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| - IC Time on Earth: Sat Jan 11 22:14:00 2035 The bright lights in here, though somewhat harsh in their cold white purity, are still a welcome change from the perpetual twilight outside. The central hall leads from the entranceway and widens into a circular chamber here, where various doors and passageways branch off. The building shows the signs of hasty construction and improvised materials, made mostly of the natural black rock of this planet reinforced sparingly with steel. A pair of sliding doors set in the wall leads to a lift to the other levels. Fleet(#6048) Soundwave(#29) North leads to DHQ Throne Room. Northeast leads to DHQ Repair Bay. Northwest leads to DHQ Combat Room. South leads to DHQ Spacebridge Chamber. Southwest leads to DHQ Strategy Room. East leads to DHQ Communications Center. Lift Doors Entry Gates Fleet, the dancing wingman, hasn't been visible for a while. Really, he re-achieved what was always his goal: invisibility through unimportance. He took the assignments no one else likes because there's no glory in it, and got as far away from the center of action as he could. In fact, he's none-too-thrilled with being here now; Charr usually qualifies as 'out of the way,' but it's been known to suddenly become far too close to the 'center' of action for Fleet's taste. However, he had a delivery to make (his qualifications as a pilot means he sometimes ends up transporting stuff, while his qualifications as a Seeker mean he can double as guard for what he's moving), and so he's here. Contrail is here to pick up some sensitive files that need a hand delivery. They're classified enough that Contrail needs to go pick them up herself as opposed to sending a flunky to get them, but... there's a layover, due to stellar alignment. Spacebridge won't be back up for a few hours. So Contrail is lurking around Charr, looking to maybe spring a randomized drug test on someone, like... She tries to clap a hand on the yellow guy and declares, "By order of the Division of Intelligence, you have been selected for a randomized drug test! Please come along quietly." Fleet jumps, though only very, very slightly, then turns. He peers at the strange Triple-Changer, one he's not familiar with, and then raises a brow-ridge. Then he shrugs a single wing and the associated shoulder and answers. "Very well, er..." with the 'er', he is clearly prompting for a name or a title. A routine bug sweep by Decepticon Intel own Commander, brought Soundwave to Charr. He looks pretty banged up still, large Dinobird imprints on his chest where the Autobot rended him...and then Soundwave got blown up, but that was fun too. He steps south from the Throne Room, his gait slow but measured. It wouldn't do to show weakness in Char. Not here especially. Unsurprisingly bugs were found in Galvatron's throne room. Fortunately they were still his, so everything was in order. He approaches the main atrium and hallway, all business, all the time. He stops a Seeker, going about his standard duties. "STOP. LORD GALVATRON REQUIRES PERSONAL ATTENDANTS. YOU WILL SUFFICE. YOU WILL AWAIT HERE AT THE THRONE ROOM'S ENTRANCE, IN A KNEELING POSITION UNTIL LORD GALVATRON ARRIVES." The Seeker blanches, "M..Me be Galvatron's servant...uhm...dang, I'm really not wanting to die here." Soundwave raises a hand, "WHICH IS WHY YOU WILL WAIT FOR HIM KNEELING, HERE, WHEN HE ARRIVES." Slowly the Seeker drops to a knee, in good servitude, "You mean, like this? Ugh, my joints are freezing up...how long is it going to be?" As Soundwave walks away, he says offhanded, "NO MORE THAN TWO OR THREE MEGACYCLES." The yellow guy is cold to the touch, like ice. Contrail releases him, steps back, and stares at Fleet, like she's seen a ghost. She stutters out falteringly, "...Fleet?" She stares at him some more, and then she draws herself up to her full height, martial and proud, "Contrail, Director of Intelligence." Oh, then there's Soundwave down the hall. She bows and greets respectfully, "Lord Soundwave. I am pleased to see you well again." Fleet glances up as Soundwave arrives. His optics widen faintly in alarm as he calls for a Seeker to stop to attend Galvatron, then relaxes when it's clear that it's some OTHER random Seeker going about his duties that's being tagged for *this* one. He gives Contrail a confused look, then straightens and offers both Soundwave and Contrail proper Decepticon