Mapquest

Wing n Thruster 

Fashioned from a large cargo bay is the newest incarnation of the Wing and Thruster. This spacious lounge area is open and welcome to all makes and models of Decepticons. The far wall has been replaced by an enormous glassteel window which looks down from the Spire in which the Aerospace wing is located and you have a nearly unobstructed view of the spaceport below. Just to the right of the door and running around that corner of the room to about half the length of the side wall is an enormous bar in which Oilcan - the proprieter, and head barkeep works alongside Sinestra and Pandora, his two head waitresses. Other serving mechs take orders out to the various tables and booths that are scattered around the bay and which provide ample seating opportunities for all but the largest of Transformers. A large trophy case has been erected along the wall behind the bar and is filled with momentos of past battles. Type +case to have a closer look. A large dancefloor occupies the left side of the bay, while an archway past the bar on the right side leads to a semi-private room set with a large conference table and comfortable recliners. One or more Sweeps can usually be found here, planning a Hunt or reviewing footage from past missions. Entering +hboard will show you what the Sweeps are currently up to, if you so desire. And +commands will display available commands for the meeting table. At the top of the board glows their current primary objective:

PRIORITY OBJECTIVE: To make pay those who refuse to bow before Galvatron's Might

Contents:

Scourge Redshift Fleet

Blast Off Doubledealer The Wall

Catechism has half a map. She's been ordered to try to get it deciphered. Right now, she has nailed a copy of the map to the wall and is throwing darts at it. This is probably not the right way to do it.

Gleaming red eyes leer evilly in the darkness! From pretty much everyone, because really, we're all a bunch of bastards here. But one pair in particular are significant- they belong to Doubledealer, the sinister stormcrow of the Decepticons, who has inexplicably returned after being equally inexplicably missing for over two million years. "Does that usually work for you?" he asks Catechism, perching on a pallid bust of Straxus above the chamber door.

Aaah, the Wing'n'Thruster. This place was so much more his style than those filtyh oil-greased bars his less, ah, cultured teammates prefer to hang out in. Well, Swindle was cultured, he just preferred hanging out in the dives because he got better business there. But that's besides the point, as Blast Off wasn't here entirely for relaxing. A quick look over the establishment picks out Catechism with the map everyone was in such a hubbub about lately, and the space warrior makes his way in that direction.

"That's an.... unorthadox method to take towards astrocartiography," he remarks in a dry tone when she throws another dart, raising an optic ridge unseen behind the optical visor.

Scourge has not heard anything at all from Catechism regarding the star chart/map they had acquired. It was a matter of importance to the Empire that the Decepicons found the information before the Autobots. So he had tracked down the Seeker, to ascertain why a report had not yet been made. Plenty of time has already been alotted to the research, in the Sweep Leader's mind. Stalking into the room, his perpetual scowl deeper than usual, if such a thing is /really/ possible, he takes a moment to look around and then moved towards Catechism where her rather unorthodox method was in full swing. "Catechism, have you discovered anything useful yet?"

Redshift struts into the Wing', oestensibly to check on the latest gossip and to catch up on his inebriating sunstances... however, he is also sporting some new paint apps and some funny little helmet- and ankle-wings. White stripes now breakup the fields of red, and more gold adorns his wings, as well as the stylized wings appended to him. He walks in, chin high, and struts to the bar to get a drink, trying to watch the crowd without looking like he is watching the crowd.

Fleet is here already, and has been here for awhile. He's not tucked away in a corner, because that would be too obvious. Instead, he's sitting perched on a seat along the bar, cube of standard energon cradled in one hand. The Seeker is watching the room quietly, nursing his drink. There's no telling why he's in here.

Catechism looks up at the space tengu, and she pauses in throwing her darts. The bust of Straxus... she snaps the fingers of her free hand, and she exclaims, "Oh, I remember you! I... I'm Evangel. Well. Catechism. I was lying about the name." She doesn't bother explaining why she was lying; she is a Decepticon. That is reason enough. "Where have you been? I haven't heard from you in... over eleven million years." And then Scourge shows up, and Catechism uuuuhs, "Weeeeelll, sir, I consulted all the normal maps. I keep those, you know. Useful when travelling in space. It doesn't match any of them. Hence my... unorthodox tactics." That also serves to explain to Blast Off. Her head turns - "Redshift! New look?"

