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With a Thousand Lies (revised)

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Old 05-07-2012, 02:33 PM   #1
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With a Thousand Lies (revised)

Chapter 1: Kids With Guns

The plane was a small one, but comfy. He had to hand it to his allies; they knew how to keep comfort up. Looking at the other passengers and staff, he smiled. They knew where the flight was going, that he was to speak to an important archeological site, but they didn’t know why. He made a silent prayer to the Thirteen for a safe flight. They were over the Pacific, and nearing their destination. He relaxed and prepared to take a nap, happy to be of use and well-known, even if it was in certain circles and not publicly.

Upon waking, he found that they were over some Japanese mountains. How long was I out? He wondered. He was enjoying the view, when he saw a distinct flash. That couldn’t be good. Thank Solus the plane be short. He made it to the pilot’s cabin.
“What in the name of Solus and the Thirteen is going on here?!”
Directing them down, just as the flak round burst where their plane should have been, not where is actually was. He decided to drop the mission and give them new orders.

“Okay, I’m getting my Parachute and some weapons, then jumping out. After that, have one o’dem Stewardesses close the door, and land in the nearest airport. I’ll keep in contact with my headset. Get going!”

Walking back, he felt, rather than saw, the plane dodge more gunfire. He got out of his briefcases (a gift from his allies), and popped it open. He took out a pistol, and holstered it in his right pocket. He closed the briefcase and put on his parachute.

Just then, a shot almost hit, and one of the stewardesses grabbed a hold of him, almost like he was her sanity filter.
“Ishmael, what is going on?”
“Nothing much Arcee, but the plane’s getting shot at. Nothing serious.”
“Brother, you better not be planning on jumping out. Not at this height!”
Life can be funny like that sometimes. He briefly tightened the hold, and reassured her things would work out. Stepping out of the oddly uncomfortable (awkward/unpleasant) embrace, he prepared to open a door, but looked down. He was still too high! He activated his headset (he had been wearing it and listening to music, but he stopped once he saw the flak round).

“Pilots, get us lower, if I jump now, I die.” He said in a somewhat calm voice. The plane dipped, and started to turn, bleeding speed and altitude. He glanced at the door, briefcase in one hand, walking stick in the other. He looked down; the walking stick would fit in the briefcase, and that would open up a hand for the jump.
“Brother… you’d better not ditch that plane!”
“Sorry, what? I can’t hear you!”
“Brother, don’t you dare!”
“Okay, we are low enough that you can jump. Go, go, go!”
He needed no more reason. Opening the door, he swung around it, let go, and swung it shut just before falling under the plane.

1… A flak round burst beside him, the smoke a stain against the world
2… The plane rose and gained speed, flying off, dodging smoke and shrapnel
3… He saw the snowstorm below, not knowing what lay inside
4… The plane had gotten shot, but now he was the target.
5… He opened the chute, and began a somewhat gentle descent, the white canvas blending in well.

His suit? Not so much. I could really use a jacket. He thought. It was cold, but his suit kept him from freezing, his gloves and shoes kept his limbs from bleeding heat, but he had no facial protection.

In the freezing cold of the storm, he found that his consciousness was fading fast. As he blacked out, he thought he saw a city below, a city made of ice…
“Ishmael. Come in Ishmael!”
He stirred. Who was calling him?
“Ishmael, come in NOW! What’s the status of the plane?”
Oh, it was Arcee.
“Ohai Arcee. Plane’s fine. Got shot down via flak cannon. I jumped. Now, I’m in a city of ice. Good looking city, want a vacation home here.”
He heard her sigh (odd, for a mechanical being, but she could disguise as either a human or motorbike, so she had more human mannerisms than normal.)
“Okay, you’re fine. Jolt’s in the area, do you want me to send him to your position? And you’re NOT going to be doing that again, capische?”
“No, not yet. I need to do some exploring first. I’ll put on my HUD Glasses, so you can see what I’m doing. Even if you decide to berate me, you’ve always said that I act more like a Wrecker than an Autobot sometimes.”
“Brother… don’t make me hurt you.”

He felt around his suit, looking for the parachute’s clasps. Finding them, he opened it and got up. The briefcase had been next to him, by pure luck. Opening it, he got out his glasses, and put them on. As they merged with his headset (thank Wheeljack that it worked for once), he contacted Arcee again.
“Okay, sync with the HUD, and we can get exploring, find anyone else. If I need Jolt’s help, I’ll tell you.”
“Roger that, syncing now… Odd, it appears that the city you’re in doesn’t appear in any Japanese databases, though their mythology references it a few times. Also, our satellites can’t see it, only a snowstorm. Okay, get moving, as I’m detecting biosigns near your position. Use the subspace pocket in your briefcase and get out your FAL, as well as a few grenades. You might need them.”
He set down the briefcase, getting out his burst rifle, and got ready to enter the spired building he landed next to.

