Trypticon Moves to Antarctica



Antarctica Ice Shelf

This expansive glacial plain runs off as far as the eye can see, only broken occasionally by canyons thousands of feet deep where the top layers have collapsed under ancient stresses. Subzero temperatures have kept this ice mass, thousands of feet thick and as wide as some small countries, frozen for millennia. It would be disturbingly easy to become lost out here and never found again, humans frozen where they fell from the unrelenting cold or, as a powerless Cybertronian might find himself, battered and broken at the bottom of some caved-in canyon of blue-white and various shades of grey ice.

Contents:

JU-87 

Contrail

Americon

Obvious exits:

Out  leads to Southern Ocean.

South  leads to East Antarctica.

South  leads to West Antarctica.

Fly 

The location for Trypticon's new home has been perfect chosen. A long, windy chasm runs through the Ice Shelf. Its top layer collapsed decades ago, and it is in a particularly wide spot that the Decepticons have decided to place their disgruntled headquarters. The only avenues of approach are either straight down canyon, hugging the vertical walls, or by maneuvering straight through the trench, skimming the surface to the point where one could set up an attack run. Both would result in a shooting gallery for the defending forces.

But until Trypticon makes his arrival, there's plenty of work to do. Decepticons cover the walls and the area around it. Numerous workers are working to put the finishing touches on the power-base where Trypticon will plug in. Others are busy installing pop-out guns into the ice walls and ground. Others are setting up a satellite relay system to warn of any impending attack.

Shockwave hovers above it all. "Ensure the energon ratio is precisely 1:.78," he orders. "With the lower temperatures Trypticon's fuel consumption will differ from Decepticon Island." He hovers over to the wall. "I can see thirty-eight blind spots that approaching Autobots could use coming through the trench. Double the number of gun turrets in sector 5. Banshee:" he opens a radio transmission if needed for this. "I need a status update on Trypticon's approach."

Combat: Shockwave expertly repairs JU-87 's injuries.

Combat: Shockwave is able to repair some of JU-87 's internal systems damage.

Combat: Shockwave expertly repairs Americon's injuries.

Combat: Shockwave is able to repair some of Americon's internal systems damage.

JU-87  is flying top-cover for Trypticon, circling around the giant cityformer. Her pilot hologram scowls, fastening her breath-mask in place to talk. <> She replies. <>

She dives down to try and distract the cityformer, hoping the yellow flashes on her wingtips will have a similar effect to a bug-light on a moth.

<>

Americon had been wandering about, looking for Santa Claus. What is he doing in Antarctica, then? Well, suffice it to say that he got lost. Really, really, really lost. And so it is that an ice covered robot shambles into the site, largely ignored by the bigger Decepticons with more important things to do. Icicles formed under his chin, even, giving the odd impression of a beard. The cassetticon stops in the middle of the site, looking about slowly like he's not entirely sure what's going on. "Guys?..." he croaks. "The hell is... going on..."

Contrail swoops over Americon like a vast predatory bird. Whoooosh. Then she breaks off and banks, moving to inspect one of Trypticon's thirty-eight new blind spots. Then Contrail doubles back to buzz Trypticon's tower. Whoooooosh!

Flipping into a modified F-35B Lightning II, the sky is not the limit.

Trypticon stares at the Orcas. He is considering what to do with them. Letting his rocket backpack go off for a moment, he smashes into the ice, which cracks but manages not to collapse. The Orcs are sent several metres into the air from the impact. "NO METROPLEX! NO /WARMTH/. TRYPTICON HATE COLD! TRYPTICON HATE NEWFOUNDLAND!" He growls, thinking back to the good old days when he was at New Crystal City. There he had a volcano to suck energy from, and Metroplex would stop by every so often to keep things interesting. Trypticon looks left and right, tail swooshing in wide arcs as he turns. There's no volcano here! "THIS IS EVEN /COLDER/!" he bellows.

Trypticon glances up as Banshee flies around, flashing her lights at him. "RRRRRRR." he says, watching her the way a cat watches a laser pointer. That is, in the precious few moments before pouncing. <> Shockwave transmits, <> Shockwave has absolutely no faith in Trypticon doing anything right... but he does have some faith in Banshee.

Back at the destination site, Shockwave lands near Americon, towering over the smaller mech. "Americon, your assessment of the anti-ground defence grid," he demands, not actually answering the cassetticon's question. Is that what he thought Americon was supposed to be doing right now?

Spinister has arrived.

Americon looks up at Shockwave for a while. His brain, addled by the cold, struggles to comprehend the question, and he runs it through several times in his mind. "I..." He coughs. "It didn't accidentally mistake me for Ultra Magnus and blow me up. That's happened before, sir. I think..." He looks around, the icicles on his chin wobbling. "...pretty decent start. Sir." His optics blink slowly. "Can I make a suggestion, sir?"

Spinister unfolds into his (terribly) mysterious robot mode! Also: Singe! Hairsplitter!

Combat: Suddenly, Spinister appears out of the blue!

"Make it," Shockwave drones. Were it possible for Shockwave to have facial expressions, he'd be narrowing his optic(s) at the Cassetticon with obvious suspicion.

Americon simply states, as he envisions Autobots exploding above in a great fireworks show, "Needs more rockets."

Triggerhappy has arrived.

Trypticon  has arrived.

Decepticon Shuttle  descends from the Skies above Antarctica above.

Decepticon Shuttle <Despoiler> has arrived.

"This is garbage!" Cloudburn, a green tetra Seeker, and current member of the 'guys that have been put in charge of supporting ordinance before it's loaded into Tryps because Hairsplitter would lose his mind if anything went in undocumented' team, throws an armful of missiles down in disgust. This is his big moment. "I'm a war machine, damn it! A machine made for war! And the Empire has me wasting my time sorting stuff like an IDIOT! Look at you! You all look like dopes! I'm a Seeker of the Empire, not some random flying mech like that Raptor guy! You know?"

An Insecticon leans over to a guy that turns into a tank with wings. "Raptor?"

"Like Viator, but dumber."

The Insecticon makes a face.

"Well I'm done with it, you guys!" Cloudburn shakes a dramatic fist at the dramatic sky. "I made some friends in Crystal City and they think I have a higher purpose! And I think all of you do, too! Who's coming with me?" And then he tries to start a chant. "Crys-tal ci-ty!" Clapclap clapclapcalp. "Crys-tal ci-ty!" Clapclap clapclapclap. "Cryst-ERK!" Spinister, who wasn't there a moment ago, is there now.

He james a fist into the mech's back. And he pulls out Cloudburn's spine. He stares at the rest of the group for a long moment, before glancing down at Singe. "Burn him."

""Burn him?" Why, it just so happens I was hoping to make a pyre of worthless robot today!"

