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Australia – Uluru

Air Raid followed Skydive along with Fireflight as they flew closer to the Ayres Rock. The two unleashed their missiles at the shield protecting the, but Hex simply supplied more power the shield. Of course, that power will have to run out at some point, and at that point, the dome that is protecting them will fall.

The Aerialbot decided not waste whatever missles he has left on the shield. He changed into his robot mode and floated in the air for a few seconds. During those seconds, he took out his Torque Rifle. He was sure it's 80,000 psi of rotational force will probably do something to the shield. Air Raid fired his rifle and a flashy purple beam escaped from it's muzzle. The beam hit the shield, applying it's legendary force at it. Air Raid kept his finger on the trigger for a few seconds, and let the beam rotate wildly and continue applying it's terrible force at the dome. Finally, he let the trigger go. The beam disappeared, and Air Raid transformed into his jet mode and flew closer to Skydive and Fireflight.

Australia--Uluru

"What?! Let them fly! That slagger shot down Blast-Off and I am gonna make him pay for that!"

"We all will," Onslaught hissed, distressed at the news that one of his unit had taken significant damage in the battle already. One of his instincts as a commander was to break away and directly check on the status of any injured in his unit, but countless combat scenarios had hardened him against such distractions. He was surprised that it had been Blast-Off, honestly. Vortex was more exposed and vulnerable and typically not as cautious as Blast-Off when it came to attacking from a distance. It just went to show how unorthodox this battle scenario already was and would surely continue to be. He would trust the medics on the field to fulfill their function just as he intended to fulfill his.

"What the?! We're exposed boss!"

"All part of the plan," Onslaught said, slamming his gears into reverse and moving back a few meters in order to get a more optimum firing angle. The first set of missiles on his long rear bed began to rise up from their compartments.

“Hammer forces, the order is given! Attack the rock formation and bring the Fallen to his knees!!!"

Fully as he expected, Brawl wasted no time in unloading his arsenal. Onslaught, too, saw no reason for delay, and the first of the rockets shot off into the air, quickly followed by a second.
___

"I forget how much the commanding types are always the ones to put an end to our fun sometimes."

"Never fails," Sandstorm said with a smirk, still checking the damage he had sustained thus far. Nothing critical. No way was he getting taken out this early. He'd never live it down.

"Man, Hardhead got me good up there. How you two doing? Your alt modes still capable of any sort of use?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna be pickin' those slaggin' things outta my aft for the next vorn. Should still be able to transform. Guess we'll find out," Sandstorm said in his easygoing manner, even as chaos was raining down all around them.

"Hardhead just took a dive with Howl', looks like we have a clear shot up the rock again!"

"Yeah boy," Sandstorm said, transforming into his off-road dune buggy mode. Maybe he shoulda started out with that one. Oh well. Can't live in the past.

"So you still happy you brought all that extra weaponry on this leisurely climb?"

"Ya damn skippy I am! It all fits too, heheh," Sandstorm said. "Climb if ya want to! See ya up there, slowpoke," he added before speeding off after Springer. Broadside was gonna have to do it the slow way or make himself a big, fat aerial target again. But it would also keep the big lug behind them for a while so he and Springer could clear a path.
___

>>”I understand your eagerness to make the traitor pay. However, the Fallen is still the main focus, Rampage. Our existence depends on his defeat. That being said, if you have a shot on Howlstrike, take it. Just don’t allow it to divert your attention away from our primary objective here. Understood?"<<

Yeah yeah. Survival. Prey. Rampage understood it all. He would not have functioned as a warlord of Cybertron and a member of Razorclaw's elite unit for this many ages if he hadn't. But still, the wolf-former's betrayal gnawed at his brain like a parasite. And now that they were so close...gahhhhhhhh....he wanted it so bad.

>>"Yes, Razorclaw,"<< was still his response, regardless of what was going on in his mind. Alpha predator. Beta predator. All had their place.

“Hammer forces, the order is given! Attack the rock formation and bring the Fallen to his knees!!!"

Rampage let out a low growl and Tantrum released a plume of fiery steam from his nostrils as both Predacons charged off behind their commander, unleashing weapons fire as they did so.

>>"Divebomb?! Can you get me any kinda visual or coordinates on the traitor?"<<

The battlefield was getting complex the heralds where spreading out Dragstrip could be seen facing off against his former cohorts. Howlstrike and Hardhead where slugging it out where the other had gone was beyond Silverbolt as he banked for another run on the Fallen and Hex. He lined up his attack run and began opening fire with his missiles and Electrostatic rifle to his frustration he saw the attacks harmlessly bounce of the shielding.

“Ok time for something bigger”

His internal munitions racks had already prepared bombs for his bomb bay 16 large bombs where currently cradled within racks ready to be dropped. As he swept up and over the pair he dropped his bombs hoping to cause some more strain on Hex’s shield. Thou the fire pillars that appeared would slow the ground forces down not that Sixshot would be bothered the Phase 6’er was over the other side of the fallen hammering away with all his considerable firepower.

He watched Air Raid transform unleash his torque rifle then return to his flight path with Skydive and Fireflight. Another comm channel was opened this time on the Aerialbot only frequency.

“Slingshot I want you to start targeting Hex directly see if we can’t get his control to crack, Skydive, Air Raid continue pummelling that shield see if his endurance is worth anything and Fireflight don’t think I’ve forgotten you blanket the summit with your fire fog missiles let’s see if we can’t turn up the heat on them”

Australia - South of Ayers Rock

“Glad to be aboard, Jazz!” Bluestreak replied to the music-loving mech as the gunner took aim at another vehicon projectile and opened fire, obliterating it in mid-air. “I’m telling you this Fallen guy’s not messing around, and he seems to enjoy using mechs like bullets. Fine by me just as long as it’s a bunch of vehicon scrap and not fellow Autobots! I don’t think I can shoot a comrade out of the sky!”

With that said, the black and silver Autobot raised his rifle up once more as yet another vehicon came flying towards their position. However, just before he was able to fire, the sound of Tailgate’s voice, followed by several tugs on his gun arm, drew Bluestreak’s attention away from the incoming projectile and down towards the small white and teal minibot. “Are you crazy, Tailgate?! You’re going to make me miss or hit a fellow 'Bot even! We’re under attack by a demigod that’s actually on fire and you want me to care about some fraggin’ vehicons?! Even if they do have their own sparks, they’re still Decepticons! I could care less how many of them I blow out of the.....”

Before Bluestreak could finish his proclamation, the incoming vehicon projectile slammed right into him at a high rate of speed. The force of the impact propelled the gunner right off the top of Ultra Magnus’ trailer and sent him careening to the sand covered ground behind the Autobot leader. The black and silver mech tumbled endlessly as his momentum carried him further and further away from Ayers Rock, his rifle lost somewhere in the dust cloud left in his wake. There was little Bluestreak could do to stop himself. His only option was to ride it out until he eventually came to a stop.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the chatterbot’s momentum slowed and he rolled to a halt far behind the still advancing anvil forces. Ending up on his back, Bluestreak let out a pain-filled groan as he stared up into the sky above, catching sight of a seeker as it flew overhead. It looked like Skywarp, but he couldn’t be sure. Not that it mattered. No Decepticon would give him aid, and ‘Streak wouldn’t want it anyway. The enemy was notorious for not caring much about their own injured. So, why would they care about an Autobot?

As he lay there helpless, Bluestreak ran an internal systems diagnostic to determine the extent of the damage he had sustained thanks in no small part to Tailgate’s idiocy. I’m going to have to have a long chat with him after this. The gunner’s thoughts then shifted to the readings he was receiving. Apparently, his injuries were substantial. Blue’s chest plate was crushed inwards, his headlights smashed from the vehicon impact. Dents and ruptures covered his chassis as energon leaked out from several orifices while a series of sparks erupted from different fissures. Bluestreak’s left door wing was broken off and lying somewhere on the battlefield covered in sand. His left optic was cracked and had gone dark which left him without depth perception. Of course, that was the worst injury as far as he was concerned because without depth perception he could not adequately aim or fire his rifle. As a gunner, that was his primary function when in battle. Now, he felt useless to say the very least.

Letting out another agonizing groan, Bluestreak tried to sit up as every circuit in his framework felt like they were on fire. The black and silver mech then caught sight of four large columns of fire that had erupted around Ayers Rock. Indeed, this Fallen guy meant business. “Impressive,” the Autobot gunner commented as he laid back down and finally thought to open a comm line to the medics:

>>”Ratchet, First Aid, this is Bluestreak. I’m down. Got hit pretty hard by a vehicon projectile. Multiple injuries. Need assistance ASAP.”<<
_________

Drag Strip’s focus had been on Smokescreen as the rallybot ran away from him like the cowardly Cybertronian that he was. Did he really think he could escape from a herald of the Fallen? The red and blue racer was only delaying his inevitable destruction. Why draw it out? Why not just face his ultimate fate and get it over with? Because he, like all the others, is a pathetic, disgusting Transformer and the only good Transformer was a dead one.

“You can’t run from me forever, Smokescreen! I will catch you and when I do you will crumble away into dust just like those vehicons back there!” Drag Strip yelled after the fleeing Autobot and he sought reinforcements. Not that anyone else could help him. Although, they were more than welcome to try. The more victims the merrier.

