[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Can't keep going on like this [ Closed || Optimus / Miko ]

[Deleted]

     Timeline: Week 2 Day 5 ( subject to change )

---

     The Wrecker wasn't one who necessarily kept his cool, but when he felt his temper rise he was usually able to direct it to other projects. At the moment it was probably a good idea he had chosen to isolate himself in one of the storage rooms, away from the ground bridge, control room, and the others. Also, right now it probably wasn't a good idea to be handling anything explosive, even as much as his servos wanted to fidget. They were currently contained within themselves as he sat on one of the many crates off in the back, his frame still as he stared dangerously ahead at the empty space.

     Processing everything.
     Attempting to calm himself down.
     The latter was failing miserably. There was so much going on at once that it was driving him to a point he hadn't felt before and he was trying to sort out how to handle it.

     Wheeljack hadn't been invited along to assist with the search when Ratchet had first turned up missing, which was a little insulting. He suspected that this was a 'team prime' problem so it had been deemed as not being his concern. Still, a little heads up from someone- namely Bulkhead- would have been nice, rather than an after-the-fact overheard conversation. Still, word hadn't taken long to spread about the newest blow to the Autobot base, and Wheeljack had been foolish enough to not take it for the face value of how bad it actually was. He'd gone to find Doc himself, to throw in his little quips and make his joke about him being let go for being too grouchy to handle- and it was then that he had gotten metaphorical slap to the face. Who he had seen there- who had returned to base- was no longer Ratchet. The frame may have been there, but the spirit that the Wrecker had grown accustomed to and had so playfully nicknamed 'Sunshine' was missing. It had made him sick to the point that he had to leave. He'd seen those horrors before on Cybertron. He'd dealt with the shells of those who were no longer themselves.

     The memories brought a shudder to his frame and he doubled over slightly.

     What was the true icing on the cake was what came after. His curiosity got the better of him and he'd gone digging to see just what this MECH was all about. The Wrecker had been blindsided by the lack of action. The severity of the organization swept under the rug. They'd been allowed to work and no one had bothered to stop them. And their side hadn't been the only one to be impacted. A truce? To bring the two sides together, and for what? No one had done anything to put an end to them in that entire time. That wasn't the time to have a vacation, and that was pretty much what he determined had gone on.

     There were two in this base he felt an uncomfortable fear for which was only adding to his frustration. Miko was a human, fleshy and... squishy, so there were things that could hurt her that one of his species would otherwise be able to shrug off. Essentially, she was one of his, even if she was on Team Prime in the same way Bulk had opted to go. If anything happened to Bulk or Miko specifically under the Prime's leadership, he'd never forgive himself for not interfering. That was a weight on his shoulders he couldn't bare to have. At this point, he'd rather them be clear of this conflict entirely than to have their lives trusted in the hands of... 

     As the Wrecker sat there musing over his thoughts, left servo cupping his right, had been clenching them tighter in a vice hold until the strain was too much to take. Joints cracked, and as if the sound itself had caused his anger to finally snap like a twig, he lashed out in a single, violent display. A fist shot out and struck the wall to his side, embedding itself there and remaining until he finally took a breath and drew it back. The resulting damage from the impact had been strong enough to even show the groves and joints from each individual digit, leaving no question to what had caused it.

     Then he rose to his pedes and started on his way out of the room as he began his search. There was purpose in his strides, with set shoulders and an expression that had tuned out the world around him. The pointed gaze should have been more than enough to warn anyone who happened to cross his path to just mind themselves. Wheeljack was clearly on a warpath once he started moving, heavy footfalls making him sound impressively larger than he actually was. At this point even the impassable Bulkhead probably wouldn't be able to stop him. A Wrecker with a purpose was a force to be reckoned with on a good day- on a bad day? It was best to keep clear.

     Prime had drew his cards with a losing hand. His team consisted of mechs and femmes who had lived through this war relying on their skills to keep them alive and so far it had worked out for them. Now? Now there were questions that needed to be asked. When teammates started to drop off for one reason or another you had to look hard at the circumstances. One loss on a small team was a blow, but it was usually overlooked as a bad draw. Two was a little bit of a stab in the base of your backstrut that made one raise a brow at and usually got others talking. But three? You had to question the highest level in the immediate chain of command- the head honcho giving the orders. In this case, Optimus was a double whammy. Not only was he the Commander of this little band of merry Autobots, but he was also the ultimate figurehead as well. There was no one above him to question his actions, so it was left to the ones under him. So why wasn't anyone doing it? Why was this being looked at as a 'learning curve'? This was not a training session! These were lives that were being decided.

     The confrontation came after he finally found the Prime. A loud thud and the sound of cement and metal shattering and breaking then hitting the floor resonated within the room. There was nothing said right away, as if the brief time lapse would allow him a chance to formulate words instead of just jumbled, angry sounds. 

     "Are you satisfied yet?" Wheeljack finally blurted out after coming to his senses enough to recognized he'd been just standing there with his servo clenched to the doorframe, which was probably the only thing his subconscious mind could do to keep him from advancing. He was angry, not stupid, and his processor knew that even if his spark and frame felt otherwise. As much as he would have loved to settle this going toe to toe with the Autobot leader, the Wrecker knew the career suicide that would come if he allowed his fists to do the talking. That didn't mean that deep down he knew how much Optimus Prime deserved a good snap to reality in the form of good old-fashioned five digit justice. 

     "How many more of your troops- no, of your team- are you going to risk testing how long you can push this passive agenda scrap you've been spewing?" Disgust was laced in with those words, making the frigid way they were spoken even more cold. While he may have been able to keep his pedes planted right where he stood, his mouth was a different story, and that was more than free to spew what it wanted to without a filter to keep himself civil. Still, he'd give Optimus time to answer, to defend himself- even if he did just want to pour out everything that he wanted to say in this state of ready and revving to go. That was almost more than Wheeljack even felt that he deserved with everything that was going on.

[Optimus Prime]

Optimus was looking so very hard into ways to help his oldest friend since he had lost his memories. While he could not assist directly with the medical side of things, as that had, unfortunately, been solely put onto Patch's shoulders in a way that should never have happened... but he could look into trying to make contact with other bases. Scattered to the stars, many old outposts within the recorded logs were overrun or simply no more as its inhabitants re-located or were destroyed under a Decepticon attack or nature alone. Yet, an attempt had to be made, a potential to get ahold of someone, anyone, that may be able to help.

He wasn’t expecting hands on aid... no... they were too distant from Omega One to facilitate such a thing. Yet, verbal advice could go far, perhaps having ideas or recommendations that could point Patch in a direction that she may not have considered previously to restore Ratchet.

It was a hope and dream. A wild thrash, grasping at straws. Optimus knew he could not spend forever on this, but he had already dedicated a reasonable amount of time to it with the hope that something would assist them. It was here that he sat at the desk in the makeshift office area of his room. A small area where he could speak with other officers or commanders, to talk tactics without others listening in, or try to help others one on one. The Prime's actual sleeping area was off to the side, closed off and out of sight to give some small space to call his own. While the office was more of a group thing in a way, it did not mean however that it was pleasant when another burst in unannounced.

Optimus' helm snapped up when his door was rammed aside violently.

Oh.

