An Exploration Mission (Closed; Att'n Vallermoore)

[Victorious Decepticons]

StrongTalon was given an address which was said to be to the Intelligence Academy area, and a time to arrive. As he made the flight, he expected to find an academic-looking building of some class, likely away from non-governmental structures. Instead, the address took him to what appeared to be nothing but a somewhat-disused ventilation shaft.

He landed, and soon saw a few other guys looking around with either baffled or irritated looks on their faces. They apparently were other would-be cadets who had been given the same location and arrival time.

It seemed clear to StrongTalon that the Academy must be somewhere down the ventilation shaft, so he turned its massive valve. With a deep, metallic creak, its rust layer gave way and it opened up. He immediately noticed that the rust didn't appear to be natural, but more like it had been intentionally caused by the use of some sort of caustic coating. It was thin and even, and didn't harm the actual structure of the construct at all. Someone wanted this shaft opening to look old and neglected.

Carefully, he entered the shaft, noticing that it was too narrow for easy flying. He made use of the convenient industrial-style rung ladder, stopping to close the lid behind him before he got too far. Soon enough, though, one of the others from the surface opened it back up and began to descend, too. A third soon came, deciding that this was likely the way into the Academy, too.

Before long, what had seemed to be a vent shaft came to an end. It opened up just enough for four bots to stand next to each other, but all were too cautious to just come down at once. If it was a trap, they'd all be basically stuck if they were in a group instead of a row. StrongTalon, having gone first, went ahead and stepped off of the ladder into the flat area.

After looking around and finding no telltale signs of a hidden door, he began to knock on the walls and stomp carefully on the floor. He hoped to hear a hollow spot or something else that would indicate where the route actually was. To his dismay, he heard no difference in the metal, but he did notice what sounded almost like a mouse when he hit one of the walls. A mouse, on Cybertron? He examined that wall more closely.

There appeared to be a rust spot near the floor of that wall, and marks that looked like something might have been messing around there. He leaned over and gave the spot a good poke with his finger. Immediately, the sound of a large mechanism kicked in, and the wall began to rise. Behind him, the other two wannabe cadets gave some soft cheers, and he heard them descend from the ladder to follow him.

Ahead, a medium-sized brightly-lit hallway was revealed. Three doors were present. One was clearly marked "Welcome to the Intelligence Academy of Cybertron."

StrongTalon's eyes narrowed. Surely the real door wasn't the one that was so obviously marked! He tested the other two before even giving it real consideration. The other doors, however, were firmly locked. One even looked as if it might be fake. He finally put his hand on the handle of the plainly-marked door at the end and gave it a turn.

"Sometimes, things ARE exactly as they appear," a taped voice intoned. The unlocked door opened smoothly, revealing a large presentation room with about 20 seats waiting for the arriving cadets. There were already 10 cadets present, leaving 10 empty chairs with desks. StrongTalon didn't know if they'd come from another entrance, or had just been scheduled to arrive a bit sooner than he did.

StrongTalon and the other two cadets came in with just a bit of caution and chose their seats. Each desk had a tablet sitting on it, and the screens invited them to spend their waiting time looking through the orientation materials in the tablets or doing some of the pre-loaded fun little exercises. It was expected to take two hours for everyone to find the location, or at least, everyone who would turn out to be smart or lucky enough to locate it.

Before long, another two bots from when StrongTalon had arrived at the vent managed to realize that he must have found the right way. They had then figured out how he had gone, and arrived in the room. Some banging had been heard just beforehand, indicating that at least one figured that the right door just HAD to be one of the other ones.

At the head of the room, a presenter was making a show of adding notes about each of the arrivals. He looked displeased at the ones who he knew didn't figure anything out for themselves.

Soon, the initial presentation began.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elsewhere in the Foreign Intelligence Division

"Seems there may be a diplomatic situation arising," an agent said as he walked into the office of one of the higher-ranking supervisors. He handed over a chip. "There's a new political entity going by the name of 'Little Vallermoore.' They SAY they named it that because they admire Vallermoore, but our agents are telling us that a lot of the people there are from the original Vallermoore. It is our suspicion that they are actually dissidents against the current Vallermoorian government. Otherwise, why wouldn't they just stay on the original planet if they liked it so much?"

The chip contained what the task force currently knew about Little Vallermoore. There wasn't much information, except that the place had made it onto a Raid List and was believed to have a good amount of easily-raidable oil. The raiders, rather than ForIntel, were the ones who found out that the planet and its older namesake actually had no diplomatic connections as of yet.

The higher-ranking agent put the chip into a tablet and read it. "It looks like this place could be easy to annex," he said as he considered the possibilities. "Our records indicate that there is currently a diplomatic mission in progress between them and Vallermoore - our long-distance surveillance noted a diplomatic craft taking off from Vallermoore toward there not long ago. But I think you're right. If they were happy with their current government, they would have stayed home. They may be setting up some kind of trick against Clever One."

"In any case, they don't have a defensive pact yet, if this information is correct. I will forward this information to MilIntel. They can decide whether or not it's useful..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fists Headquarters


Robust did indeed seem to be a bit more robust than the average guy, with what seemed to be thickened armor all over and a slightly beefier set of blasters.

Soon, the fight began, and BlasterPower was glad she had taken the Military's blaster upgrade offer. It took more firepower to make progress against this guy, though luckily for her, his armor upgrades slowed him down enough to make it easier for her to dodge some of his attempts to hit her. He was a bit smarter than the last guy, though - he noticed that she had improved chest and head armor, and began to aim at the less-protected parts. If he could manage to immobilize one or more limbs, he would have more time to work on the more-critical areas.

Meanwhile, she noticed that Robust had a few lines of articulation in his neck, which would allow him more range of motion when turning his head, but which - depending on the specifics of the engineering - could make those spots a bit weaker than the rest. She decided to focus on trying to open up those spots enough to get a good blast through to his main command cable, or even cut his head off if the areas were weak enough.

[Vallermoore]

Robust turned out to be quite a bit stronger then the last guy, but she did manage by targeting his weak places to end up defeating him, blasting his head off in the process. But her body was now 75% damaged and sparking from several open wounds. She had turned the pain level down to 10%, but it was clear that at most, she might win one more fight and that was doubtful. The other bots looked at her happily, pleased that she was showing how well she could fight, like they had all done in the past back when MasterBlaster had ruled this gang.

*****
It turned out that even getting to the hidden academy was a challenge in itself. Once the cadets had successfully got inside, a Forintel agent who would in effect be their trainer told them "Since we defeated the Autobots outright in the Cybertronian Revolutionary War and began our mission of outright conquering the universe, Leader Megatron and High General Soundwave decided to make sure we found out what our enemies were planning and the details of their armed forces and command and control systems and other such things and for Foreign Intelligence, Forintel, was born. We were not as strong then as we are now, so knowing about our foes was very important. Soon enough you will start your first exercise-how to gain military information from a pony planet. The closer you come to becoming full Forintel agents, the more interesting your exercises will be."

This first exercise turned out to be foil-paper based, but it was their very first one on their very first day. The fun stuff would come later on.

How would you gain information about a high-tech sapient pony army that has weapons capable of destroying our bodies in combat? What is the best way to do it?

1) Send in a drone under cloaking to get the information that way?
2) Bribe someone?
3) Infiltrate with a sapient pony body?
4) Bug the right places?
5) Use torture?
6) Kidnap a general and take the infomation from his mind by downloading it into boards and reading the mind-data?

******
Little Vallermoore

So far Bright Eyes hadn't seen anything really bad about Little Vallermoore, but he noticed a Ponyist temple as he was driven by it in a limousine. Ponyism was technically legal on Vallermoore proper, at least for now, but it and other non Megatronist religions had lost most of their members mostly because other Gods and Goddesses who never showed up in the Physical Realm found it hard to compete with one who did. There were little "tells" that most Vallermoorians would not have noticed all that well that showed that this place was subtly different to Vallermoore. Civilians didn't carry weapons, for example. Other religions then Megatronism were clearly common here, and the fact that only police were openly armed, meant very likely that weapons were outright banned for all civilians. Bright Eves was in fact an agent of Vallermoore's Intelligence Service, with over 25 years of experience.

Unknown to the VIS, Forintel decided to send a few cloaked drones and a few agents in biological-looking bodies to find out what was happening, and one agent in a drone body managed to infiltrate the office of the human President of the Central Committee there, who was talking to the head of his Intelligence Service. "For years, we exiles have grown in number as Vallermoore has grown more and more-Megatronist and even more Decepticon in nature. We must play the long con until we can get that pony President here, and then we can send him to the afterlife for what he has done, in some way that won't directly point to us as the killers and bring a Vallermoorian space battle-fleet here to forcibly annex us."

[Victorious Decepticons]

Intelligence Academy

StrongTalon was irked at the choices presented to him, as if he had to select only one. After some thought, he selected two of them anyway. Infiltrate with the sapient pony body, AND put bugs in strategic locations. That way, he figured, even if the pony-bodied agent got busted or had to leave in a hurry, there would still be a chance of picking up information.

As he suspected, this was not a test, but a jumping-off point for the day's lesson. After all, it wouldn't make sense to give a test when nothing had been taught yet. The instructor explained that a cloaked drone might be detectable to such an advanced army, and since it would be a ForIntel mission, it would be important to be sure to avoid detection. Bribes were only good when the agency had already figured out who to bribe. Without that information, there was a surprisingly high chance of a bribe target turning their agent in instead of taking the money.

Infiltration made the most sense, but often, it was hard to get an agent into the highest circles right away. This was especially true in cases where the body used mimicked one of the target species. "It's far better," the instructor said, "to use a body that doesn't even look like what someone would consider to be a 'body." His eyes narrowed, but they gleamed with deceit. "Office equipment of all sorts, game decks, tablet computers...these are the kinds of 'bodies' we really like for missions like this. When the assignment ends, the 'machine' just stops working, and ends up in a discard pile somewhere. Then when the coast is clear, the agent transforms and walks away, with cloaking on if need be. Extrication happens at a remote location. The target never knows what hit 'em."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fists Headquarters

BlasterPower was already barely functioning, and she knew that this alone made victory unlikely. Even worse, as she went up through the ranks, her foes got stronger and stronger.

When the next challenger stepped up, he needed no introduction. Haula's massive body was unmistakable, with his apparent double armor and quad blasters, along with his permanently attached tow rigging for glider carts.

"It's almost a shame that you're in that state now," he said. "Bodies are hard to haul when they're so smashed up! Unaerodynamic, you know! But if you don't want to concede now, let's go ahead and make it official. I'll figure out how to get ya to the foundry!" He chuckled a bit, knowing he'd have this one in the bag.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Foreign Intelligence Office

If they had been infiltrating a Decepticon operation, the discovered information would have gone straight to the highly classified files, likely never to be seen again except by a few. However, these supposed Vallermoorians were not only NOT Decepticons, they were clearly traitors to their Decepticon-allied government! There was not only no protection for them against nsrking, but instead, a duty for the agents to warn their ally of the intended treachery.

The head of the project activated his communicator, and entered the number that the agency had listed as the direct line to Clever One...

[Vallermoore]

Fists Headquarters

BlasterPower decided to fight to the body, even though she knew she would lose, as she didn't want to seem cowardly and she had a new body to transfer to, so it was not to the death. She barely managed to scratch Haula's armor before her body was blasted apart, and she found herself in her new body which at once revved to life. She gave a deeper-then-normal bow to Haula who had vanquished her. "Now we know where you stand in this gang, and it's not at the very bottom," Buzz told her. "Make a Save and put it in a panel of yours so if the worst should happen and you die before getting another body, I can bring you back. It'll likely be a few days before we raid again. Do you have somewhere to live yet?"

Foreign Intelligence Office

The faux Vallermoorians were not in the least bit Decepticon in body or in nature-in fact, they deeply despised everything Decepticon, and wanted to assassinate a Decepticon ally of a friendly nation, so it was decided, after asking General Soundwave first, to tip off Clever One. Clever One decided to ask them "If I was to go and invade that little moon and incorporate it into Vallermoore proper, using Vallermoore's battle fleet to do so, would I have the OK of the Decepticon Government to do so?" Assuming he got their OK, he would set about tooling Vallermoore up for an all-out conquest of so called "Little Vallermoore" to turn it into a colony, and once the world was strongly under control, Megatronist acolytes would be sent in to convert the survivors. He was not asking for the direct or even the indirect help of Cybertron, just it'[s permission to go there and really kick some Little Vallermoorian ass, the way Cybertron would do if some bots started acting like Autobots on a moon and called it "Little Cybertron."

The pony President was imagining everything from setting up a Vallermoorian Genocide Battalion, staffed from those on Vallermoore's Death Row who would be offered freedom if they joined it, to a couple of new battle cruisers. He used his tail to stroke his metallic-looking but furry Decepticon Seal cutie mark, and his horn lightly glowed.

Intelligence Academy

Soon enough there would be the first real test of simulated intelligence gathering-and the bottom two bots who got the lowest score would have to leave the Acadamy. This test would be a practical test, simulating a part human-part pony planet. Only later still would the cadets do things like infiltrating a real changeling hive to steal the Queen's personal food source without getting caught-the humans and ponies here were androids, but it was realistic enough. They were trying to find out about a secret (in this case fictional) new weapon that could blow up Decepticons even if they were in robot mode.

[Victorious Decepticons]

Fists Headquarters

Haula was impressed that the newcomer didn't chicken out even though her defeat was inevitable. Gang members who would fight to the end were always sought after, because one person holding off an army or similar threat could allow the others to escape. Unlike in some military organizations, "heroes" were quite welcome among Decepticon gangs as long as they didn't go off half-cocked and get themselves killed for nothing (or drag the others into a futile battle for nothing).

BlasterPower's performance put her right in the center of the gang's rank structure, below Buzz and Haula but above Robust and the other guy. She would be able to "fly free," which is to say, she wouldn't be stuck hauling a glider-trailer as a matter of course. She also wouldn't be stuck cleaning oil tanks or Haula's hold. However, there would be times when there was a big enough raid haul that she'd end up helping to pull a trailer, and if combat broke out, she would be expected to fully engage.

Buzz congratulated her, though he looked a bit disappointed when she said that she, indeed, did not yet have a place to stay. They would have to figure something out, whether that simply meant staying in the headquarters building until they'd done a raid and she could set herself up with a home, or something else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Foreign Intelligence Office

The Decepticons were flattered to be asked for permission for Vallermoore to invade Little Vallermoore, not really expecting a sovereign nation to do that! Still, they hid their surprise and quickly passed on the message to Leader Megatron.

