.

Anndd... no...

Optimus' helm rose, and his arm pulled back a fraction after, aiming the rifle towards the ceiling as it began to cool. It still glowed from charge, as his frame tried to dissipate the coiled energy. He had heard the voice, recognized it, and soon the individual. Their armor was painted with the white dust, but it was still notably red, and this? Paired with the voice and size of the mech? And he knew it had to have been Zoom Zoom.

The Prime was still sitting on the slab of metal, back up against the wall, while his one leg was post straight from being rammed into from the fall. There would probably be a dent on it, but he couldn't tell at this point since his attention was elsewhere.

He did not speak, he did not comment, his piercing blue eyes just looking at Zoom Zoom in a mix of shock and aggravation, but a very high amount of confusion that dwarfed the other emotions. The only sounds other than the dying hum of his weapon? Was the rattled noise from his vents. He didn’t move, didn’t lurch, didn’t do what would normally be paired with a 'cough' but the sounds still sputtered and crackled faintly. His silence? Was a wordless demand for Zoom Zoom to at least TRY to explain this... partly because he was too caught off guard to figure out how to ask.

Optimus blankly stared back akin to a deer in the headlights.

[Deleted]

Zoom-Zoom was beginning to get a little bit tired of having cannons pointed in his face. Or at least, some small part of him was bitterly observing this, the rest of his processor had sorta crawled away in a corner, meeping pitifully. It was a really, really big gun.

And it was pointed in his face. And it was glowing hot. The glow of death. Twin glows of death.

Zoom-Zoom could make out the nice, finer details in the inner two gun barrels, that's how close the cannons were to his face. If they were capable of it, his optics probably would have doubled in size behind his visor. The hysterical part of his processor blandly observed, 'Wow, not even Megatron got this close," and it was a fight, a real fight with his self preservation instincts and non-existent processor to vocaliser filter to keep some smart mouthed -stupid- comment to himself. Comparing your supposedly benevolent boss to his mortal enemy while he had a gun to your head probably was a good way to get shot. Still, the urge was building away in his systems to the point he actually disabled his vocaliser out of fear that something would escape.

The minibot pulled himself inwards, trying to make himself as small and non-threatening as possible. After what felt like an eternity, eventually the guns were pulled away from him and pointed at the ceiling. Relieved, Zoom-Zoom shuttered his optics once and stared mutely back at the Autobot leader.

Dust swirled and began to slowly settle on the two Autobots. Optimus's gun might no longer be pointed at him but Zoom-Zoom seemed to be stuck in the same stupefied paralysis that Prime was in. Occasionally, behind his visor, the minibot blinked but he really, really didn't trust himself to start talking and didn't even know where to begin.

Blandly, he started back at Prime.

[Optimus Prime]

The silence between the two was painful; it's suffocating stillness so much so that one would have to wonder if their audio receptors were damaged from the calamity previously. This was only proven to not be true, by the faint occasional churn from Optimus' vents, and the light clicks of debris falling from the absolutely massive hole that had once been a large portion of his ceiling. But even then? The 'coughing' didn't last much longer, and soon stalled out to nothingness.

The dust was settling with every passing moment that the stare down continued. It coated his floor in a thick shell, while the computer was covered so much so that seeing the glyphs in the keys? Was downright impossible. The walls had a faint amount lightly dusted across the surface, highlighting grooves and ridges were the plates of metal had been connected together during construction.

When it came to the destruction? Around his berth was where it was the absolute worst. There were the actual chunks of the ceiling, and the maintenance shaft scattered about on the flooring. Some of them were on the slab itself still, half hanging on, half on the ground. Some of the components still clutched onto the ceiling, draping from the gaping wound in hooking arches of cables and bent pipelines.

A light 'skint' rang out when Optimus' battle mask finally peeled away, his features flattened and mouth slightly parted as if he wanted to speak, but simply could find no words in which to do so. This motion was paired with his right arm finally twisting away from its rifle state. The armor panels pushed out, revealing the high level of complexity hidden beneath, a glint of the sword seen for the briefest of moments, before the gun was gone and replaced with his hand. The servo flexed carefully, before placing down on the slab he sat upon, still just flatly watching Zoom Zoom.

