Autobot Outpost

Nova Scotia, Canada

Windracer stood outside the station commander's office, staring blankly at the door, nervously rapping her thigh with her clawed fingers. She was not looking forward to the meeting she was scheduled to attend.

Windracer was a female Autobot of short stature, though she still towered over the average human and the bat-like wings on her back made her seem even larger. Her slim superstructure was colored with mix of grays, blues, gold and black. Her light silver face plate was contorted into a scowl, her azure optics narrowed into thin slits. Her long tail was motionless save for a slight nervous twitch at its spaded tip.

'Might as well get this over with. Vector Maximus will have my chasse if I'm even a nanoclick late.'

Windracer was part of small detachment of Autobots assigned to man a coastal outpost located on the eastern coast of Nova Scotia. Their primary assignment was to keep an eye on a nearby Decepticon outpost located just offshore, in conjunction with another station located in Newfoundland. It was mundane duty, consisting of megacycles of boredom, occasional punctuated by a half-hearted assault on the outpost itself or the rare foray to harass Decepticon patrols. The Decepticons seemed to be aware that they were under surveillance and Windracer was starting to think that their base had been set up merely to gauge a reaction.

She took deep breath, an unnecessary reflex she'd picked up from her time among humans, pressed a button next to the door and immediately heard a soft, musical tone. She didn't recognize the tune, but it bore the familiar air of a cremation dirge. That thought did little to ease the scraplets in her abdominal chamber.

A calm, low voice, similar to that of an undertaker, answered, "Enter." The sliding doors opened slowly and somewhat ominously, at least it did in Windracer's mind. She stepped cautiously into the room and the doors snapped closed behind her, causing her to flinch slightly.

Vector Maximus stood behind a large, mahogany desk, the only bit of luxury he allowed himself.. Windracer figured it was only because the desk was base property, no doubt a gift from some human craftsman; the rest of the office was sparsely decorated and felt more like an interrogation chamber than a welcome retreat. Vector Maximus himself was an imposing mech, bearing a physique that was both tall and broad, his superstructure primarily colored in a shade of dull shade of yellow. She could see the three cannons he bore, one on each arm and the third behind his left shoulder.

Windracer had not met Vector Maximus before being assigned to this post, but she was familiar with his reputed reputation. According to what she'd been told and what she read, he was known for being analytical and pragmatic with his resources. But she'd also heard some rather disturbing attributes from those who'd worked with him. It was said that he cold and impersonal to his subordinates, had a tendency to overanalyze a situation where quick action was required and would readily sacrifice them if it served the "greater good." Windracer was experienced enough to know that a good commander didn't necessarily need to be liked by their troops, but according to those she'd talked to, Vector Maximus was neither. She'd tried to keep her mind open about him when she arrived, but recent experiences in his service had colored her own opinion of him.

"You wanted to see me?" Windracer inquired carefully, placing her hands behind her back.

Vector Maximus turned to look at her, his expression betraying no emotion. "I did," he replied after a brief pause. He extended an arm towards one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Sit down, please."

Windracer took his offer and sat down in the chair, draping her wings over the back. She sat with her spine ramrod straight, her back not touching the back of the chair, a habit she had whenever in his presence. She had no real idea why she sat that way, but he rarely commented and actually seemed to prefer it.

Vector Maximus sat down as well, folded his hands in front of his face and said, "We've just received orders from Command; we're to investigate recent Decepticon activity in the Grand Banks."

Windracer said nothing, simply stared at him, knew there would be more.

"Several solar cycles ago, Cosmos picked up an increase in Decepticon communications traffic between their Terran headquarters and their offshore Grand Banks station. The transmissions were heavily encrypted and our intelligence unit is still working to crack the codes. But whatever was said, it seems that their commanders felt that it was important enough to transfer the Constructicons to the Grand Banks sometime in the last couple of solar cycles."