"Rockets are an expensive luxury we do not have many of here," Shockwave replies. To his surprise, the suggestion was not a bad one. "However one out of every six ice-bound turret will fire at least a level three warhead with each barrage." He points out the location of several of the turrets. "Americon, your expertise-" Shockwave says this with complete sci

The Despoiler zooms by Trypticon, having arrived from the opposite direction from which the main force of Decepticons had chosen. Traveling rather low it seems as if the pilot was taking percautions to avoid any snooping covert radar systems that may have been set up in the area that managed to evade Decepticon inspection. As if it was just here to dump off some garbage the boarding hatch opens up within the belly of the beast, and ejected from it is none other than Triggerhappy... Something seems a little odd though, as the Seeker doesn't seem to be moving, transforming, or trying to do anything at all other than fall lifelessly toward the ground.

"You may want to go and catch him..." Outbound offers nonchalantly to his co-pilot as he maneuvers Despoiler into alignment with the mechasaurus rex.

Triggerhappy is unceremoniously dumped out of the ship, along with his Targetmaster partner, Blowpipe. Someone should probably catch him before he hits the ground and takes even more damage, because at this point, he probably can't take much more.

F-35B Lightning II <Contrail> has just been zooming around, checking out blindspots, and possibly knocking over people's energon mugs with sonic booms. So she happens to be zooming along when Triggerhappy starts to fall lifelessly through the air. Contrail transforms and attempts to catch Triggerhappy like the prettiest of princessess.

In a transformation that is harder than it looks, Contrail rises up into robot mode.

Combat: Contrail sets her defense level to Fearless.

For those just joining us: A long, windy chasm runs through the Ice Shelf. Its top layer collapsed decades ago, and it is in a particularly wide spot that the Decepticons have decided to place their disgruntled headquarters. The only avenues of approach are either straight down canyon, hugging the vertical walls, or by maneuvering straight through the trench, skimming the surface to the point where one could set up an attack run. Both would result in a shooting gallery for the defending forces.

"Rockets are an expensive luxury we do not have many of here," Shockwave replies. To his surprise, the suggestion was not a bad one. "However one out of every six ice-bound turret will fire at least a level three warhead with each barrage." He points out the location of several of the turrets. "Americon, your expertise-" Shockwave says this with complete sincerity, "-could be useful. I want you to organize rocket coverage so that no matter what direction the Autobots approach from, they will always be covered by at least two emplacements."

Shockwave then raises his hand to his 'ear'. <<Banshee, status.>> Silence. Oh oh, maybe Banshee got munched? The Military Commander is unsurprised by this development. Getting Trypticon here was always going to be the hard part. <<Trypticon, repo->>

**RARRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!! TRYPTICON WILL GO BACK TO DECEPTICON ISLAND!!**

This is what gets sent out to every Decepticon here. Shockwave cuts the connection and turns towards the latest example of Decepticon loyalty. "Spinister, your talents with discipline are required. Take several soldiers and ensure Trypticon makes his way here."

About forty miles out, Trypticon is currently stomping across the ice, spitting plasma bombs from his mouth towards the orcas he was playing with earlier. The ice cracks each time his foot slams against it.

Windshear has somehow been regulated to 'co-pilot' and was basicaly not doing a hting but letting the short con fly the shuttle. He watches as Outbound dumps Triggerhappy out of the ship and says what he says. He looks at Outbound, "Me? Why?"

Combat: Contrail compares her Accuracy to Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter <Triggerhappy>'s Agility: Success!

<Decepticon> Contrail says, "Okay, so... I think I have a passed out Triggerhappy? Banshee, what kind of noseart should be give him?"

Spinister just stares at Shockwave for a few moments. So do Singe and Hairsplitter. Singe is really the only one who's face betrays what they're all thinking: are you cog damn kidding? Spinister finally turns to face the group of Decepticons counting bullets.

"Decepticons, your loyalty has been rewarded. It is high time your talents as warriors were put to real use. Your target..." He turns, and points at Trypticon. "You are all to shoot Trypticon in the face, and then blitz for his final destination. If he does not follow, you are to shoot him harder. Your questions."

The Insecticon from earlier raises his hand. "Yeah, are you cog damn crazy?"

He hits the ground before anyone notices Spinister pull the trigger on Hairsplitter, a hole smoking through his forehead. "You have your orders."

The group transforms, and heads towards Trypticon. Spinister transforms after a moment to follow. At a distance.

Despoiler slows and suddenly banks to port, causing those within the shuttle a rather rude unseating if they weren't propertly strapped or maglocked down, as it passes by the enraged dinomech. "Somebody's testy today..." Outbound notes blandly, his indigo optics flashing with every syllable. Clearly a change of plans was in order! "I am going to hold back until he is settled. You are welcome to join the rabble down below..." notes the infantrymech as he sets Despoiler to hover, while remaining vigilant. Who knows what might happen if Despoiler is mistaken for an orca?

Buzzkill has arrived.

Windshear grabs the control panal edge he was in front of as the ship suddenly banks to port. No he wasnt strapped in or magnalocked of course. Once the ship settles level he adjusts his seat and looks outside, "Do I look that stupid?" he counters when Outbound makes his offer to go outside.

Laserbeak has arrived.

Americon thinks about the order he was given. He considers the vast wealth of knowledge he's learned about fireworks displays courtesy of Google. One time he even snuck inside a boat with a fireworks array installed into it, and watched the humans operate it in tape mode. "Right away, Shockwave, in m--'Merica..." he mumbles, then shuffles off, heedless of the fact that the Decepticons plan on pissing off their own city-former or that Spinister's technique for disciplining the troops is fairly lethal. He walks around the dead Insecticon, and spends several minutes seemingly wandering around at random. Every now and then he'll stop a gumby trying to set up a rocket launcher, poke him in the shin, shake his head, and point at some other place for the rockets to be placed.

By the time Spinister and his crew reach Trypticon, he's finished taking care of all the orcas. They did not put up nearly as good a fight as Trypticon would have hoped. Slowly, he turns round and round, tail threatening to skoosh anyone that's behind him. He needs to find where Decepticon Island is, but according to Apple Maps it doesn't exist at all. Trypticon's attempt to return to his old home is put on the back burner, however, when he spies Spinister and his team. There's even a shuttle far off in the distance. A tastey looking shuttle.

The Cityformer closes his mouth, optics narrowing. There's always a chance the other Decepticons are here to take him to Metroplex, but there's also a chance they're just here to get him to do stuff that he doesn't want to do. Like not killing Metroplex, or not bashing Metroplex, or not grappling with Metroplex, or not spewing plasma bombs at Metroplex, or not rolling around on the ground with Metroplex, or not kicking Metroplex, or... uh, Trypticon will add more examples as he thinks about it.

"WHAT YOU WANT?!" he bellows.