Upon entering the spire building, he found that it was almost a ceremonial place. Feeling guilty, he tried to sneak out as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb the mystic feel. Making it to a corridor, he saw a few guards approaching. Ducking into a niche, the guards walked past, oblivious.
“The conquest of the village goes well, and now all we have to do is begin processing of the villagers.” This piqued his interest. He wasn’t one for conquest, so he figured he’d shadow these goons. They had on light body armor, and he swore one was an elf.
“Excellent. I can’t wait to have my pick of the women.”
They laughed, and his gut ran cold. He checked to make sure the channel was still open.
“Arcee, are you getting this?”
“Yes. Hold on… Okay, take them out, and try to find some of the villagers. No wonder this place was deserted.”
He got up, and snuck behind the elf. Taking out his pistol, he turned off the safety, and put it behind the bishie’s head. Fire. The other whipped around, preparing to strike; he ducked it, and retaliated with a gut punch. As the guard keeled over, he stuck his pistol under the guard’s chin and fired. Two down.
“Arcee, is there any way to the roof of this building? I figure that I’ll be able to see more that way.”
“Hmm, I can’t tell. However, by modifying the specs of our satellites, I have pinpointed a few Biosigns nearby, I’ve sent Jolt to hover, but you’ll need to meet up with him and form a plan.”
“Roger I’m flowing on over. What do I do about these mercs? I can’t just leave then here.”
She had no comment, so he left the dead bodies behind.

Back through the ceremonial room (he had tears in his eyes, as he knew he was defiling the room, and this place filled him with awe in its beauty), and out into that hallway. He found stairs, and made it to some streets. He saw a house with an open door, and went into it to place his box. Along the way, he saw a snowmobile. Looked to be an Oztsu Yuki, but at the same time looked a bit off. He paid it no heed.
Once in the house, he quickly put his briefcase in a safe and hidden (so he hoped, if not the protective measures would keep it safe) place, he sat down in a chair and opened his comm. channel.
“Arcee come in, this is Ishmael.”
He waited for a bit, and then got a response.
“Ishmael this is Arcee, what’s your situation? Have you met up with Jolt yet?”
He gave some thought for how to respond for a moment.
“No, stashed the briefcase in a house, but I’ll meet up soon. Can you round up the mechs and prepare for a combat drop? I don’t know the situation, but this could be serious. If you can’t get everyone, I’ll take Ironfist and Pyro.”
He waited for her to process this information. When she had, she gave a terse reply.
“This must be serious if you want all eight of us. I’ll make the call, but I want updates every chance you get. Arcee out.”
He nodded, even if she couldn’t see it. The chick knew her tactics, so he knew that sitreps were a must if he wanted their help. He went upstairs to get a better look around. Being a two-story house, there wasn’t actually that much of a vantage point. He got onto a balcony, and looked for the Blue Ampera that was Jolt. While there weren’t many automobiles to begin with (mostly snowmobiles), the few that were here were varied. Finding him was easy enough, so he left the house to meet up with him.
Jolt was quiet as Ishmael walked up, and this disturbed him; Jolt was hyperactive on the best of days, so his being quiet was very bad news. He patted his hood, code for transformation. Jolt proceeded to stand up, with his door windows and lower bumper becoming an X-shaped set of wings. The rest of him was fairly Turian-like, but his face also had some communication arrays on it. He crouched and looked at Ishmael.
“What do you need, bro?” He said, for some reason he decided to download a Jamaican accent upon arriving on earth.
“Any new data? I need to find some biosigns and see if they’re friend or foe.” Ben said; all business when lives were at stake. Whimsy could come later.
“No, but the biosigns are in the building right next to us. If you go up to that building there-” he pointed at a building across the street with a zipline into the one they were next to “-you should be able to see them, and take out any enemies.”
“Thanks, I’ll check it out and se what I can do.”

Walking away, Ishmael couldn’t help but shiver; whatever spooked Jolt was serious, so he had to potentially go cold-blooded. That always grated fiercely on his conscience. Now, he had to find a way up.

