The Energon Pub

Main Science Lab

Skids clapped his hands together. “Well, we won’t know anything unless we give things a try,” he said in response to Ironfist’s further postulations. “We should grab a sample of bots and conduct some tests based on our hypotheses. See what sticks. I, for one, think we should grab a few of the Aerialbots if they’re not busy. Protectobots too. I’m sure some Bots have a little down time. It wouldn’t hurt to grab people at random either, just so we can get a baseline of some sort.”

The navy blue theoretician spread his arms out toward the other experts in the room in a sweeping gestue. He didn’t know about them, but Skids was more than ready to dive into the more hands-on side of this project. It was how he tended to learn best. Not that he couldn’t learn in other ways with similar efficiency, he just found that kinesthetic learning was the most rapid.

“Jetfire, do you think the main lab will be big enough to suit our needs?” Skids asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “We could take over a larger portion of the ship if needed. The mess hall wouldn’t be bad.”

From where he sat in his chair, Rewind recorded the proceedings diligently. But he was feeling a bit…well. Sluggish. He rubbed his neck tentatively, the newly restored connections there aching quite a bit. The tiny archivist couldn’t help but wonder if he would be more comfortable laying down somewhere. He had felt fairly alright after having woken up, but now? Rewind wasn’t so sure.

The red light of his camera flicked off as Rewind hopped down from his seat. He glanced around at the congregated mechs. He didn’t really want to disturb them while they were in the thick of things, but if he left without a word, Chromedome would more than likely worry. After a moment’s deliberation, he opened a comm link to the mnemosurgeon.

>>”Domey? I’m…feeling kind of rough. It’s nothing serious,”<< he promised quickly, >>”But. Yeah. I think I’ll head back to the med bay to get some rest.”<< As he spoke, the black cassettobot moved toward the exit. He gave a little wave of farewell to First Aid if only to let the doctor know that he was leaving.

Pausing at the door, Rewind looked over to Chromedome to make sure that he had gotten his message.

Main Science Lab

"I would agree with the assessment for our testing, Skids. One I would want to also test is SlamDance of Blaster's unit. Rewind might have a more personal view of how the two work together as well as their combination ability. As for your suggestion for more space, I was thinking of the auxiliary science labs down the hallway. One could be used for the spark energies and the other for the CNA testing. The biggest obstacle is to find a way to make these tests portable in the near future. From the pure research aspect, we would want to scan every Autobot in this sector but reality dictates this would be impractical for the time being. If anything, we could do it over the orns during our check ups with Ratchet or some of the other medical mechs we have. As for the mess hall, it could be used as a waiting room of sorts."

After looking around at the assembled group, he decided on the ones who would be doing the testing once the devices were operational.

"Iron Fist, since the spark idea is yours, I'll let you be in charge of it. If I remember right, there is something called a mitotic spark we should be looking for as well for clues. First Aid will have the pleasure of scanning for anything that the two groups have in common in their CNA. The rest of us will be working on possible designs off of the Protectobots and Aerialbots. We need them to be the best we can get them physically if they intended to fend off Devestator. I'll summon the Aerialbots, Protectobots, and Blaster to Auxiliary Lab One for First Aid to get the CNA samples and once they get done there Iron Fist will have them in Auxiliary Lab Two. We can continue making a list while we work on the gestalt designs."

Main Science Laboratory

Ironfist quickly jotted down the pro-offered information into his notes and filed them away on a segregated data slug, along with all of the recorded information and details of this initial briefing for Project Superior Titan. With the thumb of his left hand, the weapons designer and chief engineer of the Autobot Frigate Guardian ejected the slug and slid it into a protective compartment within his wrist. "That would be partially acceptable Jetfire. First Aid and I can head to the Ark immediately in order to begin establishing a baseline for the necessary scans as well as begin testing a random sampling of that vessel's crew."

He stepped out onto the main floor of the laboratory and walked through a slowly rotating Autobot Symbol, which had replaced the initial projected example of the possible spark frequencies and combinations that disappeared with the deactivation of Ironfist's terminal. A quick glance at the Protectobot medic offered simple nod before he returned his attention to Skids, Chromedome and Jetfire. "I would, however, recommend a different venue for your portion of this challenge Jetfire. During our session, I was alerted to the recent docking of the Autobot Warship Trion. A magnificent feet of weaponry harnessed by the most modern technology we have conceived to date... even rediscovered technology, at least as rumors have it."

Ironfist coughed into a closed right fist in order to stop himself from delving into his passion of a finely honed gun, even if they were the size of sky scrapers, and instead focus on the task at hand. "If those alerts are correct, which I have no reason to believe they would not be... although it is still a touch early for that vessel's launch, I believe it would behoove you, Chromedome and Skids to relocate to that ship's facilities. While it is not necessarily dedicated to the sciences, it should still provide the newest scientific equipment, machinery and scanners that would assist in your task. If that is not entirely palatable, they could be transferred to the Ark 22 as well, and establish a subsidiary junction with Wheeljack's Lab."

"Course those are two of many options Jetfire."

Armory

Nova Strike tested his compressed air holster launcher in dry mode, loading one of his blasters in to the launcher and allowing it to be thrown out of his hip at high speed. He reached up and pulled it from the sanitized recycled air environment of the Armory and spun the blaster in his fingers before resting the weapon in the palm of his right hand. "I've read up on the sensor readings," he spoke slowly as his optics carefully traced over every inch of the Magnum class blaster for any sign of imperfection or damage. "According to those sensor scans, before that wave of dark energy swept over the planet obscuring the island, those missiles were split up. One in the naval base in the heart of the largest island's natural shallow harbor. The other would be along the mountain region of the same island. Both in military installations and without question heavily guarded."

Nova Strike slipped the blaster back into his right hip holster and felt the automatic cables lance out from the interior of his leg and plug into the weapon in order to begin its rapid recharge. The ranger then repeated the procedure with the left gun, catching it on the second revolution, faster than the first, and aimed it down the sights at the nearest reflective surface. "In other words, its the perfect place for the likes of Hardhead or Warpath, or scrap even Seaspray. All of us are pretty much sharkticons out of a hydrogen deuterium medium." He slid the weapon back into his holster after another thorough inspection. A pair of silver spheres soon launched from each holster's sub weapon's conveyor and hovered in the air at arms length and height away from the Ranger. He reached out and plucked them from the air and thumbed the deactivation nodes on each device before sliding them back into their protective reinforced housing.

As the doors to his holsters slid closed, Nova Strike glanced over towards a rack of bladed weapons. "My alt form is probably the most flexible in this situation Prowl. These Humans are just like any other species. They love to flaunt success. Using their credits, or whatever form of monitory compensation they use, they will do what it takes to show off to those who they have surpassed... whether it is earned or not."

The ranger pulled a long retractable two pronged sword from the rack and tested its heft. He swung it twice and offered a small smirk of satisfaction and a silent self promise to download a few new gigaquads of information regarding on how best to use that type of weapon. Nova swung it a third time before returning it to the rack and reaching over to the console he had used when he had initially entered the chamber. "That being said, I have had a little bit of time to create a small plan to at least get us a better lay of the land... so to speak."

The monitor above the console flickered to life to reveal a detailed map of Honolulu and its surrounding geography. After a few moments a golden square appeared on the outskirts of the city, at the foot of the volcano and a bit south, of the Wheeler Joint Army Air Force Base. "This building here is an old fire house. Built approximately fifteen years before their second global war. From public records, this site is no longer in use and is considered available for a relatively modest amount of local currency. It should suit our needs for at least a centralized location to compare notes and further modify our tactics as the situations change and materialize. That is of course we are willing to commit a small portable computer base terminal to that site."

He waved his hand again, this time dragging the square and causing to split into two, and surround the last known sensor coordinates of the weapon readings. "As far as these two go. Our best bets are to split up. Two of us hit the naval base while the others infiltrate and investigate Wheeler. I would expect that given that, at least from local historical data, the Naval Base is the primary command of the American armed forces in the entire hydrogen dioxide body... err Pacific Ocean... that that is where we will find the more influential officers and members of government." The ranger paused briefly as he rubbed his chin. Infiltrating enemy installations, working behind the lines, hitting targets all fell under his purview of experiences... so his deductions at least felt logical to him. Of course he had no direct experience with the organic species known as Homo Sapiens, thus it could be entirely reversed in his reasoning. Still it felt as though anyone who was to oversee an entire military theater of war would plant their flag at the very heart of their command.

