Perihelion - Tactics - Chapter 4
Title: Perihelion
Chapter: 5/??
Author: Unseen_Daydream
Warnings: Plot thickener, mentions of torture, pre-'femmes being awesome kick-aft fighters'
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide, Optimus, Ratchet, Minor OCs
Rateing: PG
Summary: To stave off the cold of the war, one must cling tightly to their ideals. But do not cling too closely or you shall find that you are holding onto the sun: so bright and warm and hot that your wings shall melt and your neck will break as you crash into the sea.
Note: I have a confession to make: this chapter has been done for a week. I wright all my work on paper, type it up and then post it here after going through it, and I've had this chapter done for a week now. I just never posted it. Sorry!
Previous Chapters
“This,” Optimus begins, voice grim, “is not good.”
Stalwart, one of Jazz’s spies, nods, “The neutrals honestly believe the Autobots to be the enemy. Our soldiers are being met with open hostility often times breaking out into violence. Our support from various factories is being cut. The neutrals are suspicious of all Autobot Sympathizers; I saw a group of neutral turn on one who declared that we Autobots would never perform such atrocities. He was killed.”
Prowl sits silently, lower face blocked from view as he leans against entwined servos. He analyzes the data, processing the most recent move of the Decepticons. Truly, they are living up to their namesake.
In all strategic cities throughout Cybertron, abductions have ben taking place for the Past two Vorns. Mechs included, but mostly it was Femmes and Younglings who were the victims. However isn’t unusual, despite its despicableness, for scavengers to kidnap the neutral bots, especially younglings and femmes, the more vulnerable victims of war, and to strip them of their parts to later sell to surely patrons. Optimus had a small teams looking into it, but could afford no more as the war began to escalate. Finally, those missing have appeared, but most definitely not in the state they disappeared in.
Bodies broken and torn apart and welded back together again haphazardly, obvious experimentation, parts swapped with other bots, from spark chambers to heads. Groups of them merged together, two or more frames broken down and rebuilt as multiple Cybertonians who shared one frame were strewn up, bound by Energon Binds and metal that had been melted and poured over their bodies. Video Captures show evidence of the victims having been alive for the entire time. And awake.
They were all dead now though, a small mercy, from an empathetic standpoint, as with the damage done it is obvious that there is absolutely nothing any of their medics could have done for them at this point. And Prowl does consider it a small mercy, but he despairs as well, knowing that with all the victims dead the situation has become that much more dire for them.
For when the bodies began to pile up an “Autobot” was in each locations proclaiming their deeds, demanding the neutral become “Autobot” slaves. The Autobot symbol was painted over the bodies, burned into them. News of the “Autobot Massacre” is spreading fast and whispers that the Massacres of Manaflux and the fall of Praxus were actually Autobot in origin. The Neutrals are attacking every Autobot on sight en masse; leading to either the Death or Serious injury of the Soldier or the increase of distrust and anger of the Neutrals should the Autobots defend themselves.
Even the neutrals of Iacon are nervous, becoming fearful of the sight of any with the Autobot brand. And supplies previously bought or given from the Neutral are ceasing, more and more neutral are going to the Decepticons for protection and those too weak to be considered useful are killed and once more set out into the city with their deaths blamed on the Autobots. Anything they do now will be seen as evil, ever attempt at helping will be met with hostility, and any Autobot sympathizers speaking out will be killed. There is nothing that the mechs of the army can do.
And perhaps that is the key to victory…
“Prowl?” Optimus calls and Prowl is aware that his contemplation has gathered the attention of everyone there. Jazz said once before that he goes into a “thinkin’ pose” when he is planning and that a “Smug-like Eureka kinda face when ya’ve gotta planned figur’d out,” alerts everyone of when Prowl comes up with a workable idea. Though Prowl isn’t quite sure what Jazz means as he’s never looked at his own face as he solves a problem before.
Prowl glance around the room, mentally predicting the levels of outrage that would soon be displayed. Without moving from his seat, Prowl begins speaking even as his battle computer is creating and disposing different courses of action, “The situation,” Prowl begins, voice firm and servos still stapled tightly before him, “is not promising,” a snort from Ratchet and a mumbled phrase which Prowl ignores, “our spies and infiltrators will not be believed, our front liners will be shot outright, and a mass influx of Decepticons will outnumber us five to one. By sheer numbers alone we will be crushed if the situation is not turned to our favor,” Silence, obviously no one had realized exactly how dire the situation was turning out to be, “The largest percentage of the victims have been younglings and femmes with…obvious signs of experimentation and torture.”
