Straight Scrap

-- Radio: Global -- Override says, "So I hear this 'Hot Rod' guy is trouble."
-- Radio: Global -- Whirl says, "He is."
-- Radio: Global -- Whirl says, "But it's a fun kind of trouble."
-- Radio: Global -- Swivel says, "Oh, yeah, sometimes 'e kin be."
-- Radio: Global -- Swivel says, "But e's got 'is spark in th'roight place."
-- Radio: Global -- Whirl says, "Personally, I think he's a pretty cool dude. I'm probably not supposed to say that because he's a 'terrorist' or whatever, but I had a good ol' time hanging out with him."
-- Radio: Global -- Override says, "Hmm. So... would you say he knows the straight scrap about life on this clusterfrag?"
-- Radio: Global -- Swivel says, "Uh..."
-- Radio: Global -- Swivel says, "Maybe?"
-- Radio: Global -- Whirl says, "Yes."
-- Radio: Global -- Swivel says, "I's NO idear wot yer askin'."
-- Radio: Global -- Whirl says, "I think it would be beneficial to seek him out."
-- Radio: Global -- Swivel says, "But carefully."
-- Radio: Global -- Whirl says, "Yeaahhh."
-- Radio: Global -- Whirl says, "We can get into a lot of trouble just talking about it but whatever, my whole life is trouble so I don't care, but you may think differently"
-- Radio: Global -- Override says, "Yeah well"
-- Radio: Global -- Override says, "I don't plan on assimilating. I am -not- a Cybertronian. I am a -Velocitronian-."
-- Radio: Global -- Whirl says, "Uh, okay."
-- Radio: Global -- Whirl says, "Then I guess just keep doing what you're doing."
-- Radio: Global -- Swivel says, "I 'member one time, fore I 'eard 'bout 'is status ta terrorist I 'ad a d'livery fer 'im. So's I deliver it. an' wot 'appens? I's gets in th'middle of 'em tryin' t'arrest 'im an' tha' got ugly fast. I mean, yeah, they gotter make sure I 'ent a terrorist too, I unnerstand 'at... it's jus' not worth the trouble ta get in their sights, is all."
-- Radio: Global -- Override says, "I'm gonna go look for this guy."
-- Radio: Global -- Swivel says, "Jus' watch yerself if ya do."
-- Radio: Global -- Override says, "There isn't a bot on this planet that can catch me if I don't want to be caught."
-- Radio: Global -- Whirl says, "Pffffffffffffffffffffffffft."
-- Radio: Global -- Swivel says, "I ent jus worryin' 'bout ya bein' caught."
-- Radio: Global -- Whirl says, "I don't really give a scrap if you get caught or not."
-- Radio: Global -- Whirl says, "So do whatever."
-- Radio: Global -- Whirl says, "Oh, but if you do find him, tell him Whirl says SUP."
-- Radio: Global -- Override says, "Sure thing."
 
Override is in Nyon faster than you can say 'Was that Blurr?'. Zooming down the streets and leaving a whirlwind behind her that kicks up the dust, she slides into the Rust Narrows. It looks like a bad part of town. Coincidentally, it also looks like a good place to practice.
She transforms and that last thought both angers and depresses her. She needs to race, she needs to get home, she needs to get her people home - she can't do any of these things. Responsibility weighs heavily on her, and if she's going to figure out what to do first, she has to learn how bad things really are on this planet.
As the dust settles in Override's wake, what people remember is the speed of her passage, not the color of her paint. Word slips from femme to femme to mech to one mech in particular. Hot Rod stands on an overpass at a distance, red and painted with flames that make him pretty identifiable.
The overpass curves down to join the main road to one side, while the other is splintered and broken so long ago that the rest of the roadway isn't even visible. Once Hot Rod's gets a look at her, it's clear that Override, whoever she isn't, isn't Blurr. Curiosity drives him down and around in a lazy stroll. "You've got some moves," he calls with a friendliness that contains no concept of stranger danger, despite all his tangles with the law.
"A few," Override agrees with an (over)confident air. "Nice paint," she comments, noticing that immediately on Hot Rod. Not that you could really ignore that design. "You race?"
