ext-torrent

[ext-torrent]

“Could’ve fooled me.” Riella followed without another comment, projecting the general demeanor of a tired research assistant who had other things she’d rather be doing. It wouldn’t be an uncommon sight in a place like this, and as a bonus, it wasn’t far from the truth.

Oh, good. Computers. Not her specialty, but easier than trying to pass for a functionalist in conversation. She checked the hallway casually before following Torrent in, just another bored assistant looking at the clock. “You know they’ve got cameras, right?” she muttered out of the corner of her mouth, stepping out of sight behind a server tower and watching the door warily. “Should’ve handled those first. With any luck, they won’t have noticed, but I hate relying on luck.”

“Even if they do see us, we’ll be in and out before anyone can come reprimand us,” Torrent replied. He hauled himself up to the console proper with little trouble, pacing along the keypad before taking a small cable from his side to plug in to a port just at the side of the screen. His visor glowed a little brighter.

With Riella on look-out, he began the relatively easy process of bypassing the school’s firewalls and security measures to access the records which were just at the surface. Too easy, he thought. The target was on his HUD and as he filtered through profiles of staff, hired tutors, cooks, janitorial staff, alumni, and all other bots on file, he began to notice that not even one mention of a Ruka was within the data. “Huh,” his confusion vocalized as he pilfered deeper into the stored records; Now on to Chairmen, Donors of funds, acclaimed guests who gave lectures...

And just as he was about to start a new avenue of search, the mech’s face appeared on a web banner ticker. The photo was from the opening of the school, mech lined up on either side of the stairs leading up to the front entrance, two shaking hands and other standing in a very formal attention. He squinted at the two faces, overlaying them to be completely sure and when his suspicions were confirmed the text below the article photo made his tanks drop.

“No fraggin’ way- Nuh-Uh, nope, we’re out of here. This is over our heads-!” 

He immediately shut down the connection, faltering as he yanked the cable out. 

“He’s not a teacher, he’s a Senator. Ruka is Manus, a slaggin’ Senator on the Pittforsaken High Council!”

Monkey Wrench

[ext-torrent]

@autobot-scout-riella

“Yeah. I got your back.” Riella kept pace with him easily, maintaining a casual posture even though every sensor was screaming alerts of unfamiliar surroundings and potential threats at her. She ignored most of them, saving only a few alerts as high-threat enough to monitor.

That was a standard reaction in new surroundings. She couldn’t do anything about it, other than be aware and keep the chaos as neatly sorted as possible. At least, after years of practice, it didn’t show on her face.

“I hope you know where you’re going,” she muttered, without looking at him. “Everyone here does. Stand in one place for too long, and you’re going to draw attention.”

“Please,” he chided smoothly, pushing open the door and sauntering inside. “I know how to blend.” 

The back hallways opened up into a foyer with tall arches leading off down to other wings of the Academy, bots of various sizes and loads of datapads hurrying from one place to the next. Torrent scooted along the coat tails of a bigger mech, following them until a room that looked like somewhere they didn’t belong caught his attention. “In here-”

A server room; Tall towers and consoles at marked stations with dimmed lights and a very cool temperature to keep the sensitive data stored perfectly. “... See? I go this.”

Monkey Wrench

[ext-torrent]

@autobot-scout-riella

“I know who we’re looking for.” Riella tucked her arms close to her chest and followed, determinedly crushing any uncertainty about being in such a large established city. It’s been a long time since her assignments have taken her into actual civilization.

“We’re never completely invisible.” She worked the Autobot brand out of its slot on her hip and dropped it into subspace. “If you’re wearing a brand, lose it. Functionalists might or might not recognize it, but I don’t want to take the risk. Somehow, I doubt the Academy’s just going to let us walk in, so let’s start with finding a back door and worry about talking our way in later, yeah?”

“I’ve not worn a brand in eons,” he muttered, glancing around a corner then trotting at a brisk pace (for him). “I say we look for a database; Records and slag we can sift through quickly and get the Pitt out. I know my way around a security firewall, you wanna be my optics behind me?”

