The Energon Pub

Australia – Shuttle Longevity: Combat Casualty Care Unit

Rewind and Chromedome were in good hands with Axle. First Aid watched for another moment before he turned his optic back onto the tray he was readying. Ratchet would be back and he wanted to make sure that everything was in grabbing distance of the CMO.

He gently placed the last laser scalpel down when he glanced over at the lone slab in the back of the bay. Even with all of the noise and bustle of the area First Aid could still hear the sound being produced by the life support machines Veneer was hooked up to.

A medical drone shot by shoving his thigh to one side nearly toppling over the tray he had at the ready. First Aid grabbed hold of the tray steadying it with one hand as his free hand shot out and gripped the drone. “Hey! You nearly knocked over my supplies!” First Aid drew back his arm but stopped when he found he couldn’t move.

He whipped his head around ready to chew out whoever it was that had stopped him. His optics widened beneath his visor when he came face to face with a scowling Ratchet.

“And just what in the slag do you think you’re doing?” The CMO tightened his grip ever so slightly before shoving it back at its owner. “I need all able bodied medics available to assist, and yes that means drones as well.” Ratchet leaned down slightly glaring daggers.

First Aid recoiled lowering his gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry, sir. I just…..it’s just…” Ratchet stood up tall, hands on his hips, scowl etched even deeper than before. “Stow it! Get your act together.” He looked around the room and then back at First Aid who was still sulking. “Go have a look at Smokescreen. Mech looks like utter slag.”

The Protectobot doctor nodded before grabbing his tool and making his way over to the diversionary specialist and his femme visitor.

“And don’t beat up the help, Aid!” Came the shout from the CMO.

First Aid cringed.

-------

"But what if-"

Chromedome never even finished. Axle, never even bothered to offer a response.

"Every fiber of my being wants to say no right now... I want to lay back and demand we try jumping from me again... But that'll only deteriorate more from the timeframe we have... If the mech responsible for Rewind's current state is the only one who is able to save him, then as much as it pains to to agree along with , I say we try it."

Axle kept his optics on Chromedome as the mnemosurgeon spoke. He wasn’t unlike any other Autobot that had met Hex. The kid had a horrible reputation. But Axle often wondered if it was entirely Hex’s fault, the Decepticon who traumatized him all those vorns ago or his own. Yes, he often blamed himself for the actions of his young ward.

A smile, small mind you, broke out onto Axle’s face as he place a hand lightly on Chromedome’s shoulder. And while the tan mech stayed by his conjunx endura’s side, Axle moved to Hex’s slab. He paused for a moment and stared down at the unconscious mech.

The former surgeon pushed Hex’s slab beside Rewind’s and hooked up the cables to both mechs. He set the device’s range and nodded at Chromedome.

When the switch was thrown Hex’s prone form ached up slightly. The procedure was repeated twice more before Axle shut the device down and removed the cables. A quick once over of Hex showed he was none the worse for wear.

Picking up a portable scanner Axle ran it over Rewind’s still form. The first time resulted in an inconclusive find so he repeated the procedure this time receiving a monotone beep. Followed by another, and another, until there was a steady flow of them.

A broad smile graced his features as he looked up at Chromedome. “It worked.” The black and green mech placed his hand on Rewind’s forehead. “He’s gonna be fine.”

----------

>>”This is Prowl to all Cybertronians here in Uluru. The Fallen’s spark has been expelled from Hot Rod’s body. He is defeated! I repeat, the Fallen has been defeated. The battle is over!"<<

-----------

The message was received by the entire unit, voices rising followed by Ratchet’s temper.

“ALRIGHT, ENOUGH! Last time I checked this was still a medical unit not some rave!” The CMO glared from mech to mech to mech. Each one he made optic contact with lowering their heads and quickly getting back to work.

Seeing that his team was back on the straight and narrow Ratchet wanted to know what kind of shape Hot Rod was in so he could better prepared for when the young mech was brought in.

>>”Prowl this is Ratchet. What is Hot Rod’s condition?”<<

He waited a moment but got no response.

>>”Prowl!”<<

Australia – Top of Ayers Rock

Still a bit hesitant, Trailbreaker approached Hot Rod and Prowl with caution, ready to throw up another force field just in case the Fallen had decided to make Roddy his new summer home. Once he saw that smile on Prowl’s face Breaker relaxed. It really was over.

While Prowl spoke with Wheeljack, Trailbreaker made himself useful by checking on Hot Rod. The kid was a mess. Body disfigured, scratched and banged up pretty good. Ratchet was gonna have a hell of a time repairing him. But at least he was safe.

Trailbreaker placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

The force field specialist scooted away slightly when Arcee arrived. He knew she, Roddy and Springer were all close so he certainly did not want to impede on their reunion.

“Hot Rod? Are you...?"

Trailbreaker smiled ready to give her the good news when He heard the discharge of a weapon, the sickening crunch of metal against metal and the deep tone of Motormaster’s voice spewing out orders to Ultra Magnus.

When he finally looked over the scene it felt as though the whole Fallen incident had not even occurred.

“Fraggin' Cons..."

Trailbreaker looked from Arcee to Razorclaw as he stood up putting his body in front of both Arcee and Hot Rod.

Had to get Prowl out of that blockhead’s hands, but how? A distraction would help….yes, a distraction would be nice….

Australia – Top of Ayer's Rock

>>”Get that extractor! Destroy it if you have to!"<<

“Whoo!” Wildrider whooped as he darted forward toward the Autobot that the boss had blown back at them. Unfortunately, Swindle got to him first! Sleasy Combaticon trying to steal all his fun away? 'Rider didn't think so. Unfortunately, Swindle let the Bot escape into one of the nearby trenches! More concerned with that thingie...thing...extractor? He had it now. Was looking it over too. It was bleeping. Bleeping meant one thing to Wildrider. Good times.

“Here guys, Idon’tthinkIwantthisanymore!!" Swindle yelled as he tossed the extractor over at them. Wild Rider grinned and made a dash for it, catching the device in his outstretched hands. He instantly whirled and locked on to the trench that Wheeljack dove down. The crazed Stunticon punted the overloading super-weapon into the trench. That would teach the Bot a thing or two. And it might just blow Swindle up too! That guy always overcharged anyway.

“Whoo! Gooooooooal! Did you see that Breakdown? Dead End?” Wildrider cheered as the device went off with a boom, sending Wildrider tumbling backwards a bit. Just a little too close to that. The front of his armor was scorched. He cackled with immense satisfaction. “Bada-BOOM!”



“My sword... where is... my sword..."

“Sword?” Weirdwolf asked incredulously, wondering how on Earth or Cybertron he could possibly be bothered about a weapon at the moment. Then he remembered just how much his friend value that blade. It had quite a history. Lowering Skullcruncher to the ground as an explosion shook the top of the rock, Weirdwolf transformed and scanned the area for the gator's sword. He spotted it next to the fallen Hot Rod and the pink Autobot femme. With Prowl in their hands and a threat over their heads, the Autobots would not be so foolish as to shoot him. And he would not be captured.

“Fetch I shall your god-slaying sword, my friend,” Weirdwolf proclaimed to Skullcruncher before padding deliberately toward Trailbreaker. “With one swift motion, the king of beasts cleaved from the flaming god his right hand and the sword which pierced his plating!” Weirdwolf composed aloud, fiercely inspired by the events that had transpired, “Autobots, treacherous and malign, ripped the god's spark from his chest with a tool malevolent in design.”

