Autobots: The Lost and the Forgotten

[Mirage]

Timing-wise this thread occurs the day after Late-Night Cards. This does not happen directly after the Kup Talks to Not-Xaaron thread. Semi-private thread; please ask before joining.

Mirage sighs heavily as he searches for Swerve. He really doesn't mind the constable's company, but this Swerve can be so tiresome, what with his constant fretting over his Emirate. And why exactly must Kup constantly send Mirage to check on Swerve when Swerve gets wound up? That last time, the day after the party, Swerve had given Mirage an earful. It was...oddly refreshing, actually, after all the restraint. On the plus side, at least now Mirage knew Swerve's favorite thinking spot.

And that spot was an abandoned vehicle lot on the far edge of town. And there was the former red racer in the middle of it.

Since being circumspect didn't help last time, Mirage doesn't bother with it this time. He just moves to lounge on the hood of a vehicle in front of Swerve, waiting for the inevitable taking of offense.

[Swerve-3]

Swerve would have grounds to take offence only if he had any real expectation of privacy. Considering his status among these Autobots, he'd be deluding himself to expect anything of the sort. Though, yes, he's inordinately annoyed that it's once again Mirage sent after him. This Mirage isn't entirely intolerable, but blast it all, isn't there anyone else Kup can ask to shadow the constable? Really.

"Hello again, Mirage," he murmurs, not quite looking at his erstwhile company. He doesn't sound thrilled to see Mirage – he isn't – but he can at least sound sociable. Something his counterpart has notably not mastered.

[Mirage]

"Good day, Swerve."

Mirage props up one knee and clasps his hand around it. He waits a few moments before asking. "What happened this time, Swerve? You only come out here when you're upset, and he always sends me after you for some Primus-forsaken reason."

[Swerve-3]

"Nothing in particular," Swerve answers honestly. Should something have happened? "I'm sorry if I've troubled anyone by leaving, but I thought I'd just take some time for myself while Emirate Xaaron rests." The fact that he could just walk out as he did is a significant development in and of itself; not so much trust, he supposes, but a welcome relaxing of security all the same.

Not to say he isn't upset. It's a mash-up of several things, really… worry over what may happen should the Autobots arrive, what may become of himself and Emirate Xaaron whether they do or don't, whether he'll ever stop second-guessing if he should look over his shoulder.

He manages not to say "Primus-forsaken, indeed". But he's starting to think it.

[Mirage]

"Personally, Swerve, I think you're more than capable of going out and about without a sitter. Your Emirate I would not afford the same courtesy, however." Mirage hold up his hand to stem the inevitable tide of dissent, whether it comes or not. He's just used to any negative comment about that other Xaaron being met with resistance. If it doesn't come, Mirage will be shocked enough that it shows. "He cannot protect himself, and is a liability to those he hides behind. Disagree you likely will, but so be it."

Mirage shifts position a bit, muttering, "What you see in him, I do not know. But at least he seems to care about you as more than just a tool."

[Swerve-3]

OOC: Failed to mention before that Swerve-3 is supposed to be in vehicle mode. Mirage's player has agreed to simply assume this fact for prior posts. Sorry for the trouble.

---

Ah, and here it is again – rounding on the topic of Emirate Xaaron, once more and with feeling. This dogged persistence reminds Swerve all too well of the Prime's faithful hound and that thought earns a guarded, chill flicker of his headlamps, the closest he can get to a sidelong glance in this mode. At least this Mirage pursues a subject with words rather than a rifle. In truth, he's a decent enough person. Different from what Swerve has come to expect of that name, loftier and less coarse, but decent. But that doesn't mean the constable wants to be tailgating day in and day out with him. Surely Mirage has better things to do than spend so much time in the company of someone he so clearly finds tiresome.

"I'm well aware that Emirate Xaaron needs protection," Swerve states in a suddenly flat tone that probably sounds more like thanks for that news flash, Buzzsaw; got any more riveting headlines for me today? After all, Swerve has only been trying – with mixed results – to protect his leader for some time. "But thank you all the same for the reminder." Now he transforms, clambering to his feet and crossing his arms, a defensive gesture he rarely makes.

How to explain just what he "sees" in Emirate Xaaron? Can he explain it? He's never even managed to tell the mech himself, who has never, as far as Swerve's concerned, treated him like a tool. There've been suspicions, expectations of ulterior motives, and doubts of loyalty, certainly… but never has the constable once felt he was seen as a tool.