Windracer's frown deepened as she pondered this development. The entire Constructicon team had been transferred, something big had to be in the works. It was possible they were building some new device or expanding the base, but she doubted the Decepticons would start a major construction project on a outpost that was under heavy enemy surveillance. She could only think of one other reason for the Constructicons' reassignment; an new offensive campaign with Devastator in the lead, perhaps with one or both of the Autobot stations in the crosshairs.

"Should we begin bolstering our defensive works?" she inquired.

"The thought had occurred to me," Vector replied, "but I don't believe that will be necessary. According to Cosmos's reports, within megacycles of the Constructicons' relocation, an encoded transmission was sent from the station to a receiver near the Icelandic coast. Not long after, an Oceanglide-class submersible was observed departing from the station, heading in the direction of the Grand Banks.

"That station is in possession of one of the subs that were stolen a couple weeks ago?"

Vector Maximus nodded. "Apparently so."

Windracer frowned. The Oceanglide vehicles had originally been built for use in the deeper waters of the Pacific but were recently beginning to be shipped to outposts along the Atlantic. The pair she'd mentioned had been on their way to Labrador from construction sites in Europe when the Decepticons pilfered them. Windracer was aware that the Decepticons had the stolen submersibles, but hadn't thought they would have seen a use for them. Dynamax had apparently seen something of value if they were operating even one of them. Primus only knew what his engineers were doing to the remaining one…

The theft of the submersibles had been only one in a series of raids that the Decepticons had carried out on North Atlantic trade over the course of a couple of decacycles. Though considered more an annoyance than a critical threat to the supply lines, the attacks had created enough of a disruption for both Autobot Terran Command and the EDC to take them seriously, but despite their best efforts, they hadn't been able to put a halt to the attacks. Merchant ships weren't the only vessels that were being targeted; several nuclear submarines, including one carrying ballistic missiles, had been sunk and stripped of their weaponry and nuclear reactors before the response teams could arrive. Windracer could only guess at how the Decepticons managed to take those reactors without turning the region into a radioactive wasteland. These blitzkrieg style attacks were fairly typical and were the main problem in trying to stop the raiders. The Autobots had been able to establish a pattern of attack: the victims would torpedoed first, but this was not usually a fatal hit, just something to occupy the crew's attention. The ship would actually be sunk by someone or something either slicing a huge gash in the hull or just simply biting a hole in the keel. Once the vessel was completely submerged – no one knew if the raiders waited until it settled on the bottom or not – the holds were ransacked for anything that might be considered of value. Most of the attacks occurred in deep water, where it was believed the raiders could take their time picking through the cargo, knowing that it would be some time before anyone came to investigate the wreck.

Some thought the Seacons were somehow involved in the attacks, but Windracer has seen the reports stating that they weren't even in the solar system. The style of attack matched those employed by a group that referred to themselves as the Eisen Dragoons and there was physical evidence that they might be involved in some way. The raiders had attacked a Los Angeles-class attack submarine, but the sub survived its encounter and even received a souvenir; an unexploded torpedo lodged in its hull. The warhead's nose had been emblazoned with the Dragoons' distinctive emblem, but it what it couldn't reveal whether or not one of their members fired it. For all anyone knew, it may have just simply been part of a larger arsenal sent to the Decepticon Terran forces.

Breaking out of her thoughts, she asked, "Do we know who that transmission to Iceland was intended for?"

"Negative," Vector Maximus said. "That transmitter's been investigated before. Nothing there but a buoy, which is though to serve as a means of shunting signals to its intended destination. The signal becomes untraceable after that."

She was familiar with object Vector mentioned. Not long after the raids had begun, a patrol had discovered a buoy in a region where few buoys were necessary, even for the NATO SOSUS nets. Once its purpose had been discovered, the Autobots moved it to the nearest outpost and attempted to trace destination of any transmissions that passed through. But the transmitter had stopped working almost as soon as the buoy had been confiscated and not long after a second buoy was discovered in nearly the exact same location. They left that one in place but planted a listening device, hoping it would prove more insightful. But the bug lasted only a few nanoklicks before it suddenly went dead; a quick investigation revealed that the second buoy had been destroyed. When a third transmitter appeared in a different location, no attempt was made to hack it, as it was obvious that someone was keeping tabs on their equipment.

