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Message from Axle to Wheeljack

>>"Understood, ‘Jack. Unfortunately I am also indisposed at the moment, but I will make every effort to stop by the lab to check on the two of them. They shouldn’t need to use the replicator any time soon. The dose I gave to Tracer should last for approximately five days. As far as finding something for them to do…I’ll need to think on that. Anyway, good luck and if anything comes up I’ll call you."<<

Wheeljack’s Lab

Upon entry into the mechanical engineer’s hold Tracer remained safely behind Smokescreen, her hand still held in his, as he took the time to look around the immediate area. When he turned to look at her and smiled Tracer’s tension eased up enough to flash the red and blue mech a small smile of her own. She was just about to comment on his relief of not receiving a lecture when something caught her attention.

Tracer nearly stumbled back and into the door when Wheeljack appeared out of the back room. The femme released a low groan as she looked at the scientist. He’d emerged with his faceshield in place and his arms crossed over his chest. She said nothing, instead she concluded that the best course of action was to let the diversionary expert take over and try to explain what they’d been up to.

Everything Smokescreen had confessed appeared to placate Wheeljack and he back off slightly. There was a lecture, but it wasn’t as bad as she had thought it was, or as bad as it could have been. Tracer’s interest was piqued slightly, and the dressing down forgotten, at the mention of the possible construction of a new base back on Earth. She hadn’t been on the planet for long and she was tempted to head back down. If only to have a better look around. Her hopes were dashed, however, when Wheeljack declared that they’d be better off staying put and that only when Axle deemed them well enough would they be allowed to leave the lab. Active duty would obviously not be allowed unless Axle said so. Tracer let out a low sigh of disappointment.

Smokescreen’s suggestion of cleaning up the lab was not one she would have preferred and instead of eagerly agreeing the femme gave a firm poke to the back of the blue and red mech’s arm. “Seriously? I hate cleaning my own quarters and you’ve volunteered me to clean ‘Jack’s place?” She moaned into his audio.

Once Wheeljack had left and the door had closed Tracer crossed her arms over her chest and sent Smokescreen a grimace. “The confrontation went just fine.” She lowered her arms and took a slow step toward him. “It’s the housekeeping I’m not very happy with.” Tracer said while she jabbed a finger into his chestplate. But her irritated expression quickly faded replaced by a much more serene look.

Her lips curled upward slightly as she shook her head. “You’re lucky I love you or you’d be doing all the cleaning yourself.” Tracer walked past him letting her hand lightly brush across his. “I’ll get some energon for Razr while you start. Now…” the femme huffed. “…where does ‘mister danger’ keep his dispenser?”

Science Lab

“Hmmm. That isn’t a bad Idea, Jetfire.” Perceptor spun around in his chair and looked up at the taller scientist. “But as you said, my work on the ore will have to be put on hold. At least until we find out why Wheeljack has gathered us all here.” From his seat he peered around the jet-former and gave a slight nod to Blaster and Iron Fist who had just recently arrived. Why both were needed was something Wheeljack would have to explain. As, he was sure Jetfire was thinking, the two were not scientists but instead were masters in their respective fields of communications and ballistics engineering. With a mental shrug Perceptor simply decided to go with the flow…for now at least.

“Was the purpose of this meeting revealed to any of you as of yet, or will we be required to bide our time before our administrator arrives?”

Wheeljack’s Lab

Smokescreen flinched slightly when Tracer had given him a firm poke in his back and then again when she jabbed her digit into his chest plating. She was clearly not happy about being volunteered to clean up Wheeljack’s mess, making her feelings known in no uncertain terms. Thankfully, her stern look didn’t last very long as her features softened into a much less frightening visage. “Yes, I am very lucky,” the rallybot confessed as the troubled femme walked by him, allowing her hand to gently touch his. “And I’m sorry I volunteered you for housekeeping duty. I was just trying to find something for us to do, and I didn’t think you’d mind. If you’d rather rest up and take care of Razr for a while, I don’t mind doing the work, myself.”

Not waiting for a response, Smokescreen walked over to the nearest work benches and began gathering up the various tools and equipment that were strewn about in no ascertainable order. The diversion expert quickly stowed away the larger hardware in a storage locker while the smaller implements fit nicely inside a drawer. “I tell you, Trace, Wheeljack has so many places where he can store things, it’s amazing he’s able to find all his stuff. I mean, nothing’s marked. I really don’t know how he does it.” Smokey then perked his cranium up, an idea forming within his processor. “Hmmm, maybe once I’m done cleaning I should print out some labels for him. He might find that helpful. It’s the least I can do considering all he’s done for me lately.”

