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On Shore

Brawl was enjoying life to its fullest right now. Nothing beat fighting the Autobots. Sowing destruction all around him, watching as him enemies scurried around in their feeble hope of being able to stop him. He was built for this. With Hardhead and Warpath out of the picture for reason or another, the Autobots had lost whatever chances they had had to breach Brawl's thick armor plating through use of conventional weaponry they carried. Even Kup's musket laser did little more than register in Brawl's tactical HUD as his shielding deflected what little was left of the weapon's power at this range.

"That almost tickles old timer! Unless your strategy involves waiting for me to rust down, I'd suggest you put more effort to it!" Brawl boomed at Kup before firing another explosive shell towards the Autobot veteran. It wasn't like the Combaticon didn't respect Kup's fighting prowess. He knew very well that Kup was an experienced and crafty adversary. But Brawl, like many other Combaticons was passionate about weapons. And he knew very well that despite packing punch at close range, Kup was just too far away from him for his musket laser to hurt Brawl.

All this of course, did bring out that certain short coming of Brawl's. He had difficult time to grasp on the bigger picture. With his attention focused on Kup, he had almost forgotten that he had fired at Blades too and invoking the wrath of the Protectobot streetfighter - an enemy who actually was equipped with more firepower than Brawl would have liked to give him credit for. The reality struck hard as his sensors registered Blades' firing rockets at him. Through instincts honed in tens of thousands of years of combat, Brawl's turret rotated to face the direction of the rockets racing towards him. It wasn't like he had any chance of showing off his marksmanship skills with his 140mm cannon. No, he did it to be able to fire nearly continuous sonic assault towards the approaching rockets with his twin sonic cannon - practically creating a wall of sonic blasts that despite of the inaccuracy of his blasts, managed to detonate the rockets before they'd have hit their target.

"You can't hurt me! You can't even hit me! You're so going down choppaboy!" Brawl howled his version of extremely witty insults at Blades and began tracking Blades' movements with his main cannon. Which in turn only proved that he had practically forgot Kup's existence.

In the horizon however, a new threat approached the airborne Autobots - Dirge and Thundercracker. The chilling wail of jet engines over the battlefield foretelling their arrival as the two Decepticon jets took the advantage of Dirge's fear inducing power through having decreased their flying speed below that of the speed of sound just prior entering the fray. Indeed, now it was not only Ramjet and Vortex whom Blades and Slingshot had to worry about despite having been able to drop Astrotrain and Blitzwing from the skies. For unless the two airborne Autobots had forgotten to turn their targeting alarms on - they were now practically screaming high alert as the two fresh Decepticon fliers were seeking to lock their missiles on them.

Treeline

Streetwise provided as much cover fire as possible as events began to spiral hopelessly out of control. What had been intended as a simple rescue mission had escalated into a dire combat situation. Not really surprising, if Streetwise was being honest with himself. Since Hot Rod and the others had actually tracked down the Decepticons somehow, it would be logical to assume that their base was close. The appearance of a whole battalion of Decepticons went a long way in cementing that theory. There wasn't much Streetwise could do against the Combaticons with only his photon pistol. To make matters worse, the Decepticons swarmed the skies as well, outnumbering their two Autobot fliers by a significant margin.

"Where the frag are the other Aerialbots anyway?" the interceptor muttered to himself at he shot off a few more rounds.

Streetwise could probably help out with his trunk-mounted double-barreled air compressor cannon. He was deciding on how he should go about it when Groove's cry for help came over the emergency comm link. Concern for his teammate gripped the Protectobot's spark for only an astrosecond before he jerked into action.

Streetwise burst from the cover of the treeline, hoping to draw some attention to himself and away from the retreating Autobots as well as Slingshot and Blades. He had a plan. It was a reckless plan, but it was still a plan. He was going to pick a fight with Brawl, which could potentially be one of the more suicidal undertakings of his life. If all went well, Streetwise would be able to distract him long enough for Blades to help out Groove. If all didn't go well...Well, he would cross that space bridge when he came to it. His priority was assisting Groove.

