#DataPacket

[singingcicadas]

Realized that even though it's a shame that there wasn’t much Drift/Megatron interaction in the story, we still got a fairly detailed one-sided account of Drift’s opinion.

Because this is in no way an accurate assessment of the mentality of the crew members on Necroworld. Drift's either doing some really bullshit armchair psychology or he's projecting his own feelings and assuming that they're shared by everyone else.

Once you break everyone down individually you can see that Drift’s theory applies to very few people:

Rodimus and Minimus have sort of an ambiguous friendship going on with Megatron. Rodimus literally chose to save his life when he could have let Megatron explode with Tarn. Minimus immediately proceeded to give himself congnitive dissonance b/c he thought Megatron betrayed them by running away.

Nautica Velocity Cyclonus Tailgate Ten have no preexisting history against Megatron.

Nautica has more Other Problems than to pay attention to Megatron.

Velocity’s conversation with Megatron after the psychological attack was nothing but caring and friendly. Megatron even felt comfortable enough to admit to her that he was happy. She and Nautica are amongst the few people who sees Megatron as a person first, before his deeds.

Cyclonus might even admire him a little with the romanticized way he talks about the Decepticon ideology.

Tailgate's knowledge about Megatron's past comes entirely from datapackets and documentaries. And his response to that kind of threat level is to pull a gun on him and then try to shadowplay the evilness out. Point is, Tailgate's method to dealing with threats is to be very hands-on, especially after he got his spark spasm superpowers. His way of coping is definitely not brainwashing himself into thinking 'he's not a threat' and being unconsciously nervous all the time.

Whirl hates Megatron with a passion but he also saved Megatron in the time travel. He views Megatron as less of a threat than the functionists.

Nightbeat doesn’t care about anything other than his mysteries; his response to threat of imminent demise at sundown is to go exploring.

Rung’s… Rung. He’s forgiving and compassionate, and also a professional therapist who should be capable of employing healthy rational methods to cope with Megatron being in his life.

Rewind, like Nautica, has a whole slew of Other Problems, I'm sure Megatron's not a very big priority right now.

Skids is dead.

That only leaves like three people unaccounted for and they’re all branded Megatron sympathizers for a reason: they all said no to Getaway when he asked if they were pro ‘mutiny and kick Megatron off the ship.’

Drift's only been back for seven days, even if he got filled in with everything that happened since, he's still in no position to be making that kind of assessment. He doesn't have the context. He wasn't there when Megatron was captain of the ship. He didn't even meet Nautica Velocity and Nightbeat before he left, he has no idea what they're like or what they think of Megatron. Even Rewind's not the same one from before. (Add: he also didn't know Ultra Magnus was actually Minimus in a suit)

Most importantly his entire response in the second two panels is the complete opposite of Ratchet's original question. Ratchet's question was "Is it me or is everyone a little skittish?" Skittish. as in nervous. uneasy. jumpy. Drift's like "Megatron's gone so they can relax." But skittish is the opposite of relaxing? and they only started being skittish after Megatron left? He's the only one to bring up Megatron in this?

Rodimus' reasoning in the first panel (sans Rodpod) makes much more sense.

TL;DR: Drift's nervous around his old boss and can only relax after Megatron's gone, so he assumes that everyone else must feel the same way too. Everyone else: not really?

[the-starry-seas]

have to get this thought out while it's here but like: bail tagging along on fox's first Hike because apparently fox will be traumatised by the wildlife if left to his own devices, but he still wants to explore, and breha has her queen duties the entire morning

and then breha gets a massive datapacket from bail's comm and does the space equivalent of texting under the table because that seems like it might be important

and it's just an absolutely massive number of pictures of fox sprawled in a patch of mountain flowers, bright colours all around him, his fingers curled around the grass, his face tilted up to the sun with the kind of soft smile one usually only sees in classical paintings

and a video of bail plucking a flower to wiggle under fox's nose, and fox sneezing about it and then laughing, a low warm chuckle that has him stretching out among the flowers and relaxing with a soft sigh

they end up not coming home until it's almost dark because fox was so comfortable and bail taught him the art of looking for shapes in the clouds because it would have been a crime to move him (and it was the perfect excuse for bail to shuffle closer and put his head on fox's shoulder).

