The Feuds, The Fast, and The Furious.

Velocitron Oilsport Racetrack

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=============[ Welcome to the OILBATH ]========================== While most of Velocitron seems bright and cheerful, this penal oval-shaped race track has seen better days and has an accompanying reinforced, bulletproof grandstand. The track is heavily stained with the life's blood, ichor, and fuel of every racing species in the galaxy, and there are numerous trapdoors built into the sidewalls and track floor. There is no obvious way out of the track for the racers or the pit crew. Shady bookies wander around offering shady deals to the multitudes of myriad aliens flocking to watch the competition, and souvenir sellers hawk pieces of the fallen racers.

-( Race Conditions )-- POSITIONS PER LAP:  20                 LAPS PER RACE:      3 ENERGON PER TURN:   8                  MAX BASE VELOCITY:  100 --

An advertisement that has been circulating recently describes our set-up:

ATTENTION SPEED DEMONS OF THE GALAXY! The Velocitron Racing Assocation is proud to be hosting the open-roster race of the MILLENIUM! Think you're fast? Come test your mettle against the best racers in the galaxy, with a fabulous prize going to the winner! Don't care much for trophies? Then this is the race for you! The SuperScope XT1000 awaits the one in first place! With this targeting array, you'll be sure to never miss your mark! Send your enemies running like the wind, never to return! Participants will be served in the order they arrive, no sign-ups necessary! Just show up and get your RACE on!"

CUE: TODAY, right here, right now!

"Well, the crowds have really turned out in droves for this race today..." The Race Announcer broadcasts over the Velocitron loudspeakers. And indeed, it's true: large crowds full of all kind of species and races cram the stands, eager to see this mega-hyped racing event! Vendors cruise the stands, selling all manner of strange and wondrous (or possibly disgusting, if that's your thing) gastronomic delights.

The Announcer continues.... "Today's race is brought to you by Maccadam's Old Oil House. Try a refreshing flask today!!!.... Ok, folks, this is shaping up to be a very exciting event that we have for you today. We are VERY pleased to be able to inform you that one of our all-time racing champions, the amazing, ferociously fast Autobot BLURR, is here today!" At the mention of Blurr, the crowds cheer- the Autobot rightfully has a huge following. Fans scream his name and wave signs of support, while children hold posters of Blurr by the trackside, calling for his autograph. "But Blurr is facing several challengers for the title of fastest Cybertonian today.... Here we have Spinister, Hubcap, Shiftlock, Swindle, Misfire, and Blast Off!" The crowd cheers for each name- though not as loudly as for Blurr. "SO! Hold on to your hats (or whatever you might have), folks, and prepare to watch history be made!!!"

Singe glances up at Spinister in the stands. "We're racing?"

Spinister stares back down at the Neb, who nods. "I didn't think so..."

<>

From across the stadium, Hairsplitter just sighs. "Yeah...No sign yet. And as a reminder, everyone needs to fill our expense forms for any energon purchased from concessions. So...."

Race: Military Gunnery Jeep  joins the race. Race: Race Track is initialized. Ready to begin a new race. Hubcap makes his way to the starting line, waving to the crowd and smiling brightly. Chi-chi-chang, Hubcap is now a car. Race: Space Shuttle  joins the race.

Military Gunnery Jeep  is hardly the fastest thing on the track. But who says he's here trying to -win-? No, he's here to make sure Blast Off owes him favors for a very, very long time.

And cash in on the betting and merchandizing afterwards, of course.

Blurr makes his way down to the track, and indeed, he does have quite a large following. He waves to the screaming crowds as they wave their arms, holographic banners, or any manner of noisemakers in the air and shout his name. He stops near the front of the grandstands, smiling at those begging for autographs and granting a few of them their wishes. The rest will just have to wait until after the race.

Finally, he makes his way all the way down to the track, and stands at the starting line, waving a few more times before he transforms and prepares himself for the competition to begin! The crowds roar their approval as they watch him transform--many of the money mongers have placed their bets on him today, which shouldn't come as a surprise. Combat: Cybertronian Hovercar  sets his defense level to Neutral.

Revving his engines, Misfire's paint seems to be painted a more vivid shade of Magenta. A faint black strip accents his features and makes him seem almost like a racer. Aimless stands next to him, with an old style racing helmet and scarf, bellowing in the breeze, and racing glove which Aimless then pulls tight. Aimless looks at Misfire with a bit of a scowl. "I thought the card turned in said, Aimless and Misfire...Not just Misfire."

Misfire emits, "Eh, they didn't let me add pets." Aimless whaps Misfire, "I ain't a pet!" Misfire emits, "Hey! I had to call in like five favors for this paint job and your racing cloths!" The pair then growl at each other.

Shiftlock's here just for the excuse to race. She doesn't care about winning - though that would be nice - but really, no one's winning but Blurr. Everyone knows this by now. It's so much of a given it would almost be disheartening if you had your spark set on being first place.

Singe just rolls his optics. "These disgusting mouth breathers...What a fanbase." He smirks as Blurr makes his entrance. "Spinister, did you know that Blurr is fast? He is, in case you haven't heard him remind the galaxy about it with his endless prattling."

Spinister says nothing, though he probably has indeed heard that Blurr is fast.

Well, this is it. The big showdown. Blast Off has been waiting for this day for...eons it seems. And maybe it actually has been, literally, who knows? The Combaticon waits, in shuttle mode, primed and ready to *finally* put that annoying Hovercar in his place. What will Blurr's adoring fans think when he beats the racing champion right their in front of their very optics? The thought is nearly enough to warm his cold spark. "Blurr, I'm surprised you even showed up! I hope I don't humiliate you TOO severely in front of all your fans..." To Swindle, Spinister, and Misfire, he adds, "Keep an eye on these Autobots! they always like to take cheap pot shots at me when I race...because they know I will defeat them. If *I* win this race, then all the Decepticons gain some glory. If we lose, then.... the Autobots will gain another moral victory, and they don't deserve it.

