Battle Cry
A/N: Hello again. First off, a massive thank you to all of my new and old reviewers for making my days with every one of them. They provide such inspiration for this story, especially when I hit a wall. I'll go back and read them and get all fuzzy on the inside. And, thank you to all of my silent readers as well. You're still amaze-balls.
I decided to do a couple things with this chapter. First: I wanted to further extend to you what our Skylar would be like in battle. Everyone I've written so far who has come in contact with Ms. Rosette has been raving about her skills left and right, or her prideful, soldier attitude. So, here came the fun part where I could demonstrate and use them and put them into play for the first (but obviously not last) time. Second: I threw in a bit of a fluffy moment between Bee/Skylar. It's not too intense, but it made me giddy just thinking about it before I began writing. Third: a secret is revealed. Dun, dun, dunnnnnnn.
That being said, I feel like I've said too much. Read onward.
P.S. Decepticons can hack computers and they're responsible for any mistakes.
P.S.S. To dancethenight-03 - thank you for fixing my translation. I'm not ashamed to say I used a translate app to try and help me, but obviously it can't even handle little commands like sit, stay, blah, blah, blah. Sorry about that! In case anyone was wondering: the correct German translations for Max's commands are - sitz, steh, geh zuruck, sofort.
Gracias, amiga! This one - over 7500 words, is for you. :)
Enjoy.
CHAPTER 7. SCRIMMAGES
[two months later; 2200 hours]
Specialist Rosette sighed over the communication device in her ear, pressing a finger to it's small button to commence activation. She waited interim and impatiently for the little sonic ring that would aware her that she was online, bracing herself with one arm against a slime-covered pillar in the first abandoned building they had come across. This place was falling apart with water damage, structure trembling. Her leather gloves scratched at the brick, but she could care less for their wear and tear. She had many more pairs just like this back at the Hole, so if this one fell to pieces, she wouldn't be too torn up.
When the fateful noise finally came, it was a minuscule sound tremor undetectable by any Cybertronians in the area. She had created the new little machine herself and tested them on even the sharpest of Autobot ears, therefore she was about 98% positive that her device would not fail her. She cleared her throat behind her hand, swallowing down a metallic taste of bloody mucous that clumped in her mouth. Her sniper dangled by her side, black and beating, the weapon practically vibrating underneath her fingertips to be abused.
Meanwhile, her teeth did the same in her jaw. They had run for what felt like a mile from their drop point from the helicopter - the element of surprise on their side. Sweat stuck her black t-shirt and jeans to her skin like glue, making her socks damp inside the combatant boots. Over her the lower half of her face was a black nose and mouth mask, the N.E.S.T. insignia white and luminescent when any light at all bleated onto the fabric. Her skull was protected by a helmet made of close to impenetrable leather. The dropping temperature surrounding them only further prompted her to shake in her armor, and her asthma had forced her to take a second to hack and breathe.
The bullet proof vest constricting her airflow didn't help much for the situation either. It was tightly wound beneath her ribs and strapped to her shoulders like a shield.
But this was war. She wasn't going to slow down because her lungs were any less better than her neighbor. It never stopped her before, and her future looked just about the same.
"Lennox, you copy?"
"Copy. Status update?" His static replied to her instantly. Skylar turned her head over her left shoulder, standing straighter despite the pain in her ribs to glare at her team with beady green eyes. She judged how they fared in the pale of the moonlight. They seemed just as out of breath as she was, dressed in the same battle gear, besides, perhaps, the range of different black shirts or pants. Some wore cargo with pockets off the yin-yang, some wore jeans with rips and holes from past missions like this one. Long sleeves or short, crop tanks. Some held their knees to inhale, covered in soft pads, others just struggled to stay tall and prideful in their minute break.
They were a tiny operational force consisting of every well-bred sniper in N.E.S.T.'s practical hands - and that was not very many.
Lennox had once again granted her the honor to take control of this portion of Blue Team, believing she was ready and prepared to do what needed to be done to take down the enemy and get the civilians out alive. Seeing how it was her second time being Captain of Blue Team in the two months she'd been stationed at N.E.S.T., she knew the ropes off this extraction and exercise a bit better than her first go. Before, she had been the newest to the N.E.S.T. way of getting things done. It had resulted with welts the size of a softball on her chest and back, and some nasty scratches when she was hit and blasted into a brick wall by the force of a Cybertronian cannon.
