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Imperial Landing Zone
Rather impressed at what Treads had just did, Drift spun around and caught the sword returned to him by the handle.
The Autobot charged at Treads, pulling out his other sword, and attempted to slash at Treads, attempting to quickly behead the Imperial with one hand and stab his chest with another. Combat senses kicked in. He was an Autobot. But still can't afford to be weak.
What Treads said was so unbelievably incredulous that Drift let out a groan.
"Artillery expert? You dolt- this is a sword!"
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Gears grunted as one of the gatling gun blasts caught him in the stomach. He aimed his EMP blast at Mindset again. "Sure, turn your back on the weak little Autobot!"
Arcee glared at Mindset, raised her laser blaster, and opened fire at the Imperial commanding officer. "Die." She hissed.
"Eh, oh- bloody flipping 'eck!" Gears as meteorites slammed onto the battlefield around them. "Hey! Oh! Even the damned weather is against us!"
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Pyro raked Buzzard's frame with blasts from his pulse cannon and missile launcher, and the Predator launched another IMBC, which Pyro promptly shot down. The explosion from the IMBC knocked both combatants backwards a little.
"Your tyranny won't- eh?" Pyro looked up, and narrowly dodged one of the meteors sent crashing down. "Sweet Optimus-"
Thankfully, Buzzard was too busy dodging the meteors as well to be much of a threat to Pyro.
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Construction Field Hospital
"Did he just say Sixshot and Cyclonus will not be happy if we don't please ill the Imperials? Kill kill kill!" Mixmaster dashed out of the safehouse, pulling out his weapon.
Hook groaned. "Long Haul!"
"On it!" Long Haul charged out, and tackled Mixmaster just as he pulled the trigger, the shot meant for Moonjet flying wide and hitting one of the genuine Imperial jets still in the area. Wrestling the protesting Mixmaster, Long Haul waved at Highbrow and the two Predators. "Sorry about that! Please, get inside while I subdue my overzealous comrade."
Darkjet landed, and Moonjet did so. The wounded Imperial collapsed onto the ground as he transformed, his wound bleeding again. Darkjet crouched next to Moonjet. "I am terribly sorry to impose on you, but he needs a medic."
"And this is a hospital- FOR PRIMUS' SAKE, Mixmaster, they're on our side!" Long Haul snarled, delivering a punch to Mixmaster's face that quieted him down. "Get him in, get him in. Ah, and the Thunderwing shell..."
[G1 RPG] Terminus: The Tempest (Protihex)
Imperiel Landing Zone
Mindset douged the blasts from the two, mildly denting him. "Die" he said as he loaded fire on them, adding a heatseeker to take out Gears.
He then transformed and drove off through the meteor shower, intending to find a ship to get to where the Steelhaven was, planning to take out General Prowl as he went along.
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Treds grinned as Drift charged at him, senseing a good fight ahead. "Well you know what they say, never take a knife to a gun fight!" he chulkeld as he opened fire on the Autobot.
Mindset douged the blasts from the two, mildly denting him. "Die" he said as he loaded fire on them, adding a heatseeker to take out Gears.
He then transformed and drove off through the meteor shower, intending to find a ship to get to where the Steelhaven was, planning to take out General Prowl as he went along.
________________________________
Treds grinned as Drift charged at him, senseing a good fight ahead. "Well you know what they say, never take a knife to a gun fight!" he chulkeld as he opened fire on the Autobot.
Constructicon Hospital
Scrapper listened to the others as they continued to discuss the forcefield, but didn't chip in again. He didn't need to, since they seemed to have all the bases covered and he wasn't one to talk just to hear his own voice.
He looked up at the door just in time to see Shuttle Gunner rush in, carrying a badly-damaged Sandstorm over his shoulder (not that he recognized either one of them).
"On the table," he told the unfamiliar flyer. "What happened to him?"
"Gestalt interlink shock, I think," Shuttle Gunner said. "Our combined mode broke apart after one of us was killed."
Scrapper eyed the duo closely, but still didn't recognize them other than their close resemblance to a pair of Combaticons. Shrugging, he said, "A hard reboot should do the trick, then. Give me a few minutes."
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Nightstick glared at the dimwitted, overeager Mixmaster as he almost slew one of the Imperial defectors.
"I can rust him into a solid block for you," he told Long Haul, "if that would make things easier."
_______________________________________
Battlefield
Spinister did as he was told, coming to a stop without question when Gigatron ordered it.
"Very well, my liege. But I have to ask...which heart? There are several loci of enemy forces that we could attend to."
_______________________________________
Starscream pondered Thrust's suggestion for a few moments.
"No, that would only turn them against us," he decided at last. "Meet up with them, and cooperate as best you can...but from the rear of their lines, obviously. Let them take point, but pretend like you're there to help."
Then he dropped in on Cyclonus's wing.
"Cyc, old pal! Need some help?"
Cyclonus groaned when he realized who his companion was. "No. Go away."
"Ha! Always such a kidder, Cyclonus."
"I'm really not."
_______________________________________
(OOC: The fact that we've got three Sandstorms in the fight is literally the only reason I'm using this one.)
"I'm a shame? This coming from Mr. Afraid of Water and Heights?" Sandstorm shrugged, turning away from Broadside. "But there'll be plenty of time to humiliate you later. By the sounds of it we've still got a lot of work to do."
Twin Twist cocked his head to one side, listening to hear which of the other Wreckers would report in. When he only heard from Overdrive, he frowned deeply.
"Hate Plague? Seriously, I get distracted for a few minutes and you guys make this much of a mess of things?"
_______________________________________
Hate Plague Danger zone
Dust Storm chuckled. "Junior? I can assure you, I'm quite a bit older than you."
He steered through the swarm of missiles with relative ease, but took a few laser hits that would have come too close to Acid Storm for comfort.
"But unlike you, my mind isn't addled by the passing of years. If it was...well, then I wouldn't have thought to bring backup, would I?"
As if summoned by his call, Bootleg and Thunderflare swooped down from behind Sandstorm, firing lasers and null rays respectively.
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Bluestreak edged backwards, away from Hyperdrive and the horde of infected on the other side of him.
"I don't like this one bit," he muttered. "Not one bit."
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Skydive made an irritated noise. "You know," he told the other Skydive, "I really don't have time for this. Gunbarrel, neutralize his missiles. The rest of you, bury him."
"With pleasure, boss." Gunbarrel swung around at the head of the squadron, his eponymous barrels shooting dozens of flares that confused the incoming missiles' targeting systems and sent them shooting off in dozens of different directions.
Meanwhile, Overcast, Runway, Skysickle, Stratosphere and Thunderstick let loose with their own guns. Bolts of lightning, hyper-velocity slugs, mono-molecular cutting rounds, ion blasts and sonic pulses were aimed at the Predator from five different directions, and were joined by blasts from Skydive's molecule-disrupting nega-gun.
_______________________________________
Snarl grunted as Jackpot shot him, but his Dinobot constitution meant that he barely noticed the pain even before the Hate Plague short-circuited his logic pathways.
"Right. Good idea." He drew his missile launcher. "But I've got a better gun."
He fired a round straight at the grappled Steelshot, hoping to blow him up in Jackpot's face.
_______________________________________
"You're nothing!" Ultra Magnus snapped at Sixshot. "I've owed you this for a long time, scum!"
He didn't even take a step back as the tank shells slammed into his stolen trailer armour, damaging the chest plate and midriff. In the back of his mind, a small part of him that was still rational reasoned that the trailer's pain interface wasn't connected to his neural net properly.
Good, he decided. That will make this easier.
Once Sixshot had stopped firing, Magnus smiled. "My turn," he said coldly.
Both of his shoulder mortars fired at once, and he raised and fired two laser rifles -- one his, the other Landquake's.
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Rage knocked Dead End's corpse away with a swing of his bracers, then frowned as Drag Strip charged at him.
"Why...oh, right. Hate Plague." He shook his head. Some people, it seemed, just didn't have enough experience with hate and anger. They couldn't control it, couldn't use it for their own purposes. But Rage...he had no choice. He lived with so much fury and loathing in his daily life that he needed to learn how to direct it lest it destroy him entirely. So this...this was nothing new to him.
So when he saw the Stunticon charging toward him, he didn't listen to the plague and throw himself at his foe with wild abandon. No, he unleashed his hate like a shaped charge, pointing it in the direction that best suited his purposes...in this case, by spraying the ground between them with acid so that the rising fumes would obscure Drag Strip's view of him.
_______________________________________
Imperial Landing Zone
Drill Bit nodded.
"Suddenly, Throttler, I think you're right."
He was about to address Buckethead's suggestion of calling someone bigger when the Imperials began wrangling their pets out of the transport. His jaw dropped.
"I'm pretty sure they'll notice without our help," he said, deadpan, as a pack of Demons strode down the ramp, slavering and looking around hungrily.
"Also, uh...duck!"
He dove under what scant cover as he could find, as the rocks began to hit the ground.
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Sideswipe shrugged. "Of course I'm OK, Windcharger. Takes a lot more than that to slow me down."
When he saw the pair of identical Imperial jets still flying in the air over their fallen pods, he scowled.
"Time to dust off my old jet judo skills," he told the others. "Try not to be too impressed, OK?"
With that, his jetpack flared to life and carried him on a line toward Griffe.
"Wanna dance, scum?" He grinned. "Keep in mind that 'no' isn't an available choice right now."
_______________________________________
Artfire looked up at Hyena, the space beam gun on his shoulder tracking along with his line of sight. Once he was sure he had a good fix on the Imperial, his cannon fired.
Ah, the rush of battle. All the better to wash away my worries...for a few moments, at least.
In theory the Targetmaster didn't like to fight...but sometimes he really, really needed to.
While he was charging into battle, he took his CO2 rifle in hand and used it to extinguish some of the fires that had broken out when the meteors had hit. There was, he decided, no need to make the battlefield more dangerous for his comrades than it already was.
Scrapper listened to the others as they continued to discuss the forcefield, but didn't chip in again. He didn't need to, since they seemed to have all the bases covered and he wasn't one to talk just to hear his own voice.
He looked up at the door just in time to see Shuttle Gunner rush in, carrying a badly-damaged Sandstorm over his shoulder (not that he recognized either one of them).
"On the table," he told the unfamiliar flyer. "What happened to him?"
"Gestalt interlink shock, I think," Shuttle Gunner said. "Our combined mode broke apart after one of us was killed."
Scrapper eyed the duo closely, but still didn't recognize them other than their close resemblance to a pair of Combaticons. Shrugging, he said, "A hard reboot should do the trick, then. Give me a few minutes."
_______________________________________
Nightstick glared at the dimwitted, overeager Mixmaster as he almost slew one of the Imperial defectors.
"I can rust him into a solid block for you," he told Long Haul, "if that would make things easier."
_______________________________________
Battlefield
Spinister did as he was told, coming to a stop without question when Gigatron ordered it.
"Very well, my liege. But I have to ask...which heart? There are several loci of enemy forces that we could attend to."
_______________________________________
Starscream pondered Thrust's suggestion for a few moments.
"No, that would only turn them against us," he decided at last. "Meet up with them, and cooperate as best you can...but from the rear of their lines, obviously. Let them take point, but pretend like you're there to help."
Then he dropped in on Cyclonus's wing.
"Cyc, old pal! Need some help?"
Cyclonus groaned when he realized who his companion was. "No. Go away."
"Ha! Always such a kidder, Cyclonus."
"I'm really not."
