A New Direction: Part 12
A brand mission, a brand new world where many things are not as they same and thier true objective is not even known to them.
PART TWELVE
[Outside Satyr-9’s]
Rhapsody growled. She was late, and none too happy about it. Wraith would be wondering where she was by now. She had been caught up talking to Catfish, and in her defense, time didn’t seem to pass naturally whenever the two of them talked. The Fuzor had asked her if she knew where to find a glass rose and the conversation had flowed (tumbled?) from there. It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted to speak with Catfish. In fact, a few minutes with ‘Fish was more interesting than an hour with most other ‘bots. It was just that Rhapsody liked to be punctual, on time.
She was getting close now. A few more feet, another corner…and she’d be almost there. That was, if Wraith had given her the right directions. The song-bird’s pace quickened. She snapped a turn around the corner of the last building.
Instead of running into the bar, she ran headfirst into Grapple.
Both of them jumped, but Grapple recovered first. He’d already been shocked once that night. There was a ‘chunk’ as the tortoise loaded a shell into his right shotgun port. He raised a meaty fist and fired point blank.
Rhapsody twisted – years of experience making her react without thought. It wasn’t enough, though. Shotgun pellets bit deep into her metallic skin, raking across her left arm and upper torso. Her body erupted with pain. Rhapsody hit the pavement with a grating thud.
The song-bird tried to roll away on her good side. Grapple pivoted, lashing out with his foot. The tortoise’s foot connected violently with Rhapsody’s jaw, snapping her head back with blinding speed. Her temple smashed into the ground on the other side. Bleeding, barely able to breath, she remained still after that.
A knobby shadow loomed at the edge of her vision, blocking out the light of a far away street lamp. Through a haze of pain, she could hear Grapple’s raspy voice as he mocked her from above.
“Well if it ‘aint little miss bitch,” he said laughing at the fallen Maximal. “Funny how things come around, isn’t it,” His foot whipped out again. This time it slammed into her injured left side. Rhapsody moaned and tried to turn away. All it got was another kick from Grapple.
The Pred leaned down closer to his victim. The plasma burns and explosives scars came startlingly and sickeningly into focus. In the half light, he could have easily passed as some sort of monster.
Which was exactly what he was.
“Now what’s a pretty little thing like you doing all alone at night, all the way out here on the Rim I wonder? Something to do with me and Croakers perhaps?” He brought his fist down across Rhapsody’s face.. There was a sickening crunch of metal. She passed out without another sound.
“We’ll just have to find out, now won’t we?” he whispered to the limp form. Reaching down he grasped Rhapsody by the collar and lifted her into the air. Seemingly without effort he slung the Resistance leader over her shoulder and lumbered off. It was time to get some information.
Grapple smiled.
Who knew? He might even get to torture it out of her.
A loud ‘crash’ sound fills the void in the night air. It sounded as if someone had just smashed threw a window…
Turning from the song bird’s blood, we find Jungle. The dark warrior struggles to get his head together. Glass chucks rest all around him and a few are imbedded in his organic sections. The tumble combined with the large amount of alcohol the panther-bot had consumed this evening had put him off his game…
A few cycles prior…
Jungle growls. Rhommer was within spitting distance. Jungle had thought the big shot had left. He was wrong obviously, but hey – whatever. JJ had little desire to get into a slug match with him. Little could be gained. Jungle was hopping to use the lug as a way to find the other targets. That was not to be. Rhommer was piss drunk and only interested in brawling…
Though – going one on one with the Conformist might give J a name in these parts. That might cause those he sought, to come to him. Yes – a little role reversal. This situation had opportunities after all…
Tucking low, Jungle’s other hand sword extends. From the corner of his eye, he spots Wraith on an intercept course. Not taking his eye off the ball, Jungle calls to him. “Wraith, high.” Wraith understood – a double team was about to take place. Jump jets emerging from their back compartment, Jungle is propelled forward at an astonishing rate – homed in on the Pred’s legs. Rhommer barely has time to turn, before Jungle knocks into the 14 footer, sending him staggering back. Wraith engages, giving the bull a good kick, flooring the titan.
Following up with a lunge attack, Jungle prepares to drive his hand blades threw Rhommer’s chest. Mentally, Jungle retrains himself from going for a lethal strike. Rhommer wasn’t out. He actually catches Jungle. Had Jungle not been made sluggish from the toxins he ingested, he would of sliced at the bull’s arms, thus gaining his freedom.
