Dysfunctional Team: Season 1

Talos Four, Periphery Heights, Moscow Hotel, 23rd floor, nighttime

DING!

The elevator opened, letting Warmup out. Warmup walked into the hallway, taking a left. He walked in a slightly erratic pace, slightly slowing down or speeding up with no discernible reason. The hallway was painted like the lobby, only in a slightly lighter shade of blue than before. There were some miscellaneous items on the walls such as paintings of landscapes, portraits of notable Cybertronians, and the occasional mirror.

Warmup arrived at his and Cooldown's room and opened it. Inside, he saw Cooldown sitting down at the table, gulping down the rest of the liquid in his glass, before setting the glass back on the table. He got the bottle and began pouring more in the glass. "Hey Warmup," he greeted, done pouring and putting the bottle back on the table. He grabbed the glassed and took a sip while signaling for him to come over. Warmup obliged, taking a seat at the table and taking a drink. Almost immediately, he spited it out.

"Ugh, Sweet Dreams Fuel," Warmup spat out in disgust. "Way too sweet for me," he complained. Cooldown drank down the rest of his with no problems and setting his glass down.

"Well then, I guess you won't be drinking that," Cooldown pointed out the rest of the drink in Warmup's hand. Warmup looked at it before passing it too him. Cooldown drank it down quickly and set it back down on the table, before pouring more in the glasses. "So, how was the concert?" he asked, done pouring and getting ready to take another drink. "I didn't expect you back so quickly."

"That's because I got kicked out," Warmup remarked bitterly. "This femme was protesting Rosanne, which, to be fair, her music is pretty bad, but she is a great femme to look at," the red twin told his blue twin. "I tried to calm her down, but instead I got in an argument with her and got a security guard to come over and kicked the both of out. Ugh, I'd really wanted to hit that femme."

"It looks like she hit you," Cooldown said, gulping down the first glass and moving on to the second one.

"Wait, it does?" Warmup asked, holding his face.

"Yeah, you got a scratch right on the left side of your face," Cooldown informed. Warmup began feeling the right side of his face. "Your other left," he corrected him. Warmup did what he said and felt the other side of his face.

"That glitch, I'm gonna have to buffer this out," the red mech complained.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Listen, we got this amazing opportunity to make a look of money," Cooldown said. Warmup looked at him strangely.

"Another job, already?" Warmup complained.

"Yes, another one and it's a very high-paying one," he said, as he downed the second glass.

XXX

The Merchant

Killshot sat in his room, shaking his head to his music, loading bullets into his clips for his pistol. The caliber was a pretty high and had some serious stopping power, great for both organic and synthetic life forms. Still, it was a good idea to have armor-piercing bullets to further help him pierce through synthetic beings.

Suddenly, someone knock on the door. Killshot didn't hear it though; as he was too busy listening to his music. He just kept on loading the clips for the gun. In response, a blue haze appeared in front of the door, showing Skywarp. Skywarp gazed around the room. On the left side, Killshot (who still didn't notice Skywarp) was on the berth on the left side of the room, with a pin-up of Rosanne above the berth and his visor on a table at the end of the berth. On the right was a big-screen TV that was currently off. On the far end was a mini armory, consisting of a variety of sniper rifles, bullets for non-energy sniper rifles, and accessories.

"Hey," Skywarp said to the assassin, trying to get his attention. He didn't react to him at all. Skywarp approach him saying, "Hey, Mr. Should-learn-when-to-keep-his-mouth-shut, I'm in your room, about to take all you stuff. You better stop me," Skywarp told the sniper. The grounder kept on listening to his music, which was starting to annoy the seeker. The music was loud and obnoxious. Skywarp decided he was going to have to get physical with the idiot. He was right beside of him now and position his hand behind his head. Skywarp brought his hand up and slam it right in the back of his head.

"OW!" Connection made. Killshot spilled his bullets to the floor and start grasping his head. "Okay, I didn't need that to happen to me again so quickly. Ow…." Killshot complained. He looked at the seeker with contempt. "How did you get in anyway? I lock the door so nobody would bother me," Killshot asked, lowering his headphones to his neck and lowering the volume so he can hear the seeker.

"Uh, I can teleport. Remember?" Skywarp told the selective-memory mech.

