+ictime

IHQ Time: Sat May 25 05:36:08 2024

NCC Central Hub

This is the very center of New Crystal City, and serves as the gateway to the other areas of the base. A feeling of claustrophobia exists here despite the fact that this part of the city is open to the air. Now in Battle Station Mode, the Central Hub has far less buildings than usual, as many have transformed themselves into huge laser defense cannons and missile turrets. There are very few positions one can take to hide from the weapons without being forced to take evasive action. The roadways have laser point-defense systems protecting them. The important buildings, including the medical ward and the command center now have a huge layer of thick metal protecting them, covering up the facilities and protecting them from harm.

Contents:

MiG-29 <Fulcrum>

Trypticon <T>

Decepticon Sensor #1792

The Powerbase

Obvious exits:

North <N> leads to Mount R'Lyeh.

Northeast <NE> leads to NCC Dungeon.

Northwest <NW> leads to NCC Medical Ward.

South <S> leads to NCC Coastline.

Southeast <SE> leads to NCC Residential Plaza.

Southwest <SW> leads to NCC Spaceport.

East <E> leads to NCC Arena.

West <W> leads to NCC Central Command.

Fly <Up>

Fulcrum waits paitently in the plaza, a light frown etched onto his faceplate as he unconciously taps his fingers against the hammer hanging at his waist. He's obviously waiting for someone.

Fleet walks quickly, a brisk "military march" that shows him to be one with a definite goal in mind. He looks around and spots the one he's looking for quickly enough. He approaches Fulcrum. "Sir? I was ordered to report?"

Fulcrum looks up at Fleet, optics glowing lighter as he focuses on the new arrival. "You are Fleet?" he intones, pulling a datapad from subspace and tapping a few keys, bringing up the Seeker's medical records. Ahh, the wonders of MSE. Satisfied that the Seeker is indeed who he says he is, Fulcrum nods. "Yes. We are to undertake a energy raid. You have little experiance with this planet. This will be corrected." His frown deepens. "I assume I was ordered to do this, rather than a Mil-Ops officer, due to the high likelyhood of horrible damage." There's no humor or irony in Fulcrum's low tones.

Fleet forces back a slight shudder, although he cannot keep his concern out of his voice entirely. "Erm... I suppose so, sir. And you're correct. This is my first time on the planet."

First Comcast, now Fleet.. why does Fulcrum get stuck with the tast of breifing new arrivals to Earth? Oh sure, with Comcast it was because he found his crashed ship.. Command must have thought he did such a good job there... bah! "You will note" Fulcrum drones, "That this planet's atmosphere contains large amounts of water vapor and oxygen. Corrosion levels are likely to be almost 10 times Cybertronian standard, so more frequent maintenance is required. Nevertheless, the planet is rich in natural resources, most of which can easily be converted into energon."

Fleet nods, listening intently. He had heard some of this, primarily through rumor, but for the most part he actively avoided having anything to do with the strange organic planet. Up until now, it had worked, too. Still, he was here now, so he might as well learn what he needed to in order to keep himself alive.

"I shall continue the rest of the breifing en-route" Fulcrum says, poiting skyward. "Your configuration is an unaltered pyramid-jet configuration. Note that your handling will be different due to differences in pressure and temperature, but you should adapt fairly quickly." With nothing more to add, Fulcrum transforms and heads skyward, confident that Fleet will be able to follow - since Fulcrum is the only sub-sonic MiG in existance.

Fulcrum crouches, then leaps up, his joints screeching as he transforms into a grey and green MiG-29.

Fleet nods. "Yes sir," he replies, and even allows himself a smile despite himself. It's been far too long since he's had a good chance to stretch his wings. He leaps into the air, kicking on his jets as he does so, and transforms.

Fleet transforms from robot to pyramid jet.

* Travel Spiny *

MiG-29 <Fulcrum> takes Fleet into the highest reaches of the atmosphere to give him a better view of the planet below. "Earth's fleshling inhabitants - humans - are generally weak, but can be irritating when encountered in large groups, or when utilizing technology retro-engeneered from Cybertronian advances." There's a hint of bitterness in Fulcrum's voice as he utters the last sentence. Damn Autobots, giving monkeys our technology! "The installation we are going to raid is a human energy plant on the Eastern coast of the continent known as America."