“You gonnna keep summarizing or do you have a point here Prowl?” Ratchet grouses, righteous anger striking out.
Ignoring him, Prowl stands abruptly, activating a terminal. A rectangular segment in front of Prowl rises to meet his servos. The surface is smooth and worn with age, without any distinguishing marks. Other officers jokingly call it “Prowl’s terminal” as through many long Orns of planning the marks and edges have long since been smoothed away. Prowl remains standing, his servos flying across the terminal and calling up holographic screens in the center of the round metal table. He brings up a globe of Cybertron spinning slowly on it axis. A few more commands and the Decepticon, Autobot, and Neutral territories are glowing in purple, red, and yellow respectively. The main base of each faction glow in their color but darker and major cities glow in green while smaller one are a simple black.
“this,” Prowl begins,” is a map of our planet’s current territory divisions,” a few more commands and many of the green dots are circled in purple, mostly in Autobot and Neutral territory, “These are all the location that the Decepticons have hit,” a few more commands and light purple spreads outwards from each of the cities struck by the Decepticons, “this is the predicted sphere of influence the Decepticons will gain should we do nothing as word spreads of the Autobots’ ‘deeds’.” The light purple expands outward until a majority of Cybertron is cloaked in it.
The room is quiet besides the uneasy shifting and whine of distressed weapons systems, “what do you purpose we do, sir?” Exponent, current third in command, asks voice steady and carefully neutral.
Silently, prowl inputs more commands, and twice as many cities as before are circled in red though over half of the cities are the small black ones and some of those cities are deep in Deception territory. Some of the cities circled in red have already been circled in purple, and other cities circled in purple are left alone. A similar sphere of influence spreads out from the cities circled in red, spreading out slower but the shade of red being darker than the shade of purple used for the Deceptions, representing a slower but more effective plan of action.
“After the initial shock, anger, and fear settles the neutrals will be more susceptible to doubt. We will plant agents in now so that when the time comes our agents will hopefully be accepted parts of the communities. When the times comes our agents will implant the ideas of doubt. Chief Special Operative Jazz will decide the methods and individual requirement for each city as each has their own temperament and culture.”
“Waita’ breem there Prowl, why aren’t more of ‘em Decepticon spots targets?” Ironhide calls out.
“If we target only the same places the Deceptions did the Decepticons will quickly become aware of our presence and raze the cities to the ground. As it is by targeting several nonessential cities the Deceptions will be unable to tell if the progression is natural or if it is our doing as well as having more difficulties pinpointing the exact origins of the doubt. It is extremely precarious and with many variables changing from community to community but this is our best chance.” His voice is firm and his tone serious.
Jazz, tilting his head to the side, frowns lightly as he takes in the holographic planet. Without looking away he activates his own terminal as he stands, directly opposite of prowl. Jazz fiddles with the terminal, changing several locations and adding more along the outskirts of Decepticon territory where the low ranking soldiers patrol and the families of the Decepticons reside, “We kin defin’tly infiltrate Prowl, but Ahm not sure if they’re gonna believe us.”
Here the officers turn their gazes back to Prowl, whose sensory panels twitch briefly before responding, “They will believe us because they will not suspect those we send as being Autobots.”
“N’ how’re we gonna do that Prowl?” Jazz asks his voice free of mocking but serious in tone.
Prowl’s sensory panels twitch again and he shifts slightly. The movement would have gone unnoticed completely if not for the fact that so many optics are trained on him.
“Prowl?” Optimus inquires, a hint of dread coating his voice.
With a slight stiffening of his body Prowl speaks firmly, “mechs will not be trusted as it is common knowledge that the victims are mostly femmes. And mech proclaiming Autobot innocence will be ostracized with suspicion of being an Autobot solider. In order for this to work it must be the femmes who infiltrate the cities.”
Immediately there is a roar of outrage from a majority of the officers while those not protesting loudly are looking stupefied. For a bream it continues until Primes’ booming voice resounds, “Silence!’ the room quiets instantly, “prowl,” he begins, leaning forward from his seat and optics gazing intently, “Is using the femmes truly necessary?”
“Yes,” Prowl affirms without hesitation, “We have only one chance to turn the planet to our favor. Should we fail at this our ultimate defeat is guaranteed. The femmes have a much higher chance of success.”
