Story Co-written withUltra Rodimus Prime and Omicron the IceQueen

Into the Lower Levels

Chapter 7:

Chatting in the Shower

The doors swished open and a mech that seemed almost too big to be real came stomping in- he had far too much mass to bother being quiet not to mention being tired. Mostly all dark green at first glance, the mech's paint job was far worse for wear once you took a second look. In fact all of the four mechs that came in and all but attached themselves to a nozzle looked more like they came off of a prolonged battle field. These were the construction mechs, the level workers that cared for Cybertron as a planet.

"Do you need aid Bulkhead?" Perceptor called to the first and largest of the mechs.

"Nah, I'm good." The big mech said thumping the wall to trigger three nozzles to turn on over him. "I'll just recharge here..."

"I doubt the washracks are meant for recharging in, though." Drift tilted his head to the side.

"He won't mate, never has," One of the other mechs, more bare silver metal than painted said from where he was picking shavings out of his left wrist joint. The mech paused after a moment to turn back and frown at Drift. "Oy! Who are you with our PM?"

"Name's Drift," the white mech replied, turning fully to face the newcomers. "I'm a swordsmech. I found Percy being harassed by opportunistic slavers on her way upstairs, and once they were dealt with I escorted her to her destination, then back here."

Four sets of green optics eyed him, even Bulkhead had stood back up, then glanced at Perceptor, waiting. There was a near visible protective streak in them, ready and willing to leap into the defense of a weaker Crew member just on her say so.

However the femmie was nodding, "Yes, Drift is also a new recruit pending the Foreman's approval."

"Oh, so he's a rookie?"

"Nah yae' slagger she said recruit," Another blue and green mech reached over to smack the second speaker, "Pay attention! He hasn't met up with old 'Buster yet. Good on yae too lass," he grinned, having noticed the paint still on Drift.

"I am going to get pounced on as soon as one pup in particular spots me," the white mech predicted. "Apparently one adopted me while I was helping Percy load them topside."

"Well, if you've got the approval of the PM and a wolf pup," The green and blue mech said, clapping Drift on the shoulder on the way back over to the brushes, "Can't be all that bad."

"I would care to remind you all," Perceptor cut in over the background talk of a conversation in a sub-dialect of the other two Wreckers, "That I both out rank you and can out shoot you." She stood up right beside Drift and glared, "Behave, or I shall be forced to shoot you in afts." She added in all seriousness.

"Aye ma'am!" The two guilty mechs snapped off salutes while Bulkhead chuckled.

Drift chuckled. "Way to lay down the law, Percy." Dark fingers trailed lightly down the center of her back.

She stood perfectly rigid to keep from shivering. "I am a platform manager, thus a Second." Perceptor really did try not to wibble in front of the other Wreckers, but it was very hard not too with the pale mech's fingers doing interesting things. The white swordsmech's fingers traced her spine again, then he picked up the forgotten brush, teasing at one of the red streaks on his frame, humming to himself. Pale blue optics gleamed at her.

"You are horrid." Perceptor said.

"Ya' liiiike him," Bulkhead teased, picking it up as he did know the red femmie as a friend.

"Of course I do, hush you." Perceptor added as she moved to help Drift.

"And I like her." There was a purr in Drift's voice as he leaned into Perceptor's touch. There was a surprisingly good mimic of a cyber wolf's shot call, the equivalent of a Wrecker giving a cat-call at that. Drift puffed his armor at the sound, leaning forward to press a light, teasing kiss to Perceptor's helm. The "mine" was back in his body language.

There was a pause, as Perceptor rapidly considered everything she could do, what the implication of her actions and Drift's were... The green optics of the Wrecker femmie softened and she kissed the swordsmech back on the lips.

There was dead silence, except for the sounds of hot solvent splashing down on armor and floor. The other mechs that had come in to wash up were staring in shock before three exchanged looks. A soft, "Fraaaag mech." Was spoken lowly, "Never seen Percy take a likin' ta' anyone like that. Not even ol' Ratchet."

"Or Mixmaster." Someone else muttered.

"Stop gossiping about me." Perceptor sighed.

Bulkhead grinned at the two from his spot, "Can't help it."

Drift returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around the red femme. Once they finally came up for air, he grinned over at the others. "I'm not like the other mechs. And I've taken quite a liking to her, too." Dark fingers rubbed light circles over the back of Perceptor's neck.

