The Energon Pub

Research Labs

Rodimus had slowed his gait in order to keep in step with the small group that had decided to take up arms with the self-proclaimed Prime. Along the way and perhaps due to his magnetic personality…a wide grin…that is what would have been seen had the faux Autobot given into his indulgence.

It seemed as though he gained the trust of a femme….how interesting. A very rare breed indeed. Saferoute was now interested in the opportunities he could provide. Ricochet, also, added himself to now seemingly growing army.

With the assistance of his two heralds this group of cannon fodder would be guided in the proper direction and quickly locate what they were so eager to find. The Decepticons’ planet-side location. The bloodthirsty group would get what they desired while he gained his last two heralds. Win win.

Your plan will not work! If I can’t stop you someone else will!

Mmm. And who might that be young one? That drooling abhorrent excuse for a Cybertronian?

He already can see right through you. Don’t underestimate him.

Rodimus stopped before the sealed doors to the research labs. He paused for only a moment before accessing the keypad and entering the security code. With a familiar hiss the doors split down the center and slid to either side granting him, and his followers, entrance to the spacious room.

I underestimate no one; least of all a defective Transformer. If Howlstrike continues to hinder my master’s plans then he will be eliminated…in a most foul fashion. And you will bear witness.

Once the silence settled in Rodimus stepped to the center of the lab. He knew the former Predacon was in close proximity, as he had been during their entire trek. The red and orange mech took a look at the available terminals before turning around to face his followers.

“I promised all of you that we would locate the Decepticons, but in order to do that I need your assistance. I know there is no place on the surface of that planet that our enemy can hide. All we require is one sign, one shred of evidence that they are, or were in a specific location…My friends, I leave the rest to you.”

Rodimus took a slow step toward the group and place a hand on Warpath’s shoulder. His other hand came to rest on the shoulder of the newly arrived Ricochet; a bright smile greeting the smaller mech.

“Hardhead. Take a group to one of the terminals and perform a thorough scan and search of Earth’s Western Hemisphere. Spare no area.”

With that order provided to his first herald Rodimus turned his attention to Howlstrike. He gave the wolfformer a warm smile before he stepped in close and laid his hand on the former Predacon’s shoulder.

“Howlstrike. Why don’t you take the remainder of our group and station yourselves at that terminal…”

He motioned to an adjacent work station and then continued.

“Check the Eastern Hemisphere. Leave no stone unturned and think outside the box. The Decepticons are resourceful; never underestimate what they can and will do.”

A broad mental smile met his host resulting in a low groan from the young mech.

Taking the opportunity handed to him, Rodimus squeezed Howlstrike’s should holding him in place. His smile grew wide as he leaned in to speak into the fanged mech’s audio.

“I’m glad you took the time to contact Kup about this group’s activities. Our old friend should be kept abreast of the situation. Although I resent his accusation that my actions are ‘more youth idiocy’.”

Rodimus let out a low chuckle but remained close to Howlstrike’s audio.

“Oh, and his concern about me leading this group off ship, that my friend is well founded. I intend to locate the Decepticons, and in turn, take the fight to them. However, his concern with my ‘going off half cocked’ is unfounded…please let him know that.”

The flame covered mech moved away from the Predacon turned Autobot and flashed him a smirk. He then gave Howstrike’s shoulder a firm squeeze before adding one last thought.

“I will be listening. Now why don’t you head to that terminal and start that scanning.”
____

From his location Hex had watched the entire proceedings paying close attention to anything and everything Rodimus had to say. Whatever came out of the mech’s mouth made perfect sense to the youngling.

He watched closely while his master gave out the order to the others within the group…Hardhead taking a few followers and scanning one half of the globe and Howlstrike utilizing the remainder of the group and scanning the other half of the planet.

While Rodimus spoke privately with the wolfformer, he silently provided his young herald with his own set of orders.

Join him Hex. I want him to be the one who locates the Decepticons. Guide him to them. Open his eyes.

Yes master.

Once he noticed that the two had separated, Hex silently moved in and addressed the former ‘Con.

“Come on ‘Con. I wanna find the rest of your friends. I got a score to settle with ‘em.”

Hex gave the larger mech a hated sneer.

“And if we don’t find ‘em, don’t think I’m not above using you as a surrogate.”

With a snort, Hex shoved past Howlstrike and stopped at the terminal Rodimus had indicated the fanged mech would be occupying.

“Move it. We don’t have all vorn!”

Medical Bay

His work completed with Ironfist, and hoping the engineer would follow the discharge instructions, First Aid busied himself with finishing up the patient file and then settling in to clean his tools and organize the med bay’s storage cabinets.

It was during his organizing that Air Raid entered the area and requested for a medical check. With Ratchet still caring for Hoist, and Axle off on his own, it was up to First Aid to see to it that the Aerialbot got that exam.

“Why don’t you head over here Air Raid. Take a seat on the berth and I’ll have a look at you.”

Air Raid looked around him seeing First Aid who just completed his with Ironfist.

“Why don’t you head over here Air Raid. Take a seat on the berth and I’ll have a look at you.” said the Protectobot

Air Raid's Optics shifted to First Aid, he then looked to the berth, he walked slowly while his minds were filled with thought's about Optimu's current state, Air Raid started to think he "owes Optimus his life" but maybe it's just a stupid idea.

The Aerialbot sat on the berth, now only awaiting First Aid to start checking Air Raid, the only thing he should do is to relax, and not move while First Aid is doing his job.

He soon started to think deeply about this whole Optimus problem, why does he care for Optimus so much? what's the point of it? why he wants to find Prime, they could just make us a new Prime, what's the point Optimus being so important for him....Air Raid received more questions and no answers.

Infirmary - Ratchet's Office

Ultra Magnus stifled something of a smirk that threatened the corner left edge of his lip as he pressed the access panel to the medical facilities that had, for the largest portion of his time on board ship, been the primary focus of activity following the events of Kansas and Iran. During his brief walk between the bridge and the infirmary, Magnus had swiftly reviewed the reports from both Hot Spot and Ironhide regarding the two separate battles and eventually came to the same conclusion that Prowl and the others had. His brief conversations with his current adviser, Kup, had also been informative. Slowly he had settled on the idea of resuming command of his old seat, albeit indirectly. He suspected Springer would object to being relegated to the shadows once he returned. Thus Magnus also settled to accept the role of an over all commander rather than the micro manager Prowl would have preferred.

Still as he allowed the doors to slide open to his digital access code, Magnus received the communique from Ratchet. He did not bother to respond over the line, there was little point given his proximity to the Chief Medical Officer's defacto office. His optics swept over the quieting chamber as droids worked silently to scrub down the walls and floors removing spilled energon, lubricants and other fluids that would eventually stain the features of the room during trauma surgery. He took note of Air Raid as the Aerialbot flier approached the ship's primary surgeon, at least primary relative to the situation, First Aid.

Magnus turned his head to look at Kup briefly. He said nothing but his look expressed the impression that he was pleased that the Aerialbot team was already filtering back into combat status. It appeared to him that Silverbolt had already begun the preparations necessary for an extended mission and had ordered his team do do likewise. Optimus may have chosen a solid squadron commander to accompany him to this planet after all. He returned his optics to First Aid and offered the medic a brisk nod of approval before turning towards the main office.

His palm pressed flush against the security panel that separated Ratchet from the realities of war, Magnus could empathize with the need for such refuge. The locks gave way to his request with audible clicks and the door retracted into the jambs. "Ironically Ratchet, I wished to visit with you as well old friend." His face was expressionless, a true Syclade Card Player's dream. What he required from the doctor would not take long, so to be summoned by him only fit with his scheduled tour. "Perhaps our topics for discussion are of mutual benefit," the door slid closed behind him and his adviser.

Bridge - Science Station

“Freeway, huh?” Prowl responded to Silverbolt’s suggestion of adding the expert saboteur to the mission. Not only did the Throttlebot know the ins and outs of setting up booby traps to cause maximum carnage, but he also had the ability to intercept and decode enemy transmissions and then relay false ones back to lead the ‘Cons astray. He would indeed make a worthy addition to the ground contingent.

“That’s an excellent idea, Silverbolt. I didn’t even realize he was on board the Guardian before you brought him up. All right, so we have your Aerialbots to cover the skies and Freeway, Bumblebee, Nova Strike and myself to handle the surface operation.” Prowl paused for a moment and turned his attention back to the main monitor in front of him where the 3D grid model of the Central Andes in Peru was almost finished. As the military strategist’s actuators glided across the keys, additional details were inputted into the model until it was finally to his satisfaction.

Once that had been accomplished, Prowl drew out a datapad and connected it to one of the terminal’s ports. He then commenced the download of the grid map, which took only a few astroseconds to complete. Following that, the black and white added the roster list of the mechs that would be a part of the operation, five in the air and four on the ground. A compilation of the previously mentioned factors were also included in the mission plan. “There, that should about do it I think,” Prowl muttered aloud as he completed his report. He then looked over to the Aerialbot Commander once again and gave him an appreciative nod. “If there’s nothing further you wish to add, Silverbolt, then prepare your team for departure within the cycle. In the meantime, I will deliver this report to Ultra Magnus for his final approval.”

Prowl wasted no time in opening a comm line to the City Commander: >>”Commander Magnus, this is Prowl. Silverbolt and I have completed the mission plan to scout the Andes Mountains. We have narrowed our focus to the Central region located within the nation-state of Peru and created a detailed grid map of the area. Factors such as climate, accessibility, isolation, energy and mineral deposits were all taken into account. Ground and air teams are on stand-by. I am transmitting to you a copy of my full report for your perusal and await the go-ahead for our departure.”<<

Research Labs

Once Kup’s communique was received, Howlstrike sent a non-verbal acknowledgement to his long-time friend before continuing onward towards the research labs with Rodimus and the others. The former Predacon managed to swiftly maneuver himself past everyone and arrive at the head of the pack where the flame-covered mech had just stopped in front of the lab doors and entered a security code. Access was quickly granted to the group as the self-proclaimed Prime lead them inside.