With his mind made up, Smokescreen went about tidying up other areas of the lab. Towards the back, he found that there were still several crates full of equipment from Cybertron that the mechanical engineer never had a chance to unpack. The white mech had recently been diverted from such mundane tasks, after all. Perhaps it was finally time to move the scientist fully into his new abode. Opening the lid of the first container he came upon, the red and blue racer began unloading the contents within. It was easy to empty, placing everything temporarily onto worktables and even the floor. What wasn’t so easy was finding an area to put all of the extra equipment in a nice, orderly fashion. Disarray was simple; order and neatness, not so much.

Smokescreen let out a sigh as he looked around the lab. The back storage closet was the most likely place to put everything, not to mention the largest space left available. “I can see now why you were upset at the prospect of cleaning, Trace. Heh. This is going to take more effort than I thought, especially now that I’ve found these extra crates back here. Plus, I’m only on the first one. Sheesh. How much stuff does one mad scientist need anyway?”

Science Lab

Wheeljack sent a non-verbal acknowledgement back to Axle as the mechanical engineer made his way through the corridors of the Autobot vessel. The science lab was his intended destination and he arrived there in approximately one breem after leaving Smokescreen and Tracer alone in his lab. Assuming, of course, they were even still there. Smokey said that they were going to clean up for him, but knowing those two they’ve probably already scurried off somewhere on another one of their little adventures. Hopefully, they would keep out of trouble no matter what they ended up doing.

Entering the science lab, Wheeljack found that the majority of his team were present and accounted for plus one additional member in the form of certain red and white flier. Only Hoist was missing from the equation, but ‘Jack was certain that the green mechanic would arrive sooner rather than later. “Greetings, gentlemechs!” The engineer stated cheerfully as he gave a curt nod to Jetfire, Perceptor, Iron Fist and Blaster. “I have to say that I’m very excited about what is in store for each of us, including you, Jetfire. I know that you didn’t get the initial invite, but you’re more than welcome to join our newly formed science team if you like. Primus knows that your expertise will be greatly appreciated with the multitude of tasks that have been assigned to us by Ultra Magnus.”

Wheeljack then placed his toolkit down on a nearby table before turning to face his team once again. “First off, I want to apologize for my lateness. I had a few things to take care of down in my lab which delayed me a bit. Now that I’m here, I look forward to dedicating my time to this upcoming endeavor. I see that Hoist appears to be the only one of our group that is missing, but I think we can get started anyway. He can easily be brought up to speed once he arrives.”

The mechanical engineer took a deep intake of air into his systems as he prepared to speak. “I recently had a meeting with Ultra Magnus where he revealed to me that we are in the scouting and planning stages of building a new Autobot City down on the surface of Sol-3, also known as Earth. He has put us together, along with anyone else I may require, in order to develop new technologies and modify old ones that will be utilized in the base’s cycle to cycle operations. This can be anything from new forms of waste disposal to natural ore refinement to bigger issues such as transportation and defense.

“Now, there are two primary tasks of top importance that Magnus would like us to focus much of our efforts on. Both of these tasks involves modifying older technologies, which I have already been given the appropriate schematics for. The first is converting an ancient space bridge design into a scaled down version that I have dubbed a ground bridge. It will be a new means of transporting mechs and equipment from one part of the planet to another. Orbital bounces will be a thing of the past as Magnus feels they are too dangerous to keep in operation due to the fact that the ‘Cons could trace the bounce beams back to their origin point. A ground bridge is an alternative that is virtually untraceable.”

Wheeljack paused for a moment to let what he had just explained sink in to every mech present. “The second task involves modifying the designs of old Teletraan Sky Spy modules. Instead of serving as solely our optics and audios up in orbit, they will also more importantly serve as a virtual net or shield that will prevent the 'Cons from utilizing their own orbital bounce technology. Magnus wants the planet inaccessible to our enemies and this ‘SkyShield’ will hopefully make that a reality.”

