Troubles in Trouble

So. Hot Rod's a criminal now. And he's not just any criminal -- he's a terrorist. A SUPER terrorist. SO BAD. He should probably go into hiding.
So you know what he's not doing? That.
Hot Rod is seated on the steps of what was once perhaps an museum or an art gallery but has long since been looted and reduced to empty halls and high ceilings. The murals inside are faded, worn away to nothing, while the murals outside are freshly painted Decepticon recruitment slogans and icons. He's waiting with unusual patience. "Did he say what it was about?" he asks Swivel.
There is a shrug from Swivel. She'd not been in Nyon long herself, having to make her way there from Dead End. She hasn't heard about Hot rod's bump to Terrorism just yet... which is probably for the best. "Naw... but I gots a guess," Swivel responds. She is leaning against a nearby pillar. She looks like she wants to be pacing, but she is conserving her energy.
It doesn't take particularly long for YX-939 to show up. It's HOW he shows up that might raise a brow or two. See that manhole cover over there? The rusted over thing? It pops right out. Slides over. And there pops out that little disposable YX unit, bearing ridiculous goggles over his optics and covered in the usual gunk. Maybe more than the usual gunk. Once he spots Hot Rod and Swivel, he climbs out, replaces the manhole cover, and walks on over. He smells a little off; he also doesn't look very happy. "Hi." Pensive, really.
"What's the guess?" But he's hardly had a chance to ask it when the special guest arrives. "Hey, Y. Pull up a seat." Hot Rod stretches out his legs and glances down the street before looking back at YX-939. His smile is easy in the face of that pensive air. He doesn't seem surprised to see YX-939 climbing out of tunnels, but then, he spends a lot of time below ground too. --just not as much as YX-939. /No one/ spends that much time underground.
No one except the custodians of the underground.
Swivel rubs her upper arms as her attention falls upon YX-939. "'Ullo thar," Swivel greets. She smiles a little, but then wears her serious, attentive face. "Ready t'tell us 'bout..." Swivel trails off as she rotates her wrist in the air.
Well, of course no one spends as much time underground as the sewer bots; it was what they did. And it seems that recent underground work has been messier than usual; YX-939 pulls the goggles over his optics to reveal a slightly different hue. Oh, the goggle lenses were all dirty; probably why he was wearing them.
"Group Five got back to me. They got in to the laboratory place you were talking about." He shifts in place. "They said they were taking SPARKS out of people and putting them in boxes. Your friends' spark, too. They said they SAW it. Blurr, the blur racer guy, he killed one of them. They think because they saw, but the others got away." His optics are quite wide, now.
Hot Rod's smile fades. He's still a moment, then shifts, sitting forward and then standing. "Of /course/. Why not. Just -- pull the sparks out and box them up. /Primus/." He kicks at a bit of rubble which flies down the street, but it's clearly not satisfying enough. He paces just a step away before coming back around to face YX-939.
"Y, I'm so sorry about your friend," Hot Rod says, sympathy cutting past the first rise of anger. "How are the others? They're probably in danger if he saw the rest of them. Do they need anything?"
There is a look of concern on Swivel's face as she listens which steadily changes to outright fear. She could get angry, but Hot Rod is there for that. Instead she walks over to YX-939 and places her hands firmly upon his shoulders. "I...I shooda ne'er e'en put the idea in yer 'ead to tell 'em to check out Ibex." She glances over her shoulder at Hot Rod. The guilt is both of theirs to bare. Sure, it was their choice to go for it, but one who lives in servitude are used to just doing what other people tell them to. Was it really an informed choice? Swivel looks back at Spritz. "Spritz. O'Rod's right... they may all be in danger."
YX-939 shifts in place at Hot Rod's mentioning of the surviving units. "...The weirdest, kinda saddest thing is, they were really big fans of Blurr. Huge. They're taking the fact that he tried to kill them harder than anything else." A pause. "They had a bonfire to burn all the souvenirs from the races with Blurr on them." A thoughtful expression crosses his face. "I'm not sure if Blurr knows which one was them. Sometimes, people can't tell us apart. Hopefully this time, too."
Brushing a hand down his side, Hot Rod smiles in a brief, bitter twist. "Yeah. Me too. The IAA may be using Blurr. He may be doing it of his own free will. I don't know anymore. I do know that he's dangerous, though, and they need to be careful." He sits again near YX-939. "If they need a place to lie low, or have trouble getting enough fuel because of this, let me know, okay? I'll make sure that they are taken care of, since I asked them to do this. Did they manage to get any footage or data or anything?"
"Mmmm proof'd be real useful..." Swivel remarks. She can ust envision how devastated the group 5 cleaners must be. She herself was a bit unpset, as she had herself had admired Blurr when he was just a celebrity. Once he became Blurr the spy...well... Swivel didn't go burning Blurr memorbelia, but she didn't own any. More apprehension crosses Swivel's face. Hot Rod can offer help, penitence, but what can she do? Perhaps... perhaps she did know someone who could maybe help. This was something that needed to get out. Someone more organised than Hot Rod.
YX-939 frowns at Hot Rod. "No footage. Where would we even PUT a camera without anyone seeing it?" A sigh. "Would've been nice, but it's not exactly part of our jobs to have a camera. They said they saw an empty get their spark taken out and that the names on the boxes had numbers, too."
"That's okay." Hot Rod makes an easy gesture when YX-939 frowns. "It would've been nice, though. I'll put word out on the Nyon datanet, though. Even without proof, people need to know. If they can show me how they got in and make a map as best they remember, I'll see about getting more proof."
Getting more proof at what cost? Swivel thinks this, but has given up asking these things questions to Hot Rod. He'll just make her feel bad about herself. Just like Blurr. Swivel gives a gentle squeeze to Spritz's shoulders before releasing them. She doesn't say anything though as she steps away. "NUttin' I kin do buh' offer m'condolences... O'Rod..." She loks at Hot Rod, "will do everythin' 'e kin t'elp if they're in danger." Swivel backs away a little more. She remains in sight but seems to want some space.
YX-939 says "They told me they, uhm... Walked in." A shrug. "Through a back door. And cleaned things. People don't really... Notice us when we clean." A deep breath. "I'm starting to get really worried. ARE we in danger? We're usually ignores, but now people are LOOKING at us and it's not always bad or anything, but... I'm getting scared.""
"I'll do what I can," Hot Rod agrees with a nod at Swivel. "Just let me know." His brow furrows and he releases a long vent of a sigh at YX-939's question. "Yeah. I'm sorry, but you are. You've /been/ in danger, to tell the truth, but it's only going to get worse. I know that we don't have a lot of options or a lot of choices, so it can be easy to feel scared. If it'll help, I can get someone to show you guys how to take care of yourself -- I'd say how to get away and run, but I feel like you've already learned that plenty. And you came by tunnels, so you probably already know that's safer. It can help make it a little less scary."
