Decepticon Interim: Base Design

[Hook]

It is perhaps a few days after the Decepticon arrived at the mining town, a week at the most. Everyone who can be repaired has been repaired, and there are several buildings around here missing wall as the engineers made use of them for raw materials.

The local receiving station has been discovered, and one of the technicians has been in there to verify that yes, they're drawing power. Enough to keep the Decepticons from starving, at least.

Now...

Dawn creeps over the mountains and illuminates a bright green crane picking his way carefully through a very large sandbox. Evidently someone took pity on his attempts at diagram-making and at least got Hook a medium that he could work large in and edit freely. Even with that help to speed him up, it still has been several days since Hook had begun to sketch everything out.

The fact that it's gone this fast probably has to do with at least one person tromping up to harrass him every couple of hours.

Inscribed in the sandbox are his initial schematics for the Decepticon base. There are living quarters, all of the same stock design. If one counts, too, there is a room for everyone if everyone but one person has a roommate. The living quarters are partially inside the mines and partially outside, as a gesture towards the fliers perhaps not wanting to live under a mountain.

There are a set of laboratories. There is a medical ward. There are storage rooms, a command center, a security center, a rec room. There are wash racks. Everything else except the living quarters is under the mountains.

There are several different cross-sections of his plans to give a thorough idea of what he intends to do. Each design also has a helpful map-scale provided. The designs are very, very precisely inscribed, and he even touches up an area where the breeze has scattered the sand and blurred the lines of his designs.

At last, satisfied with what he has created, Hook calls for Starscream. He hopes for praise and a simple go-ahead, but he has stood by Scrapper's side enough times down the countless millenia to know that it would take a miracle to get that.

---

OOC: Anyone who feels like showing up to have a peek and comment on the plans, feel free. Now is the time for input into what goes into the Decepticon base.

[Dead End]

Dead End rolls up to see if it's safe to look at what Hook's been working on now. Since Hook doesn't brush him off with murderous glares, it must be.

The dark red Stunticon looks over the plans with interest. "We'll need more rooms if more people arrive. No reason to think they've stopped. Where's the garage?"

[Eye-fire]

Eye-fire lazily floats to where Hook and Dead End are standing, both apparently busy admiring a set of plans. He managed to glean this much off a message sent over the broadband.

He touched down softly near by, then proceeds to walk up, his optic zooming in and out as he tries to take in as much of the plan as possible.

"What are our defenses going to be like? Do you think camouflage is necessary?" He says as he comes to a stop next to Hook.

[Sky-byte]

What's all this crowding around all about? Granted, three people aren't much of a crowd, but Sky-byte is a curious (if not nosy) shark. After a while, the mines get a little boring and this looks like just the thing to appease his appetite for something different. Plans? What sort of plans have the Decepticon finished?

He stalks over to the group and tries to get a look at whatever they are all staring at. It doesn't look like a battle plan, it looks more like a plan for...a base. A base means that they're going to be staying here even longer, and Sky-byte is beginning to chafe at the proximity of these Decepticons day in and day out.

"Roommates?!" he exclaims before realizing it. Rooming with one of these heathens is not on his agenda. Perhaps if he can have Blackarachnia and awe her of his great prowess, that will make him one step closer to gaining some independence. Show Starscream what Predacons are truely capable of! Simmering at the very idea and at his own outburst, Sky-byte looks over the rest of the plans. "Do we have more than one exit?" In other words, will he have another way out?

[Hook]

"There is more than enough room to expand crewquarters either outdoors or undermountain, Dead End. Given how much of this we will have to build from scratch, it is more efficient to build only what we need at first. This minimizes the amount of supplies and time required." And saves Hook's poor, beleaguered mind from too many consecutive days of checking and rechecking other people's work.

"Why do we need a garage?" If the answer is anything other than 'I am a Stunticon, and I require it like a jet needs a hangar', Dead End might actually get a garage.

"Unfortunately, the only defenses I have noted at the moment are purely of a structural nature." This is not to say that there aren't many of them in Hook's personal diagrams, but there's only so much detail you can get out of sketches in the sand. "Suggestions are... Welcome."

Yeah, right.

"Going over the maps you have given me," Hook glances at Sky-Byte, "It looks like there are several places where additional exit tunnels can be excavated. However, until I can examine the mine myself, I have not added them to the plans."

Hook withdraws a handheld silvery tube from subspace and thumbs it on. There is a crackle of energy, and a long beam of white light extends out from the tube. The Constructicon gestures at specific places on the plans with it. "I have, however, allowed room in the plans for where these tunnels might go. Observe."

