Spotlight: Boomslang, Issue 4

Cap Skirring! This coastal town on the very most southwestern point of Basse Casamance is somewhat less broken and degraded than the rest of the country, having been a tourist resort for visiting Europeans and Americans for decades. It sports both an airport and a golf course near the coastal hotels, and the town climbing up the slope of the hills behind the hotel district is somewhat more affluent than the rest of Senegal to match. The water laps gently against beaches which gleam in the moonlight, and you can't even hear any gunfire.

Groove bends down falling upon himself to the ground, his body twists and transforms into a white Honda Goldwing GL1200 complete with sirens, lights, and a peace sign bumpersticker. Oh look ..flashy!

The point of interest to the Autobots here is a warehouse district used to store goods offloaded from cargo ships before they can be shipped out into the interior of Casamance on rickety old Mercedes lorries. A few of these warehouses in particular are believed to belong to Casamance's independence movement, the MFDC. Steeljaw has traced the scent of high explosives and traces of VX nerve gas to one of them, and although Rodimus Prime has ordered the Autobots not to interfere so directly as to steal the armaments from the humans they belong to, there is more going on here than meets the eye.

Nightbeat has been lying in wait under a sandy-coloured camo net near the weapon depot that Red Alert and his crew discovered some weeks back. Surely, the criminal will return to the scene of the crime? If not, the criminal will be violating a lot of detective cliches, and that would make for a rather boring story. With him, Nightbeat has a Protectobot to help him with the stakeout. Streetwise? No, with Nightbeat, there is...

Harley  is sitting in the open quietly, too quietly, weather he's lost in thought or just thinking too hard one can not besure, he rolls slightly forward on his tires and stops again, the first movement in the little motorcycle in over an hour or so. He lets out a sigh, but says nothing, his wheels shift again and he pulls back to his first position.

The wail of a police siren can be heard somewhere else in the town. Thanks to the tourist presence here in Cap Skirring there actually are police, unusually enough for Casamance. The basso moan of a ship horn comes from the direction of the beach as a ferry from further up the coastline approaches the port.

Motorcycle  sighs and rolls back "Sounds like trouble" he murmers quietly to himself. If it's loud enough for Nightbeat to hear he should get a prize. "Why can't people just leave well enough alone?" he sighs again rolling back and forth slightly.

Nightbeat is entirely fine with Groove being quiet. Noise is particularly annoying to him, given his sensitive audios, but speaking of those... he hears something coming, he thinks. Nightbeat focuses his attention, trying sort out the information - police siren, ship horn, tourists... Nightbeat probably gets a prize, then, for hearing Groove, as he can hear a screw falling five miles away. "'cos they're people."

A soft but heavy thumping approaches up the beach from the direction of the ferry, changing to more of a clacking sound as it follows the street up towards the warehouses.

Motorcycle  rolls to nightbeat's side "You hear that?" he twists his front tire "That doesn't sound good at all..." he is slightly worried

Nightbeat stays still under the camo net, though having a red and white motorcycle next to him rather blows his cover. He says softly, "Oh yeah. Clacking noise... rhythmic. Hm. Like footsteps. Where have I heard those before? Oh yes, I was on..." Nightbeat catches himself before he slips into a monologue, and he instead focuses on the sound.

The invisible seeker, unaware of the hidden Autobots, continues up to the warehouses. There is a soft clanking as he jimmies the lock, and then a loud grinding scrape as he rolls the sliding door back and ducks inside, searching for something.

Motorcycle  ever fidgity turns his front tire to Nightbeat "What do you hear?" he asks quietly, not that it's that important but he just doesn't like being completely unaware.

Nightbeat raises on finger near his lips, and he exposits quietly, as low as he reckons Groove can hear, "Not a what but a who. That's the invisible Seeker out there. Tangled with him before. Nasty piece of work. He's codename 'Boomslang' - and meaner than a snake, he is. There have been reports of F-18s out here in Africa, and Ultra Magnus reported Boomslang himself and a little friend, so that all jives."

Motorcycle  twists slowly and whispers "so do you think it's just him?" he asks "I'm not much of a combat bot...rather not if I can help it..." he sighs "But earth being what it is...." he sighs quietly. "Are we gonna check it out?" full of questions this one, you could guess it's from not being so social all the time.

There is a quiet sort of rummaging sound inside the warehouse. It sounds like someone moving pallets with a crane.

Nightbeat growls, voice still quiet, "Think? No. I know it's him. Fragger. Can't say I wanna get in a fight with him. Boomslang took out Slag in the Olympics. Those are just sporting matches, but still. Let's just get a better view." His dims the brightness on his optical band, and he rises in a half-crouch, trying to glance in a warehouse window.

