[ti]Ep 2.5[/ti]Backlog [Dreadwing]
Mar 29, 2019 21:41:00 GMT -5
Post by Soundwave on Mar 29, 2019 21:41:00 GMT -5
Episode 2.5 | Week 3 | Day 1
Communication relays reestablished.
Through joint efforts, the ability to communicate with the global satellite system was now in effect once more. It was not a particularly difficult task all things considered, the chores that needed to be done to reaffirm the connections simple, but it had been timely. To help rectify this, Starscream stepped forth to assist to handle the physical changes needed to the orbital points, while Soundwave focused on the groundwork needed and updating systems. A toggle of a switch there, a tweak of coding here... entering the appropriate encrypted passwords to access from a new point instead of going through the Nemesis... once it was all said and done, the entire fleet of connections, both Cybertronian and human in fabrication, was at Soundwave's fingertips once more.
Backlogs, stored data... Exabytes of information that had built up and accumulated over the absence that needed to be gone through. A majority of it would all be useless. Human chatter, human cell phone data that needn't be a concern other than a select few individuals that were being singled out and cataloged. There were an abundance of new satellite map images to scour, looking for signs of Energon that lay dormant beneath the surface, while also keeping an eye out for remote MECH facilities, while paying extra attention to the maps corresponding with Nevada for the Omega Outpost.
Truce as there may be, a casual glance at logged data was not intentionally seeking out their outpost in the name of war.
Through all of this, was the Cybertronian collected information as well. Long distance relays, bounced data from the most remote of outposts that still functioned in the depths of space. Radio chatter along frequencies that were not encrypted and secure, calls from other alien civilizations that were not even remotely a part of their war or a consideration... Soundwave looked at everything he could sift his fingers through, almost obsessively so. While much was passed through great filters to decipher if it was deserving of a second more conscious second glance, there were bound to be some gems hidden in a sea of trash that had been collected in the weeks following the Nemesis' fall, and so care would be taken during the long game of 'catchup'.
This is what Soundwave was diving through.
The navy mech stood tall before the Control Room's terminal, sloping arms raised to place gingerly upon the keypad before him, while a single data cable spooled out from his chest to connect directly into the information that he sought. This computer system was mounted to the rockwork before him, recently rewired and reconfigured to be able to handle the new abundance of programs, fixed up and upgraded from the more primitive setup that had been there previously. While the monitor remained unchanged, and the keyboard itself was the same, the wires and ports that fed into the large machine behind it were shiny and new, holding only the briefest dusting across its surface from the constant in-construction state of the base.
The screen before Soundwave flicked and danced, satellite imagery changing like a morbidly fast flipbook. Each frame could barely be processed from a passing glance, the screen blurring from browns and grays, to green and blue, nighttime imagery pulling up to show darkness with flicking spackles of yellow light that looked almost like fireflies as they shuttered past and popped across the large monitor. Soundwave seemed transfixed upon the screen, the reflection dancing across the black visor as the first of many filters were in effect.