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On Shore

The trek through the vile organic infested sludge the natives called “water” went far slower than Darkride could have wanted. As it was he already picked up trace amounts of microscopic organisms that inhabited the briny liquid and now their movements were stirring up the gritty sand that lined the bottom of the ocean floor.

He could already feel the effects as his joints were beginning to grind and stiffen. He was very lightly armored giving him an advantage in speed and dexterity but that also meant that more of his seams were exposed.

The interrogator released a guttural growl as he broke through the surface and trudged onto the shore where he stopped and shook hard. The water that had seeped into parts he never knew he even had was flung out and spattered over the sandy beach. He waited a moment before he took a quick look around to be sure they were still alone and then addressed the chemist who had followed close behind.

“Oh come now Oil Slick. I know you better than that. Underneath that tightly affixed dome and that intense stoic expression and demeanor there is a perverse longing to do what you have always wanted to do.”

Darkride stretched his hands out in front of him and shook the rest of the water from them. A grunt escaped his vocalizer before he went on…this time however it was about something off topic.

“I believe I need to do a bit of maintenance. That is a shame for after I am done I will just need to have a little alone time.”

A small sigh escaped just as he took a slide log glance over his shoulder at his comrade.

“Pardon. But as I was saying, you my good friend have a much darker side. You know that side that begs to see nothing but suffering. Secretly you want nothing more than to watch someone suffer. To see them cry out in agonizing pain…to hear them beg and plead for you to give them what they want…what they need.”

With his optics boring into the gangly form of the chemist Darkride turned fully around, clawed hands wringing together…a broad sadistic toothy smile spread over his face.

“I can give you that. It would only take a few breems. And I believe you would welcome the opportunity. I know because I have had the same thoughts myself.”

The interrogator pointed one clawed digit at Oil Slick and stepped closer.

“You want nothing more than to tear me apart. To rid yourself of me but you will not because you and I can still be of use to one another. So I offer a proposition…you get to release some of that killer frustration and I…well I finally get to hear those screams of pain.”

From his hip storage Darkride produced a small energon dagger. He had no intention of relinquishing his sword as there was no doubt that with the opportunity Oil Slick would just rid himself of the interrogator…no, the dagger would be perfect…release for the chemist and pain for the interrogator.

Darkride proffered the knife, handle first, blade in hand and without a smile.

“Take it Oil Slick. Primus knows it is what you want and the Unbringer knows it is what I need. I would do it myself but I believe it would mean so much more if it came from you.”

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Brawl had sought some appeasement to his need to bash someone's face in by joining whatever Swindle and Onslaught had been discussing about. He had heard only part of Swindle's plan and immediately decided he didn't like it. Which he had pretty much bellowed straight at Swindle's face too. Because he had disagreed and because he wanted to pick a fight. The situation however suddenly took turn to different direction as Onslaught ordered the Combaticons to stop Astrotrain and Blitzwing who apparently had decided to abandon them. That suited Brawl just fine. He had nothing personal against either triplechanger - Blitzwing in particular he had shared plenty of war stories with over a keg of cheap energon. However the thought of not taking the opportunity to fight when it was presented to him was completely alien to the Combaticon bruiser. The target being friend or foe mattered only through the amount of lethal force being used.

And that proved to be the key which allowed other Combaticons open fire before Brawl had a chance to do so. Heck, it even gave the triplechangers an opportunity to fire back. But orders were orders and they meant Brawl had to rotate his firing chambers to replace his normal ordnance with something less fatal. There was also the fact that his Electron blaster wasn't meant to be used underwater. He had to transform to make use of the rest of his arsenal. That didn't mean Brawl was going to be quiet about it. The frustration over missing time to be blasting at the triplechangers took form of ceaseless low growling until the explosives in his firing chamber had been replaced with stun grenades.

An immediate transformation into his tank form followed. As did the first blast being fired before his targeting computer finalized his firing solution. Nevertheless, the next couple of seconds saw a stun grenade being chugged at the position of triplechangers with another one following on its wake but this time, there actually was aiming involved.