_______________________________________
(OOC: The fact that we've got three Sandstorms in the fight is literally the only reason I'm using this one.)
"I'm a shame? This coming from Mr. Afraid of Water and Heights?" Sandstorm shrugged, turning away from Broadside. "But there'll be plenty of time to humiliate you later. By the sounds of it we've still got a lot of work to do."
Twin Twist cocked his head to one side, listening to hear which of the other Wreckers would report in. When he only heard from Overdrive, he frowned deeply.
"Hate Plague? Seriously, I get distracted for a few minutes and you guys make this much of a mess of things?"
_______________________________________
Hate Plague Danger zone
Dust Storm chuckled. "Junior? I can assure you, I'm quite a bit older than you."
He steered through the swarm of missiles with relative ease, but took a few laser hits that would have come too close to Acid Storm for comfort.
"But unlike you, my mind isn't addled by the passing of years. If it was...well, then I wouldn't have thought to bring backup, would I?"
As if summoned by his call, Bootleg and Thunderflare swooped down from behind Sandstorm, firing lasers and null rays respectively.
_______________________________________
Bluestreak edged backwards, away from Hyperdrive and the horde of infected on the other side of him.
"I don't like this one bit," he muttered. "Not one bit."
_______________________________________
Skydive made an irritated noise. "You know," he told the other Skydive, "I really don't have time for this. Gunbarrel, neutralize his missiles. The rest of you, bury him."
"With pleasure, boss." Gunbarrel swung around at the head of the squadron, his eponymous barrels shooting dozens of flares that confused the incoming missiles' targeting systems and sent them shooting off in dozens of different directions.
Meanwhile, Overcast, Runway, Skysickle, Stratosphere and Thunderstick let loose with their own guns. Bolts of lightning, hyper-velocity slugs, mono-molecular cutting rounds, ion blasts and sonic pulses were aimed at the Predator from five different directions, and were joined by blasts from Skydive's molecule-disrupting nega-gun.
_______________________________________
Snarl grunted as Jackpot shot him, but his Dinobot constitution meant that he barely noticed the pain even before the Hate Plague short-circuited his logic pathways.
"Right. Good idea." He drew his missile launcher. "But I've got a better gun."
He fired a round straight at the grappled Steelshot, hoping to blow him up in Jackpot's face.
_______________________________________
"You're nothing!" Ultra Magnus snapped at Sixshot. "I've owed you this for a long time, scum!"
He didn't even take a step back as the tank shells slammed into his stolen trailer armour, damaging the chest plate and midriff. In the back of his mind, a small part of him that was still rational reasoned that the trailer's pain interface wasn't connected to his neural net properly.
Good, he decided. That will make this easier.
Once Sixshot had stopped firing, Magnus smiled. "My turn," he said coldly.
Both of his shoulder mortars fired at once, and he raised and fired two laser rifles -- one his, the other Landquake's.
_______________________________________
Rage knocked Dead End's corpse away with a swing of his bracers, then frowned as Drag Strip charged at him.
"Why...oh, right. Hate Plague." He shook his head. Some people, it seemed, just didn't have enough experience with hate and anger. They couldn't control it, couldn't use it for their own purposes. But Rage...he had no choice. He lived with so much fury and loathing in his daily life that he needed to learn how to direct it lest it destroy him entirely. So this...this was nothing new to him.
So when he saw the Stunticon charging toward him, he didn't listen to the plague and throw himself at his foe with wild abandon. No, he unleashed his hate like a shaped charge, pointing it in the direction that best suited his purposes...in this case, by spraying the ground between them with acid so that the rising fumes would obscure Drag Strip's view of him.
_______________________________________
Imperial Landing Zone
Drill Bit nodded.
"Suddenly, Throttler, I think you're right."
He was about to address Buckethead's suggestion of calling someone bigger when the Imperials began wrangling their pets out of the transport. His jaw dropped.
"I'm pretty sure they'll notice without our help," he said, deadpan, as a pack of Demons strode down the ramp, slavering and looking around hungrily.
"Also, uh...duck!"
He dove under what scant cover as he could find, as the rocks began to hit the ground.
_______________________________________
Sideswipe shrugged. "Of course I'm OK, Windcharger. Takes a lot more than that to slow me down."
When he saw the pair of identical Imperial jets still flying in the air over their fallen pods, he scowled.
"Time to dust off my old jet judo skills," he told the others. "Try not to be too impressed, OK?"
With that, his jetpack flared to life and carried him on a line toward Griffe.
"Wanna dance, scum?" He grinned. "Keep in mind that 'no' isn't an available choice right now."
_______________________________________
Artfire looked up at Hyena, the space beam gun on his shoulder tracking along with his line of sight. Once he was sure he had a good fix on the Imperial, his cannon fired.
Ah, the rush of battle. All the better to wash away my worries...for a few moments, at least.
In theory the Targetmaster didn't like to fight...but sometimes he really, really needed to.
While he was charging into battle, he took his CO2 rifle in hand and used it to extinguish some of the fires that had broken out when the meteors had hit. There was, he decided, no need to make the battlefield more dangerous for his comrades than it already was.
Constructicon Field Hospital
Waiting for Pointblank to reboot, Hook glanced over as the two Predator Jet Corps entered. Several of the others in the hospital glared daggers at them.
Hook had the urge not to help them, but... well, if Swerve's point is correct and the Imperial captains are immunized against the Hate Plague...
He must deign to repair them, then.
But not to address them.
"Help." Darkjet almost begged, as Moonjet's optics flickered off. "Please."
"Oh, very well." Hook sighed, and gestured to the gurney recently vacated by Bonecrusher. "Set him there. A missing limb, I see. And failure to shut off the leaking fuel lines. Interesting, is it not, doctor Grenade? Pray tell, what transpired to cause him such damage?"
"Sixshot shot him." Darkjet replied.
"Hmm." Hook said, then pulled out his laser scalpel and began sealing off the burnt ends of the broken fuel lines on Moonjet's shoulder, all the while assessing damage on the Predator's joints. He did not numb the Predator; nor did he need to, for Moonjet had passed out due to the pain. "Hardly a flesh wound. Scavenger, be a dear and sift through the piles of dead Imperial bodies and find me a Predator arm."
_______________________________________
"No, that would not make things easier." Long Haul replied to Nightstick, deadpan, as Mixmaster calmed down, seething as Long Haul literally sat on top of the other Constructicon's chest. He sighed. "The Thunderwing shell, is it? If we're lucky, Scrapper and Hook'll find a way to murderkill Thunderwing straight off the bat."
_______________________________________
Battlefield
Broadside snorted. "But I still fly and swim, Sandstorm... probably made more awesome because I'm afraid of water and heights. Which is more to say than being trapped under a bunch of little itty bitty rocks. Wait until Whirl hears about this!"
He shrugged, "Well, Twin Twist, no sense standing around here moping about how we missed the Hate Plague because Sandstorm got his stupid aft stuck under a building, let's go kill something."
_______________________________________
Hate Plague Danger zone
"I seriously doubt that." Sandstorm told Dust Storm. "And I- what?"
Bootleg and Thunderflare's blasts slammed onto his flank. Unexpected by Sandstorm, he had no time to dodge, nor fire back, and explosions erupted across his frame.
"The Empire-" Sandstorm gasped as huge chunks from his undercarriage fell apart, and pieces of his frame trailed off. "We're bigger than you. We have more backup. Falcon- Falcon! Where are you- Skydive? Damn it-"
Not even the lesser Predators came to Sandstorm's aid, for they answer only to their commanders. Limping through the sky, Sandstorm armed his missiles and fired several more at Dust Storm, intent on at least killing his doppelganger, even as he started to lose altitude.
_______________________________________
Hyperdrive, Brawl and the Combaticons likewise moved backwards with Bluestreak. Hyperdrive raised his knife and launched one, which landed onto the infected Knock Out. Brawl opened fire with his machineguns, tearing onto the former Autobot and knocking him down, but many more of the infected were charging at them.
"I agree with your sentiments, Autobot." Hyperdrive growled. "We're murdering our own people here!"
_______________________________________
Blast Off shrugged. With nothing better to do, he added his X-Ray laser blasts into the Aerialbots' mix.
However, Skydive merely cackled.
He watched with impunity as the Aerialbots (and one Combaticon) opened fire with all their boring cliched weaponry at them. Such weaklings. Skydive's shield bubble was not penetrated by any of the other Aerialbots' blasts, save for the other Skydive's nega-gun which tore straight through the forcefield and slammed onto Skydive's side, warping the steel there.
"Oh, a Nega-gun! Finally, something that is actually worth my time..."
Skydive raised his arms, and weapons materialized from subspace in each. In one of his hands he held a Lightning Bug, and in another he held what seemed to be a Transwarp Cell.
"Once I get rid of your flunkies. You know, at least that silly green Seeker actually bothered to fight me almost one-on-one."
He launched a blast from the Lightning Bug at Overcast, aiming to fry the Aerialbot, and from the odd Transwarp-looking device, Skydive opened fire, sending a swirling blast of energy which would transport whatever it hit (Gunbarrel, hopefully) halfway across the planet.
_______________________________________
Jackpot ducked aside as Steelshot's chest was blown apart by Snarl's missile. The fact that he had murdered a wholly innocent other being did not cross Jackpot's mind.
"Hmph. Compensating for something, are you?" Jackpot picked up Deadlift's dead corpse, and launched it at Snarl again.
Meanwhile, Blurr zipped past Jackpot, knocking the other Autobot aside with a well-aimed punch to the stomach, and attempted to slam another punch or five onto Snarl's frame.
_______________________________________
"No, you're the nothing!"
Sixshot transformed into his armoured car mode, attempting to ram onto Ultra Magnus. It was a terrible decision. If Sixshot still had control of his mind, he would have reversed to avoid Magnus' fire.
As it is, the shoulder mortars blew apart chunks of his armour, including one of his hypersonic concussion cannons. The laser blasts, however, pinged off Sixshot's frame. The explosion from the mortars flipped Sixshot into the air and over Ultra Magnus' head.
Transforming as he was haplessly spinning through the air, Sixshot landed on four legs, in his beast mode. Mangled as his head was, Sixshot snarled anyway, and launched himself at Ultra Magnus, intent on dismembering the Autobot with his claws.
_______________________________________
Drag Strip growled as the acid turned into fumes. Blinded and running straight into the acid clouds (which melted his boots and obscured his sight), Drag Strip lifted his gravito-gun and began opening fire randomly, sending chunks of the terrain slamming onto themselves due to the artificial gravity generated.
"Where are you, coward?"
_______________________________________
Imperial Landing Zone
"What the hell is that- WHOA!" Buckethead couldn't process it all. Demons, meteors... "We're all going to die!" Buckethead whined, as he attempted to get under cover.
_______________________________________
"Jet judo? Ha!" Windcharger raised his arms and pulled out a chunk of Imperial shuttle hull. "Stupidest name for a martial arts school I've ever heard."
Windcharger aimed his magnetic powers onto the hull, and levitated it. Leaping onto it like a surfboard, Windcharger shot into the air after Sideswipe, riding his nonconventional hoverboard as he moved towards Demon and Griffe.
The two weren't much talkers. Griffe raised his cannon and opened fire at Sideswipe, attempting to knock him out of the sky. Demon did the same, forcing Windcharger to spin around and dodge the missile.
_______________________________________
Fearing that he would hit Sideswipe and Windcharger, Warpath transformed into tank mode... and spotted Treads.
