The Energon Pub

Training Hall

Slingshot rubbed his jammed wrist briefly, a result of the gravitational change in the silcate's density. He hadn't expected the next level to be so blasted hard that he had to increase the reinforcement regulators located within his forearms. The sharpshooter and ground support flier spat a wad of lubricant into a spitoon located on the far side of the gym near the door. He activated the specialized restrictors and once again delivered a devastating heymaker to the bag's midsection.

As he withdrew his fist from the prolonged contact with the sack, his face still contorted with pent up anger, the doors began to release the locking latches. The Aerialbot rubbed his arm again and this time backed away from the swinging and damaged sack of denser silicates. "That supposed to be some sort of joke?" He scowled as he stepped away toward a large piston press.

He keyed in a pair of instructions and allowed the computer to cycle through to the protocols that best suited his unique frame requirements. Slingshot held no delusions regarding his personal capabilities. He knew he was the weakest of all of the Aerialbots, probably the most vulnerable and most likely least useful. He also knew that he was probably the most worthless of the Aerialbots, so worthless to the point that even his own commanding officer decided to back the instigations of another squadmember.

Such betrayal, in confirmed Slingshot's fears that even Silverbolt knew of how worthless he truly was. Dispite his best efforts the flier, he figured that once everyone knew the truth...

Slingshot took a position below the press and took hold of the two lifting bars. He spared only a glance towards Silverbolt before pushing upwards on the bars. He said nothing and just listened. Perhaps he would be of better value somewhere else, in some other theatre. Or, Slingshot thought to himself, he'd be better off turned into spare parts. That would at least serve the cause that his physical abilities and the obvious lack of faith in his combat abilities by his commanding officer could.

now healed from the injury he got from training, Air Raid thought that long time has passed since Silverbolt, Ironhide, Ratchet and the other Aerialbots have left to Iran, he figured that it's about time he started searching for The Aerialbots.

Air Raid heard a sound coming from the Training Facility. He ran towards the Facility in hurry, only to find Silverbot watching Slingshot training. " Silverbolt!, it has passed time since you went to Iran, what happened down there, did you kill any Cons? " He said in excitement.

Crew Quarters

The berth was small but Sideswipe still found a way to get comfortable…in his own way of course. Legs running vertically up the wall his back lying flat on the berth and his head hanging lazily off the edge. This was the best he could do. Besides, it was the most awkward position and therefore the most exciting. I can’t believe this slag. We’ve been here for like what, a whole vorn? There’s got to be something….

His mental whining silenced as he turned his head toward the opposite side of the room. From his vantage point Sideswipe spotted Sunstreaker sitting on the berth across from him. The golden mech had just put on one final coat of wax and was currently buffing the hazy residue in order to reveal the high glossy shine left behind. With his optics still zeroed in on his brother Sideswipe pulled his legs down off the wall and turned around so that his legs were now hanging off the berth where his head had previously been. The red warrior brought his hand up to his chin and gave it a thoughtful rub. After a moment a devious smile grew on his face.

Sideswipe finally stood up and nonchalantly made his way over to Sunstreaker. He lazily leaned against the side of the berth and crossed his arms over his chest. His face deadpan the red twin tilted his chin up indicating Sunstreaker’s work.

“You know Sunny, that buffing cloth? It’s really not doin’ the job anymore. In fact I don’t think any of them are worth the slag.”

Taking a step away from the berth Sideswipe connected both thumbs and both forefingers and drew them up to his optics essentially framing his brother as if he were a painting.

“I’m lookin’ at ya’ and I’m not seein’ that shine. That bright, slick, luster just isn’t comin’ out.”

He dropped his hands to his sides and gave his brother an honest smile. As honest as the red warrior could get at least.

“Sunny, you deserve the best, Primus knows you say it enough, and those trashy things aren’t worth your time.”

Sideswipe plopped down next to his irritable twin and threw is arm around his shoulder.

“Now, what if I told you I could get you a polishing cloth that would rival anything you’ve ever used before. Aaaaand what if I threw in some fantastic wax to boot.”

Commander’s Office

Kup’s optics almost blinked out during Prowl’s massive verbal information dump for Magnus. He never knew how Bots like Prime handled his infamous briefings so well. Of course Optimus had a long time to get used to it, probably along with the help of more advanced processors. Kup’s older systems just couldn’t handle it all quite as well, not without wanting to just shut down. Maybe he should talk to Ratchet about upgrading, but he didn’t want to hear the snide comments the medic would give him. He’d just have to hope Magnus was able to take it all in.

With Prowl finished Kup jumped in with his own information. “Shockwave was definitely looking for something on Cybertron. If I had to guess it was information on the planet’s recovery. He even went so far as to do research in Iacon, doing it under the condition of sharing his findings with us. I reluctantly allowed it with him under heavy guard. You’d have to ask Wheeljack about the info he shared with us. He should have shared it with Perceptor too. Aside from that we had a couple of scraps with Cons on Cybertron, but nothing major. The old Autobase is just this side of operational, but we shut it back down.”

The old Autobot sat back and sighed. “As for Hot Rod, I don’t know what happened to him. Something happened while he was cleaning out the old base, we put him in a CR chamber and he busted out of it looking like he does now. I’ve never seen anything like it before. Something has happened to him. Maybe the matrix chose him, I don’t know.” He grabbed his head for a moment before shaking it.

“Anyway, he is liable to cause some fuss about leading, along with Grimlock. I can guarantee you that he’ll be back with his team and be making leadership claims. The Dinobot barely respected Prime, I’m afraid you being here isn’t going to change anything with him Magnus. We’ll just have to be prepared for that.”

Kup was quiet for a moment before continuing. “I’ve seen a lot of good Bots fall in this war, and each time others have had to step up to fill that hole. Soldiers became squad leaders, squad leaders became officers and so on. This time we’ve lost Optimus and like it or not someone has to step up and fill that hole. You’re the only one who can truly do that Magnus, so its your turn to step up.”

*

Officer’s Quarters

Hot Spot was studying mission reports on his desk computer. He was bothered by how their last mission had turned out, bothered by the suspicious actions of the cons and bothered by Prowl’s orders. He needed this time to try and sort out his thoughts, but it wasn’t really helping. He felt more composed now but he was still troubled. Maybe getting back into the field would do him some good. He would have to bug Prowl about getting a new mission.

The Protectobot commander was brought out of his thoughts by a message from Groove. The message was troubling to say the least, especially since he wanted to discuss it in person. >>”Alright Groove, meet me outside the lab.”<< The Protectobot stood up, briefly checking that all his systems, including weapons, were online. If Groove was this worked up then something bad was happening. He quickly left the room for his rendezvous.

