[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Reporting In (Closed)

[Javelin]

Week Four, Day One

Late afternoon

She stood in the hallway, looking at the door before her with a little trepidation.

Less than an hour ago, Javelin had returned to Omega, her wide patrol having finally ended.

A week ago, the slender blue scout had approached Prowl, asking for permission to go on wide patrol – patrolling out further than normal, and on her own. In all honesty, she had been expecting the mech to deny her request. MECH was still out there, after all, and it could be dangerous. Still, she had had to ask. The wall of Omega seemed to be closing in on her – an old symptom that seemed to crop up now and then, whenever stress started to get to her. With everything that had been going on at the base, Javelin had been desperate to get out, to leave it behind her, even if only for a few days.

So when Prowl had said yes, her first reaction had been shock, the next joy.

The allowance of wide patrol came with stipulations: she had to be careful, she had to try and remain near humans in their vehicles as much as possible, to keep MECH from openly attacking her. They couldn’t risk being seen attacking a “human”. She had had to ping in once every day, just to let whoever was monitoring the main room that day knew she was still alive and safe. She was also expected to keep a lookout for untapped Energon.

And once she returned to Omega, to refuel, and immediately report to Prowl for a debriefing.

Which is what found her standing outside the police officer’s personal quarters – quarters that doubled for an office.

Javelin had a deep respect for police officers- respect that was actually hiding an anxiety. Police officers could mess your life up very easily if needed, able to poke around in your past where they had no business poking.

Still...he had granted her request, which was nice of him. Javelin was aware he wasn’t doing it for her, there was a great advantage to wide patrols, gathering intel from every possible source.

Might as well get started, she thought.

Raising her right hand, she politely but loudly knocked on Prowl’s door, and waited for it to be opened.

[Prowl]

Prowl rarely did things for others for reasons that could be considered “nice”. These days there had to be something of benefit to either Prowl or the Autobot cause for him to allow such things as a solo wide patrol in these crazy times. But his records showed that Javelin had been trained for such endeavors, meaning that she was perfectly capable of taking on such an assignment by herself. Add to that, they always needed up to date reconnaissance data as information was always key to victory.

But given the events that had happened yesterday, Prowl was starting to wish he had denied Javelins request so that he had her here at base when he had taken his away team to Windshield’s offsite location.

“Enter!” He barked once he heard the knock on the door, not bothering to look up from the datapad that held his attention.

He was sitting at his desk that was set up against the wall at a perpendicular angle next to his recharge slab. Normally Prowl would have probably rated an office of his own, but with space being a premium at Omega he was content with having his desk inside his room. While others might decorate the interior of their personal quarters however they chose, Prowl’s walls and floor were bare of any decoration. The only thing that set his room apart was the massive pile of datapads on his desk which contained all sorts of reports and files on all sorts of subjects and individuals. Somewhere in that stack there was probably a datapad with Javelin’s personal file if he cared to look.

Well, that could wait. Now it was time to get some answers.

[Javelin]

Upon hearing the voice call out from within, Javelin took a deep invent, slowly and quietly let it out, and opened the door. Stepping inside, she closed the door behind her before turning around and facing the lone occupant in the room.

It was hard to miss Prowl, for the simple reason he was one of the few things in the room. There was a recharge slab, a desk drowning under datapads, a chair, and...Prowl.

Nothing else.

Javelin managed to keep her face neutral as her mind expressed surprise and almost a little shock at the room.

How can he have nothing in here? Not a single poster? Not a single photo, or ....or book, or....anything at all? Does he just...work when he’s not recharging? Primus, how can anyone live like this?!

Dampeners in her lower legs reduced the noise of her footfalls as she approached the desk, muting what would normally be clear footfalls. Javelin’s optics flicked from the pile of datapads to Prowl’s face, and back again, seconds before she came to a stop several paces from the front of the desk, and quietly cleared her throat.

“I’ve just returned from wide patrol, sir. Refuelled, and reporting in, as ordered.”

She waited for him to acknowledge her, and give her instruction.

Now that she was actually in his presence again, Javelin felt the faint stir of anxiety. It was the same anxiety she always felt when she was in the presence of someone who had a great deal of authority over her, and was known to use it when they felt it was justified. She knew Prowl was a good person to have on the side of the Autobots, but if rumours could be believed, he could cause as much trouble for his own side as for the Decepticons.

