Crude Intentions

Iran ''Once called Persia and conquered by both Cyrus the Great and Alexander the Great, Iran is a high, arid plateau ringed by massive, heavily-eroded mountain ranges crowned with oak, beech, linden, and elm forests. Some of these snow-covered peaks are volcanically active, producing frequent, devastating earthquakes. In the interior are the vast salt deserts, dotted with the occasional lush oasis but consisting mostly of salt crusts over treacherous, quicksandlike salt marshes. On the north border are the salty marshes bordering the Caspian Sea. To the southwest, pipelines transport oil from the huge oilfields to the Persian Gulf refineries. The IGAT system pipes natural gas from the south to Tehran, the capital of Iran. Undeveloped coal, lead, and copper resources are scattered over much of the terrain.''

In the oil fields of Iran, there is a new threat menacing Earth. Crude, recently arrived from Cybertron, stomps across the salty barrens, heading towards an oil rig. His single, red optic peers out at the world, as Crude approaches the rig. Workers on the derrick shout in surprise at the sight of the Decepticon, quickly fleeing their place of toil.

Even Wreckers can get the off assignments now and again. Then again Sandstorm didn't really have a problem with being the one sent out 'on patrol' to make sure the Decepticons didn't try to sneak something else along while everyone was recovering from their latest crazy scheme. Not when he got sent someplace like this, with worn mountains and those pesty saltflat sandpits to keep his skills sharp.

Though the fun and games come to an end when he picks up a local distress call. Not that he understands Iranian, but the sound of 'humans in distress!' is universal! "Well heh. And here I thought I'd have to entertain myself on this trip." Sand flies as the armored buggy fishtails around a turn, puts the pedal to the metal and blasts off in the direction the broadcasts

Crude lumbers towards the oil derrick, laughing to himself at the fleeing humans. "Hahahah! Flee, you little idiots! For I am the master of death! I am your ruin!" he shouts, before letting a stream of napalm fly from his wrists at the retreating Iranians. It doesn't strike anyone, but increases their fear, causing a deep chortle to come from Crude.

"... Never seen that one before," Sandstorm muses as the lumbering form starts to come into view. Not that it matters, a Decepticon is a Decepticon. High powered engine can be heard roaring as the assault buggy comes speeding by on one side of the big brute. "Typical 'Con, go visiting and all you do is break other people's toys!"

As he passes Sandstorm pulls a tight turn and goes into a cirle around the larger robot, rear tires and overpowered exhausts sending plumes of obscuring sand whirling into the air like a minature dust storm around them. Combat: Combat Dunebuggy  misses Crude with his Sandstorm attack!

"Huh?" Crude peers over his shoulder, seeing the dune buggy approaching him. "Well well well, if it isn't an Autobot pendejo! Frack you, Autobutt!" The sand whirls around Crude's lower body, as he points his hand at Sandstorm, spewing napalm in his direction. "Eat death!" Combat: Crude strikes Combat Dunebuggy  with its Napalm Puker attack!

.. That would of helped if the guy hadn't been taller than the blasts of sand reached. Instead a plasma blast hits the ground as he makes a loop and in a blast of furious energy sends the buggy rolling across the sand. Until it finally rolls over into a crouching robot instead, feet and fingers leaving ruts in the sand as Sandstorm brings himself to a stop. Well, at least he got the brute's attention on him and not the humans.

But the triplechanger just smirks a little. "Sorry, hafta pass. I've had bigger uglies than you try to dish it out." Pushing out of the crouch Sandstorm bolts back towards the slightly larger Decepticon. There's a glinting flash light reflects off the blade that pops into his grasp, and with a final lunge he tries to thrust it into the lug's side. "WRECK'N"RULE!" Combat: Combat Dunebuggy  sets his defense level to Aggressive. With a lightning fast flip and twist, Sandstorm lands in his robot mode, ready for action. Combat: Sandstorm misses Crude with his Thermal Knife attack!

Crude grabs Sandstorm's arm before he can plant the knife in, and uses his brute strength to push Sandstorm down. "You can't kill me, Autobutt! I am Crude, and I am AWESOME! Frack you!" He pulls out his drill harpoon, and attempts to stab it into Sandstorm. Combat: Crude misses Sandstorm with its Drill Harpoon attack!

