Joined: Mar 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 11 Location: Some wannabe city on Mars :p Karma: 2
Out of the Frying Pan ... « Thread Started on Mar 18, 2009, 11:04pm »
Rusti descreetly followed Rimline, Crosshatch and Patcher into medbay. Leaning against a dark corner, she watched as the outpost medic raced to the alien robot's aid. Ouncez's voice clamoured over the loudspeakers, demanding action to defend the 'city'.
"Get that thing to shut up!" Interior, the outpost medic shouted to his assistant.
Never one to waste words, movement or time, Rimline produced his gun and shot the loudspeaker. His fellow Autobots stared at him, mortified.
Rusti rolled her eyes. Her guardian, Spike, told her much about the Decepticons but from what she often saw, some Autobots weren't much mild in temperment than many Decepticons. She settled quietly as Interior and his collegues worked in a steady pace. A time or two their patient squirmed and fought sedation.
Joined: Mar 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 11 Location: Some wannabe city on Mars :p Karma: 2
Re: Out of the Frying Pan ... « Reply #1 on Mar 18, 2009, 11:38pm »
Rusti's eyes shot wide open as if the wider her pupils grew, the easier to penetrate the absolute darkness. Interior spat and hissed as he slammed tools onto the tray next to him. "Get that damned door open," he ordered his assistants. "Amp, this is Interior, what the frying pitt is going on out there? I got a patient in here-Amp? Do you read me? Amp? A-damn. what's taking you two so long? get that damned door open!"
"Sorry!" Patcher snarled. "The doors weren't designed to be broken into, you know!"
"Eh, move aside!" Rimline barked. He pushed his coworker over and changed the charge on his weapon.
"No!" Interior called, "Do NOT blast that thing in-"
BOOOM!!!
Faint light from corridor windows shed into the repair bay. Interior grabbed Rimline by the neck. "If you fire your weapon in here one mroe time I'm writing you up! Got that!?"
"whatever," Rim shrugged.
The whole Outpost shuddered and even inside the 'city', encased between solid metal walls, all occupants in the room heard the distinct scream of an object falling through the sky. A terrific thunder preceeded a firestorm shockwave. windows rattled adn the walls shuddered.
Rusti cringed and crouched completely down, covering her head. She waited as silence followed the explosion. One minute turned into five. Rusti dared a peek while the Autobot medic and his goofy assistants recovered from surprise.
"Hey!" Crosshatch called, "what are you doing in here? This is a restricted area!"
He stared hard at her but unfazed, Rusti stood tall, defiant. "Yeah, but it's not very often I find someone who's in more trouble than me."
Rimline put his gun back and peered down the corridor. "Ah, leave her, Cross. She's not hurting anything."
Rusti gasped and tried to warn the medics when the alien robot sat up and activated his optics.
Joined: Mar 2009 Gender: Male Posts: 33 Location: Stuck on Mars Karma: 5
Re: Out of the Frying Pan ... « Reply #2 on Mar 21, 2009, 1:23am »
The human child’s warning did come too late, the outpost medic spun around back to the medical berth. The sedated black mech had indeed aroused to a slight more than semiconscious state, not entirely aware of were he was. All round him the walls and ceiling rattled from continuous detonations adding more bewilderment to his current mindset. Another shockwave shook through the med bay again, worst then any of the previous ones; causing Ronin to roll over the side of his berth, tearing away tubes and wires connected to medical equipment and fluid drips.
Landing in a heap on the cold metal floor, Ronin gasped laboriously as his body protested the jolting movement off the medical berth. Slumped against the berth’s main support in a pool of spilled energon and fluids, the battered flyer convulsed suddenly, arching his back. Hearing, rather than seeing, his pained struggle, Interior and Crosshatch rushed to his aid, leaving the other two medics by the doors in shock with Rusti.
Ronin caught a glimpse of two blurry figures approaching him. Reacting purely on instinct, he phased in his energy blade and with a swift swoosh held it in a quivering hand between him and advancing mechs. The Autobot medics halted abruptly at the glowing blade, casting a deep blue radiance across the dark room.