Back to the house, up some stairs and onto a balcony. Now what to do… He looked for a way up, and saw only a table, and perhaps a place to grab onto the roof itself. Time he got moving. Now on the roof, he looked for a way up into the zipline building. It wasn’t that far away, being only two buildings away. The first one, another house, presented no trouble in getting across. Now, to climb the zipline building (more of an apartment, but since it had a Zipline or power line of some sort, he was referring to it as such). But it had windows, and balconies, and ways for him to climb it, including the inevitable fire escape. Yay fire escapes? Anyways, that was a great starting point. It was a five-story fire escape, landing on the house he was on. WTF? That was too convenient. Clambering up it was stupidly easy (ever run a flight of stairs? same thing), but fast. It led to a blank window on the same floor as the zipline(power cable[wire-thingy]). WTF?! Going through some doors, around halls, and generally being a creeper, he found the Zipline window. He looked through with a scope. He didn’t like what he saw.
The women were all lined up in the middle of the floor, with one guard per woman, and each had either a rifle or a pistol aimed at them. They were clearly prisoners, but each guard had a lecherous grin on his face. Ishmael’s stomached got nauseous at the sight. He knew what he had to do. Taking aim with his FAL, he shot at one of the guards and was rewarded with a gush of red and his head exploded. He watched them panic, unaware that they had been seen. They regrouped around their prisoners. He took aim again, and shot another one. This time the three-round burst hit him in the neck, then the jaw, and then his skull. Ishmael smiled grimly, but sighed once he saw them shouting at him (well, more of just shouting, but still it was meant to be shouted at him).
“Sniper! Check the area, and FIND HIM.”
They were unnerved, but he deemed irreverent. He found a way to the zipline. He looked at the guards from the window. Of the ten that were there, now there were four. All looked frightened, as did the prisoners. For the briefest moment, he thought he saw a mother-daughter duo. He shook the thought.
“Oh, saw some hostages, gonna free ‘em.”
“Take care brother, and try not to blow up the building.”
“Put emphasis on the ‘try’ sis; this is me we’re talking about.”
Making sure his pistol was secure; he put his rifle on the zipline and jumped. He was ready. They would fall. Time to fight, he thought, these men deserved to die.
The Guards were happy; beautiful women under their thumb, good pay, and an easy job. This was ruined when their superior got his head blown open in a hail of gunfire. They immediately went and put their guard up, each standing away from the window, to avoid being killed. One was oblivious, busy ‘flirting’ with his captive. They heard someone coming on the line, and aimed their guns at the incoming hostile. They weren’t expecting some kid in a suit. The kid then took down two of them with a pistol. The others (minus one) all pointed their guns at him.
“Alright kid, drop the weapons and slide them over. Now.”
He did so, grudgingly. He put his arm up to his head, and a navy holographic display popped up around it.
“Hey, Jolt, my man, you at the base o’ this building?”
“Uh, yeah? Why, are you in trouble?”
“Li’l bit. Can you blow the supports?”
Everyone paled
“Yeah I ca-wait, WHAT?! I read at least seventeen other biosigns in there! Are you mad?”
“Rhetorical question pal. Do it. Several of these dogs need to be put down. But they got me in a bad place. Now do it.”
He smirked, and felt the building shake. As the guards stepped away from the edge, looking around, he lunged. Picking up his pistol he fired off several shots, getting three of the mercs. The building shook again, as Jolt took out yet another support. The building started to lean, and he felt a bullet hit his arm. Thankfully, it was the one not holding the pistol. He lunged, and punched another guard. His arm hurt, hurt so bad, but he refused to fall. The building then partially collapsed, and they all tumbled, and he managed to get another guard, as well as the one who was ‘flirting’. That left five, and everyone was getting up.
“Ishmael, you okay?”
“Hghh, got shot in the arm, but otherwise I’m good. Can you stomp on the mercs? I need to lie down… for a bit.” He grunted in pain.
The mercs pointed their rifles at him.
“Okay kid, look here, wait for the flash, and smile.”
He closed his eyes, and did smile. It was an evil grin.
“Hey, kid, I said to look! LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TAL-hurk”
That last bit was Jolt grabbing him and throwing him at a wall. As mercs went to shoot at Jolt-“Hey idiots! It’ll take more than a few crummy rifles to take him down!”- Ishmael went and shot at them, causing crossfire. The hostages were all hiding on the other side of the room, forcing him to be careful. Two mercs were left, with Jolt having killed another and Ishmael capping one. The remaining two turn to kill him.
“Sorry kid, it’s nothing personal, just the ways things are.”
As they aimed their rifles, they both got impaled, and electrocuted to death. Jolt retracted his whips, And Ishmael walked over to the hostages.
“Ladies, I’m here to help, as is big blue over there. Now, any of you a doctor? I kinda need this bullet removed…”

