The Weapon

Eastern Provinces - Canada

Covering nearly a million square miles, the vast lands of the provinces of Quebec, Ontario, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Newfoundland, and Prince Edward Island reach as far as the eye can see. Canada is an immense land rich in resources, from the mines of gold, nickel, and iron to the huge hydroelectric installations on the St. Lawrence, Churchill, and Columbia Rivers to the extensive forests, producing nearly half of the world's newsprint. Most of the people live on the southern border, in cities like Toronto and Montreal, but that represents a bare fraction of the extent of this region.

Underneath Muskrat Falls, there lies a secret base, constructed because, as we all know, hydroelectric power is nice and all, but dams are really just an excuse to build sinister secret bases everywhere. It's not like there'd be any chance of flooding, right? Anyway, while it's a nice base and everything it's a tad cramped.

General Franklin Cross is touring the facility, looking a bit dour as he inspects the various rooms, as if looking for faults and problems. "Hm. The water from the river should be able to stop emissions from coming through. Apocryphacius, do you have any ideas on how to stop those emissions if, in fact, that's not enough?"

Then again, maybe Apocryphacius isn't there and he's talking to no one. That would be awkward.

Franklin Cross is not hallucinating a Quintesson in the cramped under-dam base. Apocryphacius is working on some weapons mounts for Copernicus Station, because the place needs /more guns/. It clearly did not have enough last time. He admits honestly, "Sir, until we actually define what the radiation is, we cannot know what will stop it. This much lead, conrete, and water would stop > sci-fi amount of radiation < easily if we were talking alpha and beta emissions, but we at least know these are /not/. Speaking of... I am concerned about the cancer risks and have duly requistioned > appropriate amount of laboratory animals and equipment <, sir."

Jayson Redfield is on guard duty. It's kind of boring, but really, he just does as ordered. Yep.

Franklin Cross scratches his mustache. "Hmmm. You're right. We haven't given this radiation a proper name yet and I fear sometimes that it might get confused with some of our other experimental weapons. So, from here on out, we are going to term it 'Cybercidic Radiation." He turns towards the Quintesson. "Appropriate, don't you think? Anyway, your fears about cancer are justified, though I think we'll all be fine as long as we don't stand in front of the beams. Well, that's enough inspecting. I want to run some tests. I've got a smaller version of the energy projector in the works, something designed to fire in pulses to minimize the risk of overheating."

"As you wish, sir," Apocryphacius says blandly, and he notes the new name 'Cybercidic Radiation' down. He has a whole lot of /other/ concerns he would like to get into, such as: sure, he can kill a bunch of lab rats with Cybercidic Radiation and then make recommendations on how much exposure humans can handle, but... there is a Nebulan in the ranks, and Apocryphacius cannot very well requisition a bunch of Nebulan lab animals!

There are also his /own/ organic components, but for his own part, he is more worried about his mechanical components, and on that front...

"What about the EDC soldiers with mechanical components, sir?" and he looks furtively over at Redfield, who had to have an eye replaced, if he recalls correctly.

But he follows along docilely to do the boring documentation work for the testing.

Jayson Redfield does indeed have a cybernetic eye, and a mechanical arm, too, for the record. Part of his lungs are also mechanical. Yay for cyborgs. Overhearing the Quint, Jayson cocks his head slightly, but remains silent.

Franklin Cross walks through the facility, hands behind his back. "The radiation, unlike the radiation the Decepticons used to provoke the long night, only affects Cybertronian alloys. Why this is so is not well understood--we only understand that it is so. So, cyborgs should be fine, and they won't have to worry about part of their bodies disintegrating or ceasing to function." He approaches one particular room with a retinal scanner, and puts his up to it. A light shines into his eye, testing to see if it dilates (to thwart nefarious eye-pluckers, of course), then a computerized voice says, "Please state name and rank." Cross replies, "General Franklin Cross." The voice replies, "Access granted," and the door opens. He steps through, revealing a very small energy projector mounted on a platform almost like it was going to play a movie for a classroom rather than, say, blowing a hole through the chunk of Decepticon armor that it's facing.