"As far as Wheeler goes, its as expansive and probably just as secured... if not more so. It would probably take three to effectively cover the ground in a reasonable time. I recommend that either group chooses a single front mechanism who deals with the humans directly, to distract from the others searching. At the end of our shifts we meet back at our temporary base of operations, and compare notes." The blue ranger looked back at Prowl. "Course these are only basic mission suggestions Sir. Ones that can be expanded and develop further upon our arrival at this firehouse."

Medical Bay: Security Isolation Ward

Ultra Magnus paused briefly, his optics locked onto the immobile Megatron. His expression was immediately scrubbed of the anger that he felt, the hatred and desire for wrath he harbored against the captured Decepticon Leader. The Autobot knew he was being baited, knew Megatron... while attempting to be defiant to the very last, was attempting to garner information that could be of value to him later. Still it mattered little. He also knew that whatever information that was granted to the prisoner, it would not prove valuable enough in the short or long term. Magnus had already decided the start of the tyrant's fate...

"I wish I could say the same is true to similar quality with regards to your number Megatron." Magnus responded with the same stern tone of voice he had employed in his initial address. Still at the back of his mind the pressure to simply end the miserable usurper's existence gnawed at him. But again, he was a mechanism of law... and revenge served no direct purpose. Instead he walked over to the prone dictator and loomed over him, his massive shadow blocking out the light from the overhead illumination strips.

A flash of blue tore across his optics, adding ghastly glow upon Megatron's gunmetal armored surface. "As far as what follows is also spelled out Megatron. You will be debriefed..." He folded his arms over his massive chest and continued to look down upon the enemy. "Our jurisdiction here for either side is not in question... nor should it ever be. Once you have been properly evaluated, and your debriefing is deemed concluded, you will be brought before a Cybertronian Tribunal. You will have your opportunity to plead your innocence, though I doubt that given your specific past, such a defense will serve you any better than landing a potentially more harmful sentence."

Ultra Magnus turned from his stare down of Megatron, knowing full well that the Decepticon would not fear what fate had in store, as the sound of the final security lock on the isolated ward hissed back to life. Pharma, a medic under Ratchet's direct command and direction, reported for assignment and immediately went to work medically evaluating the prisoner. It was not an expected development, but perhaps it was a touch better than having the crotchety doctor... though it wasn't a marked improvement.

"Your will," Magnus glanced back down at Megatron. "Has no influence here. Not so long as there are those who will stand up against your ego maniacal drive for empire." He pivoted on his heel and made his way towards the edge of magnetic slab.

He lowered his voice as he approached the newly arrived medic. "Pharma, I trust Ratchet has filled you in on the present details regarding our current prisoner. As of now I am making this a need to know classified situation." It was rare that Ultra Magnus invoked such tight security around anyone or anything that transpired... particularly because he believed that in many instances the better access one had to information and input of opinion, the better he would be able to act to resolve a situation. Of course this matter was quite different. "Repair him as per agreed treaties and involve no others in this process... I want him ready for transport within the next ten breems."

Magnus then looked over to Jazz and kept his voice as low so that even the superb hearing of Megatron could not hear. "In addition to having that cannon of his analyzed by Ironfist, I want you to resume your studies. I need your analysis on my desk by the end of our next stellar rotation."

As he spoke to the two Autobots, Ultra Magnus began running calculations in his processor. He knew that he had another operation to undertake before the cycle was out. Especially after the battle and fall out of Australia. He paused his conversation with Jazz and Pharma and initiated a private secured communication line to the bridge.

Streetwise, set a course to the orbit of the first planet of this system. Prepare for departure within the next twenty breems. All teams are to be warned at accelerated departure time. Do not use ship wide communications... Ship wide communications are to be avoided unless level Alpha Emergency event.

He accepted the acknowledgement and closed the channel. He figured that by that time, Prowl's team would be well on its way and Grimlock's units would be safely transferred to the Trion for deployment. Ultra Magnus looked back towards Megatron and gauged the wounded gladiator for a moment. "How in did you end up this way anyways?"

Armory

Prowl had said that he was open to any and all ideas. Thus, he expected to hear suggestions from each member of the team except for Hot Spot, of course, who was already down in the bounce chamber. What the military strategist got, however, was Nova Strike providing him with a detailed plan on how to proceed. Clearly the ranger had done his homework, having thoroughly read up on the sensor readings. The black and white checked his own data slate and confirmed internally to himself that Nova was correct. The two missiles had been split up and stowed away on a pair of military installations – the Wheeler Army Airfield and the Pearl Harbor-Hickam Joint Base. Both were located on Oahu, Hawaii, which was actually the third largest island in the chain and not the largest. But, size mattered little here as the fact that each rocket was now in a different place, both heavily guarded, and thus made their recovery more complicated and potentially time consuming.

Regardless, they would have to deal with this new hurdle and overcome it. Prowl remained quiet as Nova Strike detailed his plan, assuring the strategist that his alt mode would be most flexible as the humans liked to show off their success. That was true especially for someone with a high quantity of money. Still, there were the fire vehicles to consider, but again Prowl said nothing and allowed the ranger to continue. And continue he did as Nova brought up a detailed map of Honolulu on a monitor along with a fire house at the foot of a dormant volcano. The idea was to use this abandoned site as a temporary base to plan. From there they would split up into two teams, one would infiltrate Pearl Harbor and the other would infiltrate the Wheeler Army Airfield. At the end of their shifts they would return to the fire house and compare notes.

It was all very interesting and Nova Strike had obviously given it a lot of thought. However, Prowl remained dubious of some of the suggestions offered and when no one else decided to chime in, the black and white spoke up. “Well, Nova Strike, I must say that was a very comprehensive plan you’ve come up with. I must admit I wasn’t expecting that level of detail. Perhaps you should be my second in command, instead. Heh,” the strategist commented with a slight chuckle that quickly dissipated before Prowl continued. “However, I do have a few issues with your plan. For starters, we don’t have the time to purchase any abandoned structure be it a fire house or other building. Buying real estate is not a quick process and can take days or even weeks to ultimately conclude. We don’t have that kind of time frame here. This is a get in and get out type of mission as quick as possible without breaking infiltration protocols. That being said, I’m not against establishing a temporary base to start from, but this fire house is not it.”

“Besides,” Prowl continued unabated. “The location of the fire house is not really suitable to the overall operation. As you pointed out, it is located at the bottom of the volcano which, according to the map, is called Diamond Head and is just to the southeast of Honolulu. The city, itself, is already to the southeast of the Pearl Harbor-Hickam Joint Base. Wheeler is well north of Pearl Harbor in the very center of Oahu island. So, while the fire house is in closer proximity to the naval base it is way too far south of Wheeler to be effective. We need a place somewhere between the two bases. Therefore, we should be looking in the region just to the north of Pearl Harbor.” The prick-bot leaned forward and pointed to the map on the monitor. “Somewhere in this vicinity. A large abandoned factory or even a sizable cave would suffice to house the five of us along with a portable computer base that you have suggested.”

Prowl then paused for a moment to allow what he had said to sink in. “Once we are set up we will do like you said and split into two teams. However, at this point both squads will only scout around the outside perimeters of each base in order to see what exactly we are dealing with in regards to security. Our sensors and orbital imagery have already given us a pretty detailed layout of the facilities, but additional scans will be required to help us zero in on the approximate locations of each missile. If we are able to narrow down or even pinpoint their exact coordinates then that will make things so much easier. If not, we will have to wait until we are actually on the bases, themselves.

“Now, once the scouting portion is done, we will return to our camp and make our final preparations to infiltrate the bases. I will say this, though. Once we have successfully gained access to both installations and are on the grounds we are not leaving until those missiles are either within our custody or destroyed. Is that clear? We get in and we get out. Nothing more fancy than that.” The black and white shifted his optics from Nova Strike over to the rest of the team before his gaze fell back to the ranger. “It’ll likely be hard enough to infiltrate those bases once let alone twice and we still have the inevitable Decepticon factor to worry about. Thus time is of the essence.”

