Back to 2011 Logs Tuesday, August 09, 2011, 7:33 PM
What had been a fairly routine meeting in Ratchet's office over a staffing issue had turned into an emergency meeting, one that had been moved to the war room to accomodate the additional personnel. In addition to Prime, Prowl was present, doorwings twitching; Ratchet's apprentice (but not the medic himself), and a slightly rusty green femme with purple optics and no visible sigil of any sort. "Thank you for coming so promptly, Jazz. We appear to have a situation." Optimus Prime says.
Prowl looks up from the console he's been glaring at almost the entire time, still frowning. "We may require your immediate assistance. The Decepticons have gained custody of a datapad containing enough information about First Aid and his brothers to not only put them in immense danger, but also reveal the truth about their connection."
The aforementioned rust covered femme is standing by Prowl, swaying as she fluidly shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Her purple optics turn and glance over Jazz curiously, but then she quickly averts her gaze.
Jazz notes the green femme's glance and gives her a quick smile. "Just how much is in that datapad, Prowl? How long they had it, an' where're the boys right now?
Optimus Prime pulls out the chair at the head of the conference table and sits, nodding to everyone else to do the same thing. "The contents of the datapad, specifically, are still being reconstructed-" he shoots a glance at the rust-covered femme. "It was the property of Swivel, who is a neutral resident of Cubricon. She lost it while being chased by Decepticons earlier and it was recovered by one of the Cons. At the least, it contains the identities of all five Protectobots and identifies them as brothers. Four of them are still here in Iacon, although I have some hope Protofire may be convinced to reconsider taking Groove back to Crystal City. Streetwise, however, has already returned to Cubricon, and First Aid has been unable to speak with him regarding this new problem."
Prowl drops into the chair he's been standing by, doorswings still twitching in agitation. "Regardless of how much more information the datapad contains, that alone is possibly enough to get them all killed." He all but snaps, shifting his attention back to the console in front of him. "I do not know exactly how long they have had it, but it has only basic encryption. The only thing currently in our favor is we have been able to identify one of the Decepticons in possession of it- Psykeout."
Swivel winces noticeably when she is glanced at, and then mentioned. She shuffles over to a seat and sits down on it, placing her hands in his lap. She stares straight ahead, at nothing in particular, and remains in this calm daze as people talk around her. The only thing that seems to bring her out of it is hearing Psykeout's name. She raises a hand tentatively, and then begins to speak in her high, girlish voice, "Um... pardon... but.... as I've been thinking... it may take a while for the information to reach those at Polyhex. Although a Decepticon, Psykeout puts his own agenda first, so we may have some time... but even that maybe is a stretch."
Jazz frowns at the mention of Psykeout's name. "Okay, then. Good t' know we may have a bit o' time, but how quick can we get those boys rounded up an' under wraps? I don' wanna let that guy get his hands on 'em. He's a crazy brand o' Nasty."
Optimus Prime shakes his head. "We cannot force them to remain in Iacon if they do not wish to, Jazz. Streetwise has made his desire to remain in Cubricon clear, and his father does have bodyguards, although how they would fare against a serious attempt by the Decepticons, I do not know.... and Groove is a student sworn to the Temple of Primus. The best we can do for them is offer our protection if they wish. I believe the best course of action would be to attempt to retrieve the datapad."
"I have spoken to Protofire already today. Unfortunately, he appears unwilling to allow Groove to remain. He has agreed to allow me to help secure a safe journey, but I fear this may not be enough." Prowl says, glancing up at Jazz. "Unless we retrieve that datapad, this could all go very badly. Do you think you would be able to get it back?"
Jazz says, "Does the Heirophant recharge in the Temple? I can manage it. What can y' tell me about Psykeout's whereabouts right now?"
"Polyhex, presumably, although I hesitate to authorize a recovery mission without a more concrete lead," Optimus Prime pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, looking tired. "Recovering that datapad, however, is of the utmost importance."
Swivel had gone back to being quiet, several times looking as though to speak, but then giving a little jerk of her head as if to shake off the thoughts. However finally Swivel speaks, "Psykeout has an office out of Polyhex that he works out of. He also is often looking for victims that won't be missed. Cubicron is a prime spot to locate him and... of course... he'll also be looking for me..."
The corner of Prowl's mouth twitches up slightly at Jazz's response. "I still have to ask, Jazz." He answers, looking back down at his console. At Swivel's words, though, his gaze snaps back up, doorwings flaring out in alarm. "He is likely to be in Cubicron?" He looks over at Optimus, worry etched into his expression. "Prime..."