Taking just a few more steps off, Swivel sits down and rests her elbows on her lap. Occasionally if someone glances at her her lips are moving a bit but she doesn't seem to be speaking.
Poor YX-939 looks so lost; he blinks worriedly at Hot Rod's suggestion. "... Run? What do you mean? Run away? And go WHERE? We have jobs and overseers and they'd notice if their entire work force just up and vanished...!" He looks like he might start hyperventilating.
"Only if someone tries to hurt you," Hot Rod says firmly, steady where YX-939 looks like he's getting a panic on. "Just learning to take care of yourself in case something bad /does/ happen. And if it comes to the rest -- well, like I said. Let me know, and I'll take care of you," he promises. "Okay?" He doesn't pay much attention to Swivel, who is left free to talk to herself.
YX-939 is still staring at Hot Rod. "Just run if that thing with Blurr happens again? Okay... Okay..." A pause. "...But I don't think you can help with the rest. There's a THOUSAND of us."
"So take one out of every crew, have them learn -- maybe not from me, but someone, somewhere, and then have them teach the others," Hot Rod says with a brief smile. "That's what I've been doing with people in Nyon. I can't teach everyone. Well, I can't teach anyone, really," he admits with a broad shrug, "but I've got a friend who can. So she teaches people, and they teach others."
Still, YX-939 looks uneasy. He starts to pace, walking back and forth in front of Hot Rod and Swivel a couple of steps away. He looks so small. "We gotta lay low for a while. I mean, my guys. The others. We can't keep putting our necks out."
"Okay." Hot Rod watches YX-939 pace without moving to stop him. He can appreciate the value of a good pace. He just says, "Take care of yourselves, and let me know if you need anything."
YX-939 keeps pacing. Back and forth, back and forth. "It's lucky the supervisors are pretty loose with us. If they knew what we were doing, I don't know what'd happen. So we just gotta."
He might be ranting now just to get it all out. Did he even hear Hot Rod?
Swivel stands up again. She looks between Hot Rod and Spritz a few times. "Layin' low's th'best y'kin do f'now." The femme shakes her head and falls in step with Spritz's pacing. "An' dun b'fraid t'seek 'elp.... but.... an' I 'ate bein' th'one t'say this... but dun seek it from ther law fer now... unless 'O'rod says their legit."
"There are a few Autobots that are worth talking to," Hot Rod admits after a glance at Swivel. "And if you want to know who, I'd be happy to tell you. But be careful." While YX-939 continues to pace and rant, he lets him get it out of his system. He glances along the street and then back up toward the sky, still keeping a clear eye out for something beyond this little unfortunate update.
"Gonna have to spread the word to be really low key..." Oh dear, now YX-939 is talking to himself. Poor Spritz. Maybe he does this as a bad habit, though. "'Cause a lot of the others can be a bit jumpy and we can't be jumpy now. Gotta be SUPER careful..."
"SUPER DUPER careful," Swivel choruses. She continues to walk along side of Spritz. "Look... Spritz. SPRITZ" Swivel claps her hands to try and get the mech's attention.
YX-939 jumps at the clap; he turns to Swivel, looking stunned. "What? What? Is something happening?!"
"You aren't, like, short-circuiting, are you?" asks Hot Rod with deep empathy.
"What?" Spritz looks a bit flustered now. "What? Short-circuiting? Why would I be short-circuiting?" He seems to be calming down a little, though. "I'm fine!" Mostly.
Swivel puts a hand on Spritz's shoulder again. "There's stuff t'be done t'try 'an keep y'selves as safe as possible... but thin's jus' got serious fer all ya. I've been there. Ignorant, unaware... 'en suddenly, I was pulled inter sumtin'... now I kint look th'other way." Swivel glances over at Hot Rod meaningfully. Didn't he say something similar at some point. She looks back at Spritz. "But not ev'ryone's a fighter, so dun feel 'shamed if ya jus' wanner 'ide an not get any more involved. I wunna blame ya, coz tha's 'ow I feel."
Hot Rod gives Swivel a somewhat startled glance as she speaks to Spritz. He starts to say something only to stop himself with obvious effort. In the end, he just kind of grinds his gears and says, "Glad you're fine, then," to YX-939.
The poor little disposable that could; Spritz seems to deflate at Swivel's words. "...I don't want to fight if I don't have to. I don't think I'd be very good at it."
Then, he looks at Hot Rod. "Not everybody's brave."
Swivel straightens up, almost as if she can hear Hot Rod grinding his gears, and otherwise holding back. She looks over at Hot Rod with an odd, almost appreciative smile. "Bu' more 'portant... dun 'tray yerself. An' bein' brave 'ent always 'bout runnin' inter the fire... sometimes it's knowin' 'en t'say 'No'... An' sometimes... it's knowin' 'en t'let other peeps think ya th'fool or th'coward." She ruffles some of his cleaning bristles playfully.
"I'll do whatever I can to make sure you don't have to," Hot Rod promises. He returns YX-939's gaze with a slight nod. "But I bet you're braver than you give yourself credit for."
Unlike Hot Rod, Moonlight isn't always so brazen and direct...at least, not when she's working. Whatever moral greyness she indulges in, she has a pretty good work ethic. Anyhow. Eventually the muted sounds of a 'copter can be heard above; Moonlight's dark colors blend in with the darkness of the sky. (Because the sky always seems to be dark on Cybertron...go figure.) Setting down behind the building, she sends a message to Hot Rod stating she's there. Or, at least, giving the vague impression that she's there. You never know who is listening, right? Right.
YX-939 doesn't seem put off by the playful ruffle of his bristles; in fact, he seems to enjoy it and even leans in to it. "I don't think I'm a fool or a coward, though..." He IS, however, sounding more like himself. "I just... I just rather not die in a horrific and possibly impossible manner."
Hot Rod looks up at the sound of a 'copter above and smiles for no reason at all. "And there's my other appointment," he says. Glancing from Swivel to YX-939, he tilts his head. "That sounds pretty terrible to me, too." He swings off around the side of the building, picking his way past rubble. He comms an acknowledgment of her vague impression, then calls, "So, what'd you bring me?" as he comes around into her line of sight.
