[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Now K.I.S.S.

[Starkrieger]

Episode 3| Week 3| Day 7 - mid day

Location: Pipette's lab (off shoot of Shockwave's lab)

---

A slight change of plans had been in order.

Down the dreary tunnels of dark ridge, splashes of glowing color might be distinguished from the harsh, utilitarian lights that lined their current base. The red that was oh so common in Decepticon optics, and a paler blue, a small cube of energon. It wasn’t really the proper grade for the rations of the mech that carried it. But, the dispenser didn't seem to be coded to be worried about someone taking less (either in quantity or quality) than what they were due.

The black and white Seeker was hardly concerned, as he confidently clomped through the halls, as it wasn’t intended for him…. Well, perhaps he was a little concerned, the intentional clicking of a sturdy heel used to give him a sound to focus on, to ignore the tight, underground space he was cursed to occupy.

It would get better soon.

Many would have been afraid to go anywhere near the place he intended, but as far as the Seeker knew, the source of that terror was currently away. Besides, he wasn’t one to worry about such things. So long as he didn’t do anything wrong, said source could go frag themselves.

Rolling his right shoulder, the discomfort there reminded him of exactly why his plans had to be altered. While fixed, the injury from the prior night’s encounter with a brightly colored pitspawn of a femme was still lodging complaints in his processor. Well, it was no matter. Thanks to Second Rate (and his expert medical techniques), he was fine, suffering only from being a sparkling over it.

“Little Rivet”, he might have purred, if not for the playful tease, as Starkrieger called out. Just as he passed the entrance into her lab (which had taken a bit of plying from a Vehicon to get proper directions to), the single cube was held out, balanced on the flat undersides of his splayed claws. “Time for a break?” He didn’t venture far into the lab interior, wary of the possibility that he might cause some disruption, or harm her equipment. Though his mastery of the space around him was impeccable, the delicacy of scientific and mechanical objects made him less sure. It would too costly for him to risk this being a rare occasion in which he accidentally knocked into something.

[Pipette]

Starkrieger need not have worried about knocking equipment over when Pipette was more than capable of doing just fine on her own. The chemist and grace were only mentioned in the same sentence as antonyms.

On one bench were a stack of cardboard boxes, human sized, in the midst of unpacking. To the right was various pieces of packing cushions. On the far left was a tidy layout of fresh glass chemistry vessels, and in between neat glassware, and box was a dubious chemist with brush and pan cleaning up broken glassware. To the observant onlooker, there was a med-kit - open, and a small med-band encircling one of the chemist's delicate white fingers.

Said chemist turned to face the one who interrupted. Under her hood and mask and goggles, embarrassed annoyance turned to embarrassed delight. “Star-kun!”

Pipette turned to her mess, and back again to her seeker. The mess didnt require her immediate attention, the mech, tall, dark and dangerous very much did. “Your timing is fortuitous. Did you need much help finding me?” She teased.

Where the chemist was a klutz, the seeker often found himself lost. Perfection would have been boring. Protective hood, mask and goggles retracted from her porcelain face, revealing magenta optics shining with captivation. She strolled leisurely over to the attractive mech, took the proffered cube with one hand and replaced it with her other.

“Should I lead the way to wherever you are taking me?” She offered. Though she continued to tease, she was also earnest in her offer.

[Starkrieger]

His wings calmly dipped at the pet name, but it was her teasing that had his light smirk widening. Starkrieger wasn’t always comfortable with the subject of his deficiencies, but playful jesting between was something he saw as harmless. Besides, it wasn’t the first time they had shared in such a lighthearted exchange.

“More than I’d expected, if only because the Vehicons seem… reluctant to come this way.” The easy response was truthful enough, but its accuracy was hardly the point. “... What have you been doing to frighten them so?” He teased in kind, certain she was aware of the looming presence Shockwave had, at least from the perspective of the Decepticons at large.

As Pipette’s servo was placed on his own, his claws gently encircled it with a soft squeeze. It took no real effort for him to be mindful, the dangerous tips that would lodge into, and rend other fliers’ wings, barely brushing against her.

“Unfortunately my initial plans have had to be put on hold. Our dear Flatline was none too gentle with his administration's last night.” His vocals lacked accusation or complaint, just as he refrained from the use of "Second Rate". It was a term of the utmost affection, not to be used behind the mech’s back, to tear down his reputation or credibility.

“I have other options in mind. However…” As his voice trailed off, the focus of his optics shifted to the laboratory interior, and were soon followed by a sweeping gesture with his free servo. “It looks like I should be making a more considerate offer. Would you care for some help Pipchen?”

