Trypticon Troop Quarters

This is the barracks area where Decepticon troops spend their time in between operations. To the east is a training area for combat, to the west is a well-equipped weaponry rack, and against the far wall is a holoviewer displaying the troop missions and rankings. Assorted Decepticons are here joking with each other, grumbling about the Autobots, boasting about their abilities, or simply resting.

Contents:

Catechism

Forge <F>

Sunflare's Starbase

Astrotrain's Room <AR>

Swindle's Storeroom

Breakdown's Security Room(#3351 OVeM)

Reflector's Dark Room <RDR>

Vertigo's Quarter <VQ>

Wildrider's Hall of Insanity <WH>

Octane's Refuel Emporium <ORE>

Obvious exits:

West <W> leads to Trypticon Access Corridor.

East <E> leads to Trypticon Training Room.

Fleet has quarters here. Really! They just don't have an actual object built for them, because it would be pretty pointless for Fleet to build an object to RP with himself in. But they're here, and Fleet is /not/ in them. Instead he's seated at one of the terminals, looking over his upcoming watch rotation.

And who will watch the watchmen? Apparently Catechism for the moment, because she walks over behind Fleet to watch over his shoulder. Doesn't look like he's reviewing the jet catalogue today. Oh well. As an afterthought, she greets, "Good day, eh?"

"Well, it's a day, and I'm not dead, so I guess it's good," Fleet replies, glancing up at the gray-and-blue Conehead now hovering over his shoulder. He taps his fingers against the edge of the console a few times. "Y'need something, Catechism?"

Catechism doesn't need anything per se. However, she's a - flock, gaggle, pack, whatever one wants to call it - social creature, being built to work in groups as many Seekers are. So if she's going to poke around while off-duty, she'd rather poke around in the vicinity of another Decepticon, preferably a Seeker. She's not picky enough to specify a Seeker of her own variant; they're just too darn rare. Thus Catechism shrugs and says, "Not really."

"Oooookay," answers Fleet. As a Seeker, he's also a social creature, but not really as much so as Catechism. He taps a few more keys and now pulls up a map of Earth, with various areas that can be highlighted to pull up associated information. Resources, defenses, that sort of thing.

Catechism looks at the maps. The use of them seems obvious to her, and in most cases, that'd mean she's wrong. She grins a little and asks, "Looking for places to hit?"

"Mmmm. In a general sort of way," answers Fleet. He glances up again at Catechism, tilting his head back just far enough to catch a glimpse of her from underneath his helm. "Mostly I'm just trying to make sure I know what's out there, what resources are where... the fastest way to run, when in comes to that, from various places. That sort of thing."

Catechism clasps her hands together, almost clapping, and rocks upwards on the tips of her feet. Fleet's wings make it just a tad tough to see the screen, after all. She comments cheerily, "Sounds useful. I've been looking at a bit of that stuff myself."

Catechism's been studying the best ways to run away? No, she was probably talking about the other stuff. "Ah, good," answers the yellow seeker before looking back at the map. "Any ideas, or anything of note?" he asks.

Hence "a bit of that stuff". Catechism doesn't pay much attention to the best way to run away, although she does pay a bit of attention to exit strategies. They do have to get home the stuff that they steal, after all. She raises a hand to her chin and comments, "Well, mainly the places that have the happy-fun electronic tend to have better militaries or alliances with countries that do."

'Happy-fun electronics.' Fleet tags that phrase for deletion as soon as this conversation is over, to keep it from hurting his processors further. "Well, that makes sense, doesn't it? After all, you can't really have a proper military without advanced electronics." All that scrap the humans did prior to the development of electronics, with horses and swords, or even just bullets-minus-electronics? That's not PROPER military.

And that completely explains why all the 'coolest' Transformers run around with swords. Mmm-hmm. She nods and adds, "But it makes stealing quality, to use the term loosely, electronics trickier. I wonder if it'd be more economic to just nab raw materials and have MSE make the parts from there."

But those are usually ENERGY swords and the like. Well, a lot of the time. And 'cool' doesn't necessarily equal 'proper military,' either. Fleet shrugs. "That's not our place to determine, Catechism. Besides, it may be more economic overall, but it's /faster/ to get the stuff pre-made. There are those among our kind not known for their patience, and some are fairly high ranked. Besides... what extra resources we expend on getting those electronics, we make up for in /other/ raids." It's a vicious cycle.

Catechism leans back and glances at a wall. What, Catechism question? She agrees, "Of course it isn't. If it was, we'd be assigned to that formally. Just tossing ideas around. If it means more raids, I'm happy enough to do it."

Fleet taps a key, bringing up more detailed information on a random country. Of course she is! But that reminds him... "You read the report on what happened on our last raid after you left, didn't you? On who showed up?" he asks.

"Yeah, of course," she answers unworriedly, as she doesn't really know who Defcon is. After all, this is the girl who spent an awful long time being clueless about Sweeps, and they're part of her own faction. "I'm glad that we got some supplies out the run and that you and Verdant made it out without much damage. Means the medics don't need to spend time fixing broken Seekers and we've got something to show for our efforts."

