Understood
-o-o-o-o-o-
Chapter 10
-o-o-o-o-o-
Winter had come to Kaon, bringing with it the icy storms sucked down from Cybertron's polar regions. It had begun raining the day before payday and four days later the rain continued to fall as sleet.
Tailgate stood beneath the broad reflector of the streetside light in front of the Old Kaon Tavern. It wasn't much shelter, but it was better than complete exposure, at least until the wind picked up. If he could get at least one good customer tonight, it would start to make up for the poor showing of this past payday. The usual flood of fun-seekers had been a mere trickle thanks to the weather. At least Swerve had been lucky. On the second day a big ugly tank-former with a shiny new promotion had engaged him for three cycles, which turned into seven when he found Swerve to be likable company beyond the interfacing.
Distant female laughter caused Tailgate to look up from studying his fingertips. Three seeker femmes were moving up the street in the ice-laden rain—sometimes walking, sometimes skipping, sometimes stumbling. They obviously were out on a pub crawl of Overdock, bad weather be damned.
He watched them pass and come to a shaky halt in front of the Old Kaon Tavern. "This is the place," declared the center one, obviously the trine-leader. On the ground or in the air, seekers always clung to their formation.
"Here?"
"Yes. The Old Kaon Tavern. 'Been here longer than Megatron."
"That old? Really?" asked the magenta femme. Her unusual coloration stood out even in the dimming effect of the half-frozen rain. Her Decepticon sigil and trim were done in white rather than the usual purple.
"It is." The trine-leader stepped up to the greeter beneath the large awning, who immediately switched on the air hose and began to blast the cold precipitation from her plating. The other two waited their turn. Tailgate went back to studying his fingertips. He could really use a fresh enameling of his hands.
"Hey dummy! Get out of the rain!" came a shout from one of the femmes in Tailgate's direction, followed by a loud laugh.
Tailgate looked about, and seeing no other mechs about the street, he pointed at himself. Had the gold-faced seeker just addressed him as 'dummy'?
"Yeah, you! Get out of the rain! What are you doing standing out there?"
As if to emphasize the misery of his post, a sudden gust of wind pelted him with sleet.
"Calm down, Flightstar. He's a prostitute," said the trine-leader, turning herself so the greeter could blast the water from her front side now. "He's just out there looking for some business. Don't you know anything about Overdock?"
"Well I know he's a prostitute." She turned again to Tailgate. "Well why don't you at least stand under a roof or something? Nobody wants to frag a half-frozen valve!" she hollered at him and laughed once more.
"Oh be nice, 'Star," said the magenta seeker. And she left the tavern's deep awning and doorway and went out to where Tailgate stood. "I'm sorry about my sister," she apologized. "She's kinda drunk and thinks she's funny."
Tailgate straightened. "It's okay. We're used to dealing with drunks around here. Comes with the territory."
The femme tilted her head slightly, taking in the minibot. "Forgive me for being ignorant—this is my first time in Overdock—but why are you out here in the rain instead of inside the tavern? Or at least under an awning or something?"
"Kaonian regulations," Tailgate replied matter-of-factly. "Unless invited by the business management or a patron, we're not allowed to solicit inside or within ten meters of a business entrance. And this area is my usual place to hang out when working."
"Oh, I see. Must be awful on nights like this."
"It is. But there's not much else we can do."
It was then that Tailgate noticed the seeker was smiling at him. "Why don't you come inside with us? Warm up a bit and I'll buy you a cube."
"That's nice of you, but you don't have to. Your apology was more than I ever get."
"C'mon, I want to. You look like you could use a little fuel. Your optics are looking kinda dim."
"Oh, sorry. I'd switched to power-conservation mode." His optics immediately brightened.
"Come on. You'll feel better," said the femme, stretching out her hand to him.
Tailgate didn't hesitate a third time and allowed her to lead him up to the doorway.
"Comet! What the slag...?" asked the gold-faced seeker, currently getting the water blasted off of her. The trine-leader had already gone inside.
"I'm just buying him a drink. Isn't he cute?"
The obnoxious femme groaned and turned for the greeter. "Just keep your pockets locked. I hear the whores out here steal anything that isn't bolted down." And when the greeter was finished with her, Tailgate found himself pushed forward and blasted by hot air, which alone felt wonderful. He'd be dripping for a while out of his ankles, but at least he was no longer soaking.
"Don't mind Flightstar. She's just annoying sometimes," said the magenta femme to him when her sister had gone in.
Inside the Old Kaon Tavern, Tailgate sat with the seeker femmes at a table near the empty space that passed for a dance-floor, a good sized cube of something his benefactor called "Fornaxian Flame" warming his hands. Admittedly he did feel better already without the icy rain assaulting him and some potent fuel beginning to digest in his tank.
The gold-faced femme was staring at him. "I can't believe you brought him in here," she said to her sister.
"So? Can't I be nice to someone now and then?"
