Silver 280Z is driving along what's left of the massive bridge, his radio blaring.

F-35B <Catechism> would be out on patrol. She's a rather noisy jet, she's an Earth model on Cybertron, and she's flying fairly low. She's likely going to stand out. The F-35 reflects that the last time she was out patrolling this swamp, she got into a fight with Air Raid, and Comcast still hasn't told her why Seekers hate that Aerialbot. Aside from him being an Autobot. That's a pretty good reason, there.

Silver 280Z stops in about the middle of what's left of the old bridge as the sound of an aircraft penetrates even his penchant for music. Probaly another EDC craft doing a patrol. He transforms and strides out to where he can be seen better, waving happily at the craft while smiling. His smile fades slowly as he finally notices Decepticon markings on the wings.

Bluestreak folds out into his robot mode.

F-35B <Catechism> thought she spied a car, but it's transformed now, and she's getting waved at? That's different. The F-35 flies by too fast to get a positive ID on the waver. She supposes he could be a Stunticon or something, but she didn't think that any of those unfortunate car Decepticons' patrol routes overlapped her own. No, more likely he's an Autobot. The F-35 starts looping back to confirm his identity, knowing that if he's a foe, she's leaving herself open for fire as she gets herself turned around.

Bluestreak watches the plane roar past and slowly arc around. Unslinging his rifle, but not pointing it at the sky or the circling Decepticon, Bluestreak braces himself in case things go ugly. So far, he appears willing to play nice. He continues watching the F-35 circle around, weapons out and ready, but not trained. His optics glow a slightly brighter color as he gets scans to patch into the ID system.

F-35B <Catechism> would probably be in the Autobot database in some form, even if is just as, 'Seeker who shows up in the background during battles a lot.' She slows down as she makes her second pass and compares the silver robot against her files. Wait, this is Bluestreak? She has orders concerning him. Immediately, the F-35 cuts her engines and transforms, landing on the bridge with a solid thunk. Slowly, she turns back down around to face the Autobot.

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.

Bluestreak smiles thinly, but without mirth "Great day in the swamp, hmm? Looks like our partrol routes happened to collide today. Personally, I'm all for you flying off and me driving off and we report "enemy activity" but no actual shooting going on. Don't suppose that's gonna carry the day here, hmm, Decepticon?"

Catechism notes, "This swamp has sentimental value for me." Then, she laughs. What he suggests sounds tantamount to treason to her. She mimes dusting off her wings and then bargains, "No, I don't think so. How about you vow on whatever it is you Autobot filth believe in never to set foot or tyre near our minefield again, and I won't blast off your foolish wheels?" Catechism doesn't need to draw her guns. They're already quite obviously there on her arms.

Its going to be one of those days. Bluestreak shakes his head, "No, I don't think I can do that. See, getting rid of that minefield is sort of a project of mine. Found a great way to neutralize them, and I really need to stick around and make sure we get it cleared. So I'm not swearing by anything or avoiding that minefield. You love it so much, I suggest heading back there to it, parking nearby and reveling it its, uh, blightedness. In the meantime, Im going to keep on my patrol route, check in, make a report, maybe see if a pint of energon. Gee...that pint of energon sounds pretty good. Sure you don't want to just go get a draught somewhere else?"

Catechism is a teetotaller. She has very good reason for this quirk, too. The last time Catechism got overenergised, she ended up having her wing shot off by Shockwave. So a draught was perhaps not the best thing to suggest to her. Clearing the minefield is his project, ah? Well, she has orders to destroy him and toss his corpse into the minefield. Better get cracking now. With a cheerful cry of, "I don't think so!" she flicks out her combat knife and rushes the Autobot, seemingly rather reckless on the old bridge.

You strike Bluestreak with combat knife.

