[New RPG] World at War: The Siege of Iacon

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Selkadoom
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Post by Selkadoom »

War Academy

Brainstorm slowly slipped back into his normal demeanor, looking at the new comers and thanking Primus that they had gotten some more, though the magenta and yellow one looked fun, Hot Rod he thought he was calledhe hopped off and approached as if there wasn't an extinction event "How do you do? Names Brainstorm"

____________________________________________________

Makeshift Training Room, Nemesis

Bludgeon seemed fun to mess with, so Jetstorm took his hands off his blades handle and held his arms out "So far all I hear is bark and no bite. Maybe your just afraid eh?" he taunted
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Post by Heinrad »

Makeshift Training Room, Nemesis:

Bludgeon didn't respond, as he was already moving, almost at the speed of thought. With a flash, his energo-katana igniting in mid-strike, aiming for Jetstorm's spark core.

*********
War Academy, Main Quad:

The shuttles landed, the ones landing closest to the temporary medbay dropping the cargo hatches open.

Tracks stepped out of the shuttle that landed next to Optimus. "We brought everything that was airworthy-"

One of the shuttles backfired massively, smoke billowing out of the engine cowling on it's port side.

Optimus quirked an eyebrow at Tracks, who shrugged.

"More or less."
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Post by Selkadoom »

Training Room, Nemesis

Jetstream never stopped smirkimg as one of his thruster feet angled itself up and he suddenly spun his body 90 degrees before jumping back and drawing his own blade, lowering himself and waiting, grin growing wider at how eager Bludgeon was to fight. His own blade crackled with energy, small bolts of red darting over its crimson surface
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Post by Heinrad »

Training Room, Nemesis:


Bludgeon kept moving forward, taking to the air, slashing at Jetstream's shoulder, attempting to diagonally bisect his opponent's torso.

************
War Academy:


Hot Rod looked over as Brainstorm introduced himself. "Hot Rod. Good to meet you."
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Post by Aero Blade »

((OOC: Sorry for MIA guys. Work, life, family, vehicles, and computers. Don't think I need to elaborate past that))

War Academy, Main Quad, Medbay

With the shuttles landing outside, Terabolt moved outside the building, immediately taking point and watching for any Terrorcons that might be attracted by the new noise. After briefly surveying the area, Tera waived the medical staff to proceed, keeping at the ready with her swords in case any surprises.


Cybertron orbit

Hound silently and anxiously continued to watch the shuttle sensors as they made their decent, monitoring for any changes in the readings. Occasionally he would glance over at Raiku to monitor the other mech's condition, but there was not much to see, the mechanic just numbly continuing to sit in the same position as before.

Hound looked back at the sensors, finally noticing something worth reporting. "We've got increased lifesigns at our target location, possibly some additional vehicles," He spoke aloud to Red Alert.
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Post by Selkadoom »

Training Room,Nemesis

Jetstream laughed in delight as he met blades with Bludgeon locking blades briefly before pushing him back and making an uppercut swing at him.

_____________________________________________________

War Academy

Brainstorm took a firm grasp of Hot Rods hand and shook it "A pleasure to meet you, though the circumstances could have been far better" he remarked as he let go and started movong for the Shuttles, Ratchet taking his MARB and the few bots on it into one
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Post by Warcry »

War Academy

As the shuttle approached the makeshift refugee camp, Red Alert glanced out the window.

"That's good news," Red Alert told Hound. "I just hope we can do something to help them."

The shuttle slowed and circled, and the pilot looked back at them with a shrug.

"I guess we should announce ourselves so we don't get shot down," Red Alert sighed. Leaning over to the communications console, he activated the microphone and said, "This is Detective Red Alert of the Iacon Police to the survivors in the War Academy. Are you in need of assistance?"
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Post by Blackjack »

War Academy

Prowl blinked. He looked at the scene of destruction before him. The training grounds, the records room, the recreation complex he's been lobbying to downsize for years...

He wasn't quite sure just what hit him. And he hated not knowing what took him out more than knowing that he actually got taken out.

The last thing he remembered was organizing the defense against the... zombie-cons? Something like that? He was organizing the defense with... Optimus Prime. That's right. Sentinel Prime was dead. Zeta Prime was dead.

Two Primes dead within the span of... how long has it been?

Prowl forced himself up from the medical gurney he was in, waving off the medics working on him. He needed to strategize. He needed to... to view the pros and cons of everything, make sure they make an optimal move.

The War Academy is destroyed. Zeta Prime is dead. Sentinel is dead. The Decepticons have a gigantic armada and six-changers and zombies and an army of self-replicating troopers and Primus knows what else. No, this wasn't a chess puzzle or one of Obsidian's theoretical cases where there is a way out that he hasn't seen yet.

