The Bad News Comes A-Knocking [Endy, Thunder, Carbine]

[Deleted]

//ooc// Takes place Week 2, Day 7.

They were avoiding him.

Buffalo Dump stood tall over the lip of the canyon, staring down with harsh optics at the operation below. Though kept tight to his plates to avoid disturbing the workers, his field was tense, anxious, and rippling with impatience; he didn't want another Energon assignment as long as he lived. Still fresh in his head was the encounter with Wheeljack — Wheeljack, of all the Primus-fragging Autobranders out there — and the flooded mine he'd nearly lost his mind in. B-Dump's optic still burned a little, and it worsened at the thought of what had gone on.

The Vehicons were avoiding him, and they had good reason to. Like shy cybercats, they had waited to see if he was safe, then let him approach and mingle with them; his actions had made that slip away. Buffalo Dump ex-vented harshly, the forks on his back twitching where they rested. He had proven dangerous, unstable, and angry — and how was that different from Megatron?

::Endymion, report,:: the garbage mech comm.ed sharply, eyes scanning the below for any sign of the Dodge-moded grounder. He'd told the nav-mech to scout around for any signs of humans or Autobranders — most of MECH's operations had been in North America, and the continent's deserts were the Prime's stomping grounds. The mine was also close to something called "the Grand Canyon", and it was a popular place for organics to visit; the last thing he needed were stragglers finding the operation. B-Dump had no issue with humanity, and was happy to leave them alone — this also included not squishing them indiscriminately, unlike what some of his comrades found perfectly acceptable to do.

Buffalo Dump gave a tense snort, looking up at the sky. There were only a few, straggling clouds, mostly swirling cirrus and nothing more; he hoped it wouldn't rain. Even if it was just a few days without rain, he would be happy, because the sound and sight of it would remind him of the other mine at that point. He ground his denta in frustration, and flexed his servos with another glance at the canyon bottom.

::...See anything interesting?:: the big mech added as a afterthought, his tone lighter and more conversational than the previous request's had been.

[Deleted]

He'd been desperate to get off-ship, but maybe not this desperate. He honestly thought the assignment was boring, but he didn't dare bring that up to Buffalo Dump; he'd picked up on the mech's tense field, and for once he thought that speaking his mind might offend another. He suspected B-Dump's reaction to the assignment may have something to do with the condition he found the other mech in a week prior, but he made no moves to bring that up. Some things deserved to stay behind them.

Endymion had taken scouting duty with great enthusiasm, as at first he'd assumed it would simply be a long day of watching the mines. Despite being on Earth for longer period of time than others, the sheen around observing the organics hadn't quite faded yet. Not to mention, he rather enjoyed cruising about in his alt-form, ever so gracefully-

Frag, something was up with Buffalo Dump today. He wasn't used to the sharp tone coming from him, as most of their communications had been openly friendly. Soft, even, in a sense. ::I'm not noting anything of interest on my end, Boss.:: He wasn't openly sarcastic, but his voice did have a slight punch to it in response. As this was their first time working together, he didn't want to completely destroy their comradery, but he didn't want to establish a power dynamic between them either. He let the silence hang, before chuckling internally at the next transmission.

::Dirt, a lot of dirt. Still can't figure out this obsession these organics have with crevices in the ground, but whatever, they ain't bothering me today. He spoke back, referring to the affection there tended to be toward the 'Grand Canyon' located nearby. He scanned briefly for nearby objects, before quickly pulling a u-ie on the road he was currently careening down, laughing to himself at the whip-like action he performed in order to make such a quick turn. ::I think I'm gonna head back, all I'm doin' is burning rubber down here..:: As if to prove a point, he accelerated considerably toward B-Dump's position, craving the way it felt to fight the incline up to him. ::I'm sure you've got a much nicer view, anyway.::

[Carbine]

Earth was... so odd looking...

The easily recognizable sound of a helicopter cut out over the vast wilderness, echoing with haunting reverberations through the rocky terrain of the area. This part of the world was so... surreal to the disgraced cop, his unseen eyes taking in everything that flicked below him cautiously as he was flying just shy of his max speed.

Grey rock in large slate like slabs, brown stone that created almost round slick surfaces, the occasional cut of vibrant green that sliced through the area like an infection, and then the crevices and grooves that were like open wounds. The biggest? Of course being the so called 'grand' canyon itself, that plunged down at an alarming angle down into the ravine below. This plunge? Was unnerving to the copter, who always had known to 'fly' with his Cybertronian hover form, by 'bouncing' thrusters or magnetic forces against solid surfaces. Because of this? When he flew to cut over this ravine? When his eyes settled on the fact the ground below him suddenly dipped away into vast openness he had never had to face before?

He panicked a moment.

Carbine had just recently learned how to fly, the entire ordeal... interesting... with a lack of a fitting term that wasn't humiliating. It had taken some time, and even now? He was not a hundred percent confident with what was happening when he was airborn. He flew lower to the ground than was probably wise, and he didn’t floor his speeds as much as he was capable of doing. This left the black and white police copter cutting near the earth over top all of the odd landscapes around the fifteen to twenty foot mark, probably scaring a lot of wildlife in the process.

