Deliveries, Stalkers

The Acropolex stands the beating, broken heart of this portion of Nyon. Tucked in the yawning entrance of what was once some sort of temple or something nearby, Hot Rod keeps one eye on the sky in case of imminent delivery. "So you're basically good at everything, right, Nautica?" he asks, having asked two of the others at the base out to watch with him and help swiftly transport whatever volatile and illegal things he is having smuggled in now. Who knows when they'll actually get here, though. Camera might have even moved onward by then.
"Uhm, I don't know that I'd put it that way," Nautica replies, tearing her attention away from studying the temple remains they shelter in. She's been taking notes of the faded markings on the walls, as if in hopes they might be writing or imagery she could restore later. "I mean, I'm not a good fighter. Or a leader. Or, apparently, a diplomat. But if it's an intellectual or artistic field, I can pick it up quickly." She pauses as if about to say more, and then falls silent.
"Sell yourself short some more, why don't you?" HighDef mutters. She's positioned near the edge of the ruins. Easy enough for her to hide, small as she is, and her optics function just swell. Here to watch and for small talk. And to illusion up escape if it comes down to it.
You'd think that just getting (busted) out of jail after a brief but traumatic stay at Kolkular might afford Blast Off a little well-earned quiet and relaxation- some time to recuperate and try to figure which end is up again. Instead, it seems like the responsibilities have been coming on fast and furious- including his responsibility to transport cargo for Swindle to this band of rebels in Nyon. Blast off would rather just crawl into his recharge berth and not come back out again for a few vorns, but alas it is not meant to be.
At least chores, even annoying ones like mere "transport duty*, keep his mind a bit off the horrific experiences of Kolkular. Ones that are still too fresh. Casting a wary scanner as he goes, the shuttle approaches Nyon and starts his landing procedures.
Grinning over at HighDef, Hot Rod echoes her: "Yeah, don't sell yourself short. If you're good at something, claim it. Ignore the rest." Life advice from Hot Rod. Only admit to the stuff you're great at. "Okay, so strategy, tactics, logistics -- it's the last one which is about people not starving, right?" These are the kinds of questions you want to hear out of a leader. Hot Rod's unabashed about asking, for all the great gaps it implies in his education. /How else to learn/. "Because that's really going to be important if things are as tight as you say." Spotting Blast Off on approach, he radios in surprise: << Hello, wanted criminal! >>
This is ever so reassuring to hear, Hot Rod. Nautica's expression clearly shows that. "Just what /is/ our status when it comes to supplies?" she asks after a moment. Notably, she doesn't do anything to deny how bad the energy crisis could become. But before she can ask anything more, there's the sound of an approaching shuttle, and she glances up to spot... "Blast Off?"
"Great." HighDef switches from mutter to marginally better articulated disgust. "You want me to toss up a cover image now or are we talking--" She glances at Hot Rod. "Wait, are we talking to him?"
Hot Rod's "greeting" causes a surprised hitch in the shuttle's engines. Ok, Blast Off wasn't expecting *that*. There's a long silence as the Combaticon mulls a response, or if he should even dignify that *with* a response. But perhaps he'd better at least radio in for final landing confirmation. << So says the individual who ordered this cargo. Do you want me to deliver this or not? >> Yes, Blast Off displays his usual warm and friendly demeanor. (Ha.) He thinks to add, <<*Blurr* is not there, correct?>>
"Ever-changing." Hot Rod, we are sorry to report, actually has to stop and sound a little serious as he answers her. He grimaces, wiping his hand down his face to ease the expression away. He glances at HighDef and then back to Nautica, implied that change is largely embodied in people. So many people. He settles into a smile. "I'll corner you about it some time soon, okay? I wanna make sure we do things right," he says, eager and earnest.