Back at the Autobot Moon Base:
Arcee sighed, Ishmael and Jolt had managed to free the hostages, but now they were being dragged into a conflict she didn’t want. She felt, rather than heard, Pyro clomping up behind her. She turned, and looked at her subordinates.
“Okay, so we’ve got a situation. I’ve put in the call for Hound to arrive, but it’ll take a month or two. Now, we’re going to liberate this village, since our friend and ally Ishmael got shot down in it. Hardhead-”
The green, grey, and gold tank looked at her
“-your job is to take out their armor. As they’re bound to gear up to fight us, you need to use that cannon and those skills to make it worthless. Landmine, Hoist!”
The yellow and grey loader stiffened. The tow truck simply nodded
“Your role will be to construct defenses. Also, Hoist, you’re pulling double duty as our medic! Pyro, Ironfist, and Wheeljack!”
The three looked at her.
“Your roles will be simple; you’re the front-line troops. Follow my orders and Hardhead’s orders. With luck, we can smash this incursion.”
“Yes, Hardhead?”
“What is your role?”
“I will be organizing the resistance and work with Ishmael. With luck, he’ll have data we need. You have your roles, now let’s contact him and roll out!”
The seven vehicles rolled to the dock, waiting for the signal to arrive.

Comments and criticisms, please. The human will be phased out in favor of the robots, but first he has to get them there.
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There really IS a Bomb Squad Pizza.
With a Thousand Lies (and a Good Disguise)
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Old 05-07-2012, 03:03 PM   #2
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Phew. Nice conclusion there.
Originally Posted by Shatterpoint View Post
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Old 05-07-2012, 03:08 PM   #3
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Originally Posted by optimegatron View Post
Phew. Nice conclusion there.
Thanks. There are nine more chapters in the making, with one more Transformer to appear.

Lemme fix a few things as well; I lost some italics.
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Old 05-07-2012, 04:27 PM   #4
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Pretty sweet start! Hoping to see what happens next soon!

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Old 05-08-2012, 12:04 AM   #5
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Good start can't wait for the next part !!!
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Old 05-08-2012, 10:24 AM   #6
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Originally Posted by Jazzfan0217 View Post
Good start can't wait for the next part !!!
Thanks. The scene at the moonbase wasn't scripted; it just happened. I figure I can use some more moonbase scenes to help set up the dynamics with the Autobots.
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Old 05-09-2012, 03:54 PM   #7
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Chapter two: Under the Radar

I'll start adding some notes at the end of each chapter, usually bios.

15 minutes later…
He took in his refugees. This was going to be tricky(interesting[difficult]) to pull off. He decided some questions were in order. Pointing a hand at the mother-daughter duo, he decided to make them pointwomen.
“You lot, you’re going to take point and scout ahead. There’s a house not far from here (might be one one of you guys own) that we’re going to. From there, we’ll make a plan. Let’s move people.”
His comm. chose to go off before he got to give Jolt orders.
“Ishmael, what were you thinking? You know we don’t take risks that could kill hostages! And yet you had Jolt blow the building!”
“Easy Arcee, it worked, and you can chew me out AFTER we’ve saved the village.”
“‘Bust me on the surface, eh?’ Fine, but I WILL bust you.”
He gave Jolt some orders with hand signs. As they moved towards the house, he resumed talking with Arcee.
“Okay, what in the name of Solus Prime has gotten into you? I’ve never heard you so angry before. Mien Gott, if I know you were this peeved, I’d have just avoided this joint altogether. I saw a chance, I took it, and it turned out well.”
“Ishmael, I know your heart’s in the right place, but just, warn me next time, okay brother?”
She sounded weary, which he could understand very well.
“Yes sister. I understand. Still, I’ll work out a plan, then see if we can use you and the crew as a surprise. Ishmael out.”
He cut the comm., and went to scout out ahead of the others.
“Hey Jolt, go and turn into vehicle mode, and carry the Mother-Daughter duo, and two others.”
His arm still hurt; the bullet hadn’t been removed yet. He waved over one of the women.
“Hey ma’am, can you remove the bullet? It’s really throwing off my groove.”
She sighed, and waved over another.
“She’s a doctor. We’re not used to bullet wounds, but we’ll have to, yeah?”
He smiled and nodded.
“Preach it, sister.”
The doctor went and grabbed his arm. Her hands were surprisingly cold, and it took him some control to not flinch.
“You guys okay? No one should be that sub-zero and still be alive.”
She lowered her head, and he saw her hiding giggles. She squeezed his arm, and it was rather painful(numbing[creepy]) to feel his arm go numb even as she made the bullet rise a bit. She got some tweezers, and slowly pulled it out.
“Ouch, remind me to avoid getting shot madam. But, I guess you’re our medic now. Ah, that hurts. Just a moment, I want to do something.”
He got out his omni-tool, and gestured for everyone to resume walking. As they did, he covertly scanned several of the women. He was disturbed by what he found.

