randomplaces | Armada-'verse. Cyberton. Wishes in the night.

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old armada nightwish

Armada-'verse. Cyberton. Wishes in the night.

Nightwish blinks as she comes back online, and then quirks a slight grin as she realizes that she's laying on the floor in her quarters, in her favorite place partially underneath her berth. -I made it home. Bonus.-

Then she lifts her head to looks at the tiny being sheltered in the curve of her body, one long finger tracing gently along his helm as she remembers how many times she'd had to rescue him from walking over the edge of the bar the night before. "Hey, 'Clash are you awake yet?"

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And down in the corner of the screen a little light starts to flash, telling him that the data search he'd been doing has results.

Thunderclash whistles aloud in triumph, though his conversation doesn't so much as waver for it. He keeps responding to Treadshift's points as he pulls up the results. "Uh-huh... yeah, I know exactly what you mean. It's like the laws they tried in Cyber City, you remember those?"

Just the ghost of a deleted file. Whoever did the data wipe knew what they were doing, but left that little scrap in some set aside and forgotten recycle bin. It speaks of secret experiments aimed at making super 'Cons, a program that was scrapped when the Minicon power was discovered. It speaks of indestructible shells and above average strength and intelligence, of creating the perfect hunter.

But that's all. Besides that little data ghost Nightwish has no past whatsoever before she reached that border outpost.

The news from there is interesting in its own way. Nightwish led that outpost for a couple million years after moving up through the ranks, but then resigned with no explanation and was sent to Iacon by her new superior in order to keep her from stagnating.

Edited 2008-05-19 17:31 (UTC)

Thunderclash finishes ingratiating himself with the Decepticon and turns off the link, before turning his full attention to the data. Firewall had been right about where to look, it seemed.

And how grateful I am, the Minicon thinks, folding his arms and leaning on the console as he reads. Oh, this is brilliant. It's not hard to figure out where Nightwish fits in to this picture. Thunderclash is experienced enough to know the kind of exaggeration that 'Cons get into when they're describing their own plans. And this is from before the start of the Powerlinx experiments - this is old. What was perfection then may not be now...

But on the other hand, he's seen some of Nightwish in action. Perfect or not, she's way beyond most of the clankers he's fallen in with before. She's had time to improve even on whatever she was given.

Not to mention picking up a few more mysteries...

The insistent beep of an incoming call sounds then, intruding on his train of thought.

He answers promptly, still gazing at the screen. //Thunderclash here.//

//Your girlfriend's dead,// says a gruff con voice disinterestedly.

//My what- what?// He's out of his chair without knowing it. //Where, when, how? I want details, here!//

//The east sixth reactor went into meltdown. She got everyone away from the core and then went in to shut it off.//

He's out of the door and flipping into jet mode, opening other private channels as he goes. //And? Who's there now?//

//The decon and clean up units. And a few security guys like me.//

He curses to himself, outside the channel. //You can let your friends know it'll be worth their while if they recover her.//

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Armada-'verse. Cyberton. Wishes in the night.

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