mendanddefend_archive | Communication

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Communication

It's been three cycles since Bob realized what this place is. He's searching with a purpose, now, following the data-tracks to see where they converge, looking for where they come in and go out. Eventually, one of them has to lead to an input/output port.

This isn't going to be easy, even when Bob does find the I/O port. No one in his world has ever figured out a way to contact the User directly. And even if he manages it, there's no telling when, how, or if the User will answer back.

But what choice does Bob have?

The data flows are getting more concentrated. He has to be close. And then, suddenly, there it is--a dense stream of data, like an inverted waterfall, streaming out of the floor and into a floating receptacle to be directed onto the data-tracks.

It's fast and incredibly complex. Bob couldn't hope to manipulate the bits as they go by. But maybe...

Glitch: shield. His left hand morphs into a wide, circular platter--just wide enough to--yes! It blocks the data flow completely if he puts his arm into the stream. Bob pulls his arm out, then puts it back in again, in a beat as regular as any clock. He makes a pattern of thirty-two beats repeated over and over.

Off on off off on off off off. Off on off off off on off on. Off on off off on on off off. Off on off on off off off off.

01001000. 01000101. 01001100. 01010000.

H. E. L. P.

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Ironhide's been through a lot in his years of existence, to the point where some of the younger Autobots claimed that if anything could go wrong with a mech's systems, it's happened to him and he's survived it. That's not quite the case, but he's never bothered correcting anybody about it. He likes the reputation it gives him.

Kinda annoying when there's an actual glitch in his systems, though. Especially since his optics were working just fine the last time Ratchet checked him over, before they left Cybertron. Slag.

Well, he's just gonna shut that subsystem down, recycle the power, and see if it's still switching out on him when it comes back up. Not like he's got a whole lot else to do at the moment.

The data flow abruptly ceases. Several other data-tracks nearby cease transmitting as well.

Bob nearly panics. Did he break something important this time? Will the User be able to get anything out of this input at all?

A few very tense nanos later, the flow resumes, and so does Bob's signaling. He just hopes that someone's paying attention.

Edited 2007-11-09 05:15 (UTC)

Slaggit! All right, integrity check time. Physical connection layer test first on all available circuits. That's a regular disruption. Something might've gotten knocked out of place. He'll start the programming scan once he's ruled out a vibrating distortion.

The flow remains constant, but its character changes. There's a wave of blank data across every connection--Bob feels the energy pulse through him as well, spreading out through the entire system. Some kind of equipment test?

He continues the pattern. Off on off off on off off off. Off on off off off on off on. Off on off off on on off off. Off on off on off off off off...

All systems physically normal, which means the malfunction's programmatically generated. He's nowhere near the stage of travel isolation where he'd start spawning off processes just to keep himself company, so that implies something's been inserted. He's had diagnostic code loaded and left to run in the past, but Ratchet didn't so much as glance at his ports last time. This is something else. This is something that he's never detected before. Something that's been in there and dormant enough for him not to notice.

Were Ironhide a human, he'd take the opportunity to scowl and crack his knuckles, but he's not. All he does is trigger a full internal security sweep of all input-output code, active and stored, and immediate isolation of any subsystems found to be carrying any programming that isn't Autobot in origin.

Bob's heart leaps as he feels the familiar tingle of a security scan. Someone knows I'm here!

The feeling is short-lived, however. Suddenly the floor folds upward, forming four walls which close tightly around him. He has to pull his hand back quickly to keep it from getting caught between the closing seams.

Another panel slides into place just above his head, sealing him into a box just large enough for the Guardian to stand upright. He's in total darkness, and his scanners can't penetrate the walls.

...oops?

The darkness doesn't last long. There's light- not blinding light, but light- coming from every wall, and down from the ceiling and up from the floor. A bland, female voice speaks, communicating on a data level too fundamental to silicon life to need specific language:

"Intrusion code detected. Point and faction of origin unknown."

It's a voice. The first voice other than his own that Bob's heard in ten cycles. He fights to keep his own voice even as he replies.

"I am Guardian 452 of System Mainframe. I am stranded in this system and in need of assistance."

There are a few silent nanos of processing before the voice notes, "Mainframe was subdued by Autobot forces and rendered inoperable at the Battle of Tyger Pax. Stand by."

The light acquires a certain harsh quality, and the next voice that speaks is male, considerably lower and more menacing.

"You have ten nanoseconds to explain how Megatron managed to upload you into my systems without me noticing before I wipe your storage sector down to the particulate storage level, Decepticon code fragment."

At the first utterance, Bob is horrified. Mainframe is gone? Wiped out in some war? Is this some far future where sprites have been exterminated?

