[Leva III] Primarius Spaceport

[Nayeli]

Giving him a side eye, the femme snickered softly, ”How unfortunate.” She murmured to herself under her breath, before hiking up her wings, ”Hm. Might as well. I come from Athenia originally, from those of richer status that have settled on the planet. Left due to a broken home and landed where others had. I was more or less born during the first few stellar cycles of the scrap-fest and decided that I wanted to live fo myself rather than a side. I found this group and quickly began climbing the ranks, being a Listner sure ain’t a bad way to officially give your life a start.” Nayeli’s expression changed for a moment, from her normally cold and snobby self to utter disgust and hate before it quickly shifted back, ”We ain’t so completely different as I thought, Peppy.” She crossed her arms, watching as the numbers finally reached 900.

[sarune]

Even after reaching the nine hundredth level, there was no increase in the elevators speed as it continued heading downwards at a pace which would have been unacceptable if either of them were in a rush.  If they had been though Crackdrive would have used one of the express elevators designed with speed in mind that tested the endurance of even the hardiest organics, as it moved at significantly more impressive speeds.  In contrast to them though, the standard elevators also possessed significantly less security with a much more lax policy on what could be done within them.  A perfect location for a sensitive conversation as Crackdrive activated the jammers located in his left thigh.

"Let's not pretend, we're anything alike.  The only similarity worthwhile is we both work for Sarune, and that ain't exactly uncommon around here."

With a slouched posture, the mech leaned backwards against the wall of the elevator, as he flicked the dying remains of his Cy-gar at one of the disposal units in the corner which quickly ejected the remnants into some Primus forsaken dump.

"So, your mission here is rather simple, the Dremora Brotherhood attempted to steal from a nearby Decepticon outpost.  No one around here is really sure why it's not exactly the most rational decision when there's more than a few other gangs that are easier.  Personally, I think their leader Quadrex has snapped, he was never the most intelligent but after his Second In Command died their groups been roaming near the edge of infighting.  A lot of them are psychopaths and full of themselves, they wouldn't have been happy picking off of the weakest for long so I think he decided to hit someone big.  Naturally, he failed.  Now we're just waiting for the Decepticon response, which is where you come in.  We want to know why exactly the Dremora struck then we want a report on the Decepticon retaliation.  Focus on the description of their response team, we have a rough idea of who they might send, we want to know if our assumptions are correct."

[Nayeli]

”A mech who doesn’t like me, what do you know. How common.” She snickered, Good. Let’s keep it that way. She studied him closely, narrowing her magenta optics before averting them. She listened quietly, tapping her lip in thought about how she was going to go about this mission,”Should be simple enough. I’m used to dealing with stuck up snobs, considering I am one myself, but overall seems like a mission I did a while back. Wasn’t the most eventful, for my anyways, half were already dead when I had got there so I didn’t get much of a slaughter for myself.” She shifted her trods, straightening her back against the wall. Nayeli looked doen at her hip and padded her weapon, a rather sinister looking whip, ”It’s been a while since I brought Darlin’ out, who knows, maybe we’ll get to work on some bastards during the next few days.” She smiled sheepishly, crossing her arms as looking a little more impatient.

[sarune]

"If things go right, you won't even be fighting.  We'd rather the Decepticons aren't aware we're spying on their operations anymore than is expected.  It's rather detrimental to our relationship if they know we're willing to play against them rather than just being a possibility."

With that said, Crackdrive reached forward towards the elevator, his digits double tapping the number twenty-four.  An action that had the elevator accelerating suddenly as the standard safety protocols in place for more fragile races where disregarded and the mech was forced to grip onto the handrail to keep himself properly rooted to the floor.

"If the Decepticons leave Quadrex alive, try to recover him.  We don't need the full body, the processor should be enough for our mnemosurgeons.  The creepy shits always had a talent for ruining the dead's secrets."

[Nayeli]

"Aw, that's no fun." Nayeli pouted, before grunting and trying to keep her balance when the elevator suddenly took a change of speed. Her orbs pulsed with a quick adrenaline rush before she calmed down, watching the numbers once more.

"Done and done. Hell, I'll make sure to bring just the processor. I don't want to have to drag a whole psychotic fragger all the way back regardless of what shape he's in." She hissed softly at the thought, thinking of so many ways that could go wrong for her. Hearing about the cons however made her feel uneasy for a second, before she shook her helm of the thought. "And when did you want this to go down?"

