Ep. 1.5 - Burning Man - (Closed)

[Deleted]

For Fairwinds! Set Week 2, Day 7, after Special Delivery!

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Beneath a rising Nevada moon, Fortress Maximus sat at the edge of a bluff and looked down over the Black Rock Desert.

Pale light shone upon the playa. Arid and spice–grey, it stretched as far to the south as he could see, a plain of white silt. Eroded by wind and water from the surrounded mountains, the sediment had settled over time across the ancient lake bed. Beyond the ranges the rugged landscape was riddled with faults, the crust broken into a vast plain of basins and ranges.

Miles of nothing. Just dust and wind and dissolved mineral salts, cracked and bare.

Maximus sat in his tank mode within the shelter of the rock and welcomed the isolation.

He had deliberately picked a location far enough from the Black Rock military base that proximity would not be an issue. No one would be able to trace him back there. Now his dirty blue and grey armour blended in with the surrounding rock, all colour leeched by the moon. His engine was silent, not even idling. Most of the heat had seeped from his chassis with the setting sun.

A sabbatical. He had to remind himself of that a lot.

The tank sighed. But he had wanted this. He’d asked for it, this isolation. And despite the bustle and noise of the human military base it was oddly peaceful here, in the desert. In the hills and mountains that flanked it. No sounds in the night, no ghostly shadows. Finally his mind was quiet. It was good.

The first night had been - bad.

Agent Fowler had seen to it that he was stationed in an old maintenance hanger at the end of the northernmost ramp. Few base personnel went out that way, ensuring that he would be left alone. That had proven an act of foresight. Maximus had... needed the space.

The next night had been a little better. And Wheeljack's unexpected visit earlier had been a welcome distraction. It had been good to see the Wrecker again.

Now that the day was winding down he found that his mind was settling back into the grey calm that had come only after the first two miserable nights on the base had finally ended in exhaustion. It was a strange feeling. Flat. Hollowed out. But it was better than –

It was better.

Maximus tiredly flicked one whip antenna back and forth. Out of habit the tank scanned the desert, and then the dusk sky. He wasn’t expecting to find much out here. There wasn't much out here. But even now it was good to be wary.

[Deleted]

After another intensive scan, Knock Out had been glad to announce that the reboot that would see the newly repaired hardlines between the Decepticon Commander's memory core and the rest of his processor would likely take place within the next twelve to fourteen hours. He'd advised that he remain confined to quarters during that period, preferably seated or reclined, as the shut-down would likely come on without warning and drop his frame hard. After that, Lord Megatron could expect to online returned to normal and operating at peak performance.

Megatron had complied without protest to the confinement, and commanded Fairwinds to undock. They were almost out of time to act.

Under medical directive, Megatron had spent the last two weeks interacting with the crew to accelerate the regeneration of the destroyed and missing neural connections in his processor. What he had learned was that he commanded a crew of steadfastly loyal and competent individuals, all of whom (with the exception of Fairwinds and Soundwave) cowered from his presence to one degree or another. He had become, in the memories he had lost, a hard and unforgiving leader, holding his crew to the same brutal standards as he did himself. It wasn't fear that they beheld him with, precisely, but there was certainly an awed intimidation and sharp need to meet his absolute demands and expectations.

Megatron had also, in addition to the conversations and light sparring sessions, been reading. Official reports, departmental reviews, research and tactical proposals, even the scant personal logs entered into the computer that he held automatic access to. The same acronym recurred, over and over, troubling on both a professional and personal level: MECH.

Soundwave and Shockwave had both raised, quite rightly, that MECH's weapons and tactics were improving in effectiveness at such a rate as to suggest that they were accessing Cybertronians in addition to those of their own forces whom had been attacked or held captive. Megatron himself had an unofficial channel with the Neutrals via Ravage, and there had been no notification that any unaligned Cybertronians had been intercepted. To Haven's knowledge, at least.

Which left the Autobots, whom Fairwinds had seen in direct hostile contact with a small MECH group only days ago. It seemed likely that the Autobots had also been subjected to the same troubles with the human organisation as the Decepticons had, and yet they had not been approached to share intelligence.

