Temblor nods.
"Thanks, Cryptic. Razorsword, you wake up Ghost and see if he's still fit for battle; Perceptor, see if you can requisition a shuttle for us. I'll head to my quarters and gather my things."
The Decepticon soldier nods absentmindedly, jotting down Hawkeye's name next to those of Razorclaw, Scarab, Groundfire, Ramshot and Gravedust on a datapad.
Elsewhere, on a lifeless satellite orbiting a small, insignificant blue planet, a lone Autobot pauses in the middle of calibrating his ion blaster to turn his gaze heavenward.
A voice comes over his internal vox system. "What is it, Optimus?"
The Autobot does not reply immediately, his gaze hardening in contemplation. "I don't know what's going on up there, Ratchet, but I get the feeling something big is about to happen."
The Danse Macabre CodexHawkeye: That's all of it. *stuffs his gear in a crate exits*
Ramshot: *has finished storing his knives on hidden compartments all over his body, puts all the gear in a backpack and exits too*
Hawkeye: So, What's our ship?
Ramshot: The Darksyde.
Hawkeye: Darksyde? Are you sure that's not a typo?
Ramshot: The others said so. And frankly, I don't really care.
Hawkeye: You never do.
Ramshot: *punches Hawkeye's arm, causing him to rub it in pain on their way to the hangar*
(See ya guys)
edited 21st Oct '10 12:28:06 PM by Strigon
Shameless Self-promotion ho!Razorclaw strode into the hangar, examining their new ship with a critical eye. The Darksyde
◊ was an oddly-shaped vessel, and no mistake; its elongated fuselage, sharply backswept wings and curving, bow-mounted plasma displacers gave the green transwarp cruiser a distinctly organic asthaetic, and the Predacon could not help but imagine it hovering over their destination like some vast predatory bird, raining death and destruction down on the pitiful organics and their imaginatively-named "Earth."
But despite the impressive firepower, Razorclaw knew that there must have been something wrong with this ship if it was being placed under the care of a bunch of rankless Decepticon initiates. The leonine Predacon began to circle the Darksyde, inspecting its hull for flaws, battle damage and imperfection.
His search quickly revealed that the Darksyde, to put it bluntly, was barely spaceworthy. The hull had been holed in numerous spots, and while a good number had been repaired satisfactorily far more had been plugged with badly-welded metal plates and ill-fitting temporary patches that had become all too permanent over her many stellar cycles of service. If the shields collapsed in the middle of a fight, one good hit would be all it took to blow them out of the sky.
"What a piece of junk," Razorclaw spat.
edited 25th Oct '10 6:56:15 AM by SullenFrog
The Danse Macabre CodexHawkeye: *sees the Darksyde and promptly drops his jaw, literally*
Ramshot: *picks it up and forcefully reattaches it* You're welcome.
Hawkeye: *shakes his head* That... Deathtrap, Is our ride?!
Ramshot: I don't like it one bit either, But if Lord Megatron sees it fit that we ride in such a... "vessel" then I trust his decision.
Hawkeye: Have you been taking suck-up lessons from Stars- *is punched on the face*
Ramshot: *simply walks towards the ship, paying no heed to his teammates*
Hawkeye: He really does need coolant... *follows Ramshot*
Shameless Self-promotion ho!Razorclaw sighed.
"No, Gravedust, this hunk of scrap metal is our ship. Disappointing, I know, but we have to make due with what we have..."
And with that, he turned and stalked up the ship's boarding ramp.
edited 25th Oct '10 7:39:54 AM by SullenFrog
The Danse Macabre Codex-The duo board their ride-
Ramshot: *has a liquid of questionable origin drip on his head from a rusted pipe on the hallway's ceiling* That better be energon...
Hawkeye: *is careful not to get his gear wet*
Shameless Self-promotion ho!"I'll admit, it's a piece of slag, but better we be here than on the business end of Megatron's fusion cannon."