The Academy building looked Iconian in design, but wherever this city-state had been rebuilt, the architecture was a mess of new and old facades. A loading dock was situated to their left and several vehicles waiting their turn to unload on their right. Torrent spared a glance up to Riella and then shot off at a casual pace toward the stairs leading up to a small door with a security lock. His digits transformed into precise needle-looking adapters, and in a matter of moments the red light turned a pleasant blue. “C’mon.”

Monkey Wrench

[ext-torrent]

“Yeesh, starting this party out with a bang, huh?” He asked plainly, waving to Redstrike and then plodding through the Bridge----

On the other side was a metal alley way between two very tall buildings, each rising up to the clouds above them, and only a short distance away the alley opened up into a street. They were close to the inner circle of the city where a Hall of Records sat at the center, all roads leading to the place and then crossing off into other parts of the sprawling metropolis.

“We’re looking for info on a mech named Ruka, if we can. The Academy’s transmission was sent from down this road three kliks and a block over. I can pose as a student, and you... I don’t know, whatever you want, I guess,” Torrent explained, boldly striking out of the alley. “We’re invisible here, basically. No one knows us.”

Monkey Wrench

[ext-torrent]

The Minicon huffed, listening to the two of them as he bounced from the mech’s hand down to the console and then across the table toward the Bridge. Being ignored was nothing new to him and he’d already stated his concerns before the femme had been brought aboard.

A simple drop from the countertop landed him at the base of the space bridge and he placed his servos on his hips. Waiting.

Monkey Wrench

[ext-torrent]

“I figured,” he quipped, flopping out of the cramped spot and into the Sergeant's servo. He barely had time to right himself as the ground bridge activated, and the femme that he’d spoken to briefly before strode on deck. The lights behind his visor narrowed considerably and he swung his stocky legs over the side of Redstrike’s palm. 

“So, hot stuff, you got your bags packed?”

Monkey Wrench

@autobot-scout-riella​ & @ext-torrent​

When Riella’s ping came up on his comm system Redstrike hurried over to the space bridge, opening her message along the way and memorizing the coordinates she provided with a few soft chants murmured to himself. At the same time, his cockpit cracked open and a hand was held snugly at the front of it to provide a safe space for Torrent to exit onto. If that wasn’t enough to clue the minicon into what was going on, then Redstrike’s curt order should be.

“We’re moving.”

At the bridge, Redstrike enters Riella’s coordinates into the system and opens a portal. Then, he waits, his face void of emotion but optics hard with determination. They were close. He was close. There was still a lot of work that needed done, but he was none the less one step closer to erasing the mistake known as Ruka out of existence. He was more than ready for this mission.

[ext-torrent]

@patternedwings

>:: Gonna relay a set of coordinates to you in a klik. Our ally needs a ticket on board. Or was we gonna bridge from someplace else? ::

[ext-torrent]

A long-suffering groan lifts from him, back arching in faux pain at the annoyance that was already eating at his patience. The Eradicon that was ahead of him turned, looking for the source of the sound, but the little bot had already vanished into the inner-workings of the Warship.

>:: Fine. Gimme your location. ::

ext-torrent:

Behind his visor, he squints.

>:: Upper decks’of the Nemesis; We’re gonna bridge from there. If you’ve got access to a Decepticon ship. ::

The minicon picks up the pace to trot along the halls and make his way to the simply gigantic bridge.

::I don’t,:: Riella informs him bluntly. ::Autobot, remember? There are very few Decepticons who want me around, and your boss isn’t one of them. Tell him he’ll need to bridge me in before we bridge out.::

[ext-torrent]

Behind his visor, he squints.

>:: Upper decks’of the Nemesis; We’re gonna bridge from there. If you’ve got access to a Decepticon ship. ::

The minicon picks up the pace to trot along the halls and make his way to the simply gigantic bridge.

ext-torrent:

… Oh. A hardass.

