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Iranian Desert - Central Hub

Hardhead didn’t need coordinates to find his way to the meeting place. He simply followed Ironhide to their designated rendezvous point. The danger from a Decepticon follow-up attack had waned as the seekers continued their retreat from the area. There had been no clear winner here as both sides had suffered losses. Although, one could argue that the side which retreated first was the loser. Unfortunately, the ‘Cons had also apparently gotten away with at least some amount of energon, but it was unclear as to just how much. Regardless, the enemy had succeeded in their main objective and that didn’t sit very well with the green warrior. At least it wasn’t the Autobots who were retreating as the stubborn mech would have scoffed at the notion and kept on fighting until the bitter end even if it meant disobeying orders. Thankfully, it didn’t come to that.

Hardhead reached the rendezvous point at about the same time as Ironhide. The war veteran looked over to his one-armed field commander and nodded. “That looks like it hurts, ‘Hide,” the green warrior said as he focused in on his friend’s severed arm. “Although, I guess it’s better than losing your head, right? Heh heh!” Hardhead couldn’t resist poking a little fun at himself, considering the lose of his cranial unit in a prior battle. Hopefully, it would liven the overall mood a bit, but he wasn’t expecting too much.

Iranian Desert - Several Miles from the Central Hub

Skywarp watched as Slipstream circled overhead before landing beside him on top of the train car. The femme was another seeker who had abruptly withdrawn from the battle, but at least she had signs of damage to her frame, even if it didn’t appear to be too serious. It mattered little to ‘Warp as the saboteur was one of the few on this mission that didn’t give him a hard time and had actually showed him some degree of respect. Even now she still referred to him as “Commander”, a title that didn’t seem to go with his name and probably never would again.

“There’s no need to call me that anymore, Slipstream,” Skywarp replied sheepishly to his fellow teleporter. “I'm afraid I stopped being the commander of this mission the moment Starscream arrived. And, yes, I've already contacted Vindicator on board the Ultrax and told him that he'll have to bounce the energon and myself from this location.” The prankster then received Ramjet’s communication and quickly opened a channel back to the white conehead:

>>”Understood, Ramjet. However, there’s no rush to get here as Vindicator will be bouncing us all back to the ship within one breem. So, just sit tight wherever you are.”<<

OoC: Sorry if this seems like a double post

Iranian Desert - Going home

Contemptor looked at the prone form of Hellion, and the mess of the dust and grit around her damaged form, fluids from her internal systems had turned the sand into a dark mire of mud and slush. Over time the desert would reclaim itself and all traces of spilled Cybertronian body fluids would be obliterated by the winds and the sun. Contemptor however, didn't care about that at the moment, for all he cared about was getting Hellion back to the damned Ultrax and getting himself a new arm.

'Grr....time to pick you up and take you home seeker...' Contemptor grumbled to himself as he began to retreive his energon axe before getting to Hellion. The only thing that bothered him was his left knee, as the scuffle with Ironhide had left him with a limp that was irritating to the point of frustration. If Contemptor were a human, his knee would have been dislocated and have required surgery to repair it. But as it was, he was more than a measly human, and easier to repair and, therefor, superior.

Contemptor looked down at Hellion and, with his damaged knee, gingerly crouched down and wrapped his arm around the bezerker's waist - and being a femme, her structure allowed Contemptor's arm to hook her before lifting her up over his shoulder. The injury to his knee hindered his movements, and after he stood with the stasis-locked seeker slumped over his shoulder, he removed his arm to press the transmitter switch on his chest. The large shoulder plates that helped form up the front engine housing of his alternate mode helped keep the femme in place so that Contemptor could accept the bounce signal back to the Ultrax.

"Well kid..." Contemptor said to Hellion "...we're goin' home..."

There was a faint buzzing in the air around the large truck-former as a shaft of light slowly got brighter and brighter, and when it was at its brightest, where once the large decepticon stood, there was nothing but a set of large foot prints that was slowly being filled in by the soft blowing desert winds.