Pyramid Jet (Fleet)'s flying is a little uncertain at first, as he's still getting used to the atmosphere, but he seems to be adapting quickly. "Understood," is his only reply.

MiG-29 <Fulcrum> gives Fleet enough time to adjust and to get a good look of Earth before tilting his nosecone downwards, heading for the target.

* Travel Spiny *

North Central States

The North Central States encompass most of the Great Plains as well as the Midwest and Great Lakes regions. The Great Plains isn't just endless fields of grain in Nebraska and Iowa, it also includes the towering buttes of the Dakotas and the fertile river valleys that crisscross Missouri and Kansas as well. The Midwest is broad, clear horizons, a land of gently rolling landscape punctuated by rivers, woods, and trees. The Great Lakes states contain not only the huge metropolitan centers like Chicago, Cincinnati, and St. Louis but big swatches of forest and lakeshore to the north, with gorgeous scenic drives along the Lakes and the tall bluffs of the Ohio river valleys.

Contents:

MiG-29 <Fulcrum>

Des Moines, Iowa

Taco Farm!

The World's Largest Prarie Dog! 8000 POUNDS!!!!

Biggest Ball of Twine in Minnesota

Ohio

Statue of Vulcan

Monorail

Obvious exits:

North <N> leads to Western Provinces - Canada.

South <S> leads to South Central States.

Southeast <SE> leads to Southeastern States.

Southwest <SW> leads to Southwestern States.

East <E> leads to Middle Atlantic States.

West <W> leads to Northwestern States.

Fly <Up> Illinois <IL>

MiG-29 <Fulcrum> heads low across the patchwork landscape, trying to avoid radar detection as he zeros in on the target - the WKRP Damn just out of Cincinatti. The dam is staffed entirely by humans wearing bright yellow hard-hats and boots. Union regulations, you know. "The installation should be unguarded" Fulcrum radios. "But no-doubt Autobot or Human forces will be quick on the scene. While I hook the Energon Cubulator 3000 up to the dam, you keep watch for any... guests."

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) follows close behind Fulcrum, hugging the horizon. "Right." He paused for a moment. "This planet is incredibly flat! How do they stand it here?" he complained, a note of distaste in his voice.

"There are places where the landscape is more varied" Fulcrum replies. "Just as on Cybertron." Pulling up sharply over the WKRP dam, he transforms, startled workers pointing skywards while others run in terror. Touching down gracelessly with a huge BOOM, Fulcrum turns his Combat Scowl on the humans. "Flesh creatures!" he intones, "We have come for your energy, not to waste our time crushing you underfoot. Do not attempt to resist, or call for assistance. Any attempts will be met with... retribution." To emphasise his point, the dour blacksmith levels his arm-mounted heat-rays at the wall of the powerplant, melting a Decepticon-sized hole in it.

The MiG-29 twists around and folds in on itself with a grinding sound, transforming into the robotic form of Fulcrum.

Flee transforms himself and lands nearby, although he makes a point to find himself the highest point of the dam. He touches down a bit more lightly and immediately begins scanning the horizon for unwanted intruders (well, *other* unwanted intruders), not even deigning to take notice of the small mammals.

Fleet transforms from pyramid jet to robot.

Fulcrum nods at Fleet, then trudges into the powerplant, shooting a couple of lower-powered heat-rays randomly to clear out the remaining workers. "Move or perish" he states, before retreiving a strange device from subspace - the Energon Cubulator 3000. Attaching it to one of the huge turbines, the Cybertronian device hums, the outline of an Energon cube forming beside it and slowly being filled by coruscating pink energy.

Exo-Suit <Glaive II> arrives from the Middle Atlantic State region far to the east.

Exo-Suit <Glaive II> has arrived.

Fleet is standing on the highest point of the dam, constantly scanning the horizon for unwanted guests.