*

Crew Quarters

Sunstreaker was carefully buffing the coating of wax he had just applied to his armor. He always liked the pristine gleam he got from that third coating. Some Autobots hated that shine, but they were all just jealous. Some even complained that it drew fire in battle; that he practically glowed. He didn’t care. He wasn’t going to hide in the dirt and scrap on the ground. He was going to fight and beat his enemies head to head.

The warrior didn’t bother to look up when Sideswipe began talking. He simply continued buffing his armor, stopping to admire the sheen briefly before continuing. He continued for a moment longer after Sideswipe was done talking, just to make things a bit uncomfortable for his goofy twin. Finally, satisfied with the job he had done he placed the wipe down and looked up at the red Autobot.

“Since when do you care about my luster? And you know I am the best, so I get the best. The thing is this sounds like another one of your stupid adventures and you’re trying to drag me along. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that ‘anti-rust’ applicant that was an acid that etched into my armor, or that ‘never wear off’ paint you found on another world that was actually made from the excrement of a local rodent. I’m not going to get involved in one of your stupid adventures just because you are bored.”

Commander's Office

Ultra Magnus remained in a sober silence with his finger tips pressed tightly into a steeple underneath his chin. A vast amount of information was being transfered at one time, and the City Commander found it difficult though not impossible, to absorb the bulk of what the tactical officer was saying. The sheer volume was overwhelming and the starting detail made the rest even harder to take in.

The report of Prime's loss, or at least the more concrete details of the final moments of Optimus's function. Magnus forced himself not to look away from Prowl or Kup as well as tampted down any emotions that roiled below the surface. Optimus was like his brother, a twin of sorts. They had fought together and learned together, experienced life and death together. In the end it was Optimus who had proven to have the stronger struts, the stronger background and the higher potential... and it was he who had been selected to lead Cybertron through its darkest times.

It had taken Magnus the fraction of a moment to realize that he would not be good enough to accept the burden that had been placed on the shoulders of his brother. But he also swiftly accepted that while he could never live up to that expectation that had been placed on Optimus, Magnus could help take some of that pressure off of that titanic load. In the end he had expected Prime to be there at the very end, to be the one to fulfill the expectations of the Autobot Council. And now that fate, that burden would have to fall to another.

Prowl's next report segment immediately eliminated the candidate who had proven himself to be not only cunning and resourseful, but also as inspiring on the battlefield as Optimus had. Grimlock was a true battlefield leader, Magnus would never diminish that in anyway. However even he had his doubts to the overall effective capacity a mechanism like Grimlock would have when it came to dealing with the Autobots under his command during the long periods of inactivity that often dominated war. There were times where compassion and a ready audio receptor was more valuable to the cause than an ion blaster or energon saber. Ultra Magnus knew that listening to outside influences was not entirely Grimlock's strongest of suits. The theft of the Ark-19 only served to confirm that analysis.

Still Magnus remained silent. The investigation of the site of Prime's final stand against Megatron, or at least the report of said investigation, had struck him as a key detail. Radiation of a new form of energy. It raised question as to what sort of radiation or energy the Decepticons were investigating before their base had been destroyed. Magnus broke his position briefly and rubbed at his chin as the information was slowly processed by his interior computer matrix.

The loss of Prime still weighed heavily on his mind, more so to the point that he had almost let it overwhelm his attention subroutines. Resolved to push those emotions to the side, to mourn on his own private time, Magnus returned his attention to the final bits of detail that Prowl was giving. The dual strike on opposites sides of the world, it was too big a gamble for an energy strapped enemy. Not to mention if Starscream wanted to solidify power he would not have placed so much to chance on a large gamble. He would have to agree with Prowl's own assessment that there was a diversionary pattern somewhere within that particular tactic. Again questions were raised as to what was it that the Decepticons did not want them to see.

Magnus's attention was also grabbed by the metamorphisis of one of the younger more raw Autobot soldiers. Hot Rod had displayed no real enthusiasm for command, in fact he was probably one of the few Autobots who actively shunned the idea of a command structure. Magnus mused quietly at the thought given that most Autobots were not natural soldiers anyways therefore did not thrive in military structures. The thought of Hot Rod being modified into a mechanism calling himself Rodimus, Magnus was unsure how to react. Add to that, the thought of this new Rodimus incarnation vying for Command, it didn't seem right for the younger Autobot given his history.

Ultra Magnus pushed himself out of the chair that he had claimed at the beginning of this debriefing session. This was a lot to take in, not that he was incapable of doing so, but it was enough that he needed a moment to process it all effectively. The loss of Megatron had only served to disorient the Decepticons as they tried to settle their own command structures, that was only logical. Magnus stepped over towards a small viewing portal that gave him a view of the third blue, green and white planet which they orbited. He placed his arm against the wall at the top of the view port and allowed his optics to float down to the slowly spinning mass of white located in a large stretch of H2O.

He could imagine the froths of salt laiden foam on the surface of the large ocean below as the large storm crawled along its lengths. He rested his head upon his forearm as Prowl finished his debriefing. He doubted that anything of significance had been left out, Prowl was reliable in that regard. Magnus almost missed the tactician's plee, and had in fact wish he had missed it. "You want me to take command?" He questioned as he looked back at the current sector commander.

His arm dropped to his side and shook his head. "I thought I had been called here to help resolve the command structure here and perhaps further out..." He stopped and fell silent before he pivoted back towards the portal, his gaze again captivated by the massive spiraled storm down on its surface. Inwardly he imagined it as a universal representation of the mental storm that was now racing through his processor.

Kup's report soon followed, though Magnus had to admit at least to himself, he drifted in and out. He heard the further details regarding Hot Rod's transformation into this new entity calling himself Rodimus. Magnus refused to dub him a Prime, even in his own mind. That title belonged to Optimus until someone stepped up to earn it. How could anyone replace Optimus anyways? Was anyone worthy of such a task, surely Kup would not agree with Prowl's assessment.

He caught the details of their temporary truce with Shockwave. Investigation of some sort that Magnus figured would require further details further down the road, though that would have to come from the scientists and engineers rather than soldiers of the frontline. A mutual share of information was a rare instant during this long and brutal war, and Magnus held doubts as to how complete the share truly was. Shockwave was a being of logic, similar to Prowl, but unlike Prowl, the one eyed former Senator had little in the way of honor... at least from Magnus's point of view.

All in all it had become a cluster of chaotic events stemming from the disappearance or death of Optimus. Magnus pivoted back to Kup as the old warhorse finished his report. To his surprise, or perhaps to his regret, Kup mirrored Prowl's earlier statement about wanting him to take command. What gave him the right to succeed his brother? He was not worthy of such a position, the Council said so themselves. A mirror of the old guard. A successor to Sentinel Prime who could never succeed.

