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Southern Mongolia - Rendezvous Point

Smokescreen carefully watched through the large thicket as Tracer pleaded with Oil Slick to give her the Syk that she so desperately needed. It was becoming harder and harder for Smokey to remain hidden and idle as the troubled femme was clearly suffering more now than ever. The ‘Con, of course, showed no emotion or even a hint of concern regarding how much pain she was in. He only wanted information, no more and no less. It was enough to make the rallybot’s internal fluids boil over in rage, a feeling he seldom experienced but this was an extraordinary situation he now found himself embroiled in, one he hoped had a favorable way out for both him and Tracer.

Just remain calm. You have a plan to execute, Smokescreen thought in an attempt to calm his anger at the sight unfolding before him. He needed to remain focused even as every circuit in his framework felt like they were on fire, compelling him to do something. In fact, he was going to do something, but it had to be a composed and well thought out plan, not an act driven by simple impulse or emotion. It would be hard, but for Tracer’s sake he had to stay in control.

Smokescreen considered all of his options. Whatever he did had to be quick and decisive in order to take Oil Slick by surprise and prevent him from either fleeing or counterattacking. Neither would be acceptable as Smokey needed to get both the Syk and now the data slug away from the Decepticon chemist. He had to be very careful if his plan was going to be successful.

Remaining crotched down, the diversion expert slowly moved forward into the thicket and brought his electro-disruptor rifle up in both hands. He looked through the weapon’s scope and easily lined Oil Slick up in his sights. Smokescreen then watched as the dealer pulled out a vial of Syk from a compartment located on his hip. Really? You wouldn’t happen to have any more in there would you, Slick? The rallybot hoped there was more as he needed as much as he could steal in order to help Tracer remain normal for the foreseeable future and eventually beat her addiction. Once the ‘Con finally handed over the vial to the drug-addled femme, Smokey saw a chance to make his move.

The diversionary tactician was no sharp-shooter, but his accuracy level was high, just not Perceptor high. Still, he was more than confident that he would hit his target from this range without striking Tracer in the process. Taking a deep breath, Smokescreen off-lined one optic while the other remained looking through his rifle’s scope. He then squeezed the trigger thrice, unleashing a trio of electrical energy blasts directly at Oil Slick. Smokescreen then pushed off with both legs and burst forth from the thicket, running at top speed towards the suffering femme and her dealer. For a brief moment, a doubt of what he was doing went through his processor. So many variables had to fall into place to make this all work. However, he quickly pushed any lingering doubts aside and remained focused on the task that was now literally in front of him.

>>Tracer, get down!”<< The rallybot commed to her as he fired off more shots at the Decepticon chemist. If even one energy blast struck the gangly mech it should incapacitate him long enough for Smokey to steal what additional Syk he could and get the data slug back, as well. Then he and Tracer could race back to the shuttle and make their escape unscathed. Of course, things seldom unfolded exactly as planned and Smokescreen knew that this situation would likely be no different.

Southern Mongolia – Rendezvous Point

Tracer remained on her knees as she waited for the chemist’s next move. What she received was devastating, a simple “interesting”. This cold sparked creature had wanted nothing more than her input in order to create a newer concoction which he would provide her once they met again. The scout stared up at the ‘Con and nodded in understanding.

Tracer’s optics widened in anticipation when Oil Slick finally produced the vial she had been waiting for. She watched as the chemist held out it out in front of her and then provided her with an explanation as to what this vial actually held. Over the vorns she had dealt with Oil Slick it was her who he used as a guinea pig to test his new mixtures and variants with. But she didn’t care, not any more. Whatever he was willing to provide she was always glad to take.

With the vial directly in front of her face Tracer’s optics followed and focused on nothing else. His required payment for the next batch was considered to be of high security. However, everything her dealer was saying hardly registered and she simply gave a nod in agreement.

“I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Her optic contact with the vial never faltered until Oil Slick finally moved it toward her hands. Slowly, and cautiously Tracer raised a hand and took possession of that most important commodity. Once it was in her hands she cradled it close to her chest and looked back up at Oil Slick.

“I’d never reveal anything to anyone, not now not ever.”

Tracer remained on her knees directly in front of the ‘Con, her attention drawn to her hands gripping the vial. A smile made its way to her face as the fear was quelled. The fear that had been welling up within her was the uncertainty of something going horribly wrong.