Transforming into his alternate form, he charged his air compressor cannon and tore down the beach, making himself a moving target and hopefully harder to hit. The sand made it difficult to steer and maneuver, so Streetwise tried to keep to solid ground as much as possible. Once the air compressor cannon was charged, he swerved to face Brawl and fired it off at the hulking Combaticon. Hopefully, that would grab the Combaticon's attention in a large way. Streetwise opened a comm link to Blades.

>>"Blades! Get Groove! I'll cover you!"<<

This would not be fun. In fact, provoking Brawl is what Streetwise would consider the antithesis of fun. The interceptor felt a festering seed of dread deep in his spark. The feeling only seemed to intensify exponentially as the astroseconds passed. Then, Streetwise realized that was coming. Dirge had arrived.

Slag, that's all we need! Seekers...

Skies Above

Ramjet was, oddly enough, not dropping his payload of cluster bombs... yet. He had been watching the interesting and disturbing view of the battle below him, paying careful attention to the likes of Hot Rod and Darkride, the latter of which has mysteriously risen from the dead, and the former had teleported around.

It was then when more Autobots bounced in from space. The battle was a bloodbath. Autobots against Autobots, practically tearing each other apart! Maybe... Maybe there was an opportunity to be had.

He recieved signals from both Blitzwing and Astrotrain, both of them had fallen to the newly arrived Aerialbots and Protectobots.

<<Frag. Retreat to the base and get to Onslaught if you can! We need as much manpower as I -- we can get.>> Ramjet said through the comm link with the Triple Changers.

It was then when Hot Rod appeared again, but flaming. Had he been hit? No, Hot Rod was actually producing the flames, but not being burned by them. It was then when he heard what Hot Rod said. He spoke his new designation: The Fallen.

This sent a chill down Ramjet's spine. He had heard the legends, and he did not like how they ended. Always with The Fallen One plotting the destruction of all life.

Ramjet collected his shattered courage and contacted the one person he would never in a Vorn contact: Ultra Magnus.

<<Magnus. It seems we have a common enemy.>> Ramjet said through the private comm link with the City Commander, with any luck, their combined forces would be able to stop this menace before it gained any ground.

<<Commander Onslaught! I know who is doing all of this, but you are not going to believe it. It is The Fallen One from legend!>> Ramjet contacted Onslaught as fast as he could so he may pull out of sight from the annoying Aerialbots and transform beyond the treeline.

*****

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

<<Ye got it, Scrapper!>> Bonecrusher replied as he bounded over to Onslaught.

Bonecrusher landed in a puff of silt as he trod forward to the Combaticon Leader.

"Scrapper want'd me and Long Haul to get ov'r here and get on the front lines!" Bonecrusher boomed, looking at the much larger stature of Onslaught.

One thing bugged him, though, what if he or Long Haul got scrapped? Devastator would not be able to be finished! The whole thing would go up in flames. Well, if they were on the surface things would go down in flames, here they would just collapse.

Shoreline

The battlefield reports seemed to be getting more interesting by the klik. Onslaught knew that if he wanted to get in to the thick of it and see what exactly was going on, he was going to need to press forward and risk exposing himself. It was a necessary risk, under the circumstances.

>>"Copy that, Vortex. I'm moving in,"<< Onslaught transmitted, noticing that something had seemingly interfered with Vortex's aerial targeting system, as the Combaticon Commander wasn't getting the same clearly pinpointed targets that he had been previously. >>"Find a way to restore your aerial targeting. I'm getting interference. Brawl probably is too, not that he cares."<<

He looked back to acknowledge that Swindle had joined their group. Not far behind him, a pair of Constructicons approached, acknowledging that Scrapper had followed through on Onslaught's orders to the Constructicons. Both would be useful in the coming breems. He was about to address them verbally when another strange report came in, this time from Ramjet. Onslaught held up a hand as he continued to listen to the transmission.

