Ep. 1.5 - One Night In Bangkok - Closed
Jan 24, 2014 9:35:32 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jan 24, 2014 9:35:32 GMT -5
::This mech has a predilection – ::
::Not again...::
:: – A diet incontent with one composition – ::
::Not a real word.::
:: – Of the energon that we so humbly swiiiill – ::
::Wait. Is the glitchaft actually singing?::
:: – So it’s with good fortune and good grace – ::
::Nope. Definitely road-testing Shocker’s megaweapon.::
:: – We’ll all be standing face to faaaaaaace – ::
::Oh dear Primus, no…::
:: – Wiiiiiiith amechwhoeatstheothermechshekills. Dinner time!::
::SHUT UP, KENNY!::
::Thank you Bangkok, I’m here all weekend.::
Three horns blared angrily in reply.
The indignant noise, however, was swallowed by the organic monstrosity that was city-bound traffic. Such random, intense acts of roadrage weren’t even considered novel in this humid, sweltering, densely populated city: so tightly packed that even the thought of a groundbridge was simply untenable. Instead, a team of six Vehicons, and a single insecticon, had been deployed well outside of Bangkok’s limits with the directive to scout the main factory of Locust Technologies, locate the largely AWOL target and, ultimately, bring him back aboard the Nemesis for further questioning.
These alien invaders from another world – advanced mechanical beings locked in a bitter struggle to the death that had spanned the entire evolution of this species from primordial apekind – had taken hours to drive into the heart of the city, locked in the snarl of peak-hour madness. The air was pungent with acrid fuels, the prickly undercurrent of burnt rubber and the sickly sweet miasma of human cooking in an uncountable number of stalls along the side of every road. As for local driving regulations – what regulations? Near misses from vehicles determined to get to their destination come hell, high water and the firm belief that all crash courses were merely imminent phase shifting events, were a common order. But mostly, their mission had been defined by the jerky, stop-start claim over precious centimetres of coarse, overheated tarmac. Everyone was keyed up from the boredom, the sheer denta-gritting frustration of their limited progress, and the nervous anticipation of their meeting with the shadowy, abnormal Insecticon.
The team’s commander didn’t even pretend he had control anymore.
After numerous failed attempts to restore some semblance of order, Atracchus had simply given up. He left his fellow Vehicons (save for Alex, who was still tearing through Project Gutenburg at a breakneck pace) to their incessant bickering, and had spent a much quieter half an hour pouring over images of artworks native to this region. It was not, perhaps, the most responsible course of action for a team leader to take, but even the mild-mannered Vehicon had his limits. Moreover, these intricate statues of ocean ships, carved entirely out of jade, were utterly mesmerising. He wished he had discovered these several hours before. The delicate, ornate detailing on the ship’s sails was something one should take their time to truly drink in. And it also helped to settle himself in light of recent events.
Somehow the rogue Insecticon had anticipated their arrival. He’d initiated contact with the team and said he would be waiting at Lumphini Park. It was…a troubling development. Without the element of surprise and their quarry dictating the terms of engagement, they were already at a severe disadvantage before they had even arrived. And suppose – suppose those stories, of fearsome cunning and other…less tasteful pursuits, were true…
The GPS beeped. They’d finally reached the turn-off.
Atracchus sent a message to their Insecticon liason, Waspinator (he was still getting used to them having…names) to meet them directly at the site. He also gently reminded his compatriots of the mission at hand (::I’m not going to argue semantics with you. Tone-deaf or not he’s clearly upset by the comparison, and you will all apologise to him right now.::) and to do the same.
As one, the Vehicons peeled off from the main flow of congestion into a narrow alley. Nestled between the crowding buildings, no one noticed six identical muscle cars emerge from the street and drive directly into the park itself. They split up to reach the six furthest ends of their optimal perimeter, sketchy hardlight holograms in local police uniform marking the border in tape to deter native interference.
There was some tree cover at the perimeter’s centre, but unfortunately not enough to dissuade a skilled flier from flying in close overhead, or landing altogether. Alex contacted Waspinator with their current co-ordinates. As one, they transformed.
Could this be a trap? Highly likely.
Atracchus opened his comm. across common Decepticon channels. ::Fellow Decepticon. Your presence is required on the Nemesis for an immediate debrief on the extent of your activities on Earth. Please respond, and hail at these co-ordinates::
Jean snorted. “Maybe you should say there’s milk and cookies in it for the bug too, if it plays along nicely. Do you really think that after all this time, some fancy manners are gonna change its mind?”
At first, Atracchus didn’t seem to have heard. His concentration was split between the skyline, the deep purple of rapidly fading light, and on the thrill of warmth in his arms as weapon systems were covertly brought online. His fingers flexed.
