Transformers: Steel Reign

[Agent Fisher]

Stryke looked at Crimson. "It could be." He said. The warbot shrugged. "I think it would be more likely that he would hit a large city, wipe out everyone there and in the chaos, hit our energy production."

[General Havoc]

Wheeljack nodded thoughtfully. "Well it can never hurt to have another experienced warrior on the line, particularly a flier. This one," he gestured at Hornet, "tries his best, but he does tend to need direction."

Hornet crossed his wings and pretended to pout, but Wheeljack merely patted him on the head and chuckled.

"Well welcome to Earth," he said. "I'm Wheeljack, I'm the resident experimental engineer around here. Much of the ordinance you employ will probably be my design. And this here," he picked Hornet up with one arm, "is Hornet. Hornet's my little pet project, you might say. An experiment I've been running into Transformer psychology."

Hornet didn't seem to object to this designation. "Hi." he said, waving from Wheeljack's grasp.

[B4UTRUST]

If Slipstream were capable of the human action of blinking in confusion he probably would have done it about then. As it stood, he was still very much confused.
"Pet Project? Psychology? Are you saying you created Hornet here as a test subject?"

[General Havoc]

"No," said Wheeljack, "not exactly. Hornet isn't the test subject, he's the test. He's not a normal transformer that I've been experimenting on. I created him to be something... unique. He is, as far as I can tell, the closest thing that we as a species have to what the humans of this planet would call a child. He's a fractal template, programmed to grow and develop as a person, not merely by learning new facts. It's all a bit technical I'm afraid, but... he's essentially something of a prototype."

Hornet meanwhile objected not in the slightest to any of this description, occupied with humming a little tune he had heard somewhere.

"I hope he's not too much of a handful for you to deal with. Not everyone appreciates his er... eccentricities."

[B4UTRUST]

Slipstream glanced down at Hornet then back at Wheeljack.
"I get the prototype bit, that I can understand. But children? Is he suppose to be that small? Was there a problem with the manufacturing systems on this planet that prevented you from making him larger? I ask because it just seems to strike me a bit odd if you actually purposely made him so small. That can't be good for him in the middle of this war."

[General Havoc]

"No," said Wheeljack, clearly having explained this more than once in the past. "There were no manufacturing concerns or physical constraints I was operating under that forced me to make him this size. I did indeed purposefully construct him this way."

He set Hornet down atop a diagnostic bench. "The purpose was to replicate the processes that biological species undergo with their children, only in a mechanical being. Not even the humans fully understand what the process is for them. If I can replicate that process psychologically in a Transformer, it could mean a complete revolution in Transformer engineering. But since the process isn't perfectly understood, I decided it was best to replicate every aspect as accurately as I could. Human children interact with a world designed for people larger than them, and people see them as small and defenceless. I couldn't take the risk that the perspective would turn out to be important, so I replicated it as best I could."

Hornet stopped humming long enough to smile and wave at Slipstream.

"As to the war, science and research does not come to a grinding halt just because some damned pit fighter decides it's time to go to war. I admit... it's something of a disadvantage in combat, but I stand by my decision in that regard. I did not become an engineer merely to construct the biggest weapons around. I refuse to make everything I do conform to the standard that it be able to destroy entire cities."

[B4UTRUST]

Slipstream was about as surprised as a 'bot could get. They let Hornet out into combat? Pits, they let the teenybot out of the Ark?! Primus, what were they thinking? Rumble could destroy this 'bot!
"How often does he actually go into combat? And do these human children likewise get pushed into combat at an early age? Are they given weapons and low grade armor and sent to fight the human adults? You're replicating their growth phases so I must assume they do, which is most disconcerting and indicates a complete lack of desire to continue the species...

"It confuses me to say the least. And I certainlly would not wish to be Hornet's mechanic, as I cannot even begin to imagine the amount of repairs he must undergo."

[General Havoc]

Wheeljack shook his head once again. "The humans have hundreds of different cultures and societies scattered over this planet. By and large they do not send children into combat, but there are... exceptions."

Hornet stopped humming, sensing that the conversation was begining to take on a different undercurrent.