Megatron had spent many hours surveying the accumulated intelligence on MECH across a plethora of screen displays on the wall, standing against the desk in his quarters that served as an additional private office. The connections were obvious, as was the fact that this was an enemy that grew more powerful and unpredictable at every turn. They were more than an irritating distraction on the side of the official Cybertronian conflict, and needed to be dealt with.

They needed to confer with the Autobots, and the only reason Megatron could see as to why they hadn't was because he, their Commander, would not permit it. Pride was a likely factor in that decision, he reasoned. Stubbornness, definitely, but overall, he determined, it was the ingrained certainty that the Autobots were the enemy and nothing more. The Decepticon Commander, Slagmaker, Lord Megatron would not turn to the Autobots to share intelligence (let alone ask for help).

Fortunately, that Lord Megatron was currently absent, and the Megatron that surveyed these screens now was free of a millennia of prejudices, grudges and battle-hardening.

"Are you sure you don't want to just, like, send them a comm.?" Fairwinds asked from where she was perched on the desk. She was tucked down on her undercarriage with her chin resting on the edge of a cube of energon, periodically drinking from the curly straw poking out of the fuel.

Her question was not rooted in nervousness over her proposed mission, Megatron was satisfied to note. Likely it was the subterfuge that was troubling her, and the potential fallout. He would deal with that, however. It was likely that he would be more irked than Soundwave after the reboot with what he'd ordered her to do now, and she would need to lay low of his temper for a time.

"A comm. message directly from the Nemesis would open an official channel," he replied, folding his arms and turned away from the screens. The tiny cassette watched him from his desk, her cheek plates drawing in as she sucked fuel up through the straw. "This is an unofficial gesture, that should keep the Autobots from coming up in arms over potential traps and betrayals. You, Fairwinds, are a most innocuous emissary. For all your potential to inflict damage and harm, you are not intimidating, and are most suited at opening a... relaxed, if not informal conversation about our shared adversary."

Megatron shuttered his optics a moment, rubbing his claws over the thin plates with an ex-vent. His processor was buzzing with mounting energy. He met her brightly concerned optics once more.

"I will not be in a position to ask you to do this for much longer. You must leave now: find a solitary Autobot and approach them peacefully. Share some of what we know in exchange for their own knowledge. We need some indication as to whether their intelligence is worthy of further investment. Will you do this for me?"

[Deleted]

Of course, Master.

She'd ordered Megatron to park it where he couldn't fall down, snuck out through a groundbridge with a Vehicon patrol over North America, and then spent two long, tedious hours in radio silence Autobot-hunting. Fairwinds had gotten over her very real concern over how Starscream would react to their non-acting Commander ordering peaceful contact with the Autobots be made with view to a possible ceasefire. She saw the wisdom in Megatron's words, and greatly admired that he'd made the decision to act against the precedent the Commander himself had set over the millennia. This Megatron was more open to conversation, less hard in his decisions and more measured in his dealings with individuals as opposed to soldiers.

It had been nice to have this Megatron, eroded away by the front line of centuries of warfare, back for a little while.

Finally, the little cassette's luck came through. An Autobot - big mech (fragging tank, in fact), all alone and seemingly not up to much. It was a very short list of whom among the Prime's ranks had that alt. mode, and Fortress Maximus was very far down on the list of Autobots she wanted to try and talk nicely to. Like, very far down. Near the bottom, in fact. He was savage in combat, merciless with the Eradicons, and borderline unhinged.

Hey ho.

Fairwinds circled at a descending altitude overhead, well out of his firing range but close enough for him to see what she was. She kept her weapon systems cold (and didn't that feel horrendous right now) and her wings flared, presenting her vulnerable underbelly to him.

::Hi Fortress Maximus,:: she hailed on an open channel, still spiraling down and wide, lazy circles. ::Decepticon Fairwinds on a peaceful mission. Permission to approach?::

[Deleted]

The comm startled him.

The dissipating heat in his engine and his own exhaustion had lulled Maximus into a drowsy fog, something he allowed only because he knew that either his sensors or his heavily armoured alternate mode would protect him from harm. But when the comm chimed in his head he leapt instantly awake, tense and disoriented.

What had...