Now he really couldn't believe what he was hearing.

The first odd report he had received indicated that there were Autobots fighting Autobots. And now, if Ramjet was to be believed, the Fallen was somewhere on this very battlefield. The Fallen.

The Fallen....?

Onslaught couldn't repeat it enough times to make it sound plausible. It was almost as if one of his soldiers had reported that Primus was on the battlefield. Or the collective Thirteen had just entered the fray. What in the slagging hell had he been thrown in to? From a human perspective, it was as if Zeus, Hades or Quetzalcoatl had just been sighted as a combatant. There was not way to strategically prepare for that. Onslaught, however, would do his best.

>>"Copy, Ramjet. Forward that location to all units,"<< Onslaught began. There had been no need to request a repeat transmission. It had come through clearly. Nonetheless, he did require some confirmation. If this was some sort of ploy or misinformation, Ramjet would pay dearly.

>>"Onslaught to all Decepticons. I have a visual report of.......the Fallen on the field. I want secondary confirmation. Description is unnecessary. If it's true and you see him, you'll know. Do not engage this individual, I repeat, do not engage."<<

Onslaught stalked toward the treeline where a significant amount of the field action seemed to be occurring. He launched another photon missile in to the treeline as his sonic stun gun transformed from a compartment on his arm. Dual-gripping the weapon, he let loose with a volley at the first Autobot to clearly come within his field of vision, which in this case was the Protectobot, Streetwise. Truthfully, if Ramjet's report was remotely accurate. Hot Spot and his secondaries were the least of the Combaticon Commander's concern now.

((OOC: I'm splitting this post up...because it makes me feel better...and because the damn thing is so long.))

Skies Above

“Oh now that’s just prime. Just what I need…an annoying braggart who can’t fight for scrap!”

Of course Blades was referring to Slingshot…who else could even register as such on the Protectobot’s radar. Now all he needed to do was out fly and out class the Aerialbot. Probably wouldn’t be all that bad…showing him off.

Blades’ musings were interrupted rather rudely by the frantic communique of Groove who seemed to be…oh this just keeps getting better and better. He tried to discern the progress of his rockets but with the precarious mess Groove had now gotten himself into Blades had to abandon his watch and head to his teammate’s aid.

>>”I’m comin’ Groove!”<<

While en-route to the scout a strong sense of apprehension nearly washed over the flier in a rocking wave. Why was he suddenly so worried? His inner ponderings were answered when the sound of jet engines came into audio-shot. Frag! Too busy trying to slag that idiot Combaticon forgot to watch for other fliers. Scrap, this is not gonna be easy.

The worry and foreboding remained as he banked hard and made his approach to save his freefalling comrade…to his own relief Blades was able to hold it together long enough to transform and make the necessary rescue by grabbing hold of Groove’s wrist and tugging up hard insuring the scout was secure.

“Next time…make sure you’re packin’!”

Blades began to maneuver closer to the treeline so he could find a suitable and secure location to set Groove down when he received a communique from Streetwise, who was also prepping to cover his and Groove’s escape.

>>“Already on it, Street! I got Groove and I’m working my way to set him down. But I gotta get back up in the air…need to make sure Slingshot don’t screw nothin’ up!”<<

The air support mech brought his comrade within a few feet of the ground and released Groove. Blades didn’t stick around long but he did leave his comrade with some parting words…

“Keep to the treeline…in fact go keep Aid company…I’m sure he could use your help.”

Blades then rose up into the air and transformed back into his Bell UH-1Y Venom Helicopter mode and shot off and back into the fray.

On Shore – Cliffside Outcropping

Pompous fool. It will be a great honor to be the one to eliminate this…stain.

Take it from me Magnus won’t go down so easy. Neither will the rest of them. If anything we’re fighters each and every one of them.

Spare me. Your kind may be capable of dealing with minute altercations, as with this petty war of yours, but you are all incapable of saving yourselves.

