Trouble In, Trouble Out

Numb. Broken. Shaking. Shiftlock has gone too far, taken too many risks, lived too much by impulse, and everything has finally caught up to her. She's finally committed the most grievous sin in her own standard of moral code: Her actions have harmed others - permanently.
Fortunately it was not to the death, she'd be in even worse shape if someone had died, but it was close enough. She can't stop thinking about Barricade crushing Whirl's innards in his hands, the inner energon leaking from his neck. She can't stop thinking about Whirl bleeding out on the ground, and barely being able to crawl to him under the force of Garboil's sonic assault. She's driving out to Nyon to the only place in the world she has left to go, because she wants to crawl into a little hole and never come out. Clumsily she remembers to give Hot Rod a head's up, but only as a signal she's coming. There's no conversation. There's no dishing of all the latest exploits.
The terse signal is warning enough that something's up, even if it isn't clear what. So Hot Rod can be forgiven for being on edge, weapons hot, as he exits to the streets of Nyon to meet her. He's already in his serious-face mode -- a mode not many are aware he has, admittedly -- and nothing about her brief contact encourages him to discard that. He broadcasts welcome, a << Hey, sure, I'll meet you here, >> and then waits.
It takes longer than usual, and Shiftlock arrives -above- ground in vehicle mode, pulling into an entrance to the little warehouse that has become an impromptu meeting spot. Slowly she comes to a stop in the middle of the open floor, and cuts her engine and her lights, and then just ... sits.
Hot Rod waits a moment as she rolls to a stop. He hangs outside and glances for any sign she's been followed before he closes the doors and heads in to join her. Despite serious-face, despite the caution, his tone is warm and easy as he says, "Hey, what's up with you? Not used to you coming in /not/ by ladder."
She struggles to make herself speak, which manifests as the whine of an engine cycling higher. There's silence after that, and then a second attempt. She doesn't come out of altmode. "Something bad happened." Her tone is low and morose. "Something -really- bad."
Settling next to her, Hot Rod crouches to rest a hand on her roof. He looks worried. Considering what her day-to-day life has included just /how much worse can it get/ for her to say -really- bad. "Hey, whatever happened, we'll get through it. You need to refuel at all?"
"I don't want fuel," she replies with a hollowness in her voice that wasn't there before.
"I'm out. I can't go back to Kaon, I can't go back to the Forge I--" She shudders all over and suddenly it all floods out. It's disjointed and blended with weeping, but she can't hold back anymore. "Okay I found this guy in the Dead End that was robbing people and I got him to stop but then Barricade found us and he knew who this guy was and they hated each other and they started fighting oh primus Hot Rod they tearing each other's struts out and I couldn't stop it I couldn't do anything--!!!"
Hot Rod doesn't look as surprised as he probably should be when she begins, but caught up in the storm of words -- well, would she notice? He moves from a crouch to a seat. Stretching his legs out in front of him, he rests his arm across her. Despite his lack of total surprise, he looks taken aback as she goes on. "What happened then?" Wait, should he be expressing sympathy instead? Okay, fine, he asks is /sympathetically/. "Where are they?"
"Whirl's been fixed up by Ratchet," Shiftlock explains, finally giving out a name. "I just... I couldn't make myself move, so he got up and left. I couldn't... I didn't..." She's flustered and trying to process all of it. "Barricade left but he told me if I ever go back to the Forge he'll kill me!"
"Barricade's a--." Hot Rod hastily leaps ahead of himself before he can get the words out, but it's not hard to guess that whatever he was going to say was going to be /uncomplimentary/. "You're better off without someone like that." He says it with an unnecessary degree of vehemence. In adding little more, however, he more or less complies with Barricade's request: he does nothing to soften her toward him, or lead her back to the Forge. "If Whirl--" Whoever THAT is. "--was with Ratchet, he'll be okay. What about you? You didn't get caught in it at all, did you?"
"No, no, I tried to stop them but I couldn't pull them off each other and Howlback grabbed me and pulled me away from the fight. She wouldn't let me get into it," Shiftlock sobs. "They almost died, both of them, and it was all my fault!"
Hot Rod pats Shiftlock's top. He does so with an awkwardness that can't be denied, but his spark is in the right place, anyway: he /tries/. "Yeah, but they didn't. And it's not like you told them to fight. You did everything you could to stop them. It's not your fault they had history."
Shiftlock finally transforms out of altmode and attempts to cling to Hot Rod for any kind of consolation or security she can hold onto. Part of her is revulsed - No, Hot Rod, it's not because of you: She's afraid that closeness will become a repetition of the painful events that keep playing out in her mind. The rest of her? Well, its grasping at straws. "No, It's all my fault! I thought I was helping Whirl, I -- I did things -- and Barricade said I was stupid for it, that I wasn't thinking ahead, that I didn't know what I was getting myself into and *he was right*!"
No, that's Hot Rod it's grasping, not straws. Duh. It's rather easier for him to pull her against his side and get his arm around her now that she's back in root mode, and he does so. Easy platonic warmth does not seem to be the usual way she gets affection, but there's no time like the present to start. He pats her shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. Barricade kicked you out and threatened to kill you. He doesn't get to have an opinion anymore. Who cares what he said. What's important is that you're okay, and they'll be okay, too." Even stupid Barricade.
"He was right... he said I was stupid for just 'popping my plates for everyone'," Shiftlock mourns quietly. "I just... I thought it would help. I just wanted to make people feel better and it was the only way I could think of that would reach them."
Oh, well. That clarifies things a little. Hot Rod pats her shoulder again with a clearing reset of his vocalizer. "There are a lot of ways to reach people and a lot of ways to help them, but even then it doesn't always make anyone feel better. I don't know. People are complicated. I still don't care what he thinks, though. I only care what you think."
"Thank you," she sniffles, sitting back up. There's no tears to wipe away but she seems to right herself a little more, her doors lifting just a little, not flopped down brokenly against her back. "It stinks!" she announces with a little anger and frustration. "Every time I've tried to help someone it comes back and bites me in the aft! Drift, Blast Off, now this - It's not worth it! It's not worth it anymore when every stray I feed turns around and bites me!" Rubbing her helm she calms down a little. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you like that I just -- I don't know what to do anymore. I lost everything - Barricade really tried to help me, he didn't have to and he just did it and he didn't want anything in return and... and I let him down. He was hurt, and he doesn't want to see me around anymore. I really fragged up this time, and now I lost everything. My place, my job.... I'm just... I'm just a good for nothing Empty now."