This was the cold, hard, reality. The dust in the air was the reality. The sick smell of burnt energon and crumbling metal in his olfactory sensors was reality. The screams and cries of the wounded and the dying filling his auditory sensors was reality. Iacon, the Jewel of Cybertron, reduced to what amounts to a pile of rubble. That was reality. The death of his leaders, his allies -- possibly his family -- was reality.

They have lost. That was reality.

Prowl looked around. Where was Optimus Prime? Where were the ones with him -- Terabolt, Jazz, Yoketron, Sideswipe, Ratchet?

Where were his brothers? Where were Smokescreen, Bluestreak, Jolt and the rest?

Prowl shook his head.

Too much to think about. Too much to deal with. No. Victory was near-impossible. But survival. Survival was what they needed to do.

Deal with now. Deal with the situation now.

Rebuild. Regroup. Evacuate, was it not, the order Optimus Prime gave last?

They had a leader. Orion was no fool. Orion would prioritize survival over victory, Prowl thought. Survival to win another day.

The call coming in through his commlink -- a familiar voice. A... friendly voice, if you could call it that. That, too, was reality. "Red Alert." Prowl said in surprise, before remembering to press the button that activated his commlink. "Red Alert. This is Prowl. Yes, yes, we are in dire need of assistance."
___________________________________________________

Bridge, Nemesis

Scorponok, his body fully restored courtesy of the good doctor Knock Out, walked into the Bridge. He had taken his own sweet time testing out every single one of the features of his new body -- wouldn't do to have some system malfunction, of course. It's not that he suspected Knock Out of substandard work, but if there is one thing Scorponok loved, it was control. Control over the Senate, back when he was a Senator. Control over all the finances and workers that were under him. Control over every single factor going on with his experiments.

Some shrink that worked for his company had guessed that it was why Scorponok wanted such a gigantic 'transector' body armour thing. Both the giant body, how he loved to push the limits of ethical science, and his sheer lust for control... was it all to compensate for his tiny frame?

Scorponok didn't particularly care either way. Psychology did not interest him too much. He supposed it could be true, but then again, just about anything can be justified with some psychological reason when Scorponok knew, deep down, that he had a far simpler reason than overcompensation or acting out.

He simply loved to be in charge.

He suspected Megatron to have some similar undertones in his psyche as well, noble revolutionist speeches and intentions notwithstanding. Not that Scorponok was stupid enough to voice those opinions within earshot of their esteemed leader, of course... he wasn't suicidal. And besides, he had no desire to lead a revolution.

But entrenching himself in a high position in the new world order? That he wanted to do.

Scorponok walked into the Bridge, his titanic body frame causing lesser Decepticons and Vehicons to make way for him. Scorponok smiled. This was another reason he liked a larger body. Behind him, the equally-tall Sixshot moved, a silent shadow that exuded certain death. His -- well, Team Science's -- masterpiece. The world's first one-man army.

And, yes, the not-small amount of control he exerts over Sixshot was also a form of power on its own.

Scorponok, followed by Sixshot, entered the Bridge and lurked among the many retainers and ranked commanders that were fortunate enough to board the flagship of the fleet. He saw, up on the commanding spot, Predacon, just chilling out with his brother, the tyrant revolutionary. With them was a mass of thin triangles that resembled a modern art project more than an actual Decepticon, but Scorponok suspected that that particular Decepticon was important enough to hang out with the buckethead brothers.

Scorponok smiled. He was fine lurking in the background... for now.
___________________________________________________

Bow, Nemesis

Iacon came to view. The Jewel of Cybertron... reduced to smoking ruins. Those zombie-things that those crazy scientists have created no doubt ravaging the hell out of the city. Hah. More like the pockmark of Cybertron, now.

Skywarp smiled. To an observer, it would not look like a smile full of malice, but simply a happy, joyous smile. Like what one would have on their face when they received a gift. 'Number twenty-three' was what they called him. A number. That was all Skywarp was to the higher-ups and scientists of Iacon. A number.

They experimented on him. Tore him apart, rebuilt him. Just because he has some weird protoform thingamagig that he doesn't really understand -- able to withstand personal teleportation? Whatever the case, they gave Skywarp power. They gave Skywarp pain.

Number twenty-three no more. He had been reborn Skywarp.

They took his memories too. He didn't really know how he got from Iacon to Kaon, but Megatron... Megatron took him in. Megatron took so many people in. That nice big dude Lugnut, those dudes with the same bodyframes as him, Starry and Thundercracker, that grumpy old general Obsidian... who was still comatose the last time Skywarp checked in the medbay.

Skywarp perched on one of the tip of the Nemesis' many, many jutting spires. He looked down as Iacon came into view.

Skywarp was not a smart person, nor did he care very much that he wasn't. But he knew... whatever is coming next, Iacon is going to be obliterated. Just like his past. Skywarp smiled again, and impulsively waved at the group of airborne Vehicons that flew past him, one of the many, many teams that are orbiting the Nemesis.

It is so good. He was so glad he joined the Decepticons. And all it took was a simple promise from Megatron. Not revenge, not destruction, not wanton killing, not companionship... but simply a new beginning.

