EDC Autobot Boot Camp

Transformers 2005 - Saturday, October 05, 2002, 7:00 PM

&lt;Public&gt; Michael Briar still needs someone to be or puppet a drill instructor too. :)

New York is more than just the Big Apple. A great valley, formed by Lakes Champlain and George and the Hudson River, crosses the state from north to south. To the west of the lakes are the wild and rugged Adirondack Mountains. Most of the southern part of the state is part of the Allegheny plateau, which rises in the southwest to the Catskill Mountains. Inland are pine forests, cool mountain lakes and streams. A rich agricultural area, it has orchards, vineyards, and farmers' markets along the roadsides. To the north are rugged mountains, immense forests, resort towns, and the breathtaking splendor of Niagara Falls.

Contents: Michael Briar 2020 Toyota Supra 2 Obvious exits: Fly &lt;Up&gt; leads to Skies above Eastern United States. Out &lt;O&gt; leads to Middle Atlantic States. New York City &lt;NYC&gt;

Kevin arrives from the Middle Atlantic State region. Kevin has arrived. Kevin beeps.

Sgt. Frank DuMaine spits his cigar out. "Allright where is that bunch of sucks that signed up for that crap ?"

Ambulance (First Aid) arrives from the Middle Atlantic State region. Ambulance (First Aid) has arrived.

The scene, West Point in the front gates. It's a cold new York state day right after a ton of snow feel. Troops are marching about while a few are drilling in the snow on the grounds inside the gates. A new class, a very odd class indeed is slowly assembling to go through the riggers of officer training.

First Aid just looked at you.

Private Kevin is standing about in uniform clutching a tupperware, spooning curried sprouts into his mouth. His mum made them for him.

Michael Briar is standing near the gate in full EDC uniform, no lab coat for him this day. His face is one of fear and apprehension, "Ok, I did this because?" he mumbles as he breathes on his hands to keep warm.

Sgt. Frank DuMaine is standing at the top of the stairs wearing a drill instructor hat and mirrored sunglasses. The instructor looks down at all the little green maggots running around in the snow.

Private Kevin stares over at Briar's warm hands as he rubs his own. .oO(Hmmmmm)Oo.

Sgt. Frank DuMaine blows his whistle "FAAALLL IIIN! Hurry up ya ape faced mothers and form some decent ranks!"

Private Kevin snaps his head round and is about to scream "I vill never bow to you American pig-dog" in his Belgishstan accent, when he drops a sprout on the floor, and falls to his knees, scrabbling in the snow and mud, tears beginning to well up

Ambulance (First Aid) rolls into the area and stops at the front gate for identification and verification. After a few seconds and a brief conversation with the guard, First Aid is allowed through. The Protectobot passes through the gates and transforms. First Aid is about to head over to the Sergeant to ask what he can do to help out. Squinting at the rather unique Private, First Aid shakes his head and leans over towards Briar, who's also near the gates, "Heya, Mr. Briar. Am I late?" The white ambulance folds up into the Protectobot known as First Aid.

Michael Briar flinches at the sound of the whistle and looks around to fall in. With all the snow he can't see the line! Mike looks franticly around, "Autobots...where are all the autobots? I was told there'd be autobots!"

Michael Briar Standing at only 5' 11" this human is fast and wiry. His eyes, colored a bright light steelblue, show a calm order about them despite his face showing a nervous twitch and always seems to be alert and on edge. Stringy brown hair tops off his head that is cut short with a few points of hair lifting off from the rest. Like he's been around one too many energy converters. Covering his narrow frame is a typical dark blue EDC uniform with 'Lt. Briar' stitched on one of the pockets. Black boots, polished to a shine covers his feet with a belt of some type. A slim and narrow hand is shown on the left and a metal hand is attached to the right whirring slightly whenever it moves.

Michael Briar sighs after he hears those soothing words, "Thank god first Aid, you made it. Thought I'd have to go through this alone.." He grins and says, "Sorry EDC had you guys do this...they thought it'd be good for morale."

Private Kevin pockets his precious sprout, and moves to the lineup, rummaging around in his pant since the sprout is too cosily-warm... s sssss

Sgt. Frank DuMaine walks down the steps to inspect the ranks. The instructor stops infront of Briar and sizes him up. "When the last time you got a haircut punk ?" He looks down at the tag that says 'Lt. Briar'. "A lieutenant huh ? What is that your brother's uniform ? You don't look like an LT to me. You look more like a McD-LT."

Michael Briar blinks and sands up straight, his hair flopping slightly, "Yes sir...er...no sir! I'm with the EDC out of Alameda." A slight quiver runs through his lips as he gets ready for the bitching of his life.

First Aid frowns behind his mask as Sergeant DuMaine starts barking out insults. He quickly gets into line with the others - yeah, he's huge compared to the rest of the people here - and looks down at DuMaine, "Hey, now whoa, sir. Surely Mr. Briar wouldn't steal his brother's uniform." He's not used to the idea of a rigid military structure.

Private Kevin pauses to twirl his Belgish moustache before saluting. The fools!

You say, "Alameda ? Sounds like Alabama. Don't tell it's one of them places with 250 thousands inhabitants and one family tree." Looking up at First Aid "I was told I would have a weird class...Never thought it would be THAT weird." Simply ignoring the autobot's comment the instructor makes his way to Private Kevin "And you...Private Kevin. What do you hope to learn here ?""