>>”When shall we begin this work on Devastator Scrapper? We could begin it at any time, we have all been underwater long enough to validate the maintenance. Waiting for the base to complete may be ideal but with the political situation being so fluid having Devastator on our side would be a major asset.”<<

The question Hook had presented was a sound one. And one that did not really require any further consideration from Scrapper. >>"No reason to delay. We can and we will begin immediately. Let the other Decepticons settle their differences, we can do what needs to be done to solidify our own power base. I'll call for Scavenger. He has been in contact with this vile liquid the longest. No one will question us starting the maintenance with him."<<

Having had expressed his opinion to Hook, Scrapper had opened another comm-line to reach out Scavenger. The excavator, always ready to please, had wasted little time getting into the cavern where his two superiors were preparing maintenance setup.

"Ah, excellent, you have arrived just in time Scavenger." Scrapper said cheerfully and gestured Scavenger to take a seat on an examination chair he had finished just moments earlier. "Let me just connect you to this monitoring unit and Hook can get to work..."

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Vortex's optical visor flickered as the disagreements between Onslaught and the Triple Changers had begun to grow into an out of control inferno. Though he had not completely followed the discussion, as he had been more focused with the final installation of the combat simulation node near the primary exit of the what had been semi dubbed the Combaticon Hub. Still he had caught enough to know that Onslaught was not about to allow the Triple Changers to become an unknown quantity in this temporary civil skirmish of succession.

Variables were dangerous in complex flight plans, in power plays they were absolutely fatal. Vortex was among those who had witnessed Starscream's numerous attempts to rise to power, only to see some unknown twist of fate crash his ambition back down to Cybertron. The thought flickered a smirk in his processor, Screamer was his own worst enemy anyways. Cunning and intelligent, but always so full of himself that he made enemies well before he could make allies.

The interrogator had made it a life's mission to remain in the background, in the shadows gathering information or tormenting the rather unsuspecting Autobot. This was no exception. During the highest point of the discussion, Vortex stepped away from the partially connected simulation chair and exited the chamber. He entered into a quick dash towards the exit of the submerged structure. The icy cold of the water surged over exposed joints, Vortex made a note to have Hook or one of those blasted Constructicons address that flaw in these scrapping earth designs, causing his sprint to slow to a slog.

Once clear of the hatch, the Combaticon transformed into his helicopter form and allowed the buoyancy to take hold of his still rotors, lifting him off of the sea bottom and past a school of Yellow Tuna. He knew that should the conflict between Onslaught and the Triplechangers escalate, the triformers would attempt to make a run for the surface. And given their armor rating, Vortex doubted that anything short of lethal force would slow them by any significant amount.

Eventually his hunch was proven right as Blitzwing, and Astrotrain began a mad sprint through the airlock, laser bursts diffusing in the liquid as they ran. The two Decepticons began to make a slow ascent towards the surface, one hand in front of the other as they climbed the sheer cliffs of stone. It would appear that the Constructicons would have another task to be added to their already heavy workload, smoothing out the surface of the base entrance to prevent climbers from actual escaping pursuit.

Vortex's processor filed that away until later as Onslaught's secondary command to stop the Triple Changers overrode his initial observation protocols. Without a secondary thought, Vortex pivoted himself at neutral buoyancy and kick started his primary reinforced rotors. Almost immediately, with his secondary rotors twisted to provide stability and station keeping, the primary blades carved and churned the water into a powerful funnel. A burst of concentrated spinning water lanced down towards the sheer cliffs. The interrogator figured that even a direct hit would not kill the two multiformers, but at least he would slow them down, and maybe even get a few lucky hits in just to force these variables back in line.

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Onslaught would be damned if he was going to allow anyone, Decepticon or otherwise, to take potshots at his men. He didn't know what had suddenly got Blitzwing and Astrotrain all up in arms and he didn't care either. Vortex would get the reasons why out of them after they had been sufficiently incapacitated and taught a lesson about taking such brazenly disobedient actions.

