Fleet GRAHS! as projectiles pepper his wings and the forearms he throws in front of his face. "How very... generous of you," he replies as he leaps well into the air, back flips, and transforms, diving towards the other in pyramid form. "But that means you've given more gifts than I! I simply can't let that stand!" At the nadir of his dive he unleashes a rocket, sending it right towards Beatdown.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) misses Beatdown with his Rocket attack.

Beatdown flips backwards, transforming as he does so thus narrowly avoiding the rocket. "Oh, I'm sorry, I don't want to get too greedy, don't want too much of a good thing" he emits, tyres screeching as he rounds on Fleet. "But anyway, looks like you need some assistance". At this, his sirens flick on, emitting a deadly sonic screech aimed at Fleet

Beatdown folds down intricately into the form of a black police car

Beatdown misses Pyramid Jet (Fleet) with his sonics attack.

If there's one thing Fleet can dodge, even when he dodges nothing else, it's the little cartoon wavy-lines produced by a sonic attack! He twists and rolls out of the way as he climbs back up, and once he's clear of the noise he transforms suddenly and throws his feet forward before leaning back at the waist so as to change directions very suddenly. "No thank you," he replies calmly. "I can already hear just fine." He continues to dive, aiming his fists towards Beatdown's hood.

Catechism enters, not looking terribly focused on her surroundings. She's staring at a datapad, which isn't her own; rather, it is a loaner. One hand holds the datapad as she idly thumbs through reports. The other hand is at her chin. The Seeker looks quite thoughtful, although there is a slight amount of strain in her expression, as if she isn't used to thinking this much.

Fleet misses Beatdown with his Fleet Fist! attack.

Beatdown screeches to the side as Catechism enters, leaving a handy gap for Fleet to miss his attack as the car flips up into a robot mode again, Beatdown landing the other side of Fleet and hoping to use his momentary disorientation to his advantage, levels a hefty spinning kick at Fleet, at the same time lifting an imaginary hat to greet Catechism. "Howdy there"

Beatdown contracts and flips up into his robot mode

Beatdown misses Fleet with his kick attack.

Fleet actually manages to angle his diving punch underneath Beatdown's kick as soon as he realizes he isn't going to connect, and once he clears the attack he manages a strange, bumpy tumble-roll that's obviously assisted by his antigravs. Once he's upright he spins again and throws out his right arm, firing off a quick low powered shot as he acknowledges, "Catechism. You'll have to forgive me if I don't salute."

Fleet strikes Beatdown with Death By A Thousand Papercuts.

Beatdown stares at Fleet rather angrily at the taser shot. "Well, looks like someone's asking for another swift beating" he growls, swinging his baton round in a circle, watching Fleet for any move before lunging forward with it hoping to hit something vital

Beatdown strikes Fleet with Energy_baton.

Catechism glances over at Beatdown and her optics cycle a blink. He's a car. He's not being killed on sight. He must be one of those poor Decepticons stuck with a car mode, like that one Stunticon she saw. Maybe he's a Stunticon, too? She nods to Fleet and notes, "Excused." Then, the Seeker adds, gazing at Beatdown, "I haven't seen you before. As you may have gathered from my pastel comrade, I am Catechism."

Verdant arrives from the IHQ Troop Hall to the south.

Verdant has arrived.

Once more the baton slams into Fleet, this time in the size, causing him to stumble back. Had this been a real fight, he'd be running now, but Fleet knows full well there is no real death in the training room, so he's perfectly willing to stick it out. The Seeker snarls, thinking, 'Nothing I'm not used to,' as suddenly, without warning, he charges Beatdown, giving no concern to his own safety as he attempts to actually ram into the other full-force.

Fleet strikes Beatdown with ram.

Beatdown is sent flying across the room, not used to doing that unless it is under his own power. "I'd ram you back, but that's just a waste of good fuel" he yells, letting loose a volley of ballistic bursts. "Don't you know when you're beaten?"

Beatdown misses Fleet with his ballistic attack.

Catechism pauses and shrugs. Then, she moves off to the side, away from the battle, and sits down. She can get the car Decepticon's name some other time. The Seeker stares at the datapad, occasionally mouthing a word to reason it out or running a finger under a line of text to better be able to focus on it.

