Spies and Cowards

Milling about the outskirts of Nyon's official boundaries is the courier femme. A thin coating of dust desaturates her colours, sapping out the light greenish hues, leaving her looking just gray on the areas she is painted that sagey colour. The other colours aren't as heavily effects and blue is still blue and brass is still brass. Behind her is a stretch of nothing, other than shanties assembled by empties out of junk and roads in need of some maintenance. Before her are some industrial buildings, only a fraction of which are still in use. There is something carefree and casual, but also something entirely aimless and perhaps a bit thoughtless about the femme's demeanor.
There aren't only shanty-towns and poorly maintained buildings about. In a street not too fare ahead of Swivel's route is a very, very large hole in the middle of the street. A crater, of sorts; maybe a pothole that just got out of hand. At any rate, it exists, and is... Being worked on? 
Well, look at that. A few cleaning bots are trying to put some sort of buttress around the hold to keep more of it from collapsing. Why? Well, that big ol' pipe underneath it might be why. It's a pretty big pipe, it is, easily thrice the width of the average Cybetronian. 
Oh, hey, at least one of those disposables might be familiar, too.
Zipping along a road encircling Nyon, Hot Rod weaves his way around broken bits of road with a happy, humming engine and unnecessarily loud, raucous music. It's trouble music, of course, all rebellion and noise, distributed underground rather than any kind of proper release. It cuts off suddenly with the sharp squeal of tires as he comes up to the very, very large hole in the street and veers sharply to the side. He transforms back to root mode to shed the last of his momentum pacing around the crater and looking down inside. Then he looks up, and on catching sight of Swivel, yells, "Hey! Swivel!" No greeting for Y, but then, they all look the same, right? (NO, HOT ROD.)
The large hole had gotten Swivels attention after she's kickeda random piece of rubble and watched it roll into the distance. Lucky for her it did not fall into the opening leading to the very large pipe. That might have upset the YX-units there. And naturally, her first response to seeing a cleaning crew is to approach and scan them for familiar faces. Swivel hears the beat and dirty phonics of some loud music but pays it little mind at first. It isn't until a FABULOUSLY painted vehicle comes screeching to a halt nearby that she pays it any mind. 
"'Ullo dawn there," SWivel calls to the workers. She then looks up and smiles and waves to Hot Rod. "An' 'ullo t'ye!"
At both voices, the lot of... Well, six VISIBLE YX units, but who knows how many more were milling in darker parts of the sewer. 
"Swivel!" Oh, there's YX-939 AKA Spritz. He looks pretty exhausted; they all do, really. "Can you keep a few steps back? I don't know how stable the edge is!" 
Then, he looks at Hot Rod. blinks once. Squints. "...The criminal guy! Hi!"
"I thought we were past this, mech," Hot Rod complains in Y's direction without any real heat to his words. He even smiles -- but it's distracted. "Hey, you heard anything about Turntable?" he asks Swivel. "Because I've got to tell you I've got nothing." He spreads his hands wide. The movement is sharp with frustration. "If you really want to know more, we need to go in."
"Spritz!" Swivel chides in a both sharp yet teasing tone. It would seem both her and Hot Rod were on YX's case about referring to him as criminal guy, but it just may become a nickname that sticks. However, what Hot Rod begins to talk about is something that brings less feeling of fun and mischief and more of gloom and uneasiness. "Oh... yeh, no. I spoke wi' Blurr 'bout it, 'e says 'e booked 'im an' 'e was transfered 'n 'e dinna know 'enthin' past that. An' fer sake o' me own sanity, I'll jus' b'lieve 'im." Swivel rubs her upper arms; it's one of those little tells of hers that she has some very conflicting thoughts. She glances back at the very tired YX-units.
"I never actually learned your name!" YX-939 shouts up with a tired laugh. He sounds a little loopy; as if he's been awake for a biiiit too long. "So 'Criminal guy' it is!" 
At the mention of more serious manners, the tired smile starts to drift off his face. "Is something going on?"
Hot Rod looks mildly incredulous. "What do you mean, you don't know my name?" This is slightly, but importantly different from YX-939 never /learning/ his name. Hot Rod apparently takes it for granted that Y should just know it anyway. Be...cause. /BECAUSE/. "It's /Hot Rod/!"
Okay, now that he's taken care of that: "Well, Blurr's not wrong." Glancing down at YX-939, Hot Rod says, "Swivel saw someone get framed for a crime. They were taken in, booked, and then transferred -- but the place they were transferred? That's like bad news city. And I haven't heard anything about the guy since then. If you haven't either, I'd be worried."