And Skywarp wanted nothing more than that.

Number twenty-three no more.
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Post by Blackjack »

Medbay, Nemesis

Nightmares.

Obsidian only knew nightmares as he lay in a catatonic state of half sleep and half awake.

Nightmares.

Cybertron burned.

The dead roam the streets of Iacon as buildings fall down and smoke filled the air.

Cybertron burned. A nightmare. Merely a nightmare. And nightmares are not real.

A nightmare he himself helped craft.

He watched, numbly, through eyes that did not see, out from the windows near the bed he was lying on. Cybertron burned, the jewel of the galaxy, his charge, his child, what he had defended throughout his life.

How could his intents to defend Cybertron fall apart? No, this cannot be real. Megatron wanted a new future for Cybertron. A second Golden Age! Like the days of Prima the Third and Nova Prime.

This was not a Golden Age. This was... a burning age? A dark age?

What was this?

Iacon burned. Protihex was in ruins. Crystal City was no more. The grand jewels of Cybertron, the relics of the past, their glory, their beauty... all torn apart in a matter of weeks.

Weeks!

How can the glory of Cybertron be torn down so quickly? They defended Cybertron against so much. Against the Renegades, against Violen Jyger, against the invaders of the Nexus, against the Cult of the Deceivers, against the Ebon Knights, against Mogahn the Mass... no, how can Cybertron fall?

It cannot be anything but a nightmare.

Obsidian refused to believe it.

But yet as flames danced throughout the surface of Cybertron, as dark smoke rose up and disappeared into the upper atmosphere, as the gigantic spires and towers and cities started to crumble, as the surface of Cybertron itself went from its former gold-silver hue into dark gunmetal...

As his very eyes confirmed what his mind refused to deny...

The nightmare is real.

And he caused the nightmare to become real.
___________________________________________________

The Front Lines, War Academy

Grimlock stood atop a mountain of dismembered limbs. Hot Rod and Nightbeat had left him some time ago. How long? Hours? Days? Weeks? He could not tell. When the rage took over, time lost meaning. There was only the sword, the gun, and the battle. Slash the enemy. Shoot the enemy. Crush the enemy.

But now all the enemies were dead. Even the ones who spat on the face of death and stood up once more, they, too, were sliced up.

Grimlock looked behind him. There weren't many Autobots who were left holding this particular line, and he could saw those medical teams pulling the wounded out, while freshly-patched up soldiers entered the fray, holding guns borrowed from those who would not need them anymore. Grimlock shook his head, clearing it, as he stabbed his energo-sword into the ground.

He just felt... tired. All the adrenaline burnt out of him, all the rage and anger and bloodlust, and he just felt tired. So Grimlock plopped down and sat on top of a pile of torsos. All around him he heard whispers of the soldiers talking excitedly about the new Prime, how the new Prime had joined in the battle almost immediately and all that stuff.

Bah. Primes are dumb, Grimlock decided to themselves. Either they are weak old fools get themselves killed by some stupid assassination attempts, or they get killed because they overestimate their own abilities. Zeta Prime? Sentinel Prime? Bah. Grimlock bet he would make a better Prime than either one of them. And this new greenhorn?

Bah.

Grimlock briefly thought that he might've been served better if he kept the purple badge and hung out with Obsidian and Megatron and the rest of the Decepticons. If he hung out with the winning team.

Then he looked at the mountain of corpses, the dead who were defiled by the Decepticons' machinations, and Grimlock felt a sense of disgust.

Yeah, that was wrong. Butchering the enemy, slaughtering the weaker ones, the stronger triumphing over the weaker ones, Grimlock was down with all that. But all this... disgusted Grimlock. Chemical weapons, slaughtering the innocent weaklings... slaughtering those who couldn't fight...

That wasn't sport. That wasn't survival of the fittest.

That was just brutality.

Grimlock clenched his own fist. Was he not a creature of brutality himself, however? Even as he thought about how he chose the Autobots over the Decepticons, what about his own brutality? None of the Autobots even want to stand near him, probably fearing the sight of his rampaging through the Decepticons before.

The Autobot sigil on his chest, splattered with the purple energon from those he slew, seemed to resemble a Decepticon sigil more than an Autobot one, and seemed to be mocking him.

With a disgust, Grimlock wiped away the purple energon off his sigil, revealing the red underneath. Such a simple thing shouldn't really bother Grimlock, it shouldn't.

A small, yellow-and-black Autobot tottered up to Grimlock, and sat down on the pile of dead bodies next to him, interrupting Grimlock's train of thoughts. "What you want?" Grimlock asked.

The small Autobot gave Grimlock a thumbs-up, then pointed at the piles and piles of dead bodies. His eyes narrowed in a sign that seemed to indicate that the mouthless Autobot was smiling.

"You no talk?" Grimlock asked.

