Friends in Low Places

++ Nyon ++

Nyon was the capital of Cybertron during the Golden Age, the rule of Nova

Prime, when energon was plentiful and the planet's population was at peace.

Now, with nearby Iacon the capital of the planet, Nyon has become a ghetto,

and a shell of its former self.

Temples, libraries, energon refineries and places of culture have been all

but abandoned, left to corrode and rot away as their patrons moved to the

newer, better capital city to the east. Left behind were the low caste and

disposable laborers, who commute to Iacon to maintain and keep it, while

being denied the privilege of its living quarters. Poverty and crime are

rife here, with only minimal police presence to keep it at bay, making it a

fertile breeding ground for rebellion and dissent.

Some people are so careless. Panacea wonders what folks would do if there were no medics around. At the moment she's walking through the streets, a dirty rag slung over her shoulder that she had forgotten about. Her expression is mildly amused and every so often she just shakes her head.

As she passes by a small yet crowded bar, she might spot someone familiar walking out of it. Someone blue, and very stylish. Yes, it's Blurr, the famous racer. The one who also refused repairs from her. And he is -still- injured. This time though, he appears to be in a much friendlier mode--er, -mood-. He flashes her a friendly grin. "Hey Pan," he greets.

Panacea stops in her tracks. Once she recognizes Blurr, her optics instinctively go back to where she had seen him wounded before. Yup, the wounds are still there. She shakes her head. "Hello Blurr," she says. "You really shouldn't wander around like that," she points out. "Not good for your continued health."

"Like what?" Blurr asks, appearing puzzled. He seems to be completely oblivious to it. Either that or he is purposefully ignoring it.

Panacea attempts to poke a finger at it, applying just enough pressure so that it can be felt without being unduly painful. "Like that," she reiterates as she makes the jabbing motion.

 Blurr looks down at the cut, jerking away from her hand reflexively. "Oh, heh." He laughs nervously. "-That-. Don't worry about it, I've had worse. I mean I almost -died- the other cycle!" he exclaims. "So," he starts to change the subject. "How've you been lately? Up to anything interesting? Save anyone from certain death recently? You ever find that Whirl guy you were looking for?"

Panacea shakes her head. "I haven't seen him since," she says. "They say no news is good news, but I don't think that's the case this time around." She sighs. "A medic's work is never done, you know." She gives Blurr a long, hard look. "So, how did you almost die anyhow?" she asks, putting her hands on her hips.

"Nope, if it were it wouldn't be a very good job, now would it?" Blurr laughs. "Well, I was attacked." he answers with a shrug, but doesn't divulge any further details. "It's a rough world out there. So you from around here or what?" he asks. It seems he likes to change the topic of conversation rather rapidly sometimes.

Panacea doesn't mind the changes in topic. After all, she hadn't sought him out for anything in particular; they just kinda ran into each other. "Well, I suppose so. If people want to keep getting into fights at least I know my job's secure." She gives a little laugh at this. "No, I'm not from around here. I lived in a little mining community for most of my life, but it recently shut down. So I relocated." A flicker of sadness appears on her face.

"Oh, yeah." Blurr nods knowingly. "They've been automating a lot of that stuff, because it's more cost-effective. So you still looking for work, then?" he asks, looking concerned. "I know it can be hard."

"Well, I've relocated in Kaon now," she says. "Seems a lot of medics are getting work at the Forge, but the regular miners still need a medic, as well as anyone else who is kicking around that isn't into the games." She frowns a bit as she speaks of the arena; apparently she isn't a fan. "It's such a big community I doubt the mines there will shut down any time soon.>"

"You getting paid all right?" Blurr asks, still sounding concerned. "The arenas are a pretty rough crowd, a lot of those types aren't ones you'd want to mess with, even if they got pushy." he notices that she doesn't approve the Forge, which he definitely doesn't either. "It's a disgusting sport, really. Watching people kill each other just for amusement. I know they say it's the only way for them to get by, but I doubt that's actually true. They're just too proud to look for anything -else-."