The mechanical engineer looked at each of the assembled scientists and engineers in front of him, trying to gauge their reactions to the massive undertaking he had just laid out for them. “I can see by some of your expressions that this may seem a bit overwhelming to you. However, I am more than confident in all of your abilities to get the job done. Together, we will accomplish these ongoing set of tasks and make our new Autobot City a permanent and safe home here on Earth.”

Wheeljack’s faceshield then retracted, revealing a warm, friendly smile underneath. “Now, let’s open the floor to any questions and/or meaningful discussions on specifics of the upcoming project. Brainstorming and teamwork will be essential parts of the process here, and I want everyone’s opinions and ideas to be heard.”

Science Lab

Ironfist shrugged his shoulders as he pulled his tool sash from around his head and set it to the floor. He had not been given details to this vital meeting of the minds, in fact all he had known about it was the initial transfer orders he had received from Wheeljack. A simple rub of his chin was all he could muster to Jetfire's question, after a brief greetings and nod to both he and Perceptor.

The hiss of the doors soon revealed their mysterious benefactor engineer. Ironfist paused briefly and moved away from the bay doors. Without a word he hefted up his tools satchel and slung it over his free shoulder. A few steps later he found himself comfortably settled on a stool behind one of the smaller work benches.

The briefing began as swiftly as Wheeljack had managed to get himself set up. It was swift and to the point. "A new Autobot City?" Ironfist could not help but loose a small amount of awe into his muted question. From what he had remembered, Optimus had wanted to avoid such constructions on the planet below. However, it was swiftly apparent that Ultra Magnus had other opinions on the matter. And from the ever growing number of Decepticons in system, from a tactical prospective it made a small amount of sense to fortify their position. But to create a permanent settlement on a planet of savage organics?

The rest of the briefing was just as illuminating as the initial statement. "Wait," he barely contained his outburst. But it was too late and attention had been seized. Not necessarily a mech of charisma nor of the sort who sought the spotlight, all optics were now upon him... and Ironfist could feel their prying processors drill into his armor plates. There was little choice left but to at least verbalize what was on his mind. "Let me get this straight, as you say it is a touch much to take in on an initial dose. Magnus wants us to inessence turn Sol-3 into a fortress planet? That does seem a bit counter intuitive to the idea of Autobots do not Conquer."

He paused briefly, "Regardless of that, the task he has put before us is rather interesting. To revise old technology could inspire some interesting newer applications in modern arsenal development."

Training Facilities - Shooting Range

Keep it cool. Just keep it cool.

Beretta was holding one of her heavy pistols out in front, aiming at the dummy targets with steady manual actuators. Something was still amiss, though. She found this stationary practice utterly uncomfortable. How on Cybertron Dragu managed to lie still for cycles and then take a perfect shot, she'd never get the hang of.

She pulled the trigger. A muzzle flare, a deep bang and a fist-sized ball of flame and puffing smoke blooming just under the chin of the mech-shaped target cobbled together from totaled and excess parts. Her explosive round found its mark.

She fired again several times. The roar of her gun echoed repeatedly in the large chamber. The dummy suffered more bursts, some dead-centered on vital body areas, some barely grazing arms or legs. And a very, very few misses, too.

Slag.

Achieved hit percentage flickered on her HUD. She wasn't impressed, even if it could have been a lot worse. With a frown, Beretta spun the gun on her finger and slid it neatly into the holster mag-locked to her thigh-plate.

If this was going to continue, she was going to lose that bet.

"Well, Arcee, it's your turn now," Beretta said and turned to the other femme standing behind her and to the left with arms crossed over her chest. A cocky smirk crept across her face. "Just make sure you do a better job."

Wheeljack’s Lab

Tracer paused in her search for the energon dispenser when Smokescreen admitted that he’d thought the activity would do them both some good…just standing around the scientist’s lab was enough to push the femme over the edge. In truth getting things in order here would do her some good, and possibly teach her a lesson in organization. Of course she was concerned that the object of her affection had been surprised by her sudden aggressive behavior.

She turned around and sent Smokescreen a warm smile as she moved to stand in front of him. She kept her optics glued to his as she reached out and took a hold of his hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get angry with you.” The smile on her face faded slightly as she lowered her gaze to the floor. “The Syk is working, but since it’s not the full dose…” She paused for a moment trying to find the right words to describe just how things seemed to work. “It’s really hard to describe to someone who’s never been through...you know…an episode.”