[sarune]

"We've got two options.  Either we wait till the Decepticons move in and then hope no one catches you in the chaos or we get you in early before scrap goes down."  The mech admitted as he subtly watched the level indicator quickly move down, heading closer and closer to a level where they could depart.  Even at the speed, they were going at, however, the journey would still take a minute or two as the elevator continued downwards.

With that in mind, Crackdrive was more than happy to wait in silence as he continued to hold onto the guide-rail more than aware his balance was hardly the best in this environment.  Soon though even he grew bored of the dull grey walls and the constant grind of gears fighting to keep pushing the metal coffin at full speed.  It was hardly a surprise then when he glanced at his own company and began to speak again.

"It would be easier if we took you to a chop shop for a body mod, how are you about makeovers?"

[Nayeli]

"I believe for witness's sake I shuold be there early to document what I can. Don't you agree?" The femme said, the tips of her digits fizzing with magenta particles for a moment. Then came the question concerning her appearance.

"Well, so long as they don't destroy my current look, simply cover it up, I'd be fine. But I swear if they damage me in any way I'll be pissed." Nayeli hissed through clenched jaws, wings perking and rattling together like a snake.

[sarune]

"It would be helpful if you were early."  He conceded with a sluggish shrug as his frame focused on remaining standing rather than helping himself express his opinion further, not that there would have been much different if the bored tone in his voice suggested anything, just a moment before he continued again.

"We have no idea what information the Decepticons might dispose of if we give them the chance, we'll have so many gaps it'll be impossible to know which ones to look for.  The Demora district isn't exactly the easiest place to blend in, however, so I'd be worried about whether or not you can keep out of sight.  It's better to be a little less well informed than enlightening our current friends to our innate curiosity."  Crackdrive said as the elevator began to slow down, its ridiculous pace no longer necessary after cutting down the distance with only four more floors to go at a significantly slower speed.  After passing another floor, though the mech tapped on the buttons again this time pressing number twenty-five, just one floor above their intended drop off.

"Well, it looks like Sarune's funds for this mission might be getting some use then.  A mech by the name of Wireframe runs a clinic on the twenty-fifth floor, in terms of the legal side you've got all the expected stuff from basic repairs to full body maintenance.  What they don't mention to everyone though is there more than willing to give you a full frame redesign with all the documentation left out, not that we're going to go that far, an attachment order should be fine as long as your spark can hold the load.  Just don't expect to be leaving it looking pretty, I'd be sending you straight to the scrapyard if I did."

Whatever else, Crackdrive intended to say was suddenly interrupted as the mech paused, a new comm message interrupting his conversation with Nayeli as his servo reached upwards to cup his left audio receptor.

"Repeat that again."

The mech grumbled, suddenly much more active as his gravley voice took command.

"No, I'm not deaf, I just need to make sure.  You're certain?"

Without even a thought then Crackdrive tripple tapped the ground floor button, which sent the elevator into a straight drop at breakneck speeds unlike anything that had been experienced beforehand.

"Yeah, keep tabs on them.  Don't get caught."

Lowering his servo from his audio receptor, Crackdrive turned to pin Nayeli with his most serious glare.

"Listen up, cons have been spotted near the planet.  Looks like the chop shop is out of order, we need you in place if we want this operation going smoothly so its time to move."

A second later the elevator came to a stop, its doors opening agonizingly slow in comparison as Crackdrive stepped out the moment he could aware the doors hadn't fully opened but unwilling to wait anyway as he entered the corridor of the rarely visited ground floor.  The lack of rust at such a low level, would have been surprising if he hadn't travelled the path a thousand times aware that while things inside may have been presentable, outside would be another matter once they'd moved a few blocks.  A necessary journey as the nearest elevator to floor fifty-five was still over a mile away...  not far with alternative modes, as Crackdrive transformed, his steel grey frameshifting and twisting until a generic SUV was driving off into the distance.