The Prime said nothing as Wheeljack stood within the doorframe. Gaze neutral. A flat look that spoke plainly of how unamused he was at this. He knew what was coming after the lull, he knew that there was a fuse slowly burning in front of him to a combustion, and that there was simply nothing that could be done except wait for the inevitable. To cut in early, to stand and demand the Wrecker make himself scarce and leave him to his work? Well, it would end with nothing but triggering the bomb early and burning himself in the process. Patience was the only way here, and so, he waited until words finally found the other Cybertronian. Only then after Wheeljack spoke, did Optimus utter his first words.

"In case you have not been around-"

A dry reply, empty and unamused.

"-We have been burdened by many incidents that inhibited action."

Placing his hands upon the edge of his desk, Optimus pushed himself into a stand, his chair making a grating sound as it slid across the rough concrete flooring, moving just far enough to clear space for his legs. Once upright, his helm would raise, looking upon Wheeljack intently, cyan eyes not wavering once from the other Cybertronian's own. He did not show weakness on the worst of days, and he certainly would not today in front of such a careless Wrecker, his words continuing.

"An unknown disease we have yet to source a root of-"

They all had an idea it came from Bumblebee, but from where it was initially sourced with its unknown incubation time was seemingly impossible. It was oh so very easy to blame it on the Decepticons, it would be EXPECTED to be traced back to them. However, given the presence of one plague ship already on this world that had nearly killed him, it very well could have been a lingering disease from something else unrelated. An artifact from many eons previous. A disease with still unknown long term effects.

Stepping aside, Optimus began to move around his desk as his words continued to flow, his stride steady.

"-Injuries from Haven's fall-"

Still his back hurt, and others needed medical aid as well and were not equipped for an assault of any kind right after. Most that were not buried alive were part of the team trying to dig them out, a laborious effort.

His pace continued, hooking around the desk to face Wheeljack.

"-An influx of new arrivals that spur conflict and infighting-"

From Sundance's outburst that sent ripples through others and may have tarnished morale, to Carbine assaulting a Decepticon who was trying to turn down a new path in life, and everything in between.

Steady, gradual footfalls thrummed against the ground, approaching to clear some of the distance between them.

"-Others venturing on their own to become easy prey with careless disregard. Just to name a few."

As mournful as Optimus was over Ratchet, it did not make the other Cybertronian immune to scrutiny for being so incredibly reckless. A recklessness that ended with taking nearly everything from him but his spark.

Stopping a conversational distance away, the Prime settled into place, his expression remained mostly neutral with an edge of irritation and ire lurking beneath furrowed brows. So many frayed nerves, so much stress and frustration... it added up, and this incident right here was another stone trying to trip him. This alone is why he was taking on a more aggressively verbal and less patient approach, his following words slipping into a colder, angrier edge. He was not particularly in the mood for listening to a Wrecker's cried outburst of wanting to run in, guns blazing. Should all MECH facilities be armed the same? Any brute force tactic would be useless.

"So, tell me Wheeljack, at what point would sending ununified soldiers into hack and slash combat produce results beyond injury and failure upon the level of the Wasatch Facility?"

[Deleted]

      "You should have taken action when the first problem came up instead of hiding it away and hoping it would just disappear on its own. Problems tend to stockpile themselves and blow once a spark is lit if someone don't know how to diffuse the bomb fast enough."

     The Wrecker had expected the Prime to begin listing off all of the terrible life situations that had been going on. He'd read about them since no one bothered to send him a comm to inform him of what in the shaded regions of Unicron's rusted rump had been happening. He'd been off sourcing on his own and collecting information where he could. Never had he expected a source of issue to be coming from the base itself. Excuses- that's how he saw them. Each new factor the Prime listed off was just another blanket he tried to cover up his shortcomings with, and that made for excuses that he just wasn't about to deal with. Sure, things had happened but that was just the way it rolled. Wheeljack wasn't one for excuses. He was about action. Solutions. Right now Optimus didn't seem able to provide either of those. Just his Pitfall tally he seemed so focused on.    
 
     The more things Optimus mentioned like he was marking off a little checklist, the more Wheeljack's servo tightened on the doorframe. Primus, was he lucky that it was there to stop him from just full on swinging right for the blue and red mech who made his way towards him. If he was attempting to be a menace and put the Wrecker in his place somehow by towering over him it would be a very difficult task. Wheeljack's attitude alone was enough to encompass the base tenfold. He hoped Optimus Prime wasn't so half-witted to think that would be enough to make him buckle and fall into line like a good soldier. 

     He'd head butted bigger mechs in the ball bearings. Optimus was a small fry in comparison. It was time to send him down a couple of pegs before he got his plumage all bristled out.

     "I handed you a potential GAME CHANGER with the information on the laser core process. Straight from Shockwave's lab. This whole thing could have ended on Cybertron if you had just taken what I gave you and ran with it- then none of the stuff you're complaining about now would be happening right now. Who knows where we'd be now, but at least we'd be able to recover instead of leaving bodies behind to tell the tale."

     "The discontent of your soldiers is a reflection of the failure in Leadership," he pointed out quite blatantly. No matter now much people spouted that they had respect for the Prime and would walk through fire for him, the fact that there was infighting and clashes and everyone going off on their own for fun time adventures showed the opposite. "If they don't get themselves in line and bite the bullet to work together, that means they don't share a common goal. Or at least their leader hasn't told them what the black and white endgame is. There's being cordial and respectful of your team, and then there's being soft. Clearly you're not engaging the team as much as you should. If you're having problems sorting your own scrap out, either share the problems with the team as a whole and come to a conclusion with it, or get yourself over it. You don't know when to put your foot down. Maybe then they'd respect your words a bit more. I can see why having someone like you in charge could be doing more harm than good."

     Wheeljack had been the leader of the Wreckers for a long time- sure, they had their issues between teammates now and then but they eventually resolved their issues because there was always a goal to be achieved. They all worked as a single cohesive unit, even if they didn't always see the same light in their optics. Everyone gave their all with the understanding they may not come back from it, and even the most clashed personalities mourned when their prime adversary didn't come home. That was respect on a level he wasn't sure Optimus had been able to achieve within the team yet.

     "This is a war, Prime. Not a popularity contest. Not sure if you figured that out yet, but ya damn well better before you end up with more of your team dead... or worse." It wouldn't take a scientist to figure out that Wheeljack's implication was addressed towards Ratchet's condition. To him, that seemed far more grave to him than just dying. At least there was closure for something like that. With the way old Sunshine was now? It was like the medic they all knew had died and only this hollow functioning shell was returned to them. Ratchet was dead but... not. It was a terrible spot to be in.

     "So what was the point of the Truce? Did you prop up your feet and enjoy the fact the Decepticons weren't shooting you in the face the moment you stuck your head out the front door?" Truces were fickle little things that didn't make sense to have if the parties weren't using them to their advantage. Optimus had a chance to double the firepower and have two teams go in to take out a common adversary- or at least to the extent in which a Decepticon could be trusted which was hardly as far as he could throw 'em. 

     "You had an opportunity to double the effort against MECH and you blew it. I swear, I've seen some pea brained leaders in my time but this? This failure takes the cake. Pits be damned, I don't even think Shoulderpads would have fragged up this bad." Wow, that was visibly painful to say and his lip curled in slight disgust that the words had even come from him. He was still bitter over Ultra Magnus being put in charge and changing everything the Wreckers were about, so when even he had to give him any kind of good credit no matter how minute it was a clear sign that yes, the Undergrid was definitely dead and frozen over.