Magnus said nothing as he stepped passed the two Autobot officers and made his way towards the solid door leading toward the bridge. He deactivated the security locks on the door and allowed them to slide open while keeping the sensor and recording screens active. His optics swept over the bridge crew as it moved about with a lathargy that bordered on the depressed. Though he had managed to meet several of the officers at their current stations, more had arrived to fill in for the coming primary shifts. They all seemed some how defeated. "What makes them think I am worthy? How can I inspire these noble sparks to victory like Optimus?" His voice was low but still could be heard by those inside the elevated office.

He looked back at the operations well where Bumblebee and Nova Strike engaged in friendly though reserved banter. It pained him to see such a young mechanism so heavily burdened. Optimus had been his mentor and his friend for eons, and as like himself the loss was overwhelming.

As he was in his reverie, a pair of non comps who looked as if they were basic engineers there for scheduled maintance on the bridge systems looked up to him and for the first time offered satisfactory smiles. Ultra Magnus returned their ernest salutes and returned a reassuring smile. He could make out a notable spring in their step as they resumed their work on one of the sensor consoles. He wished he could have erased that visual from his optical receivers, but it had happened.

Magnus closed the door as he returned to the office and walked to the desk. The automated deadbolts locked as the doors sealed behind him. "I am not worthy to be Optimus Prime's successor Prowl. I may never be worthy of such a position." He paused and searched for his next words carefully. "The Council selected Optimus as the next Prime, the matrix made it official upon the confirmed death of Zeta Prime. Those facts are undeniable."

He spared a glance at Kup before returning his vestige to Prowl. "However, Kup is also correct in that we are always forced to fill roles we are not ready for. Especially at the least expected time. The disappearance of Optimus creates a void that cannot be left vacant. Grimlock's skills as a battlefield tactician and warrior are undeniable, however his actions prove the volitility that subverts his intentions. When the time comes his actions will be dealt with in accordance to our regulations and laws. As for this Rodimus entity, I do not wish to thrust such a burden upon the shoulders of a new lifeform. Regardless of who he was or is, Rodimus must learn to walk before he can run... as Optimus would say. Star Saber is on the far side of the Galaxy, as is Thunder Clash and Fortress Maximus. All suitable candidates for the role, but all too far away to aid our current situation."

Magnus paused again. His voice failed him, his confidence eroded almost immediately. He was not worthy, he knew he was not worthy. Why didn't Prowl or Kup just accept that fact? Why did they believe in him so much? For that matter, why did Optimus believe in him?... Optimus. "Perhaps in time I will prove myself worthy of both of your confidences in me. I will help however best I can. If it means filling this office until a suitable successor is found, then so be it."

His optics faded briefly before returning to standard luminosity. "I trust that I can count on both of you to nursemaid me through this transition. In return, I will offer you my audio receptors, much as Optimus did. I just hope that your faith and your proposition is not misplaced."

Corridor

As usual the Protectobot commander was quick to reply to Groove's request. The scout could have sent a non-verbal acknowledgement, but instead he made one more quick message.

>>Thank you, Hot Spot. I'll be there in just a few astroseconds.<<

Many Autobots would have gone straight to Prowl with information which may have been quicker. But given how much busier the strategist had gotten since Prime's disappearance, it likely wouldn't have gotten the same attention. That and Groove had too much respect for Hot Spot to go over his head, and a commanding officer's support would add weight to the situation.

Knowing better than to keep Hot Spot waiting, Groove transformed to his motorcycle mode. With his small size, manueverability, and familiarity with the ship's layout, he was able to easily traverse across the ship, something most other Autobots couldn't do in their alternate modes, and reached the door to the lab in almost no time. Not surprising he had made it before his commander, something he was sure Hot Spot would appreciate.

As he waited, he mentally went over what happened in the medical bay and the mess hall with Rodimus. Part of him wanted to believe that the mech formerly known as Hot Rod was sincere. Maybe Hot Spot would assure him that the scout was just overreacting, that it was all just a big misunderstanding. Maybe Rodimus had in fact consulted some of the other officers and had scheduled a meeting with Prowl. But the words, and the seemingly friendly smile, just continued to haunt him.

".....don't worry about Hot Rod, he's still here.", nothing about that sounds right. I'm not crazy, am I?

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

Mess Hall

Warpath would have been more than happy to punch the smug look on Howlstrike's face, until Rodimus came between the former Predacon and the crimson's warriors pal, Hardhead.

The self-proclaimed Prime's words sunk into Warpath's processors, making a point that he rarely ever thought of. He was so fixated on blasting Decepticons and then bragging about it, he never even thought about what he would do if the war ever ended. What good was a big, strong bot with a big gun if there was no one to shoot at? Well, if Rodimus said there'd be a place for Howlstrike, then there certainly had to be a place for Warpath in such a time of peace.

Warpath lowered his fists as both Howlstrike and Hardhead apologized to each other. Ruining the moment, he chuckled a little after hearing the green mech mention weapons in their hands, if only because Warpath always had a weapon and his hands were always free.

"WHAM, well maybe I got a little too hot there, Howl", the warrior said as he rubbed the back of his head, not too comfortable with making such an apology, "If Hardhead and Rodimus are fine with you, then BAM, so am I."

Saferoute watched with interest. Unlike the others she had never been a warrior by nature, only by need. When or if the war ever ended she would go back to helping animals like she had been doing for countless vorns before and during the war. Still, it was a nice relief that Rodimus managed to stop a fight from breaking out.

"I'm glad things have been settled and didn't have to get violent.", she finally spoke up to the others, "But that still leaves us right where we were. We don't know where the Decepticons could be, so where do we start?"

Mess Hall

Blurr had watched the subsequent events concerning Howlstrike and Hardhead with some concern. He didn't particularly dislike the former Predacon and when Warpath had joined the fray, it seemed like matters were about to escalate. Thankfully, Rodimus interceded and prevented a fight from occuring.

When Rodimus began to speak about a place for the warriors, Blurr glanced around as he listened and saw the hope reflected in the others' optics. After the war, Blurr would most likely continue his current function, and hadn't really given much more thought to it. The hope in his comrades' optics was infectious, however, and Blurr found himself beginning to believe in Rodimus.

Blurr moved closer to the gathering, looking over to Saferoute as she spoke. Finding the Decepticon based was still a concern. Blurr looked up to Rodimus for his answer.

Training Hall

"That supposed to be some sort of joke?"

