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Post by Skystrike/Skylar Stringers on Jul 22, 2007 17:26:58 GMT -5
General disruption? That’d have been far too easy if the ground troops hadn’t arrived already. There was a good reason why earth jets weren’t allowed to fly so low to the ground after all. Nonetheless, it was general disruption she would have to concoct and without harming the other Decepticons or destroying the station. Very well then. This was going to be one terribly awkward fight.
Skystrike uttered an annoyed rumble as she split away from Starscream –just in to avoid the shot from the blue Autobot that nearly nicked her left canard. The jet didn’t bother to pause and let her self be startled by the fact that she’d been shot at. She was far too old for that: instead she accelerated, turning her antigravs off to lose altitude until her powerful slipstream left a thick trail of disturbed black desert dust in her wake.
She was nearly breaking the sound barrier by the time she swooped over him, leaving the resulting shockwaves behind for the Autobot to taste as she pulled up and transformed.
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Post by Perceptor on Jul 22, 2007 19:10:40 GMT -5
Perceptor's attention is quite thoroughly split; incoming - and outgoing - transmissions from Xaaron and the other Autobots on one sub-routine, tracking the battle and the responses of the "sunflowers" on another sub-routine, sorting through the images provided by Xaaron and plotting potential repairs on yet another sub-routine, with the lion's share of his attention consumed by the puzzle of the "sunflowers" themselves. Tracking the battle, and more importantly, his place and/or safety in said battle, is a distant last concern for the moment. He appears to have gone unnoticed for the time being - remaining small and not opening fire to draw undue attention to himself while he sorts through the chaos appears to have had merit.
There must be some answer to the puzzle of the flowers. Something overlooked. Unless these plants had sprung up in the interim of this facility having been abandoned and the unexplained arrival of the various transformers from their various realities, then there must be some sort of key to the flowers' responses. Granted, having not seen the interior of the power station itself, Perceptor is finding it hard to believe that any such facility could be constructed in such a manner as to never require maintenance, upkeep, some sort of intervention from an exterior force.
Given such, the placement of such a... blind and all encompassing defense system makes no sense. What engineer wishes to fight his way through a field of solar lasers every time he or she needs to adjust a bit of machinery or recalibrate a system? Particularly if the field of "sunflowers" - that name is going to stick, now - had truly been as expansive as the soil analysis seems to indicate. The placement of the plants appears far too deliberate for their presence here to be nothing more than an opportunist species being allowed a foothold after the loss of the caretakers of the facility.
There must be a key. He's just missing it somehow.
Even if such a key or safety mechanism had been part and parcel of the engineers and maintenance folk assigned to this facility, there would need to be some way of... of... inputting it, displaying it, and the most logical placement for such an interface...
Would be here. Where the angle of the road crested to grant line of sight to the defensive sunflowers.
Jets scream overhead, the flowers unable to track quickly enough to hit. It won't be long before the Decepticons note that, and then further note that the building itself grants some protection from the sunflowers themselves once one gets beyond their influence.
They cannot allow the Decepticons to gain control of this facility.
Perceptor turns his attention to the road he sits on, to every surface, to the thin margins of the road before it drops off sharply to the desert and scrub floor far below the mesa. If this is the logical placement there must be some sign of some-
The sheer drop of the mesa's sides, and the road that leads up the face of the mesa, is given to disturbance as erosion and time slowly eat away at the stone and sand. Here, though, right in the verge between roadway and drop, is a path that has been more disturbed than the rest. More regularly disturbed, and replaced often.
This can be no coincidence. Time is short; he will not continue to go unnoticed for long, particularly not now that he's transformed and is digging quickly through that loosened and repacked soil with his hands, but what other choice has he?
Metal. His fingers hit metal, and he scrabbles quickly to brush the crumbling stone and dirt and sand away, revealing a small metal box. The sounds of not-so-distant combat roll over him, unheard, as he withdraws the box with the wires protruding from the side and all, from the hole where it had been tucked carefully away.
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Post by Starfighter on Jul 22, 2007 22:48:57 GMT -5
Uh, Skystrike? Site defenses, a little help over here?
Starfighter resigned himself to taking out the defenses on his own. At least it was better than fighting actual Autobots with actual intelligence and--ow!
"It shot me!" the seeker muttered to himself in shock. Guns were supposed to do that, yes, but it was startling all the same. He kept moving and shooting, trying to pretend he was actually as good as the average Decepticon grunt. The shots stung at his wings but he managed, through luck more than anything else, to keep himself in the air.
As long as he stayed on the far side of the building, he'd be all right.
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Post by Demolishor on Jul 22, 2007 23:11:13 GMT -5
//I mean as in direction and target, uranium head.// Oh, screw this. Now he's almost starting to miss Thrust and his detailed if flawed plans. But spray and pray's worked in the past, it might as well work now.
Demolishor transforms and starts charging up the ridge, firing in the Autobot general direction. He doesn't see anyone he has a specific grudge against, so he fires at the best and closest target he can find. The pink one stands out from the rocks pretty well, and he might as well start with a skinny one. The skinny ones are always trouble, you never get blatant deception from a nice stocky tank.