The scout let out a gasp when she heard three distinct shots that seemed to come from the tree line. Her fear finally manifested itself when she received the short warning to get down from Smokescreen. From that point things seemed to move in slow motion. She wound up dropping down onto her stomach, she then looked over her shoulder seeing Smokescreen charging forward and firing his weapon directly at Oil Slick.

The surprised expression that was on Tracer’s face turned to absolute rage. How could he do this to me? He gave me his word that he would wait for me back at the shuttle. Has he lied to me before?

From her position on her stomach she was still within reach of Oil Slick. If he wished to he could simply take hold of her and use her as a hostage in order to make an escape. With that scenario racing through her processor, Tracer pushed up from the ground and shakily got to her feet. With the vial still gripped in her hand Tracer ran toward Smokescreen. She stopped directly in front of him hoping the rally-bot would either slowdown or come to a complete halt.

While he continued his approach she screamed his name. The once quiet, demure femme was forced out of desperation to turn her ire on one of her most trusted and dearest friends.

“SMOKESCREEN! What have you done?! You’ve ruined everything! EVERYTHING!”

Her tirade dissipated as a thought came to her mind. She quickly turned back around and began to make her way back toward Oil Slick.

“Oil Slick, I can explain! Please! I still need you!”

Southern Mongolia - Rendezvous Point

Oil Slick nodded as Tracer quickly agreed to his demands for future payment. The addictive properties of Syk were quite impressive to so completely turn an Autobot against her own like this. Of course, Tracer was likely not an ideal Autobot to begin with. Her mental problems and what little he knew of her checkered past definitely spoke to that, but that aside it was still fascinating to see the psychology of addiction. Of course he was more interested in the chemical and mechanical affects of it, which would require a vivisection to truly discover in detail. It was something that would have to wait until this Autobot’s usefulness was completely gone.

The chemist watched the relief wash over her face as she took the vial from him. It was pathetic really, and a lesser being might feel pity for her. Oil Slick had moved far beyond emotions like that however. There was only the detached, clinical interest he took in everything.

Unfortunately for him his interest in Tracer was too deep. He was caught by surprise at the sound of gunfire. His head snapped to look at the source, but he was too late to dodge it. The webs of electricity from Smokescreen’s rifle slammed into Oil Slick. He let out a garbled scream of pain, something he rarely felt, as the electricity coursed through him, shorting out circuits or rendering them unresponsive. As additional shots struck him he dropped to his knees and finally face first on to the ground, his limbs still twitching.

Oil Slick tried to focus his thoughts, but it was difficult. They were clouded, but only partially by the electricity. Something else was interfering as well, something he had not felt in a long time. Rage. It was only a spark, but even a small spark in someone as cold as him was profound.

The Decepticon quickly began rebooting and reactivating systems as the electrical charge in them went out, starting with his mental and sensory capabilities. His optics came online as he saw Tracer running towards the other Autobot. His audio receptors followed as he heard her yelling at him. She turned back to him, saying she could explain to him what had happened. The spark of anger grew a little brighter as his vocal processor came back online. His voice was slightly garbled, but a harsher tone was still discernible, another sign of the spark burning inside of him.

“Betrayed. The Autobot must die.”

Southern Mongolia - Rendezvous Point

Smokescreen continued his charge as several of his electrical energy shots struck a startled Oil Slick, forcing him down to his knees before the dealer finally collapsed faceplate first on to the ground. The rallybot was pleased that his surprise attack had worked as planned, a small grin forming on his own mechanical visage. That grin faded quickly when Tracer decided it would be a good idea to get back up and run towards him, screaming at the diversion expert that he had ruined everything. Smokey didn’t let her harsh words bother him as he had expected such a reaction. The red and blue racer also knew that a good portion of that response came from her condition more than the real mech that existed just underneath the surface.

Smokescreen slowed down, almost to a halt, as Tracer stopped directly in front of him. He immediately ceased firing and brought his rifle up, expecting her to come up to him and slap him across the faceplate. “Tracer, I...” Smokey started to say, but his words trailed off as he watched the troubled femme turn around and stagger back towards the downed Oil Slick. “Where are you going? Wait!” The diversion expert shouted after her, astonished at her absolute desperation that he had unfortunately made worse by his actions.

