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| - Hellbender - War Room The War Room of the Hellbender has seen better days. A huge table is laid out in the centre of this spacious room, covered in maps of planets and star systems. Most of the maps have holes ripped in them from sharp implements being stabbed into various strategic locations. There is an old grotty couch in the corner with a pile of ancient 'Readers Digest' magazines. A Mecha-Noodle dispenser is situated in the corner, and there is a target hanging on the far wall. The wall around it is dotted in plasma burns, but the target itself is pristine. Maps are indeed laid out on the War Room table, strewn across it's surface.. covering any possible indication that there -is- a table underneath. Cyclonus towers over the top of the maps, hands placed in front of him.. while his gaze is centered on a specific area on the documents. Large clusters of dwellings are circled repeatedly with red lines. Around him, drones and gumbies are in a mass of constant shifting and moving. Bringing in status updates on the deforestation, Hellbender repair analysis, and other reports from beyond this small planet's confines. Ratbat hangs, his claws clutching to an overhanging fixture in a way that bathes him only in half-light. The chyropteran yawns, releasing his hold and flipping on fall to land in the illuminated areas of Cyclonus' map at the shadow's edge. The tape emits a high pitched chirp. The doors to the war room slide open, revealing Snaptrap, who seems to have undergone a new paint job. While the light magenta and cyan are still there, the tone has changed considerably. The magenta looks more maroon, and the cyan has a certain forest green to it. There's also camouflage in the form of brown all over him. In here, he stands out. But in the forest climate of Femax, he would be able to blend in far better than in his usual colours, which suit an aquatic environment. In one hand, he's clutching what appears to be a Femaxian rifle. "What seems to be the trouble?" The upper ridge over Cyclonus' optic raises, ever so slightly at the two 'entrances'. Slowly backing away from the table, the current Decepticon leader takes a glance at a gumbie with a report. He looks over it quickly, tucking the subspace anomalies away for further introspection later. "Snaptrap." Cyclonus denotes, waving him over gently. "Tell me, why has the logging equipment in sector F-3296 been having.. difficulties?" Giving Ratbat a courteous nod, the Decepticon Overlord extends his forearm for the tape to latch onto. Ratbat extends his wings to full length. While his biological counterparts have leathery wings between each digit, Ratbat displays resilient graphene. As Cyclonus offers his gauntlet, the nocturnal spy folds the wings back inward. The tape compacts his form into a crouch before a jolted leap sends his surprisingly light frame bounding unto the forearm. Perched there, the bat shifts it's milky gaze unto the Seacon. "Ah, yes, that" Snaptrap says, as he comes around, looking at the map to ensure that Cyclonus is reading the sector properly. Some Decepticons, who should remain nameless, have had trouble with that. "There are a number of factors, delaying our operations in that area. It is a very old forest. In this case, old trees means thick trees. The water basin beneath the ground is also quite low, so the roots run deep. Yet there seems to be another shallow basin, creating a hodgepodge of twisted vines, minor fauna, rocks, it's difficult to get a firm footing. Some of the troops assigned to there have nicknamed it the Butcher's Swamp, although few know I am aware of that nickname." Throwing his other arm out, Cyclonus juts his index finger out at the map.. misjudging the distance and actually penetrating the table's surface with the digit. "This is the only thing standing between us.." the Decepticon Overlord trails, scraping his finger across the map and table. Ripping it's way through the material and leaving a permanent indention into the table surface. All the way over to another area circled, a large mountainous region. "And the prize, the Golden Realm." Lifting his arm, Cyclonus gives Ratbat a gentle pat and pet.. while considering the options. "I want double shifts, round the clock crews working at plausible solutions. This.. problem, needs to be expedited. If warranted, a specialist will be sent for." The Decepticon afixes the Seacon with a stare, "Will that be warranted.. Snaptrap?" Ratbat unfolds a single wing, ducking his head beneath it as he begins gnawing away at something. Rarely, if ever, grooming himself -- Ratbat finds the jungle mites of Femax instilling a more feral mindset on him. Snaptrap for a brief moment studies the falconer-falcon-like relationship between Cyclonus and Ratbat, but he uses that as time to consider his options. He reaches for one of the terminals, "What were their names . . ." he muses, as he scours the data banks. Highlighting and isolating one, first a picture of a Decepticone named "Carbine" appears on one screen, soon to be followed by "Logger", and then finally by "Forester". "These three would certainly help to expedite matters in that region. Although I have not seen any of them since . . . before my Quintesson excursions. Do they still function?" "Such matters.." Cyclonus replies, lifting the forearm up to his shoulder so Ratbat can re-perch there. With the other hand, he draws out a datapad and hands it to Snaptrap. "Are in your hands. Do not fail me, Snaptrap." Folding the arms up behind his back, the Decepticon paces the length of the table. "I'll be off planet for at least six standard cycles, there is a.. personal matter I must attend to on Earth. Before my return, I expect the deforestation phase complete. You are to report to me, and only me when you reach the first signs of native fortifications." Ratbat moves to Cyclonus' pauldron accordingly, remaining there as the Decepticon paces away from Snaptrap. The bat's large ears perk, listening intently to the dialogue between the two. Snaptrap is already checking on the system, though he's limited out here in the field, and has to establish a link with Cybertron to check on the status of those three. He ignores Cyclonus' pacing. "Off planet you say? I hope you don't kill anyone I know." And then his typing stops suddenly, and turns from the console to look at Cyclonus. The Femaxian rifle he was carrying rests on the table. "I can certainly report to you when I encounter it /again/, if you so desire?" "It?" Cyclonus questions, pacing halted and a swift about face brings him back towards Snaptrap. Ratbat tilts his head. The cassette portion of his torso turning clock-wise at the circular breasts, erronously assuming that Cyclonus had misheard. Snaptrap's voice replays. "I can certainly report to you when I encounter it /again/, if you so desire?" "Native fortifications," Snaptrap replies, and then without being prompted to, explains, "We encountered a old guard post, hidden in the forest. Nasty business that. They'd built it adjacent to a tar pit. I would have preferred to take some alive, for interrogation purposes, but we had to settle for ensuring that they did not get out a distress call. We can only hope that they were only meant to check in if something was wrong." Cyclonus sighs, nodding to a gumbie delivering another status report from Cybertron. "Snaptrap, understand that you are a tool. A highly effective and destructive one at that, but a tool nonetheless." Skimming the report, the Decepticon Overlord gives it to another gumbie for filing purposes. "Leave the thinking to other, more suited superiors." Cyclonus packs up what little personal effects he has around the table, mainly just grabbing up his diamond-boron carbide sword, and makes for the War Room's exit. Over his shoulder, he calls "Report the astro-second you make contact, and hold for further instruction." And before his eventual exit, Cyclonus asides to Ratbat quietly. Cyclonus whispers, "You are to remain here, and watch over the self deluded Seacon for treacherous behaivor and self serving actions. Likewise, notify me immediately of anything.. suspicious." to Ratbat. Snaptrap allows such disrespect to go unchallenged. He stands, he heard everything from the higher ranking Decepticon, but his expression betrays no emotion, and remains unchanged. He's been given new orders, and will comply. Beneath the exterior, there is a lot going on, but there's nothing more to be said on the matter for now. Ratbat chirps.
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