“Aethus,” Firestorm says, “what can you tell me about how Quintessons fight and how to defend ourselves from them?”
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Kitai fell silent.
Why here? Why now? Couldn’t i say it myself when i feel it is appropriate?
Well, that rarely ever happens, no does it? What will you say? Well, since we aren’t keeping secrets…
“Shi qui tsu ein esta twi?” (Anything more to ask?) Kitai asked.
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“And Sentinel’s probably been dead a long time now,” Salvage says, “which would leave the quints.”
The Junkion shudders. “It’s not unlike them to hide behind proxies- from what I’ve read, anyway,” he adds. “Firestorm intimidated some of the humans who tried to jump us into talking- I didn’t hear what they said over the comms, but maybe you could talk to him when everybody gets back from the Tomb. Somebody obviously has it out for us, I can tell you that.”
“Eh, I never put too much stock in gut feelings,” Bombasticus replies. “What the slag did my gut know, anyway? I never even had one!”
“There is no book club,” Optimus Prime insists (it isn’t like Beta Maxx to lie, however). “However, I would be interesting in reading what you have written, should that opportunity arise.”
OOC: I’m gonna assume that this is directed at Firestorm, so I’ll tag @BlackBeltGamer98 for him to reply as he sees fit. If this is directed toward any of my NPCs, though, just lemme know.
IC:
“Anticipating a fifth Quintesson War, are we?” Aethus asks Firestorm. “I never believed they were gone for good, either.”
The ghost of the fourteenth Prime takes a step closer to Firestorm, and also to Kitai, if he has also joined this conversation. “The most important thing to keep in mind is that the quintessons are always changing,” he says. “With each universe they invade, they add new soldiers and technology to their forces. They alter their weapons, their starships, their tactics, even their very bodies with each conquest. What my soldiers and I fought in the Fourth War was vastly different from what we faced in the first three. If you expect to fight quintessons, you must be similarly adaptable.”
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“I figured that was obvious, considering they sent a hitman after you. I’d figure we’re onto something, whatever that is.”
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Maximus shrugged his shoulders.
“It doesn’t happen super often, but sometimes my gut will give me a big feeling when something is about to go wrong. Though most of the time it just tells me when I’m hungry.”
The predacon smiled and patted his belly.
“Come to think of it, I haven’t gone hunting in ages.”
He mentioned, more to himself than Bombastica.
Honeycomb beamed with excitement.
“Really? That would be amazing!”
She eagerly exclaimed, barely able to contain her excitement. Even Axis seemed a bit surprised, though she chose not to say anything.
Honeycomb reached behind her and retrieved a hexagon shaped data-pad. She scrolled through various files until she found what she was looking for.
“I’ll share my favorite story. I call it Bug Legends. It’s about these three insecticon friends who get stranded in this strange other world, and while looking for a way home they get caught up in the troubles of the locals. And then there’s this evil warlord emperor that they- well I don’t wanna give away too much. But my friends love it and I’m super proud of it!”
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As the others talk to the Primes, Razor has been thinking. She recalls that the private eye – what was his name? – had made mention of others wanting the journal of Sentinel Prime. She opened the map app on her hologram.
It immediately changed to a grid of planetary systems arranged on the shape of the Milky Way galaxy. She turned to Defender.
“Do you have any knowledge of where someone following us would be?”
Defender knelt down, examining her map.
“Hmm. They would need some good connections to track you. I know that the Human Alliance has that capability, but it might not be wise to suggest that idea. Maybe Lady Axis could contact them about that. But let’s see.”
He zoomed in on several systems, brows contracted with thought. After several minutes, he stood up.
“Lady Axis,” he said, “and gathered Primes, I need a little help. Do any of you know where one could find a person or group of people who would want this journal? I know that that’s a somewhat complicated topic, as many would want such an item, but Razor here just had a good idea.”
“If we know where our attackers are from, we might be able to locate whoever hired them. We know where the Syndicate your hijackers work for is located, but that is currently a dead end. You think there’s anywhere else we might want to look before we call on some other connections?”
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Salvage nods, and turns to look back out the window at the Hydrax Plateau. He is strangely quiet for a moment, before jerking back around and asking:
“What if it’s humans? I mean I know I’m probably not supposed to say that, since were supposed to be allies and all, but what if you’ve got some rogue state that wants to get their hands on ancient cybertronian weapons or something?”