     His free servo clenched, then eased. He'd be a fool to throw a punch right now, but damn did he want to. Instead he just stood there with that fire burning in his optics and hoping that Optimus was somewhat thankful that he couldn't just make the taller mech spontaneously combust with a glare alone.

     "From the start I knew you weren't Leadership material. You have no idea how much I wanted to be proven wrong.""If Bulkhead weren't so stubborn I'd load him and Miko up on the Jackhammer and blow this half sparked dream land of yours before they end up being screwed, too."

[Optimus Prime]

Wheeljack seemed to like to speak as if his propositions were easy and valid in all scenarios. Taking action the moment a problem came up? That sure was an idealistic yet foolish perspective that did not apply to MECH, given they did not know where they were. It didn't apply to a disease they did not know about until it was already too late. It did not apply to saving Ratchet for they had acted with haste to retrieve him as fast as possible... The only thing he could accept and agree with to an extent was the profound lack of him cutting others down when they stepped out of line and started to cause problems. He wanted individuals to find equilibrium and balance, to learn about one another and grow... but if they wanted to be treated as pawns that had to cooperate, even if they did not know the other soldier at the cost of reprimand and possible punishment...?

It was then Wheeljack reached into the past.

A sneer pulled up at the corner of Optimus' lip when the Laser Core Process was thrown in his face, his brows furrowing down to accent his obvious displeasure that much further. There was a reason he launched the All-Spark into the cold reaches of space, and there was a reason he did not do anything with the intel Wheeljack had acquired. Intel that had not been a sanctioned mission from the onset, and was merely another example on a countless list of the Wreckers’ rampant flailing and psychotic disregard for consequences.

There was an expectation then that a gap in the conversation would be offered, that some kind of lull would flick through so that Optimus could formulate a response to the accusations. Only, such a thing did not happen. One after another, each passing second was punctuated with verbal assault and degrading commentary about his 'failure' as a commander. How he did not do what was needed to get ahead, and how the base's condition was a symptom of its leader rotting away. A thrashing frame without a processor to guide. The one-sided discussion, if it could even be called that, then twisted into snarled references to the current events on Earth once more, and not just those that lingered in the past.

Optimus knew when he had failed. He did not pretend to shroud others and spin things completely as a victory. Tripping and stumbling was expected over countless millennia, and while every fall had its silver lining, a lesson to be learned and taken to following events, such things stung, no matter how mundane. Poor choices, the wrong piece moved in a game of wartime chess with lives on the line... it was only by the grace of Primus more death hadn't befallen them here on Earth from the mistakes that had been made. Events in the far past had not been so lucky, leading to entire teams being obliterated into ragged shrapnel and rusting husks.

But then, it was one thing to threaten to try to take Bulkhead... the mech a free individual to make his own choices in life. It was another to say he was going to take Miko, separating a child from her family, from her LIFE. While the young girl would undoubtedly jump to the call and crave adventure across the planet and possibly the stars, it was simply not an option and was that much more pressure added upon a brittle branch that was trying to uphold thinned patience during these trying times.

When Wheeljack finally seemed to stop and come up for a ventilation, his words teetering to silence, Optimus' gaze flicked across his features. He was waiting a moment to make certain that the other mech had actually finished with his tirade, wondering if he was trying to reload the metaphorical shotgun to come at him again with a new assault of acidic word vomit. When it seemed he was finally letting him utter a reply, Optimus' helm rose a small amount, his words cool and eerily calm.

"Are you done?"

This was a rhetorical question, for he did not wait even a second before he continued.

"Perhaps I have neglected the fact that Wreckers only seem to respond to brute force and wild disregard to consequences."

The calmness continued, Optimus' shoulders shrugging gently along with the statement, while his eyes seemed to roll with a subtle crook of the helm. It was an act of animation that was unfamiliar, foreign, and borderline alien to his frame, breaking the rigid mold that he tended to fall into. There was no carefully curated and collected statement to disarm the situation, no speech of his own to verbally lash back and list out all the lines Wheeljack had crossed... no. He was abundantly unimpressed with both what had been said, and the boiled down law that the Wreckers seemed to live by.

"You wish for me to put my foot down?"

A hollowness slipped into the casual words, his frame crooking forward as if he intended to get in Wheeljack's face and snarl out an angry command or verbal thrashing eye to eye. The apertures within his optics twitched and flicked slightly, luminous lens plates contracted into a fierce look.

"Very well."

Sharply, Optimus' battle mask slammed out and ratcheted together with a snap.

Wheeljack would get exactly what he was hoping for, except it perhaps manifested itself in a way he had not planned.

With a harshly violent and sudden movement, The Prime's right hand would slam down and grab hold of the front of Wheeljack's collar armor right above where the Autobot emblem was with enough force and weight behind it that it could possibly dip his frame from the impact. The grip was absolute and firm, fingertips creaking softly from the force that bordered on the edge of trying to dish out legitimate damage beneath it. There was nary a second offered once this connection was made, no hesitation, no flickered consideration of 'perhaps I should not...', before Optimus let out a low snarl of anger and wrenched his frame away.

While planning to take Wheeljack with him.

Should everything go according to plan, The Prime would use the gift of his raw strength to haul Wheeljack up and off his peds, only to overhead swing him around with a grunted heave. His arm would be fully extended in the action, aiming for a long and high arc that could scrape the other mech's feet onto the panel patched ceiling. On the downswing, he would pointedly aim to slam Wheeljack's chest down into the table he had been seated at just a few fleeting minutes prior. This could be seen as horrifically brutal to an already violent action, but logic snaked its way into the chaos, not wanting the other individual's helm to hit a solid surface such as the floor and cause any potentially permanent damage.

The Prime's grip would remain in place unless something went astray.

((Permission gotten to grab Wheeljack))

[Miko Nakadai]

Wheeljack being back at Omega Base was something that Miko always looked forward to. Wanting nothing more than to hear about his travels and adventures, any butts he might’ve kicked while drifting around the universe. It was always good to have the three of them in the same place at the same time!

Except… timing had been an issue.

She knew he’d visited a few times over the past few weeks, yet something had always come up like homework (ugh) or he was busy doing other stuff (uggggh) and they hadn’t had a chance to catch up - and it wasn’t fair! What with everything going on here lately with Ratchet being captured by MECH a couple of days ago, everything was weirdly tense - though understandably so.

So when she found out that Wheeljack had stopped by again? She made it her mission to find him so she could finally hear about what he’d been up to lately! The distraction of having someone fun around would be for the best, and she really missed him!

Sticking to the catwalks - which was a rarity in itself - she had made her way around the upper areas of Omega, trying to find the other Wrecker. Rec Room? Nope. Controoool Room? Nada. Medical Bay? Well, she exactly couldn’t go in there to check, but something told her that Wheeljack wouldn’t be in there anyway.

Bulkhead’s room? Duh! She should’ve checked there first!

Still moving along the catwalks, opting to be on her best behavior given the tension of everyone lately, she would make her way down the corridor that led to the majority of the Autobot’s quarters...