"Yesss, I know," croaks Doubledealer, narrowing his eyes shrewdly. "I was indisposed." His talons click on the bust of Straxus, drumming like fingers on a desk. "I recognized you, I looked you up in the public access personnel files. That was... wise of you to stay incognito, if it was your intention not to disrupt the timestream. Astrotrain put paid to that, I'm afraid."

.... Right, when in doubt, shoot it. Well, shoot darts at it, but still. Somehow Blast Off is unsurprised it has to such a method, it seems to be more common than one would be comfortable around here, even from smarter Decepticons. He just shakes his head a bit, and while the Catechism is busy talking to the others walks over to the mysterious map to take a closer look for himself.

Crimson optics narrow slightly at Catechism's explanation of her strange method, but Scourge nods after a moment. Somehow, it doesn't surprise him that this map they swiped from the Autobots matched none of the standard charts they had. "Have you thought to try other sources?" Turning to glance at Redshift's entrance, he wonders at the new color scheme, but says nothing. It's nothing that currently concerns him, as his primary focus is on obtaining whatever the Autobots were searching for /before/ they did.

Redshift inclines his head politely to Catechism, "Why, yes!" He replies and straightens up, tossing his shoulders back. "How does it... Make me look?" He asks with a sly wink. He nudges Fleet as well. "Fleet? Any.. Specific comments you might be inclined to make?" Redshift then looks at the chart, which everyone else is looking at instead of HIM. "Say, is that the chart from the library planet? Where's the rest of it? And who's the fowl?"

Catechism shrugs. "Astrotrain's a Triple-Changer. They do that kinda stuff. Glad to see you're operational again!" More allies to soak fire in a battle. To Scourge, she replies cheerily, "All the charts I have access to in the Empire, sir! We could go back to Babel, I guess, to look for more information..." She doesn't really look forward to that, however. To Redshift, she says, "You look very... heroic. The Autobots have the other half."

Blast Off flicks through several of his own maps stored in his navigational hardware, if anyone bothered to look closely they'd notice the rapid flash of several starcharts and diagrams on the 'back' of his visor as they scroll through his HUD in rapid succession. Then shakes his head with a snort as he looks back to the others. "I wouldn't blame you for having trouble, Catechism, this matchs none of my own expansive array of astronomical recordings either." The shuttle sniper takes a few steps back, lifting one hand to rub the chin of his mouthguard thoughtfully. "I believe its safe to presume this is an area of space none of our own have traveled to before. Which is only reassuring in the notion that likely the Autobots are having just as much difficulty."

Fleet slips off his stool, frowning and focusing on the map. He steps towards the group with a quiet tip-tip-tap, peering at the map, then his optics flicker a blink as Redshift nudges him and asks Fleet's opinion on his paint job. "I... what is the hat for? Is it a weapon?"

"I'm another source," offers Doubledealer. "I can lead you there. It might be difficult, and expensive, but I'm sure I can do it. I know the place." He hops down from the bust over the door and stalks up to Catechism, wings folded behind him, rocking with each of his slow steps like an old man. "I've been there myself. It's not on your map. It's not even reachable normally- gravitational flux makes the nebula impassable most of the time. Once every thousand years it can be done."

Redshift peers closely at the map, noting the rather dangerous-looking cosmology. not that Redshift knows the word 'cosmology', but he knows a bad neighborhood when he sees one. "Looks like it'd be rough to fly in, even for /my/ space flight capabilities. See the way this nebulae bends towards these stars? That gravity would suck you in if you weren't careful. /I/ could probably out-pace the distortions, but not one of those clunky shuttles, too risky." He says, tsktsking appropriatly. "They're not... FAST enough."

Redshift can't fly faster than gravity, but he doesn't know that.

Catechism sees that Fleet is frowning over the map. It could mean something. It could mean nothing. Fleet frowns a lot. She tries to nudge him and offers, "Shot for your thoughts?" Then, she whirls around as Doubledealer leaps down and makes the offer. He's been there? Would explain where he's been all this time! "You've been there? What is there, anyway? Is it worth our time?"

"Power beyond your wildest imaginings," crows Doubledealer, with an avaricious gleam in his eye and a razor glint on his beak. "But it's dangerous. Too rich for my blood. Weird forces beyond understanding. I hear a few of you got a taste of that recently. Invisible payloaders and such."

"HeyheyHEY there, birdbrain." Redshift interjects. "Whta kind of power we talking here? Money? Resources... Or more of THESE?" He asks, pointing to the inoccuous-looking -but powerful- lens appended to his chest.