[Prowl]

Despite the dampeners in Javelin’s legs that muted her footfalls, Prowl knew when the femme had entered the room and stopped infront of him. Part of the reason why he continued to wear the gold visor over his optics was that it enabled him to appear to be looking one direction when in fact he was studying something else.

And that was the case now. As soon as Javelin had opened the door Prowl had looked up from the datapad he was reading and watched Javelin close the door then walk up in front of him. He was a bit perturbed that she did not snap to attention when she stopped and addressed him but did not show it. If he had to guess, it was because her mind was preoccupied with the state of his personal quarters. There was a reason why Prowl very rarely allowed others into his private sanctum; it meant that he didn’t get close to them. He didn’t have time for frivolous social interaction, not when there was a war to fight and an enemy to destroy.

He waited a few moments, ostensibly finishing the paragraph of the page he had been reading on the datapad before turning it off and setting it on the desk. He then turned his head towards Javelin and gave her a short nod.

“Very well then, what do you have to report from your reconnaissance?”

As he spoke Prowl pulled out another datapad and opened it up, then grabbed a stylus. It was a holdover from his pre-war occupation as a criminal investigator. Even if someone would give a formal witness statement as a part of the investigation, Prowl still liked to write down any useful pieces of information that they would give during the initial interview.

[Javelin]

Although Javelin had been nervously waiting for the meeting with Prowl, she wasn’t new to such things. Despite some of the Autobots claiming they were all one big happy family, she knew different. They weren’t family.

They were an army.

Of course, yes, friends were made within the ranks, it was bound to happen. You couldn’t put beings with personalities, likes, dislikes, quirks and emotions to interact with each other and not develop friends.

Or enemies.

Sometimes such friendships made it easier to survive war. Sometimes friendship, love….even hate…gave someone the edge they needed to get through what should be a fatal encounter. Javelin wasn’t so dead inside she didn’t know that.

But she did know that despite it all, the Autobots were an army, and as an army, there were things you had to do. Give reports on projects, operations and the like, were one of them.
Javelin had given hundreds since she joined the Autobots.

In fact, it was the old routine of assembling all she had seen and done into a coherent report that eased her nerves somewhat. This was familiar territory.

With a clear and even tone, Javelin spoke.

“My first evening away from Omega didn’t see much of note, sir. I discovered a very large convoy of humans travelling from Jasper to a city in the next state over, to some sort of convention for automobile enthusiasts. I was able to remain in their midst for the duration of the trip there and back. Due to the large number of individuals involved, my being there but not being seen interacting with anyone in a major way was accepted readily enough. I encountered no obvious signs of M.E.C.H. – if they were there, they didn’t want to draw any attention to themselves either.

On the trip there and back, though, sir, I was able to pick up trace amounts of Energon – in particular on three human vehicle’s tires. I wasn’t able to check into it very much without risking being discovered. I did, however, notice all three vehicles were what humans call “Off-Roaders” or “Recreation Vehicles” – vehicles able to handle non-paved areas such as desert dunes and the like. The signals of the Energon were so faint, I believe it was mixed with the dust and dirt from some local areas used by humans for recreational sport. I narrowed down two such areas that are nearby, sir, if you wish to investigate.”

Here Javelin paused, in case Prowl wanted to ask questions, or if he’d just get her to continue.

[Prowl]

She wasn’t a beginner at this. Good.

As Javelin began to recount the details of her mission, Prowl was jotting down quick shorthand notes on the datapad, covering the basics of the topics that Javelin touched on. He frowned slightly when she mentioned that she had journeyed with a human convoy for a bit, but as long as she hadn’t broken her cover there was not too much to be concerned about. Besides, MECH might have indeed been using such a large convoy as a cover to transport something.

“This convoy, how many vehicles and what types?”

Given how many of the Autobots seemed to pick such flashy alternate modes, this might be a good tactic to adopt if they needed to move cross country without arousing suspicion and the ground bridge was down.

The detail about energon caused him to look up for a moment, then hurriedly write down ENERGON and underline it twice. This could be one of three things. First off it could be an untapped Energon deposit, a clue to the location of the Decepticon base, or maybe even a Cybertronain shipwreck of some kind that hadn’t been discovered yet. Or it could be neither of those things, and could just be trace amounts of energon that had gotten stuck in the soil.

Either way, they needed to investigate.