Apocryphacius < Darkness Face > catches Redfield picking up that the conversation is somewhat relevant to him, but trying to engage Redfield in the conversation would be a breach of protocol. This is not the watercooler. He steeples one tentacle under the chin of the face that is currently 'active', a different pair of tentacles ready to take notes and a different pair of tentacles ready to poke at various recording devices. Apocryphacius speculates, "Perhaps the action is mediated by the presence of Cybertonium, a green crystalline element found in the bodies of Transformers created on Cybertron? Those who were constructed off-world seem to lack it, however..." Maybe they need a new weapon for exploding Dinobots?

Jayson Redfield doesn't mind, Apo. Just keep talking, and Jayson will keep listening. He hasn't got anything to contribute, anyway. So he just stands there, still guarding away.

Franklin Cross stops in the doorway, giving Apocryphacius a sharp look. "Are you suggesting that it wouldn't work against the Dinobots? Well... they ARE Autobots. Usually. But it's those moments they're not that has me concerned. Come inside. Mr. Redfield, you too. And hurry up, this door will close automatically in ten seconds." He steps inside. "That's a new wrinkle. I wonder if it would be possible to get a sample of the Dinobots without the Autobots realizing it. Or having to kill them, of course. Maybe get a piece of them that fell off in the battle. After all, some Decepticons might have been built on Earth, too."

Jayson Redfield perks a little. "Yes, sir," he says automatically as he hurries after the general and the Quint.

Apocryphacius < Darkness Face > does not particularly /like/ what he is contemplating, but they do not pay him to like things. His face is impassive and, well, /alien/, not twitching at that sharp look, and he says softly, "I suggested nothing of the kind, sir." He just implied it, which is different. "There have been times when I have been allowed to repair Autobots within Autobots City. If I have the occassion to do so again, I could search their scraps bin without much trouble at all, sir. After all, it would be a nasty shock if it turns out your weapon does not work on Earth-built Decepticons, hmm?"

Of course, what qualifies as 'Earth-built' is somewhat unclear. The Stunticons had their bodies constructed on Earth but were given life by Vector Sigma on Cybertron; the Dinobots were 100% Earth-built. Does that make a difference?

"It cannot be their lasercores that causes the effect, as the effect has been demonstrated upon dead pieces that have been seperated from the rest of the body and thus the lasercore."

The door seals shut behind them. "Hm. Alright, if you can obtain a Dinobot part from their scraps bins without detection, do so. We'll test the weapon on it. And I have to agree that the lasercore isn't the answer, either. Did you know we actually managed to retain the lasercore from that Seeker who tried to steal a prototype in Alaska, only to have it go off in his face? His lasercore seemed to be undamaged. Maybe it could even work again if it was put in a new body. It never will be, of course, so..." He trails off. "Anyway, take notes, I'm going to activate the device." He begins tweaking the energy projector for a moment, then flips a switch on it. Wmmm wmmm wmmm ZZZTTT. It begins sparking and fails to fire! "Gah!" Cross grunts, slamming a hand down on a red emergency power cutoff button on the wall. "I must have done something wrong... blast it..."

Jayson Redfield stares, his left eye flaring slightly. "Would you like me to give that a try, General?" he ventures, keeping his tone somewhat neutral. Of course, he probably wouldn't be able to figure it out either, but he thought he'd offer.

Apocryphacius < Darkness Face > perks up and looks /very/ interested in the mention of there being an undamaged Seeker lasercore in operational shape in custody. His faces spin around, and a spare pair of tentacles that is not taking notes or manipulating recording devices steeples. Optics alight, he says, "Do tell, sir." Millions of years ago, one Quintesson /got it right/ and created true sapient life. Ever since then, they have... well... had a rather spotty track record. Mostly a whole lot of semi-sapient idiots. Apocryphacius cannot deny that figuring out how a /real/ lasercore functions would be... intoxicating.

But then there is failure. Thoughts of playing Primus are shelved. He starts going through the checklist of steps to see what might have gone wrong, but given how General Cross mostly works all out of his own head, there is a large piece of the puzzle Apocryphacius is missing, which limits his ability to diagnose what may have gone wrong. "...first off, I would check for short circuits, given the sparking..."

Apocryphacius < Darkness Face > transforms into his Apocryphacius mode.