Megatron probably never had to deal with this nonsense... though he would have offlined Zoom Zoom the very second he impacted. There would likely be nothing left but a body without an upper chest and head due to the pure unfiltered power of that canon. That fear? Likely drove everyone to stay in line and not... mess around... yet Optimus could never lead with fear, even though internally an element was hissing in his ear, hinting of ways to yell, to berate, to get ANGRY at this violation of his personal quarters, and disrupting his rest.

He pushed it aside, not wanting to listen to the suggestions, not wanting to follow down their path. But while he didn't listen to the prodding to show aggression? He didn’t lean the other direction either. Optimus didn't try to reassure the small mech that it was all ok, that it was all just fine. He... he wanted an explanation for what had prompted this. What leads to it? WHY Zoom Zoom was even up there to begin with?... He could NOT be bold enough to try to spy on him... or so he would think...? The possible risks were too high right? The small mech didn’t KNOW he wouldn't beat them down for the affront.

And so?... the staring match continued.

It was then he got a comm, no... two... three... a chain coming in all from the same individual, all asking different questions, all worded in new ways, yet all zeroing on the same theme of 'are you alright?!'.

Oh... wonderful...

Optimus' optics shuttered a moment, trying to clear off the lens plates from any dust that may have settled across its surface. It was a gradual blink though, not really in any rush to open his eyes and come face to face with the horrendous mess once again.

[Deleted]

The minibot dedicated some serious thought about the viability of keeling over, kicking his colour changing system and spark dampener into gear and playing dead. It was an elaborate plan, he delved into what he would do if Optimus dragged him to the med-bay (try and sneak out of Ratchet's watchful optics somehow?) and his subsequent escape from the Omega base, never to return. Of course, he was ignoring the reality that it was highly unlikely anyone would fall for it, given that there was a report floating around somewhere in the base network titled 'Escaping Megatron: A How To Guide on Playing Dead."

Soooo other random, inane thoughts filtered through his brain as more dust settled on top of him. Zoom-Zoom was glad that he'd shut off his vocaliser for once because he was certain that whatever escaped from it would not help the slightest.

"It wasn't me!"

"Someone really needs to check the integrity of the maintenance shafts. Oh wait, I just did that for you. Here's my report: they suck."

"Uuuuuh. How's your cycle going Prime? Good, right? I mean it must have been going great but that ceiling collapsing thing thatIwasn'tresponsiblefor, I bet it just brought it down to good."

"Those kids huh? We should tell them to stop feeding the rats. They're getting really big and, wow, now look what they did."

"Hey, what happened to your ceiling? Oh, don't mind me, I just spontaneously developed transwarp capability and was coming to see ya."

"Well Prime, it was nice seeing you and all, but I'm just going to go now."

Several audible clicks could be heard as his vocaliser reset itself as the urge to break the awkward silence grew before Zoom-Zoom forcibly shut it off again. No talking, he scolded himself. No talking. Talking is bad. Talking is gonna get me killed. Talking is-

Holy Primus, was that-did I just- that was his sword right?

As Optimus folded his cannons away, Zoom-Zoom's optics had picked up the sharp glint of a blade housed within Prime's arm. Even though it was midst transformation and it only took an astrosecond before Prime had a hand again, the minibot had flinched and flattened himself against the berth. Too many memories of nearly getting shanked on the streets tended to do that to you. But when nothing more came, he slowly unfolded himself.

Silenced reigned on. Zoom-Zoom kept staring back.

The occasional click escaped from him but the minibot did not dare to speak a word.

[Optimus Prime]

If Zoom Zoom were to have played dead? It likely would not have been good in the slightest. There was only two ways it would have panned out, for either Optimus would find means to electrocute the minicon to try to revive and send energy through his frame? Or he would have peered right through the ruse and continued to watch back to prolong the awkward silence of the stare down. So basically it was either critical failure of the ploy, or the possibility for a lot of unintended pain before being run to the Med Bay.

What did happen though, was the minicon... flinching back? Cowering?... Even though it was only just for a fraction of a second, brought on from his forearm transforming back, the motion bothered him at a core level. He did not like the idea of one of his Autobot's actually flinching away from him like he was going to strike them down for stepping out of line. Granted, Zoom Zoom truly did screw up... this was a horrendous mess... and a few swatting whacks may not be COMPLETELY out of line, though it was still something he refused to do in any way shape or form.

