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Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

The local Solar System. From the Sun to Earth's orbit and the Moon. And from there all the way into the outer regions of the system beyond Neptune and the dwarf planets beyond it.

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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Sat Mar 16, 2013 1:40 pm

Motto: ""A look can be deceiving; a touch can be lethal.""
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

Smokescreen was about to go back to cleaning up the lab when Tracer sudden appeared in front of him, giving the rallybot a warm smile. As she reached out and took his hands into her own, she apologized for yelling at him earlier, admitting that while the Syk was working it hadn’t been a full dose and thus her mood could still swing from hot to cold in an instant. The diversion expert never completely understood what her condition did to her or how it worked exactly. He never wanted to ask for fear of upsetting her. However, now Smokey didn’t have to as the troubled femme offered up the best explanation she could think of. The casino comparison was inspired and helped him to better comprehend her mental frame of mind and how it could fluctuate so suddenly.

“That sounds terrible,” Smokescreen admitted as the femme’s hands withdrew from his. “I can’t imagine living like that. Although, I can’t believe that there’s no one else with your affliction. There has to be someone with at least a similar condition. If we could just find that individual, maybe we could learn a way to better manage it. You know, if it wasn’t for this Primus-forsaken war, maybe there would have been a legitimate doctor somewhere who might have found cure by now, but I digress.” The rallybot shook his cranium before flashing her a reassuring smile. “And don’t worry about before. I can handle whatever anger issues you have. I won’t take offense, believe me.”

At Tracer’s next suggestion, Smokescreen chuckled, as well. “Yeah, I agree. We’ll just handle the safe stuff that won’t destroy us all. Heh.” The troubled femme then excused herself to give Razr an energon ration. “No problem, Trace. Take your time,” the rallybot said as he watched the little turbofox come out to get his treat. The small critter was cute and ultimately unaware of the problems his master had to face on a cycle to cycle basis. Sometimes, ignorance was bliss.

Once that was taken care of, Tracer returned to Smokescreen’s side and asked him if they could take a walk once the lab was straightened up. The red and blue mech stared back at her in an understanding manner. Like him, she didn’t want to be cooped up in a lab until Axle got around to giving them the okay to leave. Although, Wheeljack previously said that the field medic only had to give the okay for them to return to active duty and not just to take a simple walk. “Hmmm, you know we just got back from a walk,” Smokey started to say as he let out a sigh that showed defeat on his visage. “Okay, fine. We’ll go for another walk afterwards. Maybe we could head down to the mess hall and have a drink or something. Just as long as you’re feeling up to it, I guess it’ll be all right. I can’t say that I blame you. It won’t take long before I go stir crazy around here, too.”

Smokescreen smiled as he moved over to the storage closet, stopping at the entrance to look back at Tracer. “Well, let’s get this job done. The sooner this place is cleaned, the sooner we can get the slag outta here!” With that said, the diversion expert entered the closet and continued the task of organizing Wheeljack’s belongings, or at least the safe ones.

Science Lab

The first to speak up was Ironfist, a small mech but a very capable engineer in his own right. He had designed some of the most sophisticated weapons the Autobot army had ever seen. The Wrecker enthusiast was a perfect choice of this team of scientific minds, especially when it came to the defenses that would have to be built or re-imagined for their new Earth-bound base. Of course, the small Autobot had some reservations regarding the SkyShield that Ultra Magnus wanted them to build around the planet. Ironfist had a good point, one they would all have to keep in mind when constructing the protective, worldwide space net.

“It’s not that we’re creating a fortress planet, Ironfist,” Wheeljack responded to the weapons engineer. “Magnus simply wants us to protect it. That’s all. I mean, it’s not like we’re going to enslave the human race or set up a series of weapons platforms in orbit. This SkyShield is just a way to keep watch over things and to more importantly keep the ‘Cons from using their orbital bounce capabilities. We’re not going to interfere with anything the humans want to do. Plus, we’re going to have to be careful considering the fact that the humans already have an international space station in orbit and we don’t want those astronauts to find any of our spy modules. Infiltration protocols are still in affect here.”

Once he was finished addressing Ironfist’s concerns, Wheeljack’s attention was drawn to Perceptor, who had a grave concern of his own. Apparently, the scientist turned sniper had refined a sample of the new ore that was discovered in the destroyed Decepticon headquarters at Mount St. Helens. It had the potential of increasing their power ten fold if it was only successfully put through the testing stage. Perceptor was very worried about the probability that the Decepticons had already refined the ore for themselves, which would place the Autobots at a serious disadvantage.

“Interesting,” the mechanical engineer replied as he studied Perceptor’s anxious features. “Magnus made no mention of the new ore sample or his desire to see it tested at our meeting. I’m a little surprised by this considering that this new power source could be used to eventually energize Autobot City. Potentially, we wouldn’t even need to mine minerals from the planet, itself, if we had enough of this ore around.” Wheeljack paused for a moment as he kept his optics locked on the scientist/sniper. “Perceptor, did you inform Magnus of your progress on refinement. If so, what did he say?”
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Skyswipe » Fri Mar 22, 2013 8:03 pm

Motto: ""I have no need for friends, even less for enemies.""
Weapon: Energo-Sword
Deck 6 - Corridors


Cliffjumper casually strutted through the hallway, not really knowing where his ultimate destination lied. He just knew if he spent another nanosecond cooped up in his quarters that his cranial chamber was going to explode. He was a mech of action, a warrior - and all this waiting around was overloading his meta processors.

The loss of Optimus had been a huge hit to the Autobots' overall morale. Cliffjumper still couldn't, or didn't want to believe that it was true - despite all evidence to the contrary. Then there was that whole thing with Hot Rod, and the rumors of the Fallen One, and all that slag.

Finally, as if that wasn't enough, there was the ceasefire with the Decepticons. The thought of working together with those fraggers made his external plating crawl. He didn't trust them for an astro-second. Onslaught, Shockwave, or whoever the frag was currently in charge of the Cons was sure to stab them in the backbone infrastructure at the first available opportunity. Cliff preferred taking the offensive, as opposed to just waiting for the inevitable, but the brass thought otherwise - so his hands were tied.

Cliffjumper rounded the bend, hoping to lay optics on anyone familiar. Primus, at this point he'd consider striking up a conversation with a toaster. He was so bored.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Sun Mar 24, 2013 3:25 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Science Lab

Perceptor crossed his arms over his chest and sent an annoyed look in the mechanical engineer’s direction. “Perhaps Ultra Magnus is more interested in prolonging this war rather than ending it.” His words were spoken in a biting tone but before a response could be made by anyone in the room, the scientist turned sniper raised a hand to bring pause to anything they would have to say. “Apologies, Wheeljack, but that is how I see things.”

