Post by Deleted on Apr 19, 2016 9:08:06 GMT -5
She had lost track, now. Of just how many long Vorns had passed since the outbreak of this war. Since she’d had such grand ideals of peace and freedom from the castes. Since Cybertron actually seemed worth fighting for. Now, it was dying. All of it. Her ideals, Cybertron, and everyone around her. Though, if she looked back, she realized that she hadn’t started losing hope when Cybertron began to die. No, it was long before that. When the original members of Squad Zero had been decimated. Hotwire, her trusted second, had been the first. The left side of her faceplate twitched. The scar that ran its length served as a constant reminder of him. He never had forgiven himself for not being able to fully repair her optic. She’d never found fault with his work, though. Medical supplies were in short order and the tide of war never allowed them to stop and rest for long. It carried them one battle to the next, mission after mission, death after death. She had lost track of those too. The missions. Not the deaths. The deaths weighed far too heavily on her to be forgotten. She remembered their faceplates all too well, though, sometimes, the designations escaped her.
It was another set of deaths that she was on her way to report. The original members of Squad Zero had all either died or been cycled out into other squads. The replacements had ranged from warriors who had already seen too much to green members of the Last Sparked. The cycle had continued. Bots were killed, injured, or reassigned, thereby entering and later leaving her command. Despite that, she still maintained a high success rate and fairly low casualty rate. Perhaps that was why it was so easy to remember each one she’d failed to bring back alive. No matter how few she’d lost in the grand scheme of all the deaths on Cybertron, they were still too many.
As she neared the command center in her vehicle mode, she constructed her report. She had set out over an orn previously with a full roster. Over that orn, through the series of missions carried out and battles fought, their numbers had dwindled. Some had been killed in combat. Others by Decepticon traps. And still others had been lucky enough to merely be injured and in need of an evac to the nearest Autobot medic’s location. Finally, Xero was forced to return to Command, only herself and one other bot surviving. That bot had been reassigned for the present. Xero herself would make the report and express the need for replacements if Squad Zero were to continue on. Even if it did not and she was reassigned, that would be fine. It might be a nice change of pace to act as a soldier rather than a commander. Either way, she would do as ordered.
She was still a good distance from Command when she met the first ring of security. She was halted by a call over her comm, spoken in Autobot code. The voice was commanding but not unpleasant.
::Come to a halt and present your identification.::
Xero complied, putting on her breaks. It was late in the cycle. They had most likely just changed the guard not too long before. This put her at ease. If they were as calm as they seemed at the moment, there had been no nearby activity on this shift. With that in mind, she transformed, rising from her compact vehicle form to stand on two pedes once again.
::Special Operations Officer Xero of Squad Zero:: the stating of her name was followed by a memorized serial code of identification, ::Reporting in.::
There was a pause. The sentry did not come into view. She could only assume that he had a clear view of her, though, and was busy matching her data. After a surprisingly brief pause, she was addressed again.
::Continue, Officer::
Xero gave a nod and transformed again. As soon as the last plate settled into place, she was off again, zooming through the twilight. Her alt form carried her quickly across Cybertron’s dead surface. A short distance later, she was stopped again and the process repeated. This time, a sentry made himself visible long enough to get a scan. Upon verification, she was allowed through. It was only after a third ring of security that she was able to come near the field command center. She transformed and walked towards the entrance, the metallic sound of her footsteps alerting those who waited by the door to her arrival. As soon as she was within range, she was detained for a thorough check. She frowned as she complied. Security was tighter than usual. It was always heavy, simply because of the nature of the location. Though, Command’s location changed regularly to keep the Decepticons from targeting it. That in and of itself was a security measure. And three rings of identification request was normal as well. But the extra precautions taken were what set her on edge.
She entered the command center, optics sweeping the area. Fortunately, her left one had decided that functionality was in order, and remained only slightly dimmer than the other. Of course. As soon as she was in one of the safest places and Autobot could be. She strode forward confidently. She had done this enough to know where to go to report. She focused her processor on the task at hand. Give the report of what had occurred on the mission, name the fallen, request new soldiers. Wash, rinse, repeat.
The base around her was bustling with activity as usual. Officers, soldiers, and medics alike rushed to their next destination or stood together in pairs or groups, sharing the latest occurrences of the war. Xero passed them without a word, occasionally returning a nod or lifted hand. She turned quickly down a hall, down the too-often traveled route to the only sometimes occupied, sparse offices of the commanders. Yet again, to face whatever superior might be present and able to take her report so that she could move on and reenter the battlefield. Her expression tightened. It seemed so pointless. Her spark was no longer in this. It was just motions. The fighting, the reports, all of it. Just what she did because it was all she knew how to do. A soldier who had once had a cause and not had no hope.
She came to a halt when she reached the offices. All of the doors of the occupied offices were shut, which meant no one was currently available to speak. The lights above the doors marked which were occupied and which weren’t. Xero vented softly, standing against one of the walls. She would wait a while, as was required, for an officer to be made available. Part of her was glad for the brief moment of stillness.