Tokyo raid



Transformers 2005 - Monday, May 15, 2006, 5:06 PM

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Tokyo

Translating to 'eastern capital', Tokyo is an ancient city, built on low plains and nearby upland hills. A world wholesale center, merchandise from all over the world is distributed here. Not only a center for distribution, but of manufacturing, finance, and business as well. The buildings range from a few wooden Japanese-style buildings to stone and brick structures of the last century to modern steel and concrete skyscrapers, nothing more than a century old for these buildings weren't built for durability. Interspaced between the manmade buildings and streets are small parks with lovely Japanese gardens. Tokyo's most noticeable feature, of course, are the people, eight million of them, that flood the streets.

Room Contents:

Smokescreen

Exo-Suit 

Rodimus Prime

Death-Grey Tetrajet

F-35B 

Terran Standard Troops #5544

Michael Briar

Obvious exits:

Fly  leads to Skies Above the Northwest Pacific.

Out  leads to Honshu.

Michael Briar talks with a few of the EDC troops stationed outside the Ginza fusion power plant. EDC troops, a small contingent of them, have taken position outside the power plant. In case anything 'bad' happens. Think GI-Joe watching for the Viper. EDC Warthogs and Ares exo's are standing watch as well as armed troopers. Michael isn't taking for granted anything this time around. He talks to the sergeant in charge of the troops and orders him to get some coffee, or something like that. He turns, in a freshly pressed EDC uniform while he waits for the autobots to arrive, if they will at all. The plants large double doors are open showing the inside of the reactor which thrums with power ready to be unleased. A jury rigged setup of controls sit outside the doors, just ready for someone to start the plant going. A podium and speaker system has been set up. Also, the press is out in force for this. Lots of photographers and whatnot, but they're being forced to keep their distance.

F-35B , honestly, doesn't care that there's a truckload of energy to be obtained. She doesn't care that it smells like a trap. She's far more interested in the fact that Autobots have been invited. It's funny. Lord Scourge thinks that this task will force her to prove her loyalty to the cause? The only thing it's done is made Catechism more concerned about pointlessly hurting Autobots than actually doing things useful to the cause, like raiding. If Catechism realised this paradox, she'd probably... probably have a small screaming fit. As it is, the JSF flies in, winging it hard and fast to the power plant, not caring if she has back-up. If the Autobots kill her, they'll at least be nicer about it than Scourge would. Catechism is always optimistic!

Rodimus Prime approaches the power plant facility, never one to turn down a good publicity appearance -- or to be around to protect the site of a potential Decepticon raid. When the two happen to coincide, the better. As he walks towards Briar's location, he is followed by a wizened old Japanese man in a Judo gi tied with a black belt. "Yes, yes, I know," Rodimus responds with a hint of exasperation in his voice, waving a hand in the air. "'Giri', the 'Burden Hardest to Bear'. You give me this lecture every time I come to Tokyo." "Such impudence from a student, Rodimus-san. You shame me," the old man responds, hanging his head to show his overwhelming disappointment. "Student? I don't recall signing up for any of your classes. I'm good at throwing people around just fine." He cuts himself off, putting on a smile for a crowd of high school kids, all armed with cellphone cameras and clicking away.

Very high above all this is Fleet. He's got long range sensors, and darn it, he's going to use them before diving headfirst into things. "A pretty large showing of the EDC," he reports to his fellow Decepticons, "but I'm not seeing any... damnit," he swears as Catechism flies right in without waiting for his report. And then Rodimus Prime shows up, although it's a bit too late with that. The Seeker sighs. "Why do I even bother?" he groans as he starts to dive after his Executive Officer.

Of course, amongst the gathered EDC troopers, there's also a smattering of Autobots...Autobots like Smokescreen! He steps in behind Rodimus, occasionally waving to the Japanese press (at least, he thinks they're the press), soaking up the flashbulbs and attention therof with a grin. He does, however, make it a point not to step on Rodimus' guru.

With the classic sound the Cyberlion's body unfolds into the stocky form of the Predacon Commander Razorclaw.

Razorclaw is flying way behind Fleet, following the pair out of sheer curiosity and in order to gain more information about this fusion plant and who knows maybe maul some Autobots in the process.

Michael Briar looks over towards the press who's making room for Rodimus and company. He waves to Prime and gestures for him to come over. Over the noise of the people he says, "Rodimus, glad you could make it. We're just about to start." Michael smiles and clicks on a walkie talkie attached to his belt. "All units, the autobots have arrived, standard positions. We'll be starting in a few minutes." Then he connects the device to his belt before walking towards the podium.