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Wheelie
Rookie
Can't sleep. Sharkticons will eat me.
Posts: 191
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Post by Wheelie on Jul 23, 2007 0:01:54 GMT -5
Wheelie could not actually be said to be taking part in the fighting. Instead, he was crouching behind a rock and watching the other people fight.
He should have been happy. Here he was, sporting a shiny purple Predacon symbol, accepted by people who had gone quite out of their way to help him and make him feel accepted, and yet...
"If jealous 'bots are supposed to be worse, how come we went and attacked first?"
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Shortround
Minor
Breaker of the Fourth Wall
Posts: 272
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Post by Shortround on Jul 23, 2007 4:10:24 GMT -5
Shortround hovered after Hook, wanting to stay near someone who was less likely to die, but as the green Constructicon climbed up the mountain he stopped.
"Slag, I can't do that in vehicle mode..." he said, hovering around the spot. He was ordered to provide support, but he still had a cargo...
Well, if they didn't want the cargo to get sand on it, they should have said so. Shortround swerved and opened his door, dropping the Sky-Bitten items somewhere behind a rock before he transformed, staying with the goods. However, he activated his cyber-key, the blue transparent device flying out of no where and plunging into Shortround's back, turning the twin engines on his back into two large warheads.
Shortround could wait for an Autobot to come around here, or further orders. Either way, he wasn't in the line of fire at the moment. However, he did notice that something felt... Wrong about the Cyber-Key process, but gun fight going on was a little more concerning.
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Post by Hook on Jul 23, 2007 13:19:47 GMT -5
Hook pauses below the rim of the mesa, then turns around to examine the battle-field again. Jets and explosions, explosions and jets. One black roadway winding its way up from the bottom, amidst sharp, craggy red rock. Where, of course, the mesa isn't purely vertical.
The scream of jet-engines, the zap! of lasers, the roar of bombs dropping... It's all very familiar. Ignorable, even.
He scans the area carefully- What is Perceptor doing over there? Is he carrying something?
//Fleetwind, Starfighter, continue destroying the power-station's defenses. Is someone occupying Perceptor? Keep his attention away from me, but try not to obliterate him.//
The green crane turns and moves through the air towards the red scientist. If Perceptor has discovered something of use... Far be it from Hook to let the Autobot take advantage of it.
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Fleetwind
Major
The Chancellor, His Eminent Grandeur, Marquis Fleetwind. The Insurgent Subduer of A Non-Threatening Cute Little Furry Kitten
Twined Elf
Posts: 730
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Post by Fleetwind on Jul 23, 2007 13:43:10 GMT -5
Fleetwind continues his strafing run against the flowers. 1 As he starts to near the station itself, he begins to pull up sharply, climbing ever higher until he's well above the mesa, the station, the battle, ceasing fire when the plants are no longer in view. Once he's reached sufficient altitude, he intentionally stalls his engines and twists his arlions, causing him to sharply tumble on his verticle axis (yaw). Once he's pointed downwards once more he re-fires his engines and begins to rapidly dive, leveling out as he once more nears the plateau. This lets him fly back over the laser shooting plants of death at a speed similar to the one he crossed them the first time, once more strafing the things as he flies by. He does take a moment to radio while doing all of this. //I think I saw Sky-Byte going after Perceptor on my way down, sir.// 1 And boy, doesn't that sentence sound silly?
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Post by SceneMod on Jul 23, 2007 16:16:36 GMT -5
At first, nothing. Then, as the dial goes up and up, there's a... change in the air. It takes a moment for this change to be processed on the conscious level: it's a humming, incredibly low pitched, covering several frequencies at once. It appears to be emanating from the power plant itself. And it's getting louder...
As the strange humming increases, the flowers... calm. Their firing at the jets flying overhead becomes less and less frantic. And then, when the sound reaches its crescendo, they stop all together, still and harmless as ordinary plants for as long as the strange noise continues.
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Omega Supreme
Minor
Shorter and Coloured Funny but Still Angry as the Pit
Posts: 456
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Post by Omega Supreme on Jul 23, 2007 16:53:40 GMT -5
Fire.
There is an inferno in the sky, raging and white hot. It shrouds a bright orange rocket, re-entering the atmosphere.
Omega Supreme's trying to fly smoothly, he really is. He has fragile contents. Most of all, he's just trying to fly fast. His contents also have a swiftly approaching expiry date.
There is loud clinking and popping as his parts expand from the heat, but inside his cabin stays cool and deceptively placid. The view from his windows is amazing, however.
Then, he slams into the ground, rocket slashing a deep furrow in the black land below the butte. The earth shakes, and rock shatters. While he'd love to land on some Decepticons, he picks a spot away from the battles and the sunflowers, not wanting to smash an Autobot by mistake. His base, track, and tank components appear, and the tower hoists up rocket component into proper position.
