Book Quest: Crystal City

Bonus! Special Edition Team Whiteout: Ramjet

Ramjet stands at the same height as his airborne colleagues, Dirge and Thrust. He has the typical Decepticon warrior look -- yellow-detailed blue intakes on his shoulders, opaque yellow glass on his chest, and legs formed from F-15 engines. His wings separate into two portions -- winglets on his back and larger, engine-sporting ones fastened to the sides of his lower legs. Rifles adorn his arms and his crimson head tapers off into a thicky-plated, silver-capped cone. Ramjet frequently has a look of mild irritation, the kind you'd get from having a perpetual low-grade headache.

Command - Argosy

The command deck is predominantly coloured purple, with brightly polished gold and silver for accents such as rails and borders. The front of the space is taken up by an expansive video display, which typically shows the airbase's forward view but can also show an image from any of the ship's sensors or a simulated isometric battlefield image. The different stations on the command deck are arranged in tiers, with Propulsion and Navigation consoles on the lowest rank. The middle tier features an Engineering station which oversees all of the airbase's technical specifications, and is flanked by a pair of Weapons stations, allowing manual control of the airbase's offensive and defensive weaponry. At the back of the command deck and on the highest tier is the throne-like captain's chair, which allows the current commander of the airbase to direct the bridge crew as well as assume manual control over any of the base's systems. Additional seating on the top tier can be raised from the floor.

The base is currently at Sky above New Crystal City. The base sensors are on.

See  for navigational and security commands.

Contents:

Reflector

Ramjet

Obvious exits: Down leads to Hallway - Argosy.

Blitzwing has arrived.

Catechism is looking for someone, as she often is, these days. Her stride is purposeful, her look focused. The medics at the Argosy have repaired her hand and removed that foolish beard from her face, so her looks are back to normal. Inside her cockpit, there is perhaps a bit something shiny that there wasn't before. She pauses, looking to see if anyone she needs is in here.

And someone is. Ramjet, looking more festive than usual, reclines in his favorite seat: the Argosy's command chair. His now-blue(!) fingers steepled together, resting against ebon lips in thought. He is mostly thinking about his itinerary for the day, which is mostly to involve figuring out what the key of St-- oh hey there's Catechism.

Reflector sits at one of the command stations, hands resting on the keys as he studies the data presented to him. The other two of him also huddle nearby, keeping an eye on Ramjet and the door. "Hello, Catechism."

Blitzwing is lounging around with his feet up on a console, cleaning his knuckle joints with the tip of his ka-bar.

THEY ARE: THE DIRTY FOUR

Catechism manages to recognise Ramjet, mostly because he told her that he was thinking about a new paintjob. Something Blueshift told her about Ramjet has her worried. It's not like she trusted Ramet prior; it's just that she actively distrusts him now. There are Reflector and Blitzwing. Perfect. She grins widely and greets, "Hello, men. Reflector, you wanted to talk to me? Funny, because I need to talk to you - and you too, Blitzwing." Ramjet will already have an idea what is about to go down.

Blitzwing points at Ramjet. "He said there would be scrap to... scrap. On a special mission. So here I am."

Ramjet casts a look at the Reflector component looking at him. "What're -you- looking at?" He asks with a brow furrowed in mild irritation. "Shouldn't you be...." He tilts his red and silver head up, past one Reflector component to look at the other sitting at a command station. "...oh. I guess you are. Uh. Carry on?" Ramjet makes a 'blah-at-you!' face before looking back to the viewscreen. He continues tapping his fingertips against his lower lip, thinking. Thinking. Thinking. With that anxious look soon rolling in over his facial features, you just know he is ITCHING to do a 'Captain's Log' audio blog.

From out of Ramjet's peripheral, something twinkles. He glances for it -- fixating on a set of lighted buttons and shiny, knurled knobs projecting from the arm-rest on which his elbow is propped. "....!" Ramjet lifts his right brow-ridge in curiousity. Oh sweet temptation. If Transformers could sweat, a droplet would be rolling down the side of his face...  .. just then, two imaginary Ramjets appear on either side of Ramjet's be-rifle'd shoulders! bamf! One is the typical white-and-black Ramjet. The other a sinister teal and purple.

 Inquisitra arrives from Mount R'lyeh.

 Inquisitra has arrived.

 Inquisitra flies to the Skies above the Southwest Pacific.

 Inquisitra has left.

"You need to talk to me." Reflector sounds rather dubious, especially as he eyes the various jets in the room. "About a special mission."

Ramjet glances to the Ramjet on the right. The teal-and-purple Decepticon squeals in a tiny voice, "Do it!! DO IT!!! You deserve this!!! Oh glorious moment, seize it! Seize it like you should!" Real Ramjet's optics widen at such a prospect. He then glances to the Ramjet on his left. The white-and-black Decepticon need merely bob his head in agreement. "Uh. Gonna hafta agree on that one!" Ramjet turns his face back to the viewscreen and grins.. ooh-hoo-hoo.

 Avalanche arrives from the NCC Residential Ribs.

 Avalanche has arrived.

 Avalanche flies to the Skies above the Southwest Pacific.

 Avalanche has left.

Catechism narrows her optics. Ramjet told Blitzwing that, did he? She sighs and waves a hand dramatically, commenting, "I really don't think that was what you wanted to talk about, Reflector, but we're going to have plenty of time together, you see." She opens up her cockpit and withdraws some official papers from Megatron, waving them as her cockpit snaps shut. "I am requisitioning you. Welcome to Team Whiteout, everyone. First rule of Team Whiteout: you don't talk about Team Whiteout to anyone who isn't here or Megatron. Second rule of Team Whiteout: Team Whiteout does not exist. Savvy?"

Reflector glances sharply at Ramjet. Someone has just noticed shiny buttons. Someone who is notorious for ramming other planes in mid-air, headbutting people who look at him funny, and losing fights with walls. "Sitting in the command chair is a privilege, not a right."Oh, hey, papers. One of the Reflector components darts over to Catechism to get a look at the papers. "What, exactly, are we erasing?"

