* * *
"So, there I was, a half a thousand miles from anywhere, my transform circuits disabled, and some Autobot actually buying into my transformation-disguise for once. And he apparently had a fetish for dead Decepticon jets with their wings ripped off. I got a lot of those lodged in my memory banks." Reflector sat in a rarely-used storage room, Ravage sitting on his chest. Well, only one of him did. The other two were getting smashed with Rumble and Frenzy.
The curious thing about the camera-trio, Ravage had noticed, was that overcharging made him quite garrulous... If the talkative component was away from the other two and hadn't actually imbibed any itself. This led to some very strange but ultimately interesting stories being told that might never have otherwise come out.
"Eventually, one of those Seekers turned out to be not so dead after all, and I stowed a ride in his cockpit when he made for our lines again. Tha's how I met Dirge the first time."
Ravage nuzzled at the base of Reflector's throat. //From your turn of phrase, presumably, there was a second time.//
"That involves a purple Seeker dame, a whip, and Ramjet. Sure you want to hear it?"