Fall from the Stars

The beautiful city of Vos gleams like a Cybertronian gem amongst the rabble and refuse strewn about under its gleaming tooftops and in its outskirts. This is the city of Seekers, and aerial sophistication. A space port calls this city home, though actual visitors from space are few and far between these days thanks to the Clampdown. Space travel is now illegal and few visitors bother to come. It's not like Cybertron is popular among the universe anyway.
The government's grip on the citizenry is getting tighter all the time, and there is growing unrest- even a growing group of rebels that go by the name of Decepticons. It's all rather underground still, however, and most of Cybertron just tries to go about its day to day business.
Blast Off used to be one of them. He used to work here as a scientist until he saw one thing too many and attempted space travel only to get shot down- literally. He is a Fugitive wanted by the law, and in fact was recently captured and placed in prison. It was the Decepticons who freed him. Now he walks to streets of Vos... he comes here once in a while, despite the fact that he ought to lay low. It's just... that he misses the place, with its culture and sophistication. Kaon is just so.... hardscrabble. It's hard for him to relate to. He'd much rather be out THERE- among the stars.
Evidently someone didn't get the memo that Cybertron was not a popular destination amongst the rest of the universe. In any case, there seems to be a shuttle coming in for a rather bumpy landing. This alone is probably unusual, and coupled with the fact that the shuttle is distinctly NOT of Cybertronian make is telling. Unfortunately it seems to be falling more than flying at the moment, most likely to the chagrin, or perhaps even panic, of whomever is inside.
Blast Off finishes his business in Vos (such as it was- mostly just basking in the ambiance) and unfortunately, that means he must return soon to Kaon. Lovely, scenic, cultured Kaon. NOT. With a sigh, the shuttleformer begins his jounrney home, transforming to his brown and purple alt mode and beginning the flight home. As he nears Thunderhead Pass (not to pass through it, but his course takes him within sight of the place).... something odd picks up on his scanners. Something.... coming from way up high. Coming from the stratosphere. He takes a closer look through those scans and... notices the alien design of the shuttle immediately. This gets ALL of the sentient space shuttle's attention, and he plots a course to investigate.
Luck is not with the shuttle pilot this cycle. Blast Off is on the way, but his timing is just a shade off. Crashing into Cybertron seems imminent. Hopefully the shuttle doesn't have terribly explosive cargo or else there is going to be quite a mess when it hits the planet's surface. Since the shuttle itself is not a transformer, it is rather stoic as it gets closer to impact.
THIS sentient space shuttle can't help but wince just slightly at the other shuttle's apparent impending doom. Not a *whole* lot, of course. Blast Off isn't highly empathetic, especially not for a stranger. But still, there's a certain... understanding of the potential damage. The Combaticon's had a few crash landings of his own, after all. He still doesn't know who or what this is, and is extremely cautious given his "wanted mech" status. So for now the aloof shuttleformer merely draws a little closer and keeps scanning the situation- observing.
Some control must have been gained as the shuttle doesn't hit quite as badly as it could have. It bumps against the ground and, with a rather awful grinding sound, skids along it, the belly of the ship being scraped along the ground and leaving a bit of a trail. By the time it stops moving it looks like it's in pretty bad shape, but there's a good chance that whoever is inside it hasn't been destroyed.
Blast Off watches as the ship makes it's way down... down... down. Some might attempt to help, but... this is Blast Off. Aloof and somewhat suspicious given all that's happened to him lately. (And, well... ever.) At least the ship seems to regain some control before it crashes. The Combaticon shuttle circles high overhead once, debating whether he should investigate.
There are risks, and who knows what is inside, or if they're friendly. But eventually his curiosity wins out. He *misses* space, and this ship fell from the stars much like he did once not long ago. So his wing elevons shift, fuselage banks slightly, and he starts a slow, controlled approach towards the ground.
For a few moments there is stillness. Then, with a groan of protest and a slight hiss, the shuttle door opens. Sounds of metal against metal in the cadence of footsteps can be heard. With the overhang above the door, the first thing that can be seen of the shuttle's occupants is a pair of red, grey, and black 'booted' Cybertronian feet. This is, of course, naturally followed by legs, knees, and so on and so forth, until the person comes into full view. At first glance it looks like a general seeker, but the curvature indicates a femme. Also, the individual seems to have little in the way of obvious firearms and, instead, has a sword on each hip.
Red optics impassive, the being looks around. Despite the lack of expression, there is little doubt that the crash was decidedly unpleasant, as there are numerous scuffs and scratches present. Finally, at the last moment, the femme just sits down at the base of the shuttle, looking a bit stunned.
