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Post by Hot Rod on Feb 1, 2008 3:55:44 GMT -7
"No, no, no. You're not listening. Bah WEEP grah nah WEEP nini bung!"
"BAH WEEB GRAH NAH WEEB NINI BUN."
"Bah. Weep. Grah nah. Weep. Nini... bung!"
"BAH WEEB GRAH NAH WEEB NINI BUN."
It might have been a futile exercise, but a deep in my spark I knew it had to be done. How could a recreational service droid not know about the universal greeting? Thousands, nay, millions of travelers pass through space ports like these every cycle and they don't know knowledge that is supposed to be universal.
At times like this I couldn't help but wonder if Kup was playing a cruel prank. With all of his experience we'd give him the benefit of the doubt, but he did have a devious streak from time to time. Maybe there was no universal greeting, although he did use it when we were facing down an army of Sharkticons and (nearly) walked away without an altercation.
Oh well. What can you do? I just sat back and absorbed another energon cocktail. Sure, it frazzles your processor function for a while, but the way it makes your spark sizzle just can't be beat. It was the most exhilarating experience, second only battle.
"I think this lesson's not going anywhere," I told the droid.
It hummed at me curiously. "DIDN'T YOU USED TO BE SOMEBODY?"
That tone of his was suddenly starting to get on my nerves. It was lucky for him that I was an Autobot and didn't shoot unless I absolutely had to. "I am somebody," I informed him flatly. "My name's Hot Rod. I'm one of the toughest damn Autobots to ever blast his way from this side of the cosmos to the other!"
"YOU LOOK LIKE RODIMUS PRIME."
Figures that they'd bring that up. Sometimes there's just no escaping your past. I took a long swig of the energon cocktail. "Never heard of him."
The way station I'd come to wasn't exactly the most friendly place in the universe. A lot of different characters passed through, some of them to meet and trade, others to simply refuel and gather supplies for a journey that could last another hundred years. It was also a place with which I'd had a lot of history.
During the Decepticon's reign of Cybertron this particular port, Darias Paxas, was used as a meeting ground with races who'd thrown their lot in with Megatron. Some of those races even came to call Darias Paxas their home and came to rely on the Decepticon pacts to maintain their incredible wealth.
Of course came the end of the great war, when the Autobots liberated Cybertron. I... Rodimus Prime came and abolished a number of long-standing contracts, destroying a number of factions built upon the black market. Even though it's a neutral territory the Autobots don't have a lot of friends here. Rodimus Prime still has quite a few enemies...
So why come here? I don't know. Maybe it's because, deep down, right in my spark of sparks, I'm just looking for a fight.
With a smile to the droid I order another drink. "One more, R2!"
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Post by Arcee on Feb 1, 2008 5:11:19 GMT -7
"Argh! You survived?! Damnit, I was sure I was on a winner this time!"
"Sorry."
"You know one day you won't make it through one of those suicide missions with your spark intact."
"Well that one day wasn't today..."
"Fresh repairs though, it was close, eh?"
"In your fantasies maybe. Truly sorry you lost the bet again, better go pay up."
It had become habit as of late to expect to hear about how the bets were going. It wasn't a public thing, but something that the regulars in the numerous way stations I stopped through during my 'runs' had begun taking up as my reputation among the Wreckers had come to the point where most believed I was truly suicidal.
But that wasn't the case really, I don't think at least, it was more just doing what I could to make sure our enemies had a harder time in trying to get an upper hand. Ok, so I had a few close calls, and perhaps didn't really count the odds properly, but hey, I still had my spark and some of the times didn't even come out with a scratch. Though some times I was also barely able to drag my sorry metal butt to be repaired as well.
Perhaps it had become an addiction, perhaps I was still looking for a way to forgive myself for past mistakes, either way, it was who I had become and it didn't rub my chassis the wrong way at all if few low lives thought it would be fun to make a profit on whether I would keep my head or not.
I had a particular stop to make before I moved on, and as I stepped into the bar I heard the distinctive cry of the only cat that one would see here ever. I leaned down to pick up Scraps and sat him on my shoulder as an old droid who ran the bar approached me as I sat for a moment.
"You're lucky you bring a lot of business through here, and supply that thing's food. It freaks out some of the patrons." He gave off the impression that he was unimpressed, but I knew he took enjoyment from Scraps' antics most of the time, unless it was costing him too much money.
"Thank you for watching him for me again. Any messages?"
"Just one from him say-..."