The red mech paused for a moment as he considered his response to the engineer’s last quarry. The results from the ore’s study was nearly complete, however he still needed to find a way to test it. “Of course I informed him.” He snorted. “I told Magnus that I had finally refined the ore but in order be certain that the process was done correctly I needed to run some tests.” Perceptor’s optics locked on those of the engineer’s as he spoke. “Preferably on a functional subject.”

He let out a huff and broke off optic contact. The sniper settled into his chair further as he pressed on. “I offered to do it myself. Regrettably my request was denied.” Perceptor raised his chin and gestured to Jetfire who had taken up a position not far from the sniper. “Jetfire has come up with an alternative. It’s one I would like to implement as soon as possible.”

Perceptor placed both arms on the counter and leaned forward. His expression serious, his voice even more determined. “Confining ourselves to this planet, digging ourselves in deeper is not going to win this war. We can wrap this world up as tight as was we want; it will not stop the Decepticons from finding another way to get to us. This is not the only front. I hope Magnus has not forgotten that fact.”
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Foximus » Tue Mar 26, 2013 11:22 pm

Motto: "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings."
Weapon: Laser Rifle
Corridors

Streetwise had left Groove in the med bay after his fellow Protectobot had gone into the CR chamber. His chassis was free of all of the sand that had been caught in his gears thanks to his wild ride on the beach trying not to get scrapped by Brawl. All of this talk of the Fallen and too convenient coincidences left a bad feeling in his fuel pump. What was Magnus planning to do about all of this...?

Casting his gaze ahead, the interceptor saw Cliffjumper coming around the corner. Streetwise plastered a friendly smile on his face and waved to crimson bot as he walked over to him. The smile was more for Cliffjumper's benefit. Morale had hit rock-bottom so far as the interceptor was concerned.

"Hey there, Cliff. How's it goin'?"

Training Hall

Arcee returned Beretta's cocky smirk with one of her own. She hefted her electro dispenser rifle, a wicked grin spreading across her faceplate. She was more than confident in her sharp-shooting abilities. She was no Slingshot, but she was good.

"Heh, you got it, Beretta."

Arcee lined up with the dummy and locked herself into the standing firing position of three firing positions. She had practiced them over and over countless times. She braced the rifle against her shoulder plating and peered down the sight to the waiting dummy.

The pink warrior shut out all outside distractions and focused in on the dummy, imagining that it was a Decepticon. Who would it be today? Starscream? Soundwave? Maybe Onslaught or one of the other combaticons. Not Megatron anymore - good riddance. She never knew until the moment she pulled the trigger.

The face was beginning to form as she tightened her grip on the rifle. Arcee wrapped her finger around the trigger and pulled. The gun kicked back into her shoulder plating as the face congealed to be...Shockwave. That worked. Her shot hit dead-center. Arcee quickly adjusted for the kickback and shot a few more rounds into the dummy enjoying the sound of her shots connecting with their target. If only it were the real Shockwave. Well, if it were the real Shockwave, odds were that she would not be this close. That arm gun of his was nothing to sniff at.

Arcee let out a sigh and lowered her gun as she emptied her clip. Her shots had hit, not all dead-center, but at least there weren't any misses. A frown crossed her delicate features as her thoughts turned to Hot Rod. She couldn't find him anywhere and anyone she ran across seemed offline on their feet.

The pink warrior turned back to Beretta, her former smile plastered on her face once more - only a little less genuine.

"Care to top that?"
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Insidious » Wed Mar 27, 2013 12:39 pm

Motto: "Clarity of thought before rashness of action."
Weapon: Oxidating Laser
Deck Six--Aerialbot Hab Suite

Fireflight hadn't exactly invested his whole effort into cleaning up their habitation suite. His mind was elsewhere, as was usually the case. But on occasion when he did wander away from his thoughts to see just how much the other Aerialbots were contributing to the effort, he was actually pretty pleased with himself. Their contributions up to this point had been minimal at best.

"There. That's enough cleaning for me, I think," Fireflight said listlessly, his audio detectors picking up some muffled voices out in the corridors. Who might that be? Something or someone more interesting than anything he was currently up to, that was for sure.

Engaging the door, it slid out of the way, allowing the Aerialbot to step out into the hall. Not far away stood some more familiar faces. A Protectobot. One of the fun ones, even. And Cliffjumper. Nice.

"Hey guys, wanna come chill in our hab?"
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Gatkowski » Wed Mar 27, 2013 6:29 pm

Motto: "Victory needs no explanation, defeat allows none."
Weapon: Nuclear Charged Fusion Cannon
Training Hall

"Care to top that?"

Beretta's face locked into a frown of half-surprise, half-anger upon witnessing Arcee's near flawless performance. Smoke coiled mockingly from small holes burned into the dummy's frame as if to emphasize how far behind she had been left. Exactly 22% of accuracy, according to her heads-up display.

Not that she was angry with Arcee. She was angry, truly angry, with her own self. There she was, Remy's favorite war hero, the femme fatale of Autobot strike squads, nicknamed 'Gunslinger' for her well-recognized proficiency with handguns... beaten straight up in a mere target practice match.

She had just bought herself a ticket to being laughing-stock aboard the ship for at least a standard Earth week.

"Ah, to slag with it!" she exclaimed as her manual actuator moved in a swift blur, without any conscious thought, to her sidearm resting in the waist holster.

The crude, front-heavy pistol came up to her hip before optics could refresh and her other actuator was already sweeping down at the hammer, digits spread wide. As the trigger was squeezed and the hammer fanned, the gun spat thunder rapidly, blasting the training dummy with whistling solid rounds.

None were aimed, precise shots but all of them hit the target. And against the accumulating high-explosive power, the dummy construct had no chance of holding up. It broke apart to pieces in a blooming orange cloud of detonation, showering the shooting range with sparks and metal fragment.

Beretta's pistol clicked empty, having spent the magazine - and the femme's fury with it. She lowered the gun. Venting her frustration wasn't going to excuse having lost the bout. Even if the results were quite satisfying. The bet was over aimed shots, not an all-out bullet hailstorm.

"Okay, so my mouth was too big again," she said as she turned to Arcee, "and now I owe you a drink. For three Earth days straight."

She sighed.

"This inactivity is killing me. I'm so dull I even have trouble hitting these aft-ugly, disfigured dartboards," she nodded at the ruined dummy target. "It's like command doesn't even realize how many of us are stuck up here scratching our afts, instead of doing something useful down on the surface."
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Marcus Rush » Thu Mar 28, 2013 3:14 pm

Weapon: Automatic Acid-Pellet Gun
Captain's Ready Room

It was a never ending war. A war between ideas that would only come to peace with the elimination of every last vestige of the other opposing philosopy. Ultra Magnus knew he was not the proper mechanism for this task. He knew it because he was a soldier first, that was his background since the early days. The final days of the Golden Age when he was subject to Sentinel Prime and later Zeta Prime and their lessons that were instilled to him. What made him any more different than those two whom were killed in battle by Megatron? Those who held little hope of victory beyond that of Optimus, his brother, had been warriors and servers of a corrupt justice.