Combat: Space Shuttle  sets his defense level to Protected.

Race: The racers speed around the track, and the scoreboard lights up with the new race standings... Race: Advanced 8 positions.

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===============[ Racetrack Attack! ]============================= Racer                         Pos Lap Defense-Level -- +Lil' Yellow Porsche   7   0   NEUTRAL        -- +Military Gunnery Jeep Space Shuttle      8   0   PROTECTED      -- Cybertronian Hovercar  11  0   NEUTRAL        -- Twin-Nosed Jet       12  0   FEARLESS       --

+ Racer within ramming distance -> You!

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============[ Sorted by Track Position ]=========================

The Announcer yells, "Wow....and MISFIRE pulls ahead! Blurr is coming in second, and the rest are trying to catch up.... Will BLurr pull ahead or do we have a new star?"

Space Shuttle  remains wary of an attack at any second- he's been in these races too long and thus he tries to fly defensively- at least at first. However, he is less than pleased to see Blurr rounding the corner ahead- just out of reach. <>

Right before the Race begins, Aimless climbs into the narrow cockpit of Misfire, preparing to manage the controls. Playing with Misfire's controls, Aimless states, "I am going to drop the hammer." Misfire emits, "Don't do it..." Aimless says, "I feel the need for speed!" At the moment of GO! Aimless pushes Misfire's engines full tilt as he barely manages to push to the head of the back. Misfire emits, "Pull back, I can't maintain this speed..." Aimless grumbles as he dials down the throttle as Misfire makes a large bank turn, so he can take the next turn. Misfire emits, "You got it Blast Off!"

Combat: Twin-Nosed Jet  sets his defense level to Protected.

Lil' Yellow Porsche  tears away from the starting line, but is clearly outmatched. Oh well, Blast Off /did/ say something about cheap pot shots. Hubcap fills a databomb with junk info, and sends it at the spaceship.

Combat: Lil' Yellow Porsche  misses Space Shuttle <Blast Off> with his Super Hearing attack!

Race: You have been attacked by Lil' Yellow Porsche <Hubcap> but he missed. Your movement rate will be unaffected next turn.

And the start signal goes off! The fans keep on shouting and waving their various noisemakers and banners. Blurr chuckles as he easily surges ahead of the others, without really putting forth much effort. He notices Misfire in the lead, but it doesn't really faze him. He knows the Decepticon can't keep that up for long, unless he gets himself disqualified by taking his altitude too high. The Velocitronians did take their racing very seriously. Too bad, that mech could probably use a scope like the one being offered as a prize this time around. Heheh.

Thus, he maintains speed, swerving sharply around the first hairpin turn. He absently wonders if there will be any traps lurking about this time...

The orange and black speeder only wishes Jazz were here. That would make this complete; she still wants to test her mettle against him - someone with the kind of moves and experience he has would make for the most enjoyable race she could ever hope to have.

Nevertheless, Swindle is here. He's a nice silver medal when it comes to competition. Is it... is it WRONG to enjoy competing against an enemy? Well, Ultra Magnus did say 'go with your gut', and her gut is saying that right now, it's time to worry less about war, and just have fun. 'Punching Air Raid in the face' kind of fun.

Shiftlock's sense of fun may be a little skewed.

Angling her spoiler to increase downthrust, she picks up a little speed. "'Sup Swindle? Knock over any little old drones lately?" she chuckles as she pulls ahead of him.

Combat: Cybertronian Speeder <Shiftlock> sets her defense level to Aggressive.

<<Glory be damned, I better get my credits' worth out of this Blast Off,>> Swindle retorts, though his tone of voice makes it hard to tell if he's being sarcastic or not.

At the green light he punches the gas but doesn't drop it all the way just yet, still making a decent pace off the starting line all the same. Just hope this race doesn't have too many sharp turns, he doesn't really like those... and is Blast Off actually being concervative? Someone must of not punched his ego enough times yet.

"Well well, fancy seeing -you- here my dear." There's little questioning who that's adressed to, considering Shiftlock is -right there-. "Did you miss me? Or have you been too busy mourning all those losses you yet again couldn't stop?" Ooh, wasting no time getting to the trash talk this time.

Or down to business it seems. There's a click-clack-click as spikes pop out of the hubs of his wheels, and the jeep veers towards the speedster. "Let's get re-aquainted!"

Combat: Military Gunnery Jeep <Swindle> strikes Cybertronian Speeder <Shiftlock> with his Check out this racin' bling (Ram) attack! [Pulled -2]

Race: The racers speed around the track, and the scoreboard lights up with the new race standings... Race: Advanced 8 positions.

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===============[ Racetrack Attack! ]============================= Racer                         Pos Lap Defense-Level -- Cybertronian Hovercar <Blurr> 3   1   NEUTRAL        -- Cybertronian Speeder <Shiftlo 8   0   AGGRESSIVE     -- Lil' Yellow Porsche <Hubcap>  10  0   NEUTRAL        -- Military Gunnery Jeep <Swindl 11  0   NEUTRAL        -- ->Space Shuttle <Blast Off>     16  0   PROTECTED      -- Twin-Nosed Jet <Misfire>      19  0   PROTECTED      --

+ Racer within ramming distance -> You!

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============[ Sorted by Track Position ]========================

"And now we're at Round 2.....look at those Cybertronians go! ...AND BLURR TAKES THE LEAD!!!!! I don't know about you folks, but this is an exciting race!

Combat: Space Shuttle <Blast Off> sets his defense level to Fearless.