Tilting his head back up to watch Blast Off's approach, Hot Rod says, "Yeah, no. He's a good guy. Well, goodish. He's not bad, anyway. A pain in the aft, but he's got the stuff. Wait until he lands, then project something nice and innocuous for any spies." Speaking of: << No, you're clear. >>
"Okay," Nautica offers in answer to the talk of supplies, but then drops the topic. Instead, she watches the shuttleformer land, perhaps uncertain quite what to think of his involvement. After all, their last encounter did not go entirely smoothly.
"Innocuous. Fine," HighDef tersens suspicious-like. But she goes quiet to survey the landscape. Find its ~potential~.
Blast Off hears that and replies, his cultured voice flat and calm, <<Understood. Clear for landing.>> The brown and purple space shuttle does just that. When Blast Off was in jail (this most recent time, that is), all his walls came crashing down- leaving him feeling raw and numb. He's withdrawn within himself even more, though there still seem to be those twho can draw him out once in awhile. Mostly, though, he's just trying to not feel at all.
Practically on autopilot, the shuttle comes in for a landing. Once on the ground, his cargo bay door opens. Warm metal on the underside surface begins to ping and creak and cool down once more.
"Hey, Blast Off, nice break out," Hot Rod compliments(???) as he nods to HighDef. Innocuous time! "Sort of thought Prowl had given up on trying to catch you. How'd they end up getting you?" Any thought that Blast Off might not want to talk about it is clearly nowhere in his head.
"Blast Off," Nautica greets as well, after a moment's hesitation. "Didn't realize you were the one they had running supplies out here." (Then again, perhaps Blast Off didn't realize Nautica was with the Nyon rebels, so maybe that's only fair.)
HighDef promptly film-reels cover. What visual splendor she has wrought, a horde of minicons piling out of a shuttle to greet worn-out bots clumping from the temple ruins, worn-out bots in desperate need of repairs. The minicons are carrying such poor succor as empty cans and rusted bolts, but hark, they are banging bolts and cans together. It's a parade of music, bringing joy to the failing. All that. It's super innocuous.
Blast Off ...isn't sure how to respond to *that* either. Of course, the aloof and private shuttleformer has *no* wish to start talking about his recent experiences. No, he'd rather just forget them... if only he could. He attempts to deflect Hot Rod compleetly. << I... what? I... I did not come here for small talk. Just unload the cargo so I can be on my way. >>
Then Nautica appears, and it's possible there's the slightest hitch of his engines. He remembers their last encounter, too, and the possibility that she might take out that weird weapon of hers and use it against him while he sits here on the ground in shuttle mode like a sitting petro-duck flashes immediately across his mind. His speakers broadcast some trace of uncertainty. << Nautica. what... what is she doing here? >> And then, even more confusingly.... there's a horde of minicons coming out of his cargobay playing music and what the slag is all this anyway? Ok, Blast Off knows his mind was messed with, but he didn't think he was *still* hallucinating. <<And what the slag is /that/? >>
"/That/ is cover," Hot Rod reports brightly. "Nice work." Beneath the cover of helpful minicons, he waves Nautica forward to unload more volatile cargo. "Yeah, I guess he and Swindle go way back, so he keeps getting sent out here. Nautica's helping. She's a helper."
There's still a wariness to Nautica's expression as she regards her onetime acquaintance. But finally, she offers, "Glad you're alright," and moves at Hot Rod's indication to go and work on unloading the supplies that Blast Off carries for their happy little band of misfits.
HighDef adds a few more holographic flourishes. Minicons somersaulting around Blast Off. They're practically choreographed. From a distance, no one'd even be able to see the actual 'bots on the scene. Lets HighDef feel useful. She's too small for carting stuff around, herelf.
Blast Off grumbles inwardly about this "cover"... but actually, given what happened not too long ago... it's not a bad idea. Even he has to admit that, so he simply tries to do what he does with anything he finds annoying- and ignores it. Ah. Better. Oddly enough, he doesn't even mind it all *that* much. Since his jailtime, he's found things that he usually enjoys rather unpleasant, and vice versa.
