[ INTRO LOG ]

[robotsatan]

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...

Comments

A- The Crater

[sparkwhisperer]

The last thing he remembered he was with his team, laying into some sorry spark on the list.

Tarn jerks awake, instantly on his peds. Where the frag is he. He whirls around, frame creaking from stress. He might think that his memories of what he was doing previously was a dream, if not for the energon splattered across his chassis.

No but honestly, where the pit is he? He transforms, rolling over to the center of the crater where a pool of water has gathered. Was he on Cybertron? He transforms again, kneeling to poke a finger at one of the strangely organic growths sprouting around the crater. Standing, he glances around. Where is the rest of his Division? If he was here surely one of his other compatriots had to be near by. He sends a ping to their comm network but receives only static in response.

Tarn's audiol picks up a muffled noise behind him. He directs power to his fusion cannon before whirling around and aiming it in the direction of the disturbance.

[warcorrespondent]

Ah, it seems he's woken up to his possible slow and painful death here. He hadn't even managed more than thirty steps.

Aftermath idly wonders if his name had ever ended up on The List; it seemed a possibility. He's pissed off a lot of higher ranked mechs and deserted his post to a be a journalist. Good mechs had gotten onto that list for less.

He could run. He wouldn't get far though, between the bad knee and various chunks of his alt mode missing. Pity, really, since he probably could have outrun Tarn on four wheels; Tarn was a tank and one without the rest of his cadre or ship there for the moment.

Oh well.

Peering down the fusion canon barrels, Aftermath sighs quietly and greets, "Commander Tarn. I take it you've just awoken here as well?"

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn lowers his fusion cannon just slightly

"Ah, Deadbolt. Or is it Aftermath now?" He supposes it doesn't truly matter.

He keeps power directed to his cannon just incase, it's soft humming cutting through the silence that hangs thick in the air. But, ah,
Aftermath is on the list isn't he? But a quick blast from his fusion cannon simply won't do. This mech is a traitor after all; his death has to be art.

But first thing's first.

"You would assume correctly. And where exactly is here?" He sends another ping to his team with no luck. Where are they?

[warcorrespondent]

Tarn knew his name.

For some reason, that inspires quiet, resigned, amusement in Aftermath more than the expected dread. He carefully doesn't let that show, however. There were things he'd still like to do, and ticking Tarn off enough to get a swift and early death wasn't quite on the truck's agenda.

"I don't actually know, myself. I woke up to the same predicament just a few minutes ago." He nods his head at the city around them. "It appears to be Cybertron, but I do not recognize this city's skyline. The description doesn't match anything I've heard or seen from the homeworld recently either."

[sparkwhisperer]

Useless. Just as Tarn had guessed. He lets out a sort of put upon sigh, taking a measured step forward. Really, what else could he expect from a someone such as Aftermath.

If he's to be honest with himself, he can feel frustration start to well up under the surface. While the mech is being courteous, he is lacking a certain fear in him that Tarn has come to expect from a mech on the list. Best to put some back into him while he has the chance.

"Hmm. A pity. I was hoping perhaps you would find a way to prove your worth in this world. A foolish notion, I know." Tarn lowers his weapon fully, deciding he should search for someone who does know where they are and why. Best not to waste time.

"But, don't you worry, Aftermath. We'll work our way down to you eventually. There is such a disappointingly long list if names, after all. Best to keep on your toes though. It may not happen today, but don't for a moment think that we've forgotten."

[warcorrespondent]

Aftermath idly wonders what happened to his survival instincts when he finds himself biting back a particularly waspish comment about Tarn fairing better. The old mech tamps down on it quickly.

He steps back when Tarn steps forwards, letting his mangled knee take the weight it couldn't until he collapses with a pained hiss that wasn't really feigned. Look at him, so terrified of the big bad DJD officer that he just tripped over himself.

"I- I'm sorry, Commander," Aftermath gasps through the pain, hunching over, hands flat against the ground and looking like the cowed and pathetic traitor that he was. "I'll find more information about this place as soon as I can, I swear."

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn smirks under his mask as Aftermath collapses in a heap. Much better. He takes another measured step forward, kneeling down so that he is eye to eye with the other mech.

"Yes, you will...And perhaps if you can prove yourself to be useful, I may even bump you back a bit further on our roster, so to speak. Perhaps you can even earn a few extra years in the land of the functioning." Tarn claps a large hand on Aftermath's shoulder in a mendaciously friendly gesture. "Does that sound fair to you?" The last sentence digs brutally into the listeners spark like so many tiny needles; a taste of what is to come.