"We're a go." Said she finally when everyone was calm enough to await her order.
She blinked away from the eager faces of the 9 men and women and took a few steps closer to the wall. Between her lashes dusted with sweat, she gazed out the cracks in the boarded up windows to meet a desolate street with flickering streetlights that flickered and sprayed sparks onto the pavement. They had smuggled themselves into the first building they had come to when the deserted city came into view, 5 stories tall, with wood panels over each and every window besides the one entrance and exit they'd fled through. Beyond her team, she could hear another from N.E.S.T. taking to the stairs.
"Alright, listen up." Major Lennox instructed rapidly, from wherever he had joined his team of men to wait for any sign or signal of them. No one spoke, in fact, it was like the world was bending over just so they could hear the battle plans William Lennox wrote up. He had not just her attention, but all of the Captains, and soldiers graced with her new device popped in. He sounded crystal clear to the ear, as if he was right beside her.
It made her proud, it was perfect to see on her face. It rolled off her body of her in waves that her first upgrade to the N.E.S.T. force was serving it's purpose.
"Only going to say this once. You don't answer, you don't get a place and you're sent home. Blue Team Captains: check in."
"Wall-Crawler and Co. are ready." That was Captain Lhor, normally Sargent. A tall, older, beefy man with an eye patch and a tattoo of the N.E.S.T. insignia on his left bicep. He always smelled of pepper and raw body odor when she neared him, so Skylar had learned to avoid breathing in too harshly when she was shoved beside him. In briefing before they were deployed onto this mission, she remembered that he and his team were to investigate the stairwells and basement floors of the surrounding buildings in the deserted city, until all 15 of the hostages were found.
"T-Minus's team is okay to go." Captain Yui. A short but dedicated individual who spoke once every blue moon unless it was dire. His team, quite smaller than even her puny number of nine, was in charge of street investigations and retrieval. He and two others formed a trio that paralleled the Triplets of Arcee, Chromia and Flare-Up on this adventure. The six were to skewer the land and get everyone - from downed soldiers to civilians - to the safepoint for transport.
"ShortSquad is ready for instruction." Captain Lawson was female combatant, trained in several hand-to-hand styles, and one of Skylar's newest friends since her arrival. She was to lead her team (divided into A, B, and C, as there were so many soldiers in her 'ShortSquad') from floor to floor of each building, from street to street, to engage in battle while the other sections of Blue Team focused on retrieving civilians. Unfortunately, they knew that there was a sure possibility of bloody fights more with them than anyone, so they were laced with many different kinds of weapons: hand guns hanging from belts, grenades in pockets, swords with metal-armor cracking abilities, and one tank that rolled onto the scene as quiet as a tank could.
Skylar wanted desperately to make N.E.S.T. soldiers something new, to invent a glorious product or weapon that could completely destroy the enemy where they stood, but she was under contract only able to create for the Autobots, and the Autobots alone. That way, she would not be giving the same kind of weaponry to both the Cybertronians and to the Government. This alignment would stay true to the agreement that Autobots would share their Intel, but not advanced weapons that she was seemingly able to make. She was needed with them, and she understood as much.
Her last two months had been slightly productive in that cause; she had spent a lot of it watching and observing the Autobots in their training and debriefing, in medical labs when they returned injured where Ratchet explained to her in depth how to mend, or in battle where they turned warrior. She had learned their patterns, what broke first, what ammo was needed. She had been to the real deal once - and still only to observe from a distance. It had been a quick fight, where Ironhide had ripped the Decepticon's spine right from his body and tossed it aside like trash.
She hadn't been close enough to see the entirety of the metallic gore, but she would be lying if she said what she had seen didn't impress her. She didn't say this to the large, black Autobot. But the look in her eye and the nod of her head was all he needed to see.
"Pinpoint is ready." She clocked in through clenched teeth, signalling to her team with a tap to her helmet twice to follow her to the main stairwell. She and the caboose of the group watched for threat on all corners of the room, hands braced onto their snipers, while the few beyond them went where she directed and stood for more details. From there, when the green light was given, Skylar guessed that Lennox would force them to travel to a sniper's best nest - up.
