Vectoring, - G1 (PG)
Chapter: Episode 8: Vectoring
Title: Thundercracker and the Three Seeklets
Rating: PG
Warnings: crackfic
Summary: Thundercracker takes the Seeklets out for a little navigation practice.
Previous chapters:
Ep 1: Taser's New Friend, Ep 2: A Sticky Situation, Ep 3: Fingerpainting, Ep 4: Field Trip Part 1, Ep 5: Field Trip Part 2, Ep 6: Beginnings, Ep 7: Flying Lessons
Set a few weeks after Field Trip.
x-xxx-x
“Now, update your telemetry data - Taser! Get back here!” Thundercracker waited for the little yellow jet to flit back into formation. “Focus!”
“Sorry,” Taser radioed back sheepishly. “It was shiny,” he muttered to the other two.
The four jets were flying over an empty expanse of desert, practicing the seeker art of vectors and dead reckoning. The open area had the advantage of high visibility and few distractions for the hyperactive sparklings.
“Alright, verify your coordinates using GPS. We’ll use that as a starting point for the next exercise.”
“My coordinates keep changing,” Scritch complained.
Thundercracker mustered his patience. “That’s because you’re moving.”
“…Oh.”
“Everyone got their coordinates? Now-”
“There’s something down there!” Taser drifted out of formation again.
“Yeah, rocks,” muttered Stick. “Taser, your wash is getting in my intakes! Again!” Stick pulled up to get above Taser.
“No, look!”
“Hey, I see it too!” Scritch called.
Thundercracker checked his scanners. Whatever was making the dust cloud, it was worth at least a quick pass. “Alright you three, I want you to maintain speed and continue on this heading for five klicks. You will then turn northwards two-nine degrees, and proceed on the new heading for twenty klicks. Then you will land on the hilltop and wait for me. Got it?”
“Five klicks, north two-nine degrees, twenty klicks,” Scritch recited back. “Okay!”
That should keep them busy and out of the way, just in case this turns into a firefight, Thundercracker thought as he peeled away.
The sparklings flew for a few kilometers in silence.
“Uh, guys?” Taser asked suddenly as they neared the turning point. “Was that twenty-nine degrees, or two nine-degree turns?”
Silence met his question.
“… Maybe it was two-plus-nine degrees?”
“That’s so not helpful, Stick,” Scritch complained.
“We’re almost to the turn,” Taser warned them. “We gotta figure it out.”
“Should we radio Thundercracker?” Scritch asked hesitantly.
There was a pause, as they listened to the weaponry firing in the distance. “… I think he’s busy,” Stick muttered.
“He said two nine degrees, so let’s turn north nine degrees twice,” Taser decided.
x-x-x
Thundercracker growled to himself as he kicked on his afterburners and sped north. Slagging Autobots. They’re like cyber-rats, you can’t even run a training mission without tripping over them.
And Primus only knows what sorts of mischief the brats have gotten themselves into, Thundercracker noted dryly as he approached the rendezvous point.
He pulled up sharply. The hillside was bare and empty, devoid of thruster-burns or landing skid marks.
Slag it all.
x-x-x
“Guys, I Don’t see a hill,” Scritch pointed out.
“… Maybe we missed it?” Taser suggested uncertainly.
“Nuh-uh, I was watching.”
“I told you it was two-plus-nine degrees,” Stick said smugly.
“Okay…” Taser thought hard. “So, if we turned too far north, we should turn South to correct? Let’s go South nine degrees twice, then twenty klicks back, and then turn two-and-nine degrees. That should put us on the right heading. I’m so smart!”
Stick blew exhaust at his wingmate.
A few minutes of careful counting and arguing later, they set off again.
“… I still don’t see any hills,” Stick said after a while.
“Me either,” muttered Scritch.
“Maybe it moved?” Taser ventured.
“Hills don’t move, dork,” Scritch huffed, scanning the area again.
“How do you know?” Taser asked defensively. “They might! Have you ever watched a hill to make sure?”
“Hills don’t move! And I’ll prove it!” Scritch paused. “Soon as I find one.”
“Maybe we haven’t gone far enough?” Taser looked around uncertainly.
“Maybe we should just call Thundercracker.”
“…Yeah,” Taser agreed reluctantly.
“Uh, Thundercracker? I think we’re lost,” Scritch radioed.
They waited. Silence.
“Maybe we’re out of range?” she suggested in a small voice.
“What is our range?”
“’Bout twenty miles.”
“… We’re going to be in so much trouble,” Taser said unhappily.
x-x-x
“West is clear,” Slingshot reported, transforming and landing in a skid. “Looks like it was just Thundercracker.” The Harrier sounded annoyed at being denied a chance at the other seekers.