"Ladies, Gentlement, EDC, Autobots, and the press. Behind me is the future of tokoyo and the world. With Fugiyama inc and Bryant technologies...and a large ahem, boost from the autobots, this fusion power plant will power over two million homes and factories in japan. This is but the first step in providing cheap and easily accessable power for the public to use instead of relying on our quickly dwindling oil supplies. I've asked the autobots here to do the honors of activating this power plant. I'm sure you're all eager to watch the fireworks, so Rodimus..." he pats the console next to the podium, "..if you'll come up here and do the honors?" The flash bulbs begin going off all around Michael and Rodimus about this time.

"You know, Rodimus- there was this time a Japanese scientist thought it'd be a good idea to build a giant robot Ninja..." he trails off, then shakes his head. Oh, those whacky Japanese! Even still, it'd seem that everything is going along just fine...

OR IS IT?

Rodimus Prime folds his metal hands in front of him, assuming his place next to Briar in front of the crowd. "Oh, I... Wouldn't miss it for the world, General," Rodimus replies with a coy smile, his crotchety guru wandering away. "I will see you again, Rodimus-san, when you have learned humility." Rodimus appears to have not heard the old man's invective, or he's choosing to ignore it in the face of a diplomatic faction. He looks pensive as the situation develops: podium, red button, whacky device. The last time this happened, Tulsa was nearly destroyed by an F-5 tornado. "What's the saying, Briar?" Rodimus mutters, stepping up to the podium. "'Lightning doesn't strike twice?'" He hesitates, before bending forward and pressing his index finger on the button.

F-35B  puts on the power, aiming to ruin their lovely little ceremony. The roar of her engines should be a dead give-away, so she flies in as far as she can. Then, Catechism transforms and drops, hovering a few meters over the ground. She recites, sounding bored, "We claim this for the Decepticons, yadda yadda, you know the drill."

F-35, Marine Corps variant, transforms into robot form. Catechism's feet unfold, her arms unfold out of her body, her nosecone rotates through her body and ends up on her shoulders to expose her face, and her wings rotate into position.

Death-Grey Tetrajet is NOT so foolish as to believe that they're actually going to get energon out of this 'raid.' There's too many Autobots, and too few of them. No, Fleet knows full well that this whole excercise is an attempt on Catechism's part to redeem herself. He's mostly along to pick up the pieces, if there are any left.

The pyramid jet unfolds into a robot that doesn't look like it should be walking, much less flying, and fixes his blackened stare on those before him. For the moment, he's silent, not even offering similar threats - might as well play drone-zombie-lackey for awhile.

The power plants internal machines begin to thum with more power. As they grow louder and with a higher pitch, all the instruments on the panel begin to spike. To demonstrate the power output on the plant, a light attached to the power lines leading out from the powerplant lights up. Then flickers, but suddenly goes brighter and brighter before burning out and exploding. Michael looks wide eyed at the sparking socket and smiles, "Well folks, you wanted power...there you go." saying while gesturing towards the light. Or what is left of it. The humans gathered all cheer and cameras flash. He looks at the readings for each reactor that is putting out 1.21 terrawatts of power.

Razorclaw watches the two jets dive down towards the autobots without hesitation. .oO(Tsk Tsk Tsk...Not waiting for the right moment to strike. They will get swarmed by security.)Oo. The Predacon slightly alters his course away from his fellow Decepticons. Trying to find some sort of blind spot to get closer before being spotted.

Smokescreen lets out a little 'whew' at that. At least it's not bringing down natural disasters...just attracting Cybertonian ones. He pauses, then glances over at the Decepticons, pulling his rifle from subspace, even as the Japanese citizens scatter with an efficiency practiced from countless Kaiju battles.

"Do you honestly think you'll actually get away with this?" he asks, not pointing the weapon at the 'cons...yet.

Rodimus Prime doesn't have too much time to celebrate the non-appearance of a tornado, though he looks about as relieved as Smokescreen that nothing bad happens after he pushes the button. That lasts for all of a second until the two Decepticons arrive, and Rodimus does as his Autobot ancestors have done for millennia when Decepticons appear -- get ready to fight. He lowers his stance, snapping up one arm and aiming his wrist cannons at Catechism. "Haven't you read my tech-spec, Decepticon? I shoot first and ask questions later!" Unlike Smokescreen, Rodimus doesn't have much restraint, his wrist cannons discharging crackling yellow beams of circuit-neutralizing photons.