The small Autobot pointed at his neck, at the obvious weld mark there. Ah. An injury. Grimlock remembered this Autobot -- part of the unit that fought against Megatron, Sixshot, Lugnut and the others where Sentinel Prime died. He survived, but not without some lasting damage.

Just like his own, Grimlock reflected. Just like how he cannot vocalize his thoughts into words more complex than me smash. Did the smaller Autobot pick up on that? Saw him more than a simple-minded beast?

Grimlock chuckled despite himself, and patted the smaller Autobot on the head. He'd probably just came up to be friendly, to talk (well, figuratively) to the scary rampaging death machine who was brooding. Young, but fearless. Though Grimlock supposed after seeing the likes of Megatron face-to-face and surviving, well, the kid's seen enough to make fear meaningless.

"You got name, kid?" Grimlock said.

The smaller Autobot pointed at a blood-stained little badge. It read 'BUMBLEBEE' in basic Northern-Cybertronian script. Grimlock liked that. It flowed well off his damaged vocoders.
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Post by Selkadoom »

Medbay,Nemesis

Nickel let out a satisfied sigh as she had finally cleaned every tool in the half of the medbay she designated hers, Knock Out and his rank be damned, she was no assistant frag it! But that was neither here nor there, she had doctorly duties.

Hopping down from her stool she used her thruster to hover over to the patients in the medbay, most were low ranking Vehicons that had been KO'd ir needed limbs replaced, things that needed time and rest to heal, and it seems Knock Out had done good enough work to keep them healthy.

Though as she moved along she noticed one patient seemed to be having issues, his chart indicating he was semi-comatose, it said his name was Obsidian, the famous general? He looked old enough to match that description so maybe it was.

She ran a diagnostic and could see that his mind brain functions were very much active, she searched for anything else in him that perhaps the other medics had missed, curious and eager to prove herself.

____________________________________________________

Outside the War Academy

Brainstorm turned as he saw that Prowl was exiting the building "Huh, looks like someone got back up, figured he was a gonner" the Scientist drawled semi surprised that the high ranking Officer was still up, he slowly turned back to Hot Rod, "We should probably skidaddle over to the pick up point or we might get stuck here with the corpses and useless planet"

______________________________________________________

Makeshift madesure he was relatively safe for the moment before taking the chance of sequestering himself away and starting to slowly open a wrist panel on his assumed form and ever so carefully manually encrypt tma coded message back to the Nemesis, carefully laying out the coordinates and to his best guess an estimate on the autobots waoting for evac.

Honestly it was times like these the Shifter felt truly alive, relaying sensitive info in the heart of the enemy as they unknowingly walked by, oh Primus andvthe thirteen did it make his spark race knowing that if anyone found him out it'd be a mad frenzy to escape death
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Post by Blackjack »

Medbay, Nemesis

Obsidian, having not moved ever since the assault on Iacon, barely registered Nickel approaching him.

Is she, too, part of the nightmare?

Obsidian moved his eyes to better focus on Nickel's form, the outdated-but-polished clockwork gears that operated them clicking into place -- a small automatic gesture of focusing his eyes to look at something close by instead of far away, but something that a doctor would pick up on.

Obsidian tried to speak, but as in all nightmares no voice came out.

The medic looked real enough, though.

So was the room.
______________________________________________

War Academy

Prowl gave Brainstorm a withering look as he heard what the other Autobot said. Instinctively, Prowl's mind worked to dig up what he knew of him. His name was Brainstorm, Prowl knew that much -- he made it a point to know every Autobot in employ of Iacon. Scientist. Slightly unstable, made a lot of unconventional weapons.

Unpredictable. Prowl disliked that. But at the same time, ingenuous. Prowl approved that.

Well, no time -- nor reason -- to really interact with Brainstorm. Not when something else caught his attention.

An Omega Sentinel, hovering in all its glory, above Iacon.

Not just any Omega Sentinel.

The last of them. The mightiest of them. Their final bastion of defense.

"Omega Supreme."

More importantly than Omega Supreme's survival... was Smokescreen. Prowl's spark skipped a slight beat. Not only did Smokescreen survive, he actually did it. He succeeded in getting Omega Supreme to cooperate.

He opened a commlink to Smokescreen's private channel.

Please be alive.

Prowl never considered himself a religious person -- he never really believed in Primus and the Thirteen, nor did he believe in the Hand of Creation -- but at this point... he found himself pleading to whoever would hear to keep at allow one of his brothers to survive this horror.

"Smokescreen? Are you ali- are you alright?"

Prowl's voice, despite himself, cracked slightly when he spoke into the commlink. Briefly, of course, but not only was Smokescreen a psychiatrist, he was also his brother. Doubtless he would pick up on it. It was filled with something Prowl detested more than anything. Uncertainty. But that was what Prowl felt. Uncertainty. And a tense sense of hope.

