Anti-Subtle

The Steel Balloon

Within the Steel Balloon, there is a dance floor immediately past the front door. Behind the floor is the main bar, which curves around like an elongated half-octagon. Several bartenders busily serve the customers that flow into this place at any given time.

Fleet has entered The Steel Balloon.

 All across the Western United States, the early evening sky is lit up by the launch of the Autobot starship Orion Pax from its secret construction site in the Nevada desert.

A nondescript olive green and black car robot sits at the bar, nursing one drink. People always look in the darkest corner - that's where the people who don't want to be found go. So he sits at the bar, staring dismally at his drink, as if it is his first of the night and likely also his last. No one questions a depressed robot at a bar.

 Nightbeat says, "The Steel Balloon. Look for the olive green and black robot at the bar but don't be too obvious about it."

A purple Seeker enters. There are millions in the empire, and now one of those millions walks into the Steel Balloon. The difference, of course, is that this Seeker isn't normally purple - and in fact, if he weren't having his way with the light spectrum, he wouldn't be purple right now. However, it seems that it's recently become very unhealthy to be a blue and yellow Seeker on Cybertron. The colors, however, do not disguise the walk, light and quick. Tip-tap-tip-tap-tip. A quick survey of the room is all it takes to spot who he's after, and then he tips and taps his way to the bar and slides into the stool next to the olive and black car.

 Fleet says, "Understood."

The olive robot doesn't even need to look sidelong at the Seeker. He heard him coming, even outside the bar. He does, however, greet the Seeker in a low voice with, "Ordering anything?" He needs to know if he needs to pay off his depressingly short chit right now or not.

"I suppose one for the road would not be a bad idea," the Seeker says softly, though he adds, "But I'd rather not take long." He adds, whispering, "Our transport is distinctive."

The olive robot suggests, "Get one for the road," implying that the Seeker will need it. The olive robot still needs to finish the drink he's nursing, anyway. No one would ever believe he is who he really is, seeing how he drinks here and now. Then, he covers half his face with a hand and murmurs, "Is it? Slagging wonderful." Would a little discretion kill them?

The Seeker shrugs, murmuring, "Didn't design it." He orders his drink, asking for it in a cube. This time he takes rather a normal mix, his usual caution taking control.

The olive green robot notes agreeably, "Didn't think you were a shipwright." He takes a sip of his drink, pausing to consider how it really tastes. Ashes, this is horrible! This is why he usually just swigs his drinks in great big gulps. He decides to pay off his chit now, sliding over some shanix to the bartender.

The Seeker slips quietly onto his stool - well, not quietly if you're someone with especially enhances senses. But quietly if you're a normal Transformer with normal senses. He pays for his drink and lifts his cube, taking a long, long sip. He pauses, expression considering, then shrugs and drinks again. Anything he'd want to say, he'd rather not say here, anyway.

The olive robot finally finishes his drink and looks mournfully at the empty container. Then, he stands and starts to amble casually toward the door. He doesn't really look over at the Seeker as he walks. It's a bit odd for a car to exit with a Seeker. He braces himself for how this ship of theirs is going to look.

The Seeker does an excellent job of looking like he just happens to be leaving at the same time as the olive robot, rather than leaving /with/ the olive robot. His motions are casual, for him, though he's still has all his normal grace. He steps outside.

Fleet leaves The Steel Balloon.

You leave The Steel Balloon.

Koriolis Desert

Out in the open, this unprotected section of the Old Cybertron Highway was hit heavily in the fighting and is only now being rebuilt. Other than the highway, the area is a total wasteland. Where energon once ran freely in rivers, there is now only a bleak, barren desert subject to frequent blinding, air intake-choking, paint scarring dust storms. Visibility is poor; even the brightest starlight does nothing to illuminate the amorphous mass of dust, slowly swirling almost like pea-soup fog. Half-rebuilt sections show where construction has been temporarily abandoned. The brand new materials gleam like new-found hope, a distinct contrast to the metal dust and grit of this grim desert.

Contents:

Fleet

Reaver Shuttle 

Spiral Tower

The Steel Balloon

Obvious exits: Fly  leads to Sky above New Cybertron Highway. East  leads to New Cybertron Highway . West  leads to Vestral Overpass.

Reaver Shuttle 

This shuttle has been corrupted almost beyond recognition. Where gleaming surfaces once cut through the atmosphere with an engineer's precision, there now exists only a rusted chaos of metal. Shards of hideously disfigured robotic corpses are lashed to the hull -- some are mounted on spikes, some are twisted into barbed wire, and others appeared to have been welded straight onto the shuttle, so the victims appear to be trying to escape from some unimaginable terror within.

Also, it appears to be on fire. Watch out for that.

Fleet has left.

Fleet enters the Reaver Shuttle .

You enter the Reaver Shuttle .

Reaver Shuttle 

The interior of the shuttle is very roomy. There is a highly technical cockpit that seats numerous bots at various stations, and a huge cargo area for additional troops or equipment.

This vessel requires Reaver to use. Syntax: DO  - IE. do east, do +profile, do attack scourge=laser. l/o           - Looks outside.

Contents:

Fleet

The olive robot simply cannot stop facepalming as soon as she sees the shuttle. He had expected something pretty bad, but he has honestly not been expecting... this. Once inside, Nightbeat exclaims, clearly protesting, "This is on fire! This is the opposite of subtle! I think this may be the definition of anti-subtle."

"I told you," Fleet answers, dropping his holograms, "I didn't design it." He slips into the pilot's seat. "I have no idea how to put the fire out. I flew it all the way from Alkor Zephyr with it like that. If it'll burn continuously in space like that, I think it's pretty much un-put-outtable."

Nightbeat grimaces, "Weird mystic fire. Check. I guess that's a downside of working this gig." He doesn't seem as perturbed by the bodies as he is by the fire, which shows that there's something rather wrong with Nightbeat, not that a Decepticon would notice. Nightbeat immediately moves to the co-pilot's seat and tries to get familiar with the controls, in case he ever needs to fly this devil bird.

Fleet, indeed, would not notice. Even under normal circumstances, he would mostly be glad that the bodies weren't him. "Kup recognized me from the tape," he observes casually. "Between the holograms and the fact that I'm a Seeker, I may still be able to cause some confusion, but for the most part I'm a covert agent now." He smiles. "Just as well. It got... troublesome, to be constantly forgetting part of myself."

Outside, You rise upward to the Sky above New Cybertron Highway.