That is; had he not been made sluggish from the toxins he ingested. Acting quickly, Rhommer tosses Jungle away like a rag doll. We hear Wraith re-engage Rhommer, but our focus remains on the dark warrior.
He attempts to gain control of his tumble via a burst from his jump jets, but that fails.
Out the window the ex-MSP agent goes.
Bringing us up to speed.
Back on his feet, Jungle rubs his head. Even in Jungle’s state he knew something… wasn’t right. Years of experience coming into play, Jungle examines the scene. His cat eyes zero in on the mech fluid, left by Rhapsody. Right away Jungle knows what it is, but inspects it none the less. A burst from his jump jets, gets the cat there post haste.
He rubs the fluid between his fingers. This was a rough planet. Some pure soul probably crossed someone they shouldn't of, Jungle deduses. Sniffing the air, he recognized a scent; Rhapsody’s.
Rhapsody's scent hung fresh in the air. Primus; could this be her fluid? There was another scent to. One Jungle didn't recongize...
A fight obviously happened here - the fluid level. But was Rhapsody the victum or the victor?
Eyes narrowing and letting out a low growl, Jungle sees a fluid trail leading off down the street. “Beast mode.” Jungle states. Jumping foward, Jungle sniffs the air again. Both scents were strong in the direction of the fluid trail.
But the trail wasn't going in the direction of the Penance or the barracks. Still doesn't mean this fluid is Rhapsody's though. But that 'chill' down his spine said otherwise...
Sniffing the air again, Jungle sets off, following the fluid trail. It was time for a hunt… Jungle wasn't at his best right now. He could use the aid of a few trackers and warriors... he opens a comm link...
"Relic, Querion, Spacedust, Caska, Burnout, Buckshot; we have a situation. Home in on my postion."
The message was vage on purpose - using the comm at all would/could endanger their cover. That's why Jungle had yet to use it. Though currently, he didn't see what choice there was. Jungle upped not to call on Wraith - he knew of Wraith's and Rhap's relationship. If the song bird was in trouble, then Wraith's emotions would be a risk to her and the task force.
Dusty was having the time of her life, ducking and weaving through the melee, never staying in one place too long. She was just about to conk some unlucky bot on the head when she received the comm message from Jungle.
"Hellstars, just when I was gettin' warmed up..." Dusty quickly ducked a drunken punch aimed at her then tripped the offending LC bot up, causing him to fall backwards into a group of Square-in-Circles. In the ensuing chaos (or rather, increase in chaos), Dusty switched to her beast mode and leapt out the nearest window, which some kind, thoughtful bot had already smashed earlier.
She glanced around, noticing the mechfluid, then quickly loped towards Jungle's position. It only took her a few seconds to catch up to the black pantherbot, her nose telling her where he was, even if her eyes couldn't quite make him out in the darkness.
"What's the sitch, Jungle?"
Something wasn't right. Querion drummed his fingers on the pool table, absently taking a sip from his tankard. There was this gnawing doubt at the back of his head, and no matter how he tried to suppress it, how he tried to ignore it, it didn't seem to go away. The wolf-bot struck with his cue, the cue ball bouncing harmlessly off the sides of the table without hitting a ball.
"You all right?" asked Trance.
"Fine. Just fine," muttered the swordsman, shaking his head slightly. He was not supposed to miss that. He backed away from the table, so that Trance could get a shot. Querion looked hungrily at the brawl, mech-fluid rushing and adrenaline pumping.
"Relic, Querion, Spacedust, Caska, Burnout, Buckshot; we have a situation. Home in on my position."
Damn. He knew something was amiss. Why hadn't he acted on his hunch?
"Take your time. I'm going to be off for a while," Querion said, placing his cue by the table. He bypassed the fight, sneaked a quick peck onto Timber's cheek, and took off after Jungle.
"Aw hell, just when things were gettin' fun." Buckshot said after hearing the comm. "Yo Mimi!"
"Yeah?" she asked as she broke a chair over someone's head.
"I gotta be runnin' with some of the other guys for a little while! Don't wait up, huh?"
He shoved someone out of his way and hopped over a fallen chair, following Querion out the door.
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Filch glanced oddly at Penji, then back at the femmes. Lightbulb!
"Ladies, I'd like you to meet my occasional assistant and test subject, Penji! Isn't he just ever so adorable?"
The femmes tilted their heads, making a dual "awwww" sound, and Filch heard the luscious ka-ching sound in his head. This could be profitable.
"Now, as Penji here shall demonstrate, the Buffotron 5000 is Cybertronian-approved and dishwasher-safe! If you'll just allow us a short demonstration..."