As such, when he flew over the drop off point? Static pops of 'oh frag' and other colorful curses spat out, as he veered off back to the edge, his rotors hooking at a sharp angle to violently wrench his frame over to the so called safety of the ledge. Forget that he would not have FALLEN into the canyon, forget that he had been safe and his own lurch probably hurt more than just continuing on, even forget the fact he realized he was stupid after the moment, as it had been an instinctive response. He KNEW Thunder was going to laugh him out of he saw it, but Carbine just hoped the poor jet was having to bank another circle because of the helicopters significantly slower speed.

::Ok so... There's an Energon sig-?s?-?s?ig-beacon out here or... what now?::

Carbine asked Thunder through a comm, it relying on just verbal words alone, and no glyphs or data thrown in. If any data had been attached? It would be nonsensical and would need to be disregarded fully as it was not intended in any way. Nonetheless, the Convicts had been sent out on an Energon check, a signal having popped up to the base's notice. Carbine thought he remembered it being something something... make sure it isn't heavily guarded... probably to see if it was tactically smart bla de bla whatever the crap Optimus was saying, the Copter just tuned it out knowing Thunder had to have paid better attention right?...

Riighhhtt....

Through the bond, Bolo was squirming happily, his keen sense of sight locked down on the ground that flickered past like a flipbook. Occasionally the canine would see something and bark out in frantic squeals, though the sound was internalized. None outside of the spark link would be able to hear the dog absolutely flipping out when he saw a herd of peccary that were scrambling through the shrubbery to get away from the noisy machine. It was probably for the best, as only Carbine would be able to tune out THAT noise, and a barking helicopter? Was not exactly... normal... for humans...

It was then the ex-cop looked up ahead, seeing sparse roads that wove like veins through the wilderness, and the sign of a 'human', aka Endymion, peeling rubber on a direct route to someplace. Carbine didn't really pay it much heed, not too concerned if a human saw him. They'd probably think it was a search and rescue attempt due to the black and white paint job and the big white 'Police' on his side. Because of this, he didn't look longer than a moment, attention pulled back as he thought he heard that distant rumble of Thunder making another pass. Carbine's full attention went to stabilizing his frame, and looking up, unknowingly flying the same way as the hidden Decepticon towards the signal.

He just hoped Thunder didn’t cut close enough it disrupted his flying again...

...Fragger

[Deleted]

Thundercloud didn’t need much incentive to go out scouting for Energon. As boring as the task was, it gave him an excuse to stretch his wings and get out of the base for a while, granting him a welcomed reprieve from the stifling atmosphere of the missile silo they generously called an outpost. The place was too small and too dilapidated to be rightly called a proper base, as far as Thundercloud was concerned, but he wasn’t exactly in a position to complain (not that that stopped him from doing so anyway.) There wasn’t much else they could do but deal with the limited means they had, short of taking over a better place by force, but he had the feeling that idea would get shot down by majority vote - including his own. As much as he’d prefer to be living someplace more spacious and less confining, he didn’t particularly care to alienate the only allies they had on this Godforsaken dirtball in order to do it, and a hostile takeover of a military outpost prrroooobably wouldn’t sit well with Fowler and his government.

Killjoys.

So. That’s how Thundercloud found himself flying in literary circles, doing loops and rolls and generally just wasting his own time while following after Carbine while they searched for stray energon deposits. It was the only thing he could do to keep himself entertained, since he couldn’t risk flying low enough to the ground to streak past Carbine anymore - one or two passes had been the most he felt he could get away with without getting lectured by Fowler for flagrantly drawing attention to himself. Granted, it was unlikely there were any humans around who could spot him this far out, but still. It didn’t take a genius to figure out there was something suspicious about a giant military jet flying dangerously close to the ground in a prohibited airspace.

Hence why he had given up on harassing Carbine and, in his own words, started dicking around up in the clouds instead. So long as he was high up enough to be out of the average squishy’s line of sight, he figured he could do whatever he damn well pleased without having to worry about breaking the whole ‘disguise’ thing he was supposed to be paying mind to. As it turned out, “whatever he damn well pleased” mostly amounted to an obscene amount of barrel rolls and needless turns which made it appear as if he were riding an invisible roller coaster track though the sky.

He might have behaved himself a bit better had he not been so mind-numbingly bored.

They had been searching for...what, an hour or so now? And insofar their search had proven fruitless. Thundercloud, being on the cynic that he was, had doubted the likelihood of their finding an energon deposit right from the get go, and their continuous lack of results was only further reinforcing his conviction. He was just about to dismiss the mission as a lost cause, when Carbine commed him.