Lil' Yellow Porsche <Hubcap> swerves slightly as he attempts to recover, distracted as he was by throwing the databomb, and frustrated by screwing it up. "I'm... last? Man I need an upgrade."

"Gah!" Shiftlock swings out of the way of Swindle's tire-popping spikes, only to grind up against the sidewall, leaving a nice dent and scrape across her side, bending a wheel wing straight up. She's slowed down considerably as she regains her footing.

"Sorry Swindle, you're gonna have to find some fresh disses. You can't keep usin' the same tired ol' song every time we meet - I thought you were a little more, I dunno, *cunning* than that!" she calls ahead, speeding to play catch up, giggling already at the thought of a little dust-up.

Combat: Cybertronian Speeder <Shiftlock> sets her defense level to Fearless.

Resting his engines, Aimless yawns as Misfire makes his way through the turns of the track, the lap marker is about a position in front of Misfire. "So, bored Misfire..." Aimless then pushes Misfire's engines full tilt!

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

Exclaims Misfire as his engines are once again pushed to the maximum!

Aimless looks around the cockpit of Misfire, "We need tunes Misfire..." Misfire continues to emit his yell as he pushes around the track! Aimless looks around and finds a place to plug in his music device..."Hmmmmm..." Aimless looks through the song list, "Ohhh, this one is nice!" Aimless selects, 'Light My Fire' by the Doors!

In an instance, Misfire vocals cut out and the song blares through his emitters!

Space Shuttle <Blast Off> can see that Blurr is going to continue to ignore him. Well, that's probably just because the poor Autobot is so petrified that Blast Off will finally defeat him where NO ONE can miss it. OBVIOUSLY, that's it. "It's admirable to see you continue to try, Blurr! But I assure you, your fans are going to be very disappointed today." To Swindle, he radios <<Oh, I assure you, you will... and then some. Just keep those Autobots busy.>>

Combat: Lil' Yellow Porsche <Hubcap> sets his defense level to Fearless.

At the remark about being cunning, Swindle just laughs a bit. "I kept -you- from getting a head start, did I not?", the Combaticon retorts. "Catch ya later, toots." He finally gives the accelerator a bit more of a push, not wanting to lag too far behind despite how much fun taunting the rebel is, he's got a teammate to keep an eye on.

Combat: Military Gunnery Jeep <Swindle> sets his defense level to Aggressive.

Blurr blows past Misfire as the Decepticon slows down. "Haha! So long, Decepti-slag!" he taunts, as his optic displays light up with the race standings and his current status, which indicate he has taken the lead.

<<Lap 0 COMPLETE.>>

The crowd shouts its approval as Blurr blazes past the starting line for the second time, some of them jumping to their feet and waving their banners even more wildly. The speedster smirks inwardly as the commentator announces Blurr's lead. He spurs himself forward into a slightly higher gear, showing off a nice burst of speed as he drives by the audience.

Yeah, he's a showoff. But given his occupation preceding the war, can you blame him?

Combat: Cybertronian Hovercar <Blurr> sets his defense level to Aggressive.

Race: The racers speed around the track, and the scoreboard lights up with the new race standings... Race: Advanced 14 positions.

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===============[ Racetrack Attack! ]============================= Racer                         Pos Lap Defense-Level -- Twin-Nosed Jet <Misfire>      7   1   PROTECTED      -- ->Space Shuttle <Blast Off>     10  1   FEARLESS       -- Cybertronian Hovercar <Blurr> 15  1   AGGRESSIVE     -- Cybertronian Speeder <Shiftlo 18  0   FEARLESS       -- Lil' Yellow Porsche <Hubcap>  19  0   FEARLESS       -- Military Gunnery Jeep <Swindl 19  0   AGGRESSIVE     --

+ Racer within ramming distance -> You!

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============[ Sorted by Track Position ]=========================

"Take a look at that.... Blast Off comes in from the rest of the pack and pulls past Misfire to take second place!!!! ...Meanwhile, we've got some interesting grudge matches going on all around this track.... is this entertaining or WHAT!"

As Misfire races through the tract, Aimless continues to look through his songs. "Ahhhh, now this is fun...OOOOOOOOOOO....the RPM needle is the red, Misfire...better push it some more!" Aimless moves the throttle a little bit more forcing Misfire to go faster!

"Misfire continues to weave through the track, he manages to interrupt the song so he can in 'Morse Code' tap out. "Please...Help...Hijacked...by...Little...Man..." Aimless continues to push buttons on Misfire's dash. Misfire barrel rolls randomly, then jukes, then feints as Blast Off flies past him!

"H...E...L...P...!" Misfire taps out in the static again.

"Aw baby, I was givin' you a fair shake by not rammin' your aft from the start!" Shiftlock laughs after Swindle. "Shoulda just started out rough with you from the start. You Combaticons like it hard'n'heavy, don't ya?" She stalks up behind him and attempts to slam into him from behind.

Combat: Cybertronian Speeder <Shiftlock> strikes Military Gunnery Jeep <Swindle> with her Ram attack!

Military Gunnery Jeep <Swindle> is trucking along now, but he's got two of the Autobots right behind him more or less. Normally he wouldn't be so pleased with drawing aggro so quickly, but the point here is to keep them off Blast Off, after all. Sure enough, Shiftlock comes up right behind him with enough force to jostle the Jeep off the ground briefly. His shocks can take the landing, but it still rattles him out of his progress.

"Tsk tsk, such innuendo from a vocalizer of a femme. I'd almost think you were processed in a back alley trash bin somewhere... Oh wait, that's right. You -were-." Admist the scathing remarks though his turret swings back towards the two Autobots and opens fire, explosive pellets ripping across the racetrack in an attempt to keep them from proceeding as well.