Michael Briar says, "God damn it, no! Common, just once have one of these things go smoothly!" He clicks on his radio, "EDC, get these civilians out of here! Vasque, Markus, Avery, give them covering fire!" He points towards the three exo-armors who transform into robot mode with a small jump and burst of air from their engines. Their rifles fire out red lances of energy towards the cons while each says over the radio, "We're on it General!" Most of their shots are going wide, until they actually focus on one of the cons for a moment. Fleet it seems is the unlucky one this time. The rest of the EDC troopers move out to push the press, who's more interested in the fight than fleeing, towards waiting cars and vehicles.

The soldiers of Terran Standard Troops #5544 attack Fleet under orders from Michael Briar.

The soldiers of Terran Standard Troops #5544 hoist their weapons and move into battle formation.

The soldiers of Terran Standard Troops #5544 attack Fleet under orders from Michael Briar.

Terran Standard Troops #5544 misses Fleet with its Punch attack.

Catechism is hit. She's out before she can say anything. She falls to the ground. It's rather a waste, isn't it? But such is war, in its sheerest simplicity. A waste. She didn't even get to mention that she didn't want to be recovered, that what she'd be returning to would be worse than... all this. The threat of capture. The threat of being recycled by angry Japanese. It's all nothing compared to Scourge, really.

The joys of anti-gravs make for a silent approach. The Predacon curves around is silently swooping down towards Smokescreen's back. Without a noise save for all the screams ofthe civilians who see his menacing shape closing onto the unspecting heroic Autobot inches away from a most painful experience. Razorclaw sees Catechism go down faster than a speeding bullet. .oO(Would they have believed me if I told them it would turn out like this?)Oo.

Fleet manages to deftly avoid the EDC's cover fire, performing a few twists and jinks that are really fairly impressive in a dead guy. At first these are enough to distract him from the fact that Catechism has just gone down, and so he's at a decent height when he finally realizes it. He sighs and makes a dive for her, not returning fire.

Oh, and for the record, yes, Fleet would have believed you, Razorclaw. He had predicted it himself. 

Smokescreen just shakes his head as Catechism gets a-shot to pieces. "Well, that was easy. Think there's more of them?" as he asks this, Smokescreen rests his rifle back against his shoulder, muzzle of the weapon pointing directly behind him...right at Razorclaw's face.

Now, whether or not this is a matter of coincidence or a cunning plan(tm) on the Tactician's part remains to be seen. Even still, y'know- gun in face.

Razorclaw sees Smokescreen move his rifle to rest on his shoulder with the muzzle directly towards him. Razor follows his instincts drops to on knee and charges Smokescreen from behind trying to plant a vicious elbow at the base of the Autobot's 'spine'.

Rodimus Prime lowers the smoking chrome barrels on his wrist, watching Catechism ragdoll and plummet to the ground. "Okay, shooting done. Now the questions: What in Charr were they thinking?" He doesn't seem too concerned with Fleet, now that he's occupied with dealing with a disabled comrade, his optics sweeping the area for other Decepticons or cute Japanese civilians in danger. "Smokescreen," he says, turning his head to the side to try to get a glimpse of the other Autobot officer out of the corner of his optic. "Any sign of a flanking maneuv--" he cuts himself off, catching Razorclaw's pounce just as it occurs.

Michael Briar seeks cover for himself as well. His suit's sitting across the field near where the EDC was guarding the building. Briar however, was far away from that, and isn't near his suit at the moment. Michael runs for one of the warthogs and says, "Markus, transform and get me to my suit, I can't do much here!" The two other warthogs continue firing on the cons. They continue firing on Fleet, one lifting their arm and firing an arm laser while their hand weapon recycles. Markus's suit salutes and shifts forms quickly. Michael climbs up on the transforming Warthog before it takes off across the field.

The soldiers of Terran Standard Troops #5544 attack Fleet under orders from Michael Briar.

Terran Standard Troops #5544 misses Fleet with its Laser attack.

You strike Smokescreen with Vicious Elbow!.


 * CLANG!* Smokescreen topples over as Razorclaw barrels into him.

"Right here, sir." he mutters, landing in a pile-o-autobot. Thankfully, he's mostly still in one piece. He struggles with the Predacon, knowing full well that his opponent has him bested in melee combat...though that doesn't mean Smokescreen is without tricks of his own! In the tangle of robotic limbs, Smokey punches forward with his right arm, a punch-blade snapping out at JUST the right time! Snazzy.

Smokescreen strikes you with Snikt! for 6 points of damage.

