Flash - Kalis - "With Enough Thrust..." (Closed)

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Air Raid nodded, apparently accepting the explanation given. It made sense to him, that if someone made you test something as tetchy and potentially unpredictable as a flight-mod for a grounder frame, they might let you keep it afterwards. Provided you hadn't, well, blown up during the trial flight. Because well, let's face it- when developing something like a new thruster or engine, all it took was a leaking fuel line to turn a routine test flight into a fireball.

He scratched his chin and wondered why there weren't more Autobots equipped with them if it had been a success, though. That was odd.

All of that was forgotten in a beat of his fuel pump at the last question, however. The Aerialbot hastily jumped down from the berth he was sitting on and stretched his arms back, flexed his head back and forth to work out a kink, his optics bright and his battered wings stuck upright in enthusiasm.

"Oh hell, yeah," he said, returning the grin. "Whatchu got in mind?"

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“You move for that door and I will bolt you to a berth!” snarled the medic from across the room, sensing shenanigans with an incredible sensitivity that Sideswipe immediately attributed to having patients like Air Raid on base. And in the manner of mutually bad patients, Sideswipe flinched at the medic’s reprimand at precisely the same moment Air Raid did and resolved not to piss the Bot off any further lest they bring great wrath upon them. The medic surveyed the two soldiers, clearly considering whether or not a thrown medical instrument would be required and deciding, reluctantly, that that was not the case. Sides glanced sidelong at Air Raid.

“Okay, well, when I’m done getting my tune up, can show ya up close how it works.”

He grinned again, unflappable and unfazed before turning around, his back to Air Raid so he could get a look at the set up. The arrangement and lay out of one’s back was not, typically something a bot thought too much about, but Sideswipe had been in the unique position for millions of years to think about it. Set into the upper thoracic curve of his spinal-strut was a single chrome-silver jet turbine, partially recessed into the red commando’s upper back plating. The alloy lateral along the turbine split, a series of micro-transformations folding whole exo-plates out of the way somehow into his back while thinner plating opened to accommodate four stabilizers. The primaries were set higher up his back, the secondaries running down his spine. The neural-mounts for the stabilizers and turbine were visibly – at least to medics and those in the know – integrated into several primary nerve directories.

Sides looked over his shoulder. “Aint a flyer, so I don’t know, but other fliers tell me it’s a kinda trippy. Or dangerous. Or basic. I get th’ mix dependin’ on what flier I talkin’ to. What you think?”

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Air Raid winced at the sharp reprimand from the medic across the room. So much for that idea. For now.

He was just debating the wisdom of accidentally flipping over a tray of medical tools to provide a distraction towards their escape when he caught Sideswipe's glance. He grinned back and gave a quick thumbs-up, then immediately goggled when the red warrior turned his back to show the unique mod positioned between his shoulders.

It was a flier thing.

An instinctive reaction really, to anything new or different that revolved around the science and engineering of flight. Few fliers could resist open displays of such technology. There was a common joke passed along that if you upgraded your flying mode, wandered into the middle of an aerodrome and stood under a decent light source, within five minutes you would be surrounded by entranced fliers, poking and prodding and asking the usual questions about top cruise speed and fuel consumption.

Air Raid had never seen anything like this before. He quickly folded his hands behind his back and leaned in close, to remind himself only to look, and not touch.

Well, he had seen part of it before. On the surface, it appeared to be much like a conventional turbojet engine. There were the inlet vanes leading into the axial compressor, and presumably to the burner and ignition plugs, and from there to the turbines. Exhaust nozzles at the back. What was truly remarkable was the mounting, a sophisticated array of transformational plating and stabilizers and neural connections that had to make the mod as intuitive and reactive to use as any other part of the body. It was sleek and deadly looking, far more powerful a beast than a simple anti-grav thruster. Holy.

"That is crazy," said Air Raid, with the unspoken 'awesome' at the end of that sentence implied through sheer enthusiasm. He grinned at Sideswipe and pointed a finger at the mod. "It looks crazy dangerous! Using that thing has gotta be one hell of a rush. What speed can you hit with it? What's maneuverability like? How does it manage cooling?"

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There was something deeply satisfying about watching an aerialist get excited about his tech. Never failed. Sideswipe would never claim not to be absolutely full of himself; he would only claim that he was simply not quite as full of himself as his brother, who was full to bursting. The fact remained that Sides liked an excuse to preen and this was definitely an excuse. He folded his arms and grinned a bit, watching Raid look the design over, appreciating the fraggin’ crazy backwardness of the damn thing. The jet-mod remained a slightly touchy subject most days, but when one spun the story right the questions about where you got it, how, why and all that mess were easy enough to wave away under what a conversation piece it was.