...Just in time to see Wheeljack ramming Optimus’ door aside - and violently at that. Even though she was a frequent guest of Omega, and was used to Cybertronians and their movements, the sight of Wheeljack being so… angry… was scary and loud, and the noise made her flinch, covering her ears.

What had Optimus done to make him so mad?

She hadn’t been spotted, and so would move carefully and quietly, easing up onto the tiptoes of her combat boots as she crept along the metal walkway until the only options were to turn back or climb down the ladder.

Obviously, she had to climb down.

Just as carefully, and making sure to be as quiet as possible, she would make her way down the ladder. Normally she made a point of jumping from a few rungs up - safety be damned! - but as that would make too much noise? She disembarked properly.

Bulkhead would be so proud!

Sidling along the wall, she would stop a few steps from Optimus’ doorway. Resisting the urge to peek in for fear of being seen, she would simply stand and listen - holding her breath on the tiny off chance they could somehow hear her breathing.

Brown eyes widened at what Wheeljack was saying, she- almost couldn’t believe it, in a way. While she didn’t understand some of his words, it… it was clear that the other Wrecker was so, so very angry with Optimus, and had been holding onto this anger for a long, long time.

Yet, Optimus let him speak. There were no interjections, no commands or orders telling him to shut up.

Then she heard her name.

She froze, both palms back against the cold concrete of the wall. A long, slow exhale escaped her as she tried to calm her nerves. She could feel her heart pounding at what felt like a million miles a second.

What was Wheeljack doing?

She knew Optimus, and knew that any response from the Prime would be calm, trying to relieve some of the tension in the room, trying to make Wheeljack see reason with an explanation - that’s how he always seemed to handle things. She’d never seen him angry, or mad enough to raise his voice.

And today seemed no different.

As Optimus began speaking, Miko would refrain from moving - though she was ready to bolt at the sound of any approaching footfalls, not wanting to get caught listening in on whatever this was. His words did not click at first, she did not take them as a warning - probably not helped by the fact she couldn’t see what was going on.

A metal whir, a snap - heavy movements that sounded like fighting, a snarled growl.

What was going on in there?

Deciding it was probably smart to stay where she was for the moment, she would continue to listen from the safety of the wall.

[Deleted]

      First there was the snarl that made him quick a brow. Then there was the motion of the servo towards him that kicked him into attention so he could brace himself for a blow. Any hopes of this just being a screaming match between two mechs had been ruined by Optimus's suddenly physical action. Maybe not exactly laid out the way the Wrecker had been hoping, but it was at least something. 

     This was the second time in the past week that he had been left with his helm facing down this week, and he was highly tired of it already. As much as he was down for a brawl on any given day, this whole treating him like a sideways helicopter propeller was getting old. He had been more expecting Optimus to throw a punch or flip an unsuspecting inanimate object, but this was a little more out of left field for him. His pedes were much better when placed firmly on a flat surface; as long as you didn't count when he was on the Jackhammer and then he was all down for flying the friendly skies.

     So here he was with the world upside down with the metal plates of his pedes making an ungodly high pitched screeching sound as they scraped along whatever the ceiling was made out of. He didn't have time to comment about the ringing in his audials before he came crashing back down to Earth once more.

     There was the sound of a crack when he made contact with the table. Whether it was from him or the piece of furniture would have to wait to be determined, since now he was dealing with an oversized mech who was far too big for his britches. To be fair, so was Wheeljack in the best of times which made the situation unfolding right now not one that anyone with any sliver of logic would be advising. Yet, here they were-The Leader of the Autobots vs one of the original founders of the Wreckers- going pede to pede with one another. How far it would go would be dictated by Optimus, since clearly Wheeljack wasn't one to ever walk away from a good old brawl. Especially if it was one that was a long time coming.

     Wheeljack had tussled with far more brute force than this in his heyday so this was nothing. He'd been hit square in the face with a sorry excuse for a wrecking ball before.

     There was a limit to what he could do at this point in this position. He knew the other mech's arm was longer than his so with it outstretched there was no reaching his face for a counter punch or a classic headbutt. He had access to his swords, but even he knew that a well placed strike could damage something important should the Prime expectedly move in a direction Wheeljack couldn't forsee. Assassinations probably were severely looked down upon on Team Prime, so that option was quickly tossed out the window. There was always the option of twisting his frame around and elbowing the Prime's arm away from him, but where was the fun in that? It was like slapping a hand away with a stern 'no', which was hardly his style. No, that lacked the dirt. So did patiently waiting for the 'perfect' strike.

     "Wouldn't really call this 'putting your foot down' unless you're aiming to slam dunk me into submission. Which, this rather compromising position may bring a lot of questions to your crew if someone were to walk in on us." He gave a snort as he shifted his servos beneath him and curled his digits inward to grip the lip of the table. "Allow me to rectify the situation."

     The Wrecker didn't wait to see if Optimus would ease his hold in embarrassment of just what sort of compromising position they'd found themselves in to make his move. He pressed all of his weight into his chest to use the table as his balance beam as he heaved both his pedes off the ground, bent at the knees, then hurled them out towards wherever in the Prime's lower extremities he could get to. He hoped to hit a nerve cluster hard enough to send him wheeling back or at least to get him to let go of his collar panel long enough that he could twist around and give him a much more strategically placed hit. 

[Optimus Prime]

At this point, Optimus did not care if others saw him attacking Wheeljack. Given the mech's history of constantly dancing the edge of what was acceptable, while holding no filter in expressing how he REALLY felt even if it was completely out of line? Well, it would be understood that he likely pushed his luck just that one step too far to enact such an action. Even if they did not know these facts however, and did not know the Wrecker's reputation as a team overall, it was generally known that Optimus' patience was high, and as such something must have gone truly astray for this situation to manifest itself on this level.

The bottom line was the fact that Wheeljack's bait to try to make him feel bad about overhand slamming him into the desk did absolutely nothing to dissuade his actions, and the following taunt was ignored. While the other mech may thrive off banter, Optimus gave no validation of any sort of visual or verbal response.

Overall, he felt justified for all of this, and was focused upon the task. The voice within his mind that would ordinarily tell him to ease back and be cautious, was now quelled into silence beneath a snarled growl of indignation that hummed over it all. Every single affront since his arrival to Earth came crashing back into him, reminding him how others no longer respected him for his title and rank. They did not care about all that he had done and sacrificed to try to keep them alive. He was of course not perfect, but he was doing what he could and that seemed to no longer matter.

It felt almost as if he was a freshly promoted officer, one who had never been acquainted with the team in any way, an individual whose name had never been uttered beyond muddled battle reports the majority did not even pass a glance to.

Optimus did not know what it was about Earth that attracted rot and disease, rusted husks of soldiers that held nothing but rebellion and self-centered greed for their own gain... but he was DONE harboring it. Even if he had to swallow the image he upheld of himself, everything he had tried to accomplish to project compassion, understanding, and a want to relate... Doing everything in his power to never even slightly skirt the edge of Megatron’s way of ruling... It was going nowhere among a gaggle of immature and ignorant fools. His attempts to find balance? Worthless. The lack of consequences doing much to promote and nurture noxious seeds that had been waiting to emerge.

Wheeljack was simply the last straw.