Iranian Desert – Autobot Rendezvous Point

It hadn’t taken long for Ratchet to make it to the coordinates that he provided Ironhide. The CMO scouted the area before he settled down and removed his medical kit. It wouldn’t be long before the other would arrive and he’d be elbow deep in energon and mangled parts. Ratchet took a look around and spotted Warpath who had been following him to the location.

The CMO was no psychiatrist, but the tankformer looked as though he needed someone to talk to. Ratchet’s optics narrowed as he picked up one of his wrenches and threw it directly at Warpath’s head.

“Warpath! Quit your moping! Losing that damned gun is not going to terminate you, but if you keep this crap up I sure as hell will!”

Once he was done reprimanding the tankformer, Ratchet opened up a link with Ironhide, who still hadn’t shown up.

>>”Red! Where the hell are ya? I’m gonna contact the Guardian and give them our location so they can bounce us back, but I wannna get everyone patched up beforehand. Get here as soon as you can.”<<

That done Ratchet opened a link with the Guardian.

>>”Guardian, this is Ratchet. I’m sending you the coordinates the Iranian team will be located at for a bounce pick up. DO NOT initiate until I contact you again. Out.”<<

Iranian Desert – Autobot Rendezvous Point

As far as Warpath was concerned, he wasn't in Iran, or even on Earth. Right now he was in his own personal hell. Something he felt important that had made him an effective warrior, something that made him unique compared to the other Autobots, was gone. Any replacement Ratchet would put there, if he even did replace it, would be different. Warpath hated the thought.

"OW!" the tankformer shouted in surprise as he felt something hard hit his head.

The warrior looked around expecting to see one of the Decepticons making some half-aft, last minute attack as they left- probably that lame insecticon, Waspinator wanting to say he got the last shot in. When he realized there were no Decepticons around Warpath looked down to see what it was that hit him. He then noticed one of Ratchet's wrenches on the ground, and picked it up. He finally looked over at the CMO, who gave him a good chewing out. Warpath limped over to the medic, handing the wrench back to him.

"Sorry, Ratchet.", Warpath apologized, "I'll try to pull myself back together.... so to speak, heh."

Though he still wasn't his loud, boisterous, usual self, Warpath was at least trying to get himself back up. It wouldn't be easy, though.

Oh, my poor, poor gun....

Central Hub

Ramjet sighed when he received the transmission from the Purple and Black seeker.

He began to fume, if he was a Human, he would have changed color to crimson out of frustration.

"I can't believe it, Waspinator! I practically did nothing but labor this battle!" Ramjet stated, but no response came.

"Waspy?"

He placed the net on the ground to check the Green Insecticon's status. It was grim, Waspinator was offline and he was low on Energon.

He grit his teeth and stepped out of his cover and aimed at Warpath carefully, then fired out of rage.

He felt the air become static, so he picked up the netting with Waspinator inside, and he was bounced out in a shaft of light.

(OOC: I’m getting Starscream moved to the Ultrax)

Iranian Desert

After Starscream’s communique to Vindicator, and once the Impromptu Commander had landed safely, a blinding beam of light pierced the sky from above and bathed the silver seeker in its brilliance. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the light and Starscream were gone.

*All of the 'Cons should be back on the Ultrax*

Transmission from the Guardian to Ratchet

>>This is Blaster, I gotcha, Ratch. Just say the word and I'll bounce you all up<<

Iranian Desert – Autobot Rendezvous Point

As Warpath handed the wrench over to Ratchet, he thought he heard something. He turned around to see what it was, only to be caught in the shoulder by Ramjet's laser, just before the conehead was bounced.

"OWW! WHY THAT SLAGGIN!", Warpath screamed in pain as he grabbed his shoulder.

For now Warpath's depression was gone, replaced by anger and physical pain. The maroon warrior removed his hand to get a closer look. His shoulder assembly was still intact, but a good chunk of armor had been taken out. All in all, this battle was not one of his shining moments.

"AAARGH, BLAM! No good, rotten coward! Shooting a 'bot with his back turned and without a weapon!" the warrior steamed.

Warpath turned back to Ratchet.

