The Decepticons Strike Back!

Trypticon Laboratory

Lab equipment fills the room. Equipment hangs from the ceiling, sits on the benches and all over various tables, lines the walls, and on the table in the middle of the room. A series of terminals connect to the main computer in Trypticon. It's a maze to get through the room without knocking over any of the beakers, containers, burners, and such. Also the lab is equipped with the latest of equipment to use and study whatever comes through the door. Assorted projects lie scattered about amongst tools and other miscellaneous objects that the normal Decepticon cannot identify.

At the far end of the laboratory, sitting at one of the many workstations is none other than Buzzkill. Beside her is a medical berth, much like the ones seen in the medical ward except for the heavy duty straps built onto it, no doubt for keeping an unlucky 'patient' held in place. Currently, she's tinkering about with a variety of different devices, all of them of the explodey nature. Every now and then she looks up to examine the holographic image projected before her: an in-depth diagram of Triggerhappy's legs. "Hmm..this might be a little more difficult than I originally thought.."

Fortunately for Buzzkill, those straps won't be necessary in this case. At least it isn't likely.

Triggerhappy is sitting sideways on the berth near Buzzkill, watching the holograms as well, even though most of the diagrams don't make a whole lot of sense to him.

"And why's that?" he asks.

"Well, there's not a whole lot of room to work with," Buzzkill says, tapping a few keys on the console and zooming in further on the image. "Our best bet are the legs and even then it can get pretty dicey. Just moving around or transforming could damage the explosive and cause it to not work as intended." She bites down on her lower lip and taps her chin. "But I think I can make it work."

The Insecticon spins around on her stool and rolls it over to the berth, staring at Triggerhappy with a serious look. "I'm only going to run this by you once so try to pay attention. Your entire left leg is going to be rigged up with explosives and armed with a remote detonator. Unfortunately, there's no way I can make it so the limb is detachable without it being noticeable." She might be lying about that part but it's probably better not to press her on it. "We dont want to give the humans any reason to expect foul play so when the time comes to set it off, you're going to have to manually remove it. I suggest either using a laser cutter or an exceptionally sharp knife for that part."

Triggerhappy nods. "Good. You better." He listens closely when Buzzkill explains how things are going to work. Yes, he is capable of doing that when he really wants to. And this time he really does want to. He doesn't seem to mind having to manually remove his own leg, though. She's right about not wanting the humans to suspect any foul play.

"Sure, sure. Blowpipe can handle that if I'm...incapacitated. Or Laserbeak if he ends up tagging along. How big of a blast is it gonna be?"

Buzzkill had already laid out her tools on a rolling tray prior to their meeting and after she finishes explaining the plan, she pulls it up beside her and grabs a heavy duty saw with a jagged, nasty looking diamond blade. "Big enough that the EDC will think twice about taking another Decepticon prisoner. If my calculations are correct-" And why wouldn't they be? Buzzkill is a perfectionist, after all. "-the blast will take out a good portion of the base, and more importantly, their numbers. I'm expecting a high amount of human casualties, either by the explosion itself or by any number of hazards the explosion will bring. Structural collapse, fatal infections from shrapnel, what ever the case may be."

"The procedure begins now. Hold still or else I'm going to have to strap you down," Buzzkill says sharply before turning the saw on and pressing it against Triggerhappy's leg, slicing right through his armor all the way down to his foot. Once the incision is made, she deactivates the saw and puts it aside, now picking up what is essentially a crowbar and prying his leg open.

A typical Decepticon might have been disturbed by the nasty-looking blade, but Triggerhappy? Not really. In fact, is there really -anything- that disturbs him at all? Perhaps we shall never know. He simply grins at Buzzkill's expectations for the bomb, especially at the fatal infections part. Yeah, that sounded like the slowest and most miserable death out of the other causes mentioned. He barely even flinches when the saw pierces his armor and she pries it open with a crowbar.

"Perfect."

Is he watching her cut him open with delight? Speaking of watching, Blowpipe is watching the procedure with disgust from a table nearby.

"He'll still be able to transform, right?" The Nebulan asks. That was kinda critical to his partner surviving, and his partner survival was kinda critical to -him- surviving. -Kinda-.

Buzzkill sets the crowbar back in it's spot on the tool tray before reaching over and grabbing one of the devices she was previously working on from the desk. It may look small but it's just one of many that will be placed inside Triggerhappy's leg and once they're all wired together they will rival any big fancy bomb. She slips it inside the limb and secures it place with a few cleverly placed bolts.

So far, Triggerhappy is one of the best patients she's ever worked on. He doesn't move around or put up a fuss or even flinches at all to the pain she's no doubt inflicting on him, though the way he's watching her does unsettle her just a bit.

"Of course he can still transform," Buzzkill says to Blowpipe without even looking at him. "Believe it or not, I want both of you to make it out of there alive. Obviously Triggerhappy's missing leg will make it difficult to get around so I have set-up a rendevous point where you will meet me. I'll have a temporary replacement waiting for you so you can make it back to base without a problem." She retrieves another device off the desk and inserts it into his leg just slightly above the other one, also securing it in place with a few bolts. She continues doing this until all twelve devices are put in their rightful places inside the leg.

Blowpipe nods, appearing satisfied with Buzzkill's response. Triggerhappy looks a bit surprised at her claim to be concerned with he and Blowpipe's survival, though.

"Really, didn't quite seem like it the other cycle in the repair bay. You know, what with you talking about wanting to put the bomb in my head and everything." he comments, alluding to the day the two of them had been conversing with Shockwave after Cross' attack on Polyhex. "Change of spark?"

Buzzkill reaches into the toolbox by her feet and retrieves a wire dispenser. There are several spools of different sized wires on it, each one a different colour. She unravels the required amount of each one and cuts it, placing the strands on the tool tray before putting the dispenser away.

"Maybe," she says with at Triggerhappy's comment. "Anyone willing to let me put explosives inside of them is someone I want to keep around. I have a feeling you will be extremely useful to me in the future and I'd rather not have you killed just yet."

The Insecticon grabs hold of a pair of wire strippers and strips the ends of all the wires before reaching inside the Targetmaster's leg and begining the process of hooking all of the little bombs together. It's tedious work but Buzzkill lives for that sort of thing and it goes rather quickly, all things considered.

The Targetmaster smirks at that. "Heh. Fair enough." She's right, there aren't too many other mechs around who would be this cooperative when it came to having explosives implanted into their bodies.