We’d all rather die knowing that we at least attempted to stop you than live with the knowledge that we…

HAHA! You are a persistent one I will give you that, but it matters not. Your pleas and vigorous attempts at elevating the importance of your race and friends are moot. They don’t matter…you don’t matter. Only He matters.

And your so called heralds…do they matter?

They are integral to bringing about the coming apocalypse…so to answer your question…yes they matter. Now watch as they prove their usefulness…

The internal battle that was still being fought by the original caretaker of the flame embossed frame finally subsided. There was a sudden calm that washed over The Fallen as he perceived everything all at once…from the breeze that was rolling off the waves to the flapping of frantic wings as a group of birds took off from their hidden perches. All that was around flooded his senses…and for now the one thing that posed any kind of threat was located just behind him and his gathered brood…Tonton in his Cyber Primate mode.

On Shore – Cliffside Outcropping

A twisted smile formed on The Fallen’s face as he kept his optics glued to Magnus and sent a knowing nod in the Commander’s direction.

Darkride…tear him apart.

From the fire engulfed demigod’s left side the dark purple Decepticon interrogator sent his master’s opposite a broad wicked smile. Darkride vanished from his master’s side leaving nothing more than a colored blur in his wake.

Poised just behind the disfigured form of what used to be Hot Rod Tonton received the silent message from Magnus to wait until his proposal was rejected by the fiery mech before he made his move. Unfortunately that moment never came. Tonton’s attention was drawn from his target to the fast moving glimmer that was advancing on his position.

Before he could even register the hit Tonton was flying backward and landed hard on his back. With a quick shake of his head he attempted to clear the static that filled his HUD. After his optics finally reset and he was able to get back on his feet he transformed back into his bipedal mode and readied his weapons for another assault.

Tonton never saw the small slim mech dart at him until Darkride had tackled the larger Autobot to the ground pinning him in place with much more strength than was possible for a ‘Con his size. Tonton struggled but made little to no headway, instead he felt the pressure on his body intensify.

“Gah! Get…off you fragged up piece of sla…”

His disparaging remarks were cut off when Darkride lunged forward and dug his teeth deep into Tonton’s neck. The interrogator then proceeded to savagely tear into the dermal plating. A series of animalistic grunts and growls poured from the smaller mech as he ripped away chunks of not only metal but bright energon and other vital fluids.

At the same time the deranged Decepticon was mauling him Tonton grabbed a hold of Darkride’s shoulders and shoved as hard as he was able but the Fallen’s herald could not be moved, instead the maneuver only caused more pain and provoke the interrogator further.

“AGH! Na…NO! S…some…one!”

As the growls finally died down Darkride lifted his head from the neck of his prey and regarded Tonton with an energon stained smile.

“You sing...pretty. Sing for me again.”

Tonton’s optics widened just as Darkride flashed him a toothy grin and resumed his attack. This time the lithe Decepticon went to work at tearing into every conceivable crevice and seam…and Tonton did sing… to Darkride’s delight.

On Shore – Treeline

First Aid breathed a sigh of relief when he was greeted by another Autobot and a Decepticon…or worse one of those crazed mechs. The doctor lowered his photon pistol and slumped back down in order to make him a much smaller target if the ‘Cons or the “others” decided to fire on his location.

First Aid gave Bidder a quizzical look when the large mech announced that he would do his job and First Aid was to stick to what he did best. With a slight nod the Protectobot agreed to his terms and quickly set his sights back on the battle ensuing.

At the sound of incoming ordinance First Aid placed both hands over his head and crouched down as low as he could while trying to protect Warpath’s cranial unit. The missiles and weapons fire was getting too close for comfort but he’d need to remain in case there were any more casualties.

Through the din of the fight the faint sound of someone crying out for help flooded First Aid’s audial sensors giving the doctor reason to rise up and take a scan of the battlefield. When he turned to address his “bodyguard” Bidder was already bounding forth his weapons already charging up to rain hellfire down on whoever it was attacking Tonton.

