.003 ← Text Files; Video || Untraceable Portal Signature || Soundwave discovers his Place of Solace

[stand_witness]

[ There is no coordinates on the short video feed, but a timestamp does appear at the lower right hand corner. It's only the image of the Nemesis, though, just...floating. Yes, that's a fully capable Decepticon warship floating somewhere off the coast of Promenade. ]

Comments

[text]

[notglitching]

[...Wow, Soundwave. That's...

Really. Obvious.]

Function (Soundwave): surveillance.

Purpose: publicizing base of operations?

[Did Rinzler forget to encrypt that? Oops.]

[action!]

[notglitching]

[The slamming door confirms it: Soundwave does have admin access here. But better to be stuck in the hallway than trapped inside a sealed room.

The drones are a problem. Easy enough to follow. Easy enough to fight. Darkness is hardly a difficulty when he can track by motion, sound, energy. And he has observed them with sight as well, knows how to map echoes to skittering legs, flickers of movement tracing the reach of swiping claws. The program's faster. Incomparably more skilled. But this fight is not to his advantage. Rinzler slips back as more drones enter scanning range, attention staying on the wider area. These creatures aren't true threats, and the satisfaction of derezzing them isn't worth distraction, here.

Of course, he can hardly ignore them, either. Proximity to the wall limits the direction of attack, but they're still coming, closing. The program parries a claw, forfeits surrounding data for a quick scan above-there. Calculation, assessment, and he reaches down. Baton, not disk. The program flicks the rod upwards, and

[action!]

[stand_witness]

[ No, he isn't. But in all that short melee, Soundwave was watching through the eyes of every drone approaching, or being cut down by those disks.
Inventive little program, using the cabling as a platform to gain a clear path, but once again Rinzler is hemmed in by the attachment to the wall, and unless he wants to risk the floor again, when that cabling twists, and turns through the warren of wide hallways, he must follow it. It leads, eventually, to engineering, and blast doors, and code locks or not, that simply will not do.

And so Soundwave, finally begins to set up his endgame.

The cabling moves through one more set of airlock doors - safety measures in case of a catastrophic hull breach - but whether Rinzler chooses to go through that set of doors, or no, the hallway dead ends into a lift. The clicking legs of drones, both on the floor below, and now climbing the sheer walls as they are want to do when reaching the overhead lighting, Rinzler is being corralled.

Make your choice, little program; the lift, or the drones? ]

[action!]

[notglitching]

[The path's straightforward enough. Too straightforward. Rinzler's rumble ticks out with just an edge of frustration. He enjoys a hunt. He enjoys a challenge. But the enforcer's not quite overconfident enough to miss the intention behind the route he's forced to take. He's being herded. And Rinzler's not prey.

The lift doors block the path ahead, and the program's dash comes to a quick halt. He stares, registers the override controls to the side, splits his disks and sends a quick cast arcing down to drop a climbing drone. Even if he wanted to follow this path, trying to access the interface while dealing with the mass of drones...

...isn't necessary. Proximity activates them, and the doors slide back. In the darkness, it's hard to tell what's there from this angle, scans only reaching partway across the lift's floor and wall. A large space (though what isn't, here?). Empty, at first inspection. Though he almost thinks he can see something. A faint glow

[action!]

[stand_witness]

[ And you willingly walked into Soundwave's territory. It was a mistake to be so overconfident, a mistake to go hunting despite the lack of knowledge about the playing field, and the biggest mistake of all; to think he wouldn't know every inch of the Nemesis from prow to aft.

Rinzler was on the floor of the lift, but the doors stay open, the the drones...stop. Chittering, and clicking just beyond the threshold. And in the darkness, from above the faint violet glow of Soundwave's circuits shed the only light there is in this section of the ship. He was flexible enough, and strong enough to hold himself up in the ceiling by one "hand" and "feet" alone, thus it's three separate feelers that leave their docks, and snap out, viper-fast, for the locking 'fingers' on the ends to grab at each of Rinzler's wrists, with one tentacle snapping out to coil around the program's legs. ]

[action!]

[notglitching]

[The sequence is a blur. Visuals mapping, matching, recognition fixing in his processing-followed by motion, impact, threat. He's glancing up as the coils slam downwards, twisting aside even as the feelers make contact. Rinzler's crouching, turning, leaping away. It's almost effective.

