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“I take it you two didn’t get stuck on the way here?” Prowl of Petrex, Cybertron looked at the two bots in front of him, both sitting in a diner booth across from him with a giant plate of Energel bars sitting in the middle. He spoke normally, his voice obscured by the overlapping chapter of bystanders and the hum of screens and fans.
“Yes sir.” Strongarm of Tarn, Cybertron sat at attention, arms resting on the table as she awaited the next commands Prowl would give. Her white and grey with blue highlights stood out against the red seats and warm amber lighting. The mech to her right had a yellow and black frame with a white face plate for stark contrast, a color scheme that still didn’t stand out against the atmosphere of the diner.
“Of course, Lieutenant.” Sunstreaker of Helex, Cybertron batted his optics as he continued to sit, arms folded in front of him while he took in the speech, “Traffic didn’t pose a problem and we found the place on time.”
“As expected.” Prowl’s doorwings jittered up slightly while he shrugged his shoulders, servos clasped underneath the table. He glanced around, taking in the various cops all bearing IPD gear and Iacon Police Brotherhood badges clasped on their respective hips. None of the other cops bothered to look at Prowl or the two officers sitting with him; they were either enrolled in their own conversations or wisely knew that union members should not interfere with business, especially one between a Lieutenant and his two detectives, “And I highly doubt any brothers in blue would pay any mind to us. We’re just three cops in a cop diner.”
“Regardless, we’ve got an issue here. One of our fellow coworkers has been recommending several joints for after shifts,” He continued, “It’s in our best interests to remind him that his tastes are… less than optimal. I’ve tried to softball it but he seems oblivious.”
“So what do you want to do?” Strongarm shuttered her optics briefly, knowing full well what the reminder was. Sunstreaker kept his relaxed posture, while his optics remained laser focused. “And is he a fellow bot or a-”
“Tell him that he should stop recommending those joints directly. His taste has been bad ever since,” Prowl interjected, his expression remaining blank and dull since the conversation started. Of course if he had better taste he wouldn’t be dumb enough to withhold the results from the last joor’s burglary… shame too. He was always reliable until that one fragup… “You two work in his district right?”
“Yes sir.” Strongarm nodded, having gotten the message.
“He’s the one that-” Sunstreaker trailed off as he saw Prowl’s expression darken, and he took it as a sign to continue the cover, “…told us to try that watering hole in the middle of the Boshar district?” Sunstreaker tilted his head, as his nervous grin morphed into a sneer while his tone remained the same, “Cause if so, I can really make him regret that suggest-”
“He did, in fact.” Prowl raised a servo. Even if he siphoned 14915 shanix once, it’s still unacceptable… every bit of money counts, “But just that one; there’s no need to be vulgar. Being direct will be enough.”
What a buzzkill… Airazor and Tigatron were more fun when it came to snitches… Sunstreaker refused to voice that thought as he gave out a nod in response.
Prowl stared at the duo for a nano klick, his mind already deciding on who to select as the triggerbot for the job.
Sunstreaker’s always been a bit flaky… despite what Hide and Mia have been telling me. He’s a reliable hitter, but we’ll need to make sure Strongarm’s loyalty is still intact. Not that many direct kills… even compared to the Malto siblings…
“So what’s the deal?” Sunstreaker said.
“No changes. Stop asking.”
“Still?” Sunstreaker’s optics glanced towards Strongarm before settling on Prowl, while his tone of voice started to raise in confusion, “Why not someone with more social skill than Ms Rulebook over here?”
“Excuse you, but ‘Ms Rulebook’ already handled these problems without issue. Remember your other screw ups?”
“They all went fine. You’re just being melodramatic. Especially that last case.” And it was clearly fine, that gambler obeyed, and I didn’t get my plating scuffed that time… could’ve preferred no marks but-
“Only because you were about to-” Strongarm’s whisper became louder and more harsh, as her blue optics began to give a side glare to her partner.
