Seibertron.com Energon Pub Forums

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.

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.”

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.”

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.

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.”<<

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.

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?”

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.”

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.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Sleep mode. Yeah, sleep to recharge only to start back up and blow us all to smithereens. Internal monologue…some people just couldn’t do it, thankfully Axle was more than capable.

“Heh, yeah. Sorry, I guess I’m just prone to overreacting too…at times.”

Still slightly apprehensive but willing to finally move the medic stepped out from behind the chair and worked his way back to his own work station where he began his analysis of the replicated narcotic. Carefully he took a small amount of fluid and placed it on an examination slide securing it with a cover slip.

Axle then held the glass up and took a close look with his optics magnified to its maximum capacity in order to ensure that there were no contaminants included in the sample. Satisfied that everything seemed to be on the up and up Axle placed the slide under the scope and let out a low sigh. After a moment of quiet contemplation Axle set his optics against the eye pieces and studied the images. He remained in silence while taking in everything he was looking at and then pulled away.

He wouldn’t know for sure if the replicated drug contained all of the required elements until he actually placed the sample in the electron microscope’s diagnostic computer. Which is just what Axle did. A few manipulations of the key pad and the device began to scan over the sample breaking each element down.

A low beep indicated that the scanning was completed, and just in time. Wheeljack had just questioned the medic about his findings. Although he had the information in front of him, Axle still took sever moments to give the engineer an answer.

“The good news is I think your replicator did an admirable job…the bad news, it failed to replicate three elements.”

Axle looked over to Wheeljack… a somber expression plastered on the field medic’s face. He took a quick look at the vial that he set down on the work bench. Axle then turned his attention back to the scientist.

“Maybe that burnt out circuit board had something to do with your device not replicating the last three elements. Call me crazy, but I say we rescan the vial, cross our actuators and hope your replicator gets it right.”
____

Tracer’s retreat was stopped when Smokescreen took hold of her upper arm. It had the desired effect causing the femme to turn around and face the rallybot. In her haste she forgot that she was already on the downside of her last fix…the Syk was wearing off but it was leaving behind its symptoms in the form of burning optic receptacles and a failing vocalizer. She had also begun to feel the onset of withdrawal. It was inevitable after all…the shaking, the pain, the confusion…but it was the desperation to stop the suffering that scared Tracer the most. For now, however, she would simply have to wait until Wheeljack and Axle were done with their work. And as far as Razr was concerned…Smokescreen was truly the only other person the little turbofox knew and trusted.

“Of course he knows you.”

The troubled femme flashed Smokescreen a weary smile and pressed her cheek into his hand but her smile faltered when he mentioned that she didn’t have to worry about him.

“I know you feel better, Smokescreen, but I’m more worried about Sideswipe and Sunstreaker…I mean those two alone are a handful but together…”

Tracer shook her head slightly and then stepped up a little closer to the blue and red mech...caressing the side of his faceplate. The scout let out a quick low sigh followed by a slight nod.

“Alright. Just…just be careful.”

Tracer followed Smokescreen’s line of sight when the latter glanced over at Wheeljack who was working on his device. She met the rallybot’s optics when they both turned back to look at one another.

“I know. But you do realize that you leaving means I’m still here with those two and when that thing goes I might be the one dragging them to the med bay.”

The scout shook her head and let out a light chuckle. Now that would be something.

“You better go before Sideswipe gets bored or he gets tired of waiting and decides to do a room by room check for me. Oh, and take this…”

She took a quick look back at the medic and the engineer but then turned her attention back to Smokescreen stepped in close to him and placed another kiss on his lips. The moment lasted only slightly longer than the last before Tracer pulled away and whispered into Smokescreen’s audio.

“I……thank you.”

Corridor – Near Bounce Chamber

It was only slightly difficult for the minibot to keep in step with the much larger mech. He had always been capable to compensate for his smaller size by performing much more dangerous tasks. His skills in reconnaissance, scouting and espionage were second to none. He just wasn't sure why he hadn't been asked to join the Spec Ops. Oh well, maybe when I get back I can have a talk with Jazz to see what he says. Maybe I can convince him that I’d be a great addition…probably should mention Mirage being a pretty good candidate too.

Bumblebee’s musings were interrupted when the questions he had asked earlier were now being answered by their current mission leader. Prowl was a good mech but his explanations and answers always grated on…well, everyone. Maybe it was his voice. Or the way he carried himself…always so stiff. His personality was…well, he actually had no personality…in fact he was aloof…seemed to keep the illusion that he was always unapproachable…and he probably liked it that way. I wonder if he’d glitch if he had to smile and mean it.

He let his thoughts wander but kept his audio half tuned into whatever Prowl was saying. As always the report was very Prowl-like…long and precise…although the bit about Ratchet was pretty interesting.

“Okay. So in short, Hot Rod has gone off the deep end and he’s taken a few of our guys with him.”