"Save it, I don't need to hear it again. I'll wait until I see him face to face for the lecture." It was a never ending story. I was too reckless, I shouldn't be working on my own. But in the end the jobs I chose were the ones no one else was willing to do: dangerous, and well... there were very few who could keep up with me, it was risk slowing down and having more than one being caught, or go in and get the job done asap. And if it so happened I didn't make it, well better one loss than more.
"Would you like anything before you go?"
I shook my head, "No thank you, I should probably head out soon. Report, questions to answer, lectures to face." I shrugged nonchalantly. In truth I was tired and didn't really want to head straight back, but I didn't like hanging around places like this for too long either. There was always the chance of being recognized, and usually by someone I'd pissed off, which was quite a few lately.
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Post by Hot Rod on Feb 1, 2008 5:53:16 GMT -7
It was a dog eat dog universe, but not a one of them seemed to be on the same station. Even when I'm weak, even when the energon cocktails have slowed my processor, even when I stepped in wearing loud colors in a place he knew I'd be recognized not a single one of them wanted a piece of me. Why not?
Once more, perhaps, Rodimus Prime had been effective. He was a powerful leader, a warrior born, something which Optimus did indeed lack, but that by no means made him greater. Nobody could really think Optimus Prime lesser for believing in a greater piece, in the goodness of all sentient beings. While he'd fought to protect life, freedom and justice, battled oppression against all tyranny, the one thing he truly lacked was compassion.
Damn it. Is a fight really what I need? Is that really going to make me feel better? ... There's really only one way to find out.
Gear ground against each other and limbs collapsed on themselves as my body shifted from one mode to another. Nobody on the station was bound to recognize a Dodge Viper when they saw one, but I'm pretty damn sure that they'd know to get out of the way when they saw it charging towards them at eighty miles an hour.
Sure enough they jumped from the pathways to avoid collision. Come on... just one of you pull out a gun and take a few shots! I dare you! I absolutely, positively dare you!
They just ran and screamed. None of them were ever really in danger, though I doubt to look at them that any ever thought that. Despite the slump I'm not quite low enough to hurt people unprovoked: not like a Decepticon. The only reason I felt able to let loose in the first place was from knowing how dirty this place had been.
Charging through the halls I came upon the hangar. My own ship was there, somewhere: a smaller vessel designed to carry one.
That's why I was amazed to see a larger Cybertronian craft docked in the main loading bay. It wasn't as small as mine, not by a long shot, and it was covered in Autobot symbols and graffiti. It was the mark of the Wreckers, the rag-tag loosely affiliated group of Autobots who took up missions that verged on suicide.
I gasped to myself, "Well I'll be damned..."
The markings were a dead giveaway: "NO FEAR OF DEATH", followed by a scorecard of how many Decepticons had been taken out at their hand.
I transformed and studied it. Who could be here? It didn't matter. At one point I wanted to be a Wrecker, to seek adventure wherever I went, to take all the dull moments out of life... but fate came along and took care of that.
Turns out you don't need to be a Wrecker to destroy yourself. Most bots are fine doing that all on their own.
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Post by Arcee on Feb 1, 2008 6:53:50 GMT -7
As I sat for a few moments chatting with the bot who looked after Scraps on occasions when I couldn't risk taking him with me (which was more often than not, surprise, surprise), I heard a commotion outside, though didn't pay it much attention. There was always some idiot out there who wanted some attention. There were better things to worry about. Of course if a fight had broken out then I probably would have been all over it in a nanosecond.
Thanking the bar owner, I scratched Scraps lightly as he purred against my neck and made my way out and through the station, picking up on panicked conversations about some crazy bot threatening to wipe everyone out while speeding recklessly throughout the facility before heading toward the hangar. While I didn't pay it much heed, I still thought it might be wise if I got to my ship before this potential trouble maker decided it might be fun to jerk around with a Wrecker.
I was fast whether by tyre or foot and so it wouldn't take me long at all to reach the hangar bay. Now, I knew it was always possible to run into recognizable faces while travelling, especially in places like this. But there were some that one was prepared to see and some that you weren't. Even with his back turned to me I knew exacly who it was studying my ship.
For a moment I was stunned, I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen Hot Rod... Rodimus... both were names he'd gone by, though the latter had been dropped I was certain, with the return of Optimus. I had already distanced myself long before then, and had immersed myself with the business of the Wreckers since. There was no doubt in my mind that both had been great leaders in their own different ways, and I had been proud to have served beneath both, but the clearer memories I carried with me involved the one who was right there in the hangar.
