Bearer of Bad News

<< ''Director Contrail. It is imperative that I see you -immediately-'', >> Snowblind radios ahead, privately. << You can punish me for my presumptuous demands on your time later. >>

You receive a radio message from Contrail: Do you need me to to come to you, or can you make it to my office?

<< ''If you clear the way to your office I will be there within moments. I dare not speak to anyone else. Yet'', >> is the reply.

She can barely wait for the door to get open. Snowblind halfway forces herself through it. Her right arm is still injured and she looks as if she's been through a small fight.

Composing herself, she salutes crisply. "Director, I have information I can entrust only to you or one of higher rank. I believe I have stumbled across something that can be of use to us."

Contrail is not entirely sure how to take this. It could just be that Snowblind has discovered a tangerine grove. Contrail has no idea if Snowblind has reasonable priorities. It also could be a trap. She returns the salute and gestures to a chair. Contrail also states the obvious, "You're injured. So... what do you have, that you don't want to risk the rank and file finding out about it?"

Spinister stands quietly in a corner, sans Nebulons. He gives no response to Snowblind's dramatic entrance- he merely remains in the shadows, completing the appropriate tableau for a Decepticon Intelligence office.

"Do you recall the Autobot scientist we encountered on THX-11 - Perceptor?" Snowblind begins. She lowers her arm. Her sensors turn and sweep the area.

"I followed Mindwipe's advice."

Snowblind relaxes but not entirely. She knows Spinister is here now. It's not what she wants, but it's what she has come to expect.

She wonders if she should even bother to pass along the warning. It would be just as easy to let the chips fall where they may, but -- No. There is honor, yet. Maybe it will be her undoing, but she can satisfy herself with the knowledge that she held herself accountable to her own standards.

"After retreating from combat with the pink autobot 'Elita One' and Perceptor, I followed their shuttle at a safe distance; when Elita One was onboard another transport and left for reaches I could not follow, I noted that Perceptor continued on in a different direction. Alone. To an orbital facility."

Contrail folds her hands in front of herself on her desk, and she prompts, "So you followed him. What then?" Is Spinister making Snowblind feel uncomfortable? Should she ask Spinister to remove himself from sight? He might not even have to leave to do it...

"Allow me to ask you a question in turn, Director. Honored associate," she says, giving note to Spinister audibly without moving.

"What Autobot separates himself from his fellows, and laces his lair with security systems worthy of even -this- facility?"

Contrail drums her fingers on her desk and admits, "...potentially one who is up to something he doesn't want to admit to rest of his fellows. There are more Autobots like that than you'd expect. They like to project this squeaky clean image, but the fact is, they're a pack of hypocrites. I have some videos to show you on that matter later. After your debrief and after your injuries are tended to."

Spinister remains put. Making mechs uncomfortable is party of the job.

"And call me a doctor, because this is a mech I would *love* to tend to." Singe sauves his way into the office, trailed by Hairsplitter, who passes a datadisc off to Contrail. Singe bows low to Snowblind and smiles up at her. "Beautiful. A simply ravishing mech utterly worthy of the cover fire I laid down to allow her escape from Elita One and Perceptor."

Snowblind steps forward and approaches Contrail's desk. She stops, and a thin line traces across her visor. Singe goes unnoticed for the moment.

Perceptor's voice begins to emanate from Snowblind. The visor line dances in zigzags to match.

<< "Yes, you are correct. However, please hear me out. The research I am doing here is revolutionary. If implemented properly, it would render our kind nearly completely invulnerable. However, many of my...comrades...disagree with the risks involved in applying it. So perhaps, if you were to refrain from exposing this operation, I would be willing to share the technology with you Decepticons. After all, if the Autobots managed to perfect it, this war would suddenly not be a very fair fight at all." >>

"His body was unscratched even after our assault," Snowblind adds in her own voice once more.

Contrail takes the datadisc from Hairsplitter and even whispers a quick, 'Thanks,' to the Nebulan.

