Ep 2. 'State of Redress' - Closed

[Deleted]

<<OOC: Week 2, Day 6>>

For security reasons, the tables in Haven's bar were bolted to the floor. Layby ought to have welded them - it had only taken a few good kicks to upend them to build a barricade across the door. It wouldn't stop Deuce if he was about, but likely he'd have the sense to stay away.

After Ratchet had left, Layby hadn't known what to do with himself. Shock lingered in his systems, and it was with a numb feeling curdling cold in his tanks that he'd taken the box down into the mine. Down the tunnels, deeper than most went, to as far as he'd reached carving out as-yet-unoccupied living quarters.

He'd put the box in the last room in the corridor. It had taken a full minute to decide where in the empty space, but he'd settled the stark white container on the floor against the center of the back wall. It was a poor tomb, but it would do until he could do better.

Layby sat quietly with Cleaver for a bit. Then loudly, safe underground and well-walled from anyone who might hear him.

He finally emerged some hours later feeling worse than when he'd gone in. Existing hurt. Shock had gone to grief, to anger, to frustrating, to despair through a whirling maelstrom that shrank the universe down to a seething point of pain which he wholly occupied.

It had been a very long time since Layby had drunk irresponsibly; part of being a bouncer and a barkeep. He'd never been the sort to see High Grade or any other intoxicating substance as a coping mechanism. The bar, though, every stick of it worked with his own two hands, was the only place he could retreat to that didn't make him sick with the thought of Cleaver.

One cube after walling himself in in the dark became two. Then four. Then the bottle of Nytrix he'd been saving for something special. Something stupid, he'd thought, when he'd cracked the seal and drank from the neck.

Layby didn't pass out, but he did 'wake' from a blank stupor some time the next day. There were a lot of empties around him on the floor behind the bar, and he was sat tucked up against the shelves beneath the taps. His mouth was dry and his systems buzzing with chemical charge, but his mind was clear and sharp.

He picked up a cube and began turning it in his hands, crushing it slowly whilst staring ahead. It was an old party trick to mold a cube into a hollow sphere, and his hands remembered the careful destructive motions better than his conscious mind.

On the edge of the countertop in front of the mech, James lay with his head resting on his paws. His large eyes were fixed on Layby, watchful, and his boneless sprawl suggested he'd been there for some time.

Layby rolled the sphere between his palms, his hands slick with spilled drinks. "Ah let her down, James."

The cat blinked. Layby huffed a quiet laugh. "Yeah. Wasn't like she'da let me. Primus held, I tried."

His face darkened, twisted, and he hurled the ball across the floor and into the wrecked seating area. James jerked and bolted with great, bounding strides.

Layby covered his face with both hands and pressed hard, armor shaking. "'s a bad idea."

It was a lie. He was aching with the want of it.

MECH had taken Cleaver away from him.

After centuries navigating the deadliest regions of war-torn space; bargaining for their mesh and running like hell when that fell through from warships, marauders and mercenaries. Cleaver had negotiated for a DMZ with Megatron personally; had stood bleeding with her fight for it, and had worked hard to turn this old mine into a home for anyone in want of one.

MECH had snatched her and tortured her, killed her and kept pieces of her remains.

How dare they, after everything they'd been through?

Layby hadn't been able to protect her from MECH, but he could sure as hell avenge her.

Deciding on it, giving over and resolving himself to the violence to come, brought a strange sort of peace to him. There was a purpose now. A task that needed carrying out after the Autobots brought the rest of what they had of her home.

Tipping his head back with a thunk against the shelves, Layby opened his comm..

Though they'd only met a few times and spoken little more than that, he and Fortress Maximus had built an easy rapport and mutual respect. Not long ago, the former warden had given him his personal frequency. Layby turned to it now.

::You recievin' me, Max? Can yeh talk?::

Layby had no idea where to find MECH, but the Autobots did. Maximus, hopefully, would give him somewhere to go.

[Deleted]

Halfway across the world, another robot startled awake.

It was evening at Black Rock. The sun was red and low over the western ranges. The airfield was still active, despite the deepening sky and the pleasant coolness of the air. A transport aircraft lifted off from the runway, its strobe and navigational lights glowing. The runway was lit, twin rows of white lights that arrowed straight across the desert for over ten thousand feet.

Lights shone at the tops of the hangers. It glowed from within an old aircraft hanger to the northwest end of the field.