Hot Rod grins. "Thanks." It is pretty hard to miss, what with the red and the orange and the yellow and the /flames/ and the /spoiler/. "Yeah, a bit. There are some local tracks, a lot of fun." Given that everything seems to be ruin and rust, his assertion that there are local tracks deserves a bit of doubt. "You obviously must."
"Hah! What was your first clue?" She isn't trying to be sarcastic but yeah, the ego's showing. "Name's Override. If you were listening to the open channels I'm not from around here. I'm looking for someone named Hot Rod, word has it that he's pretty knowledgeable about the truth of what's going on around this planet." Hot Rod? There's your cue.
"It was the flames," Hot Rod says with a deadpan that's ruined by the widening of his grin. "You just didn't /look/ like someone happy standing still."
Hot Rod's expression tips wry and he spreads his hands wide, stepping forward into his cue as though he expects a spotlight to strike his mark from above. "That's me. As much as anyone knows the truth, yeah, I've got it. You're not going to get it on open channels, though. We've actually still got pretty spotty communications around here. Cops tried to shut us down by killing the comm towers. But good to meet you, Override. If you came out this far, you've probably already figured that about the open channels."
"Yeah, this place is a mess. Police state run by a military dictatorship - I don't know if you pay much attention to colony news but I think one of my rivals back home has decided to make sure I don't get back home in time for the elections on Velocitron," Override explains. "I got the official sales pitch on how great everything is under this little Prime-based junta by some of the government agents listening to the open airwaves, but I wanted to talk to someone who is on the outs with the present regime." She points a finger at Hot Rod. "That's why I came looking for you."
"You don't have to tell me it's a mess." Hot Rod angles his head in a gesture and falls in next to Override. Not going anywhere in particular, he just walks to walk. The urge to move is surely one she can appreciate. "I don't know a whole lot about the colonies," he admits, "although I've got some friends from them. If you're here, you're not getting back, not easily. Not with this Clampdown. Government agents listening and direction conversations on the open airwaves is just the start of it. It all comes down to control. The people in charge are terrified of change, so they try to lock everything down in the name of order, but it's only making things worse."
"Well, let me give you the run down on my situation, then," Override offers, walking alongside Hot Rod. Movement is good... even if it's sluggish bot-form movement. "What I'm going to tell you isn't something I can just blat out on the open airwaves. I'm certain that the Senate here is aware of the situation, otherwise they wouldn't have threatened to revoke the immunity status of Velocitronians."
"See, there's really -nothing- on Velocitron but raceways. It wasn't intended to be anything more than a way-station when the space bridge network was running, but because it was well-suited for racing, a lot of enthusiasts moved there. Most of the planet has been terraformed for roads and speed. There's not much in the way of resources, so we started inviting other species to participate and watch as spectators. That's what provides the money and fuel we need to keep going - tourism. With the Clampdown being issued from on high here, and Cybertron cutting itself off from the rest of the galaxy, well... that put our homeworld in a bind."
She continues. Let's hope Hot Rod can soak this in. "So the Galactic Council offered us full member status if Velocitron breaks away from Cybertron, declares independence; we'll have all the fuel and resources we need, and if Sentinel tries to take an army after us we'll have the GC defending us. With low resources we didn't have much of a choice to break away... but we were going to wait. Wait until all our people here were offworld." She makes a grim face. "My competetor in the next election-race, Ransack? Jumped the gun."
That's a lot of words. Her faith in Hot Rod's ability to not only pay attention, but follow along and /absorb/ is surely strained by the way he latches on to one key point: "Wait, the /whole place/ is just raceways? That sounds amazing." His expression lights with enthusiasm as he just /imagines/.
Then he goes, "Who's the Galactic Council?" Hot Rod is great at politics. "So you guys broke away already? Are you stuck, then?"
There is a momentary feeling of horror in Override when she realizes that Hot Rod may be young and ignorant. Or that he may represent the general level of naivete` the entire planet has when it comes to what's going on beyond its atmospheric borders. "The Galactic Council is a group of sentient races that manage peace, trade and territory disputes among themselves. Because of Nova Prime, Cybertronians are a blacklisted species - they aren't going to help you when another species invades, declares war, or when you need to evacuate."