Then she sits up straight, her optics wide and bright. "Well. /If/ that is accurate, the implications are rather disturbing. We do have to consider the possibility that it is disinformation, however. Do you know to whom he was speaking?"

"Me," Snowblind says. "And this is the tip of a grotesque and Pit-cursed iceberg."

Spinister regards Snowblind cooly. "And you believe this Autobot would be forthcoming and honest with you because of...honor?"

"And what's wrong with honor?!" Snorts Singe, gesturing up at Snowblind. "Clearly there is enough left in this Decepticon. I've never seen your planet's 'Golden Age' but she seems to be a fine, beautiful example."

Hairsplitter just nods blandly at Contrail. "Message delivered.," he replies boringly.

Contrail stands up and stares down at Snowblind. She repeats, "You. Perceptor offered you a technology to render you completely invulnerable, just so that this Straxus-cursed war can go on forever, a technology that his own comrades find too risky to test."

"Because I do not believe that was Perceptor. Is there a larger screen here that I may interface with?" she asks. "I took scans."

Contrail gestures to a hi-def 3-D holo-screen that Snowblind can use. She smiles slightly. "Evidence. Good."

"I swore that I would not reveal what I had seen," Snowblind notes. "I never swore that I would not reveal what I had heard, or what I had scanned." If she had lips, she'd be giving a wicked little smile. Honorbound, but still very much a Decepticon. She approaches the screen and the back-tendril she'd used to fuel herself snakes down and finds its way, prehensile, to the holoscreen, linking into it.

The first image brought up, through Snowblind's multi-layered field of vision, is horrifying: The half-reassembled, mutilated, energon-bleeding body of ... Perceptor?! It's hooked into a bizarre device that is keeping it alive.

The next image is ... Perceptor again - but standing /next to himself/. He's perfectly undamaged. << "This...machination is simply a clone, however it has always remained in a vegetative state, as it does not have a lasercore of its own. Hence the support devices," >> healthy Perceptor reassures.

The scan goes deeper. Healthy Perceptor is lying. There is a lasercore signature, functioning, inside of the 'clone'.

Contrail has to admit, "That's... pretty slagged up, Snowblind. What in the name of Straxus is even going on there?" She looks to Spinister and Singe and Hairsplitter. What's their take on all this?

Spinister returns Contrail's glance with no response. Hairsplitter actually isn't paying attention- he's entering numbers into a payroll spreadsheet. Singe leans agains the wall, arms crossed, looking rather annoyed at being ignored. "I don't care if there are 16 Megatrons in that lab, I find it ridiculous we're taking any of this at face value because this drone had a spark to spark with an Autobot."

"Admittedly I followed him for little more than my own vengeance.... I am embarrassed to say it now, but I thought perhaps I might prove myself if I could take him down. IN the process of tracking him, I discovered this... abomination. My own horror caused me to slip enough to be noticed," Snowblind confesses. "So I decided to engage him in conversation. I am hardly a threat, and I have already gained a position of being 'different' in the eyes of the AUtobots. It allows me to collect data I may not otherwise be able to get. But continuing... There is more."

The scan focuses on 'Healthy Perceptor' and narrows in. Closer magnification reveals millions of tiny 'cells' crawling over him. A further sharpening of the image shows nanites, constantly repairing his body, crawling over it.

<< "... I do not understand." >> Snowblind's voice now. << "... Why would you give us this kind of technology? Should it not be to your advantage to keep it and eliminate all Decepticons? Is... is that not what Autobots desire? Our extinction?" >>

Healthy Perceptor. << "Autobots, Decepticons...there is no difference. We are all Cybertronians, a race destined to strive against itself until the end of the universe. By warring against each other we are simply doing as all other species have since the beginning of time: Maintaining that which is necessary in order to ensure our continued survival as a species." >>

Contrail jabs a finger at Singe and points out, "I'm not taking it at face value on say so. I'm looking at the evidence presented. And yes, I'm going to have our analysts check this footage for authenticity. Thing is, no one wants an unending war - and no one wants unkillable Autobots. We might have to just drop Perceptor down a black hole." Contrail sounds pleased by that prospect. "But he's wrong about that." Her optics narrow, and she scowls.