Ramjet had actually told Blitzwing nothing! But he is too wrapped up in his little delusion to care about correcting Blitzwing. Instead, a cheshire-grinning blue-and-white Ramjet sinks slightly further into the chair. His left hand reaches back, blue-plated fingertips caressing the console and its buttons and knobs. Lips slightly parted, Ramjet indulges in a silent and mostly mental chuckle as he reaches back and presses a button!! "Captain's LOG..." Ramjet mutters, ".. Galactic Standard Date, July 6th, 2029. I am soon to embark on a mission of total secrecy. It is so secret that I cannot mention it. All I can say is that I decided to go get a new paintjob for it and I look frakkin' AWESOME." Ramjet lets go of the button and looks satisfied, like he did right after reaming Fusillade in Carbombya or getting a cone-massage from Catechism ... also in Carbombya. Oh Carbombya. Most wrongly romantic place, ever.

"Right, not existing. Got it." Blitzwing keeps his feet up; being in a relaxed frame of mind is the first step in achieving the No-Self.

The papers are legit but rather vague, Catechism can requisition a certain number of Decepticons who meet certain requirements and also supplies and a shuttle to do go off and do some task. Looking around the room nervously, she explains what that actual purpose is, "Our task is to find the White Book of Primus before someone shows up, reads it, and rocks fall." Straxus, she just hopes that Ramjet doesn't run the Argosy into anything while making a Captain's log. "Blitzwing, you can fly a shuttle, right? Everyone, get what you need, and we will be departing."

Reflector blinks. All three of him blink. His hands freeze on the keyboard, inputting gibberish lines of Fs and Ks. "You're kidding. You're not kidding. You're simply crazy. You're taking me to look for a book, an illegal book, a MYTHICAL book, with... A team consisting of Ramjet and Blitzwing. Nngh. Library. We need to hit a library, a GOOD library, ON CYBERTRON. FIRST." Reflector's speech is tripping over himself somewhat, the three voices sufficiently out-of-synch that one is starting a sentence before the other finishes the last one.

"We are," chimes in Ramjet, having contented himself with the solar cycle's quota of jetfoolery. "Come, friend Reflectors. Did you think we were just going to run around, pointing rifles at people, demanding they turn over a book that may not exist before consulting our local library?" Ramjet smiles widely. "Besides, if we're lucky, we'll have plenty of rifle-pointing along the way, during, and after our trip to the library."

"What makes you think the 'White Book of Primus' even exists?" asks Blitzwing skeptically.

Reflector folds his arms. "You run into jets for a living, Ramjet. No, I wouldn't be at all surprised if that was your method."

Catechism has to be entirely insane, yes. She does indeed want to take Ramjet, who specifically hates Airwolf, and Blitzwing, who is Blitzwing, to a library in Crystal City. She sees that Reflector grasps just what madness it is that she is unleashing here. She smiles innocently and bobs her head in affirmation, agreeing cheerily, "That's right! We're going to Crystal City's library." To Blitzwing, she answers, "Because twos are lame. Threes are much better. Ramjet, Dirge, Thrust. Blitzwing, Astrotrain, Octane. Reflector. All threes!"

You send a radio message to Reflector: If we run into Airwolf, you go and keep her busy, because you're honestly the smartest of us here, and I think Ramjet wants to murder her.

You receive a radio message from Reflector: Is she going to be helping us in our search, or is she going to deal with the request in the usual method?

You send a radio message to Reflector: I really have no idea. Technically, she's a Decepticon, but she's a wussy Decepticon who might as well be neutral.

You receive a radio message from Reflector: Why don't you keep her busy while I do library research then?

You send a radio message to Reflector: Because Ramjet might follow me!

You receive a radio message from Reflector: *drily* Your logic is impeccable. As you wish.

Blitzwing sucks his teeth for a long moment while he thinks about this. "And there IS, apparently, a grey and a black. Okay, yeah. Yeah, I can fly a spaceship."

Catechism raises a finger over her lips and cautions quietly, "Careful who you mention that to, Blitzwing. Now, shall we be off?"

Reflector gathers himself together, both figuratively and literally. "I will need to collect a few items from my darkroom. Research materials. Of various sorts. I will only be a moment."

Ramjet snorts at the Reflectors. "I also make my living bustin' trooper chops and securing Imperial interests. So get a move on it, Reflector. We don't have all day."

Ramjet has left.

Ramjet enters the Decepticon Shuttle .

Blueshift has left.

Blueshift enters the Decepticon Shuttle .

Reflector has left.

Reflector enters the Decepticon Shuttle .

You enter the Decepticon Shuttle .

Decepticon Shuttle 

The interior of the shuttle is very roomy. There is a highly technical cockpit that seats numerous bots at various stations, and a huge cargo area for additional troops or equipment.

This vessel requires Space-Pilot to use. Syntax: DO  - IE. do east, do +profile, do attack scourge=laser. l/o           - Looks outside.

Thing Contents:

Reflector

Blueshift

Ramjet

Guiltor Killer

Blitzwing has arrived.

Guiltor Killer

A few small blinking lights line up across the smooth metal casing of this small ovoid object, next to a small black screen and a keypad. Flexible rubber insulation fills the seams where the metal panels of the object join.

Catechism is a bit entranced by the bomb that happens to be sitting inside of the Conquest II. Must. Resist. Urge. To tinker with bomb. She doesn't have her certs yet. Steeling herself, she takes a set fairly near the front, since there won't be a lot of them here.

Blueshift is sitting on top of the bomb, kicking his feet on it. "Didn't we even blow this thing up?" he wonders out loud. "And are why is a shuttle inside the command deck? So many mysteries..."

Ramjet steps into the shuttle to find Blueshift sitting on top of a bomb. "....!" His optics widen. Didn't Goldpaver say one of the -shifts must die? Flickering his optics in disbelief, Ramjet gives his red-and-silver head a good shake before finding himself a seat. "Hnnh. Interesting times we live in, Blueshift. Interesting times."

