| abstract
| - Friday, September 14, 2012 General Assembly Many first-time visitors feel small and insignificant here...this massive amphitheater serves as the meeting place for the United Nations General Assembly, the controlling force behind the UN and most of the planet Earth. Rows of seats in concentric semi-circles, each ring a few steps above the last, radiate outwards from the Director's desk at the far end of the room. Looking closely, you note that each seat is actually a comfortable desk-like station complete with a sophisticated communications console - featuring microphones as well as speakers and translators, status monitors and many other helpful features. A large viewscreen is mounted in the wall behind the Director's head, designed to show close-ups of the delegates as they speak. First Aid sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: Amber MacKenzie sends a radio message to First Aid: Yes? First Aid sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: Hi Amber, First Aid here. Amber MacKenzie sends a radio message to First Aid: "Er, right." She looks around the amphitheater to locate the Autobot. She was too busy reviewing her notes to pay attention earlier. "What can I do for you, First Aid?" First Aid sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: *can be seen waving from across the room* I'm just going over my notes... a bit of last minute changes. Are you going to be bringing up... you know... the investigation you've been working on? Amber MacKenzie sends a radio message to First Aid: "No, that's not relevant to the issue at hand. This is all about the definition of 'people' being 'homo sapiens' only." First Aid sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: Ok, I think you're right. The UN General Assembly hall has been somewhat converted today in anticipation of a major event--namely, a hearing to determine whether or not aliens should be granted rights under the Geneva Conventions! Some of the seats have been pulled up and had a carpet placed over them to provide more room for Cybertronians to access the area. All the seats were rearranged to be closer together, though it leaves everyone a bit packed together. Still, not a single delegate would miss this one. Several podiums are set up in this room. There's one for the Secretary General, which has always been there, then another off to the left, sized for humans, and another off to the right, sized for Transformers or very large aliens. There's also some seating provided for experts who wish to testify, too, and Franklin Cross is one of those seating in that section. The Secretary General, Azad Bahir, waits for everyone to enter and get settled before he begins. First Aid is in the General Assembly near the back. This isn't his choosing, but it's just easier for Transformers to be seated there so they don't obstruct the view of anyone else. The Protectobot looks more terrified now than he ever has on the battlefield, and is fairly withdrawn at the moment as he mentally reviews his notes. The only moment of respite from this solitude is when he briefly stands up to wave to someone on the other side of the room. Encore stands with the Autobot delegation, arms folded. He doesn't look too happy with what's going on, arms folded against his massive chest. He gives First Aid a nod, thinking through his arguments a moment. "Mmm." A murmur of alarm goes through the Assembly as Galvatron himself appears, the guards backing away in front of him since, after all, who could stop him? He has Swindle with him, as well as a blue, smooth-headed alien only a little bigger than a man, which is incongruously wearing a suit. A hand is placed upon First Aid's shoulder. A slender, pink hand. "Courage, First Aid. We can do this. The sheer fact we're here proves that it is possible." Elita One stays near her Autobots of course, especially with all the humans about, she wouldn't dare anything that could signify clumsiness or aggression. She murmurs to those about her, "Cons are here. A sight I'd never expect from them, I wonder what he wants." Cool and unflappable as always, Elita tries to be the example needed for her Autobots. Blades is mostly just here to make sure that nothing untoward happens to any of his charges, particularly First Aid. He gives random objects particularly sharp looks. That light fixture up there? Blades is WATCHING IT. If it tries anything funny? He'll show it that it only takes one Protectobot to /break/ a lightbulb. Blades also gives Galvatron a sharp look, fingers twitching. And then that carpet there. And some guy in a baseball hat. Franklin Cross looks up, raising a brow as Galvatron enters. But he doesn't seem *surprised.* Did he know Galvatron was on his way? Or did he simply expect him? Or is he just concealing his surprise? We may never know. Unless someone asks. Perceptor makes his way inside and settles down near the back as well, choosing a Cybertronian-sized seat near First Aid and Elita One. He isn't exactly looking forward to what will most likely be an extremely long and drawn-out debate. He was a scientist, not a politician. He sighs and reviews something on a datapad he is holding. Notes on the arguments he plans to make? Or perhaps research notes on various experiments he is running back at the lab? Probably a bit of both. He is also wondering why the Decepticons have shown up. He'd speculated that they really couldn't care less about this. He nods slightly to Elita One and First Aid, greeting them quietly. Is he the only Decepticon to even come? Somehow it wouldn't surprise him. Most of the ones that would be interested in the proceedings would either just watch from afar, or hide somewhere in the shadows waiting for sensitive materials. The rest of the faction usually wasn't interested in problems that couldn't be solved by shooting it with a gun or gutting it with a scalpel. Their loss. And Galvatron. But it's only right for the Emperor of Destruction himself to attend, is it not? Swindle strides into the General Assembly hall with his usual confident swagger just behind Galvatron, followed by a spindly looking gumbiecon carrying a futuristic robot-sized briefcase. Purple optics dart over the gatherings, but the Combaticon just grins amiably as he saunters towards the Cybertronian seating area and makes himself comfortable. Sits back, crosses one leg over the other, and pauses a moment to adjust the bolo tied strung around his neck casing with his hands. Then motions for his 'aide' to hand him the briefcase. "Don't worry Lord Galvatron, we'll have this handled in no time." Flashes a smile that somehow works business wonders for the Decepticon-artist before clicking open the case and checking the contents, the cover held at an angle to keep anyone else from snooping. On the far left of the plus-plus-plus sized delegates, the carpet seems to suffering already. Little bits of debris, oils, and filaments litter it, changing the colour and the texture of it. You see, Wreck-Gar is here as well, and where he goes, junk seems to follow. His weapons have been put away, and he seems to be trying to clean himself up, dusting his shoulders, which now explains the mess below. When he sees Swindle arrive with the Evil Overlord, he makes his way through the crowd, and tries to slip some credits into the Combaticons hand, in payment of some bet that went all to hell, but that's not immediately clear to the audience. First Aid pats Elita One's hand as he returns Encore and Perceptor's nods. He cranes his neck towards Galvatron and Swindle at her announcement. "Great, Decepticons. This is a bad idea letting them in. Think they're just going to start shooting or make a mockery of the situation by being trolls instead?" Galvatron nods coolly down at Swindle, glancing across the Assembly to take in the Autobot contingent, and particularly the human leader, Cross. He seems calm and stable, but then, that can change to incandescent rage in seconds. "I have retained additional counsel," he replies. "In case your argument is not as convincing as one might hope." Swindle leans over a bit to look at the alien Galvatron brought... and discreetly palms the payment from the passing Junkion behind him while doing so. "How fitting", is all he comments before sitting back again. "Better to be as well armed as possible in a war of wits," he aids up to Galvatron, not sounding the least bit offended. He's quite used to his own teammates not entirely trusting him. The alien lawyer, who glitters slightly, like mica sandpaper, gives Swindle a polite professional nod and takes a seat near the Decepticon table to review his notes. Elita One murmurs, "Cross has made a lot of comments of late, this is his payoff, I think...He's got a lot banking on this. Whatever he goes with, we have to adapt to. Primus...wish I had time to dig into those details like I wanted." She folds her hands together behind her back. Wreck-Gar catches her attention, what could he possibly want with Swindle? Encore watches Galvatron enter the room with his lawyer, shaking his head a little. He sighs quietly, watching the others and nodding to Elita. "Mmm, yeah. Man I wonder which side he's on?" He nods to Galvatron. "For or against our rights in the Convention?" Blades says lowly, "You know what I think about Decepticon, First Aid." He doesn't need to say anymore. Wreck-Gar returns to his position on the far left side, now that he's paid his debt, and best of all, Galvatron doesn't seem to have noticed the exchange. Once back in the comfort and relative security of fifteen feet distance, he remarks, "I didn't mean to make that bet, Mac, but he started talking and ... well, I didn't stand a chance. Amber MacKenzie sends a radio message to Elita One: Be careful, ma'am. There may be Decepticons eavesdropping on your broadband channel, especially since Galvatron is here. First Aid nods slowly to Blades, not disagreeing. Aid might not look like it, but he's ready to spring into action to safeguard as many lives as he can should Galvatron and Swindle do the unspeakable. Elita One sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: *sigh* I do wish Hubcap was here, point made. Secretary General Bahir clears his throat nervously at Galvatron's arrival. "Ahem, well, let us get started, gentlemen. We are here today to discuss the matter of whether or not the Geneva Conventions provide protection to alien life forms. We shall begin each argument by having our own General Cross state each issue to start with. Then, those who wish to grant Geneva protections to aliens can submit their counter-arguments, and then, once they are done, those OPPOSED to granting protections can submit reinforcing arguments. General Cross, please state the first issue to be discussed, here?" General Cross nods, stands, and approaches the human podium. "Thank you, Secretary General. My first argument concerns the fact that Cybertronians are not truly alive, but rather, imitate life, like one of those new AI dogs imitating the actions of a real dog. The AI dogs IMITATE dogs quite well, but the love they express for their masters is always fabricated. And, since it lacks the downsides of having a real pet, it is also less genuine because it was not earned. In a similar fashion, Cybertronians mimic human behavior, sometimes with great accuracy, but, well, let me demonstrate." A holo-display pops up of John Travolta dancing in Saturday Night Fever. Another display pops up of Jazz dancing in the exact same fashion. Then finally, a holo of Blaster appears, dancing exactly the same way. "As you can see, the two Autobots pictured are imitating John Travolta with an accuracy of 99.9999. But the trick here, which the robots missed, is not simply to imitate what humans do. That's easy for a machine. The trick is to do it for yourself and make mistakes, but their technological perfection renders that impossible. And that's not the only instance of Transformers imitating humans. Observe..." He brings up a holo of Kup relating war stories and complaining about his back, another holo of Gears complaining constantly, Huffer being a pessimist. "The Autobots' "personalities" seem genuine only on cursory inspection. When you look further, it is easy to see that they are just simple caricatures of human personalities." Sec Gen Bahir nods, and looks to the Autobots. "Your rebuttals?" Elita One looks across the room towards the Cons. Galvatron, Swindle and some attorney she didn't know. Her optics narrow, her arms shift to cross before her. There was something more going on here, if she could piece it together early enough. Amber is probably more accustomed to public speaking than most, so she shows no signs of nervousness as she steps forward to the human-sized podium and turns to face the Assembly. Her expression is serious, even grave, as this is a serious matter. She sweeps the audience visually, meeting some eyes, but passing over most. "Ladies, gentlemen, and..." Her gaze rests on Galvatron with some irony, and she nods slightly. "... honored guests. Thank you for hearing me today on this rather momentous occasion." She briefly refers to her notes and begins, pondering the quickest way out of the building should things go pear-shaped. "On the day General Cross took command of the EDC, he mentioned that the U.N. Security Council went over the Geneva conventions very carefully before modifying them to specify that the protection of the law applied to human beings only. But in my opinion, this point is moot. The Geneva conventions only apply to situations regarding wounded enemies and prisoners of war, situations that aren't that common. What this change does do is establish a dangerous, dangerous precedent: it denies the protection of human law to nonhumans. "Instead of recalling that we live in a galactic community now, that we are one of hundreds of different sapient species, the definition was set to the most narrow possible interpretation: homo sapiens only. All those aliens out there, who are spending money that will be contributed to rebuilding Earth, are nonhuman. The Nebulans who volunteered to be partnered to the Autobots are nonhuman. The aliens who enlisted in the EDC, such as other Nebulans and assorted others, are nonhuman. And though it was announced that they were exempt from the ruling, the Autobots and Junkions are nonhuman along with the Decepticons, because this redefinition is based on *species*, not faction. Autobots, Junkions, and yes, even Decepticons are all members of the Transformers species, not homo sapiens. Are any peoples on Earth defined as nonhuman based on nationality? Are the Chinese human, and the Russians not? No. First Aid finds himself nodding at all of Amber's points so far. He isn't surprised at this given they share an opinion, but he is impressed at her ability to speak to such a large gathering and make her case known. "When the existence of aliens in the EDC ranks was brought to General Cross's attention, he quickly promised that a number of exemptions would be made to the ruling. "Maybe, just maybe, we should ditch our arrogance and rethink our definition of the "human" in "human beings". Neither humans nor even organics are the only sapient species in the galaxy, and it's time we accepted that. They come in all sizes, shapes, and colors. And yes, there are even species based on plants and rocks as well as our own carbon-based kind. "Instead of narrowing our definition, we should be widening it. Many of these aliens, including the Transformers, they love and hate, they have hopes and dreams, they defend themselves and each other, they even sacrifice themselves for their loved ones and for their faction, nation, or world. Just like human beings. Unfortunately, they also hate and envy, they kill and steal, they invade and conquer. Once again, just like human beings. In other words, they are human, too, by the definition that really counts: sapient beings. And yes, so are the Decepticons. They aren't nonhuman; the majority are just plain evil, and evil isn’t limited to a particular species or body construction. In fact, if you look at human history, we homo sapiens can teach the Decepticons a thing or two about evil. "However, if sapient beings are entitled to the protection *and penalties* of the law, then yes, so are the Decepticons. Even though they don't deserve the protection. It's not for *their* sake but for ours: ours and the sake of our own humanity." The last part of the presentation is a montage of video clips retrieved from news archives, showing various events involving the Autobots as announced by news anchors from days of old. Both the good and the bad can be seen: incredible acts of heroism where Autobots fight or are injured to protect or rescue human beings from Decepticons coupled with more rare incidents of severe property damage, injuries, and even deaths (censored) resulting from intensely violent fights with Decepticons. In the mix are more peaceful visions of Autobots helping repair and rebuild the damaged areas and even Autobots eagerly engaged in a wide variety of community services such as Blades aiding in search and rescue operations, Hot Spot teaching fire safety, Protectobots throwing a Halloween carnival to raise money for charity, First Aid administering medical care, Sideswipe and other