milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

belar,
spoon

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((This is Millitimed to right after the aftermath of this.))

There’s a growling Captain Lennox staking through the bar, out the door, and straight to Wells’ punching bag on the grounds. He is in full BDUs today, armed, and swearing under his breath between growls. The base does not need this blossoming mood and thankfully he’s just gotten off duty to deal with it.

Someone is not happy with the aftermath of the Space Bridge Rescue. Sure he was briefed to the fact that there were two Autobots in danger, that there were others coming to build a gateway – a Space Bridge – in the desert from Milliways… but he wasn’t informed to exactly what the nature of the danger was. And so he got a most unpleasant surprise…

-- “Ironhide, the HELL?! What the fuck happened out there?” --

It’s not like he’s angry at Ironhide for being injured so badly. Hazards of the job and that. It happens. It doesn’t however mean he has to like it, just the same as he never likes it when one of his fellow human comrades is wounded in the line of duty.

And Ironhide is a friend.

-- “… just tell me the other guy looks worse…” --

It is, however, deeply frustrating and worrying. Worrying because the guy’s not dead from he understands and that means there’s an enemy out there, licking his wounds, and waiting for a chance to strike back… no telling when or where. Worrying because now it might be personal for this guy and that Ironhide might need to watch his back - and damn, the mech might not escape with just a mauling next time! Worrying, because he’s now starting to hear of another guy, this One, given what Lissar said, who seems to be the equivalent of their damn devil, and who knows how much else that he hasn’t been told. There’s a difference between need to know and want to know, after all. Lennox understands need to know… accepts it.

But he doesn’t always have to like it either.

The frustrating part of this is that if – when- the time comes for a rematch, Lennox might not be able guard his friend’s back when he needs it most. Aside from something happening when Ironhide’s out of range and reach of help, he’s far too aware of his own limitations. He’s human, vulnerable, and just by himself - trained soldier or not - likely a liability when it comes to a clash between titans. Backed up is perhaps a different story -depending on terrain, the backup, and the element of surprise. He couldn’t take down Blackout without a couple F-22s, his team, a motorcycle, and a lot of luck. Blackout took the whole of SOCCENT, and its highly trained Special Ops soldiers, out easily by surprise.

It’s that feeling of helplessness at the heart of it. Lennox does not like it one bit. There’s a good deal of just wanting to punch in that fragger’s face too… but that… that’s a hell of a lot less disturbing.

So, punching bag. Fists. A good therapeutic pounding.

Bother at your own risk.

[OOC: Slowtimes in effect]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yeeeeah, I know the feeling," says Belar. "Some days you just wanna find whoever it is that's got the big ol' steelcapped boot on that's been kicking you in the kidneys, grab 'em by the ankle, and teach them a lesson they won't forget. Sounds rough, dude. I'm sorry it happened to you."

He sticks out his right hand for the shaking. "My name's Belar. I'm on the security team here."

"Steelcapped? Hell, that sounds about right. Just replace that with 'steelpawed' and me with a good buddy of mine..."

Damnit to hell! Lennox forces the swirling conflicting mass of emotions back to 'simmer' and rubs his face with one slightly grubby hand.

"Yeah... rough, but that's life. Throws some bitches of curves. What can you do?"

That is the question.

"I'm Captain William Lennox." He takes the hand and shakes it. "Nice to meet you."

"Surround yourself with the right people, get a crapload of the best information you can find, and yell like a mad thing at whoever's advising you if the information didn't work," says Belar. "At least, that's usually how things seemed to work out back home. Not that the yelling accomplished much, but it sure seemed to make people feel better, if nothing else."

Garion can attest to this. Also to the uselessness of yelling at the advisor.

"Same here, Captain, same here. Have you been coming here long? I don't remember seeing you around the place before."

"Got the right people, damn good people... ain't doing so great in the intel department. Damn 'need to know' and shit." Need to know is part of the reason why his knuckles are red and faintly stinging, Lennox notes absently. "I got a feeling that there's a lot going on I don't know because it's been decided I don't need to. Curse of a soldier."

"Though yelling would feel good, you're right. Probably not do me a damn bit of good with my CO though."

Lennox rakes his hand through his hair again. It's a habit. "Naw, you can say I'm a newbie. I got ambushed my first time just over a week ago, and this is my third visit since."

Belar nods. "Yeeeah, that's a pain in the ass no matter how you slice it," he says. "Getting as much as you need to know and as much as you can handle, when what you want is more... oh, believe me, I've heard a lot about that phenomenon. You do what you can with what you have, I guess."

"Is that so? Well then, Captain, welcome to Milliways, and I'm really sorry I missed you before this. Mind if I ask what you think of the place so far?"

