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It doesn’t matter.
These were the words D-16 had stuck by, repeating them for cycles on end. He repeats it when the time is needed, and he knows exactly when it needs to be said.
Why fixate on this further? It's simply a distraction.
In the busiest of cycles, during the tasks that seem to be never ending, the thought sneaks up on him like an unwanted speck of dirt. It is not loud, nor does it make a spectacle of itself in his processor. Quietly, it just stays in shadowed corners, out of the way.
Until it isn't.
On a good day, it wouldnt distract D-16 from his work. He can brush off the thought and continue on with his task, not even stopping to linger on it for more than a second.
On a bad day, it’s unbearable.
It prods in the forefront of D-16’s HUD, almost begging for him to notice its blaring existence. It steps away from its dark depths and parades itself proudly.
Luckily for him, his good days outnumber his bad. Work goes by easier and he has priorities that are more important than whatever crisis he has going on. If it can even be called a crisis in the first place.
But, even then.
Even if some days he can push it back down, that dreadful thing, as inconvenient as it is. Comes popping right back up. It might not be frequent, but it's made its mark on him.
D-16 shook his helm, trying to shove away those incessant thoughts. None of it helped wth his work, damn it. There were more important things to focus on: His tools that might need repairing, him keeping his ranking, his promotion. Those are the things that he should be thinking about.
Yes. Think about those instead.
D-16 grabbed his drill and, with steady servos, started to mine the energon. A simple task, one he's been doing for a long, long time. Again, and again. Drill out the Energon, put them in the cart, repeat until the cart is full and transport it over near the conveyor belt to process it into pure Energon, and go back to mining more until the end of his shift.
Of course, there's always the presence of danger when doing this work. The mines might collapse from tapping an unstable energon vein, or your tools might not work– accidentally hurting one in the process. But that doesn't happen as often, not when you know what to do.
And D-16 has the confidence to admit that, and the skills to back it up. It's why he was at the highest rank compared to the other miners.
He doesn't mean to boast, but he can't deny he is one hell of a worker.
The other miners rely on him; they look to him for advice. He was respected and admired by his peers, not only for being capable and proficient in his work, but also for his reliability. Always open for a helping servo. That's what makes him so easily likable.
D-16 never thought the attention, nor the admiration be uncomfortable. It was quite the opposite. The respect he gained made him happy, him being acknowledged for his effort never failed to make him proud of himself.
And even though, with all of this in his servos, there was still something nagging in the back of his processor. A poking, annoying feeling that kept taking his attention away from what mattered.
An unnameable feeling, or rather, something D-16 didn't want to dignify with an actual name.
The sub-cycle had finished, quicker than he would've thought. Usually, they'd stay there for longer, but he doesn’t mind the early break. D-16 followed the other miners towards the train and boarded it, waiting patiently to get back to the barracks.
It was quiet during the ride back, D-16 noticed. Like he noticed every time he wasn't there. The absence wasn't something one could brush off; no, his presence had always been something obvious and bright.
So much so, that when he isn't there, you’d notice it right away.
Orion Pax.
The slagger, the mech who almost always flakes out on work, even when he promised he’d stay until their shift was over.
It wasn't a surprise to — basically anyone who lived and worked in the mines — that Orion wasn't the type to stay put. You could tell him to stay still for a klik, and he’d crack after 10 nano-kliks.
Attempts have been made in the past. But after a while of Orion thrashing about in D-16’s hold and after getting hit in the face with an elbow too many times, he decided to stop.
Not worth the amount of dents he had to fix. Primus, that mech was too slippery.
Suddenly, the train's speakers announced that they were close to arriving at the barracks, snapping D-16 out of his thoughts. He looked out of the window, admiring the lights of Iacon city. The mid sub-cycles always highlight how beautiful the city looks.
Splashes of bright yellow lights that reflect on the buildings, hues of colors that move constantly, and parades of neons shining through. Iacon was always a beautiful city, but it always took D-16’s vents by surprise when he saw it.
A couple kliks later, and the train has finally arrived at the barracks. The miners slowly fiddled out of the train, some making small conversations with D-16 as they headed inside.
“I can’t wait to finally recharge early...”
“Recharge? You mechs aren't going out tonight?
“Dude, I’m practically trying not to let my legs give out. You still got energy reserves left to party?”
“Why not? The nights’ still young and I personally wanna have fun!”
“Yeah sure, hope you keep that same thought when you wake up to a helmache tomorrow.”