Anger is so much easier for Hot Rod to deal with. He backs her up with a, "Yeah!" when she announces that it stinks, totally sympathetic and willing to back her frustration. He doesn't seem to have taken it personally in the slightest. He shakes his head. "Look, don't be sorry. Get mad, stay mad: you've done everything right, and it's not your fault that things ended like this. Maybe it's not their fault, either. All of them are hurting, sometimes hurting bad, because of the /Senate/. Because of corrupt government and people in power who only ever look out for their own interests. You've never been an Empty and you're not one now. That's just what they call people like us so that we never try for more."
"I had something I could do as a way of getting shanix and energon and helping people but that's gone now," Shiftlock sighs. She stares at the floor, hands in her lap. "I hate feeling useless. I hate -being- useless. I know everyone hates the caste system and I know why, but... I need -some- kind of function. Some kind of -purpose- to my existence. If I have no reason to be here, no place, no hope... I..."
"... I wish I'd just fallen into that smelter to start with."
Hot Rod slaps her upside the head. Uhm, gently. "No," he says. Bad turbopup. He rests his hand atop her helm. "You've got a place here. You want a function? Find one. /Make/ one, /take/ it. You want a purpose, you want hope, you want reason? Help us make things better, so that people like Drift and Blast Off and Whirl and Barricade -- they don't have to turn around and bite you because things are /better/. You don't want to do that? Okay. We'll help you find where you want to be, what you want to do."
Maybe a little knock to the head is what Shiftlock needs. She lets some of the pain go. It'll be a little while before she's anything like her old self - if that's even possible now - but she's not balling herself up around the trauma. "You're getting the last shreds of my trust," she says wearily. "I don't know which end is up, so... so you just tell me what to do from here on out, okay? I'll do whatever you want me to do and I won't run off or disobey or anything. I promise."
Hot Rod makes an interesting kind of face at that. It's a little horror: OH GOD, NO, RESPONSIBILITY. But he gets control over it far quicker than one might assume, having had to get used to the R-word quite a lot lately. After a moment, he gets to his feet and turns to offer her a hand up. "Tell you what. For now, why don't we go get you fueled up and start from there?"
"All right. I don't think I really need any but... you're the boss," Shiftlock agrees, looking to Hot Rod with a hopeful little smile. NO PRESSURE HERE, REALLY.
"Yep, I'm the boss," Hot Rod says the brash confidence one might expect of him. Yeah, no pressure. He's cool. Everything is fine. (OH PRIMUS WHY.) "You can just sip it while I catch you up on what we're up to, I guess, and I'll introduce you to the others. Oh -- one thing you should keep in mind, Cheetor -- you'll meet him soon. Well, people are kind of looking for him. So you've never heard of him, okay?" Somewhere, Scorn feels annoyed and she doesn't know why.
"I can keep a secret," Shiftlock agrees. Well, she can but only if she quits plugging into everyone, that makes secret keeping very hard. "Also if Whirl shows up, please show him some mercy. He's.... empurata, Hot Rod. Don't bring it up with him. He's a little weird and a little violent and a little awful, but deep down, there's a spark in there. It's just been buried under vorns of hurt."
"Anyone who's been on the wrong side of the Senate like /that/ deserves a welcome here," Hot Rod says firmly. "As long as he keeps his violence pointed in the right direction -- well, he wouldn't be the only person a little violent." Possibly more awful and weird, though. As they move into what one might just consider a hot spot of insurgent activity, ie, TEAM TROUBLE'S BASE, there are brief pauses for introductions -- Cheetor here, Ricochet there and so on and so forth -- and it doesn't take long at all for it to become clear that gathered here are a certain /type/ of mech (or femme). Definitely a little shared violence. Whirl is totally the wrong color, though.
"If he shows up, I'll let him know. I don't know where he went after he got repairs." Whirl the wrong color? Spiral would be unhappy if she heard that.
Yeah, okay, fair, but she's definitely an /outlier/ in terms of color. Hot Rod collects a couple of rations of plain ol' it'll-fill-you-up-but-it-isn't-going-to-taste-good energon and then settles at a table. He gestures. Have a seat. He pushes the glass over to her. "So what's Whirl's story, then, what you can tell of it?"
Hot Rod and Shiftlock are settled deep within Team Trouble's base -- and while that might be hard to find for some, Nautica's been involved in discussions about closing off or trapping underground access, so it isn't at all hard for her to find her way, and she's very welcome. Just in case she's in the area. You know.
Shiftlock has a seat at the table, but she doesn't take the energon. Still doesn't feel like getting fuelled after all this; there's relief but she's still muted and a little numbed. Her introductions with the others are without life or excitement, which is probably going to make everyone very confused once she's a bit more like herself later on.
What to say about Whirl.
There's really only one way to start this conversation. Looking down she reaches under her hood and pulls out a purple Decepticon emblem on a chain, something to be worn around the neck, and sets it on the table. If Hot Rod's been paying attention to all those underground rumors and what's getting the Enforcers' collective panties in a bunch, that symbol is going to mean something. "Have you ever read anything by Megatron of Tarn?"
This is perhaps not the most convenient of times for Nautica to make her way into the depths of the base; with her typical unintentionally oblivious disregard for social convention, the Camien engineer simply enters without a knock or, really, any warning at all. She does, however, have a bottle of engex in one hand as she approaches, so presumably she at least comes bearing gifts. "So I had an idea, and I thought you might be interested in the..." She trails off, spotting Shiftlock sitting with Hot Rod, and seems to adjust her train of thought. "Wait. Is this a bad time?"
Shiftlock interrupts the pose order, looking over at Hot Rod. "Your call boss."
Having placed the energon before her, Hot Rod does not push it. YET. He reaches out for the emblem to push it back and forth between his hands. He does not show it the respect one might expect from one who has a file stamped DECEPTICON SYMPATHIZER somewhere in the depths of the government's systems. Once upon a time, that was all it said. Maybe if he writes in they'll send him an updated copy of what it looks like now!
"I know about his stuff. How's Whirl tie in ?" Hot Rod asks as he flicks the emblem back to Shiftlock and then twists to greet Nautica with a smile: "Hey! No, come on over." Focusing on the bottle of engex, he adds, "/Definitely/ come over." He doesn't even /twitch/ when Shiftlock calls him boss. ...much.
Shift looks up at Nautica and nods; she remember vaguely that Nautica was one of the bots they were working to get out of the Institute. All Shift could do was find the tunnels underneath that made the escape routes possible, but she was not involved in the fighting. No weapons.
"Whirl is the Senate Enforcer that tried to kill Megatron in his cell at Rodion Police HQ."
"Triple-filtered," Nautica notes to the duo, lifting the bottle and waggling it once to make clear precisely what she's talking about. The Camien may not drink often, but when she does, she's apparently a snob about it. Either way, she strides across the room with a bit more /purpose/ than she's shown since her escape from the Institute, and places the bottle onto the table.