[Dead End]

"Because there are routine maintenance jobs that require more space than shared quarters, but aren't so serious as to take up Medical ward space. Also to function as a ready room. I imagine the jets might like a hangar for the same reason. Hmm... perhaps a combination garage/hangar/ready room? We really do need someplace to load up the ordinance and fuel prior to dashing out to an attack, as well as routine maintenance space," Dead End replies.

In short, he's a Stunticon and requires it like a jet needs a hangar, but there's good reason why he requires it!

[Starscream]

Starscream was busy ordering people around! Hook had better have something worth showing.

Hmm, plans. Starscream counted the barracks areas. "Unless our current influx of Decepticons dries up immediately, Hook, This is going to be very cramped quarters. Have you provided for at least the room to expand for future minions?" Yes, he missed what Hook was saying before. He studied the map some more. "And I hope there room in the general assembly area for a throne. And, do you think this is going to be adequately high enough for the all-important Omega Supreme factor?"

[Spinister]

Spinister appears to consider the base. He is possibly the only Decepticon in the history of several universes to ever consider where to put a base such that it will be easily defensible. Spinister has a decided interest in seeing the base plans, as such.

He stalks in, Singe at his heels. Spinister walks slowly enough that Singe can keep up at a comfortable pace. Singe wanted to see the plans with his own eyes, not with filtered reads from the sensors on his suit. Even the visor does some filtering, but Singe removes his helmet when they arrive. He's not at eye level for anyone, and he's just standing near Spinister's ankle, at the edge of the sandbox. No one should be paying any attention to the Nebulan.

If anyone was paying attention to Singe, they might notice a small object dropped into the sandbox and lightly covered over with kicked up sand.

But no one is paying attention to him, right? Singe continues to follow Spinister as Spinister circles around the plans, and where they were standing is soon trampled over, muffling any trace of disturbance. No, Singe did not just drop a disc containing the plans for a holo training room and numerous base defenses where it will likely be found by Hook the moment he moves to add on to his plans. That would be ridiculous.

After some studying, Spinister notes, "The Autobots have fliers. Enough that anti-aircraft defenses would be useful, in addition to countermeasure against ground-based vehicles. Also, are you taking into account the arrival site in the mine?" He glances over at Eye-fire and remembers their earlier agreement. "Needs a firing range, too."

Singe, showing a practised deftness, grabs Spinister's leg and scales it. He then swings around, grabs onto the back of Spinister's tailboom, climbs up his back, and onto his shoulder. Spinister doesn't twitch a blade at the Nebulan's touch. From his perch on Spinister's shoulder, Singe pipes up, "Hook? We at least need indoor plumbing. For us. I can't run out and take a leak behind a bush if we're under attack, and I don't think you want me going on the floor. Showers would be nice, too. We tend to get stinky after a while. I'm not even going to ask for dedicated quarters or anything, although they'd be nice. Spinister can sacrifice some of his shelf space for my bunk, right?"

Spinister looks as if he would rather not.

[Eye-fire]

"I doubt we'd have space to build one long enough, Spinister" Eye-fire says still going over the diagram. He didn't mind bunking, as long as none of them tired to draw things on his optic lens with a magic marker.

"Automated defenses tend to be.... poor on both Autobot and Decepticon bases."

[Sky-byte]

Well if Dead End wants a garage because he's a Stunticon, then Sky-byte wants a giant swimming pool because he's a shark.

Satisfied with the location of the exit tunnels, Sky-byte ponders the plans for a couple more seconds before noticing the little figure clambering up Spinister. What's this? He zeroes in on the helmet-less head and boggles. A Decepticon willingly dealing with an organic like this? How...novel. But, why? Why not? Sky-byte wouldn't mind rooming with the little organic. More room for him.

And a throne? "Why on Earth would we need a throne?" he snorts.

[Hook]

"Because he's Starscream." Hook answers drily. "As I have said before, Starscream, the crewquarters are easily expanded upon either aboveground or undermountain. The current design saves time and resources. This is only a temporary shelter, recall."

"The garage/hangar/ready room concept has merit, Dead End." Bask! Bask in that praise! It's the most anyone has gotten out of Hook in months.

"Adequately high enough?" Hook gives Starscream a slightly quizzical, slightly 'you make no sense whatsoever' look. The need for a throne-room goes unremarked upon and filed away under 'ignorable'.

"The arrival site has been taken into account." The Constructicon continues to use that projected white beam of energy as a pointer. "Observe the location of the security center as well as the structurally-based security on the plans. No, I have not gotten more detailed than that yet."

In all honesty, Hook is used to having design parameters when it comes to security. Otherwise the Constructicons have the bad habit of establishing 'guards' as their only security. Then again, they like to engineer things that blow up spectacularly when damaged slightly.