“Angered by this betrayal, the Decepticons a coffin forged for the Autobots, driving in the nails,” Weirdwolf continued, pausing to think on the verse, “Or perhaps, vengeance? Hrm...died no one has yet...” The wolf-former's optics glanced up to Trailbreaker to whom he drew nearer and nearer with every step.

“Autobot! Greetings,” Weirdwolf began, seeing that Trailbreaker had no intention of letting him pass. The lupine tracker sit and swished his tail back and forth once. How to approach this. “Require that I do,” he said inclining his head to the sword firmly locked in the Fallen's severed hand. “Pass it to me, if you would.”

“What?!” Arcee snapped. “Why do you need his hand?!”

“The hand holds the sword I require,” Weirdwolf replied curtly, trying not to bristle with hostility or sound condescending. “Return it and be on my way I shall.”

Top of Ayer's Rock

Ravage had stayed hidden and observed. That was what he was best at. What he reveled in doing. And in doing so, he had caught sight of the device the Autobots had used to end the battle with the Fallen. A spark extractor. A mobile one. Not like any of the larger, bulkier machines in their prison systems. But a working, lightweight, mobile spark extractor. The potential was incalculable.

>>”Soundwave! The Autobots...they have a spark extractor! Motormaster has taken Prowl hostage and the Stunticons are dispos- have disposed of the device. What should I do? Are you alright? Did you get out of the Fallen's head okay?”<<

Ravage left the comm line open. His concern for his commander had begun to override his professionalism. Still...with what was going on now...there didn't seem to be much left for him to do. Yet he would not slink from the shadows until Soundwave arrived or gave him orders.


South of Ayer's Rock – Outside Shuttle Longevity

“Say what you will about Megatron, but at least he had some lingering sense of honor when it came to situations such as this. However, Razorclaw has no such honor and thus I would say the truce will end very soon if it hasn’t already."

“Megatron was an honorable if formidable foe worthy of the utmost respect,” Blindside commented, “Even from us. I'll take your word on Razorclaw.”

“I have no problem protecting the shuttle, Blindy, but...I know Razorclaw far better than you. I know how he thinks and how he would react to any given situation. He is an accomplished battlefield commander and strategist, and he knows his troops have taken far more damage than we have in this battle. Plus, he is a coward, who would use any means necessary to win a fight or protect his own men. The likelihood of an attack would therefore not come from the ‘Cons here, I think, but from above."

Blindside's optical sockets narrowed as he comprehended the full extent of what Howlstrike meant before he explicitly stated it.

“The Thanatos. I'm sure it's already in position in orbit from when the Fallen was a threat. Razorclaw has used this tactic before - an orbital strike against his enemies when the Preds were down and threatened with defeat. He’ll do it again here. I know it, and there’s nothing we can do to defend against that kind of firepower."

“Tactically speaking, it's a sound strategy. And-” Blindside cut himself off when Howl's already very familiar trademark devilish grin spread over his faceplate. It was a clear sign that they were both headed for the deepest kind of trouble. Like they were a couple of protoforms about to get into all kinds of mischief. Blindside smiled his own crooked smile in response.

"But who wants to live forever? Let's go!"

“Right beside you, Howl!” The blind tactician said as he plunged ahead with Howlstrike, climbing up the shuttle's entrance ramp. “So. CR chambers then?” Blindside asked as they stepped inside, his head turning unconsciously to where Veneer was housed within the makeshift medical bay. “As you said, nothing we can really do if Razorclaw is doing what you say he's doing.”

Australia – Top of Uluru
(significantly detached from reality.)

Frenzy had saddled up and Overkill had begun his charge, but before he could cover the distance Prowl had dived over the Fallen and he was down. Overkill skidded to an abrupt halt and took stock of the situation. The result of the battle was obvious, and it look less than a nanosecond for Overkill to come to what was clearly the correct conclusion about his part in the fight.

“WE JUST SCARED THE FALLEN TO DEATH!! WOO! YEAH!! YA SEE THAT FRENZY?! HE WAS SO TERRIFIED THAT PROWL HAD TO GO SAVE HIM FROM US!! YEAH UNICRON, I HOPE YO WATCHIN' CLOSE, 'CAUSE THAT’S WHAT GON HAPPEN WHEN YOU FACE THE OVERKILL OVERCHARGE! FRENZY AND OVERKILL – UNDEFEATED CHAMPIONS OF ...uh... THIS PLANET!! SOUNDWAVE!! COME CHECK US OUT!! YEAH!!”

He then enthusiastically launched into a long-rehearsed touchdown-victory celebration dance, Frenzy still mounted, likely clinging on for his own safety, as the T-Rex cassette began to moonwalk around the mountaintop chanting "IN YO FACE!" at anyone he passed. There was cheering, applause, and the explosions as the ‘invisible’ fireworks noises were set off to celebrate Overkills undisputed victory, and he spent a full two minutes revelling in his awsomeness, ending in a jump into the splits and back up, raising his tiny arms to the sky and basking in his own magnificences as the camera panned around him in celebration, his name in giant blue neon lights above the ring...


Back in reality, the lack of reaction from anyone was utterly lost on him, but eventually he noticed the stalemate on the plateau and processed (most of) Razorclaws transmission, the applause skilfully faded back to a tolerable level. He stopped for a second to have a think; the battle was over, but what would the victorious Overkill do next?! He looked towards Motormaster and Prowl. He glanced over at Razorclaw. He totally ignored Hot Rod stumbling to his feet and just assumed that all other optics were on him, Overkill the godkiller, because why wouldn't they be? He just scared a god to death, literally!

Maybe he should just sit back and bask some more?

NOPE.

Like a public safety announcement from the department of stupidity, he swung around to face as many of the collected Autobots as he could, and launched into yet another over-amplified speech.

“YOU KNOW YOU ALL SAW THAT - I JUST SCARED ME A GOD TO DEATH, AND NOW IT LOOKS LIKE IT’S YOUR TURN AUTOSCRAP!! WHICH ONE OF YO SONS OF A TRUCK STOP PARKING METER WANTS TO FEEL THE MIGHT OF THE GODKILLER OVERKILL NEXT? THAT’S RIGHT, Y’ALL NEED TO BE STARING AT ME AND FRENZY, THE CHAMPIONS, RIGHT HERE!!”

He clawed at the ground again.
“WHO WANTS TO MEET THE PAIN-TRAIN WHILST WE WAIT FOR MY ASTROCHARIOT HOME?!”

Ayers Rock: Atop a Dinosaur


Frenzy flopped backwards as Overkill skidded to a stop. Thankfully he didn’t slide down Overkill's back head first. He righted himself in that flash of a second that Overkill stopped.

"WE JUST SCARED THE FALLEN TO DEATH!! WOO! YEAH!! YA SEE THAT FRENZY?!"

Frenzy simply stared, mouth open, with a look of disbelief coupled with amazement. "Kinda...." He answered softly and slowly his fellow Cassetticon. "WHOOOOOO HOOOOOO!!" He finally shouted. "Dude! You totally fragg-whoa!" He nearly went backwards again as Overkill started his victory happy dance. Arms went around Overkill's neck.. sorta... his chin rested on the back/top of the TRex's head and he clung for balance and added his on whopping and hollering to Overkill's.

But as things wound down, he let go and sat up, looking a bit disappointed the fun was over.