>:: We’re launchin’ ourselves into a Universe to find out who this Ruka character is. Redstrike says it’s a neutral zone with civilians. Sounds’ta me like we can waltz in the front door and no one will be the wiser. ::

::That’s the analysis I was given, though the front door seems a little too easy, don’t you think?:: It’s not really a question. Riella’s convinced the front door is too easy. 

::Let’s not get cocky–and while we’re at it, let’s save the detailed discussion for face-to-face. Even a secured comm isn’t a hundred percent safe. Where am I meeting you?::

[ext-torrent]

... Oh. A hardass.

>:: We’re launchin’ ourselves into a Universe to find out who this Ruka character is. Redstrike says it’s a neutral zone with civilians. Sounds’ta me like we can waltz in the front door and no one will be the wiser. ::

ext-torrent:

>:: Decepticon Information Specialist. Reconnaissance and Intelligence Operations, if that answers your questions. What about you? Organic Hugger Squadron? Peace Corps? Religious Fanatic Sector? ::

::Scout, Unit A217. Recon, Intel, and the kind of things Command doesn’t want to admit they ordered. I know my stuff. You already been briefed?::

[ext-torrent]

@patternedwings

“She won’t.” He says rather calmly, shifting his field to mimic his tone and give reassuring pulses to Torrent. “Because if she does anything I do not authorize to you then I’m leaving her behind in that universe.”

>:: I swear to the Unmaker, you better keep your word, or I will haunt your aft so hard you won’t know what hit you. ::

[ext-torrent]

>:: Wait a tic, you’re not coming with us? ::

>:: You’re sending me alone with an Autobot?! ::

>:: Redstrike, they’ll no sooner ship me off to their commander for interrogation and you slaggin’ know it - What are you thinking!? Who signed us up for this!? ::

@patternedwings

“Oh, so you can nap on the job, but when I do it I get the death penalty?” He teases, his field taking on a hue of amusement.

>:: Yes. ::

A swift kick to the inner most wall of where he was sitting, and then the data stick returns to it’s inert state. 

>:: When are we going? ::

[ext-torrent]

@patternedwings

“Oh, so you can nap on the job, but when I do it I get the death penalty?” He teases, his field taking on a hue of amusement.

>:: Yes. ::

A swift kick to the inner most wall of where he was sitting, and then the data stick returns to it’s inert state. 

>:: When are we going? ::

[ext-torrent]

>:: I WAS NAPPING. ::

YOU COULD HAVE LIKE, TOLD ME YOU WERE GOING TO SEND MY FREQUENCY OUT. WHAT THE SLAG, MAN.

Ah, there it is - the tit screaming.

“Pardon me for not assuming you were listening in to the my conversations, like you always do.”

[ext-torrent]

>:: Decepticon Information Specialist. Reconnaissance and Intelligence Operations, if that answers your questions. What about you? Organic Hugger Squadron? Peace Corps? Religious Fanatic Sector? ::

ext-torrent:

>:: Oh. So: You’re the Autobot Scout. ::

Slaggin’ scrap heap piece’a no good, rusted sonova–

>:: Torrent. ::

::Riella. What’s your background? You a soldier?::

[ext-torrent]

if you can't dock your minicon, storing them in your pocket will work just fine

[10:19:01 AM] onecricket: omg he keeps torrent in his cockpit

[10:19:19 AM] onecricket: why are your tits screaming sir?

[10:19:23 AM] onecricket: [punches chest]

[10:19:31 AM] onecricket: NOT SURE AS YOU WERE SOLIDER

[10:22:21 AM] Mud: WELL

[10:22:26 AM] Mud: it's the safest place for him to be

[10:22:36 AM] Mud: out of sight but not at risk of being squished by anything

[10:22:39 AM] onecricket: I love it

[ext-torrent]

>:: Oh. So: You’re the Autobot Scout. ::

Slaggin’ scrap heap piece’a no good, rusted sonova--

>:: Torrent. ::

@autobot-scout-riella

… Who gave you this frequency?