[ti]Ep 3.5[/ti]There's No In-Flight Movie [Open]
Oct 11, 2022 1:04:20 GMT -5
Post by Skirmisher on Oct 11, 2022 1:04:20 GMT -5
[Week 1: Day 3: 1330 UTC/01:30 PM Pacific Time Zone]
[Location: Earth: North American Continent: United States of America: Northern California: Pacific Coast]
He’d been aloft for a few breems, having departed the Omega Outpost and hadn’t detected so much on his scanners as a stray Energon cube or curled gray exhaust fumes from a Catalytic Converter System badly in need of a tune up. The difference between the Catalytic Converters and Fuel Injectors used by the Humans in their Sedans to Trucks had a different signature to it than the ones of Cybertronian Design, and it hadn’t simply been the kind of Fuel being passed through those Systems. Humans used a different grades of Gasoline, a byproduct from their own Planet’s Internal Processes to feed the Internal Combustion Engines while using Oil -- from Decomposing Plant Matter he’d discovered -- kept the internal gears and machinery from overheating while their Cybertronian Counterparts fed their own Systems directly with the Refined Energon first found on their own home Planet to the relatively speaking few large deposits that had either been found intentionally or by accident. While Cybertronians could ingest Oil, it hadn’t had the same effect and hadn’t entirely been necessary to keep their own Systems from overheating though some Cybertronians had compared it to Coffee.
The Enforcer had filled out the proper logs that were mandatory before heading out on Patrol following Optimus Prime’s Orders, and had made certain to submitted his Flight Plan into those same Logs. The Prime had Ordered the Fliers to have Patrolled over both the Open Ocean and the Coasts in an attempt to catch either the Activity of the Decepticons, their Allies if they had any and to find the Location of the Nemesis. Skirmisher hadn’t been about to argue with the Prime in that matter, and had departed the Outpost having used the Ground Bridge to a location distant from the Outpost. The Praxian hadn’t wanted to have drawn unwanted, and unneeded Attention towards the Outpost and the Garrison. If he’d been able to have kept curious eyes from finding them, he’d at least accomplished something.
The V-22 Osprey kept itself at a high enough altitude of roughly sixteen thousand with roughly nine thousand Feet rated Service Ceiling for the Osprey, but Skirmisher knew he’d been able to have pushed himself a bit higher. He’d kept his scanners on a Passive Mode since he’d wanted to have avoided triggering the Radar Systems the US Military had employed, and had kept to a reasonable Flight Path he’d observed Military Air Traffic had covered to toss off unwanted attention.
[Location: Earth: North American Continent: United States of America: Northern California: Pacific Coast]
He’d been aloft for a few breems, having departed the Omega Outpost and hadn’t detected so much on his scanners as a stray Energon cube or curled gray exhaust fumes from a Catalytic Converter System badly in need of a tune up. The difference between the Catalytic Converters and Fuel Injectors used by the Humans in their Sedans to Trucks had a different signature to it than the ones of Cybertronian Design, and it hadn’t simply been the kind of Fuel being passed through those Systems. Humans used a different grades of Gasoline, a byproduct from their own Planet’s Internal Processes to feed the Internal Combustion Engines while using Oil -- from Decomposing Plant Matter he’d discovered -- kept the internal gears and machinery from overheating while their Cybertronian Counterparts fed their own Systems directly with the Refined Energon first found on their own home Planet to the relatively speaking few large deposits that had either been found intentionally or by accident. While Cybertronians could ingest Oil, it hadn’t had the same effect and hadn’t entirely been necessary to keep their own Systems from overheating though some Cybertronians had compared it to Coffee.
The Enforcer had filled out the proper logs that were mandatory before heading out on Patrol following Optimus Prime’s Orders, and had made certain to submitted his Flight Plan into those same Logs. The Prime had Ordered the Fliers to have Patrolled over both the Open Ocean and the Coasts in an attempt to catch either the Activity of the Decepticons, their Allies if they had any and to find the Location of the Nemesis. Skirmisher hadn’t been about to argue with the Prime in that matter, and had departed the Outpost having used the Ground Bridge to a location distant from the Outpost. The Praxian hadn’t wanted to have drawn unwanted, and unneeded Attention towards the Outpost and the Garrison. If he’d been able to have kept curious eyes from finding them, he’d at least accomplished something.
The V-22 Osprey kept itself at a high enough altitude of roughly sixteen thousand with roughly nine thousand Feet rated Service Ceiling for the Osprey, but Skirmisher knew he’d been able to have pushed himself a bit higher. He’d kept his scanners on a Passive Mode since he’d wanted to have avoided triggering the Radar Systems the US Military had employed, and had kept to a reasonable Flight Path he’d observed Military Air Traffic had covered to toss off unwanted attention.