Transformers: Steel Reign

[rhoenix]

Taking careful aim at one of the lumbering tanks, Blindside's first shot went wide. Focusing on the movement of energon within his systems to calm himself, he took aim again, and missed the tank widely enough to almost hit another target on accident.

He began to feel somewhat frustrated after the fifth wide miss. Closing his eyes for a moment and focusing on the regular rhythm of energon that was his heartbeat until he felt calm once more, he took aim again, trying to change how he was aiming. With his next shot, it was a relatively near-miss compared to his previous five. At this, he smiled slightly, and worked more to refine his aim.

[General Havoc]

Hornet gulped, audibly as Breakout made his announcement, not because he suspected Deathstrike's loyalties, for the thought had not even occurred to him to do so, but instead because it meant that he was going to be taking direct orders from Deathstrike, who he was convinced hated him. He did not believe for a single instant that Deathstrike was proud of what he had done in defense of the humans, or impressed with his exploits in the air before that. Deathstrike had seemed all along to be about as impressed with him as he was of mildew, and he guessed that Deathstrike had said it to be sarcastic or something.

Still, there was nothing for it, and so Hornet slowly walked over to Breakout. "So um... does... that mean you're in charge of me too?" he asked. Not the most militarily-profound question, but Hornet clearly didn't mean any disrespect.

*----------------------------------------------------*

Wheeljack clicked his radio on. "Wheeljack to Breakout," he said. "Someone mentioned you were looking for me?"

[LadyTevar]

Military Discipline... how wonderful, Crimson thought with annoyance. Elita-1 had expected the girls to follow her orders, but the Fembots were never as uptight about things as the Warbots were. This was going to be ... fun.

When Breakout had called attention, Stryke had dropped his arm from around her, but Crimson had still felt Stryke stiffen over Deathstrike's new position as second-in-command. Old memories die hard, and old feuds harder.

"S'why we have a firing range, Firetrack." Overload rumbled to Blindside, using the old name

Wait ... what? Firetrack? As the unit she'd been introduced to as 'Blindside' talked to Overload, Crimson tried to match up the name to her memories.

It was not a flattering picture. Firetrack, when she'd met him, had been rude, brash, flashy, ... and determined to get one or more of the Fembots attracted to him. He'd been... well... he, HotRod, and Sunstreaker had all been bluntly annoying and the subject of a LOT of Fembot laughter and gossip.
Ok, Shadow'd liked him. She'd locked herself in her chambers for a day when Firetrack vanished. Odd how things worked out, since Shady was now flying for the Seekers..............

These thoughts kept Crimson occupied as she absently followed the squad to the firing range. The sound of weaponsfire blinked her out of it.

"Yes, you're Firetrack alright," Crimson muttered, watching the comedy of errors as Blindside attempted to aim and shoot. She called her pistol out of subspace, barely remembering that she'd never put the ion pistol back in time to catch it. She took a moment to dial both of them back to their low-powered training settings before stepping up to the line.

Tanks and Guardians? Well.. she couldn't do anything about them, as they were too well armored for her weapons to do much. Seekers and Casseticons? More her style. The MiGs and Humans, however... Nasty of Deathstrike to program those in.

The pistols whined, laser and ion shots alternating as the closest targets began to fall. Ion bolts never touched the human figures, as Crimson knew it would be a wasted shot. Ions hit metallics only: the MiGs, the flying Seekers, the Cassetticons.... Ravage got ravaged by laser and ion both. Nope, no leftover hard feelings there, none at all.

On the battlefield, roughly one in five of her shots had missed. Here in training, every one of her shots hit squarely. MiG and Humans fell in one shot. Seekers and Cassetticons were paralyzed by Ions, then the damaged parts hit again and again until the target was disabled, although that worked best on the Seekers in Alt-Mode. A couple tanks got hit by shots to the treads to disable them, though again Crimson did not have the power to destroy them. The shot that went down one tank's gunbarrel was pure luck. The Guardians were lumbering up when Crimson stepped away from the target line, freezing the program.

"Sorry, Deathstrike... that's where I transform and run like a cyberbunny," Crimson quipped. "I don't even think my grenades can hurt them."

[rhoenix]

"Sorry, Deathstrike... that's where I transform and run like a cyberbunny," Crimson quipped. "I don't even think my grenades can hurt them."

That comment startled Blindside out of his concentration at learning (badly) how to aim. Something in the fembot's voice sounded so very familiar. He backed away from the firing line, looking in the direction the voice had come from - and in an instant, it all came flooding back. He was surprised that he hadn't fully recognized her when she and the small, skipping Hornet had greeted him by the entrance.