Then Nautica takes in Shiftlock's words, and frowns. "That... can't be good, if he did it on orders. Can it? I mean, I'm no politician, but the Senate /has/ to realize that'd cause an uprising. And if they don't care whether or not an uprising is touched off -- or if they actually /want/ one -- then..." The Camien trails off, looking troubled.
"What does filtering it even do?" asks Hot Rod, proving he's clueless. Alas. Nautica will have to educate him. He knocks back the energon that was in his own glass so that he can clear it for the far tastier engex. He leans, collecting a clean glass for Nautica and setting it at her place. "Whoa -- hang on, Whirl's Senate? And they put him through empurata? --wait, why am I surprised. Look at Shockwave. What's Whirl doing now, then? This was a while ago," he asides to Nautica. "Before people were actually reading or talking about this guy's stuff."
"Megatron's writings were catching on at the time, and the Senate wanted to shut him up, so they brought trumped up, false charges against him in a bar fight in Rodion," Shiftlock explains to both parties. "The problem was that Orion Pax was there and he was seeing through the charges. He was going to release Megatron - which would have been the right thing to do. So the Senate forced Whirl to go do their dirty work and kill him before he could escape. Problem is, Pax stopped it and let Megatron free. That's when the Enforcers came to kill Pax and Whirl both. You remember hearing about how Pax interrupted that Senate meeting, carrying that busted ex-cop in? That was Whirl."
She looks at the Con badge. "Every Decepticon sympathizer and rabble-rouser knows who Whirl is. That's why, when Barricade found us together... he threw me out. I betrayed everything 'Cade believes in."
"Oh..." Nautica nods, accepting the explanation. That evidently makes more sense to her than the Senate trying to touch off a populist uprising in support of the Decepticons, apparently. Shiftlock's lament about being thrown out earns a sympathetic wince. "I think... a lot of people are being divided by loyalties and actions right now. Between wanting to fix the system, or /fight/ the system, or just tell the system to leave them the scrap alone."
The Camien takes the offered glass and opens the bottle, pouring for herself and Hot Rod, and glancing over to Shiftlock in query. "You know the particulates -- the 'gunk' -- you get in some engex? The stuff that makes it cloudy, or that settles into little clumps at the bottom of a bottle? Filtering removes that." Nautica shifts topics with the cheery tone of a born lecturer. Or at least the tone of someone who won't shut up about her interests, anyway. "Some engex tastes better for it, though the really good stuff doesn't need filtering at all. Unfortunately, you can't /get/ the best stuff anymore, so this at least gets rid of the bitter edge, makes the taste smoother."
"Yeah, I remember Pax interrupting," Hot Rod says, playing it all cool and casual like he doesn't have Pax's picture now hanging in his heart. "/That/ was Whirl?" He leans back with the engex cradled in his hands and a thoughtful glance into the distance. "Eh. I don't care. 'Cade' can shove it up his tailpipe."
Studying his glass of engex, Hot Rod tilts it to search for particulates. Nope. Clear. Must mean whoever washed the dishes last did a good job, too. Thank goodness. "Well, thanks for the drink /and/ the information. Uh, you know, I think the last time I had this stuff it was when I first met you," he muses with a tip of the glass to Shiftlock. "You ... might not remember now, I know. Anyway." He lifts the glass. "Frag the system." Eh, eh? How's that for a toast. EH?
Shiftlock frowns at Hot Rod. "I wish you wouldn't say that about Barricade. He really helped me, he really tried. Don't think badly of Whirl either: The Senate ruined him, just like it ruined me. They took his head and hands to keep him under their control. He lost everything that mattered to him, so... I guess I felt like we had something in common."
"And you SHOULD care!" she adds. "Ratbat - the senator that stole me out of a nurturing creche and shoved someone else in my body for one hundred eighty-three years - /he/ is the one funding the pit fights! He's the one giving them weapons and fuel and money, he's the one making a profit off the sale of the videos! He's the one that automated the mines which put hundreds of thousands of mechs out on the street to starve, all for a profit!"
"The... wait, what?" Some of this clearly catches Nautica by surprise, because she puts her glass of engex back down to look at Shiftlock in confusion. "Okay, wait, the whole Functionist nonsense is bad enough to start with -- insecticons, beast-modes, and all are /just/ as capable of great things as any high caste I've met -- but this is now like the third time I've heard someone mention something like that. Or, I suppose, had glimpses of someone else's memories pertinent to that. People stealing protoforms or hatching pods or anything not-quite-yet-done, all to brainwash or implant things or alter CNA." She shakes her head, her expression one of frustration. "What's /wrong/ with your planet?"
Hot Rod holds his hands up all innocence. "Fine, I'll lay off Barricade. Didn't say a thing about Whirl." The rest of her outburst draws a smile to his face. Aw, she's angry. That's so great. "Ratbat is a perfect example of everything that's wrong. We're going to need to figure out how to deal with him now that you're here." Glancing over at Nautica, he gives her a tight smile. "Apparently this isn't the first time we've gone through something like this. Last time they didn't go nearly far enough with changing things, so here we are back again. We lost our way. No way around it. Things are deeply, fundamentally wrong, and it's time we change it."
"The problem is, I don't know that there's a foundation to build that change on," Nautica admits, glancing first to Hot Rod and then over to Shiftlock. "I mean, the Institute was horrible, but the worst part about it... the problem they were trying to solve, the /reason/ Pharma was doing all of that, the reason Tarantulas has done everything he did, everything I saw in his memories..." She looks down at the table, at her glass of engex, as if seeking answers in the pattern of the ripples. "They aren't /wrong/. I might hate their solutions, but they actually were seeing the right /problem/. And without solving that, you're just building on a swamp."
"Yeah, there just isn't going to be enough fuel to go around anymore, but I don't know what to do to fix it either," Shiftlock says. "I've seen so many hurting mechs and femmes and I just want to make all that go away for them. I want to find a way so everyone can be happy and everyone can live." She stares at the table, at that badge that once meant everything to her. "The arachnicon has a wraithfly in its web. The wraithfly will die if the arachnicon eats it, but if the wraithfly isn't eaten the arachnicon dies. I don't know... I don't know how to save them both."
Hot Rod sets down the engex, plants his hands on the table, and leans forward toward Nautica. "No. They were wrong." He is immovable on this point. "It doesn't matter that there's a real problem. They were /wrong/." He elbows up, slumping a little as he settles in. He's no less serious, but less put-his-foot-down-and-pose about it. "If we don't have the resources here, we should /find/ them. The Clampdown just makes the problem worse."
The look Nautica gives Shiftlock is one of sympathy. "Yeah. That's where I am, too. I'd like to save everyone, but... it's not going to be possible. There just isn't enough energon to go around, not here." Then she turns to Hot Rod, and shakes her head. "That's the problem; if we draw energon from the colony worlds, then /they/ just have shortages, too. Right now other worlds -- Caminus -- are fine. But most colony worlds have fairly small populations, so their small amounts of energon aren't a problem. They won't do more than put a /dent/ in Cybertron's needs, but taking it would cause chaos on the colonies too."