Jazz nodded. “It’s possible he was out scoutin’ alone. Alright, call Skydive back, and let’s head in. We’ll - Wait.” Jazz frowned, looking up. “What’s tha’?”
Weapons came up as three brightly colored shapes dropped out of the sky, aiming straight for the Autobot patrol.
“We’re saved!” crowed Taser, pulling up.
“People!” Scritch zipped up to Slingshot, transforming to beam happily at the Aerialbot.
“Finally,” Stick muttered, dropping to sit on Trailbreaker’s hood.
The Autobots stared in surprise.
“Hi!” Taser greeted the red and white jet. “We’re lost!”
“Uh…” For perhaps the first time in his life, Slingshot found himself at a loss for words.
Bluestreak grinned and stepped forward to rescue the Aerialbot. “Hey, guys!”
The three sparklings turned and looked at Bluestreak. “We’re not supposed to talk to strangers,” Stick informed him.
“I’m not a stranger! You guys know me!” Bluestreak protested.
Stick stared at him for a long moment. “Dude, they don’t get stranger than you.”
There was a strangled noise from Jazz as he tried not to laugh.
Taser waved his arms to get everyone’s attention again. “So Thundercracker said to go two-nine degrees, so we made two nine-degree turns, then we went twenty klicks like he said, and no hill. So we went a bit further, and still no hill. Then Stick said it was two-plus-nine degrees, so we went South nine degrees twice, then twenty klicks back, then two plus nine degrees, and still no hill! And now we’re here.” Taser looked up at Slingshot expectantly. “Where are we?”
“Way off course,” Slingshot answered, feeling off balance.
“I guess we know why Thundercracker was out here,” Jazz murmured, amused.
Bluestreak frowned. “Wait, you won’t talk to me, but you’ll talk to him? You’ve never met him!”
Stick gave Bluestreak a look. “Dude, he’s got wings.”
“That’s a weird place for a nosecone,” Scritch informed Slingshot, flitting around to poke at it. She flopped across his shoulder, eyeing the jet parts on his back. “Why’s your cockpit back there?”
“It’s where?” Taser frowned, plopping himself on Slingshot’s other shoulder for a look. “Weird!” He stuck his head back around to look Slingshot in the face. “Why’s your wings on backwards?”
“My wings are just fine!” Annoyed, Slingshot caught Taser’s foot and yanked him off, tossing the little jet to one side.
“Slingshot!” Bluestreak was scandalized by the callous motion.
Taser, however, seemed completely unperturbed, flitting back to land on Slingshot’s head.
A burst of laughter alerted Slingshot to his gestalt-mate’s ever-so-timely arrival, much to his chagrin.
“Wait till Air Raid hears about this,” Skydive managed, still laughing.
“Oh, shut up,” Slingshot grumbled. I’m never going to live this down… He grabbed the two miniature seekers, unceremoniously dropping them both on the ground. Growling to himself, Slingshot transformed and took off.
Taser and Scritch climbed up to sit next to Stick. “Dude!” Stick said in awe, “Did you see that? He went straight up!”
The other two nodded. “We should ask if he can go backwards, too,” Taser said, jumping to his feet.
“He’s going too fast,” Stick pointed out, not bothering to get up. “You’ll never catch him.”
Taser sat down. “Oh, yeah.”
They looked at each other, then over at Skydive. “Hi. We’re lost.” Stick poked at Trailbreaker’s windshield wipers while Taser told Skydive his rather confused and jumbled version of the story. The black SUV twitched, trying hard not to laugh.
“Would you happen to have the coordinates?” Skydive asked when he was done, shooting Jazz an uncertain look. Jazz just shrugged back at him, grinning.
“Of course not. We hadn’t got there yet!” Scritch shook her head. “Silly Autobot.”
“No coordinates,” Skydive sighed.
“Nope. Just the ones where we started,” Scritch said. “But those won’t help, because we don’t know where we’re supposed to go from there.”
Trailbreaker’s engine made a sort of cough as he suppressed laughter.
x-x-x
“Here you go,” Skydive said, landing on the hilltop. “Now just stay right here, so Thundercracker can find you.
Three little sets of optics peered up at him. “Okay,” they said.
Stick looked at the others as the Aerialbot left. “Autobots are so weird. Don’t they know how to add? Two-plus-nine is not twenty nine.”
x-x-x
Thundercracker growled in frustration, swinging around for one last check of the rendezvous point. He’d scoured the entire area, even spotting the Autobot patrol on its way back, but found no sign of the three brats.
Slag it, where could they - he pulled up. There, sitting calmly as could be on the designated hilltop, were three brightly-colored shapes, doodling pictures in the dirt.