It was, with some degree of cheer, that Verdant found Catechism and Fleet in the training room, along with a Decepticon he did not recognize. Still, the other two were a good sight, the closest thing he had to friends within the army. Perhaps they would be interested in assisting him?

Fleet ducks and then spins out of the way in a move that's far too pretty to be sported by a terror of the sky. "Ah, but this is /training/," he replies. "In this room, you're only beaten when you can't get up again." Once he's done with his fancy spinning he throws his left arm towards Beatdown and fires. Apparently he is oblivious to Verdant's entrance.

Fleet misses Beatdown with his Shoulder-Mounted Laser Rifle attack.

Beatdown leaps at Fleet angrily. "In that case, I'm going to hit you until you stop moving!" he yells, fists flailing ungainfully at the Seeker in an attempt to get his victory

Beatdown strikes Fleet with punch.

If Catechism is one of the closest things Verdant has to a friend, one must feel sorry for Verdant. Still, she's not going to hold much a grudge against him. They accomplished their goal that mission. She got repaired, in the end. It's just that she got owned by a human and was unable to hit back, which wasn't even Verdant's fault. It's not like Verdant ever made her look like a damsel in distress. Cough. Anyway, she's not in a battle at he moment, and she does notice Verdant and waves him over, still paying more attention to the datapad than anything else.

Verdant smiles slightly at the invitation and moves over by Catechism, taking a few moments to watch the battle being played out, judging that it had been going on for some time now. "Which of them," he asks, "do you suppose is winning?"

Fleet most likely isn't! He seems to be having trouble standing! But he's still fighting...

The Seeker shakes his head as Beatdown's fist connects with his face, and he stumbles back. He schools his expression into a look of determination as he raises his hand again. "That's what it'll take," he replies. Brave words from one who runs so quickly from the battlefront!

Fleet misses Beatdown with his Shoulder Mounted Weapon - <Slug-thrower Mode> attack.

Catechism looks at Verdant up and down. Eh. He's MSE. She stares at the battle for a while, restlessly tapping a hand on her wing as she thinks about it. At last, the new Executive Air Commander says, "At the moment, I'd say that faulty targeting systems are winning. Where have you been, anyway? MSE work?"

Beatdown want to his Fleet until his head falls off. How dare he still be standing, albeit shakily. "Well well..." he mutters, raising his pistol. "It may not take that much at all then..." With that he uses his pistol to... try to pistol-whip Fleet around the head! Naughty naughty!

Beatdown misses Fleet with his pistol attack.

"Indeed," Verdant replies. "Though my botanical skills have had little use here on Cybertron, I have kept myself busy with some metalurgical projects." He considers something for a moment, then speaks again. "I do, however, wish to make a trip to Earth to collect a few.... useful samples, and could use a warrior escort."

Fleet ducks underneath Beatdown's attack and thrusts his fists forward, aiming them for Beatdown's torso. "Maybe," is all he mutters as he focuses only on the fight, thus missing the conversation in the background.

Fleet strikes Beatdown with Fleet Fist!.

Catechism's optics glint. A warrior escort, ah? In the old days, she would have just wandered off with Verdant and whoever else felt like coming along. Now, if she thinks it's a good idea, she can *order* people along. Isn't that terrifying? However, she must first ascertain if this is a good idea as opposed to an idea that gets her beat up by a human. "What exactly are you looking to acquire and what purpose will it serve?"

Beatdown gives a very nice "Bwaaaaaah" as he gets punched, and replies in the only way he can, with a knuckle sandwich of his own, delicious and meaty, with quite a punch to it

Beatdown misses Fleet with his punch attack.

Fleet stands up straight and leans to the left, avoiding the return punch. He certainly does spend a lot of time engaged in melee combat anymore... good thing he's already working to correct his distinct lack of weaponry in that area. But until then, he has only his fists and his feet, and they're of... limited reliability at the moment. Still, he attempts another kick.

Fleet strikes Beatdown with Pastel Seeker Hookerboots.

Aaah yes, the rub of purpose. Verdant enjoys studying plants for their own sake, but even he understands the need for potential military applications. Fortunately, in this case, such options exist. "I am looking to accquire samples of a plant known as the Frozen Flame, which grows in cerain tropical climates. Owing to a particularness of the crystaline structure of its molecules, it can be used to create a powder with a variety of functions, including use in flares, explosives, and acids."