Bumblebee grew quiet as he absorbed everything that had been explained to him. Although he’d rather be helping his friends retrieve their wayward comrades, he also knew that Prowl was right…their mission to find an appropriate location for their new on-world head-quarters was of high priority. Without it they were sitting ducks in orbit. They stood a better chance on the surface in an area no one could find.

“You know a lot of people say that…I should have seen "this" coming…but how can you really know what "this" is? You need to let things play out to be sure that "this" is what you should have been looking out for.”

Bumblebee placed his hand on the tactician’s forearm and flashed Prowl a reassuring smile.

“No one’s perfect Prowl, and as much as that battle computer and your ability to run statistics at fantastic speeds brings you close to that level…you’re not either.”

A routine scouting mission looking for resources with the added prospect of trying to avoid contact with the planet's inhabitants of bi-pedal apes. It didn't sound dangerous and there was probably enough amusement to be had listening into the local communications traffic to keep him entertained during the boring parts of the survey.

Though one new development did concern him. “No air support? Did Silverbolt's airheads decide that a recon mission was beneath them, though I guess that would depend on their altitude!” Freeway laughed as his processors calculated the mission now minus the Aerialbots. Maybe they would show up later but it would be better and safer to assume there would be no air support for the duration of the entire mission in which case he was going to have to get pretty inventive when it came dealing with any aerial threats. He followed the rest of the reduced team out of the door, following behind the others.

“I guess now would be a good time to ask if anyone has bothered to pack any surface-to-air missiles?” he asked Prowl, “Not that I am looking for any confrontation with the Decepticons, kinda defeat the point of a covert recon mission but just thinking they might be worthwhile if we find ourselves having to fight an aerial threat,” he suspected Prowl with all his logical computers would have figured this out for himself but it was worth making certain.

The Throttlebot had no idea what was going on with the whole Rodimus but it struck him that if the higher-ups were having difficulty commanding things then clearly there were some serious issues to be resolved, hopefully that would all happen whilst the team were down on Earth.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack pulled his hand out of the guts of the replicator once the new circuit board was installed and then secured the cover back on top with one swift motion. Using a clean rag, the scientist wiped away the grime left behind by the smoke that had poured out of it less than a breem ago. Now the invention looked good as new and hopefully it would operate as such from here on out.

The mechanical engineer’s attention was quickly drawn away from the device by the sound of the field medic’s vocal processor. Unfortunately, what Axle had to say wasn’t what Wheeljack wanted to hear regarding the validity of the reproduced Syk. “Well, that’s disappointing,” the white mech replied plainly as he turned his head to look at the Autobot medic. “I suppose you’re right. We should try it again with the new circuit board now in place. I won’t give up until I get it right no matter how long it takes.”

Of course, they didn’t have forever to get the replication process correct. Tracer’s condition was worsening by the astrosecond and she would need her next fix soon if she was going to keep her sanity intact. Taking the original vile into his hand once again, Wheeljack placed it back into the replicator and had the contents scanned for the second time. Afterwards, he placed the vile back onto his workbench and then carefully checked the readouts on the side of his invention to ensure that all of the elements were accounted for.

“Okay, Axle, I think we are ready,” Wheeljack stated with some confidence as he again initiated the replication process and watched the device power up for the third time. “We should be good on this try. All of the ingredients were successfully scanned and included within the program’s algorithm,” the scientist explained, raising his vocals over the sound of the machine so that the field medic could hear him. The replicator then began vibrating again, causing a small amount of panic to wash through Wheeljack’s frame and nerve receptors. However, this time the vibrations were minor and there was no accompanying smoke. The circuit board was holding. Thank Primus it was working as it should.

A few more astroseconds passed and the device started its power down cycle, indicating that the replication process was near complete. Finally, Wheeljack exhaled what he had been holding in almost the entire time and glanced over at Axle again, giving him a relieved nod. The scientist then opened the side panel and reached into the mist that hung within the chamber, grasping ahold of a new vial of reproduced Syk. Pulling it out, ‘Jack held it up to optics level and smiled beneath his faceshield.

“It looks cleaner than the last sample,” Wheeljack commented as he handed the new vial over to Axle for analysis. “It’s not as cloudy in appearance. Perhaps that’s a good sign, don’t you think?” Of course, appearances could be deceiving and they wouldn’t know if the replicator worked perfectly this time until the field medic placed the most recent sample into the electron microscope’s diagnostic computer. Actuators crossed.
_________

Smokescreen smiled as Tracer’s concern for him was revealed not just by her words but by her facial expressions, as well. Even with her optics looking decayed and burnt out, her anxiety still showed through as clear as when her sight had been normal. “I can handle the twins, Trace. Sunny’ll probably be jealous of my new paint job and wish he looked this good. Heh.” The troubled femme then stepped in closer to him and finally agreed to let him go and get Razr. “I’m alway careful or....at least I try to be.”