salutes. "Erm. Sirs," he greets, rather lamely. Damn it, how did he end up in the middle of this? Soundwave responds, "DIRECTOR CONTRAIL. THE SPACEBRIDGE'S NEXT JUNCTURE HAS BEEN RECALCUATED. MAGNETIC STORM NEBULA NEAR PLOTTDEVUCIA HAS DELAYED TRANSIT FOR A FULL SWEEP." He raises a warning finger to her, ""ENSURE YOU ARE PUNCTUAL IN MEETING NITROUS ARMAMENTS SHIPMENT. THE MANIFEST IS TO BE RECORDED AND APPROVED, BUT THE CONTENTS ARE NOT TO BE OPENED." Certainly Contrail has heard this four times already in various forms of messaging. FLASHBACK TO YESTERDAY: Contrail in the oil bath, when a radio transmission intrudes... Soundwave turns to look over Fleet. "SEEKER 120043, FLEET. YOUR MISSION PARAMETERS ARE TO BE REASSIGNED AS OF THIS MOMENT. YOU WILL PROVIDE DIRECTOR CONTRAIL SUPPORT IN HER MISSION." He looks back to Contrail, "ALL PARTIES ARE TO BE SWEPT FOR BUGS, AND MARKERS TO ENSURE NO AUTOBOT TRACKERS ARE ENABLED IN ACCORDANCE WITH POLICY. DECONTAMINATION PROCESS WILL TAKE 17 HOURS.)]" So much for having a free day! Fleet's optics widen in horror, but to his credit, his answer is a steady, "Yes, sir." And this sort of things, ladles and jellyspoons, is why Fleet hates making deliveries to Charr. This is the thing about having Soundwave for a boss. Contrail gets drafted to do weird stuff at weird times. She agrees, "Yes, of course, my lord" Then she looks sidelong at Fleet, and she asks politely, "Are you certain that you want Fleet, my Lord?" Fleet looks sidelong at Contrail. On the one hand, he'd happily get out of the mission if he can, but on the other hand, having a member of Decepticon Intelligence think that he's untrustworthy or just generally unworthy might be dangerous to his survival. Soundwave responds as monotone as always, "FLEET'S RECORD IS THAT OF DEPENDABILITY, HE WILL SUFFICE AS WELL SINCE HE IS EXPENDABLE." Almost immediately, he looks back to Fleet, "YOU WILL NEED ENERGON VACCIENES, SERIES 2-14, SEE TO IT IMMEDIATELY OR YOU WILL BE DENIED AS AN ATTACHE FOR DIRECTOR CONTRAIL'S MISSION." ... Expendable. Does that mean that he's to be killed if he goes on this mission? A sort of, 'Now that you've seen this, we'll have to kill you,' thing? Well, in that case, Fleet will certainly have to keep an optic out for a way to get out of it! Still, to Soundwave, all he does is incline his head in a respectful nod and answers, "As you command, sir." Could it really be as simple as not getting his vaccines? Maybe he can use incompatibility with his Dead-universe systems as an excuse... "He's erratic and got himself stranded on Alkor Zephyr for years," Contrail mutters. "In any case... let's go do his drug tests before we do the bug sweep." She looks towards the repair bay. Fleet doesn't argue with Contrail, because he really can't. Although in fairness to him, that area space is ridiculously difficult to navigate. Or at least was. What with the eight suns and all. However, instead of pointing this out, he simply inclines his head towards Director Contrail and follows her to the repair bay. Fleet :(Fleet was totally brainwashed. That's the official story. You move northeast to the DHQ Repair Bay. This is an L-shaped room, stocked with plenty of repair supplies. Several repair tables line the front portion of the room, shining antiseptically clean. Every shining tool and piece of equipment is stored neatly in place...including several unusual and complex monitor machines which seem to have been built by hand. The medic in charge here must be a meticulous neat-freak who is very serious about his job. A dark, charred spot marks the floor in the rear of the room. Stalker(#9824) Southwest Fleet arrives from the DHQ Central Hallway to the southwest. Fleet has arrived. Soundwave arrives from the DHQ Central Hallway to the southwest. Soundwave has arrived. Contrail calls out loudly, "Stalker! Randomized drugs test on Fleet! Also, a full bug sweep on... Fleet and myself." She sags. "And energon vaccine SERIES 2-14. The both of us." Soundwave actually follows along after the two, surprisingly. Then again the Tape Commander prefers that he does his own dirty work, to ensure it is done right. He is just about to bark out the same orders, but Contrail's on the ball. He instead questions, "RANDOMIZED DRUG TEST?" Hmm. Damn it. This is going to make it a lot more difficult for Fleet to get out of those vaccines... For the moment, the yellow Seeker remains at attention, however. The