Ep. 1 - The Midnight Crew - Closed
Sept 25, 2013 15:17:41 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Sept 25, 2013 15:17:41 GMT -5
Set the evening of “Guns and Horses!”
Starscream stood on the flight deck of the Nemesis and wondered if he was doing the right thing.
Not the morally right thing. That was not something he took any real pains to concern himself with. The right thing tactically-speaking. Many of his short–term ploys had blown up in his face with distressing frequency recently. Or blown off his arm. Or beaten him half to death.
Not among his finest moments.
And so now he was wary. Very wary. Who could he trust. Well, that question was easy enough to answer - no one. Then who could he persuade himself to take into his confidence for as long as it took to further his own ends?
That was the real question. And it needed answering, fast.
He rattled his claws together behind his back in agitation. His mind raced. Two Decepticons, perhaps. Maybe three in a pinch if he kept his blaster idling. None of the Vehicons, of course. He could order them, he could command them, but ultimately he knew that for most of the drones the Decepticon war machine began and ended with Megatron. A bitter truth to acknowledge.
So, where did that leave him?
Standing here on the top of the Nemesis weighing his options, for starters.
Starscream scowled and paced a few strides. The Nemesis droned beneath his feet, its armoured deck rumbling with the pulse of the engines as they propelled the warship through the night time sky. Moonlight gleamed off the choppy water of the Pacific Ocean miles below. Wispy, tattered clouds drifted beneath the ship. They were miles up, far beyond the visual range of any vessels plying the ocean. The air was thin and bitterly cold. The warship cruised on minimal power, manned by a skeletal crew. The midnight crew.
At the edge of the deck Starscream stopped. He tapped his foot restlessly and glared down through the clouds.
Two Decepticons. Hm.
He focused his mind on one of them.
Not long ago he had thrown his authority around and seen to it that Jetfire had been prioritized on the list of those in need of repair. He had blathered some form of justification for the swap, although it had proven unnecessary - the Vehicon drones were relatively simple to fix and maintain, and casualties during the last encounter with the Autobots had been light. Getting the old mech pushed to the head of the repair list had been painless enough.
It could now prove useful. Old and cumbersome he may be, but Jetfire's mind was still sharp. It was a database of information. It could make him tedious to listen to at times. Starscream knew that all too well.
Hm...
It would be risky. But the ship had been damaged, torn apart, and Starscream was the only one who it existed. And where it had been scattered. He could reveal but a scrap of it at his leisure, and leave the rest an ancient secret, long crumpled and buried into the rock crust of this miserable planet.
His ancient secret. And his alone.
Starscream pensively scratched his claws together. He opened his internal comm.
"Jetfire, he growled. "Are you online? Meet me at the flight desk if you are. I've something to discuss with you."
Starscream stood on the flight deck of the Nemesis and wondered if he was doing the right thing.
Not the morally right thing. That was not something he took any real pains to concern himself with. The right thing tactically-speaking. Many of his short–term ploys had blown up in his face with distressing frequency recently. Or blown off his arm. Or beaten him half to death.
Not among his finest moments.
And so now he was wary. Very wary. Who could he trust. Well, that question was easy enough to answer - no one. Then who could he persuade himself to take into his confidence for as long as it took to further his own ends?
That was the real question. And it needed answering, fast.
He rattled his claws together behind his back in agitation. His mind raced. Two Decepticons, perhaps. Maybe three in a pinch if he kept his blaster idling. None of the Vehicons, of course. He could order them, he could command them, but ultimately he knew that for most of the drones the Decepticon war machine began and ended with Megatron. A bitter truth to acknowledge.
So, where did that leave him?
Standing here on the top of the Nemesis weighing his options, for starters.
Starscream scowled and paced a few strides. The Nemesis droned beneath his feet, its armoured deck rumbling with the pulse of the engines as they propelled the warship through the night time sky. Moonlight gleamed off the choppy water of the Pacific Ocean miles below. Wispy, tattered clouds drifted beneath the ship. They were miles up, far beyond the visual range of any vessels plying the ocean. The air was thin and bitterly cold. The warship cruised on minimal power, manned by a skeletal crew. The midnight crew.
At the edge of the deck Starscream stopped. He tapped his foot restlessly and glared down through the clouds.
Two Decepticons. Hm.
He focused his mind on one of them.
Not long ago he had thrown his authority around and seen to it that Jetfire had been prioritized on the list of those in need of repair. He had blathered some form of justification for the swap, although it had proven unnecessary - the Vehicon drones were relatively simple to fix and maintain, and casualties during the last encounter with the Autobots had been light. Getting the old mech pushed to the head of the repair list had been painless enough.
It could now prove useful. Old and cumbersome he may be, but Jetfire's mind was still sharp. It was a database of information. It could make him tedious to listen to at times. Starscream knew that all too well.
Hm...
It would be risky. But the ship had been damaged, torn apart, and Starscream was the only one who it existed. And where it had been scattered. He could reveal but a scrap of it at his leisure, and leave the rest an ancient secret, long crumpled and buried into the rock crust of this miserable planet.
His ancient secret. And his alone.
Starscream pensively scratched his claws together. He opened his internal comm.
"Jetfire, he growled. "Are you online? Meet me at the flight desk if you are. I've something to discuss with you."