Maximus hadn't been sleeping.

Not really. In his tank mode he had simply rested dormant within the hanger, far enough back to avoid the last rays of sunlight that slanted across the base. A low-power state allowed his energy reserves to slowly recharge themselves - a comfortable, drowsy state. Fortunate too, since energon was difficult to come back these days. At least the day had not been a busy one. The parts of it worth reflecting upon had mostly been spent in tense conversation with Agent Fowler. Plotting details. More talk about MECH, about Nell Collins. He was going to burn out his holo generator at this rate.

Now, Maximus stirred. He tiredly switched on his radio suite to inspect the origin of the transmission hailing him.

As soon as he realised who it was from, he was wide awake.

In Africa, the crisp voice of Fortress Maximus rang through Layby's commline.

"Layby." The warden sounded weary, but alert. "Yes, I read you loud and clear. I can talk. Is there something I can help you with?"

[Deleted]

Layby didn't hear the tiredness, or think of the hour on the other side of the world. He only heard the question, and his scar-split mouth cracked in a bitter grin at the sound of it.

"Primus ah hope so, Max."

He pressed his hands flat to the floor on either side of him and pushed himself straighter. The tocking sound of empty receptacles wouldn't be transmitted over the comm. line, mercifully. Maximus might not take him seriously if he knew the Neutral was still overcharged.

Layby sat forward and drew his knees up, resting the thick weights of his forearms across his knees. There were mounts inside for weapons, and his whole frame was littered with armoured storage compartments for ammunition. He'd been built to supply a squad in a fire-fight - a platoon if he was hauling a trailer at the same time. There weren't many heavy-ammunition mecha around nowadays who took hard-shell reloads.

Personally, he only knew of the one on the comm. line.

"Did yeh hear..." A blurt of static, like a hiccup of something held back. Layby put the knuckles of one hand into his left eyesocket and rubbed. "D'yeh know 'bout Cleaver?"

[Deleted]

The tank gave an inner grimace.

That was a subject he had had been hoping to avoid. It was not something he felt comfortable discussing - not with the Autobots, and not with Layby.

But it was a question that deserved an answer. After a moment of silence as he collected himself, Maximus awkwardly said, "Yes. I was there when her body was found. I'm sorry for your loss."

With no desire to linger on the memory, he added, "Is this about Cleaver? Or… is this about MECH, perhaps?"

[Deleted]

Maximus could easily come off as stilted, bordering on rude, but it was a type of speech and manner that Layby had known before. It was common in mecha whom held positions of unenviable authority, giving grim orders and enforcing tough directives on a regular basis. Maximus was direct and blunt, but not unkind.

It meant that Layby did not react overly to the warden's statement that he had seen Cleaver's body in-situ. A fidget, but nothing more. Maximus would likely be willing to tell him some of the details of that if pressed.

But Maximus, apparently, had already determined what this sudden call was about. It was a sign that the Autobot had already speculated about an act vengeance. The question now was whether he was for or against the idea.

Layby dropped his fist from his orbital socket back onto his knee. He made a soft coarse sound, like a chuckle. "Yeh read my mind. Don't wanna ask yeh to break Autobot code, but ah need a pointer."

A pause, then a breathy ventilation could be heard over the channel. Something hard and thick had knotted up in Layby's vox, and it was an effort to shift it. "Ah need this, Max, 'fore ah lose it completely."

[Deleted]

The conversation was taking a serious turn.

In response, Maximus transformed.

He stood up from his transformation sequence and took a step forward. With a dark expression he leaned one forearm against the hanger doorway and looked warily back and forth at the apron outside. A handful of small twins had been pulled out onto the ramp as aircraft were repositioned within a maintenance hangar, and a fuel truck was parked nearby, but activity in his corner of the airfield was otherwise light. No one was near enough to watch him as he tackled this.

He leaned off the wall and turned back to the hanger.

"It's revenge, is it?" he said. "I had a feeling. Yeah. As it stands, I'm currently in a position to help you. What are you looking for? Intel? Directions? We've picked up news of some potential MECH outposts recently. I'm not sure how reliable the information is, given the informant. We haven't been able to thoroughly follow up each lead yet, aside from sending up UAVs. But maybe it's a start. Just tell me what you want to know, and what your plans are."

