Jazz
Rookie
SugarSugarBoozeSugarSugarBoozeSugarSugar!
Posts: 175
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Post by Jazz on Jul 26, 2007 19:04:57 GMT -5
Jazz would be delighted to help. He usually objects to someone else sacrificing themselves when there should be a way around it.
Some other way.
But of course, even if he were awake, Jazz wouldn't be able to do much good. He couldn't even fire his weapon in this state.
A flicker. A snap of energy within the systems that Perceptor is working on.
It's almost as though Jazz is aware on some level, of Bumblebee's request for help, and is fighting to wake up and get there to bail his buddy out, just like he has a hundred times before. (Probably not nearly as many as Bumblebee has had to bail motormouth out of trouble, but hey.)
Strength. There is a faded strength, and Perceptor is managing to do enough good to keep that spark living. Another fizzle, and an already damaged capacitor cracks.
Hope that wasn't important.
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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 Jul 26, 2007 20:47:34 GMT -5
There's a lavendar obstacle in Dead End's path, acting decidedly odd. Dead End swerves sharply, managing to only sideswipe the other robot. He skids to a halt, rocking on all tires.
"Who in the nine circles of Dante's Inferno1 are you and why did you fling yourself into my path? Are you suicidal or just stupid?" The Stunticon's words are clipped with annoyance. "If you're trying to get away from the Autobots, just head north, you'll find allies, watch out for the giant Autobot with the poor temper. If you're just lost, I'm not a tour guide."
1 Dead End is literary.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jul 27, 2007 7:13:11 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron would have liked to have stayed with Long Haul, Perceptor, and Jazz, but he's been tasked with defending the little convoy, and his best weapon isn't this concussion blaster that Perceptor so kindly lent him. His best weapons are his poisoned honey words, delivered by his silvered tongue. He has to get in close for effective delivery.
The impact jars and rattles him, and there are some superficial dents on his lavender armour. However, Xaaron's running on the knowledge that he has to get up, and he does. He's a bit shaky as he stands, but he's standing for now. He is, however, pointedly keeping weight off his left leg, and something seems twisted at the hip.
He doesn't need to fake dull incomprehension at Dead End's reference. Xaaron looks suitably chastised and cringes, as if he expects a beating.
Oh, the warrior had questions for him, didn't he? Xaaron is so very tempted to say 'Trannis' for his name, but he knows better. He pipes up, "Oh sir, I'm Treaddraft. The Autobots and Long Haul, he's wuh-one of them, they captured me. I thought Long Haul was a Decepticon, sir, I did, I didn't mean to get caught, but he's not. Never was. Says he's worked Autobot construction his whole life, which I don't get, because I know he's part of Devastator, our super-weapon. They took my radio away, and oh…" 'Treaddraft' pauses in his frantic babbling and examines his left hip. "…I think my leg's broken, sir."
'Treaddraft' looks up at Dead End with something like abject horror in his optics, but there's something deeper there he cannot disguise, and he doesn't bother trying. There's something grand and terrible about Xaaron, about his casual cruelty and ruthlessness, and it never goes away. It can only work to his advantage here. No Decepticon is quite as pathetic as he's letting on. 'Treaddraft' the drafted neutralist secretary, he decides, is blackmailing his boss. It's how 'Treaddraft' has survived.
But right now, all 'Treaddraft' is doing is falling over face-first at Dead End's hood, his 'good' leg caving away. Clingy, isn't he?
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Post by Perceptor on Jul 27, 2007 11:42:34 GMT -5
"Oh no, you don't," Perceptor mutters, distracted by his work enough to slip into old habits of speaking to that which he is working on. That the offending capacitor cannot answer back at the moment any more than the patient can is immaterial to him.
Separated from all control systems and power, Jazz's legs are deactivated. They are also currently the best source of compatible parts to support Jazz's functions.
