[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Out of bounds (Thundercracker, Backwater, Flamesnort)

[Starkrieger]

Week 3 | Day 2 -  AM 

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Punctuality was a virtue. Typically, Starkrieger would strive to be somewhere exactly when he was expected to show up, neither keeping other parties waiting, nor wasting time idling at a rendezvous point. That he was already at the exit was a direct result of the thrill that he would be flying. Okay, so it was a patrol flight, which meant business, no goofing off. Certainly no taking on dangerous passes for the sheer joy of it, and he doubted a storm would just so happen to blow in to liven up standard routine. Still, he needed to stretch his wings. His EM was buzzing with pent up energy, like some overeager rookie, and yet the lack of overt excitement and nerve contradicted that. After all, Krieg was engaging in precisely what he'd been designed to do, and was experienced.

He let his processor wander, along with his gaze, whenever another Con passed by. Maybe an Autobot would turn up. He hadn't pursued a flier since his last post. His high primary wings, moments prior nearly vibrating, slipped down toward his backstrut, at the morbid shift in his thought. Thankfully it was brief, as his attention shifted towards the sound of falling steps.

Was that him? He looked familiar. Turning to face the other mech, his field slowly retracted as his optics narrowed in thought, emotion giving way to a memory search. So much so, it stalled his usual habit of assessing fliers on sight. What was the designation of the guy he was supposed to be pairing up with? Had it even been provided, or was he imagining it, now that it was important?

"You must be the mech I'm patrolling with." He started smoothly, German accent accentuated by the easy warm tone he used. He finally fell into habit, looking over the mech before him. A sturdy build, he probably would have the advantage servo-to-servo. No obvious missiles, perhaps restricted to his alt mode? It was tempting to want to circle, to get a better look at him, but he teammates didn't always appreciate this sort of thing.

"Starkrieger, Krieg if you prefer." It was polite, and there was a chance he would feel inclined to return the gesture.

[Thundercracker]

Starscream was getting too...oh what was the word...

Petty...?

Miserly...?

Nah, he’d just stick with petty for now.

Still, it was quite a good excuse to get out of the base. Fliers like Thundercracker really hated to be locked up inside for extended periods of time. Maybe that was why Starscream was so...well now that he thought about it Starscream had been this way for some time. This occasion though, Thundercracker was being paired up with a partner for their patrol.

Honestly, he was not sure how he felt about that detail. Part of the reason Thundercracker agreed with this assignment was that he liked to be alone with his thoughts, where he could be sure Soundwave could not overhear them. But, it was both a logically and tactically sound decision. Two fliers could provide mutual protection should an enemy attack one of them. Speaking of...

Thundercracker just about blinked as he saw who he would be patrolling with. This guy certainly did win the different chassis of the century award. Just a bit shorter than him, covered in a sort of...well Thundercracker did not know how to describe it. One thing was obvious though, this mech before him was apparently built for war with those two exposed missiles. At the other mech’s greeting, he nodded in return.

“Name’s Thundercracker.”

He kept walking towards the exit, motioning for the new guy to follow behind him.

“I don’t know what you know, so for the time being just hang on my wing. Any questions, just ask them.”

[Deleted]

Well.

They’d found trees.

Backwater was hard-pressed to think of a time in her life where finding trees was something that could be considered even remotely exciting, but alas, here they were. The nautically-inclined femme eyed pathetic greenery that barely ranged out of the ‘shrub’ category with an inner sneer, catching sight of a glint halfway up the valley’s opposite mount, between the trunks of sparse growth. Bait paused in his explorations, focused curiosity all but radiating from the cassette as he poked around without her- and then disappeared from sight again, somewhere where the sun wouldn’t reflect off his scales.

It was contenting, for now, she supposed.

If pathetic.

If she could’ve, the femme would’ve sunk deeper into the absolutely abysmally tiny, most puddle of a pathetic excuse for a pond she’d ever had the horrid displeasure of sitting in. Her boredom had led her to skid across the surface of the puddle a few times in alt, but it barely measured the length of a fan blade, let alone anything respectable. After she’d discovered that the dry, beige-ish, grassy, ground felt just about as rough and rocky as it scrappin’ looked, from one attempt to slide down the valley’s slope into the ’pond’- well. She would have to settle wouldn’t she? So there she sat, in the puddle, watching Bait do most of her scouting for her.

