2015-05-16 Code 211

From Transformers: Lost and Found

Code 211
Date 2015/05/16
Location Delphi
Participants Blast Off, Fortress Maximus, Grimlock, Rodimus, Slugfest
Plot Trouble at Delphi
Scene GM Tez
Summary The Lost Lighters get their ships back!

Good news: Blast Off finds the ships.

Bad news: both Rodimus's ship and Drift's ship are parked outside DJD HQ, which is swarming with even more of those weird, eyeless golden drones.

Rodimus is right on the edge of telling Drift, "You got get--!" when the DJD thing was added, and his demand that Drift go do the work while he sits back and relaxes goes up in smoke. (The smoke is from the fiery glare that Ratchet sends him at the hastily aborted suggestion.) So ... no on that, then.

Splitting the team to leave some back with the medics, Rodimus leads the others out into the snow cold, bitching the whole time. "--thought they were supposed to terrorize /Decepticons/, not Autobots, and how exactly is it terrorizing when they are just stealing our ship, anyway? This whole thing is weird. --Max! Stop thinking about shooting Blast Off! I know you were just thinking 'he'll never notice' but you're right there and I might not be looking at you but it'd be pretty hard to miss!"

"You ever met a Con who didn't want to terrorize a Bot?" If you have, Grimlock doesn't believe you, and he glances pointedly at Blast Off for good measure. He glances back at Fort Max, looking a /little/ sympathetic, but only a little. "We're not supposed to shoot them right now. Hot Rod made up a new name and decided so."

Blast Off is still eying Maximus warily, though at least he finally gets SOME kind of help from Rodimus. No shooting the Decepticons who are now on your side OUGHT to be pretty basic, you'd like, but given what had happened earlier even that much seems like something. Grimlock gets a pointed look. "...I did not join up with this ship to "terrorize Autofool- er, -bots," he protests (his new favorite word), and looks from grimlock to Maximus, "The war is over. We are all on the same side now, and if we are going to get out of this in one piece I suggest we *work together*."

Then he goes back to looking at the *DJD HQ*...and this gives the Decepticon some pause. He's looking increasingly unsettled by that. In fact, he seems to be trying to sort of edge back and stay out of easy sight of that building...without actually *looking* like he is. Because he's haughty and aloof and not at ALL WORRIED now. No, of course not. *back away*.

Fortress Maximus can hardly believe the war ended while he was in a coma. It'd felt as if it would never end. In fact, he's beginning feel somewhat...lost? He was created by the war, for the war...his job for most of it was keeping war criminals contained. Without it, what is he? He's not even sure.

Maximus glares at Hot Rod, not liking him one bit, and not liking this situation one bit, either. Especially having to work with a -Combaticon.- "Grimlock has a point, Hot Rod." Yes, he's still calling Rodimus Hot Rod. "If we technically won the war, shouldn't they be our -prisoners-, after everything they've done? Not working alongside us as if they were always our allies? Don't you think the last thing we ought to do is -trust- them?"

"Rod-i-mus." Their brave, bold captain mutters something that sounds an awful lot like, "I thought they /fixed/ your brain damage," and really, that could apply to either of the heavy hitters.

He deals with disagreement in simple fashion: he ignores it. As they crest the rise looking down over the DJD base, Rodimus gestures them to a brief standstill. A visor lowers from his helm with a faint tsch-chnk and settles into place. He studies the landing zone, then the base. Even at a distance, it's clear that the base is much more thickly populated by drones than the landing zone. "Looks like we might just be able to nip down there, grab the shuttles, and go." And that's a reasonable, straightforward plan! So of course he hesitates, sounding a lot like he'd rather do something else.

"So what're we waiting for? They've got our ship, we need the ship to get off, we go get our ship." Grimlock crosses his arms over his chest and scowls. LET'S GO. CHOMP CHOMP, RODIMUS.

Blast Off's look of cool disdain grows even colder as Fortress Maximus holds onto grudges and suggests he is untrustworthy. The Combaticon looks to Rodimus, waiting for his answer... and gets none. HUFF. He's left to speak up in his own defense. Again. "The Decepticons who agreed to come along on this trip are NOT prisoners. We are equals and I expect to be treated as such!"

Looking to Rodimus and Grimlock, the shuttleformer adds, "I agree with the Dinobot." (Amazing.) "Let's sneak in as close as we can- and if we are spotted, we use some fighters to distract the drones and allow someone else to get onboard and start the ships so all may leave."

Maximus folds his arms across his chest, again ignoring the name correction. "Well you -should- be. -All- of you should be." he shoots back at Blast Off's assertion that the Decepticons on the Lost Light are not prisoners.