Private Kevin He's lean, he's mean, and he's from Belgishstan! EeEee

Private Kevin looks up in slight panic, sharp Belgishstan accent showing. "I... hope zu learn your imperialistic yankee mil-.... HUMBLENESS YES"

First Aid coughs, certain that the Sergeant simply didn't hear him. He raises his usually soft voice to what might actually be average, "Uh... sir? Mr..." He squints at the name-tag, "Mr. DuMaine? It really /is/ Alameda. Not Alabama. I can personally vouch for it." He's still confused, as, c'mon, surely the Sergeant /knows/ that already. He squints at Private Kevin and then whispers to Briar, "Is... is this /normal/?"

Sheng arrives from the Middle Atlantic State region. Sheng has arrived.

Michael Briar glances up at First Aid and grimaces at the question. He looks forward and whispers, "First Aid be quiet or we'll be cleaning out toilets." He looks forward, eyes locked on some far away crow cawing as if laughing at the group.

Sgt. Frank DuMaine looks up at the medic "Allright listen Red Cross. This is a military training facility, not some sunday afternoon bridge tournament. Rule #1 Unless I ask to be questionned, you do not question me got that ? Rule #2 Excessive breaking of rule #1 will result in my foot up your...whatever you use to...you know...Ah screw it. Just stick to the rules."

Private Kevin strokes his chin and looks at the sgt, wondering... stuff. Belgish stuff. How utterly fiendish!

A gold hovertruck with matching Autobot symbols drives into view. Reaching a reasonble distance from the impromtu boot camp, the gold hovertruck transforms in a flurry of gold to the Alteronian warrior, Sheng. She begins to walk towards the group, pausing at the edge, not wanting to impose...

First Aid's optics widen as Briar asks him to be quiet. He sighs and trembles for a moment at the human's harsh words. Gawd, he's goin got be eaten alive when the Sergeant gets around to him. He looks off into the distance as Briar does, but finds himself glancing this way and that until DuMaine addresses him. He swallows - yeah, I know he's a robot - and hesitates before answering in a weak voice. "Y... Y... Yes sir, Mr. DuMaine sir. I understand." He goes back to looking straight ahead.

"Pardon me...?" the gold femme monotones in her harmonic voice from where she's standing off on the sidelines...

Sgt. Frank DuMaine looks up at Sheng "What can do I for you Threepio ?"

Fliptop arrives from the Middle Atlantic State region. Fliptop has arrived.

Sheng says, "Hot Spot asked for me to come out here for the... boot camp?" she glances at the humans and Autobots present, then looks back to the Sgt. It's fairly obvious that Hot Spot didn't tell her much about what's going on here..."

Fliptop stands off to the side, with a slackened stance, as befits the minor Transformer. He still wears various 'unassimilated' portions of armor from being repaired from last night's brawl.

Michael Briar's eyes start to wonder though, sadly his training isn't what it used to be. He looks over at the sarge and Sheng to crack a smile and snort a little in a laugh at the mention of 3po.

Private Kevin takes out a notebook, looks about, and starts to write and draw as everyone talks

Sgt. Frank DuMaine looks at Sheng with a puzzeled expression "Hot Spot ? Sounds like some topless bar in Florida. Whatever ya this is the boot camp. You entered the right gigantic military complex cuz it's like we have a buncha them lying around. Well enough chit chat, if this keeps up I'll turn into a chick and have the irresistible urge to shop for shower curtains. Now get your hides or plating inside class room 104." With that the sarge leads the way to the classroom.

First Aid didn't find that Threepio comment very funny at all! Well OOCly I did, but ICly that was just downright mean. Just what kind of armed forces do the humans /have/ here?! They're ruled by an oppressive cruel dictator who insults them. "How do you /stand/ this?" He whispers to Briar, certain he can't hear the huge robot's super-loud whispers. "Prime wouldn't treat us like this..."

Sheng walks up to First Aid and puts a hand on his shoulder for a moment, then shakes her head. "Prime may not have, but most of the high ranking officers I've served under train fighters like this. You have to be harsh. If you aren't the first deaths hit them HARD... I've had worse then being called names, first Aid." the femme follows the sargent, falling into her usual military stride.

The sarge walks down the halls to the designated 'classroom' which is a modified gymnasium to accomodate the cybertronians.

First Aid follows DuMaine, but nods at Sheng, "Great. A human version of Blades. Primus, this /can't/ get any worse than it already is."

Michael Briar eeks and looks forward and heads into class room 104. He looks behind towards the cybertronians and nods in agreement to Sheng's words.

Fliptop smirks and merely folds his arms, not entirely getting the Threepio comment himself, but still, its funny. He begins to follow the seargeant. He does not have a military stride, but walks with a certain amount of natural stealth that suits him, his feet making barely a clank with each step. "Yeah, right..."

Private Kevin skips along with the group, every so often blowing his nose or taking a few photos. For his mum, probably

Sheng makes a mental note to stay close to first Aid so she can try and help him. Medics aren't trained the same as low level fighters after all.

First Aid got all the training everyone else did. He's just a big wimp.

EDC mechanics are on the same level, but Briar wants more than just being a monkeywrench, which is why he's here. He marches with as much precision as he can and goes into the gym. He takes a seat and looks forward, trembling a bit but by the looks of things he is getting used to the yelling.

Once everyone sits down or finds some comfortable way to listen to the class, the instructor grabs the program "Allright you apes signed up for...leadership. Oh boy I'm gonna kill that prick who told me I would be teaching survival. Allright allright. First of all, let me introduce myself. I am Sgt. Frank DuMaine. You may call me 'Sir', 'Sarge', 'Instructor' or 'God'. (From the sound of that last one you can tell he was serious) They chose me to give this class because I have experience and I know stuff. Stuff I will try to teach. But leadership is not something that can be taught easily. It's not like learning how to drive or how to put on a condom. You need to have some common sense and experience to back the theory. Theory which I will teach you. YOU will have to provide the common sense part. Can anyone give me an exemple of a famous leader with no common sense ?"