Franklin Cross frowns, stooping over the device, poking at it and moving some of the wires around. "One moment, Redfield... Blast... yes, Apocryphacius, fully intact. From the sound of it, I'll bet you want to poke at it. Well, given your... *background* you'd probably have better success than me. I'll authorize it after this experiment's over. Hm, short circuit, eh? Let me replace a circuit..." He begins to rummage around a table, leaving the device exposed to scrutiny while he looks

Jayson Redfield abruptly goes quiet. He's actually a little nervous around Cross, though it doesn't show.

"My background growing up on a tropical island in the Pacific?" Apocryphacius says, amused. But since then, he has had a chance to play catch up on at least some of the technologies for which his species is known, and he has repaired a fair amount of Autobots, who have some siimilarities. "But you are correct, sir. My deepest thanks." He stares at the device as Cross rummages, trying to commit the workings to memory and more - trying to /understand/ the workings. Curiosity is one of his vices. It is a thing that exists, so he has to know how it works.

'Background,' in this case, was actually a polite euphemism for *species.* "Well, I was referring more to your... technical ability," Cross says, emerging with something that looks similar to a PCI card. But, uh, more future-y. He pulls out a similar card from the device and puts the new one in. "I'll just lower... the voltage..." He twists something with a pair of pliers, then gets under the table again to flip a switch. "Okay, power's back on." He steps away from the device. "Okay, Redfield, you see that toggle switch? Flip it on."

"Yes, sir." Jayson approaches the indicated switch and flips it. Let's see what happens!

Apocryphacius keeps a placidly neutral look on his current face, though this one has the most benevolent cast out of his set of five, so he possibly looks somewhat happy despite himself. He watches with mild expectation as Redfield flips the switch... and mentally runs over what to do if Redfield ends up electrocuting himself.

BZZZZT! Jayson Redfield bursts into flames as thousands of volts surge through his body!!! Nah, just kidding.

The device manages to turn on without sparking this time. "Now, watch, Jayson, because you're going to be using weapons like this," Cross says, watching. And... nothing happens right away. Cross frowns. "Hmm, well, give it a bit...."

Jayson Redfield really isn't sure how he feels about such weapons. But either way, he watches...and keeps watching, waiting for the device to do something. He refrains from stating the obvious that nothing's happening.

Apocryphacius has to wonder if Cross plugged everything back in, but he has enough prudence not to say so. He just monitors the readings, particularly what the sensors are picking up with regards to radiation.

The device IS on, and it is putting out the radiation. And, indeed, after a while it seems to work, and the chunk of armor slooowwwly begins to crack. "Ah! There we go. But damn, it's taking so long. There must not be enough juice in the damn thing. And yet, that's what probably blew it out in the first place." He rubs his chin, thinking, staring at the ceiling, his lips moving as he considers a huge range of mathematical equations, device characteristics, so on.

Jayson Redfield again refrains from speaking...this time resisting the urge to mention that even in this day and age, technology isn't always reliable.

Apocryphacius considers the implications that the radiation can work slowly. His mind jump to, well, torture, and his faces shift along with it. Wow. They've just invented water torture for robots. He feels kind of sick. Apocryphacius suggests hesitantly, "Switch to high temperature superconductors?" Just speed up this awful thing and make it quick...

Apocryphacius transforms into his Apocryphacius < Death Face > mode.

Franklin Cross might have considered a use of the weapon for torture if he took the idea of the Cybertronians having feelings seriously. So, at the very least his intellectual arrogance may have spared a few Decepticons a lot of agony. "Good idea," he remarks to Apocryphacius. "The prototypes haven't been suffciently built to withstand extreme heat. That's going to change. I just... need to review the materials we could use..." He pinches his brow, clearly straining at all the advanced technology swirling around in his head. Meanwhile the armor chunk continues to slowly degrade. Oh, yes, it would not be a quick death at all.

Jayson Redfield stares at the degrading armor. The fact that it's not happening quickly bothers him. He's not one to make even his enemies suffer, so a device that kills slowly troubles him a great deal. "Why does it take so long?" he asks carefully as he continues watching. "Are you sure it's because there's not enough 'juice'?"