Fleet gives a faint nod in agreement with Redshift. "Yes, dangerous region. That would take tricky piloting in a shuttle, and even then, you'd have to be sure to pick your time carefully." His optics flicker again as he turns to look back at Doubledealer, then looks back at the map. "Hmmm. I have pretty wild imaginings, myself, but even with them, I don't think it sounds worth the trouble."

If he was anyone else, Blast Off would laugh a loud mocking laugh at Redshift's boast, and flaunt his Space Race gold medal at the questions of speed and maneuverability.

But he's not, and as he is, the cold arrogance just glares at Redshift for a moment, and shrugs it off as unimportant in the light of the matter. Instead he walks over to the other side of the map to continue his investigation, knowing better than to take a mercenary's word at face value. From personal experience in the business, but that's long forgotten history that even they don't remember clearly due to the long time spent in cold stasis. He pokes at the map a few times with a finger, tracing some of the paths between various marked bodies.

And then finally stands upright again, folding his hands behind his back. "What he says is true. The way these stars move through the nebula's cosmic rotation, their gravitation fields would intersect in ways that could pull a full sized invasion fleet in ribbons if attempted to bypass at the wrong time...." A pause. "... At the center of all that would be the -perfect- place to hide extremely valuable and powerful items." Blast Off seems satisified in just having verified how potentially dangerous the region of space would be, so they know Doubledealer isn't blowing it out of his exhaust.

Catechism looks over at Scourge and then over at Fleet and then finally at Redshift. Scourge: Built by a dark god. Fleet: Made a deal with the robot devil. Redshift: known to act as the herald of godlike mad Quintessons. Hmm. Doubledealer's comments have a good audience, here. She looks to Scourge and asks, "You willing to foot the bill?" He's the guy with the faction credit card!

"More of those," Doubledealer says, pointing at Redshift's chest with one of the primary feathers at the end of his wing. "Think of those things as radios. They're simple in themselves. Hardly anything to them. Where you're bewildered is in trying to understand how they create the effects they do." He hops closer to Redshift and cocks his head to look him in the eye- Doubledealer's almost the same height. "Understand me: they DON'T. They just receive and store that power. Off that map there's a planet, and on that planet, to use the radio analogy, is the single station in the universe broadcasting on that frequency. You're just tuning in. What if you could choose the playlist?"

Redshift is a little unnerved by this big buzzard getting up in his grill, and he glares right back into Doubledealer's beady red eye. He stares back, holding his ground. "More lenses?" He repeats carefully. "and the ability to CONTROL what they can do? And you're /sure/ about this?"

"And cutting off the Autobots' access to them?" Blast Off asks as he brings his attention back to the avian-form mech. "Aquiring more for ourselves is one thing, but we need to prevent the Autobots who already posess some from being able to 'stay tuned' as it were, to use your own anology."

"I'm almost positive," replies Doubledealer, shrugging his wings and smoothing them down. "How you could control it, I don't know. I just know that that's where it comes from. Those things were made there and that's where the master battery is that charges them. I didn't stay long, for reasons you can probably imagine, as a Lensman yourself in a minor way. But SOMEone controls them. Why couldn't it be you?"

Catechism has seen Air Raid's lense and also Redshift's lense in action. They're interesting toys. She doesn't mind the threat of danger in acquisition. Catechism listens to Doubledealer try to sell it Redshift, and she finally asks bluntly, "What's the price, Doubledealer?"

"You do something for me when you take over the place, strip 'em of their secrets and master the lenses," Doubledealer says in a low, harsh voice, looking around at Catechism. "You lay 'em low. Wreck the place. Smash their power and take it for yourselves. Those aliens killed my partner and wrecked my ship, left me drifting in the Black for ten million years. All I wanted to do was buy some lenses from them, make a little profit, spread the wealth around. They're jealous of that power. Don't want anybody else having it. You gotta take it by force, and leave nothing standing."

Doubledealer wobbles his head thoughtfully. "And, well, one more little thing. Minor salvage job, right on Cybertron. Barely even worth mention. We can talk about that later."

Catechism narrows her optics to slits thoughtfully. That is not the cost she was excepting. It sounds too easy. Destruction is fun, not a chore! And who really cares about a dead partner, anyway? There must be a catch - ah. There it is. She snaps her fingers and smirks. "Minor, huh?"

"Minor rarely is," Blast Off mutters under his breath.

"Power enough to finally kick the 'bots off of Cybertron, run them to the edge of the galaxy..." Redshift muses, stroking his chin, gazing into the map of dangerous space. "Power enough to do whatever we want, screw the consequences. That's what being a Decepticon is all about." "When do we leave?"