"I did not construct Hornet with combat in mind," he said mildly more defensively, "and repairs to him are rather time consuming, but if he finds it necessary to assist the others in combat, then I will not prevent him from doing so. Nobody is 'pushing' him into anything. Neither Prime nor Ironhide nor any other would order him to participate in a fight, nor have they ever had to. Hornet is well aware of his own limitations, and has done exceptionally well for himself given them."

Hornet smiled at Wheeljack. "I got three air-to-air assists last time!" he chirped at Slipstream, still a bit proud of having helped take down full-sized seekers.

[B4UTRUST]

Slipstream wanted to stammer out a protest, that somehow this was still horribly horribly wrong. He just shook his head, still very much confused on why Wheeljack would do this. Right now, in his central processor Wheeljack was sitting dangerously close to that fine line that seperated the 'bots from the 'cons. The bot had obviously slipped a few cogs. With creations like this, Wheeljack was surely more suited for a Decepticon Chop-shop then an Autobot facility. This was madness. Just by looking at Hornet it was painfully obvious that the bot would be a huge liability in combat.

"Good for you, Hornet," he muttered half-heartedly. This whole matter was puzzling and a bit frightening. But he wasn't in charge, he didn't have the rank or clout to even begin to question these actions to someone like Ironhide or Prowl, much less Prime. And the fact that Prime had obviously signed off on this bothered him still more. What in the Pits had he missed since the battle of Kalis? What had the Autobots become?

His optics dimmed slightly as he tried to puzzle his way through this. But he kept coming back to conclusions that he didn't want to face. This was just unconscionable. Primus....

[General Havoc]

Wheeljack was no fool, whatever else he was, and his optics narrowed as he watched Slipstream's reaction. "You... disapprove?" he said, clearly used to this sort of reaction.

[LadyTevar]

Stryke looked at Crimson. "It could be." He said. The warbot shrugged. "I think it would be more likely that he would hit a large city, wipe out everyone there and in the chaos, hit our energy production."

"Great. That's just something he'd do, isn't it," Crimson sighed. "Plans within plans, gears inside gears. How does he function with processors that twisted, anyway..."

She walked over and turned the monitor over to computer functions, bringing up a map of Earth focused on the Canadian/Alaskan area. The response was a few astroseconds slow, obviously she wasn't the only one to access this information. "So what do we have? Fort Maximal is here." The holomap glowed where she touched. "The Canadian cities of Edmonton, Calgary, and the Vancouver/Seattle area are the largest population centers near Fort Maximal. There is also Juneau, in Alaska, which is a major center for that state." She touched the holoscreen with each city named, lighting it up.

"And just so you understand why I'm worried about the pipeline ...." A red line traced itself from the top of the area marked 'Alaska' all the way to the bottom.

[Charon]

Shellshock smiled grimly to Crimson's rhetorical question as to Shockwave's processor. "All too efficiently I'm afraid..."

Then the old warbot listened to her theories.

"The biggest attack is likely to come from Fort Maximal. Everything around here is non-front territory really. Europe is already divided in two. Asia is almost entirely compromised. Africa is theres. The attacks are going to be focused on the Americas and Australia." Shellshock looked at the oil pipeline and shook his head. "I can understand why you're worried Crimson. But we can't afford to do anything other than rebuild it after the fight. It would take too much of our manpower to effectively cover that much territory, leaving far more important possible targets exposed."

[Cynical Cat]

"The Pipe Line is not an important target," said Deathstrike. "Control over it will be long term goal, but taking it out won't do enough damage. Think. Shockwave knows no one is going to surrender to his demands. He's announcing a Decepticon offensive. He has to follow through with a victory that will impress his fellow Decepticons or his term as leader will be very short.

"Taking out a pipeline won't be enough. It won't knock the Autobots out of the war or the humans. It will just diminish oil supplies to the human economies, but not in a manner that will be crippling. It would simply be repaired. Causing some hardship to the humans will mean nothing to the Decepticons. He has to drop the hammer or his followers will be lining up behind Starscream."

[B4UTRUST]

"Do I disapprove? Yes, I disapprove! What you've done is something I would expect of Trauma or one of the other sadistic goons Megatron keeps on hand. You've taken an under developed life, given it what appears to be almost negligable armor and almost assuredly, equally weak weapons and sent him out to play! You let him purposely enter himself into situations where not only could he get injured, he could be killed outright!