After Megatron's ego swelled even bigger than usual, he responded in the affirmative, despite secretly wanting to invade Little Vallermoore himself and turn it into a giant slave-worked oil field. "I'm sure you will give them the treatment they deserve, and not get any ideas of them being equals or merely misguided brethren," he radioed Clever One. "If I do see anything like that, know that the Decepticon Military will put those losers fully in their places, along with anyone who wants to elevate them." Megatron knew full well how much trouble it was when corrosive ideas like that took hold in a nation. It was never long before the original losers ended up running the place - usually, straight into the ground...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Intelligence Academy

For now, it seemed like the goal for the exercise was to find a "superweapon" on a planet with both humans and ponies on it. StrongTalon figured that this would be a piece of cake.

Before the exercise began, the cadets were given sheets of information about the planet's military development program, key personnel, and top-secret installations. The top-secret installations were the most likely places to find either the weapon or important information about it. Getting in, though, required passing several biometric sensors - at least, if one were to go in the usual way. The cadets were encouraged to find other ways to get in, or to use subterfuge...or worse...to get the required matching parts to show the sensor devices.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It didn't take long for a few cadets to decide that it would be best to kill an authorized person and then use his/her eyes and fingers to show the retina and fingerprint scanners at the doors. They set off to waylay one of the hapless actors and commit the needed murder and subsequent butchery, showing quite a bit of eagerness about the whole idea.

Another chose the most laid-back way possible. He applied for a job as a janitor at the facility he considered to be the most likely target. If he got it, he'd have access to the main doors, and then he could just do the job until someone with access to the right inner classified area slipped up. Since the access person was a mere mortal, the slip-up would be inevitable. He'd just have to be there at the right time, when the "tired worker" left the door ajar or otherwise broke security protocols, and then slip in. If caught, he'd play dumb and say he thought he was supposed to clean that room since it was open now.

StrongTalon's idea was also murderous, but not as gruesome as that of the first group. He would find out who had access to everything, bump him off and hide the body, and then use his changeling ability to make himself into a copy of that guy. With enough precision, he would then be able to just use the biometric access sensors like the real guy would have. However, before he did this, he'd have to study the way the original person acted. Otherwise, his behaviors would give him away as a fake.

To get close enough to study the proper person, who was designated as a "military general" in this scenario, StrongTalon pretended to be a new driver for the general's car. It was common in most militaries for high-ranking officers to have drivers, and fortunately for StrongTalon, this particular "military" hadn't been too picky about which soldier did the job. Some trickery was needed in order to keep the real designated driver from being able to show up, but once that was done, all he needed to do was look the part and be able to drive the car. As the chauffeur, he would get a close look at the general's eyes (to copy them for the retina scanners) as he held the door open for him. Then, he could dust the back of the car for the general's fingerprints (to later copy them for the fingerprint scanner) later, while he was "cleaning" the car for its next trip.

Other cadets had other plans. Once the signal was given, everyone set off to carry out what they thought would be the winning strategy and tactics.

[Vallermoore]

"I guess for now I can give you a wedge and you can use a room at our HQ until our next raid. When we do another raid, you really should buy a house with your share. After that, unless it's treason, you can buy whatever you want with your share from our next raids. New bodies for use as spares, games, furniture, blasters, all sorts of things," Buzz told BlasterPower. "It's good that you fought literally to the body-Haula clearly thinks so, even though he'll have to buy a small new piece of armor as you managed to inflict a small wound on him. Bravery is certainly a Decepticon virtue. One day you might have to lose a body to let the rest of us and our loot get away safely. We all know you are an asset to the Fists. You might wonder-why not just take a house by force? Because then you have either a landlord or another gang or the members of a Line showing up to blast your ass."

*****
Clever One wanted Megatron's OK so he didn't face Decepticon ire or much worse. Spies and non-sapient droids were sent to Little Vallermoore, and troops were made ready. Soon enough Bright Eyes returned. Vallermoore didn't have anything like the numbers of troops-or starships-that the Decepticons did, but they had a battle fleet of fifteen major ships and some smaller ones, and could press some other ships into battle by putting blasters on them. Soon enough 150,000 soldiers were ready to go into battle in the first wave. As an incentive, they were promised 80% of the loot of this moon, 10% going to Vallermoore's treasury and 10% going to Clever One personally. There were human regiments, pony regiments, and even a single changeling regiment. Babies and small children on Little Vallermoore were not to be targeted, nor were those who genuinely gave in, but all resistance was to be squashed hard. Very hard. Soldiers had an armband for what was to happen if they died-red for cremation, and green for burial. Generals and Megatronist acolytes helped boost morale. A small ship with a brand new AI (that had no time to gain sapience) was sent in as a trick, and the government of Little Vallermoore was told Clever One was on board it. When it was attacked by Little Vallermoore's only space worthy capital ship and blown up, Clever One announced from his flagship "Vallermoorians, attack!" and the fight was on.

The one capital ship was destroyed quickly, but Little Vallermoore's ground forces would still be a challenge. However, Little Vallermoore's government had long ago disarmed their civilians, unlike Vallermoore itself, that only disarmed the crazy, and those in prison or under arrest, and Ponyism and Christianity were their main religions.
*****
Intelligence Academy

StrongTalon's idea worked pretty well, and he also got some other information by changing shape to a bird, as he was a Changeling and using the ability had not been banned, flying into a room, then taking the shape of a non-sapient computer. Luckily for him, these actor bots had their changeling detectors turned off during this particular exercise as they were light years away from any known changelings. He would not, as it turned out, be one of the bots who came last in this particular exercise. After a few other such exercises he and a number of other cadets were sent to a real Changeling Hive to steal the Queen's personal food source without either getting caught or killing the Changeling Queen. They would act on their own, but if captured none were to snitch on the others.

[Victorious Decepticons]

Fists' Headquarters

BlasterPower settled into her room at headquarters, and couldn't help but be wowed by her new life. Not only did she not have to worry about cops, nor growing old and decrepit, she was with a gang that figured that her share of their next haul would be enough to buy a house with! Now this was living the life. To think that at home, they thought a good life was working for 30-40 years and then retiring once too old to enjoy it, she thought to herself. While some seemed satisfied with that, it was never for her. She'd also seen plenty of people of her own class grow old and never manage to have enough money, even with their old-age pensions. The fact that they grew old had also bothered her. Now, if a part of hers got worn out, she could just go buy another and put it in. For now, at least, she saw no downsides to the robotic life. It was all upside, with the promise of great wealth and eternal life before her like shining beacons. With a sigh of contentment, she laid back and began her defrag sequence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Little Vallermoore

It was to the traitors' dismay that Clever One was found NOT to be on the ship they thought he was on. When the Vallermoorian space fleet showed up soon after they fired on that ship, they knew they had been found out - and set up. They had walked right into Clever One's trap and provided clear casus belli for war.

The ground forces were indeed a challenge, and the Vallermoorian forces had to slog through this military opposition and keep their morale up despite taking losses. However, thanks to Little Vallermoore's ill-thought decision to disarm its own populace, they didn't have to worry about much opposition from citizen militias, guerilla fighters, and other such irregulars. There were a few criminals with guns - some of them being powerful weapons - but these outlaws were far from in love with their own government. In fact, a few of them soon defected to Vallermoore's side, offering guide services and intel that would otherwise have been very hard to get.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Intelligence Academy

StrongTalon was amazed that mere cadets would be sent on a real mission. Usually, newbies would at least have to graduate from the general academy first. However, the Decepticons did things differently, and in this case, quite a bit differently than he expected.

After being briefed about the destination planet and its general conditions, they were given dossiers about the hive they were to target. This hive obviously wasn't the most secure, since it seemed that it had already been penetrated by full-fledged ForIntel agents at some recent point.

Many of the cadets chose to use android forms that looked like changelings in their natural states, figuring that this way, they had the best chance of blending in with the natives. One, however, chose a pony body - and, hidden in its flank, a glowing fabric that would look just like a cocoon if he were to get it out and wrap it around itself. The sack had a few very sticky paper-backed strips attached to it, so he could peel away the backing from a strip and stick it - and himself - up in a strategic spot at any time. He figured that if he pretended to be cocooned prey, he would be ignored when he wasn't moving. Then, whenever it was strategic to get closer, he'd just pop down and set himself up in a new spot. Eventually, he'd be right in the queen's chamber...if things went right.

For now, StrongTalon's plan was to imitate one of the royal guards in order to gain access to the queen's chamber, and then wait for a strategic moment to heist her food supply. However, as he watched the other spy prepare, he kept his idea in mind as well. It would be easy enough for StrongTalon to just pretend to be part of the queen's loot itself, at least until no one important was looking, and then turn into something like a big transport and fly away with it all.

Unlike in the dream he had earlier - and, he noticed, unlike in the preparations of a few of the spies - StrongTalon made one preparatory step that didn't involve a special body. He made sure to equip himself with an internal anti-love-raiding device. While his own changeling magic might offer some protection against that, he wanted to be as certain as possible that the changelings couldn't just raid him to death if he was discovered.

[Vallermoore]

Fists Headquarters

After putting a wedge under the door of the room she was in, just in case, BlasterPower felt very contented. She didn’t need to worry here about the police arresting her, or old age leading to her eventual death. If a body part of hers got blasted in some fight or just started acting up, she could buy a new part as soon as she had the money. After a defrag she brought a game or two from the proper store, ran them through her antivirus, again, just in case, and found the games great fun. In the past, before safety features had been installed, games had been the equivalent of hard drugs in Decepticon society, starving more then one bit to death.

A few days later Buzz decided to go out on another raid a few days before he normally would have done, as he wanted his latest gang member to get a house. He flew out to check out a few planets. One was lifeless and had a large amount of oil within it, but there was a problem. By night it was -150C, so heaters would be needed, but the day side was as hot as the centre of the Great Pit. The closer they worked to dawn, the better the temperature was, but the higher the chance was of getting caught by the sunrise and cooked.

Then there was another planet without those problems but it was ICC territory, and another planet that was a super advanced pony planet with mainly clean energy.

********
Little Vallermoore

Clever One decided to encourage the defecting criminals with an offer of amnesty for all their crimes except sex crimes and grossly violent crimes against those aged 15 years old or younger if they would help with information or even if they just served in the forces whilst the war was still raging. The fact that Little Vallermoore had disarmed it's non-criminal citizens meant that there was no resistance movement or jihadi-type movement popping up behind the lines. It was still quite hard to take the place-it's soldiers and police, especially the police, fought very hard, and Clever One decided that when the war was over he would pay Decepticon Arms plenty of oil to give those soldiers who had lost their limbs new ones. It took a month to fully subdue the moon-after all, Clever One only had human, pony, and changeling soldiers, not war robots, to do it, but at last it was conquered and a gleeful Clever One watched an oversized Vallermoorian War Banner be raised on the foe's parliament building.

Some of the former government had died fighting or escaped, but three human and two pony members were taken alive and brought to him chained up. "You called your planet Little Vallermoore, and what did you do with it? You disarmed the civilians, which made your conquest so much easier. You banned Megatronism, and taught your civilians to be soft and weak and not solve their own problems. I didn't really care-conquering the universe is what Cybertron does, not Vallermoore. But then you tried to have me killed. How did you think a Megatronist would react to that? Now your nation is part of Vallermoore proper, and for the next twelve months it's tax rate will be doubled to cover our costs. For those who didn't fight against us, they will not be harmed unless they revolt against us or complain. Until they can be trusted, they will remain disarmed. Those who fought against us will be sold as slaves to whoever in the universe wishes to buy them. As for you, you will be publically hanged now for the trouble you caused, right in front of me, and a strict governor, a pony named Hard Ass, will be appointed." He watched as they were dragged onto a gallows and strung up.

*****
Changeling Hive

StrongTalon knew how to act perfectly like a changeling and helped himself to some love from a cocooned mare that was there for the use of the average changelings. He also knew hive protocol and where the "red lines" were.

Meanwhile, a bot named Bright Spark was doing well in a fake cocoon up until the changelings taking him to the royal chambers decided to steal some love. He decided to let a bit of his genuine love out, and that got him brought at once to the private bedroom of the grass-green Changeling Queen. She took a few sips of his love and much to his relief, left the room, enabling him to steal the cocoon hanging from her ceiling, containing, unusually, a griffin. He silently radioed the others, feeling very pleased with himself. He just had to get the cocoon out of there now.

[Victorious Decepticons]

Fists' Headquarters

Given the options, Buzz figured that the planet with the extreme climate was the best bet if they were to raid. Nothing would be actively shooting back, unlike at the advanced planet, and he wouldn't have to tangle with the ICC. He did wonder if the advanced planet had any oil left on it, though. Sometimes, when a planet became a "post petroleum society" by its own will, it was willing to sell off some of its remaining oil for ultra-cheap prices. After all, oil was worthless to a society that no longer had any use for it.

After returning to Cybertron, Buzz decided to radio the super-advanced pony planet and see if they were willing to sell their oil for cheap. If their price was lower than what it'd cost to get to the extreme-climate planet and back, it would actually be more profitable to just buy from them than it would be to go to the other place. Plus, they wouldn't have to worry about beating the arrival of ridiculous heat or cold.

Buzz smiled to himself as he picked up his communicator and began to try to find out who on the pony planet had the authority to do their end of such a deal. There had been another gang - or more accurately, a syndicate - that had been known for being willing to make deals when it was more profitable to do so: The IOPC. Could the Fists someday be as big and powerful? At this time, he could only wish. Still, the tactic of taking the most profitable route made sense, so he began making calls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Little Vallermoore

Clever One had no trouble unloading the newly-captured slaves. Many Cybertronian slavers and mine operators came to his market, all armed with enslavement chips to ensure that there would be no fighting coming from the captives after they were purchased. Normally, of course, these buyers would have preferred to get clones that were born and raised to be slaves, because the clones were properly trained and not just bio-droids under chip control. They surely wouldn't bother to go to some other planet to pick up rebellious beta versions. However, Leader Megatron had put the word out that maybe they would like to "help" Vallermoore by taking a few each, and at least some had responded.

