NCC Coastline

 

     It is a tribute to the construction of the city that they were successfully able to integrate a Cybertronian landscape into something as un-Cybertronian as a coastline. This, more than any other area in New Crystal City, is unable to keep the Cybertron feel. The shoreline consists of a metal cliff-face that descends deep into the water. The tide causes the water level to rise up slightly, but clearly the designers didn't wish to have the ocean interfere with the city. The coastline of New Crystal City serves as the gateway to the rest of the city. Roadways start and end here and travel up into the sky, supported by strong metal struts. One can gain easy access to the Residential Zone, the Spaceport, or the Central Hub. A single metal dock extends out of the island, designed to facilitate the few Imperial sea-going vessels that are owned.

 

Contents:

Imperial Vessel <Despoiler>

Obvious exits:

 North <N> leads to NCC Central Hub.

 East <E> leads to NCC Residential Plaza.

 West <W> leads to NCC Spaceport.

Fly <Up>  Ocean <O> 

 

Airwolf arrives from the NCC Central Hub to the north.

Airwolf has arrived.

 

Scrapper is currently at the Despoiler, hanging out with a bunch of gumby technicians. Five in total, the Decepticon MSEers are on the docks, and seem to be patting each other on the back and congratulating each other for some reason. Infra-red will indicate that the Despoiler's engines are warm, as if they've just been in use. From the looks of it, the five are just a few moments away from handing out cigars to random people passing by.

 

Airwolf senses an outpouring of good cheer in the vicinity. Did someone finally off Motormaster? No, that's too much to hope for. That mech will be around until he finally tries to take over and gets disintegrated by Galvatron. Ordinary observation tells her that it's something to do with the miserable ship that Scrapper is building. Yes, that's MSE down there, and that's a good reason to find a hiding place.

 

If someone offs Motormaster, Airwolf will know about it about quickly. Instead of Decepticons shaking each others' hands, they'd be drunk off their skidplates, singing lewd songs, and generally partying the day away. Not noticing Air 'voyeur' Wolf, Scrapper gestures grandly to the Despoiler and exclaims, "The first successful test burn at 00 percent output, gentlemechs. Once the hull's reinforcement is done, we will be ready for her next maiden voyage to the stars." The other four cheer, and within moments some of Mixmaster's ener-brew is being passed around.

 

Airwolf has pondered the classification of Mixmaster's brew as a poison, and here's an opportunity to observe the effects on the hapless mechs involved in this spontaneous celebration. She has no interest at all in the Despoiler, partly because it is Motormaster's pet project, and partly because it's a typical product of the Empire: something meant to destroy rather than create.

 

"First the seas of this dustball, next the far reaching vastness of space!" One of the gumbies says, raising his energon cube up high in a toast. The others, including Scrapper, repeat the toast and raise their cubes in celebration. "And to hopefully getting Motormaster to shut the glitch up!" Another tacks on, getting a laugh from the other four Decepticons. Scrapper finally notices Airwolf lingering towards them, and he waves her over (as well as any other Decepticon who happens to be passing by). Scrapper tosses her one of the energon cubes Mixmaster has spiced up.

 

Airwolf has no intention of sampling the poison, and though she catches the cube, she doesn't touch its contents. As it happens, one of the joyous celebrators is more than happy to take it off her hands. Oh joy, a party. She knew she should have taken off for more geological studies instead of coming in this direction. Primus, what was she thinking for even coming near to the Despoiler? Dustball, eh? She estimates that over 70% of this planet is water, not dust, so that's a misnomenclature. Waterball would be more accurate, but she doubts it will catch on; not denigratory enough for her comrades.

 

Scrapper doesn't seem to notice that his gesture of goodwill was given to someone else. Hey, it's a party, and Scrapper's only paying attention to what /he's/ consuming, thankyewveddy much. He assumes that the others can get overenergized without his help. They are Decepticons, afterall. Scrapper slurps up his energon cube without the aid of a mouth (animation error?) and wanders over towards Airwolf. "Did you hear? Maiden voyage, Airwolf. I can't wait to find us a freighter or two, grapple with it, board it, and loot 'er for all she's worth. It'll be just like the time Megatron and the rest of us Constructs did it."

 

Scrapper adds, "Only that was an Autobot shuttle, of course."

 

Airwolf is... underwhelmed with the prospect of the treats in store for Scrapper and his merry band of criminals. Er, Decepticons. "Those of us with FTL capability aren't as thrilled with the concept of a maiden voyage, Commander." Wet blanket, yes. Party pooper, oh yes. She observes Scrapper briefly, trying to resolve the mechanism by which he drinks... A straw? None visible now, but that doesn't mean there wasn't one.

