Thunderdrum - Decepticon Transport Ship

[generalbri]

The reaction from Fauxwing was just the same as the previous officers that have had the privilege of viewing the massive super spark. It was still enjoyable to watch.

Once she looked to him, the mech bowed, giving a smile again. "I am Thunderdrum.. metrotitan for the Decepticon cause. An honor.." His optics brightened a more smoldering red, "..to be under your leadership, Commander." Giving this line, it usually helped ease the other to cooperate with him more, allowing him to be less leashed.

"I do hope this explains a little bit more, but there will be much to discuss and show. I also do not want to give you a processor ache." Thunderdrum looked to the spark, then turned and started closing the floor again. With a flick of his servo, the quadruped beckoned her to follow. "Now to the lounge."

[Corvid]

Stunned silence was her only response, leaving Thunderdrum in a very much one-sided conversation. He'd expected as much.

When the mech beckoned her to join him at the lounge, she silently followed. This revelation had caught her completely unawares.

Trailing behind at a distance, Fauxwing repeated the phrase to herself in a whisper, scarcely loud enough for Thunderdrum to hear.

_{"Metrotitan."}

[generalbri]

Thunderdrum led her to the lounge in silence, letting her process this news first and waiting for her to say anything first. They reached the lounge after going down the hallway. Once they entered, they would notice a few crew members chatting among themselves with high grade cubes in their servos. They heard the tapping of their captain's pedes and quickly looked.

The mech merely gave a flick of his servo, commanding them to leave. All of them nodded and rose, quietly exiting to leave Fauxwing and Thunderdrum to have the lounge themselves.

He offered her the couch nearby then moved over to the empty bar to collect some cubes, bringing them over and setting one in front of her. He sat opposite of her on the other couch, his back legs folding up to press to his back so he could properly sit. The mech held his cube, watching her and waited. For her to speak first so then he could take a sip of the high grade.

[Corvid]

A hand of clawed digits clasped the cube offered to her. A pensive expression on her at-rest face. She sat on the couch, but by no means looked like she was relaxing. Understandably hard, given what she's just seen. A few moments went by in contemplative silence before she finally spoke.

"High command sent me a Metrotitan." Her voice's strength had returned. She sounded almost normal. "You said you can control them. That the ship, it- he- can control them. So, which is it?"

[generalbri]

Now he took a sip.

“I control them. They are almost like parasites, but they obey and protect their host.” He leaned forward slightly as two tendrils lowered from the ceiling. Red optics watched her just as a tendril messed with his back. With a loud click, the mech suddenly offlined, his frame being caught by the other tendrils length; she could see his optics suddenly go gray, his expression stiffening, and his frame changed in tint to a more grayer shade of purple.

Within moments, the tendril at his back brought up a device that had lights on it that blinked green. The other tendril, out of her view, connected into the back of the mech. And it’s as if the process reversed. Optics online and the frame turned purple again and he sat up again. The tendril places the device in his open servo and Thunderdrum raised it to her view. “This is a battery. You want to guess what you are talking to then?” He smiled.

[Corvid]

Watching, the mech before her drained of life and color. She knew the sight well. Then, a less familiar occurrence caught her by surprise; he came back. After leaving her with a question, she intently considered the question posed to her. Not "who." "What." A furrowed brow questioned the mech while Fauxwing scrutinized Thunderdrum up and down. Her expressionless composure suggested that she had rallied herself now. It betrayed little of her thought process, and when she spoke, she spoke with confidence.

"I see." Digits tapped thoughtfully on her cube. "If a parlor trick, a clever one," she said. "I won't dare test the strength of this... drone? Toy? Whatever." A dismissive flick of the wrist. The proper term didn't matter to her. Eyes flicked from Thunderdrum's frame to the tendrils in the ceiling, then from one side of the room to the other. Even though the mech before her was functional again after apparently dying, this revelation had led Fauxwing to begin addressing the entire ship around her. Speaking to the Metrotitan, rather than his delegate.
"I presume he is automated." She took him to be a drone of some sort, perhaps even similar in nature to others that had been made for the war, on both sides. The obvious difference in this case being that what was a tool that fit in the titan's palm appeared to be a formidably sized peer to all others.

[generalbri]

“Attachment. That’s what I call these remote controlled bodies. They are a direct connection to my processor. The ship’s processor. Even though I am referencing myself, I do still continue to call my Titan frame the ship so I do not accidentally blunder on words.”