This civil war was not about resources, though resources had become a major part of it. Energon could be synthetically converted from other sources of energy, so they would be hard pressed for starvation. Had either side left those operations alone, war would have still come upon them. No, Magnus mused to himself as the final adjustments to his newly repaired monitor was being made, this was a war for the very spark of what it meant to be a Cybertronian. Were they of empire, treating all non Cyber life forms as nothing more than fodder for their ambitions? Or were they a people who believed that they were a part of a greater universe, a small piece in the greater balance and that they all had a role to play?

Ultra Magnus had no answer for either question. He believed as his brother believed in the cause that Freedom was the Right of ALL Sentient Beings. Their methods were different but both were tempered by the restraint that simple belief brought them. But it wasn't what he believed that mattered so much as which philosophy won out. To compare it to those who inhabited the world below, it was similar to their second global war. Facism verses Socialism verses Imperialism verses the powers of Democracy. The fact that the Democratic power won out brought hope to Ultra Magnus.

Those questions laid heavily on his processors as he finally made the effort to active the scientific reports from Perceptor and the engineering design request petitions from Ironfist. The engineering requests were simple enough to go through, Ironfist was working on the designs of a new solid munition shell that targeted specific friend or foe frequencies. Its potential to the effort was abundant, though its moral applications were equally weighty. Knowing the engineer's past accomplishments and the controverical weaponry that were now being employed throughout the Autobot Army and even Navy, Magnus gave the mechanism the benefit of the doubt. He transmitted an approval to further design with the provision that Wheeljack was to sign off before testing.

The matter of Perceptor's request however was drawn a new as Magnus activated the reports of the scientist's research. Magnus did not deny the necessity of testing the newly refined energon supplement that the scientist, metallurgist and soma come lately snipper. Inwardly he supported its necessity whole bore. Ultra Magnus's concerns with Perceptor's request was that his friend had shown determination to test it upon himself. He admired the mechanism's fuel pump and desire to be the one willing to sacrifice himself in the name of science, but Perceptor failed to realize the request and the weight he was putting upon Magnus. "Or perhaps he knew percisely what he was asking." Magnus's voice startled even himself.

The Decepticons were decidedly further along in this avenue of research. Even without information or evidence, Magnus knew in his core that was the truth. And here he was afraid to see another friend put himself on the line. Optimus would have possibly made the same restriction... or would he have? Given what was at stake, Magnus had chosen the spark of his friend over a potential balancing development. He had chosen to make Earth a new home, temporary as it may be.

Still if they were to survive, they needed an edge beyond simply developing new forms of defense or transit. They needed to develop a use for this new Ore and a counter measure.

Ultra Magnus finished the detailed research paper, as long as it was verbose. He rubbed his optics briefly before glancing over to the now darkened western hemesphere and the large strip of pure darkness along the edge of the southern continent. With a simple nod, Magnus activated a basic communique link to Wheeljack and Perceptor.

<Testing of Refined Energon Derivitive of Ore 13 Approved. Conditions must be followed, testing on drones or sparkless forms only until results satisfactory and repeatable by outside bodies. In conjunction with new assignment, find potential applications should tests be deemed positive. Secondary approval granted, discover potential countermeasures to afore mentioned Energon Sample. Contact with results during status updates.>

Magnus transmitted the message and deactivated the terminal. He needed to begin with the heavy task of rebuilding these battle weary Autobots. And to do that he needed a center for them to unwind. For that effort, Ultra Magnus stood up from his desk and swiftly departed his newly reclaimed office and dispatched himself from the bridge towards the hanger decks and the Dispensory Halls.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Thu Mar 28, 2013 4:28 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
((OOC: Marcus, Deva, apologies for forgetting to add this message earlier.))


Message from Axle to the Members of the Command Staff

>>“The issue concerning The Fallen is not one to be taken lightly. I’ve come across some vital information and clues as to what’s happening to our ‘Bots and the two ‘Cons. I’ve also located their whereabouts. I’m on my way up to the bridge with everything I’ve found.”<<
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Sun Apr 07, 2013 8:56 am

Motto: ""A look can be deceiving; a touch can be lethal.""
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Science Lab

Wheeljack could clearly tell that he had irritated Perceptor with his words regarding Ultra Magnus and the new ore sample. Apparently, the scientist/sniper had wanted to test the refined energon on himself but the City Commander had nixed the idea outright. This didn’t surprise the mechanical engineer one bit as Percy was always willing to sacrifice his own spark if doing so would save Autobot lives. However, the spark in question was just too valuable to lose for any reason.

“There’s no apologies needed, Perceptor,” Wheeljack responded to the scientist-turned-sniper once his comrade was finished venting. “I understand where you’re coming from. I’m sure Magnus wants to end this war as soon as possible and understands there are multiple fronts. But this planet has become a major battleground and thus it must be fortified and protected in the best way that we can. Sure, the ‘Cons will likely find a way around our defenses and continue fighting, but we still have to try.”

The engineer quieted for a moment as he approached the sitting scientist and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder plate. “Furthermore, your willingness to do what you feel you have to regardless of the risks is highly commendable, Perceptor. However, I have to side with Magnus on this one, I’m afraid. Testing the ore on yourself could cause irreversible damage or even lead to death. You’re one of the brightest processors the Autobots have. We can’t afford to lose you no matter what. We would be at a great disadvantage without you not to mention we’d lose a close friend and ally. We’ll find another way.”

Wheeljack then removed his hand from scientist/sniper’s shoulder and turned his attention over to the Air Guardian who was standing nearby. “Of course, that way may have already been discovered. I’d be very interested in hearing what alternative Perceptor is referring to, Jet....” The mechanical engineer’s words were abruptly cut off when he received the comm from Ultra Magnus. It seemed as though Ore-13 testing had been approved but with strict conditions to be followed.

>>"Understood, Commander Magnus. We will report back as soon as we have results."<<

Once the return message was sent to the City Commander, Wheeljack cut his comm line and returned his attention to the red and white flier. “Well, that couldn’t have been timed better. Testing on the new energon has been approved but is limited to sparkless bodies or drones. As I was saying before, I’d love to hear your idea, Jetfire, but Magnus may have already let the cat out of the bag as the humans would say. Am I right?”
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Marcus Rush » Tue Apr 09, 2013 6:28 pm

Weapon: Automatic Acid-Pellet Gun
Science Lab

Ironfist was barely sated with the responce given, the very notion of putting a native species to work for their cause was antithetical to the very idea that they fought to protect. Wreckers never stood by while slavery was going on and in a great many tales Impactor and his crew of outlaws would go out of their way to liberate Con slave camps, though Ironfist was convenced that it wasn't out of pitty but indeed out of strategy. Cripple the labor supply and the cons war effort would grind to a halt. He let the discussion subside.

