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Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

The local Solar System. From the Sun to Earth's orbit and the Moon. And from there all the way into the outer regions of the system beyond Neptune and the dwarf planets beyond it.

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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Sat Sep 01, 2012 8:27 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Wheeljack’s Lab

Tracer’s body moved slightly as a shiver ran down her spinal column once the scan had finally been completed. It wasn’t invasive in the least but it was still too close for her comfort. The blue and white scout let out a low nervous chuckle before quieting down and turning her gaze away from Smokescreen and casting it to the floor. She was relieved when he told her that he would never walk away from here even if something unnerving was found in the examination.

It was his last query, however, that had her draw in a deep intake of air and hold it. There was something but there was no possible way she could explain it. She didn’t answer him right away; instead she slowly looked back up and locked optics with him. After a moment a small tentative smile crossed over her features, but it faltered causing her to break off her gaze before she finally answered.

“I’m sure Wheeljack and Axle can take care of things. I’m not really worried…not much at least."

It was the best she could come up with without revealing what she truly felt and knew.
She could only hope that the scans had come up with nothing more than some preliminary readings.

“Thanks, Wheeljack."

Tracer shook her head when the engineer had given his thoughts on just what the scanner’s results were. They weren’t promising but then again she had already known what kind of damage the narcotic had done and was still doing. The scout let out a sigh and tuned out the two mechs who were continuing their discussion about the readout.

She could hear Smokescreen demanding to know exactly what was found. Tracer could hear it taking place but it seemed that it didn’t register as her optics and her head never lifted to focus on the disgruntled rallybot and the engineer.

“13%. It doesn’t seem like such a large number."

Tracer’s voice was low and seemed far away. It was hard to believe that something that could help her feel like everyone else was in essence slowly killing her. She let out another sigh and shook her head. She was prepared to say something more when Axle had entered the lab and stepped up beside Wheeljack.

“I apologize for showing up so late. Things got a bit hectic, but Prowl’s on his way and won’t be a problem for the time being."

The field medic cast the engineer a curt nod and took a hold of the scanner he had given to Wheeljack. With a quick glance in Smokescreen and Tracer’s direction and a slight smile Axle looked down at the scanner. He let out a low grunt while his actuators danced over the screen bringing up all the information he needed in order to determine his next course of action. And from the looks of the results a deep processor scan would be needed.

Axle quickly pocketed the smaller scanner and removed the device he had used on Prowl earlier during the tactician’s check-up. He made sure not to reveal the device as the look of it would disturb all but the most battle hardened warriors.

“Okay, Tracer. I’m sure that Wheeljack has told you that there is 13% damage in the right quadrant of your processor. But there were some other results; unfortunately I’ll need to take a quick look in order to determine just what those results consist of."

That said Axle worked his way around the workbench where she and Smokescreen were seated and stopped when he was standing behind the scout.

With his hand on the back of her head Axle gently pushed until her chin was resting on her chest. She complied with no hesitation and no complaint. He then quickly located the port that he would need to connect the device’s wire up with it.

“Now hold still this won’t take long."

Tracer let out a quivering sigh as she asked the field medic the one thing that was on her mind.

“Will it hur…..aghhhhhhhhh!"

The connection was made before her question could even be completed. Axle shook his head and placed his free hand against her back pressing her forward in order to keep her from leaning back and raising her head.

“Yes. It’s gonna hurt like the pit."

Her cries died down as the device began to work through her processor taking readings and copying files. The pain remained causing her to pull in a series of deep and heavy intakes trying hard not to let out another pain filled cry.

“Hang on hon, it’s almost over."

Finally, after what seemed like vorns Axle disconnected the wire and stepped back away from the workbench where he walked around and stopped right next to Wheeljack. Like before the medic’s actuators flew over the keys and tallied up the results of all of the readings gathered.

At the same time Tracer lifted her head and gave out a low tired groan. Her hand moved to her head giving it a gentle rub as she watched Axle run through all of the readings. It was when a quizzical expression formed on his face that she began to panic.

“I just performed a deep processor scan so that I could determine what else was found on the base scan. According to these readings you actually have 15% degradation of your processor."

Axle stepped away from the engineer and approached Tracer still seated on the workbench beside Smokescreen.

“The 13% found earlier was located only in the right quadrant. The other 2% is in the left quadrant. Now, Syk only affects the right…13%. Left…2%...that’s trauma. Tracer, what happened? What caused this damage?"

Tracer stared at the medic long and hard before she slid off the bench, releasing Smokescreen’s hand in the process. She paced for several moments before she finally stopped and looked at the three mechs.

“It was nothing."

The concerned look on Axle’s face dropped and he stalked forward causing the femme to take a quick step away.

“Don’t lie to me! I want a straight answer! Now, what the hell happened?!"

She cast each person in the lab an apologetic look before hugging herself around the waist. The scout averted her eyes and gave them what they wanted to hear.

“ECT."

The deep furrow in Axle’s brow vanished as his optics widened and his posture straightened. He stared at the femme for a long moment before he reigned in his emotions.

“How often?"

“Four times a day."

How many days?"

She tightened her arms frightened of what they all might think of her.

“Every day for 13 vorns."

Axle ran his right hand down the length of his face and let out a groan.

“Rodion?"

“Yes."

It was all he needed to know. He turned back around and took hold of Wheeljack’s arm tugging the scientist along with him to a more private location.

“We need to talk."

While Axle and Wheeljack retreated to a corner of the lab Tracer lowered her arms and let her shoulders slump in defeat. She had tried for so long to keep her past in the past, but in just a matter of a few cycles everything had fallen apart.

“I was going to tell you…it’s just…I’m sorry, Smokescreen."
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Mon Sep 03, 2012 2:41 pm

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

“It’s large enough," Wheeljack replied to Tracer’s comment regarding the 13% processor degradation as he shifted his optics from Smokescreen over to the troubled femme. “And that’s not including the optical and vocal damage, but that’s not as grave a concern to me right now." Before the mechanical engineer could say any more, the doors slid open behind him and Axle entered the room, apologizing for being late in his return from the Guardian. “No worries, Axle. Glad to hear that Prowl won’t be a problem. Here’s the scanner and the data therein," the scientist said as he handed the device over to the field medic and watched as the former doctor studied the results before going to work on performing a more in depth scan of Tracer’s processor.

The pain she experienced during the procedure seemed to be excruciating, but thankfully Smokescreen was right beside the drug addled femme, holding her hand the entire time and hoping that it would be enough to comfort her. “You can do it, Trace. Like he said, it’s almost over," the rallybot whispered to her in a soothing tone. Smokey did not like seeing Tracer in so much pain. In fact, he hated it. However, the troubled femme had been in pain for most of her existence due to her condition and addiction. So, what was a little more at this point? At least, now she would receive the help that she desperately needed in order to stop her suffering forever.

Once the second procedure was over, Axle moved away which allowed Smokescreen to place his other arm around Tracer’s shoulders to provide additional comfort to her. “You did good, kid," the diversion expert said, smiling at the clearly exhausted femme as the discomfort she felt began to subside. The unpainted mech kept his optics on her visage until his attention was drawn away by Axle’s approach and explanation of the newest set of test results. Unlike Wheeljack, the field medic was more than forthcoming with his findings, but they were not what Smokey had expected to hear. Not at all.

Apparently, there was an additional 2% damage located in the left quadrant of her processor, damage that was clearly trauma and not caused by exposure to the Syk. Smokescreen listened intently as Axle asked Tracer about what had happened to her that would’ve caused such harm. Initially, she didn’t respond and simply released the rallybot’s hand before sliding off the workbench and pacing back and forth in front of them. The lying femme then tried to evade the subject all together, but the field medic did not accept that and pushed harder, demanding that she tell him the truth immediately. When she finally relented, the diversionary tactician was shocked by what she divulged. Even Wheeljack appeared stunned by the revelation before being quickly pulled away into a far corner of the room by an agitated field medic.

“I can’t believe it. You were subjected to ECT?" Smokescreen asked as he cast a stern glare directly at the blue and white femme. The rallybot knew that ECT involved jolting a processor with electrical currents in the hopes of curing whatever was emotionally wrong with a patient. It was an archaic method by modern standards, but one that had been widely used in the past as an acceptable procedure if not a torturous one. Unfortunately, it would also likely complicate things gravely during the recovery process of someone addicted to a narcotic like Syk.

“So, you were going to tell me, huh? When exactly, before or after your processor was completely fried?!" The diversion expert questioned Tracer further, raising his vocalizer in the process as he got down off the makeshift med berth and hobbled precariously towards her. “Did you think I wouldn’t understand or that I would judge you harshly? After all that I’ve done for you, risking everything to save you, and you still couldn’t tell me the truth about something this important that could affect your recovery or even kill you?! I mean, I just gave you the chance a few moments ago if there was anything else and you just avoided answering. Haven’t I won your trust yet or do I have to die for good before I’ve sacrificed enough?!"

Smokescreen’s internal fans had kicked in to high gear in an attempt to help cool down his newborn systems before they overheated under the strain. The diversion expert placed one hand onto the edge of a nearby table to prevent himself from collapsing while keeping his optics locked on those of the drug addicted femme. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me everything! In fact, I could’ve killed you had I not found out about this! So, one last time, are there any other secrets you’ve been keeping from me, Tracer? And you can start by telling me what Rodion is. I want to know everything now before I waste any more effort on someone would doesn’t seem to think that I’m worth confiding in!"

Meanwhile, Wheeljack had allowed Axle to guide him to a more secluded location within his lab in order to talk about the latest twist in the ongoing saga of Tracer the drug-addicted femme. The mechanical engineer was beside himself, not knowing how they should proceed from this point on. Hopefully, the former doctor had the answers. “This just keeps getting worse and worse, Axle. I’ve heard about ECT before, but I’ve never actually met anyone that had been subjected to such barbaric treatment. I can’t believe she was put through that. No wonder she doesn’t like tests."

Wheeljack crossed his arms over his chest armor and regarded the field medic with a worried expression on his shieldless faceplate. “This is going to complicate any sort of recovery Smokey has in mind for her, won’t it? Is there any hope for her at all or are we just wasting our time now that we know about the ECT? Because, I’ll tell you this much, trying to convince the naked lover-bot over there that she can’t be fixed will be an uphill battle the likes of which neither one of us has ever seen before."
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Mon Sep 03, 2012 7:45 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Wheeljack’s Lab

The questions she had answered in quick succession were something she had never thought she’d have to do. Not now…and she wished not ever. But now there was nothing left…no cushion to buffer her sorted past against her hopeful future. There was nothing but suspicion and hurt, and none of it was hers.

The sheer anger in Smokescreen’s normally calm and soothing voice had Tracer cringing away from him with her head held low in shame. This was worse than anything she had ever been through…even worse than the therapy itself.

Tracer stepped further from the irate mech and wrapped her arms around her waist; it was all she could do to keep from breaking down.

The scout, shaking and at a loss for the proper words finally raised her head so she could look Smokescreen in the optics.

“I didn’t tell you because I was scared to death of what you might think of me. I was scared to death that you would look at me like all the others have. And no, I didn’t think you’d understand. After all you never knew I was on Syk until recently. If I told you about…the therapy you would have asked questions as to why I went through it. That would have led to more question and more question."

Tracer dropped her hands to her sides and set an angry scowl on her face as she moved in closer to the rallybot.

“You don’t know what it was like before I met you! I had nothing! I was…am…defective and everywhere I went…everyone I met treated me like a diseased empty! I was avoided. All I wanted was to be like everyone else, but I couldn’t have that."

She crossed her arms over her chest this time as she turned her shoulder to him.

“The treatment I needed I couldn’t afford. Once the word got out that a war was eminent I had no other choice but to do what I could to get the help I wanted…it turned out it wasn’t the help I needed."

The scout let out a heavy sigh and raised her head, her optics turned to the ceiling. She took in the sickening color for a moment before lowering her head and turning her back to Smokescreen.

“Rodion was a cesspool but it was all I had. I practically crawled to the institute there. I thought for sure they could help me and it wouldn’t cost me a thing."

There was long pause followed by a low sarcastic chuckle. Tracer then looked over her shoulder but the anger had melted away and was replaced by a desperate look calling for the diversion expert to try and understand.