“Sta.y..b.bac.k,” came his hoarse voice finally, heavily laden from the sedatives.
He attempted to shift his weight onto his good leg, when he suddenly convulsed again harder and dropping his energy blade. Ronin violently coughed up half-processed energon onto the floor while supporting his upper body with one arm and wrapping the other around his abdomen. In his groggy mind, he knew something wasn’t right. His energon convertor was burning and air take cycles were becoming shorter and shorter.
His dim optics focused enough to make out red crosses on their shoulders, he distressingly asked, “w.wh.at..did..u..yo.u.give..me?”
Not waiting for a reply, Ronin, gritting his jaws, reached for small and secure subspace pocket at his side; withdrawing a small vial. He stretched out his quavering hand with the vial toward the medics. A spasmodic tremor relaxed his grip on the vial; his convulsing body collapsed onto the floor and Ronin faded into unconsciousness.
The vial, unharmed, rolled gently from his limp hand to the medic’s feet.
_________________________________________
Note: Altarians share a similar physiology with Cybertronians, but their bodies arent' always compatible with the same treatment used for Autobots and Decepticons. In some cases, there can be a dangerous reaction. The vial contains a strong pain inhibitor and advanced nano drones that travel through out the body, once injected, neutralizing harmful substances and assist in speeding up normal repair functions. It is only to be used in extreme emergencies.
"I'm the mech next door, I'm the stranger in passing, I'm the one with a gun a pointed at you, I'm the one protecting you in laser fire, I'm no one, for I don't know myself."
Joined: Mar 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 11 Location: Some wannabe city on Mars :p Karma: 2
Re: Out of the Frying Pan ... « Reply #3 on Mar 24, 2009, 10:46pm »
"Hey, what is that?" Crosshatch aimed to pick up the doo-dad off the floor, but Interior swept it up faster than the assistant moved. "Get that bot back on the table-"
He no sooner said that than the clanking of feet and Ouncez's 'melodious voice' echoed down the corriordor, shouting orders into his external comlink.
Two Autobot scouts dragged another carcass into the room and dropped it next to Ronin's table. Interior slammed his fists on the examination table and pasted a snarl across his face. "What the smelt is this about?!"
"That!" Ouncez pointed. "I want to know what it is!"
"NOT NOW!"
Ouncez, never appreciating someone else telling him what to do, silently seethed while he struggled to count backwards internally using an ancient, difficult-to-pronounce numerical system. He watched as his bossy, independant medic scanned the vial and tried to determin its use.
Meanwhile, Patcher leaned over the crumpled, burnt wreck and shook his head, indicating whatever it was, was beyond hope or repair.
"Ah-hah!" Interior declared. He applied the vial to their unknown survivor guest and--
Joined: Mar 2009 Gender: Male Posts: 33 Location: Stuck on Mars Karma: 5
Re: Out of the Frying Pan ... « Reply #4 on Mar 24, 2009, 11:22pm »
- after several minutes of a pin-dropping silence, a steady beat of the mech's spark was registering on the pulse monitors. Ronin groaned quietly as his optics began glowing dimly after his near shut down from a sedative reaction. He felt his automatic repairs operating more smoothly and picking up pace in their task.
He suddenly realized there were WAY more transformers present within the room than previously. But then again he could have been mistaken at the time, since he had been far from being in his right mind.
Seeing the patient awake, Interior hustled over to Ronin's shattered leg and resumed clamping broken fluid lines and welding broken struts back into position. The outpost medic noticed him flinch, when gave a hard tug on one component.
“The substance in the vial did it contain any pain inhibitor compounds?” He asked professionally.
Optics shut tight, Ronin nodded and muttered, “Yes, but only temporarily.”
As Interior focused back on the leg, Ronin’s head fell to the side watching the other Autobots milling around a corpse on the next berth. One Autobot in particular was staring accusingly at the black and silver flier.
Ronin was use to individuals giving him odd looks, but he hated those that stared him right in the eye.
“What are you staring at, ugly?” He stated bluntly, unaware he was addressing the Outpost Commander.
