.003 ← Text Files; Video || Untraceable Portal Signature || Soundwave discovers his Place of Solace
[ There is no coordinates on the short video feed, but a timestamp does appear at the lower right hand corner. It's only the image of the Nemesis, though, just...floating. Yes, that's a fully capable Decepticon warship floating somewhere off the coast of Promenade. ]
( Read more... )
( Read more... )
And neither does Rinzler. But, the provocation makes a nice, cold, calm anger settle over Soundwave anyway.
In fact, it's enough to make him rethink his original plan, and from his station on the command deck, relay a command to one of the coolant hatches to unlock. It might even seem like a regular operation as small salvage, and scrap drones begin begin clearing out the congealed engine coolant, and the scraping the faint traces of rust off the hinges. That hatch even closes, and seals again once before the adjacent hatch above it ( just large enough for a slender adult to squeeze through ) opens, and the little show starts all over again. It will, in fact, repeat all the way up the line of vents ( all connected to the same piping like a sieve ) if Rinzler doesn't take advantage of it soon.
That's it, little program...come on in. ]
Reply
The mech's own attempts at bait remain... fairly obvious. Rinzler's not familiar enough with Cybertronian ship design to know what is and isn't normal. But after one opening's been marked as threat, to have more cycling open immediately after? It doesn't help that every drone Rinzler's seen so far has had detection capabilities.
Still. Trap, threat. Probable. That doesn't mean there's nothing to be gained. The program waits, watches the pattern, sound rumbling out evenly. One hand forward, one behind-a pause, calculation and timing falling into alignment. Then the baton snaps together, disk jerking from its dock with a sharp hum of hyperactivity. The jet derezzes, and the program drops towards the closing hatch weapon-first, adding momentum to his own force as the orange disk digs into the hinges, cutting the vent's cover free entirely.
Don't worry, Soundwave. Rinzler will play your Game. But he's not going in without an exit. Besides, he doubts a quieter entrance would have gone unnoticed.]
Reply
The entire Nemesis is, naturally, built to Cybertronain standards, and as such? Even the maintenance tunnels, and access ports are all much larger than human standards. It's by this virtue alone that Rinzler can even fit through the removed hatch. Once inside, though, all of said hatches open onto the same walled tunnel leading up into the ship itself. Pointedly at a very steep incline.
In fact, there's solid plating throughout ( no access to any important, fiddly bits of wiring ) as the tunnel proceeds up, and up, and after two ( suspiciously ) blocked off adjacent tunnels, empties on a nest of salvage and scrap drones. Those are cleaning crew, really, but their optics feed back to Soundwave as a matter of course. Still they will ignore Rinzler as long as he isn't trying to track mud into their cleaning area.
The drones nest also has one major artery leading to the drone's access port within the hallways of the ship itself. It's lower decks - leisure, and engineering - but every single one of those doors is code-locked against intrusion. Soundwave has turned the Nemesis into a maze, and laid out a "bread crumb trail" of little scrap drones marching up, and down the singular, cavernous hallway like a line of knee-high ants. ]
Reply
He continues up. The drone nest gets a cursory glance, red-orange streaks along his helmet angling as he examines the devices. Rinzler has no doubt he's being observed in return-but there's little purpose blinding these eyes when Soundwave can supply more in the area. Rinzler knows well enough the mech has other, less obvious, mobile surveillance.
When the program comes out to find the lower decks equally sealed... he's past irritation. The mask tips slowly across the passage, closed doors hemming in a path-a trail to follow. But whatever Soundwave thinks, the program's hardly a drone to run unquestioning through his little maze. And Rinzler might be willing to play the mech's Games... but that's not what he came for.
Reaching the nearest access panel is almost as much trouble as bypassing it. But an upward run and the traction of his disks manage the first issue with only some difficulty, and what he learned from Knock Out's systems helps well enough with the second. It takes a few micros, but the massive door splits open. The space inside is large-furnished, but otherwise empty. While a spike of energy does register further in, there's no presence or active signature. The program steps cautiously inside, ticking rumble echoing strangely against the cold metal walls.]