“It was cheap but it was experimental. Four times a day they took me for sessions. Four times a day every day for thirteen vorns and it still didn’t work. I knew that after the first five vorns. When I told them that I wanted out they ignored me. They played on my fears that without their help I’d be nothing more than refuge. So they continued…I struggled sometimes but it didn’t matter. I was dragged away for my scheduled therapy and dragged back to my room."

That same glare and that same scowl returned with renewed vigor as Tracer stalked even closer to the unpainted mech trying to steady himself against whatever he could find.

“I burdened you by telling you about my addiction to Syk and I saw what you went through. You put yourself ahead of me and I nearly lost you because of that! I don’t want that happen again. So, no, I didn’t want to confined in you about this. You’ve been through too much already. I couldn’t stand putting even more on your shoulders."

“You’ve never known me before I was hooked. All you’ve ever seen and known of me is this. Normal…mentally. And that’s all I ever wanted. I had to go through cheap experimental therapy sessions just to find out what one drug could do in one dose. Everything…everything spiraled. Nothing will ever be the same. As soon as I’m off Syk I’ll be back to where I started…unable to function like a normal Cybertronian. A worthless-defective-diseased empty!"

The last words that escaped her vocal processor were nearly screamed out at the rallybot but with her vocal damage several parts were laced with static. It didn’t matter as long as her point got across. Tracer quickly stalked off away from Smokescreen also keeping her distance from both Wheeljack and Axle. Now it was time to think…if such a thing was possible after such an intense moment.

Wheeljack offered no resistance to Axle’s guidance to a quiet corner so he could have an uninterrupted discussion with the engineer. The revelation was a shock as Axle was familiar with the location that the therapy had been conducted. He had always been told that the volunteers that had entered the Rodion institute had seldom left with all of their mental faculties still intact. In fact the last he had heard was that several of those who had sought help wound up as nothing more than drones.

“Worse isn’t the half of it Wheeljack."

Axle took a quick look over his shoulder and watched for an astrosecond as both mech and femme began the throes of an argument. From what the medic could tell it was probably their first one. Axle quickly shook his head and turned his attention back to the white mech standing before him.

“You’ve never met any of them because not all of them were released capable of even thinking for themselves. The treatment was cheap and they prayed on the desperate who had no other alternatives. Unfortunately none of the treatments administered at the Rodion institute were therapeutic. In fact every one of them were barbaric."

“Just before the war broke out and the influx of new patients at the institute peeked it was shut down. Something to do with utilizing the staff and equipment for the war effort. It’s a shame to admit it but the start of the war was the best thing to happen for those patients. They were transferred to the Iacon institute where they finally got the care they needed. I wonder if Tracer was one of them because after a while there were a number of patients both from Rodion and Iacon that left the institute and wound up on the streets using narcotics to self-medicate. It seems like the only explanation as to how she became hooked. Word of mouth through the institute…convince your doctor the therapy is working and boom, you’re discharged and out on the streets."

Axle thought about everything that had transpired over the past few cycles and tried to put everything into perspective. A very trying task.

“No, no. With the degradation at 2% we should still be capable of doing what we plan on doing, but we’re just going to have to be much more careful. The doses will have to be smaller. Which means she’ll go through longer withdrawal symptoms which will also be more intense."

The field medic placed his elbow in his left and with his right hand stroked his chin in thought.

“I’m gonna make this happen….we’re gonna make this happen. My only concern is what happens when she’s finally off the drug. She’s not like the rest of us as far as her mental state is concerned. None of us know what she’s like without the narcotic…not even Smokescreen. What do we do for her after she’s not “normal” anymore?"

Axle took another quick glance over his shoulder and noticed both love struck ‘Bots were now yelling at one another. Not a good thing for either of them.

“Oh perfect. We better get over there before he drops to the floor unconscious and she drops to the floor convulsing."
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Wed Sep 05, 2012 6:10 pm

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

Smokescreen tried to calm down as he listened to Tracer explain why she had not confided in him in regards to the experimental treatment she had suffered through at the Rodion Institute. The rallybot had only heard whispers of such places, but he had never actually been to one or met anybody who had ever been a patient in a slag hole like she was describing. It sounded horrible on every level and the fact that she was forced to continue her treatments against her will was absolutely spark breaking to the unpainted mech.

The troubled femme’s desperate story slowly turned Smokescreen’s anger into sorrow for her. Things were so much clearer to him now that she had filled in the blanks. The rallybot only wished she had done so without his prodding and just trusted him from the beginning of all this. But, who was he to judge her for the lies she had told when Smokey, himself, was the best liar of them all? His cheating, his gambling, his illegal street racing - was all that any better than the lies and half truths that the blue and white scout had told? No, not really. In fact, Tracer’s reasoning for being deceitful was far more rational and sound than anything the diversion expert could come up with for his past questionable behavior. Smokey had acted the way that he did because he had enjoyed it, not because he was forced to. He was having fun while Tracer was in constant suffering.

“I had no idea," Smokescreen muttered quietly once Tracer had finished her increasingly loud tirade and finally moved away from him again. “But you still should’ve told me. I know I’m one of the physically weaker Autobots around, but my shoulders can still handle more than you think. What if I ended up hurting you while trying to help you? Not knowing about something like this could have made your processor damage even worse and then where would that leave us?! You’d be dead and I would have done all this for nothing!"

The rallybot took a step away from the table he had been leaning on and tried to approach the drug addled femme. However, their argument had already taken its toll on his newborn systems and Smokescreen could already feel the effects of such an emotional confrontation with someone he cared so deeply about. “I know I’m not the most truthful mech in the galaxy, but we have to at least be honest with one another.....if my plan to save you is going to....work," the diversion expert continued as he stumbled a bit, his weakening legs finally giving out beneath him. Falling to his knees, Smokey managed to grab a hold of the makeshift med berth he and Tracer had previously been sitting on which thankfully eased the impact on his joints.

The diversionary tactician then placed both hands on his folded knees and gazed up at the troubled femme with an exhausted expression across his visage. “I’m sorry, Tracer. I just don’t want you to suffer anymore. That’s all. And you're not a worthless, defective or diseased empty. Not to me. Not ever."
_________

Wheeljack listened carefully as Axle explained to him more about the barbaric treatments that went on at the Rodion Institute, which was thankfully shut down once the war broke out. Many of the patients were transferred to Iacon and some eventually ended up on the streets where they got hooked on narcotics like Syk. The mechanical engineer nodded in agreement that Tracer was likely one of those who got let out of the Iaconian facility on false pretenses.

“Yes, it seems like the logical conclusion to draw, Axle." Wheeljack said, sparing a quick glance over at the star struck couple before returning his attention back to the field medic. “I’m guessing that after she joined the Autobots, she eventually found her way to Oil Slick, or perhaps she even knew him before the war started. Either way, their tenuous dealer/client relationship has lasted quite some time it seems. At least, until recently. Heh."

The resident mad scientist was pleased to hear that the troubled femme was not a lost cause. The additional 2% degradation only meant that they would have to proceed more carefully with smaller doses. However, the greater concern was once she was completely weaned off the Syk. How would she act and could she be controlled in some way? “I doubt Smokescreen has thought that far ahead. He’s more focused right now on getting her off the narcotic, which I can understand. But, like you just said, how will she behave once her systems are clean? We’re basically replacing one problem with another one entirely." Wheeljack stopped for a moment to think, hoping a solution to the eventually issue would present itself. However, the white mech’s thoughts were cut short when Axle mentioned that the pair were now shouting at each other. “Terrific. As the humans would say, I guess the honeymoon is over."

As Wheeljack moved towards the arguing lovers, he saw Smokescreen stumble at one point and fall to his knees. The engineer’s pace quickened considerably at the sight of his friend on the floor, reaching the former gambler's side in mere astroseconds. “Smokey, are you okay?" The scientist asked as he knelt down and placed a hand on the diversion expert’s shoulder plate.

“Sure thing, ‘Jack," the tired rallybot responded, glancing over at the inventor. “Never...better. Just a lover’s quarrel....that’s all. Heh."

“Yeah, I can see that," Wheeljack responded to his ailing comrade as he looked back at the field medic with a concerned expression. "Axle, I think we may need to get him back into my CR pod where he can continue to heal and rest properly without any more emotional altercations or other distractions." The scientist then paused before glancing over at Tracer, being careful not to give her an accusatory look. “I’m no medic, but I feel it’s for the best."
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Marcus Rush » Thu Sep 06, 2012 2:44 pm

Weapon: Automatic Acid-Pellet Gun
Science Lab

Ultra Magnus stepped over towards a cluttered work bench and placed his hand next to a pair of empty beakers. His optics faded briefly as he absorbed the information, or lack there of. It wasn't much to go on to be sure and hardly enough to warrant the request that he knew was due to follow sometime in the near future.

And like clock work, Perceptor did not fail to disappoint. The soldier scooped up one of the empty transparent aluminum beakers and brought it level with his gaze, allowing Perceptor's image to become distorted by the impromptu filter.

"You are not exactly giving me a enough details to warrant such a leap in testing. I can gather that at some point this could very well be used as some sort of fuel source, but I am concerned on how it has performed in the simulations."

He set the beaker down and let his expression soften. A great many questions floated to the surface as he read the scientist's movements. Magnus still had to deal with the dispatching of the scouting party to Earth, as well as the details that had come to him via Prowl regarding the outbreak of Cosmic Rust. "I am sorry Perceptor, I cannot authorize testing on fellow Autobots at this time, even on yourself. At least until your work has been reviewed by Wheeljack and the rest of the Autobot Corps of Engineers. Once their recommendations are in, then I will reconsider... with the proper precautions in place of course."

Magnus reached out a hand and rested it on his friend's shoulder. "I do not want to risk the lives of my comrades unnecessarily. And while this may very well be a mineral that could turn the tide of the war, without the proper precautions in place, without the proper protocols established, one test could very well kill you. I know Prime would not allow it, and in his spirit I must follow that model." He gave the plated shoulder a reassuring squeeze before allowing his arm to fall to his side. "There is a scouting mission slated for Earth. I will have the team's sensors tuned to locate more samples of this ore in order to bolster our testing materials."

Pivoting on his heel, Ultra Magnus headed for the exit. "Keep me posted on the progress Perceptor. I am sure we'll be able to crack this code swiftly, with the right amount of teamwork and investment." With that he disappeared into the halls.

Halls of the Ark-22

Ultra Magnus paused as the doors to the Science Lab closed tight behind him. He was tempted to order the computer on board ship to begin a constant surveillance on Perceptor. For some reason he had this feeling that the scientist would not take his orders to heart and instead take things into his own hands. Still he trusted Perceptor to make the right call when it came to these matters. After all it was he who had served the Iacon Science Academy well all those deca cycles ago. What a way to get his first day in office started.

He rejected the idea and instead began to make his way towards the bridge and thus the primary observation lounge of the Ark. His mind now filled with the five major matters of the day, as he knew them to be. He still had to address this modified Hot Rod character, make that six. Deal with Grimlock's theft, monitor the crisis of morale across the battle group, dispatch the Scouting Mission to Earth and its subsequent fall out from the engineering perspective, deal with the Cosmic Rust fiasco, make sure Perceptor's work was thoroughly vetted before proceeding to the testing phase and finally Rodimus. Yeah, Ultra Magnus was already beginning to regret the agreement he had made with Prowl about ascending the ranks.

Stepping through a tight bulkhead hatch leading into a wider gallery in the heart of the vessel spine. Its wide corridors capable of handling two lanes of traffic, one leading in both directions. To Ultra Magnus, it was strangely quiet. It was not as if he expected the bustle of a major megalopolis such as Altihex or Iacon, but he had hoped to see some life within the large multi-purpose vessel. It was yet another testament to war time. Autobots were in the same boat as the Decepticons, stretched to the limits with very little in the way of troop replenishment methods in sight.

