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wyntir_knightTitle: The Devil You Know
Series: G1 universe, focusing on Original characters
Rating: R
Summary: In the early days of the civil war on Cybertron, Sentinel Prime authorized several refugee vessels to take Neutrals away from the planet in hopes that they could start peaceful colonies where they would be safe. Many of these refugees were never heard from again; lost to us through time and distance. But history does record the fate of one of the vessels. The Stormchaser was three orns away from its destination when it was shot down by Decepticons in an act of cowardice and deceit. There were no survivors. That is what history tells us. But in this case, history is wrong.
Author's Note: Day 29. Less than 1,000 words to go. *Whew!*
This chapter will be expanded upon in the edit, but right now my brain refuses to provide any more information.
49225 / 50000 words. 98% done!
Chapter 20
Updraft moved slowly through the Grand Entrance of the darkened building. It had obviously been an important place at one point, finely carved and elegantly appointed.
“I think this might have been the Governor’s Palace,” Discourse said reverently. “It must have been beautiful once.”
“Well, whatever it was, I’m sure that it must have a communications hub,” Updraft replied as he continued to lead them through the hall, looking for a likely door or archway.
“Are you sure we would be looking for a comm. room?” Circuit asked.
“What do you mean?” Discourse said distractedly as she examined a carved relief of a strange ceremony.
“Well, what are the chances that the comm still works?” Circuit explained. “I mean, this place was abandoned back in the Golden Age. How many vorns ago was that. Wouldn’t it make more sense to find a spaceport?”
“How do you figure that we’re any more likely to find a working ship?” Discourse said as she followed Updraft through an open door.
“I just figure it’d be easier to fix a shuttle than an interstellar communications station,” Circuit shrugged.
“While that is quite possible that the she space port would be the better choice, our orders were to find a communications hub,” Updraft said as he checked a room that looked as if it may have once been an office. “We’re going to do as we’re told, and that’s final.”
“Hey, it was just a suggestion, nothing more,” Circuit replied nonchalantly, spreading his hands in acquiescence.
They continued to walk through the halls, checking room after room, each just as splendid as the last. It was obvious that this building was once a true site to behold, blending all the best of Cybertronian architecture and the exotic beauty of the organic world around them. The floors were made of plate steel, but there was a beautiful inlay of polished stone creating a flowing pattern along the edges of the corridor. The walls seemed to be made of folded steel, polished to a burnished shine. The effect was almost like the wall was flowing, like it had a living grain all to itself. As they moved through the hall the wall seemed to move with them in a hypnotic dance totally like anything they had ever seen before.
Circuit tore his optics away from the patterns in the wall and turned his attention back to Updraft.
“You know, we could find the comm and then find the shuttles,” he suggested. “I mean, if the system’s fragged, then we could get a shuttle working, go up past the troposphere, and get a message out that way.”
Updraft stopped and turned toward Circuit, his optics narrowed dangerously.
“And what then?” he asked.
“What do you mean, what then?” Curcuit replied. “Then we leave. We get off this Primus forsaken mud ball, find help and send a rescue team back for the others.”
“Did you actually just suggest that we abandon them here?” Updraft asked, approaching the programmer slowly. “That is what you just said, right?”
“Well, no, not abandon,” Circuit hedged as he backed away from the insenced Decepticon. “We would just leave for a bit. We’d come back later. With help –URK!”
Updraft sped forward, lightning fast and pinned Circuit to the wall, pressing his forearm into the programmer’s throat.
“We will not leave them behind,” Updraft bit out. “Decepticons do not leave their own behind! Am I making myself clear?”
“Perfectly,” Circuit croaked as he felt his neck begin to buckle under the pressure.
“And what about you, Discourse?” Updraft asked, not letting Circuit go. “Will I be having any problems with you?”
“No! Of course not!” Discourse cried. “Just let him go. Please! We’ll go to the comm. Room and then back to the education centre. Whatever you want!”