THAT’S RIGHT, Y’ALL NEED TO BE STARING AT ME AND FRENZY, THE CHAMPIONS, RIGHT HERE!!"

"Yeah baby!" He chimed in almost as enthusiastically, though it was hard to match the TRex's enthusiasm. "You know it!"

He clawed at the ground again.
“WHO WANTS TO MEET THE PAIN-TRAIN WHILST WE WAIT FOR MY ASTROCHARIOT HOME?!"

When Overkill clawed again, poor Frenzy finally couldn’t keep his balance and tumbled backwards off the TRex on to the ground behind the tense group of Cons and Bots and got a smack for good measure from Overkill's tail.

"A little help here... " He muttered still not realizing either the tense standoff he was behind or the game of hot potato with a very dangerous weapon.

Australia – Top of Ayers Rock

Motormaster still hadn’t made any kind of move, probably a good thing for Prowl, but it seemed that his Stunticon teammates had.

The explosion drew Trailbreaker’s attention but only for a brief moment. The force field specialist couldn’t help but look toward the source of some kind of free verse rant…at least he thought it was a rant.

His optics followed Weirdwolf as the lupine ‘Con padded along and over toward him. He paused for a moment before he locked optics with Trailbreaker, inching closer and closer.

“Autobot! Greetings,”

Breaker’s mouth slid open slightly as Weirdwolf sat down, tail moving back and forth. Okay. This was…..interesting. Trailbreaker inched back a bit and began to raise his hands….force field generator already powering up.

“Require that I do," he said inclining his head to the sword firmly locked in the Fallen's severed hand. “Pass it to me, if you would."

Carefully the black ‘Bot followed Weirdwolf’s motions. From the corner of his optic he noticed Hot Rod’s hand. Before he could do it, Arcee asked.

“What?! Why do you need his hand?!"

“The hand holds the sword I require, Return it and be on my way I shall."

The sword. Figures. Trailbreaker took several steps back toward Arcee and Hot Rod’s prone form. Biting his bottom lip and face twisting slightly Trailbreaker activated his force field. With the three of them now safe Trailbreaker addressed the ‘Con.

“You want the sword?” With one hand he picked up the arm and worked the sword free. He turned it over in his hand before looking back to Weirdwolf.

“You want this….” Flipping the weapon around gripping it by the hilt and threw it over the tracker’s head. “It’s all yours, boy! FETCH!”

Autobot Shuttle Longevity – Combat Casualty Care Unit

“I know what I promised, Tracer, I just didn’t want you to get hurt. That’s all. Can’t *cough cough* fault a bot for that now can you?"

Tracer smiled in return before running the back of her free hand gently down the side of Smokescreen's cheek.

“No, I can’t fault you for that.”

Her smile faltered slightly as she moved to wipe the small trickle of energon from the corner of his mouth. Her optics roamed over his frame and finally settled back on the stump where his arm was formally attached.

“Yeah, he’ll be real thrilled with me. heh. Although, *cough cough* I think he’ll have to rebuild a lot of *cough cough* bots after this is all over."

The scout nodded morosely. The memory of their time in Mongolia filling her mind. Meeting Oil Slick just to obtain a single vial of Syk so they could replicate it. Tracer let out a heavy sigh. Was it even worth it anymore?

“Yeah.” Her response was halfhearted.

She straightened up when she heard Prowl’s message. It was over. Thank the Light God. Tracer relaxed and looked back to Smokescreen. Another small smile curved her lips. Their little trip together would need to be worth it. She just hoped they could figure out why the replicated Syk wasn’t working as well as it should be.

“See, Trace, I knew we'd win. Everything’s going to be okay *cough cough* now. Yuck! Sorry, that was gross. heh."

The blue and white scout flinched slightly once the glob of whatever it was finally expelled….via a wad of well-aimed spit.

“Yeah. “ She looked worried as she placed her hand against his chest plate. “I just hope you don’t have any internal damage.”

She jumped slightly when a hand pressed gently onto her shoulder. “Then let’s find out.” First Aid said calmly while he brought up his scanner.

Tracer gave Smokescreen’s hand a squeeze before she released it and moved out of the doctor’s way. First Aid stepped in close and began his scan. While the device went to work Aid ran several other tests with his internal medical systems.

To his surprise, and great relief, there was no serious internal damage. One would never have guessed had they just looked at the former rallybot.

“Well, the good news is there’s no serious internal damage. A few small leaks and a couple of connections need to be replaced, but nothing that can’t wait.” He turned the scanner off and placed it in his storage compartment.

“Now the bad news. Unfortunately, we don’t have any extra limbs on the shuttle. Not enough storage area. But we have spares on the Guardian.” While he spoke he took Smokescreen’s right arm and ran his hand over the blunt end. “Let me get a few supplies and I’ll get this cleaned up.” He lifted it further to have a better look, “A couple of these lines need to be closed off, and this connection should be repaired.”

Aid placed Smokey’s arm back down and patted his shoulder. “Let me get another bag of pain killers. Oh, and I’m going to put you on a nanite rich energon. It’ll help with your own internal repair systems. Quicker healing.” He checked the line the drone put in and nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as Aid slipped away, Tracer moved in and took Smokey’s left hand in hers.

Australia – Top of Ayer's Rock

Weirdwolf watched as Trailbreaker moved back toward the femme and the Fallen's broken body. It seemed that he was willing to acquiesce to his request! Wonderful! Perhaps this would be easier than he had expected. Then the Autobot activated a force shield. The tracker immediately rose to his four feet in anticipation of something, though his sixth sense had not yet alerted him to danger. The Autobot picked up Skullcruncher's sword and wiggled it free from the severed arm's grip. Unnecessary. Weirdwolf would have gladly taken it with the appendage.

A nice trophy it would have made. Alas. It seemed it was not to be. Wait. What...was that face? The Autobot Trailbreaker...had some...constipated look plastered on his faceplate. Was this Autobot defect in some mental capacity? Perhaps he would be better off bargaining with the femme.

“You want the sword?"

Weirdwolf was somewhat relieved when the Autobot spoke. He had been growing increasingly suspicious that Trailbreaker lacked even the most basic capacity for speech. His fears were unfounded though. The dim-witted Autobot understood. He merely offered a simple nod in response and relaxed slightly.

“You want this…." Flipping the weapon around gripping it by the hilt, Trailbreaker threw it over the tracker’s head. “It’s all yours, boy! FETCH!"

Weirdwolf did not move. Not an inch. Merely stared at the Autobot, processing in disbelief what had just occurred. When it sank in, the lupine tracker's demeanor transformed. Hackles raised and body stiff and brimming with hostility, Weirdwolf glared at Trailbreaker.

“An enemy most vindictive you have made this day, Autobot,” he growled out, low and menacing, “Challenge my dignity, Autobot most vacuous and ignorant?! Pay you will in tides of energon of comrades sworn! And then...hunt to the farthest reaches I will, you for his most ignoble offense! That fatuous expression plastered on your face perforated by my jaws!”

The insult had not only been to him, but to his amica endura, Skullcruncher, as well for the dishonorable treatment of his friend's most treasured possession. Yet this was neither the time nor the place for vengeance. Weirdwolf backed away from the Autobots slowly before turning his back on them and scooping up Skullcruncher's sword in his jaws from where it had landed.