Then one such victim made himself known. The sound of Breakdown’s vocal threat reached Drag Strip’s audios, making him stop in his tracks and cast his former comrade a wide smile. “Breakdown! You nervous little glitch, you!” The yellow herald shouted back as he waved his arms around in order to mock Breakdown’s own physical display. “Did good old Motormouth send you to scare me? That’s funny coming from a coward like yourself!”

Drag Strip then raised his gravito gun and fired a shot directly at Breakdown. The shot struck the nervous Stunticon’s left shoulder, crushing it under the gravitation forces that Drag’s weapon yielded. “Hurts, doesn’t it, Breaky?! Well, Motoraft’s next! Be sure to tell him that! Ha ha!!”

The yellow herald’s laughter then quickly subsided as he caught sight of a blueish blur from the corner of his optic. A toothy grin spread across his faceplate in anticipation as suddenly, from seemingly out of nowhere, the Autobot speedster grabbed a hold of him with one arm while trying to stick him with something using the other. Unfortunately for the former racing champion, he was no longer the only one with great speed.

“What’s this?” Drag Strip queried as he swiftly reached up and grabbed Blurr’s right forearm before the Autobot was able to inject him with some kind of chemical agent. The yellow herald forced the arm down and away from his neck joint, allowing him to inspect what exactly Blurr was holding. “A syringe? Really, Blurr? You come at me with a tiny little needle? And what, prey tell, is inside, hmmm? Something the medics cooked up, no doubt? Or perhaps it was Oil Slick? Maybe he was nice enough to lend you one of his concoctions. Heh, or not!”

Drag Strip then twisted Blurr’s forearm, causing him to drop the syringe into the sand at their feet. “Too bad we’ll never know if it would have worked on me or not. But I have a better idea. Let’s inject YOU with something! Okay?!” Not waiting for a response, the yellow herald of pestilence opened his mouth wide and bit down hard on Blurr’s forearm, piercing through his metal skin until the energon lines beneath were exposed to his fang-like teeth. Then Drag’s own corrupted fluids flowed into the speedster’s system, infecting him with a potent virus that would quickly run rampant throughout the Autobot’s body.

“There!” Drag Strip proclaimed as he withdrew his teeth and released Blurr’s right forearm from his sturdy grip. Breaking the former racer’s hold around his torso, Drag turned around and pushed the blue speedster away. The yellow herald then stood back and watched as his handy work took affect. “I just gave you a little present, Blurr! An energon discharge virus! I’m sure you’ve heard of it. Soon that life-giving purple liquid inside you will start to trickle out from every bodily orifice you have. Then it will flow out in constant streams until you are finally bled dry! I hope you enjoy the suffering! I know I will! Ha ha!!”

Blast Off

Primus...What was that?

Hazily, the weakened Decepticon struggled to remember what had caused his injury. Feeling once more the pull of eldtritch energies, a flash of power from the Fallen's staff. Not even a glimmer of what the monster had been capable of.

Regaining consciousness now, with the sounds of combat still ringing in his audio receptors, Blast Off could not help but remember his longstanding disdain for earthbound transformers. Any fool could see combat on such a small scale led to disaster every time. How much better to stay far away, aloof and untouchable.

He couldn't very well have shot me out of orbit...Could he?

In his spark though, Blast Off knew the truth. Facing down such an abomination, not even orbit around the moon would have saved him.

Trying to rise up, Blast Off felt every circuit straining in agony, his systems flatly refusing to regain their hold. Even keeping his optics on line was a supreme effort of will. Though from what he observed, blindness would be preferable to what he now saw.

What The Fallen had started, the Earth itself had seemed content to finish. His armor, once gleaming umber chassis was now burned a dull black all over. Armor that would have served him well on reentry was now cracked and broken.

His limbs, thankfully or not, seemed intact, but every joint was shot. Each limb was held at odd, unnatural angles, like some poorly drawn technical schematic. Blast Off couldn't event feel his extremities to better judge their damage level. Maybe that was for the best.

I look like something Swindle would sell for scrap...How...pathetic...

With that single thought in mind, Blast Off's world faded from view once more, his energy resources unequal to the task of resurrecting him from status lock on their own.

Australia - South of Ayers Rock

Blades continued toward his destination but watched and dodged all of the flying Vehicons. It didn't seem like anything was getting through the shield and now the fire pillars. As he hovered in the air, he saw Blast Off get shot out of orbit which was rather amusing to Blades but also Bluestreak being knocked off of Ultra Magnus looking like a ball of scrap. It took several nanoclicks for him to decide what to do. His battle lust wanted to put his blades into the Fallen but as long as the shield was up, there would be nothing to do about it. On the other hand, his protective nature nudged him to help out the wounded as he knew Hot Spot would want him to do. He opted for the more productive route which for the time being is getting Bluestreak back to Ratchet and First Aid. He might be nice and get Blast Off even though the Combaticons were the utmost sworn enemy of the Protectobots. Blades flew off towards Bluestreak and when he was close he transformed and landed. He then walked over to Bluestreak.

"Hey Bluestreak, it looks like you went for a long tumble. By the looks of the damage and the path I saw, it was a good Earth mile. I think I saw what was left of your rifle. It was partially buried so hard to tell what sort of shape it was in. If you don't mind, I'm going to fly you back towards the Shuttle Longevity hoping First Aid or Ratchet is close by. I wouldn't move too much if I was you. Let me wrap my strap around you and get you going."

Australia - Uluru: Battle Line

Slingshot barreled tight as he banked to the right, desperately shaking off an weapons lock that would undoubtedly arise after his first bombardment run of the Fallen and his Herald's position on the summit of Ayers Rock. He did not level out immediately, instead he pulled back on his yolk and forced his afterburners to full as he angled his exhaust vents to enter into a sharp Ninety Degree Climb. His sensors painted the movements on the ground as the Seekers decided to finally break their self imposed cowardice, well maybe self imposed was not entirely the proper term... more like built in. They began their attack runs. It wasn't entirely creative as his and Air Raids had been. A simple sonic boom followed by brief bursts of scattered laser fire, maybe a missile or two... It was a sequence that simply lacked the grace of strategy or at least the basic employment of skill.

Still their woeful lack of grace served their purpose, being flying targets and driving a few more micron metrics of disorientation into the Herald's ranks. It hurt to admit, but Slingshot did admire Thundercracker's ability to focus the sonic roar of his in such a manner.

The Aerialbot sniper banked again once he hit an altitude of six thousand three hundred eleven feet. He leveled out and began absorbing the surroundings of the battle below. His sensors locked briefly onto Drag Strip as the pesky and rather obnoxious Stunticon dove for cover after the Autobot column with Scoop and that equally obnoxious Ranger unleashed a rather impressive barrage of fire power onto the Heralds' position. It was indeed a sight to behold. Rockets fired from the white and blue transport, carrying an entire bevy of Autobots as they added their own small arms fire to the mix trying desperately to knock Hardhead off his position over looking the three triple changers as they had been forced to climb the sandstone formation.

The shots pounded their targets, in some cases forcing the heralds to split further from their controlling master. Driving them further to the edge of the formation while hemming the Fallen within the center. Slingshot's attention was turned back to Drag Strip as the stunticon rose into a crouched position, rifle drawn. The yellow Indy Car swiftly leveled his gravitation gun on the advancing column of Autobots and immediately snapped off a quickly aimed shot.

The gravitational beam slammed just in front of Nova Strike, causing Scoop to veer off sharply and turn his weapons towards the rock formation. The construction engineer unleashed a violent broadside back at Drag Strip in order to force the Herald to re-position himself and negate a second shot from the gravitation gun. Two lances from the steel shattering dual compression cannon were paired with the significantly more accurate twin laser guided ion blaster, leveling off a devastating broadside.

Slingshot banked on his right axis and entered into a steep dive as he began cycling through his ordinance. Concussion Shells had proven ineffectual, not causing the internal damage typically caused by such weapons when they created their terrifying shock waves.

Below him Ultra Magnus had hit the breaks almost the exact moment the gravitational burst slammed into Nova Strike's reinforced armored hood. As the Aerialbot ate up altitude at speed, the white and blue Autobot Commander swung his trailer out in a wide arc. The rear axle draped over the closest edge of the defensive trench only a few meters from where Prowl had set up the initial battle lines. It lingered enough to allow those who had hitched a ride to clamor into the trench. Mini quad laser turrets on the broadside flank of the trailer laid down covering fire on the summit.

Slingshot's dive increased in velocity as he kicked his afterburners into full power. His ordinance switched from concussion rounds to the more personal favorite standard mortar shells. Explode on impact, would leave even the most heavily armored foe with a bitter taste in their receptors. Two thousand feet from target. Slingshot's sensors confirmed the targeting lock on Hex and the Fallen. He cycled through further targeting solutions as he descended from on high. One thousand feet and closing. The sniper's H.U.D. immediately flashed gold in confirmation of a high probability firing solution. Slingshot fired a full salvo of explosive mortar shells straight towards Hex and The Fallen. He then pulled up and entered yet again into a tight spiral.

He dove briefly behind a flailing Vehicon that had been pulled from the planet's surface. Using the Decepticon foot soldier as a shield, Slingshot leveled off briefly before darting again around a resigned Vehicon tank that was hanging limp. "Hope that satisfies your requests Skydive." The sniper barked over his team's communications frequency.

Australia- Uluru; the Front

His machine guns doing no appreciable or noticeable damage (and the fire scattered between the Fallen and his heralds), Nightweaver ceased firing and waited, indulging a partial transformation on his vehicle mode's underside, so his robot mode's thrusters could keep him aloft in place, disengaging his F-16's rear engine to hold his position.

