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Enroute, The Decagon
With his last bit of business with Red Alert concluded at the Command Centre, Prowl once again departed.
As he drove to the Decagon to oversee the final assembly of the army he spent the last two years building, he privately reflected on those that made this accomplishment possible.
---
"To my astonishment, I have had little trouble maneuvering the civilian branch. Strangely, I find that I am not at all disconcerted by this discovery."
"Red Alert becomes quite malleable with a simple conciliatory offering - hand-outs to his department, for example - or, like today, shameful cajoling. His feud with the military branch, while initially bothersome, I have come to recognize as beneficial. In fact, in a fashion, I helped propagate his petty dissension and stood by as it garnered ISS support. It kept him grounded, thus maintaining the people's trust and adoration. It is better to divert the people's gaze to the ISS, to whom they trust the most. Red Alert; you and the ISS will protect Iacon well. And to so, the people must remain unaware that the military arbitrates their actions."
"The senate -- stubborn in their ways, balancing an outmoded spiritually-minded system with the more current democratic legal process. Hardly a pragmatic dichotomy. Fortunately, I am quite fluent in legal speak. Or rather, I have the patience for it. Working closely with the Prime lineage over the millennia has also allowed me to hone my understanding of the...less-practical and far more impulsive aspects of Autobot government as well. I do not deny its necessity, all the same. Or its uses. When I cited the Iaconian-Protihexian Treaty, the council had little choice but to listen - and comply. It is in their nature to so...
"And then there is the SIS -- Thank you, Smokescreen. Without your duplicities, I would not have had as strong of a basis as I do to act. Perhaps that was your intention all along."
"Contrary to what they all doubtlessly believe, it is not glory that I seek. I simply intend to win this war. Nothing more. In the end, are not their own ambitions fulfilled?
I suppose everyone benefits."
---
Prowl soon arrived outside the Decagon. He transformed and made his way through the courtyard to the main entrance.
"You all played a integral part. Now, it is time to look within the military complex," he pondered. "I have aptly played my role; my army is ready. It now goes to Optimus Prime himself. How will he perform?"
[G1 RPG] Terminus: The Chessmaster (Iacon)
ISS Holding Cells
"Will do, Picket Fence," Firecracker quipped back to Blades. "I'll be in touch."
As he walked through the building, he was surprised by how well-designed the facility was. Strategically mounted mirrors let him see not just around corners, but into all of the cells and adjoining rooms turning the building into a panopticon even with the security cameras out. Because of that, he was able to walk openly down the hall without fear of being ambushed. Most of the cells on this level were empty, which made sense. His paymaster was well connected, and he'd done his best to make sure the operation would run as smoothly as possible. Firecracker liked it that way. Although he didn't have any qualms about killing, he had the feeling that if he'd had to plug a few dozen convicts to make sure there were no witnesses to the break-in, the ISS might take it a tad more seriously than what he was doing now.
Arriving at the cell, he smiled when he saw a familiar -- if only from the dossier he'd been given -- face looking up at him. "Slingshot?"
"Who's asking?" the Aerialbot demanded defiantly.
"Name's Firecracker."
"Really." Slingshot took one look at the thermal blaster in his hand. "I'm guessing that's for me. What, you're buddies with one of those 'Cons I put down?"
Firecracker scoffed. "Not hardly. Actually, I think that was a nice piece of work."
"What, I've got fans now?"
"More than you might guess," Firecracker admitted. "What you did...it was a good start."
"What do you mean?" Slingshot demanded.
"Exactly what it sounds like. There's still a lot of 'Cons out there. Some of us don't like making nice with 'em while they're busy planning to gut us and drink our energon."
"So what, exactly?" Slingshot asked. "You bust in here to tell me what an inspiration I am?"
"Not exactly." Firecracker leaned in and dropped his voice.. "Like I said, some of us think the same way you do. We're tired of seeing purple badges every time we walk down the street and we're going to do something about it. And so we figured, a guy who's as good as you at making corpses out of 'Con scum, that's the kinda guy we want on the team."
"What, this is a job interview?"
"Sort of. Unless you're just a big ol' softy who only got wound up because he had too much drink in him."
"You really think insults are going to make your offer more tempting?"
"Not really," Firecracker admitted. "They're just funny. Besides, we both know you're not going to turn me down. There's lots of killing to be done and you want in on the ground floor. Admit it."
Slingshot shrugged. "If you say so."
"It doesn't hurt that I'm the only way you'll ever see the outside of that cell again. We both know that you're headed for spark extraction unless you come with me. Not a career choice I'd recommend, personally."
"Well, when you put it like that..."
"I thought so." Firecracker raised his gun and fired, a quick blast that lanced through the locking mechanism of the cell door. "Follow me."
Activating his comm, he said, "Yo, Mr. Looseleaf! I've got the package and I'm headed for the extraction point."
___________________________________________
The Decagon
Silverbolt transformed to robot mode and dropped to the ground outside the main entrance, doing his best to ignore the queasy feeling that lingered for a few moments after he'd touched down. The rest of his troops would be arriving shortly, but he was alone for now and had a few moments to collect his thoughts.
When he'd met with the troops, he'd given them all the usual lines. Duty, honour, loyalty, faction. He'd told them to be careful, to stick with their wingman and keep close to their flightmates. And then he'd told them just how proud he was of each and every one of them. But none of it made a damn bit of difference. He was leading them into danger, and he knew that most of them were going to come back home in pieces.
The Aerialbot leader saw Prowl, cutting through the throng of dozens of Junkion soldiers that were milling about outside the fortress as he made his way toward the entrance. When his eyes fell on the strategist he couldn't help his expression from turning into a withering glare. He looked away almost immediately, but didn't feel the shame he expected to come. The only thing he felt was anger, anger at Prowl for forcing his cadets into action, anger at whoever had forced his hand.
Ducking his head, Silverbolt stalked inside without a word.
"Will do, Picket Fence," Firecracker quipped back to Blades. "I'll be in touch."
As he walked through the building, he was surprised by how well-designed the facility was. Strategically mounted mirrors let him see not just around corners, but into all of the cells and adjoining rooms turning the building into a panopticon even with the security cameras out. Because of that, he was able to walk openly down the hall without fear of being ambushed. Most of the cells on this level were empty, which made sense. His paymaster was well connected, and he'd done his best to make sure the operation would run as smoothly as possible. Firecracker liked it that way. Although he didn't have any qualms about killing, he had the feeling that if he'd had to plug a few dozen convicts to make sure there were no witnesses to the break-in, the ISS might take it a tad more seriously than what he was doing now.
Arriving at the cell, he smiled when he saw a familiar -- if only from the dossier he'd been given -- face looking up at him. "Slingshot?"
"Who's asking?" the Aerialbot demanded defiantly.
"Name's Firecracker."
"Really." Slingshot took one look at the thermal blaster in his hand. "I'm guessing that's for me. What, you're buddies with one of those 'Cons I put down?"
Firecracker scoffed. "Not hardly. Actually, I think that was a nice piece of work."
"What, I've got fans now?"
"More than you might guess," Firecracker admitted. "What you did...it was a good start."
"What do you mean?" Slingshot demanded.
"Exactly what it sounds like. There's still a lot of 'Cons out there. Some of us don't like making nice with 'em while they're busy planning to gut us and drink our energon."
"So what, exactly?" Slingshot asked. "You bust in here to tell me what an inspiration I am?"
"Not exactly." Firecracker leaned in and dropped his voice.. "Like I said, some of us think the same way you do. We're tired of seeing purple badges every time we walk down the street and we're going to do something about it. And so we figured, a guy who's as good as you at making corpses out of 'Con scum, that's the kinda guy we want on the team."
"What, this is a job interview?"
"Sort of. Unless you're just a big ol' softy who only got wound up because he had too much drink in him."
"You really think insults are going to make your offer more tempting?"
"Not really," Firecracker admitted. "They're just funny. Besides, we both know you're not going to turn me down. There's lots of killing to be done and you want in on the ground floor. Admit it."
Slingshot shrugged. "If you say so."
"It doesn't hurt that I'm the only way you'll ever see the outside of that cell again. We both know that you're headed for spark extraction unless you come with me. Not a career choice I'd recommend, personally."
"Well, when you put it like that..."
"I thought so." Firecracker raised his gun and fired, a quick blast that lanced through the locking mechanism of the cell door. "Follow me."
Activating his comm, he said, "Yo, Mr. Looseleaf! I've got the package and I'm headed for the extraction point."
___________________________________________
The Decagon
Silverbolt transformed to robot mode and dropped to the ground outside the main entrance, doing his best to ignore the queasy feeling that lingered for a few moments after he'd touched down. The rest of his troops would be arriving shortly, but he was alone for now and had a few moments to collect his thoughts.
