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Anyway, here are some bits and bobs that got cut from The Renegade and the Hound.
I changed around my mental map of where Nyon was in relation to Altihex, so this wouldn’t have worked anyway. But this was cut because I ended up not needing this segue.
If Bluestreak had known how bad the employment situation was in Kaon, he would have travelled to Nyon instead of Tarn.
He’d had a good thing going in Altihex, but it was far too close to Praxus for comfort. As the vorn had worn on, he’d found himself looking over his shoulder more and more often.
The cycle he saw the Praxian “traders” asking questions from his boss at the port, Bluestreak had left town that day.
This portion got condensed into something a bit more streamlined. It takes place after Bluestreak agrees to stay with the Rangers, and is introduced to his roommates. I’m a little sad at losing some of this characterization, but I think the sequences works better as was posted.
Bluestreak followed General Ironhide across the rear courtyard of the palace and into the barracks area. It felt odd to be walking in the open, around so many other mechs, with his door wings out in the open. Frightening, but also freeing. The barrage of data he was pulling in made it feel as though he’d been spending vorn with a blindfold over his optics.
“You’ll be bunking with three other Rangers,” Ironhide said. “They’re going to be under orders not to let you leave the room until tomorrow.” He glanced down at Bluestreak. “It’s late, so we’ll see what you’re capable of in the morning.”
Bluestreak nodded, but watched warily as the gates were closed behind them as they passed. He was now locked in the barracks for the night.
He was really doing this.
Ironhide led him to a room on the second floor, and knocked on the open door. “Rangers, I want you to meet your new roommate.” He stepped aside to let Bluestreak enter the room. “Goes by Bluestreak. I’ll be by to pick him up in the morning. You know the drill.” With that, Ironhide turned and left him alone with the three strange mechs.
A red mech walked right up to Bluestreak and held out a hand. “Hi! My name’s Sideswipe,” he said brightly. “You can have the berth over there.” He pointed to an empty bunk against the far wall.
Another red mech lounged on the berth next to Bluestreak’s. “Well, well, well,” he said. “A Praxian! And a pretty one at that. This is room now officially has the best-looking mechs in the barracks. And Sideswipe.”
Sideswipe threw a pad at the other red mech. “Shut up, Knock Out,” he said with a grin.
This was also cut for pacing. That chapter was already long enough!
“Prowl,” Bluestreak said, taking his brother’s hand. “I wanted to let you know that Fireblade saved my life today.” He looked across the top of the ridge towards the noble Praxian, who crouched in the dust, his hand on the hilt of his sword as he watched the construct flail at the Praxian troops. “And he fought bravely alongside Hound.” He looked back at Prowl and tipped his door wings up. “I consider him to have repaid the damage he did against me.”
Prowl frowned, then nodded. “When this is over, I will see that he is pardoned.” He gave Bluestreak’s hand a squeeze.
Bluestreak smiled. “Thanks, Prowl.”
