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Post by Hook on Apr 16, 2007 23:02:52 GMT -5
<Acknowledged. Buildings would be most useful, though let me know if you find running water.>
Hook tucked the specimen box back into place in his toolkit, reset all the racks where they belonged, and shut the lid. A small light blinked twice as it resealed itself, then the Constructicon tucked it back into subspace.
He stood up and watched the Stunticon drive away. A thought flickered across his mind, dark and undefinable and scalpel-sharp. It would be very easy...
No. He did not take the easy way out.
<I'll be along.>
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Dead End
Major
Yes, we're all doomed. I already knew that.
Posts: 797
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Post by Dead End on Apr 17, 2007 13:23:54 GMT -5
The odd sing-song of the metal road under his tires rapidly becomes familiar as Dead End speeds on.
// T+10 check: just more grass on either side. //
The endless miles of dull green pampas grass walling in the road was starting to wear on Dead End. He was going to drive in this endless sea of grass until his fuel ran dry, expire, and have it grow over his rusting remains--and no one would ever know what had become of Dead End.
The column of army ant-like critters across the road was a welcome diversion as his tires crunched through them. The scent of hot baked bug mixed with the hot rubber of his tires.
// T+20 check: crushed a meter-wide column of very small crunchy creatures crossing the road. More grass. //
Along the next twenty miles of road, Dead End found himself weaving around meter-wide elliptical shells, the husks of some creature that had failed to survive crossing the blazingly hot black metal surface.
// T+30 check: passed several empty shells on the road. Have I mentioned the grass? //
Some fifty miles down the road, Dead End threw his brakes on hard, and yanked his wheels over into a skid, sliding to a stop right at the edge of a sharp drop-off. Twisted ribbons of metal trailed down into a very deep gulley. Had his radar not warned him of a change in the road ahead, Dead End might well have gone sailing off the end of the road, much to his embarrassment. His radar picked up other irregularities ahead--small buildings, perhaps.
Far below, water rushed over gravel.
// T+40 check: Road washed out; there is a deep gullied stream running southwest that has undermined the road here. My radar has picked out some smaller structures a few miles down the road from the washout. Halted; awaiting your instructions regarding the running water. //
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Post by Hook on Apr 19, 2007 14:04:49 GMT -5
The check-ins from Dead End every ten minutes lightened Hook's mood considerably. Certainly, he was stranded on an alien planet with no infrastructure to support himself in the manner to which he was accustomed, but the road itself proved that could be fixed. Additionally, he wasn't alone, and he had somehow wound up with a mechanism that he could easily tolerate for long period's of time.
He ignored the arthropods crunching under his wheels to turn his attention to the sky. Still no clouds, no clouds at all. However, the sun was gradually shifting down towards the horizon. It would be hours yet before it set, but set it would.
As well, this seemed to be single star system, so he didn't have to fret about that obstruction to his astronomy.
A small hexaped burst from the grass and darted across the road in front of him, bleating in terror. Hook catalogued his impressions quickly: lithe, oddly-shaped hooves, feathery fur raised in a crest down its spine, dull brown-grey in color, small obsidian horns shaped like the stalks of Egyptian papyrus.
Hook did not brake. Nor did he hit the animal as it bound into the grass on the other side.
Very fast, he noted and pulled to a stop. He transformed and looked curiously at the side of the road the creature had come from, waiting to see what was chasing it.
A wind stirred through the grass, but nothing else moved the plants. Hook briefly considered switching to infrared, then dismissed it. Plants the galaxy over tended to reflect infrared light.
He transformed back to crane-mode. As his sensors switched to the ones facing down the road, he caught the rustle of grass on the opposite side of the road. Brief, small, most likely the grass shifting back into place after something went through it.
"Clever," he murmurred. "It went behind me."
// T+40 check: Road washed out; there is a deep gullied stream running southwest that has undermined the road here. My radar has picked out some smaller structures a few miles down the road from the washout. Halted; awaiting your instructions regarding the running water. //
Dead End's radio check and report made him speed up slightly. Running water! A possible settlement nearby! Once again, his decisions had proven correct.