“Calm down you two.” Prowl placed one servo on other bots’ left and right shoulder respectively, now glaring at the duo as he spoke again, this time in a lower voice and sterner tone, “Need I remind you that what’s at stake here isn’t some pissing match, it’s our fuel tanks on the line. Unless you want the guy to keep recommending scrap joints or transferring out of Cullen you two should not fumble it. Understood?”
“Understood, sir.” She nodded, tone still flat but wavering.
“Of course, sir.” Sunstreaker followed up, equally flat and wavering as his partner.
“Good. You two have everything you need?“
The pair dug into their subspace holsters, feeling the grips of a Special Weapons Plant UP-32 pistol as their servos brushed against the handle, both making sure not to pull the guns out of their subspace. Both nodded in confirmation.
“You know where the bar is?”
Both nodded, this time from side to side instead of up and down. The message that was given was still clear.
“If so, you’re good. I’ll see you there.”
The pair got up from their seats and walked off as Prowl remained at the booth. Strongarm continued to walk while Sunstreaker began to clench his servos, head still pointed forward as he let his mind wander.
Once again my brother’s girlfriend gets to bag another one… pretty soon she’ll be getting more operations while I end up becoming the fragging cleaner… would’ve been better in the old days.
Another thought entered his mind, this time now trying to focus on a more optimistic turn of events.
Maybe Airazor or Tigatron can give me some ops where I can shine… hell, maybe Chromia and Ironhide can let me shoot an informant myself… even keep some of their belongings… hell as long as I do my job I can get more clout with Airazor and Tigatron…
***
Strongarm walked down the street alongside another mech with a green and white paint job and four wheels behind his back. Unlike her usual paint scheme she now sported a teal and red frame paintjob with blue highlights, with some subtle kibble added to make herself less recognizable to outsiders. The duo kept walking, neither bothering to shift into alt mode to converse due to the now narrow the alleyways and streets were. As the mech began rambling about new gambling dens and places for jewelry, Strongarm kept silent, still giving nods and ambiguous murmurs, waiting for the right cue to shoot. It had been twenty cycles since the duo started walking and in that frame the mech cycled topics from diamonds and how the ones stolen from stores were of middling quality to the best spots to use the money he got from fencing the goods. By then the conversation had shifted to a discussion about a particular bookie.
“...idiot declined me even though he knows I’m good for it!” The mech threw his servos out as he emphasized the last words, “I’ve been to his joint before and he knows I don’t come begging to him for buy-in loans so what gives?”
“Maybe he was having an off day.” She kept staring forward as her and her conversation partner kept walking. “It does happen.”
“Off day my aft. You don’t act like a flaky glitch and expect repeat business from loyal customers with that attitude.”
Maybe if you don’t steal from your employers you would also keep repeat business… She shrugged and gave a dismissive side glance to the mech.
Slamdog of Dayton Velocitron heard footsteps from behind him, and he began to slow his pace as Strongarm followed suit.
Right on cue…
Strongarm kept pace with the thief while her servo curled around the pistol in her subspace storage holster. She shot a quick eye glance at the mech she saw rapidly walking towards the duo, knowing full well that his appearance was her cue. Slamdog however stopped very briefly, now surprised by the new noise in several cycles.
Is that you Sunstreaker?
The mech turned his head around to glance behind, watching a pink and red mech stroll up to him very quickly, before he heard a quick muffled bang; the sensation of something stabbing into his head would be the last thing he ever felt before his vision, hearing, and everything else went dark for good.
Strongarm held the pistol with her right arm, having quickly drawn it out and leaving her arm close to her head as she fired twice. The first shot left a hole where she could see the She saw the mech sag to the ground quickly as his forehead slapped the ground while his torso impacted his thighs and kneecaps. The body soon slumped to the right, and Strongarm paid no mind to the gaping exit wound on the left and front side of the head and spurting black and pink fluids before she shoved the weapon back into her subspace holster and shifted into altmode, now speeding down the alleyway while Sunstreaker followed suit.
The body began to turn grey as he sagged and slumped even further, and more energon and fluids pooled around his head and body as the corpse of Slamdog of Dayton, Velocitron lay in the alleyway.