[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Essential Foundations [Closed]

[Sundance]

Before she had made it a few steps to the benches she so desired, she was halted by the voice of her leader. She wanted her freedom and yet here she was still trapped. Sundance hung her head, finding it hard to even look in Optimus' direction and show the respect he did fairly warrant.

There was only so much retreating Sundance could do, only so much backing down but it had never been her best trait. At some point the mantra of the customer-comes-first broke down when fight or flight had been cornered. Suni was made for customer service and niceties, but her spark was that of a racer and a fighter. Her guilt and embarrassment was fast burning through impatience. Somewhere around Optimus’ big words, too big for Sundance's processor, and his command that the head of security would do some sort of psyche assessment, impatience clicked a notch into frustration.

The fact that one of the greatest cybertronians ever to be sparked was now also bearing down on her making the small femme feel like it was now 3 vs 1 just further fuelled her defensive instinct.

Sundance slow panned to face Optimus, and then her body followed the lead of her head. Defiance flared into her field and hardened, but did not diminish her shame still burning. In the tilt of her finials and the challenging smile on her face, there was the markings of aggression.

“You’re quite right, this isn't finished." In the hush of the room with the audience on edge, her usually playful voice demanded to be heard.

"So let’s collect that checkered flag, right here!" Sundance waved her arms out to encompass the whole room, "Right now!" And stamped one foot to accentuate.

"Those other phobias you just mentioned? Whoosh! Right over my head, and I'm already overclocked as it is. I know exactly what I have, an irrational fear of being trapped or bound. I’ve been this way since my original off the shelf components were first mated together. And yeah sometimes I'm claustrophobic too." Sundance shrugged, her tone softening a little as she continued. She was a flier, claustrophobia seemed to be an accepted part of having wings.

"Yes, drawing the guns was the wrong reaction, but really, what other option is there? Seriously, someone please tell me." She emphatically begged as she looked around the room meeting optics with her own. "I’ve been through this before, getting jumped by predator styled cassettes during room clearing ops, or heck, even hit with grapnel nets. My lack of heavy back plating is gosh darn obvious isn't it? If I slam a cassette, all hooked claws and teeth into a wall, or even the floor, the darn things just gonna fight harder, life or death, and send me to the medics berth again at the least. Tear them off my back? I like my plating intact. I know in that situation, I am caught! Reacting as I did has saved my aft more than once. Four million years, never shot a friend." She held up her hands, palms out in peace. There was no prize to be won here other than peaceful settlement. But she was feeling even less inclined now to join the audience. She would be happy to follow Red Alert out, though she did not wish to take him away.

[Optimus Prime]

((Permission gotten to skip Quillion))

Optimus' helm turned back to Sundance the second she started to contest and fight back with aggression, his optics slightly widened at what she was doing here. Her words were neither calculated nor done with consideration given who she was speaking to. They were filled with stubborn determination, a demand to it that said plainly that she wanted to take point and would not back down when given an out. Optimus did not mind a debate with an individual, he did not mind the idea of someone venting in stress or seeking compromise to make their views clear. He would always make time for his Autobots and understood well that some outbursts were bound to happen.

Yet, there was a very big difference when it was done in front of a crowd.

Insolence, no tact shown to respect his title and position within the War. Optimus did not rule with an iron fist and did not strike down others that may be hit by more aggressive leaders to keep them in line. He would never rule by fear, yet for all that he didn't want to be revered as Prime... as much as he may look back at the lost days of Orion and long for a simpler times when others didn’t see him as a borderline deity due to the Matrix... those days were dead and all he commanded was a very simple thing.

Respect.

Respect to hold back and not resort to outbursts. Respect to understand and contest at the appropriate time with care and a level minded approach. Don't make a scene and derail a mission, don’t lash out when in the middle of combat when every second truly counted. While this wasn't a life or death situation out on the field, Sundance was still planting her feet down, expecting the Prime of all people to back away and shy beneath an onslaught of confrontational words. Assuring that she was right and he was mistaken. That she wouldn’t have shot a friend! Yet threatened outright she likely would if Quillion had not retracted the cassette and called her back. Blamed the response on a phobia, only for said phobia to be irrelevant. Cried that lurch responses saved her hide, yet ignored the fact her lack of control nearly cost a teammate much.