"And what of the submersible?" Windracer inquired. "Any idea where that was heading?"

"Cosmos followed its trajectory until he lost them around…" Vector Maximus checked one of the various info-pads scattered across his desk. "… Longitude forty-four degrees north, latitude fifty-three degrees west. It's believed that at this point the submersible dove to a depth his scanners couldn't penetrate. However, he tracked it long enough to determine that, provided that they didn't change course after he lost contact, they'd pass into an area of the ocean known locally as the Laurentian Abyss. Central Command believes they're still in the vicinity and I'm inclined to agree with that assessment."

"Is there any way to be certain of that?" Windracer inquired. "How do we know they haven't surfaced around Maine or Boston?"

"I understand your concern," Vector stated. "However, we've had several surveillance satellites looking for the sub's profile ever since it left the station. The EDC has also had a couple P-3 Orions crisscrossing the Atlantic, each equipped with sensors that can hone in on its unique engine signature. They've found nothing thus far and the Oceanglides don't have the range for a cross-ocean trip. It's only logical to conclude that it is still in the area of the Abyss."

'What could they be doing there?' Windracer wondered. 'There's nothing down there but miles of open ocean, if they're at the bottom, nothing but sediment. If they wanted to drill for an energy supply, they would have better luck in the Grand Banks…'

"As we're the closest outpost to that particular region," Vector Maximus droned on, "we've been ordered to send a small scouting party to investigate. I want you to lead it."

Windracer nodded, grateful for any escape from the dullards of base duty. There might even be an opportunity to send a few Decepticons to a watery grave. If the Constructicons had also been aboard, terminating even one of their ranks would mean the end of Devastator. It was simply too good an opportunity to pass up.

She started to rise from the chair, saying, "I'll start putting a team together immed…"

"Don't bother," Vector Maximus said, drawing out another info-pad. "I've already taken the liberty." He handed the pad to her.

Windracer remained standing, but winced slightly as she took the pad from him. He was well known for his micromanaging and she'd been the victim of that little quirk on more occasions than she cared to recall. As she looked over the roster, he continued, "I want your team collected and on its way within thirty cycles. I've also arranged for the use of depth ranging sonar, in case the Decepticons are hiding in the depths."

Windracer nodded absently, wasn't really listening, was rereading the roster with a deep sense of dread. 'He can't be serious…'

Vector saw the expression on her face. "Is something wrong?"

She looked up briefly, then back down at the pad, trying to think of how to best voice what she was thinking. "With all due respect, sir, the team you've put together…" She paused, trying to collect her thoughts, wanting to say, 'The team you've put together is a load of slag!'

"Yes?" He was watching her carefully.

Windracer took a deep breath before she spoke. "Sir, I'm familiar with the units you've assigned to this mission. I know two of them to be decent warriors, even if one has a tendency to exaggerate his own abilities. The other, if I may be frank, is a bit too… unpredictable for my tastes." 'Too infantile might be a better description…' "And none of them are really suited for the environment we'll be operating in."

"Can't be helped," Vector Maximus said. "All our sea-capable units are currently on another assignment and won't return for some time."

"Again, with all due respects," Windracer said, guarding her words carefully, "their mission is to chart the waters around Anticosti Island. I'm certain Central Command won't mind if recall them…"

"I'm sorry, Windracer," he stated flatly. "But this is all we can spare without weakening our defenses. You'll have to do with what you have."

She frowned, had half expected this. Vector Maximus was living up to his reputation as the ultimate pragmatist, using only those units that he available. He would almost never pull units from other assignments unless it was absolutely critical, and she had the feeling he didn't view her mission as all that important; after all, they were just doing a little reconnaissance. She thought for a moment, remembering a report she'd seen a few days earlier.

