- Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
- Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Smokescreen was relieved when Tracer said that she understood why he wanted her to stay behind. Of course, she didn’t like it, but at least she seemed agreeable in accepting the reality of her condition and the situation they now all found themselves in regarding the Fallen. The rallybot felt her chevron against his own as she told him that she would be holding him to his promise. “I knew you would,” Smokey replied softly, a slight grin spreading across his faceplate.
The troubled femme then pulled back and insisted that she would accompany him down to the bounce chamber to see him off. The red and blue racer paused for a moment, unsure if this would be a good idea. It was true that she promised to stay behind, but Smokey also wouldn’t put it past her to suddenly jump onto the bounce pad at the last second and thus be transported with the rallybot anyway. Still, he couldn’t say no to her. He would simply have to keep a close optic on the drug-addicted scout when he disembarked. “Okay, Tracer.”
Smokescreen’s own smirk to the femme quickly disappeared when he heard the sound of Ultra Magnus’ voice coming from behind him. Letting go of Tracer’s hands, the diversion expert immediately turned around and approached the City Commander, standing alongside Bluestreak. The two almost identical Autobots listened carefully to their leader’s newest set of orders. It seemed that battle would be coming sooner rather than later and they were to not only get ready for it but also find every available ‘Bot on board and get them combat ready, as well.
“Understood, sir,” Bluestreak responded to Ultra Magnus, feeling another verbal tirade coming on. “I won’t let you down! However, if Razorclaw is the one now in charge of the Decepticons then we will need to talk to the only one around here that knows the Predacon Commander better than anybody. And judging by the latest communication received from the Guardian, that someone is now finally back online.”
“You’re talking about Howlstrike, aren’t you?” Smokescreen interjected, sparing a glance over at the silver and black gunner. “I thought you didn’t trust him.”
“I don’t,” Bluestreak responded, locking his optics with that of the rallybot. “But he’s the best chance we have at understanding the mindset of the new Predacon leadership. Conversing with Onslaught would have been much easier than making any kind of deal with Razorclaw, who is much more violent and animalistic than the Combaticon Commander.” The gunner looked back at Magnus, trying to hide a worried expression. “Whatever happens, we will have to tread cautiously, even more so now than before.”
“Okay, well, just as long as you two don’t blast each other into oblivion,” the diversion expert said with a wry smile. “I mean you and Howl don’t exactly have a loving relationship from what I’ve heard.”
“We’ll be fine, Smokey. Now, let’s get moving. We have our orders.”
Bluestreak and Smokescreen both gave a respectful salute to Ultra Magnus before turning towards the exit. As the chatterbot approached the door, the rallybot hung back near Tracer. “I’ll catch up to you in a minute, Blue. This won’t take long.”
“No problem, Smokes. I’ll see you down in the armory. I figured we can get rearmed and loaded up with as much ammo as possible before heading off to face the Fallen. Can’t be too prepared to fight a myth hellbent on destroying the universe, after all,” Bluestreak responded, cutting himself off before he fell into another non-stop chatter fest.
Smokescreen nodded as the gunner finally left the bridge. The diversion expert then returned his attention to Tracer and smiled. “Well, seems I’m going to be deployed very soon. Walk with me to the armory?” The red and blue racer reached out his right arm and took the troubled femme’s hand into his own. He then led her towards the exit just as Crossfire and Jazz rushed passed them. Sidestepping the two ‘Bots, Smokescreen left the bridge with Tracer in tow and entered the corridor beyond.
Corridors near Bridge
With Smokescreen not far behind him, Bluestreak opened a ship-wide channel to any Autobots who were currently online and ready for some action:
>>”To all able-bodied Autobots not currently assigned to anything important, this is Bluestreak. I assume you have all heard the recent message from Ultra Magnus regarding the Fallen and his heralds and the threat that they pose to all of us. Our new commander has instructed Smokescreen and I to gather as many of you as possible for deployment within the next two breems. Meet us down in the Ark-22’s armory ASAP in order to get combat ready. Howlstrike, wherever you are now, drop what you’re doing and meet us over here. We’re going to need you on this assignment. We’ll brief you more once you arrive. Bluestreak out.”<<
“Spoken like a true mission commander,” Smokescreen commented as he caught up to his doppelganger.
“I wouldn’t say that, Smokey,” Bluestreak replied in an unsure manner. “We were both given the same orders. We’re in this together.”
“Ha ha, okay, Blue,” the rallybot responded as he patted the gunner on the back with his left hand, while still holding on to Tracer with his right. “Only, if you don’t mind, you can brief Howlstrike by yourself. I mean, once he finds out that Razorclaw is in charge of the Decepticons, he’s going to be none too happy, and I’d rather not get ripped apart so soon after being put back together from my cosmic rust debacle. You know?” Smokey cast a glance over to Tracer, a knowing look creeping across his facade.
“No problem,” Bluestreak said in agreement. “I was going to do all of the talking anyway.”
As Wheeljack began to gather up the necessary parts to begin installation of the armature’s nervous system, the lights in the labs began to flicker before going out entirely. Moments later, emergency power kicked on, filling the room with a reddish glow but still leaving a lot less light than they initially had available to them. “Well, that’s very strange,” the engineer commented as he placed the parts he had accumulated onto a nearby workbench. “A power failure on an Ark class ship? Not impossible, but highly unlikely with all of the failsafes these vessels have.”
The loss of primary power had not gone unnoticed by the other scientific minds in the room. Chromedome questioned whether something was wrong with the generator while Ironfist suggested checking on feed 252 of the Quantum Drive. “Good idea,” Wheeljack responded as he swiftly moved over to a nearby terminal that seemed to be functioning well enough on back-up power. With the proper codes inputted, the feed slowly came up, showing the main generators down on the engineering deck. ‘Jack did a double take as the image revealed the total extent of the damage. “Um, it seems that the generators are down. No, scratch that, they're completely destroyed!” The white mech leaned back in his chair with a look of disbelief plastered across his faceplate. “I can’t imagine what did that! I mean, could that have been the Fallen’s doing? Slaggit!”
Wheeljack’s statement was cut short when he received Bluestreak’s call to arms over his comm line. Unsure on how to proceed further under these unusual circumstances, the mechanical engineer opened a direct channel to the new Autobot leader:
>>”Commander Magnus, this is Wheeljack down in the Science Lab. We’ve suffered a loss of power here. I took the liberty of checking the generators on the feeds and they appear to have suffered severe damage that will take many cycles to repair. The labs are still functioning on auxiliary power which should provide us enough lighting to finish with our experiments. However, the risk of failure is now much higher until primary power is restored. I can continue working on the armature but given my engineering background, perhaps I should take charge of repairing the generators, instead? Or should I and the rest of us down here prepare for battle? Please advise, sir.”<<