measured_words (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
measured_words) wrote2008-07-31 10:54 pm
measured_words) wrote2008-07-31 10:54 pm
Entry tags:
Ghosts of the Past pt. 3
I wanted to be able to start clean for August Writing tomorrow, so I thought I'd finish my half-written scene and type up what was in my (new) notebook. Et Voila!
Transformers: AU G1/Beast Era (early season 3)
Dart + BW peeps
Technically a follow up to the as-yet incomplete Dart origin I'm still working on.
Optimus hadn’t had a chance to process the encounter when Rattrap paged him to the maximal’s makeshift command center. Today it seemed like the ghosts of the past were scrutinizing him even more closely, and his responsibilities seemed a heavier burden. He pushed these morose thoughts to the side. “What’s the situation?”
“Eh, Lassie and his turncoat she-witch just called in some enemy activity in sector Delta F.”
He let the epithets slide – no one ever took much of what Rattrap said to heart, even when they were present. “Details?”
“Looks like Megs’s got ‘em collecting energon again – though they ain’t aiming for the quality stuff. Least, not if they’re looking to fuel up.”
“What do you mean, Rattrap?”
“Well,” he leaned back in his chair, swiveling to face Primal, “now, this is just my *professional* opinion, and I’m workin’ with second hand information here… but from what I can tell of the deposits they’re mining, seems ta me like they’re fixin’ ta build a bomb.”
Optimus pursed his lips. “Well, that’s just Prime. Have Silverbolt and Blackarachnia keep a close watch on the Predacons, and tell them that Cheetor and I and on our way to help disrupt their operations.”
“You got it boss. What you want we should do with our, ah, guest?”
“Keep an eye on him for now. I’m not ready to give him the run of the ship quite yet.”
----------------------
Dart waited for a cycle after his rescuers left, performing an in-depth self-diagnostic. He was functional, but not at optiml operational capacity. His thoughts were a little fuzzy, as though his processors were running slow, or slightly out of synch. There were other oddities as well. Dart often noticed minor changes after undergoing major repairs, and these were to his understanding par for the course given his unconventional design. Still, it was clear to him just how unfamiliar his systems much have been to this Rhinox.
Seeking further explanation of his situation, he examined some of the technology they’d brought to their make-shift repair bay. Some he recognized as salvaged from other sections of the Ark. Even among the pieces of foreign equipment, there were some whose function he could readily discern – various probes, sensors and monitors. The language was Cybertronian. Some of the smaller pieces, tools and surgical equipment, were the most enigmatic, and he guessed they might be related to the differences in construction between himself and these others. Dart had only the faintest idea about what might be required to maintain an organic creature, let alone a melding of organic and technology.
The instruments didn’t hold his interest for very long. They brought only new questions, and he sought answers. Dart left them where he’d found them and turned instead to the computer terminal affixed to the wall. These friendly interlopers might have access to Teletraan-1, but he doubted they knew its workings as well as he did. Computers and software were more Phreak’s specialty, but she’d trusted him with some of her security clearance passcodes. He set to work, hoping he knew enough to get through without alerting whoever was surely monitoring him.
--------------------
By the time they arrived, the firefight had already started. Optimus and Cheetor could hear the shots, as well as Inferno’s echoing cries of ‘For the Royalty!’ They rounded the Cliffside and nearly flew headlong into an escaping Waspinator. The predacon did his best to back air and take evasive action, but he was burdened by a sling full of energon. Cheetor, with lightning reflexes, darted more easily backwards. As optimus veered off, the flying cat popped off a few rounds that detonated Waspinator’s volatile load. He hapless insect barely had a chance to register his surprised before his parts were scattered across the landscape.
And then, only the real threats remained. Megatron himself wasn’t present, but until the backup reached the main fray, it was still three on two. Rampage, Quickstrike, and Inferno had the two Maximals pinned down in a rock overhang, and were moving in fast. The huge energon explosion had alerted the combatants to the incoming cavalry, and Inferno turned to greet them with a blast of fire and a cackle of mad laughter.
“I’ll take care of him, Big Bot! Seems I brought my lucky bug swatter.”
Primal nodded to Cheetor, who patted his gun cockily. As formidable as the ant could be, the real challenge to his friends below came from the immortal warrior rampage. With one foe distracted, Silverbolt and Blackarachnia has already had Quickstrike on the run… And that might just give him the opportunity he needed.
“Rampage!” He called out as he landed, drawing the crab’s attention. “This party is over!”