“Feast Skullcruncher and I will on the circuity, the spark, the very soul of that impetuous Autobot...” Weirdwolf growled, transforming as he walked, shifting his friend's sword into his hand as he assumed robot form. He knelt down to where Skullcruncher lay and gently handled his friend the reclaimed sword, still bristling with hostility. He turned to face the Autobots, still kneeling by his fallen friend, waiting for Astrotrain to arrive, muttering to himself.

“Find you I will Autobot. Make no mistake,” Weirdwolf growled out under his breath, likely loud enough for Skullcruncher to hear, “And when find you I do....death. Shall. Not. Be. Swift.”

Summit of Ayers Rock

If Magnus's optics could freeze the cores of stars, his would have turned Motormaster and Razorclaw into solid glacial features upon the desert surface. They had just gone through a tough battle together, for the first time in eons as one united species. Yet as soon as it had ended they reverted to their old well worn ruts. There was a solid ground, a foundation in which to build a lasting peace in this sector and possibly beyond. But because a temporary officer could not reign in the ambitions of the less noble their war would continue.

From behind the pair of officers, and under the cover of a bomb burst crater a shadow flickered under the wisps of sun from the thick blanket of smoke. Magnus could see the familiar shape of the orange soldier, Scoop, as he made his way to position to attempt a rescue. Immediately Ultra Magnus calculated the odds of survival to all involved. Scoop was a fine marksmech and could probably stun Motormaster long enough for a healthy Prowl to get down as a secondary blow was delivered from another vantage point. Unfortunately for either scenario... only Scoop was anywhere near good condition. Prowl had suffered his fair share of bumps and dents along the way... and Magnus's energy and projectile weapons were still offline as his internal repair systems worked at fevered pace to restore them. If his boosters were at full power, then maybe he would have had the time to cover the short distance and deliver a lethal blow to the pseudo king of the dirt trail. A giant game of intergalactic whack a scraplet sounded like an ideal past time. But even that left open the obvious threat regarding the looming Thanatos that may or may not be in a higher stationary orbit above the two Autobot ships.

"I see," he spoke slowly as he barely glanced down at the spark casing near his foot. He did not make a move towards it as he knew well enough that Motormaster was a rather touchy sort. "So you desire a continuation of this war Razorclaw. After a battle where both sides have suffered greatly in a war that has cost us all even more dearly. Very well... Recover your dead, wounded and your scraps of discarded weaponry. Retreat to your vessel, for we will not continue this fight today."

He turned to Motormaster with a scowl. His short range communications activated and was immediately patched to all of Autobots throughout the region. "All Autobots. The Decepticons are afforded the rights of Honorable Withdrawal. Do not engage them... Tend to our own wounded and dead. Recover our equipment and prepare for restoration procedures. Again, This battle is over, we will not start another one." His fingers slowly, imperceptibly tightened around the handle of his hammer as various responses clicked in but all would acknowledge. Autobots were not, by nature, the more aggressive of the two Cybertronian factions. It was a fault that Magnus was beginning to find a touch too restricting.

As he was visually locked on Motormaster, preparing himself for possible treachery from the Stunticon platoon leader, Ultra Magnus narrowed his communications frequency to lock with Silverbolt. "Silverbolt. Carefully contact Red Alert on board the Ark 22. You are to return to the ship and prepare for departure to previously established coordinates. Assemble your command team for the job. Bring the Wreckers with you if possible."

The communications line remained open as a distant signal barely flickered at the furthest ranges of his tactical scanners. Immediately his combat computer began cycling the signal through all known recorded registries and came to the conclusion that some how the Guardian had braved its way through the atmosphere to enter a station keeping position above the summit. Ultra Magnus immediately cycled through the known officers of the Guardian and deduced that Ironfist, the ship's chief engineer and third or fourth officer, had been left on board. He made a note as to ask the engineer what was the plan that was being put into place at the time of that decision, but that was one that would late for another debriefing.

Instead he opened a separate frequency, "Hot Spot. As soon as the opportunity arises, return to the Guardian and take command. I want the most serious and critically injured bounced there immediately as well as our top doctors. But do inform them before they are transported, I do not need another filed complaint from the medical corps. Once the Decepticon signals are clear, bring the Guardian down and reclaim the Serenity with its tractor beams."

Ultra Magnus remained silent as the coded and silent messages were transmitted to his officers. They would recall their forces in haste and prepare for evacuation. In addition, the security of the two shuttles would be seen to before the locales to come and finally check out why there had been a sensor blackout over the vast region of the Australian Outback. Over head the high altitude contrails of Slingshot and Air Raid were widening as they dove towards the shuttles in the near distance. Quietly he wondered what it was they were planning, but if Silverbolt had decided to take matters into his own actuators and order the movement of the shuttles via capable pilots, then Magnus would not argue.

__________________________

Nova Strike pushed himself out of the dirt and immediately reached for the shallow but long gash along his support strut. The large piece of debris had banged off him as he dove to protect the smaller Autobot, Backdoor, and proceeded to carve up his arm fairly decently. A surge of pain arched through his torso as he stood up, followed by crackles of electricity as they danced the gap between two severed power cables. A simple diagnostic immediately told him what he already gathered from the surges and waves of agonizing pain that flooded his rear sensors. His shoulder cannon was no longer attached to its power generator or battery. Not a fatal blow, but given the tension that was palapable over the communications frequencies it was damned inconvenient.

He looked down at the smaller Autobot and gave a nod. "No need to worry about me. I am as tough as they come, little scratches like this only make the doctors panic." He gave a half smirk as he glanced back towards the summit. "If you need to get back to the ships, I recommend we head back to the shuttles. I am sure there is a more powerful communicator there that can get you through the atmospheric interference."

Australia: Autobot Shuttle Longevity - Combat Casualty Care Unit

Smokescreen coughed again as Tracer placed her hand against his chest plate. The femme’s words expressed her concern about possible internal damage as spitting up globs of energon could be a warning sign of such problems. Thankfully, First Aid appeared just in time to help quell her fears, bringing up his scanner to assess what harm had been done to the rallybot’s insides.

“I’m sure if there *cough cough* are any issues it won’t be anything that can’t *cough cough* be fixed,” Smokey tried to reassure Tracer as she squeezed his hand one last time before letting go and giving the Protectobot doctor room to work his magic. “You don’t have to be *cough* gentle, doc. I can take it. heh.” The diversion expert smiled up at First Aid as he conducted numerous scans and internal medical tests. Smokescreen remained as still as he could, flinching only once or twice at the pain in his severed right arm.

Once all of the tests and scans were completed, First Aid gave Smokey the good news. No serious internal injuries. However, there was also bad news in the fact that they had no spare appendages lying around. Thus, the rallybot would have to wait until they got back to the Guardian to get his right arm fixed properly. “It’s okay, Aid, I can wait to be whole a little *cough* longer.” The Protectobot doctor then took a closer look at the blunt end of his arm, noting that he required more supplies to clean it up and mentioning that there were several lines that needed to be closed off. Furthermore, a connection also required fixing.

“One of the Stunts helped close off the two main lines,” Smokescreen informed First Aid, coughing again. “But I guess he did a lousy job. heh.” The medical officer then placed his injured arm back down and patted the diversion expert on the shoulder, promising more pain meds and nanite rich energon. “Hey, what more could a *cough cough* mech need?” First Aid then slipped away, allowing Tracer to move back in to Smokey’s side, taking his hand and drawing a renewed smile from the rallybot. “Except you, of course. I’ll always need you, Trace.”