<Exo-Suit> Michael Briar waits aboard an albatross transport. It flies faster than his dizzying 145mph so he'll get here faster. The pilot flicks on a green light in the rear of the albatross transport and the huge cargo bay doors open up in the huge transport that's able to hold a whole gestalt team and then some. Micahel looks back and says, "Hold this position, I won't be gone long." And then he dives out. The wings on his suit open up and flare to life sending Micahel rocketing along towards the dam, which is now just a few miles away, more high than actual distance though. The large winged transport swings around slowly and keeps out of range of most weapons while the Glaive II gets closer and closer.

Fleet looks up and emits a staticy hiss. Damn! "We've got incoming, Fulcrum! Not sure what the Pit that thing is, though."

Fulcrum starts hooking more turbines up to the Cubulator, two complete cubes already sitting beside it. "No Autobot symbols visible?" he enquires, frowning as he glances out the hole in the wall, then back to his work. "It may be human. Attempt to stall it for as long as possible. And ensure it does not interrupt the cubing process. I shall join you shortly."

<Exo-Suit> Michael Briar rockets along and gets within visible range. The exo-suit indeed does not have any autobot emblems on it. Nor does it really want any. The suit echos out a metallic voice that sounds like general Briar's from its broadband radio. "Decepticons, this is General Briar of the EDC..." he pulls his rail cannon from his back magnetic lock and powers it up with a dull whine, "...you are ordered to put down your weapons and come along quietly. I won't ask again." Still, he's within weapons range, maybe a mile out, and closing fast.

Fleet nods, forcing his nervousness aside. Nervousness in combat could get you killed. Nor does he respond verbally to Briar's challenge, as unnecessary chatter in combat could also get you killed. Instead he leaps up, kicking on his jets as he does so, and transforms to the mode he's more comfortable in for combat and flying out to meet, and distract, the General.

Fulcrum grimmaces. Briar. And by Fleet's report, he's come alone. Hopefully. Trusting Fleet to keep the EDC officer's attention, Fulcrum finishes his work with the Cubulator, hooking the final turbine up to his device. No doubt half of Cincinatti is out of power at the moment. Time for looting. Not that Fulcrum cares about the actions of a few flesh creatures, only that the energon cubes continue to be produced at a steady rate. "The human is combat capable" he radios Fleet. "Be on your guard."

Fleet transforms from robot to pyramid jet.

<Exo-Suit> Michael Briar grins and calls out over it, "You're damn right I'm combat capable Fulcrum! To think, I saved your ass back at San Fransisco. Inferno wanted to melt you down into scrap, but did I let him? Oooooooh NOOoooooo! Now I wish I should have!" As if to exclamation the point, he fires off a burst from his rail cannon towards Fleet, who will be taking the brunt of this fight. The white and yellow rounds zing across the space between the rapidly climbing jet and Briar, hopefully, they'll do something nasty.

Exo-Suit <Glaive II> strikes you with heavy rail gun for 16 points of damage.

You are now at 32 endurance and 0 injury.

They do, indeed, do something very nasty as the yellow jet fails to avoid the rounds and they tear through the left and top wing of his pyramid form. Flee screams out in pain as he banks, too distracted to return fire this time as he instead just tries to recover his balance.

Fulcrum emerges from the building, gazing skyward. "Your inability to terminate a fallen enemy is not my concern" he intones, both vocally and over a broadband transmission, his frown deepening as a distorted echo of a human voice is remembered from somewhere deep in his processor. Shaking his head to clear it, Fulcrum fires his boot-jets and rises skyward in support of Fleet, aiming one heat-ray at Briar while he removes his hammer from the chain at his belt.

Fulcrum strikes Exo-Suit <Glaive II> with Heat Ray <Low>.

<Exo-Suit> Michael Briar lifts his arm blocking the heat ray, which only burns a nice hole in his forearm armor and nothing more. He says, "Common ya scrap pile..." he flies by Fleet, since he's not posing much of a threat right now, "...looks like the seeker corps are loosing their touch. Sending you boys out to gather energon, Galvatron must be desperate." With his arm extended, a compartment opens up and a silver cylinder slides into his clawed hand. It lights a brilliant beam of plasma energy contained in a collapsible magnetic matrix which Briar brings back, then swings forward as he reaches Fulcrum.

