[ti]Ep 2.5[/ti]Reaffirmation [Closed]
Apr 5, 2019 18:58:49 GMT -5
Post by Optimus Prime on Apr 5, 2019 18:58:49 GMT -5
Episode 2.5 | Week 4 | Day 7
Map
The Truce.
It was set up to be a potential boon, a great gift... the threatening presence of MECH becoming a unifying force that would hold the Decepticons at bay. No conflict for mines, no fear of Decepticon attacks against human bases as they raided military supplies for their own Space Bridge or other projects... A conjoined effort where they merged all the data obtained on their common foe, to help nullify it and remove Cybertronian technology and the bodies of the fallen from their control. Clean, simple, elegant... but it hinged greatly on the Autobots finding an untapped mine to claim as their own, seizing a large stockpile of the priceless fuel. It would change so much if they could gain this one upper hand; dig their fingers into one good grace upon landing on this remote world...
But... ambition and ideals, can only paint wants and hopes.
They did not always create reality.
No progress had been made against MECH. Attempts to raid a facility were all met with failure or diversions. It was as if the humans were two steps ahead, teasing, baiting, and even with the Decepticon's aid it simply wasn't going anywhere. Potentially... the other faction was simply not putting effort behind the goal. Sitting back, waiting, watching... harvesting their fuel uncontested as the Autobots scrabbled to find their own stability. The Truce dictated they had to halt their weapon advancements, which appeared to be true on surface level due to the lack of human warehouses being directly attacked, but... what lay within the bowels of the Nemesis was a grand mystery.
Optimus was not so foolish as to believe they would uphold that arrangement in full.
But he did expect his Autobots to follow the given directives.
A rescue turned scuffle turned chaos... It would have been bad enough if the lone Decepticon was able to be spoken to, to clear up loose ends and find an arrangement to make the altercation go away... but... two of the highest ranked Decepticons happened to be present. Laying witness, trying to get their soldier back... being denied and watching as one of their own was taken away. It didn’t matter if said individual reached out for help later on, opting to change Factions, when up to that point it had been apparent he couldn’t express as much in his injured state.
Now... they were tasked to reaffirm the Truce and make it strong once again.
Or dissolve it.
Optimus expressed his desire to speak to Megatron to find out which way this would fall, yet... unlike the first time this sort of meeting was put together, the Warlord was suspiciously absent. He did not speak to him through communication relays, nor did he actively try to put together the meeting details as he had done previously. Arrangements on firearms were left to open air, and things were mostly... silent... save for Starscream's involvement.
The Seeker was deadly, crafty, and not above working behind his 'master's' will. While Megatron often succumbed to pride and ego, wanting the Prime to witness and face the downfall of his team instead of simply being rid of the leader when convenient... Starscream was much more cutting. To know that he was the one to orchestrate this was not particularly settling well with him. Did Megatron know of this, and simply had more important things to contend with, perhaps even whatever TRULY inspired the Truce at the onset? Or was his Second in Command working outside of his influence and doing something on his own accord?
Time would tell.
-
Haven's Control Room was large, a bank of computers off to the left side holding the controls to the Ground Bridge, while the right held a myriad of varied paths that wove through the extensive mines and chambers that composed Haven's structure. Some were polished and refined, clad in metal, while others were carved out of ragged rock. At the terminal to the left, a Vehicon stood, plucking through some updates to the system, a couple reference points pulled up on the screen indicating some geographical location. He looked over as they exited the Bridge, before turning fully and offering a salute to the Prime as he walked past, curiously eyeing the five others who followed.
Heavy footfalls, a double impact rumble accented by the strides of those who took heel... The Decepticon trooper eased around the rock to somewhat eye them, helm crooking curiously to the side, before he turned back and continued to work, typing quickly upon the terminal. Optimus paid no mind to the individual's interest, tired eyes settling upon the varied paths that were to be chosen from. No words would need to be spoken; nothing more needed to be said to his team. At this point, their directives would have already been made clear, spelt out previously in the Omega Outpost. Because of this, Optimus' hand rose in a quiet indication to the North exit, clad in metal and well used. With this, two would fissure off from the group towards the Bar and general recreational area.
This is where Patch and Carbine's directive would begin.
With the two on their way, Optimus would turn to the right, a new path taken to the East. Rough hewn rock, a ragged hallway cored out of earth and stone... it lead directly to a cleaner hallway and a large hatch door that held glyphs indicating storage upon its surface. Another indication, another silent motion of the wrist, and two more individuals' jobs were then beginning.
Bluestreak and Skystone's task was set in place.
This left Optimus with Javelin.