//How deep is the gully? How fast is the water moving? If it's moving fairly quickly, wait for me there. If it's not, continue scouting ahead.// A pause. //Actually, in either case, continue on and scout those structures. We don't want any surprises from the natives.//
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Dead End
Major
Yes, we're all doomed. I already knew that.
Posts: 797
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Post by Dead End on Apr 19, 2007 15:07:31 GMT -5
Dead End transformed and looked down into the gully.
// Radar indicates that it is 7.62 meters deep from the road level. The depth of the gully compared to the water depth--it is less than a meter deep--suggests that this may be the dry season. I will cross and continue scouting on the other side. Dead End out. //
Dead End studied the washed out gully. Really, he could almost leap the gap in the road. With a short burst from his lifters--far more fuel-conserving than just flying across--he could definitely jump the gap. Unless, of course, his lifters failed in mid-jump, in which case he'd slam into the gully wall and fall down into the gully, probably breaking something unrepairable in this remote locale.
Dead End turned and walked back down the road to get himself a running start. One, two, three--with a boost from his lifters, he jumped. Dead End landed a good thirty feet beyond the gap on the other side. Once there, he transformed and continued on down the road.
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Apr 21, 2007 1:48:17 GMT -5
At first the red glow was faint, distant, fading in and out of existence without form or shape. It was a familiar... dream. The kind of dreams a low ranked, factory built had; the dreams of red lights and blackness. Sometimes the red lights became optics of familiar people, highlighting faces that smiled or scowled or simply stared on emotionlessly into the very depths of her spark.
Such dreams had never stopped bothering her for some reason.
Defragmation cycle, complete.
Finally, there was sensation, the welcomed break from the monotone of recharge. The problem was that the sensation was something that the flier had never felt before. It was hard to describe; it reminded her vaguely of sitting in a pool of diluted acid on the edge of a rusty lake. It didn’t itch like it though, and there were… there was… something… in it that felt nothing like the rough texture of rust. It was soft, for one, pliable and… and it was kind of like the really old clump of grease that she’d tried to remove from Heckadeck’s joints earlier on, right down to the pieces of grit that was in it.
The hum of machinery coming online scattered some of the local flying insect-like wildlife that’d used the mass of cool blue metal as their perch. Air vents hissed and billowed out a plume of faded gray that made the nearby grass sift and sway, bristling from the polluted air. And then a faint ticking noise was heard before a piece of debris was coughed unceremoniously out of a head vent.
“… Lighter?” Skystrike murmured her optics snapping online with a click as she abruptly sat up, causing the muddy puddle of water to scatter and raising an explosion of color as the thousands of insects rose from the wet banks of the pool in a panicked flurry. In barely a breath, they filled the warm, humid air with a deafening hum. The blue seeker yelped and backpedaled, her air vents suddenly filled with the chatter and flutters of unhappy bugs as they crawled and buzzed about like insane nano-machines.
“Aaaaugh!” The thunderous and low baritone cry reverberated out across the plains as Skystrike crashed through the grass swiping and firing her shoulder cannons blindly. She emerged from the cloud of flying critters a moment later, optics bright and wings snapped back in tension as swarms of insects were thrown off her wings, shoulders and everywhere else in general. Without a second thought, she ignited her thrusters and rose up into the air leaving behind the scent of burnt organic material and colorful confetti-like pieces of falling bug wings in her wake.
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Post by Hook on Apr 21, 2007 21:18:24 GMT -5
Hook does not cackle maniacally. That's more Mixmaster's forte than is, but when Dead End reports the depth of the gully. Yes! Yes! The world is his! Survival is all but assured at this point.
He wishes Mixmaster were here. A good cackle would be quite fitting right now.
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Dead End
Major
Yes, we're all doomed. I already knew that.
Posts: 797
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Post by Dead End on Apr 23, 2007 18:13:03 GMT -5
Dead End, who is not yet aware of the slowly-wakening Seeker in the distant pond, continues down the black metal road. He cuts his engines and lets himself roll to a stop as the radar image of the structures resolves into a two large and one much smaller building. His optics tell him much the same thing.