Now the Camien turns to pace away from the table. "The insecticons can process raw matter into energy; that's why the Institute wanted to take them apart to study. Figure out if there's a way to make everyone else able to do the same, or a way to process raw matter into a form we could use. And of course the methods were wrong, and I /hate/ what they did. But I understand why, at least for that part. They had plenty of other unrelated evil projects, though, like vivisecting outliers to examine their brain modules." Her tone is somewhat dry at this point, for whatever reason. "Meanwhile, others want to just wipe out more than half of the world's population, since fewer bots means less demand for energy. None of the solutions is /good/, though. So I don't know how to /solve/ this!" Which apparently frustrates her, because the Camien polymath is clearly used to being able to solve things.
Shiftlock gives up trying. "Only the gods can save us now," she mutters glumly.
"I'm not saying we starve the colonies," says Hot Rod with a somewhat startled shake of his head. Remember how I said he was slumping, less put-his-foot-down-and-pose? It's a lie. At Shiftlock's word, he gets to his feet. He braces his hands on the table, and he says, "/No/. It's up to us. We save each other. We find something new, like the Ark was supposed to. We go find the Knights, wherever they went, find whatever they learned, find what we've /lost/. Staying here and -- and /brutalizing/ each other doesn't do anything."
"Aren't the Knights... like, legend? Myth? You think we can actually find them, and they can help?" Perhaps Nautica intends her tone to be one of scientific skepticism, but she can't help it; a note of hope creeps into the Camien's words. Even as she challenges Hot Rod, there's some part of her that'd really like to hear an answer of 'yes', that there's proof they were real and not just some Cybertronian legend. That there's a way to find them. But then her expression turns thoughtful, as if something Hot Rod said has tripped off a new line of thought for her.
"Maybe they can help all of us, if they're real," Shiftlock says hopefully. "Mercury was searching for help, I remember what she did. She lead an entire colony of shifters, she was looking for some kind of cure for them. If there are others out there on colony worlds with the same idea, well... maybe there's something out there to find."
"Ha! Bring your engex." Hot Rod snatches up his glass and then pivots to start walking through the base with the clear expectation that they will follow. He's practicing being a leader. This means not explaining what he's doing.
It takes a moment for Nautica to realize that Hot Rod has simply turned and walked off; whatever new idea she's mulling over certainly had her attention drawn inwards. But she snaps up the engex bottle and moves to follow, with a questioning glance towards Shiftlock. Does he do this /often/?
Shiftlock shrugs and sighs, but doesn't pick up her drink because for the eleventymillionth time she is NOT HUNGRY. Thirsty. Whatever Cybertronians get. At least she has some defiance back. "I'm just following his orders from here on out," she says to Nautica before getting up and walking after Hot Rod.
Hot Rod weaves on through the old, old passages to come to a chamber in better repair than most -- and yet, despite that, they don't seem to have touched the space. There are precious few signs of team trouble's occupation here, but Hot Rod throws his arms wide and asks, "What do you think?" Maybe if you watch a lot of holo-vids about the Knights of Cybertron or maybe if you flip through a lot of picture books about how great everything used to be one might possibly see the resemblance to the Halls of Order. It's probably wishful thinking.
Unfortunately for Hot Rod, Nautica is not particularly a fangirl of the Knights of Cybertron, not on his seemingly-rabid level. Still, after a brief 'little help?' glance towards Shiftlock, she turns to examine the chamber slowly and with great care, as if seeing whether anything trips any memories. Hers from some holovid, or -- perhaps -- someone else's that she's privy to. "Okay...?"
"So what is this place?" Shiftlock has the equivalent of a fourth grade education here. She isn't getting it either.
"/You guys/." Hot Rod looks so disappointed. His spoiler droops. Look. You made his spoiler droop. "It looks just like the Halls of Order from the vids! What if there's stuff /right here/, stuff that proves that they were real, and shows us where they went?"
"And... are these vids actual /historical/ vids?" Nautica asks, slowly. She's pretty certain the answer is 'no', judging from the look she gives Shiftlock. How do we let him down easy? "Because I can tell you, I've seen holovids that are supposedly set on 'Caminus' but were almost certainly filmed somewhere around Nova Cronum."
"Well sorry Hot Rod! I didn't go to primary programming school! I'm lucky 'Cade got me to sit down and read about what the different cities of Cybertron are /named/ because I knew exactly tirejack-squat!" Shiftlock says, hands over her head.
"Yes, they are historical vids," Hot Rod insists at Nautica, although who can blame her for a citation needed. They probably aren't, uhm, /historical/ vids. "And it matches descriptions and anyway, I think they were real." He turns away, facing them again. He straightens and regains enthusiasm. "This is a start. Either way, I think it's an /example/. You should check out some of the other stuff around here. Place is old."
"I... hrm." Nautica regards Shiftlock thoughtfully at the other femme's remark about not knowing that much. Maybe she's considering whether or not she could provide some catch-up instruction. After a moment, she turns her attention back to the room, giving it another look. "It /could/ make for an interesting study, if there is anything here," she allows to Hot Rod, seemingly genuinely. It's certainly /old/, whether or not it's actually the Knights of Cybertron's old stomping grounds. "And I want to learn Old Cybertronian anyway, for..." She hesitates. "Other reasons."
"Well, from what I -do- actually know, Nyon was the original capital of Cybertron, back in the days of Nova Prime. The Acropolex was the capital building, so... yeah. This slag is real old," Shiftlock muses, pitching in her two centi-shanix.
"Totally stomping grounds." Hot Rod looks at Shiftlock with vindication in his sudden grin. "I don't know why it's abandoned. No one cares any more. No one cares about a lot of things, though, except us. So make with the engex." He holds out his glass. "What'd you actually come out here for, anyway?"
After a moment, Nautica tops off the glass with a somewhat amused expression. "I feel like I'm not /doing/ anything," she says finally. "I can't just sit around and pretend that the government isn't, well, a cesspool of corruption. And I can't pretend this isn't my fight, or that the Clampdown will lift and we'll all just go back to Caminus. So I was thinking... you are all trying to keep quiet, right? Mostly keep off the Senate's radar? That probably means it's hard to find good shops for equipment, or frame work. And maybe that's something I could help with."
"Frame work, huh?" Shiftlock asks, thoughtful. "Maybe... maybe I should look into getting some weapons or something. I wasn't forged with any, I just have radar and a grappling line. And a super sweet altmode - I mean come ON, I am a CAR that explores the UNDERGRID. That's gotta be useful for -something-."