The silence that follows is thick, none wanting to believe the truth of the statement but unable to deny it. For a long moment Optimus is silent before speaking, voice firm with grim determination, “So it shall be. Prowl, Jazz, I want you two to come up with a list of suitable femmes and I want you preparing alternatives as well, we cannot force the femmes into such a risky position. You will also solidify target areas. Ironhide, procure weapons for the femmes that can be kept well hidden, they will not be going out there defenseless. Radiomark, find a way the femmes can send distress beacons without alerting the Decepticons as some of them will be in enemy territory, Are there any issues?”
“Prime, Yah can’ be serious! There’s gotta be a betta’ way!” Ironhide calls, voice incredulous.
“If Prowl says it is the only way then it is. I’ve no doubt in Prowl’s abilities,” Optimus’s voice is firm, further questions along that line obviously no longer welcome, “Anything else?” silence, “Then we are adjourned.”
Around the table mechs stand, congregating in groups of two or three, muttering aloud and over internal com lines about the meeting, no one truly happy with the plans. For several Kilcks the holograms remains spinning before dissolving out of existence.
“if this plan a’ yurs fails n’ gits the femmes killed it’ll be yur fault Prowl,” Ironhide grouses before marching past, frame tense.
“I am well aware,” Prowl responds to no one, voice monotonous but underlining with tension.
Jazz appears then, helping Prowl gather the accumulated datapads filled with the tentative plans made. His voice is soothing, “Yur in da right Prowl.”
“I know I am”
“Ever’things gonna be jus’ fine. We got dis.”
“The femmes were not designed for war Jazz.”
“Neither wuz Aye,” he drawls and pauses. The two stand facing each other in the empty war room with vital information gathered like sparkling in their arms. Jazz shifts the gathered datapads to one arm and brushes his servos against Prowl’s face with the other. Prowl’s optics dim as he leans into the touch, “N’ neither were ya. We jus’ gotta make sure da femme’s perpared is all. Teach ‘em what dey gotta know, keep ‘em safe.”
For a few breams there is silence, each drawing comfort from the other. The world waits for no one though and so the pair finishes gathering their datapads, walking side by side towards Prowl’s office to begin their tactical planning. Their shoulders brushing with each step.
Chapter: 5/??
Author: Unseen_Daydream
Warnings: Plot thickener, mentions of torture, pre-'femmes being awesome kick-aft fighters'
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide, Optimus, Ratchet, Minor OCs
Rateing: PG
Summary: To stave off the cold of the war, one must cling tightly to their ideals. But do not cling too closely or you shall find that you are holding onto the sun: so bright and warm and hot that your wings shall melt and your neck will break as you crash into the sea.
Note: I have a confession to make: this chapter has been done for a week. I wright all my work on paper, type it up and then post it here after going through it, and I've had this chapter done for a week now. I just never posted it. Sorry!
Previous Chapters
“This,” Optimus begins, voice grim, “is not good.”
Stalwart, one of Jazz’s spies, nods, “The neutrals honestly believe the Autobots to be the enemy. Our soldiers are being met with open hostility often times breaking out into violence. Our support from various factories is being cut. The neutrals are suspicious of all Autobot Sympathizers; I saw a group of neutral turn on one who declared that we Autobots would never perform such atrocities. He was killed.”
Prowl sits silently, lower face blocked from view as he leans against entwined servos. He analyzes the data, processing the most recent move of the Decepticons. Truly, they are living up to their namesake.
In all strategic cities throughout Cybertron, abductions have ben taking place for the Past two Vorns. Mechs included, but mostly it was Femmes and Younglings who were the victims. However isn’t unusual, despite its despicableness, for scavengers to kidnap the neutral bots, especially younglings and femmes, the more vulnerable victims of war, and to strip them of their parts to later sell to surely patrons. Optimus had a small teams looking into it, but could afford no more as the war began to escalate. Finally, those missing have appeared, but most definitely not in the state they disappeared in.
Bodies broken and torn apart and welded back together again haphazardly, obvious experimentation, parts swapped with other bots, from spark chambers to heads. Groups of them merged together, two or more frames broken down and rebuilt as multiple Cybertonians who shared one frame were strewn up, bound by Energon Binds and metal that had been melted and poured over their bodies. Video Captures show evidence of the victims having been alive for the entire time. And awake.