"Wall-Crawler," Lennox started, "you take up the left side hallways with your team - start there, work your way in. Try and be quick, we have a smaller and smaller window every few seconds for our 10 minute mark. You know the drill - search for hostages from Yellow Team, and radio in your numbers when they've reached the safepoint. You see anyone from Red Team? You either shoot and hit, or get the hell out of there. That applies to everyone, by the way."
He paused for emphasis.
"This is not a suicide mission. ShortSquad and T-Minus - you've already been briefed on what you have to do tonight. Don't make a mistake, or everything we have lined up will fall to hell. Pinpoint?"
She felt herself pause, every muscle in her tense, and her team listened with wired ears and an open mind.
"You go rooftop. Split up your team, divide them by the number of buildings, and disperse. It's time to put all your sniper skills to work. They won't expect the long range of distance we can cover, since last time we came at them all at once. We wait for the remaining Autobots to surface that aren't on our side anymore, and you take them out."
"Understood." She murmured, grabbing a wrinkled white map from her chest belt and stretching it out in front of her. She could have sincerely rolled her eyes at the way Lennox spoke of the rouge Autobots - couldn't he just call them Red Team like normal, so it wasn't as heartbreaking of a thought that they were supposed to shoot and take down their allies like they were the enemy?
After all, this was just a scrimmage.
A training experience - to test the soldiers and Autobots for the actual destruction that could come from Decepticon attack in a populated city with hostage crisis, and the lengths it takes to eliminate the foe and return all civilians to normalcy. Every two weeks on Sunday night, N.E.S.T. held one of these at 10 P.M. in a location created with government approval (and tax dollars, but that was severely unfocused on). There was a few qualifications one had to go through, like medical checks to ensure health and at least 24 hours of intense background debriefing, but once one was set, they could sign up for CIVILIAN or SOLDIER, and get ready to go into the hoax battle ground.
Skylar had been present for five missions, but only Captain for two.
"Alright, you lot, come here." Skylar twisted her arm and used the tip of her gun to hold the map in place against a wall. With her other free hand, she grabbed a small LED flashlight from her chest pockets and aimed it at the city floor plan. Her team around her took to an arch to gaze at her detailed analysis. She began pointing, easily sliding into battle mode like a second skin for a snake. Her mind reeled in strategics. "Darcy, you go to this building and station on west outpost. Marty - you're taking City Hall. Try to see everything, okay? It's alright if you don't watch your back. I'll head to the top of the hospital and will have your six. Andrew . . ."
30 seconds later, everyone had their places to be, and an almost 0% failure backup plan if that was to fall through to the Earth as well. Though the soldiers who watched their leader closely would never voice it, at least, not right now, all of them around her could tell there was something hysterically strange about Specialist Rosette's way of leadership for being so new to the Autobot/Decepticon cause. It was as though she had been in battle with them for hundreds of years, commanded armies left and right, was ruthless to the bone . . .
"We are the quiet ones, remember? Don't get seen, don't get heard. If you see any Yellow Team, you let me know. Press the button, just say Yellow. I'll call in back-up from T-Minus. Any questions?"
"Ya', I got one!" Came a shockingly exuberant battle cry, making her whirl on the tops of her toes to face the direction of the upset. It was very rare she let something shock her so distinctly - as it had been shown with her special joke with Lennox when he had entered her hanger weeks ago, or when Bumblebee attempts to awaken her from the human stasis when she tries to nap in her lab, to find she had been already hotwired to his footfall - and her uncharacteristic break forced her to raise her sniper and aim straight for the forehead of the one yelling. "Ya'll ready ta' get fresh?"
It was Mudflap.
One of the few Autobots still on the good side for tonight. It had been split up, with Ironhide, Ratchet, Optimus, Sideswipe and Bumblebee as the 'AutoCons', while the Triplets, Mudflap, Skids and Jolt allied themselves with the humans.
"Keep it down," She hissed at the Autobot with a red dot on his forehead where her weapon lay aim. His optics blinked up at the target on his faceplates, then back to the human female with a tight-lipped snarl dressed across her teeth. She was so close to pulling the trigger, her fingers twitched on top, "or I'll shoot you out of this myself."
"Woah, woah, woah," He threw his hands up, backing away from the soldier like she oozed of corrosive poison, "got it, got it, I'll be quiet, yo, just don't shoot." Mudflap whispered the last part, peeking through his fingers.