Hot Rod gives a low, turning laugh: a 'heh' that catches and rumbles down into brief and sheepish silence. "Uhm, sort of quiet." For a given value of quiet. Where quiet includes Hot Rod and troubles being Hot Rod and troubles. "Definitely prefer to stay out of jail -- and keep Cheetor out of Scorn's hands, by the way. So if anyone asks you about him, you've never seen him." Nautica has probably seen him a few times. /Time to lie/. "But yeah! Like Shiftlock says, it's a problem for a lot of us. I actually wanted your help for something else, too. There've been attacks on Nyon, even the edge of Iacon, and I think they were Insecticons. Flareup and I went and checked it out. I was hoping you could talk to them. We could /really/ use you."
"Being a car of /any/ kind is probably more useful on land than being a submarine," Nautica points out to Shiftlock, not without humor. There's a reason her alt-mode basically never appears, though. "And weapons wouldn't be hard. I'm actually working towards complete frame construction, which might be useful for those who have to hide out, or to fit into a specific role. No needing to spark-swap with someone else if you have purpose-built frames, right?"
And then Hot Rod says the magic word, and her train of thought jumps the track. "Insecticons, really? Do you know if they're late enough instar to be self-aware? Do you think someone's pushing them here -- their queen, for instance -- or is it a smaller group, and just an instinctive territorial response to what they perceive as an encroachment on their area? I mean, I can certainly try to talk to them." She folds her hands in front of her, considering this for a long moment. "In fact, I could probably also try to set a few of your crew up to be able to understand and speak their language. The physical modification doesn't take much, but learning the language might take a bit longer. Still, it could be useful for the scouts, if they /do/ run into insecticons. Nice to at least be able to speak to the neighbors without having to teach them your language first, right?"
At the mention of weapons, Ricochet gets Shiftlock's attention and calls her over. Guns are something of a hobby of his, considering that his best buddy transforms into one and is also his -life support system-. Distracted Shiftlock is distracted as Jazz's moldbrother goes into his schtick.
"Speakin' of bugs," Spiral, who has been following the whole time as an NPC. "Hey. Rod. There's one upstairs waiting for you - the new guy." She snorts. "Poor sap must have a bad case of whatever got into Rico with those stupid lookin' purple flames on 'im."
"Well, we can't all have gold flames," Hot Rod says to poor, mismatched Spiral with a flashing grin. "Thanks for the heads up. Come with me and say hi to Kickback?" Glancing at Nautica with the offer, he sifts back through her words: "What's... instar? I couldn't tell if they were self-aware. They looked smaller, though, but I'm not sure what that means. It could've just been that we didn't get a good look at them. Also don't really have any answers on the rest of it. That's kind of why I wanted you. Shiftlock is probably the first one you'll want to teach to speak it, because of her experience in the tunnels. Me. That's a good place to start, anyway. I'll figure out who else."
"Smaller might mean they're still acting mostly on instinct, not really self-aware in any meaningful way. No concept of 'I' and individual will. If they survive long enough and conditions are right -- or if someone forces them into it -- they wake up, like Kicky and the others," Nautica explains, picking up the engex bottle and glass again as she moves to follow Hot Rod. "And sure; I'll have to implant a small module in each of your speech systems, so that you can modulate your own EMF patterns and actually 'hear' what the insecticons say when they modulate theirs. I should warn you, though, some bits of it are kind of... involuntary."
"Well, we didn't really get a very good look at them, so I'm not sure I could say." Hot Rod navigates the twisty, windy halls with an unfailing sense of direction despite the confusion of the passages. It suggests more familiarity than just the recent occupation with the others, and his whole attitude is that of one to a favorite playground. "Maybe aware, maybe not, but either way, no way I could talk to them without you guys. Just how involuntary does it get?" he asks a little warily as they come out to join Kickback. "Hey, mech!" he calls ahead.
"Oh hello Mr. Hot Rod!" Kickback greets pleasantly. He's been reading about formal titles and assumes that they are always proper to use no matter what situation you're in. "Sorry I fell behind, Miss Nautica. All that driving around left me very hungry, I had to forage for a bit."
"If it's a noise you might make involuntarily normally, you'll probably make it in wavespeech, too," Nautica explains. "Like... a scream of pain, for instance." Probably best not to ask precisely how she knows that one.
Kickback's arrival, however, earns a smile from Nautica for the young insecticon. "No problem. I've just been having a little chat with Hot Rod about a couple of things. Including maybe teaching him and a few of his friends wavespeech, in case they run into any insecticons in the ruins. Like I told him, it's only polite to be able to understand -- and speak to -- your neighbors." Especially when misunderstandings might lead to being eaten, not that she actually says that aloud.
"Just Hot Rod," he hastens to correct. He sidesteps around the issue of involuntary noises to dive right into that of mysterious figures in the ruins: "I'm pretty sure there already are some, too! I was asking her if she might be able to check them out, talk to them. What about you? I didn't get a great look at them last time, so I couldn't say if they were smaller or not. Whatever they are, they're definitely angry -- admittedly, probably because people keep trying to throw things at them or worse if they see the. I don't really blame them. I just want to make sure it doesn't get out of hand."
"Neighbors? Smaller?" Kickback's a little confused about this. Wavespeech and Insecticons and whaaaaa? "Did you run into other Insecticons around here?" he sounds very worried about this suddenly.
"Hot Rod said they might've run into some insecticons on the edges of Nyon," Nautica explains. The mention that people are /throwing/ things at the insecticons causes her mood to darken. "That's... you have to stop them from doing that. I can't imagine it's going to help /anything/ if you have angry insecticons tunneling into your base because they're defending their territory. Right, Kickback?"
"Look, people are scared, that's the problem. They get scared, they make whatever it is scared, everyone attacks each other and everything is awful." Setting his glass down with Nautica's bottle somewhere that they will totally remember them later and /not litter/, Hot Rod turns to give them both his full attention. "I think so, Kickback. I wasn't sure about it, whether or not they were Insecticons, until recently. You up to talking to them?"
"Yes, I'll try," Kickback says. "I'm a little concerned about them being down there, either that's a deep hive, in which case we'll have -real- problems, or it's a feral hive that escaped captivity and --" He pauses. "Okay both of those situations are real problems. But I digress, I'll give it a try. I'm afraid I'm going to look a bit suspect being a car, however.:"
"Is there any way we could reset your alt-mode?" Nautica asks Kickback thoughtfully, but then quickly dismisses the idea. "Though I suppose traveling someone to scan another Swarmer would take too long, really. And even still, you'll look less suspicious than /I/ will, I imagine. But maybe with both of us there to talk, it'll go better."