Transforming, Onslaught leveled the first of his two mortar cannons in the range of where the two triple-changers were clearly attempting to escape. Adjusting his aim slightly over their current position, he fired.

As the ammunition in the other cannon locked in to place, the transmission from Razorclaw came through on his systems, forcing him to pause. Any transmission from Razorclaw clearly superceded an engagement like this one, even if Brawl and the others weren't likely to think so.

So Razorclaw had done what it was he needed to do. Onslaught was pleased about that, but he was definitely not pleased about having to remain behind at the construction site while all this was going down. The first thing he thought to do was make Blast-Off aware of the situation. But he knew he couldn't, not so long as Soundwave was aboard the Thanatos and his allegiance was decidedly not in their court.

Growling in obvious frustration, Onslaught fired off the second volley in the direction of the absconding triple-changers.
___

"Heh, good times," Astrotrain chuckled back at his fellow trip, continuing to fire at anything with a Decepticon symbol that looked as if it might try to stop them.

It wasn't long after that when Astrotrain's word seemed to explode around him. Explosions underneath, besides and overhead caused terran debris to suddenly cloud the water up beyond anything that his optics could navigate through. He switched to infrared so that he could at least maintain a visual on heat signatures. Pain rocketed through the left side of his lower torso and and he had to grab on to the surface again...but there was no surface to grab on to.

Falling for a few meters, Astrotrain eventually managed to grab hold of the cliff face once again and begin pulling himself up. He wasn't far from the surface. Just a little further....

With powerful steps, Astrotrain finally breached the surface of the beachhead and turned to fire downward in to the water a few more times to try and give Blitzwing additional cover. As soon as it had been freed of the water, the wound that Astrotrain had suffered below erupted in a gush of flame and various oils as they trickled down the side of his middle torso.

"What...a way...to go out, heh," the triple-changer chuckled, mostly to himself.
___

"Psychosis, is here, yes...Psychosis is new...Psychosis is the newest interrogator...Psychosis wants to know if you want to experience his methods?" the new Decepticon said, by way of introduction.

Mixmaster looked at the new addition to their ranks and smiled. His choice of words and the way he delivered them...he liked this guy already.

"Mixmaster at your service service service!" the Constructicon Chemical Engineer said, offering the new ally a mock-bow. Though it wasn't serious, it was also not patronizing. He was genuinely intrigued to encounter another Decepticon who looked like they might have a circuit or two loose but also was expected to carry out a very specialized function--just like he himself was.

"Interrogation? No. Lots of work to do. No time for interrogations. When those triple changers get brought back though," Mixmaster began, pointing in the direction of the battle. "You might get to interrogate them, hehehe."

The fact that there seemed to be a full-fledged battle going on had not escaped Mixmaster's notice. But it was clear on the other side, well away from where they were continuing work on the new fortress. And besides, Scrapper hadn't said anything about getting involved--so--he didn't. Simple as that.

On Shore

Oil Slick slowly emerged from the water, the liquid sliding off of him or beading on him thanks to the various seals and protectants he used on himself. They seemed to be holding up well to his prolonged exposure, but he was still going to have to conduct a full reapplication whenever he had the opportunity, just to be on the safe side. He listened without comment on how Darkride also mentioned the need for some maintenance due to the prolonged exposure to the liquid. With his vanity of appearance and lack of protection he would require something more thorough then what the chemist required.

He stared at his comrade in mild annoyance when he shifted to the subject back to him. The interrogator fancied himself some sort of psychological expert apparently as he went on about how he possessed a ‘dark, sadistic’ side. It was a common problem among Decepticons, assuming that others were just like them. It was exasperated by the number of more sadistic and violent individuals who seemed to proliferate the faction. There were very few Decepticons who understood his clinical detachment and scientific curiosity. The fact that his chemicals inflicted pain and harm was simply a side effect that he researched, and a benefit to the Decepticons.

