Seibertron.com Energon Pub Forums

On Shore

It had not taken long before one of the other Decepticons was able to get the Combaticon Commander what he was wanting. Though he wasn't certain if his situation was any better or worse for having heard it.

Two independent sightings of a mechanoid who--if the legends were true--was one of the thirteen progenitors of their entire race. It was difficult even for a gifted strategist like Onslaught to wrap his mind around.

But that was exactly what he was going to do.

>>"Understood, Long Haul. Standby."<<

Onslaught's optics sought out the area above the treeline on the cliffs that Long Haul had indicated. Zooming in, he could see Ultra Magnus nearby as well. It was almost perfect positioning. Onslaught would release every mortar in his arsenal and see what managed to remain of the two, given that they were in such close proximity to one another; however, before Onslaught could really put that line of thinking in to action, the Fallen seemed to open up something of a spacebridge like vortex and then he and those who now appeared to be allied with him were gone in a burst of flame and energy.

Onslaught's actuators tightened. It was clear now that the Autobots had not come here to assault their construction site. They were dealing with internal affairs that would clearly eclipse the internal power struggle amongst the Decepticon command figures. At least there was no mythically legendary Cybertronian vying to fill Megatron's place.

But perhaps that was not the Fallen's goal.....indeed, how could it be? The Autobots would never fall in line with the vision of such a figure, at least if any significant percentage of the stories were true. The Decepticons, on the other hand, were quite another matter. With Megatron's death, a vacuum of power had been created that such a figure, even if it was an impostor of some fantastical sort, could fill. That presented a threat that could not be understated in and of itself. Yet if it truly was the Fallen of legend surely his objectives were far greater than simple, factional command. The threat he presented, then, would be equally great.

The transmission from Ultra Magnus came as a surprise, but also served to bring Onslaught's thoughts out of the hypothetical and back to the here and now. Eerily, Magnus' sentiment echoed the one that had already begun to form in the Combaticon's mind.

>>"Do not presume to command Decepticons, Magnus. They stand down at my behest, not yours,"<< Onslaught began, initially appalled by the City Commander's gall at attempting to order both sides to cease hostilities. Ultra Magnus' prowess and skill were well known to Autobots and Decepticons alike. In a direct confrontation, Onslaught expected he too would meet defeat at Magnus' hands. Even so, he would not allow the Autobot to overstep his bounds unchallenged. But that did not mean Onslaught would ignore reason, either. >>"......however, given what I have seen, I am in agreement with your request. I will order all Decepticons to stand down and we will parley over this new development. Rendezvous with your subordinates at my position."<<

Onslaught then switched to a broader, minimally secured Decepticon frequency.

>>"Decepticons--cease fire. Immediately. Constructicons, return to Scrapper and inform him of these developments. The rest of you will join me at the treeline. Much has changed within the last breem. There is a new threat and we must deal with it, as it will most certainly deal with us."<<

Eventually..., Onslaught thought to himself as he began to walk towards the treeline where numerous other mechanoids were already gathered, his weapon transforming and retreating back in to its storage cavity,

On Shore

Kup grunted as another shell slammed into the ground nearby, pelting him with shrapnel and debris. The old timer almost growled out something about not getting any covering fired when Brawl’s attention was drawn away by just that. Maybe some of his training over all that time had sunk in with a few bots. He didn’t waste any time pondering that though as he hefted Warpath’s body on his shoulders and staggered for the treeline.

The elder bot crashed through the trees with even less grace then he normally possessed. He had been so focused on getting the wounded back to cover he only now noticed the deaths of two other Autobots, apparently in pretty grisly fashion. This day was turning into a very dark one for the Autobots. Even Magnus was going to have a tough time holding things together after this.

Kup caught site of Rodimus saying something to Magnus before vanishing through some sort of tear in reality along with what looked like a few Bots and Cons. He wasn’t exactly a science type but he knew there was nothing he’d ever seen or heard that could do that. They were dealing with something far bigger and more terrible then he could comprehend at the moment. He wasn’t sure what Optimus would even do in this situation.

Fortunately this particular Autobot didn’t have to worry about the bigger picture, not at the moment, not while he was carrying a dying Autobot on his back. He caught sight of First Aid dashing off towards the deceased Autobots. Kup grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. “Doc, there ain’t nothing you can do for those bots now, its too late. It isn’t too late for Warpath here though, I hope. You need to stabilize him and get him back to the Guardian. We’re gonna have a lot of wounded coming in and you need to keep it together. This ain’t the first battlefield you’ve been on, and I doubt it will be the last. Time to prioritize the living over the deceased.”