Then Singe pipes up, and Hook looks distinctly nonplussed. He'd utterly forgotten about those two's organic guns and hadn't taken account for them at all! Mortifying. This was why Scrapper didn't let him make plans.

"I'll need some sort of specifications for what you four can tolerate," he finally says.

[Dead End]

Hook continues to be sensible, if a bit pedantic. Dead End approves of Hook's approval; it shows that Hook is capable of recognizing intelligent suggestions from his subordinates. Starscream's comment about the 'Omega Supreme factor' puzzles Dead End as well.

"Perhaps he expects some arrivals to be on the large side?" Dead End murmurs.

Fortunately, the Stunticon's mask hides his smirk of amusement at Starscream's request for a throneroom. How very Starscream. Sooner or later he'd probably come out with that hideous pink cape and crown, too! Oh well, bad taste in decor was much more tolerable in a superior than a taste for sadistic mayhem... toward his subordinates.

"Alas, the California Building Code was not one of the publications I found interesting enough to scan and retain," Dead End says to Hook before wandering off.

[Starscream]

Starscream looked indignant at Hook. "Throne, commander's chair, pick a term that makes you happy and be done with it!" Pedantic little..

Then he addressed Hook and Dead End a the same time. "As far as defenses go, we encountered some dirigibles while you two dealt with your mining drones." Starscream said to Hook and Dead End. "We have some weaponry, and marked the location of the rest of the remains." We can send people for it later.

To Singe, he says. "I'd sooner NOT have your kind stinking out the base any more than necessary.." Ah, Starscream, always willing to get on well with others. Still, he's going to object f any further amenities are going to be extended to the humans. Okay, they're not really humans but Starscream doesn't know this. To Spinister he says, "Your 'Neb-Yoolon' friends aren't staying in the armoury with the rest of the guns. And since they're your charges, I think that they should stay with you. Hook can fashion a pet-flap for your room so that they can come and go as needed."

[Spinister]

"Not everyone is a sniper," Spinister notes to Eye-fire. Surely, Hook can put a firing range for normal people in there somewhere. "But you do have a point."

If Singe knew that Sky-byte wouldn't mind bunking with him, he really wouldn't know what to make of that. He'd be flattered, maybe? However Singe doesn't know what Sky-byte's thinking, and that's probably a good thing.

Singe does indeed resemble a human when he has his helmet off. One would need to cut him open to be able to tell the difference between his people and the humans of Earth, and Singe generally tries to avoid being cut open. He snaps, "We aren't pets! I'm a soldier. I'm just shorter than you machines." Gesturing at Hook, he rambles, "What we can tolerate? Thing is, I'm sure that Sunbeam's going to tell you that he'll die unless you put in a beach and small ocean. Inside the base. You need to ignore him when he says that. We could use a kitchen, a place to store food without spoiling, showers, and quarters, scaled to us. You can stick Hairsplitter and I in with Spinister, but you'd better give him extra room to account for us. Also, we don't sleep on metal like you guys." He hikes a thumb back at Spinister. "I don't know if you have any experience with textiles, but soft cloth filled with something fluffy and not toxic is a good idea for a bunk cover."

Please don't ask Singe to explain what actually goes in a kitchen. He usually lets Hairsplitter do the cooking. Hairsplitter may be neurotic about following his blasted little recipes, but at least he doesn't burn anything he attempts to make. Singe can burn water. He calls it a gift, but it's mainly a curse.

Something hits Singe, and he adds, "And, uh? Fresh air is good. There's something in our suits that cycles and cleans air for us if we can't get it fresh. Spinister you have the plans for our suits on us, right?"

Spinister withdraws a datadisc, of a distinctly different style than the datadisc buried innocuously in the sand, and holds it out for Hook. It not only contains plans for the Nebulans' suits but also general notes on the care and keeping of Nebulans. Someone paid attention when Vorath was explaining things. Someone just doesn't want his gun to be dead when he needs it. That done, he turns to follow after Dead End, noting, "Singe, you can bother the engineer later. I'd better go check on whatever the smelt is causing that racket."

Spinister also wanted to check on the shout earlier, but Dead End may need cover. He doesn't want Dead End to die before he can interview him! That would be... embarrassing. Singe buckles his helmet back on, sighing, and tranforms for Spinister. The Targetmaster stalks out of the area, heading after Dead End and toward the mine.

[Eye-fire]

"I suppose I'll be doing open air target practice then." Eye-fire says shrugging as he begins to walk away.

"If I'm needed for anything, I'll be around town." he says walking off.