“I’m glad to see that you caught up with us, Howl,” came the voice of Hardhead as he walked up beside the tracker. “I know that you don’t believe in Rodimus right now, but you will. Give him a chance. He just wants what’s best for all of us.”

“Perhaps,” Howlstrike responded as they crossed the threshold and fully entered the labs. Before the wolf-former could say any more, Rodimus had stopped and turned to address his followers once again. He laid out his plan of finding the Decepticons down on Earth by initiating a scan of each hemisphere. Hardhead was to take half of the group to one terminal while Howlstrike, himself, was to take the rest to another adjacent console. The war veteran acknowledged his assignment with a respectful nod, but the former Predacon’s reaction was the exact opposite.

“Wait, you want me to do what?” Howlstrike’s question was one of shock and disbelief, a feeling that only became more amplified when Rodimus leaned in close to him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. The words that the former cavalier spoke conveyed that he somehow knew of Howl’s communique with Kup and even the old timer’s demeaning response. The hunter glared back at Rodimus, a look of astonishment plastered across his faceplate.

That look quickly turned into a scowl as Howlstrike reached up and took hold of the fiery Autobot’s hand and removed it from his shoulder. “I don’t know how you were able to listen in on my private conversation with Kup, Rodimus, and I don’t really care. Listen all you want. It won’t stop me from reporting on your activities. However, you must be crazy if you think I’m capable of scanning an entire hemisphere. I’m not exactly a techie, you know. I can barely work an access pad let alone a computer terminal and advanced scanning equipment.”

Howlstrike then heard Hex’s voice coming from behind him as the young ‘Bot was eager to find the Decepticons and settle some scores. His follow-up threat was an idle one at best and caused the tracker no concern. Howl simply let it slide as the smaller mech pushed past him and towards the terminal where he demanded that the former Predacon get a move on. “I’ll be there when I’m good and ready!” The hunter snapped back at Hex before returning his attention to the self-proclaimed Prime.

“Fine, I’ll do my best. But I make no promises, Rodimus. A cyber-rat is more likely to have success than me,” Howlstrike relented as he moved away from the object of his scrutiny and finally sat down at the terminal where an impatient Hex remained waiting. Ignoring the young mech, the Autobot tracker stared at the keys for a moment before he began to sporadically type, hoping that something worthwhile would happen. Instead, only weird symbols and images appeared on the screen with no real results forthcoming.

Howlstrike let out an audible growl of frustration as he slammed his clawed fist down next to the keyboard. “I don’t know what the slag I’m doing! Hex, if you want to find those ‘Cons so badly, I suggest you take over before I break this fraggin’ thing!”

The former Predacon’s difficulty with a simple scanning assignment caused Ricochet to laugh out loud from across the room where he had quietly remained since he first arrived in the labs. That silence from the expert marksman was now over. He couldn’t help it, and he didn’t care if the tracker heard him or not. “You see that, Warpath? Stupid ‘Con can’t even work a computer. Ha ha! I say we stick with Hardhead. We’ll get actual results with him.” Ricochet motioned for Warpath to join him as he walked over to where the green warrior stood. “All right, big guy. Let’s do this. We should be able to beat that moron over there to the punch.”

Hardhead looked down at the smaller, black mech and smiled. “This isn’t a competition, Ricochet. We’re all on the same team and want the same thing here.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s just find those fraggers so we can finally get off this cramped frigate and see some real action!”

“All right, follow me,” Hardhead replied as he lead his half of the group over to their assigned terminal that was adjacent to where Howlstrike was still having his difficulties. Sitting down, the war veteran brought up the western hemisphere on the main screen in front of him. Hardhead then initiated the scan, utilizing the planet’s own system of satellites to help widen the range of the signal. Of course, he was careful to cover his tracks so not to draw any unwanted attention from either the ‘Cons or the indigenous population on the planet below.

“How long’s this gonna take anyway?” Ricochet asked as he stood beside the green warrior. “My trigger finger is itching something fierce and when that happens, well, mechs tend to get shot. Know what I mean?”

“Patience, my over eager comrade,” Hardhead replied. “We will soon find the action that you are so desperately seeking.” As his words trailed off, the green soldier’s gaze fell on his fellow herald across the room who was helping Howlstrike in locating the Decepticons. It would surely make Ricochet very unhappy when the tracker ultimately succeeded in his assigned task. Of course, that was irrelevant as the will of Rodimus took precedence over the feelings of a disrespectful gunner.

Lower Decks - Cargo Hold

Deep within the bowels of the Guardian’s cargo holds, a lone figure sat perched atop one of the many heavy containers meant for holding excess energon or other such vital supplies. Slag good it did them having this much carrying capacity on their frigate. Energon was usually on short supply. The grand majority of the containers were empty. The left heel of the Autobot banged dully against the surface, a hollow ring resounding through the empty hold. An equally hollow sigh was expelled past the protective face plating that covered his mouth. This was not how Crackdown had wanted to spend his energy while awaiting reassignment to Ark-22. Having secluding himself away from most of the others, the Autobot vanguard was largely unaware of the various situations arising aboard both the Guardian and Ark-22. There was little a mech with his humble technical skills could do that another aboard the frigate could do more efficiently. The best thing he could do, he surmised, was just stay out of the way for the time being. Oh, he could have spent his time in the mess halls, drinking, but that would do no one any good. His optics narrowed slightly. Given how long it’s been since the frigate was aware of the other ship’s presence in the solar system, a docking tube even connecting the two, the vanguard should have heard something by now. He opened a private channel with the perceived superior officer aboard.

>>”Prowl. This is Crackdown. Has my reassignment to Ark-22 been finalized?”<<

Not waiting for a response before setting off on his own, he took a small leap onto the grated floor plates below. The haunting sound of his landing echoed throughout, as if he were aboard a phantom vessel. For a microsecond, he imagined seeing decrepit and rusting metal husks stepping out of the shadows, living memories of those he killed… or didn’t save. A blink immediately dissolved the play of light and darkness, becoming inoculate shadows once more. Scoffing dismissively at his own dark thoughts, Crackdown made his way towards the decks above.

They’re dead. And none of them are coming back.

Surgical Suite

Hoist lay quietly on the slab and listened to Ratchet's counter-argument to the mechanic's earlier justification of Prowl's orders. Truth be told, Hoist had only said those things in an attempt to calm down the worked up CMO, though that attempt had clearly failed. The mechanic had already thought exactly what Ratchet was saying, so he simply nodded his head in agreement as the scanners did their work.

Just as Ratchet was going on, he stopped himself. Hoist wondered what could have happened as he saw the medic's expression turned to surprise, then to anger.

"What is it, Ratchet?", Hoist asked, though the medic ignored him.

The mechanic could do nothing but watch as the CMO walked over to one of the prep tables, and wonder.

It can't be anything wrong with me, I wasn't hit that hard. Did Prowl send him a message?

Though he already knew that his injury was minor, Hoist felt some relief when Ratchet gave his diagnosis. But dispite the good news about his own health, he couldn't help but worry as Ratchet never turned around to look Hoist in the faceplate with the news.

"Ratchet, please tell me what's wrong.", the mechanic asked as he slowly sat up.

Ratchet again seemed to ignore him and went to his office, telling the mechanic he needed to make a call.

Carefully standing up, per doctor's orders, Hoist went to the CMO's office door and tried to go in, only to find it was locked. The mechanic sighed, it seemed that Ratchet wanted to be left alone. Whatever it was that bothered Ratchet, it seemed to weigh on the CMO quite deeply.

"I guess I'll just have to follow doctor's orders. I'd be quite the hypocrit if I didn't. Ha....heh."< Hoist said to himself, trying to cheer himself up.

The mechanic exited the surgical suite and went to the CR chambers, activating one of them. As the chamber door hissed open, Hoist opened a comm link to Ratchet, not sure whether the medic would listen or not.

<<Ratchet, it's Hoist, you don't have to reply if you don't feel like it. But just know that whatever is bothering you, whether it's the whole business with Prowl or not, I'll be more than happy to lend a friendly audio receptor. I'll be recharging now, but contact me whenever you feel like talking.<<

Hoist stepped up into the waiting chamber. Once sitting back in the proper position, the door shut. The chamber starting it's work, Hoist noticed out the window a large red, white and blue mech walking into the medical bay just before his optics went offline.

Wait an astrosecond, is that Ultra Magnus?

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

Research Lab

Warpath laughed as Ricochet slapped him on the back as they walked with the others into the lab. Though Ricochet had started out on the warrior's bad side earlier, Warpath had actually enjoyed talking with the gunner as they walked down the corridors.

"WHAM., it don't matter how shiny my armor gets. It'll be a lot shinier than the scrap metal that BLAM will be left of the Decepticons when he find them!", Warpath gladly replied.

Once in the lab, their leader addressed them once again, then layed his hand on Warpath's shoulder. The warrior looked up to Rodimus. The large flame-covered mech had a plan that Prowl never would have considered, and Warpath was sure it would work. As long as he and the others did as Rodimus said, there was no way they would fail.

Once the assignments were given, the crimson warrior made his way over to his new friend Ricochet, and his old friend Hardhead. He chuckled a little with the gunner over the former Predacon's difficulties with the computer, but he quickly quieted himself as Hardhead pointed out the obvious; this wasn't about who found them first, it was just about finding them.

Going over to the computer monitor, Warpath stood just behind the other two bots. He wasn't an idiot, but he was far from being a computer expert, so he simply watched.

"POW, all right, so where do we look first for those slaggers?"

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

As usual Saferoute was at the back of the group. She wasn't offended when Blurr moved up ahead- seeing just how fast and energetic he was, she couldn't blame him, especially since she had always been one of the slower bots.

