old_mansion_bots_stuff | Mission, Possible?

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Mission, Possible?

Vector Prime stands next to Optimus, his hand on his younger sister's shoulder as he glances around the rec room in search of signs of the party that occurred here the night before. He wonders slightly how that party will be affecting the battle to come. Of Lumen's ability to fight even when overcharged he has no doubts, but the two femmes and the medic who'd been involved.... Well, he's seen so many versions of the three that he isn't quite sure what to expect from them.

-They'll probably be fine.- Optimus' optics flash with laughter as she takes advantage of his offline status to communicate with him privately. -I've never seen a Chromia yet who couldn't hold her charge. And she and Lumen will stand by the other two.-

-As you say,- he replies softly, smiling. -Though I would have still wished for more sober troops for such a serious assignment, I know that we have exactly the troop that Primus feels is most appropriate.-

"Right." Optimus gives him a grin, then turns toward the door as they sense the first arrival's approach.

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It may come as no surprise that Movor is the first to tramp into the room - if only because he's already been up and about for so long. He glances about as he comes in, placing every feature of the room, but pausing to give a nod to his commander and her current ally.

He comes to a smart halt as he joins them. If he went short on recharge the night before, it doesn't show-

And this might just be a surprise: Fallstreak isn't long behind him. The jet-former actually looks a little indefinably worn around the edges, though he's taking care to move with as much swift ease and absence of jitters as he can. He tosses off a salute as he manages in placing himself opposite all three of them. "Good morning, sirs."

"Good morning, Fallstreak," says Optimus as she puts a hand on Movor's shoulder and hears Vector's rumble of greeting from beside her.

Then she looks up as a small voice murmurs from the ceiling, and winces slightly as a blast of technotrancemetal announces Lumen's approach. The old Autobot is singing along in German about death, destruction, and lollipops, for the enemy.

Fallstreak gets a slight nod of his own from Movor, although he doesn't stop to wonder what to make of that. He's giving the lot of them a polite smile, and then glancing at the noise from the ceiling.

It takes Lumen's arrival to really get Movor's attention, though. His visor flickers at the blast of sound and also the content of it. Human music? Lollipops? German?

At least Fallstreak's too experienced with that sort of thing to stare quizzically the way the shuttle does. Even if the sudden noise makes his joints lock in place. "Hello, Lumen," he greets softly, looking over his shoulder with optics just grey of white.

"Yo," says Lumen happily, the grin on his face suggesting that the old fighter isn't fully sober. "You all ready to kick bug butt?"

Then he glances toward the Primes as Vector clears his throat, the music snapping off as he nods respectfully. "Good morning, sirs."

"Have you seen Desinex, WakeJumper, or Chromia?" asks Optimus after she and Vector have returned his greeting.

"Not since I got up for a shower." Lumen looks around absently. "But they're not here, so there's a good chance they're up."

"Had a busy night?" Fallstreak enquires, masking his tension with his mild smile as he follows the Autobot's gaze.

"Yeah." Lumen eyes him good-naturedly. "You should've come. We were remembering recipes for drinks you light on fire before you drink 'em."

"'n recipes f'r th' really fun drinks 's well..." Chromia says as she and Perceptor arrive. Aside from a very slight, almost unnoticable sway, Chromia seems to have fared well. Perceptor has his now customary cup of 'tea' all but finished as he looked around the room.

"Shame I missed it," Fallstreak agrees, turning his smile their way. The flier doesn't mention what he was actually doing at the time. You could assume he was recharging. Trying to. "I used to know a few of those. Maybe I can dredge them out of my databanks later, if there's enough of us left to drink them."

He winks at Chromia, then tilts his head at the scientist. "Morning, Perceptor."

Movor, behind him, is silent as he watches and listens. Of course he has a few sensors tuned to his superiors, ever alert for any hint of an order. But for now he has time to observe these outsiders - Autobot and not - the way one might some curious specimens of wildlife.

Though if that's the comparison, his gaze would be that of a hunter.

-And now I realize how few of us are left,- thinks Optimus to Vector as she nods to the last comers and studies them for signs of infirmity. -But there are still enough here for a good squad.-

"Chromia, do you know if Desinex is coming?"

"Ah think so... Ah saw 'er gettin' some coffee earlier... 'n Wake's stockin' up on field supplies 'r 'e was th' last Ah saw 'a 'im..."

Speaking of, here comes the medic now. He doesn't seem too terribly inebriated, though the femme he's escorting has clearly had better mornings.

"Sorry we're late, Optimus, Vector Prime..."

Fallstreak frowns, thrown by the alien term 'coffee' before he thinks it sounds vaguely familiar. Perhaps it's another human item he was introduced to in passing and forgot about.

He remembers himself in time to nod politely at the new arrivals, murmuring a low 'good morning' their way. Then he glances back at the officers, keeping track of them as he moves aside to make way for the newcomers.

And perhaps it's instinct that moves him to the side away from Movor. He's newly conscious of the shuttle-bot's unbroken stare, even though it's not directed at him. Said stare narrows, just a fraction, in the moment that Fallstreak watches him. He disapproves of poor timekeeping, apparently.

Optimus gives Movor's shoulder a reassuring and possibly distracting squeeze as she watches him watch the others. Beside her, Vector is frowning slightly.

"Are you certain you are feeling capable of taking part in this exercise, Desinex?" inquires the ancient Time Guardian gravely.