What was the harm in it anyway? She’d clambered up one of the peaks (mostly just to spite Bait bastardly smug pitspawned face as he gazed down at her from one of the ledges earlier) and from what she’d seen, it was just…. Rocks, dirt, grass, pathetic excuses for trees, and empty sky in every direction, as far as the optic could see. Valleys and peaks with not one respectable swamp or stretch of water in between. Not even one!
How de-fucking-lightful.

So there Backwater sat, feeling the sun gradually heat the plating on the bow of her alt pleasantly, letting herself gradually drift with the light breeze. It’s almost perfect for a lil nap…

But even she wasn’t that dumb- Bait wasn’t docked, first of all, and she was supremely all too exposed to truly be as at ease as she looked. They’d move on soon, scurrying close to the valley wall’s unto the next sector, until they’d circled around the base’s immediate area. Then they’d return, and her little pup-faced noodle would get his due in energon goodies.
It was a pleasant plan… A morning well spent, if anything. In theory.

[Deleted]

As he flew, he played. The Vampire jet soared through the valley and ravines, cliff tops high above. It was rare for Flamesnort to play like this, an awkward clumsy flier, he nevertheless felt joy this morning. His duty this morning, started long before dawn, was a simple patrol and now he was returning to base. The stars now hidden, had been splendid in the cloudless night and all in all, he was feeling good. He's been up long enough to see the sunrise, and despite his distaste for Earth, he found the rising sun beautiful, and enjoyable. 

As was his nature, he watched the ground and kept his senses alert, as much as he could when he was concentrating on navigating the mountainous terrain. Even indulging as he was, he was not reckless. Thus of course he spotted his comrade on the return stretch to Blackridge. Though his ally was in their terran disguise, they were still unmistakable. The nature of the altmode was entirely out of place for the terrain, and there would have been zero avenues for an actual human vehicle of that particular aquatic nature to make the way to that location Flamesnort reckoned. He was 99 percent certain that he had spotted a comrade. In case he was wrong, well fire sorted out those problems.

With skill born of sheer practice and barely a single iota of talent, Flamesnort came in low, flared up to burn speed and transformed. Twin tail booms joined like a zip, wings segmented and folded, collapsing to hug the sides of his fuselage. Four limbs unfurled and claws stretched. The nose segmented, split and withdrew forming a crest and revealing a mouth lined with precise interlocking shark teeth. Flamesnort landed on the earth next to his kin with claws digging in to halt his momentum.

"Greetings comrade! Enjoying the morn'?" He was cheerful, and now entirely definite he was actually speaking to another Decepticon, one who looked even more out of place than himself. 

[Starkrieger]

Thundercracker, the designation seemed familiar. Hold on. His optics narrowed once more, their focus darting to the major features, face plates, wing position, finish. Wasn't a Thundercracker supposed to be one of Starscream's Trine? He hadn't had much reason to concern himself over the Air Commander's entanglements, not since Vos. Most likely he was mistaken. It would be curious though, if he was Starscream's Trine, why would he be flying patrol with with the rank and file? Optic ridges drew together, it probably looked like he was going to say something, but the Seeker decided to keep his own council.

The gesture to follow was easily noticed, Starkrieger proceeded to fall in, behind and to the left so that his weaponry was clear of the other mech. It wouldn't take long for him to catch on to the rhythm of his stride to match it. Despite his wandering thoughts, taking a formation position finished cutting off his field and schooled his optics and sensors to remain where they belonged, rather than the admittedly appealing set of wings in front of him. It was simply what his processor knew. As the Seeker followed, he flipped his visor into active position, the finer mechanisms of his wings flexing and shuttering in preflight checks. The exercise would probably be relatively boring, but if they did end up in a scrape, he wouldn't be caught with his paneling open.

"Understood." What questions Starkrieger had would become relevant as situations arose, and those might be dealt with before they were even asked. Thundercraker was, after all, assuming point, and didn't strike him as the sort of guy to leave things to chance.