"I'm sorry," Swerve says instead with genuine regret and pity, "that you'd assume something like that of him."

[Mirage]

Mirage looks puzzled, "Sorry that I'd assume he thought you a tool or that I assume he does not?"

There have been other watching Swerve from time to time. After all, if Mirage had been truly shackled to the constable... let us say that he would be unhappy and leave it to that. Most consider him a snob even when Mirage tries to be pleasant. Mirage in a tiff would be quite insufferable.

"But all that is neither here nor there. We all have things we'd die for, for our own reasons. I..."

Mirage breaks off as he looks back toward base. Perhaps he won't be stuck with Swerve that long after all.

[Mirage-3]

Kup walks up to the pair, a faint look of worry on his face. He notes the tension between the two with a slight narrowing of his optics.

"You know, if you two aren't getting along, I can assign someone else to the duty. But that kinda requires that you actually tell me you aren't getting along."

Kup pinches the bridge of his nose, "But that's not why I'm here. Mirage, thanks for looking out for him, but I'll take over. I need to talk to Swerve." He looks pointedly at Swerve, "I just got some intel back from one of the patrols."

No, Kup doesn't elaborate. Swerve's a smart one, and if he can't figure out the significance of that comment, Kup will be surprised.

[Swerve-3]

If Mirage has to ask a question like that, Swerve might just be wasting his time trying to explain it. Just what, exactly, does Mirage think of Emirate Xaaron, anyway?

Before Swerve can ask him, though, the spy cuts himself off and turns. The constable follows suit, tensing, ready to move just in case. Old habit, one he's never quite been able to nor really seen fit to break. Reflexes can save him where thinking things out would get him killed. Not to say Kup would get him killed. This one, he hopes, definitely not; the one he's more familiar with, he isn't so sure about.

"Sir," he greets Kup even while deciding how to address the point of his and Mirage's cooperation. It isn't really that he can't get along with Mirage, but he can only take so much of the stuffy mech in so many days. He's about to say as much when the security chief levels a significant stare on him and mentions intel. Intel from one of the patrols? What intel could they possibly have that would pertain to Swerve? He isn't even from this–

Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no. It suddenly feels like icewater running in his fuel lines and Swerve can't exactly blanch in fear, but his blank, caught-in-the-headlamps expression will have to do.

[Mirage]

"There are worse people to be tied to than him, Kup," Mirage answers, slipping off the car he'd perched on to stand, "I think we've just worn on each other a bit."

Swerve thinks Mirage is stuffy, and Mirage thinks Swerve is staid. There's a sitcom in there somewhere, if we can just get the syndication rights.

Mirage frowns as Kup continues. He's smart enough to make the connection, but also to not comment on doing so. He gives Swerve a concerned look, then nods, addressing Kup "Certainly. If you need me ..."

The rest goes unspoken as Mirage takes his leave.

---

Out of thread.

[Mirage-3]

Kup nods at Mirage, "Understandable. I'll see about varying the watch a bit more, at least. And yeah, If I need you, I'll call."

Kup watches Mirage until the other mech is out of sight, then turns back to Swerve. "It might be nothing, it might be a new arrival who hasn't felt comfortable coming in for some reason. Or," Kup's frown deepens, "what we've been worrying about's become a reality."

He sighs and shakes his head, "And the way our luck's going, I'd bet on the latter. You up to this right now, lad?"

[Swerve-3]

"I…" Swerve starts, then stops, hardly noticing Mirage's departure. He almost hates that he even has to consider Kup's question. "Yes," he finally answers, forcing the quaver out of his voice. Even if he wasn't, he'd say he was anyway. Freezing up with worry won't help anyone.

If it's an Autobot arrival, why would they steer clear of these Autobots? He can't think of any reason one of their own would give them a wide berth. He might not have when he and Emirate Xaaron arrived if he'd known more about them at the time. But if it isn't one of these Autobots… which one could it be? Or could it be a Decepticon? Blast, it's all too vague.

"So… what's this intel, sir?" he wonders. Maybe he isn't the only one shaken by this development; even Kup, who's seemed so inflappable to this point, seems uneasy. Awkward. This only unsettles Swerve more.

[Mirage-3]

Kup paces back and forth as he talks, "Arcee's group reported spying someone who looked like Mirage hightailing it out of that tourist city near the beach arrival point."