When he'd met with the troops, he'd given them all the usual lines. Duty, honour, loyalty, faction. He'd told them to be careful, to stick with their wingman and keep close to their flightmates. And then he'd told them just how proud he was of each and every one of them. But none of it made a damn bit of difference. He was leading them into danger, and he knew that most of them were going to come back home in pieces.
The Aerialbot leader saw Prowl, cutting through the throng of dozens of Junkion soldiers that were milling about outside the fortress as he made his way toward the entrance. When his eyes fell on the strategist he couldn't help his expression from turning into a withering glare. He looked away almost immediately, but didn't feel the shame he expected to come. The only thing he felt was anger, anger at Prowl for forcing his cadets into action, anger at whoever had forced his hand.
Ducking his head, Silverbolt stalked inside without a word.
FYI: I found the missing page! That's why the post count for this thread is suddenly larger. Doesn't excuse that I'm a big stupid head for messing stuff up, but at least everything's back to normal.
ISS Holding Cells
"You got him? Not too shabby, Crackers. I'm heading over that way now," Blades told Firecracker. "Still got the camo switched on in case anyone spots your fluorescent colored skidplate. Don't worry, I'll be watching and waiting for you."
(OOC: Not sure where the extraction point is. The front entrance? The way they came in? I'll go along with whatever. PM me if you need Blades to do something first and I'll get to editing)
______________
The Decagon
As Prowl climbed the stairs to the entrance of the fortress, a member of the compound's staff, having seen Prowl arrive, trailed closely behind the General as he relayed his report.
As they walked, Prowl looked ahead, not once turning to give eye contact to his subordinate. His subroutines were clearly in full swing, completely focused at the task ahead.
"...424* have checked in so far," the functionary said. (OOC: * Arbitrary number. It could be bigger, it could be smaller)
"Mm-hm, yes," Prowl answered as the doors to stronghold slid open for him.
"...The Calabi Yau, Integritas, Mirror-Manifold, Veracitas, Vigilare are fueled and have been moved to the Spaceport," he continued. "GADEPs 01, 02 and 03, along with Galaxy Shuttle await on the 2nd basement level for final inspection, sir."
"Good. I will attend to that right now," said the General. "Thank you, officer. Dismissed."
"Sir," the staff officer stiffly saluted before sprinting off.
Upon entering the fortress, from his peripheral vision, Prowl espied Silverbolt attempting to shy away from the chief strategist.
"Silverbolt," he called out in a somewhat parental tone. "Care to accompany me?" He motioned to a nearby lift, oblivious to the Aerialbot's mood.
(OOC: Up to you if he will. He may be "busy", after all. Mind, all Prowl needs is a report from him. Depends if you were wanting to develop 'Bolts and/or for him to see what's been cooking in the basement all this time. Just putting that out there in case if you were interested. If you're not, don't worry.)
ISS Holding Cells
"You got him? Not too shabby, Crackers. I'm heading over that way now," Blades told Firecracker. "Still got the camo switched on in case anyone spots your fluorescent colored skidplate. Don't worry, I'll be watching and waiting for you."
(OOC: Not sure where the extraction point is. The front entrance? The way they came in? I'll go along with whatever. PM me if you need Blades to do something first and I'll get to editing)
______________
The Decagon
As Prowl climbed the stairs to the entrance of the fortress, a member of the compound's staff, having seen Prowl arrive, trailed closely behind the General as he relayed his report.
As they walked, Prowl looked ahead, not once turning to give eye contact to his subordinate. His subroutines were clearly in full swing, completely focused at the task ahead.
"...424* have checked in so far," the functionary said. (OOC: * Arbitrary number. It could be bigger, it could be smaller)
"Mm-hm, yes," Prowl answered as the doors to stronghold slid open for him.
"...The Calabi Yau, Integritas, Mirror-Manifold, Veracitas, Vigilare are fueled and have been moved to the Spaceport," he continued. "GADEPs 01, 02 and 03, along with Galaxy Shuttle await on the 2nd basement level for final inspection, sir."
"Good. I will attend to that right now," said the General. "Thank you, officer. Dismissed."
"Sir," the staff officer stiffly saluted before sprinting off.
Upon entering the fortress, from his peripheral vision, Prowl espied Silverbolt attempting to shy away from the chief strategist.
"Silverbolt," he called out in a somewhat parental tone. "Care to accompany me?" He motioned to a nearby lift, oblivious to the Aerialbot's mood.
(OOC: Up to you if he will. He may be "busy", after all. Mind, all Prowl needs is a report from him. Depends if you were wanting to develop 'Bolts and/or for him to see what's been cooking in the basement all this time. Just putting that out there in case if you were interested. If you're not, don't worry.)
ISS Holding Cells
Slingshot frowned when Blades' voice crackled out of Firecracker's comm.
"Is that who I think it is?" he asked.
"Damned if I know," Firecracker admitted. "Pseudonyms are all the rage for you 'on the run from the law' types. Dude calls himself 'Graze', but the name's about as real as Hubcap's resume, am I right?"
Slingshot shrugged. "If you say so."
"We're headed out through the parking garage," Firecracker told him as they retraced his path. "He'll meet us there. Then we'll jack a paddywagon and be on our way to my boss's super-secret hidden base that absolutely isn't an abandoned part of the sewer system, I promise."
Slingshot sighed. "I don't think I like you."
"Yeah, I get that a lot," Firecracker shrugged. "Whatcha gonna do? Life's hard and then you die, right?"
The duo walked out into the garage, and Firecracker looked around. "Yo Graze! You wanna turn off Spook Mode for a sec and say hi to our new friend here? I've got some delicious motor vehicle theft to get up to."
___________________________________________
The Decagon
Silverbolt waited for a beat, doing his best to compose himself before he looked over to Prowl.
"Of course," he said. His voice was steady -- too steady, a sure sign that he was keeping his emotions in check. But then, Prowl being Prowl Silverbolt thought it doubtful that he'd pick up on that, or understand it if he did. "What can I do for you?"
___________________________________________
Autobase
Shadow Striker walked casually down the generator building's main hall, heading for the exit but in no hurry to get there. Her expression was one of utter boredom, making it look to a casual observer that she had just finished one more in an interminable series of boring, spark-crushing shifts at the facility.
Of course, she'd actually just finished planting a bomb on the generator's main power regulator, so appearances to the contrary she really needed to get out of the building. That's why, when she heard an unfamiliar voice yell "Stop!" in her direction she didn't waste time asking questions. She just pulled her acid blaster, sprayed the hall with fire and took off at a run.
"That's our mech, alright," the voice said. "Sideswipe, take her down!"
"With pleasure."
The second voice came from in front of her, and Shadow Striker barely had a chance to duck before a fist sliced through the air where her head had just been at what seemed like the speed of sound. Not one to take chances, she stabbed forward with the sharp edges of her gun, driving it into the torso plating of the robot who'd attacked her.
The bigger robot reeled back, and Shadow Striker took the split-second reprieve as a chance to draw her missile launcher and take aim. But she heard a gunshot a split second before she pulled the trigger and watched in shock as her weapon was blasted from her hands. Two more shots and her knees gave out, their servos blasted apart with surgical precision.
Before she could think of her next move, the Autobot that she'd knifed was looming above her. His fist dropped down toward her face and her world went black.
___________________________________________
Crosshairs holstered his pistol and joined Sideswipe, standing above the fallen Imperial spy.
"She, uh, doesn't match your description very well," Sideswipe noted.
"She must have had some cosmetic work done, then."
"Or you must have been so blasted out of your mind that you weren't seeing anything but blurs."
"Or that."
"Well, lucky for you," Sideswipe said with a grin, "I really would hit a girl."
"With a bit more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary," Crosshairs noted. "We need her awake and ready for interrogation."
"It was just a tap," Sideswipe shrugged. "She'll wake up in a few minutes. Besides, the slag knifed me. She had it coming." Looking down at his torso armour, he checked out the wound and said, "Thankfully, it looks like she just did cosmetic damage." Then he pulled out the blade and said, "Although I have to admit, this knifegun of hers is pretty neat. I think I'll keep it."
"I'm glad you've got a new toy," Crosshairs said tartly, "but we've got work to do. Grab her legs and start dragging. You've got to get her back to Drift."
"What about you?"
"I'm staying here," Crosshairs told him. "Once she tells you where the bomb is, someone will have to be here to turn it off."
"All the dirty jobs..." As Sideswipe dragged the unconscious femme out of the building, he commed Drift and said, "We've got our spy. I'm on my way."
Slingshot frowned when Blades' voice crackled out of Firecracker's comm.
"Is that who I think it is?" he asked.