Smokescreen burst into a quick run until he had caught up to her. He grabbed Tracer by the arm to stop the anxious femme in her tracks. “Wait here, I know what I’m doing! WAIT HERE!” The rallybot demanded before he hurried past her, reaching the twitching form of the Decepticon chemist within astroseconds. Smokey cautiously knelt down next to the dealer and snatched the data slug from his clawed hand. “You won’t be needing this anymore, Slick,” the diversion specialist muttered as the gangly mech’s systems continued to reboot internally. Moving quickly, Smokey then accessed Oil Slick’s hip compartment and reached inside to find another, slightly larger vial of what appeared to be more Syk. “You won’t be needing this, either.“

The rallybot grasped both the second vial and the data slug in one hand and got back to his feet just as the chemist’s vocalizer finished rebooting, allowing the ‘Con to utter his threat. Smokescreen looked over at Tracer and waved for her to retreat. “Go, Tracer, go! I’ve got we you need! Just transform and head back to the shuttle. I’ll be right behind you!” Assuming she would do as he said, the diversion expert moved away from the recovering dealer before transforming into his 350Z rally car mode. He then emitted a large cloud of black smoke from his tailpipe to help conceal their escape from Oil Slick. The magnetic cloud would not stop the Decepticon chemist for long, but it would hopefully buy them some time to reach the shuttle and get back up into orbit.

Once the smoke was fully discharged, the red and blue rally car sped away from the scene and quickly caught up to Tracer. “Keep going, Trace! My smoke cloud won’t keep him occupied for very long!” Smokescreen shouted over the roar of his engine. “I’m sorry I lied to you, but I had to do something to help you break free of that Decepticon’s hold he had on you. Besides, you lied to me, too. I thought you were giving him credits in exchange for the Syk not vital information on a data stick!”

Smokey calmed himself as he didn’t want to admonish her too much, especially in her current state of mind. The rallybot reminded himself once again that it wasn’t really her fault as the ‘Con had taken advantage of her condition, feeding the femme’s addiction in order to get whatever he wanted out of her. “I’m sorry, Trace, it doesn’t matter now anyway. I’ve got enough Syk for you to last a good long while, and I have a plan to get you more without ever having to go back to Oil Slick again. Just please trust me! I know what I'm doing.”

Southern Mongolia – Rendezvous Point

Tracer had turned her back on Smokescreen and slowly began to head toward the now downed Oil Slick. The shouts coming from the diversion expert didn’t halt her advance; instead she tuned them out in favor of catching the Decepticon in a receptive mood…something she felt would be unlikely, but she had to try.

The scout had made it half way to Oil Slick when she felt her arm being grabbed. The unexpected maneuver caught her off guard making her finally stop. With a blank expression plastered on her face, Tracer looked over at Smokescreen. The demand for her to wait right where she was barely registered, but she complied none the less.

She watched carefully as Smokey rushed the chemist and quickly retrieved the data slug she used as payment in return for the narcotic. Tracer’s optics widened in surprise at the mech’s next desperate move. The red and blue rally-bot began to rummage through Oil Slick’s storage compartment where he seemed to store the Syk, and possibly any other chemicals he would need at any given time.

The action seemed alien to the femme as the only thing she could focus on was the large vial Smokey produced from her dealer’s own storage niche. Once Smokey was finished stripping the chemist of his wares, he looked up in her direction and began to wave her off. The movement registered only after she broke off her gaze from that vial. The femme licked her lips as she finally began to back away at first slowly, and once she was thinking clearly, she turned around and transformed into her GT – 500 Super Snake vehicle mode and quickly took off in the direction of their shuttle.

“This is not happening! This is not happening!”

Tracer began to calm down when she finally heard Smokescreen’s engine rev before he eventually caught up with her and they drove on to their landing site. As the rally-bot tried to explain his reasoning behind attacking Oil Slick, Tracer remained silent. At his accusation that she had lied to him in the first place, Tracer let out a low whimper, but still held her vocalizer. He was right. She had lied to him back on Cybertron and she had been lying to him even after they had reunited back on the Guardian.

“I’m sorry, Smokescreen. I never meant to bring you into this. Once we’re safely on board the Guardian I won’t blame you if you decide you want to dump your excess baggage.”

The defeated femme grew quiet as the mech driving beside her explained that with the vial he recovered from the chemist would hold her over long enough and that he had some kind of plan to get her more Syk without ever relying on Oil Slick again. She had to admit that his statement sounded very convincing, but how could he possibly get more of the narcotic.

“Ho…how are you going to get more? There are no other dealers located in this sector…I know I’ve looked.”

The duo had made excellent time and soon they were breaking through the tree line and into the canyon where they had hidden the shuttle from prying eyes. Tracer slowed until she finally broke through the thicket and came to a stop a few feet away from the ship’s ramp. The femme transformed back to her bipedal mode and let out a low sigh. She produced the vial she had received from the Decepticon before Smokescreen decided to take everything into his own hands. No, he did it to help me. He’s always helped me when I needed him. This time is no different.