This cowering motion paired with the chain squawking in his comm system, finally pushed the Prime into action. His right hand lifted, and lightly planted down on the side of his helm, depressing the relevant tiny plates that would activate his own comms. He had an older system, and as such? Needed to speak verbally to reply as well as push his fingertips down. It is with this? He spoke, finally breaking the silence, even if it was not to Zoom Zoom himself.

"All is fine Red Alert; I will report once the situation is handled."

He tried to... ignore the chaining responses to his words, but he wasn't really in the mood to deal with that at this time. Red Alert was told things were fine, and that he would be filling him in on what occurred once it was smoothed over. The Security Director could wait to get said details, and didn’t NEED to have a detailed report of what the 'explosion' had damaged and how it had occurred instantaneously. It is once he tried to brush this aside, he turned back upon Zoom Zoom, his hand lowering once more.

Pulling his dented leg back a bit? And easing up from his resting position against the wall? He lifted the knee up once more to be able to view his shin to try to access what damage there may have been. Optimus leaned to the side ever so slightly to do so, seeing that the armor there wasn't dented like he thought it may have been, but it was scuffed, some of the blue paint ripped away in a couple spots. The scraped limb then eased to the side on the slab of metal, going over the edge to let it fall to the ground below to sit beside its pair. The motion kicked up a bit of the dust, but really? At this point? Who could even care, as it wasn't like it was going to make MORE of a mess somehow.

Optimus then peered up with a tilt of his helm to look at the hole in the ceiling itself, before glancing over at the minicon again. A push, and shove, and the Prime was upon his feet, causing what debris had remained on him to fall off and plunk to the ground below. Finally he spoke to Zoom Zoom, tone tight, yet trying oh so hard to push in understanding and patience into the voice.

"What were you doing."

He knew there had to be a reason right? There HAD to be a logical explanation. Something to not paint the minicon in bad light. First assumptions often thought the worst in a situation such as this right?... He had to give him a chance. Maybe someone in the base had instructed him to do repairs up there? Maybe there was something he needed to check out? Organic lifeforms that were not humans finding their way within? He knew Rats were a possibility, while they were no Scraplets, they could cause their own dangers to a mechanical system.

[Deleted]

Zoom-Zoom kept very, veeeery still as Optimus answered his comm. Perhaps his optics blinked again behind his visor as he realised Prime was speaking to Red-oh frag, RED ALERT was going to slagged with him. Then again, like, just about everyone was going to angry and annoyed and when you already have the head of your entire faction deeply fragged off with you, none of the others actually counted anymore. The minibot had slagged off a lot of mecha in his life but this...well.

This was the first time, he'd angered a Prime.

...he was going through a lot of firsts here on Earth. First major reformat…first time to meet a Prime...first time to encounter Megatron...first time to shoot Megatron in the head...first time to break Optimus's ceiling…

Whoever said you should go out and live your life and explore new experiences was lying.

Zoom-Zoom did not move an inch as Optimus re-arranged himself on the berth, examining his leg for damage. Oh great, damaging a Prime, yet another first. It was minor, mainly cosmetic and the minibot internally was thanking Primus for small mercies. Ratchet probably would have furious if Zoom-Zoom had damaged something major. Then Prime was on his feet and looming above Zoom-Zoom.

The minibot shrank at the question. He also shrank back because he was always hyperaware of his size in comparison to every other mech and, as so recently demonstrated by Fortress Maximus and Carbine, could oh so easily be manhandled by larger bots. Prime was a big bot and maybe he wasn't intending to loom but that's what it felt like. It was an ingrained instinct of Zoom-Zoom to be wary of mecha larger than him i.e just about everyone else.

Then, it finally came.

The Question.

Like a switch had been triggered or a damn finally burst, all those words Zoom-Zoom had been fighting down came pouring out. Faced by Optimus's stern countenance, it did not even occur to the minibot to lie or devise some far-fetched story. This was probably helped by the fact that the last time he'd tried lying, he'd been facing Fortress Maximus aaaaand that hadn't ended very well.

"I-sir! I was-uh. Look, I'm sorry about your ceiling. So sorry. Really sorry. Swear to Primus, I did not know that was going to happen. Or I uh. Wouldn't have been up there. I mean it. I really do. But hey, now we know that that the maintenance shafts need some work! Which is good. This though. This not so good. This is very bad actually. And I'm sorry. Really sorry, I can't stress that enough."