Private Kevin puts his hand up quickly. "Zat voolish pig-dog Clinton!"

Fliptop raises his hand, "Eh, Starscream? He was famous Leader of the Cons fer about... 60 seconds..." Fliptop adds, "Shortest reign I ever heard of, but still..."

Sheng tries to think of a leader that the human would know with no common sense... She can think of several that SHE knows... but they're all second war leaders...

Private Kevin shakes his head at the Autofool's comment. "No, Clinton tried to attack the glorious country of Belgishstan, the fool..." he falls into silence

Sheng says, "Whitewind."

Michael Briar nods to Sheng liking that one, "For the humans, Hitler easly."

First Aid takes a seat and puts his hands on his knees. He nods to God with each point that he brings up. The Protectobot medic raises his hand at the question, "Oh, darn. He took my answer." he points at Fliptop, but doesn't seem all that concerned about it. "Megatron's my second choice. Famous, yet he still believed in the might over right principle, plus he felt that conquering would be a suitable and reasonable choice for our Empire to choose. Tsk, no common sense at all."

Sgt. Frank DuMaine nods at Private Kevin "Good exemple, he should made out with a &lt;BLEEP&gt; who knew how to use a washing machine. Starscream ? Isn't that some sci-fi porno flick ? Never heard of the guy. Well George W. Bush jr. was quite an &lt;BLEEP&gt; in his time. Now he's a dead ass but still, may Satan repeatedly torture his soul. Whitewind ? Never heard of him but with a dick name like that I don't doubt you. Indeed Hitler was a moron. He could have crushed Britain but he was too busy acting crazy to do it properly."

Sheng says, "Whitewind was a femme."

You say, "Can anyone tell me...simply. What leadership is about ?""

Private Kevin raises a hand quickly again. "Eet iz aboot crushing your opponents and killing zer families"

Sheng says, "Leading the people under your command with a minimum of losses and maximum amount of gain, be it in supplies or battle victories. Iis the ability to plan long term and short term, and handle the unexpected when it occurs. It also includes the ability to train people new to your command how to survive."

First Aid calls out, "Leadership is about having the Matrix passed down to you!" He looks around at everyone, "What?"

Fliptop facepalms at First Aid and mutters to himself. "Man, I knew this was a mistake...."

Sheng says, "I think he meant traits, not symbols..."

First Aid looks at Sheng, "Having the Matrix is a trait." Sorta.

Sheng mentally sighs, but doesn't comment. That IS the primary 'trait' that Autobot's identify their Prime's by.

Sgt. Frank DuMaine checks his roster to make sure Private Kevin is supposed to be in his class. "Crushing opponent and killing their family is Sgt. Redrum's class down the 2nd hall." Looks at Sheng "That's close but you are putting too many responsabilities on one horse. Long term/short term planning is the advisor's job. The leader cuts the cheese and says Yes we do it or No we don't." Turns to First Aid "My trix ?... What kind of answer is that ? Having a box of Trix cereals does not make you a leader."

Sheng nods slightly as Sgt. DuMaine goes over her idea of what a leader should be.

Private Kevin shakes his head. "No, zir. If you kill ze opponents and zere first-born sons, zen there are no to challenge your glory!"

Fliptop has left.

Sheng glances at Kevin. oO(Except the really ANGRY family memebers...)

First Aid shakes his head and explains, "See, the Matrix is this thing that glows and has two handles for when we need it to light our darkest hour. The leader who's going to be no longer leader gives it to the next leader so that they can then be the leader. Doing what the glowing ball wants pretty much determines our entire Autobot philosophy."

Sheng says, "Well... that's one way of putting it..."

Michael Briar nods and takes out a small note pad from his pocket and begins to write this all down. Save for Kevin's ideas on leadership. He looks at First Aid and says, "Um...I don't think that's what he means."

First Aid coughs and corrects himself, "Darkest hour/s/, actually. We have more than one."

You say, "A wise man once said 'A great a leader is someone who has the ability to make other people do the things they do not want to and LIKE it.' That man was a &lt;bleep&gt;'in genius. What do you think a President is if not someone who tries to make himself a positive image hoping to inspire people into doing what they might not do under normal circumstances. When properly inspired these people will surpass themselves and do things they never thought they could or do things they might not even like but they will do it for the greater good of their nation."

Michael Briar holds up his hand and says, "Sir, does that mean leadership is mostly a popularity contest?"

Private Kevin scribbles in his notepad. "...use... trickery.... to fool the... scum.."

Sheng nods slightly, then glances at Briar.

Sgt. Frank DuMaine shakes his head "Of course not Mr. B. However charisma is an important part of leadership. Charisma helps people being at ease around you. Make them more receptive to arguments during discussions. Charisma helps inspire people into believing they can do whatever they want. Inspiration can push a person beyond thier limits. There have been many exemples throughout history of geniuses who ended up where they did because they were inspired by another genius. Thomas Edison was very inspired by DaVinci. Edison admired Michaleangelo for his genius and innovative ideas. This inspiration pushed Edison into inventing a &lt;bleep&gt; load of stuff we take for granted."

First Aid ahhhhs and nods, "That explains why everyone liked Optimus so much." He doesn't say anything about everyone liking Rodimus. The Protectobot doesn't bother writing this down. What kind of world leader can make decisions without a Matrix?"