"Can see that," Bulkhead rumbled from where he was, shaking a bit to loosen the grit in his joints, waiting for his friends to help him once they were mostly done. The massive mech tilted his head, regarding Drift with dark green optics. He looked like he was going to say something, but politely would wait for Perceptor to leave first.

The white swordsmech nuzzled the femme, reluctantly releasing her and picking up the brush to deal with the paint streaks on his armor. He glanced curiously over at the bulky green mech.

Perceptor moved to start to help but paused, one hand lifting to the side of her helm. "What?" She frowned at the communication that only she could hear, paused again to look up at Drift, "I need to yell at someone, I'll be in the hall." She admitted, shooting a look at the other mechs who were partly oblivious. Though Perceptor wasn't fully sure one wasn't responsible, knowing the tactic of calling someone else to in turn call a person you wanted distracted.

Drift nodded. "When I'm finished cleaning up, I'll join you, and you can introduce me to the Foreman." He leaned over for a quick, affectionate nuzzle, watching her leave the room. The red femmie was humming as she left, the sound cutting off as the door closed.

"Don't think I've seen the PM that happy in a long time." Bulkhead said as he pushed off the wall to give himself a full body shake under the sprays, having to drop down partly on his hands and half way transform for the full motion.

"She's quite a femme. I've never met anyone like her before." Drift rubbed at a stubborn streak of black.

"All that's listed on her door?" The blue and green mech pitched in, "Just half of it, Roadbuster has to fight the Autobot High Consul three times a vorn to keep her here. If he wasn't a Foreman that old wanker Sentinel would have taken Percy to the surface a long time ago."

White armor ruffled. "I never liked Sentinel. He's one of the reasons I roam Cybertron's mid-levels rather than joining the Autobots on the surface. Mech's a prick."

"Mech has his helm up his aft!" one of the Wreckers put in, "Real glad lil' Hotrod bit the Prime when he was sparked."

There was laughter at that as the other remembered the story and someone else put in, "Wish I could have seen it, hear say is that the new Prime was holding Sentinel's arm until our lil' red bug was done chewin' on him!"

Drift laughed. "That would have been something to see." The streak of black paint came off, and the swordsmech turned his attention to a large patch of red.

A large finger poked at Drift's shoulder, Bulkhead had finally come over, in his other hand he held something almost lost in his massive clawed digits, "Oy." He said, and as the pale mech would learn the 'Oy' was a general word for the Wreckers, not unlike 'hey.'

The white mech looked up, tilting his head at the bigger mech. "Yes?"

"I can see yea' like Perceptor, she likes yea." Bulkhead said, calm even if the accent was slipping a bit more, "So, don't mind- can guess ya'both had fun this last shift. Don't mind that either."

Leaning down the big construction mech curled the digits of his free hand over Drift's shoulders, chest and torso before Bulkhead hefted the smaller mech up to his level. Completely off the ground. Dark green optics narrowed as his face guard lowered enough for the Wrecker to bare his fangs.

"Don't care if you end up leavin' either. But if you hurt Percy in any way, I'll be the first ta break yea' in five different places before she can shoot ya. Got it?" Bulkhead asked.

The warrior squawked in surprise as he was lifted off his feet, dangling from the big green mech's hand. Pale optics narrowed. "I don't plan on going anywhere. Don't intend to leave. And if it ever happens that I do hurt Percy, feel free to dig out my spark with my own swords." He shifted one sheath, tapping the hilt against Bulkhead's armor.

The big mech cocked his head to the right, looking at Drift long and hard for a click, ignoring the others that had all but plastered themselves on the far wall. Finally Bulkhead chuckled, "I believe ya. Kinda like ya." He said while putting the swordsmech back down, never hurting the whole time and even offered a bottle of pinkish solvent. "And here, this helps with the paint better."

"Thanks." Drift accepted the solvent with a nod. Pale optics flicked up to meet the Wrecker's. "And I always keep my word."

"Good thing to do in a Crew." Bulkhead nodded as he turned to walk back to his spot again, "Oy! Knock that off mechs, I won't run over you for 'Sigma's sake."

"You nearly run over everyone, you did run over Blaster."

"The kid's the size of a sparkling, everyone runs over poor Blaster!" Bulkhead defended, and just like that there was no more underlying tension towards Drift.

Drift chuckled at the banter. "Being a part of this Crew is certainly going to be interesting."

"A true Crew is more than the mechs ya work with." Bulkhead said scrubbing at his helm carefully so not to hurt himself, "Most here found a family too. Some just a mate, or mate, friends. Primus, if it wasn't for this Crew I'd be stuck on a fraggen' energon farm."