Cycles of those memories threatened to take hold before I gathered myself quickly, studying him for a moment without making a sound. I had thought at one time that he would have considered joining the Wreckers, though it was a short lived idea when my thoughts began to revolve around finding the most dangerous assignments to involve myself with.
Finally, I spoke after watching him silently, "You could try counting but it might take a while..." Yes, way to show how adept I'd become in my line of work while risking my own neck everytime I went out. Oh well, just one more to think I'd gone insane, "I take it you were the 'mad speedster' making a fuss just before?"
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Post by Hot Rod on Feb 2, 2008 1:08:16 GMT -7
"Well, aren't you a sight for sore optics?" I was happy to see her... kinda. It was more a bittersweet thing. You know how these things happen.
The humans called it love, but there was more to it than that. We were transformers with no biological function. The same chemicals that pumped through nearly every creature in the universe didn't pump through us, because we didn't need to mate to survive. Instead what formed was a greater sense of camaraderie, when two transformers became so close that we would open ourselves and allow our sparks to touch, not knowing where each of us began and ended. For a brief moment we could be one, like Starscream and Skyfire, Galvatron and Cyclonis and... for a time... Hot Rod and Arcee.
Yeah, I guess that's kind of my guilty confession, that I can't process whatever I feel whenever I saw Arcee again, especially after all we'd been through. Maybe it was my own fault for distancing myself, but it seeing her with Springer it was hard not to be... something. I don't know what the word for it is. Betrayal doesn't even come into it, because really it was something I brought on myself.
Not that I let it show, though. The advantage of being a robot is that you can mask what you're processing a lot better than flesh and blood creatures. After all they're made of flesh and blood and really, don't have full control over their own form. It's sad for them in a way.
Here I was with Arcee, a Wrecker, piloting a dinged up old ship docked in the middle of nowhere. Now she was scolding me lightly for my little outburst. If need be I could blame the recreational processor retardants.
"Sometimes you just have to burn some octane," I shrugged, then turned back to the scorecard. "2,167 Decepticons down... and I'm guessing this ship is at least fifty cycles old. It doesn't look like you're doing too badly."
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Post by Arcee on Feb 2, 2008 2:37:32 GMT -7
"Its good to see you too." To most it would seem as though he'd never changed from the old days, long before claiming Cybertron back and everything that followed. But I suppose it was fair to say that I had known him almost better than anyone, at least enough to notice small differences. Besides, one didn't go through the kinds of things all of us involved went through without gaining some wisdom... and scars. In fact there was a physical reminder of a few of the ones I carried with me standing right here.
History, apparently there was a time I carried a lot of it with me, it was possible that this shell was millions of years old by Earth standards. But to me and my spark, my life began when I woke from the stasis pod and continued from there. And Hot Rod had been a big part of that history.
For a time we were almost inseperable. So what happened? I was never certain really. Once he had become Rodimus Prime, one might think I would have been his right hand and most reliable support, but responsiblity had come in the way of anything else. He had a job to lead the rest of us and be strong in his position, and in knowing that I also knew that I would never want to become a weakness.
Which is precisely what happened that one time I had been lax in duty. I had deserved what happened to me, and my fate should have been sealed way back then. Instead I was restored, at the risk of almost losing the Matrix. In the end I couldn't forgive myself for becoming that weak link. I busied myself and found myself teamed up with Springer more often than not.
Truth be told, there had been something with Springer, but it was different again. You couldn't compare sparks against one another. But in the end even he was distanced by my constant search for self-forgiveness for whatever it was that haunted me still, through the suicidal missions I took on. One of which I'd barely survived before docking here to pick up Scraps.
I shrugged as I stepped closer, glancing at the score card myself, "I do my best... or worst. Depends on your point of view. I work solo now and still manage to keep my spark intact, so I must be doing something right." I turned and glanced up at him, "But I'm interested in what brings you here. It wasn't exactly one of your favorite places."