Apocryphacius < Death Face > points out hesistantly, "Sir, you are the only one who completely understands the workings of these... devices. Yet you baited Shockwave to try to kill you. I am... ah... how can I put this?" He rubs the top of his dome with a tentacle. "Well. I am unsure if you can... 'have it both ways'." His tentacles splay out to his sides. "You can be indispensible and the sole author of such devices, but if that is so, being less reckless with your life me be prudent, sir. "So, ah... with all due respect, please be careful, sir?"

Franklin Cross looks up at the device again as it continues to work. Yep, still hasn't finished the chunk off yet. "I'm certain it's because of the low power output. With a higher degree of output we'd disintegrate it instantly. In fact, we managed to perfect the shell version of the weapon, but those things were supposed to be disposable anyway." He sighs as Apocryphacius explains the problem with his promotion. "You're right, Apocryphacius. I did take a lot of risks in that battle, but they were calculated risks designed to help my men get to safety. I've got a responsibility to them, too. Hm, but even so... if I were to die..." He watches the weapon go to work. "I suppose I have no choice but to trust SOME of my secrets with others, so that the device can be reconstructed without me if it comes to that. Apocryphacius, I want you to build a list of qualified technical personnel. The best and the brightest. This isn't simple stuff to understand, so whoever you put on the list has to be GOOD at what they do. Alright? And get that to me."

Jayson Redfield relaxes a little, but he's still somewhat on edge. He simply nods to Cross at the explanation.

That is not a valid player or gestalt.

Apocryphacius < Death Face > considers for about a half a second and then rattles off a lidt of names. Most of them are gumbies with hilarious names, but Andi Lassister is included, as is anyone who would be convenient for General Cross. Then he pauses for a long time. Somewhat relunctantly, he then adds, "I would also be of sufficient skill to be on the list, sir." He leaves his drawbacks unsaid. They are pretty obvious. Apocryphacius understands if he is left off the team for being nonhuman. (He doesn't like it, but he /understands/ it.)

Apocryphacius < Death Face > transforms into his Apocryphacius < Judgement Face > mode.

Franklin Cross blinks at the Quintesson, surprised. "Well, that was fast." He pulls out a mini-tablet from a pocket, taps it a few times, reviewing the names he was given. "Hm... alright, all good choices, based on what I see here. But why the hell did their parents give them names like THAT?... Hmm, and yes, I agree, Apocryphacius..." He looks at the Quintesson evenly. "Your estimated intelligence level is supposed to be higher than my own, so, I suppose if anyone can understand what I managed to do, you can." Not what Apoc expected? "Well, you can turn the device off, now, Jayson. We'll have to revise the design--again--and try again later. That plainly wasn't fast enough." The block doesn't even look half-crumbled yet. Can you imagine? The *screams* that would be coming out of a Decepticon exposed to this thing...

Andi Lassiter has arrived.

Apocryphacius < Judgement Face > was fast because bringing up a list of names is pretty trivial for him. The Quintesson is floating near some recording equipment and taking notes. Now, he has a theory that his organic components probably get him a few points with Cross. He's not a pure machine. His thoughts are partially squishy. This is, however, the kind of theory he really cannot bring up, because that would be in amazingly poor taste. One does not discuss the shape of one's commander's speciesism with one's commander. But the admission is... yes, surprising. His faces rock back and forth and spin before settling down again. Apocryphacius bobs in something of a bow, if a bow was performed by a floating egg. Then he says quietly, "I am intelligent enough to understand /exactly/ what my situation is, sir." He has no rights. If he misbehaves, Cross can have him vivisected. The Autobots won't shelter him. Even if he managed to escape, the Decepticons or the Quintesson Remnant would kill him. What he should do is very, very logical.

Assuming Apocryphacius behaves in a logical fashion.

"Thank you, sir."

Apocryphacius < Judgement Face > transforms into his Apocryphacius mode.

Franklin Cross thinks. Hm. Andi Lassiter should be in the base right now. He decides to call her to the room they're in. "Think nothing of it, Apocryphacius." If he understands the Quintesson's dilemma, though, he shows little sign other than... "You should know that some of my... peers stated that, due to your alien nature, or rather, the specific kind of alien you are, that you couldn't be trusted. I assured them that you've demonstrated your loyalty, and besides, no sense in discarding your talent simply because you have more faces than the rest of us, right?"