In all honesty though, he doesn't give a slag what happens to him (he doesn't have 90 courage for nothing!). He just likes shooting. A lot. And killing things and people, and watching them die. Slag, maybe he'll even enjoy watching his own leg getting cut off, who knows.

He watches her work, and nods in approval. "You're good." he says simply. "No wonder Shockwave always wants you repairing him."

There's really not much left to do at this point in the procedure, Buzzkill uses a welder to close the leg-sized incision and then a high powered sander to carefully smooth it all out. There can't be any signs that she altered his leg in anyway or else the entire plan will be ruined. "Of course I'm good," Buzzkill says in a rather snippy tone. "I learned everything I know from Shockwave himself."

A few more minutes of sanding and the procedure is finished. All that's left is for the leg to be repainted but that will be done by one of those gumbies in the medbay whose only purpose in life is to paint things. "It is done."

Yeah, that made sense. It certainly sounded like the logician to leave it up to his protege when he really wanted things done -his- way, like when it came to repairing his own chassis.

Triggerhappy examines Buzzkill's work himself for a moment, then nods, satisfied.

"Little more paint and the humans won't have a clue until it's too late." he says, grinning in a sinister fashion. All he had to do now was wait for the gumby whose sole purpose in life is painting. Or maybe it's more like a drone.

"That's the plan. Before the humans were just an annoyance but now, with Cross at the helm, they've become a threat and like all threats they must be eliminated by any means necessary." Buzzkill does a final examination of her work, looking close for any visible imperfections, before pushing away from the berth and standing. "I still have work to do here. Head into the medbay, there will be a black and purple robot waiting for you. He's going to paint up your leg and make it look untouched."

She turns her back on him and begins gathering up her tools. "Triggerhappy.." she starts, just barely looking at him over her shoulder. "Your cooperation was much appreciated."

"Yeah. Overconfident glitcheads, the lot of them are. They think those 'cybercidic' weapons came out of their own heads when they actually stole the tech from that facility on Mars." The Targetmaster remarks.

Triggerhappy nods then and pushes off of the berth. "Not a problem, Buzzkill. Thanks for making it work." He turns, heading for the medical bay but glances over his shoulder with a smirk before leaving the room. "I promise you won't be disappointed."

NEXT SOLAR CYCLE…

Yosemite National Park, California. It was a beautiful day in eastern California. Just the perfect kind of weather. Partial cloud cover and breezy but not cold, and not too hot, either. So it was no wonder so many people had chosen this fine day to venture out to one of the most beautiful places in the country and take some time to enjoy nature. A gathering of park-goers were standing on a ledge that looked out over the famous Half-Dome, admiring the view while climbers and rappellers scaled up and down the large white and grey rock.

Suddenly, something comes hurtling out of a cloud toward Half-Dome, trailing smoke and fire. It crashes down into the trees surrounding the giant rock, skidding along the ground for a few hundred yards while flattening the trees and anything in its path as if they were a bunch of matchsticks before it came to a halt at the center of the small crater it had created.

Needless to say, the humans noticed. Yes, even the ones who had been busy rapelling. After all, they were here to enjoy the scenery, and that -thing- had just ruined it. Some of them simply shrugged and returned to whatever they were doing, while others found themselves unable to resist their natural curiosity and went down into the forest to investigate. Thus, a small crowd had gathered around the crash site, its members tentatively speculating among themselves as to what it was and what they should do about it. A man is crouched over the wing of what appears to be some sort of aircraft as he examines it. He had been one of the rappellers. A bunch of people are asking him questions, and he is attempting to answer them as best as he can.

"Is it the military?"

"Don't think so, I don't see our colors any--" Abruptly the man's eyes widen as he finds the infamous purple symbol plastered onto the craft's wings. "Holy hell! It's a Decepticon!" he exclaims. There is a small gasp from the crowd at this, and several people take a few steps back in case the hostile alien woke up. Everyone is talking all at once now.

"Dammit, get away from that thing!"

"What should we do?!"

"Is it dead?"

"My -god-...I don't think I've ever seen one this close..."

"Let's call the police, they'll know what to do."

Eventually, the humans come to a consensus that this is the wisest thing to do. And so, they call the local police, who then promptly call the EDC, being well aware that they're the ones who would know best when it came to dealing with aliens.

Ravage was not that far away when he saw an EDC vehicle pass by him as he was doing his usual stakeout. Feeling curious, and possibly finding something of interest, he followed the car. As he was hidden, he knew the humans couldn't see him, and that is just how he wants it.

Pausing in an area where a group of humans were pointing and gasping, he knew it was a Cybertronian. It was further confirmed that it was one of theirs, as the witless organics kept babbling on about a purple insignia. It amused him to see how they react to a symbol, as if it would try and strike when they are not looking. He thought about interfering, but then thought better of it when members of the EDC started to approach.

Subtle. A flaming meteor of...mediocrity smashes into Yosemite, sending people into a panic. Had he not been specifically ordered to be a part of this assignment, Laserbeak would've simply recorded his misfortune and gone on his way. The vulturebot uses his short range radio to alert his counterpart, Ravage to the found location of the crash site. Undoubtably Ravage already knew such things, but it was the cassetticon way to one-up each other in any way possible, and Ravage did not know about the "plan" quotation marks intended. The Beak perches in a left standing tree, a nice distance away.

He zooms in on one of the...plebian humans in the area, using her cell phone like a good drone. Of course, Laserbeak didn't have access to the radio waves yet.... His audio senses pick up, displaying a vocal line in his optics. "...and something just crashed here. I think it's a decepticon......please hurry!" His yellow eyes narrow, soon the EDC will investigate, and barring a brutal disintegration right here and now (which would be proper) it will be most enjoyable....well the execution would be enjoyable too...

The response from the EDC takes half an hour, but is amazingly fast all things considered. A Skyr--EDC dropship arrives at the scene, dropping off hordes of men and light vehicles, which immediately set themselves to surrounding the craft. After a while, remote, wheeled drones are deployed, and these advance upon it, analyzing his vital signs briefly before they begin to spray a special kind of foam onto him. The foam hardens after about a minute, hard as steel, encasing him inside. Anchors are secured into the block of foam, readying it for transport.

The campers are soon accosted by some men in black uniforms, led by a g-man. "I'm going to need you to come with us."

"What?" a camper says. "Why?"

"We'll need you to... give a statement," the man says. "Matter of national security."

Hubcap, while not being one of the more widely-regarded Comms techs, is quite capable of picking up Decepticon signals (required warning), and therefore he follows the transmissions to the crash site.