The Autobot gently laid Warpath down in front of First Aid before glancing over at Magnus. He was calling some sort of cease fire with the Cons. Apparently he’d missed quite a bit. Musket still in hand he jogged over to Ultra Magnus. “Cease fire or not I’m ordering all the wounded to bounce back to the ship Magnus.” He glanced over at the spot where Rodimus and the others had vanished. “I take it I missed something while I was trying not to get my aft blown off out there.”

*

Swindle’s shots didn’t do a whole lot to Ironhide as he continued to fall back. There were a few nicks, dents and scratches in his armor and he’d probably be picking out the shot from it for awhile but it certainly wasn’t anything debilitating. He took aim to return some fire at the Combaticon when his attention was drawn towards Rodimus.

His optics widened as flames erupted all over him and he declared himself ‘The Fallen.’ Ironhide had never been one for much of religion, myth or history and the Fallen was a little bit of all three of those. That said even he knew who the Fallen was and he knew he was nothing but bad news for all of them. Still, just because he had a fancy light show and a booming voice didn’t mean he was the Fallen. There could be a more logical explanation, he just couldn’t really think of one.

His thoughts were pulled away from the Fallen when he saw Hex and Darkride each move to attack a couple of newly arrived Bots. Ironhide was shocked to see them both brutally beat and rip apart both of their opponents. “Why you….you’ll both pay fer that!” The red Autobot charged at the Fallen’s little group, aiming his rifle right at Darkride. He was still hesitant to fire on Hex, him at least once being an Autobot, but Darkride was fair game. Before he could get a shot off, the Decepticon disappeared with the Fallen.

Ironhide let out a growl and punched a nearby tree, splintering it and sending it falling to the ground. He was still getting over the death of Optimus and now to have all of this heaped on top of it was pushing him pretty hard. While he wasn’t about to snap and turn against his fellow Bots he could certainly go for a hard battle against some Cons. He turned to fire on Swindle when Magnus called for a cease fire. Still, Ironhide hesitated, his finger on the trigger. With a snarl he lowered his rifle, but kept it ready as he walked over to join Magnus and Kup. He still had his old bodyguard instincts and so he made sure to be around the leader. If this cease fire went south he would make sure he got out safely.

*

Hot Spot frowned as Ricochet spit up more energon. The other Autobot was bleeding out pretty bad. While it would take a pretty severe injury for a Cybertronian to die from bleeding out it definitely wasn’t good to see it coming from the cranium. Still, the Protectobot had the utmost confidence that he would pull through under First Aid’s care.

Fortunately for the two Autobots by the time they left the cave everyone’s attention was elsewhere. Hot Spot didn’t waste any time, briskly jogging towards the trees where he knew First Aid was waiting. He could hear some shouting and there were plenty of explosions and gunfire but he was focused on saving Ricochet. His team knew that if they needed him that they should signal him.

The Protectobot burst into the forest still at a jog. He was surprised to have avoided any incoming attacks. Something big must have happened while he was gone to draw so much attention and fire. He wasn’t about to complain, but it still disturbed him a bit on one level. It wasn’t like the Decepticons had any respect for retrieving wounded or fallen comrades on the battlefield. Hot Spot was quite accustomed to running while under fire. This situation felt unnatural.

The Autobot came to a stop next to First Aid just as Kup left Warpath with him. Hot Spot grimaced as he saw Warpath’s condition. “Get them both stabilized and back to the ship ASAP First Aid.” The medic definitely looked shaken and Hot Spot knew something major had gone down. His thoughts were confirmed when Magnus ordered a cease fire.

>>”Protectobots, report in and rendezvous at my coordinates!”<< With the wounded now relatively safe he quickly turned to his next priority, that being his team.

*

Swindle was rather pleased to see some of his shots strike the injured Autobot. There was a slim hope that maybe she wouldn’t be able to keep going and he would be able to take a prisoner/spare parts. Of course that so rarely happened. Autobots were all too goody-goody and honorable then to leave a wounded comrade behind. It made the salvage business a difficult one at times.