"You should know sir" Yes 'sir', until they either found a situation to be 'at ease', or he was released from the teal Seeker's lead, it was accurate. "While my spatial awareness exceeds standard, I lack sufficient navigation systems. If we split up beyond sensor range I will require a signal or instruction based on relative position or surrounding topography." His left claws flexed absently in anticipation. He could have gone into further detail on his specs, but it was only a short mission. Surely if the Air Commander had felt it necessary, he would have provided Thundercracker with them anyway. If his fellow Con wanted additional details, Krieg was sure he wouldn't be shy about it.

[Thundercracker]

“Noted.”

As the two of them headed for the launch bays, Thundercracker began to roll his arms and joints around, getting ready to move out. One aspect that had seemed to always stay in the Decepticon’s favor throughout the war was a continued air dominance, due to Starscream aligning Vos and it’s armadas of Seekers.

It had always caused Thundercracker a small amount of puzzlement as the years had gone by, what might have happened if Starscream had kept Vos neutral, or had thrown in with the Autobots. But now was not the time for regrets and reminiscing.

As the door opened in front of them, Thundercracker turned back to Starkrieger.

“Lets go.”

And with that, Thundercracker broke into a run out the door before activating his T-cog. And with that, the teal plating of his root form began to shift, with his arms and legs folding up and into the sleek lines of an F/A-18E Super Hornet before blasting off into the sky, trusting that Starkrieger was following behind him.

[Deleted]

She’d heard more than she saw the approach of another vehicle- mild interest turning to tense alarm as it changed course and started descending. Towards her. If it weren’t for the tell-tale ratcheting of a transformation sequence engaging, she would’ve thought the pilot a madman. As it was, now the mech's insane.

Backwater transformed not a split-second after, bow splitting and hull unfolding with enough haste to rock her forward onto her pedes and into a rough fists-up defensive stance. The ’pond’ heaved, water sloshing everywhere with her movement- and that’s how she first came face to face with a predacon.
Or well. That’s what initially flashed through her processor, accompanied by a quick what in the frag?!
Until he spoke. And she caught sight of the Decepticon insignia above the crest of his forehead.

“Uh...” She straightened after a moment’s hesitation, the few feet of water swirling around her pedes. Recovery however, was fast.
“Pits mech, give a boat some warning next time.” While the words were snarky, faceplate settling into its signature smirk as she spoke- Backwater’s visor hid the once-over she gave the ‘Con in front of her. She’d met many a-mech in her days, and seen many-a different creature on her ventures- but quad-frames were a rarity of another caliber. BW reckoned she was somewhat taller, vertically, but since she was currently standing in a puddle and he the shore- well, the point was moot. And he was far, far bulkier than her. They shared a similar colour palette, and the apparent weathering of his frame reassured her that, if anything, he was no inside-pansy. The later observation was about all she needed for initial impressions, and they were looking favourable so far.

Whether she hadn’t heard or simply chose to ignore his greeting entirely was up for debate, as she moved a hand to rest on her hip and left the other lax at her side. “Who’re you? I’m sure I woulda known ya if I seen ya walking down the hall back in the Hold.”

Bait, in the meantime, watched the exchange curiously. Carrier’s initial alarm had smoothed out, so this One wasn’t a threat for now. As quietly as he could, the cassette slithered out of where he’d wound himself around a couple of the bigger trees and into the grass, peering at this New One with interest. Bright degrees of delectable heat blotted out this One’s form in Bait’s vision, drawing the snake about as close as he dared. For now.
This One was warm.

Sensing her wayward cassette's intent- if perhaps a bit pre-emptively- Backwater's gaze momentarily moved beyond the mech on the shore, though it wasn't overly apparent with her visor, to seek Bait out. It wasn't as hard as he would've liked to think to spot him, especially when he poked his head above the grass and met her optics. A little wary of how this unknown mech would react, BW gestured for her cassette to come back to her in addition to calling out.
"C'mere wyrm."
She knew by the slight hesitation to Bait's compliance that she'd been spot-on. It had probably ruined Bait's fun, but pit knew that he'd likely been about to attempt to clamber up this individual and use his frame as a sunning-rock. Or something equally ill-advised. The cassette slowly slithered his way past the quadframe, giving him a wide-enough berth only to pause expectantly at the pond-puddle's edge. Backwater huffed, and lent over to offer her arm.