“Wait! Get back here!”
_____

From upon his perch The Fallen observed all that was transpiring and he did not fail to notice the fast approaching form of Bidder. Comical the way he spews forth a useless war cry. He shook his head in disappointment before he gave his young herald’s shoulders a firm squeeze.

Eviscerate him, child.

Hex made no sound instead he shot out from under his master’s grip and raced down to meet Bidder halfway. The hulking Autobot kept his momentum steady and raised his right arm drawing it back and balling his hand into a tight fist. As Hex drew closer Bidder’s fist shot forward but it made contact with nothing leaving him exposed to a counter attack…the young herald was all too happy to take advantage of the opportunity.

The quick sidestep let Hex use Bidder’s own momentum against him by grabbing his wrist and pulling causing the ‘Bot to twist and lose his footing. As Bidder began to go down Hex released his wrist and let the big mech fall flat on his back. And before he knew what to do the silver mech was on top of him.

The look of surprise on his face was priceless…for a brief moment Hex stared and took in the scene before him. Bidder started to raise both arms ready to smash both fists into the side of Hex’s head when Hex drew back his right hand and plunged it through Bidder’s abdominal plating and deep into his internal mechanisms. His teeth gritted tightly Hex rooted around within until, with a vicious scream of triumph, he pulled a fist full of inner workings out and then tossed the mechanical entrails beside the shocked mech’s body.

He plunged back in and continued to dig until the deep crevice was free of internals and he finally moved on to Bidder’s chest. Hex maneuvered himself up his victim’s body and stared intently into the stunned ‘Bot’s optics. When Bidder caught sight of the young mech’s blue optics he shook his head in protest.

One final scream from the large mech was the last sound made before Hex stood up holding his opponent’s darkened spark chamber in his right hand.

With one nod The Fallen brought his young herald back to stand in front of him and Darkride by his side. Both harbingers, covered in the life blood of their victims, had performed exquisitely. And as he regarded Ultra Magnus once more The Fallen placed his hands gently upon Hex’s shoulders.

A disturbing smile formed on Hex’s face as he raised the spark chamber and tossed it down to come to rest before Magnus’ feet.

“It’s not the one I wanted.”

The demigod let out a low chuckle as he patted the mech firmly.

“Mass genocide, Ultra Magnus. It is what the future holds for your kind.”

His final words were punctuated by the formation of swirling void that seemed to rip right through the air. The flame engulfed form stepped back into the void with each one of his heralds in tow. A broad knowing smile was the last sight The Fallen gifted Magnus before he and his followers vanished from sight.

On Shore - Abandoned Storage Cave

Ricochet had expected to die within that storage cave, left behind by those who found him to be rather unpleasant to be around. It was almost enough to make him rethink his entire demeanor towards his own comrades....almost. Unfortunately for everyone else, the gunner’s temper could not be sedated by his current situation. If anything it only succeeded in making him madder by the astrosecond. He wasn’t really angry at his own kind as enough time had not yet passed to be considered left behind. No, he was more enraged by the sick and twisted behavior of Darkride or whatever that thing was now. Justice would be served on the vicious interrogator along with the rest of the Decepticons for that matter. Until then, the marksman would have no choice but to take out his aggressions on whomever was nearest to him that managed to tick him off.

Within moments someone had entered the cave at a brisk pace and appeared directly by Ricochet’s side. At first he thought it was Darkride, changing his mind and returning to finish the tortures he had started. However, that was not the case as Hot Spot then spoke to the black and gold mech, telling him that everything was going to be okay. The gunner simply replied with a nod as he spat up more energon, making a verbal response almost impossible. It was of no consequence as the Protectobot Commander knew exactly what to do, lifting the wounded mech up within his arms and carrying him out of the cave.