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Post by Windstreaker on Feb 2, 2008 5:07:56 GMT -7
"Well looky looky looky." I was careful to keep my tones down. Wouldn't want to attract attention to meself now would I? The bolts, screws and doodads all whirred softly as I moved my legs from the position it was in. I rose caustiously, my optics never leaving the walls that held me in captivity of the bar. I walked slowly over to the bar, my back turned to everyone else so's not to get attention...If they recognized me, I'd probably have to act "innocent". Bah. Innocent's not the way to go! Guns-ablazing! I chuckled at my little joke and leaned on the bar. "You. Droid-thing. G-gimme.." I paused. What did I want? Besides to kick the tail-pipes of anyone who looked at me funny. "Gimme an energon cocktail. Make it really strong too." I glared at the droid as it scurried off, acting as if it were busy. So it understood me. Point for me! It scurried back over to me and I took the beverage with a small grunt of thanks. Rude of me? Shoot me. I walked back to my previous position and sat down, gears, bolts and doodads still whirring. I'd have to grease them up soon. I eyed a few conversing bots with that feeling of..Hatred? Naw. Nothing that bad. More like..Fury..Yeah. Fury sounded good. What I wanted more than anything was to go over and make a scene infront of those bots. Bloody do-gooders. Heck, even if they weren't do-gooders, it'd be fun to just cause a scene. I wanted to throw my..Whatever the hell was in my hand..At them. But no no, I must save that for later. I stretched my legs out and kicked a droid that was whizzing past. I didn't feel any remorse. It whirled around and looked at me funny. Funny. On bad days, I'd have blasted that pesky little thing for just whirling around. Must be having a "good" day. I had to resist from bursting out laughing. Me? Good? Aha. Aha. I forgot how to laugh. "Did you hear? There are autobots in the hangar!" "What? Real autobots? Here? Are they daft?" I looked up, that bit of conversation certainly getting my attention.
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Post by Hot Rod on Feb 2, 2008 18:20:29 GMT -7
"I'm afraid that's top secret," I lied. "The Wreckers aren't the only ones who get the dirty jobs, you know."
I shot her a grin but didn't know how honest it was. What are the odds of running into the one robot in all of the universe you shared an awkward history with? Pretty slim, and to say that I was absolutely dumbfounded was an understatement and a half. I stood silently, doing something that I'd only seen humans do: I think they called it 'tongue-tied'. It was probably a side effect of the energon drinks affecting my processor.
Facing the ship I once more calculated the numbers etched into the hull. "I could probably ask you the same question. After this count you've probably wiped out the last of the Decepticons. Ever since we claimed Vector Sigma... their numbers just keep shrinking."
There were whispers coming from the level above. The inhabitants of the station watched with a fixed interest, also curious as to what two Autobots would want in their refuge. They watched and gossiped, keeping close tabs on every move that one of us would make. What disturbed me more was where this information could have been going.
Arcee could handle herself alright. The kitten in her hand I wasn't so sure about. How she'd managed to smuggle it away so far from earth was beyond me. I bent down towards it. "Hey, little guy. What's his name?"
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Post by Arcee on Feb 2, 2008 22:34:05 GMT -7
"I guess..." I wasn't entirely convinced, especially when my receptors had picked up on his reaction time which seemed hindered in comparision to the memories my processor ran through. My sensors also picked up a faint trace of the concoction the bars here usually served. And I'd thought I had reached the lowest rung of the ladder. It could just be a one time thing, but I somehow doubted it. I guessed you didn't have to be a Wrecker in order to get wrecked.
I remained silent though, it wasn't my place to say anything, we all made our choices. Mine was in the tally on the side of my ship, and the constant repair work I got done. The last mission had been a close one, almost too close, but I'd still come out better than the other bot.
As the silence was broken and the conversation led to the number I'd just been dwelling on, I smiled lightly, "Why else would a Wrecker be out here?" I pointed out the fresh repairs on my arm and chest, "It was a close one, but I still maintain my straight winning streak." Of course, we both knew a loss meant I wouldn't be here right now indulging in casual banter. "But they still keep showing up whenever something interesting occurs, who knows how many or how far spread they were before we claimed it."
I shrugged then turned back to Hot Rod after studying the score for a moment myself, "We could always use more Wreckers... if you think you could stand the heat." I grinned, knowing full well he'd always enjoyed a challenge just as much as myself. Constructed from the same parts maybe, we'd always shared a similar taste for speed and battle.
I knew very well that we were being observed, I was used to it since I stopped here regularly, though truth be told I'd never been in the presence of another Autobot while here, and no doubt that would arouse suspicions. I smiled when attention was drawn to my furry little partner, "Scraps. I found him in a scrap pile back on Earth. Got him some food and he hasn't left me since. Really my only company since Springer and I had a falling out." It was no secret. Springer thought I was on a self-destructive path and didn't want to be witness to it. I simply took the risks no one else was willing to because it had to be done. I petted Scraps lightly as he purred on my shoulder, "He's a good companion though."
