=================================
Decepticon =================================
Message:
2/5 Posted Author
Report:
Cyclonus, Cybertron Sun Apr
10 Cyclonus
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lord
Galvatron, I have seen to matters on Cybertron as you requested. All is
prepared. Be advised that I have returned to Earth to resume my duties and I
seek an audience with you at your earliest convenience.
All
field commanders and patrol captains, take a moment to include me on any future
communications regarding the status of our efforts at Carbombya. I wish to be
fully up to speed within the next 10 megacycles. Specifially, I want to know
about any Autobot movements along our borders.
-Cyclonus
out.
==============================================================================
Nile
River
This is a lush, green fertile area along
the riverbank of the Nile, one of the largest rivers on Earth. The air is
stifling hot, humid, and buzzing with all kinds of insects. Murky green, the
river's water is nearly opaque with the rich silt on which the agriculture of
the region depends, and it is impossible to tell what lies beneath the surface.
The broad expanse of the river is calm here, flowing more quickly to the south
where the massive Aswan Dam's generators are churned by the river's motion.
Locals still use the river as a means of transportation, many poling their
boats northward towards Cairo.
Contents:
F-35
<Catechism>
Grimlock
Obvious
exits:
North <N> leads to Cairo.
South <S> leads to Aswan Dam.
East <E> leads to Carbombya.
Fly
<Up>
Cyclonus
soars down into view from the skies above.
Cyclonus
has arrived.
F-35
<Catechism> is out patrolling the lands near Carbombya with her fellow
Seeker and usual wingmate Fleet. She's actually flying low today! Looks like
she remembered what Fleet said about radars; the higher up you are, they better
they pick you up. Or something like that. She's pretty obvious to someone on
the ground watching the sky, though, as this greyish F-35 is a big chunk of
metal up against the sky.
We are,
here, very close to the Decepticon's home. Well, at least, close to the really
large mobile home known Trypticon. And here we have Fleet, the pastel pyramid
jet, flying low alongside his usual wingmate, Catechism. Have to keep the
borders safe and all that niceness... plus, with the raids back on, it's always
a good idea to keep an eye out for potential targets.
Along the
river Nile, there's the usual expectation of activity and the like. Wildlife
come to drink from the water, civilization follows along it at certain lengths,
but there are still long, uninhabited stretches of open savannah and
wilderness. And it's one such stretch that one might catch the glint of grey
and gold metal.
Here Grimlock stands, the massive Dinobot
Commander out on his own sort of patrol, though he finds such drudgework
endlessly boring in the face of trying to find his next chance to take the
fight to his enemy. A bored dinobot is a dangerous dinobot, though sometimes
they can find things to amuse themselves.
Like taunting Hippos.
Sure enough, Grimlock is standing, holding an
entire tree, one of the wide branched african savannah types, in one hand. He
is currently staring down a large Hippopotamus along the shore of the nile,
which, while being in the realm of four thousand pounds or so, is quite simply
dwarfed by the Dinobot Commander, who holds the tree in such a way that he
keeps dangling the loose, leafy strands -just- where the Hippo can't
reach...and is apparently taking amusement in the creature's futile efforts to
lunge up on it's squat legs and try to grab a mouthful.
This passtime continues for a few moments,
until the sound of jet engines reaches Grimlock's audials, prompting him to
turn and glance skywards, optic visor reflecting the sunlight as it dims to
compensate for the glare. "Hrnn..."
The
roar of Cyclonus's engine's can be heard long before visual confirmation of his
proximity to the others can be made. He circles high overhead, presumably
scanning the area below to identify those present. He intones to himself,
"It seems not much has changed in my absence: Border patrols and the
potential for conflict." The internal dialogue stops and radios come to
life.
Transmission
from Cyclonus: This is Cyclonus. Report.
Cyclonus
transmits a message via radio.
Exo-Suit
<Glaive II> soars down into view from the skies above.
Exo-Suit
<Glaive II> has arrived.
F-35
<Catechism> has to watch out for a number of things on patrol. One
important thing is just staying in the air by avoiding undue turbulence.
Another is collision avoidance with other flying objects, such as pastel yellow
pyramids. Finally, there is, of course, watching the ground for objects of
note. Something a bit shiny near the river catches her interest. Now, is that
just the water glinting or is it something more? Then F-35's attention is
forcibly dragged away from that bit of shiny when she hears the roar of
engines. Ack, back to collision avoidance!
