| abstract | - Slipstream enters the drill hall intent on some training herself, she pauses a moment though to observe the mech going through his paces with his weapon of choice. A soft hmm then she reaches back and demagnetizes her lance from her back. She inspects the tip of it to see if it is sharp or dull. Halberd shows no sign of noticing Slipstream's entry, at first, so engrossed in his steps. But a few seconds in and his helm turns, even as his movements stay at the same speed. Combat speed, easily; it probably wouldn't be healthy to be where he's swinging the blade of his weapon. Slipstream finishes inspecting her weapon, setting the handle in her hand and rotating her wrist to limber it up. Her magenta optics observing the mech as he continues his training. Finally she moves to the hologram panel and taps in a few commands. The projector hums to life and she steps into the room with the holos appearing. Typical Bot fare really, nothing too fancy. She takes what could be called a fencing type stance then starts in on the holos. Call him curious, call him seeking a distraction, call him falling back on other programming...but Halberd slows, thumbing a switch on the halberd shaft that deactivates its energetic portions. He's always found the holograms only so useful, but let it never be said he won't watch another use them. It's a good opportunity to note their form. Slipstream has obviously been trained in the lance as you observe her movements. At times she uses both hands to grip the weapon, but mostly she uses just the one hand. Light wrist action twirling the weapon slightly then a sudden jab forward to land a hit. Aiming mostly for the torso where there is a better chance of hitting something vital. Her wings are shifted back away from her form, keeping them out of range for straight on shots from the holos. When one target is nearly down, she reaches for a lariat attached to her hip. Practiced motions making a quick loop with a complex motion of fingers on the hand that creates said loop, then feeding a bit of the lariat out and a rotation of the wrist to toss the loop onto the target.. perhaps on the head, the hand, anything protruding is snagged. She draws the lariat taught and you see a faint glow from it. Standard technique - some flaws, but then, Halberd can find flaws in anything, including his own form. It's working out these flaws and minimizing them that is the very point of practice and training. Such as the time used in switching from lance to lariat - the latter seems an odd choice of a weapon, but to each their own. His optics narrow slightly at the glow, making further mental notes. As befits an observer, he keeps these notes to himself, for now - it would be insulting to interrupt another's practice at this point. Slipstream watches the holo 'die' then removes the lariat as she turns to the next target that is accosting her, making several feinted jabs at it then the actual strike comes straight on at chest. It falls immediately. The next target she doesn't even bother with jabbin at right away, instead it gets the lariat around the head and it gets drawn taught at the neck. That glow appears as the figure seems to struggle to free itself, probably panicking instead of fighting. Well, she seems to be dealing with these ones easily enough... Halberd moves over to the control panel, scanning over its current settings before making to adjust them. Specifically, the 'skill' rating. How would this one fare against stronger, faster, smarter enemies?...just a slight increase, for now, he thinks to himself. Slipstream has the setting within her current skill level in both weapons, which is reasonably high considering though certainly not at the highest level. So when the holos start acting different she catches onto it quickly. If the jab doesn't hit and the target is close enough she is not below kicking, kneeing, head butting, or otherwise getting physical with it. And she isn't playing nice about it either. Neck shots, joint blows and the like are all used. The lariat is put on the hip, replaced by a rifle as she sees she will be needing it. Targets in range of the lance get jabbed at; ones further away are shot at with a fair amount of hits though there are misses as well. Halberd nods his approval at her change in tactics. But even though she's outnumbered and doing well...there will be times when 'outnumbered' is an understatement. Sooner or later, you're going to get hit. Once, twice, however many times it takes...and you're going to go down. As he adjusts the number of holos fighting Slipstream, he starts a mental timer. Slipstream notices the changes occurs as the holos she downed are replaced by new one. Oh she's going to give that mech a talking too once this is over. She does the best she can, rising up on her jet boot thrusters to lend herself some more maneuverability as she jabs or shoots at targets. If