"Spoiled, utterly spoiled." She muttered with a fond shake of her head. In a move that was obliviously well-rehearsed, Bait wound himself around her limb as she straightened and spoke, holding her arm out to give her cassette some room to maneuver. Backwater's attention turned to the new mech once more, even as Bait continued up to her shoulder and across her back to start up docking procedure. She was glad he'd gotten the memo- usually he would stay draped across her shoulders for a little while longer. This time however, she felt it prudent to dock him immediately least something unexpected occur. As such, the serpentine cassette continued on his way, initiating the transformation sequence as he wound himself around his carrier's waist like a belt. It rendered him flat and seamless with Backwater's own plating, locking him securely into position as his systems aligned with his carrier's, sinking him into delightful recharge.

"With that taken care of, back to business-" She chuckled, motioning the mech in front of her to continue on with a dismissive wave and a widening grin plastered across her faceplate.

[Deleted]

"Pouncing on distracted prey is far more rewarding." He offhandedly said with a light chuckle. "Greetings!" He bowed his head respectfully before simply lowering his body to the ground apparently to rest. The exact position of his feet and claws belied the fact he was ready to spring should the need arise. He was simply trying to be disarming.

"I am Flamesnort, at your service." Again he dipped his head respectfully, chivalry was not going to die on his watch. He briefly looked her up and down, noting colors, size, shape, and wear and tear, before further scanning the surrounding terrain. "I am rarely in the base, spending much of my time in the mines helping where I can. And may I enquire as to your name?" 

Quite frankly, he was delighted to meet another amphibious Decepticon, and a femme at that. The d'con insignia weighting the top of her aerial was slightly amusing to his sensibilities which further played into the favor of the boat former. He also couldn't fail to notice the puddle she was standing in was ridiculously small for an aquatic form. Someone to go swimming with? A pleasant morning had just got a whole lot nicer he felt. 

Then his attention was drawn away by movement to his right. He was almost ready to pounce when he noticed the metallic glint absent from Squishy fauna. Curiosity held him in check until the creature revealed its full form to his optics. The snake-like creature was clearly cybertronian. Of all the things these past few months to bring a surge of nostalgia, this was it. It was a dizzying rush though him, from snout to tail tip. If he wasn't crouching, he might have lost his composure. slowly the surged died away but it didn't entirely leave.  

After the snake docked, his curiosity about the creature's origin settled. It was a cassette, and the femme was clearly the carrier. This day was getting more and more interesting. 

[Starkrieger]

Optics adjusting at the shift in the visible spectrum as natural light dominated artificial, Krieg shifted his gaze skyward. The change was subtle, wings twitched as he fought warring urges to 'assess and track', or to remain 'at attention'. It was the physical discipline that kept his field in check, and repressed the surge from his spark at the prospect of flight.



Refocusing at the shifting in the other mech's stance, meeting those optics from behind his visor. Thundercracker wouldn't have to speculate on where his attention lay, the lightly tinted polymer wasn't designed to obscure his features. A hint of color, lighting the highpoints of faceplates at the right optic, suggested data was already displaying on the user side. Yet, his visual focus remained on the flier. A slight nod subconsciously acknowledgement the order.



Breaking into a run after the other, he gave in to his desire to evaluate. Specifically he noted pede configuration, or rather the turbines. Root flight capability? If so, how well did he utilize it in battle? If not for their newness to one another, coupled with the syncing of their movements, his field energy would have spiked at the thrill of the potential in a match against him, certain Thundercracker would make an exciting opponent regardless. His frame and the way he moved indicated as much. Thankfully, his instincts were regulated to the back of his processor, his emotions efficiently curtailed. He didn't waiver in his pace, t-cog similarly triggering the folding of anatomy, dividing and rearranging of plating into his guise of a Eurofighter typhoon.