Healthy Perceptor continues. << "We will fight until the end of all things. We will and we -must-. It is our destiny, our purpose. The war is our life energon. We have no choice. Hence, we must do all that is within our power to maintain it." >>

The scan returns to the mutilated Perceptor. There is an energy static coming through in pulses. After a moment, text forms at the bottom of the screen in rhythm with the energy pulses.

<>

Snowblind sends a text back, beaming it to the 'clone': << Message to Autobots Y/N? >>

Another pulse, slightly longer.

<>

Contrail's hands clench into fists. If she was holding anything, it would be broken by now. Contrail asks sharply, "And have you told the Autobots, Snowblind?"

"I came here to you first, Director," Snowblind says. "I would not have given any warning to the Autobots without your approval and guidance, or one of a superior officers'. I asked that... thing, if it is truly Perceptor, to attempt to give clarity to what it was trying to warn about. I wanted to know how truly desperate it was."

Snowblind's voice once more. << "Do you still intend to share this technology with the Decepticons? Or have you decided to go back on your word?" >>

Healthy Perceptor: <<"I will share the technology with your faction as soon as it has been perfected so long as you swear you will not speak of this operation or any of the words we exchanged to anyone. Of course, if you do, I may not be able to produce perfected prototypes to reliquish to you, unfortunately. I suppose I shall have to trust that you are a fem of your word.">>

"Like a pod full of scraplets, sent to our door," Snowblind mutters.

"Good," Contrail says firmly, with an element of quiet seething. She paces now, hands behind her back. "Frag. Locked in an unwinnable war with unkillable enemies? Here's the thing... we tell the Autobots? And they might just keep the technology for themselves and wipe us out. Look, I know you've been out of it, but they really might well. I... look, let me show you some footage that Buzzsaw brought back." She leans over her terminal and keys something up on the holodisplay.

"First off, Quintesson are pieces of slag that have enslaved our people in the past and keep trying to do so. They have what's coming to them. But this Quintesson's a dope and works for the Earth Defense Command, the EDC, a human organization that protects the pathetic planet that is Earth. They're /allies/ of the Autobots. Autobot go on and on about friendship and loyalty, but this? This is what they do to their allies."

Then she cues up Buzzsaw's footage.

Snowblind unplugs from the holographic display. She is quiet for a moment.

"Ideals are the most painful organs to lose."

Contrail lets Snowblind watch Buzzsaw's video. At the end, she points out, "It's not that the Autobots do these things. We do the same. And worse. And I have no shame in admitting that - because it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's that they do these things and then pretend that they don't. If they'd just own up to what they really are - that they're just like us, deep down - we could end this war and rule the universe together. So do you understand why I don't want to rush out and tell the Autobots? Because this technology is an advantage for them. And I can't trust them not to take it for their own and use it to destroy everything I hold dear."

"I don't believe this is what they seek," Snowblind says, folding her injured arms. "I believe this is whelping their own destruction." She turns to look at Contrail. "I know I have done things that push the limits of what my loyalties appear to be. I know that in this organization there is no trust, because we are all looking to survive."

She then kneels to the Director and bows her head. "But I /gave you my word and my pledge/. I gave Lord Galvatron my word and my pledge. /I will not willingly, willfully or knowledgeably betray this army or those in command/!"

Contrail pauses in her pacing. "Well then. For now, we do not tell the Autobots." If the Autobots find out? Contrail knows whom she is going to blame. It's actually a good test, that way. "Instead, we need to keeps tabs on... whatever that thing that is not Perceptor is. Try to capture it. Get our scientists to understand what makes it tick. But you were right in coming to me. Many of the rank and file would take such a bargain without a second thought. We have absolutely no idea what sort of strings are attached here. Could be mind control in there somewhere..." She looks at where the holograms were. "You will brief Lord Shockwave at his earliest convenience, Snowblind. You may report any future findings to me, Spinister, or Shockwave."

Snowblind nods slowly in agreement. "As you command, Director."