Back at the moonbase:
Ironfist was worried; he was a weapons designer (and Wreckers fan, but so far there wasn’t a reason for the others to know), but his new weapon had some input from Wheeljack.
“Ironfist, how’s the lightformer cannon coming?”
He perked up; Pyro always knew how to calm his nerves. The big Autobot just stood there, watching him put the finishing touches on his cannon.
“It’s done. Your rifles and micro missile launcher are over there. Help me put on the cannon?”
Pyro nodded, and grabbed the power pack.

Arcee sighed. Though Ishmael was an Autobot in spirit, he sometimes acted like a Wrecker. Oh well. She rifled through some of his reports, and memories came back of their first meeting.

Flashback (somewhere in Georgia):
Arcee sighed. This expedition was fruitless. While her wingman, Ironfist, was being helpful, he was beside some sort of sporty sedan. They weren’t near any towns, but she didn’t want to take a risk. She signaled for Ironfist to pass the sedan, only to swerve when she saw a tree crash. Transforming on reflex, she hit the tree and bounced. Her body hurt, and she felt like part of her was broken inside. Ironfist skidded to a stop, only to have the sedan hit him. Not at a fast speed, but still.

The driver got out.
“Hey lady, are you okay? Lady?”
It turned out to be some kid. She sighed, the day wasn’t going well.

Hardhead was in the communications center, chatting with Cliffjumper. Hound’s team was busy trying to avoid the Flotilla, and since the Autobots wanted to avoid that race out of respect, their trip to earth would take longer than expected.
“…so then Sideswipe spins out and has to blow his cover, can you believe it? After that, the guys started firing on the vehicons, and I was able to frag the commander!”
“Good job Cliffjumper. I believe that Hound shouldn’t punish you as severely as he is, but it was still reckless to engage them like that! Any good news?”
“Yeah, we may have planted seeds for Skyquake to change sides. It’ll take some doing, but it might be worth it.”
Hardhead nodded. So far, the Autobots were working on getting Skyquake, Bludgeon, Thundercracker and the Predacons to change sides.
“Alright, we’ve been scouring the databases of Earth for appropriate vehicles. I’ve found two that you and Sideswipe will like.”

Wheeljack was in his lab with Hoist. While his new creation worked, it was better to have Hoist on hand for final testing. He shifted into his earth form, and then triggered the change. He now had several guns and cannons sticking out of his vehicle mode. Now, to change back… He felt odd as he shifted into robot mode. So far, so good.
“Very nice Wheeljack, we should be able to retrofit ourselves with this soon.”
“Or not. Hmm, let me help you with that…”
And so Wheeljack and Hoist went to ironing the kinks out of Stealth Force.

Arcee looked up. Ishmael had sent her some readings. They were of the hostages, but it was organic biosigns mixed in with a familiar substance. This would interest Wheeljack.
“But why do they have Energon mixed into their bodies?”
She sighed, and then remembered something Ishmael had said to her once.
I don’t call you sister because I like the way it sounds. To me, you are a surrogate sister. Your species won’t change that.
She straightened up, and wrote some protocols for when Hound arrived. Now, to check up on Ishmael and the hostages.

The village:
Ishmael was still cradling his arm, but he was also talking with Tsurura and Mizore (the mother-daughter duo), the doctor, and Jolt’s holomatter avatar.
“So, with these maps and Jolt’s skill at receiving and tracking Radio transmissions, we’ve located the nearest mercenary compound. Tsurura, we have enough weapons between us to arm all of the girls, and Jolt can help. But first, we need some more people. Do you know where a prison is around here?”
She nodded, and pointed out that a medical office and a police area were nearby.
“Excellent. We’ll take over that area, and that’ll become our base of operations. With the armory no doubt in the police stations and the medical supplies, we’ll be able to hold our own. I need some of you to take the snowmobile, and cause a distraction with Jolt. Tsurura, Mizore, Doctor, you’re with me.”
Whipping up plans wasn’t his best skill(ability[trait]), and he was actually drawing upon skills learned from gaming. Hopefully, it would pay off. He looked around at the women he had rescued. Sometimes, he wished to damn the personal code he lived by. It often got him into hot water.
“Okay, so we need to consult the maps and do some recon. Jolt, I want you to stay here in vehicle mode. Tsurura, you seem like you know the city. You’re with me. We’re hoofing this, since that snowmobile will be noisy.”

Tsurura nodded, and got her sniper rifle. Recon was important, but so was making sure that stealth remained absolute.

Police Station and Doctor’s Office:
The mercenaries were on guard. After the stunt that took out a group of critical hostages, the ones they had were deemed sacrificial if the need arose. Whoever that punk was, he wasn’t freeing these people.