Autobot cars in races for charity, and Defensor donating advertising revenue to Habitat for Humanity. "Please, please don't let another Decepticon attack, be it today, tomorrow, or next week, turn you against these *people* who have stood firm at our sides for over fifty years. Vote to repeal the modification, reclaim our humanity, and honor the personhood of our Transformers friends and alien neighbors." "Thank you." Encore nods in agreement with Amber too. "Hear hear." First Aid smiles inwardly as Amber references his charity work. He glances over at Blades, glad he's forced his brother in arms to go with him so many times. As Amber finishes, First Aid stands up and claps loudly. Combat: Amber MacKenzie compares her Leadership to 35: Success! The assembly erupts into applause over that speech! It was truly amazing. Still, there's a few countries near the front that aren't looking happy. Namely, the delegates from the US, Russia, China, and France, who are sitting next to each other and muttering things to one another. Amber MacKenzie returns to her seat after bowing to acknowledge the support from her Autobot friend and the surprisingly loud human crowd. Elita One approaches the pedestal before the United Nations, poise proper and confident. "Hallowed United Nations committee and delegates, I am Elita One, I am honored to be here to help weigh the pros and cons of this momentous occasion. Now, what we are discussing is a core part of all culture. That of sentience...more accurate, sapience. A sentient being survives in a world, whether it be by hunting prey, or harvesting food. A *sapient* being..." She pauses to give the word its due, "can create, can marvel at the cosmos. A sapient being can delve into the histories of philosophy and awe at the marvel of creation, no matter the source. While our nature is mechanical, this IS our truth. We ARE able to create, to wax philosophy, to show anger...and great courage. These principles are not simply coded into our spirit, my friends. A mere machine could not experience the heartbreak, the crisis of faith that any living being here can find in despair." She pauses again, a hand to her mouth as she collects herself. "We have spirituality and we have beliefs...Strong enough ones that we have often chosen to die to fulfill them when needed. This is not the mere programming of a machine, devotion to a cause does not, CAN NOT come from a program. It comes from within, that inner drive, that inner courage that we all struggle to maintain at times. Thank you." Marissa Faireborn had shown up a few moments late, slipping in the door and standing amongst the crowd of people at the back. In a way, she was doing nothing to draw any attention to herself, and being skinnier than anyone had ever seen her, she wasn't as recognizable. She was at the moment, watching the crowd, watching people. She was looking for others, faces, memorizing, taking in. Everyone else was intently watching what was going on up front at the podium and on the floor to have even noticed her. She didn't even seem surprised to see Decepticons in the audience. And thus, she waited...listening. Combat: Elita One compares her Leadership to 70: Success! More applause from the assembly! Looks like it's going well for team Rights. The General Assembly's holo-display flickers on, showing the towering behemoth that is the Autobot Super Warrior Defensor. The giant is standing in the United Nations Plaza, having apparently recorded this earlier today. Defensor speaks in a powerful rumble, though he's doing his best to appear non-threatening. "I don't feel I have any right to challenge the decision made by this esteemed council, and if there is one thing the Autobots have learned in our fifty years on this planet, it is that humans must shape their own destiny." "You have every right to forge your own path, though you will hear arguments for and against granting Cybertronians and other aliens rights under Earth law. Some will say that Earth's government must accept aliens for practical reasons, religious reasons, or humanitarian reasons. Some will use those reasons to argue the opposite." "I only want to reaffirm that regardless of what you decide, the Protectobots will still defend you with every diode of our being." Defensor kneels to get closer to the holo-camera. The General Assembly is filled with the sound of metal scraping against metal, gears whirling loudly, and immensely powerful hydraulics lifting an obscene amount of weight. "Consider this a promise: We will stand with you to the end. Look deep within yourselves, and then do what you think is right." Defensor stands again, and once more the entire room is filled with shifting parts. "Good luck." Elita One sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: You had a remarkable speech, Amber. I found myself repeating your very sentiments. One note however, that perhaps Cybertronian may be a better term than Transformer. You did a spectacular job, Prime would've been proud. "Typical oversized boyscout wannabe," Swindle mutters lowly under his breath afterwards. Amber MacKenzie sends a radio message to Elita One: Thank you, ma'am. Your points were very good, too, made from a perspective I couldn't cover in my own. Elita One gives a soft nod to the holoscreen. He spoke for all of them, for the long run. Elita knew it well...even if humanity did not protect them with their laws, the Autobots would protect them with their lives... Elita One sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: Please, again. *near laugh* Call me Elita. The council is impressed both by the size of the hologram and by his message! Still, it doesn't seem to sway them one way or the other. Apocryphacius was hiding in the crowd the whole time, trying to be inconspicuous. When he is called, he comes forth to argue, "The fact is, the Autobots ask for rights that they do not extend to other species. They have detained sophonts indefinitely without access to legal counsel or setting a trial date. They have released sophonts in Decepticon territory without access to legal counsel or trial, where Decepticons have then torn them apart, effectively performing executions without trial in everything but name. In fact, the Autobots have a persistent history of agreeing to 'truces' with the Decepticons against common foes, and when the time comes to deal with the culprits, the Autobots consistently step away and allow the Decepticons to get their hands dirty. They use the Decepticons as their sin-eaters, doing the unpleasant tasks that the Autobots want done but do not wish to do themselves, lest their consciences be perturbed." "The Autobots have been a party to the destruction of planets. Multiple planets. Even universes. This is destruction on a scale that humanity is thankfully unequipped to understand. If humanity thinks that the extinction of the passenger pigeon was a moral failing of humanity, if it thinks that the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were tragedies, however necessary various parties may argue them, then it can at least understand that what the Autobots have done is more terrible than humanity's worst." "The Autobots will tell you that they did not do these things out of a desire for evil, and that is likely correct. The truth is that the Autobots are childish vigilantes, unfettered by the rule of law. They do what /feels/ best to them at any given time. They handle matters one way at one time and then another way at another time. Precedent means nothing to them. The fact that they want to do good but are inconsistent in their approach makes them /dangerous/. It is easy to condemn men of evil, but good men are often placed upon a pedestal and never asked to improve." "But I say this, the Autobots are /not/ good enough. They are hypocrites now, and if they ever wish to be taken seriously they must grow up and improve sooner rather than later. Until they are willing to consistently extend the right to legal counsel, the right to trial, and to cease indefinite detainment to /all/ sophonts, not just the ones that the Autobots personally like, and until they stop using the Decepticons as their disposal system, the Autobots have no basis on which to demand these rights for themselves from the humans. This is, after all, humanity's world. They owe the Autobots nothing. Why should they reward the Autobots with rights that the Autobots do not grant to others and thereby reward the Autobots' bad behavior? It is simple. They should not." Combat: Apocryphacius compares his Intelligence to 65: Success! First Aid is visibly shaken by Apocryphacius's comments. Throughout he glances at Blades, Elita, and others with obvious worry. Elita One regards Apocryphacius' argument quietly. There was some truth to it, of course, whatever light it was shed in. She maintains a stoic regard at the Quintesson. Sec Gen Bahir blinks. "Ahem, ah, well, we were not doing rebuttals just yet, but thank you, Apocryl... Apoco.... Quintesson." Regardless, Cross smiles across the room at Apocryphacius and nods at him. Some of the member states, previously swayed by prior arguments, are beginning to think about what Apocryphacius said. What Amber hears from Defensor is no surprise but something she *knew* without being told, just by knowing the kind of people they are. Her thoughts about Elita's presentation have already been made known to to the Autobot femme. In between presentations, she does as she did at the close of the Olympics: watches the others present. Not so much for the BCM this time as the Decepticons. Amber's attention is forcefully caught when Apocryphacius makes his shocking speech, and she slumps back in her chair, her eyes closing in pained disappointment. That was... unexpected. Though perhaps beneficial in the end, Swindle muses as he sits back. Apocryphacius was right, the Autobots were indeed guilty of all those things. In fact, Perceptor himself was personally responsible for actions like those. And he wasn't one bit ashamed of it, either. Well okay maybe a little bit. But that didn't make the humans any better. Elita One sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: An enobit for your thoughts. Marissa Faireborn remains quiet where she is and considers the Quintesson's words. First Aid slowly steps up to the podium. With the eyes of the world and beyond on him, the Protectobot is more than a little bit nervous. He looks up at all the eyes in the crowd and takes a moment before beginning to collect his thoughts. But he's defended his adopted world in battle before without giving up, and he's prepared to do so again right here. "Ladies and gentlemen of the United Nations, the Earth, and those off world," he begins in a clear tone, "Thank you for having me here today. I've been on this world for fifty years, and throughout that time I've met, worked with, fought with, and cared with countless humans. I've come to think of Earth as a second home." "When you're deciding whether or not to grant rights to non-humans, I urge you to speak with those who have met us. It is too easy, history teaches us, to dehumanize--pardon the figure of speech--other people unless you have met them face to face and lived with them on a regular basis. So talk with those from Earth Defence Command and ask them if they consider the Transformers, the Nebulons, the Quintessons, the Femaxians, and all the other races who they've worked with whether they consider them to be alive. They are the ones with the most experience, and those are the ones who are in the best position to make the call." "I think it's important that the United Nations consider the importance of what they're deciding here. Rights. Life. To every non-human in the galaxy. Consider that as you cast your voice. There are over nine billion humans on Earth. There are over ten *trillion* aliens in the galaxy." Aid lets that sink in. "Consider the implications... no, consider the *arrogance* to assume that of those trillions of people, only a tiny subset of them are deserving to be called alive. Ask yourself what type of people would rule themselves superior to all the rest of the Galaxy." Blades claps and cheers for First Aid! He would wave a lighter, but that would probably get him kicked out, so he doesn't. First Aid mentally flips his notes to a new page. "At the core of this decision is the question of what is life. General Cross alluded to this in his argument. Is it the capacity to make decisions? Yes, we do that. Is it the capacity to learn? Yes, we do that. Is it the capacity to have regrets, have hatreds, have loves, have desires? Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we do that. Is it to make mistakes?" Aid hesitates, adding something in here, "As my friend Apocryphacius just eloquently noted, yes, we've made mistakes. Is it being built as organics? Ah, no, there is at least one difference between us, but then the galaxy is just as full of robotic life as it is with organic life. From a scientific perspective, Transformers and other aliens are life." Aid makes a sweeping gesture towards some of those in attendance. "Ah, but perhaps it the capacity to dance like John Travolta?" Aid smiles inwardly, ad libbing that one, "For the sake of those watching at home, just take my word that yes we can do that." Amber MacKenzie sends a radio message to Elita One: I knew that some Autobots had been unkind to him because of his species, but I never expected this. Are these incidents true? And if so, are they the exception to the rule rather than the norm? I hope so. First Aid takes a step back from the podium. "Now, I do have a little demonstration, and I'd like to thank the Junkion delegation for getting this for me on such short notice." Aid taps a button, and a friendly Junkion starts up the same holo-display Crossed use. It's of... huh, what is it? It's some guy... wait, no, a bunch of guys and girls wearing terrible and bizarre outfits and--- --- it's... --it's horrible... --- oh God, it's Botcon coverage. "As you can see, the two humans pictured are imitating Gears and Starscream." Aid squints, "Or maybe Huffer... but the point is they're doing this with accuracy of... well, I don't have General Cross's stats on this, but I'd say they're doing a pretty bang-up job despite the Huffer-Gears confusion. A for effort!" "But the trick here, which the fans missed, is not to simply imitate what Transformers do. That's easy for a human. The trick is to do it yourself and make mistakes. Alas, their organic bodies make that impossible." Aid nods to the Junkion, who shuts off the display. "I don't reference General Cross's speech to mock humanity or his ideas. Far from it, but just to illustrate a point that any argument made against Transformers and the aliens in the galaxy can be made against humanity as well. Anyone can look at a human life, drum it down to one sentence, and ignore the rest. Spike Witwicky wears hardhats. Chip Chase likes technology. General Cross is a meany." Aid glances over at the General, optics flashing in a smile to show he means no ill will towards him. Elita One sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: I think you already know the answer to that, regarding how we met. I cannot vouch for everything said myself. I've been on Cybertron for ages. "I spoke earlier of what history teaches us, and of the dangers of making others less than human. There have been arguments involving race, religion, and even science when it comes to deciding who is deserving of rights and who is not." First Aid pauses here, trying not to get choked up, "Now, in 2033, humanity is again at this crossroad again. Do we choose to dehumanize others and let them suffer the consequences, or do we stand up for what's right? Decades from now, when your grandchildren look up at you and ask: did you support discrimination against all other life in the galaxy, or did you take a stand?" Aid clears his vocalizer, "What do you hope to be able to tell them? Which side of history do you want to be remembered for." "Thank you for your time and consideration." Aid gives one final nod before stepping away from the podium. Elita One regards First Aid with analysis. He played a dangerous game. They all were, but how would it be received was the only question that mattered... Combat: First Aid compares his Leadership to 55: Success! Groove gives First Aid a big grin. "Hey man, did you hear yourself saying all those words? You said 'em like crazy, man! I was like 'whoah! More words! Can he say more? And you did, man. You *did.