"I don't have to pay mechs to go out with me," was the teasing retort.
Tailgate had to admit, the gold-faced seeker was very beautiful, easily the prettiest of the three, and could probably get any mech interested in her. At least until she opened her mouth.
"What? I'm just buying him a drink. He looked so cold out there. You were cold, weren't you, sweetie?" She put her arm around Tailgate and hugged him against her.
"I was," he said shyly. He might get a second drink out of this if he put on the right act. Some patron might also notice him as well while he was in here.
The trine-leader came back from the bar with a bottle of something, and to Tailgate's surprise, four glasses on the tray. "Vosian energon wine!" she said delightedly, setting the tray down and filling the four glasses. Well, there was his second drink. It had been a good decision to go inside with the femme.
"Ooh! Vosian wine! Jetstream! I love you!" giggled the gold-faced seeker.
When each had a glass in hand, a toast was made. "Here's to Blackwing's promotion and transfer to Helex," said the trine-leader. "May we never see our dear commanding officer again."
"I'm sure they'll replace him with someone just as miserable," commented the magenta femme.
The three seekers laughed and drank, and Tailgate drank with them, being extra careful not to dribble any of the wine. The song playing over the sound system changed and the gold-faced seeker immediately perked up. "Ooh! Gotta dance!" she said and rose. "C'mon Jetstream. Let's shake it!" she said, grabbing the deep green femme's hand and dragging her onto the dance-floor where a couple of other bots were already doing just that.
"Thanks for coming in with me," said the magenta seeker to Tailgate. "You did look pretty miserable out there."
"Gotta make a living somehow," he replied and drank the rest of the wine before going back to what remained of the warm orange energon. "You're very kind."
"I suppose I can be sometimes."
"Comet! Get your aft out here!" called the obnoxious one, coming over to grab her trinemate.
"Sorry," she apologized to Tailgate as she was dragged onto the dance floor.
Tailgate watched the three. They weren't bad—just the usual Decepticon cannon fodder that paid his bills. There were thousands like them out there. Most weren't pretty femmes as these were, but their purpose was the same.
"So how much to get you to 'face my sister?" asked the usual culprit when two of the three returned to the table. The trine-leader was still out on the dance floor, some purple and grey flyer having taken an interest in her and now taking advantage of the slow song that had come up next.
"'Star!" gasped the magenta femme.
"What? Just asking." She sat down next to Tailgate and leaned in closely. "What do you charge for it? You see it's hard for her to meet guys 'cause she looks so plain and boring next to me so they kinda ignore her. But she could seriously use a good fragging. Do you know how to please a lady?"
"I do," said Tailgate confidently. It wasn't a lie. He'd been dating a femme in Pescus Hex before dumping her for Swerve. And how could anyone describe her as 'plain and boring'? Even if the magenta seeker's faceplate paled beside that of her sister, her brilliant coloration more than made up for it beauty-wise. Add to that her kindly personality and she easily outshone her trinemate.
"I was just being nice 'cause you were so rude to him. I wasn't trying to pick him up."
"C'mon, you obviously like him," she grinned wickedly. "So how much, little guy?"
The magenta seeker, obviously embarrassed, quickly poured herself more of the energon wine and drank it down quickly. "Not interested," she said through gritted denta.
Tailgate kinda hated himself for it, but he could really use the sale, and the femme would be probably be a pleasant job. "Three hundred for the first cycle. Two-fifty each additional cycle." He said quietly, quoting on the low side in hopes of the offer being accepted. A warm berth shared with her would be a pleasure on a day like this.
"Ooh! So worth it! I'm going to hire you to clang my sister here," the gold-faced femme giggled.
"'Star!"
"C'mon. You'll love it. He knows what to do with a femme."
"Yes I heard," she said turning her head away.
"Oh stop being shy. You thought he was cute and all and called him sweetie."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I want to 'face him."
"You do. I know you do." She dug into a pocket and pulled out a handful of credit chips, counted out five hundred onto the table, and then pushed them in Tailgate's direction. "Here. And the extra is for a hotel room or something," she said with another giggle.
"Oh Primus," the magenta femme moaned, turning away again embarrassedly.
"If you really don't want to, you don't have to," Tailgate said softly. As much as he hoped she did, he didn't want her feeling awkward about it. He took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
She sighed and looked down at again at him, the little blue and white mech tucked up against her thigh, and Tailgate gave her his sweetest smile. The purple Decepticon officer had so quickly broken him of his habit of keeping his mask up all the time. "Fine," she said, reaching for the wine again and downing another glass. And then she smiled once more. "He is cute."
"Just keep your pockets locked."
-o-o-o-o-o-
"Understood" continues in Chapter 11
-o-o-o-o-o-
Author's Note: This is my second favorite chapter of the many I've written for this story. I hope you enjoyed it too!
-o-o-o-o-o-
Transformers and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of Hasbro and Takara Tomy. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.