The
downside of being a jet (even a funky shaped one like Fleet), is that you can
often be heard by your foes much sooner than you can see, or hear, them, and
thus it is that the yellow Seeker is not yet in visual range of the... hippo
taunting Dinobot? ... when he receives a radio message from... the Empire's
second-in-command. Fortunately for him, his lack of face in this mode does well
to prevent any actual expression of surprise as he replies. Even as the radio
message is being made, he draws closer to the Dinobot's location.
Radio
to Cyclonus: 'Commander Cyclonus! Routine border patrol of our new holdings,
sir. Nothing out of the ordinary as of ye- wait a minute! Something's coming
into view now, sir, definitely Transformer...'.
Grimlock
continues to stare skywards for a few moments. Sure, when you see jets flying
around, they -might- be part of the local airforce. But when you see pyramid
jets...well, that's a whole nother story.
The Dinobot Commander's exercise in cruelty
to hippos ends abruptly. He tosses the tree over one shoulder, the splash of it
landing in the river only matched by the tidal wave kicked up as the eager
hippo charges in after it.
"...ha!" Grimlock states a moment
later, briefly considering taking to the air, but then deciding to just take
this one step at a time...literally, as he begins to plod up the side of the
riverbank into more open terrain. "One...two...three `con jets! And here
Grimlock think this going to be boring day afterall!"
Autobot
Hovercraft (Sentinel) enters from the city of Cairo to the north.
Autobot
Hovercraft (Sentinel) has arrived.
<Exo-Suit>
Michael Briar screams out with a loud holler of freedom and excitement as the
exo-suit dives out from behind a cloud bank. Well, falls is the better term for
it. It plummets like a rock towards the ground after suddenly cutting its
engines at its maximum altitude. With its wings tucked in behind him, he speeds
towards the ground. One minute to the ground. He gains more and more speed. Now
he's just matching most decepticon seekers in their alt modes. 30 seconds till
splatting into the ground. The wind is now deafening, but still the exo plunges
towards terra firma. Thankfully, he's not falling right on top of anyone. He's
still a bit away from the battle. Otherwise, people might wonder if he's going
to kamikaze his suit into a con. But no. The wings swing forward while trailing
white contrails of condensation which crack and spaltter off the engine
pods/wings. They roar to life suddenly under the suit slowing it down quickly
blowing grass, dirt, rocks, and small animals away from the spot the Glaive II
'would' have crashed. Briar touches down with just a foot before pushing forward
after stopping his rapid decent. With a small flick of his foot off the ground,
he's off again and heading for the fight. It looks as though death himself has
come watch this battle.
Rodimus
Prime has arrived.
Rodimus
Prime strides into the area.
Wreck-Gar
has arrived.
Cyclonus's
flight path changes suddenly as he decends from his suborbital position. His
unmistakable from is now streaking though the atmosphere, on a cource to
rendezvous with the target of his radio transmissions, "Acknowledged."
he responds to Fleet when in vocalizer range, "Bring your patrol to my
flank and we will investiage this matter fully. Wait.."
Cyclonus's
sensors come to life as the arrival of another aircraft, close to their
position, makes itself known. "Hold this position, we seem to have more
than one intruder into Decepticon airspace."
Just behind General Briar comes a
wicked-fast hovercraft, or maybe it's just that having an insane pilot makes it
appear faster. In any event, with Rodimus at the controls the hovercraft
doesn't slow down for an instant until it hits the coastline. Veering south
from Cairo, Rodimus tracks Grimlock's signal to the Nile River basin.
"ETA, 2 minutes. Wreck-Gar, give me a sensor reading, just how big /is/
this party we're heading to?"
Wreck-Gar
nods as he says, "EAR EAR SIR!... he grabs a book and says, 'Once upon a
time there were three mechs, a mommy mech, a daddy mech and a baby mech. They
all lived in a garage." he strokes the sensor and says, "Isn't this a
nice story." he grins as he looks back at his book then continues,
"then one day the mechs went to disney land and while they were gone a
evil Quintison arrives and steals all their lugnuts. When they returned they
founds they had no lugnuts.. The end." he then pats the sensors and says,
"I'm sorry, you can't have a happy ending every time... now now, don't
cry... they went to the shop to get more... shhh...."