Desinex grumbles something more than likely impolite from behind her mug. WakeJumper facepalms and pings Vector Prime's comm with an apology for Desinex's behavior, while Chromia coughs to hide her snicker. Thankfully, Perceptor seems to have missed the possible obscenity, instead choosing to focus on the matter at hand.

"If I may inquire, what will the day's mission entail?"

Fallstreak tilts his head at Desinex for a moment, looking slightly startled. He quickly perks up at Perceptor's question and turns towards the officers.

"Ah, yes, the mission," he says, in a voice that paints him as the picture of an attentive junior officer.

Vector nods to WakeJumper, then projects a hologram onto the floor in front of him. "We will be going against a small swarm of these creatures, which are known as Tyranids."

Lumen looks at the moving image of the scaly, hard-shelled horrors and whistles softly. "Haven't seen anything like that in vorns."

The comment from the ceiling is a bit more succinct.

"Numnum."

Chromia lets out a low whistle at the sight of the Tyranid hologram, while Perceptor makes a soft noise of surprise. This gets WakeJumper's attention, as well as Desinex's. WakeJumper frowns and muses out loud whether his saws would be able to do anything against the creatures. Desinex snerks a bit, and now seems more concerned with inspecting her claws... "So, when do we get to deal with these things?"

Movor regards the image - and the others' reactions - in contemplative silence. The flier across from him leans towards the image curiously. (It's quite pretty, in an alien sort of way. Actually, it reminds him of certain other bots in the room, but perhaps he shouldn't say that.) "And is there anything particularly dangerous about them?"

Well, he can see the teeth and - yes, claws, very good. But how tough is organic shell against Decepticon weaponry, and how strong are those claws?

"These smaller flying units are able to spew an acid which is more than capable of eating through Transformer armor," says Vector. "These larger ones here have plasma cannons. These scythes are capable of removing parts of one's person. The whole swarm is directed by a single mind, and none of them have any sense of self preservation. You will be regarded solely as something to consume, or failing that, destroy. And they are highly efficient in mobbing techniques. Also, the largest units possess enough physical strength to rend a slighter Transformer limb from limb."

He continues, detailing the strengths and weaknesses of the armor on the various different varieties as seen in the image. It seems that most are quite susceptible to the weaponry sported by the larger bots in the room, but the largest units must be hit in a weak spot while avoiding their grasp and firepower.

Edited 2010-01-17 18:42 (UTC)

Desinex's expression, which wasn't exactly 'friendly' or 'warm' to begin with, has slowly darkened as the descriptions of the enemy continued. It's not long before she's starting to pace around, tapping her claws against her arms in irritation.

"So we're basically going into what could turn into a suicide mission?"

WakeJumper's expression is grim, even as Chromia checks over her weapons. Perceptor also seems quite concerned.

"Can you think of anyone better?" Fallstreak points out with a smile. He's trying - really trying - to broadcast 'energetic and keen' instead of 'rampantly unstable'. As a result he wavers quietly between the two, never quite sure which he's being at the moment. "Anyway, I like an enemy that doesn't watch its back."

Movor looks at Optimus, mind slotting the information into place and moving on to what tactics she plans to employ. "So the cannon fodder rolls in first, cannon in back, and the mob tries to pin us down for the big ones? What's the ground like where we're going?"

"Suicide nothing," says Lumen, grinning very slightly as he rummages through one of his storage compartments and counts the contents.

"Farmland," says Optimus to Movor. "Flat for the most part, but with the remains of wooden buildings and trees in some places. And farm machinery, some of which is large enough to provide cover."

Then she looks at Desinex. "It could, but I think that's unlikely. Everyone who'll be going out there today knows what they're doing, right?"

For some reason her optics have gone to Fallstreak with that last word.

Desinex scowls a bit, before nodding and moving closer to Lumen to see what kind of goodies he's got on hand.

Chromia nods, before checking her own storage compartments and her weaponry, while also offering reassurances to Perceptor, who looks a tidge uncomfortable.

WakeJumper frowns, "In the event someone gets injured... What do I need to know about what we're going against to repair the injured?"

"Hmm." Movor nods slightly, trying to recall what he knows of farmland. He's encountered it before, and the cover sounds relatively sparse. Especially if the enemy's going to be spewing acid...

Fallstreak pulls himself a little straighter and folds his hands behind his back, optics wide and innocent as he nods. He's not sure why Optimus is looking at him, but he intends to relieve whatever her doubts may be. "We certainly will by the end of this briefing, won't we sir?" he murmurs.

He can't help his optics flicking to the other bots by her side. Her gaze seems to have drawn the shuttle's attention to him, which is further cause to be unnerved...

Oh, and that's a good question from Wakejumper. He has no trouble listening for that answer. How would you not listen to what types of injuries might lie in store?

"If you're badly damaged I want you teleporting out of there and to the med lab," says Optimus promptly, even as she nods absently to Fallstreak. "T-AI will help you. The plasma is fairly standard, the acid will need to be neutralized as quickly as possible with a strong base. WakeJumper, how much battlefield experience do you have?"

"Napalm grenade?" Lumen offers his alternate aunt.

"That depends... Direct combat... I've had my share of that... hard not to with the team I used to be a part of... But in more recent times... I've been more the medic than actually fighting..." WakeJumper frowns a bit at having to admit that.

Desinex's grin is far from what anyone would likely call 'sane' as she accepts the grenade from Lumen.

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Mission, Possible?

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