"Whats worse is that the situations you allow him to get thrown into is not against other similarly equipped cybertronians but against full blown Decepticons who have been alive and fighting in a war that's been going on longer then there has been life on this Primus forsaken planet! This entire thing is unconscionable to say the least and monsterous at best! And you act like this is a grand glorious scientific experiment! What in the Pits do you plan to do when Hornet's spark is extinguished? Build another one?! Or just chalk it up to a mistake and take it back to the drawing board? You've taken the youngest versions of life that exists on this planet, tossed it into a weakened, frail and slight Cybertronian frame and put it in a situation where it'll be part of an interplanetary war! Do I disapprove... Primus, not only do I disapprove I'm suggesting that you're a sadistic maligned mad scientist who's done a horrible, unimaginable thing! Right now, Wheeljack, you disgust me..."

Slipstream turned and began walking out of the room.

[General Havoc]

Wheeljack had already known what was likely to come from his question, even if he didn't know how virulent Slipstream's reply would be. Hornet sat in quiet, dumbfounded shock as Slipstream spewed forth vitriol and anger, railing against Wheeljack's inhumane and practically viscious cruelty in having created him in the first place. Tears welled up in his optics as he heard Wheeljack described thus, and himself described as a useless ornament, a painfully weak waste of ressources and materials, everything Ironhide had ever said or muttered about him wrapped up into a single angry accusation.

Wheeljack however stood unmoved by the anger, and as Slipstream turned to go, he turned his head to Hornet and shook it slowly with a sad sigh.

"How soon we forget..."

Wheeljack set down his sonic microadjuster, and turned back to Slipstream.

"How soon we forget, Slipstream, what the entire point of this war is. How soon we forget what the difference really is between an Autobot and a Decepticon. Primus knows you're hardly the first to have these reservations. But I ask you, which one of us comits the greater crime? The one who creates an Autobot, or the one who would have it that the Autobot was never made, because of centimeters of armor and gigawats of laser-power. Nevermind who Hornet is, nevermind speaking with him, listening to him, talking to him. In five minutes, you declare him a disgrace to the Autobots, why? Because his weapons are inadequate? Because his combat potential does not equal some damned equation you have invented and imbued with moral sacrosanctity? And I am the architect of wicked and evil things, because instead of creating a weapon of destruction, instead of building a machine dedicated first and foremost to the pursuit of war, I have created something else? Because my priorities were elsewhere than war and devestation, I am Trauma? I am Megatron? I am a Decepticon?"

Wheeljack shook his head, the lights on the side of his face flashing as he spoke. "How soon we forget..."

"What would you prefer, Slipstream?" he asked, advancing towards the Autobot flier. "Perhaps I should restrict myself only to the production of real war machines? Combiners maybe? Gestaults? There's a war on after all! In fact, it would probably be more efficient if I just dispensed with a spark in them! Slave drones say, just enough sentience to act in battle? That would be more efficient at fighting the Decepticons, and thus more moral, correct? After all, what is the POSSIBLE USE for creating something that isn't dedicated as its sole purpose to fighting this infernal, endless war? Who cares for who people ARE, what's important is how many GUNS they've got, right? Weaklings like Hornet, and Crimson, and Bumblebee, and Hound... what's the POINT to having them around? They're useless, after all, and in fact, it's IMMORAL for them to even exist, because they're at such risk whenever they deploy against a full-scale Decepticon war-force. They're at such risk from the Decepticons that it's COMPLETELY IMMORAL for them to be here, alive! Too much risk that they be caught by the Decepticons and hurt or tortured or put in pain! Too much risk that they might be made to suffer! We should ensure that they can't suffer at all! For their own good! For their OWN GOOD! BANG!"

As he shouted that last word, Wheeljack turned around and pointed a finger straight at Hornet. Obviously no shot came forth, but Hornet still cried out and jumped and hudled up in a ball, as though he had half-expected to actually be shot. Wheeljack lowered his hand and let out a long slow sigh.

"How soon we forget..."

Slowly, Wheeljack walked over to Hornet, and gently lifted him up with one arm once again. Hornet, who had only barely been able to follow the conversation, latched onto Wheeljack's arm and cast furtive glances at Slipshot as Wheeljack finished his speach.