Regarding Nautica, he mulls it over, scans her for any obvious weapons and, finding none, decides to let it be. << I see. >> If they want more supplies from Swindle (and they do seem to need them), laying another trap would be really stupid. Though he's still getting the slag out of here if anyone starts telling him where a stash of fine enerwine and other treasure is. Her response is a little surprising, actually, and he mulls that over, too. Still- she's a fellow *space-worthy* craft, and he finds himself saying, << ...I haven't seen you in awhile. >> Such a flair for the obvious! As the three of them come in to unload, he drones on with the usual greeting everyone always gets: << Mind your feet. I do not want to have to clean stains and mud on my interior. >>
No one will ever be able to tell if Hot Rod drags his feet a little more than he otherwise might, like an unruly child doing his best to leave marks on the gym floor, right? --nah, it's pretty obvious, they can probably tell. As soon as Blast Off tells him not to do the thing, he does the thing. A little. Once. Just to make a point. "Yeah, I bet you haven't," he says, injecting himself right into Blast Off's attempt to small talk Nautica, "what with you being in jail. You still didn't say how they caught you, by the way!"
Nautica gathers up what she can -- alas, her altmode is really not that useful for carrying cargo anywhere, unless it's undersea or short distances in space -- and trucks the containers back out into the shelter of the temple they had sought refuge within. "Yeah. I've... been preoccupied. Had a lot of things to think about," she offers to Blast Off, finally. "I decided I better know more about the realities of Cybertronian politics, if I was stuck here, and I haven't really enjoyed what I've found." Which might explain why she's here among the rebels.
HighDef keeps up her cover, skulking into the shuttle only far enough to keep an eye on her fellow rebels and Blast Off. She doesn't seem to have much to add to the conversation, although better believe she's listening in.
Blast Off's engines might sputter again if they were still running. This Hot Rod mech doesn't know the meaning of *privacy* and *let it rest*, does he? The Combaticon isn't quite sure how to deal with such... nosiness. His voice drops down and falters slightly, tension crackling once or twice across his speakers. << I... I would rather not talk about it. They simply... they simply /did/. >> Yes, so helpful.
Nautica gives him something else to focus on, so he does. << Ah. Yes. So... so you see now that the government cannot be trusted? >> HighDef gets scanned too. << And this is... ? >> He better know everyone actually entering inside. I mean, really, coming inside his cargo bay, wiping their feet on his floor... if they're getting in /that/ close he ought to at least know their names!
Faced with blunt refusal, even Hot Rod gets it. He does! He says, "Okay," and then drops it. He introduces HighDef by calling her, "Another helper," and leaves her name to give or not as she chooses.
"I've been captured, experimented on, and later finally convinced that was not just some little rogue faction of the government," Nautica clarifies to Blast Off, somewhat bluntly. "I don't know that /all/ of the government can't be trusted -- there are some good bots out there, too -- but I think they won't be enough. This planet is going to tear itself apart." And then she leaves it at that, going back for her second load of cargo.
"HighDef," HighDef drops like a distracted aside. Cover apparently takes a lot of her attention, but not so much that she doesn't know when she's being referred to. "Don't wear the name out."
Blast Off is relieved when Hot Rod drops it. The shuttle hasn't spoken about the experience to anyone yet, and given his way he probably won't. Ever. Nope, gonna deny it ever happened, because that's a perfectly healthy and well-adjusted way to deal with trauma! And then, speaking of trauma, Nautica shares her own. The shuttle falls silent. Sounds like they actually have a bit in common now- well, besides the whole *space* thing. << I... see. Well, perhaps. There might be. But you are correct- they will not be enough. It's getting worse, not better. I've *seen* it. >> He thinks of Pharma... then tries not to. HighDef's name is duly noted. The aloof shuttle simply replies, << Ah. You produce holograms, then? >>
Hot Rod looks like he might argue with Nautica, but it's little more than a grimace, the suggestion of a defensive prickle, and a stubborn, "Not if we can stop it." He's sure doing a great job with deescalation and peaceful resolution with his little band of misfits, isn't he.