Contrail is supposed to shoot the heck out of Trypticon, which is difficult if she is carrying Triggerhappy like the prettiest of princess. So she very, very carefully pulls out some bungee cords and tries to bungee Triggerhappy to her back so that she can transform into something that only flies via Cartoon Logic. Then she tries to missile Trypticon and then flies away to the designated spot like a bat out of the Pit.

Flipping into a modified F-35B Lightning II, the sky is not the limit.

Buzzkill has actually been here the whole time, really, she's just been busy. Busy getting the final preperations for Trypticon's arrival done on time. There are massive generators she had airlifted in by some of the bigger, burlier Decepticons and there are miles and miles of hose set up to properly fuel the big dinosaur city once he's in position. Of course, getting him where he's supposed to is never easy. You'd think having a city with legs, it would be a piece of cake to move it around but no, Trypticon has to go and be dinosaur retarded and make life more difficult for everyone involved.

Currently, the honey bee stands out on the ice, barking out orders to her construction team (made up out of massive beetle Insecticons because lifting stuff around is the only thing they're good for really.) Occasionally she gives them a little motivation with a brutal lashing courtesy of the whip she borrowed from Contrail. "Hurry up, you slackers! Trypticon is on his way and everything needs to be perfect!"

Buzzkill transforms into her robot mode.

It seems everyone's either being busy little Cons helping out for this team effort, or they're slacking off. To be fair, Laserbeak has done a little of column A, and a little of column B, though there is something to be said for helping secure a new base. Laserbeak, being an extention of the Decepticon Secret Police, which is not to be confused with the Intelligence Agency, Galvatron's Honor, or the eight other intelligence agencies that constantly do little more than spy on each other, anyway the bird has spent his time installing deviously clever sensors and detectors in Canyon A. Canyons B through H are on the agenda. He even welded out some hidey holes, stealing/liberating some small energon caches from the workshop, to ensure he always has a bolt hole.

No Trypticon! Shuttles are NOT tasty! "...I don't like the way he looked at us," Outbound comments dully to Windshear. "You may have better luck out there with those morons than here inside of the shuttle," the infantrymech adds with a light shrug. Really, he just wants to continue to test and see if Windshear was worth the price he's promised to pay.

Laserbeak also tests out the first sensor, which would broadcast on the Decepticon frequencies. Random code may follow as he tinkers with it.

<Decepticon> Laserbeak says, "!"

It is a success.

<Decepticon> Buzzkill says, "Bring Triggerhappy to me for medical assistance if you are so inclined."

Windshear thinks about this for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip with a fanged upper dental plate. "Perhaps if you let me being the wheel I can keep the Despoiler from being flattened and us along with it. Your precious forarm buddy the Datacomputer can only teach you so much you know." he continues to stare out fo the viewscreen at the smegging crazy way everyones trying to get the Cityformer to where hes suppose to go. He wants no part of that ignorance and is really more intersted in keeping the shuttle from being destroyed. What good is it to move the Cityformer to a better spot if hes going to destroy more then its almost worth in the process?

<Decepticon> Laserbeak says, "?"

F-35B Lightning II <Contrail> comes in for a landing next to Buzzkill, who is somewhere on the ice, being awesome. She transforms and starts to de-bungee Triggerhappy, so that Buzzkill can repair him.

In a transformation that is harder than it looks, Contrail rises up into robot mode.

Triggerhappy is being carried by Contrail like the prettiest of princesses. Whatever that means. He drifts out of stasis lock temporarily, becoming vaguely aware of his surroundings, and that he is strapped to Contrail for some reason. He'd be upset if he knew he were missing out on shooting Trypticon.

Outbound glances over to Windshear, his indigo optics flashing hotly for a moment. "...Very well. I have better things to do beside keeping this shuttle in one piece." Yes, covert ultra secret occult things... "I will be in the back of the shuttle. Try not to get us scrapped, hm?" With that the infantrymech releases the maglock that held him in his seat and then retires to the back of the shuttle.


 * FWHOOSH!* *FWHOOSH!* Plasma bombs are unmistakable.

They can be heard allll the way to the build site. <<Spinister,>> Shockwave radios. Silence. The Military Commander considers for several moments. His gaze sweeps the assembled Decepticons. For those keeping track, this is both Banshee and Spinister who have failed in getting Trypticon there. Clearly it is not the Sweeps who should be afraid after all. <<Windshear,>> Shockwave radios the shuttle. <<Take the Despoiler and get Trypticon here. Do *not* let the Despoiler be shot down. Retreat if you need to.>> It pains Shockwave to think it, but having Galvatron here to shoot Trypticon in the brain until he does what's required of him. <<Laserbeak, go with the shuttle and assist with coordination.>>

Redshift emerges from the city that is Trypticon.

Redshift has arrived.

<Decepticon> Laserbeak says, "!"

<Decepticon> LOOK Outbound says, "You are capable of both piloting and firing the main guns simultaneously, Windshear..?"

By the time the shuttle (or anyone else travelling to Trypticon's location) gets there, they'll see Trypticon bounding across the ice, making huge cracks with each stomp as he chases after Contrail, but the Director of Intelligence is too fast. Oh, wait... rocket backpack! Trypticon activates it, spewing flames and smoke behind him as his velocity increases dramatically.

Windshear twitches a wing as his only answer to having heard what Outbound said and slides over to the pilots seat. Yes its been a while since hes flown the Despoiler. His mind thumbs through the data files he has stored for each of the EMpirs ships and their own individual quirks. As he reaches to beign more power to the ships 'standby' mode Shockwaves order comes in. He smirks, <"As you command, sir.">

Teh Despoiler suddenly lifts straight up, banks hard port and heads for Trypticon afterburners lighting up in a flash. Inside the suddenly movement of the ship is rough and hard. The Zombie Seeker keeps his seat and as per his style he belatedly warns, "Hang on, Outbound."

<Decepticon> LOOK Outbound says, "It...sounded like you said 'hang on'. Is that right? I really do hope that's slang for 'yes'..."

<Decepticon> Windshear scoffs, "Waht do I look like a minicon?"

<Decepticon> LOOK Outbound says, "..........No."

As requested, the skulker gives one last look over his sensors, keys it into Soundwave's personal dataline as well as standard Decepticon transmissions, then takes flight. e roars past the assembled groundcrew as he heads to the enormous dinosaur city that the Decepticons call home. Naturally the Beak has a special interest in this move...his gold perch is in there, and the rest of his stuff! With his sensor array, he easily locates the big bot, and the Cons riding herd on his metal rump. He pauses as telemetry notes the speed of Trypticon has increased. He pauses in flight. Contrail may not even notice him as she passes him. Trypticon....was rocket boosting...at him. It was now fact...that this is the worst day of this bird's life.

<Decepticon> Laserbeak says, "!!!"

Buzzkill looks as unhappy as ever when Contrail dumps Triggerhappy's body in front of her. She lets out a frustrated sigh and rubs her temples as if seeing him in his current condition gave her an instant migraine. "Triggerhappy, Triggerhappy, Triggerhappy... What will I do with you?" Another sigh and she kneels down beside the Targetmaster, tool box already phasing into her hand from subspace.

