- Motto: "Transform and smoke 'em!"
- Weapon: Twin Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launchers
Ricochet grumbled angrily under his breath as his shots just missed their intended target. I was unlike him to miss anything or anyone, but considering that their cover had already been blown by the insane Hex and his big mouth, it was not surprising that the interrogator had managed to elude the incoming plasma darts. No matter. I’ll get you on the next attempt, ‘Con, the marksman assured himself as he readied his rifle again and took careful aim at Darkride. Unfortunately, the young Autobot saw fit to do something entirely crazy, but well within character, and run out towards the sadistic torturer, blocking the gunner’s line of sight in the process.
“You fraggin’ idiot! Get the slag outta the way!” Ricochet shouted from his perch atop the sand dune, but naturally Hex either didn’t hear him or was just ignoring him. It was probably the latter. For a brief moment, the marksman considered taking another shot at Darkride anyway, Hex be damned. However, he knew that would not go over well with Rodimus and would likely lead to some kind of punishment. Thus, the black and gold mech simply watched the ensuing confrontation and waited for Darkride to make short work of Hex. Then once the crazy ‘Bot was out of the picture, the marksman could take his next shot.
That did not happen, however, as Rodimus quickly entered the fray and dragged the interrogator kicking and screaming into a nearby clump of trees. What the frag? Ricochet thought as a look of shock became etched across his otherwise angry faceplate. Something’s not right here. Why not just kill Darkride where he was? Is Rodimus trying to take him prisoner? This doesn’t make any sense at all. His patience growing very thin, the black and gold marksman jumped down from the dune and approached the thicket where Rodimus and his captive had vanished into. The interrogator’s shrieks of pain filled the air, digging into the gunner’s audio receptors like daggers.
“What the frag is going on in there?! Rodimus!! What are you doing to him? Just kill the little slagger and be done with it already! We don’t have time for this!” Ricochet shouted as he then glared back at Hex, the young Autobot displaying a decidedly wicked smirk on his visage. “And what the hell are you smiling at, shorty? You think this is all funny? I came down here to kill ‘Cons, not watch Hot Rodimus play with them like his own personal toys! If he really wants to be the new Prime, I suggest he gets his aft out here and starts acting like a real leader!”
Bringing his plasma dart rifle to bare, Ricochet returned his attention to the wooded area in front of him and waited for the flame-covered mech and whatever was left of his Decepticon captive to emerge from seclusion. The gunner didn't understand what exactly had just transpired here, and thus he wasn't going to take any chances, keeping his weapon up and ready just in case he needed to use it for any reason.
Hardhead paused his assault as first Hex moved onto the beach to attack Darkride followed closely by Rodimus, who swiftly took hold of the interrogator and dragged him helplessly into the thicket. A smile creased his lips as the green herald opened fire at Oil Slick with his shatterblasters once again, hoping to keep the Decepticon chemist pinned down while his master went to work on bringing his new brother into the fold. Darkride’s screams were like music to the war veteran’s audio receptors, but not as much as the tirade coming from a clearly perplexed Ricochet, demanding to know what was going on.
It seems, Master, that our resident marksman is a bit perturbed at your strange behavior with the torturer. I’m sure that the others are feeling a similar way but have yet to express their concerns openly. Should Hex and I drop the charade and deal with these Autobots now before we move into the sea to acquire our final brother? I so want to see the looks on their faceplates when they come to realize they’ve been duped. Ha ha ha!
A broad grin spread across Hardhead’s visage as he continued his barrage on the dome-headed Decepticon. Hopefully, the stubborn war veteran would soon be granted permission to turn his weapons against the Autobots, themselves, allowing him to finally cease pretending to care about his former comrades in arms. Then Hardhead and his brothers could bathe in the energon shed that would follow, cleansing them all of the filthy residue of their former Cybertronian existences once and for all!