There was a nice, juicy bit of detail there. Laserbeak zooms in on the federals, taking the campers about with them under the guise of questioning. He makes a note to take proper analysis of the civilians, facial characteristics, vocal patterns. If these people went missing after this event, it would cause a little bit of a commotion. He already made plans to upload the video to his Youtube alias, 'LoomsAbove', a radical anti-government conspiracist. The name coming from the idea that the 'truth' looms above us all...but of course, it had a second meaning as well.

The foam was mildly interesting, it was only useful for containment it seemed, but still, that could be weaponized further if given the right motivation.

Private Generic McGenericson deploys on what is surely another normal mission picking up a downed weather balloon or investigating some swamp gas. He whispers to the soldier he is next to, "So, think this one'll actually be a Decepticon or just another weather balloon? Jensen's betting on swamp gas, but I won't put money on it."

And while all that is going on, after escorting the dropship here, the Firehawk remains hovering overhead to keep an eye on things, and if anyone comes looking for their wayward Decepticon. But nothing is really happening on that front Talia mostly has time to just muse to herself while the work goes on. Not entirely certain how she feels about some of Cross's intentions... but orders are orders.

And there the foam is ready, a call over the comms snapping her from her thoughts.  Nimbly she moves her craft into position to deploy a few tethers and help haul whatever it is back to base.

Another human emerges from the EDC dropship. Like the others, she's clad in black. Unlike the others, she's wearing a blue and white baseball cap. "I assure you," she says, "Everything is going to be fine. You have my word on the matter." Agent Blue Jays glances up as the Firehawk as it hovers above them. Her eyes, hidden behind sunglasses, are constantly scanning. She senses trouble. "Full alert, Corporal McKinley," she whispers into a throat-implanted radio. She the steps past Private McGenericson. "Weather balloon," she confirms without looking at any of them or the crash site itself.

Among the slew of EDC personnel that disembark from the dropship is an exo-suitless Blowpipe, who has managed to sneak aboard and quietly take out an Oliver Thayer, one of the lower ranking soldiers before stealing his uniform. Hopefully no one here intimately familar with Private Thayer. Blowpipe had made an educated guess that the guy was fairly new, given his rank.

He joins the others in helping haul his binary-bond partner into the dropship, doing his best to keep a low profile and not look anyone in the eye...

With all the anchors in place, EDC personnel grab tethers from the various craft that will be lifting the fallen Decepticon away, including Talia's of course. Once they're all done, they give the thumb's up to the overhead craft to lift the captured Decepticon up and away.

One of the campers looks about nervously at the black-suited men, and turns, about to run... but stops immediately when he sees that his escape route's already been cut off by more black-suited troops. The camper grits his teeth for a moment, then wheels on Agent Blue Jays. "Just... who the hell are you people!?" he demands.

Talia McKinley is really glad she's not the one that has to deal with explaining to the campers. Ugh. She dealt with enough irrate tourists that where in the wrong place at the wrong time in the Coast Guard.  And away they go.

'Private Thayer' climbs aboard one of the EDC craft and searches for a secluded spot to sit down in. Unfortunately, there are no seats in there that aren't surrounded by other soldiers. Cursing quietly to himself in Nebulan, he ends up sitting down next to Gene McGenericson. He keeps his eyes on the floor...

Private Generic McGenericson, of course, decides to chatter to the guy who just sat down next to him, "This is too easy. Don't you think? After the Long Night, I was expecting, I don't know... things to be different? Like, just bomb the whole area if we get wind of a 'con, psheeeeew!" He makes a hand gesture of a bomber swooping in. "But I guess we'd just end up blowing up a lot of weather balloons if we did that."

Airlifting Triggerhappy, the bird ponders. If the humans weren't totally idiots (fat chance), that means that he was being taken in a direction away from any more prying eyes. Laserbeak scowled to himself, he had hoped for a land transport. It was sooo much easier to infiltrate a slow moving hauler, than to tail high speed jets. Fortunately, the situation was slightly clumsy and there was little chance of him being outpaced too much.

As the aircraft start to take off, he follows them, low to the ground, nimble enough to avoid their radar. After a nice distance away, he approaches Triggerhappy, then transforms himself into a very nefarious cassette, landing in one of his deeper dents. It wasn't Soundwave, but it'll do.

Hubcap is either unable or unwilling to get close. But he can hear that everything's gone just peachy. "Nice work, people!" He transmits on a broadband frequency,

Blowpipe finds Private McGenericson quite irritating, and he curses the EDC humans inwardly. Idiots, the lot of them.

'Thayer' shrugs in response to Gene. "Yeah, well...I dunno. Dun think the public would like it much if Yosemite got blown up." He mutters, making his voice as indistinguisable as possible beneath the low hum of the craft's engines.

The woman's smile grows as the camper turns towards him. "Of course, I'll be happy to answer any and all questions." She glances past the camper towards the other men in black, giving them a quick nod. The troops begin escorting the campers away, and Agent Blue Jays steps aside with the camper. Turning away from the crowd, she says, "You may be aware that the Cybertronian offensive here on Earth has entered a new phase since the Long Night. You may also be aware that humanity can only survive if we're willing to push back against the robots as hard as they've been pushing us for these past fifty years."

Agent Blue Jays casually reaches up and takes off her sunglasses, careful not to get her hair caught in the arms. She folds them up with a soft 'click'. "You may also be aware that the United Nations has been granting authorization to do just that. We take our job very seriously, and so I sincerely apologize for any convenience you may experience. You may be aware that we simply don't have time to answer everyone's questions to their satisfaction." She looks up at the man. The camper blinks, frowns, and falls to the ground. Sliding her glasses back on, the agent glances back at the crowd. "I'm afraid the excitement has gotten to our friend here," she says, smile never fading, "If someone could help him get to one of the ships?"

Private Generic McGenericson argues, "But the public does want one thing: to see Decepticons die! Which is what I want, too. We all do." It is just possible that this guy washed out of demolitions training.

Talia McKinley is too busy keeping her craft steady and the airlift in general coordinated to notice tiny little black birds turning into tiny little black boxes

And so the Decepticon is carted off to Area 51...

EDC HQ - Shuttle Control - 

Of all the EDC HQ satellite bases, Area 51 shows the least amount of change from its previous state. Area 51, smack in the middle of the blazing Nevada heat, contains numerous above ground facilities and three Cybertonium landing strips. From the ground, Earth Defense Command shuttlecraft and other aerospace vehicles can be seen taking off and landing at all hours of the day. From afar, a powerful cloaking field hides their presence and confuses long range sensors into thinking normal military craft are here. Unlike the other satellite bases, Area 51 does not hide its existence; instead it hides what it truly is. Most believe it still under the control of the United States Air Force.