Spritz leaning into her ruffling only encourages her to bring another hand around to scruff the bristles on his other arm. this also makes her smile despite the severity of the situation, but if she spent her time always frowning and worrying, life wouldn't really be worth living. "Na... yer not. Yer brave considerin' where ya came from. I mean... fer a s'posable, it was brave o' ya to e'en come wi'me to the bar, brave ta e'en suggest th'others spy... brave t'come outter the tunnels t'tell us 'bout this." She doesn't care that she's flinging gunk everywhere as she scratches him along the brooms on his arms. "'Sides..." she gives a sly glance to Hot Rod, "DOin' the roight thin' is fightin' fer those 'o can't fight for 'emselves, yeah? So if there's none 'oo kint fight for 'emselves, tha' sortter 'eroics become sorter moot." She laughs a little as she glances up, wondering why Hot Rod keeps glancing up.
Moonlight is settling down her rotors now, the buzz turning to a soft hum, then a whirr, then falling silent. "A little of this and a little of that. You have folks of all sizes working with you, right? So I brought along some of the weapons that I had for organics, a lot of them are the same size as your littel friend Rewind. Not sure how often you folks on Cybertron arm the small ones." She doesn't say it with any particular scorn; just stating a fact. "Other than that, well, I've got things for disruption, things for accuracy, and fire. Fire works on almost everything. Kinda a universal go to." Pause. "Unless you're fighting things that are from volcanoes." She loses where she is on the list and falls silent for a bit.
It was earlier today that the first messages started, the ones that announced Hot Rod being the most wanted criminal in Nyon. The message that spoke of the creation of the Special Crimes Unit of the Nyon Police Department - one given one task: apprehend Hot Rod at all costs. So, day one of such a proclamation and what action has the N.P.D. taken thus far? Perhaps it was only a scare tactic.
There is a soft *whoop*whoop* in the distance and should a bot look, a helicopter can be spotted in the sky, some distance out. It never gets closer, however. Maybe Whirl has come back to Nyon already?
Under that chopper, from the road to the city proper, a plume of kicked up dust indicates that someone(s) are headed this way.
"Actually, yeah." Hot Rod agrees with Swivel with a strong touch of earnest belief: "Not everyone can or should have to fight. It's a good thing to remember." He turns his attention then to Moonlight and her toys, greeting her with a wide smile. He moves readily into warm welcome. "Organics? They get that small?" They get /smaller/ Hot Rod. Isn't that weird? "That sounds fantastic. A lot of the smaller disposables have probably never been armed at all." As he only ordered /one/ helicopter, the addition of a second has him glancing up. He casts a questioning look at Moonlight, asking, "You bring someone else with the rest?"
At the mention of arming disposables, YX-939 just STARES. His optics go super wide, agape in incredulity at Hot Rod and the new arrival.
It's almost comical how he looks, really. The very IDEA... Giving him a weapon? Him? Little ol' Spritz?
He manages to gape hard enough that his goggles slip right back over his optics. Thunk.
Indeed, arming disposables. That could get dangerous. Not that Swivel would think of it that way. After all, she herself has an odd supersition about handling weapons will just put her in harm's way more often. Swivel snorts and lifts Spritz's goggles up after they slip back down. She then knocks on his head (she's sure butterfly wings won't sprout out at her this time). "Cybertron ta Spritzy!"
"Wha?" YX-939 snaps out of at the bonk on the noggin. "What? Oh." He slips the goggles even further up along his head. "I just... I don't... This is a terrible idea."
Moonlight makes a groaning sound. She was SO sure she had taken all the precautions. Perhaps it was an error that only someone who had been on Cybertron for a long time would have known about. "I certainly did not; I would have sent a message saying as much." Softly she curses. "Quick, get the boxes out; I'm not exactly well equipped to get into a conflict in this mode." Not unless she has a passenger in the back who is a crack-shot. Usually she would go into a lot of detail about various organics, but something tells her, now is not the time.
Those approaching aren't slowed by speculation. Hot Rod can ask but the answer as to who it might be will soon be upon him, and those with him. That other chopper keeps its distance however, hovering there just beyond normal optical range. Those dust plumes increase as two figures veer off, in other direction, to cut a wide circle around this gathering place. These two give a wide berth as they race away. Maybe it is a would-be crew out here looking to setup an illegal racing track?
That central plume, however, beelines towards this clandestine meeting. There are three figures there - one smaller and further back than the lead to (likely slower as well). Those lead two are a car, sleek and slick, and a truck, bulky and thick. They are mostly black with a few accents of white. Part of that white are three letters on their hoods. 'N', 'P' and 'D' - in that order.
The car gets there first, transforming into a very pissed off looking policebot. He is big, strong and imposing. He brings a rifle up to bear under his grin. "Oh, please resist. Hot Rod, you're coming with us or you're not leaving here."
"Right." Hot Rod moves to take the weapons from Moonlight while the other helicopter is just a distant noise. He doesn't open them. He doesn't throw a gun at YX-939. In fact, all he does with the boxes is drop them down an access to the tunnels beneath Nyon.
There's a flash of movement below and a smile from other troubles ready to move them. "Thanks!" calls up a femme's voice, before they are moved out of the way.
Hot Rod's only just helped Moonlight unload the last and shove it oh-so-inconspicuously down a hole when the cop transforms.
Hot Rod considers the armor, the rifle, the grin. He glances to the side. "Uhm. No thanks!" He throws himself to the side and out of the line of fire, pulling Moonlight with him.
"Yeah.... bad idea.... 'less there're sparkeatin' 'secticon's bout." Another ruffle. Why not add a bit of levity to counter the underlying fear and tension? However, that cheerfulness drops when she realises that a group of enforcers had arrived. She squints a bit, but then widens her optics. "Spritz. Manhole. Now," Swivel whisper to Spritz as she calmly moves to place herself in the field of view between Spritz and the armed police. HOpefully, though, they'll be too preoccupied with getting Hot Rod. For what reason, Swivel isn't sure. She's a bit out of the loop due to her fainting act over in Vos.
Police bots. Sirens. Orders to not resist. Sure, they were only aimed at Hot Rod, but that didn't mean that ol' Spritz couldn't panic all on his own! That was an ENFORCER! A really angry one!
Oh, but Swivel was giving him an order. Good. He doesn't even think about it; he just turns and runs for the manhole cover!
Moonlight transforms the MOMENT she feels the last of the cargo get taken out; she likes how useful her alt-mode is, but she doesn't actually enjoy staying in it for very long. "Hey, now, no need for that sort of..." And then she's pulled away by Hot Rod. So much for talking this one out. Mr. Action Hero has to get all crazy. Sigh. Since things are going to be /this/ way, she reaches down to hover a hand over her trusty blaster.
