Spy Wars!

Newfoundland and Labrador

A small province on Canada's East coast, Newfoundland and Labrador contains two seperate regions: A large island as well as a relatively barren mainland section adjacent to the province of Quebec. The provicne is rich in oil, lumber, mining, and other natural resources, and is near many important shipping and air transport lanes.

If anyone thought that the area around Trypticon would be nice and quiet they are in for a rather rude awakening. There is quite a bit of activity around the giant robotic T-Rex, so much in fact that one might think that there was an actual operation in the works. Gumbies come and go, picking up equipment and transporting it here and there, but mostly packing up bits and pieces of the surrounding settlement. Outbound is among the gumbies at the moment, his left forearm stretched out in front of him where a small datacomputer rests. His right fingers are busy tap-tap-tapping away on the screen as he wanders farther away from the main hustle and bustle around Trypticon with each step.

"Hmmm, so little in the hyumans' databanks about the area... Strange. No matter, it will serve my purpose either way. Now, let us see what the conversion rate is for the so-called black gold..." the mobile infantrymech says to himself as the gumby decepticons to his rear grow smaller and smaller.

Compact minivan  is keeping radio silence at the moment, chatting with Blurr over his audials. "Haven't been up here in years, and last time I was, I didn't really have the chance to see the sights, you know. What were we even fighting over, that time? I think that was before the humans even figured out what to do with the tar sands, so it wasn't that."

He's far away yet, testing how close he can get without provoking a response.

Blurr may not typically prefer stealthiness, but he can be sneaky if he wants to. He isn't part of Intel for nothing. Thus, he is skulking about the perimeter of the massive Decepticon city-former base, searching for anything that might be of interest to the Autobots. So far, it's just a lot of supply transports, but he does what he can to get a glimpse of what might be inside of them. "Sights?" he responds absently to Skids. "What sights, Trypticon? Tch, not much of a sight, if you ask me."

He notices a lone Decepticon wandering away from the rest of the workers. "Hey," The speedster taps Skids on the arm then points in that 'Con's general direction. "That one's wandering away from the transports...maybe we can grill him for information without the patrols noticing."

Skids (who at the moment is a minivan with his faction symbol disguised) has no rank and isn't a spy, but that idea doesn't make a lot of sense to him. But that idea sounds very dubious to him. "Wouldn't he just radio for help? I'm not really in shape for a fight. If we could get closer, though, we might get some information on what they're all up to."

Work. Work. The gumbies and unnamed soldiers tending to whatever it is that is going on around Trypticon are not so blissfully unaware of the presence of the Autobot spies. Nope, they're just doing what they've been told, and most of them are doing so in a rather half-afted manner to boot. It's just another day for the majority, another day of living life at the very bottom of the totem pole in the Decepticon Empire.

Outbound on the other hand seems to be preoccupied with much more pressing business than his comrades a great many meters behind him. This Decepticon is glued to the datacomputer that rests upon his forearm. A grin is slow to form upon Outbound's face as his computer chirps and a stream of data flashes across it faster than most could perceive. "Oh...oh that is perfect. With access to that amount of oil not even the most watchful overseer would notice any missing..." he muses, making his way ever nearer the hidden Bots.

Skids the minivan didn't catch what, exactly, Outbound said, but he sees him approaching and points out the obvious to Blurr, just in case he missed it: "He's coming over. Better go into our cover." He pulls over to the side of the road and turns off his engine.

Blurr follows Skids into cover, but makes a slight noise of exasperation. /Why/ in the name of Primus had Skids been sent on this recon mission with him? He was /hardly/ trained in this sort of thing. "That's why you paralyze the comm microcircuits with polarity reversal..." he mutters. "Ugh, never mind. He probably doesn't know anything important, anyway."

"Now, all that needs to be done is Trypticon's relocation. If all goes according to plan my advice will be heeded, and it will ensure less oversight in the region," Outbound says aloud to himself, his indigo optics flashing with each syllable of speech. "Almost too easy," he murmurs at last. "No battle plan survives contact with the enemy..." His optics flash, as if the mech was taking his own words to core before shaking his head. "Either way, my projects will advance," concludes the Decepticon who finally looks up from his computer just in time to barely notice some distant movement. Freezing in his tracks, Outbound sneers. Was that one of the soldiers? What was he doing way out here? Had he overheard? Too many questions, but only one way to get answers. Outbound starts toward Blurr and Skids.