With effort, Zoom-Zoom tried directing himself to answering Prime's actual question because otherwise all he'd be doing was giving apologies all night. "Couldn't recharge. I couldn't recharge. It's the room and my berth and it just doesn't. Ah. Feel right. It drives me crazy. I can't recharge. In there." Much of this halting ramble was punctuated by wild gestures of his servos. "So I don't normally stay there. At night. In my berth. Except ah. Except Red Alert fiiiinally got round to installing cameras at my height level in the halls. Which sucks. So-" Zoom-Zoom shrugged and gestured helplessly at the sad remains of the maintenance shaft. "'s how I get around base, if I need to. When I don't want to be seen. Which is some the time. Most of the time. ...all of the time."

The minibot peered up at Prime. "Did I mention how sorry I am about this? Because I really, really am." And then, because once Zoom-Zoom got started, it was always so hard to stop, the next words escaped his vocaliser in a rush. "Pleasedon'tshootme."

Realizing what he'd just said and implied about Prime, Zoom-Zoom jerked as his optics widened. "Not that I think you would! Ignore that. I didn't mean it. Just like I didn't mean to, uh, fall through your ceiling and you know what. I'm shutting up now."

The minibot was very much just wishing the ground would swallow him whole at this point.

[Optimus Prime]

One would have to wonder if Zoom Zoom even COULD have damaged something major by landing on Optimus' shin. The armor panels there were reinforced, and he had swung them with all of his power and strength into Megatron's side without collapsing them inward with notable damage. The scuffs? Truly were just cosmetic, and compared to the myriad of others that adorned his frame in thin scratches? He didn't much care. Time would permit self repairs to tend to it if they even bothered. He was not vain enough to seek amending them. Unless scuffs and scrapes were so numerous it made him more grey than red or blue? He would not bother.

Optimus did not really think at all when he stood, he just did so under the attempt to regain some formality once more. It was apparent such an action was a mistake though, as the fearful minibot shrank back on his perch, showing more of that fear Optimus didn't really appreciate. He understood it... but... he just wished it wasn't there... It was derailing all of his frustrations and making it exceptionally difficult to be upset at what had happened.

He didn’t WANT to be upset, but in some ways he somewhat did. This was a breach of privacy, and he had been so close to actually getting in a mindset to accept recharge for once. That was always an uphill battle, and it was robbed from him by whatever crazy thing the new mech had been doing in the maintenance shafts. But how could he be upset? They were obviously distressed, and they were almost cowering?... It was robbing him then of being able to feel that emotion just as he was robbed of recharge. He almost wanted to then be upset at that, but how could he be angry at someone for being meek? How irrational was that?

As Zoom Zoom's pleas of apology rang out, his optics which had held the faintest of fierce edges, seemed to soften in expression. The welled up agitation, was bleeding away to an exhausted look of quiet acceptance, slowly giving up on his own emotions. He did not speak, but instead listened carefully as ZZ quickly chained out multiple sentences into an exceptionally frantic explanation. Optimus was feeling rather bad for the mech, starting to try to formulate a solution or questions to ask, when Zoom Zoom basically stabbed him in his spark.

The Prime flinched ever so slightly at what had been said, as if the plea for him not to shoot the Minibot was a literal wound against him. It seemed they picked up on this front however, as ZZ's following words tried to rectify it, but the damage had already been done.

Carefully, Optimus leaned forward, and planted the side of his forearm down atop the slab of metal that consisted of his berth. With a swooping motion, he dragged it over the unoccupied section of the surface, to clear off the residual shrapnel from the ceiling, before he eased down to sit on its edge. It felt... odd to sit down to speak to one of his Autobots, but he knew now Zoom Zoom feared him to some extent, and he didn’t want to stand above him like he had been any longer. As such, he just sat with his side facing the red mech, shoulders and helm turned towards him slightly.

"What is it of your room that does not work?"

How did this turn into trying to help Zoom Zoom?... he still wanted to be frustrated, his optics settling back down on his floor to look at the disarray, before looking across at the coated computer, but he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to be angry, he couldn't bring himself to try to issue some kind of punishment, not when there seemed to be a stressor in place that prompted the retreat into the ceiling to begin with.