He noticed her looking around, “please make sure you talk to an attachment. I don’t need others pondering why you are addressing a wall or ignoring your captain.” The mech chuckled and gave a sip again, looking at the battery in his servo before setting it on the table.

“I use these attachments to be as normal as I can be in the sight of others. Perform duties, command, and not raise suspicions in a world that has metrotitans nearly extinct.” A frown now formed, “I do hope you keep your word. If others in your colony find out and they whisper about it, it will be picked up by our enemies faster than me merely transforming in front of them.”

A pause, “And I mean the ship transforming. I only transform now when raiding outposts and excavating energon from a planet.” Then a grin, “I’ll make sure you are around when that happens.”

[Corvid]

"No." Speak to the "attachment"? Fauxwing wasn't having it. She didn't like it, and a fake smile- flashing for just a moment across her features- looking more like frown, twisted in distaste, told him as much. The "attachment" might as well not have existed; she continued to speak to the ship defiantly. She did, however, notice the frown on Thunderdrum's attachment in her peripheral vision.

She knew the reasoning behind him ushering her to speak with his guise. It was obvious he wanted to take every precaution: her falling into the habit of speaking to him directly could one day lead her to slip up.

Fauxwing didn't care.

She was perfectly content to make him sweat it out.

She shifted on the couch, crossing a leg and draping her arm over the armrest beside her, cube held loosely enough in her hand it looked to fall any moment. She looked relaxed- like she was making herself at home. Thunderdrum would recognize this defiance- in both word, and posture- to be Fauxwing exercising her authority, daring him to step out of line and challenge her. It was as risky as it got, not the least because she was now, quite literally, in the 'belly of the beast.' But Thunderdrum would recognize, too, that she wasn't attempting to hide what this was. He knew it was a risk, she knew it was a risk; and he knew that she knew. Total transparency.

"You cleared the room for a reason. You asked for equal exchange, and in private, this is what that looks like," she said. The last thing she would do is talk to the Metrotitan's toy like she, herself, was nothing more than a tool to him; no, only so long as it would maintain the ruse in front of others that the attachment was in charge of this vessel. Though, if nothing else, it was clear that she was taking Thunderdrum's "equal" exchange more seriously now. She gave him no reason to believe that she would hold any of his requests back from him.

Lounging even further, she hung her other elbow over the back of the couch. Her body language wide, and open. For someone usually so uptight, it looked effortlessly natural on her. A slight smile took over the fake one from before, this one genuine; a smirk to match his attachment's grin. Her "colony," as he had so eloquently put it, was filled with spies and infiltrators. Under her instruction and the constant scrutiny that their functions afforded them, granted, but nonetheless dangerous. Surely command had informed him of this; likely another reason for his insistence on receiving reports of all activity in the region.

"You wish to avoid raising suspicion. That's fine." It would have been redundant to reassure him that her word was trustworthy, and she wouldn't have felt the need to even if it hadn't been. He'd learn that for himself soon enough. "I..." *a long sip of energon, finally locking eyes with the attachment-* "look forward to it."

[generalbri]

The replies annoyed him, that’s for sure. He squinted slightly, frowning. Thunderdrum did try to play it off, giving a shrug. “I guess if you want to look crazy addressing the ceiling, then by all means, go ahead. It’ll be interesting to watch. The first, too.”

A click overhead could barely be heard and without warning, one of the tendrils fell next to her, making the couch shake. It reared up and now she heard the metrotitan talk through it. “Mmm, doesn’t hurt having this change of pace.” And without warning, the tendril flops on her lap, it’s length wrapping around her loosely to attempt to make her uncomfortable. And the tendril started vibrating too, almost like a cyberkitty purring.

The metrotitan was curious how far he could go. What would she do? It’s not like she could shoot him dead. The attachment sipped his drink, relaxing back and ignored his new commander now.

[Corvid]

She wouldn't hide her distaste of these tendrils, a look of disgust as she daintily attempted to pluck the thing from her midsection with two fingers. Finding its coil too tight, she instead closed her entire grasp around it to wrest it from her. Once off, she stood from the couch, eyeing the attachment. Eyeing Thunderdrum.

"As enjoyable as this meeting has been, there are other things that require my attention. Airburst will be informed of your needs, and contact you accordingly. And... I'll be in touch."

All too pleased with herself, Fauxwing stood at the door, pausing expectantly. A couple of Thunderdrum's crew walked the halls, giving the stranger a passing glance.

