((OOC: ICly takes place after conclusion of Log of Salvage Hunting.))

[It's Slipstream, within one of the several wash areas Elita previously discovered, but she's not bathing live for an audience or anything. Actually, she's holding a datapad of some kind. Of course her whole body is a computing system, but she's going with the theory Holding of Pad = Business Authority, so, she's trying just a little too hard to make sure it's seen; might be that inherited tendency for over-acting she supposes all Starscream's clones to share.]

A few points of Business. [This is her best business-like voice, which isn't really all that different from her pleasant or ranting voices; but the highs and lows are compressed a bit.]

Teddie Bear, those raw materials we talked about are in that place you mentioned. The delivery of your other item will take just a short while longer.

[No lock or encryption; she's just vague. Slipstream pretends to refer to her datapad by tapping it with a single sharp digit.]

On a not-necessarily-related note, I may have some work for someone qualified to repair personal electronics from Earth containing sonic cleaning systems. Details available upon request.

There is a need for batteries, or substitute device to power a small electronic device from Earth. You might contact me about that.

The washracks located in the Nexic quadrant are in need of several mirrors. It is strictly a security matter, benefiting all who use the facility, to promote situational awareness. [That sounds like a legitimate and convincing reason, right?]

Oh, yeah, and- [Not managing business-like as well here.] Cybertronians altering their facial ornamentation. That's a thing, right? We don't exactly have body shops or warehouses full of mods, so, any suggestions about that? It's not a personal request, just we should have that, for the future, don't you think? [She gives her 'don't even ask' look.]

[And back to business-like.] Your time is appreciated.

[END.]

[It's Slipstream, Cybertronian Seeker with a light-teal and violet deco. Thruster repaired, she's hovering within the void of a crater. She attempts to sound pleasant, though whether she's successful is arguable.]

First off, any of you big bots or fellow refugees seen parts of this planet not littered with piles of scrap or marked with so many stellar craters. [Sarcasm: it is thick here.]

No offense to the big bot. The neighborhood looks to be undergoing some urban renewal, and offers all kinds of nostalgia for bots with experience in mining or demolitions. There's even attractions for the organics, like the ice hockey rinks. [Meaning the icy surfaces in the depths of the craters, images of which she's broadcasting.] And there's plenty of available residences in secure, well-shielded excavations.

And, second, since it's been established we weren't collected one from each universe, anyone noticed an exceptionally charming, handsome, egotistical, suck-up of a Seeker skulking around? If he's not in a pile of scrap waiting to be recycled, he's probably making a nuisance of himself!

You might say he looks something like me. [She gestures to those parts of her own body corresponding to her description.] Extra-broad shoulders. Strong- jaw. Amber canopy.

[Slipstream crosses her arms over her cockpit canopy. Lip components press together in something near a frown.]

It's not like I need to find him, or he's some great leader, or useful. But, I might not mind knowing if he's around.