"Hondo, now," barks that lead copbot, as he opens fire himself on Hot Rod. Or rather where Hot Rod had just been. That gunfire will be loud and sound powerful as it rips the ground it strikes to shreds. Behind him the chopper drops from the skies as it also transforms, a long-barreled gun in its hands. "This is Special Crimes Unit commander Patdown," snarls the cop as he advances on the ruins Hot Rod has hidden behind. "It will be my pleasure to bring your lifeless husk back to Breach."
"Arsenal, get your aft in gear," he barks further. "Round up or kill the little ones," he gestures, towards the retreating Swivel and Spritz. Behind him the heavily armored truck transforms, to a rather large, bulky bot, that has a great number of weapons, including the large breaching shotgun in hand.
The air next to Moonlight is lit up with a *very* close shot from a sniper rifle. <<Land and surrender,>> radios that chopper, Hondo, to Moonlight. <<Hate to clip off those pretty propellers of yours."
What does Swivel do? She puts her hands up, but strafes just a little bit to continue to position herself between Spritz and danger. It's a good thing the hole he came from wasn't too far from where they were standing, so the mech has a chance to get away. As for Swivel, she never turned to run, just changed her position. Swivel's moves are slow and cautious. Her lips are moving but no sound is coming out. Perhaps she is praying to Primus. Perhaps it's a nervouse twitch.
"Maybe I should've mentioned, but they kind of want to arrest me. More than usual," Hot Rod mentions to Moonlight in a quick, apologetic aside. He's primed for more SUPER ACTION HERO BANTER right up until the cop shouts the order to go after Swivel and YX-939. "Hey! They don't have anything to do with this!" he calls around the cover he has taken. "Let them go." He pauses, mutters something that includes the word 'Shiftlock' and sounds a lot like a curse, then says, "I'm the one you want, right?"
Oh, spark, they were chasing him! Something was chasing him! Why did he walk so far from the manhole cover?! Why did he PUT IT BACK?
YX-939 flails with the cover, looks up for just a moment, and... Notices that Swivel isn't right behind him. She isn't running?
Spritz stops. He stands on the manhole cover. He looks indecisive and filled with panic.
"Anyone associated with you or your message you're spreading seems dangerous to me. Guilty as charged," decides Patdown as he advances on Hot Rod still. He empties one clip and pauses briefly to reload his weapon. "Sure we want you but that doesn't mean we're not going to take them all offline too."
Arsenal, the big bulky one moves as told and advances on Swivel and Spritz. That breaching shotgun is brought to bear on Swivel; pointed right at her. "Cuffs," Arsenal says. That's when that smaller, slower vehicle makes it to the rest. It is a small meter maid-esque cart, that unfolds to a tall, wirey female copbot with loooooong arms and pincher-like hands.
Kill the little ones? Moonlight is not impressed. The 'little ones' are cute and hardly a threat. But, at least now she knows that Hot Rod wasn't crazy: these guys are. "Yeah, I heard the report," she says. "I DIDN'T think 'arrest' was a euphemism for KILL ON SIGHT!" she vents.
"Yeah, Hot Rod is one guy; I'm not that guy, and neither are the others. You really can't miss him. Lively red and yellow paint job, cute smile, handsome figure. I could go on and on you know," Moonlight says to the police. So helpful. She gives Hot Rod an apologetic shrug.
YX-939 doesn't look like he knows what to do. His optics just scream PANIC. Then he sees the meter maid-esque femmebot and... Blinks. He tilts his head slightly, as if he gets an idea.
"E-excuse me?" So meek, so polite. "I-I... Am I under arrest?"
"Welcome to Cybertron!" Hot Rod laughs at Moonlight's outrage. It would be easy to mistake him for someone who is not taking this seriously at all. His eyes are bright, his tone is high, and he laughed -- he laughed! He tilts his head, listening to Patdown, and then sighs.
This is going to end badly. For Hot Rod.
"We could've been civil about this," Hot Rod says in a thoughtful tone, "but nooo." As Patdown reloads, he bursts out of cover, lunging to wrestle the cop's gun from him.
The sniper of the group, that chopper, Hondo radios to Moonlight. <<Aw, and here I was hoping you weren't really a part of this gang. I could spare you, we could go for drinks. But since not...>> He sighs and another shot comes from a long way off, narrowly missing her. <<Oops! Guess I shouldn't have gone for those drinks right before my shift! Hah. *hic* Stay still for a moment, would you dear?>>
As Arsenal keeps Swivel in sights of that shotgun, the lanky long-limbed Cuffs moves away from Swivel and advances on Spritz. "Something like that," she answers the surrendering mech. "If by arrest you mean execution." She even smiles as she politely reaches out try to take hold of his wrists.
As Hot Rod tackles him, Patdown... smiles! "That's it!" He chuckles himself, tossing his rifle aside as he is eager to get his hands on Hot Rod. "I was worried you didn't have any fight in you! Show me what you got before I put you DOWN!"
Shotgun? Yeah, Swivel has had worse pointed at her. Such as one of Starscream's sultry grins. Swivel remains still and does her best not to give any reasons to fire. Any justifiable ones. Although what Cuffs is saying to Spritz is not helping her confidence in the fairness of the law. However, she is close to cursing and chewing out Spritz. Perhaps you could say she was frothing with anger at his current stupidity, and it takes a lot to make Swivel that mad. But it's anger out of fear and concern, really.
"Sorry, guy, I'm just too jittery to stay still for you. I have dancin' feet," is Moonlight's response. "I'm not /really/ part of the gang," technically she isn't; she hasn't been given the secret handshake yet. More importantly, she doesn't have access to the base or it's engex when there is any.
She looks over at Cuffs and hisses softly. "You guys stack up pretty bad against other law enforcement in the universe you know," she points out. "People cause less trouble when they aren't gonna get killed over EVERY LITTLE THING." No one executes Spritz while she's on watch. In theory. Popping out from behind her cover, she takes a couple shots at Cuffs. Stupid leggy femme thinking she's so clever.
Suddenly a white and blue streak of motion rushes past the perimeter Patdown has set up and in front of YX and Swivel, barring Cuffs' access to them. Pff, these lowly beat cops don't know what they're doing. "Excuse me, but why are you carting these diposables off again? Do they belong to you?" he challenges. It so happens that YX is a test subject, and if he's arrested it would defeat the purpose of the test. Too bad these mechs don't don't know that!
All yours, buddy. Hot Rod meets Patdown in a clash of metal (and ego). He swings hard, aiming a punch just under Patdown's shoulder with a twist to drive as much force as possible right into his joints. He's smaller, slighter, and not as well-armored as the enforcer -- but he's got the benefit of Chromia's training!! That's got to be good for something, right? "I knew they hired them dumb, but you're really pushing it. Let them go. They are bystanders!"
"...Execution?" Spritz didn't like the sound of that. Not one bit! "I-I-I rather not! That doesn't r-really work for me!"
