Chapter Text
The arrival of a supply shuttle provided a welcome diversion from the snowy monotony of Messatine. Riptide volunteered for the collection crew before the craft had touched down. Stacking crates onto hovercarts was better than the odd jobs Pharma assigned, after all.
Besides, it was an important task. Supplies were precious at Delphi. Their shipments didn’t always make it through, and the mechs posted there knew better than to tamper with what arrived. The materials could have to last them anywhere from a month to a year. This knowledge didn’t stop the collection crew from mouthing off to each other as they oh-so-carefully handled the containers.
Some new transfers had accompanied the supplies to Delphi, and they assisted with unloading the cargo bay. Riptide was paired with a mech who introduced himself as Clunker and refused to speak further on the subject—or any subject, for that matter.
Riptide picked up his next crate and checked the label. “Hey, don’t the medics use this stuff for preserving organs? I didn’t think Pharma’s done this many transplants the whole time I’ve been here.” He set it on the cart and looked to Clunker, who ignored him, lifting another container. “I wonder what else… we… holy slag, who is that?”
Another passenger had started down the ramp with a crate held above his head. He stopped for a moment as the light reflected off of the snow and hit his face, and Riptide had to reset his optics.
Nope, still there, all strong lines and sharply sculpted angles and piercing yellow eyes. Riptide’s brain didn’t stand a chance against his big mouth.
“Hey, mech, have you been tested for the Signs of Affinity? ‘Cause you’ve got a prime chassis!” Almost immediately after the words left his mouth, Riptide dropped to hide behind the hovercart. “Oh slag oh slag oh slag.” That was the dumbest thing he’d ever said, and he’d said a lot of dumb things in his life.
Next to him, Clunker stacked another crate on the cart. He was actually smirking, the jerk!
“Figures it takes someone else’s making a fool of himself for you to crack a smile,” Riptide muttered.
“You fragged up real bad,” Clunker rumbled, optics brightening with sadistic glee. “That one’s the new ward manager. You’re gonna work with him.”
“Frag my life.”