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Post by Long Haul on May 24, 2007 9:39:12 GMT -5
The immediate problem is solved, and Long Haul, spent after the events of the last day, has little to add. He turns to look out over the alien city, then glances at Synapse. "Erm... sorry for falling out on the watch there," he says apologetically, and he does sound genuinely sorry. He is used to pulling a lot of things, after all, including his own weight.
"You, uhm... you got any advice for me, on this watch standing gig? Even if I blew it tonight, I'll still have to figger this whole thing out, I guess."
Getting used to being a soldier and not just a builder will take some doing!
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Post by Perceptor on May 24, 2007 16:28:25 GMT -5
"Thank you, Synapse. I appreciate your willingness to transport me. Yes, I am capable of mass-shifting my alternate mode to assist," Perceptor assures the other mech.
With that settled, and with Xaaron handling Nightbeat, and Synapse and Long Haul returning to the interrupted watch, Perceptor decides to get back to work on his calculations. The portion of the ledge which Long Haul had shattered in during his vehement outburst of denial is further assaulted when Perceptor pulls loose a shard of the metal and withdraws to another corner of the rooftop to begin sketching out his current conclusions. The night creatures, fortunately, are sufficiently loud enough to drown out the soft scrape of metal against metal as he uses his improvised stylus to gouge thin slivers out of the metal rooftop to slowly build up a crude map of their current position, as his calculations illustrate. By daybreak, he'll be able to explain his conclusions to everyone with the appropriate visual aids to assist the clarity of information exchange.
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Synapse
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Posts: 380
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Post by Synapse on May 24, 2007 19:16:48 GMT -5
"N-no problem at all," Synapse stammers, eager in being able to help out in some way. If he was to walk away, his step would probably be lighter by a few kilograms, but seeing as he isn't going to be going anywhere until daylight, he turns away for a moment; his visor washing aglow.
He can't help but feel a little silly when Long Haul addresses him. "Ahh, don't worry too much about it," Synapse assures Long Haul. Really, he likes this sort of thing. "You're right though, we're in a hostile area and we'll all need to be prepared. Standing watch isn't too hard. The tricky part is concentration. Have to focus oneself hard enough to be vigilant, but not so much as to start seeing things that aren't really there. Like Emirate Xaaron said earlier: look for things that are out of place, or suddenly changed, be observant." Synapse rubs the back of his helm nervously, he's not used to this sort of teaching thing, but he's willing to try.
But trying is hard as he finds his words slipping off as he vocalizes his next question. "I-if you want, I can help you with this whole w-watch thing. It'd be n-no trouble." Immediately after the words come out of his mouth, he steels himself for a less than positive response. His previous resolve and confidence crumbling in his attempt to reach out a little bit.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 24, 2007 23:26:22 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron notes Long Haul's willingness to learn and pull his weight in a martial capacity, pleased. He cannot wish that Long Haul actually knew soldiering. If he did, he'd be on the other side of the fence. Long Haul seems to be fairly resilient when faced with the knowledge of his doom and destiny, too. That's good. Emirate Xaaron hates angsters. He's a bit an Angst Nazi that way - no angst for you! It's so counter-productive.
He's also pleased by how Synapse has stepped forward to coach Long Haul. The team is meshing! It'd warm Emirate Xaaron's heart, if he had one. He smiles and sends an encouraging nod their way.
//Understood, Emirate. It's night here too. Relaying starchart... now.//
Once that's done, //I'm on a beach somewhere. And I'm not alone. Big giant Autobot here. Omega Supreme.//
When the transmission from Nightbeat comes in, he relays the star chart to Perceptor, hoping it won't disturb the scientist overly much. It ought to look familiar to Perceptor - it's pretty much the same sky Omega Supreme sent, although Omega Supreme was offshore when he sent his star chart, not on the beach itself.
Emirate Xaaron relays, //Unless you have run into another Omega Supreme, that is not the Omega Supreme that you know, Nightbeat. In fact, what was your last timestamp? It's not the banal question it sounds. You see, every Autobot on this planet and I assume the Decepticons as well are temporally displaced, and some hail from divergent realties. Could be a side-effect of the Time Wars. Could be the work of Unicron. Could be something else entirely. We really have no idea.//
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Post by Long Haul on May 25, 2007 5:40:41 GMT -5
Long Haul carries everything. He doesn't like carrying, but he does it, because it's his job and it's an important job. So of course he's going to try to carry his own weight!