Tracer let her hands drop to her sides. “You know how you feel when you’re working the cards at the casino and you wind up winning that huge pot? You’re elated. Well, for me I’ll feel elated, but then that feeling just suddenly shifts…like someone’s pulled the rug right out from beneath me.” She lifted her head back up and gave Smokescreen a halfhearted smile. “I doubt that’s even the best description. I mean, I’m the only one I even know of who has this problem.” She shrugged. “I guess the better way to describe it is like I’m on an emotional elevator and I have no clue what floor I’ll stop at.”

The scout tilted her head slightly to one side and thought for a moment. “Yeah. I’d say that’s a much better description.” A moment passed of quiet contemplation before she finally looked back up at Smokescreen with a wide grin on her face. “Anyway, I don’t want you doing all the work yourself. Buuuut….” She took a glance over his shoulder at the storage closet Smokescreen had been working in. “Maybe we should stick with organizing the items that we actually recognize. I mean, I don’t want to disturb anything that just may blow a hole in the hull of the ship.”

She chuckled as she shook her head. “Give me a minute to get something for Razr and I’ll give you a hand.” Tracer backed away and whistled for the turbofox who trotted happily into the main lab. She perked up when she finally spotted the energon dispenser. After locating something to use as a bowl she filled the container set it on the floor and moved back to the red and blue rallybot. “You know, I was thinking, maybe after we get this place in order we could…oh I don’t know…take a walk?” Tracer gave him a pleading look.

Science Lab

Perceptor’s question hung in the air for only a moment before Wheeljack had finally entered the lab. The scientist turned sniper returned the engineer’s nod before setting comfortably in his chair. He crossed his arms over his chest as Wheeljack began to address the lot of them.

Everything said was absorbed and quickly analyzed by the scientist. It all seemed an interesting endeavor; however it was a daunting task even for the gathered minds present. That didn’t mean it couldn’t be done. What Perceptor was more concerned about was the ore that still needed to be tested. And if he knew the Decepticons, and he did, they had already refined the ore and had already implemented it. To him the most pressing matter was getting their sample tested and put to use.

“It certainly would be quite an undertaking. However, there is another matter that needs our attention.” Perceptor glanced in Jetfire’s direction before gesturing over his shoulder with a slight jerk of his head. “The sample of ore that I had acquired from the site of the decimated Decepticon base.” He paused for a moment as he looked at Wheeljack that newly acquired dour expression etched on his face. “I’ve refined it and it’s now ready for testing.” He glanced at the others in the room before settling his attention back on the engineer. “There is a very high probability that the Decepticons have already refined and have put into use the ore. That is something we cannot afford to ignore.”

Wheeljack’s Lab

Smokescreen was about to go back to cleaning up the lab when Tracer sudden appeared in front of him, giving the rallybot a warm smile. As she reached out and took his hands into her own, she apologized for yelling at him earlier, admitting that while the Syk was working it hadn’t been a full dose and thus her mood could still swing from hot to cold in an instant. The diversion expert never completely understood what her condition did to her or how it worked exactly. He never wanted to ask for fear of upsetting her. However, now Smokey didn’t have to as the troubled femme offered up the best explanation she could think of. The casino comparison was inspired and helped him to better comprehend her mental frame of mind and how it could fluctuate so suddenly.

“That sounds terrible,” Smokescreen admitted as the femme’s hands withdrew from his. “I can’t imagine living like that. Although, I can’t believe that there’s no one else with your affliction. There has to be someone with at least a similar condition. If we could just find that individual, maybe we could learn a way to better manage it. You know, if it wasn’t for this Primus-forsaken war, maybe there would have been a legitimate doctor somewhere who might have found cure by now, but I digress.” The rallybot shook his cranium before flashing her a reassuring smile. “And don’t worry about before. I can handle whatever anger issues you have. I won’t take offense, believe me.”

At Tracer’s next suggestion, Smokescreen chuckled, as well. “Yeah, I agree. We’ll just handle the safe stuff that won’t destroy us all. Heh.” The troubled femme then excused herself to give Razr an energon ration. “No problem, Trace. Take your time,” the rallybot said as he watched the little turbofox come out to get his treat. The small critter was cute and ultimately unaware of the problems his master had to face on a cycle to cycle basis. Sometimes, ignorance was bliss.