"Don't sit on that, that's fragile," Blitzwing chides Blueshift as he boards the shuttle and heads up to the cockpit. "Is there some reason why we're not just using the spacebridge, by the way?"

Catechism hopes that it is Bumbleshift who must die. Maybe then, at last, they can have Goldshift. She explains, "We may need to run away, really, really fast. Shuttles are good for that."

"Hokay," replies Blitzwing, flopping into the pilot's seat and flicking absentmindedly at the controls, sending the shuttle lurching down the launchstrip. Is he really a rocket scientist? They'll let anybody learn this stuff these days.

Outside, You move to the Hallway - Argosy.

[travel spam]

Outside, Sky above New Crystal City

Outside, Nowhere on Earth is the Decepticon claim to the skies more fiercely asserted. Situated off the coast of New Zealand, the silvery blue gleam of the city's sections bristle against the cyberformed volcano like ribs on a multi-kilometer shark skeleton. Spires angle like wicked anglerfish teeth from the skull-like spaceport and command centers. The area is subject to marine storms, a minor concern in the face of Seekers that scream through the skies on their perimeter patrols. Sweeps, shuttles, and war parties returning from missions can be seen as well. No sea birds and few humans or Autobots survive their ventures into this airspace.

Outside,

Contents:

Decepticon Airbase 

Outside, Obvious exits:

Outside, Up Docks  Spaceport  Residential  Mt. R'lyeh

Blueshift holds on tight as the shuttle blasts through the hallway. "AAAAAAARGH"

Blitzwing does not turn on any music as he sends the shuttle up through the atmosphere. What is he, Mesa?

Outside, You fly to the Skies above the Southwest Pacific.

[travel spam]

Outside, Stratosphere above Western Hemisphere

Outside, From this high up, the curve of the Earth is visible, dominated by the North and South American continents. The Rockies and Andes flow into each other, forming the spine of both landmasses. To the north, summer strips the Arctic Ocean of its wintry coat of ice, while Antarctica remains stubbornly frozen year round. The impact of forest reclamation in South America is apparent even in these altitude-darkened skies. The grainy sprawl of white rooftops and blacktop streets marks the advance of the North American megalopolises, and spacecraft headed toward New York's and California's spaceports zoom past on their way to space.

Outside,

Contents:

A-10 Thunderbolt

Outside, Obvious exits:

Outside, Orbit leads to Earth Orbit.

Outside, Longitudinal leads to Stratosphere above Eastern Hemisphere.

Outside, Down leads to Stratosphere above Atlantic Ocean.

Outside, Down leads to Stratosphere above North America.

Outside, Down leads to Stratosphere above Pacific Ocean.

Outside, Down leads to Stratosphere above South America.

Outside, Decepticon Shuttle  roars up through the atmosphere on a pillar of billowing white smoke which originates far below, somewhere over the ocean.

Outside, A-10 Thunderbolt gags, "Look at that ugly thing."

Blitzwing points out the window. "Hey look, it's that little red Bot plane. Should we stop to beat him up or what?"

Outside, A-10 Thunderbolt snorts, "That thing is uglier than Foxfire. And, DAYUM, he's nasty."

Outside, A-10 Thunderbolt continues, "That thing is uglier than our shuttle. And ours looks like Sludge."

Outside, Decepticon Shuttle <Conquest II> keeps on flying by, looking ugly as SIN! The rocket that launches out of it towards the little red plane as it goes by looks pretty vile too.

Outside, A-10 Thunderbolt evades your Main Guns attack.

Catechism sits forward in her seat and snaps, "That little twerp. How dare her say that about our awesome shuttle?"

Outside, A-10 Thunderbolt wiggles from side to side, "Woah! I thought the SHIP was ugly! Check out that rocket!" There's a little flash of light as he takes a picture of it, "That's goin' up on WorldsWorst.com, for sure!"

Blueshift hefts up the Guiltor bomb. "Hey, shall I just chuck this out the bomb bay?"

"Why not," calls back Blitzwing. "Just remember to set it for the shortest possible delay."

Catechism will probably try to take the bomb apart if someone doesn't take it away from her. No one wants to see Catechism take a bomb apart. She's not any good at it, for one thing. So sighing, she agrees, "Do it, Blueshift."

Blitzwing adds, "It'll help us get there faster. Drag in space, you know."

Outside, A-10 Thunderbolt does a little barrel roll, "Ugly. Like a Sky Lynx! Hoo!"

Outside, Decepticon Shuttle <Conquest II> rolls over to show Powerglide its cargo bay hatch! Is it opening? It's opening!

Blueshift rolls the bomb over to the cargo bay door and boots it out. "Byeeee!"

Outside, A large bomb flies out of the hatch towards Powerglide :(

Outside, A-10 Thunderbolt would frown if he had a face right now. "Oh, fuuuuuuuu"

Outside, The bomb goes "BEEP BEEP BEEP BOOOOOOOOOP!" And a sad smiley face appears on it

Outside, *ping*

Outside, You are caught in the main force of the explosion and take 50 points of damage.

"Whoah, whoah, not THAT short a delay!" exclaims Blitzwing as he manhandles the controls.

<Decepticon> Scavenger says, "When did I become Onslaught's... too late now. Oh Primus. Oh.. this thing's on."

Catechism is rocked back in her seat by the explosion. Oooooh, pretty! She claps in glee. Catechism is easily pleased, it seems.

Blitzwing hits the fire-retardant-foam switch and stabilizes their flight. "Okay, no more of those for now."

Reflector looks up from his camantid drone as the explosion rocks the shuttle. Hmm. He almost regrets the promise to himself that he's not baby-sitting grown Decepticon warriors. But he has a camantid to play with. Glee!

Outside, Decepticon Shuttle <Conquest II> wobbles around in the blast wave but keeps heading upwards, rocketing away from the planet.

Outside, A-10 Thunderbolt goes careening towards the ground, "WITH MY LAST BREATH, I BLAME SILVERBOLT."

Catechism aies when Blitzwing hits the switch! She pleads, "Fire retardant foam? But that makes Decepticons short out, Blitzwing! You mean outside, right?"

