Blurr was troubled.
The blue mech stood before a window, glaring down at the pitiful dwellings that housed what few humans that still dared to inhabit the city. "Fools…" he sneered. "They still think they can forge a life here, when their homes are destroyed every day by the unending battles." He shook his head.
Blurr, along with his Second in Command, Mirage, were considered to be princes among thieves back on Cybertron, but they had learned of Earth being a new hub of activity for their race, so they had set up a guild on this desolate planet in an attempt to intercept deliveries and priceless Cybertronian artifacts sent through here in an attempt to safeguard them from burglars by taking them off the beaten track.
HA.
Blurr's mind was as quick and as sharp as they came, and that's why he was leader of The Cybetronian Thieves' Guild…or at least the Earth Division. His partner, Mirage, was back on Cybertron, keeping the Guild's other division in line during his absence. The two had been inseparable since they first met. They had clawed their way up the street ranks from petty crooks to nothing short of criminal masterminds. However, their greatest asset was their connection to the Autobots, an elite criminal syndicate who'd taken over Cybertron. Blurr and Mirage worked as recruiters for their cause, and as long as the pair kept sending fresh recruits, the Autobots would grant the thieves immunity from the law.
It was a sweet deal indeed.
"Ah, there you are, Blurr." A voice shattered the mech's thoughts, and, judging by the voice, he guessed it was that annoyance, Jazz. "I was wondering where you'd run off to."
"What do you want, Jazz?" Blurr asked without turning around.
"Oh, it's not what I want," Jazz replied. "It's Ultra Magnus. He says there's a possibility that the wormhole's going to open up again, and he wants some of your guys there in case it decided to dump something in this universe again, like last time."
"Ah, yes, I figured as much…" Blurr said, turning around. "But you both know my services don't come cheap."
"Yes, we know you too well, Blurr…Jazz said, grinning. "That's why we took the liberty of wiring the agreed twenty million credits to your account already."
"Well, that's mighty generous of you lot. Now, where are my members to assemble?"
"We've already sent the co-ordinates to you via the network, in case there are any Decepticon spies about. One can never be too careful these days."
"Yes, true…" Blurr strode up to the mech. "Now then, why are YOU here?"
"Didn't I just tell you?" Jazz replied coldly.
"Let me guess, you're here to ogle Prowl again, am I right?" Blurr growled accusingly.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Jazz said in a sarcastic tone.
"Jazz, Jazz, Jazz…" Blurr chided. "I'm not normally one who dabbles in the slave trade, but I can tell you, if I did, you'd never be able to afford him. The mech's one of my most efficient assassins, do you honestly think I'll just hand him over like some cheap turbo-hound? Now, unless you've got some other business here, I suggest you leave."
"Well, actually, now that you mention the slave trade, we did catch a Decepticon spy amongst your ranks and we're allowing you to deal with him."
"It's my Primus-given right as Leader of this Guild to deal with him anyway." Blurr snorted. "Where is the little traitor?"
"Send him in!" Jazz yelled over his shoulder. Turning back to Blurr, he said, "You're gonna hate me for this."
"More than I already do?"
"Touché."
Two mechs had a much smaller mech restrained between them. The spy's wrists had been cuffed together, and he struggled as he was dragged before the Autobots.
Blurr's optics narrowed. "Bumblebee. I should have known."
A/N Aaaand, that's all you're getting until I decide to write some more of this fic. I hope you lot like it!