Filch pulled out a small handheld buffer and attached it to one of Penji's flippers. He flipped a toggle and the Buffotron began shaking and rumbling as steam poured out its exhaust ports. Penji tittered as he felt it gloss his flipper to a gleaming shine.
Wraith hadn't noticed Jungle leave after the double-team on Rhommer, he just kept pummeling the drunken Predacon. His interest was soon lost however, as drunken fighters pose little to no challenge and, thus, are no fun. He did however, notice his buddies Querion and Buckshot leaving. Now it wasn't much like Buckshot to run out in the middle of a bar-brawl. Hell, nobody loved a good fight more than Buckshot and Wraith did, this peaked the wolf's curiosity. He kicked Rhommer in the head one last time and leapt over to the door.
"Hey guys, what's up? Where you goin'?"
"Shiny feathers!" Penji said, kind of happy and mad about it at the same time. He then, in a rare sight, transformed, now being a nicely decked out robot sprawled out on the table, facing the fembots. "Shiny metal better!" his left hand announced. His hand, which was also his beast mode head, continued doing all the talking, while his real head just smiled and looked good. He grabbed the buffer, buffed his chest for a just long enough for the positive effects to be clear, then handed the buffer to one of the femmes. "Here, you try!"
==
Caska, meanwhile, had gotten Jungle's message and was following it post-haste. The fight was fun, but she wasn't here to play around. Clearing a path with her sword, she ran the shortest path to Jungle, which happened to be out the window Rhommer had thrown the cat through. Once outside, the pool of mechfluid was obvious, though Caska had not the hunter's skills to determine whose it was. It was fresh, though, she knew that instantly. She walked further, following the trail and closing in on Jungle, who she finally spotted, with Dusty.
"One of ours?" she asked, looking down at the trail.
"Just like you quit right in the middle!" Mimi said chuckling. She ran and jump kicked a lightning corp officer to the ground that was gaining the advantage on Solarflare. The finch's arua was fadeing and he wasn't long for this fight. Around him lay a heap of burnt drunkards recovering from the high intensity pulses of Plasma. He was bleeding profusly out of his head from a bottle shot and was looking for an exit. Thankfully Mimi was there in the nick of time. "Need some help Star." Mimi had called Solarflare 'star' from the day after he found her in the alley way. He had know clue why, he just knew she was a little weird.
Solarflare glanced at her with a half glazed over look and fell backwards. The fight seemed to be subsiding. Everyone left was still either drunk, passed out, injured or worse. Most of the crew members were cleaning wounds and grabbing a drink before heading back to the ship. Solarflare didn't notice the few that had left becuase of his current state. Solarflare attmpted to stand but fell back down again. "CR." He said "My arua is drained." He finished with a cough. Mimi bent down and helped him up.
Solarflare had never really noticed Mimi's beauty before, but he took notice on the way back to the ship. Perhaps it was the alcohol, actually it was the alcohol. Both of them were filthy drunk. Once at the ship Solarflare colapsed into a CR bath, he let out a breath of how much better he felt already. Mimi stood on the outside of the bath a cocked her head sideways for a minute. "Mind if i join you?" She said smiling. Solarflare was shocked for a moment and let out a intoxicated grin of his own.
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Grapple stomped along with Rhapsody on his back. The stupid song bird was bleeding all over him, he hoped she would save some so he could take it out manually. Rhapsody and regained consiesnus but wasn't moving much, she was afriad of what would happen if she tried to make an escape.
The former commander laped in and out of a passed out state. Fighitng to keep her senses activated and waiting for somthing to happen to warrant a escape. "Hey Grapple! WHAT ya got there!!" A drunk lighting corps agent yelled across the alleyway. "Tonight play thing!!" He laughed taking another drink of a bottle of 100 proof energy liquor. Grapple was startled by the passer by and nearly blasted him.
"Shove it Rockslide." He said walking passed. Even for having the upperhand he knew those damn maximals would be somewhere, the question was, how many.
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"Not enjoying your own party?" Gaul said as Metalicron walked along in the military "Barraks." They had ben placed on.
"Huh? OH no. Too much work to be done." The parrot said smiling and pointing at a folder in his hand. "Want the tour?" Metalicron said pointing towards his intened direction.
Gaul still thought his old friend was acting a bit strange but this could be a good chance to spot their targets. "Sure." he said walking towards the door aswell. The two walked into a large room with employees walking aroudn casualy. Some were wroking on computers and doing other random tasks but the mood was relaxed, probably becuase of the hour. He watched the military leader walk over and hand a folder to a soilder. It looked like he was explaining a mission to him. The gruff soilder huffed and walked off.
