A New Direction: Part 13
A brand mission, a brand new world where many things are not as they same and thier true objective is not even known to them.
PART THIRTEEN
Wraith couldn't believe his audio sensors. "Head back to the-? Are you @#%$ crazy?! That @#%$ Predacon has Rhapsody! I'm not just going to @#%$ sit back @#%$ watch you guys @#%$ take care of everything without me having some @#%$ thing to do with it!"
{"Wraith, calm down. Head back to the Tavern and keep things under control."}
"But-"
{"That's an order!"}
Buckshot and Querion were almost certain they didn't hear a "Yes Sir" from the assassin before he turned and stormed off, and keeping Wraith's ghosting powers in mind, they thought it best to inform Jungle of that little fact, who then discovered that the now bloodthirtsy wolf had turned off his comm...
I am a destroyer, not a rescuer
But also, Caska was an obiedient soldier, and the only one with flight nearby.
"I'm getting in position," she whispered, as she sheathed her sword, and slowly took off- almost as if she were lifted by some supernatural force, and not her wings. She rose straight up, to the roof of the building they were using as cover, and then ran while ducking to its opposite end. She lay on the roof, barely an optic above the edge, watching Grapple.
Everyone was in postion and ready to go. Jungle watched from behind an archway. Everyone had shut their comms down and was going off a visual signal of Jungle making the first move. Grapple was moving towards to a door, Jungle planned to make the move right before he got there.
He began to move and so did the rest. They krept quickly towards Grapple as the Turtle opened the door. "@#%$." Jungle muttered to himself.
On the other side of the door was the Lightning Corps barraks. Two beasts of bots stepped out through the door to examine Grapple. They were both elephants holding... Rail guns. Jungle waved his hand backwards taking off back into the shadows. He saw behind the door and there was nothing but lightening corps members armed to the teeth. There was no way in hell they could do this. Jungle swore and thought for a moment of what to do. Part of him wanted to storm in and take out every last one but the commander in him knew that he team would be slaughtered. "Abort, return to the ship and we will report to Gaul." The was the best he could do for the moment. The door closed behind the two elephants and was sealed at the end of a dark alley that now seemed a bit darker.
The team just glarred angerly at sealed metal door. Their former leader was now in the postion of the most brutal of the Predacon Generals. "Wraith is gonna be pissed." Buckshot said turning back towards the ship.
No later than his name had been mentioned than the wolf stepped out of the wall behind Buckshot. "You have a talent for understatement Bucks."
Jungle's attention snapped to the assassin. "Wraith! I told you-"
"You told me to back off and let Rhapsody go with those rustheaps! No way, no matter who says so. I can phase in, shoot Grapple in the head, and get out in 3 seconds." The wolf retorted.
"Uh huh. And what do you think the Lightning Corps is going to do? Just sit there? If they can't get you, they'll almost certainly kill Rhapsody. Can you avoid that?"
Wraith scowled silently at Jungle.
"I thought not. I know it's hard Wraith, but we've gotta think through this logically. Now, back to the ship."
Caska came back down to Jungle's position.
"Are you kidding?" she said, "You know everyone in there is drunk off their... oh, wait, so are you all. Sh1t."
Dusty raised an eyebrow and gave Caska a mock hurt look. "Hey, I ain't drunk, I leave that to the boys." She grinned quickly, then her expression went serious again (Or at least, as serious as it ever got, which really wasn't much). "Anyway, drunk or not, methinks I'll stick around and keep an eye on the place. Our li'l buddy in there might decide t'relocate, which prolly wouldn't help rescue attempts much if we don't know where he's gone, aye?"
Jungle thought for a moment, then nodded. "You shouldn't stay here alone though. Who else wants to keep watch?" The panther quickly added, "Not you, Wraith."
"But..." Wraith started to protest.
"Come on, let's all go get a drink," said Querion, placing a comforting hand on Wraith's shoulder. "Come on Relic, I guess we don't need much more skulking tonight."