breha goes with them the next time and they just end up camping overnight at a nearby overlook, and there's so many more beautiful flowers at night that fox doesn't give a single thought to the Creatures

[optimus-prime-tfp]

Optimus Prime: Will be receiving a large datapacket with vital information regarding the Decepticon war effort within a few hours.

Soundwave: Recommends immediate opening it, reviewing the information, and using it wisely.

Understood Soundwave. And just know, you will always be able to find asylum with the autobots if so chosen.

[ikno-io]

Packet loss refers to the failure of data packets to reach their destination, leading to degraded network performance. Learn about its causes, effects, and solutions. read the full article: https://bit.ly/3XNE4Ne #PacketLoss #Network #DataPackets #Networking #QoS read more: what is packet loss

[twiincast]

Headcanon:

Blaster and Soundwave are right about the same size, but Blaster has a bit more bulk on him since he's a broadcast unit.

For a while there, he had absolutely no animosity towards the other Host Mech. Sure, he didn't agree with the other's faction or "morals" but he didn't go out of his way to attack Soundwave either. That only came about when the other managed to torture Beachcomber into taking the shot to try to silence him. Now, it's personal.

His stage Persona, the "Voice" is just that- a persona. When he's not broadcasting, he's a remarkably quiet mech who tends to read more than speak on his downtime. Now and again, he can coax his Symbiotes into the occasional game- but for the most part, he's quite content to simply observe them.

He has five symbiotes- but two of them are free agents at the moment and the other deactivated. The only ones that remain with him are Steeljaw and Sundor.

Steeljaw's altmode is easily the size of a Terran Cave Lion, but he's a gentle soul. Like his Host, he tends to read and explore the world more academically. Before the cementation of Functionalist, he had a Degree of Xenobiology from the Iaconian Institute- but it was redacted when the current Senate took command.

Blaster does have data-cables, though they're not in the same configuration as Soundwave's. His are more like fiber-optics, and can easily plug into just about anything to receive and send out datapackets. This allows him to neatly bypass the whole "hacking" thing. He's not as adept at that as his competitor is.

He really has no favorite genre of music, but Jazz just HAD to go and get him hooked on rock ballads. Now and again, catch him humming to Poison, or even more rarely- something like Panic! at the Disco.

Blaster prefers to observe rather than jump right into a situation. He's still the same person he was before his attack, but it has definitely taught him the value of patience.

And recognizing panic attacks versus flashbacks.

[mnemoiisms]

"Technically, it is more one guy with a vendetta against the industry and myself, but, yes. Correct. False assumptions" Mnemosurgery could be just as beneficial to the newly budding society post!war as it was devastating at the start. Unfortunately, sometimes there was a line where coping mechanisms stopped being helpful and the ability to remove the source of trauma was a cure. No amount of venting techniques, calming ticks, rhythmic pattern therapy would stop one shopkeeper's shout sending you into a firefight with your bellowing commander.

At that point, therapy stopped and Trepan stepped in.

Could I employ some services?

"Of course" Don't mind a little helm tilt, Trepan's optics dimming in focus elsewhere, and Ghostspire's HUD pinging with a datapacket. An address, a business listing, and a contact us for a consult.

"Regardless how all of this goes, book an appointment with Deadlift. He specialises in the alteration and construction of new frames, so some armour plates would be quite easy for him. Just tell him how you want it to sit or move, how thick or durable you want it, and bring a paint pot as he hates having to colour match spare plates" Ironic, that it was a monoformer who specialised in the construction of the vehicular and transforming.