"I meant," Nautica offers to Hot Rod as he bristles, "that the good bots in the government aren't enough to counteract the bad ones. For every Pax, there's probably... I don't know, six or seven Pharmas. That's why it'll take other bots. Why we can't rely on the handful of good ones in the government to fix things."
"All I do, mate. Holograms." HighDef raises her arms and the holographic minicons turn their choreography backwards. It's super-effective. "I'll have to step up my game if we take down the government."
Just overhead, -another- spacecraft passes. This one is a bit smaller and looks more like an interceptor type craft as opposed to a shuttle or transport like Blast Off. And speaking of Blast Off, he might recognize it. Oh, yes, it's -very- familiar, and not the good kind of familiar, either.
Blast Off listens to Hot Rod speaking. The flame-bedecked mech seems to be some sort of leader-type around here... but why? What's he got going on in that flashy head, anyway? Anything? At all? Blast Off's still uncertain. << And how do you plan to stop it? Where are these supplies going? >> Then he freezes at the mention of ... << Pharma? You met... Pharma? >>
Finally, he realizes it would be rude to leave HighDef unanswered, and the shuttle *does* have manners, after all. << ...Yes. It is... a good cover. And... ah, so you DO intend to take downt he government? >>
Then there's a blip on his radar screen, and.... OH SLAAAAG. If it's not one thing when he lands here, it's ANOTHER. The shuttle's engines hiss faintly. He broadcasts to all those onboard, << I hope that cover works VERY well, HighDef, because /Quantum/ just showed up! Get that cargo unloaded quickly!>> Slag slag slaggity slag. He's still not very well equipped in shuttle mode- there's a laser but he's not exactly a military craft right now. And he's a sitting turbo-duck on the ground. 
"Maybe. But one person can do a lot of good if they are in the right place," says Hot Rod with a certain determined optimism. "We can't /let/ the planet tear itself apart. The government's not the planet. They certainly aren't the people." 
It's unlikely that Hot Rod was going to answer Blast Off about where things were going, but now he definitely doesn't. At the announcement about Quantum, he throws his head back with a complaint-filled groan. "Of /course/ he did. You and your suitors, mech. HighDef, focus on getting out there and hiding Blast Off as much as possible. Cover so we can finish. Nautica, we'll get everything off, worry about getting it safely stashed later. Just get it inside and out of sight." Whatever this mysterious cargo is. I should really specify. 
"Right." Nautica doesn't question Hot Rod in this, instead moving to quickly get all the unloaded cargo into the shelter of the temple, and concealed beneath what looks like a pile of debris. They can always come back for it later; who else will be poking around in ruined temples? 
HighDef gets herself out of Blast Off's cargo bay and simultaneously shifts her hologram wider. She keeps her band of minicons, keeps the general /shape/ of Blast Off's shuttle-self, but alters it. A smaller shuttle, different colors, different markings. The minicons stop dancing. They're boarding now. This is just an anonymous shuttle carting anonymous minicons. No criminals here, Quantum. 
Quantum spots the dancing minicons from above, and it gives him pause. Dancing? In a place like this? Hardly seemed to fit in. Not here in the Rust Narrows, seemed more like something you'd see in Iacon. 
He descends, transforming and touching down in front of them to begin scanning the area and just get a closer look in general. 
Blast Off listens to Hot Rod. Probably true. He supposes. Though that last bit is dead on. << Indeed. >> Then that comment on Quantum and WHAT?!? << SUITORS?! >> Ok, that broke through his flat facade. << He is NOT my suitor... he wants me dead, and vice versa by this point. >> Then he has to wait as the others unload as fast as they can. And oh slag, Quantum's coming CLOSERRRR. << Hurry up... >> He whispers. 
"Oh, sorry, Blast Off. My mistake." Hot Rod grins, sharp and quick. Of course he couldn't apologize /sincerely/. He finishes with the last bit of unloading and then turns to take Nautica's from her so that she can help settle the cover of debris. "You're clear. Everyone act casual. HighDef, keep it up, doing great." Behold: a lean. He's casual. 