“Do that. I will dispatch teams once we have the locations so that we can investigate further.”

He wrote a note down on his datapad to do such a thing.

“What else?”

[Javelin]

Javelin shifted slightly, trying to keep her eyes on Prowl, but not end up actually staring at him. It was somewhat difficult, as there really wasn’t anything else in the room to look at, just bare walls for the most part. She could just blankly stare at a bare wall, but Javelin’s optics were usually always looking about for something. Her brain continually tried to find visual patterns, and while there weren’t always patterns to be found in everyday things, there was still almost always something to look at.

She was starting to find Prowl’s quarters even more unsettling.

There has to be something, right? Some…thing…he’s got somewhere that adds some kind of personal touch to this place, I just can’t see it. It would be private, so it’s just hidden away somewhere, is all.

Having convinced herself that Prowl just had personal things hidden away for privacy and wasn’t really a soulless person with no thought beyond end the war however possible, Javelin continued.

"There were approximately between 60 and 72 vehicles.  It was hard to pin down a number as I didn't want to wait until most were past before joining. I wanted to stay more in the middle, as it was actually easier to blend in there.  Also, vehicles and humans joined and left the convoy at irregular intervals - sometimes catching up when we were close to the destination, sometimes leaving for unknown reasons.

The humans, needing to rest and refuel both themselves and their vehicles on a rather short cycle, would often gather about and talk. My previous experience in infiltrating organic species on unknown planets served me in good stead being able to hang about nearby and listen to them talk, pick up information.”

She knew she didn’t have to explain to Prowl what her original role was in the Autobot army. She had a talent for “blending in”, her ability to find patterns in speech and visual effects making her a good fit for organic infiltration. Easy enough to be secretly put down on an unknown planet, adapt a holoform that blended in with whatever species was the top sentient one, then just hang around, learning their language and culture. Once that was gained, it was easy enough to listen to gossip and find out if any of the native species spoke of seeing “people of metal” or large strange buildings in distant, empty lands. Any signs that Decepticons were there.

Sometimes her work enabled Javelin to get to know individuals within the population, and sometimes, interact with them.

Sometimes, befriend them.

It was always painful to leave, knowing she would never see them again, never know how their lives ran, knowing that they would age and die, that their descendents would age and die, while she herself would just keep on going, on to the next planet, and the next. They would never know who she really was.

What she really was.

Or that she had come to care for them, close friends, almost like this word called family.

She continued, “There was the usual gossip about individuals and events, but two caught my attention. One was that it was getting known that Jasper had a good number of high-end vehicles going around. Higher than normal for a smallish town, I mean. There were a number of ideas bandied about as to why this was – from ideas that a group of millionaires had retried there and brought their cars with them, to conspiracy theories about “Men in Black” and secret government organizations performing illegal experiments on people. I mean, their conspiracies are crazy, but it seems we might be attracting more attention than we like.”

[Prowl]

60 to 72 vehicles...

Primus...

Prowl suddenly was filled with flashbacks to before the war, back when the Cybertronian civilization was still somewhat intact, to scenes that he could only describe as organized chaos. City streets during rush hour, or worse. He remembered when there was a Decepticon rally in the Dead End, back before they had started blowing up buildings and committing terrorist acts. Back when they were just a nuisance. He and Speedtrap had been tasked with crowd control...it would have been easier managing four times as many turbofoxes. He wondered just how the human authorities managed to keep control in situations such as that...

Still, the information would be useful. There were under forty individuals here at Omega, and more than a few of them had aerial alternate forms. If the humans were fine with letting 60-72 vehicles through at a time...surely five at a time would be nothing.

“I’m sure it did.”


As long as she didn’t get caught, Prowl didn’t care how she got the job done provided she stayed within the guidelines set by him and Optimus. Javelin had his trust to allow him to let her operate solo, especially at this point.

The news about Jasper caused his frown to reappear, deeper than usual. It was like Primus himself was influencing all these new recruits to pick up these flashy alternate modes. Sooner than later they were bound to attract attention. It would be manageable if they were in a larger city where the odds would balance out and provide them some safety...but no...they just had to be stuck out here in the middle of nowhere. Mades sense though...the American government wouldn’t want them blowing up two city blocks with crossfire.

“I’ll speak to Optimus Prime about that matter personally.”