"When my time comes, Slipstream, it may be that Primus himself agrees with you, and I will be found accountable for having built Hornet and inflicted the miseries of the world upon him. But I would rather take that risk than have to stand before Primus and tell him that I wanted to create a new type of life, a new Autobot unlike anything that had ever been seen before, but didn't, because I was too afraid of what the Decepticons might do if I built something that wasn't armored like a battle tank. I do worry about Hornet. I do wish he didn't insist on accompanying the others to the front lines, but I won't lock him in a stasis chamber and only let him out on judgment day, and I am not so terrified of what might become of Hornet that I refused to build him in the first place, and if you think that makes me a Decepticon, then I have nothing more to say to you. Things must have changed on Cybertron since last I was there Slipstream, because what I remember of the Autobots was that we were fighting precisely so that there could be bots like Hornet, and beings like the humans, and things in the universe that weren't measured solely by their capacity to kill."

He glanced at Hornet once more, then finished.

"A couple months ago," he said, "Hornet here got into a scrap with some of Soundwave's little helpers. Buzzsaw I think it was. Hornet was on overwatch flying above a position, and Buzzsaw jumped him from below. He outmaneuvered him, and hit Buzzsaw with an ATA missile, not enough to kill of course, but enough to knock the casette right out of the air. Hornet here actually thought for a while that he had killed Buzzsaw, and that afternoon, when I saw him, he was so torn up by the fact that he had potentially killed another Transformer, even one that one to kill HIM, that he swore to Shellshock and myself and half a dozen others that he would never kill a Decepticon if he could find any other way to do it."

"Now, if I was a Decepticon," said Wheeljack, "I expect I would have pulled the plug on him right then and there. After all, that makes him weak, doesn't it? If he refuses to kill, or kill without exploring other options, that gets in the way of him being an efficient, effective fighting machine. Just like his lack of armor, just like his paltry weaponry, that hesitation interferes with him being a war machine. I don't know many Decepticons, Slipstream, but I suspect that they don't put up with that sort of thing. So if you're going to stand there and tell me that the only value to an Autobot is the number of 'kills' he can make, and the prospects he has at facing down a Decepticon monstrocity like Predaking or Menasor, or just how much firepower he can deliver to his opponents, and that everything that gets in the way of that is downright immoral to even consider building or programming or permitting to exist...?"

He shook his head and stared at the newcomer, "Well Slipstream... I don't think think I'm the one in this room that needs to worry about being a Decepticon."

[Cynical Cat]

Deathstrike's audio receptors couldn't help but take note of the screaming argument eminating from Wheeljack's workshop. Filtering and data reprocessing game him 97% confidence in the content of 77% of the conversation. Hornet. Again.

The existence of the little 'bot annoyed the big Decepticon, but he needed Wheeljack to reobtain his full potential. As much as he disliked it, countering Shockwave would require every scout they could and Wheeljack's technical skills to counter whatever Shockwave was going to unleash. This fight was unproductive.

"Excuse me for a moment," he said and walked rapidly to Wheeljack's laboratory. Wheeljack, Hornet, and the Autobot who was probably called Slipstream was there.

"We have less than forty-eight Earth hours before the Decepticon master strategist makes his move against us and our allies. Time is not a luxury we have to waste on non productive arguments on which of you is more like a Decepticon. After this crisis is over, I will be overjoyed to consider your arguments and decides which of you is more deserving of being called a Decepticon."

[B4UTRUST]

"You're fragging me... So now he doesn't even have self-preservation instincts? Kill or be killed? Are you serious? You have created a microbot 'child' and not even instilled in it the most basic of instincts that exist in every species encountered! He swears not to kill, not even to save himself. Yes, that's great, that's a laudable quality at any time, except I don't know, in a war when him and his buddies are going to die if he doesn't!

"How soon we forget? Please, spare me your rhetoric. You're little more then a sadist. You're right, you're not a 'con. That was an exaduration, but you're certainly no hero. Yes, you created a new form of Cybertronian life, congradulations. Now deal with the fact that your creation probably won't survive through the end of the war.

"You're not despicable for building and designing Hornet, you're despicable for allowing him to exit production so ill-equipped to survive! You claim to care for him then why not give him some Primus-damned size and armor!? Primus, I ran into him in the hallway and bowled him over when I was WALKING! A strong wind could knock him over!

