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El Dorado Refinery - Gettin The Hell Outta Dodge

Runamuck slid to a halt off the frozen part of the road that he had hit. The battlecharger transformed and instantly snapped off a shot at Saferoute, trying to deflect her shot at Runabout before he made a run for cover. He shouted an obcenity at Groove and Blades as he dove into a roll before transforming into vehicle mode and thundering over to where his fallen brother was.

Runabout however had rolled to the side, the shot from Saferoute had hit into the asphalt, throwing chunks of mortar and dirt into the air. Runabout landed face first into the ground and struggled to stand, his hands pushing himself up to his knees as his energon was leaking all over the place. There was some lubricants and oil there too.

Oh this was going to be a long slagging day. Runamuck however had sparked off a few shots from his friction rifle as he ducked down behind the ruined cars next to Runabout.

"You know auto-pukes!" Runamuck shouted from cover. "...You have two choices right now!" Runamuck glanced down at his struggling brother "...You can stay here and pontificate over what to do with us, or you can let the entire oil refinery burn down and blow up, taking everything withing a two mile radius with it...hell it might even blow up the damned pipelines under the city if yoru not careful!" Runamuck patted Runabout on the shoulder as his Bounce notifier went off on his forearm computer.

"Come on bro.. we're outta here!" Runamuck said as a white shaft of light hit the pair of battlechargers and took them away from the oil refinery before it detonated completely....

Frontier Refinery – El Dorado, Kansas

The eager expression that had been etched on Hex’s face quickly vanished when Drag Strip, who he could have sworn was in stasis, brought up his gravito-gun and squeezed off one shot directed at the young mech’s chestplate. A perplexing look washed over Hex’s face as he looked directly into the former racer’s optics before he vanished in a brilliant flash of light. For a moment Hex believed that his spark had been transported to the Well of All Sparks, but the realization that he was alive manifested in the form of intense pain that moved from his chest to his back.

The silver mech let out a scream of agony as he felt his armor and most of his internals being ripped from his frame. However, the damage seemed to be localized, possibly due to the point blank range.

For some unknown reason the blast hadn’t hit his spark or his spark chamber. Hex dropped to the ground while bits of his outer structure fell with him. Finally, the effects of the former racer’s weapon began to wear off leaving him groaning in pain. A pool of oil mixed with energon and other vital fluids began to form under the mech. Carefully, Hex placed both hands in the slow growing collection of fluids and pushed himself up until he was finally on his feet.

He let out a groan as he reached down and placed his hand over the hole in his chest. It hadn’t taken long for his hand to become saturated in his own fluids. Hex slowly made his way to Hot Spot’s location where the Protectobot was attempting to put out the fires.
Hex stopped in front of Hot Spot and smiled.

“I got him. I finally go…got him.”

The youngling’s smile faded before he spoke again.

“Let Axle know…nothing’s changed.”

Hex’s optics finally off-lined and he collapsed to the ground in an unceremonious heap, his hand falling away from his chest to expose the gaping wound. The considerable loss of energon caused his non-vital systems to shut down and to divert what was left to his spark chamber. Emergency stasis had been initiated.

Outside the Refinery- El Dorado, Kansas

Groove felt a sense of relief as the Battlechargers disappeared in a beam of energy and light. The battle was finally over- but as Runamuck and Hot Spot's transmission pointed out, there was still work to do. Carefully the scout treaded across the icy road, approaching Saferoute.

"Are you all right?", Groove asked, concerned for the hurt transport, "Can you walk?"

---------

Saferoute felt ashamed as Runamuck pointed out the fires that she hadn't even noticed until now, since she had obsessed over avenging the dead humans instead of continuing her job of protecting any humans that may still be alive. As Groove got near her, she waved him away.

"I'm fine, I'm fine.", she replied, "I can barely walk, but I'm sure I can roll just fine. Just go ahead and put out those fires, lives are at risk!"

With effort Saferoute transformed. She had no trouble with her top half, but she could feel the pain as broken servos in her legs were forced to shift into position. It took her a few extra astroseconds, but she managed to convert to her bus mode, a few dents in her rear frame representing the damage she received. Fortunately she was able to drive without problems, and headed back to the refinery.

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

As much as Groove wanted to help Saferoute, he gave her some space when it was clear she didnt want any.

"Thank Primus it's over, Blades. But we've still got more work to do."

The scout transformed into his motorcycle mode, speeding past the Autobot bus quickly. As he got closer to the refinery he used his vaporator cannons to spray onto the surrounding buildings and structures.

<<Hot Spot, this is Groove. Blades, Saferoute and I are on our way. I'm spraying my freezing agents around the fires. It won't stop them, but it should slow down their progress.>>

Frontier Refinery – El Dorado, Kansas

“Yeah, yeah, thank Primus it's all over. It was a miracle nobody was hurt today, so I'm just as relieved as you are, Groove.” Blades kicked a larger piece of rubble. “Yeah, right. Whatever.”

Runabout was this close to being greeted by death, and Blades couldn't have been any more ecstatic. Saferoute's laser rifle stared at the Battlecharger, threatening to deliver the final shot. He anticipated a brutal ending: Runabout's cranial unit erupting with an intense flash, fragment after scorched fragment ejecting from the fiery explosion in all directions. It was going to be sweet, so very sweet.

But something terrible happened. A soft rumble was heard and it quickly ascended to an approaching roll of thunder, announcing Runamuck's presence. Somehow he managed to liberate Runabout, and the two were ever so conveniently removed from the conflict by an unexpected orbital bounce. Just like that. Taken away with such speed it took Blades a moment to realise what had occurred.

He chose not to speak again, certain negativity and an abundance of curse words would only spill out of his mouth. Engaging in an argument with Groove wasn't an intelligent move as there were now fires to combat. And sometimes Blades didn't know when to stop when an altercation developed between the two.

He launched into the air, transformed, and flew towards the raging blazes. On his way there, he encountered an Autobot signature displaying on his HUD. The green spot blinked gently, but otherwise seemed to be isolated. It struck Blades as rather odd, so he converged on the Autobot's position.

He descended, reverting to robot mode. A brief examination of the devastated surroundings revealed the fallen from of Sprints. His damaged body did not summon much comfort.

“Sprints!” Blades jogged over to the young Autobot. “What happened? Are you all right?”

Frontier Refinery- El Dorado, Kansas

Sprints was lying there when he heard the sound of an incoming helicopter. He hadn't been feeling sorry for himself-- quite the opposite: he'd been going back over his successes in the fight, the good hits he'd dealt and taken. But an approaching chopper wasn't good. It could be a 'Con, which would almost certainly spell the end for Sprints in his current state. It could be humans, which would blow whatever cover might be left after this battle. He onlined his optics, which he'd shut off to conserve energy.

Or, he reflected, it could be a friendly face for once.

Sprints didn't know much about the Autobot who was descending to him now. His name was... Blades, that was it. He was a chopper, yes, and, more importantly to Sprints, he loved a good fight.

Finally, someone he could connect to here.

"Blades, hey! 'What happened?' Same thing I'd assume you did, I kicked some aft!" Sprints tried to push himself up with his arms, but his shoulders gave out and his torso collapsed heavily. "Slag... If you mean, why am I on the ground, well, I got run over by a nutjob who then tried to make me a 'Botkebab before dropping a building on me. All in all, another day on the job, eh? I'm fine. But how's yourself?" Sprints grinned.

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.