Bluestreak is rather surprised. Cheerfully violent people usually have the decency to look more crazy than this average seeker. He tries to back away from the knife and fails. He stumbles back, a bit awkwardly, still getting set up. Holding his rifle in both hands and defensively in front of himself Bluestreak, circles slowly, watching Catechism's optics for any clue as to her next move. "Easy, there's no need for all of ... THIS!" he says and he jumps forward suddenly, his rifle sweeping down in an attempt to knock away or otherwise disable the knife.

Bluestreak strikes you with Punch for 6 points of damage.

Catechism is a Decepticon, duh. Of course she's going to be sneaky about her cheerful violence. The knife, however, is knocked away and skitters across the bridge. Guess she'll just have to use her guns, then. She smiles and notes, "You could have taken my deal, you know. You didn't. I have my orders." Then, she snaps up one of her arm guns and casts a blast Bluestreak's way.

Bluestreak evades your taser attack.

Bluestreak jumps back as fast as he can, rolling to a stop near the bridges edge as the taser blast arcs just over his head and dissipates with a electrical crackle. Raising his rifle, he says, "Geuess we both have our jobs to do. No deals, no simple reports. Just this." Frowning with distaste, he fires.

You evade Bluestreak's Lightning attack.

Catechism steps back slightly and half-turns, allowing the lightning blast to pass to her side. Ah, the peal of thunder, the sharp scent of ozone, far from harming her as intended, all it does is remind her that it's been too long since she went storm flying. Pleased at her evasion but snarling at her missed shot, she send another blast after him, something with a little more bite than that taser shot.

You strike Bluestreak with laser.

Bluestreak is just getting to his feet when the laser bolts strike home, backing him up to the very edge of the bridge. In fact he has to catch a handhold on one of the vertical supports to keep from falling. Looking at Catechism, he smiles suddenly and takes a step back, off of the bridge, vanishing from view.

Catechism is about to pursue Bluestreak, guns blazing, when he suddenly smiles and drops off the side of the bridge. Unless he likes swimming in swamps, he's got to be up to something. She could trying flying around to see what he's up to, but she'd risk being shot out of the air and into that wretched swamp liquid. So, glancing about, she picks up a pebble from the road and tosses it down, hard, the way that the Autobot fell, hoping to get some reaction from him.

Bluestreak waits, his rocket launchers humming slightly, for the smug face of a Decepticon to appear above hit. When it doesn't and instead its just a small chunk of rock, his optics flicker with surprise. Swinging to his left wildly, he manages to avoid the pebble, but does make a bit of scraping noise and he gets his hand-hold back. Was it noise enough? Bluestreak dangles, considering his situation. To avoid a rock he probably just IDed his location and now he's hanging from a bridge while the Decepticon, who can fly, knows where he is. Swearing softly, though auidibly, to himself Bluestreak says, "Blast. Next time, just shoot the femme."

Catechism thought she heard something, perhaps a scraping noise. She takes a few long steps back, as quietly as possible. Then, the Seeker takes a running start into a flying leap, aimign to end up over and behind the Autobot. She tucks herself into a ball and spins as she jumps, uncurling when she's behind him. Then, Catechism reaches out her arms and attempts to grab Bluestreak, with a shout of, "Boo!" Clearly, her intimidation skills need some work.

Catechism succeeds in grasping Bluestreak, throwing him off-balance.

Bluestreak looks back up to watch for Catechism just in time to see her leap past. So much for that plan. He starts to pull himself up when suddenly she catches hold of him. For several seconds he just hangs there. Maybe that "boo" got to him. With a creak of metal, Bluestreak's hands start to slip. In desperation, he kicks at the con attached to his back, "Let go!" he shouts, leg flailing.

You evade Bluestreak's Kick attack.

Catechism swings her weight about to the other side of Bluestreak to avoid his kick. She's pretty sure that he's slipping, but she doesn't engage he anti-gravs yet. Instead, Catechism swings back a bit and then sharply forward, hoping to knock the Autobot into the side of the bridge, with all the fun that entails. Sweetly, she says, "I'll be sure to let go as soon as you do. Surely, the swamp can take a little more filth."