"You... are not... allowed... to die... today," he mutters, pausing in the actual repairs long enough to ruthlessly plunder Jazz's legs for the parts needed to support his upper half. Once Slingshot and Skyblast arrive, he can worry about replacing the parts he's "borrowed."
Does it count as borrowing if one is just shuffling them from location to location on the same mechanism?
"Long Haul... Do you have sufficient rear sensors to alert me if Dead End closes again?" he asks, pitching his voice louder for the Constructibot as he works on splicing in the plundered components. "I still retain my integrated cannon, to attempt to dissuade further pursuit if necessary."
He can't spare time, attention, or energy from his work on Jazz just yet for more than a shot or two, however the black rock and sandy soil of the butte studded basin should liquefy into a suitable enough glass to discomfort even a Stunticon's tires, with the proper application of focused light. In theory. Hopefully, Xaaron and the others will preclude that necessity; he'd rather maintain his focus on Jazz.
"Hmmm..." One more system isolated. Perceptor counts his victories by individual wires and systems.
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Synapse
Minor
Do not touch...please
Posts: 380
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Post by Synapse on Jul 27, 2007 11:59:35 GMT -5
Synapse attempts to make his way faster towards the group, buffeted even more by the wind caught in the pocket that is his cockpit. Nuts and bolts! He quickly makes a transmission over broadband before forging on forward. He can see the others better now: Perceptor bent over a body in the bed of Long Haul's carrier. The vehicle tailing them seems to have been stopped by the lavender escapee.
// I'm going to be drawing over next to you. // announces Synapse as he swoops down, aiming to sidle in on the Constructibot's left. If there's any trouble with the dark vehicle, he always can immobilize...gun? Something sputters in his boosters as he realizes that Wedge still has his blaster.
To the Pits with it all! Yes, all this chaos and fighting is wearing Synapse thin, not that he had much to begin with.
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Post by Long Haul on Jul 27, 2007 12:49:06 GMT -5
"Erm... my rear sensors ain't great, but I should at least be able to give you a heads up, Perceptor," Long Haul reports as he draws up besides the butte and begins... trying to roll around the base to the other side. He doesn't really know what to do now that he's here. Drive in circles around it?
Then Synapse arrives! "Synapse! Great! If the guy starts getting to us, couldja alert Perceptor and me? Although... although... try and keep an eye on the Em'rit, will you? Don't want him gettin' hurt because he tried to help us."
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Jazz
Rookie
SugarSugarBoozeSugarSugarBoozeSugarSugar!
Posts: 175
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Post by Jazz on Jul 27, 2007 15:44:42 GMT -5
Jazz is not allowed to die.
He's not trying to. It was just sort of happening, in the same way that he didn't mean to get caught in Megatron's talons. It just sort of.... happened.
Like landing here, instead of being embedded in a street somewhere on earth.
One more system isolated.
One more component 'borrowed' that ... almost fits. Some of the components from the legs don't quite fit precisely in the torso-- but with a little work, they'll do for now. Probably be as uncomfortable as all get out, but at least it means that one more system isn't going to crash and burn.
In fact, it looks as though Perceptor's labor is starting to pay off. Despite that last bump, the most recently tacked together components are staying together. And the forcefield is visibly stronger.
Jazz might not die today after all. Death won't be happy-- looks like he'll be cheated once again-- but others will be.
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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 Jul 27, 2007 19:25:47 GMT -5
Dead End hurriedly backs up, out from under "Treaddraft".
"Do you mind? No grubby fingers on the polish!" The Stunticon sounds decidedly testy. "The dust here is bad enough. And stop cringing! Starfighter does enough of that as it is! Speaking of whom--"
Dead End sends a quick transmission on the Decepticon channel: // // Starfighter, if you're not terribly busy, there's an escaped prisoner who may need rescuing, and I"m rather busy at the moment. //
"You just hold on a minute and I'll be right back--just need to do a bit of recon--unless someone shoots me and I explode with a Stunticon-shattering KABOOM, in which case I won't be right back. You and Starfighter should get along great--he's just like you," Dead End says drily.