The base's command center leads directly to the underground GroundBridge terminal connecting it to the rest of EDC HQ, and work with them to monitor the state of all EDC vehicles around the globe. Its defenses are the most conventional of them all, with massive anti-air laser turrets, missile batteries, long range radar dishes, and a whole host of tanks and soldiers here to defend the base.

Over half an hour later, the Decepticon sits in a hangar that's been cleared out of all Terran aircraft and converted into something else. The foam block the Decepticon is encased in is sprayed down with noxious chemicals by men in chemsuits, and the foam melts away, revealing the Decepticon's damaged form. Could he escape? Not while he's trapped within the powerful magnetic field created by the powerful electromagnets surrounding him! Once the fumes are sucked out, a team of scientists and General Cross himself enter the hangar soon after, and the General recognizes who it is immediately. "I know this one," he speaks up. "Triggerhappy. Great find. That's one of the ones that has an organic partner that handles some of his functions." He turns to any totally not-sinister agents that may also have entered the hangar with him. "Any sign of his partner? We need him, too."

"You mean the Nebulan?" a scientist says. "But they're not--"

"Yes, they haven't gone through the test the UN set up," Cross says dismissively. "Well. Let's wake him up!"

An electrolaser fires into Triggerhappy, and that should provide a sharp jolt to wake him up.

If the Nebulon was smart he ran off before anyone got there, Talia muses to herself. Out loud she merely offers a "No, sir. Was focused on keepin' gettin' the big lug here straightened out." Otherwise she's merely mingling amonst the security in the background somewhere, sidearm at the ready should it be needed.

Laserbeak mutters to himself, that stupid steel-foam was a bother. If he couldn't maglock himself to the soon-to-be corpse, it would've been worthless to try to hitch a ride. As the Tro-Con Horse (tm), is dumped into a hanger, just a few yards before it is set down properly, a tiny tape clatters to the ground. With all the noise going on, only the keenest of eyes would find him. After all eyes divert away for a precious few seconds, he transforms back into his predatory stance, hiding among the barrels and munitions of the EDC. Looking over one of the EDC stamped crates, he considers carving a D into it, to read DED-C, but that would be petty and barely funny....So he does it absently as he watches the procedure with the chemicals before him. This was all old hat to Laserbeak, he was the one that recovered the data in the first place.

Blowpipe turns his face away from McGenericson, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah...whatever, dude." He mutters in a low voice.

A bit over a half an hour later, and the convoy arrives at Area 51. The Nebulan can't help but smirk to himself at this development. Oh, this'll be good. Granted, he hadn't particularly liked his partner's idea at first, but Buzzkill's words had envigored him. She was good, that was for certain. And imagining this place going up in flames was good consolation.

When the craft lands, he disembarks with the rest of them and hangs around in the background, mingling with the other soldiers before quietly skulking off toward the special hangar that has been set apart from the rest. He doesn't go in, though, just wanders around nearby, stealing a few glances inside through windows or doors every once and a while.

Agent Blue Jays is silent for the ride home, though she stays relatively far away from both Triggerhappy and Blowpipe. If she has any idea of Blowpipe's true identity or Laserbeak's presence, she gives no sign of it. As Triggerhappy is carted past the General, she steps in close to the man. "A random crash," is all she whispers before moving off. The implication is clear: Her suspicions are raised.

Once in the examination room, the woman strays near the doorway, arms at her side as she watches the proceedings from behind her sunglasses. Indoors, gentlemen. Her gaze falls upon Triggerhappy as he's jolted awake. Witnessing these never gets tired for her.

Private Generic McGenericson spends the whole transit time talking about how General Cross needs to be killing the Decepticons even harder than General Cross currently is. Apparently, he takes Blowpipe's silence to mean 'tell me more'. So after the scene cut, he is concluding, "...I'm just saying, we /could/ bring back public executions. Round up all of them bad boys and hang 'em out in the street. For all the people to see."

And...Triggerhappy is rather painfully jolted awake by an electrolaser. Upon getting his bearings, he finds himself bound by electromagetism in a hangar surrounded by EDC personnel and even General Cross himself. Oooh, what a treat! He had been to see the bossman of the waterbags himself. Still, he didn't want the humans to suspect any foul play here and if any of them were remotely smart which he had to assume some of them were, they had to be already at least -slightly- suspicious. So he played the part, and his frame jerks violently upon being brought back online. The Targetmaster stares down at the humans, and his optics come to rest upon the General. He feigns surprise, attempting to sound dazed and disoriented.

"G-general? H-how did you--?"

Franklin Cross frowns at Talia. "I don't like it. They never separate from their partners, they NEED them. Blue Jays, put the base on full alert, just in case." Then he turns back to the groggy Triggerhappy. "How? I didn't lift a finger to do this. Your own dumb ass got shot down, Decepticon, probably by an Autobot, and we were just happy to be able to take advantage of the situation. Now. We're going to conduct an interrogation. I might have been tempted to ask you to cooperate willingly, but I've done this often enough to know that you Decepticons ALWAYS give me trouble, so... we're just going to skip to the part where we find out what you know via brute force."

Two mechanical arms reach out from the apparatus of devices surrounding Triggerhappy, approaching the spot where his processor is believed to be located, and electricity flares up between the semispherical devices mounted on the arms towards Triggerhappy. It doesn't feel good. "Like that? It's a new technique I devised. Instead of asking you questions, I'm just going to zap your damn brain and see what pops up on this screen..." He pats a monitor which is currently displaying a rather jumbled image. "...in response to certain keywords. Think of yourself as a test run. So, let's start." A computerized voice repeats, over and over again, "Polyhex."

Laserbeak considers the baseball-hatted agent. Shockwave's report on Cybertron had a hatted agent get into the core of the planet. He uses his optics and sensors to see what he can pick up...subtley of course, about the person. If she had a bomb in her head, it'd be most amusing to set it off....Maybe if he adjusted his radio frequencies just...so....

And she gets out of view of the shot. His task here is Triggerhappy, not randomly detonating agents. The Beak files away a note to himself to see exactly what he'd have to do to get such a dream job.