Please. Be alive.
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Post by Aero Blade »

Medbay, Nemesis

"Ah yes, he's an interesting case," Knock Out spoke as he came over to Nickle, having taken note of her interest in the comatose patient. "Came in with no apparent wounds, no conditions, not a single thing wrong with him inside or out, but he's still out like a burnt-out power cell. I'm afraid whatever's wrong with him might be psycho-sematic, and I've yet to see anything resembling a proper head-doctor around here," he explained, a genuine lament in his tone for the unfortunate fellow's condition.

And then there was the brief sign of activity, the slight movement of the patient's eyes moving, trying to focus, the first real sides of conscious he'd expressed since being brought into the medbay. "Well, well! Welcome back, General Obsidian. How are you feeling?"


Quarters, Nemesis

"Wasn't much at my place to get, was more of a place to crash on my days off. Bodyguard work keeps you around your boss most of the time, and Death had plenty of provisions for us," Dirge told Ramjet. He took a moment to look over the abandoned items, as though evaluating any worth it might have. "Eh, some of this stuff might have potential. Didn't exactly keep a clean space, did he?"


War Academy, Iacon

As Terabolt kept an eye on the medics and refugees scrambling onboard, she was glad to see Prowl up and about after the blow he'd taken, tripped by a half-fuctional terrorcon. She hadn't been sure if the hit to the head had done him any damage, but he seemed alright, already trying to hail someone on his com. She wanted to check on him, but that would wait for when everyone was safely onboard.

Yoketron himself was also onboard doing similarly, helping usher everyone onboard but also staying alert at the entrance for any would-be threats.


((got nothing for my guys in the shuttle, post for them later))
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Post by Blackjack »

Medbay, Nemesis

Is this the real life?

Is this just... a nightmare?

"Well, well! Welcome back, General Obsidian. How are you feeling?" Obsidian heard the male doctor say.

He felt...

He felt like he was trapped beneath the weight of the world. Trapped beneath a landslide. He wished this was just fantasy.

No.

No escape from reality.

He had to open his eyes. He had to look out at the skies and see. See what he had wrought.

"I... I did this." Obsidian said. His vocal cords articulated the words slowly, but surely, as systems throughout his body began to reactivate once more. He was scum. He doesn't deserve the sympathy of these two doctors. The soldiers he led to their deaths deserved it more. "I threw it all away. Cybertron. Didn't mean- didn't mean to make it cry."
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Post by Selkadoom »

Medbay, Nemesis

Nickle frowned at seeing the anguish and sadness on Obsidian as well as hearing it in the tone with which the old general spoke, the minibot fluttering up on her small booster and resting a tiny but reassuring hand on his shoulder, her bleeding spark shining through for the others to see.

"It'll be ok general, we can carve out a new home for our race, one where we can make sure a tragedy like this never happens again, from forces inside or out" she said trying to be a comforting prescene to the bot who dwarfed the minicon
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Post by Heinrad »

War Academy:


Optimus had climbed atop one of the shuttles, clipping the shotgun onto the magno-holster on his hip and pulling the energo-sword from his back, activating the brilliant green blade and waving it, signaling all to head for the shuttles.

"Not t'sound critical-"

Optimus looked down, seeing Ironhide standing next to the shuttle. "I know. But you know as well as I do that the Autobots need to see their leader as fearless in the face of everything that's just happened."

"Ah'm more worried 'bout th' fact that seein' their new leader blown't atoms mahght be th' end'a th' Autobots."

Optimus smirked, continuing to wave the blade in the air. "If the past few days have shown us anything, becoming the leader might be a death sentence no matter what."

-----------------------

Nightbeat wandered over to Siren and Hosehead, who were sitting near a stack of crates waiting to be loaded aboard one of the shuttles. "Think we're going to make it after all, guys."

Hosehead nodded, but as he opened his mouth to speak, Siren burst in with, "I knew we'd get through this. Didn't I say we'd make it, Hosehead? Of course I did."

Nightbeat put his hands up, cutting off a long-winded diatribe from Siren. "Right, right. I was just wondering if you guys were waiting to be loaded on with the equipment or not."

******************
Training Room, Nemesis:

Bludgeon leaned back, avoiding the uppercut, turning it into a backflip, landing smoothly, electricity starting to crackle around the open palm of his right hand, optics narrowing behind his visor. "I wonder how much they really taught you."
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Post by Blackjack »

Medbay, Nemesis

“Cybertron was the jewel of the galaxy.” Obsidian said, mumbling, as he propped himself up unsteadily into what approximated a sitting position considering his legless upper body. “But we’ve gone and thrown it all away. It’s gone. We’re gone too far.”

His eyes blinked as information rushed once more within his head, as the sheer scope of the atrocities they’ve done bore down on his shoulders. He would’ve gone into mental shutdown again if he hadn’t willed himself not to carry on.

