Transformers: Steel Reign

[rhoenix]

Quickly laying on his front as he had recently learned, Blindside braced his training rifle against his left shoulder, readying himself. To calm himself, he listened to his own energon heartbeat, coursing through all parts of his system for a few microseconds.

His golden optics lit up, and he readied his targeting reticle. "Alright Deathstrike, I'm ready."

The target groups and formations varied, and very quickly he struggled to keep up. Managing to keep calm though, he managed to hit a few more targets than he missed, but not many. He simply concentrated on hitting his targets, and didn't bother to go for difficult shots - he had a hard enough time hitting as it was. To his surprise, he managed to hit each type of target at least once, but he hit the tanks, Terran Headmaster MiG's, Terran ground troops, and Casseticons more often than the Seekers.

Soon enough, and yet it seemed like not long enough, it was over. Checking the displays, he saw his hit percentage in plain view: 26%.

Upon seeing that, Blindside actually felt pleased. It was far better than he'd thought.

[B4UTRUST]

Any belief that this might have worked or been decent flew out the window about a microsecond after who could only be Breakout came through the door. With a contrived speech like that, this bot was borderline nuts. Slipstream absently wondered how long it had taken to think up that inspiring little harangue.

At least, he thought to himself, Deathstrike might be reasonable to work with. If not, he could request transfer.

[SirNitram]

"Perhaps we should get us close-combat 'bots out of the way before we feel even worse compared to our milspec compatriots." Overload commented simply. "But whenever you're ready for the next one, I should get it out of the way."

[rhoenix]

"Perhaps we should get us close-combat 'bots out of the way before we feel even worse compared to our milspec compatriots." Overload commented simply.

"That was my plan," Blindside said, as he set the training rifle he was using back on it's rack, and then walking to sit cross-legged toward the back of the room.

[General Havoc]

Hornet dutifully repeated his demonstration from before, this time with the others in attendance. As before, the human MiGs and more fragile war machines were flayed alive by his hosepipe of waspish, green projectiles, torn out of the sky as though by the hand of some angry god. As before, the Seekers proved much harder to track, and Hornet barely winged two of them, the others twisting and avoiding most major damage. As before, the guardians and tanks proved completely beyond Hornet's capacity to hurt with his lightest weapons from the ground, and he was forced to settle for stripping away their support.

As before, the human infantry could have been cut down in droves by sprays of green energy bolts, but Hornet did not direct one shot their way.

[LadyTevar]

"Not bad, Hornet," Crimson said as she passed the little bot on her way to the line for her test. Once again, she pulled both ion and laser pistol from subspace, taking a moment to dial down the power on both to training levels.

Her head tilted, nodding to Deathstrike, and then she stepped to the line.

As before, the shots were precise and lethal to the targets. Against the humans, it was one shot took out two or more. Against the MiGs, one shot kill. The Cassetticons and tanks were a little tougher, but even the Seekers she targeted did not go away unscathed.

When Crimson stepped off the line, 100% of her shots had hit their target, as the Fembot calmly sent her pistols back to subspace, leaving them low-powered for the next drill.

[Dark Silver]

(GM Discretion: I'm saying about twelve hours have passed sinced the return from Canada - considering you all went for repairs, and Overload got a new body and trailer built for him....)

I awaken.

My optic sensors remain offline for the moment, as my internal diagnostic program run a test of my nonvolatile memory. It takes but a fraction of a second as my Cybertronian Positronic relays run the simple diagnostic routine through my Cybernetic cerebral circuitry.

One at a time, my systems begin to awaken from the dark slumber of repair stasis, each checksum returned in time with the query sent by my diagnostic nodes and the repair computer directing the CR Chamber.

My optics are the last to come alive, first a still dark world, reports of system status and power reserves scroll in the corner of my left optic, as my audio receivers deliver the pop-hiss of the nano-repair vestibule retracting from my chest, and sliding back into the chamber walls.

A growl softly, as the CR chamber opens silently, a roll cloud of gas, measuring 100 degree Kelvin, disperses into the humid air of the repair chamber. Two of the repair vestubiles are not quick enough in their work, and as my left hand gripes them, tearing them from my chest plate. My optics are online now, the world tinted in a faint red still, as color correction programs go into work. I feel the mech fluid flowing through my hydrolic systems lubricating and cooling. The fuel pump in my torso sending the life giving liquid energy into my laser core, and out to the needed systems.