drug test, at least, holds little fear for him. Carjack has arrived. Carjack strides in looking for someone to fix. Or break. Fleet is sort of standing at attention off to the side. As much off to the side as he can get away with being, anyway. He is trying his best to be invisible via being a Seeker and therefore totally background dressing and not worth paying attention to. As Stalker retrieves the vaccines, Soundwave handles them to examine them personally. Stalker produces a specimen cup, "I'm going to need you to lubricate this cup...and a sample of your energon..." A third beaker is added to the other two, "And if you could leak some wiper fluid into this one, that's a must, and...." Stalker contemplates the petri dish, exhaling through his filters, almost nonplussed, "And get some grease in here somewhere..." But that's why Carjack just stomps into the repair bay in person a few moments later. "Okay, what the slag is going on in here that people are worried about ener-shots?" Contrail is just standing around, looking moderately annoyed and anxious. She explains to Soundwave, "Fleet needs a random drug testing because..." she was bored and stuck on Charr on layover? "...for the health of the Empire!" Then she looks to Carjack. "Oh, you're stuck here, too? I just... I dunno, my life's been pretty weird? I could have vaccine conflicts, and series 2-14 is..." She shifts uncomfortably. Soundwave actually seems to take this seriously. "ENERGON CONFLICTS ARE UNACCEPTABLE." The Tape Commander turns to Carjack, "CARJACK, YOU WILL ENSURE DIRECTOR CONTRAIL DOES NOT HAVE CONFLICTS FOR THIS MISSION ASSIGNMENT, ENERGON REACTIONS ARE UNACCEPTABLE, AS ARE INFECTIONS. SEE TO IT IMMEDIATELY." Fleet accepts all the containers and dips his head forward in a faint nod. He frowns at Contrail's concerns over 2-14, however, and clears his throat faintly. "Erm. Excuse me. But if 2-14 is... problematic... I should point out that there is some non-Cybertronian technology hybridized with my systems. It's detailed in my records." He then gets to work on providing the samples. What with being naked robots and all, we're assuming no taboos related to publicly providing energon samples and the like. Also, when Carjack was outside, there was a Seeker on one knee before Galvatron's throne room, complaining about how his joints have locked up on him. So there's that too. Carjack shrugs his shoulders a bit. It's just exaggerated because of the tall rectangular shape of them. "No, but Cybertron has been well in hand with Dustoff and Harrow, and this place is a smeggin' wreck because no one bothers," he answers Contrail. Then at the rumble of that monotone he turns and jabs a finger at Soundwave. "And you. Keeping it classified off the radio where Hubcrap or any of those other nosy Autobot brats is fine and good, but if you want soldiers to be safe from something like 2-14 you better start coughing up some specifics so medical staff can actually do their job." Clearly this is mech who's not going to take gruff from Soundwave just because of the tapedeck's elevated position in the command chain. Soundwave now has to deal with THIS. It's not bad enough Sky Lynx danced on his chestplate, or that Contrail blew him up when he ordered it, but now he's questioned in front of his second in command. He leans forward, a little over Carjack, "YOU HAVE YOUR ORDERS, CARJACK. YOU CAN EITHER DO IT YOURSELF, OR I CAN." Ahh torture. He continues, "OPERATIONS HAS NO JURSDICTION OVER THIS OPERATION, WHICH IS OVERSEEN BY LORD GALVATRON HIMSELF." There's the classic threat, "IF YOU WISH TO QUESTION HIS DECISIONS, I'LL BE READY TO PROMOTE STALKER TO YOUR VACATED POSITION IMMEDIATELY." Stalker pauses, then coughs softly, "Uhhmm, you can leave me out of this...really.." ... Galvatron is paying attention to this mission? Fleet's wings droop a little as he hands his assortment of liquid samples to Stalker. He doesn't really use any cyber-drugs, although some of his systems use slightly non-standard chemical make-ups in order to allow them to be effective in his ultra-cold body. Avalanche has arrived. Contrail is very, very torn. Carjack (re)built her. If anything goes wrong, Carjack's her best chance to be repaired properly... considering that he brought her back from the brink of death, she knows that he can do it. Soundwave's a legend, though. A finger in every energon pie. But Contrail's already pretty unsure about 2-14. She