D-16 chuckled at the conversation, he also didn't have anything planned for the cycle. Especially since work ended early. He thought that after work, he could just spend the last few joors training with his punching bag before heading to recharge,
But with that being said, what else could he do? There was still more time to spare…
“Hey, D-16.”
D-16 turned his helm, facing the mech who called for him. “Oh, yeah? What is it?”
“You got any plans today? We’re heading out and we wanna know if you'd like to join us.”
They were an eccentric bunch, D-16 recognized them as a few close friends of Jazz. Knowing him, he was the one who proposed the plan in the first place.
D-16 shook his head, “No thanks, I’ll pass. You guys have fun though.”
The mech waved him off with a smile, and the group began to head out, leaving D-16, and a few other miners staying behind.
Most of them crowded in the game room, with some either busy playing, heavily focused, or shouting instructions into the others' audials. It was.. somewhat alarming to see how absorbed they were, especially for a game, but he can't say much. After all, he and his player 2 would do the same thing.
Both of them are loud when it comes to playing strat-ball. He can't count the number of times he got hit by Orion's pauldron, or when he accidentally clipped his cheek with his helm. The dents would never be permanent, though; the sight of it would send Orion into a giggling fit. In turn, making D-16 join in too.
Orions laugh was just too contagious. How could he not get dragged into his orbit?
D-16’s gaze lingered on the bunch, waiting to see if a familiar red and blue painted bot was hanging around them, too. A small, but hopeful smile painted itself onto his face as he scanned the place from afar.
Well, he wasn’t with Ironhide. Nor with Arcee or Wheeljack, for that matter. He attempted to scan the area further, but to his disappointment, it seemed that Orion wasn’t there. D-16 let out an ex-vent, optics dimming as he turned away to go back to his recharge slab.
He’s probably at the Archives again.
It shouldn't be too much of surprise, that mech always took his time whenever he went there. Sometimes he’d arrive later in the sub-cycle, or early on in the next one.
Why he stays there for so long? D-16 doesn’t know. Even when Orion is telling him stories about the things he had found there, he only knew a little of what Orion told him. There was no way he’d keep secrets of what he found, not when he’d ramble to D-16 about it every time, so that was also out of the picture.
He paused as he took in the sight of the Megatronus sticker on the side of his slab, something Orion gave him during his earlier adventures. His servo came up, and he slowly slid his digit across it.
If he could be completely unabashed here, D-16 always wanted to buy more of his idols' memorabilia, and Orion, however he did it, always got them in mint condition.
But that slagger wouldn’t ever tell him where he got it from. Ever. Orion would always skip the subject entirely OR be annoying about it, he’d say: “Aww, well, if I tell ya where I got it from, then you wouldn't be as excited anymore! The mystery keeps you on your pedes, no?”
Well excuse me. Maybe a mech just wants to know where he can get more, and above all, if you’re not stealing it from anywhere… that was the real question here.
D-16 knows Orion enough that he would never resort to stealing, but considering the quality of the things he brought, it was hard to think so otherwise.
Agh, who was he kidding? His best friend would never do something like that, perish the thought of it, He may have the impulse control of a loose canon but he has lines even he wouldn’t cross. Thats common sense.
He pulled his servo away from his slab and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Unnerved, he was just unnerved.
There weren’t plenty of sub-cycles where he could get this much freedom to do what he wanted.
Plan his schedule for the next sub-cycles? Already finished. Sort out his shanix and organize his budget? Did that in the sub-cycle before. There wasnt anything D-16 hadn’t already done ahead of time.
But because he had already finished them ahead of time, what the slag was he supposed to do now?
D-16 sat down on the platform beneath his recharge slab and pondered, optics focused completely somewhere else.
When was he going to come back?
Of course that was going to be the first thing he thought about, but. Whatever. This was his best friend, its natural to worry about him.
Considering that his best friend is also a danger to his own life, one can’t really blame D-16 for thinking like that too often.
Intertwining his servos together, D-16 leaned back against his slab. His digits twitch faintly even under the pressure of his palms, he'd been working too hard. Overexerting servos or even his frame wasn't unfamiliar to him, hes been there countless times before. Just a quick oil rub between the joints and hes back to working order.
Just as he was about to stand up, a flash of blue suddenly slammed against his side.
“PHHHG–”
“Dee!”
Ah.
There he was.
Orion’s voice immediately shattered the dome of uneasiness surrounding D-16’s spinning spark. He blinked, just once, before immediately punching him on the pauldron.