"If I may, sir," she said, "but if I recall correctly, Deepdive and Alcatraz are both assigned to patrol duty along the Cabot Strait. If I could be allowed to request to add them to this roster and bolster our sea power…"

"Negative," Vector Maximus said. "Deepdive and Alcatraz are assigned to the Newfoundland post and are beyond my authority."

"Then we can request their services from the Newfoundland post," Windracer said, trying desperately not to sound like she was begging. "I'm fairly certain that Blazer Prime would be amenable…"

"I'm sorry, Windracer," Vector stated flatly. "But our orders were explicit."

"Sir, they're right over the Laurentian Channel, which is a direct shot to the Abyss itself…"

"The answer is no."

Windracer growled in frustration, a carry over from her alternate form. Vector was taking Central Command's orders literally, again, and that had caused problems in the past. She had, as the humans might say, a gut feeling that there would be trouble and she felt the need to convince him to change his mind before he committed to what she thought was a mistake.

Leaning forward and placing her hands on his desk, she said, "With all due respect, sir, if the Decepticons are operating on the ocean floor…"

"Highly unlikely," he interrupted. "We have no recorded instance of the Decepticons carrying out an undersea operation below five hundred meters."

"On this planet, perhaps. But there is suspicion that the Eisen Dragoons are providing support to the Decepticons here on Earth, perhaps even more, and they've operated out of Hylion Prime for years. From what little data we've been able to obtain, Hylion is an ocean planet with certain points so deep they'd make the Mariana Trench look like a public swimming pool. It is my respectful opinion that anyone whose operated from such a world has some knowledge and experience with deep sea operations. It's entirely possible that one member of the Dragoons is here on Earth, possibly more, and is responsible for the raids on commercial shipping. If they are here, Dynamax would be idiotic ignore any potential they might have to assist his own forces."

"I will admit that your statement has some logic to it," Vector said. "However, there is no proof that the Dragoons have been involved in anything other than providing supplies."

'Well it's not like they'd sink the QE2, pop out of the ocean and go 'Nyah-nyah,'' Windracer thought. Aloud, she said, "That is true sir, but if the Decepticons are working in deep water, wouldn't it make sense that there'd at least be a Dragoon onsite to assist, perhaps even command, the effort?"

"That would be illogical. Such a unit would be considered too valuable to risk in a major operation. It is also unlikely that Dynamax would consider any member of the Eisen Dragoons qualified to lead any assignment."

"Depends on the Dragoon," Windracer said flatly.

Vector Maximus cocked his head slightly. "It is extremely unlikely that either Archanubis or Northclaw would be sent on such a menial mission. Archanubis would regard it as beneath his dignity and the Dragoons' tactics regarding Northclaw is to use him as sparingly as possible, usually only as a weapon of last resort."

Windracer had to admit he was correct about Archanubis's chances of being on Earth, but not for the reasons he stated. The Dragoons' commander had begun to take a less active role in their operations of late and there were rumors that he was considering retiring altogether. Northclaw, on the other hand… Judging by the reports she'd seen, he wasn't being used as "sparingly" as he seemed to assume. But Vector was simply going by the official information he had on hand; he'd didn't consider scuttlebutt worth his attention.

She made one last attempt to persuade him to change his mind. "Sir, wouldn't be prudent to cover all possibilities on the off chance…"

Vector Maximus stared at her, the expression on his face a mask of calm, his optics staring coldly into hers. "You have your orders, Windracer. I expect them to be carried out immediately; if you don't believe yourself capable, I'll find someone else who is."

Windracer sighed, resigned to her fate. She was familiar enough with him to know that once he made up his mind there was very little chance that he'd change it. She bowed curtly, saying, "Yes, sir."

"Dismissed," Vector Maximus said, turning away to look at yet another info-pad. Windracer didn't waste any time; she turned on her heels and walked out of the office. She stopped just outside the door, stood absolutely still even as they closed behind her, her body shaking with anger. She curled her hands into fists as she seethed, her rage boiling over. In a final expression of frustration, she raised an arm and slammed her fist hard into the nearest wall.