"Report," I speak, my voice is raspy, not unlike those pathetic flesh-creatures when they are out of breath. It is a pleasing sound to my audio receptors, the same as it always has, a voice which has but the fear of the Pit into countless Mechanoids and Fleshlings.

I walk from my personal CR Chamber, easily ascending the dais to my command throne.

Prime escaped my clutched, he placed me into the extended Stasis Lock which resulted in my subordinates to squabble and let the Autobots obtain a important victory.

Soundwave steps from the shadows as I take my place, the cybernetic intercoupling extended from the chair, and inserting into the dataport that becomes revealed at the base of my head unit - hidden by a cleverly disguised armor plate. His words match what I have learned during my slumber - the data uploaded into my positronic data-processing net paint a unflattering picture.

"Bring me Starscream....."

After all, I must congratulate the cyberslug....once again, he's done exactly as required of him.


----------------------


The Autobot which flew through the towers of Trypticon's City-form was gone. Hours ago, really, and despite sending out recon drones, scout'cons and even Blackout himself, Chimera could find no trace of Autobot activity.

In fact, it seemed as if the entire area of the continent in a 500 mile radius pulled back and away from the firepower he wielded.

Chimera smirked beneath the face mask as he continued to walk the halls of the sprawling Decepticon City. Trypticon was a pure marvel of Decepticon engineering - even if his programming wasn't quiet right. Large scale Cybertronian's, especially when not programmed correctly, always seemed to be more...what was the word...instinctual than the smaller models. There was some theory, that upscaling the standard Cyberonian Cerebral units left a lag in data transfer. Of course, in combat, that was corrected by a advanced heuristics model that allowed them to react as quickly - and sometimes quicker - than their miniscule counterparts.

Trypticon was the logical extension of the large scale Transformers left behind on Cybertron, their grand hulks long ago burned out from combat, their lasercores forever silenced, and what was left of their hulks - what hadn't been scavenged for resources by both the Autobots and Decepticons, left rusting in the acid rains which periodically swept the planetary surface. Larger than any transformer before him, more heavily armed - and his energy reserves would allow him extended operations. Chimera was pleased with the work.

Chimera patted the hull of Trypticon as he rounded a corner, and continued onto the command center - there was still many refinements in Trypticon's personality matrix to do, not to mention work on the targetting subroutines.....

[Cynical Cat]

Deathstrike consulted his data logs. The Autobots he was assigned to train were not unskilled, but they were undisciplined without even fear of a powerful leader's wrath to drive them together. It was not a coincidence that the Decepticons were defined by teams: Seekers, Casseticons, Combaticons and so on. Teams worked together to achieve a common goal. The Autobots had a few of their own, but nothing that matched the Decepticon order of battle. They didn't even have a real air commander. It was no surprise that even with superior numbers that they lost.

Breakout understood the problem and Deathstrike would do his best to aid the war machine, but there were limits. Autobots could not be lead like Decepticons and the most martial members of the team, Slipstream and Stryke, were also among the most unreliable. He would need to discuss how to handle them with Breakout. The Decepticon method probably wouldn't be allowed.

In the mean time he could try to get those repairs. He headed back to Perceptor's lab.

[frigidmagi]

Crimson and Blindside would function as the scouts and infiltrators of the squad. Hopefully I wouldn't have to depend on Blindside until we were sure of him but hope is about as useful as a cracked transformation cog really.

With Shellshock, Strike, Overload and myself we had more ground firepower then some heavy interdiction units. Which was good, we would need every bit and be begging Primus for more if I was right.

My aircover was doubtful. I had more faith in a mech that had been a Con until recently did I did in Slipstream who was frankly a discipline problem looking to happen. Hornet was... Well he was Hornet and frankly not equipped mechanically or mentally for heavy combat.

I programed the obstacle course and sent a message to Blindside and Crimson, reminding them they were due for their training. Sneakiness was foreign to my programming but I knew enough to train it in others. Still... Who was it that said ask me for anything but time?

[rhoenix]

Blindside was standing in a wide stance on the top of the mountain the Ark had crashed into long ago, going through slow meditative movements as the sun rose. He received the radio signal from Breakout, and replied that he would be there shortly. Ending the movement set with a bow, he changed almost instantly into his wolf form, and descended the mountain with the same dizzying speed he had before.