[Nayeli]

The femme clicked her glossa, "Hmph, am I really that attractive to the point you feel as though you absolutely have to ruin it in fear of falling for it? Pah, don't even bother!" Nayeli waved a servo dismissively, a theatrical look of disdain on her face until the mech got a call. Her spark sent a shot of adrenaline through her body at the word 'Decepticons', Finally, something to do... She thought, a smirk creeping up on her lips. Nayeli pushed herself off the railing and followed closely after him, her wings itching to transform even inside. The femme didn't obey her flier instincts and simply looked around, scowling at the low-maintained area of the slums. It wasn't her speed but work was work, she'll deal with it for now at least. It felt as through the rust was trying to latch onto her wings, and she tucked them neatly back behind her to avoid contact with the occasional visitor or brush against the wall. Relief washed over her once they reached the outdoors and she let her wings be free, transforming and following after the mech.

[Corvid]

    Void of space around the Leva III spaceport was as could be expected from the neutral hub world, active; busy. Ships buzzed around of all shapes and sizes, many Cybertronian, though not all. Business took place as it always had. Some incoming ships were visibly more threadbare than others, some more easily recognizable with various markings belonging to distinguished groups, still others unmarked, intentionally made to be obscure and unidentifiable from the crowd. A crowd of newly arrived ships came out of hyperspace, thin, angular, and state of the art. With the deep purple insignias they wore- as much of a statement as it was a threat- these ships were the most easily recognizable of them all. The Decepticon Initial Response Team was here.

Five massive warships comprised the vanguard of the fleet. Four worn battleships, aged by their time of action in the war took up a diamond formation around a slightly smaller, almost pristine command ship; they were worn, not for years of fighting, but for the intensity and brutality of the few battles they’d fought in. All were surrounded by fleets of smaller fighter craft, clouding together in a tight formation and moving as one as if they were each merely members of the same vaporous body.

[sarune]

Travelling through the streets only the way a native with experience could, Crackdrive took more than a few shortcuts towards the nearest elevator to floor fifty-five.  In the process taking him through a number of sideways, almost all filled with refuse and garbage as the tattered paths quickly covered his SUV form with a coating of slimy residue that dripped off swiftly at the speeds he went.  Although even then by the time he returned to the main roads, he was filthy with more stains than any sensible transformer would bare for long, which fittingly made him match with the environment just that little better as he passed rusted buildings and roads filled with potholes.

It was only his alternative modes preference for off-roading that actually allowed him to reach the elevator in reasonable time as he rapidly transformed, the action sending more than a few pieces of gunk outwards even as others found themselves underneath his armour.  A completely unpleasant experience, the transformer had sadly anticipated as he released a sigh and reminded himself yet again of the pay he was getting out of this relatively simple mission.  Even then it sounded hardly worth going deeper into the cesspit, as he swiftly pushed the fifty-five button the moment Nayeli entered the elevator.

He felt little need to mention the horrible smell that now covered his frame and only further despaired internally the need for his olfactory sensors to smell any potential gasses that could trigger for a nasty explosion at these lower levels.

[Corvid]

“It’s time,” he declared to the gathered group of Decepticons in the bridge of the fleet’s command ship. In the group were Initial Response Team members, among others: scouts from the team, not normally included in these types of operations, and non-Initial Response Team Decepticons. After a look around, he huffed before continuing. He didn’t seem at all satisfied with the group, but then, that might have just been the fatigue. He didn’t seem satisfied with anything right now.

“Alright, we’re doing this quickly. In and out as quickly as possible,” he shouted to the group. And under his breath, _{“Primus knows that spawn of a glitch will have my head for this if you frag things up.} Fauxwing hates when we draw attention to ourselves, but the Demora Brotherhood tried to hit us. Intel came from a reputable source. One of our Decepticon infiltrators on the inside. We can’t afford to just ignore them after a bold move like that, so.”
“The plan is get in, clean them out as quick as we can. Keep Leva III’s options running smoothly. The less impact we make, the better.”

“So, while our main force will be assaulting the brotherhood on floor fifty-five head on according to standard procedure, I’ll be leading an infiltration group. We’ll drop in from above through the ground of floor fifty-four to take their leader out directly.”

“Quadrex, the undying!?” a voice shouted from the crowd. The leader seemed a little annoyed, and didn’t entertain the protestor with a response: everyone knew it was Quadrex, the so-called “undying.” He wasn’t amused, and he didn’t have time for this.