"Yes,
sir," Fleet replies to Cyclonus orders. He had just been about to move
around to flank the space jet, when the new arrival resulted in a change of
plans. Hold position? Which is rather difficult, given his current mode. So
instead he moves into a holding pattern as his Commander tries to sort out all
the new arrivals. Well, this looks to be becoming rather dangerous rather
quickly...
F-35
<Catechism> hangs in the air to comply with that order to hold position,
as hovering's not a terribly big deal for her particular variant of jet. She
hesitates to speak, as she's about as low on the rank chart as one can be
without falling off the chart entirely. Besides, what with all the commotion,
that metallic glint she saw by the river is probably not heir biggest problem.
So the F-35 dips her nosecone down a bit and raises it back up, the jet
equivalent of a salute or bow.
Cyclonus's
scanners are bleeping all over with incoming vehicles. He transforms midair to
hold his position and watch as the landscape starts to unfold, "We have
incoming Autobots now. That signature is undeinable." Below him the
hovercraft is moving quickly toward Grimlock. "This is unacceptable."
He motions to Fleet and Catechism, "Weapons ready. Let's find out why the
Autobots are massing on our borders. Remain airborne and keep our flying
visitor occupied. I am going to start a... diolague...with our guests." He
looks over the incoming exo-suit, "Be ready on my command."
The
spacecraft shifts and compacts into the Decepticon Cyclonus.
With
his orders issued, Cyclonus plumments from the sky, landing hard on his feet
with an audible thud. He is still a good distance away from Grimlock and the
approaching Autobots, but he is close enough to be heard, "Explain your
presence, Autobot. I presume you have a purpose for intruding so close to
Decepticon headquarters. Let's have it."
"Grimlock
have purpose to be close to Decepticons?" The Dinobot Commander starts to
lumber further up the riverbank now, as Cyclonus lands and speaks his demands.
"Bah!" A moment later, a huge fist raises, and bashes against his own
chestplate, bringing an audible *BWONG* with it that follows. "Grimlock is
Dinobot! Not need reason! You bring fancy words and debates to here? This
place? Grimlock laugh at you!" A moment later, the Dinobot shifts his
right hand, and brings up his multipurpose blaster pistol, suddenly raising it
and pointing it at the Decepticon second-in-command.
"First, Grimlock make this all official
like though." He makes a sound as if clearing his throat. "Me
Grimlock say you, Decepticon, surrender now, else there be big smashfest,
damage to area, blah blah. Okay, now it official." A moment later, there
is a harsh bark as a thin streak of energy tears away from the weapon and
streaks straight at Cyclonus' form.
Grimlock
strikes Cyclonus with Disruptor.
<Exo-Suit>
Michael Briar comes speeding in from another direction. He plants his feet on
the ground and slowly comes to a stop before his wings swing down. With his
landing done, the Glaive II glances up towards Cyclonus and echos out,
"Ah...yeah, well, this is normal." He takes off from his spot near
Grimlock and flies backward at a steep angle, just to get his butt moving. The
shooting started way early this time. No banter, no witty retorts. Just wham,
boom, thank you Mr Robot.
Rodimus brings the hovercraft to a stop
just in time to see Grimlock's speech, followed by the ensuing shot. He shakes
his head as he stands from his seat and makes his way outside.
"Grimlock!" Not that the distraction will really hurt his ally at
all. "If I've told you once I've told you a million times! If you're
'negotiating' with Decepticon lackies you don't thump your chest. General Briar
taught me this a long time ago." He 'salutes' Cyclonus with a single
finger. "Hey Cyclonus. Right here, you silly rabbit."
Their
own forces are under fire, and Cyclonus has ordered Fleet to take care of the
opponent in the air. Oh, hey, that would be Briar! For the best, anyway, as
Scourge has been lecturing Fleet against taking on foes that are way out of his
league (like he EVER does it when he has a choice). The pyramid flies after the
general, unleashing his lasers as he flies /past/ the exo-suit and prepares to
turn... or perhaps transform.
Cyclonus
usually expects more diplomacy out of the Autobots and is caugh off guard by
Grimlock's effective negotiation technique. The blast pelts him squarely and he
drops to one knee while his systems reorient themselves, "I should have
anticipated such a tactic from a otton-headed ninny-muggins such as yourself,
Grimlock." He eyes Rodimus's greeting with equal suspicion, "Excellent.