The goldwing shifts forward on it's front wheel and it transforms slowly. Pushing off the ground with a fist Grove stands setting both servos firmly on the ground, looking out at the world through bright blue optics.

Groove stands by nightbeat slowly and looks at him "whatcha see?" he slides up to look in the window.

From the warehouse window one can see, once ones' eyes (or equivalent) adjust to the darkness inside the cavernous building, many stacked wooden crates. Most of them are labelled with painted stencils, numbers and short alphanumeric codes. A few of them have strange markings on them that correspond to no modern human language. They look almost like Mayan glyphs. One of these smaller crates appears to poke itself out of an aisle of steel shelving, then tip over and float down close to the ground, where it disappears as if it had gone behind something that can't be seen.

Nightbeat steps aside so that Groove can see for himself. Or perhaps not see for himself, as something invisible is moving crates. He says, "Take a look-see. Magical vanishing crates. That's our boy's work, right there."

Groove nods and looks up "What should we do about it?" he sighs "Send a message back home?" he questions "or just observe and report back later?" he's got his optics fixed on the scene inside and doesn't move away from the window watching the crates.

After a while the crate reappears and slides back into its position on the shelving. Another, much larger crate seems to lever its own top open, revealing several white cylinders packed in excelsior. These lift up and disappear into thin air like the first crate did. As the lid of the crate settles back onto it and the nails start to sink back down into the wood as if being pushed down by a giant invisible thumb, there is suddenly a soft whir and a pair of dimly luminescent yellow eyes appear, looking up furtively at the window and locking on Groove's own, following the sound of the Autobot's voice. The eyes narrow, and a nearby forklift crashes over onto its side, then flips up to stand on its end in front of and below the eyes. There is a high-pitched whining sound, like an electric motor being engaged and spinning up to speed. Combat: Boomslang sets his defense level to Guarded.

Nightbeat considers what Autobots are available at this time of day, in this segment of the galaxy. Ultra Magnus and Grimlock are inconveniently AWOL, and Rodimus Prime is probably busy making press releases again. Jazz and Kup are busy, which means... oh, hi. This is Nightbeat's call. He grits out softly, "Slaggit. Here's the deal. We need to find the Decepticons' contact here, who they're working for. We got an idea. If we just rush in there, fists swinging, we'll spook the quarry. So, I gotta say - just observe and report back."

But this is not sounding good!

Combat: Boomslang misses Groove with his 40mm Rotary Grenade Launcher Area attack! [Pulled -1] Combat: Boomslang strikes Nightbeat with his 40mm Rotary Grenade Launcher Area attack! [Pulled -1]

Groove backs away from the wall "SLAG..." he utters quietly "Incoming!" he backs away pulling nightbeat's arm "Back up..." he says "we need to regroup here." he's firm in that knowing that neither of them are prepared at the moment.

The whining sound is drowned out by a racket of explosions as something stutters and flashes down on the warehouse floor, and shrapnel bursts around the window, several shells passing through the shattered glass and exploding against the wall of the next warehouse over, directly behind the Autobots.

If this was a cop movie, Nightbeat would fall down, clutching his wounds, say something pithy but wise, and then die, leaving Groove to track down the killer.

This is not a cop movie. Nightbeat just staggers about a bit. He brings a hand in to hold the seeping damages, and it comes away pink with energon. It just makes the hard-bitten detective frown. "Lemme revise that. He knows we're here. Let's go get 'im! You circle around that way." Nightbeat points. Then, he runs around the other way, looking for the other entrance.

Combat: Nightbeat takes extra time to steady himself. [Pass]

Groove sighs "great..." he utters and runs the other way moving around to get into position to fight somehting he still can not see.

Combat: Groove takes extra time to steady himself. [Pass]

Boomslang, having switched off his cloaking field to conserve power for moving quickly, almost runs into Groove in his haste to get out of the warehouse with his ill-gotten gains. He looks like a normal conehead seeker, except that he's carrying what appear to be giant fuel or cargo tanks on his wings' inner hardpoints; these must be where he was storing the things he was stealing from the MFDC warehouse. "Get out of my way, lightweight," he hisses in a kind of scornful drawl, driving an elbow forward to try to knock Groove down and go through him on his way out. Combat: Boomslang strikes Groove with his Hard Elbow (Punch) attack!

Groove groans and falls into the ground rolling over slowly he stands up "HEY!" he growls and turns over and shakes his head and pulls his photon pistol and aims for the seeker. "Stop right where you are..." He doesn't fire only threatens to should the con move. Groover hates days like this, why can't we all just get along?