::Can’t tell this far up:: He replied, as he made a leisurely drop in both speed and altitude. ::Why don’t you go check it out, I’ll catch you up in a minute. Or I’ll be waiting for you. Depends how fast your slow ass gets there::

[Deleted]

::If ya think lookin' at a bunch o' dusty rocks is fun,:: B-Dump joked back, albeit still gruffly. Truth be told, he loved vistas like the one he viewed now — sprawling canyons of ruddy-brown, white and beige, all laid out beneath an electric-blue sky that was clearer than any on Cybertron. They wound and wove through the landscape like giant tunnel worms had carved them, though tunnel worms could not make anything nearly as pretty as the landscape was.

::Just keep your eye on the sky,:: Buffalo Dump added. ::Remember t'look up with your mirrors once in a while, younglin'. Primefraggers have wings too, much as they're likin' to ground-pound — ya don't wanna get blindsided. Would hate to see yer smart finish get all dinged up from a fraggin' jet like Skywarp.::

The comm. clicked back off, but only for a second.

::And, uh...don't be mentionin' I said that on the ship. He's a bloodthirsty piece o' work, he is; he don't need much excuse for tossin' grounders off the deck o' the ship. I think he already did that for fun t'the Vehicons...or maybe that was someone else, I dunno.::

He wasn't picking up anything on his end, and neither were the Vehicon patrols with him. So far, everything was going well — which made Buffalo Dump just a tad more nervous. In warfare, something eventually went wrong, to the point where it had to be expected.

[Deleted]

Endymion glided on the road with relative ease, exventing deeply as he did so. There was something about the feel of the ground beneath his tyres that was strangely addicting, or perhaps it was the way that roads on Earth were so varied. Like everything else of this planet, there were great variability in the roads; the white-and-yellow lines remained constant, but the conditions and the destinations of such roads were up to relative chance. He liked the bumps and turns that took him by response, and the way he accelerated in some sort of show of dominance over the terrain.

There was no such variability onboard the Nemesis. No, the halls remained the same, the faces he saw from time to time echoing one another in the endless repeat that made up the Decepticon nav. team. While he was mildly annoyed by the tingle of rocks hitting his matte paint job and the way dirt seemed to coat every inch of him whenever he was out here, there was something to be appreciated in being on the ground rather than in the air. He snorted in response to B-Dump's first transmission, inwardly agreeing with the other mech's sentiment.

Eyes on the sky, Buffalo Dump had said. It was honestly the last place he wanted to be looking right now; Endymion was enjoying the way the pavement met his hood, was devoured by his shadow and left behind him. He listened to his transmissions without much comment, mostly because in order to reply back he had to mute his internal audio systems (undoubtedly his processor was quaking from the self-induced suffering he was in due to a subwoofer that was a bit too loud), which would wrench him from his own version of 'zen', created inside of himself.

::I steer clear of him. Somethin' about the guy just.. throws me off. Mostly because he could easily be throwin' me off the ship, like you said.:: Endymion responded after his pause, tone more relaxed than it had been, despite the subject matter. He generally avoided Seekers. Their nature and the simple fact that they could terminate him with relative ease gave him enough reason to turn the other way in their presence.

Heeding Buffalo Dump's advice, the scout adjusted his mirrors upward, immediately focusing on a figure that appeared to be trailing him. Great. Enhancing the image, he quickly made the connection with the color scheme, noting that it was an organic law enforcement vehicle. GREAT.

::You know, it's really fraggin' funny when this planet's law enforcement decides to try to enforce their laws on me. I got ticketed last week for stunting; stunting! Really? And this ... afthat, seems to be trailing me and I'm probably going to get photo radar'd for speed by them for at least the fifth time. Anyway, I'm not sayin' that I have a bogey at six, but I might have a bogey at six.::

Endymion's tone of voice was exacerbated by this new presence as he scanned the road for the telltale radar lines, that were used to time and flash vehicles going over the speed limit. Recognizing that there were none, he accelerated toward Buffalo Dump's position, but kept an eye on the thing behind him. Speaking of the thing, he had yet to encounter one of these in steel and energon; he'd seen photos of such machines on the organic's 'world wide web' and perhaps observed them from afar, but that was the extent of his knowledge on the vehicle. The steady chopping sound of air disturbed him, and he grew more anxious to return to Buffalo Dump.

::I-I think it's fine, I mean, it'll just... float on over us..::

He chattered to B-Dump, voice gaining an edge to it, but not one of frustration or anger. Reassured by the absence of radar lines, Endymion floored it, peeling back to B-Dump's position in perhaps not the most elegant of fashions. He hugged the road, careening down its path as he grew nervous within the thing's gaze. He only allowed himself to ease up on the throttle when Buffalo Dump entered his sightlines. He slowed significantly, attempting to smooth over that momentary flare up, communicating quickly to his friend;

::Behind me. Check it out. Ain't seen one of those before.::

[Carbine]

::You can't tell!? Aren’t you the one with the coord-c-?co?r-?kzzt?-?numbers of where the signal is? Or did the dumbaft send it to me and I notice didn't k?z?z?t even?::

He spat this back, wanting so much to throw his hand up in an exacerbated and over exaggerated motion of frustration. However? Being in an alt mode? It rather negated such things, and he was forced to remain boring and bland with no visual signs of expression. This was like tying the hands of an overly expressive individual behind their back, and as such? It was a miracle Carbine could even formulate words without gestures and motions to accompany them.