His declaration of attack had gone unacknowledged, by either his comrades, their temporary Autobot allies, or the monstrous deity he'd shot at. Nightweaver was irritated his big showing of bravery and effort was apparently... unnoticed.

Nightweaver watched the Aerialbots and Thundercracker move in, and felt rather... insignificant. Probably because his weaponry wouldn't be very effective even against a modestly armored bot.

And what was that screaming noise?

He turned his attention upwards, where some interceptor was still shooting missiles at the Fallen's position. Despite his superior firepower, the interceptor's aim was even worse than Nightweaver's attempt to fire a machinegun at long range. At least Nightweaver was reasonably confident he'd inflicted a bug bite... this guy had hit nothing but dirt.

And he was flying right towards the Seeker.

"Hey, buddy, stick it in neutral, will you?" Nightweaver called, still over the wide spectrum radio.

The interceptor kept rushing.

"Interceptor, break off your course! You're gonna'-!"

The bulky interceptor crashed into him. Nightweaver's curses went out over the comm signals of the Autobots and Decepticons both.

Misfire, for his part, wished he'd remembered to turn his radio back on as the two tumbled through the air together.

-

The Rear

Bitstream allowed himself an audible sigh. He wondered what on Cybertron he was thinking when he'd made an alliance with that scrawny Seeker...

"Idiots," he quietly muttered, while scanning the battlefield. Still no sign of Sixshot... at this rate Bitstream would be press-ganged into joining the offensive before he could enact his plan.

So Bitstream stayed at the rear, setting up his equipment. Maybe if he pretended he was doing something useful no one in a command position would give him a hard time.

But time wasn't on his side...

Australia - South of Ayers Rock

"The point is that I slaggin' said so you sniveling piece of soon to be dead scrap!" Motormaster roared out his reply to Dead End's fatalistic statement over the lack of point when it came to the orders he had been given.

"That slagger appeared to Thanatos out of thin air!" The Stunticon leader shared his reasoning while clearing some of the debris from his view with his cyclone gun, "There's no telling if his underlings can do that too! So suck it up and keep your optics on that radar of yours unless you prefer me ripping them off and grinding them into this damned red sand!"

Motormaster's baleful gaze turned from Dead End back towards Uluru and their enemy, just in time to witness the birth of maelstrom of fire before his optical sensors. This whole event was starting to be so over his normal operational mission parameters.

>>"Flamewar? Are you picking up what I am seeing as well? Got any bright ideas how to deal with this kind of slag?"<<

Australia - North of Ayers Rock

"Hey, fellas!" he called out to the two Decepticons, trying to keep pace with them and ducking as a piece of Vehicon sailed past his head. "Y'all look kinda exposed. D'ya think a shield generator would help?"

"Oh come on! I am a fraggin' tank!" Brawl roared back at Groundspike full of his usual bluster and thunder. The brutish Combaticon warrior felt insulted by the battlefield engineer's question. There were so many weaker Decepticons attacking the enemy and he was being offered extra protection? He had been built for warfare. This was what Brawl lived for. Even if the Fallen were to turn his attention away from the Anvil task force, what possibly could a collision with some pathetic Vehicon do to him? Or to Sixshot for that matter? Slag, if Brawl had felt insulted by Groundspike's offer what was perhaps the most effective killing machine ever devised by Decepticon science thinking? Well, Brawl had no slightest idea to be honest but if the phase sixer was anything like Brawl, he wouldn't appreciate it. And why wasn't Groundspike dealing with Onslaught for further orders like usual? The Combaticon commander was right there, not too much further from Brawl's own position.

"Do I look I need extra pro-" Brawl bellowed as he fired another HEAT shell towards the Fallen, only to forget what he was going to say as four massive whirling pillars of fire rose from the ground and forced him to re-evaluate his current course of action.

"Onslaught?! What the slag is that?!"

Australia- North of Ayers Rock

"Do I look like I need extra pro-" snapped Brawl, before he was cut off by the appearance of 4 twisting columns of fire. Quite frankly, yes... Groundspike thought to himself- this was no ordinary foe, and even Brawl's armour might not be able to fend off the seemingly supernatural munitions, but he wasn't stupid enough to say it out loud. Best to leave the warrior to it.

"Well, if you insist..." he sighed. "I'll, uh, go see if I'm needed elsewhere."

Spying Onslaught not too far from his position, the engineer quickly shifted to vehicle mode and rumbled off towards the Combaticon commander. The sweeping fiery winds whipped up by the flaming pillars buffeted his form, but he was unperturbed- he was built of pretty stern stuff, and it was only backdraft. He just hoped that Sixshot and Brawl were made of as stern stuff as they claimed.

Eventually he reached Onslaught, and quickly shifted back into robot mode, saluting the commander.

"Erm, excuse me..." he said, dusting himself off a little. "Decepticon combat engineer Groundspike here, ready to serve..."

He gestured towards Sixshot and Brawl, and the firestorm that had erupted up amongst them.

"Those fellas over there said they were doin' fine on their own, though myself I'm not convinced..." he drawled, trying to sound professional in spite of his mannerisms (which would have reminded any squishy of a stereotypical Texan) "so, uh, whaddaya want me to do?"

Australia - South of Ayers Rock

Prowl let out an annoyed groan when he received Razorclaw’s response over his comm line. The military strategist should have expected a gruff and disrespectful response such as that. The Predacon Commander wasn’t known for his pleasantries before he became Decepticon leader. Why should that change now? He was a beast, an animal that was more befitting a cage rather than a throne. Still, the lion-former would serve his purpose during this battle and possibly get slagged in the process. A mech could only dream.

The black and white offered no return communique to the Predacon. Instead, he simply shook his cranial unit in disgust. Just then another transmission came across Prowl’s comm, this time from Blaster, who was still flying high above the battlefield inside Silverbolt’s cockpit. The Communications Expert gave an update on his assigned task, finding no signal that the Fallen was using to control his heralds. Blaster then requested to join the anvil forces on the ground, a request that the strategist was more than inclined to grant.

>>Understood, Blaster. Permission to join Anvil forces granted. There’s no sense in keeping you up there when we can use your strength to fight the Fallen down here.”<<

With his transmission sent, Prowl turned his attention to Hot Spot, who had just appeared next to the strategist. The Protectobot Commander’s observations were useful but they were not anything the black and white hadn’t already considered. Still, it was nice seeing someone else thinking logically besides the military analyst. “Yes, Hot spot, their power levels are considerably higher. They also seem to have new abilities, but the heralds‘ powers appear more limited than that of the Fallen, himself. We need to let the diversion teams do their thing while we keep the Fallen pinned down on top of Ayers Rock.”

Prowl then paused as he took another glance up at the mountain top before returning his gaze to Hot Spot. “It seems as though Hex is already on the move. However, your idea to blast the rock out from under the Fallen is still valid. I suggest we all concentrate our....” The black and white’s statement was cut short as a quartet of massive fire pillars erupted at four cardinal points around Ayers Rock. One such tornado was partially obstructing Prowl’s view of the Fallen. “Well, we seem to have a new complication. I’m going to have to rethink our strategy a bit.”

The black and white fell silent as the fiery glow from the Fallen’s latest defensive maneuver filled his optics. Clearly the Fallen had powers beyond anything Prowl had ever seen on a battlefield before. His logic center struggled for a solution, but nothing definitive presented itself in the face of such destructive supernatural abilities. Indeed, the Autobot strategist was having a very difficult time comprehending the situation and devising a course of action that would lead to ultimate victory. He was not driven by religion, but by logic and factual evidence. Of course, the facts here showed that the Fallen was virtually unstoppable by normal means. The demigod’s defeat would need to come from some equally supernatural means and not by a laser gun or rocket. Prowl knew that now, and he also knew they had no such weapon at their disposal.

>>”Anvil forces, this is Prowl. Ranged combat may no longer be a viable option. If you have a clear shot then take it! Aim for the rock below the edge where the Fallen is standing. However, we need to get by these fire pillars and assault Ayers Rock directly. Move ahead BETWEEN the swirling infernos and ascend the mountain! Use caution! I have a feeling those columns of fire may not remain stationary. Trailbreaker, use your shields to protect as many of our advancing forces from the fire as possible. It’s our only chance! Now, let’s move!”<<

Prowl then opened a separate, private comm line to Ultra Magnus:

>>”Commander Magnus, I’m afraid that even if we can get past these fire pillars we don’t have the necessary weapons to defeat the Fallen. I calculate only a 5% chance of success. He’s too powerful to be brought down by ordinary means. Perhaps your last resort option will need to be implemented sooner rather than later, sir.”<<

The military strategist knew what the last resort option meant for this planet and its inhabitants. However, by Prowl’s calculations, it was their best chance at stopping the Fallen and if that meant sacrificing the Earth in order to save the entire universe then so be it. Besides, the Autobots could be bounced back to the Ark-22 just before the option was implemented, leaving not only the demigod but the Decepticons behind to their collective fates. Killing two cyber-rats with one shot. That was something Prowl could easily live with regardless of the indigenous collateral damage left in the wake of the final solution.
_________

Bluestreak lay motionless on the desert floor as he felt the wind kick up around him. He raised his arm slowly up in order to shield his one working optic from the abrasive sand that was pelting his already damaged frame. Then, as suddenly as the wind had arrived, it was gone and Blades was standing over him. Listening to the Protectobot’s comments, the gunner laid his arm back down to his side and tried to relax. At least now he’d get the treatment he needed and hopefully get patched up enough so he could return to battle.

