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Iranian Desert - Central Hub

Hardhead didn’t need coordinates to find his way to the meeting place. He simply followed Ironhide to their designated rendezvous point. The danger from a Decepticon follow-up attack had waned as the seekers continued their retreat from the area. There had been no clear winner here as both sides had suffered losses. Although, one could argue that the side which retreated first was the loser. Unfortunately, the ‘Cons had also apparently gotten away with at least some amount of energon, but it was unclear as to just how much. Regardless, the enemy had succeeded in their main objective and that didn’t sit very well with the green warrior. At least it wasn’t the Autobots who were retreating as the stubborn mech would have scoffed at the notion and kept on fighting until the bitter end even if it meant disobeying orders. Thankfully, it didn’t come to that.

Hardhead reached the rendezvous point at about the same time as Ironhide. The war veteran looked over to his one-armed field commander and nodded. “That looks like it hurts, ‘Hide,” the green warrior said as he focused in on his friend’s severed arm. “Although, I guess it’s better than losing your head, right? Heh heh!” Hardhead couldn’t resist poking a little fun at himself, considering the lose of his cranial unit in a prior battle. Hopefully, it would liven the overall mood a bit, but he wasn’t expecting too much.

Iranian Desert - Several Miles from the Central Hub

Skywarp watched as Slipstream circled overhead before landing beside him on top of the train car. The femme was another seeker who had abruptly withdrawn from the battle, but at least she had signs of damage to her frame, even if it didn’t appear to be too serious. It mattered little to ‘Warp as the saboteur was one of the few on this mission that didn’t give him a hard time and had actually showed him some degree of respect. Even now she still referred to him as “Commander”, a title that didn’t seem to go with his name and probably never would again.

“There’s no need to call me that anymore, Slipstream,” Skywarp replied sheepishly to his fellow teleporter. “I'm afraid I stopped being the commander of this mission the moment Starscream arrived. And, yes, I've already contacted Vindicator on board the Ultrax and told him that he'll have to bounce the energon and myself from this location.” The prankster then received Ramjet’s communication and quickly opened a channel back to the white conehead:

>>”Understood, Ramjet. However, there’s no rush to get here as Vindicator will be bouncing us all back to the ship within one breem. So, just sit tight wherever you are.”<<

Incoming Reply from Vindicator to Skywarp

>"Skywarp, I understand. I will have a Drone squad ready to assist in the moving of the Energon Cubes before the other's are retreived. We don't want any accidents now...do we...Skywarp...Prepare for bounce in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...Engage!"<

OoC: Sorry if this seems like a double post

Iranian Desert - Going home

Contemptor looked at the prone form of Hellion, and the mess of the dust and grit around her damaged form, fluids from her internal systems had turned the sand into a dark mire of mud and slush. Over time the desert would reclaim itself and all traces of spilled Cybertronian body fluids would be obliterated by the winds and the sun. Contemptor however, didn't care about that at the moment, for all he cared about was getting Hellion back to the damned Ultrax and getting himself a new arm.

'Grr....time to pick you up and take you home seeker...' Contemptor grumbled to himself as he began to retreive his energon axe before getting to Hellion. The only thing that bothered him was his left knee, as the scuffle with Ironhide had left him with a limp that was irritating to the point of frustration. If Contemptor were a human, his knee would have been dislocated and have required surgery to repair it. But as it was, he was more than a measly human, and easier to repair and, therefor, superior.

Contemptor looked down at Hellion and, with his damaged knee, gingerly crouched down and wrapped his arm around the bezerker's waist - and being a femme, her structure allowed Contemptor's arm to hook her before lifting her up over his shoulder. The injury to his knee hindered his movements, and after he stood with the stasis-locked seeker slumped over his shoulder, he removed his arm to press the transmitter switch on his chest. The large shoulder plates that helped form up the front engine housing of his alternate mode helped keep the femme in place so that Contemptor could accept the bounce signal back to the Ultrax.

"Well kid..." Contemptor said to Hellion "...we're goin' home..."

There was a faint buzzing in the air around the large truck-former as a shaft of light slowly got brighter and brighter, and when it was at its brightest, where once the large decepticon stood, there was nothing but a set of large foot prints that was slowly being filled in by the soft blowing desert winds.

Iranian Desert – Autobot Rendezvous Point

It hadn’t taken long for Ratchet to make it to the coordinates that he provided Ironhide. The CMO scouted the area before he settled down and removed his medical kit. It wouldn’t be long before the other would arrive and he’d be elbow deep in energon and mangled parts. Ratchet took a look around and spotted Warpath who had been following him to the location.

The CMO was no psychiatrist, but the tankformer looked as though he needed someone to talk to. Ratchet’s optics narrowed as he picked up one of his wrenches and threw it directly at Warpath’s head.

“Warpath! Quit your moping! Losing that damned gun is not going to terminate you, but if you keep this crap up I sure as hell will!”

