I’ve watched maybe a dozen episodes of ‘Armada’ and love the toys, so obviously I’m qualified to write a fic about it. [/sarcasm] The theme ingrediant tonight is 'How Much Is The Fish' by Scooter.

“I suppose,” said Shrapnel. “But it rather depends on what you’re after.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” asked Bombshell.

The beetle frowned. “But … but I heard someone say that the chase is better than the catch.”

Wayward, perched on Kickback’s shoulder with an arm wrapped around his wing, peered down at the battlefield. “I think we’ve got bigger problems than Shrapnel hearing things – like why are we in Armada, and why am I a twelve-year-old? Last I remember, I was a big bee in the Predacon base. I bet this is another dumb dream sequence one like my last adventure.”

“You’re a grub because there’s no adults in Armada,” said Bombshell. “I don’t know why we’re here, though.”

“A grub!?”

The protest was cut off as all four ducked, laserfire lancing over their hiding spot. For reasons as yet unknown – and that will be ignored completely – Wayward and the Insecticons found themselves in some generic badlands, hiding behind a pile of rocks on a small mesa, while the Autobots and Decepticons thrashed it out below. Except that it was the wrong continuity. “Nice helmet on Megatron, though,” Kickback chuckled. “It looks like you, Shrap.”

“Oh, ha ha, ha.”

Kickback cocked his head slightly, twitching his antennae. “Okay, I heard it that time.”

“We all heard it,” said Bombshell.

“Actually, it’s the first page of the sixth chapter,” said Wayward, then scowled. “And if I’m coming up with revelations out of the air like that, this means we’re in a bad fanfic, dream or not. There’ll be a Mary-Sue around here someplace, and I’ll have to fight her.” The girl paused, considering. “Come to think of it, I’ve never actually beaten one before …”

“And the music?” asked Shrapnel.

“We’re in a songfic,” said Wayward. “Fortunately, it doesn’t seem to be one of the usual sappy kind. I think I recognise this one.”

Kickback risked a peek around their cover. “It’s got a good beat, whatever it is. Too bad the party-bots down on the plains fight so slow. How many times do you really need to say, ‘I am invincible because I have the Star Sabre and the Skyboom Shield’? I’d think once would be enough.”

“‘Skyboom’,” chuckled Shrapnel. “Skyboom, Skyboom, Skyboom. It’s fun to say, at least, at least.”

Down in the wasteland, Megatron shouted, “I am invincible because I have the Star Sabre and the Skyboom Shield!”

“You know, the other Autobots could hit him in the back,” murmured the grasshopper.

Bombshell snorted. “Don’t be sensible. Oh, look, they’re going to stand there and yell threats for a while. Is this a bad fanfic or just an episode?”

“Be nice,” said Wayward.

“Question,” said Kickback. “Aren’t the lyrics in a songfic supposed to have some sort of bearing on the actual plot?”

Wayward shrugged. “Like I said, it’s usually currently-popular love songs that the characters somehow know despite being giant alien robots.”

“I, for one, don’t feel particularly impelled to keep up with the song,” said Bombshell.

“If we really, really stretch it, the ‘rhythm-attack’ could tie in to the battle, battle …”

Bombshell’s optics flashed in surprise. “Did it just say …”

“Yep,” grinned Kickback.

The girl looked up at the sky imploringly, waving her free hand. “Okay, now I’m confused. It was weird enough landing in Armada, but Scooter music is not proper songfic fare. At least, I’ve never seen it used.”

“This is stupid, stupid,” said Shrapnel. “Let’s just figure out what we’re supposed to do and go back home, home.”

“Like I said, I tend to end up in these things to battle Mary-Sues and the like,” said Wayward. “The problem is that all those robots slugging it out down there are canon. No fan characters.”

“If they’re fighting,” said Kickback, “And this is Armada, it means there’s a Minicon around here someplace. Maybe that’s the fanchara.”

“Don’t be silly. Minicons can’t talk, so they never get any personality,” said Bombshell.

Movement at the edge of his vision caught Shrapnel’s attention. “There’s some grubs down there, watching the fight, fight.”

Wayward tightened her grip on Kickback’s wing as the Insecticons flew to check out the new development. “Would you guys stop calling children ‘grubs’?”

Kickback grinned. “Only if you stop calling us Insecticons ‘guys’.”

The Armada Cybertronians were too busy fighting each other to notice the small Insecticons slip around to where the Autobots’ human friends were watching. The children were so wrapped up in watching the battle to notice that the Insecticons were standing behind them. After a few minutes, Kickback faked a cough.

“A-hem.”