The architecture is alien, not like Earth or Cybertron. Two long, round-ended buildings with external supports ridging the sides stood at right angles to one another. Both were set back from the main roadway across an expanse of the same black metal paving. In front of the buildings, in the middle of the expanse of paving, was a rack of... something. Cables, perhaps. The air shimmered from the heat rising off the black metal. Only the wind-tossed grass beyond moved.
// Hook, I've come to the small group of structures, which I am observing from a short distance. There's a decided resemblance to a gas station here. I see no inhabitants or vehicles. I will be moving in to scout the area more thoroughly; is there anything you wish me to look for in particular? Bearing in mind that this may be a trap and I may not get the chance to make another report. //
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Apr 24, 2007 11:13:28 GMT -5
What was this? Lighter’s radio wasn’t responding, neither was anyone else’s. She’d been trying for the past ten minutes with little result, only the harsh and unnerving noise of static answering her calls. Panic was beginning to well up in her like a tank of acid that was about to be burned through, but she suppressed it; Skystrike couldn’t afford to panic now, she had to find her comrades. Cutting the power to her thrusters, she peered down at the landmass that was stretched out below her. Gone were the familiar jagged, rust eaten plains of pipes of the wastelands, gone were the wrecks and the skeletons of high rising buildings and the frozen atmosphere that clung and glittered on them under the icy stars.
Where was she? There was too much green. Far too much; there was an eerie sense of displacement as the dull verdant sea undulated in the breezes that ran over it. She’d never seen so much green in her life, not even on earth despite the fact that the color covered a lot of the globe from what the seeker had seen the physical maps during her briefings. It looked like the back of a creature the flier had seen in a xenobiologist’s lab she’d had the misfortune of visiting one day, its green spikes bristling as the doctor poked and prodded it with various apparatuses that were more befitting of the title of torture instruments.
There was an eerie emptiness to the place, a different kind of eerie emptiness from the shadows of broken skyscrapers. Different from the kind of emptiness that Skystrike was used to. Then, the seeker spotted white, organic avian creatures flying in a formation, briefly disrupting the monotonous color of the grass as they flew silently over it uttering the occasional high pitched “gronk!” noise. Skystrike shifted uneasily, the unwanted and rather unfamiliar sensation of being lost overcoming her. How could she have gotten lost? She’d been awake, she’d been watching over the fuel carriers as they drifted down the dark, debris covered path before them with her vision at the maximum zoom and her sensory equipment going off at the slightest sign of potential enemies. She had three maps of the forgotten city state, she had two of her assigned trine members scout ahead to keep watch; she even had the useless outdated tourist hologram maps of the area.
Skystrike couldn’t be lost. She was sure. A warp gate must’ve malfunctioned somewhere, how else could she have ended up on an alien planet without the team in sight? She had to get back to them somehow. She had a job to do, people to protect and energy starved military posts that needed the DFD to arrive and deliver on time.
But how? The seeker snarled as she went into energy saving mode, knowing full well that if there wasn’t any form of civilization on this planet, then she would be doomed to starving until her system was locked down in a stasis lock for stars knew how long. She hated stasis lock enough as it was, she didn’t want to get stuck in the mode for the rest of her existence, much less die in such a state!
Speaking of civilization though… Skystrike looked out across the vast expanse of an alien and seemingly all-too-serene of a world. Out of the corner of her optics, despite her rather low latitude and the moving grass, she spotted something; a path cutting through the grass that was far too straight to be made by any animal. It took a few minutes of analysis and it had been almost too far away to see in normal vision but with a quick zoom she spotted the trail as if it were a neon sign.
In an instant, the memory of spaceships popped in her processor and her thoughts quickly derailed and reset on a new set of tracks. Maybe, just maybe, there was a Decepticon military post here somewhere. She’d heard and seen the off-world expeditions that were sent to take over planets and faraway colonies. There just might be one here. Or even a neutral or an Autobot post? Neutrals didn’t care about factions and Autobots, well, they were often gullible enough to admit a seeker without any symbols on as long as she acted mellow enough for their liking. It couldn’t be too hard, could it?