"You don't understand! None of you understand!" exclaimed Wraith, shrugging Querion's hand off. "What would you do if you were me? If it were Timber who was captured? Or Mimi? Slag it. I must do something. I... I..."
The swordsman stood unmoving, stunned as he felt the impact of Wraith's words. He suddenly felt a wrenching in his insides, a tearing in his spark, as he replaced Rhapsody with Timber. It definitely was not something pleasant. Querion turned to look at Buckshot, noticing that the rottweiler looked equally uneasy. But even if he were in the young wolf-bot's shoes, there was little he could do right now. Rushing in unprepared would be the most foolish thing to do. Grapple had one up, but now the fight had gotten personal.
"Come on! The little songbird can take care of herself. She won't let that mutha-fooking turtle get to her. You gotta have more faith in her," consoled Buckshot, dragging Wraith away from the Lightning Corps barracks.
"Yea," added Querion. "And Jungle will think of something, won't you Jungle?"
[Elsewhere – Gual and Metallicron’s Position]
Metallicron raised a hand and gestured to the busy scene in front of him. “I know that it doesn’t look like much,” he began, “But what you’re seeing is history in the making,” A few meters away a competent looking tech ‘bot glanced a the wall chronometer and flipped off his work station. He rose quickly and exited the room.
“Funny,” Gaul replied flatly, “From here history looks like a bunch of computer technicians,”
The parrot ‘bot shook his head disapprovingly. But he looked up, still smiling. “You know, I’d almost forgotten how infuriatingly blunt you can be. It’s a wonder that I put up with you as long as I did. Back when we were both in the military, that is,”
Gaul smirked. It was an odd gesture for him – something reserved for old friends. Most of the people he interacted with never got to see that side of him. “Take it or leave it,” he quipped.
“Oh, I’ll take it,” Metallicron said chuckling. “I most certainly will. I only wish I could get a dozen more of you. We need all the help we can get,”
“Help with what, though. You still haven’t told me anything that would make heads or tails of this entire set-up,” Gaul frowned. As he looked on a pair of ‘bots glanced at the clock. Like the first they stood and exited the room. Perhaps it was the end of their shift. Oddly, though, no one had come to replace them.
Beside him, Metallicron shifted uneasily. “It’s...a bit difficult to sum up. Primus knows I’m a hell of a talker, but for this, I just…” The parrot turned and looked Gaul straight in the optics. “For now, think of it like this. Do you ever look back on the stuff you did in the military?”
Gaul shook his head. “If you mean did I ever get all teary eyed or bitter about any of it, then no. You know as well as I do that they train you to look past the morality of an individual situation and do what you’re told. ‘Bots mostly die if you act any way else,”
Metallicron pursed his lips. “Not exactly the response I was looking for, but it stems from the same problem. Why train like that? Why ignore the fact that what you’re doing may be morally bankrupt? The answer is because if you sat there and though about it at ally, you’d realize that the whole situation was fubar. I did a lot of thinking after my discharge, and you know what? I can’t think of but one or two times in my entire career that I was helping to do the right thing. The rest of it…the rest of it was just wrong. It’s a very disturbing thing, coming to the conclusion that most of your life has been an amoral waste of time,”
“I don’t follow,” Gaul said softly.
The parrot ‘bot ran a hand through his plumage in frustration. Gaul was his friend, and he didn’t want to give his friend the company pitch. He tried a different approach. “The Conformist movement is about ending our problems,” he said. “It’s just as simple as that. You and I, we fought long and hard for a military that existed primarily to guard against ‘The Predacon Threat’ or ‘Decepticon Extremism’. Primus, I can still remember those vids they showed in basic…” Gaul emitted a short laugh. Metallicron continued. “The point is, we’re one of the most technologically advanced races in the known universe, and instead of fighting for the common good, we end up fighting against each other. And that’s not right in my book. We’re all of us Cybertronians – ‘Bot, ‘Con, Maxi, or Pred. That’s the real drive behind the Conformist movement. We’re trying to start something here that will bring everyone together as one instead of dividing up into armed camps based solely on faction. Am I making any more sense?”
