Ep 1 Cops and Robbers (Closed)

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“All tanks should be empty, yes,” said Maximus. It had been roughly fifty years since they had seen use; they would have been emptied when the site was decommissioned. If the military hadn't seen to that, the environmental agencies would have.

The next question from the minibot made him pause.

The big mech came to a halt in the middle of the tunnel. He stood in silence for a moment with his back to Zoom–Zoom.

He did not turn around when he spoke. “During the war. I was forged after the war began. Didn't go straight into my function as a soldier right away though, at least not on the frontlines. Did a stint as a military engineer – architect – first. That’s why I’m familiar with this sort of thing.”

Maximus was quiet for another moment, then glanced back at the minibot. He frowned. “You? I presume you’ve done this sort of thing since starting out in spec ops.”

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"Figured as much," the minibot thought it highly unlikely that anything would be left inside the tank but double-checking never hurt. Of course, Zoom-Zoom would test out this information for himself when he got down there.

He listened with half an audial to Fort Max's answer. Yeah, the big mech definitely had the look of a war build. Forged only for war, huh. The minibot wasn't particularly interested in the answer not did he form any opinion on Maximus from it, training, his own survival instincts and plain curiosity however made him idly collect whatever info he could about the people around him. Never know when it could come in handy one day. It was a sucky thing to do to his own allies but Zoom-Zoom didn't really care. At the end of the day, his survival tended to be his top priority.

"Me?" Zoom-Zoom shrugged. His own personal history wasn't something he regarded with any sort of secracy, aside from the classified missions he took under Spec Ops. But his life before that, he never saw any reason to hide to conceal or connoct a fabricated history, it was lousy, it sucked, it was his and it really couldn't be used against him. Unless people chose to look down on him because of it but they were always already doing that anyway, so it didn't make much of a difference.

"Nah, long before that. Spec Ops training just refined something I'd been doing most of my life anyway. Was sparked a data analyst for a mega corporation. Long story short, got kicked from my job, wound up living on the streets as gutter trash and learnt to watch my back really, really well if I wanted to stay alive. Something about being small," his tone gained a pointed and bitter edge. "Everyone just loves to pick on an easy target."

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It was not difficult to detect the resentment in the minibot’s tone. Maximus ignored it. He had been singled out often enough for his own imposing size–class by smaller bots who wanted to prove something by picking a fight with him to know better than to walk into an unsprung trap.

Instead, he focused on something else the minibot had said.

“Kicked from your job?” said Maximus. He raised one brow. “This was before the war? How did that happen? I thought the Functionists were dead set on people fulfilling their purpose, as dictated by their alternate mode. Or however the rhetoric went.”

He shrugged one shoulder. Functionism had been long before his time. It had meant something to Pious once, something urgent and important. But it meant little to him. As fas as Maximus was concerned he had only been forged to deal with its aftermath.

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Zoom-Zoom laced his servos together, examining them with a nonchalant air. "They also really hate it when you decide to move beyond your designated skillset and engage in some hacking in your spare time because you were extremely bored. They especially hate it when that hacking messes up the business of a Very Important Person. The entire branch had to close down because of it. That was a lot of business lost," the minibot seemed oddly satisfied with this outcome.

He'd really hated his job. He hadn't set out to deliberately sabotage it but the minibot couldn't deny that he was very pleased with the end result.

"Ain't no way I was keeping a job after that or finding a new one. The streets were the only place I could go," Zoom-Zoom shrugged. "I didn't really want to wait for the fallout of well, everything to catch up with me so I was gone the moment I had a chance." He tapped his helm. "Learnt really, really fast. Gotta processor meant for crunching petabytes of data, pretty useful for picking up the skills I needed on the fly."

Zoom-Zoom gave an amused snort as something occured to him, which was voiced before he could think twice about it. "Did come very close to signing on with the Cons when Megatron was starting out. So you were almost right in your think-wait, did I just say that? Please ignore what I just said. I was young and stupid and tempted but ultimately didn't. The whole extreme violence to achieve goals wasn't really my thing."

Nervously, Zoom-Zoom backed up. Yeah, that was the one sour note of his past that he normally didn't talk about. Some mecha understood, they remembered what life was like before the war and when Megatron had sounded like a good thing. Somehow the minbot had the feeling that an Autobot warbuild wasn't going to be so understanding about it.