Watching briefly as the first sign of life appeared momentarily near the edge of the Engineering Block, Ultra Magnus let a small smile crawl across his face. At least the ship wasn't totally abandoned. Of course that would soon change once Kup was finished with his arduous assignment of determining who would best staff both vessels. Absorbing the cold oxygen laced gases that were filtered through life support, Magnus stepped into the near abandoned highway and allowed the movement to come into focus. It was coming from Wheeljack's Laboratory. The smiled faded as he turned his back and began walking towards the bridge. While he had details to discuss with the inventor, they could wait until the briefing was concluded. And for him, that was where the priority lay. Get the Autobots planet side, and begin the proper steps to make the planet free of Decepticon infiltration and influence. That was the daunting task that he would assume as Prime would have wished and not for the first time his mind wandered to his fallen missing brother. "Where are you Optimus?"
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Thu Sep 06, 2012 9:03 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Wheeljack’s Lab

Although she had walked away from Smokescreen she still hadn’t put too much distance between her and him. She was angry, as she knew he was, but she had no desire to be too away from him. Tracer had turned to face him just in time to see the rallybot take a step away from the table he was using as leverage and try to make his way over to her.

She watched intently while he stood and admitted that he might not have been the best of all the Autobots but he was devoted. It was true. No matter what happened or what he had done in his past he was still willing to give of himself in order to make her and his friends happy. For that she was truly grateful.

Tracer’s features softened and her tense posture finally relaxed. But that changed as Smokescreen attempted to take another step forward and stumbled. He landed on both knees before her. Tracer pursed her lips into a tight line and looked down at him.

It was his admitting that he didn’t want her to suffer anymore that nearly caused her to drop to her knees in front of him but she was beaten to the punch by the arrival of Wheeljack who had raced over to his friend’s side to make sure Smokescreen was alright. Tracer hadn’t reacted to the rallybot’s excuse concerning their argument…as far as she was concerned it was something that could be worked out in private.
____

Axle’s head rose slightly as he looked down in Wheeljack’s direction. The engineer was next to Smokescreen and urging him to take some time to rest and get back into the CR pod. It was a sound idea and something the field medic would like to see implemented.

“I’d have to agree with that sentiment, Wheeljack."

Axle took a quick glance in Tracer’s direction before he looked down at the kneeling form of the diversion expert.

“I am a medic and time in that CR pod is for the best. So up and in!"

He sent a gesture toward Wheeljack letting the white mech know that the idea was sound and doctor’s orders were given.
_____

The conversation between Wheeljack and Axle went ignored by the femme while she kept her optics locked on the mech before her.

It had gotten uniquely quiet in the lab. Without tearing her eyes away from him Tracer dropped to her knees and gently placed her hands over Smokescreen’s. She sat for a moment and searched his features. They had known one another for centuries but there were still things that he knew nothing about. That had to change.

“You’re right. I should have told you. And I do trust you…I trust you implicitly. But you have to understand…I wanted my past…just that…to stay in my past. I never meant to hurt you."

Tracer shook her head as she lowered her optics to their hands resting on his legs.

“I’m not going to be the same person you know. When we met I was already using. You’ve never known me…you’ve never seen me the way I really am."

She raised her head and flashed him a weary smile while she gave him hands a gentle squeeze. It was time to stop. He needed his rest and she needed some time to think.

“I think Wheeljack and Axle are right. You need more time in that pod to recover."

Her smile grew wider while she raised her right hand and laid it gently against his left cheek. She waited a moment taking in his features and finally locking optics with his. She rose up slightly on her knees and leaned forward pressing her lips to his in a slow passionate kiss. There would be time to talk later.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Sat Sep 08, 2012 10:46 am

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack nodded at Axle when the field medic gave him the go-ahead to get Smokescreen up and into the CR pod in order to help speed his recovery along. The mechanical engineer then looked back at the rallybot only to find that Tracer was now there, kneeling in front of him. As she spoke to the diversion expert, ‘Jack glanced away at the floor to give them some semblance of privacy even though he could still hear what was being said. The engineer paid the whispered words no mind as the concerns of a love-struck couple were not his own.

Smokescreen listened as Tracer knelt down and told him that he had been right. The troubled femme promised that she did, in fact, trust him and that she just didn’t want to revisit her dark past as it was an unpleasant one she'd rather forget. Smokey now understood her reasoning, his anger gone as her words touched his audio receptors. She then warned him that she would act very different once the Syk was expelled from her systems. It would be a side of her that the diversion expert had never seen before. The fear in her vocal processor was clearly evident.

“We’ll find a way to help you, Tracer," Smokescreen vowed as she looked back up into his optics while her hands remained on top of his own. “I’m not afraid of the real you. Someday, what I see now, will be the real you." He squeezed her hands back as she then agreed with both Wheeljack and Axle that he needed more time in the CR pod. The rallybot was going to respond but was quickly cut off when Tracer placed her left hand against his cheek plate. He knew what was coming as he’d seen this look on a femme’s visage before. It had been a long time ago, but it was a look one never forgot.

Finally, after what seemed like a vorn of her gazing into his optics, Tracer leaned in and gave Smokescreen a passionate kiss on his mouth. Wheeljack couldn’t help but glance over at them for a very brief moment, shaking his head slightly at the loving display of affection. The scientist waited patiently for the pair to finish their embrace, but when it didn’t come quite fast enough, the white mech had no choice but to end it, himself.

“Okay, you two, we gotta get Smokey into the CR pod now before his systems shut down," Wheeljack interjected, not wanting to come across as being rude.

Hearing the engineer’s plea, Smokescreen slowly pulled back, not wanting the kiss to end but knowing that it had to. “All right, ‘Jack, we’re done," the diversion expert replied without taking his optics off of Tracer. The rallybot smiled at her again as he felt Wheeljack grab a hold of his right arm and help him up to his feet.

"Tracer, grab his other arm please," the Autobot inventor asked as he motioned towards the CR pod. “Thankfully, we don’t have far to go." With the troubled femme’s assistance, Wheeljack guided Smokescreen over to the pod and held onto him tightly as the unpainted mech carefully stepped into the open CR unit. Once the rallybot was back inside and secured, the engineer looked down at him and smiled. “Comfy?"

“I guess," Smokescreen responded as he adjusted his position within the small space that surrounded him. For a moment, Smokey wished this was a full sized chamber where there would be more room, but at least he’d be in deep stasis for the duration of his continued healing. “Will I finally be painted when I come out?"

“Is that all you care about, Smokey?"

“Well, no, but it’s kind of embarrassing to be walking around naked in front of Tracer, you know?"

Wheeljack cast a quick glance over at the drug-addled femme before returning his disbelieving gaze back at Smokescreen. Running his hand down his faceplate, the inventor shook his head and let out a chuckle. “Yes, Smokes, you’ll be fully painted and you’ll have your precious 38s on your door wings, too. Happy?"

“Yes, thanks."

“Good," Wheeljack replied as he grabbed a hold of the pod’s door with his right hand. “Now, lie still. You’ll be good as new before you know it."

“Wait!" Smokescreen exclaimed, raising his vocals slightly. He opened up a small compartment in his forearm and pulled out the vile of Syk he had been carrying since picking it up from the workbench earlier. “Take this. See if you can make more of it for me. It’s essential for Tracer’s own recovery."

Accepting the vile from the tenacious rallybot, Wheeljack let out a quiet sigh, having known that this was coming. “I’ll do what I can, Smokey, but I’m not a chemist."

“I know. Maybe you have a replicator around here?"

“I don’t know. I have something like that. Maybe," Wheeljack conceded as he held on to the vile in his free hand. “I’ll need to modify it some since it was originally designed to replicate solid matter and not a chemical."

“That’s fine, ‘Jack. Whatever you can do, I appreciate it."

“You’ll do more than appreciate it. You’ll owe me this time!"

“I understand," Smokescreen replied with a nod before laying his tired cranium back into the proper position.

Without wasting any more time, Wheeljack finally closed the pod’s door, allowing a hiss of air to escape. He then immediately set the repair cycle and activated the CR unit. “There, he’s all set," the mechanical engineer stated as he looked back over at the love-struck femme. "Tracer, I need you to keep watch over him. Make sure nothing goes wrong. Okay? I’m sure you’ll have no problem handling that."

With that said, Wheeljack turned his attention back to Axle. “If there’s nothing else you need me to do, I’m going to get to work on my replicator. I’ll see if I can adjust it to work on a narcotic like Syk." Looking down at his side, the engineer opened up his left hand and held up the vile Smokescreen had just given him. ‘Jack studied the contents for a moment before offering it to the field medic. “You want to take a look at this, Axle? You said before that you have some knowledge of chemistry right? Any help whatsoever would be greatly appreciated."
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Sun Sep 09, 2012 11:14 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Wheeljack’s Lab

Had she been even been given the chance Tracer would have extended their kiss for far longer than they had been allotted. As it was Wheeljack was right and so when Smokescreen finally did pull away she relented and leaned back into her previous position. As with the rallybot, Tracer too kept her optics fixated on the mech before her. If he was to be confined within that CR pod she wanted to be sure she studied every nuance of all of his features.

From the corner of her optic Tracer could just make out the grey hand of Wheeljack as he gently wrapped it around Smokescreen’s arm and helped the unpainted mech back up to his feet. Before she was even asked the blue and white scout got back to her feet and took hold of Smokescreen’s left arm supporting the mech as best she could. He was not heavy but with the Syk already running its course the strength she once possessed was steadily depleting.

The femme had remained quiet as the two good friends conversed about what Wheeljack conjectured as nothing more than something cosmetic. Smokescreen, on the other hand was adamant that his paintjob be completed as soon as possible. The comment concerning his walking around naked in front of her was just too humorous not to comment on.

“I won’t tell anyone if you won’t."

Tracer let out a quiet chuckle as she looked down at Smokescreen who was still trying to settle into the tight confines of the CR pod. How Wheeljack could stand using that thing was beyond her. As it was the rallybot had to not only contend with the slim side, but also the fact that he had barely enough room to lie down what with the space needed to flatten his doorwings. She could only imagine just how uncomfortable he must be.

After the exchange between the two old friends and when Wheeljack had taken hold of the pod’s door, Tracer took a step back ready to watch as stasis took Smokescreen away temporarily. The sudden cry from the pod had her moving forward again…her hands gripping the opening. It didn’t surprise he that the mech that had always taken care of her was still doing so even when it was he who needed to be taken care of.

Tracer paid no attention to the vial that had exchanged hands…instead she kept her sole focus on Smokescreen. Even as the door was finally closed over the prone ‘Bot Tracer kept watch. She placed a hand carefully over the glass that was fixed directly over Smokescreen’s upper body. Even if Wheeljack hadn’t suggested it she would still have remained behind to watch over him.

“Don’t worry, Wheeljack. I’m not going anywhere until he gets out."

She spared a quick glance over her shoulder at the engineer whose form was already deteriorating into a slight blurry smudge in her optics. Tracer looked back down to the pod and ran her fingers lightly across the glass surface a delicate smile on her face.
Axle had been watching the whole display and had kept his vocalizer on mute for as long as he possibly could. As touching as the scene had been it didn’t get any of them closer to a solution to the problem at hand.

“Ugh. Those two have got it bad."

The medic shook his head slightly…a slight smirk plastered on his face. He looked up at Wheeljack and widened his smile. They had all been through a lot, but none more than the engineer. Not only was he thrust into helping save his good friend’s life but he was now thrust into saving another life.

“No, ‘Jack. You can go ahead and get to work on your replicator."

Axle then took the proffered vial and went through the same motions as the white mech before him…the field medic lifted the container and swirled the liquid around before lowering it and looking back to Wheeljack.

“Yeah. Basic as in whatever was taught at the DMF. There was never much offered in terms of major medical chemistry. Deltaran Medical Facility…a great place to work...just don’t count on learning anything useful. Heh."

The field medic let out a disgruntled sigh as he moved to a free spot on the workbench and went straight to work rummaging through the contents of the storage bins and cabinets for everything he would need in order to figure out just what the concoction consisted of.

“Let’s see here. Ah! You do have one."

Axle took hold of the electron microscope that had been stored neatly in the back of one of the storage cabinets that sat at the back of the lab. Some more searching and Axle had gathered a table full of equipment…some would need to be used as improvised tools, others were just what he had been looking for.

A sample of the Syk was taken and promptly mounted on a slide and placed beneath the scope’s lenses. Axle then took a look at exactly what he had.

“You know, I never really asked you if I could actually call you ‘Jack, Wheeljack. I mean you and I had never met before our…well, before all this."