Unfortunately his shots seem to have only wounded the Autobot and he had to frantically dive for cover. One of the shots grazed his shoulder, leaving a dark scorch mark and making him grunt in pain. He wasn’t a coward or anything, but he couldn’t just laugh off damage like Brawl and Onslaught could. This is why he was better as the brains of the team then the brawn.

He ducked back into the water to avoid any more incoming fire. He snickered as he got the signal from Ultra Magnus. The Autobot knew he was losing and was asking for a cease fire. Slag that! They would take them all down and there would be enough salvage to make a nice big profit off of.

Swindle was about to emerge from the water with guns blazing when Onslaught ordered the cease fire. Thoughts of salvage and profit disappeared as the Combaticon emerged from the water with his guns down and a dejected look on his face. It seemed like the universe was dead set against him making any sort of profit anymore.

*

Oil Slick observed events as best he could. While he was not eager to re-enter battle he was prepared once the Combaticons were satisfied with softening up the opposition. He had no weaponry remotely comparable to the likes of Brawl or Onslaught, nor was he a tactical expert. He was more then happy to let the Combaticon leader direct and control the battle. If he ordered him into combat he would do so but he was quite satisfied with waiting.

The order never came however as instead a cease fire was called. It was certainly an odd turn of events for both sides. The chemist did not full trust the Autobots or the situation, particularly after seeing Darkride dragged off as he was. He decided to hang back and observe, playing true to his scientific background.

*

Bottom of the Yellow Sea - Construction Site

Hook had finished the structural adjustments to Mixmaster relatively quickly. After just one experience with it he now found it easy work, perhaps something that could be delegated to a lesser technician. Certainly Scrapper could do it and maybe even some other Decepticons with half a brain. Of course Scrapper was busy and outside of him he was surrounded by morons and so he knew the work would all be his.

The nervous system and mental connections though, that was a worthy challenge. Each Constructicon was liable to have greater variance in these systems then their physical structures. Experience helped here but not as decisively as the structural work. He carefully made the adjustments, allowing for the combination with the others and a free flow of information through Mixmaster to the other components of Devastator. Had he more time Hook would have been tempted to tinker more with the other Constructicons cerebral circuits. Perhaps he could make the chemist a bit more stable. Alas such work would have to wait for another time.

The surgical engineer pulled his hands out of Mixmaster and began sealing him up. “The operation is complete Scrapper. We can begin reactivating him.”

On Shore

It wasn't too big of a surprise that Brawl's attempt to shoot down Blades with his main cannon had failed. However, the Combaticon tank found it odd that Blades' didn't live up to his reputation as a brawler who liked to get to your face instead of shooting your from the distance. In fact, the Protectobot withdrew from the battle, disappointing Brawl greatly. Not that he had time to curse after Blades' supposed cowardice. While Kup had forfeited his chance to attack Brawl and using the chance given to withdraw with Warpath's motionless body, someone else had been far more active - Streetwise.

A blast of compressed air hit Brawl's side just as he had been lining up for another shot at retreating Blades. The blast itself did little more than slightly sway the heavily armored Decepticon, making Brawl to lose his aim. That was merely irritating though. The blast had pushed hundreds of kilograms of sand, rocks and dirt into Brawl's tracks, filling every open space between the tracks and its wheels, effectively jamming them,

"You dirty slagger! You'll pay for that! I am gonna rip your wheels off one by one and them jam them down your exhaust pipe!" Brawl boomed and he began rotating his turret to track on Streetwise's movements.

The Autobot was quick but a car built for fast and precise steering on paved highways was completely out of its element on a beach, for Brawl could rotate his turret far faster than Streetwise was able to circle him. The only reason he was still moving was the fact that Brawl's wasn't really that good hitting moving target. Or rather, Brawl was to impatient to aim carefully enough. Even so, the sonic blasts the Combaticon tank was now firing at Streetwise were hitting closer and closer to their target now.

"You can run but you can't hide Streetsomething!"

Then came the command Brawl had difficult time to accept. He had heard Onslaught's initial demand of a secondary confirmation upon a fallen something. Who had fallen? And why he was supposed to care? He had not listened to his superior officer that well. But the later cease fire command just as he had been about to remove Streetwise from the battle for good? Just damned unacceptable.

>>"The slag Onslaught?! There are Autobots to kill! What threat could possibly top that?! "<<



Bottom of the Yellow Sea - Decepticon base

"Ah, excellent Hook." Scrapper stated as Hook reported his progress. "He seems to be responding well towards the new programming I upgraded his transformation cog as well."