That's why I look down at you right now and say you're like Trauma. You seem to delight in the new experiances he has, but they all probably come from him being put into a situation where he's getting injured or watching his friends get hu-"

Slipstream's rant was cut very short as another Cybertronian walked into the room. Deathstrike. He stared hard at the former Decepticon, trying to place him.
"I know you. Who are you?"

[Cynical Cat]

"I am Deathstrike," the big Cybertronian replied. "Once I served Megatron, now I serve Prime. Shockwave is up to something and he now has command of the entire Decepticon army. This conversation can wait for another time."

[B4UTRUST]

"Deathstrike... the name is familer, but I cannot seem to fully place you. Another hole I'll have to patch. So you use to be a Decepticon. I wonder how many more little surprises I'm going to get today.

"So old one-eye is on this planet and he's in charge. What happened to Megatron? Starscream finally usurp the throne and off him?"

[General Havoc]

Hornet was silent, stunned to quiet by the anger that was directed at Wheeljack on his behalf. He had seen arguments like this before, he knew Ironhide considered him worthless, that there were others who questioned Wheeljack's sanity for having created him, but he had never heard ANYTHING like this before, and he might have cried or hid or slunk quietly out the door. He could do no such thing. His spark was in shock, his processor scrambling to make sense of everything. He stood like a dead thing in the middle of the room, shock written all over his face. He couldn't reply to the accusations. He couldn't even get his speaker to work.

But Wheeljack could.

The Autobot engineer had made no sign of acknowledgement as Deathstrike arrived. He stood motionless, his optics staring into Slipstream. It was not until several moments had passed that Wheeljack spoke, and when he did, there was a roiling, bitter anger in his words.

"How dare you..."

Like a pebble touching off an avalanche, Wheeljack's first statement was soft and quiet. The words that followed were anything but.

"How dare you", said Wheeljack, his speaker vibrating with the anger that coursed through his words. "How dare you stand there and lecture me on my morality when you are advocating nothing short of euthenasia!!! How dare you barge into this workshop and accuse me of such crimes in regards to an Autobot you never bothered to meet, speak to, or understand, and then have the BALD-FACED TEMERITY to tell me to spare you my rhetoric?! What gives you that right?! What gives you the right to judge me or Hornet?!"

Wheeljack ignored all else, caring nothing for what the Decepticon might think of his outburst, as he poured scorn and anger onto Slipstream, screaming at the top of his speaker, without a care in the world as to who might overhear him.

"You object to his morality?! Are you so ignorant of what a Transformer is that you think I PROGRAMMED him to be this way?! That he is nothing more than a construct who repeats pre-selected phrases?! He is a living, evolving, organism, and if he chooses that killing is an act of depravity beyond him, then it is because HE CHOSE IT, not me, not you, not anyone else. And I would sooner have that thought imprinted on every Autobot alive than tear it from his spark because YOU FOUND IT INCONVENIANT THAT HE POSESS A CONSCIENCE!"

"What do you know about the process of creating an Autobot, Slipstream?!" He spat out the Autobot's name as though it were a foul-tasting liquid. "NOTHING! You know NOTHING of creation! All you know, all you care about is how to destroy! How to lay waste and kill and think yourselves full of honor and glory for it. To the PITS with you and your diseased priorities! I show you an Autobot, one who has fought and found it to his revulsion and hatred, and all you can parrot back to me is your whining, self-serving accusations of evil and treason WHY?! Lack of armaments?! Lack of battle sense?! Lack of bloodlust! All you see is a combat liability! All you can think of is how many missiles and lasers he sports! All you are concerned with is how he can help you to cause more death, and if he refuses to indulge in your quest for more blood, then WHAT USE IS HE?!"

Wheeljack stomped forward and pointed a finger at Slipstream.