He gave a slight shrug while his optics were still glued to the scope’s end. The determination of which compounds that made up the narcotic wouldn’t take very long…it was the synthesis, or rather the reverse engineering…unless Wheeljack had gotten his replicator to work…that would take a fair amount of time.

“Well now. This is really…disturbing. That explains the deterioration of the optic housing. A derivative of fluoroantimonic acid."

Axle let out a low sigh. The findings were not what he had expected. The mixture of compounds was not what the field medic had wanted to find, but they would have to work with it.

“Looks like there are between two to three varieties of circuit speeders, and that’s not including the actual Syk. Damn, this one might be a hallucinogen. I’m guessing the dose she took before arriving back onboard didn’t contain it."

Axle pulled away from the scope and took a hard look in Wheeljack’s direction. The scowl on the medic’s face conveyed all the ire that had recently welled up within him.

“I take it Oil Slick’s been her dealer since she began using. The ‘Con’s sick enough to include acid in his little compound experiments I wouldn’t put it past him to add the hallucinogen and the additional circuit speeders."

His features softened as he took a gentle hold of the vial and looked back to the engineer.

“Wheeljack, we better get this right the first time. We get anything wrong and the mixture is off in any way…or the remaining sample is lost...then your friend is bound to lose his girlfriend. That doesn’t even include the possibility that if we do get it right and she’s weaned off…I can’t say for sure how she’d take it."

Axle ran his hand down the length of his face and stood up from the stool he had been occupying. With one hand rubbing at his chin he gestured toward the pod and Tracer who was still poised over the glass.

“I don’t know anything about her underlying condition but if she was hell bent to seek out help at the Rodion Institute than I can assure you that it’s serious. No Syk might mean…well desperate people usually resort to desperate and permanent measures to stop their suffering."
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Thu Sep 13, 2012 8:40 pm

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

“They sure do," Wheeljack replied to Axle’s comment regarding Smokescreen and Tracer before his face shield slid shut again, covering a grinning visage from sight. “Good thing Smokey didn’t die or there’d be no helping her no matter what we tried." The mechanical engineer then nodded as the field medic gave him the go ahead to begin working on his replicator. First, however, he needed to find it amongst all of his tools, equipment and other assorted gadgets, both completed and half-finished inventions of his own making. It shouldn’t be too difficult, however, as the device in question is not very small, but it’s also not huge, either.

As Axle commented about the Deltaran Medical Facility where he picked up his basic knowledge of chemistry from, Wheeljack moved across his lab to a far corner and began searching through one of his storage closets. Moving a variety of things aside, some of which was just useless junk, 'Jack finally found what he was looking for. “Ah, there you are!" The scientist exclaimed as he reached down and carefully lifted the portable replicator up in his arms and carried it back out into the main lab area. It was heavier than he had remembered, but it was nothing that the white mech couldn’t handle.

Placing the cylinder-shaped unit onto the floor, Wheeljack squatted next to it for a moment, carefully looking it over for any signs of outward damage or decay from being in storage for so long. It appeared to be in perfect working order, but that was of little comfort as the device was originally designed to replicate tools and machine parts, not chemicals or drugs of any kind. The engineer would have to modify it considerably for it to have the ability to create more Syk for the drug-addled femme.

Hearing the field medic ask him about his nick name, Wheeljack glanced over at the former doctor and smiled under his face shield. “Of course, you can call me ‘Jack. Everyone does." The scientist chuckled before returning his attention to the replicator, accessing a side panel and taking a peek within to see exactly what needed to be re-routed, added or subtracted, if he was going to make this idea work. It would be difficult but not impossible, or so the engineer thought.

While Wheeljack studied the internal workings of the replicator, he had one audio receptor tuned in to everything Axle was saying regarding the Syk, Oil Slick and how they had to get the concoction absolutely perfect if Tracer was to benefit from the drug at all. Otherwise, the troubled femme would likely die, and it would be Smokescreen that was left without his mate. “Well, I don’t know how long he’s been her dealer, but Slick’s one sick fragger that’s for certain. Regardless, if this drug needs to be perfect, then I’ll need you to identify every ingredient within that vile, no matter how small, so that I may program each element into my replicator here. I’ll also need to know the exact percentage of each component in order to avoid an overdose."

The mechanical engineer paused for a moment to consider what he was about to suggest. “Although, if there is a hallucinogen included like you say, then perhaps we should consider leaving that part out. I mean, she’s clearly not hallucinating now, so she doesn’t really need that bit for the drug to be effective. I just think it's a bad idea to give her something that will make her see things that aren't there. She's got enough problems as is. Of course, it’s just an idea. Whatever you think is best, Axle."

With that said, Wheeljack lifted the replicator off the ground and carried it over to the nearest workbench where he gently placed it down. Now sitting at chest level, the cylinder-shaped device was in a perfect position for the Autobot scientist to do his thing. He waited to begin, however, as the field medic expressed more concerns regarding how Tracer will act once she is finally weaned off the Syk. It was certainly a concern in the back of his processor, but not one the inventor wanted to think about right now.

"I'll worry about that when or if it happens. For now, I'm just going to focus on reconfiguring my replicator so that it can handle chemical reproduction as well as solid matter while you’re working on dissecting that sickening brew," the engineer informed his medical comrade as he pulled up a stool and sat down in front of the unit. Wheeljack then opened the side access panel once more and grabbed a couple of items from his trusty toolkit before going to work on the reconfiguration that would change the very nature of the replicator to suit his current needs. Or, as was the case in this situation, Tracer’s needs.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Marcus Rush » Sat Sep 15, 2012 8:24 pm

Weapon: Automatic Acid-Pellet Gun
Forward Observation Lounge

Nova Strike pressed the activation pad off to the right of the orange double doors. He waited briefly and patiently as the computer authorized his transfer to the new command system. To his right and down the elevated walkway at the end of the internal spine avenue was the spacious bridge of the Ark Class multiple purpose heavy star ship. The bridge was manned by a skeletal crew, its main deck officer down on the primary command deck maintaining the tedious task of basic command duties. Inwardly Nova smirked, at least he knew he would never be given the punishment task of commanding such a large battle wagon, or even a small corvette in this war. Rangers rarely lived long enough to rise that high in the ranks, and further more what need did he have for naval command?

Turning his attention back to the computer panel he reentered his codes and this time pounded the activation toggle with his closed fist. A sputter of static and a blip of authorization, followed by a sputtering smoldering wisp of smoke brought the door back online. The hydraulics pulled the doors back into the bulkhead with a muted strain.

The ranger stepped over the threshold and allowed his optics to readjust to the dimmer light of the observation lounge and the large blue orb that hung behind the distinct image of Ultra Magnus who stood peering out into the day night terminus. Between he and the new sector commander was a large oval table who's center was carved out and replaced by a holographic generator. "Nova Strike...." He started as the doors closed behind him. "Reporting as ordered."

"Oh great, so we get another hotshot racer bot to grace us with his presence." The ranger's optics darted over towards a shaded portion of the lounge and caught the familiar glint of the golden head of the loud mouthed Aerialbot.

"Enough Slingshot." Ultra Magnus ordered without the benefit of turning to face either of them. "Welcome Nova Strike, have a seat. We will begin when Prowl and the others arrive."

Nova Strike nodded and took a seat opposite that of Slingshot, a quarter of the way between himself and the star field. "Thank you commander. Though I am not sure why I am being included in a scouting mission. Not exactly my specialty... course if we find a Decepticon camp down there..."

The voice was left hanging as the double doors slid open again to reveal the next stage of operatives destined to investigate Earth for a new colony.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Sun Sep 16, 2012 7:55 am

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Forward Observation Lounge

Prowl had traversed the corridors of the Ark-22 without much difficulty, knowing the basic layout of an Ark class vessel like the back of his hand. During the course of his travel, the black and white briefly considered stopping by Wheeljack’s lab to check up on the progress of Smokescreen’s recovery, but ultimately decided against it. The analyst had already wasted too much time with side issues as it were, and he cared not to have any more pop up unexpectedly. The diversion expert was in good hands and needed no interference from a high ranking mech that most considered to be nothing more than an unwanted nuisance.

The Observation Lounge at the very front of the Autobot vessel was Prowl’s immediate destination. That’s where Ultra Magnus had signaled the scouting team to meet him, a place where they could sit and relax as the upcoming mission was discussed. The military strategist could understand the City Commander’s desire to rendezvous somewhere like that, but it could become distracting, as well. The admittedly beautiful views of the planet below along with the more comfortable seating were in direct contrast with that of a simple conference room where the chairs were hard and the view sorely lacking. Neither of those things were really required for a mission briefing as their attentions needed to be on the tasks ahead and not on the scenery.

Be as it may, Prowl approached the large double doors of the lounge, which parted down the center to reveal the spacious area within. Nova Strike and Slingshot were already there waiting for the briefing to begin while Ultra Magnus stood over by the large window, staring down at their intended destination below. The military strategist regarded both the Aerialbot and the ranger with a curt nod before crossing the distance between himself and the City Commander.

“Reporting as ordered, Commander Magnus. Sorry for the delay in my arrival," Prowl apologized with the appropriate salute as he stood at attention next to the taller Autobot. The black and white then pulled out a datapad and handed it to Ultra Magnus. “This is my detailed report regarding the upcoming scouting mission. Silverbolt was of great assistance to the planning of said operation. I will give a full verbal rundown of its contents once everyone else arrives, sir. In addition, my medical check-up went smoothly, and I believe the others can say the same about their own exams, as well."

Prowl remained at attention, not wanting to presume to take a seat at the large oval table without being granted permission from the new sector commander. The analyst’s role had changed dramatically over the past several solar cycles. Thankfully, he was now back to doing what he did best - strategizing. Of course, while the black and white would call it that, others might call it something else - manipulating. Regardless, Prowl now felt more at ease with his part to play in the overall Autobot war effort, and he wasn’t going to let anything stop him from doing what was necessary to win this eternal conflict.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Mon Sep 17, 2012 5:57 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Wheeljack’s Lab

Axle had placed his optics over the eye pieces that adorned the top of the electron microscope. It would take a considerable amount of time for him to extract each and every one of the chemicals that Oil Slick had so lovingly united. He had no clue as to just what was swirling throughout the mixture, but that only meant he simply needed to take his tome and be as though rough as he possibly could. And his first order of business was determining whether or not the hallucinogen that was found in the current narcotic was present in the narcotic already used by the addicted femme.

“I’ll need a sample of her energon if I want to ultimately determine just which and in what dosages these chemicals were used."

He finally pulled his head up and cast an uncertain look in Wheeljack’s direction. Although the engineer was currently engrossed in his own world and work and had probably not heard a word the medic had said, Axle still felt it comforting to actually voice his concerns. It was something he got used to doing when Hex was around. The little pit stain hardly ever listened let alone paid attention but at the very least he was a constant presence.

The corners of his mouth curled ever so slightly as he watched Wheeljack put his all into reworking his own precarious invention. With any luck this would be one of the scientist’s crowning moments.

Axle quietly shook his head and glanced over the top of the workbench where an assortment of tools and devices were strewn. He’d need to straighten that mess up soon. With the wanted piece located Axle took hold of the device’s handle and stood from his stool. He took another quick look in the busy Wheeljack’s location and then turned and started toward Tracer.
____

She made sure that at least part of her was in constant contact with the CR pod. She wanted no space, in any fashion, to come between her and Smokescreen. It was her right hand that was now pressed lightly against the glass on the top of the pod. At the first sign of any growing condensation Tracer would gently swipe her had across the window removing it just so the mech’s face within remained unobstructed.

It hadn’t been long since Smokescreen was reintroduced to the inside of the pod. Even though he was still in plain view it still felt like those first few vorns they had been apart. It took time but she finally fell into a routine that helped her to cope while they on different sides of the galaxy. But this…this was just cruelty rearing its ugly head.

"I should have told you. I should have said something back then. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted you to think I didn’t trust you."

Tracer let out a low sign as she ran her hand across the glass again removing the small accumulation of water droplets. She had always trusted him. After all she was the one who went along with him even after he caught her trying to swipe those chips. She never even hesitated….she just trusted him…it felt right…normal.

“I never planned on any of this. All I planned on was you and I…after this damned war."

The sound of movement behind her had already been detected before Axle had even made it within five feet of her. The medic had raised his hand to his mouth after overhearing a last bit of what the femme had confessed but he was quickly cut off by her slightly off key voice.

