September 16, 2011, 3:52 PM
(War Room, Iacon)
Prowl frowns slightly to himself as he finishes reading yet another report. Between the attack on Iahex, subsequent destruction of the experimental weapon there, and the planning for the retrieval of First Aid, he's frankly amazed he hasn't blown something yet. He heaves air out his vents, flicking his doorwings to help relieve kinks in the joints.
Sideswipe's urge to punch in the nearest wall is alleviated only on seeing the very mech he'd been wishing was the wall. After searching what feels like all of Iacon, his patience has worn as thin as his paint on his left side. Striding over to the black and white with all the presence his annoyance has to offer, he blatantly disregards any formality. When the weight of his stare doesn't have the effect he's looking for, he finally speaks up. "What the frag is going on?" Faceplates like thunder doesn't cover it.
"Iacon is in lockdown. We are searching for someone." Prowl says calmly, not looking up from his work yet. "Presumably you have noticed this by now." He pauses as the console beeps, frown deepening slightly. "Iahex has been attack and is currently awaiting repairs. Is there anything else you would like to know?"
"Being the smart mech round here, you say some dumb slag." The red mech's words are deliberately meant to elicit more engaging response. Prowl's lack of optic contact is grating. "What I want to know, is why the slag we're all standing around under your security blanket when we could be out there, saving First Aid?!" You really think he cares if the entire room can hear him? "By the time we get our afts in gear, there's not going to be a First Aid left to rescue!"
Light footfalls can be heard coming from outside the War Room before Silverfang peeks her head in to find out what was going on. She blinks her optics and looks first at Prowl, and then at Sideswipe. She tilts her head, "Um.. excuse me?"
Prowl twitches a doorwing slightly in annoyance. "He is in Decepticon captivity, Sideswipe. We cannot just charge in there without a plan. And he is not the only one I have to consider." He stops there as Silverfang speaks, finally looking up from his console to fix her with a rather sharp stare. "Yes?"
The femme is familiar only in appearance and he doesn't care enough right now when he has a point to get across. Sideswipe knows he's getting to the technician just by watching the emotion run through those doorwings. "Why not? So you're happy to give the 'Cons time to pull data from First Aid, make plans for themselves and attack us first? 'Cause that's what you're doing!" Subconsciously, he'd started pointing and gesturing with his arms, but now both are at his sides, hand clenching into fists. "You're killing him!"
Giving that same stare back Silverfang replies, "I could probably go out scouting to see what the Decepticons are up to. Instead of just staying in one place.." She sits back and says, "That is my job after all." Silverfang glances over at Sideswipe, her ears and tail twitching slightly.
"If you have not already been ordered out, you will most likely be sent on a different shift. However, absolutely no one is to approach Decepticon territory at this time." Prowl answers Silverfang, ignoring Sideswipe's rant for the moment. Slag it all, he didn't have time for this. "If there is nothing else...?"
The thought of First Aid and his brother's suffering like this has been praying on his mind so much now, he's convinced himself there's no other way than immediate action. It's not even his drive to fight that is making him rage this time. The idea of Sunstreaker being played with by Soundwave and Co. is almost unthinkable. But then, his optics flash, a note of anger dropping from his tone. "What if I do? What if Tails over here does her job and goes too? We suddenly the bad guys? What the frag, Prowl!" With a growl that he can't tell is from his engine or from his vocalizer he turns, looking at the femme. "Nice to hear I'm not the only one with sense."
Silverfang shakes her head, offers a quick salute and then abruptly leaves the room, her optics shooting Sideswipe a look. Her processor is already reeling with thoughts, among other things. Like defying orders for that matter...
Prowl waits for the door to slide shut behind Silverfang before abruptly pushing himself to his feet, turning to face Sideswipe with narrowed optics. "Then /you/ will be responsible for First Aid's death. The Decepticons are unaware we know First Aid's location, and scouting parties into their territory WILL alert them to this fact." He snaps, doorwings hitching up high and tense behind him. "We have an agent in their ranks. She was initially sent undercover for another reason entirely, but now she is going to assist in extracting First Aid. I /had/ planned to assign you to Jazz and Elita One's team for the infiltration- Primus knows you can be stealthy when it suits you- but your current behaviour is making me wonder if that would be wise."