stalks around to stand next to Carjack, hands on her hips, and she says, "Carjack is not being unreasonable, Lord Soundwave. My energon is unusually acidic, there's trace amounts of Unicronium in my armor, and I'm a Triple-Changer. Carjack needs to know why I need the 2-14, because if you're thinking a nonstandard usage... it might not work at all." Padding into the room, Avalanche just makes his way past a few Decepticon guards. He doesn't really say much, that is until he notices the rather large crowd that seems to have gathered. He can't help but notice that Soundwave and Carjack are about face to no face. "Wow, you two are being so adorable." A small chuckle leaves the massive tiger mech. "Should I leave, and dim the lights a bit?" Regardless of what's going on, Avalanche needs to make sure that his entire form has been purged of Prowl's acid shells. Heck, he may need to hit the decontamination chambers a second time! Carjack continues to just glare for a long moment at Soundwave after he delivers his ultimatum. "Hrmph. Some things haven't changed around here." Really hard to tell if that's sarcastic or not, but the medic doesn't press the matter. There's a few mutters under his breath about being expected to work without being told why but it's low enough under his breath that no one other than Soundwave would hear it as he opens his chest compartment and rummages out a canister. "You're just damn luck I'm -good- at working on limited details with all this secrety-secret hoohaw." And then Contrail comes to his defense, sort of, like a good girl. "Don't sweat your sprocket over it Contrail." Takes out his injector pistol and jabs the needle into the canister's port, presumably to fill it. "As both a medic and a refuel operator I've done extensive research in unorthodox and substandard energon types." He pulls the injector out again and holds it up to examine the tube. "Which reminds me, I need to talk to you about your acidic stuff sometime." Fleet looks around at the increasingly crowded room. He looks thoughtful for a moment, then sort of edges towards the exit. Contrail notices Fleet edging away, and she edges over around to him, reminding, "You need a bug screen! And then your vaccines." She makes a face. Looks like she's familiar with Fleet's habit of trying to edge away? How odd. Soundwave, having established the pecking order again for the next few minutes, steps back enough to let Carjack do his work. The Tape Commander silently pondered the Unicronium's interactions as Contrail protests for Carjack. He lets the moment slide, moving on enough to drop the subject as well. Stalker gathers up all the fluids and the like in his arms, then carries them over to the sink. A breaking sound is heard during the alteraction moments ago, causing the medic to look over his shoulder in horror. Moments later he starts hurriedly cleaning up the mess. "All, uh...all looking good here!" Stalker says nervously. Soundwave looks over Avalanche next, "AVALANCHE. REPORT." He picks up the sonic neutralizer, spraying down the tiger, like one might do at a pet store...cept evil. Fleet affects a look of absolute innocence. He's actually pretty good at that. "Ah, of course, Director. I was merely making room for the newcomers." He's actually a pretty damn good bluff, as it turns out. He glances towards Stalker when the breaking sound can be heard, but doesn't comment on it. Avalanche pulls a bit, as Soundwave just gets to a blastin' him in the face. He waits till the commander is finished before turning his head back, "Not much to report, since Blast Off returned with those renegade Kaon civilians." Avalanche moves up towards a energon refilling station, "However, after the Kaon strike. I believe it may be time for use to push a counter-offensive. Maybe make an attempt at Iacon itself?" He asks, knowing Soundwave is one of the best mechs to talk about strategic strikes. He does look towards the others, and their antics. He can't help but chortle to himself, as Fleet makes a failed escape attempt. "Comrade Contrail is being too quick for you, eh?" He asks playfully. "Besides, you already have 'things' in your systems that give you an edge over some nasty stuff," Carjack remarks towards Contrail. "This is just to make sure your other systems are able to keep up. You're actually a pretty good candidate for dealing with whatever reason they need 2-14 considering... things." And then jabs