(Untitled)

[victordrath]

Drath, though he may not know the proper terminology for it, is well aware that he is in deep, deep slag.

His surveillance -- now extremely limited, due to the fact that they were on to him and took many, many precautions -- shows they already figured out both the human-thing and the slave trade thing. Already. He had vaguely wondered if they

Comments

[navigatorsghost]

((Eek! Split group! Please can we get these three back into the loop somehow later? I wanted to see the amount of mayhem Galvatron could cause in a slaver's arena...^_^))

[victordrath]

((Oh, really? Sorry. I was trying to figure out how to lure Duskwing away. Give me a bit to see what I can do n_n))

[navigatorsghost]

((That's okay. If Duskwing sets them free, they've got a ship and can charge straight back in. ^_^))

[chaos_gunner]

*Unicronian sparks don't do well in human bodies, it appears. Galvatron has been unconscious for some time now, only the odd twitch and shudder of his strangely-shaped new form betraying any trace of life. But when the shuttle launches, the thrum of engines and the pull of G-forces draws him back to the waking world, spacer instincts responding to the familiarity of it even in these deeply changed circumstances...*

*blinks awake*

Aahh... *groans*

...Cyclonus?! Scourge?

((How do you want them to be tied up? Ropes? Chains, like the Autobots had? Or what?))

[firstlieutenant]

*there is a faint, pained moan from Galvatron's right*

...Galvatron? My lord... I'm here. *he falters, shocked by the sound of his own voice robbed of its normal resonance and power, though it's still deep by human standards*

Mighty one... what happened?

[hidden_watcher]

What... what he said. *Scourge blinks, wincing*

...Galvatron? *and there's a whole universe of meaning in that nervously-spoken name, are you there, are you hurt, are we dead, I trust you, please fix this...*

[chaos_gunner]

*encouraged by the discovery that everyone is still looking at him for a miracle - isn't that his job? - Galvatron moves as though to reach out to both his lieutenants, to touch, to reassure, to set about doing something...*

*...and that's when he becomes consciously aware of the fact that he's no longer strong enough to snap his way out of common steel chains.*

*body tenses, eyes going wide* *yanks his wrist against jis fetters hard enough that he gasps at the pain as the steel digs in*

WHAT?!

Chains? WHO DARES DO THIS! *looks toward the front of the shuttle, where the cockpit is, where their captors ought to be*

Show yourselves, cowards! Unchain me and face me if you dare! Do you know who I am?!

*gasps for breath, visibly shaking, eyes wide and wild. Don't call it a panic attack if you want to live... but Galvatron really, really doesn't like restraints.*

[stupidityinblue]

The rumble of shuttle engines warming up snaps Duskwing out of his happy frenzy of destruction. He drops the cable he's holding.

The kid! How long have I been at this? Slag it, shouldn't have taken so long! Scrap, I wanted to get the main power and commo here, too. Oh well, they're using radios anyway, can't get those.

The ghost plunges back through walls and floors to the hallway where he'd left Daniel Witwicky. To Duskwing's horror, the false ceiling panels have all been torn down, some violently--and there's no sign of Daniel.

Oh, slag. I told him I'd come back, why didn't he--slag. I took too long. Slag, slag, slag!

He whirls and flies swiftly down the hall to the cell where he'd left Galvatron, an invisible, spectral wind that chills a couple of Drath's lackeys to the bone as he flies through them.

The cell is empty. Dusking stares at it in blank dismay, what few plans he had falling apart around him.

What happened?

Belatedly, the significance of the rumbling shuttle engines creeps into his mind.

SLAG!Transforming into

[stupidityinblue]

As he concentrates on pursuing the wedge-shaped Victory class interplanetary shuttle1, Duskwing slips into his usual flying mode--a semi-transparent blue and purple F-15 jet with the speed of an SR-71--or rather, a Decepticon Seeker. The bainshee wail of Duskwing's engines doesn't taper off as he climbs into the vanishingly thin upper atmosphere after the shuttle, nor does the lack of oxygen seem to slow his engines in the least.

Escape velocity is not an issue for Duskwing; gravity has no claim on him. It is an issue for the shuttle; the acceleration necessary to achieve orbit and escape orbit gives it a maximum delta-V far in excess of a Seeker's top atmospheric speed. Unfortunately for the shuttle crew, its acceleration is only a fourth of the Seeker's; at first, the spectral jet rapidly overhauls it.

Got ya now!

Too soon. Duskwing hits his top living speed, and the shuttle continues to accelerate into orbit, pulling away from him. Dismay fills him; he's going to fail. Again.

NO! I'm not going to lose them again! Slag it! I'm

[hidden_watcher]

*jumps, shivers, looks up*

Did anyone feel that?

[firstlieutenant]

*blinks at him* Feel what, Scourge?

*is mostly worried about how they're going to get out of the chains, and in particular how they're going to get Galvatron out of the chains given that he seems willing to skin his wrists to the bone trying...*