And then the blue blur. And the voice. THAT VOICE.
YX-939 screams. It's a high pitched, very undignified scream. He's running back for the manhole cover now. Though, once he gets the manhole cover loose, he THROWS it at Cuffs and Blurr's general direction. It might hit one of them. Maybe.
"FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFWwhaaaaaaaaaaaarg?" Yeah. That's the undignified noise of surprise when... Blurr is suddenly there. But Swivel is actually somewhat relieved to see him there. And barring his sudden appearance, she actually isn't that shocked that Blurr has shown up. Really. NOt at all. In fact she'd been expecting him... she doesn't know why, but she has.
After watching the Red Action Hero do his thing, now Moonlight gets to watch the Blue Action Hero do /his/ thing. Which, surprisingly, is protecting YX. Okay, she can handle that. And then YX throws a manhole cover at them. Even better. Though, she feels kinda sorta bad for attacking Cuffs. Maybe she should send her next attack elsewhere. Looking around she assesses the situation.
The tall bot with the shotgun on Swivel stands motionless, silent. There is no visible face of that near-Ultra Magnus tall bot as a protective dome is in place over it, though there is a great deal of hesitation in that one. Arsenal even looks away from Swivel as Hot Rod shows up, giving amble leeway for the little femme to get away.
Cuffs comes under fire! She is nimble, but not quick enough to dodge all of that fire from Moonlight. She is struck, spins and goes down to a knee only to look up and see... Blurr. "Oh dear, oh no. No no no," she frets. "Sir, please, *you* are not a part of this if you leave now," she politely encourages. "Tehy are operating, illegally, withing Nyon's borders. That means we can do with them as we see fit." Cuffs even smiles as she reaches out for Blurr's feet! If she clamps on them, there will be a sudden powerful magnet pull to bring them together!
<<Damn, stop... moving! I can't... know what, scrap this.>> Off in the distance Hondo adjusts. <<Arsenal, what is going on with you! That spec is... know what, let *me*.>> Moonlight is dancing around on him but Swivel is standing still. He takes a shot at *her*. She's small but hey, he's a good shot - when sober.
Patdown is spun, punched and otherwise battered by Hot Rod. He doesn't punch back - not yet. "I was *built* for war. You know what that does to a bot when it doesn't come? Guess that makes me an engineer," he snarls as *now* he acts. He's slower, his shoulder injured, but he grabs for Hot Rod and means to headbutt Rod right in that pretty, pretty face. "Your ARROGANCE! You think you can go and do what you want, where you please with whatever you want! Every rule, every law, you disobey! Well, that ends. I am going to wring every bit of your freedom from your corpse with my bare hands!"
Aaaand there goes YX-939, down the manhole cover. He's running down the sewers! ... Someone might be able to catch him. Let's face it, he isn't very fast.
"No wonder everyone on this backwater planet HATES you guys; you suck!" Good old squishy lingo. Moonlight loves it. "In fact, you guys gotta be the biggest jerks I've seen in a long time, and let me tell you, I've bounced around space long enough to meet some real, grade A jerks in my time." Yup, Moonlight doesn't like these guys. Not one bit. "You're nothing but a bunch of ugly thugs." Pew pew, shoot shoot; she'll fire at whoever gives her the clearest shot. She's no sniper.
Tipping his head to strike Patdown /right back/, Hot Rod ... gets the worse of the headbutt, actually. I mean, sure, tipping his head might save his pretty, pretty face, but he still gets a dent in his helm that sends him staggering back a pace. He shakes his head and leans against the nearby building. "Freedom's not something you can take," he says. His words begin weak, but pick up strength. "Freedom belongs to everyone!" He pushes off the building hard, crumbling at the masonry beneath the brace of his foot, to launch himself at Patdown with a kick to his knee. He's a little shaky, however, from the blow to the head.
"Sorry miss, but that particular diposable is not to be touched. Besides, he has information that I need." Blurr informs her with a smirk. "There are a lot of things you don't know about, so I suggest you just trust me because I'm on your side, okay?" She almost gets her clamps onto him, but he darts away toward the pipeline access into which YX had disappeared just now. Flipping the hatch up he glances at Swivel. "Swivel, get over here quick!" he beckons.
A chance to run? Awesome! .... Swivel doesn't take it. Running implies guilt. She has, in her mind, done nothing wrong. IF anything she was discouraging further illegal action on the part of YX. And Swivel may be disillusioned with the law, but hundreds of years of believing in something is a hard habit to break, and she tells herself that if she cooperates, she will live. That is, until she takes a shot in the shoulder from the chopper. She had been focused on Blurr and the shotgun in her face, and thus was not really anticipating the need to dodge. Swivel stumbles, her arms go down, and she looks around for where it came from. Then she looks over at the one who had been training a shotgun on her, a confused expression. But that's not nearly as confusing as Blurr calling her over to the manhole. "Bu...." well, if Blurr has as much authority as he ACTS like he does, she should, within reason, be able to get over there without getting hit again. Holding the wound in her shoulder (damn she just back from the free clinic in Dead End) Swivel cantsers over to Blurr.
It is a combination of things. A lot of things. All the things. Arsenal finally moves, away from Swivel and towards Patdown and Hot Rod as the rebel leader comes under attack. "Enough!" That's when Moonlight's shots hit, since Arsenal is indeed the largest, easily-spotted target on the field. They ricochet off that thick armor of the largest bot, causing Arsenal to not fall, but stagger. Arsenal drops to a knee and that domed head hangs low. "You're right," comes an answer to Moonlight. "They *are* thugs. Goons. Monsters. The things I have..." That chokes off as Arsenal stands and lets go of that shotgun. Shoulder plates lift to reveal several racks of grenades. Arsenal spins as Swivel is shot! "ENOUGH!" The large bot then takes off at a jog towards the small femme! ... to provide cover from Hondo. "Take this," Arsenal says when caught up to Swivel. "For when we're all inside." It is a rather large explosive.
Cuffs misses! Those clampy hands fail to clamp and yet since they closed... *CLANK!* They magnetically seal together; thus why she is named Cuffs. Those cuffed-claw hands disengage from her arms as she sprouts new clampy hands! Cuffs stands, startled to see Blurr there but now gone! She looks to see that Patdown is enraged and no longer commanding and... what is Arsenal doing? <<Reload, Outrage, quick! Close in!>>
Patdown is encouraged to see Hot Rod take a hit and then come back for more. As that blow comes... he stands up straighter, making himself a perfect target. *CLANG!* It turns his cheek but... Patdown stays on his feet. His jaw, however, is slightly unhinged. "Wrong," he judges with a glare. He grabs for Hot Rod, meaning to pull him in as he brings his knee up. "Freedom is an illusion! There is only function, and in that purpose! 'Freedom' is to perform your duty... and yours is to break!"