"Knew I'd look horrible in green. HWUAGH!"
Warpath rotated his turret, and launched several mortar shells at Treads. "BOOM! CHOOM! SPOOM! Drift, ZOOM ZOOM!"
_______________________________________
"I would argue how much more useful a pair of swords are in the hands of the right Autobot is, but then you don't seem to be smart enough to understand." Drift spun his two swords to block the laser blasts sent his way, forcing to abort his attempt to behead Treads.
Still, it seemed like someone else wanted to play.
"Still, if it's a gun fight you want, my friend seems happy to oblige."
Drift darted aside, just as Warpath's mortar blasts sailed through the air towards Treads.
_______________________________________
Gears grunted as Mindset's blast slammed onto his left knee, knocking him onto the ground. "Typical. Half the size of everyone else, and that maniac shoots me."
"You're coloured like the target in a circus dart game, Gears." Arcee told him as she rolled aside to dodge Mindset's blasts.
"And you're pink! You're way brighter than me."
"He's escaping." Arcee sighed as a meteor slammed to the ground near them, taking out one of the Imperial shuttles. "Hopefully he's stupid enough to drive through the Hate Plague." She turned around to face the Imperial troopers heading their way, and sighed as she reloaded her gun.
"Please don't leave me." Gears said, deadpan.
"What do I look like... Starscream?" Arcee replied. "Watch my back."
_______________________________________
Hyena cackled as Artfire opened fire at him.
"Look at the sweet little Autobotses. Come here all lined up for Hyena to shoots. Hyena likes it when Autobotses comes to die!" Hyena cackled and spun through the air, the space beam gun narrowly missing hitting him. "Rocks, fallings from the sky! How beautiful, yes. How destrrructive!"
Hyena aimed his missiles, launching one at Artfire, and one at Pyro.
Waiting for Pointblank to reboot, Hook glanced over as the two Predator Jet Corps entered. Several of the others in the hospital glared daggers at them.
Hook had the urge not to help them, but... well, if Swerve's point is correct and the Imperial captains are immunized against the Hate Plague...
He must deign to repair them, then.
But not to address them.
"Help." Darkjet almost begged, as Moonjet's optics flickered off. "Please."
"Oh, very well." Hook sighed, and gestured to the gurney recently vacated by Bonecrusher. "Set him there. A missing limb, I see. And failure to shut off the leaking fuel lines. Interesting, is it not, doctor Grenade? Pray tell, what transpired to cause him such damage?"
"Sixshot shot him." Darkjet replied.
"Hmm." Hook said, then pulled out his laser scalpel and began sealing off the burnt ends of the broken fuel lines on Moonjet's shoulder, all the while assessing damage on the Predator's joints. He did not numb the Predator; nor did he need to, for Moonjet had passed out due to the pain. "Hardly a flesh wound. Scavenger, be a dear and sift through the piles of dead Imperial bodies and find me a Predator arm."
_______________________________________
"No, that would not make things easier." Long Haul replied to Nightstick, deadpan, as Mixmaster calmed down, seething as Long Haul literally sat on top of the other Constructicon's chest. He sighed. "The Thunderwing shell, is it? If we're lucky, Scrapper and Hook'll find a way to murderkill Thunderwing straight off the bat."
_______________________________________
Battlefield
Broadside snorted. "But I still fly and swim, Sandstorm... probably made more awesome because I'm afraid of water and heights. Which is more to say than being trapped under a bunch of little itty bitty rocks. Wait until Whirl hears about this!"
He shrugged, "Well, Twin Twist, no sense standing around here moping about how we missed the Hate Plague because Sandstorm got his stupid aft stuck under a building, let's go kill something."
_______________________________________
Hate Plague Danger zone
"I seriously doubt that." Sandstorm told Dust Storm. "And I- what?"
Bootleg and Thunderflare's blasts slammed onto his flank. Unexpected by Sandstorm, he had no time to dodge, nor fire back, and explosions erupted across his frame.
"The Empire-" Sandstorm gasped as huge chunks from his undercarriage fell apart, and pieces of his frame trailed off. "We're bigger than you. We have more backup. Falcon- Falcon! Where are you- Skydive? Damn it-"
Not even the lesser Predators came to Sandstorm's aid, for they answer only to their commanders. Limping through the sky, Sandstorm armed his missiles and fired several more at Dust Storm, intent on at least killing his doppelganger, even as he started to lose altitude.
_______________________________________
Hyperdrive, Brawl and the Combaticons likewise moved backwards with Bluestreak. Hyperdrive raised his knife and launched one, which landed onto the infected Knock Out. Brawl opened fire with his machineguns, tearing onto the former Autobot and knocking him down, but many more of the infected were charging at them.
"I agree with your sentiments, Autobot." Hyperdrive growled. "We're murdering our own people here!"
_______________________________________
Blast Off shrugged. With nothing better to do, he added his X-Ray laser blasts into the Aerialbots' mix.
However, Skydive merely cackled.
He watched with impunity as the Aerialbots (and one Combaticon) opened fire with all their boring cliched weaponry at them. Such weaklings. Skydive's shield bubble was not penetrated by any of the other Aerialbots' blasts, save for the other Skydive's nega-gun which tore straight through the forcefield and slammed onto Skydive's side, warping the steel there.
"Oh, a Nega-gun! Finally, something that is actually worth my time..."
Skydive raised his arms, and weapons materialized from subspace in each. In one of his hands he held a Lightning Bug, and in another he held what seemed to be a Transwarp Cell.
"Once I get rid of your flunkies. You know, at least that silly green Seeker actually bothered to fight me almost one-on-one."
He launched a blast from the Lightning Bug at Overcast, aiming to fry the Aerialbot, and from the odd Transwarp-looking device, Skydive opened fire, sending a swirling blast of energy which would transport whatever it hit (Gunbarrel, hopefully) halfway across the planet.
_______________________________________
Jackpot ducked aside as Steelshot's chest was blown apart by Snarl's missile. The fact that he had murdered a wholly innocent other being did not cross Jackpot's mind.
"Hmph. Compensating for something, are you?" Jackpot picked up Deadlift's dead corpse, and launched it at Snarl again.
Meanwhile, Blurr zipped past Jackpot, knocking the other Autobot aside with a well-aimed punch to the stomach, and attempted to slam another punch or five onto Snarl's frame.
_______________________________________
"No, you're the nothing!"
Sixshot transformed into his armoured car mode, attempting to ram onto Ultra Magnus. It was a terrible decision. If Sixshot still had control of his mind, he would have reversed to avoid Magnus' fire.
As it is, the shoulder mortars blew apart chunks of his armour, including one of his hypersonic concussion cannons. The laser blasts, however, pinged off Sixshot's frame. The explosion from the mortars flipped Sixshot into the air and over Ultra Magnus' head.
Transforming as he was haplessly spinning through the air, Sixshot landed on four legs, in his beast mode. Mangled as his head was, Sixshot snarled anyway, and launched himself at Ultra Magnus, intent on dismembering the Autobot with his claws.
_______________________________________
Drag Strip growled as the acid turned into fumes. Blinded and running straight into the acid clouds (which melted his boots and obscured his sight), Drag Strip lifted his gravito-gun and began opening fire randomly, sending chunks of the terrain slamming onto themselves due to the artificial gravity generated.
"Where are you, coward?"
_______________________________________
Imperial Landing Zone
"What the hell is that- WHOA!" Buckethead couldn't process it all. Demons, meteors... "We're all going to die!" Buckethead whined, as he attempted to get under cover.
_______________________________________
"Jet judo? Ha!" Windcharger raised his arms and pulled out a chunk of Imperial shuttle hull. "Stupidest name for a martial arts school I've ever heard."
Windcharger aimed his magnetic powers onto the hull, and levitated it. Leaping onto it like a surfboard, Windcharger shot into the air after Sideswipe, riding his nonconventional hoverboard as he moved towards Demon and Griffe.
The two weren't much talkers. Griffe raised his cannon and opened fire at Sideswipe, attempting to knock him out of the sky. Demon did the same, forcing Windcharger to spin around and dodge the missile.
_______________________________________
Fearing that he would hit Sideswipe and Windcharger, Warpath transformed into tank mode... and spotted Treads.
"Knew I'd look horrible in green. HWUAGH!"
Warpath rotated his turret, and launched several mortar shells at Treads. "BOOM! CHOOM! SPOOM! Drift, ZOOM ZOOM!"
_______________________________________
"I would argue how much more useful a pair of swords are in the hands of the right Autobot is, but then you don't seem to be smart enough to understand." Drift spun his two swords to block the laser blasts sent his way, forcing to abort his attempt to behead Treads.
Still, it seemed like someone else wanted to play.
"Still, if it's a gun fight you want, my friend seems happy to oblige."
Drift darted aside, just as Warpath's mortar blasts sailed through the air towards Treads.
_______________________________________
Gears grunted as Mindset's blast slammed onto his left knee, knocking him onto the ground. "Typical. Half the size of everyone else, and that maniac shoots me."
"You're coloured like the target in a circus dart game, Gears." Arcee told him as she rolled aside to dodge Mindset's blasts.
"And you're pink! You're way brighter than me."
"He's escaping." Arcee sighed as a meteor slammed to the ground near them, taking out one of the Imperial shuttles. "Hopefully he's stupid enough to drive through the Hate Plague." She turned around to face the Imperial troopers heading their way, and sighed as she reloaded her gun.
"Please don't leave me." Gears said, deadpan.
"What do I look like... Starscream?" Arcee replied. "Watch my back."
_______________________________________
Hyena cackled as Artfire opened fire at him.
"Look at the sweet little Autobotses. Come here all lined up for Hyena to shoots. Hyena likes it when Autobotses comes to die!" Hyena cackled and spun through the air, the space beam gun narrowly missing hitting him. "Rocks, fallings from the sky! How beautiful, yes. How destrrructive!"
Hyena aimed his missiles, launching one at Artfire, and one at Pyro.
Imperial Landing Zone
Treds grinned as Drift backed away and Warpath decidied to join in. "Oh yeah" he said as he transformed and fired back at the tank, blowing morters out of the sky all the while.
____________________________________
Bad Boy flew through the air, a sleek bird in the air, as he fired through the sky.
Treds grinned as Drift backed away and Warpath decidied to join in. "Oh yeah" he said as he transformed and fired back at the tank, blowing morters out of the sky all the while.
____________________________________
Bad Boy flew through the air, a sleek bird in the air, as he fired through the sky.
Wastleland-Protihexian Border, Trion
Prowl's face bore no expression as he listened to Ultra Magnus lose himself to the Hate Plague on the other line. He remained unencumbered, responding only as his cold subroutines would allow. In this situation, they told him to remain focused, as a General should be.
Instead, he waited a few seconds for the inevitable call from one of his flight officers, already on the field, to inform Prowl of what he already knew. And right on cue, Sky High's transmission came in.
"Understood, Sky High," said Prowl. "You and Advance Team Beta withdrawal from the red zone and concentrate your efforts on taking down infected flyers."
The General looked to his first bridge officer. "Mainframe. Has the perimeter been established?
"It has, sir. All officers are standing by."
"Good," said Prowl. "Their orders remain in effect. The infected are not permitted to escape past the border. Non-lethal/immobilizing weaponry should be used to restrict infected mechanoids from moving past the red zone. Unless so ordered by myself or Optimus Prime, lethal force is not authorized*."