"I'm the mech next door, I'm the stranger in passing, I'm the one with a gun a pointed at you, I'm the one protecting you in laser fire, I'm no one, for I don't know myself."
Joined: Mar 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 11 Location: Some wannabe city on Mars :p Karma: 2
Re: Out of the Frying Pan ... « Reply #5 on Mar 24, 2009, 11:29pm »
Ouncez shot to his feet from squatting over the wreckage and rested the barrel of his weapon against Ronin's temple. "I THINK it's an intruder; an alien intruder who has a temper and a problem with xenophobia-a bad wit and a poor marksman's record." Ouncez zeroed in on Ronin's face. "And Mars is off limits. Nobody comes. Nobody goes. I can do one of two things with you, Xenophobe: I can take you outside my city and waste what's left of your carcass-with or without my doctor's divine permission. OR I can toss you in the brig and stand on the other side of the energon bars and make faces at you all day long while you ATTEMPT to plead your case."
A very small voice came from the far corner of the room; a voice that did not belong anywhere near the medic wing: "And then Rodimus will eat someone for lunch."
Ouncez's weapon slid from Ronin to the corner, his optics hot with irritation. "YOU! You were confined to quarters! What the slag are you DOING here?!"
But it was Interior who got the commander's attention with another pound on the flat. "What the bleeding pitt is WRONG with you, Ouncez? Put that damned weapon AWAY or I'll REPORT YOUR AFT!"
The medic and his commander glared across the table over the alien prisoner. In any other situation, it would have been funny. But Ronin did not find it amusing, nor did the outpost commander. He stowed his gun back into subspace, snarled silently at the medic and turned to his helpers: "Shavex, Wryler, take Mr. Unknown here into the brig-the furtherest one from the upper level. That way I MIGHT be able to forget about him." Ouncez took two steps toward the doorway. "Your ward, Doctor. I hope you'll see to it the girl is ... returned."
Interior merely froze his optics on his beligerant commander and did and said nothing until Ouncez was off the floor.
Joined: Mar 2009 Gender: Male Posts: 33 Location: Stuck on Mars Karma: 5
Re: Out of the Frying Pan ... « Reply #6 on Mar 25, 2009, 12:03am »
Ronin wanted to strangle him. Forget restraint. Forget about maintaining a healthy relationship with the Autobots, he WANTED to slag Ouncez. The assassin side of him shook with slight glee; a giddy assassin was far scarier than an emotionless assassin.
He didn’t register the argument between medic and commander regarding him. Ronin merely broiled at the insolent insult to his marksmanship.
Frankly, the Outpost commander was unfortunately fortunate that Ronin’s more powerful weapons were gone or offline. However, he still had a few rounds left in his head turret cannons…
Against any common sense, the black mech rotated one turret to the back of the retreating commander. Before Shavex and Wryler could react, Ronin shot off a round and buzzed the top crest of Ouncez’s rather broad head.
The two Autobot scouts tackled him, shoving him off the table once again, and landing in a mangle heap of limbs and weapons drawn.
Interior shouted indignantly, “HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY IT? STOP FIRING IN MY REPAIRBAY, NO EXCEPTIONS!”
Ouncez spun around, one hand feeling the top of his helm detecting the shallow groove left from the bullet.
Buried under the pile, Ronin said muffled, “Don’t think I missed scrapheap and for the record I’m not with that burnt caress over there.”
"I'm the mech next door, I'm the stranger in passing, I'm the one with a gun a pointed at you, I'm the one protecting you in laser fire, I'm no one, for I don't know myself."
Joined: Mar 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 11 Location: Some wannabe city on Mars :p Karma: 2
Re: Out of the Frying Pan ... « Reply #7 on Mar 25, 2009, 12:24am »
They shackled poor Ronin and dragged him three levels down. Rusti was sent to her quarters-and locked in so that all she could do was lie on her bed in near-starved boredom.
Outside, Autobots busied cleaning and repairing the damaged outpost and its shields. The Clones were sent to and from several other wreck piles dotting the landscape. Their origins remained undetermined, but the mystery did nothing to improve Ouncez's dark mood.
He assigned a rescue team to investigate the missing mining team, now four days late in reporting.
