Flashback - Leap of Faith - Closed
Nov 9, 2013 22:48:43 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Nov 9, 2013 22:48:43 GMT -5
Puppeting worked fine!
I see your wall of text and counter with my own! Figured I'd give them a bit more excitement and let Jazz cause some more mayhem, and then they can escape. \o/
Jazz was feeling much the same on his end, though he was so very, very aware that they were not home free, yet. There was the tiniest of access roads outside that hatch, and who knew what along it before they could get clear enough to signal for pickup. Not to mention they were now completely off of Red's camera grid and their pursuers might catch up with little warning. But getting to their bolthole was a huge step, and as Fusion slipped past him to manually unlock the thing, Jazz grinned.
::I'll take you up on that. Buy you one, too. I still don't believe that you PUNCHED that blade.... Lucky you didn't slice your hand in--frag.:: Jazz's sensors picked up footfalls. Light ones, coming their way fast, then heavier ones, running as well but slower.
The terrain didn't really favor them. They were in a straight hallway, the hall continuing on past the access hatch. The footsteps were only coming from one direction, but running wasn't an option. The hall would just lead them back to the base. It would be suicide to dive back in, especially now that everyone knew they were here.
Jazz slipped around Red, putting himself between his charges and the coming danger. ::Company's coming. Be reaaaaally good to have that door open now.::
Fusion's reply was at first nothing but a bitingly annoyed string of curses in several languages. ::Turborat-fragging, rusted piece of slag! Damned thing must've settled. I can't get it to budge.::
Jazz spared a glance back and saw that Fusion was all but dislocating every joint in her body, trying to pull a handle that refused to turn.
Jazz had known that this was too easy. Ah, well....
::Red, give her a hand. Y'both stay flat as y'can against the wall and work on that door. I'll cover ya.::
Something small and fast flickered around the corner back the way they'd come. Laserfire streaked down the hall, but plastered against the wall like they were was a bad angle, and the 'Con knew that, putting on a burst of speed like he was running the Velocitron 500.
Jazz crouched low. ::Red? Might wanta shunt my feed aside. This is gonna get disorienting.::
He pushed off and RAN.
He caught the 'Con (small, fast, lithe, no one Jazz recognized, but he'd bet his second-best knife that he was spec ops of some stripe) halfway between, a good distance from Red and Fusion. The 'Con lunged and Jazz leapt, and the next few moments were fast and furious as they both tried to stab the other in silence.
The 'Con was faster, but Jazz was cannier, all feints and half-steps, and one confused 'Con was all it took for Jazz to slide his knife up under the mech's chest and slice away his sparkfeeds. The mech bared his dentae and tried to get one last slice in, but the light faded from his optics and the knife fell from his fingers before he could connect.
Jazz didn't have time to celebrate. Those heavy footsteps were much, much closer, now. Coming right around the same corner the spec ops had come from.
Frag, that was a tankformer. And she had the cannon to prove it. A cannon with a blast radius wide enough to take out Red, Fusion, the hatch, and probably part of the wall.
And there was still swearing and creaking metal but no sound of hatches opening behind him.
This, Jazz thought, is just not my cycle.
The tankformer's optics peered down the hall, focusing on him and narrowing.
Jazz sprinted for her.
This, evidently, was not what the tankformer was expecting, judging by the blink of her optics. Jazz had seen that plenty of times. Most folks ran FROM the big mecha, which was a perfectly reasonable response if you thought in terms of being able to outgun or outpunch something. Jazz, however, did not. He was small and lightly armored, and all reason said that he shouldn't be running toward the huge frontliner, but his motto was that they had to CATCH him before they could rip him apart.
And he was REALLY GOOD at not being caught. Perhaps ESPECIALLY against large mecha, because they were usually slower and so often used to closing with mecha of their own size class. Being a small, fast mecha made you automatically something that they didn't really know how to close with. Nonetheless, most large mecha THOUGHT they did. They saw a small, tin-plated mech like himself and thought that it was squishing time. Jazz could see this thought crossing the tankformers mind, spreading across her face with a grin as she swiped for him, going for a grab.
Jazz just grinned back, slid under the swipe, and LEAPT.
One step on her forearm, another on her shoulderplate, and he grabbed at the tread on her shoulders as he continued right on over her. He used the hold on her tread as a fulcrum, swinging himself down onto her back and latching on close there.
"The FRAG!" She flailed her arms back, but it was a weakness of her frametype: she couldn't really reach her own back well enough to grab him, tucked in as he was.
It didn't take much from there. The cowling of her helm made it difficult to get a knife at anything worthwhile, but two quick subspace accesses, and Jazz had a pistol in his hand. Nothing impressive. Nothing powerful enough to get through her plating, but then it didn't need to, when he jammed it between the armor and fired right into the inner workings of her vertebral column.
Liquid spewed, some of it on fire, and the great frame under him shuddered and jerked. Jazz pulled the trigger a few more times just for good measure and then leapt clear.
The tankformer's frame fell to the floor with a tremendous crash and laid still. Jazz shot her a final time, just to make sure.