This disease... it... it was something that required research and care. Time would need to be devoted to it to clear up all of the hanging questions, and even more so to clean up what mess it did create and to repair Bumblebee properly. Because of this, Ratchet was not going to be forced to come on this little errand. As much as his presence was immensely valued, his particular skills did not directly translate to the situation at hand. Then again, the individual plucked nearly at random to fill his position didn’t have any relatable skills to fill the role either. She had not served in great political meetings, nor initiated in contract work or negotiations... but... Optimus did not necessarily need such things, as his own skills comfortably blanketed those topics with ease.
The Prime could work a contract and agreement aggressively in his favor, and look for loopholes that could be used against them. He did so once already the first time the Truce was put into play, and he would do so again now that it had to be rectified to cover recent events that threatened its continued existence. Why he actually wanted another individual with him, however, was to look out for the things he could not see while working. Someone agile of mind and able to look for tells and threats that lay beneath what was presented openly. Able to pick up on possible social quirks or hostile body language.
So he picked Javelin.
Optimus' purposeful gait slowed a moment to a gradual halt.
In that moment, he looked tired.
Scrapes and burrs, charred paint and flecks of silver. While the damage to the side of his helm had been repaired, it had not been painted yet. Scorch marks corrupting blue and silver in blistered patches. But as bad as the side of his helm and face may have looked, the eye itself appeared to be functional again. Illuminated, the myriad of small rings and gears twitching as the lens focused, but... complex repairs such as an optic could take time to calibrate, and because of this when he lifted his helm to peer up the hallway, he wasn’t entirely certain WHO he saw at first glance, until the wings and generic structure came into focus, the individual standing directly in front of the Conference Room.
Starscream.
Bolstered annoyance, kindled irritation... While Optimus had halted a brief moment, a new fire simmered with his desire for answers. Because of this, he started into a purposeful gait towards the slender mech with shoulders rocked at a slight forward angle in his approach. He was mindful to not look too aggressive, he did not want to imply he was inciting violence due to his frustration, but he wanted it well known from the onset he was not playing passive here, and he was not going to roll over to whatever whim or ego pampering the Seeker would ask to keep the Truce rolling unobstructed.
As he neared, Optimus' authoritative voice cut into the silence, rolling out with a hollow baritone.
"Megatron is not present."
A very apparent observation, but it was not referring to just the hallway the trio were stationed within. Optimus spoke as if it were a blanket truth, for he was willing to wager much that Megatron was not simply waiting in the Conference Room despite implications that Starscream would pass on the messages he sent to organize the meeting. He knew the Warlord far too well, he recognized patterns and could somewhat predict to an extent... and this fell outside the norm into abnormality.
Starscream was up to his tricks.
Map
The Truce.
It was set up to be a potential boon, a great gift... the threatening presence of MECH becoming a unifying force that would hold the Decepticons at bay. No conflict for mines, no fear of Decepticon attacks against human bases as they raided military supplies for their own Space Bridge or other projects... A conjoined effort where they merged all the data obtained on their common foe, to help nullify it and remove Cybertronian technology and the bodies of the fallen from their control. Clean, simple, elegant... but it hinged greatly on the Autobots finding an untapped mine to claim as their own, seizing a large stockpile of the priceless fuel. It would change so much if they could gain this one upper hand; dig their fingers into one good grace upon landing on this remote world...
But... ambition and ideals, can only paint wants and hopes.
They did not always create reality.
No progress had been made against MECH. Attempts to raid a facility were all met with failure or diversions. It was as if the humans were two steps ahead, teasing, baiting, and even with the Decepticon's aid it simply wasn't going anywhere. Potentially... the other faction was simply not putting effort behind the goal. Sitting back, waiting, watching... harvesting their fuel uncontested as the Autobots scrabbled to find their own stability. The Truce dictated they had to halt their weapon advancements, which appeared to be true on surface level due to the lack of human warehouses being directly attacked, but... what lay within the bowels of the Nemesis was a grand mystery.
Optimus was not so foolish as to believe they would uphold that arrangement in full.
But he did expect his Autobots to follow the given directives.
A rescue turned scuffle turned chaos... It would have been bad enough if the lone Decepticon was able to be spoken to, to clear up loose ends and find an arrangement to make the altercation go away... but... two of the highest ranked Decepticons happened to be present. Laying witness, trying to get their soldier back... being denied and watching as one of their own was taken away. It didn’t matter if said individual reached out for help later on, opting to change Factions, when up to that point it had been apparent he couldn’t express as much in his injured state.
Now... they were tasked to reaffirm the Truce and make it strong once again.
Or dissolve it.
Optimus expressed his desire to speak to Megatron to find out which way this would fall, yet... unlike the first time this sort of meeting was put together, the Warlord was suspiciously absent. He did not speak to him through communication relays, nor did he actively try to put together the meeting details as he had done previously. Arrangements on firearms were left to open air, and things were mostly... silent... save for Starscream's involvement.