The Junkion is eager to explore any possibility that doesn’t involve quintessons- though like Ivory observed, the pickings look slim there.
“I did some reading about what you guys got up to in the Final War,” he continues. “The Orion Technoarchy, the guys who cooked up the Red Plague? They had these huge Matrioshka Brain AI things that practically ran their whole civilization for them. And that was fifteen thousand years ago now- if somebody kept building onto that tech, maybe they’ve made something by now that can measure up to Vector Sigma. What do you think?”
“Not needing to refuel is a perk of being dead,” Bombasticus replies offhandedly. “Not that I’m encouraging you to hurry up and give it a try, I mean!” she hastily adds, holding up her hands. “No need to rush things, amirite?. Besides, you’ve still got scrap to do here in the land of the living, from what I’m hearing.”
“Another time, perhaps,” Optimus Prime says gently. “There is much to be done, and if the threat is as dire as some of you seem to believe, I would not want to take up any more of your time.”
The faceless Prime who had approached Defender and Razor earlier leans in and peers at the holographic map- as much as a being with no discernable eyes could peer, anyway.
“In my time, humanity was the greatest ally of our people,” he says to Defender. “You are right that accusing them of perpetrating these attacks would be unwise. Far better to enlist their aid in your endeavors, I think- if you can manage it.”
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“Yeah, I’ve already had a taste of the whole being dead thing. And it really wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but I’m also in no hurry to go back. Especially with everything going on right now.” Maximus said casually.
“Oh, right. That makes sense.” Honeycomb replied. She sounded a little disappointed, but Optimus did make a good point. So she wasn’t too let down. She then put her data pad back away behind her.
Axis looked at the insecticon curiously. Her eager enthusiasm and apparent nativity stuck out to her. She spoke to Optimus as if she had no idea who he was. While it wasn’t unusual for Eukaris natives to not be super familiar with the 13 Primes, most she knew weren’t quite this clueless.
“Excuse me, Honeycomb was it? Would you mind telling me a bit about yourself? Specifically where you’re from, and if you wouldn’t mind, your age?” Asked the Prime.
“Oh, uh, well I’m from the Below. Though I haven’t actually been home in a long while. And I’m about 200. 201 in a couple months. Why do you ask?” Honeycomb replied.
She’s a child!
Axis was visibly a bit surprised, though she did her best to keep it hidden. “Right then. So, do you know exactly what you’re getting into?”
Honeycomb shrugged. “I guess? Some great big space adventure. Something about saving the universe. Sounds like a good chance to see the stars if you ask me.”
“Well you’re not entirely wrong. But there’s a lot more to it than that.” Axis said calmly. “This journy will be dangerous. More than anything you’ve experienced before. The enemies we face are unknown, and there’s no telling what challenges lay ahead. You could very likely be hurt, or worse killed. I won’t tell you that you’re not allowed to join. But considering how young you are… I just want to make sure you understand what you’re going to be a part of.”
Honeycomb was quiet for a few long moments as she thought things over and reflected on Axis’ words. When she did speak, her tone was confident, and very determined. “Back home, I always tried to help out whoever I could. Anyone who was hurting or upset, I always did the best I could to support them. Even if it wasn’t a lot. And this, it seems like a way for me to help everyone, and I bet you guys will probably need all the help you can get. So, even if I might not be able to provide much, I at least have to try.”
Axis nodded. “Very well then. If that’s how you feel, then so it will be. Your efforts will certainly be appreciated.”
Nova, during all of this, was rather bored. Axis was off talking to some big important looking ghosts, Maximus was talking to another ghost, and she just felt like she had nothing to do.
The girl idly looked around the chamber within the comfort of her mech, when suddenly she spotted an absolutely beautiful looking spear. Following said spear, she noticed it was attached to a not quite as attractive mechanical ghost woman.
Nova decided to approach the spear wielding apparition. Though once she was close her curiosity took hold. Before she introduced herself, she tried waving Gungnir’s hand through the spirit.
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“Well, then we’ll have quite the challenge ahead of us, for as good at adapting as we are, I’ve noticed a lot of stubbornness and pride in our military history.” Firestorm says.
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Defender nods in agreement, his face similarly void of expression as he contemplates this task.
“I’ll need the ship to link to their transmission network,” he says. “They use different frequencies, with less power than our own transmitters. May need someone skilled with their tech–“ His voice breaks off as he sees Gungnir standing across the room. He breaks into a grin.