the injector into her side while she's sort of distracted by Fleet. Best time to do it! Fleet gives Avalance a look of expertly feigned befuddlement, but does not reply. Combat: Soundwave runs a diagnostic check on Mecha Tiger Soundwave does some pretty thorough work on Avalanche, ensuring he's in good shape. "ONSLAUGHT IS IN EVALUATION OF SEVERAL COUNTER ATTACKS, AS WELL AS KNOWLEDGE OF AN AUTOBOT SUPPLY TRAIN USING THE RENEWED RAILWAY SYSTEMS." He sets aside the decontamination tools, "MILITARY AND OPERATIONS ARE EXPECTED TO WORK TOGETHER TO STOP THE TRAIN, GARNER SUPPLIES, AND PLACE DEMOLITION CHARGES INSIDE THE TRAIN, AS IT HEADS FOR RETORIS." This, for Soundwave, is small talk. Contrail's optics flare, at the shot - violet, not their typical red, and when the glow fades, there's murder in her optics. She takes a few steps towards... Soundwave, shaking. Then she very deliberately, in an obvious force of will, turns away, steps towards the wall, and punches it as hard as she can, screaming, "RRRRRGHHH!" There's a very delicate, fragile sense of control about her movements, like it is taking her very ounce of self-control not to just lay into someone and yank out his fuel pump. Soundwave draws his concussion blaster on Contrail, the moment she starts acting odd, as if he expected problems. Right now, it's right at her back! Fleet watches Contrail's behavior with confusion. Then he glances sideways out of the corner of his visual field to check and see whether there's a clear path to the exit. Fleet also looks for possible hiding places, should the exit prove too difficult to reach. Carjack on the other hand tucks his injector under one arm and flicks on a datapad to make a few notes. Resists the urge to slap Soundwave's arm for pulling out his weapon like he would anyone that wasn't high command whipping out a weapon in the medical bay. "Give it a few moments, system recalibration can cause erratic reactions." Avalanche immeadiately transforms, moving into a more offensive posture as well. He's not one for breaking the rules, but then, he's willing to teach a lesson if need be. Especially if it's in the med-center. "Please to be calming down, or I will have to be removing you." He says towards Contrail, however, Soundwave can probably get this under control without his help. "Shall I have her removed, Commander?" He asks towards Soundwave. Leaping up, Avalanche transforms into his titanic robot mode. The corner of Fleet's lips quirk up briefly into a smile before they're pushed back into neutrality. Soundwave's announcement on the frequencies means that in a moment, there will be a lot of other personnel in medical, and likely, most of them will be other Seekers. That should make it much easier to slip out unnoticed. "DELAY...." Soundwave is quite apprehensive about making a move right now. He actually holds out his other hand towards Avalanche, as if to ward him back. Still his weapon doesn't move from his aim, ready to strike down Contrail, if she can't pass the muster. All in all, its what Decepticons do, the good ones at least. Test themselves. His finger starts to creak just so as he prepares to pull the trigger... Contrail has a pounding headache and a... whisper in her mind. She stares at the dented wall, and she HATES it as much as she has ever hated anything. The wall needs to be one with the void! Beyond good and evil, beyond life and death, straight to nonexistence! And then Contrail's self-control snaps back. She stands there, glaring down the wall, vents cycling heavily. Clearly, Contrail commands, "Have Fleet strapped down. The shot's going to be worse on him. Guns down for now, I'm back." Fleet says, "Wait, wait, what?!" Fleet exclaims in surprise. Then he attempts to bolt." Combat: Fleet begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from Soundwave and Contrail Soundwave lowers his weapon slooooowly. After assessing the possibility of treachery, and finding it within under-Starscream levels (ie: Acceptable), Soundwave puts his gun at rest, and then just barely noticeably, looks at Carjack and Contrail, then gives a bare nod of approval. Fleet, on the other hand, bolts like a rabbit. Soundwave makes no move to stop him, instead..."AVALANCHE." Avalanche nods, and moves back into a more neutral position. "As you command." The Mech just raises his arms up, crossing them over each other. He then looks around, "It's so interesting right now! Most of the