| abstract
| - Residential Sector Designed as a hundred semi-individual habitations, the Residential Sector appears disjointed compared to the rest of the city. Medium-height towers sparkle in the light towards the center of the city while spacious ground-level buildings spread towards the city walls to the northeast, separated into four hexagonal sections by the interconnected roadways. Shorter and narrower than those in the rest of the city, these roadways force a slower, safer pace. While the buildings are of the same indigo steel/titanium and crystal typical of the rest of the city, there is a noticeable difference in their designs. Each is different from the other, moderately so in the case of the architecture, and more noticeably in the crystal design and placement, making each stately building unique. Standing out side a Residence, Hardhead seems to be discussing something with a small cadre of Resistance Fighters, "Now." He points at the Door. "When you breach in, you have to sweep the area, then survey the entrances and exits." Hardhard scowls, "First 'Mech sweeps left and the Second 'Mech sweeps right." Hardhead points with his right, "YOU TWO. GO!" As it were, with the resistance activity in Crystal City on a steady climb, Blurr is finding himself making trips here more and more often. Meeting with his contacts, delivering supplies and munitions, but mainly the exchange of intel. That's his job, anyway. And thus far, the resistance has provided the Autobots with some slagging good intel. He is on his way to a large residential complex to meet up with some contacts for the purpose of intel exchange when he notices Hardhead bossing some rebels around. He chuckles. "Hardhead, you know we're technically in enemy territory. You could uh...be a little more subtle?" Looking at Blurr, Hardhead shrugs casually. "Subtle ain't exactly a skill I have acquired." Smiling on the left corner of his face, "Besides a little risk makes training better. Danger and Fear are hard to simulate." He moves towards Blurr, crossing his arms over his chest. "I am concerned, that these Troops won't have the skills necessary to survive actual war..." His whisper trails off... Perhaps he has been here the entire time. Who really knows. But the form of Mirage just seems to be there all of a sudden. He's always doing that, so if there's a reason to be startled or something, then go ahead and be. For the moment, though, he doesn't say a word. He is here to observe, at least for the moment. If he needs to intervene or take Point, he will. His arms are crossed even as he comes out of his invisible state, not far away from Blurr and Hardhead in the least. Continuing to chat with Blurr and his Squad, Hardhead freezes his spine going ramrod straight, "Slag Blurr, you are right!" Hardhead pivots, pulling out his two Shatterblasters and leveling them at the new presence that appeared on his passive sensors! Scowling, Hardhead lets out a sigh, as he lowers his weapons, "For Primus sake, Mirage! Must you do that?" Scowling deeper, "That is a good way to get shot on the battlefield..." Hardhead sighs as he places the Shatterblasters back into subspace. "Hardhead!" Blurr exclaims when he levels his weapons at Mirage. He had been ready to grab Hardhead's arm and try to push them down, but it seems he's figured it out himself already. Phew, that was close. "Careful what you're shooting at, there." he nods at Mirage. "Mirage. We'd better go inside..." he lowers his voice. "They're waiting, and besides--the less time we spend out in the open, the better." Another glance at Mirage will show that his Rocket Rifle is held from beneath his crossed arms and in the direction of Hardhead. He doesn't even seem to be wavering when there are weapons trained on him. "Then it is lucky for you that we are not on the battlefield." Mirage looks from Hardhead to Blurr, turning his non-existent nose up at Hardhead and moving to follow the speedy bot. "Yes. Let's get this over with. I'm already bored." His rifle gets holstered. Looking at Blurr, then back at Mirage, "Ugh...pretty boy Cars." He shakes his head in disgust as his voice continues to go cold, a finger pointing at the non-existent nose. "Lucky for me?" He grumbles, his fists clenching as motions towards the door of the safe house, "Fine. Blurr. Fine." He walks towards the safe house door opening it, "After y'all...hate for y'all to suffer from exposure..." Blurr makes his way toward a loading bay near the back, leading to a cargo bay of sorts. The large blast doors shut behind them. "Exposure wouldn't be a good thing for any of us, not around here. Too many patrols." Moving