Andi Lassiter enters the base, looking around a bit suspiciously. She doesn't like that she was not informed where the transport was taking her, or the whole cloak and dagger-ness of it. She's directed to a particular door, the MP type person knocking on it for her.

Franklin Cross, hearing the knock, brings up an exterior camera, allowing him to see who's at the door. "Ah, here she is now." He releases the lock on the door, opening it. "Ms. Lassiter, welcome, come on in."

Apocryphacius wonders if Cross is doing that on purpose. Setting himself up as a sympathetic advocate while simultaneously trying to make Apocryphacius paranoid about vague unspecified naysayers. "Hmm. Well. That is nothing surprising. I cannot blame them for their concerns." He stretches a tentacle out and then flicks it in something of a shrug. Perhaps he is just a touch wry as he says, "However, your practicality is deeply appreciated, sir. I should check on the backup cores for the recordings." The backup cores which are in another room, to which he will retreat if allowed. He salutes respectfully and appropriately to Ms. Lassiter.

Franklin Cross nods, waving the Quintesson on. "Very well."

Apocryphacius has left.

Andi Lassiter enters the room, and pauses to smile at Apocryphacius as he passes by on his way out. "Hello, Apocryphacius. Good to see you again." She even reaches to touch one of the Quintesson's tentacles in a hopefully friendly manner. After he's gone she turns to look at the others still in the room, her expression becoming serious and professional.

Jayson Redfield glances over at Andi, his expression brightening. "Miss Lassiter!"

"Good evening, Miss Lassiter," Cross begins as she enters the room. If he found the gesture to the Quintesson odd he doesn't show it. "Have you heard about the new weapon we're employing? It emits what I've termed 'Cybercidic Radiation' because of its ability to disintegrate Cybertronian alloys. And, up until now, I have been the only one who understands how to make them... but... I have decided to share a few of my secrets with others. Such as you."

Andi Lassiter nods a hello to Jayson, then looks at Cross. "I've heard about it, yes. And I do have to wonder why this new weapon was not sent through the normal procedures of the R&D department. But, what's done is done."

Franklin Cross raises a brow. "Well, a fair point. Let us just say it's not a normal weapon. Its discovery was something of an... accident, anyway. But yes, what's done is done." And good luck trying to hold anyone accountable for the breach in standard procedure. "Regardless, you have a background in Quantum Physics that makes you an ideal candidate. So, I'm going to trust you with part of the principles behind this weapon. First, though, I must remind you that this information is highly classified and is not to be shared with those who lack the proper clearance."

Andi Lassiter says, "As is expected."

Franklin Cross nods. "Good. Jayson, could you leave us for a moment?" Cross says. He waits a moment, then continues. "Well, then... I'll share with you..." He looms over an energy projector that sits silently on a table. Slowly, he unscrews the front of the projector, and reaches in delicately. "Ah, here. This is the big and important part right there. A little artificially grown crystal. I've been synthesizing them based on what we learned from the molecular structure of some artifacts we found from Mars. At first we didn't understand what we had found, but after the Long Night, well, it all came together, let's say."

Andi Lassiter leans close and squints at the crystal. "What sort of crystal is it? Quartz?"

"Hm, not quite quartz," Cross says. "It contains many different types of elements--carbon, silicon, several metals--but figuring out how to join the molecules together to synthesize our own crystals was somewhat tricky. Fortunately I know a little chemistry, too. Regardless, the point is, it's something we wouldn't even have bothered to make or look into very much, except for the fact that one of our scientists reported hearing them hum almost imperceptibly at the exact moment that the Decepticons fired the weapon that caused the Long Night. We realized these materials were connected to the attack, and after some experimentation, discovered that the crystals could channel energy."

Andi Lassiter straightens up to look at Cross with a faint frown. "So instead of using this knowledge to create new sources of clean energy, these crystals were turned into weapons?"

Franklin Cross shakes his head. "No, you don't understand. They don't create energy, they're simply... conduits for it. Translators, you might say. And we've discovered that a wide variety of bizarre effects can be reproduced from them, so much so that one could almost call it modern alchemy. But changing the properties of an element requires tremendous power, and that's the difficulty we've been trying to overcome."

Andi Lassiter says, "Really. What other effects have you determined thus far?"