The Depticon looked down at the proffered dagger in disdain. He looked back up at Darkride. “As I informed you before, I am not a prisoner you can so easily dissect mentally. The feelings you proscribe to me, if I possess them at all, are well contained and controlled by cold logic. I gain nothing of real use from assisting in your mutilation with your weapon.” He pushed the weapon aside.

“However if you must suffer some sort of physical harm or pain to satisfy your base urges,” he lifted his right arm, the sprayers on his wrist pointing at him. “I can provide a chemical solution. I would gain some modicum of knowledge from the exact effects it would have on you and you would get whatever pleasure you receive from such things. I do warn you however that the nature of chemicals means it won’t be a simple wound and would likely be…messy.”

*

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Swindle had been hoping the triplechangers would take his shots as sort of a warning and just stop. It wasn’t like his gyro gun was anything lethal, after all. That failed, in which case he had been assuming Brawl would jump in and open fire as well. It wasn’t like the other Combaticon to turn down the opportunity to fight after all. Unfortunately the stupid lunkhead was a little slow on the uptake today, leaving Swindle as the loan target for Astrotrain and Blitzwing’s return fire.

Letting out a bit of a yelp the Combaticon dived behind one of the defensive barricades they had erected around the construction site. He looked around to see Brawl finally joining the battle, and he was more then happy to let him soak up some of the shots from the triplechangers. Onslaught joined in the fray and Vortex came charging out from wherever the slag he had been to join in. It was like one bit happy Combaticon reunion. If he hadn’t sold off his optic lubricant ducts for a spare clip of ammo so many vorns ago he might have shed a tear at the sight.

Now with the triplechangers obviously outgunned it was time to unleash the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Yes, it was time to unleash his…negotiating power!

>>”Hey, Astrotrain, Blitzwing, I think we can all agree here that things aren’t looking so good for you. Heck, I was just firing a warning shot to get your attention and then you open up on me with the full arsenal. You should have known that would just piss off Brawl, and then Onslaught has to jump in to help him, and Vortex comes winging in and, well, you get stuck where you are now.

Now, the way I see it you’ve got a couple of choices. You could keep fighting back, in which case the numbers are going to catch up with you eventually. You could keep trying to get out of here, and one of you might even make it. Oh sure you’ll be banged up and have no where to go or refuel, but you’ll be out of here right?

Of course there is a third option. You guys stop with the fighting and just come back down here. I get it, you guys were bored right? Not liking all the grunt work and the building stuff? Totally agree with you. That slag is for Constructicons, am I right? You come back down here peacefully and we can all talk to Onslaught together. I’ll even talk on your behalf, and believe me that’s a plus. We can get this whole thing straightened out and no one ends up as scrap. Sound good?”<<

*

Hook merely nodded as Scrapper brought Scavenger over, playing along with the whole maintenance bit. Hopefully it would fool anyone listening in and, frankly, Scavenger as well. The idiot was high on the list of teammates who would spill the whole plan to everyone else. If he was kept in the dark about it then he couldn’t leak it to anyone else.

“Now hold still Scavenger, you have been exposed to the most of this vile liquid so your maintenance may take the longest.” In reality it might take the longest because he was the first. As professional and expert as Hook was this was the first time he would be conducting this particular operation. It would be a fascinating learning experience to say the least.

He opened up Scavenger’s chest cavity and went to work. The procedure would not be unlike one done to create a triplechanger, although much less radical. A new transformation would needed to be input into the transformation cog, which Scrapper could do from the computer console. That was the easy part. The trickier part was adjusting the internal connections and modifying systems to allow him to link up with the others and function as a part of a greater whole. Finally he would have to make some adjustments to his cerebral circuitry to make sure electrical impulses flowed smoothly and that the merging of minds was complete.

Honestly, and he hated to admit this even to himself, but he wasn’t sure exactly how it would all turn out. What would Devastator truly be like? He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement at it all. This was going to be his finest creation.

(OOC: Roddy and his group can start here.)