Compact minivan <Skids> doesn't risk speaking out loud; what he's going to do is his best impression of a temporarily abandoned vehicle, and lure Outbound over.

<p class="MsoNormal">Blurr on the other hand, doesn't have it quite so easy. It would be difficult for him to pass as an abandoned vehicle, unless Outbound were as dense as Blot or someone like that. Thus, he ducks behind some rock formations, plastering his body up against a particularly large one.

<p class="MsoNormal">Hmm...it seemed this Decepticon had some plans of his own that he'd rather the others not know about. It didn't surprise him, though. They were /always/ scheming against their own.

<p class="MsoNormal">Outbound is no fool. If there is someone out here, which he is almost certain that there is then he will find them one way or--ooo lookit a minivan! The mobile infantrymech's optics dim somewhat, his guard relaxing but only for a brief time before he seems to remember...'movement'. The datacomputer within his left forearm collapses in upon itself and then disappears into the subspace compartment from which it came. In the next moment a a laser sidearm has emerged from another compartment and assembled itself before locking into the grip of his right hand. "If I destroy your vehicle...you have no transpor out of here," notes the Con who aims his laser accordingly.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Wait, wait!" A voice suddenly calls out, and what appears to be a human comes out from behind some rocks. Albeit a strange-looking one. He has bright blue hair. "Don't! I mean, what do you have to gain by destroy it, anyway? Not like I have anything that would concern you...Decepticon."

<p class="MsoNormal">Meanwhile, Blurr is still hiding behind the rocks while controlling the hologram, which is being projected from an experimental hard-light emitter fresh out of the labs. Might as well see how the thing worked. Besides, if he could convince this guy that a human knowing of his plans would be of no consequence, he might be able to get him to talk more.

<p class="MsoNormal">Outbound keeps his laser trained on the minivan, his optics dimming slightly as he assesses the situation despite a slightly decreased state of alarm. "Hmmm.. Hyuman," he says aloud, and then lowers the laser somewhat. "You are in the wrong place at the wrong time. I should exterminate you with extreme prejudice... Who knows what you've seen...or heard." The Decepticon doesn't open fire just yet however, perhaps giving the fleshbag an opportunity to bargain for his life.

<p class="MsoNormal">The "human's" eyes widen with fear and he holds his hands in the air. "N-no, I don't know what you're talking about, I didn't hear anything!" he begs. "Look, I'll do anything for you, just don't kill me! I-I'm sure there's something I can do to help you with uh...whatever you're scheming that you're hiding from your comrades." he offers, as Blurr hopes to get further details on the situation.

<p class="MsoNormal">That probably wasn't the wisest thing for the human to say...lucky for him he's just a hologram. Outbound seems to pounce on the newly revealed fact that the human is indeed aware that he is plotting something that the rest of the Decepticons are not quite so aware of. "Stupid insect... Now you have just made yourself even more disposable," he notes, stepping closer. "But...perhaps I might spare you. Perhaps...if you know an Autobots. I have a message for them, a /private/ message."

<p class="MsoNormal">The fake human's eyebrows go up at this. Oh, now this was getting interesting. "Well...I mean I just assumed you were, since you said--never mind. Sure, I know a few Autobots." he says, looking less frightened now. "So. What did you have in mind?"

<p class="MsoNormal">"First things first, hyuman. What Autobots are you acquainted with?" Outbound asks. "Also, what is your name? You answer me now, quickly. I will detect a lie," the Decepticon rattles off rather quickly, his entire upper body leaning forward and down imposingly close to the h

<p class="MsoNormal">Oh, slaggit! A name....he hadn't thought of that. But thankfully Blurr can think fast. Very fast. And the humans' public data networks further facilitate the process. "My name is Christopher Seymour. And I've worked with the Protectobots before."

<p class="MsoNormal">The hologram steps back a little as Outbound gets up in its face. Blurr doesn't want him suspecting that this guy isn't real.

<p class="MsoNormal">

<p class="MsoNormal">Outbound's optics flash briefly as Mr. Seymour takes a few steps back. "Very well, then you will contact your Autobot friends and you will have them meet me here... Now," he demands. Outbound was no fool, and only a fool would allow the human to walk away with a message that he may or may not deliver so long as he's out of harm's way with his life. "You would not be out here without a communications device of some kind... The Autobots are always providing methods for contact for those with whom they have worked. No tricks...or it will be your final blunder."

<p class="MsoNormal">...Slag.