Private Generic McGenericson spends the whole transit time talking about how General Cross needs to be killing the Decepticons even harder than General Cross currently is. Apparently, he takes Blowpipe's silence to mean 'tell me more'. So after the scene cut, he is concluding, "...I'm just saying, we /could/ bring back public executions. Round up all of them bad boys and hang 'em out in the street. For all the people to see."

Agent Blue Jays is silent for the ride home, though she stays relatively far away from both Triggerhappy and Blowpipe. If she has any idea of Blowpipe's true identity or Laserbeak's presence, she gives no sign of it. As Triggerhappy is carted past the General, she steps in close to the man. "A random crash," is all she whispers before moving off. The implication is clear: Her suspicions are raised.

Once in the examination room, the woman strays near the doorway, arms at her side as she watches the proceedings from behind her sunglasses. Indoors, gentlemen. Her gaze falls upon Triggerhappy as he's jolted awake. Witnessing these never gets tired for her.

The scans of the woman reveal she is almost certainly human, though only a DNA test could prove it one way or another. Laserbeak might recall that the luckless previous MIB on Cybertron, Agent Orioles, was also confirmed as human. If she has a bomb in her head, it doesn't show up in the readings. Her suit, sunglasses, and even baseball hat is loaded with circuitry, however, suggesting that despite the thin suit she's wearing is more advanced than it looks. The circuitry even runs throughout her body, making it clear there's minor cybernetics work at play here as well.

Agent Blue Jays taps the brim of her hat at Cross's orders, whispering something inaudible. Her throat-implant carries her words across the EDC broadband, however, and the Headquarters is brought to full alert. This includes the other satellite bases, and all traffic using the GroundBridge will be heavily monitored.

"Like a tick onna dog." Talia murmurs, adjusting her hat a bit. Interrogation? Looks almost like it would be torture moreso. But she's just a soldier so she doesn't really have a say in that sort of thing, as much as she may or may not be interested in some of Cross's methods.

She does get a bit of a snicker at the staticy screen though. "Jus' like a TV. Too many channels and nuttin' good on."

Private Generic McGenericson gets Agent Blue Jays's message to be on full alert for a Nebulan in the base. he wponders aloud to Blowpipe, "Hey, think the Nebulan's a greenie or a blueie? That would make this real easy..." He may or may not be uncomfortable about what General Cross is up to with Triggerhappy, but he doesn't much concern himself with it. Finding the Nebulan is higher priority!

Laserbeak frowns internally. This could be compromising. If Triggerhappy gets siphoned from his head the reason he crashed, Laserbeak could be in jeopardy! He flutters his wings softly, if only all Decepticons had the unwavering will to get almost all pertinent information wiped before each mission as he did. What was left in the Beak's head was generally false clues and ambushes. He was only dimly aware of that fact. Anyway, the footage is spooling up just fine, this is exactly the sort of thing he wanted to see. And aside from the mere enjoyment of the....disdainfully chipper mech who volunteered him for this mission get his just desserts, it also meant the bigger picture was coming into play. No mere Youtube display would fully show exactly what happened here, the agony, the injustice...there'd have to be another venue.

Blowpipe is watching the 'interrogation' unfold from outside, his eyes wide.

"Holy slag..." he mutters to himself, doing his best to ignore McGenericson and not let the human drive him insane.

He really hopes that tech won't work like it's supposed to. But, in case it does...he would certainly like to get his hands on it. He isn't certain whether he should try to go in, though. Well, maybe...maybe he can just hang around in the back. Maybe no one will notice him.

'Private Thayer' turns to McGenericson. "I'm gonna go get a closer look." He tells him, then ventures in through the open door to the hangar. The Nebulan hangs around in the back, behind some crates of equipment and watches, hoping not to draw any attention to himself.

Meanwhile, Triggerhappy's face hardens when Cross mentions an interrogation. "I don't care what you do to me, fleshy! I'm not telling you any--"

But then there were those mechanical arms moving towards his head, and the screens.

...And...the...voltage suddenly coursing through his processor's circuits. It was painful, all right, but not the worst he'd had. But he remembered what he was here for. No doubt Laserbeak was nearby, watching. Smile for the camera, right? Oh, yes.

So, he resists the urge to simply smirk at Cross, instead attempts to look frightened as blurry images of Polyhex before the EDC assault begin to appear on the screens. "...the frag was th-that?" He glances at the screens then back down at Cross. "Look, I'll tell you everything you want to know, I swear to Primus! Just...don't do that...-thing- again..."

Talia McKinley huhs softly to herself. It's actually working, sort of.

Private Generic McGenericson pauses a moment and frowns at 'Thayer' when Blowpipe slips and says 'holy slag'. He may not be the sharpest crayon in the box, but he mouths quietly, "Holy slag?" That's one of those robot swears, it dawns on McGenerison. Wonder of wonders, McGenericson actually stops talking for a moment, instead simply following Thayer.

Franklin Cross grumbles, staring at the screen. "Ennh, nothing pertinent so far. Well, Ms. McKinley, when there is nothing on TV, you change the channel. McPatterson, what's the next keyword?" McPatterson, one of the scientists, glances at a console. "Err... Galvatron, I think?" Cross laughs aloud at that. "What would we learn from looking into Galvatron? He doesn't even run his own faction. Did you see the way he strutted out of Polyhex like a peacock? It was like he was showing up to a boxing event, not a battle."

Cross thinks for a moment. "No, Shockwave's the one we should worry about. He seems quite aware of the threat we represent. Load up the Shockwave keyword." And at that command, the computer repeats in its monotone voice, "Shockwave. Shockwave. Shockwave." While this is going on, Cross thinks some, and points at McPatterson. "Quadruple the amperage. We might not be putting in enough power to get a clear picture." And that happens too. Now this hurts like hell.

Franklin Cross, it may be noticed, is completely deaf to Triggerhappy's suffering and his pleas.

Despite herself, Agent Blue Jays's attention is diverted to the screen, enthralled with watching the product of Triggerhappy's suffering. Her smile remains plastered on her face, but she inhales deeply and stifles a soft chuckle as the Decepticon begs not to be hit again by the brain-zapper. As she exhales, she realizes something is wrong. The Decepticon's suffering, however wondrous to behold, is... off. The woman prides herself on knowing the sensations that a robot such as Triggerhappy would feel in such a situation, and though close, it isn't perfect.

Her smile loses some of its luster. Swiftly, the woman strides forward from her place in the doorway. As she arrives at General Cross's side, she listens to the chatter of the EDC technicians as they examine Triggerhappy's damage. She leans over slightly and whispers something to him.