It seems the whole of the Autobot chain of command has lost its mind."
Cyclonus takes another moment and scans the skies, ensuring that his troops are
still somewhat close by, "Very well Rodimus Prime. Let me put forward this
proposal then in our new shoot first negotiation style."
Cyclonus
holds out his arm and begins speaking into his radio, "Ratbat, prepare
Trypticon's missile batteries. Coordinates forthcoming."
Cyclonus
transmits a message via radio.
Cyclonus
receives a radio transmission.
F-35
<Catechism> is just going to assume that she was included in that order
to occupy their aerial 'friend'. She kicks out of hover and swoops after the
human-made craft, priming her taser bank. The F-35 takes a quick shot and
weaves away.
F-35
<Catechism> strikes Exo-Suit <Glaive II> with Taser.
Rodimus
Prime ponders this situation for a moment. "Grimlock. Rip out Cyclonus'
vocalizer." He smiles ever so faintly. "Can't give coordinates if you
can't speak afterall. Besides." He looks up into the clear skies.
"You fire Trypticon's missiles here, and the UN will give us authorization
to send Metroplex into Carbombya and deal with Trypticon personally. Thusfar,
you've enjoyed their sympathies. Please, please change their minds for me, and
I'll make sure your cityformer is out of commission for a long time
coming."
Grimlock
just stands there a few moments, apparently confused by several things. For
one, Cyclonus didn't shoot back...and this is something he hasn't expected.
More often than not the Decepticons are -more- than willing to return fire...or
shoot first, either of which suits Grimlock fine. Then of course there's
something else that confuses him.
"...ninny-muggins?" A pause then.
The thought of missiles or the like has of course gone right over his head, and
well...he probably really wouldn't care anyway. "You call Grimlock
Ninny-muggins!? Me Grimlock not know what that is, but me bet it not
good!"
A moment later, he twists in place, raising
his arms and literally flipping over as he transforms, coming up in his more
ferocious alternate form, teeth bared as he snarls. "If Grimlock knew what
Ninny-muggins is, Grimlock be very mad! Grimlock mad enough as is!" And
well, it dosen't help Rodimus just gave orders that seem to grind well with
him. The Dinobot Commander hasn't exactly got a reputation as the most obedient
type but...hey, since Rodimus -asked- so nicely. A moment later, he is
thundering forward, the sand crunching under his clawed feet as he leaves
Jurassic Park-esque footprints in his wake. "Rawr! You, decepticon...stop
fighting with words, and FIGHT!"
Grimlock
raises his arms and begins to fold up as he leans back, rising up into his
fearsome Dinobot mode.
<Exo-Suit>
Michael Briar gets buffed by laser blasts which chip off divots out of his
armor plating. Michael glances up towards Fleet and growls, then gets rocked
again by a blast of energy from Catechism. But combined, they just dented armor
and caused him to move slightly. The Glaive II pushes off from air and increases
his speed while he shouts out, "I need some god damn cover fire!" He
reaches behind him and swings around his rail rifle. Not worrying about aiming
just now, he fires off a quick burst of hypervelocity slugs towards the F-35,
since that one's following the first seeker that hit him. They sting and shoot
forward out of the barrel like a cloud of angry bees that generate cracking
sonic booms.
You
evade Exo-Suit <Glaive II>'s heavy rail gun attack.
Pyramid
Jet (Fleet), in the process of turning when the BEE like shots streak toward
him, spots the weapons fire and barrel rolls away from the sting. He transforms
as he spins away, giving up access to his better weapons in favor of a more
maneuverable, more survivable form, then brings his knees towards his chest and
aerial-tumbles into an upright position, straightening as he flings his arms
towards Briar and fires.
The
yellow Cybertronian jet unfolds, revealing the robotic form of the seeker
Fleet.
Exo-Suit
<Glaive II> evades your Shoulder-Mounted Laser Rifle <Pulse Mode>
attack.
Cybertronian
Jet <Jetfire> soars down into view from the skies above.
Cybertronian
Jet <Jetfire> has arrived.
F-35
<Catechism> stops in the air and transforms. She looks back and sees that
she and Fleet haven't put much a dent in the xeno's exo-suit. Well, that just
means it'll take a little longer, as all, as far as she's concerned. With a
seemingly incongruous grin, Catechism aims an arm gun at the exo-suit and
fires.