He backs away from the lavendar robot, turns his wheels sharply, and darts off across the desert sand. "Toodles!"
//Long Haul, you mean? Where do you need me, sir?//
// South-southeast of Omega Supreme. Look for the lavender mech--he claims to be a 'Con named 'Treaddraft'. Not a primary combatant type. //
Dead End has revised his hostage-taking plan down to "Get a quick look at Long Haul and try to talk to him briefly"--the escapee has complicated things. He can't protect him while engaging in daring, near-suicidal challenges of the enemy at arm's length.
OOC: yes, that's the same one as was already posted on the Decepticon Broadband.
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Post by Starfighter on Jul 27, 2007 20:06:42 GMT -5
Starfighter comes soaring across the butte, actually missing them and having to turn around and come back again. He sees Dead End driving away from something small and light purplish and heads for the little spot of pastel color. Rather hard to miss, even with all the smoke and dust being blown up in the midst of battle.
The guy looks like a bit of a useless nutter from up here, to be honest.
//Yessir. I'm with him right now. Where do you want me to take him?//
Starfighter transforms and lands in front of 'Treaddrift'. "Ah..." Right, words. He stands up slightly straighter, pride of the army. "My name is Starfighter. I'm here to escort you back to the Decepticons."
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Post by Slingshot on Jul 27, 2007 20:24:30 GMT -5
In the far distance, coming down from the north-east, two specks appear in the sky. Gradually, they grow larger and larger until they can be seen clearly with the naked optic.
One is a grey alien jet that resembles Skyfire. Clutched in his claws is a pair of familiar legs. Behind him, flies a familiar, brightly-colored Harrier, also carrying part of Optimus Prime.
Unfortunately for people, Slingshot can see the battlefield as well as they can see him. His voice is all outrage and aggression. //That's a Stunticon[/i]!//
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Nimbus Tsura
Major
Secretary to Mr. Breakaway
Sky-Painter Extraordinaire
Posts: 735
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Post by Nimbus Tsura on Jul 27, 2007 20:53:10 GMT -5
One may wish to imagine a trumpet fanfare playing at the cavalry flies in.
Skyblast almost hangs in the air, stunned, for a moment when he espies Omega Supreme. If he took several Megatrons – a bad enough idea as it is - and stacked them no top of each other, it'd sort of approach how menacing that lumbering brute looks. He blathers incoherently, //Hu... hu... big! Big big big! What is that thing? Slingshot, you should have warned me!// Then he notices the Autobot symbol on Omega Supreme and exclaims, //That's an Autobot? Oh wow. Wow. You guys build them big.//
The Valkyrie straightens out his flight and zooms along towards the drop-off site. He skims low, nearly touching the sand with his talons and pulls up alongside Long Haul. Of course, he's going much faster than Long Haul, so this is a 'hi then bye' run. Skyblast drops the legs off next to Long Haul. So there's a blocky red guy working on Jazz – poor Jazz! – in a green truck. Skyblast loops back and considers the field.
He comments, //Stunticon, huh? Looks kind of like Barricade. I don't see any gold guys, just a lavender robot and a blue jet.//
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Jul 27, 2007 21:47:21 GMT -5
Treaddraft ends up with a face full of black sand when Dead End pulls out from under him. He sputters and flails, acting much less coordinated than he actually is. He pulls himself into a sitting position, one leg splayed out seemingly numbly, and watches Dead End go with a look of dismay on his face. He waves his free hand and frets, "Do be careful about that turncoat Constructicon, sir!"
He puts on a spooked expression when Starfighter arrives, even though Treaddraft understood exactly what Dead End meant by 'just like you'. He can tell a secretary from a real Seeker, but it's better to not let on and to flatter Starfighter's ego a bit. Treaddraft wobbles where he sits and salutes Starfighter. He stutters, "I'm Tre-treaddraft, sir."
