Greetings readers, and happy 2022!

I'm sorry I've been silent for so long. I've had a lot going on the past few months, from being super busy with work, to feeling burned out at work, to re-thinking my entire life, to weird inexplicable health problems...

In any case, excuses aside, I have been chipping away at Age of Smoke whenever I have the time and energy. I'm about 20% through the revision of part 1, but I don't want to start posting until I'm confident it's shaping up to be what I want it to.

I'm also working on drafting a new side story, when the mood takes me. It's slow going, and I'm not sure if it'll be done before or after the Age of Smoke revision, so I don't know when I'll post it. However, I couldn't think of a good spare parts chapter to post with this update, so I figured I'd offer a sneak peek on the upcoming side story instead. It's not very polished, which I apologize for, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! :)

Beta 9 Excerpt:

"If you don't pull these scores up, young mech, then I'm afraid you can't stay at this Academy."

Knockout stared dully down at the datapad that held his scores in his classes. It wasn't his fault he didn't have any time to study.

"The term is almost over. If you do well on your exams in your classes-if you can just pull a few of them up to passing, then we'll let you stay."

He frowned slightly.

"But to be honest-can I be completely honest with you, Knockout?"

Knockout looked up. He would have liked to say 'no' but that might be too honest for his academic advisor.

"I just don't think you're cut out to be a medic."

That couldn't be true. Knockout had to become a medic. It was one of the best paying jobs in the whole city-state, and Knockout needed the credit if he wanted to live comfortably. "I'll get my grades up," he said. "Really, I will."

"You'd better," his academic advisor said. "If we're going strictly by Academy policies, you should already have been expelled. But I've spoken to the dean on your behalf, and…"

Knockout zoned out as the mech droned on, praising his own generosity, trying to make Knockout feel guilty for taking time for himself and relaxing once in a while. Nomech wanted to study all the time, and Knockout was pretty sure he shouldn't have to. Repairs weren't that complicated-definitely not as complicated as these teachers seemed to think they were.

Knockout had never done very well in school, and he was used to everyone being disappointed in him, but they never actually kicked him out. He'd made it this far, and he'd make it to the end, and then become a medic and make so much credit that he could get an even nicer alt mode.

"...are you listening to me?"

Knockout blinked. "Of course," he said. "Thank you so much for this enlightening conversation. I'll just… be going now." He took the datapad with his grades on it, and slipped out of the room, feeling his advisor's optics on him as he went.

"Yeesh," he rolled his optics as he walked down the hall.

He needed to get out of here. He'd been cooped up in this building too long. The dull colors and washed out lighting made him feel all bland and boring.

He couldn't wait to be finished with school for good.

He pushed open the doors and transformed. He didn't go driving a lot—he didn't want to get his paint job damaged—but he needed to blow off some steam.

It wasn't as if he enjoyed failing his classes. It wasn't like he was failing them on purpose. He just had other things to do, like exploring the streets and shops of the city-state, and looking on the public database for all the things he'd buy once he was wealthy.

He took the long way home, which he hadn't done for quite some time, and transformed to walk the last few blocks, because the streets weren't as well-kept and he didn't want to go over too many bumps, or risk having a piece of loose gravel fly up and scratch him.

This street were particularly dull. There was a handful of empty shops on one side, and run down apartments on the other. At least his neighborhood wasn't this shabby. And…

What was that? One of the shops was lit up on the inside and, as Knockout watched, a few mecha trickled out the doors.

Fascinating. Someone must have bought the place. Curious, he crossed the street and walked up to the shop. A sign over the door read "Beta 9 Cafe." The 'cafe' was smaller and didn't quite match, as if it had been an afterthought.

The light and chatter on the inside drew him through the doors. Based on the atmosphere and patronage, it was actually a cafe, like it said on the door, not a bar. He tilted his helm to the side as he judged his surroundings. The light background music had been chosen well, and the color scheme was unique, but…

The only thing that accomplished was to made the whole place uniquely hideous.

Especially the floor. The floor was an awful green and orange. Why had they chosen those floor tiles, especially since the rest of the decorations had blue in them? And now that he'd noticed it, he could barely stand it.

He was about to turn and leave and never come back when the mech behind the counter waved him over with a cheerful "Good orn!"

Knockout sighed. He supposed it would only be polite to order something, since he'd come in. Though if the energon was as tacky as the color scheme, it might be a complete waste of credit.

"Haven't seen you here before," the mech said. "What's your designation?"

"Knockout," Knockout said. This mech seemed nice. "And you?"

"Breakdown. Good to meet you. Our menu's up on the wall, but you can have a copy yourself if you want. Take all the time you need to look through our options."