The diversion expert chuckled slightly as he felt her caress his cheek plate. For a moment, Tracer’s attention broke away from him to check on Wheeljack’s progress. Her concerns were now on the resident mad scientist and that unstable contraption of his that may explode at any astrosecond. She was worried about having to drag both the inventor and the medic down to the med bay all by herself, a feat that she would have trouble accomplishing even if she wasn’t suffering from the effects of the Syk. “Well, I’m sure everything will be fine. Remember, those two did put me back together without blowing the place up. Everything will be okay, Trace. I promise.”

The rallybot nodded in agreement as she told him that he should go before Sideswipe got too restless while waiting for someone to come and retrieve her little pet. However, before she allowed him to leave, the troubled femme gave him one last parting gift - a kiss that he returned in kind. After a few moments, she pulled back and whispered a gentle thank you into his audio receptor.

Smokescreen smiled again as he looked directly into her deteriorating optics. “You’re very welcome,” the diversion expert replied as he gave Tracer a warm embrace before letting go of her and heading for the door. As the steel panels parted, Smokey paused briefly and glanced back over his shoulder plate at the worried femme. “I’ll be back before you know it,” the rallybot assured her before finally turning around and disappearing into the corridor beyond.

Corridor - Near Bounce Chamber

“I never said Hot Rod was in his right mind,” Prowl responded plainly to Nova Strike’s observations. “He clearly is not in his right mind in any way shape or form. His insane words alone spoke volumes which is why I should’ve done something when I had the chance. Prime’s death is no excuse for my inaction.” No matter what anyone said, the military strategist knew that he had failed in his job and now sparks were at stake. It was bad enough that they had lost Optimus, but now the Autobots were fracturing like a bunch of Decepticons fighting over the leadership mantle. It almost made the black and white want to purge his tanks in utter disgust. Still, the ranger was right in that Magnus would set things on the correct path once more and bring those who have strayed back into the fold one way or another.

Bumblebee’s subsequent sentiments echoed those of Nova Strike, trying to show the strategist that he wasn’t perfect and shouldn’t chastise himself over a situation that he couldn’t possibly predict the outcome of. Perhaps they were right to a certain extent. Even Prowl’s logic center couldn’t be correct all of the time especially in the face of such illogical assertions that the former cavalier had made. Still the black and white had a responsibility to protect those under his temporary command and he failed to do so. It was one more reason that showed Prowl was better suited to working behind the scenes and allowing someone else to take the reigns. At least now the situation could be salvaged with the loss of life at a minimum.

“I appreciate everyone trying to cheer me up,” Prowl began to say as the group rounded another corner. “But what’s done is done. Hopefully, Magnus will succeed in his mission which, in my opinion, is just as important and vital as ours. We can’t afford to lose any more of our comrades in arms. There are already so few of us left as it is.” The mission commander’s attention was then drawn to Freeway, whose comment regarding the wayward Aerialbots brought laughter only from the Throttlebot jokester. “Silverbolt and his team are not our concern at this point. They will back us up as needed. We should be able to handle things down there on our own just fine.”

The saboteur’s subsequent question regarding surface-to-air missiles was not one without merit, but it was also something that was already taken care of. “Good thought, Freeway, but I already have us covered with my shoulder-mounted rocket launchers. However, to take your point a step further, I feel that we should all make sure we are fully armed and ready just in case the Decepticons come calling either by air or even land.” The military strategist stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned towards his team. “Therefore, we’ll make a quick pit stop by the armory first and load up on the necessary ammo and weapons before heading down to the surface. By the time we reach the bounce chamber, Magnus and Kup will be well on their way and then we will depart on our mission. Now, let’s move.”

With that said, Prowl led the group of Autobots down towards the ship’s armory where he hoped to find a good selection of incendiary missiles for his shoulder launchers not to mention acid pellet cartridges for his rifle.

Wheeljack’s Lab

From the vial Axle looked back up to Wheeljack who had just finished repairing the replicator. Axle was apprehensive to use the device once more but it would be the easiest, not to mention the quickest way to replicate the Syk. Hopefully this time around with the new circuit board the device would actually work properly.

“Yes, very disappointing. But look at it this way, ‘Jack, it didn't explode and it performed a majority of the work…all pluses in my book.”

Axle flashed the masked scientist a genuine smile. It faded slightly as he took a quick look in the direction of Tracer who seemed to be heading toward the back room where the recharge berth Wheeljack occasionally used was located. The medic let out a heavy sigh and looked back to the white mech. Wheeljack, by that time, had already scanned the vial once again and started the replicator back up. Axle had to nearly strain to hear what the engineer was saying but he was able to make out that the device had successfully scanned the vial this time around and that the final three elements were actually included in the program.

Several seconds later the replicator shut down and ‘Jack opened the side panel. Reaching into the mist the vial was withdrawn and promptly handed over to Axle who in turn moved back to the electron microscope where he extracted a small amount of replicated Syk and mounted a small sample on a glass slide. In turn the medic placed the slide into the scope and set the program to scan.