Sandstorm gets shoved aside, hitting the ground. But returns the favor in snapping up his leg to kick Crude's arm aside as the Con lunges, and the harpoon slams into the ground over his shoulder as he rolls in the other direction. Just barely a miss, not that he's smirking any less as he looks the larger mech over. "Heh. Fitting name, I'm sure. Well, seeing as we're at introductions." As he kicks back onto his feet, the blaster appears in his other hand. "To my little friend here, that is." A scathing stream of erosive particles is fired back at Crude. "The don't call me SANDSTORM for nuttin'!" Combat: Sandstorm strikes Crude with his Sandblaster Gun attack!

Crude laughs as the particles strike his armor, oil spewing out of the wound, all over the desert sands. "Sandstorm, eh? More like SandWORM!" He aims to grab Sandstorm and pick him up, before hurling him headfirst into the oil derrick nearby. "I'm gonna wreck this planet, you hear me? Lousy frackin' Autobutts!" Combat: Crude misses Sandstorm with its Smash attack!

As it happens, one of the seekers is camped out in a prepared position overlooking the oilfields. Boomslang has been waiting there for over forty-eight hours in anticipation of the passing of a certain Iranian cleric whose untimely vaporization would make certain figures among Boomslang's network of unsavory human contacts wealthy indeed. He looks up from his paper bag of fuel canisters at the glinting of metal on metal in the far distance, and puts his eye to his rifle scope. Sure enough, a Decepticon he doesn't recognize well is tangling with what looks like that Wrecker scout. Boomslang decides to keep an eye on it- this looks interesting.

That oughta even things up a little ... not that Sandstorm gets a chance to celebrate before he's grabbed with a "Urk!" and flung across the oil field. If one was expecting a resounding collision they're in for disappointment though as Sandstorm's quick reflexes allow him to recover and grabs the side of the derrick and swing himself around it instead, disappearing behind briefly.

And coming around the opposite side is a helicopter instead. But wasn't he a dune buggy before? Darn triplechangers! "Only thing gettin' wrecked 'round here is yer ugly mug, 'Rudey!" The gun port beneath the front cockpit opens up, spewing a volley of rounds back at Crude's position. Jumping to the air, Sandstorm twists around rapidly, rotors whirl to life and he takes off in his helicopter mode. Combat: Sikorsky S-61R Copter  strikes Crude with his Ratatatatatatatatat! (Pistol) attack!

Crude laughs as the rounds strike him, not doing very much damage at all. "Ha ha ha! Do you expect to defeat me with these pitiful attacks? Go to hell, loser!" He fires another round of napalm at Sandstorm, lighting the oil rig ablaze with a large explosion. "I'm gonna burn you apart, if it takes me all day!" Combat: Crude strikes Sikorsky S-61R Copter  with its Napalm Puker attack!

Boomslang watches Crude and Sandstorm trade bullets and gouts of flame, keeping an eye out for any ordnance that he could guide in with his spotting lasers. So far it looks like Crude is handling things, though.

The helicopter banks to the side. "Your shooting is getting worse, big stu--" And realizes a moment later that dodging wasn't the best move that time. "--Ah slag!" He lifts into the air farther, but the flaming debris and burning oil from the derrick detonating into a furious explosion still pummels at the aircraft's side as he does so. Good thing the Wrecker was built of tough stuff.

Sandstorm buzzes around the Decepticon and the burning structure, swooping down low as he does so to kick up as much of the desert sand and even pull some of the smoke into the whirling drag of his rotors. Sucking it in and then spewing it outward once more, as much in an attempt to smother out the fire by sucking away the smokey air and smothering it in sand.

It just happens that he's blasting all that smoke and grit he's pulling out of it back at the Decepticon that started it. "Dammit dude, don't you know it's bad to smoke around oil?" Combat: Sikorsky S-61R Copter  misses Crude with his Sandstorm attack!

Crude laughs in glee as the oil derrick explodes, putting his hands on his belly as the hideous sound of his joy fills the area. "Hahahaha! Earth's precious resources are my BITCH!" He points a finger at Sandstorm, firing a disruptor ray from it. "I am the burninator!" Combat: Crude misses Sikorsky S-61R Copter  with its Disruptor attack!

