Fleet swoops down from the sky and transforms, touching down gently. Why Polyhex? Why today? Why not! The pastel wonder was getting restless in Nightseige, and besides, Polyhex is their city, too. Of course, all of Cybertron is the Decepticons', it's just that some sections are more... confused than others. Of course, in order to enter this City, this monument to Decepticon power, one must go through... the Customs Gate! For even the mighty Empire of the Decepticons is no match for the power of red tape!

Earthscorch walks along, looking around like a kid at Disneyland. Well, a kid with no visible emotion whatsoever at Disneyland. He spots some people he knows and hesitates only briefly before walking over toward them.

F-35 <Catechism> is out to see modern Cybertron in more detail than an overhead flyby can provide. Red tape does not faze her. She's dealt with quite a bit of it recently and expects to deal with quite a bit more as time progresses. Red tape is a part of life. Why worry about it?

Fleet steps in line at a point that isn't really the end. This may be dangerous, but hey... he's a Decepticon warrior, and these people are just... /civilians/. If that isn't worth SOME perks, what is? Of course, being not particularly bold, he doesn't step in TOO close to the front, and he picks his victim carefully as one that looks like they're easily cowed. Then he turns away from them as though to hint that they're beneath his notice and inclines his head towards Earthscorch. "Earthscorch. I didn't expect to encounter you here." Of course, he didn't expect not to, either, but hey.

Earthscorch strides forward until he's within conversational distance from the two familiar faces, then says, "Greetings. I realized I had not been to Polyhex in quite some time. As soon as Nightsiege was built I made it my home, but it does not hurt to remember where you came from, does it?" He smiles as though forced to do so at gun-point.

Fleet tilts his head slightly upwards as the line moves forward. Slowly. He seems to seriously consider what was probably a rhetorical question. "I suppose not," the seeker replies softly.

Fleet straightens his head and looks straight forward. "Provided that the spending too much time in the then doesn't interfere with the now," he adds.

F-35 <Catechism> lands and joins the line. Taking a spot near the end, she ponders things. Fleet and... Earthscorch, was it it? are a bit ahead in the line. On one hand, it would be a simple matter to shove away the fellow behind Fleet and take his spot, and such actions would be well in keeping with the philosophy of taking whatever she can, simply because she can, even if it just a better spot in the line. On the other hand, there is something to be said for following proper protocol. So Catechism stays at the end of the line for now, still thinking.

F-35, Marine Corps variant, transforms into robot form. Catechism's feet unfold, her arms unfold out of her body, her nosecone rotates through her body and ends up on her shoulders to expose her face, and her wings rotate into position.

Earthscorch hmms as Catechism stays back in line a bit, but says nothing, nor does he do anything to encourage her to cut ahead. He looks ahead at the line and frowns. "It used to be a lot easier to get in here. When I was CO of Aerospace I could have got us in without any lines. I doubt my clout would get us very far nowadays, though."

Fleet glances up as a familiar style aircraft flies overhead. Here on Cybertron, it is the Earth-style jets that tend to stick out, and although plenty of Seekers have Terran alt-modes, few enough have /that/ particular one. And then she... lands and stands at the back of the line. Catechism is being less pushy than Fleet? Odd day. The seeker cocks his head to one side, slightly puzzled, and then shouts, "Hoy! Catechism! Get up here!" Then he turns his attention back to Earthscorch and listens a bit before shrugging. "Back when Aerospace was separate. I wasn't aware that you used to be Air Commander."

Catechism glances back up the line, over at Fleet. Maybe he just wants to get her in trouble by encourage her to ditch in the line? Odd thought, that, although she's currently chosen to stand at the end of the line, and she's both rather stubborn and rather good at rationalising things. The conehead crosses her arms and calls back, "Why should I?"

Fleet stares blankly at Catechism for several long moments. Oy! Coneheads! Sometimes Sweeps make more sense! "Well, you don't have to if you don't want to!" he shouts back, then turns around and turns his attention back to his conversation with Earthscorch. If Catechism wants to be silly, let her. It's no metal shavings off his nose!

Earthscorch largely ignores the conversation between Fleet and Catechism. Let her join them or not at her leisure. He addresses Fleet in a break in their conversation, saying, "I was CO of Aerospace for a brief time -- twice, I believe. Things were in constant turbulence then; and still are, really. Just how long were you eh, gone or otherwise out of touch?"

Fleet shrugs both shoulders. "I wasn't really gone," he says as the line moves forward again, allowing them to creep forward just a bit more. "It was just that, up until my assignment to Earth, I managed to stay sufficiently out of... view that it really didn't matter much to me /who/ the CO was. Commanders come and go," Fleet absently waves his hand in a dismissive gesture, "but ultimately it makes little difference in the life of the grunt." In other words, he just wasn't inclined to care about who the boss was until recently.

Earthscorch chuckles. "I sometimes wonder if that isn't the way to live. I used to dream of leadership, but it came and went, and it just seems distasteful to me now... I've been a bit of a hermit recently..." He moves forward with the line as he speaks.