Scourge looks at Redshift and nods, with a truly evil smile. "The power to utterly /destroy/ the Autobots. Why merely push them to the edge of the galaxy, where they might eventually find a way to overcome our power, and come back later to once again challenge us?"

"According to that chronograph," Doubledealer replies, glancing up at the device behind the bar, "as soon as possible. We'll need to burn a lot of fuel in the next few days to get there AND back before the gravitational channel closes for another thousand years."

Catechism sees that Redshift is caught up by the idea of more lenses. Entranced, she might say, but he really does have a point. Blow slag up. Take over the universe. It's them. But her logistics training tells her that there's a bill to foot, somewhere. Probably in that minor salvage operation. However, Scourge seems willing enough to foot the bill, so she is satisfied, for now.

"Then it would be best to make post haste on the matter. Especially if you want a jump up on the Autobots who will likely take the wimp morality of wanting to lock it all away from everyone else in the universe just for being too dangerous," Blast Off adds with a vocal sneer to express the one his facial features cannot.

Scourge turns his crimson optics to Blast Off and chuckles. "They would try to destroy it, before they attempted to merely 'lock it away'. They wouldn't risk that power being acquired by /us/." Turning to Doubledealer, he smirks. "This 'salvage' you want. What is it?"

"Something of personal... sentimental value to me. It's difficult for me to get to on my own," Doubledealer replies over his shoulder as he goes out to get the fuel mixed for the voyage. "Don't worry, I'm sure it won't pose any danger to the likes of you. Certainly not if you're Lensmen by then."

Avoiding answering with something vague like that typically meant something that could be of use, or detrimental, to the Empire. Scourge would think about that, while he was preparing for the journey. Turning to the others present, he nods. "A risk worth taking, for a power such as these lenses would give us."

"Agreed." The decisions have been made, so not really much else for Blast Off to say on the matter.

Now that the dilemma of finding Foundry World has been solved, Catechism picks up a dart and throws it at the map, returning to her game. She exclaims gleefully, "Oooh, I hit a white dwarf!"

Scourge turns to Catechism after she hits the white dwarf, he replies to her exclamation rather dryly. "Congratulations." With another glance at the map, he turns and moves off into the next room to sit at the large conference table and use the computer there.

Blast Off says, "Aim for the neutron stars, they're worth double."

Scourge looks at the hunt board.

Catechism notes, rather proudly, "See? Playing darts with the map in the bar worked out way better than comparing it to maps." Only because Doubledealer just happened to be perching on the bust of Straxus in the bar, but... "...Bars are good places to meet shady people with weird trivia knowledge." At Blast Off's comment, she does just that and asks, "You want to play?" She holds out a dart to him.

Combat: Catechism compares her Accuracy to 75: Failure :(

Catechism misses the neutron star. Phooey!

Blast Off tsks slightly as he takes the offered dart. "It's not a laser, you can't just point and shoot. You need to consider trajectory and resistance with an non self propelled projectile." And throws.

Combat: Blast Off compares his Accuracy to 75: Failure :(

Blast Off misses too. But that just proves how DIFFICULT it is, see.

Combat: Scourge compares his Accuracy to 75: Success!

Catechism grabs another dart out of the box of darts and looks it over closely, checking the fins. She notes, "You can get these things scaled up, put screamer tubes on them, and drop them from orbit. Hell of a psychological weapon. Also if they hit anyone. That's good, too." She's suggesting something crossed between a V2 rocket and a lawn dart. She throws the dart, tryin again.

Combat: Catechism compares her Accuracy to 75: Failure :(

After a short while, Scourge stalks back out into the main room and, with typical Sweep silence, picks up a dart and tosses it idly at the map, then turns and moves to the bar.

Combat: Scourge compares his Accuracy to 75: Success!

Blast Off just .... boggles for a moment at the suggestion. "The sheer lunacy of that idea almost makes it worth an effort just to see the looks of confusion it would create.... Bet Swindle has some old tubes lying around." He had everything else after all. Taking another dart Blast Off tries again. At least this was an interesting challenge.

Combat: Blast Off compares his Accuracy to 75: Success!

Catechism watches Scourge come in, just to smoke the both of them. Then, Blast Off lands a dart, as well. Frustrated, she snatches up a dart and just hurls it with all her might. She grits out, "Yeah? Bet Swindle could make it work. The guy's pretty clever about weapons. His bombs are pieces of art."