Once that was taken care of, Tracer returned to Smokescreen’s side and asked him if they could take a walk once the lab was straightened up. The red and blue mech stared back at her in an understanding manner. Like him, she didn’t want to be cooped up in a lab until Axle got around to giving them the okay to leave. Although, Wheeljack previously said that the field medic only had to give the okay for them to return to active duty and not just to take a simple walk. “Hmmm, you know we just got back from a walk,” Smokey started to say as he let out a sigh that showed defeat on his visage. “Okay, fine. We’ll go for another walk afterwards. Maybe we could head down to the mess hall and have a drink or something. Just as long as you’re feeling up to it, I guess it’ll be all right. I can’t say that I blame you. It won’t take long before I go stir crazy around here, too.”

Smokescreen smiled as he moved over to the storage closet, stopping at the entrance to look back at Tracer. “Well, let’s get this job done. The sooner this place is cleaned, the sooner we can get the slag outta here!” With that said, the diversion expert entered the closet and continued the task of organizing Wheeljack’s belongings, or at least the safe ones.

Science Lab

The first to speak up was Ironfist, a small mech but a very capable engineer in his own right. He had designed some of the most sophisticated weapons the Autobot army had ever seen. The Wrecker enthusiast was a perfect choice of this team of scientific minds, especially when it came to the defenses that would have to be built or re-imagined for their new Earth-bound base. Of course, the small Autobot had some reservations regarding the SkyShield that Ultra Magnus wanted them to build around the planet. Ironfist had a good point, one they would all have to keep in mind when constructing the protective, worldwide space net.

“It’s not that we’re creating a fortress planet, Ironfist,” Wheeljack responded to the weapons engineer. “Magnus simply wants us to protect it. That’s all. I mean, it’s not like we’re going to enslave the human race or set up a series of weapons platforms in orbit. This SkyShield is just a way to keep watch over things and to more importantly keep the ‘Cons from using their orbital bounce capabilities. We’re not going to interfere with anything the humans want to do. Plus, we’re going to have to be careful considering the fact that the humans already have an international space station in orbit and we don’t want those astronauts to find any of our spy modules. Infiltration protocols are still in affect here.”

Once he was finished addressing Ironfist’s concerns, Wheeljack’s attention was drawn to Perceptor, who had a grave concern of his own. Apparently, the scientist turned sniper had refined a sample of the new ore that was discovered in the destroyed Decepticon headquarters at Mount St. Helens. It had the potential of increasing their power ten fold if it was only successfully put through the testing stage. Perceptor was very worried about the probability that the Decepticons had already refined the ore for themselves, which would place the Autobots at a serious disadvantage.

“Interesting,” the mechanical engineer replied as he studied Perceptor’s anxious features. “Magnus made no mention of the new ore sample or his desire to see it tested at our meeting. I’m a little surprised by this considering that this new power source could be used to eventually energize Autobot City. Potentially, we wouldn’t even need to mine minerals from the planet, itself, if we had enough of this ore around.” Wheeljack paused for a moment as he kept his optics locked on the scientist/sniper. “Perceptor, did you inform Magnus of your progress on refinement. If so, what did he say?”

Deck 6 - Corridors


Cliffjumper casually strutted through the hallway, not really knowing where his ultimate destination lied. He just knew if he spent another nanosecond cooped up in his quarters that his cranial chamber was going to explode. He was a mech of action, a warrior - and all this waiting around was overloading his meta processors.

The loss of Optimus had been a huge hit to the Autobots' overall morale. Cliffjumper still couldn't, or didn't want to believe that it was true - despite all evidence to the contrary. Then there was that whole thing with Hot Rod, and the rumors of the Fallen One, and all that slag.

Finally, as if that wasn't enough, there was the ceasefire with the Decepticons. The thought of working together with those fraggers made his external plating crawl. He didn't trust them for an astro-second. Onslaught, Shockwave, or whoever the frag was currently in charge of the Cons was sure to stab them in the backbone infrastructure at the first available opportunity. Cliff preferred taking the offensive, as opposed to just waiting for the inevitable, but the brass thought otherwise - so his hands were tied.

Cliffjumper rounded the bend, hoping to lay optics on anyone familiar. Primus, at this point he'd consider striking up a conversation with a toaster. He was so bored.