Whether it makes him a good watch stander or not, he listens with interest to the Autobot frequency conversation - so this Nightbeat guy is in the same location as Omega Supreme? That's kind of handy, except for the Omega Supreme probably wanting to kill Long Haul part. Still, with all the things making life harder, it'll be nice to have one thing that makes it easier. His optic band flashes almost angrily as this guy proclaims that Omega Supreme "has the personality of a rock." He almost activates his radio to protest the bad-mouthing of his friend, then catches himself. Of course, since it was over the Autobot frequency, he lays to odds that Omega heard that, too.
In addition to listening to the radio conversation, Long Haul also listens to Synapse. He nods at the "concentration" bit, even if he's not doing the best of jobs at it right now, and in response to Synapse's offer, he nods again. "Ah, yuh, I'd appreciate that, actually. Be kinda nice to have someone show me the ropes an' all. Don't want anyone getting hurt 'cos I'm new at this stuff." He rubs the back of his head thoughtfully as he scans the area. "So you just stand and watch out and... and that's it?" He grunts. "Sounds pretty dull. A lot like hauling, really. Only without alla the stuff in my back."
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Post by Perceptor on May 25, 2007 12:15:48 GMT -5
The star chart does not, in fact, distract Perceptor; he's used to multi-tasking, and the chart is almost a near duplicate of the file he's already received from Omega Supreme.
"They are together," he observes, mostly to himself, as he's falling into the habit of speaking to himself and his work, however, he's conscientious enough to pitch his voice loud enough for Xaaron to take note, if the Emirate wishes.
"Nightbeat has not contacted 'another Omega Supreme'. Hmm... The proximity of Garoen VII, and the influence of the suspected gravity well at .065..." Perceptor's voice trails off as he continues sketching out his diagram, with occasional calculations annotated neatly off to one side.
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Synapse
Minor
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Posts: 380
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Post by Synapse on May 25, 2007 22:25:26 GMT -5
He's never really thought of watch in that sort of light before. Sure it could get a little lonely up in space or in the security office, but boring was not one of the things he'd ever associated with the job. But Long Haul's not the only one listening in curiously to the conversation going all across the Autobot frequency. This 'Nightbeat' he's never heard of and Omega Supreme who he's never seen.
"I dunno, doing watch and surveillance has always been something I liked. I mean, they made me that way, I think." Synapse frowns thoughtfully and shrugs, keeping his optics trained ahead and most of his concentration on the images flashing through his visor. "I guess you just get used to it after a while. Everything that comes with watch would be a given."
"So...um, Omega Supreme, what's he like?" he asks quietly, hoping that such a topic would not be considered off-limits. He doesn't want to start kicking himself just yet.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 25, 2007 23:28:43 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron nods along at Perceptor's information about Nightbeat and Omega Supreme. Occam's Razor has cut true, for once. Curious, he paces over to a few steps behind Perceptor and peers at his scribed calculations and annotations. He rubs his chin, trying to decipher as much of it as he can before Perceptor explains it all. Emirate Xaaron's out of practice when it comes to the sciences, although he's decent at doing reactor calculations. Mainly because he wants to know if the reactors are going to explode in his face. The practical bits always stuck better in his memory, for some reason.
//I hail from a date slightly after yours, Nightbeat. For you, Optimus Prime was about to surrender to Scorponok, yes?// Or maybe blue pixies were invading. Nightbeat could still be from a divergent timeline. //Perceptor and another Autobot are set to rendezvous with Omega Supreme tomorrow. You ought to expect them, as well.// He leaves out Synapse's name out of courtesy, although it isn't much protection, if the Decepticons really are listening.
He offers nothing about Omega Supreme to Synapse. It's not his version.
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Post by Long Haul on May 26, 2007 0:11:52 GMT -5
Long Haul rubs his forehead and sighs. "From the sounds of things, my version's pretty damn out of date. I can tell you what Omega Supreme was like, not what he's like now." The Constructibot holds out one hand in front of him, fingers spread, and seems to be studying it for the moment. Then the hand clenches, and lowers. Long Haul looks at Synapse. "But it'd be nice if someone besides me knew him as he was, huh?"