Allowing his words to linger in the air, Prowl stood back to his full height. “As to your point regarding Hardhead and Warpath, you are correct. Their alt modes would be useful for this mission. Unfortunately, they are both currently unavailable. However, I think that there is one mech who is not busy and will fit in perfectly." The military strategist had not considered adding a sixth member to their team before, but it was now obvious that one was needed to help balance things out once they were down on the Earth's surface. As a result, the black and white opened his comm line to a certain green scout:

>>”Hound, this is Prowl. You are being reassigned under my command. Report to the armory immediately for mission debriefing and rearming procedures.”<<

A moment later a reply came across his comm line:

>>”Understood, Prowl. I’m on my way.”<<

Once the response from Hound was received, Prowl cut his comm line and looked back at the group. “Excellent. Our new member will be here shortly. In the meantime, if you’ll all excuse me for a moment, I need to modify my outward appearance as I previously specified.”

The military strategist immediately moved over to one of the equipment alcoves along a nearby wall and stood in front of the control console. Unlike what Nova Strike had to just recently endure, Prowl’s modifications would only be superficial in nature. Once the proper commands were entered, the black and white stepped up into the confines of the alcove and rested his body back against the vertical slab. Within astroseconds, two mechanical appendages lowered from above and began altering the wording on both of his door wings.

Medical Bay-–Security Isolation Ward

An Autobot medic had approached. Megatron's posture on the slab stiffened instinctively, having no idea what the Autobots intended to do with him and certainly not enjoying the lack of control over his current circumstances. He looked like Ratchet, but Ratchet he was not.

“I’m here to satisfy Article 7 of the Autobot Code. Of course he didn’t exactly surrender now did he.”

"Nor would I--ever--Autobot," Megatron growled as the medic set about conducting his routine procedures, customary for prisoners-of-war. Magnus then continued his earlier schpiel.

"As far as what follows is also spelled out Megatron. You will be debriefed...Our jurisdiction here for either side is not in question... nor should it ever be. Once you have been properly evaluated, and your debriefing is deemed concluded, you will be brought before a Cybertronian Tribunal. You will have your opportunity to plead your innocence, though I doubt that given your specific past, such a defense will serve you any better than landing a potentially more harmful sentence."

Megatron laughed derisively, the sound echoing eerily throughout the isolation ward before quietly vanishing into the soft din of the machinery in the room.

"Oh but it is in question, Magnus. You know it as well as I do. Perhaps even better."

Megatron's gaze drifted upward, processing the specifics of his current situation. Ultra Magnus was clearly loath to reveal much of anything. It mattered little. Megatron would put the pieces together on his own. Whether it was here, the brig of the Nemesis, the dungeons of Kolkular, the mines of Garrus-9 or anywhere else in the universe, Megatron would free himself of this prison. So long as his spark still flickered, time would be on his side and eventually a flaw in the system would reveal itself that he could critically exploit.

"Your will has no influence here. Not so long as there are those who will stand up against your ego maniacal drive for empire."

At that, Megatron smirked.

"Spoken like the Primes of old that you so desperately wish to emulate, Magnus."

"How in did you end up this way anyways?"

Megatron's blistering-red optics narrowed slightly.

"You know as much as I do...for the moment. Does your Prime and his Matrix not have the answers this time?"

Bounce Chamber

Hot Spot was a mech of action. Waiting on the group to equip was tedious but needed considering a good number of them unloaded everything they had against the Fallen's mess not too long ago. The hope is none of them would have to use their ammo unless the Cons show up and only then away from the humans. While he waited, his internal comm system notified him of a waiting message. to his surprise it was Cliffjumper. The message made little sense but maybe the mech was completely lost on the ship.

>>Cliffjumper, there are several consoles with maps along the wall. There are a few who are already in the armory but they are prepping for a mission which I'm also apart. You may want to wait until it is empty because Prowl should be in there as well.<<

Thinking about the Autobot second in command, he wondered what was taking them so long. Hot Spot walked over to the console and open a line only to the armory.

"Prowl and the rest of the team, what is your ETA to the bounce pad? Are there any changes I need to be notified about?"

While he waited, Hot Spot triple checked the coordinates for their bounce. With the terrain being rather volcanic in nature, it would not be good to land in an open heat vent or worse.

Corridors leading from the MedBay:

>>Cliffjumper, there are several consoles with maps along the wall. There are a few who are already in the armory but they are prepping for a mission which I'm also apart. You may want to wait until it is empty because Prowl should be in there as well.<<

Cliffjumper looked around and saw one of consoles on the wall. "Why had I not seen this?" Cliff asked. He then responded to Hot Spot.

>>Um, I don't know why I didn't notice those. I guess it's this pounding head-ache messing up my ability to pay attention. Thanks sir.<<

Cliffjumper felt embarrassed, but not for long. He went over and looked at the map. "Uhh let me see here... Prowl and some of the others are having a meeting in the armory. I guess I'll go do something else while I wait." Cliff took a bit to look at the map and decide where to go to next. "For a frigate, this thing doesn't have a horribly large selection of places to go."

Cliff thought for a second. "Maybe I should go back to the medical area to show myself as recovering, as well as check on some others." Cliffjumper went back.

Medical Bay – Secluded Area

Cliff entered the secluded area of the Medical Bay. He saw Blurr, Grapple, and Side Burn chatting. "Hey fellas! Everyone alright?" Cliffjumper held his head, "uhh, this ringing headache. Is it normal to have a headache after being in a CR chamber?" Cliffjumper looked down at Side Burn's leg. "Wow Side Burn bro, I see your leg got hit. Man that looks painful. You alright?"

Outside the bounce chamber

Ironhide was getting impatient. He had nothing to do. The battle was over, everyone was licking their wounds or busy making more plans. Where were the leadership? If they can even be called that. They certainly don't seem to have it together. Like they don't know how to go on. Ironhide knew that this was all a game in the end, and those in charge currently didn't know how to play. Where was Prime? What happened to Hot Rod? Ironhide knew he had been possessed, but that he survived. Ironhide hoped the young bot would make it. But now...it was time to make himself useful.

"Pipes!" he said to his smaller friend. "Let's go. I'm not sure how this works, but it'll take us somewhere. Anywhere is better than here."

"Are you sure?" Pipes asked. "Maybe they will need us..."

"They won't." Ironhide cut him off. "If they did, they would have spoken to us already. It looks like we're bein' left out of the loop here. No matter, we'll make ourselves useful somewhere else. Let's go."

Just at that moment, Starfire walked around the corner with Arcee.

"Ooooh!" Pipes said excitedly. "It's her again!"

"Hey, guys!" Arcee said, waving. "What are you up to?"

"We were going to see where we can make ourselves more useful. This is borin' and a little insultin', being here." Ironhide said. "Nobody will talk to us. Looks like everyone has somethin' better to do. I guess all my previous accomplishments mean diddly squat 'round here."

"Oh, don't get so worked up. They're all busy." Arcee answered. "I wanted to see Hot Rod, but he was in the operating room in the med bay, and it could be a long time before he is well enough to walk and talk. So Starfire and I figured we'd look for something else as well."

"Wanna come with us?" Pipes asked eagerly.

Starfire smiled at him, noticing how Pipes was acting around her.

"We could use some new scenery." she answered. "Where are you going?"

"No idea." Pipes said. "Ol' grumpy-pants here just wants to get in the chamber and let it take us anywhere from this stagnant place, since we're not bein' included in anythin'."

"Hmm." Arcee said with a smirk. "Could be fun."

"Alright!" Pipes said. "So you're in?"

Arcee and Starfire looked at each other and smirked.

"Sure. Let's go." Arcee answered.

They all stepped in, and the chamber was activated.

"So where are we goin'?" Pipes asked, as they noticed something unusual.

Smoke. They couldn't see where it came from, but it was there, filling up the area.

"Is somethin' burnin'?" Ironhide asked.

"Looks like the panel controlling the chamber is malfunctioning!" Starfire said with alarm in her voice.

"Are ya sure it's..." Ironhide started to say, but then...

...they all vanished. What happened? All 4 of them were gone, without any indication where. The equipment malfunctioned somewhere, and their destination wasn't specified to begin wih. They could be anywhere. Within the chamber's limits, that is.