And then Interior submitted a report on the poor alien robot. Rather than read the report himself, Ouncez fumed that he had been reminded of the alien prisoner, which he had blissfully forgotten for a total of six days. His assistant-turned-communications-officer, Tonze, had to keep shorting his vocalizer to keep from saying something that would get him fired-or worse-vaporized. His own mood turned downward when his superior officer turned to him, a face filled with rage that needed an outlet. "So what do you suppose I'm supposed to do with that clownoid down in level three brig?"
Tonze chose his words with great care: "Are you talking about that fellow named 'Ronin', sir?"
Ouncez flashed his optics adn rather than answer, he transformed into ATV mode and zipped level to level to the annoyingly living intruder. Ouncez very well could have just used the elevator, but he hoped burning fuel would help burn the anger so he could get a bit of perspective. it almost worked, but for Ronin's cool tempered expression. Ouncez would have perferred an angry opponent to give him an execuse to blow him away. instead, Ronin's chilled exterior only made the outpost commander that much angrier.
"Well!" Ouncez shot a glare at the alien robot. "Much to my personal consternation you're still here, and in one piece. And worse yet, you're still here at all. And now I have to deal with you. And because SOMEHOW, the whole outpost knows you're here, I'm being forced to report this incident to Rodimus Prime. Who, naturally, will be sorely displeased. Ergo, I'm being forced to stand here while you tell me your side of the story so I can determin whether or not I should just blow you away."
Joined: Mar 2009 Gender: Male Posts: 33 Location: Stuck on Mars Karma: 5
Re: Out of the Frying Pan ... « Reply #8 on Apr 1, 2009, 7:54pm »
At the sound of ranting and raving voice, Ronin flopped his helm lazily toward the energy bars, while resting on his cell berth.
In a sweetly-mocking tone, “Oh, poor baby, is the job getting too tough for you?”
Bracing his feet on the hard metal floor, he stood and approached the energy bars separating the two mechs. Only a pronounced limp remained evident of his previous injuries.
“Want to switch places? The view of this side of the bars is SO much more glamorous. Even better yet, no one to bother Mr. I-got-a-titanium-pole-up-my-skidplate, which I would be more than happy to yank out and hit you over the head with if it tuned down your jerk factor by a power of ten.”
The black and silver flyer cooled his own irritation a degree as he finished his first round at verbal ball. However, the fury in the outpost commander’s optics caused Ronin’s temper to flare up again and stealing the ball for another round.
“You’re FORCED to be here?!? THAT’S NOTHING! Try being forced to standby useless as your friend is held hostage and kidnapped by unidentified assailants! THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED! You can even contact whoever-the-slag is the City Commander of Metroplex to verify what I just said. I was following the stolen freighter ship carrying them from Earth, when they where joined with eight heavily armored ships- yes, there were others- and the group split. The group with the stolen freighter jumped before I could catch up and then I came here after the other ships, when I got shot in the aft by a fraggin ion cannon!”
Ronin reached through the bars, grabbed Ouncez by the front of his neckguard, and brought his face close to the humming energy, inches away from Ronin’s piercing white optics.
“I don’t know what they wanted with this dirt ball and frankly I don’t care. All I know is that the information I need to find where they took my friend is somewhere among that wreckage, but instead I’ve been FORCED to sit here on my aft for the past six days, requesting over and over for the fraggin slagger in charge here to get off his royal skidplate and get down here, so I could explained to him what I know!
He released his grip on Ouncez and shoved him backwards.
“Now, does that answer your question?” Ronin stated blankly.
_________________________________
Well, that took me long enough to do.
I almost couldn't keep a straight face writing the first part. ^_^
"I'm the mech next door, I'm the stranger in passing, I'm the one with a gun a pointed at you, I'm the one protecting you in laser fire, I'm no one, for I don't know myself."