(OOC: * For now
)
____________________
Constructicon Field Hospital
Perceptor humored Long Haul and politely nodded as the Constructicon had his rant. And to a very marginal degree, the science officer silently agreed. Not that Perceptor would ever concede that point to the Decepticons, let alone these Decepticons. The Constructicons, after all, were of Megatron's ilk, not Gigatron's who were at very least agreeable with Cybertron's other factions.
But, the Decepticon's from Polyhex; they had deliberately alienated themselves from the rest of the planet by continuing to instigate conflicts in both Gigatronian and Autobot nations.
Your words are hollow and grossly hypocritical, Perceptor mused, resisting the urge to mention his thoughts out loud. Though Perceptor appreciated Polyhex's aid during this dark time -- and Hook had been surprisingly good company -- he struggled to empathize with Long Haul.
That, and he refused to.
When the Constructicon eventually did finish, Perceptor shrugged and calmly replied with, "Mm, Iaconian politics are regretfully complicated these days." His tone was mannerly, but unabashedly disingenuous. "And as Mixmaster here said, the crew of the Steelhaven were charged to defend Protihex's populace. A tactical retreat was the only logical course. Need I remind you, that nearly half of the city-state's population is aboard that ship, many of which are wounded. Relocating them to a safe distance cannot be accomplished expeditiously as you believe. Better the Steelhaven provide support from a safe, and hopefully concealed position."
Perceptor's eyes met Scrapper's. "Autobot drop ships, you say? Ah, so Iacon is here," He said. The Autobot then quickly jerked his head back to Hook. "And Omega Sentinels? Are you certain?" The science officer stared thoughtfully off for a moment, then continued. "Interesting. At any rate -- yes, Scrapper, that would be a serviceable power source. A dropship's reserves would be more than sufficient to power the refractive field antennas left behind by the Steelhaven."
At the moment, Pointblank moaned as he stirred awake from stasis lock, once again diverting Perceptor's attention.
"...Nnn...Uhh...ow, damn it...I feel like someone jammed an endoscopic claw into m--" The Targetmaster paused when he realized that Hook was standing over him, along with Perceptor. He spotted three more Constructicons moving about nearby. "Um, all right. Perceptor...?"
"Do not fret, you are safe," Perceptor told him.
"T-that's - that's good to know. Was worried there for a second." Pointblank sat up on the slab. "I take it you took out that Trakkon Commander then?"
"Indeed. A well placed cerebral-sensitive bullet to its secondary processor impeded the Imperial's movement long enough for to me deliver the killing blow."
Pointblank blinked a few times before replying. "So it's an 'It', now*? Heh, were you always this callous?" He lightly quipped. "And Inferno? Did he make it?"
"No, I'm afraid not."
The Targetmaster pinched the bridge between his eyes and sighed. "Damn it. He shouldn't have rushed in like that," he whispered. "We weren't all that close, but that's really too bad."
"Truly, but we must mourn him later," Perceptor firmly told him. "I will give you a moment to collect yourself, Pointblank, but I require your aid on the field. I apologize, Hook, but I must disregard your advice," he looked over his shoulder at the attending Constructicon, "We must reach the refractive web antennas before it is too late."
(OOC: * - Hey, don't look at me. Slartibartfast wrote Percy as a bastard first. I just chose to continue that trend
)
________________
Imperial Landing Zone
With the help of his feet-mounted boosters, Optimus Prime bounded across the succession of small explosions laid out by Trap as he made his pass over the Autobot Leader.
He safely cleared the jump, though perhaps a little too easily Optimus considered. Be it through a Prime's intuition, or simply by studying his opponent's actions, it was clear to him that Trap's spark was not in it.
"Retreat now, Imperial, before it is too late," he entreated.
Optimus then swung his rifles around and returned fire, this time targeting the reluctant Imperial's rear engines.
---
(OOC; Treds and Bad Boy are Imperials now?)
Treds cannon fire smacked against the hull of the Calabi Yau, taking the smaller shuttle slightly off course and managing to rattle those on the bridge.
Gripping the armrests of the captain's chair to keep himself from flying into the main monitor, Kick-Off scowled. "Rrr, that was stupid -- Return fire," he told a nearby bridge officer.
The Calabi Yau made a sharp turn in the air and came back around. As it sailed overhead, the shuttle fired on Treds, peppering the ground with artillery shells.
-----
An Omega Sentinel is a large target. To any mechanoid looking on, this is an unavoidable fact. Its dense plating more than makes up for this weakness, of course, but it is indeed still a large target. Bad Boy's barrage hit more or less where intended.
For all the good it did.
The acid pellets were able to melt small, shallow holes along the giant robot's shin guards. Another landed at the top of its head, before the Sentinel's defensive measures kicked in and dosed the corrosive chemicals with retardant foam.
The Omega Sentinel turned its head, the gears and inner-mechanism joining its head to its body whirled and groaned as it brought its icy gaze onto Bad Boy.
It analyzed the Imperial jet as it twirled away, determining it capabilities and threat level, before quickly reaching its conclusion.
The Guardian Robot's large visor flashed. Then, it turned its head away from Bad Boy. It was unimpressed by the Imperial.
RESUME PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: NEUTRALIZE ENEMY ENCAMPMENT.
With that, it raised its massive canon arm and unleashed a single plasma bolt at the communications tower...
_______________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
From the corner of his optics, Fortress Maximus watched as Siren's sonic attack sent a nearby cluster of Morphobots quailing back.
"Hm, yes -- Yes, keep that up for a while longer, Siren," The large headmaster commed over to his crewmate. Opening a separate channel, he then said, "Countdown, do you read me?"
"We're still here, Maximus. Fleeing from a swarm of Scraplets, but still here," answered the Micromaster.
"Good to hear. I have a question: Groundshaker illegally equipped his ATV - that I assume you are still piloting - with sonic boomers, correct?"
"How did you -- Erm, yes. In fact, I checked the specs just a few moments ago for Barricade here. Still equipped," said Countdown. "What's the target?"
"The Morphobots. They're repelled by sonic-based attacks. Siren and a few of the Combaticons are doing what they can to prevent them from sprawling out further, but I'm sure they wouldn't oppose to an assist."
"We're on our way."
----
The Autobot all-terrian vehicle took a hard turn, spinning itself a full 180 degrees. Its wheels kicked up bits of debris and sediment as the ATV skidded along the steel ground, before racing off back toward the danger zone.
"Uh, Countdown? What're you doing?" asked Freeway.
"That was Fortress Maximus," answered Countdown. "He just informed me that the Morphobots are repelled by sonic-based attacks. This ATV just so happens to be equipped with such weaponry, so we're turning around."
----
Fortress Maximus shifted his attention back to the battlefield, where, in a matter of a few minutes, all hell had broken loose.
Menasor and Ruination were down, their surviving component parts either fleeing for their lives or tearing each other apart. Rage and several of his followers had also fallen victim to the plague. Most of the Steelhaven Captain's crew-mates were nowhere to be seen, having retreated as per his instructions.
Bluestreak and Hyperdrive, along Brawl and a few Combaticons remained, spread throughout the former-Steelhaven site. (OOC: Sorry if I missed any 'Bots or 'Cons.)
Fortress Maximus kept his photon rifle ready and pointed out towards the infected Cybertronians, who at the moment were preoccupied with killing each other than by the Autobots watching from afar.
"No, I don't like this either," he eventually answered Bluestreak, his optics fixed on the red-glowing mechanoids.
With his free hand, the large Autobot then tapped his audio receiver, opening his comlink. "Shockwave -- when you and Acid Storm are finished in the troposphere, we could use some suppression fire down here - or rather an EMP wave, wide enough to take down the infected within our general vicinity. Can this be done?"
"It is within my capabilities," answered Shockwave. "I am en route."
Closing out his comlink, Fortress Maximus promptly converted into his cruiser form. "Get on, Bluestreak*. We're leaving."
(* - OOC: And anyone else not infected that are nearby, if they're interested)
_______________
Manganese Mountains, Steelhaven
Ratchet nodded back at Road Hugger. "I swore to keep them safe and I still intend to," he said. "And you take care yourself. These people need as many defenders as they can get. You take care too, Hoist."
Hoist gave Ratchet a firm, but quick hug in response. "I will, Ratchet." He gave the Captain a pat on the back, then released his hold. "Don't worry, I'll be back."
---
Hoist followed the Combaticon Leader up the boarding ramp into his shuttle. Since the vessel was small, it was a short walk - just a few rooms down - from the cargo hold to the cockpit.
In the pilot compartment, the Autobot mechanic took his place in front of the control panel and immediately began to work the switches. "Get yourself situated, Road Hugger," Hoist called out. "We're off."
Prowl's face bore no expression as he listened to Ultra Magnus lose himself to the Hate Plague on the other line. He remained unencumbered, responding only as his cold subroutines would allow. In this situation, they told him to remain focused, as a General should be.
Instead, he waited a few seconds for the inevitable call from one of his flight officers, already on the field, to inform Prowl of what he already knew. And right on cue, Sky High's transmission came in.
"Understood, Sky High," said Prowl. "You and Advance Team Beta withdrawal from the red zone and concentrate your efforts on taking down infected flyers."
The General looked to his first bridge officer. "Mainframe. Has the perimeter been established?
"It has, sir. All officers are standing by."
"Good," said Prowl. "Their orders remain in effect. The infected are not permitted to escape past the border. Non-lethal/immobilizing weaponry should be used to restrict infected mechanoids from moving past the red zone. Unless so ordered by myself or Optimus Prime, lethal force is not authorized*."
(OOC: * For now
) ____________________
Constructicon Field Hospital
Perceptor humored Long Haul and politely nodded as the Constructicon had his rant. And to a very marginal degree, the science officer silently agreed. Not that Perceptor would ever concede that point to the Decepticons, let alone these Decepticons. The Constructicons, after all, were of Megatron's ilk, not Gigatron's who were at very least agreeable with Cybertron's other factions.
But, the Decepticon's from Polyhex; they had deliberately alienated themselves from the rest of the planet by continuing to instigate conflicts in both Gigatronian and Autobot nations.
Your words are hollow and grossly hypocritical, Perceptor mused, resisting the urge to mention his thoughts out loud. Though Perceptor appreciated Polyhex's aid during this dark time -- and Hook had been surprisingly good company -- he struggled to empathize with Long Haul.
That, and he refused to.
When the Constructicon eventually did finish, Perceptor shrugged and calmly replied with, "Mm, Iaconian politics are regretfully complicated these days." His tone was mannerly, but unabashedly disingenuous. "And as Mixmaster here said, the crew of the Steelhaven were charged to defend Protihex's populace. A tactical retreat was the only logical course. Need I remind you, that nearly half of the city-state's population is aboard that ship, many of which are wounded. Relocating them to a safe distance cannot be accomplished expeditiously as you believe. Better the Steelhaven provide support from a safe, and hopefully concealed position."
Perceptor's eyes met Scrapper's. "Autobot drop ships, you say? Ah, so Iacon is here," He said. The Autobot then quickly jerked his head back to Hook. "And Omega Sentinels? Are you certain?" The science officer stared thoughtfully off for a moment, then continued. "Interesting. At any rate -- yes, Scrapper, that would be a serviceable power source. A dropship's reserves would be more than sufficient to power the refractive field antennas left behind by the Steelhaven."
At the moment, Pointblank moaned as he stirred awake from stasis lock, once again diverting Perceptor's attention.