They were all dead now though, a small mercy, from an empathetic standpoint, as with the damage done it is obvious that there is absolutely nothing any of their medics could have done for them at this point. And Prowl does consider it a small mercy, but he despairs as well, knowing that with all the victims dead the situation has become that much more dire for them.
For when the bodies began to pile up an “Autobot” was in each locations proclaiming their deeds, demanding the neutral become “Autobot” slaves. The Autobot symbol was painted over the bodies, burned into them. News of the “Autobot Massacre” is spreading fast and whispers that the Massacres of Manaflux and the fall of Praxus were actually Autobot in origin. The Neutrals are attacking every Autobot on sight en masse; leading to either the Death or Serious injury of the Soldier or the increase of distrust and anger of the Neutrals should the Autobots defend themselves.
Even the neutrals of Iacon are nervous, becoming fearful of the sight of any with the Autobot brand. And supplies previously bought or given from the Neutral are ceasing, more and more neutral are going to the Decepticons for protection and those too weak to be considered useful are killed and once more set out into the city with their deaths blamed on the Autobots. Anything they do now will be seen as evil, ever attempt at helping will be met with hostility, and any Autobot sympathizers speaking out will be killed. There is nothing that the mechs of the army can do.
And perhaps that is the key to victory…
“Prowl?” Optimus calls and Prowl is aware that his contemplation has gathered the attention of everyone there. Jazz said once before that he goes into a “thinkin’ pose” when he is planning and that a “Smug-like Eureka kinda face when ya’ve gotta planned figur’d out,” alerts everyone of when Prowl comes up with a workable idea. Though Prowl isn’t quite sure what Jazz means as he’s never looked at his own face as he solves a problem before.
Prowl glance around the room, mentally predicting the levels of outrage that would soon be displayed. Without moving from his seat, Prowl begins speaking even as his battle computer is creating and disposing different courses of action, “The situation,” Prowl begins, voice firm and servos still stapled tightly before him, “is not promising,” a snort from Ratchet and a mumbled phrase which Prowl ignores, “our spies and infiltrators will not be believed, our front liners will be shot outright, and a mass influx of Decepticons will outnumber us five to one. By sheer numbers alone we will be crushed if the situation is not turned to our favor,” Silence, obviously no one had realized exactly how dire the situation was turning out to be, “The largest percentage of the victims have been younglings and femmes with…obvious signs of experimentation and torture.”
“You gonnna keep summarizing or do you have a point here Prowl?” Ratchet grouses, righteous anger striking out.
Ignoring him, Prowl stands abruptly, activating a terminal. A rectangular segment in front of Prowl rises to meet his servos. The surface is smooth and worn with age, without any distinguishing marks. Other officers jokingly call it “Prowl’s terminal” as through many long Orns of planning the marks and edges have long since been smoothed away. Prowl remains standing, his servos flying across the terminal and calling up holographic screens in the center of the round metal table. He brings up a globe of Cybertron spinning slowly on it axis. A few more commands and the Decepticon, Autobot, and Neutral territories are glowing in purple, red, and yellow respectively. The main base of each faction glow in their color but darker and major cities glow in green while smaller one are a simple black.
“this,” Prowl begins,” is a map of our planet’s current territory divisions,” a few more commands and many of the green dots are circled in purple, mostly in Autobot and Neutral territory, “These are all the location that the Decepticons have hit,” a few more commands and light purple spreads outwards from each of the cities struck by the Decepticons, “this is the predicted sphere of influence the Decepticons will gain should we do nothing as word spreads of the Autobots’ ‘deeds’.” The light purple expands outward until a majority of Cybertron is cloaked in it.
The room is quiet besides the uneasy shifting and whine of distressed weapons systems, “what do you purpose we do, sir?” Exponent, current third in command, asks voice steady and carefully neutral.
Silently, prowl inputs more commands, and twice as many cities as before are circled in red though over half of the cities are the small black ones and some of those cities are deep in Deception territory. Some of the cities circled in red have already been circled in purple, and other cities circled in purple are left alone. A similar sphere of influence spreads out from the cities circled in red, spreading out slower but the shade of red being darker than the shade of purple used for the Deceptions, representing a slower but more effective plan of action.
“After the initial shock, anger, and fear settles the neutrals will be more susceptible to doubt. We will plant agents in now so that when the time comes our agents will hopefully be accepted parts of the communities. When the times comes our agents will implant the ideas of doubt. Chief Special Operative Jazz will decide the methods and individual requirement for each city as each has their own temperament and culture.”