“Hey, Blades. Good you see you, buddy. Yeah, it was at least a mile if not more. Felt like I was one of them vehicons. Heh. Don’t worry about my rifle. I can always find a replacement in the shuttle’s armory once I’m fixed up. Just fly me back. I don’t mind how you do it. A strap’s okay with me. I won’t move at all. Just don’t drop me if you can help it. Heh. Although, even if you did drop me I doubt it would cause much more damage than I already have. Heh. I’m already pretty beat up.”

The chatterbot finally fell silent when a brilliant orange glow appeared in the distance. Bluestreak carefully lifted his cranium up to look at the latest supernatural display around Ayers Rock. “Are those....tornadoes of fire?! Wow, we really are fragged, aren’t we? I mean, how in Primus are we supposed to fight that!?!”

((OOC: More to come.))

Australia - North of Ayers Rock

Sixshot hovered in his laser pistol alt mode a short distance from the top of Ayers Rock, pummeling the Fallen and Hex with a barrage of hypersonic concussion blasts. Unfortunately, none of them were getting through the fiery demigod’s shield, which was clearly stronger than any shielding the sixchanger had ever seen before. Of course, if this was truly the Fallen of legend then whatever supernatural powers he possessed was feeding this seemingly impenetrable shield. Regardless, the fact that the Fallen required a shield to protect himself at all suggested that he was not quite as strong or indestructible as he would have everyone here believe. Perhaps it was time for a more direct approach as simply firing endlessly at a cowardly demigod was growing old with each passing astrosecond.

Before Sixshot could make a further move, however, he overheard the comments from a Decepticon down below called Groundspike. The STAG was not familiar with this particular ‘Con and he didn’t really care. The suggestion that the sixchanger needed a shield generator to protect himself was borderline offensive. “I’m a fraggin’ phase-sixer! I don’t need to hide behind a shield! Offer your generator to someone else who requires protection!”

With his annoyed response given, Sixshot ceased his assault and flew towards the top of Ayers Rock just as the quintet of fire tornados appeared at four points around the formation. One such pillar of flames rose up directly beside the sixchanger, forcing the STAG to take evasive action and accelerate towards the mountain in order to avoid a direct hit by the hellfire. Flames licked his chassis as Sixshot maneuvered directly over Ayers Rock before transforming back into his robot mode and landing effortless on top. He gazed around for a moment, unconcerned about any friendly fire that may come his way from those Cybertronians below. His only concern was the fiery demigod that now stood a short distance directly ahead.

“Hey, Fallen! I presume that's who you are as you're the only one on fire. You may not know who I am. The name’s Sixshot,” the STAG began to say as he slowly approached the ancient Prime of legend. “I am what you would call a phase-sixer, a destroyer of worlds. I am the most powerful Cybertronian here. Let’s not hide behind supernatural shields or pillars of hellfire any longer. If you are as powerful as you claim to be then face me in a one on one battle. No weapons, no fancy tricks. Just you and me, fist to fist, mano-a-mano. Look, I’m putting my weapons away.” Sixshot did just that, placing his hypersonic concussion blasters into subspace storage.

“See, I’m unarmed now with only my fists at my disposal,” Sixshot continued as he stopped a few feet from where the Fallen stood. “It has been too long since I’ve faced such a worthy adversary that matches my own might. So, drop your shield and let’s do this. Tell you what, I’ll even give you the first punch. Seriously, go ahead. Take your best shot!” The sixchanger placed his hands behind his back and raised his chin guard slightly up, giving the Fallen an easy target for the demigod’s fist to strike. "Let's see what you've got!"
_________

Razorclaw continued to race towards the base of Ayers Rock in his beast mode, unleashing more concussion shells up towards the Fallen on top of the mountain as he went. As he drew closer to the rock formation, the lion-former lost sight of the demigod as the angle of the mountain’s edge obscured his line of sight. That and the enormous pillars of fire that suddenly sprang up around the Predacon lord made it difficult to continue his attack. Razorclaw skidded to a halt just yards away from one of the tornados of hellfire, narrowly avoiding being consumed within the inferno.

“What kind of sorcery is this slag!?” The mechanical lion growled to himself as he back away from the column that stretched from the ground and high into the sky. The Decepticon Supreme Commander saw that there were at least two pillars on this side and likely another two on the south side of the mountain. However, this unholy hellfire did not completely block their path. It only complicated matters to a degree. Looking up, Razorclaw could see that Sixshot had already made it past the fiery obstacles and was somewhere on top of Ayers Rock. Perhaps the fight would be over sooner than expected. After all, the phase sixer was the most powerful mech on the battlefield. If anyone could defeat the Fallen single-handedly, it was him.

Still, Razorclaw wasn’t going to just sit idly by and allow Starscream’s new lackey have all the fun. Nor was the lion-former going to take any chances and assume that Sixshot was going to save the day. “Hammer forces, follow me!” The Predacon lord bellowed as he turned to face his men. “We will continue our attack and advance between the fire pillars. Once at the base of the rock formation we will scale the side and take the fight directly to the Fallen! Now, move your aft plates!! MOVE before the hellfire consumes us all!”

Wasting no more time, the mechanical lion raced sideways until enough distance had been placed between himself and the columns of fire. Razorclaw then leapt forward and rushed between the flaming pillars until he had reached the foundation of Ayers Rock. Sniffing along the base, the Predacon Commander quickly found a pathway that lead up the side of the mountain at a more gradual angle. It appeared to be a hiking trail of some sort that the fleshbags used for recreational purposes. Razorclaw didn’t care what it was used for. It would serve it’s purpose well enough in this situation. While the path was still steep, it was just wide enough for a Transformer and would be easier to traverse for those ground-based units who were not beast-formers than a completely vertical climb up the cliff face.

“Hammer forces, this way!” Razorclaw commanded to those who had made it past the fire pillars. Leaping forward once again, the mechanical lion began his ascension, following the trail that lead up to the summit of Ayers Rock.
_________

Hound hung back as the hammer forces comprising of mostly Decepticons advanced towards the monolithic rock formation. The green scout had very little energon left in his tank thanks largely to the enormous hologram he had to create in order to hide the hammer assault from the Fallen and his heralds. Had it even been necessary? The demigod probably knew they were there the whole time and simply didn’t care one way or another. It didn’t really matter now. Hound was pretty much useless until he had a recharge.

“I guess I should head back to one of the shuttles while I still have enough power to drive,” Hound considered aloud to no one. He then transformed back into his Jeep Wrangler alt mode and headed back around the rock formation just as the four pillars of hellfire erupted all around the mountain. Holy slag, the hologram specialist thought as he put more distance between himself and Uluru. All he could do was avoid the Fallen’s wrath until his tanks were full again. Of course, the demigod would likely not find him a threat or even notice such an insignificant ‘Bot in the vastness of the desert.

I hope I make it back before I run out of power, Hound thought as he continued onwards, keeping a close optic on his fuel cells as they fell to 7% and continued to drop with every passing astrosecond.

Secured Transmission from Wheeljack to Ultra Magnus:

>>”Commander Magnus, this is Wheeljack. I have good news. All four of the Ark’s primary generators are fully restored and functioning at optimal levels. Power output to the entire ship is normal. How goes the battle down there, sir? You guys having any luck against the Fallen?”<<

Australia--Uluru

Breakdown's field of vision had gone almost blindingly red in the aftermath of Drag Strip's attack and he crumpled to the ground like a piece of aluminum foil, writhing in pain.

Slagmafraggin' glitch-faced aftlicker- Breakdown thought, letting out a string of every curse his mind could think of as the pain continued to radiate through his body. Dent lovin' Autobots better have got the distraction they were looking for and capitalized on it.

Breakdown rolled over onto his side, his field of vision slowly clearing and beginning to register its usual data. Except for the fact that the data coming in was anything but usual, especially as a wave of superheated air washed over him and soon after his optics found the source. Not far in the distance was a huge tower of fire. And another one in the distance! And maybe more!

"Gaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhmama!" Breakdown screamed as he transformed, his tires spinning in the dirt before screeching as he tore off as fast as he could manage. He wanted to put some distance between himself and whatever the hell that was.
___

"Onslaught?! What the slag is that?!"

The question was a natural one. The massive pillars of flame that had been erected by the Fallen as some sort of additional defense mechanism were clearly a further display of this being's supernatural capabilities. No ordinary Cybertronian possessed skills like this. Even the infamous outliers that Onslaught was aware of due to his involvement in the Decepticon Secret Service could hold no candle to what this entity had at his disposal.

"It's our death, if we're not careful. Don't rely on your armor to withstand that fire," Onslaught said, repositioning himself for a renewed assault, though it was not long before he was approached by another Decepticon subordinate. Groundspike.

"Erm, excuse me..." he said, dusting himself off a little. "Decepticon combat engineer Groundspike here, ready to serve...those fellas over there said they were doin' fine on their own, though myself I'm not convinced...so, uh, whaddaya want me to do?"

But before Onslaught could answer the mech, a transmission from their erstwhile Autobot co-commander came in, providing that very response. To Onslaught's audio receptors it was borderline lunacy.