"I was a Decepticon once, until I met someone who changed my entire outlook on existence. If it hasn't been for him I'd still be a monster." White armor ruffled and flattened. "Sentinel I want nothing to do with... Maybe here I'll find a new place to belong. And perhaps, a mate." He glanced toward the door Perceptor had gone through.

"Decepticons are all monsters," the blue and green wrecker said, defended, "I know some Kaonites... but you seem to have your head and spark in the right places. Don't see why Roadbuster won't pull ya in. Just be honest with the Foreman, he likes that."

"And sparklings." Bulkhead put in grinning.

"Yeah, well, he's got two younglings. Surprised he and Topspin haven't made like five more..."

Drift looked over at the blue and green mech. "Have you ever heard of a Decepticon by the name Deadlock?"

"Nope, sorry lad." The Wrecker shrugged as he pulled a long sliver of metal out of his frame and sighed, "Was wondering if I had to go to Red Alert for that..."

"If Red Alert knows about Deadlock, you'll hear more than you ever want to." Drift got the last of the paint off himself, inspecting his armor for any more stray traces. "I think I got it all off..."

"Keep the bottle." bulkhead grinned over the interested looks of his friend, "I got more."

"...that's because you're trying to steal Longhaul from Hook's Crew."

"Fraggin' right I am!"

The white swordsmech shook his head. "Yup, it's definitely going to be interesting adjusting to this Crew."

"Any Crew!" was the cheer, and once seeing that Drift was clean, though still damp, two of the mechs pushed him out of the washracks and into the hall. Perceptor stood a door down, optics unfocused as she sorted something out internally or by linking up with the platform's coded network.

Chuckling, Drift let himself be pushed out. Shaking drops of solvent off his plating, he walked down the hall to join Perceptor, tilting his head as he waited for her to finish what she was doing.

She seemed aware of him, starting to come out of it, Perceptor's fingers twitching as if on a key pad before the white-ish glow of her visor faded and it flipped up. "Hmm... Sorry, they didn't bother you too much did they?" Perceptor asked looking up at Drift.

"No, they didn't bother me. The big one helped get the paint off my armor." Drift grinned at her. "They're interesting mechs."

"They do work with the foreman himself most of the time." Perceptor chuckled, reaching out to take Drift's hand, "He tends to attract interesting mechs. No one thought Leadfoot would join a new crew but he did."

Drift took Perceptor's hand, twining his fingers with hers. "The whole crew sounds like it's made up of interesting mechs."

"I can guarantee you will have very few dull moments." Perceptor promised as she started to lead the pale colored mech.

"I look forward to it." A soft purr vibrated Drift's armor as he followed her.

She loved that sound- loved the promise of a night like before under it. Perceptor shook herself as she walked, "I would suggest being honest with the Foreman in the interview, Roadbuster likes it when mechs and femmies are from the start of things."

"I'll be honest," Drift promised. He leaned close enough to brush his shoulder against hers briefly.

Perceptor started humming again at that as they headed to one of the 'official' Officers' Lounges. In honesty it was more like a 'quieter' place, as anyone could go in really. Once there and the doors opened for the two, they saw several mechs there, as well as two smaller younglings piled on top of bare silver mech. One was just about as big as Bulkhead, only not as... bulky, and from the markings on him he was search and rescue leader. Currently sprawled on his back on the floor with an energon cube on his chest, and grumbling about 'wankers from the surface' that have no business being in the lower levels.

Drift looked around with curious interest, ruffling his armor slightly. "I take it this is the rec room equivalent?"

"Er... no," Perceptor admitted as she looked around at those here, "This is far too tame, actually it's why I like it here better. Quieter, and you can hear yourself think."

The white mech tilted his head slightly, looking at the two younglings. "Been a long time since I've seen younglings."

"These are Hotrod," Perceptor walked right over to touch the red helm of one of the two, and then the golden youth, "And Wedge. He is the one here with treads over his hands, Hotrod has the wheels in place of average peds."

"Oy...whadda want wit' my- oh, Percy." The mech the two recharging youths were on top of shifted and looked up at the two. "What time is it?"

"Time to get up Foreman." Perceptor said gently but firmly, "You have an appointment."

"Right! I knew that..."

Drift followed Perceptor over, peering at the two younglings but not touching them. "So you're Roadbuster?"

With the experience of a parent, the silver mech managed to partly sit up, catch his younglings and deposited them both on the couch he'd been sprawled on without wakening them. The Foreman wasn't much bigger then Drift, and stretched his arms over his head before looking back.

