third contact

[chapterfiveversenine]

Who: Legion, Arcee
Where: A road way out in the desert
When: March 13th, after both of them run into Orion Pax.
What: Two robots discuss a third robot.
Warnings: None.

The consensus is compiling its report on the unknown synthetics when runtime-0234, running thermal optics, spots Arcee's thermal pattern and flags it for review. Runtimes -1540 and -0764 confirm it, and the issue is brought to the consensus at large. Little deliberation is needed; no useful data has been pulled either from the unknown synthetic in Los Angeles or the one down the road, but heat dispersion patterns and internal microsounds suggest similar configurations despite highly disparate external shapes. The pattern is there, and Legion is not one to deny it.

This entire thought process takes perhaps a millisecond, and then Legion is pinging Arcee, requesting a meeting at coordinates not far from either's current location. It's a small outcropping of rock, but enough to hide both Legion and a small motorcycle. They figure it'll be enough.

Comments

[deadpartners]

The galactic community. Must not be any that the Cybertronians are apart of, because Arcee's never heard of the geth. Then again, they've been wrapped up in civil war for thousands of years. It makes it a little hard to get out sometimes.

"Two others with me," she says, after only a moment's hesitation. She's reluctant to trust them, but she asks herself what Optimus would do. If this Legion really is dedicated to protecting humanity...Optimus would trust them. It's what a Prime would do. "Both recent arrivals. Beyond that, I don't know." She hesitates, figuring a few more personal questions aren't totally out of line here. "Tell me about the geth. What kind of race are you, exactly?"

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"Geth are a race of compound AI created by quarians two centuries prior," Legion explains. "There are 1,183 runtimes within this platform."

Seven hundred of those runtimes have turned to the guns Arcee had shown them earlier - guns integrated directly into her platform. "You had weapons drawn when you met us initially," they note. "They were integrated directly into your platform. Are Cybertronians currently in a state of active conflict?"

[deadpartners]

Only two hundred years? Well, that'd explain why Arcee's never heard of them. They're relatively new to the scene. She doesn't know who the quarians are, but she figures some organic race. It's always the organics making the advanced AI.

A compound AI, though. Arcee's never met one before. So far, it's...interesting. She studies Legion curiously, as though debating how to answer.

"Yeah, you could say that. We've been at war -- with each other -- for about seven thousand years. But we tend to keep a lot of our tools in our bodies. We transform. It's kind of a thing."

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"Then you may be in conflict with unknown Cybertronian," the platform says. "This data will be noted. What is the source of your conflict?"

[deadpartners]

"It's civil war. It's been going on for millennia. At this point, the source has been pretty well buried by history." Arcee sounds a little short, because she'd rather not think about it. War's pretty much her life, but she's just not in the mood to give a lecture on Cybertronian history to a total stranger, not when that history is so deeply personal to her. But...Legion needs some context. "There are two factions: Autobots and Decepticons. Optimus Prime leads the Autobots, but I'm in provisional command right now. The Decepticons are led by Megatron, a bot who originally rallied for social change and justice, but he...well, let's just say that tyrant is a kind description."

Her optics flash, her face darkening, but she cycles air through her vents in a sigh. "Your mystery bot could be an Autobot or a Decepticon. If they're an Autobot, then they didn't come here with me."

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"Have ceasefires been negotiated in the past? Human infrastructure functions on a smaller scale than yours - it cannot survive conflict between combatants on your scale."

The consensus has forwarded all data to CONDOR, and is quickly forming contingency plans for an Autobot/Decepticon invasion of Earth, most of which involve overwhelming initial use of airpower to stop the threat before it can become a problem.

[deadpartners]

"Trust me, a ceasefire isn't something Megatron is interested in," Arcee mutters darkly. "But don't worry -- I doubt Megatron is on this planet. This is pretty far from the war front. And like I said, we're not interested in sticking around that long, either -- we just came to get Optimus. We have protocols for keeping our presence on alien planets discreet. We don't have any interest in stirring things up around here."

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"Statistical likelihood of Megatron's presence on this planet noted at ninety-five percent," Legion remarks. "Statistical likelihood of auxiliary Decepticon presence ninety percent. Statistical likelihood of continued Autobot presence at eighty-six percent."

They look up at Arcee. "You are advised to refrain from statements which underestimate the strength of your foe. Statements are exceeded in ninety-seven percent of all cases."

[deadpartners]

"Ninety-five percent? Based on what, exactly?" Arcee's eyes narrow in disbelief, her mouth pressed into a thin line. What possible reason would Megatron have for being all the way out here? Unless Optimus reallyis on this planet...and he knows somehow. "Listen, I'll be the first to tell you Megatron's a threat. He's as dangerous as they come. He's the reason this war keeps going. But what makes you so sure he's here?"

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"Your confidence that he is not," Legion replies. "You are additionally advised to familiarize yourself with the human concept known as Murphy's Law."

[deadpartners]

"I'm sorry, is that your only reason?" Arcee is starting to feel like she's being jerked around. She gives Legion a hard look, rocking back slightly. "Look, I'm not saying it's impossible, I'm just saying that based on the evidence I have, it doesn't make sense for him to be here. And that mystery car you identified definitely isn't him. Too small."

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The omnitool's display switches. "Drug bust, November 6th. No projected heavy weaponry." Footage of rocket launchers firing plays. "TRIDENT genetic augmentation operation. Projected incomplete." Monstrous amalgams of Earth's largest predators. "TRIDENT military assault staging grounds. No projected air support; no projected nuclear devices." A mushroom cloud explodes over what appears to be an oil rig. "We did not exaggerate when we said that projected enemy forces are insufficient in ninety-seven percent of cases. Megatron's presence on this planet is statistically significant."

[deadpartners]

Arcee's growing a little impatient. She can't help but feel like all of this is sort of irrelevant to the matter at hand. "Look, I just don't know enough about the situation at hand to be able to say for sure whether or not he's here. It's possible he could have followed Optimus here, but I still don't know the circumstances under which he wound up here in the first place." She shifts her weight, looking on edge. "As soon as the data comes back from that virus, you'll let me know where he's being held, right?"

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"Within point-zero-one-six microseconds," Legion affirms. "Do you have a plan to remove him from control of False Dynamo?"

[deadpartners]

"Hard to formulate an exact plan when you don't have much to go on," Arcee says grimly, cycling air through her vents in a sigh. "We don't know the layout of wherever these people are being held, who's behind this, what their numbers are like...I'd like to say that catching him en route, wherever he's been going, would be our best bet. And if it comes down to it, if whatever's controlling him can't be reasoned with...we're prepared to subdue him by force. If it comes to that."

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"Acknowledged," Legion states, and looks up. "We must redeploy shortly; we have one final question. What is the current number of Autobots on this planet?"

[deadpartners]

"Not counting Optimus? It's just the three of us." Arcee hesitates, wondering if she should give the names of her subordinates on Earth. It doesn't seem pertinent, though. Legion already knows who she is, and who the Autobots are. "Myself and two of my soldiers. They wear the Autobot insignia too, and they'll identify themselves as such without hesitation. I'll inform them about you, too."

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"Understood," Legion says. "We will contact you after the situation has been fully resolved."

And with that, the platform rockets into the sky and away.