"Excuse him." Metalicron said walking back to Gaul. "Croak has always been rough around the edges." An alarm went off to Gaul but he didn't want to react to quick. He quickly glanced at the soilder again. IT was him. Gaul made a mental note and moved to change the subject.
"So what exactly are you guys doing here."
“Oh….” Burnout said, standing up. “Well what WILL work on you? Gee.”
Rita just crossed her arms. “I’m wating…”
“Oh gee Rita I’d love to but…. OH! LOOK! A bar fight! ‘Scuse me a moment!”
Cutting the conversation short, Burnout jumped into the fray.
"Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five..." counted Timber, as she delivered blow after blow at the throng of brawlers with the tankard. The makeshift weapon gave off a nice hollow ring whenever it struck a Conformist, adding a new sheen of mech-fluid with every hit.
"See you later," murmured Querion, as he passed her, delivering a quick peck on her cheek. She smiled slightly, and renewed her Conformist-pounding efforts. Timber looked around a few minutes later, surprised to find everyone lying unconscious on the ground.
"That's all? Sheesh," she lamented, going off to get a drink.
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"We've got a situation," Querion quickly explained. "Jungle sounded really urgent. And I don't think the panther gives false alarms."
The wolf-bot finished his sum-up, and burst out of the doors with Buckshot. He stopped in front of the puddle of mech-fluid, his olfactory senses going into overdrive.
"You recognise this?" asked Querion, suspicion dawning in his optics.
"Uh-huh," muttered Buckshot, his face turning stern.
The two smells mingled slightly, but the putrid, cruel stench was distinct from the sweet scent of a songbird. Grapple. And Rhapsody.
"Should we tell him?" Querion asked Buckshot in a low voice, looking furtively at Wraith.
Further away from the trio of dogs…
A pack of beasts rush down the empty early morning streets. Well, several figures are staggering about, who were kicked out of a tavern - but they don't count. A panther is in the lead, flanked by a dingo and a Caska.
Jungle growls slightly, answering both questions at once. "I don't know, Caska. We're following two scents. One of them is Rhapsody's…" The dark warrior felt the rest could be inferred from that. When possible, Jungle liked to keep his comments brief - just his way.
The fluid trail wasn't continuous anymore. Evidence that the pair the beast warriors were pursuing, had increased their travel rate. Jungle wasn't exactly an expert, but he had experience - his experience was telling him that the leaking individual was being carried - inferred from the way the fluid had fallen on the ground. Not enough though for Jungle to determine if this mech fluid was the song birds… but there was that feeling…
En-route, they passed by a couple of other mech fluid patches - this was a rough planet. JJ's noise kept them on the right track, however… even intoxicated, Jungle was an expert tracker. However, all this 'running' was giving him a queasy stomach… a few times the cat also almost slipped…
Buckshot frowned, clearly not wanting to break the news. Boy, it was a good thing he didn't have any terrible revelations like this waiting around the corner.
"Uh. Okay. Huddle." he told Querion. The two moved closer together, as Wraith watched them oddly.
"Blood."
"Puddle."
"Rhap's?"
"Definitely."
"Crap."
"Smells?"
"Can't."
"Sees?"
"Blocked."
"Vicinity?"
"Nobody."
"Restrainment?"
"Unadvisable."
"Options?"
"None."
"Tell him?"
"Bingo."
The two stood up and turned to him, and Buckshot rubbed his neck sheepishly, a frown on his face.
"Uh...Wraith? This is Rhapsody's mechfluid. Someone kicked the crap outta your girl, and judging from the smell of this other blood, it was Grapple."
Rubmur and Weede leaned against the bar, looking around, taking in the scenery.
“S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y, Night!”
This was heard, albeit one would have to strain, over the music system. The noise blocked it from others, but Rubmur recognized it immediately. And quickly he stood up straight, grabbed a hold of Weede’s hand, and ran towards the dance floor. It wasn’t lit up, and there weren’t anyone dancing, but Rubmur instinctually knew where it was. As he was running, he stopped, realizing he couldn’t dance to the full extent with Weede.
Thankfully, to his left, was a nice looking femmebot, he paused, asked her to dance, and then continued running to the dance floor. They began to dance, but both were soon interrupted by a large ‘bot, with two others behind him, questioning Rubmur as to why he was dancing with “His female dogbot.”