No, not that pretty face! And they call /her/ a criminal! At least Hot Rod has the presence of mind to move, though that dent to his helmet doesn't look good. Although she signed on to do deliveries at first, the thought of that impulsive spark being imprisoned or killed doesn't sit well with her. She also feels a bit protective of Swivel, but it seems she's being taken care of...in a good way. Since she knows she's not the BEST shot ever, she tucks away her blaster and pulls out her whip. With a flick it crackles to life, spitting hot blue energy. "Yeeeeee-haw!" she screams before charging at Patdown, hoping to lash him in the back. "Mech, you need to open your optics; there's tons more out there besides function!"
As soon as Swivel makes her way over, Blurr grabs her arm and pulls her down into the catacombs below as he jumps down himself. "We have to find YX." He insists. The cleaner can't have gone far, right? Dashing down the tunnels he searches for the disposable, and rushes in front of him, that is if he's anywhere near. "Hey, YX! Come back here, I'm sorry about your other friend, but just--let me explain, okay?"
Earning a dent in his middle to match the dent on his head, Hot Rod staggers and -- briefly -- falls. Groaning, he asks, "What do they /put/ in your /energon/?" Patdown clearly eats his ener-wheeties. Rather than remain down for Patdown to aim a kick in his direction, Hot Rod rolls away. His eyes brighten when he sees Moonlight go after Patdown, and he gets back up with renewed vigor. "Nice!" He totally approves of non-standard weaponry. Whips are cool. "Listen to the lady, mech. I'm not going anywhere." He suits action to his words, and strikes again, aiming at his already-weakend jaw.
"Let Swivel go!" That echoes around the sewers, though there's only two directions it could've come from. Left or right; the pipe doesn't go any other way. "And you're a big JERK! Who kills people!"
There is a lot happening, and Swivel is reaching her threshhold. Sure, if she'd been recharging the full recommended amount and been consuming adequate energon she wouldn't be so easily overwhelmed, but lately, the femme has just not been taking as good care of herself. Not since one of her courier jobs went bad and she had to pay, out of her own pocket, to replace a few things. So when Swivel suddenly has something in her hands given to her from one of the people that had a weapon trained on her earlier, she just sort of stares at it, looking blank. It is as though despite staring right at she doesn't see what is there, or make sense of its purpose. She opens her mouth to ask - but FWOOOP! Swivel is pulled underground by Blurr. Bye-bye explosive! It gets dropped the moment Swivel feels a hand on her, falling to the spot where Swivel was standing moments before. Hopefully it doesn't explode on impact.
"Fugggggvibberlyjib...." Yeah.... Swivel is making sounds with her vocoder, but no conceivable words are coming out. "Gimmerfligat. Fnudba. Thlits." Swivel bangs the side of her head a few times. She glances about herself, and then at the two possible directions the voice could be coming from. Luckily for her, she's used to tunnel accoustics. But she won't indicate if she knows (or even gueses) which way Spritz is.
Patdown is ready to further beat submission into Hot Rod when... "Aargh!" Moonlight's whip strike lances down his back and thus splits his attention. This leaves him wide open to Hot Rod's punch. Patdown spins as he goes in one direction and his jaw goes in another!
<<Reload! Outrage! Nownownownow,>> a very panicked Cuffs radios. If only her clampy hands could hold a gun she would shoot at someone but...!
From the perimeter, in race the car and the cycle that had gone wide, in efforts to prevent a retreat. Yet, they don't make it in time..
A ring of explosions goes off, enough to shake the local landscape. Arsenal has tossed out a battery of grenades, all which go off to kick up a choking haze of dust into the sky - one that should obscure optics of snipers (Hondo) or calvary (Reload and Outrage) alike. Patdown looks up, jawless, from where he landed on the ground as towards him stalks Arsenal. The large bot looms, only long enough to say, "I quit."
Arsenal then turns, large hand going out with the intent to grab for Hot Rod, to fling/pull him towards the tunnels. "We have to go. NOW." From the wrist, a panel opens and out pops a grenade launch that Arsenal then presents to Moonlight. "Cover our retreat." Swivel seems gone, to use the bomb to blow the tunnel, and Moonlight can use that to make her own getaway.
Blurr sighs and decides to check both, running down one first and if he doesn't find YX he darts down the other. "I'm not even keeping her, I just wanted to get her out of danger!"
"Look, I had to kill that one, I mean they told me to kill them -all-! But I could just pretend I didn't expect them to be so quick or something if I at least got one of them...then maybe they wouldn't be suspicious. I'm just trying to warn you that they'll send someone else after them, and give you something they can use to protect themselves from whatever thugs they send!" It certainly sounds convincing.
"He's the SECOND one of my friends that you've killed!" Oh, YX-939 seems to be very good at hiding. Where could he be, where could he be? "What's WRONG with you that you just kill people like that?!"
Hot Rod yelps a little when he's flung toward the tunnels. He flails at Arsenal -- it is not his most coordinate attack ever -- on instinct because cop = bad. When he lands, he regathers himself after a brief second staring. He settles in his processors the fact that Arsenal didn't attack and maybe isn't totally evil. A moment later, he has a hatch to a different part of the tunnels open, ready to drop down -- but he waits for Moonlight. And ... maybe Arsenal?? "Come on!"
Lovely. Now there's sounds of explosions above. That gets Swivel moving, throwing her arms over her head to protect it from falling debris. "Spritz..." She finally manages a word! "Keep talkin' an 'e WILL find ya!" She cautions. She had decided to go... left. After running a bit she stops and flicks on her low beams, looking about herself for YX or Blurr, or anyone, really. "Blurr stop tryin' t'splain - E's scared 'nuff as is.... jus... c'mere, talk t'me. I'll listen..."
Unlike Swivel, being handed a weapon doesn't phase Moonlight at all. While she's not a weapon's expert, she's dealt with them enough to be able to handle most things that aren't, super-special-rare-convoluted. So, none of the mad genius stuff. She fires off some shots to cover everyone else's retreat before doing her own running-the-hell-away. Spunk she has: valour, not so much. As for Arsenal, she handed her a weapon and said she quit; that's enough for the smuggler.
Well MAYBE if he hadn't been wandering around some place he wasn't -supposed- to, Blurr wouldn't have had to kill him, right? The racer sighs, shaking his head. "Fine, don't believe me." He pulls something from subspace, it appears to be a small disc-shaped device, and he places it on the ground in front of him, since YX won't come out. "But please give this to those remaining of the team and tell them to stick together, it's a cloaking field. Not that big, but...it should be enough for the five of them for when the IAA -does- send mercs after 'em."