Ishmael and Tsurura were busy scoping out the area.
“Okay, so that’s about thirty mercs, of which I think the distraction can lure away ten. You and me, we’ll need to stealth the rest, long enough to arm the prisoners and pincer the remaining mercenaries.”
“Right. Though the prison cells won’t be the most pleasant of sleeping arrangements, it would work better than houses.”
Ishmael contacted Jolt.

Jolt was keeping an eye on the other women, and the snowmobile. It seemed familiar somehow. Maybe it was his impulsiveness, or maybe it was the tense situation. But that snowmobile had to be important somehow.
“Jolt m’man, do ya read me?”
“Yeah Ishmael, I hear you. Got a plan?”
“Yeah. Grab two of the women and get them on the snowmobile for a distraction. Then, set Mizore, the Doctor and the other one or two, however many there are, armed and ready. Me and Tsurura have a plan. Just, be prepared, and inform me if you ever find out who these guys are. They seem well-armed, and probably are hiding something.”
Jolt shrugged; Ishmael was a bit of a screwball, but he knew what he was doing… most of the time. He went to go prepare and execute the plan.

Ishmael and Tsurura were sneaking to the back of prison complex. Ishmael knew of these kinds of operations: Arcee used to do them all the time. He hoped that she’d guide him spiritually. His sister was his counterpart in skills, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t duet.
“Okay distraction team, you’re a go.”
“Noted. We’re moving out.”
He didn’t recognize the voice. He thought he knew the voices of the hostages. Probably an oversight on his part.

Arcee studied the village; it took some recalibrations on her part to get things working. The others had done their parts, and now, she could watch and wait. Then she saw what Ishmael was doing.
“Brother, what are you thinking?”
She hoped that his plan would work. She honestly did. Then she saw the snowmobile.
“What is she doing there?”

Ishmael was almost in the main center of the Prison. Why the village even had such a good prison was beyond him. As he got to a railing to look, he saw eighty hostages. With four lined up gangsta style, the others all huddled. One got up and tried to bolt.
“My best friend got away. I can join her!”
She got shot in the leg, falling down. One of the mercenaries went and slammed his rifle into her jaw. Ishmael heard the crack from his location a few floors up.
“Alright bitch, even if your friend got away, that doesn’t mean you will. What makes you think you can get away?”
She looked up at him, eyes fearful, but full of determination.
“It’s so easy. So easy when everyone’s trying to please you.”
She headbutted him and tried to crawl away.
She didn’t get far. The mercenaries aimed their rifles and shot her to pieces. Ishmael saw at least one limb get shot off, in addition to having her head blown open.
“That bitch, that hurt! Serves her right for thinking she can try to resist.”
Tsurura walked up to him.
“Damn them. That was my daughter’s best friend.”
She took aim, but Ishmael managed to get the rifle down in time.
“Lady, if we shoot now, they could kill all of them before we even hit ground level. We have to wait.”

The mercenaries had gotten them lined up against the wall. Smirking, the leader gestured at some of his underlings.
“Ready… aim… FIRE!”
And then there were seventy-five hostages. They saw the blood coating the wall; this had been done before. And likely would be done again. What appeared to be the leader of the hostages was visibly shaking; clearly horrified at what these things had done.
“B-but were surrendered! We’re your prisoners, why can’t you just let us live?”

The leader looked around, checking for a good area to demonstrate why. He grabbed her, and started pushing her around.
“Because you’re not our prisoners; you’re our slaves.”
He raised his rifle, but before he could shoot, an explosion was heard. Muffled, but it must’ve been quite loud. The leader went and pointed to the majority of his forces.
“You lot! Go and check that out and execute anyone you find. NOW!”
He turned back to the hostage leader.
“Now then, look here, wait for the flash, and smile…”
The leader was crying. She was high priestess of these people. Now she would be their martyr.