Blast Off comes in for a landing- a MUCH more dignified one, too- because this Combaticon is all about *dignity*. He lands not too far away- but not too close either. Transforming to root mode, he watches as the door opens. The moment of truth. His scans work to pick up the life signs and... wait, that's Cybertronian. Instead of being a disappointment, it's actually all the more interesting.
Violet optics watch impassively as .. a Seeker femme steps out? One of Blast Off's optic ridges raises up in a bit of surprise. Interesting. He just stands there, watching, for a moment, taking this all in. Finally, the myserious femme from the stars may hear a calm, rather cultured, yet flat voice ask a simple question. "Who are you?"
The seeker femme looks up as she is addressed. It doesn't take her long to assess the mech. "My name is Swift Blade," is all she says. No rank, no function, no place of origin. Just a name. She doesn't even inquire after the mech's name in return. She simply sits there and watches, her expression one of great patience.
The shuttleformer stands there as his brown and purple armor glints and dances under the light of one of Thunderhead Pass' electromagnetic storms. Crossing his arms, Blast Off nods slowly at her response. His violet optics and faceplate don't give a lot of his expression away. He follows it with another question. "Did you come from... out there?" He gestures briefly with his head, pointing up- towards space.
Swift Blade offers a wry smile, though the expresion is fleeting. She has no faceplate to hide behind. "Recently, or originally?" she asks dryly. "I was created here, a very long time ago. So long it's just a distant memory. Most of my existance has been spent," she waves a hand broadly towards the sky, "'out there' as you say."
This creates a small flicker of interest in Blast Off's optics. His head tilts slightly, his interest piqued. "You are a Cybertronian, just now returning home?"
Swift Blade nods her head, though her optics narrow a triffle. "If you get far enough away from here, it can get rather isolated." She looks the mech over meditatively. "I'm not even entirely sure how much time has passed since I left; I spent a fair amount of time in stasis. It never occured to any of my masters," a word she says with evident distaste, "that I would need to know the date."
Blast Off nods , and states with a dry note in his own voice, "Yes, I know. I've been out there." He knows all about how lonely space can get- not that he'd admit it. Her mention of the word "masters" causes both optic ridges to furrow slightly this time. "....Masters? What do you mean?"
Swift Blade stares at Blast Off for a few moments, then shrugs her shoulders slowly. "I must have been gone longer than I thought," she finally says. "I was sold away into slavery by the Quintessons." Again that tone of distaste, but amplified this time. In fact, she looks very much like she is about to draw her swords at the mere thought of them. But she remains still.
This actually produces a real expression of surprise in the aloof shuttle. His head even drops forward slightly. "...Quintessons?" Blast Off shows a bit of his own age by knowing that name. His optics narrow, then he shakes his head slowly. "...You have been away a... very long time, then." He stares at her a moment, then looks around. "No... we are not enslaved by the Quintessons anymore. Though..." His look darkens a bit, and he mentions almost as an aside, "... there are still those who think they /should/ rule us."
The femme doesn't say anything for a few moments as she considers this. "I had heard they were gone; I wouldn't have returned otherwise," she finally said, speaking softly. "Freedom was not something I wished to give up so easily." She tilts her head to the side as she regards Blast Off. "When you said there are those who think they should rule us, do you mean the Quintessons, or that someone else has their designs on taking Cybertron from its people?"
Blast Off glances to the femme as she speaks of freedom. It's a sentiment he shares. "Nor should you. Every Cybertronian should be free to make their *own* choices. Yes, the shuttleformer is big on *choice*. As for the rest of her questions, he shifts slightly as he continues to stand there before answering. Blast Off wants to be his /own/ master. He has never liked being told what to do, and it's part of what's gotten him in such trouble with the powers that be.
There's a small huff from his ventilation systems. "No, not Quintessons." His expression remains a bit dark, as if remembering unpleasant things, as he glances upwards towards the pass itself. "I suppose you could say it's more of... the latter." Blast Off then gazes back towards civilization- towards Vos. "You have really been gone a long time, then? You know nothing of our current government?"
Every Cybertronian should be free to make their *own* choices."
"Nothing," is the short reply. "None of the beings I travelled with to get here were very forthcoming. All I could confirm was that the Quintessons were gone and that the planet still existed." She frowns. "I could only guess that our people are not well liked by the rest of the universe that knows of us." Slowly she rose to her feet, folding her arms across her chest. "Is there something I should know about the government?"
Blast Off regards Swift Blade, debating what all he should say. If anything. It's not like it's really any of his concern what happens to this femme. Still, if she really has come from the stars- if she traveled out...*there* recently.... he could at least give her fair warning. Besides, he's a gentlemech. It would only be polite.