“After that, the infiltration group exits the way we came. The main force is on clean up duty. Any questions? No? Good.” Someone might have spoken up, but if they had tried, he didn’t give them the chance. After finishing with his orders, he clapped his hands and pointed to the doors of the bridge. “Alright everyone, get to it.”



Some time later, drop ships containing the main force left the fleet first, followed by a single ship, smaller, with the infiltration group on board. They passed the Primarius Spaceport, flew down to the large cityscape covering the surface of the moon of Levariah, and began the descent through the impressive multi-floor city, heading to floor fifty-four to stage their assault before commencing with the mission.

[somnibus]

The upper atmosphere of the moon is breached by a spacecraft, and the unholy shrieking of a magneto-inertial fusion drive quiets as the ship rearranges its geometry to engage electrochemical thrusters. The exhaust trail being drawn through the sky shifts from muave to a cooler blue that is easily lost against the backdrop. Vectored just above the horizon, the predatory-shaped craft circles what seems like half a world, treating those below to a distinct engine roar as it streaks by only meters above buildings. A violent flare of the ventral thrusters angles the ship up as it approaches the spire containing the spaceport. It draws into a lazy upwards spiral, orbiting the massive tower for several minutes before swooping in. Red and green running lights blink to life, flashing defiantly against the deck of the platform the ship has decided to settle onto. Such is the speed of its arrival that its nose raises to fire the landing thrusters as well as the reverse engines to arrest its motion. Clawed landing arms slam out of the crafts' underbelly and into the platform, anchoring the hull. 

The starship is mismatched with its surroundings. Though the smooth lines and polished metals of the spaceport might give some impression of being a higher-class area, the recently-arrived ship dispells that notion easily. If not from the clearly-marked and colored warning text over weapon ports and crew hatches, or the over-sized cannons bolted to each wingtip, then the carbon scored paint and off-color armor plating certainly did. Nobody was around to remark on this fact as the occupants disembarked, a handful of robotic forms thunking down the boarding ramp that had extended from the fuselage beneath the cockpit. Two ventured out from beneath the ship, and two stayed behind amidst the venting coolant gases. 

"I don't care if all the planets and stars and scrap in the cosmos align, I don't care if the Guiding Hand themselves were telling you how to fly, I don't ever want to go through re-entry with the fusion drive active again," the tall blue mech was griping, his accent placing him in the vicinity of Hydrax. He shifts the massive briefcases he grips in each servo, careful to avoid striking his companion over the head. Said companion, a seventh the size of the blue mech, rolls his shoulders and replies in a sarcastic burst of binary. 

"Shove your complaints up your waste port, Zero. An astro-class like you, afraid of some flying techniques. You can stop lecturing me about this; I shut it off before we got through the exosphere. None of the animals are going to get horrible radiation poisoning today." The robots recessed lips curl into a scowl, flickering his eyes up to the Cybertronian walking beside him. "How much today? You're sure you've brought all the good stuff?" The mech rolls his optics, faceplate unreadable behind his mouthguard. 

"You checked the cases yourself, frag it. Don't ask questions you know the answer to. ..... I'd say at least three million Shanix, we'll have to see what the conversion rates are in this part of the galaxy. Lot of money in positron weaponry. Can't give you a definite number, though, not until the rest is appraised." He sets the briefcases down and turns back to the other two 'bots, still waiting at the bottom of the ramp. "Relay, give the usual notice on the net. Location, summary of the selection, everything. And let me know if you find any big names in the docking registries so we can see about setting up meetings." The green-and-brown mech already has a datapad in his hand, disappearing back the ship. "Blot, I know you've never been before, so do whatever preperations you think are extreme. It may look nice, but Primarius can get nasty." The other 'bot, a dull orange femme, nods her helm and begins rolling around underneath the ship, inspecting the hulls. Two viciously-efficient looking autoturrets slide out from their recessed hiding spots in the ship as she does so. The blue mech turns back to the minuscule robot beside him and kneels. The glass canopy on his chest pops open. 

"Slag you, Zero. You know I don't enjoy that." 

"Get in, Domo, for the love of the Matrix. The last thing you want to happen is to get picked up off the street on this world." The robot grumbles, but resignedly climbs up the mechs' frame and deposits his gunmetal body inside the open cockpit, which snaps shut behind him. Zero stands carefully, picking up his two cases with a smile in his optics. 

"Hello, Leva III."