[Deleted]

'Revenge' was so small a word, it almost diminished the meaning it bore. Ratchet had given Layby a box. The two syllables did not remotely cover what he wanted.

But Maximus hadn't said 'no', wasn't talking him down from anything. The warden got it, Layby thought with a wave of relieved satisfaction.

He could have said something half-noble, like wanting to make MECH think twice before carving up one of their kind again. Hit a dangerous site and take out some of their kit; set them back on their asses a bit.

Maximus didn't need to hear that, though. He already sounded half on-board with Layby's intentions.

"Ah want to make a dent," he finally replied, flat and frank. "Just need somewhere to go an' do it. High risk, low - don't care. 've got ten times the armor rating Cleaver has."

Had.

He'd been designed to shield mecha from explosions and get straight back up before the debris settled. His fists creaked where they hung off his kneecaps.

"If yeh find a place where ah can hit'em where it hurts, ah don't need anybot's permission to go."

[Deleted]

Maximus felt his thoughts racing.

"Hm," he said.

He walked back into the hanger, scratching his chin. "There is one site that might be just what you're looking for. It's currently flagged as a medium-risk target, but that's only by the standards of the human forces. They've hesitated so far on sending a team in to raid it because so little is known about its defensive capabilities. Agent Fowler can't risk sending units against a potentially hard target. Casualties would draw negative attention from the higher ups he doesn't need right now. I gather MECH is a bit of a thorny issue with his superiors."

Maximus was well aware of the reasons why. But that was not something he was about to discuss openly.

"Anyway, from what I know about the location, it's small and isolated, and well dug into difficult terrain, making it hard to reach. But that just means it's safe from prying eyes - for us as well as MECH. And you seem built to tackle a tough ride. I'll need a day to clear an attack with Agent Fowler, just to make sure that hitting it won't disrupt any plans he and his men have for the site. But if that is what you're looking for, I'll get you his blessing and provide you with coordinates."

He paused and glanced out the hanger doors, to the red sunset outside.

"I have only one condition."

[Deleted]

There was activity out in the Atrium - quiet signs of life. It sounded like a mecha, Altruous perhaps given the lightness of the steps - more scuffing than weighty thuds. The lights came up to a brighter setting -Haven's heart was never completely dark- and the shadows the barricade cast cut strange shapes on the ceiling.

Layby thought he saw a face in the dark arrangement, staring down at him reproachfully. He rubbed his eyes and it was gone again. Just shadows and light.

"Name it."

If Maximus was giving him a MECH site that warranted a high-caliber, full-tilt attack, he'd take any condition given to him.

And Layby trusted that the Autobot wasn't about to demand that he not kill anyone. Unlike some, Maximus didn't seem the type to let the size of a species supersede their right to commit atrocities without consequence.

[Deleted]

This time, it was the Warden who answered.

"I come with you," he said.

Maximus spoke with calm authority. His deep voice rang with it. "It's not that I doubt your abilities or your intentions. Far from it. But this is MECH we're dealing with. What they currently lack in technology they more than make up for in numbers, tactics, logistics, and brutality. Agent Fowler takes them very seriously, and therefore so do I. That means no one-mech suicide assaults."

He stared out across the airfield. "I'll come with you, I'll watch your back, I'll give you artillery covering fire. In return, I'll give you those coordinates, and the opportunity to strike back at your t- at the soldiers who killed Cleaver. I won't get in your way, and I won't hold you back. This isn't my battle. It's yours. You'll call the shots. But I'll be there. We got a deal?"

[Deleted]

That wasn't a deal. That was a gift.

The thought of charging into the enemy, no-holds-barred, with an experienced tank at his side filled his lines with white heat. It was energizing, damn near life-affirming.

For the first time in days, Layby cracked a smile. It was narrow and grim, but hopeful. "Yessir."

The 'thank you' was implied, and could be said later. Maximus understood what he was asking for and was giving it to him, and more. The warden was also keeping him unobtrusively in check and taking responsibility for the whole thing, but without impeding his intentions.

And then there was the assured authority in the way Maximus spoke that had appealed right from the start. Everyone knew where they stood with the Autobot tank, and the certainty and bluntness reminded him of his superior officers back in his squad days. It reminded him of Cleaver.

'The soldiers who killed Cleaver.' No beating around the crater; just direct and frank.

He needed some of that now.

"I'll be ready."

Time to load up.




[[OOC: Close?]]