First thing's first, she pulls out a long, terrifying looking syringe; it's barrel filled with a green, translucent liquid. She pries open a panel on Triggerhappy's leg, sticks one of his more prominent fuel lines with the needle, and presses the plunger, flushing his systems with the chemical. It should act as a kind of adrenaline, kicking him out of stasis and back into reality.

Afterwards she gives him a hard slap across the face, just in case he wasn't totally awake yet.

<Decepticon> Windshear hears the short Decepticon kiss bulkhead suddenly, "No... thast what 'hang on' was for -- hit the magna locks faster nex time..."

Combat: Buzzkill runs a diagnostic check on Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter <Triggerhappy>

Contrail suggests to Buzzkill, "You /could/ give Triggerhaoppy embarassing new noseart. Maybe some... hexagons? Hmm!?"

Triggerhappy is abruptly jolted awake by the injection, and he jerks upward into a sitting position. And as if /that/ weren't enough, he is slapped hard upon the face by the Insecticon. "Ugh..." he groans. He feels as if he's been pounded into the ground by a million blocks of zolanium steel. But his optics light up when he sees that Buzzkill had been the one slapping him. "Oh, Buzzkill. Th-thank Primus..."

He checks his internal chronometer, wondering if it's still functional. How long had that fragger Outbound left him out in the Congo Basin?

Americon was pointing another gumby to relocate his rocket turret, but then disaster strikes! For once it's not Americon that screws it all up. No, it's the gumby this time that accidentally bumps and tips over the rocket turret, and it begins shooting rockets everywhere! "OH NO!" the gumby yells, and one of the rockets smacks into Americon, though fortunately he was still in the rocket's minimum safety distance which prevents it from detonating too close to the firer, and so Americon goes flying off--right at Trypticon! The frozen Casseticon watches in dismay as he rapidly closes in on the dino!

JU-87 <Banshee> yelps as she's shaken from her daze by a flying Americon-on-a-rocket. She swears, trailing a little smoke as she banks to avoid it. Then she spots the Despoiler coming, pulling WAY out of the way.

<<Ouch... zat hurt. Vot ist going on?!?>>

<Decepticon> Der Stukacon Banshee says, "Ouch... zat hurt. Vot ist going on?!?"

Trypticon rockets across the icy terrain, feet occasionally touching down long enough to propel himself back into the air. He's staring in Contrail's direction, but then something teeny and tiny passes his line of sight. It's so small that Trypticon can barely even see it. Raindance, maybe? Whatever it is, it's successfully gotten Trypticon's attention, and now the cityformer is flying after *Laserbeak* instead. This is an improvement, right? But wait, there's now a SECOND tiny little thing flying at him. TWO Raindances?!

"Rrrrrr..." Trypticon's growl comes from the back of his throat, as he's very confused by this turn of events. With the Despoiler coming in as well, Trypticon lands on the ground. There's rocket explosions going off in the distance, and for now Trypticon is more curious rather than murderous.

Back at camp, Shockwave is suddenly looming over the gumby that caused the rocket accident. "Explain yourself."

Windshear picks up laserbeak heading straight for Trypticon on the ships radar. Yea that wont last long and the Zombie Seeker can almost count the secons then the cassettecon will veer off and to the other way. He also picks up Banshee signal and sways a bit to the side to hopefully not get her caught in the washout as he goes by. Hes got the Despoiler at top atmospheric speed and is makign a beeline straight for Trypticons muzzle.

As the ship draws closer Windshear beings the weapons online and choses a nice mild but searing small nose cone laser. He brings up the targeting sites and waits for tone as he closes in on the Cityformer.

<"Hey, Trypticon."> Windshear says through the comm suddenly, <"Catch me...">

EEEEEPPP

Good tone. The Seeker pulls the trigger and then pulls up.

The little condor, just a little bitty Cassettecon....he doesn't even move, so petrified with the sheer size of Trypticon bearing down on him, like a vast predatory bird looming. There was simply nowhere to run, and no one could really blame Laserbeak if he suddenly lubricated the ice beneath him. Trypticon barrels into/past/through him without any delay, leaving the vulturebot right in his eye, and still in his view, and still in his way, for whatever incensed the great beast. Perhaps it was Laserbeak enjoying watching old footage of everyone and everything getting Galvcannoned repeatedly, perhaps his perch was giving the mighty dinosaur an itch. The most peculiar bit of being a bug-on-the-windshield here was that Beaker doesn't even squawk. Sometimes the best thing to do is go to your happy place.

INSIDE LASERBEAK'S HAPPY PLACE

"Wow, what a great set!" exclaims one of faux-Banshee's gumbies in the band while putting instruments up. "I can't believe how you melted that metal!" Accolades are given as the lead guitar transforms into his condor mode, perhaps raised up a bit higher by the praise, by the enjoyment of his life's work now. "And now the second haff of the evening's entertainment" Faux-Banshee gestures vividly. On the table, was a strapped down Bumblebee. "Let us proceed vith this piece of scrap." Laserbeak perches on the yellow Infiltrator's stomach, his eyes glowing red, and the evening...the evening was just getting started.

It was a good life.

Buzzkill was all set to give Triggerhappy another slap but it seems the injection did it's job. Ah well, she'll just have to find another excuse to hit him. "Of course I'm here!" she snaps. "Where else would I be?" She grabs the Targetmaster tight on the shoulder and forcefully pushes him back into a laying position against the ice. "Now try to stay still, we have to get this done quick."

She retrieves all sorts of sharp, nasty looking tools from her tool box and begins repairing Triggerhappy's damage. There's the whirring of blades as she cuts him open with a power saw, the crackle of electricity as she cuts and ties his damaged wiring, and then the flying sparks when she welds everything back together. All in all, it doesn't take long at all and as soon as she finishes she pulls him back up into a sitting position and gives him her sternest glare. "It is done. Now get back out there and do your job."

Combat: Buzzkill expertly repairs Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter <Triggerhappy>'s injuries.

Combat: Buzzkill is able to repair some of Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter <Triggerhappy>'s internal systems damage.

Combat: Buzzkill runs a diagnostic check on Cybertronian Turbo-Thrust Jet Fighter <Triggerhappy>

SKREEEE BOOOOOM! The rocket Americon was riding impacts right onto Trypticon's nose and explodes! It's quite pretty, though, so maybe it's not a total loss.

Back at camp, though, the gumby who tipped over the rocket launcher stares up at Trypticon, mouth agape. "Uhhhh... well, er... that stupid Cassette was, like, right in the way of this thing when I was pushing it, and uh, he got under it and caused it to tip over and it's all his fault, sir! I respectfully suggest the harshest punishment possible for him, sir." He fidgets.