Combat: Catechism compares her Accuracy to 75: Success!

Redshift snickers a bit as everyone fails miserably to stike a simple target. "Yes, dropping from orbit and impacting your target can be quite satisfying!" Although now they all suceed, so showing off /now/ would be a little blase. "I shall take my leave, as I need to perfect my /speed costume/. Perhaps some lightning bolts!"

Scourge turns to watch the competition between the two, and smirks at the idea of turning darts into some form of weapon for Blast Off. "Add an explosive tip, and guarantee death to your targets on impact."

Blast Off turns partway to comment over his shoulder, "Don't use lightning bolts, that's a dead giveaway you're trying for speed. You should pick something that would blantantly telegraph your intention and catch your opposition off-guard." The goes back to throwing darts. "... Explosive tips, hmmm..."

Combat: Blast Off compares his Accuracy to 75: Success!

Redshift doesn't want an explosive tip.

Catechism suggests to Redshift, "Add an Army hat." Then Scourge gets behind the idea of lawndarts from SPACE, and she fairly beams. Since throwing darts angrily seems to work, she growls lowly and tosses another.

Combat: Catechism compares her Accuracy to 75: Success!

Of course anger works. How do you think Brawl survives through PUNCHING IT?

Scourge watches the competition as he gets himself a drink and glances at Redshift. "If you are going for some visual representation of speed, use wind."

"How am I supposed to do that? Add a picture of a FAN?" Redshift scoffs.

Scourge turns his optics towards Redshift and smirks. "Perhaps through the use of a cloud or something with a blur effect across it. Or, yourself smashing through an Autobot, perhaps."

Catechism waves her hands about vaguely, and she opines, "You could add motion lines, painted on, so you'd look like you are moving when you are standing still."

Blast Off hffs. "Personally I don't see why you're so worried about visual cues, I thought the whole point of being so fast was to -not- be seen before you blow the slag out of someone?"

"Nononono," Redshift replies, waving his hand dismissingly. "They have to see me. and they have to try and shoot me. Then they MISS and I laugh at them and ser them on fire. Repeat! I just need to get an EDGE over that mentally-deficient BLEUSHIFT."

Catechism inquires thoughtfully, "Bleushift? You have a French brother, as well? Is he like Vendetta?"

Blast Off rolls his optics behind his visor. Wonderful, sibling rivaltries now? "I'd suggest just shooting him in the back of the head and leaving him to rust, but that's much too cliche. Not to mention he's not of a high enough position to be worth the effort of doing so."

Redshift sneaks a glare at his fellow spacer. "Blue's higher than /you/, and he doesn't fall apart as easily. Except for his head, he has a bad habit of losing that..."

Blast Off says, "That's the other reason shooting him in the back of it wouldn't be very effective. I'm sure the medics have just made it detatchable by this point to save themselves the excess work."

Catechism finds it interesting that Redshift is willing to beat Blueshift, but as soon as Blast Off makes the comment that Blueshift isn't worth killing, Redshift defends his brother's rank. It is as if Redshift is the only one allowed to make fun of Blueshift. She reaches into the dart bucket, pulls one out, and looks it over.

Scourge is sitting, quietly observing the conversation now, and sipping at the drink in his clawed hand.

"I just need one more /edge/ over blue, and then I will step up and replace him." Redshift replies with vindication. "I have my lens, but it's nearly depleted... If I can recharge it, then I can finally put him back in his /place/" Redshift says, as his Lens of Malice flashes briefly. A trick of the light? With that said, he stomps out of the bar. He has preparations to make.

... That the lense flashes in sync with Redshift's words doesn't get past the sniper-con's notice, but it's little more than a curiousity. Not really anything to concern himself with. Blast Off turns his attention back to the darts. "If he feels it necessary to defend his brother's importance in order to make his efforts in disposing of him feel worthwhile, that's his inclination." A shrug, and Blast Off goes back to not caring, and chucks another dart at the map.

Catechism quirks an optical ridge as Redshift's lense seems to flash. She doesn't dismiss it as just a trick of the light - there could be something to it. Catechism's certainly seen some strange things in her time.

Combat: Blast Off compares his Accuracy to 75: Failure :(

Redshift has disconnected.

Blast Off -just- misses a neutron star, hitting a lowly asteroid cluster instead. "This is certainly more difficult to -throw- your attack at a target instead of shooting it than it first would appear to be."