Combat: Groove takes extra time to steady himself. [Pass]

Of course Boomslang would head for the exit that Groove is covering! It just figures! If Nightbeat leaves the exit he's guarding to run for Groove's exit, Boomslang can make a break that way. So Nightbeat sighs and enter the warehouse, trying to flank Boomslang. The aisles packed with crates provide too many obstacles to shoot through, however.

Combat: Nightbeat takes extra time to steady himself. [Pass]

Boomslang stops and turns slowly towards Groove, the light of Cap Skirrring's lighthouse silhouetting his head and shoulders from behind, and the folded wings bristling with munitions. He holds up his hands, open and empty. "Okay, okay, don't shoot! Give me just a minute here..." There is an abrupt clack as something shiny ejects from his left wrist. In one motion he snatches it out of the air with his right hand, turns to present his narrow side to Groove, and draws on him- the shiny thing is a revolver with a four foot long barrel. "...to KILL YOU!" finishes Boomslang with a sneering laugh as he pulls the trigger.

Combat: Boomslang misses Groove with his 75mm HVAP Anti-Tank Revolver attack!

Combat: Groove sets his defense level to Aggressive.

Groove rolls out of the way and curses a moment before rolling up to his feet "I warned you" he says and shoots towards the con.

Combat: Groove misses Boomslang with his Photon Pistol attack!

Nightbeat can't do anything to help Groove as Boomslang shows his true colours, and it guts him. Shots are fired, but there's not the sound of paint being vapourised, so Nightbeat's gonna assume those were misses. He rounds a stack of crates, and he comes across the tableau, from behind Boomslang. He raises his plasma blaster, and he growls, "Drop the goods, drip." Combat: Nightbeat strikes Boomslang with his Plasma Blaster attack! Combat: You took 13 damage.

"Not a- ungh!" replies Boomslang, turning around just in time to catch a plasma bolt to the chest which knocks him back with a crash into an elderly panel van which has been inexpertly modified into a pickup truck. "If you know what's good for you, you won't try to follow me," Boomslang says, pointing an arm upwards. An autocannon snaps out of his forearm, with which he saws a large circle out of the ceiling of the warehouse. The building fills with smoke as he ignites his engines and blasts up through the weakened section of the ceiling, landing on the roof with a resounding clang. Combat: Boomslang sets his defense level to Protected. Combat: Boomslang takes extra time to steady himself. [Pass]

Groove rolls forward "Oh no you don't!" he tries to fire on the seeker once more "Slagger!" he calls out which is very much unlike him. Combat: Groove strikes Boomslang with his Photon Pistol attack! Combat: You took 3 damage. Combat: That attack has temporarily affected Boomslang's Accuracy.

Nightbeat snarls, "And here's me, fresh outta rocket boosters! Well, shoot." Hs head tilts to one side - my, my, my! Boomslang really has Groove all riled up! That is unusual. Perhaps the Decepticons have developed some sort of hatred toxin and intend to deliver it en masse via the Weteyes that Boomslang is stealing, even now? He dives out the exit and transforms. A photon pistol pops out of his hood and follows Boomslang's path up, loosing a shot. Nightbeat slouches down into Porsche 959 form. Time to roll.

Combat: Nightbeat sets his defense level to Aggressive. Combat: Overpriced Hovercar  strikes Boomslang with his Hood Photon Turrets attack! Combat: You took 6 damage.

The sound of sirens is growing very loud outside. People are shouting in Wolof, police and fire trucks rushing to the sound of all the deafening gunfire and clashing giant robots. Shots bracket Boomslang from all sides as he is illuminated by the spotlights of the police cars, energy blasts cracking against his armor. "Hngh! All right, you mess with the bull and you get the horns. There's more where this lot came from." He runs to the edge of the roof and leaps off as police machineguns chatter after him. With the usual ratcheting sound, Boomslang spins and flips and turns into a fighter jet.

F/A-18 Super Hornet  blasts off into the sky with the distinctive snap-boom of afterburners igniting, rolls back in a twisting loop, and lines up a pass over the Autobots and the warehouse they're in/around. A pair of bombs detach from his hardpoints and tumble down...

Combat: Boomslang sets his defense level to Fearless.

Combat: F/A-18 Super Hornet  misses Groove with his Mk.77 Incendiary Bomb Area attack! Combat: F/A-18 Super Hornet  strikes Porsche 959  with his Mk.77 Incendiary Bomb Area attack! Combat: Used up 1 Bombs. 4 remain.