You strike Bluestreak with Bridge-Smack.

Bluestreak is not Sideswipe, he's not burly enough to maintain his grip on the bridge while dealing with the added weight of a seeker and dealing with having his face smashed against the bridge. With a final finger twitch, and a hastily spat, "Curse you, Seeker," Bluestreak loses his grip and begins to fall. As he decends, Catechism getting smaller above, he fires a single rocket that swarms out into smaller warheads shortly after clearing the launcher. Yes, he's accelerating his own landing in the swamp, but he's a little desperate.

You evade Bluestreak's Warhead attack.

Catechism lets go of Bluestreak, just like she said she would, right when he lets go. Ah, isn't gravity such a drag? The Seeker is not idle in the air, however, and jinks out of the way of his warheads. She cackles with glee, perhaps evoking some drab-clad swamp witch, and thoughtfully sends a few shots down after Bluestreak to keep him company.

You strike Bluestreak with Zap!.

SPLORITCH!

Amid the zap fire and his own cursing, Bluestrak lands in the dreaded cyberswap. The thick, viscous slime does provide a surface to land on that is not as bad as bare metal, but it still isn't exactly fun. Surfacing with laser damage showing, as well as the manly new dent in his optic-ridge from getting bashed into the bridge, Bluestreak begins sloshing for what cover he can find - under the bridge being favorite in this situation. He's no longer even trying to return fire, just get away.

Catechism smirks as the Autobot tries to flee. She loses the smirk when he heads under the bridge. She's not going to follow him there. Between the enclosed space and the swamp and the darkness? No. Instead, she flits back up to the bridge and takes to time to track down her knife and put it away, quite on edge. After all, he might just be regrouping.

Slogging through the muck, Bluestreak makes it under the bridge and immediately heads for one of the supports. With skill born of desperation, and a little help from his electromagnets, Bluestreak begins scaling up the support, desperately trying to reach a surface his tires can get some grip on and get the heck out of here!

Catechism snatches up her knife and puts it away quickly. She doesn't yet notice Bluestreak climbing up the support. Instead, she finds a reasonably large, clear space and transforms. Then, with the help of her vectored thrust, she takes off and launches up into the sky, where the F-35 will better be able to see what's going on without being taken by surprise.

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.

Hearing the engines of the jet overhead causes Bluestreak to smile. Looks like the blasted femme has headed out. No more getting shot today. Still grinning, he scrambles up the last leg of the support and hauls himself onto the bridge. Immediately treansforming, he aims for home and away from this awful place.

Bluestreak folds down into his 280Z mode.

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

F-35B <Catechism> is about to disappoint Bluestreak. She transformed into her jet mode to get a view from the sky, all the better to spot the silver car. So once he hits the bridge, the F-35 is out of her lazy hover, like some giant metal dragonfly who has just spotted prey and about as expected in the swamp. She zips after him, sending some disruptor-fire as a parting gift, hollering, "Yeah, you get going and stay out of our minefield, too!"

You strike Silver 280Z with Disruptor.

Silver 280Z is slammed about and rocks into the sidewall before regaining controll. He doesn't respond, just drives as hard as he can out of there.

Bluestreak has disconnected.

You move south to the Northern Crossroads.

[travel spam]

Fleet arrives from the IHQ Command Center to the south.

Fleet has arrived.

Catechism is in the office of the Aerospace XO. Given that's her job, that's slightly less surprising than it should be. Her paint is slightly battered, but aside from that, she looks quite fine, and she looks even more cheerful than usual. She's reclined back in the office chair and is typing up a report. The contents must make her rather happy.

Fleet walks lightly as a bubble as he drifts through Aerospace wing, pausing only a moment at the door to Catechism's office. The seeker shakes his head, a faint, almost amused smile skittering across his expression before he schools it away again. Catechism... has an office. How very odd. Moment of hesitation passed, he lifts his right hand and reaches forward to rap twice on the door.