"However it seems we are forced to take a pause after Mixmaster here." He added, shaking his head with some level of disappointment. "Bonecrusher and Long Haul are still on the field and I will not risk anything when it comes to our self-modifications. Without one of us two to oversee the other, the risks are simply too great in a highly stressful environment as this."

Scrapper turned his gaze from the monitors towards Hook, "Particularly the modifications our plans require to be made to both Long Haul and you are simply too extensive to be performed here and now. This battle needs to end before we can continue."



Skies Above

Slingshot's lack of air support had made it easy for Thundercracker to began tailing the Aerialbot. Being busy with Ramjet had made the Aerialbot sharpshooter susceptible of being attacked himself and no seeker would miss such of an opening. Particularly someone as good as Thundercracker was. He had had the target locked with air-to-air missiles ready to fly on a whim. If only Onslaught had not called for cease fire. Breaking off now felt just wrong but if anything - Thundercracker was a soldier and we would obey a command from a higher ranking officer even if Onslaught's jurisdiction over the seekers was rather shaky.

>>"Acknowledged Onslaught. Thundercracker moving in."<< He simply transmitted back to the Combaticon commander before transforming and landing to the treeline that Onslaught was already approaching by foot.

On Shore

It was all Streetwise could to do not spin hopelessly out of control as he raced to avoid Onslaught's volley. He had hoped to draw some fire away from the others, but this was beginning to become too much for the interceptor. Sand kicked up by the explosions that otherwise rolled off his streamlined alternate form was beginning to catch on his underside. Not good. If it continued like this...he wouldn't be able to move much less avoid fire.

Unfortunately, doing anything but continuing in a straight line was a challenge on this Primus forsaken terrain. It didn't help matters now that he had provoked Brawl. Streetwise grimaced internally when Brawl's furious tirade boomed across the beach. That...hadn't been his brightest idea. The sonic blasts from the Combaticon shook the beach and made large plumes of sand rise up in their wake.

"Oh slag! Slag, slag, slag!"

With each subsequent blast, they grew closer and closer to Streetwise. If he didn't think of something, he would be slag. He had an idea. More of a gamble really, but it was a better alternative than continuing on as he was. As Brawl spat his latest jeer at the interceptor, Streetwise decided to act. He swerved to the side, transforming and planting one foot into the sand to slow himself down. In the same instant, he brought his photon pistol around and charged it in the hopes that the next shot would blind Brawl and give him some time to make a hasty tactical retreat.

It was also in that instant that Ultra Magnus' call for a cease fire came ringing through the interceptor's audio receivers. The Protectobot froze with his pistol still leveled at Brawl for an astrosecond. Slowly, he lowered it, wondering why on Earth Magnus had called a ceasefire. Streetwise quickly realized that Brawl probably wouldn't honor the ceasefire and that the Protectobot was currently a sitting duck.

Hastily, the interceptor jerked his foot out of the sand where it had embedded itself and transformed, making his retreat back into the forest at the fastest speed that he could maintain control over. Hot Spot's call to report back in came not too soon after the declaration of ceasefire.

A sense of confusion came over the interceptor and left him wondering what had happened that would give cause to a ceasefire. The call also turned Streetwise's mind back to his teammates. He scanned the skies looking for Blades or Groove and saw with dismay that Blades was slowly falling out of the sky.

The interceptor turned toward his teammate and raced to meet him where he would touchdown in case he needed any help. As soon as Streetwise approached the treeline, he transformed and continued to jog in Blades' direction.

"Hang on Blades...you better not crash and burn, buddy."

Bottom of the Yellow Sea--Base

The first thing that Mixmaster was aware of were the slowly upward ticking readouts at the bottom of his optics. Energy levels and functioning servo mechanisms all appeared to be within their standard operating ranges.

He slowly pushed himself up and off the operating table and looked around. Truth be told, he didn't feel all that different. There was sort of a vague sensation that certain things weren't in the exact place that they had been prior to his going under...but nothing that he could precisely identify. What he did know was that anything that had been done was for the greater good of their little collective and he was only too happy to have played his part. Devastator would be worth far greater sacrifices than anything he had made thus far. Devastator would be the future.

"Everything, hehehe, um, everything turned out like you wanted?" Mixmaster said, looking over to Scrapper and Hook.