“I believe that we have someone who can do that.”
Oreo has remained silent throughout the conversation. As Defender finishes talking, he looks up. He sees an expression form on the ancient Cybertronian that has not been seen in centuries: a concentration, a determination to complete a mission set for him. As he looks, Defender stands up, then walks over to Axis.
“Lady Prime, I would like to use your ship’s transmitter to see if I can contact the Human government about these recent attacks. They would be of great assistance in our search, as they could easily prevent more of themselves from working against our mission. With your permission, I would also have them take the hijackers into custody, as they are currently an unnecessary burden during this mission. Unless, of course, you have other plans?”
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“Possibly, I wouldn’t put it past them. Humans are factitious things, even more than we are, they will bicker and fight over the smallest differences, ideals, or mere power. Even if it isn’t the same group, i’m sure any sort of human sepratists, cultists, or even just a megalomaniac could try and put them to use.”
He thought a moment.
“Something I hadn’t thought about, but we’re assuming the party in question is actually capable of cracking it, and doesn’t just think they can. Less assumptions that way, which tends to lead towards a correct answer. Are you familiar with Occam’s Razor?”
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Axis turned to defender and responded quickly.
“I see no issue. Keeping the humans in the loop and out of the way would be a good idea. Do as you wish.”
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At this, Defender salutes the Primes, and heads for the door of the room. Oreo and Razor follow, Razor looking quite excited.
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“Well, then I guess I shouldn’t keep you, on that note” Bombasticus says. “Might wanna get your Conjux over there to wrap up this little party and get back to it.”
Armax Prime frowns as Gungnir’s hand passes through her torso, her armor plating shimmering around the intrusive appendage.
“Yes, I am indeed an incorporeal apparition,” she deadpans. “Is your curiosity now sated?”
“Yes, Pride is our people’s greatest vice, I would say,” Aethus agrees, the vapor beneath his faceplate turning violet. "Perhaps the quintessons are the universe’s way of keeping our egos in check.
“On that note, I would not hesitate to enlist the aid of the other races, should a new war come to pass,” the fourteenth Prime adds. “The nebulons helped the Thirteen close the Benzuli expanse, and my forces would not have prevailed in the Fourth War without the intercession of the humans. Build trust and look for allies… even in the most unlikely places.”
Aethus makes no obvious indication that he’s referring to Kitai in that last remark, but coincidentally, some of the more unusual or eccentric characters among our heroes are reflected on his visor: a cybertronian-quintesson hybrid, a mikesu rockstar, a member of an obscure cult, and a bot decorated with Nabisco brand logos. It takes all kinds to save creation.
Many of the visitors that were cleared out of the Tomb of the Primes have left now, at the behest of the Knights of Cybertron guarding the place. Some, like the grey-and-purple Follower and human woman writing into a datapad, have continued to linger, however.
Contacting representatives of the United Human Polities would require some hoop-jumping for ordinary citizens, but Defender may have greater ease there, given his background. The official data networks of Avalon Prime, the human heartland, may be a good place to start.
The human mercenaries who attacked the Pulsar are still secure in their makeshift cell, fortunately, and their weapons and gear are secure in the cargo hold. Their dropship, shot down by Nova, likely lies in ruins among the hills between the Hydrax Plateau and Iacon.
“The simplest explanation’s usually correct, yeah?” Salvage replies. "Are you saying we’re thinking about this too hard?
“You know, that’d be the first time anybody’s accused me of that,” he chuckles.
OOC: thank you all again for your patience.
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Nova quickly retracted her hand.
“Yes. Sorry.” She replied, somewhat nervously.
“Um, hi. My name’s Nova. I just wanted to say I really love your spear.” She said, pointing to Armax’s weapon.
Maximus nodded. “Good idea. This has been nice and all, but we can’t exactly afford to waste a lot of time down here.” The predacon smiled before he turned to leave. “It was nice meeting you. Hope you have a nice, uh… afterlife.”
The predacon turned and walked up to Axis. Before he spoke he took a moment to bow to the 12 Primes before him. When he stood back up, he looked to his conjux.
“So, have you found out everything you need to know?” He asked.
“Yes. I’d say I’m just about done here. I’ll give the others a moment to wrap up whatever conversations they might be having, and then we’ll be on our way.” Axis replied.
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Defender and the others walk over to the Pulsar.
“It appears that someone has put your ship in lockdown,” Defender says, trying to open an access hatch.