Outside, A-10 Thunderbolt stops and realigns himself, "Oh wait, I'm fine."

Blueshift gets covered in foam and falls to the ground sparking. "Aaargh, foam my enemy!"

Outside, "I BLAME SILVERBOLT, ANYWAY, THAT JERK."

Catechism ducks under her seat to hide from the foam, just in the nick of time and demands, "Why in the world did we install this junk on our own shuttles?"

"No no, it's cool, it's just on the engines, not in the hull," replies Blitzwing hurriedly.

Except there is a hole in the hull.

That explains Blueshift, then!

Blitzwing looks around. "Aw, cybercrap. Hold on, lemme find... wait, the switch to turn off the foam is covered in foam. Blitzwing gets up to find a stick or something to switch off the foam-covered foam switch.

Outside, Decepticon Shuttle <Conquest II> starts wobbling all over the place as it leaves the atmosphere, like the pilot had just gotten up to go do something.

Outside, You maneuver through space towards the Earth Orbit.

[travel spam]

Outside, Terrestrial Planets <Sol>

Outside, As you travel along what might be considered the organic life belt of the Solar System, the gleaming dots of Earth and Mars visible as they reflect the brilliant light of the Sun. This part of space seems much more cluttered as various defunct space probes from NASA and... others, litter the void.

Outside,

Contents:

Autobot Sensor #3383

Mars

Asteroid Belt

Earth

Outside, Obvious exits:

Outside, Rimward leads to Gas Giants <Sol>.

Outside, Coreward leads to Core <Sol>.

Outside, Decepticon Shuttle <Conquest II> zooms by the Autobot sensor.

Blitzwing flips the finger to it in passing.

Blitzwing comes back with a mop and turns off the foam switch. "Man, I hate this stuff. Okay, off to Cybertron! All the extra weight dumped?"

"UGH!" Ramjet grunts, pawing at his repainted chassis to pull away the foam. "I blame Constructicons for this!"

Blueshift is now on his feet again, and holding a scanner up. "Hmm, I think there's a bit too many electrons about here guys. Also some Dinosaur Electrons too."

Catechism crawls out from under her seat and eyes Blitzwing's mop warily. She's had some bad run-ins with mops before. She looks around and comments wryly, "We've dumped out that bomb and most of the foam, so we should be good to go." She retakes her now foam-free seat.

THROUGH A MICROSCOPE

Dinosaur-shaped subatomic particles whirl and flicker around a nitrogen atom floating around in the ship. One of them emits the smallest possible 'rar' and bites another one.

WOOHA

Blitzwing wipes off his seat before he retakes the controls. All the air got out through the hole in the hull, but that's okay, none of them breathe.

Outside, You travel through local space to the Gas Giants <Sol>.

[travel spam]

Outside, You travel through local space to the Sol System.

Outside, Sol System

Outside, This star system, tucked in an obscure corner of the Milky Way, seems ordinary enough at first glance. At its heart is a yellow, G-type star named Sol. An asteroid belt between the fourth and fifth planets makes a convenient dividing line; the four inner planets are small and rocky, while the four outer ones are gas giants. Beyond the outer planets are a number of borderline planetoids, such as Pluto, Sedna, and Quaoar. The system is also home to many comets, moons, and stray asteroids.

From this vantage point, it's not readily apparent that the third planet is home to a complex society, including billions of lives whose future may depend on the outcome of the Transformers' civil war, in which it has been unwittingly caught up.

Outside,

Contents:

Fringe <Sol>

Outside, Obvious exits:

Outside, Above Plane leads to Deep Space - Paraplanar.

Outside, Spinward leads to Deep Space - Galactic Plane.

Outside, Coreward leads to Trifid Nebula.

Outside, Rimward leads to Deep Space - Galactic Plane.

Outside, Below Plane leads to Deep Space - Subplanar.

Blitzwing pauses to consult a map. "Uh, does anyone remember which way Cybertron is? I don't fly out this way very often since the spacebridges went up."

Ramjet groans as he slides his hand against his face. This is going to be a long trip.

Outside, Orbit of Cybertron

Outside, The world lies below you in remote splendor, all imperfections removed by distance and the obscuration of the enveloping atmosphere. The icy vacuum of space envelops you here, sparkling with jeweled stars that blaze with unearthly brightness. In the face of this immensity, it is impossible to feel anything but small...

Outside,

Contents:

Decepticon Sensor #6832

Decepticon Space Station <Con Space 1>

Autobot Sensor #5962

Outside, Obvious exits:

Outside, Escape Orbit leads to Cybertron System.

Outside, Down leads to Stratosphere above Eastern Hemisphere.

Outside, Down leads to Stratosphere above Western Hemisphere.

Outside, Nightsiege Spaceport CC  Trypticon Iahex Polyhex Spaceport

"Found it!" Blitzwing calls back to the others from the cockpit.

Outside, Crystal City Spaceport

Outside,

Capable of handling multiple incoming and outgoing spacecraft, the gleaming new spaceport is an efficient layout of several large and small hangars, various warehouses, three launchpads with corresponding terminals, and three tall control towers, all of the indigo steel/titanium alloy typical of Crystal City's new design. Unlike the rest of the city, though, this area has very few of the city's namesake crystals on the exterior, as a concentration of them would interfere with visual and sometimes even instrumental navigation. Traffic is infrequent, despite the facility's capacity, and usually consists of occasional alien freighters. Passengers are equally rare, and the waiting rooms typically empty. Due to the lack of personnel, almost all functions are automated.

Outside,

Contents:

Hangar #1148

Sensor 7274

Shuttle Terminal - Crystal City

Outside, Obvious exits:

Outside, North leads to Memorial Square.

Outside, Northeast leads to Industrial Park.

Outside, Northwest leads to Emporium.

Outside, Launch leads to Orbit of Cybertron.

Outside, Fly Subway System

Outside, Decepticon Shuttle <Conquest II> descends, steaming and whistling and ticking before it settles (a bit wobbly) onto the pad.