While Thunder had the luxury of doing barrel rolls and treating the sky like a giant playground? Carbine was still too shaky on his abilities to comfortably even attempt anything flashy or dynamic. All he could imagine? Was trying to do a flip, and having the rotors snap, or the engine stall from stress, ending with him falling. He had already experienced one drop from a high altitude to the ground below, and he didn't really want to risk going through that living hell again.

That had ranked up there on one of the more scary experiences in his life.

It is because of this? He kept very low, and as such? Noted eventually that he and the vehicle were actually going the same direction. Carbine's unseen optics settled down on the sports car as he was drawing closer. Granted, it was still a speck on the thin line of a road in the distance, but he was cutting through the distance gradually with his speed. While he couldn't outrun Thunder? He could challenge many road vehicles to some extent.

::Hey, h?e?y Thunder, there's this little ?h-?h?-?hum?a?-native sentient wildlife down here all alone. I w-w?-o?n-?curious what the crap they are doing out here?::

He chuckled inwardly after he sent the comm, pushing forward with a new goal. Instead of aiming west along the rocky environment? He was now actually trying to cut the distance between himself and the human. He almost took it as a bit of a game to challenge him, work on his flying, and sate some of his 'chase' drive he had due to being an ex-cop. As such? The Helicopter cut forward, and raised a bit further off the ground, the swash plate tilting severely to heave his lighter frame.

::I should scare the slag out of it... s?creec?h t?he ?si?ren? or something::

Carbine's next laugh wasn't as internalized, sent though the comm as well with a bit of delight. But while this had all been fun and games for a moment? It was then the human accelerated, and that? Was a mistake. The cop in him made him a bit trigger happy with running goals. Fast movements? Lurching figures? His eye snaps down onto it like it is the only thing in the world that matters any longer, and all he wants to do? Is catch it.

Bolo's attention was also grabbed, pulled away from the wilderness, as he sensed a chase was going on through the link with his master. This caused the canine's consciousness to twist over and turn to 'look' the other direction with newfound interest. He focused in on the target, and was waiting expectantly for Carbine to disengage him so he could chase. However that wasn't the goal, Carbine had no intention of harming humans, just... catch up to them, maybe giving them a spook, all harmless good fun on his part.

The helicopter was much nearer now, its form roaring overhead with the heavy chopping of its rotors hacking through the air roughly. From here he could see the vehicles matte black paint job, and rather fancy looking frame. Carbine wasn't really skilled with knowing what was a spendy vehicle, or a cheap one in earth ideals, but to him? It looked really clean cut, too nice to be out in this wilderness like this. He got somewhat overhead of the object, about thirty feet in the air above its frame, and perhaps fifty to its right. He was just started to pass it, which sated his prey drive, and permitted him to look up and-

::F?R???AG?!?::

Much like when he had swooped and lurched when he went over the canyon? This same thing happened once more when he saw what lay ahead of him. There was a large frame of a mech standing at the edge of the rocky plunge down into a canyon, which held all the telltale signs of the mining operation chugging along below. It didn’t appear super big, but it was always hard to tell how much could be underground and out of sight. It didn’t matter though, Carbine not really getting more than a glance as he lurched painfully hard in a tight bank, trying to redirect momentum which ended up hooking him up into the air during the turn. He had thrown his back to the Decepticon a moment, a necessity during his evasion, but soon the tail boom swung around in a hatching motion to force him to square off but try to keep some serious distance so that if a gun was drawn he'd have time to veer off to the side and avoid..

::Condition IFO Mining, D?E?SC? GM?A Unk?n?o?w?n?!::

He completely disregarded the 'human' not thinking for a second 'hey maybe I should help the fleshlings' as he didn’t really care for them much as of yet. His focus? Was solely locked down onto the large root-mode formed Decepticon. Or Neutral... Probably Decepticon...

[Deleted]

Had he been in his bipedal mode, Thundercloud would have rolled his optics and made a lazy, obscene hand-gesture in Carbine’s general direction. Since he wasn’t and therefore couldn’t, he settled on revving his engines in displeasure instead. He loved the guy, but goddamn Carbine could be a pissy little glitch when the mood suited him.

He could already picture the mech throwing his arm out, gesturing wildly in an overly-dramatic show of frustration. Or, well, that’s how Thundercloud imaged he would have reacted if he actually had arms to gesticulate with at the moment. As it was, the mech probably just bobbed sharply or whirled his rotors faster or whatever the hell it was helicopters did when they were annoyed. Thundercloud had no idea, honestly.

He bet it was cute, though. Definitely something he could mock Carbine for, if he ever got the chance to actually catch him in the act.

Amusing as this thought was, however it did not hold his attention for long. Carbine was quick to report when he took notice of what appeared to be a human driving along the canyon beneath him, which put a bit of a damper on Thundercloud’s good spirits.