Australia - Outside Autobot Shuttle Longevity

“Megatron might have had more honor than Razorclaw but that doesn’t mean I respected him or ever will,” Howlstrike growled back at Blindside as they climbed the entrance ramp leading into the shuttle Longevity. “He’s still responsible for this Primus-forsaken war that ultimately destroyed our homeworld along with countless other planets and species. He sought out the worst of the worst to fill his army no matter how sadistic or crazy they were. I won’t miss him. Not one bit, and I hope he stays gone.”

Howlstrike then stopped at the very top of the ramp, turning to face Blindside when he suggested they just enter one of the CR chambers. “I said ‘who wants to live forever?’ I didn’t say I wanted to hide inside a metal box while the shuttle is blown apart.” The former Predacon shook his cranium as he glanced back down the ramp. “We can still stand guard here just in case any of those stupid ‘Cons get it in their heads to try and raid the shuttle for medical supplies. Like I said, they suffered a lot more than we did.”

Returning his attention to Blindside, Howlstrike smirked. “Just to play it safe, you know? Anything’s possible with a desperate enemy.” The tracker’s words were then cut short when a message from Ultra Magnus came in across the open comm line. “Mmm....seems we can’t start a new fight,” Howl said as he pulled out his energo sword with his good arm. “But we can certainly finish one if they start it first. Am I right?"

Australia – Shuttle Longevity – Combat Casualty Care Unit

“ALRIGHT, ENOUGH! Last time I checked this was still a medical unit not some rave!"

Axle turned partly at the sound of Ratchet’s irritated vocalizations and immediately caught Ratchet’s optic. The CMO raised a hand and curled an actuator summoning the medic silently. Axle acknowledged with a nod and turned back to Chromedome.

“Hey, Chromedome.” He gently put a hand on the mnemosugeon’s arm trying to catch his attention. “He’ll be waking up soon. If you want you can grab a chair and stay with him. I’ve got to speak with Ratchet.” Axle flashed the tan mech a smile before placing a hand on Rewind’s shoulder. “I’ll be right over there if you need me.”

Axle didn’t wait for a response, instead leaving the mech alone with his conjunx endura.

Ratchet crossed his arms over his chest as he watched over the activity taking place in the makeshift medical bay. He had his back turned to Axle but yet the white and red mech still knew the former surgeon was behind him.

“How’s Rewind doing?” Ratchet said in a low tone.

Axle peered over his shoulder and turned back to look at Ratchet. The mech still hadn’t turned to face him. “He’s going to be fine. I told Chromedome that he’ll be awake soon.” Axle let out a heavy, exhausted sigh. He’d leave the part out where he used Hex’s spark to save the archivist’s life…for now at least.

The CMO then gestured with a small tilt of his head toward the slab Veneer was laid out on. “And Veneer?”

For a moment Axle considered what he would say but nothing he came up with seemed to be any better than the blunt truth. He shook his head slowly and stepped forward now standing beside the other ‘Bot.

“He needs surgery. But I’m holding off…”

“You’re hoping his internal repair systems will kick in and take care of some of the work.” Ratchet finished for him.

The black and green medic wrapped his arms around his midsection and sighed. “Yes. The last scan showed only a slight improvement in his repairs.” Both mechs began making their way to the nurse’s prone form. “Can he wait until we make it back to the Guardian?” Ratchet ran a hand over what was left of Veneer’s forehead.

Axle lowered his gaze and waited. “He’s stable. I’m just not sure how long he’ll stay that way. The drain is working but the pressure is still building.” From the side of the slab he made his way to the head of the table. “I’ll need to remove just about every lead and replace them. Normally I would remove the brain module in order to do that, but there’s so much damage to his T-Cog and I’m not sure how stable his Spark will remain during that kind of procedure…”

“Leaving the brain in place and working around it is the only other option I have. But it’s not without its risks.” Axle turned his gaze on Ratchet whose hand had remained on the nurse’s forehead.

There was a long silence between the two doctors before Ratchet spoke quietly. “Can you do it by yourself?” Axle swallowed hard as he shook his head. “I need a second.”

“Aid can help you.” Ratchet mumbled before turning his hardened optics on Axle. “He’s good. You can teach him.”

“Ratchet, this is major surgery. It’s best to have another experienced surgeon.” Axle stepped beside Ratchet who quickly looked away.

“You know as well as I that my hands…” The CMO raised them up and quickly clutched them into fists. “I can’t trust them anymore. Aid can do it. He’ll be your second.” That was that. In the med bay, Ratchet’s word was law. There was simply no arguing. Axle nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“Good. But we’ll wait until we’re back on the Guardian. He’s stayed stable this long I’ve got a feeling he’ll be able to hold on a little longer.” The corner of the crotchety doctor’s mouth curled up as he looked over Veneer one more time. ‘Hang in there, kid. I still need ya, and so does Blindside.’

Both mechs started making their way toward the other injured when a series of warning klaxons began to sound. That was followed up by another telltale sound. The two medics whirled around and watched as Veneer’s body began convulsing.

Ratchet moved first and quickly grabbed a hold of the nurse trying to keep him from further injury while Axle performed several scans. “The drain isn’t enough! The fluid is building faster than it can be drained off!” Axle tossed down the scanner and grabbed a hold of Veneer’s head trying to take a look at the incision.

“Frag it! He needs that surgery now!” Ratchet threw his head to the side indicating the storage cabinet behind him. “You get prepped while I get him ready.” While Axle ran off he braced against the thrashing mech with his forearm and reached up to turn the alarms off. “AID! I need you! NOW!”
_____

The Protectobot doctor left Smokescreen in the company of Tracer while he grabbed some painkillers and a bag of nanite enriched energon. He wasn’t gone long retuning with everything he needed.

“Alrighty….let’s see here….” First Aid laid his burden down on the tray beside Smokescreen’s slab and got everything ready. “First, let’s get these pain meds started. You look like you could use them, heh.” The laugh came out more nervous than humorous and the medic quickly got to work giving the red and blue mech his much needed meds.

The injection was quick and setting up the energon hadn’t taken long either. Next he set to work getting the open lines in the right stump sealed off.

He smiled under his facemask when he was done. He placed his tools away and nodded. “There, that should do ya until we get back to the ship. Then we’ll fit you with a new arm and you’ll be good to go.” He looked to Tracer who still clung to Smokescreen’s left hand.

The smile was wiped from his face when the unmistakable sound of warning klaxons began to blare. Whirling around toward the direction of the noise, his spark dropped when he caught the sight of Ratchet bracing a convulsing Veneer. “Oh, god, no.” he whispered.

He was shaken from his stupor when Ratchet desperately called out to him. “I’m coming!”

Top of Ayer's Rock

Hot Spot was so engrossed with all of the recent things going on. First it was the Fallen's spark being ripped out by a very illegal device which was brought down by Wheeljack and ultimately used by Prowl. Even though it worked, it still didn't sit right with him to have a spark extractor working. However in short order that problem was rectified with Wheeljack overloading it and it being thrown from mech to mech until it exploded in the trench where Jacky and Swindle were trying to hide. While all of this was going on, Hot Rod slowly recovered his senses even though it will be a very long time before he probably feel normal if it would ever be possible. Third problem was Motormaster threatening, as usual, to blow off Prowl's head. Hot Spot may not like the prick bot sometimes and still wondering if he had anything to do with the device but at the same time he is still an Autobot. The threat to the Longevity didn't sit well with the Cons but unlike them, the Bots still had bouncing available to them which Magnus wanted to use now. Hot Spot opened up a priority one secure line to the Guardian.

