by Gatkowski » Thu Aug 16, 2007 12:40 am
- Motto: "Victory needs no explanation, defeat allows none."
- Weapon: Nuclear Charged Fusion Cannon
Approaching Tyrest
One, single rocketing form of a heavy flight craft was making its way, pulling a contrail across the nightly sky of Cybertron, towards the barely alive city state in front, on the horizon.
Tyrest had been very silent and apparently abandoned in latest times, with Decepticon resources running low, mechpower need at more crucial points in the frontline like Polyhex, all but the most necessary personnel was transferred and transported away. The city was dark and empty, only some dim lights flickered here and there, giving sign of the infrastructure still intact, but operating only at minimal output. The silence was only broken periodically by the deep, soft noise the waving of the Rust Sea made.
In comparison, another city state on the other shore of the sea seemed much more lively and bright. Tagan Heights, the only city with resource refinement capabilities and industrial potential left intact seemed to take no pause in working to the Autobots' advantage in the long-lasting war. Tyrest and Tagan have been standing on the opposing sides of the Rust Sea for many millenia, like two giants tirelessly gazing at each other, but the difference between the two had become ever more recognizable. While Tyres was slowly drying out, Tagan prospered in spite of the war, and progressed.
But soon, that all would change.
>> This is Thunderwing, appointed commander of Tyrest, coming in for a landing. Stand by to receive clearance code, << A sudden, sharp and straight transmission broke the ever silent communication ether around the darkened city, as the form of a lone flight craft shot across the sky of Cybertron, pulling a long contrail behind itself in approach.
Some cranial units in the communications center of the city state snapped back to attention as they found themselves on the receiving end of the incoming message. Or rather, order. The first signs of life quickly sprung back to Tyrest as mechanical fingers began to race on control consoles, and the enormous door of the main hangar creaked up and began to slide open to open the newcomer a passage inside.
Tyrest - Command Hall
The form of Thunderwing, now in his robot mode, made his entry into the central control and communications facility with disciplined haste, quickly, but slowly enough to not rush. His mere presence drove all the personnel to pay twice as much attention to their work and show half as much signs of fatigue, or anything else that my hamper their performance.
Some did it out of fear that their own laziness would receive a rebuke, or punishment, some did it out of respect and eagerness. Thunderwing would very well notice the difference between the two, but right now, other pressing matters were at hand than to filter out less preferrable subordinates.
"Commander in the Hall!" The guard next to the door announced loudly as Thunderwing stepped in. All mechanoids present stood up, faced him and brought their hands up for a salute.
"At ease," Was all the arriving commander said and made a gesture with his hand for the officers to lossen their posture.
Stopping in the middle of the command hall, the Valckastan slowly looked around, carefully measuring the readiness of his troops and through them, the city state itself, his deep green optics reading from the slightest of motion and change of facial expression. The many hundreds of vorns he had spent here, it was of no surprise.
It could have been better. The last few vorns spent here were rather passive, not helping to sharpen the senses and keep the condition of the operating force stationed here. But still, it had to suffice.
"We have little time, so I will be brief," He then began. "The main Decepticon force is preparing a full frontal assault on the Tagan Heights, to which this encampment will serve as a staging post and supply station. I expect every facility to be fully operational within fifteen breems, but all as silent and covered as possible. We cannot let the Autobots notice our preparations," Thunderwing spoke, his gaze wandering from one mech's optics to another's, to shake them up and make his point even clearer.
"You have fifteen breems. Dismissed," The Warlord finished with another gesture of his hand. It would be very soon now. Very soon.