Five of the six children shrieked and ran off to find cover. The sixth stood her ground, glaring defiantly up at the Insecticons. “Decepticons!”

“Observant,” murmured Kickback, lifting Wayward down from her perch.

Wayward gave the sixth child a careful look. “She’s the one. Non-canon, perfectly straight hair hanging past her waist in three unnatural colours, older than the others, dressed like an elf slut, far too pretty to be a real kid.” She took a few steps forward, placing herself about midway between the Insecticons and the girl. “All right, let’s get this over with. I’m Wayward, Reluctant Mary-Sue. Who’re you, kid?”

“My real name is Madison Emily Geller, but my friends call me Silverstar,” said Madison Emily Geller with a flip of her long, violet-silver-blue hair. “I’m fifteen years old, an orphan, and the Autobots adopted me, even though I could live perfectly fine on my own, but they wanted me because I’m very smart and can fight. I’m also part elf and have magic powers.” She paused for a moment, thinking something over. “But I’m not a Mary-Sue. I’m just extremely smart and pretty and tough and am an expert at everything I do and have magic powers and always win. I’m going to find that Minicon so you Decepticons can’t get it!”

The Insecticons exchanged glances. Bombshell shrugged. “So, do we step on her or what?”

“Hmm, I’d feel bad about squishing a little girl,” said Wayward.

“I am not a little girl!” huffed Madison Emily Geller. “I’m a teenager and I have magic powers! And which one of you wrecked my song? This was supposed to be Evanescence’s Bring Me To Life! You’re ruining it for me!”

“That would be me, though I do it unconsciously,” said Wayward. “It probably switched to a happy techno song because there’s enough angsty songfics out there. And what does Bring Me To Life have to do with finding Minicons?”

When the other children realised that the Insecticons had made no threatening moves towards them, a couple of them gathered the courage to shout a few taunts. Shrapnel looked over, smiled, and the heckling ceased. He turned back to the main problem. “All right, no killing the gru … small humans,” he corrected. “Then what, what?”

“I will use my magic powers,” said Madison Emily Geller in what she apparently thought was a threatening voice. “And then you’ll be sorry.”

The Insecticons ignored her. “We have to get the Minicon first,” said Wayward. “The story will fall apart without its little plot device du jour.”

Madison Emily Geller made an angry face. “You’re ruining my story! I’ll show you!” Light flashed around the blonde girl in a reasonably impressive display. “Now you have to obey songfic rules, so ha-ha!”

Kickback’s visor flashed a blink. “We’re going to suck?”

“No, it means we have to fit what we do to the song,” said Wayward.

“Wayward,” sighed Bombshell, “It’s a song about fish.”

“Oh, that’s us already, already,” grinned Shrapnel. “Insecticons – are – go!”

With a happy whoop, the Insecticons dashed off in three different directions. Madison Emily Geller screeched in frustration. “Stop that! Stop that! This is my story so you have to play by my rules! I’m the hero! Me!”

“That’s what they’re doing, kid,” said Wayward. “You cursed us, you live with it.”

“Ha!” said Madison Emily Geller. “You can’t stop the story! I’m going to win!”

Madison Emily Geller made it two steps before Wayward stuck out a foot and tripped her. “Yep. Stories are nigh unstoppable once they get going. It’s just not your story any more.”

“Hey! You can’t do that to our friend!”

“Yeah!”

Wayward glanced back over her shoulder. With the Insecticons gone, the other children had regained their courage. “You know, it’s twits like you that made me so very happy to leave grade school behind.” This was Armada, they wouldn’t hurt her, probably just restrain her somehow. She didn’t like the sound of that, either.

Her body was that of a child, but in her mind Wayward was still an adult. She had never been fond of children, even as a child, but she couldn’t bring herself to fight them. It just wouldn’t be fair. Instead, Wayward ran.

Shrapnel peered around a rock formation, then smirked. “This action sequence could use a bit of action, action …”

With a happy, high-pitched cackle, Shrapnel took to the air. He landed lightly on the top of Megatron’s helmet, holding the antlers for balance, then leaned down to grin at the Armada Transformer. “Hello, hello! You seem to have borrowed my design for your hat, but I don’t mind, don’t mind. I’m here to help.”

Megatron made a grab for the Insecticon, but Shrapnel leapt into the air. The Decepticon snarled. “I don’t recall sending for any reinforcements.”

“What is this?” demanded Hotshot from across the battlefield. “The miniature Decepticon back-up team?”

“Not Decepticons, ticons,” Shrapnel countered cheerfully, raising his grenade-launcher. “Insecticons!”