Cybertron – The Distant Past (Hot Rod's Unconscious Mind)

Darkness surrounded him. It was like a magnetic cloud that Hot Rod just couldn’t seem to shake no matter how far he traveled forward. Was this the Afterspark? Was he dead finally? He remembered awakening in a med bay not long ago, or was it long ago? He couldn’t remember. It seemed like another life in another time. It was all so very fuzzy in his processor now. All he knew was that he seemed to not exist at all anymore. He was barely conscious that he even had a body. Considering the pitch blackness around him, it was hard to see anything, including himself.

However, that soon began to change as a faint light appeared way ahead in the distance. It started out small and quickly grew larger as Hot Rod moved steadily towards it. Before long he had come to a doorway, one just big enough for him to step through. He hesitated, of course, not knowing what to expect on the other side. But what other choice did he have? It was either continued darkness or stepping into the light. The decision seemed obvious, but the flame-covered mech’s hesitation continued a bit longer.

"Cross over, Rodimus."

There was that voice again calling him that name again. Or was it multiple voices? The Autobot cavalier could not tell nor did it matter. They had spoken to him before in a dream or vision. Again, he didn’t know which and again it did not matter. It was all very confusing to him. Ever since his possession by the dark entity called the Fallen, Hot Rod had trouble differentiating between what was real and what was not. Perhaps he should stop trying and just go where the voices lead him. Yes, perhaps that’s what he should do. Then maybe he would get some answers.

Finally, stepping across the threshold, Hot Rod exited the darkness and entered into the light. Except it was not a bright light as he had anticipated. There was some light cast from the stars above and from various buildings and other structures around him. He was on Cybertron at night sometime before it had been decimated by their civil war. His internal chronometer was not working. Why would it? He was in a dream, after all, or vision. The exact cycle was irrelevant. To see his homeworld still alive and full of life was enough to put a smile on his faceplate.

“Come on! This way!” Another voice suddenly shouted. Hot Rod spun around to see two mechs running towards him. He couldn’t tell at first if they were Autobots or Decepticons and thus the cavalier reached for his weapon only to find that it was gone. Before Hot Rod could move out of the way, the two mechs ran right through him as though he was nothing more than a mere hologram, like he wasn’t even there.

They didn’t see me. Perhaps I am dead, Hot Rod thought. No. If that were the case, why would I be in the past? Why would I be here? It doesn’t make sense? This has to be a dream of some sort. There has to be a reason for all this and I need to find out what it is.

Hot Rod followed after the two mechs, running in order to keep pace. His curiosity had gotten the better of him. Neither one was wearing an Auto-brand, nor were they wearing a Con symbol. So, who were they? Civilians? Regardless, he followed until he had rounded a corner and entered a large open area. A short distance away, a frigate sized ship was resting on the surface. The two mechs that had run though him slowed as they approached the spacecraft. Hot Rod moved forward again until he had caught up to them, walking directly behind the duo.

“You two are late,” a third mech shouted at them as he descended the vessel’s entrance ramp. This individual also lacked a brand of any kind. “We’re on a tight schedule. We need to take off ASAP if this mission has any chance of succeeding at all.”

“We know, Captain,” one of the mechs replied as he and his companion stopped at the bottom of the ramp. “We had to take the long way here to avoid a Decepticon patrol.”

“You weren’t followed were you?” The captain asked, a look of concern forming on his visage.

“No, um, of course not,” one mech said as he looked to the other before returning his attention to the captain.

“You two better not have been. Now, get on board before I tear the both of you new aft sections!”

“Yes, sir!” The duo said in unison before they began rushing up the ramp.

“And once you’re in there run one final diagnostic on the quantum engines before we take off. I don’t want anything to go wrong once we’re in the air! Understood?”

“Understood, sir,” one mech responded before they both disappeared into the frigate.

“They’re good mechs, but they’re not going to make it,” the captain stated seemingly to no one in particular before turning around to look directly at Hot Rod.

“What?” The cavalier questioned with a surprised expression. “Are you talking to me?”

“They’re going to die, Rodimus, and so am I,” the captain continued, keeping his optics fixated on the flame-painted Autobot. “This mission was doomed to fail from the start, but someone had to begin the journey. In order to save Cybertron, save all of us, someone had to take those first steps into the unknown. Now, we need you to finish it.”

“Me? You want me to...wait. Finish what?”

“Finish it, Rodimus. Find us. Find this ship and complete the mission. Finish our quest!” The captain said as he moved closer to the confused cavalier.

“Stop calling me that! And what quest? What are you talking about?!” Hot Rod demanded, taking a step back.

“The Quest for Salvation!”

“Whose salvation? I don’t understand.”

“Ours, all of us...” the captain paused and placed a hand on Hot Rod’s shoulder plate. “...and yours.”

Before anything more could be said, ice suddenly consumed the captain from head to foot, freezing him solid. The ice then quickly spread across the metal ground as intense winds came out of nowhere, blowing in more ice along with snow that just as swiftly covered the entire frigate. Hot Rod stumbled back and away from the frozen captain, breaking off the mech’s extended arm in the process. The cavalier fell onto his aft as the blizzard consumed everything in a cold blinding whiteness.

Then, within astroseconds, Hot Rod wasn’t on Cybertron any longer. He was somewhere else, a similar place like the one he had ended up in his last dream or vision. This time the cavalier was in a cavern, deep under the ice. The wind and snow had stopped and the captain was gone. Only a frigate-sized ship encased in ice remained. But where was this exactly? Was this on Earth or another planet?

"Quiet your mind and you will hear them calling to you."

“That’s really not helpful,” an agitated Hot Rod replied to the disembodied voice. He let out a deep sigh as the images around him slowly dissolved and faded away, leaving him once again alone in darkness.

Medical Bay: Isolated Security Ward

Ultra Magnus's optics narrowed ever so slightly as he studied the immobile Decepticon Supreme Commander. He folded his arms over his broad chest and glared down at the gray tyrant and allowed his body language to remain absolutely neutral, allowing the comments regarding those he most respected to slide into the ether. Instead the Autobot Commander decided to broach the topic from a different angle.

"His version of events are probably as similar as they are dissimilar Megatron. As you are aware, each of our telling of experiences are often colored by our personal points of view." Magnus again studied the Decepticon. Getting details from the Slagmaker, the Terror of Tarn, would not be an easy task. In fact Magnus reasoned that it would be close to impossible to break down the iron egocentric shell that Megatron had erected over the last several mega stellar cycles.

As Magnus pondered exactly how to address Megatron, an emergency signal came across a little used frequency. Ultra Magnus did not move but internally activated the signal and sent it through the standard encryption protocols built into his on board tactical computers. It was then his optics widened ever so slightly, barely noticeable to any who were not directly watching him and his movements. "Sky Lynx?" he sent over the encrypted channel. "What in the name of... never mind that. Probably not the most opportune time for a discussion. I will explain the details later, but for now... I am currently in command of this sector.

Magnus was well aware of the Dinobird's most recent assignment in the defense of the Autobot Shipyards in Cas Collier. He was also well aware of how seriously the powerful mechanism took his role, even if it was considered beneath his incredible abilities. Of course given the present strength of the Autobot Fleet and how thin it had been spread, Sky Lynx's assignment to those shipyards had been a necessity. "I am presently in the middle of a rather delicate situation at the moment. So I need a clearer picture as to what you deem as an 'urgent' matter?"

As he waited for the quiet reply from the powerful Autobot Shuttleformer, Magnus's gaze remained almost transfixed on Megatron. "Alright Megatron, let us try this from a different angle. Perhaps you can help fill in some of the blanks on the pages of the last few days since your disappearance."

Armory

Red Alert listened idly to Nova Strike’s response to his earlier query, but he was too consumed in double-checking a mental checklist to respond. Even when Prowl arrived – the source of some of his more recent agony – and Nova rolled out an elaborate plan – kind of unlike the ranger to do really – and Prowl revised and commented on said plan, the security office was still running through the mental checklist for the now umpteenth time. His nerves were shattered after the Fallen incident, and he didn’t expect them to recover anytime soon. So, for the moment, Red was just going to make very, very, very sure that nothing was left to chance in his absence.