Hot Rod looks gently disapproving of the fact that these mystery Insecticons might not approve of Kickback being a car. /How racist/. "What's a deep hive?" he asks with a faint note of concern. "You guys want to go see if we can find someone now?" He rocks back on his heels, ever ready to go do a thing. Doesn't matter what the thing is. He'll do it!
"If I get around some of the swarmers I can revert to my original shape. It shouldn't take much, and if you know where they are, we can go immediately." Kickback notices Hot Rod's go-go-go impatiences and kind of likes it. It makes the speeder interesting. "Deep hives are groups that live underground, far below the cities, in the undergrid," he says on the way to the location in question. "The older and deeper the hive, the more chance you're going to run into warpers. Warpers can parasitize the brain modules of other Cybertronians and override their motor systems and will, making anyone into a drone to serve the hive."
"Like Bombshell," Nautica murmurs. To judge from her tone, out of all her insecticon allies -- such as they are -- Bombshell's the one who she still doesn't entirely trust. Back before he knew she could understand wavespeech, she heard him talking about wanting to subvert her and add her mind to the hive as a resource, after all. "We'll be careful. I'd rather we manage to make an alliance with them so they don't end up in conflict with Hot Rod's troops. Especially not if that conflict erupts at a point when someone who speaks wavespeech /isn't/ here to help try to defuse it."
"Well, that's. Awful." Hot Rod stares at Kickback with some of his eagerness blunted the words. "Any way to tell warpers from other Insecticons? Keep them from doing that?" He includes Nautica in the question, glancing back at her. He twitches when she calls his friends 'troops'. "Yeah. Okay, you know what, with the warpers thing -- we're definitely going now. Come on." Rather than lead them deep inside the base, he heads out and leads away from it. "There's a place nearby -- used to be a transport hub or something. Underground, but you can get to it from out here. That's where I saw them last."
"Well, warpers -do- serve a function," Kickback explains casually as Hot Rod changes direction and leads them out. "They protect the hives from being attacked by other hives in territory disputes; it's a lot less wasted resources if you can simply take control of several thousand drones instead of fighting them. More workers for your own hive. Insecticons aren't the only things that live down there either, there are very old creatures, nothing like what I've seen on the surface. They're much stronger than Insecticons and the warpers are an excellent defense to keep them at bay."
"It helps keep your homes secret too. Hive Hunters go very deep to steal hatching pods and energon and they aren't there to reason with you a language they don't understand about why they shouldn't rob you of your progeny."
"Ugh!" Nautica clearly hadn't realized the extent of how hive hunting worked; her expression as she follows along is one of obvious disgust. "That's awful. I'd hope that none of them actually know that insecticons can be sentient -- that they think they're just taking animals -- but I don't have that faith any longer." She's seen too much so far on Cybertron.
After a moment, the Camien shifts the topic to something of a little more intellectual interest to her. "What sort of 'older, stronger things' do you mean? If I /did/ go exploring in older ruins below the surface, hypothetically, what might I expect to find there?"
Hot Rod growls a little for no good reason when Kickback says they serve a /function/. The only thing he says is, "They might down there, but up here, they could get a lot of innocents in trouble. Last time I saw people getting their processors fragged up it was at the hands of the Institute, too. Warpers might be good for defense -- but they could be pretty awful on offense." It's not far from their base to the transport point in question, which emerges ahead of them as a hole in the ground. "You should talk to Shiftlock about going down there, Nautica. She's specialized for tunnels and run into some of the things, too. Don't go spelunking without a buddy."
His antennae twitch a little at that growl. Curious, this behavior in Hot Rod. "I am aware of what problems they can be. I'm... very concerned about my kinsman, Bombshell. He's so angry with what they did to him. He's been scarred mentally and physically and he's angry with all hollow-kind." Kickback walks alongside Nautica and Roddy, looking ahead to that hole in the ground. "As for what else is down there? Well, we call them 'demons'. Large creatures with fangs and claws that breathe fire. We're their preferred food source."
"Let's just say I acquired a bunch of someone else's memory files. Really, really old files, ones that seemed to go all the way back to the Primordial days. And I can't help but think maybe there's something in there that would help. If nothing else, it's more tools to apply to the problem." Nautica taps the side of her head for emphasis with one finger, continuing, "But it's all locked up here. I don't have the context to get at most of it. Just... glimpses. Images. Bits of Old Cybertronian. So I want to try to find the contextual keys to unlock them properly."
It's clear -- probably even to the Camien herself -- that while she listed genuine motives, she'd try to unlock it anyway simply out of curiosity. And that curiosity is only further piqued by mention of 'demons', but talk of Bombshell trumps that line of inquiry. "I wish I could find a way to help the others, even Bombshell. Even if I don't trust him. I still feel partly responsible for what happened to you all in there."
"I don't blame him for being angry," Hot Rod admits with a resigned sigh. "I just don't want to see any of mine get hurt as a result." Any of his friends, he means, right? Definitely not followers or troops AND REALLY NOT MINIONS. He flicks on his lights as they approach the collapsed tunnel. He leads the way down the broken and twisted metal and masonry and into the dark. "Watch your step. And your head. And be careful nothing else breaks." Promising! "There's really a /lot/ of old stuff around here, Nautica. You should hang around, see if it jogs anything loose."
"You are not in any way responsible, you were as trapped as I was," Kickback consoles Nautica. "I was obedient to Prowl's commands because Arcee thought Prowl had my best interests in mind. He lead me to the back of a transport with others in chains and that is how I came to be within the walls of that horrible place." He follows Hot Rod into the dark. "You should listen for any clicking sounds, and you should search for warm places, plenty of humidity. A constructed hive will have a very hot climate."
"Thanks," Nautica notes to Kickback, though it doesn't seem to really completely erase the lingering guilt. Maybe she identifies too much with the insecticons; perhaps she needs more than a handful of friends who aren't either a) Camien or b) insecticons. Either way, she looks around their dark and decrepit surroundings, just to see if anything /does/ jar anything loose as Hot Rod suggests. She doesn't seem to have much hope that it will, though; this place is probably far too recent to touch on any of those memory fragments.
Hot Rod mutters something uncomplimentary about Prowl. It's /very rude/. "Clicking, huh?" He cants his head, tilting it to gather as much sound as possible. He retraces his steps until he comes to the crack in the wall where he and Flareup ran into trouble before. Rather that would anyone's dignity, this time he says, "I'll go first, then you guys follow." There are no sounds of clicking beyond, but as soon as they cross, it's evident to Kickback, at least -- and maybe Nautica -- that there have been Insecticons in the area recently. Tracks, scents, whatever telltales tell tales to them best, they are there. It's a thinner crack in the earth than the paved passage they just left, but it shows signs of opening up to finished rock ahead. "Man, nothing here," says Hot Rod in disappointment. And there's no clicking. Yet.