“I can hit most average jet-speeds an’ it don’t handle cooling,” said Sideswipe, activating another micro-transformation.

The sectioned plates lined along the turbine fanned wider, angling slightly out. He continued to look over his shoulder at the other mechanoid while he inspected the design, blue optics tracking Air Raid’s reaction with a mixture of vanity and that reflexive caution of exposing the neural mounts for the mod to anyone. He wasn’t about to explain it without prompting, but there was a reason this design was very much a prototype.

“Least not well enough ta give me even half the endurance of a regular jet or helo. Fuel consumption’s a fraggin’ glitch. What it burns through in one dog-fight is what could keep me going regular for days. Funny thing: it works a lot better at quick burst, stuff. BAM! Nitro, then stop. It’s long distance and endurance that kills me. If I don’t kill ‘em in th’ first fifteen seconds, I’m in trouble. Jets I tend to get th’ drop on. Helo’s though – they got the same kinda start and stop an’ instant 180’s I do an’ pro-jetmorphs, ones who do mid-air transformations, they bad news too. Got razzle-dazzle ‘em ‘fore they figure what I am.”

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Air Raid made a face at the mention of helobots. Hovering targets were a pain in the ass to fight. From a distance he knew he could pick them off with relative ease thanks to their slow acceleration and top speeds, but they were simply too agile up close to dogfight by conventional means. And you couldn't simply transform and drop onto them in mid-air, not unless you wanted your face chewed off by a lot of spinning rotors. Crazy helicopters.

He could certainly sympathise with high fuel consumption, though from the sound of it this amazing, insane jet mod burned through energon at even greater speed than a Seeker or Aerialbot did. But from what he had seen earlier in the skies over the transmitter tower, Sideswipe had refined the art of getting his aerial kills done before his fifteen seconds were up. He could still remember how the red warrior had dropped onto the first bomber like a missile, torn handfuls of internals out of him before kicking off into space again, leaving the Decepticon to plunge into the freeways below.

Totally crazy.

Enthralled, Air Raid studied the exposed turbine a moment longer - the fine transformations that streamlined it into the mech's back were beautifully designed - before glancing back up. He leaned back, to give Sideswipe a little more space again. "Man, I don't think those 'Cons knew once what hit them," he said with a chuckle. He punched one fist into his palm and grinned. "That one bomber that bugged out is gonna be telling wild stories for cycles about getting ambushed by some kind of crazy homing missile over by Kalis. Maybe that'll make them think twice about sending more Seekers out here."

He eyed the mod thoughtfully and rubbed his jaw. "Hey, you know... ever thought of rigging up a drop tank for this thing? It'd be draggy as hell, but it'd extend your range and endurance a bit and you could just drop it before hitting a fight. Might help with those longer distance flights."

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“I aint ever had any notions fancier than maybe dropping frag grenades on Cons from overhead.” Sides looped his hands behind his helm, shrugging, and about-facing to look the aerialbot in the optics again. “Nothin’ ‘bout this set-up’s standard so any work I got done on it would be 100% custom an’ aint a mech or femme who got time for that slag. They prolly come out wit’ a dozen better, more stable, less messed up versions a what I got, but s’not like we got resources lyin’ around ta get that kinda thing sorted out. ‘Sides, I been gettin’ on fine on what I got for the last millennia or so an’ I guess don’t fix what aint broke.”

Sides would have gone on, but someone – the medic actually – grabbed his shoulder and jabbed something with extreme prejudice into a mid-back lumbar port, sending an immediate and joint-locking surge of data up his spinal strut into the nerve directories in the mod. Such a move might have earned someone an elbow to an optic, but he’d heard the other mechanoid coming and figured he was in for something rude. Better quick anyway. He grimaced dramatically at Raid while the medi-bot’s expert fingers eased open half a dozen medical access nodes down his back.

“This doesn’t have even half the armor it needs.”

“Don’t go half as fast with the proper armor.”

“I don’t know how you’re not dead, actually.”

“Skill, mech. Pure.”

“I was going to go with dumb luck, but I suppose that works too.” He felt the disconnect as the doctor jacked out. “Close up and get out of here. Get a proper fuel ration before you try anything stupid.”

Sides beamed, the tubine folding away, flared array of panels flattening into the near-seamless whole of his back. “So,” he said, grinning at Air Raid. “Wanna see what it can do?”

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Air Raid's response was automatic and pure flier: a loud, clear 'yes.' Also maybe a fist pump.