"Burninator?" The chopper veers to the side as he fires, spinning on its axis at the same time to skillfully twist himself out of the way of the beam. "You just blew up an oil rig, and the best thing you can come up with is 'burninator?' Seriously?" At first it might look like he was starting to pull away, rising higher into the air.... Until he transforms again and tries to drop on top of Crude from above, pulling his superheated combat knife back out and trying to dig it into something important on the way down. "Geronimo!" With a lightning fast flip and twist, Sandstorm lands in his robot mode, ready for action. Combat: Sandstorm strikes Crude with his Overhead Stab attack! [Pulled -1]

The knife cuts along Crude's white and purple surface, leaving a long sparking wound. "Hey, do I go to where you work and knock the broom out of your hands?" he asks, befoe lashing out with an oversized fist. "Frack you, and frack your Quintesson mother!" Combat: Crude strikes Sandstorm with its Punch attack!

Boomslang flips open a panel on his wrist to look up Crude's description in his combatant identification database so he can get his radio frequency. Shouldn't be too hard as the guy looks like he turns into something fairly unique. Combat: Boomslang analyzes Sandstorm for weaknesses Crude can exploit.

A solid clang can be heard ringing across the sands as the meaty (metaly?) fist smashes into him, knocking Sandstorm sideways rather roughly. He'll be feeling that one in the morning. With a grunt he spat some energon and wiped his mouth on the back of an arm as he got up. "Frak this, frak that; you gotta work on those insults bucko. As for going to my workplace." He charges back at Crude again, flipping the weapon around in his hand and attempting to smash him with the weighted end of the hilt instead. "Cleanin' up after you punks -is- my work!" Combat: Sandstorm strikes Crude with his Hilt punch (Punch) attack!

Crude gets hit by the hilt of the weapon, a dull clang resounding from him as he's struck. "Haw haw haw, you frackin' idiot! I'm gonna rip your voice box out. /Then/ let's see how clever you are!" As Boomslang radios him, his big red optic narrows with a reticle around it, as he looks at Sandstorm's back. He pulls out his hulking drill harpoon, and attempts to plant it in Sandstorm's back, where his rotor meets his body. Combat: Crude misses Sandstorm with his Drill Harpoon attack!

Boomslang snaps the panel shut again, reaches for his bag of energon snacks and goes back to watching his proper kill zone. He certainly wouldn't want to miss the cleric's car by being distracted by the more interesting robot battle.

A good idea, but the big guy is a bit too slow in the execution to catch the wily Wrecker off his guard. Sandstorm squats a bit, and as the harpoon is thrust forward he ducks inside the larger Decepticon's reach, and swings a leg out to kick at his knee and trip him up while the big guy while he's off balance. Combat: Sandstorm strikes Crude with his Sweep Kick (Kick) attack!

Crude gets caught in the legs by the sweep, and falls over with a massive boom. Sand flies everywhere as he leaks oil everywhere, growling at Sandstorm. "You little pisser! I'm gonna rip your face off, then I'm gonna wear it on my ASS!" He points his hand at Sandstorm from his position on the ground, firing more napalm. Combat: Crude strikes Sandstorm with his Napalm Puker attack!

"Hah! Bigger they are, the harder the fall!" Then the naplam blast sends Sandstorm flying backwards into a stack of oil barrels, sending them clattering about. The Wrecker sits in the crushed pile a moment, rubbing his head while his scorched armor smokes. ".. Don't stop them from shootin' though." Kicks a barrel out of the way and gets up. By this point how much of a mess it'll make as oil is knocked out of the station and his opponent alike is the farthest thing on his mind. "Bite me, fatass," he retorts back, leveling his blaster and letting another stream of high velocity grit fly for Crude's form. Combat: Sandstorm strikes Crude with his Sandblaster Gun attack!

"I'm not fat! I'm...I'm...Fine, I'm fat! Big and disgusting! I DON'T DESERVE TO EAT!" Crude wails as he's shot with more sand. He climbs to his feet, and hurls his drill harpoon at Sandstorm again, a long tube trailing back to Crude. "I'm gonna make you pay for insulting my MANLY GIRTH!" Combat: Crude strikes Sandstorm with his Drill Harpoon attack!