Walking into the lab along with the others, she heard Rodimus speak once again to the group. Finding the Decepticons on the planet wasn't going to be easy, it never war. But Rodimus had faith in them, and that made the task seem all the more doable.

She watched some of the larger warriors went with Hardhead to scan the western hemisphere. For some reason she couldn't understand, Rodimus had put the former Predacon in charge of searching the Eastern Hemisphere.

I suppose it takes a 'con to find a 'con., she reluctantly thought.

Before long the young mech Hex made his way to the monitor, impatient and rude as usual, taunting Howlstrike. Saferoute's attention was especially caught when the hunter made a remark about cyber-rats. A sneer came across her face; unlike the vast majority of their kind, she loved cyber-rats; well, at least she did before the war, before they become much more aggressive and deadly. As Howlstrike fumbled around with the computer, seemingly punching in keys at random, she scoffed and went to the computer he was at.

The two Autobots in this group I like the least, what are the chances? Might as well make sure they get things right.

"I had a pet cyber-rat before the war, and you're right. She had a much better chance of finding the Decepticons than you do.", she berated Howlstrike as she stood behind him, "Not that you care, but I named her Wirewhiskers."

The large femme reached her arms over the hunter and entered in a few basic commands. The useless images that Howlstrike had brought up blinked out, and was replaced with a topographic map of Earth's Eastern Hemisphere. After thinking for a moment she typed in a few more keys, which brought up another map of satellites orbitting the planet. Standing back up straight she scratched her head for a minute.

Slag, what do I do next? I need to be careful not to be detected by the humans or the 'cons, but how?

"Slaggit, I'm not a communications officer, I don't know how to hide the scanning signal from others.", she said in a huff, before looking over at Hex with reluctance, "Do you?"

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

Corridors

Yes, YES, I got you now you little....

It took every nanobit of restraint to keep Red Alert from quickly grabbing Razr out of Sunstreaker's giving hands and dashing off. Slowly, calmly he reached his hands out to take the turbofox away, when suddenly the red twin Sideswipe, jumped in and took him instead.

"SIDESWIPE!?! WHY YOU-", Red Alert shouted, but then caught himself and did his best to calm down, "I mean, why did you do that, Sideswipe? I didn't mean the little fellow any harm."

Though staying as composed as he could, Red Alert couldn't help but fume and glare and the red warrior, and not just because he was holding Razr.

Right, of course you would get in my way wouldn't you, Sideswipe?

When it came to the twins Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, most Autobots tended to like Sideswipe and despise or fear Sunstreaker. But Red Alert was different. Sure, he knew that Sunstreaker was a sociopath, and a potential security risk countless times, but that was just business as usual for the security director. No, it was the red twin, Sideswipe, that bothered Red Alert the most. He may have been Sunstreaker's brother, but anyone who didn't know would have thought that Sideswipe and Red Alert were actually twins.

Of course it's you, is that why this little turbofox came here? Lure me here, get rid of me, then give good old Sideswipe a paintjob and a little coaching and no one knows any better!

Before Red Alert could consider what part of this conspiracy his red doppleganger was playing, Sideswipe revealed a piece of information that the security director was completely unaware of; the turbofox had an owner. Thinking on his feet, Red Alert stopped glaring and tried to look happy again.

"Of course I know he has an owner, that's why I was chasing him! Some mech scared him, maybe Mirage or one of the Dinobots, and he ran over to the Ark-22 to hide. She came to me all worried about this little guy, and so I've been looking for him since. So now you can hand him over to me so I can bring him back to her like I promised."

Forcing the friendliest smile he could, Red Alert reached his hands out. Perhaps a little too anxious, his digits grasped in the air as he waited for the turbofox to be handed over.

Med Bay – Ratchet’s Office

He had just finished his second glass of energon when his comm line came to life. Hoist. Ratchet left the line open so as not to be rude, but he decided not to send a response to the mechanic. Right now all he wanted was to be away.

Ratchet poured his third glass of his high grade and brought the rim of the glass to his lips. He shut down his optics just as he tilted his head back and took a long sip. The warm sensation seemed to calm his already tense frame…or was that the slight intoxication already invading his processor? Either way it was working wonders. That was until he heard his door slide open.

Without onlining his optics Ratchet downed the remains of the glass and set it gently on the desk top. He reactivated his optics just as he was leveling his head back down. The deep cerulean hue of his eyes bore into the towering mech as he stepped through the threshold. Magnus’ friendly chatter went unheeded as Ratchet folded his hands in front of him and glared at the new commanding officer.

“Cut the ‘old friend’ slag Magnus.”

A mere astrosecond later the CMO was on his feet and stalking around the desk to stand in front of the Commander.

“First of all, don’t EVER come in here without gaining permission. Using your personal access codes to enter a room on your own accord…that ‘old friend’ is a blatant invasion of a mech’s privacy!”

His point made Ratchet backed away slowly so as not to bump into anything and effectively wind up stumbling down on his aft. He may have been slightly inebriated but that did not mean he was incapable of getting his point across with crisp coherency.

“Now…”

Ratchet crossed his arms over his chest as he set his stance and eyed Ultra Magnus.

“I’m going to get straight to the point. Prowl issued an order to the repair crew that had been working on the 19 after it was stolen by Grimlock and his merry mechs. That order our brilliant tactician gave was to lie to the rest of us if we inquired about the 19’s disappearance.”

Ratchet let out a heavy sigh as he lowered his arms from his chest and ran his right hand down the length of his face. The entire situation…Prowl giving such an order, the retreat from the surface of the planet, the stagnation, the uncertainty, but what weighed on the medic most was the emptiness he felt from the loss of their leader. He didn't know who to blame for that. Dammit Prime!

“Look, Magnus, Prowl’s intention might have seemed right, especially if he used that Primus damned tactical mind of his, but forcing a ‘Bot to go against what he knows is wrong…it’s just not something an Autobot should do.”

Ratchet shook his head as he started to pace the area in front of his desk.

“And when I say that I mean Prowl. Giving an order like that is not something an Autobot should do. I can’t understand what would make him think keeping that information from his comrades…his, his friends, how could he possibly believe that would keep morale up.”

Now the CMO’s pace became intense. His thoughts moved through his processor in quick flashes.

“He can’t handle this. Losing Prime. He can’t handle it. He’s resorting to uncharacteristic behavior to cover his feelings of failure. Oh Primus. Why didn’t I see this?”

Was it the high grade, or his feelings flooding his processor? Or was it a mixture of both?

Research Labs

Rodimus took a long look at the mechs stationed at the two terminals and smiled. He then made his way to another terminal at the opposite side of the lab and took a seat. He had no need to do any searching himself. He already knew the location of every Decepticon. What he needed to do now was wait.

At the computer console Howlstrike was assigned; Hex stared over the former Predacon’s shoulder. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was inept at working technical devices. The guy’s a wreck.

Then guide him, child. Show him…give him what he needs to find what the others desire.

I’ll do what I can. But he’s a glitched up moron.

Yes. But then again are not they all?

Hex let out an exasperated sigh as he moved to Howlstrike’s side ready to move in to show the mech just what to do, but he was superseded by Saferoute from behind the seated mech. The femme was about as annoying as an invading rust rash…

What irritated him the most was the inane ranting about cybertronian wildlife. What a bunch of slag. The young mech had come online during the war, one of the last to be granted life, but by then the planet had already been ravaged by the war. Almost nothing remained, including the indigenous wildlife. He had never laid eyes on so much as a pertro rabbit. Hex had no care to even bother looking at holovids of just what Cybertron even looked like before the planet was plunged into this endless war.

Now he didn’t even care about the war. All he cared for was to fulfill his master’s wishes.

The young scout watched patiently as Saferoute brought up a map of the space surrounding the planet…the area littered with what their kind would consider a primitive communications array. Video feeds and audio feeds. Easy to hack. Even easier to mislead.

“You don’t have to be a communications officer to hack. Step aside femmezilla.”

The belligerent youngling stepped closer next to Howlstrike who was still sitting in front of the terminal. Hex flashed the former ‘Con a hateful glare right before he began showing them both just how to reroute their attempt by bouncing the signal from satellite to satellite.

“You know you still reek of ‘Con. It’s rather offensive. Especially to the ‘Bots."

Hex let his taunt strike just before he cut off any retort the wolf-former could snap back.

"Now me, I stopped deluding myself…the ‘Bots never gave a damn about me. In fact they left me for dead.”

The scout’s actuators moved swiftly but not so fast as to lose the others watching him work.

“I gave up on the Autobots just like they gave up on me. The only reason I stick around is Axle. Saved my life. I owe him everything. I ain’t loyal to the ‘Bots…I’m loyal to him.”

Eloquent, child. Spark warming in fact.

You know I didn’t mean a word of it, don’t you master?

I Do. I do.

Outside the Lab

Hot Spot nodded at Groove. “Alright, well I haven’t seen any activity around this particular lab. Let’s back track to the mess hall. If we’re lucky he will still be there, if not we can start our search for them from there.” He began a brisk walk down the corridor, assuming Groove would keep up with him. This news about Hot Rod was troubling, but it was something he could hopefully deal with himself quickly and quietly. Between this and Prowl’s recent orders to keep the Dinobot incident quiet it felt like things were beginning to fall apart. Was this what was in store for them with Optimus gone?

The Protectobot leader pushed those thoughts away. Dwelling on them now wouldn’t do any good. He was better at dealing with the here and now anyway. Maybe dealing with this would get his mind off of Prowl’s orders from earlier. At the very least it gave him something to do. He had never been good at waiting for a new assignment. Much as he tried to set a patient example for the rest of the team it just wasn’t in Hot Spots nature to wait and do nothing.

“Groove, do you remember what other Autobots were with Hot Rod? Maybe they have something in common that would lead them to following him? At the very least it would be good to know what we are up against.”