"Aw yeah, you bet I do," he said, grinning back as he lowered his fist. He had not gotten a good look at the red Autobot in action back in the skies over the transmitter. He had only seen a darting bug of light against the darkness, and then the wreckage of his victims as they fell from sky, shedding smoke and scrap. The opportunity to see up close how a ground warrior flew with such a modification integrated into his frame was something that he could not pass up.

He waved for Sideswipe to follow and strolled for the open medbay door. A nurse glared and moved as if to intercept him, but Air Raid preemptively cut off his protest with a jauntily upraised hand. "I'll be back! I'm only going so far as the south apron. It's open there, lots of room for manoeuvring, and it's away from any active anti-aircraft guns. Not that they'd actually shoot anyone responding to radar interrogation as an Autobot," he added to Sideswipe. "But uh, those guys have been a bit jumpy as of late. I don't really blame them, but eesh. They'd probably have an electrical aneurysm if a strange flier popped up outta the blue on their sights. The south apron should be pretty quiet at this time of night."

"Don't wander off too far!" another mech hollered after him. Although he wore the red insignia of a medic on his shoulder, he bore the dull frame and livery of a stock-bot. "We're putting together a field pack of medical supplies now. Should be ready shortly, and we don't have time to spare chasing anybody down."

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“Okay, okay!” said Sideswipe, later, as he and Air Raid hit the tarmac outside, dashing past mechanics doing ship repairs, a trio of helo-bots arguing over patrol, and a small group of foot soldiers who threw a series of follow-up profanities after the pair when they adroitly leap through their group and run on. Sideswipe is laughing as his jet mod goes active, unfolding from his back. “We make it quick okay? Gonna take ‘em just a bit to get that supply pack together, then I gotta scramble back to post. I got my brother and the rest waitin’ on me. Not gonna make ‘em longer than I gotta. You get me? Good.”

There’s a nitro-flash, brilliant blue orange and Sideswipe is in the air again, spiraling up. “C’mon!” His smile lit up more of his face than it should have. “Whatcha wanna see first?”

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Grinning, Air Raid leapt into the air on his heels. He accelerated upwards, cruising on thrusters along. He knew he was not nearly as fast with his own thrusters as the red warrior was with his jet mod, but it was a heck of a lot easier to watch in his root mode. Easier to hover in place too than it was as a jet.

Not to mention the fact that his jet mode was still pretty bashed up. Wasn't bad enough to get excited over, but if the medics heard he was flying around with a long list of snags he'd really caught an earful.

He coasted up to an easy altitude above the ramp and opened an internal comm to the Tower. After transmitting a stream of transponder data he got their clearances within the aerodrome airspace. Good, Radar knew where they were and what they were up to. No accidental targetting by the base defenses today.

Time for some fun. Air Raid levelled out and hovered in place, red light glowing from his heels. He rubbed his hands together with glee.

"Oh man, how about some avoidance manoeuvres first?" he said, his optics bright. "Those are always crazy. Just pretend you've got a 'Con helobot on your six and go nuts!"

He paused, then added curiously, "So, what's your brother like?"

[Deleted]

“A first class fragger,” said Sides in perfectly affectionate Kaonese. The landscape stretched out, a patchwork grid of steel and metalloid that made up this region of Cybertron. Sides hadn’t taken time before to really get a good look, too busy buried in the trenches outside the city. Looking out now, where the great arc of the sky met the global bend of the horizon, he could almost get some of the poor bastards who wanted to fight for something as expansive as ‘Cybertron’ or ‘home’. He didn’t need something as noble as that though.

His fight was bought far cheaper.

Sides laughed and dropped the dialect, thruster flaring before sending the mechaoid spiraling upward, shouting back at the real aerialist behind him: “Hope you never meet him! Let’s go!”

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Air Raid's Kaonese was limited at best - he mostly knew enough to manage the really good swear words. Because frankly, of all the Cybertronian dialects, theirs were the most satisfying.

He got 'fragger' out of Sideswipe's reply and laughed. Sounded like what he had been called on occasion, and what he often called his fellow Aerialbots. Brothers, brothers in arms... sometimes, there was not a whole lot of difference between the two.

He shot up after the red warrior, savouring the sensation of flight. The rush of wind in his audio sensors, the tug of gravity falling behind him while the starry night sky filled his vision. The breathtaking height. Just amazing. An idea struck him as he stared up at the brilliant sparklight of Sideswipe's jet mod, and he quickly folded into his jet mode. Things creaked in protest, but he ignored them. Nothing could stop him from flying now.