In rising alarm he scanned the desert. Nothing. Just a few dust devils, whirling across the cracked floor. He threw his scanners into the sky and nearly boiled in rage when they returned with a hit: a tiny heat source, already spiralling towards him.

Too small to be a Vehicon. But what -

A moment later a tiny female voice piped in his head.

Fairwinds.

Maximus had been briefed about her. Autobot intelligence had provided a file. A Decepticon cassette, highly adapt in surveillance. Childish, cruel, but clever. There was other skillset she was rumoured to be proficient in as well. Ugly skills that instantly sent his entire neural net prickling in revulsion. The tank shuddered. The invasion of the mind, of the brain core itself was not something he liked to dwell upon.

He hated Decepticons. And he hated invaders. Vile, creeping -

Instantly on guard, the big mech transformed. He rose up and glared with loathing into the evening sky. His optics picked out and targeted the tiny speck circling towards him. There was no chance of his tank mode getting a lock on such a creature, or even being deft enough to accurately predict the lead and firing angle required to hit such a tiny and quick moving target. But there was nothing wrong with his rifle or his shooting arm.

He reached back and unclipped his rifle and held it in both hands across his chest, the muzzle angled to the desert floor.

"Permission pending," he spat. "What is the nature of your 'peaceful mission?'"

[Deleted]

She hadn't expected to be invited down for a cube and a sit down on a tank tred, but the chilliness in that scathing reply was more hostile than she'd anticipated. Fairwinds cast her optics towards the unseen, distant Nemesis, curling her claws tighter up beneath her. She kept circling, but now maintained her altitude.

::Intelligence trade - on MECH, specifically... I heard you guys are getting bothered by them, too.::

Fairwinds twisted her helm and focused one oversized optic on the mech. He'd stood, his posture stiff with suspicion and (murderous?) intent, which was only enhanced by the rifle held across his chest. It was ludicrously sized for little old her, really: she could have crawled up the chamber if she were so suicidally inclined.

She did not, however, believe that Fortress Maximus would appreciate the humour in that being pointed out to him. This was a humour-less mech, and damn near sparkless in the minds of the Vehicons.

What a super chat this won't be... Hopefully he'll take a sweetened cube.

::Soundwave's turned up some base co-ordinates I'm cleared to offer in exchange for information on technology and weapons that the Autobots may have gained.::

Fairwinds did not, in fact, have any such permission to give out coordinates. She figured that if she made the judgement call, she'd be able to support the decision. Else go into hiding. She'd heard Vegas was nice.

[Deleted]

Maximus pressed his mouth into a hard line. His finger curled over the trigger of his rifle.

Intelligence on MECH.

That the cassette was lying merely to set herself up into a tactically advantageous position was the most logical assumption. She was a Decepticon, and it was her function to manipulate and deceive. It was hard-coded into her. But even Maximus could not deny that intel on MECH was sought after these days, by both factions. He cared little for the human organization himself, but he suspected that their existence troubled Optimus more than the Prime let on. They presented a clear and grotesque danger to both his Autobots and their allies alike.

Kill the creature, growled the voice in Maximus' head. Blast her out of the sky. But he respected Optimus. And he owed him. For his judgement and kindness. If acquiring valuable data on MECH could help to ease that debt...

Breathing deeply, Maximus weighed his options.

"All right," he said. He hoisted his rifle, laying it upright against his shoulder, and grudgingly stepped back. "Approach, but maintain separation. I will agree to your proposition. Consider this a temporary cease-fire."

[Deleted]

Tchyeah. Like if I shot at you you’d even notice…

Once Fortress Maximus had announced the ceasefire and lowered his rifle, Fairwinds was at least assured that she wasn’t wasting her time with this bot. Or risking her tail plates.

::Alright, cool. ‘m coming down.::

She came down at a faster clip, landing neatly some twenty meters away from the looming mech in the dirt. It was pretty out here - in a completely barren of life, sort of way, and the sun was streaking the air with oranges and reds. She looked out over the horizon and settled her plates, easing her vents down from the long flight that had so pleasantly warmed her frame and stretched her hydraulics. The cassette hadn’t left the ship in two weeks, and was revelling in the sky and space.