Oh, the last little sample on the platter of course one. Given it was his date, sorry Ghost, he is nabbing it.

"Just a heads up, depending on the armour he does make you, he may also remove and replace surrounding parts for the finished product to ensure a more natural fit. He's a bit ... 'wired' when it comes to the finished product"

He listened, hem tilting and considering the mech in front of him while he selected one of the many little treats presented to them.

Many mechs, from his understanding at least, had also gone through many frame upgrades. By choice or by force depended on where the mech stood, though. War made certain things necessities, and one of those things was serious armor upgrades and weapon instalments.

"Fascinating." Another piece of fuel lost to sharp fangs and forked glossa as his claws tapped the table.

"And I'm assuming that some are either making assumptions on how this therapy is working, or how it's applied. And based on those assumptions, they want to shut you down." A claw nudged one of the sweeter pieces of fuel closer to the mech.

"How incredibly rude of him trying to shut down someone offering some much needed services." He was unsure if the war in his own universe was over, he hadn't much cared in all honesty. He had his own vendetta, but perhaps...

"Could I, possibly, employ some of your services? I need some extra armor, however." Along his back where exposed wing joints and wires got torn and crunched so often it was difficult to fight sometimes.

"I have some... issues with my back armor."

[sparkmender]

{ @red-in-revolt }

Redstrike stares at it dead-eyed and pouting because he literally nullifies these things the second he touches them. Thankfully he also nullifies viruses but still.

The Ornament hesitates for a klik, but then pops open a compartment in his thigh and draws out a much older, much more practical option: foil spikesleeve packets.

"These are only good for wetware interfacing, but they're a physical barrier contraceptive rather than a datapacket. If you would prefer...?"

[thenamesblurrito]

GUESS WHO’S BACK WITH CYBERTRONIAN FOOD IT’S ME BABY!! And all of them are fruits! You can find all the other food posts in this masterlist here

1) cherry bombs double as both hard candy and festive explosives. Sweet and spicy at the same time, they grow from areas with a lot of sulfur and carbon. They’re ready to be picked when the fuses of a cherry bunch unravel from each other to let each cherry swing freely. Sometimes the wind blowing through the branches will knock the cherries together hard enough to detonate one and strip the whole tree in a loud messy chain reaction. Certain mechanimal species like gryphraxi that require ammunition as part of their fuel eat cherry bombs often, otherwise it’s mostly Cybertronians who pick and eat them.

2) sticky little shells of congealed fuels, pistachioils are found exclusively underground, stretching downward like stalactites to collect trickles of oil. The talc shells are edible too, and lend a nice crunch to the sticky oil inside.

3) logginkey plants are one of the rare cyberflora species that don’t emerge from a flora hotspot, but instead emerge from one of the datapacket seeds transferred to another plant. Growing on other cyberflora, a logginkey takes energy from its host and in turn acts as a secondary immune system, running through system checks and setting up firewalls. They’re a general health station for mechanimals as well, with their flower plugs capable of interfacing with and debugging fauna visiting for a checkup. These mechanimals then take the fruits to eat, and a benign temporary script uploaded by the flower directs them to stick one or two seeds on a different plant somewhere. The seeds are electrified and very sour-sweet, and mecha often take them like supplements. (it was a bit hard to figure out a name for lilikoi, but I figured reversing the order of keylogging would work)

4) thank you to @dear-fellow-travelers for the suggestion! There’s a variety of oilmelon types, all derived from the same codeline but developing differently depending on the resources surrounding their hotspot. Cantalubricants are often underground, honeydetergents are common around acid swamps, and papoyleums mostly show up near wellsprings and geysers. They’re usually soft on the inside, sweet, and energizing

5) bombegranate trees are ecosystem architects. Their fruit grows up at the very top of the branches, and not long after ripening, explodes outward, sending hard crystal seeds scattering a good ways away and embedding them in the ground with sheer force. These crystal seeds start crystal prairies, and after awhile a single bombegranate can surround itself with a huge radius of wild-growing crystals. The fruits need to be harvested right when they ripen, unless the harvester wants to risk a bomb in the face, and the seeds can be chewed a long time before breaking down because of how hard they are.