A few other planets had sent buyers to the market, too, and they happily took any remaining POWs. However, since they didn't have enslavement chips to keep them under control, many of them endured slave revolts in the future. Some, however, did manage to keep an acceptable control of their purchases, though they did so using the low-tech methods of torture and brutality rather than anything fancy like chips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Changeling Hive

Bright Spark thought he had it made as he got out a special strip of fabric that provided some visual cloaking and threw it over the stolen cocoon. However, only seconds later, a large contingent of royal guards barged in through all of the entrances to the room, training weapons on him. The queen's voice was soon heard: "There! That's the Decepticon!! Capture him!!"

The queen had instantly recognized the taste of Decepticon love, which she had only sampled once before at a gathering of the planet's changeling rulers and higher aristocracy. It had been provided by the queen of a hive much richer than her own, and only in tiny amounts. Despite the small size of the sip, she had never forgotten the flavor or its metallic aftertaste.

Chaos ensued upon the entrance of the royal guards, who quickly sucked enough love out of BrightSpark to disable, but not kill, him. He was quickly cocooned, and the cocoon he was trying to steal was uncovered. As most of the royal guards and the queen watched the new cocoon get installed where the other one had been, one royal guard took the old cocoon out of the room as if to put it in some safe location elsewhere.

No one questioned this royal guard, since word had gotten around that a Decepticon had been discovered in the hive. Of course he would take the griffin, rare and precious, to the guard quarters or some other safe spot. It wasn't until he got near one of the hive entrances and fired his jets that anyone realized that this "royal guard," too, was a Decepticon.

"Noob," StrongTalon thought as he flew away with the loot, leaving Bright Spark to try to find his own way out of the jam he'd gotten himself into. StrongTalon knew that the small android bodies the others had used didn't hold much Energon, so if all else failed, Bright Spark would run out of fuel and automatically mind-transfer back to Cybertron in just a day or two. That said, he wouldn't have been worried if this wasn't the case. He was unconcerned about his competitor. Still, ForIntel wouldn't want to allow the android body technology - or the mind-code now within it - to remain in hostile hands long enough to be reverse-engineered. An extrication mission would surely be mounted, this time by experienced agents, if it was deemed necessary.

Once at a safe distance, StrongTalon silently radioed the others to let them know that he had the loot - and that now, one of their cadets was stuck in a cocoon instead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The other cadets considered trying to get Bright Spark back, but they all knew that the Loot that was the goal of the exercise was the griffon and not him. Having all of the "loyalty" to each other that spies were known for, they stealthily headed for the exits, considering the mission over (and for them, failed). ForIntel would have to send experienced agents to get the last one back.

While cold on the part of the cadets, this was also smart. By now, the entire hive was on alert and looking for Decepticons everywhere. The real royal guard was at every entrance to the queen's chamber, and their trigger fingers and love-raiders were both itchy. It would require skilled agents to penetrate this higher awareness level and the security that went with it. Of course, the alternative of just sending in the military was also an option, now that the cadet test mission was complete. Either way, the cadets weren't either skilled enough nor strong enough to mount an assault on the queen's chamber now that everyone was ready for them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

StrongTalon soon arrived at the rendezvous point with the still-cocooned griffin. He handed it over to the mission commander, and stood proudly as he was registered as the successful infiltrator. What would happen to the griffin, he didn't know.

Not long after, the other spies began to arrive. Some seemed dejected, and others frustrated. Many showed a combination of both emotions. They definitely all knew that they hadn't won this exercise. At least they had managed to avoid being followed - no changeling forces appeared after them.

[Vallermoore]

Little Vallermoore

Allthough the Gendyme's Company was no more after they made the fatal attempt to try to enslave the Decepticon race, many smaller companies and the Decepticons themselves had filled the void. Also, Megatron Himself approved of Clever One's action and suggested-and even a suggestion from Megatron was very close to a command-that the Decepticon mine operators themselves come and buy a few, and some did, with enough slave chips to subdue their new slaves. Humans, aliens and some sapient ponies also came to buy the slaves but without chips, several would have slave revolts and in one case, the revolt was successful. Clever One ordered that Megatronism on Little Vallermoore was mandatory and allowed blades and bows for now. Firearms were temporarily banned for those Little Vallermoorians that had surrendered without a fight, but with a promise that it would be reviewed within the year, and that as soon as it wouldn't lead to a big revolt, they could carry guns legally. Clever One wanted to rule Little Vallermoore with the same lack of laws as Cybertron, but doing that too fast would lead to either utter chaos or another rebellion. For now, there were only acolytes as no Priest had been sent yet from Cybertron.

Decepticon Arms would get a lot of oil for giving Vallermoorian soldiers new limbs that were as good as their old ones and for healing the paralyzed. For those who were dead, those who had before death said that they wished to be cremated were placed on pyres, those who didn't were buried. After thanking his soldiers and praising their victory, Clever One made it clear that this was a special case and that Vallermoore was not trying to conquer the universe and was not a rival to Cybertron just because it took one small moon whose rulers tried to kill him. He left a strict pony named Hard Ass in command.

Changeling Hive
**********
Bright Spark thought that by letting a bit of his love get stolen he would get instant access to the Queen but that didn't work out as he planned. Instead, the Queen knew what it was because she had once been invited to the Hive of the richest and most powerful Queen on the planet, whose Hive was the planet's superpower. The Queen of that superpower Hive liked to show how wealthy and powerful she was, and she had served up thimbles containing Decepticon love, with a good flavor but a very metallic aftertaste. In seconds, the changelings had drained the Deception's love and in effect knocked him offline. He was hung up in the Queen's room, and StrongTalon stole the griffin with success. Later, he would be openly praised by the mission commander. "Go on this well, and you may well be one of the relatively few cadets who successfully graduate and get to enjoy a Forintel career. The griffin was to be taken several miles away and freed as griffins were warriors and had an honor code that was a bit like the Decepticons.

Bright Spark had to be rescued by the Decepticon Military, the Queen very quickly giving him up rather than having her Hive possibly destroyed, and when he was brought online he was informed that he had failed, but he could try again to get into Forintel in another fifty years, assuming he was still alive then.

The Queen got a lot of kudos once she had made her guards give her the Decepticon love in exchange for extra rations of pony love, and the Queens of most other Hives envied her for her great wealth.

*****
It turned out that buying the oil was the cheapest and easiest thing to do, as raiding it would have been more expensive. It was not that long before BlasterPower went house-hunting. "If you somehow get into dire trouble that seriously threatens your life call us-and remember that many Decepticons are conbots, so be careful," Buzz told her. Most gangs would help each other if need be, and calling them was not seen as narking.

[Victorious Decepticons]

Little Vallermoore

Life under Hard Ass was harsh and unforgiving, and many were executed or thrown into work camps for things like complaining about the new government. However, those who made sure to obey the new rulers without trying to undermine them did okay, though there was a general lack of entertainment and other fun. Perhaps, they hoped, they would eventually get a new governor if they didn't cause any trouble.

Overall, those on Little Vallermoore weren't at all happy to have been conquered by the real Vallermoore. After all, they had left their home world to try to operate under their old system and forget about the new one - only to have the new one come and kick its way in! Clever One's propaganda department did all it could to turn those negative feelings against the former prime minister of Little Vallermoore. It constantly reminded everyone that if he hadn't tried to kill Clever One, the war might not have happened. They made sure to say it "might" not have, because if their prime minister had been stupid enough to try an assassination against Clever One, it was likely that he would have done something else along those lines at some other time.

Decepticon Arms was doing so well that it had to hire more people to handle the sudden demand. Its owner was seen grinning constantly as its production lines produced lots of biological arms, legs, tails, and even a few prosthetic unicorn horns. All of these were sent to Vallermoore, where biological doctors did the actual installations.

Vallermoore's once-disabled recent vets were pleased to find that Decepticon Arms replacement parts weren't like the usual artificial limbs. They had good sensation (though not quite as exquisite as biological parts), hands or hooves that could pick up and move objects as well as the originals, and to the recipients' grand delight - extra strength. The only downside was that the full sensation required showing exposed metal or paint, because the realistic-looking silicone covers had no sensors of their own. This made it so that the covers felt like wearing gloves. Versions for ponies had an even stronger sensation-dulling effect since a pony limb had to be covered in hair in order to look legit. Many Decepticon Arms customers were therefore soon seen with painted metal parts as they decided that the covers weren't worth the loss of sensation.

The only Decepticon Arms parts that didn't really replicate or surpass the function of the originals were the unicorn horns. The company didn't know how to replicate the magical abilities of the real horns, and this rendered their copies to the status of props. Fortunately, the real unicorn horns would grow back over time, which partially made up for the lack of usefulness of the artificial ones.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cybertron

BlasterPower looked through several real estate ad chips, but didn't find any existing houses that were both within budget and to her liking. However, one ad finally caught her eye. It showed a small, blasted-up, rusty house complete with a dirty-looking scrounger in the process of swiping a panel off of the side of it. The property was a bit small, but not as tiny as one in an urban area. It was located in a suburb on the outskirts of Decepticon Headquarters.

"RIP THIS HOUSE DOWN AND HAVE ME BUILD YOU A NEW ONE!" The ad's headline blared. Below, the ad suggested possible new builds: A similarly-sized house, only new and better-made, a two-story house that would fit on the land, or a one-story house that had a basement underneath. It went on to note that custom builds were also possible. The price it listed as a "possible cost" was just slightly higher than a typical used house (in good condition) of that size would be, though a disclaimer made sure to note that the final cost would depend on options chosen.

BlasterPower decided to call the number and take a look at this place. She knew that this meant that she'd have to endure a hard sell for hiring the builder, though if she truly chose to go for it, that wouldn't be a problem. She also wanted to take a good look at this neighborhood. The house in the ad had obviously been blasted, in what appeared to be a heated battle! Was that typical of the area, or did the prior owner just piss off the wrong person? The fact that the advertiser didn't bother to crop out the scrounger also gave her pause about the general area. Still, only an in-person look could show for sure what the neighborhood was like and whether she should consider settling there, or keep looking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Intelligence Academy

Now, there were far fewer cadets left than had started. While only the bottom two were kicked out after the Changeling Hive Challenge, the prior tests and challenges had weeded out several others.

StrongTalon was proud when the instructor showed a video of him successfully coming back with the cocooned griffin, proving that he had scored the highest in the last challenge. However, he soon had to pay attention to the next segment of his training.

"By now, we've weeded out pretty much everyone who basically fails at spying in general. The next few sessions will involve classroom work and sim exercises, because it will take more than gut instinct to succeed at this new, more involved, level of espionage." The instructor informed them.

He went on: "We typically prefer to embed ourselves in enemy locations not by pretending to be the target's species, but some by appearing as the sort of machinery that he'll keep on him or in his office. However, there are times when this isn't enough. Unfortunately, protocol demands that I teach you about imitating enemy machines before I get into the fun part: Infiltrating as an apparent member of the target's species. Alas, the higher command insists that cadets are not ready for the fun and dangerous missions of bio-imitative infiltrators. So..." he almost sighed... "we will be learning about how to do things like imitate a general's cell phone, or music player, or printer."

"Now, let me make one thing clear: Imitation of enemy machinery is the oil-and-coolant of Foreign Intelligence. No species worth bothering to spy on goes around without machines, and almost none of them realize that machines can be alive. Thanks to our body-construction capabilities, this gives us almost infinite 'ins' into their operations. We can do everything from directly listen to their conversations by being their phones, to getting a copy of all of their top-secret documents by being their copiers. We can even do assassinations by being the device they put in their shirt pocket, and then letting off a 10,000-volt blast. So, don't think of it as an 'inferior' type of work. It's important. It just takes more skill to do a species-imitating assignment."

The cadets would learn that the species-imitating assignments weren't given to anyone with less than 10 years of field experience doing machine imitations, and usually, at least 25 years of that field experience. This, it was explained, ensured that they would have a chance to learn all about the cultures of various planets and how biologicals there acted. Not only that, as "simple printers" and similar equipment, they wouldn't have to worry about giving themselves away due to cultural unfamiliarity in the meantime. Once someone had that 10-25 years of experience, IF they were still interested in imitating the actual people at various targets, they would go to a special Advanced Academy to learn these high-end arts of espionage.

For now, there would be classroom lessons and sims not only on how various office equipment and electronics worked, but more importantly, on how one was to sneak into position in such a body - and, when the assignment ended, how to get oneself back out. Only later would there be any field exercises or actual training missions.

[Vallermoore]

Little Vallermoore

After six months or so under the authoritarian and deeply unpleasant Governor Hard Ass, a less unpleasant governor who happened to be a human was appointed. Taxes were lowered-keeping them high for too long brought diminishing returns, and most forms of fun and entertainment were allowed again. The number of executions were greatly reduced, and the subjects-for subjects was what they now were-were assured that one day in the not-so-far future even their firearm rights would be restored to them as long as they behaved themselves. For now, a blind eye was largely turned to Christianity and Ponyism as long as the priests didn't stir up trouble.

Back on Vallermoore Decepticon Arms was doing extremely well. Despite it's name, it was not at all being the slightest bit treasonous, as the arms-and legs and horns were artificial limbs that-apart from the horns-were far better then normal artificial limbs as they were almost as good as real limbs-and had extra strength. The horns would grow back within months and with them the unicorn magic. Clever One valued his soldiers that had risked everything for him, and many did not have to be discharged as medically unfit. There was nothing to be done for the dead but to give them decent burials or cremations depending on what they had wanted when alive, and sadly there were a small number of soldiers that had mental problems and of course could not be debugged. As they were allowed to (partly) loot the place, quite a few soldiers got rich out of it, and several medals and promotions were handed out including one Star of Vallermoore First Class given by Clever One personally.

*****
Intelligence Academy

With the obvious failures weeded out, it was time to practice what most Decepticon spying was-pretending to be printers, phones, computers and other such equipment. StrongTalon made sure to do well at that as well-very much wanting to become a proper Forintel agent so he could be useful to the Decepticon Nation.

*****
BlasterPower flew over to the location which was in a lower-middle class area of Cybertron. There were a few Scroungers here, but not large numbers of them and they were looking for weaker prey then someone in a brand-new body who could damage them if attacked. There were also some scroungers with a small s. The builder bot went by the name of HouseProud and told her that he used to work in the Engineering Division when he was in the Decepticon Military. He seemed legit, but of course he was a Decepticon, and the only Decepticons who were normally honest were Debuggers (for everyone's safety) scientists (lying in experiments helped noone) and most mechanics (so angry mobs didn't blast them or worse.)