They looked up as he landed. “What took you so long?” asked Stick.
Title: Thundercracker and the Three Seeklets
Rating: PG
Warnings: crackfic
Summary: Thundercracker takes the Seeklets out for a little navigation practice.
Previous chapters:
Ep 1: Taser's New Friend, Ep 2: A Sticky Situation, Ep 3: Fingerpainting, Ep 4: Field Trip Part 1, Ep 5: Field Trip Part 2, Ep 6: Beginnings, Ep 7: Flying Lessons
Set a few weeks after Field Trip.
x-xxx-x
“Now, update your telemetry data - Taser! Get back here!” Thundercracker waited for the little yellow jet to flit back into formation. “Focus!”
“Sorry,” Taser radioed back sheepishly. “It was shiny,” he muttered to the other two.
The four jets were flying over an empty expanse of desert, practicing the seeker art of vectors and dead reckoning. The open area had the advantage of high visibility and few distractions for the hyperactive sparklings.
“Alright, verify your coordinates using GPS. We’ll use that as a starting point for the next exercise.”
“My coordinates keep changing,” Scritch complained.
Thundercracker mustered his patience. “That’s because you’re moving.”
“…Oh.”
“Everyone got their coordinates? Now-”
“There’s something down there!” Taser drifted out of formation again.
“Yeah, rocks,” muttered Stick. “Taser, your wash is getting in my intakes! Again!” Stick pulled up to get above Taser.
“No, look!”
“Hey, I see it too!” Scritch called.
Thundercracker checked his scanners. Whatever was making the dust cloud, it was worth at least a quick pass. “Alright you three, I want you to maintain speed and continue on this heading for five klicks. You will then turn northwards two-nine degrees, and proceed on the new heading for twenty klicks. Then you will land on the hilltop and wait for me. Got it?”
“Five klicks, north two-nine degrees, twenty klicks,” Scritch recited back. “Okay!”
That should keep them busy and out of the way, just in case this turns into a firefight, Thundercracker thought as he peeled away.
The sparklings flew for a few kilometers in silence.
“Uh, guys?” Taser asked suddenly as they neared the turning point. “Was that twenty-nine degrees, or two nine-degree turns?”
Silence met his question.
“… Maybe it was two-plus-nine degrees?”
“That’s so not helpful, Stick,” Scritch complained.
“We’re almost to the turn,” Taser warned them. “We gotta figure it out.”
“Should we radio Thundercracker?” Scritch asked hesitantly.
There was a pause, as they listened to the weaponry firing in the distance. “… I think he’s busy,” Stick muttered.
“He said two nine degrees, so let’s turn north nine degrees twice,” Taser decided.
x-x-x
Thundercracker growled to himself as he kicked on his afterburners and sped north. Slagging Autobots. They’re like cyber-rats, you can’t even run a training mission without tripping over them.
And Primus only knows what sorts of mischief the brats have gotten themselves into, Thundercracker noted dryly as he approached the rendezvous point.
He pulled up sharply. The hillside was bare and empty, devoid of thruster-burns or landing skid marks.
Slag it all.
x-x-x
“Guys, I Don’t see a hill,” Scritch pointed out.
“… Maybe we missed it?” Taser suggested uncertainly.
“Nuh-uh, I was watching.”
“I told you it was two-plus-nine degrees,” Stick said smugly.
“Okay…” Taser thought hard. “So, if we turned too far north, we should turn South to correct? Let’s go South nine degrees twice, then twenty klicks back, and then turn two-and-nine degrees. That should put us on the right heading. I’m so smart!”
Stick blew exhaust at his wingmate.
A few minutes of careful counting and arguing later, they set off again.
“… I still don’t see any hills,” Stick said after a while.
“Me either,” muttered Scritch.
“Maybe it moved?” Taser ventured.
“Hills don’t move, dork,” Scritch huffed, scanning the area again.
“How do you know?” Taser asked defensively. “They might! Have you ever watched a hill to make sure?”
“Hills don’t move! And I’ll prove it!” Scritch paused. “Soon as I find one.”
“Maybe we haven’t gone far enough?” Taser looked around uncertainly.
“Maybe we should just call Thundercracker.”
“…Yeah,” Taser agreed reluctantly.
“Uh, Thundercracker? I think we’re lost,” Scritch radioed.
They waited. Silence.
“Maybe we’re out of range?” she suggested in a small voice.
“What is our range?”
“’Bout twenty miles.”
“… We’re going to be in so much trouble,” Taser said unhappily.
x-x-x
“West is clear,” Slingshot reported, transforming and landing in a skid. “Looks like it was just Thundercracker.” The Harrier sounded annoyed at being denied a chance at the other seekers.
