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Frontier Refinery – El Dorado, Kansas

Squatting down next to Sprints, Blades gave him a slight smile. “That's the way. Kicking aft is the best thing to do during a war, am I right? Of course I am.”

Even though Sprints' injuries were extensive and easily viewed, Blades conducted a thorough inspection on his body, searching for any other damaged areas that might have eluded him. It was vital to gather as much information as possible before he could help his comrade. He did wish First Aid were here, however; his knowledge in these particular situations would prove to be highly beneficial.

Blades continued to check for further damage. “Oh, I'm just dandy. Yes, sir, I am feeling great...”

Unbeknown to Sprints, he wasn't trying to come across as sarcastic. The Battlecharger incident had instilled a bitterness looming in his mood. Ridding himself of it was difficult, but that didn't mean his fellow Autobots had to endure his sour disposition. Fortunately the present matter administered a firm grasp on it, allowing him to focus more efficiently.

Satisfied his search yielded nothing more than what Blades had already seen, he gingerly rested a hand on Sprints' arm. “All right, let's get you out of here.” He slid his hands underneath his body. “We're not that far away from Hot Spot and the others, so I'm going to carry you there, okay? This, uh, may hurt a bit, but only just a bit. I promise.”

Blades carefully scooped up Sprints and ultimately performed a technique the other Protectobots frequently employed on the battlefield: a firemech's lift. With Sprints slung over his shoulder-plates, Blades began manually transporting the injured Autobot to where Hot Spot and the others would be doing battle with several large blazes. He traversed with caution, the ground before him crowded with wreckage of varying sizes.

As he trekked, he opened a comm-channel to Hot Spot. >>”Hot Spot, Blades here. Sorry for the wait; on the way there I found Sprints. Anyway, he's in bad shape, so I'm carrying him to where you are. Once I've done that, I'll be able to help you with those fires.”<<

Frontier Refinery- El Dorado, KS

Putting out fires was a common task with the Protectobots, and though the chemicals he had at his disposable couldn't directly take out any fires, the scout had learned a variety of ways to use them to help control and suppress such blazes. Groove circled around the perimeter of the Refinery and the fires, icing up the surrounding areas with his vaporator cannons as best he could to slow down their progress. As he dodged and weaved through broken pavement and abandoned vehicle, he had time to reflect on what had transpired.

All this destruction... All those human lives lost, and for what? It couldn't have just been for energon. Octane wasn't pumping any more fuel, they could have left without taking all those hostages before we even got here. Did they really need to hurt so many just to get our attention? Did they really need to do all this just to distract us? Maybe Hot Spot and Blades are right. Even without Megatron, maybe there is no changing them.

A sense of hopelessness started to sink in to the Protectobot scout as he completed his circle around the refinery. Seeing the area where he'd already sprayed, he transformed back to his robot mode and headed toward the middle of the refinery where Hot Spot was.

I just wish this war would end already.

Groove slowly walked through the inferno, trying as best he could to avoid falling, burning portions of the buildings. Going through the blaze he now used the corrosive liquids in his cannons, using them to disolve and break apart portions of the buildings that hadn't caught fire yet, removing some of the potential fuel.

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

Saferoute drove closer to the refinery, shooting lasers from her headlights at abandoned cars that got in her way. The pain from her legs had mostly subsided, but the damage was still there. The femme-bus went at a slow pace, though, carefully looking out if there were still any humans still alive. One a few rare occasion she saw charred or squished corpses, but otherwise there didn't seem to be any survivors. It was clear that if anyone was still in the area, they were probably dead.

Slagging Decepticons, always have to destroy anything in their way! I should have blown that fragger's cranial chamber when I had the chance, now he's probably up there laughing and bragging to his friends!

After a few minutes of driving and shooting debris, she made her way to Hot Spot who was fighting the fires, with a badly damaged Hex in stasis lock nearby.

"Primus, what happened to him!?" she exclaimed, "He needs to be bounced up right now!"