F-35,
Marine Corps variant, transforms into robot form. Catechism's feet unfold, her
arms unfold out of her body, her nosecone rotates through her body and ends up
on her shoulders to expose her face, and her wings rotate into position.
Catechism
strikes Exo-Suit <Glaive II> with laser.
Rodimus
Prime transmits a message via radio.
<Exo-Suit>
Michael Briar receives a radio transmission from Rodimus Prime.
Cyclonus
leaps skyward at Rodimus tries to make a point. As much as Cyclonus would love
to lay waste to Grimlock, he realizes he is severely out gunned. "You may
have a point Rodimus, but how long will you hide behind the UN and make these
veiled threats knowing what you know about the Decepticons. I am happy to
exchange witty banter with you and your esteemed colleague all day, but as long
as we have the blessing of Earth's government, you are right, I won't
endangered the foothold we have on earth. But please, continue these aggressive
actions. Confuse the situation as much as you like. We can stir up any hornets
nest you like. In the end though, we both know that your efforts will
ultimately be futile and Galvatron will exert his will upon this planet and any
planet he chooses. And so long as you choose to cower behind feeble fleshlings
as your reason to not exterminate us, you will continue to lose the great
war."
Cyclonus
hovers a little higher, "Decepticons, cease fire. We've clearly mistaken
this human for an Autobot. Issue our sincerest apologies and prepare to fall
back to Trypticon."
Rodimus Prime just smirks at Cyclonus' little
speech. Sure, it's insulting, but there's hardly a point in continuing this for
now. He folds his arms across his chest and speaks. "Grimlock, let them
turn tail and run." He inclines his head and steps forward a bit, gazing
up at Cyclonus. "The only reason you leave this field of battle at all, is
because I've allowed it. Keep that in mind Cyclonus. Perhaps in the past, i've
erred on the side of caution, but the end of the Decepticons is coming. Very
soon. You go back and tell Galvatron that he needs to have you smooching his
skidplate on double shifts for the next few weeks, as that'll be the last
chance he has to be worshipped before we send you all to the scrap heap."
He draws his rifle and powers it up to maximum, aiming for Cyclonus' head.
"You have....10 seconds to make your exit, or I'll mail your broken frame
back to Galvatron in very small boxes."
Grimlock
continues to lumber up on Cyclonus, up to the point that the Decepticon takes
to the air, leaving the Dinobot standing there and looking a bit stupid in the
process. His teeth bare wide then as he tilts his head to look up, snarling a
moment later. "Bah! Coward Decepticon run away now!? Grimlock too much to
handle maybe, that what Grimlock think!" He flails his tiny, front arms
ineffectively at the flying Con a moment later.
Of course it dosen't occur to Grimlock that
-he- can fly too, he's just too caught up with the moment.
"BAH! You run away with tailpipe between
legs then! See if Grimlock care....HWARGH!" he finally exclaims, opening
his mouth wide and belching out a thin stream of fire up and after the
retreating Cyclonus.
Grimlock
misses Cyclonus with its Fire attack.
<Exo-Suit>
Michael Briar roars as he's pelted once again. This time however, stinging
blasts from Fleet slip by him without hitting. Thank whatever gods are watching
out for him. Still, the F-35 nails him again, and it's pissing him off. Smoke
trails out of several holes punched into the armor, then quickly stops as the
rushing air cools it down to a charred spot. Michael pushes his suit on despite
the damage and brings his targeting system on line and brings a red targeting
reticule around the F-35. Panels slide open on his chest showing rows of
mini-missiles, each tipped with a crystal of highly unstable energon.
Complements of DepthCharge. Several streak out towards the seeker, each
targeting a part of the robot to increase the spread of the damage. Run away?
After turning his suit into swiss cheese? Michael doesn't think so.
Exo-Suit
<Glaive II> strikes Catechism with energon tipped mini-missile volley.
Stop...
firing on... General Briar? But General Briar is a PEST! He's already invaded
Carbombya once! OH, all right, dammit! Orders are orders. The seeker comes to a
halt, hovering upright in the air for a moment and actually inclines his head
formally. "Forgive us, flesh creature. My companion and I mistook you for
a threat. We have seen the error of our ways, and must now depart." His
soft voice and expression hold nothing but sincerity, though the words
themselves may be questionable. With that he kicks his bootjets into higher
gear and begins increasing his altitude, following after the Unicronian.
