Entry tags:
[ we auctioned off our memories in the absence of a breeze ]
Who: Baelheit and Miriel (with bonus Milly!)
Where: Mintaka Industries
When: Immediately after his meeting with Megatron
What: Mintaka Industries is under threat by the Decepticon forces. Time to hide its most valuable asset: the synth-en formula.
Warnings: UNCOMFORTABLE AMOUNTS OF MATH, Baelheit family problems, THE USUAL
The moment that Megatron's avatar has left his office, Baelheit contacts Miriel. There is absolutely no time to waste. He may have bought himself a few hours, but he knows that Megatron was not convinced by his show of acquiescence. He is uninterested in giving Megatron and his troops the means to leave this planet, or worse, attack it...especially without receiving anything in return. Perhaps he would have accepted a trade, if only to cut their losses down to something acceptable, but Daimon's whispers in the back of his mind have urged him to take a different course.
They cannot be allowed to come to possess this information, Julius. You mustn't give it to them. The formula is yours by right, and no one else's. You need it, and you need the Cybertronians. Your work won't be complete without them.
What should he do, then? What would Daimon have him do?
Hide it in plain sight. Use the resources at your disposal. You have more than just tools and toys, Julius, you have so much more...
He doesn't bother with an email -- in an uncharacteristically urgent move, he pages Miriel over the building's PA system, his tone brisk and professional as ever. "Dr. Frost, please report to the head office immediately. I must speak with you on an urgent matter."
While he waits for her to arrive, he sends a text message to Milliarde. He and Daimon have already begun to formulate a plan -- as ingenious of one as they could on such short notice -- although Daimon seems more than ready to tackle the matter at hand. If he wants to keep the formula out of Megatron's possession, he'll just have to make it that much harder to find.
Where: Mintaka Industries
When: Immediately after his meeting with Megatron
What: Mintaka Industries is under threat by the Decepticon forces. Time to hide its most valuable asset: the synth-en formula.
Warnings: UNCOMFORTABLE AMOUNTS OF MATH, Baelheit family problems, THE USUAL
The moment that Megatron's avatar has left his office, Baelheit contacts Miriel. There is absolutely no time to waste. He may have bought himself a few hours, but he knows that Megatron was not convinced by his show of acquiescence. He is uninterested in giving Megatron and his troops the means to leave this planet, or worse, attack it...especially without receiving anything in return. Perhaps he would have accepted a trade, if only to cut their losses down to something acceptable, but Daimon's whispers in the back of his mind have urged him to take a different course.
They cannot be allowed to come to possess this information, Julius. You mustn't give it to them. The formula is yours by right, and no one else's. You need it, and you need the Cybertronians. Your work won't be complete without them.
What should he do, then? What would Daimon have him do?
Hide it in plain sight. Use the resources at your disposal. You have more than just tools and toys, Julius, you have so much more...
He doesn't bother with an email -- in an uncharacteristically urgent move, he pages Miriel over the building's PA system, his tone brisk and professional as ever. "Dr. Frost, please report to the head office immediately. I must speak with you on an urgent matter."
While he waits for her to arrive, he sends a text message to Milliarde. He and Daimon have already begun to formulate a plan -- as ingenious of one as they could on such short notice -- although Daimon seems more than ready to tackle the matter at hand. If he wants to keep the formula out of Megatron's possession, he'll just have to make it that much harder to find.
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Of course, there's also the question of where she should hide it, if anywhere. She could always place it in an alternate dimension, but maybe that would be overkill. Putting it in her house might endanger her personal research – her spellbooks are priceless artifacts from beyond the physical plane, but they can still be damaged. It might be too large for a pocket, so perhaps she could stick it in her purse. These are the important questions.
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He rises from his chair, resting his palms on the surface of his desk, his face grave as he looks at Miriel. "But that in itself may not be enough, Dr. Frost. Even with as secure a measure as I am sure you've devised, hiding the formula in only one place strikes me as a foolish move. Rather, the data will be heavily encrypted and then split -- you will possess one half, and I will take measures to protect the other myself."
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"Did Megatron reveal any information regarding the numbers he commands? I doubt he would be so foolish as to say anything outright, but even hints may be utilizable." It does very much make a difference if five Cybertronians come knocking on her door, as opposed to one or two. Of course, Megatron might consider them, being human pests, to be easy to deal with, and therefore not requiring large numbers.
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Baelheit would know, because Megatron...Megatron is not unlike himself, in that regard. He adjusts his glasses, his face grim. "He is not Starscream. He cannot be begged or bargained with; we cannot appeal to his ego to soften him. He says he would raze this building to the ground if he felt it necessary. I believe him."
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Of course, that's easier said than done when you're talking about a large, ruthless alien robot. In fact, Miriel doesn't know what would keep Megatron from destroying whatever he wanted to. Death, probably, but Cybertronians are likely more difficult to kill than organics. There would also be the possibility of further retaliation by Megatron's forces, which could be costly to not just Mintaka Industries. They are in quite a tricky situation.
"What will you tell him when he inevitably returns, Dr. Baelheit?" Miriel asks. "I doubt he would have chosen to leave without the formula, so, considering the circumstances, I imagine that you convinced him to give you time to decide."
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"Have you decided what you will do to ensure your own safety, Dr. Baelheit?" she asks, after several moments. There's an almost imperceptible change in the tone of her voice; it's the slightest bit softer, like a little part of the analytical edge has been rounded out for just a moment. "That is likely not at the forefront of your mind right now, but it is important to consider, if you have not already done so."
no subject