Dilemma.

Chapter Three.

First Meetings and Reunions.

Ratchet cleared me as fit to leave, and Rian took me by the lower arm, pulling me along behind her. I didn't resist, it was just nice to be with my small if hyperactive sister once again.

"You'll be fine, Sunblazer." she assured me, aware of the apprehension I still felt. As if reading my processors she said "I was just as worried as you when I first came here and found the AllSpark was gone, I was concerned, though more about the possibility of being seized by the 'cons than of my fighting comrades. Of course, I told you about their first reactions, but now they just treat me as one of them, more or less."

At that point Rian reached a door, and pushed it open.

"Hello everybody, my sister's finally arrived. This is Sunblazer," she said as she forged forwards into the room, pulling me in her wake.

The assembled mechs in the room turned as Rian began speaking, but every optic settled on me. I was unused to this sort of scrutiny, looking around the room at anywhere but the suddenly-staring mechs.

"Wow." came a voice, which I couldn't locate. I knew that facially I was not as prettily crafted as Rian, my sister had been crafted in the popular 'small-and-delicate' style. I was tall-and-slender, and facially I was less attractive than Rian, or so I had thought, but every optic was regarding me with an admiration that had me feeling embarrassed. The poor things had obviously been very femme-starved to be looking at me like that!

"Hi." came the same voice a moment later. "I'm Cliffjumper." A red mech a few feet taller than Rian stepped out to where I could see him. His optics were fixed on me, well, not exactly fixed, but looking at me - though moving between different parts of me - the whole time. His optics flickered from my chest to my arms to my legs, to my chest again, then up to my face.

"Can I ask you to come and see a sunset with me?" he asked.

"Cliffjumper, she's barely walked in the door and you're asking her for a date already!" said a blue and white mech about my size and even more slender than I said. "Let her get in and get some energon at least!" He caught my optic and grinned.

"Sorry about Cliffjumper there, that's how he earned his name, he always has to try and get to do and say things first - except of course, engage his processors before doing so." He nodded. "I'm Mirage. So you're Rian's sister, the one she's talked about?"

"She did? Um - yes, I'm Sunblazer, pleased to meet you." I said, remembering my manners.

A green mech now separated himself from the crowd, moving to stand by Mirage.

"I'm Mirage's friend, Hound." he said. He held his hands out and suddenly they were full of a hologram of oversized botanical specimens. It was semi-solid: he pushed it into my hands. A brief look at the planet's internet told me that these were 'flowers.'

"Copy it and store it, it's a gift." he said. I did so and then he allowed the illusion to dissolve.

"I'm interested in this planet and its indigenous species, particularly the dominant species, humans, and in certain cultures their mech-equivalents give their femmes chocolates and flowers as a sign of appreciation. I'll get you some chocolates and real flowers later, but till then the hologram will have to do." he said. "Holograms happen to be my specialty."

"And I'm a covert ops specialist." That was Mirage again, but to my confusion the blue and white mech was nowhere to be seen, although his voice had sounded close to my audio.

Turning my head this way and that was no help, there was no sign of Mirage. I ended up staring at the empty space I'd last seen him occupying.

Then a very gentle kiss was pressed to my cheek, and Mirage shimmered into being mid-kiss. I flinched, for it was a little disconcerting. "That is my special ability," he smiled as he pulled back.

"What's that, Mirage?" asked a short silver mech with a blue optic mask and slightly curved helm-sensors, whom I recognised as Jazz. "You specialise in stealing kisses offa pretty femmes? Nice work if ya can get it!"

"No, Jazz, you know what I mean." said Mirage with a laugh.

"Are we going to finish this game of pool, Jazz, or are you going to stare at the new femme all night." This came from a black and white mech with a red sensor-chevron, who, like Jazz, was holding a long stick of organic plant matter in his hands.

"Well, Prowl, she's a much more attractive sight than that table at the moment," Jazz said, giving me a smile and a tilt of his head. I recalled that I had seen Jazz on the battlefield, and knew that the playful demeanour he was displaying all but disappeared when he was on duty, as I returned his head-tilt with one of my own. "so if she doesn't mind, I think I'll carry on starin'!" he finished.

"He's losing." Mirage smiled.

"Losing?" I asked.

"The game he's playing." Mirage clarified. "It's called 'pool'."

Mirage then explained that pool was a game that had 2 players, each player used the organic sticks, or cues, to strike a white ball. Each player had chosen one of two colours of ball (yellow or red) when the game started. The aim was for the players to 'pot' all their colour of balls followed by the black before the other player. Jazz (yellow) had three balls remaining on the green baize-covered table, and Prowl (red) just the one.

However, by the time Mirage had finished explaining this, Jazz had returned to the game to make a wonderful turn-around, potting his three yellows one after the other, and then followed it by potting the black. He swatted Prowl playfully across the aft with the thick end of his cue, then gave a graceful bow, placing his cue back on the table as he straightened up with a smug grin. He wandered over to an energon dispenser I'd just noticed at the back of the room, a selection of different-sized mugs stacked nearby. He drew three mugs, and wandered back over, handing one to Rian, one to me, with a small bow, and sipping from the last himself.

"Thank you." I said.

'S'all right, I don't have to pay my monthly fees for a month now, thanks to you and Cliffjumper." he said. I looked at him, nonplussed.

"Pardon?" I asked. He laughed.

"We all do work, and earn money, and all put a certain proportion of that towards fuel for Ratchet to brew energon from. Sunny and Sides run a betting pool." he said. "I put a bet that when the next femme arrived, Cliffjumper would be the first mech to ask her for a date, and that he'd do so within twenty-four Earth hours." he said. "Anyone who wins a bet can skip putting that proportion in for one Earth month." he said. "I won that one, so this energon is on everyone else."

"Ratchet makes it?" I asked. Mirage laughed.

"Yes, he does, he says if he makes it he can make sure he won't be treating one of the various maladies that can be caused by poor or sloppy brewing. He said it's in his best interests to brew the stuff, using his medical equipment for purposes it wasn't really designed for. The use of organic fuels gives it an interesting but not at all unpleasant aftertaste, don't you think?" he asked.

I nodded, for he was right.

At that moment the door was pushed open by a big black mech who was taller than Ratchet, with immense arms. Everyone moved out of his way as he made his way purposefully over to the energon dispenser and drew himself a large mug.

"Ah, Ironhide's just come off duty." Rian said cheerfully.