Poker Face

'...So they jus' got the impression that they could hit me with anything an' I wouldn't mind!' the young country 'bot exclaimed. 'I know I should be used to it by now, but...to be honest...every time they do that I wanna throw stuff at them an' see how they feel 'bout it!'

He laughed warmly.

Brawn had made it back to Athenia after being delayed at the Space Bridge for a few hours. He'd arrived early this morning and so far had no inspiration as to how to convince Springer to come back to Athenia. Albeit, a part of him knew that if he complained to the authorities, they'd send a whole regiment out to fetch Springer. But nobody really wanted to do that. One of the reasons why was because everyone liked and respected Springer too much. A better reason was that everyone had the common sense to not deal with Springer when he was in a bad mood.

To cheer himself up, Brawn had trekked out to his favourite bar on Athenia. It was a place he been a regular at since the war, and in all that time, it hadn't changed one bit while the world outside had been altered and corrupted by berocracy. The tables and chairs were still worn down. The oldest brands of oil still sat behind the counter, accompanied by an unnecessary amount of mirrors that expanded the room's netherworld. The lighting still had a dismal effect on the décor, making it seem darker rather than lighter. This was the only part of Athenia that didn't share a single characteristic with the new world formulating outside, the one where Autotroopers patrolled the streets and science crews ran wild. The city he'd known as Athenia had died the moment they erected the Space Bridge and told the citizens that it was time to come out of their rooms.

That's where this fellow came in. This cheerful, bright orange 'bot sitting next to Brawn at the bar, apparently fresh from a Moonbase. Brawn was inclined to hate him, but he was so slagging nice, he was finding it difficult to do that. When he'd marched into the bar, there the kid was relaxing in Brawn'susual spot. Brawn had threatened to pulverize the stranger. The stranger had laughed it off and bought him a drink. Went from there.

His name was "The Indestructible" Ironhide. Ironhide had briefly demonstrated how he'd earned this alias by transforming his outer shell into a nearly-indestructible alloy. But to Brawn, Ironhide was "Resourceful," especially when he imagined pitting him against Springer. Springer was still a bit larger than Ironhide, but Brawn figured a combined effort of both of them would bring the guy down.

'You know what I'd do?' asked Brawn.

'...What?' inquired Ironhide.

'I'd throw 'em over the edge of this slaggin' asteroid.'

'Is that yer answer to everything?'

'Yup. How'd you guess?'

'Oh,' Ironhide shrugged sheepishly. 'So you're under Hot Rod, too?'

'Hot Rod? I thought his name was Rodimus or somethin' like that.'

'Well, his real name's Rodimus Minor, but I knew him when he was Hot Rod. So I just call'm Hot Rod.'

'You were classmates?'

'Yeah. We weren't really friends, but it's nice to have a familiar face 'round these parts. Hot Rod's not happy 'bout it. He wanted Iacon City.'

'Fresh from the Academy and he expected to get Iacon City?' Brawn narrowed his optics.

'Well, yeah. He was the favourite an' all. Didn't help him much.'

'No kidding,' Brawn murmured. He didn't like the sound of this Rodimus Minor already. 'You know who else is on this team?'

'Some femme called Red Alert. Medic. She's supposed to be famous or somethin', but I don't know the name. Don't know who the other one is.'

'His name's Springer.'

'Springer. That name sounds familiar...'

'Should be. He's the leader of the Wreckers...Or what's left of the Wreckers. Nowadays they're just known as "trouble." That punk landed me in this bar in the first place.'

'I thought all the Wreckers were killed during the Great War.'

'Most of them were. A few members weren't on the Xantium when it was destroyed. Like Springer. Doesn't value his life at all. The Wreckers tend to live fast and die hard. New guys don't last long, not to mention they were very selective about who got in in the first place. I used to work with them a bit. I knew Impactor. Springer took his offlining hard; I don't think he ever really recovered from the loss of all the Wreckers who'd mentored him.'

'Sorry to hear that.'

'Yeah, a lot of 'bots are. Anyways, Springer's caused a lot of Autobot-Decepticon tension, which we don't really need, do we? So the government made'm "volunteer" for this security detail, just to get him away from the other Wreckers. And you know what happened when he didn't show his sorry face? They sent me to go fetch him! Springer doesn't listen to anyone. Now they're gonna weigh on me 'cause I couldn't convince Springer to get back to Athenia and Springer's decided he ain't gonna accept the assignment. That leaves this detail two 'bots short!'

'Why doesn't he want to come to Athenia?'

'He's just being all dramatic! Ever since the Wreckers officially disbanded, Springer's been tryin' to keep it alive. He keeps sayin' that they have to cause as much trouble for the 'cons as possible, but that only causes trouble for Autobots like you an' me! For a guy who fought alongside Impactor Major, he isn't very smart.'

He paused.

'But, I gotta admit,' Brawn said quietly, 'he has the right idea.'

'What'dya mean?'

'Look, Cybertron Command's always sayin' that the 'cons aren't a threat anymore, but we all know that ain't true. They're just waitin' for their numbers to increase so they can invade us. And guess which colony's gonna be overtaken in a nanoklik? Athenia. Trust me, the guys at Cybertron Command won't do anything to help us out. If I wasn't tied up at the moment, I'd be out there drivin' the 'cons insane!'

'But you're tied up.'

Brawn huffed.

'Does Springer live around here?' Ironhide thankfully changed the subject.

'Lately? No. He has quarters, but he doesn't hang out there much. It'll be a miracle if they can make Springer hang out around a Space Bridge all day. Hey. HEY!' Brawn waved down the bartender. He indicated the oil. 'Another. Gotta I get all I can get. Stupid Space Bridge. Stupid Cybertron Command. And most of all...stupid Springer! Wish I was back in the mines. At least I could break things an' not get arrested for it.'

'You worked in the mines?'

'Sure. Before the cave-ins. They did an inspection after they decided to build the Space Bridge. Ninety-seven percent of the mines were deemed to be unsafe. So ninety-seven percent of the miners were laid off. Myself included. We were kicked out and told to get new jobs. But it's hard to picture yourself doin' anything else other than what you've been doin' since the day you were protoformed.'

'The cave-ins didn't scare ya?'

'Nope,' he said. He examined the surface of the oil, checking for any bolts or any other unpleasant surprises. Tentatively, he took a sip. 'The oil around here is more dangerous than the mines.'

Ironhide glanced at his oil and pushed it away.

They sat in silence, drinking oil while the bar remained its bleak, miserable self. This was the last remains of old Athenia, about to be revamped and transformed into some militaristic paradise for the Elite Guard. Of course, Ironhide wouldn't know that. Their culture – everything that made them Athenia Autobots – was going to be buried and forgotten. Brawn hated it. He would do anything he could to defy them. But at the same time he had to go along with it. It nagged at his conscious and the instinct to go along with Springer's idea of becoming somewhat of an outlaw. It would be better than this slag heap.

'What was your name again?' Ironhide asked.

'Brawn.'

Ironhide held out a servo. Brawn glared, but shook it.

'Nice to make your acquaintance,' said Brawn. 'I can't say Springer'll shake your hand, though. So brace yourself.'

Ironhide grinned. When he thought Brawn wasn't looking in his direction, he cringed and shook out the servo that Brawn had crushed.