Fleet
begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from
Cybertronian Jet <Jetfire>, Rodimus Prime, Exo-Suit <Glaive II>,
Cyclonus, Catechism, Grimlock.
Cyclonus
chuckles audibly in the direction of Grimlock and Rodimus, The wall of flames
spewed forth by Grimlock cause the temperature around him to get a little
higher, but no serious damage was done. "Of course Rodimus. Assume all the
pretenses you like. When you can't even keep your own troops in line, how can
you possibly expect to wipe out the Decepticon army?"
Shifting
into his spacecraft mode, Cyclonus addresses the other Decepticons, "We've
done enough here. Fall back to Trypticon. If the Autobots choose to follow us,
I am sure Ratbat will have no trouble taking them out. Coordinates are
unnecessary when targets are in plain sight."
Cyclonus
transforms into his imposing spacecraft mode.
Cyclonus
begins retreating, leaving itself vulnerable to parting shots from Cybertronian
Jet <Jetfire>.
Catechism
takes the missile hit to a wing, and it destroys the whole wing and a fair
amount of her hip and legs armour on that side. The Seeker stares dumbly for a
moment at the ex-suit and sputters, the orders ringing in her head. She has to
apologise to *that*? Catechism pushes away the pain and says, the words spoken
exactingly as if she's tearing each one out of her internal components,
"My apologies, fleshling." She doesn't say anything else, as she
can't trust herself to say anything nice right now.
Catechism
begins retreating, leaving itself vulnerable to parting shots from Cybertronian
Jet <Jetfire>, Rodimus Prime, Exo-Suit <Glaive II>, Cyclonus,
Fleet.
Grimlock
tilts his head down and raises up, unfolding and twisting into robot mode.
Rodimus steps over toward Grimlock and
pats him on....well, the side of his massive dino-sized neck. "Let em run.
You can smash them later, after I have briefed you on recent
developments." The Autobot Leader watches as Cyclonus flies away.
"Besides, he's not worth scrapping, at least not yet." He steps back
as Grimlock transforms. "Grimlock! Dammit how many times have I told you
not to do that while i'm standing here. How do I know you're not makin faces at
me under that thing."
Grimlock
stares in obvious frustration as Cyclonus backs off and continues to rise away,
eventually getting completely out of sight. Right after Rodimus pats him, he
transforms, coming up with his gun in his right hand. "BAH!" he roars
out a moment later, raising his weapon and firing away randomly...or not so
randomly, as it's Fleet who's retreating a bit slower than the others and draws
his ire even as the poor Seeker tries his best to get out of harm's way.
With his 'statement' having been said, he
turns then, glaring slightly down at Rodimus' form, as he straightens up.
"Hrnnn...Grimlock get all fired up for big fight too! Hrmph. Grimlock even
miss when Dev-stator show up not long ago..."
You
evade Grimlock's Laser attack.
<Exo-Suit>
Michael Briar growls and continues charging Catechism. "You think that's
going to help you! Get back here! I need to work off some aggression! You know
how long it'll be till I fix all this?!" Sadly, since the seekers are
leaving, he can't reach them and his weapons are still cycling. Granted he
could fire his rifle, but then that'd be a wild shot. Most likely doing more
harm than good. He pulls back and swings around towards Prime and Grimlock.
He's pissed. Maybe he'll go punch something in the training room when he gets
back. He can't be mad at these two. They had to deal with Cyclonus and how did
they know how good a shot the seekers suddenly became? Michael gracefully,
while still smoking from a few seeker made speed holes, lands near the pair of
bots. "Well, 'that' was fun." he says with sarcasm dripping off his
tongue like spittle.
Cyclonus
has disconnected.
Fleet
allows himself a slight grin as he ducks away from Grimlock's blast during the
retreat. He doesn't bother with any parting taunts, however. That's not his
style, and besides, by this point, he's too far away. The pastel yellow seeker
remains in robot mode for his flight back in order to provide escort for the
damaged conehead.
*
Spiny! *
Carbombya
The grassy hills and savannas in the
east, bordered by ancient volcanos and sprawling lava fields, are the only part
of Carbombya not made up of barren desert. Until recently, the country depended
on meager livestock herding and subsistence agriculture, but upon the discovery
of a huge reserve of very high-grade oil beneath the shifting desert sands,
things changed radically. The struggling democracy weathered multiple coup
attempts by greedy neighbors and other interested foreigners before finally
succumbing to the tender mercies of a home-grown dictator. There are no
refugees from war torn Ethiopia being taken in as slave labor, not here under
the enlightened rule of President-for-Life Abdul Fakkaddi!
