Altihex was a tiny town; far from the bustling metropolis of Iacon and its multitude of tall spires and towers. It lay nestled in a wide valley, surrounded by high, rugged peaks that reached up to the sky with grasping talons. To the south lay the Energon mine that kept the town running, just productive enough with the work of a dedicated populace. To the north was the Forest, through which the Old Road ran. Not many used it these days; while it was technically a shorter route to Polyhex, the road itself was rutted and overgrown with creeping organic vegetation. It was much easier to use the West Road and loop around to the nearest Bridge.
The town itself was fairly unremarkable as such places were. The streets were lined with small, neat domes, each housing no more than a few bots each. There were shops and businesses and the Energon mine, of course, but none of these were much of a draw for tourists or travelers. Nothing interesting ever happened in Altihex. (Well, unless you count Starscream's twice-daily rants on how he would be a much better Hunter than Megatron, but after the first few renditions, you'd heard it all anyways. Quite literally; Starscream wasn't much for variation. And they generally ended the same way, too, in the shape of Megatron's fist hitting Starscream's helm. Megatron apparently shared his love of repetition.)
However, despite the mundanity, Bumblebee loved his little town. He loved the wide boulevards of the North Quarter where the oldsters would sit and talk about vorns gone by. (He liked sitting nearby to listen on occasion, because Kup had a lot of interesting stories and if even half of them were true he'd lived a very interesting life. Although, even Bumblebee wasn't certain he could give credence to an army of a thousand bots storming through their quiet valley, only to be held off by a small ragtag team of bots lead by a flashy red mech with mystical powers.) He loved the narrow streets of the East Quarter through which some of his wilder neighbors would race under the twin lights of the moons until the town's lone Enforcer chased them off. (He wanted to join them, just once; as much for the thrill of the escape as for the thrill of the race. Arcee always said that it was good to be a little bad once in awhile – it let people appreciate you all the more. Bumblebee wasn't certain of the logic in that, but he definitely appreciated Arcee. It was kind of hard not to.) He loved the quiet hum of the West Quarter, full of homes and the lone educational center where younglings raced and played and tried their very hardest to squash as much fun as possible in to their quarter-joor break before trudging back to classes. (It wasn't so long ago that he was one of those younglings, with Cliffjumper in overprotective mode facing down bullies twice his size at the least infraction. Most of their classmates soon learned that it was best to treat Bumblebee with respect, at least when his crazy big brother was within radius. The remaining few tended to end up with dented plating what seemed like once every other solar cycle. Bumblebee loved his brother dearly, but he had to admit he was something of a hothead.)
But what he loved perhaps the most of all was the South Quarter, with its thriving market full of colorful stalls and equally colorful bots hawking their wares. There was always a little taste of Outside here: in the sheen of a bright pendant, of which the likes were lately gracing the plating of the Towers mechs (or so the vendor said) or the tangled mess of wires of the latest upgrade that was sure to make your systems run just a bit faster, a bit sharper. But more than the trinkets and gadgets, Bumblebee loved the people – the expressions that flitted across their faceplates as they haggled cheerfully (and sometimes not) to get the best possible deal on their goods. The market was where his friends and neighbors seemed to come alive more than anywhere else.
There was Wheeljack, cheerfully rolling in his latest invention, paying no mind to the heckling of Rumble and Frenzy who wanted to know how this one would blow up. And over there was Blaster, drawing a small crowd of friends as he put on an impromptu dance display in front of an amused vendor selling music-chips. Megatron stood some distance from the weapons merchant, somehow looking studiously bored and keeping an optic on the stall at the same time. Skywarp and Thundercracker, as ever, were not far away, Thundercracker calm and quiet and Skywarp visibly vibrating on his perch, craning his helm towards Megatron every few klicks before Thundercracker yanked him back.
And Cliffjumper was, as always on First Market Orn, parked in front of the weapons merchant, simultaneously eyeing the new shipment with greedy optics and shoving for elbow room with Starscream. The vendor dealt with them both with weary patience, making sure that neither shoved too far towards his precious goods.
It was just another day in Altihex, with nothing particular out of the ordinary. Bumblebee lifted his faceplate to the warm spring sunshine and smiled. Today will be a good day.