He then turns and walks away, sighing at Swivel. "C'mon Swivel, let's get out of here. I..."
"...thanks."
Arsenal hops down the hole when there's clearance to do so. The big bot lumbers along well enough, even though it is a much more cramped passage for a bot of that size. Yet, Arsenal manages. Above there are many explosions, and cursing, before the tunnel is Moonlight-sealed behind them.
Once that is done and the S.C.U. of the N.P.D. is behind them... Arsenal's head-dome opens, folding back to reveal the femme inside. "I...," she frowns. "I'll help to make that better. To *stop* that," she gestures to 'back there'. If they will have her.
YX-939 does not come out. Nope. Not for anything now. Swivel's words may have hit their mark, 'cause now he's mum.
And that disc on the floor? Ignored. He's been tricked one too many times, and he trusts Blurr about as far as he could throw him.
Offering up a shrug, Swivel just smiles. "Learnin' listenin' kin 'complish a lot. Also learnin' it kin be a dangerous thinger. But 'en, so kin thinkin' fer yerself, seems." She's naive, alright. Her face hardens. "But yer a block'ead if ya think ya kin b'fergiven' fer killin' peeps friends, iffin ya did it wi'ther best intentions. I'd punch ya in ther arm, but ya'd jus' dodge an' I'd likely hit a wall er somsot." Swivel continues frowning. "Peeps dun jus.... stop feelin' fear an' anger jus 'coz ya'got some shiny justification... so let 'em feel it fer a while 'fore tryin' ta..." She shakes her head and shrugs. "Ne'erind. D'ya know yer way round these tunnels? If na, guess ya'll be relyin' o'me ta get y'out." Cheeky grin.
"Oh." Hot Rod looks surprised when the dome opens, although less perhaps by what's revealed than by the fact that it /opens/. He glances from Arsenal's eyes to her collar and then back again. He gives her a quick smile that's just a little crooked. Or maybe his head is crooked. Because of the dent in it. "Let's get somewhere safe and then talk about your letter of resignation back there, huh? So, what was your name?" Their tunnel leads them away from Blurr and Swivel (and probably Y, wherever he is), of elsewhere in the city.
Moonlight let's Hot Rod do the talking now, mostly because it's his city, his cause. She's just along for the ride. She does hand the weapon back to the bulkier femme. "Thanks," she says with a cheeky grin. She brings back out her whip, just in case, the light reflecting off her dark paint.
Well, that's kind of charming really. Hot Rod's crooked smile. Arsenal totally melts for it as relief and star-struck panic and excitement wash over her. That was combat back there and this... this is a moment she had only thought of in moments of private reflection, in off-duty hours. She collects the weapon Moonlight hands her and stows it away again without looking. "Ooooooooooh, something very harmless," she promises with that cheery, flushed grin of hers. She holds out a (large) hand. "Arsenal, sir," she sing-songs. Just like she practiced!
Hm, it seems 939 is getting too smart for Blurr's charm. In that case, he'll just have to resort to more direct methods. But perhaps another time. For now, he just sighs at Swivel and stares sadly at her, his face twisting into a rather distraught expression. "You know what? You're right. I can't expect him to just..." he shakes his head, his optics turning downward. "I-I...Ijustdidn'tknowwhatelsetodoImeanwhatwouldyouhavedoneSwivelhuhwhatwouldyouhavedoneandnowthere'snothingIcandotofixitnothing..."
Finally, he seems to get it back together after a moment. "I do know my way around these tunnels, thanks. Though I wouldn't mind following you, anyway." he says with a smile.
(He now knows my name!) Arsenal tries to not smile too much more.
Even though everyone, everywhere clearly already knows this, he still introduces himself: "Hot Rod." Taking her hand in a warm clasp, he gives Arsenal an only slightly wobbly nod. He looks past to Moonlight and asks, "You okay? I heard someone was taking shots at you. Nice work with that whip. What about you? You need any repairs?" he asks Arsenal, attention returning to her.
Iiiiiinteresting. Moonlight regards Arsenal with curiosity, flicking a glance back to see how Hot Rod is going to deal with this.
Taking off her hat, she sweeps a bow for Hot Rod. "I aim to please. Actually, my aim isn't the best, which is why I came after that thug with a whip. Gave him a good lashing for all that nonsense." She shrugs her shoulders. "I'm good though. I just hope the stuff I brought gets where it needs to go."
Being a master of slurred speech herself, she seems hardly fazed by Blurr's rapid speech, other than the fact he seems to go in and out of it. Swivel shrugs and then tilts her head to the tunnels beyond them in acquiescence of having him follow her. "I dunno what I'd 'ave done coz I 'ent in yer situation," Swivel answers honestly. "I dun mind ya much.... but come near YX-939 again.... I'm gunna use everythin' in my power to 'ave ya wish ya'dn't." Swivel remains smiling as she delivers this threat. She laughs lightly afterwards. "But since I 'ent got nuthin' tha's really a threat t'ya, 'em are empty words. So ya might as well do as y'will coz I kin't stop ya o'er 'en t'ask ya t'leave 'im be. An' all I 'ave to in m'arsenal is trust... which I already lost far as yer concerned." Swivel then lets out a very long sigh.
"... hrm?" Oh, right! Hot Rod just asked her something. What, though, Arsenal couldn't tell. She was too busy staring at him. "That looks *terrible*," she frets as she reaches out towards Hot Rod's head dent. She stops short of doing so, however, caught in the embarassment of having done so. "Oh!" She jumps a little as she tries to get herself collected. "Right, Hondo shot at you!" Arsenal looks away from Rod to examine Moonlight. "That thing on your head is *neat*," she chirps. A panel on her leg pops open and from that Arse produces a medkit that she holds out to Moonlight, should she need?
"Yeah." Hot Rod reaches up to lightly touch the edge of the dent. "He hit hard, I'll give him that much." Leading through the tunnels, he says, "I'll radio ahead to have one of the medics meet us, make sure you're okay, take care of my repairs, then we can go over what happened." Off they go into the poorly lit underside of Nyon, with no step taken without it first being checked -- all thanks to Blurr and his once upon a time mines. Who would blow up Nyon. That's just sick.
 Blurr shrugs and holds his hands up defensively. "I was just trying to help, Swivel! I had to make it at least look like I was -trying- to do as I was told, which was to kill -all- of them. But I -didn't-, I only killed one of them, and I let the rest of them escape. It was the best I could do, even though I know they'll send other people after them, so that's why I wanted to give them something they could use to hide." He sighs again. "But I guess none of them, not to mention you, could ever understand the situation I was in."