Beatdown is smacked back, really not liking the way this battle has swung, as he staggers to his feet, baton outstretching and swinging it in one last attempt at victory, or at least an attempt to knock Fleet's head off

Beatdown misses Fleet with his Energy_baton attack.

Fleet finally manages to duck underneath Beatdown's baton. Despite his pain, a brief smile flashes across his expression before it's hidden again. The seeker leaps backwards several mechafeet, being unable to use his antigravs for much longer a jump, and works to again put distance between himself and the Police-Caricon. Again the smile flashes, he raises his arm, and fires.

Fleet strikes Beatdown with Shoulder-Mounted Laser Rifle <Pulse Mode>.

Catechism considers this. Did he say explosives? Catechism likes it when things blow up. She nods and decides, "Sounds reasonable." Then, she hollers, "Trooper Fleet! Verdant has requested a warrior escort. When you're done with this, you're coming with us." The words sound strange to her even as she says them, but they're there.

Beatdown manages to get struck square in the face with this blast. He is a very angry little Con indeed. Optics flash a bright scarlet red as he swings his gun around to face Fleet. "Right... this has gone on too long, its gone from fun to irritating to downright annoying. Just... drop... dead" With each word, he pulls the trigger

Beatdown misses Fleet with his ballistic attack.

At this sudden display of authority, it is all Verdant can do not to boggle. When did Catechism get promoted? He really must remember to come out of the lab more often. Then again, when he does, he usually gets shot at. So, perhaps certain types of ignorance are indeed bliss.

Fleet is not angry. After all, he's losing! Despite that, he actually seems... pleased to have pissed off Beatdown so much. He dives to the side in a move that lacks his usual grace but is more effective in getting himself the hell out of the way of the weapons fire. "Sorry. I just don't seem able to oblige," Fleet replies as he transforms and... sits there. He can't fly at this point. But he can fire his rockets. "Catechism, I can leave anytime you're ready. After all, this is only a training room bout." That, and Fleet's getting his aft kicked.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) strikes Beatdown with Rocket.

Beatdown yells slightly madly as he's shot onto his aft. "A rocket... a rocket... is that the best you can do?" Well, it must have been pretty good, since it did hurt him quite a bit. He staggers upright and attempts to level off a volley of his own. "Here, reflect on what you've done!"

Beatdown misses Pyramid Jet (Fleet) with his rocket attack.

If Catechism notices Verdant boggling, she gives no sign, probably because deep down, she's still boggling herself. She turns to Fleet and says, "Training is an important part of a warrior's time, and I wouldn't dream of depriving your opponent of his sparring partner." That, and she has no jurisdiction over the car Decepticon.

So how does Fleet the pyramid jet dodge? As soon as he fires, he transforms again, giving him enough time to dive out of the way of the rocket. "Uhm. Actually, yes," is his somewhat sheepish reply as he painfully pulls himself into a standing position but doesn't return fire. "Are we done yet?" he asks tiredly.

Beatdown frowns, looking slightly pissed off at the world, but mostly himself for not beating his opponent into the ground sooner. "Eh... this might have gone on forever I suppose, and it looks like there's some duty thats calling..."

Catechism notes, looking straight at the car Decepticon to make to clear she is addressing him. "You are under no obligation to attend, although if you are in fit condition and wish, you may accompany us."

You move south to the IHQ Troop Hall.

[travel spam]

You take the lift to the Congo Basin above, the steel doors sliding open as it reaches the surface.

Fleet arrives via a hydraulic lift as steel doors open in the jungle floor.

Fleet has arrived.

Beatdown arrives via a hydraulic lift as steel doors open in the jungle floor.

Beatdown has arrived.

Verdant arrives via a hydraulic lift as steel doors open in the jungle floor.

Verdant has arrived.

Decidedly Decepticon Shuttle soars down into view from the skies above.

Decidedly Decepticon Shuttle has arrived.

It was, Verdant reflects, good to be back on Earth. It was a planet full of life and great many things both great and small. So... unclean, so dirty and scummy and grand... Ah. It beat the heck out of Cybertron. "The location I wish to examine is not far from here," he says.