Now just how far back was it to the small passageway that Sir Stomp-A-Lot couldn't fit down...?

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Maximus’ optics had thinned when the minibot had explained the incident which had resulted in his ejection. He wondered how many other bots had lost pay or employment for the sake of Zoom–Zoom’s boredom. When business was lost in one sector, the money lost had to be made up for in others. Typically it was the lower level workers that took the brunt of it.

However, it was the minibot’s following remark that made him scowl.

“Oh, really?” said Maximus.

Two long–legged strides closed the distance between him and Zoom–Zoom in an instant. Shadowed by the electric light overhead, Maximus towered over him, his red optics glowing.

“Almost joined the Decepticons, did you?” he said. “Please, elaborate. Why consider joining the ’Cons? Was it because Megatron’s manifesto appealed to your unprivileged status as a street–dwelling Empty, despite the fact that it was the consequences of your own actions that put you there in the first place? Or were you simply young and stupid and bored, and your superior processor craved stimulation?”

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Oh, Sir Stomp A Lot was doing the looming. And the glowering and the 'explain your questionable life choices' with a helping of sarcasm and/or possible violence if the answer wasn't the right one. Zoom-Zoom's optics roved down the empty passageway, searching for something to use in case things took a messy turn. Red had cameras down here right? Surely if the situation broken down, at least he'd have proof that he wasn't at fault. Ish. At least they'd know where to start looking to find his body...

Zoom-Zoom would have backed up but Fort Max had this thing where his legs were really, really long and allowed him to cover ground pretty damn fast. The minibot had a feeling the big mech would simply push foward if he gave ground, so there was no point in moving back at all. Nor was he able to run back to the other passageway. So, standing his ground it was.

"Hey," he scowled, glaring up at Sir Stomp A Lot. "Actually, it was the bit about self-determination that I listened to. I didn't chose my function nor did I want it. It wasn't living, it was being used." The minibot could remember those cycles clearly. Every bit of his processor being put to work in ways he didn't want it to. Overclocking it to analyse data he couldn't care less about. Over and over again, never ending. "My life freaking sucked as an Empty and I hated it and then there were times I really, really hated it but you know what? It was mine and that was what was important to me. My lousy decisions may have put me there but weirdly enough, I've never regretted then. When I look back- People used to talk all the time about re-building Cybertron, bringing back places like the Iacon Hall of Records or the crystal fields of Praxus. Me, this whole war, I've missed living amongst the trash. I've never missed the part of my life that came before that."

Zoom-Zoom shrugged. In its own way, there had been a certain freedom in being an Empty. He'd learnt quickly on the streets that his most valuable possesion was his life. The only material concern he had was energon and other basic amenities. The minibot's priorities had only been himself. Nothing more, nothing less. No responsibilities to anyone around him. No answering to other people or toiling away for somebody else's gain. Just him. No one else. Exactly how he preferred his life until he gained his cohort. And after losing misplacing them, Zoom-Zoom desperately wanted to go back in time and ensure that he'd kept himself free of personal connections. Caring about other people had been all well and good when they were there but he didn't like the whole crushing sense of loneliness he'd previously been ignorant about. That, Zoom-Zoom could do without and would really just rather to have never known his cohort at all.

"So yeah, in between scrapping by and trying to keep myself fuelled to survive until the next cycle, in my copious amounts of spare time, I attended some Decepticon rallies for fun. Or rather, hey, there were these large gatherings of people with their attention conveniently fixated on listening to some mech talk. I went along to see if I could steal some energon. And while I was there, the stuff I overheard about the caste system, that's what I paid attention to. The caste system was messed up and broken and it stuck me in that awful job I never wanted."

He paused then added in afterthought, "When I did have free time and was bored and my superior processor craved stimulation, that's when I went round and defaced public property with other young, stupid and equally bored mecha. Most of them, by the way, did go on to become Decepticons. And while we weren't friends, more acquaintances, I can still remember that there was the general expectation that we'd all join up. But I didn't."

