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The sky was ablaze with magnificent hues of crimson and gold as the sun dipped below the polluted haze of the metropolis's horizon. Below the scarlet streaked clouds rested a hive of feverish human activity. The lights from the city illuminated it as if the sun were not setting, and the automobiles zoomed along the black ribbons of asphalt splicing the city into a grid. Factories on the outskirts of the city issued massive plumes of black smoke, although from many factories' stacks, smoke bellowed forth no longer. Snaking around the city's southern end, a black reflective river slowly flowed from the Great Lakes, serving as the medium for an abundance of raw materials and resources on barges to come to dock at the city's massive port.

Outskirts of the City

A bright flash of light announced the arrival of the small troop of Autobots. Arcee waited for the initial disorientation of the bounce to clear as she glanced about and took in their surroundings. The bounce had landed them in the rear parking lot of a long abandoned restaurant. Boards of wood blockaded the windows, and dust and dirt coated all surfaces. Strange markings of graffiti coated the of the building. The weeds had fought to reclaim this bit of civilization, sprawling across the cracked pavement. The city glowed radiantly on the horizon.

Seeing no humans, Arcee let out a sigh of relief. She had set the coordinates for the most isolated area nearby Detroit, but that had proved difficult seeing how numerous these humans were. Fortunately, it seemed she had chosen a good locale, even if it did mean a longer drive into the heart of the city.

"Welcome to Detroit, ladies and gentlemen. Buckle up," the femme quipped as she rolled out of the parking lot and onto the dusty road. She switched to the internal comm link to speak to the others.

>>"Remember. You are to stay in alternate mode at all times. You never know where a human might be hiding. Now our first order of business is to establish an outpost to store the raw materials that we'll be acquiring. It needs to be big but most importantly secure. I don't want humans able to waltz in whenever they please. Spread out, but stay in contact."<<

Outskirts of the City

Whether it had been due to Dragunov's more active pleasantries, Tracks' standoffishness or sheer, dumb luck, Steeljaw had thought better of Tracks' reluctant offer of a ride and had decided to go with Dragunov instead. Normally the only kind of "passenger" that Tracks tolerated was of the holomatter variety. It was clean and he could control it. But now that he had actually wasted the words making the offer, he had to admit it felt just the slightest bit insulting to have said offer refused.

Hmph, see if I even bother offering next time.

He had transformed and not long after that the blinding disorientation of the orbital bounce threw all of his sensors off. He felt sick. Blah, he hated those accursed jumps.

Necessary evil. Necessary evil. Necessary evil. You can make it, he told himself as he slowly began to orient himself to his newest surroundings. It was indeed a necessary evil, but he was glad to have endured it in order to finally have earned himself an Earthside assignment. And in this particular country's fabled "Motor City" no less. The lights of New York and Los Angeles would come in time, but these would be perfectly acceptable surroundings to try out the alt mode he had selected.

Registering Arcee's final admonition and slamming on the accelerator without saying a word in response, the shiny, blue Corvette ZR1 raced off toward the heart of the city to see what he could find.

Outskirts of the City

Orbit-to-surface bounce. Long distance re-constructed particle projection. Teleportation. The Big Bang. It had many names, their method of voyage down to the surface. It was always the same, sparkling, glittering air then a thundersnap and bright flashes of light, yet Dragunov couldn’t bring herself to get used to it. She tried to distract herself from the unpleasantness by trying to guess how many names Remington could list for the thing.

When the sniper realized she was dizzy, they were already down on the planet’s surface. Dragunov made the initial area scans as soon as her sensors, thrown off by the bounce, recalibrated.

She wasn’t expecting anything glamorous but this... slum-hole did manage to surprise her. Run-down and battered rows buildings, weed and wild plantlife gnawing at concrete and wood.

’Two luxury sportscars and a pink speedster. No, we don’t stand out in this slag pit. Not even a little bit,’ she said aloud through her holo-avatar, only half aware of Steeljaw in the passenger’s seat.

Dragunov started to ponder that perhaps Ingram would have been a better choice for this assignment. She was more of the... hoarder type, plus, her alternate mode appeared as coarse as everything the sniper’s optics could take in. But orders were orders.

>>"Remember. You are to stay in alternate mode at all times. You never know where a human might be hiding. Now our first order of business is to establish an outpost to store the raw materials that we'll be acquiring. It needs to be big but most importantly secure. I don't want humans able to waltz in whenever they please. Spread out, but stay in contact."<<

>>’Copy that, chief,’<< Dragunov transmitted back.

Gears shifted and engines revved as three vehicles sped off in different directions to explore the area.

Factory warehouses, mass-hab suites, parking lots passed by beside the road. Dragunov kept scanning for ones that may be capable of both storing the materiel they were to acquire and housing a small operations quarters. Energon-adapters, surveillance systems and such.

In the distance, traffic and car lights coursed, at least partially dissolving the deserted atmosphere the majority of the city was undeniably suffering from. For now, Dragunov had no desire to go closer to any possible contact, either. All in due time.

There. The sleek Aston Martin slowed and parked by the curb, in the side of a particularly wide warehouse. Crumbling plasterwork, small heaps of rubble. Crumpled shutters at the front, torn just enough to allows a human to cross to the interior.