Fleet has just reached Catechism when the troops fire again... his fingers do no more than brush her when weapons fire forces him away from his comrade. The zombie-Seeker's expression twists into a broken snarl as he darts back upwards. "You have already denied her the trophy she needs to escape Scourge's wrath... and now you'll deny me the chance to retrieve her, human? Enough! Perhaps I can retrieve a trophy of my own, small and organic!" With that, Fleet zips after the commander of the EDC, dodging laser fire as he flies low over the battlefield, closing quickly... and then attempting to make a grasp for the running human himself.

Fleet succeeds in grasping Michael Briar, throwing him off-balance.

"Good," Rodimus growls, watching Smokescreen manage to land a blow on Razorclaw. "Keep him busy!" He turns, raising his hand to track Fleet with his barrels as he swoops down to snatch Briar. "Decepticon, let go of the human or you've got an all-expenses paid vacation to the scrap heap!" Crouching, he props his elbow with his other hand, barrels tracking Fleet as he flies. His targeting visor slides down over his optics, his face scowling with concentration. A single barrel glows, firing off a low power warning shot towards Fleet's back.

Razorclaw tries to maintain a grip on the Autobot but alas Smokescreen manages to turns around and slice the predacon up IN THE FACEPLATE! Razorclaw makes a grab for Smokey's wrist to prevent further slashing and tries to punch him square in the jaw. "Pretty slick but you will need more than that to defeat me."

You strike Smokescreen with Swift Punch!.

"OOOF!" And so, Smokescreen is whacked right in the face. Oooh, that's gonna hurt come tomorrow. Wait, it hurts right about NOW. "Got it!' he manages, struggling in Razorclaw's grip.

Even still, the tactician allows himself a little smirk. "Oh, I'm just full of surprises, really." with that, Smokescreen jabs a his fingers into the mouth of Razorclaw's lion-head-breastplate...and then there's the machine guns IN those fingers...

You evade Smokescreen's Fifty Caliber Fingertips! attack.

Rodimus Prime misses Fleet with his Single Barrel Photon Blast attack.

Michael Briar gets snatched off the exo-armor. Michael screams in surprise, the large fist encircling around him and pulling him off the armor like pulling a piece of paper off of a desk. The humans squirms and struggles in the fist, but knows he's caught. He reaches into his coat and pulls out his .45 officer side arm. He pulls back the cocking mechanism on his desert eagle and says, "I'm not going out without a fight!" Then puts a cap or two in Fleet. The exo-armor that was transporting him transforms and draws his rifle pointing it at Fleet. "General Briar! Crudocon, drop Michael, NOW!" He waves a hand towards the EDC and Autobot troops, "Hold your fire, they've got the General!"

Michael Briar strikes Fleet with .45 desert eagle.

It's one of those moments that seems to drag on forever. A life in the balance, and all time seems to stand still. This is, of course, all due to dramatic effect, and has nothing to do with long paged conversations working out specific details and other such nonesense. The shot flies for Fleet's back... it looks like it's going to hit... he twists, and instead it just leaves a blackened trail across his back. Then the flesh creature stings him, and he growls low in both engines and vocalizer. "Foolish flesh creature, don't you realize all I have to do is squeeze, and I'll finish you?" And he does squeeze... just a little, though not enough to do serious damage. "Where as I've already been beyond death's door!"

Razorclaw notices Smokescreen's attempt at bypassing most of the Predacon's armor. Razor rolls off the Autobot and goes for a swift kick to the mouth. "Maybe that will shut up that smart mouth of yours." After that Razorclaw backs away just enough to give him some room to work with.

You strike Smokescreen with Kick to the face!.

Michael Briar screams in pain from the squeeze. To a human, it hurt. So 'that's' why they're called a squishy! In Michael's flailing and screaming, he drops his side arm which clatters to the ground. Michael falls forward moaning softly in Fleet's fist. It seems that knocked the fight out of him.

Rodimus Prime jerks his elbow up as he fires his single shot, but it goes wide... It's just too hard to hit Fleet and -not- hit Briar at the same time. "Of all the smeggin'..." He begins to curse, getting desperate as Fleet begins to fly off with the General. Vaulting off of the stage, he dashes towards where Catechism lies cratered in the asphalt, springing on the unconscious Seeker and planting a boot on her chest. Shoving his gunbarrels into her mouth, he yells out with his vocalizer at full volume: "FLEET! LET HIM GO OR I SEND YOUR FRIEND TO ROBOT HELL!"