Blitzwing spins around in his seat. "Okay, so what's our plan? We just go knock and ask?"

Ramjet shrugs. "Why not?"

Catechism looks over at the hole in the hull and mutters, "I had better have someone look at that." More loudly, she explains, "We don't want people to know what we're after, so we'll go in quiet-like, right? Just say that we want to look at some... books."

"Yes. Books. In a library. The shock will surely kill them." Reflector transfers the camantid drone to one of his other arms. "I presume this the point where I plug into the main library banks and lose several days while I chase down any and all references, pseudo-references, implications, and weirdness that might possibly be related to what we're looking for. Please correct me if you have any actual leads."

Catechism snorts and corrects, "We may not have days, Reflector. But let's get going. Try to look casual, like... you visit the library all the time." She covers her face with a hand. They are so doomed, and she isn't even Dirge. She unbuckles herself and moves to exit.

Blitzwing wears an extremely skeptical expression as he conceals as many weapons as possible about his person so they aren't completely obvious, and follows Catechism, treads clanking.

Ramjet undoes his safety clasp and lifts to his feet. He follows Catechism out.

You leave the Decepticon Shuttle <Conquest II>.

[travel spam]

You move northeast to Academe.

Academe

Intended to be a storehouse of knowledge and the basis of research, the Academe district is structured along the lines of a university campus. The indigo steel/titanium outbuildings are of a consistent, midrange height, bejeweled with sparkling crystals in intricate patterns and linked by a complex array of interconnecting, multi-level sky and walkways. Inside, the buildings extend several stories underground as well as aboveground and are organized into lecture halls, laboratories, and workshops. In the library, what's left of the original city records are neatly indexed and available for access. However, though there is room for many, many students and instructors, the classrooms and halls are usually empty, open doors waiting to welcome students.

Obvious exits: Northeast leads to Tower Promenade. South leads to Emporium. Southeast leads to Memorial Square. Southwest leads to Entertainment Sector.

Blitzwing arrives from the Entertainment Sector to the southwest.

Blitzwing has arrived.

Ramjet arrives from the Entertainment Sector to the southwest.

Ramjet has arrived.

Reflector arrives from the Entertainment Sector to the southwest.

Reflector has arrived.

Catechism is really hoping that they don't run into Airwolf, as she leads her ragtag Team Whiteout through Crystal City in all its glittering glory. For one thing, she really doesn't want to explain why they're here. For another, she might have to break up a fight if Airwolf shows. She stops at the front door of the library and announces, playing Captain Obvious since Shockwave isn't here, "We're here."

"No kiddin'." Ramjet says as he gives a look around. He feels rather jumpy -- though he should not be. Crystal City is likely the safest of all cities on Cybertron, given its chosen protector. Still, Ramjet decides to be better safe than sorry. Turning his red-and-silver head to the left and right, he flexes his fingers into his palm and pushes into the library ahead of Catechism.

Blitzwing squints at everyone he passes, making little twitching gestures with the trigger fingers of his empty hands. They look warily back at him; he's obviously an elite-class Decepticon from his size, and while most of them don't know him, they're not used to seeing his kind walking around in the Diplomatic City. "Do we need cards? I don't think I have my card," worries Blitzwing as he approaches the forbidding librarian.

Ramjet adds, flippantly, "I've got my card right here." He motions to the rifle attached to his arm.

Reflector keeps looking around, optics always scanning the area. This is normal. Staring straight ahead would attract far more attention than being jittery and watching things. "Violence only solves most problems, Ramjet. Not all of them." A component slips past the two big jets and approaches the head librarian. The one with the camantid disappears into the stacks, despite someone's dismay at him carrying a recon drone around with him. The third stays near Catechism.

Blitzwing wishes he had his guns attached permanently to his body. Maybe if he could make his tank barrel drop down over his shoulder. But then the recoil would be off-center... maybe if he had TWO tank barrels and could make them both drop down over his shoulders. Yessss.

Catechism bets that Reflector actually has a library card. That's why he's here. Actually... Catechism has a library card. She used to check out books on tactics and strategy, but it's been a while. She decides to go talk to the librarian behind the desk to see about getting it renewed. Over her shoulder, she suggests, "Try the computerized catalogue."

"You heard her, Half-Pint-In-Triplicate." Ramjet says to Reflector as he motions to a terminal.

Blitzwing weighs his options: going through the process of filling out the forms to get a new library card, or loitering in the lobby with the homeless who smell of robo-urine.

Someday. Someday he will decide Ramjet has no further possibilities of being useful ever, and then the entire file on the conehead will be forwarded to Soundwave, Shockwave, Megatron, Galvatron, Starscream's grave, Optimus Prime's crypt, Autobot High Command, CNN, BBC, NBC, Ramjet's factory, and Fleetwind. But Reflector thinks that about everyone. Reflector nods to Ramjet and settles himself at the terminal. Typical catalogue-search. Might as well give that a try. Cue search based on 'Book of Primus', 'White Book of Primus', 'Black Book of Primus', 'Grey Book of Primus', and 'From Kaon With Love: A Spy Zine'. The one up front speaks briefly to the librarian, nods at her response, points at a terminal near his other component, then goes and sits down over there and starts another set of searches. The librarian, in turn, scares some of his staff into going to fetch some items.

The librarian-mech behind the counter smiles at Catechism with the slightly-strained smile of someone who has to do this for a living and secretly suspects he might want to kill her. "Can I help you?"

Ramjet folds his arms over his now-yellow chest and stands over Reflector, looking tough! If anyone decides to jack Reflector's components for the terminal, they'll be in for a nasty surprise!

Catechism rummages around in subspace as if she was shaking out her pocket, and she comes up with a bucket that was made out of the decapitated head of a vent-head Seeker. Oh, the Constructicons made that for her, after she... yeah, nevermind. She stuffs the head-bucket into subspace, trying not too look too guilty, and finally, she pulls out her old, expired library card. She inquires, "Yeah. Uh. Think I could get this renewed?" The card appears to have been dunked in acid.