How odd it was not to deploy fundamentally uniform alts.



As they took to the skies, he still favored the left, but deviated from perfect formation. The variance was marginal, not enough to compromise performance, but it was improper. The difference remained constant, not widening or narrowing to suggest a lack of skill or experience. It was intentional avoidance of the proper place for a wingbrother in support of his Trineleader. Krieg wouldn't put himself there, not on his own. He wasn't surprised Thundercracker noticed, nor that he issued the order for him to assume proper formation. It had always been a likely outcome. He complied, seamlessly and without complaint; whatever discomfort it evoked, dismissed. Following command made it less... treacherous, excusable. That's what he told himself anyway.



As the Seekers came to a valley, a contrast of light reflected off the pitiful pond in opposition to non-reflective surroundings caught the Seeker's attention. It was because of it Backwater was distinguished where her color scheme might cause her to blend. Between the distance and angle, Krieg hadn't spotted the squat form of the second mecha, though at the speeds their model traveled it wouldn't be long. Backwater's position was beyond his additional sensors, if not for her being in root, it would have been up to logic to identify her nature.



:Unidentified Cybertronian: His silence was broken with the same accented vocals, only devoid of emotion. Favoring a data burst over further vocalizing, he supplied Thundercracker with relative position, and estimated time till they were within weapons range.

---

Go ahead for TC to correct Krieg, granted by Deak. Thank you sir ^^

[Thundercracker]

Thundercracker frowned inwardly as he saw what Starkrieger did.

So, had he realized who Thundercracker was, or rather who Thundercracker’s trine had been? Well, he had been hoping to keep that all a secret. He was about to open a comm ordering other Seeker into formation when he paused. He had never been one for protocol, and this gave them slightly more coverage than usual. So Thundercracker said nothing as they flew along, just keeping his attention on the terrain and his rader.

At Starkrieger’s transmission and data burst, Thundercracker turned his attention in that direction, catching a brief glimpse of the bogey before he lost visual contact. Well, time to come up with a plan of attack.

:We’ll come in from heading 90 towards heading 270, put the sun at our backs. Weapons hot but do not fire unless I give the order:

Thundercracker began a downward bank followed by a reversal, aiming to put himself on that east to west course. As he did he dropped altitude so that he was about three thousand feet off the ground, thereby hoping to confuse any radar systems that their unknown target might have. When he was within range, he flipped on his targeting systems, setting his heat seeking missiles guidance systems to begin searching for something to lock on to.

He just hoped Starkrieger could keep up.

[Deleted]

“Ah, that’s fair.” And it was, she’d known the delight of a catch well caught, long ago. “Even though being the ‘prey’ ain’t the greatest feeling in the world.” The way her helm bobbed as she spoke, tone kept light, suggested an eye-roll, but one could not be certain.
She eyed him, running through Bait’s docking programs and procedures with an absent mind, casting only the barest of processing power over the readouts from his systems. Once content, she dipped her helm and waved a hand at… Flamesnort.

Somehow, the name was real fitting.

“Backwater, and the slithering menace is Bait. Just got ‘ere, all the more reason I wouldn’t have seen ya round it seems.” Briefly she wondered how a flier felt being underground in the mines so often- that seemed to be a trend with their kind. Airheads, the lot of them. Getting all stressed out being coped up- especially, she supposed, when the Hold itself was underground.
Then again, she’d never known a quad-framed flier, so maybe they ran a bit differently. Who knows? The airboat didn’t particularly care, actually. The slight annoyance and alarm of Flamesnort’s appearance was quickly subsiding, leaving only mild interest.

“I’d offer to shake but ya got claws the size of my arm.” She quipped, smirk still plastered in place.

Until a peculiar sound made itself known to Backwater, drawing her attention from Flamesnort to the skies above. Her optics narrowed into a squint, thankful for the visor that helped shield them from the worst of the sun. Her frame tensed and lowered into a more defensive stance, hand automatically moving to hover over the pistol strapped to her thigh.