Catechism flips over into her jet mode, almost lazily and calls out, stating the obvious in an ironic twist of events, "Jet modes, the both of you. We'll get where ever we're going faster The car... well, he can figure out what works best for him on his own, eh?"

Catechism transforms into her alternate mode: a F-35, Marine Corps variant. Her feet flip up against her shins, her nosecone rotates through her body and out in front where it belongs, her arms tuck into her torso, and her wings rotate into position.

Beatdown hovers in the air in robot mode, scowling slightly at the jets. One day they'll learn that they're nothing special. Every other Con you see is a jet, but him, well, don't see many cars about.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) transforms and follows. "As you command," he says, his voice sounding almost... tired. He certainly doesn't seem pleased to be back on this mudball, but at least he doesn't have to worry about not being able to fire back this time for fear of breaking some sort of absurd treaty.

And that's why Astrotrain's here. For Cons who can't get themselves going as fast as a fighter jet, they can just hitch a ride on the space train and thumb their noses at the slow seekers as necessary.

 Though Astrotrain isn't doing it out of the goodness of his fuel pump or anything, it's just his lot in life. Not that it's a -bad- one. Being a transporter capably of carrying half the Decepticon army to and fro tends to have a sense of job security to it and it's a comfortable little rut that allows for the triplechanger to be a little more flippant about such things. It's a chance to stretch his wings anyway. "So what's this happy bunch out here for again anyway?"

F-35B <Catechism> rolls and explains, "Our resident botanist has decided he needs supplies. So we're hunting for plants. Actually, he'll be doing the hunting for plants. We'll just beat up anyone who tries to take the plants away from him. Got it? And Verdant, are we there yet?'

"We have indeed arrived at our destination," Verdant replies. "If you would all be so kind as to set down in the clearing below...?"

Beatdown sets his feet down in the clearing, looking around hands on hips. "So what?" he mutters, not quite having got the gist of the mission. "We napalm the place, wait for the Autobots to come running to help all the wildlife, then we nuke the jungle with hidden mines? Ace!"

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) lowers his altitude, transforms, and lands gently, like a dancer finishing a particularly long leap. He looks up at the others and nods once. "Correct. We are raiding... plants." And it isn't the first time Fleet's done that! Oh, those evil Decepticons, will they stop at nothing? Despite his general distaste in the subject, however, he keeps his focus on the task at hand. "Erm, Beatdown... our base is in that jungle. Nuking it might make our life more difficult."

F-16 <Verdant> lands and transforms, a look of pure horror etched onto his face. "Hardly," he says. "I am here to collect certain botanical, that is to say, plant, samples in order to provide the Army with various applications resulting from the study there of." Talking to Verd, one needs a dictionary. Or possibly a two-by-four to whap him upside the head with.

Verdant transforms, his cockpit flipping down to form his chest, his head popping up, arms pulling out from his sides, and lower section extending and splitting into his legs and feet, while his wings move slightly to allow slightly greater freedom of movement.

<Public> CAMBOT DepthCharge says, "ALL people who ring are silly."

F-35B <Catechism> frantically loop-de-loops and tries to correct, "No, no, no! Verdant steals the wildlife and then makes bombs out of them. Then we blow up *other* things with the wildlife!" Well, that may not exactly be the case, but it's close enough. As indicated, she settles down in the clearing. Thank goodness for VTOL.

And so, Verdant gets to work, opening up his cockpit and removing several small, spherical sample chambers, before heading toward the tree line, where numberous nearly translucent blue flowers seem to be growing, their petals looking an awful lot like the rising flames of a fire. Hence the name the Frozen Flame.

"Plants." Comes Astrotrain's dry reply, as he lowers his own altitude towards the clearing itself as well. As the others begin to transform, he does so as well, though not to robot mode, instead shifting about and twisting as his eight, huge steel wheels extend downwards and slam into the clearing, kicking up huge twin plumes of dirt and sod in his wake as he tears two very deep ruts in the earth where he passes. He didn't -really- need to do that but, well...even a bit of ecological damage and scarring, no matter how minor is good for a laugh.

 "Yer stealing -plants-." He repeats then as he chugs to a halt, steam puffing from his smokestack the whole while. "...fear the Decepticon Empire. Oh yeah...scary. Plant stealers...sheesh."