It also gave both mecha a moment to get used to one another’s nearness. It was always a tenuous thing, a ceasefire – particularly when decided upon by two individuals without witnesses. Whole lot of trust required, and Fairwinds was genuinely unnerved by this Autobot. By the reputation he had gained by his ferocious actions on Earth alone.

Not liking being flat footed, Fairwinds picked around for at least a rock to stand on before looking up to the Autobot. He was clearly still dubious about this, but at least he was inclined to listen.

“Kay, so, MECH. They’re really gunning for us now, regardless of faction, and they’re getting better at it. Learning how to hurt us.”

She clamped down on her field, but the cold shiver at how they’d done that off her own mesh, and that of Roulette’s too, and how what they’d learned may have directly contributed to the weapon that had seen her Master so damaged he’d been relieved of command… It came on stronger than she’d thought. If Maximus caught it – fine. Fairwinds knew the value of apparent vulnerability in situations like this. Posturing and apathy wouldn’t do her any favours in this conversation.

“We… think it’d be prudent to open a line of communication about the MECH problem, because they’re turning into a real threat. And not just cuz of how they come on like fire ants, or how they’re entrenched all over the place with apparently endless, top-secret resources. But because they’re after us, our mesh, and we can only speculate on what their end game is.”

The cassette paused a moment, wishing she had her carrier’s oratory skills. Megatron had tasked her for this because he trusted her implicitly, but also, he’d made a point to tell her, because she could be informal. And this was a very informal meeting. “I’m not here to negotiate teaming up or sharing resources or anything like that. Just, seeing how similar our experiences are. What we can learn from each other about these glitches.”

Fairwinds extended one wing, gesturing between them both.

“So, I propose that we talk straight with each other. I ask you something, and you ask me, and we say what we can without compromising our side or getting strung up when we get back home. What’d’you think?”

[Deleted]

Maximus had remained stiff and upright when the cassette alighted upon a rock. No trace of expression crossed the big tank’s stony face. He stood like the shadowed flank of a mountain, cold and dark and unyielding, his rifle braced against his shoulder.

Inwardly, he fumed. A Decepticon sat less than one hundred feet away from him – a Decepticon that, by his own word, he was not allowed to kill. By whatever shreds of his old honour still remained, his hands were tied. He wasn’t certain whether he should feel irate or disgusted with himself.

But he would obey the ceasefire. At least until the Deception violated it. Then his hands would be released, and he would be free to do with her as he pleased.

If she violated it.

Maximus cycled a long, crisp draft of air through his system, breathing in cool thoughts and venting the heat and irritation. His red optics flickered.

“Without compromising our factions, without endangering our own personal standings,” he said stiffly. “Fine. I will agree to this, if only because the Autobots have acknowledged that MECH cannot be allowed to present a threat to Cybertronian life or the government of our technology. Chief Justice Tyrest would be spinning in his grave to know MECH had made as much of an ingress upon the latter as they already have, if he’s even still alive.”

He set his jaw, thinking. The Decepticon seemed distraught about the subject. Perhaps this was a genuine effort to openly, if not officially, acknowledge the mutual danger they shared. For the Autobot’s sake – for Optimus’ – he would at least find out.

Carefully.

“Breakdown was the first to run afoul of them,” he said. “In the sense that he was deliberately targeted as a Cybertronian. He spent time with them. Has he offered no insight into what they intended to use him for?”

[Deleted]

Fairwinds stiffened at the wording more than the question. Of course Breakdown was going to come up, for exactly the reason Maximus put across. However the way he asked it, as if Breakdown had such insight to offer but was deliberately holding it back... Her plates bristled, and she rattled her tongue inside her beak.

"Straight up dissection. They weren't even sure we were sentient, back then, and were investigating him as purely advanced, alien technology."

It was a short answer. Curt, and though it answered the question minimally, it wasn't going to do much to further a dialogue. Fairwinds scowled at some point in the sky between the Autobot's left tank tred and the side of his head, thinking on that dead bit of metal where Breakdown's optic had been slowly, clumsily extracted.

"They kept him conscious through it, but not out of ignorance. Breakdown... There was a sadistic element to it. They wanted him to hurt, to assert their superiority. And there's evidence... There's reason to think, now, that they wanted to know if he experienced pain like they understood it. And how acutely. How deep into the mesh they needed to go."