Silverbolt wanted to say no, to try to calm the tempermental mech down but everything he’d done thus far seemed to be in vain. Instead he remained where he was, watching his subordinate moved from one exercise to another. How to make his team work? Silverbolt was already proud of what his team had accomplished under his tenure, but how to best to share his view without further alienating them?

The thought wormed its way through his processing protocols until Air Raid’s arrival startled him from his concentration.

“Silverbolt!, it has passed time since you went to Iran, what happened down there, did you kill any Cons?”

Silverbolt made a mental note to check with Ratchet about upgrading the Aerialbot’s inter-team com system to warn him of any approaching. After a brief pause he smiled at Air Raid, his enthusiasm was a change of pace from his own thoughts and Slingshot’s moodiness.

It wasn’t his duty to report to his subordinates, but he would never lie to them. In a moment of divine intervention he sidestepped to give Air Raid a better view of Slingshot. “Not too good I’m afraid. I was forced to crash land thanks to Dirge.” The memory brought an increased flow of energon to Silverbolt’s optics, causing them to glow bright. “Slingshot gave them all they could handle, I’d better let him tell it. I’ll probably leave out an important event.” Without another word, Silverbolt turned and continued down the hallway, thanking Primus for his aide. An idea was beginning to form on helping his team become more cohesive, he just needed to talk with Prowl or Ultra Magnus.

Air Raid watched Silverbolt as he left the hallway, without giving much details about what happened at Iran he told him that he should ask Slingshot, as he is much more easy-going then Silverbolt. The Aerialbot was worried if he bugged his leader by asking him about Iran, it seemed like he was concentrated with something, maybe with thought.

The Autobot walked towards Slingshot, he felt that he was also worried about something.

''Hey Slingshot, i thought you will never return from Iran, I asked Silverbolt about what happened there but......there was certainly a lack of detail, he only told me that you were forced to crash land because of Dirge and you gave "them" all what they could handle. So what exactly happened there ?'' Asked Air Raid.

Commander’s Office

Prowl remained quiet as he watched Ultra Magnus stand from his chair and move to the portal that revealed the planet below. The City Commander clearly had much to take in and consider, especially the idea of assuming command of even a fraction of the Autobot army. Magnus seemed surprised by the request of both Prowl and Kup but did not outright reject it. Instead, he eventually made his way to the door that lead out onto the bridge. There he watched through the still active security screens as the other Autobots went about their normal functions. Magnus rhetorically asked about his worthiness in their optics and whether or not he could inspire them. It was a question that required no answer, but it was one that the military strategist decided to give anyway.

“You’re a more worthy leader to them than I am,” Prowl responded in a low tone, keeping his gaze fixated on Ultra Magnus. "I can't inspire those mechs to follow me to victory, but you can. That's why you're here." The black and white knew that his words had not fallen on deaf audio receptors even as Magnus continued to watch the activities of the bridge. Finally, the City Commander closed the door once more and returned to the desk where Prowl and Kup remained seated. As the analyst listened to Ultra Magnus once again speak of not being worthy enough to fill Prime’s vacated position, Prowl began to wonder if he would need to beg in order to get Magnus to take the job, or at least to assume control of the Autobots within the Sol System.

Thankfully, Kup’s words had seemed to guide the City Commander to the appropriate conclusion. Magnus was the right mech for the job regardless of whether or not he thought he was ready. His list of reasons were solid. Grimlock was too violent and Rodimus was too young to take on such tremendous responsibilities. Furthermore, other mechs that were just as qualified were not close enough to render the assistance that was required sooner rather than later. No, Magnus knew what he had to do and he seemed to finally accept that fact.

Prowl felt a sense of relief, letting a slight smile creep onto his faceplate, as Ultra Magnus reluctantly agreed to assume the leadership role of this group of Autobots until another mech was found that could fill the position better. The City Commander followed that up with the assumption that Prowl and Kup would guide him through the difficult times ahead, promising to listen as much as Optimus had done. The black and white let out a muted chuckle as he rose from the chair behind the large desk.

“I can assure you that our faith is not misplaced, my friend,” Prowl responded, allowing his smile to completely fill his faceplate as he rounded the desk to stand beside Ultra Magnus. “And, of course, both Kup and I will help you in any way that we can, not that you really require it, but we’re here nevertheless.” The military strategist placed a gentle hand on the City Commander’s shoulder plate and nodded his approval. “Since you are in agreement, I hereby transfer command of the Autobots within this sector to you, Ultra Magnus.”

Prowl then removed his hand and stepped back to give the new interim leader room to move by him if Magnus chose to do so and take a seat in the chair behind the desk that the strategist had just vacated. “I believe this seat is yours now, Commander.”

Med Bay

Jazz was smiling with a bright look on his face, disguising the horrid secret he kept for Prowl. That smile soon faded when Ratchet's fury was suddenly directed at Jazz. A wrench flew from Ratchet's hand, and if it weren't for Jazz's fast acting reflexes, he wouldn't have been able to catch it.

"Jeez Paul Sr., chill out!" Jazz stated while listening intently to what the CMO was asking Hoist.

Jazz's hand lowered slowly with the wrench in tow. His smile was no longer present, but was replaced with a dire look of concern directed at Hoist. He walked to his friend and pat the green mech on the shoulder.

"Don't do it..." Jazz whispered to where Hoist could only hear him.

And before Ratchet could say anything, or throw, for that matter, Jazz walked out at a brisk pace.

I need a drink. Pronto. Jazz thought as he began to make his way to the Mess Hall.

Mess Hall

Near the doorway, Jazz heard some shouting from inside. It sounded like Warpath. Knowing how high strung the Tank can be, Jazz quickened his pace to a jog to see if everything was okay.

Upon entering, in rather a rush, he found everything to be calm(ish) and Hot Rod, or at least what looked like Hot Rod, standing between Hardhead and Howlstrike. Warpath was among them, but it didn't look like he was the antagonist.

Relieved, Jazz decided that he should listen to the conversation. It looked like Hot Rod was... Gaining followers? Something about being afraid of the future? Everyone has a place in it?

Jazz ignored his fellows and strode across the room for his primary goal: The Energon Substitute. Utter garbage compared to his other drinks, but he didn't care. If it got his mind off Prowl and keeping his secret, he would take it.

While pouring his drink in the small shot-glasses of cups as they were, he remembered the speeches that Megatron himself gave near the start of the Decepticon Regime. They were benign at first, but when things ventured to starting a raging crowd, Jazz refused to go to any more. They were exactly how Hot Rod was sounding.

Jazz sat down at a table and nursed his drink while taking a keen ear to what Hot Rod was saying nevertheless. He wanted to know if he was right.