The more Sundance tried to explain away her reaction, the more Optimus' expression shifted from that of mild confusion and surprise, to indignation and more tension being wound onto a strained line of tolerance with his Autobots. Many were pushing said line. Many were challenging, simply because they got away with it. He would NOT roll over like a wounded animal on the best of days, and he most certainly would never do so in front of witnesses that could get the idea that they could sway the Prime with stern words to lead events how THEY wanted it to be.

Optimus shifted then, his frame squaring off fully with Sundance. He had been tense but somewhat disengaged before, though now he was at a far more confrontational angle, mass towering above her smaller stature. Cyan optics bore down upon the other Cybertronian, the apertures shifting ever so slightly as the small lens plates neither flicked nor wavered to pass others a fleeting glance. His full attention was upon her, and only her.

"A feline hanging onto your back neither traps or binds. All of your limbs were still viable, and you could navigate with no hindrance."

She said so herself. "-fear of being trapped or bound." Yet, she could not seem to comprehend the difference between what she stated, and what had occurred. Ignorance, misunderstanding, a result of using a singular descriptor as a blanket term for multiple things. Lack of knowing was one thing, but shunning new information out of stubbornness was another.

"You are using a phobia to explain an overreaction that is not applicable to the situation, and negligence to recognize this shows your lack of understanding of how serious this is."

Optimus was not a particularly wordy individual. He typically spoke with direct and blunt comments, cutting to the root of what he wished to say with little waver or filler. This said, he was choosing to be more verbal this time around, to fully elaborate and make his stance that much clearer. To waver and have Sundance not grasp his statements because they were not apparent enough was no longer on the table.

"Stop fabricating excuses to validate your mistake."

He would continue, words direct and spoken with power behind them. The film of kindness and understanding, the want to offer her a slightly peaceful exit from the room... it had completely dissolved. Before the femme was the Prime, not Optimus, not Orion, not the kind individual that held a hand for understanding out to others to guide and help. He spoke as their leader, as the head of the entire army, his voice carrying well so that any and all that were present would hear it clear as day in the open room.

"Should you like your plating intact, then you should have not volunteered for a training exercise."

His helm rose, the top of his lip pulling up ever so slightly, the faintest of subtle twitches to pair with angled brows that spoke clearly of his displeasure at her actions this day.

"War will not pull punches, and coddling one's paint negates valuable lessons."

They would not put boxing gloves on. They would not have padded shin guards to kick with, or fake rubber balls to take the place of projectiles. Even a non-lethal geared spar would have pain and injury. There would be scrapes, tears, dents... Optimus warned Ratchet this would be the case, and it was deemed a necessity to hone the skills of others. Her cry to want her plating intact was one more bout of negligence and foolish ignorance to throw onto the table. Her outburst did not paint her as a powerful femme that wanted to stand her ground and show her perspective, it came across as a stubborn child that did not consider what exactly she was saying in front of others.

"Lessons that you have derailed."

A lighthearted exercise, tainted and sullied by this cross confrontation. Recovery would be difficult, following challenges stilted by the venomous energy of their words. Perhaps it could recover, perhaps the others would make efforts to put on a happier façade until the lighthearted want to learn settled into place once again... yet it was hard to say. All of his effort to set this up could simply be a day lost that he could have been doing more valuable things.

"Perhaps I was not clear enough... My instruction for evaluation was not an invitation for a later date, but a command to depart this exercise immediately."

The Prime's tone of voice became even more stern and direct. A harshness in place that showed he did not say this lightly. It was not a suggestion; it was not up for debate. There would likely be larger repercussions should Sundance not back down now. Optimus did not enjoy pulling such cards. He did not like slamming ultimatums, yet that was likely because he seldom had to do such a thing, so it did not settle into place and become 'normal' for him. Most followed his golden rule of respect, and lack thereof was alien and insulting on the best of days.

[Red Alert]

More often than he would like, Red Alert found himself standing and staring at the chaos surrounding him, convinced that things could not possibly get any stupider than they already were. Then, inevitably, they did, and Red Alert was left dumbfounded and wondering when the stars would next align and he would once again be waylaid by ever-increasing feats of jackassery.

He watched Optimus and Sundance go back and forth, his expression twisting with incredulity as the young femme tried to explain herself. He was entirely unconvinced by her defense, and judging by his response, so was Optimus. Honestly, Red Alert was a little surprised that the other mech was even entertaining the conversation to begin with - by rights, there was nothing to debate. They all saw what happened; it was inexcusable, regardless of context. Knowing why Sundance had responded the way she did was irrelevant; it didn't excuse her behavior, it only explained it, and even then Red Alert wasn't so sure he trusted the validity of the explanation.

