Why did you do this?
Have I not made you happy? Have I not made you proud? Ever since I found you I have done everything I could to follow you. I've changed the way I live, I've changed the way I think, I've changed the way I conduct myself. I've done my best to live my life as a better person and yet you see it fair to take away the things I love most. Did I not suffer enough when you took Wing before his time? I thought I was going to die but I moved past it, I learned to live without him and I learned to accept your will regardless of how unfair it may seem to me.
But this? This is unnecessary. This is cruel. I no longer respect you, instead I fear you. I fear your cruelty. I fear your selfishness. After everything we have done for you, you repay us with heartbreak. I fear to love again lest you pluck them away from this world, and for what? What purpose does this serve? What lesson is taken away from these losses?
I don't understand. I will never understand.
I hate you for this.
This message comes some time after Penchant left Soundwave in the closet. Enough time for Soundwave to possibly cool off a bit.
I allowed you the choice to come with or stay here. You will always have a place with me but I was not going to force you into a decision.
I am disappointed by your actions today.
Inform me of your decision soon.
Barrister of Iacon: I know we're all happy to be alive and expecting a few new faces, and I hate to be a downer, but, we may want to take note of what's happening in the rest of the galaxy before that next round of engex.
CONSORTIA CHARGES CYBERTRONIANS WITH CONTRIVING CRISIS
Amidst reports that the Unicron Crisis, which has held the galaxy in the grip of terror for the past standard year, has come to an end, some now allege a sinister motive behind the rogue planet’s reign of terror. At an emergency session of the Executive Committee for the Defense of Our Homeworlds, a representative of Prelate Azzak of the Black Block Consortia presented dramatic evidence that the Consortia contends demonstrates that the Cybertronians themselves perpetrated the Crisis.
The Black Brahmin known as Broken Wings Beat Against the Oncoming Storm, alleged that the recent Unicron Crisis was a Cybertronian attack on a scale not seen in a million years. “We have uncovered facts indicating that what we have called Unicron was nothing more than a means for the Cybertronians to collect organics and their energy in order to restart their dead homeworld.” Broken Wings told the Committee. The Black Brahmin presented images allegedly captured by a Consortia watch tower in the Cybertron system. “As you can see, rather than destroying Unicron, these images show the integration of Unicron and Cybertron. This result is fundamentally different than what the Cybertronians told this very Council when they came begging for help, that they wanted to destroy Unicron as much as we did. The only conclusion is that, once again, the organic races have been deceived by these rapacious mechanicals.”
Broken Wings displayed images taken later in time showing a dramatically larger planet Cybertron dotted with pools of light. According to the Consortia, these are known as Proving Pits, where new Cybertronians’ nascent energy forms war against one another, with the fittest earning the right to be given a corporeal body. This form of Cybertronian reproduction was first articulated in the seminal treatise on Cybertronian culture and anatomy “Origins of Conflict, a Race Forged for War.” Such activity has not been documented on Cybertron in a thousand generations, and the Council has taken testimony from the Cybertronians on many occasions to the effect that their race is sterile.
“The implications are clear.” Broken Wings concluded. “The Cybertronians perpetrated the Unicron Crisis in order to collect organic lives and material. Whether an element of this scheme got out of hand, or whether the apparent civil conflict among the Cybertronians was a scheme by Megatron to prevent full Council and Consortia intervention against them, we do not yet know. What we do know is that billions of organics and their worlds were systematically harvested so that Cybertron, a world thought to be dead for a million years, could be reborn.” Although a final report on the scale of the Unicron Crisis is still being prepared, initial estimates suggest that upwards of fifty billion organics lost their lives during the rogue world’s rampage, with dozens of worlds falling to its attacks. In addition, Council military strength is believed to be badly depleted, especially following the disaster at Issicus. Fleet deployments remain classified, but reliable sources indicate that the remaining Council fleets are being deployed internally to prepare for unrest caused by significant displacement of whole races caused by the Unicron Crisis.
The Committee went into executive session to discuss the charges.
Whether I have over-stepped any preconceived boundaries or insulted you in any way, it was never never my intention and I apologize.
Please inform me of what I have done wrong so I may avoid to do so in the future.
I hope this will allow for future visitations once more.
