by HardHead » Sun Jan 18, 2009 11:12 am
Mess hall
With a slightly less than stirling hiss, the not-often used doors to the mess hall opened up, revealing a close to pitch black room that hadn't been used for almost a vorn. Energon was at a premium, but once it was still common enough to be readily available for casual consumption. Which was why the mess hall was utilised. Most mechs would recharge on the fly these days, having been given a concentrated and rather tasteless ration or other substitute. Either way, it was either too bland or horrible or in not enough quantity to warrent stopping to 'eat', persay. So, the mess hall had been cut from the grid, until now.
Since the Ark-19 had nothing that resembled a meeting room, the mess hall would have to do. Hell, Ironhide supposed he might as well get some of the bots in their spare time to refit it into a briefing room. That, of course would have to wait. Stepping inside, the sensors that hadn't been activated for many a year slowly came to life, and with them, the lights slowly activated and gloomily lit the space. Old neon signs for now long defunct liquid consumerables companies, tatty carbon-paper posters and a few other reminants came into his vision: glimpses of a Cybertronian society free from war, else a warship that wasn't under the near-grippling energon rationing that it was now. When was the last time he'd been able to afford a glass of refined energon when he went off duty? When had he been able to get off duty for any length of time save to engage in a rest cycle? Bah, musings that had no place at a time like this.
He chose one of the far tables, the round one which had approximately enough seats for the entire crew of the 'teen. They could shift seats around if they needed to. He, however, decided to stand, unceremoniously pushing a seat out of the way as he took another look at the datapad.
Cybertronian technology was derived from probably the most advanced tech-base in the galaxy. Of course, that was from an overall and average point of view. Some races they had met, for example had better transportation technology, their ships five times as fast. A few of them used that advantage to escape what was fundamentally [i]their[i] war. A few were even stronger than them in some military applications. But, for the most part, they had the overall advantage, which meant that most races didn't stand much of a chance against the decepticons. However, it did have an advantage: it meant that the decepticons WERE the only threat to the Autobots.
Which was a problem when other races could potentially reverse-engineer them. The decepticons had detected something in an area the human's called Area 51, Cybertronian signals. That had several implications: either the humans had acquired evidence of their existence, or worse, had gone on and began to replicate their technology. The fact that the decepticons in the transmission Jazz had intercepted didn't know what it was indicated that the accord hadn't been broken, which was good. Though to be fair he wouldn't of minded the help of Ultra Magnus or another of the enforcers to come in and help them clean up shop.
Something didn't sit right. Inevitably, he knew the decepticons would be onto this mystery almost as fast as they were, which meant inevitably there would be conflict. That, and who knows what else was going on that the humans were doing. For all he knew they might be building a piece of technology capable of being a threat to them, and if the decepticons managed to seize it, well they'd be up a flow pipe without a rivet value.