"Ayep." He agreed, looking Drift over. All things considering what the Foremen were, the same equivalent rank as a Prime... there really wasn't anything different about Roadbuster. His paint job had long since died, and he had that classic color changing visor of most Wreckers. He didn't tower like the Primes nor purely loom like the Load Protectors, and basically seemed like he was anything but another 'normal' wrecker mech.

The white swordsmech stood there, looking the Foreman over as much as Roadbuster was looking him over. Pale blue optics were level, waiting for the older mech to speak again.

"Yae' got fragged in the good way shiela!" The mech finally laughed, and again as Perceptor slapped at his chest. "It's all good, relax Percy, ya know I love ya lass." He chuckled, having not been able to give up the chance at the tease.

"How could you possibly know?" Perceptor demanded.

Roadbuster shrugged and tapped his chest, "Got the Datum remember shiela? Ya're both giving off the right energy an' I can feel it. Stop standing all stiff an' come sit." He added to Drift, moving over to another chair and table to plop down in.

Drift chuckled, shifting his hip scabbards so he could settle onto the chair. "He's got us pegged already, Percy." He tilted his head toward Roadbuster. "I'm Drift."

"Foreman Roadbuster." The other mech grinned, "Heard from my PM here you want to join my Crew. Any job in particular?"

"I would suggest security." Perceptor said from where she stood near both mechs, her hands clasped behind her back, unsure or who to support more, so going neutral.

"I don't know enough about how a Crew works to even suggest a place," Drift admitted. One audial finial tilted toward Perceptor. "But Security sounds good. I've also been adopted by one of the cyber wolf pups Percy went to pick up, so I will have to learn how to handle a wolf."

"Wolves, foxes and raptors are with security and pest control." Roadbuster nodded, not minding 'losing' one of the cyberwolves, more so if Drift was to stay. "A Crew is broken up into three main sections. Security." He turned and pointed to the big red mech, "Support staff." the silver mech pointed at Perceptor next, and then thumbed at himself, "An' the level workers, construction."

"I've always been a warrior, so security is probably more for me," Drift replied after a moment.

"That involves more than just body guarding," Roadbuster said, wanting Drift to know all before fully agreeing. "Not just the Platform either. I have seven different and active sites working right now. An' pretty much a full Crew, 268 mechs and femmies, plus 59 contractors. Not including the next generation." Roadbuster pointed to his side, at the couch where his two younglings were still conked out.

Drift nodded. "Security for all of them, not just here."

The Foreman nodded, "Ayep. You'll be facing dead space, Empties sometimes, rogues, Pit mechs, and wild critters you've never dreamed of on the surface." He said, wanting Drift to understand the basic risks. "I won't send you out with X-Brawn's teams unprepared though, so you'll spend a few shifts learning about the lower levels first."

"Nothing I haven't encountered before, but the training will be helpful." Drift nodded.

"Roadbuster is very good about training," Perceptor assured as she finally sat down, closer to Drift, "He has never sent a rookie outside until they passed that training and evaluation."

"That's another thing." Roadbuster added as the Foreman sat up, "Right now you're considered a recruit, once you join the Crew, you're a Rookie until you prove yourself. No one, not even other Wreckers come inta my Crew with placed rank."

The white mech snorted softly. "I don't have a rank anyway. Wandering swordsmech. I'll work my way toward any rank within the crew."

The Foreman shugged, "Just lettin' yea know mate." He shifted and pulled something out of subspace. He held it up, showing the Wrecker emblem on the flex-metal sheet, "So, want a run o' yea life Drift?"

White armor ruffled and flared as the swordsmech nodded. "I want this."

Perceptor hummed softly and motioned to what Roadbuster was holding, "Take your new emblem then." She smiled at last, showing her hope that Drift would stay.

"It's temporary until after training and evaluation." The Foreman added, but he was still in good humor, fairly sure Drift would pass everything going off the feeling he was getting from his Datum.

Drift reached out to accept the emblem, running his fingers over it before looking up. "I understand."

Roadbuster chuckled, "Just don't put it on your aft." Perceptor ducked her head and covered her optics, groaning as the leader of the Wreckers burst out laughing. "Yea're never goin' to live that down shiela!"

Drift laughed, started putting the insignia on the front of his spaulder. "I sense a story behind that."

"I was over charged." Perceptor defended herself, "Blasted drinking games of Wreckers."