Updraft looked at her deeply, gauging her intent, then let Circuit go. Without a look back, he continued down the hall, allowing Discourse to pick Circuit up off the ground.
The three continued through the complex slowly, checking each room in passing, looking for anything that might have once been a communications room of any sort. Finally after a few minutes that felt like hours, they reached a large round room. The space was highly domed, looking uncannily similar to the Chamber of the Ancients back on Cybertron. Theatre seating lined flowed up and out from a central platform on which sat a holographic communications system.
“I think that’s what we’re looking for,” Circuit said as he approached the platform.
“That is the strangest looking comm. System I’ve ever seen,” Discourse said as she looked about the room. “What’s with all the seating?”
“It’s an old design, dating from the Golden Age,” Circuit explained as he looked at the control systems on the side of the dais. “It was intended to be used for mass communications. Like between the Council here and the Chamber of the Ancients back on Cybertron.”
“So it will have enough power for what we need?” Updraft asked.
“If it’s functional, then definitely,” Circuit replied. “Hey! There’s a message in the buffer!”
“There is?” Updraft said, coming to stand next to the programmer.
“Yeah, see?” Circuit said as he pointed to a flashing green light. “That’s what this means. Should I activate it?”
“It’s just a message?” Updraft asked.
“It should be,” Circuit replied. “I mean, I don’t see any weapons or booby traps.”
“They wouldn’t be very effective if they were obvious now would they?” Updraft admonished. But when he looked around, he saw nothing that seemed untoward. “Go ahead and activate it. But be careful.”
Circuit stretched out a finger and gently pressed a series of buttons. His body was rigid throughout, as if he was fully prepared to jump away at the slightest sign of a problem.
Systems within the dais began to hum softly and a vibration began to fill the room. Louder and louder it grew until it became almost painful and Updraft was prepared to order them all from the room. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the noise stopped, and a light in the center of the dais flickered on. It spun outward in a strobe like display, until in coalesced into a single bean, and from that beam, a figure emerged. From the Golden Age, a mech stepped forward and raised his hand in greeting to the room.
Series: G1 universe, focusing on Original characters
Rating: R
Summary: In the early days of the civil war on Cybertron, Sentinel Prime authorized several refugee vessels to take Neutrals away from the planet in hopes that they could start peaceful colonies where they would be safe. Many of these refugees were never heard from again; lost to us through time and distance. But history does record the fate of one of the vessels. The Stormchaser was three orns away from its destination when it was shot down by Decepticons in an act of cowardice and deceit. There were no survivors. That is what history tells us. But in this case, history is wrong.
Author's Note: Day 29. Less than 1,000 words to go. *Whew!*
This chapter will be expanded upon in the edit, but right now my brain refuses to provide any more information.
Updraft moved slowly through the Grand Entrance of the darkened building. It had obviously been an important place at one point, finely carved and elegantly appointed.
“I think this might have been the Governor’s Palace,” Discourse said reverently. “It must have been beautiful once.”
“Well, whatever it was, I’m sure that it must have a communications hub,” Updraft replied as he continued to lead them through the hall, looking for a likely door or archway.
“Are you sure we would be looking for a comm. room?” Circuit asked.
“What do you mean?” Discourse said distractedly as she examined a carved relief of a strange ceremony.
“Well, what are the chances that the comm still works?” Circuit explained. “I mean, this place was abandoned back in the Golden Age. How many vorns ago was that. Wouldn’t it make more sense to find a spaceport?”
“How do you figure that we’re any more likely to find a working ship?” Discourse said as she followed Updraft through an open door.
“I just figure it’d be easier to fix a shuttle than an interstellar communications station,” Circuit shrugged.
“While that is quite possible that the she space port would be the better choice, our orders were to find a communications hub,” Updraft said as he checked a room that looked as if it may have once been an office. “We’re going to do as we’re told, and that’s final.”
“Hey, it was just a suggestion, nothing more,” Circuit replied nonchalantly, spreading his hands in acquiescence.