Ishmael let Tsurura line up her shot, and jumped to a lower level. The leader must’ve noticed them, since he grabbed a different hostage, and the remaining guards went and took four more with guns to their heads. Tsurura fired, and the leader managed to twist his so the shot went into her, not him. Ishmael, on a lower level, simply started dragging his rifle’s stock against bars, placing explosives.
“What the hell are you doing!?”
“Saving lives ma’am, just as an Autobot should.”
They mercenaries didn’t get that nervous though.
“Come on out kid! We promise not to hurt you!”
“Doubt it jackass, now then, why don’t you just listen to good ol’ EP here.”
Plant an explosive here. Walk around, plant one there.
“I’m waiting!”
“Okay, so you got hostages and a VIP. Then what after you’ve killed ‘em? What would you superior think? Big man here thinks he’s in control…”
Line up a shot, snipe a merc, dash to another area to dodge gunfire.
“…but he’s not, is he? He’s just a power-hungry idiot who is drunk with his perceived power, isn’t he?”
Ishmael chuckled; he had most of his explosives planted.
“‘Boy’ is it? This ‘Boy’ is more than capable of killing you.”
“Ha! Then we’ll ju-“
“Kill the hostages? Go ahead, I’ll mourn their deaths, but I won’t mourn yours. Now then, if you’re such a badass, try to stop my gambit.”
Calmly walking down stairs to the next floor, he made sure not to be within range of his bombs.
“Okay, I can easily stop a little gunplay.”
Ishmael smirked; he wasn’t a gunman or sniper.
“Who said it was related to guns?”
He gestured to Tsurura; she was to take shots as he blew parts of the prison. He grabbed his favorite detonator switch.
“Now then, I offer you a chance; stop me from pushing this button-” he squeezed the device and popped open the cap, hovering his thumb over the button “-and prevent some demo work, eh?”
“Boy, you’re an idiot! Men, FIRE!”
Ishmael smirked, and dodged the gunfire.
3… The mercs were missing, and some stopped to put guns to the heads of hostages
2… Tsurura took out two, leaving seven little men left
1… The leader gestured for a stop, since he seemed overconfident
As concrete fell, Ishmael leaped over a railing, ditching his pressure detonator. As he landed in front of the mercs, the leader looked at him. Was that fear that was showing in his eyes?

“Who are you?”
“A visionary; vision is scary!”
He lunged, dodging the rifle swung at him. Tsurura sniped one of the other mercs, causing him to fall, while the others got nervous. The leader just shook his head.
“So boy, what are you going to do with this vision of yours?”
“Simple bro; it ends with a sock and explosions.”
Laughing, the leader went and shot at Ishmael. However, the freerunning loon dodged, danced, and otherwise avoided the shots. Rolling on the floor, he sent a sweeping kick meant to dislodge the leader from his stance. It didn’t work, but did cause him to stumble. Ishmael felt a rifle get pointed at his chest. This wasn’t good. Then he knew pain.

“Brother, what were you thinking!? Jolt! Ishmael is in hot water. Go help him. NOW!”
“Uh, Arcee, we have a problem. Icepick is here. I’ll ask her if she wants to help, but-No Icepick! Don’t kill him! Gah, okay. I’ll go assist.”
Arcee slammed her head on the panel. This wasn’t good. If Icepick was in the area, they had more to worry about than just a bunch of mercenaries.

Hardhead clomped up behind her.
“Are you okay? I heard you screaming.”
“It’s Ishmael. He pulled a Leeroy and now is possibly going to pay the price.”
“What can we do about it?”
Arcee thought for a moment, cradling her head in her hands.
“I don’t know… I don’t know…”

Prison outside:
Jolt was worried. Icepick had agreed to help, but she was still a psycho mass-murderer who was wanted by both sides.
“Alright, I’m new at this. You two-” he gestured at the women “-you go and take point. Icepick, you’re with me. Our goal is simple; rescue Ishmael and the hostages. Understand? You can kill any mercenary, but not the hostages, okay?”
Icepick nodded, smiling in a most disturbing manner.
“Kill the mercs, leave my friends alive.”
Jolt didn’t expect such a psycho cybertronian to have such a ladylike voice. He nodded.
“Okay, let’s move!”
As the quartet went out, Jolt sent a ping for the others; they were to join back up with him. Ishmael would need medical attention. Again.

Ishmael got lucky. Before the gun could fully fire, Tsurura had sniped it. Instead of a chest wound, it was his other arm.
“Great, I’ll start a collection of bullet wounds, y’know?”
“Oh shut up boy, that was a lucky shot.”
The leader had put his rifle back to Ishmael’s chest.
“Now boy, you-”
He never finished the sentence. Icepick had one of her weapons lodged in his head.
“So, you’re the little kid who’s decided to man up and face these guys? You’re braver than I thought.”
And Ishmael attempted to get up, Icepick simply put one of her feet on him.
“Now, next time you wish to use me in an assault, get my permission FIRST.”
Ishmael nodded. This lady was creepy, and that wasn’t because she was a cybertronian. Icepick took her foot off him, and helped him up. Crazy lady was bigger than Arcee! She was still smaller than the other Autobots.
“Okay, now then…”
Ishmael looked around. The mercs were dead. However, one of the hostages was dying. He walked over and cradled her.
“Brave soul, may Prima watch over your soul and guide it to the well. Nexus, may he spread your spirit to the places you love. Vector Prime, may you set her in the times she’s loved and lived to the fullest. And Solus, should she be worthy, forge her into a new life.”
The Snow Priestess was looking at him. She was awed, in a way. Here was a kid, who couldn’t be older than 16, and yet he was treating someone he didn’t know with more respect than she’d seen friends treat their dearly departed.
“Who were you praying to, young one?”
“The Thirteen. I’ve never been invested in earthly religions. But when Arcee gave me an explanation of them, I found that they felt more real than anything else I’ve heard of.”
Icepick snorted behind him.
“Figures, us ‘cons reject them, only for a brat to accept them and show signs of being a true believer.”
Ishmael glared and walked over to her.
“Lady, I’ve been checking and correlating data about the thirteen and the religions of earth. I have one thing to say; check the data yourself. If they’re not real, then earth has one too many parallels for my taste. Now, please, look me in the eye and say that again.”
Icepick may have been smirking behind that mask, he couldn’t tell. But she did crouch in front of him.
Icepick stumbled back, amazed at Ishmael’s audacity.
“Boy, you’re a brave one, try to keep it up.”

