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Ark-19 - The Autobot HQ

The Ark-19 is a standard sized Ark class vessel. Standard size of course being massive, enough to easily accommodate an entire infiltration team for an indefinite amount of time. The ship features everything an Autobot needs for an extended duty assignment including armored fuel tanks, multiple crew quarters, labs, a training center, a full repair bay and a fully stocked armory. While not a dedicated war ship she can more then hold her own in a fight. While once again able to fly, the Ark-19 is still in need of major repairs.
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Ark-19 - Command Deck

Ironhide was loathe to admit it, but he kinda liked Earth. Unlike some worlds he'd been stationed on, the Humans were good folks, for the most part. Sure, they had a few bad circuits in the system, and they were far from perfect. But that just reminded him more of home.

Slag. He was gettin' all nostalgic. He was startin' to sound like ol' Kup. He wondered how the crotchety blue mech was doin' these days. He'd been partnered with the Kup way back when he was just a shiny new rookie, and Kup still had some of his original parts. That was a long, long time ago nowadays.

Things sure had changed since then. Cybertron lost. The once-proud Autobots scattered across the stars. And even someone as hard-aft as Ironhide could understand why most Autobots found themselves wonderin' why they were still fighting from time to time. But Ironhide never felt that way. He'd been one of the last to leave Cybertron in those final, terrible hours, and he'd seen too much destruction and death in the endless years since. Slag, just thinkin' about what those Decepticreeps had done to Lithone made his circuits sizzle. No, Ironhide knew fraggin' well why they kept fightin'.

An incoming distress call from Jazz brought the Autobot officer back to the present. Aw, slag. I shoulda never let that jive-talkin' fancyboy talk me inta this. It was too fraggin' risky, an' I knew it! Well. No time ta worry bout that now. Jazz needs backup. An' I know just the boys ta git that job done!

>>"Sideswipe! Sunstreaker! Look lively. Jazz needs backup. Orbital Bounce authorized. Get out there an' bust some heads!"<<

Ark-19 - Corridors

A broad smile made its way onto the crimson warrior’s face as he leaned in close to his twin’s audio sensors. He didn’t want any unnecessary leakage of his great plan to get out of the base. It had taken him to fully plan their escape from the mediocrity of base life, and by no means was he going to let anyone other than Sunny hear it.

“Okay, here’s what we do. We sneak into…”

Just as he was about to spill his brilliant plan the crotchety voice of that old codger, Ironhidecame over the comm. Shoulders slumped in a defeated gesture, Sideswipe’s head plunged. But it perked as he heard their temporary commander authorize an orbital bounce to help out Jazz. This opportunity could mean only one thing…..Jazz was having Con trouble and his only chance was he and Sunny.

Another smirk greeted the golden warrior as the comm. link closed. Sideswipe gripped his brother’s arm and began to tug at Sunny in order for him to follow to get to an area they could use to bounce out of the base

“Come on Sunny! We gotta save Jazz form those slaggers! Let’s go!”

Corridors

Sunstreaker wasn’t exactly pinning his hopes on Sideswipe’s grand plan. He expected something dangerous, only half thought out and would probably land them in the brig if it failed. Still, he would rather take the chance of punishment versus glory than stand around in the underwater base any longer. Despite his dislike and concern for corrosion from the toxic water just outside the vessel, he was going to bash his way through the hull out of pure boredom if something didn’t happen to break the monotony soon. Whatever Sideswipe had in mind would have to suffice.

Just as his brother began to speak he was interrupted by Ironhide. The annoying rustbucket was currently the source of much of Sunstreaker’s frustration. He let out a groan as soon as he heard his ridiculous voice. His mood improved rapidly when he heard what the Autobot commander said. A smirk spread over his face. ‘Finally, someone realized what a waste it is having me hiding in a giant puddle.’ He wasn’t entirely pleased to be getting sent out to save Jazz’s aft, but there would be Cons to fight. That was enough for him for the time being.