"Well I have NEWS for you, Slipstream. I don't give a damn if you think the devil incarnate, but I would rather have created Hornet, JUST AS HE IS, than TEN THOUSAND war-waging monstrocities of your like! Hornet may well turn out to be the most important creation in the history of our species, but you will not see that! You will not listen to RHETORIC, NO! All you care for is kill boards and ordinance, and an Autobot that cannot or will not kill to your liking is not even worthy of your consideration! You make me SICK with your pious moralizing, condemning those who would NOT dedicate their every waking moment to the waging of war. Go and fight the Decepticons until you turn blue in the face. I will neither apologize for creating Hornet, nor tolerate those who CANNOT SEE BEYOND THEIR OWN PRIMUS-DAMNED KILL TALLIES!!! Hornet CHOSE to abstain from killing, and in doing so proved himself GREATER than the Decepticons, GREATER than me, and FAR FAR GREATER than you could ever hope to be. You are a defective, blood-sated, lunatic, but worse yet, you actually the gall to come down to this planet and in TEN MINUTES, begin questioning my morals! TO THE PITS WITH YOU!!!!"

Wheeljack stomped over to the side of the door, where a large red button was mounted.

"I will never apologize for creating Hornet PRECISELY AS HE IS! And if his existance inconveniances you, then you may go and shove your blood-soaked moralizing straight up your accursed tailpipe! Now GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WORKSHOP!"

And with that, Wheeljack slammed on the red button, causing a pair of heavy blast doors to slam shut with a thunderous crash, locking both Slipstream and Deathstrike out of the workshop in question.

[LadyTevar]

When WheelJack's screaming tirade started, Crimson turned and stared down the hallway. She couldn't have been the only one shocked to hear WheelJack shouting; his voice echoed down the halls of the Ark, causing heads to pop out of various rooms.

The slamming of the blastdoor made Crimson jump and wonder if WheelJack caught this 'Slipstream' in the middle. She also had to wonder if that was where DeathStrike went. As the hallway stopped reverberating, Crimson turned back to look at the Convoy.

"Somehow, I think this 'SlipStream' just got moved to the top of the Dirty Jobs list."

[Dark Silver]

It was several hours after Shockwave's ultimatum, before Optimus returned to the Ark from New York City. Fifteen minutes later, he was in conference with every senior Autobot officer on the planet, and - thanks to the power of TELETRAN-1 - some of those still on Cybertron.

News reports flooded in, in the time since Shockwave's transmission, the fighting in Siberia had ceased, Decepticon raids had stopped even hours prior. It was as if every Transformer on the planet was in wait.

The Autobot commander was in the meeting for almost a hour, before he laid out his orders. It was painfully obvious what needed to be done.

Klaxons and sirens bellowed throughout the Ark, calling all within the Autobot base to the massive conference room built in one of the annexes.

----- o ----- o -----

As the Autobots filed into the conference hall, they would see various news feeds on the monitors, different human news stations giving up to the minute reports. Human leaders were being interviews, other spokepeople argued about what would come, what to do. The ever lovely Isolde Holden looked haggered - her black hair lank - as she reported on a emergency session of the United Nations Security Council.

Prime stood in the center of the raked seats, where all the Autobots could see him, and he waited.


----- o ----- o -----

Shockwave stood infront of the monitor, his single optic fixated upon the images and readouts.

"Report Soundwave," he spoke not taking his attention from the readouts. Everything was nearly in preperation.

"Protoform production has been increased to your specifications. Bombshell reports the brood is nearly complete."

"Excellent, and what of Chimera and Blackout?"

"They are awaiting further instructions."

"Excellent. It is clear why Megatron placed you as his second in command Soundwave. Begin the upload, format the protoforms to my exact specifications. They must be ready in six decacycles."

'Understood."

[Charon]

Shellshock had glanced at Deathstrike and Slipstream as the doors slammed closed. "He's right you know. And that's coming from me."

The old warbot then continued down the hall, coming up with plans.

---------------

Shellshock did not take a seat at the conferance, he stood in the back of the hall, watching Prime carefully while a dozen different plans ran through his circuits, trying to decide which one Prime may choose as his course of action.

[Agent Fisher]

Stryke passed Shellshock, nodding at him. He took a seat and looked around for Crimson. He didn't spot her at first and then settled down, waiting for Prime to start talking. He figured the meeting was going to be about the threat that Shockwave had put out.

[LadyTevar]

"You could have waited up for me," Crimson scolded Stryke, her voice low as she slipped into the seat he saved for her. Made for a larger bot, the seat left her feet dangling. "I feel like Hornet..," she griped, trying to get comfortable. "I'd be better off sitting in your lap."

She was followed by Overload, who took a quick glance around and then stepped to ShellShock's side, leaning against the wall quietly.