The process went quickly, and with a soft beep that indicated that the scan was complete, Axle regarded the results. Sifting through the information that flooded the screen Axle took in everything that was pertinent.

“I think, ‘Jack, that you could actually start a business selling these contraptions, and I’d like to be placed on the top of that list.”

Axle took a look over his shoulder at the mech that was stationed next to his new working invention. The field medic flashed him a broad smile and a deep nod.

“It’s an exact duplicate of the original sample. Congrats.”
____

The embrace Smokescreen gave her was returned instantaneously. If she had been able to she would have gone with him just to be sure he would be alright and just to be in his presence. With her head pressed against his neck cables Tracer nodded gently at his response to her thanks.

The scout lifted her head slowly and stepped back giving the rallybot space to step around her and move to the door. For a moment Tracer kept her back to him but she then quickly turned to face him. Unfortunately the distance between them made it nearly impossible to make out all of his finer details Her optic deterioration had escalated.

She couldn't see him, but she had no trouble hearing him and with his final words Tracer nodded and smiled. Tracer heard the door hiss open, footsteps and then another hiss indicating that Smokescreen was now gone. Tracer let out a low sigh. The femme then turned on her heel and brought her hands up. As much as she tried to deny it she needed help getting around now. She began to slowly move toward the back of the lab where the small recharge room was located. There was no point in loafing around the lab…after all she’d just be in the way so the best place for her to be was the back room.

She slid her hands along the wall using the smooth surfaces as a guide to her destination. During her entire trek her processor was filled with more “what ifs” and “why couldn't I’s” than she could have ever recalled. What if this plan doesn't work? What if Smokescreen finds it impossible to help me and finally walks away before I can tell him exactly how I feel?

Tracer shook her head trying to clear her mind of such inane thoughts. As soon as her knee hit the edge of the berth she placed her hands down on its surface and climbed on top. Tracer settled in quickly and shut down her optics. She couldn't see anymore as it was there was no sense in wasting any more energy keeping them online.

The femme turned on her side and brought her knees up to her chest. A low moan escaped her vocalizer as the first pangs of pain washed over her body. She would need another fix as soon as possible.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack took a deep intake of air as he watched Axle place the latest sample of replicated Syk under the electron microscope. Thankfully, the scan was over with quickly and would hopefully produce the desired results. The field medic wasted no time in examining the findings as a multitude of data filled the small view screen. Once Axle had completed his analysis of the narcotic, he responded by complimenting the mechanical engineer’s accomplishment.

“So, does that mean...” Wheeljack asked without finishing his question. Instead, the medical officer confirmed what he had been hoping to hear. “Thank Primus!” The scientist shouted as he threw his arms up towards the ceiling before letting them fall back to his sides once more. “Heh, I’m not sure I want to start a business, considering how long it took me to get it right. As it is, I wouldn’t recommend running the replicator too often. Even with a new circuit board, it’s still kinda old and clunky. We don’t want to overuse it. Otherwise, we’ll be right back at square one again.”

The mechanical engineer then walked over to the worktable where the reproduced Syk was sitting and peered down at the vile. “I guess this means Tracer will be good to go for awhile. Of course, that still doesn’t resolve her underlying mental issues. I have no idea how we’re ultimately going to fix that. But at least we’ve bought ourselves some time to figure it out,” Wheeljack said, letting out a sigh as he glanced over to where Tracer was now resting on his usual recharge berth, her legs pulled up into a fetal position. “She doesn’t look too good over there,” the inventor noted as he returned his attention to Axle. “As long as you’re in agreement, we should probably administer the simulated Syk to her now before she gets any worse. We should also keep the original vile safely in storage as a back-up just in case I have to scan it again. The replicator's internal computer already has all of the elements saved on the hard drive so we don’t have to continuously re-scan the drug. However, you still never know when something will go wrong, resulting in lost data. We should be prepared for that. Just a suggestion, of course.”

Wheeljack looked over at the troubled femme again as her suffering was becoming more and more apparent to any mech with half a processor. It was then that the mad scientist finally realized that something was missing or, more accurately, someone. “Hey, where’s Smokescreen? He was just here an astrosecond ago. Did he leave the lab? Is it even safe for him to got out alone?”

Wheeljack’s Lab

From his position on the stool not far from the scientist and his invention, Axle sent Wheeljack a broad smile at his reaction. The replicator worked perfectly although there was a chance that if it was needed more often it might not remain functional.

“That’s right, ‘Jack your contraption worked perfectly…this time around.”

Axle flashed him an even broader smile with the mention of Wheeljack not wanting to open a business selling his contraptions…thank Primus. Upon the mention of the addicted femme and the uncertainty of just what to do after her addiction was handled…if it ever could…Axle turned to look in her direction. Tracer had retreated to the recharge berth set in the small back room within the lab.

The scout was lying on her side with both legs drawn up close to her chest resembling a tight fetal position. Axle regarded her form with more interest than previously. He slowly stood from the stool and simply nodded in response to Wheeljack’s suggestion.