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Post by Windstreaker on Feb 2, 2008 23:34:47 GMT -7
I grinned maliciously as I walked over to the two conversing bots. "Where are they?" Three simple words. I don't care if my tones are nasty, I needed the information. And I needed it now. "Th-there." The tones from the other bots were fear stricken. Spreading fear? Who me? The bot motioned towards the hangar. I smiled and nodded curtly at the thing that told me where the autobots were. I could feel a shiver in my spark. Something that reminded me of the hunt. It'd been so long since I'd had any action and these two Autobots were in my neck of the galaxy. What luck!.
I headed off towards the hangar, plotting their demise. I wanted to enjoy this, but I didn't want to get my tail-pipe kicked. Choices choices. I had to settle on the airlock. I know I know. It's not "honorable" but I don't believe in that stuff. I mean, who needs honor when you can just waltz right in and do something wrong and lose it all? Better off without it I say. I tapped my chest plate in thought as I neared the hangar. I needed to be cautious now. I had to actually see for myself the two autobots. The tip of my finger flipped open and a slim cable slid its way out. Suddenly my vision wavered and I could see myself.
The cable extended further and further. A little more and I'd be able to see around the corner. As the little cable reached the corner, I could hear muffled speech. I ignored it, not bothering with it. The cable turned around the corner and my vision was flooded with images of tonka-toys. The image was unfocused and I grumbled in disgust. The cable rotated and everything got sharp and focused. Sure enough there were two machines standing and talking. One had a living organism. Oh the fun of it all! From what I could remember, they were Hot Rod and Arcee. They were toughies. What fun! Oh what fun indeed!.
I retracted the cable and the tip of my finger flipped back over nicely. Okay. So they were definately inside the hangar. Time for some fun. I spun around and looked for a wall panel. My luck must've been in today. I walked over to the panel and typed in a few keys. The panel wasn't operating fully and I had to try hard not to punch it. See! I can show restraint! I tapped another key and the monitor flickered to life. That was more like it.
I'd accessed the hangar door functions and I hit the close button. A grating sound filled the air as the door slid shut. I wanted to see their faces as the air-lock opened and they were sucked out. I knew it wouldn't kill them but I just think it'd be funny. Oh. They had a living organism with them too. Oh well. The sound stopped as it slammed into place. I smirked at the now closed door and turned back to the panel. I opened the air lock control, smiling at it. This was too easy. I hit the button and watched the screen fill up with warning symbols.
Warning? I didn't need a warning. I knew what I was doing. I laughed at the thought of the two autobots being launched out into space.
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Post by Hot Rod on Feb 3, 2008 5:29:21 GMT -7
He was a cute little feller, I had to give him that much. Only once in their life could they ever be this adorable. It wasn't as though you could get their shells refitted and give them a new paint job. In that way I feel sorry for organics: they're specifically designed to be temporary. A good machine can last damn near forever... if you don't get scrapped, that is.
There was a loud hiss as the airlock opened. Air started rushing past, drawing Arcee and I into the void of space. It wouldn't kill us, but we'd be sitting ducks out there. Something had overrided the safety controls and countless organic beings that inhabited the vessel were being pulled into the cold and the vacuum to a certain death.
We were losing our footing fast. There was only one real option: transform. My vehicle mode struggled to gain traction on the metal surface, but it stuck to the ground. The wheels turned at incredible speed and rubber began to burn. For small moments I'd make in inch of progress but then be pulled back twice as far.
I saw Arcee leave the ground, the force carrying her frame which was far lighter than mine. More concerning was the kitten in her arms. "Hold on, Arcee!"
Damn it. Why weren't the emergency blast doors closing? No time to question it: just get out of it. She flew back along the length of the Wrecker ship. Maybe... just maybe...
I transformed back into my robot mode and slid against the ground, holding myself as closely as I could to it and wedging myself against a fixed structure. Taking careful aim I took a single photon shot and struck the target I was hoping for: the door of her craft.
It hung open and she was flying directly towards it. I muttered to myself, "Come on, Arcee. Do it for Scraps!"
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Post by Arcee on Feb 5, 2008 4:52:29 GMT -7
I had to admit it was nice to just be sharing friendly conversation with another Autobot for a moment. I'd alienated myself so much I'd forgotten what it was like. Scraps didn't seem to mind Hot Rod's presence as he curiously studied the bot, maybe sizing him up to see if he was any threat. Something I found to be both cute and funny.