Wraith stood still for a moment, staring blankly at the two bots. He didn't quite seem to comprehend what Buckshot had just told him, it was taking a while to proccess in his mind. Querion and Buckshot glanced at each other nervously. Slowly, the young assassin stepped towards the puddle of mechfluid and drew two fingers through it. He sniffed the blood, as if he didn't believe them. It couldn't have been Rhapsody's...it just... couldn't. But it was, the scent was clear and smells don't lie.
Wraith slowly rose to his feet and turned to his friends. He gripped his katana and spoke in a low, menacing tone. "Which way?"
Querion activated his visor, initiating an area scan, with Jungle's frequency as target. Hopefully the panther still kept his signal on. After a few long seconds, there came a 'bleep', as a communications frequency was set up.
"Jungle, this is Querion. I have Buckshot and Wraith with me right now. Where are you? We have a boyfriend in need of some anger-management right now."
With; the cat, the dog and the fuzor…
(Hope this is alright with everyone and the powers that be…)
The fluid trail was continuous once more - the pair had slowed, slowed considerably. The mech fluid build up was indicative of Rhapsody and her companion moving at snail’s pace. This could mean several things; one – they were tired. Two - they were nearly their destination. Three – they knew they were being followed - which could imply a possible trap or resistance ahead…
Crouching low, like lions ready to pounce on a zebra, Jungle, Dusty and Caska trekked onward. Each was at a high state of alert. Cautiously sticking their heads around a bend, the targets come into sight…
Right away JJ and the ladies zero in on whom the other scent belonged to; Grapple. He had an injured Rhapsody flung over his shoulder like a rag doll. How bad were the songbird’s injuries? Jungle couldn’t tell. The fact that Grapple seemingly didn’t mind being covered in Rhap’s fluid, was somewhat disturbing on Jungle’s end. The dark warrior’s instinct were correct after all; his second was in trouble…
Quickly, the trio disappears back around the bend, removed completely from Grapple’s viewing window. Grapple wasn’t looking in their direction - thus their zero detection status remained.
Immediately, Jungle began formulating a plan in his clouded mind, though it is Querion’s communication that breaks the silence. As in following protocol for black op missions, the volume of Jungle’s com was way down. Querion came across as whispering. Jungle had seen a few young Maximal Secret Police agents fall, for failing to take that precaution…
"Jungle, this is Querion. I have Buckshot and Wraith with me right now. Where are you? We have a boyfriend in need of some anger-management right now."
“Hold.” Jungle replies, letting Querion know that his message was received. Jungle pulls up a map of the area, in his viewing window – given when they arrived on this rock. There were two Maximal emblems present; one representing Jungle’s position and the other of course representing Querion’s position. “I’m one sector away due north. Spacedust and Caska are with me. We were following a fluid trail, confirmed to be belonging to Rhapsody. We presently have visual conformation of our targets; Grapple, who is forcefully holding the injured Rhapsody.”
Jungle inferred from Querion’s message, that the dogs were already aware that Rhapsody was endanger, the whole; ‘we have a boyfriend in need of some anger-management right now’ part. But the panther wanted to be sure that everyone was indeed on the same page. Now having apprised Querion and co of what the situation was and what the current situation is, Jungle continues on.
“This is the deal, so all sides pay attention. Querion and Buckshot will converge on my position. Simultaneously; Spacedust and I will force Grapple, toward their position. The goal here is to box Grapple in and contain him. Meanwhile, Caska will take to the air and retrieve Rhapsody. We can’t be certain at what point Caska will be able to liberate Rhapsody, so the usage of lethal force has not been authorized. Be alert to deal with a possible hostage situation. Shadow tactics are to employed by all participants.”
Shadow tactics; stay unseen – don’t draw attention – make it fast and final. Jungle actually managed to sound like a competent commander. Who knows, maybe the ex-slug can rise to the occasion after all. Yes, Jungle had excluded Wraith from these plans. A fact everyone picks up. Obviously Jungle considered the wolf a risk. Allowing a moment for those details to sink in, Jungle continues on again. “Wraith, head back to the tavern and make sure the situation there is contained.
Let’s get this done.”
Jungle’s communicator crackled ever so quietly as another voice whispered through; “… hate these things. Is this on? Jungle this is Relic, have heard everything and understood. I’m nearby, and have visual of the target. If the rat bolts unexpectedly, I’ll try and push him back into the trap… am also prepared to deal with the… volatile element… confirm?”
On a rooftop several yards away from Grapple, Relic took a clawed finger of the communicator. Hoping that Jungle had understood the final portion of his message, and that his frustrated fumbling with the communicator had insured that Wraith wouldn’t get the chance.
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