She gave him a hawk-like stare, then turned back to her team of misfits who were amused by the altercation. Their smiles were hidden by their masks or goggles, but it was heard as they snickered or shifted gazes. Now, she did roll her eyes at the ridiculousness of her men and women.
She opened her mouth to tell them where to shove their condescending looks, but -
"Green light, green light, green light. Entering the left city side." Lennox's voice sounded over their speakers suddenly.
An AutoCon was spotted.
The game had begun.
Skylar ordered they change their small device to Link 3, and when everyone was on her channel, she nodded once and broke the team up to flee to the streets.
"It's all clear in West Wing of the school house, Captain. Lucky for us it would seem all children were evacuated before tonight. Almost to rooftop to await further orders." Darcy reported to Specialist Rosette under her breath, sounding extraordinarily shaky as she climbed the stairs. Skylar herself, as she rounded another flight of steps herself, mentally began to create a faithful list in the back of her mind of all the cleared buildings her 9 docked in at a time.
School house, City Hall, a bankrupt coffee shop.
They were narrowing down possible casualties - already, 5 of the 15 civilians were at the safepoint.
Just when her stomach began to ache from the uphill climb she had taken to, she reached the top flight of stairs and plowed through the large 'EXIT' labeled door that tumbled her out onto the gravel covered roof. Bits of dust, rubble and glass gathered beneath her fingers and knees as she steadied herself on the ground, thankful no one was around to see her trip, sniper spilling a few feet away from her.
Here, she was alone.
She took to a stand when her lungs finally ceased their expanding pain, cautiously wiping her hands off on the pant legs she bore until clear. It also removed any extra debris stuck to her legs as well. Leaning over to pick her weapon back up from where it awaited her, she sauntered over to the edge of the building, placed a boot on the ledge, and gazed down curiously.
She clearly had no quarrel with heights.
The august air was dry and whistling as it scratched and marred her already flushed skin. The wind was gentle below at the deserted sidewalk level, but up here where the weather howled and she patiently waited for something to happen, it sifted dirt and sand through her hair and across her face, forcing her to pull the dark mask up over her nose a bit higher. Another report came in within her comm. device as soon as she began to get nervous - a negative find. She added 'gas station on Main Street' to the group of buildings that were free of hostages.
Her lists, she realized, after joining N.E.S.T., truly had stepped up their already great game.
For example, she had formed a list of places not to step in fear of getting squashed beneath titan toes (which, ended up being easier over time once she got used to the towering sight of Optimus Prime and Ironhide). A list of routine eating schedules to make sure she stayed balanced; some days she confined herself to the locks of her laboratory and worked on mapping out the structure of each Autobot to add detail to her weapons, which, never seemed to end. They were so complex, she highly doubted she would finish on them before the month concluded. Other days, she was doing laps, following orders, prepping, working just as hard as the other soldiers.
Ergo, for each, she had a different food cycle to keep her healthy and battle ready.
She had a list of hours she could stop turning her brain and have downtime to spend with Lennox and his equally commanding men, who welcomed her with open arms after a bit of butt-kissing took place. Or, she was with her two closest friends now, Joey and Gabriel, who had showed her the ropes of online MMORPGs and even let her win a couple times. Or, she spent her days with the humorously bored Autobots, who constantly awaited another Decepticon to down.
Most of the time she dedicated to them, they challenged her to different sorts of things - target practice with Ironhide, who always had something new to fix of her, or 'Catch The Human', a self explanatory, rude game created by Mudflap and Skids, in which Sideswipe very often joined in on, that had her clinging for dear life onto the top of a ladder too high for the Bots to reach until they tired of chasing her and let her get down. Bumblebee more often than not helped her out and shoved the Twins away, helping her reach the floor again.
Ratchet always had a diverse set of notes to take, which, wasn't her favorite thing, but was informational to say the least. The Triplets very rarely had time to be free, but when they did, they and Skylar hadn't mixed very much.
She would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the time she had with Optimus Prime, who always had a different story of Cybertron before the war, or a few words of wisdom for her to reflect on as they paced the tarmac. He spoke of Megatronus and his fall from grace. He mostly spoke constantly of keeping her calm instead of pointing a gun at the last person to infuriate her.