There was a squishy witness down there. Someone who would most certainly take notice if a massive Tomcat streaked across the sky overhead. Damn. Double damn. Fleshy bastard just had to make things complicated.

::Hell if I know:: He replied sourly, clearly displeased that he had to remain hidden and out of sight.

There was a short pause as a thought occurred to him, and when he spoke again a moment later, his tone was more wary than frustrated. ::...You sure it’s a human?::

He got his answer in the form of an abrupt curse, followed by a string of code-words which told him all he needed to know about the situation.

It looked like the found the source of the energon signal, and some company to boot. Lucky them.

::Well:: He replied dryly, sounding entirely unconcerned with the situation at hand. ::Sounds like they’re havin’ a party down there::

He cut through the clouds, his altitude dropping dramatically as he flew down and out of the stratosphere, intent on meeting up with Carbine once more.

::I say we crash it::

[Deleted]

::You know, it's really fraggin' funny when this planet's law enforcement decides to try to enforce their laws on me. I got ticketed last week for stunting; stunting! Really? And this ... afthat, seems to be trailing me and I'm probably going to get photo radar'd for speed by them for at least the fifth time.::

::You would've been ticketed on Cybertron, Endymion,:: B-Dump quipped. ::Not that I blame ya fer not rememberin', but we had special places for that kinda slag, not the public roads.::

::Anyway, I'm not sayin' that I have a bogey at six, but I might have a bogey at six.::

::Ya have a bogey at six,:: Buffalo Dump comm.ed flatly. ::Look, just take a side road, slow yer speed and cruise. Act calm, an' they won't go after ya — ya have to keep 'em away from the mine, all right?::

He sighed, a pine-scented exvent swirling into the air as he turned back to his workers. Switching his comm-link from Endymion's to his air support, he barked, ::Air, this is Buffalo Dump. We've got human fliers around, start circlin' and checkin' for 'em. Keep 'em away from our get, as usual.::

The comms clicked off, and he had a moment of silence before Endymion's voice clicked back into his ear. His tone reassuring, he said, ::Younglin', just do what I said — keep t'bugger away an'...."::

He trailed off, the sound of whirling rotors catching his attention. He gave a whuff of alarm from his vents, Endymion's slowing form in his sights, the garbage mech's fork-tentacles deployed in a burst of alarm. His field was long and out again, flaring with scrap-dammit-not-this-again! as Endymion's message came through. His teeth ground audibly, almost sending a crack through the metal as an alert sounded through the entire op's comm-link.

::All units, all units! We got a helicopter in view, repeat, helicopter in view! Human law colours, do not rule out the possibility of MECH! Air support, coordinates packet on the way — shoot to kill on sight! Grounders, split forces — a third with me, two thirds to guard and be on standby!::

The next message was for Endymion alone.

::FIRE AT THE DAMN THING, SCRAPHEAP!::

[Deleted]

Buffalo Dump's advice had fallen on offlined audio receptors.

The repetitive 'wham wham wham' of the chopper's blades behind him was only comparable to how it might have felt to have fire at his heels. The loud chopping of air was the sharpening of the butcher's knife in Endymion's processor, the noise menacing, spurring him on. If the pilot's intentions had been to scare him, that goal was certainly established. The name came to him; it was a helicopter, something that would probably kick his aft. But what else did he know about them? He raked his processor for something, anything, that would assist him should he have to fight him off. As things were looking right now, the fear that pierced his processor was undoubtedly going to trigger some sort of retaliation from him, one way or another.

He wished he could have remembered, in that split second, exactly what Buffalo Dump had comm'ed to him. B-Dump would know what to do, and none of his plans would include freaking out and running back with his metaphorical tail between his legs. All at once, Endymion felt very stupid, and yet reassured as Buffalo's form enlarged within his sightlines. Although there was no way Buffalo wasn't incredibly cross with him for coming back, there was also no other reaction Endymion would have been able to come up with. 'Safety in Numbers' was a philosophy that was seared into his thought processes. While it meant dragging Buffalo Dump into the problem he had stirred, it also meant a greater chance of survival-

::FIRE AT THE DAMN THING, SCRAPHEAP!::

Right. Fire.

Slag. He braked hard and suddenly, hoping the momentum from the sharp brake would keep the helicopter going, momentum dragging the machine in front of him. Mid-slide, he quickly switched into his biped mode. They were closer to the Energon mine, but it would be more of an advantage to Endymion if the chopper were ahead, rather than behind. He kept exventing, keeping himself calm by glancing from the target to his friend, coming up with as best a strategy he could considering the conditions. He needed to focus on bringing that son-of-a-glitch down, and so he seized the moments wherein the chopper's back was turned, and he was banking.

Endymion raised both of his cannons (they were now where his forearms would be), taking aim. He fired a rapid succession of light shots first, at the helicopter's tail boom. Damaging that boom meant that scrapheap would come down, right? After four light shots, he fired two heavy, and then switched his targets. That tail boom supported the rear rotor- which was Endymion's next target. Giving his heavy weapon a moment to recharge, he resumed the pattern of attack on the rear rotor; four light, two heavy. He shifted out of his light weapon, using his servo to brace his arm as he fired two more shots in his direction in general, before that weapon got too hot. He dropped that arm, eyeing the chopper in worry.