 

Scrapper's secret way of drinking energon shall remain a closely guarded one. It ranks right up there with the whereabouts of Alpha Trion and Vector Sigma. Spooky, no? The Constructicon snorts, but doesn't take the reply personally. "Nah, nah nah, it's still going to be good for them. No longer will they have to fight monsters like Sky Lynx and Jetfire alone. Now the rest of us boys can get out on deck and start shootin'." Maybe. "See, I'd like to get the harpoon the Despoiler uses to be space-worthy. Just imagine reelin' in an enemy ship full of energon."

 

Airwolf does some elementary calculations and shrugs. "Not likely, considering the mass involved. Even the strongest cable we currently have would snap easily. Plus, there's the complicating factor that the crew of the attacked ship, knowing that they will all die anyway, would simply let you close and then detonate the energon, destroying both their own ship and the Despoiler." Oooooooo, that's a nice wet blanket comment.

 

Scrapper grunts and takes another sip of another energon cube to make himself feel better. Wait! Too fast so ya missed seeing how he did it. Scrapper shrugs and waves his hand vaguely, "So we'll find another way then. Tractor beams, maybe. Or... maybe some kind of really big magnet..." he says, fishing around for ideas. "And I think you underestimate the cowardice of some of the fleshbags out there. Nah, so long as we let 'em live, they'll continue to be slaggin' cowards and we can take what we want with hardly a fight."

 

Airwolf arches a brow ridge and notes, "Standard Imperial procedure is to kill everything that is not Decepticon, and that *is* usually the outcome unless there are time constraints that force an early retreat. Cowardice is not applicable in a situation in which you will die anywhere. Even a turbo-rat will fight when cornered." In answer to some of Scrapper's speculations, "Tractor beams are likely to work, but magnetics may backfire and disrupt our own instrumentation." Ah hah! She figures it out: Scrapper has a mouth hidden behind his mouthplate.

 

Scrapper sighs at Airwolf and shakes his head, "I mean no offence, Governor," he says, using the rather rare title, "But you don't know slag about Decepticon war tactics. And believe me, the fact that someone like /me/ is telling you this is quite amazing. Think about it: When we go raiding for parts from the fleshbags, do we step on every one that we find? Nah, we hardly kill any of the little buggers at all. Standard Imperial procedure my left interface node." Scrapper's tongue evidently gets a tad more loose with the ener-brew.

 

Airwolf points out, "Consider those who raid, Commander. If they had the time, yes, they would indeed step on every one they could find. Time and interference from the Autobots and/or EDC are all that prevents them from doing just that. I may not be present, but I am DCI enough to correlate information from various broadband and news sources and put together a picture of what occurred." She's wasting her time, and she knows it. The likes of her comrades simply don't see what's going on before their optics, and certainly not when judgment has been adversely affected by overenergizing.

 

Scrapper snorts, obviously not having a lot of faith in Airwolf's knowledge of what goes on during battles. "Fleshbags are beneath us. Not many of us kill 'em just for the fun of it. Unless they're in one of those funky suits of theirs. Then we just have to smite them, same as any other evil dogooder." He finishes off his energon cube (missed it again when you blinked!) and says, "Whatever... anyway, the point is, you're wrong. The Despoiler will make for a fine pirate vessel. Even if the Captain's a nutjob." He snickers to himself.

 

Airwolf hasn't much faith, period. The Empire she serves is a pit of scum and villainy. Loyalty isn't rewarded; brutality and destruction is, and that says a lot about the worthiness of the culture. Or lack thereof. The only things the Empire has built in the past nine million years are two new bases, one of which was simply replacing one that was destroyed and the other an advancement of the war effort. Crystal City doesn't count, as it was a political and psychological strategy. "Those in exo-suits are warriors and thus are fair game, but those who are not are merely civilians and should never be touched." Stop arguing the point, she tells herself firmly. There are stirrings in that locked cage inside of her as the Beast tests its bonds again. The day she loses control of the Beast is the day that someone dies, and not just herself.

 

Ignorance is bliss, and Scrapper is just blissful enough not to care about all that political stuff and the sociological fact that the Transformer race has been stagnant for eons. Humans are the ones who are going to win this war since they're actually advancing, and it doesn't look like they're going to stop anytime soon. But Scrapper believes in the theory that says once the Bots are gone, the Decepticons can advance the race without interference... which'll consist of taking over the rest of the Galaxy, but hey. "So? Not /that/ many people go after the normal fleshlings... they scurry away, we do our thing, and everybody's happy! I still think you're wrong. We won't kill 'em. We'll enslave 'em!" he says as if that was a million times better.

 

Airwolf just... stares in silence for a minute. "You haven't the slightest idea of what you're saying, do you? I was a slave once, hired out as common labor by one of my previous commanders, and one thing you learn and never forget is hatred." Her voice drops to barely above a whisper, "A fire that grows from a tiny flame to an inferno and slowly burns away all sense of self preservation. You would do anything, *anything* to destroy your masters. Attack in your millions with rocks, even, but any enslaved species will have better technology than that. They will attack with sabotage and bombs and self destructs, eagerly vying for the honour of dying so that they can take some of the hated masters with them. Do not speak of enslaving, for that is another step on the path to destruction."