Contents:
Trypticon
<T>
Carbombyan
Palace
Obvious
exits:
East <E> leads to Red Sea.
West <W> leads to Nile River.
Fly
<Up>
Catechism
soars down into view from the skies above.
Catechism
has arrived.
Fleet
lands and looks up after Catechism. Cyclonus, in his much faster mode, had
considerably out-distanced them during the flight. "We'd better get you to
medical, Catechism." He doesn't focus on the fact that he managed to get
out of there unharmed. Again. He just waits for his wingmate to land.
Catechism
lands with more of a clunk than usual. She doesn't wince, although it looks
like she should. For once, the Seeker does not look happy. She nods to Fleet,
shoulders hunched up. "Right."
*
Spinny! *
Trypticon
Medical Bay
Several operating tables are set in a row
here, and long benches line the walls. On these benches are assorted tools and
equipment used in repairing damaged Decepticons. The benches near the door are
for patients waiting their turn for treatment. Scattered throughout the room
are various repair droids, awaiting the arrival of more wounded to repair. The
room gives you the perception of being immaculately clean, with not a single
tool out of place. Your olfactory sensors pick up the faint odor of the
cleansing solutions used to keep the room clean and sanitary.
Contents:
Catechism
Bandit
Sign
Gumby
Medic
Obvious
exits:
East <E> leads to Trypticon Laboratory.
West <W> leads to Trypticon Main
Hallway.
Catechism
is missing a whole wing and good chunk of her hip and leg armour on that side.
Apparently missile strike or the like took it out. Oddly, she looks to be in a
rather foul mood and stalks into the repair bay with heavy footfalls.
Bandit
is sitting on a chair in the right corner of the medical bay. He has some
diagnostic monitors on him, tracking his system information. He looks up at
Catechism and Fleet and greets them both. "Good day comrades...." he
states and then asks "What happened to you Cat?"
Fleet's
mood is more neutral. But then, he's completely unhurt... just a little low on
fuel. He heads to the energon dispenser and takes a mug, using it to top
himself off as he gets out of the way of those who have real work in here.
Catechism
looks a little taken aback by the nickname. Perhaps that custom hails from a
different area of Cybertron than the one from which she comes. She explains
rather curtly, "I got shot." After a moment, she adds, "By one
of those stupid xenos." The conehead then seeks out the gumby medic, shows
her ID, and settles down on a table for repairs.
Catechism
asks Gumby Medic to fix it.
Gumby
Medic begins work on Catechism's minor injuries.
Bandit
shakes his head. "Xenos.....what did they hit you with?" he motions
to her rather nasty looking wounds. He turns to Fleet "It looks as if you
were able to get out unscathed ....." he sounds pleased that at least one
of them did.
Fleet
shrugs, finding himself an empty meditable to lean against as he takes sip from
his mug. "The xeno missed me," he answers absently. Truth be told,
he's generally a bit harder to hit than Catechism, but he's generally not given
to boasting. "It could have gone a lot worse. Grimlock and Prime were
there."
"No,
I don't want a spoiler!" Catechism hisses at the medic.
"It'd
give you a bit of an upsweep," he points out stubbornly.
"If
I was meant to have an upsweeps, I'd have been built a wingup. Shoo and take
your car parts with you!" she argues, finally getting the medic to scurry
back off to his duties. Catechism glances over at Bandit and answers,
"Some kind of mini-missiles. Had a funny tip on it."
Bandit
nods his head. "Interesting......I wish I would have known you were out on
a mission....I would have definitely joined up in spite of my internal damage...."
he motions to the equipment monitoring his recuperation. "Grimlock and
Prime......now that is quite a challenge in and of itself.
Fleet
chuckles softly. "It was just a patrol run, Bandit! We weren't planning to
run into half the Autobot heavy hitters! They just happened to show up on our
run!" He takes another long sip of his drink, then swirls the energon in
his mug a little.
Bandit
ahhhs. "Ahhh well....then it was pure luck.....or misfortune depending on
your perspective." he grins. "I have battled Grimlock many a
times...and it always has ended up rather painfully....." he rubs his
side.