down the corridor once inside, he leads them to a freight eleveator and punches in a code to summon it. Moving behind Blurr, Hardhead stands with his arms crossed, "What do we need to do to further our cause here in CC?" He continues his scowl between words, "I am tired of the Decepticon Taint in this city." Mirage is keeping up nicely with the others, hardly paying too much attention to anything. He is, of course, unworried about any sort of exposure. He is the Mirage, after all. "Have I mentioned how bored I am of this assignment, yet?" Mirage makes sure his opinion is known once again, even as he keeps his optics on the prowl for anything that may look amiss. Anything that Blurr or Hardhead might miss. Blurr gives Mirage an annoyed look. "Yeah, actually. In fact you just mentioned it about two breems ago." He shakes his head, and then the elevator arrives. The doors slide open, and as expected it is empty, though the courier hesitates for just a few astroseconds before entering just to make sure. Once he's inside, he answers Hardhead's question. "To be honest, you were right. They could really use some hardcore training. I mean, their sparks' are in the right place, but most of them are just civilians." Nodding his head and sighing, his voices has a very organic tone to it, "We were all young once...and just Civilians." Hardhead freezes as he stares at his hands for a moment, "These look so foreign...." Frowning, Hardhead's tone grows cold again as he looks over at Blurr once more, "They are going to get someone killed. They are going to get each other killed. War isn't just a hobby..." He spares a look at Mirage. "I might be able to teach them some hand to hand, and trench warfare..." He grumbles. "As loathe as I am to say it, Mr. Boredom there might be able to teach them some Guerrilla tactics..." He jerks his thumb at Mirage. "You do not get to speak of my friends. You do not know what I have given up to be standing here right next to you. You do not know the things that I do to ensure that you, Blurr and even those Civilians you want to train to die for Our Cause are actually able to continue on living." Mirage does not sound amused. In fact, he sounds borderline angry. "My past is my business. And I will miss it as silently or as vocally as I wish. And you will respect that or I will make you wish I was Dandy as you believe me to be." There is a pause, though, after his statement and Mirage's optics relax from their narrowed state. "I will avenge them. And I will do so on my terms. Do not presume to know me, Hardhead. I am more than meets the eye." Staring at Mirage. Hardhead chuckles softly as he watches Mirage's performance. "Fine." He says as he gives a slow clap letting it echo, "I forgot. You are a Dandy first." He moves towards Mirage with a single step, "Tell me Mirage...where are your aristocratic friends now?" He spreads his arms, "Where is Cybertron High Society?" He offers. "Crushed and buried, under Decepticon Tyranny. Forgive me for thinking that you would want to avenge your so called friends." Moving to be in Mirage's face, the bulky Headmaster lifts a finger and points it Mirage's chest? "WHAT YOU HAD TO GIVE UP!" The exclaims, "I got to watch two worlds burn! I had a FAMILY I...I..." Caught in the moment, Hardhead frowns and takes a step back, his finger still raised. "The things you do...the things we all do, I am never going to get the blood and energon off my hands. The screams of my comrades as the Decepticon hordes come in all directions. Do not presume, you are the only one who knows pain, Mirage." He finally lowers his hand. "You think you are more than meets the eyes? I know you...I have seen thousands like you. All wearing their masks, hoping no one looks in too deeply." He motions to the sky, Don't think for a second that I don't know that the only reason you fight on our side, is that the Decepticon don't allow for 'Mechs to spend time in High Society. They ruined your little social club, and now all you want is revenge. Guess what, that hole in your spark--Ain't never going to go way..." Talk about an interesting...and rather intense elevator conversation. Blurr just watches the two of them bicker back and forth with a quirked brow ridge. Hah. High society. Is that what Mirage thought he had? "Tch. If you think what you had was high society..." he smirks and shrugs. "I shouldn't have to remind you." Of course he's talking about how crazy famous he was before the war destroy the racing industry. "Anyway, now's not the time to be reminscing about the past, as much fun as it is. Save that for a bar somewhere, over some engex." he chuckles