His mind was quickly dashed from the topic and onto the potential of the modernizing and streamlining of older technologies. In particular, the weapon's engineer was focused on the Space Bridge schematic as it hovered on the display. "I can see another reason why Magnus would want to modify this particular piece of technology. Bouncing requires a close to stationary position. But to enter a singularity, all one would have to do is to hit the event horizon regardless of speed. I wonder how small we can shrink this. A sub orbital rifle, now that is definitely interesting."

His audio receptors immediately caught the interaction between Jetfire, Perceptor and Wheeljack. His head simply turned from side to side. "I would assume these rooms are wired for sound and other security measures. I would not be surprised if Magnus is already reading notes on this briefing right now. He seems to be pretty up on some of these things."

The weapons designer pushed his tool satchel to the edge of the work bench. "Alright, I don't mean to be an arrogant model or to be impatient. But I say we begin this little task before we rust. I am anxious to explore this 'Bridge' technology further."
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Foximus » Sat Apr 13, 2013 3:57 pm

Motto: "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings."
Weapon: Laser Rifle
Training Hall

Arcee watched Beretta unload on the practice dummy. She couldn't help but feel bad for having won. After the gunslinging femme's fury was spent, the pink warrior walked over and gave Beretta a friendly slap on the shoulder. Arcee wished there was something more she could do. As Beretta turned to Arcee conceding defeat, Arcee offered her best sympathetic smile.

"Nothing better than a drink between friends."

As her comrade heaved a heavy sigh from her intakes, Arcee's lips curled downward in concern.

"This inactivity is killing me. I'm so dull I even have trouble hitting these aft-ugly, disfigured dartboards. It's like command doesn't even realize how many of us are stuck up here scratching our afts, instead of doing something useful down on the surface."

"No kidding," Arcee grumbled bitterly, a flare of irritation sparking in her at the mention of Autobot command, "We're all losing our edge, sitting up here on our afts. Meanwhile, the Decepticons only get more vicious the more bored they get. Plus, we're giving them time to get their slag in order!"

"On top of it all, I haven't seen Hot Rod in what seems like vorns. Couldn't find him earlier when I was wandering about the halls. When I ran into you," Arcee let out a small sigh that gradually morphed into a low growl of frustration.

"I don't know what command has in their heads. I don't know anything. It's too quiet. It's too calm for what's happened," Arcee said, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chestplate.

--------

Science Lab

Despite Blaster's outgoing and charismatic persona as the "Voice" of the Autobots, he generally kept his own council in more personal situations. Every once in a while, he would have to swallow his own beliefs and opinions and say what the higher ups wanted the rank and file to hear. It wasn't often that Blaster was called out to do something else. This was one of those times. Blaster listened to the bulk of the conversation mildly surprised at some of Perceptor's opinions.

Eventually, it was Ironfist that got the group back on topic. Blaster was more than a little interested in the space bridge technology. It would give the Autobots a huge advantage on the field and in communications as well for those times when messages had to be sent on foot rather than transmitted. Blaster studied the schematics for the space bridge. As it stood, it was too big to be practical and would constantly be under siege by the Decepticons once they were aware of its existence.

"I have to agree with Ironfist here," Blaster said to the rest of the group, giving Ironfist a friendly shake on the shoulder, "This technology isn't going to get created on its own."
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Devastron » Mon Apr 15, 2013 10:11 pm

Weapon: Energo-Sword
Science Lab

Jetfire was mostly content to remain silent as Wheeljack arrived and disclosed their assignment to them all. He was as startled at the implications of these new technologies as some of the others, but he was able to keep his surprise silent. These orders very much felt like and abrupt shift in general Autobot strategy. It was difficult enough hiding one of their spacecraft on a world like Earth, let alone a city, depending on one’s definition of a ‘city’ of course. The fact that it was backed up with rather permanent sounding modes of transportation and defense of this particular planet though made it sound like Magnus expected the city to be rather substantial and possibly permanent, a rather massive shift in strategy indeed for this level of the Infiltration protocols.

Before he could offer any further comment Wheeljack apparently received a signal from command. He waited until the engineer continued. He offered a smile to the other Autobot. “While I’m not privy to whatever Magnus told you, my plan was a rather simple one. We should have ample spare parts on board either this vessel or the Guardian to spare for a test. We can construct a fully functioning Cybertronian body, minus the spark of course and likely some vital cerebral circuitry. I believe that would be enough to at least run this fuel through a physical test. We should be able to see all of the affects it has on a Cybertronians physical form and functions.”

“It won’t be a perfect test of course. I doubt anyone can predict how a spark will react to anything, although I doubt a fuel derivative will do it any harm. Of course, I do not profess to by a psychologist or ‘spiritualist’ by any means, but I would hope high command wouldn’t find it necessary to consult either of those sources.”

Jetfire paused a moment in thought before continuing. “I do have to express concerns similar to my fellow Autobots. What Magnus is suggesting with these projects and technologies is a vast shift in general Autobot strategy. This is certainly within his prevue, particularly with Optimus Prime’s passing, but I would like to have some reassurances or answers before continuing too far. A ‘ground’ bridge and orbital jamming field are not small feats, in addition to a permanent presence on this world. All of these projects will take a considerable amount of energy, resources and time to complete. I would like to know what has happened to so greatly change the face of the war to advocate such radical changes.”

The Autobot turned back to glance thoughtfully at the readouts of the ore 13. “Is it possible that this new fuel comes from this planet? Is this why Magnus is assigning such importance to it? That would be logical to an extent, but if we knew for sure and if we knew of a location with more of this ore so we could plan around it, perhaps staging this ‘city’ nearby it would make things a bit easier.”

*

Quarters

Kup had taken a detour from going back on active duty to get a quick recharge. Unfortunately at his age sometimes quick recharges became long periods of deactivation. Ratchet would probably demand he come in for some sort of maintenance or something if he knew about this, but the hell if he was going to tell him. He wasn’t about to listen to a lecture from the chief medic and let him go tinkering with his innards unless he was really hurting. He wanted to enjoy one of the few advantages of old age, not giving a damn about what others thought of him. Of course, that had never really been a problem for Kup.