<< Be ready for anything. >> he replied.
::Not again...::
:: – A diet incontent with one composition – ::
::Not a real word.::
:: – Of the energon that we so humbly swiiiill – ::
::Wait. Is the glitchaft actually singing?::
:: – So it’s with good fortune and good grace – ::
::Nope. Definitely road-testing Shocker’s megaweapon.::
:: – We’ll all be standing face to faaaaaaace – ::
::Oh dear Primus, no…::
:: – Wiiiiiiith amechwhoeatstheothermechshekills. Dinner time!::
::SHUT UP, KENNY!::
::Thank you Bangkok, I’m here all weekend.::
Three horns blared angrily in reply.
The indignant noise, however, was swallowed by the organic monstrosity that was city-bound traffic. Such random, intense acts of roadrage weren’t even considered novel in this humid, sweltering, densely populated city: so tightly packed that even the thought of a groundbridge was simply untenable. Instead, a team of six Vehicons, and a single insecticon, had been deployed well outside of Bangkok’s limits with the directive to scout the main factory of Locust Technologies, locate the largely AWOL target and, ultimately, bring him back aboard the Nemesis for further questioning.
These alien invaders from another world – advanced mechanical beings locked in a bitter struggle to the death that had spanned the entire evolution of this species from primordial apekind – had taken hours to drive into the heart of the city, locked in the snarl of peak-hour madness. The air was pungent with acrid fuels, the prickly undercurrent of burnt rubber and the sickly sweet miasma of human cooking in an uncountable number of stalls along the side of every road. As for local driving regulations – what regulations? Near misses from vehicles determined to get to their destination come hell, high water and the firm belief that all crash courses were merely imminent phase shifting events, were a common order. But mostly, their mission had been defined by the jerky, stop-start claim over precious centimetres of coarse, overheated tarmac. Everyone was keyed up from the boredom, the sheer denta-gritting frustration of their limited progress, and the nervous anticipation of their meeting with the shadowy, abnormal Insecticon.
The team’s commander didn’t even pretend he had control anymore.
After numerous failed attempts to restore some semblance of order, Atracchus had simply given up. He left his fellow Vehicons (save for Alex, who was still tearing through Project Gutenburg at a breakneck pace) to their incessant bickering, and had spent a much quieter half an hour pouring over images of artworks native to this region. It was not, perhaps, the most responsible course of action for a team leader to take, but even the mild-mannered Vehicon had his limits. Moreover, these intricate statues of ocean ships, carved entirely out of jade, were utterly mesmerising. He wished he had discovered these several hours before. The delicate, ornate detailing on the ship’s sails was something one should take their time to truly drink in. And it also helped to settle himself in light of recent events.
Somehow the rogue Insecticon had anticipated their arrival. He’d initiated contact with the team and said he would be waiting at Lumphini Park. It was…a troubling development. Without the element of surprise and their quarry dictating the terms of engagement, they were already at a severe disadvantage before they had even arrived. And suppose – suppose those stories, of fearsome cunning and other…less tasteful pursuits, were true…
The GPS beeped. They’d finally reached the turn-off.
Atracchus sent a message to their Insecticon liason, Waspinator (he was still getting used to them having…names) to meet them directly at the site. He also gently reminded his compatriots of the mission at hand (::I’m not going to argue semantics with you. Tone-deaf or not he’s clearly upset by the comparison, and you will all apologise to him right now.::) and to do the same.
As one, the Vehicons peeled off from the main flow of congestion into a narrow alley. Nestled between the crowding buildings, no one noticed six identical muscle cars emerge from the street and drive directly into the park itself. They split up to reach the six furthest ends of their optimal perimeter, sketchy hardlight holograms in local police uniform marking the border in tape to deter native interference.
There was some tree cover at the perimeter’s centre, but unfortunately not enough to dissuade a skilled flier from flying in close overhead, or landing altogether. Alex contacted Waspinator with their current co-ordinates. As one, they transformed.
Could this be a trap? Highly likely.
Atracchus opened his comm. across common Decepticon channels. ::Fellow Decepticon. Your presence is required on the Nemesis for an immediate debrief on the extent of your activities on Earth. Please respond, and hail at these co-ordinates::
Jean snorted. “Maybe you should say there’s milk and cookies in it for the bug too, if it plays along nicely. Do you really think that after all this time, some fancy manners are gonna change its mind?”
At first, Atracchus didn’t seem to have heard. His concentration was split between the skyline, the deep purple of rapidly fading light, and on the thrill of warmth in his arms as weapon systems were covertly brought online. His fingers flexed.
<< Be ready for anything. >> he replied.