As per Hot Spot’s warning, Ricochet was in for a bumpy ride with the promise of First Aid’s healing abilities that would see the marksman all patched up in no time. Somehow I doubt that. I'm getting a second rate medic instead of Ratchet. I'll be lucky if I even recognize myself when all's said and done, the black and gold gunner thought as he allowed himself to fall into general stasis. It wasn’t full on stasis lock, but just enough to conserve what energon he had left inside his fuel cells that was not currently spilling out of his smashed up faceplate.

On Shore - Cliffside Outcropping

A broad smile spread across Hardhead’s faceplate as Rodimus Prime finally revealed his true identity - The Fallen! The flames that had engulfed the former cavalier caused no discomfort to either the green herald nor to the newest of their kin, Drag Strip. Both remained steadfast even as the battle continued on down below. Ultra Magnus, now having seen what he was truly up against, could offer nothing more than a demand for surrender.

“Is he serious?” Drag Strip asked no one in particular with a slight chuckle, crossing his arms over his chestplate.

“I’m afraid he is,” Hardhead responded as he glanced over at the former Stunticon. “And that is what’s truly sad. Even in the face of the greatest enemy he has ever encountered, Magnus wants to talk things out. Pathetic.”

What was even more pathetic was the attempted simultaneous assaults from two Autobots, Tonton and Bidder. The former had been positioned behind the demigod but stood no chance of getting any closer as the Fallen quickly sent Darkride to rip him to pieces. Likewise, Bidder was easily eviscerated by Hex, who took great delight in doing so. It seemed almost surreal as both Hex and Darkride were once bitter enemies not too long ago and now were united together as supernatural brothers.

Since Hardhead had already decapitated both Warpath and Howlstrike, thus satisfying his lust for carnage for the time being, he was thoroughly able to enjoy the energon shed he was witnessing. Drag Strip, on the other hand, felt a slight sense of disappointment that he was not one of the heralds sent by their master to eliminate the enemy. It mattered little, of course, as there were plenty more to destroy. After all, Drag still had the eventual encounter with his former leader, Motormaster, to look forward to and all of the suffering that the belligerent unit commander had coming to him.

Once both Hex and Darkride had returned to the rocky outcropping, the Fallen promised Ultra Magnus that mass genocide was what awaited him along with the entirety of the Cybertronian race. A swirling portal then appeared behind the demigod and his heralds, one that would take the quintet elsewhere. Drag Strip and Hardhead followed their master and the others back into the void which quickly consumed them, leaving nothing behind for anyone to find or trace. It was like they had never been there at all.

Shoreline

Long Haul had given up his position in the trenches that surrounded the partially built underwater base when it became clear that the structure was not the Autobots’ target. In fact, it was very possible that the enemy did not even know the base was down there. Instead, the green transport returned to his robot mode and made the long trudge through the muck at the bottom of the Yellow Sea until he had finally reached the shoreline where the crux of the battle was now being fought.

“Looks like I’m right on time,” Long Haul mused as his brought his laser pistol up to bare and began firing at any Autobot he could locate. There was so much activity going on that is was difficult to pinpoint a specific target. Everything came to a screeching halt when he received Onslaught’s communique regarding the Fallen, himself, being on the battlefield. “Seriously?!?” The heavy lifter stopped and began to scan the tree line where the majority of the Autobots were currently positioned at or retreating to before glancing up to see the quintet of mechs on a cliffside outcropping.

>>”Onslaught, this is Long Haul. I’ve just arrived on the beach and can make out the Fallen and four other mechs standing with him on the side of a cliff just above the treeline. My sensors indicate that those with him are Darkride, Drag Strip and the Autobots Hardhead and I think the other one is Hex. Not sure, though. But I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Decepticons and Autobots working together?! I just can’t....wait....something is happening.”<<

Long Haul paused his transmission when a swirling void opened and consumed the supernatural five before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

>>”You’re not going to believe this, Commander. They’re gone! The Fallen and his followers have vanished into thin air! What the slag is going on here?!”<<

Treeline

Groove was eternally grateful when he felt Blades grab his wrist and ended his downward descent. He made no response to the Protectobot copter's "packin" comment, even though this was one of the few times that the scout's pacifism hadn't played a part in yet another need to be rescued.