*

Bridge

Kup nodded to himself as he received the reply from Howlstrike. He hoped all that was happening there was just a misunderstanding. That tended to happen when you put together two young, fiery lads like Hot Rod and Howlstrike. Unfortunately with what had happened recently with Hot Rod he could just write it off to foolish youth shenanigans. He trusted Howlstrike to keep him apprised of what was going on.

The old Autobot let out a sigh as he turned his attention to the task at hand. Organizing ship rosters was not what anyone would define as ‘fun’ but it had to be done. You certainly couldn’t trust certain Bots to do it. Too many of them had the attention spans of a turbofox. Show them something shiny and bright and they would forget whatever it was they were doing. Not to say that Kup was happy to do it. It was monotonous, thankless work, but at least he would make sure it got done.

*

Corridors

Sunstreaker happily brushed his hands off as Sideswipe too the creature from him. He hadn’t really cared if Red Alert took it or not, as long as it was away from him. He stared at the creature as it struggled in his brother’s arms, optics locked on him. Well, at least the creature had good taste, he would give it that much.

The warrior listened as Red Alert and Sideswipe discussed the animal. Normally he wouldn’t be interested, but with them planning to leave the ship unauthorized and bumping into the security mech he figured that he should pay attention. It might just be a coincidence, but Red Alert’s paranoia was legendary. Even if he didn’t know what they were up to he could jump to that conclusion easily. He was already wound up from chasing the animal, it wouldn’t take much to turn his optics on the two of them.

The yellow Autobot barely bit back a sarcastic reply to Sideswipe’s request that he accompany him to take the creature to it’s owner. Something about not wanting to watch his twin make a fool out of himself in front of some femme formed on his vocalizer but was never emitted. Instead he merely nodded. “Yeah, sure, I’ll go with you. Then I can charge the owner for the cost of this wax job that thing probably ruined.”

His optics shifted to Red Alert as he asked again for the animal, reaching out for it. Was it just him or was Red acting more crazy then usual? At the very least he was more creepy then normal.

Corridors

Sideswipe paid little mind to Red’s sudden outburst when he took possession of Razr, instead the red mech rolled right into explaining who owned the little turbofox. However, the unusual way the security director reacted to his mention of Tracer and her being the owner of Red’s quarry only caused Sideswipe to take half a step back. The situation was made all the more strange when Red Alert made to reach for the turbofox trying to wriggle free in an attempt to get back to Sunstreaker. The slag is up with him?

“Yeah…uhh…I think it’d be better if I bring him back to her. Besides, this little guy obviously is a bit….uh….how can I put this in a good way…I think he finds you scary.”

The red twin flashed Red Alert the most sincere lopsided smile he could muster before he shrugged deeply and went on.

“No offense Red. But…yeah…”

Leaving it at that Sideswipe cast a surprised look at his brother when the former mentioned he would be willing to go with him to return Tracer’s wayward pet to her. The surprised expression that graced the warrior’s face quickly shifted to something more akin to delight.

“Awesome!”

He shifted slightly as he attempted to readjust Razr to under his arm so the turbofox had no way of escaping and giving Red Alert the chance to catch him, thereby ruining his chance to have another opportunity to meet up with the femme.

“Don’t worry Sunny. I’m sure she’ll be more than willing to make amends for Razr’s little mishap in marring that crazy stunning finish.”

Sideswipe flashed his twin an innocent smirk as he nudged Sunstreaker in the side.

“Although, you do have that little scuff, but I think it was there before this little guy decided to jump ya. All the more reason you’ll have to get some new cleaning supplies…which we can do once this teeny tiny task is completed.”

With the small Cybertronian creature tucked safely under the arm furthest away from Red Alert, Sideswipe motioned with a tilt of his head for his golden twin to follow his lead. With any luck ‘ol Red would end his endeavor in trying to catch Razr giving Sideswipe the opportunity to cozy up to Tracer….if only for a bit.

“C’mon Sunny! We got a job to do. Catch ya later Red!”

HA! Catch! Man, I’m good. In a flash Sideswipe was stalking down the corridor and on towards Tracer’s quarters.

Corridor

"Of course he's scared of me....", Red Alert grumbled to himself as the twins walked away from him, "He's knows I'm on to him.... He knows that his owner's going straight to Garrus 9 when I catch her!"

Red Alert stood there fuming, wondering what to do next.

Curse Sideswipe and his femmebot crazy attitude! He'll take that furry little mongrel right to his owner, and-

Red Alert's optics widened as it finally occured to him. In his rush to find out what was happening, he never got the chance to check the Guardian personal logs and records, so he had no idea whoever the turbofox's master was. But Sideswipe did, and now he was going to her!

Of course, why didn't I think of that in the first place? I go with them and to the owner! Whoever she is, she'll be answering for whatever part she's playing in this plot, I'll be sure of that!

"HEY, SLOW DOWN YOU TWO!", the security director ordered Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.

The security director ran down to the two bots, making sure to be walking in between them once he had caught up.

"I'll need to speak with her anyway, so I'm coming along.", Red Alert told the two, "I need to make sure she has all the proper equipment in her quarters to keep this turbofox from running around the ship again. It's a potential security risk!"

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

Outside the Lab

"All right.", Groove replied to his commander as the two headed for the mess hall to find Rodimus and his followers.

Groove had to walk a little fast to keep up with Hot Spot, if only because of his commander's taller height and longer strides. Though he still kept it to himself, he still worried about just what would happen once Hot Spot met this larger, more charismatic mech who used to be Hot Rod. Would the Protectobot commander be just as persuaded as so many others? He wasn't sure.

Groove's train of thought was interrupted as his commander asked him a question. Of course it made sense to know exactly how many and who they would face. Though the pacifist didn't like how Hot Spot had worded it, "what we are up against". Regardless of what these bots were doing now they were still fellow Autobots, and the assumption that they would be in any way hostile disgusted him.

Groove wanted to correct Hot Spot, but now just wasn't the time. He held his vocal component as he remembered those he saw and just how much they seemed to be behind Rodimus.

"Well I already mentioned Hardhead, let me think....", Groove thought, the ones who had been most vocal were the easiest to remember, "Warpath and Saferoute both seemed to be behind him as well, as was Hex......."

Groove stopped talking as he searched through his memory banks for anyone else there, even those who didn't seem like they were really with the group.

"Blurr was talking to Warpath, I'm not sure if Rodimus had convinced him or not, and I think I saw Ricochet already there. I doubt he joined up with the rest of them, but you never know. And Howlstrike was there, but he was the only one besides me who didn't seemed convinced by Rodimus' words."

Groove waited a minute before he spoke up, to let Hot Spot process the names of the bots he mentioned.

"So that's at least four Autobots with him, possibly up to seven depending on how things went after I left."

Corridor

While making his way down the hallway, while trrying to shift Razr around to keep the little animal stable, Sideswipe barely made out some mumbling Red Alert was able to get out. Thankfully Cybertronian audios are capable of picking up even faint sounds. Of course Red’s audios were much more sensitive.

Sideswipe scrunched up his nasal ridge and took a look over his shoulder seeing the security chief set off at a run. Why the slag is he so interested in getting his hands on Razr, and why did he mention G9?

The red twin only paused for a moment before he continued his trek toward his intended destination. Out of nowhere, however he suddenly stopped…optics fixated on Red Alert’s face. He was quiet, but then quietly turned to actually face the white and red mech.

“Red, why would his owner…” Sideswipe gestured to Razr by rasing the critter slightly. “…he won’t come to you. He doesn’t know you. At least with me…well, I know him…Sunny’s been around him once or twice. But he’d never go to you willingly.”

The red warrior took a few steps closer to the paranoid ‘Bot his face exceptionally close to Red’s

“She’d know not to send someone her pet didn’t know.”

Sideswipe’s optics narrowed as he stepped in even further.

“So what’s the real reason you’re so hell bent on getting a hold of him and why are you really so anxious to see her? It can’t possibly be because you’re worried about some ‘potential security risk’.”

Sideswipe had moved in almost dangerously close, his voice low, but there was question he was very interested in getting answered.

“And what was that you were mumbling about G9?”

Research Labs

Hardhead smiled as Warpath joined his group at their assigned terminal. The crimson warrior seemed excited about the prospect of locating the Decepticons down on Earth and then actually doing something instead of sitting idly by while the 'Cons made their plans and regrouped. His question on where to look first had some merit but it was unnecessary as the crux of the enemy would not be found in the west but instead on the eastern half of the globe. “We are checking the entirety of the western hemisphere, Warpath. If our enemy is down there somewhere the scans will detect some trace of their presence.”

Ricochet grumbled a bit under his breath as he shifted from one leg to the other in impatience. “Well, that’s great and all, but that's going to take a while isn't it, Hardhead? An entire half of a planet is a pretty big place, you know. Perhaps we should conduct some more localized scans, as well.” With all the consideration of a cyber-rat, the marksman reached down across the seated war veteran and began punching in new, more specific coordinates for the scans to focus in on. “There, we should be looking first at the more barren regions of the planet, areas that are isolated and thus more suitable for hiding a Decepticon base. Why waste time scanning inhabited sectors like cities? Deserts, forests and large bodies of water are where we should first start.”

Hardhead leaned back in his chair, allowing the insolent gunner room to conduct his pointless scans. Ricochet, while rude, was not dumb by any means. He was focusing in on regions such as the northern parts of Canada, the desert known as Death Valley and even the Gulf of Mexico. However, none of that mattered as the real locations of the Decepticons would be found by a very unexpected mech, one who did not even believe in their cause.

Master, I believe this Ricochet will serve us well in the coming cycles. His arrogance and hostility will be a great asset to us until he is no longer needed, do you agree?
_________

Howlstrike remained seated as the frustration continued to grow at his ineptitude at conducting such a simple task as scanning half a planet. It took a femme like Saferoute to finally walk over and lend him some assistance, much to her own apparent reluctance. She mentioned how she once had a cyber-rat for a pet named Wirewhiskers. “That’s... nice,” Howl responded, trying to sound interested even though he really wasn’t. His processor was more on Rodimus’ true motivations here, especially in his decision to appoint the former Predacon the task of scanning for the Decepticons when there were others far more capable than himself.