She cycled a fresh wave of desert air. Went through the stills she'd taken from Knock Out's file of her master's melted and pitted mash, and the black bubbles that had exploded across his optic as the acid went through. They'd shot Roulette and herself down with ammunition tailored to their hide, and no doubt developed from chunks taken from Breakdown's.

"Have any Autobots been taken by MECH for experimentation like that?" she asked, her optics returning into sharp focus on Maximus's faceplate.

[Deleted]

Maximus went rigid without a sound.

His wary stance pulled upright, even as every piece of plating or half-opened cowling clamped tightly shut. The hand still holding onto his cocked rifle gripped hard, the knuckles whining against the stress.

He had only heard about the dissection, that the Decepticon had lost an optic in the attack. But this -

Sadism. Superiority. Torture.

It took him a moment to collect himself, at least enough to make a civil answer.

"Yes," he muttered. "One of our fliers. Our medic did an assessment of the damage: he was shot. Repeatedly. With weapons of various and increasing ballistic penetrative power. The current thesis is that MECH was using him to test their arsenal on, as well as the strength of his armour and underlying mesh. Finding weak gaps in it. And experimenting with improving their ordnance. He's like a sieve. Full of hard ammo and holes, and various monitoring and surveillance equipment."

A pause. "Our medic also believes that, seeing as they used a jet-type to perform these tests upon, their knowledge of how to exploit weaknesses in jet-type aerials will be to their advantage. They know how the transformation sequence for that class basically works now, and where it's inherent frailties lie. Might want to warn your jets about that. They'll be the most at risk from now on, until MECH captures another mode class type."

Maximus briefly closed his optics. This was a lot easier if he tried to convince himself he was giving a report to a superior, rather than the enemy.

"One other thing. They succeeded in gaining some sort of wireless control over his basic motor functions. No idea yet how far up his neural net that remote control went. Enough to take it over."

He opened his optics and gave her an unreadable look. "Have any other Decepticons been caught aside from Breakdown?"

[Deleted]

Instinctively, the cassette's seams sealed tight over the transformation hinges, gears and lines that ran through her entire frame. Commander Starscream was gonna be thrilled to hear that MECH were focusing their skills on jet-types now that they'd pretty much mastered bringing grounders down.

At Maximus's question... Her relatively weak armour creaked with the strain she was putting it under as those memories came howling back to the fore. Roulette's optic and the dead light in the other one. How her brain module was still itching like insects were crawling in there and chewing wires, changing things.

"Primus."

Fairwinds shook her head, surprising herself with her own voice. She frowned and scuffed her claws against the rock, thin grains trailing from the grooves to pile on the ground. "Uh, yeah, two. We... They both got out. They were going after processor interfaces then. Lots of invasive scans, reality manipulations, some pretty sophisticated simulation programs. Nothing like the puppetting you're talking about, though. Did you manage to undo it? No wait - scratch that. Waste of a question."

Bots had been mech-napped, as her master had said, and the experimentation that victim had undergone had yielded MECH some terrifying fruit. It was interesting in a depressing sort of way that MECH weren't squandering their limited amount of subjects by repeating experiments, but instead tasking each facility a Cybertronian was taken to with a specific focus and goal.

The other major piece of intelligence that the Decepticons were lacking was the possible involvement of human agencies whom were already aware of the Cybertronians here on Earth. Like the Autobots kept their base off the radar, so did the specific branch of the military that they were cosied up with.

She met his cool stare boldly. "The human military that the Autobots are liaising with - how much intel' have they got on MECH. That seems legit, specifically."

[Deleted]

Though Maximus narrowed his optics at the ’we’, he said nothing.

“Couldn’t say,” he said. “Our contact with their military has spoken little on the subject. And I’m not at liberty to give out what information he has parted with. Not even Optimus Prime could. The intelligence the local human military has gathered on MECH is their own to disseminate or share as they choose. We have no authority over its distribution.”

He paused, frowning.

“However, it may be safely assumed that the majority of MECH’s combat troops come from a similar military background,” he said grudgingly. “They show signs of having similar training, tactics, and equipment. Our contact all but confirmed as much. No one as of yet knows where they hire their civilian ’contractors’ from.”