Catechism keeps her arms crossed and taps her foot. It is an awfully long line. Is anyone really going to get that mad if she knocks over a few putzes? An open-handed shove against an over-glorified drone or two isn't infighting, is it? Seeing Cybertron is less than thrilling when all she sees is a line. Stifling a growl, Catechism steps out of line, scowls at those who have got in line behind her, strides over to Fleet and Earthscorch, and gives the fellows behind them a good push. There. Standing in line advanced. Funny how gaining rank can work that way - just shove the guy ahead of you away and take his spot.

Fleet chuckles a bit wryly. "So in other words, you've become more what I once was. It served as a method of survival, for a time, but like all things, it doesn't last. Sooner or later, you need a new strategy." The seeker raises his head and glances behind him as Catechism finally decides to join them, a slight smile slithering across his lips. "Good of you to join us, Catechism."

Earthscorch smirks at Catechism, unkindly, as she muscles her way to them. "Decided to join us, did you?" Without waiting for an answer he goes back to talking to Fleet. "I've found rank to be a revolving door, prone to the whims of our eh..." -- he lowers his voice -- "unstable leadership."

Catechism presses her hands together and bends back her fingers until the metal whines in protest. Then, she drops her hands to her side and glances at the line behind her speculatively. No one wants to make any trouble? Good. Catechism shrugs and replies, "It beats standing in the back."

Fleet's smile gets equally unkind, and he tilts his head slightly downwards as he looks at Earthscorch out of the corner of his optic field. Foolish, to express such sentiments in such a public place, with so many others around. You never know who could be listening. "What point is it to always spend such energy pursuing rank, anyway? Such energy better put to other purposes. So many look down on the rank-and-file, the day-to-day grunts such as myself. Foolish. We are the foundation of the Empire, and no building stands long without a foundation. There is no shame in such service." He nods to Catechism as he takes another few steps towards the gates. Almost to the checkpoint now! "Indeed," he agrees simply.

Earthscorch says, "I can tell you what the point is: power gains you many perks. Cutting in line is the least of them." He stops and smiles, perhaps genuinely, before continuing. "Job security is not one... I have my own building in Nighsiege I procured during my stint as CO. A mean living quarters, but preferable to the barracks. The down side is that you are in the eye of the Command and have less leeway. However... I really only want a hand in eliminating the Autobots, and I feel I can contribute more efficiently from a command position than merely on the battlefield.""

Catechism takes a moment to get a feel for the conversation, perhaps longer than she should. It might be because she's still wary of retribution for stepping ahead in line. It's more likely because she's is just a bit dense, at least compared to her usual company. Catechism simply states her basic philosophy surrounding matters of rank and duty to the cause, "One should serve the cause as best one can. If it means a command post, so be it. If it means never rising above the rank and file, so be that, too."

Fleet chuckles softly and once more tilts his head back up as he steps forward. "Perks. Ah. Very important, that." He pauses for a moment, and although his smile fades, it doesn't flee entirely. "Well, if you truly feel that, you'd be best served not playing the hermit any longer." He inclines his head towards Catechism who, despite her density, is making a rather good point. "Foundation, pillar, or pinnacle, all these parts serve, but if you withdraw in annoyance, you contribute nothing at all. This was has been fought for many millions of years, and odds are in favor that it will go on for a good deal longer. The best way to ensure that you, at least, will lose, even if your side doesn't, is to quit it all."

Earthscorch nods and smiles approvingly at Catechism. "There you go. Some are meant to serve, others to command. I feel I am the latter." He listens to Fleet's statement and his smile fades. "I do not know if I have it in me to command any longer. I fear I have lost some faith in the Empire, and am finding it difficult to regain that faith."

Fleet tilts his head and again glances sideways at Earthscorch. "Many FEEL they are meant to command, who are not. I've run into plenty of them. If you lose faith so easily, perhaps you are mistaken," he states cooly, no rudeness or taunting to the tone. Just dry observation of the situation as he sees it.

Catechism frowns slightly and puts her hands on her hips. A bit disdainfully, she says, "Look, if you'd better serve the cause by commanding, do it. If that proves to not be the case, there is always room in the rank and file. Sitting around and doing nothing only wastes time and materials." Pointy, pointy head and a demeanour blunter than a ten tonne hammer.

Earthscorch doesn't miss Fleet's subtext and does not appear amused. "I feel there are many of that ilk in our command. But that's bound to happen when ranks rise and fall like Earth's tides. With our lack of stability, it's no wonder the Autobots so easily make sport of us now, when we've had a clear advantage historically." Frowns as Catechism speaks and turns on her. "What do you know about it? It takes a serious mind to serve."

And Fleet, in turn, turns on Earthscorch. "So it's stability you want, is it? I suppose you enjoyed the energon shortages, shortages so bad that most this planet went into stasis! I suppose today, where we have enough energon to serve our purposes over the next several /years/ is much worse than those millions of years where no PROGRESS was made on either side because neither side had the STRENGTH to do anything! Oh, yes, stability! A WONDERFUL thing!"

