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Constructicon Hospital
"If you're serious I can start stripping cables out of those bodies to use as rope," Snarl told Brawl. Thinking more about what the Combaticon said, he asked a follow-up question. "Onslaught died?"
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Scrapper shrugged indifferently, not even looking up as he continued to root though the debris and bodies. "Fine, Hook, but if they do something stupid it's on your head. Find a clear table and start working on them."
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"If you mean to inquire about my mental health," Shuttle Gunner told Tinker with a shrug, "I'm afraid you'll need to be the judge. My self-actualization protocols are incomplete, and my emotional processing code is underdeveloped at best. Most of the Decepticons I meet express envy at my lack of feeling, but I find their thoughts poorly-constructed at best."
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Hate Plague Danger Zone
Rage looked down at the prone Breakdown, who he'd pinned on the ground. The Stunticon's fist hit him in the shoulder, but Rage was so buzzing with anger that he didn't feel it. He balled his own hands into fists, feeling murderous intent flow through him as he prepared to strike.
But he didn't. Instead of pummelling the other Transformer's face in, he grabbed for Breakdown's wrists and tried to pin him more securely.
"Now would be a good time, vaunted Autobot snipers!" he growled over their communications channel.
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"Thank you," Ultra Magnus told Perceptor impatiently. "I'll be going, then. Fireflight, follow me."
"But, uh...you're a truck," the Aerialbot pointed out. "I'm, uh, way faster than you, sir."
"Be that as it may," Ultra Magnus said, "I'd rather you find the hospital slowly than get lost quickly, so you're coming with me."
"Oh. Right. Aye, sir."
With a resigned sigh, Magnus forced himself to ignore the younger Autobot's silliness and open a comm channel. "This is Ultra Magnus to any Autobot forces in the area. Put me through to your commanding officer immediately."
Notably, he didn't even bother to ask Fireflight.
"Stay here," he told Sixshot. "These troopers are less injured than some others. Your speed might be needed by someone else."
Truth be told, he simply didn't want the sixchanger's presence to remind him of how Sixshot had overcome the plague where he, Ultra Magnus, had failed.
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Southwest Border
Sandstorm didn't wait to ask stupid questions. When Broadside said to bail, he bailed, vaulting off of the crashing Imperial, smashing through an already half-broken window and crashing to a stop inside a long-abandoned living room.
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The Lunatic Fringe
Slugslinger and Triggerhappy continued to fire, and the shell the three Decepticons were targeting quickly transformed into a smoking wreck. It wasn't the only one, though, and the other two shells turned to engage the Decepticons.
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"We're fine," Spinister called to his troops. "Keep Thunderwing busy for a few more minutes! And don't die."
Looking down, he watched impatiently as Needlenose tried to rouse Cyclonus.
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Thunderwing's head snapped back and the Pretender staggered as Prime's blow landed. The right half of his head crest was mangled by the impact, the topmost part of it snapping off entirely. Snarling, he slowly drew himself back up to his full height and turned back around to face the Autobot leader. He spat out the broken tips of several of his teeth on the ground at Prime's feet, then shook his head.
"Enough? No Prime. Not enough. Not even close!"
He balled his right hand into a fist, but didn't strike with it. Instead, he held it up and waited as glowing purple energy started to gather around it.
"Tell me, Prime...have you ever wondered why I can do this with a Matrix and you can't? Could it be that Thunderwing, not Optimus or Rodimus, is the true chosen one?"
Before Prime could answer, Thunderwing hurled a purple lightning bolt at him.
"I think so!"
[G1 RPG] Terminus: The Tempest (Protihex), Part II
Probably missed a few, but this needed to go up
The Lunatic Fringe
The dark bolt struck against Optimus Prime's torso, causing him to reel back from the impact.
But, curiously, the attack did little else; not a single burn or puncture. The Autobot Leader's plating was left unscathed, his body remained untainted by Thunderwing's corrupted Matrix.
I assumed correctly
A cleansing blue aura washed over him, flushing and fading. "Thank you, Thunderwing," he said, "for confirming what I have long suspected. And, what little you actually know..."
Optimus stood up straight. "Our Matrices - the Creation Matrix and what has been erroneously dubbed the 'Decepticon Matrix' - are flip-sides of the same coin. Both are derived from the same source," Prime told him while he stepped forward. "They're designed to complement each other, for a purpose that you seem to not comprehend -- or simply refuse to acknowledge. They cannot be used to destroy one another."
The Autobot Leader stopped a few paces before Thunderwing, meeting him optic to optic. "You are no chosen one," he said, "only an affront to Primus."
In a swift motion, Optimus Prime struck at the crack on the Pretender's chest, made earlier in their battle.
"With the willpower, any mechanoid can do what you have done with the Matrix."
---
Meanwhile, nearby the nondescript building where the fate of the planet was being decided, Prowl and his response unit continued to keep vigil.
"Oooh," Dogfight groaned, "this is so boring."
"Nevertheless," said Prowl, "optics on the building, Dogfight."
"General Prowl," Dai Atlas commed from the Trion. "I have a priority--"
"This channel is for emergency use only, Dai Atlas," the General chided. "You were assigned to oversee operations from the bridge while I am on the field. Is this not a matter that yourself can address?"
"Normally, yes, but we just received a transmission...from Ultra Magnus."
The General emoted nothing, flatly stating, "Interesting."
Prowl tapped his left audio receptor and took the call. "Ultra Magnus -- May I assume you have somehow managed overcome your affliction?"
__________________________
Hoist's Shuttle
"Morphobots," answered Hoist. "A spike tendril grazed over his chest, damaging several vital components and misaligning his spark chamber," he told Searchlight. "Freeway is stable, but fading. But, like I said, he's fitted with a place-holder power core. That should buy him a few more solar cycles. At very least.
"And, yes, spark transplant is a feasible option, but again, I dare not do it here -- and not without a protoform to transfer his sp--"
The Autobot mechanic stopped short when Shockwave entered the medical center. The former-Decepticon stood at the open archway, his mono-optic looking on patiently for Hoist to finish.
"Oh. Hello Shockwave," he said, blasé, "What can I do for you?"
"Pardon my intrusion, but are you able to relinquish any stasis pods in your reserve?"
"Mmm, I believe so. More wounded coming in?"
"Currently, no, but the need is no less imperative," said Shockwave. "We require pressured vessels to contain the enzymes Hook has developed to counteract the Imperial's synthetic 'hate plague'. Stasis pods offer a timely solution, with minimal modifications."
Hoist gave the purple cyclopean a questioning look. "Sooo...essentially, you're converting them into bio-bombs?" The mechanic sighed. "Seems like an awful waste, but it's hard not to notice the ominous red cloud hanging over the city-state center."
He pointed toward the morgue. "Be respectful while in you're in there and take only what you need."
"I intend to."
The Autobot mechanic's gaze followed Shockwave as he made for the adjoining room, before shifting his focus back onto Searchlight's injuries.
Hoist chuckled. "Only in Protihex," he said, "can you see a former-Decepticon Military Operations Commander turned peacekeeper and all-around do-gooder."
_________________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
"Oh, you are quite welcome, Ultra Magnus," Perceptor replied, utterly oblivious to the Autobot Commader's obvious irritation. He was too preoccupied by the targets locked in his sights of his rifle.
With a smile, the science officer pulled the trigger, launching an armor-piercing dart at Breakdown.
"I think you're enjoying this way too much, Perceptor," Pointblank quipped.
The dark bolt struck against Optimus Prime's torso, causing him to reel back from the impact.
But, curiously, the attack did little else; not a single burn or puncture. The Autobot Leader's plating was left unscathed, his body remained untainted by Thunderwing's corrupted Matrix.
I assumed correctly
A cleansing blue aura washed over him, flushing and fading. "Thank you, Thunderwing," he said, "for confirming what I have long suspected. And, what little you actually know..."
Optimus stood up straight. "Our Matrices - the Creation Matrix and what has been erroneously dubbed the 'Decepticon Matrix' - are flip-sides of the same coin. Both are derived from the same source," Prime told him while he stepped forward. "They're designed to complement each other, for a purpose that you seem to not comprehend -- or simply refuse to acknowledge. They cannot be used to destroy one another."
The Autobot Leader stopped a few paces before Thunderwing, meeting him optic to optic. "You are no chosen one," he said, "only an affront to Primus."
In a swift motion, Optimus Prime struck at the crack on the Pretender's chest, made earlier in their battle.
"With the willpower, any mechanoid can do what you have done with the Matrix."
---
Meanwhile, nearby the nondescript building where the fate of the planet was being decided, Prowl and his response unit continued to keep vigil.
"Oooh," Dogfight groaned, "this is so boring."
"Nevertheless," said Prowl, "optics on the building, Dogfight."
"General Prowl," Dai Atlas commed from the Trion. "I have a priority--"
"This channel is for emergency use only, Dai Atlas," the General chided. "You were assigned to oversee operations from the bridge while I am on the field. Is this not a matter that yourself can address?"
"Normally, yes, but we just received a transmission...from Ultra Magnus."
The General emoted nothing, flatly stating, "Interesting."
Prowl tapped his left audio receptor and took the call. "Ultra Magnus -- May I assume you have somehow managed overcome your affliction?"
__________________________
Hoist's Shuttle
"Morphobots," answered Hoist. "A spike tendril grazed over his chest, damaging several vital components and misaligning his spark chamber," he told Searchlight. "Freeway is stable, but fading. But, like I said, he's fitted with a place-holder power core. That should buy him a few more solar cycles. At very least.
"And, yes, spark transplant is a feasible option, but again, I dare not do it here -- and not without a protoform to transfer his sp--"
The Autobot mechanic stopped short when Shockwave entered the medical center. The former-Decepticon stood at the open archway, his mono-optic looking on patiently for Hoist to finish.
"Oh. Hello Shockwave," he said, blasé, "What can I do for you?"
"Pardon my intrusion, but are you able to relinquish any stasis pods in your reserve?"
"Mmm, I believe so. More wounded coming in?"
"Currently, no, but the need is no less imperative," said Shockwave. "We require pressured vessels to contain the enzymes Hook has developed to counteract the Imperial's synthetic 'hate plague'. Stasis pods offer a timely solution, with minimal modifications."
Hoist gave the purple cyclopean a questioning look. "Sooo...essentially, you're converting them into bio-bombs?" The mechanic sighed. "Seems like an awful waste, but it's hard not to notice the ominous red cloud hanging over the city-state center."
He pointed toward the morgue. "Be respectful while in you're in there and take only what you need."
"I intend to."
The Autobot mechanic's gaze followed Shockwave as he made for the adjoining room, before shifting his focus back onto Searchlight's injuries.
Hoist chuckled. "Only in Protihex," he said, "can you see a former-Decepticon Military Operations Commander turned peacekeeper and all-around do-gooder."
_________________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
"Oh, you are quite welcome, Ultra Magnus," Perceptor replied, utterly oblivious to the Autobot Commader's obvious irritation. He was too preoccupied by the targets locked in his sights of his rifle.
With a smile, the science officer pulled the trigger, launching an armor-piercing dart at Breakdown.
"I think you're enjoying this way too much, Perceptor," Pointblank quipped.
Constructicon Hospital
“Eh, not now, probably. ‘Structies need their little scrap-drone to carry stuff around.” Brawl replied to Snarl as he wheeled over the guns (including some stripped from dead combatants) to other Combaticons. Brawl didn’t answer Snarl’s question for a second or two, before replying nonchalantly, “Yeah. Onslaught died. Blast Off and I are what’s left of the original Combaticons.”
Long Haul noticeably had moved even further away from Snarl and Brawl, and has grown more quiet as he stripped a chunk of engine part from Blurr.
_______________________________________
“If Mixmaster tries to blow us all up again, I shall personally transplant his brain module into Gears’ body.” Hook replied to Scrapper, before walking up towards Mixmaster. Pulling out a syringe of stimultants, he stabbed Mixmaster in the neck with the device.
Mixmaster’s optics whined back into life and he screamed, scrabbling at his neck and pulling out the syringe. “That hurt!” The chemist yelled, gasping as he recoiled.
“Get up.” Hook said indifferently as he pulled Bonecrusher’s CR Chamber next to an operating table. “Long Haul, we require a fuel pump of the same specifications as Mixmaster’s before we can begin the operation. Scrapper, if you would help me…”
“I said, that hurt. The Pit must you use that.” Mixmaster complained as he stood up. “The hell was I out cold anyway?”
“You don’t get to speak.” Hook snapped, pointing a scalpel at Mixmaster’s face. “You exposed yourself to the Hate Plague. You nearly compromised this entire medical facility! You nearly doomed out entire race, you blighted fool!”
“Oh.” Mixmaster tilted his head, unabashed. “So… we got a cure?”
“Unrepentant fool. You are fortunate we have need of you. I had to strong-arm you to unconsciousness, but yes. Before I have to knock you out again, take the formula on that datapad, synthesize a version of it which can be spread through the air via pressure, and synthesize as much of it.” Hook said, before opening Bonecrusher’s CR chamber and moving his brother onto the table.
Long Haul handed him the fuel pump, and with a surgeon’s speed and precision Hook began his work, arms flying and moving at a speed no mere medic could hope to compete with as he ripped out Bonecrusher’s damaged fuel pump at the same time as he attached the new one onto it.
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“I figured out something like that, but I’m not a psychologist.” Tinker told Shuttle Gunner as he took several chunks of armour salvaged from Great Cannon and Sky High over to where Hook was repairing Bonecrusher. “Hell, I’m not sure if the Decepticons even still have one in our ranks.” The Seeker shrugged. “Once this is all over, I’ll see if we can find you one. Hopefully Rung is still alive. Just... just stay away from Bombshell.”
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Hoist's Shuttle
Searchlight nodded numbly as Hoist explained Freeway’s condition further, rubbing his forehead with one hand. “A Morphobot… a few solar cycles… oh Primus. Please. Please, Hoist, make sure Freeway gets on the first shuttle to Iacon as soon as all this is over.” The Throttlebot reflexively winced as Shockwave entered the room.
Windcharger was less composed than Searchlight. At the mere sight of Shockwave, the Autobot had reflexively assumed a battle stance, hands glowing purple as he activated his magnetic generators, ready to throw a scalpel or something into Shockwave’s face… before remembering what side Shockwave had been on for a few years now.
“Sorry. Reflex.” Windcharger said as he powered down, although he didn’t sound apologetic. You wouldn’t, after all, if someone had all but killed you and your friends and hung your barely-functional bodies from the roof. The Minibot followed Shockwave. “I can help you carry the pods.” His voice was static and devoid of friendliness, in a manner that eerily resembled Shockwave's own tone. He knew Shockwave was on their side now… but he will never, ever forgive the former Decepticon leader.
“Yeah. This is a weird city all right.” Searchlight replied disinterestedly. Hoist's attempt at a joke reminded him of Freeway, which did not help at all.
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Hate Plague Danger Zone
Breakdown still screamed and screamed, his break down field amped up to the maximum setting, that his own frame even began to vibrate and spasm. Perceptor’s armour-piercing dart sailed through the air and struck true on Breakdown’s neck, and the cure flowed into his body. Breakdown screamed and screamed…
Until oblivion, sweet, sweet oblivion took him over and he went limp as he lost consciousness.
Red-coloured dust flaked off his silent and unmoving form as the nightmare – and the Plague – passed.
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“If you say so.” Sixshot replied indifferently to Ultra Magnus, seemingly completely oblivious to the City Commander’s conflict…
He was aware, of course, of how he had turned away from the delicious, delicious Hate Plague, and he knew, for the interests of the greater whole, Magnus should not have that fact waved in front of his face. And Sixshot felt some sort of twisted satisfaction as well in not rising up to Magnus’ annoyance.
The Decepticon shot into the air and transformed into his hovering weapon mode, ready to assist should Perceptor or Magnus ask him to.
Blast Off, meanwhile, kept pace next to Fireflight, not saying a word to Ultra Magnus or Fireflight. He knew he didn’t take orders from Magnus, but all the same, he was about to return to base anyway… and he knew Magnus wasn’t exactly thinking straight.
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Southwest Border
(OOC: I’m assuming Topspin had leapt off as well, yes?)
As the three Wreckers disengaged, the final part of Shock Wave, burning from the assault of the Wreckers, Aerialbots and other Autobots, slowly lost altitude, spinning as it did so, before crashing next to the rest of its components, which were still burning… and, like them, as soon as the flames reached the energon lines it ignited as well, forming a massive fireball…
And the last of the Dreadnought-class Imperials was dead.
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Broadside shook his head as he got to his feet. “Topspin, Sandstorm- we beat that them. Just like the old days.”
Drift lowered his blade as he deflected the last mortar away from the wounded. He lowered his greatsword, held in one arm… his other arm holding the gun that he had used to fire upon Shock Wave’s engines… and glanced at Electro’s corpse. Too high. The price of victory this time was too high.
Drift glanced down at the gun in his arm, and could hear his impersonation of Deadlock earlier that week, when he was talking to the Imperial spy. The thought of his former self rising back again… Drift threw away the gun in disgust and sheathed his blade, before walking wordlessly away from the battlefield.
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The Lunatic Fringe
“Two more.” Misfire told Slugslinger and Triggerhappy. “Yeah, Spinny, we love you too.” Misfire said conversationally as he picked one of the shell and unloaded several more ion pulses at the Pretender.
Two more. Yeah. Focus, Misfire. Focus.
Might as well as be two hundred more if you shoot Slugslinger again.
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-You go, Prime.-
Springer saw as Optimus Prime moved into the offensive, and the sight riled him up. He can’t die here. Not when he could see the war end right then and there.
“Eh, not now, probably. ‘Structies need their little scrap-drone to carry stuff around.” Brawl replied to Snarl as he wheeled over the guns (including some stripped from dead combatants) to other Combaticons. Brawl didn’t answer Snarl’s question for a second or two, before replying nonchalantly, “Yeah. Onslaught died. Blast Off and I are what’s left of the original Combaticons.”
Long Haul noticeably had moved even further away from Snarl and Brawl, and has grown more quiet as he stripped a chunk of engine part from Blurr.
_______________________________________
“If Mixmaster tries to blow us all up again, I shall personally transplant his brain module into Gears’ body.” Hook replied to Scrapper, before walking up towards Mixmaster. Pulling out a syringe of stimultants, he stabbed Mixmaster in the neck with the device.
Mixmaster’s optics whined back into life and he screamed, scrabbling at his neck and pulling out the syringe. “That hurt!” The chemist yelled, gasping as he recoiled.
“Get up.” Hook said indifferently as he pulled Bonecrusher’s CR Chamber next to an operating table. “Long Haul, we require a fuel pump of the same specifications as Mixmaster’s before we can begin the operation. Scrapper, if you would help me…”
“I said, that hurt. The Pit must you use that.” Mixmaster complained as he stood up. “The hell was I out cold anyway?”
“You don’t get to speak.” Hook snapped, pointing a scalpel at Mixmaster’s face. “You exposed yourself to the Hate Plague. You nearly compromised this entire medical facility! You nearly doomed out entire race, you blighted fool!”
“Oh.” Mixmaster tilted his head, unabashed. “So… we got a cure?”
“Unrepentant fool. You are fortunate we have need of you. I had to strong-arm you to unconsciousness, but yes. Before I have to knock you out again, take the formula on that datapad, synthesize a version of it which can be spread through the air via pressure, and synthesize as much of it.” Hook said, before opening Bonecrusher’s CR chamber and moving his brother onto the table.
