Fighting, acting—what does it matter if the audience can't tell the difference?
With every elaborate attack and artful dodge of the two fighting mechs, the cheering rose in volume. The audience members roared and stamped their pedes, enraptured by the two gladiators' continuing fight. A few daring mechs even leaned over the edges of the arena for a better view.
The red mech charged at Shinyshell, leaping into the air at the last moment. A slight boost from one thruster sent him spinning, and he swung one pede outward in a completely impractical flying spiral-kick. It was a blatant waste of fuel, but he figured that the pleased audience would continue spending energon on the betting pools or promotional offers as the match went on.
Shinyshell dodged out of the way, narrowly avoiding the red mech's attack. He retreated with a quick series of backflips that carried him across the arena.
Both mechs lifted their ranged weaponry, each nodding at the other the tiniest bit. Shinyshell's crossbow bolt flew true, shooting towards its intended target—the nozzle to the red mech's laser pulse rifle. At precisely the right moment, the red mech fired a laser pulse directly into the already heated projectile.
The crossbow bolt absorbed the laser pulse's energy, turning into a blob of molten metal. A vibroblade slashed sideways just as the molten projectile shot past. The superheated crossbow bolt erupted in a glowing spray as the gleaming blade deflected metal droplets in every direction.
The crowd went wild as, for an instant, the red mech was haloed in a glittering cloud.
"Ooh! For lightning-fast reflexes and that perfect aim, Gyron training facilities is still accepting students!"
The metal droplets scorched the red mech's paint wherever they hit, but he steeled himself against the slight stinging sensation. In the past, he had endured far worse pains for the promise of far less energon.
Four and a half joors later, the red mech's fuel levels were starting to dwindle. The dramatic staged match was burning less energy than normal fights, but the constant activity was still tiring. At the beginning of the fight, his tanks were around half full; now, they were approaching thirty percent capacity. He would have ended the match sooner, but the audience seemed pleased. That—hopefully—meant he would receive more cubes when he won.
Shinyshell drew his arm back, as though winding up for a mighty punch.
The red mech fired up his thrusters in preparation. When Shinyshell brought his arm forward in a slow, showy punch, the red mech dramatically doubled over, catching the servo, and launched himself backward.
"Another mighty punch from Shinyshell! If you want to experience a stronger frame, stop by the Lower Iacon Relinquishment Clinic for a limited-time offer!"
Shinyshell finished with his fist raised. The crowd oohed and aahed as the red mech propelled himself away, doing his very best to appear as though the punch had thrown him across the arena. His frame eventually hit one of the arena doors with a soft, painless clatter. He easily landed on his pedes and adopted an overexaggerated battle stance.
"Hey, is this door jammed?" A muffled voice shouted through the heavy door behind the mech. "Did the match start already?"
The red mech heard nothing, for his audio receptors were offline. It was only practical in any match, staged or otherwise, to preserve the functionality of said audio receptors by deactivating them. However, the flight sensors in his wingtips picked up a few slight vibrations from the metal surface. The whole arena was probably just vibrating due to the overexcited audience's pounding pedes. In any case, he ignored the slight buzzing, instead focusing on planning his next move.
"I think they're trying to open the door from the other side," another voice shouted. "We should help!"
The red mech noticed the vibration again, but this time he half-turned to glance at its source. The faint buzz was larger this time, and it held a distinct modulation that pounding pedes definitely lacked.
On the other side of the arena, an unaware Shinyshell sprang toward the red mech in a series of flashy somersaults. The maneuver left his entire torso open to laserfire, but the red mech only shot a few poorly-aimed pulses that flew far over his opponent's head.
A heavy blow struck the door behind the red mech, though the reinforced metal stubbornly refused to deform beyond a slight dent.
Alarmed by the unexpected blow, the red mech lunged into action again. He dashed towards the still-cartwheeling Shinyshell, lifting his arms to unbalance the spiky mech. Shinyshell leaped at him, pushing off of the red mech's upraised servo. He flipped over and landed behind the flyer, striking a dramatic pose when his pedes touched the ground once more.
Just outside the arena, four new fighters fidgeted impatiently before an unyielding door. Scythe rammed the sheet metal again, but the door refused to dent any more than it had over the many previous times that he had rammed it. "Not working!"
Ultramarine thought for a nanoklik. "These doors have a control panel, right?" His searching claws soon plunged into the panel. He tried poking at a few combinations of buttons, but nothing happened. "It's sealed shut."
Scythe punched the panel, causing a shower of sparks to burst from the damaged circuitry. A sliver of light appeared at one side of the door, and Scythe roughly helped it open the rest of the way.
"Not anymore!"
In the arena, the red mech spun to face Shinyshell just as four new fighters appeared in the corner of his vision. They streamed into the arena, swinging extremely dented weapons. His memory banks quickly identified them as some of Chopper's guards, though what they were doing in the arena was anyone's guess. He brought his medical scanners online, searching for weak spots on their heavily armored frames.
"What the—" The announcer quickly recovered from his surprise. "Introducing some new fighters! Uh," he paused to glance at the names scrolling across his internal display, "Ultramarine, Scythe, Shadow, and—last but not least—Cosmically, comedically, and cosmetically rusting… Rustheap!"