Dragunov, or rather, the holoavatar she used to introduce as Zakashya, swept up the mobile phone that was Steeljaw and shoved him in a pocket, then got out of the sniper’s car form and casually paced to the warehouse entrance.

A quick glance around to make sure noone was watching, and she was inside.

Space would not be a problem, that was sure. Several hundred, perhaps thousand square meters, separated into two main areas. It could be made to suit their purposes with minimal alterations. The building itself was far out enough, though security protocols would need to be initiated on a more frequent basis.

>>’Chief, this is Dragunov. Found one possible spot. Mapping it now and sending coordinates,<< the sniper transmitted, pulling Steeljaw out held him out in front so he could record images and scan the premises.

‘What do you think?’ Dragunov asked with a slight smirk. Humans had quite some quirky habits, but there was one she believed she had just picked up: personalizing mobile phones.

In her case, though, it was more literal. And she enjoyed it.

Detroit

Tracks had been growing so accustomed to getting glimpses of Earth from human television programming that he was scarcely prepared for what he would find when actually coming down here. Most such television shows glamorized cities like Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, Atlanta and the like. As well as locales around the world like Dubai, Tokyo, London and so on. That was Tracks' primary frame of visual reference for this planet so far. And with Detroit being hailed as the "motor city" a bastion of human automobile manufacturers--the basis of many of their very own disguises--Tracks hadn't been sure what exactly to expect from the city, but he certainly hadn't expected this: street after street filled with ramshackle or otherwise condemned housing units. Vehicles that looked barely street worthy. Empty, gutted buildings. It was a mess.

Granted, that was not a reflection of the entire city. Even as he closed in on the downtown area, he could see buildings reminiscent of some of Cybertron's own gleaming in the sunlight. But far more of this city appeared to be functioning in direct contrast to the vehicular wealth that Detroit was otherwise portrayed to possess. For one such as Tracks, it was truly surprising. And somewhat distressing.

Tracks opened up the direct frequency to the other members of the team that were planetside.

>>"Are we sure this is the city we want to set up shop within? I.....I'll just say that I'm--frankly--a little amazed by what I'm seeing down here."<<

Detroit - Outskirts of the City

Arcee drove about, keeping her distance from the main body of the city as she merely scouted out a spot where they could establish some sort of outpost. She hadn't wanted it too close to the city. Someplace inconspicuous. Unfortunately, their alternate modes stood out like billboards with bright neon lettering, spelling out: 'Hey! Look at me!' Perhaps she had ought to have started them out in the more suburban areas...they'd looked so heavily populated though...oh well, they were down here now.

The pink and white C4 Corvette continued to glance about, looking for a suitable place to store their materials. No. No. Definitely not. Ugh, this was getting her nowhere. Maybe she should try down by the docks. They were bound to have warehouses there. Arcee turned off of an intersection, trying to find her way around this maze of roads that the humans had constructed. Eventually, Arcee began to near the docks when Dragunov checked in.

>>’Chief, this is Dragunov. Found one possible spot. Mapping it now and sending coordinates.'<<

Arcee's holomatter avatar smiled, mirroring the femme's own pleasure. She sent Dragunov a swift acknowledgement, >>"Roger that, Dragunov. Good work! I'll be there after I sweep the docks. I want a full report on the location when I get there."<<

Cutting the link as she drove up to the docks, Arcee noted many warehouses for storing goods to be shipped on the river. Hm. This...could work. Hiding in plain sight, as it were. She cast her gaze to the city looming just above her with tall gleaming spires shimmering red in the dusk light. It was in very close proximity to the city. She gazed around at the dock workers, milling about, trying to finish up the day's work before nightfall. The first humans she had ever really seen...although from a good distance. They were fascinating...Arcee's thoughts were interrupted when a comm from Tracks patched through.

>>"Are we sure this is the city we want to set up shop within? I.....I'll just say that I'm--frankly--a little amazed by what I'm seeing down here."<<

>>"It doesn't look real pretty from the outside, but it is a bustling industrial capital - or was. We should still be able to find what we're looking for in this city. Plenty of raw materials,"<< Arcee assured.

There. That one. It was a large warehouse at the end of a long row. It had a sign plastered to the front that read that it was for rent. Hm. That might work...but...humans could come knocking at the door at any time. The pink warrior thought it best to see what Dragunov had managed to find. Wheeling away, Arcee began heading toward the sniper's coordinates post haste.

>>"En route to your location, Dragunov."<<

-----

Dragunov's Passenger Seat

This was the first time that Steeljaw had really been in this earthen alternate mode. It was...distasteful for the tracker, being stuck, unable to move of his own accord without Blaster nearby. He trusted Blaster with his life. Dragunov was a comrade, certainly, but not one he had served with before. This uncertainty was enough to set him on edge a bit.

The worst part was that he couldn't smell quite as well from his particular vantage point, which frustrated the poor tracker to no end. Still, patient and calm, Steeljaw raised no word of complaint. He felt them slow and eventually come to a stop, being swept up and jammed into Dragunov's avatar's jacket pocket. Fantastic.