“Carve a new home?” Obsidian said bitterly, regarding Nickel. “Oh, child, you know not what you are talking about. We went too far. Our race is as good as dead now – our home, gone. Half our race, dead. And for what? A political dispute? We broke Cybertron. We broke something that can never be repaired. Millions of years of history. Gone in a week. Gone in flames.”
____________________________________________________

War Academy

Prowl looked up at the shuttles coming down, at Optimus Prime climbing up so heroically and waving that offensively-bright sword of his. Prowl saw Ironhide, no doubt telling the young Prime what an absolute moron he was for painting himself as a target – not only is he brightly visible, he purposefully put himself on a high point where anyone carrying a sniper rifle can take a bead and kill mister leader of the free galaxy.

Yet… yet at the same time, Prowl felt a sense of… comfort? It was hard to describe. ‘Hope’, he guessed, fit best. The abstract term that the brainless masses use to describe the irrational sensation that comes whenever an advantageous situation that should by rights be considered in the planning stages occurs.

Irrational. Abstract. Illogical.

Yet it was that same irrational feeling that washed over Prowl, that reignited the fire within the Autobot’s spark, that washed away the fatigue that has set in.

Their leader – inexperienced, young, in the face of so much death and disaster – yet he was still putting himself in the line of fire just to inspire the masses? He was still fighting, fighting for a cause that Prowl was almost ready to give up a moment ago. He had the energy and the drive to go into battle that Zeta never had, yet had the charisma and coolheadedness that Sentinel lacked. He was… a perfect commanding officer.

No.

He was a leader.

He was a Prime.

The first one that Prowl witnessed that he thought truly, truly deserved the title Prime. The best of them all. The incorruptible. The beacon of hope. Prowl smiled, despite himself, despite the situation. This was a leader he would follow. And it was illogical. A simple act as waving a glow-stick on top of a shuttle? Others have put themselves more at risk that day. This was simply being stupid, risking the life of the commanding figure for nothing more than a brief reassuring gesture. In the end, a hollow gesture…

Yet it meant the world to Prowl.

And at that moment, Prowl understood what leadership truly meant. Inspiring your troops. And as if bidden by a beacon he could not see, Prowl followed the Autobot masses moving towards the shuttles.
____________________________________________________

Bumblebee looked up at Optimus Prime signaling the evacuation to the shuttles, made a short bloop-ing noise and tapped Grimlock’s side, pointed at the Prime and made a gesture of a ship taking off.

“Yeh. Running away.” Grimlock snorted, as he stood up. The large Autobot put his hand on the pommel of his blade and pulled it out of the ground. “Not bad plan. Megatron come back, finish job.” And considering what little he saw in Kaon, Megatron had more than plenty resources to wipe out Iacon off the map – quite literally.

Bumblebee frowned, pointed at Grimlock’s sword, and traced a question glyph in the air.

Someone must be rear guard.” Grimlcok chuckled. He waved at the other soldiers guarding the perimeter. “Fall back!” He roared. “Me hold line.”

The soldiers nearby looked at each other, looked at Grimlock… and stood to attention, pulling out their weapons, and aiming them towards the next wave of shambling zombies. Not one of them left. Bumblebee made an amused bleeping sound, and his own right arm transformed to a cannon that glowed red-hot. Two miniature missile racks clicked out from his shoulders. A battle-mask slid down to cover his face.

Grimlock looked at the soldiers, gave them a nod of grudging respect, before pulling out his double-barrelled, self-propelled rocket launcher and launching two shells which erupted and took out two reanimated Vehicons. “Fine. We all rear guard.”
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Selkadoom
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Post by Selkadoom »

War Academy

Brainstorm had started to glance towards Optimus Prime, he couldn't help but feel a sense of mild ease, as if maybe this wasn't just a last second retreat, but a true second chance to regroup, but he shook those thoughts from his head as he pulled out a data pad.

Stepping away from the others towards the shuttle he rechecked all his notes on these terrorcons or zombiecons or whatever the other Autobots called them. He was quick to combine them into the notes he had found and copied from the academy involving Dark Energon. Perhaps it may yield something besides his brainless head remover weapon, something that could really make that dark energon give him some fun when the zombies blew up.
____________________________________________________

Training Room, Nemesis

Jetstream raised an eyebrow and chuckled, rubbing a small gouge that ran along his face as he slipped into almost a casual stroll, as of this wasn't a fight at all

"Well truth be told I didn't train under the knights for long, was picked up by the relic to become a personal student quite quickly, though he's also the reason I was denied entry into the knights, so perhaps it's a bittersweet memory these days" he drawled on, eyes never once leaving Bludgeon as he walked along seemingly careless

____________________________________________________

Medbay

Nickel couldn't help but wince and frown from the harsh retort from Obsidian, the young minicon slowly removing her hand from him and hovering there, pensive.

She sighed and ran another diagnostic on him "Is there, anything else I can do to help you general?" she asked trying to remain neutral
[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]

PSN ID: Selkadoom13
Steam: Scruffy.j2
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Warcry
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Joined: Fri Aug 23, 2002 4:10 am
Location: Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada

OOC: Yay Blackjack!