Frontier Refinery – El Dorado, Kansas

Finding a secure location in which Sprints could temporarily occupy, Blades carefully placed the Autobot down in the small clearing. It was far away enough to afford protection from the flames, but still close enough for him to keep sufficient surveillance on his comrade. Also, with little to no wreckage to contend with, an immediate rescue could be performed should anything disastrous transpire while he combated the blazes.

Blades swept the clearing with his gaze for the final time. Confident it was free from potential danger he nodded to himself. He then permitted his concentration movement, shifting it from Sprints to the destruction the Decepticons were responsible for.

“I have to help my team-mates try to put out those fires,” Blades said to Sprints. “Just sit tight for a bit. We'll be bouncing out of here before you know it.”

Jogging over to where Groove and Hot Spot were, Blades was bathed in the polished radiance of the flames. Plump tendrils of intense heat, of dazzling brightness lashed and probed the smoke clogged sky as if they were voracious beasts having caught scent of their favourite prey. He maintained a safe distance between himself and the blazes, aware that explosions could still leap at him at any moment.

Raising an arm to shield his face-plate from any objects that might be expelled from the raging flames, Blades stuck his other arm straight out in front of him. His actuator retreated into the wrist joint and a hose nozzle of sorts emerged in its position. A fire-fighting foam burst forth, quelling the blaze's furious activity and hopefully halting its advance. Minimising structural damage was his task now, and he was striving to achieve just that to the best of his ability, even though his fire fighting capabilities did not match Hot Spot's—and to a lesser degree Groove's.

Frontier Refinery- El Dorado, Kansas

Sprints didn't mind any of Blades' sarcasm, real or misperceived, since he was sardonic most of the time himself. It was also, Sprints had to admit, nice to talk to a fellow mech without the conversation devolving to threats or arguments. A little friendly banter can go a long way, huh.

"That's fine," Sprints replied as Blades warned him of pain. "I've been in worse scraps than this, believe me." Supposedly much worse, Sprints thought, except I can't remember that.

Sprints did what he could to make the lift easier for Blades, but he doubted he needed to, since he was so short and wiry compared to the Autobot. Still, he grimaced as Blades began to carry him back-- but only half due to the pain, which had begun to subside. Mostly, Sprints was embarassed. Being carried back to the others in a firemech's lift with his legs completely malfunctioning on him wasn't exactly how he had envisioned this fight ending when he'd asked Hot Spot to join up. Still, he wasn't complaining: even this beat boredom on the Guardian.

Sprints grimaced a little more as Blades set him down in an empty clearing. The pain wasn't much, but he wished he could help out more. On the other hand, what could you do? You're no good for fighting fires, your legs aren't working for whatever reason, you probably can't transform well, and you have almost no ammo in case of a few stray 'Cons.

Sprints looked at Blades as he left. "Leaving so soon, huh? Just when we were connecting!" Sprints smirked. "How's about you buy me dinner next time, eh? Get outta here, man. Didn't think you were a worrywort." He sighed and leaned back. "If anybody needs me, you know where to find me." Sprints then offlined his optics and decided to wait once more.

Frontier Refinery- El Dorado, Kansas

“Slaggit,” Hot Spot muttered to himself as Hex collapsed next to him. To say this mission had gone poorly was perhaps the understatement of the century. The Cons got clean away with hardly a casualty he noticed, along with plenty of fuel, while he and his own team had gotten severely battered in the process. On top of all of that there was the loss of human life and at the very least a disruption in the whole infiltration mission. He was not looking forward to explaining all of this to Prowl.

Tired of waiting for a reply from the Guardian he transformed back to robot mode. The fires were still burning but they had been effectively cut off from spreading any further. The locals should be able to put it out or, at the worst, it would burn itself out. “Alright, we have wounded and we’ve done all we can about this fire. Its time to get out of here.” The Protectobot leader sent a signal up to the ship itself, requesting a recall bounce. The vessel complied and all of the Autobots vanished in a beam of light.