Saferoute, for instance, was able to get rid of all the junk that had been on Howlstrike’s computer terminal and replace it with a grid map of all the satellites orbiting over the eastern hemisphere. However, that’s where she stopped as the bus-former stated that she did not have the knowledge to hide a scanning signal from detection. Hex, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what he was doing, ordering Saferoute to get out of his way before moving to the hunter’s side. A nasty look from the young mech greeted Howl along with a taunt for his ‘Con-like odor. Unfortunately, before the tracker could respond in kind, Hex cut him off and continued talking, explaining how his only loyalty rested with Axle and not the Autobots as a whole.

“Mmmm...I can’t imagine why anyone would leave you behind, Hex,” Howlstrike began once the silver ‘Bot finally stopped his rant. “You’re such a pleasure to be around.” The former Predacon grinned, taking no measure to mask the sarcastic tone in his voice. “As for my smell, well, I’m sorry you don’t like it. It’s the only one I have. Perhaps you should just cover your olfactory sensors or, better still, hold your intakes.”

Howlstrike then watched as Hex continued to show him and Saferoute how to reroute the signal and bounce it off of multiple satellites in order to hide their trail. It seemed simple enough. “All right, let me give this a try,” the hunter said as he reached over to the terminal and brushed the youngling’s hands aside. Howl immediately began to imitate what Hex had just demonstrated. The wolf-former may not be much of a techie, but he could at least copy someone else’s moves. Within moments, Howl managed to initiate a hemisphere-wide scan of the eastern side of the planet, bouncing the signal around in the proper manner. The former Predacon felt a slight sense of pride in his accomplishment, but had to quickly remind himself that anything he found would only benefit the flame-covered mech and whatever his real motivations were for all this.

“There, how’s that?” Howlstrike asked Hex as the first set of readings began to fill the monitor in front of him. “It looks like we’re already getting some results. I’m not sure what it all means, but I do know that the ‘Cons will likely be masking their signatures to avoid being detected by a simple scan. So, what exactly should I be looking for, instead, a big Decepticon emblem facing skyward?” It was more sarcasm, but Howl had made his valid point nevertheless.

Bridge

As Prowl waited for a response from Ultra Magnus, he received a transmission from Crackdown, a mech that he was somewhat familiar with but knew little about on a personal level. >>"No, Crackdown, nothing has yet been finalized. You will be notified when that changes."<<

The military strategist then stood from the science station and regarded Silverbolt with a nod. "I will signal you once Mangus has given us the green light. Until then, prepare your squad for deployment." Prowl placed a reassuring hand on the Aerialbot Commander's shoulder plate before moving away and approaching the trio of Autobots that would comprise the ground operation. The black and white stopped between the auxiliary and communications stations, looking back and forth between the two consoles.

"Bumblebee, Nova Strike, Freeway, you are being reassigned to a scouting mission that Commander Magnus has ordered. I will be leading the ground portion of the operation that you will be a part of while Silverbolt and his Aerialbots will scout from the skies above. The object of this mission is to locate a suitable region to establish a new Earth base of operations. Once the plans are given final approval, you will be further briefed. Until such time, get yourselves powered up and ready for deployment at a moment's notice. Understood?"

>>Understood, Prowl. Out.<<

Slag.

Crackdown pressed the controls for the lift with a bit more force than intended. The waiting was slowly frying his circuits. It could not be helped, nor did it really matter. Whether he was aboard the Guardian or the Ark vessel, the siege specialist doubted there would be much use for him. The Decepticons were still in disarray, as far as he knew, and so his skills would not be specifically needed yet. Crackdown's optics turned to a slate grey as they deactivated momentarily, audio receptors focusing on the droning hum of machinery whirring as the lift brought him to the main deck.

Corridor

A panel along the wall dinged audibly, the label metal door of the lift sliding back to reveal the cobalt hued mech. Optics came online once more as his auditory senses immediately picked up on a voice just a few feet away from the ajar door. G9? An astrosecond was far more than necessary for memory banks to scour through stored files to not only cross reference the utterance, but also the belonging voice.
____________________________________________________
Replaying Audio File...
“And what was that you were mumbling about G9?”
Accessing Memory Files...
Complete.

Sideswipe
=>Profile
Elba System
=>Moons
=>Garrus-9 [Penitentiary]
=>Personnel
=>Incarcerated
___________________________________________________


It still made little sense as to why the prison would be mentioned. Having nothing else to do until he heard back from Prowl, the siege mech approached Sideswipe and the other two Autobots with him. Given Red Alert's already frayed circuits as they wrapped around countless conspiracy plots and theories, the sudden appearance of a war mech might not help after Sideswipe's rather interrogatory question.

Infirmary - Ratchet's Office

Ultra Magnus allowed the agitation of his friend's reaction towards his invited intrusion into his hallowed sanctuary slide. It was something of an expected response given the past several weeks. He had read the reports of the aftermath of the two defensive operations and the details regarding how the medical teams had been working around the clock for days to restore the Autobots involved into full fighting capacity... at least physically.

Magnus remained silent briefly as Ratchet finally returned to his initial reason for summoning him. The recent theft of the Ark 19 by Grimlock and his group of super powered Autobots. Inwardly he admitted that he did not like the idea of covering the events up, especially if he intended to solidify some sort of balance of command and the idealism that Optimus Prime once striven for. But he also understood the initial reasoning behind Prowl's attempt to maintain order. Still Ratchet's initial words brought to light something that just did not seem proper.

"True, our vaunted strategist is not known for his more snap to judgement maneuvers, regardless of the intentions behind them." Magnus conceded the point as Ratchet finished his tirade. As the medic turned to begun to spiral into a pit of self blame, Magnus placed a reassuring hand on his broad square shoulder. "Look, the loss of Optimus has affected everyone on board. From Prowl to even Grimlock himself and every Autobot in between, at least those who are aware of the events that had taken place Earthside."

He turned his head towards the door and looked on through the fogged transparent steel window as figures slowly walked passed. "Ratchet..." He was brought to a pause when a connection of the communications link between he and Prowl was reestablished.

Ultra Magnus pressed a tab on the side of his helmet and activated the signal briefly. "Understood Prowl. I want your assigned team to report to the infirmary for Recharge, Preventative Maintenance and in some cases Modular reconstruction for Earth Vehicle Disguises. Once that is complete we will establish a full briefing session on the 22. Its armory is better supplied for such tasks." Magnus accepted the acknowledgement that would soon come and deactivated the comm link.

He looked back at Ratchet and shook his head. "I agree with you that Prime would not have supported such a deception. It is something Megatron would employ to solidify his own position. While I gather further testimony regarding the events of the Ark theft, I want you to personally over see the medical procedures of Prowl and his team. If you find any defects, deal with them appropriately but keep me informed." He paused and stepped towards the door leading towards the infirmary proper. "Once this brief set of medical procedures are completed, I want you to reclaim a more appropriate venue. In other words you are being given the larger facilities on the 22. Transfer who and what you need there... Like Prowl, I do not wish to create division in our ranks. But unlike Prowl, I will not give Grimlock cart-blanch to disregard the laws we require to keep ourselves separate from the debauchery of the Decepticon Hordes. He will reap what has been sewn."

Magnus paused. "Even if it means telling the entire galaxy that Prime is Missing in Action. We will follow the ideals Optimus inspired, a rule of law and justice... Grimlock had just better hope Ironfist's repair team doesn't press charges for assault and battery on top of the already formidable stack."

Bridge

>>”Understood, Commander Magnus. Both aerial and ground teams will arrival in the Medical Bay within one breem.”<<

With his acknowledgement sent to the City Commander, Prowl returned his attention to Bumblebee, Freeway and Nova Strike who had not yet left the bridge. He then cast a glare back at the science station and motioned for the Aerialbot leader to join them. “I have refined orders from Ultra Magnus. He wants all of us to report to the infirmary immediately for the recharge I already suggested along with other maintenance procedures in order to best prepare ourselves for the scouting mission ahead. Once we are checked out, we will have a full briefing over on the Ark-22. Deployment will follow soon afterwards. Silverbolt, alert your team and have them join us down in the med bay ASAP. If none of you have any questions then I’ll see you all down there in one breem.”

Prowl remained for a moment just in case there were any inquires from the group of Autobots positioned around him. Considering that a proper mission briefing would be forthcoming, the black and white didn’t anticipate any questions at this time. Still, he didn’t want to seem standoffish and waited for each mech to answer him instead of just leaving the bridge outright. It likely wouldn’t change how he was viewed by those present, but any attempt made by the analyst to appear more considerate could only help improve his already tarnished reputation as being an uncaring prick-bot.

Bridge - Auxiliary Stations

Nova Strike released a brief chuckle as he toggled off his sensor display. He entered a series of commands and sent the task of monitoring the immediate sensor range of the Guardian over to one of the more dedicated members of the newly arriving bridge team. Once the acknowledgement came from the fore of the bridge well where the sensor cluster of consoles and terminals and other such devices was received, the ranger swung around and stood up. He released a brief but audible sigh as he engaged in a stretch of his servos.

He couldn't see how a single mechanism could possibly want to be assigned such a task. To be sitting in one position cycle after cycle after cycle. It made Nova's back struts ache.

Turning to look down at the smaller Autobots, Bumblebee and Freeway, he gave a reassuring nod. "Well Gentlemechs. It does appear that our initial theories have been confirmed."

He turned to Prowl. "A scouting mission Sir?" He started but was cut off by further details. A survey mission, threat level minimal, and chance of engaging hostile units next to none. Not exactly the thrilling assignment Nova Strike would have preferred. Still the ranger would not turn down a chance to get out of the tight confines of the coffin in which they had been relegated to. "Sounds like something that will be full of entertaining distractions Sir."