But before he has time to dwell on that, the second voice grabs his attention. "I don't know any 'Megatron.' I don't know how I got here, I just need your help to get out again!"

Edited 2007-11-09 06:04 (UTC)

"You're in one of my optics," the voice points out. "Someone had to get you out of Mainframe's storage after he was killed. Nobody else got close enough to the wreckage. If you think I'm going to help you get back to the 'cons with whatever layout data you've picked up since then, you'd better check your logic cycles for bit rot."

A beat.

"I'm in your what??"

"My. Left. Optic. Don't play dumb. The difference between Autobot and Decepticon code and design isn't that big."

'Autobot.' 'Decepticon.' He's heard those names before...

"You're Cybertronian? Are you telling me I'm inside a Cybertronian's computer system?"

"Too slagging right you're inside a Cybertronian. What in the Pit is going on here?"

No one's ever accused Ironhide of being a genius, but you could never call him dumb, either- and frankly, this codeling that he's talking to at the moment isn't reading at all like any self-operant program he's ever encountered. Starting with the fact that it can talk at all, for one thing.

"If I knew, I would tell you." He's in full panic babble mode now. "I swear to code, I have no idea how I got here, and I didn't even know where 'here' was until just now. I can't even read the data going through your system, much less use it. I had to resort to blocking the data flow just to get your attention! Please, I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to hurt anyone, I just wanna go home..."

"The only Cybertronian I have records of that went by the designation 'Mainframe' was one of the most dangerous Decepticons we've ever gone up against, and he's been dead since before any of us left Cybertron," says the voice. "If he's not home, then where is?"

"Mainframe isn't a Cybertronian," says Bob, immensely relieved despite his fear. "It's a system on Earth. You know Earth, right?"

Pleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyes...

"... aw, slag... How in Primus' name did you get all the way here if you're from Earth? We didn't get that kind of data feed off Ghost-1."

"I told you, I don't know," says Bob. "What's Ghost-1?"

"Human ship, designed from tech they got off Megatron," says the voice, sounding disgusted. "Went through a wormhole and wound up crossing our path. We're headed for Earth, but it's gonna be a while before we get there."

Edited 2007-11-09 06:40 (UTC)

Blink.

Blink.

"You haven't made it to Earth yet??"

"Wouldn't be going at all if it was up to me, but that's where the Allspark's ended up, so that's where we're going. You got any ideas for foldspace drives in mind? I'm all auds."

"...so not only am I in a strange system on the wrong side of the galaxy, I ended up in the past?? Great."

A beat.

"Uh, how long is 'a while'?"

"Estimated arrival time's something close to thirty-five Earth years," says Ironhide, whose tone manages to indicate that this is an annoyance, but not one of any kind of significance.

"Th--" Bob lets out a sudden breath like he's been punched in the gut. "Thirty-five years?!"

"Next to how long we've been traveling already that's nothing," says Ironhide. "That a problem?"

And we're right back to panic mode.

"Yes! That's longer than recorded history in sprite time! I can't last that long in here, I was going off my processor just being by myself for ten cycles!"

"Hnh. Now I know for sure you're not Decepticon. No way they'd code something that short-term."

Ironhide? Cynical about his tenants? Naaaah.

"You don't have a stasis lock mode?"

"A what?"

"Earth tech." The tone's loaded with contempt. "Never mind. You cycle all your active data into particulate storage and shut down the rest of your i-o feeds to save power. Soon as you get fueled up again you're back in the same state as when the lock came down. For you, I figure it's cycling pretty much everything into particulate storage."

"...we don't 'power down,'" says Bob after a moment. "The system powers down for upgrades and things, but we don't."

"Gotcha. I can allocate some storage space for you and shut down that sector for a while if you really think you can't hold out that long."

They left Cybertron close to ten thousand Earth years ago. Ironhide's still having trouble with the idea that anybody could consider thirty-five years a problem.

"...you can do that? Really?"

Bob's still feeling a little overwhelmed by all the new information coming at him, but he understands that, at least.

"No big deal. I've had to shut down more for a lot longer during the war."

"Ohthankyousomuch." Bob breathes a sigh of relief. "It's not going to damage my code, is it? Your system architecture is so weird, I'm surprised I can even survive here..."

"It shouldn't. It's a state transition. A mech who goes into stasis lock goes out and comes online without anything changing in between. Same for the particulate being allocated." The walls around Bob drop and the roof fades away. On the ground a dashed track of green light glimmers into life.

"This way to the storage sector." Pause. "You got a name, or is it Guardian?"

"No, that's my title," says Bob as he walks down the path. "My filename's Bob. And you are...?"

"Ironhide."

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