Combat: Military Gunnery Jeep <Swindle> sets his defense level to Guarded. Combat: Military Gunnery Jeep <Swindle> strikes Cybertronian Speeder <Shiftlock> with his Scatter Blaster Area attack! [Pulled -2] Combat: Military Gunnery Jeep <Swindle> strikes Lil' Yellow Porsche <Hubcap> with his Scatter Blaster Area attack! [Pulled -2]

Space Shuttle <Blast Off> pulls through the possible attacks from the slower Autobots and, finding a clear path, decides it's time to engage full thrusters- so he does. The shuttle accelerates to his highest possible speed (within the confines of the ground-based racetrack, at least) and the Combaticon shoots past Misfire. <<I can take it from here, Misfire. But.... I must say your taste in music is terrible today. Where are those Kaon opera performances I gave you?>> Blast Off comes around a corner- and there is Blurr. Just me...and him, he thinks. FINALLY. "I'm catching up, Blurrrrrr.... I'll try not to leave wind burns as I pass you by....."

Combat: Space Shuttle <Blast Off> sets his defense level to Fearless.

Lil' Yellow Porsche <Hubcap> abandons his plans to hurt Swindle as Shiftlock does /horrible/ things to the poor 'Con. At least, until Swindle shoots him. That's just /rude./

Blurr is still in the lead...so far so good! He throttles up a steep hill, and gets some air time as his engines roar over the top, landing smoothly on the other side by increasing the power to his hover thrusters.

But wait, is that Blast Off coming up behind him? Heh, he should have expected that! He doesn't dignify the Combaticon with a response to the insults. He's already a winner, end of discussion. No matter what happens. Gunning it, speeds up to keep Blast Off from passing him!

Combat: Cybertronian Hovercar <Blurr> sets his defense level to Fearless.

Race: The racers speed around the track, and the scoreboard lights up with the new race standings... Race: Advanced 13 positions.

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===============[ Racetrack Attack! ]============================= Racer                         Pos Lap Defense-Level -- ->Space Shuttle <Blast Off>     3   2   FEARLESS       -- Cybertronian Hovercar <Blurr> 8   2   FEARLESS       -- Twin-Nosed Jet <Misfire>      15  1   NEUTRAL        -- Cybertronian Speeder <Shiftlo 18  0   FEARLESS       -- Lil' Yellow Porsche <Hubcap>  19  0   NEUTRAL        -- Military Gunnery Jeep <Swindl 19  0   GUARDED        --

+ Racer within ramming distance -> You!

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============[ Sorted by Track Position ]=========================

Combat: Twin-Nosed Jet <Misfire> sets his defense level to Fearless.

The Announcer's voice comes over the loudspeakers again as the crowd continues to cheer and wave to their favorites. "Well, Blurr continues to lead (not much surprise there)! Will anyone be able to catch up the racing Champ? There's not much time left!"

Through his eternal speaker, Misfire admits, "Blast Off wants the Opera!" Aimless pushes more buttons finding Misfire's turbo button. "What does this do?" Misfire sighs internally, "You can push it, if you put on the Opera..." Aimless states, "And Extra rations..." Misfire intones internally, "And extra rations..."

The Earth Music cuts out as the track, 'Glory to the Warrior' from the fourth act of the Kaon Opera, 'Senator Legates Magnus Folly'.

In a flash, as a sharp corner appears, Misfire's engines burn into overdrive, fire blooms out of his engines, pushing Misfire through the curve. His wing scrapes against the protective barrier, causing sparks to fly everywhere.

Misfire emits internally, "My paint job..." Aimless bahs at him, "Chicks dig scars..." Misfire emits internally, "Chicks? Small earth Chi...." Aimless then moots Misfire as he humms through the track.

Misfire maintains his position, but drifts back from the leaders. He starts to shake as his engines burn faster and brighter causing the hapless Targetmaster to start to vibrate." Aimless intones, "Woah, love the vibrating chair...next time we are on Monacus..." Misfire races through the track!

"Oh Swindle. Swindle, Swindle, Swindle," Shiftlock sighs disappointedly. "Back alley trash bins? Is that the best you can do? I guess so, after all, back alley trash bins are the only things that'll pop their plates for ya."

Shift is forced to swing to the side, taking bullets along her left door and wheel well as the track explodes with puffs of dust and shards of pavement in front of both her and Hubcap.

"Nice gun there, mind if I borrow it a minute?" she asks, swinging back around to the front, a grapple popping up out of the top of her hood, shooting towards the gun turret on Swindle, attempting to latch on and bend its supports and turret, if not steal it outright!

Combat: Cybertronian Speeder <Shiftlock> misses Military Gunnery Jeep <Swindle> with her Yoink! (Punch) attack!

Blurr once again roars past the starting line with Blast Off not far behind him. The crowds are getting wilder and wilder as the race goes on, many of them intent on Blurr winning, especially since they have their precious shanix on the blue speedster!

He doesn't show off for them this time, though...his fuel reserves are in the yellow, and might be heading into the red zone soon. If he wants to win this, he's got to manage his energon supplies right. Any racer should know that! Thus, he slows down just a bit--he can afford it. He's not even within firing range of the Combaticon shuttle. Yet.

Combat: Cybertronian Hovercar <Blurr> sets his defense level to Aggressive.

Lil' Yellow Porsche <Hubcap>  is, oddly enough, still on the road, possibly. Although he does appear to be experiencing some difficulty. Engine revving, he careens wildly towards Swindle. "Oops, sorry, don't mind me!"