In jest, he playfully pinged the sound of his targeting system automatically locking onto Sideswipe's radar target.

"Gotta lock, sucker!" he shouted aloud. "Whatcha gonna do about it, ehhh?"

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Sideswipe laughed, the voice over Inter-Autobot radio-wave coming in clear as the blue burn of his flight unit, streaking corkscrew contrail straight up before breaking sharply right – dead stop then hard cut west, the right angle of his direction change sharp enough to cut the sky. Somewhere out there the war kept going and his brother was in a trench somewhere wondering if he was dead or not (knowing he wasn’t dead, of course, through the quantum-link thread that bound them back-to-back to one another) but for ten stolen minutes Sideswipe played aerial tag with Air Raid and didn’t think about what came next.

“I’m gonna make ya regret it, that’s what!”

The red Autobot jetted hard away from the other mech – for all his threats, he didn’t make a hostile move. He ran – blitzing through the air, swapping to pure Inter-Autobot radio and shutting his audios to the deafening roar of upper atmo against his framework.

//Catch me if you can, hotshot!//

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Holy...!

Air Raid shot past him, his engine flooding the air behind him with super-heated wake turbulence. The white jet went vertical, then awkwardly transformed. As a robot he continued his upwards momentum, his arms and legs spread wide to create enough drag to slow himself down while he squinted his optics against the wind.

His hysterical laughter echoed both over the comm and through the night sky. Holy slag, I'm gonna rip off something! Ahaha!

He had forgotten just how nimble that jet mod was.

Kicking his legs, Air Raid back-flipped over until he could see the twinkling lights of the air base far, far below. He folded back into his jet mode and blasted downwards after Sideswipe, trying his best to keep up with the red warrior's jinking flight path. His confused radar snapped a lock onto the Autobot target, got a tone, then lost it again. It scurried after Sideswipe, trying in vain to grab a lock again. Got it! Lost it.

Got it! "Blam! Splash one!" he crowed over the radio. "Ah crap!" he howled a moment later, when his radar proved unable to hold the lock. Air Raid rolled and shot past Sideswipe again to avoid a collision, unable to match his manouevres. He banked, shearing around to make another attempt. "Hahaha, god! Okay, I totally bombed that round. But here comes round two, pal!"

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Sideswipe still hadn’t recovered from his fit of laughter watching Air Raid bomb past him like a missile on a kill-track so it was with some hasty scrambling the commando ignoted his boosters and rocketed off again, this time launching straight down on a bee-line for the intersecting grid of abandoned roadways below. They were directly over a multi-level roadway structure, highways, transfers bands, and ribbons of road – all in variable levels of bombed out and ruined – and it was into this three-dimensional tangle that Sideswipe dove. The commando shot down a gap four-levels deep, the strips of long-unused roadwork flashing by, the rusted frames of transports still corroding on the concrete from previous battles.

Sideswipe didn’t see it. Too common a thing to be disturbed by - the proof of their world at war.

He hooked left under an overpass in the third level, ducking half a dozen old traffic control lights, and jetting deeper into the shadow of the under-levels. He rolled over so he was flying on his back, looking behind to see if Air Raid was playing his game. It had been a long time since he did close-space aerial maneuvers, even if only in jest. Raider was a good flier. Sides was curious if he could beat the jetster out of open air, excited by the prospect of their probably not so smart contest.

“You comin’!?”

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Without thinking, Air Raid rolled over onto his back and dove straight down after Sideswipe. Layers of crumbling steel and concrete flickered past to either side of him. His jetwash shook dust from the wreckage and spun it into tornadoes in his wake.

Only when he had pulled out of his dive at the bottom of the shaft and swooped beneath the overpass in pursuit did the essential bad judgement of this decision strike him. He was fast and manoeuvreable as a jet, but in these hollowed-out ruins he would have to be a little less hasty and a lot more nimble in order to avoid ploughing nose-first into the rubble. As if echoing his thoughts a collapsed pillar roared past his wingtip, huge and rumbling.

Air Raid banked onto his side to dodge a second pillar. Once, it had supported a monster bypass. Now it was just crumpled steel waiting to snatch him from the air and hurtle him into the debris below.

Whoa! Okay, Air Raid - the last time you were down here you nearly died. And that was bad. Let's not make the score two for zero. Because that would be seriously embarrassing.

Ahead of him, he saw the Sideswipe's jetpack glow like a star in the sooty darkness. He darted after it, his momentary concern for his own welfare swiftly lapsing into competitive glee.

"I'm right on your tail, hotshot!" he taunted over the radio. "Think you can shake me down here? Twenty shanix says you ain't got a chance!"