Swivel would be amused by Hot Rod's indignity over his name not being known had he bot dropped that gloom bomb on Swivel. Mentioning Turntable just reminds her why she doesn't want to be around when the enforcers show up. Because one day, it might be her holding the bag, so to speak. Innocent and yet made to look criminal, only to be hauled off and never seen again. "I bin askin' round places loi'this, an' where I saw 'im, an' bars 'n the loik. None's seen 'im. None t'all. Jus.... gone. I figger th'stolen goods're buried there by th'actual thief 'oo 'ad t'ditch the prize 'til later, 'en meant t'come back fer it.... but Turntable found it first. I wunnner why it wunt 'covered sooner, 'en, if it 'ad a tracker 'n all?" Swivel is honestly curious, wondering if being buried kept them from detecting it. But it wasn't deep at all. She certainly isn't questioning the possibility that it was a trap so one had an excuse to haul off an empty. She just does not think that way.
YX-939 frowns up at Hot Rod as he goes on to explain the current state of events. "I'm sorry to hear that happened. Uhm..." A shrug; what could he do about it? "Sorry I can't help?" 
There's a yelp from one of the other YX units; Spritz turns at the noise before diving to the side; one of the support beams falls and smacks right in to where he was standing. It probably wouldn't have been fatal; it isn't particular big or heavy-looking. Still, it probably would've hurt. 
A deep sigh escapes the little disposable; then, he along with two others start to lift it back up...! 
Life of a sewer bot.
That's okay: where Swivel does not think, Hot Rod is happy to suggest. "They were probably just waiting for someone to pick it up so that they could haul them off." It's such a thin line that divides the conspiracy crazies from those who KNOW THE TRUTH!!! about WHAT!!! is BEHIND!!! the SENATE!(!!) He takes it almost for granted that this is a possibility. He sounds disgusted, yes, but lacks the surprise that would make him indignant.
Glancing over as YX-939 ducks back down, Hot Rod leans. "Okay down there? Need a ha--say, you ever work in Ibex?"
"Oh, come now, dun ya think tha's a bit o'er th'top? Plenny o' real crimnals, they dun need t'make fake 'uns outter poor 'apless empties," Swivel insists, being as naive as ever. Although some small part of her wonders if it is true. A very tiny part. A part easily ignored because it would open a door to a lot of paranoia and suspicion that would just drive her nuts and cause her to isolate herself. And that is just not the Swivel way. "I jus..." 
THUNK 
"EEEK! SPRITZ YOU OKAY!?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Spritz smiles up at Swivel's concern. Then, a grateful grin to Hot Rod. "No, it's okay. I think we got it." Still, he sighs again as he helps drag the beam back where it should be. "Ibex? Not recently. Usually that's --" 
From above, an open pipe suddenly lets out a river of thick, dark gunk. It shower the working YX units. 
For a moment, Spritz looks startled. Then, his expression shifts in to annoyance. Yeah, he's dealt with this before. 
"Usually Ibex is for group 7. I'm in group 5. We're usually around Nyon." Ah, so that's why he's been here so often.
"Swivel, if you hadn't seen it happen, how many people do you think would've even asked to find out that he was transferred?" Hot Rod points out with a glance over at her. He leans back to call something to YX-939 only to get distracted by the shower of awful. "Well, that's /terrible/," he says, sounding vaguely impressed by just how gross that is. "Any of them work with the IAA? Because one of you guys might be able to get in there and find out something."
There is another startled noise from Swivel and she hops back a few paces. Not that she has an aversion to grime and muck, but the noise did not sound like the noise of SAFE HAPPY THINGS happening. Once she is settled and sees no real harm is done, other than causing annoyance, she taps her chin in thought. "An'.... wha'd it take to get group 5 'n 7 switched?" Swivel wonders out loud. "Bu' dun pay 'tention to me... jus' thinkin' ou'loud. I dinna got 'enway ta 'fect thin's on th'igh o' a level," Swivel says, waving her hand. However it seems Hot Rod is thinking on the same wavelength. That can't be a good thing for Swivel. 
"Ya seriously thinkin' o' tryin' te get in there an' look 'round? I mean... i's jusser bunch o' athletes 'n stuff...." Swivel frowns. Now she knows she is in denial. She then sighs. "'Aight.... Blurr looked mighty alarmed 'en I s'ggested there might be somethin' up wi'ther IAA. I jus dun wanner b'lieve it is all. I kinner liked it 'en I got 'nuff t'watch the races in Ibex."