  The racer doesn't look surprised when she makes it clear that she doesn't trust him. "I guess no one in their right mind does."
Swivel's hand returns to the hit she took in the shoulder and she looks at it for a moment or two. The lighting is dim so she can't see much, but since she has movement in her arm still, it probably isn't a bad injury. Perhaps she can put off the repairs for a while. "Blurr... yer never gunna be fully trusted. It 'ent fully yer fault. It's the situation yer in, which I dun fully unnerstand. I'unno what 'appened t'ya, but sumtin' did. Y'act all tough 'n stuff... 'n like ya got all th'answers.... but I kin jus' FEEL yer as scared 'n confused as me sometimes. 'En now yer prolly gunna go all... denyin' stuff, get all dead 'cross th'optics 'n disappear... 'coz it's what 'appens 'entime I git close t'seein' 'ose been locked up under th'super spy." Swivel rolls her shoulders, waiting for him to just... vanish like a phantom. Or for herself to get shot. Either or.
  As 'naive' as Swivel may be, there is truth in her words this time around regarding Blurr. And as tough and confident as he acts most of the time, he's rather oblivious to it. He stares at her with an unreadable expression. Is it confusion? Indignance? Is he going to start denying everything? Even as she waits for him to disappear, or for herself to get shot, neither happens. Nothing really happens for a few moments, and there is this...tense silence that hangs between them.
Tense silence. That is a new one. Swivel stares. SHe tilts her head one way. She tilts her head the other way. She blinks, almost expecting when her optic flick back on that he'll be gone. Tense silence. Tense. Swivel picks at the hole in her shoulder, hisses as the pain receptors seems to still be in tact, and then just fidgets.
  The unreadable expression finally melts into a dejected one. "You know, you're right." About what he doesn't exactly specify. Perhaps he means -everything-. Blurr sighs heavily and turns away. "I-I guess I'll leave you alone now." Hey, he didn't deny everything this time.
"Ya dun 'ave ta... well... mebbe ya need ta 'ave time t'think. I know I do. But..." Swivel sucks in a lot of air into her vents (in the sewers yuck) and then deeply exhales. "...I 'ent gunna use tha' 'gainst ya. I'm know wot it's like t'be vuln'rable. It 'ent a good feelin' 'round enemies 'n strangers... but 'round summon gentle... it's kinner nice. I jus' 'ope y'ave summon y'kin trust li'that somewhere's an' ya kin unload yer burdens onta... far as y'kin, wot with yer type 'o job." Swivel rubs the back of her head. She's laid herself open to people before, people who did not actually turn it against her, and to her it is a marvelous feeling. But it's so frightening at the same time. "I'll ne'er be on yer side. Your side tried t'kill me t'day though I was coop'ratin'... an though ya pulled me outter danger, ya might not be there next time. I wanner trust the law, but they've been givin' me lotser reasons to fear 'em instead... an' I dun like bein' afraid. Tell me plainly, though, should I be 'fraid o' ya?"
  Blurr was about ready to leave her be, so he doesn't turn around at first, instead he just keeps going, letting her talk at his back. But when she asks him about being afraid he stops. "I wish I could tell you no, you shouldn't be, but I--" he shakes his head. "--I can't. Y-you know what happened to your disposable friends, I-I don't -want- to hurt you, but if you--butifyou..." He trails off, as if suddenly unsure of where exactly he was going with that statement. But then he looks firm again. "No. At least not now; at this time you haven't done anything to give yourself reason to fear me."
Nodding, Swivel accepts this answer. Then she smiles. It's a sympathetic smile. And the femme just seems to radiate something... positive. Bittersweet. "Yer a good person inther power o' bad people. 'Member tha'. An' I know sumtimes ya jus' dun 'ave the choice t'do the absolute roight thin' wi'out makin' thin's worse. I 'scovered that the 'ard way. I unnerstand the... wotser... word starts with a D... 'en there are no good choices... eh dun matter. I'm sure yanno wot I'm tryin' t'say. I dunno yer situation, dun unnerstand it, but know sometimes peepes dun 'ave th'luxury of doin' the 'eroic thing..." She had just been trying to explain a similar concept to someone earlier that cycle. Being brave and doing the right thing just isn't always an option. "Yeah... kay, I'll leave ya be now, I mean it this time. I knows I kin g'one if ya lemme. I'm a roight ol' chatterbox." Swivel laughs lightly. She puts two fingers to her lips to signify she's done.
  "What bad people?" Blurr asks innocently. "The IAA? They're not bad, they just want me to be happy and successful in life." Oh -now- there he goes with the denial. "They -made- me, Swivel." he admits, which is not something that the general public knows. "Disposables are no different than drones to them, that's just how people in that sort of position are used to living. I didn't even realize there -was- such a thing as a disposable caste before. So it's not that they're bad people. They're just very protective of me, because I'm their -masterpiece-."
"D'ya... know wot yer sayin?" Swivel asks. "f yer their masterpiece, 'en yer jus' a more 'spensive sorter slave." Swivel rubs her chin however and seems to be consider this. "I'unno if it's the IAA or sumtin' else... but bad thin's are appenin' t'good people... and usually by summun' in th'gov. Maybe IAA dun e'en know they're bein used as a front... but there's sumtin jus... terrible in th'works, an it's got its..." she trails off. "Okay, wot GOOD sorter person'd kill a bunch o' cleaners? Tell ya to kill for 'em? Put ya in th'situation t'make it so's no'one kin trust ya? See's, I wanna trust ya. But I kint s'long as I know yer tryin' t'make 'em peeps 'oo you say are so protective proud. I get it. Ya feel that ya owe 'em. 'Ell, I'm stuck owin' Starscream my life coz 'e saved my aft... dun mean I'd kill fer 'im. NO! NO! untcha go on wi'ther 'ol'e 'dya 'ave to bring up the killing thing I only killed one rather than them all!". Yeah, ya tried not t'do the real big bad thing, which means y'unnerstand it IS wrong. I.... think I lost me train o'thought." Swivel idly flicks the side of her helmet, looking slightly peevish because sometimes she confuses herself in her own prattling.
  "I-I...I don't know." Blurr shakes his head, looking distressed again. It's true, and even if he isn't aware of it, if someone went through all documentation, according to those he is actually technically -property- of the IAA. So yes, an expensive slave. "I never questioned it, it always made sense whenever it was explained..." Which always involved something about sacrifices needing to be made. He backs away. "What good does it do, anyway? It's not my place to hold my own creators accountable."
  No, he -can't- dwell on that. "I have to go." And off he goes, in his usual manner.
Category:Cops and Rebels