Sheng says, "Like lights coming from a small globe, and electricity." grins slightly."

Michael Briar ahs and nods erasing popularity contest :P on his notes. He looks up and listens on eager to be eating up this knowledge.

Sheng listens queitly, interested in how all the little pieces that she's seen in 'what makes a good leader' suddenly start to make sense as a whole.

Private Kevin jots down in his notebook a little map. Bless

First Aid evidently isn't getting much out of this. He folds his arms and crosses one leg over the other. He looks over to the evidently psycho Private and squints, wondering if he can make out any malfunctions in the guy that makes him act the way he is.

Sgt. Frank DuMaine nods "Right you are 3PO. A leader needs to be respected by his troops. When troops do not respect their leader they will tend second guess every decision that leader makes. This might look like a small problem but it's a big one. For when you are sitting alone in some swamp and find yourself in a midnight firefight in enemy territory. Mortar shells falling around. A hesitation, a second guess can be what gets everyone killed."

First Aid suddenly gets an idea, and an actual serious question. He raises his hand, "I have a question about leadership, sir."

Sgt. Frank DuMaine nods to First Aid "Proceed trooper."

Michael Briar looks over at First Aid, happy that he is getting something out of the whole thing.

Sheng says, "Aye. Trust, charisma and sound judgement..."

Michael Briar ponders, 'Sound judgement I got, where do I find charisma?' He files it for a question after Aids.

First Aid stands up in order to ask his question, as that makes it just that. much. more. formal. "Ok, this is a hypothetical situation, ok? Lets say that someone is... oh, for the sake of argument, the Acting Medical Chief of an entire armed forces. But... this person is /also/ a member of another squad." Aid pauses in order to carefully disguise the situation, "We'll just call them the 'Defenderbots' for easy reference. Now then, another member of this squad, who we shall call 'Sword', is a complete jerk and keeps taunting and insulting the Acting Chief Medical Officer. Now the medic doesn't want to pull rank, 'cause Sword is /bigger/ than me, and he could beat me up. And he does! But sometimes I just get so frustrated at Blades's antics, and Hot Spot can't do anything about it, and Rodimus can't do anything about it. And also, Blades is my /brother/, so that complicates things even /more/. I can't /reason/ with him, I can't beat him up, and I can't sink to his level. What, as a leader of medics, should I do?"

Sheng sighs and facepalms. And here she thought SHE was bad at covering stuff up...

Sheng says, "You lost the hypothetical situation towards the end, First Aid..."

Michael Briar chuckles, "Good try though..."

Blades arrives from the Middle Atlantic State region. Blades has arrived.

Sheng says, "You could ask a fellow high ranker to take him to task... Particularly someone who is is equal in battle that he respects."

Private Kevin shakes his head at the Autobot. "...zen you must kill hiz family!"

First Aid shakes his head to Sheng, "No, Bl... /Sword/ doesn't follow orders very well. He's kind of a jerk like that, really. Nobody can control him. And Mr. Kevin sir, I /am/ his family."

Private Kevin nods. "Zen you know vot you must do..."

Sheng says, "I know First Aid... I was just offering a suggestion..."

First Aid eyes Kevin, "Gee, couldn't I just, I dunno, somehow talk to him and calm him down?"

You say, "First of all you put too much faith in that stripper bar...The Hot Spot. You should be able to take care of your problems yourself. First thing you could try to do is to gain the respect of your brother. This is where it gets tricky, getting his respect might involve layin' the smackdown on him a couple of times to show him you mean it. Cuz you know some people can't seem to understand with words. And if he keeps pissing you off pull rank dammit that's partly the reason rank exist. It's a way to diplomaticly slap someone in the face and say 'Hey &lt;bleep&gt; I'm your superior so get me my &lt;bleep&gt;'in donuts.'"

Private Kevin shakes his head firmly. "No. Kill. Family."

Michael Briar chuckles, then drops it looking at Kevin with a glare.

Sgt. Frank DuMaine walks over to Kevin "I think you might have an anger management problem. Are you sure you signed up for this class ? Maybe you should have a talk with the lil' dudes in white about that 'killing family' fixation. They might be able to help you."

Private Kevin slams a hand over his notepad as the sgt approaches. "Nono, everything fine!"

First Aid nods to DuMaine, now ignoring Kevin, "But this hypothetical Acting Medical Chief has /tried/ to gain his respect, sir. But e has no respect for medical officers, even when they're patching him up so he can go and 'slaughter a few more 'Cons', as he puts it. And as for laying the smack-down on him..." Aid suddenly gets a flashback from when he was in the training room with his brother. He shivers and snaps out of it, "Uh... he's bigger than I am. And gosh darn it, I just don't know if I have the authority to be 'mean' and 'tough'" Yes, Aid does the little finger quoty thing, "Enough to pull rank without him laughing at me some more."

Blades remembers seeing his brother pass by him a long time ago. And now his curiosity got the better of him. Blades is just walking along, having landed and transformed some ways away from the gym everyone is at. The Protectopunk makes his way to where he thinks FA is at. Stomp stomp stomp.

Sgt. Frank DuMaine looks at First Aid "Well don't patch him up next time and make him beg for it like I do with my wife. Bigger than you ? So what ? Kick him in the balls or whatever you guys have that hurts alot. Train in secret and surprise him with a royal ass whuppin'. After making yourself his peer he will have to respect you, if not pull rank and put him on potato peeling duty or whatever embarassing task you people have."

Sheng looks up as Blades enters and mentally sighs. oO(This is going to get interesting)

Michael Briar looks over at Blades and blinks, "Uh oh..." He looks forward and tries to keep calm.