Exo-Suit <Glaive II> strikes Fulcrum with plasma saber slice.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) circles around to make a *proper* run on the general, attempting ot take advantage of his focus on Fulcrum. The exo-suited human's close proximity to the other robot forces Fleet to come in from the side as opposed to the back, as he'd prefer. He fires his rockets at his foe before pulling up, heading skywise for a moment before turning once more.

You strike Exo-Suit <Glaive II> with rocket.

Fulcrum brings up his hammer to block the plasma-beam, but far too slowly, Briar's energy blade cutting deep into his shoulder. And yet through the pain, Fulcrum almost grins. Almost. Foolish human, taking this to close combat and ignoring Fleet - both deadly mistakes. Firing his boot-jets again, Fulcrum keeps pace with the exo-suit, keeping it between him and Fleet. "Your resistance is pointless" he drones to Briar. "Prove your intelligence by retreating" As his Seeker comrade opens fire, Fulcrum swings back his hammer. Fleet's pitching him the exo - let's see if he can knock it out of the stadium.

Fulcrum misses Exo-Suit <Glaive II> with his Blacksmith's Hammer attack.

<Exo-Suit> Michael Briar gets nailed by the rocket causing him to drop in altitude. The armor is scorched, but he shock was enough to knock him away from Fulcrum's hammer. He looks up at the pair and says, "Not quite Fulcrum..." Shoulder plates open up showing twin racks of mini-missiles which several streak out with a hissing sound from each. Like snakes, they twist and turn towards Fleet. "Didn't you know, humans are great multi-taskers!" Briar spats back at Fulcrum.

Exo-Suit <Glaive II> strikes you with energon tipped mini-missile volley for 17 points of damage.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) twists and turns in flight in an attempt to dodge the volley, but is unable to escape them all. They rain upon the jet, doing further damage to his already torn wings and back end. He grunts and for a moment spins out of control before righting himself once more. "I'm... sorry, Fulcrum," he sends weakly over the airwaves. "I have to pull out... I've taken too much damage."

Fleet retreats from the area swiftly, outdistancing all pursuit and parting shots.

Fulcrum just.. STARES as Fleet runs away. "You.. COWARD!" he roars. And he ran off without taking any of the cubes! Suddenly dropping like a stone .o(One on one in arial combat are not good odds), Fulcrum ducks into the dam-buildings. He must get the cubulator and as many cubes as possible, or this raid will be a total failure. (no attack)

<Exo-Suit> Michael Briar frowns seeing Fulcrum and Fleet leaving the battlefield. He says to Fulcrum, "Hey, rule number one, never turn your back on a foe! Now I know why DepthCharge beat you." The Glaive II charges after Fulcrum and lands at the hole in the building, weapon raises, "Alright Fulcrum, you have no place to go, drop the energy and how about this, I let your hull go without putting in too many more speed holes. Deal?"

Fulcrum stands beside a reasonable pile of energon cubes, hastily disconnecting his device with one hand while trying to load cubes into an energy-net with the other. Looking around as Briar speaks, Fulcrum's optics flicker. "Should you open fire, the feedback from the exploding energon will no doubt destroy the turbines, causing sizable damge. You may also be caught in the explosion. Instead, I shall take this energy and leave. You shall not stop me" Big words, but Fulcrum's already trying to work out the fastest way outta here. So far he recons it's just blasting through another wall.

<Exo-Suit> Michael Briar frowns and says, "I don't suppose you know me very well then..." He opens his mini-missile compartment and fires a single mini-missile at the pile of cubes. If the humans cannot keep their energon, not having the cons take it is just as good. Plus, it makes a big boom, which Briar always enjoys. Yes, Briar 'is' nuts, but he's effective. The mini-missile streaks out with a hiss towards the energon cube, and at the speed it's going, it'll be hard to hit even if you were ready for it.

Exo-Suit <Glaive II> misses Fulcrum with its big badda boom from the energon cubes attack.

Fulcrum's optics widen as he sees Briar is NOT joking. "You fool!" he snarls, snatching up the Cubulator and one measly cube as he lurches skywards, awkwardly crashing through the roof of the plant as the stacked cubes explode, putting several of the turbines out of commission - no doubt to the grattitude of the looters in Cincinatti. Biting off a curse, Fulcrum transforms, his pathetic haul ending up in his cockpit. "So be it.. human" he growls, sending deadly beams of pure heat lancing through the hole in the roof as he takes off.