[Javelin]

Javelin nodded as Prowl spoke – not as if giving permission or even agreeing with what he was saying. He outranked her, and didn’t need her input whatsoever. It was merely to show that she was listening, keeping up with the conversation.

When he didn’t ask her another question straight away, there was a slight pause for moment, before she spoke up.

“I know I haven’t been gone very long, sir, but is there anything I should be aware of now that I’ve returned?”

Things happened so quickly – people could join, or be killed, in a day. Briefings on datapads were all well and good, but sometimes it was better to hear the latest news from someone’s mouth and not just reading bland words on a screen.

At least Javelin preferred it that way.

“Anything new with M.E.C.H., sir?”

[Prowl]

Prowl didn’t say anything for the moment as he heard Javelin’s question because he was trying to figure out how to say it. Despite his seemingly sparkless demeanor, Prowl did understand the nature of interpersonal relationships. Patch had been pretty popular around base before her abduction.

“There have been some developments that negatively impact our cause.”

A pause before the hammer dropped.

“Windshield was apparently killed by MECH, and Patch was abducted.”

There was a glaring absence of who Prowl thought had committed the abduction, because Prowl wasn’t so sure Windshield was killed by MECH. Oh it made perfect sense. A dissected Cybertronian body in the middle of nowhere, tire tracks from a big rig truck to haul off the loot, Patch nowhere to be found, and a culprit with means and motive. Only it just didn’t feel right. Prowl had been a criminal investigator for centuries before the Great War...and during that time he had learned the hard way to trust his spark when something didn’t feel right.

This was one of those times.

“We’re working on finding Patch, but so far the trail has gone cold.”

He had some theories, but no evidence that would have convicted the real perpetrator in an honest Cybertronian court of law. But Prowl trusted his spark, and he knew that he’d find something...

[Javelin]

When Prowl first spoke, Javelin had a sudden urge to just turn on a ped, and walk away. “...developments that negatively impact our cause” was a neat, political way of putting it. Developments had been negatively impacting the cause for a while now. It was, in fact, one of the reasons she had requested Long Patrol. She had a deep need to get out of the base, and away from everything....and everyone. And one in particular.

In all honesty, it was this that worried her. When Javelin had left Omega, Carbine was still in the brig, and her attempt to befriend him and try to make him feel less of a monster had failed spectacularly. She couldn’t have appeared more suspicious and two-faced if she had hired Decepticons to come visit. And, as always, it was easier for her to just....bolt from the mess she made rather than try to fix it.

If he’d even let her.

She had been worried about running into him back here on base, but she hadn’t seen him around at all. So she was wondering if he was still down there, in the brig. Of course...she was spending the majority of the time in her quarters, but still....

Prowl’s next words, however, shut down her previous thoughts, and left a sort of numb buzzing in her processor as she tried to make sense of what was just said.

Windshield dead, and Patch....abducted?

She heard herself speak, as if from a distance, “Wait, she...she’s gone? Patch was taken? What...when? When did this happen?”

She took a step forward, no longer in her "at ease" stance, anger starting to rise up in her voice, “Why wasn’t I told about this!? I was on Long Patrol – I could have been looking for her! Signs, or...or clues, something! I might have driven right past something important!

You know it was him, right? Windshield? That scrap-sucking fragger took her, and....how did it happen? Wasn’t anyone watching him!? The Decepticon!?”

[Prowl]

“That’s enough!” Prowl suddenly barked as he slammed a fist down onto his desk, causing the carefully stacked datapads to rattle and tumble down onto a mess on the desk, some even falling on the floor. Prowl paid them no mind, instead his visor was locked straight on Javelin. When he spoke next, there was a warning tone in his voice that almost dared Javelin to press her luck.

“Remember your place, Javelin.”

There was a long pause before Prowl spoke again, his voice having lost some of the edge in it.

“Your mission was of vital importance, beyond the life of one soldier, because it affects the lives of everyone in this outpost.”

As detrimental as Patch’s disappearance was, it wasn’t as much of a game changer as Ratchet’s loss had been. The young field medic might have been learning a few things from Ratchet, but she was nowhere near his level. As for Javelin’s suspicions regarding Windshield...that was closer to home for Prowl than he would let on. Despite having used the former Decepticon in an operation or two, Prowl never fully trusted him. This distrust combined with what he found at the crime scene made him doubt the fact that Windshield was truly dead, and that Patch was taken by MECH.