“Hey Ivory, could you unlock the ship? Axis found someone who can take the hijackers off your hands for a while,” Oreo says over the comms.
As there is no response, Oreo tries repeating himself, this time asking Salvage to unlock the ship.
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“Many hands make light work and there is great strength in numbers.” Firestorm chuckles, “plus, you make a good point; it is often from the most unlikely that greatness arises.” He remembers how Liege was a key part to the last big adventure to save the universe, “extra firepower wouldn’t hurt but I worry about present company.” He says, briefly glancing at Megatronus.
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Defender placed his hand against the keypad on the hatch. It transforms into a data connection, linked with the keypad. Suddenly, lightning arcs from his hand, throwing him backwards.
“Those are some nice security systems,” he says.
He draws his railgun from its shoulder mount.
“Open the hatch!!! Ivory, Salvage, open it,” Oreo screams into the comlink.
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“Hm. Well, thank you,” the spectre of Armax replies, tossing the ghostly spear into her other hand and twirling it once. “It served me well in life. It was human-made, actually, given to me by the Empress of the Lucillan. She was a rather unpleasant woman, honestly, but it was the diplomatic thing to do. And I suppose I learned to never again underestimate human craftsmanship, as well.”
Optimus Prime’s spectre disappears, the thirteenth Prime likely drawing himself back to Trecedim to continue his endless vigil over the moon. The other ghosts within the Tomb continue to loiter about, occasionally glancing at Axis as they did. Some regard her with a neutral expression, others a more critical stare, and others still don’t quite seem to know what to make of her yet.
As it was the Matrix that brought them here in the first place, invoking the talisman’s power again will likely send them away. Though why and how the Matrix conjured these ghosts here remains a mystery.
Megatronus returns Firestorm’s gaze. Perhaps surprisingly, he smiles, as if greeting an old friend.
Aethus picks up on the implication behind the Headmaster’s words- or what he believes to be the implication, anyway. “Megatronus taught us to not deny ourselves any advantage, ally, or asset in battle,” he says. “If you come to need the Requiem Blaster again, I’m sure that he will understand.”
“Hey, hey! Chill, guys, just give me a minute,” Salvage groans through the commlink. A second later, the cargo bay’s spherical hatch peels open, its panels retreating into the hull.
“Did the humans not teach you guys how to knock when they rebuilt you, or something?” Salvage grumbles. “For spark’s sake…”
The grey-and-purple Follower first steps forward, perhaps to defend the Pulsar from perceived intrusion, but when he sees Oreo, Defender, and Razor being allowed inside, he relents. Not far away, the blonde-haired human woman notes his reaction with intrigue.
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Armax couldn’t see, but Nova had quite the grin at that remark. Gungnir struck a bit of a pose, something that looked confident.
“Well you got that right. Humans are definitely known to impress from time to time. Though the cybertronian stuff I’ve seen is pretty cool too. And I’ve noticed a few interesting similarities between the tech around here, and the stuff I’m familiar with.”
Over five thousand years, Axis had generally learned not to question what the Matrix did. It didn’t always make sense, and it wasn’t always consistent. But trying to understand the exact mechanics of a solidified piece of Primus was an effort in futility.
Though with Optimus gone, she was quickly aware of the many gazes of the other Primes. She turned around, looking over the greater hall before her. Granted not all of them were looking at her. But even if only half of them were, that was far too many eyes.
She felt frozen, paralyzed almost. She awkwardly shuffled her feet, suddenly feeling the pressure of a thousand eyes judging her.
“Hey, are you okay?” Honeycomb asked.
“If I am being perfectly honest… no.” Axis quietly replied.
“What’s wrong?”
“You said you worked in food collection, yes?” The Prime asked, still keeping her eyes focused across the expanse of the necropolis.
The insecticon nodded. “Mm-hm.”
“Imagine for a moment that food collection is the most important task there is. Second only to the queen herself. And you’re the only one there to do it. Everyone depends directly on you to be fed. And then one day, every single food gatherer in the entire history of The Below is gathered in a single chamber. They’re all looking at you. They’re all… judging you.”
Honeycomb shuttered. “Yeah, that does sound really stressful. But I doubt that every single one of them is judging you that badly. At least a few of these guys have to think you’ve been doing a good job.”
Axis nodded. “I suppose so. I know, logically, that every last one of them can’t be so critical. That some may indeed see me favorably… but that knowledge still brings little comfort.”
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