Fulcrum crouches, then leaps up, his joints screeching as he transforms into a grey and green MiG-29.

MiG-29 <Fulcrum> strikes Exo-Suit <Glaive II> with Heat Ray <High>.

<Exo-Suit> Michael Briar is missed by the heat ray, instead, the damage comes from the exploding turbines. He's thrown back through the hole he came in and lands with a bounce and skid before he comes to a stop. Michael is flat out on the ground while he watches the MiG take off into the sky. He coughs and says, "Yeah, another time." Briar is glad that the cons didn't get more than the single cube. At least this time it will be a cost to them. He gets up with a grunt and checks over his armor. Not badly beaten up, systems at eighty percent, but otherwise he's just fine. He clicks on his radio and says, "CFD hazmat, you can move in for damage containment." Red firetrucks being rolling for the plant that were well away from the battle but now head in to try to save the plant.

* Travel Spiny! *

NCC Central Hub

Contents:

MiG-29 <Fulcrum>

Trypticon <T>

Decepticon Sensor #1792

The Powerbase

Obvious exits:

North <N> leads to Mount R'Lyeh.

Northeast <NE> leads to NCC Dungeon.

Northwest <NW> leads to NCC Medical Ward.

South <S> leads to NCC Coastline.

Southeast <SE> leads to NCC Residential Plaza.

Southwest <SW> leads to NCC Spaceport.

East <E> leads to NCC Arena.

West <W> leads to NCC Central Command.

Fly <Up>

MiG-29 <Fulcrum> is a green speck in the sky, getting larger as the MiG approaches New Crystal City

Fleet is standing near a wall, supporting himself with the arm he uses to lean against it. He glances up to see Fulcrum's approach and averts his gaze, having at least the decency to be ashamed of his actions, beaten as he is in both body and spirit.

MiG-29 <Fulcrum> transforms while he's still in the air, hitting the ground in robot mode, the sound of his boots hitting metal echoing through the plaza. Straightening up from his landing, he turns his scowl on Fleet, optics burning with surpressed anger.

The MiG-29 twists around and folds in on itself with a grinding sound, transforming into the robotic form of Fulcrum.

Fleet removes his hand from the wall and stands up straight, turning slowly to face the other robot, although he still cannot meet his eye.

"So..." Fulcrum grinds, taking the Energon Cubulator from his cockpit and carefully placing it on the ground. "How much energy do you estimate we obtained in that raid"

"None that I am aware of," Fleet replies softly, struggling to force his voice into the audible range.

Fulcrum regards his comrade with a dark expression. "Incorrect" he states, taking one cube from his cockpit. "Now.. how much energy would you say we obtained from this raid" He holds up the cube in one hand, the other one clenched into a fist.

Fleet looks at the cube, because it allows him to keep from looking at Fulcrum. "It would appear that we've gain one cube, although I would guess that more likely, we've taken a net loss anyway."

"Correct" Fulcrum says, tossing the cube down at Fleet's feet. "We have, in fact, LOST energy, due to our failure to retrieve a sufficent number of energon cubes. And do you know /why/?"

Fleet continues to watch the energon cube that now rests by his feet, replying softly, "Because I withdrew prematurely." It's not even a question. He knows he screwed up.

"Wrong" Fulcrum states flatly, optics flaring white for a moment. "We did not succeed due to MY failure. I incorrectly assumed that you possessed at least an nanoclick of combat ability. I overestimated you. I thought that you were, in fact, a warrior."

Fleet visibly flinches at the statement. "I... I..." he stumbles over his words as they become tangled in his head, then just gives up. There's really nothing he can say.

Cyclonus emerges from the city that is Trypticon.

Cyclonus has arrived.

Fleet, badly damaged, is currently receiving a dressing down from Fulcrum. His stance is submissive, and he keeps his eyes down... perhaps at the energon cube that sits in front of his feet.