[machinesandman]

[DLN-000 > DWN-024]: Oh, you know.

[DLN-000 > DWN-024]: B)

He is enjoying this way too much.

[DLN-000 > DWN-024]: Your eyes are the color of the setting sun, and I wish I were the horizon meeting you.

Wait. No. He knew that tone. He knew that so called expression. Shadow was about to respond-

There was a very distinct sound of a record scratch of some sort, and the feeling of startled surprise, then flustered heat. Shadow pulling back every single datapacket he had been exchanging to yank himself into self control, back together, as tension shot through everything that made up who he was on the individual connection. It was fight or flight, and Shadow was not the type to back down. Despite how his cool had been momentarily broken.

[DWN-024 > DLN-000-?]: You are playing a very dangerous game with your words, Proto Man.

[DWN-024 > DLN-000-?]: The sun can also burn.

Don't respond, don't reply in kind, do not exchange mirroring tones, don't take the dare, don't take the bait. Shadow had to keep reminding himself.

[silenceofthewave]

[Soundwave immediately sent over a datapacket.]

Knockout: Meet me here. Do NOT use a ground bridge. Leave no evidence.

[she looked up and squeaked at him. She’d gotten onto the Lost Light to see Nickle but escaped her and found him]

Hm? OH- you're Screamers kid. Why are you on the Peaceful Tyranny. Tarns gonna find ya.. Ill comm Soundwave..

@silenceofthewave

Your sparkling is on the Peaceful Tyranny with me. Dunno how they she got on but hurry up and get here before either Tarn or the Pet finds her.

[gabriel-patterson]

Hi!! I'm Lieutenant Moreno but you can just call me Luca :)

I think the Major had already given you a tour but if you need directions anywhere or any general info on the ship, you can consult the datapacket I've attached to this message.

Oh. And if you want strawberries, I recommend getting friendly with Lieutenant Harris - she grows them fresh for us!

Welcome aboard! Enjoy your stay!! :D

-//Lt. Moreno. L

[DTAPK:// ATTACHMENT: A Newbie's Guide to the SSV Berlin]

Top of the morning to you, lad.

Let me guess, you are one of those who are a ray of sunshine in the morning, aren't you?

Still, thanks for the attachments, I will give them a look-over when I have the chance. And noted, Lieutenant Harris. Where can I find this lady so I can turn on my charm before my reputation catches up to me?

/Patterson

[no-higher-authority-aboard]

What was, will be. What will be, was.

Roland examined the eight word datapacket warily.

He’d hit it with half a dozen antivirus programs. Malware detection. ONI-approved counter-intrusion software.

And nothing happened. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Nada.

By all intents and purposes, it was safe. Just some odd message from a crewmen to someone else that happened to get caught in the Infinity’s local Slush.

But—

Undid Iridium.

[jazzybot4]

I don’t know much about transformers but my first thought was more mars rover or transformers meeting stabby the roomba

Jazz was giggling. Sideswipe was snickering. The pair of them bent over a Rover with a roll of tape and a sharp thing did not inspire Ironhide to want to get any closer. Then Jazz pinged him the datapacket and Ironhide groaned. Stabby The Mars Rover tweeted out its first ‘victim’ later that afternoon, and Perceptor was unamused at the little drones *cheek*. His face inspired several thousand reaction images and three memes in two days. Nasa had never had more fun. Also, they got all sorts of fascinating samples.

[cipheramnesia]

Interlude

The bridge and most of the layout of the Lev Nicoburg was familiar to Serah - one of the many popular layouts on Central vessels, popular for compact and efficient space use, typical for small long haulers. Serah had a lot of time and a lot of ship manuals during her stint orbiting Nevamil.