Science Lab

Perceptor crossed his arms over his chest and sent an annoyed look in the mechanical engineer’s direction. “Perhaps Ultra Magnus is more interested in prolonging this war rather than ending it.” His words were spoken in a biting tone but before a response could be made by anyone in the room, the scientist turned sniper raised a hand to bring pause to anything they would have to say. “Apologies, Wheeljack, but that is how I see things.”

The red mech paused for a moment as he considered his response to the engineer’s last quarry. The results from the ore’s study was nearly complete, however he still needed to find a way to test it. “Of course I informed him.” He snorted. “I told Magnus that I had finally refined the ore but in order be certain that the process was done correctly I needed to run some tests.” Perceptor’s optics locked on those of the engineer’s as he spoke. “Preferably on a functional subject.”

He let out a huff and broke off optic contact. The sniper settled into his chair further as he pressed on. “I offered to do it myself. Regrettably my request was denied.” Perceptor raised his chin and gestured to Jetfire who had taken up a position not far from the sniper. “Jetfire has come up with an alternative. It’s one I would like to implement as soon as possible.”

Perceptor placed both arms on the counter and leaned forward. His expression serious, his voice even more determined. “Confining ourselves to this planet, digging ourselves in deeper is not going to win this war. We can wrap this world up as tight as was we want; it will not stop the Decepticons from finding another way to get to us. This is not the only front. I hope Magnus has not forgotten that fact.”

Corridors

Streetwise had left Groove in the med bay after his fellow Protectobot had gone into the CR chamber. His chassis was free of all of the sand that had been caught in his gears thanks to his wild ride on the beach trying not to get scrapped by Brawl. All of this talk of the Fallen and too convenient coincidences left a bad feeling in his fuel pump. What was Magnus planning to do about all of this...?

Casting his gaze ahead, the interceptor saw Cliffjumper coming around the corner. Streetwise plastered a friendly smile on his face and waved to crimson bot as he walked over to him. The smile was more for Cliffjumper's benefit. Morale had hit rock-bottom so far as the interceptor was concerned.

"Hey there, Cliff. How's it goin'?"

Training Hall

Arcee returned Beretta's cocky smirk with one of her own. She hefted her electro dispenser rifle, a wicked grin spreading across her faceplate. She was more than confident in her sharp-shooting abilities. She was no Slingshot, but she was good.

"Heh, you got it, Beretta."

Arcee lined up with the dummy and locked herself into the standing firing position of three firing positions. She had practiced them over and over countless times. She braced the rifle against her shoulder plating and peered down the sight to the waiting dummy.

The pink warrior shut out all outside distractions and focused in on the dummy, imagining that it was a Decepticon. Who would it be today? Starscream? Soundwave? Maybe Onslaught or one of the other combaticons. Not Megatron anymore - good riddance. She never knew until the moment she pulled the trigger.

The face was beginning to form as she tightened her grip on the rifle. Arcee wrapped her finger around the trigger and pulled. The gun kicked back into her shoulder plating as the face congealed to be...Shockwave. That worked. Her shot hit dead-center. Arcee quickly adjusted for the kickback and shot a few more rounds into the dummy enjoying the sound of her shots connecting with their target. If only it were the real Shockwave. Well, if it were the real Shockwave, odds were that she would not be this close. That arm gun of his was nothing to sniff at.

Arcee let out a sigh and lowered her gun as she emptied her clip. Her shots had hit, not all dead-center, but at least there weren't any misses. A frown crossed her delicate features as her thoughts turned to Hot Rod. She couldn't find him anywhere and anyone she ran across seemed offline on their feet.

The pink warrior turned back to Beretta, her former smile plastered on her face once more - only a little less genuine.

"Care to top that?"

Deck Six--Aerialbot Hab Suite

Fireflight hadn't exactly invested his whole effort into cleaning up their habitation suite. His mind was elsewhere, as was usually the case. But on occasion when he did wander away from his thoughts to see just how much the other Aerialbots were contributing to the effort, he was actually pretty pleased with himself. Their contributions up to this point had been minimal at best.

"There. That's enough cleaning for me, I think," Fireflight said listlessly, his audio detectors picking up some muffled voices out in the corridors. Who might that be? Something or someone more interesting than anything he was currently up to, that was for sure.

Engaging the door, it slid out of the way, allowing the Aerialbot to step out into the hall. Not far away stood some more familiar faces. A Protectobot. One of the fun ones, even. And Cliffjumper. Nice.

"Hey guys, wanna come chill in our hab?"