Jazz nodded. “It’s possible he was out scoutin’ alone. Alright, call Skydive back, and let’s head in. We’ll - Wait.” Jazz frowned, looking up. “What’s tha’?”
Weapons came up as three brightly colored shapes dropped out of the sky, aiming straight for the Autobot patrol.
“We’re saved!” crowed Taser, pulling up.
“People!” Scritch zipped up to Slingshot, transforming to beam happily at the Aerialbot.
“Finally,” Stick muttered, dropping to sit on Trailbreaker’s hood.
The Autobots stared in surprise.
“Hi!” Taser greeted the red and white jet. “We’re lost!”
“Uh…” For perhaps the first time in his life, Slingshot found himself at a loss for words.
Bluestreak grinned and stepped forward to rescue the Aerialbot. “Hey, guys!”
The three sparklings turned and looked at Bluestreak. “We’re not supposed to talk to strangers,” Stick informed him.
“I’m not a stranger! You guys know me!” Bluestreak protested.
Stick stared at him for a long moment. “Dude, they don’t get stranger than you.”
There was a strangled noise from Jazz as he tried not to laugh.
Taser waved his arms to get everyone’s attention again. “So Thundercracker said to go two-nine degrees, so we made two nine-degree turns, then we went twenty klicks like he said, and no hill. So we went a bit further, and still no hill. Then Stick said it was two-plus-nine degrees, so we went South nine degrees twice, then twenty klicks back, then two plus nine degrees, and still no hill! And now we’re here.” Taser looked up at Slingshot expectantly. “Where are we?”
“Way off course,” Slingshot answered, feeling off balance.
“I guess we know why Thundercracker was out here,” Jazz murmured, amused.
Bluestreak frowned. “Wait, you won’t talk to me, but you’ll talk to him? You’ve never met him!”
Stick gave Bluestreak a look. “Dude, he’s got wings.”
“That’s a weird place for a nosecone,” Scritch informed Slingshot, flitting around to poke at it. She flopped across his shoulder, eyeing the jet parts on his back. “Why’s your cockpit back there?”
“It’s where?” Taser frowned, plopping himself on Slingshot’s other shoulder for a look. “Weird!” He stuck his head back around to look Slingshot in the face. “Why’s your wings on backwards?”
“My wings are just fine!” Annoyed, Slingshot caught Taser’s foot and yanked him off, tossing the little jet to one side.
“Slingshot!” Bluestreak was scandalized by the callous motion.
Taser, however, seemed completely unperturbed, flitting back to land on Slingshot’s head.
A burst of laughter alerted Slingshot to his gestalt-mate’s ever-so-timely arrival, much to his chagrin.
“Wait till Air Raid hears about this,” Skydive managed, still laughing.
“Oh, shut up,” Slingshot grumbled. I’m never going to live this down… He grabbed the two miniature seekers, unceremoniously dropping them both on the ground. Growling to himself, Slingshot transformed and took off.
Taser and Scritch climbed up to sit next to Stick. “Dude!” Stick said in awe, “Did you see that? He went straight up!”
The other two nodded. “We should ask if he can go backwards, too,” Taser said, jumping to his feet.
“He’s going too fast,” Stick pointed out, not bothering to get up. “You’ll never catch him.”
Taser sat down. “Oh, yeah.”
They looked at each other, then over at Skydive. “Hi. We’re lost.” Stick poked at Trailbreaker’s windshield wipers while Taser told Skydive his rather confused and jumbled version of the story. The black SUV twitched, trying hard not to laugh.
“Would you happen to have the coordinates?” Skydive asked when he was done, shooting Jazz an uncertain look. Jazz just shrugged back at him, grinning.
“Of course not. We hadn’t got there yet!” Scritch shook her head. “Silly Autobot.”
“No coordinates,” Skydive sighed.
“Nope. Just the ones where we started,” Scritch said. “But those won’t help, because we don’t know where we’re supposed to go from there.”
Trailbreaker’s engine made a sort of cough as he suppressed laughter.
x-x-x
“Here you go,” Skydive said, landing on the hilltop. “Now just stay right here, so Thundercracker can find you.
Three little sets of optics peered up at him. “Okay,” they said.
Stick looked at the others as the Aerialbot left. “Autobots are so weird. Don’t they know how to add? Two-plus-nine is not twenty nine.”
x-x-x
Thundercracker growled in frustration, swinging around for one last check of the rendezvous point. He’d scoured the entire area, even spotting the Autobot patrol on its way back, but found no sign of the three brats.
Slag it, where could they - he pulled up. There, sitting calmly as could be on the designated hilltop, were three brightly-colored shapes, doodling pictures in the dirt.
They looked up as he landed. “What took you so long?” asked Stick.