Once again to the two minibots. Gone was the brilliant smile and soft demeanor that defined his previous moods. His face was stoic and serious as his optics narrowed. He gave a nod to both of his colleagues before offering a customary salute to Prowl. "We'll be there as ordered Commander." With that he began the long trek to the infirmary and the Dread Pirate Ratchet. How he hated medical procedures... and most medical professionals. This was going to be a test of his endurance, before the mission even bounced to the beginning stages.

Armory

Slingshot had spent his time in the Infirmary during his latest round of repairs. His systems had registered full charges and full structural integrity. In fact one of the service medics had complimented him on his fitness given what he had endured down on the planet a few frames ago. Well maybe not complimented, more like noticed. But for the smallest member of the Aerialbots, it meant the same thing.

He knew full well he was a specimen, one of the best fliers in the Autobot Ranks, he had to be. Ever since he could remember, at least back when the war first broke out, the Autobots had lost the skies to the Seeker forces under Starscream. What fliers did exist were small pathetic turncoats who when faced with adversity shrunk from the battlefield or joined the Decepticons to preserve their pathetic sparks.

The Sharpshooter entered his access key and entered into the Guardian's recently stocked armory. He approached the counter where a black and gold droid leaned silently as if a stone ghoul, a silent specter who guarded the gates of an ancient treasure. The droid's optical band radiated a red dot as it scanned the first signs of movement and the activation of a security pressure plate located in the floor where Slingshot now stood. "Identify."

"What?" He started to protest but decided better against it. Who knew what sort of tricks the commander of this boat had added to these security dolls. "My name's Slingshot. Best flier in the Galaxy."

"Searching... Searching... Identity exaggerated. Slingshot... Squadron: Typhoon... Incorrect. Updating. Slingshot: Function Ground Support. Squadron: Aerialbots. Purpose?"

"This is an armory right? What in the slag do you think my purpose would be for entering an Armory?"

"Perhaps if you explained it to poor over taxed Grendel then you might see more useful results."

Slingshot's head snapped immediately to his left, nearly tearing a pair of gears, a series of servos and possibly a hydraulic compressor, in the process. "If this thing is over taxed then it needs to be scrapped."

Ironfist walked through the opened doors with his optics giving a brief fade as he shook his head. He placed a hand on the flier's shoulder and immediately frowned behind his mouth guard as Slingshot shrugged off the reassuring gesture. Not everyone was meant to be calm. The engineer drew beside the Aerialbot and leaned over the counter. "Grendel. Access weapons profile Slingshot."

"Accessing..."

Slingshot crossed his arms over his chest. "I was already getting to that. What makes you think you're doing something I wasn't about to accomplish?"

Ironfist pulled out a small monitor located behind the counter. He pressed the touch screen and allowed it to resolve to a blue green mesh. "Because you were not officially authorized to request rearming. At least from your given codes or recent mission profiles. In other words, if you continued along this round robin, you would have most likely met up with Streetwise and spent the next few cycles explaining how you entered the Armory to begin with."

Slingshot was speechless. He couldn't tell whether or not the engineer was bluffing... damn face plate hiding wannabes. If they wanted to interact with the bulk of society they should at least have the courtesy to show off their faces. The flier's optics immediately dropped to the ground. "Profile Complete... Weapon Package acquired and ready for installation." The raspy voice broke Slingshot's reverie. Had he broken some sort of protocol he never knew about? And what if Silverbolt found out? Not that he cared, but the squadron was already fractured. And what if...

Ironfist couldn't hold it in any longer. His mirth began to take hold and he let slip a series of chuckles. Eventually as the Aerialbot began to recover from what had once been a dressing down of not following proper procedures, the engineer couldn't help but laugh. "I am sorry Slingshot. It appeared you required some sort of a distraction from what was on your mind."

"You were... joking? HOW IN THE SCRAP IS THAT FUNNY?" Slingshot resisted the urge to step up to the superior officer, primarily through sheerest of grit and determination.

"Your reaction for one, your lack of current self doubt that plastered your expression is another. Grendel, release Installation procedures and begin arming procedures." He turned to the flier who was already cooling. "Let me see your weapons... perhaps I can make things a bit more comfortable."

Mess Hall

Jazz tossed another cup of the deathly awful Energon Substitute down his throat. Jazz felt a chill go down his spine, and he noticeably shook to get rid of it.

One moment Jazz was looking down at his drink, listening to Rodimus then the next he noticed that all of them were gone. He didn't get to hear his speech, and that was a problem. If only he had gotten here earlier; maybe, just maybe, he could have drawn a conclusion about the flame-emblazoned mech and his standpoint.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Hot Rod, it was just that in this time of turmoil that the young hot-head would probably do something brash. Being friends with him and all, he didn't want anything bad to happen to him.

He was now alone in the Mess Hall. He was sure of that. But didn't Hot Rod say that he and his band of merry-men were off to the hangar?

Fraggit; that is where the Auxiliary Control Room is! Not to mention shuttles! Who knows what Hot Rod is going to do? I have to keep tabs on him. Jazz thought as he sprung from his chair, knocking it behind him.

But wait, do the mechs upstairs know what is going on? Better to tell them first then possibly being caught and- Jazz caught himself.

"Caught" and then what? Was he beginning to doubt the very friendship that had saved both of their lives in the past?

Jazz's neck felt hot, and it wasn't the Energon.

Jazz ran forward and Transformed. He spun his tires and squealed around the corner. The reflective surface of his Porsche alt. mode was reflecting the lights in the hallways onto the walls. He was approaching a turn, but he was going too fast. Having done something like this before, Jazz transformed and grabbed the wall and used his momentum to whip around the turn and transform again.

Several twists and turns later, he made it to the bridge where he found several Autobots hard at work. He transformed and, coming from a backflip, he landed in the middle of the Bridge.

"I need to-" Jazz gasped for air, worn out from his journey across the Guardian.

"I need to see Prowl, or whoever is in charge! There is something that they would probably like to hear." Jazz panted, resting against one of the consoles.

Corridors

Red Alert needed more information, but that information wasn't coming along easily, there were just so many questions. Why was this turbofox in the Ark-22 shuttle bay and possibly in the stolen shuttle, and then later in the bounce chamber? And who was his owner, and what part did she play in this plot? And for that matter what, if anything, did this have to do with the departure of the Ark-19, along with the escape pod it launched? What did Prowl possibly have to gain in all of this?

And now there was the more immediate question, could the security director possibly trust Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, who were now holding onto a piece of this puzzle? This more than anything floated through Red Alert's processor's as the red twin confronted him. Closer and closer Sideswipe moved in, far closer than anyone's comfort zone, all the while telling the security why his story was complete slag. All the while, Red Alert simply remained quiet, staring at the near-mirror image of his own face that Sideswipe possessed. At the very end, when the red twin questioned Red Alert's earlier comment about the owner going to Garrus-9, something he had not intended anyone else to hear, the security director had had enough.

"BACK OFF! NOW!", Red Alert shouted trying to push Sideswipe away, but ultimately having to back away to get some distance between the them.

Red Alert was huffing in frustration. He looked back and forth between Sideswipe's face and Razr, the little turbofox being held with effort.

"You listen to me, Sideswipe.", the security director sneered, poking the red warrior's chestplate with his finger, "That 'pet' and it's owner are both part of a very large security risk, and I don't need to tell you anymore than that! Now you and your brother-"

Red Alert paused for a moment and glanced at Sunstreaker, whom he had mostly ignored since Sideswipe had taken hold of the turbofox. Once sure that the yellow warrior was also paying attention to his words, he went back to the red twin.

"-Can cooperate with me, or I can look into whatever it is you two were planning to get this special 'buffing cloth"

For a moment Red Alert smirked, to give the impression that he knew something, but really he was just guessing. Given the twin's history there was certainly a chance they'd be trying something illegal or against orders, and he was willing to gamble on it.

Red Alert's smirk quickly vanished as his audio sensors picked the sound of a nearby door opening, followed by the clanking of metal feet walking across the hallway's metallic floor.

"Who is that?", the security director shouted out, jumping back from Sideswipe into a defensive position.

Red Alert turned his head to the source of the footsteps, to see only a few feet away Crackdown. The Autobot Vanguard said nothing, but Red Alert knew exactly what his intents were. The security director shook a little as he slowly backed away from the three mechs, his head occasionally spinning behind to check if there was anyone else.

"Slaggit I should have seen this coming!", Red Alert said to himself, keeping a sharp eye on his three would-be attackers, "That turbofox was just a distraction to lure me to you, wasn't he?"

Red Alert shook nervously. For the first time in his investigation into Prowl's conspiracy, he found himself in danger. He turned his head to look at the rocket launcher on his shoulder. Though he had left his rifle back on the Ark-22, he wasn't completely unarmed- but to fire one at his fellow Autobots? Even those who may have been deeply involved with a plot to dismantle the very foundation of Autobot society? Red Alert wasn't sure he could do it.

"St-stay back! All of you!", Red Alert nervously ordered, still backing up, "I-I don't know what Prowl told you, but it won't work! He can paint you and completely reprogram you Sideswipe, but the other Autobots will know it's not me!"

(OOC: Bee, Roddy, Hex and Sides maybe tomorrow)


Med Bay – Ratchet’s Office

“Magnus. Prime’s loss has not only affected us in the present, but it’s liable to tear us apart now and in the future. These mechs and femmes don’t need anyone giving the kinds of orders Prime would never give. I’m sorry for repeating myself, but I just cannot comprehend how such an action could benefit any of us.”

Ratchet ran a hand down his face as an exasperated sigh left his vocalizer. He made to continue but Magnus proceeded instead. He kept his hand over his optics as he tried to make do with what the City Commander said. The sound of his name had him slowly pulling down his hand from his face and looking up at Magnus.

“Oh, well, that’s a bit harsh Magnus. I admit Prowl has a tendency not to think ahead when it comes to how his teammates will react to one of his orders, but to compare his actions to something similar Megatron’s, now that’s going a bit far.”