Tracer stared at the small vial in her palm as she addressed Smokey; her optics never deviating from the elixir she had sought.

“Stay out here, Smokescreen. Please. I don’t want you to see me take this.”

Approaching Mongolian Valley - Shuttle Landing Site

Smokescreen continued driving alongside Tracer’s GT-500 Super Snake alt mode as they raced as fast as they could back to the shuttle craft that had brought them down on this crazy mission to begin with. They were almost home free...almost. Smokey wouldn’t feel better until they were both safely in the air and back on board the Ark-22. Until then, he kept his sensors peeled for any signs of the Decepticon chemist they had left behind.

“You’re not baggage and I have no intention of dumping you, Tracer,” Smokescreen assured her. “I’ve done all this for you. I wouldn’t go this far for anyone else. Only you.” The rallybot then considered her question regarding where he would be able to obtain more Syk without Oil Slick’s involvement. Smokey's avatar smiled behind the wheel of his 350z alt mode before glancing over towards her sleek form. “I’m going to make more. I’ll just need some help from a certain mad scientist that’s all.”

The help Smokescreen was referring to was, of course, Wheeljack. However, the diversion expert had not yet asked the mechanical engineer if he would be willing to assist in making more Syk. Smokey was confident that the Autobot inventor would say yes, but ‘Jack had already done so much to help them that there was a slim chance he would say no. Unlikely, but still possible.

I’ll promise him anything if that’s what it takes, the rallybot thought as he and Tracer re-entered the valley and quickly approached the shuttle through the surrounding thicket. Smokescreen returned to robot mode and listened as the drug-addicted femme asked him to remain outside the craft so that he wouldn’t have to see her take the drug. The diversion specialist nodded in agreement, giving her a sympathetic smile. “I understand, Trace. Please hurry. We don’t have much time. I’ll be right here keeping watch for Oil Slick if you need me.”

Smokescreen then turned around and looked away back down the path that led out of the valley. His sensors weren’t picking anything up yet, but that could change at any moment. Oil Slick had most likely already shaken off the effects of the elector-disruptor blasts and the smoke cloud would only slow his pursuit of them, not stop him entirely. If they didn’t depart soon, the Decepticon chemist might catch up to them, forcing a fight that Smokey wasn’t certain he could win.

In case he does get here before we go, I should destroy this, Smokescreen thought as he peered down at the data slug in his hand. Dropping the small device to the ground, he swiftly stepped on it, crushing it underneath his foot. Sorry, no intel for you, Slick. Smokey then stowed away the other vial of what he assumed was Syk into a secret compartment in his right leg before reloading his rifle in preparation for any possible attack.

Southern Mongolia - Rendezvous Point

Oil Slick heard and saw the Autobot move in on him. He could only slowly regain his faculties as the Autobot robbed him of his payment and an additional vial. The spark of anger found itself well and truly fanned with those actions. What was once a spark became burning embers as now he was both betrayed and humiliated. Systems continued to come back online. His long hands grasped at the ground, his arms pushed him up off the ground. The Decepticon regained motion in his legs and pulled himself up off the ground, staggering to his feet with a grim look on his face.

The Autobots were gone, but it wasn’t difficult to trace their path. They had gone for speed over subtlety, as the tire marks indicated. A cloud of smoke also marked the path they had taken, but he could tell it was no ordinary cloud. Oil Slick jogged towards the cloud, his helmet up. Raising his right hand he fired a fine spray of acid ahead of him. The spray hit the cloud with a crackle as the two elements collided, the acid eating up the cloud particles. As he moved through it some of the smokescreen still clung to him, but lowering his helmet removed it from clouding his vision. He took another few steps before transforming to his motorcycle mode and with a roar of his engine he shot off in pursuit of the Autobots.

While none of the three of them were particularly designed for travel on terrain as opposed to roads Oil Slick did have the advantage of a smaller profile, allowing him to dodge some obstacles that would slow the two cars. This combined with his raw speed allowed him to catch up with Smokescreen quickly. He was slightly startled to see the Autobot waiting by a shuttle. Apparently Autobots were more lax about shuttle security then orbital bounces. Tracer was nowhere to be seen, likely inside the ship prepping for take off. That mean he would have to move fast.