On Shore

The sadistic interrogator let out a low chuckle as he pulled the dagger back and placed it into his hip compartment. His comrade was so predictable. Then mech had no sense of adventure. He relied solely on study and research. The gathered intelligence of one of his experiments was what drove him. Darkride was actually surprised that the gangly creature hadn’t overloaded from so much excitement. The smaller mech let out a gruff grunt.

It was what occurred next that had Darkride nearly drop to his knees and laugh with unbridled glee. The promise of being hurt…of intense pain…was too tempting to pass up.

Darkride kept his composure…after all why give Oil Slick the satisfaction of knowing this is precisely what he hoped for. A smile would simply turn the chemist off and then would in turn remove the potential for delightful pain.

His expression remained neutral as he slowly sidled up to stand directly in front of his associate. With his optics locked with the taller mech’s, Darkride raised his left hand and gently took hold of Oil Slick’s right wrist. He held on for a few moments while his claws scraped lightly over the metal.

“Now I knew you had it in you, but let me pick the spot.”

Very slowly Darkride maneuvered his colleague’s arm down slightly until the sprayer was aimed directly between the interrogator’s optics. A deranged smirk finally grew stretching wide enough to bear the very tips of the mech’s sharpened teeth.

“You may not wish to admit it, Oil Slick, but you are just like the rest of us…possibly even more so.”
____

From their bounce landing location Rodimus and his small band of freedom fighters were able to move through the dense thicket that was surrounding their true intended location. It had been slow going but at least everyone kept quiet and moved as quickly as the land allowed.

The red and orange mech had been sure to set them all down several miles from the Decepticons’ location so as not to trigger any potential alarms that would most likely be on location. Although alarms and early warning systems were rendered moot through the power of his Master.

From a brush covered area just slightly from the shore line Rodimus came to a stop and waved the rest of his men to move back into the cover. He pulled back as well toward after several astroseconds and knelt down. Rodimus took a quick glance at each one of them and then quickly whispered his findings.

“Alright. I only saw two on shore, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any more looming around. Hex, you and Ricochet flank those two from the left. I’ll take Hardhead and move in from the right. Warpath, I want you to position yourself directly in front while, you, Saferoute, maneuver around and cover their rear.”

Rodimus took a quick glance around at those gathered around him. He then took a look over his shoulder at both Darkride and Oil Slick. He would be sure that his new heralds were removed from their oppressors’ hold as quickly as possible before the five of them made their escape.

Soon my children. Soon we will be together again. With our Master we will be whole once more.

Rodimus had quickly determined that neither mech had been alerted to their presence so he turned his attention back to his men. He cast Hex and Ricochet a curt nod sending them both off to their respective spot knowing all too well that Hex would play his part perfectly.

The young scout passed quickly through and around some of the more dense foliage as he moved swiftly to take up his place in order to claim his first kill.

“You wanna win this you best get the lead outta your fat aft.”

He intended the quip aimed toward Ricochet to be expelled in a low whisper but it turned out to be much louder. Hex stopped moving and took a knee when he heard one of the ‘Cons let out a snort.

“Slag.”
____

The smile that had materialized on the interrogator’s face faltered as Darkride heard something coming from the brush that lined the shoreline. He released Oil Slick’s wrist as he turned his head slowly to the left. He snorted as he magnified his optics’ visual input in order to see what he thought he heard.

“Oil Slick. I do believe we are being watched.”

On Shore

It was practically a miracle that Warpath had managed to keep quiet during the entire trek from the bounce location to their current position near the shore. For the crimson warrior it was practically torture, unable to brag about just what he was going to do to the Decepticons they encountered, not even so much as a little "BAM" or "POW". Fortunately the group came to a stop at the edge of cover. It looked like the sneaking part would end soon, and the action would begin.

For Saferoute the walk was almost as bad, but for different reasons. She had no trouble keeping quiet, but trying to keep up while making sure not to step on anything living was very difficult. As much as it pained her, she didn't bother any of the others when they weren't being careful. They had a job to do, after all, and if everything went right they would be saving millions, maybe even billions of innocent life on this planet.