one shoots her from the side or behind her, she turns to shoot back at it. Eventually though the program will have to end as it was set for a certain amount of time, thusly it will be a tiring routine but not so much so that you'd need rations right away. Tiring? Exhausting is the verbage Halberd is going for. A harsh taskmaster, paying careful attention to Slipstream's condition and the simulation's own. The time is noted, and for a few astroseconds, Halberd considers adjusting that as well. He's done enough already, he decides. It is allowed to play out at its current settings, with the Battlemaster watching Slipstream's performance critically. Slipstream turns, shooting, jabbing, kicking, kneeing, doing everything and anything within her repertoire to bring down the swarm of holos accosting her. The simulated pain is just beginning to show upon her facial features as she grits her denta, lips set in a grim countenance. Condensation from her exertions forming upon her armor as her cooling systems are being taxed by now. She keeps up the fight though until all the holos are done and the door to the room opens. She puts her lance back into place as well as her rifle, then strides out. If she's expecting Halberd to have left, to try and avoid whatever wrath she holds - she would be mistaken. The green unit is still there, still at the control station, still monitoring the readouts - though, now that she's finished, he's more looking over the accumulated data rather than her. As far as he's concerned, the fact that she's still standing means she's fine. Slipstream looks right at the mech, magenta optics brightening a hint as she glowers at his back. Pausing a moment to gather her thoughts, then moving toward him. "Explain yourself, mech." her tone sounding just slightly annoyed. "Who are you and why did you mess with my holo sequence?" For a few seconds, nothing. Then he turns his head, just enough to catch Slipstream out of his peripheral vision. Well, one supposes he /does/ owe her a bit of explanation... "Battlemaster Halberd," he answers calmly, returning his attention to the readouts. "Tell me, do you always set them so low? You may as well have memorized the level's steps, for how much work-out you were getting." Slipstream cocks her head slightly, hmming softly at the term 'battlemaster' that you attach to your name. A title is something she will respect. "I wasn't aware that was a low setting, besides I do get to do a warm up do I not? It increases in increments to a level I feel comfortable with at the time. As for memorizing, I make sure it’s a purely random sequence that I cannot easily predict." "Starting slow is one thing. Deliberately under challenging yourself is another." Halberd shakes his head, letting the data store itself as he clears it from the screens. "'Comfortable'. You learn nothing by letting yourself stagnate in such a way; improvement is all about forcing yourself /uncomfortable/, and adaptation to such." He doesn't bother to hide the scorn in his voice, but it's two-fold; the only ones truly comfortable in battle are the misclocked. (Not that you'll hear it from his mouth in public company. Certain opinions are best kept to oneself, in the Decepticon ranks.) Slipstream snorts softly, "That is a holo and is for training. If this was a true battle I would assure you my comfort is not even in my mind but dealing with the enemy quickly so we can get what we want." she steps close, the heat from her form is obvious, "How would you like it if I messed with your holo program without notifying you just to criticize your techniques or how you set the program Battlemaster Halberd?" she asks, sounding just like she may do so if given the opportunity. Optics flash slightly as she stares you down, wings shifting slightly behind her. A snort, then she turns and waves a hand, "Bah, mechs.. all the same. Want to bring us femmes down any way you can." "If you altered my training," Halberd drawls, turning his optics back towards Slipstream, "I would first adapt to the change, and then seek why you felt it necessary. Clearly, we think differently, and if you wish to blame it on your model that is your own prerogative. I have always disliked such excuses." He looks anything but intimidated; if anything, bored. Slipstream pauses a moment at the door that exits the drill hall, looking back toward Halberd. "Clearly." is all she has to say, not in the mood to bite on the excuses comment. She then heads out to find a ration and get a refuel in, perhaps a cleansing shower as well. Halberd doesn't make to stop her. At the session she's just finished, he expects her to be getting a ration, or a turn at the wash racks; either way, it's none of his concern. He has his own training to continue. If he can no longer back up his words with talent, then he has no one to blame but himself.
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