One feeler misses its mark entirely. The second? Doesn't. The program's circuits flare back in bright orange agitation as a metal talon clamps on his right wrist, halting his momentum. He's quick enough to curve back fluidly from the arrested jump, draw away somewhat from the other reaching coil, legs tangled, but not caught. Rinzler keeps in motion, swivels around the grasp to strike in with his second disk, sever the latching appendages at the feeler's tip. Get out. His attention's upwards too, noise a quick and vicious growl as his gaze flicks to his opponent directly.

This is the fight he wanted. If not how he'd planned to start it.]

[action!]

[stand_witness]

[ That stung something terrible, but Soundwave was relentless this time. Four, and five feelers leave their dock, trading out for the injured one ( for now ) as the protected cabling swarms Rinzler; snapping for limbs, swiping at legs, and coiling like a serpent in front of the darting program to arrest his movement, and is all else fails, slap that little program against the metallic wall of the lift.
It's easier, for the moment, to track the obscenely fast, and agile program from where he is, so Soundwave isn't moving.

He does, however, let the speakers installed on either side of his helm screech out a high-pitched, static-laced burst of frequency in an effort to throw off Rinzler's targeting systems. If he could just get a hold on those arms, and restrain movement the rest would fall into place. ]

[action!]

[notglitching]

[This is just ridiculous.

Three coils become four, five, many. Rinzler's hardly tracking individual attacks as a sea of shifting metal surrounds him. It's reflex, motion-duck a grasping claw, twist aside as a coil snakes around, push above, slash out around, drop below. He needs to move. Needs to close, attack the target, not its peripherals.

The burst of static wrecks through his processing, sheer volume sending sensors to overload before functions cut in, auditory input halting to protect him. Just nanos of lag. But still lag, still error, and a swiping tendril catches him in the side, slams the program against the hard metal wall. There's a gap as it pulls back, before more coils snake in to press the attack, and Rinzler glares up at the dim purple of the mech's faceplate, angles a quick upward toss, white-edged disk burning bright with ready violence as it tears through the space between.]

[action!]

[stand_witness]

[ Ah, but you only get success with the same trick once. Five tentacles, all focused on Rinzler, and restraining him. But that free hand is still more than capable of moving in front of Soundwave's faceplate long enough to deflect the disk. He'd hoped to catch it, but the score on the flat wingtip of his "arm" caused just enough of an automatic flinch that the disk rebounded. It's a bit of a desperation move to undock a seventh feeler to snatch that sharp, painful little disk before it could make it back to Rinzler completely.

One captured.

That just left reeling the burning, painful little thing up out of the program's immediate reach, though Soundwave is forced to undock an eighth feeler to play hot potato with the active disk between the two. He was running out of the less-sensitive, combat capable feeler tips to use, and one was already wounded. Just need to stall a bit more so the preoccupied others could make one more grab, in concert, for wrists, and legs. ]

[action!]

[notglitching]

[...He. Just.

No.

Rinzler's focus freezes to a sharp point. Not on the deflection. Not on the swarming mass of feelers, though he'd be hard pressed to avoid them in such close proximity.

On. His. Disk.

Not just averted, not just batted aside. Retrieved. (NO.) The program's empty hand snaps down, sound a furious snarl as he flings it back up in an arc. His disk was taken/(stolen)/changed and that could not happen-he wouldn't let it, wouldn't-

The coils slam down around him, and motion's well and truly quelled, if only for the moment. But though he's twisting, struggling in sharp bursts of rage against the holds now pinning him at wrist and shoulder, the feelers now pressing legs and body down against the ground... that's not where Rinzler's attention is. The mask stays fixed upward. On the disk. But also on the path of motion. From that second toss. Three smaller circles, still glowing bright red-orange, tossed to latch onto the upper reaches of the coils. They're flat, not edged, though they clamp on contact. And their outer

[action!]

[stand_witness]

[ The technology may be unknown to Soundwave for the most part, but it would take a complete idiot to not notice the way the cyclic rings of light were counting down - quickly - and with only a series of beeps for warning.

Rinzler just threw explosives with locking mechanisms on them.

...This was going to hurt.

It's all Soundwave can do to cinch those five tentacles hard around the program, shoving their not inconsiderable weight down, just to hold the struggling little humanoid in place, and then brace for impact himself.