He quickly shook off his brother’s hold on his arm. “I know where the airlock is idiot; you don’t have to drag me.” It didn’t sound like it, but that was Sunstreaker’s version of being nice. Another Autobot would have gotten more of an audio receptor full for manhandling the yellow warrior, if not a boot in the aft. “And I could care less about Jazz. The stupid empty has practically gone native, what with all of the Earth music he listens to. Saving him is just a nice excuse to smash some con heads in.”

The two Autobots quickly made their way out of the base through the airlock and the disguised raft. While the orbital bounce could be done from the base directly, it was safer to do so outside where there was no risk of interference from the water. In a flash of blinding light, the two warriors were gone.

Repair Bay

Trailbreaker listened as Ratchet tinkered with his shoulder. The medic had actually made a good point, assuming he was right about the fake humans in the first place. If the inhabitants of this world were able to discover the existence of clones, they probably would eventually discover the existence of Cybertronians. And they probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between Autobots and Decepticons. All would be considered a threat, and that’s even more worrisome.

“That could still happen, regardless if you are right about the copies,” the black mech reasoned once Ratchet had finished fixing his shoulder. “These humans may not be as technologically advanced as us, but they aren’t completely unintelligent. If we’re not careful, we could still be discovered, if we haven’t been already.”

Trailbreaker then stood and moved his arm up and down and side to side. “Nice work, Ratchet. The kink's gone. Next time I won’t wait so long to come see you.”

Computer Labs – Diagnostics

Smokescreen began downloading the results of the system diagnostic to a portable data disk. He had just finished running it moments ago on the Ark-19's central computer to ensure that everything was functioning according to spec. The diversionary tactician knew he had wasted enough time watching human car racing and talking with his friend Wheeljack, who was still tinkering with one of his broken inventions somewhere in the labs. Ironhide didn’t like to be kept waiting and would want the detailed report sooner rather than later. And if that didn’t happen, Smokey would surely hear from his commander demanding to know what was taking so long on a simple diagnostic.

Within astroseconds the download was complete and Smokescreen ejected the data disk from the console. He stood, disk in hand, and headed for the door. "Catch ya later, Wheeljack," the red and blue mech said as he exited the labs.

Corridors

Smokescreen made his way through the ship heading for the command deck where Ironhide spent most of his time. Smokescreen liked the veteran mech even if he was a little strict with the infiltration protocols. A lot of the younger Autobots considered Ironhide to be an old relic, but Smokey knew better. Ironhide was as tough as they come and would never back down from a fight nor would he ever leave a fellow ‘bot behind. Smokescreen respected Ironhide greatly and considered him to not only be his commanding officer, but his friend, as well.

Command Deck

Smokescreen entered and peered around what was undoubtedly the very heart of the ship. It had been awhile since he was last up on the command deck, and Smokey had forgotten how intimidating it could be to a lower ranking Autobot like himself. His eyes finally found Ironhide sitting in his command chair appearing serious and focused on something. Smokey took a deep breath and carefully approached him.

"Commander, I have finished running the computer diagnostic you requested. All systems are running at optimal levels. The full report is here on this data disk," the racing expert said as he handed the disk to Ironhide. "Will there be anything else you need of me, sir?"

Repair Bay

Windcharger woke to the sound of metal on metal. It took a moment for his optics to focus on the source of the noise. There was Brawn with a big, mischevious grin on his face rapping on Windcharger's cranial module repeatedly. "Come on little buddy. We've got work to do." The macho mech finally stopped his assault on his friend's audio receptors.

Windcharger sat up with a smile. He generated a magnetic field and used it to push Brawn out of his way. "Who are you calling little?" he asked jokingly. The red minibot got up and did a quick test of his joints, finding them all working as well as the day he was assembled. Ratchet sure does fantastic work. Hopping off of the bench Windcharger headed for the door seeming more energetic than usual. "Let's go Brawn. Ironhide's waiting."

Together the two Autobots headed for the command center, Windcharger taking the lead in the conversation as usual. Brawn simply sighed and humoured his friend as he was peppered with questions about earth. Without a doubt, Brawn thought, Windcharger was one of the most excited to be here. Brawn liked the guy well enough, but he starting to grow tired of always having him around. What Brawn really wanted was a chance to kick some Decepticon exhaust ports. Missions with Windcharger usually felt like protoform-sitting.