The crowd's screaming increased to a point where even the red mech's flight sensors were tingling uncomfortably from the vibrations. Shinyshell visibly winced from the intensity of the noise, but he followed the red mech's intent gaze to the four new arrivals.
Shinyshell stepped toward the red mech, lifting both optic ridges. One spiky arm gesticulated wildly. He seemed to be saying something, but the red mech could not make out a single word. The red mech glanced at the newcomers and back to Shinyshell, shrugging his wings.
Suddenly Shinyshell seemed to remember the crowd, and he clenched one servo into a fist. He pointed to the red mech, then himself, then spread his digits at the newcomers in a questioning motion.
"Team!" The audience gradually shifted the modulation of their cheering from unintelligible screams to a unified chant. "Team! Team!"
Across the arena, the rusty newcomer spun in a circle, grinning and waving his mace at the crowd.
"It looks like Blueservo and Shinyshell are too evenly matched! Get your bets in for these two fighters against the new scrapheaps!"
In an undertone that was nevertheless audible throughout the arena, the announcer added, "they deserve what's coming for them, those blundering imbeciles! Who do they think they are, breaking in on a match unannounced?"
The red mech unsheathed his vibroblade, simultaneously powering up his laser pulse rifle. The staged match was over; now, the fight was real. Either he would defeat Chopper's guards, or they would offline him… or worse, drag him back to the rotary's tender mercies.
On the other side of the arena, Rustheap continued waving at the audience, oblivious to the red mech's murderous intentions. He thought he was doing quite well at it, too, until Shinyshell's crossbow bolt grazed his waving arm.
"Ooh, did that scratch his paint? Oh wait, he had none!" The announcer's chuckle was somehow audible over the crowd's roaring. "Paint is an essential part of a mech! The rustic look went out of style megavorns ago. Luckily for you, Starstriker Industries has finished developing a new paint formula that will last twice as long as previous coats!"
The red mech charged forward before the announcer finished speaking. His scans had identified Scythe's frametype as the strongest, most durable, and slowest of the four former guards. The large grounder's stance, though aggressive, was also the most unsuitable for fighting quick-moving opponents. However, his armor was thick enough to repel most direct attacks.
At the last moment, the red mech twisted sideways, firing his laser cutter on its widest setting as he darted past. As expected, the unfocused beam flashed over Scythe's armor too quickly to do more than heat the metal… but that was enough. Before the grounder could register the localized change in temperature, the mech spun around and stabbed his vibroblade into the faintly glowing line on Scythe's side. The blade punched through the softened metal, slicing through reinforced plating and into the delicate wires beneath.
Scythe's arm struck the red mech a moment later, throwing him halfway across the arena, but the damage was done. A deep gash in the large grounder's side glowed blue with energon, and he appeared to have difficulty moving one leg. The red mech's target—the motor relays in Scythe's side—were partially severed.
"The first injury!" The announcer chortled with glee as Scythe furiously limped towards the red mech. "To get repairs for that, only one place can restore you to your former glory. Swindle's Universal Emporium and Services is opening a new branch in Iacon! Get new parts at record deals! Uh, it costs extra for services."
The crowd's cheering increased, though they were likely more excited by Scythe's angry advance than the announcement.
Though he had hit the ground hard, the red mech wasted no time regaining his pedes and springing back into action. There were several dents in his armor, and part of his dorsal sensor suite was offline, but he immediately started charging his laser pulse rifle. Fresh energon oozed from Scythe's side; if the red mech could ignite it, he could put the grounder out of commission for a while.
Glancing to the side, the red mech noticed Shinyshell currently being tag-teamed by Ultramarine, Shadow, and Rustheap. Satisfied that no one would interfere in the immediate future, he carefully leveled his arm at the charging grounder's side. Warmth spread through his right arm as the rifle reached maximum charge and started to overheat. Scythe was almost upon the red mech, but he needed to wait for the perfect moment to fire.
There. Scythe lifted his arm to deliver another mighty punch. Moments before the fist struck comparatively thinner plating, the red mech fired the laser pulse.
An energon explosion pushed Scythe backwards. He grimaced but regained his balance without much fuss. The wound in his side, while blackened and significantly larger than before, was no longer leaking energon. Scythe lunged forward triumphantly, forcing the red mech to leap backwards to avoid the attacking grounder.
The red mech's scans pinpointed the few recently-fused wires that enabled Scythe to walk properly again. He quickly loosed a low-intensity laser pulse into the gash in his opponent's armor. It reduced the fused wires to a molten spatter, sending Scythe to the ground. The newcomer's legs twitched uncontrollably, now independent of his processor's commands, and sparks erupted from beneath his armor as his vital systems short-circuited.
Now that the red mech's most immediate threat was disabled, he turned to check on the others. One opponent was down, but there were a few more to go. The red mech charged up his rifle again and dashed across the arena to assist his teammate. With two fighters against three, the odds were almost even.
Some Cybertronian units:
nanoklik - second
breem - minute
joor - hour
orn - day
decaorn - 10 orns / 1 week
vorn - year
megavorn - 1,000,000 years
mini-cube - 1/4 of a standard cube
Thanks for reading!
~The Voids