"...What the heck is the IAA?" Spritz blinks up at Hot Rod. 
"The racing people?" One of the other YX units seems just as confused. "The athletics association?" 
YX-939 turns to give his fellow disposable a funny look before looking back up to Hot Rod. "Sounds like a private organization? I dunno, sometimes we get hired out for a job, but most of us are on government jobs with infrastructure. The pipes and stuff!"
Hot Rod flashes a grin in Swivel's direction. "Yeah, of course. I mean, if you want to know what happened to him, getting in there's the only real way to do it. I'll tell you one thing, though -- there's a lot more going on there than just a bunch of athletes racing, but I don't know how far it goes, or how many are involved. It's pretty much ruined watches the races for me," he says with a deep, profound sigh, as though /that/ is the greatest tragedy. "Yeah, racing people," he answers the other YX. "They get up to some weird stuff in the name of better races and more shanix. What about the infrastructure? Does it go /every/where?"
Swivel idly rubs her cheek with the back of her hand and shifts her weight - carefully - while looking down. "I kinner dun wanner know... but I 'ent gunna b'able ter rest till I /do/ know, yanno? An 'sides..." she looks at the disposables, and then back at Hot Rod. "I said dun pay 'tention t'me, coz as I think 'bout it, askin' 'em t'spy fer us is... puttin' 'em in a bad situation. I woona do tha'to 'em." After all, she did not take kindly to being asked to spy when Blurr asked. She would not turn around and put that pressure on her little friends. Especially Spritz. " 
"A'though! 'Ow offen d'ya talk wi'ther group 7's? I mean, y'coo ask 'em questions 'bout the place 'n stuff. Dun push more 'en wot they tell yah... seems like 'armless info gatherin'. But no more 'en tha'. I know ya wunner 'elp, but I 'ent gunna 'spect ya to do 'enthin' I won't." Swivel plays with her lower lip for a moment or two. "Always possible 'e got released 'n jus' scurried off t'nuther polity 'er somsot... mebbe shamed by bein' seen bein' taken' in, even if wrongfully... or mebbe 'e was criminal o' other thin's though 'e was innocent in th'thin' I witnessed."
"...Uhh." YX-939 is starting to look uncomfortable. "...Wait, are you trying to get us to go on some crazy SPYING MISSION?" 
The other YX bots look up in sudden surprise; maybe they were all focusing too much on work and not really thinking about what they were overhearing. 
"I don't think we'd make very good spies!" Now he SOUNDS worried, too. 
There's a long pause before he answers Swivel. Mostly because Spritz is trying very hard to stop the pipe leaking that noxious goop from spilling more of it. "All of us get together at least three times a week. We bunk together when our rest shifts overlap!"
"Yeah, okay," Hot Rod acknowledges with a glance over the assembled sewer bots. "It's definitely not something I'd want anyone to do unless they were sure of it. There's a lot of fragged up scrap--" SUCH LANGUAGE. "--that goes on there, from what I've heard." He holds his hands up in answer to YX-939's discomfort. "Asking if you wanted to. There's someone there who's probably hurt and in bad shape and not a lot of people out here who even care. But getting there, getting inside -- it's not easy. But maybe if you can tell me how, I can find someone else who /is/ willing to go for it."
Putting out her hands palms out and sort of waves them. "No no no no no no no no NO! I'm sayin' I DUN wanner ask ya t'be spies. Gah! Nu'more o' that worried look! I woona ask ya t'do 'enthin' illegal. /I/ wouldn't," she shoots a glance at Hot Rod meaningfully, then looks back at Spritz. "Jus' tryin' t'get info.... 'en.... I dunno. I dunno if I wanner be 'volved in this sorter thin'... an' mebbe y'shoona tell me wot yer plannin O'Rod." Swivel frowns. "I 'ent shielded from, uh... yanno... wot if I get terrogated 're sumtin? I dunno if I'd b'able to... yeah I... uh..." It seems the femme is suddenly getting cold feet about the FREEDOM of Turntable, and any other poor saps being possibly experimented upon. Very cold feet. The femme is back pedalling fast.
The YX bots still look pretty worried about the entire conversation. Even while they work, which is a pretty good distraction. Hot Rod and Swivel might be able to SMELL the distraction. 