Catechism miss-keys, typing in something wrong, as the raps at the door startled her. No, Bluestreak did not turn into a cart. Not at all. She pauses to rectify that mistake. Then Catechism stands, paces over, and opens her door, wondering who it might be. She is still in a spectacular mood, fairly bouncing, which may be an ironically terrifying sight.

Not really. A bizarrely cheerful person being more cheerful then normal isn't enough to set off Fleet's weird-o-meter, especially when the individual being discussed is Catechsm.

The pastel wonder quickly whips out a salute and then puts it away again, not wanting a repeat of the time when he had to wait so long for the return salute, and then tilts his head. "Catechism. I'm not interrupting anything, am I, ma'am?"

Having a cheerful boss can be a worrisome thing when one is a Decepticon, when one considers that makes Decepticons, especially Decepticons with a bit of rank, happy. She glances back at the report she was typing and shrugs. She says, rocking back and forward on her heels, "Not much. Just a report on an enemy encounter. What do you need?"

Fleet smiles and nods once, interpreting Catechism's behavior to mean that the encounter went well. Or she got hit in the head so hard that she doesn't care how it went. Either one works. Then he frowns. "Acutally, erm... and I do regret having to bring this up to you, but you will recall Scourge's request recently for a volunteer to assist me in a recon mission?"

Catechism would have more to show for it than slightly marred paint if she got hit in the hand that hard. As it is, she nods thoughtfully. To contrast, the coneheaded Seeker thoughtlessly inquires, "How is that working out for you, anyway? Got some good data?" Such is the curse of the optimist.

Fleet shakes his head. "That's the problem. I haven't gone yet. For one, I've had to take care of the Finger Canyon investigation, and for two, no one's volunteered. That's why I'm here. I was hoping to request your assistant in determining a good... mandatory volunteer for the job."

Catechism 's espression loses a bit of its cheer, and she gestures, indicating that Fleet ought to follow her into the office. "C'mon in and take a chair. I'll bring up the rosters." For now, the office is Spartan, barely furnished. There's not even a bucket in the corner or an Aerialbot's wing tacked to the wall indicate that it is even her office.

Fleet dips his head briefly in a nod of acknowledgment and slips into the room behind Catechism, quietly making his way to the chair before sliding into it. He tucks his feet neatly beneath him and interlaces his fingers, which now rest casually on his lap. "Thank you."

Catechism taps to bring up the rosters and notes idly, "No trouble. This is my job, after all." Her job. How odd it sounds, still, office and all. "Granted, I don't have the rosters for non-MilOps fliers, so someone like Verdant or Fulcrum may be available for your purposes, and I would be able to tell you either or."

"Well, neither of them volunteered, either, and I'd rather start recruiting mandatory volunteers from within Mil-Ops before I try dragging in people from outside the division against their will," Fleet replies as he leans back and settles in for a wait. "That sort of meddling tends to lead to bad feelings, especially when Scourge's wording doesn't really grant that level of authority anyway."

Catechism nods. "Sensible. Besides, you'd have to go to one of the liaisons the Air Commander was talking about setting up to see about getting a non-MilOps jet, and I don't thinks eh has the selections for those finalised yet." Under her exhaust, she mutters, "I sure hope she doesn't." In a normal speaking tone, she adds, "Well, here are the rosters." She swivels the monitor around so that Fleet can see the rosters, which will remain vague and ill-described since who know when certain jets will be online.

Fleet leans forward and sighs. "Slim pickings at best," he observes as he looks at the list, "and most of those who are listed as available are also the sort that are very good at not being found when there's work to be done. I'd lose more time trying to get their tailfins in gear then I would spend if I just did the mission myself." He makes a face as he contemplates this. "That may be the only option."

: looks at Fleet levelly for a long moment. It'd hard to say what she's thinking in that pointed head of hers. Then, slowly, she swivels the monitors back around. Quietly, she says, "I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help. You'll really go it alone?" She lays the words down like a test. She was out in that vicinity just recently. She stuck to the swamps. That ought to say something, and Fleet is thinking about going it alone? Well.