"...Nnn...Uhh...ow, damn it...I feel like someone jammed an endoscopic claw into m--" The Targetmaster paused when he realized that Hook was standing over him, along with Perceptor. He spotted three more Constructicons moving about nearby. "Um, all right. Perceptor...?"
"Do not fret, you are safe," Perceptor told him.
"T-that's - that's good to know. Was worried there for a second." Pointblank sat up on the slab. "I take it you took out that Trakkon Commander then?"
"Indeed. A well placed cerebral-sensitive bullet to its secondary processor impeded the Imperial's movement long enough for to me deliver the killing blow."
Pointblank blinked a few times before replying. "So it's an 'It', now*? Heh, were you always this callous?" He lightly quipped. "And Inferno? Did he make it?"
"No, I'm afraid not."
The Targetmaster pinched the bridge between his eyes and sighed. "Damn it. He shouldn't have rushed in like that," he whispered. "We weren't all that close, but that's really too bad."
"Truly, but we must mourn him later," Perceptor firmly told him. "I will give you a moment to collect yourself, Pointblank, but I require your aid on the field. I apologize, Hook, but I must disregard your advice," he looked over his shoulder at the attending Constructicon, "We must reach the refractive web antennas before it is too late."
(OOC: * - Hey, don't look at me. Slartibartfast wrote Percy as a bastard first. I just chose to continue that trend
)________________
Imperial Landing Zone
With the help of his feet-mounted boosters, Optimus Prime bounded across the succession of small explosions laid out by Trap as he made his pass over the Autobot Leader.
He safely cleared the jump, though perhaps a little too easily Optimus considered. Be it through a Prime's intuition, or simply by studying his opponent's actions, it was clear to him that Trap's spark was not in it.
"Retreat now, Imperial, before it is too late," he entreated.
Optimus then swung his rifles around and returned fire, this time targeting the reluctant Imperial's rear engines.
---
(OOC; Treds and Bad Boy are Imperials now?)
Treds cannon fire smacked against the hull of the Calabi Yau, taking the smaller shuttle slightly off course and managing to rattle those on the bridge.
Gripping the armrests of the captain's chair to keep himself from flying into the main monitor, Kick-Off scowled. "Rrr, that was stupid -- Return fire," he told a nearby bridge officer.
The Calabi Yau made a sharp turn in the air and came back around. As it sailed overhead, the shuttle fired on Treds, peppering the ground with artillery shells.
-----
An Omega Sentinel is a large target. To any mechanoid looking on, this is an unavoidable fact. Its dense plating more than makes up for this weakness, of course, but it is indeed still a large target. Bad Boy's barrage hit more or less where intended.
For all the good it did.
The acid pellets were able to melt small, shallow holes along the giant robot's shin guards. Another landed at the top of its head, before the Sentinel's defensive measures kicked in and dosed the corrosive chemicals with retardant foam.
The Omega Sentinel turned its head, the gears and inner-mechanism joining its head to its body whirled and groaned as it brought its icy gaze onto Bad Boy.
It analyzed the Imperial jet as it twirled away, determining it capabilities and threat level, before quickly reaching its conclusion.
The Guardian Robot's large visor flashed. Then, it turned its head away from Bad Boy. It was unimpressed by the Imperial.
RESUME PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: NEUTRALIZE ENEMY ENCAMPMENT.
With that, it raised its massive canon arm and unleashed a single plasma bolt at the communications tower...
_______________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
From the corner of his optics, Fortress Maximus watched as Siren's sonic attack sent a nearby cluster of Morphobots quailing back.
"Hm, yes -- Yes, keep that up for a while longer, Siren," The large headmaster commed over to his crewmate. Opening a separate channel, he then said, "Countdown, do you read me?"
"We're still here, Maximus. Fleeing from a swarm of Scraplets, but still here," answered the Micromaster.
"Good to hear. I have a question: Groundshaker illegally equipped his ATV - that I assume you are still piloting - with sonic boomers, correct?"
"How did you -- Erm, yes. In fact, I checked the specs just a few moments ago for Barricade here. Still equipped," said Countdown. "What's the target?"
"The Morphobots. They're repelled by sonic-based attacks. Siren and a few of the Combaticons are doing what they can to prevent them from sprawling out further, but I'm sure they wouldn't oppose to an assist."
"We're on our way."
----
The Autobot all-terrian vehicle took a hard turn, spinning itself a full 180 degrees. Its wheels kicked up bits of debris and sediment as the ATV skidded along the steel ground, before racing off back toward the danger zone.
"Uh, Countdown? What're you doing?" asked Freeway.
"That was Fortress Maximus," answered Countdown. "He just informed me that the Morphobots are repelled by sonic-based attacks. This ATV just so happens to be equipped with such weaponry, so we're turning around."
----
Fortress Maximus shifted his attention back to the battlefield, where, in a matter of a few minutes, all hell had broken loose.
Menasor and Ruination were down, their surviving component parts either fleeing for their lives or tearing each other apart. Rage and several of his followers had also fallen victim to the plague. Most of the Steelhaven Captain's crew-mates were nowhere to be seen, having retreated as per his instructions.
Bluestreak and Hyperdrive, along Brawl and a few Combaticons remained, spread throughout the former-Steelhaven site. (OOC: Sorry if I missed any 'Bots or 'Cons.)
Fortress Maximus kept his photon rifle ready and pointed out towards the infected Cybertronians, who at the moment were preoccupied with killing each other than by the Autobots watching from afar.
"No, I don't like this either," he eventually answered Bluestreak, his optics fixed on the red-glowing mechanoids.
With his free hand, the large Autobot then tapped his audio receiver, opening his comlink. "Shockwave -- when you and Acid Storm are finished in the troposphere, we could use some suppression fire down here - or rather an EMP wave, wide enough to take down the infected within our general vicinity. Can this be done?"
"It is within my capabilities," answered Shockwave. "I am en route."
Closing out his comlink, Fortress Maximus promptly converted into his cruiser form. "Get on, Bluestreak*. We're leaving."
(* - OOC: And anyone else not infected that are nearby, if they're interested)
_______________
Manganese Mountains, Steelhaven
Ratchet nodded back at Road Hugger. "I swore to keep them safe and I still intend to," he said. "And you take care yourself. These people need as many defenders as they can get. You take care too, Hoist."
Hoist gave Ratchet a firm, but quick hug in response. "I will, Ratchet." He gave the Captain a pat on the back, then released his hold. "Don't worry, I'll be back."
---
Hoist followed the Combaticon Leader up the boarding ramp into his shuttle. Since the vessel was small, it was a short walk - just a few rooms down - from the cargo hold to the cockpit.
In the pilot compartment, the Autobot mechanic took his place in front of the control panel and immediately began to work the switches. "Get yourself situated, Road Hugger," Hoist called out. "We're off."
Skies
###
"Get out of there!" Coach yelled, his voice loud and clear even across the screams of the crowd in the stadium. "Block the midfielders!"
Obeying orders almost without question, Sky turned around from his course to the mad rush for the enemy goalposts, and charged towards the opponent midfielders, who were, sure enough, attempting to join the rush for possession of the ball.
Of course, it would be terribly difficult now for them to steal the ball away, now that Sky was marking them...
And true enough, the ball soon came shooting their way. All reason abandoned, both Sky and the midfielders he were supposed to block charged for the ball. Sky kicked at it as hard as it could, and sent it sailing back towards his team strikers...
###
Sky High turned around from where he was headed, towards Ultra Magnus, when he heard Prowl's reply, and headed away, towards the other fliers in the area. He opened fire at the Imperials, sending them falling down to the red sea below.
________________________________
Constructicon Field Hospital
Long Haul snorted at Perceptor's non-reply as he glared into the room, not bothering to move the Thunderwing shell unless Scrapper or Hook or Highbrow or someone told him to.
Typical of Autobots. So high and mighty.
"Better for us to arm them with guns so they can fight with us." Long Haul muttered.
"Um, Long Haul? These are Autobots." Mixmaster grinned. "And the neutrals are weak, sorry little slagpiles who don't know the barrel end of a gun yet think they should have place in society society society. Those who can are happy to fly away while we evil warlords die defending them. Although to be fair, the Autobots probably did us a favour... if we left those miserable cretins here they'll all be infected by the Hate Plague, and a lot of little scraplets like them can be deadly, yes yes yes."
"Shut up, both of you." Hook snapped, irate. Again, it was not that he did not share his comrade's concerns, but they were behaving so improfessionally! "Contact the Autobot dropships, then, let them be aware of our plans." Hook snorted as Pointblank woke up. "I did no such thing." He snapped, "I merely prodded around the recesses of your cerebral cavity."
Hook nodded approvingly when Perceptor called the Imperial captain an 'it'. Always good to hear that they place less value on enemy life. So much for the vaunted Autobot ideal... Hook snorted as he continued to work on Moonjet. Say what you want about the Decepticons, at least they don't hide and pretend to be holier-than-thou when they are not.
Hook shrugged nonchalantly, "My dear Autobot, do not worry about my advice, they are seldom taken, and almost always certainly I shall see your face hereabouts... or, well, the desired future is that I shall not see you again."
"He means he wishes you die horribly when you go out there to do heroic stuff." Mixmaster offered. A spanner flew through the air and slammed onto Mixmaster's face, sending him falling comically onto his back.
Hook glanced at Scrapper, giving the other Constructicon an exasperated look.
________________________________
Imperial Landing Zone
"I want to. Don't have a choice." Trap replied to Optimus Prime, cutting his engines and falling like a rock to the ground, letting the Autobot leader's fire fly above him.
Trap transformed and spun around, pulling his missile launcher and launching a barrage of missiles at Optimus Prime.
________________________________
Warpath continued to open fire at Treds, mixing some sonic shells and shrapnel shells into the mix. Admittedly his green doppelganger had some skills, but Warpath was not without his own.
Spinning his turret around to take out an Imperial soldier that was attempting to get the drop on Gears and Arcee, Warpath rotated his turret to launch more shells Treds' way.
________________________________
"I swear, they're doing it on purpose." Drift muttered as the Calabi-Yau opened fire on Treds. Combined with Warpath's fire, within melee range of the green Imperial was certainly not producing much luck for the swords-wielding Autobot.
Deciding that Treds would be easily dealt with by Warpath and those aboard the Calabi-Yau, Drift's optics darted around, and spotted the battle between Pyro and Buzzard. The two larger combatants seemed evenly matched, launching bullets and plasma blasts and gouts of fireballs at each other... Drift charged towards the battle, pulling out his greatsword from his back, gripping it in a two-handed grip as he rushed Buzzard, attempting to catch him from his rear flank.
________________________________
Windcharger, moving through the air like some mad surfer, was surrounded by Demon. Demon barked out what passed as a laugh as he raised his missile launcher and fired a missile at Windcharger.
Windcharger nonchalantly raised a hand, fingers splayed, almost calmly... and the screws and plates holding the missile together began disassembling themsleves, and the missile fell apart mid-air, and exploded.
"You know, you should give up right about now, ugly." Windcharger said, flexing his fingers.
"Nnnnn- No." Demon hooted out like a wild beast... and several more flights of Imperial Thunderjets shot into the fray.
Windcharger was clearly not impressed, as he leant down on his makeshift surfboard, and shot towards the Thunderjets, using his magnetic powers to push, or pull, or generally ruin the Thunderjets' evening.
________________________________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
"Aaaa!" The sudden hard turn knocked Barricade off his perch, and the Decepitcon held onto the railing on the rear end of the vehicle for dear life. "What the frag?!"