Lost Light Command
A prank must be answered with a prank, of course; it's an age-old rule.
The device that ends up attached to one of the ship's elevators is large, but hidden, strapped to the outside of the elevator, between its body and the shaft it lives in. Easy enough, for someone with access to the maintenance tubes. The trigger is not nearly as large, easily hidden in a top corner of the elevator's innards. For a while, it does nothing.
But when a certain red frontliner steps into the elevator, and when the doors close on him, it activates.
Sideswipe (and whoever is unfortunate enough to be caught in there with him) will be treated to a miniature sandstorm, a whirlwind of dirt particles that scratch up paint and gets stuck in unfortunate places on the frame. Whether or not this was recorded, or if the persecutor has saved any potential recordings for their own viewing pleasure, is unknown at this time.
Rodimus: Good job re: Orion dropping the title. Turns out you're pretty decent at this leading thing. Who knew.
Hound: Do me a solid and scoop that faketrix out of Orion, or task someone. We should try to study it, at least.
It's a note attached to a box of rust sticks.
We need to talk
I need to talk to you
I'm sorry about
These are for Bob, or whoever else wants them. We should probably talk sometime. I'm sorry about last time.
A lone, medium sized box sits outside Vortex's habsuite door with his name on a small label. Inside he'll find several datapads containing pre-war learning texts from the Iaconian Academy of Science and Technology, freshman level. There's also some datapads of useful medical texts and a list of other titles not currently on hand. A note sitting on top of it all reads --
Ratchet said yes! So if you're serious about wanting to join Medical, study chapters 1-5. And don't skim because you think you now it already. See you next week to go over it, have fun! ~Torque
Megatron stands amidst the ruins of Raskol Arena on Luna 2, with primordial Cybertron looming in the background. His army is assembled in the stands and on the field, the full might of the Decepticon forces. Terminus is at his side, on the right, but otherwise the stage is empty. Even his generals, Turmoil and Raptorion, have been relegated to the mass of soldiers.
“My Decepticons.” Megatron begins, voice booming through the only place left in the ruins of their home system big enough to hold him, his army, and his ambitions. “Behind me is Cybertron, our home. For four million years we have carried on the struggle to claim it as ours, to wrest it from those who enslaved us, to defeat those who would usurp it from us, and to rule it under the principles I have set forth. There are some who now say that this war is over, that we have lost.” Megatron smirks and gestures towards the assembled Decepticons. “I say to them: look at this arena, look at the full might of the Decepticons, a force that has cowed the Harbingers and now stands once again on the threshold of Cybertron!” A cheer erupts from the gathered Decepticons. Megatron waits for it to run its course.
“And yet, I have said that the war cannot continue as it has. Our race has suffered too much. And though I would expend mine own spark to achieve our goals, to build the future that I have long promised to you, I see now that it cannot be achieved through force of arms alone.” A hush falls over the gathered Decepticons. Red optic turns to red optic, and murmurs arise from the silence. Unsure. “The war is over, my Decepticons, but we are the victors. I am today announcing a new government for Cybertron, negotiated with Starscream and the Council of Worlds. Long have I strived for justice, and in this new regime, I, Megatron, your leader, shall be Judge and Jury of all offenses that are brought to me. At last, we will have reached that which we have long fought: we have moved Cybertron Towards Justice.”
Megatron continues. “I will dispense justice openly and fairly. My verdicts, which I will render in my capacity as chief lawgiver of Cybertron, will be broadcast at regular intervals to the people all across the Cybertronian diaspora. I will not permit the tricks and sophistries of legal counsel, those seeking justice on the new Cybertron shall stand before me as plain citizens and plead their case. My closest advisor, Terminus, shall be responsible for courtroom security and for consultation during the trial. My judgments shall be binding on the parties before me, though I shall accept all comers. None shall be above the law. I hope that all will tune in to view justice being dispensed from my high seat.” Megatron grins. “I do not speak in the manner of judges of old, who hid their plain decisions behind jargon and words rendered in Old Cybertronian. Justice shall be rendered in the common tongue of the people, and those fools who dare come before Megatron seeking revenge or to hide their misdeeds shall be told off, accordingly.”