First Aid smiles and nods at DuMaine, "Yeah..." he says slowly, "Yeah! I'll show Blades a thing or two! Teach him to mess around with the medical division! If he wants to make full use of our abilities then he's going to have to /respect/ us and be willing to not act like a total /jerk/ around us!" He clenches his fist, "Boy, next time I see Blades I'm going to walk on over there and give him a royal piece of my- EEEeeeEEEEk!!!" First Aid staggers as his view falls on the doorway. He stumbles and holds onto the chair for support. "B-... Blades! Uh... come on and join us... if.. if you want, that is. If you don't want to... I... I'll understand."

Michael Briar looks over at First Aid and says, "Show some backbone..."

Sheng sighs and facepalms, then gets to her feet. "Greetings Blades. Did you wish to join us for... boot camp,I believe this is called?" the femme glances at First Aid. "First Aid, relax."

Sgt. Frank DuMaine nods that's right kick him in the 'EEEeeeEEEEk' wherever that is."

Blades stands tehre, arms crossed. His gaze moves down to everyone in the room then shoots up towards First Aid, "Continue your speech wussybot." He states and takes a step forward, "Walk on over there and give him a royal peice of your what?" He grins a bit as he stares, "I'm interested in finding out about this." Blades

Look! It's Blades! Also known as the Protectopunk, the Streetfighter, the Epitome of what an Autobot shouldn't be like. He's what every Autobot should be, a fighter, to the core. Take a look at him. He's Autobot perfection at its finest. Sure, He's got wussy brothers, but atleast Blades came out alright. Let's get a better look at this badass. Feet first. Starting from his feet all the way to his knees, Blades' legs are covered in red painted thick armor. Only where the kneecap and Rocket Launchers are situated does the red falter. Speaking of the Rocket Launchers, the inoperable rocket launchers, (Atleast in this mode they don't fire) are situated to either side of his legs, right at the joint of Blades' knee. Above Blades' knee, his legs extend up towards his waist. His legs are an offwhite color, and his armor isn't as thick, to allow more flexibility. The legs enter the Autobot's waist, which is a red armor plating, much like his lower legs. Extended from the Protectopunk's waist is his upper torso. Starting at his stomach area up to midchest, it's all red plated armor. In the pectoral areas of the Autobot's chestplate, offwhite vent areas disrupt the red coloring, offering someone who is looking at Blades a nice change in color. Situated between the two vents that make up Blades' chestplate is the Autobot emblem, emblazoned on a small white chunk of armor. Extended from Blades' upper torso are a pair of arms. Both are completely off-white in color. The thick tree-trunks you call arms are covered in the landing struts of Blades' alternate mode, which allow a little extra protection. At the end of the block arms are blade's blue gauntlets. Out of Blades' torso, at the top and between the shoulders, lies Blades' inconspicuous head. When it isn't bashed and dented, the face area is a blueish color. His sharp inclined nose and lighter blue optics seem to peirce at you when he catches your gaze. Above Blades' face is a standard white Autobot helmet to help cover up some of the more delicate systems in the cranium. On Blade's back are his namesakes, his two rotary blades. Michael Briar frowns at Blades, he's heard of the guy but never seen him save as Defensor's arm during the quint war. He growls out, "Quit calling First Aid a wussybot Blades..."

Sgt. Frank DuMaine looks at Blades "Hey there Wally the Wacky Chopper. Stop disturbing my class. Find a seat or stand in the corner. Now this is not family counceling night...that's on wendsdays! Now shut up and lets us continue with the program."

First Aid coughs and glances at both Briar and Sheng, "Yeah... yeah... ok. I'm gonna... gonna do it. If I don't come back, my all my herbal energon for medical purposes goes to Groove." Standing up straight, First Aid takes tiny steps over to Blades and looks at him right in the optics for about half a second before looking away. "Uh... Blades. A royal piece of my... um... mind. I don't think you should be treating me as harshly as you do. I do a very important thing." He pauses, "And if you don't accept that, Sargeant DuMaine says I'm supposed to..." He squints, "Either make you beg for repairs, or kick your ass. But I'm sure you don't want to even bother with that and I'm sure that the next step of me trying to pull rank on you is just doomed to fail so if you like we can just forget that this whole thing ever happened?"

Sheng holds a hand up. "Blades, now is neither the time, nor the place. If you wish to discuss things with First Aid, you an do so when we go back to Autobot city. If you wish to stay here now, then pleas take a seat and listen to what Sgt. DuMaine has to say." the femme's tone leaves no room for debate.

Sheng says, "First Aid, Blades! We are GUESTS here, and we are supposed to be following his orders!" she nods at DuMaine. "You can try and show your leaderships skills later, let us LEARN them now.""

The Protectopunk grunts and stares towards the Sergeant then towards Sheng, "What the frag are you talking about? Came in here to listen and heard the retard goin on about me. Was friggen interested in knowing what he wanted to say!" Blades moves to a seat and sits down. He looks at First Aid and just grins at him, "Sit down wussybot."

First Aid nods to Blades and follows him back to the cluster of chairs, "Yes sir." he says, either to the Sarge or to Blades. Or both. The medic slumps in his chair. oO Hey, that went pretty good. I'm getting better! Oo

Sheng narrows her optics at Blades, but takes her seat and bows her head to the human. "My apologies, sir."

Michael Briar glares at Blades, something has to be done. But can he do it? He just doesn't know right now. Common Briar, get up and defend a fellow monkey wrench. Well, the situation has settled down, maybe later.