By now, the pilot would have been able to turn around. That motion quickly summoned a string of curses within his mind; however, he didn't think of checking the skies for a second figure.

[Carbine]

Carbine banked hard.

Really? As a Helicopter? He didn’t even NEED turn his entire form around in the spin like he had. If he was more skilled? He could have kept facing them while he wrenched back and made nearly an identical evasive maneuver. But no... instead? He was still living in 'hovercar' mode, and as such? He threw his frame around hacking his tail boom to face them for a moment. It was foolish, and he would soon regret it, but hey... at least it would teach him a lesson no?

The first set of shots skimmed and pelted along his tail boom, the armor that was running along it thankfully keeping the blasts from puncturing straight into internals, or worse... ripping the boom clean off. If he had been a human built Helicopter? Such impacts would have easily wrenched a hole in its frame, with smoldering embers charring up the internals. Instead? Carbine's riot armor actually served its purpose. The sides of the boom were reinforced by what would become the front of his shins and thighs, which caused the lighter blasts to simply rip up the surface and peel off the black enamel to leave nasty scrapes and burns.

Carbine growled internally, and reeled about in pain that was now fueling into focused determination and anger. He could see now there were two targets, that 'human' that was decisively NOT human being the second Mech. Frag... why did Thunder have to always be right?... Either way, it was then the heavy shot came, and because he had turned? It hit the underside of the tail boom which didn’t have the Riot armor in place. The metal got a hole wrenched in it with a crackle, and bang, before Carbine hissed up at Thunder.

::G?M?A Double B?urner::

The Ex-Cop wrenched finally all the way around to square off with the two Decepticons between his sights. Once he was facing more, he had more of an opportunity to... Dodge? Swoop? Try to avoid? Whatever one called it, he spun to the side with a hard bank, narrowly avoiding getting his rotors bashed up. While he was no master at... coptering... he knew that would be the worst thing. It is because of this? He threw himself down towards the ground, transforming as he did so.

::Engaging... ... Not like that f?r?agg?er::

With a hard slam Carbine landed down onto his feet, his frame buckling into a crouch from the impact to absorb some of the momentum. His legs held grayed blistered scuffs and scraps that skimmed across their front, and the back of his left 'calf' had a hole punched into the metal. Energon leaked down the limb to the wheel of his heel, creating long blue lines. He didn’t seem to pay it much mind now though, knowing if he did? It would set himself up to more injury, and for now? He had to try to take advantage of the moment.

"My Turn!"

He called this out boastfully, amusement and a wicked glee laced into his voice. He seemed almost... delighted by the challenge, as if looking forward to this. In a way? Endy reminded him of a few mech he knew in prison, smaller, easy to push around... and as such? Carbine kicked off from his crouched stance, the pursuit officer of a mech launching forward suddenly into a full out sprint.

If there was one thing Carbine could do well? It was run, and while his legs did hurt? And his left leg protested as Energon speckled in his wake? He managed to still ramp up to a very solid speed. The mech's entire frame screamed this is what he was meant to do, smoother arches of armor in the front to cut through resistances, long legs that were thinner when viewed straight on, to his helmet and armor generally being void of 'kibble' décor. During this charge? It was made that much more apparent he was bee-lining at Endymion with intent to fight, as his riot armor fully engaged. There was a hissing snap, before a shield ruptured up out of his collarbone to cover up his neck, and the bottom half of his face, while panels clapped over his side vents and elbow mechanics.

Built to take a hit from the front, able to 'link up' by weaving arms with other police mech, his squad was capable of mixing Enforcer and Pursuit to make a barricade of sorts. It is because of this? He didn’t FEAR being shot, he didn’t HESITATE to charge right at the mech that had fired upon him. He was confident in his armor saving him from anything brought on from a direct assault. It could be seen as counterproductive to ignore the much larger mech to the side, but he had a feeling Thunder may drop in soon...

Drop in?... haha... hah... hint hint... hope hope...

Carbine closed the distance with alarming speed, charging Endymion. At the last moment? He would drop his shoulder down before him, and tighten the connectors in his upper body, planning to ram into the smaller Decepticon with his full momentum and weight in a brutal shoulder tackle. If he missed? He would skid past and throw his frame around so that his back was away from both of the Decepticons, denying them a strike there.

[Deleted]

Thundercloud had been a mere second away from firing of an inappropriate sexual innuendo in response to Carbine’s words, when the mech beat him to the punch and spoiled the joke before it could be made.

::You’re no fun:: He commed back, with mock-hurt.

He couldn’t resist the urge to harass the other mech a little---even while he was being shot at, Thundercloud just had to poke fun. So long as Carbine wasn’t actually getting hurt while he was smarting off at him, it was no harm no foul, right?

Right.