Nautica can't quite manage the same degree of 'casual' that Hot Rod does, so instead she stands outside the temple, taking notes on her datapad. After all, she was examining the structure /before/ Blast Off arrived; she even has quite realistic notes if she's questioned on why she's got a datapad and a temple. Still, the glance she gives Blast Off suggests that she'd dearly like to hear more -- another time -- about how /he/ encountered her Institute tormentor. 
Hot Rod and Nautica are now outside of HighDef's stream-of-minicons illusion. But the supplies have been taken care of. Why, if Quantum weren't here, we could all go home. As it is, Quantum is here. HighDef finds some ruin to duck behind as the minicon-holograms hurriedly finish boarding the disguised Blast Off. Of course, they're holograms, and not deep-scannable, but they have cleared the field almost as soon as Quantum lands. Maybe it'll work out. 
Quantum frowns when nothing comes up on the scan, which can only mean one thing--those minicons weren't real. Glancing around, he notices Hot Rod and Nautica standing around. Hm. There's a pause, then he shrugs and transforms again, returning to the air. He ascends out of sight...is he gone? 
"Now that's not the crazed determination I expected," says Hot Rod as he tips forward out of his lean to glance after Quantum. The lip of the temple's roof blocks his view past a certain point, and he remains closed to the stashed items rather than zip out and see if Quantum is really gone. "Think you're clear?" he asks Blast Off. 
Blast Off grumbles at Hot Rod, and would love to just accidentally let some floor tile *slip* under the mech or something for a moment... but then the racer actually tries to help him out, so Blast off can't complain. Too much. Even though Hot Rod's leaning on him- and he HATES touch. That does get a quiet sort of rumble once more, then he falls silent. He notes Nautica's glance, but just like her, doesn't have a lot of time to really chat right now. 
To Rod's last question, he answers, << I... think so. But where'd he go? Having him disappear almost seems too good to be true. >> The shuttle's gotten where he epxects *everything and everyone* to be trouble *forever* because that is just his lot in life. 
"Oh, he's almost certainly lurking and waiting for you to take off," Nautica answers, pointedly /not/ looking skywards. Nothing to see down here, so no reason for her to glance up overhead. Instead, she pointedly makes more notes on her datapad. "The real question is how long he'll wait." 
"I can just keep playing new colors, slimmer frame," HighDef says all quiet. "Probably not forever, though." 
Where did Quantum go, indeed? Is he still lurking up there? Circling the area like a hawk waiting for the right moment to strike? Or has he given up on it already? How long is Hot Rod willing to sit there waiting? 
"Ugh, I hate waiting." Hot Rod fidgets. The answer to the question: not long. He glances in HighDef's direction, then back at Blast Off. "Think you could help him get out of here? Would getting back be a problem for you, HighDef?" 
Blast Off siiighs at Nautica's statement. There's actually even a trace of real tiredness to the shuttle's ventilation systems. He's really had enough of people trying to kill him lately. Especially since they have almost succeeded. And she's probably right. << Yes. Perhaps I should transform, leave by foot somewhere. >> Because he *loves* slogging through rust-caked, slag-strewn streets such as these. 
Upon HighDef's comment, though, Blast Off suddenly experiences a flicker of anger. Not at her. At Quantum, and hiding, and skulking away. << Or... I could just go up there and /fight/ him. >> He doesn't have his ionic blaster right now, though, that was lost at jail- but he does HAVE a blaster. The shuttle's engines growl softly. << I am getting *really* tired of this mech. >> Upon Hot Rod's statement, he waits on the HighDef's response, only adding, << Well if I fly, I will need to *fight*. Can she withstand that *bumpy* of a ride? >> 
Nautica pauses, looking at her datapad thoughtfully. "You know," she muses, clearly thinking aloud rather than actually intending to start a conversation. "I've /met/ a bot that has cloaking technology. It should be possible to duplicate something like that. That could be useful out here, and not just for situations like this..." 