*" He gives First Aid a big thumbs up from next to Blades. Among the listeners is someone hovering between whether to go back to the EDC or not -- said person being current Lockheed-Martin engineer and consultant Gabriel Henshaw. While it's been over three years since his tour of duty ended, he's always kept an eye on things like this, and seeing decisions like this being made are a concerning matter -- not just for him personally from past experiences (especially with his wife and now-teenage daughter), but for Earth at large. The arguments so far seem interesting, though Apoc's comments were surprising -- especially considering just how narrow-minded the ruling was originally made. That said, however, he is quiet, listening and waiting to see how things turn out. The assembled delegates listen intently, some of them shedding a few tears as First Aid conducts his speech. Cross looks upset, though. When it's time for Wreck-Gar of Junkion to speak, he slowly makes his way to the podium, with all the pomp and ceremony that a head of state. Strange as it may seem, he is the recognised ruler of an entire planet. He begins with the obvious, "Ladies, gentleman, and invited transgendered species, six hundred and fifty thousand score and thirteen years ago, Junkion was founded. We had a dream; that our new models would one day live on a world where they would not be judged by the colour of their skin, but by the contents of their laser core. Then, one day, the Quintessons arrived. We Junkions couldn't get involved. We had work to do. It's not that we like the Quintessons; we hate them, but there wasn't anything we could do. Afterwards, the Autobots turned pink, Junkion was distinct, but out at Polyhex, they all turned purple." He goes on, to some length, but it just gets more confusing from there, and this is him trying to communicate and be understood. When he's done, he steps down from the podium, hopefully not entirely by blank stares and vacant expressions. First Aid steps back to Groove, Blades, Elita One and the others, legs feeling like jam with each step he took. "I could barely hear anything I was so nervous," he says, obviously relieved he got through it without stumbling. Amber MacKenzie sends a radio message to First Aid: Just as good as I expected from you, First Aid. First Aid sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: Thank you! Blades tries to give First Aid a friendly clap on the shoulder and says quietly, "Volunteering at the soup kitchen all around when this is over?" Surely that will cheer First Aid right up! First Aid beams at the helicopter mech, "You got it, Blades." Combat: Wreck-Gar compares his Leadership to 90: Failure :(Galvatron folds his arms over his chest and listens intently, nodding with approval at Apoc's argument. "A shrewd judgment indeed," he asides to Swindle. "Wiser than it looks. One can take the Quintesson from the Tribunal, but not the Tribunal from the Quintesson, eh?" Groove gives First Aid a reassuring grin. "Nervous? You? No way man, I was like, saying to Blades, did that guy inherit the Matrix, because he's like, got the touch! Man." He gives Blades a big nod. "Oh man, volunteer work!" The delegates seem confused by Wreck-Gar's speech, and collectively wonder where he was going with that? Blades will chop the slag out of those carrots! Did they really expect one of Quintessa's orphans to argue /for/ Primus's wayward children? When Autobots are perfectly happy to detain his kind until they rot to death? To execute them without trial? When Autobots also have a history of, well, pretty much trampling on the rights of other aliens as long as they aren't cute? Think about all the Gyconies and Sleazardos and Orbs! And it doesn't /matter/ if these other aliens are evil. That's the whole point. Even if they're guilty as Hell, if the Autobots want to be taken seriously, they need to use due process on everyone, not just cute species, like humans and Nebulans. Right now, the Autobots are just space cowboys, doing whatever pops into their heads and feels right at the time. It drives an orderly mind crazy. Apocryphacius tries to sink back into anonymity in the crowd. Marissa Faireborn sighs quietly at Wreck-gar's speech. Wincing inside, she waits to see what comes next. Groove steps to the podium, suddenly inspired. "Hey. Guys. Look at all of us in this room. It's pretty cool, right? I mean, we're all in this room together, you know? There's four walls, and some doors. Chairs. And us. And that's all you've got in this crazy short thing called life: some walls, some chairs, and each other. And then you've gotta figure out what to do with them. Do you put all the chairs on seperate sides of the room and glare at each other? Or do you use all those chairs to make a rad blanket fort together, like that one time on Iacon? Blades, do you remember that? I guess in closing, Prime Ministers, is that like, you only live once. Except for the Recylogons on Reincarn 6, but I don't think I saw any here. Anyway, you only live once, together with everyone in this room, and it's up to us whether or not we make that room suck, or a party. Thank you." He salutes, and then sits back down. "Hey First Aid, there's a ton of people here." Blades grimly claps for Groove because he is obligated to do so. But it is very stern clapping. Elita One would note to not have the Junkions or Groove speak again, but the humans here need a full briefing of what they are like... She frowns softly, a hand raised to shield her emotion away from the onlookers for a moment. "Quintessons know this sort of thing, even if they're not a part of the hive or whatever they call it," Swindle replies to Galvatron. Then.. blinks a couple of times at Groove. Resists making some snide comments on questionable use of substances for the sake of remaining professional... Groove gives Blades a warm smile. "Hey, thanks man. I think I got to some people." He nods towards a small group of humans. "Plus, I totally smoked up with those guys before the dance started." Combat: Groove compares his Leadership to 85: Failure :(The delegates are baffled again. They could kind of see the Protectobot's point, but it's kind of an oddball way of saying it. Encore looks at Franklin Cross. "Could a machine do like Defensor has... like EVERY Autobot has; made a pledge... a /choice/ to defend your world from all its threats. Don't forget that; even if you don't give us the rights you give the lowliest criminal of your own society, we will defend you. I ask you this: Is that fair? Is it fair that those who will lay down their lives for you aren't offered those same rights? Would -you- defend someone who doesn't even consider you a living thing? I have made my choice, I made it when I stepped out of a cryo-tube; regardless of what that Quintesson says, my choice is to defend you." Unsettled by the Quintesson's argument, he rallies a little. "Franklin Cross is fundamentally wrong on one count; we are not perfect. And neither is he; similar arguments were made in the 1930s against the Jewish people, and look where that got you; one of the most devastating conflicts in human history. I find that a worrying prospect, especially considering General Cross' speech at the Olympics; all he needed was some red flags and a toothbrush moustache." He shoots Franklin a sharp look, then shrugs. "I can't make up your minds for you. But First Aid had it right; do you believe your species is the only intelligent, sentient race in the galaxy? Do you believe that humans are the only intelligent species in the galaxy, the only species worthy of rights? Remember your own history as you ask yourself that question." First Aid claps for Groove, and not just out of a sense of duty. He mostly thinks that Groove did ok. Mostly. He does share a quick glance with Blades, though, as he isn't certain how effective the Protectobot was. He also claps for Encore, nodding. Just how is Earth going to work with other alien life if they believe they aren't alive? Who's going to want to be friends with them outside of the hopelessly gallant Defensor and his kind? Combat: Encore compares his Leadership to 80: Failure :(A few of the delegates are swayed, but it seems the majority aren't impressed this time. In particular, the US delegate turns to the Russian, French, and Chinese delegates and mutters something about Godwin, and they chuckle. Blades sort of winces in First Aid's general direction. Groove's speech did not go over as well as First Aid's did, and Encore just Godwin's Lawed himself. The Sec Gen turns to the Decepticons. "Well, gentlemen, your... rebuttals?" "Are you prepared, Swindle?" Galvatron asks. Playing hardball right off the bat. You've got to give the guy some credit for that. Unfortunately it's not the sort of credit one can use to buy things, and the interest is probably killer. When Galvatron asks if he is ready the schemester just nods and flashes that grin of his as he gets up. Undaunted by the previous arguments Swindle's demeanor is as casually confident as usual as he folds his hands behind his back. "The General has started off with a very interesting argument indeed. To some degree, it seems true. A lot of the Autobots -have- adapted ways of your culture as a means to try and understand your kind. I myself deal with your species on a regular basis; I'm certain my -usual- business is of no mystery to you." By then he's walked up to the podium, but instead of standing behind it turns and leans against it. "Some of my best friends and customers are the ones you would deem terrorists, criminals and various other hives of scum and villainy. But enough about me." With a bit of a chuckle the Combaticon shifts his lean so he's looking mainly towards the whispering gathering. "But if we're going to talk 'imitating', you can't just point fingers one way. How many Nebulans have become -more- mechanical in order to fight at our sides?" Turns his head just enough to center his gaze on Cross. "For -how- long did the EDC use war machines that imitated our level of weaponry, our -transformation- in order to fight us? Now I ask you, just whom is 'imitating' whom?" After a pause Swindle pushes off the podium, and steps back down onto the floor. "How many other species out there regard -you- as 'alive' merely because your culture and psychological views are different? Do you think aliens abduct rednecks for probing because they regard humans as equals? And the Autobots? Pah! The Autobots claim nobility, but let’s face it, you're little more than a curiosity, a playtime pet to them. Give them a few more centuries, they'll get bored of you soon enough." The Combaticon stops, seemingly having picked up on the dissention amongst the US and Friends as he leans a bit closer to their table. ""But let’s be honest here. You think we are no more than extremely clever automatons... do you know how most Decepticons regard you? As tiny little pests," Swindle clenches one hand up into a fist," mere carbon based insects to be squashed under their heels to take what we desire! The Empire is a life of conquest and domination. Do we care about you and how you feel? Of course not!" Purple optics narrow a bit more as he leans closer. "Are -those- the sort of beings you want to give legal rights to, when most of them would not give two spits in an oil slick about this entire matter?" Standing up and turning, he starts to walk back towards his seat, but stops partway to just glance over his shoulder towards the delegates. "Point is, your kind and our kind aren't as different in some ways as you think..." Gives it a dismissive wave as he returns to his chair. "But that doesn't really matter because you're going to do what you think is right to your way of thinking regardless, just as Megatron did when he deemed Earth worthy of his conquest." Galvatron smiles in approval, nodding slowly with a distant expression in his eyes, a dream of conquest and fire. Combat: Swindle compares his Intelligence to 70: Success! The delegates treat the argument as they would any other. At first. Then they get angrier and angrier and angrier. And yet, at the same time, they begrudgingly realize that the slimy Combaticon has a fair point. A United Nations guard steps up to a big screen TV and puts cassette into a VCR. That's right, VHS format 4ever, baby. Needlenose's face appears on the monitor. He's on Mars, apparently just outside Trypticon. "Sup, United Nations? Sup?" He waits, figuring that everyone in the audience is going to reply with 'nah much bro. sup with you?' in unison. They probably don't, though. "Just chillin'," Needlenose answers the imaginary response. "So like, I'm Needlenose. Believe it or not, I'm probably your biggest fan in the Decepticon Empire. You guys are the tops! Your toys? Your cartoons? Your cartoons about toys? Awesomesauce." "But as you're gonna totally make a big ass decision here, I think you gotta listen to all sides. Specifically, m- I mean, the Decepticon Ministry of Public Relations's official statement on the matter. Go on. Go on and read it." Bboard 9/20, folks. "I'll just wait here until you look it up." Needlenose does exactly that, just standing there for sixty seconds. Just as the guard is about to turn off the message with the assumption that it's over, Needlenose starts again. "So in conclusion, humanity rocks, but humanity also needs to balls up. So while you're balling up, think about joining the Decepticon Empire, cuz I think we'd be awesome together. Just call 1-800-CON-4-YOU. Peace out, humanity! FREE TIBET!" ~click~ There's some confused applause from the delegates, who stare at each other as if hoping their fellows will explain what just happened there. Swindle is sitting in his seat with a smug snake in the grass expression. That doesn't change even after Needlenose's 'speech'. Because that was elegant in its simplicity. Sec Gen Bahir nods at the Decepticons, though that last message from Needlenose has left him looking a little befuddled. "Al...right. Let's move on to the next point of discussion. General Cross, would you please?..." Cross approaches the podium again, adjusting the microphone. "So, the Autobots have argued that they are alive. They also seem to believe that rights should be granted to beings that possess "sapience." But many beings possess sapience, including on this planet. For instance, dolphins are considered to be sapient by some marine biologists." He brings up a holo of a dolphin staring, enthralled, at its own reflection at a mirror in its pool. The dolphin spins about in front of the mirror and does othe tricks. "And some alien races possess a great deal of intelligence, but do not think as we do. Consider the Kk'chik worker bug." A holo pops up of a Starship Troopers-esque alien working on an exposed hull panel for some starship, tying wires together. "This insectoid being can understand and interpret instructions to repair machinery and perform other tasks, demonstrating great technical savvy and decision-making. But if you asked it if it had a bad day, or how it feels, you'd get no response. That is because this alien doesn't understand those concepts, not like the castes above it do." He closes the holos. "So, gentlemen, how do the Conventions deal with those scenarios? Should we grant dolphins Geneva Conventions protections? Should we grant them to aliens that don't even understand whether or not they SHOULD have rights? My answer is that it's a moot point. As written, the Conventions only extend those rights to humans. Call it speciesism if you wish, but there are far too many factors to consider to grant these rights to a being simply for being intelligent or sapient. If we want to make exceptions we should do so on a case-by-case basis *only* and not grant those rights in broad strokes. Thank you." He sits down. "Your rebuttals?" the Sec Gen says. Wreck-Gar frowns momentarily, as he recognises that he did poorly in his first attempt to sway the delegates, but at least he was able to arrange for the last minute footage of BotCon to be used in First Aid's speech. He'll call that a push. When his time comes up again, he'll make his return to the podium. Gripping it for a moment, he looks up, feeling the hot lights pouring down upon him. If he were a human, he might be sweltering under the heat. "Uh . . . " But then, just as he seemed to be at his worst, he turned on the charm. "Evolution, Evolution, Evolution!" He follows each word with a clap of his hand, "Some of you might not see how you could have come from monkeys, but you did. You've got a common ancestor with primates, just as we Junkions have a common ancestor with Autocons, Deceptibots, whatever!" He isn't too sure what to call them. "It isn't that one day a monkey had a human baby or anything remotely like that, although there are some videos on the internet that would argue that." He shudders. "Like you and the Chimps, we Junkions split from those guys," and he points at the Autobots and Decepticons. "We live on the planet of Junk, we have to worry about pirates, not armies; we have to repair ourselves from scrap, not spare parts; and no, we don't know Jimmy, Sally, or Suzy from Canada, although I'm sure they're very nice. Junkions are distinct. My laser core is not here," he points to his chest, where Cybertronian ones are located, "or here," he points to his head, where human brains are located, "or even here," and he points to his crotch, hopefully for some laughter. Then, he does something that no sane Autobot or Decepticon would do. He pulls out an axe, and cuts off his left arm. It falls to the ground, making a loud thud. "I am Wreck-Gar," he puts the axe away and picks the other arm up, pressing it into the podium for support, as he reattaches the limb, "and I am a Junkion." "Your honours, we are in a crucible. We're here to burn away the irrelevancies until we are left with a proper product: the truth! And I know, in my laser core, that you can handle it. I am intelligent, able to learn and understand, and cope with new situations. I am self-aware, as I am taking part in a legal