[Victorious Decepticons]

Intelligence Academy

After many lessons, in which they learned where each common type of electronic equipment would be found and how its users would expect it to work, there was training on how to get in and out of an embedded position. The cadets learned that these bodies did indeed transform, and that this was typically key to proper positioning. Someone wanting to get into an office as a printer, for example, could walk up to the door of the target room with cloaking on, transform into printer mode, and then just sit there. Someone from the office would typically assume it was a delivery from some centralized main office and bring it in. Sometimes, a note would have to be attached to make it look like an official delivery, but other than that, getting in was usually pretty easy. Usually.

"Now, it's time for everyone to learn how to actually operate our most common infiltration body types," the instructor announced after the initial lessons in the subject were complete. "I have here 10 printer bodies. Each of you will mind-transfer to one of them, and then we'll do exercises to teach you how to properly use them - not only in robot mode, but in printer mode."

The trainer moved a big sheet out of the way of what turned out to be a very large table. There was enough room on the table that transforming wouldn't cause a "printer" to fall off of the edge, but it seemed likely that most robot-mode maneuvers would be done on the floor instead.

One by one, each cadet was brought forward, and told to connect via what would ordinarily be the printer's USB cable. This allowed the mind transfers to take place. As soon as StrongTalon completed the move, he noticed that he couldn't think quite as well as usual. Others began to complain about this effect, as well.

"As you're just finding out, it isn't possible to think at full capacity through a board set that's 100x smaller than your normal one," the instructor said, perfectly hiding his urge to chuckle. "Because of this, you have to take extra steps to memorize your mission first. Otherwise, you may forget it or mess up some of the details. However, for now, you only need to learn and remember how to use this type of body."

"Your first task is to transform into robot mode, and then not fall over."

Everyone put through their transformation commands, but to the cadets' dismay, it took a few tries to get the new body type to respond. Finally, most managed it, though one ended up stuck in a partially-transformed mode that looked sort of freakish. He had to have a quick one-on-one training session to get the sequence exactly right, but after that, he was able to assume robot mode without a problem.

"Now, hop to the floor and walk around a bit," the instructor ordered. Everyone jumped down, with varying degrees of clumsiness. Then they began to walk around, awkwardly at first, but quickly gaining their strides and learning the physics of moving this type of body. They found that the center of gravity was different, that the presence of ink or toner within their abdomens threw off their gaits, and that their feet weren't nearly as robust as their usual ones. It was clear that most of the engineering effort had been put into the printer mode and not the robot mode - a prioritization that was backwards from normal Decepticon design. Despite these difficulties, it only took 10 minutes for even the clumsiest of them to master walking as a robo-printer.

"Great," the instructor said. "Now, practice hopping up and down from the table until you've all mastered that, too. It shouldn't take more than 50 jumps. You do need to know that, and know it well, because that's part of how you're usually going to get out of the office when your assignments end."

Everyone did this, and StrongTalon thought to himself how this felt more like a phys ed class than a spying lesson. Still, he remembered, if he was still a biological, he wouldn't be learning how to operate a completely different body! He also wouldn't be able to master a new gym skill in minutes. Instead, it could take months, if he mastered it at all. These things were definitely easier as a machine, even one with a severely shrunken set of mind-boards.

Finally, everyone was made to transform from printer mode to robot mode and back until they could do it quickly and smoothly. "This ensures that you can do it fast enough to succeed at your missions," the instructor emphasized. "You don't want to get caught half-transformed at any time when in hostile territory."

After these exercises were completed, everyone was allowed to mind-transfer back to their usual bodies. They were clearly glad to be back to normal, and enjoyed their full mental capacities. The next day, they would be taught how to actually spy on their targets once in position, and the day after, they would have to complete exercises as printers to get actual practice at it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, they were told that the trick was to make a copy of everything that was printed through them while they were in position, and store it in a special chip that was part of their printer bodies. They were not to even try to commandeer this extra chip for more mental capacity, for it was essential to keep it free for storing digital copies of documents.

"Typically, the chip can store a terabyte of compressed data," the instructor said. "If you actually are about to accumulate more, you must ping your mission commander. What happens next depends on the mission and the commander. A 'repairman' may show up and change your data chip, or perhaps you'll be ordered to 'break down' and another agent will take your place. In only the rarest of circumstances will you be ordered to go ahead and upload your data. A long data stream is detectable, and after enough time, trackable. It's always better to just ping on the proper frequency. A ForIntel ping lasts less than 1/50 of a second - the chance of it even being detected by someone who isn't already listening for it is almost nil, and the chance of it being traced is even smaller."

"That's not all you'll be doing while in position, though."

The instructor proceeded to inform them that there was yet another data chip onboard that they'd be using - this one for voice recording. Whenever anyone spoke within listening range of them, they were to act as bugs and record the conversations. They were even to record short exclamations from people who were alone, for comments like "that asshole" would give away facts about office dynamics and who disliked who. Of course, positive comments were to be recorded, as well.

Finally, there were hidden cameras on each side of the printer bodies except for the bottoms. There wasn't enough data storage space for videos, but they were to take a quick still shot of everyone who got within range, and be sure to put a time stamp on it. This would let ForIntel know not only who was supposed to use the office and who he or she associated with, but also capture images of any unauthorized people who sneaked in. "Often, we aren't the only spies at a location," the instructor said with a grin. "Finding out who else is an espionage agent can be very important to an overall mission. Even better if we can figure out who they're working for."

The day after this introduction, everyone was given a practice session at recording documents and audio, and at taking pictures. They also learned that they could look through each camera on their bodies as well as take pictures with it.

"You need to be able to see if someone is coming at you with a sledgehammer!" The instructor said. The cadets all turned and looked at him in silence when they realized he really wasn't joking.

"Sometimes, a government installation will suspect that they have been infiltrated by ForIntel, but won't know where the agent is. It's rare, but some hotheads then order the destruction of all of their office equipment. This is usually done in a ham-fisted sort of way, like smashing everything or throwing everything into a giant grinder. If it comes to that...then we consider our cover to have been blown. Since it's already blown, you can go ahead and transform to evade the attack, and if necessary, open fire on the attacker. We do prefer that you run out of range instead if you can, though, to reduce the risk of immediate escalation to open warfare. Sometimes, though, you may have to blast your way out and leave the rest to the Military, if they're needed."

"That said, if we know that an installation has that kind of a hothead for a commander, we'll usually run psyops to make him believe that we have infiltrated. Of course, in those cases, we don't have any agents within miles of the place. Then he orders everything smashed for nothing, and all it does is massively gum up his own operation and cost him money, while it costs us nothing at all." The instructor laughed at this connive, which was a common one that ForIntel used against certain types of targets.

It didn't take long for the cadets to master the basics of recording, and the idea that they might have to dodge a sledgehammer someday just made the idea of a mission seem more exciting. Decepticons liked to have a bit of danger involved in their doings, finding a completely-safe job to be boring and mind-dulling. However, none of the current group of cadets wanted to have smash-attempts be common, either.

Next, it would be time for them to go on some pseudo-missions in scenarios with actors as targets.

They would repeat these steps, from basic training to pseudo-missions, with several types of equipment-style bodies. In doing so, they would find that the smaller boards of the printer bodies were actually quite expansive compared to the ones for things like cell phones, and have to master various techniques for dealing with the space limitations the tiniest bodies imposed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cybertron, Outdoors

BlasterPower was not thrilled with the area, which she thought of as too low-class as soon as she saw it. She didn't want to be near any Scroungers, and she didn't like the number of regular scroungers, either. Plus, the other houses, while not trashed, didn't seem to be in that good of condition. However, she decided to go ahead and land, if only to be polite to the sales guy who had come out there because of her call.

Right away, as a matter of course, she demanded some sort of proof that HouseProud actually owned this property. After all, if he couldn't provide that, he likely didn't have the right to sell it - and even better, she'd have the perfect excuse to break off the meeting and go look at something more enticing.

Already, she was getting the idea that temporarily renting in a better area, and then saving up cash from two or three more raids to buy a better house, would be a superior plan of action to buying in this area. But first, she'd have to ditch this salesguy, which would likely involve listening to some long-winded pitch.

[Vallermoore]

When StrongTalon mind-transfered to a priinter body, he found that, at least until he got used to it, not only was he not able to think very well compared to his old body, but that he could not think as well as when he was a changeling. It turned out that even Decepticon mind boards had their limitations, and in fact his mind-boards in this body were about the size of his old changeling brain. When he tried to transform, it took two or three tries and he nearly fell over. Using these kind of bodies needed training just to do simple things, but it was worth it. Most Forintel spying missions used these kinds of bodies, although there were exceptions. If they were not known about as was normally the case, they could transmit in real time a huge number of useful things back to Cybertron. Orders, codes, locations of rival spies, and all sorts of information. If they were found out about suspiscious biologicals would often smash up all their genuine equipment in trying to get rid of them. Soon enough they learnt the basic skills despite having, in effect, shrunken brains in these bodies, and were glad to get back to their normal bodies. Within another day or two, they had learnt how to spy properly in these bodies. StrongTalon felt happy to have got this far. If he made it all the way, he would be a lot of use to the Decepticon Nation-and could earn quite a bit of Energon too.

******
Cybertron, Outdoors

BlasterPower really didn't want to be around Scroungers, as it would be like lions roaming around in a human neighborhood-very dangerous. And there were too many scroungers with a small s as well. Nearly all areas had a scrounger or two-without any at all, piles of rubbish would end up in the streets. But as some of them thieved as well, particularly if in large groups, too many were a pain in the posterior at best. HouseProud replied more or less politely "What proof would you like to see? Cybertron is not exactly a very law-bound place, after all."

[Victorious Decepticons]

Intelligence Academy

Now, the cadets were to complete exercises where they would be graded on how well they used the printer bodies to spy. Instead of sending them to another planet, the instructor gave them a location deep under Cybertron's surface. "This is one of our larger secret training facilities," he told them. "The fact that it's a government area is no secret - in fact, all of the doors are clearly marked DECEPTICON GOVERNMENT AREA - but just what we do in there is classified information. You will find out when we get there just what we do and how it works."

Instead of having to find their way to the new location by puzzling it out, everyone was led down to the fourth level of the Underworks in a big group. "It's just a short way from here, so we should walk," the instructor ordered gently. As they made the trek, a few gangs came close to appraise them along the way. All of the gangs decided to back off when they saw 11 bots (10 cadets and one instructor) in good condition, whether or not they also noticed the instructor's ForIntel Seals. In the distance, some jet engines could be heard echoing, but the instructor paid them no mind.

Soon, they arrived at a very obvious set of double doors with a soldier posted on the left and right. As promised, the doors themselves said DECEPTICON GOVERNMENT AREA in large, block print in red. The instructor walked up and put his hand on the engine vibration detector, and the doors opened immediately. He beckoned to the group, and they all walked in.

Once inside, they were initially in a small, empty room. After the last cadet came through and the main doors closed, though, a large part of the far wall opened by sliding upwards, revealing a much bigger area. Several printer bodies were waiting on a table, and there was easily enough room for everyone to stand around it with their full-size bodies. Curiously, there were about 15 human-size doors in the right-side wall of this big room. StrongTalon now noticed that there were also about 100 humans, or what appeared to be humans, standing around near the doors. Right now, these "humans" looked more like realistic mannequins than living people - they stood stock-still, and had completely neutral expressions.

The instructor explained that everyone except him was to mind-transfer to a printer body. Each cadet would then be assigned an office environment to infiltrate. There was one environment behind each of the doors, and the cadets would be told which door was "theirs" after they mind-transferred. The "humans" they saw were actually AI-controlled droids, which would become active after everyone was mind-transferred and ready to go.

"Those droids are stand-ins for the employees that would populate a real office," the instructor said. "Most of them are AIs, though they're advanced enough to mimic the activity in an office quite well. However, for each office, one or two of the droids are actually remote-controlled by sapient agents. These, as you might expect, may be harder to fool. They also might not be in boss positions. You must learn right from the start: It often isn't the boss of an office who has the intelligence. It could actually be anyone, whether it's his secretary or the janitor who started two days ago. These are the ones who can spot you. Whether they nark on you...that depends on a lot of things. Some will simply spot you and chuckle. Others might try to 'icepick' you so the office has to get rid of you. A few might actually straight-up point you out. Part of your mission will be to NOT get spotted by these people. Of course, you have to avoid triggering any of the actual AIs, too. They are programmed to react to anything too out-of-the-ordinary, like a printer in mid-transformation or one that runs without being plugged in."

"Oh yes, that reminds me. You do officially need to be plugged in to run, and connected to a cable to receive data from computer-sent print jobs, so don't go printing things if they haven't got you set up."

"One other thing: You will notice that there are various objects and materials out here in this room, such as those cardboard boxes, those post-it notes and markers, and those intra-office delivery carts. Feel free to use whichever of these props you think will help you get yourself inside your assigned office area."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soon, everyone had mind-transferred to his assigned printer body, hopped down to the floor, and stood where the instructor ordered. As soon as they were in position, all 100 of the droids activated. However, as long as the cadets stayed in their current location, the AIs ignored them.

The cadets watched as the AIs split off into groups of 10 and each group went to a separate door. There were 10 droids for each "office." As if triggered by a time-related signal, the groups opened up the doors and began to file in, like employees going into work at the start of their day.

"Now it's your turn," the instructor said. "The 'peasants' are on their way to their desks now." He didn't try to hide his disdain for the likes of office workers and other grunt-tier employees in the slightest.

A few cadets went straight for the cardboard boxes. They took one box each to their assigned door, hopped inside, and just before transforming into printers, reached over and gave their doors a few knocks. Just before fully entering printer mode, they reached up and closed the lids of their boxes, making themselves look like they'd just been delivered.

Others set themselves up on the delivery carts, but otherwise used the same general method as the box users.

StrongTalon looked over the situation, and decided whether or not to use a prop or just plop himself at the door as a printer "in the open" right after making some sort of noise. He also considered the post-it notes, remembering that the instructor had mentioned that sometimes, agents got in by just marking their machine-mode bodies with a little note. "Here's your printer" might be just the right message to make him look legit...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blasted-Up House


BlasterPower didn't have to think long to remember one of the ways things could be proven on Cybertron.