"I don't need much to get by," Panacea says. "I'm not really a fancy living person, you know?" She makes a sour face. "Yeah, all I see is people giving me more work for no good reason. When I worked for the miners they were in accidents and stuff. Mining is dangerous work, but it does good for a lot of people. They get us a lot of the energy and raw materials we need to keep going, right?" She shakes her head. "I mean, it's one thing to spar to keep sharp, though I wish even that wasn't necessary, but this Forge stuff is way beyond that."

Blurr sighs. "I know, right? It's hardly rewarding work. So do you fix people there often?" he shakes his head. "But Sentinel Prime says he's going to bring that to an end, soon. As long as we have enough intel, I think we can make it a smooth operation; no casualties on either side."

"No casualties would be good," is Panacea's opinion on the matter. "I mean, if people are mad at them for killing each other, and the law goes in guns blazing and kills a lot of them, then it kind of defeats the purpose, don't you think?"

"Oh I definitely agree." Blurr says, nodding. "That's why we need intel, so that we can make a -clean- operation that involves as few casualties as possible." Then he lowers his voice, leaning in a little closer. "So if you're ever there working those repairs, and you hear or see something notable, you're going to tell me right? I'll even pay you for it."

"Maybe," hedges Panacea. "It goes against my code of ethics to relay any information about the patients that is entrusted to me as a medic," she points out. "But if I overhear something...that's not the same thing is it?" She purses her lips together as she considers this.

Blurr shakes his head. "You don't have to tell me anything specific about the patients' condition, that's not really relevant. It's more of the structure of the Forge, who's guarding it, what kind of security systems they have...if there are any backdoors we don't know about yet. You see, the longer we can go undetected, the less of a fight we have to put up and the fewer the casualties."

"That's even assuming anyone even asks me to go there," Panacea says. "After all, they don't have any particular reason to trust me." She sighs. "Still, I can keep my audials open for whatever that's worth." Not the most patriotic response, but she's not turning her nose up at the idea either.

"Good." Blurr nods. "And I'll definitely pay you for your trouble. I'm sure if you did good work, they'd probably invite you. I mean, with the amount of violence going on in there I'm sure they're short-handed -all- the time. Just remember, the more intel you can find, the fewer people die."

"Just don't go running into anything before you're in top shape. You might say that cut is nothing, but it's no good jumping into a fight when you're not at your best," Panacea says. "The only thing I hate more than always having people to fix is finding out that someone is past being fixed." It's what most medics dread. The decent ones, at any rate.

Blurr looks slightly amused at this. "Yeah? Why do you care so much? You barely know me." he comments, watching her curiously.

"Because it's a shame to let a handsome mech go to waste," Panacea says with a little wink. Then her face grows serious. "My job is to keep people alive. Where there's life, there's a challenge." She sighs. "Death takes that away." She rubs the back of her neck. "A few people seem to thinks it's a relief, but I'm still a bit too young for that."

Blurr smirks at the compliment. Yes, he -is- definitely handsome. "Thanks. You know you're not so bad yourself." He chuckles, returning the compliment. He sobers up a bit as well when she seems to become more serious. "Yeah, I guess huh? Well you know if you ever want a change in scenery, I could get you something at the IAA. Always upkeep to do on racers, and there are accidents on the tracks all the time but usually nothing too serious. You wouldn't have to deal with 'past being fixed' as much."

"Well, there is that," Panacea muses. "But for now I'll stick with the miners. You know, just because Megatron was a miner doesn't mean they're all like that," she points out. "The ones back home, well, we always looked out for each other, you know? I'm not big or imposing, but they wouldn't let anyone mess with me." She speaks of them fondly, like she would of older brothers. "They've all been scattered now." Again there's that flicker of sadness.

"Yeah? Well maybe I could help you try to track them down." Blurr offers, smiling. "After all I can go pretty much anywhere, any time." And he can get there pretty quickly. "If they're still around."