assembly to determine my rights under the terms of the Geneva Convention, am I a person. I've already met two of the Star Trek criteria for sentience, so what if I meet the third, consciousness in even the smallest degree? What am I then?" First Aid leans over to Blades, "Not a fan of this part of the debate," he asides, "We're just wasting time that could be spent on the more important arguments. Legally the conventions /don't/ apply. The question in my mind at least is whether the UN should make a new law to cover aliens." Combat: Wreck-Gar compares his Leadership to 75: Success! Blades just shrugs and admits, "Not a fan of /any/ of this. But hey, politics is all about wasting time, right?" Elita One has a pleased look on her face. Perhaps Wreck-Gar wasn't as clumsy as she initially thought, certainly he was a little demonstrative, but he showed passion, and that alone would be enough to sway someone at least. As he returns to the Bot side, she gives a measure of approval, snorting 'Deceptibots.' Marissa Faireborn grits her teeth and sighs quietly, still quiet. Elita One returns to the podium. "As it stands...The Geneva Convention, while written with compassion and guided by wisdom, was not intended for other sapient life. This is because there was none known about on Earth during most of humanity's civilization." Elita raises a hand from the podium towards the assembly, "Do the great scripts of Europe and the United States mention Cybertronians? or Nebulons?" She steps forward a bit, around the structure, her voice carrying for her. "To the creators of these documents, alien life was simply a dream, a fantasy to muse over in science fiction or in daydreams..." "There have been many, many great works of comparison in human culture, marvelous concepts and foundries of ideals." She starts pacing as she talks, her hands behind her back. "The sheer utter compassion of the human race itself can be staggering, surmounted only by the struggle to maintain culture, to maintain purpose and cause....something we can relate to as well." She stops before the podium again, "When these great tracts were written, we were not included. Alien life was not included. This does not mean that humanity can claim abject rule over other species. A single document, a full treaty of vellum does not authorize a race, ANY species to be condemned, stripped of rights and respect." Elita bawls up her fist, "Our greatest leader said on several occasions, "Freedom is the right of ALL sentient beings....He was mistaken." She lets that sink in, though only the Autobot side may really understand the gravitas of her words. "Freedom....and DIGNITY are the rights that all sapient beings should be accorded to, by ANY species that claims a hint of civility. This is a right all beings should be able to live with. You cannot live in a cultured, civilized world when you refute these basic rights to others." Elita returns to the podium, passionate words on her lips. "Does the Geneva Convention apply to Cybertronians? To Junkions, Nebulons? To all the space-faring species among the stars?.....It doesn't state so, but that doesn't mean that these sentiments are exclusive! These basic dignities are required, recognized by some of your greatest politicians as irrevocable truths of life! To acknowledge outside species in this act will be known as a landmark achievement for humanity to prove humanity's outstanding, enlightened state." Her voice lowers from the forceful presence of moments earlier, "Don't do this because of threats...or of reminders of help. Don't feel obligated to concede this point because of what you deal with. Do this because you know in your very hearts that this is just and proper." Elita walks off stage. The delegates do pay attention to Wreck-Gar's argument, nodding, and even laughing politely at his arguments. Swindle leans over past Galvatron to whisper to his alien companion. "I was never good at defining metapsychologies, as newly appointed Decepticon Legal Consul I suggest you take this one." The alien leans over and replies to Swindle, "I've prepared materials. It should be a slam dunk." Combat: Elita One compares her Leadership to 60: Success! First Aid says, "I'm going to do something kind of stupid, Blades." Blades tries to grab First Aid by the shoulder and says seriously, "Tell me what I need to do to end up in the same jail cell as you." The delegates applaud Elita's argument! Indeed, there's a lot of nodding and whatnot after that one. First Aid chuckles, "No, I'm just going to go up without a prepared speech." First Aid steps up to the podium once more. His confidence levels have gone up since he already made his main impassioned plea, and now we're onto the lighter stuff. "Compared to the last argument on whether Transformers and other aliens are alive, the question of whether the law applies to us is much easier: it does not. The wording of the Geneva Convention is clear on this, but like General Cross said, it's a moot point. We're really here to ask on whether the UN should pass laws to cover aliens." For the second time, First Aid directly challenges Franklin Cross himself. "General Cross said he just can't figure out how to tell if an alien is alive or not. Kudos, General, I'm glad you're admitting your ignorance in this matter." First Aid claps for him. This may come as a shock given Aid's unfailing politeness towards the EDC Leader. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm here to tell you that deciding what factors should be used is not. That. Hard. Humanity is not the first to run into this 'problem'. The Assembly of Worlds has guidelines on this sort of thing. Look at how the Brandaxians have done it, or the Kwarchans, or the Femaxians. The difficulty of making this law is not great." Aid once more looks at Cross. "General, you've never struck me as someone afraid of a little bit of work. For something as important as determining the rules of war, don't let laziness be your guiding light." Aid steps down. Elita One smiles, clapping for First Aid. "Well done, a bit more bureaucratic than call to justice, but done with respect and foresight. Even Cross may be pleased with that." Swindle ... starts snickering, when even the goody-two-shoes Autobots are taking subtle jabs at Cross Combat: First Aid compares his Leadership to 70: Failure :(Blades claps and cheers even more loudly than before for First Aid! Because, well, First Aid dissing anyone is a pretty rare sight, and in Cross's case, Blades feels it is justified. The dude is just a jerk. The delegates look around at themselves. A few mutter that maybe they could stand to be a little lazier? Yes, it seems that this time, laziness has won the day. Galvatron frowns thoughtfully at First Aid's argument. "So the doctor prefers pragmatism in his philosophy. Lessons of triage." Barkida, who has been uncomfortably hidden in the background somehow (thankfully there were Transformers to hide behind), speaks up with uncharacteristic reluctance. "Lords of Earth!" she calls out, not quite loud enough and with a nervous crack in her voice, and then repeats it more clearly. "Lords of Earth! I have a message on this matter from my Noble Queen, the First One of Femax, if you will hear it!" Sec Gen Bahir nods his head and says, "Of course, proceed." After all, they let the Decepticons in, right? Or more likely, didn't object to them barging in. :(Swindle possibly paid off a guard or two from the less 'noble' countries too Barkida has obvious stage fright when it comes to public speaking. She has a visible sheen of sweat across her forehead and the nape of her neck as she steps to the podium and produces a golden ball about the size of a bowling ball, small enough to cup in the palm of her hand. She holds it up. It shines brightly, and a brilliant yellow light pours out of it, forming into a three-dimensional, forty foot tall image of an almost-human woman of surpassing beauty, with Barkida's hard jaw and aquiline nose, but a more cultured face and an absence of the warrior's musculature. The First One, seated on her throne with an enormous golden sword across her lap, leans forward as if she could see the Grand Assembly. "I am the First One," she says in a stern but soft voice. "My Fourth To Die tells me that a matter of import to our people is taking place far across the heavens, on your small-world home. If this matter concerns any of mine, it concerns me. The question at hand is whether persons not of your planet should be considered Full Persons and not slaves or beasts, I am told." "The matter is a simple one," the First One declares imperiously. "A Full Person, subject to the rule of Realm Law and having all rights and claims under and upon it, must have performed the Nine Rites of Age, not be Land-Bound to the property of another, unless that Land-Binder should manumit the claimant, and must of course be of Womanhood Born. The Star Machines are bound to no land, are ancient beyond measure, and possess no organs of Manhood. Therefore they are Full Persons under Realm Law. Let it be known throughout the Golden Realm- the First One has spoken!" She vanishes as the ball goes dark, and Barkida clears her throat. "That is all," Barkida adds, hurriedly, and performs a short bow, retreating as quickly as would be respectable. Diplomacy is not her caste's job! Due to an animation error, Elita One has mobile eyebrows for her reaction shot, which displays her with a mildly confused eyebrow-lifted look on her face as she puzzles through Barkida's words. First Aid watches the video nervously. Oh Primus, the First One (not to be confused with the First Aid) might say just about /anything/ and it'd be unpredictable. Aid's optics widen as the First One speaks and declares Transformers alive thanks to... ahem. Yep, Aid's prediction was right: he couldn't have predicted it. Blades tries to elbow First Aid, and he whispers, "Hey. Did she just call us all girls?" Blades is definitely baffled by this development. "...Didn't see that coming." Swindle murmurs, somewhere between surprised and amused. "Well technically being a girl is more than just not having a penis," First Aid explains, "For starters-" The delegates are awed by the beautiful, gigantic face that appears before them, and by her grace and elegance. If she had simply argued in favor of the Transformers being granted rights they might have done so on the spot, just like that. Sadly, she didn't, and her bizarre reasoning breaks the spell. "...what?" one of them says aloud, cutting through the silence like a knife. Elita One clasps her hand over First Aid's mouthplate. First Aid says, "Mmmphph mphph. mmphph?" Blades is spared an anatomy lesson by Elita One's strong hand! Galvatron sniffs derisively. It's a good thing nobody knows about Ravage. Sec Gen Bahir turns towards the Decepticons. "Ahem. And your... counter-arguments, sirs?" Galvatron does not deign to directly address the General Assembly. Instead he glances meaningfully at his attorney, who rises to address the assembly. With the lights on him, one can see that he's surprisingly bulky, under his suit; almost as broad as he is tall. The light gleams off of his small and widely set black-on-black eyes as he scans the room and shuffles papers in his large three-fingered hands. "Gentlemen," the alien begins. His mouth goes all the way across his head and is filled with row upon row of pearly triangular sawteeth. "And others. I am informed that this is merely an informational hearing, not a trial. It is good for the Autobots and their friends that it is not. If this was a trial, it would already be over." The alien holds up a small bundle of paper- it can't be more than half a dozen pages. "This is a demurrer which I have already prepared, merely as practice for the eventuality that the matter does, eventually, go to trial. The question of law at hand was so elementary that this demurrer took me less than half an hour to compose. Allow me to read a brief excerpt from The Universal Declaration of Human Rights, reproduced herein." He clears his throat; a fine, cool mist sprays from under his collar, hissing from some mechanism hidden within his suit. "Article one, and I quote: all human beings are free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood. End quote. Regardless of what pretty notions the plaintiffs may have regarding sapience, or sincerity of emotion, or personal heroism, or arguments regarding the nature of life and existence, the Cybertronians are not human. 'All human beings.' They are not that. That is all there is to it. It does not matter if their claims are true. They have no case. The verbiage is clear: 'all human beings.' There is no argument to be had, here." The alien tosses the demurrer onto the table and clasps his hands behind his back, pacing out from the dock. "But let us humor them a little longer. Let us pretend that human law was not intended for human beings. The 'natural person,' as he, or she, is termed. Let us imagine for a moment that a new Declaration was drafted and put forth by this Assembly, recommending to the member nations that they draft individual laws to expand the definition of the 'natural person.' Expanding it to encompass all living, thinking creatures. Myself, for instance. My client, the Decepticon Overlord Galvatron. The Autobots, naturally. The Nebulans. The non-human primates. They are of course, sapient as well. Dolphins and porpoises. Elephants, I am told. Dogs, cats. Bears. Shall we deny rights to thinking beings, fellow Earthlings, even, simply because they are incapable of speech? Simply because, although intelligent, they are not quite AS intelligent as human beings? If a human is born with congenital brain damage rendering him no more capable of advanced thought than a horse, is he no longer a person? Why, then, are horses not persons? " The alien adjusts his tie and grins like a wood chipper. "This is a difficult matter, you can see. Consider where it leads, what precedent you might set, were you to create a new Declaration to override the old. Do you honestly want to be the General Assembly that tackles the matter of non-human intellect? Having been so, do you imagine that the member nations will agree with it? Bearing in mind that, of course, the United Nations derives its funding from the considerate donations of its member nations, and that no declaration it makes is, in itself, binding. Is this a matter you feel confident of putting your necks on the block for, Gentlemen? The civil rights of swine? Is humanity ready to take that step, and recognize the continuum of mind among Earthlings other than themselves, even while they gorge themselves on the flesh and drape themselves in the carcasses of those same lesser minds? Where, on Earth, are even human beings, the self-declared pinnacle, the self-made masters, granted the rights that this pretty Declaration guarantees? When the extent of your vaunted human law is that the rich man and the poor man alike are forbidden from stealing a crust of bread, do you think yourselves ready to grant rights to all thinking life? Do you think yourselves capable? Would you bet your power and position on it, the respect of your fellow man, the support of your bloodthirsty, savage constituencies? Consider the matter carefully." He seats himself and arranges his papers. Elita One shrugs indifferent to the grandiose speech. Such matters were already addressed, to her there was no merit, however the barrister was eloquent, and stood a chance of swaying the crowd. First Aid, one free, spares Blades the rest of the explanation. He has a book he can go over with him later once they're back at base. He does, however, mutter in regards to the man speaking, "Yes yes, we all agree that the law currently does not include aliens. We need to /make/ some that /do/." But then the alien does just that in his argument. Ultimately it goes towards the idea that 'figuring out who should have rights is very hard'. Aid agrees, but disagrees that it shouldn't be done. "Who knows where we should draw the line, so let’s just assume nobody is deserving of rights," Aid mutters sarcastically. Combat: Galvatron compares his Intelligence to 55: Success! Swindle does nod approvingly at Galvatron's representative's arguments. Slam dunk indeed. First Aid sighs, "Time to do something else quasi-stupid." Sec Gen Bahir nods, eyeing the anthropomorphic alien being with trepidation. "Alright, ah, thank you Mr...?" He decides it's best not to know this creature's name. "Well, now that we've covered those topics, we'll move on to closing arguments. Whatever you think you have to say that will reinforce the points you've made so far, now's the time to say it, gentlemen. General?" General Cross approaches the podium again. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it is time to end this farce. The Cybertronians are not alive and I think I've produced enough scientific evidence to support that argument. Even that aside, the Geneva Conventions were not written with them in mind. How could they be? And revising the Conventions to include other species would open up a whole series of issues which I frankly don't think we're ready for. And besides..." He boldly strolls right up to Galvatron, within stomping range of him, and points up at him. "The Decepticons themselves are telling us that we shouldn't do it! Do you understand that, representatives? They don't want the rights the Autobots are so keen on granting them! Now, there could be any number of reasons for doing so, but the simple fact of the matter is, they don't want it, so you know what? Let's not give it to them. Let's not give them the chance to turn our own sympathies against us. Thank you all." He returns to his seat. Sec Gen Bahir looks at the Autobots. "Ahem. Rebuttals?" Blades sighs and mutters, "Just let me know if you need to hide any bodies, First Aid." First Aid says, "Not /every/ plan needs to involve stabbing." "Yeah, some involve shooting people in the back," Blades agrees amiably. "Shooting the head is more effective," Swindle comments good-naturedly towards the Protectobots with a grin that's anything but reassuring. First Aid steps up for the third time, "I'd like to thank the First One, Noble Queen of Femax, for her speech. I thought it was very well done. I know it may have confused some, but the theory they use is that men are not people. Personally, I think that works and the United Nations should follow that guiding principle." He looks to you-know-who. "Sorry, General, you are not a person." He points at some more in the crowd, all men. "Nor you, you, you, or you." He looks to Amber, "Ms. MacKenzie, congratulations, you are a person and thus deserving of rights." Aid looks out to the assembly, "Thank you for your time." First Aid steps away from the podium, but then stops. He turns back to meet any confused looks he might be getting, and then returns to the podium. "I'm sorry, some people didn't seem to like that idea? You think that might impact your ability to carry out diplomatic missions with Femax if they believe your ambassador is not alive?" he feigns confusion. "Well, no worries, we can adopt the General Cross method. Or the preferred Decepticon option, as even he admits. None of you are people. Best hope nobody ever captures any human in war. Thanks and good night, everyone!" First Aid waves and turns from the podium. You missed your calling, Aid, he thinks to himself. You could have gone far as an actor. This time, though, he doesn't even bother putting on a show of stepping away. "I see that people don't seem to like that idea either. It seems like Earth wouldn't want to cooperate with anyone who doesn't think they're alive." Aid furrows his brow. "Well, that's ok, I'm sure the trillions of other inhabitants in the galaxy won't feel the same way." Aid pauses. "No? We are unsatisfied with letting the Decepticons have their way? Perhaps, then, Earth must think up their *own* laws. I know General Cross prefers not having to work that hard, but I have, and always will have, faith in humanity to do the right thing. Thank you." In a section largely reserved for the media, a human-looking alien stood. There wasn't really anywhere else for him to stand, and he didn't want to take his chances by being in the mass of Cybertronians, Junkions, and other supremely large aliens. This alien happens to be wearing a yellow lab coat, red dress shirt with Japanese writing, and silver goggles. His white hair is long, except on top. There, he's as bald as a baby. This is of course that crazy old coot, Doc Arcana, the Nebulon who co-developed the master process. When his name is mentioned, he'll squeeze through the mass of media, who suddenly photograph him, "Excuse me, excuse me, will you let me through, please, excuse me." When he finally reaches the human-sized podium, he announces himself, "Hello, my name is Doctor Arcana. This may come as a shock to you, but I'm really an alien, from the planet Nebulos, though we sometimes call it Nebulon. Like you, we come in a wide variety of colours. In addition to my skin colour, I suppose you could call it pink; there are Nebulons who are brown, green, or blue. No yellow, orange, or red, and it would take too much time to explain. That's not important anyway. What is important is that we came into contact with the Transformers, and into conflict. Some of us sided with the Decepticons, some with the Autobots. The Decepticons conquered my planet, ruling it for over a year before the Autobots were able to help us drive them from our world." Arcana seems to have lost his train of thought here, then, as a proverbial light bulb goes off above his head, "Ah, yes, I am an alien, but I am no different from you. Like you, we've been caught up in this war, and I can tell you, from personal experience, that Autobots are sentient. You see, I am the one who co-developed the mater process. I've binary-bonded myself to a young Autobot scientist named Brainstorm, and I am responsible for all the other masters, be they head, target, or power. Those of us who have undergone this procedure can speak directly to the mind, or laser core as they like to call it, of the person we're bound to. He's young and inexperienced, his mind lacks discipline, but Brainstorm is very much alive, and I'd be happy to walk anyone whose interested on how I can prove that, medically speaking." Combat: First Aid compares his Leadership to 65: Success! Encore nods as he listens to First Aid, applauding Combat: Brainstorm compares his Technical to 75: Success! Encore also applauds Arcana Elita One takes the stage again for the last time. "We've said a lot today...a great deal of moral, ethical information to digest. We Autobots have shown you all that we are here today. We're not perfect, no. Some of our members who chose to speak here, did not do so with chrome...er silver tongues, but they felt the need to voice themselves. We all have different capabilities, different attributes, and personalities. It is no different than any assorted groups of humans who rally together, who believe in a cause." She gestures across to the EDC, "Now, to address the most well thought out argument against us, was a Quintesson I had the opportunity to meet not long ago." She motions to Apocryphacius. "He gave you an unfiltered look into some of our policies and concerns. Some of these hit very close to home. Yes, we need to reevaluate our policies, to ensure our deeds match up with our words. I too, have done things I am not proud of, in the belief that what I do serves the general interest. We can learn from what has been said here today in a number of ways. We are not flawless, or perfect here. We are just as much alive as the rest of you, and that means we have issues to work on. Hopes to aspire to." These questions before you, "Questions of true life, questions of accountability...it is a heavy matter to discuss. Do you have the mettle?....The mettle to challenge these hard questions and truly discuss them further? To define what you believe is alive and what is not? The Decepticon attorney, as eloquent as he may be, insists that you'd have to give voting privileges to bears and dolphins. They're saying it is a slippery slope...that suddenly you'd have to give rights to farm animals and trees...." She pauses, "This IS a slippery slope, but one to deny others their base rights. Don't do this. Don't let fear and trepidation keep you from your duty. Every living soul deserves dignity and respect, the chance to make their own choice. Make your own choice today, don't let naysayers convince you otherwise." She pauses as if for a breath, "Defensor said one eloquent thing an hour ago, he said that even if you voted against this ruling we seek, that we will still be at your side. That is true. We are humanity's ally here, despite any harsh words, despite any incidents. We walk this journey together, good men and women. Show us that you're the ones we look up to, the ones who inspire us to greatness along side you....Thank you." Blades continues to cheer on First Aid as he has in the past, though First Aid getting his troll on is kind of strange and alarming. Combat: Elita One compares her Leadership to 60: Success! Perceptor makes his way up to the podium slowly, his optics still focused downward on the datapad he's holding. He actually starts speaking as he is walking even though he isn't looking at the audience. Not exactly the most charismatic thing to do, but the scientist never was one for diplomatic speeches--though he was accustomed to giving research presentations. "The Quintesson is correct on one point, at least..." he confirms before he's finally standing upstage and facing the audience. "I will not deny the fact that we Autobots have made mistakes in the past and will most likely continue to do so in the future. No single civilization is utterly perfect and without error, humans included. To suggest that humans deserve rights that Cybertronians should not share is, well, absurd. Furthermore, to say that the humans do not owe us anything is also quite absurd." He is being rather blunt, but Perceptor never was one for social tact, either. "In fact, they owe their very presence upon the galactic stage to us, as well as their advanced state of technological being. 86.4% of all known organic races in the galaxy were, given the same quantity of time the humans have had thus far but free of alien influence, incapable of reaching beyond the limits of their planets of origin. Observe." He then turns to the holographic projector, which displays a timeline detailing major accomplishments made by various galactically known organic civilizations. According to the diagram, the humans have indeed achieved technological advancements such as space travel much sooner on their timelines of existence as a sapient civilization than races that had been free of alien influence. More diagrams come up, comparing human tech to Cybertronian and highlighting the similarities. In fact, even those who are not quite technically inclined would probably be inclined to deduce, just from that information alone, that many of those devices had been reverse-engineered from Cybertronian technology. "Now," he continues, "As for the argument that Cybertronians are not sapient, I believe a simple demonstration would be appropriate." He again turns to the projector, and the images change again. This time, a video with a split screen is shown. One side depicts a room with a group of humans in front of a TV, and the other depicts that same room but instead with a group of Autobot gumbies in front of a TV. It is apparent from the feed that both parties are watching the same program, which is also played in a small box located at the bottom center of the display. And as the footage progresses, it is made quite evident that both groups have the same or similar responses to the program. Their eyes/optics widen at the suspenseful parts, they laugh at the funny parts, and they cry and hug each other at the sad parts. Plenty of awwws at the cute parts, too, and swearing at the characters that make the viewers angry. Different swear words, of course--'frag', 'slag', and 'glitch' on the part of the Autobots and 'shit', 'damn' and the like on the part of the humans. And for good measure, next a short clip of the same only with a dog and a turbofox is shown. The animals simply run about the room, sniffing about, making feral noises and glancing at the screen every once and a while. When the videos end, Perceptor shuts off the projector. "As you can clearly see, the Cybertronians exhibited similar emotional responses when exposed to the same stimuli as the humans, whereas the non-sapients were simply that: non-sapient, regardless of whether they were organically or mechanically based life-forms." He steps down from the podium. "Thank you." First Aid watches Perceptor's lecture intently, knowing it's going to appeal to his scientific nature. First Aid didn't go that route himself, but he's glad that Perceptor and Arcana did. He elbows Blades gently part way through, pointing at the holo display. "As The Kitchen Sinks. I think I remember that episode." Combat: Perceptor compares his Technical to 60: Success! Marissa Faireborn waits in the back of the room until all have said their peace, and finally decides to say hers. She has been wearing a coat over her formal uniform, and now slips out of it and walks down the isle slowly. "Excuse me. I believe I have something to say." She is much thinner than the last time many saw her, but she's obviously had her formal uniform tailored to fit her well and all of her ribbons and brass have been polished and shined properly. "May I have a moment to address the delegates and assembled guests?" There's gasps and confused muttering from the delegates as Marissa arrives! Even General Cross is wide-eyed at her sudden entrance! Secretary General Bahir needs a few moments to collect himself before he finally says, "Oh, ah--of course, Ms. Faireborn, ah, the floor is yours!" First Aid's optics widen and he twists in his seat towards where Marissa is walking in. A murmur passes through the Autobot section. He begins texting Amber from the shock of seeing Earth Defence Command's General make her return to the spotlight. First Aid sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: OMG! Elita One keeps an eye on Franklin Cross, even as her spark is lifted by seeing Marissa about. Never know when he could pull a pistol or some nonsense. Amber MacKenzie sends a radio message to First Aid: Indeed. First Aid sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: Did you know she was here? Marissa Faireborn nods and takes the podium, her posture ridged, showing no sign of weakness other than how thin she has become. There is color in her cheeks and a fire in her eyes. "To my fellow humans, to all those who have come from the stars to visit our planet, I bid you welcome." Her eyes carefully look over the entire assembly, meeting many eyes, never flinching away from those who might call her enemy or vice versa. Taking a slow breath, she continues as her eyes never stop looking out amongst those assembled. "We have heard many convincing, emotional, inspirational and even damning speeches given here during this hearing. I do not know if any of them have changed your minds on how you feel in regards to whether you believe that mech-kind are living or about the Convention ruling, but before the final vote is cast, I want you to consider a few things. "It is very arrogant of us to think that even if the Autobots and Decepticons never discovered our planet, never crash landed here millions of years ago, that at some point in time in our history, we haven't or wouldn't be visited by other alien races. As First Aid pointed out earlier, there are only nine billion humans on earth, but over ten trillion aliens out among the stars. For many years before the Autobots awoke, there were alien sightings, conspiracy theories about government cover-ups in regards to extraterrestrial contact, and the human race was wild about Area 51. We came to find out many years later, that yes, we had been visited by a number of alien races, and yes the government had covered them up for fear that the human race wasn't ready for the knowledge that we weren't alone and the center of the Universe." She smiles slightly at this. "So, today we must come to the realization that we are part of a much bigger community that spans the length of this Universe, and that if one race didn't bring their war to our planet, inevitably, another one eventually would have. War, like disease, cannot be contained, cannot stay in one spot for long. Such is the way with life. It is even such with our own bodies and how it deals with bacteria and virus', constantly waging war to keep itself healthy. Sometimes it is successful at combating foreign bodies that might harm it, sometimes not. Other times, our bodies' systems even turn on themselves to wage war internally. And sometimes those aforementioned foreign bodies that invade our persons can be beneficial in helping build up immunities to deadlier diseases. Such is the same with our world. We have to take the good with the bad, because to consider ourselves better or above those in the Universe, be they mech, Quintesson, Nebulan or any number of the multitude of other races we've met in the years since the Autobots and Decepticons awoke on our soil would be sheer arrogance on our part and only show our immaturity and inability to take our place amongst the stars." Taking a moment to scan the room again, she continues. "I want you to consider that no matter what you feel about the mechs that have come to inhabit, help, hinder or terrorize our planet, if not for their existence here, there are many technological advances in today's society that would not exist. Many things have come from their knowledge and ingenuity, such as machines to help save lives, weapons to take them, machines to help build bigger, better, stronger buildings, better and smaller electronics, interstellar space travel, and much more. I challenge each and every one of you to look at the things in your home and your office and see if you are living a life without something that was influenced by their intervention." She is silent for a moment, then speaks as her eyes hold to someone in the crowd for a moment before moving on. "If not for the aliens we've met and that have come to our soil, if not for the knowledge and ability given to us to be able to achieve interstellar space travel, we would not have access to the new forms of