Earthscorch says, "That was the Autobots' doing. By forcing us to continue to fight, and to seek them out due to their cowardly guerilla tactics, our resources were expended, while at the same time the Autobots drained them. When we finally did locate a new source of energon, the Autobots interfered with our harvesting of it. I'm not really sure what you're trying to say here."

"Change is the nature of our people," Catechism snorts. She leans back a little and glances up skyward. "If an officer cannot hold his rank, he did not deserve it in the first place. What do I know of it? Nothing." She smiles. "I'm just rank and file. But I know that indecision is a waste of time."

Earthscorch snorts. "No officer can hold rank the way things are now. Promotions and demotions are given out with no rhyme or reason. Nothing can be accomplished while the Decepticons are so unfocused."

Fleet throws back his head and actually laughs. "I'm saying what you call 'stability' may actually be 'stagnation.'" He crosses his arms and tilts his head towards Catechism. "She's showing more sense than you are. Change is a fact of life. It's a fact of the universe. When you stop changing, you die. The world changes, you change to adapt, you change, and force the world to adapt. It feeds itself. And as for your 'That was the Autobots fault.' Well, blaming them does not make them go away. They have to be delt with, and if we got ourselves to the point where we couldn't act anymore for lack of energon, obviously we weren't dealing with them very well and HAD to change."

Earthscorch says, "Very well, then. Let us look at that change. Our commanders were killed and replaced with strangers, a huge portion of our troops were destroyed, we were driven from our planet, and now we wither away in entropy, fighting a war of attrition that will leave neither side with enough people left to enjoy their victory, should it ever come."

Fleet snickers softly and narrows his eyes, shifting back and forth on his feet as he settles into his argument. "So you blame the coming of Unicron on our current leadership? I think the first lead to the second, rather than the other way around, and fail to see how they could have stopped him anyway. We were driven off our planet, and now we are BACK, and hold most of planet. And that's despite the fact that we lost a HUGE portion of our troops. And unlike that four million-year-famine, we now have the resources to support our side. Great Primus, Earthscorch, look at the facts! Our current leadership lead us back from the brink of extinction, and you're moping over a few recent setbacks!"

Earthscorch crosses his arms. "I was using a rediculous arguement to counter a rediculous arguement. I did not expect you to be able to understand that." He turns away from Fleet to Catechism. "So you believe you're better suited for survival than Megatron? Is that why you're alive and he isn't? Any of us could die at any time. If you were torn to pieces by Sky Lynx, would you assume you weren't fit to survive, or accept that it was just your bad luck that you were attacked by someone stronger than yourself? At least we still have Shockwave. He led us through many fine millennia."

"Oh, yes, those were fine years. Just ask Catechism! Oh, wait, you can't, because she was put into stasis thanks to our energon shortages! Oh, yes, those were some fine years! The good old days when you were lucky if you had the energy to walk for a day!" The yellow seeker shakes his head and laughs, a down-right unholy expression of glee on his otherwise mild face. "And I must say I'm truly amused that when I counter your arguments point by point, you simply dismiss your own original points as 'ridiculous' as a way to avoid having to face them. Yes, you're right, Earthscorch. Maybe you are better off playing the hermit. In fact, stasis might be a good option. That would be a very... stable environment for you."

Catechism holds out her hands, palms up and empty, as if to show that in those hands she holds no weapons. Of course she doesn't. She's got her guns on her upper arms and a knife in subspace. It makes the gesture a bit facetious. Quiet and quite serious, Catechism says, a snarl tingeing her voice, "If I die, it is my own fool fault, and in that case, I would deserve death for being stupid enough to die in the first place. So is the case for all the dead, no matter how useful and powerful they may have been in life."

Earthscorch says, "You're being rediculous, because I merely stated that stability is preferable to the full chaos we live in today, and you began rambling about energy shortages. Don't try to convince me that you're the sensible one here. Your emotional display belies your lack of ability to make an intelligent conversation." He turns back to Catechism, as he gets it from both sides. "Death isn't always within our control. Those who were crushed by Unicron while in their rest states hardly died due to incompetence. All we are is dust in the wind, little seeker.""

Earthscorch says, "But anyways, I believe I will take my leave. This conversation has become... distasteful to me."

Earthscorch moves into the air, pulling in his arms and legs until they are one with his body. His wings fold forward while his nosecone folds down. Where Earthscorch once stood, there is only a hoverjet.

Catechism snorts as Earthscorch leaves and mutters something about how if one is foolish enough to let the circumstances of one's life and death get out of one's control, there are inevitabley consequences. Catechism knows and still kicks herself over it now and then. Deadpan, she comments, "Beautiful example of why if one loses rank one never deserved it in the first place."

Fleet laughs at the departing Earthscorch and shakes his head as the other departs. "Really. Even chaos is preferable to stagnation, and /that's/ what we had under Shockwave's glorious rule." He looks at Catechism and smirks slightly. "He's longing for a 'good old days' that never existed, the poor, sad, fool, and runs away from any viewpoint that contradicts his own. Oh yes, stagnation suits him." By this point, they're at the front of the line. Hey! What do you know! The seeker heads into the gates, just kind of assuming Catechism will follow him.

You move west to the Customs Gate.