"I'll, uh... Talk to Group 7, if it helps? Don't think they'll know much, though." YX-939 shrugs. "Half of those guys work there because they're fans of the races. It's the toughest place to clean up."
"You know, getting info is illegal," Hot Rod points to Swivel in a not-so-undertone. When she backpedals, disbelief is followed swiftly by dismay on his features. Then he looks mad. "This is why they can take disposables and empties, Swivel, and think they can get away with it! Because no one cares! Because we'd all rather be safe than do the right thing! You know what? Okay. If your conscience can live that that, so be it. I'll find another angle. And hey, if you hear anything," he calls down to Y and pals, "let me know, yeah?"
"But I DO ca -- I 'ent -- I toldya din -- bu-bu O'Rod!" Are Swivel's interjections, which are overpowered by Hot Rod's ingignant speech. She gets more and more flustered and hurt by his anger, eventually her attempts to defend herself just turns into gibberish that doesn't even resembles words - that is, less than her regular speech. "O'Rod...." Swivel finally manages to say, but by this point she knows there's no real point in trying to assauge the hot-headed mech. She curls in her lips for a moment, then pushes her lower lip out in a pout, looking thuroughly chastised and self ashamed.
"Uh... Sure. Okay. Sure." YX-939 nods to Hot Rod; the small movement splatters more gunk around. "No problem." He gives the pipe a solid kick of frustration; the river of goop almost instantly stops. He stares at it in incredulity. 
The rest of the YX bots just kind of... Watch Hot Rod throw a tantrum before running off.
Hot Rod gives Swivel a last look, shakes his head, and then throws himself back down on the other side of the pit in the road to continue his drive. The music starts up again. Just as loud. JUST AS TANTRUMY. At least he's gone, right? Right.
Her optics wide, her optic ridges knitted together, and her lower lip still pushed out in pout, Swivel watches the tantrum-ridden Hot Rod until he and his music are out of sight and hearing range. She hardly even notices the clank of the kicked pipe. She hears it, but she just doesn't respond to it. "...........Am I a bad person?"
"What?" That actually comes from several different YX bots, at slightly different tones and with varying levels of surprise. 
"Bad person? YOU?" Spritz sputters. "You're the nicest person I HAVE EVER MET."
Well, the sounds of the disbelief from the YX units is a bit startling, but also a bit encouraging. "Oh... I dinna realise I said tha' out loud..." Swivel begins to chuckle a little. She looks over at the gunk-covered YX units fondly. "Thanks fer sayin'. I jus' dun see 'ow gettin' m'self in trouble 'en 'ccomplishing nuttin' is better 'en not gettin' involved and still 'ccomplishin' nuttin." Swivel crosses her arms over her chest and gazes off in the direction Hot Rod had sped off to.
YX-939 says "At least you're trying to do something?" YX-939 sighs. "I mean... At least you CAN try to help people? Like all those movies about Primes before they were Primes and Senators doing great things even if they didn't know they were goin to BE great, you know?"
"Eh.... I jus' talk.... I dun really do." Swivel slumps her shoulders and glances about herself again. "But talkin's a lot safer. I 'ent gunna 'tend I 'ent a coward... but I think being' a coward 'ent so bad a thin' compared t'bein' the sorter person 'oo sets out t'arm peep fer their own gain." Swivel looks between the YX units, not commenting about the greatness of Primes, since her history, romanticised or otherwise, is a bit lacking. "Sumtime's I think ya'll seen more 'em movies 'en I 'ave."
A small, tired laugh escapes from 939. "We watch movies pretty much every night. Or part of one. We use an hour of our rest shift for it. We usually fall aslep to them playing, too!" A pause. "But... These days, sometimes you just... Need to be safe, too, I think? SMART risks. Like in 'The Ghastly Ordeal of Nominus Prime'. You ever seen that?"
Swivel also offers up a less tired but still somewhat wear smile. "Kinna say as I 'ave. I really dun see many o'em. Much prefer t'watch sportin' 'vents 'er live 'formances if I kin 'ford it. Usually from a distance, though.... like from a rooftop..." Swivel shrugs a bit. "Dun 'ave really the sorter 'rangement t'be watchin' movies 'en I rest."
"Ooh, live shows. I've heard about those. Stage plays, right? Sometimes with music?" YX-939 smiles dreamily. "Always wanted to see one of those. See what all the fuss is about. We hear people talk about them sometimes." A pause. "...Never liked sports much, though. That's why I'm not in Group 7. They're all sports and racing fanatics."
