Understood

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Chapter 30

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Tailgate stood at the riverside where the main quay was rooted in the embankment, leaning upon the railing and looking out across the water, its grey surface whipped into small waves by the wind. He and a few others had decided to try showrooming out here in hopes of luring a few clients when the industrial dockyards closed for the day. It had worked for Shine, who'd been taken home by one of the dockworkers only a breem after the closing whistle sounded. But then Shine found plenty of clients due to her uncommon beauty—beauty enough to work in the houses in Lower Kaon. She probably would have been working at one were it not for the fact she was missing an arm.

But a cycle had passed since the workplaces had let out for the day and Tailgate trudged back to Seventh Cycle Street, mask down and smiling hopefully at passers-by. It had been lonely without Swerve around and he'd not found anyone to partner up with. This past payday had been a loss. In the deca-cycle before, the Enforcers had cracked down on the black ice dealers that had been proliferating in Overdock, along with a simultaneous sweep of unlicensed streetwalkers. And while neither directly applied to Tailgate or his clientele, the publicity had been bad and a lot of mechs stayed away from the district. Instead of the usual four to six thousand credits he usually made over the three days he'd brought in a measly twenty-two hundred. This was bad.

Really bad.

He'd hoped that things would pick up after the Enforcers announced they were pulling out—that having been two days before payday. But still Seventh Cycle Street was nearly empty. And it wasn't just the streetwalkers suffering either. The taverns and houses and hotels were suffering as well. Worse yet, winter and its lean season were on the way.

How was he going to make rent? The apartment was lovely, and he enjoyed living there, but it really was proving too much of a strain on his budget. He already owed Swerve nine thousand credits. If he fueled sparingly and there were no surprises, five or six more decent clients would allow him to squeak by. But that wouldn't pay off Swerve. If only things had been better on payday. If only Cyclonus hadn't been so noticeably absent. For once he probably would have done better in the workcamps.

He found his post at the Old Kaon Tavern and leaned against the railing as always. Five or Six more. Don't look too desperate. Don't look like you need the money. Smile and look attractive. Be a tease.

After two cycles the sound of a descending flyer made him look up from the novel he was reading to distract himself, one he'd found left lying on a bench the previous day. And then he recognized the flyer landing right in front of him, cringing as he did. The jets belonged to the blue and orange seeker—the workmate of Cyclonus' that had taken him and Swerve back to his place for three cycles of humiliation and abuse.

"Hey, Tailgate," he called, dropping into the street in front of the minibot. "Hey, I was hoping to find you here."

"Oh, hello. I was just heading in for the night," Tailgate said, trying to hide his anxiety.

The seeker cocked a brow-ridge. "Already? It's so early."

"Well yes, but I... ah... I have things to get to." He tucked away the datapad and turned to go, but the seeker caught his arm as he passed. "Are you sure? I was hoping for some of your time tonight. We had so much fun before, you and your partner. And I've got more ideas for us this time." His dark grey hand reached up and stroked tenderly across Tailgate's faceplate, and Tailgate suddenly regretted not having closed his mask. "Such a pretty thing. So sweet and innocent-looking."

Tailgate stepped back. "I have to go. Sorry."

"No, wait. Let's go have a drink together. Where's your partner? Invite him along too."

Tailgate froze. A drink...? If he could get a cube of high-grade that would be enough to keep him going for four days. A couple more drinks would keep him in good shape for an orn. He would be safe just having a drink, wouldn't he? "I... I would like a drink."

The seeker smiled. "Come then."

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The blue and orange seeker waved to the waitress at the Old Kaon Tavern again. "Which one this time?" she asked, displaying her tray of colorful cubes. "Or would you like to order something special again?"

"Bring us another couple Phase Shifters," instructed the seeker, leaning back into the tavern booth.

"Sure thing," she said with a slight curtsy and walked back to the bar.

The seeker focused his attention on Tailgate. "So Tailgate... let's talk business. How about I take you somewhere and you and I have some fun."

Tailgate looked up at the seeker, his optics bright and hazy with charge. How many drinks had he downed? He'd lost track after the second cube of high-grade. His tank was full for once, and he was enjoying the pleasant warmth of a building overcharge. And the Phase Shifter cocktails were amazing. Was that really a thin slick of Pollon oil across the top of them? That had to make them expensive. "I'm not interested," he said. "You were... you were really rough with my partner and I. We're not built to take that kind of treatment."

The seeker looked off to the side with the grace to put on an ashamed expression. "I do get rather enthusiastic..."

"We were hurting afterward."

"I apologize for that. You didn't need any medical repairs, did you?"

"Not enough to warrant a trip to a doctor."

The seeker sighed with almost a dramatic flourish. "I'll be the first to admit that I'm not gentle when it comes to my desires." And then he leaned in again, placing a silvery credit chip on the table in front of Tailgate.

Tailgate stared at the little thing. He'd only twice before seen a ten-thousand credit chip.

Take that to the bartender and have him verify it."

"It looks real."

"Do it," insisted the blue seeker with a smirk. "I trust you."

Tailgate hesitantly picked up the chip and took it to the bar, where the keeper looked at him with some surprise on being asked to verify it. "Your lucky night?" he asked the minibot with a smile.

"It's not mine," Tailgate answered.

In a moment the verification came in. "It's good. Issued by the Decepticon paymaster himself. Your friend there's living well. Want me to break it?"

Tailgate just shook his head.

The bartender handed it back with an expression of slight confusion, and Tailgate returned to the booth, setting the chip back down in front of the seeker. "It's valid."

"Valid, and yours for your time tonight."

"Ten thousand credits!?"

"It does involve me being rough with you though. I will let you know that in advance."

Tailgate continued to stare at the chip. Ten thousand was what the seeker had paid the last time for both he and Swerve. With frantic speed he tried to tap into his memory to see what exactly had been so bad previously.

The blue and orange seeker leaned forward onto the table, smiling wickedly at Tailgate. "Would ten-thousand credits be worth a few dents and a few burned out sensors? And here..." He placed two thousand-credit chips down as well. "That should get you cleaned up nicely afterward."

Tailgate's fingers twitched beneath the tabletop. That money would pay off Swerve and he'd have enough for this month's rent. He could start with a clean slate once again.

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"Understood" continues in Chapter 31

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