At the time, it was a seemingly futile hope, but Skystrike was Skystrike and if there was hope –no matter how idiotic or futile- then she would sink her claws into the moment she could. She couldn’t give up.
She wouldn’t.
With that conviction in mind, she activated her radio and inputted the most recent Decepticon frequency number before broadcasting it as she set her thrusters on low power before tilting her wings and flying off towards the trail she’d spotted.
//“This is Skystrike of the Cybertronian Decepticon army, please respond. I repeat, this is Skystrike of the Cybertronian Decepticon army, please respond.”// It was always safe to start with your allies first.
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Post by Hook on Apr 24, 2007 13:30:30 GMT -5
// Hook, I've come to the small group of structures, which I am observing from a short distance. There's a decided resemblance to a gas station here. I see no inhabitants or vehicles. I will be moving in to scout the area more thoroughly; is there anything you wish me to look for in particular? Bearing in mind that this may be a trap and I may not get the chance to make another report. //
Hook considers the matter, unaware of the Seeker finally in the air. His own radar is rather feeble compared to Dead End's; it is a poor replacement for his optics when he needs some sort similar sensors.
//Investigate to determine if it is abandoned and not effectively booby-trapped. If you happen to magically find a turbine, let me know. Otherwise, I'll be along shortly to investigate myself.//
He's just come to the gully, and he transforms and peers over the edge. Good, good. The depth of the gully left him plent of room to start building up a reservoir without having to expand the area into a lake immediately.
//If you happen to be able to determine what material the structures are made of, as well as what fuel is in use if this actually is a gas station, let me know.//
After all, the fuel might be something easily translateable into energon. He doesn't trust that it will be, though.
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Dead End
Major
Yes, we're all doomed. I already knew that.
Posts: 797
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Post by Dead End on Apr 24, 2007 13:42:22 GMT -5
Dead End replies, // Acknowledged, Dead End out,// and rolls forward. His radar sweep picks up something far to the southwest just as he rolls onto the metal tarmac.
// Hook, update. I have just acquired a sensor target to the southwest. Velocity and reflectivity suggest a metal-hulled aircraft, possibly a jet or high-performance gravitic vehicle. Position is approximately at our appearance point. // He pauses for a moment, processing the radar track of the target. // It appears to be following our path, and will be at your position shortly. Any last words? //
Dead End follows through with an updated map transmission to Hook, and a live tactical feed from his radar, showing the unknown's real-time position and velocity.
Then he hears the radio transmission:
//This is Skystrike of the Cybertronian Decepticon army, please respond. I repeat, this is Skystrike of the Cybertronian Decepticon army, please respond.//
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Post by Hook on Apr 24, 2007 16:41:35 GMT -5
//Acknowledged, Dead End.//
Hook does not have 'last words'. He has words that happen to be cut off by explosions in the immediate vicinity. Should he happen to die while talking, it won't be some rousing speech or pithy comment he was delivering.
Reported incoming aerial danger had only one response when there was no one else to set on it: transform to vehicle-mode and arm the rocket-launcher.
Then the hail comes over the general Decepticon channel: //This is Skystrike of the Cybertronian Decepticon army, please respond. I repeat, this is Skystrike of the Cybertronian Decepticon army, please respond.//
He answers authoritively, //Air unit Skystrike, this is Hook of the Constructicons. Report your status and location.//
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Apr 24, 2007 18:29:54 GMT -5
//Air unit Skystrike, this is Hook of the Constructicons. Report your status and location.//
Skystrike pitched upwards briefly, surprised despite herself. So there were others on this planet! This was great—!
Waitamoment.
Hook? Constructicons? She remembered Hook, he was the mech she’d been carrying things around for during her time on earth. She’d only seen glimpses of him though since it was often someone else who’d come to tell her what she needed to do. The Constructicons were on Earth last time she checked, how could he have ended up here? Was he on a work trip of some kind that she didn’t know about? Well, whatever it was it was the seeker was either incredibly lucky or… She didn’t want to think of another reason, really.