“What is it, Axle?"

Axle shook his head remembering that the blue and white ‘Bot was a scout by function and was more than capable of processing sound much faster than most. He clamped his mouth shut for a moment as he tried to come up with something to say that didn’t involve what he had inadvertently overheard.

“I’m sorry, Tracer, but I’m going to need a sample of your energon. It’s necessary if I’m going to…"

The femme raised a hand stopping the medic before he finished. She already knew what he wanted and what it was for. And she was ready to give it up. Finally, for the first time since he had stepped up to her, and the occupied pod, Tracer turned around to face him. Her soft features were adorned by a troubled expression…her optics almost too bright to render a proper blue hue.

She tried to put up a front by forcing a small smile but it failed miserably. She offered Axle a slight nod and turned her head to the right giving him full view, and more importantly access to her main energon line.

Axle returned her apprehensive smile and small nod while he set to work removing precisely what he needed.

“He’ll be out soon."

“I know. And don’t worry…I don’t mind that you overheard."

Axle shifted uneasily on his feet…rocking slightly from side to side while attempting to keep the syringe from being jarred out of place.

“Uh…well….I didn’t mean to intrude."

There was a long silence which just made Axle all that more uncomfortable before the femme spoke up again.

“After. After everything’s over."

The medic wasn’t sure what she had meant but he had no time to start up a conversation that concerned her and Smokescreen and their complicated future after the war…besides he had his own plans for when that time came. Axle pulled the syringe out carefully once he had enough of the liquid that ran throughout her body and gave her a reassuring smile and a firm squeeze on her shoulder.
____

The smile that had graced Axle’s visage vanished while he watched Tracer turn her attention back to the CR pod and he made his way back to his workbench where he set the vial of energon down. He let out a heavy sigh as he took a small sample and placed it on an examination slide. The medic then placed the sample under the scope and began the process of taking the necessary readings…meticulously recording everything that popped up on the HUD in the eyepieces.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand romantic relationships. They’re more trouble than they’re worth…sometimes."
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Tue Sep 18, 2012 7:20 am

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack remained focused on the task at hand, his audio receptors only catching a little bit of what Axle was now saying. Something about taking an energon sample from Tracer. Yeah, good luck with that. The mad scientist was happy to be dealing with inanimate, non-sentient objects once again without the worry of how a certain troubled femme would react to what he was doing. The replicator made no arguments or complaints or other small talk. It was silent, allowing the mechanical engineer to perform his job and quickly. It was just how he liked to work.

After a few straight breems of intense work, Wheeljack soldered the last two new connections together before setting his tools down onto the workbench. He then replaced the side access cover and stood up from his stool, stretching his arm joints and servos in the process. “There, that should about do it," the white mech muttered quietly to himself, confident that at least the hardware portion of the modifications was now complete. All that was left was the software aspect of the replicator and then it should work...hopefully.

Attaching a cable to the back of the replicator, Wheeljack connected the other end to the side of a nearby terminal, granting him entry into the hard drive and internal operating system of the device. He immediately went to work on reprogramming his invention to accept the physical changes that had just been made as well as adding two new subroutines, one that would allow for chemicals of any kind to be reproduced and the other to allow the machine to scan and analyze the intended object for replication. That way ‘Jack didn’t have to manually program each element into the device, himself. I should’ve thought of that before.

It took another breem for the revisions in the software to be completed and also acknowledged by the replicator’s on board computer. Once finished, the mechanical engineer disconnected the cable and looked over at Axle, who had just muttered something regarding romantic relationships. “Yeah, I don’t get ‘em either," Wheeljack replied with a chuckle, wiping his actuators clean with a rag before tossing it aside. “Well, I’ve finished the modifications to my replicator. It should be able to handle the reproduction of chemicals now. I also added the ability for it to scan and analyze the object, chemical or otherwise, that is intended for replication. Thus, you don’t really have to break down each ingredient of the Syk anymore. However, I still suggest trying to rid the concoction of the hallucinogen element if possible. In the meantime, I’ll begin the testing phase and see if I can reproduce something simple at first before trying a more complex chemical."

Without another word, Wheeljack moved across the room and retrieved a flask of a harmless liquid solvent that the scientist primarily used to clean his tools and equipment. This should do just fine, the Autobot inventor thought as he regarded the chemical in his hand for an astrosecond before moving back over to the replicator. Tapping a green button on the side of the device, a clear panel slid open which allowed ‘Jack to place the flask within the machine. Once the scientist had removed his hand, the small panel closed again and locked into place. The engineer then initiated the scan cycle and watched as a beam of light cascaded across the flask in a brilliant display, recording every element of both the glass container and the solvent that it contained. Once that was completed, Wheeljack removed the flask from the replicator and then set the device for its final cycle - replication.

“Okay, here it goes," Wheeljack said, taking a deep intake of air into his systems before sparing a quick glance over at Axle. “Actuators crossed." Without further delay, the mad scientist activated the replicator and watched as more light filled the empty chamber within. Soon he would know if his modifications had actually worked or whether his invention would simply explode in his faceplate like so many before. I hope Smokey’s almost done in there, ‘cause I may need that CR pod sooner rather than later. Heh.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Tue Sep 18, 2012 1:10 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Science Lab

At the very least Ultra Magnus was not Prowl…and for all of the Autobots recently stationed in this quadrant that was reassuring, however the Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord was just as much a slave to protocol as the strategist. Bothersome to say the least.

Perceptor listened quietly to the acting Commander’s worries and explanations without interrupting. Primus knew just how much wished to counter Magnus’ arguments the scientist remained stoic.

As soon as his lecture was concluded Perceptor made certain to acknowledge Ultra Magnus as though he took everything that was said to heart. But he knew that without testing performed with the first sample he was able to successfully refine he would never be able to further his progress. If that happened and Shockwave was able to progress unhindered the war’s outcome will surely be tipped in the Decepticons’ favor. That could not be allowed to happen.

“Of course, sir. I will do everything in my power to move the project along as swiftly and proficiently as possible."

Without further ado Ultra Magnus left the lab and moved on to his next assignment…something concerning a scouting mission.

“Prime would not allow it…initially, but if there were a possibility that the testing and the results were to save lives he certainly would not hesitate to sanction it."

Turning from the door, the scientist turned sniper moved back to his work station and resumed his work…musing out loud in his normal fashion.

“What is the loss of one life if that life was given up to save millions of others?"

Perceptor stopped his work and took hold of the beaker that Magnus had been holding just moments before. His image had been blurred in the Commander’s eyes, but it was also blurred to him…things had changed and so had he. He now had two functions…and if truth be told he now held another…potential sacrifice for the good of his race.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Tue Sep 18, 2012 3:36 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
(OOC: I abhor doing this, but I had to split this post from my Perceptor one only because I usually post monsters in ‘Jack’s lab. I hope I never have to do this again…it saddens me.)

Wheeljack’s Lab

This was tedious. The whole reverse engineering thing. Axle wasn’t sure who had the easier job…Wheeljack and his reworking of his own invention or him with the proverbial chemical dissection. But at this point it time it really made little difference.

After a few breems Axle took his optics away from the eye pieces and settled down on the stool. Contrary to popular belief robots were subject to kinked wires and stuck pistons, and this point the medic believed he had both.

With a slight grunt of discomfort Axle ran his hand over the small of his back and pressed his chest forward. The stretch felt good but he knew before long the kink and the slight pain would return once he started back up.

“This little side job is gonna be the death of me."

He let out a disgruntled sigh while shaking his head and then leaned back down to continue where he had left off. Axle kept his focus on the small sample he had under the scope even when Wheeljack had announced that he had completed the reconfiguration of his invention. Thank the Matrix.

“That’s great…uh…'Jack."

When the engineer mentioned that the breakdown of the sample chemicals by hand was no longer necessary Axle pulled his head away from the scope and looked to the white masked mech. That was possibly THE best news he had heard since before he’d been brought in on this project.

“Well, now that’s great news I was already developing optic strain."

His cheerful expression faded, however, when he heard Wheeljack’s suggestion that they exclude the addition of the hallucinogen. If only that were possible. Axle looked down at the datapad he had been using while studying the sample. It contained the complete list of chemicals and their dose level, and on the bottom of the list was that damned hallucinogen. The dosage was still unknown.

“I’d love to keep it out, Wheeljack, but the sample I extracted from Tracer shows that it’d already been introduced with the last Syk push. It’s not a lot but it’s still enough to cause severe adverse effects if left out completely."

The sound of the replicator’s door shutting caught Axle’s attention making the medic spin around so as not to miss the test run of the inventor’s contraption. He even made sure to follow Wheeljack’s instructions and actually crossed his actuators.

“Um…’Jack…is it supposed to be making that noise?"

Axle stood up quickly and took a tentative step toward the device and the scientist. If this thing was going to explode it would be best to be as close as possible to its intended victim. Quick medical intervention was a high possibility.

“Wheeljack! If this thing blows up I’m gonna kill you!"
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby VkmSpouge » Tue Sep 18, 2012 4:25 pm

Forward Observation Lounge

The ride over to the Ark-22 was as comfortable as could be expected, space was generally very smooth travel as there was no turbulance unless you were being fired upon and with no Decepticons around there was no possibility of that. The Ark class ships were very impressive vessels. Freeway had idlly thought up ways to sabotage such a ship; rusting agents in engine control circuitry, viral implant in the navigation software, that kind of thing. He was prepared should there ever come a need to do it, like if Decepticons had taken control of one for instance. Hopefully that would never happen. It would be a shame to wreak havoc on such a fine vessel.

Moving through the corridors, Freeway chose to walk rather than drive simply because it offered him a better chance to study the ship and get used to its layout, where the escape pods were for instance, should anything calamitous happen between now and leaving for the planet. The Throttlebot headed for the observation lounge at the front of the ship where supposedly the best views were to be had and where they would get their final briefing. Freeway was keen to learn more about these psychotic apes that were inhabitating the planet below.

The doors swooshed open and the first thing that struck Freeway was the view. The planet Earth was certainly a beauty. Plenty of liquid, vapour and solid water. The hydro-energy potential alone was just incredible. There were clouds, big masses of them indicating storms. Storms were high winds so there was another source of potential energy. The light from the yellow star could easily be harnessed too. How much energon could be created from that alone? Then add to it the mineral wealth. Damn. And with all that energy there was also life. The green on the land surface indicating a lot of organic life. The place must have been teeming.

“If we're planning on any aquatic missions myself and Sparky are already well camoflouged for that," said Freeway pointy to the similarly blue Nova Strike. He noted an Aerial-hotshot-bot in the room along with Prowl and Ultra Magnus.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Devastron » Tue Sep 18, 2012 9:57 pm

Weapon: Energo-Sword
Message from Kup

>>"Ultra Magnus, Prowl, we have a situation. It seems that Hot Rod along with several other Autobots have just bounced down to Earth. As far as I know this was an unauthorized mission. Normally I would chalk this up to some youthful mischief except I instructed Howlstrike to keep an optic on them. Now Howlstrike is not responding to my calls. In addition the group who went down with Hot Rod included Bots like Hardhead, Warpath and Ricochet. I'm sure you'll agree those are not the young mischievous types. I am guessing they have some sort of attack on Decepticons involved but I am taking the Protectobots and Ironhide down to be prepared for anything"<<
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Sat Sep 22, 2012 5:16 pm

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack was disappointed when Axle revealed that the hallucinogen could not be left out of the Syk mix without the risk of grievous and possibly life threatening side effects. Tracer’s systems were already so sensitive that even the slightest alteration in the chemical compound that she’d been exposed to could cause irreparable damage to her internal mechanisms. It was for that reason that weaning her slowly off the narcotic was so important. Going cold turkey, as the humans would say, was simply not an option.

“I understand, Axle," the mechanical engineer relented as he kept his optics on the portable replicator that was still in the process of reproducing a flask of liquid solvent. The noise it was making was a tad loud and had made the field medic more than just a little nervous. “Well, considering how old it is, I’m not surprised my invention is a bit boisterous not to mention somewhat on the clunky side." Wheeljack cast a sideways glance towards the medic. “But I’m sure it won’t explode, so you won’t have to kill me. Heh."