>>Guardian, this is commander Hot Spot. I want emergency beam outs starting with the Longevity and work you way towards the summit. Get the Ark-22 to help with the more functioning mechs while the more serious will be taken straight to the medical bays. My team and I will be up there shortly.<<

Once that was done, Hot Spot closed the channel and open up another one to his team.

>>Protectobots, Magnus wants the injured back on the Guardian. I just ordered an emergency evacuation starting with the Longevity. Gather all you can if there are any remaining and take them to the shuttle. They don't need to be inside but at least close to it. If there are any severe cases, prep them for the bounce.<<




Octane couldn't believe everything. Before he knew it, they finally had won but due to his distance he couldn't quite tell what happen. He received the orders from Razorclaw to load up on Astrotrain. Knowing his buddy he would need a bit more fuel to carry the load of the army. It never fails for the triple changers to be regulated to carrying things instead of the glorious job of wiping out Autobots or even organic filth. Octane flies over to where Astrotrain is at and transforms into his truck tanker mode.

"Hey Astrotrain, may I offer you some additional fuel? I won't charge you, well directly. I'll get my payment from our high and mighty leader since it was him who ordered you to be our taxi again. Sometimes I wonder if we get any respect outside of Shockwave which he does in his own monotone way."

Top of Ayers Rock

"TRAITORS!" Springer exclaimed as his attention turned to the Stunticon commander's brash attack towards Prowl. The grip on his sword tightened as he began to make a mad dash towards the infamous King of the Roadways, that was until the triplechanger was halted in his steps by Jazz. The specialist may not have been the strongest mech for such a task, but grappling the Wrecker from behind and trying to prevent him from making a rash decision was enough to keep Springer from continuing on his warpath.

"Let me go Jazz! We gotta help Prowl!"

"You'll only get him killed! MM's not in a spot for negotiations, we gotta play this out."

"Play this ou- Do you hear yourself right now??"

"Listen," Jazz's tone changed from his usual suave to a more commanding and forceful tone he rarely employed, "We all want to help Prowl, I get it... But the moment we try to stage a rescue, they're gonna pop a fresh one in his brain. We stand down, and we play this out."

Springer struggled in the the black and white mech's grip for a moment before he finally gave in to Jazz's words. Hate to admit it, but he was right.

"Okay... Let them retreat to their ship." The triplechanger grumbled as Jazz released him from his hold.

"We should probably do the same, get our injured gathered up and make our way to the shuttles." The Special Operations Director suggested. "Why don't you grab Hot Rod, I'll work on keeping the peace."



"Spark Extractor?" Dead End murmured in response to his commander's communication. "Finally, the Autobots invent something that's actually useful." The Crimson and yellow warrior rose from the trench he and his fellow Stunticons were hiding in during most of the engagement with the Fallen.

"Whoo! Gooooooooal! Did you see that Breakdown? Dead End?" the most brash and reckless member of the Stunticon entourage hollered from above.

"See what?" Dead End inquired as he turned his head towards the air to see what Wildrider was referring to, only to catch sight of something falling fast towards his feet. The object in question crashed into the trench in between the Autobot who had crafted such a device and Dead End himself. His violet optics widened in shock behind his visual visor as he saw the warning signals emitting from the spark extractor claiming it was primed for an overloaded detonation anytime. The idea of a spark extractor being the device to put Dead End out of his constant state of misery was one he supported himself, but only if the device were to be used properly. See, it's no secret the Stunticon warrior wished to be put offline, but his dying wish was always be prepped and shined for when he met his end in the universe. Should he die in the spark extractor's explosion, his death wish would be unfulfilled. Drawing a crude, club-like weapon fashioned from the maroon and gold mech's Porsche exhaust pipe, the Stunticon made quick use of what little time he had to take a golf-like swig to the side of the device while it lied deep in the trench. Wheeljack's latest failure was then sent soaring up and out of the trench over towards its crazed inventor. Let the egg-head deal with the scorch marks, there were plenty of dents in Dead End's armor that had to be dealt with already.



Soundwave dropped from Laserbeak's grip and transformed back to his robot mode before finally connecting with the red dust that topped Ayers Rock. The conflict with the Fallen was finally over with and it appeared Motormaster was now taking care of ensuring the Decepticons could take their injured and leave as well as disposing of the weapon that exercised the Fallen from the flame-decorated Cavalier.

The blue and white communications officer proudly gazed over the mountaintop as he took notice of Frenzy and Overkill making the best of the situation. Overkill for one having done a courageous charge against the former demigod while Frenzy had hopped on his back for additional fire support. The move was highly unorthodox for the group, but comradery kept the Cassetticons together and able to cohesively work as one.

>>"Soundwave! The Autobots...they have a spark extractor! Motormaster has taken Prowl hostage and the Stunticons are dispos- have disposed of the device. What should I do? Are you alright? Did you get out of the Fallen's head okay?"<< Ravage contacted as he checked in with Soundwave's condition.

>>"Affirmative."<< he replied referencing to having been able to escape the Fallen's Mindscape moments ago. >>"As for something to do..."<< Soundwave closed his private comm line with the panther-like cassette and switched over to his shared link with the entirety of his cassette crew.

>>"Cassetticons, ensure the Autobots do not falter from their agreement. The summit is held and accounted for, but the battlefield is expansive. There are still lose ends that could be considered a threat to our departure."<<

Soundwave then approached the gathered Decepticon/Autobot force and took his usual space at the side of their Supreme Commander. There he stood watching over the various Autobots that grew disgruntled over Motormaster's latest play, bracing and readying his countermeasures should one grow so bold and attack.



"Silverbolt. Carefully contact Red Alert on board the Ark 22. You are to return to the ship and prepare for departure to previously established coordinates. Assemble your command team for the job. Bring the Wreckers with you if possible."

The aerialbot commander was reluctant to follow Ultra Magnus' order for departing from their position. Every fiber of his being wanted to join in on Springer's energy and help wipe the smirks off these Decepticon faceplates, but he better understood the risks of doing so.

"Understood, Ultra Magnus." He replied, his voice trembling with a tone of defeat as he switched on his long range comm unit to hail the Ark-22.

>>"Silverbolt to Red Alert, I'm sending you my coordinates as well as those of my team and the wreckers, requesting an immediate bounce from here."<<

Closing the comm line, Silverbolt looked to Broadside, Springer, and Sandstorm as he awaited to for the Ark-22's chief of security to engage the bounce process.

"Wrecking crew ready to depart?"

Ayers Rock


>>"Cassetticons, ensure the Autobots do not falter from their agreement. The summit is held and accounted for, but the battlefield is expansive. There are still lose ends that could be considered a threat to our departure."<<
Came the orders from Soundwave.

"Just when the party was gettin' good." Frenzy muttered from his rather prone position still dangerously close to Overkill's victory dance swishing tail. "Got it Boss!" He said cheerfully over the comms though. Despite not getting to partake of Overkill's mayhem any longer, the Cassetticon could certainly find some entertainment until they were called to leave. "Overkill, c'mon, Rumble! Where ya at, Bro?" He called out to the other cassettes. "You heard the Boss, let's make sure some Bots stay 'friendly'."