Long Haul handed him the fuel pump, and with a surgeon’s speed and precision Hook began his work, arms flying and moving at a speed no mere medic could hope to compete with as he ripped out Bonecrusher’s damaged fuel pump at the same time as he attached the new one onto it.
_______________________________________
“I figured out something like that, but I’m not a psychologist.” Tinker told Shuttle Gunner as he took several chunks of armour salvaged from Great Cannon and Sky High over to where Hook was repairing Bonecrusher. “Hell, I’m not sure if the Decepticons even still have one in our ranks.” The Seeker shrugged. “Once this is all over, I’ll see if we can find you one. Hopefully Rung is still alive. Just... just stay away from Bombshell.”
_______________________________________
Hoist's Shuttle
Searchlight nodded numbly as Hoist explained Freeway’s condition further, rubbing his forehead with one hand. “A Morphobot… a few solar cycles… oh Primus. Please. Please, Hoist, make sure Freeway gets on the first shuttle to Iacon as soon as all this is over.” The Throttlebot reflexively winced as Shockwave entered the room.
Windcharger was less composed than Searchlight. At the mere sight of Shockwave, the Autobot had reflexively assumed a battle stance, hands glowing purple as he activated his magnetic generators, ready to throw a scalpel or something into Shockwave’s face… before remembering what side Shockwave had been on for a few years now.
“Sorry. Reflex.” Windcharger said as he powered down, although he didn’t sound apologetic. You wouldn’t, after all, if someone had all but killed you and your friends and hung your barely-functional bodies from the roof. The Minibot followed Shockwave. “I can help you carry the pods.” His voice was static and devoid of friendliness, in a manner that eerily resembled Shockwave's own tone. He knew Shockwave was on their side now… but he will never, ever forgive the former Decepticon leader.
“Yeah. This is a weird city all right.” Searchlight replied disinterestedly. Hoist's attempt at a joke reminded him of Freeway, which did not help at all.
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Hate Plague Danger Zone
Breakdown still screamed and screamed, his break down field amped up to the maximum setting, that his own frame even began to vibrate and spasm. Perceptor’s armour-piercing dart sailed through the air and struck true on Breakdown’s neck, and the cure flowed into his body. Breakdown screamed and screamed…
Until oblivion, sweet, sweet oblivion took him over and he went limp as he lost consciousness.
Red-coloured dust flaked off his silent and unmoving form as the nightmare – and the Plague – passed.
_______________________________________
“If you say so.” Sixshot replied indifferently to Ultra Magnus, seemingly completely oblivious to the City Commander’s conflict…
He was aware, of course, of how he had turned away from the delicious, delicious Hate Plague, and he knew, for the interests of the greater whole, Magnus should not have that fact waved in front of his face. And Sixshot felt some sort of twisted satisfaction as well in not rising up to Magnus’ annoyance.
The Decepticon shot into the air and transformed into his hovering weapon mode, ready to assist should Perceptor or Magnus ask him to.
Blast Off, meanwhile, kept pace next to Fireflight, not saying a word to Ultra Magnus or Fireflight. He knew he didn’t take orders from Magnus, but all the same, he was about to return to base anyway… and he knew Magnus wasn’t exactly thinking straight.
_______________________________________
Southwest Border
(OOC: I’m assuming Topspin had leapt off as well, yes?)
As the three Wreckers disengaged, the final part of Shock Wave, burning from the assault of the Wreckers, Aerialbots and other Autobots, slowly lost altitude, spinning as it did so, before crashing next to the rest of its components, which were still burning… and, like them, as soon as the flames reached the energon lines it ignited as well, forming a massive fireball…
And the last of the Dreadnought-class Imperials was dead.
_______________________________________
Broadside shook his head as he got to his feet. “Topspin, Sandstorm- we beat that them. Just like the old days.”
Drift lowered his blade as he deflected the last mortar away from the wounded. He lowered his greatsword, held in one arm… his other arm holding the gun that he had used to fire upon Shock Wave’s engines… and glanced at Electro’s corpse. Too high. The price of victory this time was too high.
Drift glanced down at the gun in his arm, and could hear his impersonation of Deadlock earlier that week, when he was talking to the Imperial spy. The thought of his former self rising back again… Drift threw away the gun in disgust and sheathed his blade, before walking wordlessly away from the battlefield.
_______________________________________
The Lunatic Fringe
“Two more.” Misfire told Slugslinger and Triggerhappy. “Yeah, Spinny, we love you too.” Misfire said conversationally as he picked one of the shell and unloaded several more ion pulses at the Pretender.
Two more. Yeah. Focus, Misfire. Focus.
Might as well as be two hundred more if you shoot Slugslinger again.
_______________________________________
-You go, Prime.-
Springer saw as Optimus Prime moved into the offensive, and the sight riled him up. He can’t die here. Not when he could see the war end right then and there.
Southwest Border
(OOC: We'll assume he did...)
Topspin looked over at Broadside, the wear and tear of the day finally getting to him, his voice not including even an ounce of the bravado that it normally carried. "About time. I hope they don't have anything else left, cause I can't keep this pace up much longer. Running on fumes here." He said, bracing himself against some debris.
Topspin looked over at Broadside, the wear and tear of the day finally getting to him, his voice not including even an ounce of the bravado that it normally carried. "About time. I hope they don't have anything else left, cause I can't keep this pace up much longer. Running on fumes here." He said, bracing himself against some debris.
No Reserves, No Retreats, and No Regrets!!!
Southeast Border
"You know what, Topspin, I think I am too." Broadside said as his shoulders drooped and he sat down, leaning against a chunk of what used to be a building. "Maybe we are getting old. Next thing you know, Pyro, Rotorstorm and Guzzle's going to replace us as the new Wreckers or something."
He turned his head. "Hey, Sandy, you all right?"
"You know what, Topspin, I think I am too." Broadside said as his shoulders drooped and he sat down, leaning against a chunk of what used to be a building. "Maybe we are getting old. Next thing you know, Pyro, Rotorstorm and Guzzle's going to replace us as the new Wreckers or something."
He turned his head. "Hey, Sandy, you all right?"
Constructicon Hospital
"A shame," Snarl said, surprised to find that he actually meant it. "We lost Swoop and Slag. At least. I haven't seen Grimlock since the fight started, and Sludge was in really rough shape when I left him. Maybe they're gone too." He shrugged. "That's war, though. Shame it's the only thing mechs like us are good for, right Brawl?"
_______________________________________
"I'm not a nurse," Scrapper told Hook. "Why do you need help with a simple fuel pump transplant? I've done four of them today without any help."
Nevertheless, he did walk over to help his fellow Constructicon.
_______________________________________
Shuttle Gunner actually laughed at Tinker's joke, just a little bit. "I think you may have confused 'psychiatrist' with 'psychological warfare'. I assure you they are not the same thing."
_______________________________________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
Rage let Breakdown go as the Hate Plague spores withered and died on the other Decepticon's body. Standing back, he spoke again to Perceptor.
"Now me," he said, looking down disdainfully at the bright red colour that covered his entire body. "I would hate to get mistaken for Sideswipe."
_______________________________________
Ultra Magnus managed to hold back a sarcastic retort to Prowl's stupid question. "Of course," was all he said, but even then the annoyance was evident in his voice. "Give me a status report, Prowl."
Fireflight followed the Autobots' military commander at a distance and whispered to Blast Off, "Does he seem pissier than usual, or is it just me?"
_______________________________________
Southwest Border
"Yeah," Sandstorm said. "We did. Just like the old days."
With a bunch of dead comrades to show for it, he thought bitterly. Just like the old days.
"I'm fine," he told Broadside. Then he looked down at his damaged, battered body and laughed. "Well, I'm no more of a mess than I was before the fight, anyway. You?"
_______________________________________
The Lunatic Fringe
Slugslinger picked the shell that Misfire wasn't shooting at and started to pound it with automatic weaponsfire. Triggerhappy looked between his comrades, then shrugged and decided to help out Slugslinger with his target.
Scary that Misfire is the competent one, now... he thought fleetingly, before opening fire.
The shells staggered, but neither of them stopped advancing.
_______________________________________
"Impossible!" Thunderwing's fury was clearly evident as Prime spoke, and he was so clearly in the grip of it that he didn't even move when Optimus lashed out and knocked him off of his feet. If he noticed the damage on his chest, he showed no sign of it.
"You dare?" he demanded, insanity burning in his eyes. "You, who lost your own Matrix to me, have the sheer, unadulterated gall to question the one true master of all the Matrices? Your pathetic 'Primus' is dead, Optimus. Dead and gone! All that's left of him belongs to me! To Thunderwing, the new god!"
"Oh, shut up!"
Thunderwing's head snapped around and he saw Cyclonus standing behind him with a concerned-looking Spinister and Needlenose flanking him. The Decepticon was standing straight, a stern expression on his face, but it was obvious that he was still weakened by his previous injuries.
"You again? Go away, pest!"
He fired a burst of Matrix energy at Cyclonus's chest...only to see it arc away from his target into the ceiling. "What?" He fired again and again, only to watch the blast curve away from the Targetmaster and impact the floor, walls or furniture. "Impossible!"
Cyclonus laughed bitterly. "Hardly. You know nothing about the relic you carry, Thunderwing, or what it can do." Glancing over to Optimus, he said, "You're wasting your time trying to get through to him. We need to end this now, before he hurts anyone else!"
"A shame," Snarl said, surprised to find that he actually meant it. "We lost Swoop and Slag. At least. I haven't seen Grimlock since the fight started, and Sludge was in really rough shape when I left him. Maybe they're gone too." He shrugged. "That's war, though. Shame it's the only thing mechs like us are good for, right Brawl?"
_______________________________________
"I'm not a nurse," Scrapper told Hook. "Why do you need help with a simple fuel pump transplant? I've done four of them today without any help."
Nevertheless, he did walk over to help his fellow Constructicon.
_______________________________________
Shuttle Gunner actually laughed at Tinker's joke, just a little bit. "I think you may have confused 'psychiatrist' with 'psychological warfare'. I assure you they are not the same thing."
_______________________________________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
Rage let Breakdown go as the Hate Plague spores withered and died on the other Decepticon's body. Standing back, he spoke again to Perceptor.
"Now me," he said, looking down disdainfully at the bright red colour that covered his entire body. "I would hate to get mistaken for Sideswipe."
_______________________________________
Ultra Magnus managed to hold back a sarcastic retort to Prowl's stupid question. "Of course," was all he said, but even then the annoyance was evident in his voice. "Give me a status report, Prowl."
Fireflight followed the Autobots' military commander at a distance and whispered to Blast Off, "Does he seem pissier than usual, or is it just me?"
_______________________________________
Southwest Border
"Yeah," Sandstorm said. "We did. Just like the old days."
With a bunch of dead comrades to show for it, he thought bitterly. Just like the old days.
"I'm fine," he told Broadside. Then he looked down at his damaged, battered body and laughed. "Well, I'm no more of a mess than I was before the fight, anyway. You?"
_______________________________________
The Lunatic Fringe
Slugslinger picked the shell that Misfire wasn't shooting at and started to pound it with automatic weaponsfire. Triggerhappy looked between his comrades, then shrugged and decided to help out Slugslinger with his target.
Scary that Misfire is the competent one, now... he thought fleetingly, before opening fire.
The shells staggered, but neither of them stopped advancing.
_______________________________________
"Impossible!" Thunderwing's fury was clearly evident as Prime spoke, and he was so clearly in the grip of it that he didn't even move when Optimus lashed out and knocked him off of his feet. If he noticed the damage on his chest, he showed no sign of it.
"You dare?" he demanded, insanity burning in his eyes. "You, who lost your own Matrix to me, have the sheer, unadulterated gall to question the one true master of all the Matrices? Your pathetic 'Primus' is dead, Optimus. Dead and gone! All that's left of him belongs to me! To Thunderwing, the new god!"
"Oh, shut up!"
Thunderwing's head snapped around and he saw Cyclonus standing behind him with a concerned-looking Spinister and Needlenose flanking him. The Decepticon was standing straight, a stern expression on his face, but it was obvious that he was still weakened by his previous injuries.
"You again? Go away, pest!"
He fired a burst of Matrix energy at Cyclonus's chest...only to see it arc away from his target into the ceiling. "What?" He fired again and again, only to watch the blast curve away from the Targetmaster and impact the floor, walls or furniture. "Impossible!"
Cyclonus laughed bitterly. "Hardly. You know nothing about the relic you carry, Thunderwing, or what it can do." Glancing over to Optimus, he said, "You're wasting your time trying to get through to him. We need to end this now, before he hurts anyone else!"
Galaxy Shuttle
Abroad the Galaxy Shuttle, Shrapnel would make this announcement to all the Decepticons that had gathered under the fake Megatron, and then Starscream.
"To all of Megatron's Decepticons, this is Security Director Shrapnel, Shrapnel. Cease all hostile actions against the Autobots, as well as the Decepticons allied with Gigatron, Gigatron. We have all rejoined the main faction, faction. The Decepticon Civil War is over, over."
Bludgeon sent a similar message, albeit this one was directed to Gigatron personally. "Gigatron, the apparent leaders of Megatron's faction have defected. This Civil War folly is ended. Our approximate arrival time to Protihex is 1,8 Breems."
_______________________________________
Battlefield
Blitzwing rolled across dead bodies in his tank form, launching a mortar at a retreating group of Stormtroopers, the very last stragglers. A black-coloured jet with fire decals shot through the sky above him, transformed and grabbed hold onto an airborne Imperial, forcibly altering its course and causing it to smash onto a building in an explosion. Skyjack shot away from the explosion harmlessly, landing next to Blitzwing.
"Hey, pops, you get that message?" Skyjack asked.
Blitzwing transformed into robot mode, rifle in hand as he sent several bursts of fire at another stray Imperial. "Got it. Never cared much for the Civil War, mind you. Good thing all that business is over. We've... lost enough comrades."
"Couldn't agree more." Skyjack chuckled. "Since we're all friends now... did you know I was here on Gigatron's orders? I don't get to kill you guys, which is a good thing."
Blitzwing scowled.
_______________________________________
Constructicon Hospital
"Don't really think Grimlock's the type to go down that easily." Brawl told Snarl, before chuckling. "Yeah... with so many of us battle-types dead, though, I'm pretty sure we're going to need to find another career after all this is over. Thankfully I got this peacekeeping police gig going on, which isn't quite so boring or tedious as the desk job the Autobots put me on when I wore the red badge."
_______________________________________
"Complications. Fuel pump transplant is not a problem." Hook told Scrapper as he continued to move and reconnect the new fuel pump transplant. "Bonecrusher has massive wounds in his torso and abdomen. If you do not simultaneously reroute the energon flow, when the fuel pump transplant is complete he will pump all the energon out of his body, which would be fatal."
"Long Haul, take care of the smaller wounds on his legs. I believe those are more to your... lesser caliber." Hook said as he continued to cut and attach the complex network of wires in the fuel pump region. Shrapnel's message reached them just then, but Hook ignored it.
Long Haul, oblivious of the slight insult, happily trotted over to Bonecrusher's legs and began soldering wounds shut.
_______________________________________
"Bombshell moonlights as a psychiatrist. At least he fancies himself one." Tinker replied to Shuttle Gunner. "Pretty sure anyone who meets him goes out even crazier, though."
_______________________________________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
"Hook, Shockwave, this is Moonjet. Transmitting topography scans right now." The Predator said as he flew over the land. "I see that the cure is progressing quite nicely as well. Returning to the encampment."
_______________________________________
"I dunno, most memories of Ultra Magnus is him trying to shoot me out of the sky." Blast Off whispered back to Fireflight. "Pretty sure he's a wee bit scarier now compared to when I was fighting him, which I'm pretty sure is not a good thing."
_______________________________________
Southwest Border
Broadside shrugged, which made several creaking sounds. He winced. "Eh, same old, same old, Sandstorm."
He leaned towards the building. "Oy, Skydive, where do we old war dogs go now? I'd hate to miss my last opportunity to blow up someone's head."
_______________________________________
The Lunatic Fringe
"We might want to take several steps back, guys." Misfire told Slugslinger and Triggerhappy as the shells continued to advance. Misfire continued to unload his ion bursts at them. It was not perfect, but he was hitting the target.
Focus. He needed to focus.
There was no more excuses now. No more Aimless, no lack of practice, the only thing that would hinder his being known as a Targetmaster would be himself... and he'd be damned if that was to happen.
Focus.
Misfire took one step backwards, then another, but continued to open fire.
_______________________________________
Springer watched as Thunderwing attempted to attack Optimus Prime, and then Cyclonus. Thunderwing was rambling, now, and Springer saw his old rivals Spinister and Needlenose. They had more numbers on their side now...
And Cyclonus seemed to be able to do something. Bloody Unicron-spawned rabbit-headed mook.
Good thing that Cyclonus was on their side now.
Energon levels at 18%
"Klll hmm." Springer attempted to speak. At the very least... he would stay alive, he would will himself to stay alive, to see Thunderwing die. To see the last threat to peace die.
Abroad the Galaxy Shuttle, Shrapnel would make this announcement to all the Decepticons that had gathered under the fake Megatron, and then Starscream.
"To all of Megatron's Decepticons, this is Security Director Shrapnel, Shrapnel. Cease all hostile actions against the Autobots, as well as the Decepticons allied with Gigatron, Gigatron. We have all rejoined the main faction, faction. The Decepticon Civil War is over, over."
Bludgeon sent a similar message, albeit this one was directed to Gigatron personally. "Gigatron, the apparent leaders of Megatron's faction have defected. This Civil War folly is ended. Our approximate arrival time to Protihex is 1,8 Breems."
_______________________________________
Battlefield
Blitzwing rolled across dead bodies in his tank form, launching a mortar at a retreating group of Stormtroopers, the very last stragglers. A black-coloured jet with fire decals shot through the sky above him, transformed and grabbed hold onto an airborne Imperial, forcibly altering its course and causing it to smash onto a building in an explosion. Skyjack shot away from the explosion harmlessly, landing next to Blitzwing.
"Hey, pops, you get that message?" Skyjack asked.
Blitzwing transformed into robot mode, rifle in hand as he sent several bursts of fire at another stray Imperial. "Got it. Never cared much for the Civil War, mind you. Good thing all that business is over. We've... lost enough comrades."
"Couldn't agree more." Skyjack chuckled. "Since we're all friends now... did you know I was here on Gigatron's orders? I don't get to kill you guys, which is a good thing."
Blitzwing scowled.
_______________________________________
Constructicon Hospital
"Don't really think Grimlock's the type to go down that easily." Brawl told Snarl, before chuckling. "Yeah... with so many of us battle-types dead, though, I'm pretty sure we're going to need to find another career after all this is over. Thankfully I got this peacekeeping police gig going on, which isn't quite so boring or tedious as the desk job the Autobots put me on when I wore the red badge."
_______________________________________
"Complications. Fuel pump transplant is not a problem." Hook told Scrapper as he continued to move and reconnect the new fuel pump transplant. "Bonecrusher has massive wounds in his torso and abdomen. If you do not simultaneously reroute the energon flow, when the fuel pump transplant is complete he will pump all the energon out of his body, which would be fatal."
"Long Haul, take care of the smaller wounds on his legs. I believe those are more to your... lesser caliber." Hook said as he continued to cut and attach the complex network of wires in the fuel pump region. Shrapnel's message reached them just then, but Hook ignored it.