As Prowl mentioned something about altering his appearance, Red Alert glanced down at himself. Hm. Perhaps he should arrange something a little more militant. Nothing serious. Just some superficial changes to suit his needs. Entering the modifications into the command console, Red Alert cautiously stepped back into the alcove, eyeing everyone a little suspiciously.

It was not long before the alterations were complete. And in a far less intrusive manner than Nova Strike’s had been. Finishing his last recheck of his mental checklist, the security officer did a few diagnostics on himself and his weapons systems. All was in order. All that was left was to meet with the rest of the team and bounce down. Humans…

They had to retrieve that Cybertronian technology no matter the cost. And without exposing themselves. Red rubbed his arms nervously. Hopefully, he could manage to stay…steady. Stay calm. He looked over to Prowl then Nova then Eject nervously. “If time is of the essence, shouldn’t we be going now? I mean, there’s no telling what the Decepticons will do…”

Armory

As Prowl patiently waited in the equipment alcove for the device to finish altering his paint scheme, the black and white received a transmission from an impatient Protectobot Commander. He hadn’t forgotten about the rest of the team after all.

>>”Hot Spot, this is Prowl down in the Armory with the rest of the team. We’re having a short mission briefing while we make preparations. I had assumed you would wait here until we had all assembled before moving down to the bounce chamber as the armory was our rendezvous area that Magnus had mentioned. Regardless, I assume you have acquired one of the datapads and reviewed the parameters of the mission. Not much has really changed. We have simply been studying the layout of the two military bases the Decepticon missiles are located in and are trying to ascertain the best course of action once we are on the surface. I have logged our discussions thus far and am sending the audio files to you now. We shouldn’t be too much longer and will arrive at your location within the breem. Prowl out.”<<

Cutting his comm line, Prowl turned to look at the others in the room. “Seems Hot Spot is getting a bit impatient waiting for us,” the military strategist commented in a dry tone as the mechanical appendages working on his door wings finished the appropriate alterations. Once the arms had receded into the alcove, the black and white stepped forward and back down into the main armory chamber, looking over both shoulders at the new markings on his door wings. The words “Military Police” now adorned his chassis which should allow him much easier access to either military installation.

“That looks good,” Prowl muttered to himself as he noticed Red Alert exiting one of the other equipment alcoves, now sporting a more militaristic paint scheme, himself. “Not bad, Red. What exactly are you supposed to be now? A military fire chief’s car? I believe some of these bases have their own fire departments on the grounds. You and Hot Spot might be able to gain entry into one of the human installations that way.” The security director then made mention of time being of the essence and that they should probably get going.

“Indeed,” Prowl replied as he turned to look at the ranger. “Nova Strike, if you have anything else to add you can tell us your thoughts on the way down to the bounce chamber. It will certainly save some time. Now, let’s get going.” The military strategist then turned and made his way towards the exit of the armory. Just then the doors parted and a familiar green mech stood at the threshold.

“Oh...hi, Prowl,” Hound said with a surprised expression on his faceplate. “Am I late? I came as soon as I received the call.”

“You’re a bit late, but considering I called you in at the last astrosecond, it’s forgivable,” Prowl responded as he handed one of the datapads over to the scout. “I suggest you study its contents very carefully. It has everything you need to know about the upcoming mission. I’ve also audio logged our conversations during the briefing so you can examine those, as well.” The prick-bot paused for a moment, noticing that the green scout looked a bit different from the last time he saw him. “Did you change something about yourself, Hound? Your appearance is unfamiliar.”

“Ah, yes sir. I upgraded to a new alt mode,” Hound explained, rubbing the back of his cranial unit nervously. “I’m now what the humans call a Humvee. It’s a military vehicle, sir. I figured it made more sense since normal jeeps don’t usually have a gun turret attached to the back. Will this be a problem?”

“No, not at all actually. Your choice is a welcome one and will fit in to our mission parameters perfectly. That and your holographic abilities will most definitely come in handy. Now, gear up and follow us down to the bounce chamber.”

“You got it, sir!” Hound said, giving Prowl a respectful salute before quickly moving around the strategist and over towards one of the weapons lockers where the necessary ammunition was carefully stored. Once he had accessed the locker, the green scout methodically grabbed numerous rocket shells for his shoulder-mounted launcher along with plenty of ammunition for his machine gun and placed them into subspace storage. He then returned to the front of the armory where he stood behind the rest of the team. “All set, sir!”

“If only everyone was as fast and obedient as you,” Prowl said, letting a slight smile escape his visage. “All right, everyone, let’s move out!” The black and white then turned and lead his team out of the armory and into the corridor beyond. Their destination: the bounce chamber.

Medical Bay--Isolated Security Ward

"His version of events are probably as similar as they are dissimilar Megatron. As you are aware, each of our telling of experiences are often colored by our personal points of view."

Megatron's red optics narrowed.

"Only too aware, Magnus," Megatron scoffed, before leaning back against the slab, paying no attention for the moment to the medic's procedures.

Yes, he would see where this scenario took him for a while longer, discover precisely what flaws there were to be exploited and then make his move.

"Alright Megatron, let us try this from a different angle. Perhaps you can help fill in some of the blanks on the pages of the last few days since your disappearance," Ultra Magnus continued, clearly not receiving the answers he would have preferred, thus far. Megatron had no intention of providing them, either. Certainly not before he himself had a better understanding of the situation.

"What's in it for me? You can't possibly expect....me....t-to...."

Megatron's words gradually drifted off, as did his gaze. He was clearly looking at something specific, and yet also very clearly something that was not there.

"...I......."

His body stiffened perceptibly.

"YOU CAN'T KEEP ME HERE FOREVER!!!!" the Slagmaker roared, though his optics were fixated on none of the Autobots currently surrounding him.

Medical Bay – Secluded Area

Blurr wasn’t a particularly patient mech. He couldn’t really help it. He needed to find ways to stay pretty active whether mentally or physically. Waiting around? He just couldn’t do it. That was why he was relieved when Cliffjumper walked in. Their conversation had hit something of a lull – in Blurr’s mind anyhow.

"Hey fellas! Everyone alright?"

“Hey, Cliff!” Blurr said with a cheerful wave. “I dunno if that’s normal. Maybe you should get that checked? Though, the medics are pretty busy with other cases at the moment. Some weirdness happened earlier as well.”

Blurr pointed to the scorched hole in one of the walls. “A laser blast just shot outtathere lessthanabreemago. Really weird. No one seemed too panicked aboutitthough. So probably nothingtoworry about.”

“I got hit with some kinda energon plague thanks to that rotten Drag Strip down when we were fightin’ the Fallen. All cleared up now, but I’m still feeling alittle woozy,” Blurr answered, glancing down at Side Burn’s leg as the red minibot indicated it. “Ah, yeah. He gotthat when anexplosion happened aboard the Trion, right ’Burn?” Blurr glanced over to where Trailbreaker, Wheeljack, Tracer, and Smokescreen were gathered.

“Hm. Should probably letthem get some rest and move awayfrom here, youknow?” Blurr said, pushing off from the wall he was leaning against to move a bit unsteadily out into a more open and less crowded section of the medical bay. “Don’t wanna be in theway.” The blue speedster leaned against the wall in the new area and cast his gaze about the medical bay. Hm. He didn’t immediately see Hot Rod. The cavalier was probably still recuperating from being possessed by the Fallen, but Blurr wondered if he had woken up yet. Blurr wondered how much he remembered.

Medical Bay – Private Room

“I…I apologize.”

Ratchet kept his optics on Prime as he finally seemed to calm down.

“Is anyone…?! Did I hurt anyone?”

After a moment to gather himself, Ratchet let his hands slide gently down Prime’s arm so they came to rest on his forearm. “Well, Brakeline nearly had his head taken off but he’s fine.” With his right hand Ratchet took hold of the handle of Prime’s blaster and began to work it out of the Autobot leader’s hand.

Once the weapon was safely in his hands, and out of Optimus’, Ratchet moved away and placed the blaster out of reach.

Now, with a scowl etched deep on his visage the CMO crossed his arms over his chest and watched his dear friend for a moment. Prime’s outburst seemed to manifest out of some sort of delusion. That worried Ratchet. He needed to take a deeper look into things.

