I don't own Ember; she appears in this chapter mostly so I wouldn't have to make up another OC for the bar scene and partly because I have plans for her to show up more later. She belongs to TacticianZephine, who was nice enough to let me borrow her.

Chapter 7

Minerva's, Axiom Nexus

Road Rage looked Riella up and down appraisingly. "Someone looks like slag. Bad night?"

"I wish that described it," Riella muttered, grabbing a clean energon cube for the mech who had just walked in.

"Ready to try some of those control tactics now?"

Riella turned to glare at the other femme from behind the red visor. Do you mind? Not out loud, please!

"Relax. No one cares what the bar girls talk about." Road Rage eyed one of the new arrivals. "Hey, let me take that one his drink, 'k?"

The orange femme frowned as she handed another young mech a glass. "Why?"

"Remember Lockdown?" The former Intel agent lowered her voice. "That would be his partner, Oil Slick."

Riella's optics narrowed. "Same deal?"

"Yeah. Bounty hunting." Road Rage sighed. "If LD's bad, this one's worse. Kind of the mad-scientist type, you know? Except 'Con to the core."

"Bad," Riella agreed. "Okay. You already know what he wants?"

Road Rage nodded. "I'll take it to him, then I gotta watch the door. You stick around up here."

Riella mock-saluted and watched the other femme leave. When, exactly, did we become friends?

"Excuse me…"

"Oh, sorry." Riella shook away her thoughts and turned to the black femme on the other side of the counter. "Can I help you?"

"Yes. Just a regular high-grade, please."

Handing her the requested drink, Riella forced a polite smile. "Here you go. I'm sorry about that, I'm new here."

"Not a problem." The black femme rested one elbow on the counter. "My name is Ember."

"Firelight." Riella shook her hand briefly. "You're a…friend of Road Rage, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am."

Riella could sense that the other femme was reasonably friendly, even if she had the usual level of paranoia that came with Intel agents. And seeing that she had been kicked out of Intel, it probably wasn't unwarranted. "Nice to meet you."

"Hey! You!"

The orange femme groaned and resisted the urge to hit her head on the counter. "Lockdown. Why did it have to be him?"

Ember' purple optics narrowed curiously. "Has he been giving you trouble?"

"You could say that." Riella put on her sweetest smile as the green bounty hunter shoved his way to the bar. "Can I help you with anything, sir? Better business tactics, perhaps?"

Lockdown planted his real hand on the bar and glared down at her. "Look, kid, you screwed up one of my best deals. I'm not a mech who likes losing his credits."

"Does that sign up there say I care?" Riella pointed to the price sign behind her. "Because I don't."

The bounty hunter leaned forward, deliberately getting in her space. "You might wanna care, cutie. Know why?"

"I don't, and I still don't care." Riella turned back to Ember. "I apologize for this, really."

"Don't you ignore me!" Lockdown's hook hand smashed down barely a millimeter from Riella's fingers. She flinched unintentionally. "You know, I know an awful lot about you," the bounty hunter hissed. "I know that you don't come from around here, and you know what? I can find out where you come from…and why you're hiding. That's what I do."

"Hey, hey, hey." Minerva turned away from the other end of the bar. "Ya don't hassle mah workers, ya hear me, mech? Chill out, or get out."

Lockdown shot one final glare at Riella before leaving the bar. The femme sighed. "So much for a nice evening. I'm sorry about that, Ember."

"It was not your fault." Ember finished her drink with a nod. "He can be a mean one. So, where are you from?"

"Uhh…" Riella tensed. "Cybertron?"

Spaceport 1, Junkion

Prowl elbowed his way through the crowd, trying to stay close enough to Jazz and Blackarachnia to talk to them. "That's the fifth shop, and still nothing. Suggestions?"

"I vote we head back," Jazz yelled over the noise. "She might've never come this far into the city. 'Specially if she was in a rush."

Blackarachnia frowned irritably. "Whee. It's even louder back there."

Prowl didn't bother answering, beyond a rude gesture. The femme snickered and followed him toward the small shop on the corner of the spaceport.

Shiftswitch stepped out of the back with a smile, wiping his hands on an old rag. "Welcome, welcome. How can I help you lot today?"

"We're looking for somebot," Jazz told him, after a long moment of silence from the other two. "Femme, about so tall, aqua-blue paint job, big blue optics…"

"Hmm." The Junkion studied them for a long moment. "I might know what you mean, then again, I might not. Depends on who's asking…and if they're willing to support the information business."

Blackarachnia glided forward, red optics glowing dangerously. "I'm gonna ask nicely. Once." She bared her small fangs in a smile and clicked the poisonous spines above her shoulders. "Where is she?"

Shiftswitch blinked nervously. "Ah, well, now. No call for that. A femme matching that description stopped here about…oh, three, four solar cycles ago. Cute little thing. Seventh-ed grounder?"

"Yeah, that's her…right?" Jazz looked to Prowl for confirmation. The darker mech frowned and nodded.

Blackarachnia smiled sweetly. "See? That wasn't too hard. Did she say where she was going?"

"Away," Shiftswitch shrugged. "I didn't ask. I'm a salesman. I don't deal in that stuff…unless it's big."

Prowl rolled his optics. "Fine. Since you're a salesman, what did you sell to her?"

The Junkion's smile returned. "Well, see, there's a certain confidentiality as far as the sales relationship goes…" He caught sight of Blackarachnia's optics narrowing and her shoulder spines tensing. "She wanted a hoverbike upgrade, a few small mods, and a color chip. Before you ask, I don't remember the color."

"You're sure that's all you remember?" Blackarachnia purred, inching closer.

"Ah…no. A visor. She had a red visor. I remember that one, 'cause she wanted to cover up those pretty optics."

The femme nodded with a satisfied smirk. "Red visor, hoverbike upgrade…I'd say we've got a profile for our girl, you think?"

"Let's go." Prowl was out of the shop before he finished his sentence.

Jazz tossed a few credits in Shiftswitch's direction as Blackarachnia left. "Thanks, mech. Owe you one."

Shiftswitch shook his head. "If you were gonna pay me, why bring the techno?"

"You know." Jazz chuckled. "Insurance. Never know who might try to pull something on us."

The Junkion sighed and returned to his workroom as Jazz exited. "That's the spaceport for you…one day's quiet, next day there's someone wanting everything you know."