A roiling wall of fire roars up fifty feet into the sky, covering the warehouse and its general vicinity and rolling down in the direction of Boomslang's flight path like a tidal wave, consuming one of the firetrucks (ironically enough) and two police cars, as well as three blocks of the town behind it. Shouting turns to screams, some of pain and some of panic, amid the roar of the fire.

Groove transforms and makes his way out of there the motorcycle speeding to catch up with nightbeat. "This is insane by the way." he reminds his companion moving out of the way of the incendiary bomb, unfortunately he watches Nightbeat get hit.

The fire crackles across the roof of the warehouse, windows shattering from the heat... if it should get inside and set off the munitions there, who knows what damage it could do to the surrounding town!

Porsche 959  cries out in pain as the flames consume him. Muzzle, Nightbeat's little Nebulan partner, bails out of the doomed Porsche. The Nebulan drops and rolls, getting to his feet. The Headmaster armour has saved him from the worst of the flames, and he takes in the tableau in dismay. Muzzle raises one hand, looks to Groove, and groans, "We gotta put out this fire before the entire weapons depot goes up in flames. You're a Protectobot. You know how to put out fires, right?"

Combat: Porsche 959  takes extra time to steady himself. [Pass]

Some of the firemen from the surviving truck are hustling to get their truck hooked up to a hydrant while others loose the contents of the truck's onboard fire-retardant foam tank on their comrades; the pressure sends the stricken firemen tumbling across the ground, but it's better than being consumed by jellied kerosene. The police are falling back in disarray.

Groove slows to a hault "What!?" he turns "Ah slag..." his judgement gets the btter of him, he turns leaving the seeker and returns to the humans. Looking around for something to use to put out the flames. "Primus...this isn't my day."

Combat: Groove takes extra time to steady himself. [Pass]

F/A-18 Super Hornet  follows the lay of the town towards the sea, accelerating as he gets the open ocean in front of him until the bright spots of his engines disappear over the horizon.

Combat: F/A-18 Super Hornet  begins retreating, outrunning all pursuit.

Muzzle reunited with Nightbeat as the flames on the Porsche eventually gutter out, and he rises into robot mode. Okay, They're relatively near a port. Lots of water there. Hopefully the fire's not hot enough that water won't put it out. He shouts, "Groove, mind the warehouse! Don't let it explode!" He runs for the port and tries to grab a dinghy and fill it with water, to make himself an impove fire bucket. Boomslang's butt-kicking will have to wait for another day.

Groove rolls his optics "oh for pits sake!" he turns and tries to grab up some of the more flamible objects moving them back from the warehouse. "Get out of the way!" he says to some of the humans "Before you are fried" he grabs another crate pulling it back.

Water seems mainly to spread the fire around. The distinctive acrid smell of burning gasoline, benzene and styrofoam fills the air as the firemen, who have run out of fire-retardant foam, bravely try to battle the flames with water and only succeed in making it worse!

Nightbeat is forced to discard the idea of filling a boat with water, as it becomes clear that was he needs is fire retardant foam. And he doesn't have that. Nightbeat did just tell Air Raid to go stuff himself with fire retardant foam, though, which might help. If Air Raid can make it in time. His hands clench into fists - crisis response is not his thing! "I, uh... firebreaks! We can at least dig firebreaks, try to keep it from spreading." She ssprints back toward the warehouse and busies himself digging a deep and wide trench aroudn the warehouse. Every soldier knows how to dig a trench.

A hovercraft zooms overhead, its hatch open. Foxfire can be seen in the opening, and then he jumps from it, a parachute extending from the pack he has attached to him. (Yes, Foxfire can fly, but he found this method more badass.) As he descends, he suddenly cuts the cords with his claws and drops down, only to land on his paws and immediately he takes off at a full run toward the flames. Yes, the fire-resistant saboteur has arrived! And he's ready to rescue people.

F-15 Eagle  tears through the sky toting fire retardant that's haphazardly seeping from his seams. "I'm here! Everyone relax! ...Groove, what'd you do! Aren't you one of those 'save the forest' saps? Bahh, whatev'. BOMBS AWAY!" The jet circles above the warehouse of sorts, hatches flying open to drop some of the foam. He's sure to get some of it on Nightbeat.

The firemen draw back at Groove's warning, shouting to eachother in Wolof to get the truck out of the way as it is not helping.

Groove looks up and shakes his head and tries to help the humans get back "Please this way." he tells them as he motions them back knowing what's coming is not good. He also has a trailing thought that comedy is not Air Raid's style and he shouldn't give up his day job.

