Teahouse of the Decepticon Moon

[Sable Conolly]

Scourge sets his cup down and listens to the music. It's not quite appropriate, but when it seems to be reaching an appropriate point, he folds open his hands and explains, "We may already have, but I'm afraid I can't say more than that."

"But I do suspect we actually do have a lot of information about their troops and capacities that just needs to be combed and correlated. When I was in the library, I ran across a small teal Autobot, for instance. There may be someone else here who could identify her based off my description. There is always the trouble of near body-doubles with different capacities and temperaments, however."

Scourge stretches one of his shoulders slightly, unwinding a fraction, and he concludes, "Keep your optics open. I won't say no to capturing an Autobot, should one fall into our laps, and I won't say no to an agent aboard their ship."

[Rook]

Rook raises one eyeridge, teacup halfway to his mouth, when Scourge mentions that they might already have an agent on the Event Horizon. "That is the sort of thing it would have been useful to know earlier, Lord Scourge."

He nods along when the tanker mentions already having a lot of information. "The problem is that our database is a rather haphazard mess. What is needed is a well-organized threat roster, with dossiers of each Autobot and Maximal, encrypted so as to be wireless accessible and searchable. It would save our troops from continually being unaware of the capabilities of opponents others have already fought."

"Things are being put into motion as we speak, sir. We'll have the information for you as soon as possible," the crow finishes.

[Sable Conolly]

"That's what I said," Scourge replies, optics suggesting a grimace. He grabs up his cup of tea and takes a rather large sip.

He observes rather dryly, "You can have your men organise the database - and please do - but you could have the most beautiful database, and it would mean nothing if the troops don't read it."

Some of them won't. It's frustrating. Smashing datapads into their faces is not actually the same thing as making them read.

[Rook]

"I agree completely, sir. By making the database remotely searchable, we can access it in combat when we need a quick run-down of our Autobot foes, rather than trying to convince the troops to read in their off-time." If they put it on a separate server from the main database, then even if the Autobots manage to tap the wireless signal, they won't learn anything new.

"Unless Barricade objects, I think I'll tap Phobia to start gathering and collating information.¹ He could use the confidence boost," the crow observes.



1. If his player is amenable, naturally!

[Sable Conolly]

"I suppose they could learn what we know about them, but worrying that they know that we know gets a bit Byzantine after a while," Scourge reasons, waving a hand dismissively.

Rook has a knack for delegation, Scourge is noticing. That's useful. Rook also pays attention to his men in some detail, befitting for his station.

[Rook]

Rook thinks like a civilian appointed official. Somewhere deep in his spark of sparks, he figures if he pays attention to his men and keeps them happy, he might become a civilian elected official.

The crow takes another sip of tea, tapping a claw on the side of his teacup as he looks out the "window" at the falling Space Cherry blossoms. "Mindwipe's been dispatched to the docking station. I'd like to tap Frenzy to infiltrate the Event Horizon, but I feel that would be stepping on the tips of Commander Barricade's stabilizing servos." And if there's one thing Rook does not want to do, it's piss off his ill-tempered giant boss.

[Sable Conolly]

The military is no place for elected officials. Tyrannies are no place for elected officials. Rook has odd goals.

Scourge considers Rook's dilemma. Scourge would just commandeer Frenzy. He's not afraid of Barricade murdering him in his recharge (maybe he should be). On the other hand, Rook's really not much bigger than Frenzy, is Rook? Looks like Rook could probably fit in Barricade's trunk, if Barricade bent Rook in some uncomfortable ways. Scourge does not think any good comes from being able to fit inside Barricade's trunk and then bossing around Barricade's stereo.

He says finally, shrugging, "Ask them both?"

[Rook]

Rook is an odd bird, but he comes from an odd universe. He knows he's not actually going to get elected to anything here in this reality, that's just the mindset he carries with him.

"I shall have to ask him next time I see him, if he's not too busy with his police work."

[Sable Conolly]

"I find, that if you let people be busy without interruption, they continue to be busy," Scourge remarks, sipping his tea and looking off at one of the holos of a great wave. "The only time you'll ever get with such a busy person is the time you make yourself."

[Rook]

"Oh, I'm sure I can find a way to get his attention," Rook says, the corner of his mouth quirking upward ever-so-slightly. He could track down Barricade and get his input on their current plans. Or he could just continue to shoulder more and more of the responsibility of running the Comm/Intel Division until he's in charge of it in all but name.

Then again, he does fit in Barricade's trunk.

"Yes, I'll track him down."

[Sable Conolly]

"Good," is all Scourge says.

He's covered all he can think of, and yet he has a nagging, crawling sensation in his processors that he is forgetting both something huge and several small details.

So he takes a moment to try to chill out, sip some tea, and check out hologram willow trees.

[Rook]

Rook knows that feeling. It's the feeling you get when you're about to meet with the Maximal consulate and you didn't have time to read the pertinent documents.

The bird continues sipping his tea. If there's anything else Scourge needs, Rook is sure he'll mention it.


OOC: Moving toward a wrap?