But that's a conversation for another time. Right now there is the pressing concern of the DJD and the fact that they have stolen their ships. And the fact that this plan that Rodimus is proposing sounds like an -awful- one that involves walking right into a trap. "I'm -sorry- to breach your containment field but have any of you considered the idea that the DJD might -want- you to do just that? Why would they want our ships? It's not as if they don't have their own. This is a -trap-."

"But their base is /right there/," says Rodimus with a vague note of longing. "How awesome would it be if I took them out, huh?" He's fairly dazzled with the imaginary accolades he would receive for his heroics. "The worst of the worst. Psychopaths even among psychopaths." No offense, Blast Off.

It's Fort Max that decides him in favor of it: "Yeah, okay, fine," he says with a long sigh. "We'll go the easy way, then. Arm up. We're hitting the landing zone." Just because Fort Max decided him doesn't mean that Rodimus is listening to him. "It is kind of weird. I don't see them at all down there, though." He retracts his visor, eyes bright and clear. "And if it is a trap, we'll surprise them by springing it and turn it around on them." It's the kind logic that /shouldn't/ work -- but where Rodimus is concerned, somehow it seems to work out more often than not.

Rodimus waits just a beat for the others to get their guns ready, then charges for the drones gathered by the ships with the call of, "Til all are one!"

"You could not possibly take them out." Grimlock is not even judging, Rodimus. It is just factual. "You know, going in thinking it might be a trap doesn't actually help if it's a trap," he points out to the fearless leader. But then it's time to have fun!! So he stomps off in the direction of said fun, making the shift from bot to dinosaur in the space of a few long-legged strides. RAWR.

It's really not easy being the lone Decepticon among a bunch of Autobots. Blast Off glares at Maximus but decides to say nothing, instead sticking his nose up like he smells something bad. Though the large Autobot does have a point and the Combaticon glances down again towards the ships, looking for anything amiss. He admits, "...The DJD are many things, but not stupid." Then Rodimus decides they're all GOING TO CHARGE IN anyway and the shuttleformer shoots him a sharp look. "What? Just charge in? Why not use some subtely, some quie-" Oh smelt it all, they're not going to listen to him anyway. With a sigh, he brings out his ionic blaster and charges down... but for once he stays on the ground with the rest of them. He's not bringing any more attention to himself than he has to.

Grimlock nails it again. The Dinobot is just so wonderfully blunt. Like Fortress Maximus. He's right again. And yet, Hot Rod just goes charging right in like an idiot. Maximus sighs, shaking his head. How has this glitchead not already gotten his entire team killed? No, the DJD are not stupid, but apparently Hot Rod is. "Primus, you're going to get us all killed." He transforms and drives after Rodimus, certain that this is a trap of some sort.


Wait, no. That is exactly what doesn't happen. Seriously. There's not so much as a flicker of the lights inside to suggest one of the DJD is peering at them from behind their sadistic evil torture blinds. In fact, as the Autobots (and Blast Off) sweep toward the landing pad, it becomes rapidly clear that the base shows signs of forced entry, and that the drones are just ... walking over a door ripped off its hinges as they shuffle around. They appear to be removing boxes from the interior.

No time to care about that, though! Because when they hit the landing pad to deal with the drones around the ship, it's a pure fight, and Rodimus leads with a shot that takes the head clean off the first of the drones to turn toward him. The low murmur of what almost sounds like conversation at a distance resolves to a soft chanting of numbers. With their arrival, the numbers change.

"Yeah I can count too!" Grimlock roars as he stomps, dinosaur-huge, into the fray. "One!" His jaws close on a drone, teeth chomping down until it goes limp and crushed, at which point he tosses it aside. "Two!" This one gets stomped beneath one giant foot. "Three!" He leaps bodily on top of another to crush his claws past its metal frame. And so on and so forth. Grimlock can, indeed, count.

Blast Off darts in, keeping at least some distance between himself and the Autobots .. at least until the drone numbers increase and he's suddenly faced with a lot of enemies there on the ground with him. Closer inspection of the DJD HQ suggests they *might* not even be home, so the Combaticon finally decides enough is enough and he shoots up into the air. Ahhh, much better. Transforming, he's back in shuttle mode and lasering drones left and right.

"Hm, deserted." Maximus notes the broken door. Just whose drones are these, anyway? He frowns, meleeing down as many of the drones as he can, since he didn't exactly wake up with a gun on hand. "You know if I had a gun this might be a bit easier." Also suddenly and unexpectedly murdering Blast Off might become easier in that case, too.

But Blast Off is not the only con among Autobots! Slugfest scampers behind the others, as if he'd been tailing along the whole time, getting his nose into things here and there along the way, but always scampering enough to keep up so he can keep the group in sight. Now he scampers up to help Blast Off fight drones!