Agent Blue Jays mutters to Franklin Cross, "The damage... the... may... Worse,... suffering. I... We... area immediately."

Laserbeak again gives a sigh. He *hated* working with amateurs, the idiot was grandstanding. This footage was almost useless. He needed SINCERITY. The bird clucks under his tongue. His enhanced audio picks up some very interesting things, those humans and their vocal enunciations. He considers sending Scattershot a message, 'YOU'RE AN IDIOT'. However...that might risk his cover, since the base was on full alert now. Vulturebot plans his escape route, ready to bolt momentarily. He sends to Triggerhappy as much as he's willing to risk. A tiny, teeny red beam into his eye, invisible to the naked eye and most, but not all scanners. It flickers from red to green. The bird prepares his exit strategy.

'Thayer' notices McGenericson following him, and curses inwardly when he realizes he's slipped up and used a Cybertronian cuss word in front of the human. He isn't -that- worried though. The guy didn't really seem like one of the brightest...Instead, he focuses on the equipment in the area, searching for ways to disable the powerful magnets that are holding his binary-bond parter in place. He would need this information when the time came, and it was best to be prepared.

Blowpipe has also taken note of Agent Blue Jays' suspicion. He'd expected someone to be suspicious though, and he watches her closely...

Meanwhile, Triggerhappy watches as Cross ignores his 'desperate' pleas. So far, so good, he didn't appear suspicious. That woman with the cap, however...she might be a problem. But he leaves that up to Blowpipe to deal with. As for himself--on with the show!

"Quadruple--?! W-wait, I swear, I'll--AGHHHHHHH!"

Actually, this time the pain was a -bit- more excruciating than he'd expected, so the scream was actually somewhat genuine. "P-please, make it stop...mak-k-k-ke it s-s-stop...kkkkk…" His voice is laced with static. Now -that- even Laserbeak might have difficulty discerning whether it was amazingly good playacting or if the Targetmaster was actually regretting having gone through with this plan of his.

The screens flash again, and Shockwave's ominous single optic-ed face appears. And this time audio actually plays, though it is a bit spotty. The logician is speaking.

"...embarrass the EDC...your logic is sound...Buzzkill will...operation..."

Blowpipe is sick to his stomach now, and is really doing everything he can not to vomit right then and there. Was it the torture, or was he feeling the feedback coursing through his partly cybernetic body?

"...ungh..."

He staggers forward a little and puts a hand out to steady himself against a wall.

Franklin Cross turns towards Blue Jays, giving her a fierce glare. "*What?*" he snaps. He points at Talia. "Get your VTOL ready, something might be up." Then he looks at Triggerhappy. Hm. Science, or security? Science, security? Which one will win out? "...no, this is our only example of a Targetmaster specimen." Science wins! Cross scowls at the screen. "Finally... getting something..." He frowns. Shockwave seems to be discussing a plot to embarass the EDC? How?

"Load up a new keyword," Cross tells McPatterson. This time, it's 'Blowpipe.' And just keep repeating it! I knew something was wrong about his partner not being with him! And quadruple the amperage again!"

"Quadruple *again?*" McPatterson stammers.

"DO IT!" Cross screams. And it is done. Who's up for Kentucky Fried Triggerhappy?

 Blowpipe says, "Laserbeak. I'll take out the leg. You take out the magnets....whenever you think you've got enough footage, that is.""

 Laserbeak says, "GREENLIGHT."

Private Generic McGenericson tries to clap a hand on 'Thayer's’ shoulder, and he asks, sounding concerned, "Hey, you okay there? Kinda squeamish, huh? Just think... that machine's probably kill dozens of humans. You remember all those reports about the air show attacks?

Talia McKinley salutes. "Yes sir!" And turns on her heels to hurry out to where the crafts were parked.... and to be honest, a little glad to have a reason to get out of the room.

Laserbeak is always up for a bit of murder! Oh now THIS is beautiful footage, lightning arcs over Triggerhappy, pain, emotion, and cold, calculating Cross. This wasn't even interrogation, it was torture. For a moment, Beaker approved. However now it was time to end things. Those magnets restraining Triggerhappy were an issue. He had plenty of footage now, and some extra analysis for later...when he was alone. The bird analyzed the magnetic restraints. connecting cables, wires...and a conduit box. He narrowed his vision, gently using his namesake welding laser to find just the right spot. A pinprick incision to remove the power supply. Things were about to get messy, when Triggerhappy gets clear, lockdown protocols will be engaged and the Cons need to get moving fast!

The woman hears Franklin Cross, but isn't even looking at him anymore. Instead she's looking at the man who looks like he's about to throw up. It may simply be from watching the Targetmaster's excruciating torture, but no. Agent Blue Jays is well aware of what torture proximity nausea looks and smells like, and this isn't it. Not letting her disapproval of Cross's decision to proceed when the area may be compromised show, the woman takes a strong step towards Blowpipe.

"Stand aside, Private McGenericson," she says in a voice that suggests she's used to having her orders instantly obeyed. She stares at the sickly man. "Oliver Thayer," she murmurs. The HUD on the inside of her sunglasses highlights the man's bodyparts, flashing in several spots to draw her attention to areas of concern. Despite the subtly and grace that Laserbeak disconnects the machines' power supplies, Agent Blue Jays raises her chin, detecting it instantly. "No, not Oliver Thayer," she hisses.

Laserbeak, Triggerhappy, and Blowpipe: You have two seconds to act before she reaches Blowpipe to end him.

'Thayer' is putting a hand over his mouth. He simply nods to McGenericson. Slag, he wasn't going to be able to do what he came here for if Cross kept this up...

The voltage is -quadrupled- once again, and this time Triggerhappy truly is being tortured. Pale-blue amperage arcs across his frame, and his body writhes in agony, his face twisted up with the excruciating pain. He is beyond words now, and energon begins flowing from the crevices in his neck cables. Far beyond...

The screens fade and flicker to life again, and this time Blowpipe appears, and this time the audio is much clearer. "Well it's got to be detachable, somehow...He'll still be able to transform, right..." A different voice, a female one, comes in as well. "Of course he will..."

Meanwhile, Blowpipe is as good as being tortured, too. He groans when the amperage is increased four-fold again, and he stumbles into a table surrounded by EDC technicians. But, he manages to grab a large laser cutter before he find himself on the floor under the table. The techs step away, wondering what was up with the man.

"You okay, dude...?" One of them questions.

But 'Thayer' stands up and dusts himself off, once the third bout of torture has passed, nodding vaguely. "Yeah, yeah...I'm fine..."