Long Haul, oblivious of the slight insult, happily trotted over to Bonecrusher's legs and began soldering wounds shut.
_______________________________________
"Bombshell moonlights as a psychiatrist. At least he fancies himself one." Tinker replied to Shuttle Gunner. "Pretty sure anyone who meets him goes out even crazier, though."
_______________________________________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
"Hook, Shockwave, this is Moonjet. Transmitting topography scans right now." The Predator said as he flew over the land. "I see that the cure is progressing quite nicely as well. Returning to the encampment."
_______________________________________
"I dunno, most memories of Ultra Magnus is him trying to shoot me out of the sky." Blast Off whispered back to Fireflight. "Pretty sure he's a wee bit scarier now compared to when I was fighting him, which I'm pretty sure is not a good thing."
_______________________________________
Southwest Border
Broadside shrugged, which made several creaking sounds. He winced. "Eh, same old, same old, Sandstorm."
He leaned towards the building. "Oy, Skydive, where do we old war dogs go now? I'd hate to miss my last opportunity to blow up someone's head."
_______________________________________
The Lunatic Fringe
"We might want to take several steps back, guys." Misfire told Slugslinger and Triggerhappy as the shells continued to advance. Misfire continued to unload his ion bursts at them. It was not perfect, but he was hitting the target.
Focus. He needed to focus.
There was no more excuses now. No more Aimless, no lack of practice, the only thing that would hinder his being known as a Targetmaster would be himself... and he'd be damned if that was to happen.
Focus.
Misfire took one step backwards, then another, but continued to open fire.
_______________________________________
Springer watched as Thunderwing attempted to attack Optimus Prime, and then Cyclonus. Thunderwing was rambling, now, and Springer saw his old rivals Spinister and Needlenose. They had more numbers on their side now...
And Cyclonus seemed to be able to do something. Bloody Unicron-spawned rabbit-headed mook.
Good thing that Cyclonus was on their side now.
Energon levels at 18%
"Klll hmm." Springer attempted to speak. At the very least... he would stay alive, he would will himself to stay alive, to see Thunderwing die. To see the last threat to peace die.
The Lunatic Fringe
Optimus Prime stared firmly back at Cyclonus.
Though he was uncertain if the Decepticon's intentions were true, intuition once again won out. Cyclonus was clearly not the same mechanoid he was stellar cycles ago, a difference that went beyond the obvious physical changes.
In spite of Thunderwing's corrupting influence, this Matrix doesn't wish him to be harmed...? Could it be reaching out to him?
Such questions would have to remain unexplored for the time being. The Matrix-bearer was peripherally aware that Springer was still ensnared by the Pretender's force cage. This conflict needed to end -- and soon.
Prime nodded back at Cyclonus.
"Primus may be gone, Thunderwing, but he created the Matrices to save our race." The Autobot Leader darted for the floored Liege Centuro. "The power you have coveted would sooner consume you, than allow you to destroy us."
---
Near 'Nondescript Building', The Lunatic Fringe
"Containment has gone according to plan," said Prowl. "The perimeter still holds and the Imperial landing zone has been neutralized. Reports are much the same throughout the city-state," he told Ultra Magnus, "enemy numbers have diminished significantly, and those that have not perished, have defected --
"Autobot casualties, meanwhile, have been minimal," he added. If the General was proud of this fact, it was not at all apparent in his tone. "I am not prepared to draw any forgone conclusions, but the battle has clearly shifted in our favor. Furthermore -- Perceptor was able to determine Thunderwing's whereabouts to an abandoned commercial building in the Lunatic Fringe, where I and a response unit are currently positioned."
Prowl frowned. "Unfortunately, despite my insistence, Optimus Prime has chosen engage Thunderwing alone. We are not to interfere."
__________________________
Hoist's Shuttle
"Don't you worry, Searchlight," Hoist said consolingly. "I'll make sure he makes it back to Iacon. After all, he's already on a shuttle." The Autobot mechanic gestured to the room around them.
---
Shockwave disconnected an empty stasis pod from it's port and hefted it over his shoulder.
He was undisturbed by the terminal and deceased occupying the neighboring capsules as he continued down the aisle to the next.
The former-Decepticon glanced over his shoulder at Windcharger, incapable of noticing the tension and resentment that he was inadvertently causing. "Take what you are able to the encampment," Shockwave told him. "I shall join you momentarily."
_________________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
Perceptor grinned. "It would be my pleasure."
He then repositioned his rifle, bringing the crosshairs over Rage. "Apologies in advance," the science officer politely warned, "but this might sting a little."
He squeezed the trigger and launched another dart - containing Hook's antivirus - at the waiting Decepticon.
__________________
Southwest Border
Guzzle and Leadfoot looked on as Ambulon and others collected their wounded - and, regretfully, their dead.
"Rrr, damn it," the Sparkabot grumbled, espying the MARBS carrying off Skram and Volt back to the Aesculapius.
He darted his optics over to the upper-torso remains of Shock-Wave, cleft from its lower half by the now-offline Omega Sentinel 02.
"Fraggin' piece of Imperial junk!"
Abruptly, Guzzle roared, leapt into tank mode, and launched an explosive charge at the Imperial titan's carcass.
Shock-Wave was engulfed in a ball of flame. For all the good it did. Though it no longer posed a threat to anyone now, the giant's armor absorbed the blunt of the smaller Autobot's attack.
"Feel any better?" asked Leadfoot
Guzzle shifted back into mechanoid form. "Eh, not really," he replied with a shrug. "But it helps. Gotta take it out on somethin'."
Optimus Prime stared firmly back at Cyclonus.
Though he was uncertain if the Decepticon's intentions were true, intuition once again won out. Cyclonus was clearly not the same mechanoid he was stellar cycles ago, a difference that went beyond the obvious physical changes.
In spite of Thunderwing's corrupting influence, this Matrix doesn't wish him to be harmed...? Could it be reaching out to him?
Such questions would have to remain unexplored for the time being. The Matrix-bearer was peripherally aware that Springer was still ensnared by the Pretender's force cage. This conflict needed to end -- and soon.
Prime nodded back at Cyclonus.
"Primus may be gone, Thunderwing, but he created the Matrices to save our race." The Autobot Leader darted for the floored Liege Centuro. "The power you have coveted would sooner consume you, than allow you to destroy us."
---
Near 'Nondescript Building', The Lunatic Fringe
"Containment has gone according to plan," said Prowl. "The perimeter still holds and the Imperial landing zone has been neutralized. Reports are much the same throughout the city-state," he told Ultra Magnus, "enemy numbers have diminished significantly, and those that have not perished, have defected --
"Autobot casualties, meanwhile, have been minimal," he added. If the General was proud of this fact, it was not at all apparent in his tone. "I am not prepared to draw any forgone conclusions, but the battle has clearly shifted in our favor. Furthermore -- Perceptor was able to determine Thunderwing's whereabouts to an abandoned commercial building in the Lunatic Fringe, where I and a response unit are currently positioned."
Prowl frowned. "Unfortunately, despite my insistence, Optimus Prime has chosen engage Thunderwing alone. We are not to interfere."
__________________________
Hoist's Shuttle
"Don't you worry, Searchlight," Hoist said consolingly. "I'll make sure he makes it back to Iacon. After all, he's already on a shuttle." The Autobot mechanic gestured to the room around them.
---
Shockwave disconnected an empty stasis pod from it's port and hefted it over his shoulder.
He was undisturbed by the terminal and deceased occupying the neighboring capsules as he continued down the aisle to the next.
The former-Decepticon glanced over his shoulder at Windcharger, incapable of noticing the tension and resentment that he was inadvertently causing. "Take what you are able to the encampment," Shockwave told him. "I shall join you momentarily."
_________________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
Perceptor grinned. "It would be my pleasure."
He then repositioned his rifle, bringing the crosshairs over Rage. "Apologies in advance," the science officer politely warned, "but this might sting a little."
He squeezed the trigger and launched another dart - containing Hook's antivirus - at the waiting Decepticon.
__________________
Southwest Border
Guzzle and Leadfoot looked on as Ambulon and others collected their wounded - and, regretfully, their dead.
"Rrr, damn it," the Sparkabot grumbled, espying the MARBS carrying off Skram and Volt back to the Aesculapius.
He darted his optics over to the upper-torso remains of Shock-Wave, cleft from its lower half by the now-offline Omega Sentinel 02.
"Fraggin' piece of Imperial junk!"
Abruptly, Guzzle roared, leapt into tank mode, and launched an explosive charge at the Imperial titan's carcass.
Shock-Wave was engulfed in a ball of flame. For all the good it did. Though it no longer posed a threat to anyone now, the giant's armor absorbed the blunt of the smaller Autobot's attack.
"Feel any better?" asked Leadfoot
Guzzle shifted back into mechanoid form. "Eh, not really," he replied with a shrug. "But it helps. Gotta take it out on somethin'."
Constructicon Hospital
Snarl shook his head. "None of that for me," he said. "If any of the other Dinobots are still kicking, we'll find something else to fight for. If not...dunno."
He thought about what Brawl had to say for a few seconds, then opened a comm channel. "Dinobots, any of you still out there?"
"Me Sludge alive," came the quick response. "But not sure where me am. Crush leave Sludge at apartment to nap, but Sludge no want to nap!"
"Then just follow my signal," Snarl said with a grin. "What about the rest of you? Grimlock? Crush? Little buddy Grimstone?" He sighed. "Tyrannotron? Any of you still kicking?"
_______________________________________
Scrapper shrugged. "A real doctor could do the job on his own," he said, enjoying the chance to harass the irritable Hook, "but if you need my help then who am I to say no?"
He grabbed a tray of tools and carried them over to where Bonecrusher was sitting, then quickly got to work.
_______________________________________
Shuttle Gunner made a sound that might have been a laugh. "Given Bombshell's reputation," he told Tinker, "and the fact that I know well enough what he is in spite of never meeting him, anyone foolish enough to submit to his care probably deserves what they got."
_______________________________________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
Rage scratched his side lightly where Perceptor's dart hit, but he didn't really feel any different. A quick glance down confirmed that he wasn't glowing red anymore, though.
"And I'm sure you take no enjoyment shooting at Decepticons," he said with his usual nastiness. "Well, whatever. That moron Breakdown passed out, so I'm going to drag his useless hulk to the nearest medical station so that they can revive him and I can beat him back into unconsciousness for being so worthless. Get your Aerialbots to take whatever's left of my dumbass Stormtroopers there too."
With that, the Decepticon trooper grabbed Breakdown by the foot and started dragging him across the ground.
When Shrapnel called in, he openly laughed at the bug who'd been saddled with the terrible job that Rage had never wanted. "You're an idiot," he said plainly. "None of us have been fighting our allies at all, all day. Other than maybe Starscream, because he's an even bigger idiot than you are and can't help himself."
_______________________________________
"A wise choice," Ultra Magnus said, not sure if he was actually agreeing or just saying it to wind up Prowl. "Right now you're doing more good containing collateral damage that you would be as an extra gun shooting at Thunderwing. Besides which...I haven't seen Starscream, Cyclonus or Gigatron anywhere so I think it's safe to assume that Prime is nowhere near 'alone' in there."
Trying unsuccessfully not to worry about Prime for now, he asked, "Where can I do the most good?"
_______________________________________
"Yeah," Fireflight said, agreeing with Blast Off. "Um...do you think maybe they didn't get all the Hate Plague out of him? I mean, he's really big and all..."
_______________________________________
Battlefield
Skydive transformed to robot mode, landing atop a tall (and mostly undamaged) building to survey the battlefield. But there was very little to survey -- the battle, such as it was, was over.
"There's nothing left to blow up," he told Broadside. "You and your Wreckers should find a defensible position and dig in, just in case the Imperials make another push. But just between you and me, I think we're done here."
_______________________________________
Ramjet frowned when Shrapnel's orders came through. "Who died 'n' made you boss, little buggy? It'll make me really happy if you say 'Starscream'."
_______________________________________
The Lunatic Fringe
"Or, you know, we could do this instead," Triggerhappy said to Misfire. Dropping Blowpipe to the ground, the Targetmaster jumped forward, tackling the first of the Thunderwing shells at the knees. The unoccupied Pretender let out a bark of pain as his joints buckled in the reverse of the direction they were designed to bend, and the two of them bowled over the second shell as they went down. Both Thunderwings were stunned enough by Misfire's shots that they didn't immediately rip him to pieces, either, which was a bonus.
"Crazy bastard," Slugslinger muttered, "jumping forward when Misfire is shooting is just asking for trouble."
If he'd noticed that Misfire was actually competent now, he didn't let on.
_______________________________________
"No!" Thunderwing roared defiantly. Although he succeeded in narrowly scrambling away from Optimus Prime's grasp, Cyclonus wasn't sure whether or not he'd even seen the Autobot leader. Thunderwing's eyes were burning with the light of a fanatic whose faith had been shattered, and all his burning hatred was directed at a single target: Cyclonus himself. "It's a trick! A sham! The Matrix chose me, Cyclonus! Me and no other!"
"You forget who you're talking to," Cyclonus told Thunderwing scornfully. "I was there when you took the Matrix, Thunderwing. You're nothing but a blackmailer and a petty thief who takes what doesn't belong to him because he can't bear the thought that he's not special." His optics narrowed. "So tell me...how does it feel to be a common criminal?"
"You dare!" Thunderwing shot to his feet. "I am Lord High Commander Thunderwing! The last member of the old peerage! The last true noble on this benighted world! The power of the Matrix -- of all the Matrices -- rightly belongs to me! I am anything but common!"
The Pretender threw a wild punch at Cyclonus's head, which the Targetmaster easily ducked. Another punch was quickly incoming, but Cyclonus blocked this one by hooking Thunderwing's right forearm with his own. Then he let his momentum carry him around until his back was pressed up against Thunderwing's chest -- at which point he drove his elbow into Thunderwing's face. The blow landed with a sickening crunch as the shell's head caved in, and Cyclonus let the dead weight of the broken shell collapse to the ground.
"It's over, Thunderwing. Your shells are broken. Your troops are dead. The Matrix has stopped protecting you. You've lost." He took a few steps toward where his oxidizing laser had dropped, retrieved it and aimed it at the fallen tyrant. For a moment he lamented the fact that he'd left Nightstick behind, but he shook that thought away. The Imperial survivors had needed his protection, as symbolic as it had been, and he needed them if he was ever going to patch the rift that separated the lost offshoot of a race from their older brethren.
But one thing at a time...
This can go one of two ways, Thunderwing," Cyclonus said, firmly but not cruelly. "You can either crawl out of your shell and return to me what's mine or Prime and I can kill you and take it from your corpse."
"...n...n...Never!"
Thunderwing's shell opened alright, but when it did the traitor lunged forward, darting between the lanky Cyclonus's legs and firing his laser blaster at the back of the Decepticon's knee. Then he bolted for the nearest exit.
Cyclonus dropped to one knee, wincing. "Prime..."
_______________________________________
Galaxy Shuttle
"I wouldn't dream of it," Treadshot told Hooligan, his voice dripping with scorn.
__________________________________
Phaser just grumbled, but Blast Master gave Blackjack a smile. "As long as we're not enemies again next week," he said, "no hard feelings."
__________________________________
"I didn't even realize we were at war for the first decade or two," Wildfly told Blackjack cheerfully. Then he asked Slog, "What are you talking about? Them guys are tiny. No way we'd fit inside them."
The small Pretender was obviously blithely unaware of how mass-shifting worked.
__________________________________
"What?" Kickback scowled. "All my stuff was there! Dammit!"
He shook his head in disgust.
"That's probably a good idea. Shame we waited until everything we were fighting over was a smoking ruin."
__________________________________
Decepticon Space Station
Ravage responded to Shrapnel in a low, rasping hiss.
"No," he said bluntly. "Megatron and Soundwave are dead. I have no reason to join or rejoin anything. Since the Megatron imposter shot our bureaucrat's head off, consider this me filing my retirement papers."
Buzzsaw crowed, "He's been like this all day. But I've got an entire space station full of Decepticons and Imperials who would be more than happy to see the day end without anyone else getting shot. You think we can trust them?"
Snarl shook his head. "None of that for me," he said. "If any of the other Dinobots are still kicking, we'll find something else to fight for. If not...dunno."
He thought about what Brawl had to say for a few seconds, then opened a comm channel. "Dinobots, any of you still out there?"
"Me Sludge alive," came the quick response. "But not sure where me am. Crush leave Sludge at apartment to nap, but Sludge no want to nap!"
"Then just follow my signal," Snarl said with a grin. "What about the rest of you? Grimlock? Crush? Little buddy Grimstone?" He sighed. "Tyrannotron? Any of you still kicking?"
_______________________________________
Scrapper shrugged. "A real doctor could do the job on his own," he said, enjoying the chance to harass the irritable Hook, "but if you need my help then who am I to say no?"
He grabbed a tray of tools and carried them over to where Bonecrusher was sitting, then quickly got to work.
_______________________________________
Shuttle Gunner made a sound that might have been a laugh. "Given Bombshell's reputation," he told Tinker, "and the fact that I know well enough what he is in spite of never meeting him, anyone foolish enough to submit to his care probably deserves what they got."
_______________________________________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
Rage scratched his side lightly where Perceptor's dart hit, but he didn't really feel any different. A quick glance down confirmed that he wasn't glowing red anymore, though.
"And I'm sure you take no enjoyment shooting at Decepticons," he said with his usual nastiness. "Well, whatever. That moron Breakdown passed out, so I'm going to drag his useless hulk to the nearest medical station so that they can revive him and I can beat him back into unconsciousness for being so worthless. Get your Aerialbots to take whatever's left of my dumbass Stormtroopers there too."
With that, the Decepticon trooper grabbed Breakdown by the foot and started dragging him across the ground.
When Shrapnel called in, he openly laughed at the bug who'd been saddled with the terrible job that Rage had never wanted. "You're an idiot," he said plainly. "None of us have been fighting our allies at all, all day. Other than maybe Starscream, because he's an even bigger idiot than you are and can't help himself."
_______________________________________
"A wise choice," Ultra Magnus said, not sure if he was actually agreeing or just saying it to wind up Prowl. "Right now you're doing more good containing collateral damage that you would be as an extra gun shooting at Thunderwing. Besides which...I haven't seen Starscream, Cyclonus or Gigatron anywhere so I think it's safe to assume that Prime is nowhere near 'alone' in there."
Trying unsuccessfully not to worry about Prime for now, he asked, "Where can I do the most good?"
_______________________________________
"Yeah," Fireflight said, agreeing with Blast Off. "Um...do you think maybe they didn't get all the Hate Plague out of him? I mean, he's really big and all..."
_______________________________________
Battlefield
Skydive transformed to robot mode, landing atop a tall (and mostly undamaged) building to survey the battlefield. But there was very little to survey -- the battle, such as it was, was over.
"There's nothing left to blow up," he told Broadside. "You and your Wreckers should find a defensible position and dig in, just in case the Imperials make another push. But just between you and me, I think we're done here."
_______________________________________
Ramjet frowned when Shrapnel's orders came through. "Who died 'n' made you boss, little buggy? It'll make me really happy if you say 'Starscream'."
_______________________________________
The Lunatic Fringe
"Or, you know, we could do this instead," Triggerhappy said to Misfire. Dropping Blowpipe to the ground, the Targetmaster jumped forward, tackling the first of the Thunderwing shells at the knees. The unoccupied Pretender let out a bark of pain as his joints buckled in the reverse of the direction they were designed to bend, and the two of them bowled over the second shell as they went down. Both Thunderwings were stunned enough by Misfire's shots that they didn't immediately rip him to pieces, either, which was a bonus.