Thundercloud continued his steady path down towards the earth, rocketing through the clouds, wind whipping at his wings as he dove down, down, down until finally the canyon far below him finally began to take shape and come into view. He was still too far up to see much of what was going on, but Carbine’s update had given him a general idea of what to expect, so he wasn’t too bothered by his lack of visuals.

Besides, it didn’t take him long to finally get close enough to actually see what was happening for himself, so he felt no reason to be worried. Sure, Carbine was down there all by himself, but the mech could handle himself just fine if left on his own for a while. As much as he joked otherwise, he didn’t need to constantly babysit the other mech. Carbine was a scrappy little bastard, a fighter in his own right. He didn’t need Thundercloud to hold his hand through fights.

Once he flew down close enough to take full stock of the situation below him, from the vehicons mining away in the bottom of the canyon, to the mech Carbine was rushing at full-speed, it took Thundercloud very little time to figure out what his game-plan was going to be.

Carbine was going after the little guy. A few hundred paces away was a bigger guy. Naturally, he should have gone after the mech his own size.

Instead he took a third option and spiraled down into the canyon, transforming mid-fall and landing with a thunderous bang as his pedes made contact with the ground, kicking up plumes of dust and causing the stone flooring to crack and fracture beneath him.

He glanced around at the vehicon miners, who, upon noticing his arrival, turned to look at him.

He grinned, then reached behind himself for the mace holstered between his shoulders.


“Well, this is gonna be fun.”

[Deleted]

Screeches and alerts came over his commlink, courtesy of the Vehicons below. There was a flier that had landed, the Vehicons below were taking aim — it was either a raiding or a scouting party, considering that the helicopter had just transformed. Buffalo Dump instantly recognized the colours of a copbot, though this lean and lanky thing was a Pursuer, not an Enforcer. That didn't stop him from engaging his built-in armour and charging —

"Endymion!"

Kicking off as if jogging, B-Dump transformed into his hefty garbage truck alt, gunning for the copbot as fast as he could. He accelerated as fast as he could, slowly coming up to 20 MPH, then 25...35...slaggit, why did his kind have to be so slow?! Endymion was just...standing there, staring at the copbot like a helpless turbofox beneath a hellhound's jaws. The youngling was pinned to the ground like prey in an instant, and Buffalo Dump honked angrily as he tried to hit 70 MPH.

"GET OFF OF HIM, PISTONFRAGGER!"

There was a scream for help from his comm., but Buffalo Dump didn't answer it. Instead, he transformed back from his truck-alt, jogging and nearly tripping as he finished his charge at Carbine. Fork-tentacles deploying from his back, he would try to grab Carbine around the waist, then pull him up and off Endymion if the big mech was successful. Once that was done, he would attempt to pin Carbine so that the mech faced upwards, fork-tentacles reaching to try and pin the copbot by his arms to the ground.

//ooc// I had Dante's permission to godmod Endymion for this post. Toggs, I imagine there's about a dozen miners in the canyon below, feel free to go nuts with them.

[Deleted]

There was something clearly wrong with the way Endymion's shots did nothing but scrape away at the chopper's paint. He sensed that there should have been a greater reaction, where the vehicle of this Earth. He couldn't help but note the clunky way the chopper moved; like a swimmer in water that was a tad too cold, its movements weren't entirely fluid, or notably graceful as older, experienced air-forms tended to be... No, he was not dealing with human law enforcement. The steep dive and shift of form broke him out of that thought pattern.

Some part of him had forgotten the laws of physics; a large vehicle made for a large mech, should that vehicle become a mech. He stood, dumbly, servos twitching as he internally panicked and thought of what to do. The mech was built like a safe, all of that armor of great grade and strength; which is why there'd been no wounds, or at least, none to the extent that that Endymion had hoped. He scraped the possibility of the chopper snapping and becoming disabled with ease from his mind, he had to think, he had to come up with fragging tactics- those of which he had no time to prepare for, especially when the mech's shoulder was about to meet with his form.

And meet it did, with a solid bang and a screech from Endymion as he was knocked to the ground. Were he reliant on oxygen, the sensation that overtook him could have been described as 'being winded'. It manifested in him as a solid knock and a ten second blank within his mind, one wherein he did not move; he lay there, dumbly, allowing the other to get a few good hits in. His upper chest and shoulders were bulky, front of his chest being composed of the nose of his alt-form, but his abdomen consisted of sleek metals that were a bit more penetrable. The door-wings on his back dug into the dirt and dust, anchoring him there.

Endymion was vaugely aware of Buffalo Dump, hearing his cursing (even if it was muffled by the sound of his own groaning). Okay, he hadn't been abandoned. That was good. ::Did-did I hit him?:: He commed to B-Dump, stammering anxiously. He was trying to recall the shots he'd laid on him earlier, as he wasn't aware of the wound he'd inflicted on Carbine's leg. Endy lifted his arm that usually carried his heavy weapon, shielding his face from whatever the other mech was undoubtedly already inflicting or going to inflict on him. He had absolutely no advantage right here; no trick up his sleeve or signature move, except for perhaps his will to stay online.