"Damned if I know," Firecracker admitted. "Pseudonyms are all the rage for you 'on the run from the law' types. Dude calls himself 'Graze', but the name's about as real as Hubcap's resume, am I right?"
Slingshot shrugged. "If you say so."
"We're headed out through the parking garage," Firecracker told him as they retraced his path. "He'll meet us there. Then we'll jack a paddywagon and be on our way to my boss's super-secret hidden base that absolutely isn't an abandoned part of the sewer system, I promise."
Slingshot sighed. "I don't think I like you."
"Yeah, I get that a lot," Firecracker shrugged. "Whatcha gonna do? Life's hard and then you die, right?"
The duo walked out into the garage, and Firecracker looked around. "Yo Graze! You wanna turn off Spook Mode for a sec and say hi to our new friend here? I've got some delicious motor vehicle theft to get up to."
___________________________________________
The Decagon
Silverbolt waited for a beat, doing his best to compose himself before he looked over to Prowl.
"Of course," he said. His voice was steady -- too steady, a sure sign that he was keeping his emotions in check. But then, Prowl being Prowl Silverbolt thought it doubtful that he'd pick up on that, or understand it if he did. "What can I do for you?"
___________________________________________
Autobase
Shadow Striker walked casually down the generator building's main hall, heading for the exit but in no hurry to get there. Her expression was one of utter boredom, making it look to a casual observer that she had just finished one more in an interminable series of boring, spark-crushing shifts at the facility.
Of course, she'd actually just finished planting a bomb on the generator's main power regulator, so appearances to the contrary she really needed to get out of the building. That's why, when she heard an unfamiliar voice yell "Stop!" in her direction she didn't waste time asking questions. She just pulled her acid blaster, sprayed the hall with fire and took off at a run.
"That's our mech, alright," the voice said. "Sideswipe, take her down!"
"With pleasure."
The second voice came from in front of her, and Shadow Striker barely had a chance to duck before a fist sliced through the air where her head had just been at what seemed like the speed of sound. Not one to take chances, she stabbed forward with the sharp edges of her gun, driving it into the torso plating of the robot who'd attacked her.
The bigger robot reeled back, and Shadow Striker took the split-second reprieve as a chance to draw her missile launcher and take aim. But she heard a gunshot a split second before she pulled the trigger and watched in shock as her weapon was blasted from her hands. Two more shots and her knees gave out, their servos blasted apart with surgical precision.
Before she could think of her next move, the Autobot that she'd knifed was looming above her. His fist dropped down toward her face and her world went black.
___________________________________________
Crosshairs holstered his pistol and joined Sideswipe, standing above the fallen Imperial spy.
"She, uh, doesn't match your description very well," Sideswipe noted.
"She must have had some cosmetic work done, then."
"Or you must have been so blasted out of your mind that you weren't seeing anything but blurs."
"Or that."
"Well, lucky for you," Sideswipe said with a grin, "I really would hit a girl."
"With a bit more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary," Crosshairs noted. "We need her awake and ready for interrogation."
"It was just a tap," Sideswipe shrugged. "She'll wake up in a few minutes. Besides, the slag knifed me. She had it coming." Looking down at his torso armour, he checked out the wound and said, "Thankfully, it looks like she just did cosmetic damage." Then he pulled out the blade and said, "Although I have to admit, this knifegun of hers is pretty neat. I think I'll keep it."
"I'm glad you've got a new toy," Crosshairs said tartly, "but we've got work to do. Grab her legs and start dragging. You've got to get her back to Drift."
"What about you?"
"I'm staying here," Crosshairs told him. "Once she tells you where the bomb is, someone will have to be here to turn it off."
"All the dirty jobs..." As Sideswipe dragged the unconscious femme out of the building, he commed Drift and said, "We've got our spy. I'm on my way."
The Decagon
"A status report, mostly," Prowl answered Silverbolt.
The General approached the elevator and punched a sequence of keys on the nearby interface. After a brief wait, the tiny screen on the pad lit up in a welcoming green, followed by a mechanical voice announcing that lower level access had been granted."IDENTIFICATION SCAN AND PASSWORD CONFIRMATION COMPLETE. DESIGNATION:'PROWL' RECOGNIZED."
The double doors to the lift slid open and Prowl stepped inside.
"...And, of course, to consult with my sub-commanders. It is important that we remain on the same page, after all," the Chief Strategist continued. "I trust your squadrons are ready?"
_______
ISS Holding Cells
Blades waited in the parking garage of the basement, leaning with one leg propped up against a support column. Still cloaked, he kept watch on the entrance ramp, periodically glancing over toward the elevator for Firecracker, along with his "package", to arrive.
When the lift door eventually did open and Firecracker stepped out, Blades was amused, if not pleasantly surprised, by who followed him. (OOC: A whole lot of "elevator" stuff going in this post, huh?)
"Yo Graze! You wanna turn off Spook Mode for a sec and say hi to our new friend here?"
Blades straightened himself up and slapped the magnetized device on his chest to deactivate it. Tiny electrical bolts rolled off his body as he reappeared.
He chuckled as he stepped forward. "Ha! Well, I'll be damned. It's Slingshot. Small frickin' planet. So, this is your anonymous flyboy."
"A status report, mostly," Prowl answered Silverbolt.
The General approached the elevator and punched a sequence of keys on the nearby interface. After a brief wait, the tiny screen on the pad lit up in a welcoming green, followed by a mechanical voice announcing that lower level access had been granted."IDENTIFICATION SCAN AND PASSWORD CONFIRMATION COMPLETE. DESIGNATION:'PROWL' RECOGNIZED."
The double doors to the lift slid open and Prowl stepped inside.
"...And, of course, to consult with my sub-commanders. It is important that we remain on the same page, after all," the Chief Strategist continued. "I trust your squadrons are ready?"
_______
ISS Holding Cells
Blades waited in the parking garage of the basement, leaning with one leg propped up against a support column. Still cloaked, he kept watch on the entrance ramp, periodically glancing over toward the elevator for Firecracker, along with his "package", to arrive.
When the lift door eventually did open and Firecracker stepped out, Blades was amused, if not pleasantly surprised, by who followed him. (OOC: A whole lot of "elevator" stuff going in this post, huh?)
"Yo Graze! You wanna turn off Spook Mode for a sec and say hi to our new friend here?"
Blades straightened himself up and slapped the magnetized device on his chest to deactivate it. Tiny electrical bolts rolled off his body as he reappeared.
He chuckled as he stepped forward. "Ha! Well, I'll be damned. It's Slingshot. Small frickin' planet. So, this is your anonymous flyboy."
-
Heinrad
- Posts: 6282
- Joined: Sun Dec 23, 2001 5:00 am
- Location: Riskin' it all on my Russian Roulette!
Entering the Decagon:
Prime rolled to a halt and transformed, the others following suit. "Hot Rod, with me. The rest of you, check on the status of preperations."
Ironhide, Tracks, and Nightbeat moved off as Prime and Hot Rod moved deeper into the Decagon.
"Kind of strange, isn't it?"
Prime nodded. "It's a strange situation." Then he kept looking forward. "Which is why I want you to stay here."
Hot Rod almost stopped. "I was talking about the fact that you sent Ironhide off. Although I have to wonder why."
Prime slowed his stride. "There is a very real chance that Thunderwing will target me, Ironhide, Magnus, Grimlock, and the others. What reports I've been seeing indicate that he could well kill all of us." Then he turned his head. "I believe that Thunderwing will be stopped this day, but I fear the cost will be very high. If that happens, if the worst happens....... I want you here, in Iacon."
Hot Rod looked puzzled. "What good can I do here?"
"Lead our people."
Hot Rod's optics widened. "Uh-uh. I don't think I'm ready-"
Prime shook his head. "Nor was I, when Alpha Trion rebuilt me. And if you're about to say something about not being any more ready than you were last time, remember there is a difference between us. My friends were butchered by someone we admired. In that instant, the youthful blinders were ripped from my optics. In your case, you felt that my death was your fault, and added to that was the fact that you were forced into the role of Rodimus Prime before you were mentally ready for it. But you have the experience now.... and the knowledge that you don't have to be me, or act like me..... but be yourself."
Hot Rod stood speechless for a moment, and Prime stopped to wait for him.
Prime started forward again. "I do have one piece of advice, though. Pick an advisor that balances out your weaknesses. There are times you may curse the decision, but it will work out well." Then he activated his commlink. "Very well, Barricade. Put him on."
Prime rolled to a halt and transformed, the others following suit. "Hot Rod, with me. The rest of you, check on the status of preperations."
Ironhide, Tracks, and Nightbeat moved off as Prime and Hot Rod moved deeper into the Decagon.
"Kind of strange, isn't it?"
Prime nodded. "It's a strange situation." Then he kept looking forward. "Which is why I want you to stay here."
Hot Rod almost stopped. "I was talking about the fact that you sent Ironhide off. Although I have to wonder why."
Prime slowed his stride. "There is a very real chance that Thunderwing will target me, Ironhide, Magnus, Grimlock, and the others. What reports I've been seeing indicate that he could well kill all of us." Then he turned his head. "I believe that Thunderwing will be stopped this day, but I fear the cost will be very high. If that happens, if the worst happens....... I want you here, in Iacon."
Hot Rod looked puzzled. "What good can I do here?"
"Lead our people."
Hot Rod's optics widened. "Uh-uh. I don't think I'm ready-"
Prime shook his head. "Nor was I, when Alpha Trion rebuilt me. And if you're about to say something about not being any more ready than you were last time, remember there is a difference between us. My friends were butchered by someone we admired. In that instant, the youthful blinders were ripped from my optics. In your case, you felt that my death was your fault, and added to that was the fact that you were forced into the role of Rodimus Prime before you were mentally ready for it. But you have the experience now.... and the knowledge that you don't have to be me, or act like me..... but be yourself."
Hot Rod stood speechless for a moment, and Prime stopped to wait for him.
Prime started forward again. "I do have one piece of advice, though. Pick an advisor that balances out your weaknesses. There are times you may curse the decision, but it will work out well." Then he activated his commlink. "Very well, Barricade. Put him on."
As a professional tanuki (I'm a Japanese mythological animal, and a good luck charm), I have an alarm clock built into me somewhere. I also look like a stuffed animal. And you thought your life was tough......
3DS Friend Code: 1092-1274-7642
3DS Friend Code: 1092-1274-7642
Autobase
(OOC: Shadow Striker!)
"Acknowledged." Drift told Sideswipe, voice still deep and slightly growling. "I'm on a short distance slightly off Autobase's entrance. We'll get right onto the interrogation part. We need this as quick as possible."
Primus, I'll hate myself in the morning...
Drift's Autobot insignias were covered with Decepticon ones, panels that he had not thrown away but rather kept in subspace. Not for sentimentality reasons, but rather in case his former allegiances could be useful. Drift hated the purple face and all it stood for... yet remembered how, as Deadlock, he had joined the cause so readily.
He sheathed his Greatsword -- no need for such a beautiful weapon to be stained by this task -- and pulled out one of the shorter daggers sheathed on his hips, and waited in the shadows.
______________________________
"Optimus Prime, Gigatron is on." was Barricade's reply.
(OOC: copied from the CC Thread) ""Good day Optimus I thought it was time to set aside our differences to face a common enemy much as we did when we reconquered Cybertron.""
(OOC: Shadow Striker!)
"Acknowledged." Drift told Sideswipe, voice still deep and slightly growling. "I'm on a short distance slightly off Autobase's entrance. We'll get right onto the interrogation part. We need this as quick as possible."
Primus, I'll hate myself in the morning...
Drift's Autobot insignias were covered with Decepticon ones, panels that he had not thrown away but rather kept in subspace. Not for sentimentality reasons, but rather in case his former allegiances could be useful. Drift hated the purple face and all it stood for... yet remembered how, as Deadlock, he had joined the cause so readily.
He sheathed his Greatsword -- no need for such a beautiful weapon to be stained by this task -- and pulled out one of the shorter daggers sheathed on his hips, and waited in the shadows.
______________________________
"Optimus Prime, Gigatron is on." was Barricade's reply.
(OOC: copied from the CC Thread) ""Good day Optimus I thought it was time to set aside our differences to face a common enemy much as we did when we reconquered Cybertron.""
ISS Holding Cells
Firecracker had wandered off, and was busily rewiring the inside of a police transport vehicle that he'd broken into.
Slingshot was surprised for a second as he stared at the newly-reappeared Blades. "I, uh...good to see you too, uh, Graze."
Dropping his voice low enough so that he wouldn't be overheard, he added, "Blades, what are you doing here? Don't tell me you're working for this 'Firecracker' psycho."
___________________________________________
The Decagon
"No, Prowl," Silverbolt hissed, "they're not ready. Their training has barely started and you're already sending them into action."
He stepped into the lift and crossed his arms, taking some petty satisfaction with how thoroughly he loomed over the other Autobot.
"They're all going to die, Prowl, so I hope you've got a damn good reason for throwing their lives away."
___________________________________________
Autobase
(OOC: Even better -- Movie Shadow Striker!)
Sideswipe dragged the unconscious femme to the spot that Drift had indicated, then tossed her face-first on the ground. She let out a low moan, so Sideswipe gave her a swift kick in the chest to help her return to full consciousness.
"Wakey, wakey," he said cruelly. "We need to talk."
"I've got nothing to say," Shadow Striker told him, impressively not showing the slightest hint of grogginess at all. "And you don't have the brains to make me talk, so forget about it. Why don't we just cut to the chase, where you start the frustrated macho beating and I pretend to be intimidated?"
Sideswipe clenched his fist and looked like he was going to backhand her, but he held himself back. "Don't be so impatient," he told her. "We'll get to that. But my boss wants to talk to you first."
"Your boss? You mean a dimwit like you can actually hold down a job? Oh, they must have low standards around here."
"We'll see," Sideswipe told her, stepping out of her field of view so that she'd have an unobstructed view of Drift.
Firecracker had wandered off, and was busily rewiring the inside of a police transport vehicle that he'd broken into.
Slingshot was surprised for a second as he stared at the newly-reappeared Blades. "I, uh...good to see you too, uh, Graze."
Dropping his voice low enough so that he wouldn't be overheard, he added, "Blades, what are you doing here? Don't tell me you're working for this 'Firecracker' psycho."
___________________________________________
The Decagon
"No, Prowl," Silverbolt hissed, "they're not ready. Their training has barely started and you're already sending them into action."
He stepped into the lift and crossed his arms, taking some petty satisfaction with how thoroughly he loomed over the other Autobot.
"They're all going to die, Prowl, so I hope you've got a damn good reason for throwing their lives away."
___________________________________________
Autobase
(OOC: Even better -- Movie Shadow Striker!)
Sideswipe dragged the unconscious femme to the spot that Drift had indicated, then tossed her face-first on the ground. She let out a low moan, so Sideswipe gave her a swift kick in the chest to help her return to full consciousness.
"Wakey, wakey," he said cruelly. "We need to talk."
"I've got nothing to say," Shadow Striker told him, impressively not showing the slightest hint of grogginess at all. "And you don't have the brains to make me talk, so forget about it. Why don't we just cut to the chase, where you start the frustrated macho beating and I pretend to be intimidated?"
Sideswipe clenched his fist and looked like he was going to backhand her, but he held himself back. "Don't be so impatient," he told her. "We'll get to that. But my boss wants to talk to you first."
"Your boss? You mean a dimwit like you can actually hold down a job? Oh, they must have low standards around here."
"We'll see," Sideswipe told her, stepping out of her field of view so that she'd have an unobstructed view of Drift.
Autobase
Drift stalked out of the shadows a little, keeping his face obscured, but the Decepticon insignia on his shoulder clearly visible. He spoke, and his voice was a deep rasp. "Hello, whelp. My name is Deadlock."
More importantly, his optics were glowing in the Decepticons' shade of blood red.
Another leftover from his old body that Drift had kept locked in subspace.
The Autobot twirled his dagger in his hands. "These Autobots are too soft to even think of making a Decepticon like you talk. But I'm different. I know ways to make you talk, girl. I know you're not going to break easily, but you will break."
Drift knelt down on one knee, so he was on eye level with Shadow Striker. "Now, the Decepticon high command isn't really happy with you knockoffs trying to blow up Autobase -- that's our job. And being currently in Iacon, well, I met the Autobots and offered to help make you talk."
Drift brought his dagger up in front of Shadow Striker's face and touched the tip to her lips. "You can open your mouth now and save us a whole lot of effort and pain, or I will make you talk."
Drift stopped talking, ready for the tough I'm-not-fazed-by-your-threats reply that the Imperial would surely give him.
Drift stalked out of the shadows a little, keeping his face obscured, but the Decepticon insignia on his shoulder clearly visible. He spoke, and his voice was a deep rasp. "Hello, whelp. My name is Deadlock."
More importantly, his optics were glowing in the Decepticons' shade of blood red.
Another leftover from his old body that Drift had kept locked in subspace.
The Autobot twirled his dagger in his hands. "These Autobots are too soft to even think of making a Decepticon like you talk. But I'm different. I know ways to make you talk, girl. I know you're not going to break easily, but you will break."
Drift knelt down on one knee, so he was on eye level with Shadow Striker. "Now, the Decepticon high command isn't really happy with you knockoffs trying to blow up Autobase -- that's our job. And being currently in Iacon, well, I met the Autobots and offered to help make you talk."
Drift brought his dagger up in front of Shadow Striker's face and touched the tip to her lips. "You can open your mouth now and save us a whole lot of effort and pain, or I will make you talk."
Drift stopped talking, ready for the tough I'm-not-fazed-by-your-threats reply that the Imperial would surely give him.
-
Heinrad
- Posts: 6282
- Joined: Sun Dec 23, 2001 5:00 am
- Location: Riskin' it all on my Russian Roulette!
The Decagon - Mustering Area:
Ironhide looked over the assembling troops, keeping his face neutral.
Nightbeat and Tracks walked up to him, Nightbeat's face wearing a weary look and Tracks' wearing a nervous one.
"Ain't that bad, Tracks." Ironhide's 'backpack' disconnected, his battle platform transforming and deploying. "Ever'thing'll work out." He tapped a couple of keys on the virtual keyboard behind the phaser rifle mounting unit.
Tracks shrugged. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one who spent the last few months getting braindanced back to sanity."
Nightbeat smirked. "Sanity's overrated. Besides, all we need to defeat Thunderwing is a shuttle with a harpoon cannon." Then the smirk died a little. "Of course, to pull it off, we also need to be in deep space....." He trailed off, watching Ironhide work on the hovering keyboard and the image unfolding on it, and the text hovering beside it. "Particle cannon..... lasers..... What is that?"
Ironhide scowled. "Som'thing Ah'm really hopin' Ah don't have ta use......"
------------------
The Decagon, en route to Prowl's location:
Prime nodded as he strode through the corridors. "Yes, Gigatron. Perhaps after we take care of our common foe, we can achieve a lasting peace."
Ironhide looked over the assembling troops, keeping his face neutral.
Nightbeat and Tracks walked up to him, Nightbeat's face wearing a weary look and Tracks' wearing a nervous one.
"Ain't that bad, Tracks." Ironhide's 'backpack' disconnected, his battle platform transforming and deploying. "Ever'thing'll work out." He tapped a couple of keys on the virtual keyboard behind the phaser rifle mounting unit.
Tracks shrugged. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one who spent the last few months getting braindanced back to sanity."
Nightbeat smirked. "Sanity's overrated. Besides, all we need to defeat Thunderwing is a shuttle with a harpoon cannon." Then the smirk died a little. "Of course, to pull it off, we also need to be in deep space....." He trailed off, watching Ironhide work on the hovering keyboard and the image unfolding on it, and the text hovering beside it. "Particle cannon..... lasers..... What is that?"
Ironhide scowled. "Som'thing Ah'm really hopin' Ah don't have ta use......"
------------------
The Decagon, en route to Prowl's location:
Prime nodded as he strode through the corridors. "Yes, Gigatron. Perhaps after we take care of our common foe, we can achieve a lasting peace."
As a professional tanuki (I'm a Japanese mythological animal, and a good luck charm), I have an alarm clock built into me somewhere. I also look like a stuffed animal. And you thought your life was tough......
3DS Friend Code: 1092-1274-7642
3DS Friend Code: 1092-1274-7642
ISS Holding Cells
"Who? Crackers? Nah, I work for some other guy," Blades told Slingshot. "Long story why I'm even working a gig like this to begin with, but I'm here more or less as a favor. Ooh, and maybe out of boredom, too." He shrugged.
"Him and my boss have some sort of arrangement, some kind of Anti-Con coalition," He jutted his thumb at Firecracker. "But, hey, while we're asking questions, you'll have to tell me what you are doing here once we're clear from this place."
____________
Lower Basement, The Decagon
The lift began its decent to the basement level as Silverbolt launched into his tirade against Prowl. Though he attentively listened, the Autobot General blankly looked forward, not once giving the Aerialbot eye contact.
He predicted such a reaction - it comes with the turf, after all - and it certainly would not be the last he heard before the day was through. Though it was a matter that Prowl felt was not up for debate, for the sake or morale - shaky enough as it was - he deemed it necessary to pander to Silverbolt's base emotions.
"So...you then can appreciate the gravity of the situation?" Prowl dryly said. "Or, perhaps you do not. Permit me to further elucidate the matter, then. We estimate the number of Imperial troops that have so far assembled in Protihex to have reached approximately ______*, the renegade Thunderwing, of course, being among them. More dropships are expected to arrive within the solar cycle. Take into consideration that an Imperial dropshot carries roughly 100* troops each. Furthermore, the Warworld - an Executor class starship equipped with a large hypermatter-based weapon, incidentally - entered Cybertronian orbit only several solar cycles ago, knocking out several of our relay network stations. This is no longer an isolated incident."
(OOC: * Again, arbitrary numbers. They could be bigger.)
When elevator slowed to halt, the double-doors yawned open.
Prowl stepped out onto a balcony that overlooked an immensely wide and open area - the platform itself hung several hundred feet above the facility floor. Below, the basement-level bustled with activity as the facility staff rushed about, while troops marched nearby in neat formations.
Prowl waved the Aerialbot leader to follow him down a flight of stairs. "I am open to suggestions, Silverbolt, extraordinary as that invitation may be, but we are limited on time and a enemy military force that considerable cannot be ignored or allowed to spread farther than it already has. It must be contained. I am sorry, Silverbolt, but we have little choice."
At the bottom, the Autobot Chief Strategist moved along a fluorescent marked path. To his left, a group of ramp agents carefully guided two shuttles to a large industrial lift. To their right, a team of technicians tinkered over an armored transport.
"Fortunately, in spite of the senate and the civilian division preventing us from addressing this matter sooner - which you are more than welcome to take up your grievances with them - we are prepared. As well as we can be, all things considered..."
From the opposite direction, thirty infantrymechs quick-marched in single-file past them, a sergeant at the head barking orders loudly.
"Rest assured, Silverbolt, that you will not be fighting alone," Prowl said. "And, that all our forces - both ground and air - will not be dispatched to the same location. Rather, our forces will be divided into three regiments, each varying in size and, hopefully, experience. Naturally, they will be moved as the situation dictates. The first will remain behind in Iacon. They will serve as our reserve -- and to assist the ISS, AAC and our own in the event that the Imperials - or anyone else for that matter - feel bold. The second detachment - larger than the first - will be sent to Protihex. They will approach from the southwest border, assess the situation and move in. The third is contingent on the inevitable agreement between Optimus Prime and Gigatron."
Prowl led Silverbolt to a large cargo elevator, sectioned off from the rest of the underground facility. The area was cavernous, with no visible ceiling, save the blast doors several stories up.
"Preferable as the option may sound, we cannot rely solely on the Autobot perseverance that our kind is renowned for to win the day," Prowl's voice echoed. "Aside from the fleet of retrofitted shuttles that will be accompanying your squadrons, the situation necessitated that we enlist...a little extra muscle."
As if presenting them to the Aerialbot leader, Prowl extended his hand out to four gigantic forms standing side-by-side -- Galaxy Shuttle and three rebuilt GADEP units, or 'Guardian Robots' as they are colloquially known. They stood inanimately, staring coldly across the elevator shaft like vigilant sentries.
"Who? Crackers? Nah, I work for some other guy," Blades told Slingshot. "Long story why I'm even working a gig like this to begin with, but I'm here more or less as a favor. Ooh, and maybe out of boredom, too." He shrugged.
"Him and my boss have some sort of arrangement, some kind of Anti-Con coalition," He jutted his thumb at Firecracker. "But, hey, while we're asking questions, you'll have to tell me what you are doing here once we're clear from this place."
____________
Lower Basement, The Decagon
The lift began its decent to the basement level as Silverbolt launched into his tirade against Prowl. Though he attentively listened, the Autobot General blankly looked forward, not once giving the Aerialbot eye contact.
He predicted such a reaction - it comes with the turf, after all - and it certainly would not be the last he heard before the day was through. Though it was a matter that Prowl felt was not up for debate, for the sake or morale - shaky enough as it was - he deemed it necessary to pander to Silverbolt's base emotions.
"So...you then can appreciate the gravity of the situation?" Prowl dryly said. "Or, perhaps you do not. Permit me to further elucidate the matter, then. We estimate the number of Imperial troops that have so far assembled in Protihex to have reached approximately ______*, the renegade Thunderwing, of course, being among them. More dropships are expected to arrive within the solar cycle. Take into consideration that an Imperial dropshot carries roughly 100* troops each. Furthermore, the Warworld - an Executor class starship equipped with a large hypermatter-based weapon, incidentally - entered Cybertronian orbit only several solar cycles ago, knocking out several of our relay network stations. This is no longer an isolated incident."
(OOC: * Again, arbitrary numbers. They could be bigger.)