Windcharger spoke all the way to the command center with Brawn responding mostly mono-syllabically. For all his chatter, Windcharger was a pretty funny 'bot heaping on the sarcasm. They entered the command center just as Windcharger was relating a funny story about a run in they'd had with Skywarp back on Cybertron, which got a genuine guffaw out of Brawn. They shuffled in and upon seeing Ironhide and Smokescreen, Brawn gave Windcharger a nudge and snapped to attention. Windcharger stopped laughing and followed suit.

"Brawn and Windcharger reporting for duty," Brawn spoke with an air of authority. He never let anyone speak for him, one of Brawn's charms that annoyed Windcharger. Often Windcharger referred to Brawn as Bluster 'Bot behind his back. The brawny fellow had no idea how to censor himself, especially if he was in disagreement with another Autobot.

Windcharger quietly left Brawn's side and sat down at his work station and continued his work helping to collate data that Teletraan had collected on their current location. Brawn remained at attention waiting for Ironhide to acknowledge his presence. Windcharger looked at him and muttered quietly to himself, "Gimme a break Brawn. Just go do your work."

Command & Control - Ironhide

Ironhide grimaced as he looked over Smokescreen's report. As much as he would have preferred to simply skim over the major points of the immense document, the veteran knew all too well the importance of thoroughness. Astroseconds clicked by as he absorbed the data. As he did, he could almost feel Smokey's drive train grinding. The computer whiz didn't like sitting still, that much was for sure. Once he felt he had a comfortable grasp on the material, he waited a few extra astroseconds before responding. Just to rattle the kid a bit.

"So yer sure everything is runnin' up to spec?" he asked the analyst. Two months ago, Smokescreen had detected telltale signs of Cybertronian coding hidden in a Human Internet server. It had been an online Brokerage Firm, so they had surmised that the enemy might behind the recent worldwide economic destabilization the Humans had been experiencing. The primitive mess that was Earth's global communications network was a confusing thing, so it had proven impossible to trace. It had, however, raised alarming questions as to just how wide the Decepticons had spread their web on this little planet. And whether or not accessing the virus-ridden native network could compromise the Ark position or system integrity.

Smokescreen's report seemed to assure him that such a thing was nearly impossible. Their firewalls , encryption protocols and other defenses were intact, and the ship's systems were working at optimal levels. But as positive as that sounded, Ironhide wasn't so quick to dismiss the threat. He'd worked security far too long to believe in an impenetrable defense.

The cantankerous old mech looked over Smokey's shoulder, acknowledging Windcharger and Brawn with a nod. "Yer standin' here tellin' me that there ain't no chance of them intrudin' in our system from an outside terminal. Is that right? 'Cause if that's what yer sayin' (and yer sure of it), then I'm satisfied. If you got even a shred a doubt, you tell me now, or I swear ta Primus, Brawn here is gonna pitch you in the lake."

Computer Lab

Wheeljack was hunched over his work station, tools in each of his hands as he tinkered with his most recent invention. He had been trying to find a way to upgrade the fuel pumps of team mates, but was meeting with less then success. His first few prototypes all had some sort of regulation problem that either injected to much fuel to fast or to slow into the test drones systems. The new pump either overloaded from way to much fuel being building up, or to shut down after burning up to much fuel to quickly. He thought he had worked out the issues, but the most recent version of his fuel pump had seemed to work fine, but once the test drone transformed it could not regulate the fuel properly while the drone was in its alternate mode and began to suffer from the same issues as before. Some of the others thought it might be a lost cause, but Wheeljack wasn't ready to admit that.

"Perhaps if I reprogram the regulation circuits to a more standard process that way I can overcome the issue of injecting fuel to quickly." He muttered to himself as the vocalizers on either side of his head glowed as he spoke. "And if I recalibrate the pump mechanisms I might be able to get around the issue of fuel being injected to slowly." Wheeljack used his tools to make the changes and then sealed up the new prototype. "Now let's see if this works."