<p class="MsoNormal">This guy was no fool, that's for sure. The holographic human sighs. "Okay, okay! I'll do it, but I can't guarantee that they'll show." he turns away, pretending to look like he is operating a comm device. Really, though, he sends a communinque to Autobot City requesting that someone come and over his aft right now. It'd be much easier to do this without both himself and the holo-human exposed. Hopefully /someone/ will respond soon...

<p class="MsoNormal">"Okay, there, I commed Autobot City with our location. Someone should show."

<p class="MsoNormal">"Good," Outbound states flatly and then takes a couple of steps closer to where the minivan is parked, and then he takes a seat upon a large rock nearby. "Your fate depends upon the haste of their arrival. I have no desire to destroy you, so truly if such an unfortunate turn of events forces my hand it is absolutely nothing...personal." How's that for reassuring?

<p class="MsoNormal">Now it happens that one particular Autobot named Tailgate is not occupied at the moment. There hasn't been much to do at the base all cycle, so it's needless to say that he's been twiddling his servos for most of the day. Blurr's message is immediately received, he is walking past the communications console just at that moment. "Finally!" he cries, clasping his hand servos together. "Something better than maintenance." He transforms, and glancing briefly at the location of where the message is coming from, he sets off and soon arrives, but doesn't approach immediately. It's starting to occur to him that he didn't give much thought to what the situation might entail..."< B-Blurr? Why are you using your holomatter?>" he comms the other Autobot privately.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Mr. Seymour" feigns anxiety. "Yeah, yeah...I get it, okay? They'll come, I'm sure, they're always worried about us getting hurt because of them." It's not personal...Blurr pffs to himself. As if /that/ matters. But anyway, sure enough, someone is on the way. The speedster immediately recognizes Tailgate. He opens a private commlink, << I'll explain later, just go talk to him. Says he's got a private message for the Autobots or whatever. Retrieve the information and any further intel that might be of interest, and make it snappy. The longer we draw this out, the more likely he'll figure what we're up to.>>

<p class="MsoNormal">"<Alright, alright. I can do that, no need to get impatient (as if that's something someone should tell to /Blurr/ of all mechs). How'd this happen anyway?>" But then he realizes that's probably--most definitely a question for later. He approaches Outbound. "Private message for the Autobots, ya say? Well, then! I'll have to do. So you better cooperate--or.. or I'll make you!" he says, sounding a tad more confident then he actually felt.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Which is one of the reasons that I absolutely love the Autobots," Outbound muses, the words seeming strange to all but those with common sense enough to understand their meaning. Finally, after what seems like far too long the Decepticon's wish is granted and onto the scene walks Tailgate. "Ahhh, very good," he says as he rises to stand, his laser weapon collapsing in upon itself before it folds away into a subspace portal within Outbound's right forearm. "Come now, there is no need for threats... Besides, you are hoplessly outnumbered here. If I wished you decimated neither you or your human ally here would survive," the mobile infantrymech explains nonchalantly. "Besides... As you mentioned I have a message for you. Or rather...a proposal."

<p class="MsoNormal">Tailgate  twitches a little. "Eh-heh, I hope you're not all talk, guess you're not lacking in the confidence category..." he trails off. "Right. Well, I'm all audio receptors.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Seymour" looks relieved, though Blurr has a smug look on his face. Right, that's what /he/ thought. Heheh. Well, let him think it. For now, anyway. <<Don't worry, Tailgate...if he attacks you, I'll make sure he regrets it.>> The speedster assures his comrades, who appears less than confident. But for now, the fake human just leans against a rock, waiting for this conversation to pan out however it may.

<p class="MsoNormal">Don't hold back, either," he says, trying to sound intimidating. That doesn't work out so well for him.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Confidence... Oh, confidence has little to do with it. The Autobots have fought the Decepticons successfully for millions of years," Outbound begins, his shoulders shrugging. "Clearly your leaders understand strategy, and the necessity of taking advantage of information as well as potential boons to their efforts when they present themselves," the infantrymech states flatly, his optics flashing with each syllable. "Now to business. I have interests in the Saharan region of the planet Earth. Private interests...interests that will prove beneficial to me, but would mean little to you and your side. I wish simply to offer a non-aggression pact good for myself so long as I do no harm to any of the local inhabitants. In exchange I will offer you some intelligence. Not much, only that which would be an even exchange for simply not accosting me while I engage in what it is that I wish to do in Africa. Naturally the non-aggression pact would be null if ever I come with other Decepticons with force of arms..." How's that for a twist?