"How about we go to the DomIntel office and have them vouch for you?" She suggested.

[Vallermoore]

Intelligence Academy

StrongTalon decided to mark his printer body with a note saying, "Your New Printer arrived," and turned off his itch sensors as the last thing he wanted as an annoying itch that he could not scratch without blowing his cover. Soon enough he was taken in and plugged in, and he could start recording anything in his mind boards that was of interest, ready to send it off to it's proper destination. He didn't mind the wait and just sitting there-that was part of the duty of a Forintel agent and his robot body, unlike biological bodies, didn't get cramp from not moving. After a while a "biological" came in and "printed" a copy of his ass for a joke, and later a couple of biologicals came in and started saying things that would be of some interest to Forintel if this were real and not just a training exercise. All this time StrongTalon did nothing to give himself away to the AIs or any genuine bots amongst them and just saved the information and pictures and other stuff of value rather then transmitting it. He had been a Changeling spy once as well as a love collector, and now he was doing the same sort of thing in a training exercise for the Decepticon Empire. He was determined not to mess up this exercise.

Soon enough some other "missions" would follow.

*****
Cybertron, Outdoors

To her surprise, HouseProud agreed. Maybe he really did own the land after all. Soon they would find out.

[Victorious Decepticons]

Intelligence Academy

At first, the other missions were pretty easy. StrongTalon got to take the form of a big square floor polisher, a rack of servers complete with a blazing fast hardwired internet connection, and a computer monitor. This, however, simply gave him familiarity with the equipment and what offices were generally like.

Today, the assignment would be much harder. He would be a printer again, but now, the entire office would be actively looking for him.

"In this scenario, the target has realized that we're finding things out about them that could only be learned by spying in their offices. The entire staff has been put on alert, and there's a reward in it for whoever finds the spy. They know that it's us - one of our overt representatives has accidentally mentioned something that they shouldn't have known. Now, they're looking for everything from androids to cell phones, and their intent is to capture or kill the infiltrator. They're hoping to capture you and hack you to learn about us, but if they can't do the hacking, they have no qualms about throwing you into one of these..." The instructor waved his hand at a dastardly-looking grinder made for tearing up anything made of fairly flimsy metal or plastic - such as office equipment.

"Your goal is not only to evade detection, but to extricate yourself from your position. You will remember that you have cloaking. However, just disappearing may make yourself obvious instead of unobtrusive. Now that everyone's looking for you, any security camera footage will be scrutinized. Of course, if you're already gone by the time they look, YOU will be safe. But we who figure out how to embed agents would not be happy to have one possible method get looked at too hard. Someday, we might want to 'install' another 'printer' there."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This time, the cadets didn't have to sneak into the offices. Instead, they were carried right in and planted in their positions. The goal was to sneak OUT rather than in, so the exercise didn't start until after the setup was fully complete.

Soon, the androids - some of which had sapient agents controlling them - filed in for 'work.' In StrongTalon's office, the emergency briefing took place right in front of him. The 'supervisor' told everyone that there was a spy, and that whoever found it would be rewarded with an extra 1,000 Septims on their next paycheck. This apparently was a lot of money, because everyone's interest increased tremendously. He then told everyone that the spy was a Decepticon, and that this meant that anything computerized was to be considered suspect - and that the same went for each other! "Decepticons can build themselves to look like machines, but some of them can also imitate humans and other organic lifeforms," he emphasized.

StrongTalon had to secretly be impressed at how the android managed to look as upset as a real human would in this situation. It even seemed to have a slight sheen of sweat on its face. He figured that this had to be one of those advanced human android forms he'd heard about. In reality, however, this was just one of the basic humandroids that ForIntel used. It had no DNA in any of its parts, and if asked to give a blood or hair sample for testing, the jig would be up. This wasn't a problem here, but it made this particular body type unsuitable for penetrating the most secure areas of modern or advanced nations.

Most of the worker droids, on the other hand, didn't look quite as realistic. StrongTalon figured out that these were the true AIs. Some did have more realism, and he figured that they were the remote-controlled ones. Fortunately, none of them seemed to be looking right at him. Instead, they all ignored him like they'd ignore an actual printer.

StrongTalon got a bit worried at the supervisor's next directive. "Go around and pick up every piece of electronics that's light enough to lift," he ordered, "and shake it around a bit. Not enough to break a legitimate machine, of course! But check to make sure it feels normal. I figure that a Decepticon is probably heavier or sturdier than the real thing. If you manage to find one, don't yell out. Just bring it here, and drop it into THIS without a word." He indicated the machinery-destroying grinder that the Academy instructor had mentioned.

Soon, almost everyone filed out. One, however, stayed behind. StrongTalon noticed that it was one of the androids that he figured was probably remote-controlled instead of AI-driven.

"Might as well start with this printer," it said, as if it knew full well that the printer was the planted cadet. Unfortunately for StrongTalon, he wasn't nearly as big as a full-fledged office copier, which would have been impossible for a human to lift up and shake. The android managed to get his hands firmly around two of StrongTalon's corners, and proceeded to lift him up and shake him around.

Immediately, StrongTalon let out a long, high-pitched error beep. His small display now read E12.

"Oh, for Septim's sake!" The supervisor said complainingly. "Now you went and broke it!" He looked at the error message and hit the button to clear it. "Let's see if it still prints!" He grabbed a random paper and put it on the platen. Then, he hit the print button.

StrongTalon beeped again, and proceeded to display "E12" just like before.

The supervisor tried several times to get StrongTalon to print the paper, which StrongTalon realized was a mockup of a military equipment order - causing him to decide to commit it to his hidden memory chip - but the printer refused to deliver a copy. Instead, it just kept saying "E12" over and over.

Remaining completely in character, the supervisor bitched at the other employee for a few minutes after giving up, and then sent him out of the room. Once the employee left, the supervisor tried several more things to get the machine running, like unplugging and replugging it, hitting reset, unplugging its computer cable and replugging it, rebooting his computer, and even trying to establish a Wi-Fi connection. All were met by the same obstinate message: "BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! E12."

The supervisor finally gave the printer a fairly smart blow with his fist, but just like a real printer, it did not respond to that at all. Secretly, StrongTalon was quite pissed off at the punch - he knew that the agent was fully aware of what was going on and that punching him wouldn't work! He decided to try to find out who this joker was later, and if the chance arose, give him a "response" to that. For now, he stayed in character, acting just like a real printer would.

As time went on, employees filed in and out of the office, reporting that they hadn't found anything. Then, the FUN started.

Under pressure to find the spy, and facing a supervisor who was getting more and more frustrated and angry, the other employees began to 'think' they had found suspicious equipment. They began to bring in these items, make their case, and then throw them into the grinder. The supervisor seemed impressed when the first one came in, but after the fifth one had done it, he began to look horrified and a bit panicked. "Hey, hold it! You're destroying everything! There's only supposed to be ONE spy, dammit!"

The latest employee, who was holding a large model office phone, said "But this one doesn't seem right at all! It's way too heavy for a phone!"

Now, the supervisor seemed really angry. "That's because we bought it 20 years ago, and it was used from 10 years before that, idiot! ALL phones from then are heavy!" He yanked it away and loudly slammed the entire unit down onto his desk. "Now GET OUT!"

It was all StrongTalon could do not to break out laughing, which would have blown his cover. He was definitely impressed at the level of acting that he was seeing. All of the acting, of course, was actually done to try to get him to do something rash and give himself away. He had to remain on guard to avoid either laughing or freaking out, depending on what was going on at the moment.

Finally, after several more hours and the destruction of at least 15 other pieces of innocent, but thankfully nonsapient, equipment, the 'office' closed for the day. Workers began to file out.

Suddenly, the supervisor yelled out to one of them. "Hey! Take this piece of shit with you and file an Equipment Exchange Requisition before you go!"

The employee, this one an AI-driven android, came and picked up StrongTalon. It took him to its usual desk, got out a piece of paper, and read the serial number off of the printer's rear. The android began to mutter realistically: "Printer non-operational; error E12; rebooted, yes; replacement needed now..."

It then took StrongTalon outside of the office and set him on the floor with the requisition paper taped on top. Finally, it locked the office door. The 'day' was now over.

Once everyone was gone, StrongTalon went ahead and transformed back to robot mode, and quickly made his way to the assignment completion area. He noticed, disconcertingly, that there were only 6 other printer-bodied people in that area. Now, there were 3 full-sized robots waiting further away, all of which looked dejected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I see that seven of you successfully completed your missions," the instructor said when it was clear that there was no one else to wait for. "And three of you, while you managed to not outright confirm your targets' suspicions, did NOT evade enough suspicion to avoid getting ground up. You successfully mind-transferred out, though, so at least you remember your experience..." He was clearly disappointed that the three had failed the mission, but soon, he turned his attention to the successes.

"All of you were subjected to various stressful events during this exercise, and that was planned. You each had a remote-controlled agent near you at all times, who constantly reported on what was happening and what you did about it. I give a special commendation to StrongTalon, who perfectly imitated the obstinate beeping and erroring of an actual failed printer. You must have had some experience with one! I also commend Garble, who managed to cut into the phone system of his office and convincingly tell the 'supervisor' there that the spy had been found and to call off the search. The imitation was deemed good enough to work, and the androids acted accordingly. As for the rest of you, you managed to pass, but didn't do anything particularly creative to do it. YOU will be doing another exercise, where you will *have to* be more inventive in order to pass."

StrongTalon and Garble both showed proud body language when they were singled out for commendation. Soon, all were allowed to mind-transfer back to their regular bodies, which they were happy to do. The two commendees still looked proud after this was completed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Other exercises after this were similar, but each type of machine had different types of possible responses. Some were also too big to be thrown into grinders, but failures soon found out that they could still be blasted with flamethrowers or shot up with automatic rifles. StrongTalon passed all of these exercises, though he didn't always manage to get a commendation out of how he did it.

After the last of this series of exercises, the instructor addressed everyone:

"Before I let you go, I must warn you: The next set of exercises will be some of the hardest. You will be learning how to operate as cell phones. Make Saves before you arrive for these tasks."

Everyone now looked a bit concerned. What about being a cell phone would require them to make a Save first? Was it exceptionally dangerous, or something else?

Later, they would find out that it was indeed something else. However, for now, they were allowed to leave the area.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elsewhere on Cybertron

BlasterPower was a bit miffed. She had been hoping that HouseProud would chicken out! Since he didn't, they began to walk to the closest DomIntel office.

Once there, they were charged a "courtesy fee," and then an agent went to look up the ownership of the house. The Supercomputer obliged with the information almost immediately, and the agent came back with the printout.

"HouseProud is indeed the owner of that house," the agent said, handing over the foil-paper. He was willing to stop talking right then, but he got a strange look on his face. "If you want any more information, that'll be a courtesy fee of 100 Cubes..."

Something about the way the agent was acting let BlasterPower know that he thought it'd be a very good idea for her to ask for the 'more information.' Perhaps there was something important about the house that she should know.

"No, no, that'll be all!" HouseProud said quickly, turning for the door and using his wingspan to almost force BlasterPower to go out first in order to avoid a dent. Instead of going along with that, she backed up quickly, causing his wing to miss by about a half-inch.

"I DO believe that it might be worth the investment!" She said, now both very suspicious, and miffed at the near-collision. She got out another 100 Cubes as HouseProud suddenly looked flustered.

"Ah, good choice. The reason the house is so blasted is that the current owner just took it over from the former owner less than a week ago. That former owner was spotted by us at several locations since then, the most notable of which is Firepower Modifications."

BlasterPower was now very angry. HouseProud wanted to sell her a house that he had just recently jacked, and leave her to take the heat when that guy came to get his pad back! DomIntel had recognized HouseProud as the Official Owner since he had won the battle for the house, but that didn't mean that he would be *remaining* the owner for long. By selling it right away, he'd get a load of money and - if he did everything right - not have to deal with the repossession attempts. BlasterPower now knew why HouseProud had tried to force her out of the DomIntel office before she could pay for more information. It was the "more information" that told whether or not the deal would be a good one.

"Don't worry about it!" HouseProud said, trying in futility to save the deal. "I'll make you a new one, just like I said! It doesn't matter why it got blasted up!"

BlasterPower looked at him with dim-coal eyes. "And I suppose this 'Firepower Modifications' place is just some sort of arcade!" She said with accusing anger.

"Uh...yeah! Yeah, it's just a place to have fun!" HouseProud said, pretending to miss the sarcasm and hoping she would back down from wanting to fight. Her battle-revving engine let both him and the agent know that this tactic didn't work.

The agent cut in. "Both of you need to settle this outside - 1,000 or more feet from this building. Good luck and may the victory go to the Strongest." He escorted them out, figuring that they would most certainly fight each other now that the important information was out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sure enough, BlasterPower had full intentions of showing this crook her literal blaster power. He saw this coming, and knew that if he turned his back to fly away, he'd be getting ventilated for sure. The two of them went the designated 1,000 feet away from the building, each revving in preparation for the fight. Inside the office, the DomIntel agent dropped the blast shades and began to watch the two on his CCTV screen.

Soon, the battle was on.

[Vallermoore]

Intelligence Academy

StrongTalon passed that assignment and a few others like it, and then was faced with a new challenge-those he was *spying* on knew that it was happening and were trying to find his spy body and destroy it. To pass this mission he would need to avoid this fate. When they started looking for him and shook him to test if he was a spy, a thought came to his mind boards small as they were and he decided to pretend to be broken as a result of the shaking. That would hopefully mean that he would be put outside without any danger of blowing his cover, as the security camaras in the office would just show a broken printer. The former changeling imitated a broken printer perfectly-andf got punched for it, that hurt. Privately he hoped to get his own back someday for that. Next he could have broken his cover by laughing, and here his former changeling training for advanced agents came to his aid. Back in the hive changelings pretending to be things like large jugs would face attempts to make them laugh and break their covers, and he managed to avoid bursting into laughter then as now. He was determined to prove to Forintel that he had what it took to graduate as a brand new agent, the perfect job for a former changeling agent.

After several more hours he was carried out of the office and could transform and get out of there, his cover intact. Three bots had been uncovered, and the rest had been successful. To his delight StrongTalon got a commendation. Things like this were a major plus. After some more tests, all of which he passed he made a Save as the next tests were likely to be dangerous or there was something else involved. Making a Save made sure he would not be killed outright or mind-board damaged.


