randomplaces | AHN 'verse. Tatooine. Scavenger

"W... wait, you knew my creator?" Hot Shot winces as something Random's doing to his damaged internal components causes him to twitch, his movement making a soft scratching sound on the worn woven rug that he's laying on on the otherwise bare cave floor.

"I knew the mech who asked Primus for you," counters the massive sand-coloured stranger called Scavenger, not looking up from where he was using a torch to work a bend out of one of the younger mech's struts.

"Well, isn't that the same thing? Ow! Random, do you gotta poke there that many times?"

"No." Scavenger shakes his head and easily bends the metal in his hands back to shape. "Creators are the people who build your shell. Yours came off the assembly line."

"Way to make a guy feel unspecial," grumbles Hot Shot, but then notices that Kia is pouting at him for griping at Random and offers her a grin. "What was his name, Scavenger? What happened to him?"

"Optimus Prime. And he's dead. Nemesis Prime killed him a long long time ago." Scavenger offers the repaired strut to Random, his yellow optics calm but shadowed.

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Random looked very much like he wanted to bolt. It was all he could do to keep his hands steady. Hewasnotamedic,hewasnotamedic,hewasnotamedic.

Yes! That's the stinkin' place where it's stinkin' broken! Stop. Moving!

He twitches slightly when he notices the strut, but he takes it from Scavenger and puts it next to him until he's ready to put it back in.

"You need a hand with that, Random?" There's mockery in Scavenger's voice and expression.

"Hey!" Kia looks around from watching the repair session, her usually gentle expression transformed to an unhappy frown. "Be nice."

The old hermit looks at her with clear surprise, but then bows his head slightly. "I'm sorry, Kia. Random, I apologize."

Hot Shot is too busy screwing his face up with pain to comment on the exchange.

Random flinches again, thankfully when he wasn't elbow deep in Hot Shot's innards.

Outside, he is still twitchy. Inside, however, If you think you do this any better, THEN BY ALL MEANS COME OVER HERE AND DO IT!

Then Kia spoke. She was standing up for him. That was both reassuring while it also reminded him that he had only been doing the same for her a few days ago.

Random murmurs something in reply but is too busy getting back to trying not to kill Hot Shot to really do much more to acknowledge the apology.

"So... will you tell me about him?" Hot Shot looks up at Scavenger hopefully.

"He was very brave and very just. And he's now very dead." The old mech shrugs and turns to walk deeper into the cave, where he's greeted by a chorus of beeping and whistling.

"What?" Hot Shot's mouth falls open with surprise.

"Minicons!" says Kia, her optics wide.

"They're here too? . . . The universe is smaller than I thought," Random says, shaking his head.

"I thought they were all with the Imperial forces," says Hot Shot, trying to prop himself up on one elbow despite having his internals open for everyone to see.

"Uh uh," says Kia innocently. "We had some on the ship."

Random jumps, hastily pulling his hands out of Hot Shot's internals. "Don't. Move!" Sheesh, can't you see I'm having enough trouble without you moving?!?

"No, some tried to escape . . . With mixed results," Random explains, once Hot Shot is settled back on the tarp . . . rug . . . thing.

"Wow." The yellow mech is distracted from wanting to learn about his origins by wanting to learn about the little people. "Can they really do what the stories say they can do? Oof, Kia, I'm not going to move anymore."

"No," says the little femme from where she's now sitting firmly on his shoulder. "You aren't."

Then she offers Random a tool.

Random accepts the tool, giving her a little grateful smile before using it to begin finishing up the repairs.

"Yes, though many choose not to when they can help it."

Kia's answering smile is shy and sweet, and then she goes serious as she looks down at Hot Shot.

Hot Shot, for his part, is frowning at Random. "What do you mean?"

"They can pack quite a punch when they're linked up with a larger mech. Too much of one. And the Empire doesn't let them decide if--or how--they want to use their power or not."

Confusions shows in the young mechs blue optics. "But... aren't they just droids? I mean, that's what the vids say. That they were built to help the Imperial troopers in tough situations and that kind of thing."

Random pauses in his work to look at Hot Shot in the face with an optic ridge arched.

"Were those Imperial vids?" he asks dryly. "The half of those that aren't propaganda are downright lies."

AHN 'verse. Tatooine. Scavenger

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