Stretching his creaky limbs the old-timer replied to the message that had roused him from his deactivation. >>”Roger that Axle, I’ll meet you on the bridge.”<<

“Guh, the Fallen. What that slag is this whole universe coming to anyway? Before you know it we’ll be riding around on Metrotitans fighting side by side with the slagging Knights of Cybertron.” Kup grumbled to himself as he walked out the door and headed towards the bridge. Hopefully whatever Axle had would be solid and something they could use to put a nice quick end to this whole Fallen situation. This was the type of thing that could really rattle morale pretty bad, heck, even he was a bit rattled by it. He’d seen a lot of things in his time, but nothing quite like the fireworks the Fallen and his apparent brainwashed lackeys had pulled off, and he’s only seen like half of it. Well, if Axle had found him they would just have to drop the hammer down on this Fallen, hard.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Fri Apr 19, 2013 9:05 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Wheeljack’s Lab

Tracer let out a low hum of approval as she stepped back from the storage closet she had been reorganizing. It had taken the better part of their time, but the scout had finally finished her portion of their agreed to job.

With her hands on her hips and a slight smile on her face Tracer nodded. “Well, that was – relentless.” The femme took a glance over her shoulder at Smokescreen sending the diversion expert a coy smirk. Just as quickly Tracer looked back to the closet and raised her hands gesturing at the entire storage area. “This area right here…” Tracer focused on a small portion squaring it off and then moved on to the next area. “And from here to here. Just this little, teeny area over here.” She intoned before humming again. "This was the only area in this closet I was comfortable looking at... let alone touching"

She peeked over her should again but this time she kept her optics settled on Smokescreen. “You know, I don’t think we’re going to be able to get this place as neat as what someone with OCD would call passable, but I think by our standards it’s pretty good.”

Tracer turned around fully and made her way to stand beside the rallybot. She took a quick look at the storage closet he had been working on and then turned her attention towards the replicator that Wheeljack had left perched atop the workbench. The small smile that was on Tracer’s face faltered slightly. “Please tell me we can leave. I just want to forget about this place and the past couple of cycles for a while.” She said lowly.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Sat Apr 20, 2013 8:24 am

Motto: ""A look can be deceiving; a touch can be lethal.""
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Science Lab

Wheeljack could tell that everyone present was eager to get started on this monumental set of tasks sooner rather than later even before Ironfist and Blaster said anything. Perceptor had grown quiet, but that may still have been out of agitation with Magnus rather than impatience. At least the go-ahead had been received from the City Commander to begin testing the new ore. That should have made the sniper a bit happier even if he hadn’t shown it yet. Jetfire’s overall concerns regarding the new shift in strategy echoed those of the others and even the mechanical engineer, himself.

“I understand your reservations, Jetfire,” Wheeljack replied to his fellow scientist, withdrawing his faceshield to reveal a friendly smile underneath. “From what I understand this new ore was, in fact, discovered down on Earth and there could be additional deposits around the planet that have yet been uncovered. Right now Prowl is leading a scouting mission in a region of the South American continent to locate an acceptable spot for our new base. It’s quite possible that they might find another deposit of this ore while searching for other natural resources that we could tap into. This makes it even more imperative that we test this substance and determine if it’s suitable, not to mention safe, for use or not.”

Wheeljack then looked over at the weapons engineer and communications specialist, their impatience to get things going clearly etched across their faceplates. “I agree. We’ve discussed things long enough. Time for some action. Ironfist, you and Blaster can get started on redesigning the space bridge tech into a ground bridge while Jetfire, Perceptor and I will begin working on building a make-shift body that we can test the refined ore sample on.”

The mad scientist then looked back to the red and white flier. “I should have some spare parts in my lab, Jetfire, but it won’t be enough,” Wheeljack sighed, knowing full well that he didn’t have left what would be needed considering the fact he had already built an entire Cybertronian frame for Smokescreen. Still there had to be something remaining they could use. The inventor just wished he hadn’t destroyed the diversion expert’s old body. It would’ve made a perfect test subject. “The main storage depot here on the Ark should have plenty of parts so I doubt we’ll have to travel back to the Guardian for anything. As for spiritualist or psychological concerns, Magnus mentioned nothing of the sort to me so I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Those are still factors to take into consideration, of course, but an imperfect test at this point is better than none at all.”

Wheeljack’s words trailed off as he looked around the room at everyone present. “I know this is all a lot to take in. Believe me, I agree that the shift in strategy is a bit jarring to say the least. However, Magnus feels it is necessary. He does understand the magnitude and difficulty of the tasks he has assigned to us, but he also has every confidence in us that we can get the job done and make this planet more secure against the ever growing Decepticon threat. Now, let’s get this party started, shall we?”

Wheeljack’s Lab

Smokescreen finished reorganizing his designated sections of the main storage closet located at the back of the scientist’s lab. In other words, he took care of the areas that Tracer was uncomfortable with touching. After all, there was a lot of weird stuff in there, mostly Wheeljack’s untested inventions, so Smokey didn’t blame the troubled femme for not wanting to disturb anything that might blow up in their faceplates. If it wasn’t for everything the inventor had done for them over that past several cycles, the diversion expert wouldn’t be in the closet cleaning up at all. Still, he owed ‘Jack big time and he doubted that this little bit of tidying up would be enough to settle his overall debt.

The rallybot chuckled at Tracer’s OCD comment and subsequent desire to get the slag out of the lab in order to forget things for awhile. Glancing over at her, Smokescreen placed a reassuring arm around her shoulder plates, pulling her closer to him. “Yes, I think we’ve done all that we can here,” Smokey agreed as a smile spread wide across his visage. “So, let’s blow this pop stand as the humans would say and head down to the mess hall for that drink I suggested earlier. I think it’s time that we relaxed a bit and maybe get caught up on everything that’s been going on around here while we’ve been, for the most part, isolated from the rest of our fellow 'Bots."

Smokescreen leaned in a gave Tracer a gentle kiss on her cheek plate before withdrawing his arm from around her shoulders and taking her hand into his own. The rallybot then lead the drug-addicted femme out of the lab and into the corridor beyond, the mess hall as their intended destination. “I hear that the Ark-22 has some of the best energon substitute in the entire Autobot fleet. That would be great, if true, as the slag on the Guardian and Ark-19 was nothing to comm home about. Heh.” I certainly hope my gag reflex is working in this new body. I may need it!
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Gatkowski » Sat Apr 20, 2013 9:52 am

Motto: "Victory needs no explanation, defeat allows none."
Weapon: Nuclear Charged Fusion Cannon
Traning Hall

It looked like Arcee was similarly put out by inactivity. No wonder. They weren't cons, for sure, but they were all crack soldiers whom action made tick. After all, making things better and driving the whole conflict towards resolution was achieved through action, right?

Beretta wasn't too sure what that resolution would be, though. Total annihilation or peace? Or something else? She didn't dwell on it too much, she got her orders, her mission parameters and tried to make the best of them. Focus on right now and don't hesitate to pull the trigger.

On top of it all, I haven't seen Hot Rod in what seems like vorns. Couldn't find him earlier when I was wandering about the halls. When I ran into you.