Astrotrain's body spins and expands outwards, shifting into the form of a large locomotive.

Beatdown starts to pace around in a circle then, fingering his baton with anticipation. "Oh, okay, I knew that really... so who are we going to break then? Once we get the flowers can we invite some Autofools to kick the Primus out of?"

Verdant vanishes out of reality.

Verdant has left.

Fleet shrugs and wanders around, setting up a perimeter for Verdant to do his searching in. "I stole sand once. Under High Command's orders, even. I don't see as plants are much stranger." As he walks he occasionally glances down. Ugh. Plants. "You know, I did not miss this planet at all," he observes flatly.

Locomotive sits still for the moment. He's apparently comfortable to just rest on his eight wheels for now as he talks. "Eh." He states towards Fleet's sentiments at first, before blowing out another thick puff of steam/exhaust. "There's more activity than Cybertron at least. See, once we conquer this little mudball, I says we move Cybertron closer to it..." (again) "...and we use it fer blowin off steam. Home's fine and all but sometimes ya just need to strafe the wildlife or the local inhabitants fer a good time. And if there's one thing the squishies're good for it's hearin em scream. Haw haw."

 All the while that the triplechanger is speaking, his form almost seems to be getting...smaller, oddly enough. It might take a few moments for one to realize that it's not exactly smaller that he's getting, but lower to the ground. An ever so faint bubbling about the base of his wheels as the bog he chose to stop on very subtly starts to suck his heavy form in.

Fleet mmmms softly as he continues to absently circle. "I'm fairly certain I could come up with better things to do with my free time," mutters Fleet, "although I suppose you do make a point." Finally he comes around to where he can actually see Astrotrain and frowns, bringing his right hand up to rub his chin. Something's not right here...

Beatdown has disconnected.

"What are ya, some kinda sensitive new age Decepticon?" Astrotrain almost sneers, though it can't be seen. His form does shift just slightly as if he were giving a shrug. "Bah, it was better during the earlier days. When the humans didn't know so much about our existence." The triplechanger's voice seems to shift then as he reminisces. "Seein the looks on their faces when their fancy vehicles they thought were just like the rest suddenly start movin on their own. Watchin their jaws hit the floor when ya'd transform. And the `bots, always tryin ta make friends with em, and we'd keep screwin em up cause the meatbags didn't know the difference between a bot and a con. Haw haw!"

 By now, the mud under him is bubbling steadily, and he has in fact sunk up to the point that his steel wheels are almost completely covered.

"Insensitive more like it," Fleet replies tiredly. "I just can't bring myself to care one way or another about the germs for the most part." Then his face twists into a snarl. "Although I make a few notable exceptions there, exceptions I certainly wouldn't /mind/ hearing scream."

Fleet at last figures out what's wrong with Astrotrain. "Uhm... Astrotrain? You're sinking."

F-35B <Catechism> has just been circling above, not too high, watching out for those tricky, sneaky Autobots. If they started shooting at polar bears, the Autobots would be here in a flash, but evidently, they just don't love plants enough. She inclines her nosecone over at Fleet and comments, "He can get himself out, right?"

Locomotive hrmphs. "There's more than a few of em shoulda been stepped on. Like that uppity one that's in charge of the squishie government. All I know is I'd love ta get him under my foot and step down on him like a...." And then Fleet's words click in. "...sinking? Huh?"

 Though he has no optics in this form, one can almost -see- him glancing down at himself, as he continues to sink, now past his wheels outright as he descends even more. "What the...aw for the love of...!" With that, he abruptly transforms, rising up with a very loud and wet slurch as he makes to get into freedom.

 Only to come up, sunk to his knees in the mud. At least he isn't sinking anymore, but he's definetely...stuck, as he tries unsucessfully to pull on either of his legs in the process. "....I hate this smeggin planet."

Astrotrain's body shifts and spins as he stands upright into his robot form.

Fleet smiles unpleasantly as Astrotrain, to the Seeker's mind, unintentionally wins him the argument. "We're... going to have to do something about that," the dancer observes almost haphazardly, knowingly stating the obvious. Then he radios up to Catechism, "I'm not sure. I think he may need help." His voice as he speaks is polite, and somehow manages to fall just short of snide, although one gets the definite impression it was heading in that direction.