Oh he sees it all right, the signs of chewing and scraping here and there and the chemical trails left by scouts as they passed through the area. Kickback stops and feels the walls with his hands. "You're right that there's been Insecticons here, they're looking for food, same as I was." He leans forward and -- is he smelling the wall? He is. "... This area is very rich with energon. There's a powerful scent here, I can't put my finger on it but it... it makes me hungry and uncomfortable at the same time."
Nautica clearly takes Kickback's commentary seriously; she pulls a small scanner free from her belt, tapping it live. She'll take readings as they get further in, trying to figure out what might be 'different' or 'off' about the energon that her onetime protege senses. "Should we continue further in?"
Watching Kickback, Hot Rod gives him a faint smile. "If you're uncomfortable, I'm uncomfortable," he says with a laugh that chases away unease. WHATEVER. They can handle anything. "You know why? Something putting you on edge?" He nods absently to Nautica's question, starting forward as she finishes asking. "Might as well. We didn't get any farther, and there's really nowhere to go out there. Uh, just how hard should we be listening for clicking?"
As they exit the narrow crack into the larger, rough-finished stone tunnel, there's a distant scrape that could be stone adjusting, metal on stone, or maybe the muted echo of clicking farther in the dark.
"I don't know. I've never encountered this smell before, I don't know what to call it --" The scraping noise catches his attention and he turns around to face the noise. "--There. Did you hear that? There's a noise down that way." He points to the aforementioned tunnel. "That -might- be what we're looking for. Or it might be a building settling. Or it might be certain death, but we won't know for sure until we get there!" He's trying to be upbeat and encouraging too, because he's spent entirely too much time around Hot Rod.
"It probably says something about how this planet is warping me that I almost find that approach to life comforting, in some way," Nautica muses, as she follows along. Her little hand-scanner continues to take readings as they go. Just, you know, for posterity.
Hot Rod laughs again and this time it comes easier. "Either way, it sounds like fun," he says with a grin at Kickback. The correct approach to danger is a moment's reflection and a quiet mutter of, 'Cool' so Kickback is /right on track/. He eagerly approaches the noises, and it becomes all the more clear as they approach that it /is/ clicking. "Think I should leave this to you two," he says, slowing but not quite falling back.
++ Hello? ++ Kickback offers in wavespeech to whatever Insecticons might be in the area. His wings flip up and to Nautica and Hot Rod it's going to sound like he's just clicking a lot. ++ Are you well? Is your Self-Aware well? ++
++ We come as friends, ++ Nautica offers as well, though otherwise remains silent. She's perfectly content to let Kickback take the lead on this particular interaction.
Hot Rod listens as hard as he can to -- nothing, let's be honest. He's not equipped to understand. He settles back and tries to be patient, but this has never been a particular skill of his. "What are they saying," he hisses soon enough.
The clicking volume turns from about a 1.5 to 10. The end of the passage comes alive with hundreds of glowing optics as small swarmers come in first, crawling over each other like rats trying to escape a sinking ship. Larger workers and the ponderous thud of soldiers rumble in the distance. Jackpot - you've hit bug.
++ FRIENDS? WHAT HOLLOW COMES AS FRIENDS? ++ is the overwhelmingly loud response in wave. ++ First you crush our nest to bury us alive, then you come back to finish the job?! Will you try to drag us into your filthy hovels again?! ++
Kickback takes a step back, antennae swept back behind his head like the ears of a frightened cat. "... Oh they are not happy. They're mentioning being crushed by rocks?"
++ We have done nothing with rocks, and have no desire to harm you. Not all Hollows are one hive, ++ Nautica replies, trying to lend what assurance she can. Then she pauses, frowning as she glances over to Kickback and Hot Rod. "Wait. Dragged into hovels /again/? They've been raided by hive hunters, I'm guessing, which could mean that Hot Rod and his friends aren't the only ones lurking in the ruins."
"Uh. That was an accident," Hot Rod says with a sharply sheepish look that suggests he knows /exactly/ what being crushed by rocks was about. "Mitteuous Plateau," he explains. "It's /really/ unstable, but -- well, never mind. Could you apologize? There are a lot of people who've been displaced who find shelter where they can, but I don't know about any hive hunters."
The look Nautica gives Hot Rod probably requires no translation into wavespeech for the insecticons observing them to understand. It speaks pretty universally to, 'You dropped a PLATEAU on their hive?' Apparently, she was caught a bit by surprise by this particular admission. One might almost think she was trapped in some kind of research institution when that happened.
Kickback does his best to explain the situation to the hive, and they argue with him for at least a few minutes - they don't initially believe that it was 'accidental' but having another Insecticon vouch for the earnestness of the claim does eventually mollify them.
++ It is well then. We have eaten the dead so that they may be reborn; if these hollows mean us no ill, then we shall leave them alone. We do not fully trust them; if they attack we will show no mercy or forgiveness.++ A few very small insecticons approach Nautica curiously, feelers waving in her direction. ++This female seems to be able to speak; perhaps she is the only hollow that has molted far enough to be sentient?++
Oh my PRIMUS it was only a tiny part of a plateau. Underground. Hot Rod meets her stare with a wide-eyed shrug. What? WHAT? What'd he do??
Nautica kneels down, so that the smaller insecticons can better investigate her. ++ Most Hollows can speak, ++ she informs the assembled insecticons. ++ But Hollows speak with waves of sound through the air, like this... ++ She pauses, and then says aloud, "This is how Hollows talk." Poor Hot Rod must find the experience a little surreal.
Nautica then returns to wavespeech, adding a little sadly, ++ Most are deaf to wavespeech, and wouldn't be able to speak it even if they could hear it. So most Hollows believe that insecticons cannot speak, and are not sentient. ++
"You dropped a plateau on them?" Kickback asks Hot Rod, a little incredulous. "No wonder they're upset. You crushed a good number of them. At any rate they've accepted the apology tentatively, they're still very mistrustful so if someone attacks them - and they are having a hard time telling the differences between non-insecticons - all bets are off. You might want to get the word out."
And then a very large soldier tromps into the passageway, coming right up to Kickback and Nautica's position. It's like an Ultralisk, but in beetle form. ++ We have travelled a long distance from the wastelands to find you, Seeder. It is time that you come home. Your duties go unfulfilled -- and -- ++ Its optics flare open and it hisses. ++ /Have you corrupted yourself with a hollow's body?!/ ++
Kickback coughs and his wings sink. "... Guys... they've come to Nyon... for /me/."
Hot Rod jerks in surprise when Nautica talks aloud and tips his attention toward the Insecticons. He smiles uncertainly. Does smiling translate as friendly, or as threat? He shifts his stance into a somewhat defensive posture when Kickback addresses him. "It wasn't a whole plateau! What kind of mass scale planetary disaster do you think I'm capable of here?" Don't answer. "It was like -- a rock slide. Anyway, I've already been trying to get people to back off. It'll help if they do, too. Why are they here for you? Specifically? /You/?"