as the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open out onto sublevel 2. Seems the coast is clear for now. "Good, no Ravage or...whoever that other glitch was, last time." "I will not stand here and be lectured by the likes of YOU!" Mirage can feel himself starting to get even more angry and even though his fists are clenching, he takes a moment to attempt to make sure that he does not blow the cover that they are all supposed to be under. "I do not wish to have this argument. We have all lost what we hold dear. That is obvious. Some of us lost more than others." Mirage is more than likely speaking of himself, there. "I am not an Autobot out of some twisted need for vengeance. I am an Autobot because I believe in what you all are fighting for. Even if you all are fighting like idiots and barbarians. I do not appreciate everyone questioning my loyalties." Mirage almost twitches as he says that. Thoughts of Cliffjumper, probably. "Perhaps, though, if it all possible, let us table this pointless discussion until after we've secured the intel." This had absolutely nothing to do with what Blurr has said. Honest. Okay, maybe it did. A little. Glowering at Blurr then at Mirage. "Ugh, where is Kup when you need him..." He grumbles under his breath as he points at each of them. "Maybe we'll settle this in the training room..." He offers a grunt as he looks around. "Ravage? He still stalks this area?" Hardhead lowers his arms by his side, "So, what is this intel anyways..." He asks, clearly not briefed...he might curse 'Cars' under his breath. "Mirage, no one is questioning your loyalties. Please calm down." Blurr says flatly. "Though calling us all idiots and barbarians might get you part of the way there." The courier makes his way down the corridor to room on the right. Opening a security pad on the side, another code is inputted. "Heh. Ravage, yeah. I encountered him two solar cycles ago in the industrial sector. Never know where he might pop up." He ignores the question about what kind of intel it is. It's best not to talk about it until they're inside. Mirage falls silent. Silence is what he's best at. That and being Invisible. Or being anyone else. Anything else. Whatever. He's not about to stand here and listen to Hardhead or Blurr tell him about himself. He can't help it if that's how they act. He had to call them on it. He simply shakes his head and follows both of them. He does peer over his shoulder though, to make sure they are not being followed or anything like that. Taking a defensive posture, Hardhead scans the area, his normally foul mood seems to grow worse and worse as he paces. "I don't mind being an idiot or barbarian...Highbrow has called me worse." He continues to pace. "I hate all this cloak and dagger...I just want to crush a Decepticon." "Well, 'all this cloak and dagger' is just as much as part of the war as crushing Decepticons is." Blurr remarks, and the doors fold open. Inside, a couple of Crystal City rebels are sitting at a circular table with a holographic projector in the middle. They look kind of nervous, which is never a good sign... The courier strides in, and the door seals itself behind them once all three Autobots have entered. He nods in greeting to them, then sits down. "So," he begins, not bothering with plesantries. "What have you got for me?" One of the neutrals fidgets slightly before replying, "Er, well...we deployed a Cyclonus decoy." .... An awkward silence, as Blurr stares at them in disbelief. Finally, he facepalms. "Vector sigma..." he mutters, shaking his head. These guys needed some serious training... Mirage is still silent. He is, more or less, here to make sure that this goes smoothly. And also here to make sure that everything is happening the way it is happening. Of course, the fact that Mirage doesn't sit down or anything and just continues to stand there might be cause for alarm or something. But not really. He's just the silent and intimidating optic type, that's all. Shrugging at Blurr, Hardhead nods. "I know...I know...I just ain't built for it. Neither is Duros." He motions to his large noisy frame, before pointing at Mirage. "Not a word..." He snaps before he crosses the door, peering at the Crystal City Rebels. Hardhead gives each of them a curt nod, before making his way towards a chair. Sliding into the chair, he crassly puts his elbows on the table and slouches into the seat. Hardhead just listens. "I'm sorry. I must be drunker than a Decepticon Targetmaster at a firing range, but did you say you deployed a Cyclonus decoy...'Cause that is about the dumbest thing I have ever heard..." Hardhead says levelly, anger