Blitzwing looks over the forms and decides he's better off with the urine-soaked hobos. He turns away with a dull clanging sound and peruses the magazine racks instead. "Ooh, they have Jane's All The World's Missiles."

"The new issues of Jane's High-Powered Carbines should come in tomorrow," the librarian directs over at Blitzwing. He eyes the card, then pulls out a pair of tongs. Gingerly, he closes the tongs around the card, half-expecting it to fall apart or explode. "Name and designation?""

"Oh cool, thanks," replies Blitzwing. The librarian isn't so bad after all!

"Sever your leg help yourself you gotta buy a ticket if you wanna arrest me but I ain't goin," advises one of the homeless patrons before he vomits oil down his front.

"Man, you got more issues than the back catalogue of Iacon Bride," replies Blitzwing, shoving the reeking empty's chair away with one foot.

Catechism rattles off, with prim military accuracy, "Catechism, Air Warrior, Rank 2 - Wing Leader," which wing? Uh, that wing over there. The one back in New Crystal City. "Division: Aerospace." Does he want her factory serials, too? At least Blitzwing seems to have found something to pass his time. Her library card may well explode, if it got mixed up with her supply of C4 in subspace, but crumbling seems unlikely.

Ramjet twists his head to the side, eliciting a satisfying series of pops from his vertebral assembly. "Nnnh." He takes to leaning his hip against the housing of the terminal that Reflector works on. He looks very simply bored. Ramjet swore off being in libraries ever since earning his wings at the Academy.

"Yeah, yeah." Type, type. Profile comes up. He scans it, looks at her, scans it again. "It looks like you haven't done anything unforgivable..." He gestures vaguely with the tongs holding Catechism's old library card. "You _sure_ you want to renew this?"

Reflector blinks! "... That is a fascinating metal etching, but... Not quite what I'm looking for. I think that jet should have more plating. Or not. ... Ramjet, Seekers can't bend like that, can they?"

Catechism looks vaguely baffled and asks dully, "But I can't check out books with a card, right?" She's been good about getting her books back on time and hasn't eaten any... yet.

The librarian shrugs. "Yep. But a lot of you flyboys don't seem too needful of this place." Another shrug. He seems to be ignoring that he's also a Seeker. "So, renewal for one Catechism, Air Warrior, Rank 2, of the Aerospace Division. Standard or do you want any of the upgrades?"

Ramjet's optics flicker. He turns to look at whatever it is Reflector is looking at. "Uh.. copy that and send it to my e-mail address, Reflector. SkyKing-at-Decepticons-dot-Mil."

Catechism stares and points out, "Uh, I hate to break this to you, buddy, but you're a Seeker, too." That comment was not terribly useful, was it? Then, her optics narrow with inherent Decepticon greed. She inquires, trying to keep her enthusiasm out of her voice and largely failing, "Upgrades?"

Reflector says, "I think there's a whole series of this set... I suppose I'll have to look at them all to make sure none of them actually relate to our search."

Ramjet glances back to Catechism. He looks terribly smirky now, which is a rare sight for him as he is often sneering. "Mwah!" is the noise he makes as his ebon lips purse together and make kissy noises at Catechism.

The librarian's wings rise. "I am a librarian. I am not an-" He strangles off the rest of his rant, optics flickering a bit lower for the moment. "Upgrades. Longer check-out times, ability to take out the official copies of digital media - movies and suchlike, ability to take out the hardcopies if you want to pay through your afterburners."

Blitzwing sits down across from the filthy hobo and reads magazines. He's the driver and the muscle, research is not his forte.

Reflector continues to commit acts of research. Also, he sends Ramjet the requested etching, because he has a recording program on the systems to monitor that sort of thing. Beware the bored spy.

Wow, that librarian sure is touchy, isn't he? What, did he wash out of flight school or something? Catechism half-smirks as she considers the upgrades she could get to her library card. She ponders and asks, "At the moment, could anyone see what he," she gestures at Reflector, "or I check out?"

The librarian has issues. Then again, he works at a library. That's enough to give one either form of issues. "If they bribed someone, sure. All check-outs are recorded in the library computers."

Ramjet snorts. "Good to see that Decepticon Central Intelligence isn't the only paranoid bunch on this planet."

"Paranoia is for the weak. If you're doing your job correctly, everyone really is out to get you," Reflector mutters.

Catechism leans over the counter to whisper to the librarian and says, her demeanour entirely too friendly and cheerily, "... librarian, I... bribing someone." She withdraws her papers from Megatron. This city is neutral, and so is the library, but the cost of privacy will be going on the Empire's tab today. "That will be all, as far as upgrades to my library card go. And hey, could I maybe get a new one, while we're at it?"

Librarian senses, "Catechism leans over the counter to whisper to the librarian and says, her demeanour entirely too friendly and cheerily, "Then, my good librarian, I am bribing someone." She withdraws her papers from Megatron. This city is neutral, and so is the library, but the cost of privacy will be going on the Empire's tab today. "That will be all, as far as upgrades to my library card go. And hey, could I maybe get a new one, while we're at it?""

Ramjet stares at one of Reflector's components.

Reflector has decided the standard catalog-search will get him nowhere, and has pulled open a black-and-white text entry window. There is a small command-line prompt, and a whole lot of programming from Reflector.

The librarian takes the papers by the bottom corner, examines them carefully. "Ah. Yes, a new card is perfectly in order." He lowers his voice as he has to ask a question of the odd blue-grey woman.

Librarian whispers: And do you want it so no one can see what either of you check out, or you can see what he's checked out, or...?

Catechism replies lowly to the librarian, a chuckle in her voice, "... see... that... say... lock... so... see..."

Librarian senses, "Catechism replies lowly to the librarian, a chuckle in her voice, "Y'know, I think that I would like to see what he checks out, now that you say that, but lock it so no one else can see anything, please.""

Mesa has arrived.