"If you would be so kind as to lead me out of your ship, Thunderdrum," she requested, looking back at Thunderdrum. He would immediately be aware of her discretion, speaking only to the attachment in the presence of others. Waiting for him to lead, she would exit the room, and start down the hallway.

[generalbri]

Instead of seeing a gimance from the attachment, the tendril instead whined at first before it was suddenly squeezed tightly and pulled off. A automatic hiss escaping it before it quieted and pulled back and hid away into the ceiling. The attachment vented before rising up as well, stretching his back legs and setting his drink down.

“Yes, Commander. Do visit again when you happen to have the time.” He followed her to the door, gesturing her to go right then led her to the exit ramp. Thunderdrum had noticed the behavior, understanding further that this wasn’t going to be any simple collaboration.

Once they reached the exit hanger, he bowed to her then turned to enter back into the ship, leaving her to her own devices. He opened up a comm to one of his crew members, ::Ripwave. Have a moment to meet in Lounge 105B?:: Thunderdrum headed back to the lounge he was just in, to clean up the mess.

[ripwave]

::Of course.::

"When'm I not?" The pedeclicks of a miniscule mech drifted from the threshold shortly after being summoned. That always bode poorly. Ripwave was a notoriously inquisitive minicon. Or intrusive, depending on who you asked. Unabashed as he was about his 'function', he was indifferent to how he was labeled. Both were correct, and it was unlikely that he would begin to change his habits now. Especially not when the conversations going on behind closed doors were just so tempting.

To his credit, he was respectful enough to stay out of said rooms behind said closed rooms today. "That was tense!" Ripwave chirped, not at all sounding as if he was bothered by his observation. Wide yellow-orange optics focused on Thunderdrum before his rotors folded out and spun to life, launching himself up onto the table his commander had been cleaning up. "I don't think've seen such a swing-mood shift like that since the time Bolt thought'e was going in for a promotion."

Ripwave stood straight, arms akimbo. Even with the table as his perch, the minicon barely made it up to his commander's shoulder struts. "How'd it go?"

[generalbri]

The attachment looked over, smiling and shaking his helm. Thunderdrum had to order Ripwave to stay back this time. He didn’t need to make meeting his new commander more on edge.

Their new commander.

The purple mech sighed, shaking his helm as he gathered the empty cubes, except to finish drinking his. Nothing goes to waste.

“It was.. not what I wanted. I swear.. I can’t wait to not be ordered around to these posts. I can’t get on even ground with these commanders.” Now he growled, pausing to straighten and take a pause mentally. A deep frown visible on his faceplates. “Anyway.. she knows.. I need to ask for your help on keeping a extra eye and audial on conversations.” Thunder looked over to Ripwave. Deep down, the smaller scout had been a valuable asset to the crew that Thunderdrum was grateful for. They had been through more than the majority of the crew.

[ripwave]

All four of Ripwave's antenna tweaked and twitched independent of each other. For a mech without a free-hinged jaw, the way he scoured for something in another Cybertronian was incredibly obvious. At least when he was allowed to be. His head cocked to the side, optics following his commander's movements while he emptied his drink and proceeded to relay is request. Then all movement stopped... for about half a nano-klik.

A burst of static akin to a bark of laughter erupted from his vocalizer. "Oh! Slag, you don't need to ask me to eavesdrop, Thunder. I do that on a cycle's-basis." He continued to snigger before shaking the amusement from his frame and offering as much respect as to dip his helm. Time may have unwound the minicon's coiled nerves, but he would take the opportunity regardless to properly acknowledge his superior's orders. "Consider it done, of course. Were you able to ascertain how much open access we have to poke around the moon base?"

[generalbri]

Picking up the empty cubes, he moved to walk by Ripwave and stick his glossa out at him before moving on to the bar to properly put away the cubes. “I would prefer you only report to me certain details. If any rumors of a metrotitan come up. I am worried she may chatter amongst her crew. If I find that out.. we will leave. We’ll see.”

He finished cleaning the cubes, putting them away, then moved back to Ripwave, crossing his arms. “Nothing yet.. waiting on orders.” He grumbled, “I need to fuel up sooner than later too. The only information I have is the moon base was attacked. Told the commander I can help.” Thunderdrum then hummed, “would like the opportunity to solve it and to take some fuel.”

“So at this time, it’s a waiting game. I guess we could go explore the platform. Or I might later.” The purple mech tilted back on his legs. The idea of just sitting around didn’t fancy him.