Categories > Cartoons > Transformers
Pilot's Fury
0 reviewsDuring the last days of Cybertron, the Autobot forces were making a dent in the Decepticon forces. A fearless crew of brave Autobots rained down hell's fury upon the foe. But the ship was shot down...
0Unrated
Explosions thundered around the two armies as battle cries spilt the air. Autobot and Decepticon armies clashed at the front line, Energon spilt onto the ground. Blaster fire crossed overhead and metal crunched under incredible strength. The roar of Decepticon jets sounded in the background of the battlefield and all hope seemed lost.
"Where is Craterblast?" an Autobot Sargent hollered to a Captain. "She's supposed to be with her squad."
"She was granted permission to provide air support to the Autobot army," the Captain stated, ducking quickly as missiles flew above him. "We need air support, Sargent. I can only trust Craterblast and her crew to bring down those Seekers."
"But, sir," the Sargent sputtered, "Craterblast has only recently graduated from the Academy. Surely we can find another pilot to help us."
"Craterblast is the best in her class," the Captain snapped. "I trust her and that's final. She'll bring hell on the Decepticons."
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“Craterblast!” the Sargent hollered over the pilot’s commlink. The Autobot flinched, turning down the volume quickly. She knew that it was probably a terrible idea to turn it down since the engine of her ship were louder than she wanted. Her crew had to yell at the top of their vocal processors for her to hear them, she had to do the same for them to hear her. Craterblast was at the controls of her ship, running a quick diagnostics before she took it into the air.
“Yes sir?” she answered trying to hide the groan in her voice. She bent down to grab a wrench to adjust the steering controls, hoping the sudden call wouldn’t break her concentration.
“Where are you? You’re supposed to be with your squad.” She stifled a sigh of annoyance at the mention of her squad. They had all graduated at the same time, Craterblast being at the top with her hardy crew. She was granted permission by their instructor, who ranked higher than the Sargent screaming in her audio processors, to lay waste to the Decepticon Seekers that were depleting the Autobot forces at a rapid rate.
“Sir, with due respect, the Captain ordered me to assemble my crew and take the fight to the air,” she stated, with a hint of fact in her voice. She crouched down to smack a panel beneath the controls open. The panel dropped open, the complex control lights flashing and blinking in sync. She reached up with her right servo and flicked on a small light between her goggles to take a good look. The small white beam illuminated the controls and Craterblast scowled when her optics spotted the problem. She could hear the Sargent take in a breath to yell at her some more, but she quickly severed the link between them.
“Something wrong with the old boy, Crater?” a deep voice questioned from behind her. Craterblast did not look up from her work, but instead she lifted a servo and motioned her crewmate over. Her frown didn’t disappear as the Mech made his way over to her crouching form.
“Ah, it’s the engine again,” she told him, irritably. “It seems like every time I don’t use the Harpoon, it seems to have engine problems.” She tapped her knee a few times in thought. “How’s the exterior holding up, Marshflame?”
The heavy build Mech reached up with his hand to wipe some grease off of his shoulder plate. “We’ve managed to get a few dents out of the engines and the wings, but the windshield is still cracked well. I think Axehorn’s going to take care of that.” Craterblast let out a long suffering sigh, rubbing the back of her helm.
“The exterior, in my opinion, always the easiest part of the ship to fix. If I had it my way, I’d have one of you fix the engine controls.”
Marshflame folded his arms across his chassis with an optic ridge raised. “Yet, who did all the studying in the engineering? You did. So I don’t want to hear all of your complaints.”
Craterblast rolled her optics with a shake of her helm. “Not true. The instructor had all of us study engineering. So your argument sucks and go repair the windshield with Axehorn. I need the old boy up and in the atmosphere soon, or else we’ll lose this battle.” Marshflame sighed and walked out of the ship, greeting Axehorn.
Craterblast reached up with a servo and flicked the goggles over her optics. She scooted herself closer to the panel, squinting a bit. She leaned in close, her optics briefly scanning the diagnostics with a growl. She smacked the panel back into place, using the wall to push herself upwards. She seated herself in her pilot’s seat, reaching forwards with both servos. Punching in a few buttons and flipping some switches, the ship hummed alive, the multicolored buttons illuminating.
“What seemed to be the problem, Craterblast?” a strong feminine voice called over her commlink.
“Engine failure, Burnblade,” she stated. “The diagnostics read that the last flight we had damaged the main lines. Who knew that those Seekers actually had good aim?”
“Is it irreversible?” Burnblade asked, sounding a little worried.
“The damage is done,” was all Craterblast told her. “All you need to worry about is getting the outside of the ship repaired. I’ll get the delicates done.” She turned in her chair, tracing the main engine lines with her optics. She stood quickly, taking long strides across the ship to the main engine port. She pried the covering of the panel off and tossed it behind her. The thin metal landed against the steel flooring with a loud clank.