Sgt. Frank DuMaine looks down at his notes "Allright we already covered the charisma/respect aspects of leadership. Does anyone else has questions about those two points ?"

Sheng's optics flicker then narrow as she picks up FX's report, viewing it in the upper left corner of her vision. ah, the advantages of being a robot;) oO(...That does not sound good...)

Michael Briar nods and raises his hand, "Sir...I have one."

Sheng says, "Beyond the obivous of physical prowness, how do you earn respect?"

Michael Briar drops his hand, dang, she took his.

Blades sits there, staring at First Aid. His hand goes up cause he's got a question.

Private Kevin raises a hand to answer Sheng's question. "You kill zer royal family"

First Aid has a bad feeling that this question of Blades's is going to involve him. He slumps in his chair some more. He's not enjoying boot camp.

Sheng says, "Is that your answer to everything?"

Private Kevin shakes his head. "No. Zometimes one must defeat an ememy by befriending him zen pushing him down de ztairs. Or paying zomeone to bottle him in ze face"

Sheng puts a comforting hand on First Aid's shoulder and offers a faint grin, then returns her attention to the class.

Sgt. Frank DuMaine ponders shooting Kevin... "Excellent question golden rod. Another way of earning respect is by being there for the troops and being there with the troops. This brings us back to the point where a good leader would never ask someone to do something he is not willing to do himself. A good leader is someone who will not hesitate to put himself on the line for his own men. When a leader is willing to take a bullet for his men, his men will take 100 bullets for him."

Sheng nods slightly. Now THERE'S something she understands and agrees with 100%.

Sgt. Frank DuMaine points to Blades "Allright the loud chopper dude. What's your question ?"

The Protectopunk just sits there and grins at First Aid while he waits to be called on. When he is finally called on he clears his throat and turns to look towards the Sergeant, "Hmmm? Wasn't sure you were callin me. Name's Blades. Use it." Blades grunts, "My question is-" The Protectopunk looks to First Aid, "Respect. How does a NonCom gain it when surrounded by real warriors?"

Sheng says, "By saving our lives every time we're damaged?"

Michael Briar looks down at his pad and isn't sure how to write down that info, maybe just doing what's right and not getting a big head over things. Sounds about right for a leader. Doing what's called for him to do.

Private Kevin shakes his head at Sheng. "No no no, you use ze bodies of ze weak to feed the glorious furnaces of ze revolution!"

Sheng blinks at Kevin. She's begining to wonder why he's even trying to take this class, since he doesn't seem to be trying to learn anything...

Michael Briar says, "Sir, permission to throw Kevin out of the class sir. He does not want to participate and he's being an &lt;bleep&gt;hole to the rest of us."

You say, "Non-combattants are an essential part of the military. Medics are important. They are the ones who keep us going, those who give us our Anthrax vaccines. They do alot of hard work. Being a warrior is something but you have to remember the purpose of being a warrior. If you cannot respect anyone BUT warriors you have lost your warrior purpose. You should take Shina-Tsu-Hiko-sama's philosophy class on what it means to be a warrior. (This should make more sense)"

Sgt. Frank DuMaine points to Briar "You, the one who needs a haircut. What is your question ?"

Blades looks away from First Aid and just glares bullets at Sheng, "I said NonComs, not just medics. If I wanna insult him I will, stop leapin to his defense at every chance, eh?" Blades turns to look at the Sergeant, "Right right. Hard work." His optics roll, "Ahhh for those who have lost their warrior purpose... I am glad I have not... don't think I want to take a class on.. philosophy."

Michael Briar understands! He looks up from his writing on being a warrior and says, "I understand, Sheng had my question sir."

Sheng sighs and shakes her head. It seems Blades wil never understand that you NEED people that aren't 'warriors' to have a WORKING faction. Oh well, maybe he'll figure it out some day...

Private Kevin nods. "Yez, of course. As vell as varriors, you need ze chemical warfare scientists and vorkers. Glory to ze vorkers"

Sgt. Frank DuMaine nods "Allright as for you 'Blades' when you take a break of killing them vampires I REALLY suggest you take that class on the way of the warrior. Dodging your problem is accepting to keep that problem. One cannot being helped if he does not help himself first. Next part. We will cover one of the biggest aspect of leadership...Responsability."

Blades just stares at the Sergeant as he leans there. His head shakes and he waves dismissively, "You know me about as well as you know your aft, fruit. Don't tell me what kinda problems I have." And apparently the whole Vampire thing went over his head.

Sheng nods her head slightly, but otherwise remains still.

Sgt. Frank DuMaine turns a few pages in his leadership manual "Responsability...Means being able to say and accept the facts that when someone screws up it's your fault. That is a simplistic version of it but I think you all understand what I mean here."

Private Kevin holds up a hand. "Zir, I have to go pee. Do you have ein.. map ov zeez establishment?"

Sheng nods again. "Aye, that is something I definitly understand." When you're responsible for people, that means you are responsible for more then their safety. Their conduct, their injuries, their rewards, their punishments... and their deaths. It all falls on the leader, in the end...

Sgt. Frank DuMaine looks at Kevin "Turn left outside this room. Then right at the phone booth, just next to the phone booth are the restrooms."

Blades waves dismissively as he sits there, "Bah. Responsibilities. Long as Spot is in the Protectobots, guess I ain't gotta worry bout no friggen Leadership responsibilities."

Private Kevin nods. "Aaah, zank-you. And vere are the ovvices. I need to.. vill out vorms"

Sheng glances from Kevin to Blades... Oh yeah, they're both learning SO much from being here...