The Seeker was deadly, crafty, and not above working behind his 'master's' will. While Megatron often succumbed to pride and ego, wanting the Prime to witness and face the downfall of his team instead of simply being rid of the leader when convenient... Starscream was much more cutting. To know that he was the one to orchestrate this was not particularly settling well with him. Did Megatron know of this, and simply had more important things to contend with, perhaps even whatever TRULY inspired the Truce at the onset? Or was his Second in Command working outside of his influence and doing something on his own accord?
Time would tell.
-
Haven's Control Room was large, a bank of computers off to the left side holding the controls to the Ground Bridge, while the right held a myriad of varied paths that wove through the extensive mines and chambers that composed Haven's structure. Some were polished and refined, clad in metal, while others were carved out of ragged rock. At the terminal to the left, a Vehicon stood, plucking through some updates to the system, a couple reference points pulled up on the screen indicating some geographical location. He looked over as they exited the Bridge, before turning fully and offering a salute to the Prime as he walked past, curiously eyeing the five others who followed.
Heavy footfalls, a double impact rumble accented by the strides of those who took heel... The Decepticon trooper eased around the rock to somewhat eye them, helm crooking curiously to the side, before he turned back and continued to work, typing quickly upon the terminal. Optimus paid no mind to the individual's interest, tired eyes settling upon the varied paths that were to be chosen from. No words would need to be spoken; nothing more needed to be said to his team. At this point, their directives would have already been made clear, spelt out previously in the Omega Outpost. Because of this, Optimus' hand rose in a quiet indication to the North exit, clad in metal and well used. With this, two would fissure off from the group towards the Bar and general recreational area.
This is where Patch and Carbine's directive would begin.
With the two on their way, Optimus would turn to the right, a new path taken to the East. Rough hewn rock, a ragged hallway cored out of earth and stone... it lead directly to a cleaner hallway and a large hatch door that held glyphs indicating storage upon its surface. Another indication, another silent motion of the wrist, and two more individuals' jobs were then beginning.
Bluestreak and Skystone's task was set in place.
This left Optimus with Javelin.
This disease... it... it was something that required research and care. Time would need to be devoted to it to clear up all of the hanging questions, and even more so to clean up what mess it did create and to repair Bumblebee properly. Because of this, Ratchet was not going to be forced to come on this little errand. As much as his presence was immensely valued, his particular skills did not directly translate to the situation at hand. Then again, the individual plucked nearly at random to fill his position didn’t have any relatable skills to fill the role either. She had not served in great political meetings, nor initiated in contract work or negotiations... but... Optimus did not necessarily need such things, as his own skills comfortably blanketed those topics with ease.
The Prime could work a contract and agreement aggressively in his favor, and look for loopholes that could be used against them. He did so once already the first time the Truce was put into play, and he would do so again now that it had to be rectified to cover recent events that threatened its continued existence. Why he actually wanted another individual with him, however, was to look out for the things he could not see while working. Someone agile of mind and able to look for tells and threats that lay beneath what was presented openly. Able to pick up on possible social quirks or hostile body language.
So he picked Javelin.
Optimus' purposeful gait slowed a moment to a gradual halt.
In that moment, he looked tired.
Scrapes and burrs, charred paint and flecks of silver. While the damage to the side of his helm had been repaired, it had not been painted yet. Scorch marks corrupting blue and silver in blistered patches. But as bad as the side of his helm and face may have looked, the eye itself appeared to be functional again. Illuminated, the myriad of small rings and gears twitching as the lens focused, but... complex repairs such as an optic could take time to calibrate, and because of this when he lifted his helm to peer up the hallway, he wasn’t entirely certain WHO he saw at first glance, until the wings and generic structure came into focus, the individual standing directly in front of the Conference Room.
Starscream.
Bolstered annoyance, kindled irritation... While Optimus had halted a brief moment, a new fire simmered with his desire for answers. Because of this, he started into a purposeful gait towards the slender mech with shoulders rocked at a slight forward angle in his approach. He was mindful to not look too aggressive, he did not want to imply he was inciting violence due to his frustration, but he wanted it well known from the onset he was not playing passive here, and he was not going to roll over to whatever whim or ego pampering the Seeker would ask to keep the Truce rolling unobstructed.
As he neared, Optimus' authoritative voice cut into the silence, rolling out with a hollow baritone.
"Megatron is not present."
A very apparent observation, but it was not referring to just the hallway the trio were stationed within. Optimus spoke as if it were a blanket truth, for he was willing to wager much that Megatron was not simply waiting in the Conference Room despite implications that Starscream would pass on the messages he sent to organize the meeting. He knew the Warlord far too well, he recognized patterns and could somewhat predict to an extent... and this fell outside the norm into abnormality.
Starscream was up to his tricks.