dripping off of his words. "But--!" The second one protests. "It was working! For a while! But then he got discovered." he sighs, staring at the table. "I think he got a little carried away with being able to order the Decepticons around..." Blurr groans. "Seriously..." Hardhead was sure blunt, but maybe this time it was appropriate. "Okay, if you guys were thinking about doing something like that, you should've consulted us first. The frag did you use, anyway?" A sigh and a diagnostic of a Cyclonus 'suit' controlled by a Casseticon pilot in its chest appears on the holo-display at the center of the table. Blurr sighs at this as well. "Hah, I can't believe they actually fell for it, if not for long..." he mutters. "ANYWAY. Terrible. Just terrible. And now they're probably torturing your mech." he says, refering to the small pilot. "If you were going to go for something like that, you should've had him impersonate someone less important. Someone who could easily go unnoticed, you know? Ever think about that?" Mirage makes a bit of a snorting sound effect or something close to that. He is, after all, clearly the best at infiltration and hearing such failure only helps to prove the point that he was trying to make earlier. "Consulting would do nothing." Mirage chimes in. "Leave such matters to the professionals." Professionals meaning Mirage. "Oh, it worked for a little bit. That makes it all alright." Hardhead says mockingly before slamming his fist on the table. "Blurr is right, you better be praying that your friend is dead, 'Cause what the Decepticon will do to him otherwise will keep you awake for the rest of your pathetic existence." He pushes away from the table. "Is that it? You want to just give up?" Those poor neutrals jump and flinch away from the table as Hardhead slams his fist down, glancing fearfully at each other. The hologram flickers. Primus, Hardhead was strong. Another moment of awkward silence ensues, until Mirage speaks up. Blurr shrugs at the comment. "Yeah, but we're limited in what we can do around here because we're Autobots--only a limited number of us can waltz around this place on a regular basis without getting discovered." People like Blurr, and Mirage. "But these guys are everywhere, the Decepticons don't have a way of determining who's loyal to them and who's loyal to us. Besides...they supplied us with intel that's led to major victories before. Just look at what happened on Mia." The speedster grins at the very thought of it. "Well, anyway--next time you come up with some bright idea, consult us first. That is until we can get at least a good number of you properly trained. Which should hopefully be happening soon." "In the meantime," He takes a small disc out of a subspace compartment. "Some of our basic infiltration simulations. Should help get you a head start." Blurr slides it across the table towards the rebels, who nod meekly, taking the disc. "Thanks," They say quickly, still nodding vigorously. Mirage rolls his optics. They are giving out their infiltration techniques to rebels now. Which means they could fall into the hands of the Decepticons at any moment. Mirage is growing tired of this, that much is quite obvious. "Are we done here?" is asked with impatience clouding his tone. He is ready to get away from these fools. Before they ruin everything. Rebels. Hmph. Looking at Mirage, "Slag..and you idiots made me agree with Mirage." Hardhead just shakes his head. "Look, y'all have my comm code. When y'all want to learn to brawl and take this seriously. Call me...until.." He shakes his head, "Every slaggin' Planet!" He looks at Blurr. "HAve you thought about assigning a permeant liaison to these guys...Maybe a Minibot or a flyer or something...'Cause this needs to be better." Taking one last look back, Hardhead sees the dent in put in the table and sighs, he pulls out and throws some credits on the table. "For the damage." He intones quietly. "Hmm." Blurr nods at Hardhead. "You know, that's a good idea." he turns to Mirage. "Mirage. You have a pretty effective cloaking field, it'd be relatively easy for you to get in and out of here without being detected." Meanwhile, the rebels just stare at the shanix for a few moments before nodding and taking it. "Th-thanks..." Though they look thoroughly horrified at the this permanent liaison thing. Especially if it has to be Mirage or Hardhead... "Yeah, I am full of good ideas." Hardhead says with an edge of cynism. He begins to stalk out. "Call me if you need me. I need to work out a few things..." The sullen Headmaster stalks off and out.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)