"'En 'ow did Speedy 'n Pitstop end up in group 5? Sounds like they'd fit more in wi'ther 7's." Swivel tilts her head to the side as she considers this.
A bark of laughter erupts from Spritz. "They're not INTENSE enough for Group 7. They requested the transfer back within DAYS of being in there. Twobit still teases them about it."
Well, although the hurtful things said and the unease talking about Turntable is not forgotten, Swivel is ready to allow herself to full out laugh. "Not intense 'nuff? Aaaaaah...... so 'en they all do the smoochy-sounds at ya, jus' redirect 'em t Speedy 'n Pitstop." Of course, mentioning of smoochy noises brings up the very weird encounter she had with Starscream. Yeah, she still isn't quite sure what happened there. She then looks at Spritz. "D'ya think I'm beautiful? An' fore y'get flustered, if y'say no I wun't be mad 're sad... it's jus' no one's ever called me tha' b'fore, so I'm seekin' a second opinion."
YX-939 looks up to give Swivel a wide-optic look of surprise. He doesn't seem flustered; more like he didn't expect the question. "...You're asking a disposable covered in... Honestly, I'm not really sure what this is, who hasn't had a bath in TWO WEEKS if YOU'RE pretty?" A pause. "You're very beautiful. You're SHINY, really."
Swivel takes a moment to consider the logic of asking someone routine covered in muck about appearances, and smiles and laughs a little. "Oh, roight, guess in't fair t'ask ya... but 'spite wot ya cover yerself in dun mean y'ent gotter sense o'.... uh.... wosser word.... sense oh thin's looking good..." Swivel shrugs her shoulders, giving up on finding the word. However she just smiles. "Thanks. I think I like bein' shiny... though I 'ent always. Ya seen me as gunky as you 'fore."
"Doesn't mean you're less shiny covered in gunk..." Spritz mumbles. 
"Mech, just tell the femme she's georgous and ask her out on a date already." One of the other YX bots grins. 
NOW Spritz is flustered. "GUYS. NO. BAD."
What is a girl supposed to do in a situation? Stand up for the guy being teased? Join in the teasing? Laugh and pretend not to hear? Suggest a date might be a good idea? Well, these are NOT the thoughts going through Swivel's mind as she laughs. "Oy, guys, what're thoughts, mmmm? Am I a pretty femme?" Swivel instead puts them on the spot. She holds her hands out and does one slow twirl. "Eh?"
"Woohoo!" Goes one of the YX bots. A second one smacks him -- gently, of course -- against the back of his head and gives him a rude look. 
"Of COURSE you are!" Shouts another. "939 knows you are too!" 
"GUYS." Spritz sputters. 
"We tease 'im, but we're practically all spark brothers, but you should totally ask him out on a date." Giggles another. "I have no idea if it's legal, but you should." 
"This is HIGHLY IRREGULAR." Spritz sputters.
Well, the femme is having a bit too much fun at Spritz' expense, but she has no intention of causing distress. She laughs at the sort-of catcalls she receives from the others. To her it is just innocent fun, and she doesn't really think of herself as being shameless or making a fool of herself or anyone. "Eh... might be illegal. Bes' not keep pokin' at the matter," Swivel says in a slightly more serious tone to the other YX-units, but she maintains her smile.
Spritz is stll sputtering; he's quite a sight, looking as mortified as he does while covered in all that gunk. 
The other YX bots are laughing a little, even as they go back to work. 
"...Should still totally ask him out." 
"WILL YOU STOP." Spritz squeaks. He's met with more laughter.
Waving her hands in the general direction of the workers as if to try and fan away a bad smell. "EH, I sh'prolly get goin'. I'm sure the teasin'll subside affer a bit.... specially 'en they find sumtin else ter giggle 'bout. Jus' let it roll off yer back." swivel doesn't seem bothered by the teasing and apparently thinks that YX-939 ought not be bothered either.
Poor Spritz; maybe he's just not used to teasing of this nature. He's practically blushing as he shoots dirty looks to all of his giggling coworkers. "Can we PLEASE just do our JOBS?" 
They're still laughing, but they're moving a little faster now. 
YX-939 looks up at Swivel. "...I'm sorry about that." Stiiilll blushing.
Offering up another laugh, Swivel gives a carefree shrug. "Dun worry 'bout it. "Enway, time fer me t'stop bein' a distraction, yeah?" Smiling Swivel transforms. "Tah!" She revs up her engines, waits for any goodbyes, and then zips off.