"Crazy bastard," Slugslinger muttered, "jumping forward when Misfire is shooting is just asking for trouble."
If he'd noticed that Misfire was actually competent now, he didn't let on.
_______________________________________
"No!" Thunderwing roared defiantly. Although he succeeded in narrowly scrambling away from Optimus Prime's grasp, Cyclonus wasn't sure whether or not he'd even seen the Autobot leader. Thunderwing's eyes were burning with the light of a fanatic whose faith had been shattered, and all his burning hatred was directed at a single target: Cyclonus himself. "It's a trick! A sham! The Matrix chose me, Cyclonus! Me and no other!"
"You forget who you're talking to," Cyclonus told Thunderwing scornfully. "I was there when you took the Matrix, Thunderwing. You're nothing but a blackmailer and a petty thief who takes what doesn't belong to him because he can't bear the thought that he's not special." His optics narrowed. "So tell me...how does it feel to be a common criminal?"
"You dare!" Thunderwing shot to his feet. "I am Lord High Commander Thunderwing! The last member of the old peerage! The last true noble on this benighted world! The power of the Matrix -- of all the Matrices -- rightly belongs to me! I am anything but common!"
The Pretender threw a wild punch at Cyclonus's head, which the Targetmaster easily ducked. Another punch was quickly incoming, but Cyclonus blocked this one by hooking Thunderwing's right forearm with his own. Then he let his momentum carry him around until his back was pressed up against Thunderwing's chest -- at which point he drove his elbow into Thunderwing's face. The blow landed with a sickening crunch as the shell's head caved in, and Cyclonus let the dead weight of the broken shell collapse to the ground.
"It's over, Thunderwing. Your shells are broken. Your troops are dead. The Matrix has stopped protecting you. You've lost." He took a few steps toward where his oxidizing laser had dropped, retrieved it and aimed it at the fallen tyrant. For a moment he lamented the fact that he'd left Nightstick behind, but he shook that thought away. The Imperial survivors had needed his protection, as symbolic as it had been, and he needed them if he was ever going to patch the rift that separated the lost offshoot of a race from their older brethren.
But one thing at a time...
This can go one of two ways, Thunderwing," Cyclonus said, firmly but not cruelly. "You can either crawl out of your shell and return to me what's mine or Prime and I can kill you and take it from your corpse."
"...n...n...Never!"
Thunderwing's shell opened alright, but when it did the traitor lunged forward, darting between the lanky Cyclonus's legs and firing his laser blaster at the back of the Decepticon's knee. Then he bolted for the nearest exit.
Cyclonus dropped to one knee, wincing. "Prime..."
_______________________________________
Galaxy Shuttle
"I wouldn't dream of it," Treadshot told Hooligan, his voice dripping with scorn.
__________________________________
Phaser just grumbled, but Blast Master gave Blackjack a smile. "As long as we're not enemies again next week," he said, "no hard feelings."
__________________________________
"I didn't even realize we were at war for the first decade or two," Wildfly told Blackjack cheerfully. Then he asked Slog, "What are you talking about? Them guys are tiny. No way we'd fit inside them."
The small Pretender was obviously blithely unaware of how mass-shifting worked.
__________________________________
"What?" Kickback scowled. "All my stuff was there! Dammit!"
He shook his head in disgust.
"That's probably a good idea. Shame we waited until everything we were fighting over was a smoking ruin."
__________________________________
Decepticon Space Station
Ravage responded to Shrapnel in a low, rasping hiss.
"No," he said bluntly. "Megatron and Soundwave are dead. I have no reason to join or rejoin anything. Since the Megatron imposter shot our bureaucrat's head off, consider this me filing my retirement papers."
Buzzsaw crowed, "He's been like this all day. But I've got an entire space station full of Decepticons and Imperials who would be more than happy to see the day end without anyone else getting shot. You think we can trust them?"
The Lunatic Fringe
As Thunderwing bolted for the exit, Optimus flashed his gaze over to his Apex armor, left surprisingly unscathed on the floor since the Autobot Leader was forced to eject from it.
Though Starscream's null ray had scrambled its systems earlier, enough time had transpired for its systems to reboot.
With a flicker of Optimus' optics, the suit climbed to its feet and shifted into trailer mode.
"Go!"
The armor's thrusters flared and, in a burst, the trailer jumped across the lobby floor, rocketing headlong for the fleeing Thunderwing.
---
Near 'Nondescript Building', The Lunatic Fringe
"You are free to seek out any remaining enemy outposts, if you are feeling up to the task," said Prowl. "Or, if it is your preference, you may join me here. Your--" The General paused while he mulled over his next choice of words. "Grim and soldierly presence would no doubt motivate this indolent lot under my command." He shot a glare toward Dogfight.
The blue Triggerbot jumped up, bewildered. "What? What did I do?!"
Prowl shook his head. "They will happily receive you," he told Ultra Magnus.
__________________
Outside of Hoist's Shuttle, Constructicon Field Hospital
(OOC: I've been waiting awhile to post this.)
As more and more battle-weary soldiers arrived at the Constructicon's field hospital, Cerebros, likewise, found a place alongside Hoist's shuttle to conduct repairs on his larger half, Fortress Maximus.
From the encampment, the sounds of the far-off conflict had died down, indicating that the day may soon be won. One should hope, Cerebros pondered.
At very least, he was entitled to a moment of respite. Perhaps this time it would last. Despite all odds, the Headmaster had persevered, though he had clearly been put through the wringer; from the hordes of Imperials and Thunderwing copies, to the titan Darkfleet.
Though, the loss of fellow crewmates and the citizens he had sworn to protect hung heavy over him, Cerebros took small comfort in knowing that Ratchet and Cog had kept the survivors safe.
While Fortress Maximus sat, the Steelhaven Captain mended one of the many bullet wounds riddling his transtector's back with a laser scalpel he borrowed from Hoist's work station.
"Cog," Cerebros said over his comlink. "How go things?"
"Well enough," replied Cog. "We're readying the old base for the refugees. All is clear -- though, we did happen upon...something during our inspection. Honestly, we're all a bit perplexed by it."
"That being?"
"A few things, actually," he continued. "Apparently Springer, at some point, set up a security system. But, not to worry," Cog assured the Captain, "I have managed to gain full access with the help of Brainstorm."
Cerebros lowered his laser scalpel. "I know nothing of this. What else?"
"The base was also fully stocked with various supplies. Energon rations, weaponry, stasis pods, among other things--
"And a Dark Guardian," the drone added. "Left over from the Quintesson invasion, I suspect. It's inert, of course."
The Steelhaven Captain raised his brow. "A Dark Guardian?" Amusement was in his voice.
"Yes."
"That's...very odd. Have you any idea what Springer was planning to do with -- well, any of that?"
"Not a clue," answered Cog. "Ratchet is going to have look at the Omega Sentinel, though, and decide from there what to do with it. Any suggestions?"
"We might find a use for it, but, for now do not reactivate it," Cerebros told the communications officer. "When we're done here, I'll speak with Springer myself, assuming I can get in touch with him -- What of the refugees?"
"The people are understandably rattled, but Groove is speaking with them now...."
----
Steelhaven - Underground Base, Manganese Mountains
At Groove's request, the refugees had gathered in the Steelhaven's reception hall.
The people needed reassurance. Their homes and lives had been devastated by the Imperial invaders; it would be a long road to healing. As the duly appointed Governor of Protihex, it was Groove's duty to guide his people during this most difficult time.
Luckily, he didn't have to do it alone; Ratchet and the crew of the Steelhaven were behind the young leader.
At the back of the reception hall, Groove stood at the edge of a raised platform facing the large assembly. All optics were on the former-Protectobot.
Ratchet, meanwhile, stood several paces behind the Governor, his arms crossed as he listened in.
"....No matter where we are, we are still Protihexians," said Groove. "We built Protihex together, through common ideals and our indomitable spirit. We carry that with us..."
"I promise you that we will return, but until that time, I offer you safe haven, here in the Manganese Mountains. There is enough room and supplies to go around, I assure you. Also, there will be an onsite hospital, living quarters, plenty of space to set up shop..."
"Did we mention that there will also be a bar?" Ratchet chimed in.
The crowd chuckled lightly in response.
"I know this will never replace what we have lost and I can't force you to make this decision," the Governor continued, "but I will do everything in my power to get you through this. I promise."
--
The crowd did not applaud once the former-Protectobot had finished, but instead promptly began to chatter among themselves. Not the desired response, but perfectly understandable.
Groove turned away and looked wearily over to Ratchet. "Well?" he asked. "How was that?"
"Not too shabby," said Ratchet. "Tactful, sensitive to their needs and feelings -- I think most of them will go along with it. We should probably start setting up a schedule for tours. I think it'll be easier to sell them on the idea once they've seen the base."
"Good idea." The Protectobot sighed. "There's also additional defensive measures we need to consider. But, one thing at a time, right?"
Ratchet gently patted Groove on the back. "You're doing fine," he consoled the Governor. "It's going to be okay. Really."
---
As Thunderwing bolted for the exit, Optimus flashed his gaze over to his Apex armor, left surprisingly unscathed on the floor since the Autobot Leader was forced to eject from it.
Though Starscream's null ray had scrambled its systems earlier, enough time had transpired for its systems to reboot.
With a flicker of Optimus' optics, the suit climbed to its feet and shifted into trailer mode.
"Go!"
The armor's thrusters flared and, in a burst, the trailer jumped across the lobby floor, rocketing headlong for the fleeing Thunderwing.
---
Near 'Nondescript Building', The Lunatic Fringe
"You are free to seek out any remaining enemy outposts, if you are feeling up to the task," said Prowl. "Or, if it is your preference, you may join me here. Your--" The General paused while he mulled over his next choice of words. "Grim and soldierly presence would no doubt motivate this indolent lot under my command." He shot a glare toward Dogfight.
The blue Triggerbot jumped up, bewildered. "What? What did I do?!"
Prowl shook his head. "They will happily receive you," he told Ultra Magnus.
__________________
Outside of Hoist's Shuttle, Constructicon Field Hospital
(OOC: I've been waiting awhile to post this.)
As more and more battle-weary soldiers arrived at the Constructicon's field hospital, Cerebros, likewise, found a place alongside Hoist's shuttle to conduct repairs on his larger half, Fortress Maximus.
From the encampment, the sounds of the far-off conflict had died down, indicating that the day may soon be won. One should hope, Cerebros pondered.
At very least, he was entitled to a moment of respite. Perhaps this time it would last. Despite all odds, the Headmaster had persevered, though he had clearly been put through the wringer; from the hordes of Imperials and Thunderwing copies, to the titan Darkfleet.
Though, the loss of fellow crewmates and the citizens he had sworn to protect hung heavy over him, Cerebros took small comfort in knowing that Ratchet and Cog had kept the survivors safe.
While Fortress Maximus sat, the Steelhaven Captain mended one of the many bullet wounds riddling his transtector's back with a laser scalpel he borrowed from Hoist's work station.
"Cog," Cerebros said over his comlink. "How go things?"
"Well enough," replied Cog. "We're readying the old base for the refugees. All is clear -- though, we did happen upon...something during our inspection. Honestly, we're all a bit perplexed by it."
"That being?"
"A few things, actually," he continued. "Apparently Springer, at some point, set up a security system. But, not to worry," Cog assured the Captain, "I have managed to gain full access with the help of Brainstorm."
Cerebros lowered his laser scalpel. "I know nothing of this. What else?"
"The base was also fully stocked with various supplies. Energon rations, weaponry, stasis pods, among other things--
"And a Dark Guardian," the drone added. "Left over from the Quintesson invasion, I suspect. It's inert, of course."
The Steelhaven Captain raised his brow. "A Dark Guardian?" Amusement was in his voice.
"Yes."
"That's...very odd. Have you any idea what Springer was planning to do with -- well, any of that?"
"Not a clue," answered Cog. "Ratchet is going to have look at the Omega Sentinel, though, and decide from there what to do with it. Any suggestions?"
"We might find a use for it, but, for now do not reactivate it," Cerebros told the communications officer. "When we're done here, I'll speak with Springer myself, assuming I can get in touch with him -- What of the refugees?"
"The people are understandably rattled, but Groove is speaking with them now...."
----
Steelhaven - Underground Base, Manganese Mountains
At Groove's request, the refugees had gathered in the Steelhaven's reception hall.
The people needed reassurance. Their homes and lives had been devastated by the Imperial invaders; it would be a long road to healing. As the duly appointed Governor of Protihex, it was Groove's duty to guide his people during this most difficult time.
Luckily, he didn't have to do it alone; Ratchet and the crew of the Steelhaven were behind the young leader.
At the back of the reception hall, Groove stood at the edge of a raised platform facing the large assembly. All optics were on the former-Protectobot.
Ratchet, meanwhile, stood several paces behind the Governor, his arms crossed as he listened in.
"....No matter where we are, we are still Protihexians," said Groove. "We built Protihex together, through common ideals and our indomitable spirit. We carry that with us..."
"I promise you that we will return, but until that time, I offer you safe haven, here in the Manganese Mountains. There is enough room and supplies to go around, I assure you. Also, there will be an onsite hospital, living quarters, plenty of space to set up shop..."
"Did we mention that there will also be a bar?" Ratchet chimed in.
The crowd chuckled lightly in response.
"I know this will never replace what we have lost and I can't force you to make this decision," the Governor continued, "but I will do everything in my power to get you through this. I promise."
--
The crowd did not applaud once the former-Protectobot had finished, but instead promptly began to chatter among themselves. Not the desired response, but perfectly understandable.
Groove turned away and looked wearily over to Ratchet. "Well?" he asked. "How was that?"
"Not too shabby," said Ratchet. "Tactful, sensitive to their needs and feelings -- I think most of them will go along with it. We should probably start setting up a schedule for tours. I think it'll be easier to sell them on the idea once they've seen the base."
"Good idea." The Protectobot sighed. "There's also additional defensive measures we need to consider. But, one thing at a time, right?"
Ratchet gently patted Groove on the back. "You're doing fine," he consoled the Governor. "It's going to be okay. Really."
---
The Lunatic Fringe
“Oh, shut your hole, Sluggie, and shoot these shells.” Misfire replied as he followed Triggerhappy, charging forwards. He did not tackle the shells, however, and instead emptied round after round at the shell that Triggerhappy wasn’t holding down. At that range, hopefully he wouldn’t miss… and, well, hopefully, he would hit something critical.
Adrenaline was pumping through him. He could do this, he could do this.
He’ll make Spinister and the others proud.
_______________________________________
Springer watched as the fight went on. Clearly the Matrix… whatever it- they- were, had rejected Thunderwing. So Cyclonus was the Decepticons’ version of Rodimus Prime? Eh, he did seem different… carried himself differently…
Ultra Magnus always said Cyclonus was a worthy opponent if he could get himself out of Galvatron’s shadow…
Seems like it’s true.
Damn it, if the bunny-eared goon could be so good, what excuse, does he have, then, for lying here broken and bleeding to death?
Energon levels at 16%
Springer’s blue optics shone again, shone brighter through one exposed, dangling eyeball and his other eye, the one still covered with the protective glass, albeit cracked.
Prime… Cyclonus… kill Thunderwing. Please.
Cyclonus had the upper hand, Thunderwing was flipping out… but he escaped. “NO!” Springer managed to blurt out, but thankfully Optimus was already on the case, shooting outwards, chasing Thunderwing.
Oh, this never ends. He needed a medic. Not to stop himself from dying, but to get himself back in the fight…
_______________________________________
Battlefield
Stranglehold turned to face Octopunch. “Well, now what do we do? Who do we shoot? Look, look, there is Thundercracker. He’s Megatron’s buddy. We shoot him, right?”
Stranglehold pointed at the blue Seeker flying alone, taking out some remaining Imperial forces some distance away from them.
_______________________________________
Southwest Border
Sitting on a chunk of rubble, absent-mindedly twirling his greatsword with the blade pointed towards the ground, Drift watched as Guzzle fired off a round out of frustration at the corpse of the dead titan. He shook his head. He would comfort the other Autobot, but he feared it would sound hollow, or, worse, sound like he was rubbing salt onto the wound.
After all, had he not killed some of Guzzle’s comrades in the past as well?
Had he not killed comrades of the other Autobots here?
No, he will not make a scene out of it, but neither could he forget the fact that his hands are, in fact, stained with blood. Autobot, Decepticon, Quintesson, Imperial… Drift watched the dead Autobots carted away, the dead Imperial trampled underfoot… and shook his head. Wherever he went, there was death. No, wherever the Transformers went, there was death. Was that the fate that would befell their entire race?
_______________________________________
“In case the Imperials… don’t know about you, Skydive, but I don’t see any Imperials around.” Broadside pulled out his gun and fired a shot angled towards the back without even looking. An Imperial sniper dropped from on top of a rubble piece. “Other than these stragglers, anyway. Yeah, you’ve got a point. Wreckers, you heard the air boss. Split up, take down the remaining stragglers.”
_______________________________________
Hoist's Shuttle
“Yeah. Thanks, Hoist.” Searchlight replied mutely, watching Freeway’s body forlornly. “Did… did any of the other Throttlebots…” Searchlight’s voice trailed off, but it was clear what his question was.
_______________________________________
Windcharger did not show any annoyance at Shockwave’s lack of reaction to his tone. Better for them to work silently and curtly...
After all, the bloody talking calculator wasn’t that much more alive than a Metrodrone.
Windcharger raised his hands, and both his eyes and hands glowed purple as he extended his magnetic powers towards the stasis pod Shockwave has disconnected, and it began to levitate out of the room. “Fine.” With the stasis pod in tow, Windcharger walked out of the office, and gave Hoist and Searchlight a wave. “Be back soon. Hopefully.”
_______________________________________
Constructicon Hospital
Brawl jerked a thumb towards the outside of the hospital. “Grimstone joined up with us a couple weeks back. He’s still alive. Road Hugger took him alongside the other battle-ready guys to take out the remaining Imperials and getting the wounded here.”
“I’m here, Snarl.” Grimstone’s voice came through the commlink. “Killing Imps. How you doing? How’re the others doing?”
_______________________________________
“Eh, we’ve been buddying up with Gig’s medics for, like, two days now. You think we’re that stupid, bugboy?” Mixmaster replied to Shrapnel as he continued to mix chemicals flamboyantly, as if he was at a bar making cocktails. “We hate the Imps more than we hate Gig’s bunch.”
_______________________________________
“A real doctor would realize when an additional set of hands is necessary for the success of an operation, and I am afraid Long Haul’s is insufficient.” Hook replied to Scrapper.
“Hey!” Long Haul said in protest. “Keep the insult lobbing session between the two of you!”
Hook let out a noise that was halfway between a grunt and a chuckle as he continued to work on Bonecrusher’s core systems. “Transformation Cog’s mercifully intact.” Hook muttered to himself, as he often did when doing an operation. “Fuel Pump transplant underway. Spark casing slightly dented. Next on priority. Long Haul, get me a replacement from one of the Combaticon xeroxes. Parts of the nervous systems are fried as well.”
Hook smiled. Morbid as it was, he loved a challenge.
_______________________________________
Tinker shrugged, “You don’t know how it was when the Decepticons were short-staffed. Megatron sent anyone with the slightest mental problem to Bombshell or Venom, and, really, it’s a good thing any of them came out capable of coherent speech at all.”