Catechism looks at Fleet levelly for a long moment. It'd hard to say what she's thinking in that pointed head of hers. Then, slowly, she swivels the monitors back around. Quietly, she says, "I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help. You'll really go it alone?" She lays the words down like a test. She was out in that vicinity just recently. She stuck to the swamps. That ought to say something, and Fleet is thinking about going it alone? Well.

"If I need to," Fleet replies in a steady voice as he again leans back in his chair. "If there's still so much there that I have to pull back immediately, that's what I'll do, but even that much would tell me /something/. I did that one solo flyover when they were still at the crossroads and still at full force, if you'll remember. And besides, in the end I'd rather risk flying into an enemy strong point with the option of retreating immediately than angering Scourge by taking too long. I think the second option would be the most dangerous, if it comes to that."

Catechism nods slowly and steeples her fingers. Fleet's reasoning is foreign to her but well-explained enough that it makes sense. So he would do this out of fear rather than in spite of fear. He still seems determined to do it, as far as she can tell. The coneheaded Seeker closes the duty rosters and saves the report she was working. Then, she stands and places her hands on the deck, finger splayed. Catechism flashes a smile and says, "Very well. I shall accompany you, then. I realise I am not the most unobtrusive of planes, so I'll stay back, if you wish. So just tell me what you need me for, and I'll do me best to see it through."

Fleet stands as well, betraying no surprise that the new Executive Air Commander would be willing to accompany him on a grunt recon mission. After all, hasn't be been on enough weird missions with command members by now? "You're close to as fast as I am. That's the most important part. You don't send a Seeker in when you're wanting to hide the fact that you're monitoring someone - I'm not built for stealth, either. It's just a matter of zipping through, seeing what's there, and coming back to report it. But I appreciate the back-up."

After all, it never hurts to have someone left to report where the carcass fell.

Catechism owes Fleet one, anyway. She hasn't forgotten that. Amusement curls the edges of her mouth and she nods, "Back-up I can most certainly do." And how! "When were you planning this?" After all, she'll need to make a note of it on the duty roster.

"As soon as possible, really," Fleet replies, tilting his head. "We waited too long on that Jazz thing, and blew it. In this case we're... probably just confirming that they're pulling out. They'd have to. But I'd prefer to avoid waiting until the news is too old."

"Right," says Catechism, leaning over her terminal to close out that report she was working on. She pauses and asks, "Would you like to get going now?" She adds, looking slightly spacey, "You know, I'm sure we could take Jazz. Us MilOps fliers." Then, she abruptly shuts up, remembering who and what Fleet is. Still, she's confident of that. She alone took a serious dent out of Sunstreaker before he was forced to flee. She alone knocked out Air Raid. She alone forced off Bluestreak just now. If she can do that by herself, she's sure a posse of MilOps types could subdue and capture Jazz.

"Apparently there are people in MSE who can take Jazz on by themselves, so that wouldn't surprise me," Fleet answers as he heads out. "However, Fusillade designated that capture for the Sweeps, and they're off-planet. But all that's neither here nor there." He pauses at the door and looks back. "Ready?"

Fleet moves south to the IHQ Command Center.

Fleet has left.

You move south to the IHQ Command Center.

[travel spam]

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) flies in low, hugging the ground as close as he can in order to reduce his radar return for as long as possible. This has the disadvantage of reducing the distance at which he can see things, however, so as he gets closer to where the Autobots were known to be, he starts to increase elevation, thus letting him notice... that they're not there.

F-35B <Catechism> also flies in low, following Fleet's lead as she did not so long ago. She's fairly good at flying low, in fact. Vectored thrust and knowledge of aerobatics help. When he starts to ascend, she raises her altitude, too. After a bit of looking, she inquires, "What are we supposed to be looking at? I don't see much."