“Ow! what was that for?!” Orion yelped, all the while pouting as he rubbed his sore pauldron.
D-16 sputtered, servos flailing a bit before he pointed a digit at Orion, “Scrap– Pax, I didnt even see you there!” He let out an ex-vent before glaring at him, “And why were you gone? I thought you said you’d stay until our shifts ended. You just– up and left!”
At that, Orion grimaced, “Well.. you see…” the sentence drawls on, and D-16 is, reasonably, unimpressed. Optics drawn into narrow slits, arms crossed, pede tapping impatiently on the ground.
He really, really, really should have seen this coming. He’s gonna come up with another lame excuse and make another faulty promise, again. Been there done that, he wasnt surprised in the slightest.
D-16’s servo grip on his arm tightens. “Go on.”
Orion takes one look at D-16’s deadpan face, and immediately crumbles.
“I.. I needed to go back. I left something back at the Archives and I realized it too late..” He muttered, fiddling with his digits, “Listen, it was something important! I couldnt just leave it there for some other mech– or even the guards to find.” Orion finally had the courage to look back up at D-16, his face scrunched up into something unwavering.
And, well…
D-16 doesnt approve of Orions plans and adventures, nor his stupid escapades that almost led to his near offlining. Dislike would be too weak a word; hate, too much. The intent is clear anyway. He just doesnt want Orion in danger, or in a situation where he cant get back from.
He wouldnt be able to step in, then, if that were the case.
Yet there was always something Orion had that made him.. hesitate. To not restrain him from chasing that fickle, dangerous goal.
There it was. Right there, looking right at D-16.
That bold, persistent, unyielding determination. Beaming across Orions face.
Call him weak, call him easy. But if D-16 had the chance to ask another bot how they’d react to such genuine and sincere hope, seeing how blinding it is sometimes, to see it on a mech that wears it perfectly? He’d be sure they’d do the same thing as well.
D-16 didn’t look pleased, but his shoulders relaxed as he shook his helm at Orion. “You.. I dont even know what to say.” He paused, then let out a laugh of disbelief, looking to the side, “Honestly..”
A brief moment of silence passed, with D-16 looking off somewhere. His optics were vacant, focused on something else entirely.
Beside him, Orion frowned. A twinge of guilt curling around his spark when he saw his reaction.
His servo hesitated for a nano-klik, before glancing up at D-16 before in-venting and grasped his servo with a firm hold.
D-16’s servo encompassed Orions, his digits a size bigger, and his palm broader than his. Orion felt him flinch, helm immediately turning back to look at him, then down at their servos.
“Wh– Just what do you think you’re doing?”
All he got in reply was Orion’s servo (which, he realised then was quite smaller than his) squeezing his own.
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear, I’m not gonna flake out next time.” He said, his voice soft, like the guilt had just arrived a couple joors too late. “And… if it makes you feel any better. Look what I got for you.”
He pulled out a Megatronus plushie, which already caught D-16’s optics when he saw the purple mask peeking out of Orion's servo.
He tried to resist it, he really did..
“I found it when I was heading to the archives early sub-cycle.. Heh, pretty neat right?” He said with a grin, letting go of D-16's servos to puppet the plushie, as if it were waving at D-16. “Look! Come take me home, Dee!”
D-16 turned away, his servos stiff as he reached out to take it. Though his smile and his attempt to muffle his laugh say something else.
He held the plushie carefully, admiring the details of his idol. All in one small soft form. “I'm not a sparkling, dude.” But he smiled anyway as he moved the small plush’s arm, mimicking what Orion did a few nano-kliks ago, “...Thanks.”
Orion beamed at him, and D-16 couldn’t help but feel a warmth surrounding his chassis, knowing that he caused it.
Well, he hopes his best friend can keep his word this time.
The plush was tucked safely into a small compartment in D-16’s arm, and with a final push of the lock to close it again, he let Orion drag him away to wherever he wanted to go this time.
Seems like he’ll be spending the rest of the sub-cycle with his best friend after all. Hopefully, where he's taking them wasn’t somewhere dangerous, or else he’s got another thing coming.
The lights of Iacon city had dimmed, and the buildings and structures lit up the streets in its place. Dashes of bright lights streak past D-16 and Orion’s frames, reflecting off of them. Orions voice cut through the noise of the city; it was always easy for D-16 to hear him amongst the others.
Iacon City's lights may be vivid and radiant, but those dim in comparison to the light in front of him.