Maximus fell silent. He eyed the cassette, taking in her closed plating and the way she shifted atop the rock, as if uneasy. It did not seemed to be a feigned distress, but he kept his guard up regardless.

“You mentioned base coordinates,“ he said. ”For other MECH facilities, like the one uncovered at Ruby Hill?”

[Deleted]

Fairwinds pulled a face at the mention of Ruby Hill, and at the dead end answer. Obviously they would need an official channel of communication opened with Optimus Prime himself for that one, though hopefully the query would alert Fortress Maximus and cast a suspicious optic over their allies.

"Near Salt Lake City. North East, actually. Here." She sent him the coordinates on an open transmission. "We've not investigated the site yet."

Her tenure with MECH had yielded a respectable haul of information, most of which had put Soundwave onto several leads which had already borne fruit. Surprisingly, they'd found signs that they were not the only ones actively watching MECH right now, though backtracking those leads had taken a backseat to operational running on the Nemesis. Things had been rather out of synch these last two weeks, and with no one currently in MECH's possession, there had been no urgency to warrant particular focus.

After all, Fairwinds reasoned, they'd been a little occupied with Master being all Fifty First Dates.

"Don't know what it's for. Probably nothing nice. Maybe a lab. But we're watching it, so if you guys decide to go in guns blazing without inviting us to the party, we'll break out the popcorn."

"Since you raised Ruby Hill: MECH got out of that clusterfrag with some data on Cybertronian biotech intact. Important data, at that, which they've got dedicated not-strictly-weaponry facilities for. We know there's at least one big lab on the West coast of America devoted to neural systems. No idea where, yet, but we've been trying to narrow down further. Got our best Soundwave on it."

Fortress Maximus, whilst neither settled nor comfortable, was at least co-operating soundly with the exchange. She appreciated his frank, business-like approach. If she'd been talking to another mecha more like her, this wouldn't be going anywhere near as efficiently.

"What info do you guys have on the leader?" Fairwinds asked. "Silas."

[Deleted]

Another base, northeast of Salt Lake City.

Thought Maximus gave no outward reaction, inwardly he swore. Another military site or laboratory, potentially similar to the one they had already uncovered. And another one somewhere on the west coast, still hidden – devoted to neural research. That was big news.

Neural research. His mouth thinned. That in particular was an ominous portent. It meant that MECH was not content to merely study and dissect their bodies, but their minds as well. This was something he needed to get word of to Optimus – and their chief medical officer - immediately. Perhaps an attack could be staged on the Salt Lake City base, allowing them to retrieve further intel. But for now...

Maximus focused, bringing his attention back to the conversation.

“Silas?” he said. He grunted. “Very little. A handful of us have come face to face with him in the past, giving us a physical description. But background information on the man is slim to none. He’s ex–military, like his men. Special Operations. A former colonel. None of his former employers seem to like talking about him much.”

He paused, frowning.

“You mentioned that MECH escaped Ruby Hill with some data on our biotech intact. Do you know if any of it included data on our brain modules or neural nets? Did any of your prisoners suffer neural damage at the humans’ hands?”

[Deleted]

Quick as that, she could feel them in her head again. The stinging itch of their cables shoved into her recessed ports; the invasive, primitive coding that had tied her processor up in knots; the cold touch of them sifting through what they could reach of her, pulling her apart. Impossible to describe or forget.

Fairwinds shook her head, the quiver running down her curved neck and terminating in her collar thrusters. She leaned to one side and scratched at her trailing crests with one foot, leaving scratches with her talons.

"I dunno. Probably. Maybe."

The cassette forced her foot back down, returning to a more non-crazy pose, and cracked off a section of her perch in the process. She'd drawn a line of energon in her mesh, sliding off her claws and onto the sandy earth. The droplets lay dark and thick.

"Safe to assume so," she replied, sounding a little less agitated than before. "It looks like that's what they're interested in, now."

Fairwinds lapsed into uncharacteristic silence, scowling at the Autobots massive pedes and the lowered barrel of his rifle. She almost forgot to ask a question, but Maximus waited in silence, honoring the arrangement.

Finally, she asked: "Has anyone talked to the Neuties about all this, yet? Cuz they're a real easy resource for MECH to exploit."