"Oh yeah, right. Did you really have to slap me?" he asked.

"No, but it sure felt good," Skywarp confessed. Killshot glared even harder at the seeker.

"So, why are you here?" Killshot asked.

"Swindle told me to tell you two things. Number one: the bullets you got from the cargo are being deducted from your pay-"

"He heard about that already?" Killshot complained.

"Number two," Skywarp ignored him, "you are to answer a called from Deadlock in a megacycle or two. I can't remember," Skywarp informed.

"Deadlock? What does he want? He is asking me to join a pow-wow, 'cause I'm kinda busy right now," Killshot asked Skywarp.

"I don't know. From what I heard, I think he just wants to talk to you. He said you two haven't talked in a while," Skywarp informed the assassin.

"Oh, yeah. Let me guess. He wants to talk about all the good times we had on Dabola," Killshot drifting off a little bit. "Man, those were some really fun times," Killshot remembered.

"Yeah, look, I don't want to know all about the violent times you two had with each other, but just be sure to be on the bridge in a megacycle or two to answer the call, alright," Skywarp told him before teleporting out, leaving the assassin by himself. The assassin stare at the blank space where the jet was for a few seconds before crouching down to pick up the bullets from the floor.

XXX

Scavenger couldn't really feel anything at the moment. He felt completely weightless, as if he was just floating in a blank space. He was just gliding along, noticing nothing. He just floated around in a constant state of bliss.

XXX

In the med-lab, Hook and Shockwave was busy looking through the expose back of Scavenger head. The wires in his head were a bit fried, but were still operational, meaning he still had control of his body. His brain module was a slightly different story. Some of the shell was in too bad of a condition to be of any use, with bits of it actually almost sticking to the inside of it. Hook had to cut the shell out and insert new one to preserve the brain module and actually keep his assistant alive and active.

"Explain to me why I m here assisting you?" Shockwave asked the doctor. Hook gave him a aside glance before explaining.

"I need an assistant. You're the one I trust the most on this ship. All the others I'm sure would attempt to screw me over in some way, I actively dislike, or are just annoying," Hook explained. "Now, give me the laser scalpel. I have to cut the fried shell of the brain module out," he ordered. Shockwave agreed, giving him the laser scalpel. Hook grabbed it and began cutting through the shell. Shockwave looked on with his ominous optic.

Hook began at the top of the shell, cutting it down slowly. Scavenger didn't react to it, lying completely still. "You've turn his pain receptors off," Shockwave noticed. Hook kept dragging the scalpel down, being a quarter of a way there now.

"Yes, I did. Its procedure," Hook replied, three-eighths of the way down. "Doesn't mean I do it all the time," Hook ominously said. Hook kept going down, reaching five-eighths of the way there before Shockwave spoke up again.

"Exactly what am I suppose to do besides giving you your instruments?" he asked. Three-fourths of the way there.

"I need you to hold his brain module while I take the rest of the shell out and replace it with another one," Hook answered. Almost there.

"Sounds simple enough," Shockwave commented.

"Yes, it does. Done," Hook said, placing the scalpel aside. "Retractor," he ordered, sticking his hand out. Shockwave agreed, giving it to him. Hook insert it into the small gap, making it bigger. "Forceps," he requested. Shockwave gave it to him. Hook inserted the forceps in and brought them back out with the brain module in it, wires still attached to it. "Hold this for a second," he said to Shockwave, who hold it in his hand. "I need to disconnect the wires," Hook said, and proceeded to do so. He took the wires out one at a time, and place them back in shell until he was done.

"Alright, hold on to that while I cut that shell out," Hook said. He took the scalpel and began cutting through the shell out of the head. He disconnected any wires stuck to the shell and cut the pieces out that were sticking to the head. Half an hour later, he was done, the old shell lying on the side away from Scavenger. He took one half of the new shell and inserted it in, connecting the wires to it and securing it in place.

"Give me the brain module back," Hook said. Shockwave gave it back and Hook inserted it back in, connecting all the wires of the shell back to the brain module. After that, he got the second half of the shell and connected it to the brain module before putting it back in. "Laser welder," he said, and Shockwave gave it to him. Hook used it to connect the two pieces back together the shell, making sure not to hit any of the wires. Scavenger didn't need any more wounds. With that done, he started connecting the back pieces of his head back together with the welder.