One of the Scraplets leapt, trying to sink its teeth onto Barricade's leg, but the Micromaster had enough sense to pull out his gun and fire at the tiny screw-like robot.
"Wonderful." Barricade muttered. "Forgive me for being remiss, but what are we gonna do about the Scraplets and the Hate Plague that are all around us?"
________________________________
Brawl watched as Fortress Maximus transformed. Retreating was not his thing. But seeing that they are lost... "Undertow! Get the survivors, get them onto the Maximus! Thunderhead, cover rear with me!"
"Right!" The remaining Combaticons, about ten to fifteen uninfected, scrambled up the Maximus. Brawl and Thunderhead remained behind, rolling backwards in their vehicle mode as they opened fire at the Morphobots.
Hyperdrive pulled out a chunk of debris and launched it at an infected neutral, utterly crashing the poor guy's skull. Probably didn't get out in time... not that Hyperdrive cared, anyway.
"Oh kay, we're escaping? Not very..." Hyperdrive then caught sight of Sixshot and Ultra Magnus duking it out in the red mist. "Yeah. Excellent battle strategy. Yep." The Decepticon, making sure Detour was still safely encased in his chest cavity, hopped aborad the Maximus.
________________________________
Manganese Mountains, Steelhaven
"Protihex is my responsibility too." Road Hugger growled, more to himself than to anyone. Hearing those words out loud was... well, it helped his resolve, at least. "The Combaticons are my people. Thank you, Ratchet... you actually turned out to be a nice guy."
Road Hugger gave Hoist a nod, gave the feared Autobot Medic of Doom one last look, then closed the shuttle hatch.
"Let's be off." Road Hugger told Hoist as he seated himself. "And hurry!"
###
"Get out of there!" Coach yelled, his voice loud and clear even across the screams of the crowd in the stadium. "Block the midfielders!"
Obeying orders almost without question, Sky turned around from his course to the mad rush for the enemy goalposts, and charged towards the opponent midfielders, who were, sure enough, attempting to join the rush for possession of the ball.
Of course, it would be terribly difficult now for them to steal the ball away, now that Sky was marking them...
And true enough, the ball soon came shooting their way. All reason abandoned, both Sky and the midfielders he were supposed to block charged for the ball. Sky kicked at it as hard as it could, and sent it sailing back towards his team strikers...
###
Sky High turned around from where he was headed, towards Ultra Magnus, when he heard Prowl's reply, and headed away, towards the other fliers in the area. He opened fire at the Imperials, sending them falling down to the red sea below.
________________________________
Constructicon Field Hospital
Long Haul snorted at Perceptor's non-reply as he glared into the room, not bothering to move the Thunderwing shell unless Scrapper or Hook or Highbrow or someone told him to.
Typical of Autobots. So high and mighty.
"Better for us to arm them with guns so they can fight with us." Long Haul muttered.
"Um, Long Haul? These are Autobots." Mixmaster grinned. "And the neutrals are weak, sorry little slagpiles who don't know the barrel end of a gun yet think they should have place in society society society. Those who can are happy to fly away while we evil warlords die defending them. Although to be fair, the Autobots probably did us a favour... if we left those miserable cretins here they'll all be infected by the Hate Plague, and a lot of little scraplets like them can be deadly, yes yes yes."
"Shut up, both of you." Hook snapped, irate. Again, it was not that he did not share his comrade's concerns, but they were behaving so improfessionally! "Contact the Autobot dropships, then, let them be aware of our plans." Hook snorted as Pointblank woke up. "I did no such thing." He snapped, "I merely prodded around the recesses of your cerebral cavity."
Hook nodded approvingly when Perceptor called the Imperial captain an 'it'. Always good to hear that they place less value on enemy life. So much for the vaunted Autobot ideal... Hook snorted as he continued to work on Moonjet. Say what you want about the Decepticons, at least they don't hide and pretend to be holier-than-thou when they are not.
Hook shrugged nonchalantly, "My dear Autobot, do not worry about my advice, they are seldom taken, and almost always certainly I shall see your face hereabouts... or, well, the desired future is that I shall not see you again."
"He means he wishes you die horribly when you go out there to do heroic stuff." Mixmaster offered. A spanner flew through the air and slammed onto Mixmaster's face, sending him falling comically onto his back.
Hook glanced at Scrapper, giving the other Constructicon an exasperated look.
________________________________
Imperial Landing Zone
"I want to. Don't have a choice." Trap replied to Optimus Prime, cutting his engines and falling like a rock to the ground, letting the Autobot leader's fire fly above him.
Trap transformed and spun around, pulling his missile launcher and launching a barrage of missiles at Optimus Prime.
________________________________
Warpath continued to open fire at Treds, mixing some sonic shells and shrapnel shells into the mix. Admittedly his green doppelganger had some skills, but Warpath was not without his own.
Spinning his turret around to take out an Imperial soldier that was attempting to get the drop on Gears and Arcee, Warpath rotated his turret to launch more shells Treds' way.
________________________________
"I swear, they're doing it on purpose." Drift muttered as the Calabi-Yau opened fire on Treds. Combined with Warpath's fire, within melee range of the green Imperial was certainly not producing much luck for the swords-wielding Autobot.
Deciding that Treds would be easily dealt with by Warpath and those aboard the Calabi-Yau, Drift's optics darted around, and spotted the battle between Pyro and Buzzard. The two larger combatants seemed evenly matched, launching bullets and plasma blasts and gouts of fireballs at each other... Drift charged towards the battle, pulling out his greatsword from his back, gripping it in a two-handed grip as he rushed Buzzard, attempting to catch him from his rear flank.
________________________________
Windcharger, moving through the air like some mad surfer, was surrounded by Demon. Demon barked out what passed as a laugh as he raised his missile launcher and fired a missile at Windcharger.
Windcharger nonchalantly raised a hand, fingers splayed, almost calmly... and the screws and plates holding the missile together began disassembling themsleves, and the missile fell apart mid-air, and exploded.
"You know, you should give up right about now, ugly." Windcharger said, flexing his fingers.
"Nnnnn- No." Demon hooted out like a wild beast... and several more flights of Imperial Thunderjets shot into the fray.
Windcharger was clearly not impressed, as he leant down on his makeshift surfboard, and shot towards the Thunderjets, using his magnetic powers to push, or pull, or generally ruin the Thunderjets' evening.
________________________________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
"Aaaa!" The sudden hard turn knocked Barricade off his perch, and the Decepitcon held onto the railing on the rear end of the vehicle for dear life. "What the frag?!"
One of the Scraplets leapt, trying to sink its teeth onto Barricade's leg, but the Micromaster had enough sense to pull out his gun and fire at the tiny screw-like robot.
"Wonderful." Barricade muttered. "Forgive me for being remiss, but what are we gonna do about the Scraplets and the Hate Plague that are all around us?"
________________________________
Brawl watched as Fortress Maximus transformed. Retreating was not his thing. But seeing that they are lost... "Undertow! Get the survivors, get them onto the Maximus! Thunderhead, cover rear with me!"
"Right!" The remaining Combaticons, about ten to fifteen uninfected, scrambled up the Maximus. Brawl and Thunderhead remained behind, rolling backwards in their vehicle mode as they opened fire at the Morphobots.
Hyperdrive pulled out a chunk of debris and launched it at an infected neutral, utterly crashing the poor guy's skull. Probably didn't get out in time... not that Hyperdrive cared, anyway.
"Oh kay, we're escaping? Not very..." Hyperdrive then caught sight of Sixshot and Ultra Magnus duking it out in the red mist. "Yeah. Excellent battle strategy. Yep." The Decepticon, making sure Detour was still safely encased in his chest cavity, hopped aborad the Maximus.
________________________________
Manganese Mountains, Steelhaven
"Protihex is my responsibility too." Road Hugger growled, more to himself than to anyone. Hearing those words out loud was... well, it helped his resolve, at least. "The Combaticons are my people. Thank you, Ratchet... you actually turned out to be a nice guy."
Road Hugger gave Hoist a nod, gave the feared Autobot Medic of Doom one last look, then closed the shuttle hatch.
"Let's be off." Road Hugger told Hoist as he seated himself. "And hurry!"
-
optimusskids
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- Joined: Mon Dec 27, 2004 11:24 am
- Location: UK
Imperial Landing Zone
A larger meteorite hit an Imperial shuttle and plunged into it's engine spaces shearing the engine containment field causing it to explode in a cloud of debris.
~*~
Scoop clubbed the last Imperial with the but of his rifle.
" OUCHHHH"
"oops sorry forgot Targetmaste rand all that not good idea to club things with your Nebulan.
He opened a com link.
"Hi there Broadside, Was just a bit busy, i was cut off have you heard form any of the others?"
A larger meteorite hit an Imperial shuttle and plunged into it's engine spaces shearing the engine containment field causing it to explode in a cloud of debris.
~*~
Scoop clubbed the last Imperial with the but of his rifle.
" OUCHHHH"
"oops sorry forgot Targetmaste rand all that not good idea to club things with your Nebulan.
He opened a com link.
"Hi there Broadside, Was just a bit busy, i was cut off have you heard form any of the others?"
-
optimusskids
- Protoform
- Posts: 6981
- Joined: Mon Dec 27, 2004 11:24 am
- Location: UK
Battlefield
Broadside shook his head. "I failed my geography, Scoop. Modern, post-Quintian geography, at least. Any chance you could be more, um, descriptive?"
Broadside looked around the city, and snorted. "Near the smoldering flames? Near more smoldering flames? East of the evil red Hate Plague cloudkill zone?" Broadside shrugged as he raised his other hand and a monitor on his wrist pulled out. "Oooor, I could do it the easy way and look at the GPS. Sandy, Twist, do we go pick up Scoop? Or go with the other Autobots first?"
Broadside shook his head. "I failed my geography, Scoop. Modern, post-Quintian geography, at least. Any chance you could be more, um, descriptive?"
Broadside looked around the city, and snorted. "Near the smoldering flames? Near more smoldering flames? East of the evil red Hate Plague cloudkill zone?" Broadside shrugged as he raised his other hand and a monitor on his wrist pulled out. "Oooor, I could do it the easy way and look at the GPS. Sandy, Twist, do we go pick up Scoop? Or go with the other Autobots first?"
Constructicon Field Hospital
Highbrow dropped the Shell to the ground near the Constructicons, the cables reeling back to his alt-mode. Highbrow transformed and looked out at those gathered. "The shell is finally here. How close are we to setting up the shield array, both for the field hospital as well as the surrounding area?
As an afterthought, he added "Has there been any noticeable change in Topspin's condition?"
-------------------
Thrust would have grinned if he had been in his robot form. As it was, on Starscream's orders, he took off into the sky and looked for the Autobot's air squadron. It was an ideal place to both gather info and get lost in for a while.
As an afterthought, he added "Has there been any noticeable change in Topspin's condition?"
-------------------
Thrust would have grinned if he had been in his robot form. As it was, on Starscream's orders, he took off into the sky and looked for the Autobot's air squadron. It was an ideal place to both gather info and get lost in for a while.
No Reserves, No Retreats, and No Regrets!!!
Imperial Landing Zone
Treds grinned as Calbi-Yu opened fire on his postition. "This just keeps getting better and better" he laughed under his breath. Suddenly his built in jetpack sprouted out and he flew up to where the side of the ship was, evading fire on his way up.