The speech builds to its conclusion. “I renounce the titles that I have accrued in our long struggle. No more am I the Emperor of Destruction. The Supreme Leader of the Constellate. The High Protector of Cybertron and all her Colonies. Refer to me no more as Lord Megatron, but instead as Judge Megatron. My work begins shortly.”
With that, Megatron concludes his speech to resounding cheers from the gathered Decepticons. They chant: “JUDGE MEGS! JUDGE MEGS! JUDGE MEGS!”
Judge Megs airs weekdays between 1 and 1:30 P.M. Next case: Minimus Ambus vs. Rodimus the Not Prime: Soundwave stole his ex's heart, and now their prodigal son Drift has returned. The tiny casanova demands mech support from the ex-Captain of the Lost Light. Judge Megs sets them straight and renders a shocking verdict!
[[This is a parchment that has been left on the desk in Quicksight and Skystalker's room. It's written on in ink, in a hand that, while messier than usual, is still recognizable as Quick's.]
I was born a solider. Those who built me made sure I knew it right from the start. I got my first asignment then too. I was one of the lucky ones to even have that much time. The rest of my batch was simply thrown into the battle with only the instructions that had been programed into us - who to kill, and how to do it. By the time my batch was built, the idea of educationg mtos before sending them into battle was forgotten. There wasn't any point. None of us were expected to make it out alive anyways. We were, in the end, simply more weapons of the war. The Decepticons needed more bodies [bodies is crossed out] soldiers [this is also crossed out] bodi [crossed out again] soldiers [scribbled over] bod [scribbled over] [the next word is completely scrawled over with ink, to the point that it's impossible to see what it was. The writing afterwards is significantly sloppier] to fight the Autobots, who were building
[Here, the writing simply cuts off. There are a couple splatters of ink below it.]
This is a video recording sent in to the head officers of intel by Quicksight. It contains footage and audio from the battle on Luna 1.
The voice is Quicksight's, but the first part of whatever he was saying was not caught. The camera focuses in on Lieutenant, who is standing with his foot on someone. A close look will reveal that it's Windrose. This is confirmed moments later by her voice:
"Excuse me! These colors are lavander, not pink. NOT DAMSEL IN DISTRESS COLORS!"
Windrose is soon bloted out by the figure of Starstruck, who appears to be rushing towards, or at Lieutenant. A new voice comes in from somewhere above the camera. It may be recognizable as Cosmos'
"Lieutenant what are you doing!?"
The camera suddenly jolts, and the scene disappears, darting instead chaotically every which way, flipping from the moon's surface, to the sky, and back again several times. The sound of shooting comes from behind it as it finally more or less stabilizes, settling on a slanted, aerial view of the ground below. Quicksight's own voice comes through
"It's exactly like him! Third time!"
The camera continues moving, never settling on any point of the ground, or even the ground itself, the scene periodically spinning towards the sky, and then back down again. The sounds of gunfire and explosions can be heard. Periodically, some dialogue manages to get through.
"Come ba-- t-- the U -- maker. Everyone -- some p--t."
"No, Lieu. --ey --on't. You're go-- --- back to us. You got tha--? You-- --ming back to us"
"Som--ne knock some sense b-- into him!"
Fireflight's voice comes in loud and clear, evidently over the radio:
"Lemme help you with that..."
This is followed by a loud explosion as the camera darts rapidly
Somewhere in the background - below the camera, comes notes of a soft melody. The camera briefly focuses on the source - Starstruck, with his artifact saxophone, standing in front of Lieutenant. Lieutenant makes an attempt to kick it away, but only suceeds in falling over.
Windrose is now standing to the side as well, saying:
"We're doing this for your own good Lieutenant! You're not leaving us very many options though!"
Quicksight's voice comes through as the scene leaves the field of view:
"Ya stupid, or where ya trying to kill me too?!"
Fireflight answers him:
"I-I'm sorry, I was trying to help!" a short pause, and then "Ok, I'm gonna crash it, if I miss, then you've gotta stop her for both of us, Okay?"
There is a roar of engines, a "Wha--?" in Quicksight's voice, a loud thud, and then the camera turns to watch Fireflight barreling downwards along with another jet. This one doesn't resemble any of the Lost Lighters, but is similar to one of the prisoners that were taken from that battle.