"Fraggin, just get us back up there and fix me up so I can forget about this!", Warpath angrily asked, "The faster I can get my gun back, the faster I can BAM, all those slaggin' cons into scrap!

Iranian Desert – Autobot Rendezvous Point

“I’m coming, I’m coming slaggit. I ain’t that fast even with all of my limbs attached Ratchet,” Ironhide yelled at the medic as he jogged over to the rendezvous coordinates. He was starting to feel a little weak from the loss of fluids. He took a seat on the ground next to Ratchet, dropping his detached arm on the ground next to him. “If you can just seal up the leaks on my shoulder I should be good to go Ratchet.” He slowly pulled his hand away from the wound wet with various fluids. His internal systems had shut down most of the flow to the injury but there was still a fair amount dripping out.

Ironhide looked around at the other Autobots. It looked like they had taken some nasty wounds, but nothing life threatening. Warpath was probably sulking about his gun, but hopefully he wouldn’t have any problems once it was repaired. Hardhead had taken a beating but lived up to his reputation. He didn’t see the Aerialbots around, which was a little concerning.

>>”Silverbolt, Slingshot, you flyboys alright? We are gathering up to head back to the ship.”<<

The red mech looked over at Ratchet. “Just get everybody patched up enough to make it back to the repair bay. I don’t want to stay here any longer then we have to. The humans are bound to come poking around sooner or later.”

Iranian Desert: Rendezvous Point

Slingshot cursed as he pivoted over and slowed his mad dash towards oblivion. The flier was exhausted, low on fuel and high on emotion. This battle was already over and he didn't like it. The facts were that inwardly he was grateful that he hadn't managed to screw things up this time around causing the deaths of his fellow Autobots. But it was also mixed with the realization that this was yet another indecisive battle to which there was no sure winner.

Ironhide's voice crackled over his communications link bringing him back out of his brief bout with brooding. "Yeah, I'm here. Don't know about our fearless leader but at least I managed to keep these skies clear and safe for friendly travel." He let loose a callow yet hollow laugh.

He transformed into robot form as he approached the deck. Landing in the sand he made his way over to the collection of other Autobots. "At least I managed to fair better than most. And I got me a little tattoo coming for one downed and out Decepticon Cone Head."

Iranian Desert-- Rendezvous Point

Ironhide’s communique signaled the end of the Autobot offensive in the battle but Silverbolt wouldn’t be satisfied until he and every member of his team were back on the ground and getting a good once over by Ratchet.

For that reason he refused to respond until he saw Slingshot break off his pursuit of the Deceticons and radio in. Grateful the young mech hadn’t gotten his fool head shot off gave Silverbolt the silver lining he needed to take from the battle. None of his team was severely damaged and he was pretty sure he only needed a cursory repair.

Flying towards the ground he responded to Ironhide. >>“I’m fine Ironhide, will be at your location in four astroseconds.<< Ending his transmission Silverbolt turned towards the ground pleased this descent was of his own doing.

Once on the ground he sighed noticeably at the solid thunk his landing made. Once on the ground his optics blinked off for a second as power rerouted itself. He needed more than a once over, that was for sure but he had to see to his team first.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Slingshot with some Autobots talking up his conquests. Someday he’d learn but for now he was entitled to his fun. He earned it in Silverbolt’s mind. It didn’t take him long to find Ironhide as the Autobot was helping some injured bots to the location. Their victory was hollow at best.

“We’re both ready for transport.” His optics flickered again but his internal systems took care of it for the moment.

Iranian Desert – Autobot Rendezvous Point

“It’s about slaggin’ time, Red!”

Ratchet cast Ironhide a heated glare as the old warhorse sat down next to him. Ironhide then placed his severed arm down on the ground next to him. He then pulled his hand away from his shoulder where his arm was once attached. Ratchet move in closer to have a look at the same time he roughly tugged Ironhide over.

“That was a perfectly good joint attachment! I know because I was the one who installed it!”

With his optics now focused on the red mech’s face, Ratchet shook his head as he began to seal off the leaks. As he worked he grew quiet. Silently he thanked Primus that Hide and the others were not seriously injured. A couple of breems passed and Ironhide’s shoulder had stopped leaking any and all fluids. Reattaching his arm would take more time and more precise tools.