But as I registered the hiss of the airlocks, I automatically clutched on to the small organic life before there was a chance that he'd be sucked straight out into the depths of space. Unfortunately, that left me little room to do anything as my own lighter structure was swept from the ground with the force. With one arm, I kept a firm hold on Scraps while I tried to think of what to do. I was still near the ship, but as dented as it was in some places I still wouldn't get a firm grip anywhere.
I picked up a blast fired at my ship and almost thought for a moment that I was under attack in my unadvantageous position, but then realised the door of my craft had been shot open. Flying straight toward, it I reached out and caught a hand on it, pulling myself in with Scraps, and shot Hot Rod an appreciative smile (while also making sure he was safe in the spot he'd wedged himself into) before running inside and straight to the cockpit. There I opened a security hatch and Scraps knew the procedure as he jumped inside. It was his safe place, where he had to go when there was trouble.
While the hangar was depressurising, I figured I would at least see if I could find the culprit who thought it a good idea to open the airlock. I switched to the cameras and surveyed the area quickly and frowned as I pinpointed the one responsible. A bot playing around with the hangar controls, and not just any average bot... a Decepticon. Seemed we'd gained some very unwanted attention afterall.
I played with one of my mini-photon guns as I quickly made my way back to the open hatch, a habit when I was preparing to enter the fray. And though it had been many cycles since we'd seen each other, let alone entered battle together, Hot Rod would probably still recognise the look I shot him as I hung just outside the door in wait for the pressure in the hanger to calm, the one that said I was ready to take down the enemy.
I doubted I would be alone, but I still had to wonder just how many of those energon cocktails he'd had consumed while he was here. Sure he'd been able to shoot the door open on my ship, but that was different from a fight. Maybe the promise of some action might be enough to sober his processor somewhat, then again maybe I'd find myself covering both our chassis.
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Post by Windstreaker on Feb 5, 2008 23:51:43 GMT -7
The laughter died down. Surely by now the Autobots’ had been sucked out into space. I wanted to check. I did! Though if I opened that door, I’d be sucked out too. That sure isn’t on my list of things to do today. I wasn’t even sure that sucking autobots out into outerspace was on the list, but it sure can be there. What kind of Decepticon resists the urge to kick the tailpipes of an autobot?! Put me in a room with them. I dare ya. Come back after a week and you’ll have to mop up its body parts.
I looked at the panel. The flashing lights were dimming. My guess is that the power is fadin’ away from it. That can’t be good. I punched in a few keys and the lights flickered back to normal. The warning signs had all but gone and a single button remained on the screen. It said “Close” in the Earth language. Odd isn’t it?
I punched in that key and the button vanished. A little pop up appeared on the screen confirming the air-lock was now firmly and tightly closed and that regular pressure had been restored. I eyed the panel, wary. The door control was now back on the screen. It baffled me. I’d never planned on re-opening that large door. I shrugged. Well. My version of a shrug. I punched in a few more keys and the same ol’ grating noise filled the air. “Damn thing needs to be greased.” I glared at it as it slowly opened.
I tried to activate my big head scanners, but something made it fizzle till it was just static. I growled, the tones coming out really deep. I was almost shocked at it. I did what I thought was a shrug again and stepped infront of the source of the grating noises. Now I needed my little “flight-enducers” or ‘jet-packs’. If they weren’t functioning, heads were definitely going to roll.
I stood before the slowly opening doors, tempted to just lodge my fist into the frame. Slowly but surely the grating ceased as it rested in it’s set place. Hopefully my little arm scanner was operational. If it wasn’t, someone was defintaly going to incur the wrath of a certain Decepticon. I activated my little jet-packs that were concealed in my “legs” and flew forwards into the hangar.
I flew forwards and upwards at the same time. Amazing isn’t it? I switched to a hover as I neared the ceiling of the hangar and brought my arm up. I pushed in a button and brought up a small holographic screen. It was very hazy and fuzzy so it was pretty much useless. Clearly one of the ships had gone topsy-turvy and radiation was leaking. That would explain the lack of scanner use. I switched off the scanner and lowered my arm. I couldn’t see much, my optics a little fuzzy. I could make out a huge plasma canon. If the autobots had somehow managed to stay inside, I’d be able to use that large beast of a gun.
Wowee!
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