"Complain less, smash more," Rodimus calls with a laugh. He is a little more shoot than smash, himself, but what can you do: he's no Grimlock, no Fortress Maximus. He clears his way to the loading ramp of the first ship, then glances between the others somewhat uncertainly. He hesitates, then calls, "Grimlock! Can you get that other ship back?" He's paying less than zero attention to the base: all of his attention is focused on getting to the ships and getting them clear.

"I'm gonna fly it!" Grimlock cackles. It's possibly a warning. It's possibly a threat. He lowers his nose and kind of uses it as a wedge to charge through the crowd of drones between him and the second shuttle. BEEP BEEP.

Blast Off continues soaring above the rest in shuttle mode, still half-tempted to rocket out of there, but no he'll stay and fight. At least it's satisfying to shoot down one mindless drone after another. He will provide cover fire for Slugfest but otherwise doesn't really do much to help any of the Autobots except for the shooting gallery demonstration he's currently engaged in. Oh, and by the way? Any ship Grimlock plans to fly? COUNT HIM OUT.

Slugfest runs around, whirring his chainsaws, and serially maiming mindless drones' legs in a straight line!

Sure, let -Grimlock- fly the ship. That's a -great- idea. Maximus grumbles to himself, but realizes it's pointless to argue with Hot Rod. "If he's flying it, I'm not riding in it."

"Just taking it back to the medical facility, Grimlock," Rodimus calls to the others. He pauses, looking around for something else to shoot -- but the drones are either dead, or busy at the base. He hesitates, considering the open doorway again, the shrugs and deactivates his guns. "Any sign of activity?" he comms up to Blast Off.

It's a negative, by the way, other than the drones. The DJD are gonna be PISSED when they get back, though. Their place is a mess.

"Flyin' it /all the way back/," Grimlock declares/warns/threats. The drones require a few more chomps and stomps before he's through with them enough to storm the shuttle and take his rightful place as ruler of all. In the shuttle.

Blast Off finishes shooting his share of drones, then responds, << No, it appears to be all clear now. >> With that, he transforms and comes flying down to land near the others, blaster still out in case they have a surprise attack.

Fort Max stares at the open entry to the base. "If no one is here, then who stole the ships? The drones?" What were they after? "Maybe they're remote-controlled." Whoever they belong to is after something in there, no doubt. "Shouldn't we investigate?" Whatever automated security they must have had, the drones must have taken it out already.

"/Medical, Grimlock/." Rodimus pauses, then trots out his best threat: "Or you can deal with Ratchet." He jogs into the second ship to sling himself down in the pilot's chair and start the ship up for the run over to the Delphi medical facility. He laughs at Fort Max, throwing his earlier words back at him in a tease: "Considered that they might want you to do that? Could be a trap!" --just kidding. "We'll send a team back to check it out later. Get on if you're going!" he calls out.

Ugh. Rodimus is the worst. Fine Grimlock will fly the shuttle to ~medical~ and not off to have space adventures. DREAM CRUSHER.

Blast Off always feels weird getting onto ANOTHER ship. It's a little like riding inside yourself. And for a moment he deliberates just blasting off and meeting them back at the Lost Light... but maybe it's better to just get on board. So that's what he does, still trying to keep some distance between Maximus and himself. And all the Autobots. Though he does board the ship with Rodmius, since he seems at least the *less* likely of the bunch to try shooting him.

Maximus glares at Rodimus' comeback. What an idiot. And now he just can't help but shoot back with a comeback of his own. "Right, of course commander. We'll send someone -else- into the trap instead of us. Someone else more -expendable-. Why didn't -I- think of that?" he replies wryly.

He hestitates a moment before following him onto the craft. Does he -actually- want to follow these crazy people into space? Not really, but he doesn't exactly want to stay here on Messatine where the DJD clearly has a sizeable base. So he finally boards anyway.

But now that the fighting is over, he once again badgers Rodimus about his decisons. "So tell me again, -Hot Rod-, why you've allowed -Decepticons- to join your crew? Why you've made the mistake of trusting them and accepting them as your own?" Another death glare is sent Blast Off's way.

Rodimus is surprisingly cool in his reply at he sets the ship to return to Delphi: "Explaining again and again won't change the answers to something you like better. A lot has changed, Max. You've got to adjust, or you'll be left behind."

The rest of it he ignores. The words don't slip from Rodimus's shoulders without leaving a mark, but their mark is subtle in the taut lines of his posture and the hardness of his jaw.

The cold white of the planet slips beneath them. The DJD facility and the strange drones vanish in their wake. It's going to be a long ride.

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