Cyan optics watched as the Wrecker shifted and gripped the edge of the table, Optimus' frame going rigid to stand ready to react to whatever came next. It was only a fleeting moment later, however, that Wheeljack was already flowing into motion, a swiftness behind the action that landed with a pointed impact to his knee with the other mech's body weight behind it. The strike caused Optimus to sharp dip; weight thrown onto his left leg while his right pulled back to try to lessen the impact, even if it was minimal gain. It stung a good deal, but the Prime wasn't one to let mere pain hinder him once he was locked into a combative mindset, nor let said pain be shown openly, and as such his grasp remained true, and he quickly moved into a counterattack.

Which consisted of his right shin suddenly slashing forward.

The fact Wheeljack had struck his leg and forced it out of line may have initially seemed like a good foundation to throw him off his feet entirely, however, Optimus transitioned and used it to his advantage. The lack of needing to pull his leg back, meant that his following actions would not be projected as much as if he were only beginning to do so right then and there. All that occurred to clue in to what was happening was the fact that Optimus hadn’t put his weight back on his right leg, the limb crooking further as his hip pivoted out slightly, and then the fact he tried to drag Wheeljack back out more in front of him with his locked grip.

Should this work out as intended, the Prime’s upper torso would wrench harshly to add force behind his movement, his leg hooking around in a near horizontal strike in the process. This hacking motion was aimed at Wheeljack’s side, Optimus planning on letting go at the last moment before impact to try to ensure it would make contact, and so that it may potentially throw the mech back down to the floor.

[Miko Nakadai]

Ah, yep - yep they were definitely fighting in there.

But why?

Wheeljack’s words alone were enough evidence that something was really wrong here. To barge into Optimus’ room so suddenly? It’d been something that he’d probably been dwelling on for a while until it’d bubbled over into an explosion of anger.

Things had been so tense ever since Ratchet had come back, but for the most part Miko had been kept out of all of it. Bulkhead did well to distract her, letting her get away with things that she probably wouldn’t have prior to all of this. Nothing huge, of course, she did not want to push her luck, but the atmosphere of Omega Base had changed.

And she didn’t like it.

She understood that the Autobots were at war with the Decepticons, even if the scale of that war was something she couldn’t quite comprehend in full. Throw MECH into that mix along with the fact they’d basically lost Ratchet and it seemed the odds were against them - so it was no wonder everyone was acting a little off.

Then again, she could only go on what she saw - and between school and detention and hanging out with Bulkhead? That wasn’t much, but it certainly didn’t take a genius to work out things were different.

She was worried, though - would things become too unsafe for her to hang out here with the Autobots? Wheeljack’s words about taking her and Bulkhead on the Jackhammer scared her, namely the part where they would be screwed if he didn’t.

She did not have time to dwell on what was meant by that, as an horrific ear-piercing screeching sound rang out from the room, causing Miko to slam both hands onto her ears as curiosity finally got the better of her.

Peeking around the broken door, Miko would look to see what was going on...

...Just in time to see Optimus slam Wheeljack down onto the table.

Gasping - a sound that was no doubt easily drowned out by the crashing of metal - she would hold a hand over her mouth as she stepped further into the doorframe, brown eyes wide as Wheeljack retaliated with a hefty kick. Should one of them look over, she was certain they would see her - but she had a feeling both of them were a little preoccupied right now.

What should she do? Should she go get someone to break them up? Who could even stop this? Was this one of those fights that needed to play out? Normally a fight like this would’ve been AMAZING to watch, and she’d probably have picked a side and cheered them on! But the close confines of the room, the fact it was two people she trusted more than anything - who were on the same side - had her nervous.

Watching as Optimus went in for another attack, she lowered her arms and rushed in another few steps almost as if she could do something to stop this - before immediately faltering as she realized that this was really, really unsafe - even for her.

[Deleted]

     Wheeljack hadn't survived this long through various battled of uneven odds and power struggles by not having an idea of what he was doing. He knew even before this conflict started that he was outmatched in strength alone, as he usually was in physical confrontations but that hadn't swayed him.  Sure, Optimus Prime was lightyears away from anyone who wasn't Megatron when it came down to brute force. The Prime probably could even make short work of Ultra Magnus if those two ever got into it, or even Bulkhead for that matter. That sorry excuse for a wrecking ball would end up with his head put through a wall with the entire team trying to wedge him out of it. This was a fight that had been bubbling just under the surface that required the perfect time to erupt. With the hairline aggressive trigger Wheeljack had and the tightly wound wire Optimus Prime had become over the past several months, this had all just been a matter of time. Now that time had come. All hope of them being civilized and logical had been thrown out the window. Words were no longer good enough. Optimus had opted for action, and Wheeljack had all of responded accordingly. Seemed the Prime needed this just as much as the old Wrecker did.

     He'd been created as an Engineer who was to be safely tucked away in a tower somewhere away from the real world outside, working alongside the greatest minds of their time even before the age of Iacon. He was never supposed to stray away from the path that had been laid out for him but he defied even his own Creators to become that of which he was never actually intended to be- a fighter. A soldier. Again, probably stupid given his short fuse that often was reflected by the insanely short ones on all of his grenades. So in the grand scheme of things, what did that mean for a mech like Wheeljack? One who was rather stocky in stature, with his main claim to fame being his knack for making things go boom and turning Vehicons into fine pieces of sliced scrap metal? Well, that was simple really. It meant that this was completely stupid.

     It was about to get even more stupid.

     There came the sound of metal striking against metal as the Wrecker's battle mask snapped firmly into place.

     Wheeljack was turned as so he could see the body movement of Optimus, reading this as not being a good thing since his own pedes were clear from the ground and hence throwing him from his center of balance. He released his hold on the table almost immediately at the pull once he saw the massive leg swinging out in his direction. The trajectory indicated a hit to non vital organs, probably in a counter strike to show him just how to properly land a kick. He braced himself the best he could and raised his arm on that same side up to both avoid it from being hit and to reach just over his shoulder, digits enclosing around the hilt of one of his swords as he began to pull.

     When contact was made with his side, Wheeljack angled himself into it at waist and brought his arm down, sword now in his servo, to hook it around that connecting leg and hold on to avoid himself from behing kicked across the room. The long leg of the Prime worked in Wheeljack's favor, as the extension allowed the sword to clear under it without the frame of the mech interfering with the motion. As such, the sword would end up directly under his knee joint and the Wrecker would press it against it in hopes of touching exposed nerves or other sensitive nodes that may lay just within that delicate, exposed little joint as he firmly moved to trap Optimus's leg between his torso and upper arm.

     While he'd stopped himself from being kicked across the room, his movements weren't entirely stopped. His lower half was sent jerking in the direction the sidekick had intended to send him, which in turn sent his pedes squealing across the floor to the distance the length of his legs would go before he could pull them back to steady himself again much in the way someone who's midsection impacted a horizontal tree trunk at full speed would have gone through. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world according to Wheeljack's internal HUD which indicated that a few nerves were less than pleased with him, sure to remind him of this moment later once things had calmed down. It was a good thing he were not a smaller waisted frame type or else he probably would have been snapped in half just from the impact. The aches he could deal with. Severance of his lower extremities? Not so much.

     Wheeljack pressed back against the desk to avoid himself from being shoved back as he held firm to Optimus's leg, sword pressed to the underside of the knee joint in warning. He stared at the Autobot Leader from over his battle mask to see what his next move would be.