The Seeker sighed as he came across the bodies of the Kaonite Seekers. One was melted, the other had been blown up… Tinker shook his head and began cutting up the salvageable parts.
Moonjet and Darkjet returned from their patrol, transforming and landing and approaching Tinker and Shuttle Gunner. “Moonjet, is it? That replacement arm doesn’t suit you. I’ll replace it with a Seeker arm, like, right now.”
_______________________________________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
“Maybe.” Blast Off replied. “And he’s got two components as well. I’d shoot another dart onto him but I don’t have any.”
_______________________________________
Galaxy Shuttle
“Then be happy, Ramjet, Ramjet.” Shrapnel replied to the Conehead. “Starscream died.”
The Insecticon straight-up ignored Rage’s rude reply, but received affirmatives from Buzzsaw, Mixmaster, Blitzwing, Thundercracker and several others as well. He looked up at Bludgeon, who gave him an approving nod. “I believe we can trust them, Buzzsaw, Buzzsaw. Gigatron and Bludgeon run the show here, and I think they won’t stoop to such trickery, not when they would prefer us to rejoin the fold, fold. If you’d hitch a ride in one of the shuttles coming here, here…”
Shrapnel scowled at Ravage. “Suit yourself, then, then.”
The Insecticon glanced at Kickback and sighed. “Shame we waited until so many died until we stopped fighting, fighting.”
The implication of Bombshell’s death being on their – or, rather, Kickback’s – hands was quite clear in Shrapnel’s intonation.
_______________________________________
“Yeah, of course! Damn right you wouldn’t, Treadshot! We’re too good for you to push around!” Space Case said, not aware of how stupid he sounded.
Hooligan shook his head. Of course, there were times when Space Case’s idiocy was too much for him to handle… he wished Skyjack was around. Skyjack would win the argument with Treadshot. No, wait, Skyjack would tell both of them to shut up. Hooligan snorted. Killjoy.
__________________________________
Blackjack shrugged at Blast Master. “Not next week, probably. Hell, probably not in this lifetime. What’s there to fight over now?”
Blackjack looked up at Wildfly and shook his head. “I mean, really? I was built into the war, but I didn’t realize the prop posters and information videos didn’t tell you about the war. Or did they come into existence after you?”
Slog shook his head. “Aware, are you, that increase in size we do, when we combine into Monstructor? Here, apply, same principle. Scowl, Birdbrain, assist me in explaining this to Wildfly.”
“Oh, shut your hole, Sluggie, and shoot these shells.” Misfire replied as he followed Triggerhappy, charging forwards. He did not tackle the shells, however, and instead emptied round after round at the shell that Triggerhappy wasn’t holding down. At that range, hopefully he wouldn’t miss… and, well, hopefully, he would hit something critical.
Adrenaline was pumping through him. He could do this, he could do this.
He’ll make Spinister and the others proud.
_______________________________________
Springer watched as the fight went on. Clearly the Matrix… whatever it- they- were, had rejected Thunderwing. So Cyclonus was the Decepticons’ version of Rodimus Prime? Eh, he did seem different… carried himself differently…
Ultra Magnus always said Cyclonus was a worthy opponent if he could get himself out of Galvatron’s shadow…
Seems like it’s true.
Damn it, if the bunny-eared goon could be so good, what excuse, does he have, then, for lying here broken and bleeding to death?
Energon levels at 16%
Springer’s blue optics shone again, shone brighter through one exposed, dangling eyeball and his other eye, the one still covered with the protective glass, albeit cracked.
Prime… Cyclonus… kill Thunderwing. Please.
Cyclonus had the upper hand, Thunderwing was flipping out… but he escaped. “NO!” Springer managed to blurt out, but thankfully Optimus was already on the case, shooting outwards, chasing Thunderwing.
Oh, this never ends. He needed a medic. Not to stop himself from dying, but to get himself back in the fight…
_______________________________________
Battlefield
Stranglehold turned to face Octopunch. “Well, now what do we do? Who do we shoot? Look, look, there is Thundercracker. He’s Megatron’s buddy. We shoot him, right?”
Stranglehold pointed at the blue Seeker flying alone, taking out some remaining Imperial forces some distance away from them.
_______________________________________
Southwest Border
Sitting on a chunk of rubble, absent-mindedly twirling his greatsword with the blade pointed towards the ground, Drift watched as Guzzle fired off a round out of frustration at the corpse of the dead titan. He shook his head. He would comfort the other Autobot, but he feared it would sound hollow, or, worse, sound like he was rubbing salt onto the wound.
After all, had he not killed some of Guzzle’s comrades in the past as well?
Had he not killed comrades of the other Autobots here?
No, he will not make a scene out of it, but neither could he forget the fact that his hands are, in fact, stained with blood. Autobot, Decepticon, Quintesson, Imperial… Drift watched the dead Autobots carted away, the dead Imperial trampled underfoot… and shook his head. Wherever he went, there was death. No, wherever the Transformers went, there was death. Was that the fate that would befell their entire race?
_______________________________________
“In case the Imperials… don’t know about you, Skydive, but I don’t see any Imperials around.” Broadside pulled out his gun and fired a shot angled towards the back without even looking. An Imperial sniper dropped from on top of a rubble piece. “Other than these stragglers, anyway. Yeah, you’ve got a point. Wreckers, you heard the air boss. Split up, take down the remaining stragglers.”
_______________________________________
Hoist's Shuttle
“Yeah. Thanks, Hoist.” Searchlight replied mutely, watching Freeway’s body forlornly. “Did… did any of the other Throttlebots…” Searchlight’s voice trailed off, but it was clear what his question was.
_______________________________________
Windcharger did not show any annoyance at Shockwave’s lack of reaction to his tone. Better for them to work silently and curtly...
After all, the bloody talking calculator wasn’t that much more alive than a Metrodrone.
Windcharger raised his hands, and both his eyes and hands glowed purple as he extended his magnetic powers towards the stasis pod Shockwave has disconnected, and it began to levitate out of the room. “Fine.” With the stasis pod in tow, Windcharger walked out of the office, and gave Hoist and Searchlight a wave. “Be back soon. Hopefully.”
_______________________________________
Constructicon Hospital
Brawl jerked a thumb towards the outside of the hospital. “Grimstone joined up with us a couple weeks back. He’s still alive. Road Hugger took him alongside the other battle-ready guys to take out the remaining Imperials and getting the wounded here.”
“I’m here, Snarl.” Grimstone’s voice came through the commlink. “Killing Imps. How you doing? How’re the others doing?”
_______________________________________
“Eh, we’ve been buddying up with Gig’s medics for, like, two days now. You think we’re that stupid, bugboy?” Mixmaster replied to Shrapnel as he continued to mix chemicals flamboyantly, as if he was at a bar making cocktails. “We hate the Imps more than we hate Gig’s bunch.”
_______________________________________
“A real doctor would realize when an additional set of hands is necessary for the success of an operation, and I am afraid Long Haul’s is insufficient.” Hook replied to Scrapper.
“Hey!” Long Haul said in protest. “Keep the insult lobbing session between the two of you!”
Hook let out a noise that was halfway between a grunt and a chuckle as he continued to work on Bonecrusher’s core systems. “Transformation Cog’s mercifully intact.” Hook muttered to himself, as he often did when doing an operation. “Fuel Pump transplant underway. Spark casing slightly dented. Next on priority. Long Haul, get me a replacement from one of the Combaticon xeroxes. Parts of the nervous systems are fried as well.”
Hook smiled. Morbid as it was, he loved a challenge.
_______________________________________
Tinker shrugged, “You don’t know how it was when the Decepticons were short-staffed. Megatron sent anyone with the slightest mental problem to Bombshell or Venom, and, really, it’s a good thing any of them came out capable of coherent speech at all.”
The Seeker sighed as he came across the bodies of the Kaonite Seekers. One was melted, the other had been blown up… Tinker shook his head and began cutting up the salvageable parts.
Moonjet and Darkjet returned from their patrol, transforming and landing and approaching Tinker and Shuttle Gunner. “Moonjet, is it? That replacement arm doesn’t suit you. I’ll replace it with a Seeker arm, like, right now.”
_______________________________________
Hate Plague Danger Zone
“Maybe.” Blast Off replied. “And he’s got two components as well. I’d shoot another dart onto him but I don’t have any.”
_______________________________________
Galaxy Shuttle
“Then be happy, Ramjet, Ramjet.” Shrapnel replied to the Conehead. “Starscream died.”
The Insecticon straight-up ignored Rage’s rude reply, but received affirmatives from Buzzsaw, Mixmaster, Blitzwing, Thundercracker and several others as well. He looked up at Bludgeon, who gave him an approving nod. “I believe we can trust them, Buzzsaw, Buzzsaw. Gigatron and Bludgeon run the show here, and I think they won’t stoop to such trickery, not when they would prefer us to rejoin the fold, fold. If you’d hitch a ride in one of the shuttles coming here, here…”
Shrapnel scowled at Ravage. “Suit yourself, then, then.”
The Insecticon glanced at Kickback and sighed. “Shame we waited until so many died until we stopped fighting, fighting.”
The implication of Bombshell’s death being on their – or, rather, Kickback’s – hands was quite clear in Shrapnel’s intonation.
_______________________________________
“Yeah, of course! Damn right you wouldn’t, Treadshot! We’re too good for you to push around!” Space Case said, not aware of how stupid he sounded.
Hooligan shook his head. Of course, there were times when Space Case’s idiocy was too much for him to handle… he wished Skyjack was around. Skyjack would win the argument with Treadshot. No, wait, Skyjack would tell both of them to shut up. Hooligan snorted. Killjoy.
__________________________________
Blackjack shrugged at Blast Master. “Not next week, probably. Hell, probably not in this lifetime. What’s there to fight over now?”
Blackjack looked up at Wildfly and shook his head. “I mean, really? I was built into the war, but I didn’t realize the prop posters and information videos didn’t tell you about the war. Or did they come into existence after you?”
Slog shook his head. “Aware, are you, that increase in size we do, when we combine into Monstructor? Here, apply, same principle. Scowl, Birdbrain, assist me in explaining this to Wildfly.”
-
optimusskids
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Galaxy Shuttle
"Great explanation, Scowl provided. Granted, over your head all these words do fly." Slog sighed. "Wasted on you, Wildfly, scientific explanations are. Grow and shrink, these Micromasters are able to."
Slog turned to Scowl, and shook his head, "The reason our team had Wildfly included, remind me."
"Great explanation, Scowl provided. Granted, over your head all these words do fly." Slog sighed. "Wasted on you, Wildfly, scientific explanations are. Grow and shrink, these Micromasters are able to."
Slog turned to Scowl, and shook his head, "The reason our team had Wildfly included, remind me."
Constructicon Hospital
"I'm glad you're still kicking, kid." In spite of himself, Snarl smiled when he heard Grimstone's voice. "Slag's dead. Swoop's dead. No one seems to know what's happened to Grimlock. Sludge and I are okay. Not sure about the rest of you second-stringers...Striker, Triceradon, Hacksaw, Crush or the rest. You seen 'em?"
_______________________________________
"Long Haul is a perfectly viable assistant," Scrapper told Hook. "Or at least he is when he's working with a surgeon who's capable of giving direction to someone without starting a fight."
Scrapper worked for another minute or two, then stepped back. "His fuel lines are repaired," he said, as if the work he'd done in such a short amount of time was perfectly normal.
_______________________________________
Shuttle Gunner frowned. "This Megatron sounds like a poor leader," he said at last to Tinker. "I'm glad I never met him."
_______________________________________
"Very well," Ultra Magnus responded to Prowl. "I'll drop off Jackpot at the medical facility, then head over to meet you."
Coming to a stop outside the Constructicons' facility (he could tell it was theirs because somehow they'd had the time to paint it green and purple), Magnus carried Jackpot inside in his arms, looking around for a medic or orderly to hand him off to.
_______________________________________
"I don't either," Fireflight told Blast Off as he set Target Hawk down outside the hospital. "I'm sure he's fine, though. I mean, he's all shiny and white now, not a spot of red to be seen anywhere."
_______________________________________
Battlefield
"Yeah, I get that," Skydive told Broadside. "But I'm not going to take things for granted. You never know what the enemy has up his sleeve, so until Thunderwing is either dead or captured we're not letting our guard down."
_______________________________________
"Huh," Ramjet said thoughtfully. "I'm not sure how I feel 'bout that. I mean, yay, obviously. Always sorta wanted to wax the idiot myself, though."
_______________________________________
"What? No!" Octopunch locked down their ship's controls before heading outside. "Shoot people with yellow badg--" The Pretender sighed. "You know what? Forget that. Don't shoot anything unless I tell you to or I shoot it first, okay?"
His Pretender shell phased in, trident in hand, and he walked out onto the battlefield with Stranglehold presumably in tow. He was surprised, however, not to see anything in need of shooting.
"Dammit, those fraggers went out and won the battle without us!"
_______________________________________
"Right," Sandstorm said. "No rest for the weary, right?"
He climbed out of the ruined apartment he'd landed in, sandblaster in hand and looking for Imperials.
_______________________________________
The Lunatic Fringe
"What the bloody hell?" Thunderwing was caught completely unawares as Prime's Apex Armour slammed into his side, and the would-be overlord was sent flying into the crushed remains of a desk. He lay there for a moment, dazed and unseeing.
Cyclonus, meanwhile, pushed himself up to his feet using his good knee and started to walk slowly toward the fallen Transformer.
"Enough of this!"
He fired several quick shots from his oxidizing laser, fusing desk to floor to Transformer with a rough growth of corrosion.
"I doubt I'm thinking objectively, Optimus, but I'm having a hard time thinking of any reasons why I shouldn't simply kill him and be done with it."
_______________________________________
"Ow!" Triggerhappy screamed. "Slugslinger, watch where you're shooting!"
"You meant to say 'Misfire'," Slugslinger corrected him.
"Pretty sure I didn't," Triggerhappy said, prying bullets out of his armour as he got off the ground.
The Targetmaster armed himself again and took aim...but the shells had stopped moving, lying immobile on the ground as their master struggled to maintain consciousness.
"Uh...did we win?"
_______________________________________
The energy field holding Springer collapsed as Thunderwing's concentration was broken. Perhaps surprisingly, the Wrecker would find his old Mayhem Attack Squad foe Spinister rushing to his side.
"Foolish Autobot," Spinister hissed. "Unless you want to die, you need to go into stasis lock!"
_______________________________________
Galaxy Shuttle
"Whatever," Treadshot said, walking away from the Cyberjets. "I'm sure have something better to do."
__________________________________
"What's there ever been to fight over?" Blast Master asked Blackjack. "Someone's always found an excuse before."
__________________________________
Wildfly gave Blackjack a funny look. "I was just happy to get the chance to hit people and not get yelled at for it. What do I care who they are?"
He just stared blankly as Slog and Scowl tried to explain mass-shifting, as if the other Decepticon was speaking a different language.
"Don't waste your breath," Birdbrain told them. "Even if you can make him understand, he'll forget all about it as soon as he sees something shiny."
__________________________________
Kickback gave Shrapnel a venomous look. "If you're trying to make me feel bad, you can forget about it. Bombshell needed killing and we both know it. The only thing I regret is that I didn't do it earlier -- like the first time he betrayed us and tried to cerebro-shell an ally."
__________________________________
Decepticon Space Station
Buzzsaw responded negatively to Shrapnel. "I'm afraid that's a no. I've got a station full of expat Imperials here that need watching and no one else to give the job to. We'll see you on the other side."
"I'm glad you're still kicking, kid." In spite of himself, Snarl smiled when he heard Grimstone's voice. "Slag's dead. Swoop's dead. No one seems to know what's happened to Grimlock. Sludge and I are okay. Not sure about the rest of you second-stringers...Striker, Triceradon, Hacksaw, Crush or the rest. You seen 'em?"
_______________________________________
"Long Haul is a perfectly viable assistant," Scrapper told Hook. "Or at least he is when he's working with a surgeon who's capable of giving direction to someone without starting a fight."
Scrapper worked for another minute or two, then stepped back. "His fuel lines are repaired," he said, as if the work he'd done in such a short amount of time was perfectly normal.
_______________________________________
Shuttle Gunner frowned. "This Megatron sounds like a poor leader," he said at last to Tinker. "I'm glad I never met him."
_______________________________________
"Very well," Ultra Magnus responded to Prowl. "I'll drop off Jackpot at the medical facility, then head over to meet you."
Coming to a stop outside the Constructicons' facility (he could tell it was theirs because somehow they'd had the time to paint it green and purple), Magnus carried Jackpot inside in his arms, looking around for a medic or orderly to hand him off to.
_______________________________________
"I don't either," Fireflight told Blast Off as he set Target Hawk down outside the hospital. "I'm sure he's fine, though. I mean, he's all shiny and white now, not a spot of red to be seen anywhere."
_______________________________________
Battlefield
"Yeah, I get that," Skydive told Broadside. "But I'm not going to take things for granted. You never know what the enemy has up his sleeve, so until Thunderwing is either dead or captured we're not letting our guard down."
_______________________________________
"Huh," Ramjet said thoughtfully. "I'm not sure how I feel 'bout that. I mean, yay, obviously. Always sorta wanted to wax the idiot myself, though."
_______________________________________
"What? No!" Octopunch locked down their ship's controls before heading outside. "Shoot people with yellow badg--" The Pretender sighed. "You know what? Forget that. Don't shoot anything unless I tell you to or I shoot it first, okay?"
His Pretender shell phased in, trident in hand, and he walked out onto the battlefield with Stranglehold presumably in tow. He was surprised, however, not to see anything in need of shooting.
"Dammit, those fraggers went out and won the battle without us!"
_______________________________________
"Right," Sandstorm said. "No rest for the weary, right?"
He climbed out of the ruined apartment he'd landed in, sandblaster in hand and looking for Imperials.
_______________________________________
The Lunatic Fringe
"What the bloody hell?" Thunderwing was caught completely unawares as Prime's Apex Armour slammed into his side, and the would-be overlord was sent flying into the crushed remains of a desk. He lay there for a moment, dazed and unseeing.
Cyclonus, meanwhile, pushed himself up to his feet using his good knee and started to walk slowly toward the fallen Transformer.
"Enough of this!"
He fired several quick shots from his oxidizing laser, fusing desk to floor to Transformer with a rough growth of corrosion.
"I doubt I'm thinking objectively, Optimus, but I'm having a hard time thinking of any reasons why I shouldn't simply kill him and be done with it."
_______________________________________
"Ow!" Triggerhappy screamed. "Slugslinger, watch where you're shooting!"
"You meant to say 'Misfire'," Slugslinger corrected him.
"Pretty sure I didn't," Triggerhappy said, prying bullets out of his armour as he got off the ground.
The Targetmaster armed himself again and took aim...but the shells had stopped moving, lying immobile on the ground as their master struggled to maintain consciousness.
"Uh...did we win?"
_______________________________________
The energy field holding Springer collapsed as Thunderwing's concentration was broken. Perhaps surprisingly, the Wrecker would find his old Mayhem Attack Squad foe Spinister rushing to his side.
"Foolish Autobot," Spinister hissed. "Unless you want to die, you need to go into stasis lock!"
_______________________________________
Galaxy Shuttle
"Whatever," Treadshot said, walking away from the Cyberjets. "I'm sure have something better to do."
__________________________________
"What's there ever been to fight over?" Blast Master asked Blackjack. "Someone's always found an excuse before."