The mad scientist returned his attention to the replicator as the device’s final sequence completed, the light within slowly diminishing by the astrosecond. “I think we have something here," Wheeljack muttered quietly, but just loud enough for Axle to hear him. With the brilliance inside now gone, all that was left was some white smoke, masking the results of the replication process. ‘Jack stepped in closer and opened the glass panel and carefully reached inside until he had found what he was looking for.

“Ah, there you are!" Wheeljack exclaimed as he withdrew his hand from the replicator and produced a flask of the solvent, which appeared to be a perfect copy of what he had just scanned moments ago. However, to be absolutely sure the solvent was exactly the same, additional tests needed to be run. “Well, it looks like solvent...." the engineer stated as he held the flash up to his nose, "...and it smells like solvent, but I need to make sure that it is solvent."

Moving away from the replicator, which was now powering down, Wheeljack placed the new flask onto a worktable and grabbed a hand held scanner. After a quick analysis of the reproduced chemical, the engineer was able to determine that the solvent had been recreated successfully. “I have good news!" The Autobot inventor declared as he turned back around to face Axle once more. “Believe it or not, the replicator worked! Of course, solvent is a very basic chemical and no where near as complex as Syk along with whatever else Oil Slick mixed in for bad measure. The next step is to test the replicator with a more intricate solution. Perhaps a very small sample of the narcotic, itself. If that’s also a success, then we can simply replicate the rest of the vile repeatedly until we are well stocked. Agreed?"
_________

The nanite-rich fluid within the tight confines of the CR unit finally began to evacuate as Smokescreen’s optics flickered back online again. The rallybot let out a low groan as the rest of his systems began to power up, his HUD showing the progress of each until all were at a full 100%. Once the liquid that had surrounded him was completely drained, the door opened with a hiss and the diversion expert was free from the coffin-like pod. Thankfully, his stay there had not been too long and had provided him with the apt amount of rest that his new body required. Hopefully, now he would be back to his old self again, at least in the physical sense.

Climbing out of the CR unit, Smokescreen’s optics immediately located Tracer who was positioned directly next to the pod, maintaining a constant vigil until his repair cycle had been completed. Even after their intense argument, her loyalty to him had not faltered one bit. Thinking back on it, he now understood her reasoning for not being up front with him from the beginning in regards to everything she had been through. She was simply thinking of his own well being, not wanting to burden him further. The thing she hadn’t understood was that he wanted to be burdened by her. He wanted that responsibility in order to save her from the Syk and ultimately from herself. His physical strength may not be the greatest, but his mental prowess was more powerful than ever.

“Hey there, good lookin’," Smokescreen said to Tracer as he turned to face her, his rebuilt body now fully painted with his usual red and blue color scheme as well as the 38s prominently displayed on both door wings. Smokey briefly glanced down at his newly applied paint job and smiled, but not as widely as when his attention returned to the troubled femme. “Well, I guess I’m as good as new. I feel strong, but I suppose I should still take it a bit easy for a while and not overdo it. At least I’m not naked anymore. Heh." The rallybot chuckled as he stepped in closer to the scout, taking her left hand into his right. “Of course, I’m sure you probably preferred me in the buff, didn’t you, Trace? Don't lie now. I saw the look on your faceplate before. You couldn't take you optics off me. But, that's okay, because I couldn't take mine of you, either."
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Mon Sep 24, 2012 9:11 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Message from Hex

>>"Prowl! Or whoever the hell is in charge! It’s Hex! A bunch of us followed Rodimus down planet side! We found the ‘Cons but we’re takin’ a beating! You gotta send reinforcements like yesterday! These are our coordinates!"<<

Forward Observation Lounge

It seemed odd, but for a ‘Bot who had spent so much time on the surface of the planet they were currently stationed above, that Bumblebee was actually taking heavy breaths in order to express just how quickly he had been moving in order to make it to his current location.

The little yellow mech came to a stop just outside the door to the lounge and tried to catch his “breath”. After a few astroseconds Bumblebee entered the room and glanced to all the mech present. To Nova he flashed a broad smile and a nod. The ranger was a good mech if not a bit talkative…although he should be grateful Nova Strike was not Bluestreak. That thought of the gunner brought another smile to his face.

Bee quickly cleared his thoughts and made his way to stand in front of both Ultra Magnus and Prowl. He offered both mechs a crisp salute.

“Bumblebee reporting as ordered, sirs."

Wheeljack’s Lab

Axle looked to his scientific cohort with an abundant amount of skepticism. He had heard a lot of stories…some of which were actually confirmed by the scientist himself…that a good majority of Wheeljack’s inventions usually wind up exploding in people’s faces.

“You’ll have to excuse my cynicism, but I’m just going by what I’ve heard from others…and well…from you."

The medic quieted down…and took several steps back…when Wheeljack’s device finally completed its cycle. And once the replicator was actually complete and he decided that it was safe, Axle stepped forward and leaned in closer so as to get a good look at the flask once it was removed.

Wheeljack’s exclamation gave Axle a slight start causing the former doctor to nearly jump backwards and away from the replicator. He let out a laugh when he realized that the scientist wasn’t about to tell him that that things were about to go to the Pit and instead that the device had possibly worked.

“Okay, now I’m surprised. No offense, ‘Jack. It’s just…well…"

Axle shut his mouth in an attempt to save face and not upset the engineer.

“Yeah. I agree."

Axle stepped up closer and took a good look at the flask containing the replicated solvent and then back down to the vial containing the Syk. There wasn’t a lot to work with and if they used too much…well if that happened so many things could go wrong.

“There isn’t a lot to keep working with. We’re gonna have to get this right the first time."

The medic scooped up the data slate he had been taking notes on while examining the sample. The contents of the chemical mixture was broken down into its most basic elements...including the amounts of each that had been utilized. Of course those steps had already completed when Wheeljack had told him that it wouldn’t be necessary. However, the final component to make the concoction whole was hallucinogen. It was present in Tracer’s current dosage and as such it was needed in this mixture.

“Alright. Let’s get this party started."

Axle flashed Wheeljack an uneasy smirk.
____

Tracer had stood up when the CR pod began its power down sequence. She had been sitting watch for the entire cycle but now that it was complete she wasn’t sure she was ready to face him after their last discussion. Too late now. She noticed that his optics were the first to come online and even though she couldn’t see as well as she usually could Tracer was still happy to see those blue orbs light up.

The scout met his gaze and for a moment she simply stared. She flashed him a small smile at his very first comment.

“I should be the one saying that to you."

Tracer let out a chuckle while Smokescreen looked over himself. To her he looked…the same. Perhaps a bit more streamlined but he was still Smokescreen no matter what form he took on or what paint job he was sporting.

“Taking it easy is probably a wise choice. Besides, I can’t move as fast as I usually do…hard to see."

Tracer offered the former ralleybot a halfhearted smirk and tapped the side of her head next to her right optic before she stepped in a bit closer to him.

“I don’t care what you look like, Smokescreen, as long as I have you."

She paused for a moment before she flashed him a sultry smile…

“I have to admit I really didn’t mind you waiting so long to have your paint job done…"

Tracer was about to finish her statement when she suddenly realized what Smokescreen had said. She gave him a broad smile and stepped in even closer to him. The scout set her right hand on his shoulder and leaned in but stopped almost suddenly.

The blue and white femme pulled back and dropped her head in her hand.

>>"Hey Trace! It’s Sides. Just thought you should know I got Razr here and he’s real upset that I’m not you. Heh. I think he wants to see yah so how’s about you meet me outside your quarters and we’ll have a little prisoner exchange…I hand Razr over to you and you hand yourself over to me. I’ll see ya in what…10 minutes? Yeah, ten sounds good. Later sweetspark!"<<

“He has Razr."
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Marcus Rush » Tue Sep 25, 2012 2:31 pm

Weapon: Automatic Acid-Pellet Gun
Front Observation Lounge

Ultra Magnus pivoted on his heel and accepted the data pad from Prowl. His optics swiftly absorbed the mission profile that Prowl and the currently absent Silverbolt had proposed. It was thorough, though he had expected that from the military strategist and flight commander. It was in their base programming, it was what made them effective at their functions. Offering a brief nod to the last arriving member of the team, Magnus set the tablet down onto the polished table surface.

"I trust all exams were without incident, as well as rearming protocols." He paused as he glanced over to Slingshot who huffed and folded his arms over his chest in a pout.

His optics returned to Bumblebee as the smaller Autobot entered the chamber. Nova Strike gave a quick greeting to his new friend. By reputation, both Autobots had been dubbed as among the toughest per size. Nova Strike took on a lot of traits his previous special units commander eons ago back on Cybertron during the early days of the war. Never give up, Never surrender sort of mechanism that Magnus appreciated. Prowl's choice for this operation in that regard was spot on. If things did get dicey then who better to have on the front than a Ranger who specialized in the unpredictable? Of course Bumblebee's abilities were well recorded throughout the historical tracks. Anyone capable of going into the heart of Kaon just to get intelligence on Megatron's next offensive or even his refueling schedule, that took barrings.

Freeway on the other hand, Magnus had worked with the Throttlebots before. Most of them were unique in their own right and tended to at least be constructive. Freeway was the odd mech out. A comedian by choice, but lacked the finesse and delivery matrix for the task. Not to mention most of the limericks or stories or one liners were lost on him anyways. Baring that however, Freeway was absolutely the most qualified at what he did best. If it weren't for him, many of the Throttlebots not to mention active Autobots would be eliminated every time a retreat had to be staged or a base had to be established and defended. So with that in mind, Ultra Magnus could endure a touch of bad comedy.

The Aerialbots were another matter. Silverbolt had come down with a mysterious infection of the fuel intake and required a few days rest. Air Raid was well probably not happy that this was nothing more than a Scouting Operation. Slingshot had been the only flier to show up. Magnus frowned with the realization that one lone military aircraft flying over the scout zone would probably raise more questions than would a trio. Counter intuitive but it made sense.

"Let us finalize the business at hand."

He stepped back and pressed a button on the table surface. A small cone of light erupted from its center and consolidated to colored mesh of landscape. The valley was elongated with a glacier lake at its lowest point near the far northern end. Ice capped peaks ringed the valley with small passes carved by narrow dried riverbeds of ice and snow. Along the downward slopes small patches of scrub brush before delving deeper into the thicker jungle that swarmed the lake further in. Chasms and gorges had been carved out through glaciers eons ago, deep and lined by sheer cliffs of mineral wealth. "This is our target area, A mountainous terrain that is arid for the most part, but lower elevations are covered in dense foliage masses. Sufficed to say that this area is populated albeit sparsely. Despite our best efforts and scans, finding a position on the surface devoid of organic life has not been very successful."

Magnus flipped the switch on the controls and narrowed the feed. "This valley here has displayed very few humanoid life signs but that is irrelevant. The reason why I have chosen this region for exploration is because of its mineral deposits that could prove vital to our coming colony." The image switched again this time to show molecular shapes of various ores and metals that Cybertronians most required and that were supposedly abundant in the abandoned region.

"This area, from scans of human historical channels, was once inhabited. So you can expect to encounter ruins and other architectural displays and monuments. Prowl, I want you to gather an Archivist for this mission as well. While this is a military survey, this is only a temporary situation. I want to be able to reconstruct this land to its natural state once the Decepticons have been forced from the sector... permanently. In the meantime. You are to locate two specific conditions. A location with suitable coverage, an off shoot gorge or even a large cavern. And secondly a readily accessible power source. We can easily deal with exposure via holographic emitters and solar towers, but those will take time to establish."

Magnus shut off the hologram and looked over towards the other officers who had gathered. "This survey is important to our long term defense of this system. Mission Limiters are standard. You are to avoid contact with the indigenous hominids of the region. You are to avoid combat where possible, If these things are unavoidable, such as interactions with the Humans, make sure your avatars have been equipped and properly adjusted for the master life forms of this planet."