“Why don’t you as your pal Deoth Charge how well I do ‘over’.” Rampage was already transforming into his tank mode, his cannon aimed at the Maximal leader’s chest.
He jumped away from the first blast, coming back down to the ground next to where the wounded Fuzor was trying to scuttle away as quickly as possible.
“Hey partner… No-no-no-URK!”
Optimus grabbed him by the snake head as Rampage, undaunted by his so-called ally’s predicament, pivoted for another shot. The ape charged, swinging Quickstrike around over his head to build momentum. “Then how about we call an extended time-out!”
He swung, releasing his Predacon missile on the follow through. The dizzy Fuzor slammed in to Rampage, and the two went flying – out of sight, and hopefully out of the maximal’s hair for the time being.
“Who’d have guessed Quickstrike was a triple changer too?” Cheetor, looking rather burnt, landed ungracefully beside him. “Snake, scorpion… and bat!”
“Where’s Inferno?”
“Look’s like he’s got his hand’s full.”
Primal followed the cat;s gaze skyward. Inferno, mostly ignoring a hail of fire from Blackarachnia’s leg guns, was staring in flabbergast rage at one of Silverbolt’s missiles, lodged firmly in the barrel of his flame thrower. It exploded, sending the ant flying backwards, his arms joining Waspinator’s parts in littering the valley.
Once he was sure the area was clear, he turned his full attention back to his troops. “Is everyone alright?”
“The lady and I are undamaged, thanks to your timely intervention.” Silverbolt bowed his gratitude with a flourish. Blackarachnia rolled her eyes, but nodded.
“I’m a little singed, but it’s nothing.”
“Good.” He was wiling to accept Cheetor’s bravado for now, but a round in the CR chamber when they got back to base seemed in order. “So what happened? You two were supposed to wait for backup.”
“It looked like they were packing up shop,” the spider explained, “so we thought we should take a closer look. Only someone here isn’t as good as he claims at being stealthy.”
“What!?” Silverbolt looked more astonished than affronted. “That deceitful two-headed wretch claimed it was your womanly charms that alerted him to our presence!”
“Whatever. We were made, but I think they’d moved out most of the good they were after.”
Primal scowled, then sighed. “That’s… less than optimal. Rattrap thinks they’re working on a bomb, and I’m sure we can all guess their target. I’m going to keep you two on patrol – I need someone to keep a close eye on the Preds, *and* I want to try and minimize our contact with our Autobot guest.”
Transformers: AU G1/Beast Era (early season 3)
Dart + BW peeps
Technically a follow up to the as-yet incomplete Dart origin I'm still working on.
Optimus hadn’t had a chance to process the encounter when Rattrap paged him to the maximal’s makeshift command center. Today it seemed like the ghosts of the past were scrutinizing him even more closely, and his responsibilities seemed a heavier burden. He pushed these morose thoughts to the side. “What’s the situation?”
“Eh, Lassie and his turncoat she-witch just called in some enemy activity in sector Delta F.”
He let the epithets slide – no one ever took much of what Rattrap said to heart, even when they were present. “Details?”
“Looks like Megs’s got ‘em collecting energon again – though they ain’t aiming for the quality stuff. Least, not if they’re looking to fuel up.”
“What do you mean, Rattrap?”
“Well,” he leaned back in his chair, swiveling to face Primal, “now, this is just my *professional* opinion, and I’m workin’ with second hand information here… but from what I can tell of the deposits they’re mining, seems ta me like they’re fixin’ ta build a bomb.”
Optimus pursed his lips. “Well, that’s just Prime. Have Silverbolt and Blackarachnia keep a close watch on the Predacons, and tell them that Cheetor and I and on our way to help disrupt their operations.”
“You got it boss. What you want we should do with our, ah, guest?”
“Keep an eye on him for now. I’m not ready to give him the run of the ship quite yet.”
----------------------
Dart waited for a cycle after his rescuers left, performing an in-depth self-diagnostic. He was functional, but not at optiml operational capacity. His thoughts were a little fuzzy, as though his processors were running slow, or slightly out of synch. There were other oddities as well. Dart often noticed minor changes after undergoing major repairs, and these were to his understanding par for the course given his unconventional design. Still, it was clear to him just how unfamiliar his systems much have been to this Rhinox.