They continued to walk through the halls, checking room after room, each just as splendid as the last. It was obvious that this building was once a true site to behold, blending all the best of Cybertronian architecture and the exotic beauty of the organic world around them. The floors were made of plate steel, but there was a beautiful inlay of polished stone creating a flowing pattern along the edges of the corridor. The walls seemed to be made of folded steel, polished to a burnished shine. The effect was almost like the wall was flowing, like it had a living grain all to itself. As they moved through the hall the wall seemed to move with them in a hypnotic dance totally like anything they had ever seen before.
Circuit tore his optics away from the patterns in the wall and turned his attention back to Updraft.
“You know, we could find the comm and then find the shuttles,” he suggested. “I mean, if the system’s fragged, then we could get a shuttle working, go up past the troposphere, and get a message out that way.”
Updraft stopped and turned toward Circuit, his optics narrowed dangerously.
“And what then?” he asked.
“What do you mean, what then?” Curcuit replied. “Then we leave. We get off this Primus forsaken mud ball, find help and send a rescue team back for the others.”
“Did you actually just suggest that we abandon them here?” Updraft asked, approaching the programmer slowly. “That is what you just said, right?”
“Well, no, not abandon,” Circuit hedged as he backed away from the insenced Decepticon. “We would just leave for a bit. We’d come back later. With help –URK!”
Updraft sped forward, lightning fast and pinned Circuit to the wall, pressing his forearm into the programmer’s throat.
“We will not leave them behind,” Updraft bit out. “Decepticons do not leave their own behind! Am I making myself clear?”
“Perfectly,” Circuit croaked as he felt his neck begin to buckle under the pressure.
“And what about you, Discourse?” Updraft asked, not letting Circuit go. “Will I be having any problems with you?”
“No! Of course not!” Discourse cried. “Just let him go. Please! We’ll go to the comm. Room and then back to the education centre. Whatever you want!”
Updraft looked at her deeply, gauging her intent, then let Circuit go. Without a look back, he continued down the hall, allowing Discourse to pick Circuit up off the ground.
The three continued through the complex slowly, checking each room in passing, looking for anything that might have once been a communications room of any sort. Finally after a few minutes that felt like hours, they reached a large round room. The space was highly domed, looking uncannily similar to the Chamber of the Ancients back on Cybertron. Theatre seating lined flowed up and out from a central platform on which sat a holographic communications system.
“I think that’s what we’re looking for,” Circuit said as he approached the platform.
“That is the strangest looking comm. System I’ve ever seen,” Discourse said as she looked about the room. “What’s with all the seating?”
“It’s an old design, dating from the Golden Age,” Circuit explained as he looked at the control systems on the side of the dais. “It was intended to be used for mass communications. Like between the Council here and the Chamber of the Ancients back on Cybertron.”
“So it will have enough power for what we need?” Updraft asked.
“If it’s functional, then definitely,” Circuit replied. “Hey! There’s a message in the buffer!”
“There is?” Updraft said, coming to stand next to the programmer.
“Yeah, see?” Circuit said as he pointed to a flashing green light. “That’s what this means. Should I activate it?”
“It’s just a message?” Updraft asked.
“It should be,” Circuit replied. “I mean, I don’t see any weapons or booby traps.”
“They wouldn’t be very effective if they were obvious now would they?” Updraft admonished. But when he looked around, he saw nothing that seemed untoward. “Go ahead and activate it. But be careful.”
Circuit stretched out a finger and gently pressed a series of buttons. His body was rigid throughout, as if he was fully prepared to jump away at the slightest sign of a problem.
Systems within the dais began to hum softly and a vibration began to fill the room. Louder and louder it grew until it became almost painful and Updraft was prepared to order them all from the room. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the noise stopped, and a light in the center of the dais flickered on. It spun outward in a strobe like display, until in coalesced into a single bean, and from that beam, a figure emerged. From the Golden Age, a mech stepped forward and raised his hand in greeting to the room.
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Date: 30 Nov 2007 13:26 (UTC)