Time without causing harm to anything was already starting to put him a little at ease, and that much of her equipment seemed to be in the process of being unpacked, localized the majority of it to a few areas in the room. It allowed him to acclimate without being surrounded.

“Between the two of us, I’m sure we can have you settled in, in no time. “

[Pipette]

“Truly, I don't understand the vehicons. We only practice science here. They whimper like they were unwilling volunteers.” Pipette didn't understand their fear at all, because unlike nearly everyone else, she liked Shockwave, he was smart and logical and direct.

“And You should go easy on Flatline.” She chided. “I’m sure he tries his best given the state of..err…this cave system.” Their medic could barely repair himself with the resources available. And of course Pyrotech had made these hewn walls of rock habitable, but it was still cave dwelling.

Starkriger was a brave warrior, or so she imagined, and she expected him to wear his battle wounds with pride. Any skirmish with the Autobots in which one could walk away from was a victory. It was kill or die, he wasn't dead, ergo, he killed, thus victory.

For a happy little moment, she took a sip from the cube and just enjoyed further listening to her seeker. She considered the offered help, but just barely. Her answer was solid before even asked for. But the following comment about settling in confused her for a second.

“Settle in? No no no…that is just freshly acquired materials. Sized for humans so mostly inadequate. Anything broken will simply be recycled into more suitably scaled vessels. And though I appreciate the offer, I decline the help. I would like to salvage whatever dignity I can find in there on my own please.”

Pipette squeezed his hand a little and pushed it in the direction away from the laboratory. Digging through broken glass for misplaced dignity could take second place to any other activity with Starkrieger.

[Starkrieger]

“No doubt, but if I go too easy on him, he’ll think I don’t like him.” Chuckling softly, the Seeker was sure that Flatline would be further irritated by his philosophy. The medic had made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t interested in being ‘acceptable’ to anyone… but since when did fussy medics really know what they wanted? “Besides, he did draw first energon” It wasn’t a complaint, more of an amused observation. He’d let the medic off the hook, and not hit him with the full force of his one upmanship in the future, but that didn’t change the tone of their relationship. Only time could do that, and Flatline didn't seem the type to spare any.

A light smirk transitioned into an easy grin as Starkrieger followed her direction. In truth, he would have rather not gone back into the tight hallways (even if there was more than enough room for a mech many times his size). Still, he remained outwardly unphased, aside from the nearest wing angling towards his companion. Focusing on her might help distract processor from their surroundings.

“As you wish.” Setting off, he measured his pace, knowing that if he rushed, his longer stride would put her at a disadvantage. “... So, how is your progress deciding on parameters for the 'experiment'? "

There was little reason they shouldn’t use the journey to catch up. While his own time spent had been relatively tame (for a mech of his position and rank), he knew she had been quite industrious, and that wasn't taking into account her duties to further 'the cause'. Her 'extracurricular' ventures alone would keep anyone busy, between perfecting confections, and self brewed high-grade. That was two additional matters he should follow up with her on, but there was no rush.

“Are you going to share the specifics, or keep them to yourself to avoid compromising the data?“ There was a hint of mischief, as if this were some effort for them to out maneuver each other. He was aware that such concerns were valid among scientists, but wasn’t it more fun to suggest she was having to out strategize him, to prevent the results from artificially skewing in his favor? Her glitch-mouse was about to scale over the walls, if she didn't secure a top on the maze, or at least, that was what he was playing at.

[Pipette]

“Truly? I have made little headway quantifying the parameters, social peer bonding is even more complex than I had previously thought.” Pipette had dug and pried and partaken an unquantifiable mass of data over the past few days regarding social constructs of Cybertronian culture. She had decided that they were overly complex remnants of the past and were only marginally useful in directing her own future. What worked for her, would be as unique as she and Starkrieger were.

“Nonetheless, I shall share some specifics for the sake of efficiency. Since we are at war where our future is undeniably unknown, and given that our individual duties are akin to polar opposites, our time together might be brief. Therefore I intend to make the most of what fortunate circumstances allow.” Put simply, she wasn't going to waste time.

Sharing her plan, such that it was, would not compromise the data, instead it would simply provide a potentially different set of results. How Starkrieger would act with or without the knowledge was beyond her control and there would be no way to rerun the experiment to compare data. Pipette simply had to have faith that her Star-kun would play straight, and not live up to their faction name.

“To that end, I have decided that I shall interrogate you.” Her voice was that of the scientist, but her grin and optics held humor. “Simply, I would like to ascertain that we are compatible beyond reciprocal attraction.” Pip liked Krieg thus far, but did she like his moral compass or work ethic or taste in audio entertainment, she did yet know.