He heard Jolt clomping up with the rest of the first six. He gave a cursory nod, only to see Mizore run over to the girl who had been shot to pieces earlier. She was sobbing.
“Daughter, we couldn’t save her if we had tried. Make sure her death wasn’t in vain.”
Tsurura’s words of comfort didn’t go over well.
“Mother, first, the boy I loved ran! Then, we get captured and almost ruined, and now she’s dead! So forgive me if I don’t feel any sympathy from you!”
Ishmael walked over. He looked over the dead girl’s corpse.
“What a poor way to die. At the least she should have had some dignity. Mizore, I know this is hard, but from now on, I know that Icepick, Jolt, all of us, won’t desert you in your hour of need. None of us are getting out of this without scars, but don’t let them bring you down.”
Mizore glared at him, but he was walking off, speaking into the orange device in his wrist. He held his other arm rigidly, and walked over to the doctor.

Arcee sighed in relief. Ishmael was fine, but now they had another issue to deal with.
“Now this looks like a job for me, so everybody, follow me, ‘cause we need a little-controversy, ‘cause it feels so empty without me~”
“Ishmael, what is it?”
“Don’t give me that tone. I liberated seventy-five more, including a VIP. Get your crew ready and get a beacon to Hound; I need you here now sister. I don’t know how much more I can take.”
“Brother, if you stopped taking risks, you’d be in better mental health.”
She smiled, trust him to be hardcore when it came to it, and wait until the coast was clear before breaking.
“Anyway, I’ll see what I can do. Anything else to report?”
“Yeah. These ladies ain’t human, but for now, they’re all we got. Seen no signs of a guy who wasn’t a mercenary. I hope that they haven’t been executed. Also, I think I may have become a follower of the Thirteen.”
“Come again? Anyway, while lamentable, the deal with the men is an unfortunate truth. However, when I arrive, you WILL explain to me why you follow our gods but not yours, brother.”

Arcee looked around, and began issuing orders. Things were getting heated, and in times like this, the Tempest of Iacon was needed.

Notes and Bios:
Ishmael Rappaport:
Ishmael is perhaps a mixed blessing on the Autobots. Normally, he avoids trouble and prefers to assist in more subtle ways such as picking vehicles and assimilating their culture. While this has made him an agent for the U.N., something he didn't want, he tends to stay professional on the job, or silly if things are tense. After learning of the Thirteen, he has spent his spare time cross-referencing them with the various religions of earth. He considers Arcee his surrogate sister, and tends to treat the subject of friendship and camaraderie with more seriousness than a kooky kid like him would appear to.
Weapon of Choice: Explosives. pressure-triggered

Arcee is one of the top commandos and lieutenants in the Autobot ranks. She got her squad assigned as the backup for Autobot high command. while the final member hasn't arrived, she makes do and keeps things running smoothly. After an awkward first meeting with Ishmael and Ironfist, she's found the boy to be a surrogate brother, something she finds odd, since cybertronians aren't usually bound by organic family logic. Smooth and resourceful, she gets frustrated and worried when things are beyond her control regarding her subordinates

I'll write up bios for Icepick, Jolt and Mizore&Tsurura next chapter.
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Old 05-09-2012, 04:20 PM   #8
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Looking forward to seeing how the 13 will play a role in this. at Arcee and Ishmel's little sibling moments.

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Old 05-09-2012, 04:23 PM   #9
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Originally Posted by kaijuguy19 View Post

Looking forward to seeing how the 13 will play a role in this. at Arcee and Ishmel's little sibling moments.
Glad you like it.

They're mostly posthumous or otherwise characters that aren't there. The prayer wasn't intended, but seemed right.
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Old 05-09-2012, 08:38 PM   #10
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Based on some advice from my primary Beta (and to all y'all here, y'all are beta reading this too), I'm going to do some retooling, partially to give Jolt and Arcee some more character, and to make Ishmael's prayer seem less spur-of-the-moment.
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