The Walking and the Wounded

[Riot]

“Yeah, that’s it, run before my awesomeness!” …and now there out of line of sight and firing range…”ahhh smoke and dust”.

As quick as he can, Riot runs after the retreating jets and around the corner they so recently used themselves only to find that the distance between is significantly increasing despite one jet pulling the other two on a sled, a sled of horrible screeching metal on metal ickiness.

He weighs up his options, all three of them for about two seconds, transforms into loco mode with a shifting of parts to make even Mr Bay cringe at the cost of special effects and gives chase down the corridor, metal wheels on metal floor doing somewhat better then metal sled.

[Skystrike/Skylar Stringers]

//You and Assault,// she repeats, a hint of amusement in her voice. Yes, she had heard, but not quite like that. Distracted with trying to drag wounded comrades off-ship though, she doesn’t have much time to add anything else. Berkut she may be but whatever alt-mode granted maneuverability she had right now was very much hampered.

And there, of course, was their pursuer. She could actually hear the train over the sound of her own thrusters. Not particularly interested in getting shot at, the jet turns sharply around another corner, grunting with the effort and-

Blastdoors.

Skystrike immediately transforms to reverse her thrusters, wings snapped flat against her back. The sled screeches by under her though, dragging them along for a few precious moments before the blue jet could slow them down. There might be some wall-banging

//Any chances of your lifters still working?// she asks unhappily, changing back into jet-mode and sending a missile down the hallway they’d come from in hopes of deterring the Autobot. Distraction sent, she tries to slip out of the dead end hallway. She’d blow a pathway through the walls and doors, but that’d likely result in the sled snagging or tipping over some jagged edge should they try to go through. That and she doesn’t have quite enough missiles at this point.

[Duskwing]

"OW! Slag, whuddya do dat for--oh." Duskwing's optics blink at the blast doors. "See, dat's what I was tellin' you. When youse in a hurry, one of dem things being dere all unexpected-like is bad."

"Well, one of 'em might be. Can't fly on it, though," Duskwing replies absently, lifting his one working gun-arm to point at the first bit of Autobot he can see. If big, hulking and train-like comes into view, he's getting a faceful of laser fire.

"I still got some cluster bombs left."

[Riot]

Trains don’t corner too well, without rails, they don’t corner at all. Riot has to transform in order to continue the chase…transform…there’s a small internal noise of something not working the way it should. Riot pauses just short or the corner knowing that he's gonna have to ram something in order to reset, he pauses long enough to watch as a missile cruises past that otherwise would have made a huge mess of his detailing. A slight shiver runs through his frame at how close that was.

He can either go forward and hit the wall of the intersection, but that was gonna put another missile likely in his side, or go all the way back to the far end. It wasn’t a hard choice, reverse it was.

Stupid stupid unreliable transformation gears…

[Skystrike/Skylar Stringers]

“Turn them on. Easier to move you around then.” Huh. No exploding spikey train robot. That was a tad disappointing. The missile seemed to have done what it needed to do though. Skystrike ‘glances’ back at Duskwing when he mentions his cluster bombs. “Use them if you have to. Conserve them otherwise.”

She then drags the sled back out of the dead end and jets off down the open hallway. He rear radar spots the their opponent... still in train mode? And backing down the way he’d came from? Very odd, but the blue jet doesn’t question their luck and speeds up, trying to put as much distance between them and the Autobot as possible.

[Duskwing]

Blank stare. "Huh? Oh, okay." Duskwing obligingly turns on his one lifter, though it's aimed more rearward than down. Skystrike didn't specify what to do with his lifters besides turn them on, and the reversing train thing has distracted Duskwing from anything like thought.

He tosses a shot from his still-raised arm-gun at Riot, more from habit than hope that it will hit. He is a Marvel G1 Seeker, which means he got to hurt and kill people more often than children's cartoon G1 Decepticons did, but he's also a Generic Background Seeker, which means he never got to hurt anyone unless their toyline had been cancelled their characterhad a bridge dropped on it by editorial fiat they were doomed to die ignominiously.

"I think we got a new one. I don't recognize dis guy."

[Riot]

Riot spots a doorway in his rear view mirror and tries to angle a bit hoping he can catch the edge. He does his best to ignore the random shots as one hits his cattle catcher burning away the layers of shiny shiny protective wax and scorching the faux brasswork underneath. This is much more annoying than being unable to transform.

With luck on his side he glances the doorway just enough to shake something into place and reset his transformation matrix. With a screeching halt, parts shift and within moments, he on his hands and feet and then just his feet as he builds steam and runs back up the hall way chasing after the villainous scumbots who spoiled his aesthetic perfection. Leaving a trail of white smoke in his wake, he roars to the fleeing cons hoping like heck that they continue to flee “I’m coming to get you, you ugly piles of fuel soaked scrap!” his deep voice thundering down the halls.

He didn’t really think they were that ugly, the one who was still functional looked kind of interesting, the royal blue with chrome was quite a good look on the jet really.

[Skystrike/Skylar Stringers]

When no change in weight occurred, Skystrike idly entertains the thought of slamming Duskwing through the nearest wall. But he was a comrade and he had Misfire on him as well and that would be an unreasonable expression of anger regardless, so instead she calmly adds, “point your lifters down, Duskwing.”

She hears the Autobot yelling behind them and stifles a sigh, focusing on just dragging her blasted teammates around another blasted turn, half expecting to encounter another set of blasted blast doors. What the seeker sees instead nearly makes her sag in relief.

An airlock! Now they just had to get through it without getting shot at by the Autobot. The slow button pushing method or missiles? Skystrike goes with the missiles. She’s not terribly sorry about destroying enemy property.

[Duskwing]

"Huh? Okay," he says again, obligingly dangling the one leg off the sled, pointed down.

Then Skystrike blows the airlock. The air rather naturally rushes out. Not a problem for robots, usually.

"..... ... ...... .. .. ..... .... ...." Duskwing says, then frowns.

// ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ ? // Whoops, his radio hasn't held up too well to him being slammed into doors; sounds like it finally gave up the ghost.

Duskwing scowls furiously, then points down the hall, jabbing angrily at the air with his arm-gun. He snaps off a shot at anything that peeks around the corner, but it's noticeably weak in power.

[Riot]

“Oh thank the fire” Riot mutters to him self as he sees the trio blasting off again out the airlock, he can finally stop acting like a badaft and simply admire the efficient brutality with which the retreating leaves the Event Horizon.

//Umm, hole breach at <<that airlock>>//

OOC: go for wrap?

[Skystrike/Skylar Stringers]

The pressure change and the sudden decrease in weight made everything so much easier. She did have to compensate slightly for both, but nothing beyond her ability to do so. They sailed smoothly out into space, all sound suddenly dying off in the vacuum. It was going to be a bit of a trip after this, and she’d have to keep an eye out for any unfriendly spacers, but they were home-free otherwise.

And oh, look, Duskwing’s radio just died. What a tragedy.

OOC: Wrap is okay!

[Duskwing]

Duskwing shrugs and relaxes; smooth sailing from here on out. Maybe.

It's a wrap!