"My freakin antigravs are under the stuff too, I can't take off!" Astrotrain complains bitterly. He might be tempted to actually panic if he were still sinking, but as he's stabilized, the panic is no longer really an issue so much as the simple fact that he's stuck without a way to get himself free. After a few moments, he pulls out his Ion rifle, lifting the weapon up and trying to use it as a crutch so he can get one leg free. All this succeeds in doing is having the bog grab his rifle and swallow it up with a wet slurp.

 "...well that's just great." At this, he then glares at Fleet, and his half smile, pointing a finger. "...well don't just -stand- there gawkin like some kinda half energized Empty. DO something!"

F-35B <Catechism> circles lower to get a better look at the sticky predicament Astrotrain has gotten himself into. She calls out to Fleet, "I'm not sure if we've got the sheer pulling power needed to get him out. This may prove tricky." The Seeker mulls over her options. They can't just leave him here. She'll get yelled at.

Fleet inclines his head once and grows more serious. He activates his own antigravs and drifts over, examining the gunk. "Well, we could try heating all the water out of it in the hopes of making it more brittle, but that might just make him more stuck instead..." then he lifts his head and examines the tree line. He points his arm at one of them. "Or we could create a makeshift crutch, one with an edge on firmer ground, where-by he can help us pull himself out."

Astrotrain can only stand in place right now and seem to fume at the developments. Where's a Constructicon when you need them? His version of voicing this sentiment comes out in the form of, "Those pasty green midgets are never around when their skills are -really- needed!" It's even complete with a shaken fist for good measure.

F-35B <Catechism> lands, well away from the weird ground that appears to be dragging Astrotrain into the bowel of the Earth, and transforms. "A crutch plus our grappling hooks hopefully should be enough. Here, we can knock down one of the bigger trees. Hopefully Verdant won't need it."

F-35, Marine Corps variant, transforms into robot form. Catechism's feet unfold, her arms unfold out of her body, her nosecone rotates through her body and ends up on her shoulders to expose her face, and her wings rotate into position.

Fleet checks one of the trees for height and thickness, deciding that it will be long enough to work. He fires, although with his firepower it takes several shots to down the tree. Then he rushes forward, to keep the thing from falling on someone. Oh, say, Astrotrain? "Eh. We should be able to get this figured out ourselves. How do you think it looks, if Mil-Ops goes running to the Constructicons every time we find ourselves in a jam?"

Astrotrain can only cross his arms now, watching as Fleet shoots the tree off and Catechism comes in for a landing. At the mention of running to the constructicons for help, he just gives an audible, "Hmph." Again at that, glancing off to one side. "-I- got the power to pull myself out I just...can't get no traction in this mud when my wheels are sinkin, that's all!" he offers defensively.

"Well, that's what this tree is for," Fleet answers, struggling as he tries to drag the thing clear across the bog Astrotrain managed to get himself stuck in. "It /should/ be thick enough, but if it looks like it's about to snap, let me know. I'll get a couple more." Even as he continues to drag, his face twists into a thoughtful frown. "Of course, if you let us help with our grappling hooks, you wouldn't put as much weight on the tree, either..."

Catechism reels out her grappling hook and a length of line. The Seeker twirls the hook around a few times. Then, she glances over at Fleet. "Shall we wait until he's got that log in position? I don't want us getting dragged in by accident, too. That'd be a nightmare." Really. Squishy things do not go over well with Catechism.

"Fine, fine whatever works!" Astrotrain states towards Fleet with something approaching irritation, as he watches the tree now getting dragged into position, then eyeing Catechism as well. He transforms again a moment later, his larger form immediately slurping into the mud once more, though he at least angled himself so his front wheels can get the tree stuck under them. He dosen't dare try his shuttle mode...it's so big and heavy he might sink completely out of view. "...razzin frazzin...ridiculous. I'm gonna need a serious wash job after this!"

Astrotrain's body spins and expands outwards, shifting into the form of a large locomotive.

Astrotrain's body shifts and spins as he stands upright into his robot form.

