IC Time on Earth: Mon Jul 22 08:39:44 2024

NCC Central Hub

This is the very center of New Crystal City, and serves as the gateway to the other areas of the base. A feeling of claustrophobia exists here despite the fact that this part of the city is open to the air. Now in Battle Station Mode, the Central Hub has far less buildings than usual, as many have transformed themselves into huge laser defense cannons and missile turrets. There are very few positions one can take to hide from the weapons without being forced to take evasive action. The roadways have laser point-defense systems protecting them. The important buildings, including the medical ward and the command center now have a huge layer of thick metal protecting them, covering up the facilities and protecting them from harm.

Contents:

Comcast

Fulcrum

Reflector

Trypticon <T>

Decepticon Sensor #1792

The Powerbase

Obvious exits:

North <N> leads to Mount R'Lyeh.

Northeast <NE> leads to NCC Dungeon.

Northwest <NW> leads to NCC Medical Ward.

South <S> leads to NCC Coastline.

Southeast <SE> leads to NCC Residential Plaza.

Southwest <SW> leads to NCC Spaceport.

East <E> leads to NCC Arena.

West <W> leads to NCC Central Command.

Fly <Up>

Comcast bahs. "Well, I know /that/. It is a matter I need to address, but I'm not simply going to seek out a battle. That would be reckless."

<OOC> Comcast greets Fleet. At the moment it's me and Fulcrum chatting while a squadron of seekers (the second best squadron EVAR) are lugging about some machinery.

<OOC> Comcast says, "Reflector is eating cake."

Fulcrum nods. "No doubt an opportunity will arise soon enough. We cannot assume our raids will go as smoothly as they have been. The humans and Autobots will increase their capacity for interception until we are once more harried at every turn. Your chance will come."

Reflector has disconnected.

"And THAT, my friend, is why I mess with the Autobots." Comcast says confidently. "The humans may get on with them now, but it is not in their nature to outright trust that which is different to them. They may choose to support them because the Autobots are protecting them, but those misunderstandings and concerns are there. The time will come when the Autobots act in a manner not entirely desirable to the humans, and then I shall have my day. Imagine fighting an opponent who no longer has the resources and support of this planet's dominant native species." Comcast's optics beam optimistically, almost in joy, at the prospect.

Fleet flies in for a landing, returning from his latest round of scoutings. He touches down lightly and scans the area, quickly spotting the seeker working crew. He flicks his left wing slightly out of nervousness. While he normally isn't bothered by the idea of doing menial labor, he was a bit worn after such an extended flight.

Fulcrum almost chuckles. "They would be forced to raid for Energon, as we do. Making their situation worse" he considers that for a while. That would be pretty good.

Comcast is unnerved as Fulcrum once again chuckles(!) though he is getting used to the sound.. to the point of actually being able to identify it. "Not to mention for every other item they might need. And encountering us is going to be difficult wihtout appropriate access to repair facilities, or when the humans attempt to stop the Autobots from stopping US from attacking their own resources."

Fulcrum shrugs. "They would adapt" he replies pessimistically. "They would have to move their base of operations to a more easily defendable position, but they are still Cybertronians. The humans would become little more than a nuiciance, as they are to us."

Fleet decides to cautiously approach the two familiar faces. Well, granted, there was a certain degree of resemblance one seeker to the next, anyway, so much so that if you've met one, all others would be at least somewhat familiar, but in this case we're talking about a bearded green and an all-red seeker. Still he doesn't say anything yet, a little reluctant to draw attention to himself after the events of a few days ago.

"Oh, sure, they would." Comcast says. "But the demoralization of their precious humans shunning them would be just too beautiful." Comcast turns to the approaching Fleet. "So, did anything else happen after my unfortunate departure yesterday?" He asks the yellow one.

The yellow one shakes his head, suppressing an electronic sigh as he does so. "Not really. The Autobot left, and Catechism and I finished watching their... 'air show.' Then we left." Boring, and a little embarrassing, but Fleet was in no way stupid enough to start an unnecessary fight on enemy turf, when the enemy knew they were there and there was no real objective beyond satisfying their curiosity, anyway.

Fulcrum turns to regard Fleet with his usual frown. "Good" he states flatly. "I was worried that effort would have to be expended repairing you for no material gain."

Comcast doesn't comment on Fulcrum's demeanour, but decides to subtly remind him about how intel on the enemy is not a substantial object, but it is something worth obtainting. "Did you learn anything about the enemy's aircraft and fighting styles?" He asks.

Fleet takes a long moment to consider Comcast's question. "While it was interesting to see their range of aircraft, I have my doubts that the formations that were used there are the ones they'd use in combat. They didn't appear very... practical, mostly decorative." Of course, he himself incorporated a good deal of apparently decorative maneuvers into his own battles, often to good effect, but he doubted that a being who controlled a craft rather than one who was the craft itself would have the same level of instinct when it came to that.

Fulcrum gives Comcast a look that clearly says 'See? told you so'. No resources gathered, and the only information was on 'decorative' aircraft.

Comcast grunts. Thanks a /lot/ Fleet. "Oh, fine. At least we vexed that Autobot." He says, nearly sulking about it.

Fleet looks from red to green, green to red, a little confused by the silent cues. There was something *wrong* with going out to see an enemy's range of aircraft in action, decorative though it may be? On the other hand, he shouldn't be surprised that the others lacked the appreciation of aerial dance that he had, whatever these humans might call it. Finally he adds, "Those were actual fighting craft... I looked up elsewhere, they're unarmed at shows, but kept in a condition so that they can quickly be returned to service. And, erm, there were a few demonstration craft, some of their newest planes."