<Decepticon> Windshear says blandly, "I really hope you magnalocked yourself, Outbound..."

<Decepticon> Der Stukacon Banshee says, "Vot... ze frag is going on!"

Wow, Buzzkill really can work fast if it's necessary! She really is good. And that's about the millionth time Triggerhappy has told himself that. Yeah, it hurt pretty badly but he isn't the type to whine about that sort of stuff! As soon as she's finished, he nods his thanks to her, but looks slightly confused. "Wait, what job?" There aren't any Autobot e-sigs on his sensor arrays. He's been stasis locked the entire time. Mostly, anyway. "Why are they attacking Trypticon?"

<Decepticon> Triggerhappy says, "That's what I'm wondering..."

Trypticon's optics flash. But Laserbeak is still there! Like... right in front of him! But slightly to the right. Trypticon swipes one of his useless fore-arms at where he thinks Laserbeak is, but isn't even close. Before Trypticon can get *really* mad, a laser bolt deflects off his nose. "RRRRR?!" he turns and stares at the Despoiler. And Raindance is STILL RIGHT THERE WITH IT! "TRYPTICON WILL NOT CATCH YOU... TRYPTICON WILL *ANNIHILATE* YOU!!!" The cityformer charges after the Despoiler, rocketing up into the sky after it. At maximum velocity they might be a match for one another, but the Despoiler definitely has the agility advantage.

At the camp, Shockwave kneels and examines the rocket launcher. It might not seem like it, but he is listening to what the gumby is saying. After a scan, Shockwave stands upright again. "The launcher has an assembly flaw," he declares, cutting the gumby off mid-excuse. "The accident could not be reasonably expected to be avoided." Shockwave turns and steps away, leaving the gumby 100% unharmed...

...until he pauses and adds, "Do note that placing undue blame on others is a capital offence. Make it again at your peril."

<Decepticon> Laserbeak says, "!(hr,!)(hg,!)(hb,!)(hw,!)"

JU-87 <Banshee> swings in behind Trypticon, readying one of her 250kg bombs just in case -she- needs to distract Trypticon to give the Despoiler time to escape.

<<Frack! Arschlocher! Jeder einzelne von euch ist ein Arschloch! Arschlocher!>> She curses, flying wildly to avoid any ordnance that might be zipping around. <<Sheiss!>>

<Decepticon> Der Stukacon Banshee says, "Frack! Arschlocher! Jeder einzelne von euch ist ein Arschloch! Arschlocher!"

The gumby ulps at Shockwave's parting comment. "Y-yes, sir." He reflects that being a Decepticon is pretty awesome right up until you piss off the wrong guy. Best not to try and do it again.

Americon himself lands in front of Shockwave a moment later, a smoking heap. The smoke clears, and Americon pops up to his feet, all the ice on him having been blasted away. "WOO! I feel a lot better now. Hrm..." He rubs his chin. "I had a critical mission, but something exploded me and I forgot what it was!" Something to do with... a jolly human?

Windshear hears Trypticons bellow and takes a moment to clear his mind. He pays close attention to the ship beneath him and around and becomes one with the Despoiler (hey ok so it sounds corny but still). And he starts manuvering it like its his own body, well at least to its limits. What better pilot then a Seeker, right? He keeps an optic on the huge citymech behind him and periodically slows down to let Trypty come closer then speeds back up. But hes also putting that ship through moves it was probably never designed for to stay out of the huge mechs weapons reach and his maw.

Windshear heads straight for the target spot where its been determined for Trypty to stay. As for anything in the Despoilers way? They are on their own. The Zombie Seeker has not the time to compensate for anyone too slow to get out of the way. If this fails and Trypty gets a hold of him he will probably be as dead as he looks and he doesnt exactly want that right now. <"Get everything out of the way, hes coming in."> Windshear announces through the open comm and continues to bait the dinocon to stay on his tail.

Triggerhappy's confusion about the entire situation makes Buzzkill sigh another frustrated sigh. "Are you stupid or something!?" Man, she's such a bitch. "We're in the process of moving Trypticon to his new location but he's being his typical stupid dinosaur self so he needs a little reassuring." She points off in the distance, the explosions and commotion clear despite the icey winds whipping around them. The Insecticon grabs Triggerhappy's arm and stands, dragging him up with her. "Go! Make yourself useful and assist the Despoiler!"

Windshear is playing suicide chicken with Trypticon to the saranade of pissed off german in his audios >_>

Realization comes across Triggerhappy's face as he finally comprehends the situation. Then he grins. Oh, yes! Excellent, this would be fun! "Oh, right! On it, ma'am!" he salutes, and his gaze falls upon Blowpipe, who hadn't been caught from his fall out of the Despoiler. Thankfully his exo-suit has protected him from suffering too much damage. "Blowpipe, quit slacking off and get back over here! We've got work to do!"

And with that, grabs his Targetmaster partner before transforming and flying off right into Trypticon's face. "HEY DINO-SLAG, BETCHA COULDN'T HIT ME EVEN ONCE! HAHAHAHAHAHAH!" He shouts, his pulse guns blazing.

Shockwave looks down (not just physically, mind you) at Americon as he lands in a crumpled heap in front of him. Is the ice melting a bit around the Cassetticon? "The coverage of the rocket assemblies," he states. It is tough to gauge at what level Shockwave's patience is at, but needless to say, he has already run the simulations on what would happen if he executed every Decepticon who failed to take their duty seriously. The end result was he and Buzzkill sitting in a room together trying to figure out how the pair of them were going to defeat the Autobot army.

Trypticon is getting closer... closer... and closer to the Despoiler! He opens his mouth, ready to snack on the shuttle's tail. His mouth slams shut, but the pirate ship has sped off! It is a cruel and vicious thing that Windshear does to him. Trypticon tries to stick with the shuttle, but it is like a fat person fighting through a crowded room to reach a Krispy Kreme doughnut.

Alarms start going off, warning of Trypticon's impending approach. Decepticons start running around like mad, clearing the power-base that Trypticon is supposed to transform on. Trypticon can now be seen racing towards the area. Upon seeing Triggerhappy getting in his face, the mech swats at him, pulling up just above the canyon walls. "TRYPTICON CRUSH ALL AUTO-..." He takes a second look. "RARRRRRRRRRR TRYPTICON CRUSH YOU ALL ANYWAY!!"

Scrape....Scrape......The plastered vulturebot shudders as the wind picks at him, scraping him across Trypticon's massive eye. He weakly looks around at his position against the glass. The remnants of some unfortunate Sweep perhaps, stuck in Trypticon's eye. How long had THAT been there? The wind rustles him again, then flings him off of the cityformer finally. He sails through the wind, like a paper, just drifting...drifting. He blinks his bleary eyes, something was going on that disturbed him, but... He would shrug if capable of it, for a few moments he was content and at peace. Blissfully he imagines plucking the last bit of code out of that nemesis of his, Bumblebee and possibly Buzzsaw, and then...well, then it's just gratuitous fun after that...