When elevator slowed to halt, the double-doors yawned open.
Prowl stepped out onto a balcony that overlooked an immensely wide and open area - the platform itself hung several hundred feet above the facility floor. Below, the basement-level bustled with activity as the facility staff rushed about, while troops marched nearby in neat formations.
Prowl waved the Aerialbot leader to follow him down a flight of stairs. "I am open to suggestions, Silverbolt, extraordinary as that invitation may be, but we are limited on time and a enemy military force that considerable cannot be ignored or allowed to spread farther than it already has. It must be contained. I am sorry, Silverbolt, but we have little choice."
At the bottom, the Autobot Chief Strategist moved along a fluorescent marked path. To his left, a group of ramp agents carefully guided two shuttles to a large industrial lift. To their right, a team of technicians tinkered over an armored transport.
"Fortunately, in spite of the senate and the civilian division preventing us from addressing this matter sooner - which you are more than welcome to take up your grievances with them - we are prepared. As well as we can be, all things considered..."
From the opposite direction, thirty infantrymechs quick-marched in single-file past them, a sergeant at the head barking orders loudly.
"Rest assured, Silverbolt, that you will not be fighting alone," Prowl said. "And, that all our forces - both ground and air - will not be dispatched to the same location. Rather, our forces will be divided into three regiments, each varying in size and, hopefully, experience. Naturally, they will be moved as the situation dictates. The first will remain behind in Iacon. They will serve as our reserve -- and to assist the ISS, AAC and our own in the event that the Imperials - or anyone else for that matter - feel bold. The second detachment - larger than the first - will be sent to Protihex. They will approach from the southwest border, assess the situation and move in. The third is contingent on the inevitable agreement between Optimus Prime and Gigatron."
Prowl led Silverbolt to a large cargo elevator, sectioned off from the rest of the underground facility. The area was cavernous, with no visible ceiling, save the blast doors several stories up.
"Preferable as the option may sound, we cannot rely solely on the Autobot perseverance that our kind is renowned for to win the day," Prowl's voice echoed. "Aside from the fleet of retrofitted shuttles that will be accompanying your squadrons, the situation necessitated that we enlist...a little extra muscle."
As if presenting them to the Aerialbot leader, Prowl extended his hand out to four gigantic forms standing side-by-side -- Galaxy Shuttle and three rebuilt GADEP units, or 'Guardian Robots' as they are colloquially known. They stood inanimately, staring coldly across the elevator shaft like vigilant sentries.
-
Heinrad
- Posts: 6282
- Joined: Sun Dec 23, 2001 5:00 am
- Location: Riskin' it all on my Russian Roulette!
Decagon, Mustering Area:
Nightbeat took a good look at the battle platform that Ironhide was programming. "Boss?"
Ironhide, still scowling at the display, growled, "What?"
"You ever actually use this thing?"
Ironhide looked up, then shrugged. "'Mebbe a li'l more'n Ah used it b'fore Wheeljack's lab gave me a overhawl. Why?"
Nightbeat peered down at a hardpoint indicator on the right side panel. "You know this can mount weapons, right?"
"'Course it can mount weapons. Awlready got weapons on it."
"Not what's built in." Nightbeat moved over to the display screen and tapped a few of the controls, information coming up and scrolling across. "Virtual hardpoint system? What's a virtual hardpoint system......" He scowled as he read the information. "Energon-based solid holographic weapons system?"
Ironhide sighed. "Some kahnd'a thing Wheeljack was tinkerin' around with b'fore th' 'Cons locked his lab up. Give somebody a energon boost an' they could come up with awl kahnds'a extra weapons." Then the old Autobot chuckled. "Only two problems with it. One, activatin' whutever weapon ya picked drained more energon then the boost give ya, an' two, he never figgered out if the bugs got worked out of it 'cause the planet kahnd'a ran dry. An' there ain't no way Ah'm gonna activate it. One shot'd prob'ly drain th' deck."
"So why not mount normal weapons to the hardpoints?"
Ironhide blinked. Then smiled and transformed to vehicle mode. "Don't let 'em leave without me. Ah gotta hit th' weapon store!" Tires squeeling, the old Autobot took off down the corridor.
Nightbeat took a good look at the battle platform that Ironhide was programming. "Boss?"
Ironhide, still scowling at the display, growled, "What?"
"You ever actually use this thing?"
Ironhide looked up, then shrugged. "'Mebbe a li'l more'n Ah used it b'fore Wheeljack's lab gave me a overhawl. Why?"
Nightbeat peered down at a hardpoint indicator on the right side panel. "You know this can mount weapons, right?"
"'Course it can mount weapons. Awlready got weapons on it."
"Not what's built in." Nightbeat moved over to the display screen and tapped a few of the controls, information coming up and scrolling across. "Virtual hardpoint system? What's a virtual hardpoint system......" He scowled as he read the information. "Energon-based solid holographic weapons system?"
Ironhide sighed. "Some kahnd'a thing Wheeljack was tinkerin' around with b'fore th' 'Cons locked his lab up. Give somebody a energon boost an' they could come up with awl kahnds'a extra weapons." Then the old Autobot chuckled. "Only two problems with it. One, activatin' whutever weapon ya picked drained more energon then the boost give ya, an' two, he never figgered out if the bugs got worked out of it 'cause the planet kahnd'a ran dry. An' there ain't no way Ah'm gonna activate it. One shot'd prob'ly drain th' deck."
"So why not mount normal weapons to the hardpoints?"
Ironhide blinked. Then smiled and transformed to vehicle mode. "Don't let 'em leave without me. Ah gotta hit th' weapon store!" Tires squeeling, the old Autobot took off down the corridor.
As a professional tanuki (I'm a Japanese mythological animal, and a good luck charm), I have an alarm clock built into me somewhere. I also look like a stuffed animal. And you thought your life was tough......
3DS Friend Code: 1092-1274-7642
3DS Friend Code: 1092-1274-7642
ISS Holding Cells
"Nothing to tell," Slingshot shrugged in answer to Blades. "I killed a couple 'Cons, but some nickel-plated, shanix-chasing lawyer thinks we shouldn't do that anymore so he wanted to make an example of me."
His face twisted into an expression of contempt.
"If this is what happens when we let the civilians have a say, give me all-out war any day."
Seeing that Firecracker was coming back in their direction, he asked, "You got any idea what this freak wants with me? He said something about killing 'Cons, but there's got to be more to it than that."
___________________________________________
The Decagon
"You've got plenty of choice, Prowl," Silverbolt snapped. "Choice number one would have been to keep half of the army from retiring thirty seconds after the last Quintesson was gone from Iacon. But you couldn't do that. Choice number two would have been to laugh at Protihex and it's naive communist fantasies and do what had to be done to defend the city whether they liked it or not."
"Choice number three is one that you could make right now. But you won't, because keeping your job is more important to you than saving Autobot lives. And when it's all over, you'll hang the blame on that ridiculous farce of a senate, like your type always do."
Silverbolt was getting worked up, now. He stepped in front of the other Autobot and shoved at him, trying to knock the pompous jackass to the ground.
"You and I both know that when Metroplex died, we recovered over fifty kilos of antimatter from his weapons batteries. We both know that it's locked in a secure vault under the Decagon, and we both know that even a tenth of it would be enough to wipe out every single Imperial soldier in Protihex. Just like we both know that you'll never even think of using it, because it's more politically expedient to throw away the lives of countless half-trained cadets than it is to end a few traitors and deserters who are finally getting what they'd had coming to them from the start."
(OOC: Just so it's clear -- yes, he is suggesting that they blow up the whole city.)
___________________________________________
Moonrock walked into the meeting area, dodging awkwardly around the ankles of the much-larger robots who made up the bulk of the Autobot forces. Ignoring the occasional annoyed Junkion TV quote (which always seemed to involve mice or other insulting comparisons), he weaved his way through the crowd until he caught sight of a familiar face.
"Phaser!" he said with relief. "Glad to see you. Where's the rest of the gang at?"
"On the upper balcony, with all the other Micromasters," the Astro Squad's second in command said wearily. "You know, the place where the the big, flashing signs that said "Micromasters this way" were pointing? The place we always go during briefings so we don't get stepped on?"
"I...uh...I didn't notice," Moonrock admitted.
"I know you didn't," Phaser told him. "That's why I came down here to find you. That's why I always have to come down here to find you. Now follow me and don't get distracted by anything shiny."
"Jeez...no need to be so harsh, Phasey," Moonrock told him. "I was just distracted, is all. It's not like I actually missed anything."
"Yet," Phaser grumbled. "Yet. Now try and keep up." Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the other Autobot had already started to wander off. He grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him along.
"I swear," Phaser told him, "the next time we have a stopover on Earth I'm buying you a leash."