Activating his map that shone in the upper-right corner of his bicameral vision, he followed it to the room indicated by Breakout as his training room for now.

Entering the room barely a cycle after receiving the summons, Blindside entered with his usual walk; near-silent, and with his hands clasped behind his back. "I am here and ready, Breakout."

[SirNitram]

Overload drew the heavy ion pistol, waiting for the targets to present himself. Then he calmly began to work, sighting and opening fire. Strictly speaking, like most who had never been reformated as warbots, Overload's accuracy was sorely lacking. It was a bit higher than Blindside, at least.

It was, however, clear he had applied himself. While he didn't reliably strike targets that moved fast, he could quickly bracket high-speed targets and keep them from using their great maneuverability without exposing themselves to his fire.

Also uniquely, he held no resistation in opening fire on the humans, nor the Guardian Robots. While the ion discharges electrocuted humans easily, Overload also had a clue how much damage he could do to the vast defenders, aiming for vital joints to try and seize them up for a few seconds.

"Forty percent. About normal." He reflected.

[Dark Silver]

The interruption with Deathstrike gave Perceptor the time he required to complete work on the Transwarp booster that was to be installed. Of course, utilizing such a device on a Cybertronian without extensive testing was considered dangerous - but Perceptor had been working on the science ever since Prime and the others left Cybertron all those millions of years ago.

It was only the fact he kept all the equations in his own magnificent Cybernetic Cerebral Core that Shockwave had not been able to acquire his work - thus pushing Decepticons Transwarp Technology ahead by millennia.


Perceptor closed the Trans-warp booster's control core, and sealed the minuscule metal box, placing a pressure-erase seal on it as a precaution - breaking the seal at the wrong atmospheric pressure would destroy the delicate equipment and circuit boards within.

By the time Deathstrike arrived, Perceptor had configured the navigational programs required.

[Cynical Cat]

"Is that it?" asked Deathstrike. "A fifty lightyear range transwarp drive in such a small package." There was awe in his voice. "I must admit to desiring the final series of replacements to bring me up to spec more, but I am a warrior first and foremost. The scientist within is in awe of your accomplishment."

[Dark Silver]

Perceptor looked up as he finished the final changes to the navigation subroutines, and nodded, "Indeed - the Transwarp Booster is the ultimate culmination of nearly 3,000,000 years of scientific research and planning - most of it spent attempting to hide the research from the like of Shockwave."

Perceptor touched the booster, almost revenantly, before turning to Deathstrike, "The device has been reduced in size by a factor of ten. The drive is primarily meant for tactical or emergency use, as it will drain your energy reserves severly with each corresponding application. Now, if you'll please lay upon the diagnostic table, I'll prepare to install the module."

[Cynical Cat]

Deathstrike laid down on the table. "Is it possible to use the drive for short range jumps with less strain on my energy reserves. My original design and equipment were based around the assumption of being able to make an FTL jump to the target and engage it in combat."

[Dark Silver]

"Of course, probability of tactical usage in relative short transwarp flights would have lower strains upon your fuel reserves."

Perceptor opened the armor of Deathstrike, accessing the former Decepticon's internal systems. He took his time, installing the transwarp booster, as the new navigational subroutines where uploaded via hardlink to Deathstrike's spatial nav-core.

It took nearly two hours for the install and calibrations to be completed, before Perceptor sealed Deathstrike once again, and disconnected the link.

"The booster is still experimental Deathstrike, if it is required to make adjustments or repairs, then you should come to me, instead of attempting to make the adjustments on your own.

[Cynical Cat]

"I'll keep that in mind," Deathstrike replied. "There is the matter of the final refurbishment of my energy transmission systems and endoskeleton." To say that Deathstrike was eager to regain his full combat abilities was to understate the matter considerably.

[Dark Silver]

"I will inform Hoist and Grapple, I am sure they will be eager to refurbish your remaining systems, as both fall more into their areas of expertise."

[Cynical Cat]

"Excellent," said Deathstrike. Whatever else you could say about Perceptor, he was extremely competent and professional in his work. "Please do so."

[Dark Silver]

Hoist and Grapple entered Perceptors last a few minutes after Perceptor made the call, while Deathstrike remained prone.

"Well, what do you think Hoist? His armor looks servicable enough..."