[towardspeace]

"Stand down, Tarn," says Megatron wearily. He doesn't know if news of his defection has reached the DJD by now, and even if it hasn't the symbol on his chest should clue him in after a moment or two – and he doesn't know how Tarn will take it, or have taken it, one way or the other – but he has every reason to hope that the order will halt him for a second regardless.

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn immediately falls to one knee, double fusion cannon falling silent.

A rare stutter spills from his lips as he scrambles for words "L-Lord Megatron! My apologies. I didn't realize..."

His eyes fall to the ground right before Megatron's feet, frame twisted Into the most humble bow. Unwilling to admit his disorientation to his esteemed leader, he elects to remain silent. Willing to accept whatever punishment he saw fit for his blunder. He clutches a fist to his chest, wishing he at least had the opportunity to clean the energon from his frame before a meeting with Megatron. It seems a bit uncouth to have a meeting still smeared with the innards of a traitor to the cause. But beggars can't be choosers he supposes.

"To what do I owe this honor?"

[towardspeace]

Ah. Averting his eyes. How very convenient. Megatron lets him stay down there, for the time being, to give himself some time to try to work out how to deal with this. It is, after all, distinctly unlikely that a mech who wears the symbol he's rejected on his literal actual face is going to take too well to his lord and master having replaced it with the Autobrand – the question is whether his status as the focus of Tarn's fanatical loyalty will spare him the brunt of the vengeance that he himself helped to instil, or if this most monumental of betrayals simply ignite it more fiercely than ever before.

"If I could answer that question, I wouldn't still be here," he replies. He casts a quick glance around the crater, but he doesn't keep his optics off Tarn for long. "What were you doing before you arrived on this world?"

[sparkwhisperer]

"Of Course sir." Tarn glances up "I was with my division before waking here. We had caught up to the latest traitor on the List and were handling it as you have commanded." It's only as he glances back down to the ground that he notices something...different.

An Autobrand. That's quite impossible, Megatron would never... He stares back up at Megatron from his position on the ground in shock. Surely this is a trick or a ploy to test Tarn's loyalty.

"My Lord, what is that on your chest?"

[towardspeace]

'In the process of dragging out the murder of a traitor for a gratuitously long time' doesn't really narrow things down very much – but Tarn's reaction to the Autobrand does, perhaps, slightly.

Megatron frowns. He's had to explain his situation to people here a number of times, but he suspects this may be the hardest.

"It has been... some time, since you received news of Cybertron, I take it."

[sparkwhisperer]

It has been a while. Tarn has been very busy, what with trying to track down Overlord and the seemingly endless list of traitors to address. The thought of contacting Cybertron has slipped his mind. His reports are almost exclusively to Megatron himself anyway.

And nobody there has made an effort to contact them either. Regardless Tarn's tanks are filled with icy dread as his eyes lock with the red brand on his leader's chest. There must be some logical explanation.

"I will admit...It has been some time since we have heard any word from Cybertron. Please, enlighten me my lord."

[aminerproblem]

Even with Tarn being covered in his Decepticon-themed regalia, Megatron didn't respond well to guns being pointed at his face. And since C-12, he's been finding this to be the case more and more often.

His own frame was built for hard labor, but was devoid of any weaponry he could point back with (not that attempting to compete with double fusion cannons was anywhere near approaching a good idea).

The only option left for him was to close the distance and use what was left - his hands. He leaps forward to attempt to shove the massive cannons out of his trajectory in the few seconds it took to power up.

[sparkwhisperer]

Before Tarn even has a chance to react he is being lunged at by a large mech, bearing a striking resemblance to Megatron from before the war. Really that's the only thing that stops him from blasting him straight through the chassis. Instead he dodges the charging mining frame, his double fusion cannon remaining locked on him until he can reconcile what is happening, where he is, and who this is. Any other mech and it might be a 'shoot first ask questions later' sort if situation. But someone who looks so similar to his esteemed leader gives him a bit more prudence.

"State your business and designation." He's too disoriented at this point to beat around the proverbial bush.

[aminerproblem]

Megatron finds himself devoid of cannon to grab and skids to a halt as this Decepticon moves around him. He takes a brief second to reassess the situation as he turns around to face his opponent.