"Thank you, Blades, again.", Groove said sincerely as he landed his feet on the ground. He nodded to Blades' suggestion, even though the Protectobot helicopter was already too far gone to see it.

He's right, I need to help First Aid. Things are already spinning out of control, and he'll need all the help he can get if we're going to get everyone out of here alive.

After scanning the area, Groove located his friend in their earlier position, standing alone. Groove transformed into his motorcycle form, quickly manuevering through the forest to the medic's location. Transforming back to his robot mode, he landed a few feet from his friend and unholstered his photon pistol, keeping an eye on the battle.

"Are you all right, First Aid?", the scout asked as he took a better look at the battle around them.

Now that he wasn't being chased by Vortex, Groove was able to better understand the situation, and it wasn't going too well. Though several Autobots had now joined them, most notably Ultra Magnus, the Decepticons own ranks were growing as well. The most puzzling thing was a group of several mechs out in the distance. In the middle was one large one, who looked vaguely like Rodimus, but far more sinister and monstrous.

It was then that Groove noticed the mech he saw earlier running toward the group. The one that had been Rodimus then sent one of the mechs- Hex, it looked like Hex.

"Oh dear Primus!!", Groove said horrified as he watched the young mech rip out the larger mech's spark chamber, then toss it to Ultra Magnus. After Rodimus had shared a few words with Magnus, a hole seemed to be ripped into the sky and the five mechs walked into it and left.

While Groove tried to stay focussed and keep a watch for any incoming Decepticons, one could see the sense of guilt and horror that was etched on his faceplate.

That was no ordinary mech. What is happening? Why couldn't I have stopped it before it got this far?

Treeline

Such barbarism, Magnus noted as Tonton was torn limb from limb in a matter of moments. So swift was his dismemberment that not even he had the opportunity to intervine on the behalf of his subordinate. The thick extasy of enjoyment over the sheer rending of an enemy, it was more than even he had seen on countless battlefields throughout the cosmos.

"Bastard." He muttered as he immediately raised his rifle at the herald and the Rodimus Amalgomation. Without a nanosecond of processor speed later, Ultra Magnus pulled back on the firing stud on his primary weapon, sending a short burst of lethal energies straight toward the heart of his twisted enemy.

And with only a micron to spare, The Fallen and his team faded into the incomporial, and his shots struck hard against the surface of a boulder causing it to split and its face to bubble. Magnus swore as he lowered his weapon, his emotional rage broiling just beneath the facade of calm. "So, the since of a fallen father, comes back to haunt the surviving sons."

An old saying that Sentinel Prime had once uttered to him during his early vorns of training. 'A future Prime must remember the past. They must be versed in combat but as important, in the culture and histories of the people they are sworn to protect. Myths and Legacies, that is the curse of the Prime... that is the curse of the Matrix."

Over head Ultra Magnus made out two new contrails in the skies. His sensors zoomed in to make out the faint outline of Ramjet and another one of the seekers. Both were charging in hot and apparently making a bee-line straight for Slingshot's position. To another angle, the Autobot Commander was able to make out the soft beatings and reverberations of Vortex as the Combaticon copter patroled the grounds in order to spot targets for his compatriots.

Magnus swiftly played out various senarios in his head before determining that this battle itself was unnecessary. There was nothing to be gained here, save for the further wounding of those under his command and perhaps the defeat of the Combaticons and their Triple Changer support.

No, he needed to end this and repair enough of the old alliances to deal with this coming threat. The original 13 were forced to put aside their differences to bring down one of their own. And without their awesome power, Autobots and Decepticons would have to unite to stave off this coming doom, even if it was temporarily.

Without preamble, a small direct link came through to disrupt the Commander's musings. It was from Ramjet, one of the incoming Decepticon Seekers who had been dispatched probably to help stabilize Air Superiority. Magnus activated his link and acknowledged the flier's observation. "Indeed. I would agree with you Ramjet, and by all that has transpired, this battle is now moot. We have a larger enemy to contend with, beyond our political perview."