//“…”// Realizing she’d gone quiet for a bit too long, the seeker quickly started answering. Status? What was her status? //“I’m a bit dinged up but I’ll be fine. Sir.”// Skystrike added quickly realizing that she’d probably been a bit too casual. Really, she should’ve been used to that by now considering the fact that she was lower ranked than pretty much every Decepticon on earth and quite a lot of others on Cybertron. //“I have very little data on my current location but I am flying over a lot of grass and some trees, following a distinct trail that I’m pretty do not belong to wildlife. Any orders, sir?”//
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Dead End
Major
Yes, we're all doomed. I already knew that.
Posts: 797
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Post by Dead End on Apr 24, 2007 20:48:40 GMT -5
Dead End circled the parking lot--that's what it looked like to him--and barely had time to note anything beyond that one of the buildings had what looked like large, bay-type doors along one side, and that the tarmac extended along the backside of the closest building. Also, the rack of cables seemed to be a rack of cables attached to the rack at one end and ending in some kind of receptacle.
'Recharging station' immediately suggested itself to Dead End. There was a dish antenna on the roof of what Dead End thought of as the main building. The other building, the one with all the bay doors, he dubbed 'the garage'.
With a growl of his engine, Dead End sped back down the road toward the gully and Hook. Hook hadn't requested help, but wouldn't it be unfortunate if the 'Decepticon Seeker' turned out to be something else entirely? Or what if it was, but had been alone in the wilderness for a bit too long? Dead End had heard some grisly tales from the old Cybertron Decepticons of what they did when fuel and parts got scarce enough...
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Post by Hook on Apr 24, 2007 22:19:33 GMT -5
Hook listens to Skystrike's reply. He still sits in vehicle-mode, rocket-launcher armed and ready.
//Continue to follow that trail until you come to a black road, then turn east. You will eventually arrive at my location.//
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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Apr 25, 2007 9:40:50 GMT -5
//Continue to follow that trail until you come to a black road, then turn east. You will eventually arrive at my location.//
Skystrike faltered for a moment, or at least, faltered as much as a jet flying at high speeds could. She didn’t remember there being any other earth-like planets in the solar system with the minor exception of the Fourth planet, but last she checked, the Fourth planet lacked any kind of organic life. Cybertron was in the same solar system as well so that ruled out the possibility of Hook being anywhere near the outer reaches of the system.
//“Yes, sir.”//
So what in the name of the stars was Hook doing all the way out here? Did he land here because of the same mysterious reason she’d been awoken here? It wasn’t unlikely, it could’ve even been for the same reason. Or… Or this was a trap. The inhabitant of the planet might not actually be very Cybertronian friendly for whatever reason and they’d somehow caught her broadcast and now they were trying to bring her down using the guise of Hook. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities. Twitching her ailerons slightly the flier slowly climbed as her sensors alerted her to the presence of metal below. A moment later, the flier watched as the glimmer of black came into sight and swerved east, staying high in the sky at an altitude she could only hope was out of reach of any potential weaponry. The farther away she was, the more chance she had of getting away; she wanted to live and get back to Cybertron, not die on some alien world because she was stupid enough to attract the aggressive locals.
Skystrike upped the calibration of her system to battle efficiency and primed her guns as her scanners caught an unusual bump in the road. She quickly zoomed in, the laser beam shifting at precisely calculated angles to her movement as her vision cleared and—
It was Hook. It was hard to miss the garish green coloring that the Constructicons had, much less forget it, especially when one had seem them combine to become Devastator. The seeker relaxed marginally feeling distinctly a bit loopy now although she wasn’t sure if it was self induced or a result of some kind of virus. It could be a virus. A virus that made her hallucinate about green planets, black roads and Hook. Hey, maybe this was all Hook’s fault; he created a virus that made her hallucinate about him on a green planet with a black road, he certainly seemed smart enough to do it.
It was a pretty stupid virus though. And a bit creepy.
Especially now that Skystrike realized that he had his rocket launcher aimed up at her.
//“… Uh. Good day, sir?”// The blue flier said unsure of what else to do now that her half-defragmented thoughts had happily collapsed in a pile of conspiracy theoretic chaos.
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