“And I shall, as able as I am, answer any question you may put to me.” She wanted to treat the seeker as an equal partner in their potential relationship. Keeping everything as simple as possible in the initial conditions should minimize any negative effects that may occur, she hoped.

Walking and holding hands, sipping energon and just simply existing next to the much taller flier, Pip was finding the sheer joy in the moment almost distraction enough to halt her thoughts. Almost.

"So dear Star-kun, where are you taking me?"

[Starkrieger]

A soft humm of amusement answered her observation on the ‘complexities of peer bonding’. However, he didn’t interrupt, waiting to hear what all she had to say, as they traversed the halls. That she continued to hold his servo had registered in his processor, which he wasn’t quite sure how to reconcile. For the Seeker, this act had far greater significance than more… physically involved exchanges. The simplicity of the gesture made it difficult to discount the inherent vulnerability and other... messy... soft emotions. In some way, it felt dishonest, not necessarily because of her, however...

The future was ever a source of pending disaster, while the past shackled the present with unjust burden. To separate 'now' from either was hardly easy; least of all when said burden came in the form of deeply laid scars. Though, if he was honest, many remained open wounds. Fortunately, the Seeker was adept at managing multiple things at once, and maintained his easy air with the situation at hand. His wings still aloft, unbothered, as if the pair wasn't in the midst of mecha that would likely use such signs of ‘weakness’ against them.

Perhaps he should remind her of the danger?

“That they are. Anticipating the ones that matter is nearly impossible…”

When they might begin… or when they are about to end.

Despite his inner thought, his vocals remained absently upbeat. There was no cause to subject her to what they all already were so familiar with. 

“When you think you understand their source, or project their destination, their path can wildly diverge, or be pushed forward with an unanticipated intensity.” He could think of at least one ‘social bonding’ experience aside from their ‘experiment’ which exemplified that exact scenario. In truth, no amount of mastery prepared one to know exactly with others. Certain rituals became tried and tested, but they weren't universal, and they were not guaranteed.

“Still, I have the utmost confidence that you’ll figure out the parameters.”

… No… he would not remind her of the dangers. They were insignificant enough, she, being a scientist, was unlikely to be used against a mere soldier. As for his own safety? It wasn't a real concern, besides it was far fetched that any would find the need to blackmail her. Those that dared would have high command, potentially even Megatron himself to contend with. As he understood it, scientists were both priceless and jealously guarded. He would be surprised if the warlord would tolerate them being diverted from his cause by another's exploitation.

“Well, I was debating, depending on your plans, and your disposition. A simple stroll to get fresh air, if you were tending to pressing matters, or back to where this all started to possibly start something a bit more… involved. Do you have a preference? I suspect our ‘interrogation’ can proceed either way.” The grin that spread across his faceplates at the word ‘interrogation’, could likely be heard in the lift to his tone. “Though the latter option may make data gathering a little more difficult. “

[Pipette]

“Well I presume the first parameter will be timescale. As long as we are both consenting and stationed here then, it seems logical.” It made sense, the experiment would stop when it was no longer mutually beneficial, or was otherwise unable to continue. Truthfully, she hadnt devoted much attention to contemplation of parameters, and part of her wanted to simply ignore all rules, and enjoy the simplicity of chaos unbound. No expectations, no boundaries, pure learning experience. Pipette was the master of her laboratory, a precise and finicky god. Just occasionally, like now, she wondered what it was like to be the subject being tested inside a container of her own choosing. And with the seeker named Starkrieger, she actually felt content to throw away those chains of safety she so rigorously applied in the lab and run towards the danger. Though her thoughts would not remain still, she diverted all spare awareness to her partner.

“If I correctly understand the implied innuendo in your tone, then the type of data collected may differ, but I would expect neither the quality nor quantity to suffer.” Though she still lacked experience, she was now armed with greater knowledge than when they first met.

“And since you offer the freedom of choice, I will indulge. I choose…where we started. What is mere fresh air compared to broadened experiences after all my Star-kun.” The grin on her face matched his own, the shine of her magenta optics radiated amusement.

The frown that then formed on that porcelain face was merely playful. “Since you failed to answer my first question with proper conviction, I shall pose another, equally gentle. Where lies your taste in music?”

[Starkrieger]

Music? Now there was a topic he didn’t often find others broaching, but then Starkrieger hadn’t partaken in relationships (or experiments regarding them) in this sense. His early function had been dominated by being mentored and training, as befitted a commissioned build of his model

“My experiences before the war were… classical, and historic or cultural pieces.” There was a pause, not uncomfortable per say, rather the Seeker became mildly guarded as he debated what more he would offer. “My mentor saw fit to supplement military training with , shall we say, politically favorable pastimes.” There was a hint of mischief in his tone, at what went unsaid, though this was mostly to keep things from dipping too far in the wrong direction. It didn’t feel right to completely exclude those from his past from being mentioned, but that didn’t mean he was ready to delve into deeper emotional attachments.