Maryam nodded along at the detail about the drive projector and net set up and executed in a way that looked to Serah like she understood it all. Brief look at the main drive access, the quarters which bunked two a room, excluding the deep spacer single, because no one in earth civ wanted deep spacer nightmares. Corner kitchen, lockers, airlock, really advanced looking artificial chakras, plus twin scription grav cycle, and the latest whip power cells.

By the time she crashed onto her bunk while Maryam logged into the main tablet and pulled up the shipnet link for their phones, Serah felt exhausted and like her brain was swollen too big for her skull. Their couple small bags were parked in a corner. "Any mail for me?" She asked, feigning a dramatic yawn.

"Well," Maryam said. "Actually yes. For both of us." She tilted the tablet up from the narrow table folded out from the wall.

"I don't think I've seen a mail with that tag before."

"It means it should be opened immediately, with no delay." Maryam was doing the brow furrow thing again, which Serah was starting to associate with anything Maryam caught out of its proper place.

Serah rolled over on the cot, chin on hands. "Well, we wouldn't want to make the email tag angry, fire it up."

The link opened to a video, and Maryam pushed the chair a half meter back for Serah to also be able to see and hear the heavyset person on the tablet screen. Their hair was dark gray and pulled back severely, clear green eyes under sharp eyebrows, with a peculiarly elfin nose and jutting chin.

"Vanya Styer," they said, "Central Board of Directors, head of Major Treaty Enforcement branch. This information is for MTEG4 Weapons of Mass Destruction ageny, Maryam Patoudi and Intersystem Transit & Contraband grade one Seri Devi. Viewing by any other parties may be punishable by Central sanction." Their voice was deep and musical, their eyes bored holes in the screen.

Serah made a "yap yap" gesture with her hands and Maryam waved her off.

"Sera, you are removed from the ITCG1 position effective immediately. You are added to MTE G6 Weapons of Mass Destruction ageny, immediately with upgraded pay and bonus structure. You may review available benefits at your discretion."

"What?!" Maryam shouted, as Serah laughed.

"Maryam, you are promoted to G6 permanently, agency unchanged, and temporarily acting at G8 for the duration of this project, with option to make this permanent pending results. You will receive the upgraded G8 pay for the duration. You will have all command decision for the duration, barring Central override with standard psy exemption for Projection Temporal Displacement crew member."

Serah whispered, "What the fuck?" Maryam shushed her again.

"You are granted limited security clearance, enhanced for the duration, under Scorpion. Maryam, you may use the same code sign, Serah, yours will be assigned in the datapacket. Please add your personal fire code. You may be permitted additional access as needed for information specific to the new, uncategorized WMD." Vanya's eyes barely seemed to blink and their body didn't even move with breathing.

"Is this normal?" Serah whispered.

"It's fifty percent normal," Maryam whispered back.

"Which fifty percent," Serah asked and got shushed again.

"Per Scorpion, the project and unknown WMD have been assigned under a unique project title, Charybdis. Please review attached files, report and update any new information and I trust you will both complete Charybdis expediently."

The video went black, and closed.

END OF PART THREE

a story by @rox-and-prose and @cipheramnesia

Part 3: Inveterate Scars

The only sound in the corridors of Genghis Khan was the slow throb of a giant breathing. It was barely audible, always just below the floor or walls, nearly vibration alone at times. Sy thought it sounded a little like the rush of a monorail through a long tunnel, perhaps. Nothing echoed along its walls or wide empty corridors, his own voice barely came back, his running footsteps reduced to thuds. The silence was the same kind he remembered from university libraries, where every word slipped into racks of data cartridges or soft carpet, anywhere it could hide to escape notice.