Boomslang is concealed on a mountainrange overlooking the dusty plains, where he has been waiting for something with a rifle and the Cybertronian equivalent of a bag of sandwiches for a few days now. As it should happen, he's also in position to bear witness to Crude and Sandstorm's pitched battle in the oilfield. So far he's avoided direct involvement, but if more Autobots were to arrive...

Sounds like Sandstorm found a weak spot, mentally if not physically. Any more catcalls are cut short by the harpoon digging into his chassis with the screech of rending metal and a snarl of aggrivation from the Wrecker. "Okay, maybe pushed that a little too far," he snarls as he kneels, followed by another hiss as he grabs the harpoon and yanks it out again. Then uses his more defensive position to pull a small kit out of subspace, and use some of its stock to partially patch up the gaping gouge in his lower side.

Being a Wrecker and this involving giant robots in general, it probably involves liberal usage of duct tape. Combat: Sandstorm sets his defense level to Protected. Combat: Sandstorm quickly patches up some of his minor injuries.

Rising up through the Iranian 'plain', the twin drills till away the soil in clockwork precision timing. Those are soon followed by the large back section of the Drill Tank, as it lumbers up upon solid ground with a *THUD*. <> the vehicle chirps.

His attention focus' on the ruckus itself, Sandstorm mixing it up with a Decepticon. <> the Wrecker leader chastises. Combat: Impactor inspires Sandstorm with dramatic and majestic words! Combat: You feel more courageous!

Energen chugs through the tube, back to Crude, whose body lights up brightly along the various lights on his platform shoulders and hips. "Hahahaha! DELICIOUS! Now it's time to get UGLY!" He pulls on his harpoon to reel Sandstorm in, firing napalm from his left hand. "Burn, burn, BURRRRRRRN!" he screams madly.

Sandstorm cuts the last bit of 'bandage' with his knife and slaps it down, just in time to hear the familiar churn of drills and the bellowing voice of his commanding officer, and smirks a bit despite the 'encouragement'. "Happy to see you too, boss."

... reunion is going to have to wait though, as the creep shoots another one of those napalm blasts at him. "Oh no, not this time!" Sandstorm kicks one of the barrels into his hands and spins around, flinging it to intercept the blast. Or even make it blow up in the Decepticon's face!

Then grabs another one of the unbroken barrels and punchs open the tap. "The only thing more this party needs, is a kegger!" Hoists it overhead with one hand and chugs some of the crude down for a quick pick me up. The iranians can consider it payment for busting his chops trying to save their operation or something. Combat: Sandstorm takes extra time to steady himself. [Pass]

<> Impactor continues to chide, treads creeping softly albeit noisly across the ground. Targetting the oversized Decepticon with some forward auxiliary laser blasts. <> Combat: Drill Tank  strikes Crude with his PewPew! (Pistol) attack!

Crude's optic widens as the barrel explodes in his face. "SON OF A QUINTESSON!" he shrieks, sparking all over. He's beginning to get winded - at least he got to blow up the oil rig. Killing this Autobot will be the icing on the cake. Then, he gets shot with the pistol blasts. "You!" he shouts at Impactor, turning to face him. "It's time to ventilate your chassis, assis!" Combat: Crude misses Drill Tank  with his Drill Harpoon attack!

Boomslang chambers the tungsten-cored sabot round and adjusts for windage. He could probably take out Sandstorm with a clean hit... but Sandstorm is much less dangerous than Impactor. There's a very real chance that Impactor might cripple the big oil-rig Decepticon, or worse. Boomslang settles the reticle over Impactor's heavily armored side, waiting for him to turn or raise his arm in hopes of drilling him through the flank. Combat: Suddenly, Boomslang appears out of thin air! Combat: Sneak Attack!! Combat: Boomslang strikes Drill Tank  with his Overwatch Fire attack!

"Aaah, that's better." Followed by a *CRUNCH* as Sandstorm smashes the barrel against his forehead like a human would a beer can, then waves vagely across the area with it. "I was just out on patrol, and found him tryin' to smash the place up --" And then Boomslang pops up. "--Watch yer side!" Though the warning is likely too late. Damn stealthers.

Break time's over, back into action! .. and he's got the flattened barrel in his hand still. Hey, why not. He flings it at the larger Con like a frisbee, if nothing else to get his attention. Even a big tough mech like Impactor don't need two thugs beating on him. Combat: Sandstorm strikes Crude with his Deadly frisbee? (Punch) attack!