An optic ridge above Beretta's visor slowly climbed upwards. Now, why on Cybertron would someone like Arcee want to see Hot Rod frequently? Unless... Beretta suppressed a half amused, half annoyed smirk. She never could get what it was that made the flame-painted bravado-bot so popular. He rarely could show anything, apart from that big mouth aperture of his. Ha undeniably had a charm to him, too, only that wasn't too much of a saving grace. Might have looked cool on the cover of a Top Bot holo-magazine but as far as warzones were concerned, he made a sorry sight instead of the model of battlefield reliability.

At least, Beretta thought so.

Before she could get in on the subject, however, Arcee said something else.

I don't know what command has in their heads. I don't know anything. It's too quiet. It's too calm for what's happened.

'What do you mean?' Beretta asked. 'What has happened?' She wasn't exactly up to date on the status of missions external to the ship. She and most of her team were assigned to non-stop guard duty for a longer time than she wished to remember, so she would have no clue.

But the way Arcee said it, it sure sounded grave.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Sun Apr 21, 2013 8:29 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Heading to the Mess Hall

A slim smile creased Tracer’s lips as Smokescreen placed an arm around her shoulder. Grateful for the contact she leaned into him happily. The scout let out a low chuckle at the former rallybot’s use of a human phrase she had never heard. Of course she had never been stationed on the planet and had relatively no clue as to what the cultures were like. Or was there just one?

Tracer mentally shook the thought from her processor. Perhaps in the future she’d talk with Smokey about his experiences on the planet, but for now she was more interested in just being with him again.

“Right. Pop stand.” The smile on her face grew slightly.

The femme let out a contented hum when he leaned in close and gave her a gentle kiss. Yes getting out of the confines of the lab would certainly do them both some good. Although she was also inclined to continue hiding out in order to keep him all to herself. That thought caused the corner of her lip to curl slightly upward. Maybe later.

As soon as her hand slipped into his Tracer had curled her fingers firmly around his and let him lead the way out toward the mess hall.

Smokescreen’s comment concerning the quality of the Ark-22’s energon substitute brought a surprised expression to the femme’s face. “Really? I figured creating any kind of “good” synthetic energon was near impossible.” The shocked look on her face turned into an amused smirk before she continued the light conversation.

“I’ve been assigned to the Guardian for a really long time…” Tracer glanced over at him, a serious expression plastered on her face. “A really, really long time and the energon on board is actually…” She paused for a moment as she thought. “…repulsive.” The deadpan look on her face turned easily into a bright smile.

Tracer shook her head as series of memories flooded into her processor. “You know, I often had to force-feed Razr. And he usually eats anything that I put in front of him.” The smile on her face vanished suddenly. Tracer stopped and turned around to look back the way they had come. “Razr. I forgot about him.”

She looked back at Smokescreen and gave him an apologetic shrug. But instead of heading back to the lab the scout let out a loud whistle. A nanoklik later and the turbofox nearly tripped out of the door in order to get by Tracer’s side.

The small animal plopped heavily on its aft and stared up at its master with an eager look in its optics. “Good boy. Wanna go get something to eat?” Tracer cooed softly as she leaned down and stroked his head. Razr’s cranium tilted to the right causing one of his raised audial to flop down. “Of course you do. Come on.” Tracer gestured quickly setting Razr into motion.

She looked up from the little animal and glanced at Smokescreen. “He was really good when I was scouting. Maybe he and I can get back into it after…you know.” Tracer smiled lightly before growing quiet.

Science Lab

Perceptor had remained quiet opting to take in all of the input being provided by the other occupants of the lab. He was rather perturbed about Magnus’ initial rejection to his proposal but even the subsequent reversal of the decision didn’t seem to lighten his mood.

Wheeljack had barely gotten out his last word when Perceptor was up on his feet and making his way toward the door. “Let’s not dawdle. The sooner we construct this armature the sooner we can commence with the testing.”

The scientist turned sniper sent a tight serious glare in the gathered group’s direction.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby #Sideways# » Thu Apr 25, 2013 10:34 pm

Motto: "Wake up. Wake up and smell the ashes."
Weapon: Dual Compression Cannons
Docking Ring

Followed closely by Mirage, Jazz made his way into the Ark-22. Feeling the familiar flooring beneath his feet, the special ops director felt a smirk come over his face, having a slight nostalgic feeling, remembering the 19.

Keh! Those Dinobots are downright idiots for stealing that ship... I mean, what the slag is Grimlock trying to prove? Jazz thought, catching himself from saying it aloud, for he knew he was sworn into secrecy, and he would rather not break that oath twice within the same solar cycle.

The Dinobots were still fresh on his mind, considering it was their brash and knuckle-headed move that actually sparked the whole investigation, but no one needed to know that. Of course, Jazz was sure that Mirage would find out one way or another, for he was an assassin, after all.

"I know the feeling. Although, knowing Magnus, I doubt that he'll tell us anything. Like, at all." Jazz stated, turning a corner.

He was silent for a while, letting the low hum of the ship's engines serenade his footsteps. Walking for a brief amount of time, Jazz finally reached the Bridge, and with it, the Captain's Quarters.

Finding Magnus out of his quarters and on his way to parts unknown, Jazz greeted Magnus with a smile. The two of them had been friends since the early days of Cybertron, though not as close as Jazz was with Optimus; Optimus and Magnus were brothers, after all. It was good to see a friendly face, albeit one so stiff and non-joking as Magnus'.

"Hey, man, you busy? Listen, Ratchet needs to talk to you, and it has to do with Howlstrike and his be-header." Jazz asked, walking beside the titan briskly.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Sun Apr 28, 2013 1:06 pm

Motto: ""A look can be deceiving; a touch can be lethal.""
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Corridors

Smokescreen chuckled under his breath when Tracer expressed her uncertainty that there was such a thing as good synthetic energon. From her own experience while assigned to the Guardian, the troubled femme had never tasted decent energon that wasn’t the real deal. The diversion expert couldn’t rightly argue with her, either, as he had only heard stories of the Ark-22’s artificial derivative and how smooth it tasted. Smokey couldn’t say for sure how accurate those accounts were as he had not yet tried it, himself.

“Well, I’d normally have to agree with you, Tracer. The slop on the 19 was terrible, as well. But, who knows? Maybe the 22’s synthetic dispensers are higher quality machines. I guess we’ll be the guinea pigs when we arrive in the mess hall,” Smokescreen replied, utilizing another of Earth’s metaphors. He had been assigned to this tiny blue world for so long it was hard not to pick up some of the language. Of course, his knowledge of human slang and terminology did not even come close to rivaling that of Jazz’s internal database. If the rallybot didn’t know any better he’d say that the Special Ops Director had been an actual human once or perhaps had the brain of one installed within his cranial unit. That thought made Smokey chuckle again, but he quickly suppressed it and returned his attention to the troubled femme, who had stopped when she mentioned having to force feed Razr. Apparently, she had forgotten about the little turbofox.