But he is only feigning. No...it was too much...any more and he'd blow his cover for sure. But then the Nebulan spots the capped woman advancing toward him. It was too late. He makes a mad dash for Triggerhappy's left leg, activating the laser cutter just as the magnets disengage.

"Sir!" One of the techs shouts, perhaps a bit late, "The magnets--"

But a giant hand comes down on him before he can finish, grabbing him and crushing him to bits.

Triggerhappy grins down at the humans. "Surprise."

Things are about to get very messy, indeed.

Laserbeak swiftly abandons hangar, and his teammates. If they're too stupid to get gone, its their own fault. He contemplates killing Bluejay, but the bomb'd probably do that for him. He darts out of the hangar, out to where the heavy armor was parked. A microburst of thrust, combined with his transformation means a small tape was sent spinning through the air well before the hangar explosion. If he just up and bolted, he'd be caught on radar, and the last thing he wanted was a retalliatory missile up the keister! So instead, he waits....

Franklin Cross watches the screen intently. More of the plot is revealed. Still able to transform? Detachable? What's detachable? There's some sort of commotion, but Cross ignores it. He's too busy watching his screen. Finally, someone yells about the magnets, and Cross's head snaps up. "What!?" And he's just in time to see his techie get smushed. "OUT! EVERYONE GET OUT! Lockdown the base! I repeat, lockdown the base! We have a loose specimen, repeat, loose specimen!" And as he joins the mad dash of humans fleeing from the Transformer, he taps his earpiece and yells, "Sophia! Rendesvous with me, NOW!" And before very long, as Cross runs away from the hangar, his tank drives towards him, unmanned! It helpfully opens its canopy in anticipation of Cross boarding it.

Private Generic McGenericson does indeed get out of the way for Agent Blue Jays. He doesn't even say what's on his mind - the thought that Thayer might be a robot sympathiser.

 Triggerhappy says, "You outta there Laserbeak?"

 Laserbeak says, "!"

Detachable. It's got to be detachable. What would have to be... Agent Blue Jays's smile flickers as the pieces fall into place. She dives for Blowpipe but the Nebulon is a split-second too fast, reaching the controls and grabbing a laser cutter. She takes a step towards him, but stops as he activates it. Triggerhappy's hand comes down and she's forced to dive again, this time to escape being crushed. The technician next to her wasn't so lucky.

Winding up behind the heavy duty monitoring equipment, she holds out her hand. "Gun," she intones, and a trooper instantly hands her a laser rifle. Cross has bailed, but she doesn't. Being an agent doesn't mean running the moment things start getting tough. She lifts the rifle up, using the top of the machine for support as she takes aim at Blowpipe. The Cassette may have escaped, but the Nebulon won't. There's the faint hum as she trains the weapon's targeting systems on the side of the Blowpipe's head before squeezing the trigger, sending a brilliant red bolt of light careening towards him.

Private Generic McGenericson has, by this point, started running, because he is /not/ an Agent. When the brass starts running? Yeah, running is fine and probably a good idea. it may be McGenericson's first good idea all night.

Back on the tarmac, Talia was just getting her craft ready for take-off with the alarms go off and Cross's tank motivates itself into heading back into the base. "Son of a..." The Firehawk takes off, but instead of going down into the base to add farther to the other chaos, starts circling around the base to make sure no other Decepticons show up suddenly to try and get their buddy out and make matters -worse-.

Triggerhappy had taken a few astroseconds to recover from the torture, but fortunately Cross had been so enraptured by the results of his experiment that he'd had more than enough time. He is cackling now, quite enjoying shooting at the fleeing humans. Not with Blowpipe, though, since the Nebulan has climbed up near his partner's hip and is now clinging to his armor, sawing away at the leg with the laser cutter he had taken from the table earlier.

"Hahaahaha!" Triggerhappy laughs as Cross' tank drives up. A good fight, perhaps, before he blew them to microns? Maybe. As Blowpipe cuts away, he activates his biped form's thrusters to hover just above the floor. That was one thing the Decepticons had that the Autobots didn't, and it was coming into handy now. "I knew we'd get to see each other again, General! So nice of you to invite to me -your- place, this time!" With that, he fires upon the tank with the standard-issue weapon he'd kept in his subspace.

Agent Blue Jays' shot -almost- hits the Nebulan in the head, but he moves at the last astrosecond, his shoulder getting nailed instead. He winces but does not drop the laser cutter, a look of determination on

Franklin Cross hears his personnel dying behind him, teeth clenched, but there's little he can do, on foot, except maybe annoy the Decepticon slightly. Alas, just as his tank approaches him, a shot from Triggerhappy sends it careening into the side of a different hangar. As the tank tries to pull itself out, Cross finds that he has to confront the Decepticon on his own, unaided, after all. He turns around slowly. "Yeah, you enjoyed my hospitality, huh? Well, Decepticon, if you thought that was bad, guess what? That wasn't as high as we could go on that thing. Not even close. We could route the power for the whole damn base through that device, cause blackouts in neighboring cities, so on. Hope you're looking forward to that!"

Cross isn't defenseless, after all, as he aims what seems like... it doesn't even look like a real gun, but rather, more like a light gun peripheral for a videogame. "If it's me you want, though, well, you're gonna have a hard time shooting me after THIS!" And he depresses a trigger, causing a blinding laser to sweep across Triggerhappy's face!

Combat: Franklin Cross strikes Triggerhappy with his Dazer Laser attack!

Combat: You took 0 damage.

Combat: That attack has temporarily affected Triggerhappy's Accuracy. (Blinded)

Agent Blue Jays glances over her shoulder, instantly scanning the hangar for vehicles she could use. There's several tanks and jets she knows how to fly, but neither of them are within immediate reach. But if she can pick off Blowpipe before he finishes his work with the laser cutter, this thing gets a whole lot easier. Reloading the laser rifle with a fresh cell, she takes aim, centering the crosshairs on Blowpipe's head. It's not an easy shot, but she suspects another hit to the body isn't going to bring him down. That Binary Bonding process adds more cybernetics than she'll ever see in her lifetime. Agent Blue Jays pulls the trigger just as Franklin Cross does, giving the Targetmaster two problems to worry about.

Triggerhappy brings his arm to his face instinctively as Cross levels the weapon up at him, but he is too late and the bright light flashes in his optics, caushing big spots of interference to appear in his field of vision.