time, I get my systems repaired and I'm gone. This time..." He nods approvingly, "Makes the time go so much quicker. Ha ha!" As Contrail seems to snap back, and Soundwave calls off the security team, Avalanche continues. "Indeed, Onslaught has plans in the work. Though..." He raises one hand up, and wags a finger. "To the populace, we need to exert some force. Force enough to challenge even the Autobot capital..." Avalanche halts, as Soundwave speaks up. "Shall I hunt him down?" Contrail spins en pointe and stretches out arm, almost graceful, and lunges at Fleet, trying to grab him - not by the wingtip but by the intake. It's almost an aerial dance move, but even in the Survivalist Era, a Triple-Changer knowing that move would be rare. Combat: Contrail sets her defense level to Fearless. Combat: Contrail strikes Fleet with her (Grab) attack! "Occasionally it does get interesting around here," Carjack remarks to Avalanche with a chuckle, even as he's reloading his injector. "You might want to use the heavy restraints on that one. He doesn't have the.. benefits Contrail does." Fleet is grabbed by Contrail! Although his expression briefly reflects surprise at her movements, he's currently pre-occupied with other matters. "You know, it's starting to appear as if I might be a poor choice for this mission, after all." He gestures to Contrail. "As you suspected from the start. I could perhaps take up kneeling in place of the gentleman outside, and he could take my place?" You send a radio message to Fleet: You want your mind to be your own? You get this shot. But remember who you are. (There's a question - why does she have his private frequency?) You receive a radio message from Fleet: *returns a message along the same frequency. Someone in Intelligence having personal frequencies isn't that weird, anyway.* Was that intended to be amazingly cryptic, sir? Soundwave stands over the medical bed, looming as he is prone to do. "LASERBEAK, EJECT." He taps his shoulder tab, to eject his minion and...nothing happens. Well actually a grinding sound happens, and a thud...thud sound. Soundwave's chest still has Dinobird imprints on it. After a moment, the Tape Commander forcibly opens up his holder, ejecting the tape Laserbeak, who smoothly flies around the room, then lands on Soundwave's shoulder as he seals up his chestplate. "SQUAWWWWKKK!" The bird says accusing Fleet! "AVALANCHE, BLOCK THE EXIT." Soundwave intones, gesturing towards the door as if Avalanche was a damn idiot. Naturally he intercepts Fleet and Contrail's communications, but he doesn't give anything away there. That's just filed away for later. He awaits what will happen silently. You send a radio message to Fleet: I know that you want to survive, more than anything. There are... substances out there, that can change who you are. This vaccine stops one of them. If you *want* the possibility of becoming a shell of yourself when you could prevent it, on your head be it. Avalanche just nods, making his way towards the door. His large form makes an excellent blockade for the time being. He even adds to it, and closes the door behind him. So unless anyone wants to leave without permission, they'll have to open the door AND get past the large mech. His red optics just watch everything that happens from here on out, hoping to see some REAL action! Contrail has grabbed Fleet! She tries to drag him to a medical slab, one equipped with restraints, and she tries to shove him down, roughly. Contrail just had that shot. She experienced... what it does. It was difficult on her, and she has a certain... immunity, already. Contrail can only imagine that it will be worse on Fleet. Nonetheless, if she had to have it, Fleet's gonna get jabbed, too. Fleet pretty much assumes that Soundwave listening in on his radios is a given, anyway. He glances about the room, considering the orders given, the positions of everyone, and... other information. "I... yes, very well, sirs." His wings tremble slightly, as though he's cold (which, of course, he is, but the cold hasn't bothered him for a long time). He allows himself to be guided... well, dragged to the medical slab, and then he's shoved down. His optics flicker, and then he sighs in defeat. "I don't suppose I'm going to get any hint on what to expect." It's phrased like a question, but the inflection doesn't fit. He already knows the answer. Contrail slams the buttons for the restraints to pop