To his immense relief, Dragunov soon whipped him out of her pocket and into the open air at last. They were in a rather spacious building. It looked rather dusty and a bit run-down. It occurred to Steeljaw that he ought to be recording the images. He began doing so, storing them in his memory banks. Rewind would likely get more of a kick out of this. The archivist was more suited to such matters and had the memory capacity to do it.

‘What do you think?' asked the sniper with a smirk.

Steeljaw took a sniff of the air as well as he could in his tiny alternate mode. Hm...didn't smell like anyone had been about this area. A few human scents lingered in the air but they were old.

"Smells alright. I do not think many humans frequent this place, Miss Dragunov," Steeljaw reported curtly.

Outskirts of Detroit: Packard Auto Plant (Status - Abandoned)

The last remnants of dazzle and blinding electromagnetic pulses crackled across the barely shielded field of vision of the Autobot Construction Engineer, Huffer. A disorienting annoying effect, enhanced by the angular confinement field that held him in place while the final bits and pieces of data were restored to their proper place in the grand scheme of space time. It also prevented the Minibot from forcing the gradually building bout of nausea that had developed the moment the beam had taken hold onboard the 22. Huffer made a mental note to include those exact emotional effects he was being forced to endure in his next report to Wheeljack.

The effects finally faded to nothing and the confinement beam dissipated to facilitate his reprieve from the claustrophobic effects of molecular transportation. Huffer immediately looked up to take in the sprawling effects of a brick and mortar goliath. He offered himself a brief pivot on his heels as he took in the massive courtyard that stood in the very heart of a complex of brick, steel and stone. Nearly a dozen buildings surrounded his position, all of them in a sharp state of decay.

Cracked or broken out windows lined each building, each carrying the scars of urban decay... a sight Huffer had memorized on Cybertron. Graffiti of gangs and would be artists trying to make a symbolic statement regarding the trappings of avarice. It must have devastated the artists who had constructed this monument to industry, to see what it had become after a century of service to the greater good of the species. The thought tore at Huffer's spark like an energon blade. He knew the feeling all too well.

Huffer stepped passed one of the broken planters, its dirt crusted with trash and asphalt shingles that had been torn from the roofs during recent storms. He stepped over a partially distorted bench, evidence that at one time after its closure vandals had laid siege to the compound. A sideways shimmy past a pair of contorted and dead lamp posts gave the engineer access to one of the nearer and smaller factory buildings. Across its white marble lentil a simple yet significant number loomed, a testament to the innovation of years gone by. 1907.

The engineer carefully pushed the warped timber slab that ineffectively attempted to deny him entry into the building's interior. The nails popped out of the walls and clattered at his feet as he stepped over the threshold into the darkened cavern. The skittering of rats and insects were not lost upon his audio receptors as he walked further in, his night vision sensors plunging the chamber in a sickly green glow.

Above hung a low and decidedly out dated gantry crane, probably used for hauling bodies of vehicles to their under carriages. The chains were rusted and probably required replacement, as would undoubtedly be the case for several of the interior gears in the main crank box. Below a primitive conveyor remained intact, covered in a thick layer of dust and discarded papers. The minibot switched his optical sensors to detect electromagnetic fields and immediately cast his gaze towards the walls, specifically where he assumed the power circuits would be most likely located. Intact, but just barely. "This building has seen better days." He spoke suddenly enough to spook even himself, though he doubted his partner in crime Tailgate would be so intrigued by their surroundings.

"Tailgate. I think this will serve our needs most excellently. Please send a communique burst to Arcee, Tracks, Steeljaw and if possible Dragunov. I would like for them to inspect this to develop a consensus... though I doubt they'll even give me the time of day. Nobody cares what I have to relay anyways." Huffer groaned as he began taking notes of exactly what he would have to address in order to advance the plans Magnus had set into motion.

There was something else that gnawed at him. If they were truly going to use this location as a front to collect goods necessary to build Autobot City, then it would be on the level of sheer ignorance if they believed the Humans would not take notice. Huffer pondered a moment, that just meant that this out post was going to have to give back to the community, whether he wanted to or not. The engineer's shoulders slumped. "This will never work."

Detroit--Outskirts of the City

>>"It doesn't look real pretty from the outside, but it is a bustling industrial capital - or was. We should still be able to find what we're looking for in this city. Plenty of raw materials,"<< Arcee had transmitted.

>>"Copy that. I'll keep looking,"<< Tracks responded back, still doubting as to whether he would actually find anything suitable. Granted, his definitions of suitability and those of his teammates likely differed a great deal. But perhaps they could meet in the middle somewhere.

Fortunately, it seemed like that particular responsibility might well avoid falling on his shoulders. Some of the recent comm chatter had suggested that a workable location might have already been found. Lovely. Tracks homed in on the location of said Autobots and sped off in their direction.

As he approached the outside of what was identified as the "Packard Auto Plant" Tracks dimmed his headlights and closed the distance further. He almost transformed out of instinct but he remembered the initial directive about remaining in their alternate modes just as a few gears began to shift and click. He quickly halted and reversed the process.

"Well, given everything else I've seen of this city thus far, this is about what I would've expected."