"A nice guy," Long Haul's voice is fond, and some of the sadness fades. For him, there's still a note of unreality to this all, and he's not remembering a distant past... he's describing someone he saw just a few days ago. "Real friendly. Pretty chatty, too... we have to... had to watch ourselves with him sometimes. Real easy to get lost in a conversation, y'know, and forget, 'Hey, we've got work to do!'" Long Haul chuckles, "hur hur hur," then continues. "He likes buildings, y'know? Well designed buildings. When we met 'em, found out he was already something of an admirer. Now, Hook and Mixmaster, they always s'pect people should admire them anyways, but Scrapper, he was all sorts of embarrassed." His optic band flashes, this time a friendlier blue glow, and he continues. "So we'd chat about that... not just our work, also other people's stuff, things we'd seen, things we'd just heard about, and then we'd get back to work and Omega? Well, he'd do what he could to make up for distracting us, trying to lend a hand..." Long Haul leans over and says in an almost conspiratory tone, "'Course, he'd only lend one, 'cos that's all he's got, but that just makes being willing to lend that one that much more special, right?"
OOC: If there are no objections, I'm going to do the time-warp again during my next turn, forward us on to morning.
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Post by Perceptor on May 26, 2007 1:43:50 GMT -5
Slowly, as Xaaron watches, a galaxy is taking shape on the rooftop. It's a surprisingly good rendition of a galaxy, for all that Perceptor isn't an artist. He is, however, used to making detailed sketches and annotations of his observations during the experiments he performs.
The calculations, however, might as well be written in ancient Sanskrit, for all the sense they're likely to make to the Emirate. They're disjointed, a snippet here, a wave-function there, and organized in a manner only decipherable to Perceptor. They're notes, really, rather than full equations, designed to slow the scientist's thought to the speed of his hand as he sketches.
Meanwhile, Perceptor continues to mutter to his work, naming the occasional point that merits special attention - namely those stars he actually has names for. If Xaaron has any significant star-charts in his databanks, it should slowly be growing clear that, with the detail Perceptor is adding to one arm of his galaxy drawing in particular, that they are quite far from home, indeed.
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Synapse
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Post by Synapse on May 26, 2007 10:42:10 GMT -5
Chatty, friendly, and architect connoisseur are not words that Synapse has ever heard describing the giant Omega sentinel. But, Long Haul has a history with Omega Supreme, whereas Synapse was built in the midst of the war with not much history with or on anything. However Omega Supreme was, he sure sounds different now across the Autobot Broadband.
"Yeah, sounds pretty special to me," murmurs Synapse appreciatively. He cocks his head and glances at Emirate Xaaron. "What about this Nightbeat character? You know what he's like?"
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 26, 2007 13:58:46 GMT -5
At Long Haul's description of how his Omega Supreme once was, Emirate Xaaron feels a pang for what the war has wreaked: plowshares to swords, friends to enemies, life to death. Such thoughts, however, lead into an old debate. If war is so terrible, why not end it in the most expedient manner possible? The counter-argument is that expedience is yet another of those horrors of war - that the end does not overshadow its means. Emirate Xaaron knows where he stands.
Well, right now, he stands somewhere behind and to the side of Perceptor. He rubs his chin. Not to put too fine a point on it, but Emirate Xaaron was a homebody. Cybertron was his home, and from there, he never strayed. So while the galaxy sketch looks technically impressive to him, it has all the meaning of scattered bones.
Emirate Xaaron turns to address Synapse and answers, "Nightbeat? He's a master detective. A bit, ah... funny in the processors. Doesn't quite think like a normal Autobot, but I doubt he could do his job half so well if he did. Can be rather gruff and doesn't always work well in teams, but he's fantastic for thinking on his feet." Emirate Xaaron chews his lower lip, and his voice grows softer, as is quiet will deny the events their existence, "A Decepticon commander by the name of Thunderwing seized the Matrix, and it accepted him as its bearer, granting him great power. He scythed through resistance, and even Optimus Prime could barely hold him off. Through clever thinking, Nightbeat managed to harpoon Thunderwing and cast him adrift in space, but to rid ourselves of Thunderwing, the Matrix was lost." Sometimes, even the cleverest of thoughts cannot beat out pure evil.
He hangs his head. Unicron is at their door, and the Matrix is once again gone. And what is Cybertron's Emirate doing for his planet? Absolutely nothing. He's piddling around on some xeno world. Emirate Xaaron shakes, hands clenching. He offlines his optics for a moment and composes himself.
Emirate Xaaron nods along at Nightbeat's radio response and says verbally, "Everything is in order, then. Send Nightbeat my regards when you rendezvous with him. He has the form of a blue Porsche."