Space Shuttle <Blast Off> continues to race ahead, blasting an icy, white "cloud" behind him as he goes....but he still can't quite catch up to Blurr. The slightest bit of doubt begins to creep in...what if...what if... *I* lose the race? No, that's not possible..... in all this time, Blast Off never even considered the *possibility*. Some tiny voice of ...pessimism?...reason? pipes up in his subconcious somewhere, reminding him of his recent encounter with Blitzwing- who compared him to STARCREAM of all mechs.... something about having an oversized ego. PFFFT. As if. But just as he begins to doubt, he hears Misfire begin to blast out Kaon Opera. Ah! Something is still right in Blast Off's world now, and the music gives him the inspiration he needs to continue engaging thrusters and GOOOOOOO....

Combat: Space Shuttle <Blast Off> sets his defense level to Fearless.

Combat: Lil' Yellow Porsche <Hubcap> misses Military Gunnery Jeep <Swindle> with his LEGS! (Ram) attack!

And the grappling hook flies wide as Swindle veers to the side. Shiftlock better hope that doesn't snag onto something else. Like something stationary. "Sorry sweetie, but this piece isn't on the market," he jeers back at her. Then he has to swerve the other way to avoid the little coupe trying to fender bender him. "Tch, tch, such lousy playmates." But other than the defensive driving, Swindle is just continuing to cruise along at this point.

Race: The racers speed around the track, and the scoreboard lights up with the new race standings... Race: Advanced 13 positions.

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===============[ Racetrack Attack! ]============================= Racer                         Pos Lap Defense-Level -- Cybertronian Hovercar <Blurr> 0   3   AGGRESSIVE     -- Lil' Yellow Porsche <Hubcap>  1   1   NEUTRAL        -- Cybertronian Speeder <Shiftlo 1   1   FEARLESS       -- Twin-Nosed Jet <Misfire>      5   2   FEARLESS       -- Military Gunnery Jeep <Swindl 6   1   GUARDED        -- ->Space Shuttle <Blast Off>     16  2   FEARLESS       --

+ Racer within ramming distance -> You!

=
============[ Sorted by Track Position ]=========================

The crowd continues to cheer wildly as their Champion looks like he's about to repeat history- again, and again, and again! "GO, Blurr, Goooooo!" Even the Announcer gets caught up in the crowd's excitement. "Uh- But it's not over yet folks....however, it's lookin' pretty grim for anyone trying to catch up to Blurr now!"

Shiftlock's grapple does miss - and snags onto a light post on the side of the track. She knows how to handle these kinds of situations, however, and she lets the grapple do its job as she long-sides to the left, tires screaming against the track; she flies up and sideways, leaving the track momentarily before centripetal force caries her along and through the air. The moment her nose lines back up with the track she jettisons the grapple cable, landing on her wheels and speeding onwards.

"It was worth a try!" she laughs as she speeds past Swindle, redlining her engine to get some breathing room.

As the Opera blares, Misfire manages to navigate through most of the traffic and the chaos of the action below. It isn't realy skill, but more dumb luck of Aimless' button pushing that keeps Misfire out of harm's way. A corkscrew turn here, a roll there, a flip there. In fact, Misfire appears to fly backwards for a brief moment, before falling into a flat spin that he barely pushes through.

Looking inside at the dashboard, Aimless taps at it, "Misfire, I think your Energon Gauge is whacked out...Apropos to Nothing, you have that ejection seat installed?" Un-muting Misfire, the Targetmaster internally emits, "I am so going to MUR...." Muted again Aimless sighs, "Well that was boring...you really need a TV in here..." Aimless chuckles as Misfire continues to push his way around the track, stuck in Third.

<<Lap 2: COMPLETE.>>

Blurr's displays notify him that he has begun the final leg of the race. And he is still in the lead. No surprise there. Looks like Blast Off is still on the second lap, but not ridiculously far behind, while the others are still playing games back there, which was perfectly fine. It certainly kept Swindle from harassing him. Misfire is still in third, but he's not worried about the Targetmaster, because he's bound to fail, one way or another, sooner or later.

Blurr chuckles inwardly at the commentator's words.

"Heh." he says to himself. "He's sure got that one right."

Blurr's voice comes on Blast Off's hailing freqency. <<Ya hear that, Blasty? Looking pretty grim for anyone trying to catch up to me! Nothing new there, though. Haha!>> he taunts.

"I can get you a great deal on a used portable holo-screen projector!" Swindle remarks to the Targetmaster and partner as the two pass him on the track. Looks like he gave those Autobots the ditch for the moment, so he can turn his attention to other possible deals to be made.

Perhaps Hubcap has been trying the wrong strategy. And now the only ones around him are friends.

Space Shuttle <Blast Off> can't believe it. Blurr is WINNING???!!! How is this possible? Did he cheat? That MUST be it.... or one of Blurr's cursed 'Bot "buddies" did..... Blast Off's mind goes through a "race" of its own- desperately searching for an excuse, any excuse. But the Combaticon fails to find any for now....and Blurr is still ahead. TOO FAR ahead..... A small surge of panic begins to form inside his spark for the first time. Only (slightly) soothed by Misfire's opera broadcast. Then he hears Blurr's radio taunt. Furious, the shuttle has no reply for Blurr. There....there are no words right now. He just keeps pressing ahead.

Race: The racers speed around the track, and the scoreboard lights up with the new race standings... Race: Cybertronian Hovercar <Blurr> crosses the finish line!

Race: Advanced 13 positions. Race: Space Shuttle <Blast Off> crosses the finish line!

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===============[ Racetrack Attack! ]============================= Racer                         Pos Lap Defense-Level -- +Lil' Yellow Porsche <Hubcap>  8   1   NEUTRAL        -- ->Space Shuttle <Blast Off>     9   3   FEARLESS       -- +Cybertronian Hovercar <Blurr> 11  3   AGGRESSIVE     -- +Cybertronian Speeder <Shiftlo 11  1   FEARLESS       -- Military Gunnery Jeep <Swindl 13  1   GUARDED        -- Twin-Nosed Jet <Misfire>      17  2   FEARLESS       --

+ Racer within ramming distance -> You!