"Yeah. No kid. I'm just praying that what I don't know doesn't come around to bite everyone on the ass more than it has."

Sorry, Lennox, sorry...

"Heh. It's... quite a place so far. Haven't seen too much. Just the Bar proper and the Garage, and I'm getting familar with the grounds out here... but it's nice. Real nice."

"I wish you luck with that," Belar says soberly. "Kinda lame, I know, but there's not a whole lot I can do to lend a hand- if I could it'd be another story."

"Oh, dude, you should see it in summer. The lake's not quite up to championship surfing standards even when they've got someone who can manipulate the wind enough to give it waves, but it gets pretty close- especially that one inlet." Belar points out towards the far end of the lake. "Follow the shoreline far enough, and there's a point where the water's all warm and salty and Caribbean. Even at this time of year."

"Thanks man," Lennox leans back his head and sighs. What a fuckin' mess.

"Really? I'll have to take 'Belle out there sometime when she's a bit bigger. My little girl," he adds for Belar's information. "She was with me when I got ambushed the first time around by the Bar."

"Oh, yeah. There's been a couple of ships that've pulled into the lake that way. Big ol' sailing vessels, all piratey and stuff. Nothing like what we had back on my world, but that was mostly because Gara's kinda medieval at the moment. They're gonna need a couple hundred more years before they get to the point of having that kind of ship." Belar grins. "Oh, that's got to make for fun childhood memories, huh? A place like this?"

"Oh yeah. No question about it." Lennox smiles fondly at the thought of his daughter. Then he chuckles. "But 'Belle's going to have an interesting childhood regardless. Sarah and I are raising her amoung the Autobots at the base... most kids don't grow up with giant robots as company."

"Yeah, no," says Belar. "No, that'd make any kid's day more interesting. I can totally see that. Shoot, I don't even know what the equivalent would be, back on Gara. I mean, we have sorcerors and stuff that some kid could grow up around, but they're, y'know, human. Just old and powerful and all. Kinda different, y'know?"

"No kidding. Man, these guys knock me for a loop day in and day out. They're awesome to be around. The things she could learn. Hell, the things's I'm learning. Been a wild ride to say the least."

Lennox is thinking of asking Ratchet or Bumblebee to help Annabelle learn to read and write a bit of the Cybertronian language when she's a little older. The speaking part is right out; human vocal cords aren't designed for that language... but young is the best time to start teaching something like this.

It would be good for her, he thinks.

Belar nods. "They don't even have stories about that kind of thing on Gara," he says. "I think most Garans would just look at a robot and assume it was a man in armor. I dunno how they'd handle something genuinely huge. We never had the question come up, y'know? It sounds like you got just a lucky, lucky little kid."

"Yes. Yes, she is indeed."

"And, y'know... I could be wrong, but it sounds like she's got a really lucky father, too. It sounds like you think that way, at least a little bit- whatever else might be happening. Could be wrong, like I said, but..."

"I am lucky. Really, Belar, don't get me wrong, I am. I'm alive for starters... lotta people, most people I was stationed with just before the Autobots and Decepticons entered my life can't say that..."

He's going to get off that topic now...

"It's just... we nearly lost Bob, and Ironhide got mauled by a guy who's probably still out there and probably considering a little payback against us for preventing the death of two Autobots he was dead set on killing for whatever reason he had. It's a really long story, and it involves that 'need to know' stuff I was going on earlier. I'm just... fuck. It's just been a really bad day."

There's an odd sort of shift in Belar's expression, slanting the easy, open look towards one of greater seriousness. "Who did the mauling?" he asks. "Do you have a name or anything? Or an affiliation? There's been a couple of other Cybertronians in here, including one who got celled a while back...."

"I don't have a name. They never told me. I did get a description. It was a cat-bot, big, powerful... ungodly powerful if it could maul Ironhide like that. It was real strange though how it knew exactly where Jetfire and Silverbolt were traveling through space. Exactly. I also got the impression that the Autobots knew exactly more or less what was coming after those two. Like they had been tipped off somehow. Like through the Bar."

The look Lennox gives Belar is sharp and contemplative. He's thinking back...

"It would make sense if it had been through the Bar. Ironhide came back one day, disturbed as much as he's ever seems to be disturbed. Then there was the rush to build the Space Bridge - it's a teleportation device... like a Stargate. Er... ask the Bar if has the Stargate movie or series. The way they were building was like they had a sword hanging over their heads.”

A horrified pause as a thought occurs

“You don't think this guy could have been sent or something?"

Lennox gaze sharpens more.