As he prepared to go into the purpose of the survey, beyond the simple description of the colony, Magnus' comm terminal clicked on. He pressed the activation toggle and immediately linked with Kup. His optical guards furrowed and dimmed as the link fell silent after Kup brought him up to date. "Hot Rod?" His voice staggered briefly before he regained his composure. This was not right. This Rodimus was becoming an unwanted variable, as Perceptor would qualify him, an unknown quantity. However, Warpath nor Hardhead were known for going off the deep end, even if they were military specialists who craved action. Magnus was keenly aware that he had not played his hand of command yet... and that had cost them yet another advantage, unity. He would have to specifically rectify that himself. Even if it meant going to battle to stop this unauthorized raid. Giving a nano second of thought, he transmitted his intentions to Kup. He would bounce there as reinforcements to the Protectobots and himself. Not necessarily knocking the abilities of Hot Spot, Magnus himself had to be present. And that meant he would have to bring support to help legitimize his current position.

Once the message was complete, Magnus turned and faced the survey team. "Unfortunately I will have to keep my part in this briefing short. There are other matters of great importance that require my attention. Prowl I want you to complete the rest of this briefing in route if necessary. Bumblebee will serve as your second in command while Silverbolt is laid up. He and Air Raid will be placed on emergency dispatch should you require Air Support. In the meantime, Slingshot, your services are going to be required in another avenue of action. Prowl if necessary I want you to acquire the services of Rewind to fill that Archivist's role I originally mentioned. His capacity should prove invaluable to your current operation."

He handed Prowl a separate data pad. On it was a sensor frequency that he wanted to keep classified until they had bounced to the surface. A line on the top of the slate simply stated, 'A Request from Perceptor.' As the others stood and offered a salute to Magnus, he gave a curt nod. "Good luck fellow Autobots. We are counting on your speedy completion of this mission. The very fate of our Earth Defense Strategy may very well depend on it."

With that Magnus gave a final salute to Prowl and pulled Slingshot out of the briefing lounge. Both transformed and began a mad dash towards the nearest bounce chamber. Both Autobots wondering what exactly awaited them down below.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Sat Sep 29, 2012 3:59 pm

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack simply chuckled at Axle’s cynicism regarding the inventor’s ability to build something that didn’t blow up in one’s faceplate. He’d heard it all before from various Autobots throughout the vorns and it didn’t bother him one bit. In fact, the mechanical engineer embraced his reputation as a mad scientist of sorts, knowing full well that most of his comrades still considered him to be a valuable asset to the war effort. After all, even with all the horror stories that came out of his lab, ‘Jack still had far more successes than he did failures.

Once the field medic had agreed that the next step should be to test the replicator with a sample of actual Syk, Wheeljack took the vile from Axle and held it up to optic level. “Yes, we don’t have much to work with. However, all I need to do is scan the drug and then the replicator will do the rest. The process doesn’t use up any of what we currently have here, so there’s no risk of losing any." The engineer then lowered the vile and walked back over to the replicator. “Although, since there’s really not a lot in this vile, I don’t see any reason not to just scan the whole thing. My invention should have no problem handling it."

Wheeljack then placed the Syk into the replicator and repeated the same scanning process he had successfully done with the solvent. The machine thoroughly analyzed the mixture and stored the data in the hard drive. ‘Jack then removed the vile and handled back over to Axle. “Okay, it’s scanned in and everything seems to be ready to go. Now all I have to do is start the replication cycle. Ready?"

Without waiting for a response from the field medic, Wheeljack pushed the green button on the side of the replicator and carefully watched as the device powered back up and the small chamber within was consumed in the same brilliant light as before. This time, however, the machine seemed to be struggling a bit as it began to vibrate more than it had previously. This didn’t cause the scientist any real concerns as the Syk was a more potent and complex chemical than mere solvent and would undoubtedly put additional stress on the replicator. However, when his invention began emitting a small amount of smoke from a top vent, the engineer couldn’t help but take a step back.

“Ah, no need to panic. I’m sure it’ll be fine," Wheeljack assured Axle and everyone else who was close enough to hear him. He didn’t want to pull the plug on it just yet as they likely wouldn’t get another shot at this. Hopefully, the replicator would hold out until the cycle was finished. Otherwise, they would have to rely on the field medic’s limited knowledge of chemistry to create more Syk from scratch.
_________

Smokescreen smiled even wider as Tracer admitted that she kinda liked him unpainted. Still, it was good to be complete again, considering that without his color scheme he looked more like Bluestreak than his diversionary self. And Primus knew Smokey didn’t need to be mistaken for the overly talkative gunner. “I knew it! Now, if I could only get you paintless..." His words were cut short as the troubled femme leaned in towards him. The rallybot expected another kiss, but instead she stopped suddenly as she received a message over her comm. Considering how close he was to her, it wasn’t hard to hear the communique.

“How did Sideswipe get Razr?" Smokescreen asked with a quizzical look as he took a small step back, never letting his hand flee from hers. “Did he get out while I was being rebuilt or are my memory circuits still not functioning properly and I’ve just forgotten what happened?" The diversion expert’s question was put on hold when his olfactory sensors picked up the faint smell of smoke coming from somewhere behind him. “What’s that smell? Either my smoke generators are malfunctioning or something else is...."

Smokescreen spun around and quickly determined the origin of the odor. The smoke was coming from the top of Wheeljack’s replicator unit as it worked to duplicate the Syk that Tracer so desperately needed. Without even thinking, the rallybot placed his newly built body between the troubled femme and the machine just in case the worse happened. It wasn’t a lot of smoke, but still enough to concern the former street racer. “Hey, ‘Jack! That thing’s not gonna blow is it? Maybe you should pull the plug before anything happens!"

Wheeljack turned his head towards the rallybot before responding. “Don’t worry, Smokey. I got it under control!" No sooner had the mad scientist finished assuring his comrade that everything would be fine, a series of sparks then emanated from the top of the replicator. “Oh, dear!" The mechanical engineer exclaimed as he quickly studied the external readout display to determine what was going wrong. When he couldn’t ascertain the problem, ‘Jack reached for the off switch, but paused as he noticed that the unit was finally powering down on its own from the replication cycle.

“I think we’re okay," Wheeljack assured everyone again, all the while keeping a close optic on things as his invention entered shut down mode. Once that happened, the engineer waved his hand over top of the device to get rid of the remaining smoke that lingered in the air. The scientist then opened the side panel and carefully reached in, taking hold of a vile of what he hoped was Syk and withdrawing it from the small chamber. “Well, that could’ve gone better, but I think that it ultimately worked," the white mech proclaimed as he closely studied the vile in his hands. Of course, only after a careful analyzation would they know for sure if the drug had been successfully reproduced. "Axle, I’m going to need you to examine this replicated Syk and determine if it’s an exact copy of the original source while I take a look at my replicator to see if any permanent damage was done to it. Okay?"

Smokescreen relaxed a bit once the replicator was no longer running and the smoke had dissipated. Glancing back around at Tracer, the rallybot gave her an uneasy smirk. “Well, that was exciting."

Forward Observation Lounge

Once Ultra Magnus had read through the mission report that was encoded on the datapad, Prowl sat down near the head of the large table as the City Commander then commenced with the briefing. The military strategist watched as Magnus brought up a holographic display of a valley that was to be the primary target area for the upcoming scouting operation. It was located at the heart of the Central Andes within the nation-state of Peru, the same region as mentioned in the black and white’s report. It was a seemingly perfect spot to set up their new Earth base. Of course, getting down there and looking around in person would confirm if outward appearances were, in fact, correct or just a case of assumption over fact.

Prowl continued to listen as Magnus went on to describe the valley in more detail and what they could expect to find there. The City Commander also instructed the strategist to take an archivist along to document everything before also giving him two specific conditions to look for when determining the best place to set up their colony. The black and white simply nodded in understanding, already knowing exactly what factors needed to be accounted for. Ultra Magnus then established the mission’s parameters and conveyed the importance of the survey.

All of this was interrupted, however, when Kup contacted them regarding Hot Rod taking a group down to the surface to engage the ‘Cons in an unsanctioned action. That was soon followed by a message from Hex. Prowl couldn’t believe what he was hearing and simply shook his cranium in disgust. The black and white knew there had been something just not right with the way Hot Rod was acting earlier, which was the reason he had ordered those medical tests, the ones that were never carried out. If they had been administered then perhaps whatever was clearly wrong with the upgraded cavalier would’ve been ascertained and all this could’ve been avoided.

Ratchet always thinks he knows better, Prowl angrily thought to himself. Maybe I’ll go have a word with him once I’m back from this scouting mission. The military strategist put what needed to be done later to the back of his processor for the time being as Magnus had the situation well in hand. Once the City Commander’s orders were handed out, Prowl received a new datapad from his superior that simply read “A request from Perceptor”.

“Understood, Commander," the analyst replied as he stood from his chair and returned a respectful salute to Ultra Magnus. “Don’t worry, sir. I have things under control here. Good luck to you, as well. I hope you can bring Hot Rod and his merry bunch back in one piece."

Once Magnus and Slingshot were gone from the lounge, Prowl’s attention was drawn to what was left of his team. Originally, they were to have air support, but that was now on hold as the wayward Aerialbots were no where to be found. As it were it would only be Bumblebee, Freeway, Nova Strike and eventually Rewind along with Prowl, himself. All ground troops, of course, which would make things a bit more difficult without a skyward view, but not insurmountable by any means.

“So, it’s up to us now," Prowl stated plainly as the holographic view of the valley shimmered in front of him. “Somewhere in this region, known as the Andes Mountains of Peru, we will find the site of our future home here on Earth. We just need to locate the best spot to set up camp. An isolated and hidden location for the base, itself, is essential. A place that is near the appropriate mineral deposits we will need to keep said base functioning is also necessary. Iron and copper are two raw materials we should look for as well as an oil or natural gas source that we can tap into and siphon power from.

“Now, without air support, we will have our jobs cut out for us, but I’m sure that each and every one of you are up for the task. Magnus was pretty thorough in describing the parameters and purpose of the mission, and I’ve just gone into a bit more detail. If there are any questions, you can ask them on our way down to the bounce chamber. In the meantime, I will contact Rewind and instruct him where to meet us. Now, let's get going."

After he switched off the holographic display, the military strategist turned and headed for the door of the lounge, opening a secured comm line to the cassettebot archivist at the same time:

>>"Rewind, this is Prowl. Drop what you are doing and make your way immediately to the bounce chamber over on the Ark-22. You are being reassigned to an important scouting mission and your archival skills are required. You will be briefed once you have arrived."<<
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby UnidentifiedTurian » Sun Sep 30, 2012 3:51 pm

Weapon: Photon Eliminator Rifle
With a small metallic hiss, the panel in front of him slid upward, revealing the cool metal walls of the room. 

The world began to materialize around Sidewinder as his vision began to clear. His HUD was among the first few things to appear, showing numerous icons and meters ranging from his physical condition to time elapsed since the last time he was functioning before he dropped into stasis. After reorienting himself to his surroundings, he slowly climbed out of the pod, shaking his head an additional time. Checking his sensors, Sidewinder was pleased to see that he was in excellent condition. The bright light emanating from above blinded him for a moment, he broke his gaze from the light and down to his smooth exterior. The pale grey and blue hexagons that covered the exterior shell of his vehicle form.

Now that he was officially back online, he decided it would be best to inform the captain of his awakening, and he began to compose a message. 

Message to Captain of Ark-22 

     >>This a notification from Sidewinder. I have awoken from stasis, and I will be expecting a report on any important events I missed since we launched. I will be attaching my skill set to this message in case you have not seen my name among the passenger list. I know how difficult it can be to manage things aboard such a vessel. Please notify me when you receive this.<<

-Sidewinder: Autobot Engineer

After sending his message, he found a place to relax within the room. Sidewinder would stay in place until he was summoned, being that he was a former Decepticon, wondering the ship might not fair well with the crew. He would have tested his weapon system if cameras weren't trained on him. While the Autobots were the best chance at peace if there was any, he loathed how he was treated among them. It was all understandable, of course, but it didn't hangs the fact he would be more effeciant if more privileges were allowed to him.

Hopefully the crew wouldn't be as prejudice to him as the Autobots back on Cybertron. His hopes weren't too exceptionally high though. They always seem to have trouble with an Ex-'Con... I can't say I blame them though. He though as he passed the time and waited for a response.
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Ember » Thu Oct 04, 2012 12:01 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Wheeljack’s Lab

The chuckle that Wheeljack had let loose did not make Axle feel any better about the device the engineer had so recently converted. But he had to give ‘Jack the benefit of the doubt…if he could survive his own mistakes…that normally presented in the form of explosions…then Axle could as well. The medic finally visibly relaxed as he handed Wheeljack the vial that was then placed directly into the replicator. Again, Axle tensed. Should anything go wrong then entire vial would be lost.