The bloodstains on GK's floors were browning, but the pool on the bridge was still a darkening, sticky red. It reeked of sour copper, and he hadn't had time to clean. He felt like he'd been walking for hours, screaming at GK to show him medical supplies. He couldn't even remember what he said, what GK said. Most of the emergency kit was empty, discolored spaces where whatever passed for bandages or antibacterial cream had vanished over time, but he clutched several rolls of polyplast-like material and a few metallic tubes that sloshed.

"There is no certainty these materials are safe for Laika's use," GK advised, while Sy staggered his way through the floor switch into her room.

More blood, not as much as the bridge, but enough. Her skin almost seemed to have a blue tinge, terrifyingly pale compared to her usual brown and olive undertones. He dropped what he held and put his hand under her nose. Faint, still breathing. The cactus thorns and torn clothes he'd tried to pull her wound together with seemed to have held enough for the moment. Some of the rags were starting to soak through.

"How do I use these?"

"She appears stable. It may more prudent to avoid the potential aggravation of her injury rather than undertake the risk of incompatible medical procedures."

"She isn't stable, she's bleeding more than breathing. These," Sy waved the rolled sheets, "look like bandages. Are they bandages?"

"..."

"GK if you don't tell me what they are I'm gonna try and figure it out by myself."

"They do not- Your words do not describe them well. They are biologically static shell component. The fluid component will permit structural permeation without deterioration."

"This sounds a lot like a bandage."

"Her- Laika does not share a compatible structure with a Pilot. It may prove beneficial to her injury, or it may eject her soul from this shell, may it find a stronger shell one day."

"Well I think that's going to happen anyway if we don't try something."

"I am also attempting to locate assistance."

"What do you- Nevermind. Show me how to use the thingy."

"Biologically static shell component. You will need to activate it with biologic matter to prime the component to the recipient structure."

Sy stuck his hand in Laika's blood and smeared the bandage. "Please don't die yet," he said. "You can't leave me alone with GK." He took a deep breath and began to unwind the bandages.

In the ever expanding void of space, and interlace of structure and system, Genghis Khan reached in its own way for help, hungry and waiting.

[bytesnbolts]

@seekerofscience

The Newtron Recruitment Center, an unassuming fifth-rate ship, hovered at the center of the Fleet, where rebellion interlopers could be turned back by the Offensive Aerial Unit well before they reached their target. Solarflare would never understand how the rebels could be so misguided as to attack those trying to help them. How could they not wish to be saved? Did they wish to suffer until their deactivation?

Solarflare checked his HUD as he strolled through the halls of the third most important ship in the Newtron Fleet.The datapacket he had received from General Nanostorm said that they had three new recruits awaiting processing and an audience with their Salvation. As Adviser to their Empress and Savior, it was Solarflare's duty to be the first officer to meet their new additions. It was a duty he delighted in for he loved to root out information, especially that which other mechanisms hid away in their processors. What a thrill it was to rifle through the files, downloading and storing all their delectable, and confidential, information for his Empress’s uses.

The Adviser stepped through a door and into a clinical room. The room was not nearly as spartan as their medbay, but it was nothing like his data-storage banks. Under-stabilizer, cords ran along the floor between a set of medical slabs resting against the back wall. Monitors installed in the wall to the right beeped cheerfully and displayed a feed from the recruit’s processor.

The most garishly paneled mech Solarflare had ever seen was in stasis, strapped down tightly to the medical slab. Pink? Green? Bright yellow? All together? What an ugly paint-job! He almost hoped that the mech fought back against his destiny just to be rid of it, but that was unbecoming of an officer to think.

A drone looked up from where it was monitoring the recruit’s vitals to him. It let out a low hiss as it vented and gestured to the other slab.

“Yes, yes. Do make sure to get the chord in right the first time this time.”

Solarflare laid down on the slab, allowing himself to be strapped down in turn. He had nothing to fear of the drones; he was a good and loyal follower of their creator. He turned his helm to look at the other mech’s still frame as the drone planted the chord firmly and initiated the cortical psychic protocol.

“Now, let’s see who you are and what you could do for us, brother.”