A/N: I've got the pic with Soundwave colored up on my DA page, please have a look-see! ^_^ Thank you to all my awesome readers! ^_^ Please Enjoy and Review!
To SEZwho94: Th-that would be awful if he found that in the channel! XD I didn't even consider that! I gotta tell ya, I got a good laugh outta reading that one :D and be careful if you ever do decide to get yourself a transformer, it can become an addiction! XD
To Vivienne Grainger: Thank you ^_^ and I felt that things were getting way to serious/depressing for too long, so I had to have a mischievous Nightbeat to lighten things up X) ya might as well go stir up trouble if you don't know who you are anyways :D
Thank you to my reviewers! ^_^
Although it is located a ways away from Cybertron's equator, Kaon's climate is comparable to that of the Pit itself. Constant torrents of toxic smoke veil the skies, the cheap city lights beneath painting them orange and red. This thick atmosphere in turn creates a massive greenhouse effect unlike any other on the face of Cybertron leading to temperatures that could melt the paint off anybot who didn't have the proper finish coat.
Mirage is one of these bots.
At the moment, however, he's too busy to notice the embarrassing streaking drops of paint rolling down his chassis as he enjoys a well-needed refueling in a small pub that for the most part is empty due to the time of the solar cycle it is. An eerie orange glow softly penetrates the white-coated windows, spilling its faded hues onto the rusty, copper tables and sitting stools.
Being the young gentlebot that he is, Mirage sits with a straight posture and is sure to stick out a pinkie as he (not so politely) chugs the energon offered to him.
"You sure were hungry, huh? 'Must not be used to missing a meal." A husky voice ponders in a friendly tone.
Feeling embarrassed for his slipping dining etiquette, Mirage lowers his cup from his mouth and dips his optics as he swallows a mouthful quite audibly. He has yet to speak a word to this kind stranger; his vocalizer won't seem to work.
He's never seen such a beautiful femme.
She sits at the opposite side of the table from him, appearing rather comfortable in this run-down energon-hole. Mirage raises the cup back to his lip components when he feels his cheeks redden as she leans her cheek against her palm –staring at him with a small smile.
This femme is definitely a surprise to come by in a place like Kaon; with her golden plated helmet and softly refined facial plates, she looks like she could fit right into the High Tower Pavilions with ease. As pretty as she is, though, she has an aura of power about her; of authority and strength. Mirage considers to himself what her occupation could possibly be; she could be a Gladiator perhaps, or a queen of a gang.
The femme's small smile turns into a knowing smirk as she catches Mirage stealing glances at her, leading him to nearly choke on his energon.
"You're definitely not from around here, so where you from, hon?" The femme sits up straight and stretches a little.
The blue and white sparkling tries not to watch her chassis as she twists to pop her back springs into place. Deciding that this femme may be his only chance for help, he speaks up, "What makes you so sure?" He's curious to know why –even when he is in his current state, covered in dirt and grime –it is so obvious that he is not a local.
"Well, for starters, your paint is dripping off your chassis like it wasn't meant to resist the kinda heat Kaon sustains." She gestures to the little one's chassis and continues, "Plus, the fact that you're a sparkling walking the streets alone. Now, unless you're packing some kind of super weapon, that ain't normal. Kids around here know better than to go wandering about without protection –as in adults."
Mirage feels his vocal chords tighten at being found out. What was she going to do? What if she's planning on selling him? There has been plenty of gossip back at the Towers about the slave-trade that the Council is turning a blind optic to for whatever reason. The frightening thought quickly passes, however, when the femme's words process entirely, "Oh no!" Looking down at his chassis, Mirage feels a sense of terror grip him. Taking a high-society bot's paint is like taking his plating –he'll practically be naked!
Chuckling softly at the child's overly dramatic reaction, she reassures him, "Don't worry about it, paint can be replaced." She then leans forward, lowering her processor to be optic-level with Mirage, "But listen, kid, I need to know who you are and where you came from. Kaon isn't a place for a sparkling like you."
Should he tell her who he is? Is she truly concerned for his well being? Wait –what if she's a sparkling-napper? What if she decides to hold him for ransom once she finds out he's a Towers bot from Iacon? Mirage comes to a grim realization that in Kaon, he can't trust anyone.