Ratchet enters from Command Level Roadway .
Jazz says, "Sounds t' me like we need someone who looks like they wouldn't be missed. I c'n scuzz up my paintjob, slouch around, get myself picked up by the rusted waste of electrons, that way I'm in and can grab the datapad."
"Pyskeout is not the only predator in Cubicron, Jazz. How certain of success do you feel this plan would be?" Optimus Prime asks. "And how quickly could you put it into action?"
Ratchet arrives at the War Room and glares at Prowl -- -comm-You _owe_ me...-/comm- he snarls over a tightbeam -- and takes a free seat at the table. He exvents heavily.
-comm-”My apologies, Ratchet. I did not mean to create such an issue.-/comm- Prowl answers the medic, looking down at his console again. "This is of absolute importance. I do not think we can stress this enough." He says out loud, tapping out something into a report. "I can attempt to speak to Protofire about Groove remaining here again, though I doubt his opinion will change."
Swivel frowns and slouches in her seat, trying to make her already small frame even tinier. She glances about everyone, and then finally says in a quiet voice, "Psykeout might actually jump at the opportunity to grab an Autobot... if they looked vulnerable enough. However, it's hard to predict really what he'll do. The only consisten thing I can think of is he..." she trails off for a moment, and then straightens up and puts on a strange smile, "I'm his only consistency. We have a history."
Jazz rubs his chin thoughtfully with one hand. "There's gettin' caught by Psykeout, or there's skulkin' around and sneakin' into his place when he goes out -- either way, it could be fast, and needs t' be fast, an' I'm yer 'Bot t' do it fast. I got no wish t' put the lady inta danger, but she'd be useful t' work with on this, if she's willing?"
Optimus Prime 's eyes narrow slightly as he frowns behind the battlemask. "Willing or not, the Autobots do not put civilians into danger if we can avoid it. Unless there is no other way, Jazz, I cannot agree with that plan of action."
Prowl tilts his head consideringly. "It would be far more efficient if Swivel assisted, but I agree with Prime. Too many people are already in danger. I do not doubt you are capable of finding a better way, Jazz."
Swivel shakes her head. "I wish I could be of use... but..." she sighs for a moment. "There is one thing. Do not let him know I came to you. If he found out I involved Autobots in our, uh, feud, it will only get worse for me. He'll have another reason to hate me. Oh... don't worry. He's not going to kill me..." that strange smiles broadens, and she doesn't look at anyone in particular, "...until he's done with me."
Jazz gives a worried look at the femme's odd smile. "Jes' thought the lady might wanna chance t' get back at Psykeout. But yer right, Prime, Prowl, I wouldn't wanna get her in more trouble. I got some people I can call in, I can get the thing back fer ya.
Optimus Prime nods decisively. "Alright. The sooner you can put that plan into action, the better. Any resources you need that are not part of your usual arsenal are at your disposal. Prowl, do you have anything to add?"
"Nothing that Jazz does not already know." Prowl says almost absently, turning his focus back onto his console.
Swivel finally removes her hands from her lap to idly place one on the table, tapping a finger. There is no rhythm to this intermittent little noise, and she stares off thoughtfully. Her smile remains. "Revenge is not my way. It would not make me happy... but I was wondering... if you see an arm that looks like mine when you get the diary... could you grab that too? I'd like it back." It was hard to see beneath all the rust that her arms did not quite match each other perfectly, although one was as close as it could get.
"However, do not worry too much about it. It's just that I'm rather attached to my arm." She lets out a small giggle.
Ratchet quirks an optic ridge and peers at Swivel, then angles a look toward First Aid.
Jazz makes some mental notes to learn more about the lady with the concerningly-creepy smile. "I'll keep an eye open, sure! I figure I can get this done tonight -- the sooner the better. I'll talk with Ol' Doc Ratchet about a coupla things, then head out. Okay, Prime?"
First Aid tilts his head curiously at Ratchet. What?
Optimus Prime nods solemnly. "Thank you very much, Jazz. I know I can count on you."
Ratchet gestures with his head toward Swivel. His optics narrow.
Optimus Prime pushes his chair back. "If there's nothing else you all need from me, I must go and speak with Red Alert, who has been pinging me for the last five breems. If you need any further assistance from me, I am of course available." The big mech stands up, moving carefully towards the door with a nod of farewell to everyone.