__________________________________
Wildfly gave Blackjack a funny look. "I was just happy to get the chance to hit people and not get yelled at for it. What do I care who they are?"
He just stared blankly as Slog and Scowl tried to explain mass-shifting, as if the other Decepticon was speaking a different language.
"Don't waste your breath," Birdbrain told them. "Even if you can make him understand, he'll forget all about it as soon as he sees something shiny."
__________________________________
Kickback gave Shrapnel a venomous look. "If you're trying to make me feel bad, you can forget about it. Bombshell needed killing and we both know it. The only thing I regret is that I didn't do it earlier -- like the first time he betrayed us and tried to cerebro-shell an ally."
__________________________________
Decepticon Space Station
Buzzsaw responded negatively to Shrapnel. "I'm afraid that's a no. I've got a station full of expat Imperials here that need watching and no one else to give the job to. We'll see you on the other side."
Constructicon Hospital
"Oh." Grimstone's voice became stiff when Snarl informed him of Slag and Swoop's death. "Snarl, I'm... well, I... I never thought I'd see any of you five die... I'll... I'll keep an eye out for Grimlock. Thought Striker and Crush was with you guys? I saw Crush when we were all hands down against the big Thunderwings... I was... I was pretty sure I last saw Rapticon and Dinotron get caught up by the Hate Plague, though..."
_______________________________________
Long Haul beamed. A compliment, no matter how backhanded it was, was a compliment nonetheless. Considering the present company, any sort of half-handed compliment was something quite big for the normally surly Constructicon. Encouraged by Scrapper's praise, he continued quickly in soldering the open wounds on Bonecrusher's hands.
Hook shrugged, "I do not start fights, Scrapper. Those are Bonecrusher's specialty. I heal people and inform lesser intellectuals of their pitiful errors." Hook tossed Bonecrusher's now-disconnected fuel pump away, and as the new fuel pump began to do its job, Energon flowed through the pipes Scrapper had just reconnected. "A tie, it seems. Of course, you were doing the easier part."
Hook poked around, and uncovered the spark casing. "Scrapper, the spark casing require the expertise of a proper surgeon. You can remove all the debris from Bonecrusher's chest. Long Haul... hand us parts. Talented as we are, we only have two hands each."
Hook then set to work, moving with unerring speed as he unscrewed the pegs holding the damaged spark case together.
_______________________________________
Tinker chuckled. "He did bring us all together... but deep down, he was a fighter. A warlord. Not much of a leader. Really, Shockwave made a better leader than he was. Everybody else did... well, except Galvatron, that is. Guy's an insane maniac. The only reason he was leader at all is that his cannon can turn people into dust and no one dared challenge him. The rest, though... Scorponok, Ratbat, Gigatron, Bludgeon... hell, even sick ol' Thunderwing during his tenure as leader, they were all far superior than old Megatron was in the old days."
Tinker turned as Ultra Magnus carried the prone Jackpot into the hospital. Mixmaster looked up from his work, saw Magnus, and looked down again, busying himself with the cure. Tinker, however, was more civil. "Here, Ultra Magnus, allow me. Doctor Hook, Doctor Scrapper, I'll stabilize this Autobot now, shall I?"
Steamhammer hopped down from the crate he was sitting on and joined Tinker. The wounded Combaticon walked up to Ultra Magnus, and gently took Jackpot and laid him on a gurney. Tinker began to work, hooking Jackpot to an Energon IV drip and began to perform standard stabilizing procedures.
_______________________________________
"Shuttle Gunner!" Darkjet called from the corner where he was leaning against the wall with Moonjet, who was sporting a brand-new Seeker arm courtesy of Tinker. "Shuttle Gunner, your friend is here now."
_______________________________________
Battlefield
"True." Broadside replied Skydive as he clicked in a fresh clip into his plasma rifle, and began to walk purposefully (albeit lurching a little) towards the perimeter. "How're you holding up, air boss?"
Drift mimicked the Wreckers, getting up, holding his Greatsword in a defensive position and began to stalk the battlefield.
_______________________________________
Thundercracker sighed as he flew through the air. He had left Ramjet and the others when they began to engage the enemy snubfighters. Thundercracker had chosen to take on more worthy opponents, and had flown alongside the Autobots to battle the massive titans that transformed out of transport ships.
They were able to fly, and had been worthy opponents... but they were down, and Thundercracker was bored.
Why all this war, after all? Megatron was dead, the Decepticon cause was dead...
Thundercracker wondered why he still wore the Decepticon badge at all. He supposed after four million years of being part of the gang who ruled the skies, he felt a sense of loyalty, even after Megatron's dead.
Although probably the only reason he was still around was that two of the few people he could call his friends -- Ramjet and Thrust -- were still around. Of course, Dirge was with the Autobots, and Skywarp's kind of dead... Thundercracker sighed. He missed the olden days.
He was flying now, at least, not shooting off any sonic booms or the like. The battle was as good as won. The Autobots weren't fighting with them. Shrapnel had somehow made peace with Gigatron's group, so they're all one big happy family. All they had to do was to take out the big gonzo...
He felt a target lock on him, and instinctively Thundercracker banked in a crazy practiced maneuver to avoid it, before swinging around... and seeing that the shuttle had powered down, and its two inhabitants -- Octopunch and Stranglehold -- were friendlies.
Mayhems, too.
"Arrived a little late, guys." Thundercracker said as he banked in low and transformed into robot mode, landing next to them. "Not much to shoot right now."
"Why not?" Stranglehold asked, voice a little hurt as he trailed Octopunch, dwarfed now that he didn't have a shell. "He's one of Megatron's guys or something, right?"
_______________________________________
The Lunatic Fringe
"The one that grazed your right leg was one of mine, sorry." Misfire told Triggerhappy. "The T-Wing shell has thick armour and it kind of ricocheted away." Misfire frowned as the Thunderwing shells stopped moving.
"Heh. What did you know- we beat Thunderwing!" Misfire pumped his fist into the air, and then aimed his ion rifle at one of the prone Thunderwings' head, resting the barrel against Thunderwing's head crest. "Better be safe than sorry, though. For all we know he could be playing possum."
Misfire pulled the trigger, and again, and again, and again.
_______________________________________
"Spnisssster." Springer half-coughed, half-chuckled. His optics focused on the godawful gaudy colours of his old rival, as he scrabbled for footing -- a moot cause, considering that he seemed to have lost all sensation from the waist down. He did manage to gurgle out a, "Did wwww wwwiinnn?"
_______________________________________
Galaxy Shuttle
"Yeah, you just wait! I'll stuff your gun with cotton candy!" Hooligan yelled.
"How are you going to get cotton candy in Cybertron?" Space Case asked.
"Don't argue with my logic when I'm taunting the other guy!"
__________________________________
Take-Off, not wanting to be associated with the two Cyberjet idiots, hurriedly walked off alongside Treadshot. "How did those two lugnuts even survive?" The young Decepticon asked.
__________________________________
Blackjack shrugged at Blast Master. "Megatron, Starscream, Thunderwing... they want conquest for the sake of conquest. Peace through tyranny and all that... except we already had peace, albeit an uncomfortable one, before all of this... shadow wars and detentes. We all suffer, and we're all forced to throw in our cards with the highest bidder, who are the only ones who want the war..." Blackjack shrugged and waved a hand at Wildfly, "Well, and people like him, anyway."
Slog chuckled at Birdbrain. "Test that theory, shall I?" Slog pointed at Space Case's back. "Wildfly, observe, a giant flaming bird deco, Space Case has, tattooed on his back, atop the checker pattern."
__________________________________
"Do what you must, then, Buzzsaw, Buzzsaw. If you need any help, I think I can convince Bludgeon to spare the Cyberjets or someone, someone." Shrapnel told Buzzsaw, before snapping back to regard Kickback.
"Treacherous or not, Bombshell was our- well, my- friend, friend. A fellow Insecticon. You may consider friend and tool as the same word, and maybe Bombshell's death saved us, maybe he was going to betray us... but you- no, we- killed him all the same, same." Shrapnel replied to Kickback, voice rather calm instead of his usual screeching, screaming accent. "Frankly I don't think our team meant anything to you at all, ever, ever."
"Oh." Grimstone's voice became stiff when Snarl informed him of Slag and Swoop's death. "Snarl, I'm... well, I... I never thought I'd see any of you five die... I'll... I'll keep an eye out for Grimlock. Thought Striker and Crush was with you guys? I saw Crush when we were all hands down against the big Thunderwings... I was... I was pretty sure I last saw Rapticon and Dinotron get caught up by the Hate Plague, though..."
_______________________________________
Long Haul beamed. A compliment, no matter how backhanded it was, was a compliment nonetheless. Considering the present company, any sort of half-handed compliment was something quite big for the normally surly Constructicon. Encouraged by Scrapper's praise, he continued quickly in soldering the open wounds on Bonecrusher's hands.
Hook shrugged, "I do not start fights, Scrapper. Those are Bonecrusher's specialty. I heal people and inform lesser intellectuals of their pitiful errors." Hook tossed Bonecrusher's now-disconnected fuel pump away, and as the new fuel pump began to do its job, Energon flowed through the pipes Scrapper had just reconnected. "A tie, it seems. Of course, you were doing the easier part."
Hook poked around, and uncovered the spark casing. "Scrapper, the spark casing require the expertise of a proper surgeon. You can remove all the debris from Bonecrusher's chest. Long Haul... hand us parts. Talented as we are, we only have two hands each."
Hook then set to work, moving with unerring speed as he unscrewed the pegs holding the damaged spark case together.
_______________________________________
Tinker chuckled. "He did bring us all together... but deep down, he was a fighter. A warlord. Not much of a leader. Really, Shockwave made a better leader than he was. Everybody else did... well, except Galvatron, that is. Guy's an insane maniac. The only reason he was leader at all is that his cannon can turn people into dust and no one dared challenge him. The rest, though... Scorponok, Ratbat, Gigatron, Bludgeon... hell, even sick ol' Thunderwing during his tenure as leader, they were all far superior than old Megatron was in the old days."
Tinker turned as Ultra Magnus carried the prone Jackpot into the hospital. Mixmaster looked up from his work, saw Magnus, and looked down again, busying himself with the cure. Tinker, however, was more civil. "Here, Ultra Magnus, allow me. Doctor Hook, Doctor Scrapper, I'll stabilize this Autobot now, shall I?"
Steamhammer hopped down from the crate he was sitting on and joined Tinker. The wounded Combaticon walked up to Ultra Magnus, and gently took Jackpot and laid him on a gurney. Tinker began to work, hooking Jackpot to an Energon IV drip and began to perform standard stabilizing procedures.
_______________________________________
"Shuttle Gunner!" Darkjet called from the corner where he was leaning against the wall with Moonjet, who was sporting a brand-new Seeker arm courtesy of Tinker. "Shuttle Gunner, your friend is here now."
_______________________________________
Battlefield
"True." Broadside replied Skydive as he clicked in a fresh clip into his plasma rifle, and began to walk purposefully (albeit lurching a little) towards the perimeter. "How're you holding up, air boss?"
Drift mimicked the Wreckers, getting up, holding his Greatsword in a defensive position and began to stalk the battlefield.
_______________________________________
Thundercracker sighed as he flew through the air. He had left Ramjet and the others when they began to engage the enemy snubfighters. Thundercracker had chosen to take on more worthy opponents, and had flown alongside the Autobots to battle the massive titans that transformed out of transport ships.
They were able to fly, and had been worthy opponents... but they were down, and Thundercracker was bored.
Why all this war, after all? Megatron was dead, the Decepticon cause was dead...
Thundercracker wondered why he still wore the Decepticon badge at all. He supposed after four million years of being part of the gang who ruled the skies, he felt a sense of loyalty, even after Megatron's dead.
Although probably the only reason he was still around was that two of the few people he could call his friends -- Ramjet and Thrust -- were still around. Of course, Dirge was with the Autobots, and Skywarp's kind of dead... Thundercracker sighed. He missed the olden days.
He was flying now, at least, not shooting off any sonic booms or the like. The battle was as good as won. The Autobots weren't fighting with them. Shrapnel had somehow made peace with Gigatron's group, so they're all one big happy family. All they had to do was to take out the big gonzo...
He felt a target lock on him, and instinctively Thundercracker banked in a crazy practiced maneuver to avoid it, before swinging around... and seeing that the shuttle had powered down, and its two inhabitants -- Octopunch and Stranglehold -- were friendlies.
Mayhems, too.
"Arrived a little late, guys." Thundercracker said as he banked in low and transformed into robot mode, landing next to them. "Not much to shoot right now."
"Why not?" Stranglehold asked, voice a little hurt as he trailed Octopunch, dwarfed now that he didn't have a shell. "He's one of Megatron's guys or something, right?"
_______________________________________
The Lunatic Fringe
"The one that grazed your right leg was one of mine, sorry." Misfire told Triggerhappy. "The T-Wing shell has thick armour and it kind of ricocheted away." Misfire frowned as the Thunderwing shells stopped moving.
"Heh. What did you know- we beat Thunderwing!" Misfire pumped his fist into the air, and then aimed his ion rifle at one of the prone Thunderwings' head, resting the barrel against Thunderwing's head crest. "Better be safe than sorry, though. For all we know he could be playing possum."
Misfire pulled the trigger, and again, and again, and again.
_______________________________________
"Spnisssster." Springer half-coughed, half-chuckled. His optics focused on the godawful gaudy colours of his old rival, as he scrabbled for footing -- a moot cause, considering that he seemed to have lost all sensation from the waist down. He did manage to gurgle out a, "Did wwww wwwiinnn?"
_______________________________________
Galaxy Shuttle
"Yeah, you just wait! I'll stuff your gun with cotton candy!" Hooligan yelled.
"How are you going to get cotton candy in Cybertron?" Space Case asked.
"Don't argue with my logic when I'm taunting the other guy!"
__________________________________
Take-Off, not wanting to be associated with the two Cyberjet idiots, hurriedly walked off alongside Treadshot. "How did those two lugnuts even survive?" The young Decepticon asked.
__________________________________
Blackjack shrugged at Blast Master. "Megatron, Starscream, Thunderwing... they want conquest for the sake of conquest. Peace through tyranny and all that... except we already had peace, albeit an uncomfortable one, before all of this... shadow wars and detentes. We all suffer, and we're all forced to throw in our cards with the highest bidder, who are the only ones who want the war..." Blackjack shrugged and waved a hand at Wildfly, "Well, and people like him, anyway."
Slog chuckled at Birdbrain. "Test that theory, shall I?" Slog pointed at Space Case's back. "Wildfly, observe, a giant flaming bird deco, Space Case has, tattooed on his back, atop the checker pattern."
__________________________________
"Do what you must, then, Buzzsaw, Buzzsaw. If you need any help, I think I can convince Bludgeon to spare the Cyberjets or someone, someone." Shrapnel told Buzzsaw, before snapping back to regard Kickback.
"Treacherous or not, Bombshell was our- well, my- friend, friend. A fellow Insecticon. You may consider friend and tool as the same word, and maybe Bombshell's death saved us, maybe he was going to betray us... but you- no, we- killed him all the same, same." Shrapnel replied to Kickback, voice rather calm instead of his usual screeching, screaming accent. "Frankly I don't think our team meant anything to you at all, ever, ever."
Constructicon Hospital
"Thanks, kid," Snarl told Grimstone. A sour expression on his face, he said, "Crush was with us, but he went off on his own after he dropped Sludge off at a safe spot to recover. I think Striker might be with Grimlock, wherever that is."
He didn't particularly care about Rapticon or Dinotron, since he'd never even met their particular band of Dinobot-wannabes. There'd always been something about that jerk T-Wrecks that he hadn't liked, though, so he just assumed the whole lot was scum.
At about that moment, Sludge staggered in. Snarl saw him and grinned. "Well, Grimlock'd better be alive," he said both to Sludge and Grimstone. "Can you imagine how much fun things would be with me in charge?"
"Me Sludge no like that idea."
"Exactly."
_______________________________________
"See, that thing you just said? That's you trying to start a fight." Scrapper scowled at Hook. "I'm not Scavenger, and I understand how your mind works. Don't think you can lie to me."
Shrugging, he said, "Well, I would clean out the area...except that I already did so and you were too busy being smug and superior to notice. Get on with it."
_______________________________________
Shuttle Gunner listened to what Tinker had to say with a serious expression on his face, as if he was listening to the pure, unadulterated truth. He quickly turned away, though, when Darkjet pointed out the arrival of Target Hawk.
"Oh. Him." He shrugged fractionally, watching as the other member of Battle Gaia was moved onto a gurney. "We are not friends. Target Hawk has no friends. I suspect he is entirely unfamiliar with the concept. But I'm glad he survived, regardless."
_______________________________________
Ultra Magnus watched for a few moments, visibly scrutinizing the Decepticon medics' handling of his soldier just to make it clear that he'd remember them if anything happened to Jackpot. Then he transformed and left the hospital, heading for Prowl's location.
_______________________________________
Battlefield
"That's an odd question," Skydive told Broadside. "I'm in my element, devising strategy and tactics and watching them crush our enemies. And on top of that, none of my Aerialbots are even injured. Why would I be anything but fine?"
_______________________________________
Ramjet saw Thundercracker flying nearby and accelerated toward the other Seeker, glad to see he'd survived.
"Yo!" he shouted. "Glad to see you still on the wing."
He scanned the area around them, then said, "You, uh, see Dirge around here anywhere? I was kinda hopin' ta run inta him, especially since you completely fragged up our plan to kidn-er-rescue him from the Autobots."
_______________________________________
"Just trust me," Octopunch told Stranglehold impatiently. "The last thing we need is you starting another war. I learned the hard way that shooting the wrong thing can have real bad consequences."
To Thundercracker he said, "Yeah, sorry about that. We were a bit busy blowing up the Warworld. You know how it is."
_______________________________________
The Lunatic Fringe
"Yeah, but the fourteen others were Sluggy's," Triggerhappy assured Misfire, "so don't feel bad about it."
"Oh, what, you're the brainy one now too?" Slugslinger bristled at being told what to do by Misfire of all people, but since the other Transformer was actually suggesting a reasonable course of action he couldn't object. Plus, he liked shooting stuff. Especially stuff that didn't shoot back.
_______________________________________
Spinister cocked his head to one side and gave Springer a disbelieving look. "What kind of question is that? There are Wreckers and Mayhems -- former ones, at any rate -- fighting side by side. Of course we won. How could you think otherwise?"
More seriously, he added, "But really. Stasis lock. Now."
"Yeah!" Needlenose piped in. "If we don't get to kill you, T-Wizzle certainly doesn't."
"Never call him that again," Spinister told his younger partner humourlessly. "You sound like an idiot."
_______________________________________
Galaxy Shuttle
"My gun is a cat, you moron," Treadshot told Hooligan, not bothering to turn around. "He'd eat it. Then you. But feel free to try."
He didn't even respond to Take-Off, not at all interesting in badmouthing two idiots with someone nearly as dumb as they were.
__________________________________
Blast Master shrugged. "We'll see," he told Slog. "Lets just say that if we're not shooting each other this time next year I'll be surprised. Happy, but surprised."
__________________________________
"What? I ain't playing 'I spy' with you, Slog," Wildfly said to the other Monster. "Even though I can, unlike Blindbrain over there. Big flame bird paintjob. So what?"
"Seriously, do you even remember what I did to you an hour ago?" Birdbrain asked, frustrated.