Fulcrum regards Fleet in silence for a lonnnnnnnng moment, the only sound a slight sparking from the deep cut in his shoulder. "In a completely selfish display, I shall refrain from making any report about this particular raid, in the hopes that /my/ failure will go unoticed." Fulcrum's emphasis on the word "my" speaking volumes. He nudges the cube with one foot, sending it skidding to a halt at Fleet's foot. "You are damaged. Recharge, then report to med-bay for repairs. One of the on-duty medics will see to your wounds." Without another word, Fulcrum spins around, turning his back on Fleet and trudging off.

...And obviously, not noticing Cyclonus.

Cyclonus stalks silently down Trypticon's main rampway into the central hub. What he hears or doesn't hear as part of the conversation that was taking place until just now is for him alone to know. He clears his vocalizer, much as a human would clear their throat in order to garner the attention of the others present. He turns first toward the seeker he doesn't recognize and scrutinzes for a moment before turning toward Fulcrum. "I trust you can explain this?"

Fleet's head remains down as Fulcrum begins to move away. He had started to reach for the cube before Cyclonus cleared his vocalizer. With that he looks up and his optics widen as he sees who it is that has arrived and he wonders how things could get worse.

Fulcrum erks. How long has Clyclonus been there? Biting the bullet, Fulcrum looks the fearsome commander in the optics, fighting the urge to tremble. "Of course, Commander," he drones. "Fleet is not used to conditions on Earth, and the empire requires energy. I undertook a small raid, both to review Fleet's systems in this planet's atmospheric conditions, and to obtain energon cubes. Due to a tactical miscalculation on my part, Fleet was injured. I had hoped that the incident was not serious enough to formally log." Of course, this is not the full story, but Fulcrum is being selective with the truth on Fleet's behalf.

Fleet gives Fulcrum a sidelong glance although he manages to cover his surprise. A rather clever lie-by-omission, although the yellow Seeker was already bracing himself should Cyclonus see through it.

The towering commander retains the same neutral expression he had when he arrived, and this is most likely a very good sign. When someone makes Cyclonus angry enough for it to be immediately noticable, then in most cases that person is going to be on the receiving end of something.......... unpleasant. "Apparently his optimization has not been completed correctly." He turns, gazing at the new seeker. "Name." He states flatly, almost certainly asking what it is, but doing so in a.... commanding demeanor.

Fleet snaps his head up and pulls himself into something a bit more like a military stance, spiting both injuries and terror. "Fleet, sir!" he responds, an attempt at a proper, firm response that still sounds a little more like a gasp.

Fulcrum steps back, letting Fleet deal with this, thankful for the moment that Cyclonus's attention is elsewhere.

Cyclonus nods slowly in reply to Fleet and then turns back to Fulcrum. "I want a report on this seeker's readiness on my desk by the start of delta shift. Make certain he is fully repaired and his combat abilities in Earth atmosphere are to be gauged accordingly. You know quite well that these reports are mandatory for /every/ Decepticon soldier. If they are not completed in the time I have alotted you I may be forced to initiate a formal inquiry into the matter and uncover /all/ the facts on what have transpired here. Is that understood Fulcrum?"

"Perfectly, Commander" Fulcrum replies. "The data gained on the the raid shall help with this" The blacksmith is not sure whether to be releived or not. He was going to investigate Fleet's combat abilities anyway... but now Cyclonus is watching him, he has to actually do a proper job of it. He shoots Fleet an unreadable look. "It shall be done."

Fleet remains still, although he is forced to supress another flinch. Something like this did not bode well for his first visit to Earth, and he was forced to conclude that his prior avoidance of the planet was justified.

Cyclonus inclines his head slowly toward Fulcrum. "Good." he replies before turning toward Fleet. "Report immediately for repair and retro-fit for an Earth standard atmosphere." Cyclonus turns to walk away, stopping only for a moment to speak over his shoulder, "...and remember this well. Failure is not acceptable. Wasting resources of any kind, including those needed to repair you after pointless endeavors will not be tolerated. Now, you are dismissed."

Fleet nods, and, after scooping up the discarded energon cube, jerks into motion before catching himself. He manages to affect a somewhat calmer walk, er, limp instead.

Fulcrum nods as well, taking the opportunity to trudge away.