And, she would have her ass on fire from lying so much if she said she didn't like the time she rest her head against the cool leather interior of Bumblebee and opened the door to the Camaro with her feet in the windowsill (with his permission, of course). From time to time, they sat quietly, or with the radio on, and waited for the sun to set on the searing hot desert horizon. Down time was special at N.E.S.T., and everyone, even the Autobots, treasured it.
They didn't seem to mind much, the Autobots, that is, of her near constant presence. At first, she understood that they simply desired her mind and all she was spoken of. Her skill, her time. But as they weeks passed, and moments were shared, each Autobot now had a different side of her plastered in their spark.
"All clear in East sector of the Hospital. Yellow found on West."
Behind her, there was tiniest shift of a foot in the dirt.
Skylar didn't hesitate. She turned and aimed, fingers a squeeze away from sending her loaded ammo towards the sneaking human who dared to not make themselves known to her. Her pupils were as small as ink dots, trained and focused on the target that only continued to walk closer. A large, red dot vibrated against his forehead. Yet unfortunately for her, she didn't get to have any fun with him tonight, when a bright, neon Yellow shirt with the word 'DAMSEL IN DISTRESS' painted on the front tumbled forward from the shadows.
"Well lookie here." Joey snickered aloud, making her almost growl at the tone of his voice. Loud, sarcastic, going to give away her position. His hands were up by his head, surrendering before she shot at him. But he was giggling with a smirk sewn on his lips.
Why was he up here?
Had he been hiding all along?
Oh goodness, did he see her fall?
"It's Big Britches herself, here to save little ole me, the 'damsel in distress'." He latched onto her like a small child would when he got in close enough proximity, arms circling her around her waist as tight as he possibly could. She squeaked in attempt to shove him off of her, hands knotting in his shirt to pry him from her body. But he refused to budge, really playing up his role of the weak civilian in her eyes. It made her very, very angry.
"Get off, Santa, or I'll make you distressed." She rumbled deep within her chest, claws known as nails digging into his skin through her gloves to remove him. It would have been a funny sight to see if the situation wasn't so serious. Finally, he let her go, crying Uncle and nursing his wound. The skin of his arm was broken, red and inflamed. "Yellow." She breathed after reactivating the link, eyes like glass as they pierced him. "T-Minus I'm gonna be sending him down. All clear for now?"
"Clear." Replied ShortSquad.
"Clear." Wall-Crawler.
"Green light. Expect the rain."
Lennox, god damn it.
The Specialist yelled at her leader within the confine of her thoughts, turning away from Joey's uneasy face when she moaned in discomfort. She had so much to do and watch over and watch out for, and didn't need to deal with a civvie with the insane tendency to distract her with his shenanigans like previously shown. He studied her closely and curiously as she stood upon the ledge like bird gasping for prey, and stared down. From this angle, the shadows hovered over her. She looked . . . tired, regal. Her mossy eyes were prepared and guarded.
"It's Ratchet. He was hiding in a parking garage. Heading up Lemon Street."
"I'm locked on to enemy target and - another AutoCon joined." She responded after a moment, the sound of an ambulance siren wailing down the road. The large, mint green med-truck zoomed her way at full speed, and, tearing out of a complex, a bright silver Corvette flittered by like a racing animal. They raced in tandem, taking over the highway system beneath her and Joey in a splash of colors. "Carter," Skylar spoke for one of her snipers, the only one she knew was close enough to get a shot, "I've got the first one. When I say go, you release fire."
But there wasn't enough time. By the second she finished her instructions, Ratchet and Sideswipe were already halfway out of her range, and though she had faith in Carter, he was the newest sniper to the group, and had already sweat under pressure before they had even taken to the fake arena. His aim was lacking, and this was not an opportunity they could afford to miss. It would be her head on a plate. Because of the lack of options and desperation, she ignored Joey's questioning gaze when she jumped from the ledge back onto the roof, and fell to her knees.
The Weapons Specialist lay her gun on the top of the concrete, and took aim. She peered through her red glass optic lens; only a moment later, she was locked on and following.
"I've got Ratchet." She murmured into the link.
No one else engaged.
So?
Skylar breathed softly through her teeth, and pulled the trigger.
