* * *
"You're filthy," Astrotrain informed him when he got back to the rendezvous point. The shuttle stood up to his thighs in a natural plasma pool, scrubbing off the half-melting metal, organic gore, and mud covering his armor. From what Blitzwing recalled of the other triple-changer's dossier, he had very good thermal armor, which explained why his own metal wasn't melting off.
"Can't do much about it." Blitzwing dripped oil, mud, and gore, and he could feel it oozing into his joints. "Some of us aren't rated for temperatures that high."
So far, he liked the other triple-changer. It wasn't often he got assigned to work with others of his kind, and most of them were newbs who needed imprinting. Astrotrain was almost as old as he was and knew how to do his job without Blitzwing holding his hand. Which was just as well; Blitzwing didn't do transportation.
Astrotrain smirked and waded out of the pool. "I'm not letting you inside me like that."
Oh, yeah, one other point in Astrotrain's favor - he looked good. Whatever technicians had put him together had actually known a thing or two about aesthetics. "And what are you-"
Astrotrain grabbed him by the hip and upper arm, shifted slightly, and tossed him into one of the plasma pools. Blitzwing howled and leapt out as soon as he could, the filth and his paint steaming off him and into the atmosphere. The shuttle just laughed at him.
Point number four in Astrotrain's favor - he was a bastard.
End