There can be no doubt. Omega Supreme has arrived. Let the Decepticons know fear.
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Post by Starfighter on Jul 23, 2007 17:46:21 GMT -5
Omega Supreme.
Omega slagging Supreme.
And Starfighter had been doing so well, too.
The seeker couldn't even manage a graceful descent as his systems seized up and began to overheat. He shuddered and wavered from side to side, barely able to to stay in the air as he slammed into the side of the building and wavered away again. A stutter of his thrusters made him shoot higher into the air and then slam down on the inside of one of the 'wings' of the building. The hapless jet slide down the wall until he fell into the courtyard on his side.
Well, at least no one else would see him down here.
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Post by Kup on Jul 23, 2007 19:33:46 GMT -5
That's right, lads (and lass). The cavalry has finally arrived!
The first down the ramp is that old war horse, Kup. For all that he complains about the thoughtless of youth, very often you can bet he'll be right at the head of a charge. The difference is, at his age, he knows what he's doing when he's pulling these stunts!
He doesn't withdraw his weapon, however, doesn't say anything (save over the radio). Instead, he just takes a moment to catch his bearings, then searches around for those two desperate youths he made a promise to over the radio. And there... a bit to the south, a flying robot and another being held up by a much larger third. That's got to be them.
Without a moment's hesitation, Kup dives forward and transforms, speeding southward at his best speed over the rough, arid lands, spewing rocks, stones, sand and dirt behind him.
Good thing he's built for off-roading.
OOC: This is not a post-in so much as a post-through. I won't be sticking around for a full round and am going right into the Wreckage vs. Wedge and Synapse thread.
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Post by Long Haul on Jul 23, 2007 20:30:38 GMT -5
Kup and, presumably, others rush out to the rescue, but Long Haul stays put. He has a patient, after all. If Jazz takes a sudden turn for the worse (not that he can get much worse), Long Haul is the only chance for stabilizing him until the more competent medic gets here.
But still, Long Haul is anxious for his other new friends as well. He shifts from one foot to the other, wishing he could be out there to help more. Just like with the Skybull, everyone else goes rushing off to deal with the emergency, and Long Haul is left behind to take care of practical business.
But then, it's not just his new friend's Long Haul is anxious for.
The transport looks out the ramp. Somewhere out there, perhaps very close by, is Hook. Wearing a purple, pointed face and, perhaps, firing on and being fired at by those where the sigil to match the one on Long Haul's chest.
The lime green mech reaches out and, if Jazz will let him, clasps the other robot by the hand in an action that's meant to be comfortable.
"Just gotta hold out a little bit longer," he whispers. But even Long Haul isn't sure whether he's trying to reassure Jazz, or himself.
OOC: Hi! Unlike Kup, I'll be sticking around in this thread!
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Jazz
Rookie
SugarSugarBoozeSugarSugarBoozeSugarSugar!
Posts: 175
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Post by Jazz on Jul 23, 2007 20:49:42 GMT -5
As rocket rides go, this one was pretty smooth.
Though Omega Supreme doesn't realize it, the expiry date for one of his passengers passed about twenty minutes ago, before they even got him into the rocket.
Death isn't happy right now. It's been cheated of precious time (Not to mention the inconvenience of the /searching/)-- but it can wait, however, since the danger isn't passed quite yet. Long Haul didn't erase the date. He only smudged it.
Jazz is still unnaturally quiet.
Fortunately for both himself and for Bumblebee, the short range radio was turned back on, and Jazz was able to hear the almost comforting 'voice' of his friend. It took him a minute to realize that the yellow 'Bot had asked a question. And another to shift a timestamp to him that is .... probably within 24 hours of Bumblebee's own. "Prime... delayed." Jazz said shortly."Had to... hold, until he got there. Distracting Megatron... so Ironhide and Ratchet could protect Sam." That took a lot more effort than expected, and Jazz fell silent again. "Fast ... for his size." came the faint murmur. "Didn't... know."
Of course, for the rest of the trip, he didn't say a word.
Now that they're within range of other Autobots, there are more voices to be heard, which keeps Jazz from drifting again.
There's something curiously grounding about tactile contact. Jazz can still feel the oddly shaped hand clasping his. More centering. More solidly where he is.
He's made it this far. Long Haul isn't going to just let him go easily.
Jazz gives the 'doc' a faint smile, and an even fainter nod.
Either way, it's going to be just a little bit longer.
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Post by Bumblebee on Jul 23, 2007 21:19:04 GMT -5
After struggling to start his engine, a beaten up 1974 Chevy Camaro roars out from the gigantic shuttle Omega and into the fray. Music playing loud from his speakers as he helps get a friend the medical attention he needs.
//He's the one they call Dr. Feelgood, He's the one that makes ya feel all right!//*
Red with a scope on his shoulder, red with a scope on his shoulder.. ah-HAH! Bumblebee roars off, kicking up dirt, towards Perceptor. He hopes.
OOC: Another pose-through!
*Dr Feelgood - Motley Crue
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