<p class="MsoNormal">Did he /really/ expect them to agree to this without telling them what it was he was actually /doing/? Blurr shakes his head. <<Ask him what the slag he plans on doing in Africa. If it needs a non-aggression pact, it's likely to be up to no good.>> he says on the commlink, though the 'human' keeps quiet. It was best to keep attention away from it as much as possible.

<p class="MsoNormal">So he thinks about that one. A non-aggression pact? That doesn't sound characteristic of a Decepticon! But Outbound isn't asking for much, Tailgate reasons with himself. To simply not be attacked, well, that's not a huge favor. He pauses, looking thoughtful. "Well.. I'm obviously not in any sort of executive position to make a decision like this...." he trails off, pensively. "But what exactly do you plan on doing? And what's this Earth religion you're so interested in? You don't really strike me as the religious type!" he exclaims.

<p class="MsoNormal">"It is simple," Outbound begins with a brief gesticulation of his eft hand through the air before out of his forearm subspace compartment pops a datacomputer upon which his right-hand fingers begin to type rapidly. "Within the Sahara there are many minerals and natural resources. They may be tapped for any number of reasons, however my personal projects require very little of what is there. Truly insignificant amounts, however in order to extract these resources I must avoid being attacked...particularly since this operation is entirely solo in nature." The Decepticon's optics continue to flash with his speech, and finally he takes a few steps closer to Tailgate and then extends his forearm after the datacomputer beeps. "Here, view this data... These are the amounts that I will likely require."

<p class="MsoNormal">He looks down at the data on Outbound's forearm. It doesn't make a whole of sense to him. since bombs were his thing and not science. "Er..." He mutters to himself a little. "Well... hate to pry, but what do you plan on using those minerals for? And just what kind 'solo' project is this?" He asks suspiciously. "I take that back! I'm not going to help agree to just anything without prying majorly!" He adds quickly.

<p class="MsoNormal">Tailgate  suddenly finds that he's being paged from Autobot City. Apparently he's needed now, just as he had found something to do while /not/ being needed. "Well, don't be thinking this is the last time we'll see you around. But I'll tell you what. I'll take your proposal to Rodimus and others and see what they think." And with that, he transforms and heads back to Autobot City.

<p class="MsoNormal">Blurr really is trying to keep attention away from the fake human but this time he can't help himself. "Projects? And what kind of personal /projects/ are you doing?" 'Seymour' asks suddenly. "Something your superiors wouldn't approve of?"

<p class="MsoNormal">Outbound lowers his arm and the datacomputer retreats into it, and he simply watches as Tailgate makes tracks in the opposite direction. "Simple research. Tests, expanding my processor...my technical prowess, light construction, etc. Why is it of such concern to you, hyuman? You should be pleased with your status of 'living'."

<p class="MsoNormal">Oops, that wasn't a very good move. "I'm--I mean, it's not. Ahem." the man says, making a sound to imitate clearing one's throat. "I was just...curious. It just seems weird because one would think that if you were just expanding your own technical prowess, then your superior officers or whatever wouldn't have a problem with it. I mean, it couldn't hurt for them to know."

<p class="MsoNormal">"My superiors have a limited amount of resources, and so their use is also limited. Personnel ranked higher than myself are given priority, and there are other similar restrictions," Outbound replies dully. "If I am able to use resources from other areas then I can conduct my own business and forward my own studies unhindered by their own...needs." And why is he talking to this hyuman again now that Tailgate has left? The thought occurs to him, and Outbound begins to turn back toward Trypticon.

<p class="MsoNormal">Hmm. It was feasible, Blurr supposed. But he's satisfied with the information he's procured thus far. He will have to add this to Magnus' list of 'diplomatic' tasks to attend to. The speedster watches the Decepticon leave, before deactivating the hologram and taking off himself, that signature sonic boom following in his wake.

<p class="MsoNormal">Sonic boom? Well, how about that... The entire time Outbound had been speaking to an Autobot. Go figure, they were a tricky sort after all. No wonder they had managed to survive against the Empire for so long. The datacomputer extends from the infantrymech's arm one more time, and a few notes are entered, saved, and encrypted. Beware of the 'Bots, and their tricky holograms...