Outskirts of Detroit: Packard Auto Plant (Status - Abandoned)

Tailgate awoke with his faceplate mushed up against the cold, hard tarmac of Human pavement. He wasn't expecting to jump and he wasn't able to prep himself in time. The minibot groaned as he rose up onto his feet.

"Geez, Thanks Huffer!" Tailgate whined as he stumbled over towards where he last saw the engineer disappear to. He payed no attention to his surroundings, the nausea from the bounce was kicking him in the aft pretty good. The scout rubbed his processor plating, right above his visor. "Primus, why do I feel like this..." He groaned as he fumbled over discarded pieces of lumber that Huffer tossed.

"Tailgate. I think this will serve our needs most excellently. Please send a communique burst to Arcee, Tracks, Steeljaw and if possible Dragunov." Huffer asked as Tailgate stumbled into the abandoned factory.

"N-Not a problem..." Tailgate muttered as he took a seat up against the wall of the factory's interior and readied his Comm Link. He popped open one of his arm-mounted display compartments and locked in on Arcee's, Track's, Dragunov's, and Steeljaw's Comm Link signals.

>>"Hey guys...T-Tailgate here. Huffer says he found a good spot to set up shop. He wants you guys to come meet us here, something about inspecting the place out. Hurry if you can! Tailgate out.<<

Outskirts of Detroit: Packard Auto Plant

Well, at least he had zeroed in on the correct location. That meant their equipment functioned at least reasonably well down here on this new world. That was something. Though it was far from all bad. Their current city of choice might not have been ideally suited to Tracks' standards, but he had seen worse on the human newsfeeds. This would suffice.

"Perfect timing," Tracks said, mostly to himself as he drove deeper in to the abandoned auto plant. The facility actually looked somewhat...haunting. Like something out of a Decepticon nightmare. He then hit his horn a couple times, just to let Huffer and Tailgate know that he was already here.

"Charming," Tracks muttered as he continued to scan the area.

Outskirts of the City

Arcee pulled up beside Dragunov, arriving as her location swiftly. Her holomatter avatar stepped out of the car and walked up beside Dragunov's humanoid form. "Hello, you two," Arcee said with a warm smile. Arcee took stock of the warehouse. Yes, it was spacious, but not exactly what they were looking for...Holes in the tin plating of the roofing. Rust had erroded some parts of the walls of the structure. It looked as if it could crumble away if one of them bumped it gently in their robot modes.

"Hurm...It's definitely spacious enough, but it's kind of...frail, looking, and the walls are pretty thin. We could patch it up though, given time..." Arcee mused.

As she considered the warehouse, an unexpected voice crackled over the comm lines. Tailgate! The little minibot scout. >>"Hey guys...T-Tailgate here. Huffer says he found a good spot to set up shop. He wants you guys to come meet us here, something about inspecting the place out. Hurry if you can! Tailgate out.<<

Arcee looked over to Steeljaw and Dragunov with a smile. "Let's head over to where Huffer and the others are and check out the place they found. We can always come back here if we think his place is better," Arcee said kindly.

Whirling on her heel, the avatar strolled back to Arcee's main body and slid back into the car, the engines revving to life once more. She headed down the road and toward the source of the transmission. Huffer must have come down here to help with the acquisition of the materials he needed. So impatient. Oh well. A little extra help never hurt anyone.

Packard Auto Plant

As Arcee rolled up to the complex, she could see already that it was enormous, but also extremely run down. Like some abandoned outpost that could hold any amount of horrors. That, however, was the many long years of war talking. There were no bullet holes or craters here created by battles of the past. No. This was a fairly peaceful world.

The pink warrior heard Tracks' horn blaring a few times. Likely to signal that he had arrived. Despite the plant's rather homely appearance, it would serve very well for their intended use. Arcee hit her horn once to signify that she had also arrived. She soon caught up to Tracks and rolled up beside him.

"What do you think?" she asked of him.

Packard Auto Plant

Tracks had registered Arcee's approach but did not say anything at first. He was curious to allow their squad leader to get a sense of the place for herself and see what her reaction would be before adding any of his own sentiments.

She seemed intent on gathering the same thoughts from him. And since she was the leader of this little mission, he supposed it wouldn't be a good idea to turn the question back on her.

"Well, initial misgivings aside, it looks like it will blend into the surroundings nicely. There's no shortage of derelict, abandoned scrap piles in this city from what I've seen. We're highly likely to go unnoticed in this one."

Outskirts of Detroit: Packard Auto Plant (Status - Abandoned)

"I do not know if I would say that we will go unnoticed here Tracks." A small voice came from behind a partially deteriorated section divider. Two spears of light lanced through the interior gloom of the assembly floor, plastering haunting shadows of bolt stubs and twisted fragments of machinery long ago salvaged for scrap. Above the dangling chain swayed by an unseen breeze, definitely refusing to die after years of neglect. A long crooked arm reached down towards Arcee and Tracks, a sharp hooked shadow disappearing in the dark.

Huffer stepped into their field of vision, lowering his high set lamps. Carefully he began to unstrap the two cubes from his back and set them at the base of what had once been an elevator to the different levels of the factory. "Glad that you received Tailgate's message. Its a complete wreck of a building, though the foundation is stable and the walls are in fairly good condition." He tucked the first cube down and slid off the cover... he followed suit with the second.