“Alright,” she said to herself. “Let’s see here: I’ve got destroyed wires, severed components, and broken lines.” She carefully grabbed to live wires with her fingertips, reconnecting them with a large spark. She let out a loud hiss, but she forced herself not to screech. She heard the engines begin to start up and she continued to work on the panel.
“Crater, I don’t know what you did, but you got the engines working,” Marshflames’s voice gave her the news she was desperately wishing to hear.
"Where is Craterblast?" an Autobot Sargent hollered to a Captain. "She's supposed to be with her squad."
"She was granted permission to provide air support to the Autobot army," the Captain stated, ducking quickly as missiles flew above him. "We need air support, Sargent. I can only trust Craterblast and her crew to bring down those Seekers."
"But, sir," the Sargent sputtered, "Craterblast has only recently graduated from the Academy. Surely we can find another pilot to help us."
"Craterblast is the best in her class," the Captain snapped. "I trust her and that's final. She'll bring hell on the Decepticons."
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
“Craterblast!” the Sargent hollered over the pilot’s commlink. The Autobot flinched, turning down the volume quickly. She knew that it was probably a terrible idea to turn it down since the engine of her ship were louder than she wanted. Her crew had to yell at the top of their vocal processors for her to hear them, she had to do the same for them to hear her. Craterblast was at the controls of her ship, running a quick diagnostics before she took it into the air.
“Yes sir?” she answered trying to hide the groan in her voice. She bent down to grab a wrench to adjust the steering controls, hoping the sudden call wouldn’t break her concentration.
“Where are you? You’re supposed to be with your squad.” She stifled a sigh of annoyance at the mention of her squad. They had all graduated at the same time, Craterblast being at the top with her hardy crew. She was granted permission by their instructor, who ranked higher than the Sargent screaming in her audio processors, to lay waste to the Decepticon Seekers that were depleting the Autobot forces at a rapid rate.
“Sir, with due respect, the Captain ordered me to assemble my crew and take the fight to the air,” she stated, with a hint of fact in her voice. She crouched down to smack a panel beneath the controls open. The panel dropped open, the complex control lights flashing and blinking in sync. She reached up with her right servo and flicked on a small light between her goggles to take a good look. The small white beam illuminated the controls and Craterblast scowled when her optics spotted the problem. She could hear the Sargent take in a breath to yell at her some more, but she quickly severed the link between them.
“Something wrong with the old boy, Crater?” a deep voice questioned from behind her. Craterblast did not look up from her work, but instead she lifted a servo and motioned her crewmate over. Her frown didn’t disappear as the Mech made his way over to her crouching form.
“Ah, it’s the engine again,” she told him, irritably. “It seems like every time I don’t use the Harpoon, it seems to have engine problems.” She tapped her knee a few times in thought. “How’s the exterior holding up, Marshflame?”
The heavy build Mech reached up with his hand to wipe some grease off of his shoulder plate. “We’ve managed to get a few dents out of the engines and the wings, but the windshield is still cracked well. I think Axehorn’s going to take care of that.” Craterblast let out a long suffering sigh, rubbing the back of her helm.
“The exterior, in my opinion, always the easiest part of the ship to fix. If I had it my way, I’d have one of you fix the engine controls.”
Marshflame folded his arms across his chassis with an optic ridge raised. “Yet, who did all the studying in the engineering? You did. So I don’t want to hear all of your complaints.”
Craterblast rolled her optics with a shake of her helm. “Not true. The instructor had all of us study engineering. So your argument sucks and go repair the windshield with Axehorn. I need the old boy up and in the atmosphere soon, or else we’ll lose this battle.” Marshflame sighed and walked out of the ship, greeting Axehorn.
Craterblast reached up with a servo and flicked the goggles over her optics. She scooted herself closer to the panel, squinting a bit. She leaned in close, her optics briefly scanning the diagnostics with a growl. She smacked the panel back into place, using the wall to push herself upwards. She seated herself in her pilot’s seat, reaching forwards with both servos. Punching in a few buttons and flipping some switches, the ship hummed alive, the multicolored buttons illuminating.
“What seemed to be the problem, Craterblast?” a strong feminine voice called over her commlink.
“Engine failure, Burnblade,” she stated. “The diagnostics read that the last flight we had damaged the main lines. Who knew that those Seekers actually had good aim?”
“Is it irreversible?” Burnblade asked, sounding a little worried.
“The damage is done,” was all Craterblast told her. “All you need to worry about is getting the outside of the ship repaired. I’ll get the delicates done.” She turned in her chair, tracing the main engine lines with her optics. She stood quickly, taking long strides across the ship to the main engine port. She pried the covering of the panel off and tossed it behind her. The thin metal landed against the steel flooring with a loud clank.
“Alright,” she said to herself. “Let’s see here: I’ve got destroyed wires, severed components, and broken lines.” She carefully grabbed to live wires with her fingertips, reconnecting them with a large spark. She let out a loud hiss, but she forced herself not to screech. She heard the engines begin to start up and she continued to work on the panel.
“Crater, I don’t know what you did, but you got the engines working,” Marshflames’s voice gave her the news she was desperately wishing to hear.
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