Tch. No backstrut, thinks Sideswipe. Yet another ready to just let this carry on! When Prowl's scrutiny turns back to him, he happily stares, hatefully, back. For once, he listens but only because it's in his best interests. Realization of the truth dawns on him, annoyance fading to something almost like surprise. They have a mole? Why didn't he know this?! If anything he's angry at himself for not finding this all out sooner. "You kept that tight under the hood, huh." Only then does he notice how close they are, having to look down at the shorter- but only in physical stature- mech, and steps back. Quickly he reaffirms his point, not willing to let Prowl 'win'. "You better keep me on that team! You can't stop me from just tagging along either way but don't kid yourself. You need me there." The idea of getting to point is making him excited. "Hurry it up though; I refuse to bring back offlines."
"We kept the knowledge to the absolute fewest who needed to know. Since I still intend for you to be included in this mission, that now extends to you." Prowl scrutinizes Sideswipe carefully before returning to his seat, pulling up a few files he needed to review. He stays silent for a few moments, debating the benefits of saying something even as he scans over the information. "I do need you on this mission. It requires someone capable of both combat and stealth, who can still be trusted completely. Despite your apparent hobby of attempting to work the command staff into fits and enraging most of the mechs on base, you are the best candidate for this." He pauses consideringly. "And perhaps slagging any Decepticons who discover you will improve your temperament."
Need to know basis and Sideswipe kind of needed to know last orn. Now more at ease, as though he never was shouting at Prowl and annoying the Pit out of him, he leans back against the huge, oval table. "Yeah, I know I'm amazing. At annoying you, I mean. I'm a practically legendary in the rest." One fist grinds into the open palm of his other hand, imagining Skywarp's faceplate there. Oh yeah, he could use some Con slagging right now. If not for his temperament, for First Aid. Mostly his temperament, he admits after a moment's thought. After a moment, he turns mischievous optics on the higher-up. "About your..." Tracing a V shape over his forehelm, he grins. "I was thinking you should get something /sharp/ and sleek but still that red-"
"I suggest you stop while you are ahead, Sideswipe." Prowl deadpans, doorwings twitching in what just might be amusement. "My replacement chevron is already almost complete. And even if it were not, your opinion would not be taken into account."
Sideswipe 's mirth is evident, that grin getting bigger. "Suit yourself. You could of gotten tips from a guru but nope." Pushing off from the table with his aft, he looks at Prowl with what seems like genuine pity. "You could of looked as good as me. Smaller version of me, with doorwings." Elbows bent up tight, he moves his hands so they looks like they stick out from either side of him, moving up and down...like doorwings.
Prowl gives Sideswipe a blank stare, carefully hiding any humor he may or may not have found in the situation. "...I am perfectly content with my appearance, Sideswipe. Presumably you have something /else/ to do?" And he was supposedly running an army, not a sparkling center...
Sideswipe drops his arms down and just laughs. "You know my comm if you look in the reflection of a datapad one orn and you change your mind." With that he turns and goes to leave but just before he's out the door, he turns back with a more serious tone. "Same applies for when it's go time. I'm first to know."
Prowl is quiet for a few moments, typing out something on the console. He looks over at Sideswipe as the mech prepares to leave, nodding mildly. "You will be informed, Sideswipe. Thank you for your cooperation."
Once out of Prowl's sight, he allows himself a true smile; things are looking up. His step is lighter as he heads for the off-ramp, planning on fixing up his side considering most of it's paint is on the ramp's wall. Smoothly shifting into altmode, his thoughts drift back. With Jazz and himself on the extract team, First Aid is as good as home. Some part of him hopes he himself will come home with some souvenirs, in the form of Skywarp's wings.