Infirmary

A small chime on the repair bay doors snapped Ironfist out of his seemingly prolonged respite. His optics flared to life with a surprising new intensity, a flash of power he had not had since the entire ordeal with the Ark 19 had begun. Radiation damaged areas were now by passed like a Cybertronian Illumination Spruce and while it allowed the weapon engineer to return to full cognition, Ironfist had now doubt it made First Aid's job a bit more tedious than it needed to be.

Coming in to restore natural pathways was always a processor numbing task for most any medic, it was another of the myriad of reasons why he chose the path of the engineer.

Ironfist allowed his domed head to swivel towards the door and let out a rather relaxed and stable sigh. "I do believe the door is unlocked. And so far as I can tell, its occupants are rather composed at present." He chuckled briefly sending his body into a slight jiggle.

The doors slowly slid open to reveal a pair of crates and a blue hemispherical shape behind them. A single voice piped up from behind one of the forward boxes located tightly packed on the anti gravity sled as it pushed over the threshold. "Hello... umm," The smaller Blue Green minibot stepped out from the cart with a nervous look upon his face. "Umm, I am looking for the Chief Medical Officer of this particular establishment."

The minibot pulled out a data slate that contained the medical supply manifest. "Commander Magnus requested me to bring these crates to the infirmary."

Ironfist's optics narrowed at the minibot as he uttered the words of the City Commander. "Magnus? As in Ultra Magnus?"

The minobot shifted as he approached the work space where First Aid and Ironfist were in the middle of the delicate procedure. "Yes Sir, Ultra Magnus ordered me to bring these new supplies here from Liberty. I do hope I am not in the wrong location."

"Whats your name?"

"Dice Sir, Pilot First Class. Best Shuttle Pilot in the Autobot Navy."

The Weapon Engineer's optics swiftly darted towards the Protectobot Medic. He nodded briefly out of surprise. He wondered exactly how the doctor would react to the new arrival, and more importantly the new supplies that were being infused to their depleted stores.

Training Hold

Slingshot hefted the massive block of titanium dead weight towards the heavens. He held it there and paused, allowing his pistons to rest from the strain of the initial set of lifts. His optics darted towards Air Raid and Silverbolt as they lingered towards the threshold of the main entrance to the small training facility of the Guardian.

He really did not want to get sucked into pointless banter about the last operation. In fact he resisted the urge to drop the weights where they were and begin telling the truth about how Silverbolt had managed to cower behind a large sand dune while Dirge bombarded him from the air. Though if he had to be honest with himself, Slingshot doubted he would have fared better. He knew he was worthless, he feared that everyone knew that much as well.

But when Silverbolt had actually given him praise about his efforts, Slingshot's resistance failed him. The sharpshooter allowed the weights to clack against the metallic supports as he walked towards the two flight specialists and teammates... the latter he really did not care to admit to in public. Air Raid was, in Slingshot's opinion, too crazy to be a viable member of society anyways, too stupid to know when to be afraid and retreat from a battle he couldn't win. Though probably why he was so well respected by the other dumber Autobots.

"Yeah, I was there. I sent that scrap heap coward Thrust straight into the heart of the Dune Sea. Even gave that after polisher Ramjet a good beating." Slingshot began to build momentum to cover his failure to add Ramjet to the list of those joining to the All Spark. "If it weren't for me, the entire operational team would have been devastated."

His optics swept towards his team leader. "Course if Fearless Leader had voiced even more support for me when the time came to defend said operation..." He left the accusation hang in the air. He knew Silverbolt knew what he was hinting at and why it needed to be addressed.

Slingshot accused Silverbolt for not voicing enough support for him, Air Raid knew that something strange was happening with Slingshot, but he wasn't sure.

''So, it seems like i have missed the fun, huh? good work blasting cons, Slingshot'' said.

Air Raid sucked air into his internals, glancing Slingshot for a moment.

''You know Silverbolt, he always was the harsh and fearless leader, and he will continue to do so''

Air Raid decided to keep his thoughts about Slingshot for himself, and headed to the mess hall to get a few drinks.

Commander's Office

Ultra Magnus hesitated. His fingers pressed firmly against the polished obsidian finished desk that had until recently separated himself and Prowl. His optics were transfixed on the swiveling chair that was anchored to the floor just behind the slab of titanium. It was temporary, he knew that, but it still did not make it any easier. The City Commander... no, perhaps that title was too limiting now though inwardly Magnus was satisfied it filled the function he was more accustom to, so he refrained from adjusting the function to that of Sector Commander. The City Commander turned the corner of the desk in the symbolic change of command and stood on the commanding officer's side of the desk, his optics fixing on the sight of Prowl and Kup as the two were now side by side.

It felt different, he knew on the exterior that this simple action was more for the benefit of those two and others who would recall rumors or envision some grandiose ceremony or celebration of Magnus's rise to command. But it was nothing more than that, except for Magnus. For him it just felt plain wrong, as if he were usurping his brother's memory. Still all he could do now was to accept the consequences of his actions and endure the haunting memory of Optimus Prime.

He laid his palms on to the surface of the desk and lowered his optics. Even without seeing it, he could feel the weight being carefully lowered onto his shoulders. The entire sector and perhaps the very success and fate of the cause now rested with him. Magnus allowed his fingers to scrape against the desk as they clinched into solid unyielding fists. A few seconds he released them and stood tall.

"Very well. Computer. Log time of transfer of command, Sol Sector. Ultra Magnus Zero Zero Two Delta." The hidden receiver recognized the voice command and immediately began transferring registries to its new commanding officer.

As the computer did so, Magnus looked at Prowl with a furrowed optical brow. "At present I recommend dispensing with the standard pomp and circumstance regarding the transfer of command and focus on the tasks at hand. I doubt the Decepticons will remain idle, regardless of their internal feuds. If what you say is true, they will most likely pursue research and refinement of this new super energy ore. Which would mean we are not their primary concern at present."

"And so long as that ceasefire is still in effect with Shockwave, as per Kup's report, I do not intend on wasting it idle either." He stopped and pressed the index finger on the embedded control module on the top of the desk. A small holographic sphere of the planet Earth emerged from the ether. It rotated twice before zooming in on the Andes Mountains of the South American Continent. The most remote and inhospitable location on the planet outside of the polar region, where the extreme colds would have hazardous effects on Cybertronian life as well.

"I was reviewing the topography as well as the various population densities of the indigenous life forms of this planet while in route from Liberty. In doing so I have found this region offers the better conditions of low population density as well as potential resources. Prowl I want you to work with Silverbolt and devise a scouting grid of this region. Construct a check list of criteria for a potential landing site for construction of a small outpost on the planet."