"Are we finished?" Shockwave asked. Hook didn't even spare him a glance as he connected the back of the head back together.

"Yes, you can go back to your lab and continue with whatever you were doing," Hook told him. Shockwave understand and went out of the room, leaving Hook alone with Scavenger's form. Hook continue on until he was done, connecting the back of the head to Scavenger. With this done, Hook set his tools done and gaze at his work. It was good, almost perfect in fact. The only sign surgery was done in the first place was some small scars and those could be buffed. TO bad he didn't have his buffer on hand or he could=

Wait; was that his buffer on his desk?

Hook walked to his desk and grabbed the buffer. Misfire didn't have enough time to use the buffer to fully use the buffer, so why was it back in his possession already? Hook thought this over a little bit, before heading back to Scavenger's form. He may not know now, but he'll figure it out tomorrow during their therapy session. Right now, he had to buffer the scar out of his assistant's head.

XXX

Misfire gazed into Slugslinger's optics- actually, scratch that. Optic. The left one was shot out. The blue jet lean against the wall, looking down on the Misfire as he sat down on the berth. He was currently smiling, which was pretty unnerving, considering all the holes in him. "So, how you're doing?" Slugslinger asked his trinemate.

"Uh, I may have leak some transmission fluid, but other than that, I'm fine," Misfire said, rather calmly, considering there was a walking corpse that he killed in front of him. "I'm certainly better than you," Misfire snark back. Slugslinger frowned at that.

"Yeah, I guess you are," he said, looking down at himself, as if he just noticed all the holes in him, "but I digress. I must say, despite the holes, I still look better than you," Slugslinger jeer, making fun of Misfire's scar. "How much did getting those hurt, on a scale of 1 to 10?" he asked.

"Eh, I'm not sure, but I'd say it was somewhere over nine-thousand," Misfire replied. They stared at each other for a little longer. "So, where's Triggerhappy? Did he have a date somewhere else? Some good-looking mechs and femmes have died during the war and it wouldn't surprise me if he hooked up with some of them," Misfire asked. In response, Slugslinger looked across from Misfire.

"Right there," he told him. Misfire turned to see Trigggerhappy leaning against the wall on the other side. Liked Slugslinger, he had a blue paint job. Also liked Slugslinger, he kept his gruesome injury, in this case, everything above the jaw was gone. He was 'gazing' down at Misfire. 'Gazing' being use on loose terms. "Sorry for him not speaking," Slugslinger said behind him, sounding a bit sarcastic, "he's a bit shy. You won't be getting head from him anytime soon." Triggerhappy replied to that by sticking his middle finger up at him. "Sorry, I'd had to say that."

"Uh, guys, exactly why are you here?" Misfire asked. Slugslinger looked at the jet.

"A combination of drugs and guilt," he replied. Triggerhappy nodded his jaw in approval.

"Wow, I didn't know syk had that effect," Misfire said. Misfire noticed something he said. "Wait, guilt? Ha, yeah right. I don't feel guilt!" Misfire blew him off, although he sounded a bit nervous at that. Triggerhappy shook his jaw up-and-down.

"Triggerhappy's right. You do," Slugslinger said. Triggerhappy gave some weird hand motions. "In fact, so guilty, you get yourself high every time you think about your actions," Slugslinger translated for him.

"That not's true! Shut up!" Misfire shouted at his hallucinations. "I'm trying to get high here! Not get a therapy lesson, so shut up," Misfire said, sounding a bit like a mad man.

"Misfire, admit it. You're guilty over causing our deaths," Slugslinger tried to coax.

"I may have been involve in your death, but I wasn't involve in Triggerhappy's. He got shot by a sniper. What was I suppose to do about that, uh?" he asked.

"You were still involved. You just don't realize it. Think about it," Slugslinger said. "In fact, you were directly and indirectly involved with everyone's death; Ours, Blackout, Fulcrum, the Vehicons,.. all of them.

"No, I'm not," Misfire said, holding his hands to his heads, holding back a headache. "Now go away, just go away. Go away, go away, go away…." Misfire repeated to himself And he kept repeating, repeating, repeating, over, over, and over again.

"Go away."