>>"You have a 'feeling' that they 'may' not remain stationary, you Autobranded fool?!? I would say it's a near statistical certainty that they won't, given the fact that the Fallen can conjure them in the first place!"<< Onslaught fired back, losing his customary cool for a moment as he considered the available alternatives. This might not be the time for outright insubordination. But creative adaptation? Certainly. The non-Aerialbots might be limited to their ground-based alternate modes, but the Decepticons most definitely were not. Prowl would likely have no qualms about risking their imminent destruction while exercising any advantage he could against the Fallen. Onslaught had no intention of giving him that satisfaction.

Transforming, Onslaught looked to Brawl and Groundspike before looking up at the crest of the massive rock formation.

"We do as commanded, though with a touch more maneuverability. The Autobots might have to go up the hard--and slow--way. We don't," Onslaught said. "Be prepared for anything when you reach the top."

Activating his flight capabilities, Onslaught lifted off and began to head skyward, careful to steer himself well clear of the swirling, fiery vortexes.

Australia--Uluru

"Hammer forces, follow me!" The Predacon lord bellowed as he turned to face his men. “We will continue our attack and advance between the fire pillars. Once at the base of the rock formation we will scale the side and take the fight directly to the Fallen! Now, move your aft plates!! MOVE before the hellfire consumes us all!"

Rampage didn't need be told twice. The other Predacons surely didn't need to be either. He kept pace with the Decepticon Supreme Commander arguably the best out of all of them, having chosen a similar alt mode to correspond to his functioning on this world. It was definitely coming in handy now.

This was definitely prey unlike any that Rampage had ever hunted. All the supernatural mumbo jumbo was throwing him off his game a little. But just a little. Energy blasts he could handle. He'd seen tons of those in his lifetime. Suddenly lifting and throwing mechs through the air? Okay, he'd seen that here and there when some science head whipped out their gravi or magnetic tech. But huge columns of fire?

That was a new one.

Don't get toasted, don't get toasted, don't get toasted, Rampage chided himself mentally as he leapt from one piece of semi-stable footing to another, always keeping a stray optic open here and there for any signs of the traitor.
___

Tantrum, for his part, was having a more difficult time of it and was becoming angrier by the miscrosecond. Step. Trip. Step step. Trip. Grrrrrrrrrrr.....

Step.

Stepppppp.

Gonna kill everything when I get up there.

Australia--Uluru Anvil Forces

Battletrap was enjoying being in his dual mode until things started flying at and by him. Somehow his foe was throwing the Decepticon Vehicons back at them. The helicopter portion dodged a couple of Vehicons and then knocked down a couple with its weapons. The land rover had fun blasting the ones the helicopter sent its way. After the path was cleared, the helicopter made its way towards the summit but barely dodged the giant fire pillars. It was so close the helicopter had to land from the sudden intense rise in temperatures. The landing wasn't the best as it did take some damage on the landing gear. The pain from the heat and fire was felt by both halves but more on the helicopter. After a few moments the helicopter mode was able to take back off but maneuverability was limited. The jeep portion noticed where everyone else was heading to and joined up several feet away from Motormaster along the trenches. Sensing where the jeep was at, the helicopter form rejoined it and transformed back into robot mode. Once he was stable, Battletrap walked carefully over to Motormaster.

"The pillars are very hot. It burned my helicopter side. Had trouble landing and flying. Flight might be hard next time."

While he waited for a response from Motormaster and hopefully not one of his famous beatings, Battletrap decided to send a private communication to Shadowing.

>>Any word from Commander Shockwave? Fight not going well. Pillars are very hot. Do we have fire dampener?<<


________________________________

Skydive was glad to see Hex move down so the Fallen would be an easier target. The thing he wasn't happy to see was the fire columns springing up around the rock formation. Skydive continued to chat a little on the Aerialbot frequency.

>>Hey guys, the fire pillars gives me an idea for our next training session but right now I say we try to avoid them. If anything this will give us a chance to show off again to the Seekers and other flying Cons what we can do with our flying abilities.<<

Skydive flew around the pillars staying as far away from them as possible but at the same time it made it difficult to line up any good shots at the Fallen. Instead of wasting his remaining two missiles, Skydive switched to his guns and started shooting at the Fallen.

Fireflight heard Silverbolt's command and continued launching another pair of fire fog missiles. With Hex off the top, it made Fireflight wonder where the rest of the heralds went. After the missiles landed, Fireflight broke off the attack and did a quick sweep of situation.

>>Silverbolt, we have one herald in a fight on the back side, Hex leaving and moving down the front side, and I don't see Drag Strip nor the other Con herald close by. It seems the distraction tactic is working fairly well so far. Do you want me to track down the other two or remain on the attack?<<

_________________________________

Blades pulled his strap out as Bluestreak responded. When there was a mention of fire tornadoes, Blades looked back and saw what he meant. The sight almost overwhelmed him and wondered if Hot Spot could put them out or if his commander's armor would take the heat if he was hit by one of them.

"You know, with all of the power the Fallen has shown, he has yet to directly attack any of us. I wonder if he is all show and little action. It wouldn't surprise me he has very little beyond these big shows of power."

Blades was trying to show confidence but he knew if he tried to fly towards those fire tornadoes, it would be very difficult and most likely he would be turned into metal slag if he got too close. He then wrapped the strap carefully around Bluestreak and secured him the best he could. After he was happy with it, Blades transformed back into the helicopter and flew off towards the Autobot shuttles.

>>First Aid, Ratchet, don't want to tell you this but you are going to get busy and quick. I'm bringing in Bluestreak and I think I might have seen Blast Off get knocked out of orbit somehow. I'm tempted to leave that slagart out in the field but it would go against the Protectobot code in this temporary alliance.<<

Australia--Uluru

Trailbreaker continued forward alongside the Anvil forces. He felt something ache in his Energon Processor when he looked at the fiery pillars. He followed Prowl's orders, and activated his shield. He set it to cover as much radius as possible to protect as much Autobots as possible. Trailbreaker was trying to keep up with the rest of the Autobots, but his slow speed caused him to lag behind, not able to cover as many Autobots as he desired. He wanted to transform into his alternate mode to speed up, but he knew that it's fuel consumption would cause many problems later on, and would rather keep that fuel for Life-Or-Death situations, the ones that really matter.

The shield has already been hit by many vehicons and random blasts and lasers. It was weakening, it's orange color becoming more and more transparent. The shield got weaker the larger it was, and stronger when it was smaller. When Trailbreaker activated it to only protect himself, he could have the shield on for many megacycles, and protect him from some of the most dangerous decepticon weapons. But now, spread thin around his fellow Autobots, it was weak. Mere breems of it constantly being hit and it will deactivate.

Soon enough, a vehicon violently hit the already weak shield, deactivating it. "Uhhh, bots, The shield is down, I will need a few more breems before I could turn it on again" said Trailbreaker. With the shield down, the autobots under his protection were no longer 'protected'

Australia - Uluru

>>"Chromedome! Rewind! Over here!"<< Axle beckoned the two mechs to his location with several waves of his hand. >>”I’m going to get Hex’s attention. Make him come down off that rock so we can handle him better. You two stay out of sight. Chances are if he sees you he won’t hold back."<<

>>”Roger that, Axle!”<< Rewind replied over the comms as Chromedome pulled up behind the sand dune that the medic had called the pair over to. Rewind pulled the handle of the passenger side door and hopped out onto the red sand. The tiny archivist tip-toed to the edge of the dune and peeked out to see what was going on, his head-camera once again recording. Of course, all it captured before Rewind sprawled back behind the dune was a Vehicon’s flailing limbs. “Ahh!”

The Vehicon bounced with a heavy thud and crash landed, sliding for another hundred meters or so before finally coming to a stop. Rewind held his head with wide optics. If that had hit him…then…then…that might’ve...hurt. Or killed him. Probably the second one. Maybe he ought to stay here. Behind this sand dune. Until Axle came back. Yeah.

Rewind then remembered that there was a Chromedome nearby. His Domey. Oops. That probably hadn’t instilled the greatest faith in his continued operation. The archivist hastily picked himself up off of the sand and dusted himself off, keeping close to the side of the dune. “Uh…heh. Close call, huh? Don’t worry, though Domey! I’ve got it in hand.”

“Let’s try that again a little more…carefully this time…” Rewind peeked out behind the sand dune once more, glancing about for Axle. It wasn’t long before the cassettobot spied the medic, but something quickly drew his optic back toward the rock. Pillars. Of Fire. Fire tornadoes essentially. That looked really awesome. And deadly. Great footage. Terrifying to witness. What was he going to categorize this under?


Uluru – East of Ayer’s Rock

“You will regret that, Autobot!" Hardhead bellowed as he stepped out of the trench. Blindside almost smirked. Hearing that come from another Autobot’s vocalizers…it was an amusing experience for the blind tactician. Any amusement that Blindside felt instantaneously dissolved when Hardhead drew out his scatterblasters. Oh…this was going to get ugly very quickly.

“Let’s see how well you dodge these, you sightless freak!!! Ha ha!!"

Blindside turned to the side and tried to throw himself out of the way in a last ditch attempt to save himself from the thousand shards of death barreling toward him at what looked like Mach one. Of course, from this range, he wouldn’t be able to escape the hail of death. The shards of metal impacted into his side, shearing off his right wing and thudding into his arm and torso as he lifted up his arm to shield his faceplate.

The next thing Blindside knew, he was lying face down writhing in agonizingly intense pain. His senses seemed both oddly dulled and sharpened. He ‘saw’ Howlstrike make his move on Hardhead and have it backfire on the lupine warrior. “Ngh…! N-no..c’mon…” Blindside grunted out as he pushed against the ground, energon spilling out of him with every little exertion. “Slaggit..! Not here…Not dyin’ here…”

Somehow, miraculously, Blindside rose to his feet and clutched at his injured side weakly. To his right, Howlstrike was pinned, having his jaws pulled apart by the green herald as his limbs flailed about wildly. Blindside’s faceplate darkened with fury as he began to run toward the locked pair. Faster…! Faster! More and more energon spilled out of his body as Blindside broke out into a sprint. He barely noticed. No, his fury numbed all other sensation.

Firing his foot thrusters, Blindside soared into the air pulling back his injured arm’s energy blade as he sailed at Hardhead in a full-bodied tackle, syringe gripped in his is other hand. “RRRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!”

>>"Blindside, get this fragger-

With a sickening crack, Blindside impacted Hardhead, plunging his energy sabre deep into the green herald’s shoulder, hurling them both away from Howlstrike. With his sabre planted into the herald’s shoulder, Blindside brought his other arm around and slammed the syringe’s needle into Hardhead’s neck and injected him with the sedative.

-off of me! Use the syringe! NOW!!!"<<

Uluru – South of Ayer’s Rock

Blurr’s optics practically turned into round saucers when Drag Strip actually managed to snatch his arm out of the air. How. Was. That. Even. Possible!? A shocked expression transfixed itself onto Blurr’s faceplate as his higher brain functions seemed to shut down. Struck speechless.

“What’s this?"

“Uhh…”

“A syringe? Really, Blurr? You come at me with a tiny little needle? And what, prey tell, is inside, hmmm? Something the medics cooked up, no doubt? Or perhaps it was Oil Slick? Maybe he was nice enough to lend you one of his concoctions. Heh, or not!"

With a sharp jerk, Drag Strip twisted his arm, causing the speedster to yelp in pain and drop the syringe onto the sand below. The circuits in his processor kicked back in at the pain, firing at full speed once more as the speedster snapped out of his shock.

“Too bad we’ll never know if it would have worked on me or not. But I have a better idea. Let’s inject YOU with something! Okay?!"

Blurr hastily tried to jerk his arm away from the herald’s iron grip –strangely strong for being so small- but it was too late. Drag Strip had already bit down on his arm, piercing his energon lines. Injecting him with his corrupted fluids. Instantly, Blurr began to feel the effects. Everything about Blurr was fast. Including the energon that flowed through him. The corrupt fluids raced through his body.

Suddenly, he was no longer holding onto Drap Strip but sprawled on the ground. His optics locked onto his bitten arm, staring with wide optics. The blue speedster was dimly aware of Drag Strip saying something, but everything was…strangely muted and…it was becoming increasingly difficult to see.

Blurr raised a hand to his optics as he felt something trickle down his faceplate. Energon. Energon discharge virus. No. Not much time. Blurr jumped to his feet, energon already squirting out of every orifice and crevice. The blue speedster quickly drew his photon pistol out and fired at Drag Strip rapid-fire and wild until the gun overheated in his hands an exploded as the energon leaking from his optics completely obscured his vision.

Pleasepleasepleasehithim!

Australia – South of Ayer’s Rock

Skids, in his navy blue alternate mode, chose to drive alongside their newest supreme commander Ultra Magnus. His long-time partner and comrade Getaway was perched atop of him like a turret mounted to a mobile platform. But that was as far as his observations went as his thoughts drifted back to Ultra Magnus.

Skids wondered how the former city commander was adapting to his new role as supreme commander. Magnus had always been a more by-the-book commander than his brother. He wondered how Magnus and Prowl would get along in the struggles to come – if there were such struggles to be had. Survival was not definite to – did something just fall beside him – day.

Speaking of Prowl…the strategist hadn’t really contacted him or – something…fall off Magnus? – Getaway recently regarding any new assignments. Not that Skids particularly minded. The theoretician found working for Prowl…uncomfortable in more than one way, but Skids did understand and appreciate the black and white bot like few could.

Hm…Optimus and Prowl…their styles seemed to clash with one another, really. Magnus seemed to fall more in line with Prowl’s line of thinking, but Skids wasn’t exactly sure if that was a good thing. The balance-

CLANK!

Someone with considerable mass impacted Skids, sending the blue Autobot spinning out into a cloud of sand and dust. Dazed and confused, Skids’ internal systems were buzzing with damage reports. With a pained groan, Skids transformed slowly and looked about to see what had struck him so hard. A broken Vehicon laid strewn to bits nearby. Vehicon? Skids turned to look at Ayer’s Rock to see that a whole contingent of Vehicons were hailing down as projectiles onto the combined anvil forces.

Suddenly, four pillars of fire rose up from the base of the rock and roared to the skies, their searing tongues of flame seeking to melt any who approached. Skids gawked at the scene, awestruck by the supernatural power of it all. It was Prowl who broke Skids from his stupefied stare with fresh orders. Skids checked his damage diagnostics. He was definitely not going toe-to-toe with any demigods today, but he could still take part in the fight.

Skids limped onward toward Prowl, Ultra Magnus, Getaway, and the flaming apparition that sought their destruction. This was going to be one of those days…

Uluru - South of Ayer's Rock

As Skullcruncher and Weirdwolf fired the EMPs that they had raided from the Thanatos armory, Flamewar kept beating away any Vehicons that flew at them though fewer and fewer did so until the volley of living projectiles finally passed over them and to the troops behind. Flamewar hefted her fusion crossbow at the Fallen but paused as she saw Sixshot land atop the rock and begin talking to the demigod. What was he…Oh no…

The black operative let out an audible groan and lowered her crossbow. That was Sixshot for you. At least Sixshot confronting him directly would give her a moment to think about a strategy to take down the flaming entity. Powerful though he might be, it was still a Cybertronian body that stood before them. A well placed shot of cosmic rust might…More explosions from the other side of the rock notified her that the Razorclaw had initiated the hammer assault.

If this hammer and anvil thing didn’t work then…this war would be all for nothing, ending only in the extinction of their race by some third party. Bah. She would die before she let that happen. Flamewar glanced up to see that Warwolf had brought her very close to the rock itself, cutting off her view of the Fallen. But perhaps this way…she could scale the rock unnoticed.

Hopping up so that her feet were firmly planted on Warwolf’s back, Flamewar leaped from the lupine interrogator’s back and slammed against the hard rock. Putting away her crossbow, Flamewar began the steep ascent to the top. A sudden, incredible searing pain, however soon impeded most progress.

Looking to her right, Flamewar saw a massive swirling vortex of flame erupting from out of nowhere. Hissing with pain, the black operative projected a force field over her chassis to protect her from the worst of the heat. It didn’t help much, but it was something. Flamewar could almost feel her armor growing softer under the flaming tornado’s intense blaze.

She climbed diagonally now, trying to put as much distance between her and the flame as she could. If the Fallen could summon fire from the void, he could probably move it around too.

Counting on you to keep this slagger busy, Sixshot…Don’t let me down, Flamewar thought to herself as she watched her systems struggling to cool her almost glowing armor. The black operative had almost reached the top when a communique from Motormaster buzzed in her audios.

>>"Flamewar? Are you picking up what I am seeing as well? Got any bright ideas how to deal with this kind of slag?"<<

>>”You mean the swirling pillars of flame that almost melted me alive? Yes, I’m quite aware of them,”<< Flamewar replied with a grunt as she continued to pull herself up the rock. Most Decepticons weren’t equipped with fire suppression gear, and she was sure that none of them had brought any along…which only left a few options, if this fire could even be stopped by normal means. She held no assumptions.

>>”If you want to try and get rid of them, try creating a vacuum or smothering them by using up the oxygen around them. There’s no guarantee that those tactics will work, however. You could just try to ascend between them or fly above them, but they probably won’t stay put for much longer.”<<

Flamewar cut the line as she reached the top of the rock and cautiously peered over the edge. She couldn’t see the Fallen from here, which also meant that she was also out of the line of sight. Jumping up onto the rock, Flamewar ducked into a nearby trench and worked her way stealthily across the rock, stopping when both Sixshot and the Fallen came into view.

She ducked down and drew out her specially prepared bolt, setting it on to the crossbow gingerly, and then watched from her concealed shelter. As ready as she was to fire, Flamewar hoped that it would not be necessary. If Sixshot was defeated here then…well. That would be something to think about when and if it came to pass.


Australia – Skies Above

Divebomb swung back into the air as his attacks bounced off of the Fallen harmlessly thanks to the force field that his little glitch had conjured up. The sole flying Predacon hissed with frustration, and took out his anger on the halo of Vehicons that the Fallen had sent flying at those below. That was. Until Shadowing caught his attention.
"These kinds of attacks are not going to do anything with them raising shield. I suggest organizing simultaneous attacks from different angles. Try to overwhelm their attention and hopefully get in a surprise hit.”

Divebomb glided and considered the proposal. It was sound logically. Another glance down to the field told him that the hammer squad had made their move against the Fallen. Attacking in unison with them heightened their chances of success. >>”Aerial cauldron! Provide cover for the hammer pack and attack in unison with them from the east and west,”<< Divebomb ordered, nodding to Shadowing as the cyberhawk broke off to fly to the east of Ayer’s Rock.

As he did, Rampage’s always charming voice crackled over his internal audios.

>>"Divebomb?! Can you get me any kinda visual or coordinates on the traitor?"<<

Divebomb cast his optics downward, but it did not take him long to spot the traitor. Hardhead had him by the jaws…haha! What a sight! But…that green minion had ought to respect just whose prey Howlstrike was. Fortunately for Divebomb and the rest of the Predacons, another of the autobot’s number tackled him off of Howlstrike.

Divebomb could really watch this all day, but he had more pressing matters to tend to as he turned his attention back to the rock to see that it now had fire tornadoes. That was interesting. Scary as all get out, but Divebomb couldn’t falter. Not when his alpha was charging headfirst into it.

>>”I got him in my sights, Rampage. He’s off to the east of Ayer’s Rock, dealing with one of the Fallen’s lackies right now. Pretty far off,”<< Divebomb squawked back over the comms.


>>Understood, Blaster. Permission to join Anvil forces granted. There’s no sense in keeping you up there when we can use your strength to fight the Fallen down here."<<

Oh, thank Primus. He could finally get out of this cockpit and into the action. Blaster was ecstatic. As much as his alternate form was easily storable and portable, the chief communications officer of the Autobots didn’t exactly care for tight, enclosed spaces. “Hey Silverbolt! I’ve got clearance from Prowl to join up with the Anvil forces on the ground. Wanna drop me an’ Eject off?”

Australia - Uluru

Pulling up behind the sand dune Axle had called them over to, Rewind ejected himself from Chromedome's passenger compartment and the mnemosurgeon revert back to his robot mode.

“Uh…heh. Close call, huh? Don’t worry, though Domey! I’ve got it in hand."

"C'mon, we could hide in the trenches the vehicons dug out before they got turned into the Fallen's personal ammunition supply." The mnemosurgeon replied to his conjunx endura as he took Axle's advise to stay out of sight, diving into a nearby trench and drawing both his laser pistols from his holsters. He set one of his weapons down and took a seat in the dugout to open an access panel running along his forearm. The syringes were stored safely inside, ensuring no harm would come to them. Chromedome closed the panel before sitting back up to peer over the ledge of the trench. He took noticed of the great pillars of fire the fallen Prime had summoned around Ayer's Rock.

"Well... At least we ought to be safe from those vehicon-rockets down here." Chromedome commented as a flying chunk of vehicon-shaped metal impacted the opposite edge of the trench about 25 feet from where he stood. "Perhaps not..."

((OOC: More to come later))

Australia - East of Ayers Rock

A devilish grin spread across Hardhead’s visage as he slowly pried Howlstrike’s wolf jaws further and further apart. Soon they would snap and his lower jaw would hang there limp, bleeding energon onto the desert sand beneath them both. The green warrior was a soldier and not normally a torturer. That was Darkride’s job and Hardhead had no intention of taking that designation away from his fellow herald. However, there were times such as this when the herald of war wanted to indulge a bit more into his darkest side. There was something about Howlstrike that made Hardhead want to inflict as much pain as possible on him. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly. Perhaps it was the traitor aspect of the former Predacon. Turning your back on comrades in arms was frowned upon no matter what side of war your were on. Of course, the green herald cared nothing about either side, but the traitor still irked him in some strange way.

“You feel that, Howl, ol' buddy?” Hardhead spat out at the mechanical timber wolf as the beast-former’s jaws cracked under the pressure. “That’s pure pain and it’s all for you!! Haha!” As Howlstrike unleashed another roar of agony, the herald of war laughed, throwing his head back just as Blindside suddenly careened into him from out of nowhere. The disabled Autobot’s energy blade was immediately thrust into Hardhead’s left shoulder as both mechs were propelled away from the former Predacon. As the discomfort of the blade radiated out from his damaged shoulder joint, Hardhead didn’t even feel the insignificant pin prick of the syringe as it was injected into his neck.

“Arrggghhhh!!!” The warrior herald bellowed as both he and Blindside struck the ground and skidded to a halt in the sand. “You cowardly fragger! Get off me!!” Hardhead shouted, struggling to regain his bearings. The sedative had already begun to take affect even if the green soldier did not yet realize what was happening to him. The former Autobot quickly broke free from Blindside’s hold and kicked the sightless ‘Bot away from him.

Getting to his feet, Hardhead felt a tad woozy, stumbling a bit before glancing over at his left shoulder plate where the energy blade was still embedded. The green warrior reached around with his right hand and grasp the saber, yanking it out with one swift tug. “You think this puny blade will stop me, freak?” Hardhead questioned his adversary in a deep voice. “You are sorely mistaken!” Holding the energy saber in his right hand, the herald of war pulled out Howlstrike’s energo sword from subspace storage and held that blade in his left. “Time for.....retribution.”

Hardhead stuttered as the sedative coursed further and further through his systems. Like any true warrior, he ignored the sensation and focused on the upcoming evisceration of Blindside. “I will cut you....from crotch plate to...sternum....and let your.....insides spill out.....onto....the sand.” Hardhead stumbled forward, his legs feeling much heavier now than before. His vision began to blur, but he simply shook his cranium to restore his optics to optimal efficiency. “I don’t know...what you did....to me....but it won’t......work!” Hardhead took a deep intake of air as he raised the former Predacon’s sword to bare, readying to slice Blindside in half.

Suddenly, an impact from the side sent Hardhead back down to the ground with great force, loosing his grip on both stolen blades in the process. The green herald rolled over onto his back and peered up to see who his attacker was this time. His fuzzy vision made it difficult to see the silhouette clearly, but soon the identity of the mech became apparent. “Howlstrike?!?”

“Yes, Hardhead, it’s me,” the former Predacon growled as he stood in his robot form over the herald. Howlstrike clutched his sword once again after retrieving it from the sand where the green warrior had just dropped it. “You thought you had me beat. I’m afraid you were mistaken!”

“Don’t worry....Howl,” Hardhead retorted as he slowly sat up, rubbing his groggy cranium as he did so. “I intend to...rectify....the situation.” The herald still did not understand why he felt so sluggish. It was not as if Blindside’s blade had been covered in some kind of toxin. Wait. Hardhead moved his hand down from his cranial unit until it rested on the side of his neck. There he found the answer to his slow response time. The war veteran pulled a small, empty syringe from his main energon line and looked at it in his hand, trying to focus on the small needle. “What’s this? A....syringe?! I’ve been....”

“Drugged? Yes,” Howlstrike finished Hardhead’s sentence as the sitting herald peered up at him, a confused and dazed look etched on the warrior’s visage. “I was expecting you to be completed knocked out, but I guess you're just too damn big.”

Without warning, the Autobot hunter brought his energo sword up and, with one swift stroke, severed Hardhead’s cranium from the rest of his body. Sparks flew as energon poured from the mangled stump. The green herald’s whole body began to twitch and writhe around uncontrollably as the detached head came to a rest in the sand a short distance away. Howl took several steps back from the still moving headless body, half expecting Hardhead to get up and put his cranium back on his shoulders. That would’ve been a real bad turn of events, but thankfully that did not happen. Instead, the body finally stopped twitching as stasis lock overcame the Fallen’s herald of war.

“Mission, and retribution, accomplished,” Howlstrike muttered as he placed his sword away and approached the injured Blindside. Kneeling down next to his new friend, the former Predacon smirked. “For a blind Autobot you did pretty well. Thanks for the help. You have my respect.” Howl placed a firm hand on the sightless mech’s shoulder before gazing down at the damage Hardhead had inflicted on the tactician. “That looks bad. You should get the hatchet to fix that.” The Autobot hunter then stood back up and extended a helping hand down to assist Blindside in standing. “You can lean on me while we make our way back to the Longevity.”

Howlstrike, himself, had sustained a decent amount of damage from his battle with Hardhead. However, none of it was quite as bad as Blindside’s injuries nor would he let it slow him down. Naturally, a mech like Howl would never admit to being hurt, but once he was back at the shuttle he’d likely seek a recharge and some minor repairs so that he could get back out there as quickly as possible and take on the Fallen and the remaining heralds.

((OOC: More to come.))

"We do as commanded, though with a touch more maneuverability. The Autobots might have to go up the hard--and slow--way. We don't," Onslaught said. "Be prepared for anything when you reach the top."

With the roar of combusting fuel, the Combaticon leader ignited his robot mode thrusters and jetted off into the sky, weaving around the fiery vortexes and heading towards the massive orange rock formation in the distance.

Groundspike scratched his head. Presumably, Onslaught wanted him to follow his lead. This was going to be rather difficult given his lack of flight capabilities...

Shrugging, he shifted into vehicle mode and rumbled off after the commander towards the rock...very, very slowly.

Australia - South of Ayers Rock

Drag Strip watched and laughed as energon began to leak out of Blurr from every opening or crack there was on his framework. The blue speedster began to panic, leaping up and firing his photon pistol in rapid succession at the former Stunticon. Drag took quick action, dodging all but one of the shots which struck him on his right shoulder. The force of the hit knocked him back a few feet just as he noticed that Blurr’s gun had exploded in his faceplate. “Hahaha!! That’s what you get, dumb-aft! Now what are you going to do without your little gun, huh? Oh, right, I forgot. You’re going to bleed to death! Haha!! And once you do I’m going to drink your own energon right off the ground your currently standing on and then I’ll spit it back in your dead face...”