     He was, unfortunately, too focused on what was going on to notice the tiny human who came rushing into the room in the form of the half-pint human Miko to pay her any mind. Probably for the best, since the two mechs were clearly in the midst of a mild disagreement and it would have been rude for Wheeljack to call it quits so suddenly.

[Optimus Prime]

As with Wheeljack, Optimus was also blind to the fact they had an observer, let alone one of the children. He was too focused, and too intent on what he was doing to pay anything outside of his immediate focus any mind. If it were an actual battlefield the rules would be different, of course. Awareness of one's environment was paramount to survival. Make certain you do not get blindsided or ambushed from behind... keep an eye out for anyone across the way who may raise a gun to take a shot at risk of hitting one of their own... Yet here? There was no threat of such things, unless an individual had a real issue with what was going on to a point they tried to intervene physically. This hypothetical threat was no real hazard though, as even then it would be non-lethal. Whatever the case, in the end, Miko was nonexistent, her footfalls drowned out and presence not even noticed evidently by either Cybertronian.

The impact of shin against rib paneling echoed loudly in the enclosed space, a hard slam that was punctuated by a squeal of peds against the ground and the snarled growl of systems trying to adjust for balance's sake. Optimus' upper torso had been bent to try to follow through with his kick, ready to heave his shoulders and mass along with his leg to slam it to the ground to get stability. Yet, instead of being able to follow through, his movement was halted, and it was as if he had decided to kick a cargo container that he expected to be empty, but instead was full.

In a way, he did. Except this container was full of bad choices and general stupidity.

Letting out a gruff snort as balance was thrown off, Optimus' other ped twisted against the ground, a sharp pivot made to try to gain better footing while his arms swung out enough to counteract a possible fall. His left knee dipped down slightly to further aid in this, the momentary falter corrected promptly. While this action was swift with countless years of experience guiding, what happened next did cause him to pause, halting any immediate retaliation that would be so easy to flow into. This hesitation was simply because he did not wish to pull possible lethal force, while also gawking at the fact Wheeljack had pulled a SWORD out and was seemingly threatening to slice the back of his knee which would be devastating.

Optimus did not believe Wheeljack would do such a thing intentionally. As much as they may disagree, as much as they may contest one another... even if they got into a violent screaming match with punches being thrown with even more hate and noxious venom behind it than was happening here and now... he did not believe either of their lives would truly be in danger. That said, a sword was a sword, and he recognized well that the back of his knees were borderline unprotected. One wrong slash, intentional or not, could cause notable damage to a point he would be limping for a good while, if not indefinitely should there not be applicable replacement metals that could handle the stress his systems were put under in combat.

A fleeting moment, a brief pause that turned seconds into an eternity... Cyan optics bore down into Wheeljack's own, contracted lens plating making his fierce stare that much more intent and focused. The apertures and rings behind blue flicked and twisted with minute movements, punctuating the otherwise snapshot still stance that was taken between them both.

Really? Wheeljack was going to pull his sword? What kind of escalation was that? Throwing hands and starting this brawl was irresponsible and harsh, Optimus would not disagree there, yet he had no intention of drawing blade or gun and hadn't even given it consideration. If he had lost his balance and had instinctively tried to wrench his trapped leg back to catch himself... he would have sliced his OWN leg in response, possibly before the Wrecker would have pulled it aside. There could be an argument that Optimus' mass and raw strength was a weapon in its own right, and Wheeljack was simply equalizing the battlefield...

If Wheeljack wanted to pull 'weapons', then so be it.

Going from zero to sixty out from the momentary lull, Optimus projected he was about to move clearly, giving a good warning to the other Cybertronian before he swung his leg up roughly with a twist of his hip, pushing the extension of its mechanism to its pinnacle. He was trying to heft the limb higher than Wheeljack's own shoulder in a wrenching action with no intention to stop. There were more than a few ways this could go. Anywhere from the Wrecker swinging his arm, and by extension blade, away to not injure him from his reckless disregard to the threat, or the opposite direction of using the upswing to score around his joint in a half moon as if trying to cut off the lid of a can which could take his mobility down for the rest of the brawl. Whatever way Wheeljack reacted, however, Optimus was using raw strength in the action, and as such would not be halted even if he had to lift the other mech up with it.

This action would end with his leg attempting to pull back and away, tucking closer to his mass just enough to clear Wheeljack’s own. Should this work? Whether he felt pain or not, Optimus would kick out hard, driving his heel forward to try to slam it into the other Cybertronian’s chest to ram him back into the edge of the table.

Optimus was calling Wheeljack's bluff on whether or not he truly WANTED to use the sword as anything more than a hollow threat. It was a risky move, something that could cause notable problems, but he was not going to simply roll over and cry defeat for the threat of some wound from a reckless fool. A fool that had decided for who knows why to try to push buttons on a bomb that was already ready to go off. If Wheeljack was prepared to slice the back of his leg open?...

Then try it.

See where it got him.

[Miko Nakadai]

Miko watched in quiet horror, hoping - HOPING that one of them would glance down and notice her. Then they would maybe stop fighting. THEN they would stop hurting one another over whatever this was about.

Only… Would they stop? She’d never seen the Autobots fighting like this. Not with each other. She wanted to go and get help - Bulkhead would know what to do, he’d be able to talk to some sense into them. Put his mass between them maybe and break it up. Hold them at arm's length until they calmed down. He'd be able to do more than she could, which in this moment felt like absolutely nothing. 

Wanting to go and get Bulkhead, she whimpered at realizing her legs wouldn’t move. Silently willing herself to turn and run, she found herself unable. An odd transfixion where she couldn't even seem to look away. She’d been around Cybertronians for a while now, and had even somewhat perfected the art of telling just who was walking down the corridor by their footfalls alone. They were big, clunky, yet she never felt scared by their movements that sent vibrations through the concrete and up through her combat boots. Each and every one of them could squish her with so much ease, one simple misstep, or some other mistake - but even despite this? She’d never felt unsafe around them. Not ever.

This, though… These movements felt heavier than normal. No doubt because of the anger behind them and the fact things were so volatile. They hadn’t noticed her, and she doubted so very much she could move fast enough if something - or even one of them - were to be thrown this way. 

Each second seemed to drag on for an eternity, yet moved so fast all at the same time. Her eyes wide as an all-too-familiar sound was heard - Wheeljack’s battle mask.

That, paired with the fact that Optimus’ mask was also in place meant that neither of them were probably going to stop anytime soon. At least not until one of them was really hurt. 

Not daring to move closer, not yet, anyway, all she could do was watch - horrified as Wheeljack began pulling for one of his swords. Surely he would stop before doing anything with it, SURELY he wouldn’t hurt Optimus with it.

She didn’t dare look. While she couldn’t quite get her legs to work, her hands were a different matter, and they would slam over her face in an instant.

This, of course, only made things worse. Unable to see, she could now only hear what was going on. A gruff, snort like noise, metal scraping against concrete, the general sounds of movement. No roars of pain, no sounds of swords sinking in between joints - not that she really knew what that sounded like, but…

Peeking out from behind shaky fingers, she watched as Optimus swung his leg up - only to then lash out and kick Wheeljack. It looked to be hard, but she couldn’t tell if he was purposefully holding back having no real frame of reference.