He needed to get up. The thought shot through him as he remained beneath the other. He pressed his lighter weapon against the other's chest, not about to try to shoot him in his well-shielded face (although he really wanted to). He fired a rapid succession of shots against his, hoping this would get him to recoil enough for Endymion to get his own knees up, press his shins to the other's abdomen, and then kick himself out from under him. The shots were rapid, but not enough to inflict much damage; he wanted to create a sting-like effect, to allow the other to give him enough room to squirm out. Of course, the other mech was much heavier than him; it caused his stupid door-wings to press hard into the dirt (as they were not flattened, but pushed into the ground like spades), making him grimace and curse with pain as they contorted beneath him with his squirms to get away.

[Carbine]

The impact was harsh, the full momentum of his weight and speed crashing into the smaller car. It reminded Carbine of the good old days, when he would do this to those fleeing the scene. Oh he'd love it when the targets fled... True he'd yell for them to stop, to halt, to desist or they would be forced to use action, but while he said as such? He was always delighted when they ran. The feeling of wicked accomplishment when he tackled them to the ground was always the highs of his job.

Now he got to relive it here!

The primary difference however? Was that on the job? He would produce his handcuffs and lock down the mech or femme right after he pinned them, while here? In the heat of war? Oh no... there would be no prisoners, only scrap to add to the smelting pit. It is with this, Carbine slammed Endymion to the ground, and sat down upon his waist to pin him with the extent of his weight.

He was trusting Thunder to take care of the larger mech, and as such? He didn’t really pay them much mind, focusing on the car trapped beneath him. The mech seemed to be stunned, which was just fine for Carbine, as his seething yellow optics shone through the black void of his faceplate, making him look almost soulless and drone like. With a wrenching twist of his frame, his right fist hooked up, fingers curling into a tight ball, before he rammed it down to punch Endy in the helm with a hard smacking impact.

Oh yes, this was satisfying.

His fist reeled back again, and he rammed it down just as hard in the second slam. One more repeat was in order, the gears in his frame churning as he pulled back, only for the third punch to slam into the mech's forearm that had been brought up to block his strikes. Carbine's wrist bent awkwardly at the impact that had come a bit sooner than he was anticipating, it hurting the joint some from it. He hissed, wrenching back as fingers flared in an attempt to recover.

Once he assessed that his fingers weren't broken off, both of his hands lurched forward to curl and clutch around Endy's throat. The slim digits would grind down, attempting to clench and pinch off all the delicate wires and tubing that fed Energon to the brain core. Maybe he could get the car to shut down, or maybe kill him outright to end the fight with very minimal energy spent. He was just considering this, when the gun was drawn and pressed to his chest.

Carbine's helm pulled back a bit, trying to hide behind the flare of his riot armor, not fearing the weapon, but liking his optics just how they were. Even at point blank it couldn't pierce his chest right? That was what he was banking on. Now his back? That was a different story. All things considered? Endy would have better luck puncturing his spark through his spinal strut, than he would the riot armor as the blasts seared and scorched at the black and white paint.

That was when it hit him.

Something grabbed him, with so much force and momentum it was disorienting all on his own. Carbine was wrenched off of Endy only a fraction into the attempted strangulation, hoisted up into the air which caused his limbs to drag behind uselessly a moment from the speed of it. This raise in altitude was only minimal, before he was wrenched the other direction. A garbed squawk forced out, as he couldn't tell what was up from down, before he was slammed down atop his back, and Bolo, with a hard crunch against the stone.

The position on his back was not one he wanted to be in, and all in all? It was a very awkward one because of the arching 'backpack' of the Cassette along his spine. It made him not lay flat, no matter what the con would do, as his spine arched away from the flooring below. His arms had to wrench back painfully at a severe degree, to get to the proper angle to be pinned by the clamp like claw of the much larger mech. During this, his rotors flared and flickered, sliding against the stone below with clanks and clatters.

Carbine wrenched and pulled against the restraints, as the sound of a transformation flickered out a moment after. His right hand flexed, before dropping down with a snap to mount under his wrist as if it had broken off partly. Was the damage when he punched Endy wrong showing itself? No... no it most definitely wasn't damage, as the end of his strut where the hand had been previously mounted, surged open with a flare to form the taser.

A savage snarl hissed out as he struggled against the larger mech, trying to angle his arm, trying to maneuver just that little bit... to close the distance just enough or get the mech in front of the weapon. The taser? Could be used point blank, or be fired with an arching crackle of electricity to bridge the distance between himself and BD. It was this he was counting on. If he got the opportunity? He would surge all of the charge he could through the weapon.

The electricity skittered up his arm a bit as his internals revved to produce the power. While he was hoping on this working, he didn’t RELY on it, as long legs bent up and kicked out, trying to dig the sharp toe of his ped into BD's bicep or anything to push him away. Energon from his injury would end up smeared on their armor during the thrash. While this occurred, he bitched to Thunder.

::With backup like you, w?h?o n?e?e?ds E?ne?mi?e?s!??::