“Restrain me, old friend. Please.”

“Pfft. That won’t be necessary. Ratchet lowered his arms and moved forward. He stopped directly in front of Prime. The scowl on his face was slowly fading as he placed his hand on the taller mech’s shoulder plate.

“I’m going to find out what happened to you. Now…” He gestured to the medical berth with his freehand and began to guide Optimus over. “Lie down. I’ll need access to the port in the back of your head.” He let a slight smile play over his features before he nodded. “I’m going to do a deep brain scan. With it I should be able to see if there was any tampering within your programming.”

After taking Prime to the berth Ratchet stepped away, giving the Autobot leader a few moments to lie down and absorb what he was just told. In the meantime Ratchet gathered a few things that he’d need for the test.

“A word of warning; it’s going to hurt but bear through it and we’ll be done in no time.”
With a long cable in his hand, Ratchet made his way to Prime’s side. “I promise you, I’ll find out who did this to you and take them apart piece by bloody piece with my bare hands.”

“That makes both of us.”

Taken aback, Ratchet turned towards the door. He relaxed slightly, but quickly growled out. “What’re you doing in here?”

“Sorry, Ratch. I heard…I just needed to see...” The little yellow ‘Bot offered an awkward smile as he gestured to Optimus with an out-raised hand.

Ratchet let out a heavy sigh and let the anger drain. He was tired and he didn’t have the heart to chase Bee away. Instead he stepped away from his patient and stopped before the minibot. “Since you’re here, I could use your help.”

The smile on Bee’s face grew wider and he nearly bounced on his feet. “Of course! Anything! Just let me know what you want me to do.”

“You’re going to talk to him while I monitor his brain activity.” Ratchet said lowly.

“That’s all? What do you want me to talk about?” Bee peered over the CMO’s shoulder at his leader.
With a shrug Ratchet said, “Anything…everything. Just get him to talk...and think.”

Bee nodded his understanding and the two stepped back to Prime’s side.

“Are you ready?” Ratchet gestured with the cable to Prime while Bumblebee gave Prime a reassuring smile.

((OOC: With Cry's blessing I'm taking on Bumblebee once again. Welcome home little one!))

Medical Bay – Private Room

“Well, Brakeline nearly had his head taken off but he’s fine.”

Optimus’s optics narrowed slightly, the only outward sign of the great inward dismay that plagued him. He scarcely noticed Ratchet’s attempts to take his blaster from him, and, when he did, an instinct honed over the past…however long it had been…A vorn? Vorns? Regardless, the Prime felt the impulse to tighten his grip on his weapon rather than let himself be disarmed in this uncertain reality. But…rather than obey that instinct, he yielded to Ratchet, allowing his old friend to work it out of his hand and take it away from him. The very last thing he wanted was to injure or kill one of his Autobots. His friends.

“I see…I am grateful for that much,” Optimus managed.

As the CMO dismissed his request for restraints, the Autobot leader felt both relief and a great deal of dread. Relief stemmed from the ability to defend himself or others if the unforeseen transpired. Dreading that the unforeseen might merely be a ruse or worse himself. Just as it had almost been with Brakeline and Ratchet. It was at that moment that the red and blue Prime made a decision. Despite whatever may happen, he would not defend himself. He could not risk the lives of his beloved friends and comrades whether in this reality or the next.

Gazing solemnly into the optics of perhaps his oldest friend, a certain weariness could be seen in the Autobot leader’s optics.

I’m going to find out what happened to you. Now…” Ratchet gestured to the medical berth with his freehand and began to guide Optimus over. “Lie down. I’ll need access to the port in the back of your head. I’m going to do a deep brain scan. With it I should be able to see if there was any tampering within your programming.”

Glancing to the berth, Optimus considered the implications of a deep brain scan. “Ratchet, if something has done this to me, then there may be fail-safes set in place. Please be careful,” Optimus said with a concerned look at the red and white CMO. He was worried more for his old friend’s sake than his own. If there was something…controlling him…there could be no telling what measures it might take to defend itself. Might make him take. Sliding up onto the berth, Optimus felt the need to insist that he be restrained. Just in case. The Autobot leader had already made up his mind not to retaliate, but if he was in some way being controlled, there was no telling what could happen. Before laying down completely, he set his gaze upon his old friend once more.

“Restrain me, Ratchet. I do not want to take any chances,” Optimus stated more firmly than this prior plea.

As the red and blue Prime finally settled into place on the medical berth, he listened to Ratchet’s words of warning, tilting his head to the side to gaze at his friend.

“I promise you, I’ll find out who did this to you and take them apart piece by bloody piece with my bare hands.”

“That makes both of us.”

The sound of a new yet familiar and most welcome voice filled the small room. “Bumblebee,” Optimus greeted his old friend with a great warmth in his voice, craning his head around so that he had a clear view of the yellow minibot. “It is good to see you after…” Optimus trailed off, struggling to revall when he had last seen Bumblebee. His memories were all so jumbled, hazy, and confused. In the end, he never finished his statement, and instead listened as his two dear friends spoke. The familiarity of it all reassured Optimus. Set him at ease. Bumblebee possessed that same unyielding energy and enthusiasm. After a moment or two, they came to his side, Ratchet with the cable, Bumblebee with a smile.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Optimus replied, “Do it.”

Armory

Nova Strike's expression remained placid as he pondered the changes Prowl had made to the initial proposal. The ranger had anticipated that distance might be a concerning factor in its ultimate approval, particularly given the members of the team involved weren't exactly the best the roads had to offer. It was partially a reason why he had selected the older firehouse to begin with, while it was further from one point, it was also far enough to avoid scrutiny by locals or at the very least Decepticon scouts. Still he would not argue the logic behind the most sophisticated logical processor in the quadrant.

"Thanks for the offer Prowl, and though it might have been tempting if it had been made in earnest, not too sure I've got that factor integrated into my software," Nova responded finally as he leaned back and rubbed the back of his head masking his own thoughts with a sheepish grin. As he contemplated the map, looking for an abandoned something for which they could call a home base, Nova's memories were drawn back to previous opportunities. Suicide missions, the sort of tasks that were given to the lowest profile yet most qualified units with little to no chance for survival. Those missions were the ones that Nova Strike remembered with far too much clarity, for it was on those missions where... The ranger shook off the unbidden ghosts from his mind.

"As far as suggestions for locations," The ranger paused briefly as he considered the options. Nova's optics darted between the two military installations, using his own tactical computers to assess potential pros and cons of any possible location he could recommend. While he would have preferred to have a base near the main highways, allowing him rapid transit between the two sites, such a position offered far too little cover from curious optics. And if anything was constant in this universe, Decepticons more than likely had their own optics already directly pivoted to this remote spit of land in a ocean. Finally he came to a small point just south of Mililani Town, north of Pearl City on the Kamehameha Highway, route 99. He instinctively activated the terminal's zoom feature and brought it down upon a state park. "There's a perfect location to set up our little base of operations. Abandoned Rangers Way Station on the outskirts of that park. May muss up the paint jobs with dirt and grim, but its out of the way and pretty close to both targets."

He looked over to the mission commander and gave a nod. "That's probably all I got at this point." Nova stepped away from the terminal and secured his weapon holsters along his hips with a muted snap locking of the magnetic seals that held them closed. He then made his way over to the specialized rack and palmed a small device that was shaped like a human wrist watch, only a touch larger. Nova proceeded to flick it over to the small Cassette with a brief smile. "Might need this Eject. Personal projector. Should come in handy."

Nova Strike pivoted from the counter, after grabbing a pair of EMP Grenades, and headed towards the exit. "Lets get this show on the road. Those missiles won't secure themselves."

Med Bay

With the security system taken care of, Axle was able to get back to what he’d intended to do…running some tests on Hex. Thankfully the past few minutes went by without any interruption giving him the opportunity to complete the first evaluation.

Axle looked over the findings. Seeing nothing of consequence he looked up at his ward and smiled a reassuring smile.

“It looks good so far. But I’ve got one more to do.” As he spoke the former surgeon walked to the medical berth and gently laid his hand on his ward’s shoulder. “I’ll need you to lie back.” He applied light pressure to Hex’s shoulder coaxing him onto his back.