Bombshell covered his optics with his hand despairingly as Insecticon clones swept through the battle, happily pouncing on anything that moved. “Shrapnel, you idiot …”

“Looks like he’s got the distraction down,” said Kickback, landing beside his comrade. “I can’t find the bittybot. Our sensors aren’t right or something.”

The psychologist pondered that. “You know, I’ll bet Wayward has to find it. She’s our Mary-Sue, after all. Where’d we leave her?”

“Who cares?” asked Kickback. “Watch …” The warrior put one hand to his chest, the other backwards against his forehead. “Oh no, we will never find the Minicon without Wayward’s help! Where could she be?”

In perfect accordance with the laws of Pointless Coincidences in Bad Fanfic, Wayward suddenly barrelled around the side of a rock pile … unfortunately with an alien motorcycle right behind her.

The rider leapt off of the motorcycle and split into two Minicons, while the motorcycle began to twist and unfold. Kickback crouched, preparing to strike. “Scrap! I’ll take this one, you two go find the …”

Sideways staggered back as the cerebro-shell smacked into his forehead. His Minicons stood back, uncertain of what to do when their master wasn’t giving orders. Kickback turned and glared at Bombshell. “Hey, I called this one.”

“Too slow, Kickback. Now, what to do with this fellow …” Bombshell tapped his facial grill thoughtfully, giving Sideways a critical look. “Let’s see … I know! Whenever you use your black Minicon, you’ll be an Autobot, but when you use the gray one, you’ll be a Decepticon.”

Wayward sighed. “Bombshell, he already does that.”

“Oh. Well, then he’ll think he’s a fish.”

They watched Sideways ‘swim’ away, Rook and Crosswise tagging along behind. Kickback shook his head. “Way to work in the title, sort of. We still need to find the Minicon before what’s-her-face the elf-girl does.”

“That’s ‘Silverstar’!” yelled Madison Emily Geller, who used her magic powers to fly in. “Now I will cast a spell on you to … mmph!”

“Bombshell …” Wayward started.

“What? She’s not hurt,” Bombshell replied. Madison Emily Geller looked rather silly with most of her head covered by Bombshell’s hand, but she was uninjured.

“Right. So how do we locate this Minicon?” asked Kickback.

“Hey, I just saw a sparkle over that way!” said Wayward. “That’s always the way Minicons are found in these things!

“You heard the song,” said Wayward, running towards where she saw the flash, Kickback following.

“Are you sure you didn’t pick this song on purpose, ‘Ward?” asked Kickback. “Because it really sounds like us.”

“Like I asked to be in a songfic.”

They followed the glint to a crevice in the side of a mesa. Kickback scraped away the rock with his claws, revealing the small pentagonal device. He pulled on the Minicon plate with all his strength, but it didn’t move. Wayward gave it a little tug, and it tumbled into her hands. The grasshopper snorted. “Typical.”

Wayward held the plate, then handed it up to Kickback. He took it from her, but looked confused. “Why give it to me?”

“Because typical Mary-Sue behaviour would be to claim the Minicon for myself, and it’s my job to break that cycle,” said Wayward. “Besides, I take the bus everywhere, and whoever heard of a Minicon bus?”

“Gotcha.” Kickback held the plate aloft and shook it like an Etch-A-Sketch. “All right, you in there. Scan me.”

Realising that the Minicon was claimed, or just because they really had no purpose in the story in the first place, the Autobots and Decepticons left, taking most of the children with them. Madison Emily Geller, still held by Bombshell, remained behind. Shrapnel deactivated his clones and joined the others in watching the Minicon plate scan Kickback. “It should be mine!” wailed Madison Emily Geller. “This was my story! I was going to name him ‘Silversabre’ and he would be more powerful than the Star Sabre!”

“And now it will have a craving for pudding,” said Wayward. “Go home, kid. Go write something that hasn’t been written a thousand times already. Sheesh, it’s like you kids never actually read fanfic.”

Madison Emily Geller vanished in a puff of sulky smoke.

“Are we ever going to find out the price of the fish, the fish?” asked Shrapnel.

Before anyone could answer, the lights faded and instead of a plate, Kickback held a small robot. It looked vaguely like the Insecticon, though more like a grasshopper-jet than a proper grasshopper. Bombshell yawned. “Congratulations – it’s an androgyne.”

“I think it’s kind of cute,” said Kickback.

“What’re you going to name it?” asked Wayward.

“Given how many Minicons have Go-Bot names,” said Kickback, “And in honour of this dreadful little songfic …”

Kickback grinned down at the Minicon, cradling it with one arm. He tapped a claw against its tiny nose. “There’s only one thing to call it …”

“ … Scooter.”