Elsewhere on Cybertron

They went around the back. Only in the rarest of cases, like the time when foreign bots kiddnapped a Decepticon who managed to escape and went to Domintel to report it and was in a real hurry to do so, did any bots go to the front. Even though they were not narking, it was simply a cultural tradition that in cases like this bots went around the back. In fact, going around the back was like going openly in the front on law-bound nations. It turned out that he did own it-but only because he took it from the currant owner who was very much alive and preparing to take his house back with excessive violence. "Both of you need to settle this outside - 1,000 or more feet from this building. Good luck and may the victory go to the Strongest." Fighting was understandable, but was not allowed (because of the damage it would cause) within a Domintel station.

Battle commenced, and HouseProud was a good fighter, but so was BlasterPower. HouseProud had fluted armor on his joints and slightly more chest armor then normal, but BlasterPower had her anger and desire for revenge driving her on.

[Victorious Decepticons]

Intelligence Academy

StrongTalon and the other cadets were a bit surprised when they walked in for the next exercise. Instead of office equipment, they saw nothing but a row of cellphones on a table. These phones looked just like the high-end ones that were being sold on some nearby planets this year. They were very thin, though they had decent screen sizes. Compared to the big Decepticons, they were smaller than pinkie fingernails.

"Today, you will be learning how to operate some of the most difficult bodies to run," the instructor said with unexpected gravity. "These are examples of those bodies." He indicated the row of phones.

"For these, you don't just connect and activate the mind-transfer command. As you might have guessed, you'll never fit all of your data into them. It's also highly insecure, and asking to be hacked, to try to keep the rest of your data in 'the cloud.' Instead, you will have to offload most of your data onto a disk, keeping only what is absolutely essential to retaining your personality and remembering how to do your mission. This is all that will fit into one of these bodies."

Everyone now looked at least a bit nervous. What would they remember?

It turned out that it was exactly as the instructor had said. They would ONLY remember their mission-critical information, and keep their basic personalities. All of their other data would go onto new save-like disks - and then they would have to delete it from their onboard systems!

"Once the mission ends and you're back at your base, you mind-transfer back to your regular body and reinstall all of your prior knowledge from your Mission Disk."

The basic principle was easy enough, but nobody was legitimately calm about the thought of leaving the majority of their data on Cybertron. Some of the cadets were shuffling around nervously, though most managed to keep a military-like apparent stoicism - at least, as viewed from the outside.

Despite the tension in the air, the instructor continued.

"As you should know, these 'phones' do transform, and they have little blasters in them, too. Unfortunately, the blasters aren't very powerful, but they're strong enough to make almost anyone let go. They can also be deadly, but only if you aim exactly right. Biologicals have weak spots in their skulls. You basically have to set your blaster beam so that it expands right after passing one of these weak points - but not before. Then, you hit the target right in the ear hole or one of the eyes. The narrow initial attack will punch through the soft tissue there, and then the expanding beam will cook his brain almost instantly. However, it's very hard to get such a shot in, because in order to do it, you have to go into robot mode - and once a target sees you like that, he'll be trying to kill YOU, so you won't be standing still as you're trying to hit the right spot."

"In phone mode with the right models, you can give a target a hell of a shock, heat up suddenly to make someone drop you, and, of course, imitate any typical error that a phone might give. However, doing these things will cause the target to get rid of you, which involves the crushing or shredding of his 'phone' - and if your goal isn't to extricate yourself from a mission, this can be a very bad thing. If you ARE extricating yourself, though, it's good - most phones used by high-ranking officials end up run through metal shredders or at least smashed up, so the target essentially destroys the evidence that you were ever there." The instructor laughed. "Just don't mimic errors unless you intend to leave by mind-transfer, and you'll be fine when it comes to that...usually. Sometimes, an official just won't like your model of phone, and will demand a different one. Then they may throw you in a shredder as part of security protocols. But that doesn't usually happen."

StrongTalon scowled just a little. There seemed to be a lot of hedging in the instructor's speech about capabilities. He decided that he'd better be extra-careful when using one of these bodies, and make absolutely sure to put all calls through perfectly.

"As with other body types, you will be recording everything you hear. With these, you'll also be getting the location data and phone numbers of everyone who connects. These bodies, however, have a better data compression algorithm so that you can stay in position for months without having to upload your files - despite their tiny sizes. When you do upload, the phone function won't work. We've put in a program that makes your screen claim that the phone is getting a 'security update' to cover up what's really happening. Most targets won't suspect a thing. If they do get suspicious, they'll likely run an antivirus. We make sure that the AV triggers an alert. This will usually result in the immediate end of your placement, since they'll destroy the phone shortly after. But once that alert goes off, you'll activate the mind-transfer program, so you'll be long gone by the time the 'compromised' phone hits the hammer mill or shredder."

"Sometimes, you'll find yourself 'ejected' from a mission through no fault of your own. Corrupt politicians may find it strategic for them to destroy all of their phones in order to stymie a local investigation. Then, they'll do things like hit you with Bleach Bit and then manually hit you with hammers. If this starts happening, just evacuate by mind-transfer and don't worry about mission failure. You can't control or plan for every shenanigan some Secretary of State or some other crook is going to get up to, or their total lack of subtlety in how they stay out of legal trouble. The target will get a new 'phone' soon enough."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The instructor gave several more details, and then it was time. He began to call the cadets forward, and have each one transfer almost ALL of their data to new disks. Then, he ordered each one to delete their own copy of the transferred data.

There was a definite pause as the cadets considered this. Was it a trick to have them turn themselves into morons? Maybe Intelligence intended to replace their real memories with BS! Was this REALLY how ForIntel was able to have agents run such tiny bodies, which did indeed seem too small for it to be physically impossible to fit all of their data into?!?!

One of the cadets backed up. He was not going to do it. Even if everyone thought he was a coward, he knew that it might turn out that he was actually the smartest one in the room. He would not risk his data. After an uncomfortable pause, yet another backed away.

The instructor looked disappointed, but then got a hard expression. "You realize this ends your candidacy for Foreign Intelligence Agent." He stated flatly as he looked straight at the refusers. They acknowledged this fact.

"You will have to be cleared by DomIntel before you go. That WILL involve a code-read. It is not optional. We have to be sure that you have not become compromised since your last check. The information you have seen IS SECRET, and if you divulge it to ANYONE, the Main Pit awaits you. We will be watching you for a long time - likely until this technology is all obsolete - so don't think you won't be noticed if you get too talkative. Is that understood?"

The two acknowledged this and left for the DomIntel office. StrongTalon noted that immediately afterward, there was just a bit of motion and a feeling of a draft behind them. Cloaked agents were now following the pair to make sure they reported in.

The other cadets, not wanting to throw away their desire to be agents, hesitantly stepped forward. The first followed the stated protocol, making a copy of his "offload" data and then deleting his onboard copy. Immediately, he stood still, looking confused. The instructor reminded him of the current mission, and then he seemed more stable. He mind-transferred to the phone body, and soon, put it through its paces. For now, the "mission" was simply to master the mind-transfer process (both ways) and the operation of the body.

As a phone, the cadet was indeed able to transform, and a test of his blasters revealed that they were indeed quite weak. They didn't even scorch the firing target that the instructor held up. Yet, when he used a model of a pony's head to show how to get through the weak points in a skull, they caused devastating damage to the material inside.

Next was the flight test. These bodies had no jets, it turned out, but were light enough to glide on very weak air currents. When the right bodily command was put through, membranes like those used by flying squirrels popped out between the arms and the torso. Then, after several attempts and falls, the cadet was finally able to catch the air currents caused by the HVAC system to glide around the room.

Now, the instructor ordered the cadet to return to his main body. Since his body was right there, he was able to glide over and connect the "charging cord" to an adapter, which fit into his main body's data port. Despite the ability to mind-transfer "over the air," most preferred a hardwired connection when it was available. Once connected, the cadet paused for a while. He finally found where the needed program had ended up when he ported himself to the phone body, and ran it.

With a rev of relief, the cadet activated in his regular body, and the robot-mode phone began to fall. The instructor skillfully reached down and caught it before it could smash on the floor about 70 feet below. "Um, the rest of you, land on your big body's shoulder and set yourself up so the phone won't fall before you transfer," the instructor said, a bit embarrassed that he'd forgotten to tell them that before.

Now, the instructor handed the cadet his disk, and the cadet began to read his own data back into himself. A few minutes later, he rebooted himself. Once he came back online, he seemed back to normal.

"Debugging will now check to make sure everything is okay," the instructor told him. On cue, a Debugger entered the room through the main door. The two left the room, and everyone waited for the verdict. Several minutes later, the pair came back, and declared that everything was fine.

"Being the first one for this always requires the most bravery, but the rest of you will have it easier on that front. However, make sure you don't get complacent - especially when it comes to what you put on the disk! Anything you don't put on there, but delete from yourself, has a risk of being lost forever. That's why I had you make a Save first. It's insurance against that error, as well as data corruption and other mishaps. But there may be times that you don't have a Save, but only your 'offload disk,' so be sure to practice the proper protocol at all times."

The instructor now gave StrongTalon a pointed look. "Your turn."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Behind the DomIntel Office

As they prepared to fight, BlasterPower noticed a plane silently glide up, silently transform into robot mode, and land on top of a building with the precision of a ballet dancer. She also noticed that he had four-barrel blasters on each arm, each gleaming with newness. However, to her dismay, he did not join the fight. Instead, he folded his downward-pointing wingtips upward and proceeded to sit himself on the edge of the building with his feet dangling over the edge, like a spectator. His eyes glowed balefully.

Suddenly, her attention was brought back to the matter at hand. Unfortunately, this bringing-back came in the form of a strong blast across her chest that cut about halfway through her armor. She immediately fired back, and the fighting truly commenced.

Though it took quite a long time, it eventually became clear that HouseProud had the more powerful body, and more experience at fighting. He managed to turn in ways that minimized the force that hit him when she fired, much like how a boxer turns a bit to blunt the effects of punches. Meanwhile, BlasterPower was less experienced, and though she tried to copy this tactic, she was often a bit too slow. Over the course of the fight, she did do damage to HouseProud, but he did more to her. Finally, he got a blast through to her motion boards, rendering her attempts to fight ineffective.

"I'll be gracious and let you live," HouseProud said, with the pride of victory in his voice. "Now you know, next time you don't want to deal, it's better to just say no!"

HouseProud turned to leave, never having seen the spectator who had silently taken up a position on the roof behind him. Suddenly, a powerful salvo of blaster fire erupted from that roof, hitting HouseProud in several places and sending sparks flying from a shoulder that had already been damaged by BlasterPower. "It's time you paid for MY HOUSE!!!" an angry voice yelled. The new foe jumped down from the roof while using only minimal jet power to slow his fall, and landed with a loud clunk.

The new enemy didn't wait a moment for HouseProud to respond. The light of blaster fire erupted all around, and the sounds of metal rending filled the air. Return fire was given, but it was quickly obvious that HouseProud's already-damaged body wasn't going to last. For a moment, for no apparent reason, this strong foe came in and wrestled his foe, but quickly backed off. More blasting occurred. In less than 10 minutes after that, HouseProud's engine stopped.

The owner went over to his defeated foe and hoisted his body over his shoulder with a grin. Then, he came over to where BlasterPower was clumsily standing. "You don't have to worry, but this git has a lot more to worry about," he said. "I'm Vibes." He now introduced himself. "Did you notice how I wrestled with this ass for a couple of seconds? I now have the vibes of his engine. I also know the location of his vault. He WILL be paying for my house, and NOT just by the puny value of his carcass!" He grinned in victory, his once-menacing eyes now glowing clearly.

"You'd better have your mind-transfer command cued up and ready to go," Vibes warned BlasterPower. "The Scroungers will be attracted to you like magnets in your condition."

With that, Vibes strutted away, with the arms of his deactivated "loot" swinging limply over his back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, at a vault complex, there would be another fight. HouseProud would open the door of his vault with the intent of getting some Cubes out to buy himself another Spare, only to get hit with a faceful of blaster fire. Vibes had cleared out the vault, put the Energon somewhere else, and then come back to wait inside.

To Vibes' dismay, HouseProud had yet another spare somewhere, and in the absence of jamming, was able to escape doom. However, he did at least leave one more body behind for Vibes to sell, so the wait wasn't a complete waste for the house owner.

[Vallermoore]

Intelligence Academy

The former changeling StrongTalon was not going to be deterred even by the prospect of brain damage or death if something went wrong from joining Forintel. In his mind boards, it was his destiny to join Forintel as an agent and serve the Decepticon Empire possibly forever in that role. Still, he was *very* careful from making his Save Disc. He had trust, something rare amongst Decepticons, in Forintel not to kill him and use his information for their own purposes. Two bots resigned from the academy rather then enter a phone-body and were allowed to go-Forintel was not the Sinola Cartel-but were warned it would be treason to run their voice chips off about what had happened there and would earn a Main Pit execution rather than being gunned down in the street. With a simple prayer to Megatron for the safety of his data, after making sure the chip was safe StrongTalon deleted the information and mind transferred to the phone body. This first mission was very simple-just learning how to use the body, which took StrongTalon a few tries, before he could transform, blast, glide, and use the other body controls. This was expected with such a small mind-board that a bot would be clumsy at first. Later when he was back in his main body and properly restored, he would start using the phone body for proper training missions and would be a step closer to becoming an FNG Forintel agent.


Behind the DomIntel Office

BlasterPower was distracted by another bot who came up to watch the fight-something common amongst Decepticons who found watching street duels and battles very entertaining. Such a thing was accepted in Decepticon culture. The eyes were glowing not brightly and happily but with a baleful dull red glow. When they chose to show their feelings, the eyes of bots were very expressive indeed. She got blasted by HouseProud and the fight was on. She did some damage of her own, but HouseProud was an experienced veteran bot who stood sideways to make himself harder to hit. When she fell to the ground he had taken only 40% damage.

"I'll be gracious and let you live," HouseProud said. "Now you know, next time you don't want to deal, it's better to just say no!" The proud bot was ambushed however by the spectator with a cry of It's time you paid for MY HOUSE!!!" The battle that followed was very fierce and lasted several minutes but at the end of it HouseProud had lost a body. Grinning, his eyes now bright red, the bot introduced himself. "You don't have to worry, but this git has a lot more to worry about. I'm Vibes." He now introduced himself. "Did you notice how I wrestled with this ass for a couple of seconds? I now have the vibes of his engine. I also know the location of his vault. He WILL be paying for my house, and NOT just by the puny value of his carcass! You'd better have your mind-transfer command cued up and ready to go. The Scroungers will be attracted to you like magnets in your condition."