Sgt. Frank DuMaine nods to Sheng "Right on. You are also responsible for picking your officers who take responsabilities for the people under them. A Military organization is very complex. It is inconceivable for the leader to take care of everything. This is where the officers come in. The officers will usually handle the smaller problems. Each good decision an officer makes reflects the judgement of the leader for having chosen the said officer as the right man for the job. Should the officer act like a jerk, &lt;bleep&gt; or any other body part ALSO reflects the leader's judgement. This is where the leader will have to take responsability for having choosen a jerk instead of a more competant person. The officers also play an important part in the respect of the troops towards the leader, can anyone tell me why ?"

Blades raises his hand.

Private Kevin rises from his seat anyway to leave the room. Some more acute observers might have noticed the guy unhitching a gun from his belt as he leaves the room

Sgt. Frank DuMaine points to Blades "Proceed trooper."

A few minutes later, from out of one of the windows, can be seen a small figure skiing down away from the complex, in one hand a briefcase, laughing maniacally about 'capitalist pig-dogs' and gunning down people all around him. Finally he skis off a handy cliff-face (in New York, yes), and floats down with a parachute that proudly displays the Belgishstan flag.

The Protectopunk just stares at First Aid for a moment, then looks back to the Sergeant, "So you sayin an officer who acts like a punk, makes the Leader look bad?" His head shakes, "And Officers are important in the amount of respect the leader has? What frag is that? Hot Spot gets more respect havin me on his squad than than anyone else on the squad, even this wuss over here. I think you are wrong."

Michael Briar snorts at Blades, he'd love to give the bot a few reams but it's not his place right now. Man, is Briar getting brave or something?

Sheng Still has her hand raised. She looks at Blades and shakes her head sadly. She'll never understand him...

Sgt. Frank DuMaine chokes as if someone tried to shove a co&lt;bleep&gt; down his throat "YOU! An officer! I think you are seeing this on a too small a scale. You guys have one big leader the winnebago one I saw on TV. He probably chose that Hot Spot dude as one of his officers. Do you think Hot Spot does a good job ? Do you think the winnebago guy made the right call in choosing Hot Spot as an officer ? The fact the winnebago guy made an excellent decision should inspire trust and respect. You trust him to make good decisions in the future because he made good ones in the past. If that Hot Spot dude was a jerk. You would have a tendency to distrust the winnebago guy because he obviously misjudged Hot Spot's character. Distrust leads to loss of respect and efficiency."

Sheng is still sitting there with her hand raised;)

Sgt. Frank DuMaine points to Sheng "Go ahead 3PO."

Sheng says, "If the officers show disrespect to the leader, the troopers will too. If the officer respects the leader, the troopers will too. Many low ranking officers also look on the officers as a variation, or segment of the leader. They often expect the leader to act like the officer they are most familair with. If they do not respect the officer, chances are they will not respect the leader."

Michael Briar hums, "Good decisions.." he writes on from the discussions.

Blades just glares at the Sergeant, "This guy's fruity." He mutters and looks towards First Aid, "You gotten silent there wussbot? Trying to figure out what you were tryin to say earlier? Or you bored stiff listenin to Sheng recite Military conduct books from memory?"

Sheng says, "You know Blades, if this bores you, you're free to leave. You obviously aren't here to learn."

First Aid looks over to Blades and mutters a few things to himself that sound an awful lot like 'I need a bigger gun'. He looks back to the Sarge. He does look quite bored.

Michael Briar raises his hand.

"How bout you shut your face?" Blades turns to look at Sheng, "Get off your friggen high horse. Cause I don't wanna act all goody goody don't mean I'm listenin and takin this crap in!" Blades then looks towards First Aid, "Hmmmm?"

Sheng shrugs and returns her attention to DuMaine. "As you say." oO(Could have fooled me...)

Sgt. Frank DuMaine nods at Sheng's assessment "Indeed, the same exemple extends througout the military structure and the chain of command. Accepting to be blamed for bad command decisions is one thing. Living with them is something else. Hey Razor! Quit distubing my class." Finally points to Briar "Yes Mr. B."

First Aid glares at Blades for a moment and says, "Oh shut /up/, Blades. Nobody cares about you and your temper tantrums." The medic stands up, "I apologize, Sargeant, but this just isn't working out for me. Good luck." He salutes, and then heads for the door.

The Protectopunk snorts, "I'll start intentionally disruptin this friggen 'class' if you don't start callin us by our damn names. You ain't seen disruptin yet fella." Blades turns towards First Aid, "Shut up? Wussbot's showin some ballberrings. I'll smack him later for that."

Michael Briar nods and stands up, ready to ask. "What about courage, does leadership and courage go hand in hand or are they totally different things?" He isn't sure that made sense but he was brave for saying it.

Sheng says, "Hey, First Aid!" the femme stands and salute/bows. She doesn't say anything else, but takes her seat again with a smile."


 * BANG BANG BANG* At the front of the class you see the sarge smoking gun in hand who just fired 3 rounds in the ceiling "By God you people will stop that Jerry &lt;bleep&gt;`in Springer crap in my class or I'll have you shot with 'Victoria'...who happens to be an experimental 30 mm cannon. This is a military complex and we work by the god damn military rules."

First Aid storms out of the area, still muttering about getting a bigger gun. Yes, a MUCH bigger gun. Something /destructive/. Something that'll tEaCh BlAdEs GoOD... yesssss.... He winces at the gunfire, but doesn't stop.

You say, "As for you 'Blades' you will adress me as 'Sir', 'Instructor', 'Sarge' or 'God' is that clear ?""