<p class="MsoNormal"> <pre style="white-space: pre-wrap;">

=
==================== Decepticon ================================= Message: 2/120                    Posted        Author TOP SECRET                        Wed Jan 23    Outbound --
 * Decepticon Spinny*


 * SHOCKWAVE'S OPTICS ONLY TEXT**

While patroling the perimeter around Trypticon I encountered a terran vehicle that the Earth Files have dubbed a 'minivan'. A human was nearby, and after a brief exchange I discovered that this human has had dealings with the Autobots in the past. Clearly the fleshbag was up to something, so I briefly held the human hostage in order to lure an Autobot into an exchange for the propogation of a possible false non-aggression pact for myself alone to aide in the possible exploitation of the Sahara's resources. Like clockwork the Autobot arrived to save his human friend at which time I made my proposal. Believing that we Decepticons commonly turn on our own it was not difficult for the Autobot to swallow my lie. The Autobot that arrived on scene left after a time, the human soon afterward. In his wake I distinctly heard the unmistakble- a sonic boom. Clearly, the human was an Autobot spy, and the minivan likely an Autobot itself.

Should the Autobots take the bait I will be given the opportunity to scout out potential sites for raids within the Saharan region of the African continent unaccosted. Also, it is clear that the Autobots are indeed watching Trypticon closely, so increased efforts to conceal his relocation are heavily advised.


 * Decepticon Spinny*

=
=================================================================

=
==================== Decepticon ================================= Message: 2/121                    Posted        Author Re: TOP SECRET                    Wed Jan 23    Shockwave --

*** TEXT ONLY *** *** LOCKED TO OUTBOUND ***

You have approval to proceed if you wish, however understand that Autobots are not as gullible as you may believe. Should your plan fail, do not expect us to bail you out.

- Shockwave

=
=================================================================

=
===================== Autobot =================================== Message: 3/117                    Posted        Author Non-aggression pact: Outbound     Tue Jan 22    Blurr --       A text-only report from Autobot Intelligence.

A Decepticon identified as the infantrymech Outbound was encountered on a recon mission near Trypticon's perimeter patrols.

The subject has requested a ceasefire exclusive to himself within the desert region known as the Sahara, in exchange for thus far unspecified intel. Subject claims the intel will be of value equal to whatever personal gains he may appropriate as a result of a successful negotiation. Subject has also declared that his activities in the area will be solely devoted to personal projects of little or no consequence to Autobot agendas.

Intel will await a decision from CoC regarding this matter.

=
===================== Autobot =================================== Message: 3/118                    Posted        Author Re: Outbound                      Tue Jan 22    Repugnus --       Repugnus appears, and although he's still clearly laid up in a medbay bed, he's grinning like the cat that caught the canary. "Wow, really? Does this guy think we were born yesterday? But okay. This is what we're going to do. Try to track this guy down in the Sahara. If he has a base, find it. Claim to want to meet with him to discuss terms if you want to make it easy. Give no sign you plan to betray him. Then, gank his aft and blow his research to smithereens. Well, scratch that. Blow it to smithereens IF you can't steal it first."

Repugnus laughs. "Little or no consequence to Autobot agendas. Ha! I'll be the judge of that once I know what he's doing." He eyes the camera with a serious look. "None of you get misty-eyed on me and try to reach out to him, either. They're DECEPTICONS, dummies. They lie for a living. And even if, on the off-chance this is a Decepticon who doesn't know what his own side is and his offer is genuine, I don't care. We are going to backstab him. Hard. That's an order!"

Repugnus looks thoughtful. "Huh. I wonder, though. What if we're just disrupting his collecting of postal stamps? Eh." He shrugs, and the feed ends.

=
=================================================================

=
===================== Autobot =================================== Message: 3/119                    Posted        Author Re: Repugnus                      Wed Jan 23    Rodimus Prime --

As strange as it sounds to say it sometimes, I agree with Repugnus. Or at least I agree with his assessment of the situation. The number of scenarios we've had in the past with Decepticons genuinely trying to broker some kind of peace agreement in pursuit of some other goal can be counted on one hand, and in the last few millenia. And even most of THOSE were some ulterior motive or plan set up by one of their allies. As it was said already, DECEPT-icons. Besides, if this was something genuine, this would be a pretty dumb way to go about it, expecting us to be born yesterday. Address it accordingly and don't trust anything.

=
===================== Autobot =================================== Message: 3/120                    Posted        Author Re: Non-aggression pact: Outbound Wed Jan 23    Blurr --       A text transmission from Blurr in response to Repgunus and Rodimus.

Understood. Tailgate and I will see to it that whatever this Decepticon has planned does not see fruition. If nothing else, we will ensure that he will have, at the very -least-, gained nothing from this endeavor but wasted time and energon.

=
=================================================================