"That's mean," Moonrock told him. "I pay attention when it counts, don't I?"
Phaser laughed. "Right. Good one." He gave Moonrock another tug, adding, "And don't call me 'Phasey' ever again."
___________________________________________
Autobase
Shadow Striker scoffed. "What this is the best you can do? You think that if you threaten the poor, meek girl with a pointy stick she'll collapse into a blubbering mess and tell you everything you want to know?" She smiled at Drift. "I've been cut up by professionals, sword boy. They couldn't break me. You think a pissant throwback like you can do better?"
"Well, there you go," Sideswipe said to Drift, trying to make the sword-wielding supposed Decepticon look like the reasonable one. "I told you she wouldn't. Can I kill her now?"
"Nothing to tell," Slingshot shrugged in answer to Blades. "I killed a couple 'Cons, but some nickel-plated, shanix-chasing lawyer thinks we shouldn't do that anymore so he wanted to make an example of me."
His face twisted into an expression of contempt.
"If this is what happens when we let the civilians have a say, give me all-out war any day."
Seeing that Firecracker was coming back in their direction, he asked, "You got any idea what this freak wants with me? He said something about killing 'Cons, but there's got to be more to it than that."
___________________________________________
The Decagon
"You've got plenty of choice, Prowl," Silverbolt snapped. "Choice number one would have been to keep half of the army from retiring thirty seconds after the last Quintesson was gone from Iacon. But you couldn't do that. Choice number two would have been to laugh at Protihex and it's naive communist fantasies and do what had to be done to defend the city whether they liked it or not."
"Choice number three is one that you could make right now. But you won't, because keeping your job is more important to you than saving Autobot lives. And when it's all over, you'll hang the blame on that ridiculous farce of a senate, like your type always do."
Silverbolt was getting worked up, now. He stepped in front of the other Autobot and shoved at him, trying to knock the pompous jackass to the ground.
"You and I both know that when Metroplex died, we recovered over fifty kilos of antimatter from his weapons batteries. We both know that it's locked in a secure vault under the Decagon, and we both know that even a tenth of it would be enough to wipe out every single Imperial soldier in Protihex. Just like we both know that you'll never even think of using it, because it's more politically expedient to throw away the lives of countless half-trained cadets than it is to end a few traitors and deserters who are finally getting what they'd had coming to them from the start."
(OOC: Just so it's clear -- yes, he is suggesting that they blow up the whole city.)
___________________________________________
Moonrock walked into the meeting area, dodging awkwardly around the ankles of the much-larger robots who made up the bulk of the Autobot forces. Ignoring the occasional annoyed Junkion TV quote (which always seemed to involve mice or other insulting comparisons), he weaved his way through the crowd until he caught sight of a familiar face.
"Phaser!" he said with relief. "Glad to see you. Where's the rest of the gang at?"
"On the upper balcony, with all the other Micromasters," the Astro Squad's second in command said wearily. "You know, the place where the the big, flashing signs that said "Micromasters this way" were pointing? The place we always go during briefings so we don't get stepped on?"
"I...uh...I didn't notice," Moonrock admitted.
"I know you didn't," Phaser told him. "That's why I came down here to find you. That's why I always have to come down here to find you. Now follow me and don't get distracted by anything shiny."
"Jeez...no need to be so harsh, Phasey," Moonrock told him. "I was just distracted, is all. It's not like I actually missed anything."
"Yet," Phaser grumbled. "Yet. Now try and keep up." Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the other Autobot had already started to wander off. He grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him along.
"I swear," Phaser told him, "the next time we have a stopover on Earth I'm buying you a leash."
"That's mean," Moonrock told him. "I pay attention when it counts, don't I?"
Phaser laughed. "Right. Good one." He gave Moonrock another tug, adding, "And don't call me 'Phasey' ever again."
___________________________________________
Autobase
Shadow Striker scoffed. "What this is the best you can do? You think that if you threaten the poor, meek girl with a pointy stick she'll collapse into a blubbering mess and tell you everything you want to know?" She smiled at Drift. "I've been cut up by professionals, sword boy. They couldn't break me. You think a pissant throwback like you can do better?"
"Well, there you go," Sideswipe said to Drift, trying to make the sword-wielding supposed Decepticon look like the reasonable one. "I told you she wouldn't. Can I kill her now?"
(OOC: @ Optimusskids - I really, really, really don't want to sound even more naggy than I already do, but...I'm not sure if you've checked in on this thread recently, but we're kind of depending on Optimus and Gigatron's discussion to get this army up and moving.)
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ISS Holding Cells
"Wasn't really forthright with the details. Pft, big surprise, right?" Blades told Slingshot. "All he said was that there's some important job that his boss absolutely had to have you on. Haven't a clue who this guy would be, but it's supposedly someone high up in the Autobot hierarchy."
Blades looked to Firecracker as he returned. "We ready to go? Probably shouldn't be hanging around here much longer. Someone from next door at ISS HQ is bound to come snooping around."
_________________
Lower Basement, The Decagon
(OOC: Just in case you already read this, I made some revisions here and there. They were important to the overall tone of this argument.)
Prowl stumbled back one step when Silverbolt shoved him, but quickly regained his footing.
"You will not raise your hands to me again," Prowl stated in a matter-of-fact fashion. There was no evidence of anger in his tone, let alone upon on his face.
Prowl straightened his posture and continued. "Aside from being grossly unethical, what you propose would violate dozens, if not hundreds, of armed conflict and international welfare laws." Prowl looked up undaunted at the Aerialbot. "Indeed, what price for a clear conscience, but I cannot willfully endorse an act that is, for all intents and purposes, mass murder. These are not simply a scant few "traitors" or renegades that you are suggesting, but also hundreds of non-aligned civilians and fellow Autobots currently stationed in Protihex."
Prowl wasn't particularly mindful of these individual's lives, though he certainly gave the illusion that he was. In fact, he felt that there was a degree of truth in Silverbolt's statement, emotionally charged and reckless as it was, though Prowl would never admit that outright. Appearances, after all, must be kept up and at the end of the day, Prowl still answered to Optimus Prime.
Nevertheless, laws were designed to be obeyed*. Circumvented when necessary, yes, but generally obeyed.
(OOC: * Especially when they're Prowl's rules.)
"A basic tenet of Autobot doctrine; we do not forfeit the lives we are obligated to project to save our own. Even if we did, Silverbolt, we certainly would not do so based on the misgivings of a single individual. Your cadets swore an oath upon induction into the Autobot military - which does not bear repeating as you should know its passages intimately. They know their duties. As do I... You, however, do not."
Prowl shook his head.
"I realize now that I may have erroneously chosen you as a squadron leader. Clearly you are not mentally fit to serve," Prowl said. "You are hereby relieved of duty, Silverbolt."
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ISS Holding Cells
"Wasn't really forthright with the details. Pft, big surprise, right?" Blades told Slingshot. "All he said was that there's some important job that his boss absolutely had to have you on. Haven't a clue who this guy would be, but it's supposedly someone high up in the Autobot hierarchy."
Blades looked to Firecracker as he returned. "We ready to go? Probably shouldn't be hanging around here much longer. Someone from next door at ISS HQ is bound to come snooping around."
_________________
Lower Basement, The Decagon
(OOC: Just in case you already read this, I made some revisions here and there. They were important to the overall tone of this argument.)
Prowl stumbled back one step when Silverbolt shoved him, but quickly regained his footing.
"You will not raise your hands to me again," Prowl stated in a matter-of-fact fashion. There was no evidence of anger in his tone, let alone upon on his face.
Prowl straightened his posture and continued. "Aside from being grossly unethical, what you propose would violate dozens, if not hundreds, of armed conflict and international welfare laws." Prowl looked up undaunted at the Aerialbot. "Indeed, what price for a clear conscience, but I cannot willfully endorse an act that is, for all intents and purposes, mass murder. These are not simply a scant few "traitors" or renegades that you are suggesting, but also hundreds of non-aligned civilians and fellow Autobots currently stationed in Protihex."
Prowl wasn't particularly mindful of these individual's lives, though he certainly gave the illusion that he was. In fact, he felt that there was a degree of truth in Silverbolt's statement, emotionally charged and reckless as it was, though Prowl would never admit that outright. Appearances, after all, must be kept up and at the end of the day, Prowl still answered to Optimus Prime.
Nevertheless, laws were designed to be obeyed*. Circumvented when necessary, yes, but generally obeyed.
(OOC: * Especially when they're Prowl's rules.)
"A basic tenet of Autobot doctrine; we do not forfeit the lives we are obligated to project to save our own. Even if we did, Silverbolt, we certainly would not do so based on the misgivings of a single individual. Your cadets swore an oath upon induction into the Autobot military - which does not bear repeating as you should know its passages intimately. They know their duties. As do I... You, however, do not."