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============[ Sorted by Track Position ]=========================

Military Gunnery Jeep <Swindle> rolls to a slow pace as ....Blurr -and- Blast Off cross the finish line? Is it a tie? A photo finish? .... Damn, he should of sold the cameras for that so he could rig them. Oh well. It's someone else's problem to figure out just who the victor is. "Welp, it looks like my job here is done." Pause. "Time to go collect the betting pools!"

Racing around the track, Misfire ejects Aimless and reverts to his Robot Mode, the pair struggle with each other in mid air and then hit the ground in a puff of smoke,the pair get up and slap at each other like children...which requires Misfire to crouch down. After a moment, an official come by and then says, "Third Place...straighten up?"

Stopping to stare at each other, Aimless and Misfire then hi-five and shout in unison, "WE MAKE AN AWESOME TEAM!" They then point at each other, "Don't do that...GAH!!!" The pair say in unison before looking away from each other.

Race: Cybertronian Speeder <Shiftlock> leaves the race. Cybertronian Speeder <Shiftlock> has no further interest in racing since everyone's placed. She speeds off the track, happy to have mixed it up with Swindle again. He's her favorite punching bag, next to Air Raid.

Blurr is focused on the finish line as it comes racing up to meet him. Looks like this is going to be a win for him! Like usual, of course. The crowd roars even louder though, seeing that it is going to be a close race! Blast Off is RIGHT on Blurr's tailpipes, and in fact, it looks like they're neck and neck!

FWWOOOSH! Blurr speeds past the finish line! But wait, Blast Off did as well! Who won? It's actually hard to tell. Maybe even impossible for the unaided optic...but the timers will tell, no doubt! Every head in the audience turns, craning toward the scoreboard in anticipation of the results! Who will it be, Blurr or Blast Off??!

"AND THE CROWD GOES WILD!!!!" The Announcer and most of the audience cheer loudly enough to potentially split a few eardrums- or equivalents thereof. One- or... is it two? entrants cross the finish line. "Wait, folks....we're...not sure who won. LOOKS LIKE A PHOTO FINISH!" The crowds cheer again and wait....and finally: "WE have OURSELVES a WINNER- BLURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!" The roar of the crowd can probably be heard back on Cybertron. Once the roar dies down a bit, there's a second announcement: "But- it's such a close call! Blurr was defintitely ahead, but Blast Off was so close that our judges have decided to... give him a second place prize!!!! We'll sort this out and see you at the winner's stand! Thank you to everyone who came out today!!!!!"

The Non-Terran Plane quickly begins to unfold. The rear engines slide down and form two bulky legs. The arms unfold from underneath the plan's body. The front spires on the cockpit slide up the back and sit above his head. Where there was once a plane there is now Misfire.

And Blurr is victorious once again, having beaten Blast Off by just a quarter of an astrosecond, it would seem. He transforms as the holographic scoreboards light up the final standings, smirking over his shoulder at the Combaticon. "Told you you'd never beat me." he says smugly. "But I guess you're luck, you get to claim a little consolation prize."

And then he waltzes over to the stand to claim first place winnings.

The jeep flips back and up, revealing a lean mean black market machine. Swindle meanwhile goes to find the bookies. Not his bookies, the ones that collected all the cash on Blurr winning. They're the ones worth extorting after tonight.

Blast Off shifts into his battle-ready robot mode.

Blast Off is so close he can TASTE IT...uuhhh...except that means Blurr's afterburners are probably in his face. Well, um, maybe not THAT. But the space shuttle tastes VICTORY again, as he gets closer...and closer.... and closer.... and then they're through the finish line. But....Blurr was still ever-so-slightly ahead. WHAAAAT. The rest after that seems like...well, a blurr. Time gets into a strange really-fast and yet really-slow state as Blast Off tries to make sense of what just happened. He transforms and is standing there, still among the chaos, when he hears something about him winning ...second place? Blast Off's spark just sinks, but he heads towards the winner's circle. Blurr throws an insult to him, but he is still too furious to even answer the 'Bot.

He stands and watches as his arch-rival gets a trophy, flowers, and is informed that his SuperScope XT1000 will arrive shortly. This is humilating....but for HIM, not Blurr. Optics glare at the winner. After the cheering dies down slightly, the judges come and hand Blast Off a...medal. They congratulate him for a really good try! Blast Off just stands there and stares at the medal, then stares at Blurr, saying nothing. Finally, he moves slightly towards the "bot. Holding his medal, he stares at Blurr some more...then nods his head in a stiff, sullen, but unmistakably "courteous" gesture of "congratulations". Blast Off is a "civilized" mech, after all. Then he walks out of there and doesn't look back.

The hovercar quickly unfolds upward and outward to reveal the fastest terrestrial Cybertronian in the galaxy, Blurr!

Blurr just smirks as Blast Off nods sullenly and walks away. But once the Combaticon is gone, something else occurs to him. Something that he hadn't thought of during the race, but that he'd considered before. Where were these Velocitronians getting this military hardware? Or was the Racing Association actually behind this at all? These mechs weren't the types to be offering those kinds of prizes--if they were...someone had to be baiting them. Someone wanted Cybertronians in this race. But why? Maybe an especially rich old fan of his?

Heh, probably.

But his mind is pulled away from those thoughts as more of his fan-following rush up to him, fawning and begging for autographs, which he happily obliges...