“A little,” Gaul confirmed. “From what you say though, it’s clear that there’s much more to the issue. Perhaps we could discuss it some other time?”
Metallicron smiled. “Consider it done,” he replied. “If you really want to get a feel for what we’re trying to accomplish here, you should come to the rally tonight. I’ve noticed you watching the support staff leave to get ready. That’s where they’re all going. It’s scheduled to start in about two hours. The entire movement will be there. Jonas is speaking,”
“I will. And I’ll relay your message to my crew as well,” Gaul guarded against asking any questions about the enigmatic Conformist leader. It would be suspicious to do so. He’d just have to see the guy in person later that evening and judge for himself.
“Speaking of your crew,” Metallicron interjected, “How are they getting along? I trust they got settled in nicely?”
“Very much so,” the gray ‘bot confirmed. “Exceptional barracks. Better than what we’re used to on the Penance,”
“Excellent,” Metallicron stopped for a moment. He appeared to be considering something. “Tell you what,” he said at last. “Let me try and work some magic on the boss, I think I can get your crew a good place near the front. It’s just not the same seeing Jonas speak over the vid screen. The guy’s amazing. You should really be up close. How about it?”
A warning flag shot up in Gaul’s head. But he didn’t see as how he could refuse. They might need Metallicrons help in the near future. No sense in alienating a friend for going out of his way to get them courtside tickets to a Confromist demonstration. “Sure,” he said simply. “That would be great,”
Metallicron shot him another winning smile. “Perfect. Have your crew meet me at your barracks at 2100, and we’ll go from there. I’ve got to do some errands right now, but I promise I’ll catch up with you later,” Gaul nodded. “Great. It’s good to seen you again, Gaul. I hope that you stick around for a while. Big things are happening. Big things!” The parrot gave a quick Maximal salute and walked off.
Gaul looked at the computer room, now almost empty, save for a lone security ‘bot in the corner. He turned and walked out himself. As he left the building he couldn’t help feeling that the proverbial s--- was about to hit the fan. Little did he know that it already had.
"Alright, I'll stay here," Caska finally said, grudgingly. It looked like it was going to take every single one of Wraith's buddies to keep him from doing something stupid, so it made sense for her to help keep watch. Though hiding in the shadows really wasn't her style.
Trance finished his third beer of the night, waitin for the other to get back. He had stayed out of the bar fight and stayed behind when everyone else left for wome reason. It had been a long time since they left, so Trance set down the glass and left the bar, heading back to the barracks.
Weede and Rubmur glanced at each other, then up at the big Bot.
"Well, er, I was-" Rubmur started.
"He was, um, teaching her what a bad dancer he is, and what a good dancer you are in comparison, dude!" Weede finished.
"I am NOT a bad dancer!" Rubmur replied, turning to face him.
"You're the worst dancing dude ever!" Weede replied, facing him.
"Oh really? Maybe you'll see what good footwork I have when I shove one of my feet up your skid!"
"Try it, I'll kick your butt Crouching Junkion, Hidden Vehicon style, bam bam shnikkity snooch!"
The two began grappling, fighting and throwing punches that missed, as the big Bots looked at them oddly. The two reared back at the same time, then turned and dealt a double punch to the big Bot's face. He stumbled backwards and Weede and Rubmur ducked and ran in between his legs, shoving him from behind. He fell face-first through a table. Weede and Rubmur high-fived, then raced out the door as the other two Bots chased angrily after them.
--------------
Filch and Penji turned and blinked as Weede and Rubmur ran by, pursued by two large angry Bots. Filch shrugged and Penji flapped a flipper, and Filch turned to him.
"Unbelievable salesmanship! I sold five of them! FIVE!! I usually have difficulties selling one! You, sir, are a born salesman!"
"Penji have fine-tuned grip of demographics. Tee-hee."
"Riiight. Thank you for your assistance. Good night now."