"Hhhhnnhh.." Ramjet's blue shoulders rise with a heaving sigh. He has begun tapping his blue fingertips against his white 'bicep' out of boredom. "Uh.." He says, squinting his optics as he cranes his head far out to observe a running string of text. "Apparently.. books. By the frakload." Bobbing his silver-capped red cone at a wall-mounted display, he casts attention to a large advertisement...

VISIT PLANET BABEL.

MOST COMPLETE COLLECTION OF BOOKS IN THE HISTORY OF EVERY SPECIES.

NOW WITH ALL NATURAL SMOOTHIE BAR.

The librarian sighs a bit as he steps away to get her card together. He mutters something that Catechism might just catch.

Librarian whispers: Oh, he's going to kill me when he finds out...

Reflector leans back and follows Ramjet's line of sight. "What are you...?" Then he turns back to his terminal and lets his forehead thunk against the keyboard. "I hate you all."

Catechism is leaning over the main desk of the library, being awfully chatty with the librarian, who currently has her old library card held in pair of tongs. She assures the librarian, "Don't... kill things. For a... pilot... know... Shot... ago."

Librarian senses, "Catechism is leaning over the main desk of the library, being awfully chatty with the librarian, who currently has her old library card held in pair of She assures the librarian, "Don't worry. I kill things. For a living. I'm the ace pilot of Aerospace, you know that? Shot down Jetfire not too long ago.""

The sound of something bassy emits from outside the doors. As the doors swish open to reveal the form of Mesa, all doubt of where the music comes from ceases. The music itself lowers because this /is/ a library after all. When Mesa enters the area, he spots the group of Decepticons but makes no effort to communicate with them, as there is some sore feelings with one in particular, and Mesa isn't really up for confrontation. He sits down at a nearby terminal to look through a few archives.

The librarian steps on a pedal and a decontamination unit hisses open behind the counter. He drops Catechism's old, acid-worn library card in there, then lets the unit slowly slide shut while he gets her new card together.

Librarian whispers: You may be hot slag in a firefight, but he's the one with the cameras everywhere.

Catechism just smiles and nods, insisting, "... off this planet... elsewhere,... our... order." Catechism is forced to improvise a lie. Yeah, Catechism, Blitzwing, Ramjet, and Reflector are totally taking a family vacation. That's right. She patiently awaits her new card. The sound of music makes her stiffen. Mesa. He's the slagger that told them not to investigate Unicron's head. If she wasn't on the mission that she is, she'd play tall, decapitated, and creepy a visit.

Librarian senses, "Catechism just smiles and nods, insisting, "And I'm taking him and his little camantid drones off this planet and elsewhere, just as soon as we... have our vacation plans in order." Catechism is forced to improvise a lie. Yeah, Catechism, Blitzwing, Ramjet, and Reflector are totally taking a family vacation. That's right. She patiently awaits her new card. The sound of music makes her stiffen. Mesa. He's the slagger that told them not to investigate Unicron's head. If she wasn't on the mission that she is, she'd play tall, decapitated, and creepy a visit."

"Well." Reflector picks his head up off the keyboard. He doesn't perk, stiffen, or otherwise shift as he catches Catechism's mention of vacation plans. "If you give me three days, I could probably come up with a better location. But, as it is now, we'll go with Ramjet's suggestion. I can explain why in painful detail later, if you like, but some of you people have issues with spending the first three days of leave researching." You are clearly degenerates, his tone says. The component wipes his search history from the computer with his handy-dandy command-line prompt. "So. I am going to check out a few things of personal interest. Then we can find enersmoothies and hookers. Or whatever it is jets go for."

The librarian finishes creating Catechism's new card and hands it to her. "Here. If it gets destroyed, it costs to replace it." And yet it doesn't cost to renew an expired card. Clearly, the solution is obvious here. "Here you go, miss."

He ought to ask what her duty shifts are. Or not, since that's suicidal. She's just a strange patron.

Blitzwing eyes Mesa suspiciously over the top of his magazine.

Asking what Catechism's shifts are in front of Ramjet is probably also suicidal. She nods and replies, "Yeah, I know. That's why I kept my old one!" Her acid-damaged, possibly explosive old one. "Thank you." To Reflector, she just shrugs and reminds, "We don't have that much time." That done, she drifts off closer to Mesa. What is he up to? Does he know?

Ramjet is totally possessive.

"What do you think I was off in the stacks for?" Reflector asks as he reappears with a few datasticks in his hand. He sets them down on the counter, hands his card to the librarian, and patiently waits for his stuff to be checked out.

Mesa clearly is doing something nefarious, ((that's sarcasm folks)), as he is looking up information about sound and how it can be used offensively. He seems really into all this information about sonic emitters and sonic attacks and such. It's apparent that it has no bearing on anything anyone is knowingly planning at the moment. There is a distinct sound of classical music now playing from Mesa. Terran classical music. Specifically Agnus Dei from Shubert's Mass in E Flat.

"Oh, Catechism, as long as you're on Cybertron, your upgrades will be auto-updated to your card, so you'll just need to swipe it in a 'reader. You can get updates auto-sent to your mil-mail account, too," The librarian calls out as he remembers something vital.

"Yeah, cool," Catechism replies vaguely to the librarian's comments. First, she peruses the section on explosives, and once she has selected a likely title, she wanders over behind Mesa. She greets quietly, since this is a library, making conversation, "Sure like sound, don't you?"

Reflector has disconnected.

Mesa's mono-optic moves to the general direction of Catechism, but then it moves back to what he was reading. "Sound? No. Music? Yes." Mesa states flatly. "I assume you still have trust issues with me?" Mesa asks in his familiar bassy voice, still not looking up from his terminal.

Just behind Catechism, Ramjet looms. Mesa might notice he looks different than usual -- his paintjob. "He had one of the Sweeps outfitted with a cortex bomb last cycle," he tells Catechism about Mesa. "The very same one you were beating on. Which, by the way, you looked wonderful doing." Ramjet's optic flickers in a wink.