"It's not an at thing," replies Fleet. "We're just looking to see what, if anything's, here. On a recon mission, if you spend too much time focusing on what you're looking /for/ you're opening yourself up to missing what's there." He pauses. "And there's not much here, I admit. Signs that they've moved on, though. You don't move a force that big without leaving signs, and you can see the areas where the rubble has cleared out, or where things have fallen off the transports. See what I'm talking about?" As he speaks, he flies further towards Polyhex (moving RP)

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) moves west to the Road to Polyhex.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) has left.

You move west to the Road to Polyhex.

F-35B <Catechism> considers what Fleet said and answers, "I guess. I suppose thsi sort of work is just a bit open-ended to me, if anything is an answer." Too many options for her, really. She likes her tasks more clean cut. 'Kill *this* Autobot.' 'Blow up *that* bridge.' 'Steal *those* energon cubes.' Still, the F-35 tries to just look instead of looking at.

'Fly through an area and see what's out there,' is pretty clean-cut for Fleet, but to each their own. "Yup. They've moved out. You can see the remains of the encampments, and all the signs of a massive movement of troops and supplies, but they're long gone. It looks like our land transports can use this route to get into and out of Polyhex again. I'd like to take a look at some of the nearer boarder territories to get an idea where they went, though." With that he suddenly veers up.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) rises upward to the Sky above Outskirts of Polyhex.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) has left.

You rise upward to the Sky above Outskirts of Polyhex.

Deserted Roadway <DR>  Customs Gate <CG>  Gates of New Polyhex <GP>  Road to Polyhex <RP> 

'What's out there' is too opened-ended for Catechism. 'What's out there' could be a bottle cap or a digger with a bell tied to his tail. It's not necessarily useful. However, Fleet seems to be learning whatever it is that they need to know, and they haven't been attacked, so it's all good, as far as she's concerned. She tries to see what's in this area, but as far as she can tell... it's just area. Oi.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) flies east to the Sky above Northern Crossroads.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) has left.

You fly east to the Sky above Northern Crossroads.

[travel spam]

You move north to the Drawbridge Over Cyberswamp.

"Yeah, they passed through here." Fleet radios as he surveys the area, flying low. "No longer have their guards set in place, or their sensors. That's a good sign. But I don't want to go any further in this direction..." Then he considers the fact that he's at the North Pole. "For one, there is no more this direction."

It falls upon to Catechism to point out the obvious. What has this crazy world come to? "Well, go a different way, then." Yeah, at least that sort of thing isn't too complex for her. She points out, "I saw a fair bit of the swamp while on patrol. Bluestreak was out there. Didn't seem like any of his compatriots were, though."

"Copy that," is all Fleet says as he once more turns towards the sky.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) rises upward to the Sky above Cyberswamps <North Pole>.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) has left.

You rise upward to the Sky above Cyberswamps <North Pole>.

[travel spam]

You move west to the Magnaron East.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) once more Fleet does the start low, get higher, thing as he approaches the edge of established Decepticon territory... and this time with very discernable results. "They're here all right..."

F-35B <Catechism> just continues to follow Fleet. She's somewhat behind him, so when he says that they're there, she immediately does a weapons-check, just in case. Then, she looks to se just what's there. Ah, that stuff. Maybe she needs more rockets? Heh, silly conehead.

"We're not going to be able to take on /that/ force on our own," Fleet reports as he starts banking for a casual turn. "We've got what we came for. We know they're gone, and we know where they got to. It's time to head home." Despite the drastic change in their relative ranks, Fleet falls back into the old bossy' mode easily enough. But then, this is his mission and he's the one who knows what's going on. It's to be expected.

F-35B <Catechism> was bossy, way back. Then Fleet got rank 2, and she stopped being bossy. Then, she got put in a different wing and promoted. The tables turn often enough that they might as well be lazy-Susans. Still, she's happy enough to comply with Fleet now. He knows what he's doing. She doesn't. It's all for the cause.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) rises upward to the Sky above Magnaron Lake.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) has left.

You rise upward to the Sky above Magnaron Lake.