Peace between the Autobots and the Decepticons didn't mean an end to all fighting. The galaxy remained largely a lawless place, despite the Autobots' best efforts to export civilization and the rule of law; piracy was a huge problem, and doubly so those pirates who participated in the interplanetary slave trade.
"Attention, crew of the Violator." Hot Rod stood on the deck of his flagship, hands clasped behind him (lest the pirates see his shackles and get the wrong idea). "This is Hot Rod, co-leader of the Autobots. You are in our territory, depriving sapients of their freedom in defiance of Article Three of the Galactic Accords. Power down your engines and weapons and prepare to be boarded, or we will fire."
The pirate on the screen sneered, displaying sharp metal teeth. "Don't make me laugh, flamer. You won't fire on us - you might hurt our cargo."
Hot Rod rolled his gaze toward the ceiling. "Oh, gee," he pronounced, "you're right." He let the pirate be smug a moment before adding, "I guess I'll just have to let my boyfriend take care of you."
The pirate blinked. "Your wh-"
The video link stuttered and dissolved into abrupt static. The other Autobots on deck laughed and cheered, but Hot Rod remained silent, watching out the viewport as the slaver ship rocked and shudder and die a death of a hundred violet-lit cuts.
The video link blipped on again; Galvatron's grin threatened to break the confines of the screen. "The Violator is ours!" he declared.
"And the prisoners?" Hot Rod asked pointedly.
Galvatron grumped. "As promised, they are unharmed."
Hot Rod grinned and let his hands fall to his sides, displaying the cuffs to full view. "Good. Then I guess I won't make you recharge on the couch tonight."
"As if you could!" Galvatron snorted with a proud toss of his head. "Galvatron out!"
The connection was cut; Hot Rod relaxed. At the weapons station, Springer shook his head and chuckled. "Are you two ever going to get enough of each other?"
Out of hearing range of his dangerous lover, Hot Rod let his pleasure and admiration show in his voice. "Primus, I hope not."
Re: :D
"Attention, crew of the Violator." Hot Rod stood on the deck of his flagship, hands clasped behind him (lest the pirates see his shackles and get the wrong idea). "This is Hot Rod, co-leader of the Autobots. You are in our territory, depriving sapients of their freedom in defiance of Article Three of the Galactic Accords. Power down your engines and weapons and prepare to be boarded, or we will fire."
The pirate on the screen sneered, displaying sharp metal teeth. "Don't make me laugh, flamer. You won't fire on us - you might hurt our cargo."
Hot Rod rolled his gaze toward the ceiling. "Oh, gee," he pronounced, "you're right." He let the pirate be smug a moment before adding, "I guess I'll just have to let my boyfriend take care of you."
The pirate blinked. "Your wh-"
The video link stuttered and dissolved into abrupt static. The other Autobots on deck laughed and cheered, but Hot Rod remained silent, watching out the viewport as the slaver ship rocked and shudder and die a death of a hundred violet-lit cuts.
The video link blipped on again; Galvatron's grin threatened to break the confines of the screen. "The Violator is ours!" he declared.
"And the prisoners?" Hot Rod asked pointedly.
Galvatron grumped. "As promised, they are unharmed."
Hot Rod grinned and let his hands fall to his sides, displaying the cuffs to full view. "Good. Then I guess I won't make you recharge on the couch tonight."
"As if you could!" Galvatron snorted with a proud toss of his head. "Galvatron out!"
The connection was cut; Hot Rod relaxed. At the weapons station, Springer shook his head and chuckled. "Are you two ever going to get enough of each other?"
Out of hearing range of his dangerous lover, Hot Rod let his pleasure and admiration show in his voice. "Primus, I hope not."