A pellet the size of her pinkie, golden and seemingly shellac, ripped through the air and slammed into the top of Ratchet's medical van roof. His entire frame shuddered at the attack she harbored, ergo he swerved to avoid another when it barreled his way. It missed and plowed into the wall, spraying it with paint. Specialist Rosette's bullet proved to really be a close-to-harmless, exploding, bright, neon blue paint crafted to not injure, but coat the surface of Autobot armor. She fired again as he transformed to brace himself for the fight, positioning the little red dot straight for his spark to signify his 'down'. Barely, she missed, hitting a chest plate that knocked him back into a brick building. Rubble fell to the Earth.
Sideswipe took off in the night, screeching around a corner where more gunfire could be heard upon his arrival to Main Street. She guessed that ShortSquad was to engage at street level now. That however left the unready Ratchet (like a Decepticon would) to his death. In the final seconds of their face off, when he aimed his own paint cannon her way to slick her back to square one, she released a single shot, splattering across the protective metal of his spark chamber.
"Out!" Cried a referee from the corner of the street, dressed in a pink t-shirt and armor and recording the entire thing on a pad of paper. No tech was allowed to videotape these nightly faux runs; in the hacking hands of the enemy, battle strategies were never good lost. Ratchet, understanding his defeat, let his cannons power down and cool off in the whistling wind, smoke fuzzing from the end. He, like any good sport, nodded Skylar's way, who had formed a smile to her success, and fist pumped the air. With Joey's help, she jumped back up to stand.
She professionally tried to push back the smile a bit to nod back to her fallen friend as well, but she swore Ratchet's faceplates formed as close to what a small smile could have been. He honored her grace with weaponry.
Then, with his approval of her good work, in that tiny moment, she didn't feel so bad.
"Another civilian, Rosette. Your 11 o'clock."
"It's G-Gabriel - I thought he wasn't going to be doing this until he got healed from last week's Decepticon raid." Stuttered Joey quickly when he peered at the street, his worn hands nervously knotting into his Yellow t-shirt from anxious habit. Skylar blinked away from where Ratchet shifted back into vehicle mode and removed himself to safe point, to follow her friend's gaze. Down below, where the streetlights painted pictures of darkness in between alleyways, did the buzz-cut soldier present himself, diving in and out of the street on a skateboard. His tan skin was glistening with sweat.
Skylar looked at Joey from the corner of her eye. Though this was only pretend, his concern for Gabriel clearly furrowed into his soul. A look she didn't like to witness.
"He's gonna get himself eliminated." He mused sadly, truly wishing he wasn't going to be force to have to endure a paint pellet 'murder' his hideaway crush. After a deep sigh, he looked back to Skylar, who was digging around in her belt for her flashlight. Once she had it between her fingertips, she aimed towards the building where Carter sat waiting, and flickered it four times. "What are you doing?"
"Saving one." She replied simply, putting the little trinket back into her vest.
"You're going out there? But we need you here!" Carter exploded over their comm. link, distress vibrating with his every word. Four clicks - she was giving him command of this street until she was roofside again and able to continue scouting. Of course he wasn't ready for this big of a command, but she doubted any AutoCons would show their faces on the same street for a second time when their goal was stealth and destroy. Like lightning, never exactly striking in the same place twice.
"Your order is to stay put." Said Skylar promptly, pointing to Joey, but still talking to Carter. She successfully killed two birds with one stone when he crossed an 'x' over his heart and took a seat near the ledge of the building. Whatever it took to get his best friend out of enemy crosshairs before he was eliminated. "We've already taken down Ratchet, and Carter - I need you to focus on taking out anything that comes near me. You can't choke up. Civilian life is more important than winning this, but we want both."
The silence on the other end showed the newbie wished to retaliate her request of him, but was holding back his words on the edge of his tongue. Skylar would not inquire of his thoughts; she honestly didn't care what the lower rank had to say at this point. She was Captain, and he would follow her order. She had an object to fulfill, and she would get it done, even if that meant putting her metaphorical lifeline in the hands of a private who was throwing a tantrum over putting his beefy big boy britches on and doing his job.
It took a few minutes of skipping down flights of stairs at double pace, boots squealing in distaste, even sliding down a railing in attempt to speed up, but she was finally ground floor. The moment her feet hit the solid concrete, she charged the highway road, gravel turning over under her toes from the decay of city. The man on the skateboard she so desperately needed to save had stopped in the middle of the way and was whistling at a high pitch to the music from his headphones.
His shirt label?
CLUELESS CIVVIE.