put and says roughly, "It'll hurt like hell, and you'll hear the void telling you to destroy everything. You'll hate like you have never hated before. Every particle of you will long for the destruction of reality in its totality." "But you are a Decepticon warrior, and this is only Saturday for you." Combat: Contrail inspires Fleet with patriotic and frightening words! "Is that a rhetorical question or were you just not paying attention?" Carjack snorts as he shoves his way in between the others. "Your best bet? Brace yourself, and just remember this is -nothing- compared to what's going to happen if you don't get the treatment." Well, that's ominous. Does nothing to stop him from stabbing the injector into Fleet. And then quickly moving back behind the bigger mechs just in case those restraints don't hold. Soundwave quietly stands there, gun in his hands, pointed down for the moment but its out and ready. Laserbeak spreads his wings as he awaits from on high as well. The Intel Commander watches stoically as Carjack administers the vaccine. So it comes to pass for Fleet, that this is what Soundwave meant when he said 'dependable but expendable'.... "Hmmm," Fleet begins thoughtfully as Contrail explains matters. "I definitely think I was not the ideal choice for th-" and then his optics flare a brighter, orange read and he screams. "YAAAARGHHH!" He arches against the restraints and throws his cold generators on full-blast, attempting to make the metal brittle enough for escape. Anyone near him will notice that it's getting extremely cold. "Huh, didn't know he could cryo-project like that," Carjack notes mostly to himself. "I'll just hit this." He slaps a console button and stands there looking confident.... until nothing happens. No forcefields or anything. ".. And THIS is why I was saying this place is a dump." Soundwave takes a half step back from the cold projectors, watching intently. He raises his concussion blaster to bear on Fleet's restrained head just in case... "I did," Contrail says softly, stepping away from the berth. More loudly, she barks, "Remember! You belong to the EMPIRE. You are a *survivor* - and you will see this through. Remember, the end of everything is the end of your own self, as well. Come back to yourself. Come back to the Empire. I command it." It's not really the talk of EMPIRE that brings Fleet back. If it came down to it, Fleet would trade the Empire for his own survival. Not happily, of course, but he'd do it, because he has his priorities. However, he *is* a survivor. He even survived serving the Dead. He screams once more, even as he reminds himself that the end of all is the end of him, and there's no point to anything if he doesn't get to outlive everything. He grits his robo-teeth and then, suddenly, goes limp on the table. The temperature begins to return to normal. After a few moments, he observes quietly, "I'm forced to admit, sirs, that I still doubt my suitability for this mission, but I suppose that done is done." "Remind me to bitch at Scrapper to get the emergency systems in this dump back up to standard," Carjack grumbles to no one in particular when Fleet starts to calm down. Soundwave again slowly lowers his gun from Fleet's head. He rumbles a considering vocalization, but refrains from saying anything. Fleet's reaction, if anything, caused Soundwave to reconsider if it even works at all. Surely the Seeker should be dead or something by now, but Fleet persisted, he lived, and he seemed alright. Now he and Contrail were put on the 'probably traitors' list for life, but they were alive, and were of use. Wordlessly, when Soundwave relaxes his stance, he exits the room without a word. Laserbeak turns around to stare at Fleet with his menacing yellow eyes, but only gets a few seconds of good glaring in before Avalanche shuts the door again. Whether or not Fleet goes on the mission, Contrail really did want him to get that shot. She sighs in relief, "Ah, you survived. I was - well, nevermind that! great! ...and now we both need those 17 hour comprehensive bug checks." She puts a hand on her hip and grimaces. Fleet, who is still locked down, gives Contrail a leery look. "So I wasn't actually even expected to survive," he states. Not a question. He actually allows himself a scowl as he looks down at his wrist and tries to pull his fist out of the restraints, resulting in a "clink clink" sound. "Well, that certainly explains a lot," he