Seeking further explanation of his situation, he examined some of the technology they’d brought to their make-shift repair bay. Some he recognized as salvaged from other sections of the Ark. Even among the pieces of foreign equipment, there were some whose function he could readily discern – various probes, sensors and monitors. The language was Cybertronian. Some of the smaller pieces, tools and surgical equipment, were the most enigmatic, and he guessed they might be related to the differences in construction between himself and these others. Dart had only the faintest idea about what might be required to maintain an organic creature, let alone a melding of organic and technology.
The instruments didn’t hold his interest for very long. They brought only new questions, and he sought answers. Dart left them where he’d found them and turned instead to the computer terminal affixed to the wall. These friendly interlopers might have access to Teletraan-1, but he doubted they knew its workings as well as he did. Computers and software were more Phreak’s specialty, but she’d trusted him with some of her security clearance passcodes. He set to work, hoping he knew enough to get through without alerting whoever was surely monitoring him.
--------------------
By the time they arrived, the firefight had already started. Optimus and Cheetor could hear the shots, as well as Inferno’s echoing cries of ‘For the Royalty!’ They rounded the Cliffside and nearly flew headlong into an escaping Waspinator. The predacon did his best to back air and take evasive action, but he was burdened by a sling full of energon. Cheetor, with lightning reflexes, darted more easily backwards. As optimus veered off, the flying cat popped off a few rounds that detonated Waspinator’s volatile load. He hapless insect barely had a chance to register his surprised before his parts were scattered across the landscape.
And then, only the real threats remained. Megatron himself wasn’t present, but until the backup reached the main fray, it was still three on two. Rampage, Quickstrike, and Inferno had the two Maximals pinned down in a rock overhang, and were moving in fast. The huge energon explosion had alerted the combatants to the incoming cavalry, and Inferno turned to greet them with a blast of fire and a cackle of mad laughter.
“I’ll take care of him, Big Bot! Seems I brought my lucky bug swatter.”
Primal nodded to Cheetor, who patted his gun cockily. As formidable as the ant could be, the real challenge to his friends below came from the immortal warrior rampage. With one foe distracted, Silverbolt and Blackarachnia has already had Quickstrike on the run… And that might just give him the opportunity he needed.
“Rampage!” He called out as he landed, drawing the crab’s attention. “This party is over!”
“Why don’t you as your pal Deoth Charge how well I do ‘over’.” Rampage was already transforming into his tank mode, his cannon aimed at the Maximal leader’s chest.
He jumped away from the first blast, coming back down to the ground next to where the wounded Fuzor was trying to scuttle away as quickly as possible.
“Hey partner… No-no-no-URK!”
Optimus grabbed him by the snake head as Rampage, undaunted by his so-called ally’s predicament, pivoted for another shot. The ape charged, swinging Quickstrike around over his head to build momentum. “Then how about we call an extended time-out!”
He swung, releasing his Predacon missile on the follow through. The dizzy Fuzor slammed in to Rampage, and the two went flying – out of sight, and hopefully out of the maximal’s hair for the time being.
“Who’d have guessed Quickstrike was a triple changer too?” Cheetor, looking rather burnt, landed ungracefully beside him. “Snake, scorpion… and bat!”
“Where’s Inferno?”
“Look’s like he’s got his hand’s full.”
Primal followed the cat;s gaze skyward. Inferno, mostly ignoring a hail of fire from Blackarachnia’s leg guns, was staring in flabbergast rage at one of Silverbolt’s missiles, lodged firmly in the barrel of his flame thrower. It exploded, sending the ant flying backwards, his arms joining Waspinator’s parts in littering the valley.
Once he was sure the area was clear, he turned his full attention back to his troops. “Is everyone alright?”
“The lady and I are undamaged, thanks to your timely intervention.” Silverbolt bowed his gratitude with a flourish. Blackarachnia rolled her eyes, but nodded.
“I’m a little singed, but it’s nothing.”
“Good.” He was wiling to accept Cheetor’s bravado for now, but a round in the CR chamber when they got back to base seemed in order. “So what happened? You two were supposed to wait for backup.”
“It looked like they were packing up shop,” the spider explained, “so we thought we should take a closer look. Only someone here isn’t as good as he claims at being stealthy.”
“What!?” Silverbolt looked more astonished than affronted. “That deceitful two-headed wretch claimed it was your womanly charms that alerted him to our presence!”
“Whatever. We were made, but I think they’d moved out most of the good they were after.”
Primal scowled, then sighed. “That’s… less than optimal. Rattrap thinks they’re working on a bomb, and I’m sure we can all guess their target. I’m going to keep you two on patrol – I need someone to keep a close eye on the Preds, *and* I want to try and minimize our contact with our Autobot guest.”