A shadow appears above the ice as he gets pushed back by the wind, not even bothering to fly. The condor ponders the minicon he seemed on a collision course with. "Wasn't that that arschloch he hated?" In a spectacular, but passive instant, the two minicons collide in a heap. The snow drifts over Laserbeak for a few minutes, he stares blankly up at Shockwave, lets out a pathetic squawk and is silent, letting the snow cover him for a while.

Windshear has to compensate for the just missed chomp by Trypticon. It rocks the Despoiler slightly. That was way too close for comfort. His optics scan all the guages and controls quickly. Good the ship is doing ok. Wait, the starboard engine is starting to overheat. Come on doesnt anyone ever do tune ups and matainance on the Empires ships anymore?

The Zombie Seeker rapidly adjusts for the starboard engine -- diverting more power to the port side but adding more power to the starboard thrusters to compensate. The ship doesnt slow down but continues toward the spot marked X for the big brute to go.

<"Youre getting slow in your old age, Trypticon."> Windshear teases. <"I bet Metroplex could beat you to your new spot right now without even trying."> Yea thats it Windy make him even madder why dont you.

JU-87 <Banshee> swoops low over Trypticon to give Windshear and the others some space, then drops down to transform near the big power-platform. She touches down on Winshear's break-points and pulls out two orange beacons, guiding him in.

<<FLY, VINDY YOU ARSCHLOCH, FLY!>>

Folding and shifting, Banshee transforms into robot mode.

<Decepticon> Der Stukacon Banshee says, "FLY, VINDY YOU ARSCHLOCH, FLY!"

<Decepticon> Windshear Im not flying out of the air lock right now, Banshee! Im busy!

<Decepticon> Der Stukacon Banshee says, "I am on your break-point. FLY ZE SHIP, numbnuts!"

<Decepticon> Windshear opens his chan to reply and for a moment only the sounds of the DEspoilers engines at redline cay be heard. Above that is the roaring and stomping of a really slagged off Trypticon. Numbnuts? He doesnt even want to go there and slowly the chan is shut off.

Triggerhappy is swatted at by the giant, but he easily evades Trypticon's somewhat clumsy claw-swipes. He continues laughing maniacally as his weapons continue firing. "That the best you can do, you oversized reptile?!" he taunts further as he makes his way toward the designated location. "Come /on/, show us what've you got, you're better than /that/!"

<Decepticon> Octane says, "Ticked off the big guy, huh?"

<Decepticon> Windshear mutters, "Orders..."

Trypticon hovers just above the canyon walls. Far below him is the power-base. He looks at the Despoiler. He looks at the power-base. "METROPLEX /SLOW/. METROPLEX *NEVER* TAKE TRYPTICON'S HOME!!" The Decepticon cityformer spies Banshee's guiding lights and slowly begins to descend. Decepticons, Shockwave included, very quickly vacate the area in order to give the big guy room. "TRYPTICON WILL RE-ENERGIZE. THEN BEAT METROPLEX."

The ground shakes as Trypticon touches down. He's right where we want him, but he isn't in city mode just yet. If he twitches wrong, Banshee could get a five story foot to the face. "PROMISE TRYPTICON THAT YOU GET METROPLEX HERE SO TRYPTICON CAN KILL HIM!" Re-energize, wait for Metroplex to show up, and then bash his head in. It's the perfect crime.

As he stands on the power-base, he glares at Triggerhappy. The behemoth's optics suddenly turn swirly as he activates his hypno-beams on the Targetmaster, trying to get the jet fighter to smash into the icy canyon walls.

Shockwave, now clear of the power-base, reaches down and grabs Laserbeak by the wing. Given the weather conditions, it's very possible that Laserbeak could otherwise be buried here forever.

<Decepticon> Der Stukacon Banshee says, "When I signal, break left unt up. Ninety degrees both directions, as hard as you can - oh, never mind, guidink Trypticon down..."

Banshee yelps, expecting herself to be guiding Winshear on his break-off, but instead she's shepherding the big Cityformer down. She signals for his attention and then begins to guide him down.

"Sehr gut, Oberfuhrer Trypticon. Bring it down, transform, unt ve'll haff you ready to bash Metroplex' head in in no time."

Windshear realizes Trypticon's touched down and breaks left and then vertical. Hes got to get the ship far enough away from trypticon before he lands and checks out that motor.

<Decepticon> Windshear says, "Nonetheless I did so.""

<Decepticon> Der Stukacon Banshee says, "Sehr gut, Oberfuhrer Trypticon. Bring it down, transform, unt ve'll haff you ready to bash Metroplex' head in in no time."

<Decepticon> Der Stukacon Banshee says, "Danke, Vindy."

<Decepticon> Windshear smiles, "Any time."

Triggerhappy is hit by the hypno-beam and indeed is sent careening into the icy walls of the canyon. He smacks into a wall, and the ice cracks upon impact as the Targetmaster falls to the bottom of the canyon, precariously near to Trypticon's feet. Looks like he's going to need repairs yet /again/.

Trypticon is silent for a few moments as he kicks at the power-base like a customer kicking the tires of a new car. He looks at Banshee. "YOU /PROMISED/." he says. The cityformer will remember this, and it is with a loud clanking and clattering that Trypticon finally folds down into his city mode. The last thing his optics see is Triggerhappy smacking into the canyon wall, which Trypticon finds hilarious. "HA HA HA HEH HEH EHHHH HEH HEH HEH HA..." his laughter fades as he transforms. Huge panels flip out from his legs and body as he expands around the power-base, plugging in and getting some of that wonderous energon. He might not like this place any better than Newfoundland (or Labrador, as Redshift insists on correcting), but at least there's infrastructure around him now.

Shockwave, after handing Laserbeak off, steps up to the giant, confirming that he is indeed back in hibernation and the connection with his power-base is secure. <<Decepticons, well done. Banshee, Windshear, Laserbeak, you are to be commended for your efforts.>> Someone will have to tell Laserbeak later.

Tap-tappity-tap-tap...tap. So many notes! Being in the middle of a covert operation sure did require a lot of documentation. Luckily this whole Trypticon thingie provided just enough time for the finishing touches to be placed onto some very vital 'loose endpoints' that needed clarification. Outbound sighs happily, and entwines his pointed fingers before stretching his hands high above his head. "Oohhhh... Yeahhh," he groans before canting his head from left to right as if to remove the kinks before removing the maglock that kept him in his seat in order to head for Despoiler's cockpit. "SO! Are we finished yet?" the infantrymech asks Windshear, the CO-pilot.

Banshee nods approvingly as Trypticon settles into place. "I vill sing great epics of ze day it happens, and paint a mural of ze moment on Earth's moon, zo ze whole VORLD knows of it."