She made a move to go get him, an easy catch if she could retrieve him and take cover, however, just barely around the bend of the road, a deep growl of an AutoCon was heard, ringing and dark. Determined. She did her best to become one with the wall, heart slipping up a beat or so.
Of course. She whined desperately on the inside, knowing full well it was the whistling that attracted the enemy. Her options slim, Skylar decided waiting would be expected. Surprise was a key element. Therefore, she broke into a vicious jog, pushing through the sand and the wind to stand by his still side in a few moments time. She grabbed Staff Sergeant Gabriel roughly by the shoulders and tugged his frame, leaving his skateboard in the wake of their leave. At her expulsion into the deserted highway, corner or so down, Skylar with her earpiece and all, could hear the transmission of a large vehicle roaring to life.
That, or a Cybertronian taking to their full form.
"Gabriel, you're going to get me killed out here, you know that?" She hissed like ice to hot water, ripping the headphones out of his ears and tucking them into his unfolded hands. She gingerly pressed him to the brick building and tried to cloak their out of breath pants with her hands, almost bruising his and her jaw. It was no use; they were still much to loud in the adrenaline of things, and he struggled to remove her tight grip from his face.
"That's the point of my entire job tonight." He rasped.
She instantly radioed back up to their location, done with his sass, and pushed him towards the other end of alley, giving instructions to wait there until a member of T-Minus picked him up and evacuated him to safepoint. There, where he tread, was the next street of the city grid system this fake city floor plan sat on. In her few 24 hours of pre-briefing, she had studied that map like a bible. Unfortunately, Specialist Rosette knew that when it came to fighting the real thing, she did not get a day to study a map. If she was lucky, she might be able to sneak a peak at her phone's 'Google Maps'.
Besides that, they were on their own to instinct in a true Decepticon/Autobot battle.
"Come on out, little fleshy. Accept this."
Ironhide.
"Lennox, green light." She wheezed out after switching comm. links with a press to the button on her ear, continuing with her ultimately flawed plan of 'surprise'. Side stepping into the street, Skylar grasped the secondary handle and raised her weapon for close-range fire, aimed, only to miss. Ironhide, in all his glory, was fast and was a great weapon handler. Just barely his ammo shell flew by her, hair tangling at the speed. A streetlight beyond was splattered in red paint.
"I-I think I have him locked - but he keeps moving -"
"No, I have him locked. Carter, you can relax." Darcy informed, a fringe in her words that were just as unhappy with the rookie that Ms. Rosette had been. There was hope, if Darcy was able to see Ironhide from her position and get a shot. It would have to be soon; the Weapons Specialist had dove behind an abandoned car, but knew she could not stay there fore long. Ironhide wasn't that far away, and wouldn't be opposed to flipping the vehicle upside down to find her and splatter her vest in synthetic paint. "He's busy on you, Captain. I don't doubt he's got people watching his back though. I'm going to have to change positions."
"Get him," Skylar whispered in a rush, feeling the car behind her disappear. She winced into herself, curling like a ball when the dinky green beater slammed into the wall across the street, creating ruble and broken pieces of building that dangled and fell to the Earth, pooling in destruction, "then get out of there."
A moment of silence where Skylar scrambled into a stand, facing the enemy head on. Her heart and lungs burned at the lack of oxygen, but she couldn't reach for her inhaler right now.
The ring of a shot.
"Slag it all!" Ironhide groaned from the pits of his vocal processors, neon blue ink dye splotching his black metal armor, coating his hands when he attempted to brush it off. Directly on target, most likely going to leave a few scratches someone would have to buff out or he would be more than furious. In the force of it all, blue paint spritzed across her like rain, dousing her in enemy 'blood'.
"Does that count?" She turned to a referee. The female shook her head. "Good."
"I finally found, I finally found you!"
Skylar whined like a wounded puppy at her incoming defeat, back and shoulder moaning in protest to her every tiny movement. Where she was buried under large slabs of debris from the blasted building, a piece pinned her leg to the concrete, another her hand. She swore one of her fingers was broken, at the very least fractured, from the explosion. The sting brought a burn to her throat as she did her best to ignore the different levels of pain. Not too bad; she would just have to stint it to ensure safe healing on her part. But the cannon that Sideswipe had fired at a Pinpoint member, that, had missed and slammed into the building as a final farewell before his elimination had shook and collapsed, wavering into nothingness. Lucky, no one was inside, but outside?