“Oh, yeah, we don’t want to leave him behind,” Smokescreen said with a smile. “Wheeljack would have our metal hides if he had to take care of a pet on top of everything else he’s dealing with. I’ll go back for him if you....” The rallybot’s offer was cut short when Tracer let out a loud whistle that brought Razr to his master’s side. Smokey watched as the femme spoke to her pet in a soft, comforting tone. It appeared as though she forgot all about her problems, if only for a short time, when she interacted with the small turbofox. Razr was almost as good as the Syk in handling Tracer’s mood swings, but the little creature was unfortunately no substitute on his own. That would’ve been too easy.

“I’m sure you two will be able to go scouting soon enough,” Smokescreen assured Tracer as they continued onward through the corridors of the Ark-22 again. “Just be patient, Trace. Your skills and abilities are too valuable to leave you sitting idle for much longer. I have every confidence that Axle will give you the all clear within the next cycle or two. So, chin up!” With those last words spoken, the rallybot lead the drug-addicted femme and her pet around another corner before arriving at the entrance to the mess hall.

Mess Hall

As the double doors parted down the center, Smokescreen crossed the threshold and entered into the large room where several other Autobots were currently relaxing and getting adjusted to being transferred from the Guardian. The diversion expert knew some of them by name while others he had never seen before as they had likely been assigned to the medical frigate before arriving in the Sol System. Regardless, Smokey nodded to everyone who made optical contact with him as a friendly display of respect, keeping his grip on Tracer’s hand secured so that she felt safe in a much more crowded environment.

“It seems that most have been reassigned to the Ark now,” Smokescreen commented as he lead Tracer over to a series of energon dispensers located against the far wall. “I guess this is Prowl’s doing or perhaps even Ultra Magnus. It makes sense considering that the 22 is much bigger and was built with housing a large number of mechs in mind. It’s certainly not a virtual ghost ship like it was just a few cycles ago.” Motioning for the troubled femme to take a seat at a nearby table that was far enough away from the other 'Bots to give them some privacy, Smokey grabbed two glasses and placed them underneath a pair of dispenser nozzles. Within moments, fresh energon derivative poured fourth into the containers, filling them to the brim.

“There we go,” Smokescreen muttered as he grabbed both glasses in each hand and placed one on the table directly in front of Tracer. He then took a seat across from her and peered down at his own glass. “All right, it’s the moment of truth. Is this the best substitute in the galaxy or have I been mislead? I’ll go first.” Without wasting an astrosecond, the diversion expert lifted his container up to his mouth piece, pausing only briefly to look over the brim at the troubled femme. “You do know how to revive me if I pass out, right? Heh. Kidding.” All jokes aside, the rallybot took a small gulp of the energon substitute, swishing it around in his mouth before finally swallowing it. His stoic facial expression revealed little as he did not appear pleased nor repulsed by the glowing purple liquid.

“Well,” Smokescreen started to say as he placed his mostly full glass back down onto the table top. “It’s not great, but it’s not terrible, either. I’ve had much worse. Still, I think some of my fellow comrades may have over-embellished the actual quality of the 22’s dispenser system. In the world of energon derivative, I must admit that it’s the best I’ve tasted thus far, but that’s not really saying much. Nothing will compare to the real thing, but I can live with it I guess.” The rallybot paused for a moment and locked optics with that of the drug addicted femme. “Go ahead, Tracer, give it a try. It won’t kill you. I promise.”
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Sun Apr 28, 2013 7:39 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Ark – 22, Bridge

Axle stepped through the docking ring and onto the 22, his thoughts almost a blur. He needed to help Hex. He needed to help Hot Rod, or Rodimus and he needed to help Hardhead. All the while his mind was trying to wrap around a way he could do so.

As his processor calculated ways, any way, he and the others could get their mechs back Axle traversed the corridors of the starship intent on making it to bridge and his meeting with Kup.

He arrived at the door to the bridge. He had no doubt that Bluestreak had followed along. Axle walked onto the bridge and took a look around. Several of the crew stopped their work and turned to see who had walked in. When their curiosity was satisfied they turned back to their respective assignments.

Axle met each inquisitive glance and perplexed stare with an uninterested glare. “Where is he?”
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby The J Writer » Tue Apr 30, 2013 7:48 pm

Docking Ring

Following Jazz into the Ark-22, Mirage proceeded through the Docking Ring with the Special Operations Coordinator.

'You're doubtless right,' he responded to Jazz's observation about Ultra Magnus. 'As I probably won't receive any useful information until I'm dispatched, I shall excuse myself for the time being.'

The spymaster turned to head down one of the side corridors as Jazz continued toward the Bridge. As they parted ways, Mirage glanced back over his shoulder.

'Just do me a small favor, and try to prevent this from being a suicide mission.'

With a slight smirk, the illusionist strode away from Jazz, allowing him to get to his meeting unhindered. My rank makes me exactly high enough on the ladder to sit in that meeting and exactly low enough not to contribute in any meaningful way.

He headed for the Mess Hall.

Mess Hall

As he entered the Ark-22's Mess Hall, Mirage could not but help thinking that 'Mess Hall' was a perfect description for this place. The low-grade energon derivatives generally served in such a place epitomized mess, and they were quite likely to cause a Transformer to mess himself, as well. For Mirage, a trip to the Mess Hall was an errand of basic sustenance. The automated double doors of the Hall parted and Mirage stepped through, hoping that he would at least be able to force down his derivative in quiet solitude.

His hopes were dashed as he observed Smokescreen and a femme unfamiliar to him. Tracer, I believe? Attempting to avoid optic contact, Mirage made his way to a dispenser and requisitioned some derivative. He closed his optics and took a minute sip of the fuel, suppressing a cringe as it entered his system.

Vile...nearly beyond words...
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Foximus » Sat May 04, 2013 10:18 am

Motto: "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings."
Weapon: Laser Rifle
Training Hall

'What do you mean? What has happened?'


"You haven't heard?" Arcee asked Beretta incredulously.

Arcee couldn't suppress a cringe from crossing her faceplate. How could she phrase this delicately? Was there really a way to soften this blow? No. Likely not. Arcee wasn't too sure that Beretta would appreciate a softened blow. Femmes like her tended to be rather tough.

"Well...there was a mission to attack the Decepticon earth base located inside of a volcano. Slag went down," Arcee said, "Optimus never made it back out. He's gone. They didn't find the body. I don't know if they sent a team down to look. I don't know anything because Prowl and the rest of command have said nothing!"

Arcee grumbled to herself for a moment, fuming over the lack of information streaming down from above. Still, if there was one good thing to come out of the loss of Optimus Prime and the disorder the Autobots seemed to face, it was that Megatron was now out of the picture as well.

"If it means anything," Arcee added, "I heard that at least Megatron is gone too."