As this goes down, Quicksight mutters:
The camera moves again. It settles on one point - the scene below with Lieutenant. This time, it stays there. The audio becomes clear again.
Below, Starstruck is still playing his saxaphone. Cosmos has his arms wrapped around Lieutenat's legs. Lieutenant himself is looking much worse off than he was a few minutes ago.His armor has taken some significant damage, and continues to crack and outright disintegrate as the mech claws at his own helm. Despite all this, he still manages to make out a strained plea:
"Please- Please, Do not stop until there is nothing of Him left in me."
The tune changes as Starstruck moves up to Lieutenant to wrap an arm around Lieutenant
"We're going to save you, just hold on. Hold on, Lieu. Just hold on." he says.
Windrose adds her contribution as well:
"We get it. You'd rather... than suffer and hurt your friends farher. One way or another, this will end for you."
Then, she too moves in to join the now group hug.
Quicksight, however, does not. Though, judging from the unchanging focus of the camera, he remains circling above it all, he does throw in a criticism:
"There ain't no saving him from him being a traitor at spark, Unicron or no Unicron."
Somewhere off-camera, Fireflight's somewhat distant voice can be heard too:
"Don't move! You're... uh, you're under arrest!"
He's answered by another voice, belonging to a femme, also off camera:
"Arrest me with her then!"
"Oh" Fireflight responds "Uh...Right. Ok! Yeah, you're uhh... you're both under arrest! You uh, have the right to.....the right to sing Silent Night! Or was it Silent Hill? Or uhh... Just stand over there, weapons on the ground and away from you!"
Meanwhile, Cosmos and Starstruck begin lifting Lieutenant up off the ground. The former says:
"We-We have to get him out away from Unicron!"
Both Cosmos, Fireflight, and his prisoner are nearly drowned out by Starstruck's voice:
"Quicksight, shut the FUCK UP."
The music stops, the Decepticon scoops up Lieutenant, who's looking worse by the minute, a pair of his wings quite literally falling off of his frame
Starstruck continues ""I'm calling a space bridge. You guys do what you need to."
Windrose is quick to back him up.
"I'm calling a space bridge. You guys do what you need to." she adds, before turning to call to someone off camera "It's 'the right to be silent'!"
Quicksight's voice comes in again :
"I'm just saying it as it is.I got it all on record here."
As the others begin to move, so does the camera, breaking away from the scene of the events, and following the ground below. The last voice that comes through before the feed cuts out belongs to Cosmos:
"I-I'll be back!"
And then the screen goes dark.
Greetings. My apologies if this sounds so formal
Please get better soon.
Why were you out in the field? Did Soundwave take you? Should I write a complaint?
Do you need a hug? Is that too forward to ask?
I sent a quilt. You could make a tent out of it in case you need privacy. Especially considering how the Recovery Ward has none. You could use it to wipe up messes.
Penchant, I hope this message finds you well. Your current state only just came to me. While I have not come to see you in person
fear of mechs and the thought of running into Soundwave are the major reasons why I still wish to let you know I am worried about your wellbeing. You have many who care and support you. I may not speak for them but I know we all wish you a swift recovery.
Hope to see you soon,
- Fmr. Lt. Lieutenant of Iacon
Encrypted message sent to the leaders of Torch, Dagger, and Shield via secure transmission.
You are to commence operations with all deliberate speed along the previously established timetables. Summon all mechs under your command to their ready stations. We proceed to Luna 1, and the war.
Megatron of Tarn, Lord of the Decepticons, Protector of Cybertron and all her Colonies, Supreme Allied Commander: Luna 1
A brief note, distributed to those who arrive at their ready stations, if they are willing to hear it.
Decepticons, Autobots, Cybertronians, and Colonists:
You are about to embark upon the most ambitious operation of this great crusade. Together, we will deal a decisive blow to our enemy. Take heart: for the first time in our long and dynamic history, all of the peoples of Cybertron, though separated by distance or terrible hostilities, stand together as one against a common foe. Our foe is cunning. Our foe is savage. But he is not invincible: over the past months, our forces have dealt the Harbingers terrible blows. Today, we strike the blow from which our enemy cannot recover.