raw materials that have become so highly desired by the Earth's population. We have been able to go 'where no man has gone before', to explore new worlds and bring back raw materials, finished goods and products that have become very important to many of this planet. And the discoveries are just beginning. This is a big Universe and we've only explored just a portion of it. Who knows what else there is yet to find?" There is a hint of firmness behind her words, a sense of the thrill of adventure. Her hand clenches into a fist and she holds it in front of her. "But if we as a race, the dominate class on this planet, begin to make rulings that exclude all but our own race, we risk the possibility of closing ourselves off from the many opportunities of obtaining allies, new technology, new materials, all of which can advance the human race to be something better than what we are now." She opens her hand. "If we keep ourselves open to the possibilities presented by other alien races, letting them know that they have a place to come and sell or trade their goods so long as they abide by our laws and customs, just as we have to abide by theirs if we visit their world, then the future for the human race can be so much brighter. True, we risk exposing ourselves to the worst elements that come with the good, but with proper management, proper laws and the trust of our fellow space travelers, these can be kept to a minimum and dealt with properly. Other worlds have managed. Perhaps we should look to their examples to see how they have managed it, and see what we can use to make it work for us." Amber MacKenzie sends a radio message to First Aid: Yes. She looks around at the delegates, then at Cross, then at those assembled. "Perhaps it is time to start anew. Perhaps it is time to join with the rest of the Universe and advanced societies. But until then, just remember that what you vote on today will set a precedent for what comes tomorrow. Will we close ourselves off, try to be safe and stagnate, or do we open ourselves up, take a risk, learn and grow?" With that, she quietly leaves the podium and walks back down the aisle she came down, heading to the back of the room where she left her coat. She has said all that she can. The rest is up to them. First Aid sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: Wow, this is great she's here! Elita One looks down towards Marissa, trying not to beam in admiration, but failing, utterly failing. Her hands are clasped together now as she says in a low, simple tone. "Well done....well done." At least now, Elita knows that the person she defied EDC orders for was indeed worth all the risk. Encore applauds Marissa loudly. "Well said, luv. Well said!" Amber MacKenzie shows a bit of worry now. She was both for and against this debut, considering that they're surrounded with EDC forces, but she can see the rationale. She applauds enthusiastically, despite her worry, and continues looking around for MIB. First Aid stands up and cheers for Marissa. Hers was a strategic argument behind granting rights to aliens, though the emotional benefit of just having here presence helps immensely as well. Galvatron clenches his fist in deep irritation as applause breaks out throughout the room over this one human talking up the Autobots to the other humans. "Cringing sycophants!" he hisses to his legal team. Combat: Marissa Faireborn compares her Leadership to 40: Success! Wreck-Gar, feeling a little guilty for his earlier comments on a subspace channel, decides to rectify it, by making good. Towards that end, he starts to scan the crowd, looking for someone who shouldn't be too hard to see. Still, it is a big, and diverse crowd, with Femaxians, Cybertronians, Nebulons, Humans, Junkions, and Quintessons, or at least one. He raises a hand to cover the glare from the lights into his optics, "Quint-esson, you tiny little Quint-esson , you precious little Quint-esson, where are you?" Perceptor applauds as well, nodding his approval at the same time. He is quite impressed with Faireborn. The Autobot scientist had thought, for the most part in the past, of humans as being rather inferior to Cybertronians. But lately, the actions of a few exceptional ones have made him reconsider that notion. Namely, Andi Lassiter and Marissa Faireborn. The delegates stand up and begin to applaud wildly! Even Sec Gen Bahir forgets himself and applauds. Cross meanwhile, sits forlorn on his chair, staring off at nothing, his hands shaking. The representatives from the US, Russia, France, and China glare murderously at Faireborn as she stalks off. "Thank you, thank you, Ms. Faireborn!" Bahir says. "Now, closing arguments from those OPPOSED to granting Geneva protections to aliens?..." Marissa Faireborn settles herself back amongst the humans at the back of the room, neither siding with the EDCers or Ex-EDCers in the crowd or the Autobots. An island unto herself at the moment. Her cheeks flush just slightly with the applause and she notes out of the corner of her eye which delegates don't stand up. Apocryphacius is... annoyed. His faces click a bit, ratcheting towards Wrath, but he calms himself, and they spin back down to Judgement. Looking somewhat perturbed, he takes the stage and says, "The Autobots have somewhat distorted my words. I do not think they have done so in a consciously malicious fashion, but it pains me nonetheless. I have never suggested that humanity is perfect nor that perfection is a requirement for being granted rights. Moreover, Elita One may promise many nice things, but promises are empty unless fulfilled." "No, my point is simple. If they want legal coverage, they need to follow the laws. Consistently and in an orderly fashion. They do not." "I also find it inappropriate to say that the humans owe the Autobots. They are guests. They may offer their assistance if they like, and their assistance, when helpful, is appreciated. However, the guest/host relationship is not one of debts, and it remains the host's prerogative to make rules as the host likes. I am tempted to ask, 'Do the native tribes of the Pacific /owe/ the Europeans?'" He pauses. Technology. Disease. Death. War. Have the Autobots not brought all of these double-edged swords? However, mindful of his audience, he does not elaborate. "Go on, Autobots. Obey human laws for a year. No speeding tickets. No property destruction. No kidnappings. See if you can manage it. While you are at it, amend your /own/ laws. If you captured Dr. Arkeville, would you /really/ put him to trial? Or would just... let the Decepticons step on him, hmm? Accidentally on purpose, as it is said? Go on, give all sophonts civil rights in your own laws." "If you can?" He seems seriously dubious. "Then come talk." Combat: Apocryphacius compares his Intelligence to 70: Success! The delegates applaud! However, one of them wonders aloud, "What the hell is a sophont?" As the others are giving closing arguments Swindle opens an arm compartment and pulls out a robot-sized smart phone, dials, and holds it up to the side of his head. One can only imagine what sort of conversations those hushed tones are about. Probably to do with getting face companies set up to sell more weapons to the nations willing to deal through less legal means to protect themselves from 'lawless aliens' regardless of how the votes goes. Feigns as if not caring, but his optics occasionally glance about, clearly paying attention. Especially when the supposedly 'dead' Fairborne makes an appearance. Eventually he hangs up and puts the device away, then steeples his fingers together in front of him, not bothering to actually get up. "I think we've already made our case perfectly clear." Then that smug snakeoil smirk returns to his expression, the scheming spark glimmering in the shyster's optics. "It doesn't matter. Do whatever you want. Nothing is going to change if you decide we should follow your laws or be soulless beasts to exterminate. There won't suddenly be no Decepticons breaking slag and taking swag. There won't be space pirates attacking astro liners and selling off their treasure for cheap booze and pleasure holo-vids. I may have a fondness for your kind out of some twisted sort of respect for a race that despite being one fourth the age of our own yet made their own kind suffer for just as much war and atrocity, and possibly even more segregation amongst its own peoples; but the Empire as a whole has not nor ever had any attention to bow to your frivolous whims of trying to feel self important. The Decepticons aren't going to miraculously go away just because of this bureaucratic sideshow being done so you can claim you gave everyone a chance to say their piece and," he holds up his hands to make 'air quotes' with his fingers, " 'make a difference'." There's a pause as his gaze settles on Cross and his main supporters. "Change or no change is irrelevant. The real question is going to be if humanity, as your own saying goes, will be able to cash the checks its collective mouth is making. If you're really willing to become more like the monsters to fight the--" Swindle stops and looks down as his arm buzzes faintly. "--Sorry, business call. Carry on with whatever." And in a flagrantly dismissive display of just what he's saying resumes ignoring the proceedings to pull the smartphone out and answer it. Apocryphacius supplies helpfully, "A sapient being, sir." "I had to Google it," First Aid admits to Elita One. "Oh," the delegate says before his neighbors shush him. It's rude to interrupt Swindle's speech, after all, even if it is Swindle. Elita One shrugs, "I didn't know that specific term myself. Find it odd though that a good deal of sophonts here are calling us Transformers instead of Cybertronians? Do they know something I don't?" Wreck-Gar couldn't find Apocryphacius hiding in the crowd because the crafty little bugger chose to hide in plain sight, upon the podium. But Wreck-Gar isn't fooled for very long. Hearing the Quintesson speak, he turns to watch and listen. When the Quintesson is finished, Wreck-Gar will keep one optic on him, and make his way towards where he ends his movement. Offering a hand, he says, "My name is Wreck-Gar and I have it on good authority that you're a good Quintesson. I just wanted to shake your . . . uh . . . tentacle." Combat: Swindle compares his Leadership to 65: Success! Apocryphacius 's faces shift around, and he turns a rather dreadful smile upon Wreck-Gar. He does, however, offer a tentacle to shake to Wreck-Gar, and he notes, "Ah, yes, you're the Junkion that /hates Quintessons/. I am very pleased to meet you, sir." Apocryphacius transforms into his Apocryphacius mode. The delegates are steamed at what Swindle said and his blatant disrespect, and yet, they are forced to admit that, once again, he has a point! Galvatron sees fit to speak up for himself this time, and his voice is curdled with long-held disdain for his audience. "Earthlings, you know me. Swindle has spoken for me; he told you what you should already know; we consider you beneath us. To us you are like insects, and you will receive no mercy from me and my kind." Galvatron sneers, and it is evident in his expression that he is telling the unfiltered truth, at least in that. "My other representative also spoke for me; he reminded you that your very way of life is built on denying rights to feeling, thinking, living Earth-beings like yourself. You flay the meat from their bones and grind their bones to feed to their offspring, and think you are VIRTUOUS. You imprison, and torture, and slay each other in vast numbers, and think you are RIGHTEOUS." As Galvatron walks out to the podium he spits on the floor; the pale yellowish fluid hissing and etching into the marble. "Now I'll tell you what I think, myself. You are a JOKE. You play at governance, but you wield no power. You can't govern your own kind. This Assembly is a farce. It makes PRONOUNCEMENTS, and wags its FINGER, and tells the seething masses in the human hives what they should think, and it is laughed at. It is IGNORED. This vaunted Declaration of Rights, it is a fiction! This Convention, it is a thing of dreams and smoke! Do you realize where you sit, you self-satisfied, corpulent parasites?" Some of the audience starts to quickly pack up their things and slip out of their seats towards the emergency exits. The media crews look around for safe routes in anticipation of a crush of fleeing people. Galvatron goes on as if he hadn't noticed. "If you but step outside this very BUILDING you will find yourselves in the so-called United States of America, foremost among murderers, chief of terror among your wretched, puny kind, and your Convention means NOTHING there. Not even your host nation allows itself to be bound by your feeble, crooning idealism!" Galvatron seems to be building up energy and rage in equal measure. Maybe they're one and the same, for him. "You pretenders to power, how do you PRESUME to grant US rights? We have no NEED of anything you can GIVE, because we are DECEPTICONS, and what we WANT, we TAKE. What we CONSUME, we KILL. You, show mercy to us? I reject your mercy! It is an insult! Your power is as NOTHING before me." His yellow eyes flare like a fire leaping up. "Your mistake was not in whether you grant us mercy or no. Your mistake was in thinking you had the upper hand." Galvatron clenches his fist, a swirling red-gold sparkle of energy coruscating into his translucent cannon barrel in a double helix as he charges up with a deep, tooth-shaking hum which cracks the windows and rattles the panes. "NEVER underestimate MY power." Perceptor calmly keeps his sights on the back of Galvatron's head. Apocryphacius will have to worry about Wreck-Gar later. He is really not at all shocked by Galvatron's move. It was exceptionally likely, from a computational perspective. As an active duty EDC private, he tries his best to get the humans near him to evacuate calmly to an exit and tries to block Galvatron's line of fire on said humans with his own body. Combat: Galvatron compares his Leadership to 60: Success! Elita One raises her hand, "Get them clear!" She holds out her hand towards Galvatron, "Over here, you damn fool!" Purple and pink light flashes out from about her, encasing the entire building. Time slows to a standstill for the Cons, AND their lawyers. Strain crosses her face as she maintains the effect for as long as she can. Wreck-Gar joyfully shakes the tentacle, though not too hard. "Hate is a strong word," though he doesn't actually deny it, instead, he moves on. "The Quintesson Pan Galactic Co-Prosperity Sphere, hooboy that's a mouthful, has killed my Junkions, tried to capture and study us. We don't like that. But if Quintessons don't bother us, we won't bother them. And, seeing as you're a good Quintesson, if they," he nods his head towards the Decepticons, then the Autobots, "give you any trouble, you come see me. You've got a friend in me, and that's a promise." Blades does not go for his blades, as much as he wants to. No, instead, he focuses on evacuation. He is a Protectobot. They save lives, first and foremost. Taking lives is just Blades's hobby, and that means it gets put on the backburner right now. Marissa Faireborn watches as everyone starts to panic around her but she stands there without moving, her arms crossed. She knew what he was doing, using a scare tactic. If they gave into their fear and showed him their fear, it just gave him what he wanted. Swindle hangs up again, having told his previous caller purposely to call him back in a few moments just for that. Puts the phone away, and claps a few times regardless of what anyone else says or thinks. "Spoken like a true future tyrant of the universe, sir." First Aid's hand sloooowly falls to his side, ready to grab his photon pistol. He's picking out where he'll leap to in order to block the most delegates from Galvatron's firepower. He's actually barely listening to the speech (too bad because it was hot), as he's instead so focused on being ready to protect. As Galvatron charges his fusion cannon and Cross issues orders over the NEST frequency, Aid springs into action. Standing up just as Elita One begins her timestop, Aid a points a finger towards the far wall and fires a surgical laser burst... ...hit the fire alarm dead on. DING DING DING DING DING DING DING! Hopefully the delegates remember their fire drills and start leaving in an organized fashion! Amber MacKenzie leaves her seat and heads for Marissa, pushing through masses of fleeing delegates to reach her. "Time to step out, General." She glances over her shoulder at Cross, wondering if she should yell at him to do the same. Decisions, decision. Well, he's a big boy; he can make his own. Encore was making his way towards the Quintesson and Junkion when he hears the cannon whir up. He turns and sprints for Galvatron at full speed, leaping clean over a few humans as he charges for the Decepticon leader, head ducked down in what is quite clearly a football-styled charge. As Elita slows/stops time for the Cons, he leaps into the air in an attempt to take down the Decepticon leader - or at least get that cannon aimed out a window. "NOT ON MY WATCH!" Swindle of course then gets slowed in mid-clap. It looks really silly, were this not such a suddenly tense