It's clear enough from that little maneuver that whoever this was would be too skilled to take down physically. Megatron was no stranger to defending himself, but it wasn't enough to bridge the four million year gap of wartime experience, training, and armament. The cannon being pointed at him still leaves for a very unhappy scowl, but it was clearly time to take a different approach.

After taking a good look at the purple mask, he narrows his eyes,"Disappointing that someone who'd wear my badge would be incapable of recognizing my face."

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn's eyes flash in shock before narrowing in suspicion. This mech can't be Megatron hes far too young. Unless...

He lowers his fusion cannon, "Lord, Megatron?"

It's impossible. The Last time he saw Megatron he looked so different. Totally different from the person standing in front of him. But he does recognize him as Megatron from years past. Is this some sort of trick--or a trap? What the pit is going on. He wants answers now.

[aminerproblem]

With the threat of being blasted now removed, Tarn may just get them. The aggression seeps out of the miner's frame as the immediate danger is abated.

"No titles," he insists firmly,"We are meant to be equals."

Surely this soldier is familiar with his works, he certainly looks the part. While his own stances were still evolving, he didn't believe his purpose in speaking out against the Senate was to put himself in their place.

"I am still Megatron of Tarn."

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn cocks his head just slightly. Has some sort of time travel shenanigans happened? He can't imagine what would have triggered such an even, but, alas, here we are. With a young revolutionary Megatron.

"Of course..." He's still skeptical but perhaps it is best to go with this. If it turns out out to be a falsehood spun by a warped mech, well, then he will deal with it once he is absolutely positive. For now he is willing to play the fool. "Yes, of course, Megatron. My apologies for the somewhat uncouth manner of greeting. I am a bit disoriented, you see."He takes a step forward, hand crossed over his spark. "Do you know who i am?"

[targetlocked]

Lock-On has spotted someone nearby, and she's starting to rumble towards them, when she notices the fusion cannon they've pointed in her direction. "Whoa there, buddy," she says, backing up. "I do not appreciate this kind of greeting."

She hopes this aggressive stranger doesn't actually shoot, because there's nowhere to hide and not a lot she can do to avoid being hit.

[sparkwhisperer]

Tarn is tired, smeared with energon, disoriented, and not in the mood for Autobots.

Since waking up in this awful version of Cybertron it has been one thing after another. He continues to power his double fusion cannon, staring very levelly at this poor mech who happened to stumble upon him in such a foul mood. His optics flash just slightly in a weak glare. Light glints off the red insignia on the stranger’s alt mode (although he has to admit, it is a fine alt mode)

“Turn around and leave Autobot. This is the only warning that you will receive.”

[targetlocked]

"Autobot? ...Oh! You must be one of those Decepticon fellows I learned about during my training." Lock-On sounds way more chill about this than she should, considering that, on closer inspection, this person's face is literally the Decepticon symbol. The symbol of the Decepticons. Who like to kill Autobots.

What can she say – she hasn't talked to anyone in a while, and it's not like she's ever really fought Decepticons. She's curious and grudge-free.

She's certainly aware of the fusion cannon still pointed at her, though. "I am not going to attack you, you know. I would simply like to talk." It's worth a try, right?

[sparkwhisperer]

Oh Primus help him...

"I assure you, it is in your best interest to leave. I have not had a good day and my mood is, quite honestly, terrible."

He yearns to reduce this stranger to a wreckage of spare parts (If only to serve as the stress relief that he so desperately needs), but he has made an agreement to stand down from conflict. It's not as if this mech is overly abrasive and she's not a traitor on The List. He can allow her to survive if it keeps him in the young Megatron's good graces.

[targetlocked]

The fact that she's still alive gives Lock-On hope that she will, in fact, remain alive for the duration of this conversation. Being alive and talking is just so much better than being dead or suffering a lack of interpersonal interaction. Even if talking involves having a fusion cannon pointed at her first.

Lock-On rolls forward a little bit. "What is wrong?" she asks, somewhat concerned. "Have others been unkind to you here?"

[sparkwhisperer]

Even with the fusion cannon pointed at her, this stranger approaches slightly. With a sigh, Tarn begins powering down his weapon. Really, what's the point, its just draining his energy.

"I suppose you can say that." He lowers his arm, turning his back and transforming into his alt mode. "I have certainly not been having the best time here."

Tarn begins rolling away, leaving the other tank is a cloud of dust. He really should just leave and remove himself from the situation if the stranger will not leave on her own. Hopefully she will not follow him.