- Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
- Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Corridors leading to Tracer’s Quarters
With his actuators firmly intertwined with hers, Smokescreen followed Tracer through the docking tunnel until they had reached the Guardian. The troubled femme then paused for a few moments as she looked in every direction trying to remember which way to go. The rallybot remained quiet as he didn’t want to disrupt her concentration. It was difficult enough as it was for her. He didn’t need to add any extra obstacles to her own memory banks. Come one, Trace, you can do it. I know you can.
Smokescreen’s thoughts were confirmed when Tracer finally remembered the direction she needed to go, her audible exclamation reinforced only by her sudden tug on the diversion expert’s arm before she dragged him to the left and down the corridor. Again, Smokey remained silent, focusing instead on trying to keep in pace with the increasingly excited femme as she recalled each hallway along the path to not only her quarters but to her hidden memories, as well.
So far, so good, Smokescreen thought as Tracer began pointing to a series of doors down one particular corridor. They were almost there and had thankfully not encountered anyone yet, especially Axle who was likely still in the med bay. Considering how quickly she was moving, it didn’t take Tracer long to reach the door that belonged to her, the twelve one. Another hard yank and Smokey almost crashed into her locked quarters, but he managed to steady himself by placing his free hand on the wall to the right side. He then removed said hand and watched as Tracer tried desperately to remember the access code to her room, allowing her actuators to slip away from his own digits.
Pressing her hands against both sides of her cranium, it took Tracer a bit longer than when she had tried to remember which direction to go once she had crossed the docking tunnel. Smokescreen almost wanted to help her this time as it seemed as though the troubled femme wasn’t having much luck accessing that part of her processor. Instead of saying anything, he simply placed a reassuring hand onto her shoulder plate. That gesture alone seemed to work as Tracer practically leapt at the keypad and typed in the correct code, the doorway opening before them.
Her initial comment regarding the mess that was her quarters elicited a slight chuckle from Smokescreen. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be too worried about it, Tracer. I’ve seen worse, much worse,” the rallybot replied as he stepped inside and took a look around. “I guess now’s a good a time as any to tidy up. Not only will the room look better but it’ll allow you to do what you came here for.” The diversion expert then turned to face the drug-addicted femme. “I’ll help you to clean if you want, but I think it might be best for you to go through most of your stuff on your own in order to help jog those concealed memories of yours. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Corridors leading away from Med Bay
For a change Bluestreak quieted his vocal processor and instead listened as Axle laid things out for him. The field medic didn’t go into a lot of detail, only saying that something had happened on the planet below, something very bad, and he needed to know exactly what Hex had been up to before he got involved with Hot Rodimus. The black and silver mech nodded his cranium as Axle looked around the corridor they were currently standing in and quickly located the likeliest place that Hex would call home, a ventilation shaft.
“I don’t understand,” Bluestreak began to say as he stepped out of Axle’s way. “Why would anyone want to live behind a grate where cyber-rats would make their den? It just doesn’t make any sense to me. Of course, from what I’ve heard of Hex, he’s a bit on the strange side anyway. But if you really think this could be....” The chatterbot’s comments were quickly interrupted as the field medic explained why Hex lived in such conditions, all the while working on removing the metal covering from the wall. The reason for living in tight spaces made sense considering what the young ward had gone through. In all actuality, it wasn’t that much different from the reason why Blue always talked non-stop. Both of them simply wanted to forget the past and avoid anything that would bring back those horrible memories.
Once the grate had been successfully removed, Axle stood back up to his full height and addressed the Autobot gunner, asking him to crawl into the ventilation shaft and have a look around. The concern in the field medic’s optics spoke volumes, even more than what Bluestreak could say verbally, which was quite a bit if given the opportunity. There was no way the black and silver mech could say no to such a request, nor was there any reason to. “Okay, Axle, I understand now. Hex may be a bit strange to some, but there’s a reason for it. I get that now. I’ll be happy to help you out in any way that I can. Hopefully, together we’ll be able to find out what exactly happened to him.”
Bluestreak felt Axle’s hand on his shoulder plate as the field medic blamed himself for whatever happened to his ward. The gunner shook his cranium as he cast the former doctor a reassuring smile. “No, no, it’s not your fault. Hex may be young but he is responsible for his own actions regardless of his past. I’ve got a dark past, too, but I don’t go around doing bad things, especially not to others on my own team. Don’t blame yourself. After all, you can’t always watch him, you know. You’ve got your own responsibilities to worry about. Hex has got to learn to take care of himself and walk the right path without being told what to do.” Blue then cocked his cranial unit to one side at the mention of Hardhead. “Wait, Hardhead’s involved in this, too? Primus, has everyone gone mad around here? I know things looked pretty grim down in the med bay, but I had no idea just how bad it was. I can see Hex going off the deep end, but Hardhead? None of this makes any sense.”
Letting out a defeated sigh, Bluestreak got down on his hands and knees and began to crawl into the ventilation shaft that Hex called home. If there were any answers to be found, it would be in here. The gunner’s door-wings scraped across the top slightly, but left no major damage to speak of. Blue simply folded them over one another until they hugged his backplates, giving him more maneuverability in these cramped quarters. A few astroseconds later, the black and silver mech found himself in a slightly larger area, a connection hub where other smaller shafts intersected. It was still a tight space, but not quite as bad as the shaft, itself. This is where Hex kept the majority of his things, or at least it appeared that way.
“Okay, Axle, I’ve reached the spot where Hex made his bed so to speak,” Bluestreak said as he glanced around and looked back down the tight tunnel where he could see the field medic’s concerned visage peering inside. “So, what exactly am I supposed to be looking for in here, anyway? There’s a lot of stuff strewn about. Anything in particular your want me to search for?”