<> Impactor grumbles, dipping low under the earth to avoid the harpoon sent at him. Rising back up through the soil just as quickly as he went under, the Wrecker leader is caught unawares mid-transformation with a slug through the back shoulder. Spinning him around twice like a top, the Autobot Commando is quickly put directly into the dirt face down.

An astro-second or two pass by before Impactor stirs, managing to get his limbs beneath him and rise under the tremendous amount of pain. Shooting a glance back to where the shot 'seemed' to come from, the Wrecker leader switches to infrared to try and spot the sniper. "We've got a shooter out along that cliff Storm.." he trails, wincing at a nice sized leak of neon pink energon leaking out of the exit wound. "Crud, this one isn't dumb enough to leave an infrared trail." Impactor gruffs, commenting on Boomslang's effective counter measures.

As the Wrecker handbook suggests, when in doubt ... blast everything and let Primus sort it out. As such, the Wrecker leader charges up the main cannon on his shoulder and sends a volley of shots out at the mountain's ridge. The Drill Tank shifts and transforms, revealing the Wrecker leader Impactor! Combat: Impactor sets his defense level to Fearless. Combat: Impactor misses Boomslang with his Imp-Cannon Volley attack!

The improvised frisbee strikes Crude in the face, causing him to stumble back a step. "Hurgh! YOU AIN'T GOT NOTHIN' ON MAH STYLE, BOAH!" he shouts, and begins running at Sandstorm, his footfalls shaking the desert. He extends his arm, firing more napalm as he closes the distance between him and his foe. Combat: Crude misses Sandstorm with his Napalm Puker attack!

Boomslang ducks down behind the foothill just in time, chunks of rock and plumes of dirt blasting up all along the ridge as Impactor drives him back into cover with a thunderous barrage from that shoulder gun. Scurrying down the line of hills in a half-crouch, Boomslang edges out from behind a tall post-volcanic stack and squeezes off a quick shot from his rifle to try to get Impactor to keep his head down likewise, so that Boomslang can get some breathing room. Combat: Boomslang sets his defense level to Protected. Combat: Boomslang strikes Impactor with his Corner Shot attack! [Pulled -3]

Sandstorm leaps backwards and does a fancy handstand-flip to dodge, the plasma blasts tearing small craters in the sandy ground just inches from hitting him. Hand lands in a crouch, and winces a bit as the movement reminds him his side is only temporarily patched up, but its patched up enough. "Style? Since when did loud, obnoxious and dirty count as style?"

If one expected him to remain on the defensive though... Well, they don't know Sandstorm. He starts sprinting again, using his gun to pepper short bursts of fire at the Decepticon.. though it's not completely insane, as he makes a circling motion around the larger Decepticon instead of running directly at him. He may be reckless, but not foolish! Combat: Sandstorm sets his defense level to Aggressive. Combat: Sandstorm misses Crude with his Circle-strafing (Pistol) attack! Combat: Gained 1 energon.

Impactor is peppered by more incoming fire, although the Wrecker leader sees this coming and is able to avoid any major injuries. Wiping grime from his shoulder, Impactor peers towards Boomslang's position ... or what he thinks might be the Decepticon's position. Absent mindedly firing off a couple more potshots, Mr. Purple-Pants jogs closer towards Sandstorm. "Hey Storm, whadda think about runnin' this weasel out inta tha open?" he asides, trying to maintain focus on the sniper and coming counter attack. Combat: Impactor misses Boomslang with his Wrecker Standard Issue Pistol Laser! (Laser) attack!

Boomslang pulls a silver canister about the size of his clenched fist off one of his hardpoints and loads it into the underslung launcher on his rifle. Revealing as little of himself as possible to Impactor's laser fire while working closer to the battle, he kneels to fire it over a low hill with a low *foomp* noise.

The grenade arcs up into the air, discards its exterior shell with a cracking sound, and hovers in midair balancing on four small jets while it scans the battlefield with a rotating laser... searching for a target to descend and latch onto! Combat: Boomslang strikes Impactor with his K-27 "Drillhead" Self-Directed Munition attack!