Once he was done reprimanding the tankformer, Ratchet opened up a link with Ironhide, who still hadn’t shown up.

>>”Red! Where the hell are ya? I’m gonna contact the Guardian and give them our location so they can bounce us back, but I wannna get everyone patched up beforehand. Get here as soon as you can.”<<

That done Ratchet opened a link with the Guardian.

>>”Guardian, this is Ratchet. I’m sending you the coordinates the Iranian team will be located at for a bounce pick up. DO NOT initiate until I contact you again. Out.”<<

Iranian Desert – Autobot Rendezvous Point

As far as Warpath was concerned, he wasn't in Iran, or even on Earth. Right now he was in his own personal hell. Something he felt important that had made him an effective warrior, something that made him unique compared to the other Autobots, was gone. Any replacement Ratchet would put there, if he even did replace it, would be different. Warpath hated the thought.

"OW!" the tankformer shouted in surprise as he felt something hard hit his head.

The warrior looked around expecting to see one of the Decepticons making some half-aft, last minute attack as they left- probably that lame insecticon, Waspinator wanting to say he got the last shot in. When he realized there were no Decepticons around Warpath looked down to see what it was that hit him. He then noticed one of Ratchet's wrenches on the ground, and picked it up. He finally looked over at the CMO, who gave him a good chewing out. Warpath limped over to the medic, handing the wrench back to him.

"Sorry, Ratchet.", Warpath apologized, "I'll try to pull myself back together.... so to speak, heh."

Though he still wasn't his loud, boisterous, usual self, Warpath was at least trying to get himself back up. It wouldn't be easy, though.

Oh, my poor, poor gun....

Central Hub

Ramjet sighed when he received the transmission from the Purple and Black seeker.

He began to fume, if he was a Human, he would have changed color to crimson out of frustration.

"I can't believe it, Waspinator! I practically did nothing but labor this battle!" Ramjet stated, but no response came.

"Waspy?"

He placed the net on the ground to check the Green Insecticon's status. It was grim, Waspinator was offline and he was low on Energon.

He grit his teeth and stepped out of his cover and aimed at Warpath carefully, then fired out of rage.

He felt the air become static, so he picked up the netting with Waspinator inside, and he was bounced out in a shaft of light.

(OOC: I’m getting Starscream moved to the Ultrax)

Iranian Desert

After Starscream’s communique to Vindicator, and once the Impromptu Commander had landed safely, a blinding beam of light pierced the sky from above and bathed the silver seeker in its brilliance. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the light and Starscream were gone.

*All of the 'Cons should be back on the Ultrax*

Transmission from the Guardian to Ratchet

>>This is Blaster, I gotcha, Ratch. Just say the word and I'll bounce you all up<<

Iranian Desert – Autobot Rendezvous Point

As Warpath handed the wrench over to Ratchet, he thought he heard something. He turned around to see what it was, only to be caught in the shoulder by Ramjet's laser, just before the conehead was bounced.

"OWW! WHY THAT SLAGGIN!", Warpath screamed in pain as he grabbed his shoulder.

For now Warpath's depression was gone, replaced by anger and physical pain. The maroon warrior removed his hand to get a closer look. His shoulder assembly was still intact, but a good chunk of armor had been taken out. All in all, this battle was not one of his shining moments.

"AAARGH, BLAM! No good, rotten coward! Shooting a 'bot with his back turned and without a weapon!" the warrior steamed.

Warpath turned back to Ratchet.

"Fraggin, just get us back up there and fix me up so I can forget about this!", Warpath angrily asked, "The faster I can get my gun back, the faster I can BAM, all those slaggin' cons into scrap!

Iranian Desert – Autobot Rendezvous Point

“I’m coming, I’m coming slaggit. I ain’t that fast even with all of my limbs attached Ratchet,” Ironhide yelled at the medic as he jogged over to the rendezvous coordinates. He was starting to feel a little weak from the loss of fluids. He took a seat on the ground next to Ratchet, dropping his detached arm on the ground next to him. “If you can just seal up the leaks on my shoulder I should be good to go Ratchet.” He slowly pulled his hand away from the wound wet with various fluids. His internal systems had shut down most of the flow to the injury but there was still a fair amount dripping out.

Ironhide looked around at the other Autobots. It looked like they had taken some nasty wounds, but nothing life threatening. Warpath was probably sulking about his gun, but hopefully he wouldn’t have any problems once it was repaired. Hardhead had taken a beating but lived up to his reputation. He didn’t see the Aerialbots around, which was a little concerning.

>>”Silverbolt, Slingshot, you flyboys alright? We are gathering up to head back to the ship.”<<

The red mech looked over at Ratchet. “Just get everybody patched up enough to make it back to the repair bay. I don’t want to stay here any longer then we have to. The humans are bound to come poking around sooner or later.”