“Yeah. Storing the original vial’s a good idea, ‘Jack.”

The field medic stepped into the back room and placed his hand gently on Tracer’s shoulder. The femme shook visibly and let out a low painful groan. Axle pulled his hand away rather quickly as concern fell upon his visage.

“Tracer? Tracer, look at me.”

Axle moved to jostle the femme again, but halted his action for fear he might cause her more pain. Instead he maneuvered around so he was in front of her field of view and squatted down. Tracer slowly turned her head up toward the sound of Axle’s voice…her optics still dark.

“Online your optics for me.”

“I…I can’t.”

Axle let out a heavy sigh and gently shook his head.

“I can’t see anymore.”

Gritting his teeth the medic took a look over his shoulder and back at the engineer. He shook his head lightly before looking back at the ailing scout.

“Your optics…Tracer, I’m going to administer some of the replicated Syk, but I need you to tell me the exact dose you utilize.”

“Full…Full vial.”

Axle pushed back from the berth and nodded…his lips drawn in a tight thin line. After several astrosconds the medic patted the surface of the berth and stood back up. He moved to where Wheeljack was still standing and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I never thought…we’re going to need that replicator in top condition, at least for the foreseeable future.”

It was then that the engineer brought up the missing Smokescreen. Axle quickly lowered his arms and took a long look around the immediate area. The medic let out a low growl; a deep scowl set on his face.

“No. He should be here, resting. He still needs to be monitored. Unbelievable!”

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack nodded when Axle gave the go ahead to keep the original vial of Syk safely stored away until such time as it might be needed again. Grabbing said vial, the mechanical engineer wasted no time in moving to a nearby cabinet where he placed the narcotic inside and subsequently locked the door with a security code that only he and the field medic would be privy to.

At the same time, Axle had made his way to Tracer’s side to check on her condition and find out from her what the necessary dosage was that she normally took. Wheeljack watched the two mechs converse briefly as the scientist returned to his prior position. Moments later, the medical officer moved back over to where the scientist stood and mentioned that the replicator would need to be kept in top condition for the foreseeable future if they were going to keep Tracer’s addiction under control. ‘Jack nodded in agreement as Axle then became angered by the fact that Smokescreen had left the lab too soon without proper supervision.

“I agree, Axle,” Wheeljack replied as he glanced over at the troubled femme once again before returning his attention to the field medic. “I’m sure Tracer knows where he went. He’s probably off doing something for her, I’d imagine. Perhaps we should question her about it. Of course, in her condition she may not be able, or willing, to give us a straight answer.”

Not wanting to waste further time wondering about his recently rebuilt comrade, Wheeljack opened a secured comm line to the diversion expert:

>>”Smokescreen, this is Wheeljack. Where the slag are you? You still need to rest up. You’re not at 100% yet regardless of how well you may feel! If you’re going to leave the lab, you need an escort! Smokescreen! Please respond immediately!”<<

After several astroseconds without a reply from the rallybot, Wheeljack cast another worried look over at Axle. “It’s not like him to ignore a friend, especially considering the circumstances. So, either he’s turned off his comm so we won’t bother him, or he’s in some kind of trouble, again, and can't respond. Maybe I should go out looking for him before I perform any maintenance work on the replicator. All this could be for naught if he gets in over his head and someone, like say Red Alert, finds their way back here.”

A short time later....

Secure Message from Smokescreen to Tracer:

>>”Hey, Trace, it’s Smokescreen. I’m fine and you’ll be happy to know that Razr is away from Sideswipe. What an aft hole he was, but I’ll fill you in on those details later. The only unfortunate thing is that Razr has run off again, but I’ve got Bluestreak here helping me search for him so it shouldn’t be too much longer. Take it easy in the meantime and I’ll see you soon.”<<

Wheeljack’s Lab

The scowl on his face merely deepened as Axle ran through all of the possible scenarios that could be occurring right now while Smokescreen is off gallivanting. All the medic needed the rallybot to do was rest and recover…after that than whatever. But no! Instead the hero had to go running off in order to save his lady-love from some other peril. Slag.

Axle let out a low, nearly, inaudible sigh.

“No, she might not even remember what they last talked about. Look…”

The medic made his way to the replicated narcotic and took a firm grip on the vial. He then grabbed an injector and turned back to face Wheeljack. Axle turned his gaze from the equipment he had just taken possession of toward Tracer who was curled in to herself even tighter now. With a shake of his head the field medic loaded the vial’s contents…save the final 15%...into the injector.

"...I’m going to administer the Syk. Just so we’re clear…the effects will take hold rather quickly. Her pain will subside but she’ll wind up paralyzed. Circuit Speeders have the tendency to do that. It won’t last forever, but long enough for you to do a bit of work on her optics.”

Axle checked the setting on the device and took a quick glance back in Wheeljack’s direction.