When he had spoken, he tried to remove the tension from his tones, trying to flow back into the calm voice of leadership the team knew of him. It wasn't hard, since he had eventually given up fighting back, dropping his anger into that seemingly bottomless pit he hid it.

[Deleted]

Zoom-Zoom was not exactly afraid as per say. He was wary, yes. Cautious of what Prime would decide to do with him, cautious of Prime himself and what he was capable of, if he so had the inclination for it. But that was how the minibot always was. Other mecha, mecha that weren't cohort, made him twitchy in general. Zoom-Zoom was convinced the universe had it out for him. That if there was a divine entity such as Primus, then Zoom-Zoom's life was just one long ride of amusement to such a being. Right now, he believed that Prime was angry with him and so he'd sought to try and assuage his commanding officer's displeasure.

His countless apologies did not stem out of fear. Rather, it was more because he was a situation where he recognized that he was clearly at fault, that he had done wrong and so he attempted to convey his regret over what he'd caused. Prime would well be in his rights to have the minibot on punishment duty for the few thousand vorns. He was also very much in his rights to be extremely upset at the mess Zoom-Zoom had caused. And yet...he wasn't. He was being far more...accommodating that any mech in his position had right to be.

The comment about shooting had slipped out and not meant in any seriousness. His follow-up words had meant to dismiss his half-brained words that had implied a whole bunch of things about Prime's character the minibot was sure he didn't appreciate. Zoom-Zoom tended to run his vocaliser without thinking fully about what he was actually saying. He was not aware of the impact one wild, errant thought would have on Prime. Because if he did, he'd have continued and milked it for all that it was worth.

The minibot kept still as Prime seated himself again. Optimus would probably be very displeased to know that his action really hadn't made the situation any better because now he oh so much closer to Zoom-Zoom. Who had this thing about personal space and how everyone should just really keep clear of his.

"What is it of your room that does not work?"

Zoom-Zoom blinked once behind his visor. ...that's it? Prime was being awfully...uh, understanding with this whole mess. Or maybe the punishment detail was coming later or something. But hey, at least he was asking questions and not say, just having hauled away without the minibot allowed to say a word in defence or explain himself.

His mouth fell open. Zoom-Zoom did not even know where to begin. He was aware, somewhat, that most of his problems with his room were, well, mainly in his head and not really substantive problems. Zoom-Zoom could not exactly put into words what was wrong with his room other than it was. But hey, he'd been given opportunity to talk and Zoom-Zoom and talking had this thing where he did it even when he shouldn't do it.

Zoom-Zoom gave an awkward laugh. "Uh, my room? It's uh. It has walls." Wow, that sounded dumb, even to him. "Walls and a ceiling and- it exists. With my name on it. It's enclosed. With no good hiding spots inside it. And I can't go anywhere else, because I can't leave this place without a partner, so I have to go back there. I don't like that. It's obvious. It's a space that's mine, that's what wrong with it. I don't- I don't like being found and it's a place that I can be found. I don't like it. It's predictable. And it's predictable because I've stopped and I can't handle being stationary or staying in one place for too long. "

The more Zoom-Zoom talked, the more he was aware just how insanely paranoid he sounded. He curled up, folding his knees , wrapping his arms around them and rested his head upon his knees. "I don't know what to do with it," he muttered sullenly. Idly, one servo drifted down and scratched at the top of his foot, displacing dust. "I just don't know what to do with things that belong to me. I don't like having them or needing them either. It's more stuff to lose and I got tired of that eons ago."

Well, this was weird. Going from smashing Prime's ceiling to having a spark to spark about how much he disliked everything about Prime's base and really didn’t want to be here.

[Optimus Prime]

While Zoom Zoom wasn't truly afraid? The motions made Optimus think as much, and that was what really counted and influenced his actions from that point on. So long as he believed it to be true? He would react accordingly. It is because of this he tried to keep calm, and not come off as aggressive or angry in any way. His stance was still formal, as was just the norm for his personality, but he was sitting down, which was unusual for him to do when addressing another since becoming Prime.

This unusual posture, made it so that he wasn't sure what to do with his hands fully. Normally they just held evenly at his sides, or folded loosely upon his lower spinal strut. Now? Sitting down? He couldn't do either of them really due to the disproportionally long limbs. This ended with them just plunked down at an odd angle at his sides, hands lightly curled over the edge of the slab with his elbows crooked back.