The shots bounce off Crude's hull, not striking any weak points. "Hahahah, I'm a space pimp! Now, I'm gonna put you IN YOUR PLACE!" He lashes out with his leg with a big, vaulting kick, attempting to stomp Sandstorm to the ground and hold him under his huge, tri-toed foot.% Combat: Crude misses Sandstorm with his Kick attack!

"I hate to admit it, but he's a bit outta my blaster's range," Sandstorm comments over his shoulder. "Little busy here!" The more nimble Wrecker manages to dart out of the way of the attempt to get him under his heel. "Typical 'con, talk alot but ain't sayin' nothin' important." He winds halfway around, and then attempts to jump on Crude's back, the knife flicking back into his grasp moments before he attempts to plunge it into the creep's neck joints. Combat: Sandstorm strikes Crude with his Going for the Throat attack! Combat: You are running low on energon!

You receive a radio message from Boomslang: That's a nice touch with a blade.

Explosions abound all around the Wrecker leader, sending him flying backwards end over end. Catching himself upright in mid-air, Impactor charges back forward and toward the location of the attack. Scanning the immediate area where he though Boomslang popped out from, he takes a moment to 'catch his breath'. "Yeah kiddo, but yer alt mode is a tad bit faster than mine." Combat: Impactor sets his defense level to Protected. Combat: Impactor analyzes Boomslang for weaknesses.

Crude flails uselessly as Sandstorm jumps on his back. "Argh! STOPPIT!" He gets his neck cut open, which gushes oil all over Sandstorm. "This is lame. I'll get you next time, Autobutt!" He goes airborne, attempting to slowly fly away. Combat: Crude begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from Boomslang, Sandstorm, and Impactor

Boomslang pauses for a brief radio conversation, then folds up his rifle and stows it on its hardpoint. When next the Autobots see him he's blasting off from behind the foothills and rocketing almost straight up under full military power. In mere seconds he's little more than a glint in the sky. With the usual ratcheting sound, Boomslang spins and flips and turns into a fighter jet. Combat: F/A-18 Super Hornet  begins retreating, outrunning all pursuit.

Sandstorm laughs a bit as the big guy starts to take off. He spares the snappy retorts otherwise, save raising his free hand to give Crude a mock salute .... then pulls it back and turns his hand to make it the infamous 'one finger salute' the humans taught him before letting go and falling backwards off his backside.

The Wrecker free falls for a bit, still laughing before he finally transforms and hovers back towards the ground to properly slow his descent. Jumping to the air, Sandstorm twists around rapidly, rotors whirl to life and he takes off in his helicopter mode. Combat: Sikorsky S-61R Copter <Sandstorm> strikes Crude with his Sometimes the best insult is no words at all (Grab) attack!

Impactor relaxes when they take off, then smirks at Sandstorm's 'one gun salute'. "Fer all the blasted glitch weary cycles, whatta bunch ah cowards. Wakin' me up outta a rest ta come and shoot atta buncha rocks??" he chastises their wake, vigorously shaking his harpoon hand up at the sky.

Sandstorm transforms back to robot mode once he reachs the ground, landing with a light thump next to the Wrecker leader, and kicks a bit of still smoldering wreckage out of the way. And then smirks. "Nuttin' like having to come out to pound some sense into some of those punks to work off a hangover, eh?"

"What's ah hangover?" Impactor laughs, clasping a hand over Sandstorm's shoulder. Sandstorm laughs a bit at the reply, even though he staggers a bit from the slap and winces from the wound still in his side. Then remembers Impactor got blasted like that, too. "Hold still boss, after showin' up to save my aft I don't want ya fallen apart on the way home on me!" He's still got some of that patch (and duct tape) from the kit when he patched himself a quick fix, and stoops down a little to slap it over the gaping gunshot hole. Might as well make use of it while he's got the boost to do so. Combat: Sandstorm quickly patches up some of Impactor's minor injuries.

"Why that reminds me of ah story 'bout Accilade-6, the acid pits were so toxic that we had ta duct tape our entire EVA protection suits..." Impactor trails, sauntering back to his shuttle.

Sandstorm laughs a bit more as he follows, not feeling like flying home himself at this point. Besides, these stories were amusing... though in Sandstorm's case, half the amusement was finding how they change every time...