"Oy, ya're a Wrecker." Roadbuster pointed out, grinning.

"I am well aware Foreman."

The bare silver mech's grin widened at Drift, "Off shift now mate, have fun, see you at the lower decks at next shift!"

"Once I learn my way around this place, otherwise I'm likely to take a wrong turn," Drift tossed back with a chuckle. "Drinking games, huh? Anything like Decepticon drinking games?"

"I've never played any." Perceptor sighed, looking up as the amused Foreman put a hand on her helm while he got up to leave. "So I cannot compare with any accuracy"

"Decepticon drinking games usually involve weapons and loud brawls before long." Drift shrugged. "And lots and lots of hideously off-key singing."

"...that is disturbingly normal sounding." Perceptor sighed again, leaning back in her seat to look up at the ceiling. "Only it's more saws, claws and some random objects then energy weapons."

"Does half the crew end up in the medbay listening to the medic ranting his head off afterward?" Drift lifted an optic rim.

"Not half," the red femmie sat up, "And most all of the level workers have enough medical knowledge, so long as no lines are cut. Besides, Red Alert is normally in the center of things to start with. So it's not uncommon for her to pawn off her minions to the masses while nursing her own hangover."

Drift chuckled. "Sounds interesting." He leaned toward Perceptor.

She looked back at him, seeming to be more relaxed then the day before... or rather the shift before. "Here," The femmie reached out to take the flex metal sheet, rising to stand beside Drift, "Where do you want to put this, sir Drift?"

"Right here." Drift tapped the front of his spaulder. "It won't show in my vehicle mode, but it will be visible in root mode."

Perceptor moved closer to start putting the new emblem on his shoulder, flipping a tool out of her arm to use the heat of it to bond the flex metal to the armor. As it melded on the flex metal went transparent with the heat, leaving the green emblem to stare out into space. Perceptor's slender fingers smoothed over the spot a few times before she moved her hands lower.

Drift watched as the insignia was applied, his engine turning over and rumbling softly. Pale optics lifted to meet Perceptor's. Her green gaze met his, and Perceptor was debating on trying to drag Drift away as the Foreman had hinted at. Though he did need to learn at least the basics of the platform... and come to think of it, how to access the network that boosting coms and let one tap into maps.

The white mech's engine purred. As quick as he could manage, he swooped in to deliver a light peck on the cheek, then straightened, a teasing grin on his face.

Perceptor's black fingers skittered over the connection of hip and sheath on Drift's side before stepping back and turning, "Well, shall we see Red Alert now?"

"Good luck mate." Roadbuster called from where he was picking up one of his younglings.

"It would be good to see as much of the platform as possible, otherwise I just know I'm going to get lost." Drift stood, ruffling and resettling his armor.

"You will need to know how to get to medical." Perceptor said, pausing by the big form of Inferno to nudge at him, but finding he was now in recharge. Sighing at that, the femmie left him there to be pestered by others later, "This way."

Drift ghosted past Inferno, giving the big mech a sideways look as he passed. "Some mechs take advantage of the relative quiet to nap in here, hm?"

"If they make it here," Perceptor chuckled, "I can guarantee that after your first full shift, when X-Brawn lets you go, you will be recharging before you can take in energon." She looked back at Drift, "And we should find you a room that is agreeable to you Drift."

"Any empty rooms near yours?" Pale optics flicked in her direction.

"There is one yes." Perceptor nodded, "Not as large of a main room though."

"Might be spending more time in your room." Those pale optics sparkled.

Ah, there was that thrill like feeling back, it made Perceptor stand more upright and her energy field flexed with small ripples of not so repressed excitement. "That I think would be very agreeable to me." she said pausing at a lift door.

"I like the sound of it as well." Drift's energy field rippled against hers, his engine still purring as he watched her.

Perceptor leaned into the mech this time, reaching out to take one of his hands. "I should give you the codes to the platform network before seeing Red Alert."

Drift curled his fingers around hers. "Sounds like a plan."

"It should be enough time in the lift," She said, paused and added, "If you do not mind a hard line link Drift...?"

"Just be careful... I have some nasty firewalls left over from my time with the 'Cons," the larger mech warned.

"It's not a hack, or like it," Perceptor said as the lift door opened, and seeing no one inside she walked backwards into it, pulling Drift with her. "Though intimate, it is the best way to learn by watching how I access the network." It was true enough, though not the only way it was one of the easier.

The white mech extended his arm, an armor panel folding back to expose the connection point. "I have no objections to a hardline, then."