For the first time and perhaps unconsciously, Ultra Magnus took a seat in the chair behind the desk. His fingers pressed together under his chin briefly as he thought of other potential options. "Once that has been constructed to your satisfaction, I would like to review it before actual deployment of that particular operation. In the meantime, we must also assume that even before the battle at the Decepticon base, that Megatron had initiated the next phase of planetary infiltration. If that is the case then I want us to begin reviewing possible counter infiltration strategies to be employed on the surface."

Mess Hall

Ricochet leaned back in his chair with both feet up on the table in front of him, crossed at the ankle joints. His optics were off-lined, but he was acutely aware of everything that was going on around him in the mess hall. Rodimus and his followers were the ones most notably in the room while other stragglers came and went as they pleased. No one even acknowledged the gunner’s presence let alone came over to offer him a friendly ‘hello’ or a ‘how ya doing?’ It was not surprising, of course, as Ricochet was hardly the type of mech that got along well with others. His reputation preceded him and most knew to simply avoid the expert marksman and his foul temperament whenever possible.

Ricochet’s last assignment was helping out the repair crew of the Ark-19. It had not been his first choice of volunteerism, but it seemed a better alternative than just loitering around the Guardian with absolutely nothing to do. He and the others had successfully gone down to the surface and managed to get the ship back into orbit alongside the Protectobot frigate. Ricochet had been of little assistance most of the time, finding the mundane task of repair work to be beneath him and his true capabilities. Once the 19 was docked with the Guardian, Ricochet wasted no time in abandoning the repair crew and making his way across the docking tunnel before heading to the frigate’s mess hall.

For a while it had been quiet in the mess hall. Ricochet had his fill of energon substitute. It tasted terrible, but it topped off his fuel cells nicely. Then he just kicked back, off-lined his optics and imagined he was anywhere more exciting then here. At least until Rodimus and his group had entered and the flame-covered mech gave his speech. From everything Ricochet could hear, most of the ‘Bots seemed to support Rodimus with the notable exception of the ex-Predacon called Howlstrike. The gunner had no love whatsoever for the tracker, seeing Howl as nothing more than a war criminal just like the rest of the ‘Cons who had yet to have justice bestowed upon them. Still, Kup had vouched for the hunter, claiming he was reformed, which was the only reason the marksman let Howl continue to function.

Finally, once the heated exchange between Hardhead and the former Pred had died down, Ricochet on-lined his optics and turned his head slowly in the group’s direction. He removed his feet from the table they had been resting on and brought them down to the floor. The gunner then stood from his chair and strolled across the room towards Rodimus and his followers. He stopped a few feet shy of the gathering and let out a light chuckle. “If you bunch of slaggers expect to take on the Decepticons by yourselves, then you’re going to need someone who can shoot straight each and every time.” Ricochet paused a moment, pointing a single actuator at his own chestplate. “That would be me.”

Corridor

Delta twirled down the hall, datapads in hand, skipping and leaping in time to the music in her head. Having just completed her research into Earth culture, the powder-blue femme had all the time in the world to do whatever she wanted. Meaning Delta could get from place to place however she cared to. Delta cared to dance.

In any case, the cultural liaison was having the time of her life.

The blue bot looked out a small window at the planet below. The only thing that could make this moment better were if Delta was able to experience the Earth instead of just reading about it. The one thing she wished Prowl would change would be to allow her to go down to the planet. Delta longed to discover more about the culture of the place. Sadly, that would probably never happen. Not yet at least. Delta would have to settle with reading and imagining until the fateful day she was able to reach the Earth.

Speaking of reading and imagining, now what was she going to do? Delta had finished her research, and unless Prowl asked her to write a report of her findings, the powder-blue femme had as much time as she wanted to do whatever was her fancy.

Hmmm... What to do, what to do...

Then an idea struck like a lightning bolt. What was a better activity than doodling? And Delta knew just the place to do it.

Crew's quarters

Delta walked in and stopped short, spotting the two mechs who were already there.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something? I just came in here for a quiet spot to doodle. If I'm intruding I can leave."

Commander’s Office

As Ultra Magnus moved around the corner of the desk to take his proper place as Sector Commander, Prowl sat down in the chair beside Kup and listened as Magnus accessed the computer and logged the transfer of power. It was done just as the military strategist had hoped. Perhaps one day Magnus would accept that he was not just fit for command of this sector but of the entirety of the Autobots, as well.

Ultra Magnus wasted no time in getting down to business, not wanting to squander the supposed cease fire that Shockwave had agreed to while on Cybertron. Of course, the two battles that had recently transpired down on the Earth’s surface seemed to indicate that said cease fire was long over, Prowl made no attempt to correct the City Commander as there were more important things to be concerned with at the present time.

When Magnus activated a holographic display of the planet beneath them, the black and white leaned forward to get a better look, paying close attention to the area known as the Andes Mountains which stretched along the entire western coast of the South American continent. This was where Magnus intended to construct a small outpost on the surface in an area that was both isolated and uninhabitable to most of the native population. Prowl listened to the new interim leader’s instructions carefully before leaning back in his chair and rubbing his chin guard with his first two actuators.

“Mmmm, it appears to be a good place for a new base, Commander,” Prowl stated plainly as Ultra Magnus finally took a seat in Hot Spot’s old chair. “Although, it is a very large area to cover, stretching across several countries in the southern hemisphere. Regardless, Silverbolt and I shouldn't have any problems creating a scouting grid to help narrow things down and determine the best location for said outpost. However, if I may make a suggestion, sir. Why construct a new base from scratch when we can simply land one that is already built?"

Prowl's optics locked with those of the City Commander's as be prepared to elaborate on his idea. "Before the Ark-19 had been damaged in an aerial assault, it served as our Earthbound base of operations for many solar years. Until the Dinobots hijacked it, the plan was to fix the 19 and then find a new place on the surface to relocate it to where the ship would once again serve as our outpost. Of course, things have since changed, but we still have two vessels here in orbit. I suggest that once the area in the Andes Mountains is fully scouted and secured, we land the Guardian there and make it our ready-made outpost, maintaining the Ark-22 as our orbital hub. Doing this would save on time, resources and mech power and also allow us to focus on counter infiltration strategies all the quicker as I agree that the probability Megatron did, in fact, initiate the next phase is not only likely but also logical.”

Prowl stopped for a moment to let Ultra Magnus digest everything he had just proposed. The military strategist kept his tone respectful as he had already begun to nurse-maid the new interim leader along. The black and white didn't mind, of course, and hoped that his influence would be felt for some time to come. “As for what strategies we could adopt, we were previously attempting to locate the Stunticon frigate, Ultrax, in order to strike at the Decepticons first while they were still reeling from the loss of their own leader just as we were. Unfortunately, we were unable to find it as the ‘Cons did a good job in covering their tracks. We could reinitiate that plan, but I’m actually a bit more concerned with what they are doing down on the planet below. With the Constructicons at their disposal, they have likely already begun building a new base of their own. Learning the location of their headquarters would be beneficial but not of immediate concern.

