Restless, weary drones and organics rustled in the darkness of the hold, many of them uncomfortable in the heat of the world they'd landed on a few hours earlier. Over in one corner of the stinking, sweltering space two pair of glowing optics shone. The ones that were further from the floor held fear, the lower set, large and pale blue, held only
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But did she realize that? That one word could mean their doom? There was no way that she could. She barely had enough programming to function, let alone to understand as complex as situation as this one!
She was hungry?
When was the last time he refueled? It felt like ages ago! They had to give her fuel when they brought her in. There was barely enough in her tank to keep her spark alive without burning itself out. If she was ( ... )
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Then she frowns slightly. "Random? That big sound we heard when the escape pod started spinning... is... is the ship gone?"
"Shut up!" A massive organic snarls at the little femme.
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The brute interrupts him before he can get himself to reply. When the brute does, he settles for a Look in the organic's direction.
"Yes, it's gone."
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"I said to shut...." The organic pauses, his expression going from anger to fearfulness as he registers a change in the movement of the carrier. Then he slips back into the darkest shadows. "We're stopping."
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That was it.
"I-I'm her mentor. She's got some basic repair programming right now"--how she got that knowledge he would never know--"give me time, and I'll be able to teach her how to fix things like I can. She'll be well worth the extra cost."
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The dwelling is all one room, and looks like a combination home and repair bay. There are bits and scraps and tools everywhere. Several posters of famous heroes dot the curving wall space.
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The room gets a better look at than the fight outside did. For obvious safety reasons. He notices the double-function of the room but doesn't comment on it. He also notices the posters and somewhat distractedly tries to see if he recognizes any of them.
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Hot Shot's gone over to a wide bench and is throwing things aside with blithe disregard for what they may be and where they're going. "Here, Random. This can be your berth. I'll see what we have for Kia."
Kia looks at the bench, and then leads her weary mentor over there.
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The noise coming from Hot Shot's clearing off of the table grabs Random's attention. A few items tossed get a thought of, He probably didn't want to do that, in his mind.
"Thanks."
It's as Kia's leading him over to the berth that he realizes what he's been doing and lets go of her shoulder, managing not to fall over as he walks the rest of the way there and sits down on it.
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Kia ignores them as she contemplates the flavor of the energy she's drinking. They're not here, so she doesn't need to pay attention to them.
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But Kia was here. He prevented her from being lost among all the others. That would be enough . . . for the moment.
He pulls himself out of his thoughts with drinking the remains of his energon.
He needs to recharge. Absorb everything that has happened since the last time he slept. Hopefully, it will be more clear once his processor has had enough time to organize it without more data being poured out in streams on top of it.
But he'll wait until Kia's done refueling . . .
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She wriggles a bit, amused by the strange sensation, then sobers. "Now I'm tired."
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"Excuse you."
Random chuckles at her comment, rubbing her arm. "Then we should both get some recharge then. . . . Hot Shot never did clear something off for you, did he . . . ?"
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