Look to your skills, honed over long millennia of war. Look to the mech beside you, who fights for the same cause. Look to the future, free from this shadow of annihilation. Attend to the now, and the task at hand. United, no force in the galaxy can deny us VICTORY.
Megatron of Tarn
While using an embellishing font looks to be an encrypted or hijacked message, I think next time you should obtain a program which allows you to create gibberish. Humorous ploy, I must admit. Clever too as those glyphs are never used as our own characters for words. Prowl may not have deemed it laughable but I know he at least appreciated your message once he could read it.
Perhaps in the future, should one ever need to mess with the enemy's hardware we could use that. In any case, I thought you might be interested to know that it was an amusing choice.
I only ran the decryption so any further mischievious endevours as such would read normally. There is no habit of me reading any messages anymore. Sincerely.
- Fmr. Lt. Lieutenant of Iacon
Ignition of Crystal City, Commanding the Lost Light, invited reporters to a digital podium from which she gave a press statement this morning assuring listeners that although she and her forces will be joining with a larger Cybertronian force in order to strike back at Unicronian aggression, it is an impermanent condition, and that at no point has she abandoned the principles that led her to take command of the Lost Light in the first place.
Though some critics have been skeptical of the idea of a Cybertronian task force fighting back against Unicron since galactic news has largely been reporting that the threat is a Cybertronian issue in the first place, Ignition seemed collected and passionate in defense of her troops and clarified on the record that "it is a simple courtesy when conducting a joint assault to cede organizational command to the leader of the larger force. Whatever political concerns I, or the Galactic Council, may have for the future, the true threat in this question is and has always been Unicron. I will be proud to lead my fellow Cybertronians to the fray, without regard to religion or faction, and while Megatron and I have occasion to agree on little, in this matter we are absolutely of an accord."
To the final question of the morning, Ignition stated:
"We will save this galaxy so that all of us may worry about tomorrow's concerns tomorrow. It is my sincere desire that all of you will have the opportunity to ask me these questions again. That, gentlepersons, is why I fight."
To: Prowl From: Intelligence Deputy Blast Off
If I read your recent orders regarding the Harbinger Universe !Decepticons correctly, I believe I must protest one as one of the few Decepticons on this ship in a Command position, as a Decepticon, and as a Cybertronian. I understand the need to use all our resources to fight the Harbingers and that in the heat of war there can be no guarantees to the safety of innocents, but I feel it is of the utmost importance that we save whatever !Decepticons we can. Your recent orders seemed to imply that they are to be treated as unimportant, as merely unfortunate fodder to be crushed under the tank treads of war, a necessary casualty. I must strongly protest. These !Decepticons, whatever you may feel about them personally, are victims in this matter. They are slaves, given no choice in this fight, and I believe our soldiers should take every reasonable means to rescue them if possible. That may not always be practical, given that this is war, but the intentions set by command influences everything else that their soldiers do- and ultimately the victory of the army itself, and the form it takes afterwards.
What is victory? The obvious answer is defeating the armies of Unicron and saving our planet and people. I know that you see beyond just the obvious, Prowl, and I ask that you consider the larger picture here. I'll be frank, we've both been made aware of the horrors both our factions are capable from these universes we've seen. But we did not choose that path here. They chose cruelty, we chose working together. As an Autobot, you invited us Decepticons to the table. You... did not have to. But here we are. Now, as a Decepticon, I ask you to consider that nearly every Decepticon will be watching how Autobots treat people bearing the Decepticon badge in this fight. The universe itself will also be watching how we treat those caught up in our conflict. If the simple ethical argument is not enough, consider the aftermath. When we win, for we must, how will the Decepticons remember the Autobots' treatment of people who looked like them? How will the universe remember Cybertronians? Will they remember more of the cavalier attitude towards collateral damage, the lack of disregard for those get hurt just as long as we win, hints of the ancient Autobot Versus Decepticon conflict that brought disaster to their worlds, or will they remember a force that both speaks of righteousness and actually seems to try to demonstrate it as well? A force that truly seems united at last? I've been from one end of this universe and back and I can tell you from personal experience there's a lot out there and we don't want to have to fight it all. This is our chance to improve our standing in a universe that distrusts and dislikes us, and the example of command provides the first step towards that paradigm shift. We don't win in a pyrrhic victory. So I ask you, reaching my hand out to you as a Decepticon sitting at your table, to give us a victory that we can all celebrate. One that unites and improves relations amongst our own kind as well as among the stars. Instruct our forces to rescue !Decepticon or any other slaves or victims whenever possible.