"Now, it could just be another Mirage. If the type holds, he wouldn't want to approach till he had the lay of the land. But we can't take chances." Kup stops just behind and to one side of Swerve and clasps a hand on the constable's shoulder, "That's why I won't be having Mirage guard you for awhile. The best way to catch a spy is with a spy, after all."

There's a subtle shift in Kup's tone as he continues, "It really is uncanny, the resemblances between realities." Swerve might feel the subtle warping as a syringe drops into Kup's hand, mere seconds before the needle is plunged into Swerve's neck, delivering a paralyzing agent directly into the primary line.

The appearance doesn't change, but it is most decidedly not Kup's voice that purrs, "Found you, constable. Use your radio and I'll make sure he lives a long life in Perceptor's tender care." 'Kup' then moves to disable said radio, none too carefully, but very, very quickly.

[Swerve-3]

Someone who looks like Mirage… while a more reasonable part of Swerve wants to agree that it might just be "another" Mirage, fear is a strong thing. Not fear for himself, but for Emirate Xaaron and for these Autobots, who've been so good to their erstwhile guests. If that isn't "some other" Mirage, but the Mirage he knows as Prime's hound, then they have come here after all. And, really, the constable and his commander are the ones to blame for leading them.

"I agree," Swerve murmurs, sounding calmer than he feels, "if it's the Mirage I know…." He shakes his head slightly, silently grateful for that steadying hand on his shoulder. He'd been growing used to this place, relaxing some small bit during his stay. Not to the point of being entirely comfortable, but no longer so skittish; that he accepts the contact from someone wearing a face he never wants this close to his own is telling in and of itself.

That little slip in his guard was a mistake and he only realises it after that cryptic statement finishes running through his processors and he feels that sharp pain in his neck. Someone who looks like Mirage… at the beach… hardly a day's drive away.

Swerve recoils, swinging one arm tonfa-first to knock away his attacker and staggering wide with the movement. His limbs feel too heavy; his stabilisers are wavering; his whole body is starting to go dead. His racing fuel pump is his undoing, pushing the additive through his systems too fast, knocking out motor relays before he can react, draw his weapon, cry out… anything. He can barely fix a look of outraged horror on this false Kup before his legs won't support him any more and he topples backward atop one of the vehicles. He limply slides off, ending in a crumpled pile on one side, one arm pinned beneath him at a painful angle. He can't get his vocorder to work; he can't even lift his head to look at the false Kup when that voice, constable drawled out as only one mech has ever pronounced it, crawls over his receptors. He manages to open his channel to Emirate Xaaron before his attacker can finish his warning, then he stops. For a second, maybe two, Swerve's processors race, trying to weigh his options. He could radio anyway, and the Autobots would be alerted and prepared, leaving Emirate Xaaron well-protected. On the other hand… he managed to fool his own counterpart. What if he can fool the others? He only needs to get close enough for the rifle.

Reluctantly, optics speaking of the fear and shame his slack expression can't convey, and the furious accusations he can't speak, Swerve compliantly shuts off his radio. Shame only burns brighter as Kup, crouching beside him, pats him on the head with mocking fondness before grabbing his right shoulder without the slightest pretense of care. Despite how much it hurts, there's no grimace of pain on his face and he makes no sounds but choked sputters of his cooling fans while Kup tears into his shoulder, prying at his radio, and in a perverse way, he's grateful for that.

---

OOC: Posing of Kup done with player permission.

[Mirage-3]

He makes swift work of disabling Swerve's radio. The threat had a high probability of working, but there is still the chance that it wouldn't. He needs to be gone from there as quickly as possible.

After all, he's only got a couple of minutes left before his holo times out.

He takes the time, though, to carefully subspace the bits and pieces torn from Swerve's now-useless radio. He hefts Swerve over his shoulder, "How very convenient that your favorite spot is so far from the base proper, and paved. Let's see just how good those watered down version of myself and Nightbeat are at tracking."

He pats Swerve's back. "The Prime lamented your loss. He should be most happy to have you back constable." He's talking and moving, the disguise already slipped away. Cycle to cloak, and Kup-who-was-not-Kup and his captive are gone.

---

"Kup" and Swerve-3 are moving out of thread and will be long gone shortly. Swerve-3 can post a reaction post if he wants. All abuse of Swerve-3 and the impersonation of Kup done with player and mod permission.