Franklin Cross clenches his teeth, sucking in a breath before he continues. "They can be... *incredibly* dangerous. During an experiment where we tried to make the crystals transmit on a certain frequency, a lab rat used in the experiment exploded instantly on exposure to this new radiation. We determined the effects to be similar to gamma rays. In another incident we blew a hole through the lab, and the beam struck a researcher several rooms away. It didn't kill him, fortunately. He seems to be fine for now--he's getting regular checkups to be sure. But as you can see, effects, and who it's deadly to, can vary wildly. We're honestly not very eager to discover what other frequencies might do once channeled through the crystals. There comes a certain point where you've learned enough, I think you'll agree."

Andi Lassiter crosses her arms. "That sounds too unpredictable to be considered viable. Those sorts of mishaps are why the R&D group has the procedures in place that they do." She can't help but think to herself that the 'certain point' was when this Cross person figured how to make the crystal dangerous to Cybertronians.

That would be a very good guess indeed. "All research involves risk, Miss Lassiter. Some of the scientists of the Manhattan Project believed that their weapon could destroy the entire planet. But it didn't. Ultimately we have benefited from splitting the atom. Besides, once we've narrowed down a particular effect, the crystals reliably reproduce the desired effect every time. It's sort of like having a kaleidoscope, and rotating it about. Then you decide to stop rotating it, leaving it in a particular position. Every time you look down the Kaleidoscope, it will look the same way. Sort of like that."

Andi Lassiter says, "Did you stop to consider how much of the EDC's current transport and weapon technology is based on Cybertronian parts and materials? This sort of weapon presents just as much risk to your own troops as to Decepticons."

Franklin Cross shakes his head. "Actually, the risk is minimal. It is true that many of our vehicles take inspiration from Cybertronian technology, but they don't necessarily use the same alloys. And in those cases where they do use Cybertronian alloys, every man and woman who receives one of these weapons will be properly trained so that they know not to fire if there's any risk of hitting them. In fact, the weapon is not to be directed at humans in the first place, even if it doesn't kill them. We believe there is a cancer risk under direct, prolonged exposure. Ultimately, it is actually less dangerous than many of the other, more conventional energy weapons we employ."

Andi Lassiter raises her eyebrows at that. "May I see your research documentation thus far?"

Franklin Cross nods. "I don't have it on me right now, but I'll send you a physical copy. Keep it in its case when you're not using it, and if you believe that there is a risk it may be acquired by unauthorized persons, you can use the self destruct switch on the case to incinerate the contents. It's not designed to explode--the self-destruction mechanism is contained solely to the contents. Regardless, you'll probably want to get away from the case soon after triggering it, just to be sure."

Andi Lassiter simply nods at that, somehow managing to refrain from rolling her eyes at the excessively paranoid case described by Cross. "You can send it to my residence via courier."

Franklin Cross looks at Andi dubiously. "I'm sorry, but the research materials have to stay inside EDC facilities at all times. I don't believe your home is secure enough for them. Besides, I'd look like a fool if this stuff was stolen by a common burglar."

Andi Lassiter ohs and nods. "Then to my office in the R&D department. Apocryphacius and I can study the data included. And would I be given the opportunity to study a crystal directly?"

Franklin Cross nods at her. "I'll give you a sample. Keep that in the case as well when you're not using it. The crystals are harder to destroy, of course, but the self-destruct mechanism should still work on them if needbe. And Andi, again, I'm not sure I've stressed enough the importance of operational security here. If the Decepticons get their hands on this technology we're all as good as dead."

Andi Lassiter says, "I know. That's my greatest concern, Commander." Well, after the fact that there's a xenophobic warmonger in charge of the EDC. "May I take some preliminary scans while I'm here to study until the sample and documentation arrive?"

"You may," General Cross says. "I have to be in the room while you do so, however. But, take your time, I'm going to look over some of our new vehicular designs while you're busy." He sits himself down at a table, pulling out his mini-tablet. All sort of schematics pop up, his brow furrowing as he reviews them one by one.

Andi Lassiter nods to Cross, then pulls a standard EDC scanner from her bag and sets it to start scanning the crystal. It beeps and blips occasionally, as it collects data, and she watches the little display as it crunches.