__________________________________
"What team?" Kickback asked Shrapnel, his tone completely serious. "Bombshell was constantly plotting to enslave us, you ran off to stare at monitors and order security drones around and I wound up working counterintel blowing the whistle on people like us the first chance I got. None of us ever valued 'the team' at all, other than as a way to keep Megatron off of our backs."
The Insecticon turned his back, leaning against a guardrail and staring through the hangar's forcefield to the stars (and thickening atmosphere) outside.
"How does a team mean anything to you when you can't trust your 'teammates' to have your back when something goes wrong? You're right about me. Manipulating friendships is a part of my job. It makes it hard for me to have actual friends, but it also makes it really easy to see when someone who tries to call themself my friend is trying to play me. And Shrapnel, I could see from day one that neither you nor Bombshell were anything close to true friends. At least, not until recently."
He stared out at the vista for a few moments, contemplating his next words.
"You and I...we're not the same people we used to be, Shrapnel. We're responsible. Loyal. Dutiful, even. Good Decepticons. Damned if I know how it happened, but somehow we went from lashing out against the establishment to being paid to defend it. But Bombshell didn't change. He was still the same subversive little shit he always was. Ending him was in our job description, but don't act like you think it was easy for me. I wanted him to live. I rescued Bombshell, remember? He was locked up in a cell with no transformation cog and a date with a smelting pool until I drafted him to help me on an operation.
"All it took for you and I to become better Decepticons was for someone to give us a chance. I gave Bombshell that same chance and he threw it back in my face. That was his choice, not mine. He got a stay of execution and he squandered it. He knew what the consequences would be if he got up to his old tricks, but he just couldn't help himself. What happened in the end is entirely, one hundred percent his own fault."
__________________________________
Decepticon Space Station
"I think we're fine," Buzzsaw told Shrapnel. "As long as there's a few grown-ups here to keep an optic on things, no one's going to get out of line. We'll need a lot of passenger space to get them off the station, though, once the fighting is over."
"Thanks, kid," Snarl told Grimstone. A sour expression on his face, he said, "Crush was with us, but he went off on his own after he dropped Sludge off at a safe spot to recover. I think Striker might be with Grimlock, wherever that is."
He didn't particularly care about Rapticon or Dinotron, since he'd never even met their particular band of Dinobot-wannabes. There'd always been something about that jerk T-Wrecks that he hadn't liked, though, so he just assumed the whole lot was scum.
At about that moment, Sludge staggered in. Snarl saw him and grinned. "Well, Grimlock'd better be alive," he said both to Sludge and Grimstone. "Can you imagine how much fun things would be with me in charge?"
"Me Sludge no like that idea."
"Exactly."
_______________________________________
"See, that thing you just said? That's you trying to start a fight." Scrapper scowled at Hook. "I'm not Scavenger, and I understand how your mind works. Don't think you can lie to me."
Shrugging, he said, "Well, I would clean out the area...except that I already did so and you were too busy being smug and superior to notice. Get on with it."
_______________________________________
Shuttle Gunner listened to what Tinker had to say with a serious expression on his face, as if he was listening to the pure, unadulterated truth. He quickly turned away, though, when Darkjet pointed out the arrival of Target Hawk.
"Oh. Him." He shrugged fractionally, watching as the other member of Battle Gaia was moved onto a gurney. "We are not friends. Target Hawk has no friends. I suspect he is entirely unfamiliar with the concept. But I'm glad he survived, regardless."
_______________________________________
Ultra Magnus watched for a few moments, visibly scrutinizing the Decepticon medics' handling of his soldier just to make it clear that he'd remember them if anything happened to Jackpot. Then he transformed and left the hospital, heading for Prowl's location.
_______________________________________
Battlefield
"That's an odd question," Skydive told Broadside. "I'm in my element, devising strategy and tactics and watching them crush our enemies. And on top of that, none of my Aerialbots are even injured. Why would I be anything but fine?"
_______________________________________
Ramjet saw Thundercracker flying nearby and accelerated toward the other Seeker, glad to see he'd survived.
"Yo!" he shouted. "Glad to see you still on the wing."
He scanned the area around them, then said, "You, uh, see Dirge around here anywhere? I was kinda hopin' ta run inta him, especially since you completely fragged up our plan to kidn-er-rescue him from the Autobots."
_______________________________________
"Just trust me," Octopunch told Stranglehold impatiently. "The last thing we need is you starting another war. I learned the hard way that shooting the wrong thing can have real bad consequences."
To Thundercracker he said, "Yeah, sorry about that. We were a bit busy blowing up the Warworld. You know how it is."
_______________________________________
The Lunatic Fringe
"Yeah, but the fourteen others were Sluggy's," Triggerhappy assured Misfire, "so don't feel bad about it."
"Oh, what, you're the brainy one now too?" Slugslinger bristled at being told what to do by Misfire of all people, but since the other Transformer was actually suggesting a reasonable course of action he couldn't object. Plus, he liked shooting stuff. Especially stuff that didn't shoot back.
_______________________________________
Spinister cocked his head to one side and gave Springer a disbelieving look. "What kind of question is that? There are Wreckers and Mayhems -- former ones, at any rate -- fighting side by side. Of course we won. How could you think otherwise?"
More seriously, he added, "But really. Stasis lock. Now."
"Yeah!" Needlenose piped in. "If we don't get to kill you, T-Wizzle certainly doesn't."
"Never call him that again," Spinister told his younger partner humourlessly. "You sound like an idiot."
_______________________________________
Galaxy Shuttle
"My gun is a cat, you moron," Treadshot told Hooligan, not bothering to turn around. "He'd eat it. Then you. But feel free to try."
He didn't even respond to Take-Off, not at all interesting in badmouthing two idiots with someone nearly as dumb as they were.
__________________________________
Blast Master shrugged. "We'll see," he told Slog. "Lets just say that if we're not shooting each other this time next year I'll be surprised. Happy, but surprised."
__________________________________
"What? I ain't playing 'I spy' with you, Slog," Wildfly said to the other Monster. "Even though I can, unlike Blindbrain over there. Big flame bird paintjob. So what?"
"Seriously, do you even remember what I did to you an hour ago?" Birdbrain asked, frustrated.
__________________________________
"What team?" Kickback asked Shrapnel, his tone completely serious. "Bombshell was constantly plotting to enslave us, you ran off to stare at monitors and order security drones around and I wound up working counterintel blowing the whistle on people like us the first chance I got. None of us ever valued 'the team' at all, other than as a way to keep Megatron off of our backs."
The Insecticon turned his back, leaning against a guardrail and staring through the hangar's forcefield to the stars (and thickening atmosphere) outside.
"How does a team mean anything to you when you can't trust your 'teammates' to have your back when something goes wrong? You're right about me. Manipulating friendships is a part of my job. It makes it hard for me to have actual friends, but it also makes it really easy to see when someone who tries to call themself my friend is trying to play me. And Shrapnel, I could see from day one that neither you nor Bombshell were anything close to true friends. At least, not until recently."
He stared out at the vista for a few moments, contemplating his next words.
"You and I...we're not the same people we used to be, Shrapnel. We're responsible. Loyal. Dutiful, even. Good Decepticons. Damned if I know how it happened, but somehow we went from lashing out against the establishment to being paid to defend it. But Bombshell didn't change. He was still the same subversive little shit he always was. Ending him was in our job description, but don't act like you think it was easy for me. I wanted him to live. I rescued Bombshell, remember? He was locked up in a cell with no transformation cog and a date with a smelting pool until I drafted him to help me on an operation.
"All it took for you and I to become better Decepticons was for someone to give us a chance. I gave Bombshell that same chance and he threw it back in my face. That was his choice, not mine. He got a stay of execution and he squandered it. He knew what the consequences would be if he got up to his old tricks, but he just couldn't help himself. What happened in the end is entirely, one hundred percent his own fault."
__________________________________
Decepticon Space Station
"I think we're fine," Buzzsaw told Shrapnel. "As long as there's a few grown-ups here to keep an optic on things, no one's going to get out of line. We'll need a lot of passenger space to get them off the station, though, once the fighting is over."
OOC: Galaxy Shuttle stuff will be in a later post, right now I need sleep
Constructicon Hospital
"Hope they all survived. You still can't raise the big Grim?" Grimstone asked Snarl. "I think I see Terranotron and Airraptor bombing a couple of Imps -- okay, that's definitely them. I can hear Terranotron mouthing off about air superiority. Noisy little parrot."
(There was sounds of shouting in the background, most evident being Road Hugger yelling about collateral damage or something.)
"You? In charge? Fah!" Grimstone snorted. "How you holding up, Sludge?"
Scratching the back of his head, Brawl turned and gave the large Dinobot a half-wave. "Yo." The Combaticon said. "You need repairs? I'm sure one of the medics here can patch you up. Just stay away from Long Haul. He's scum."
_______________________________________
Hook shrugged, unashamed. "That's who I am, brother dear. I was constructed this way, and I cannot help it. I wasn't even trying to lie to you -- I know how your mind works, and I know you won't abandon a surgery -- particularly one with Bonecruhser's life on the line -- midway to throw a spanner at my head."
Hook tossed out the ruined spark chamber casing onto the tray Long Haul was holding. "You could have missed something. You can never be too thorough, unless-"
"Unless we are Hook. We get it." Long Haul said in a monotone tune.
"Et tu, Long Haul? I gave you permission to help out in a life-saving surgery and you gang up on me with Scrapper?" Hook sighed in a mock-wounded manner, even as he soldered the new Spark casing into place. "Oh, I am disappointed! Incidentally, I'm pretty sure the Spark's securely in place, zero point and all that..."
_______________________________________
The unnerving expression on Shuttle Gunner's face disturbed Tinker a little, but he was working with Jackpot, and a glowering Ultra Magnus meant that he had to keep up extra niceties. "Kid's a Nucleon addict." Tinker muttered to Steamhammer. "It helps his recovery systems but it leaves a bloody mess. Some of his systems are all locked up."
_______________________________________
"He's part of your team." Darkjet told Shuttle Gunner as he watched several Decepticon and Combaticons push the gurney with Target Hawk next to the other injured. "Such a hateful person needs someone to be there for him, I suppose, when he wakes up, lest he ends up becoming another Skydive."
"Or Scrash." Moonjet quipped.
"Xal forbid another Scrash is spawned into existence."
_______________________________________
Battlefield
"'Cause that's the answer I wanted to hear." Broadside said, smiling under his cracked faceplate. "You go, Skydive. We're at your disposal if you need us elsewhere."
_______________________________________
Stranglehold tilted his head. "Oh, you're talking about the time when you shot god in the face, yes?" The Pretender said, grinning. "That was a fun battle. I got to fight Jazz, and I got introduced to, uh, someone, I forgot."
Thundercracker chuckled at Octopunch. "You Mayhem Attack Squad, leave us Seeker Elite Guards something to blow up! Honestly, between you guys and the Predacons it's like nothing's left for us Seekers anymore." The Seeker turned around to see Ramjet land.
"Ramjet!" Thundercracker smiled. He saw Thrust earlier. Thundercracker had not taken Skywarp's death well, and, well, he was thankful that the few thugs he would call his friends still survived. "Dirge? Dirge... no. No. And truthfully, I didn't think the plan would work, not with Skywarp... well, dead and all."
There was a surprising amount of bitterness in Thundercracker's voice. He had found Skywarp unbearably annoying, and yet... this was the first time Skywarp had died. Not turned into Cyclonus or an Armada or whatever, but dead. And this time it wasn't a simple bisection by Grimlock. Thundercracker saw Skywarp's twisted mangled corpse, twisted mid-warp... and he knew his... friend will not be returning.
"I just hope Dirge's okay, wherever he is." Thundercracker said, sighing. When did he start to care so much?
_______________________________________
The Lunatic Fringe
Misfire chuckled. "Compared to you, Sluggy? Definitely." Misfire ejected the spent clip and clicked in a fresh one. "Spinster, what do we do now?" The Targetmaster called out for their commander. "We kind of broke these guys."
_______________________________________
"Timm Warrss"
Springer blurted out, chuckling. "Y'wereeeent therrree."
Energon Levels at 13%
"Tweezzleeee funny. R'pairrr. Have t'fiiight. Act'vtinggg stassssss" Springer chuckled, before his optics went dark, and his body went limp. Energon still leaked out of him, but not at the rate it was before... his fuel pump had stopped beating, as the systems locked down for stasis lock.
"Hope they all survived. You still can't raise the big Grim?" Grimstone asked Snarl. "I think I see Terranotron and Airraptor bombing a couple of Imps -- okay, that's definitely them. I can hear Terranotron mouthing off about air superiority. Noisy little parrot."
(There was sounds of shouting in the background, most evident being Road Hugger yelling about collateral damage or something.)
"You? In charge? Fah!" Grimstone snorted. "How you holding up, Sludge?"
Scratching the back of his head, Brawl turned and gave the large Dinobot a half-wave. "Yo." The Combaticon said. "You need repairs? I'm sure one of the medics here can patch you up. Just stay away from Long Haul. He's scum."
_______________________________________
Hook shrugged, unashamed. "That's who I am, brother dear. I was constructed this way, and I cannot help it. I wasn't even trying to lie to you -- I know how your mind works, and I know you won't abandon a surgery -- particularly one with Bonecruhser's life on the line -- midway to throw a spanner at my head."
Hook tossed out the ruined spark chamber casing onto the tray Long Haul was holding. "You could have missed something. You can never be too thorough, unless-"
"Unless we are Hook. We get it." Long Haul said in a monotone tune.
"Et tu, Long Haul? I gave you permission to help out in a life-saving surgery and you gang up on me with Scrapper?" Hook sighed in a mock-wounded manner, even as he soldered the new Spark casing into place. "Oh, I am disappointed! Incidentally, I'm pretty sure the Spark's securely in place, zero point and all that..."
_______________________________________
The unnerving expression on Shuttle Gunner's face disturbed Tinker a little, but he was working with Jackpot, and a glowering Ultra Magnus meant that he had to keep up extra niceties. "Kid's a Nucleon addict." Tinker muttered to Steamhammer. "It helps his recovery systems but it leaves a bloody mess. Some of his systems are all locked up."
_______________________________________
"He's part of your team." Darkjet told Shuttle Gunner as he watched several Decepticon and Combaticons push the gurney with Target Hawk next to the other injured. "Such a hateful person needs someone to be there for him, I suppose, when he wakes up, lest he ends up becoming another Skydive."
"Or Scrash." Moonjet quipped.
"Xal forbid another Scrash is spawned into existence."
_______________________________________
Battlefield
"'Cause that's the answer I wanted to hear." Broadside said, smiling under his cracked faceplate. "You go, Skydive. We're at your disposal if you need us elsewhere."
_______________________________________
Stranglehold tilted his head. "Oh, you're talking about the time when you shot god in the face, yes?" The Pretender said, grinning. "That was a fun battle. I got to fight Jazz, and I got introduced to, uh, someone, I forgot."
Thundercracker chuckled at Octopunch. "You Mayhem Attack Squad, leave us Seeker Elite Guards something to blow up! Honestly, between you guys and the Predacons it's like nothing's left for us Seekers anymore." The Seeker turned around to see Ramjet land.
"Ramjet!" Thundercracker smiled. He saw Thrust earlier. Thundercracker had not taken Skywarp's death well, and, well, he was thankful that the few thugs he would call his friends still survived. "Dirge? Dirge... no. No. And truthfully, I didn't think the plan would work, not with Skywarp... well, dead and all."
There was a surprising amount of bitterness in Thundercracker's voice. He had found Skywarp unbearably annoying, and yet... this was the first time Skywarp had died. Not turned into Cyclonus or an Armada or whatever, but dead. And this time it wasn't a simple bisection by Grimlock. Thundercracker saw Skywarp's twisted mangled corpse, twisted mid-warp... and he knew his... friend will not be returning.
"I just hope Dirge's okay, wherever he is." Thundercracker said, sighing. When did he start to care so much?
_______________________________________
The Lunatic Fringe
Misfire chuckled. "Compared to you, Sluggy? Definitely." Misfire ejected the spent clip and clicked in a fresh one. "Spinster, what do we do now?" The Targetmaster called out for their commander. "We kind of broke these guys."
_______________________________________
"Timm Warrss"
Springer blurted out, chuckling. "Y'wereeeent therrree."
Energon Levels at 13%
"Tweezzleeee funny. R'pairrr. Have t'fiiight. Act'vtinggg stassssss" Springer chuckled, before his optics went dark, and his body went limp. Energon still leaked out of him, but not at the rate it was before... his fuel pump had stopped beating, as the systems locked down for stasis lock.
OOC: Sleep is overrated. Glahbrhlabrhlabrghlabrhalgag
Galaxy Shuttle
"I'll try it, thanks for the warning!" Hooligan called out, before turning to Space Case. "That Take-Off is a suck-up, isn't he?"
"Yep."
"So... do you think he's bluffing, or should I prepare some catnip or something?"
__________________________________
"Indeed, I, as well. Make non-Slogism art, non-war-related art, finally I actually can, maybe." Slog told Blast Master.
Slog turned to Birdbrain, ignoring Wildfly, "Shinier object, we might need to find. A pity, on Protihex, Spinister is. Eyesore, his paintjob is. Colours used, I don't mind, very excellent usage, if not appreciated by everyone. Layout, however, irks me to no end." Slog shook his head. "Stuff him in your shell again, you should. More peaceful, my life was."
Slog turned to Wildfly and gave him a withering look. "Give aspirin a headache, you would."
__________________________________
"That could be arranged, arranged. Got to go, go." Shrapnel replied to Buzzsaw, before clicking off the communicator and turning back to Kickback, and met Kickback's serious glare with one of his own.
"I had thought the three of us worked quite well on Polyhex, on Bali, as a fringe faction, as proper members of the Decepticon cause... four million years we lived together as a team, Kickback, Kickback. Tell me you never trusted me or Bombshell during that time, time?" Shrapnel shook his head. "Don't try to pin my little security detail as abandoning the team, team. I may not be as much a plotter as the two of you, but that was only because I was gang-pressed into the job by Soundwave, Soundwave... and I happen to be apparently good for it, it."
Shrapnel shook his head. "For all it's worth, despite you being you and Bombshell being Bombshell, I trust you- both of you, you. Guess I'm an idiot, idiot."
The Insecticon scooped Needler up and petted the little scarab beetle. "Bombshell saw the same manipulator in you that you saw in him, Kickback, but he stuck around nevertheless, and so did you, you. I may be denser than the two of you, but I never had it in mind to backstab either you or Bombshell, the one time he took over our mind aside, aside."
Shrapnel shook his head. "But did we really give him a chance? I saw him, he was lost while we were being good Decepticons, he found himself with Bomb-Burst and a Horrorcon, Horrorcon. We did not really gave him a chance so much as stuck a bomb in his head and told him to do as he is told, told. Do you think you won't bear any sort of resentment if the same was done to you, you? Don't you think Bombshell was entitled to a few angry rants, rants?"
"And back on the Warworld -- consciously or not -- you... no, both of us, we goaded Bombshell along, along. He was happy, playing along with us, until we needed to get out and you happened to stir up an argument, and he pointed his cannon at you, and you pressed the button, button." Shrapnel shook his head. "Bombshell was an idiot and he was wrong, but both of us are as guilty as he is in causing his death, death."
Shrapnel plopped down on a nearby crate, still petting Needler. "That's all I have to say, say. Where do we go from here, here?"