Shoreline

>>”Understood, Commander Onslaught. I’m on my way back down to the sea floor now.”<<

Long Haul cut his comm line to the Combaticon Commander as he turned back towards the Yellow Sea from which he had just come not even a breem ago. This confrontation with the Autobots had been very disappointing to say the least, ending with the revelation of the Fallen’s supposed return. It certainly seemed as though Hot Rod had transformed into something far more powerful than a mere Cybertronian, but to be the actual Fallen Prime of legend was a bit of a stretch. Still, Onslaught seemed to believe that it was the Fallen and therefore that’s what the heavy lifter would report to Scrapper.

Taking one last glance back over his shoulder plate, Long Haul could see both Autobots and Decepticons alike converging on an area near the treeline in the distance. The transporter had not been invited to the “party” and thus it was really none of his concern regardless of his curiosity on the matter. The decision on what to do next, with or without the Autobots assistance, was left to those of higher ranking. The heavy lifter had his orders and he intended to carry them out. At least he didn’t have to carry anything of substance this time.

“Come on, ‘Crusher!” Long Haul bellowed over to his belligerent comrade. “Let’s get back down to Scrapper like Onslaught said. There’s no more battle here, anyway.” With a snort, the green transport trudged back into the sea, allowing the disgusting salt water to consume him once more.

Bottom of the Yellow Sea - Decepticon Base

The long trek back down to the partially completed underwater base was an uneventful one, much like the battle on the surface that found both Autobot and Decepticon under a ceasefire agreement to discuss all things regarding the Fallen. It was still hard to believe that the Fallen, himself, had seemingly returned with a chip on his shoulder the size of Cybertron, itself. Not only that, but both Drag Strip and Darkride had joined his vengeful crusade against all Cybertronians along with two Autobots, as well. Were the former Stunticon and interrogator traitors to the Empire or were they under some kind of spell for lack of a better word? It didn’t matter at this point. All would be revealed in due time regardless of what the heavy lifter thought.

Entering through the outer dome, Long Haul made his way to where Scrapper and the other Constructicons were gathered. Approaching his commander, the green transporter offered a respectful salute before giving his report. “Long Haul reporting back from the surface, boss. The battle is already over in a ceasefire that both sides agreed to. Apparently, the Fallen has somehow returned in the body of the Autobot Hot Rod. He along with Darkride, Drag Strip, Hex and Hardhead have declared war on the Cybertronian race and disappeared into some kind of portal. Not sure where they went. Commander Onslaught is now meeting with Ultra Magnus to talk about what to do next. Bonecrusher and I were ordered to report back and inform you of the situation. Personally, I think we should just take out the Autobots now and worry about the Fallen later, but that’s just me.”

On Shore

Saferoute continued backing to the treeline as she reloaded her rifle, watching as one of her shots grazed Swindle's shoulder, causing the Combaticon to duck for cover. Any other day she would have taken some satisfaction from making a Decepticon cower and hide, but this was far from any other day. As she looked for another target to fire at, she heard the order from Ultra Magnus.

"Ceasefire?", she said to herself. Again, any other day she would have insisted that they continue taking the fight to ther Decepticons, making them pay for all the planet's inhabitants they had hurt. But this was not any other day. She had been made a complete fool, manipulated and then attacked by a bunch of traitors who now were nowhere to be found. It was only by Primus' grace that reinforcements had arrived to even things out with the Decepticons, and after the damage she had received she had to consider herself and the others fortunate that any end to the current hostilities could be brought.

I just hope those slaggers actually make good on it., she thought as she was slow to lower her rifle, watching the enemy carefully in case they tried to take advantage of the situation. To her relief the Decepticons were also willing to lower their weapons and end the current fighting, and so she reluctantly holstered her weapon.

She finally let her guard down as mechs from both sides gathered together, and noticed a couple of injured mechs being brought to First Aid. Her mind no longer occupied with keeping alive from Decepticon and Autobot attacks, she grimaced as the burning pain on her backside came to the forefront of her thoughts, followed by the piercing pain from Swindle's shot from just a few astroseconds ago. Looking down she saw the trickle of energon from the bullet hole in her lower torso, and place her hand over it in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.