"I don't know why Magnus even bothered to attempt this project, but its going to be impossible to accomplish... even if I had more sophisticated equipment available, which I don't. Still, orders are orders and we will have to carry them out." Once the two covers were free, the engineer pressed in two activation codes. The first cube began to rotate into several fragments, elongating and shrinking until it took the shape of a portable field generator station complete with light and micro computer terminal. The second sprouted a pair legs, and another... before it formed two arms with pincers.

"Drone 090," Huffer spoke as if the others were not of importance at this stage... which given that what was required now was construction expertise... "Begin complete survey of factory. Catalog all deficiencies and potential upgrades that can be established in order to begin production output of S. Cells."

The drone beeped and began to crawl off, its triplicate set of optical scanners absorbing every detail it could conjure. For Huffer he returned to the others. "Tailgate and I have elected to join this operation... Not that I can be of any special service to the search, but I must find a specific alloy that exists on this planet in order to construct the full scale Bridge Gateway."

Outskirts of Detroit: Packard Auto Plant (Status - Abandoned)

Tailgate rose from against the wall he was lying against and stretched his arm-servos of wide as Huffer seemed to be getting his little workstation up and running. He placed his hands on his hip joints and gazed around the opened space of the abandoned facility.

"Glad that you received Tailgate's message. Its a complete wreck of a building, though the foundation is stable and the walls are in fairly good condition."

"Yeah you sure know how to pick them..." Tailgate mumbled to himself as he queued in on Huffer's conversation with Tracks and Arcee. The minibot scout walked over to a crack in the cement foundation that hung a good foot or two above his optic-level. He stood on the tips of his feet and casted his sky blue optics out into the night of Detroit. Few cars drove by their abandoned facility, and barely any humans were out walking the streets. This part of town was just as lively as Mirage's people skills.

The blue and white scout lowered himself and turned to the engineer minibot who had just launched one of his service drones. Tailgate approached the new being, unaware of its non-sentience and curiously gazed at it.

"Well hey there little fella!" He began as he held out a pointed index actuator to poke the recently activated drone of Huffer's, "Drone 090 eh? My name is Tailgate!" Huffer's drone did not phase the information and began following its creator's orders. "Wait! I didn't finishing talking to you!" Again, the drone seemed not to have noted the scout's attention, let alone existence.

Tailgate sighed a breath of disappointment and turned back to face Huffer.

"So what do you want me to do now?" He asked while still maintaining the tone of disappointment the service drone caused to the Minibot engineer.

Outskirts of Detroit: Packard Auto Plant

Since they seemed to be in an isolated enough area and since, well, everyone else seemed to be doing it, Tracks decided to engage his transformation sequence, as much as he was otherwise loathe to do so. He had do admit, he rather enjoyed the mode he had found for himself. Rather stylish these humans were when it came to vehicular design. Arguably better than Cybertronian engineers in that regard.

As the minibot, Huffer, had responded to Tracks offhand statement rather than the mech to whom he was speaking, the Autobot barely acknowledged him for a few moments. But he kept talking. So, at some point Tracks figured he was obliged to begin listening.

Then the complaining started. Oh god. Tracks could already feel his servos starting to ache. He looked over at Arcee.

"So, mission accomplished eh? I'll just be going..."

Outskirts of Detroit - Packard Auto Plant

Arcee considered Tracks' thoughts as Huffer stepped out of the interior gloom to greet them in his...special way. Special, of course meaning, massively depressed and a tinge whiny. Transforming back into robot mode, the pink warrior glanced about, inspecting the interior of the plant. No massive holes in the walls or other such gaps in the structure...seemed stable and sound for the most part as well.

Arcee nodded at the engineer's reasons for coming here and sent a warm smile at the minibot, Tailgate. She was surprised to see that the little minibot had taken to talking to the drone that Huffer had deployed. Oh yes...he had that quirk...didn't he...Needed to keep him away from earth machinery.

Before she had another moment to decide what their next plan of action was, Tracks looked over at her and tried to make his excuses to leave. To be fair, the company of Huffer could do that to even the most cheerful of mechs.

"So, mission accomplished eh? I'll just be going..."

"Ah-ah-ah, Tracks. You're staying put," Arcee remarked chidingly.

The pink femme turned to face Huffer, considering him. "So Huffer, now that we have our location, I suppose we ought to set about acquiring those materials you and the other scientists requested. Tracks, I want you to take Steeljaw and go into the city to find out where we can acquire them in bulk. Take Tailgate with you if you want."

-----

The lion cassettobot had ridden to the Auto Plant via Dragunov's illustrious passenger seat. He now had transformed back into his robot form since everyone else seemed to be doing it, and prowled about their new quarters. The scent of humans was fairly faint here for how far away it was from the former industrial hub.

He did smell some other organic creatures who had made this abandoned plant their home. Steeljaw padded up to a hole in one of the inner walls and sniffed. Hm...He didn't know this scent...but he would certainly remember it if he found it once again. Maybe he would even find the creature that created it...

Steeljaw had completely ignored the existence of Huffer and Tailgate since his arrival, completely lost in his world of scents. It was only when Arcee called his name did the lion bother to look up from his prowling.