Jazz looked up toward Red and Fusion. ::Please tell me we got an open door. Everyone in this base knows where we are, now.::
((Maybe one more where they get the door open, and then Jazz to close as they ride off into the sunset? ))
I see your wall of text and counter with my own! Figured I'd give them a bit more excitement and let Jazz cause some more mayhem, and then they can escape. \o/
Jazz was feeling much the same on his end, though he was so very, very aware that they were not home free, yet. There was the tiniest of access roads outside that hatch, and who knew what along it before they could get clear enough to signal for pickup. Not to mention they were now completely off of Red's camera grid and their pursuers might catch up with little warning. But getting to their bolthole was a huge step, and as Fusion slipped past him to manually unlock the thing, Jazz grinned.
::I'll take you up on that. Buy you one, too. I still don't believe that you PUNCHED that blade.... Lucky you didn't slice your hand in--frag.:: Jazz's sensors picked up footfalls. Light ones, coming their way fast, then heavier ones, running as well but slower.
The terrain didn't really favor them. They were in a straight hallway, the hall continuing on past the access hatch. The footsteps were only coming from one direction, but running wasn't an option. The hall would just lead them back to the base. It would be suicide to dive back in, especially now that everyone knew they were here.
Jazz slipped around Red, putting himself between his charges and the coming danger. ::Company's coming. Be reaaaaally good to have that door open now.::
Fusion's reply was at first nothing but a bitingly annoyed string of curses in several languages. ::Turborat-fragging, rusted piece of slag! Damned thing must've settled. I can't get it to budge.::
Jazz spared a glance back and saw that Fusion was all but dislocating every joint in her body, trying to pull a handle that refused to turn.
Jazz had known that this was too easy. Ah, well....
::Red, give her a hand. Y'both stay flat as y'can against the wall and work on that door. I'll cover ya.::
Something small and fast flickered around the corner back the way they'd come. Laserfire streaked down the hall, but plastered against the wall like they were was a bad angle, and the 'Con knew that, putting on a burst of speed like he was running the Velocitron 500.
Jazz crouched low. ::Red? Might wanta shunt my feed aside. This is gonna get disorienting.::
He pushed off and RAN.
He caught the 'Con (small, fast, lithe, no one Jazz recognized, but he'd bet his second-best knife that he was spec ops of some stripe) halfway between, a good distance from Red and Fusion. The 'Con lunged and Jazz leapt, and the next few moments were fast and furious as they both tried to stab the other in silence.
The 'Con was faster, but Jazz was cannier, all feints and half-steps, and one confused 'Con was all it took for Jazz to slide his knife up under the mech's chest and slice away his sparkfeeds. The mech bared his dentae and tried to get one last slice in, but the light faded from his optics and the knife fell from his fingers before he could connect.
Jazz didn't have time to celebrate. Those heavy footsteps were much, much closer, now. Coming right around the same corner the spec ops had come from.
Frag, that was a tankformer. And she had the cannon to prove it. A cannon with a blast radius wide enough to take out Red, Fusion, the hatch, and probably part of the wall.
And there was still swearing and creaking metal but no sound of hatches opening behind him.
This, Jazz thought, is just not my cycle.
The tankformer's optics peered down the hall, focusing on him and narrowing.
Jazz sprinted for her.
This, evidently, was not what the tankformer was expecting, judging by the blink of her optics. Jazz had seen that plenty of times. Most folks ran FROM the big mecha, which was a perfectly reasonable response if you thought in terms of being able to outgun or outpunch something. Jazz, however, did not. He was small and lightly armored, and all reason said that he shouldn't be running toward the huge frontliner, but his motto was that they had to CATCH him before they could rip him apart.
And he was REALLY GOOD at not being caught. Perhaps ESPECIALLY against large mecha, because they were usually slower and so often used to closing with mecha of their own size class. Being a small, fast mecha made you automatically something that they didn't really know how to close with. Nonetheless, most large mecha THOUGHT they did. They saw a small, tin-plated mech like himself and thought that it was squishing time. Jazz could see this thought crossing the tankformers mind, spreading across her face with a grin as she swiped for him, going for a grab.
Jazz just grinned back, slid under the swipe, and LEAPT.
One step on her forearm, another on her shoulderplate, and he grabbed at the tread on her shoulders as he continued right on over her. He used the hold on her tread as a fulcrum, swinging himself down onto her back and latching on close there.
"The FRAG!" She flailed her arms back, but it was a weakness of her frametype: she couldn't really reach her own back well enough to grab him, tucked in as he was.
It didn't take much from there. The cowling of her helm made it difficult to get a knife at anything worthwhile, but two quick subspace accesses, and Jazz had a pistol in his hand. Nothing impressive. Nothing powerful enough to get through her plating, but then it didn't need to, when he jammed it between the armor and fired right into the inner workings of her vertebral column.
Liquid spewed, some of it on fire, and the great frame under him shuddered and jerked. Jazz pulled the trigger a few more times just for good measure and then leapt clear.
The tankformer's frame fell to the floor with a tremendous crash and laid still. Jazz shot her a final time, just to make sure.
Jazz looked up toward Red and Fusion. ::Please tell me we got an open door. Everyone in this base knows where we are, now.::
((Maybe one more where they get the door open, and then Jazz to close as they ride off into the sunset? ))