Razorclaw stalked onto the bridge and quickly located the dusty, dusty pilot's controls. The Predacon sat down and took the helm, beginning a series of pre-flight checks to make sure that everything on this bucket of bolts was as functional as could be; no sense blasting off if the engines would explode as soon as they fired, after all.
The Danse Macabre CodexHawkeye: *mans the station responsible for the transwarp* Joy... The screen's so old that the words are barely legible...
Ramshot: *sighs and mans the fire control station*
edited 25th Oct '10 9:25:05 AM by Strigon
Shameless Self-promotion ho!Ramshot: *tests the equipment* This is definitely a 1st generation model, Just look at this archaic targeting software.
Shameless Self-promotion ho!Ramshot: Look who's talking, You couldn't even hit the broadside of a space station without expending a few tons of ammunition. *tests the capabilities in a simulated battle*
Hawkeye: *is busy replacing the old screen for a new one*
Shameless Self-promotion ho!With the final flick of a switch, the Darksyde's powerful engines thrummed to life. They spluttered for a moment, and Razorclaw listened intently; if anything was going to go wrong, now was the time.
Fortunately, his fears were quickly laid to rest as the sputter died down a moment later. The Predacon nodded to himself, then proceeded to buckle up his seat's safety harness in case the inertial dampners failed during transit.
"Alright, strap in; we'll be launching shortly."
The Danse Macabre CodexRamshot: *buckles up*
Hawkeye: *finishes replacing the screen then straps in* It'll be a miracle if we take off without any part of this ship exploding.
Shameless Self-promotion ho!Razorclaw snorted. "Not likely; the indigenes are presently locked in a planetwide civil war, but their weapons are primitive slugthrowers and rockets. They haven't even learned how to split the atom yet."
The leonine Predacon flicked a few switches and grasped the helm; in response, the Darksyde gently rose several feet off the landing deck and retacted its landing gear.
"Nemesis, this is Darksyde. We are away."
The dilapidated transwarp cruiser then taxied out of the hangar and blasted off into deep space.
The Danse Macabre CodexRamshot: *undoes his harness and goes back to testing the fire control* Take us close to an asteroid field, I want to see if this "vessel" still has functional weapons.
Hawkeye: *removes the harness and begins to scan the surrounding space for debris or ships*
Shameless Self-promotion ho!Razorclaw's fingers played across the pilot's console, inputing various commands and a long series of numbers. After a moment, he nodded.
"All right, coordinates for..." The Predacon shuddered in distate. "...Earth...are locked in. Hawkeye, engage the transwarp drive on my mark."
Temblor finally returned from his quarters, having gathered the vast majority of his few personal belongings and stored them within a subspace compartment.
"Well, Perceptor?" he inquired gruffly. "What's the status? Do we have a shuttle?"
The scientist turned around, a smile spreading across his face. "Yes, Temblor, I believe we do. I have managed to attain the necessary permits and fill out the required datatrax for requisitioning an Omega Sentinel-class shuttle, the Ark; unfortunately, she does not have a crew...and the three of us alone shall not be sufficient to man such a vessel."
"I see...so we need to find more Autobots. Get on that, Perceptor; in the meantime, I'll head down to the hangars in order to give the Ark a once-over."
edited 3rd Nov '10 7:33:37 AM by SullenFrog
The Danse Macabre Codex

-Hawkeye and Ramshot meet each other-
Ramshot: Going to your quarters?
Hawkeye: Yes, And who's bright idea was it to put our quarters next to each other anyway?
Ramshot: It's Lord Megatron's. And if you have a problem with that, You can take it up with me.
Hawkeye: Sheesh! Get some coolant for that processor of yours will ya? *enters his quarters to collect his hacking and ECM gear along with some scientific equipment*
Ramshot: Humph. *enters his own to get his knife collection and assorted gear*
edited 21st Oct '10 12:14:13 PM by Strigon
Shameless Self-promotion ho!