 * CLANG!*

"Ow." Duly stomped, Smokescreen rolls away from Razorclaw- only to get an optic full of Fleet taking hold of the important general. Oh dear, this won't do- this won't do at all! And so, The tactician glances between Rodimus and Fleet- hostages? Jeez- even Rod should know better than that. And so, he holds a palm out to Razorclaw in the classic 'hold' gesture...whether or not he'll follow it is another matter entirely.

Smokescreen keeps his optics on Fleet, however...and there's always those nice shoulder rockets of his, too, which just HAPPEN to be pointed in that direction.

Razorclaw hears Rodimus threaten Catechism's life but then again the threat is directed at Fleet. Surely he does not expect the predacon to actually back down because a seeker's life is on the line. Razor's attention returns to Smokescreen's 'Hold' gesture and ignores it. The predacon commander dashes at the autobot trying to wrap his hands around the back Smokey's neck and swing him around into a nearby parked car.

Razorclaw succeeds in grasping Smokescreen, throwing him off-balance.

"Right now, he's all that keeps /me/ from returning there, Rodimus!" Fleet shouts back. "Besides, I don't think he'd find it very comfortable if I let him go from here." An unpleasant grin creeps across Fleet's black-eyed expression. "In fact, if I know Catechism at all, she'd be proud to lay down her life to see the end of one who's given us so much trouble. Where as I... I'd prefer to live, and I fully believe you'd kill both myself and Catechism the moment I released this one. So I think I'll keep him. Catechism can die for the Empire, as she's always wanted to, and I will continue to live for it, as I've always wanted to... and we come away with the trophy we came here for to begin with." The Seeker offers a salute with his free hand. "Good cycle, Rodimus."

Fleet begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from Razorclaw, Smokescreen, Exo-Suit , Rodimus Prime.

"Oh no you-" and then there's the matter of Razorclaw tossing him about. "OOOF!" and so, Smokey is shaken- just enough so the chaff rockets that he fires off at JUST the right moment go careening off course- exploding far enough from Fleet to give him an annoying little tinge in his circuitry, but little more. Curses!

Rodimus Prime, of course, isn't going to execute a helpless opponent, regardless of the stakes. It goes against the tech-spec! Seriously, read his tech-spec. He grits his jaw modules together, slamming one fist on the ground in frustration, adding some additional spider-web cracks in the street next to Catechism's crater. Gripping Catechism by the throat, he mutters, shaking her slack head back and forth. "I hope you're worth something to your friends..." Lifting his optics, he checks on Smokescreen -- catching him being chucked into a parked car. "This has gone on long enough." He extends a hand, his black rifle appearing in his palm in a flash of subspace nergy. The barrel glows, then fires, discharging a blast of energy towards the Predacon Commander.

Rodimus Prime strikes you with Photon Eliminator for 15 points of damage.

Michael Briar flies off with Fleet, still tucked in the seeker's fist. He's half out of it, the shock of his whole body being squeezed still affecting him. Oh don't worry though, Briar will be his moody self in an hour or so. He's just a rag doll right now. Maybe the cons have a good cafateria? Or they can even steal food for Briar?

Fleet lets out a roar of victorious laughter as he departs the scene, with little more than the faint sting given by the flesh creature's weapon. He pops Briar into his cockpit as he transforms, and quickly rockets out of sight.

Michael Briar has left.

Fleet soars upward into the sky.

Fleet has left.

Razorclaw gets nailed in the back which for a second make a knee buckle. A quick glance at the source...Rodimus. A pristine Rodimus and a slightly beaten up Smokescreen along with a small EDC contingent. Granted the odds are still with him but he would likely come out of this severely damaged. The juice is not worth the squeeze in this case. No energon or territory is on the line. The Predacon transforms and makes his escape down the Tokyo streets leaving his claw marks in the pavement. Picture a 15-20' lion running and I mean HAULIN AFT down a busy street. A few cars gets flipped over lots of screaming and a few traffic lights hit him in the mouth which serves as a minor annoyance.

With traditional noise Razorclaw's body folds into a massive Cyberlion.

Razorclaw begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from Exo-Suit .

Smokescreen staggers a bit, and then glances over at Rodimus. "Alright, this is bad." he concludes, brushing some broken asphalt off of himself- 'Battle Damage' is hardly his style, really.

"...You can make the report."

Rodimus Prime 'holsters' his rifle in another flash of energy, crossing his arms over his chest and watching Razorclaw bolt off. "Deal. But keep your schedule wide open, buddy. This is only the beginning."

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