Filch turned to leave and was stopped by a flipper slapping his leg. He turned and looked down at Penji.
"Penji want cut." the penguin told him.
"Eh? How cute...sorry, friend, money is for big Bots, not waterlogged avians."
A time and a place for everything...
Maybe a small force could penetrait the building undected and get Rhapsody out. Maybe. Maybe Wraith would be successful in 'phasing in', grabbing the girl and getting out. Maybe. Maybe everyone was sobber enough to take on the heavily armed Conformists. Maybe.
A time and a place for everything...
The fact of the matter is, Grapple didn't just grab the song bird cause he was looking for a good time; he knew who see was. Knew she was the leader of the resistance movement that brought him down, two stellar cycles ago. He was going try and make her talk.
Chances are; Rhapsody wouldn't. Still, the frog would try. Though, chances are; Rhapsody wouldn't. Chances are, his buddies in there might think him a bit off his rocker - a bit paranold that a team of Maximals would travel all this way just to nab him - chances are they wouldn't take his claims seriously. Unless Rhasody talked. Chances are; she wouldn't.
A time and a place for everything...
But busting in there and getting the song bird out would add credit to Grapple's claims. He was probably in there now, ranting about who Rhapsody was. Not too many would take him seriously, likely, though if a team of Maximals did liberate her, then they'd buy Grapple's tale, thus - ending the task forces's cover - ending the mission - ending everyone's life.
A time and a place for everything...
But if Croaker was in there, then he'd back Grapple. But likely he wasn't, since the pair were in different sections of the Conformist Movement - different sections which hated one and other.
A time and a place for everything...
"I said fall back." Jungle re-interated, turning from the building Grapple went into. "Grapple knows 'bots will come for her, thus he's going to hunker down in there and not go anywhere. We need to re-group and re-organize. The song bird will be free. Just not tonight. And don't try me Wraith. You either come back base online or in stasis lock. You're call."
For the first time the dark warrior actually realizes that a good portion of the task force was involved in a relationship. He was aware - just never really sunk in. The mixing of business and pleasure. Jungle decided to resevere judgment as the barriaks came into site...
“So I’m going to ask again: why are you going out with him?”
“You didn’t see him at his best. That is, when he’s not drunk and making lewd remarks to strange women.” Rita sighed. “It’s weird, we do fine most of the time. Talk, see flicks, play games, stage major operations of organized crime. Then out of the blue he does something like this, only generally worse. It makes me nervous.”
“It’d make anyone nervous.” The bat replied.
The two women were flying and hovering back from the bar. Rita had been loath to miss a good bar fight, but really hadn’t been in the mood and decided to escort Dimdawn to her portion of the barracks. The area wasn’t that dangerous, but Rita needed someone to talk to that wasn’t pre-pubescent or male.
“What?” Rita asked, realizing Dimdawn had just said something that had been drowned out by narration.
“I said why do you think?”
“No idea. When I ask he hedges until something blows up and then I forget about it.”
Dimdawn nodded, then paused. “Until something blows up?”
“It happens pretty often around the ship. Comes from the company we keep.”
Penji rolled his optics. He hated when stuff like this forced him to transform to robot mode. He did, and began speaking with a slightly gruff, matter of fact voice that contrasted starkly with the cartoonish voice most expected from him, and the smooth talking voice he had used a few times in making the sales.
"Ahem, I said I'm taking a cut. You said yourself that my salesbotship increased your sales over fivefold, and that was done at no small opportunity cost to myself, I might add."
"Opportunity cost? You've got a few too many feathers in that processor, friend."
"There were any number of things I could have been doing tonight, from beating up Preds to picking up femmes to having a good meal to stealing heavy weapons, that would have been more rewarding than doing sales without a commission... of, say.. sixty percent."
"SIXTY?!" Filch nearly coughed up his drink- and he hadn't had a drink in three hours. "I mean, fine, 10, maybe but-"
"50 even."
"20."
"45, no lower."
"One third."
"...."
"Take it or leave it."