"Hm..?"

Outskirts of Detroit-Packard Auto Plant

So close.

Tracks’ shoulder joints slumped slightly as Arcee’s words kept him from going any further without risking full-on insubordination. And that would be the last thing he needed on his personnel file if he wanted to be selected for any of the more premium missions that might happen while they were stationed on this little blue diamond in the cosmos. He thought he might be able to just casually sneak away, maybe go on a little road trip and classify it as reconnaissance. No such luck.

“Oh alright,” he said, quickly resigning himself to the reality that he would be stuck in this little corner of the planet for the foreseeable future. As Arcee went on the explain more of the objectives of what she wanted accomplished, it seemed as though he would have the fine distinction of serving as a transport module for smaller Bots. Lovely. He had managed to avoid it before, even though he had been ready to comply. It seemed as if there would not be any alternatives this time.

Oh well. He could think of worse assignments.

“Let’s go, kiddies,” Tracks said as he transformed once more, his right and left side passenger doors swinging open.

Outskirts of Detroit - Packard Auto Plant

Steeljaw was forced to admit as the lion cassettobot approached Tracks that the vain Autobot looked none too thrilled about toting him along in the passenger seat. Steeljaw resolved to attempt to make it as painless as possible. Gingerly putting one paw inside Tracks, Steeljaw found that transforming here would be challenging...and unpleasant for Tracks.

Steeljaw backed up, taking a running start and leaped at Tracks, transforming in midair and plopping neatly into his passenger seat. Whatever mental trauma his pounce had done to Tracks....well. Tracks could deal with it. Unless he preferred Steeljaw change shape inside of him.

"Ready to go whenever you are," Steeljaw said blithely.

It smelled...odd in Tracks' passenger seat. Very odd. It was almost kind of a bad smell but not quite. It made Steeljaw restless, in any regard. The sooner he could have some fresh air, the better.

Outskirts of Detroit: Packard Automobile Plant (Status - Reconditioning)

Huffer shook his head briefly as Droid 090 beeped patiently, allowing its smooth neon beams of light to pass over each interior support, bolt stud and beyond. It was the occasional accidental scans of the rather quirked scout that caused Huffer's brief bouts of dread. He pondered how the irregularities in the data would corrupt the over all drafting process and replication process necessary for the base reconfiguration for which he was about to embark. Still the engineer let Tailgate indulge himself to a small extent.

He instead turned to face Arcee and the transformed Tracks. "This should not take too long in retooling this particular factory to best suit our needs." Stepping over a power cable that snaked swiftly out from the portable computer terminal, Huffer walked over to the trio of Autobots.

"But one would think that the lights on in a supposed abandoned factory would be rather suspicious. We may need to further our cover through integration protocols and procedures." He spread his arms open wide to emphasize his point. "We're going to need a cover beyond simply loading our gained products and supplies into the warehouses in back."

Droid 090 beeped with a light shrill before skirting back to the computer terminal. A small stud of electro connectors emerged from its slender roundish trunk and plugged into the data socket. A few seconds later the data was uploaded into the hard drive and the droid rolled back to expand its task to the other remaining structures on the compound.

"While exploring this complex, I found a large supply of silicate. A type of which can be used to collect solar photons. With the appropriate restraint in our technological expertise, we can mold simple cells that can be placed onto the human market. Not only will it drive the additional revenue we will require to further expand..." Huffer paused briefly then shook his head, "well it might lead to additional revenue flow or it may crash and burn like so much Cybertonium or Grimlock's Energon casserole."

The engineer walked back to the computer terminal just as the power cable linked into a pair sockets leading to the gantry crane and primary electrical circuitry. A ghostly light doused the expeditionary team, cracked frames of light danced across the hood of Tracks. All revealing just how deteriorated the building was compared to the exterior façade. Chains held loose along a ceiling that showed obvious signs of water damage and good old fashioned neglect. The computer terminal whirred silently as two smaller monitors emerged from the rear. They began to cycle through thousands of data entries by the drone, Huffer absorbed them in quick succession.

"Well I'll be... there is a storage facility below the factory, an old bomb shelter maybe?" He muttered to himself as he toggled through the tetra bytes of data. "Most likely sealed off by the humans some time ago... interesting."

With a brief nod, the construction engineer looked back at Arcee. "I'll be fine here for now. With what remains and a few strategic orders and such, this place will be fully operational by the time you return."

Before he disembarked, Huffer pivoted on his heels and made his way over to Tracks and Arcee. From a wrist jack he drew two data cards, similar to the ones Ironfist had provided them. "These will provide cover for transactions committed with the other cards. In other words, these data cards here will serve as business network construction units. If you want this to remain out of deep investigation, we'll need to establish contract history."

After depositing the card into Tracks' center mounted cup holder, and the other into Arcee's waiting palm, Huffer spun around and pulled out a third card that was similar to the other two, yet different and held a different set of coding and handed it to Tailgate. "This is important to remember. Do not use this card unless you are acquiring the required supplies and only after the first contracts are entered into the Ethernet." He meant it as a warning to everyone. A random purchase order for ten million metric tons of concrete would draw far too much attention before they were even ready.