They stood with the rest of the group and receieved Rodimus' instructions, to surround two Decepticons nearby.

We're all surrounding just these two? That sounds a little odd... well, I'm sure Rodimus must have a good reason., Saferoute thought to herself, He could have picked someone quicker to cover them from behind, though.

As soon as Rodimus sent Hex and Ricochet to flank from the left, Saferoute ran behind them.

So far so good, they haven't noticed us ye- oh slag!

As soon as she heard Hex's yell toward Ricochet, she knew it was too loud. As the young bot stopped and took a knee, Saferoute ran right past him.

"Idiot!", she scolded as she went by him.

Not bothering to even check if Oil Slick or Darkride had noticed any of them, Saferoute continued running. She was told to cover the rear, and by Primus she would cover the rear no matter how slow she was. Not quite in position yet, she pulled out her laser rifle and kept an eye on the two Decepticons.

Lucky for Warpath, his instructions were the easist- keep in front of them. That required the least amount of running, and the chance for the tank-former to see the look in their optics as he aimed his turret at them.

As the crimson warrior was going to walk out quietly, so as to not startle their targets, he heard Hex's little outburst as well. From his vantage point he could see Darkride looking over to where the other Autobots were running- their cover was blown. Warpath, however, was not disappointed; he was ecstatic.

"BLAM, it's about fraggin' time!", he shouted, "I never did like BANG, ZOOM, keepin' quiet!"

Warpath transformed into his tank mode, his treads slowly moving him closer toward the two Decepticons as he loaded the chamber of his cannon with a cryogenic shell.

"BANG, stay right where you are Decepti-bum!", Warpath hollered to the two as he fired his freezing ammo at Darkride, "Or better yet, FREEZE! HA HA HA HA HA!"

On Shore

Ever since the bounce beam had set them all down several miles from their destination, Ricochet had been intently focused on the task ahead. His rifle was drawn and gripped in both hands, ready for action against the enemy at a moment’s notice. He followed Rodimus as the self-proclaimed Prime lead the group towards the shoreline where the marksman hoped his skills as the best gunner around would come into play with more targets to choose from then he had time to count. Unfortunately, once they reached the edge of the brush, only two Decepticons could be seen on the beach, itself.

Seriously, that’s it? Ricochet questioned inwardly as both hands held onto his weapon tighter in an obvious display of frustration. We came all this way for only two ‘Cons? Good work, Howlstrike. You found a couple of scraps left behind. Nothing more. Rodimus then pointed out that there was likely more enemy soldiers in the surrounding area, but that gave the black and gold mech little comfort as his shooting prowess was useless if he could not see his intended targets. The flame-covered squad leader then gave out his orders, directing everyone to surround the enemy’s position on the shore, with Ricochet and Hex taking the left flank.

Once the go ahead nod from Rodimus was given, the marksman wasted no time in following after Hex, who was already off and running....at the mouthpiece again. “I’ll show you some lead, all right, from my foot going up your aft section! Now, keep quiet you moron, or you’ll give our position away!” Unfortunately, it was too late for that as Hex’s big mouth had already attracted the attention of the interrogator known as Darkride.

Noticing a large sand dune situated nearby, Ricochet quickly ran over to it. He then climbed to the very top where he laid down on his chestplate and took careful aim with his plasma dart rifle. With Warpath already opening fire from the front, the marksman could only hope that there would be anything left to shoot at. That clunky tank-former needs to stay out of the way and let me do my job. If he really thinks he can hit anything with that oversized cannon, he’s sorely mistaken.

Not wanting to wait for the outcome of Warpath’s attack, Ricochet lined up Darkride in his sights and pulled the trigger, sending a carefully aimed barrage of plasma darts in the interrogator’s direction. See ya in the Afterspark, you freakish excuse for a ‘Con!
_________

To Hardhead this mission was not about defeating the Decepticons and ending the war. It was simply about rescuing Rodimus’ remaining two heralds from their pathetic lives as these worthless Cybertronians, thus allowing them to become something far greater than anything they could have possibly imagined before. Standing near the edge of the thicket, the war veteran could see one of those heralds in plain view on the beach. It was only a matter of time before the master released him from his current existence as a filthy ‘Con.