"You know Grapple," the Green Autobot Mechanic spoke, looking over Deathstrike, "His armor is still good...we need to apply a layer of DZ-41...maybe remold a few peices....."

The two Engineers went to work, removing peices of Deathstrike's armor, leaving the naked systems exposed, the one handed Grapple remolding certain pieces, then coating it with the mysterious substance of DZ-41. Hoist worked on updating and putting final fixes on Deathstrike's PTS systems and some minor working.

It was another 5 hours before they were completed, Deathstrike's armor shone as brillant as when it was new, certain portions of his anatomy seemed more rounded now, as if he was in updated styles.

"There we are, good as new - or as good as your going to get anyway!" Hoist said good naturedly, as he and Grapple moved off to go tend to other projects.

[LadyTevar]

((Since it seems like 5hours (or more?) have passed....))

Crimson was a little annoyed as she walked towards the training grounds. She had been enjoying a very private moment alone with Stryke when BreakOut's call ... no, COMMAND ... came in. If Stryke wasn't a MilBot and told her it was best she went, Crimson would have told BreakOut to shove it up his tailpipe.

Still, BreakOut was going to get an earful.

Better yet, Crimson should sic FoxHound on him. She'd been complaining about sharing HotRod all the time, let BreakOut deal with her. That thought was the reason for the very wicked smile on Crimson's face as she entered the training room.

"Crimson, reporting as ordered."

[frigidmagi]

I look at both Crimson and Blindside and I almost wonder what they're thinking. Most of the squads here hardly ever train and here I am pushing them and dragging them through evolution after evolution. Are they annoyed or not? I suppose it doesn't matter, the training will keep them alive. They can feel whatever they like as long as they stay alive and follow orders.

"Good, the both of you will be serving as the squad scouts. This exerise is designed with that in mind." I pull a holomap of the obstacle course (retrofited to appear like the standard defensive layout of a Con firebase) with blinking lights showing the sensor positions. At the opposite end of the course there is a button.

"The goal is to get through the course touch the button and return to the starting point without tripping the sensors shown here. Some of them are visual, others audio and some are motion detectors. Are there any questions?" I state.

[LadyTevar]

While Crimson was thinking of setting BreakOut up with someone to take up all his free time, the training sim did catch her interest. This was one of the areas where the Fembots had excelled.

"Yes, I have a few," she said, looking over the holomap and memorizing it. "First, are we competing, or working as a team?" That would be the biggest challenge. "Next, do we know which sensors detect which, or is that randomized?" Not all sensors looked alike, but that didn't mean one could tell which was which. "I'm going to assume destroying one will set off an alarm as well?"

[frigidmagi]

"First, are we competing, or working as a team?"

"You will be going through solo. Team runs will be a future exercise."

"Next, do we know which sensors detect which, or is that randomized?"

"For this run it's randomized. I am sorry about that but the programing is slightly sub-par on allowing me to dictate that. I am told that it will be upgraded... soon." Breakout couldn't quiet keep the bitterness out of his voice. He waged a neverending struggle to drag the training aides kicking and screaming into the realm of realism and usefulness. Some Autobots helped, some sat still... Others kicked and screamed harder then any training aide could. At least Wheeljack and the other techs were happy to help, when it was pointed out to them.

"I'm going to assume destroying one will set off an alarm as well?"

"That is correct Crimson. If you like you may take a few moments to study the map. Anything else?" He asked.

[rhoenix]

"Good, the both of you will be serving as the squad scouts. This exerise is designed with that in mind." I pull a holomap of the obstacle course (retrofited to appear like the standard defensive layout of a Con firebase) with blinking lights showing the sensor positions. At the opposite end of the course there is a button.

"The goal is to get through the course touch the button and return to the starting point without tripping the sensors shown here. Some of them are visual, others audio and some are motion detectors. Are there any questions?"

Blindside was about to voice his questions, when Crimson echoed all of the ones he was going to ask, plus the question of destroying the sensors, which he hadn't thought of. While he was listening to her ask the questions and waiting for Breakout's response, he studied the map carefully, copying its data to appear as a transparent version at the upper right of his bicameral vision.

No matter which way the questions were answered, Blindside was looking forward to this. He resisted the temptation to change into his wolf form just yet - it had a tendency to cause confusion.

After Breakout answered Crimson's questions, he spoke up, having committed the map to memory. "No, Crimson asked all the questions I would have asked. I am ready whenever you are."