Looking around, Misfire sighs...Nobody cares about third...scuffling around for a moment, Aimless moves to grab a small piece of the racetrack, slapping Misfire. "Look there is Blast Off...go get him! He is our ride out of here!" Misfire nods, "Yeah, Blast Off looks like he could use a friend." Looking at each other, the pair take off after Blast Off, "Blast Off! Wait up! I have Flasks!" Misfire and Aimless jog after Blast Off. Aimless clutching his stolen small prize.


 * EPILOGUE*******

Velocitron

At first glance, Veloctrion might remind the optic of Cybertron. Completely cyberformed, the planet is different from the homeworld of the Transformers in that it is much smaller -- but also completely undamaged by conflict. Indeed, the world's criss-crossing maze of highways, loop-d'loops and bridges appear to be pristine and well-maintained. Various vehicles seem to be zipping at top speed at all times, creating quite the flurry of activity.

Just outside the racetrack and above some of the stands, a building with a view of the surrounding area stands tall. This is where the race officials conduct business. Immediately below this area is a stage, where photo ops occur. It is here that officials, media, and some of the racers are gathering to watch Blurr receive his amazing new scope. Everyone awaits Blurr's entrance. Several Velocitronians in sharp get-ups stand at one end of the stage. Photographers crowd the rims, waiting to get their best-selling photo of the race winner! Another official, slightly smaller than most of the others, waits to guide Blurr onto the stage.

Blurr makes his way up to the stage, waving and smiling at the adoring crowd as he goes, and handing out the occasional autograph. He's used to this kind of thing, in fact, he practically spent his whole life before the war doing it. PR campaigns, imaging sessions, publicity stunts, parties--when he wasn't racing, he was bound to be doing one of those things. He nods to the smaller official, indicating that he is ready to begin.

The smaller official gives a slightly oily smile in return and gestures for Blurr to stand on the center of the stage. There, a tall, rather bulky pale green and black Velotitron joins the smaller official, holding a large box. He speaks to the crowd: "We are here today to celebrate our Grand Champion- Blurr, the Fastest Cybertonian in the GALAXYYYY!!! Blurr, before I give you your well-deserved prize, please tell us your impressions of the race today. How did it feel to be back, adored by so many? How did it feel to WIN?" The crowd cheers at this.

Blurr is slightly disturbed by the look on that official's face. It kinda gave him this feeling...in his struts...that there was something up here. More than just an award ceremony with a bunch of photographers, journalists and adoring fans. He's seen those types, they remind him of Swindle, which is never a good sign. But...what can he do? The optics of his fanbase are waiting on him to appear, eager to take more pictures of him and shout his name with approval. What could possibly go wrong?

So he nods and takes center stage, smirking at the questions and replying with a simple, "Just like it always has."

The green and black Official chuckles and nods, patting Blurr on the shoulder. He goes on to thank their sponsors- try some Maccadam's today!!!- and various business and city officials. Then he opens the box. Inside is the SuperScope XT1000! The scope has an amazing number of dials, buttons, and rings on it. The official hands the scope and box to Blurr, noting that there are instructions inside. "It's quite an amazing piece of technology, Blurr. I imgaine this will give a nice boost to your war efforts! We really appreciate that you could find the time to come out here and race in our racetrack!" He guides Blurr into a few more onstage photo ops. Then the smaller official comes close again. "Do you like your prize, Blurr? Why don't you put it on your scope right now? We'd better make sure everything is working properly..." The crowd yells its approval.

Indeed, the crowd approves!

"Yeah! Go ahead and install it right now, we want to see it in action!" One of them cries out, and the rest shout their approval. Blurr finally caves in to the pressure and nods. "Well, it'd better work, hah!"

He lifts it out of the box and slaps it onto his right arm. Immediately, his weapons expand out of his arm and interface with the scope--it appears to be perfectly compatible with his body. The audience oohs and ahhs at it.

The official's oily smile just seems to get all the MORE oily as Blurr puts on the scope. He seems to be watching for a reaction. "So....how does it feel? Any ...different?"

Hinder has arrived.

Blurr's optics darken ever so slightly, and he has a strange look on his face for a second. Most mechs probably wouldn't notice, unless they were looking very closely. Or if they were Searchlight, or someone.

There is an odd silence, before someone suddenly speaks up.

"HEY!" A fembot in the crowd shouts. "Try it out, shoot something in the distance!" She says eagerly, her face shining.

The official considers the femmebot's request. "Yes, Blurr, why don't you do that? I see someone left an energon drink waaaay over there....see it? (He points.) It looks empty, probably just trash." He turns to the crowd. "Whaddaya think? Should he try out his new scope? See if he can hit that target?" The crowd cheers, of course. He turns back, grinning. "GO FOR IT."

Hinder has been slinking about in the crowds, her shorter than average cassette stature making it both easier and more difficult to do so. She can skirt between others, but it at constant risk of getting stepped on, and by the scruffs on her feet it's happened a few times already. When Blurr is encouraged to test out his sharpshooting skills, she takes the chance to slink still closer. She's not had much chance at all to snoop on Autobots lately, so happening upon Blurr here was a pleasant surprise. Hopefully Soundwave will reward her for whatever useful info she might find.

Blurr nods and raises his right arm, his guns charging briefly before they suddenly discharge, firing at the empty glass. Sure enough, the blast shatters the piece of trash, but leaves the table it had been sitting on completely intact!

The crowd gasps in awe, then applauds, commending whoever had designed the scope, as well as Blurr's shooting skills.

Hinder tilts her head, studying Blurr instead of watching his shooting prowess. If the speedy Autobot is paying attention, he might notice the one pair of red optics watching him unwaveringly.