The transformation plates on Override's shoulders and back shift back and forth in frustration, fast enough that they look like they're fluttering. Her engine revs. Huff. "Ransack convinced the council back home to break away, and it's -very- convenient for him. After all, it means I'm stranded here and can't win the Speedia. I could forgive him trying to ace me out of the race, but leaving all our people in Little Delta stranded here too? There aren't words for how angry that makes me."
In the face of Override's horror, Hot Rod presents only expectant cheer. "Oh," he says. "Cool. Well, not the part where we're blacklisted, I guess. Seriously? Is this because of the Primal Vanguard thing?" He says that a little bit smugly, as though he expects to be congratulated for knowing what is probably basic history facts off-planet.
His smug air fades in the face of Override's anger, and Hot Rod's expression draws sympathetic. "Sounds like he was out for his own benefit over what was actually good for his people -- which is basically what you're going to run into here, with the Senate. Little Delta's in Ibex, right?" Expression reserved, Hot Rod says, "You might want to get them out of there. The IAA has some shady stuff going on, and if your people are losing protection and status, you're going to need to find protection for them."
"That's where I'm stuck. I don't have the status or push I used to. Maybe I could have arranged for a shuttle for them to get them offworld, but now? ... I have nothing. It's only thanks to someone else that I even have a place to stay." Her mood swings sour and worried. "And yeah... we're stuck in Ibex. I've been warned about the IAA repeatedly, so they're not an option. They've been trying to make sponsorship deals with me - wouldn't let me race on their tracks without their approval and signing on a dotted line."
"I'm not sure what to do. I could sacrifice myself to get them offworld, but I can only do that once, and if I'm doublecrossed... I help no one. And I don't know this planet well enough to find shelter for several hundred people."
Hot Rod laughs with a somewhat smirkish cast to his expression. "Repeatedly, huh? At least you're getting good advice." He glances down the street and then back to Override. "I know a few smugglers, but they mostly work on Cybertron. I can put you in touch with them, see if they can get you to the right people. It's a risk. Doesn't mean it might not be worth it, but if I were you, I wouldn't trust the Senate not to shoot first."
Swinging around, Hot Rod slaps one of the fallen columns that they pass with a ringing strike of metal. "Then there's Nyon, of course. You want to hide, you wouldn't be the only ones hiding on these streets. Safer than Ibex, but moving's another risk." He pats the column, then continues on. "Maybe you just want to keep them where they are, but it's not just shelter that's going to be a problem. It's fuel. Ibex is where the money is, but there are races /all/ over."
"They want to process us," Override says after thinking on Hot Rod's words. "Force us to get an 'assessment', fit into 'castes'. I don't know if I can ask my people to do that in good conscience. It feels like putting ourselves under the wheels of a road paver and hoping it doesn't move."
"Of course they do." Hot Rod sounds entirely unsurprised. Briefly, he sounds weary, then he shakes his head and grins. "It'll move, you know. It'll roll right over you as soon as it's convenient to do so. What about your people, though? What do they think? I've been ... reminded that some people prefer working in the system. I wouldn't ask them to either, if they were my people. But maybe you can give them a choice: freedom, or order."
The fembot nods. "I'll ask them. I just want to have options for them when they ask questions. If it takes me laying down and letting the paver have me for their sake, well, that's what a leader has to be prepared to do."
"Except /this/ paver would just be happy to run right over you and onto them, no matter what they tell you," Hot Rod says, fierce in his doubt and suspicion. "Don't trust any deals. If you need space in Nyon, I can help you find it. Space is one thing we're not short on, anyway."
"I'll see what they want to do. Those of us that still consider ourselves Ogygia's decendants will work together. When we want to move ... well, no offense, but no one on this planet can catch us." Override's own fiery nature seems to be matching up with Hot Rod. Trouble is contagious.
Hot Rod grins, quick to warm again. "I'd say that sounds like a challenge, but I heard about how fast you came in. I might give that one to you. /Maybe/. Unless you're just good for a nice, smooth, flat track, and have trouble on real roads," he says with an air of friendly teasing. "If you ever find you're in trouble and need help getting out of a tight spot, let me know. Nothing I like more than helping other people dodge consequences -- and what happened to you guys isn't fair. I've had enough of people getting caught up in political squabbles and hurt."