What happened next scared her even more. Movement. Fast. The Wrecker’s blade shifted. A flash of blue - Energon.

“Wheeljack, no!!” her voice shaking, but as loud as she could manage. “DON’T!”

Pushing forward into a scrambled run even though she was beyond terrified, she would wave both arms above her head - trying desperately to get their attention.

(Vagueing around the attack hitting and subtle damage done with permission from Jazz and Zer, thank you!)

[Deleted]

     It was sheer luck that Wheeljack had already been bracing himself from the prior attack that kept him from flying back from the force of the kick. The metal of his chest groaned as it gave in to the impact. As the predominantly white mech stood on sturdy pedes with his back pressed into the desk behind him, a rage boiled deep within his core on the brink of spilling over. He didn't worry over the dented metal that folded several layers over the spark that pulsed strongly beneath but rather it was the absolute disregard he took in his pede placement. While it may have not been the most pressing matter to pay attention to in the optics of most, but it really took precedence in the situation to Wheeljack.

     Of all the things that could have been done, Optimus actively chose to crush the insignia on his chest that Wheeljack had worn since before he had ever taken the oath of the Prime.

     That insignia represented something much more to Wheeljack than just the Autobots. It represented the very pride in his fellow Wreckers who went out into the battlefield knowing they may not return- and most of whom did not- and never asked for anything in return. The memories of them and  what they fought and died for was what was being crushed. Optimus was putting all of them under his pede. Degrading them in a way that Wheeljack would not stand for. Not from the mech who was supposed to be their Leader; The mech it was supposed to represent. 

     Wheeljack didn't think of the situation they were in and he lost himself from the here and now. The water in the pot had boiled over. The kettle was whistling. Optimus had messed up big now and the Wrecker switched into a mode that few lived to see through to the end. Optics reflected that rage and his helm tilted down enough to cast a dark shadow over them and his wrist twisted to angle the sword's blade reflected the dim light in the room as the hasuji moved to slice and dice that delicate knee structure that lay in the wake of a very dangerous game the Autobot Leader had decided to play.

     If this was the card he wanted to deal then Wheeljack would ablidge. 

     The tintinabulation of the sword against metal ricocheted around the room, soft to the outside world, though deafening to one who was at the receiving end of the attack. Then...

     'Wheeljack no! Don't!'

     Miko.

     The faint cry of another mingled in, familiar enough to him to make him realize what was happening. He was not out on the battlefield facing down an opponent. He was back, still sandwiched between the Prime's pede and his desk. His optics flickered and helm rose some to rid himself of the dark casting. The sword was in mid movement, energon staining the blade, too late to stop the movement without lodging it. He quickly twisted his wrist so that the blade tilted downward and the hilt aimed in the former direction to stop a further assault that could have ended the Prime's ability to fully use that knee.

     Unable to move his arm in any other direction to get Optimus's pede away from him, he pulled back the hilt then slammed it back foward to aim towards the inner edge of it to 'encourage' him to remove his pede from him. If contact was made it wouldn't have the force to do any further damage, but it would definitely be a pinch to a nerve and remind him of what had happened here and how close Optimus had gotten to meeting a very different end.

     Wheeljack looked up at Prime, anger still in his optics, but at least he was here enough to know not to pursue this further. Optimus had called his bluff in an unfortunate way, and Wheeljack had been pushed to the edge. 

     "Idiot. You wanna take yourself outta leadership? Don't use me to do it. Get your pede off me."

[Optimus Prime]

While Wheeljack took his actions on a far more symbolic nature, such considerations were not shared. When push came to shove, one had to do what was needed to gain an upper hand within acceptable tolerances, even if it was a fight within the ranks. Any rules in play were simply lines drawn to not take things too far in a lethal direction, rather than more abstract considerations. No sword, no rifle, and no unthrottled punches or kicks anywhere near a helm. That was the bottom line, and Optimus would not alter his course of combat simply to avoid hitting a shield in his attempt to pin down Wheeljack.

This wasn't to say Optimus did not respect the Autobot emblem... no. He wore it in chrome on his shoulders and stood proud for all it represented. He gave his all for the cause and threw his life on the line more than a few times to save others and take a strike that may have been lethal to another. He fought, and he bled, and he anguished. He had survived physical pain on unbearable levels, as well as carried the mental anguish of knowing his own calls had led to the death of thousands upon thousands in the past. Yet, he endured, and he pushed on, willing to do whatever it took to help get others to an existence without this war. He would sacrifice his own spark, let his rusted husk be used as a step on the stairwell to a better life for all, if it would get the others there safely.

He fought for a future he didn't believe he would ever be able to see.

Optimus did not think about the symbolic nature of what he had just done at this time, too focused on the sword and trying to decipher if Wheeljack was bluffing or not. Would he drag the blade up? Or would he swing it down and out the way? Such was the most important question in those fleeting seconds, time seeming to slow once again as he watched the honed edge of metal intently as its shape twisted. It caught the light as it started to hook up under his knee, Wheeljack apparently willing to follow through with the attack that could cross many lines here. The second Optimus' mind registered what was coming, his opposite arm started to reel back, squared off fingers curling into a firm fist.

The blade ran on the backside of his knee, a sharp slice registering as technically being there, yet was muddled beneath rage and indignation that this fight had gone to this next level. Anger that was fed into his curled fist. Anger that would cause the cables in his arm to tighten. Anger that made it so that the second the blade gored into metal, his own strike was already on the offense, swinging around in a violent punch that would have struck the other Cybertronian in the shoulder hard.

Only for Miko's voice to cry out.

Focused and fierce eyes suddenly widened, Optimus' punch halting mid-movement as much as it could be. His curled fist flared open, and he drew back best he could. Momentum was a thing, however, and as such instead of a punch, Optimus' open palm slammed into Wheeljack's shoulder with a much more throttled impact. It was more akin to a shove than a punch at that point, showing how much speed had been thrown into it a moment prior for it to be impossible to halt. It was, in all actuality, a great show of will to abort such an attack as quickly as he had, even if it couldn’t be stopped in full.

The shove against Wheeljack was used to push the Prime back upright, foot still on the Wrecker's chest as he reeled his upper torso slightly so that he could see Miko in the doorway, his battle mask folding aside.

How long was she there? What had she seen? Optimus did not have more than a flicker to consider this before the hilt of the sword whacked the side of his knee sharply with a rattled bang to pull his attention back to what lay directly before him. Any look of momentary shock and horror at the new turn of events was instantly replaced with a fierce glare from the strike. It didn't make him remove his leg right away, far too steadfast in pinning Wheeljack in place, yet that did not mean it didn't sting.

With a snort of frustration, Optimus threw his weight forward some into one last 'push' into Wheeljack, the heavier desk scraping loudly against the concrete floor below from the force involved. It was only after this final punctuation that he pulled his leg away to plant onto the ground with a thrum, dapples of blue flicking to the ground, before starting to slowly collect along the gray armor just below the knee.

At this point, Optimus did not care that Miko was listening in. This was important, and had to be said right here in the now. If he were to brush this incident aside, go passive and move on to not make a larger scene or forge greater rifts in front of one of the humans? It would resolve nothing. Wheeljack would get to puff up like some boastful bird that thought he won something here, when he couldn't be further from the truth. Optimus may be more assertive with things, but that also meant should Wheeljack choose to remain, he would do well to follow in line.