He'll have to lie.
"I… I'm from Iacon, yeah, but… I'm from Sector D-12 –Sector Capri. My name is… Mirage." He supposes that his name should be safe enough to give.
The femme stares him in the optics for a moment, her features neutral and unreadable. She may know he's lying. She then bobs her head and leans back into her chair, "Alright, Mirage. Did you say… Sector Capri?" A sideways grin overtakes her expression for a brief moment before she holds a balled servo to her lips in a contemplative manner, "You, uh, wouldn't happen to know any Academy students around there, would ya?"
"I, uh, no. Sorry." Mirage fiddles with his empty energon container nervously.
"Right, right, okay. Hm." Her head leans to one side as her brow furrows a little as she studies the small bot before her, "Okay, Mirage, how did you end up here in Kaon?"
How indeed. This is the part where Mirage is going to need to think, and fast. Coming up with a plan, Mirage answers, "I came here with… my family. But I got separated from them, last solar cycle. I need to return to them, to find my brother."
'To find my brother'? That last bit sure didn't sound right. Why would he need to return to his family in order to find his brother? Isn't he the one who is going to be found? And how strange is it that she hasn't received any reports of a missing sparkling around here, didn't his creators care enough? Deciding to keep her thoughts to herself, the femme puts it aside for now, "Alright, Mirage. We'll get you to your family." She offers her servo to the little one, "I'm Roulette, and I'm an Enforcer here in Kaon."
"Have you gone completely insane? Do you realize what an embarrassment you've brought onto this foundation? Never in all my Meta-cycles have I -Prowl , what on Cybertron where you thinking?" Sentinel Major's booming voice reverberates in the spacious office, effectively piercing through Prowl's processor.
"Sir, you must listen –I know that child was Nightbeat! I have several witnesses, including a highly regarded Medical Officer –including his own mother! He may have been unresponsive to us due to something his captors did to his—"
"I saw the vid feed myself, Prowl. And all I saw was one of my students breaking into and entering a high-security community –the High Towers, for Primus's sake! –and harassing an esteemed foreign politician! The kid looks nothing like the one you're looking for –and I still believe the real one's just run away! That's what kids do! But that's not important—"
"Clearly." Prowl shuts his optics tightly the moment he opens his vocalizer as he feels his tanks twist at his idiotic remark. He's not helping himself, here; or Nightbeat.
Sentinel Major stares long and hard at his insubordinate student. What's gotten into this one? A straight and narrow, by the books, ideal student that teachers only dream of having –and he pulls a stunt like this? "You're obsessed, Prowl. Your processor is the one that needs checking up." The Department chief looks down at a datapad on his desk for a moment, feeling disappointment and regret for what he must do, "That's why you're on paroled suspension until further notice. You're lucky I don't throw you in the brig."
"I-?" Prowl's face plates freeze in shock at this. Well, what had he expected? There is no reasoning with Sentinel Major, he's too stubborn and refuses to be wrong. Perhaps this is… for the better. However, the young Praxian must give it at least one more try, for Nightbeat's sake, "Sir, please, if you would just review my findings, I—"
"Enough, Prowl. You're dismissed to your quarters in the dorms. You'll receive the details on your parole conditions; I expect you to follow them." Sentinel Major gives his student a stern look.
Prowl's mouth remains open for a moment, though no sound comes out, until he finally lets it fall shut. Releasing a silent sigh, he straightens up and salutes his superior before turning to leave.
He could just run. Why should he go wait in his room? He's not a sparkling, why should he be treated like this? He could go find Minerva and they could find a way to reach Kaon, to reach Nightbeat. That slagger… that fragging slagger! Why won't he even listen to all the evidence that Prowl's found? A sparkling's life is in danger! Are these bots here mad? He's not the insane one, no. It's the powers that be. They bring about their peace and prosperity by means of ignorance and insanity!
Before he knows it, Prowl finds himself at the door to his room. He stares down at the key pad, its flashing red lights reflecting the rage in his spark. He sighs, feeling utterly defeated as he raises his digit to the pad and enters his code. Perhaps he ought to wait for the recharge cycle to fall, for the security of the dark. There may yet be something useful that he could do here at the Academy until then.