She looked up at her opponent through clenched eyes, to where Bumblebee had surveyed the corner, blasters rotating and humming. She was down, and though he felt deeply for her clear injuries and planned as soon as the match was over to aid her, he was just as much as a soldier as her, and this, was all in the heat of battle. She would have to be eliminated; under order. Rosette understood that, and wouldn't have had it any other way.
It was what would eventually make the headstrong human and large yellow Scout a fantastic team in battle.
She reached for her grenade pouch with her free hand, a small bag hooked onto her bulletproof vest; almost there, close enough, just about -
Skylar took it within her fingers, bit off the top like a piece of food, and launched it at the AutoCon just in time for him to send a blast of red paint into her chest. The impact did not hurt much, like a push to the stomach that left an moment of an uncomfortable pressure. But her entire torso and half her face was drowning in the red paint more than anything. She made sure not to open her mouth or pupils until she brushed half of it from her skin.
Through her blinking eyes when she was sure she was okay, she beamed.
Bumblebee matched her.
His chest was covered in an array of blue, covering his hands as he tried to wipe it off. But she had launched it where it had needed to go. His protective plating that covered his spark chamber was dripping in neon.
"Double out." A referee calls.
Skylar sighed in discomfort for her loss, understanding her fall. Overcome by annoyance with herself for getting into this position, she barely noticed her predicament of entrapment still was latter. That he nose was bleeding. But the Bot wasted no time reaching down to grasp the rock that lay upon Skylar's hand and the debris of ruble that trapped her leg. She hissed through her teeth and struggled into a stand proudly, grasping onto a finger when he presented one to her despite her desire to ignore the help.
Skylar took in damage; her leg would be fine, as well her arm. Perhaps not her ring finger, that struggled to clench when she tried. And her shoulder hadn't particularly enjoyed the crush.
But, she would survive. And that was enough for her to push past her minuscule problems.
"Rematch." Joked the girl when Bumblebee grasped her tightly around the body and hoisted her up in the air to become face to face. His armor was still warm from the fight, but cool to the touch in a pleasant way. She rested soundlessly in his grasp, face hot under his scrutiny. But she didn't mind. Bumblebee was familiar, and careful, and kind. She enjoyed his company, and was more glad than she thought she would be that she was eliminated by someone who she felt fondly of.
(If it had been Ironhide, she would have left a dying animal in his tailpipe.)
"How about - 2 out of 3?" He bantered with her sweetly, carrying her away from battle, off to the safepoint, to away the verdict of which team won.
In the end, Optimus stood tall, the last AutoCon remaining when their time ran short.
But did anyone ever doubt that?
"How'd she do for her second try?"
"For her second run at leading, she's pretty good. Above average, even."
"It's like she has a mode. She can switch on and off this battle part of her. It's . . . not normal, if I may say so, sir. I've never seen someone so ruthless in a scrimmage."
"Understood. Er . . . dismissed. Please."
Lennox waved Carter away when he saluted, and asked him to close the door behind him as he left. From where the Major of N.E.S.T. sat with his hands over his mouth, he studied his notes on the table with intense eyes and an even more intense mindset. Familiar words scribbled across in red and black where he had marked up a document and it's twin.
PROJECT: ICEMAN
ROSETTE FAMILY TRACE
"Do you think she knows?" A friendly voice in the corner wondered. Lennox shook his head.
"Not a clue."
"Should we tell her?" That voice.
"Eventually. She's just getting used to everything here. She's just started helping the cause. She's almost completely healed Bumblebee's vocal processors with the help of Ratchet, and finished her first full in-depth analysis of the Bots to start weapon design. If she was to figure it out and be furious we withheld more information about her, from her, she could easily resign, and we'd be back to square uno. Worse, she might not be able to handle the truth. And quite honestly, I don't want to loose her."
"She is strong."
Lennox blanched.
"I understand that. But is she strong enough? I don't believe you understand that the repercussion of any of the enemy finding out what we know. Optimus Prime has agreed. If Decepticons were to decode anything we've stolen from what remained of Sector Seven, not only would they want it, but once they did everything in their power to get it, and have it, and read it, and realize that Skylar Rosette is destined for something much bigger than being an army scat? That we didn't recruit her just because of some silly weapon rumor?"
Lennox now swallowed.
"We are all 100%, without a doubt, gloriously fucked."