__________________________________
Barrage watched Shrapnel and Kickback argue, and although he could not hear them, he could guess what they were arguing about. He was not part of their happy Insecticon family, but Barrage thought it was necessary to listen in. He was an Insecticon, after all, if from a different group... and theirs was splintered as well. Venom was around, sometimes, but wrapped up in paranoia. Chop Shop was a Combaticon now, and Xal knows if Ransack had gotten himself killed.
And who knew where Dirge, Buzzclaw, Retrax and the rest had gotten off to?
Blackjack saw the argument as well, and pretended not to notice, and instead focused his attention at Slog and Blast Master. Was the Sports Car Patrol doomed to such a fate as well? Were Road Hugger, Detour and Hyperdrive still alive? Would they blame each other for the deaths?
"I'll try it, thanks for the warning!" Hooligan called out, before turning to Space Case. "That Take-Off is a suck-up, isn't he?"
"Yep."
"So... do you think he's bluffing, or should I prepare some catnip or something?"
__________________________________
"Indeed, I, as well. Make non-Slogism art, non-war-related art, finally I actually can, maybe." Slog told Blast Master.
Slog turned to Birdbrain, ignoring Wildfly, "Shinier object, we might need to find. A pity, on Protihex, Spinister is. Eyesore, his paintjob is. Colours used, I don't mind, very excellent usage, if not appreciated by everyone. Layout, however, irks me to no end." Slog shook his head. "Stuff him in your shell again, you should. More peaceful, my life was."
Slog turned to Wildfly and gave him a withering look. "Give aspirin a headache, you would."
__________________________________
"That could be arranged, arranged. Got to go, go." Shrapnel replied to Buzzsaw, before clicking off the communicator and turning back to Kickback, and met Kickback's serious glare with one of his own.
"I had thought the three of us worked quite well on Polyhex, on Bali, as a fringe faction, as proper members of the Decepticon cause... four million years we lived together as a team, Kickback, Kickback. Tell me you never trusted me or Bombshell during that time, time?" Shrapnel shook his head. "Don't try to pin my little security detail as abandoning the team, team. I may not be as much a plotter as the two of you, but that was only because I was gang-pressed into the job by Soundwave, Soundwave... and I happen to be apparently good for it, it."
Shrapnel shook his head. "For all it's worth, despite you being you and Bombshell being Bombshell, I trust you- both of you, you. Guess I'm an idiot, idiot."
The Insecticon scooped Needler up and petted the little scarab beetle. "Bombshell saw the same manipulator in you that you saw in him, Kickback, but he stuck around nevertheless, and so did you, you. I may be denser than the two of you, but I never had it in mind to backstab either you or Bombshell, the one time he took over our mind aside, aside."
Shrapnel shook his head. "But did we really give him a chance? I saw him, he was lost while we were being good Decepticons, he found himself with Bomb-Burst and a Horrorcon, Horrorcon. We did not really gave him a chance so much as stuck a bomb in his head and told him to do as he is told, told. Do you think you won't bear any sort of resentment if the same was done to you, you? Don't you think Bombshell was entitled to a few angry rants, rants?"
"And back on the Warworld -- consciously or not -- you... no, both of us, we goaded Bombshell along, along. He was happy, playing along with us, until we needed to get out and you happened to stir up an argument, and he pointed his cannon at you, and you pressed the button, button." Shrapnel shook his head. "Bombshell was an idiot and he was wrong, but both of us are as guilty as he is in causing his death, death."
Shrapnel plopped down on a nearby crate, still petting Needler. "That's all I have to say, say. Where do we go from here, here?"
__________________________________
Barrage watched Shrapnel and Kickback argue, and although he could not hear them, he could guess what they were arguing about. He was not part of their happy Insecticon family, but Barrage thought it was necessary to listen in. He was an Insecticon, after all, if from a different group... and theirs was splintered as well. Venom was around, sometimes, but wrapped up in paranoia. Chop Shop was a Combaticon now, and Xal knows if Ransack had gotten himself killed.
And who knew where Dirge, Buzzclaw, Retrax and the rest had gotten off to?
Blackjack saw the argument as well, and pretended not to notice, and instead focused his attention at Slog and Blast Master. Was the Sports Car Patrol doomed to such a fate as well? Were Road Hugger, Detour and Hyperdrive still alive? Would they blame each other for the deaths?
The Lunatic Fringe
"The non-partisan agreement between the three factions would agree with you, Cyclonus," answered Optimus Prime.
The Autobot Leader retrieved his ion rifle, stowed away in his back compartment, and straightened it out to its full length. He readjusted its setting with a quick twist of the barrel.
"If spared, he would no doubt return." Prime glanced over at Thunderwing. "We would go through the usual motions, thousands more would be lost and, ultimately, we would arrive precisely where we are now."
The Matrix-bearer looked back to Cyclonus. "Nevertheless -- you and I both know so long as Thunderwing is in possession of his Matrix, he cannot be so easily 'killed'."
Gun in hand, he approached the Pretender, now fused between a desk and the lobby floor by the Decepticon Targetmaster's oxidizing laser.
Optimus stopped a pace from Thunderwing's side and glowered down at him. He abhorred the notion of killing a clearly humbled opponent -- it wasn't the Autobot way -- but, Prime couldn't disregard the stellar cycles of devastation that the Liege Centuro had caused. Given the chance, he would certainly return, perhaps more powerful than before.
What other choice do I have?
Optimus raised his ion rifle and held it directly above the Pretender's forehead. His finger eased down on the trigger. "The shear monotony of it all," he told Thunderwing. "This vicious circle must end."
But he did not fire.
Instead, Prime cocked his free arm back and, with great force, drove his fist down at the Imperial's chest. The Autobot Leader would prize Thunderwing of his coveted Matrix first.
__________________
Hoist's Shuttle
Hoist stopped welding for a moment while he considered Searchlight's question. "Chase, Rollbar and Wideload, you mean?" he replied, continuing with the Throttlebot's repairs. "No, I haven't seen them. I don't even think they were stationed here in Protihex. Did they come with you?"
---
Constructicon Field Hospital
Shockwave soon returned to the encampment, lugging two empty stasis pods over his shoulders.
The former-Decepticon moved his way down an aisle of patients, mindful of the Constructicons toiling about, and placed the vessels carefully down onto a unoccupied slab.
"When you are finished bickering among yourself," he then told Hook, "Your assistance..."
____________________
Northern Border, Galaxy Shuttle
(OOC: Goes without saying since you guys are already on it, but...continued from the Crystal City thread.)
Having successfully vanquished the Imperial forces in Crystal City and laying waste to the Warworld, the Autobot and Decepticon forces on board Galaxy Shuttle arrived as victors.
Because the Gigatron-allied territory neighbored Protihex, it was a brief trek. The massive Autobot starship slowly sailed over the northern border, along with a small entourage of flightmechs.
Still keeping vigil was Prowl's perimeter guard, now distinguishable from Galaxy Shuttle's position. The smoke and ruin at Protihex's center was also plainly visible, where an ominous red haze hung overhead.
On the bridge, Decibel sat hunched over a communications terminal, looking over the array and the steadily approaching city-state on the viewscreen.
"Trion to Galaxy Shuttle," Dai Atlas' voice hailed from the console's speaker. "Please respond."
"Decibel here," the communications officer replied.
He pressed a switch at his station, then spun his seat toward the main monitor, where Dai Atlas waited.
"Nice of you to join us."
"Better late than never, I suppose," said Decibel. "Mission accomplished in Crystal City, at any rate. We're here to offer our assistance." He glanced over to the smaller monitor at his station. "I see you've set up a perimeter. What's happening in there?"
"That would be Prowl's doing," Dai Atlas told him. "Our goal has been to contain and neutralize. We've been successful so far; the tide has shifted in our favor. Imperial numbers have diminished considerably and their outposts have all but been wiped out. I'll transmit you a more detailed report to pass along."
"And the red cloud?" the communications officer inquired. "It's setting off all sorts of alerts over here."
"That would be the synthetic 'hate plague' that the Imperials dispersed over the Steelhaven's former landing site," said the Trion captain. "Protihex has effectively been quarantined - also Prowl's doing. Induced precipitation has prevented it from spreading and, from what I understand, a retrovirus has already been developed by the Decepticons, but it's a no-go zone--
"You are not to fly over the city-state center," Dai Atlas firmly added. "Those are the General's orders. Be sure to notify your commanding officer."
"I'll be sure to let him know."
---
Hangar Bay
Tensions had died down in Galaxy Shuttle's lower level with the recent boarding of Megatron-allied soldiers. Bludgeon, who had assumed command of Gigatron's forces in Crystal City, had managed to calm internal dissension between the feuding Decepticon factions.
Meanwhile, the Autobots, made bystanders in their own ship, minded to their own business and milled about the hangar, loitering about or readying their shuttles for departure.
"So, uh...what's the word, boss?" Over-Run inquired, impatiently.
Sky Lynx, who at that moment was receiving Decibel's report from the bridge, shot the red Autobot a withering look. "Over-Run, please," the dinoblast chided. "I am speaking with Decibel -- Please continue."
".....is a no-go zone," said the communications officer. "Prowl's orders. We're to bank down with the perimeter guard at the northern border."
"Understood. Thank you, Decibel."
The Lieutenant Commander switched off his comlink and brought his visor down toward Bludgeon. "Splendid news, my comrade," he said. "We have arrived at our destination and all goes well for our allied forces--
"I have, however, also been informed," he added, forebodingly, "that we are not to approach the city-state center. Thunderwing, somehow, has conjured up a new strain of the Hate Plague virus."
Upon overhearing this news, many of the Autobots assembled in the hangar began to murmur among themselves...
"The non-partisan agreement between the three factions would agree with you, Cyclonus," answered Optimus Prime.
The Autobot Leader retrieved his ion rifle, stowed away in his back compartment, and straightened it out to its full length. He readjusted its setting with a quick twist of the barrel.
"If spared, he would no doubt return." Prime glanced over at Thunderwing. "We would go through the usual motions, thousands more would be lost and, ultimately, we would arrive precisely where we are now."
The Matrix-bearer looked back to Cyclonus. "Nevertheless -- you and I both know so long as Thunderwing is in possession of his Matrix, he cannot be so easily 'killed'."
Gun in hand, he approached the Pretender, now fused between a desk and the lobby floor by the Decepticon Targetmaster's oxidizing laser.
Optimus stopped a pace from Thunderwing's side and glowered down at him. He abhorred the notion of killing a clearly humbled opponent -- it wasn't the Autobot way -- but, Prime couldn't disregard the stellar cycles of devastation that the Liege Centuro had caused. Given the chance, he would certainly return, perhaps more powerful than before.
What other choice do I have?
Optimus raised his ion rifle and held it directly above the Pretender's forehead. His finger eased down on the trigger. "The shear monotony of it all," he told Thunderwing. "This vicious circle must end."
But he did not fire.
Instead, Prime cocked his free arm back and, with great force, drove his fist down at the Imperial's chest. The Autobot Leader would prize Thunderwing of his coveted Matrix first.
__________________
Hoist's Shuttle
Hoist stopped welding for a moment while he considered Searchlight's question. "Chase, Rollbar and Wideload, you mean?" he replied, continuing with the Throttlebot's repairs. "No, I haven't seen them. I don't even think they were stationed here in Protihex. Did they come with you?"
---
Constructicon Field Hospital
Shockwave soon returned to the encampment, lugging two empty stasis pods over his shoulders.
The former-Decepticon moved his way down an aisle of patients, mindful of the Constructicons toiling about, and placed the vessels carefully down onto a unoccupied slab.
"When you are finished bickering among yourself," he then told Hook, "Your assistance..."
____________________
Northern Border, Galaxy Shuttle
(OOC: Goes without saying since you guys are already on it, but...continued from the Crystal City thread.)
Having successfully vanquished the Imperial forces in Crystal City and laying waste to the Warworld, the Autobot and Decepticon forces on board Galaxy Shuttle arrived as victors.
Because the Gigatron-allied territory neighbored Protihex, it was a brief trek. The massive Autobot starship slowly sailed over the northern border, along with a small entourage of flightmechs.
Still keeping vigil was Prowl's perimeter guard, now distinguishable from Galaxy Shuttle's position. The smoke and ruin at Protihex's center was also plainly visible, where an ominous red haze hung overhead.
On the bridge, Decibel sat hunched over a communications terminal, looking over the array and the steadily approaching city-state on the viewscreen.
"Trion to Galaxy Shuttle," Dai Atlas' voice hailed from the console's speaker. "Please respond."
"Decibel here," the communications officer replied.
He pressed a switch at his station, then spun his seat toward the main monitor, where Dai Atlas waited.
"Nice of you to join us."
"Better late than never, I suppose," said Decibel. "Mission accomplished in Crystal City, at any rate. We're here to offer our assistance." He glanced over to the smaller monitor at his station. "I see you've set up a perimeter. What's happening in there?"
"That would be Prowl's doing," Dai Atlas told him. "Our goal has been to contain and neutralize. We've been successful so far; the tide has shifted in our favor. Imperial numbers have diminished considerably and their outposts have all but been wiped out. I'll transmit you a more detailed report to pass along."
"And the red cloud?" the communications officer inquired. "It's setting off all sorts of alerts over here."
"That would be the synthetic 'hate plague' that the Imperials dispersed over the Steelhaven's former landing site," said the Trion captain. "Protihex has effectively been quarantined - also Prowl's doing. Induced precipitation has prevented it from spreading and, from what I understand, a retrovirus has already been developed by the Decepticons, but it's a no-go zone--
"You are not to fly over the city-state center," Dai Atlas firmly added. "Those are the General's orders. Be sure to notify your commanding officer."
"I'll be sure to let him know."
---
Hangar Bay
Tensions had died down in Galaxy Shuttle's lower level with the recent boarding of Megatron-allied soldiers. Bludgeon, who had assumed command of Gigatron's forces in Crystal City, had managed to calm internal dissension between the feuding Decepticon factions.
Meanwhile, the Autobots, made bystanders in their own ship, minded to their own business and milled about the hangar, loitering about or readying their shuttles for departure.
"So, uh...what's the word, boss?" Over-Run inquired, impatiently.
Sky Lynx, who at that moment was receiving Decibel's report from the bridge, shot the red Autobot a withering look. "Over-Run, please," the dinoblast chided. "I am speaking with Decibel -- Please continue."
".....is a no-go zone," said the communications officer. "Prowl's orders. We're to bank down with the perimeter guard at the northern border."
"Understood. Thank you, Decibel."
The Lieutenant Commander switched off his comlink and brought his visor down toward Bludgeon. "Splendid news, my comrade," he said. "We have arrived at our destination and all goes well for our allied forces--
"I have, however, also been informed," he added, forebodingly, "that we are not to approach the city-state center. Thunderwing, somehow, has conjured up a new strain of the Hate Plague virus."
Upon overhearing this news, many of the Autobots assembled in the hangar began to murmur among themselves...
Hoist's Shuttle
"With me? I don't think so." Searchlight looked glum as he continued watching Freeway. "Awful lot of people came here, though. Awful lot of people died here too... Hoist, how do you people handle it? You and Windcharger and Sideswipe and everyone else... you guys have been in this game far longer than I have..."
_________________________________
Constructicon Field Hospital
Windcharger followed suit behind Shockwave with a third stasis pod in tow, floating behind him like some sort of floating pet, and lowered it next to the other two Shockwave had placed on unoccupied slabs..
"We're doing some highly sensitive spark surgery here." Hook replied to Shockwave. "In a minute or two." Hook took the chunk of armour salvaged from Great Cannon and began to solder it over Bonecrusher's chest in quick, swift movements. "Scrapper, Long Haul... we have healed him. Long Haul, energize him. Use distilled energon spiked with 0,05% taxxon and 0,01% hydragium. Our team's token brute should be up and about soon."
Leaving Long Haul to do the job of reviving Bonecrusher, Hook turned to regard Shockwave and began to inspect the stasis pods, circling the slab with a scrutinizing expression on his face, as if utterly disappointed with the inferior Autobot-model stasis pods.
"I believe it will suffice, if not ideally, but this is not my area of expertise. What say you, Scrapper?" Hook said at last. "Reverse-engineering it into a biochemical agent detonator would easily be within our capabilities, certainly What concerns me is the compressed fluid system, if it would be sufficient for a decent size of area."
_________________________________
Galaxy Shuttle
Bludgeon had ignored the Insecticons to their own bickering over the death of one of their own. He had no interests in such petty games. Death is death. Dishonourable vermin, the Insecticons are, and death they deserved...
He was, instead, listening to reports from the remaining troops in the city. Skyjack, who was a double agent among Megatron's brood until that instant, gave highly informative reports. His Metallikato skills were one thing, but they usually tended to be vague. Sixshot, who naturally survived, was also making his reports... which included resisting the effects of the Hate Plague.
Good. The sixchanger's potential was there.
Bludgeon instead turned his attention to Sky Lynx, who addressed him. Bludgeon nodded. "Indeed." Bludgeon nodded, "I have just received a report from Sixshot. He says that the Constructicons and your Perceptor had developed a cure, and are rescuing the afflicted. Reportedly they are still working on dissipating the cloud. How shall we deploy, Lieutenant Commander?"
"With me? I don't think so." Searchlight looked glum as he continued watching Freeway. "Awful lot of people came here, though. Awful lot of people died here too... Hoist, how do you people handle it? You and Windcharger and Sideswipe and everyone else... you guys have been in this game far longer than I have..."
_________________________________
Constructicon Field Hospital
Windcharger followed suit behind Shockwave with a third stasis pod in tow, floating behind him like some sort of floating pet, and lowered it next to the other two Shockwave had placed on unoccupied slabs..
"We're doing some highly sensitive spark surgery here." Hook replied to Shockwave. "In a minute or two." Hook took the chunk of armour salvaged from Great Cannon and began to solder it over Bonecrusher's chest in quick, swift movements. "Scrapper, Long Haul... we have healed him. Long Haul, energize him. Use distilled energon spiked with 0,05% taxxon and 0,01% hydragium. Our team's token brute should be up and about soon."
Leaving Long Haul to do the job of reviving Bonecrusher, Hook turned to regard Shockwave and began to inspect the stasis pods, circling the slab with a scrutinizing expression on his face, as if utterly disappointed with the inferior Autobot-model stasis pods.
"I believe it will suffice, if not ideally, but this is not my area of expertise. What say you, Scrapper?" Hook said at last. "Reverse-engineering it into a biochemical agent detonator would easily be within our capabilities, certainly What concerns me is the compressed fluid system, if it would be sufficient for a decent size of area."
_________________________________
Galaxy Shuttle
Bludgeon had ignored the Insecticons to their own bickering over the death of one of their own. He had no interests in such petty games. Death is death. Dishonourable vermin, the Insecticons are, and death they deserved...
He was, instead, listening to reports from the remaining troops in the city. Skyjack, who was a double agent among Megatron's brood until that instant, gave highly informative reports. His Metallikato skills were one thing, but they usually tended to be vague. Sixshot, who naturally survived, was also making his reports... which included resisting the effects of the Hate Plague.
Good. The sixchanger's potential was there.
Bludgeon instead turned his attention to Sky Lynx, who addressed him. Bludgeon nodded. "Indeed." Bludgeon nodded, "I have just received a report from Sixshot. He says that the Constructicons and your Perceptor had developed a cure, and are rescuing the afflicted. Reportedly they are still working on dissipating the cloud. How shall we deploy, Lieutenant Commander?"