Reply
On the far side, steps rise up to another set of doors - these are left open - and the officer's lounge beyond. The bar, and walls sport a fully stocked bar with everything from low-grade to concentrated high-grade energon.
Not much of tactical use, really.
...But some of those time delay commands activate at this particular moment, shutting down the lighting in the hallway one after another like a wall of shadow moving like a wave down the hallway, and into the lounge. ]
Reply
The program's returned to the main room and already considering another passage when the dimming outside becomes evident. Rinzler tenses, hand reaching back for his docked weapons-and the blackout hits. One moment full visuals, the next only the light of his circuits, and a fading glow in the distance as lights further down the passage darken in turn.
His disk comes free with a jerk, and the program looks around, growl low and regular. While sufficient on the Grid at need, the sparse lights from his suit do a poor job of visibility in this environment, the high walls and wide spaces stretching away into blackness, with only a small radius unshadowed in red-orange glow. Rinzler pauses, calculates-then blacks out his circuits, pushing power to passive scans instead to feel the space around him. The difference in his own perception is negligible like this, and entering probable combat as the only light source is less than advantageous.
The program turns, steps quick and silent as he re-emerges to the long hallway, slips forward along it, aural sensors heightened, weapon in hand. Not retreat-not yet. He knows he's at a disadvantage, in this place. But Rinzler's not interested in giving up the Game so quickly. And he's curious what the mech's next move will be.]
Reply
In fact, even in the darkness, the 'tink, tink, tink' sound of little cleaning drone's legs up, and down the hall is the only audible sound...even when that same line of tiny salvage drones turn, as a force, and begin to dogpile Rinzler. Oh, they aren't combat equipped really, so it would be no trouble to get them off, but there's a vast number of them, and they're not meant to stop him. Only slow him down...and get him to draw both disks again.
Here, Rinzler, have dozens of metallic claws trying to grab onto your limbs, an pull you down to the floor with them. All of it in the dark. ]
Reply
The drones are a problem. Easy enough to follow. Easy enough to fight. Darkness is hardly a difficulty when he can track by motion, sound, energy. And he has observed them with sight as well, knows how to map echoes to skittering legs, flickers of movement tracing the reach of swiping claws. The program's faster. Incomparably more skilled. But this fight is not to his advantage. Rinzler slips back as more drones enter scanning range, attention staying on the wider area. These creatures aren't true threats, and the satisfaction of derezzing them isn't worth distraction, here.
Of course, he can hardly ignore them, either. Proximity to the wall limits the direction of attack, but they're still coming, closing. The program parries a claw, forfeits surrounding data for a quick scan above-there. Calculation, assessment, and he reaches down. Baton, not disk. The program flicks the rod upwards, and a bright orange cable streaks out, coiling around a power conduit halfway up the wall. The enforcer runs up the flat surface, a tug and a flip taking him around to land in a crouch. The metal surface is a thin line by Cybertronian standards, but wide enough for the smaller program. He doesn't waste time moving, running forward across the top of the conduit as it follows the hallway's turns. No point in staying still to wait for the next threat. And Soundwave's not the only one hunting.]
Reply
Inventive little program, using the cabling as a platform to gain a clear path, but once again Rinzler is hemmed in by the attachment to the wall, and unless he wants to risk the floor again, when that cabling twists, and turns through the warren of wide hallways, he must follow it. It leads, eventually, to engineering, and blast doors, and code locks or not, that simply will not do.
And so Soundwave, finally begins to set up his endgame.
The cabling moves through one more set of airlock doors - safety measures in case of a catastrophic hull breach - but whether Rinzler chooses to go through that set of doors, or no, the hallway dead ends into a lift. The clicking legs of drones, both on the floor below, and now climbing the sheer walls as they are want to do when reaching the overhead lighting, Rinzler is being corralled.
Make your choice, little program; the lift, or the drones? ]
Reply
The lift doors block the path ahead, and the program's dash comes to a quick halt. He stares, registers the override controls to the side, splits his disks and sends a quick cast arcing down to drop a climbing drone. Even if he wanted to follow this path, trying to access the interface while dealing with the mass of drones...