Sheng lifts an optic ridge at the gun shots, but doesn't say anything aloud. There are times when you're 'usual' public face being emotionless is a good thing. "Aye, Sir," she says, voice as calm and seemingly unruffled as her body languge reflects.

Michael Briar blinks and pulls his military issue 45 from behind his jacket uniform, "Sir! Put...down...the weapon!" He holds the gun out with both hands and safety off.

Sheng reaches over and puts a hand on Michael's shoulder... well... a finger anyway. She shakes her head slightly. "At ease Michael. He isn't aiming to hurt anyone, and he needed to get our attention.

The Gunshots don't startle Blades but they surprise him. He decides he likes this guy. Blades stares at the Sergeant and shakes his head, "Jerry who?" He asks, "I'm 'fraid it ain't clear bub." Blades stands up and crosses his arms over his chest, "I'll call you Megatron if I friggen wanna." Blades takes a step back and sees where First Aid went, "Think I'll dip, bub. You're spewin text-book frag. Only person that's gonna find you remotely interestin is that stiff over there, Sheng." Blades steps out too.

Blades has left.

Michael Briar frowns, "He pulled a weapon out with intent to use in a military installation. An unauthorized use of a firearm is against the rules. This isn't a battlefiled or a fire range."

Sheng sighs as Blades walks out and shakes her head. She looks at DuMaine. "My apologies for Blades' actions, Sir. He... is something of a hothead that reflects badly on us at times like this." she stares after her teammate and sighs again, her hand still on Michael's shoulder.

Sgt. Frank DuMaine spots Briar's move and smiles "Freeze the scene! Don't move a muscle!" puts his gun back in the holdster. "Mr. B made a very gutsy move here. But he made a tactical mistake. Can anyone tell me what it was ?"

Michael Briar blinks and for a second thinks he isn't seeing what's going on. The sarge isn't nuts? Great...just great. He looks about the room, weapon still pointed at the sarge.

Sheng looks from Michael to DuMaine, wondering if she should get in the middle of this or stay quiet... Then again she's the only other student still IN the class. "He displayed his only weapon and thus lost his trump card?" she tries, "Well, that, and he hesitated."

You say, "Wrong. He stayed seated. If he had missed me and I started firing back he would have been caught between his chair and the table. The last thing you want in a firefight is to have your mobility limited. He should have gotten upand taken a step away from the table before announcing his intent.""

Michael Briar places the weapon down now understanding, "Good point sir, my apologies, I won't hesitate next time and get up before I do it too." He grins a bit but clicks the safety back on and slips the weapon back into his jacket holster.

Sheng blinks slightly as her player was certain that Michael STOOD up before pulling the weapon. "And there's the primary reason I'm a trooper..."

Sgt. Frank DuMaine nods to Briar "Back to your courage question Lt. Courage and Leadership do go hand in hand IN THEORY. In theory every great leader is fearless and every fearless warrior is a born leader."

Sheng says, "The only people with no fear are the dead. Everyone needs a little bit of fear to let them realise when a situation is out of hand."

Sheng says, "Courage is being afraid, but being in control of the fear. Knowing when to fight the fear and do your job, and when to show your heels."

Michael Briar hums and nods grasping the concept, "So it's doing what is needed when called for it." Thank god he does not have any of that Japanese gidi stuff, his burden is already hard to bare.

You say, "In practice great leaders STRIVE to be courageous. Many leaders are courageous from the start, some gain that courage along the way. Others never gain that courage. In practice the really courageous warriors will step up to the plate when odds are bleak and everything looks desperate. However this does not instantly make them great leaders. So you have to be careful about brave warriors who spontaneously want to take charge.""

Sheng says, "So leadership is a puzzle of all the 'right' peices, and whether or not you can lead and lead well depends on how you put the puzzle together and if you have all the pieces to begin with, right?"

Michael Briar hums quietly to himself. Maybe he has the right peices to solve his own leadership puzzle. He was good during those missions during the quint war.

You say, "And you miss you must NEVER show the enemy your heels...You run backwards and shoot his ass as you retreat. And you are right about the puzzle theory.""

Sheng says, "Showing your heels is just an old expression for retreating..." the femme offers softly, then nods slightly to the second part of the comment."

Michael Briar nods as he takes it all in, good decision making, common sense, and respect through good decision making gets you leadership. That and willing to do anything you ordering your troops to do helps as well.

You say, "Leadership IS like a puzzle. You can be brave but have lousy judgement. You can have great judgement and be fearful. You can bear responsability and be fearful. You can bear responsability and be brave yet lack judgement. Being a great leader is tough because you need: Courage, Judgement, A sense of responsability, respect, charisma and other qualities. The final blend of all these traits is what decides how good a leader you can make."

Sheng nods again. oO(Well, as I'm lacking in the respect and charisma feilds, that takes me out of the leadership equation..)

Sheng STILL doesn't know why Hot Spot asked her to come to this 'class', BTW.

Michael Briar rubs his chin with his metal hand. He looks at it recalling the explosion that took it, o(Well, I'm brave, I got good desicision making skills...)o

Sgt. Frank DuMaine looks at everyone "Well that is it for today. CLASS DISMISSED!" and walks out of the class to get an ice cold beer with Hound/Hardshell and some other dudes.. Sheng nods and salutes the human then sits down calmly and cocks her head to the side and studies Michael. "Well, that was interesting. What happens as an encore?" *   *  *   *     ***  *   *     ***  ***  **    *  * ** * **    *   *** *** ***  *   * *** ***  *   * *  * ***   **** *  * ***  * * * * *