says sourly. "That's still nothing compared to what would happened if you got exposed to 2-14 energon without the vaccination." Carjack reseals the canister and stows in back in his chest compartment. "For whatever the hell Galvatron and Soundwave are planning. Eh, doesn't matter, my work is done for the moment." He shrugs and wanders off to another part of the repair bay to do whatever it is he needs to do. "I wanted you to survive," Contrail says, quite earnestly, "I had faith in you - and hah, I took that shot first! And believe me - and Carjack - this is definitely better than the alternative." Fleet lifts a brow-ridge at Contrail, looking uncertain. His expression turns suspicious for just a moment before he schools it. He twists his hands and attempts to trigger a partial transformation to wriggle his way out of the restraints, since no one's bothering to let him go. "I've been stationed at some of our more backwater posts of late and am somewhat out of touch. What's this '2-14 energon'?" "Classified!" Contrail says cheerily, grinning. "2-14 energon does not exist. It especially does not exist when Autobots are around. If you were to mention it to Autobots were around, I would have to find you and yank your thrusters out your optics! But I really, really don't want to do that, I... haven't seen you in so long, you know? Another lifetime, I think! So you're not going to mention it to anyone." "Well, I do like my thrusters where they are," Fleet allows. Then he gives Contrail another suspicious look. "But, being as I don't really know anyone named Contrail, I'd say that it was most definitely another lifetime." "Almost literally," Carjack snorts under his breath at the 'another lifetime' remark. Contrail stutters, "I - I was - " but the file is corrupt. She can't grasp the name. She looks downcast. "I... look, I know that you don't want to be on this mission. And I know that unmotivated troops don't do the best job they could. But... this will suit your certain skillset." She looks at her hands, flexing them. "Unofficially, 2-14 is... quite often lethal. And erratic. Extremely unusual results. You've dealt with erratic. Soundwave was insistent that you go, and if you have to go, I'd rather that you have a fighting chance." Carjack just harumphs softly from the corner where he's gone to work when Contrail has name issues and doesn't comment. Fleet narrows his optics. "You're giving me an 'out'?" he asks suspiciously. As if *that* doesn't ring mental alarm bells in Fleet. It must be a trap. "But of course, I'm still locked down. How many choices do I actually have?" It's about this moment that Fleet manages to work one hand free, accompanied by a single 'transform noise.' Contrail is either not paying attention to the escape attempts or doesn't care. She paces, hands behind her back, and is almost bitter as she points out, "You vanished off into obscurity this long, and I didn't track you down, even when the Empire needed you. I know you never wanted the spotlight or the frontlines. I let you have your anonymity." "Director, the Empire *never* needs me. As you might recall from earlier, I am /expendable/." Fleet works his other hand free. "The rest is true, however, though I'm uncertain /why/ you should want to track me down." All right, feet next. Let's see, if he pushes his 'toe'-section forward... He's neither accepted or rejected the mission. Contrail paces over to the dent on the wall and touches it, looking at it pensively. She did that, didn't she? In that fit of all-consuming rage. But she remembered who she was. And very, very quietly, Contrail says, "Because Catechism missed her wingmate. Not -" she stutters again, "- that you were ever - ever her wingmate." Fleet gives Contrail a startled look as he pulls his feet free. "Ah," he answers. Then he swings his legs off the table and stands up. Contrail put a hand against the wall and leans against it, staring at the dent. Her memory feels fuzzy, and her head hurts. Trying to remember is difficult. This was too much strain. She bets that Fleet will get out of this, make his way back to obscurity. It is what he does. He doesn't give the Empire what it is owed. But she'll let him slide. Contrail's just not sure if Soundwave will. Fleet is a terrible, terrible Decepticon. He's also out of here. Fleet, ESCAPE!
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![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)