...isn't necessary. Proximity activates them, and the doors slide back. In the darkness, it's hard to tell what's there from this angle, scans only reaching partway across the lift's floor and wall. A large space (though what isn't, here?). Empty, at first inspection. Though he almost thinks he can see something. A faint glow?
Rinzler focuses down at the swarm of drones. He can handle them. But being pinned down against weak opponents is not what he wants now. The program turns back towards the open lift, detection carefully ahead-and jumps. Falls as he moves forward, rebounds off the other side of the lift doorway to twist aside, drop into the space with a roll, disks in either hand. Attention sharp, sensors snapping up, around-]
Reply
Rinzler was on the floor of the lift, but the doors stay open, the the drones...stop. Chittering, and clicking just beyond the threshold. And in the darkness, from above the faint violet glow of Soundwave's circuits shed the only light there is in this section of the ship. He was flexible enough, and strong enough to hold himself up in the ceiling by one "hand" and "feet" alone, thus it's three separate feelers that leave their docks, and snap out, viper-fast, for the locking 'fingers' on the ends to grab at each of Rinzler's wrists, with one tentacle snapping out to coil around the program's legs. ]
Reply
One feeler misses its mark entirely. The second? Doesn't. The program's circuits flare back in bright orange agitation as a metal talon clamps on his right wrist, halting his momentum. He's quick enough to curve back fluidly from the arrested jump, draw away somewhat from the other reaching coil, legs tangled, but not caught. Rinzler keeps in motion, swivels around the grasp to strike in with his second disk, sever the latching appendages at the feeler's tip. Get out. His attention's upwards too, noise a quick and vicious growl as his gaze flicks to his opponent directly.
This is the fight he wanted. If not how he'd planned to start it.]
Reply
It's easier, for the moment, to track the obscenely fast, and agile program from where he is, so Soundwave isn't moving.
He does, however, let the speakers installed on either side of his helm screech out a high-pitched, static-laced burst of frequency in an effort to throw off Rinzler's targeting systems. If he could just get a hold on those arms, and restrain movement the rest would fall into place. ]
Reply
Three coils become four, five, many. Rinzler's hardly tracking individual attacks as a sea of shifting metal surrounds him. It's reflex, motion-duck a grasping claw, twist aside as a coil snakes around, push above, slash out around, drop below. He needs to move. Needs to close, attack the target, not its peripherals.
The burst of static wrecks through his processing, sheer volume sending sensors to overload before functions cut in, auditory input halting to protect him. Just nanos of lag. But still lag, still error, and a swiping tendril catches him in the side, slams the program against the hard metal wall. There's a gap as it pulls back, before more coils snake in to press the attack, and Rinzler glares up at the dim purple of the mech's faceplate, angles a quick upward toss, white-edged disk burning bright with ready violence as it tears through the space between.]
Reply
One captured.
That just left reeling the burning, painful little thing up out of the program's immediate reach, though Soundwave is forced to undock an eighth feeler to play hot potato with the active disk between the two. He was running out of the less-sensitive, combat capable feeler tips to use, and one was already wounded. Just need to stall a bit more so the preoccupied others could make one more grab, in concert, for wrists, and legs. ]
Reply
No.
Rinzler's focus freezes to a sharp point. Not on the deflection. Not on the swarming mass of feelers, though he'd be hard pressed to avoid them in such close proximity.
On. His. Disk.
Not just averted, not just batted aside. Retrieved. (NO.) The program's empty hand snaps down, sound a furious snarl as he flings it back up in an arc. His disk was taken/(stolen)/changed and that could not happen-he wouldn't let it, wouldn't-
The coils slam down around him, and motion's well and truly quelled, if only for the moment. But though he's twisting, struggling in sharp bursts of rage against the holds now pinning him at wrist and shoulder, the feelers now pressing legs and body down against the ground... that's not where Rinzler's attention is. The mask stays fixed upward. On the disk. But also on the path of motion. From that second toss. Three smaller circles, still glowing bright red-orange, tossed to latch onto the upper reaches of the coils. They're flat, not edged, though they clamp on contact. And their outer rings of light? Are moving. A bright circle tracing its way around, flashing once with a short beep, and-
Well. He'd meant to save those.]
Reply
Leave a comment