"It was done pretty quietly. They were all rounded up one night and reassigned," Panacea says with a sigh. "There were some troubles, and a lot of them got into fights. It got out of hand and a few good lives were lost. I guess it made me rather impatient with the whole fighting thing." She shakes her head a few times. "What they were doing wasn't right exactly, but the whole thing could have been handled a lot better."

"Yeah, well maybe some of them are still out there." Blurr encourages. "Don't lose hope." He pats her on the back. "What were their names? I might be able to find them."

The medic femme considers for a few moments. She knows who her 'favorites' were, and recalls them easily, but she wouldn't feel right just asking about those. After a while she gives Blurr a list of names. "I think that's all of them. The ones that weren't dead last time I saw them." The last statement even sounds a bit bitter.

Blurr takes the list and nods. "Well I'll see what I can do." he says, subspacing the information. "Hey," he says softly, patting her shoulder. "We've all been through rough times. All we can really do is try our best to make the -future- a better place, right?"

"Yeah," Panacea says. "Though I feel kind of guilty that I hadn't looked at all. I just didn't know where to start, and maybe, I was just afraid to find out they were already all dead." She closes her eyes for a moment. "It was too dangerous out there to get lost with moping, so I just went right ahead and looked for a new niche to fill."

"Yeah, not knowing where to start could be daunting. But I can help you with that." Blurr grins. "I mean I'm sure you'd want to know, if some of them were actually still around somewhere. And maybe you'll get to see them again."

"Definitely," Panacea says with a bit more force behind her voice than she usually uses. "Especially since, the way things are going these cycles, the chances probably are getting slimmer as time goes on."

"Exactly, so if you wanted a chance to see them, you'd be more likely to get it sooner than later." Blurr nods, then sighs a little. "Hopefully all these dissenters will eventually get over themselves and realize that all their rioting and violence isn't solving anything; it's just making things worse. They can't fix problems with the same methods that were used to create them."

"Well, I get /why/ they're mad. And they have a right to be mad. I just don't think they're solving it in the best way. Violence just makes more violence and then all you have left is a mess for the medics to clean up." Panacea stamps her foot impatiently. "It's just so frustrating."

"Oh, I know, right?" Blurr nods quickly, agreeing with her. "I know this world hasn't exactly been fair to everyone, I mean slag it hasn't been fair to me either, but they need to get it through their heads that they can't solve the problems they're mad about using the same methods that created them, in fact it just keeps the vicious cycle going. We just have to find a way to make them -see- that, hopefully without killing too many of them..." He adds with a sigh.

"Not killing any of them would be ideal; you can't change a dead mech. But things never really work out to the ideal, do they?" Panacea makes a bit of a face. This is probably why so many people out there have faceplates. But she doesn't seem to feel a need to hide what she's thinking or feeling. "It's not easy to reconcile how the world /should/ be with how it really is."

Blurr sighs. "Yeah, it'd be ideal. Which is why we're trying to collect as much intel as possible. The more we know, the easier it'll be for us to make it a clean operation with as few casualties as possible on either side."

Panacea smiles faintly at this. "Now I think we're just talking in circles." She rubs her forehead briefly. "I think I'd better head back. And you," she jabs a finger in the air at the racer, "you should go get that looked at. Medic's orders." And she grins.

"Yeah, I will." Blurr laughs. "I can't let just -anyone- fix me. I guess because they don't trust anyone else. I mean, it's not because I'm doubting your abilities. It's just that I'm not like your typical mech, you know?" Who exactly he means by 'they' isn't immediately clear. "Oh, well...it was nice talking to you."

Panacea makes a face. "If it's a superficial patch up, then it shouldn't matter," she says. "Sounds like whoever 'they' are they're pretty paranoid," she points out. "Anyhow, take care. After all, you can't help me find my friends if you get all scrapped up."

"I'll be fine. Don't worry." Blurr insists. Yeah, 'they' -are- pretty paranoid. And perhaps they have a good reason to be, as well. "See you around." He says cheerfully, and whisks himself off in a blur of motion.