"Be careful of it. It is probably not the same as when you left. The powers-that-be... are doing all that they can to retain that power. And that includes cutting off the stars. We are in a Clampdown. That means- no space travel is allowed." His optics dim slightly. "Even for... me." He glances to her shuttle. The non-sentient one. "...Or for you."
"So, for better or worse, I'm stuck here now that I've made it to the planet?" Swift Blade asks dryly. "That isn't the least bit comforting." Glancing at her shuttle, she shakes her head. "I don't know if I could get this thing to fly again even if I wanted to. I'm not a mechanic. I'm not even a very good pilot," she admits. "Which is why I probably made such a poor job of landing." She turns back to regard Blast Off. "If those in charge are feeling such a strong need to protect their power then I would assume that there is someone, or a group of someones, that is intent on taking it for their own?"
Blast Off nods, arms still crossed. "Unfortunately, yes, you are. We *all* are." He supresses a sigh as he glances skyward once more, then back to Swift Blade. His optic ridge raises up again at her admission of being a relatively poor pilot, and he comments, "I saw." The shuttle may try to be a sophisticated gentlemech, but his own rather poor social skills don't always help him there.
He replies to her question, though, commenting, "In a way. The government's greed and power hunger has festered inside itself for a long time now. That dischord is helping to create dissidents... rebels. Underground movements. " Like the one he just joined- the Decepticons, though once again he doesn't mention that.
Swift Blade isn't offended; why should she be? She spoke the truth and he agrees with her. There is no conflict there. The rest of what he says is of far more interest. "I see," she says thoughtfully. "I know very little about governments or underground movements. I know enough to take orders and not get myself in trouble. And," she adds with the faintest of smiles, "I know how to fight." She pats one of her swords. "Since I'm stuck for now, it seems like the only option is to find a way to get by." Pause. "One way or another." She spreads out her hands in an open gesture. "Any ideas on how best to do that?"
The slightest trace of a smile curls at Blast Off's mouthplates at the femme's mention of knowing how to fight... not that Swift Blade would see it under his faceplate. On the surface he just continues to look calm and aloof. But he gives her a nod. At her question he pauses thoughtfully, gaze lifting upwards before answering once again. "I would say avoid the government if possible." He looks back towards Vos. "/If/... possible. They probably picked you up on their scanners, and may be heading this way." Come to think of it, *He* doesn't want to be around when they do.
The shuttle then glances towards Kaon. "However... if you slip past them, and wish to find somewhere that will not judge you, or capture you, or try to lead you around like a turbo-sheep once more...." His voice slips the faintest trace of a growl at the word *capture*, as he was captured not long agao, "Kaon would be your best bet. Vos there is... not bad, either. Just... avoid Iacon. The Autobots are there." The way he says that indicates he does NOT think highly of Autobots.
The term 'Autobot' means nothing to Swift Blade, as it came into fashion about 4 million years after she was taken away from the planet against her will. But she does note his distate for the matter. "I think, despite any misgivings on the matter, the best thing to do is not run or hide. I've been gone a long time, but this is my homeworld. Surely there is no reason to make returning to my rightful home a crime. That line of thinking is hardly rational." She smiles faintly. "But, I will take everything you've said into consideration. I simply have to do things my way to start."
Blast Off raises that optic ridge again, but replies, "It is up to you. I will hope for your sake that you are correct." Not that he thinks she is. *Meh*...not really his concern, is it? "But I think you may eventually find that things are not exactly...*rational* here anymore." Certainly not in his experience lately!
There's another glance out towards the horizon. The Combaticon wants to get going... being a wanted mech means you don't want planetary patrol showing up while you're around. "I should get going then." He turns his head slowly to look at Swift Blade, assessing her and her ship. "Good luck upon returning to Cybertron. ...You'll need it." He considers giving her his name, but she hasn't asked, and -again- he's a wanted mech and all that.
Swift Blade nods her head and sits back down to wait. "We shall see. And if you never hear from me, or see me, again you can be assured it is because you are correct and things are as bad as you say." She gives him a sad smile. "I thought it would be a relief to finally return to my own people. Evidently, this is unlikely to be the case." She sighs and shakes her head. "Thank you again for your warning. I hope your evening is a good one."
Blast Off gives her a polite nod and responds in kind to her show of manners. "I imagine it will. For unlike some, I am at least *free*." Ok, he's stuck in a uncouth rust pit of trash, fighting and disorder called Kaon, but... at least he is still free there. Just as she is... for now. "A good evening to you, as well." With that, the shuttleformer lifts up in the air, transforms... and rockets away back to Kaon.