When Zoom Zoom tried to explain things?... it... really did start out like true nonsense. The issue was it had walls?... the Minibot couldn't be claustrophobic, they were JUST in the Maintenance Shafts which were horrendously small as far as Optimus was concerned. But then the issue was it excised?... What did that even mean? That was pure unfiltered... crazy? Was that an appropriate term?

The more that was said however, was starting to bring the overall picture into focus more and more. It was still blurry, but he could make out vague shapes and concepts that made things far more clear on why Zoom Zoom found need to retreat to such an area. It was apparent that he was not intending to spy, and was not working repairs, but was actually... retreating?

Optimus took in a slow vent, the exhale from it churning ever so slightly as the rest of the clog in the filters were finally cleared enough to not be felt any longer. After this he spoke cautiously, looking over at the Autobot. While he didn't say much in reply, the tone seemed to indicate he truly wanted the Minibot to think over his words and give him an earnest answer.

The Prime worked on a very simple system, and that was the fact he would trust any and all of his Autobots until they downright lied to him without just reason. If ZZ were to find need to decline his question and fabricate a reply? And it was revealed to be false? Than it would be some time before Optimus would be able to fully trust his words any longer, because in his opinion? This was a very important question that should not be beaten around.

"You do not feel safe at this outpost, correct?"

[Deleted]

Zoom-Zoom stopped and gave the question some thought. Well, yes, of course he didn't feel safe. There were Decepticons occupying the same sector of space, hell they were on the same planet as Zoom-Zoom. He'd been shot at by Megatron only a couple of weeks ago. As far as Zoom-Zoom was concerned, nothing was safe and wow, he really was starting to sound like Red Alert now.

The thing was, Zoom-Zoom didn't actually a proper idea of what qualified as safety anymore. His idea of the concept was so thoroughly scrambled that the notion had lost all familiarity. The best he probably could be happy with was a deep, dark labyrinth that he could wander about freely, enemies probably included. Zoom-Zoom had been on the move by himself for so long, forced to fend for himself and his survival, that the relative peace and security of the Omega base was tripping him up. The minibot could be comfortable here, if he just allowed himself to unwind a little but he kept half-expecting something terrible to happen (which had actually happened) so he didn't try.

But when it came down to it...

He blinked at Optimus. "Well yeah. Amongst other things. I mean, I don't expect to be safe ever. You can't fix that. I think my main problem is actually having space that belongs to me," Zoom-Zoom shrugged and gave an awkward laugh. "Which is crazy to be freaking out over but I don’t want it. Me and the universe, we have a pretty good deal going in that I don't own things so it doesn't take them away from me. I haven't been using my room all that much, if you must know. I normally find somewhere else to recharge."

[Optimus Prime]

It was rather saddening to find out that someone within this base generally didn’t feel secure enough to have a semblance of safely. Even the more unstable individuals? Those with demons hanging off of their shoulders? Had managed to find a way to get solace in some form or another. They had functioned and meshed into the outpost well enough to have a sanctuary that would be honored as THEIRS. No one would breach it; no one could challenge it, less they had to speak to Optimus himself. Most would get in trouble for doing so, except it seemed... when someone would drop into The Prime's own quarters.

Nonetheless, the point was? That everyone had this safety to return to. Yet it was this safety that brought nothing to the little red mech that sat not far from him. Zoom Zoom didn't seem to work on the same rules, or the same concepts. His gift of a room to call his own? Was a pointless offering that just brought more discomfort than good in the end it seemed.

It would take some creativity to work this one out.

"The purpose of personal quarters is to offer refuge. If it brings nothing but discomfort? Then you need not have it."

He would not say it was being taken away, he would not verbalize that. If Zoom Zoom wanted to keep it for now? Even as just a place of storage? That would be acceptable at this point and time. They had limited space, but not so much he would jump at the opportunity to seize the room to offer another. They weren’t doubling up yet, or scrounging that badly.

"However."

Optimus' attention raised once ore, breaking away from the Minibot. Cyan optics settled up on the opening, now actually getting a good look at it. The Maintenance Shaft was ripped down, taking that entire section away to leave two open vents of sorts on either side of the hole. The ceiling's actual surface was a bigger opening, the human artifacts from the original structures being what produced the powder.