Optimus's disappearance hit hard with many, and Arcee was not excluded. Even news that Megatron shared Optimus's fate did little to help. Arcee thought that it would be easier to bear with someone else like Hot Rod or Springer. Misery loved company after all. But...Hot Rod had gone missing. Fortunately, Arcee had stumbled onto Beretta. Sometimes, there was no one better to rage with than a fellow femme. Shame that they were as scarce as they were.

----

Science Lab

Wheeljack soon divided the workload, pushing the modification of the space bridge onto Blaster and Ironfist while Perceptor and the rest of the scientists began to work on testing out their new fuel supply. Blaster didn't mind. To use a human colloquialism, they were killing two birds with one stone. The communications officer loaded up one of the several Earth songs that he had recorded and played it back aloud to fill the relative quiet of the lab.

Back in black! I hit the sack! I've been to long; I'm glad to be back!

"Alright then, Ironfist," Blaster said, clapping his actuators together, speaking over the music, "Let's get started. Time to get a closer look at those schematics."

The crimson music-lovin' bot punched in a few commands on a hologram projector and brought up a holographic display of the space bridge. He studied the image, scrolling through its multitude of layers and zooming in to view some of its finer details. One of the main issues that Blaster could see was the need for a fixed destination point. Both ends of the bridge were open doors at fixed coordinates.

"Yes, I'm let loose, from the noose, that's kept me hanging about!

If they could somehow open and close the door at any desired set of coordinates, then they'd have a massive advantage over the Decepticons. Of course, the range of this would have to be much more limited as compared to the space bridge's range in order to cut down on mass energon consumption.

"I've been looking at the sky 'cause its getting me high! Forget the hearse 'cause I never die!

"Hm...Ironfist, what improvements do you think we can make? I was thinking about altering it so that we could create a bridge at any location a the one central hub. We could probably make it smaller too. As well as cut down on energon consumption. What do you think?" Blaster asked finally.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Gatkowski » Sat May 04, 2013 11:35 am

Motto: "Victory needs no explanation, defeat allows none."
Weapon: Nuclear Charged Fusion Cannon
Training Hall

Beretta's optics refreshed rapidly as Arcee broke the news to her. She couldn't decide if it was time to feel stupid or not. Such grave events and she barely knew about it. How in slag was that possible?

'Wait a sec... there was some rumor talk about Optimus being gone, but that's just what it is. Rumor, right?' She paused, the silence anxiously tense. 'Right?'

Her pump rate quickened. A sudden dizziness made her cranial unit swam. Arcee didn't burst out in laughter. Nor did she sigh in relief. She did nothing that pointed to any dubiety about what she had just said.

'I mean, what else could it have been? There was this time once, when a mech in a bar told me a startlingly dramatic tale about how he had seen me die a day before... yeah, he was flat out drunk, sure, but still...' she went on, her sentences slipping into senseless gibbering.

Optimus gone. A simple, clean fact, but utterly outside the borders of reality her mind was able to accept.

Her pistol was out of her holster in the next moment, the barrel slowly circling around as she waved it. It wasn't a conscious thought. There was no aim, no co-ordination to it. Her focusless gaze shifted around in the chamber, as if she didn't know where she was.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Foximus » Sat May 04, 2013 11:53 am

Motto: "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings."
Weapon: Laser Rifle
Training Hall

Beretta's reaction turned out to worse than Arcee could have anticipated. The pink femme reached out for the distraught Beretta as she began to babble on and on senselessly. Arcee pulled back abruptly when the femme upholstered her pistol and waved it about haphazardly.

"Beretta...?"

Staring at the femme as she gazed about the room lost, Arcee gritted her mouth aperture and lunged forward, gripping Beretta's shoulder plating hard to force her to face Arcee. Arcee looked at the gunsligner in the optics and shook her hard.

"Beretta! Snap out of it! Look at me! Get a grip!" Arcee commanded firmly.

This was bad. Very bad. If Arcee had known that the news would've had this effect on Beretta, she would've had the gunslinging femme sit down beforehand or something! Primus. And she thought that she had taken things hard. Her troubles seemed like a thing of the past now compared to Beretta's pain.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Gatkowski » Sat May 04, 2013 12:23 pm

Motto: "Victory needs no explanation, defeat allows none."
Weapon: Nuclear Charged Fusion Cannon
Training Hall

Everything felt dim. Blurred. Fading. Senses muffled, receptors units barely picking up anything. As if pushed underwater. Just the double thrums of her central pump were unmistakable.

Beretta! Snap out of it! Look at me! Get a grip!, the voice said. It cut through the numb veil that took over Beretta's mind.

Her sight cleared. A pair of optics, flaring in bright azure looked back at her. She felt a grip tight against her wrist. The firm solid hold of a trigger under her index digit. When did she draw her gun? And what was she doing with it that Arcee had to restrain her for?

'I... I lost it for a moment, didn't I?' she said. Control and composure sifted back into her optics. 'That's the magic shut-down word, I guess...?'

Optimus gone. The void she felt in the wake of the thought was cold. Not that she was any closer to the Supreme Commander than their respective positions required or allowed but Beretta could never deny the overwhelming, empowering effect the presence of Optimus Prime had on her.

Denied to draw upon it again, she felt like a small part of her carved out and burnt away.

'Thanks, Arcee,' Beretta said. 'I'm alright now.'

She let go of her pistol. It fell, and she caught it with her other actuator, sliding the weapon back into holster.

'So, Optimus Prime is MIA,' she said, unwilling to phrase it differently. 'so is Big Mean Bucketmech, right? Which just makes you wonder why in Primus aren't we already on the slaggers if they're leaderless?'
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Foximus » Sat May 04, 2013 12:50 pm

Motto: "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings."
Weapon: Laser Rifle
Training Hall

Sighing with relief as Beretta came back to herself, the pink warrior released her grip on the gunslinger and stood back. She had never seen Beretta lose it like that before. It worried Arcee, leaving her wondering if her friend was going to relapse.

I... I lost it for a moment, didn't I?'

"Yeah, you did," Arcee replied quietly.

Unsettled by the gunslinger's reaction, Arcee took a moment to erase any trace of her own grief from her face to leave only concern and worry for her comrade.

Thanks, Arcee,' Beretta said. 'I'm alright now.'


After that reaction, Arcee was dubious about the honesty of that statement. The pink femme watched her friend carefully. Beretta did seem alright. At least, not like she was before. Grief and despair were still heavily set into her movements and features.

'So, Optimus Prime is MIA, so is Big Mean Bucketmech, right? Which just makes you wonder why in Primus aren't we already on the slaggers if they're leaderless?'


"My thoughts exactly," Arcee said, her tone dark and clenching her fists, "I say we take it to whoever is in charge now and find out what's being done! We can't wait until they manage to stop fighting over Megatron's throne! Strike while the iron is hot and make them pay..."
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