- Motto: "The Blackest Night Falls from the skies,
The darkness grows as all light dies,
We crave your hearts and your Demise
by my Black Hand-- --The Dead shall rise!"
- Weapon: Sniper Rifle
Gifford Park National Park Team Midget Military base. Nightfall
After being unceremoniously dumped back into Crueljaws cab by the facsimile taxi-service Psychout took advantage of the tinted windows and reverted back to his robot mode, stretching himself out as he did so. He set the comms to include all 4 of the team. "Well, that's one problem solved. These meatmokeys have no idea of what happened here last time, despite the gigantic mechanical aliens trampling the area flat for 10 square miles. It would appear that whoever we have in the top brass covering this up really knows their job, or the locals have drank the Kool-Aid. There were a few files I still have to work on, but we have plenty of time for that later, but currently these shaved apes are to be considered 'clueless'."
He checked his internal chronometer, and the skies above, then cross referenced it with the shift schedule. It was now dark and the night watch has taken up their posts, they wouldn't be disturbed now. He open Crueljaws drivers door and jumped down to the ground, heading towards the aircraft hangars. If he thought he was small compared to Crueljaw, he was tiny next to the new arrival. Shockwaves humour always was subtle he chuckled.
"You can transform to robot modes now if you want, we're out of sight - but no lights!"
He walked towards his newest soldier on the way to the hangar. "Looks like you arrived just in time then Landgrab." Psych stopped and appraised the large platform. "You're well equipped, I like that. I assume you come with digging and hoisting rigs? Better hope you do, you've got 2 hours to drill us a nice new entrance here, the smallest you can make it so we can all fit inside - and 'Jaws has put on a few tonnes since the old days..." he pointed towards a section of rock Darkfire had identified as a potential entrance on her recon sweeps earlier "I doubt you've been dirtside before but it'll just be some weak carbon-based mineral or other and won't take long to drill. Get on it, and call me when you're done. Darkfire will enter first on point and Vindicator and Crueljaws will back her up and ensure nothing bad is waiting for us in there. Now get moving!"
Psych was on a roll now, he had just had a good few hours to formulate his strategy whilst playing cyber-tetris with the native computer technologies child-like encryption systems. He issued the next round of orders as he walked, keen to get everything done in the narrow window they had before dawn.
"Vindicator, you're the only person who has been here before. I need a schematic of the layout along with the rough location of the CR chambers, command bunkers and armouries and - most importantly - I need an alternate way out in case this place is pulled down on us again. Make sure Darkfire has a copy and then go and help Landgrab shift some rubble." Vin had stopped for a second, unnoticed by Psychout. The last time he had been here he had ended up with his head dipped in lava and he put a hand to his temple and remembered Mal Practice's experimental procedure to fix the damage. He did not want to go over that again, and didn't know if it was that or the makeshift repairs on his neurals but just couldn't quite recall the old layout. Still he had a few moments, if only he still had some of those drugs Mal gave Contemptor, Haxtl-something? He removed the triple grade Energon bottle from an arm cavity and took a swig, which seemed to help. A bit.
Unaware of Vindicators psychological crisis, Psychout moved on. "Darkfire, once Landgrab gets started, I have the first target for your Fleshling. An illegal weapons trader in the deep web is claiming to have discovered an 'alien ray gun' and trying to sell it on to the highest bidder. He is attracting too much attention. From the description its only a crappy mini-bot pistol which must have been lost in the battle here when Megatron collapsed the base. Send Kowalski to make this idiot disappear, retrieve the weapon and get the identity of the bidders - one of them is ours anyway but a most are not, anything on their tech levels that could haver been derived from Cybertronian needs recording. I've traced this guy to a private security compound about 60 miles from here. Brief him quickly though, you're on point when Landgrabs finished digging us an entrance."
Lastly he addressed his old ally, "Crueljaw, whilst they are busy getting us in, I've got something I want you to help me check out over here" as he continued towards the aircraft hangar...