Oil Slick increased his speed, charging at the Autobot. Before getting too close he veered sharply to the right, flipping his alternate form into the air. The chemist transformed in mid-air, wielding his flail like weapon. He lashed out with it, aiming one of the spiked ends at Smokescreen, using the momentum of his speed to add power to the attack. He hoped the blow would put a swift end to the Autobot, but a part of him hoped he wouldn’t. He secretly looked forward to a long, painful fight that would end with his flame of anger being extinguished by the fuel of his enemy.

Mongolian Valley - Shuttle Landing Site

Smokescreen waited as patiently as he could near the shuttle as Tracer did whatever it was she needed to do inside. Clearly the femme was going to administer the Syk into her systems, but how long it would take to make her feel well again was an unknown variable that made the diversion expert more than a bit nervous. There was a very angry ‘Con out there wanting revenge for what Smokey had done to him. However, it wasn’t just the rallybot who would bare the ire of the enraged chemist. Tracer would also be a target of his merciless wrath. The red and blue mech could accept his own possible destruction if that’s what it ultimately came down to here, but he would not accept Tracer being hurt any more than she already had been by the ‘Con. He had to do everything in his power to keep her safe no matter the cost to his own spark.

The wait seemed longer than it actually had been, but soon the roar of a motorcycle's engine grew louder in the distance. He’s coming, Smokescreen thought as his sensors picked up a Cybertronian signature that was quickly approaching from the south. He brought his electro-disruptor rifle up and aimed it squarely down the path that led out of the valley. Within astroseconds, the monstrous cycle burst through the surrounding thicket and charged directly at him. Smokey opened fire, but his shots missed their intended target as Oil Slick went right suddenly and flipped his motorcycle alt mode up into the air where he then transformed to robot mode and lashed out with his chain flail.

“Oh, slag,” Smokescreen was barely able to utter as he dove for cover just as the spike-covered sphere came within inches of hitting him in the cranial unit. Instead, the weapon smashed through his left door-wing, effectively severing it from his back. The diversion expert hit the ground hard, landing on his chestplate as sparks flew out behind him from the damaged area, his pain receptors registering the loss of a body part. “Aaaahhhh! Fraggit!!” It hurt like a broken motherboard, but at least it was an extremity that was useless when it came to fighting. Still, this is not a good start, not at all!

Smokescreen quickly scrambled to his feet and spun around to face his opponent, firing off several shots at Oil Slick from his rifle while at the same time seeking cover behind a nearby boulder. He then quickly opened a secured comm line to Tracer inside the shuttle:

>>”Tracer, we’ve got company out here! Oil Slick has caught up to us and he’s none too happy. Seal and lock the shuttle’s hatch and remain inside while I deal with this slagger. If anything happens to me, I want you to take off immediately and head back to the Ark-22. Contact Wheeljack through an encrypted comm line for any assistance that you might require. Don't worry, you can trust him. He already helped us get down here. Is that understood?”<<

With his message sent, Smokescreen quickly reloaded his rifle. Unfortunately, the weapons Oil Slick possessed were far more dangerous than anything the rallybot had to offer. Thus, Smokey needed to keep his distance and hope to get in a few more lucky shots like before. He considered using his rockets, but they were mainly for surface to air combat and would succeed in not only scrambling Oil Slick's systems but the shuttle’s, as well, which would then trap them on Earth. Not to mention, Tracer would likely also feel the effects and who knows what exactly that would do to her own already fragile and unstable system. No, the diversion specialist only had his rifle, his wits and possibly one more smoke cloud to aid him here, but would those few things be enough?

It’s going to have to be, Smokescreen thought as he then partially stepped out from behind the boulder and opened fire again on the advancing Oil Slick.

Mongolian Valley – Shuttle Landing Site

Tracer kept her optics on the small vial in her hand as she made her way up the ramp and into the shuttle. She hadn’t heard anything from Smokescreen making her believe that the mech would be fine standing guard. Even if Oil Slick showed up Tracer had every confidence in the red and blue Autobot’s capabilities to hold the Decepticon chemist at bay.

She entered into the crew compartment and stopped. Her eyes finally moved from the vial to the back wall. The scout stayed her position with her optics locked on one of the cabinets that housed some emergency medical equipment. The waiting finally got to her and she broke out in a run to the back wall. She slammed hard into it before falling to her knees and tearing open the sealed door.

Tracer let out a low growl as she tore through the locker in search of the one device that she needed. The loud clangs and crashes told of the desperation the femme felt. Unable to locate the item she required angered her to the point of letting out a quelled scream.

A few minutes passed before she placed both hands on the floor. She offlined her optics as she tried to control the heavy intakes of oxygen. It seemed to take forever but Tracer was finally able to calm down enough to continue her search.