Fleet sighs heavily, taps a button, and brings up Defcon's file. "You don't know who he is either, do you?" he asks softly. Fleet managed to be well far and away from the front lines the /last/ time Defcon was in the metaphorical neighborhood, but was still familiar with his reputation. He gestures to the file and then looks up at Catechism expectantly.

Catechism tilts her head to one side questioningly. She asks slowly, suspicion in her voice, "Is this like that Sweep thing?" Why is it that that no one tells her about all these really big deals until six weeks later, like Trypticon being alive and all that? Moreover, why does she miss these things in scanning the reports? Probably why she misses everything else.

"Catechism, what do you mean, 'like that Sweep thing'?" Fleet asked, honestly confused about what she's talking about and also vaguely annoyed. "Defcon's not offered to mentor me or anything, if that's what you're asking." Fleet's life may be weird, but it's not /that/ weird. "And if you're curious, our 'battle' went like this: I saw who it was, ordered Verdant away, fired at him, missed. He fired at me, missed, I ran away... he fired a slagging PLASMA WAVE after me and I outran it."

Catechism flicks her wing flaps idly and comments casually, "Like how, oh, no warned me about the Sweeps until long after I could have got myself splatted, if I wasn't too boring for the Sweeps to care about." More interesting than the drone she may be, but her 'scintillating personality' has its limits. "So Defcon's a toughie, huh?"

Fleet taps the file, indicating that Catechism should look herself, and even moves himself and his pretty pastel wings out of the way to better allow that. "Catechism, I did at least warn you not to let yourself get mistaken for Dirge, and I told you to make your own judgments. That you /didn't/ think it was worth looking up..." he shrugs. People get what they deserve, right? So if Catechism had gotten splatted because she didn't bother doing a little research on her own... "But yes, Defcon's a toughie. He's a bounty hunter, Catechism. Spends most of his time solo, hunting our kind, and has managed to survive doing this for a few millions of years. That right there should tell you something."

Catechism snorts and protests, "I read the reports, Fleet!" These things just don't sink in for her. Her impenetrable armour of optimism blocks out stuff like killer Autobots and creepy blue hovercrafts that don't like Seekers. It takes seeing these things for herself or having them drilled into her head for her to remember them. She scuffs at the floor with a foot and reads the report, as instructed by Schoolmaster Fleet. Bet he wishes he never took up special education right now! Her optics light up, and she voices, "Why do the Autobots attracts folks like that? Blue, hunts down things... what's so Autobot about that?"

"It's the ones that are most like us that are most dangerous," answers Fleet grimly. Then something hits him. The pastel Seeker looks suspiciously up at the conehead. "Catechism," he begins, his voice somewhat wary, "you're... not thinking about what I think you're thinking about, are you?"

"Probably not," Catechism answers truthfully, insofar as she perceives the truth, and adds cheerily, "You're a wingup!" as if that explains everything. She sighs and shakes her head. "The most dangerous and the most deluded. How do they go so wrong?"

Fleet's processors don't follow twisty enough paths to make sense of Catechism's combination of comments, but it is enough to assure him that no, there's no way Catechism could /possibly/ have been thinking what he thought she was thinking, because that would imply at least /some/ level of linear logic. In response to the Conehead's the standard-style just shrugs. "You've got me on that one." Autobot thought processes were, after all, even more alien to Fleet than Catechism thought processes.

Catechism was that thinking that Defcon sounds like the Autobot answer to a Sweep, just for the record. Blue, space-capable, ruthless hunter, doesn't much care for his fellow faction members, gun on his head... why, isn't that a funny coincidence? Now, if Defcon starts training Bumblebee as a bounty hunter, Catechism will officially file all this under the freaky file. At any rate, in response, she growls, "Stupid Autobots."

Fleet was thinking Catechism was thinking about trying to... help Defcon see the error of his ways. Just for the record. But her last comment is definitely one he can agree with. "Yeah. But... that doesn't stop them from being dangerous. And you can be over-all stupid, and still be clever."

Catechism nods. And one can be about average and still look as dumb as a sack of rocks. She admits highly grudgingly, "They wouldn't have lasted so long if they didn't have something going for them" She's not about it admit that the Decepticons might not be up to the task of universal domination. Obviously, it's the Autobots faults for not being dead yet.

No, of course not. Admitting such a thing would be beyond Catechism. Fleet sometimes harbors his doubts. While there's never a time when he believes the Autobots might win, there are times when he suspects that no one will win... and if Galvatron's last orders are a harbinger of things to come, the bad old days may be back. But for now Fleet just nods. "Right," he answers. "We just have to make sure we're aware of /what/ they've got going for them, so we can prepare for it as much as possible." Within the limits of their own low-ranking military-type nature, of course.

Catechism smiles brightly. For all that they're low-ranking military-types, they do get up to an awful lot of things on their own. "Yeah. Maybe I'll reread some of those reports." Not that she'll pick up anything that doesn't fit with her worldview, though, even if she does reread a dozen times.

And by now, Fleet has figured this out. But he still nods indulgently and returns to his own studies. "Good idea, Catechism," he says calmly.