"Listen, they don't tell me much of what goes on at the Bar. They've never told me of any potential problems that might be from here- which is part of why I'm out here bashing a bag. I just heard recently from Lissar that there's this guy who's been nothing but bad news for everyone... told me when I got first here with my daughter as a heads up. She wasn't specific... just some One, a dark twin of Primus. That he got in a fight with Bumblebee and wrecked her car in progress. I'm gotten the impression... these are just impressions... that's there's been a hell of a lot more going on besides that one fight. Bumblebee, for instance, came back a little while ago pretty beat up, and I wasn't told why."

Lennox rakes a hand through his hair.

"They may not tell me but I do notice these things."

"I know what you're talking about," murmurs Belar at the Stargate suggestion.

Then his expression hardens all the way. "Ah. Yeah. Him, I know. I had to break up the fight in the garage. Between the wreckage and the fact that that guy nearly took Bumblebee's head off..." Belar shakes his head. "I can tell you some about him, if you want. It's not much, but it's something."

The Stargate reference is one Lennox has been throwing around a lot when speaking to the higher ups about the Space Bridge project and what the heck the Space Bridge actually is... since it is the best current analogy he has. Given that the higher ups he has to talk to tend to be older and not sharing the particular background in popular culture he has... it's been an interesting time. One that makes a person assume that no one knows what you're talking about.

Sorry Belar.

"If you could," Lennox says quietly in return. "Anything would be good. Anything."

It would be a start and starts could be built on...

Belar cracks a couple of his knuckles before looking off towards the bar. "Okay," he says, "it's like this. The guy who beat the snot out of Bumblebee, the one with all the evil godly mojo? His name's Unicron. He calls himself the Chaos Bringer and says he's the destroyer of the multiverse. I met him once last year, just in passing, and promised myself I'd keep an eye out for him. Anybody with an attitude like that's gonna be trouble sooner or later no matter how they seem like they're behaving. And sure enough, a month or two back, an alarm goes off in the security office and it's him. And Bumblebee. Fighting like a couple of wet cats in a sack, down in the garage. I got there in time to break it up, but I'll tell you, getting that son of a bitch celled and staying celled was like trying to convince my brother Torak he wasn't the sole reason for all of existence."

"Unicron..." Lennox repeats it once, just to make sure the name's etched in his mind good. Given the cold chills just racing inexplicably through him, he's pretty sure that that's a remote possibility. "Urgh... even his name gives me the creeps. Can see why a guy like that doesn't think playing by the rules applies to him."

So. Chaos God. They were dealing with a fucking Chaos God. That was trying to destroy everything that existed. In every reality that ever was.

Fuck.

So his assumption of Cybertronian devil wasn't too far off.

And what it could possibly mean for them...

"How did you manage to get him to co-operate with you in the end, if you don't mind me asking?" Because getting a god bent on destroying the multiverse under control is a damn impressive feat, no matter how you slice it. "Now I don't know your brother Torak, but that sounds like you had to pull out all the stops containing him."

"There's an artifact in some of the other universes out there," says Belar. "It's called the Autobot Matrix of Leadership. It's basically a direct line to Primus like the Orb of my brother Aldur's a direct line to the Necessity that guided an awful lot of people on my world for the past seven thousand years. Open it up, and Unicron's about two seconds away from being Wilson the volleyball. I have a certain knack with retrieving objects when I know exactly where and when they are. And with getting the right people around to open things that only certain people are supposed to be able to open."

Belar rubs at his nose a little, and adds, "The Prime who comes here? Doesn't have a Matrix. I mean, he could open it if he had to, but as far as I know he doesn't have one. I had to borrow this one from another world entirely to get Unicron to back off, sit down, and shut up."

Lennox nods.

"He's my Prime," Lennox says quietly, "He hasn't mentioned anything of the sort to me either, but I can't say for sure either." Need to know, and Lennox definately didn't need to know, especially given that from what Belar was saying and the power this object was supposedly kicking around, it would be probably dangerous to know as well. He had seen the lengths Megatron had gone for for the Allspark on Earth, after all. "I don't know if he has one or not," he concludes.

Lennox is wearing his thoughtful face.

"So what does the guy look like?" Needless to say, Lennox would like to know how to identify the beast and avoid as much trouble as he can.

"I've seen him in a couple of forms," Belar says. "The one I first saw him using, he was about so tall, had mostly orange armor, and horns on what looked kind of like a Darth Vader helmet. Oh, and a mustache. I don't know why. Didn't exactly seem like something to ask about. When he was beating up Bumblebee, he'd found some kind of white and purple robot form with buzzsaws in his arms, almost too tall to fit in the garage. I'm pretty sure that form could turn into some kind of robot hyena. Either way, he doesn't speak. You hear the words inside your head without him ever having to use his voice."

Belar hasn't met Unicron's planetary form yet, or he'd add that to the list.