moment. Franklin Cross rises from his seat, reaching for his briefcase, seeming to be about to open it--but then time stops for certain individuals! He's confused at first. Why did Galvatron freeze in mid-air, even the energy on his cannon? Still... "Out, everyone out! No shoving!" Cross, meanwhile, approaches four of the delegates from the UNSC (US, Russia, China, and France) and leads them down an exit. He seems to want to make sure to protect them above all others! Marissa Faireborn looks at Amber, still not moving, arms crossed. "Why? He's being a bully. We're all panicking over him firing up his arm cannon. He didn't fire it...yet." Marissa Faireborn blinks and realizes that Galvatron went into suddenly still. "Huh..." And then her eyes focus on Franklin and the delegates he's trying to usher away, the ones she noted earlier. Curiousier and Curiousier...." "What's to stop him, ma'am? Respect for humanity? All the armed forces that couldn't prevent him from entering and who will likely not be able to stop him from leaving? He doesn't need to bluff," Amber mutters. "There are no rights in this universe but what you carve out for yourself!" rages Galvatron. "There is no law but what comes out of the barrel of a gun! There is no truth but within the reach of your own arm! What is all your philosophizing worth when your brains are a puff of steam?! Do you think you will care for what kindness you show the Decepticons when you are a BLOODY SMEAR? It is a luxurious FOLLY of the ignorant!" His voice is rising to a bellow to be heard over the noise of his gun. "Let me show you the ONE, the FINAL TRUTH: there is NO LAW! There is NO MERCY!" He throws out his arm and releases his power, a blinding beam of hydrogen fusion products searing out in slow motion towards Marissa. In the time bubble one can actually see it moving, crawling through the air like a pillar of fire as Elita hurls herself at Galvatron. Combat: Galvatron strikes Encore and Elita One with his Slow Motion Fusion Beam Area attack! Apocryphacius is not necessarily going to trust Wreck-Gar, despite his friendly words. That Transformer just spent the last few hours going on about how he hates Quintessons! The equivalent of 'no, you're okay because you don't act like a normal member of your species' is kind of patronising, really. Apocryphacius hopes that he does not suddenly become the trendy minority friend that everyone wants to have to prove they are not xenophobes. The humans he is evacuating mostly seem to be from the Pacific Rim nations! Because that is where he was standing at the time. The time stop, though, is awe-inspiring the Quintesson. Someday... he is going to build something like that. When he's older. Apocryphacius transforms into his Apocryphacius mode. Marissa Faireborn had been looking right at Galvatron when she saw the beam, "Ooooh crap!" And with that, she grabbed Amber's hand, her head looking left and right, grabbed the hand of the person next to her who hadn't moved yet either and yelled, "MOVE!" She hoped she could herd anyone in front of her. Wreck-Gar looks up at Galvatron, and the commotion that's happening all around them. To the Quintesson, he says in a Southern drawl, "You have a good now, you hear?" He then begins to help with the evacuation, covering the humans, or trying to with his body and a wheel shield in each hand. "If you want the writers, you're going to have to go through me first!" Combat: Wreck-Gar inspires Apocryphacius, Marissa Faireborn, Amber MacKenzie, and Franklin Cross with lofty and dramatic words! Amber MacKenzie snags a hesitating man as the most likely to need help (idiot) and pulls him forward along with whoever else is caught in their line as they make for the door. She's seen the timestop before and knows that it doesn't last long. "GO GO GO!" she shouts at anyone else stupid enough to lag behind. Blades evacuates indeterminate people who happen to be near him. He shoots a dirty glare in Galvatron's general direction and mutters about Encore and Elita One, "Brave spawns of glitches, those two," but then, Autobots usually are. Encore snarls as the fusion cannon round -slams- through him, spinning him off from his charge and planting him on his backside. He snarls quietly and holds the wound, growling as he looks to see who else is hurt, energon leaking from the huge hole in his chest. "Ngh..." Perceptor hasn't moved from his spot, his sights still focused on Galvatron's head. Either he's ignoring Hardhead's orders, or he hadn't heard. It seemed the humans would be safely out of the way soon... He relays some targeting data to Elita, hoping to give her an advantage. Time snaps back into place with an audible pop. Elita slumps forward just in time to get reamed by fusion energy. The blast shudders through her frame, freezing her in place for two visible seconds as she howls in pain, before the blast sends her reeling back out of the room as she is driven into a nearby room. First Aid looks behind him in time to see Galvatron slow-mo blast Encore and Elita One. He sees that Marissa and Amber are almost out, and positions himself in their way. This isn't favoritism, but simply that if Galvatron's going to start blasting humans, it's likely to be in their direction. Amber MacKenzie sends a radio message to Franklin Cross: Her voice is rueful. "Times like these *almost* but not quite changes my mind, General. Good luck." Apocryphacius continues to assist with the evacuation and provides adequate medical care to any injured. Also people who hyperventilate and have heart attacks. And so on. He will not evacuate himself until everyone else is out and safe. Franklin Cross sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: Amber?! Well, you too, and get out of here! Marissa Faireborn shoves several people through the door, then let’s go of Ambers hand and goes back around First Aid's leg to grab two more people who were huddled against the wall. She dragged them up and pushed them along in front of her, going back towards the door. When time snaps back into proper flow Swindle finishes clapping, and then pauses. Takes a look around. And then resumes a devious grin. "It would seem Galvatron has masterfully made the point through words -and- action. Two of your so-called protectors, bored through on the floor. Tsk tsk." There's a click and hum as his own blaster appears, locking into place on his arm... and not one to pass up some Special Teams rivalry, Swindle turns to fire off a couple of concentrated blasts in the direction of the Protectobots trying to evac various delegates. "If the self-proclaimed defenders can't save you, -who will-?" Combat: Swindle strikes First Aid and Blades with his Time to let the big guns do the debating Area attack! Amber MacKenzie has her pistol, and that's not much to go up against a *Cybertronian*. "General, as long as you're here, you'll draw their fire. Please pull out, and Galvatron may just leave instead of shooting through people to get at you. Wait until you're armored or whatever the bloody hell the EDC is using now before you take him on." Galvatron comes out of the timestop without having noticed that it had ever happened. Maybe he's too blind with rage to notice that the humans have all gone. Maybe it's not important to him once he's fighting Autobots. He lunges for the nearest and most obvious Autobot, which happens to be Encore, and with a snap of his arm tries to hurl him into the seating area where Perceptor is apparently staying quietly out of it! Combat: Galvatron strikes Encore and Perceptor with his Hurl Area attack! Now that the humans are safely out of danger, Wreck-Gar decides to join the fray, axe in one hand, spiked wheel shield in the other, shouting as he engages Galvatron, "Truce, you can't handle the truce," he swings his axe, "no truce handler, I decry your abilities to handle the truce!" And bashes with his spiked wheel shield, before leaping up, doing a somersault, and trying to stick the landing on that weird tail thingie that pokes out the back of Galvatron. Combat: Wreck-Gar strikes Galvatron with his Fast and the Furious attack! Marissa Faireborn looks frustrated and angry, about to go back between First Aid's legs to grab a couple more when Amber's words get through to her. Snarling in frustration, she still does one last dash down the wall to grab a final two people and pull them to safety. "Fine! I'm going!" she snaps, not angry really at Amber, but angry that she can't protect herself or those around her. Making sure there aren't any others close by the door she disappears through the door. Perceptor attempts to dive out of the way as Encore comes flying his way, but is not quite fast enough. Especially since the distance to be closed is not quite as far as usual. That is, not quite as far as he would like. The scientist is not quite as effective in close quarters combat as he is from afar off. Thus, he helps Encore up and retreats toward the doors, though he doesn't quite leave. Drawing a few tools from his subspace, he executes a few quick repairs on the other Autobot. Combat: Perceptor quickly patches up some of Encore's minor injuries. First Aid sees Marissa dodging in between his legs, "Hey, whoa, careful. Marissa, I hate to say it but you sh- UGH!" First Aid is blasted by Swindle square in the torso. He falls backwards and falls onto his rear, chestplate riddled with bullets. Blades is struck as well, and given his player's bedtime might not be getting up. "Shooting up a random crowd, Swindle, you've fallen pretty low." He fires a quick burst from his photon pistol. Combat: First Aid strikes Swindle with his Photon Pistol attack, temporarily affected his Accuracy. (Blinded) Encore snarls as Galvatron launches him across the room. He doesn't notice that he landed -on- Perceptor, hauling himself to his feet and pulling his Bofors gun from subspace. He nestles the autocannon against his shoulder and takes careful aim. It is about now that he notices Perceptor - when the other Autobot patches him up. He gives a nod to Perceptor, recognising some of the dents. "Sorry for landin' on ya. Thanks." He says, before sighting down the barrel and sending some 40mm love towards the Decepticon overlord! Combat: Encore strikes Galvatron with his Bofors Rifle attack! Elita One struggles to her feet. She winces at the near perfect hole through her chest cavity, glittering energon oozes out of her mouth as she pulls herself up...and fails. Her arm trembles as she turns herself over, slowly pulling herself towards the broken room. There was so little she could do right here, her optics failed her, blinking out several times. She tensed her arm, willing her cannon to her arm. The subspace weapon whimpered and stuttered before coming into play. 'Have to keep him busy, just.....s..z..s.bit..." Even as she took aim, her own vulnerability impeded her. "Stubborn...heh..." Plasma belched out of the cannon into the room. There was no time for subtlety, she was going offline even as she shot... Combat: Elita One strikes Galvatron with her Plasma Cannon attack! 40mm shells clang off of Galvatron's glossy alien armor with a deep banging sound, and as the repeated impact drives him back, the plasma blast knocks his cannon free from his arm and sends it crashing across the chamber, splintering the podium. Wreck-Gar rushes Galvatron at that moment, however, and before Galvatron can move to recover it the head Junkion is on him, slashing with his whirring axe striking sparks off the Overlord's hide! Galvatron roars wordlessly and retaliates with a kick to open up some space so that he can deploy his crackling flail from his right wrist. He charges back into the Autobots with it, laying about Wreck-Gar and Encore both with the morningstar flashing in savage loops, splitting the marble floors where it falls and shattering the columns where it misses in a horizontal sweep. Combat: Galvatron strikes Wreck-Gar and Encore with his Wrecking Ball Area attack, temporarily affected their Accuracy. (Blinded) Swindle grins to himself as his shots hit their marks. He may not thrive on sheer violence like the rest of his team does, but having sowed the seeds of doubt and contention tonight has put him in high spirits. Even as he gets zapped with that annoying Protectobot pistol, making the HUD in his vision crackle with static. "... Not the one I expected to stay up," muses the shyster. Ugh, it's going to take too long to wait for his systems to reboot fully. "But seeing as you, perhaps you can give a professional medical opinion on something." Reaching into subspace Swindle pulls out what appears to be metal ball. "A little something I picked up during a mission on Chemos. Quite the chemical warfare experts, those guys. They have scientifically extrapolated a near limitless number of formulas for dissolving almost any known alloy." Then grins wickedly as he lobs the sphere in First Aid's direction. "How about a demonstration!" Vents open in the 'bomb' as it bounces and rolls towards him, hissing out a foul colored chemical gas that starts to melt down assorted chairs and tables scattered in the evacuating panic. And hopefully a waaabulance as well! Combat: Swindle strikes First Aid with the Swindle-forged Armor-Eating Chemspray attack! Wreck-Gar can both handle himself in a fight, and take a ludicrous amount of punishment, as Shockwave recently discovered, so when the flail hits him, knocking him across the room, into a column, where a cloud of dust and debris engulfs him, due to the impact . . . it's not surprising that he quickly returns to his feet, rubbing his optics with his index fingers, while still awkwardly holding the axe and shield. "Careful there fella, you'll put someone's eye out with that." Sheathing his axe and drawing his Decelerator Laser from a compartment in his hips, he blindly fires in the general vicinity of where he was flung from. "Did I get him?" He asks, after a moment. Combat: Wreck-Gar strikes Galvatron with his Decelerator Laser attack, temporarily impairing his Agility. (Crippled) Encore takes the flail and is bowled across the chamber, slamming into a pillar. He remains there for a moment, seeing stars in his optics - one of which bears a nasty crack across the cover - before he stands, shaking his head to clear it. He growls quietly, flipping his Bofors gun to wield it like a baseball bat before charging at Galvatron... never mind the fact that he can barely see. Combat: Encore misses Galvatron with his Bofors Swing (Kick) attack! With General Faireborn in the clear, Amber cautiously takes one last look to see if everyone else got out, then she herself backs off. She has no business in there, and no desire to serve as either a hostage or a burnt offering for the Cons. Hmph. She owes Cross an apology; she thought *he'd* be the one to sabotage this hearing. And no, she won't be giving him that apology. What he doesn't know can't hurt her. A pink hand reaches out of the hole in the wall, then with effort, Elita One pulls herself up, energy sparks all about her as she laboriously gets to her feet. She reaches out again to take aim when her cannon fizzles out unexpectedly. Putting a hand over her gaping wound, she grimaces, and tries to collect herself as she slumps against the wall, looking very much like someone who had been gutshot. Perceptor's optics are on Galvatron's weapon...he has some new tech that he's been wanting to test out. Galvatron appears to be quite occupied with Encore and Wreck-gar, so this may be his golden chance to appropriate it. Once he finishes patching up Encore, he slowly begins moving toward where the weapon is lying, squeezing off a few shots here and there in the general direction of the enemy to keep them distracted but hopefully not enough to draw attention toward himself... Combat: Perceptor strikes Swindle and Galvatron with his Sample procurement... (Full-Auto) Area attack! This was (one of) First Aid's worst fears. Galvatron and Swindle being allowed in here was a Primus-awful idea, but he'll yell at the humans responsible later. For now he has Swindle to worry about. Ah, that brings back memories, doesn't it? "What you expect and what's going to happen are two very. different. things!" First Aid insists, forcing himself back up again. He rushes towards Swindle, vaulting over rows of delegate chairs in an attempt to get to him, but at the mid-way point Swindle frags him with the demonstration model armour-eating gas canister. First Aid acks and halts, trying to swat the gas away. When that obviously fails, he leaps backwards and shifts down into ambulance mode. He can't move in this mode due to the limited space and lack of actual roads, unfortunately, but he can train his decrystallizer on the Combaticon. "You want my medical diagnosis? My medical diagnosis is that you're a terrible person," First Aid snaps back before giving the Combaticon both barrels. Combat: Ambulance strikes Swindle with his That's not a Shatter. THAT's a Shatter attack! Galvatron rolls backwards and out of Encore's path as the burly Autobot charges, snatches up the cannon that Elita's plasma shot knocked off, and affixes it quickly back onto his arm even while Wreck-Gar pelts him with decelerator laser shots. If they impair Galvatron's thought processes, it's hard to say, but he does seem a