Zoom-Zoom frowned up at the tankformer. Hopefully, he wasn't going to get pounded into scrap for all the talk but he'd been asked and Zoom-Zoom was never one to not talk about something. "All I ever wanted was the right to go my own path. And for the most part, I have, even if those choices didn't give me the easiest life, they gave me one that's mine. I chose not to sign up with the Cons even though everyone I knew did. My choice to join the Autobots too. Maybe you can't understand that, as a forged warbuild. Or maybe you do, you didn't go into your function straightaway, after all," Zoom-Zoom's tone went thoughtful. "What? Saw something about the future someone else determined for you that you didn't want? Or something that you wanted but wasn't meant to be yours?"

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Maximus remained stiff and silent. That was not a subject he had any desire to talk about, least of all with this particular bot.

He sceptically eyed the minibot. It had been a rather lengthy speech, and he did not know how much of it to believe. Zoom-Zoom's mouth ran off often; he struck the warden as the sort who would say a lot of things if he thought it would sidle him out of a physical confrontation. It was hard to take much of what he said all that seriously. Or trust in its sincerity.

But the minibot did not strike him as feigning candor now, nor did his manner seem devious. Maximus relaxed by degrees and reluctantly eased back a step. Pressure hissed from his wrists as he forced his fists open.

"No comment," he said. "So. Backing up a bit. Why join the Autobots at all in the end? Let's say, as a forged warbuild, I don't understand the concept of choice in the matter."

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Oooh. Yay. Space between Sir Stomp A Lot and Zoom-Zoom. And the not looming, that was better. And the uh. Not having angry fists. Yeah, Zoom-Zoom preferred it when Sir Stomp A Lot didn't have his fists all clenched up and ready to pulverize the heads of minibots. Not that it wouldn't take Fort Max an astrosecond to change this but Zoom-Zoom would rather not have most visual reminders of just how overwhelmingly powerful the tankformer was compared to the minbot.

Zoom-Zoom snorted and took one step back, testing to see how whether Fort Max was going to allow the space between them to grow or if the he'd just close the distance again. "Oh that was simple," he said. "Empty, remember? Only one thing I particularly cared about back then and the Autobots were a lot more generous with their energon than the Decepticons." Zoom-Zoom frowned to himself, vibrant memories playing out inside his processor. His mind started to descend down them, almost taking his whole attention with them. With effort, Zoom-Zoom shook his head and focused on the big mech in front of him. He couldn't think of a worse moment to get stuck inside his mind.

"They were also less...kill everything that gets in our way," he added, with a distracted air. "The whole extreme murdery willingness to achieve their goals was kinda off-putting." Though that had come later, but Zoom-Zoom had delayed joining a faction long enough for the Decepticon cause to start showing its true colors.

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Though he still looked sceptical, Maximus did not move to close the space between them again. His optics narrowed.

"Yes, I can see how a penchant for genocidal tactics might make someone think twice about joining the Decepticons," he said testily. "Whereas the Autobots offered free room and board, let's all hook up with them."

He eyed the minibot. Zoom-Zoom appeared distracted, which was not an expression that Maximus was accustomed to associating with him. As obnoxious as he was, Zoom-Zoom usually came across as a lot more alert and wary. Which Maximus thought was a wholly appropriate state of being for any moment the two of them drifted within speaking distance.

He frowned. "The Cons killed people you knew. Your aforementioned former team."

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Since Sir Stomp A Lot hasn't reacted, Zoom-Zoom took another step back. "What can I say, I'm a simple mech with very simple needs," Zoom-Zoom said with a shrug. "Like two needs total, fuel and my spark. Anything more is an unexpected bonus."

The Autobots also provided better training for their troops. Zoom-Zoom hadn't had any military experience and he'd figured his chances of survival were better with the people who'd actually bother training him up right and give him better equipment. The plan though hadn't been to stay long with the Autobots, get the skills he needed to survive on his own then get out.

It...hadn't turned out the way he planned, in the end.

What Fortress Maximus said next blindsided the minibot.

"The Cons killed people you knew. Your aforementioned former team."

Zoom-Zoom held rigorous control over his thoughts when it came to his cohort. For the most part, he just completely avoided thinking about them. The thing was, however, that this control had been mastered in the many, many years during the Exodus. In solitude. So while he was very good at preventing and quelling any stray thoughts arising internally, the minibot was completely defenceless when it came to being confronted about them from an external source. There had never been anyone else around who'd known about his cohort and thought to ask.