Prowl shook his head.
"I realize now that I may have erroneously chosen you as a squadron leader. Clearly you are not mentally fit to serve," Prowl said. "You are hereby relieved of duty, Silverbolt."
Autobase
An expected answer. Drift had given those replies himself when he was captured by both Autobots and Decepticons.
"I am not threatening you."
Drift's red optics narrowed. He knew he wouldn't be able to wake up with this in the morning, he knew he would doubt his self-control forevermore, that the likes of Sideswipe or Crosshairs wouldn't look at him the same after this, but Iacon is at stake.
The entire army, heck, all of Cybertron, is at stake.
Hang the rules.
Drift let out a sigh as he pulled his dagger away from the Imperial's face... then, in one, fluid motion, stabbed his blade onto Shadow Striker's eye, attempting to gouge out the eyeball.
"If you threaten, you won't go through with the threat. Tell me where the bomb is!" Drift growled, putting her face close to Shadow Striker's other eye.
In his head, Deadlock laughed.
An expected answer. Drift had given those replies himself when he was captured by both Autobots and Decepticons.
"I am not threatening you."
Drift's red optics narrowed. He knew he wouldn't be able to wake up with this in the morning, he knew he would doubt his self-control forevermore, that the likes of Sideswipe or Crosshairs wouldn't look at him the same after this, but Iacon is at stake.
The entire army, heck, all of Cybertron, is at stake.
Hang the rules.
Drift let out a sigh as he pulled his dagger away from the Imperial's face... then, in one, fluid motion, stabbed his blade onto Shadow Striker's eye, attempting to gouge out the eyeball.
"If you threaten, you won't go through with the threat. Tell me where the bomb is!" Drift growled, putting her face close to Shadow Striker's other eye.
In his head, Deadlock laughed.
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optimusskids
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Heinrad
- Posts: 6282
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- Location: Riskin' it all on my Russian Roulette!
Decagon, Armory:
Ironhide stood next to his deployed battle platform, the storage section panels open, looking at a padd marked 'INSTRUCTIONS'. Then he typed a command into the holodisplay on the battle platform.
The display showed a wireframe representation of the battle platform in standard deployment mode, arrows pointing at two hardpoints, one on the left, one on the right, aft of the particle cannons. Then the display image changed to a wireframe representation of himselfan arrow making the hardpoint mount on the plate extending over his left shoulder.
Then the display changed again. The new image, identified as 'Demolotion Mode', made him wince. Then the pain of looking at the image died a little as he realized that there was a new hardpoint opened up, behind one of the demolition mode's heavy laser cannons. Switching the display back to it's normal imaging mode, he moved over to the shelves. "Lessee whut we got......"
**********************
Decagon, almost at Prowl's location:
"I say a coalition is a fine idea, Gigatron. I will be leaving Iacon shortly to join you in the field.'
Ironhide stood next to his deployed battle platform, the storage section panels open, looking at a padd marked 'INSTRUCTIONS'. Then he typed a command into the holodisplay on the battle platform.
The display showed a wireframe representation of the battle platform in standard deployment mode, arrows pointing at two hardpoints, one on the left, one on the right, aft of the particle cannons. Then the display image changed to a wireframe representation of himselfan arrow making the hardpoint mount on the plate extending over his left shoulder.
Then the display changed again. The new image, identified as 'Demolotion Mode', made him wince. Then the pain of looking at the image died a little as he realized that there was a new hardpoint opened up, behind one of the demolition mode's heavy laser cannons. Switching the display back to it's normal imaging mode, he moved over to the shelves. "Lessee whut we got......"
**********************
Decagon, almost at Prowl's location:
"I say a coalition is a fine idea, Gigatron. I will be leaving Iacon shortly to join you in the field.'
As a professional tanuki (I'm a Japanese mythological animal, and a good luck charm), I have an alarm clock built into me somewhere. I also look like a stuffed animal. And you thought your life was tough......
3DS Friend Code: 1092-1274-7642
3DS Friend Code: 1092-1274-7642
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optimusskids
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- Joined: Mon Dec 27, 2004 11:24 am
- Location: UK
The Decagon, Mustering Area
Searchlight rubbed his neck.
Being nearly killed, left as a head, and then sewn back on to a body that was not his... it gave the Throttlebot quite a lot to think about. How career as a security guard isn't really his thing.
How, in retrospect, lucky he was to be alive after that stupid stunt of trying to blow himself up with his own spark energy.
He was back in his own body (well, a recrafted one, thanks to some string-pulling and calling out of old favours by Windcharger, Primus bless him).
Windcharger himself was walking a short distance ahead. For lack of anything better to do until Optimus Prime gives orders, the withdrawn Searchlight trotted after the now-taller Minibot, who himself seems happy with his new body. A near-death experience had not been good for Searchlight's
Damn Wheeljack and his inventions, Searchlight mused. He took in the sight with his observant optics. There were so many new recruits and cadets that were even greener than Searchlight. There were a few familiar faces, though. Nightbeat and Tracks were talking in one part of the area, the massive Broadside transformed and landed, scowling.
Briefly Searchlight wondered why Broadside was not with the Wreckers dispatched to Protihex, then decided it was none of his business.
Windcharger was evidently walking towards Nightbeat and Tracks, so Searchlight followed behind the former Minibot.
Windcharger opened the conversation. "Hey, guys. Heard anything about how we're going to save the world?"
Searchlight was observing Windcharger's back that he nearly tripped on Moonrock and Phaser. "Pardon me." Searchlight mumbled as he sidestepped away as he followed Windcharger.
_____________________
A red firetruck whose rear half was painted in yellow with black stripes pulled into the Decagon's mustering area. This rear portion disappeared into subspace as the frontal red part transformed... into Optimus Prime.
If Optimus Prime was a firetruck.
If Optimus Prime was red with gold and black highlights.
If Optimus Prime was a lowly Autobot captain named Pyro.
Pyro sighed, as he gazed around the Mustering Area. He liked the sense of all the Autobots gathering together like this, waiting for the great, mighty Optimus Prime to give a speech, to lead them into the fray to deliver justice and freedom. Freedom. It's the right of all sentient beings. Every Autobot must have known that. And to give oneself utterly for that cause, even to death...
Pyro nodded to everyone that looked at him, walking to find someone he recognized. Altihex was pretty bad, but it really was nothing compared to what Optimus Prime and his original crew had been through.
Searchlight rubbed his neck.
Being nearly killed, left as a head, and then sewn back on to a body that was not his... it gave the Throttlebot quite a lot to think about. How career as a security guard isn't really his thing.
How, in retrospect, lucky he was to be alive after that stupid stunt of trying to blow himself up with his own spark energy.
He was back in his own body (well, a recrafted one, thanks to some string-pulling and calling out of old favours by Windcharger, Primus bless him).
Windcharger himself was walking a short distance ahead. For lack of anything better to do until Optimus Prime gives orders, the withdrawn Searchlight trotted after the now-taller Minibot, who himself seems happy with his new body. A near-death experience had not been good for Searchlight's
Damn Wheeljack and his inventions, Searchlight mused. He took in the sight with his observant optics. There were so many new recruits and cadets that were even greener than Searchlight. There were a few familiar faces, though. Nightbeat and Tracks were talking in one part of the area, the massive Broadside transformed and landed, scowling.
Briefly Searchlight wondered why Broadside was not with the Wreckers dispatched to Protihex, then decided it was none of his business.
Windcharger was evidently walking towards Nightbeat and Tracks, so Searchlight followed behind the former Minibot.
Windcharger opened the conversation. "Hey, guys. Heard anything about how we're going to save the world?"
Searchlight was observing Windcharger's back that he nearly tripped on Moonrock and Phaser. "Pardon me." Searchlight mumbled as he sidestepped away as he followed Windcharger.
_____________________
A red firetruck whose rear half was painted in yellow with black stripes pulled into the Decagon's mustering area. This rear portion disappeared into subspace as the frontal red part transformed... into Optimus Prime.
If Optimus Prime was a firetruck.
If Optimus Prime was red with gold and black highlights.
If Optimus Prime was a lowly Autobot captain named Pyro.
Pyro sighed, as he gazed around the Mustering Area. He liked the sense of all the Autobots gathering together like this, waiting for the great, mighty Optimus Prime to give a speech, to lead them into the fray to deliver justice and freedom. Freedom. It's the right of all sentient beings. Every Autobot must have known that. And to give oneself utterly for that cause, even to death...
Pyro nodded to everyone that looked at him, walking to find someone he recognized. Altihex was pretty bad, but it really was nothing compared to what Optimus Prime and his original crew had been through.