But he seems undeterred. "Who ever said anything about shooting at -you-?" In fact, he is turning his weapon upward, toward the ceiling of the hangar. He feels his leg loosening...Blowpipe is nearly finished, even as the Agent fires at him again. However, it's difficult to hit him, since he is small and clinging to Triggerhappy's moving frame. The shot hits him in the arm though, and causes him to drop the laser cutter. As the instrument clatters to the floor, Triggerhappy's blaster puts a large hole in the ceiling. Roof debris groans and shatters, falling to the floor as well. Blowpipe is shouting, suddenly.

"GO GO GO!!!!"

Aww, and Triggerhappy had been hoping he'd get a chance to smash the puny Cross into the floor. But, hopefully the bomb would take care of that.

"Sorry waterbags, you know I'd love to stay and stuff, but I this particular solar cycle I just can't!" His thrusters power to full, and he begins to fly out of the hole he's just made. The leg isn't completely off, but it's loose enough that the upward momentum tears it free. It falls to the floor as the rest of him flies out of the hangar, transforming once the bomb is no longer attached to his body and activating the detonation timer. It -should- give him enough time to fly out of Buzzkill's predicted blast radius...

Back down in the hangar, the Targetmaster's leg is lying on its side, the explosives within it nearly ready to fulfill their destinies in...

10...9...8...7......

Franklin Cross is baffled for a moment as Triggerhappy passes up the chance to splatter him. Then the leg falls away. Detachable. Go go go. Realization comes to him, his eyes going wide. "Bomb!" he yells. "BOOOOMMMMB!" And he turns, fleeing for his tank, which finally pulled itself free of the other hangar. He throws himself inside the open canopy, which closes shut the moment he's inside. "Drive, Sophia, get us out of here!"

The tank complies, not waiting for Cross to get settled before it hops up and away from the hangar area, eventually landing a few dozen meters away before it speeds off. The tank's AI doesn't seem to need any explainations on this one!

The woman cranes her neck, watching as Triggerhappy reverts into closed S-foil X-Wing mode and blasts off, leaving his leg behind. Stepping out from behind her cover, Agent Blue Jays stares at the leg. The HUD in her sunglasses highlights the fallen limb, telling her just what it is she's dealing with. She makes a split decision, determining that there's no way she could disable it in the few seconds she has left.

Agent Blue Jays instead tosses the laser rifle aside, pointing her free hand towards the fleeing Sophia. From underneath her wrist, her suit shoots out a magnetic grappling hook that clangs against the back of the Jump Tank. The line yanks her in, and it's only thanks to her cybernetic implants that the arm isn't torn off. Hitting the tank hard, the wind is knocked out of her. She winces and grits her teeth from the

Private Generic McGenericson won't be making it out. He just can't run fast enough. He'll be one of those statistics that gets trotted out by both oppononets and supporters of the war alike.

At least Blowpipe won't have to put up with him anymore.

...6...5...4...3...2...1.....

KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMM

And the entire hangar had been turned into a blazing inferno as the explosives go off. Smoke and fire blossom out of the building, easily knocking its walls flat and quickly moving beyond to spread more chaos and destruction throughout the entire base. Structures fall, buildings crumble, and the domino effect takes down some that were not within the blast radius.

Comparable to what the EDC did to Polyhex? Probably. But you know what they say. 'An eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth.' The Decepticons don't mind living by that motto. Triggerhappy and Blowpipe are watching from above and laughing.

"Tch, I can't believe Cross fell for your terrible acting." Blowpipe remarks. Despite his initial disapproval, he is quite satisfied with the results of this endeavor.

Triggerhappy himself, however, appears a bit less enthusiastic than one would have expected. "Yeah, well--" he pauses.

"...it wasn't -all- an act." he says quietly, before turning and flying away. Blowpipe may have felt some of it, but if he thought -that- was bad--he hadn't been the one whose mind had been treated like a toy...

SOMETIME LATER

The hangar part of the base simply smolders now, EDC crews pouring more chemical foam upon it in the distance. Armor and munitions are being moved about, resettling the base for whatever future purpose it may hold now. A few transport trucks whirr and roar up the road as Sophia-II carries along outside of camp, kicking up a small cloud of dust. The general was upset, perhaps not humiliated, but the Cons had done a number on his base, having anticipated his moves. It was a foolish move, having been warned, having been suspect.

Up above, a green Seeker gumby patrols the skies, maintaining an above-cloud presence. Sophia-II's radio crackles to life. "zzzzzkkkt....You try that again when I'm in my tank...." The General pauses, that was his voice on the radio. Again it repeats, "You try that again when I'm in my tank."

Light flickers, red beams send Franklin Cross falling backwards, the sturdy metal supports for his chair smoke, the pieces glowing. As the lights go out in the tank, a hunched over form looks down at Cross. He croaks, an inhuman rasping voice "Never let it be said that I cannot keep an invitation, Cross." Just before things go black, there are only two beady yellow eyes, "We have much to discuss..."



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==================== Decepticon =================================

Message: 2/90                     Posted        Author

Mission Embarrass the EDC Accompli Thu Oct 25   Triggerhappy

--

Blowpipe appears on screen, looking bloodied and battered. His left shoulder and lower arm are torn up pretty bad, and he's still wearing a terribly soiled EDC uniform with the name 'Pvt. Thayer' inscribed upon it.

"As some of you may already know, Triggerhappy and I recently managed to be captured by the EDC and brought to their HQ at Area 51. We were accompanied by Laserbeak, and the plan was to record whatever atrocities Cross subjected Triggerhappy to and make it publicly known, before leaving him with a special gift of a dozen wired explosives.

"Apparently, the EDC has designed some sort of memory-probing device that crudely translates Cybertronian thought processes into images by passing high-voltage currents through the subject's processor and body. As far as I could see, the higher the voltage, the clearer the information gleaned." He is frowning at this. "This could be a problem, especially if they manage to get their hands on one of us again...Hopefully they'll think twice about doing that, though, given the successful outcome of this mission. Speaking of which, fortunately for us, the results of the experiment weren't enough to clue them in on the plan until it was too late." The Nebulan smirks sinisterly at this.

"At any rate, Area 51 has been reduced to rubble, for the most part, and it shouldn't be long before Laserbeak's footage of the SECRET HORRORS OF THE EDC will be ALL over the human's public data networks, and whole planet will know what sorts of things their 'benevolent leader' does behind their backs! Ha! Triggerhappy may be a bit shaken up and missing a leg but overall I'd say 'mission accomplished'!" Yes, he is quite enthused, and he even pumps a fist before ending the transmission. "Blowpipe, out!"

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