Post by Warcry »

War Academy

Red Alert's expression flickered with something that almost looked like a smile, but it was gone so quickly that even he wasn't sure.

"Prowl? You're not dead. That's good." He glanced out the window again before saying "I'll get our pilot to set us down so that we can evacuate some of your people."
____________________________________________

Omega Supreme

The incoming call surprised Smokescreen so much that he lost his footing and had to grab hold of the nearby bulkhead to keep from falling over himself into Strongarm.

"P...Prowl?" The psychiatrist barely dared to whisper the name, as if he didn't trust his own audio receptors. But that was ridiculous, he told himself. He was the picture of mental health and if he was going to start hearing voices he was sure he'd choose a more interesting one than that.

"Prowl," he said again, more firmly. "I can't put into words how relieved I am that you're functional. Are you going to be joining us aboard Omega Supreme?"
____________________________________________

Bridge, Nemesis

Lugnut nodded brusquely to Sixshot when he arrived, after looking Scorponok over very carefully to ensure that he wouldn't pose a threat to the mighty Megatron.
____________________________________________

Receiving a message from one of their few remaining embedded assets behind the Autobot lines, Soundwave quickly decoded it and flashed the text on Megatron's screen.

"Confirmation," was all he said verbally. Words, he found, weren't coming as readily to him now that he was disconnected from his network of processors and data banks. They had been his whole world, and as much as he'd wanted to escape them, the world that he was living among now simply didn't seem as 'real' to him.

"Good," Megatron told him. "Helm, our ETA?"

"Nine minutes, sir."

"Good, good." Without looking over his shoulder, Megatron said, "Scorponok, would you care to join us in the command well so that you can fully enjoy the ruination of the shambled remains of the Autobot cause?"
____________________________________________

Quarters, Nemesis

"He was an ever bigger slob than me," Ramjet told Dirge. "And that's sayin' somethin'. But he got the hint last time his junk spilled over into my half'a the room. I called a couple buddies over and we had ourselves a nice bonfire!"
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Blackjack
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Post by Blackjack »

Medbay, Nemesis

"Yes. Tell me where on this- this damnable dreadnaught our esteemed leader Megatron is." Obsidian replied, slightly louder and harsher than he might've intended, to Nickel. It wasn't her fault, Obsidian told himself. She was doing her job. She's just a soldier. Like Suppressor and the rest. She wasn't at fault.

"I apologize for that outburst." Obsidian said, closing his optics and pinching the bridge of his nose with two long fingers. "I have no quarrel with you good healers. But I must have urgent words with our leader. I've got to go. I've got to leave you all behind for now -- I've got to face the truth."

The rotors on his shoulders became active as he hovered up. "Hopefully I can make Megatron see the truth as well before it's too late."
____________________________________________

War Academy

Red Alert's comm came first, but, man, Prowl decided to put the other Autobot on hold. It was strategically the more important call, but personally? And, well, Prowl never appreciated the term 'personal reasons' more than this moment.

He smiled, ignoring the little creak that the metalwork of his face made when it assumed the unfamiliar expression. "Smokescreen. I, too, am relieved that I am functional." A poor attempt at an icebreaker -- Prowl knew enough humour; he wasn't that much of a stick-in-the-mud -- but even he knew it was a poor attempt. He decided to just continue on before he embarrasses himself even more.

"But more importantly is the fact that you are. And the fact that you have somehow gotten Omega Supreme active. I'm not quite sure if I'm joining you, though. Hold on a minute."

Prowl let Red Alert's transmission play, and replied, "Yes, I do agree that the lack of my death is good. By perchance, are you affiliated with the people on Omega Supreme? I do require a lift up there, and I'm not sure which of these many, many shuttles are headed there. All, I'm assuming?"

Slightly rambling. Well, Prowl shrugged mentally. He just nearly died. And he was in a slightly happier mood than before. Surely he could be allowed a slight reprieve?
____________________________________________

Bridge, Nemesis

Sixshot returned the nod to Lugnut. The bodyguard was in his element, shadowing Leader Megatron and Creator Predacon.

Brothers.

Leader Megatron.

Creator Predacon.

He's never really considered that before. He knew that the two of them were brothers. But he never considered the similarity.

Megatron and Predacon.

Sixshot and the Vehicons.

Brick and Hammer.

Drivetrain, Breakneck, Iron Claw, Ironside, Buckshoot, Scythe, Dirt Rocket, Impulsor and Chopsaw.

And all the rest.

His brothers.

He wondered where Brick and Hammer was. Were they in the same ship as he was. Sixshot scanned the Vehicons, looking for them -- they all looked different to him, he had learned to discern the slight differences in....

In body language?

Personalities?

Sixshot was not quite sure, but he could tell the Vehicons apart far better than he could tell apart the other, 'normal' Decepticons...