"Wilder, what do you have there?" my femme caretaker asks in a somewhat distasteful tone.
"It's a ray gun. Neat, huh? Look, it's got a light, too, and I think it's supposed to make noises, but the power core's dead." I hold up the treasure I had fished out of the channel earlier and take aim at a non-existent enemy at the other end of the kitchen as I sit at the table with a datapad. I can't shake the weird feeling that I've seen this toy before; didn't I have a dream that had one in it?
"It's filthy, is what it is." She comes over and before I know it's gone and she has it in her servos. Nice trick; what is she, a pick-pocket? She studies it for a moment, a funny look scrunching her features until she looks at me. I hold my servos together and muster up the best sparkling face I can, earning a giggle from the femme. "Alright, at least let me wash it up for you. It could have all kinds of nasty things on it if you just found it lying about."
"Thank you!" I hop off my seat and grab the datapad I had been reading – 'Volume One: The History of Cybertronian Crime'. I find its contents to be absolutely fascinating, but I can't reason why it feels like I've read it before. My femme caretaker had thought it to be an odd request from me, telling me that I had never been interested in such a topic before, but nonetheless provided me with a copy.
I dart down the long hallways of our living quarters, pretending that I'm chasing down an elusive saboteur. Reaching my room, I launch myself into the air and land on my berth while making a crashing sound with my vocalizer. Sitting up and setting my datapad aside, I take a long look about 'my' room; really looking at it for the first time.
I feel… uneasy about looking around at its contents, like it's none of my business. The room really doesn't provide much for the optics, anyways. There are only a few book shelves and some chests lining the walls. Overall, the room is quite bland. No posters on the walls, no sentimental items set about. Nothing.
It seems very… cold. Not the way someone's room is supposed to be. It's like the room is literally used for nothing more than storage and recharge.
I slide off the edge of the berth onto my pedes and slowly walk over to one of the chests. Maybe I can try to remember something by looking at the kinds of things I own. I kneel by the metal container and lift the top. Peeking in, I'm disappointed to see only necessities and school supplies. Huh. I thought I was too smart for school, so why all the supplies?
I dig around through the chest's contents, pulling it out until the chest is seemingly empty. Sitting back on my pedes, I think for a moment. Deciding to be thorough, as I may have put anything anywhere thinking I would remember, I push the chest to the side. Nothing but floor.
But wait, no, not nothing but floor –something is odd. I can just barely make out the shape of a rectangle on the surface of the floor. I run a digit along the outline then look around to see if I have anything around that may be of use. I pick up a thin-tipped writing stylus out of the pile of school supplies and dig it into the edge of the rectangle until the edge begins lifting up out of the floor. Setting the stylus down, I pull the rest of the cut-out off the apparent hole in the floor.
What could I possibly be trying so hard to hide? I push aside some blank papers that were precariously put in the hole to perhaps conceal whatever is beneath. I reach my servo down into the dark hole, and feel my digits bump into something. It's small, but heavy. I pull it up and—A GUN! I nearly drop it but fumble to catch it, feeling my pulse quicken.
What on Cybertron is this? What am I, a drug runner? A mobster? No, that can't be. I know myself well enough to at least know I would never go to that side. I quickly look over to my open bedroom door to make sure Silhouette isn't coming down the hall. I set the gun down and quickly get up to shut the door. Sitting back down, I check the gun to make sure it's on safety before setting it back into the hole. It would probably be best to just leave it there.
Before I raise my servo back out, I feel it brush against something else. Lifting it slowly as if it might be a bomb, I'm relieved to find it to be a simple tin box. Perhaps it's filled with cards depicting the top racers on Cybertron? I open the box, and indeed I find a metal card, but no racer stats. I lift the card up and study the distinctive, purple emblem carved into it.
There's a location inscribed on the back; an underground stadium of some kind, right here in Kaon. There's some kind of event that's held twice every Deca-cycle, and tonight appears to be one of those nights.
A/N: Has anyone else missed Brawl and Barricade? :D Nightbeat is up for a big night on the town, and let's hope he's not afraid of heights.