"Get ready." Treds spoke those words before uploading his arsenaal at the ship, inculding his center caonnon, clearly attempting to break in. One of Warpath blasts then slammed into his back and he was sent carrening down. "Slagit" he grunted as fire at the Autobot
__________________________________
Bad Boy spotted the weak job the Acid did to the Sentinel. "Guess its time Plan B then" he muttered as he started it by flying towards the Mirror Manister. He then flipped out his Gaulting guns as he flew to where he heading.
The cockpit.
Protihexian-Wasteland Border. Trion
Mindset drove towards the Trion, the heavy artillery on his back putting strain on him.
Treds grinned as Calbi-Yu opened fire on his postition. "This just keeps getting better and better" he laughed under his breath. Suddenly his built in jetpack sprouted out and he flew up to where the side of the ship was, evading fire on his way up.
"Get ready." Treds spoke those words before uploading his arsenaal at the ship, inculding his center caonnon, clearly attempting to break in. One of Warpath blasts then slammed into his back and he was sent carrening down. "Slagit" he grunted as fire at the Autobot
__________________________________
Bad Boy spotted the weak job the Acid did to the Sentinel. "Guess its time Plan B then" he muttered as he started it by flying towards the Mirror Manister. He then flipped out his Gaulting guns as he flew to where he heading.
The cockpit.
Protihexian-Wasteland Border. Trion
Mindset drove towards the Trion, the heavy artillery on his back putting strain on him.
Hate Plague Danger Zone
This was not part of the plan. The Terrorcons were not supposed to still be remaining in this particular area. With the additional support of Menasor and Ruination, Abominus should have annihilated the Thunderwing shell relatively easily and moved along, stalking the battlefield for more victims to assuage his overwhelming fuel-lust.
The shell had indeed been defeated, but the result implied otherwise.
Now there was a new battle to win. One where victory was the ultimate reward, and possibly the only reward. One against an opponent who denied the Terrorcons the application of their remarkable physical strength. One where success bordered on the realm of fantasy.
Even though their enemy was now the Hate Plague and those infected by it, it had barely plundered the copious supply of courage each Terrorcon possessed. Physical combat might have been out of the equation but they were still determined to crush anyone who confronted them, including infected Transformers. A measly plague wasn't going to stop them from having a merry time causing staggering amounts of chaos and devastation.
So they carried on as if nothing had ever happened—as best they could. Mangling, biting, ripping, tearing: all were temporarily unavailable. Blasting, it seemed, was the next greatest option.
Levelling their weapons at Breakdown and Wildrider, Hun-Grrr, Blot and Sinnertwin fired upon the Stunticons, a potent blend of grenades, sonic blasts and corrosive liquids hurling directly towards them.
This was not part of the plan. The Terrorcons were not supposed to still be remaining in this particular area. With the additional support of Menasor and Ruination, Abominus should have annihilated the Thunderwing shell relatively easily and moved along, stalking the battlefield for more victims to assuage his overwhelming fuel-lust.
The shell had indeed been defeated, but the result implied otherwise.
Now there was a new battle to win. One where victory was the ultimate reward, and possibly the only reward. One against an opponent who denied the Terrorcons the application of their remarkable physical strength. One where success bordered on the realm of fantasy.
Even though their enemy was now the Hate Plague and those infected by it, it had barely plundered the copious supply of courage each Terrorcon possessed. Physical combat might have been out of the equation but they were still determined to crush anyone who confronted them, including infected Transformers. A measly plague wasn't going to stop them from having a merry time causing staggering amounts of chaos and devastation.
So they carried on as if nothing had ever happened—as best they could. Mangling, biting, ripping, tearing: all were temporarily unavailable. Blasting, it seemed, was the next greatest option.
Levelling their weapons at Breakdown and Wildrider, Hun-Grrr, Blot and Sinnertwin fired upon the Stunticons, a potent blend of grenades, sonic blasts and corrosive liquids hurling directly towards them.
Constructicon Field Hospital
Hook looked outside. "For Primus's sake, Long Haul, execute your function and move that shell into this facility. What were you waiting for?"
"That." Long Haul said, as he trudged out and dragged the Thunderwing shell that Highbrow had delivered into the field hospital.
"Topspin? The blue and white Autobot?" Hook turned to Highbrow. "Doctor Gravel was working on him. I believe he would be able to give you a more accurate status report on your comrade than we could."
_________________________
Imperial Landing Zone
"A tank with a jet? I've got to get me one of those. WHOOSH!" Warpath said. Of course, being a practical being, Warpath merely switched shells into anti-aircraft ones, and began tracking Treds, sending those shells on the Imperial's way before he hit something important in the Calabi-Yau.
The Autobot snorted as Treds fell out of the sky, and kept tracking him, opening fire all the while. His secondary weapons, machineguns, flipped out and joined in.
_________________________
Pyro and Buzzard charged each other. Pyro hunched over and bowled over Buzzard, slamming onto the Imperial's stomach and sending him careening aside.
Drift leapt into the air, and slashed at the large, burly Imperial with his blades, which cut onto the Imperial's shoulder. Buzzard plucked Drift out of the air and slammed him to the ground, before kicking the Autobot aside for good measure. Drift tumbled through the ground.
Before Buzzard could fire again, Pyro charged the Imperial, raising his pulse rifle and launching a stream of laser pulses onto Buzzard's frame.
Buzzard grunted as the blasts shaved off chunks of his chest, but he lashed out with his leg with more speed than Pyro believed the bulky Decepticon could muster, hitting Pyro's torso with a sickening crunch. Glass and red metal flew everywhere as Pyro stumbled backwards.
"Pitiful. Is there none that could stand against the spawn of Stalker?" Buzzard growled. Taking a leaf out of the late Stalker's book, Buzzard flipped out a vial full of the Syk drug, and injected it into himself. "I'm just getting started!"
A blade slammed onto Buzzard's left shoulder, cutting deep into the Imperial.
"So are we." Drift said, drawing another blade from the sheath on his hip.
_________________________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
The sonic blast slammed onto the ground near Breakdown, flipping the as-of-then uninfected Stunticon into the air. Screaming incoherently, Breakdown transformed and ducked into the ruins of the building.
Everything was after him! Plants tiny little bugs insects a red fog even the air is after him Motormaster Wildrider the Hate Plague Drag Strip Dead End no one that he could trust no one no one no one unknown enemies shooting sonic blasts from nowhere damn it damn it damn it
Breakdown screamed, and his machinery-destroying vibration abilities screamed with him.
Around the building Breakdown was hiding in, the Scraplets that were following him fell apart due to the vibrations.
_________________________
Wildrider grunted as a grenade blew up near him, then a stream of corrosive liquid slammed onto his chest.
He turned around to see his assailants. Hun-Grrr, Sinnertwin and Blot. The Terrorcons. Wildrider growled. He never liked the Terrorcons anyway. "I'm going to murderkill the lot of you primitive Predacon rejects!"
Wildrider pulled out his scattershot gun, aimed it at the Terrorcons and opened fire, sending an erratic flurry of laser beams at them. Against reason, Wildrider charged the Terrorcons, intent on battling them hand-to-hand. If he was not infected by the Hate Plague...
Aw, hell, who are we kidding? He'd still charge the Terrorcons.
Hook looked outside. "For Primus's sake, Long Haul, execute your function and move that shell into this facility. What were you waiting for?"
"That." Long Haul said, as he trudged out and dragged the Thunderwing shell that Highbrow had delivered into the field hospital.
"Topspin? The blue and white Autobot?" Hook turned to Highbrow. "Doctor Gravel was working on him. I believe he would be able to give you a more accurate status report on your comrade than we could."
_________________________
Imperial Landing Zone
"A tank with a jet? I've got to get me one of those. WHOOSH!" Warpath said. Of course, being a practical being, Warpath merely switched shells into anti-aircraft ones, and began tracking Treds, sending those shells on the Imperial's way before he hit something important in the Calabi-Yau.
The Autobot snorted as Treds fell out of the sky, and kept tracking him, opening fire all the while. His secondary weapons, machineguns, flipped out and joined in.
_________________________
Pyro and Buzzard charged each other. Pyro hunched over and bowled over Buzzard, slamming onto the Imperial's stomach and sending him careening aside.
Drift leapt into the air, and slashed at the large, burly Imperial with his blades, which cut onto the Imperial's shoulder. Buzzard plucked Drift out of the air and slammed him to the ground, before kicking the Autobot aside for good measure. Drift tumbled through the ground.
Before Buzzard could fire again, Pyro charged the Imperial, raising his pulse rifle and launching a stream of laser pulses onto Buzzard's frame.
Buzzard grunted as the blasts shaved off chunks of his chest, but he lashed out with his leg with more speed than Pyro believed the bulky Decepticon could muster, hitting Pyro's torso with a sickening crunch. Glass and red metal flew everywhere as Pyro stumbled backwards.
"Pitiful. Is there none that could stand against the spawn of Stalker?" Buzzard growled. Taking a leaf out of the late Stalker's book, Buzzard flipped out a vial full of the Syk drug, and injected it into himself. "I'm just getting started!"
A blade slammed onto Buzzard's left shoulder, cutting deep into the Imperial.
"So are we." Drift said, drawing another blade from the sheath on his hip.
_________________________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
The sonic blast slammed onto the ground near Breakdown, flipping the as-of-then uninfected Stunticon into the air. Screaming incoherently, Breakdown transformed and ducked into the ruins of the building.
Everything was after him! Plants tiny little bugs insects a red fog even the air is after him Motormaster Wildrider the Hate Plague Drag Strip Dead End no one that he could trust no one no one no one unknown enemies shooting sonic blasts from nowhere damn it damn it damn it
Breakdown screamed, and his machinery-destroying vibration abilities screamed with him.
Around the building Breakdown was hiding in, the Scraplets that were following him fell apart due to the vibrations.
_________________________
Wildrider grunted as a grenade blew up near him, then a stream of corrosive liquid slammed onto his chest.
He turned around to see his assailants. Hun-Grrr, Sinnertwin and Blot. The Terrorcons. Wildrider growled. He never liked the Terrorcons anyway. "I'm going to murderkill the lot of you primitive Predacon rejects!"
Wildrider pulled out his scattershot gun, aimed it at the Terrorcons and opened fire, sending an erratic flurry of laser beams at them. Against reason, Wildrider charged the Terrorcons, intent on battling them hand-to-hand. If he was not infected by the Hate Plague...
Aw, hell, who are we kidding? He'd still charge the Terrorcons.
-
optimusskids
- Protoform
- Posts: 6981
- Joined: Mon Dec 27, 2004 11:24 am
- Location: UK
Constructicon Field Hospital
Topspin groaned as he came out of stasis-lock. "How do I feel?" He replied to Gravel, laughing a little bit through the pain. "I feel like Motor Master just tried to flatten me." He sat up and looked down at his injuries. "Beats stasis lock though. Internal repair systems should finish up the rest. Thanks." He said swinging his feet off the make-shift gurney. "What's the situation?" He asked, not caring who answered the question.
No Reserves, No Retreats, and No Regrets!!!
Hate Plague Danger Zone
Well, this was certainly an interesting development. Breakdown had not contracted the Hate Plague. Yet. If more time was sanctioned, and nobody came to his aid, he was to be regarded as a casualty. It was as simple as that.
Not the slightest shred of consideration for Breakdown crossed their expressions, could be detected in their body language. The Terrorcons cared nothing for any of their fellow Decepticons. Unless one was as ruthless as they were, then maybe they shared a little something in common, but those individuals were few and far between. Besides, “friends” were not high on their list of priorities.
