Spark of a New Dawn

Chapter 10

The Autobot base was quiet for once. No alarms, no Decepticon reports, no tension hanging in the air. Just the faint hum of the generators and the occasional clank of metal footsteps echoing through the steel corridors. It was the kind of silence the Autobots rarely got to enjoy—and they intended to make the most of it.

In the rec room, Bumblebee sat cross-legged on the floor, hunched over an old Earth radio he had managed to get working. Static crackled through the speakers as he fiddled with the dial.

“C’mon, work with me here…” he muttered, antennae twitching in concentration. Suddenly, the static cleared, and the sound of a human song filtered out, tinny but clear. Bumblebee’s optics lit up. “Ha! Got it!”

Sideswipe, lounging back in one of the chairs with his feet propped up on the table, looked over with a smirk. “What’s that supposed to be? Sounds like noise.”

“It’s music,” Bumblebee said proudly. “Human music. Way more fun than listening to Prowl lecture us about ‘protocol’ all the time.”

From across the room, Prowl’s voice came flat and sharp, though he didn’t bother looking up from his datapad. “If you actually listened to my briefings, you’d avoid half the disciplinary reports I have to file.”

Sideswipe grinned and twirled his energon blade in his servo. “That’s half the fun, Prowl.”

Bumblebee snorted. “Exactly.”

Elita One was resting on the couch nearby, leaning back with her optics half-onlined. She still needed to take it easy, but she refused to stay in her quarters all day. Optimus had agreed, under the condition she didn’t overwork herself.

“You two sound like sparklings,” she said with a chuckle.

“Sparkling?” Sideswipe said, grinning wider. “I think I’d make a great one. Always running around, causing trouble.”

“You already do,” Prowl muttered.

The door slid open with a hiss, and Ironhide entered with Chromia close behind him. He took one look at Sideswipe’s lazy sprawl and grumbled. “Figures. You’re always sittin’ around, slaggin’ off.”

“I’m recharging my charm,” Sideswipe shot back.

Chromia rolled her optics and went straight to Elita, taking a seat beside her. “How are you holding up?”

Elita smiled faintly. “Better today. Ratchet insists I keep my energy steady, so here I am, trying not to do anything.”

“Good,” Chromia said firmly. “You’re not lifting a servo until Ratchet says otherwise. I’ll keep an optic on you myself if I have to.”

Across the room, Wheeljack was bent over a workbench, servos moving quickly as he adjusted the inner workings of some new contraption. “Don’t worry about Elita. Worry about this beauty right here! I’m building a compact energon stabilizer—if it works, we’ll power half the base with minimal drain!”

The device gave off a sudden spark, followed by a loud pop.

Chromia flinched back while Ironhide instinctively threw his arm in front of her. “Primus’ spark, Wheeljack! Can’t you build somethin’ that *doesn’t* try to blow itself up?!”

Wheeljack looked up sheepishly, visor glowing. “Hey, that’s just the testing phase! Totally normal!”

“Normal my aft,” Ironhide growled.

From his place against the wall, Jazz laughed, arms folded casually. “I dunno, Ironhide, I think ‘Wheeljack’s fireworks show’ is the best entertainment this base has.”

“Not when I gotta fix the walls afterwards,” Ratchet’s gruff voice called from the hall. The medic stepped in, giving Wheeljack a look that could melt steel. “If you blow another hole in my medbay ceiling, I’m welding your servos together.”

Wheeljack raised both servos defensively. “Relax, doc, I’ve got it under control!”

Ratchet muttered something under his breath, clearly not convinced, before turning his attention to Elita. “And you—still taking it easy?”

“Yes, Ratchet,” Elita said with a small smile.

“Good. Keep it that way,” Ratchet said, before leaving again, clearly still irritated with Wheeljack.

Bumblebee, still fiddling with the radio, leaned back against the table, humming along to the Earth tune. “I kinda like this song. Humans sure know how to make noise sound good.”

Sideswipe leaned over. “Play something faster. Something you can actually *fight* to.”

“You can’t fight to this?” Bumblebee teased, raising the volume.

“Not unless my opponent is asleep,” Sideswipe shot back.

Elita laughed softly. “You two never stop, do you?”

“That’s what keeps things interesting,” Jazz said, giving her a wink.

From his seat at the far end of the room, Optimus had been quiet, scanning through datapads. But when the chatter rose again, he finally set the pads down and looked around.

“I see our downtime is being… well-spent,” he said, his tone serious but his optics amused.

“Hey, downtime is important!” Bumblebee said quickly. “We gotta recharge our spirits somehow.”

Sideswipe smirked. “Exactly. We can’t all sit around reading reports, Prime.”

Optimus arched an optic ridge, but the corner of his mouth curved ever so slightly. “Perhaps not. Still, try not to dismantle the base in the process.”

Wheeljack muttered under his breath, “No faith in brilliance, none at all…”

Chromia snickered. “You’ll earn faith when your inventions stop trying to kill us.”

The Autobots burst into laughter again, the sound filling the room. Even Elita leaned against Chromia, shaking her head with a smile.

The rest of the afternoon went on like that. Bumblebee kept playing with the radio, tuning it from static to different Earth songs, making everyone comment on how strange or catchy they were. Sideswipe challenged Sunstreaker to a game of cards on the main table, the two brothers quickly getting competitive and arguing about the rules. Jazz provided commentary like it was some kind of arena match, making Bumblebee laugh so hard he nearly dropped the radio.

In one corner, Wheeljack kept tinkering, this time under Ratchet’s suspicious watch. Every time a spark flew, Ironhide muttered something about “idiot scientists” and “blowing up the base.” Chromia threw in her own teasing remarks, though she made sure Elita stayed relaxed on the couch beside her.

Even Optimus was drawn into the casual atmosphere, answering Bumblebee’s endless questions about Earth’s music, or correcting Jazz’s exaggerated retellings of past battles. It wasn’t his usual role, but he didn’t seem to mind this once.

The Autobots filled the base with easy conversation, jokes, and the occasional outburst when Sideswipe accused Sunstreaker of cheating. For once, there was no fighting, no missions, no danger—just a team enjoying being together.

-To Be Continue-