robothell | [ INTRO LOG ]

You don't know how you got here. One minute you were walking, sleeping, maybe dead -- then you're here, your feet suddenly carrying you down an empty street. Where's here?

Any Cybertronian would recognize this as their home planet, Cybertron, but it's not a Cybertron they've ever known. It has all the familiar hallmarks, but none of the specifics -- the city isn't one anyone here could identify, and even at a glance it's obvious that no one's set foot on the planet's surface in hundreds of years. The city and its surrounding areas all bear the marks of devastating war, of dust and rust collected over centuries. With no one in sight -- right at first, anyway -- there's plenty to explore. In fact, if you start walking, you'll find that your feet may just carry you in one particular direction.

A) The crater.
On one edge of the city is a massive crater left by some wartime weapon that seems to have taken out a large chunk of the surrounding metropolitan area. At the center of the crater it's broken through the surface of the terrain to reveal what looks like it might be a promising energon deposit. There is some strange but native vegetation growing around the edges, too, that no Cybertronian would be able to identify -- small, metallic, brittle-looking sprouts that bear a curiously organic-looking fruit of some kind that doesn't look like it's intended for consumption by any natives of the planet. In one rocky nook of the crater, light catches on the surface of a pool of water, which seems strangely out of place on Cybertron. On closer inspection, it seems that somehow an underground water source has formed a spring in the crater.

B) The center of the city.
If you follow where your feet seem to want to carry you, you'll find yourself in the middle of the ruined city. It seems that the center of the city was once home to a massive forum, and some of the pillars and structures still stand. At the very center of the forum is a massive, elaborately constructed fountain, although it has now long since run dry of whatever used to fill it. One of the low, inner walls of the forum has a terminal embedded in its surface, although it looks curiously ancient, out of place with the rest of the city, and unlike the rest of the technology still left around, there doesn't seem to be any way to power it on or operate it. There are a few scattered pools of water and a few of the strange metallic plants in the city, too, but they're not quite as plentiful as in the crater.

The planet was obviously once home to a massive network of communication relays, but those have all been long since destroyed. However, with the bits and pieces left behind and a few determined minds, it wouldn't be too hard to build a working, if rudimentary, one...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"This is good, thank you."

Yeah, so, there are certain things big trucks aren't supposed to do and float is one of them. This would be less of a concern if it weren't for his bad knee, but all Aftermath can think about is how much it'd suck if he was dropped right about now.

The fact that he can see the growing distance between his feet and the ground doesn't really help.

"Relax, I've got you."

It's the one thing he's confident about, for the most part. A lot of people say he can't hold his forcefield, but truth be told he could do a lot of things if he had the right focus.

Sobriety helped.

"So...you're uh...pretty friendly for a Con."

"Technically, I'm a deserter and most Decepticons would disagree on the matter of me still being Decepticon." He's answered the question enough times that it just comes out as-a-matter-of-factly. "And I've been a deserter for a long while now. Found out that being nice to people got me a bit further than being a xenophobic afthead. Made some friends. Got a career as a journalist. Progressed with life."

"Now that you've had your extremely tactful question," he tilts his helm in what was possibly a smile. "How's post-war life going for you?"

...

Well, that's one way to answer the question. Not that Trailcutter's going to judge. After all, the war was over for him. As long as this guy isn't trying to tear out his voicebox, no problem for him.

"Well, the unaligned came back and hate us and the Decepticons hate us and Megatron's the captain--CO-captain of our ship..."

...

'Things could be worse."

"Hmmm, well, the neutrals have a lot of reasons to hate us and plenty of them are justified," Aftermath murmurs. "Are there any particular grievances they've aired that you remember from your encounters with them?"

And, well, Decepticons have a very long history of not being on good terms with Autobots to begin with, what with the founding security forces upholding the Functionist regime. Aftermath leaves that out of the discussion for the time being though.

"Megatron? CO-Captain? With whom?"

Time to be very, very nosy indeed.

"Get off the planet. That was the biggest one. You know...the planet we ended up saving."

He's not as venomous as say...Prowl, but still, it hurt. That same persecution he got all too used to resurfacing. The forcefield is nearly to the top of the crater by now, Trailcutter having to hold his hands up to continue with it.

"Ah...Rodimus. Our original captain, but Optimus put Megatron on there too."

"I'm honestly surprised any of them would still want Cybertron." Aftermath certainly hadn't. He'd been prepared to go there to hunt down people for information and then leave when the assignment was over. "The planet is a deadly wasteland from what I hear. Plus, most neutrals are at least four millions years old and have a lot of accumulated wealth to their names. Out-living organic business competitors has its benefits."

Religious pilgrimages then? Or something a bit more sinister? Cybertron was a wasteland with little government and order. A planet ripe for being exploited by individuals with less than good intentions.

Trailcutter's answer to his second questions draws Aftermath out of his speculations.

"Rodimus Prime? What a peculiar choice. I'd have thought Optimus would have sent Megatron off with someone more sensible. Like Magnus, perhaps."

"Yeah, well...it's our home. We fought four million years for it, we should at least do something."

A part of him flinches. You've done enough. That's what Metalhawk told them, wasn't it? In a way, it was true, and yet so hurtful. Because in the end, something worse could have happened.

"Oh, Magnus is there too. He's second-in-command."

"It's a difficult situation," Aftermath agrees quietly, reaching out for the edge of the crater as it draws nearer. "From their perspective, we've driven them away from their home and livelihoods. From Autobot and Decepticon perspective, we think they've come back to take what we've fought so long to protect. The solution is something none of the factions are willing to come together to discuss."

"Which is why Starscream's divine prophecy worked so well in getting him his new position, didn't it?" He peers down at Trailcutter. "Divinity decided where people could not; Metroplex as a herald of our most widely worshiped god, an external deciding factor that would be accepted by many. Whether or not it holds had been something I'd intended to find out." Current delays aside.

The answer to the latter question makes the truck blink. "Why was Magnus not appointed Captain?"

[ INTRO LOG ]

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