They ignored the paranoid Stunticon, leaving him to decided whether fate or survival was the more alluring option to him.
What they couldn't ignore, however, were the dozen or so laser beams that flew at them like energon draining leeches desperately seeking new hosts. Sinnertwin and Rippersnapper were the only Terrorcons struck by the beams. Exceptional durability shielded them from the worst of the blasts, but they still left a lingering sting.
They howled, fury pushing the hideous sounds right out of their vocalisers. Transforming to their respective monster forms, they mirrored Wildrider's actions and initiated a charge of their own. Hate Plague or not, Sinnertwin and Rippersnapper resolved to kill Wildrider no matter what.
Well, this was certainly an interesting development. Breakdown had not contracted the Hate Plague. Yet. If more time was sanctioned, and nobody came to his aid, he was to be regarded as a casualty. It was as simple as that.
Not the slightest shred of consideration for Breakdown crossed their expressions, could be detected in their body language. The Terrorcons cared nothing for any of their fellow Decepticons. Unless one was as ruthless as they were, then maybe they shared a little something in common, but those individuals were few and far between. Besides, “friends” were not high on their list of priorities.
They ignored the paranoid Stunticon, leaving him to decided whether fate or survival was the more alluring option to him.
What they couldn't ignore, however, were the dozen or so laser beams that flew at them like energon draining leeches desperately seeking new hosts. Sinnertwin and Rippersnapper were the only Terrorcons struck by the beams. Exceptional durability shielded them from the worst of the blasts, but they still left a lingering sting.
They howled, fury pushing the hideous sounds right out of their vocalisers. Transforming to their respective monster forms, they mirrored Wildrider's actions and initiated a charge of their own. Hate Plague or not, Sinnertwin and Rippersnapper resolved to kill Wildrider no matter what.
Constructicon Hospital
Scrapper carefully dug his probes into Sandstorm's head as Shuttle Gunner paced nervously not far away. The Battle Gaia shuttle was doing everything he could to stay calm, but emotions like this -- emotions at all -- were new to him.
Maybe Sandstorm isn't the only one who was damaged by the feedback after all, he thought darkly.
_______________________________________
Nightstick snorted. "They won't," he told Long Haul. "Trust me. We're not going to win this fight with technology, silly."
_______________________________________
Battlefield
Sandstorm scoffed good-naturedly. "Pfft, sounds like you're just trying to defend being a wuss, Broadside. At least I'm not afraid to stick my neck out without bitching about it, unlike some people."
Twin Twist shrugged. "Killing stuff always works for me."
The Jumpstarter transformed to drill-tank mode and rolled off. Sandstorm joined him, converting to dune buggy mode and falling into line behind the more heavily-armoured vehicle.
When Scoop responded to their hail, Twin Twist scoffed. "Eh, he's barely a Wrecker. Been on the team, what, a few weeks?"
"Six years," Sandstorm corrected him.
"Exactly!" Twin Twist said. "Obviously we should be spending our time looking for people who matter, like Topspin and Springer."
Sandstorm groaned. "You're not too bright, you know that?" To Broadside he said, "I vote we grab Scoop before we do anything. We need every hand we can get."
_______________________________________
Hate Plague Danger zone
Dust Storm called out in pain as Sandstorm took off one of his wings, and he started to spiral down toward the ground and the Hate Plague-infested massed below.
Bootleg and Thunderflare, meanwhile, continued to fire on Sandstorm even as he lost altitude.
_______________________________________
Bluestreak climbed aboard Fortress Maximus eagerly.
"Never let it be said that I turned down a chance to get the hell out of Dodge," he told the Headmaster. "But where are we going, chief?"
_______________________________________
Overcast grinned. "Ooh, lightning!" The charge that the evil Skydive shot at him arced into the capacitors mounted on either side of his shuttle mode, then fired itself back at Skydive at twice the power it had had while incoming. "I like lightning!"
Gunbarrel dodged out of the way of the Imperial's shots, allowing Stratosphere to take the hit instead...except that the transwarp pulse was dissipated by the largest Aerialbot's heavy-duty shields.
"We come prepared," Skydive told his namesake. "Which reminds me...Skysickle and Thunderstick, do your thing."
The two young Aerialbots acknowledged him, then transformed into their respective flying weapon modes and opened fire. Thunderstick became a massive, robot-sized cyclone cannon, buffeting anything anything in his path with thousand mile per hour winds. Skysickle, meanwhile, fired out tendrils of monomolecular filaments that would home in on their target, constrict around it and slice it to little pieces.
"I'm not big on duels," Skydive clarified. "After all, what good is a commander if he doesn't know how to use his resources? And frankly, you're not worth my undivided attention."
_______________________________________
Snarl blew Deadlift up next, before Blurr had a chance to tackle him. His mass let him stay stable in spite of the speedy Autobot's blows, and he grinned. Then he took the sword that he held in his free hand and stabbed it at his ally's chest.
"Die, you annoying piece of scrap!"
_______________________________________
Ultra Magnus smiled grimly as the mangled Sixshot charged him. Holstering his lasers, he ducked under the sixchanger's lunge. When Sixshot passed over him the Autobot lashed out with both feet, trying to kick his Decepticon foe hard in the face.
_______________________________________
"Right here."
Rage smiled as he charged through the fumes, ignoring the sting as the acid rain and his own weapon slowly ate away at his armour. If the Hate Plague hadn't turned him red, it would have been obvious by now that his paint had been stripped off and his skin was pocked with uneven acid burns. Be that as it may, though, he completely ignored it all as he launched himself at Drag Strip sword-first.
"And incidentally, you're the coward."
_______________________________________
Imperial Landing Zone
"Yep," Drill Bit told Buckethead. "That's about the size of it. I--ah, hell!"
He tried to say more, but didn't get a chance before a Bumblebee-sized meteor smashed into him, crushing his torso and leaving the rest of him on the ground in a jumbled, ruined mess.
_______________________________________
Sideswipe laughed at Griffe's attempts to shoot him down. "Yeah...you kinda suck at this, buddy. You ever been in a fight before?"
Using his jetpack's vectored thrust nozzles, he slalomed around the the Imperial's cannonfire and returned the favour by firing a stream of magnesium flares at his foe.
"Maybe you should brighten up and surrender?"
_______________________________________
Artfire couldn't help but grin tightly as Hyena opened fire on him. Bringing Burnout to bear on the incoming projectile, he drew a bead on it and followed it for a couple seconds before firing, blowing the missile out of the sky with one shot from his partner's fireball cannon mode.
"Two can play that game," he said. He raised his empty right hand, which quickly disappeared into his wrist to be replaced by a missile of his own. The incendiary flare fired, trailing after Hyena as Artfire tried to get another space beam shot lined up.
Scrapper carefully dug his probes into Sandstorm's head as Shuttle Gunner paced nervously not far away. The Battle Gaia shuttle was doing everything he could to stay calm, but emotions like this -- emotions at all -- were new to him.
Maybe Sandstorm isn't the only one who was damaged by the feedback after all, he thought darkly.
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Nightstick snorted. "They won't," he told Long Haul. "Trust me. We're not going to win this fight with technology, silly."
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Battlefield
Sandstorm scoffed good-naturedly. "Pfft, sounds like you're just trying to defend being a wuss, Broadside. At least I'm not afraid to stick my neck out without bitching about it, unlike some people."
Twin Twist shrugged. "Killing stuff always works for me."
The Jumpstarter transformed to drill-tank mode and rolled off. Sandstorm joined him, converting to dune buggy mode and falling into line behind the more heavily-armoured vehicle.
When Scoop responded to their hail, Twin Twist scoffed. "Eh, he's barely a Wrecker. Been on the team, what, a few weeks?"
"Six years," Sandstorm corrected him.
"Exactly!" Twin Twist said. "Obviously we should be spending our time looking for people who matter, like Topspin and Springer."
Sandstorm groaned. "You're not too bright, you know that?" To Broadside he said, "I vote we grab Scoop before we do anything. We need every hand we can get."
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Hate Plague Danger zone
Dust Storm called out in pain as Sandstorm took off one of his wings, and he started to spiral down toward the ground and the Hate Plague-infested massed below.
Bootleg and Thunderflare, meanwhile, continued to fire on Sandstorm even as he lost altitude.
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Bluestreak climbed aboard Fortress Maximus eagerly.
"Never let it be said that I turned down a chance to get the hell out of Dodge," he told the Headmaster. "But where are we going, chief?"
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Overcast grinned. "Ooh, lightning!" The charge that the evil Skydive shot at him arced into the capacitors mounted on either side of his shuttle mode, then fired itself back at Skydive at twice the power it had had while incoming. "I like lightning!"
Gunbarrel dodged out of the way of the Imperial's shots, allowing Stratosphere to take the hit instead...except that the transwarp pulse was dissipated by the largest Aerialbot's heavy-duty shields.
"We come prepared," Skydive told his namesake. "Which reminds me...Skysickle and Thunderstick, do your thing."
The two young Aerialbots acknowledged him, then transformed into their respective flying weapon modes and opened fire. Thunderstick became a massive, robot-sized cyclone cannon, buffeting anything anything in his path with thousand mile per hour winds. Skysickle, meanwhile, fired out tendrils of monomolecular filaments that would home in on their target, constrict around it and slice it to little pieces.
"I'm not big on duels," Skydive clarified. "After all, what good is a commander if he doesn't know how to use his resources? And frankly, you're not worth my undivided attention."
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Snarl blew Deadlift up next, before Blurr had a chance to tackle him. His mass let him stay stable in spite of the speedy Autobot's blows, and he grinned. Then he took the sword that he held in his free hand and stabbed it at his ally's chest.
"Die, you annoying piece of scrap!"
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Ultra Magnus smiled grimly as the mangled Sixshot charged him. Holstering his lasers, he ducked under the sixchanger's lunge. When Sixshot passed over him the Autobot lashed out with both feet, trying to kick his Decepticon foe hard in the face.
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"Right here."
Rage smiled as he charged through the fumes, ignoring the sting as the acid rain and his own weapon slowly ate away at his armour. If the Hate Plague hadn't turned him red, it would have been obvious by now that his paint had been stripped off and his skin was pocked with uneven acid burns. Be that as it may, though, he completely ignored it all as he launched himself at Drag Strip sword-first.
"And incidentally, you're the coward."
_______________________________________
Imperial Landing Zone
"Yep," Drill Bit told Buckethead. "That's about the size of it. I--ah, hell!"
He tried to say more, but didn't get a chance before a Bumblebee-sized meteor smashed into him, crushing his torso and leaving the rest of him on the ground in a jumbled, ruined mess.
_______________________________________
Sideswipe laughed at Griffe's attempts to shoot him down. "Yeah...you kinda suck at this, buddy. You ever been in a fight before?"
Using his jetpack's vectored thrust nozzles, he slalomed around the the Imperial's cannonfire and returned the favour by firing a stream of magnesium flares at his foe.
"Maybe you should brighten up and surrender?"
_______________________________________
Artfire couldn't help but grin tightly as Hyena opened fire on him. Bringing Burnout to bear on the incoming projectile, he drew a bead on it and followed it for a couple seconds before firing, blowing the missile out of the sky with one shot from his partner's fireball cannon mode.
"Two can play that game," he said. He raised his empty right hand, which quickly disappeared into his wrist to be replaced by a missile of his own. The incendiary flare fired, trailing after Hyena as Artfire tried to get another space beam shot lined up.
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Bartmanhomer
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- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2007 2:59 pm