The young mech lowered down onto the cold metal surface of the berth but kept his optics on his guardian the whole time. He only lost sight of him when Axle went to his small stash of supplies to grab something.

A moment later he came back into view; a long cable in his hand. “Okay, Hex. I need you to open up your neural uplink port and lower your firewalls.”

The request was like a shockwave. Hex sat up bolt straight, his optics nearly white with fear. Axle took half a step back surprised by the scout’s sudden reaction.

With his hands out in front of him, Axle moved back toward the slab trying to gain his ward’s attention. He had to stop however, when a foot shot out and nearly connected with his chestplate. “Whoa! Hex, calm down!” Axle called while he reached out to block another hard kick.

Hex kicked several times and then maneuvered himself toward the back of the slab putting as much space between him and the doctor as he could. He sent another kick out at the black and green mech before he cried out, “Stay outta my head!”

The sound of a tool tray crashing to the floor followed by angry screams drew Brakeline’s attention. The mech turned halfway around and looked over in Axle’s direction. He spotted the former surgeon trying to control his little hellion of a ward and grew concerned. “Little slagger.” He said under his breath.

There was no hesitation. Brakeline was by Axle’s side in a nanoklik trying to get Hex’s attention. The task was harder than the mech thought. “I’ve got this!” Yelled Axle. Brakeline grunted and then smirked up at the taller mech. “Yeah?! You could’ve fooled me!”

Axle glared at Brakeline for a moment before he dove back in to try and grab at Hex’s arm. He leaned in a bit too close and was rewarded with a boot to the face. With a pained grunt Axle pulled back quickly and covered his face with both hands; a thin line of energon slipping between several fingers.

It was the grunt that finally caught Hex’s attention. His struggling and escape attempt halted as he looked up and saw Axle hunched over with his hands covering a large portion of his face. There was a small pool of energon by the large mech’s feet that no doubt had come from some kind of wound on Axle’s face.

Hex stared slack-jawed at his guardian for a moment before he jumped off of the circuit slab, wove passed the medical bay’s occupants and ran out of the room. “Hex, wait!” Axle cried out as the med bay doors closed behind his ward. “Damnit.” The green and black medic lifted his head up and removed his hands to reveal a broken olfactory ridge.

“Oh slag. Let me take a look at that, Axle.” Brakeline stepped up to the larger mech and pulled his head down to optic level. “Later. I have to go find him.” Axle turned his head out of Brakeline’s hands but was quickly caught back up in them. “Let me fix that gash.” Axle stopped his struggling long enough to send an angry glare down at the other mech.

“Fine. But be quick about it.” Axle plopped down on the berth and turned his head up keeping the flow of energon from growing worse. In the meantime Brakeline grabbed a few supplies and placed them down beside Axle. Carefully he began to clean the area.

“Umm, I was just thinking that maybe you should leave him be. You know, just for a little while…to let him cool off.” Brakeline spoke to his patient lowly while he worked. Axle tried to shake his head but decided it would be best to just verbalize his answer. “I don’t want him to be alone. Not right now. Not after what happened.”

Brakeline let out a low sigh. That little punk doesn’t deserve your attention.

((OOC: I’m moving everyone on Prowl’s team along to get the story going.))

Armory / Corridors

As Prowl entered the corridor, the sound of Nova Strike’s vocals caused him to stop in his tracks. The ranger was still seated at the terminal within the armory and had begun looking for another potential base site that was closer to both military installations on Oahu. He quickly found one at an abandoned ranger station located in the region Prowl had suggested to look. Letting out a sigh, the strategist re-entered the armory and approached Nova Strike at the terminal. Standing over the ranger, Prowl gazed down at the map on the computer screen.

“Not bad,” the black and white commented in a dry tone. “However, while this station may be abandoned, that doesn’t mean humans may not still occupy that park. Regardless, it’s better than the previous option and the location is good and should suffice.” Turning back towards the group, Prowl’s optics settled once again on the holographic specialist. “Hound, bring a portable hologram generator with you like one of the ones we utilized in Peru. We can set it up once we are down on the surface and use it to hide our location from any hikers that may enter the area, secluded and out of the way as it may be.”

“No problem, sir,” Hound replied, quickly moving deeper into the armory to find what Prowl wanted. Moments later, the green scout returned carrying a medium-sized portable device that would create a large enough hologram to help shield their presence from the local population. While Hound, himself, could generate holographic images of the nature required, the process usually put a severe strain on his energon levels and would not last as long as would be needed for the mission. Not to mention, Hound would not always be at the base site. Thus, a separate holo-generator was necessary. “I got one, Commander!”

“Good. I’ve also already taken the liberty of having a portable computer base terminal sent down to the bounce chamber. It should be there by the time we arrive. Now, as I said before, let’s move out everyone! Time is of the essence.” And with those words spoken, Prowl once again exited the armory and entered into the outside corridor. Taking the lead, the military strategist led the team down to the nearest turbo lift where they all entered and quickly descended two levels before departing the lift and heading straight for their intended destination.

Bounce Chamber

As the doors parted down the center, Prowl entered the large room with his team close behind. Of course, the Protectobot Commander was there patiently waiting for their arrival. “Hot Spot, I take it you received my prior communique along with all of the mission-related data? I hope so because there is no more time to waste. Those missiles aren’t going to retrieve themselves and the Decepticons may already be on their way to procure them. Primus knows they won’t be as secretive or delicate as we will attempt to be. Therefore, if there is anything you wish to add or discuss, we'll do so once we are down planetside.”

Quickly moving past the blue fire truck, Prowl approached the bounce controls and checked the coordinates that Hot Spot had already entered. With a few slight modifications to ensure they touched down near the ranger station Nova Strike had found, the military strategist then set the timer and motioned for everyone to get into position. “Let’s go. Chop chop!”

The black and white then stepped up onto the bounce pad followed by the rest of his team. The portable computer base terminal was already there, having been delivered by a pair of service drones moments before the team had arrived. Once everyone was in place and the timer on the controls had counted down to zero, a brilliant white light swiftly engulfed Prowl, Hound, Hot Spot, Nova Strike, Red Alert and Eject. Astroseconds later, the entire team had disappeared from sight.

((OOC: All members of Prowl’s team can now move to the new thread titled “Island of Secrets – Mission to Oahu” located in the Earth forum.)

Medical Bay – Secluded Area

“Smokescreen’s fine, Tracer.”

Tracer let out a low hum as she shifted slightly giving Razr just a little more room. Her free arm came up and around the turbofox.

"His cycle’s about half way done so it won’t be that much longer until you two are reunited. In the meantime, Trace, you need to remain still and relax. You’ve been through a lot.”

She smiled minutely as she began to stroke Razr soothing her pet enough to settle down. The scout was about to respond when she received a private comm from Wheeljack.

>>”I told Trailbreaker behind me that you ingested some bad low-grade energon and that you had a severe allergic reaction to it, which is why you’re in my care. That’s our cover story as there are too many other ‘Bots nearby right now to risk discussing what really happened out loud. Okay, Trace?”<<

Tracer remained quiet for a moment taking in what the mechanical engineer had just told her. For him to go out of his way once again, Tracer was certainly glad Jack was willing to put himself in the middle of all of this just to help her and Smokescreen out. She would be eternally grateful to him.

With a light grunt Tracer removed her arm from Razr and began to sit upright. Muscle cables and tension sinews ached making it a bit harder for her to sit up quickly.

Once seated she paused a moment to quell the insane amount of vertigo and then continued up and onto her feet. The scout let out a heavy sigh and looked at Wheeljack. She smiled before stepping before him.

“Thank you. For everything.” Her smile grew a bit wider as she leaned forward and kissed the engineer on the cheek. “I want to see him now.” It was all she said before she made her way to Smokescreen’s CR chamber.

Tracer looked into the window brought up her hand and lightly traced his featured on the glass. “I’m here.” She whispered.

Outer Hull

"Sky Lynx?"

Finally, thought the lieutenant commander. It was about time that someone got back to him. Strangely, it was not who he was expecting.

>>”Ultra Magnus?”<<

"What in the name of... never mind that. Probably not the most opportune time for a discussion. I will explain the details later, but for now... I am currently in command of this sector.”