“I’ll go and find Smokescreen. I have a feeling that if you head out there you and Red will cross paths and the inquisition will begin. I don’t think Red knows I’m helping you out so if we happen to bump into one another it won’t raise his suspicions.”
____

Tracer let out another pain-filled groan as she attempted to change her position on the berth. Every movement was torture. After a short rest the femme once more tried to extend her legs and turn over…the act only send tendrils of white hot agony through her every joint.

She finally relented and pulled her knees back up toward her chest where she wrapped her arms securely around them. With her optics non-functional Tracer needed to rely on her other sensors in order to ‘see’ the world around her.

Through her pitched intakes she could hear Wheeljack and Axle discussing something about a missing person…then something about Circuit Speeders. The light beeping that came across her processor let her know that she had just received a secure message from…from…Smokescreen…

“Smokescreen? Where…Smokescreen?”

As much as she wanted to, Tracer was unable to focus long enough to open the communique and determine just what the matter was….if there was anything.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack paid close attention as Axle retrieved an injector before loading the replicated Syk into the device in preparation of administering the narcotic to Tracer. The field medic then explained what he was about to do and what effects could be expected once the drug had entered the femme’s systems. The paralysis he described should give the mechanical engineer just enough time to fix, or at least improve, Tracer’s failing optics.

“I’ll be able to restore her sight without much of a problem,” Wheeljack confirmed as Axle moved towards the drug-addicted femme. “As for the scorch marks around her sockets, well, I might be able to clean them up some so she can pass for a normal mech again. However, her vision is my primary concern.” The mad scientist then nodded in agreement when the field medic offered to go look for Smokescreen, himself, noting that if ‘Jack encountered Red Alert during his travels it would only lead to more intrusive questioning from the security expert. “Agreed. It’s better that I stay here, anyway, and work on Tracer’s optics.

With the important decisions out of the way for now, Wheeljack headed for a storage closet and began rummaging through it for the tools he would need to fix the troubled femme’s damaged eyes. Before long, he found an optical repair kit sitting on a lower shelf and quickly took hold of it. Peering inside, the inventor could see that everything he needed was included. There were mini-pliers, a laser cutter, optical screwdriver, soldering pen and replacement lenses. Now, all he had to do was wait for Axle to administer the Syk to Tracer. The mechanical engineer looked over at the field medic and watched closely, hoping the pain-riddled femme did not have any kind of adverse reactions to the reproduced narcotic.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Axle remained silent while he regarded Wheeljack. The engineer would be more than capable of repairing Tracer’s optics although the heat damage already done to the optical sockets might be a bit more difficult to reverse. Still it was something the both of them could work with.

With a nod indicating his agreement and understanding the medic took one more look at the injector’s settings before making his way back over to the addicted femme’s side.

Tracer groaned lowly as another wave of pain washed over her already tired and sensitized frame. The intensity seemed to be growing steadily with no sign of relenting anytime soon. The femme already knew exactly what would make it all go away. She nearly fell from the berth when she felt a hand gently touch her shoulder…the touch, although meant to be light, still sent shock waves of fiery agony coursing through her body.

“Tracer? Tracer…it’s Axle.”

The femme drew in a deep breath before turning her head in the direction of the medic’s voice. Her brow furrowed as she fought back a new groan of pain. Carefully Tracer reached up and took a hold of Axle’s forearm. Her grip tightened as she tried to pull herself up to get closer to the doctor.

“Ax…Axle…please. Hu…it hurts so mu….much. I need…make it stop. Please…make it stop.”

The medical officer shook his head slowly as he watched and listened to the femme beg for the one thing that she believed would make her suffering end. It was disheartening to see a perfectly good person reduced to begging for a drug that did nothing but ruin her life.

“It’s okay, Tracer. I’ll make it go away, but I need you to turn onto your back. Here, let me help…”

Relief washed over Tracer when she finally heard that the doctor would stop the pain. She nodded at his request for her to turn onto her back and accepted when took hold of her legs and helped her move into position. She ignored the discomfort knowing that it would go away if she cooperated.

Axle waited for a moment until the femme had settled down enough for him to sit on the edge of the berth without agitating her further. The medic let out a heavy sigh as he reached up and placed his hand gently against her lower jaw. Slowly he pushed to the side and up exposing one of the main energon lines that ran down her neck.

“Alright, you’re gonna need to hold still…”

She grew motionless as she felt the sharp tip of the injector press into the hard line…and then came the familiar sensation of warmth. Almost immediately her tense body relaxed and she let out a low contented sigh. Once the entire vial was administered Axle removed the ejector and placed it on a side table. From a storage compartment in his leg he produced a portable medical scanner and began taking several readings.

The Syk coursed through her systems quickly and Tracer was more than happy to be along for the ride. Everything went away…the pain, her highly sensitized sensations, and all of the muddled thoughts…all of them gone. And the more she relaxed the more things became clear.