---

FUBAR Medical Outpost, AKA Poor Old Landgrab

Feedback's situation was still very unlucky as his unconscious form was passed from Starscream to Crueljaw, and Crueljaw's rough manner was what made him so unlucky. Of all mechs to be handed off to, it had to be the one that Feedback had made a bad first impression on (and was so far unable to change Crueljaw's opinion of, if he had tried changing, though if one was to be honest, Feedback was lousy at even finding good graces anyway, it seemed unlikely he would ever win over Creuljaw at this point). Crueljaw's rough handling of the seeker knocked circuits back inline and cleared out a bit of the overload, allowing Feedback’s reboot sequence to activate, he slowly, and briefly, as he was still far too overloaded to stay online, came to some sort of consciousness.

All sounds were muffled and distorted, his vision so blurry he could barely pick out shapes.

As his head hit the solid structure a second time, Feedback managed to gain enough consciousness to pick out Starscream's shape, though he had not the cognitive reasoning nor a clear enough optic reading, to realize who it was. Or for that matter who was carrying him. Which was likely for the best on the latter.

"Unn..." He moaned softly as his pain receptors registered the hit. But fortunately, in a way, his reboot failed just before his processors got the message from the rest of the pain receptors, which would have redefined the meaning of agony. Silence and darkness surrounded him again.

Australia--Uluru

Like a wave, the Decepticon communications chatter had switched from being ongoing panic about the impending destruction or trying to fight against that very thing to...to...victory? Pri---Primus almighty. Victory! The Fallen...defeated!

Astrotrain slowly rose to his feet, his optics increasing their magnification as he tried to take everything in. It was still difficult from this distance, but the tenor of the battle had suddenly changed: there were no more wild chaotic energies or elementals streaming across the Terran surface. It was just Autobots and Decepticons. Just as there had always been Autobots and Decepticons. Astrotrain was, for all intents and purposes, speechless. Fortunately, he didn't really need to say anything. he was a Decepticon--and not an especially high-ranking Decepticon. Others tended to do the thinking and speaking for him whenever there was any doubt.

>>”To all Decepticons, our truce with the Autobots is over! Furthermore, there has been a change in the evacuation plan. Astrotrain will now serve as our primary means of transport back to the Thanatos. Load all of the wounded into his cargo hold and make sure to thoroughly destroy all of the dead before leaving. As I said before, no trace of us here can be left behind. You will then board him at the base of the rock formation on the south side. Astrotrain, transform into your shuttle alt mode and land there ASAP. Understood? Starscream, since you and your seekers have the ability to break free of the planet’s gravitational forces, you will serve as escort as we leave the area. I trust you will not have a problem with that? Razorclaw out."<<

"O-Over?" the human adolescent said, looking up at the oversized living machine, his face still tear-stained. He seemed almost catatonic at this point.

"Yeah, over," Astrotrain rumbled in his scratchy, metallic voice. Now he would really have to figure out what to do with this little runt. He had kept the thing alive for this long. What was a little longer?

>>"I read you, Supreme Commander. I'm on my way,"<< Astrotrain said, transforming into his shuttle mode. "Get in. You run into the wrong 'Con out here, kid, you're dead. Just hide somewhere in front. No one flies me."

At this point, the youth apparently did not need a lot of convincing. He shuffled on board the Decepticon transport with all the energy of one of those living dead creatures that Astrotrain had seen in some of his downloaded vids from this world. The bay door closed and the Decepticon triple-changer rocketed off the short distance between his current position and the southern point of the base of Ayer's Rock where Razorclaw had commanded him to be. Upon arriving he opened his side panel bay doors once more and awaited the arrival of the other Decepticons.
___

Motormaster ordered them to grab hold of a....a....spark extractor. A spark extractor. The idea alone gave Breakdown the surges. How on earth did it make sense for him to put his hands on one of those things? And how did the Autobots get one? That was creepy on a whole other level.

To his credit, the nutjob got a hold of it first and Breakdown wasn't about to argue. He barely even got in a mutter of protest before Wildrider had punted the thing into some trench. The resulting explosion sent Breakdown immediately ducking back down.

"Whoo! Gooooooooal! Did you see that Breakdown? Dead End?"

"See what?" Dead End added.

"See him almost fragging well kill us all," Breakdown said, giving Wildrider a shove in his shoulder joint. "What was the boss thinking trying to get one of us to grab that...that thing."

Breakdown pointed accusingly at the burn marks where the device had detonated.

"That coulda been you."

Medical Outpost FUBAR

Starscream looked around the place after handing over Feedback. The place was...well, it was what it was.

"Fix me?" he asked Mal Practice. "Fix me with those?" he pointed to Nightweaver's wings.

Starscream walked around in a small circle, taking in all the parts of the station he could see.

"This is where you have been this whole time?" he asked. "Hiding?"

He found a spot to sit down, and looked at Mal.

"I also have some internal injuries. You may need to open up some panels and fix some circuit boards as well. Can you do that?"

Medical Outpost FUBAR

Strarscream wrote:"Fix me? ... Fix me with those?"

Mal Practice raised his open hand before Psychout could say a word, knowing his old friend behind him would understand the gesture. Millennia of working closely alongside someone allowed you a certain amount of leverage with them, and this was one of those times Mal had no choice but to use it, but he knew he didn't have long. Psychout had borne a near-homicidal grudge against Starscream for longer that even he'd known him, but now was not the time and even his normally-rational boss would understand.
Grudgingly, Psychout accepted the signal. He would have his moment yet, but now was not the time so instead he returned to his bodyguard “Crueljaw, bring that crumpled knot of seeker wreckage over here.” he indicated towards Feedback. “I’ll take a look at getting it back online at least whilst Landgrab preps to move out.”

Starscream wrote:"I also have some internal injuries. You may need to open up some panels and fix some circuit boards as well. Can you do that?"

At this, Mal had to laugh sarcastically. "Well, that depends on whether you want to fly again today, doesn't it?”

He gave Starscream a few seconds to take in the ‘outpost’ properly. A rocky outcrop in the desert, hastily established to fix whichever Decepticon was careless enough to get themselves injured while Landgrab towered over them all, silently doing his duty, as Mal expertly utilised his extensive medical facilities. Shockwave, Rampage, Tantrum, Headstrong, Blast-off, Battletrap and even Sideswipe, all laid out and in their recovery cycles having been repaired by the master surgeon whilst the likes of Starscream, Feedback and Darkfire had showboated above the mountain. He allowed the demonstration of his work to sink in.

“Does the 'mighty' Starscream - AERIAL commander of the Decepticons really want to be limping back to Astrotrain in front of his troops, or does he want to lead his team of vapid sycophants in their heroic duty as escorts for the 'triumphant' victors?” The gruff medic had no time for battlefield politics, he had played his role and now it was time to get back to his lab.

He pointed his sensor array towards Starscream, and it pinged limply. These internal injuries were a simple fix for a mech of his skill, and he rolled his optics.
“I could fix that with a scraplet leg and a quart of bootleg energex, but I don't do shoddy work, and I don’t work for free. If you want to be able to lead this escort, you had better come up with a bargaining chip, and fast. Razorclaw has already given the order to move out...” and he held his arm invitingly towards Landgrab’s vacant repair platform.

Medical Outpost FUBAR

Starscream could do nothing but smirk. Half out of frustration, half out of a sort of triumph. Psychout had been ordered to keep his trap shut, and now here was this hack of a medic trying to play Ratchet.

"That's exactly it." he said to Mal Practice. "Razorclaw has already ordered the evacuation. What will he do when I tell him you could, but refused to repair me in time for lift off?"