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Post by Long Haul on May 26, 2007 14:09:35 GMT -5
Long Haul falls silent so as to focus on his watch, although from time to time he can be heard grumbling to himself. Usually, these grumbles are mindless complaints, of a sort he's inclined to make. Should anyone else have any more advice on watch standing, Long Haul will listen, but otherwise, the remainder of his shift, shared with Synapse, proves uneventful. As the sky first darkens, then lightens, he shifts his weight from one foot to another, then looks between Perceptor and Synapse. "I guess... guess it's getting about time," he murmurs, not hiding his nervousness. His life, after all, may shortly hang on how well these two can convince Omega Supreme... of a very unbelievable truth. OOC: All right. Time skip. It's nigh-morning. Hopefully the Tourist Beach thread will catch up with us here shortly.
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Post by Perceptor on May 26, 2007 18:34:11 GMT -5
Perceptor eyes his sketch with a critical optic, absently noting the increased light from the sunrise and Long Haul's quiet comment. It's not a detailed 3d display, but it will suffice for the moment. His calculations are rather unfinished and imprecise for his tastes, anyway. a detailed 3d model would be wasted on the level of detail he is yet able to provide.
"I believe I have calculated our rough position, both spatially and temporally," he observes, pitching his voice to the others as he straightens from where he'd been kneeling to scratch the graphic into the metal roof.
As the others gather round at his urging, he steps a little off to one side so that they can all see the full graphic. Synapse, having a space craft alt, will likely recognize certain benchmark stars that Perceptor has been careful to detail in the drawing. They are, for the most part, scattered amidst the arm of the galaxy that Earth and Cybertron reside in. Each of those worlds are labeled, small points delineated with small, precise Cybertronian glyphs along the out-flung edge of one arm of the galaxy.
Unfortunately, the Cybertronian glyph for "current position" is neatly annotated deep in the middle of an entirely different arm of the galaxy, which lies at some distance from where they should be.
"This, as near as I can deduce at this time," Perceptor explains, using his improvised stylus as a pointer to indicate a portion of the graphic around the "current position" glyph, "is our current location. I apologize for the imprecision of my calculations; I require further observations to more adequately narrow down our exact position."
Of course, "imprecise" for Perceptor is probably more spot on and fine detailed than many spacers rely on for their final, detailed charts. He is still, however, irritated at having narrowed it down to one of a potential 18 stars that they currently orbit; he would prefer to have narrowed it down to no more than three, if not the star. More observations, however, may yet yield him the precision he demands.
"As you can see," he continues, pointing out Cybertron and Earth, "we are at a considerable distance from our last individually known spacial locations. Temporally..." He glances up toward Emirate Xaaron.
"Temporally, based upon the information detailed in the star charts in my databanks, I believe we are plus or minus no more than 8.5 years from our current era," he explains, nodding toward Xaaron. "Again, further observations may yield more precise figures, however we have neither the time, nor the opportunity to continue said observations at this time. I am afraid that, vague as these calculations may be," he sniffs derisively, "that they must suffice for now. Our energies would be better utilized in consolidating our forces and locating the primary power transmission station that supplies the network we uncovered yesterday."
He sighs and rises again from his crouch, staring off out over the forest in the direction that Omega Supreme and Nightbeat should be waiting. "Perhaps in the search for reliable energy, we might uncover the means by which and reason why we have all been transported here, and thusly a manner in which to reverse the process."
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Synapse
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Post by Synapse on May 27, 2007 0:31:11 GMT -5
The alt-form of a blue Porsche means nothing to Synapse, but he nods to Emirate Xaaron anyways. He'll find out soon enough what that is.
When Perceptor announces his findings, Synapse walks over and peers at the graphic, anxious to see the scientist's discoveries. When he looks over the glyphs and markings, he only thing he can really think of is 'At least we're in the same galaxy...'. To Synapse, knowing where they are is a bit of a relief. At least he can chart his location from here to Cybertron. The trouble is the chronal rift between the time he originated from and the time it is now. That places Synapse a bit further from his origins more than he cares to be. Space travel would take years anyways, seeing the distance between the arm of the galaxy the are currently in and the arm of the galaxy that Cybertron resides in.
He steps back and preps his engines lightly before transforming into his alt-mode. The black windshield hisses slightly as it raises up, allowing an entry for the ship's occupant to be. Synapse can't help be feel a little nervous about everything.
"I hope you're right, Perceptor." He says this not about the scientist's long thought out calculations of their position, but about everything else. Assurance is a luxery, not a necessity though. "So Long Haul's going to follow us?"
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