Tailgate's Misgivings

AC Command Center

Once you enter this gigantic room, the first thing you notice is the big scanner sitting against the far wall. Looking like Teletran One's bigger cousin, the main computer that is Metroplex sits there checking the perimeter defenses of Autobot City. The gigantic viewer currently shows the exterior shot outside of Autobot City, a pastoral view of a wide plain surrounded by a large conifer forest. Several smaller monitors show different pictures, some of Earth by orbital satellite, others of various computer graphics, giving the viewer the current situation on Earth at a moment's notice.

Next to the main computer is a FTL communications terminal used for talking to Cybertron, Junkion, and other worlds. It is linked to Blaster's main communications tower located upstairs.

Along the other walls are assorted computer terminals that are used by individual Autobots for data processing and accessing information from the main computer core. On the wall to the right of the main computer is a large, recently finished portrait of Optimus Prime with Prowl and Ironhide in the background. A small caption below reads, "Until All Are One".

Blurr has summoned Tailgate to the command center within Autobot City to discuss intel's plans regarding the Decepticon Outbound. He has Repugnus' orders on a datapad that he is holding as he sits at a terminal devoted to monitoring probe surveillance feeds around Metroplex's outer perimeter. The speedster looks rather impatient. Waiting has never been something he's a fan of.

Hey, Tailgate's an older mech who likes to take his time, he's never been one to live life in the fast lane, like Blurr does. He arrives six or seven breems after Blurr has summoned him, his hand servos clasped neatly in front of him as he sidles in the room, peeking in to see if Blurr is there. When he sees the speedster already present, he quickly enters, seeing that Blurr is rather impatient already. "You rang?" he asks, rubbing his helm.

Blurr gives him an annoyed look. "It's been seven breems since I commed you, Tailgate. I seriously doubt that it took you /that/ long to walk or drive here." He shakes his head, however, dismissing the matter. "Whatever. You got the memo from Repugnus, right?"

Tailgate pauses. He did get the memo from Repugnus. But what he'd asked them to do was of questionable morale, at least according to Tailgate. 'Maybe if I play dumb.. maybe Blurr hasn't gotten memo and is waiting to hear it from me! Then I can just suggest something a little more ethical...?' he thinks to himself. But then he sees the datapad in Blurr's servo and sighs, realizing his hopes were too good to be true. "Like..." he says tentatively. "You mean, about /that/ Decepticon," he fiddles nervously. "Right. I mean. I guess I did."

"Yeah, Outbound." Blurr says, nodding. A brow ridge arches at Tailgate's fidgeting, but he continues on. "I sent him a communinque asking him for the coordinates to his base of operations in the Sahara. We'll meet him there to appraise the situation, then ambush him and ideally steal whatever research or resources he might have. If we can't steal it, we'll blow it to microns. Got that?"

"Oh, and since you're the bomb expert, you're going to craft the explosives we'll use for our backup plan."

"I know," he practically cuts Blurr off, wringing his servos. "I got the memo, okay," he says, now it's Tailgate's turn to sound a little impatient. He's not good at being assertive, so it takes some strut for him to say this. "Ideally. Let's make that first choice our one and only. I don't.. I just don't think it makes that much sense to destroy it. I mean, don't you think that seems a little chaotic and unstrategic?"

Blurr sighs. "Tailgate, whatever Outbound is up to, it's up to no good. You know that as well as I do. If we can't take it, we at least can't let /him/ have it. It makes /perfect/ sense. What's your problem, anyway? Orders will be orders."

"No," he says hesitantly, "what I'm saying is that he could be telling the truth. Besides, if Decepticons are liars and backstabbers, and that's what we're doing to him, then what does that make us? As bad as the 'Cons?" Tailgate reasons. "That just doesn't seem right to me."

Air passes over Blurr's rear booster vents with a sound much like a sigh. "Look, Tailgate. Outbound is a Decepticon. Chances are, he's planning on betraying us in some way, shape or form. The best we can do is betray him /first/. I know you like to go for the believing the best about someone until proven otherwise thing, but that just doesn't work with Decepticons. I mean really you should have figured that part out by now.

Besides, what do you expect me to do? Disobey orders? Would that be any more 'right' than obeying?"

"Yeah," Tailgate says, "but if obeying is as bad as disobeying, then really, what's the point?" He clasps his hand servos together frustrated. "And what if he doesn't? This will have been in vain. You can't just assume anything about anyone. Saying all Decepticons will betray you in any circumstance is like saying every Autobot will make the right choice in every situation all the time."

<p class="MsoNormal">"Okay, okay. So what if obeying is just as 'bad' as disobeying? If we disobey we could get into trouble, and you wouldn't want that, now would you? Come on. If we just do as we're ordered, we won't get in trouble with command, /and/ if it really bothers you," Blurr thrusts a datapad containing a summary of the briefing he just gave into Tailgate's hands. "--you can at least partially blame it on Repugnus and whoever else helped him come up with that decision and feel better about yourself. Plus, you don't exactly have a choice. Repugnus outranks the both of us, and /I/ outrank you, so I'm ordering you to respect the chain of command around here and /do/ as you're ordered. Is that clear?"

<p class="MsoNormal">His shoulder servos sag visibly. "Yeah, right.. I get it." He hangs his helm and shuffles his feet, fidgeting bashfully. "But if he's not lying and we disobey, at least we'll know we had done the right thing..." he says softly. "And I think that's what matters," he says a little louder. "Blame shift?! Leaky lubricants and rusty cogs! That would just make me feel like a much worser mech!" He sighs. "F-Fine. I just really hope he's lying. Because otherwise.." he trails off.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Good." Blurr turns back to the console he was monitoring. "And it's not blame shifting, it was /their/ decision, not ours. If he isn't lying--well, all the better, because that way we'll /certainly/ betray him before he backstabs /us/ first and we get played for fools."

<p class="MsoNormal">"Now, if you don't have any more questions or issues, I suggest you get on working on that bomb."

<p class="MsoNormal">Well he has a lot, leaning greatly in the direction of the 'issues' part of Blurr's statement, but Blurr outranks him and apparently he doesn't give slag about his opinion of the whole thing, so it doesn't matter too much. But then he perks up. /I'm the bomb guy, so I can make this bomb anyway I want..' he suddenly realizes. "Sir! May I have permission to carry the detonator?" he asks boldly.

<p class="MsoNormal">Blurr glances back over his shoulder at Tailgate. He shrugs. "Fine. But if you can't bring yourself to set it off, I will personally make sure the explosives are detonated if it becomes necessary."

<p class="MsoNormal">"Of course!" he says quite eagerly all of sudden. "Anything you say.." /Right/, Tailgate thinks to himself, /but not if it is literally and mechanically impossible.../ And with that, the scout scuttles off to complete said task.