Once the cards were delivered, Huffer looked up at the mission leader. "I do have one recommendation for you Arcee. You probably won't do it, but it might help. Find a way to establish a company. Through various tricks of programing, you will be most likely added as the figurehead of this bourgeoning company... unless you want Tracks to be the... what was that human they continue to idolize? Oh yes, Tony Stark... sans the genius."

The minibot offered a quirked smile towards the warrior. The chain of command for the company was already being formulated within the computer terminal, and soon as the contracts were approved or at least in play... well Solar Tronix would be born. Huffer just wondered if by pulling off such a massive undertaking in so short a time would truly be possible. Even if it wasn't, he would still be forced to prove that it wasn't. "Maybe we should put an add in the local Detroit Free Press for laborers to help meet our future obligations." He threw the comment out there, not sure whether he was serious or not. Instead he made his way back to the portable terminal and began rummaging through one of its side panels for the tools he would require to begin his new hobby.

American Factory: The Restoration - Season 1

Outskirts of Detroit: Packard Automobile Plant

"Wait, what am I doing now?" The blue and white minibot Scout asked as he looked up from his previous sulking. "Parts? Supplies? What exactly is happening here?" Before his question could be answered, Huffer was already busy grumbling and handing out things to Arcee and Tracks.

"I'm so confused!" Tailgate exclaimed as he brought both palms to the side of his white processor plating. Here he thought Huffer was in charge, then Arcee goes about giving orders, and now he's being told to go with Tracks?!? What in the Fountain of Allsparks does this all mean??

The Minibot engineer turned to face Tailgate and handed the frantic Scout a small card, very reminiscent of a standard human credit or debit card.

"This is important to remember. Do not use this card unless you are acquiring the required supplies and only after the first contracts are entered into the Ethernet."

Again with the supplies...It only made his processor ache even more.

"Th-Thanks?" Tailgate responded, unsure of how to truly answer the Engineer. He placed the card into one of his hip-mounted storage panels and gazed over to Tracks, who along with Steeljaw, appear to have already taken to their alt modes. If Tailgate was supposedly ordered to go allow with him, perhaps he ought to follow along with him. In a span of 3, maybe 5 Earth seconds the minibot shifted into his white Sports car mode.

>>INITIATING HOLOMATTER AVATAR PROJECTION SEQUENCE<<

A young human male began to materialize in Tailgate's driver seat. Silvery-blonde hair coated the top of his head while a blue hoodie fabricated itself across his torso, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Black cargo pants soon blanketed his lower abdomen and legs as the process was coming to an end.

>>HOLOMATTER AVATAR PROJECTION SEQUENCE: COMPLETE<<

Tailgate rolled up next to the blue Corvette that was Tracks and awaited for the warrior's departure so that he could follow him on whatever convoluted trek he had been "assigned" to.

Outskirts of Detroit: Packard Automobile Plant

Steeljaw seemed to be taking some pains at least in not making this whole experience too much of an unpleasant for Tracks. He could appreciate the effort, if not much else. He could already feel the pristine nature of his interior being soiled, even if Steeljaw had not managed to bring a spec of factory dust with him.

Then Huffer started talking again. Tracks pretty much tuned out at that point and had clicked on the radio to a Top 40 station. It would do for now until he could bounce around the various frequencies. Then there was something about a card.

Come onnnn, let's just go, Tracks sighed internally.

Seeing Tailgate pull up alongside him reminded the Autobot warrior that he should probably activate his holomatter avatar as well. He had been driving without one before, but thankfully his windows were tinted enough that no one had seemed to notice. Even so, he didn't want to be quite that careless down here. In short order, a young man wearing a tailored black suit from the Balenciaga collection materialized in the front seat, a contrasting white scarf with dark Armani shades completed the attire. It was a human designed to be seen. And from what he had experienced of this planet thus far, there was no shortage of them.

He could definitely grow to like it here.

The Corvette's doors snapped shut and Tracks hit the accelerator, trusting that Tailgate would keep up as needed.

"So...where are we going again? What are we getting? Huffer has a tendency to ramble on and, well, I have a tendency to check out when someone does that."

Outskirts of Detroit

Taking the card that Huffer handled her, Arcee nodded and waved to the minibot as she turned on her heel to follow Tracks and Tailgate. She had listened, although rather absently, to Huffer's suggestions. Arcee's mental processors checked out at colloquial human references. That was far beyond the scope of any research that she had done into the planet's culture. Transforming into her pink corvette alternate mode, Arcee rolled out of the auto plant. A blond human female materialized in the driver's seat with one hand on the wheel. Rolling out onto the open road, Arcee caught up to Tracks and Tailgate with ease.

"So...where are we going again? What are we getting? Huffer has a tendency to ramble on and, well, I have a tendency to check out when someone does that."

Arcee chuckled. She could definitely sympathize with that feeling. Huffer certainly didn't have Hot Rod or Springer's charisma. "We're going to need to access the human internet. Possibly some government records. We need to create a fake business. It's going to require a little hacking finesse. After that, we should be able to just order things and the humans will bring them to our doorstep. That's the short of it, but you get the point."

Arcee's holomatter avatar twisted her head around to look at Tracks.

"Questions? Comments? Concerns?"