To Axle’s relief the scans seemed to all be within normal parameters…for an addict. He lowered the scanner and watched as the femme’s mouth opened wide as if she was ready to speak but she produced no noise. Her movements then stopped…her body growing lax as paralysis took hold. Axle motioned for Wheeljack.

“Alright. She’s in that paralyzed state I told you about. It’ll last for a while so you’ll have plenty of time to repair her optics. One thing…”

He took a quick glance back at the blue and white femme before looking back up at his assistant.

“She’s still fully aware…she just can’t talk, move or react. And she can still feel.
The repair will have to be taken care of with her awake. I have no intention of pumping her full of sedatives or pain inhibitors. Primus knows how they’ll interact with the Syk.”

Axle got up off the berth, stored his scanner and placed a hand on Wheeljack’s shoulder. He gave it a gentle squeeze before moving past the white mech and back into the main laboratory.

“I’m gonna go reign in our wayward patient. I’ll be back as soon I can.”

His intentions made clear, Axle left the scientist’s lab to begin his search for Smokescreen.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Wheeljack watched as Axle administered the replicated Syk to Tracer. Within moments, paralysis set in. The scientist then listened as the field medic explained the situation more thoroughly, revealing that the troubled femme was still conscious and could feel and hear everything that was going on around her. Worse still, Axle could not give her any pain killers due to the unknown reaction they would have with the Syk. This would make the mechanical engineer’s job a bit more difficult to perform with the knowledge that he would be hurting her unintentionally.

“I understand,” Wheeljack said with a nod as Axle left the lab to go look for Smokescreen. Without wasting any time, the white mech made his way to Tracer’s side and knelt down, setting the optical repair kit next to her on the berth. “Tracer, it’s Wheeljack. I know that you can hear me. I’m going to try and repair the damage to your optics. Once I’m finished you should be able to see again. However, the heat damage around your sockets may not be as easy to fix, but I’m more concerned now with your actual vision.” The scientist paused for a moment as he opened the kit and retrieved an optical magnifier. He then attached the round device over his right optic, allowing him to see deep within Tracer’s damaged eyes.

“I apologize in advance if I hurt you, Tracer. I promise I’m going to be as gentle as I can. Unfortunately, some of what I must do will cause you pain. I’m very sorry,” Wheeljack said gently as he placed a soft hand on her shoulder plate and leaned in closer to her. Peering through the magnifier, the scientist could see the damage to the troubled femme’s optics clearly and quickly ascertained what needed to be done in order to fix them. Pulling back slightly, the engineer grabbed a pair of mini-pliers before regarding Tracer with a concerned look. Thus far what he had done had been painless, but that was about to change. “Tracer, I’m going to work on your left optic first and then move on to your right. I need to remove the lens so that I can access and fix the circuitry within the eye, itself. The heat from the Syk has melted away some of the nerve receptors to the retinas in both optics which is why you cannot see. Once the connections are re-established, I will install a replacement lens and your vision should be restored as it was before. Okay?”

Wheeljack knew perfectly well that Tracer could not respond to him, but he spoke to her as if she could anyway. It was simply a force of habit that made no difference one way or the other. Bringing the mini-pliers up to bear, ‘Jack leaned in again and began using the tool to grasp a hold of the left lens by the delicate edges. Once the pliers were secured, he turned the lens clockwise, which unlatched it from the optic, itself. Removing the lens and setting it aside, the engineer retrieved a soldering pen from the repair kit and ignited it. This is where the real pain would start as the scientist began fixing the connections that had been severed by the highly addictive narcotic.

“Again, I’m very sorry. This is going to hurt,” Wheeljack warned her as he delved into her left optic with the soldering pen. It took only a short time to make the necessary repairs, but it probably felt like an eternity to Tracer who could do nothing but suffer through the procedure with no way to react. Although, it was probably not as bad as the agony she had already endured from the Syk withdrawals. “There,” the scientist muttered as he placed the soldering pen down and reached for the mini-pliers again. ‘Jack then installed a brand new lens, turning it counter-clockwise until it locked into place.

Wheeljack repeated the same process with Tracer’s right optic, encountering no issues as he performed the procedure again. The scientist persistently apologized to her, finding it very difficult knowing that he was causing her even more pain. Finally, repairs on both eyes were completed. “Okay, I’m all done now, Tracer. Whatever pain you felt should be going away now. Again, I’m sorry.”

Placing the tools back into the optical repair kit, Wheeljack stood up and walked to the nearest worktable. The mechanical engineer let out a deep sigh as he grabbed a clean rag and some Corrostop before returning to the white and blue scout’s side. “I’m going to try and scrub away some of the scorch marks from around your optics using Corrostop. As for the actual heat damage on the inner part of your sockets, I’ll need Axle’s expertise for that. You should feel no pain with this. I promise.” The scientist then applied some Corrostop to the rag and began to gently wipe away the ugly black marks that had stained her metal skin.