The explosion rocks the lift itself, leaving bright, orange-lit scorch marks up the walls ( the decking is made to withstand close quarters energon weapons discharge ) but that orange is splashed liberally with streaks of bluish-violet energon as well. It takes a handful of microns for Soundwave to reactivate his optics, but short of the way he'd locked his limbs into place, there was no avoiding the explosions. Quick stock ( and the radiating pain ) showed two tentacles were badly damaged, but still reasonably

[action!]

[notglitching]

[He'd expected the mech to be resistant to the damage. He'd expected the mech to notice to attack.

What Rinzler hadn't expected? That Soundwave would hold on regardless.

Voxels crunch with the force of the sudden press, fracturing to the edge of instability. Nowhere to move, no room to twist or evade as he's shoved down, gripped, held. Rinzler's helmet blanks visuals in protection as the blast goes off, and he jerks aside, pulls away in the aftermath, but he can't. The pressure isn't gone.

(Trapped.)

The sinking panic only grows as the flare fades, dimmer glow of circuits sufficient to light the thinner tendrils creeping in. He tugs, twists, gets nowhere, cool metal sliding around to grab him, flip him (no). Noise cuts out loud, jagged, furious, but he can't do anything, can't fight can't run-it has him, it has his diskHis grip locks around the second weapon with something stronger than reflex as the coil comes in to wrench it away. The edge flares hyperactive, useless aggression pouring to the humming blade. Touching it won't be

[action!]

[stand_witness]

[ With the onset of shock, Soundwave was not yet truly aware of his injuries, but to anyone looking, there's brightly glowing, copious splatters of energon on the decking. His severed tentacle, the damaged ones, and the very obvious way fuel was running from his thigh wound ( not to mention a very pronounced limp ) is ignored completely in favor of snatching the tentacle grasping at Rinzler's over-heated disk back again.

He didn't have time for this, and no more patience to play games.

A different tactic, then; Soundwave's hand raises to wrap his primary, and manipulator servos ( fingers ) around the program's shoulder joint, and with a vicious jerk, put the human anatomical files he had to the test. Breaking the arm should work to open that hand still clinging to the second disk, right? ]

[action!]

[notglitching]

[Human anatomical files could only ever be somewhat applicable to the program. Which isn't to say enough pressure doesn't make a difference. Rinzler may be more flexible-and stronger-than human capability would allow, but in terms of sheer power, he's not even in Soundwave's class.
But all the same, he's not a user. So when Soundwave jerks the arm out of alignment, metal talons forcing it past function, past stability, to say the limb "breaks" is... more accurate than might have been expected.

There's a crunch-but not bone or muscle. Voxels grind, twist, shatter, red-orange shards falling from the wrenched aside joint, glinting bright in the light from above. There's no cut, no driving force-the limb's not wholly severed. But it hangs limply from the tenuous joint, circuits dark and dead. The disk stays bright a few moments longer as it slips from fingers unable to maintain their hold.

Throughout it all? Rinzler doesn't flinch. Can't move. But there's no flicker to the burning glow of his active circuits, no skip in the utter fury

[action!]

[stand_witness]

[ That is...interesting. But, Soundwave's systems are starting to make a thousand promises of pain to come, and he has an objective to complete. His free hand makes a grab for the falling disk, and misses. There's a small clinking sound because Soundwave's limbs are developing a subtle tremor throughout

[action!]

[notglitching]

[Rinzler's interest is caught as well. Not by his own damaged state, not by the coils still locking him in place, or the fact that the purple-lit mech now has both his disks (no no-can't). He's far too aware of that. But somewhere between the loops of disjointed panic, the quiet useless rage, and his own pain... there's a subprocess running. Watch. Observe. Target.

Soundwave missed the catch.

The other evidence of injury is obvious enough once he knows to look for it. The limp, the need for extra support-and the trailing blue energy, of course. Under different circumstances, Rinzler would have been curious at the design-unmistakeably familiar energy consumption, but... bleeding it like a user? But at the moment, that's hardly relevant. The injuries themselves aren't even what matters. No, what Rinzler cares about is their effect. Soundwave's unstable. Locking up, losing energy (blood)-almost nearing shutdown, if there's any similarity in reaction. The program shifts, tugs against the twining coils locked around him. Nothing. Yet.