“Done. Once we get back on board the Guardian I’ll get that arm reattached.”

The CMO looked over his shoulder and spotted Slingshot heading over. It didn’t seem as though he was in need of major repairs, but he was certain that the Aerialbot could use some Energon and some down time. Silverbolt arrived just after Slingshot. A slight smile began to form on Ratchet’s face when he noticed Silverbolt’s optics flicker. The smile faded quickly replaced by a deep frown as he quickly stood up and stalked over to the Aerialbot Commander. Without so much as a warning Ratchet reached up and took hold of Silverbolt’s head and tugged until the taller mech was staring him in the face.

“What in the Pit did you do? Why are your optics flickering?”

Ratchet turned Silverbolt’s head from side to side trying to spot the injury that could have caused the abnormality.

Iranian Desert-- Autobot Rendezvous Point

To say Ratchet surprised him was an understatement. While not known for his bedside manner, Silverbolt had always believed Ratchet was given a bad reputation by his fellow mechs that didn’t like repair bays. Having one’s head nearly pulled from his neck servos can change that perspective post haste.

“What in the Pit did you do? Why are your optics flickering?”

“I crashed.” Of course the phrase came out as “Af crafft”. Before Ratchet could ask him again he grabbed the medic’s hands freeing him from the maniacal grip. “I crashed. Dirge… surprised me.”

There it was, he got it out in the open and was sure he heard Slingshot snicker. Ignoring the looks he was sure were directed his way Silverbolt stood as proud as he could. When his optics flickered again, this time staying dark for longer than the others he fought against the fear rising in him.

“I can wait. My team needs attention.“ He knew Ratchet wouldn’t let him off without a thorough exam despite his efforts, so he resigned himself to the fact he was at the medic’s tender mercy. Not the way his day was supposed to end.

Iranian Desert – Autobot Rendezvous Point

Ironhide offered the chief medic a smile at his griping. “Yeah, you installed it, but how long ago? Warranty probably ran out ages ago, probably do fer a replacement anyway. Mebbe you can drag me in fer all that maintenance you are always sayin’ I need.” He waited silently for a moment as Ratchet did his work. He knew better than to rile him up too much while he was busy working, particularly when he was the patient. He did clap him on the shoulder with his remaining arm when he was done. “Thanks doc, I’ll hit the repair bay once we are up and I’ve filled in the head honchos on what happened here.”

The smile faded from his face as he considered that meeting. He wasn’t exactly sure what to call this mission. At best it was a stalemate really. Both sides had gotten their licks in and gone home bloodied and battered. That almost felt worse then a loss. At least when you lost you knew where you stood and what had happened. This whole thing was just a confusing mess. Ah well, he’d let Prowl figure out the details, that was his thing after all

The red mech looked up as the Aerialbots landed. He mostly ignored Slingshot’s cocky comments. The young ones always like to talk up every little thing they did, like they wanted an energon goodie. Silverbolt on the other hand wasn’t say much, at least not much intelligible. Ironhide stood up and walked over to where Ratchet was examining him. “Is he alright Ratchet? We can delay bounce until he checks out or emergency bounce out now if he needs some heavy treatment.”

Iranian Desert - Autobot Rendezvous Point

Slingshot scratched impatiently at the singed surface of his burnt wing tip. Nothing a few cycles in the CR Chamber wouldn't fix. His fingers opened and closed before he banged his right fist into his left palm. It wasn't for attention, in fact he was perfectly content to stay ignored for the time being. There were more important things to worry about, like the style of kill plaque he was going to get after sending that idiot Thrust straight into the nearest sand dune.

Though inwardly he was still relieved that he had not managed to botch up this mission. The fact remained until the final shell left his cannons that he could have easily been left as a smoldering wreck on the surface of this organic infested ball of mud. All he had to do was take a turn or make a bank at the wrong second and the cons on his aft could have easily turned his burnt wing into a broken twisted mess of rent metal.