"Sheesh. You know I'm like tiny fraction of your guys's size and got no mobility whatsoever?" HighDef gets out from behind her ruin bit, brushes herself off. "If I can keep Blast Off kind of concealed, maybe he doesn't need to fight. If he's just gonna go up there and have it out, no point in me riding along. Other than the fun of it." 
"Oh, good, you needed another project." Hot Rod /might be teasing/. He regards Nautica with an amused sort of resignation -- like, of course she'd get another project, of COURSE SHE WOULD. "You could make a break for it and fly -- or I can show you some tunnels that'll take you out of town. Up to you." 
Nautica's inadvertent musing catches Blast Off's attention. << Cloaking? >> Well, he knows she can come up with some amazing (read: scary if you're on her s*** list) inventions. << Something like that would certainly make these transports a lot less... interesting. And I mean that in a good way. >> Blast Off considers HighDef's comment. He REALLY wants to fight it out... but once again, it's not the time. He needs his weapons- all of them. He WILL have that showdown, however. << Very well... perhaps simply cloaking, or... holograms, something... and we can fly out of here? Or walk, or... something. >> 
Hot Rod's offer actually freezes his circuits to the core. Tunnels. Like the one he was trapped in. Underground. Like that cramped, cold prison cell. His reaction is immediate, tinged with tense nervousness. << /No tunnels/! >> He didn't like underground much before. Now he's seriously claustrophobic even *thinking* about it. 
"Oh, it's theoretically possible," Nautica assures Blast Off. "It even ties into quantum theory; you simply have to let the light pass /through/ the object, as if... well, never mind." She pauses to consider this for a moment, and then adds, "I mean, I'd need at /least/ a few weeks to work through the theories, before I'd be able to start any work on a prototype. And it would probably take longer than that before it was /functional/; it'd be rather more complicated than something as simple as a wavespeech module or a quantum stasis field." 
HighDef throws up her hands. "Make your choice. Flying or walking. I'll cover you. Since Naut here can't do a fifteen-minute cloak job." 
What's Quantum doing? Well, he's up near the stratosphere, hacking one of the sky spy probes and using -it- to run wide-spectrum scans to find out just who was under those holograms. He is enraged to find out that it's Blast Off, who is supposed to be DEAD. 
"Quantums," Hot Rod mutters to HighDef in a knowing aside. Nautica and /quantums/. Wait, what about Quantum? He glances up again, but seeing nothing just gives Blast Off a startled look for the vehemence of his response. "Okay, no tunnels. Like HighDef says, better get moving one way or the other. We're good here." 
Blast Off grumbles slightly at HighDef, then makes a decision. << Alright. Flying. I'll keep low enough to try and blend in with the city, and hopefully I can drop you off somewhere on a city outskirt somewhere? Provided our "friend" cooperates, that is. >> He'll murderize Quantum sometime later. To Hot Rod, he'd nod... if he were in root mode. << No... no.. tunnels. Very well. Stay alert, however, I believe he's after me, not you. >> Lucky him. The shuttle keeps his cargo bay door open for HighDef, and starts up his engines once more. 
Nautica backs away to let Blast Off take off, moving towards the debris pile that shields the supplies. 
"Here's to hopefully not getting murdered. Left in a pile of ash," HighDef does her mumbling and trots tinily into the shuttle bay. She'll keep up her holographic disguise for Blast Off, at least. 
Hot Rod follows along behind as HighDef and Blast Off make their way to the edge of Nyon. If Quantum is stalking, there's yet no sign. Picking up HighDef -- not a little pile of ash! -- he says, "Good luck not getting arrested!" as farewell to Blast Off. It's real respectful of his trauma. Then it's back to go pick up the supplies he dropped off, saying, "Let's go make sure Nautica didn't quantumize anything." Because that's a thing.