“A more primary concern at the moment is the strong possibility that the ‘Cons have moved on to phase 2. If that is the case then they may already be creating tensions between hostile nations that could have dire effects on the native population as a whole. I suggest we closely monitor all data transmissions - television, internet, radio - for any signs of political destabilization around the globe. Also, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to put together some scouting teams and deploy them to a few of the larger nation states and energy rich regions that would be likely targets of future enemy attacks.”

Prowl paused and took a deep intake of air into his systems. There was so much to consider it was almost overwhelming and he hadn’t even brought up the possibility of refining the new ore before the Decepticons had a chance to do the same. “One last thing, Commander Magnus. Perceptor is currently studying a sample of the new ore down in his labs. We should get an update on his progress and see if it would be possible for us to process the ore into a stabilized form of energon that we, ourselves, could replicate and potentially use in battle against the ‘Cons. I feel it’s imperative that we learn the secrets of this new found energy source before the enemy does or we risk being placed in a serious disadvantage.”

Training Hall

Having accepted Streetwise's recommendation, Blades, accompanied by his team-mate, made his way to the training hall. A lull had smothered the Decepticons and their schemes in recent times and while that was positive to an extent, it was not entirely welcome. With no current information at their disposal, the Autobots' best bet was to remain on high alert and respond immediately to any suspicious activities that popped up.

The lack of action in the interim did Blades no good at all. He needed to be in the thick of battle. Needed to be duking it out with someone, caving their face-plate in, each strike increasing in strength and ferocity. And needed to be tearing a Decepticon a new afthole. Definitely that last part.

The sigh Blades released was one containing far more exasperation than despair or weariness. “Probably told you this already, Street, but this fragging sucks. The 'Cons picked a fine moment to hide in their hole again.” He frowned. “I really wanna have another crack at them, especially those idiot Battlechargers.”

During his last mission, Blades had come this close to arranging Runabout's termination, a set of vivid images of his demise prematurely featured in his mind as a treat. But by some deranged miracle, Runabout survived the ordeal. The ridiculous moment then became nothing more than trash to Blades, the memory dumped in the farthest reaches of his core processor where, with any luck, it would decompose and cease to exist.

“Speaking of idiots...” Blades was suddenly aware of looking at three of the Aerialbots using the facility. “There's one right now—my buddy, Slingshot.”

Training Hall

Streetwise was glad that Blades had decided to join him. If he knew Blades, the bot would be chewing at the bit for some kind of action. Blade's exaggerated sigh and proclamation confirmed what the interceptor already knew. Streetwise smiled and clapped Blades on the shoulder companionably. "Ah, you'll get your chance, Blades. Those 'Cons won't stay quiet forever."

In all honesty, Streetwise wanted to be down on the ground as well, but for different reasons. He wanted to track down Optimus, or, failing that, his remains. Streetwise refused to give up hope on Optimus. The interceptor needed to know the fate of their leader, and at the same time, he was almost afraid to know. He knew that if he asked to be sent down there, he would probably get denied. Streetwise let out his own sigh, two parts exasperation, one part resignation.

Streetwise looked over to the Aerialbots as Blades pointed them out. He looked at Blades sidelong with a chuckle, then turned a smile on the Aerialbots. "Hey guys."

Training Facility

Air Raid was about to leave the Training Facility only to hear Streetwise greeting the Aerialbots. His optics swiped towards Streetwise, The bot turned his head towards protectobot. Looking at his light smile.

''oh, Streetwise, i didn't notice you'' Air Raid greeted.

The Bot once again felt that people around him were worried about something, much like Slingshot, Blades seemed to be thinking of something, he was worried about it, Air Raid wasn't sure of anything, he felt it was better to keep his thoughts for himself....for now.

''Sooo....how are you?'' asked The Aerialbot.

Crew Quarters

Sunstreaker’s observation concerning Sideswipe’s interest in just how he appeared came to quite a shock…well not really….but he still wanted his golden twin to believe he care. So instead of arguing Sideswipe feigned shock and hurt at his brother’s biting words.

“Oh Sunny please! I have always been concerned about your appearance. After all the happier you are the more you’re appreciated. And not just by me…the others too.”

Lie. Complete and utter lie.

The red warrior removed his arm from around his sociopathic brother and too a hold of his head fins and turned Sunstreaker so that he was looking directly at him.

“I already know you’re the best, Sunshine, but you don’t look your best.”

Not wanting to be the brunt of a backhanded slap, Sideswipe quickly released Sunsreaker’s head fins. No need to push things that far. Now with his hands back at his sides the smile on the red twin’s face oozed of innocence. It just happened to be that not even Sunny could resist that look.

“Sunny, Sunny, Sunny. You may think this is one of my crazy fun adventures, but right now I’m thinking of you and your happiness. I mean look at the job those ratty old buffing cloths did. It’s a shame, an out-right shame I tell you!”

The mention of a few of their past outings put a smile on Sideswipe’s face. The same smile that just seeped with sincerity.

“Now Sunny, you know that anti-rust applicant would have worked perfectly if you had followed my instructions on just how to use it. Granted I dragged you along to acquire it, but you were too excited to listen to what I was telling you.”

His brother’s next statement nearly caused the red warrior to burst into a hysterical fit of laughter, but he was able to keep it reigned in. Shaking his head in an attempt to cover his building outburst, Sideswipe explained his actions as best he could.

“Ah Ha! You can’t deny that that never wear off paint worke! I mean you remember how long it took you to get it off! It truly was ‘never wear off!’ So much so that you had to be re-painted…so you can’t get me on that one. I delivered.”

Sideswipe crossed his arms over his chest looking as smug as possible. But his demeanor melted when he realized he would have to work just a bit harder to convince his twin to go along with him.

“Look, Sunny. This could be the best opportunity to get off this crate and come across some action. I mean, wouldn’t you rather be planet side pushing your engine to its limit? To actually be in a place not so confining. And will it be so bad if we come across something that even you could appreciate?”

Sideswipe stood up from his brother’s berth and looked down at him. The smile that had worked over his features vanished as he gestured to the quarters with an expanse of his out stretched arms.

“Come on Sunny. I need to get outta here….you need to get outta here. I mean we’ll go down there, get those fantastic buffing cloths and wax and come right back. Please Sunny. If I don’t get out of here….even just for a little while…I’m gonna blow a gasket! And then I’ll flip out!”