"35 and a canister of those Emmeluan spices you were talking about."
"Fine, deal."
Penji reverted back to beast mode, and accepted a bunch of credits and the spices. "Pleasure doing business!" he said, as he turned and waddled off at a brisk pace. Filch was about to ask where he was headed, but then spotted one of the femmes they had sold to, waiting in the distance. He'd wondered why she wanted two buffers.
[Traul, Andronicus – Yet Elsewhere]
The small chamber was smartly and comfortably appointed, if a bit sparse in furnishing. Though the lighting had been dimmed almost to non existence, it was an office of sorts. There was a heavy metal faux-wood desk. There was a black synthetic leather chair – high backed. The floor was covered with velvety off white pile carpeting, walls and ceiling almost perfectly matched for color. There were no windows, only vid-screens. Twelve of them in all, grouped in the middle of the wall facing the desk. Each displayed a type of information. Jonas sat quietly, fingers steepled in the darkness, watching and listening to them all.
Metallicron appeared in the doorway. His blue and silver features took on strange colors in the light of the multiple screens. He waited for Jonas to notice, or perhaps more accurately, acknowledge him. He always did…eventually. Metallicron knew it was not his place to break the Conformist leader’s concentration. So he waited, and minutes passed.
Finally there came a voice. It was disturbingly clear. ‘Crystal’ is about the only way to describe its clarity and refined texture. It was the voice of confidence. It was the voice of command.
“Is everything ready?” the voice asked.
Metallicron watched the flickering vid-light play off the incongruous shape of his commander. He nodded silently, knowing that Jonas would notice the gesture. Jonas, it seemed, noticed everything.
“Excellent,” the shadow replied. “Collect my guard. We shall depart shortly,”
“I will inform them, sir,” the parrot said dutifully. “I had though to make a slight change to this evening’s honor guard, however. Instead of the normal line of Lightning Corpsmen, a new unit, just integrated earlier today. You had expressed interest in assuring the non-aligned portion of the movement that you trust them as much as the Lightning Corps, and value their presence. I believe this to be an excellent way to accomplish that goal. Your guard can take care of any real problems. The Honor Guard has never been strictly necessary. It could be put to more efficient use in that fashion.
There was a pause.
“You have selected a group?” the voice rumbled.
“I have,” Metallicron said.
“Very well. You may leave,”
Metallicron nodded and departed immediately. With a slightly triumphant smile, he strode off in the direction of Gaul’s barracks. He had gotten his friend and his friend’s soldiers the best seats in the house – right up on stage.
Rubmur and Weede flew past Filch and Penji with seemingly ease. The two bots that followed them were the cronies of the one who had earlier been pushed through a table. The two trailed Maximals eagerly turned the corner of The Satyr. There they found a dumpster that was open and they leapt into it, or as best a lemur and sloth can leap into a half opened dumpster.
Inside, both got a chance to catch their breath.
“That was good,” Rubmur said.
“Yeah,” Weede replied, the two high fiving again.
“I especially liked the part where you said you didn’t like my dancing,” Rubmur said, “Ingenious!”
“Huh? I really don’t like your dancing.” Weede calmly replied.
“But I’m Lord of the Dance, you’ve got to like my dancing.” Rubmur said, worriedly.
“No I don’t, I guess I’m just not much of a dancing person,” Weede said, beginning to investigate a piece of unidentifiable food.
“Oh yeah, well, I don’t like your, uh” Rubmur stammered, “Your ‘loading.” Rubmur finally put out, using his hands as mock quotation marks on the word ‘loading.’
“Why don’t you like my ‘loading’?” Weede asked, using quotation marks as well.
“I guess I’m not much of a loading person.” Rubmur said smugly.
The two sat in the uncomfortable silence for a moment before apologizing and ending in a brief hug. The embrace was brief as the two bots appeared above them, looking into the dumpster and laughing.
Gaul headed back to the barraks to go over some more stuff they had laying around and reports from the officers of the ship during their trip. he was quickly interuptted by Jungle. "We need to talk." he said with a look that could have frozen a bot where he stood.