Catechism
looks over her repairs, looking as if she expected the new wing to be striped
orange and aqua or something silly like that. She comments, her tone a bit
vague, "I think I've seen that exo-suit before... out an oil refinery with
Fulcrum? Or do the humans have many of those things"
Fleet
shrugs. "That was Briar. I'm sure of it. I've fought him several
times." He makes a face. "He's already invaded here... he was part of
the mission when they destroyed one of our refineries, you know, the one they
tried to frame Wildrider for? To apologize to him is... galling."
Bandit
agrees "Yes...there are quite a few of those around......nothing like good
cybertronian tech though....." he stretches his neck working out a kink.
He looks to one of his attendants "A little more grease there..." As
he turns back to the others. "The humans tend to be more of an annoyance
than they are worth...."
Catechism
nods enthusiastically, regaining a bit of her usual good mood, but not much.
"That's right, Fleet. That's what Fulcrum called him." She looks
blankly at Bandit and says derisively, "They're worth anything? I
apologised to that slagger, and he took off my wing! I don't see how they get
off being so sanctimonious."
"More
of an annoyance than they're worth?" Fleet asks a bit warily, pulling
himself onto the meditable so he can sit. "So, just what are they worth,
anyway?"
Bandit
chuckles "It is because they are flawed.....from inception to
termination....." he chuckles "So the more we help them with the
latter....the better..." he adds "As for worth......menial
labor....entertainment....target practice....you pick your poisons."
Fleet
looks blankly at Bandit for several moments. Wow, he sure is fond of those
dramatic pauses, isn't he? Were he more familiar with Terran forms of
entertainment, he might have compared Bandit's speech patterns with William
Shatner's. Finally he shrugs. "I'll go with the last on the list,
thanks."
"We
have drones for menial labour, drones for target practice, and if I want
entertainment, I'll catch a gladiatorial game on the viddy, drag out for a
round of storm tag, or well, beat up a drone," Catechism says flatly,
ticking these things off on her fingers.
Bandit
shrugs his shoulders. It is not like he is saying they are worth much of
anything. "It is like I said in the first place. They are more of an
annoyance." The seeker returns. "So did you make that one pay for his
insolance...?" he asks Catechism.
Fleet
groans softly at Bandit's question and shakes his head, taking another sip
before covering his face with his right hand. He doesn't say anything, however,
as the question was directed at Catechism.
Catechism
growls softly, clenching her fists. She glances up at the ceiling, as if angry
at it for cutting her off from the sky, her environ of choice. The conehead
says quietly, drawing on what little better judgment she has, "No. That
was not in the mission agenda. Occupy the aerial foe. Then we had to apologise
when it was realised that said aerial foe was a fleshling. Then we
departed."
Bandit
nods his head again. "I see.....well if that was your directives...then
you did as you were told." he states evenly. Can't really fault someone
for following their orders. "Though it must be a tough pill to
swallow.....am I to understand that he attacked you after your apology?"
he asks for clarification from either Fleet or Catechism.
Fleet
shakes his head. "More like after we were ordered to apologize. The only
one to attack after the apology itself was Grimlock, but that's to be
expected."
Catechism
nods, her current foul mood adding a little to her slight resemblance to Dirge.
She stands, as sitting around on that medtable for longer isn't going to do her
any good now that the repairs are complete. The conehead recites, "I was
hit before I apologised. I took no hits afterwards."
Bandit
ahs "Well.....yes Grimlock is quite dense about the mainframe." he
states. "Well I hope your repairs go through quickly. Next time you go
out....you can be sure that I will be willing to accompany you." he states
with a dark enthusiasm.
"Eh.
Sure," Fleet shrugs, and then chuckles softly. "Although I can't
promise all our patrols are going to be nearly so interesting." He
finishes the energon and sets the mug beside him. "Most aren't. This one
was something of an exception to the usual rule."
Catechism
chuckles dourly. "I'll keep that in mind if you're on duty next I'm I have
patrol, but well... what Fleet said." At least this patrol didn't involve
birds. Shudder. Saying sorry to a xeno may be bad, but birds are much, much
worse. Thank rivets for small mercies.
Fleet
pushes himself off the medical table, picks up his mug, and heads to the
dispensing station to clean it off. Then he looks back at the others.
"Well, I should probably go hit the training drone, or something like
that, since my patrol was cut short." With that he heads out.