Making her way to the Protectobot medic, it looked as though the only wounded were the other betrayed members who'd been led to this ill-fated surprise attack on the Decepticons. She looked down at Warpath, only to confirm that the crimson warrior's body was lifeless and headless as First Aid went to work. Then with a deep breath she looked at Ricochet who looked to be in stasis, almost as bad as the tank-former except for the fact that his head was still attached to the rest of his body.

So between the three of us, it looks like I was the lucky one., she thought with guilt, I guess Hex wanted to toy with me more than the others.

For now there was a sense of uneasy calm as it seemed the battle was over, for now. Saferoute wished that her two teammates were conscious, as she wanted to talk to them about what had happened, not to mention what was going to happen. All three would require repairs, though Warpath and Ricochet would require more extensive work than she did. But once that was done and they were all fully functional, there would be no sympathy for all the trouble they had caused, regardless of whatever Rodimus and others had done or planned.

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

Groove shook off his initial shock at Rodimus' further transforming, and started chasing after First Aid. Then came the order for a cease fire from Ultra Magnus, followed by the old war veteran Kup stopping the Protectobot medic and handing Warpath over to his care. Though the act of a cease fire would have normally filled the pacifist with great joy, there was little for Groove to be happy with, as he couldn't bear to look at the decapitated crimson warrior's body.

The end of one horror now, but who knows what horrors will be coming now?, the scout thought as he remembered the sinister new look of Rodimus. Though he couldn't quite put his finger on it, there was something vaguelly familiar about the former cavalier's monstrous new look.

Groove didn't have any time to think on the subject as he got the order from Hot Spot for the team to regroup around him. The scout didn't have far to go as he had stayed near First Aid when the Protectobot commander brought another wounded Autobot to be looked over.

"I'm here, Hot Spot.", the scout addressed his commander, "Still fully functional."

As it occured to Groove he looked himself over. Though he wasn't really hurting, his armor was covered in small dents and scuffs from all the debris he'd been hit with from Vortex's cyclone.

Thank Primus for Blades,, he thought, Or I'd probably be in pieces all over the place.

"Have you heard anything about what's happened to Rodimus and the others?", Groove asked, "Is that why Ultra Magnus ordered the cease fire?"

Shoreline

Astrotrain wasn't sure if his sensors were going glitchy or if he had actually heard what he thought he heard. Onslaught calling them to a ceasefire? What in the greasy slag had prompted that move?

Astrotrain rolled over on to his back, looking up into the clear blue sky as a few astroseconds ticked by on his internal chronometer before at last sitting up and ultimately getting to his feet, weapon still in hand.

The sound of weapons fire had died off. The firing had ceased. Astrotrain was honestly a little surprised, given that it was the Combaticons who seemed to be calling the shots out here right now, despite some of Ramjet's efforts. Speaking of Ramjet, where had he gotten off to? Astrotrain looked around but he couldn't immediately find the white and black conehead.

It was then that he remembered receiving some sort of garbled transmission from Blitzwing, indicating that he had got himself in to the same sort of predicament that A-train himself had. Glitching little Aerialbot got some lucky shots on them, that was for sure.

The mechs present seemed to be convening near the trees. That coincided with the location of Blitzwing's current energy signature, so that suited him just fine. Checking on his unit mate was still the priority, then he would see what exactly had prompted Onslaught's surprising call.

It didn't take him long before he found his fellow triple-changer, not far form where others, Autobots and Decepticons alike, appeared to be regrouping or convening.

"Not our finest day, Blitz," Astrotrain said with a smirk as he walked towards Blitzwing with a slight limp in his step. "But not our worst either. I still remember that mess back in Tyger Pax. We were lucky to come out with heads attached, heh."

Treeline

Ultra Magnus agreed with Kup's logical decision. Get the wounded out of here as soon as possible so they did not share the same fate of his two escorts. The Autobot Commander added one caviat to that directive, to have the bodies of the two Autobots coldly and mercilessly torn to shreds by crazed followers of a Fallen God, be returned to the Ark for proper ceremony and funerary rights. Quietly Magnus surveyed the battlefield. The Autobots had taken a beating, and though they now out numbered their Decepticon counterparts, at least so far as he knew... this was a fight that was not in either side's interest. And for these losses, he swore that the Thrown Down Prime would pay. Transgressions such as these, and others sure to come, could never be forgiven. A mistake I don't ever intend to make again. For that I am sorry Optimus.