Catechism shrugs. These days, she trusts no one and actively distrusts quite a few people, such as most of her own team. She inquires, "Y'know, I forgot to ask you why you were so bossy about not checking out Unicron's Head." It had struck her as odd at the time, but when she was actually talking to him, she never got around to it. She turns around to see Ramjet, and she runs a hand down one of her wings, a little embarassed. "A cortex bomb in Geist? That's, uh, nice. And thank you." She looks good when beating on Sweeps? That's new and strange. She's not sure what to make of it.

"That ain't nothing, everybody looks better beating a Sweep," comments Blitzwing, uninvited.

Mesa states dryly, "It wasn't my choice to install that." Mesa continues to cycle through various information about sonic attacks. "To answer your question, we have lost lots of assets and troops to this internal civil war. Going there would simply mean a loss of more troops and a loss of more assets. In other words I deterred you to save your lives." Mesa says in an oh so matter of fact kind of way. He still doesn't look up from his terminal though. He isn't trying to make optic contact with Ramjet. Mesa still hasn't fixed his chest plate from when Ramjet shot him.

Catechism drops her texts on explosives to her side, and she protests but quietly, "Yeah? Maybe I didn't want my life saved. You can't protect people by coddling them, and we aren't factory fresh. Sometimes, the best way to protect someone is to let them know exactly what he or she is going to be up against." Meanwhile, Blitzwing proves that he has excellent taste.

If Mesa had eyebrows, one certainly would be raised. "That is probably the single most stu--" Mesa cuts himself off and shakes his head. "If you want to throw your life away to Galvatron's cannon then have fun. I would just assume not see bots throw their lives away for nothing. That's just me though." Mesa frowns as he stares at his terminal monitor. "But this is noted. I will from now on let you walk into fatal situations with no care for your well being." Mesa states that last part in an obviously sarcastic manner. "I will not apologize for what I did."

Ramjet snorts. "Nevermind him. He's out of his frakkin' circuits."

Catechism crosses her arms and frowns. She replies, "Look, if you want to call me stupid, call me stupid. I can take an insult to my face. I'm not asking you to repent, but please don't tell me that you were doing it for the good of anyone. How do you put it? 'You were just following orders'."

Blitzwing has disconnected.

Mesa actually turns off his monitor and stands up to face Catechism. "Actually, there is quite a bit you don't know about me. Yes I followed orders for Galvatron, yes I committed acts of sabotage, but telling folks to not walk into their obvious doom, that was me acting on my own for once. Don't you presume tell me what you think you know about me from a brief interaction in a prison cell. I am loyal to the Empire and I will continue to /be/ loyal to the Empire. EVERYTHING I do has the Empire's best interests in mind. Can you say that about what /you/ do? I follow Megatron because I no longer believe that he is the threat he was made out to be, as evident by the Autobots attacking NCC. He did what any sane leader should of, and he suffered for it unfortunately. I am a soldier and I didn't start questioning orders until recently. That happens when you have two leaders who are the same person." Mesa folds his arms. "You want to hate me fine, get in line. You want to kill me, fine get in line. But I will continue to do what I think is right for the Empire. I mean for the love of slaggin Primus, we are comrades! Our enemy is the Autobots, not each other!"

Ramjet has disconnected.

Catechism's optics turn stormy. Her frown tugs into a scowl, and she protests, frustrated, "I don't think I know *anything* about you, to be honest. I don't want to hate or kill you. I just..." her hands clench into fists, "...want to serve my Empire. That's hard to do when I don't beeping now what's blipping going on. But, YES, I CAN say that about what I do. What I do is always for the Empire."

Mesa smiles at Catechism. "Good. Then we both have the same mind set." He then sits back down in the chair in front of the terminal. "This is costing us dearly. Troop morale is continuing to plummet the longer this goes on. We as soldiers need to do our best to make sure that our Empire isn't crippled by this." Mesa frowns as he thinks about this.

Catechism finally uncrosses her arms and sighs heavily. She suggests, "What we really need to do is get out and smash some Autobots. That's always good for morale. I had wanted to go out and steal some wind turbines to make up for the lost energon, but... things have come up." She smiles wanly. "

Mesa's optic focuses on Catechism for a moment. Taking in her entire form. He seems to be lost in thought for a moment, but then finally responds with, "Indeed." Mesa looks back to his terminal and plugs in a datapad to download the sonic information. "Well one thing is for sure, this will certainly be an interesting turn for the Empire." Mesa finishes downloading and puts the datapad in subspace.

Catechism muses, "They say a soldier's life is long periods of boredom punctuated by short periods of terror. I guess we're stuck in terror for now." She shakes her head. Then, she notes, "I really need to go. Something in her stance says, 'Don't ask me where and don't ask me why.' He's told her plenty of times that there are things he cannot say, and now? There are things that she cannot say, for all that she is just a Seeker, nothing special.

Mesa nods. "Just do me a favor and avoid the Chaos Bringer's head. I would hate to see something bad happened to you." It sounded like Mesa is concerned for Catechism, but why would he be concerned with her? Why indeed.... With that, Mesa turns and leaves. Leaving Catechism to her 'soopa seekrit mishuns' and stuff. Mesa does lift up his hand slightly to wave good bye as he walks out the doorway.

Catechism really, honestly is on a super secret mission, unbelievable as that may be. She isn't sure why he would be concerned with her. She is friendly enough, she supposes. Over her shoulder, Catechism advises, "Mesa, there is something you should know of me. If the Empire needs me at Unicron's Head, I will be there. It is quite that simple." Danger matters not to her. She checks out her texts on explosives, and she is off.

<Decepticon> Avalanche says, "This is to be very interesting, there are Autobots actually heading towards Magnaron..."

<Decepticon> Collateral says, "-oooh, do we get to shoot them?"

<Decepticon> Avalanche says, "Annihilate them."

<Decepticon> Counterpunch says, "Magnaron? Why the slag do they keep bothering with that place?"

<Decepticon> Collateral chuckles. "Would you like your Autobots Smithereened or Atomized?"

<Decepticon> Avalanche says, "Whatever your lasercore dictates, Collateral."

<Decepticon> Collateral says, "...I'm not sure I can turn them into crunchcubes, but I guess it's worth a shot..."