“Whether or not Windshield is truly offline is not your concern.”

That was all he would say on the matter. He didn’t need rumors spreading around the base giving mecha false hope about Patch, or having someone like Javelin running around the planet looking for a Decepticon who might not even be online anymore.

“Is there anything else you would like to report on about your patrol? If not, you’re dismissed. I want your written patrol report within two planetary rotations.”

[Javelin]

Javelin had expected Prowl to get angry. She had expected him to bark at her, attempting to draw her up short. Even as she spoke the words, a little voice in her mind told her to shut up, not to make waves with a superior officer.

She hadn’t expected the words that came out of his mouth, though.

It was as if time seemed to slow down for her – as if everything outside the absolute here and now faded back out of the picture, losing color and depth, and only herself, Prowl, and the desk between them existed. Even the falling datapads seemed unreal in some manner, not quite there.

Did he....oh, did he really say....?

A coldness crept over her frame, making her feel numb. It was a sensation she had felt before, one that was familiar to her. A feeling that, when it passed and was over, when she thought about it, it almost frightened her. It was as if she was disassociating from reality, extreme emotions fading back until only a cold, factual mindset existed. These fugues, when they happened, usually caused Javelin to do or say things she wouldn’t normally, as if another person existed inside her, and stepped out to do whatever needed to be done for survival, before fading into the background again. Unlike a split personality, however, Javelin was more than aware when they happened.

Dont!...a small part of her mind spoke up, Don’t make things worse!

But it was too late for that now.

Javelin smiled, a rather cold, sharp smile, and when she spoke, her voice was deceptively pleasant.

“What was that, Prowl? “Remember my place?” Ah yes, and where have I heard that before? Let me see...let me see...Ah yes. Now I remember.

All the little people back on Cybertron, that’s what they heard all the time, wasn’t it? The manual classes, the ones that did the dirty work, the ones that broke their backs mining the energon the elites drank at their fancy parties.

The parties where the protective classes like you ensured those same dirty manuals didn’t wander too close and upset the dinner guests.”

Javelin’s voice dropped low in a conspiratorial manner, speaking behind the back of a raised hand as if telling a great secret.

“Can’t have them becoming uncomfortable in their crystal towers, now, can we?”

Her hand dropped.

"Why, if memory serves me, we started a fucking war over it, didn’t we?

But yes, you’re right. Forgive this meaningless little scout her outburst over something as unimportant as the potential loss of a friend. I’ll try to do better, and follow in your footsteps, sir, and remember I’m just a cog - “

Here Javelin raised both arms, as if presenting Prowl with a gift.

“ - in the great Autobot war machine.”

Her arms dropped, as did her sharp smile. Her voice was flat.

“My report in two planetary rotations. Yes Sir.”

She saluted sharply, and turned on a ped. If Prowl didn’t say anything or call her back, she’d walk out of the room into the hall.

[Prowl]

He was about to give her another warning...

...until she stepped on a really big non-negotiable land mine.

All of a sudden, that calm and disconnected demeanor that Prowl tried so hard to cultivate shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.

He’d known about the corruption in the enforcement caste, it was an open secret by the time the war started. Something that wasn’t talked about except in hushed whispers. Of course originally he’d tried to change it, believing his superiors would do something and make things right. Except what he’d gotten instead was a demotion and reassignment to the Dead End, a place where enforcers who didn’t get with the program were expected to meet their untimely death by the end of the megacycle.

Except Prowl survived.

With a sudden eruption of violence Prowl was on his feet, his desk suddenly tipping over at the sudden movement that disturbed its equilibrium. He’d been meaning to get it looked at since he’d flipped it after what had happened to Ratchet, but had never had the time.

All of a sudden he was right up in Javelin’s face, his visor just a foot or so away from hers. But instead of screaming and raging, his voice was oddly quiet and cold.

“Do not lecture me on why this war started, Javelin. I know all too well about its causes.”

He ‘d seen it all start. And dealt with the aftermath.

“Here’s a lesson that’s going to shock you. We’re all expendable cogs. Everyone from you, to me, to even Optimus Prime. If our death ensures victory, then that is a price that I am willing to pay.”

He paused, stepping back to give some space.

“If you’re not willing to recognize that and be willing to pay that price, then you have no purpose being here.”

He turned back towards his desk, picking it up and rearranging the datapads on it.

“You’re dismissed.”