Optimus had already pointed out the flaws in Sundance's story, laid them out and dissected them one by one much more thoroughly and civilly than Red Alert himself would have. There really wasn't much of anything left for anyone to say, supposing Sundance did the smart thing and took the opportunity she had been given to bow out without further argument. Judging by her behavior thus far, Red Alert genuinely wasn't sure whether she would keep trying to plead her case, or listen to the Prime and shove off with at least a little of her dignity still intact.

Not wanting to watch this training exorcise be derailed any further, Red Alert decided to step in and make the decision for her.

He took a step forward, casually lifted an arm so he could tap the back of his hand against Optimus' shoulder to let the taller mech know he was tagging in.

"You mind my having a go?"

It wasn't a question so much as a declaration of intent - hence Red Alert not waiting for the other mech to respond before forging on ahead and focusing in on Sundance.

"Right. He's just after telling you to shove off, so unless you're keen on a public dressing down, that's what we're gonnae do."

He nodded towards the door, silently prompting the young femme to get marching in that direction while he addressed the rest of the room.

He glanced from face to face, taking in each of the combatants-turned-spectators each in turn, so no one would be under the misconception that he wasn't talking to them specifically.

"If anyone else is prone to violent, hair-trigger stress reactions, now would be a good time to mention it."

[Deleted]

Skystone felt a little helpless at what was going on around her. She had dealt with life ending war-changing choices before, had been horribly outnumbered and outmaneuvered and kept her head. But it seemed even her own stoicism couldn’t contend with the deep unease that interpersonal conflict brought within her.

Maybe it was because she simply wasn’t used to it. In her cohort there wasn’t much arguing, simply getting the job done and trying to relax, and once war started she never was a part of a true troop...until now.

Her patience was wearing thin with the whole ordeal, admittedly. Her empathy only went so far and now this entire thing had become a hindrance on a goal and a strain on the morale of the room.

Both had valid points, but ultimately it was down to Optimus as the CO. This whole thing could have been ended minutes ago, if the exchanges would just end and action would be taken-but that wasn’t up to Skystone. All she could do was sit and watch this go down. Every party involved was high-emotion and potentially reactive. This would have to be navigated carefully.

Optimus’s dressing down would be enough to make her not want to show her face for a bit, she could only imagine how Sundance was feeling. However, one had to move on and go through life despite such things. No point having an ego in a life where you're just as likely to die tomorrow as any other time- in Skystone's jaded opinion, even their long lives were too short to sit and be worried over things such as who was right and wrong in disputes such as this. 

Red Alert’s addition was short, but his involvement of the other’s in the room was a little cavalier in her opinion, but also an interesting choice in terms of the effect it could have on Sundance. Maybe being reminded of others in the room would settle her. Rather than answering what she assumed was a rhetorical question she simply leveled Red Alert a bland, borderline bored look for a moment before shifting her gaze a little more apprehensively to Sundance, clearly seeing the femme’s want to explode with her opinion on this.

[Prowl]

This situation had gone to hell in a handbasket real quick.

Prowl had been hanging towards the edge of the room, eyes seeming absorbed in his datapad but behind his visor he had been watching the fight with great interest. Given what had happened, in a live combat scenario he would have wholeheartedly supported Sundance’s actions in drawing her weapon to get the cassette off of her. Though there were many ways it could have gone, truth be told.

However, this was not a live combat scenario. This was a training exercise, and to keep the situation from escalating further it was best to remove both parties for individual debriefing. Some old instinct of Prowl’s began to kick in, reminding him of bar fights over in the Dead End back before the war.

The former enforcer stepped off his place on the wall, transitioning his datapad from a two handed to a one handed grip in his left servo while the pointer and middle fingers on his right servo extended, the other appendages tucking themselves back and out of the way. Nestled in the tips of both his extended fingers was enough power to end most arguments before they got out of hand, but he did not spark the taser probes. He just wanted to be ready.

At Red Alert’s question, he met the optics of the Security Director and gave him a short nod. There was no problem on his end, and if this got out of hand, he could shut it down should the need arise.

[Quillion]

"If anyone else is prone to violent, hair-trigger stress reactions, now would be a good time to mention it."