"If you find so much fault with my leadership, you are more than welcome to depart Omega One immediately."

Optimus did not force anyone to serve. Autobots were free to choose whether they stayed within the team, or broke away to walk their own path in life. He would never hold ill will to those that wanted to try to escape the war, respecting their decisions and wishing them well on whatever road fate took them. Everything he fought for, everything this war was about, was an option to have a voice... to be able to make one's own decision in life...

To have a choice.

"If you decide to remain, you will address me with an iota of respect, or you will be evicted by force."

Disagree. Contest. Bring up faults or issues with something that was going on. Optimus, no matter how stressed, would always try to make time for others in order to address things and find equilibrium. He was not a dictator who would demand silence and obedience from his soldiers, and he never intended to be. He just wished to have a form of respect, to not be yelled at with a vomit of words and issues that had been stewing for countless years without seeking any form of resolution sooner. He wanted to not be scolded nor snarled at, not talked down to like he was some monster that sent lives to slaughter, or a fool that could do nothing right, when he was doing the best that he could with what he had. He needed his soldiers to back away from this new fad that took the form of insubordination, as if they could cry and whine and push and prod until he would roll over and accept their leadership instead.

He will take other’s considerations.

But they were not in charge.

Leaning forward some, Optimus' top lip pulled up into a broad sneer, distaste and venom laced in his following words as he stared Wheeljack down.

"I will not tolerate another tirade from you, or anyone else."

[Miko Nakadai]

The gentle thud of combat boots came to a stop as Miko tapered off her frantic run. She’d gotten their attention - that was the main thing - and as much as she wanted to run forward, to get closer to them, even to put herself between them if she had to, Optimus still had his foot against Wheeljack and she didn’t want to get accidentally trampled while tensions were at a high.

While she would never know for sure which one of them threw the first punch, she had heard everything. Wheeljack’s speech, Optimus’ reply - the movement and words that followed. It sounded like, to her, that Optimus had struck first.

At least physically.

Wheeljack’s words were cutting, all in their own way - to the point it was almost no wonder he made the Prime mad enough to hit him. To hear him so bluntly talk down Optimus’ leadership skills- she didn’t quite believe it.

Then again, she didn’t quite understand it to begin with. She did not know the ins and outs of the Omega Base or the Autobots, shielded from many of the scarier issues like MECH and the movements of the Decepticons, simply because as much as she wanted to, there was really nothing she could do to help. They protected her from the gory details, from the truth of things because it was what was best.

After all, she was just a child. While she had assisted the Autobots with a heck of a lot since she’d found out about their existence, there were more of them now than there had been - and while sometimes her thinking outside the box, or Jack’s use of logic, and Raf’s technical skills could come in handy? This was not their war.

But... what happened when there was fighting between Autobots? Between her friends?

Lowering her arms, she would stare up at the two before her. Her eyes wide, hoping that she had done enough simply by running over to calm things for the moment. She wasn’t worried about getting in trouble for barging in, or even overhearing - no. The important thing to her was that they would stop fighting.

Even though the following punch from Optimus had been so very toned back, to Miko it still looked rough from this angle. She hoped that would be the last of it, and so could only wince at the sound of the desk scraping against concrete as the Prime moved to pull his leg away.

The sight of dappled Energon had her nervous. While she knew Wheeljack’s swords were sharp, she never assumed - even for a moment - that he’d use them against an Autobot. There was also the fact that Energon was dangerous to humans, and as much as she wanted so desperately to run forwards, she found herself taking a few steps backward.

The next words from Optimus made her gasp, a hand slamming over her mouth as she stared up at Wheeljack.

No no no… Evicted by force? With how angry Wheeljack was, there was no way he would want to stick around - and she could only hope that Optimus knew and understood that he’d need some time to cool off. That he wasn’t going to leave the Autobots and never come back.

Right?

Right?

Rushing forward a couple of steps, only to immediately stop upon realizing again there was Energon, she would lower her arm, looking up at Optimus.

“Wheeljack will behave! Don’t kick him out!”

Maybe if she spoke up, maybe if she did something in this moment, both Optimus and Wheeljack would realize they had so much to lose if the Wrecker either walked out on them or got thrown out entirely.

[Deleted]

     It was lucky for Optimus that he moved his pede when he did, or else there would have been further problems. He was already skating on thin ice with Wheeljack after the stunt he had pulled, and by giving him one final shove it was only pushing his irritation with the glorified Autobot leader further. Wheeljack held firm as the mechanics of his optics whirled and clicked behind their screens as they shuttered into narrow slits. 

     The two had met at an unstable, volatile crossroad with probably the only thing that kept it from getting even uglier being Miko's arrival. Not that her presence actually stopped him from the fight, but more that she had brought him back to his senses enough to recognize that he didn't actually want to be the one responsible for getting dinged with an assassination attempt on the Prime. The mech could sit on his high horse all day and preach civility and whatever other crap helped him sleep at night but the Wrecker would never see it his way- just as Optimus would probably never come down to his level either. The Prime would actually have to get on his knees. That would be the day.

     That social difference was what brought these two to have such a varied view of how to handle things, with one opting for slow and steady strategic planning and the other went in with guns blazing for a full frontal assault. It had worked out for Wheeljack from before the days of even Iacon's existence so trying to tell this old dog that no longer was a viable option certainly wouldn't fly too far with him. It was just the Wrecker Way. Disagreements were hashed out going toe-to-toe with one another in order to work things out so all the anger could be put out in the open in a very straight forward capacity. Get it all out, hang it up, move it on. Those ways were far outdated for 'civilized' society- a society that Optimus came from- he as well as well long ago, though gave up to fight for something that meant a lot more than anyone would have ever imagined. Civilized was a word he threw out of his dictionary a long time ago.

     "Leadership?" There was a sound that came from the Wrecker that could have been been mistaken for a scoffed laugh or a grumbling snort depending on who one asked. "The fact you even use that term to describe yourself is a joke." To him, Optimus was the leader of the Autobots in name only. As long as he didn't prove himself to be made of the right stuff, the Wrecker would never recognize him as anything more than the pretty little figurehead that people treated like the holy relics of Primus. What he had done to the logo on his chassis dug his heels in even further with that sentiment. 

     Without even missing a beat or looking Miko's way-

     "He doesn't have to kick me out. I'm leaving on my own."

     Wheeljack returned his sword to its sheath as he pivoted on his heel to walk away from the situation that only a moment ago had been teetering on turning into a bloody mess. Without even asking for permission to leave or acknowledging Optimus's position in all of this, he made his way over to Miko and stared down at her for a moment. He didn't feel there was a need to apologize for what happened nor would he, especially not to Optimus who had actually started the physical altercation. Instead he crouched down by Miko and held his servo out to her, palm up so she could climb on. His battlemask finally retracted just in time for him to speak to the pint sized Wrecker in Training.

     "Come on, kiddo. I need to clear my head and you could use a breather." 

     Once she was safely on board he stood to walk while he carefully moved his servo to his shoulder so she could climb on and be safely away from any risk of being trampled. He didn't care if Optimus protested or not. If there were any chance of the Wrecker ever returning to base, Miko would have to be the voice of reason to convince him to. 

     Quite frankly? Good luck, Miko.