This is the little strand of hope Override needed to hang on to. "Me too. Velocitron will get the help it needs from the Galactic Council for now, and I can always catch the next election Speedia when I get back. Maybe I ought to hang around and pitch in with those of you that are looking for a better form of government. Seems fair, considering the help you're willing to give."
"Hard to imagine that there's really some big galactic council out there, and they're helping the colonies, but they aren't helping us." Hot Rod seems only distantly bothered by this, but it's pretty clear there's a thorn in there that's hooked deep. /It's not fair/. After a moment, his expression flickers again to a smile. "Problem for someone else, I guess. We're focused on helping people here, now. There are a lot of people out there who think they know what a better form of government looks like. Question is what it looks like to you, and what you're willing to do to make it happen."
"Well... we elect our leaders," Override explains. "People get a choice in who leads them. How does that sound to you?"
"Better than that slag," Hot Rod says with the hook of his hand back over his shoulder and in the general direction of Iacon. Boo, Iacon. "So how do you make sure it's fair?"
"Well, we decide it by a race. If we have a tie, we have two leaders that have to share. Kinda like... co-captains," Override says. "But that's how we all agreed to elect our leaders. There isn't a perfect system of government, Hot Rod. That would require perfect bots. Those don't exist." She grins. "But letting the people pick their leaders seems to have a better stab a peace than a tyranny."
Hot Rod looks somewhat doubtful. "I don't know. Maybe it's just because of the IAA here, or -- maybe it's because I'm not even the fastest among my friends," he's aware enough to admit with a smile, "--but I don't think that system would work so great here. But I bet you don't have associations and companies out there who are busy building a faster, stronger racer that they can control, huh? It used to be better, you know. A long time ago, before the Knights of Cybertron left." He presents bedtime stories as fact. "Now we're stuck with this. Look -- if you really want to help, there's no corner on Cybertron you won't find someone who needs it. Starting with Ibex, ending with Nyon."
"Is that what's wrong with Blurr? Because I keep hearing his mind is messed up, it's the IAA's fault, and he's a kidnapper and killer," Override questions. "I thought he was just an idiot."
"Maybe different people require different governments. Me, I don't care if they're the Knights Who Say Knee - the idea of having some permanent life-long leader - or leaders - sounds like a recipe for disasters. But if that's what works here? I'll do what I can to help you get 'em. Deal?"
"Yeah." Hot Rod looks down, then lifts his gaze with a stubborn set to his features. "Yeah, that's what's wrong with Blurr. It's his handlers in the IAA." He's blisteringly quick to shift the blame off his BFF. Ex-BFF. Okay, maybe just ... ex-friend. "They want to be able to control the races, so they made Blurr. They're using the same stuff that the Senate was using to rewrite dissenters to make Blurr their agent. He's not an idiot. He's just being used. It's the risk you run if you get too involved with the Ibex tracks."
Tipping his shoulder, Hot Rod admits, "I don't know a lot about the kinds of government. This has been all I've known. Maybe you can help us find something else, though."
Override listens to Hot Rod and ponders over the situation with Blurr. He's fast -- could the IAA have been planning to use him to take over the Speedia for their own ends? Galactic credits go farther than shanix. It makes too much sense, but it's nothing more than a theory for now. "Sounds like a good deal then. Mind if I hang around? I'll take earning my keep over being put up in a hostel any day."
"Cool with me," says Hot Rod with a grin. "Why don't you take a few days to look around, see what you think? If you're as fast as I think, earning your keep won't be hard. We actually run a lot of stuff past, around, or through Senate controls to get Nyon what it needs. So I'll see if we've got anything coming up that could really use a /fast/ run, and in the meantime, you can check things out and see if you want to work with us longer term?"
Override grins back. "You got it." She extends a hand to Hot Rod to shake on it.
Even in the backwater of Nyon, they understand handshakes. Hot Rod meets Override's hand with an easy clasp and a brisk shake. He might be kind of ??what is the galactic council?? and ??politics??, but at least he has a sure and confident handshake. "And definitely check out the races," Hot Rod adds, giving her time and place of the next underground match.
"Check it out? You'll have to break my legs to keep me out of it!" Override laughs.