Quillion turned his helm toward Red Alert, inclining the peak of his helm toward the Security Chief.  "No worries.  I prefer my violent reactions to be excessively premeditated and dramatic."

He ran his long, slender fingers down the plating at the back of Epee's head and regarded the rising tension between Sundance and the Prime.  Part of him wanted to stare in incredulity at her outrage and brazenness in defending her actions.   The other part of him, the part that was a teacher, knew that there were some people that, when faced with their faults or the consequences of those faults just dig in to defend themselves.  

Quillion set Epee down and turned his slender frame toward Sundance.  Epee, for her part, wanted no part of the filthy floor and climbed up Quillion's armor back to her perch on his shoulder.  No vulgar ground for her.  That was what Epee's claws were for -- climbing.  There would be no torn plating, no real damage that couldn't be easily buffed out.  They weren't big enough to inflict real damage, and he wagered Sundance could have shaken the cat off her back. 

Every excuse she made, every anecdote she shared was meaningless to Quillion.  He didn't care how brave and capable and true she apparently was in the past.  All he knew about her was that she almost shot his cat, and when pressed on it, did everything she could to avoid actually taking responsibility for that.

"How a person responds to their successes and victories can tell you a lot about them.  How they respond to a failure can tell you more.  But what I find most interesting is how they respond to a mistake.  An error.  A lapse in judgement."

 Quillion walked around Sundance, a measured, graceful step, optics taking in every millimeter of her -- her frame, her body language, her stance.  "Digging in and overexplaining how you had no choice, no alternative to excising a small, very light creature from your person but by shooting it off tells me that you're not a person given to improvisation.  Perhaps you don't adapt well.  You don't strike me as a very rigid person but if a panic trigger sets you to such a well-trained reflex, perhaps I should reassess."

He swept his optics around the room.  "Another time, though.  I'm rather not in the mood to spar anymore.  I'll take my leave and find some other industry to engage in."

Quillion gave a sweeping bow and turned on his heel, walking out the door with his cat on his shoulder.  The small feline watched Sundance as they disappeared around a corner, ear finials swiveled down.

[Sundance]

The more Optimus Prime spoke, the more she felt his every word was wrong, and the more her vexation came to the fore once again. Everything he said was a misunderstanding, and this misunderstanding quickly became insult. Her hands, now back at her sides clenched into fists. Her headwings were stiff and uptilted with frustration.

Intact plating was just the term she had thrown out, the cassette could have easily punctured major fuel lines in her neck, free to move was free to die in seconds but his armored aft just couldn't relate to that. Her overreaction, as he put it, had kept her alive more than once. She wasn't fabricating anything, she was speaking from her spark and experience. But more than all that, she was absolutely aware of how hard war was. After four million years of fighting and still ongoing, she had put her spark on the line possibly more times than others in the room. Possibly more than anyone else in the base.

She was a fragile flier in skies dominated by the air superiority of Decepticon seekers. The odds were against her more often than not. If a grounder got shot in the wheel, they just pulled over and sought cover. If she got shot in the wing, it was a ten thousand foot drop at four hundred miles per hour to her death. She had crashed a few times and was lucky to still be functional. Her wing mates hadn't always been. She was not reckless, she certainly was not fearless and she was absolutely no coward. She was courageous.

That's what her overwhelmed processor thought, and what she felt.

Sundance wanted to scream her defiance, she wanted to rail in protest against Optimus Prime's words and try to articulate what she meant. If it were any other mech standing before her, even Megatron, she might have done so. But it was Optimus Prime standing before her, lecturing her, insulting her, simply failing to understand her.

In her mind, he was supposed to be the best of all of them, he was certainly the best she had ever met. He had the astute intellect of a data clerk, he was a charismatic orator, he had a powerful frame, strong and tough and fast, he was brave and skilled. But mostly, mostly he was supposed to be wise, blessed with the Matrix of Leadership and all the wisdom and experience of all the Primes before. But he had misunderstood her. The wisest person she ever knew utterly failed to understand.

With a revelation as new insight coalesced into solid understanding, he had just become another mech, a desk jockey with a fancy locket, and she was just a slow-clocked bar-made with delusions of altitude.

Sundance's faith crumbled and her spark fractured as her view of reality skewed harshly. Her shoulders slumped and her optics fell to the floor. Clenched fists relaxed their grip on the old fantasy.