Windshear brings the Despoiler down perfectly and unjarringly and then starts workign the controls to reset everthing and power down. "Yea we are finished, Outbound." he says quietly. "Though I have to run some systems checks on the starboard motor before we lift off again. When was the last time this ship has a check up?"

had*

Trypticon likes Banshee's idea. He has absolutely no idea what a mural is and he's quite certain that singing is just a rare form of screaming in terror, but he still likes the idea. Nevertheless, he gives no sign of it as he goes back to sleep. His interior lights come back online. It'll take a few days before everything is back in working order. Who knows what got tossed around in there during this ordeal.

Americon, after having been slammed into by Laserbeak, is buried in the snow again, one of his arms protruding outwards. The camera zooms in. And then, suddenly, the fist clenches. Then it throws up the horns. Waves the horns up and down.

Outbound smirks. "A couple of orbital cycles ago... It suffered some minor damage from that idiot Triggerhappy, but luckily his aim is almost as poor as his processor speed." Clearly OB has much love for Trigs. "So, how's the old girl looking, hm? Does my baby need a little medicine?" he asks, giving Despoiler's main console an affectionate pat.

Triggerhappy lies motionless at the bottom of the canyon for a few moments before recollecting himself. He transforms, standing up and dusting himself off as Trypticon finally establishes himself at his new base and goes into hibernation. "Well! That was fun!" he grins. "Mission accomplished."

But now Blowpipe is trying to clandestinely tell him something. "Huh? What? Oooh...hm." Now it looks like he is talking to himself. But Triggerhappy is crazy, anyway, so no one should really think anything weird is happening, right?

Windshear pulls out an enercig and lights it. "This ship should not have left port again till she was checked out. Trypticon didnt touch her, shes fine." he watches the mech pet the controls and smirks, "I flew the Despoiler a fair bit before I left. Shes tight, but.. the Absolution is the one I prefer to fly." nothing like flying the Starship, he thinks to himself.

Once Triggerhappy has finished his conversation with Blowpipe, he makes his way over to Shockwave. "Sir, could I ask you something real quick? In private."

Shockwave is just finishing his scan of the power-base when Triggerhappy arrives. "Very well. With me." Trypticon's main doors open and Shockwave steps through. Does being in Trypticon still count as being private?

Triggerhappy's rank/title is 1/Executrix Mk.II. Division: Aerospace.

Triggerhappy follows the Military Commander inside Trypticon, who is now in hibernation. Not that it would matter if he could hear what was being said anyway, since he has the intelligence of a dinobot, but at any rate he waits until everyone else is out of audio receptor range.

"You know anything about some kind of plan involving Outbound working for the Autobots with all of his spark, 'consciously and subconsciously'? Not insisting that /I/ have to know everything about it, but just making sure you do."

Maybe a little shy of a Dinobot. Once inside Trypticon, Shockwave strides through the halls, examining each room one by one. As usual, anything not bolted or strapped down before the move has been tossed about, but since Trypticon didn't actually receive any damage, everything seems to be in working order. "Outbound is attempting to deceive the Autobots operating in the Sahara with false offers of non-aggression." Shockwave finishes his scan of the medical ward. That was top priority since the move always sends a few Decepticons to it. "I expect the plan will fail and the Autobots will terminate him." Shockwave says all this without any hesitation. He has no problem revealing Outbound's plan or his prediction on the results.

"Yes, well... I consider all of the shuttles and various craft of the Empire my babies," Outbound responds dully enough. "I have always used them more often than most other Decepticons that were wise enough to learn how to pilot the various craft," he notes in a tone that is somewhat dry, but somehow neglects to lack an air of holier than thou.

Windshear raises an optic ridge, "Then you need to dig around further in your datacomputer." the Zombie Seeker says, "I flew them on a regular bases. All of them and I would do mantainance on them even on my off time. They were.. my.. babies before they were yours." he stands and hits the lever to open the loading bay door. "Im checking on the starboard motor. Continue with your .. plotting, Outbound." and he walks outside and to the motor in question.

"Okay, so..." But something about this just doesn't sit right with Triggerhappy, and Blowpipe can put a finger on it. "But did he tell you about that part? About somehow convincing himself that he really -is- some kind of a double agent for the Autobots? I mean couldn't that be, I don't know, -dangerous- to our cause? He could get carried away and actually do something detrimental to our operations. If you think he's going to fail anyway..." Why risk it?

"So... We were discussing the mindwipe before this little interruption," Outbound starts after a bit of a pause, deciding that arguing the point wit Windshear wasn't worth the trouble. "I will be sending a message over a secure channel soon, and expect a response rather soon thereafter. When that response comes in the timing must be perfect, so... I will need you to remain close and ready to execute the mindwipe program when I say so." Outbound follows Windshear out of Despoiler, and casually looks over the section of the ship that was damaged in the 'tryst' with Trypticon.

Shockwave turns his head down towards Blowpipe, momentarily stopping his examination of the medical bay. "Double agent? Convincing himself that he really is an Autobot?" Shockwave's confusion and growing suspicions should answer Triggerhappy's question about whether he knows of this or not.

Windshear has an access panel open and is lookign around and visually inspecting the componants inside, "HAve you considered a contingency (sp) plan in case this mindwipe backfires -- something goes wrong and you lose your identity...among other things in this venture? Or..." he pauses and looks at Outbound, "Am I that contingency plan?"

Outbound stares at Windshear for a moment, just a bit astonished at the Seeker's foresight. Clearly he did choose well his companion, but did he choose too well? Hmmm. "Naturally I have failsafes in place. I mentioned before that the plan will not fail... It will not fail because I have bothered to be 'thorough'," the infantrymech states, and holds his forearm out before him and his datacomputer unfolds from out of subspace and he begins typing away with his right-hand digits. "I have time release triggers set specifically to guide my actions once the mindwipe is complete. The information contained within each guiding message is limited to need to know, which keeps me from knowing too much...or doing something too foolish."

Triggerhappy shrugs, looking down at his Nebulon partner. It was he who had overheard the conversation in the Congo Basin. "I don't know, Shockwave. I just know I overheard him saying that he needed to be fully convinced, consciously and subconsciously, that he was in the service of the Autobots. He...claimed that it was for personal gain. His and Windshear's. I'm not sure exactly how he planned to do it, but Windshear was involved somehow. Memory implants, maybe, but he appeared awfully certain that this plan of his wouldn't fail, though he still mentioned failsafes."

Shockwave is silent for some time even after Triggerhappy finishes. He stares directly at Windshear. While possibly intimidating, this is only because the Military Commander is thinking. He, however, is approaching this from another angle. Outbound made the request to him and him alone. At the time dismissed this as a minor blip and did not pursue it, but if Outbound does something that causes a disaster and it turns out Shockwave knew and did not inform Galvatron... hrm. Shockwave is not *frightened* of Galvatron, of course, but he is very wary of him, and antagonizing what has otherwise been a fairly stable relationship of late is not in the Empire's best interests... and certainly not in Shockwave's best interests. "You were correct to come to me with this," Shockwave finally says. "I will get to the bottom of this."