“We got company-” Her grin lessened only a little by the terseness of her tone, Backwater jabbed her chin in lieu of wasting time to point, motioning behind and above the quad-frame. She still couldn’t quite make out whoever or whatever was on their way, but her processor immediately jumped to the worse-case scenario. After all, she’d already been jumped on by a friendly flier- what’s the chance of it happening again? Pits, it could even be a local craft!

And! They were relatively near the Hold- had those dumbaft Autobots found it already? Really? Some secret base that was.

[Deleted]

Backwater and Bait. The paired names slithered into his memory bank and settled. He felt there was probably a joke behind the cassette's moniker, maybe something to pry at some other time. 

Flamesnort waved his left paw about. "These old claws, I surprise most with my gentle dexterity, delicate precision is a powerful tool in itself." Flamesnort joked. He knew precisely how rough and tough he looked but he had no interest in scaring off a new comrade, and not one this interesting.  

The old quad frame tensed as he too heard the sound of approaching jets. He hunched a little, ready to pounce off in whatever direct he needed. 

"Probably other Seekers." He ventured. "This isn't a human flightpath and I'm certain Pyrotech or Soundwave would have the airways monitored for un-friendlies." He wasn't happy so much now. He didn't want more company right at this moment, bot, con or squishy. 

[Starkrieger]

:Wilco:

It was all Thundercracker was given, as Krieg’s focus sharpened, on the potential target below, and his wingmate. The mech flying point was the only one in reach of his array however, so its was attuned to him, tracking and calculating, to make up for his lack of familiarity with the Ace flier.

Thundercracker’s directions were clear, the maneuver was simple. Even the nuances of Earth’s atmosphere were rendered trivial by his sensors, and experience with countless conditions seen throughout the war. The problem, this was his first post he'd had to adopt a foreign alt, and he’d been stationed in a mine.

Of course he sensed the pocket of rising air, marginal, no action required. Mid bank, the underside of his far wing hit the thermal. If he’d been an earth jet, it would have dropped his wing, and nearly did as he waivered. A quick selective transformation split the surface, reducing the effect, allowing the lower pressure to pass over what would be a secondary, in root. With an added boost to his thrusters he countered the roll, and forced his frame to comply with his processor’s demands.

Manipulating flight through transformation was standard for Krieg to accomplish what he couldn’t strictly in alt or root, and to exercise control as he transitioned between modes. It wasn’t meant to maintain relative position. A Seeker had to be better than that. He had to be better than that.

A reckoning would come...

Later

Formation subroutines suppressed the frustration flaring in his spark, but he wouldn’t let himself forget. The resealed seam was searing as he followed the reversal, harsh winds having assaulted mechanisms he’d intentionally left exposed during the correction. The limit of his self correcting that circumstances allowed.

Bearing down on Backwater’s position, Krieg switched on targeting systems as instructed, scanning for signatures. Once in range, with weapons locked, he would refrain until command was issued, or an active threat was identified.

[Thundercracker]

As they bored in on the target, Thundercracker noticed his wingmate’s wing dip down as he hit the thermal, then transformed slightly for recovery. He was about to ask if Starkreiger was alright to continue, but suddenly his scanners came alive.

Two Decepticon energy signals, right where his target was.

:Wave off, wave off:

Thundercracker used his speed to gain altitude and pulled slightly to the left away from his wingman, trying to get a better view of the clearing. Sure enough, there looked to be a Cybertronian standing in the clearing. He frowned slightly, wondering if his scanner was on the fritz before shrugging mentally.

:Looks like one or two of our guys:

He thought for a moment before continuing. If there were two Decepticon’s down there, he figured he ought to go down there and figure out what in the Pits was going on. But that would mean that four bots on patrol would be tied up jaw jacking, leaving the defenses wide open. Not that he particularly minded not following Starscream’s orders to the letter, but there were also the practical circumstances to consider.

Besides, he likely would also incur the wrath of Megatron and Soundwave, two bots he was in no mood to piss off.

He made a decision, turning to continue the patrol while radioing to his wingman. If Starscream wanted to throw a fit about splitting the formation Thundercracker could handle him.

:Starkreiger, go down there and figure out what is going on. I’ll continue patrol.: