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Australia – Not far from Shuttle Longevity

This simpleton was strong. In fact he actually took Darkride by surprise. Good show, good show. However, the proverbial ball was now in the Angel of Death’s court and he intended on playing through.

Darkride struggled. Wriggling trying to loosen Skywarp’s grip. Being covered in Veneer’s...poor sweet Veneer...energon and vital fluids made for a wet and slick dance.

Little by little he could feel the flier’s grip slipping. And while Darkride jerked and bucked and shifted Oil Slick moved ever closer.

The former interrogator caught his friend’s optics with a sinister grin plastered on his face. This would certainly be fun, if only he could get free…

And then an idea…a dirty idea popped into his demented little mind.

Quickly Darkride’s attention returned back to Skywarp. In an instant the slim slickened Herald bowed his head and bit down hard on Skywarp’s upper arm. The suddenness of the act gave Darkride the opportunity he needed. The warrior’s grip lightened making it possible for Darkride to remove one arm from Skywarp’s hold.

The Herald drew back said arm and sent a fast solid elbow to his captor’s temple. The blow sent Skywarp back and away from his prisoner. This provided Darkride with the means to slip away.

He could have made his escape, could have run back to his master, but the chance to confront his friend was just too enticing.

"Hold him!"

“Et tu, Oil Slick?” Darkride intoned, his voice sounding disappointed.

Darkride kept his arms at his palms facing up. “You come to me ready to take me down, to immediately remove me from the equation. For what, so that you would possibly have a small reprieve?” He raised a hand and wagged his finger from side to side in reprimand. “Tsk, tsk. You and I have spent time together. Quality time.” He took a bold step forward.

“You and I have played together…” he punctuated the “play” with air-quotes. “Taking on our designated roles. You would watch. You would record while I entertained, not only myself but you as well.” He smiled knowingly. “You always seemed to enjoy watching. Not saying a word, just observing.”

The Angel of Death rubbed at his chin as he recalled their shared past. “It irritated me that you refused to join in. It irritated me that you would not take me up on my offers,” he said wistfully. “You wanted to know what others felt, but what about you? Were you never curious to know how you would feel playing with me?"

“I had often wondered just how far you were willing to go.” He looked up to the sand engulfed sky. “I would sit and pray that today, today would be the day that you would hurt me. That you would make me scream in agony.” Darkride turned his optics back onto the chemist, a deep frown etched on his face.

“That was in the past. Now it will be you who shall scream. It will be you begging me to put you out of your misery.” Another step forward. Hands balled into tight fists. “Dear, dear Oil Slick. Today…today you will die a slow and agonizing death at my hands.” Darkride charged at the chemist aiming for his midsection. Maybe the impact would knock that syringe from his hand…even if it not it wouldn’t matter.

((OOC: Knocking Skywarp out was agreed upon by Smokey and myself))

Austrailia—Uluru
Chaos was everywhere. Seekers and Autobot jets shared the skies, phase-sixers and minibots stood (almost) together on the battlefield, whilst what could only be described as the ‘Endtimes’ flung aside all threats like they are paperweights. Had this been one of those Earth movies, he’d had definitely be cheering for the bad guy here - this Fallen guy certainly had style.

Psychout, small in stature but not in ambition, had checked in with the boss. He had spent centuries working for Shockwave in the past and, whilst his last mission had been cut short, he was confident that the work he did for the genius mech in the past would allow him to overlook whatever went wrong last time. It wasn't Shockwave who responded to his reappearance first though.

Landgrab wrote:>>"Psychout? Is that really you? Where the frag have you been?"<<

Well, at least there was one familiar face out here.

>>Landgrab? Wow, that’s a voice I never thought I’d be glad to hear. How did a mech like you get caught up in the battle like this? ...I wish I knew where I’d been, but judging by the remains of Crueljaw here, I think I got off lightly. Any chance you could fill me in on what this Fallen guy wants with us? I’m about to rejoin Shockwave and he’s not exactly known for his detailed plot exposition...<<

He assessed the inferno and glass-storm before him, surrounding the landmark colloquially known as Ayers Rock. The shards of superheated sand were refracting the light in all directions, making it near impossible to see what was going on. On a hunch, he unpacked his specialist sniper rifle and tried to see if he could take aim through the dust and get a good look at the creature at the centre of the Maelstrom. This thing had a range of well over a mile with near pin-point accuracy, but the glass-storm was predictably playing hell with his laser sighting – the first bit of glass it hit refracted it in all directions, creating – for an instant – a carnival lightshow that the old clubs of Terrahex would have partied down to when the war was still in its infancy... He was just beginning to formulate a plan to use this to his advantage when his orders finally came in.

Shockwave wrote:>>"Declarative: the current situation and operating procedures are significantly different than during your previous period of activation. Imperative: proceed."<<

Significantly different? That was an understatement, even for Shockwave. He could see the large purple mech purposefully striding towards the eye of the storm, and evaluated his transport options. As a Decepticon he was obviously flight-capable, but the skies were somewhat congested, and across land he was pitifully slow lacking an automotive altmode. He had long since given up on lamenting his lack of stature, but he never stopped being fed up at his lack of wheels.

>>Operative Psychout to Shockwave, orders received, I am heading to your positi... WHAT IN THE PIT IS THAT?!? *Ahem* Orders received, ETA 6.34 minutes.<<

His sudden outburst was his focus returning to the battlefield and the giant green behemoth that had just formed before his eyes. He literally could not tear his eyes away from this creature as a darker part of him briefly took over. "That is what you want. That is the power you should be harvesting, this battle means nothing in the long run."
He shook his head at the bizarre distraction, where did that come from?, and thought instead over the energon-fuelled arguments back on Cybertron that he and his esteemed colleague Mal Practice had spent discussing the fabled combiner technology and here it was, demonstrated in front of him. I have got to get me a close up of that thing, Mal will never forgive me if I don’t...

Wasting no more time, he decided to take the plunge, he needed to get to Shockwave as quickly as he could and took a running leap into the air. Staying low to stay safe, but unable to tear his enraptured optics off Devastator, he threw himself towards Shockwave's position as fast he could.

((OOC: I'll be playing Trailbreaker for a bit so that things can move along))


Uluru – South of Ayer’s Rock

Since Trailbreaker’s shield was rendered disabled – at least for a short time – the defensive strategist had to make a move to avoid, not only the flying chunks of Vehicons, but also the blinding and glass-shard imbued sand.

The good-natured Autobot took cover in one of the trenches and took a moment to take stock of the situation. That was when his comm-line went off.

>>"Trailbreaker! I need you and your force field to get to my location ASAP! Blurr needs to be transported back to the Longevity before he expires!"<<

Trailbreaker leaned back heavily. He heaved a sigh. Ratchet needed him. Blurr needed him. The mechs here could take care of things without him.

>>”I’m on my way, Ratch!”<<

Taking a quick peek over the top of the trench Trailbreaker held a moment before he scaled over the wall, transformed and took off in Ratchet’s direction.

----------------------

Being one of the slower ‘Bots on the team made this difficult, but add on the sand, the sand storm and the flying debris, Trailbreaker was moving at a snail’s pace.

Thankfully the CMO was not far from his original starting point. 'Breaker silently thanked Primus for small favors.

He came to a stop and quickly transformed back to robot mode. He jogged the last few feet and stopped just behind, and to the right of Ratchet. Trailbreaker caught sight of Blurr and immediately made to approach.

He was stopped when Ratchet placed his arm across his chest.

“No. Stay back. At least for now.” Ratchet took a quick look at the specialist who nodded in response. At that same moment the CMO received Smokescreen’s response.

>>”Um, it’s been about four or five breems, Ratchet, maybe longer. I tried to get Breakdown to give Blurr a transfusion just to help out, but he wouldn’t do it. And I'm afraid that I don’t have enough power of my own left to make much of a difference."<<

Ratchet lowered his arm as he took a step closer toward the ailing Blurr. Five breems was too long. Worried that the doctor was going to do something that would put himself in harm’s way, Trailbreaker took hold of Ratchet’s wrist stopping his advance. “Doc. Don’t go and try to be a hero. We need you.”

Ratchet stared down at 'Breaker’s hand tightly gripping his wrist and then turned his optics back up looking the mech directly in the visor. “I need to get in as close as possible so I can evaluate his condition.” Ratchet pulled his wrist from Trailbreaker’s hold and stepped in even closer.

The doctor produced a handheld medical scanner and began performing long slow sweeps over Blurr’s body. He was close enough to get accurate readings but still far enough away to be safe.

As soon as the scan was complete Ratchet took a look. It seemed that the sand and other small particles were actually helping to seal off some of the leaking. But that didn’t mean Blurr was out of the woods. They still had to get him back to the Longevity.

“Alright. Listen Blurr. We’re going to move you back to the shuttle. Now, what I want you to do is stay calm and stay as motionless as possible.”

Ratchet paused a moment and looked to Trailbreaker who took a step forward. “I’ve got Trailbreaker here…” The CMO looked back down at the racer. “He’s going to use his force field to help get you out of here.”

‘Breaker stepped in a bit closer and smiled. “That’s right, buddy. Don’t you worry, I’m gonna take real good care of ya. Need ya to get back in racing shape…I wanna put some creds on yah to win.” He let out a light chuckle.

Ratchet patted the specialist on the shoulder and moved aside. 'Breaker swallowed hard hoping this would work…for Blurr’s sake. Hands raised Trailbreaker created a force field around the racer keeping it tight to contain the mech. Ratchet then transformed and opened the rear of his ambulance mode.

“Okay Trailbreaker, Smokescreen, load him up and let’s get moving.”

((OOC: After speaking with Ember, I will be taking control of the Fallen, along with Hot Rod, from this point forward. Please note that this is still Ember’s story. I am simply helping out.))

Australia - The Fallen’s Mind

The Fallen had expelled the one called Soundwave from his mind as easily as a flick of an actuator. The blue telepath would feel the repercussions of his invasive attempt and the mere thought of that pain filled the fiery demigod with such total delight. The rage he had felt when Soundwave had initially probed his mind was now gone as a slight smile creased his faceplate. It was rather comical really. Did this communications expert really think he wouldn’t be discovered? Did Hot Rod really think he could hide the Decepticon scum from the ancient Prime?

At least I tried. Hot Rod’s thoughts filled their shared psyche.

And you failed. You will always fail as will your Cybertronian brethren. Like you, they are filth that must be expunged to make way from my master.

Ah yes, I had forgotten. You are just a mere pet aren’t you? The Chaos Bringer’s personal lap dog as it were.

You dare insult me, child?! I am no pet! I am a Prime, one of the original thirteen! I am your kind’s destroyer. You are a disease and I am the cure!

You can’t destroy me, Fallen. You need me!

Don’t flatter yourself. You will face the same fate as your comrades soon enough. Until then you will suffer for your insolence!!

AAAAHHHHHHGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!! Hot Rod screamed within his own mind as pain and torture invaded deep into his very soul.

Ah, the sounds of sweet suffering. How exquisite.

Australia - Top of Ayers Rock

With Hot Rod taken care of for the time being, the Fallen was able to refocus on the Cybertronian filth that had made it beyond the fire tornadoes and massive sand storm to reach the top of Ayers Rock. Perhaps the fiery mech had slightly underestimated these creatures. They were persistent in their assaults even though they had already failed time and time again to penetrate the demigod’s shield. Regardless, they continued attacking, even using the same strategies that had already failed them before. Pathetic. Yes, there was that word again. Pathetic.

“You Cybertronians never cease to amaze me,” the Fallen chuckled as his attention turned to an approaching arrow that had been fired by a mere femme. Not fearing that it would make it through his shield, the demigod of legend raised and pointed his staff directly at the incoming projectile, slowing it to a stop. As the arrow hovered there in mid air, the Fallen leaned forward slightly to examine it. “Cosmic rust! How nice. I’m sure my herald of pestilence would appreciate something like this. Too bad he’s not here.”

Straightening his posture, the Fallen waved his staff, causing the arrow to rotate around 180 degrees until it was now pointed back at the one who fired it: Flamewar. “I believe this belongs to you, my dear.” With another wave of his staff, the Prime sent the cosmic rust laced arrow flying back towards the Decepticon femme. With any luck it would hit her, giving her a taste of her own poison. If not then perhaps it would strike another. It didn’t matter one way or another.

“Now, who’s next?” The Fallen asked as he looked around to the gathering of Cybertronian excrement that was now surrounding him. It did not take long for a response as Razorclaw fired several of his capsules filled with explosive gas. Erupting all around the demigod, the gas created a thick smoke cloud that was meant to hide their positions from the fiery mech. A laughter emerged from the possessed Hot Rod’s vocal processor at the sheer idiocy of it all. Still, it continued to make for good comedy.

“I don’t need to see you! Just give me your best shots, slag-heads!” The Fallen’s challenge was quickly accepted as Rampage and Tantrum opened fire while missiles and lasers rained down from Divebomb who circled overhead. Razorclaw then followed up his gas attack with a volley from his concussion cannons as Onslaught and Brawl both entered the fray with their own attacks. “Ha ha ha! Good! GOOD!! Give it to me! Give it all to me!!!” The Fallen raised his arms into the air as the multitude of strikes hit his personal shield, leaving him safe and sound within. The fire ladened Prime was enjoying himself immensely, almost too much if there was even such a thing.

Taking a deep intake of air, the Fallen began to grow tired of attacks from unseen forces. With another horizontal wave of his staff, the fiery demigod dispersed the gas cloud, sending it back towards the various Cybertronians on the top of the mountain. “There, much better. Gag on that....” The Fallen’s statement was cut short by the booming sound of another voice. Looking off to one side, the enflamed mech noticed a giant green behemoth towering within the sand storm. “Well, well, color me impressed. You disgusting cretans learned how to combine yourselves. Most excellent! The bigger you are the harder you will fall! Ha ha!”
_________

Before the fiery demigod could react any further to the arrival of Devastator, more bombs fell from the sky above, having been dropped this time by the seekers, Starscream and Thundercracker. Like before, the shield absorbed the attacks, keeping the Fallen safely inside. “You fools are your own worst enemies and the sad part is that you don’t even know it! Again, how pathetic!”

A series of flashes then drew the Fallen’s attention to an area approximately a quarter mile away. Six Autobots appeared from various bounce beams that had succeeded in getting them beyond the sand storm and fire vortexes. These wretched creatures were getting smarter, which was something that caused a sneer to form on the Fallen’s faceplate before it dissolved away into a wicked grin. “Ah, Ultra Magnus! Don’t be shy! Come on over and join the party! Bring your friends! I’ve got plenty of fun for all of you!!”

The approach of Roadblock from behind him had not gone unnoticed by the Fallen. The Decepticon warrior was simply of no concern to the demigod as nothing he could do would penetrate the shield any more than what had already been thrown at him. Then more firepower, this time from Sixshot, struck the invisible force field in a series of flashes that was more of an annoyance than a pretty display. “I grow very tired of this. Don’t you Cybertronians ever learn?! No, of course you don’t. You’re all too stubborn to learn!!”

A sense of actual dread then came over the Fallen as he received a call for help from Drag Strip before the communique went dead. The herald of pestilence had been brought down. Not only that but so had two of the other heralds, Hardhead and Hex! “No!” Hex was to be the vessel of the Chaos Bringer and now he was in the hands of the Cybertronian filth. Only Darkride remained active. Good ol’ Darkride, the former interrogator and torturer of souls. At least there was still him to serve the Prime of legend. “You creatures will pay dearly for your actions! And once I have eradicated you from existence I will take back my heralds and bring forth my master! You can’t stop me!! None of you can!!!”

As rage welled up inside the possessed body of Hot Rod, the Fallen took his staff and slammed in down into the ground, causing powerful tremors to shake the top of the mountain. Within astroseconds, cracks began to form in the sandstone surface which quickly expanded into deep fissures that radiated outward and through the crowd of Cybertronians that had gathered to attack the Fallen directly. "Dance for me, you cretins! Dance and fall into oblivion!" The quakes and fissures were confined to the top of Ayers Rock only and did not extend beyond that. However, the fiery demigod had different plans for those who still hid down below.

Approaching the edge of the mountain top, the Fallen gazed out over the surrounding desert terrain. The sand storm and fire tornadoes remained in tact, but that did not prevent the Prime from seeing his intended targets that scurried about like disgusting cyber-rats far beneath him. “Don’t worry yourselves down there! I haven’t forgotten you!! Instead of quakes and fissures, I have something very special for all of you to play with! Behold!” The Fallen bellowed, pausing as he raised his staff into the air. “My Rock Lords!!!”

Australia - Base and South of Ayers Rock

As the Fallen’s voice boomed out across the desert terrain, a series of large boulders broke away from and rolled down the side of Ayers Rock. Once at the bottom, these huge rocks of sandstone began to change shape, unfold and ultimately transform! Arms, legs, torsos and heads, the demigod’s self-proclaimed “Rock Lords” rose up and stood tall anywhere between forty and fifty feet in height. Some of these humanoid creatures held weapons such as clubs or spears or even axes, all made from the same sandstone as the rock lords, themselves. There were at least two dozen, perhaps more, of these soulless stone monsters who stood ready to attack as soon as the command from their master was given.

“Hear me my rock lords!” The Fallen’s voice came down from above as the sandstone monsters gazed back and up at their creator. “Attack the Cybertronians! Crush them! Destroy them all!!!” The order was given and the rock lords returned their attentions to those Autobots and Decepticons who were still down here waiting to be obliterated.

With a combined roar that resonated across the desert landscape, the rock lord army marched forward, some stomping their way through a squad of vehicons that still remained before setting their sights on the rest of the Cybertronian filth that infested this area. About four of the rock warriors made their way towards Devastator with the intent of bringing him down one segment at a time while the rest of the large stone creatures focused on the smaller mechs that could be more easily crushed under their rocky feet.

All the while, the Fallen’s laughter could be heard echoing down from the top of Uluru, an ominous sign of the doom that awaited all Cybertronians.

((OOC: Razorclaw, Sixshot and Prowl will be forthcoming.))

Australia – Skies

The sandstorm blew its gritty breath on Blades again, rapping against his side and causing him to sway. He cursed, in response to the wind's violent reactions. It was as if Blades were an unwelcome visitor in the storm's aerial domain, a threat to be repelled. Given the lack of visibility and the glass shards scratching and slicing his helicopter's plating, a pair of additional inconveniences he could do without, he was sure it was trying to shoo him away.

“If I get knocked around any more, I'll be the one needing help.” Another abrasive gust slapped him, rocking Blades. “Frag this wind!”

Were it a physical opponent, this sandstorm, he'd already have disembowelled the afthole with his rotors and booted its severed cranial unit about like a mecha-soccer ball. Simple as that.

Not the greatest thought to nurture at the moment since Blades's duties were to rescue, not to fight. But that didn't irk him. Why? Because he couldn't duke it out with the Fallen employing his trademark style: up close and personal, with his rotors clutched in his actuators as he slashed, chopped and stabbed his way to a messy victory.

Switching his gaze from Uluru's surroundings—as he had been combing the impromptu graveyard of the recently destroyed vehicons for injured Cybertronians—Blades noted a furious scene taking place atop Ayers Rock. The Predacons, a few Combaticons, the Seekers, Aerialbots and Sixshot were assaulting the Fallen, their amalgamated firepower dedicated to shattering the shield.

Missiles exploded and energy beams blazed, colouring the shield briefly with bright flashes, but apart from flickering, the shield held firm, unperturbed by the assault unleashed upon it. Blades could imagine just how amused the demi-god must be.

A colony of cyber-ants defending themselves against a voracious cyber-reptile, so insignificant and useless in the face of a creature equipped to consume its prey with ease.

Something entered the edge of Blades's vision. Something massive. Something green and purple, he still recognised through the haze of the storm. It loped towards Uluru, towards the Fallen, its gait measured and determined, advancing with the inexorable force of an avalanche.

Hovering in position, Blades turned to this something.

>>“PREPARE FOR DEVASTATION”<<

“Whoa.” Blades watched this enormous robot cross the battlefield. “Reminds me of the Constructicons, only... Well, slag. That's them, isn't—”

Before Blades could allocate further consideration to the giant Constructicon, another wonder was to be birthed. But one not in their favour.

Boulders suddenly plummeted down Uluru's side, tremendous spheres of rock crashing to the base of the sandstone formation. Boulders that moved, sprouted limbs, grew in size. Transformed. Into something humanoid, towering over the Autobots and Decepticons, and bearing crude weapons like clubs and spears.

Blades laughed, though the sound lacked mirth. As if they didn't have a lot to deal with currently.

He spoke over the Protectobot comm-link. >>“Hot Spot, Groove, Streetwise, are you seeing what I'm seeing? A huge Constructicon and...rock...monsters? No doubt these interesting creatures are more magic from our esteemed demi-god friend.”<< Blades paused. >>“Sir, do I have permission to engage these ugly suckers if they try and stop me from doing my job?”<<

Might as well ask. Not that he expected a “yes” or to pound a rocky delight into gravel in single combat, but confirmation that he could engage the monsters would make him a very happy mechanoid should he become entangled while he tended to the wounded.

Australia - Top of Ayers Rock

Razorclaw could not tell through the thick gas cloud that had surrounded the Fallen's position if any of his concussion blasts had actually made any kind of dent in the demigod’s powerful shield. It mattered little as the Predacon lord kept firing in the off chance that one of his hits would actually break through. The response from Divebomb was expected as was the one from Starscream, himself. The Seeker Commander had already taken control of the air forces, but he also exhibited the same distain for Razorclaw as before. Starscream clearly had little to no respect for the lion-former even though he conceded that the new Decepticon leader had won fair and square before adding “somewhat” to the end of that statement. The mechanical lion growled under his breath, choosing to give no reply to the self-proclaimed “king” of the skies.

“Remind me to shove Starscream’s cranium up his own aft plate once this Fallen business is over and done with,” Razorclaw said in a serious tone to Onslaught who was situated next to him. The Combaticon Commander had arrived moments before, giving the Predacon lord a nod before unleashing his own attack on the Fallen. Razorclaw returned his attention to the gas cloud, which was now suddenly heading in their general direction, having been dispersed by the Fallen, himself. Ducking down into the trench, the lion-former avoided direct contact with his own gas. Once the air was clear, the Predacon leader peaked back up over the edge to see the Fallen still standing there across the way without a mark, a scuff, or any damage whatsoever on him. The shield had held as their continued bombardment had zero affect on it.

This is not working, Razorclaw thought to himself as he ducked back down into the trench. Searching his databanks for a new strategy, it occurred to him what Soundwave had reported a short time ago. The communications expert had detected another presence within the Fallen’s mind before he had been expelled. That presence, such as it was, had to be the Autobot Hot Rod. After all, it was the cavalier’s body that the Fallen was using as a vessel, so it made sense that the only other presence in there would be him. If there was only a way to confirm that and then try and get through to him. Mmmmmm....

Wasting no more time, Razorclaw opened a comm channel to Prowl to voice his theory:

>>”Prowl, this is Supreme Commander Razorclaw. Soundwave has informed me that during his attempted invasion of the Fallen’s mind he briefly detected the presence of another being, possibly Hot Rod. We are making very little headway up here as the shield around this fiery slagger seems impenetrable. Can you confirm Hot Rod’s presence and try and get through to him? It may be our only chance to weaken the Fallen if that’s even possible at this point. You Autobots would have a better chance of making him hear you than a Decepticon. Do you concur?”<<

The lion-former’s attention was then drawn back to the Fallen as the Prime of legend became enraged by something. Razorclaw could not ascertain what exactly. All he knew was that this fiery mech had suddenly grown very angry and that was never a good thing especially for a being that possessed seemingly unlimited power. With the Fallen’s staff slamming into the ground, the top of Ayers Rock began to tremble violently as cracks formed outward from where the demigod stood. Those small cracks soon opened into larger fissures as they reached the assembled Cybertronians on the mountain top, one of which formed directly underneath Razorclaw’s position down in the trench.

“Everyone, move! Avoid the fissures at all costs!!!” Razorclaw shouted to anyone that could hear his warning. Unfortunately, it was too late for him as the crevice beneath him fully opened and the Predacon lord plummeted down into the darkness below. Latching his claws into the sides of the chasm, the mechanical lion stopped his sudden decent, having suffered minor scrapes and dents on the way down. “Aarrrghhh! Fraggit!!!” Curses now out of the way, Razorclaw began the steep climb back up to the surface while the mountain continued to shake all around him.
_________

Sixshot concentrated his fire directly at the Fallen even though he couldn’t see the fiery demigod at first. The gas cloud that surrounded him obscured his view but that soon changed as the enflamed Hot Rod dispelled the thick mist back at the ever growing crowd of Cybertronians. The phase sixer did nothing to try and avoid the gas as it was nothing more than a minor nuisance to him. Instead, his kept his focus and weapons trained on the Fallen’s position, hoping that his own power would be enough the finally break through that supernatural shield.

It wasn’t enough. In fact, all it did was enrage the Fallen further, causing him to slam his staff into the ground and create large fissures that expanded outward towards everyone. Sixshot did not wait for Razorclaw’s warning to evade the growing cracks. The sixchanger simply transformed into his jet-propelled laser pistol alt mode and rocked up into the sky, hovering over the summit of the mountain. From this vantage point, the STAG could see Devastator, a combined form of the Constructicons who might actually give the Fallen a run for his energon. Impressive, the STAG thought as he then noticed the fiery demigod’s newest creations: rock lords.

“Rock lords? Seriously? You couldn’t come up with a better name than that?!” Sixshot shouted down at the Fallen, who now stood closer to the edge of Ayers Rock. If the shield would not break then perhaps the sandstone just under the demigod would. Gliding out away from the rock formation, the sixchanger aimed his gun mode directly beneath the Fallen’s position. Sixshot then unleashed a torrent of blasts which quickly struck the cliff face causing a massive explosion that forced the Fallen to take several steps back from the edge. “Ha ha! Made you wobble you stupid slagger!!”

The Fallen cast his cruel gaze up at the phase sixer, a frown deeply etched across his faceplate. The demigod had already taken this Cybertronian out with a single punch a few breems ago and now he was back for seconds. Like the others he would never learn his lesson. Still, a new one would need to be taught to him, one that would send a clearer message. However, this time it would be more than a punch this sixchanger would receive. “Laugh at this, filth!!” The Fallen responded as he pointed his staff straight up at the flying laser pistol before unleashing a bolt of energy that struck Sixshot at the base of his alt mode’s gun handle.

“Aaaaarrrggghhh!!!!” The STAG screamed as the dark energy surged through his circuits, causing him to lose control and spiral down towards the side of Ayers Rock. Spinning around and around in his laser pistol alt mode, Sixshot could not get his bearings before he slammed hard into the cliff face. The phase sixer then began to tumble down the mountain side until he came to rest on a ledge that jutted out from the rock formation.

Australia - Cliff Face of Ayers Rock

Laying there motionless for a few astroseconds, Sixshot managed to finally transform his body back into robot mode. A deep intake of air filled his frame as the dark energies from the Fallen’s wrath continued to overload his circuitry. The STAG was down, but he was far from out. His body exhibited dents and scratches, but they were still very minor in comparison to what another mech would have sustained in a similar situation. His armature consisted of super-dense metals drawn from the compacted core of a collapsed star, an experimental technology to be sure but one that had served him well over the course of his existence. The spot where the Fallen’s blast had struck him in gun mode, however, revealed a small breach in his armored plating on his robot mode’s lower back, exposing some of his inner workings. The sixchanger did a double take at his HUD’s readings.

“Unbelievable,” Sixshot muttered in shock as he sat up on the elevated outcropping and leaned his back against the cliff face. Leave it to a powerful demigod to actually break through his armature. “He’ll pay for this. He’ll pay dearly!”

((OOC: More to come.))

Australia - South of Ayers Rock - Combat Trench

As Prowl patiently waited for whatever data both Jetfire and Nova Strike had to offer, he received a curious transmission over his private comm channel from the Decepticon seeker known at Bitstream. Apparently, this enemy flier did not want anyone else to hear what he had to say to the military strategist. Bitstream’s words were nothing Prowl did not already know. Once this battle with the Fallen was over, the Autobots would be outnumbered and facing great odds against the remaining ‘Con forces. The combiner and phase sixer were of most concern. However, according to this seeker, he could disable Sixshot and give his spark to the black and white in return for taking out Starscream. It was a tempting offer, but one that the police-former could not take seriously unless he had some guarantee that the information engineer would be successful on his end.

>>”So, you think you can disable a phase sixer, do you, Bitstream? That's pretty ambitious. Forgive me if I don’t immediately believe that you can fulfill a promise such as that considering the sixchanger is more than a match for the likes of you. I am not inclined to make any kind of move against Starscream, as much as I would love to, unless you are able to first deliver on your end. Therefore, if you can FIRST give me Sixshot’s spark then I’ll be happy to eliminate Starscream for you. Otherwise, no deal.”<<

Closing his secured private comm line, Prowl couldn’t help but let a slight smirk escape from his visage. This Bitstream really had no clue whom he was dealing with. The military strategist had already considered eliminating not just the head Decepticon commanders but ALL of those wretched ‘Cons, including Bitstream, once the Fallen was finally defeated. It was the whole reason he wanted Ultra Magnus to give the go ahead in regards to the City Commander’s final solution. Teleport the Fallen and all of the Decepticons into the nearest star, killing two cyber-hawks with one shot. It wouldn’t end the war, but it would be one large leap in that direction.

Bitstream can do whatever he wants, Prowl thought to himself. If he does somehow bring me Sixshot’s spark then I’ll be one step closer to my own phase sixer. The black and white was brought out of his musings by a new message from Jetfire. The scientist had transmitted the data he requested regarding Ironfist’s idea.

>>”Excellent, Jetfire. I have received the data. Thank you.”<<

Once downloaded to a datapad, Prowl began to examine the information as he waited for Nova Strike’s report on the Fallen’s shielding. Ironfist’s idea of using a gravitational lens to focus the Ark-22’s and Guardian’s weapons batteries into a concentrated beam of incredible energy had its merits. However, would it be enough against a demigod? Yes, most normal shields would easily be brought down by such a blast of pure energy, but the Fallen’s shield was clearly not normal.

It was Shockwave’s query that drew Prowl’s attention away from the datapad. The large purple ‘Con was an intimidating sight to most but not to the black and white, especially not in this situation. They were both logic driven mechs and Prowl knew all too well that working together might very well turn the tide of this conflict in their favor.

“What is my assessment?” Prowl repeated as Shockwave approached. “Well, thus far I find that our efficiency has been sourly lacking. While we’ve made some gains against the Fallen’s four heralds, we have done nothing to even scratch the shielding the surrounds the demigod, himself. Even Sixshot has been less then successful against this deity. Perhaps this Constructicon combiner will have more luck, but somehow I doubt it.” The military strategist paused for a moment, considering whether or not he should show Shockwave Ironfist’s idea. Under normal circumstances he would not, but again this was not a normal circumstance.

“One of my men came up with an idea to use a gravitational lens to focus our vessels’ ion batteries into one concentrated beam in order to break through the Fallen’s shields,” Prowl finally relented, handing Shockwave the datapad. “I was wondering if you’d take a look at the information and give me your assessment. Do you think it would have any chance of succeeding? Personally, I calculate only a 43% probability for success. However, that increases to 49% if we include the Thanatos into the equation. What say you?”

As he waited for Shockwave’s response, Prowl received yet another transmission, this time from the new Supreme Commander of the Decepticons, Razorclaw. Apparently, Soundwave was able to infiltrate the Fallen’s mind if only briefly where he detected the possible presence of Hot Rod. The Predacon lord was requesting confirmation and action on the Autobots’ end. However, before the military strategist could respond, the channel filled with static before going dead. The sound of the Fallen's voice boomed across the desert, saying something about rock lords.

“What the hell is that demi-fragger saying now?” Prowl muttered to himself as he peaked up over the edge of the trench. It was still very hard to see through the intense sand storm, but his sensors were picking up strange energy readings from the mountain top and numerous large, humanoid-like shapes moving towards his position.

"Well, it appears as though we're about to have company," Prowl said aloud as he ducked back down into the trench. His thoughts then returned to what Razorclaw had just told him. If Hot Rod’s mind was still intact, then perhaps that was the key to defeating the Fallen. Confirmation aside, Prowl wanted to know everything there was regarding the cavalier’s possessed and mutated body both inside and out. There was only one mech the analyst fully trusted who could do a proper scan with the details the black and white was looking for.

>>”Ratchet, this is Prowl. I just received a transmission from Razorclaw saying that Soundwave has sensed the possible presence of Hot Rod inside the Fallen’s mind. I need you to get as close to the rock formation as you can and do a complete scan of Hot Rod’s body. I want to know what exactly is going on inside him and also try and ascertain the power source of that shield he’s using. I want to know everything. As the humans would say, leave no stone unturned. Understood?”>>

((OOC: More to come.))

Australia - South of Ayers Rock

Smokescreen’s rage towards the Fallen fell on deaf audio receptors. The fiery demigod had either not heard his little tirade or was completely ignoring such an insignificant mech as the rallybot. It was for the best in all actuality. The last thing Smokey needed was for the possessed Hot Rod to cast his wrath onto him and the others nearby. Blurr was already in bad enough shape. Help for his condition certainly didn’t need to be delayed any further.

Of course, it was the blue speedster’s broken words over the comm line that had finally calmed Smokescreen down. The diversion expert looked over at his racing idol and cracked a slight smile. “Yes, we will get him, Blurr. Just hang in their, buddy.” The arrival of Trailbreaker had taken a little longer than anyone would have liked, but at least he was finally there and ready to help. After a few exchanges between the CMO and the defensive strategist, Blurr was ready to be transported back to the Longevity. With Trailbreaker’s force field enacted tightly around the former champion’s diseased body, Ratchet gave the okay to load him up into his ambulance alt mode.

“You got it, Ratchet!” Smokescreen declared as he quickly moved in close to Blurr, making sure to step around and over any remaining contaminated energon on the ground. Thankfully, most had been soaked up by the desert sand and was now below the surface with only a few small pools left behind. The sand storm had inadvertently helped by covering up some of the infected fuel, as well. “Take it easy there, Blurr. I’ve gotcha.”

The rallybot bent down and placed his left arm underneath both of Blurr’s legs and carefully raised him up. “Breaker, you’re going to have to use your shield more to lift his top half up. I’m sorta limited with only having one arm and all.” Thankfully, the force shield did most of the work, levitating Blurr’s body over the sandy ground while Smokey used his only arm to guide the blue racer into the back of Ratchet’s ambulance form. Once Blurr was securely inside, the diversion tactician took a step back and patted the white mech on his roof. “Okay, Ratchet. You’re good to go!”

Smokescreen then glanced over at Trailbreaker and gave the shield specialist an appreciative nod. With all of his focus on helping his comrades, the rallybot had not heard the Fallen’s voice booming over the battlefield a few moments ago. Nor had Smokey seen the creation of the so-called rock lords or heard their battle cry before they began marching through the sand storm towards anything with a Cybertronian pulse.

“ROOOOOAAAARRRRR!!!!!”

“What the frag was that?!” Smokescreen exclaimed, glancing over at Trailbreaker with a befuddled look before turning around to see a huge humanoid creature made of rock trudging through the sand in their direction. “Okay, I’m gonna rephrase the question. What the frag IS that?!!” Not waiting for an actual answer, the rallybot pulled out his electro disruptor rifle and began firing at the stone warrior. His shots seemed to bounce right off the rock monster, leaving mere chips in their wake.

“Okay, that’s not working,” Smokescreen said as he turned back towards the CMO. “Ratchet, you’d better get Blurr out of here now! We’ve got some kind of rock thing, beast, whatever the slag it is coming right at us! ‘Breaker and I will try and hold it off! Just go!” Smokey then returned his attention to the rock lord and aimed his shoulder-mounted rocket launchers directly at the creature. “These aren’t usually meant for something like you, but I’ve got little else to offer so you better go down!”

Wasting no further time, Smokescreen fired one of his missiles directly at the rock warrior. The projectile struck home, hitting the stone beast directly in its head, causing the cranium to explode into multiple fragments that rained down onto the desert floor around its feet. The headless rock lord then toppled over, landing on its back with a loud thud. “YES! I got it!” Smokey shouted, slapping Trailbreaker on the shoulder plate in celebration.

Unfortunately, the celebration was short lived as the remnants of the rock lord’s head began to quiver and roll towards one another on the ground. Within astroseconds, the pieces began to realign. “Um, ‘Breaker, I think we’re in trouble,” Smokescreen muttered as he watched in utter disbelief as the small fragments reformed into the stone warrior’s head which then, in turn, rolled back into position between the not-so-dead rock lord’s shoulders. Once it was whole again, the creature awakened with a renewed sense of purpose, picking itself up off the ground and standing tall over the its intended targets.

“You know, this Fallen guy is really REALLY starting to tick me off!” Smokescreen commented as he began to back away from the stone warrior as it started trudging towards them again. The rallybot considered using another rocket to slow it down, but his energon levels were already dangerously low which was made even worse by his missile launch. “Trailbreaker, try using your force field to keep it contained. We need to prevent it from getting to Ratchet and the shuttles,” Smokey suggested as he continued to back away, tugging on the defensive strategist’s arm in the process. It was then that the red and blue racer looked around and noticed the rest of the rock lord army marching across the battlefield in the distance. “Seriously?!?!”

Uluru – Longevity – Combat Casualty Care Unit

“Anything else I can do?"

First Aid took a slight step back away from the broken body on the surgical slab. He had stopped most of the bleeding. But the nurse was still a mess. There still remained a gaping hole in his back and his cranium…oh Primus what was he going to do with that?

The Protectobt’s thoughts were interrupted when Howlstrike spoke.

“Huh? Oh, no. No thank you Howl. But don’t wander off. That could very well change.” He mumbled the last bit as he reached for a clean rag.

The next step was to perform a few more scans and perhaps, if Vee remained stable enough, some internal repairs, starting with his head.

While First Aid continued his work he registered the sound of someone entering the unit. Blades and Bluestreak, the former of which made his way back out just as quickly as he had arrived, leaving the gunner to find a spot to settle down and wait.

“Hey, is that Veneer?!"

First Aid cringed slightly but continued his work.

“Dear Primus, what the slag happened to him!? Who did that? Was it the Fallen or one of his heralds? It was a herald, wasn't it? I only say that because I'm pretty sure the Fallen, himself, hasn't left the mountain top yet. But, frag, I barely recognized Veneer without his....head!! Gulp. Look, you guys just focus on him. I’ve got some internal bleeding over here, but I’ll be okay for the time being. It’s nothing too serious, certainly not as bad as what you’re currently dealing with. I’ll just sit here and wait my turn. I’ll be fine."

Good God why now?! The doctor rolled his shoulders as though the action would ward off anything more the chatterbot had to say. It didn’t work. He was about to say something when he was cut off.

“How about you shut the frag up while you’re at it? The doc's trying to concentrate and you’re giving me an audio ache!"

Aid smirked beneath his face mask. Howlstrike was intent on making sure Vee made it through this. For that the doctor was grateful.

As peace seemed to settle back in First Aid began his work anew. That is until…

“Wouldn’t surprise me if you were the one that did that to Veneer, stupid Predacon."

“What was that?!"

No. Not here. Not now.

“Nothing. I didn't say anything. Not a thing at all. Nope. Nada."

“See that it stays that way,"

And that was it. First Aid breathed a long sigh of relief. Perhaps now he could complete his work and get to those scans.

It was the sound of Blindside this time that caught First Aid’s attention.

"Bluestreak,”

First Aid slowly turned his head to look at Blindside.

“The next time I hear you say anything even slightly negative about Howlstrike..."

This was not good. And after Blindside’s final say he looked to Bluestreak hoping that that was the end of it. And of course it wasn’t, but at least…

It was probably the mumbling that finally got to First Aid.

“Alright that’s enough!” First Aid yelled out. His hand smashing on the portable tool cart. The sound of metal on metal and tools jostling around rang throughout the unit. His visor swept over all of the occupants pausing on each one.

“All of you just shut up! I am trying to save the life of my friend and I cannot do that with you three at one another’s throats!” His glare intensified. “I am not going to screw this up because you all wanted to have a petty little argument! I need to concen….”

His tirade was suddenly cut short when Veneer’s body began to convulse violently. Aid snapped into motion. He quickly moved to secure the nurse’s body so that he wouldn’t fall from the slab.

With his upper body sprawled across Vee’s chest, Aid motioned for the others. “I need someone to grab those straps,” he tilted his chin up motioning to their location, “and secure him to the slab so I can get some supplies! NOW!”

Australia--Uluru

>>Landgrab? Wow, that’s a voice I never thought I’d be glad to hear. How did a mech like you get caught up in the battle like this? ...I wish I knew where I’d been, but judging by the remains of Crueljaw here, I think I got off lightly. Any chance you could fill me in on what this Fallen guy wants with us? I’m about to rejoin Shockwave and he’s not exactly known for his detailed plot exposition...<<

Landgrab chuckled a little even despite the chaos. He was just as surprised as anyone that he had been called to battle, but that really only served to prove what a great threat they were facing. The new Decepticon leader Razorclaw was clearly utilizing every mech he had at his disposal, for better or worse.

>>"Hah! I don't even know. Razorclaw just ordered everyone to fight this foe, and I wasn't about to question orders. 'Course, when have I ever? Hahah."<<

Landgrab then paused, thinking at little more.

>>"Umm...I haven't seen or heard much. Some scuttle around the bounce chamber before we came down said he basically wants to wipe us all out. All of us. Bot and Con. Kinda weird since the Thirteen are Primes. And the primes are supposed to be good. Except for the one that...oh yeah, duh. Guess this is that bad one. So yeah, either he goes or we go."<<

Landgrab then stopped in his tracks. Large.....rock people suddenly transformed out of the natural elements of the planet itself.

"Ohh, wow. That's kinda cool," Landgrab said, in spite of himself.
___

Australia – South of Ayers Rock

Through whipping sands and burning tornadoes, Breakdown and Dead End had drug their prey through the volatile elements. He was still knocked out, so that saved them at least one headache, if not several. After what seemed like forever, Breakdown could make out the form of their thuggish commander in the distance.

His last comment had left the Stunticon somewhat puzzled. What was what? He hadn't seen anything strange and despite his curiosity, he dare not question what it was that Motormaster thought he saw.

That was until he too had got close enough. Then he saw what had got their commander's attention, trudging toward Ayer's Rock slowly. A GIANT Constructicon.

It was, quite literally for Breakdown, the most awesome thing he had ever seen in his life. And yet he also didn't want to get anywhere near it.

"Got him, boss!" Breakdown called, returning his attention to Motormaster. Whatever the Constructicons had found, for right now even that was still outweighed by the need to avoid another beating from his commander. "Me and Deads got him!"

The tremors caused by Devastator left the Stunticon momentarily unaware of the other threats emerging from the rocks.

Australia--Top of Ayers Rock

“Remind me to shove Starscream’s cranium up his own aft plate once this Fallen business is over and done with," Razorclaw said, clearly referring to some interaction he'd had with the Seeker Leader. Onslaught didn't really know what value aerial strikes would have in this battle, hence his preferring to get in the thick of it on the ground with Brawl as well as the other land-focused Predacons. But he well knew that Starscream would be a thorn in their collective sides for as long as he existed.

"It will be my distinct pleasure," Onslaught said back, grin still etched on his face-plated expression as he continued the assault on the Fallen.

“I don’t need to see you! Just give me your best shots, slag-heads! Ha ha ha! Good! GOOD!! Give it to me! Give it all to me!!!" the Fallen continued taunting, before launching a gas attack back at them. It seemed to have an effect on slowing the rate of fire of at least one of the Predacons, but not Onslaught. He had trained himself and his unit to continue the assault in the midst of a wide-range in atmospheric and elemental conditions. He still possessed the telemetry data he needed. The attack would continue until he could physically continue no more.

Whatever the ultimate effect, they were certainly no longer beneath the notice of the demi-god.

Underfoot, Onslaught's sensors began detecting seismic shifts in the terrain that were rapidly growing in intensity. Very rapidly.

"I think he's going to-!"

But before Onslaught could even adjust his positioning, one of the cracks tore right underneath the Combaticon, forcing him to drop his weapon and reach out with one hand to grab any kind of ledge.
___

Attack. Attack. Attack. Attack. It was the constant refrain in Tantrum's mind and he was relishing every second of it. Eventually something would crack. Something would break. Then the Predacons would really get a chance to smash this jumped up slaghead.

"You feelin' that, Tantrum?" Rampage had called out, even as they found themselves surrounded by gas.

"He's feelin' this."

Rampage had broken off his attack in the face of the gas attack and was attempting to get a better position. There was no way Tantrum would.

"No! I'm talking about the ground! It's like it's-gahhhhh!"

And then Rampage's signal had suddenly gone from being only a meter or two awayn to many meters. Tantrum felt the tremors too, but he'd move when he had to move. Except that time was suddenly now. The tremors soon turned into fissures, knocking the Predacon back and swallowing at least one of them up in the newly-made chasms.

Australia – South of Ayers Rock

Picking himself up from the ground, Runamuck groaned, rubbing his cranial unit. Then his midsection, his digits brushing the scorched mark Motormaster's cyclone rifle had left him with. Not a full powered blast, it turned out to be—as that would've torn Runamuck right open at such a close range and sucked like the Pit—but a low powered blast.

Luckily, it had been a low powered blast. Nobody wanted to be hit by a cyclone rifle's total wrath and sent travelling through the air because of it without having issued their consent first.

Unless you were a psycho looking for a thrill, then maybe that was more up your alley.

Truth be told, Runamuck was probably a solid candidate for the loony type and he did search for thrills when he could, but painful experiences weren't for him. Not receiving them, certainly. Not a chance. He would politely decline. No thank you, sir.

Anyway, he had scouting to do. The big fella's orders. Probably a smart idea to do that. To...scout stuff.

“Runabout!” Runamuck turned back to his brother, gesturing for him to follow. “Hey, 'Bout! C'mon! Let's do this.”

As the Battlecharger called to his brother, a deep growl, not so far different to that of a carnosaur that stalked the thick jungles of Sothrax, scraped past Runamuck's audio modules, clawing at him as much as the grainy wind did. He spun in its direction, his friction rifle thrust out in front of him.

Astroseconds ticked by. Nothing resolved through the storm.

Runamuck lowered his weapon a fraction, and rubbed his midsection—the nice, black scorched area. The granules and wind continued to dance together, an unremitting motion that was both graceful and strange.

A fresh growl came, closer this time. Louder, more sinister.

Then the growler showed itself, rushing straight at Runamuck, an axe in its hand.

Caught off guard, the Battlecharger nearly lost his footing as this rock-like creature rushed at him, drawing its arm back to take a swing. The fragger was massive, roughly Sixshot's height.

No. It was taller. As it ran towards Runamuck, it grew bigger and bigger.

He tightened his grip on his rifle. “Nah, screw this. I'm ain't fighting this freak by myself.”

Spinning on his heel, Runamuck half-ran, half-stumbled to Runabout and Motormaster. Kick aft as a group and win. That was the ticket.

“Look alive! We got company!”

Australia - Autobot Shuttle Longevity - Combat Casualty Unit

Howlstrike didn’t even flinch a single servo when First Aid finally got fed up with everyone’s bickering and starting yelling at all three of them. The former Predacon didn’t take it personally. He completely understood why the medic was so upset. Besides, it was all Bluestreak’s fault, anyway. His constant yammering and poorly veiled insults were enough to make anyone lose control. It had been a miracle that Howl had kept his cool as well as he did. It was a true testament as to how well Kup’s teachings and guidance had helped him over the many vorns.

Unfortunately, the tracker’s ability to remain mostly calm had not helped Veneer one bit as the Autobot nurse began experiencing violent convulsions. Unlike First Aid’s little outburst, this turn of events did startle Howlstrike, causing him to unfold his arms as the stoic features on his faceplate melted into a look of genuine concern. The doctor had wasted no time in throwing himself across Veneer’s chestplate, ordering the others to strap the nurse down before even more damage was done.

Sparing only a quick glance in the disabled tactician’s direction, Howlstrike leap into action, grabbing the various straps along the right side of the medical table and latching them into place. “Aid, I got ‘em. Go get those supplies!” The former Predacon said, as he held firm to Veneer’s right side. The wolf-former then turned his attention back to his new friend. “Come on, Blindside, get those straps secured on the left side of the berth and help me keep the nurse still. Move!”
_________

Bluestreak was more than a little startled by First Aid’s sudden outburst. Of course, he understood perfectly where the good doctor was coming from and why he reacted that way. If the gunner had to deal with two clearly violent prone mechs in the form of Howlstrike and Blindside, he’d likely go a little crazy, as well. Still, Blue couldn’t help but feel a bit responsible for the verbal altercations between himself and the other two. The chatterbot was about to apologize when Veneer’s body began to convulse violently on the table.

“Dear Primus...” Bluestreak began to say as he lifted his head up and turned towards the chaotic scene that had just erupted. The gunner wanted to help, but it appeared as though the former Predacon had already jumped into action with Blindside likely not far behind. There was really no room for the addition of another body over there and, besides, the black and silver mech would likely not be welcome at this point in time.

Instead, the chatterbot remained silent and said a silent prayer to Primus, hoping that Veneer would somehow pull through. It looked bad, very bad. The sight of the nurse’s prone form lying on that med berth reminded Bluestreak of all the dead and convulsing bodies had had seen in the aftermath of his home city’s destruction so long ago. Those painful memories began to flood back in, consuming the gunner in a wave of grief, sadness and ultimately anger. He couldn't avoid them any longer. All he could do was try and keep it together and hope for the best.

“Come on, Veneer, hang in there. Just...hang in there,” Bluestreak whispered quietly as a single tear of energon leaked from the crevice around his right optical lens and streaked down his cheek.

Ayers Rock

Nova Strike finalized the data packages. He did not relish the idea of sharing the data between Prowl and Shockwave. In fact it was more he did not relish the idea of including Shockwave in any plans of any significant venture, and only did so with the reluctance of direct orders from above. This was a joint operation, that meant Nova had little choice but to depend on one of the greatest minds in Cybertrons illustrious history to devise an appropriate counter to the power of the fallen Prime.

The Ranger broadened his data link between the two commanders and began the upload into the ether net. He made sure to register a copy of the data in his secondary computer core that was designed for intelligence gathering and future analysis. The upload only took a couple of micro seconds, a few ticks longer than he would have liked and only because of the innate Decepticon security frequencies that would have to be navigated in order to ensure the Autobot was not force installing a virus of some sort. Inwardly, Nova Strike regretted the fact he did not have the expertise to take advantage of this cooperation in such a manner.

"Data uploaded." He finally confirmed over the link. "Try not to use it to blow us up Prowl. I really don't want to spend more time than I have to dealing with the tool and dye doctor."

Ayers Rock: Skies Above

Slingshot pivoted to port as he raced to gain altitude. His wings were peppered with shards of glass after passing through the raging storm of sand and fire. Pocks and dents spotted his armor plates but did little to influence his over all performance... further evidence to the rest of the universe as to how great he truly was. The sharpshooter entered into an even tighter spiral as he finally reached the ten thousand foot marker on his altimeter.

Skydive and Fireflight fell into line behind Silverbolt and Starscream, in a maneuver that Slingshot was forced to reluctantly agree with. Silverbolt, while competent... though the ground supporter would never in a trillion giga cycles of the cosmos admit to, he was still no Screamer. In fact, even with all of the tensions between himself and the Decepticon Seekers, Slingshot still felt a kind of respect for their evil and often raunchy counterparts.

"Sure sure, I got a few sonic shells left... maybe a couple of explosives." Slingshot announced over his comm line as he fell into ranks at the rear of the formation with Air Raid as his wingman. "Air Raid and I are starting our bombing run now... Hey fearless leader, try not to get your aft burner blown off by your new beloved red and white. I really don't want to have to carry you back to the Ark again."

He left the quote hanging as he banked again and loaded all of his munitions into his mortars. The firing solution was marked towards the Fallen though this time the he adjusted the true target. He did not aim for the shield itself, but instead for a small crater just beyond the shield's registered boundary. "Oh Mister Fallen... Got a lovely delivery for you... Delivered express mail." Slingshot unleashed two explosive shells as soon as he finished his bank into a steep dive. The two shells would delve the blast crater deeper in time for the two concussion shells to excavate the crater below the shield and the two final sonic shells to bring the whole assembly down around the sentinel.

South of Ayer's Rock

Runabout was in the process of running towards the vortex his fellow Battlecharger had been thrown through when Runamuck came storming back the opposite direction. While neither he nor his partner could be considered the most brave of the Decepticon forces, Runabout could always be counted on to try and look out for his fellow groundpounder.

That being said, he was all primed and ready to make a joke at Runamuck's expense when the white Battlecharger came scrambling back into view.

"Hey, ferro-head! How was the trip?"

When Runamuck shouted and had scrambled back to himself and Motormaster, Runabout already had the massive X-Ray Cannon propped on his shoulder and primed to fire. Whatever was coming for them was gonna get a faceful of disagreement for picking on Runamuck.



Top of Ayer's Rock

Wipe-Out was good at a large range of things. 'Good' being the operative word there. Not, for instance, 'great' or 'exceptional'. One of the only things he was 'really good' was scouting, and that included being able to make split-second decisions that could greatly impede your health.

Such practice at these quick do or die responses helped keep Wipe-Out from falling into one of the opening fissures in the top of the rock he was still huddled behind near Flamewar with the Fallen threatening her with her own arrow. Oh slag...

When he saw Razorclaw and Onslaught, two of the most capable Decepticon Leaders in his estimation, drop into the group from his pseudo-hiding position, Wipe-Out realistically knew he should be beating the hastiest retreat he could manage...but his legs were already taking him further onto the rock. He sidestepped Flamewar, hoping his sudden movement may pull the attention of the Fallen away from her. If not, the handful of photon blasts he sent towards the powerful Prime may do the trick. He wanted to pause, and think about how stupid it was that he was trying to get the Fallen's attention as he transformed and zipped past the incoming gas. Maybe something past his fear knew the fight would go much poorer without good leadership, and that meant risking everything to let Flamewar get clear or help the sub-team leaders...but Wipe-Out didn't have time to analyze himself. Diving to a stop near Onslaught, the closer of the two to his position, Wipe-Out offered his hand to the larger Combaticon, "C'mon, sir! We gotta help Razorclaw!"


Near Ayer's Rock

Large hands dug into the dirt around the prone form of Tailgate, and gingerly hefted the mini-bot from the ground. Krunix looked down at the damaged Autobot, with a look on his face like something sour was stuck in the back of his throat. Autobot or not, he couldn't knowingly leave anything out in this fresh hell they had all discovered...but it didn't mean he had to be pleased about it. Flipping on his battered visor, Krunix began a low and slow flight back to the far reaches of the combined Cybertronian ranks, careful to keep the wounded Tailgate as still as possible. His gruff and unpleasant voice popped over the broad frequency used by both the Bots and the Cons.

This is Krunix. Autobot Medical Staff, where do you working on the wounded? One of yours was stupid enough to get himself beaten pretty badly.

South of Ayer's Rock

Chameleon had finally managed to catch up to Skids and Getaway...who almost ran into him as they moved away from their position, away from Astrotrain and Blitzwing. "Whoah! Hey guys! We gotta move, and find a good firing position!" Chameleon spared a moment to wave at the Decepticon Triple Changers, absolutely unaware of their current hostility, "Hey guys! Look, I don't want to be crass, but you two should probably try to find a better position than this one as well! Good luck!" he said, giving a thumbs up to the Cons.

Uluru – South of Ayers Rock

"Get your tow cables. We're taking him the old fashioned way. We're gonna drag him. Drag.Drag Strip. Hah. Hah."

Dead End rolled his head back and groaned at his fellow Stunticon’s attempt at being funny. They were all about to die and Breakdown had to manage sneaking a pun into this whole shebang.

“Breakdown, your Primus-awful attempt at humor is gonna make us all one with the Allspark long before this fallen angel of Primus decides to off us.” Transforming to his Porsche alt mode and latching his own tow cables to Drag Strip, the Stunticon warrior began to assist Breakdown in acquiring their target for their team leader. “I’m just unlucky your joke didn’t blow my sparks plugs or something, this ‘battle’ is growing rather stale…”

After travelling alongside the paranoid scout some ways South of where they picked up Drag Strip, the two located their leading officer, Motormaster, and dropped off their unconscious cargo. Breakdown wasted no time in stating the obvious to their sadistic leader, all the while Dead End’s sensor array began to light up with more blips than he had earlier accounted for.

“You don’t need my sensors to tell ya that there’s some-sorta unholy spawn towering off in the distance that way,” He stated aloud, uncaring if anyone was actually listening to his report or was still gawking at the sight of whatever the giant spectacle was, “Annnnnnd there’s a bout a few dozen new targets literally rising from the dirt all around us.”

The Stunticon warrior’s expression had not changed from his usual blank and dull expression as the Fallen’s newest creations began to come into his view. There was no doubt Breakdown was still shocked to see the Mega-Constructicon that he had not yet took notice of the Fallen-dubbed, “Rock Lords” .

“What a stupid name… Hey Breaks, got another lame-aft joke now?” Dead End dead-panly delivered as he loaded fresh ammo cartridge into the bottom side of his rifle.



((OOC: Will add on more after I catch up on some Z’s))

Uluru- The Forward Position

A god stood before him. Or at the very least, someone with such power that he seemed so from a typical Cybertronian's perspective.

What, then, was Nightweaver? A typical Cybertronian?

Not according to the Functionists, who believed his flying alt mode made him superior to the rank and file... even if all he did was ferry the messages of those ranked even higher.

Not according to the Decepticons, whose badge marked them as the strongest of Cybertronian society. Yet he'd never been confirmed as killing an Autobot; wounded, maybe killed, but without a witness to verify it was little more than empty boasting. And as Tantrum had demonstrated, Nightweaver wasn't much stronger than the average Vehicon.


But he was not ordinary. He would not be constrained by that expectation, no matter what history had demonstrated. So he kept walking towards the Fallen, blade drawn.

There was a sure way to demonstrate he was special. That he was strong. That he was worthy.

When Nightweaver slashed a god, that god would be cut.


-

Uluru- Flying Above High Command Staging Ground

>>”So, you think you can disable a phase sixer, do you, Bitstream?<<

Prowl had deduced his identity already? What did he even bother scrambling the communication for? How had the Autobot even known who he- right, he was the tactician. The closest thing the Autobots had to Shockwave. Bitstream's master plan (well, master plan redux) wasn't off to a promising start.

>>That's pretty ambitious. Forgive me if I don’t immediately believe that you can fulfill a promise such as that considering the sixchanger is more than a match for the likes of you. I am not inclined to make any kind of move against Starscream, as much as I would love to, unless you are able to first deliver on your end. Therefore, if you can FIRST give me Sixshot’s spark then I’ll be happy to eliminate Starscream for you. Otherwise, no deal."<<

He was at another crossroads now. Bitstream had already played his hand, and someone like Soundwave might already be deciding how best to use this bit of gossip against him in the future. But what Bitstream prepared to do now... well, he'd already come close to committing treason, what danger was there in sharing classified military information?

He continued to use the scrambler, and tried his best to sound braver than he felt. "All Phase Sixers are equipped with a killswitch. Sixshot has two means of being deactivated; manually or with a command code."

He'd already overstepped. There wasn't any reason to hold back... well, not from his Decepticon eavesdroppers, anyway. From Prowl he'd hide just enough the Autobot strategist would still need Bitstream's help.

"You can play this one of two ways: have me manually deactivate him by direct access to the brain module, or force Starscream to give you the code, since he'd already reprogrammed a new key phrase for deactivation."

And then Bitstream saw his opportunity.

"We both want Starscream- er, that is to say, we both want the Decepticon command structure undermined," Bitstream pressed. "You can accomplish both of our goals by getting the intel from Starscream when he joins you in your cozy bunker."

There was no point trying to appeal to anything but his intelligence and pragmatism. If nothing else, Bitstream could certainly relate to such qualities. Still, he had to put up a show of just enough force to pretend he could get by without Prowl's help.

"I don't care how you decide to play it; but if you want my help, you know how to get it," Bitstream concluded, keeping his voice as flat and level as possible. "Destroy a group of enemy Decepticons or let those Decepticons destroy you once you've outlived your usefulness. I suggest you decide soon."

Hoping it'd be the right mix of ration and posturing, Bitstream cut off the communication and collected a fallen Vehicon's pulse rifle, tossing it to a comrade in need of ammo.

-

Uluru- Way at the back of the battlement


Scrap this, I'm out of here!

Misfire had previously been discrete in his slowly marching away from the enemy. He'd been fortunate to not be noticed by his Decepticon comrades, lost in the shuffle of bodies. But once he'd reached the edge of the plateau he'd looked down and found a bunch of rock creatures attacking Decepticons on the ground level below. He immediately thought he'd head skyward.

He couldn't simply retreat or he'd be executed for cowardice under fire. There was still some slim chance of the Decepticons surviving the battle, and if the Autobots were the only survivors... which scenario was worse?

So he decided to fire at the rocks from a very, very safe distance.

Switching armaments, Misfire began bombarding the golems with his missile launchers...

...only to hit everything but the Fallen's minions, as ground was torn up and three Vehicon troopers were somehow all hit by a single warhead.

Lamenting his gross incompetence but fearing death by the DJD for desertion even more, Misfire kept shooting, hoping to Adaptus he might actually manage to hit something he was aiming for...

Summit of Ayers Rock

Ultra Magnus emerged from the brilliant flash of light and marched forward a pair of paces towards the ultimate summit and the ultimate villain he was destined to face. Cocooned inside a powerful shell of swirling energies that protected him from the oncoming fire from the foot of the rock below. There the twisted metal frame of the one Magnus had once and still called friend. Now a corrupted sculpture that housed Megatronus, the spirit of the Fallen Prime.

The skies above ripped open as the remains of the combined Cybertronian Air Force lanced through the swirling clouds of ash, fire and soot. Heavy ordinance pounded the region around the Fallen's position, kicking up rock and debris that peppered Magnus's apex armor. Starscream and Silverbolt followed suit with their own clusterbombs that carpeted much of the prime summit of the formation, though Magnus felt little would be gained by hitting the shield directly.

Still he hefted his warhammer up and took the handle into both hands. He adjusted the servos in his body in order to handle the shifts in weight as he uploaded his masterful skills with the weapon. From his rear he could hear the final checks on weapons being carried out by Scoop and the others, from Jazz to Springer to Sandstorm. Melee weapons would be drawn if necessary, except for his own personal case as he could wield both as he advanced.

The third second after materialization ticked away and the final runs of the Aerialbots and Seeker formations released their payloads. Slingshot's run was particularly strange, at least given what Magnus knew of the ground support specialist's excellent marksman abilities. There was no time to ponder what the flier was attempting to do. As the six shells lanced from the sharpshooter, Magnus drove his left foot into the crumpled sandstone and pushed off in a run as he raced towards the rear of the mythical incarnation of chaos' child.

As he neared the Fallen, Slingshot's shells slammed into the rock in front of the Fallen as Magnus raced towards the back. He lifted his hammer above his head at a forty five degree angle. As the rock cloud began to clear, Magnus brought his powerful hammer down in a stone shattering swing.

Australia – North of Ayers Rock

"I fear, old friend, that your ideal battle standards are becoming unattainable unless you found yourself back facing the likes of Fortress Maximus in the Kaon slums," Onslaught said, a smirk on his metallic features, though covered by a faceplate. "Don't worry, we won't remain beneath his notice indefinitely. Keep firing."

"What the frag are you yammering 'bout boss?!" Brawl found himself bellowing back at his commanding officer. He just wasn't getting Onslaught's reference. And it certainly wasn't the first time he was at loss with one of the quips by his far more perceptive teammates. In this particular case, his brain module just couldn't wrap itself around the idea of encountering Fortress Maximus in Kaon slums. And he certainly had spent a good deal of his life in said slums for various reasons.

"I can't even slaggin' remember seeing that huge oaf of a bot before the big fight had been going for some vorns already!" Brawl rumbled while unloading another massive barrage of firepower at the Fallen's shield, "What the slag he'd do in Kaon?!"

Onslaught however did not reply, instead he tried to voice out a warning. As did Razorclaw.

"I think he's going to-!"

"Everyone, move! Avoid the fissures at all costs!!!"

The warnings came too late, for Brawl lacked the reaction speed to clear away from the sudden cracks in the surface of Uluru opening under him. Even more so after the sudden shaking of the ground threw him off balance.

"*@&%!"



Ground quaked. Cracks turned into fissures. Razorclaw and Brawl disappeared from his sight while Onslaught fought to stay on top of the damned rock the Fallen had chosen to act as a stage for their battle. And Rampage and Tantrum? Headstrong wasn't quite sure but he had no visual of either fellow squad mates.

And Headstrong himself? He was hardly as quick on his feet as Razorclaw and Rampage but he had one advantage over them. He hadn't made it as close to Fallen's position as the others. Instead he was still standing on the edge of massive rock structure. If nothing else, it had given him time to react before the cracks reached him.

An Earthquake was not going to stop his attacks. He was more than some dumb animal that Thanatos' AI had chosen for his secondary mode for their mission on Earth. He was a Decepticon. And most Decepticons could fly in their robot form.

Headstrong was no different.

Ayers Rock – Amongst the Rubble



Warwolf followed his former teacher as she ascended the Cliffside, remaining to keep silent and vigilant as he partook in the same actions as she did. He could feel his primal side clawing at the bit to free itself from the so called “mental prison” he kept it in, though now was not the time to argue with it, he needed to keep focused on the task at hand. Any dispelled energy he used to contain it could possibly make it more mad, causing him to lose his hold on it and endangering his fellow Decepticons around him.

He kept low amongst the rocks while Flamewar had loaded up an bolt laced with Cosmic rust into her fusion crossbow. While he waited as the others began their assault, he could feel the grip on his swords tighten, the call to battle was nearly tearing him apart. But the former pirate had to keep himself from charging forward, the Fallen was practically a god after all. If he wanted to assist in anyway, charging forward and slashing his swords at him would be most ineffective. He returned both his blades into their scabbards and drew his Howler Cannon from behind him, locking the weapon upon his left forearm in a fashion reminiscent of their former leader, Megatron. While the combined forces of the Predacons and the Combaticons open fired upon the possessed chassis of Hot Rod, Warwolf joined in and unleashed a powerful barrage of laser fire from his arm-mounted weapon, his weapon living up to its name by producing a strange and howl-like noise at each shot left his barrel.

Once Flamewar had fired off her arrow, the Fallen quickly halted it in midflight and taunted at the attempt she made against him, only to turn the specialized bolt around in front of him and launching it back towards her.

Warwolf’s optical visor widened in shock as he watched the Fallen’s counterattack to the bolt. “GET DOWN!!” He snarled as the interrogator brushed his former teacher aside with a swipe from his cannon-arm, placing himself between the bolt and her. The bolt connected with the optical sensor located in the wolf head he used for a shoulder pauldron, though the powerful momentum from the Fallen’s return shot caused Warwolf to go sailing back along the rock formation a bit before he came to a rolling halt in the dirt. Mustering his strength to rise back up to a sitting position, the lupine interrogator stared into his new wound only to find the shaft of the arrow had broken off in his roll. Slowly oozing from his shoulder came the bronzy-orange particles of the plague-like chemical weapon Flamewar had injected into her bolt.

“Ah, slag…”



As the intense white light faded and their optics had adjusted to their new location, Jazz and Springer found themselves staring at the back end of a Decepticon holdout against the infamous, 13th Prime. Before either of them could adjust to their new surrounding and open fire upon the Fallen, the rock beneath them was beginning to shatter and crumble beneath their boots.

“Hey! Thought it was my job to shake things up on this mountain top!” Jazz commented as he struggled to gain a footing. “I didn’t even get a chance to lay down a bass line yet!”

“There’s still a chance for that, Jazz! C’mon, I got better things to do tonight than die!!” Springer replied as he leaped into the air and shifted to his still functional helicopter mode. “You’re good at improvising, I say let’s change the plan up a bit.” The green and yellow triplechanger lowered a rescue cable from his interior which Jazz wasted no time in grabbing hold of. The black and white counter intelligence officer then wrapped that cable around his waistline before Springer pulled back on some of the slack and hoisted him into the air.

“How’d you think he’d like something a little on the metal side of things?” Jazz asked as he produced two speaker-like devices from his shoulders and pointed them at the Fallen.

“You worry about the soundtrack, I’ll worry about avoiding whatever he throws at us!” A joyful smile etched itself on his faceplate as he shuffled through the expansive playlist Blaster has supplied him over the years before finally coming across a couple tracks he felt would be an effective foil to Magnus’ suggestion.

“Here goes something!” Jazz hollered out from beneath the green and yellow helicopter as he began to blast his Earth-based tunes from his two shoulder-mounted speakers.

((OOC: This is the song I had in mind to be playing))

>>”Springer to Sandstorm, I’m gonna take Jazz and hopefully try and get the focus off you guys for a while. Do what you can about towing anyone back into the fight if they slip off the rock, but keep up the pressure on the Fallen. Not gonna deny you the fight you’ve been craving.”<<



As Silverbolt lead his formation underneath the wingspan of Starscream’s seekers, he couldn’t help but stare up at the Seeker commander’s position. Not only was his bitter rivalry with the aerial forces of the Decepticons able to maintain a higher altitude, they had both squadrons release their entire payload upon the Fallen. A wasteful tactic in hindsight, but times were tough and it was the best they could have done in the situation.

"Sure sure, I got a few sonic shells left... maybe a couple of explosives."

>>”Good, don’t waste those just yet.”<< Silverbolt replied over the Aerialbots private comm. Channel, >>”Stick to using your mortar cannons for the time being. That goes for the rest of you guys, if you got any spare bombs or missles from that last run, don’t use them, stick to using your alternate form of weaponry.”<<

Following in his own words, Silverbolt revealed his electrostatic discharge rifle from beneath his nosecone and locked it into placed. As he zoomed over the battlefield, his scanners took notice of the increasing number of rock-based demons the Fallen was summoning. In a moment of quick thinking, he banked off from the formation and began to open fire on the so called “Rock Lords”.

>>”Aerialbots, let Screamer and his seekers deal with the Fallen, we’ve got to help the ground pounders deal with the Fallen’s latest trick! Provide aerial cover wherever is needed, GO!”<<

Silverbolt held his breath as he rocketed over the battlefield, fearing any one of these new treats was about to take a stab at him and cause him to go crashing into the soil below. Well then, he would just have to beat them to it first! Well… Not by necessarily crashing himself into the ground for them… Locking on to the nearest Rock Lord, the Aerialbot commander began opening fire on the one that was beginning to rise up from the ground around Chromedome and Axle’s position.

“LOOK OUUUUUUUUT!!!” Silverbolt cried as he shifted into his robot mode preflight and rocketed towards the Fallen’s minion, peppering the rock-based fiend with bolts from his rifle. Chromedome looked up from his seated position as the fiend lurked forward towards him, Axle, and the unconscious Hex. It shifted its gaze up to Silverbolt as his electrostatic rifle tore holes throughout its body. The mnemosurgeon hastily picked up his own laser pistol and fired upon the minion as well, relying once again on pure instinct. The crumbling monster struggled to figure who to attack as it was pounded with multiple forms of energy from both sides before succumbing to its demise at the hand, of rather foot of Silverbolt’s crashing boot into its chest cavity. The Aerialbot commander was then sent rolling in the dirt as the last of his momentum came to a grinding halt.

“What in the pit are these things?!?” Chromedome asked as he checked up on Silverbolt’s condition.

“Dunno,” Silverbolt replied as he rose from the dirt and dusted himself off, “Just something new to shoot at I suppose.” The white and crimson warrior shifted his gaze towards the approaching Devastator coming in from the Southwest of their position. “Though at this point, the Fallen and his rocks are the least of our worries.”

“Just focus on the task at hand,” Chromedome replied as he drew his second laser pistol, “We’ve already lost enough today because he let our guard down… You still good to fight?”

“Y-Yeah of course.” Silverbolt replied as he shook away his gaze on the Constructicon combiner and back to the mnemosurgeon. “We’ve got a few heading this way!” Silverbolt exclaimed as his focus shifted towards two more rock lords lurching towards their encampment.

“Keep them as far away from Axle as you can!” Chromedome barked as he opened fire upon the Fallen’s minions.



“RAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH” Belowed Devastator as he stomped his way towards Ayers Rock, the combined minds of all six of the Constructicons all processing the same thought; Kill the Fallen. Originally their task was to assist in the battle in any way they could, but once their minds formed into one collective procressor, only Devastation was on their mind.

Several of the rock lords came to attack Devastator at his legs, only to find their demise underneath the combiner’s massive shovel for a foot. It was like flicking androids, protoform’s play for Devastator. He bunted rock lords around, left and right, uncaring for wherever these fiends of the Fallen landed. Soon a massive wave of rock lords hellbent on bringing Devastator down swarmed the massive Constructicon, some even leaping onto various limbs and hammering away at him with their primitive clubs. Using the arm segment that was made up of Bonecrusher’s vehicle form, Devastator took swiped away at the leaping rock fiends, bringing his massive fist down upon the ground and into the oncoming wave.

“PUNY CREATURES!!” Roared the trembling mass of green and purple machinery as the primitive weapons of the rock-based minions permitted no significant damage to him. Ignoring the dull blows to his chassis, Devastator continued to lurch forward into the battle, making his presence far well known now.

Uluru--Skies

Starscream was still registering the Fallen's energies as being active. After everything he had done to give Razorclaw and those other slugs on the ground an opportunity to really capitalize on distraction, another bombing run seemed wasteful. Besides, he hadn't really dropped his entire payload of explosives. One always needed to have some surprises in reserve in case they found themselves backed into a corner.

The white, blue and red Seeker arced back around again, noticing that the Aerialbots had already broken off to deal with....with....

What the-

Starscream transformed in mid-air, dropping down to the ground effortlessly, some distance away from where it seemed like this planet had suddenly discovered its own transformational capabilities. Several of the other Seekers had followed suit and landed in various positions behind their leader.

Then Starscream turned.

And his mouth dropped open.

A Constructicon. No, a gestalt of Constructicons. He couldn't believe it. The little fraggers had finally done it! How long had the idea of combining Decepticons been one of Megatron's pet ideas??? And now....now, with him dead, it had finally happened. Hahahahahah. It was just too perfect.

Whatever happened today, the Decepticons were going to win or no one was. He could feel it!

Now he not only had a leash on one of the most powerful Decepticons in the empire, but he would soon have access to a gestalt! Clearly it was now time to rekindle some old friendships with Hook and Scrapper.

Well, after they had avoided not being exterminated and everything.

"Those Constructicons, Screams?" Thundercracker said, coming up beside the other Seeker.

"Yes they are. Look. There's Scrapper there. Mixmaster there. There's that whiny little wretch Scavenger. One devastating Constructicon now. And I will have it," Starscream said, before a pair of the rock creatures had noticed Starscream and his ilk just standing around and appeared to not be taking too kindly to that idea. They started to lumber in their direction, a fact which Starscream himself soon realized as his attention was finally pulled away from the massive Constructicon titan.

"Blast them!" Starscream cried, his voice growing higher and more shrill as he and the other Seekers began to unleash a torrent of automatic blaster fire from their arm rifles, chunks of rock spraying in all directions as they did so.

Australia – South of Ayers Rock

>>”Hey boss! Where are you? What's going on? Who are we supposed to be thrashing? What's the deal with the giant Constructicon, and where in Pit can we get one of those?!"<<

Was not the appearance of a gigantic Constructicon clearly more massive than the sum of its parts would suggest a big enough surprise? Did he really have to endure the reappearance of Wildrider as well? Not only had the idiot been gone for quite a while for no good reason, he appeared to be as clueless as one could be regarding the current situation. And Motormaster was not exactly feeling like explaining the situation to his most psychotic minion. For more often than not, explaining anything to Wildrider was waste of effort.

>>"Use your own damn sensors to track the rest of us or do I have to pluck them out of your tailpipe first?!"<< Motormaster bellowed into the comm-link, his own optics still fixated on the enormous mass that was Devastator on the horizon. >>"And what comes to our green hulking ally, do I slaggin' look like Scrapper and Hook to you?! Now shut up and get here!"<<

"Got him, boss! Me and Deads got him!"

Finally.

Drag Strip.

Breakdown and Dead End had certainly taken their time but the whole situation seemed to be far more complicated than he had originally thought it to be. How else it could have taken so long for the combined efforts of both Autobots and Decepticons to bring these 'heralds' down and under their mercy? Or rather, lack of mercy when it came to Motormaster. Drag Strip would suffer. Too bad the circumstances stopped the vicious leader of the Stunticons from laying his hands on his traitorous underling at this very moment. But later... oh, he was going to have a field day tormenting the former racer later. Naturally assuming they'd survive the Fallen first.

"Well well. Look what the cybercat dragged in." Motormaster smirked, smashing his foot against Drag Strip's knee joint, crushing it under the force. The action served two functions. It both satisfied his own sadistic tendencies as well as made sure that were Drag Strip to regain his consciousness - he was not going anywhere.

"What took you two so-" The question Motormaster had been about to present to Breakdown and Dead End was cut in mid sentence by frantic screaming by no other than the Battlecharger Runamuck whom he had sent off with his cyclone rifle only a klik or two prior.

“Look alive! We got company!"

Which was something that apparently made Dead End feel necessary to comment on it as well.

“You don’t need my sensors to tell ya that there’s some-sorta unholy spawn towering off in the distance that way, annnnnnd there’s a bout a few dozen new targets literally rising from the dirt all around us."

Dead End's morose statement aside, this was rich. Rock monsters? What? How or why the Fallen had done this escaped Motormaster's processing ability but it made him no less able to act when it was necessary.

"Shut the hell up and reduce them back into rubble!" Motormaster roared, firing a blast from his atom-smasher rifle at one of the incoming rock golems, shattering the lifeless rock creation into gravel. Keeping the combat ranged seemed like their best bet. While Motormaster himself had no doubts about not being able to hold his own against these rock men even close and personal, he could see them flattening both the Battlechargers and his own Stunticons up and close. "Keep your distance as long as possible and don't slaggin' enter melee if you can avoid it!"

Australia--South of Ayers Rock-Combat Trench

Shockwave dismissed Psychout's transmitted query out of hand: logic quickly provided an answer to what had caused the sudden exclamation and logic also dictated that his operative would quickly deduce what exactly it was. There more pressing matters were with the Autobots. The Constructicon gestalt would simply be another resource to tip the probability scale slightly further in their favor.

His attention was more focused on the series of transmissions from another Autobot warrior with the identifier of Nova Strike that Prowl had authorized to discuss tactics with the Military Operations Commander and the subsequent analyses that had thus far been collected on the Fallen's shielding. The garbled transmissions from earlier were relegated to a tertiary priority at best--their relevance was distinctly minimal until such time as the prospect of whether or not they would collectively survive this ordeal became more clear.

“What is my assessment? Well, thus far I find that our efficiency has been sourly lacking. While we’ve made some gains against the Fallen’s four heralds, we have done nothing to even scratch the shielding the surrounds the demigod, himself. Even Sixshot has been less then successful against this deity. Perhaps this Constructicon combiner will have more luck, but somehow I doubt it."

Thus far, the Decepticon strategist found no inherent flaws in the other mech's analysis. Gradually increased physical attacks were not showing any evidence of a corresponding decrease in the entity's own ability to repel said attacks. Conclusion--ineffective.

“One of my men came up with an idea to use a gravitational lens to focus our vessels’ ion batteries into one concentrated beam in order to break through the Fallen’s shields. I was wondering if you’d take a look at the information and give me your assessment. Do you think it would have any chance of succeeding? Personally, I calculate only a 43% probability for success. However, that increases to 49% if we include the Thanatos into the equation. What say you?"

Shockwave reached out and took possession of the datapad that Prowl had offered and began to process and analyze its contents along with the other packages that had been transmitted by Autobot Nova Strike.

It was not long before the situation dictated that they take additional cover, and when prowl moved to do so, Shockwave followed suit. The possibility existed that he would need to utilize his own formidable energy reserves in the form of his potent alternate mode, but the primary objective at present was the continued analysis of Prowl's battlefield data along with that which had been collected and transmitted thus far regarding the incapacitation of entity's corrupted lieutenants.

"Declarative: I have completed my analysis. I calculate a 41.9343% probability of success, a finding that corresponds with your own. Tactical data collected thus far suggests that while Ironfist's technology is sound, increased duration and amplification of assaults against the shielding will produce the same results that have been observed up to this point. Conclusion--a new tactic is required. Alternative data sources suggest that psychological breaks in the Fallen's secondaries provided the opening for a successful physical assault. It is my assessment that the same will be necessary with the demigod entity itself. Furthermore, given the choice of host, only an Autobot will be able to facilitate the break."

Shockwave paused.

"If Hot Rod is still functional, even if only on a subconscious level, reconnecting with him will be the statistically most probable means of providing our forces an opening to eliminate the entity. Our capital resources in orbit should be moved into position to facilitate swift execution utilizing the amplification technology where necessary."

Shockwave's choice of words was not accidental.
___

Australia--Top of Ayer's Rock

The Combaticon Commander glanced below him as he continued to struggle to find a solid grip that he could use to continue his advance. It was proving difficult. And below, well, Onslaught couldn't see where the drop ended and he did not want to find out. Given the Fallen's supernatural abilities, it was likely that he had opened a fissure directly into this planet's magma core. He had no desire to experience that firsthand.

Then, as the world seemed hellbent on swallowing him up, a beacon.

"C'mon, sir! We gotta help Razorclaw!" came a voice that he had not expected to hear anywhere near here. Wipeout? He expected a mech like that to be well away from the epicenter of the conflict, even if it was only to preserve less combat-driven mechanoids for a last-ditch assault. That was clearly not the case and, right now, Onslaught was grateful for that fact. He reached up and proceeded to use Wipeout as the anchor grip that he needed and finished pulling himself up and out of the chasm.

Onslaught could barely stabilize his traction controls as the terrain was still very much in flux.

"Where is he?!"
___

Australia--Skies

>>”Excellent, Jetfire. I have received the data. Thank you."<<

Good. One task taken care of successfully, Jetfire thought as he soared overhead in his aerial mode. The scans he was picking up from below were quite literally unbelievable: not only did the rocky terrain seem to be coming apart at the seams, but the Fallen's appeared to manifesting life--or some form of it--out of the native terrain. It was amazing data to record, but certainly not to experience directly.

>>"Glad to be of assistance, Prowl. I've little doubt that you have your hands full down there. Let me know if you require anything further. I will coordinate my efforts up here with Silverbolt in the interim."<<

Truthfully, he wanted to get a look at one of these new, living rock beings in a more up close and personal fashion but he also understood that might not be feasible right now.

>>"Jetfire to Silverbolt, I've joined our Autobot forces in the skies. I haven't found myself in a direct combat scenario outside a simulator in an embarrassingly long time, I'm afraid. I'm respectfully deferring to whatever you might need of me up here until I determine just how much psychological rust has accumulated."<<

Australia – South of Ayers Rock

“Hey, ferro-head! How was the trip?”

Ferro-head... Ha! Ferro-head... Yeah.

Though he ran back to the safety of his comrades, all limbs splaying in every direction like Runamuck was made out of elastic instead of metal and steel and alloys and metal and whatever, he fought to choke down the laughter that wanted to erupt from his vocaliser. Had he not been fitted with a mouth plate, his grin would be there, stretching from one audio module to the other. A harlequin's smile.

Ferro-head... Ha, ha, ha.

Running and grinning. With a rock dude hot on his trail, bent on eradicating him. From another's perspective, it was hard to say if Runamuck was distressed or having the time of his life.

But when Motormaster fired his rifle, which destroyed the rock dude chasing Runamuck, the Battlecharger realised that he should be thinking about trying to stay alive and not what Runabout had called him.

Once he reached the two Decepticons, he pointed his rifle at the nearest rock golem and opened fire.