Sincerely, Blast Off
A Decepticon courier brings a lone datastick to the Lost Light. He won’t relinquish it, except to Ignite’s own hand. When the transfer is done, and the datastick played, this follows.
The camera opens on Megatron, standing on the ‘’Castigator’s’’ observation deck. The red rings of Ramophon arc behind him, lending color to the void. His hands are clasped behind his back, and he addresses the person on the other side. “Captain.” The tyrant begins. “I chose this place to plan my attack as a reminder. Fifty thousand years ago, a coalition of organics, the Galactic Council and its client races, alongside the Black Block Consortia, launched an attack that devastated my Constellate. We never recovered. They call it the Battle of the Six Systems. The highest award the Council can give to one of its commanders is named after the war leader who prevailed against my forces.” Admiral Kaysherian, the Crownless Queen, who traded her throne for the battlefield and glory, and who perished securing the final victory. “We were fearsome, then. My Decepticons. And we fell short. I have come here as a reminder of the possibility of defeat. I cannot admit it easily or often. But the steps we take now must be informed by our missteps. I am speaking to provide our plan of attack. The necessary details are encoded on this datastick, but I hope that you will hear me, and recognize that our goals are ultimately aligned.”
Megatron presses a command into the console in front of him. A holographic map of Luna 1 springs into being, or at least the hemisphere occupied by the Harbingers. Their citadel rises over the ruins of Tyrest’s facility. “We have traded words against one another, Captain, and I doubt either of us would take them back. But we must set them aside. I come to you because you are the commanding officer of the Lost Light, regardless of the circumstances of your ascension. They have accepted your command. The ship has, somehow, managed to capture the imagination of a portion of our people and hosts some of the finest minds and soldiers that remain among our race. I have need of all that you can provide. The enemy,” He gestures at the map, “Is in possession of a weapon. A decisive weapon. We can only wrest it from his claws if we work together.” Megatron looks up at the camera again, a smirk playing over his features. “Oh, how many times Optimus Prime gave that speech to me, whenever some monster crawled out of the depths of space to menace our reality. The greater good and this and that. He had a way of making even inspiration seem tiresome. But the universe has a sense of humor, and I find myself giving the speech that I know his baritone aches to give. All must stand as one, or we will fall.”
“It is no secret that we cannot defeat the Harbingers in pitched battle. Unicron has elevated their powers and outfitted them with weapons sufficient to resist this mere shadow of our former might that we presently possess. Victory, then, can be measured only in delay, and in keeping the enemy off balance for long enough to score our decisive blow. To this end, I have divided our forces into three parts: Torch, Dagger, and Shield.”
Megatron holds up a finger. “Torch, commanded by Optimus Prime. Even now, I trust that Soundwave is working to carry out my order to spread disinformation regarding the state of Prime’s forces. The basic point of this deception is that Optimus Prime is looking for space bridge capability, to augment his comparatively meager forces. There is only one place in the galaxy where this technology can be procured.” Megatron sweeps his hand over the holomap, and the serene expanse of the titan graveyard rises into view. “Optimus Prime will lead a diversionary attack on the graveyard. His strike force will be accompanied by a number of ships from Deathsaurus’s fleet. My forces have outfitted a number of derelict Harbinger vessels with rudimentary propulsions systems and signal projectors so that, if they are scanned, they will appear to be fully operational. This will make Prime’s attack appear more dangerous than it is.” Megatron looks up to the camera. “The skeleton crews on these derelicts have orders to ram any Harbinger vessel that engages. Their pilots are reliable. Once the diversionary nature of Prime’s attack is uncovered, which it will be, he will harry our enemy and keep them engaged as long as he can.”