Fulcrum huhs. No doubt five minutes on the human's Intarweb would have netted more information. "Well, conflict was avoided" he drones. "And our recent raids have been successful. Perhaps it would be better to file this under "recreational activities" than any sort of information gathering."

Comcast looks a bit more relieved at that. "Indeed. I'll need a report from you, not only on where the human's current technological level is, but their recent past in terms of aircraft. It will help in establishing where they progressing in a technological means." Sure, it was recreational, but that doesn't mean that any information they gain doesn't count. Besides, isn't the only purpose of the intarweb to host arguments between humans about who is having pretend elf sex with who on some of their own recreational activities?

Fleet flicks a wing and shrugs. He would have considered it a recreational activity, anyway, but poor Comcast had seem so disappointed by that that he had felt obligated to try and put a different spin on it. He nods his head, though not relishing the thought of more paperwork, and answers, "All right. It'll be done shortly."

Comcast doesn't care what it was, he is trying to help Fleet out and save him from a scowl from Fulcrum! RUN! FLEE THE SCOWL!

Fulcrum doesn't scowl.. THIS TIME. He sees the whole thing as a bit of a waste of time than anything else. "Comcast.. have you been breifed on precisely what Lord Galvatron's plan entails? It would be helpful when planning raids to know exactly what supplies we will need."

Comcast's turn to scowl now. "Lord Galvatron.. is difficult to get ahold of. The matter of our Pi configuration of energon, turning it into a weapon, and it's subsequent misunderstanding from Commander Cyclonus, has made matters difficult with them. I know only what you know - they are planning to design a warfleet. You would know what is required for that more than I. But even then.. I don't recommend acquiring anything yet, except perhaps energon, something we always need. I believe Galvatron has some vast plans to gain what we need."

"The only problem there is that he left us standing orders to raid for energon _and_ supplies. We're ignoring half his order if we only raid for energon. I thought metals would be a good idea, at least, but what else is beyond me." Fleet has no clue concerning this 'Pi' stuff, and decides to leave that to those who did.

Comcast has disconnected.

Ahh yes. PI. Fulcrum has put the project aside for now, since it seemed to generate so much antipathy from his commanders. But one day.. one day, all the Autobots will find themselves with PI in their faces! "Fleet is right. Materials are needed. And if they are not used for Lord Galvatron's upcomming offensive." Fulcrum looks back at the yellow Seeker as Comcast leaves, or flickers out of existance.. animation error, possibly? "I suggest our next target be metal of a higher tensile strength."

"That thought had occurred to me, and I have been keeping an eye out for that sort of thing while scouting." The yellow seeker shuffles a bit, one foot to the other, without realizing he's doing so. "Unfortunately, the more useful the metal, the more carefully it's guarded. Those raids are going to be trickier." He pauses again, shrugs a wing, and adds, "But then, we all knew it was going to get to that point."

Fulcrum nods. "We will have to chance it. The materials must be gathered. We cannot turn away because it is difficult." He ponders that for a while. "Overwhelming force would be good, however."

Fleet chuckles softly. "It would be, yes. Sometimes the trick is finding others to accompany on a raid. I realize I've got to go, but I'm not stupid enough to go it alone."

"Unity is strength" Fulcrum agrees. "A maxim the Constructicons embody best, though it is no less true of Seekers. Our ability to make a fast egress should ensure at least some resources are gained from each raid." Nevermind that he's inexplicably sub-sonic.

On the other hand, speed has always been Fleet's strong point. No surprise there, given his name. Either way, he could hardly argue with Fulcrum's last statement, even if his first time out of the hanger on Earth had shown that this wasn't *always* the case. "Well, right," he says, not being in a mood to intone mottos himself. "Sum of parts and all, but lately it feels like parts are kind of scarce." He shrugs a wing. "Maybe I'm still just not used to the way things operate here on Earth."

Fulcrum glances around at the Seekers, who have managed to haul the forge unit completely across the square. "We are... fractured," Fulcrum admits, his customary frown deepening. "The Sweeps have their own, secret orders and patrols. The Constructicons seem always busy with some project or another. The other gestalt teams are.. difficult to work with. It is left to us, as usual, to maintain a flow of supplies, and to safeguard the city." Fulcrum shrugs.

Fleet flicks a wing again. He doesn't have much to say on any fracturing. At least, he didn't think he did, but as he muses on the matter, he murmurs, "Really, if all the pieces-parts just accepted that they had different roles to play and that all the roles were important, instead of bickering about whose position was superior, it wouldn't be a fracture. It would just be the different parts doing their bit for the greater whole..." Flee is looking off to the distance as he says this, the expression on his face giving one the idea that he's more thinking out loud than actually attempting to converse. The yellow seeker was familiar with his strengths (his speed and agility) and his weaknesses (his frailty and cowardice), but sometimes didn't know where on that scale to place his thoughtfulness, which didn't always seem particularly useful in a Mil-Ops grunt.

Fulcrum blinks. "Perhaps" he mutters, believing that has as much chance of happening as the war suddenly ending and everyone sitting around with energon tea and crumpets. "But that is a matter for High Command."

Fleet brings his attention back to the world in front of him with a quick shake of his head, a slight, sly smile dancing only at the corners of his mouth. "Of course. My part is only to worry about scouting and raiding, after all." Besides, he doesn't mind the Sweeps being off on their own secret missions and orders, if that's what it takes to keep Geist from stalking him. He then makes a face. "Which I suppose I ought to be getting back to, once I've refueled. I've been watching a refinery on the continent the natives call 'Asia' that looks promising."

"And I should set up the forge unit" Fulcrum replies. "Radio if you need assistance." The Blacksmith nods a goodbye, then trudges off after the complaining seeker squadron

Fulcrum has left.