The slightly oily official rubs his hands together, still smiling. "Well, that was a great shot, wasn't it?" (*Cheeeeers*) He holds his hands high in the air. "Give the Autobot another cheeer!" (*cheeeer*) "Heh heh." He looks out over the crowd- and it is he who spots Hinder. "Hmmm...hey, you! C'mere! You're just the right size.... And you're Decepticon, right? Let's get some drama here.... Bot VS Con! Don't worry, though... no battles are alllowed here. I just need some audience participation.

As all of this is going on, Blurr just kind of...stands there with a blank expression on his face. Most of the people in the crowd are too excited to notice this oddity--plus, none of them really know that much about him personally. They've only seen him in pictures or on the videopane.

Hinder actually takes several seconds to realize the announcer is pointing to her and addressing her. But when she does, she jumps in place in surprise then starts trying to back away from the announcer's attention. The last time she was the center of attention, she was strapped to the wing of a plane and used as a sensing device. VERY undignified.

The official gestures at Harrow to come up on the stage. "Awww, don't be like that! I assure you, I simply want you to throw these targets up in the air for Blurr to shoot at!" He holds up some light clay targets- they look like Frisbees. Meanwhile, Blurr may begin to sort of..."hear" something inside his head. It starts as a low static, but grows until he can hear an actual voice. "...hear me? Can you hear me? Nod your head if you can hear me." Blurr probably feels a strong compulsion to do so.

Hinder stops and stares at the official, then holds up one front foot at a time, as if trying to tell the individual something. You know, something like 'I don't have THUMBS. I can't throw those things'. Of course, since the official has pointed her out to the rest of the crowd, now they're starting to push her toward the stage. Not good. Not good at all.

Yep, the fans are starting to push her toward the stage from all sides. They want her to at least try, even if she doesn't have hands. "Aww, come on! Let's see what you've got!" One of them calls out. Most Velocitronians don't care much for the Cybertronian War, and thus don't really pay attention to Decepticons and Autobots. Their lives are about racing, and racing only.

Meanwhile, Blurr...does indeed feel a strong compulsion to do as the strange voice is telling him. He tries to resist it but finds that he simply cannot. It's terrifying--almost as if someone else other than himself has gotten inside of him and is controling his movements. ..yet there is nothing he can do about it now.

The official doesn't really notice about Hinder... his attention is focused on Blurr. "Thumbs... right....gotcha! You'll figure out something..." he waves her off. The poor Cassetteicon is pushed right up onto stage. The voice inside Blurr's head grows stronger as the hovercar 'Bot nods his head, as told. "Excellent. You work for me, now...whether you like it or not. For now, you will go about your business as usual. But I will be asking for...favors. I wanted the fastest Cybertronian, and now you are mine. You will do errands for me. But for today- accept your adoring public and do what my oily friend here tells you to. You may find that some things...are different, mentally, physically.... To tell you the truth, I'm not sure how this program I installed in that scope will affect your circuitry. But it shouldn't affect your speed- or your ability to do what I tell you....That is all, for now. Let no one know about me. Cover things up if you need to, but if I call, I expect you to answer." The mysterious voice fades. The smaller official tells Blurr to stand by the edge of the stage. He then encourages Hinder to throw the targets- somehow- and tells Blurr to shoot them when they reach their peak arc in the air.

Oohh....great...

Blurr thinks to himself, though honestly even thinking to himself seems to be getting harder and harder with every passing moment. This wouldn't be the first time he's had someone or something else in his head, and last time was -not- pleasant.

As commanded, he moves over to the edge of the stage and waits for Hinder to attempt to throw the targets in the air while the crowds watched in anticipation.

Hinder yips and tries to squirm away, and even bites at various people in the audience, but none of it helps. She ends up on the stage and seems not at all pleased about it. Brieftly debating just biting the official and trying to flee then realizing it would not go over so well, she resigns herself to her fate and shuffles over to paw at the first frisbee-thing. Flipping it upside down after a bit of effort, she picks it up in her teeth and debates if this is going to work.

Completely unaware of Blurr's inner turmoil, she takes a few hopping steps then flings the 'clay pigeon' as best she can. meaning, it goes straight into the audience.

Finally.... the Bot and the Con are in place. The official smirks again as Blurr does as told. His optics open slightly as Hinder throws the target into the crowd. "Tch! Don't actually hit a member of our audience, Blurr.... it wouldn't be good for business! Just... impress us all with your amazing shooting skills!"

Blurr will certainly -try- not to hit an innocent bystander! The blast strikes the clay target as it flies just over their heads and shatters into hundreds of pieces that shower down to the ground. The crowd cheers and applauds, highly entertained by all of this.

"Well done!" Am I right, folks?" *CHEEEER* The official grins again, a slightly sinister glint to his eyes. "Well, I think that's enough for now... let's give another round of applause for Blurr!" *CHEEEEEEEEEEEEER* "....And...this little one! (*points to Hinder*)" *Yay!* The official keeps his gaze steadily upon Blurr as he guides him to the edge of the stage and its exit. "We'll be.... seeing you."

Hinder actually cringes a bit as Blurr manages to hit the poorly-thrown frisbee-thing. Not because she nearly hit someone, but because Blurr hit it so easily. Soundwave is sure to see that on the newswaves. And the cheering. Too loud. Way too loud. So she escapes the way a cassette is best at: she transforms into a tiny off-white rectangle, falls through the spaces in the flooring slats, and waits underneath the stage until every thing is quiet.

Blurr follows the sinister official off the stage, nodding at his words. Normally he would have looked quite proud of his racing and shooting achievements, as well as having at least given Hinder a contemptuous glare or something. But nope, none of that this cycle. He looks rather bland, in fact, as if he were indifferent to it all.

The crowd begins to disperse, all excitedly chattering about the events of the day. Blurr transforms, folding down into his vehicle form before taking off. Several members of the audience stop walking to watch him take off with awe, a few of them taking a few more image captures before leaving the premises.

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