Peruvian Valley - Destroyed Base CampRewind set the remains of the medical drone down on the ground and gave Bumblebee a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry '
Bee. We'll get you patched up somehow. Hang in there," the tiny archivist said with his usual cheer. Of course, then Hound had to go and contradict his reassurances by coming to the conclusion that Bumblebee had to return to the Ark to get it fixed. Prowl of all people interjected and mentioned something about a combat medical unit.
What was all of this going to kill a god business? Was Chromedome on board the
Longevity? Rewind cast his optics skyward, able to make out the speck that was to be their transportation. Knowing Chromedome, he would be on that shuttle. Excited to throw his life away for the sake of a few cheap thrills. The thought sent a wave of irritation through the cassettobot.
Rewind was drawn out of his grumbling musings when Nova Strike appeared and offered him and Bumblebee energon rations. Rewind took his gratefully, nodding at the ranger. Opening a small storage compartment on his leg, Rewind drew out a bendy straw - his favorite, which had little loops - and stuck it in the canister, sliding it behind his faceplate to ingest. Rewind gazed up at the skies along with Nova and Hound, optics locked onto the form of the shuttle.
Domey...Rewind's optics trailed back down to the group of Autobots collected in the destroyed base camp. He noticed Silverbolt correct Fireflight for attempting to reach Ultra Magnus. It made sense to the archivist. He usually let Blaster handle that sort of thing. Why Fireflight would circumvent Silverbolt was beyond him.
Unfortunately, Fireflight took the reprimand rather poorly and threw a tantrum, shouting at his superior before flying off. Rewind found that particularly odd. Fireflight had been pretty mellow the few times that the archivist had come into contact with him. What had made him so high-strung?
"Uh...shouldn't someone...do something?" Rewind asked no one in particular.
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Shuttle Longevity - InteriorGetaway watched with dismay as Smokescreen actually attempted to hold a conversation with Skids. The escapologist tried to speak up, say something, give some indication of what doom the diversionary tactician had just unleashed upon himself, but it was too late. Skids had already replied. Getaway rested his fingers on either side of his optics.
It was only the intervention of a familiar voice that saved Smokescreen from his fate. Prowl. Getaway stifled a sigh of relief as Skids ceased his monologue. Thank Primus for Prowl. Wait. Prowl? Getaway turned his faceplate at Skids only to find that the theoretician was already looking at him.
“Prowl. Well. I would suggest this mission is about to get a great deal more interesting. Though what develops afterward is certain to be even more so …""Indeed," Getaway said with a nod, "Oh, by the way..." Getaway leaned in close to Skids as if to share a secret. His optics darted over to Jazz and Smokescreen before glancing back to Skids. At his side, he clenched his fist and brought it up suddenly to Skids' chin as his optic ridges flattened to betray a rather perturbed disposition.
"
Bomp. That's for driving Smokescreen away," Getaway leaned back in his seat before continuing, "Look,
Skids. I'm going to need your head screwed firmly on your shoulder plating for this one, ok? This are big odds we're going up against and I need you at one-hundred percent. Got it?"