“Waita’ breem there Prowl, why aren’t more of ‘em Decepticon spots targets?” Ironhide calls out.
“If we target only the same places the Deceptions did the Decepticons will quickly become aware of our presence and raze the cities to the ground. As it is by targeting several nonessential cities the Deceptions will be unable to tell if the progression is natural or if it is our doing as well as having more difficulties pinpointing the exact origins of the doubt. It is extremely precarious and with many variables changing from community to community but this is our best chance.” His voice is firm and his tone serious.
Jazz, tilting his head to the side, frowns lightly as he takes in the holographic planet. Without looking away he activates his own terminal as he stands, directly opposite of prowl. Jazz fiddles with the terminal, changing several locations and adding more along the outskirts of Decepticon territory where the low ranking soldiers patrol and the families of the Decepticons reside, “We kin defin’tly infiltrate Prowl, but Ahm not sure if they’re gonna believe us.”
Here the officers turn their gazes back to Prowl, whose sensory panels twitch briefly before responding, “They will believe us because they will not suspect those we send as being Autobots.”
“N’ how’re we gonna do that Prowl?” Jazz asks his voice free of mocking but serious in tone.
Prowl’s sensory panels twitch again and he shifts slightly. The movement would have gone unnoticed completely if not for the fact that so many optics are trained on him.
“Prowl?” Optimus inquires, a hint of dread coating his voice.
With a slight stiffening of his body Prowl speaks firmly, “mechs will not be trusted as it is common knowledge that the victims are mostly femmes. And mech proclaiming Autobot innocence will be ostracized with suspicion of being an Autobot solider. In order for this to work it must be the femmes who infiltrate the cities.”
Immediately there is a roar of outrage from a majority of the officers while those not protesting loudly are looking stupefied. For a bream it continues until Primes’ booming voice resounds, “Silence!’ the room quiets instantly, “prowl,” he begins, leaning forward from his seat and optics gazing intently, “Is using the femmes truly necessary?”
“Yes,” Prowl affirms without hesitation, “We have only one chance to turn the planet to our favor. Should we fail at this our ultimate defeat is guaranteed. The femmes have a much higher chance of success.”
The silence that follows is thick, none wanting to believe the truth of the statement but unable to deny it. For a long moment Optimus is silent before speaking, voice firm with grim determination, “So it shall be. Prowl, Jazz, I want you two to come up with a list of suitable femmes and I want you preparing alternatives as well, we cannot force the femmes into such a risky position. You will also solidify target areas. Ironhide, procure weapons for the femmes that can be kept well hidden, they will not be going out there defenseless. Radiomark, find a way the femmes can send distress beacons without alerting the Decepticons as some of them will be in enemy territory, Are there any issues?”
“Prime, Yah can’ be serious! There’s gotta be a betta’ way!” Ironhide calls, voice incredulous.
“If Prowl says it is the only way then it is. I’ve no doubt in Prowl’s abilities,” Optimus’s voice is firm, further questions along that line obviously no longer welcome, “Anything else?” silence, “Then we are adjourned.”
Around the table mechs stand, congregating in groups of two or three, muttering aloud and over internal com lines about the meeting, no one truly happy with the plans. For several Kilcks the holograms remains spinning before dissolving out of existence.
“if this plan a’ yurs fails n’ gits the femmes killed it’ll be yur fault Prowl,” Ironhide grouses before marching past, frame tense.
“I am well aware,” Prowl responds to no one, voice monotonous but underlining with tension.
Jazz appears then, helping Prowl gather the accumulated datapads filled with the tentative plans made. His voice is soothing, “Yur in da right Prowl.”
“I know I am”
“Ever’things gonna be jus’ fine. We got dis.”
“The femmes were not designed for war Jazz.”
“Neither wuz Aye,” he drawls and pauses. The two stand facing each other in the empty war room with vital information gathered like sparkling in their arms. Jazz shifts the gathered datapads to one arm and brushes his servos against Prowl’s face with the other. Prowl’s optics dim as he leans into the touch, “N’ neither were ya. We jus’ gotta make sure da femme’s perpared is all. Teach ‘em what dey gotta know, keep ‘em safe.”
For a few breams there is silence, each drawing comfort from the other. The world waits for no one though and so the pair finishes gathering their datapads, walking side by side towards Prowl’s office to begin their tactical planning. Their shoulders brushing with each step.