Nightbeat is covered in thick, white, sticky foam, courrtesy of Air Raid. His Nebulan partner, Muzzle, dies a little more inside. Nigghtbeat, however, pauses in trench digging just long enough to shout up at Air Raid, "On the fire, you airhead, the fire! Just pretend the fire is a bunch o' ugly Decepticons, an' the foam is a bunch of really stupid dumb bombs!" Worst firefighting motivational speech ever? It just might be. He resumes trench-digging, frantic yet disgruntled.

Nightbeat's speech works! Raid twirls and banks to drop another foamy sheet upon the warehouse, "DIE 'CON SCUM! ...These bombs suck." He ends up splattering poor Nightbeat again. "Sorry sir!" Get your detectivey aft out of the way!

Groove rolls his optics at Raid's antics. "You ok Nightbeat?" he asks helping the last of the humans out of the way.

As the foam washes over the burning warehouse, the fire is choked out as surely as if someone had smothered it with a giant blanket. Although the corrugated metal walls are still creaking and popping from the heat, the immediate danger is past- the black market weaponry stored inside has not exploded and isn't likely to now!

Still, that doesn't mean there aren't other fires, both napalm and conventional, raging through the immediate area that need the attention of the heroic Autobots.

Foxfire reaches the trench that Nightbeat is digging. He backs up, then takes a running leap and jumps right over it, into the potentially deadly flames. The scent of smoke is everywhere, mingling with those of the people who may be trapped. The fire does not seem to affect him, although it does create a spiffy silhouette of him.

Groove moves to put out smaller fires using his feet to step on each one, and uses sand for bigger ones trying to get them down to size. "This is not what I wanted to be doing this morning." he reminds himself and walks up brushing his hand against a tree to get the firey mess away from it.

Nightbeat is covered in fire retardant foam. He wonders if he could now put out fires just by rolling on them, but he doesn't want to try it. He hollers over at Groove, "Don't worry about me! Get to digging firebreaks, to try to stop the fire from spreading. Keep it contained, so Air Raid can hit it with his sticky white foam!" He just shakes his head as Foxfire leaps into the fire and mutters, "Primus's speed, little canine guy. Primus's speed." He takes a moment to see if the warehouse is going to stay up or if he needs to support it.

F-15 Eagle  darts around attempting to smother the rest of the smaller fires, but it's a fair bit hard to aim foam, and the Aerialbot is certainly not a bomber. "Stay...still...!" *splut* "AHA! The 'cons are as good as dead, sir!"

Groove shudders as he gets hit by some of the foam "Oh for pits sake!" he groans and shakes it off his body and moves to the next smaller fire. "Nightbeat can I kill him later?" he asks

Eight Tiny Reindeer and a Gold Sleigh CF-130 Super Hercules appears on the horizon, chugging his way at full speed as fast as he could, his blades pitchd at a high whine.

"Sorry Groover," Raid chimes as he barrel rolls and slings foam just about everywhere. "Slag... I ran out..."

Foxfire disappears amongst the flames...

Nightbeat mutters, "Hey, Groove, I can tell you, I won't be on monitor duty for the next five hours, if you wanna vent your frustrations. And I can tell you how to falsify ballistics evidence real good." Nightbeat is perhaps not the nicest Autobot. Still, he keeps slogging with digging firebreaks, where it looks like they're needed. Because he's still an Autobot.

Groove shakes his head "you know I don't have the spark for that nightbeat...it was a completely innocent question..." he sighs revenge never did look good on him. He turns and tries to help put out the burning brush along the line near the building. He kneels down and picks up what looks like a charred rat. "poor organic life lost...sad.." he reaches down and puts sand over it in a sort of burrial.

Eight Tiny Reindeer and a Gold Sleigh CF-130 Super Hercules rumbles right overhead, banking slowly. He almost looked like on the verge of falling out of the sky as he slowed down, the pitch of his engines dropping to the point where stones rattle on the ground as he banks slowly, over the largest of the fires. Small spurts of foam start to drop from his underbelly, before the hastily-patched in foam tanks start to release their cargo, falling to the hot fires below.

Foxfire finds some trapped humans, and makes himself busy by leading them to safety, taking a path he's spotted through the fires. "Follow me, and keep your heads down," he tells them, showing off his knowledge of how organic bodies work.

F-15 Eagle <Air Raid> says, "WELP, looks like Santa's got it under control! Clean-up is a Protecto-job, and lookie here, Groover's already started! Can I split, Nightbeat, I've got a guild raid to catch!"

Nightbeat stares up at Air Raid and shouts, "I understood everything up to 'guild raid'. You dumped your load, already? Then get down here and dig ditches! You're a soldier, so don't tell me you can't!"