A frantic and rather surprised Slingshot flew over head as Thundercracker appeared on his six. From Magnus's vantage, Slingshot had once again bitten off more than he could chew and got himself in over his head. Still, he knew from experience that the Seeker was not his squad commander. Thundercracker followed orders, much to his own personal dismay. There was much potential for the flier, if he ever turned his skills towards peace rather than the brutality of the Decepticon Cause.

"I would agree. We require a sharing of information Onslaught." He finally spoke into the terminal that extruded from his exo armor before deactivating the link and returning his rifle back to a holster located within one of the towering spokes. His optics narrowed at the scorched earth where five entities were engulfed in flame and taken by an unholy fire to the depths of the pit.

A sage counciled voice broke Magnus's train of thought as Kup approached from his left flank. "You could say that. I believe I have discovered why Hot Rod has been acting unusually." He paused briefly. His sensors alerted him to the approach of Onslaught. "And I can honestly say, no one on this field could have possibly seen it coming."

Quiestly as the entire assembly of able bodied mechs gathered into a tight circle of council, well a relatively tight circle given the eons of mistrust and tensions felt throughout the ranks, Magnus greeted Onslaught with open and unarmed palms. A signal that this was no longer a combat zone, they both knew the recent situation changes outweighed those old grievences. "Onslaught," he gave a curt nod towards the Combaticon Commander.

Magnus looked down at Kup, the Autobot Sage who had outlived nearly every Cybertronian outside of Alpha Trion himself. His optics immediately shot up towards Onslaught quietly telling the Decepticon through visual que alone that they all needed a ground base of information. And Kup was the perfect resource for Ancient Tales and Legends. "Tell me something Kup. What have you heard of The Fallen?"

On Shore

The appearance, and subsequent touch, of Kup had First Aid halt his advance out of the treeline toward the fallen Tonton and Bidder. The doctor wanted nothing more than to get to both mechs and save their lives. But even without Kup’s assurance that both were beyond help, First Aid still had the need to do something.

When the elder ‘Bot finally placed Warpath’s headless body down before him, First Aid knew that his attention needed to be focused on those who actually could be saved. He gave Kup a tight yet affirming nod before kneeling down and setting to work on the tank-former’s body. Just as he began his work Hot Spot arrived and placed an energon covered Ricochet down next to Warpath. First Aid let out a low sigh before he took a quick scan of the marksman and determined that he was stable enough to bounce back to the Guardian. Although with so much energon loss he wasn’t sure how long that would last. But first thing's first…Warpath’s wounds took precedence.
____

“Where the slag is he? Where’s that sleazy excuse for a ‘Con?!”

The battered and scorched form of Blades came limping heavily from the woods just beyond the cliffside where The Fallen and his lackeys had vanished from. The Protectobot flier was holding his right arm which seemed to be mangled and hanging on by nothing more than a few wires and the support of his left hand.

Although he was impaired Blades was still determined to finish what was started between he and Dirge. Ceasefire or not the Conehead was in his crosshairs.

At the same time the Combaticons complied with Onslaught’s orders, Dirge had turned from his prey…albeit with a low groan…and headed toward the meeting point. He quickly transformed and landed lightly behind the Combaticon Commander…of course leaving a wide berth between him and the already assembled Autobots.

The sound of Blades trudging out from the trees caught his attention. The look of the flier brought a wide satisfied grin to his face, but when Blades continued to advance the blue and gold Conehead raised his arms and began to power up his weapons. “Back off Blades and take your beating like a mech!”

Blades let out a deep growl and pressed forward. “I’m gonna beat you to within an inch of your existence!” But his advance was suddenly halted by a firm hand tugging on his still functional shoulder. First Aid was able to get Warpath stable and was ready to move his two patients back to the ship when Blades appeared. The medic needed to get his brother to go back with him as well.

“Let it go Blades. Right now you need medical attention. Come on.” First Aid kept his tone cool and even hoping he’d be able to squelch his teammate’s riled demeanor. It seemed to do the trick as Blades’ tense frame loosened and he staggered slightly into First Aid’s touch. “Fine. But this ain’t the end of it…not by a longshot. You better watch your back, ‘Con.” With the doctor’s help the limping disheveled mech was guided back toward the treeline where he was sat down and looked over.

Dirge sent another satisfied grin over to Blades as the Protectobot was helped back to where the pacifist loser had set up shop. They’d meet again and just like this time around Dirge would make sure he’d have the advantage and fight in the air.