Seeing a gang of Scroungers approaching with grins and warm red eyes BlasterPower mind transferred back to her last body and decided to make a Save Disc of herself.

[Victorious Decepticons]

Intelligence Academy

Once back in his regular body, and after he reinstalled all of his normal data, StrongTalon was pleased to note that he remembered all of his experiences in the phone body, too.

After everyone had their turn, the instructor made note of how they'd remember their phone-body information. "This is normal for a data-merge, but it's also important for improving your skills," he said. "Since you can think about your experience, you can figure out ways to improve while you're at your full capabilities."

He went on to explain that the next time they used phone bodies, they would bring along their newly-gained knowledge instead of offloading it. "There is enough memory space in the bodies to hold everything you know about operating in one of them, and this holds true for several missions. If it wasn't for that, you'd have to be retrained every time you did a mission in one of those forms. Obviously, that wouldn't be good. That said, the secret details of prior missions won't be transferred over - just how to be a great tiny-body agent. This makes you quite effective over time, while helping to ensure that any data that would actually help the target can't fall into their hands."

For now, the cadets were dismissed. When they came back to the Academy for their next phone-based training mission, they would find that the entire inside of the training room had been redone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We try to change the sets around every so often so that you don't get too complacent with the surroundings," the instructor explained. "As you can see, this time, you'll be in a replica of a skyscraper-style office. We need to go down to the basement to properly enter it. While the inside of the set replicates this type of building properly, we actually had to build downward in order to get the proper height. That's because we don't want an Intelligence structure visible from the surface."

The cadets were surprised to find that an elevator was now visible in one wall. Before, it had been covered up by the prior set. This elevator was huge inside by human standards, and easily held 10 full-sized Decepticons. Inside, a giant fan could be heard running. Even Decepticons needed oxygen for combustion when not using space fuel, but O2 was used up quickly in a closed area with up to 10 giant engines all running at once. The fan was blowing fresh air in at a great rate to keep up with the demand.

It didn't take long for the elevator to reach the proper floor, which StrongTalon figured was one planetary level below their current one. When the doors opened, they found themselves in another brightly-lit main room, but to their right, there was a perfect mockup of the main entry doors of a skyscraper. In front of them, there was a table full of phones, but this time, there were about 100 of them on display.

"You don't always get to choose your phone, but we like to give you some practice at it just in case. That's because different types of people can afford different phone types. There are also variations in preferences depending on age, experience, and class. For this exercise, you'll need to base your choice of phone on what you know about your intended target. The target will already have a phone - a regular one - so part of your mission will be to get him or her to switch it and choose you instead."

Information sheets were now handed out. They profiled each cadet's intended target, complete with a picture and general personal information. The sheets even said whether the target had children, and if so, their ages and how many there were.

"These targets," the instructor said, "are actually training agents running human bodies. For those who are listed as having kids, you may or may not encounter training agents in kid bodies. Sometimes, you never see the kids; at other times, they will be prominent factors in mission success or failure. Whether you'll see the kids depends mostly on the security protocol of the office the target is part of. Some allow phones to be taken home, or kids to be brought to work, while others will allow just one or neither condition."

StrongTalon looked over his information sheet. His "target" was a heavy man about age 55, fairly ugly, and with two grown children. He wore a vest which was too small to close (and therefore, hung wide open), and on top of that, a suitcoat that was a bit too big. The suitcoat was also open in the picture, exposing the vest. The only thing that seemed to fit right was the business shirt underneath it all.

This target, despite his looks, was a high-powered leader of the security force assigned to protecting the president of the fictional training nation. His credentials showed that at one time, he was a strong bodyguard, able to beat up pretty much any challenger. However, once he got his desk job, he had given up bodybuilding and enjoyed taking it easy, at least from a physical standpoint. Mentally, he was reported to be highly intelligent and able to see through most assassination plots. It was the thwarting of a plot, involving the president's limo mechanics and a bomb, that had put this target on the path to being the Chief of Security.

Finally, there was the basic information about where to find this person. He normally worked on the 10th floor, which housed the entire office-side operations of the fake country's National Security Bureau. While he would have had a home address if it had been a real mission, this exercise didn't list one because there were no mockups of houses set up. He would have to be reached in or around his office somehow.

"Your mission," the instructor told StrongTalon, "is to get this guy talking right into your ear, or your mic, to be more accurate. The first thing you'll have to do is get to where he is, or to where he'll see you and hopefully pick you up. The point of the mission is to find out what security is around the president, and whether any assassination plots are suspected. If any are, you are to flag your data upload so we know to go through it right away. Also, listen up to whatever else is going on within earshot. If you hear any more about assassination plots and how the office intends to thwart them, be sure to add that data to the upload! Of course, there is also the usual standing order: Don't get caught."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

StrongTalon looked over the phone choices, and decided that someone into security probably wouldn't want a really obvious and ostentatious-looking device. Instead, he'd want one with high capabilities, but that looked fairly regular - or, perhaps, that had a beefy case that would allow the phone inside to be bounced off of a wall with no ill-effects. He finally settled on an expensive, but low-key-looking, model. Then, he carefully fitted a decently-strong case around it to complete the effect. He saw that this case had a secret plug that fit into an equally-secret port. This would allow relevant bodily-function commands to be sent to the case, and cause it to do things like open up slots for his wings if he decided to glide.

After offloading his data and mind-transferring to the phone, he realized that he could control what appeared in his phone contacts, recent calls, and other such lists. He quickly added his target's name to the contact list, with PHONE OWNER next to it in all caps. This way, if "found," the finder just might hand him over, or at worst, send him to his target through the mail.

His first task was to get inside of the office building in such a way that no random person would either see him in robot mode, or take him in phone mode. He figured the first part of this would be easy. He could just follow one of the androids - of which there were many, going in and out - through the revolving doors while running his cloaking. As long as he didn't get stepped on, he'd be in with no trouble.

This worked as well as planned, though he did unexpectedly bump into another cadet who had the same idea. Neither cadet said anything or decloaked, so their covers weren't blown. StrongTalon couldn't tell where the other cadet went after getting through the revolving door and out of the way of android feet.

He looked around the new area, which turned out to be a giant lobby with marble floors. In the center of the floor, there was an inlaid logo that looked like a national seal, along with words proclaiming it as the Federal Complex. Several comfortable chairs were tastefully placed around this space, some of which had businessman-looking androids sitting in them. Notably, this building had ashtrays on stands near the chairs, and one bot was sipping what appeared to be a cocktail. The drink looked like whiskey.

StrongTalon checked each android to see if any were his target, but there was no such luck. He continued to check out the lobby, and finally saw a reception desk to the side of the big elevator bank. That would be his next destination.

Soon, he made it over to the desk, and carefully climbed up the side with his cloaking on. He made sure to be absolutely silent. Once he reached the top, he waited for the workers to get distracted by something and turn away from his position. Then, he silently transformed in a hurry and decloaked. He hoped his listing of his target's name along with "PHONE OWNER" in the phone contacts would cause the workers to deliver him to his target. After all, most people wouldn't want to mess with the property of the Chief of Security of their own country...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elsewhere

BlasterPower was relieved to hear the rev of her own engine as she arrived in her Spare, and was glad to be alive. Being able to mind-transfer like that was very foreign to her, having been a biological and all!

Now, she was both nerved-up and pissed. She had not only wasted her time trying to get that house, but it had cost her a body. "At least that crook ended up getting blasted and his vault raided," she thought, remembering that Vibes said he intended to use his copy of HouseProud's engine vibrations to pick his lock and clean him out.

She went outside, deciding that she would check a different newschip stand for house ads. "Hopefully, I'll find one that's legit this time," she thought. She sent up a little prayer to Megatron to this effect, and though she didn't realize it at the time, she got a little luck-up bonus for bothering. It was far from enough to ensure success, but it would increase her chances a bit.

Upon picking up another ad chip, she went through it and finally saw one small place in a better area than HouseProud's offering had been in. This house wasn't blasted-up, and there were no scroungers of any sort in the picture. However, there was what seemed to be a large factory as the next-door neighbor. On a biological planet, the noise from that would make it impossible to ever get a good sleep. However, as a robot, she could just turn down her hearing or outright turn it off if she wanted to. She wondered if there was anything else about the factory that would make the little house undesirable.

Still, she decided to check it out. She called the number in the ad and waited...

[Vallermoore]

BlasterPower arrived in her last body feeling pretty annoyed. She had not only failed to find a new place to live but had lost a body into the bargain. Still, she was determined to try again and sent a prayer for success to Megatron this time. She found another advert that seemed legit and called the number and soon got a call back from a bot who went by the name of Finder. When she flew to the needed location Finder was in a scout body. Such bodies were often more dangerous then they looked but he seemed friendly enough. The district was firmly middle class, neither highly posh like the Energon District, where the cost would be immense, nor low-class and full of Scroungers. In fact there were no Scroungers within sight at all, and only one scrounger with a small s collecting the trash. The house turned out to be near a somewhat smoky foundry, which was why the price was half what it would have been. "Not many bots want to live next to a foundry." She wondered if he was legit or not, hoping that he was.

*****
StrongTalon was pleased when he got all his memories back undamaged. The sort of Forintel instructors who taught bots how to use these tiny phone bodies had to be Certified Honest to stop them from hacking the trainees. Forintel did not want a reputation for that sort of thing or no bot would want to risk trying to join the agency. He was to sneak into an office and make sure he was picked up by one particular owner, who was a head of security for a fictional President. Forintel spied on a great many planets, not just ones that were soon going to be invaded and taken over. Clever One of Vallermoore didn't know it, but his mobile phone was in fact one of these bots. He sneaked in under cloaking, and got in despite bumping into another cloaked trainee. Then he found himself, to his delight, picked up and delivered to his target. Here he was able to get all sorts of information, including a couple of assassination plots, one by fanatical Ponyists and one by human terroists, and he sent all the information where it was needed and waited for more. The former changeling was in his element here.

[Victorious Decepticons]

Next to a Foundry

BlasterPower wasn't too thrilled with the foundry being there, but she liked how it depressed the property value of the place she was looking at. Inside, the house seemed fine, though there was a slight sooty cast to some of the walls.

"Say," she said, "isn't there some regulation that says that visible smoke is supposed to be scrubbed from foundry stacks? I remember that even the Main Foundry had clean-looking air..."

Finder groaned and showed dejected body language. "Yeah, but you know how it is. It's cheaper for this foundry to pay the local administrator to not-see his smoke than it is to buy a scrubber. It'll stay smoky until someone strong enough to kick his ass decides to insist on cleaner air. Still, it's not so bad. Just clean with a good solvent."

BlasterPower decided that overall, the place would be fine for now - mainly because of the price. However, like before, she insisted on getting confirmation that Finder not only had the standing to sell the house, but also gained that standing in a way that wouldn't result in someone blasting the door in the day she moved in.

After a trip to that neighborhood's DomIntel office, which charged more for info than the other one, the needed confirmation was obtained. She then went ahead with the deal, glad that nobody would be coming to reclaim the house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It didn't take long to move in since BlasterPower hadn't had time to accumulate a lot of junk to transport. Finder rekeyed the door lock and vault lock to her engine pattern, and that was pretty much it for now. Later, she would want to change those locks entirely, so as to make sure there were no hidden "keys" programmed in.

That evening, she found out why nobody wanted to live next to a foundry, and avoided these locations even more than other industrial places. She was suddenly jolted out of the game she'd been playing - by the sound of moaning, screaming, and desperate voices. It sounded like an audio track from Hell itself!

She quickly ran to her window, blaster ready to fight off whatever horde of demons was out there, only to see a gang of cocky-looking Scroungers pulling a big cart of about six living, but blasted-up, captives. They went into the foundry, and the loud voices went silent one by one. Not too long after that, the Scroungers came out with their cart now closed up. Its contents couldn't be seen, but it clearly still had contents. BlasterPower realized that it now contained the payment for the metal they'd brought in. Six captives would add up to 15,000 Cubes at the standard rates.

Just as she turned away from the window, the same sort of sounds came again. More Scroungers, with more captives.

This was still going on when BlasterPower adjusted her audio circuits so that she wouldn't hear that particular sort of noise, but could still hear other sounds.

As time went on, BlasterPower found that there was no way to predict when Scroungers would show up, or whether there'd only be a few or a lot. She could certainly see why a lot of people avoided living next to what was, at times, basically a slaughterhouse for failed Decepticons. At other times, though, the metal being processed was just scrap, or even materials brought in from other planets. Like most foundries on Cybertron, this foundry didn't really care where the metal it bought came from as long as it melted and wasn't full of contaminants.

A few nights later, she got to see other aspects of the operation. Suddenly, a bright red glow showed through the curtains on the foundry side of the house. Upon looking, she saw that hot slag was being dumped into a big pit out back. Several days later, after it had cooled, she was jarred out of her seat by a massive grinding noise. This turned out to be a huge grinder that turned the slag into tiny chips. These tough debris chips would used in any place where asphalt could also be used. Much of this material was sold to other nations, but some was used around work sites or to make off-world cargo-bot landing strips.

Then, just when she thought she'd seen and heard everything at the foundry, the place belched out so much smoke that it started visibly seeping through the older welds of BlasterPower's house, and in through a part of the roof that had seemed completely intact until now. When she angrily went to the window to see what was going on over there NOW, she saw foundrybots rushing out of the doors with their eyes almost completely dark. They soon flew up to their own roof - and that's when the sound of jet engines, roaring at full power, was heard. Blaster fire came next, but didn't seem to hit anything.

Later, she would find out that someone had sneaked up on the foundry's roof and planted a huge cork-like stopper - made of some sort of fireproof insulation material - in the smoking chimney. The unidentified person had gotten sick of the pollution. It took the foundrybots half a day to dislodge the thing, and until then, there was finally some peace and quiet since the place couldn't operate until the job was done.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Intelligence Academy, Lower Level

StrongTalon was soon delivered to the Chief of Security, but on the way up the elevator, he made sure to delete the "phone owner" information he had added. He figured the Chief would check that, and know it was a lie since he hadn't really owned that kind of a phone.