The desperate mech wa just about to get on his knees to beg his golden twin when someone entered the quarters. Sideswipe cast a gaze over his shoulder and flashed the interloper a disgruntled sneer. But he answered the femme anyway.

“Yeah, ya actually are.”

He turned his attention back to his brother and shook his head.

“You see what I mean. This place is too fraggin’ cramped!”

Another look over his shoulder and Sideswipe let loose.

“I think it’d be wise to find another ‘quiet place’. Or we could find one for you! And it probably wouldn’t be pleasant.”

Bridge

In a war zone Freeway knew his job was simple, he would have his fellow Autobots believe otherwise but to him it was straight forward. Plant bomb in Decepticon ammo-dump, intercept Decepticon communications, rig computers to malfunction. Piece of energon-cake. Maybe he only believed it was easy because it was his function, something he was meant to do and few other Autobots had the natural creativity that would make them so good at the job. Plus he had tremendous job satisfaction, he loved his work, except when Decepticons tried to kill him, that was never funny.

Sabotage was simple, being cooped up on a starship for so long was not. Here he was simply putting his skills to maintenance, low-level maintenance at that, apparently no one trusted Freeway with the main systems of the vessel. They hadn't even had Decepticon comm traffic for him to de-code at least none that had been passed to him. There was no job satisfaction in it at all. So of course Freeway had to create his own.

He allowed himself to plan and scheme and think up of ways just to introduce some measure of fun on board Guardian but so far he had drawn a blank, it was like the very vaccuum of space was sucking away all his creativity. By Primus, when was the last time he had managed to pull a prank on someone?

Freeway knew he had to sort this out and fast. He was getting as rusty as Wideload's paint job. Unfortunately duty called and he had to deliver a maintenance report to the bridge. Sure it could be filed digitally but maybe a walk would inspire some mischief. Probably, Freeway sighed.

The grumbling Throttlebot walked onto the bridge, flung the report at some helpless mech and went over to the communications console where Nova Strike and Bumblebee, “Tell me there is something to do other than replace the broken parts of a malfunctioning door? I'm not the first to go after battle but there's got to be some Decepticon activity down there or maybe all those satellites are transmitting in a unique algorithm that will need me to crack? Oh hi there Big Yellow, I didn't see you there,” he said to Bumblebee as if noticing him for the first time.

Commander's Office

"I would concede that point Prowl." Magnus spoke after giving the recommendation some thought. Having the Guardian, a frigate that would serve well as a scout but would not stand a chance in the pit against a Battle Cruiser or its escorts... which Magnus figured would be the case given Shockwave was supposedly in system, serve as the first hub of the settlement or outpost he was slowly starting to envision. It would be easier to conceal on the surface than the Ark-22 and its smaller signature made it more difficult for the Decepticons to pin point during its descent. He also agreed with the unspoken point that should the worst arise, the Guardian would be able to lift off from the surface faster than any of the Ark Classification.

Ultra Magnus paused briefly as he brought up a computer terminal from a hidden compartment embedded in the desk top. His electronic signature immediately opened a vast array of files that required the attention of the commanding officer of the system, sector and probably even the cause. It was no wonder Prowl had been quick to rid himself of the title, beyond the true rings of his words regarding his discomfort interactions between most Autobots. "In the meantime, I will talk with the engineers personally regarding the designs of a covert outpost on the planet surface. Preferably subterranean and self sustaining. I do not want to risk the Decepticons nor the local inhabitants locating this new post."

The computer terminal logged into the fills that had been logged into the Ark-22 data burst packet that had been sent to update the Guardian upon its arrival. His optics quickly skimmed the information regarding the events of Cybertron as well as the specific radiation readings that had been acquired during the investigation of the destroyed Decepticon Fortress. Magnus made a note to cross over to the 22 and reconnect with those of the Cybertron detachment and possibly gain some more insight as to what this mysterious energy source was and could mean to the war on either side. For all he knew at this very moment, Shockwave had already found a way to refine this new mineral and began mass production.

The terminal then flicked over to other reports that required his attention. Finally after a few moments of silence he stood up from the commanding officer's chair. It spun around once before settling on its bearings. "This scouting mission is important Prowl. I am confident that you are aware that we cannot stay in orbit while the Decepticons work to reestablish their claims of succession. I intend to use this time to establish our own advantage. You are dismissed to this task Prowl, report when you and Silverbolt have completed mission planning."

Finally his attention turned to Kup as he dispatched Prowl to undertake the planning of a vital operation. The very nature of scouting for a landing point was simple and though vital could have been left to sensor teams from the Guardian or the Ark-22. However that did not accomplish what Ultra Magnus required. While he needed the details of the territory he had designated for exploration and investigation, he also needed a reason to begin to get pieces back onto the board. And though this was not a combat operation, he knew Silverbolt well enough to know that the Aerialbot commander would welcome a change of pace. Besides that the planet that loomed low below the view portal held a great many mysteries. Not a scientist nor historian by nature, his time with Optimus had given him an appreciation of those particular schools of thought. Knowledge of the local planetary history would serve to help in its defense, at least that was what Prime had once told him Deca-Cycles ago.

"Did you have anything to recommend Kup?" As he stepped away from the desk and again over to the view port, this time his optics spying the smooth contours of the Ark-22's prow as it hung at the farthest end of a docking boom. "I believe it is time I make a return to the Ark. I am eager to learn what Perceptor and Wheeljack have managed to learn from this mystery that Shockwave has provided us." He looked over his shoulder.

"Of course you are welcomed to join me. I intend to take the long way around however."

Training Hall

Silverbolt made it partway down the corridor when he heard Slingshot’s account of what happened. The excitement and cockiness in the young mech’s voice was music to his receptors. Even when his subordinate tried to get a rise out of him Silverbolt’s smile never faded. Someday the kid would understand he was supporting him and that Blades and other only tried to goad him into a confrontation. On second thought, it was a talk the two would have to have in private. Preferably after Slingshot cooled down some more.

Deciding on that as the best course of action, Silverbolt continued until he heard a familiar voice. It couldn’t be? Oh slag it is. Blades. At first the Aerialbot commander planned on going to defend his group but the memory of his previous attempt at doing just that flashed through his processor.

Another idea began working its way through his processor. Maybe there was a way he could make a point and keep the peach. Hoping his new idea worked better than his previous ones, Silverbolt turned and strode back the way he came until he stood behind his team members and rested his hands on Slingshot and Air Raid's shoulders. “We haven’t been together as a team for a while, how about a good workout to make sure the joints aren’t getting rusty?” He locked his optics on the two Protectobots, “What do you say guys? You want in? There’s always room for more.”