The yellow herald’s taunts suddenly ceased as a terrible feeling swept over him like an ominous wave. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt before nor did he wish to feel again. Drag Strip quickly checked his internal systems and found nothing wrong or out of the ordinary. No, it wasn’t him at all. It was something else. Or...someone else. “Hardhead?” The former Stunticon muttered as he looked towards the east where the green warrior had last been seen. Drag’s sensors tried to detect his fellow herald’s signature, but found nothing except two Cybertronians still functioning in the distance. “Impossible! Hardhead can’t be....I mean, he couldn’t have been...” Drag choked back the words, “...defeated!”

It seemed unlikely but the feeling Drag Strip had just experienced deep within his circuits strongly suggested that Hardhead had befallen a terrible fate, one that he would not be getting up from any time soon. It was a sensation of pain, fear and finally silence. The former Stunticon was shocked, standing dumbfounded as the blue speedster continued to suffer from the discharge virus and Breakdown fled the scene like the coward that he was. Drag Strip was about to open a comm line to Hardhead to confirm his suspicions when the yellow herald was suddenly struck by a electro-disruptor blast.

“What the.....?” Drag exclaimed as he turned to see Smokescreen running towards him, his rifle in hand. “You!”

“You didn’t forget about me did you, Drag?!” The rallybot shouted back as he unleashed several more shots from his weapon. The blasts hit home one after another, striking Drag Strip in his chest plate in a series of flashes which knocked the former Stunticon back and eventually forced him to his knees. The effects of the numerous electrical blasts surged through his circuitry, causing short outs and interference at every turn. Drag Strip had endured the last assault from Smokescreen’s rifle without much difficulty, but that had only been a single hit. This was multiple strikes that had now left the yellow herald vulnerable to attack. He would eventually shake it off, but it would take longer this time.

With Drag Strip disabled, at least for the moment, Smokescreen quickly rushed to the blue speedster’s side, making sure not to touch him. Otherwise, he risked infection from the discharge virus. “Blurr, are you okay? Where’s the syringe?!” The rallybot could see that the former race champion was in very bad shape and was only getting worse with each passing astrosecond. He could also see that his idol did not have the syringe any longer. It must have been dropped. Not waiting for a response, Smokey quickly scanned the area, getting down on all fours to search for the sedative. Finally, the diversion expert’s actuators ran across the syringe in the sand and swiftly picked it up.

“Thank Primus,” Smokescreen said aloud as he could see that the vile and its contents were still intact. Wasting no more time, the rallybot rushed to where Drag Strip was stilling reeling from the electro-disruptor effects and leapt onto the herald’s back. “Sorry, Drag, but this is one contest you’re not going to win!” With that said, Smokey pulled his arm back and went to plunge the syringe into the former Stunticon’s neck when Drag Strip abruptly flung his cranium back, reverse head-butting Smokescreen directly in his faceplate. “Aggghhh!!” The red and blue racer yelled as he fell backwards off of the herald, landing in the sand with a thud.

“I’m afraid I always win, Smokey,” Drag Strip said as he turned around and slowly crawled towards the rallybot. The disruptor effects were still with him, but they had diminished greatly since the initial attack. “You wasted too much time looking for your precious syringe, street racer. I’m not your ordinary mech. Your rifle won’t affect me for long.”

“I didn’t think it would,” Smokescreen retorted as his HUD flickered from the impact of the reverse headbutt. Disoriented, the rallybot tried to get to his feet but was quickly brought back down to ground level by Drag Strip who had grabbed him by his ankle joint. Not wanting to be infected by anything, Smokey used his free leg and quickly kicked the yellow herald hard several times in his faceplate. Finally, Drag let go as energon ran out of his olfactory nose ports. Wasting no time, the diversion expert swiftly lunged half-blind at the herald, attempting to inject him with the syringe once again.

“Ow! Fraggit!!” Drag Strip shouted as the needle pierced his left audio receptor. Smokescreen had wanted to inject it into the main energon line in Drag’s neck, but the rallybot’s disorientation caused him to miss his mark. Still, it was better than nothing.

“Sleepy sleep, Draggy!” The diversion expert whispered as he injected the contents into the herald’s head. Drag Strip quickly reached up and grabbed Smokey’s wrist, twisting it and forcing it away from the herald’s pierced audio. “Aaahhhh!!!”

“You’ll pay for that, Smokes,” the herald of pestilence growled. “Oh, you’ll pay dearly.” From the tips of his actuators, Drag Strip produced cosmic rust spores which quickly spread onto Smokescreen’s twisted wrist. “Rust in peace, you filthy slagger!!” The former Stunticon then pulled away from the diversion specialist and slowly got to his feet. He stumbled backwards as the sedative began to take affect. Feeling lightheaded and groggy, Drag Strip staggered away and headed back towards Ayers Rock, hoping he could reach the Fallen before the drug took full affect.

>>”Master, the Cybertronians are attempting to use a sedative on us. I fear that Hardhead is down and I’ve also been injected. Though, not in the main energon line, I still feel the drug's affects. I'm going to need assistance.”<<
_________

Once Drag Strip had moved away, Smokescreen quickly sat up and looked down at his right hand which was now covered with cosmic rust. How ironic this situation was that he now found himself in. Just a few cycles ago he had used this same disease as a cover story in order to explain his new body. Perhaps it was what the humans refer to as karma coming back to bite him in the aft. Regardless, this cosmic rust was very real, indeed, and it seemed to be spreading much faster than normal. If what had happened to the vehicons earlier was any indication, Smokey only had a breem, maybe less, before he rusted away into nothing.

>>Ratchet, First Aid, anybody! Drag Strip has infected me with cosmic rust and Blurr with an energon discharge virus. We don’t have much time. We need help now! I’m sending our coordinates as I speak.”<<

Cutting his comm line, Smokescreen glanced back down to see that the rust was now spreading past his wrist and up his right forearm. Holy frag, this is not good! The medics won’t make it in time. I’ve got to think of something and fast! The rallybot’s mind raced to find a solution. Unfortunately, he had no corrostop on him to use, and there was no guarantee that even if he had corrostop that it would work on a supernatural virus. No, there was no way to treat the virus. If he could only separate himself from it somehow. Wait. That’s it!

Without further delay, Smokescreen raised his unaffected left arm and withdrew his hand into the appendage, producing a laser torch in its place. The rallybot then ignited the torch and carefully brought it over to his right arm. Thankfully, his disorientation from the headbutt had mostly subsided, allowing him to conduct the task he needed to do in order to survive the disease. Primus, this is going to hurt, Smokey thought as the torch came into contact with the elbow joint.

“AAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!” The diversion expert screamed as searing pain erupted though his right arm. He did not stop, though. He could not stop, and he could not pass out from the agony. If he did, the cosmic rust would spread over his whole body and he’d end up like those various vehicons. His appendage was a lost cause anyway and could easily be replaced. He just needed to endure the excruciating pain for a few more astroseconds.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of anguish, Smokescreen’s right forearm was severed, the laser torch having successfully cut all the way through the elbow joint. The appendage fell into the sand next to him as the rust consumed it. As his left hand reappeared where the torch had once been, the rallybot inspected what remained of his right arm. Energon leaked from the elbow stump but there was thankfully no signs of cosmic rust. The disease had not made it past his now destroyed forearm. Thank Primus, Smokescreen thought as he crawled away from the diseased severed appendage before he then laid back down in the sand, opening another comm line to the medics:

>>”Ratchet, First Aid, I managed to amputate my right forearm at the elbow joint with a laser torch before the rust spread any further. I'll be okay. Loosing energon rapidly, though....”<<

Australia - Uluru

Tailgate's optics game back online with a flutter. The vehicon projectile he so graciously defended to the chatterbot had collided with him and Bluestreaker faster than he could process what happened. Talk about irony... Tailgate's blue visor lit back up to fully functional status and he leaned up to assess the damage he took.

"Oh scrap..." The blue and white scout muttered as he gazed down his chassis to find that the vehicon that collided with the two Autobots had completely severed his legs off, right in the midst of his thighs. Energon began to pool up around the base of his wound. "Oh Scrap! OH SCRAP! OH SCRAP! OH SCRAP!"

In a panic, Tailgate tried to scuttle backwards from his impact site but found the task difficult without any legs to help propel him backwards. He rolled over onto his chest and gazed up, noticing Bluestreak stuck in the same situation as him and Blades checking up on his condition. Tailgate soon felt the grievances of his actions back aboard Magnus' trailer, his spark growing heavy and weary from guilt.

"B-Bluestreak...I'm so sorry... I just wanted to help them..." the minibot scout muttered under his vocalizer before dropping his faceplate into the sand in shame.



"WHOA! We just lost two guys up here!" Jazz hollered over the roar of combat. He gazed about to see if anyone else had taken a hit but found Chameleon still sitting atop of the trailer. Before the specialist could issue another thought outloud, Magnus swung his trailer around throwing Jazz's balance off and sending the black and white Porsche mech flailing backwards off the platform.

There wasn't enough space to prepare himself for the impact and Jazz landed in the sand with a loud thud. Jazz rose and scratched at the back of his processor which was beginning to ache from the fall.

"Ayy, easier on the turns next time Magnus." Jazz began as he walked up beside the trailer unit, "other than that I'd say you passed your driver's test." All jokes aside now, Jazz reclaimed his photon rifle and gazed to the top of Ayer's Rock where most of the forces were now focusing their fire.

And speaking of fire...

>>"Eyes up Autobots! The Fallen is heating up the battlefield with a few pillars of fire and death! Stay clear if you'd rather not get scorch marks in ya' armor!"<<