Fleet finally finishes struggling with the log. By this time it's laying all the way across the bog, and within reach of Astrotrain. The Seeker then takes off for a higher vantage point. "And you may have some scratches and dings that'll need working out... you're going to need to use your arms, so I'm going to have to use my grappling hook on some other part." And with that, he fires it.

Fleet misses Astrotrain with his grasp attack.

Astrotrain is just starting to reach out for the log, when Fleet's grappling hook comes in at him, and hits him right in the face.

 *BWONK* "Ouch!"

Fleet flinches as his aim is off. "Uhm, sorry about that," he mutters. He decides that while he does need to stick around to help pull Astrotrain out of the mud, once the triple-changer is out far enough that he can pull himself out, Fleet may need to get a head start.

Catechism calls out, "Here, let me try, Fleet!" Then, she tosses out her own grappling hook, hoping that it will swing around one of Astrotrain's and neatly loop, like grappling hooks always do in the movies that she doesn't actually watch. Besides, Decepticon cinema is a sad, sad affair.

Astrotrain evades your grasp attack.

Astrotrain has one hand up now, holding at his face and over the one optic that got hit in the process. If looks could kill, the glare that he's giving Fleet would probably obliterate him faster than a good galvcannoning. "Don't. Mention. It." He states then, just as the other hook suddenly wraps around his torso, hooking first on the back of his head. "...OWOWOWOW!" After a bit of scrambling, he removes the hook from a -very- painful spot and it clicks into place however, secured as he starts to pull on the log, a wet slurching sound following ssoon after as he tries to get himself free.

Catechism transforms into jet mode, the line for the grappling hook ending up somewhere where her landing hook would be if she was a carrier plane. Pity the Decepticon doesn't have any carriers. Carrier landings are always cooler than normal landings. Just see Top Gun and Stealth. "All right, we'll need to take off at the same time and roughly the same speed..."

Catechism transforms into her alternate mode: a F-35, Marine Corps variant. Her feet flip up against her shins, her nosecone rotates through her body and out in front where it belongs, her arms tuck into her torso, and her wings rotate into position.

"NnngyaaahIdon'tcarewhatyahook just PULL!" Astrotrain finally snarls out. He's strong, very strong in fact. Maybe not like a Dinobot but he can lift a fairly hefty amount of weight given his life's role. As such, combined with the pulling of the seekers, he's soon slurching his way out of the mud, until such point that the bog finally realizes it's grip with one last *SPLORTH!*. And just like that, Astrotrain's form lifts up out of his previous prison and is sent sailing a short distance, to crash down at the edge of the clearing, and in amongst the trees for a few seconds, gazelles and various other wildlife that had taken cover there scattering in all directions. The good news is, he's free.

 The bad news is, he's not happy with the way he became grappling hook targeting practice, given the amount of loud cursing and exclamations coming from the trees as he struggles to right himself.

Fleet releases the grappling hook line. He doesn't bother retracting it. It may be semi-tangled in Astrotrain, and it's replaceable anyway. "Ah!" He exclaims cheerily. "Glad to see you're free! Well, if you don't mind, I am scheduled for an upcoming patrol... and on Cybertron, no less, so I really have to get going." He takes a moment to shoot off a hurried salute towards Catechism, transforms, and takes off, making a beeline back towards base before Astrotrain has the chance to get the gunk off of him.

Fleet begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from F-35B <Catechism>.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) takes the lift to the Lounge below after the sliding doors open.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) has left.

F-35B <Catechism> transforms, mimes dusting off her hands, and waves at Fleet as he goes. She knows the patrol schedules and possibly composed a few of them herself, but she makes no remark. She says, "Hopefully Verdant got all that he needed. If it isn't the Autobots, it's the terrain. So how abotu you go get hosed down and I'll just be over here..." she sidles over a ways away from Astrotrain. "...making sure Verdant can get back on his own. Those scientists are so absent-minded, you know."

Astrotrain emerges from the treeline a moment later, a large clump of branches stuck on his head, which he removes with an angry swipe of one hand. He's caked in mud, to say the least, and is probably going to need a good scraping in addition to a hosing off.

 A glance is given to the seeker, before his response comes out as little more than an audible, "Hmph!" And with that, he takes to the air, lifting off with a trail of mud and dirt clumps falling in his wake. The Decepticon's finest.

Astrotrain has disconnected.