Knockout accepted the datapad from him and turned it on. The menu wasn't designed too badly. It was easy to read and straightforward, and the balance of white space, text, and images was nice. If it wasn't for the unfortunate color scheme again….

Oh, he was supposed to be ordering, wasn't he?

They had all the usual things. Different processing methods for the energon as a base, and then various benign chemical additives that would change the flavor. They also had some specialty combinations.

"I will have… the smooth double processed with sulfur and carbon."

"All right. That'll be ready for you in a few breems. You can sit here at the counter, or find a table somewhere."

"Thank you," Knockout said, and walked away. He almost sat at a table with a couple of other mecha, but decided against it. He didn't want to bother them, and there was no guarantee they would want to talk to a stranger.

He ended up sitting by himself off to the side of the room. To avoid feeling awkward, he focused on watching and listening to the other mecha in the small shop. Several more mecha came in as he watched, and went up to the counter to talk to… oh, scrap, Knockout had forgotten his designation already.

A sleek yellow mech rushed around the room with mesmerizing swiftness, delivering decorative cubes of energon to various tables, before slipping behind the counter and disappearing again.

Mecha ordered and dispersed to various tables.

Then the yellow mech came back with another set of cubes. He came over to Knockout's table and set a cube of energon in front of him.

"There you go," he said, and rushed off before Knockout could thank him.

The service was certainly quite timely. But was the energon good? Cautiously, Knockout held the cube to his olfactory sensor and then took a sip.

It was… surprisingly good, actually. The flavors were balanced right, which was uncommon. Knockout had intentionally ordered a combination that was difficult to get right. You only wanted a hint of sulfur. If you put too much in, it overpowered the carbon and make the energon too bitter instead of giving just the right bite to the flavor.

He settled back to watch the bustling activity in the little shop. This was nice. He should come again sometime—maybe invite some of his friends. Well, once he made some, that was.

A mech got up from a table across the room with an angry expression on his faceplate and stormed up to the counter. Knockout watched with interest. It looked like not all of the customers here were as happy as he was with the service.

"Hello," the friendly mech at the counter said. "What can I help you with, sir?"

"I ordered your original thirteen flavor. I don't know what this slag is, but it isn't that."

"I'm so sorry," the mech said. "We must have gotten mixed up. There are a lot of mecha to serve."

"This is the second time I've been here and both times you gave me the wrong energon! This place is poorly run. I want to speak with the manager!"

The mech at the table next to Knockout's snorted.

"What?" Knockout asked quietly.

"Poor fool," the mech said, grinning. "Just watch, this is always entertaining."

"Are you sure?" asked the friendly mech behind the counter.

"Of course I'm sure! Let me speak with your manager, and I'll let him exactly what I think of the service around here!"

The mech at the counter nodded in a defeated sort of way and went through the doorway that the yellow mech kept appearing and disappearing from.

He came back a few astroseconds later, followed by a huge, mean-looking mech-almost big enough to be a transport.

The angry customer leaned back as the big mech loomed over him, clenching his hands into fists. "You got a problem?"

"W-what?"

"This is our manager, Motormaster," The friendly mech said. "You wanted to complain to him?"

"Uh…"

"I asked you a question, loser," the 'manager' said. "You got a problem?"

"N-no, thanks, everything's fine," the mech said.

"Good," the 'manager' growled, and the mech scurried out the door, muttering to himself.

"Hmm," Knockout said. "Remind me never to complain about the service here."

"Yeah," the mech next to him said. "It's a bad idea. Ey, Drag Strip!"

The yellow mech, who'd just dropped off a couple cubes of energon at a nearby table, headed over. "Hey. How's it going, mech?"

"I think you just lost yourselves another customer."

Drag Strip huffed a short laugh. "No loss there. He was a glitch last time he was here too."

"You didn't give him the wrong order on purpose, did you?"

The mech held his hands up, smiled mischievously, and slipped away.

Knockout finished his energon and took the cube up to the counter.

"Hello again… Knockout was it?"

"Yes," Knockout said, searching his memory files in vain. "...um…and you?"

"Breakdown," the mech said. "How was your energon?"

"It was excellent, thank you."

He left the cafe, feeling much better about everything. Maybe he'd go back sometime. It was conveniently located on his way between school and home, and the mecha there had seemed friendly.

Not that he was in the business of befriending energon servers. They were definitely beneath his station. Absolutely. He'd already forgotten that mech's designation again, and he doubted it would ever stick in his memory core.

Notes:

1. Thanks for reading!

2. I'm sorry I can't make any promises for future updates. My general hiatus on all my projects here may last a while, but I'll get back to posting as soon as I can.

3. Have a great year everyone!