Ratchet had won this argument…well, not completely, but at least he had the opportunity to voice his opinion. He was also satisfied that Magnus was made aware of just the kind of lengths Prowl would go in order to keep the Autobots from falling into the abyss. Unfortunately his way was the wrong way.

The CMO shot the new commanding officer an incredulous look rendering Magnus’ decision to transfer him and his staff to the 22. He wasn’t sure the why or wherefore, but he had to wonder if there was already a plan in motion to move this group of ‘Bots to another location.

“Concerning the exams…I’ll perform them, however I’ll leave Prowl’s to Axle. I see him I'll pull his battle computer out of his cranial unit and shove it so far up his aft he’ll never be able to commutate another strategy.”

Ratchet offered Magnus a stiff nod. He’d perform the exams, he’d even move his equipment and his staff to the 22, but that not mean he wouldn’t complain about it. But not now. Now all he wanted was another drink.

“After those evaluations are complete I’ll see to it you get the results.”

That said the white and red mech raised a hand and extended an actuator toward the door.

“I’m sure you can see yourself out.”

The medic watched Ultra Magnus make his way out of his office and then out of the med bay proper. Finally alone in his only sanctuary, Ratchet slumped back in his chair and poured another glass of high grade. Letting out a long sigh he lifted the vessel and took a healthy swig. He savored not only fine distilled taste but the warmth as he slid down his throat.
____

The walk from the Ark - 22 to the Guardian’s medical bay took a lot long than Axle had anticipated. Twice the medic had to change his route so as not to cross another mech’s path. It was frustrating to say the least, but the least amount of mechs he bumped into the better.

Axle cracked a smile as his finally arrived at the door that led into the domain of Ratchet. The field medic shook his head as he stepped up and let the doors slide open.

“Oh Primus please don’t let him be here.”

He was able to avoid First Aid and his patient’s attention by sticking close to the far wall and taking light steps so as not to make any unnecessary noise.

Once he succeeded in sneaking around his friend, Axle stopped at a storage room and entered his access code. The door slid open silently and he slipped in. As quickly as he could he jogged to one of the cabinets and threw open the doors. He took stock of the items in front of him before he dove in a grabbed two cubes of medical grade energon.

Letting out a satisfied sigh and tossing his head back Axle closed the cabinet door and stored the cubes in his sub space. His task completed Axle now had to make it back out of the med bay and back to the 22 where he can drop off the energon and then acquire the remainder of the equipment he would need to get Smokescreen fully functional again.

Slowly he emerged from the storage room and began to work his way around back wall toward the exit. He had just come into contact with the door’s frame when he suddenly stopped.

“Axle?! The slag are you doing up?”

The field medic whipped around to see the CMO standing just outside his office door. Damn. He had to be hold up in his office only to spot me. Now what?

“Ratchet. Hi. I was…that is...I thought I would get out for a bit. I just can’t stay here cooped up on a berth.”

He offered a slight shrugged as he inched further to the door. Please Primus let him buy that slag.

“How long have you been up? I figured those sedatives would still be in your system keeping you glued to that slab.”

“I’ve been shot up with so many sedatives over the vorns I probably have an immunity to them. Anyway, I’d really like to take that walk. Unless you need me right now…”

Ratchet brought a hand to his forehead and rubbed at the center of his chevron.

“Fine, but I’ll need you back here soon. There’s a team preparing to head out planet side. They need a once over…and I volunteered you to handle Prowl.”

Axle rubbed at the back of his head as he let out an annoyed groan. He only hoped the team would show up as late as possible giving his plenty of time to finish his work on Smokescreen.

“Okay. I’ll have my comm open. Just contact me when they arrive.”

Ratchet didn’t respond vocally, instead he flicked his hand toward his subordinate.

“Thanks Ratchet.”

The door couldn’t open fast enough and finally out in the corridor Axle leaned back against the wall next to the door.

“Slag, that was too close.”

He was off a moment later weaving and sneaking back toward the 22.

Bridge

Silverbolt nodded and smiled at Prowl’s compliment. It wasn’t much, but it proved the strategist was at least listening to suggestions. That simple act alone gave the Aerialbot commander hope for their assignment. It was a noticeable change from the constant battling his relationship with Slingshot had become.

“Thank you. Air Raid and Slingshot are already preparing themselves.” Not feeling he needed to add more than that, Silverbolt turned and strode towards the turbo lift. Once the thin doors closed and it began its descent he slowed the flow of energon to his processor. While he never had an issue with Prowl, he usually didn’t take part in the planning stages. I suppose that’s something I’m going to have to get used to.

Medical Bay

When the turbo lift stopped and the doors opened, he stepped into the corridor leading to the medical bay. At least he didn’t need much, if any, maintenance since he’d only been there a short time ago. At reaching the double door entrance to the medical bay Silverbolt came to a stop at a sudden realization. Ratchet would be finished with the wounded from their battle and that meant… Oh Primus, I really stepped into the waste this time. With a final surge of energon, he forced himself to step forward. His proximity activated the sensor and the door slid open. There was no turning back now.

Research Labs

Rodimus had kept his position at one of the terminals at one end of the lab. He had decided to keep busy searching the Guardian’s roster…learning what he could of the mechs and femmes stationed on the Protectobot vessel. He had already learned so much in the short amount of time he was performing his intelligence recon.

The self-proclaimed Prime paused in his work when he heard the voice of Hardhead clearing in his mind. His first herald was keen in the knowledge of the personnel that dwelled within the vessel, and if the green warrior chose another to use in the Master’s plans then so be it.

Yes my warrior. He shall make a perfect addition to my Master’s fold. However, he is not one of His chosen few. Ricochet shall prove his worth by sacrificing himself for our cause. Then and only then will he be considered fit to be amongst my Master’s chosen. Only in death will he have worth.
____

Located across the floor poised at another terminal stood Hex and his team attempting as best they could to find the location of the Decepticons still on planet. Unlike Hardhead, Hex was impatient and belligerent…they were the qualities The Unbringer embodied.

Standing to one side of the terminal but close enough to observe everything Howstrike was doing, Hex placed his hands on his hips and gave a low snort as a first response to the wolf-former’s query.

“It’ll do…for now.”

Dropping his hands to his the side Hex stepped in even closer to the terminal taking in the streams of data being pulled in by the scans. The young mech scanned through the information and quickly determined just what usable information was and what was simply useless.

“Sit back dog breath.”

Reaching past Howlstrike so he could easily get to the keys, Hex took the time to focus the scans on most of the land masses surrounding their intended location.

No child. Let him perform the work. He must complete the task on his own. He must doom his own kind. Guide…do not give him the precise means. You are impetuous child, but now you must be calm. Our Master needs you, as I need you to put an end to your Cybertronian brethren.

Of course Master.

After setting the scanners over the continent known by the humans as Indonesia, a considerable distance south of their intended location, Hex backed off and looked back at Howlstrike. He gestured to the screen and flashed the former Predacon a cocky smirk.

“Start from there Fido. Work your way up the hemisphere in a cross hatch pattern. You come across anything that’s sporting a Cybertronian signature you hit pay dirt.”

The smirk plastered on Hex’s face grew wider into an all-out grin as he took up a position leaning against the terminal facing Howlstrike…his arms cross over his chest…his legs crossed at the ankles.

“No studying.”

He let out a chuckle and shook his head slightly.

“You keep up the good work, boy; you might just earn yourself a nice juicy dog biscuit.”

Bridge

Bumblebee had kept quite while the others present in the aread took to speaking in hushed tones or simply partook in friendly everyday banter. The yellow mech decided to keep to himself…head resting in his upturned palm, elbow resting on the console and his free hand randomly punching keys. He wasn’t really performing any particular task other than scanning for stray communications.

There were a few affirmative beeps and a few illuminations before Bumblebee depressed one of the buttons situated on the side of the keyboard. At least I don’t have to link directly to the ship to be so board.

It was the sound of Prowl’s voice that caused the miniscule mech to snap up out of his melancholy and turn in his chair. He still held slight animosity toward the tactician for his role in not mentioning to the crew he had called in Magnus, but he was an Autobot, and Autobots don’t hold grudges even if that grudge was focuses on Prowl. Even he deserved the benefit of the doubt.

Bumblebee stood quickly, but so much as to appear too eager, and made his way up and over to the coned platform where the black and white was located. He came to a stop and took in whatever Prowl said in regards to the mission and the part he would be playing in it. Easy enough.

“Understood.”

His attention returned to Prowl as the strategist announced that there was a revision to their order made by Ultra Magnus. Bumblebee focused on the new orders given and responded with his trademark innocent smile and a deep nod. However, as the others turned to leave Bumblebee remained, his head turned watching the rest of the recently formed team. Once they were out of hearing range Bee looked back to Prowl.

“Um..look Prowl. I..uh..I just wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. I know what you did was in the best interest for all of us and I should have realized that before.”

Looking away, Bumblebee placed his hand on the back of his neck and began to shift his weight from one foot to the other.

“Prime…he…I…I’m sorry. I won’t let it happen again.”

Corridors

Sideswipe had kept his position directly in front of and as close as possible to Red Alert trying to desperately work the security office up to the point he’d give up his current task and go back to his hole.

It was only when the red and white mech let out a loud order, combined with him shoving the red frontliner. that actually caused Sideswipe to step back slightly. Red’s never been this worked up before. What’s the slag has gotten into him?

The red twin put up his free hand trying to calm Red Alert down as much as possible. The last thing he needed was to have the security officer to suffer from one of his processor crashes and then have to face Prowl explaining just what happened. And of course Prowl would never believe anything he or Sunstreaker said.

Sideswipe furrowed his brow and tilted his head as Red Alert finally spoke, this time slightly less agitated, however he was still just as angry. The red mech noticed the other ‘Bot looking between him and Razr. Sideswipe quickly shifted the little turbofox from one arm tot h other effectively hiding the creature from Red Alert’s sight.