Outskirts of Detroit

Tracks sped along, processing what Arcee said and piecing it together with the bits and pieces that he could recall from Huffer's earlier briefing. All in all, he supposed it made sense. It maybe wasn't the most glamorous mission an Autobot could be assigned to while on a native world but it was also far from the worst. Whatever the case, Tracks was just glad to be on the ground and off that confined ship.

"Not from me," Tracks said, responding to Arcee's initial question. "It sounds as if we should hit up a human library of some kind. They seem to be natural access points to some unspecified amount of government records as well as a convenient access to their internet, just as such structures were back on Cybertron. Even if these are drastically more primitive, they should suit our purposes."

Shuttle Serenity--Detroit Airspace

In the intervening period between the time they had departed from the Ark-22 and forced their way through the atmosphere of this curious little blue planet, Sandstorm had pretty much made himself comfortable. Sideswipe and Broadside's jabs notwithstanding, Sandstorm felt good to be back amongst an Autobot fighting group again. He didn't really care what they were fighting. Just the tenor of the group before a battle felt good. Sandstorm was ready to go.

So of course they had to detour.

Picking up stragglers. Blah. Why weren't they in the field already? Why were they...here? Sandstorm's optics scrolled their way through a pair of small screens, reading about the city where this cluster of Autobots had found themselves: one of them the Autopedia intelligence page and the other being the Wikipedia human intelligence page. Well, seemingly intelligent. Sandstorm had read a few entries already that left him wondering.

"Huffer. Meh. Tracks. Meh. Man, I haven't seen Arcee in a millenia. She still a fox?" Sandstorm winked an optic at the others and returned to his reading.

Shuttle Serenity--Detroit Airspace

Hot Spot enjoyed the view of Detroit. In a way it reminded him of home in some small ways. This change in course still didn't sit well with the Protectobot commander but with all that is going on, he doubted things will make sense until the Fallen is taken care of and hopefully once for all. The shuttle is going to get crowded and soon.

"Blades, Streetwise, Groove, and First Aid, make sure there is plenty of room for our new shuttlemates. It seems Ultra Magnus is throwing everything including the last bolt at the Fallen. Aid, I want you to double check and then triple check to see if we got enough medical supplies on board. I would expect Magnus to have more on the other shuttle but it never hurts to have more than needed as you know all too well."

"Springer, I hope this is a very short stop. Time may be our friend now but I'm expecting it will be our enemy shortly."

Being the professional Hot Spot is, the comment about Arcee from Sandstorm made the commander shake his head.

"I know fembots and femcons are rarity but they are still soldiers in most cases. We should treat them with such respect especially the ones who have proved themselves like Arcee."

Shuttle Serenity - Air Space Outside of Detroit

The flight between Africa and the continent of North America seemed more of a day trip for the mnemosurgeon piloting the Autobot shuttle. Whereas it would take hours, if not days for a human to travel such a distance, the Serenity was capable of trekking through Earth's atmosphere in less than 1 earth hour.

"How close are we to Arcee's signal?" Springer asked the two bots sitting at the helms controls.

"About a quarter of a breems worth of airspace between us and the human city her team is stationed in." Chromedome replied as he gazed down at the technical readouts of his holo-projector.

"Excellent. Engage the energy dampers and the see of you can cloak this rust bucket, don't want any of the natives to see us while we make our pick up. Find us a decent spot to land outside of the city, it's too risky to fly us in there at the moment."

"Aye aye Springer." Chromedome replied, mocking the tone of a seasoned sailor as he began to slowly descend the shuttle towards the far outskirts of Detroit.

"Blaster, send Arcee and her team the signal. Gotta make this quick and we're running short on time." Springer commanded as he turned away from the pilot cabin and back into troop compartment of the ship.

"Springer, I hope this is a very short stop. Time may be our friend now but I'm expecting it will be our enemy shortly."

"Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing 'Spot. The sooner Arcee's team gets here, the sooner we can bring the party over to Magnus and his company."

Springer then walked deeper into the troop compartment, standing near the rear boarding ramp as he awaited word from Arcee or any of the Autobots she brought with her. The green and yellow triplechanger leaned against one of the support beams of the bulkhead as Sandstorm began his little quips about the femme's team.

"Huffer. Meh. Tracks. Meh. Man, I haven't seen Arcee in a millenia. She still a fox?"

Springer let out a subtle huff of air, chuckling to himself as a faint smile etched the left side of his faceplate. Classic Sandstorm, always enjoying the littlest of things as danger enclosed upon him. You could tell him that the world's gonna end in 5 mins and he'll still crack a joke in your face.

Sandstorm's words apparently did not sit all to well with the Protectobot commander standing nearby, who then proceeded to comment on the triple changer's little quip.

"C'mon 'Spot, ya know Sandstorm's only trying to lighten the mood a little bit." The green triplechanger then place a gentle hand onto the Protectobot's shoulder armoring, "He means well, you all do."

Springer then approached his fellow orange and yellow triplechanger and took a seat right next him. He leaned over into whisper distance and muttered something into Sandstorm's left auditory sensor.

"Don't worry, I saw her a while ago while we were back on the '22 together... She still looks like one of the dancers at Maccadam's."