"Sure." Gaul said noticing his crew behind him looking more then angry. he moved back towards the small room he had set up as his office in the back of the barraks. "Whats the proble..." Gaul was broken in mid sentence by a runner from Metalicron.
"Pardon me sir but the commander wanted me to give this to you." The runner handed it to him and sprinted off. Probably off to the ceremony.
"Go ahead." Gaul said reading the letter.
"It appears that someone form the lightning corps has Kidnapped my second in command, Rhapsody." Gaul was stunned from both the letter and Jungles news hitting him at the same time.
"$%&#" He said shaking his head. Jungle was a bit taken aback from his so far refined commanders outburst. Gaul sighed and looked at Jungle seemingly steaming angry. "When did this happen?"
"Just a little bit ago, also it was one of our targets Grapple. He has taken her to the lightning corps headquarters." Gaul could have put his hand through the wall at this point.
"Alright, he won't do anything for the present moment, he will try and use it against us. For now we have to get to this ceremony." Gaul said angryly. Jungle cocked his head to the side as Gaul tossed the letter to him.
"@#$&." Jungle said tossing the letter into the garbage.
The disguarded letter read.
Good News Gaul. I have gotten your team in charge of security for tonights events, you guys will be right on the stage with Jonas. Get there is soon as possible.
Metalicron
"SOmebody go find Solarflare now and Jungle call everyone intot he base." Gaul said walking into the barraks and grabbing his war hammer.
"I'm on it." Buckshot said.
Vinoc walked back towards the bar, the fight had been interesting, but not worth getting involved in, to easy. However, he soon saw a femme that looked strikingly familiar...
*******
Rudau was also headed towards base, being careful to stay just ahead of Vinoc. Soon, soon. thought Rudau.
*******
Tundra was sitting in the base, quite bored, but she hadn't wanted to go bar hopping that night. So she just waited for Retro.
If one was at a certain alleyway right about now, which no one was, one would have heard the following:
Female voice: Oh.. ooh.. wow, I've never done it like that before oohhaaaIIIEEE!"
Silence.
Several metal joints being clicked into place.
Something large being cut up on a cutting board.
A while lot of water boiling.
Splashing.
More things being cut, more quickly.
A little more light splashing.
Sizzling.
=======
Caska blinked as a signal to return to base came in on her com device.
"This override the stakeout?" she quietly radioed back to Jungle.
Weede and Rubmur looked up from within the dumpster with wide optics as the big Bots looked down at them.
"Uh..."
"Er..."
"Hi dudes! We're selling these fine pre-used cans and stuff!"
"Would you like to buy some? If you don't want that, we have some lovely congealed produce and carbon-oxidized metal products-"
"C'mere!!"
WHAM
CRASH
THUMP
SLAM
WHAP
THWACK
POW
ZOK
BOOM
.....
A short time later, hearing the transmission, Weede and Rubmur limped out of the alley and made their way back to base.
-------------
Buckshot hopped over a garbage can and made his way into the barracks, looking for Solarflare.
"Yo 'Flare! Helloooo! C'mon, man, Jungle needs ya! Solarflare?" he called.
He found the door to Solarflare's quarters and listened through it. He heard water flowing, and a giggle. He shrugged. Taking a bath, maybe? That Solarflare sure did have a feminine laugh tho. He tested the door, seeing it unlocked, and walked in.
" 'Flare! Jungle wants-"
Buckshot stopped short, and his gum fell out of his mouth and landed on the floor with a tiny sound that could have been heard across the room in the silence.
Mimi looked up from her embrace with Solarflare within the hot tub. Their lips, in mid-make-out, slowly pulled apart, like a pair of suction cups blasted with water. Buckshot strived to make noises with his mouth, and failed.
"Uh...hi, buddy." Solarflare finally managed.
Buckshot didn't, or couldn't reply. He simply reached over his shoulder, drew his baseball bat, and began slowly walking to the hot tub, face composed.
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