"I cannot have you above others rooms. This breach of privacy, even if unintended, is not something I condone."

Looking back down at Zoom Zoom, Optimus' expression remained unchanged, trying to chew through this small puzzle of oddities.

"Is there a point you do return, that is not your own?"

Optimus was trying to be a bit roundabout in what he was asking. He wanted to know if Zoom Zoom had a point in this base that he technically did not own, but was beneficial to finding recharge in. A place he often hid in to feel secure. If he found out what it is? He'd just brush it off unless it was a poor choice of location. So long as it wasn't encroaching on others rooms? Or in a point that could be seen as dangerous? Or even compromising by being in an area he could have a meeting with his higher ups? Than Zoom Zoom could 'have' it... Yet not... since that'd make things worse? Optimus had no intention of 'stealing' an area from him unless it met any of the prior conditions.

Zoom Zoom was a weird little mech...

[Deleted]

Zoom-Zoom listened carefully as Prime formulated his response. He really hadn't been expecting the commander to be so...freakishly understanding about the hole the minibot had put in his ceiling. But hey, not having to return to his quarters when the base went dark? Score. It'd probably give Red Alert fits but Zoom-Zoom's room itself was giving the minibot fits.

The minibot hadn't caught that the room was still his. The thing was, Zoom-Zoom really didn't use it at all. He accumulated a very scarce amount of personal effects and never anything more than he could carry around in subspace. The minibot fully expected to be forced to abandon the base at any one moment. He'd learnt a long time ago that it wasn't often that he could double back and recover his possessions, so rather than be forced to leave stuff behind, he simply elected not to actually have anything. The room as a place of storage was useless to him.

"I cannot have you above others rooms. This breach of privacy, even if unintended, is not something I condone."

"I don't stay in the shafts," Zoom-Zoom felt the need to clarify (protest) this point. "Just use them for getting about is all." The minibot thought quickly for a moment. To the best of his knowledge, he hadn't recharged in the shafts above the personal quarters though he had used them elsewhere on base. But he wasn't going to bring this up. He'd overheard stuff he during those times he'd been tucked away in nooks and crannies that he probably shouldn't have been privy to, though Zoom-Zoom hadn't cared. The mech was a spook. Spying kinda was what he did though Zoom-Zoom didn't deliberately seek it out on one base against his own allies. It was a combination of his training and his own street smarts that made him idly collect information in case it could be useful down the line.

"Is there a point you do return, that is not your own?"

"Uuuuh? No? I generally keep things mixed up. Try not to recharge in the same place twice." Zoom-Zoom gave a helpless twitch all, sorry, this probably isn't the answer you wanted.

[Optimus Prime]

Optimus was accommodating when one of his Autobots truly were not happy, and he was more than willing to try to assist them in whatever way he could. If he was not understanding like this? If he did not put in his own time to make sure they were content? Than what right did he have to call for them to follow him into battle? They were basically putting their lives on the line for a cause he helped form so many years ago. The least he could do is attempt to assist.

Though this puzzle was not an easy fix.

Why couldn't Zoom Zoom have had a more standard issue? Why could he not have been having issues fitting in, or clashing with another Autobot? Why could he not have issue with the scaling of his room in accordance to his frame size, or the height of the keypad to enter the door. Why could the issue not be something with a clear cut solution? No... It had to be this mishmash of nonsense.

When Zoom Zoom commented upon the fact he does not recharge in the shafts, but simply uses them as a means for transportation? The Prime's attention drifted lazily up towards the ceiling once more, optics half lidded with a look of unamusement. He used this motion to punctuate his words, that fell out in an even monotone.

"-And look how well that has turned out..."

After this comment, optics flicked back down to peer at the Minibot, his helm remaining crooked up a moment after this before following down to angle towards the other.

"I am willing to work with you Zoom Zoom, but I need to have something to start from."

His words had been flat before, with that edge of understanding and a willingness to help. However? The longer this was dragging on? The more that warmth was ebbing away. He needed ZZ to give him something to work with, he couldn't just let the mech run free-for-all across the base as some kind of wall ghost that could be eavesdropping on everything. It would not only make he himself uncomfortable? But countless others as well.