<Decepticon> Cinderblock says, "*SCREeeeEEEE* I see autobot defense fortifications, and I've got some people on my IFF. You need help?"

<Decepticon> Arachnae says, "Hmmm.... Mental note to self.. We really should clear the vermin out. Too close to home for comfort."

<Decepticon> Cinderblock says, "Roger on that. I want to decorate my quarters with the guts of that defense system."

<Decepticon> Arachnae says, "Decorate as you wish, I need a few gifts for Scrapper. Cheer him up some."

"So I saw," Fleet replies as he slows to match, not even bothering to acknowledge Cinderblock's departure. "This is seriously something we should do something about, and soon, but..." the seeker hesitates, seeing it as above his station to make recommendations to command. He's flying behind and a little to the left of Arachnae, and the two are taking a somewhat leisurely pace. <repose for Cate>

Voidcraft (Arachnae) straightens her flight and matches Fleet's speed. "But you're not front line, Fleet and arn't sure what you should say to me?" pause, laughter in her voice. "You and I do seem to go out and get into some interesting situations. At my insistence, I know."

F-35 <Catechism> is out on patrol? Yeah, sure. And she's just going to go check on that yellow pyramid jet and that blue voidcraft, because you never know, those wacky Autobots might have whipped up disguises that make them look just like Trooper Fleet and Colonel Arachnae. And let them fly. Stupid flying Autobots.

"More like I'm not sure I should be the one to recommend a course of action or attack to my own command, Arachnae," Fleet replies, tilting a little just... just because. "After all, getting them out of there is the job of Mil-Ops, but it's hardly a feat I'm capable of on my own." As Catechism approaches he radios a greeting to her, over appropriate Decepticon frequencies. "Ah, greetings, Catechism. Are we on your patrol route?"

F-35 <Catechism> changes her directional vectors to trail Fleet and Arachnae, first doing a slight turn back the way she came to make sure nothing is following her. The coast seems clear, so she follows after the other two. The F-35 radios back, "Indeed. You two are...?"

Voidcraft (Arachnae) chuckles over the radio, "We-eell.." drawing the word out.. "We're patroling, shaking down my engines aaand looking for a spot to have some aerial entertainment."

Sure, there are plenty of tetrajets in the Empire, but just how many are pastel yellow? And there can't be /that/ many... whatever Arachnae is. "Catechism, it's me, Fleet. And it's as she said... we're out for a fly, but trying to get something useful done at the same time."

F-35 <Catechism> knew he was Fleet! Mostly. She was asking what he was doing, but there we go again - standard Seekers and coneheads really have no idea what the other side is thinking. It's funny how much of a difference a tiny little design change makes. She replies, "But isn't going for a fly always useful?"

Arachnae has disconnected.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) answers, "Well, yes, but it's even more useful if you're checking out how dug in the enemy's getting in what should be /our/ territory." The seeker flies on in silence for a moment before adding, "And the answer is, too much." He hesitates. "Someone should perhaps recommend an assult against the Autobots in the warrens."

F-35 <Catechism> dips. It cannot quite be called a proper dive, being far too shallow and slow, but it may perhaps remind one of a porpoise. She puts on a bit of speed, what with the loss of altitude, and slashes forward, now flying underneath Fleet. Hesitantly, the F-35 says, "I'm sure DCI's on it. Then again, Colonel Comcast was... busy on Earth for a while. They may be somewhat out of sorts for the time being..."

"Perhaps," the pastel wonder replies hesitantly as Arachnae is called away for duty or whatever reason. He begins to dive. "I was looking for a challenging fly, Catechism, but don't care to do so on my own. After all, if no one else is around if I were to crash and burn, there'd be no one to drag me back. The trench is a decent enoug challenge... care to test our wings?"

Drag him back, should he crash and burn. That's the least Catechism owes Fleet. She hasn't forgotten that he dragged her off to that escape pod, even if she doesn't remember the actual event, being unconsious during it. The F-35 laughs, a static burst, and says, "Sure thing! I dragged back Verdant, didn't I?"

"Right!" the seeker replies cheerfully, diving more steeply, heading in to do battle with the winds of the trench. At that point he falls silent, as it takes all his concentration to keep from being slammed into the chasm walls, and still he comes dangerously close to them at times, although there's an indication that it may be on purpose.

F-35 <Catechism> seems a bit heedless, to be honest. Perhaps it's her coneheaded stubbornness showing in the point of her nosecone, but really, it seems like she just doesn't care, as if she's baiting the wind to batter her down to her doom. Then one recalls that she likes storm tag. Over the Razor Hills. And that despite her seemingly clumsiness, she's a darn good flier when she makes the effort. So this isn't her being cocky or stupid; this is just Catechism being Catechism. Which means it's completely lacking sense by default!

A peel of laughter, a noise of pure joy, escapes the pastel seeker's vocalizer as he dances with the winds, twisting and turning as he speeds through the chasm. Perhaps this may seem a strange hobby for the coward-at-core, but Fleet fears death, not pain, and it's at moments like these that he's most certain he's alive. It's because of moments like these that he works so hard to stay alive.

F-35 <Catechism> isn't as fast as Fleet and doesn't have as good of a turning radius or as quick reflexes. She's just got stubbornness in spades. It severs her well enough, as she bludgeons her way through the winds, but well enough isn't perfectly. Cutting it just a tad too close, she shears off the tip of one of her wings. It's not enough to take her down, but the F-35 is flying rattled for a few long moments until she gets herself settled. Flicking herself over into a barrel roll, she reflects on how much better it will be once she's sturdy enough that minor contact with a chasm wall at high speeds won't take off bits of her.

"You doing okay," Fleet radios as he continues his mad flight, dipping low before flying back up, at one point nearly being dragged into the wall by the winds. After that, his flying gets a little more cautious for awhile, before he shoots up out of the chasm and begins a backwards loop. Just because he can.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) rolls as he flies forward now, zipping back and forth randomly for no real reason at all. "Good," he answers. "Good to hear it." And then he dives back down, now behind Catechism thanks to his loop, although he's closing the gap.

F-35 <Catechism> dives, a proper dive this time. The upshot is that she gains a great deal of speed and would be harder to track via radar, if that was a worry. The downshot is that the chasm walls rush up to meet her and manoeuvring gets tight. Wing smarting as the air rushes over it, she pays more attention to her flight.

Becaused the F-35 has dived, Fleet doesn't have to take much effort to overshoot her. He's trying now for perfectly level flight in defiance of the winds, putting all of his concentration in keeping on a completely straight line. This alone is harder than one might expect!

F-35 <Catechism> continues to fly down low, her unease growing. She actually heads off, back towards Nightseige, from her nigh-ground-kissing path. The F-35 ponders seeing if Fleet will notice, but feeling vaguely charitable - she's getting a bucket! - she radios, "I'm heading back to base. Should probably get that wing patched up. Catch you on the flipside!"