Work Text:
The planet the Lost Light had decided to dock at was cold, with a blanket of snow covering almost every inch of land. It was a barren and isolated place, far from the center of its own solar system. The single space-port located at the southernmost pole was sufficient, however, and the locals were friendly enough.
Small, mechanoid creatures scurried about the perimeter of the ship, carrying supplies and making minor repairs on the ship. They chittered amongst themselves, a language that none of the Cybertronians had ever heard before. They lived in a large settlement not too far away from the port. That didn’t matter, though, what mattered was that they had fuel that they could use and were mild-mannered enough to give them sanctuary.
Cyclonus stood at the outskirts of the settlement, the tingling cold from the snow seeping into his plating. It wasn’t pile enough to bother his stride, but some of the aliens were having some noticeable problems walking through the thick snow. They compensated by using over large pede-warmers in order to walk on top of the snow. Cyclonus had never seen anything like it, but it seemed to work well for them.
Some of the crew of the ship were off scurrying about in the snow, as part of an impromptu day of leave, courtesy of Rodimus. Most of them had never seen the substance before and were happily rolling around in it, acting more like sparklings than grown mechs. Cyclonus stood at the edges of the festivities, simply observing.
The cold was starting to bite through his plating. He wondered how the natives survived this year round. He did notice, though, that most of them walked around with heavy organic materials wrapped around their shoulders. There was no judging how much warmth the material generated, but he assumed it must have been decently enough.
Just as he was about to head back to his hab suite, he spotted a flash of blue coming toward him. He stood patiently as Tailgate approached, a long strip of the same fluffy material around his neck. He trotted up to Cyclonus with a small wave.
Cyclonus raised an optic ridge. “What are you wearing?”
Tailgate’s visor blinked. He felt around for the substance, as if he had forgotten he had it on. He wrapped the edges around his servo, pulling it up to his face. “Oh, this? One of the locals told me to get one. They said it’s good for keeping out the cold. It works, I guess, but I’m still a little cold.”
Cyclonus didn’t reply, instead turning around to continue on his original journey.
"Hey," piped up Tailgate, who sidled up beside Cyclonus. "I was gonna get some warmed energon. Do you want some?"
Cyclonus didn’t stop his strides. He did turn his helm toward the minibot and nodded minutely, causing the smaller mech to grin excitedly.
"Great, I’ll meet you back at the hab suite."