He picked up the pump and turned to the fresh test drone and placed it inside and activated the pump just to see if it worked alright. At first it seemed everything was fine, but then the pump locked up and ruptured, and fuel began leaking from drones chest cavity. Wheeljack sighed and removed the defective unit and cleaned up the mess. Maybe this was a lost cause, and there were other more promising projects he was working on that he should probably turn his attention to.

He was about to turn his attention to one of those projects when Ironhide came over the ships intercom, summoning Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Something was up and Wheeljack figured it would be best if he reported to the command deck in case he was needed. His projects were not of a pressing concern right now.

Command Deck
Wheeljack entered the command deck and saw that several of the others were there as well, he could also hear the communications feed from Sunstreaker and Sideswipe in the field. Wheeljack couldn't figure out if the situation was critical or not, but it did sound serious at least. He made his way over to where Ironhide was standing and nodded to Smokescreen.

"I heard you calling the brothers Ironhide, and thought I might be of some use."

Wheeljack waited for his commander to give him any orders.

Command Deck

Bumblebee was been sitting at this station on the command deck conducting a routine systems check of the ships security and stealth systems just to make sure there were no breeches at present. So far everything was in working order and no errors or breeches had taken place since the Autobot's had arrived. He had also been keeping an audio receptor turned to the communications system as information came back from Sideswipe's anSunstreaker's mission.

Once Smokescreen made an appearance the small Autobot rose from his seat and walked across the command deck to stand next to Ironhide as Smokescreen gave his report. He looked over when Brawn and Windcharger arrived and gave them a friendly smile and a nod of acknowledgment.

"Hey Ironhide, once your done with that report mind if I take a look to?"

Command Deck

Smokescreen waited patiently for Ironhide to finish reviewing the diagnostic report. The old mech was taking his time, for sure. He was always one to be thorough, and Smokey knew it. Smokey also knew that if he had to stand still much longer, he’d probably bust a fuel pump. How long does it take to look over a simple report? The red and blue Autobot thought just as Brawn and Windcharger entered the command deck. Smokescreen glanced at them with a nod and a smile and then returned his attention to his commander.

Astroseconds later, Ironhide finally addressed the diversionary tactician directly. Smokey expected the commander to say “good job” or “great work” and then send him on his way to his next assignment. Instead, the old ‘bot pressed Smokey further on the integrity of the ship’s computer system, questioning whether or not the firewalls would repel any outside intrusion 100%, and if the computer wiz had any doubts.

Smokescreen was taken aback slightly by Ironhide’s tough questions. He thought for a moment on how to respond. If he said he had no doubts and then a virus infected the Ark-19’s computer, compromising important data, Ironhide would probably do more than have Brawn throw him in the lake. He’d tear the red and blue ‘bot a new aft section first from which he could then spew more smoke. On the other hand, if he said that he did have doubts, then Ironhide would probably make him go back to the computer labs and continue working on how to improve the system, which would increase Smokey’s bordem levels even further.

"Yes, sir," Smokescreen began, "I am confident that our firewalls will repel any attempted intrusions from one of the infinite number of computer viruses that the humans have constructed. They are primitive programs at best and don’t stand a chance at breaking through our advanced system guards and protections. With that said, and as you well know, there is no such thing as a perfect system. I wish there were. It would make my job a lot simpler."

Smokescreen paused an astrosecond as he noticed Bumblebee standing next to him wanting to look at the report. Smokey smiled at the minibot before continuing. "However, if you remember a couple of months back, I detected a bit of Cybertronian code on that human mainframe. We suspected that the Decepticons had planted it there, but we were unable to determine the exact source. It seemed to act like a virus, which concerned me as I’m sure it did you, commander. There is a slight chance that if the enemy has modified a preexisting computer virus, or even created a new one utilizing Cybertronian code, that it could possibly find a way into our system. It’s still very unlikely, but it is a scenario that I have considered and have taken steps to prevent to the best of my ability. But there are still no guarantees. I can only continue looking for better ways to improve our system defenses."

As Smokescreen finished his sentence, Wheeljack entered the command deck and walked up alongside him. Smokey regarded the inventor with a nod and then looked back at Ironhide. “If I may, sir, I would suggest continuing to monitor the human internet for anything suspicious. If a ‘con virus were to make an attempt to infect our system, it would most certainly come from there.”