The moment she questioned her faith in the leadership, she questioned everything else. Her faith in the Autobot cause and in the rightness of her actions all collapsed. The suppressed guilt of all those she had victoriously killed in combat over the span of eons flooded through her. She felt so utterly lost, defeated and desolate. In all her millenia of life, no one had brought the challenger down quite like her own leader had just now.

She looked up at Optimus with sky blue optics devoid of strength and unable to fully meet his. "As you command sir." Her tone was flat and she could not bring herself to use his full title.

Before she could make more than a step towards the door, she was beaten to the decisive punch, and no less so than by the one she had maybe wronged the most. Though Quillion's words were not barbed, they still stung because she was empathic to the feelings of carrier and cassette. The guilt in her conscience grew more. Their elegant footfalls took their leave before she had the chance to apologize further.

As she approached the door herself to leave the room, her right hand came up to half Autobot sigil of her left forearm. For a brief moment, she wanted to rip it free and throw it to the ground in one last petulant fit of frustration, but as she looked back in the room and saw the others, her hand fell away. Skystone, Red Alert, Prowl and Laura.

She no longer had faith in the leadership, but she still held some remnant for her friends. Sundance then looked away from all those eyes and left the room with the weight of her spark heavier that it had ever been.

[Optimus Prime]

Perhaps Optimus may have been more open to the debate should it have been one on one and done with a far more level approach. Let Sundance elaborate, ask questions to make her think back over it all with a different viewpoint, and try to find an understanding between the two of them. However, all such kindness was thrown out of the window given the attitude presented and the situation overall. Later on they could discuss this incident, speak where she could be more honest and less bolstered by the fact others could be judging her every word. Aggression muffled potentially over the idea her friends and makeshift 'family' would not lay witness to her weaknesses... Yet that moment was not here at this time, and losses had to be cut before more came crashing down around them all.

The Prime had been so focused on Sundance after he finished his words, that he did not truly catch onto Red Alert's approach until he tapped the back of his hand against his shoulder. This touch caused cyan optics to break away and flick over, watching as the other mech approached Sundance to try to cut in before she could potentially dig her grave any deeper. He was grateful for this intervention, not wishing to have to take physical removal or walking her out on his own. Would he? Of course. Though this was better overall, for she needed to report to the red and white mech anyway.

Or rather, he expected her to.

More likely Red Alert would need to hunt her down, though that wasn't a concern in this moment. It was while the security mech maneuvered across the room that Quillion began to speak, Optimus' attention shifting over to the newcomer intently. Evaluating in a way, watching to see how he conducted himself... just as with Sundance, Optimus did not know beyond surface levels, and needed to get a better feel on personalities to know who may team up together well, or who would clash.

He spoke eloquently, with his own evaluations on the matter, words transitioning smoothly to a calm departure from the scenario overall. Optimus would watch the other mech and his feline until he fully vanished around the threshold to begin down the hall, before his attention once more shifted to a new target. This time he peered back at Sundance who looked as though she was almost locked and loaded to fire back, potentially restrained by discipline alone. It did not matter. What mattered was her eventual acceptance, and her subsequent departure.

The touch to the emblem was not lost on Optimus, though whether it was a means to ground herself, or a fleeting act of aggression and dismissal was unknown. He hoped it was the prior, trying to find solace and remember others who were important to fight for, while the latter would further enforce the budding idea that she was a soul guided by passion over logic.

Within a fleeting moment after this action, she vanished as well.

There was a brief thought of concern that formed then, wondering if Sundance would wish to pursue and confront Quillion outside in the halls, though this was set aside as he knew Red Alert would be on her heel and would hopefully dismantle any attempt before it forced the Prime's hand. This would be assured that much more should Prowl opt to follow as well. Whatever the case, any prior thoughts of a potentially recovering the gathering was promptly cast aside. There was no way to salvage this, and a call had to be made then.

"This exercise is terminated. A later attempt will be made. Resume prior assignments."

Abrupt, decisive, and with little hesitation or waver that could indicate a possible regret or uncertainty. There was no question now this was the path that must be taken given how awkward everything had become, and as such he embraced it fully and simply cut everyone loose. With this, Optimus' gaze would drift over the others. Should an individual hang behind to speak to him, it would be permitted, he would not glare if they approached, though it was apparent he seemed detached in a way, off put. This was to be expected however, due to the fact his day of effort had crashed and burned before it ever had a chance to show an inkling of beneficial results.