Sure enough, the Chief did check, but now found nothing strange. He wondered where the security/info people got the idea that it was his, but since it was such a nice model, he decided not to get rid of it just yet. "I'll just test it for a while," he said out loud. Then, with perfect acting, he "decided" to keep it as his primary communication unit.

As time went on, he and an unidentified person discussed many plots that were in the process of being thwarted. His office had infiltrated several suspicious groups, and even though many turned out to be nothing of actual importance, a few exceptions had arisen. He rattled off names. AntiFart, the Green Machine, Back to Basics, and the Technological Masters were some of them.

Upon hearing the name of the last group, StrongTalon put a digital flag on that part of the data. That sounded like something Decepticons would call themselves, he noted. Decepticons did have a tendency to brag about their technological superiority, sometimes to the point of almost giving themselves away (or, in a few cases, actually giving themselves away).

Everything seemed to be going well until one day, the Chief went to meet with the "president" of the country. During this meeting, someone called with an emergency message. The message itself was nothing all that special to StrongTalon - just a report that one of the president's cars would be in the shop longer than expected - but it resulted in something that would turn out to be a problem.

"Hey, where'd you get that phone?" The President asked as soon as the call ended.

"Oh, the building personnel brought it to me. They were sure it was mine! I decided to test it out, and after finding nothing with our antivirus or bug detectors, I decided to go ahead and keep it."

"What the hell! You know better than that!!! If you didn't have such a great track record, I'd fire you right now!" The President raged, knowing that a phone that just showed up out of the blue was almost surely not legit. "I'm ordering you to take a leave, NOW. Take a month off; you clearly need a break. Your second-in-command will take care of everything while you're gone. And give me that damn phone so I can have it properly examined and disposed of."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

StrongTalon knew that the jig was up. The examination would likely reveal nothing, other than that the insides of the phone weren't quite what the specs for the model called for. However, after that, the next stop would be the shredder. StrongTalon quickly uploaded the accumulated data.

As the data uploaded, the "updating" screen came on, just as planned. The President stared at it with the most extreme suspicion possible. He attempted to halt the update, to no avail. Then, he tried to shut off the phone, but it wouldn't obey. Finally, he tried to take out the battery, only to find that it was one of those newfangled models that requires a special tool to get the back open.

"Bah! This thing is bullshit! I wonder what country it came from," the president groused.

Finally, the "update" completed, and as the phone appeared to reboot itself, StrongTalon mind-transferred out. All that anyone who examined the phone would find would be...just a phone - at least when it came to the software. There would be no way for them to find out just what the extra chips within the housing had been for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once back in his main body, with his data restored, StrongTalon found himself looking right at the instructor.

"You did a great job," the instructor said. "Your ruse worked long enough to get a lot of information, and you did indeed correctly flag the Decepticon-run assassination plot."

After everyone had returned to their main bodies, the instructor announced that for this exercise, nobody had gotten prematurely deactivated. However, he noted that to truly be an effective phone-body spy, more practice would be needed. This was just the "introductory course," so to speak.

"For now, there won't be any more training in these bodies. We just wanted to make sure that you had basic familiarity, and that you saw how effective they can be for gathering information - as well as how quickly their usefulness can end."

"Your next assignment will be the final exam for this level of Academy training. Those that pass will be sworn in as Decepticon Foreign Intelligence agents. Take three days off to get some rest and mentally prepare."

"I will let you know in advance that the final exam will involve infiltrating a real foreign corporation using the guise of basic office equipment. We've already finagled the contract for replacing several units of failed equipment, via one of our front operations. As for how that equipment failed..." His eyes glowed connivishly, letting the cadets know that ForIntel had sabotaged the regular equipment so that the target company would be forced to buy more.

[Vallermoore]

Next to a Foundry

It turned out that this time the house was legitimately owned and not just owned by conquest and BlasterPower brought it, only to discover why living right next door to a foundry was not very good. It had regular deliveries of those Decepticons who had allowed themselves to get physically weak, brought there by Scroungers with a capital S. It was noisy and in this case dirty too, to the point where someone sneaked up and jammed a huge cork-like stopper in the chimney and fled successfully before the clearly furious foundrybots could find the perp and riddle him with blaster-fire. The house itself was comfortable though and being right next to a foundry and a filthy one at that meant that would be squatters were less of a problem. As she was down to her last body she knew she had to get enough Energon to buy a spare sooner or later for her own safety, as Cybertron was a dangerous place for most Decepticons.


Intelligence Academy, Lower Level

As a former changeling, StrongTalon turned out to be a very good spy, partly because he had been doing this sort of thing as a changeling. He sent back all kinds of useful information (if this had been a real spying mission) to the Forintel office. Eventually however he had to upload the data and mind transfer back to his main body before this one got shredded. It turned outy that he had done very well indeed and had one more exam to pass before he could join Forintel for real. It turned out that they would be infiltrating a weapons company on Dominia Fascista. Although this planet was at the back of the invasion queue as the Decepticons liked it's politics and even traded with it, selling it marble, they still spied on it just in case they discovered anything of interest.
"There are humans, ponies and changelings working there. Unlike most fascists, they don't have a problem working with each other. We are looking for anything hostile to us or our Empire in particular, and any really new types of weapons. Obviously don't upload any lies just to make them seem hostile. We may be Decepticons, but Forintel reports need to be honest."

[Victorious Decepticons]

While BlasterPower was eager to get another body, the Fists had already gone out of their way to help her with her financial situation. They'd gone on a raid to get her money for her first spare, which she was currently using, and then Buzz had worked a deal to finance the house she was in. She would have no choice now, at least not if she wanted to stay with the Fists: She would have to go on their next raid with them without a Spare, and pray that she didn't get deactivated. Then, she'd have to use her share of the loot to buy a new Spare.

Since Spares cost a minimum of 1,000,000 Cubes unless she built her own, the raid would have to be very successful for her to afford it in just one trip. If the raid was less lucrative, she'd have to do more than one without a Spare. Of course, she could choose the "build your own" option, which would eliminate the cost of labor (storebought ones had the cost of assembly hidden in their prices). Then, it'd only cost about 750,000 Cubes for the cheapest model, but it would take her quite a while to put together. Since it would be her first building effort, she would also have to be extra-careful not to make any mistakes. Mistakes with a project like this could cause her to fall out of the air or suffer a similar fate.

Even though she could use the schematics for her current body and the SEDP for the "book learning" part of such a project, she would lack the dexterity that came with practice, and this would both slow down a DIY attempt and make it more likely that there would be mistakes in the process. Buying a pre-built body was the safest course of action, and DIYing it the cheapest.

Most Decepticons kept at least one pro-built, off-the-shelf Spare, but also practiced making DIY versions over time. Once they had enough experience, they would switch to entirely homemade bodies, at least for basic versions. Complicated upgrades were still left to shops by most people, though those with a lot of AEDPs in engineering and aeronautics would do their own upgrades, too.

Of course, there were some people who would make their own bodies and upgrades despite NOT having a lot of experience or AEDPs for the endeavor, too. Decepticons in general were and are an incautious people, generally willing to thumb their noses at safety and take a risk. It was the direct experience of having a DIY body come crashing out of the sky that caused many of them to learn to be sure to have at least one known-good, pro-built Spare in their collection.

After considering it, BlasterPower decided that the best bet was to do some raiding and then buy a pro-built Spare as soon as possible. While there was danger in that, too, it was much easier to see if a missile was coming than it was to spot a mistake in a body that would include well over a million parts when it was completed. Plus, she knew that with that many parts involved, it would take ages to put it together. She wondered how the more-experienced Decepticons managed to get it done in a reasonable amount of time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, BlasterPower would ask Buzz about how most people got a DIY body done without it taking them years on end. He would explain that at first, it WOULD take years. However, as practice accumulated, the builder would develop scripts to automate their own body motions. Then, they could put it together much like factory automation, using their current body as the automaton. With machine-style efficiency attained, they only had to use conscious building for non-standard parts.

"It still takes at least a month, and usually two or three, because we need to take breaks for Energon and to maintain ourselves," Buzz would tell her. "We also triple-check every segment of the building process."

"The real point of building your own body isn't to save money. Such a project eats way too much time - time that could be spent raiding or otherwise making money - to actually be a savings. In fact, if you count the fact that you're not making money when you're building, a DIY body actually costs about 4,000,000 Cubes MORE than an equivalent off-the-shelf model. The REAL reason for DIYing is that everyone knows the weaknesses of storebought models - but not ones that you design and build yourself. Or one that LOOKS LIKE you designed and built it yourself, which is to say, a body that isn't recognizable as a mass-produced model."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Domestic Intelligence Warehouse

The cadets were given the address of a warehouse to report to, and StrongTalon arrived to find a nondescript building with a standard-sized, not giant, transport bot idling outside in plane mode. Inside, some other cadets had already arrived, and more were filing in as the meeting time approached. Though they all made sure to move as if they were at ease, there was obvious tension in the air.

Unlike at the changeling hive, this assignment would require the cadets to remain in position until a set extraction date. It would also cause at least somewhat of an international incident if discovered, possibly resulting in embargoes or tariffs being placed on trade between the two nations.

The assignment would last for six months, if everything went right. After that, the "equipment lease" would end, and the front company would claim that they couldn't renew it on this particular set of machines because they had been "bought" by some other person. Other machines would be offered, and whether or not they had minds in them would depend on whether ForIntel thought a specific area was worth continued surveillance.

StrongTalon began to look around the warehouse, first just with his eyes, and then by walking around as if bored. He soon saw a stack of empty boxes with "Nivalis Business Equipment" written on the side, along with a thick sheet of fabric. Finally, he found what he was looking for: A collection of office machines. These, however, were not like the ones from the Training Academy. They were all different from each other, with some being suited to common areas and others clearly meant for the offices of specific individuals. There was no way to guess which one he would be assigned to.

"It's always nice to see a cadet eager to get into his assignment!" A familiar voice said. StrongTalon turned around to see none other than General Soundwave himself had been watching him.

After a salute and a few quick pleasantries, Soundwave beckoned for StrongTalon to join the rest of the cadets, who were now waiting together. Once there, Soundwave gave them a quick rundown of the assignment, and assigned a specific piece of equipment to each one.

"You'll be that PBX machine," Soundwave told StrongTalon, indicating a boring-looking, basic black equipment-type box with plenty of spots for landline connections. It had a small nameplate with 'Nivalis Business Equipment' engraved on it.

A PBX machine, StrongTalon would learn, was responsible for routing all of the calls in an office landline phone system. As such a machine, StrongTalon would be able to listen to, and record, every call that went in and out of the office through its official system. "Domina Fascista is advanced in some ways, but behind in others. Business telephony is one area where they are behind. They believe that it is still more secure to use landlines than wireless phones, perhaps because - they think - it requires getting up on a pole and literally tapping the wire to listen in, or at least planting a physical bug on a phone to transmit the information. If you do your mission well, they will continue to believe this, never knowing that you listened to all of the calls at Fascist Hammer, Incorporated."

This PBX machine was not an IP phone system like the ones common on Earth just before the invasion. It was at least one tech iteration behind, and maybe more. Normally, it used an analog system for setting up business extensions and routing calls. This made it quite cumbersome for whoever had to set it up or make changes. However, it also made it so that users wouldn't even think of looking for advanced electronics within. It was a simple matter to hide mind-boards, recording boards, and other upgrades behind a false back.

"Of course," Soundwave went on, "you are to listen to anything people are saying while around you or within earshot. Either you'll hear very little, being stuck in the 'phone room,' or you'll hear plenty. Sometimes, people use rooms like those to have secret conversations. If they do, you may hit pay dirt. Either that, or you'll just get a view of people doing that biological reproductive thing right in front of you..." Soundwave seemed a bit disgusted, but StrongTalon couldn't tell if it was the sordid affairs that he was put off by, or just the basic fact that biologicals reproduced by sex instead of assembly. "Since you were a biological, I will remind you to be extra-careful to stay silent and undercover if it turns out that some people are using the phone room as a sex room. PBX machines are not supposed to be aware of anything, much less have opinions."

One by one, Soundwave gave details like this to each cadet, and then they went over to the equipment. Several low-level Intelligence workers, who were assistants rather than spies, stood by to box up all of the office machines once they contained cadet minds.

Soundwave concluded, "By the way, Nivalis means 'snow' or 'of the snow.' We chose it because this operation involves a 'snow job' on the target." He did not chuckle. This wasn't because he didn't see the humor in it, but because he thought it was funnier to watch the cadets try to figure out whether they should laugh or not. They all decided to maintain stone faces because the General did.

"Good," Soundwave said after noticeable silence. "Being able to keep a straight face when presented with comments that could cause reflex reactions is important for not giving yourselves away on assignments. We really did name it that because selling them these machines is a snow job, though." At this point, his eyes got a little brighter,

After everyone did their mind-transfers, they indeed experience being put in boxes, hearing the boxes get covered with some kind of fabric to hide the "company name" prior to their destination, and getting carried out to the transport while underneath this fabric. Then, after a quick flight, they recognized the massive roaring engine noises of the Cargo Zone. However, they would not go to Domina Fascista in a cargo-bot. Instead, a smaller cloaked transport awaited them. They were loaded onto this bot, who was part of ForIntel. There was an android-bodied agent already inside, dressed as a sort of warehouse worker type, though the cadets couldn't see him through their boxes. Since everyone was with ForIntel, they could talk all the way to Domina Fascista, and they learned quite a bit about the place during the trip.

Just before arrival, the android agent removed the fabric cover. Right after, while just out of binocular range, the transport bot decloaked, revealing the insignia of a Domina Fascistan shipping company. Not long after, they landed, and were duly taken to the target company's headquarters on trucks.

Exactly as planned, the boxes were well-received, and were quickly cut open along their tape lines by a crew of Fascist Hammer receiving crew workers. Soon, they were all carried to their respective positions, with no one thinking anything was amiss. In fact, once they were where they needed to go, the recipients were quite glad to get the "latest" office machines.

Soon, StrongTalon was plugged in, but it would indeed take about 5 days for the technicians to get all of the phones plugged in and all of the extension numbers assigned. This body came with all of the internals needed to function as a PBX machine of old, and it didn't fail to frustrate them with glitches, touchy installation sequence requirements, and other arcane quirks. Still, they did eventually manage to get the job done, and StrongTalon overheard some cheers from outside of the room when the phones finally started working.