little less coordinated as he fires from a low crouch, a thudding barrage of low-power shots which he sweeps across the Autobots to deter their return fire. Combat: Galvatron strikes Perceptor, Encore, Wreck-Gar, and Elita One with his Pulse Suppressor Area attack! Galvatron makes sure to bracket Perceptor with concussion pulses; he's not sure what that scientist is up to, but he knows he doesn't like it! Swindle guhs as First Aid blasts him head-on, causing the plating across his upper torso to start to crack as the decrystallizer makes him stagger back a few steps. The stray shots from off to the side bounce off one of his shoulders in the meantime though they're mostly ignored because of the whole rivalry thing here. Protectobots protect; Combaticons destroy. And so on. Swindle snags the gun off his other hip, but instead of pointing it at First Aid aims it up at the ceiling and when he fires a magnetized beam shoots out of it, tagging one of the supports holding lights and speakers and the other audio/visual equipment. That, with a strong tug from the Combaticon, comes toppling down towards the ambulance. Combat: Swindle strikes Ambulance with his Magna Grappler attack, temporarily impairing his Agility. (Crippled) If there's one thing this place has, it's junk. Pillars and columns, communications and broadcast equipment, computers, furniture such as chairs, railings, just about anything a Junkion could want. It's even starting to look something like home. Wreck-Gar stands atop the rubble, "Mr. Bigglesworth, what's in this for you? Who are you, what do you want?" He's confused why they're fighting, but it doesn't stop him from fighting. Kicking down on some of the debris, he manages to simultaneously break off a chair seat, while flipping it up into the air. He catches it by the rim, with his hand between the seat and Galvatron, and then with a quick flick of the wrist, he sends it hurdling towards Galvatron like a Frisbee. Combat: Wreck-Gar misses Galvatron with his Random Junk attack! Perceptor is knocked into a wall by Galvatron's suppressive fire. He recovers but by that time Galvatron has already re-attached his fusion cannon. The scientist sighs in disappointment. Oh, well. Guess he'd just have to get back to blasting--wait. He's received a private comm from Elita. It distracts him momentarily but he points his weapon at Galvatron again anyway and fires, if a bit sloppily. Combat: Perceptor misses Galvatron with his Slightly sloppy shot attack! Encore snarls as he's hit by the Cannon again, though of course, this is Encore; he'll fight until he goes down or is dragged back. His own cannon is knocked from his grasp but he recovers, drawing his big-bore sidearm and carefully taking aim. It's clear to everyone in the room that it's just his willpower keeping Encore on his feet as he blasts away at Galvatron. "That all you got?" Combat: Encore strikes Galvatron with his Six Gun (Laser) attack! Elita One has a grimace welded onto her face the second sweeping shot was a glancing blow, but it certainly didn't improve her reflexes. She gestured again..and again only to be met with fizzles and circuits popping as she tried to restore her cannon. Eventually one of her pistols comes into play. She raises it blindly towards the melee, with her optics fizzling, it was going to be a tough shot. Combat: Elita One misses Galvatron with her Battle Pistols attack! "No more quips?" First Aid asks rhetorically as Swindle takes the decrystallizer blast dead on. For his part, First Aid doesn't hold any particular grudge against Swindle. He's just trying to get the pair out of here so they can work to rebuild the place. He also has to hold back his anger at whoever let Swindle and Galvatron get in here in the first place. Focus, First Aid, focus on the here and now. Even as he gets his attention back on Swindle, the Con is blasting the ceiling. Chips of plaster and wood fall on First Aid as the support beam weakens. "Oh you've got to be kidding me." The beam cracks, breaks free of the ceiling, and falls, slamming down on First Aid's front hood. His two forward wheels explode from the sudden strain. Unable to transform with the beam across his crumpled up hood, Aid fires another, much weaker, decrystallizer blast. Combat: Ambulance strikes Swindle with his Decrystallizer Blast (Laser) attack! Galvatron snatches the hurled chair seat out of the air and whirls to block Perceptor's laser beam with it, the shot deflecting back towards the scientist! Galvatron grins cruelly and flicks the seat at Wreck-Gar like a discus as he ignites his boosters and dashes towards Encore! Laser bolt crack little divots out of Galvatron's armor but he is undeterred, throwing up an elbow to try to clothesline Encore and carry him bodily back into Elita! Combat: Galvatron strikes Perceptor, Wreck-Gar, Encore, and Elita One with his Improvised Combination Area attack! Swindle twists a bit to shield himself with the paneling along his left arm, but the weakened armor warps from the burst of fire and causes several sparks to fly as it buckles into mechanics underneath. Shame strength isn't really an important thing for Swindle. "I think I've said plenty already tonight." His arm cannon clicks and rotates the firing chamber to reload as he takes a few steps closer, the barrel irising slightly to decrease it's scatter radius and thus increase its focused output range. Which is raised and pointed directly at the trapped Protectobot. "But how's this for a closing argument?" Pulls the trigger and lets the scatterblaster do the rest of the talking. Combat: Swindle strikes Ambulance with his Scatterblaster Fireburst Mode attack! Perceptor would have dodged the deflected shot, but he'd been speaking with Elita One on his comm and the blast hit him in the lower left leg. He felt his servos sputtering and whining in protest as his movement is impaired by the damage, though the quantity of damage itself isn't -too- hefty. At least it's less than he would've expected from Galvatron. But he won't need to move much for what he's planning to do next, anyway. He limps behind a few still-intact pillars and transforms down into his microscope mode to better size up the enemy for weaknesses. Combat: Perceptor sets his defense level to Guarded. Perceptor folds down into his microscope secondary form. Combat: Perceptor analyzes Galvatron for weaknesses Elita One can exploit. Wreck-Gar frowns, first seeing Galvatron catch the chair he flung. The frown grows in intensity, becoming anger as he witnesses Galvatron use it to deflect Perceptor's laser beam, "Wow, sturdy chair, I guess they don't make 'em like they . . ." but then he sees it flying towards him, striking him between the optics, "used too" he completes, in a bit of a groan. He shakes his head, "Gotta clear the cobwebs," and takes a moment to get his bearings . . . when he receives a radio transmission. He begins to run, trying to time it right so that when he leaps into the air, the explosion will go off in a fiery ball of death behind him. "You? Said enough? I thought I'd never see the day," First Aid retorts. He isn't normally so snippy, but this has been a pretty bad day so far. He transforms from ambulance mode into robot mode, but the support beam just shifts around, still on his body. He grunts, trying to push it off him as he glares at Swindle. The Combaticon has him dead to rights, and the Scatterblaster cuts through his already weakened armour. Even as bullets are ricocheting off him, Aid summons all his strength and shoves the beam away. Now it's his turn to focus on acting rather than talking, and he vaults over to where Elita One and Encore got smashed together by the Decepticon leader. "Hold still!" he calls, kneeling before her to seal up her wounds. He can try to close the gashes in her armour, but the more internal injuries from using her Time Stop are beyond his reach just now. A strange laugh is heard from Elita's area. She was just clobbered by Encore's own form, but managed to keep her feet under her. She brushes him aside as she slumps forward into a walk, an arm before her, an arm behind her, as if clutching her very innards to keep them in check. "Don...Don't you..ever shut up?" She raises her head as she looks at Galvatron. Everything lined up pretty well here. The quick retreat of all allied parties here. The room was a disaster. Elita slowly starts to pad her way forward, one of the few Bots standing at the moment. "The funny part..." She laughs, the laugh of a madwoman. "Is that..." She gestures behind the two Cons, "you think we missed!" And that's when it was revealed. Perceptor's wild shot. Elita's own shot weren't MEANT to hit the Con leader. They were both to the enormous viewscreen behind them. She looks over her shoulder, at First Aid...who sees her extra surprise first. A detpack unsurprisingly. "Might want to get down." She says softly to First Aid. With an underhand throw, she lobs the charge onto the teetering viewscreen, which then collapses atop the Decepticons. Fire erupts from underneath it moments later. Combat: Elita One has created a bomb: "Tiiiimber motherboarders!"! Combat: Elita One strikes Galvatron and Swindle with Tiiiimber motherboarders!'s Huge Explosion Area attack! Elita One coughs, a smirk on her face. Encore snarls as he's thrown into Elita and brushed off, the big Autobot leaving a good chunk of his hide in her. He hauls himself to his feet, shaking his head and laughing as the screen is brought down -and- exploded onto Elita. "Yeah." He growls in appreciation, throwing more firepower into the explosion - snatching up his bofors gun, he lifts it to his shoulder, re-loads, and sends a full string down-range Combat: Encore misses Galvatron with his Bofors Rifle attack! Even as First Aid starts to sprint towards the other Autobots he pivots and raises his arm weapon to track after the medic, using his other hand to brace his arm with the movement. That's right, just line up all your little pals in my sights as well-- ".. Huh?" He looks up from aiming just as the 'shot' hits the viewscreen. "Oh son of a hitch." The falling, exploding electronics do a good job of preventing him from getting to take that shot. A second smaller blast follows moments later as Swindle uses a shot from his scatterblaster to clear the debris off of himself. "Lord Galvatron, I do believe we've made our points more than aptly tonight. Let us, as the locals say, blow this popsicle joint." He pulls out another one of the those spheroids, but only chucks it at an exterior wall where it explodes and eats up a sizable opening quickly. Then transforms, and since he -doesn't- care about making a farther mess driving indoors like his counterpart did, puts the pedal to the metal and burns rubber out of here! Galvatron remains trapped under the mound of masonry, steel rebar, and burning remnants of the giant LCD screen, apparently down for the time being! Not likely out, but at least it is a moment of respite for the Autobots. Dust filters down as Swindle makes good his escape, and a few moments later Galvatron punches out of the wreckage and pauses a moment to look over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at Elita. That's that Autobot that Shockwave used to complain about all the time! He's beginning to realize why. With a crash of his morning star, Galvatron smashes down a section of the wall and takes his leave as well. Elita One slumps against the wall, chuckling to herself. "Ho..Primus that hurts....I'll be fine. The civilians?" She asks hopefully, her mouth a thin line as she tries to maintain discipline. She looks aside, "They're not going to like THAT at all. Guess we are just space cowboys, eh?" With the bad guys tucking their tails between their legs, Wreck-Gar starts to look around, "All right, we're going to have to clean up this wonderful mess. All of this junk's gotta be taken back to Junkion, so the humans can turn it into an orderly disaster. Hurry, hurry, hurry, we have much to do, and less time to do it." "Down? What-" First Aid cuts off, knowing it's better to act rather than ask dumb questions about why your CO has told you to do something. He ducks even as he finishes up his welding. The explosion that rocks Swindle and Elita One is something he's glad to see, even he knows that the Assembly is now ruined. Galvatron and Swindle high tail it out of there, much to First Aid's appreciation. "Whew, nice move." He stands up, immediately searching for anyone who didn't make it out when the evacuation was given. ================================== Reports ===================================Message: 9/25 Posted AuthorFIREFIGHT! on the UN meeting Fri Sep 14 Franklin Cross------------------------------------------------------------------------------GNN hosts yet another episode of their incendiary talk show "Firefight," whose hosts hate each other with such a passion that bets have been placed on when they will try to kill each other, and who will die when it happens! The camera pans across to Francis Delacroix, a lanky, nervous man. He's holding a latte cup in his left hand, which is shaking. If not for the plastic cap on it he probably would have gotten the stuff on his own hand. "Welcome to FIREFIGHT! Today we're talking about the UN hearing in regards to the Geneva Conventions. One side argued for extending the protections of the Geneva Conventions to aliens, and the other argued against. And in a move the UN SHOULD have expected, the Decepticons tried to kill Marissa Faireborn, who had made a surprise appearance at the meeting. Once that attempt was thwarted, the Autobots repelled the Decepticons. Franklin Cross was there and didn't do a damn thing to fight them off! So much for his "get tough" stance!" Mark "The Block" Johnson is next to speak, and when they switch to him he's shaking his head at Francis, scowling. "You putz. He didn't have his tank, obviously! But anyway, considering how that meeting went, I gotta give it to the guys against granting the Decepticons protection under the Geneva Conventions. For starters, the bleeding hearts on the other side were exactly that: bleeding hearts. They relied HEAVILY on appeals to emotion rather than facts, and that may play to the peanut gallery BUT NOT ME!" He slams a fist on his desk.============================================================================== ================================== Reports ===================================Message: 9/26 Posted AuthorFIREFIGHT! on the UN meeting pt 2 Fri Sep 14 Franklin Cross------------------------------------------------------------------------------Mark goes on. "And aside from that, the Decepticons THEMSELVES were telling us to buzz off. They told us they held our laws in total contempt, and what laws we did or didn't pass made no difference to them. They even hired some shark-lawyer dude to spell out in no uncertain terms that the Conventions were written EXCLUSIVELY with humans in mind. And there was this Quintesson, shoot, OUR Quintesson--he's in the EDC--and from his speech he even made the Autobots look like complete monsters. Now, I don't buy that bit, but I don't think it helped the bots when they made their case all the same. Yeah, uh, and neither did the part where the Decepticons went postal on the place." Francis snorts. "Don't be too smug, Mark. The Autobots and their friends DEMOLISHED General Cross's primary premise for denying the Cybertronians protection under the Geneva Conventions, which is that they aren't alive. They provided scientific evidence to contradict his statements as well as an expert who actually merged with one of the Autobots and said what we all already knew, which is that the Cybertronians are in fact living beings."============================================================================== ================================== Reports ===================================Message: 9/27 Posted AuthorFIREFIGHT! on the UN meeting pt 3 Fri Sep 14 Franklin Cross------------------------------------------------------------------------------Francis continues. "And that wasn't all they had to bring to the party. The Autobots and their human friends reminded us of the many sacrifices the bots have made to protect us, and even promised to continue helping us even if we sided against them. Another powerful argument they made was that we have to realize that we're part of a much larger, intergalactic community full of aliens of all kinds. We can't arrogantly declare that only humans deserve to have rights, not with so many eyes or... whatever watching us. Out of all the people there, however, it was the humans Amber MacKenzie and Marissa Faireborn who really brought home their arguments. Their speeches will go down in history I'm sure. And did you see General Cross when Ms. Faireborn came out? His hands were shaking! Ha!" Mark visibly seethes. "You little... well, it's unfortunately not up to me to decide how this is going to go. I'm just glad that the Autobots managed to evacuate all the delegates from the UN Building safely. We'll see how they decide on this matter in the next couple of weeks, I'm sure! Next up, on FIREFIGHT! Has the mainstream media turned on the Autobots?"==============================================================================
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