The tyrant moves the holomap as if it were a globe so that the Harbinger citadel now looms before him. “The second group. Dagger. This is where you come in.” Megatron smirks. “An infiltration strike team composed of the Lost Light’s finest will assault the citadel directly after Torch has drawn off the Harbinger forces to the extent that they can. Dagger will proceed to the ultimate objective, secure it, and use it.” Megatron leans over the table, and the viewer can hear the metal creak as his grip finds its edge and tenses. “It...pains me to say that I will not lead Dagger myself. There is no doubt that it is the most important element of our attack. And yet...no matter how I tried to square it, I came back to you, and the crew that has somehow managed to survive even this long.” The tyrant looks up again. “Your crew knows the way. They have experience with our objective. The finest scientific minds available to us are on your ship. I am needed elsewhere. I must be seen on the front line, standing with my Decepticons. I must be seen by your forces standing there. Moreover, I sense that my presence would be a...distraction to Dagger, which must be focused entirely on its objective. So. I cannot go here.” Megatron straightens and laces his hands behind his back again. “I leave it to you to select the composition of Dagger. You, presumably, know the forces under your command and how best to array them. I recommend only that Soundwave be part of Dagger. He will be needed for two purposes. First, to limit Harbinger communication and give maximum effect to our diversion. Second, he will be needed to maintain contact with the final group.”
The holomap zooms up into space, where Harbinger ships dot the stars over their citadel. Models of the Castigator, its escort ships, the Prepotent, and the remaining Decepticon ships warp into view. “Shield. Our main attack will be comprised of my forces, Deathsaurus’s warriors, and the balance of the Lost Light’s remaining combat mechs. It will be, without a doubt, the most powerful fighting force arrayed by Cybertron and her colonies since the end of the war.” Megatron’s optics narrow. “It will be grossly inadequate.”
The glowing ships move and engage, with the Castigator breaking for the surface. “The Prepotent and its escorts will engage the Harbinger fleet while the Castigator launches the main attack on the surface. Our forces will deploy outside of the citadel and lay siege to it. We will draw out any remaining Harbinger defenders and prevent them from focusing on Dagger. Shield will also form a defensive position, holding off Harbinger reinforcements to give Dagger as much time as possible to complete its mission. The enemy will grasp our design the moment he is aware of Dagger. We must move swiftly to preserve the initiative.”
Megatron draws himself up, shoulders squaring. “I will be in overall command of Shield. I will be on the front line, and then wherever I am needed. Turmoil will have operational command of the Decepticon elements. Deathsaurus command of his. The Lost Light contingent will be under your command, or under the command of your delegate. Raptorion will command our aerial contingent. My lieutenant, Terminus, will remain aboard the Castigator and relay my commands to the fleet, if necessary.”
Megatron lifts the plain around the citadel back into view. “Shield will drop on the outlying defense stations here, here, and here, with the bulk of the force arrayed outside the citadel. My forces have procured a number of storm shields, rudimentary but still functional, that will provide Shield some cover and permit us to hold against Harbinger reinforcements. They may also permit our support elements to remain on the battlefield and to extend our fight. If possible, elements of Shield will enter the citadel and provide cover to Dagger or assist.”
“As you can see, I am leaving nothing in reserve. This is our hour, to triumph or perish. We cannot stand against the Harbingers, and yet they are in possession of a weapon that requires us to confront them, and to do so as soon as practical. There is no fall back. No plan B. If we falter here, we may very well lose the war. Keep this in mind, Captain. Empty your ship of every mech who can hold a rifle or who is big enough to absorb a shot for his fiercer crewmate. It will require everything that our reduced race can muster to prevail. I await your designation of the Dagger strike team. Once you have determined the composition of the infiltration force, I will set our operations into motion. The Lost Light element of Shield are to proceed to Ramophon on my signal, to rendezvous with the Castigator. Bring your energon stores. We will have need of them.”
Megatron allows a small smile. “The universe itself will be upon our shoulders. It has ever been thus. I have no doubt we will rise to the occasion. Megatron out.”
The screen fades to darkness.
"Tex! Oh my god! Answer your stupid comms! I just checked my rankings on the Ninplaybox boards and they're SUPER LOW! I got hacked! THIS IS SO DUMB. Tex, call support for me and transfer it over when they pick up, I'm busy with drills. Okay? Thanks. Love you!"