Sky Lynx was not content to leave it at that, but he would for the time being. Questions darted into his mind and ran amuck like wildfire. Yes, very malcontented to leave it at that. But…

>>”…Very well…Ultra Magnus…”<< came the terse reply.

"I am presently in the middle of a rather delicate situation at the moment. So I need a clearer picture as to what you deem as an 'urgent' matter?"

>>”Nothing short of treason!”<< Sky Lynx snarled, >>”That blasted Grimlock and his infernal Dinobots simply stormed into my shipyards and stole the Trion. And, well, dash it all, I raced off in pursuit the moment I heard! I confronted Grimlock, but the barbarous brute brushed me off! Had I a mind to, I could have stopped their treacherous joyride then and there, but I had a thought that the chain of command was due a tugging. Optimus being the only one who can really rein in that lot and all. I suppose you must do for the moment. They’re about to do something foolish on Sol-3. I just know it!”<<

Main Science Lab

“I don’t think relocating to two different ships is going to do us much good. Better for all of the team to stay close together in case anyone’s particular expertise is needed. That being said, my vote goes to using some of Wheeljack’s facilities. If he doesn’t mind,” Skids stated. Rubbing his chin, he glanced to the door. “Though, it’s strange that Blaster isn’t here yet. He’s not usually one to be fashionably late. Maybe he has another assignment.”

Skids shrugged. “Either way, we should probably get moving. I just received a report that the Guardian is going to be moving out of bounce range of Earth and likely the Ark too. We need to get a move on.” Moving toward the door to the lab, Skids paused as he saw the black archivist already at it. He looked sort of pained. Hm.

Tapping the door control, Skids held it open for the rest of the research team.

Medical Bay: Security Isolation Ward

As if struck by the wayward proton torpedo fired at point blank range, the automated defense and security turrets within the ward extended their barrels and began bathing the secured patient in a flickering swath of crimson targeting lasers. The first set of quad lasers began a low whine as they shunted power from the primary conduits that linked it with the ship's power supply, straight into the converters to transform it to lethal energy bolts that would soon...

Ultra Magnus raised his hand in a silent command ordering the guns back to standby mode. Personally he doubted the auto turrets would do anything to stabilize the situation, Megatron's hide was as thick as his own, and could absorb considerable punishment. And if they had fired, he reasoned that most they would do at this point, would be accidentally blow off one of the security binders that held Megatron in place.

Quietly he scanned the surging Megatron as the Decepticon Commander screamed at an invisible entity. Initially, Magnus had glanced over to Jazz and then to Pharma before ordering the guns back to holding... believing that the words screamed by their prisoner were directed towards them. But the Autobot Commander disregarded that thought as soon as it appeared. He knew from experience, Megatron was nothing if not confident in his own abilities and the fanaticism of his followers. The vile enemy always maintained control, even if he was not directly in command of the situation... there was always something churning in the back of his mind that allowed him to turn the tides to his favor.

Thus Magnus began to ponder. The despot's optics were not fixated on any of the three Autobots in the chamber with him, and neither Jazz nor Pharma had addressed him directly. Something else was at play here, some deeper trauma that had to be resting just beneath the surface that had shaken Megatron more than the slagmaker would ever admit. "Who, Megatron?" He spoke in a steady tone, calm and controlled, much as the tenor that his now prisoner.

Medical Bay – Secluded Area

After his private transmission to her, Wheeljack watched Tracer as she quietly stroked her pet Razr. The mechanical engineer could tell by the look on her faceplate that she not only registered the message but also fully understood it. She just lacked the energy to respond more outwardly. That soon changed, however, when she let out a light grunt and began to move, beginning to sit up on the medical slab. Instinctively, ‘Jack stood up and gently gripped her upper arm with both hands in order to help stabilize the troubled femme. She paused for a moment once she was in a seated position before then continuing up onto her feet.

“Easy, Tracer,” Wheeljack said as the drugged addled scout let out a heavy sigh, looking at the engineer. Her warm smile was then followed by a thank you before she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. The mad scientist’s optics widened for a brief moment in surprise as his fuel pump skipped a beat before righting itself once more. ‘Jack couldn’t remember the last time he had been kissed by a femme or shown any kind of affection of the sort. Granted, he understood that it was not the kind of affection she gave to Smokescreen, but the white mech would take it nonetheless.

Speaking of the sleeping rallybot, Tracer wasted no time in turning her attention over to the diversionary tactician, wanting to see him immediately. “By all means,” Wheeljack replied, motioning towards the red and blue racer’s CR chamber. “He should be awake any astrosecond by my calculations.” Once the blue femme had reached the unit, the mad scientist turned away to give her the privacy she needed. Tracer would be fine for the time being and once Smokey was awake he could keep an optic on her while the engineer worked on other projects that demanded his attention.

One such project was the analysis of the scanned data Prowl had sent both him and Perceptor a few cycles ago regarding Sixshot. Apparently, the prick-bot wanted to eventually develop an Autobot phase sixer and this would be the very first step towards that ultimate goal. Wheeljack let out a deep sigh as once again he would be party to the creation of another super weapon that may or may not be too dangerous to implement if it was even possible to achieve in the first place.

The mechanical engineer then opened a secured, private channel to the sniper/scientist:

>>”Perceptor, this is Wheeljack over on the Guardian. Have you had a chance to take a look at the Sixshot scans Prowl sent us recently? I know that you’re probably busy as I have been, but if you want to get together soon and begin the analysis we can do so in either your lab or mine. Whichever you prefer.”<<

Medical Bay – Secluded Area

Smokescreen stirred within his CR chamber as the repair cycle came to an end and the nanite-rich fluid drained from the machine. The rallybot’s optics flickered on to reveal the space around him and the window directly ahead. On the other side of that window was Tracer’s visage, looking in at him as she outlined his face on the glass with her actuator. Smokey smiled and slowly reached out with his new right arm and hand until his own actuator touched the glass on his side. Then he returned the gesture and traced the troubled femme’s worried features, as well.

Before he could finish, however, the CR unit's door let out a loud hiss before opening and sliding to one side. Smokescreen didn't move as his attention was briefly drawn to his newly acquired appendage that Wheeljack had built for him. The right arm was whole again and now painted to match the rest of the rallybot’s red and blue color scheme. Thank Primus for Wheeljack, the diversion expert thought as he placed his arm down at his side. Smokey then looked back at Tracer as he carefully pushed himself away from the metal slab and slowly stepped out of the CR chamber. He allowed the blue scout enough time to move back some in order to give him enough room to stand in front of her.

“Hey there, good lookin'. Come here often?” Smokescreen asked with a wide, friendly smile plastered across his faceplate, his optics fixated on Tracer. He was back to normal once more as though nothing had ever happened. Naturally, that wasn’t true. A lot had, in fact, happened to him over the past many cycles from having a whole new body built because his old one was melted by acidic chemicals to having his right arm infected with cosmic rust by a herald of the Fallen. Smokey had been through a lot and much of it was to protect Tracer. He would do anything for her, anything to keep her safe and healthy. Unfortunately, he still had his limitations. He knew that all too well even if he didn’t want to outright admit it. He’d been lucky thus far, but that luck would eventually run out. And when it did it wouldn’t just be him that suffered.

Smokescreen took a step forward and wrapped both arms around Tracer’s frame. He pulled her close, letting out a light sigh that was more of relief than anything else. He said nothing. Instead, he just embraced her as though it had been an eternity since the last time he saw her. That wasn’t the case, of course, but it had been a long while since he was able to hold her like this and to feel her body against his own. With his wounds healed he could now do just that and he wanted to relish every moment of it.

After a few more astroseconds, Smokescreen finally pulled back slightly so that he could gaze into her optics again, all the while keeping Tracer within the safety of his arms. The rallybot could still see the look of concern on the blue scout’s visage, a look that he wanted to erase immediately. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore, Trace. I’m fine. In fact, I’ve never felt better.” Smokey paused for a moment as he caressed the side of her face with his new hand. “As long as I have you I’ll always be okay. I promise.”

Smokescreen then quickly changed the subject, giving Tracer his own concerned expression. "How about you, though? You didn't look so good the last time I saw you before my CR nap. Are you feeling all right?"