Windshear looks back inside the motor conpartment suddenly and is deep in thought. That is until his hand hits something deep inside that shouldnt be there. The dead looking Seeker grabs onto somethign and yanks it out. Its a turborats nest complete with a turborat caught in his grip. He closes tightens his grip until the rat squals and dies then he tosses it to the ground. "If your failsafes are anything like the mantainance on yoru 'baby' then I think Im going to have to go in firing to pull your aft out of the pit before its over..."

Outbound waves a poionty-fingered hand, dismissing Windshear's comment as nonsense before it returns to typing away on his datacomputer. "Ridiculous. I have not performed any maintenance upon this vessel..."

Blowpipe and Triggerhappy appear satisfied with the Commander's response to this, and they both nod. "Just doing my duty to the Empire, Lord Shockwave." The Nebulan says.

"Anything else you wanna ask about?" Triggerhappy continues. "I think that was just about everything we know, but I could try to find out more."

"Thats my point exactly!" Windshear says, his voice tighten up on that rare occasion and nearly falling into an eery pitched rasp that is hauntingly familar sounding. "You havent had the forthought /to/ do matainance -- or see to it being done on this ship." his voice regains his manson baraton timber then, "Look back through your failsafes and find what youre missing. I dont know what they are but Id lay credits that your overlooking something..." he glances at the dead turbo rat and back at Outbound, "Id say this proves it."

Triggerhappy's rank in the Decepticon faction is now 3.

"Continue tracking him," Shockwave orders. "Inform myself and Director Contrail if he deviates from whatever plan he lays out in his response to my demands." Shockwave would normally terminate the project, but that might catch Galvatron's attention. "Your loyalty is duly noted, Lieutenant Triggerhappy."

The Targetmaster and his organic partner salute sharply. "Yes sir!" The two of them chorus. Wait, Lieutenant? Was that a promotion? Triggerhappy looks at Blowpipe uncertainly, and the other shrugs, their thoughts silently communicated. But he doesn't ask for specifics. If that were the case, he'd find out soon enough.

And then the two of them are off, transforming and making for a port back outside.

Outbound smirks at Windshear. Is this Seeker for real? He sure hopes so... "Indeed," he begins only to receive an update directly from Shockwave himself. The infantrymech scans over the material and actually chuckles. "Interesting..." he muses. "I wonder what prompted THIS." Clearly there was someone snooping around him recently, but who? "No matter... Easily taken care of," he says aloud, and begins to type again.

Windshear narrows his optics and studies Outbound for a moment, "Whats going on?"

Windshear watches and waits for an answer as he sees Outbound is busy with some communicaton. It seems to be intense and he can just imagine whats going on. "Anytime youre ready..." he says finally after several minutes of silence.

Outbound chuckles again as he receives a response from Shockwave. That's twice now he's shown genuine amusement to anyoen who's counting. "Oh nothing... My attempts to keep this little mission more secret appear to be rather futile at this point. Still, only select parties of a certain status are now aware." A shrug is offered after a moment spent pondering. "This may actually improve the likelihood of success... Perhaps," the mech offers before sending a sizable datadump on command staff.

Shockwave returns to ensuring that Trypticon didn't break anything during his psychotic episode. Let Contrail weigh in on the Intelligence issues. As for 'Lieutenant Triggerhappy', it is indeed!

Windshear flicks a wing and turns back to double check for any turbo rat chew damage, remove any remaining rat mess and seal everything back up. "You will have to inform me of the details, Outbound. It will better enable me to save your aft when the times comes." he is done and shits the access panel. Then he turns back to head to the ship but pauses and regards Outbound again, "This is a steep for hitching a ride back here from Sixlasers you know..."

"Yes, well... The reason for maintaining such a level of secrecy was to ensure that if any other Decepticons are captured and interrogated between now and the time that I make my own gamble that they would be unable to ruin everything," Outbound explains. "But yes, now you will be made aware of more information." Mention of the ride back from the Six Lasers has the infantrymech a bit puzzled. He just stares at the Seeker, but it did manage to get him to cease typing!

Windshear nods vaguely and re-enters the Despoiler. As he sits down in the pilots seat he begins running diagnostics on the starboard motor. "That is a good idea in theory but, if something does go wrong if no one knows exactly whats goign on it wont end well for you because everone /here/ will think you went traitor for real..."

"That is the point of the failsafes..." Outbound offers blandly and then goes right back to typing. "If I am captured then naturally I am as good as dead. If they kill me...well, I am dead. Anything else happens then the failsafes are in place and I retrieve what information I need. Originally it was only Shockwave who knew what I was doing on any level. He told me that it was my aft if I failed, that there would be no help... That is the nature of this game, Windshear." And who says you need to be completely insane (Triggerhappy) to have robot balls?

Windshear is happy with the diagnostic readings and brings the starboard engine on line. Then he fires the ship up and starts going through preflight. Was he even listening to Outbound? "Now... I cant just let you go in there and get in over your head and die." he begins as he continues with the preflight procedures, "Slag it but you drug me into this and I cant just let you go off on a fools ploy and get yourself killed..."

"So pleased to know that I am so cared for..." Outbound says, though his tone would suggest a certain lack of care for the care. "Do not get too close, however. This is exactly what I had hoped to avoid... The more that others know the more likely one is to foul things up by attempting to intervene and render assistance at the wrong time. I would rather have the rest of our forces truly believing that I had betrayed them than THAT alternative..." Once again, thanks a lot Triggerhappy. Too bad Outbound doesn't know who to blame for all of this, cuz if he did... He'd probably buy him a drink.

Windshear looks at Outbound, "Who says Im going to muk it up? If I know the plan that wont happen now will it?" he really isnt interested in what Outbound hopes to acheive in this crazy plan but he knows the mechs going to need help before its over. And he has no reason really to not help him. I mean they are in this together arent they? Decepticons trying to destroy the Autobots...any way they can. What a shame others in the Empire arent the same, eh?

Too bad indeed, for if that was the case they'd have likely already won this war. Outbound for example isn't in it for the Empire, Outbound is in it for Outbound and certainly knows that making an enemy of the Empire is a foolish thing to do. That and the fact that lets face it, the survival of the fittest motto of the Decepticons is a far better fit for him than whatever the Bots are all about. "No battle plan survives contact with the enemy..." Outbound states. "Which is why you always have several. With more now in the know the plan has not survived, but the idea continues on. Let us hope that what has transpired keeps this new creation as brilliant as my original." With that Outbound activates the record feature on his datacomputer (indicated by Mr. Red Light), and begins to observe Windshear's maintenance in silence.

Windshear listens to what Outbound says in silence and busys himself with getting the shit back to Cybertron.