“What security risk?! Is it the one you made up in your own glitch processor?”

The red twin stared Red Alert in the optics and let out a deep growl. This was getting ridiculous. For some insane reason the officer believed that Razr was involved in some kind of conspiracy along with, possibly, everyone else on board.

The buffing cloth. The mention of that particular item gave Sideswipe a start, but he recovered quickly as he knew Red would, and could, never figure out what he and Sunny had planned. He had no time to consider a response to the mech when Red suddenly turned his paranoid attention to Crackdown who happened to appear at the other end of the corridor.

Red Alert’s attention then pulled back to Sideswipe as he accused the small animal of being a distraction in order to lure him to this particular place at this particular time. This mech’s nuts, even more so than usual.

“What in the Pit are you going on about, Red? Paint me, reprogram me? I don’t know what’s rollin’ around in that fragged up cranium of yours but if you don’t chill out I’ll have to make you relax!”

He then gestured to the turbofox positioned under his arm.

“This little guy has nothing to do with any kind of conspiracy. As far as any of us knows he just slipped out of his owner’s quarters when she left it to go on duty. She probably has no idea he even got out.”

Sideswipe glared at Red Alert and stepped in a bit closer before he spoke out in a low dangerous tone.

“Now me and Sunny are gonna take him back to her so don’t even think about following us. I suggest you head back to that little fort you’ve built out of your office. It’s time you realize that NO ONE is out to get you…if they were don’t you think you’d be dead by now?”

Bridge

Prowl nodded as each of the chosen Autobots for the mission gave him their acknowledgements and then went on their way to the medical bay. The only one that remained behind was Bumblebee, who appeared to have something else on his processor than just the upcoming scouting operation. Before the military strategist was able to ask him about it, the yellow minibot spoke up and offered an apology for his recent behavior. The small mech was very sincere in his words and the analyst couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“It’s all right, Bumblebee. We all make mistakes and do things that we later regret,” Prowl responded kindly. “I’m no different in that regard. You and I both want what’s best for the Autobots. We just do things in a different way, that’s all. However, in the end, we’re still on the same team and that’s what’s important.” The black and white placed a reassuring hand on Bumblebee’s shoulder and gently squeezed. “Now, head on down to see Ratchet. Like the others on the team, you will play a very important role during the upcoming mission and I need you in tip top form.”

Prowl smiled again before releasing his grip on the minibot’s shoulder. It was at that moment when Jazz zoomed onto the bridge, transformed and did a backflip through the air before landing in the center of the room. The military strategist turned to face the out of breath mech as he demanded to speak with whomever was in charge. “Well, Ultra Magnus is now in command of this sector, Jazz,” Prowl replied as he approached the Earth-loving Autobot. “However, he’s very busy right now and not here at the moment. I’m still second in command, though, so I will hear you out. Bare in mind that I don't have a lot of time, either, so let's just get to it. What's the problem?”

Research Labs

Howlstrike was becoming more and more agitated by the astrosecond. But it wasn’t just because of his inability to work a computer terminal without assistance, it was Hex’s sarcastic and disrespectful tone as he helped the former Predacon. One of the biggest things that annoyed Howl the most was when others referred to him as “Kup’s Pet”. It was a derogatory nick name that most used to insult the hunter and while Hex had not spoken that specific phrase, he was still utilizing words that basically meant the same thing. Fido, dog breath, calling him a boy and offering him a biscuit were all idioms that referred to human pets. The tracker was no expert on domesticated Earth animals, but he was familiar with the canine species and the relationship they had to their wild cousins the wolves. It was something Howl had learned about when he initially chose the timber wolf as his new alt mode.

Once Hex had showed him what to do and where to start scanning, Howlstrike glared back at the silver mech. “Thank you for your help, Hex,” the ex-Predacon growled in a very non appreciative way before grabbing a hold of Hex’s right arm and pulling the young mech closer to him. “But, if you ever refer to me as someone’s pet again, the only biscuit I will be eating....grrrr....is you! Got it, Tiny?” Their faceplates were now so close to one another that Hex was surely able to smell Howl’s supposed "dog breath" quite easily.

After a few more astroseconds had passed to allow the smaller mech time to breath in the stench, Howlstrike let go of Hex’s arm and returned his attention to the computer screen in front of him. The hunter cared not how the silver ‘Bot reacted to his sudden aggression. Hex was just lucky that manhandling him a bit was all that had occurred.
Wasting no further time playing with those half his size, the former Predacon picked up where Hex had left off and managed to get the scanners to initiate a cross hatch pattern beginning over Indonesia and working north towards the Philippines and the South China Sea. All the while, the tracker kept his optics trained for any signs of a Cybertronian signature.

“I still think we’re wasting time looking for their signatures. They’re going to be shielded from these simple scans," Howlstrike reiterated his previous sentiment. "We should be searching for something else, like signs of an attack on a human installation. But, what do I know? I’m just a dog, right?” The hunter glared over at Hex once again as a warning not to answer that question since it was rhetorical in nature and required no smart aft response.
_________

Hardhead glanced over at Rodimus who was seated at a terminal across the room and gave his master a slight nod of understanding before returning his observations to Ricochet’s futile attempts to locate the Decepticons in the Western Hemisphere. The gunner was leaning in front of the war veteran further and further as he focused the scans on certain barren areas of North America. “Would you like to sit here, Ricochet?” Hardhead asked as he sat as far back as his chair would allow in order to give the marksman more space to operate.

“Yes, actually, it would make my work a lot easier,” Ricochet replied without so much as a thank you. Once the seat was vacated, the impatient gunner quickly sat down and swiftly worked the controls, maneuvering the scans over the Northern most parts of Canada first where the thick forests would be perfect for a new base. Once that area had been adequately covered, Ricochet zeroed in on Death Valley before then concentrating on the Gulf of Mexico. All three regions came up negative for any signs of Decepticon activity. “Slaggit! I found nothing! They’ve got to be here somewhere. I just have to do a more through search.”

“Don’t forget Middle and South America,” Hardhead interjected, having taken up a position directly behind the gunner’s chair. “You’ve only scanned the northern half of the hemisphere so far.”

“I know that! Don’t you think I know that?!” Ricochet shouted before bringing his voice back down to normal levels. “Ahem, I was just getting to the southern region. Believe me, I know what I’m doing here,” the marksmen assured Hardhead and the other mechs gathered around him as he then trained the scans on Mexico first before moving down the grid map that glowed on the monitor in front of his optics. Still no signs of the enemy's presence, but the gunner was not about to give up. His reputation was on the line, after all, as everyone was looking to him for the desired results since their only other option was a filthy Predacon.

In a sense of extreme competitiveness, Ricochet glanced back to see what progress, if any, Howlstrike was making. Hex, of course, seemed to be doing most of the work, calling the former Predacon derogatory names all the while. None of that was surprising in the least, and it made the expert marksman chuckle under his breath. That moment of humor quickly disappeared when Ricochet saw the wolf-former lose control and lash out at the young mech, threatening him with violence. “Hey, Rodimus, maybe you should put a leash on that dog-bot of yours before he ends up injuring someone!”

Bridge

Freeway grinned as Silverbolt made the suggestion that he should go along, he had always respected that big mech, knew he was a quality leader. It was quite a relief to know that he was going planet side and get off the stifling boredom that purveyed being on board the Guardian, “Looks like my prayers have been answered, can't wait to get down to that dirt ball of a planet, stretch my legs and rev my engine,” a scouting mission sounded perfect, low risk but still needing his skills.

Prowl wanted them to go to the medical bay in order to under go a recharge, “Well, I'm not going to argue with that, I need a bit of tune up. I just need to grab some personal items from my room,” whilst the Guardian had its own armoury which Freeway would no doubt be given access to for this mission, it lacked a few of the more unusual items that Freeway liked to use when sabotaging and preparing booby traps. Trip wires, pressure pads, laser lines, specialised acids and rusting agents, with those and a certain frame of mind that Freeway possessed he could happily wreak havoc.

Heading off the bridge, Freeway began to make his way to his quarters to grab some of his things, which would also include a small tool set to help set-up traps. Maybe he would not be called upon to do any of that, after all it was only a scouting mission but Freeway knew from experience that occasionally things did not go to plan.

Infirmary

Nova Strike stood at the threshold of the dreaded Infirmary. He hated the medical facilities, regardless of side, condition or even personnel. The facts were that they tended to keep him from doing what he did best. The other fact was, more often than not he tended to spend one moment deep behind enemy lines, surrounded and pounding defenders who attempted to prevent him from taking out a specific target... and then waking the next inside the sterile confines of a surgery chamber. The warrior's fingers flexed briefly before he pressed his palm on the access pad. He realized his hatred for these facilities was misplaced fear and was, as Minerva called it, an irrational distrust of crabby surgeons, The thought caused him to briefly smile as the doors retracted into the gun metal gray bulkhead.

The ranger rubbed his sealed holster locks and sucked in a bit of atmosphere as he crossed over the threshold and allowed his optics to scan the lively inhabitants of this reclusive habitat. His fingers curled into a fist but he willed them to relax. Orders were orders... tune up, fuel up and ship out.

Finally his optics settled on a zone that contained Ratchet, the chief medical officer of the entire sector, and Silverbolt the flier squadron currently assigned to this division. Nova had no real issue with either mechanism, in fact he had had little to no experience with either. Still he was hesitant to approach them. They were superior officers, the sorts who issued instructions to mechs like him, impossible tasks that only he could accomplish, then sit back and wait for him to be carried back on a stretcher. At least he got the job done before those events typically happened.

Nova shook his head and approached the duo. "Good cycle to you Commander... And to you Doc." His tone was as good a nature as he could muster, though inwardly he harbored doubts and mistrust for anyone who spent their times avoiding the conflicts they had so long endured. "I am already for my check up, though I am sure its only a formality. So lets get this underway so we can get to work."