"Look, as much as I enjoy a good sand blasting as the next Autobot. Don't you think its time we head back for a well deserved heroes welcome?"

Iranian Desert - Autobot Rendezvous Point

The stinging from his shoulder disapated as Warpath waited and watched the Autobot CMO go to work with the other Autobots. Seeing the other Autobots with their injuries made the crimson warrior put his own into better perspective. After seeing the shape Ironhide was in he was about to make a joke about both of them being "dis-armed", though when the old veteran and the medic started focussing on Silverbolt's condition it seemed a little inappropriate.

With his mind not lingering on his devastated weapon as much, the warrior turned his attention to Hardhead. Considering all the boasting and bragging he had made with the green mech earlier, Warpath couldn't help but feel humiliated. Though he certainly didn't wish any harm on his fellow Autobots, the fact that Hardhead was in far better shape them him only made it worse. Still, Warpath was a bot of his word.

"Well Hardhead, until I get POW, this patched up.", Warpath pointed to the puncture in his faceplate where Waspinator and stung him, "And BAM, this baby replaced,", the warrior pointed to the small stump that was left of his cannon, "You're the best looking 'bot."

"WHAM, and I guess you get the first energon, Hardhead.", Warpath said, "I couldn't get any of those slaggers to stay down. Slag, there was this one bug that I kept hitting with everything I had, and he kept getting back up. Annoying little glitch, I gave him a POW, and a BLAM, and he just kept buzzing away."

Iranian Desert - Autobot Rendezvous Point

Hardhead stood and watched as Ratchet tended to each of the more seriously injured Autobots on the battlefield. The central hub of the Iranian oil field was in ruin and the Decepticons likely got away with at least some energon. Therefore, the mission was a failure in the green warrior’s processor. Even though he had succeeded in doing his fair share of damage to the enemy, especially the crazed Hellion, the sheer amount of damage wrought on this facility was far worse as was the loss of human life. Still, the war veteran felt a sense of pride that he appeared to be in the best condition out of all his comrades from the battle, a sentiment shared by Warpath.

“Yeah well, I’m always the best looking ‘bot,” Hardhead joked before a more serious tone returned to his words. “Don’t give me too much credit, ‘Path. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m missing my main cannon, too,” Hardhead pointed out to the crimson tank-former, gesturing to the gaping hole in his back where his 120mm weapon used to be. “Not only that but I’ve lost my shatterblasters. It’s a good thing the battle ended when it did. Otherwise, I very well might have ended up in worse shape than all of you.” The green mech shook his head before looking to Warpath once more. “Maybe we should have that energon drink together, ol’ buddy. Lick our wounds while we ingest that synthetic sludge.”

Iranian Desert – Autobot Rendezvous Point

Upon receiving an answer from Silverbolt regarding the problem with his optics, Ratchet nodded in acknowledgement that was until the Aerialbot leader removed his hands from his face. Ratchet flashed him a wry glare. With a grunt the medic placed his hand on the taller mech and pushed him down so that he was seated on the ground.

“Have a seat. I don’t want you wandering around this area without the use of your optics. Primus knows you’ll probably wander into some humans…”

The cantankerous CMO continued to mumble to himself as he turned his attention to Slingshot, who was actively scratching at his singed wing, but he spoke to Ironhide first.

“He’ll be fine, ‘Hide," he pointed an accusing finger at Slingshot,"you, stop scratching! And yes, I do think we should head back.”

After addressing the egotistic Aerialbot, Ratchet took a step back and took a long hard look at the battered mechs before him.

“You all look like the Pit, but you’re lucky I’ll have First Aid and Axle to help me get you all back in top shape.”

With their wounds patched, Ratchet finally decided that now was the time to get back to the ship so he could properly treat this lot. He opened a link to the Guardian.

>>”Guardian, this is Ratchet. We are ready for bounce.”<<

Iranian Desert - Autobot Rendezvous Point

Moments after Ratchet contacted the Guardian the group of Autobots that were huddled around the medic, vanished in that familiar beam of brilliant light. Their destination, the Guardian and then its Med Bay.

(Time to move everyone back to the Guardian)