It's not hard for him to fake terror at the sight of the Autobot jets flying above. Jets are usually an unpleasant sight for an Autobot, even if he's jaded enough that they don't scare him. Slingshot, Xaaron knows from personnel files. The Skyblast fellow looks like someone killed Jetfire by tossing him a dryer and then reanimated the shrunken corpse. It's a bit disturbing. Treaddraft purses his stitched lips and protests, "But we're supposed to be the ones who do that!" He shakes a fist weakly.
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Post by Perceptor on Jul 27, 2007 22:14:21 GMT -5
Perceptor is too wary to allow himself much satisfaction just yet, and only enough hope at the pace he's managed to set in keeping abreast of Jazz's systems failures to keep him from sinking into despair. Some fatal flaw may yet rear it's ugly countenance, thwarting his work. Dead End may yet cut loose with that rather impressive weapon of his and damage them all. Whatever/whoever it had been that had managed to injure Omega Supreme may turn that weapon upon them. The rest of the Autobots may be struck down and killed in their own battles.
There are simply too many ways that this could all fall apart yet. Perceptor maintains hope because he is an Autobot, and it's so deeply written into his coding that he could even hope for truth and integrity from Megatron of all mechs, while being held captive in their undersea base. He hopes because he doesn't know how not to.
Jazz is still fighting; there's days of work ahead of him to get Jazz functional again, and yet, the oddly shaped mech refuses to give up. Perceptor can see it in the pulse of that spark.
He could really use some energy and at the very least, whatever capacitors he can scavenge from... from the terrible burden Slingshot and Skyblast are even now brining in.
Another system isolated. Their victories are reckoned in the smallest of battles here. He will. Not. Fail. This. Mech.
Energy Reserves: 46%
No, energy would not be eyed askance for the wounded mech right now.
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Synapse
Minor
Do not touch...please
Posts: 380
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Post by Synapse on Jul 27, 2007 23:06:13 GMT -5
Synapse makes a semblance at a nod to Long Haul's order. Wait...keep an eye on Emirate Xaaron? But...that purple mech is Emirate Xaaron?! He turns around to get a better look. Alright, Emirate Xaaron it is then.
"Looks like we have more people coming in. I don't recognize any of them. They're mostly fliers," says Synapse. He neatly jumps in the air as a grey flier rushes in and drops something large on the ground. The dust clears and Synapse makes a face at the sight of a pair of legs. A pair of legs that he's only able to catch glimpses of on holos and only seen in person on rare occasion. Of course, those legs had been attached to a body at the time...
He shakes his head, emptying odd thoughts until he sees the other flier coming in with that missing torso. Okay Synapse, focus on keeping Xaaron safe. Transforming, Synapse makes use of his limited flight to land as unobtrusively as possible in Long Haul's truck bed. Perceptor's much to busy in this work to bother with anything trivial. A shudder passes through Synapse as he spots another halved bot. Is this who the spare parts are for? Best of luck for this bot and Perceptor then. Synapse bends over and retrieves the unattended rocket launcher.
Okay, Emirate watching time. After hopping off the truck bed, he primes the launcher and makes ready to aim and shoot at the new blue seeker. Thankfully, this is the one thing in combat that he's actually good at.
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Post by Long Haul on Jul 27, 2007 23:21:04 GMT -5
As soon as the corpse-half drops down beside Long Haul, he hits his breaks. Momentum continues to pull him slightly forward, past the legs, but he hadn't been going that fast to begin with, and so he doesn't go very far.
"Thank Vigma!" Long Haul says, relief heavy in his voice. But... who's going to get those legs to Perceptor. D'oh! Long Haul backs up slightly, then turns and pulls closer to the feet, as close as he dare. Hnh. This was one massive robot at one time...
"Nothin' I can do about that... whatchacallit? Stunticon? Nothin' I can do about him now," he reports mournfully to Perceptor.
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