“I had a ‘friend’ that was determined to expand my horizons once we got out of basic, but… plans changed.” While he remained offhanded, and kept his wording vague, Starkriger couldn’t entirely bury what lay behind them. Subtle pauses were used to focus the delivery of carefully selected words, to those who were sensitive to such cues, it would be obvious there were matters he was avoiding . However, he was counting on it going unnoticed, and even if she picked up on it, despite the ambiguity of his words? Loss had long become the standard among Cybertronians, there was little reason to notice when it was so common. "I haven't yet explored what Earth has to offer." 

“And what of you, Pipchen?” He turned the question back around, in interest, but also as a diversionary tactic. The trek they were making through Blackridge remained easy, as he walked with her in the direction of that first training room, where she had found him. They had some distance to go yet, so there was no excuse not to indulge in whatever line of questioning she wanted to take. Dangerous though it could be to resolve himself to answering truthfully. "Were you one of those femmes that liked the 'senseless noise' that poured out of nightclubs?" He was teasing again, but only in his gentle, fond way. He had no reason or desire to drive away his little scientist.

[Pipette]

“Night club music!” Pipette genuinely chuckled. “That sounds more in-line with Sparkplug’s taste. She seems to enjoy…well…a ruckus, actually.” The one time she had met Sparkplug, the background music that had been playing was simply barely rhythmic noise to Pip’s audios.

“I believe you and I might share a common taste then.” Which felt wonderful to discover. “I've recently discovered I enjoy the ancient classical composers, like Mozartron, Switchbach, and Tricoughsea. I definitely prefer purely instrumental music. Vocals just don't work for me.” She shrugged at this admission, she knew she was largely abnormal in this regard. And she too had yet to explore Earth music, though she had already surmised that given the diversity of Terran culture, there would most likely exist music to suit her.

As basic as she was in social cues, Pipette was listening intently enough to her new partner that she picked up on deliberation in word choice and pace. She could recognise there were omissions and possible half truths. She accepted this. He barely knew her really, had yet to give her his full trust, and undoubtedly had points in his history yet to heal. The war was ongoing and the opportunities for genuflection were sparse. Beyond the vagueness, however, she had little clue to what she might be missing that a more astute individual might divine.

The chemist postponed her next question in favour of one more current to the spark-to-spark. “Have you been to a Nightclub?” Pip wasn't entirely certain she even knew what one was.

[Starkrieger]

While he might not have an opinion on it himself, Krieg had always found it interesting to note how others viewed different tastes. Pipette’s amusement earned an easy quirk of his derma. She was more polite, gentler in her dislike of what had been contemporary during their early functions. Sol had been far more… disgusted wasn’t the word, and certainly not what any of his constituents would have picked up. He was a measured mech in most regards, but that didn’t change what Starkrieger perceived. His mentor had loathed the genera. Who would think that such a common topic could provoke such wide and intense reactions?



“My experience with vocals is, admittedly, limited. I suspect they are the same in some ways as instrumental pieces. Different sounds, different cultural weights and values. As I understand it, the classical vocals… were uniquely powerful, moving in a way the modern arts weren’t.” He was content to leave it at that, not accustomed to talking about his past experiences before the war, certainly not in clarifying where his experiences differed from others. It was one thing to talk about his added combat training under Solarwind's mentorship... but the arts, the philosophy, the politics? Such things were prone to garner the wrong kind of attention from brawlers and ex-criminals.  


It was his turn to chuckle as she asked about nightclubs, edging towards fondness. Not every shadow of the past was unwelcome. Regarding his early function, he'd had plenty to be pleased with, though he would admit it was only by the grace of Primus. Had he been ill suited to the life his spark had thawed into, it would have been a far different story. 


“No. While in training we weren’t afforded much freedom for our downtime. Many of my compatriots found their way around the restrictions, but as a personal commission, I had added obligations.  It helped keep me out of trouble. '' Resentment might have been an expected response among their faction, to be reminded that his spark came with a price tag and robbed him of choice, but Starkrieger’s tone was light. He suspected his Pipchen to understand on some level. He was pleased by his model, and thrived in his purpose, and besides, those ‘missed opportunities’ hardly bothered him. Stolen moments while on duty had always seemed more genuine to Starkrieger than the orchestrated spectacle of sneaking off.



“What of you Pipchen? The only scientists I knew before the war were tied to the military, and I didn’t know them so much as being aware of their presence. How did you make use of your free time? “