Is 'normal' even the right word?

But Sixshot could tell the Vehicons apart very well, even though by rights he should not be able to -- they all visually looked identical.

But he felt...

A kinship?

A brotherhood?
____________________________________________

Scorponok watched Lugnut watch him, and gave the bodyguard a smile and a happy wave with one massive claw. He's dealt with enough overzealous bodyguards on his time, and he'd rather his leader have one than not.

He was honestly, genuinely surprised when Megatron addressed him (without even looking back! That was a skill Scorponok truly wanted to have without utilizing Scorpobabies) and smiled. Well, so much for my plans of keeping a relatively low profile...

"Honored to, of course." Scorponok said, as the small sea of Decepticons before him parted. The taller Decepticon made his way towards the dais that Megatron and his hangers-on were, and Scorponok lurked close to Predacon, after giving Soundwave another curious glance.

He really looks like a piece of modern art Scorponok saw in one of the Decimuses' apartments.

"So what are the particulars you have in mind for the Autobots' destruction, Lo- er, Megatron? Fusion bombs? An old-fashioned orbital bombardment? Or something even more grandiose?"
____________________________________________

Skywarp frowned. Iacon came to view below them as he perched on the tip of one of the Nemesis's many, many spikes.

That can't be...

"An Omega Sentinel." Skywarp muttered. He never saw one in flesh, and honestly he was surprised to remember what the behemoth was called, but he saw enough images when he was not Skywarp but number-twenty-three. They were trying to mass-produce the Sentinels, called them some stupid shortening of big words or something.

Skywarp looked towards the bridge -- far from where he was perched, but for someone with teleportation, the distance was pointless. All the smart people were there. Megatron, Starscream, Thundercracker, Obsidian, Lugnut... they would know what to do.

They probably are already doing it.

Skywarp straightened himself... then stopped, and crouched again, frowning, clasping his hands together. "Party pooper." He muttered under his breath. "This should've been clean and neat."
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Warcry
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Post by Warcry »

War Academy

"Omega Supreme?" Red Alert shook his head. "Assuming that's what the giant starship hovering over the city is called, no, we're not from there," he told Prowl. "But we're glad to hear that it's friendly. No, we just got back from our mission to Soundwave's communications hub -- which, I'm happy to report, is now disabled and free of Decepticon presence, for whatever good that does now."

He wanted to ask the other Autobot for details, for an explanation about what had happened to their world while they were away, but he didn't allow himself that luxury. It would have to wait until all these people were safe.

As the shuttle settled down on a relatively flat section of land and lowered its' ramp, Red continued, "If this Omega Supreme is where people are going, then we'd be glad to take you and anyone else we can fit up with is."
____________________________________________

Omega Supreme

"Are you sure you're okay? That sounded like a joke." Smokescreen ribbed Prowl gently. "Omega Supreme is...well, I guess you could say he's grudgingly decided to cooperate. He helped rescue the inhabitants of several space stations on his way here and drove off a few smaller Decepticon warships. I think he wanted to try to take on the bulk of their armada on his own, but we've convinced him that it was more important to act as an evacuation vessel."

"Gossip: not appreciated," a deep voice boomed over the nearby loudspeaker. "Sentinels: sworn to protect life. Refugees: safe here. Combat: last resort."

"Yes, yes, I know," Smokescreen assured him. "But Prowl wasn't here and I'm bringing him up to speed."

"Explanation: accepted."

"Anyway," he continued, "as far as I know everyone is coming up here, because--" His voice broke as he thought of the view of a ruined Cybertron that he'd seen from the bridge. "Because nowhere on the surface is safe anymore. I don't know what happened, but the entire planet is basically uninhabitable."

Smokescreen frowned. "And speaking of not knowing what's happened, someone calling himself 'Optimus Prime' responded to our hail when we reached orbit. Is he...legitimate? I think my friends who've put themselves in charge of ship's security are planning to arrest him when he shows up."
____________________________________________

Bridge, Nemesis

Lugnut didn't trust Scorponok. Nobody who smiled at bodyguards could possibly be up to anything good. His attention flagged, though, as he watched Sixshot staring at the Vehicons. There was something not quite right about the sixchanger, he decided, though he didn't think the other Decepticon posed a threat. If anything, he looked...lost? Or maybe confused.

"Something wrong?" he grunted in the other heavy-duty Decepticon's direction.
____________________________________________

Predacon smirked when he noticed the way that Scorponok kept shooting confused looks at Soundwave.

"I doubt Soundwave appreciates your scrutiny," he whispered, "after all he's done for our cause."

"Nothing grandiose at all," Megatron told the larger Decepticon as he approached. "I want to capture their evacuation shuttles, line the survivors up against the wall and shoot them. Keeping their supposed 'Optimus Prime' for last, naturally. Then I'll kill him personally, tear the Matrix from his still-warm corpse and let the two of you dissect it for science."
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