The field medic let out a low sigh before he drew in a deep intake and held it. Once the replicator had finished its scan Axle let out the breath and took hold of the proffered vial that had been removed from the device.

“Okay, ready."

Optics wide with anticipation, Axle watched as the device’s chamber lit up to a brilliant white just as it had done before. However, the machine seemed to start vibrating. The anticipation melted from the medic as dread took its place. Benefit of the doubt be damned…I wanna live. Axle took several steps back trying to put as much distance between him and the soon to be charred mark on the counter top. It was probably the smoke that started to emit from the top of the replicator that had Axle nearly diving for cover. And it was from behind a chair that he had effectively situated in front of himself, Axle yelled out to the engineer.

“No need to panic?! Wheeljack, the damn thing is smoking!"
____

Tracer quickly lowered her gaze further to the floor as she considered what she should say about just why Razr was now in the red twin’s hands. She had finally decided to just come clean with what went on while he was unconscious when Smokescreen mentioned something about some kind of smell. Tracer quickly raised her head and looked to the rallybot but she quickly refocused her attention behind him to where Wheeljack and Axle were working on replicating the Syk and to the machine that was now spouting light puffs of smoking.

The scout was ready to push forward when Smokescreen had stepped in front of her shielding her should the volatile piece of equipment explode. Optics wide Tracer placed her hand against Smokescreen’s back and took in as much as she could. With the damage done and still being done to her optics it was difficult to make out just what was happening.

Axle took a tentative step forward, and then another, and then another until he was around the chair barrier and standing beside Wheeljack. Thankfully the replicator seemed to have completed its cycle and began to power down. The medic kept his optics glued to the device as he took hold of the replicated drug and backed up to the work station he was working at prior to the dangerous spectacle.

“Yeah. Sure. You just make sure that thing of yours doesn’t decide to blow and take us all to the Pit with it."

Tracer let her hand slide down Smokescreen’s back as she took half a step back to give him enough room to turn fully to face her.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of exciting."

She flashed him a weary smile before stepping back further. Her smile faded as she recalled the conversation she and Smokescreen were engaged in just prior to the aforementioned excitement. Razr in Sideswipe’s hands.

“I sent Razr out to keep Red Alert busy. If Red decided to come here to question Wheeljack anymore about the shuttle or anything else…well, I’m sure you could picture how that would have turned out, so sent Razr out to occupy Red’s time."

Tracer let out a sigh and shrugged.

“I’m guessing he got around Red and wound up getting caught by Sideswipe. I’m just not sure h…"

The femme slapped a hand to her forehead and shook her head in realization.

“It was Sunstreaker. Razr’s always been attracted to shiny objects. It’s how he got caught in that trap on Cybertron when I found him. He must have run right to Sunstreaker giving Sideswipe the opportunity to grab him."

She plopped down onto a stool and ran both hands down the length of her face.

“And since Razr knows Sideswipe he’s not likely to try and get away."

Tracer quickly stood back up and took a quick look in Wheeljack’s and Axle’s direction and then back to Smokescreen.

“I have to go get him. I can’t ask Wheeljack or Axle…Razr won’t go to either of them, he doesn't know them. Look, I’ll be back as soon as I can."

Tracer turned and started to make her way toward the door. If she was lucky she could talk the red twin into giving up her pet with nothing more than an empty promise.

Forward Observation Lounge

At Ultra Magnus’ announcement that he would be Prowl’s second, Bumblebee offered a grateful nod. It seemed a bit odd that Magnus would personally put this mission together and then head off on another one. One involving Hot Rod. He had heard here and there that the cavalier was acting strangely but did that require Ultra Magnus himself? But who was he to question the way the City Commander’s processor worked.

A final look around at the small gathering and with Prowl’s order, Bee began to make his way out of the lounge and on toward the bounce chamber. Although try as he may he still couldn't get the perplexing abrupt change that Magnus had performed.

“Um, hey Prowl? This thing with Hot Rod…is it serious? I mean I heard some stuff about him acting…um, I guess funny. Did he do something Hot Rod-ish?"
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Smokescreen85 » Fri Oct 05, 2012 10:21 pm

Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Wheeljack’s Lab

“Well, I don’t plan on going to the Pit anytime soon, Axle," Wheeljack responded with a slight chuckle to the field medic’s concerns regarding the replicator and its near fiery malfunction. “Besides, it’s in sleep mode now, so there's no chance at all of an explosion." The mechanical engineer then returned his attention to the device, rubbing his chin guard in deep contemplation. The scientist wasn’t sure what exactly had caused the smoke, but he knew right where to start looking.

Bending over the device, Wheeljack opened up the top cover where the vent was located and peered inside, immediately noticing the source of the problem. “Ah, so that was the culprit," the inventor muttered to himself as he reached in and removed a burnt-out circuit board. “Seems this little guy was the primary offender. Must’ve been too old to handle the extra stress of such a complex replication process. As a result, the board just overloaded which in turn caused the smoke and likely the vibration, as well. At least there doesn’t seem to be any further damage caused by the mishap, and I can easily replace the circuit with an upgraded one that should be able to handle the additional strain."

Wheeljack tossed the charred circuit aside into a bin of junk and assorted broken parts before grabbing his trusty toolkit where he quickly found a replacement board that would be suitable for the replicator. “Perfect," the mad scientist whispered as he moved back to the device and went to work on installing the new part that would hopefully ensure there would be no further problems. The only thing to worry about now was if the reproduced Syk was just as good as the real deal. “So, Axle, did my invention otherwise work? Is the narcotic a perfect match or are we going to have to start from scratch?"
_________

“Same ol’ Wheeljack," Smokescreen commented with a hearty laugh that the mad scientist seemed to ignore. Seeing that everything was now safe, the rallybot turned back around to face Tracer, who was saying how she was tired of all the excitement. “I don’t blame you. You’ve been through a lot lately. I just wish I could take all that pain away, but it’s just not that simple, I’m afraid."

The diversion expert then listened as she explained how Razr had likely ended up in Sideswipe’s hands. It all made sense. There was really no other way to get rid of a mech like Red Alert, whose paranoia was unparalleled within the Autobot ranks. It was a brilliant idea really, considering that Red’s nose would pick up the turbofox’s scent and draw him far away from the lab. Thankfully, it had been one of the twins that eventually caught the little guy and not the security director, himself.

“I understand, Trace," Smokescreen responded with a smile, moving closer to her. “And you’re probably right about Sunny. I can just imagine ol’ golden rod’s expression when Razr tried to get close to him. I bet it was priceless. Ha ha!" The rallybot’s laughter quickly subsided once the troubled femme started towards the door, saying that she had to be the one to go and get him as Razr wouldn’t come to anyone he didn’t know. “Hey, wait an astrosec!" Smokey said as he reached out and gently grabbed a hold of Tracer’s upper arm in order to stop her from leaving. With an equally gentle tug, he managed to turn her around so that she was once again facing him.

“You can’t go get him in your condition. You’re already beginning to exhibit withdrawal symptoms and your optics look absolutely terrible. Others would take one look at you and start asking all kinds of questions. No, I’ll go and get Razr. He knows me, right? I shouldn’t have any problems getting him to come to me," Smokescreen suggested as he reached up with his right hand and caressed the side of her faceplate. “And don’t worry about me. I feel more than strong enough, and I’ll be sure to take it easy. Besides, I really need to get out of this lab and stretch my new legs." The diversion expert paused a moment, taking a quick glance over at Wheeljack who was still toiling away on his replicator. The rallybot then returned his gaze to the drug addicted femme. “I mean, I just got put back together. I don’t really need to be blown up and have yet another body built for me, you know? Heh."

Corridor - Near Forward Observation Lounge

Prowl had just exited the lounge when be heard Bumblebee’s query regarding Rodimus and how he had been acting out of character before going off half-cocked to the planet below, which was definitely something the former cavalier was known for doing. Therefore, this new version really wasn’t all that different from the old Hot Rod, at least not on the surface. Of course, had those tests been performed as ordered, perhaps they would know exactly what they were dealing with. As it were, the problem belonged to Magnus now with the military strategist assigned to head up a scouting mission that would lead to the location of their new Earth base.

“Well, Bumblebee, Hot Rod, or Rodimus as he now calls himself, seems to believe that he’s been chosen by the Matrix to be the next Prime," Prowl responded to the minibot’s question, glancing over at the brave scout who was walking next to him. “In a meeting I had with him a few cycles ago, he declared just that. His physical appearance has certainly changed. He’s bigger, stronger and seems more mature, but looks can be deceiving, of course. Thus, I ordered tests to be administered on him to determine just how this change happened, but Ratchet was too busy. Now, Rodimus has apparently convinced some other Autobots to join him on his crazy crusade, and they’ve headed down to the surface on an unauthorized mission to attack the Decepticons."

Prowl paused for a moment to allow everything he had just said to sink in, shaking his cranial unit as he continued walking towards the bounce chamber. “I should’ve seen this coming and ordered Hot Rod quarantined the moment he made the insane claim that the Matrix had spoken to him. I guess I was just so overwhelmed with everything since Optimus disappeared that my logic circuits must’ve misfired or something. Of course, listening to Rodimus’ crazy talk didn’t help matters any. I’ll tell you one thing, ‘Bee, so help me Primus I won’t allow something like this to go unchecked again. Not ever."
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Re: Autobot Vessel Ark-22 - Far From Home

Postby Marcus Rush » Sun Oct 07, 2012 2:56 pm

Weapon: Automatic Acid-Pellet Gun
Leaving Forward Observation Lounge

The ranger gave a relieved shrug. The briefing had been relatively brief, for lack of a better observation, and had followed the prescribed dosage cure for insomnia. It pretty much laid out the whole goal of what he initially anticipated. Bounce down, and dig a hole and see what was below the surface of this blue green rock they now orbited. Of course Nova preferred the more action filled operational assignments, he did not argue with the task at hand. For the most part it left him with a rare opportunity to get off of the Guardian since coming to this pathetic rock. Being a ranger was fine, but unless there was a defined enemy presence or target, he was relegated to being a foot soldier until those skills he had honed since the early days of the war were needed.

Nova Strike pushed himself to his feet and gave himself a brief moment to stretch out his gears. His fingers popped briefly before his weapon holsters released their security locks briefly opening and then closing. Weapon systems registered fully armed and ready for activation. Another signal flashed in the corner of his optical HUD registering his bank of diversionary and offensive weapons such as smoke bombs, flash bangs and other magnetic or thermite grenades were fully stocked. Once satisfied with his stockpiles, Nova approached the gathering of Freeway, Prowl and Bumblebee.

"Attack on a con site sounds like a whole lot of fun." He quipped as he stepped from the table and made his way to the door. "Unfortunately, this newly modified Hot Rod is probably as reckless and crazy as the old model. No one in their right mind sends a raiding party down into hostile territory without first having the area surveyed by a Ranger."

He cocked a disappointed smile. "Don't beat yourself up Prowl. Everyone who was close to Optimus has been out of sorts and has allowed it to affect them, especially if they decided not to allow the grieving process to take effect." He made a nod to the mission commander. "Regardless of how things are now, I am confident that you and Magnus will put things right. This new Rodimus will learn soon enough that leading by example of bravado probably won't leave him many followers."

Nova Strike did not mention that he himself tended to lead by example and bravado. Fearlessly raiding enemy defenses and positions, thinning the potential opposition for a main Autobot strike force. But there was always a difference between leading a squad and leading an entire army. "As it is right now, Rodimus is Ultra Magnus's concern right now, ours is less thrilling but definitely more vital, as I am sure you will agree."

He accepted the role of vanguard as the doors leading to the primary corridor slid back into the recesses of the bulkhead. As the Autobot quartet exited the chamber, the day night terminus began to creep over their landing zone. Imperceptible pricks of light slowly crawled up deserted roads towards mountains ringing the hidden valley.
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Return to The Solar System - When Earth Is Not Enough

Transformers Podcast: Twincast / Podcast #105 - Megatronus
Twincast / Podcast #105:
"Megatronus"
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Posted: Sunday, November 23rd, 2014