Full Ark: Behind the Scenes 6

Titled: Gambling

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Jen looked up from the book she was reading when a very downed Bluestreak came by.

“What’s wrong, Blue?”

The Praxian leaned against the wall. “I just lost all my credits to Smokescreen.”

“You were gambling?” there was a slow nod from the gunner. “Bluestreak, you know gambling isn’t allowed!”

“I know, but us guys gotta have fun sometimes. Besides, Prowl knows about it. Just as long as he doesn’t physically see us gambling, there’s nothing to worry about. Anyway, I’m not the only victim. Sunstreaker lost more than half, Beachcomber lost nearly all his, and even Cliffjumper lost all his credits. And Brawn,” he gave a sharp laugh. “Brawn betted his lucky washer that belonged to his creator.”

“No wonder why he was yelling at everyone,” Jen mused.

Bluestreak gave a worried frown at her expression. “You’re up to something. The last time you had that look you pulled a fast one on Jazz…and got away with it no less!”

She cocked a brow. “You honestly think I’m wasting multiple hours of my life reading ‘Twilight’ for fun? Anyway, I think I might know how to help you.”

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Smokescreen just had to laugh at the human’s meek appearance. “You want to win everybody’s credit, by beating me?”

“Well,” she shuffled her foot. “At least Brawn’s lucky washer. Winning some money would be a nice bonus too.”

“Ha!” The mech had to chuckle at her naivety. “Sweetie, do you know who I am? I am a con man. Gambling is my thing. I eat, sleep, and breathe it. Not to mention you don’t have any credits to begin with.”

Jen snapped her fingers and Noshe jumped up on one of the chairs, and dropped a huge bag, too big and bulky for Jen to carry herself, on the table. The dark blonde opened the bag and pale purple discs came rolling out.

“Interesting,” the blue Praxian leaned back. “Where did you get the credits? Cause the last time I checked, you had your pocket full of paper you humans called money.”

“Are you going to accept my challenge or not?”

He laughed. “Human, do you even know how to play 5 card stud?”

“Sorta. It’s been a while though.”

“Hmm,” he looked down at her again. She had such an adorable determine look to her. “Tell you what. Since you’re young and naïve, I’ll be a good sport and take it easy on you for the first couple rounds. Just to help refresh your memory, cause I’m a nice guy like that.”

Smokescreen heard a snort from one of the mechs in the distance, but he didn’t bother looking for the source. “But I’m warning you, you are no match for my street smarts.”

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Smokescreen could not believe it. What started off as a human being utterly clueless, just flipped the proverbial light-switch and ended up winning everything. Smokescreen mentally slapped himself. He was the Ark’s closest thing to a psychiatrist, and he allowed a human to hustle him. It wasn’t even a good hustle either. It was his fault for thinking humans were not capable of meeting a Cybertronian on the same level intellectually. Primus, he let his pride get to him and allowed a human to get the better of him. Jen’s slight mischievous look after the third round should have warned him.

The crowd that had gather around them was cheering Jen on. Brawn even lightly bumped her shoulder with his knuckle. “It was a good game Smokescreen,” Jen said with a sincere friendly smile. “I’m sorry I forgot to tell you that my grandpa was a professional poker player.”

Of course her grandcreator would teach her a few tricks of the trade. He sighed. “I should have known better than to underestimate you. You’re smarter than you let on. Sneaky. I hope you continue using that to your advantage. It’ll save your life one day.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Oh, I’m upset,” he stood up. “But I know a worthy player when I see one. Well done. But I’m warning you, I won’t be a fool the next time you join me for a game. Fair warning.”

Smokescreen watched on as the dark blonde return everybody’s credits and Brawn’s lucky washer. He noticed there were quite a few credits left over. “And what exactly are you going to do with those?” he asked with mild amusement.

“I have my reasons,” she shrugged and threw the bag on Noshe. With a small salute she left the room.

&&&

“I see ya got that taken care of,” Jazz remarked while casually sitting on his desk. Jen had also joined him, legs dangling off the side. Jazz was counting the credits, putting them into his subspace. He took a few credits out and set them into a bag, which he handed to Jen.

“For ya good work.”

“Thank you, but I can’t use them,” she was slightly confused.

He smirked. “Ya never know. They could come in handy someday,” he then tapped her head with his finger. “An’ fer future references, when a Cybertronian gifts ya something, don’t question it.”

She gazed up at him with a small smile forming. “Thank you. So does this mean I can stop reading ‘Twilight’?”

He beamed down. “Anything for mah little operative. And I don’t think so.”