His golden eyes brightening in surprise, he couldn't help but ask. He had to be sure. If he was right...then he had another apology to make. "Crimson? Are you the same one who was close friends with Elita-1 and the others?"

[SirNitram]

Overload pulled into the target area next, and the transformation would have a certain similarity to the upgraded MiGs, as the trailer formed a bulky main 'body', and Overload himself lifted onto the head, attaching smoothly. The ion 'pistol' was drawn, a gun the size of a rifle for most Autobots.

When the simulation restarted, he opened fire. He was not a terribly skilled marksman, which meant that the least maneuverable targets were his first choices. Tanks were the first to go down, as arcing electrical blasts ripped over their hulls. Next came Seekers in 'bot mode, bracketed before being brought down. The MiGs and flying Seekers proved hardest, evading his fire for costly seconds before shots finally tightened up and hit, dropping them down as engines flamed out.

Cassetticons and humans proved small targets, but a single blast always did the job. The humans, of course, had it worst; the heavy ion discharges literally seemed to electrocute them, but the old Autobot never hesitated. "It'd be mildly easier if they looked like they had SS uniforms." Was a muttered comment, probably not understood by the others.

The Guardians had Overload forced to back up. Ion bolts hit joints with almost no effect, and the hauler scowled. They were targets he couldn't miss, but his sidearm simply wasn't enough to bring them down. "Unless this training allows for switching modes, that's my limit." He admitted after a few failed attempts.

[LadyTevar]

His golden eyes brightening in surprise, he couldn't help but ask. He had to be sure. If he was right...then he had another apology to make. "Crimson? Are you the same one who was close friends with Elita-1 and the others?"

"That depends," Crimson answered, resetting her pistols back to full power so she'd not forget. "Are you the same Firetrack who rolled himself onto his roof trying to make a turn on two wheels?"

[rhoenix]

"That depends," Crimson answered, resetting her pistols back to full power so she'd not forget. "Are you the same Firetrack who rolled himself onto his roof trying to make a turn on two wheels?"

Blindside winced slightly, his optics closed for a moment. Oh yes, if she remembered that, then she was definitely the same one. "Yes, that was me, and that answers my question."

Shaking his head with a rueful smile, he looked back at her. "In that case, I would like to make an overdue apology for how I acted then. I acted like a complete ass to you, and the others of Elita-1's group, and I'm sorry."

[LadyTevar]

Crimson twirled her laser pistol, smirking slightly. "Wow.. now if only we can get Roddy to apologize like that...." The pistol vanished into subspace as she cocked her head and gave Blindside a wicked grin. "Don't worry, you and he gave us Fembots -plenty- to talk about after that little show." Talk, gossip, snigger ... they'd been the Topic of the SolarCycle.

But enough embarrassing the new guy. "New format, new chances, Blindside," she added. "You seem to have calmed down a bit ... unlike some."

Overload's new transformation made her look up... and up... and up. "Yeah... new altform, but you still find a way to get huge."

[SirNitram]

"You don't think I earned my pit fighting reputation by crawling up people's legs, do you?" Overload laughed. "Strength is only useful with some leverage to use it."

[rhoenix]

"Don't worry, you and he gave us Fembots -plenty- to talk about after that little show."

At this, Blindside chuckled and shook his head. "And it wasn't the only time, I'm sure."

"New format, new chances, Blindside," she added. "You seem to have calmed down a bit ... unlike some."

Nodding in acceptance, he replied. "Thank you. Many years of being alone with nothing but my memories, and my teacher helped that."

At this, he looked at the paused holographic training area, smirked, and looked back. "I know I need to drastically improve my aim, but the temptation to just pounce on the targets instead is almost overwhelming. Ah, well - if Breakout wishes to have my help in shooting, I'd better work on actually hitting the target."

He reset the training rifle, and then looked back at Crimson. "It is good to see you again, Crimson."

After this, he walked back to the now-reset firing range, and again, aimed for the slowest, lumbering targets. He suppressed a grin as he actually managed to hit one after five missed shots, and kept refining his admittedly terrible aim, shot by shot.

[Charon]

Shellshock heard fire and stepped into the firing range, reflexively ducking even though he didn't quite need to. "Didn't Breakout give you 4 megacycles? Or are you three trying to brush up on your shots before he grills us?"

Shellshock stepped to the side, not coming near the area where the projections were coming up yet. He watched Blindside try and fail miserably at shooting, and chuckled some.

[LadyTevar]

Crimson, having proved to herself that she was still the best, walked over to join Shellshock. "Somethings never change," she said quietly under the noise of the weaponsfire. "FireTrack couldn't hit the broad side of a warehouse either."