Catechism throws the dart that she has been considering, after Blast Off misses, and she agrees, "This is probably why we have guns. And missiles. And lasers... still a fun exercise."

Combat: Catechism compares her Accuracy to 75: Failure :(

Catechism stomps her foot on the floor when she misses.

Scourge finishes his drink and again makes his way to the dart bucket, picking up another dart. With a smirk at Catechism, he again rather idly tosses the dart at the map. "Learn to throw weapons. It makes a very effective distraction, when your opponent doesn't expect it."

Combat: Scourge compares his Accuracy to 75: Failure :(

Blast Off rolls a dart between two fingers. "Though I wonder, why do they not make missiles with sharpened heads like this? You would think sticking into a target before exploding would be effective." Then flings the dart again. It doesn't help that for all his accurate skill, Blast Off isn't all that strong.

Catechism snorts as Scourge misses, and she points out, "You can't just throw any old weapon. Not even knives. It has to be properly balanced and weighted to throw it, and most knives aren't. That, and if you're throwing something, it becomes dispoable. You might as well just get thin shanks of metal, balance them, and throw those. Cheaper than knives." She lets another dart fly, glaring at it.

Combat: Catechism compares her Accuracy to 75: Success!

Combat: Blast Off compares his Accuracy to 75: Success!

Windshear has arrived.

Scourge shrugs, and isn't exactly concerned with whether or not he hits. Picking up another dart, he again idly tosses it. "I was speaking of weapons such as large rocks. Items that are /meant/ to be disposable, Catechism. If your opponent does not expect it, it will make it more difficult for him to evade it, even if it doesn't incur much damage."

Combat: Scourge compares his Accuracy to 75: Failure :(

Windshear walks in looking damaged and unrepaired. What else is new? He strolls in and looks around for a moment. He had heard of this place but has never been to it before so he thought he'd check it out. He notices Scourge and recognizes the rest in there and with a nod he walks over to the bar, eases into a seat and orders something to drink. Then looks back at Scourge listening to what he was saying.

Catechism guess the map was expecting that dart, then. She hmms, "They do make multi-stage missiles. Like, there's a shaped charge in the first stage to blow a hole in armour, then the second stage can detonate inside. But there's something else, let me think..." She rubs her chin.

Blast Off comments offhandedly between throws, "Brawl is obsessed with punching. Prehaps I can convince him that throwing a rock would be like punching someone at a distance.... Ah. Making a hole for a charge to get inside the armor? Sounds effective." He just happens to glance towards the bar and noticing the Seeker there, just gives a brief nod in his direction. He's at least got the decency to go with the GIANT EGO to still give fellow Decepticons some notice. "You look like one the Terrorcons used you for a chew toy, Windshear."

Catechism ahs, "Attacks of opportunity. Improvised weapons. Now, what I was trying to remember... anti-tank rounds! They often have hardened front sections for improved piercing." She is throwing darts at a ragged half a map that is stuck to the wall. However, a little alarm goes off in her head, and Catechism exclaims, "Oh. I need to stand guard duty!" She salutes Scourge and heads for the exit.

Scourge hears Windshear coming in, and glances in the Seeker's direction with a slight nod, then turns back to pick up another dart and throw it before turning and stepping away from the other two a few feet, to once again just watch. "There are so many different types of explosive devices, why bother trying to remember them all? Learn the ones you use, or intend to use, and leave the rest for others to learn." Looking over at Windshear, he smirks. "Someone get the better of you, Windshear?"

Combat: Scourge compares his Accuracy to 75: Failure :(

Windshear snorts as he sips his drink. "Done want to talk about it..." he rasps with his perminantly damaged voice synth.

"Diversity is one thing. But stray too far trying to learn too many, and you will be the master of none," Blast Off agrees with Scourge, and indulges himself in another dart throw. The effort and skill needed has gotten his interest to a point. "Best to not be late, Catechism." That's about as close to a 'take care' goodbye you'll get from him.

Combat: Blast Off compares his Accuracy to 75: Failure :(

Scourge nods to Catechism and watches her leave, then turns to look at Windshear closely for a long moment, letting his enhanced vision pick out the bullet holes and laser blasts. With a smirk, he chuckles. "From the size of those projectile wounds, I would say you tangled with one of the humans in their weak mechanical suits." Glancing at Blast Off, he nods and chuckles. "Master a few, and use them to great advantage over those who have mastered none. I believe you have been on the recieving end of one of my own explosive creations, a moment before I was laid low by Shockwave."

[log cuts off here, due to me needing sleep]