"I gathered that," Nautica remarks to Kickback, perhaps a touch dryly. Even as she looks up at the very, very large beetle. This, it seems, merits standing up again, just so she doesn't feel quite so small. It's easier to try to figure out how to react to this when you don't feel small. To the insecticons who /had/ been speaking to her before, she adds politely, ++ Perhaps we will speak again another time. ++ A time one hopes might be less burdened with things like giant angry beetles.
++ Your hive has been without its Self-Aware too long, Kickback. You are ordered by the Queens to return to the Great Hive, now, and begin your rebirthing, ++ the soldier announces to Kickback. ++ Shrapnel and Bombshell are being summoned as well. You will remove this -- this /disgusting/ mockery of altmode and you will return to your proper home. ++
The little insecticons near Nautica bounce happily. ++ Yes yes, you can come, if you speak you can come! ++ Well, there's Nautica's ticket. No word on Hot Rod but the big guy is keeping at least one optic on him.
"... Because they said I was stolen from their hive and they want me to go home," Kickback translates for the benefit of non wave-speakers. Such as the guy with the spoiler back there.
Hot Rod asks, "Hunters?" in a tone that, despite lacking a great deal of context, holds no little contempt. "They stole you? Why do they even /do/ that. So basically -- you'd be going back to your family? Do you /want/ to go back to your family?"
"They say they /need/ him to go home," Nautica corrects, for Hot Rod's benefit. "As I understand things... a hive is like an engine. Maybe there are some pieces it can run without, but others... take them away and it breaks. Apparently, Kickback was meant to be one of those pieces."
After a moment, she turns her attention back to the large beetle. Because, hey, she'll try diplomacy! Windblade does it all the time, how hard can it be? The beetle will probably love her. ++ I don't believe Kickback meant offense. He chose a temporary alt-mode to disguise himself when he had need to walk among Hollows. ++
That question of Hot Rod brings Kickback to a stand still. Does he actually want to go home? What and where is -home-, anyways? All he's ever known was Arcee looking after him, and being here among friends. It's conflicting; there's a strong sense of duty to his kin that comes naturally, but home...?
Home's right here.
"... I don't know. I should probably go with them just to get them out from under this city and to a safer place, and find out more about where I came from but... I don't know."
The soldier vents, the snort of an old bull. ++ That is an acceptable thing, to camouflage for safety; it will not be acceptable before the Queens. ++ Well, Nautica's just being reasonable and not offensive, so there's no real desire in the others to attack. They're only drones, after all; they're doing the jobs they were hatched to do. ++ Kickback. You are to return home -immediately-. ++ Looks like it's decision time.
Hot Rod tilts his helm and admits, "Getting them away from Nyon is important -- keeps them safe, keeps mine safe, keeps idiots safe." Some might say that he is repeating himself with the last two points, but...! "Kickback, if you can do something that will get them to retreat -- it'll save people. It's not a bad idea to learn more by going and then decide once you've found out more, is it?" He grins, cocky again as he says, "And if you need to get busted out again, just let me know. We'll do something nice and low-impact, no harm done." Good thing no one speaks Hollow, right. RIGHT.
Well, /Nautica/ does, and she certainly knows more than one other insecticon that can speak the way the average Cybertronian does; maybe that's why she gives Hot Rod a Look. The mention of /multiple/ Queens earns a definite perk of curiosity; it's almost palpable. The Camien is far too keen on knowledge for knowledge's own sake. But then she turns her attention to Kickback again, instead of questioning the soldier. "It has to be your choice, Kicky," she says, finally. "But Hot Rod's right about one thing -- it /will/ keep people safe. Those in Nyon who might stumble into the insecticons, /and/ the insecticons who might get into a fight with the people in Nyon."
The engineer looks over the soldier, as if suspecting he understands what she's saying perfectly well. "But if you /do/ choose to go, I'm not going to let you vanish entirely, alright? We went too long after we got out of the Institute without talking, as it was and I want to check on the others as well eventually." Maybe after rebuilding the trio, she figures she has an obligation to perform in-warranty service checks?
"All right then." Kickback makes his decision. Maybe a trip to the homeland will be very educational and he'll be able to reason with the queens about this whole 'purge the population' thing Tarantulas was getting on about. He is perfectly willing to shoulder the responsibility and make a call for the greater good of all, even if it means sacrificing something of himself. Already, he has gained more leadership points than Hot Rod probably ever will.
++ Let's move out then, ++ he acknowledges the soldier. "I'll come back as soon as I can, all right, Miss Nautica? Let Arcee know I found my original hive and that I hope to catch up with her soon, too. And with you as well, Mister Hot Rod!" Sorry, the politeness isn't going away.
That being said, the swarm turns around and begins its march to the Acid Wastes, with Kickback following along as one of their number.
Hot Rod shuts up with a hands up and open gesture at Nautica. He's harmless. Look how harmlessly silent he is being! He folds his arms and watches as Kickback willingly follows the swarm. "You better call!" he shouts after Kickback. Waiting until most of the Insecticons have retreated, he asks, "Should be quieter around Nyon, now?"
Nautica watches the insecticons march off, her expression hard to read. Pride and sadness mixed together... perhaps something like watching a little brother or a nephew march off to a difficult task, and wondering whether or not you'll see them again. Or if you do, how much they'll be changed. "Yeah," she agrees finally. "It probably will."
"Good. Probably good for Kickback and his hive, too, for him to check in," says Hot Rod with baseless optimism that it will all work out. "Hope it helps, after everything he's been through. Maybe it would help the rest of them too." He stretches and looks around, casting a glance back toward the exit. "Well. That's /one/ problem. I've got another for you, if you've got time," he says, beginning to pick his way back out.
With one last glance into the tunnels that the insecticons marched away on, Nautica turns to follow Hot Rod. "Have you started collecting problems?" she asks, though her tone suggests she's trying to make a joke out of it. "Because I thought this planet probably had enough already."
"Gotta collect them to fix them," Hot Rod says with warm acceptance of her joke. "Ignoring them sure doesn't do it. This one's a chemistry problem. I need an antidote, I think--." He explains as they go, pulling a tracker for her to study and explaining the delicacy required: from /Starscream/ and for /Blurr/ and by the way Decepticons on one side or else how else would Starscream have the pull to get Drift repairs in the Forge, and on the other side a mind-controlled agent of the IAA, Senate, Autobots -- /whatever/. So, delicacy, precision, skill, and a whole lot of genius. Have fun figuring out a way for Hot Rod to neuter that tracking-poison while at the same way keeping it functional. Bet Nautica wishes she stuck to the embassy, now.