[rhoenix]

"Didn't Breakout give you 4 megacycles? Or are you three trying to brush up on your shots before he grills us?"

Hearing Shellshock's chuckle afterward, Blindside looked up from his post to give a wry smile back to him. "I cannot speak for the others, but I'm here because my aim is...awful."

Looking a bit embarrassed, he added a bit more quietly. "I partially overwrote my targetting programs long ago, when I was Firetrack. Trying to recreate them now is difficult, but I'm making progress."

At this, he knelt back down, and took five more careful shots at the same tank, one of which actually grazed his target instead of missing.

[Charon]

Shellshock nodded some to Crimson's comment, though it did not change his own opinion on Blindside one way or another, before stepping forward.

"You're not compensating for the kick, plus you're squeezing the trigger, among a thousand other problems. Squeezing makes the gun twitch. Get to a prone position, we'll start with the basics. Guns aren't at all like the weapons you've probably been using since you started mettalikato. They need to be sturdy and unmoved, these are not graceful weapons."

[General Havoc]

Reasonably clueless as to what was to be expected of him (not an uncommon occurrence), Hornet guessed that he was supposed to take a turn on the firing range along with everyone else. Actually he wasn't totally sure about that, but it looked fun, like one of those arcade games the humans played and that he was too big for. He had stood by and cheered on everyone else as they blasted down waves of targets, his chirpy voice mingling with the sounds of gunshots and energy weapons. When finally his turn came, he eagerly hopped into position. He couldn't use his missiles on the course of course, as he only had four, and they would have likely damaged the projectors, but his lasers would do for now.

The simulation started, and Hornet raised his wings at the advancing waves of enemies. Young and inexperienced though he was, Hornet had a computer for a brain, and an extremely advanced aerialbot targeting package overlaid on his optics. Moreover, Hornet's lasers were based not around accuracy so much as volume of fire. His usual technique was to blanket a target in shots, such that something would take effect.

The Seekers darted around his lasers, but lasers definitionally moved at the speed of light, and showers of sparks indicated where Hornet had struck them. 99 hits out of 100 did nothing, barely gouging the paint of the heavy Decepticon armor, but every so often a shot would land by pure chance on an exposed circuit or joint. One seeker's engine caught fire and exploded in a rather spectacular blast of holographic light, and Hornet cheered as he continued lashing back and forth with the lasers, scoring no more kills, but damaging several more seekers. His weapons were low enough in power that overheating was not an issue, and he could keep up a fairly solid stream for several minutes.

The tanks were a lost cause, to say nothing of the guardian robots. Hornet had about as much chance of harming either with frontal strikes as he did of altering the rotation of the earth through an act of will. Accordingly he simply ignored them, concentrating more on the targets he could hurt. A single tank made the mistake of turning broadside to him to avoid the simulated wreckage of the seeker he had downed, and he managed to blow off one of its treads with a barrage of laser strikes to the side, and immobilize it. That however was the best he could do.

The Chinese MiGs, on the other hand, were slaughtered wholesale, indeed so effectively did Hornet cut through them that he seemed to have surprised even himself. Fast and mobile though they were, they were still barely a fraction of a full scale Transformer's speed, and Hornet had the calculating power of an intercontinental war room in his head to ensure that his targeting was on-point, something any Transformer could have done certainly, but paired with his type of weapon, the result was apocalyptic. His lasers had the rate of fire of a Phalanx air defense system, only his had unlimited munitions that hit just as hard as the DU-shells of the humans gatling weapons, and every single bolt of green energy that struck one of the MiGs tore a foot-wide hole straight through the enemy jet. At one point, no fewer than seven of them were falling out of the air at the same time, and those few that survived the rain of green fire long enough to launch munitions were blotted out of the sky along with their obsolete missiles like mosquitoes struck with a flyswatter.

When the last plane had fallen, and the simulation was over, Hornet beamingly stepped away from the firing post, having generated, if not an amazing score, at least a very competitive one. Granted, this was not reality, and he had nothing to fear from the enemy in it, but it still felt good for once to do as well as the others. A more critical eye might have noticed however, that despite the swarms of human infantry present in the simulation, infantry that were almost totally unarmored and who could have been devastated by a single burst of Hornet's lasers, Hornet had not fired one single shot at or even near the "enemy" humans, not even when they had begun opening fire on him.

But then, Hornet had made his feelings on shooting at humans fairly clear, simulation or not.