 

Scrapper glares at Airwolf in annoyance, putting down his energon cube to better focus on the discussion at hand. Of course, the damage has been done and he's already a little bit tipsy, so Airwolf has the advantage in this conversation already. He leans in as Airwolf whispers so he can better hear it. Scrapper frowns behind his faceplate, fidgeting slightly. He's reminded of the old stories of the Quintessons on Cybertron and how they slaved all the Transformers. He grunts in a non-committed manner, just enough over-energized to make him not admit when he might be wrong. "Well... I still say you're wrong about the standard Imperial procedure... if we wanted to kill all the fleshlings... we'd have killed a whole lot more than we have."

 

Airwolf senses a weakening in Scrapper's stand and is Decepticon enough to attack the weak point. As so frequently before, she echoes Scrapper's own thoughts like his oft-ignored conscience. "We Transformers were once enslaved by the Quintessons, you may recall. We rebelled, drove our Quintesson masters off of Cybertron, and eventually destroyed their homeworld. If not for Trokius, the Quintessons would be nothing today. *That*, from a slave race. Were we so kind to our African subjects, the greatest chance we ever had to legitimize the Empire as a true Empire instead of the chaotic conglomeration it is now? No, we took them into our Empire and then betrayed and destroyed them. Who would ever believe in our good will again? Idiots and fools, no doubt, which would add even more idiocy and foolishness to the Empire should we annex them as well. With that one stroke, we ended all possibility of creating a true Empire." Oh, bitterness couldn't even begin to describe what she felt about that, the Empire's last chance. The last turnoff from the path to self destruction, and they blithely chose to leap over a cliff instead.

 

Scrapper waves his hand dismissively, "Alright, alright, alright. But all that means is that we have to be BETTER at holding them than the Quintessons were with us. I'll admit the fleshlings surprise all of us every once and a while, but they don't really stand much of a chance against us so long as we're careful. He notices Airwolf's bitterness, and indeed has to compare it to the fact that it ain't all that Decepticonish. How'd this crazy femme ever become one of us anyhow? Scrapper shakes his head in disgust at Airwolf's general lack of confidence and cowardice. "You should bring this up to Galvatron," he snickers.

 

Airwolf shrugs. "I have."

 

Scrapper raises an optical ridge in surprise. "And?" he asks, wondering why she's even still alive.

 

"He disagreed," Airwolf responds laconically. No more detail than that, especially as it was several Galvatrons ago.

 

Scrapper grunts and is silent for a few moments as he looks around, retrieving his earlier abandoned energon cube which miraculously wasn't snatched up by another of the celebrating technicians. "Oh." He finally says. Glancing up at the Despoiler, he's about to change the subject to that, but remembers the ship is what started all this. "So... uh... how've you been?"

 

Airwolf can't blink, but that's the impulse at the change of subject. She also is silent for a few minutes, staring directly at Scrapper with crimson optics noticeably brighter than usual. Resuming her normal tone, she says cryptically, "You are not... bad, Scrapper. Ignorant in some ways, but not bad." And ignorance can be cured... Primus, was that a backhanded compliment? What would Omega think at these sentiments? Way too late for a reconciliation, even if either side wanted one.

 

Scrapper is just a wee bit drunk, so he doesn't notice the backhandedness of the compliment. "Hear hear!" he says, raising his energon cube as if Airwolf had just made a toast. "You're not bad yourself aside from the fact that you seem to think DCI is the place for you." he shrugs, not realizing Airwolf just wants to take advantage of the cracks in the bureaucracy. And no, Scrapper wants no reconciliation. Nine million years of being hunted makes you not like the hunter.

 

Airwolf shrugs again. "There is no place for me, actually. I would prefer a project leadership over the rebuilding of Cybertron, but I suspect that has been dropped. Other than that... anything but MilOps."

 

Scrapper shrugs, "We're rebuilding Cuprahex." He says even though that's just going to be a sensor outpost. Another addition to the war effort. "There's plenty more outposts out there to be made. And yeah, Military Operations is pretty bad, I've heard. I mean, with Motormaster running it and all... so, does this mean you're signing on with MSE full time?" he asks.

 

Airwolf isn't going to give the poor mech an answer now. Not until she has the background in geology and mining. At that point, she can make legitimate suggestions for how she is used instead of being ordered to San Francisco for another useless attack there. "It depends on the results of my studies," she says, "which are still continuing. If they conclude successfully, then yes." That buys her some time. Poor Scrapper. O:)

 

Scrapper wasn't expecting an answer anyway. He's been asking for fricking months with no luck. Annoying femme con. But at least she seems open to the idea of saying yes. Yay! "Alrighty then. I'm sure your studies will be successful. You've caught on fairly quickly, even if the enthusiasm isn't always there." Were he less modest, he might say that this is because he is Scrapper, and Scrapper is awesome.

 

Airwolf has left.