Watching as the others began their assault, Hardhead chuckled under his breath and cast a knowing glance over at Rodimus. Everything was finally coming along according to plan and these foolish Autobots were playing right into it like a bunch of stupid protoforms that were fresh out of the mold. “We should make our move, Master,” the green warrior suggested, pulling out his pair of shatterblasters and holding them up. “I’ll keep the other one pinned down while you move in to your chosen herald and my future brethren.”

With his words spoken at a whispered level, Hardhead grinned from one audio receptor to the other before passing through the thicket and running out across the beach, taking the right flank as Rodimus had instructed. Once in position, he knelt down in the sand and aimed both of his shatterblasters directly at the Decepticon chemist. The gangly mech was the unlucky one in this scenario, and he needed to be either contained or eliminated all together. It didn’t really matter which way he was dealt with as all Cybertronians would eventually meet their end once the Master was reunited with his children.

Hardhead then opened fire on Oil Slick with both of his hand-held weapons. One line of diamond-hard shards was aimed at the chemical expert’s legs while the other series of projectiles was flying directly at the clear dome that covered the Decepticon’s cranial unit. The green herald wanted to see Slick dance and maybe even watch as his head gear was finally cracked and broken, exposing the chemist’s precious visage to the surrounding elements.

On Shore

The cover Hex had chosen was close to Ricochet’s own and directly across from the gunner. The young scout was able to keep an eye on him and his unbeknownst brother. Although he had to keep the Decepticon safe he was not at liberty of making the act obvious. Engaging in a hand to hand fight would be the best way to ensure that he remained unharmed. The action would also make it possible for his Master to arrive and welcome his brother into their conclave.

His mind set Hex stored his crossbow and vaulted over his cover taking care to keep in the way of all the other ‘Bots’ views. Their pathetic code would keep them from firing at the enemy with one of their own in the line of fire.
___

He used the hand he had placed on Oil Slick’s chest to shove hard against the chemist pushing him away and giving Darkride the momentum to jump back and following through with a series of back flips. He felt the cutting breeze of both cryogenic shells as the artillery pasted beneath his bent back. At the same time he landed the interrogator dropped into a crouch just as the barrage of plasma darts fired by Ricochet shot by overhead. He could feel the warmth of the ammo as it traveled only inches above the crests that adorned his head.

Darkride let out a deep growl as he took a glance over his shoulder and spotted the location the darts had originated from. He could just make out the barrel of the weapon and the flashing hue of black and wisps gold. The dark purple mech rose to his full height and brought out his shrapnel rifle taking careful aim in Ricochet’s direction. It was then that he realized Warpath had not taken another pot shot at him.

Darkride lowered his weapon when he finally spotted the small form running at him. Why had he not seen him before? He must be the reason that dimwitted tank had not fired again.

He cocked his head slightly as the mech finally came into view. Darkride’s jaw dropped slightly but quickly jerked shut…his face twisting in rage.

“YOU!”

Hex made no attempt to slow his progress when he noticed that Darkride realized exactly who he was. It had been a long time and he knew this mech would want nothing more than to finish what he had started vorns ago on Cybertron.

“Me.”

Darkride let out a feral scream and charged after the young ‘Bot clawed hands outstretched ready to tear into Hex’s chestplate so he could get to his spark.

Hex sidestepped and easily avoided the sadistic mech’s first erratic attack. Darkride quickly recovered and attempted to compose himself.

“I should have killed you along with your little teammates. Although, I must admit I rather enjoyed watching you try to drag yourself away from me after I severed your spinal column.”

Hex flashed him a cocky smirk while he and his opponent began to circle one another.