Wheeljack’s Lab

Tracer wanted more than anything to speak to Wheeljack…to let the worried scientist know that even though the repairs he was about to perform would cause her pain that she knew it was all necessary. Her attempts failed miserably. The paralysis that ravaged her frame also prevented her from using any of her sensors. She couldn't even open a comm link to send a reassuring message.

At first she could feel slight pressure, but that soon vanished. She then could hear Wheeljack explain what he was preparing to do and again apologize for her impending discomfort. The cool touch of metal from the pliers was the first sensation that she felt, but it was replaced by the feel of the tool remove the lens covering her optic.

As if she were even capable of doing it, Tracer prepared for the inevitable pain that was to come hoping that it would not be was bad as expected…and it wasn't…it was worse. Much, much worse. The scout wanted to scream but no matter what she tried nothing escaped her vocalizer. Not one muscle cable tensed…there was nothing. Trapped in a paralytic state with no means of expression but capable of sensing everything…it truly was a living hell.

And then it was over. The pain started to subside. Unfortunately she would not be able to reboot her optics until the paralyzing effects wore off, but at least she knew she’d be able to see again. The scorch marks that surrounded her optic sockets were going to be much more difficult to reverse. No big deal, Wheeljack. I can live with that. Oh yeah…you can’t hear me.

I really wish you could hear me. I owe you and Axle so much. I don’t think I could ever come close to repaying you both. I just hope a heartfelt thank you will be enough, because it’s really all I can offer. Her monologue would never make it out of her mouth even with her jaw locked in a slack position…she’d just have to be patient and speak with both the engineer and the medic when the Syk’s effects lessened.

Armory

Entering the armory, Prowl made a beeline to the ammunitions locker where he entered the appropriate security code which gave him access to the items within. He briefly rummaged through the compartment before locating the acid pellet cartridges for his rifle. Grabbing what he needed, the military strategist left the locker open for the rest of his team to acquire whatever ammo fit their weapons. Moving across the room, the black and white found one of the heavy duty containers where the more powerful explosive shells were stored. Again, he entered the required code and opened the top lid, exposing a variety of bombs and rockets. Prowl’s optics scanned the contents before leaning forward and retrieving a number of incendiary missiles. He then straightened his posture and carefully loaded them into his shoulder launchers.

Once he was fully equipped and ready to go, Prowl turned to face his team of Bumblebee, Freeway and Nova Strike. “Okay everyone, grab what you need and then we’ll make our way down to the bounce chamber. Ultra Magnus and Slingshot should have left the ship by now, so we should be able to leave immediately for our intended Earth-bound destination. If you have any further questions regarding our mission, now is the time to ask. Otherwise, we depart in two breems.”

Prowl’s words were direct and to the point, showing little to no emotion as he spoke them. Even though this was only a scouting mission, the logical mech took it very seriously as it was no less important than the task that now befell Magnus and the others who were trying to reel in Rodimus and his wayward band of rebels. Hopefully, success would be achieved on both fronts, but the military strategist could only be concerned about his own assignment. He needed to remain focused and trust that the City Commander would do what was necessary to reunite the Autobots once more. It was imperative in the overall war effort if they were to maintain an advantage against the Decepticons.

Walking over to the doorway of the armory, Prowl stood and waited for his scouting team to finish gathering what weapons and ammo they would require.

Bounce Chamber

Ultra Magnus tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the two support soliders he had summoned from the depths of the 22 to arrive. Tonton, a mechanism who specialized in Jungle Combat, and Bidder, a mechanism who specialized in defensive maneuvers. Neither had been given the opportunity to acquire an earth vehicle form since arriving in system but for the purpose of recovery, Magnus was not exactly in a place to quibble about details. Kup's emergency beacon had already bought out a terrifying reality of what was going on down there. Autobots were being overrun by other Autobots and a nest of Decepticons.

"So, we going to get this show on the road? I'm itchin to get another shot at clearing the skies before that idiot hypocrate Blades gets all the glory." Slingshot whined as he fastened the belt containing three EMP Mines into his internal drop magazines. "Not that he can do the job, he is a Protectobot after all."

Magnus glared down at the Aerialbot sharp shooter. He was about to order the immediate activation of the bounce protocols when the doors slid open to reveal a plump lime green barrel keg looking mechanism with forest green trim followed by a much more narrow profiled mechanism with a reverse forest camo pattern. "Bidder, Tonton..."

"Reporting as ordered. Ready to kick some Decepticon fender." The thicker Autobot cracked his knuckles as he stepped onto the reinforced bounce pad. The sound of plastics cracking under his incredible weight only served to worry Magnus. Bidder had some of the thickest armor available for deployment. Meaning he could help First Aid defend the wounded while the Protectobot Medic worked his magic.

For Tonton's acknowledgement he simply nodded. The lithe Autobot pulled out a Pathfinder rifle and slapped in a random ionized clip into the magazine chamber. He flicked the safety off and entered a ready position.

"Very well. Chief, Initiate Bounce."