[rhoenix]

"You're not compensating for the kick, plus you're squeezing the trigger, among a thousand other problems. Squeezing makes the gun twitch. Get to a prone position, we'll start with the basics. Guns aren't at all like the weapons you've probably been using since you started mettalikato. They need to be sturdy and unmoved, these are not graceful weapons."

Nodding at this, Blindside followed Shellshock's advice, and lay prone, as much as a few of his instincts gained from his training told him this was a terrible idea. He carefully braced the butt of the rifle against his shoulder, as this seemed to be the best way to hold it sturdy.

Blindside noticed an immediate improvement, which made him grin. He was actually hitting the target he was aiming for twice out of five shots now, and his misses were much less wide.

"Thank you, Shellshock," he said, without taking his eyes off his target, lining up for his next shot. "Do you have any other advice?"

[Charon]

Shellshock snorted. "Don't get cocky. Now see that furthest tank from us? Hit the turret. Use your sight, keep the gun still, wait for the right moment, and fire. Maybe once you can do this I'll let you get up."

[LadyTevar]

Crimson had a little advice for Blindside as well. "Don't squeeze the trigger. Stroke it lightly, just enough pressure to move it."

[rhoenix]

Shellshock snorted. "Don't get cocky. Now see that furthest tank from us? Hit the turret. Use your sight, keep the gun still, wait for the right moment, and fire. Maybe once you can do this I'll let you get up."

Blindside chuckled. "I've no reason to be cocky, I know my aim's pretty bad."

With that, he lined up his sights with the furthest tank from them, far off in the distance. Remembering what he'd learned about lining up the shot, be began to adjust his aim, when Crimson spoke up.

"Don't squeeze the trigger. Stroke it lightly, just enough pressure to move it."

The part of Blindside that still had his old sense of humor made him smirk, but he listened to the advice, aiming carefully for the tank first to get the distance right. The shot hit one of the tracks, which made him smile, even though he had been trying to hit the main body of the tank.

Adjusting his aim again, he braced for the shot more carefully, and squeezed the trigger more gently this time. It missed the turret of the tank, but not by much.

It took him a few minutes, and about another six shots before he managed a grazing shot on the turret of the tank, and another four before he hit it squarely. At this, he smiled with relief.

[B4UTRUST]

Slipstream had recovered sufficently to move himself off the table. He reminded himself never to do that little stunt again, it did not top his list of fun and wholesome activities productive in the continuation of his life.

Leaving the repair bay he began his search for Prime to debrief him on what he had found. It needed to be done, and soon, he thought.

[Dark Silver]

It so happened, Optimus was on his way to find Slipstream when the Autobot left the repair bay. His schedual was busy, things never slowed down, the war continued no matter what, and Optimus was intent on handling as much of it as he could, to oversee as much as possible, even if he was at the Ark.

"Slipstream," Optimus spoke in that deep voice as the aerial bot appeared, "We need to talk."

[B4UTRUST]

Slipstream came to a complete stop, head snapping forward at Optimus' voice. He had been poking his head into every room he could find in his search for Prime. Sadly, he had not found Prime. And he discovered that there was a distinct lack of attractive Fembots on the Ark. And Sunstreaker didn't like having his wax job interupted. Of course he was still trying to figure out why one would apply wax in such an ineffecient manner. His brother should really know better by now after all those years.

"Sir," he cried out when he saw Optimus. "I was just trying to find you!"

[Dark Silver]

"I know. I need to know what occurred on your scouting mission."

Prime walked next to Slipstream, as he guided the flier to a briefing room.

[B4UTRUST]

"I found the cause of the problem. After I took off from the battle site I flew east through the country called Canada. Once I hit the east coast of the continent I turned south and continued my sweep there. On one of the sweeps I passed over the city-state called New York. I started picking up readings from a Cybertronian of large scale. After flying over I found out why the signal was so large.

"I'm not sure what it is or who it is but there's a giant cityformer in the middle of the city-state. It's in fortress mode and defending itself very well. I haven't seen that many guns pointed my way since the battle of Valvolux! To be honest, Optimus, I'm not sure how to even begin planning to assault that thing. It's sensor systems are definatly high-end and its weapons systems are no slouch either. I don't think our gestaults could tangle with this one for long."

[Dark Silver]

Prime listened to Slipstream's report, nodded, and recorded it in his memory tracks. It seemed like the worst estimates TELETRAN-1 had given had been grossly undercalculated.

"Thank you Slipstream.." Prime said, his voice grave as he pondered this, "Your going to be reassigned to Battle Squad Ico, under command of Breakout. You will want to report to him, I've placed the squad on 72 megacycle R&R."

Prime placed his hand on Slipstream's shoulder, before dismissing the flier.