Crawling on her hands and knees to the cabinet on the right Tracer stopped and opened the door. Taking in a deep breath Tracer went to work rummaging through the medical supplies. A broad smile formed on her delicate visage as she pulled out the medical grade syringe she had been searching for. She had one of her own, but unfortunately she left it behind in her quarters back on the Guardian.

With the device in her hands Tracer rose up on her knees and quickly loaded the syringe with the vial of Syk. She was ready for this mixture, as with all of the other concoctions caused a lot of pain upon its initial push, but after a breem or so the pain dissipates leaving behind no racing and random thoughts, no depression and no anxiety. The pain was well worth the results.

The blue and white femme carefully inserted the narcotic, vial and all. She took in a deep breath and raised the device to the main energon line running down the side of her neck. Tracer offlined her optics as she finally pushed the fluid.

There was a familiar intense heat as the chemical mixed with her energon, but as soon as the warm sensation subsided the pain set it. The intensity caused her to drop the syringe and fall back down on her hands and knees.

Tracer let out a pain filled wail as she tried to keep from falling unconscious. The pain had never been this severe, but then again, Oil Slick had been working and reformulating the chemical’s content for vorns. Each vial was a new version and each version caused different reactions.

“Aaaagh! Agh!”

There was no denying this new concoction was much more powerful than any of her previous hits. But she had no time to contemplate the situation as she fell flat onto the floor unconscious. The pain had been too intense to deal with.

Her comm. line activated minutes later but the message never made it through to the downed femme. Smokescreen would have to wait and hold off Oil Slick on his own.

From under the small table Razr finally emerged. The little turbofox had taken refuge there when Tracer and Smokescreen left the shuttle, and he remained there once Tracer returned. The creature was familiar with his master’s actions and kept away until she became amicable again.

Seeing her fall flat onto the floor was something Razr was not used too and so the little turbofox grew worried enough to step to Tracer and nudge her gently with his nose, but he received no response. He tried several times but had no success. Finally Razr laid down close to Tracer’s side and waited.

Mongolian Valley - Shuttle Landing Site


A slight look of satisfaction passed over Oil Slick’s face as his attack wounded the Autobot. He couldn’t linger on this minor victory however as he was still hurtling through the air. He managed to contort his body so he hit the ground in a crouch on one knee. Rock and gravel crunched under his foot as a small cloud of dirt and plant matter was torn and kicked up by his landing. The Decepticon looked around, taking in the sight of Smokescreen diving behind cover near the shuttle.

If the Autobot was smart he would continue to use his rather annoying rifle to keep him at range. From what he had seen of the Autobot and his attacks led him to believe this was not a front line warrior type and would not be able to hold up well in a close up fight with him. He needed someway to turn the running gun battle into a melee where he could put his chemicals and chain to the task of tearing the Autobot apart.

As if on cue Smokescreen opened fire once again with his rifle. Oil Slick burst into a run, grunting as one of the webs winged him on the leg. The chemist stumbled a bit, but quickly regained his foot and transformed. In his motorcycle mode he would present a smaller target to hit. Charging directly at the Autobot would be suicide and even an indirect route towards him would be difficult with the wide dispersal fire of the electrical nets. He needed to draw the Autobot in towards him.

With a shriek of tires spinning on the ground, kicking up dirt, and the roar of an engine, Oil Slick made and abrupt turn way from Smokescreen and towards the shuttle. He darted towards the side opposite of the Autobot, transforming into a run once he was behind the relative safety of the vessel. The Autobot apparently needed the vessel to return to his mothership. It was also likely that Tracer was onboard it now preparing for lift off. The fact that she had brought this lone Autobot with her indicated to him some high level of trust between them, friendship at the very least. It was a foreign concept to the cold Decepticon, but one he had a passing familiarity with.

That friendship, along with requiring a means to leave this planet, would drive Smokescreen to protect the vessel at all costs. To him there would simply be no choice. Oil Slick lifted his right arm and activated the sprayers mounted on his wrist. A fine stream of concentrated acid shot out, splashing against the shuttle’s hull. Instantly there was a loud crackling as it began eating away at the vessel, sending a toxic trail of fumes into the air. The Decepticon knew the Autobot would not miss this attack and would be forced to counter it. He need only be prepared to pounce once his prey had shown itself. Then he could test his acids on a live specimen. It had been far too long since he had that opportunity and he found himself particularly looking forward to testing them on this subject.