Joined: Mar 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 11 Location: Some wannabe city on Mars :p Karma: 2
Re: Out of the Frying Pan ... « Reply #9 on Apr 4, 2009, 10:27pm »
Ouncez raised his chin like an arrogant peacock. He was not willing to let Ronin see how embarrassed he was regarding the information; especially since it entailed something with Metroplex. He nodded more to himself. "Metroplex, huh? Alright, foreigner, I'll do just that. I'll give them a phone call, a status report and an incident report. But let me reiterate: if they dont' mention you or know what the pitt you're talking about, I'll take that as permission to haul your cheap chassis outside the outpost and blow you away. Got it? Now, I got other things to do-oh, and I *do* hope you enjoy your stay, foreigner. Because you are not exactly at the top of my list of priorities."
Ouncez grinned and walked off like some sleezy modle strutting down the dias at some show. The alien robot might be clever, showing off with a reasonable vocabulary, but Ouncez was in charge.
Ouncez returned to central command where the repair crew struggled to realign communications and power systems throughout the base. Fastlane zipped between central command and the repair crews slaving outside in the freezing Martian night air. The base's wall along the eastern side facing the Arabia/Terra plateau smouldered with plasma ruptures, weakening the forcefield.
Ouncez wished someone would bring in the party or parties responsible for the breach just so he could either slap them silly or dessimate their self-worth with a verbal assault.
That thought led to another: "Tonze, any reports from our crews out at Kasei Valles?"
"Negatory, Boss. We've been on a com-channel death since the aliens hit us."
Ouncez weighed his options. He HAD to get communications up and running even before they could investigate their missing miners. But the base was a mess; shields down, intruder carcasses in medbay, an annoying an uncooperative prisoner in the brink -whom Ouncez would perfer to forget. And no ability to communicate with Autobot base on Earth for at least another 63 Earth hours.
"Alright," he decided, "Fastlane, put together a search party. Tonze, I want you to rig a long-distance commline between us and the party, soemthing that will by-pass the current static channels here in command. And call in Rox, she'll take charge here while I head out and work with repair crews. We need those shields up and running!"
Fastlane stared at his commanding officer with concern. A search party was a good idea, except he really did not know who to gather.
Joined: Mar 2009 Gender: Male Posts: 33 Location: Stuck on Mars Karma: 5
Re: Out of the Frying Pan ... « Reply #10 on Apr 8, 2009, 11:52pm »
Certain that the pigoid-headed oaf had left for sure, Ronin slouched wearily onto his cell bunk. He gingerly maneuvered his throbbing leg into a stretched out position to ease the dull ache.
The confrontation had taken a bigger toll on him then he had anticipated or cared to admit. Ronin admonished himself for losing his self-control, but the overall stress of the situation and his injuries had thrown him off balance. In fact, it took all his control he did have to keep a tight reign on his more engrained tendencies.
In a way, Ronin was grateful for the isolation of his cell. He didn’t have to keep his guard up constantly while his body slowly healed. The black flyer could easily ignore the occasional visits by the outpost medic, with armed guard of course, checking his recovery status and leaving an energon ration.
During the previous six days, Ronin restlessly waited in his cell and forced down the unaccustomed feeling of anxiety over Cha’delk’s safety and whereabouts. The space fighter reminded himself he was in no state to help his employer.
The black and silver mech initiated a self-diagnosis program for his flight programs and operations. Ronin gritted his dental plates in frustration. From the repair estimates on his visual readouts, his body could only perform short-distance flights.
Space flight wasn’t an option.
Ronin furiously slammed his fist against the helpless cell wall. Clang! A hollow resounding echo was heard in answer. An idea flooded his tired mind, clearing away the fatigue. Holding a figurative breath, Ronin activated a seldom used feature of his visor to scan the wall beside him.
Seconds passed. The scanned imagine slid into his view. He was right.
There was a sizeable cave on the other side.
Escape plan firmly in mind, Ronin eased his body back down onto the bunk, intent on recharging to help the auto repairs along. As he drifted off, his hand habitually figured the energy blade at his side, which he managed to covertly retrieve after he was tackled to the floor in the medbay.
Only another day or so would he need to wait. Then he would be out of here.
"I'm the mech next door, I'm the stranger in passing, I'm the one with a gun a pointed at you, I'm the one protecting you in laser fire, I'm no one, for I don't know myself."
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