Ultra Magnus activated a general communications link to the Decepticons and the Autobots who were spread across the battlefield. "This is Ultra Magnus. Decepticons, Autobots, stand down. Onslaught, I propose a ceasefire immediately. It would appear our situation on this world has become more complicated... for both our goals and inclinations."

Skies Above

Slingshot's sensors immediately tracked the two targets ahead of his guns as they both spiraled down to the deck and disappeared into the sea of sand and mud that lined the shore. His initial reaction was to gloat over the inevitable victory over two thick headed and thick hided lumbering multiformers. But his radar systems cut in and drew his attention to the task at hand.

Two signals emerged off his six and just outside weapons range, though they were closing fast. The aerialbot slapped his left flap down to create maximum lift surface and caused him to shoot starward at a sharp 35 degree angle. He cut his flaps again and snapped downward into a high speed half S turn as he reoriented himself toward Ramjet and began to fly headlong towards his newest opponent. "Come on ya flying scrap pile, prepare to eat some high yield mortar shells."

The Aerialbot's sensors narrowed as he entered into a tightly spinning barrel roll. As he ate the distance between he and his new dance partner, his sensors registered a firing solution on the contrails of the Decepticon Seeker. Microns ticked as he hit optimal firing range, and he loaded two powerful high yield shockwave mortar shells into his forward guns. Slowly his internal launch mechanisms began to slowly descend as he readied to fire... then his comm system flared to life with a general order to stand down.

Slingshot swore revenge upon the scrapper who had decided to interrupt his run, until he realized that it was Magnus who had issued the order. He cut his armorments and activated the safeties as he flanked at a ninty degree angle flying passed Ramjet. "You got lucky this time Conehead. Next time you'll join your sandy friends."

Treeline

Just as soon as Groove was safely on the ground Blades took on his Bell UH-1Y Venom helicopter mode and rose high up into the open sky and set off after a new target. Even with his burden unloaded and safely on the ground Blades could still feel the effects of Dirge's fear engines...there was just one problem, the Protectobot flier couldn't locate the blue Conehead. And that only amplified his worry even more. The guy's a jet why can't I focus on locating him? From what he could tell, Dirge was everywhere.

Tried as he could but the confusion and doubt that was running through Blade's processor had him too preoccupied to realize that the Seeker had moved in behind him. By the time he heard the incoming machine gun fire it was already too late. The projectiles were already tearing into his side and peppering his rotors. Next time. Next time watch your rear. It was the last thought that ran through Blade's processor as he began to lose altitude.
__

The only thing First Aid could do was stare. Stare slack jawed and speechless as to just what he had witnessed. One Deception con, like a rabid animal, completely tore Tonton limb from limb…the entire time with a smile spread wide across his face. For a moment it looked as though he was actually dousing himself in the life fluids that where spilling from the Autobot’s lifeless husk.

And to make matters worse, one of their own had been sent to decimate the mech who was supposed to have been watching him. The fact that First Aid couldn’t stop Bidder from advancing on the demigod had the doctor nearly incapacitated. And then the young mech moved in…the one he could remember Axle was in charge of…Hex was his name. The young scout seemed to find pleasure in simply gutting Bidder before he could even get a shot in. Hex then ended with a coup de grâce…the complete removal of Bidder’s very spark chamber…First Aid thought he could see the large mech’s face as he witnessed his own demise by forced spark removal. Then it was over.

First Aid started at the sound of Groove’s query wanting to know if the doctor was alright. Truth be told, First Aid wasn’t even sure anymore. He had witnessed the demise of many friends and foes alike, but this…this was just brutal.

“Uhh. Yeah. Yeah, I think so, Groove. I think so.” He could hear his own voice, it sounded so small…so lost. “I need to get out there. I have to see if there’s anything I can do for them.” Rising to his feet First Aid regarded his friend before he made to work toward both downed mechs.