“I’ll never forget your face when that shuttle arrived and you hauled aft with your tail between your legs!”

Darkride ground his teeth as he growled out a rather profane Cybertronian curse. The brat was just as irritating as he had been all those years ago. Before Darkride could counter Hex let out a rather interesting statement.

“And I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on your face after this…”
____

Rodimus watched with a sense of deranged glee as he took in the action taking place. The extras were performing superbly and if things went according to plan they would all be dead in just a few hours. The Prime chuckled lowly as the youngest of his heralds pulled away from his cover and used himself as a buffer between the Autobots and his target. Such a smart child.

The yellow crest that adorned Rodimus’ red head moved up and down in a slight nod as a response to his warrior herald’s suggestion. He needed to make it across the field to his target and Hardhead’s deliberate distraction would cover his movements though roughly.

Once Hardhead had moved out and opened fire on the Decepticon chemist, Rodimus rose from his secure location and sprinted into a full run in the direction of Hex and Darkride. The young mech had used their prior encounter on Cybertron as a distraction. Very smart indeed.
____

The statement Hex had uttered to him had Darkride looking at the youngling with a confused questioning glare. He had just enough time to follow the scout’s optics to over his shoulder before Rodimus was on top of him.

A nearly ear piercing howl filled the air as Rodimus grabbed a hold of Darkride from behind…the dark purple Decepticon’s arms flailing almost wildly above his head. He kept his struggles up trying desperately to break the Prime’s vice like grip but the actions only forced Rodimus to tighten his hold.

“AGH! Get your filth ridden hands off of me!”

Another howl traveled through the air as Rodimus’ hold solidified and he began to drag the unfortunate mech toward a much more suitable and secluded location. Darkride dug his heals into the sand in an attempt to slow their progress but it was all for naught as what once was a barren shore turned into a thickly covered wooded area.

Hex watched on while his Master dragged the struggling mech into the thicket and disappeared from sight. It would not be long before a new herald would be joining them. He took a glance over his shoulder in the direction of the other Autobots. A wicked smirk formed on his face as Darkride’s pain filled screech traveled out from the tree line and over the length of the beach.

One herald remained. One brother.

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Well. If Blitzwing had presumed freedom to be within his grasp in the next moment or two, then he should have known better. He should have known the Combaticons were going to present a challenge. He also should have known that Onslaught was going to partake in the Triple Changers' apprehension.

But didn't. Thinking required an effort Blitzwing found irritating, particularly during battle. For the most part, he left the thinking to everyone else, content with his actions leading the way.

But when the cliff face exploded in grainy showers of rocky debris, descending upon him like heat-seeking missiles on the verge of destroying their targets, Blitzwing ventured to assume that maybe it was time to think. Coupled with the fact that a stun grenade had been hurled in their direction, along with a wound Astrotrain had received just now, that idea gathered conviction and strengthened into a certainty.

Oh, right. The stun grenade.

A brilliant flash snatched away his vision, replacing it with a field of darkness. Blitzwing's optical sensors, perpetually adjusted to a higher level—because you never knew when an old enemy of yours you ticked off in the past planned to cave in your helm—took an absolute trashing courtesy of the grenade's effects. Determined to press on, however, even with his optics temporarily shut down, he continued his ascent.

Damn Brawl. If he and Brawl didn't get along so well, he would have remembered to get even with the Combaticon.

Using the cliff face as a guide, Blitzwing climbed, foot thrusters pushing him upwards. Swaying to the left, he climbed. Veering to the right, he climbed. Bumping into the cliff face itself, he climbed. Taking somebody's well placed shot in the back of his leg, he climbed.

Eventually, Blitzwing pierced through the water's surface, throwing himself onto the sandy strip of land lying before him. He scrambled to his pedes, rifle still clasped in his actuator.

His sight slowly came back to him. But the back of his left leg was messed up good.

Spinning around but finding no Decepticons in pursuit, he said, “'Train, did you get a load of Swindle's gibberish? What do we do about about? Fly the frag away or go back down there?”