So Fortress Maximus's question ripped straight through the minibot's thick walls of denial. Zoom-Zoom flinched as though struck, a wounded sound escaping from his vocaliser. His processor slipped and all attempts to not get stuck inside his own head failed as he took a trip down memory lane-

-Topshot, lying on blue rock, chassis caved in from the Seeker bombing run-

-Patchwork, taken out by a sniper, shouldn't have been up on that ridge, should have been Topshot, doing his job but-

-Switch had died from two shots through his head, caught whilst setting charges to blow a Decepticon base-

-Slate, captured by the Decepticons, couldn't risk staging a risk attempt so they'd blown him up along with the outpost-

-they got the news, later, that Merge had been picked up after that disastrous mission to Odessix. Executed in a Con prison, they'd never recovered a body-

-the cohort had rescued Piledriver, had pulled him from a torture chamber but he bled out right in Zoom-Zoom's arms as they escaped-

-Burnout, finished a mission, but his shuttle was shot down and crashed, no survivors-

-Livewire, Datajack, Flashpoint-

There were more names and faces and deaths than Zoom-Zoom wanted to think about or remember as he tried to drag himself away from the maelstrom in his head. The minibot wanted to draw himself up and coolly reply to Fort Max's statement with, "The Cons killed a lot of people." Like he wasn't affected, like he hadn’t cared about any of the dead. What came out instead weakly was-

"They're not dead."

But a lot of them had died.

"They're missing," he insisted, tone distressed. The minibot's gaze was blank and vacant and he balled his fists. "They're missing," the minibot repeated as if to convince himself. "Just missing. I'll find them."

Eventually.

Even if he had to scour every inch of the galaxy, he would.

With that, he turned on his heel. Like that confrontation with Red Alert, the minibot was electing to use the 'I'm-leaving-now-because-my-emotions-are-a-confused-jumble-of-sad-and-anger-and-I-won't-be-responsible-for-my-actions-if-I-stay' tactic.

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Maximus narrowed his optics.

It took little effort to see that Zoom-Zoom had been disturbed by his blunt remark. Good. Maximus had intended it to hammer home and provoke a response. He had said it out of a mixture of curiosity and cold enmity, and partly because he still wondered at times if Zoom-Zoom's former team had once really existed, or if they were simply part of a constructed ruse. And Primus knew that the minibot had irked him often enough with a cutting jab or two.

But he had to admit that he had not been expecting the response to be as emotional as this. Though the minibot did not show his distress overtly, it was plain to be sensed in his distant manner and closed fists. If it was genuine, then it was not as if Zoom-Zoom didn't have anything to be distraught over. All too often missing friends were as good as dead. It sounded as if the minibot was trying to convince himself that this harsh reality was not true in the case of his former team.

Resentment flickered through him. Missing was at least better than confirmed dead. Missing was better than a total massacre.

Maximus vented a sigh and grudgingly backed off another step or two. This was one of those times he hated, an uncomfortable moment when space was needed. He was glad to give it. He never knew what to say.

"I'm sure you will," he said. He awkwardly turned back to the corridor. "Maybe Red Alert can help you. He's good at finding people. Not much I can do but... I hope you find out something."

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As an infiltrator and from his long time spent as gutter trash, Zoom-Zoom was not prone to expressing his anger and frustration through physical violence. It went against his every instinct to draw attention to himself and nothing got you noticed like punching a wall in a fit of rage. But thoughts of his cohort when he wasn't prepared for it, when he hadn't framed his mind properly to deal with the many, many emotions they evoked in him pushed him to the point where it'd take little for his anger to bleed into uncontrolled action.

And if there was one mech Zoom-Zoom really didn't want to take out his confused jumble of grief and frustration on, it was Fortress Maximus. The minibot could barely steer a conversation right with Sir Stomp A Lot even when he was in the right frame of mind. So away it was, before he said or did something to Fort Max that he'd probably regret.

If Zoom-Zoom heard Fortress Maximus's words, he gave no sign of it. Instead, he stalked away quietly and quickly, disappearing down the hallway and deeper into the base with his doors drawn high up on his back in tension. The minibot had no direction in mind, all thoughts of late night training exercises or exploring the lower levels gone from his processor. All Zoom-Zoom wanted was to get away, though from what and whether it was possible was entirely debatable. His emotions, Fortress Maximus, the uncomfortable truth of his reality or perhaps all three.

It did not matter. Running away and pretending his problems did not exist was what Zoom-Zoom did best.