Starscream leaned back to once again look around.

"How did you manage to even keep this scrapheap functioning all this time?" he squinted his optics. "Especially with them around?" He jabbed a thumb at Psychout and Crueljaw.

"But if you do need something in return for repairing me, what did you have in mind?" Starscream's face grew serious. "Of course, in the terms of the bargain, I require high quality parts and thorough procedure. I wouldn't want to come up lame in mid flight back to the Thanatos. Your boss Razorclaw wouldn't be happy about that."

Incoming Response Ironfist to Hot Spot Via Encrypted Code.

"Good to hear from you Sir. I am sending the signal to the Bounce Chamber now to bring you on board. Expect some small delays due to power demands elsewhere."

Australia--Uluru

When Landgrab had been given orders to secure Shockwave and ready him and whoever else Psychout deemed necessary for transport to Astrotrain, Landgrab had complied as carefully as he could. He was dealing with Shockwave after all, one of nearly a dozen mechs who had been walking around this battlefield a short time ago that could easily turn him into particle dust. Fortunately, the odds of that happening only tended to go up when one was an either an ambitious or treacherous Decepticon--or sometimes a mix of both. Landgrab was decidedly neither, and this battle had proven to him once more how having a notable lack of either went a long ways to increasing his longevity in the empire.

Landgrab simply meandered along, securing and collecting whatever Psychout had indicated as the diminutive mech engaged in some pretty high-level discussions. It had been with Shockwave before he was knocked out of commission. Now it was with Starscream. Landgrab certainly had no desire to draw his attention.

Obey. Obey. Obey. Just keep your head down and do what Psych says, he'll never notice you, the repair tech thought to himself. He saw that Astrotrain had arrived a short distance from their current position and appeared ready to take on boarders.

>>"A-train's here, chief,"<< he transmitted quietly to Psychout. >>"Head that way?"<<
___

Rampage's optics flickered to life. Instinctively, he reached for his sword, but it was not immediately within his grasp. This caused another nigh-involuntary reaction as he sat bolt upright and looked around, attempting to get a read of his current circumstances and condition as quickly as possible.

"My weapon?" the Predacon warlord grunted as he pushed himself out of his spot on the repair platform. He continued looking, his optics searching out the terran rock formation where the bulk of their fighting had taken place. That fighting was apparently...over. And they were alive. That meant ...

"The Fallen? Dead?"
___

Victory.

Onslaught could scarcely believe what he was hearing when Razorclaw's transmission had come through. Perhaps he wouldn't have, but he had seen it with his very own optics. The Autobots had actually managed to pull an ace out of their subcompartment and subdue the Fallen, extracting his very spark from their Autobot comrade. Such a waste. Onslaught had been hoping that the brash Autobot cavalier would have been another casualty of the conflict, but it was apparently not to be. Shame.

Prowl, however...

Prowl, it seemed, had got himself just a tad too close to Motormaster. And in a situation that could erupt far too easily with individuals on both sides wanting to capitalize on any perceived weakness, the Decepticons suddenly had an ace all their own. Motormaster's rash thinking didn't often serve the Decepticon cause well, but in this instance the Combaticon actually had to give his Stunticon counterpart credit: he was impressed. And he could have chosen no better target. Seeing Prowl in that condition, manhandled by Motormaster, it might honestly have been one of the most pleasurable sights Onslaught had ever witnessed. So long as their prime Military Strategist was at their mercy, the Autobots would capitulate to nearly any demand.

Ultra Magnus, at least, exercised some degree of sense. The extractor was quickly destroyed and continuing their fight here and now would have been extremely unwise for both sides. They would very likely finish each other off and this particular front of the war would become a wasteland. One of the other Decepticon warlords would have to sweep in and clean up the scraps. Onslaught had no desire to see that come to pass.

>>"Decepticons, continue as our lord as commanded. Combaticons, regroup for debriefing within Astrotrain,"<< Onslaught ordered before sparing one more glance at Motormaster, Razorclaw and the assembled Autobots, hostage or otherwise. The situation could still go up in flames, but it would not be he who provided the spark. The Combaticon Commander stalked away, readying for his own descent to where the triple-changer had landed.

((OOC: Ok, I got completely lost in this thread and I will now attempt to get back on track. Please be patient with me.))

Australia--Uluru


Slowly Shadowing had transformed. The heat had fused part of his armor so with every move he could hear cracking and splitting. He did not have much of a memory of landing, he must have glided down purely by instinct. At lest he did not feel any pain at the moment. He could only assume his pain sensors had been burnt out. It seemed that the fight had ended, assuming his audio systems had not been burnt out as well. He slowly struggled to get back to his feet but his systems where not really cooperating.


Australia--Uluru


The battle had been fought and now it was over so Roadblock was silent. Across the battlefield he glared towards Razorclaw but said nothing for the moment. He would have his honor avenged but not now. Not in front of the Autobots. He would settle matters in privacy. He made his way towards Astrotrain.

Medical Outpost FUBAR

Starscream wrote:"That's exactly it. ... Razorclaw has already ordered the evacuation. What will he do when I tell him you could, but refused to repair me in time for lift off?"

"Razorclaw would thank me for showing him just how pathetic you really are." Mal Practice callously replied. The cold look of indifference in his eyes grew almost imperceptibly.

Over the aeons, Mal Practice had saved the lives of more Decepticons than he could count, but there were far more again that he had left to die because they were not willing to fulfil his terms. He didn't care and Starscream was no different, his attempts to try and blackmail him were nothing new, this was an argument many had tried on him before in desperation.

"You see Rampage down there? Tantrum? Headstrong? The Predacons seem to think my skills are more than good enough, so don’t think for a second you’ll be able to undermine my abilities. And Divebomb up there can see exactly how busy I am tending to his squadmates right now, as well Commander Shockwave... You have no room to bargain, Seeker.

At Starscream's expression turning serious he knew that the Aerial Commander, despite his elegance and grace in the air, was trapped in a corner.

"The deal is this. In the time it takes for Landgrab to transport you from here to Astrotrain, I will have you flying again using the materials we have right here", he indicated the dustball of the assumed outpost, literally just Landgrab and wreckage surrounded by rocks and recovering robots. “It’ll then be entirely up to you if you return to me to fix these ‘internal’ issues of yours when we get back..." he added with a hint of both suggestion and coercion.

He leaned in closer to Starscream, keeping his voice low to avoid any overhead eavesdropping. "We don’t work for Razorclaw." he whispered gruffly. "He may command the faction, but my orders come from a different source. I also know that you really can’t be happy with him in charge now as it’s a job that you so think you deserve." He stopped to flick some dirt off of Starscream’s chestplate.

“I’ll see you back on the Thantos, and maybe we can help you... uh... keep your wings attached when the time comes..."

Medical Outpost FUBAR.

Blades watched the outpost at work, silently. He’d only arrived there to drop off a wounded ‘con and been too amazed to leave, but now the truce was over. The temporary alliance between the Autobots and Decepticons was no more and yet... he didn’t really care. In the time he had spent in the company of this... outright bizarre... Decepticon unit, he had felt more useful than he had in years and he’d even, almost, had fun.

Their monster, Crueljaw, had beaten one of his team half to death and they had shrugged it off as a joke. Their leader was a mech no bigger than Rewind, yet he commanded the respect of all of them, and the way that crazy medic was handling the bodies thrown at him was unlike anything First Aid could manage... he’d repaired Sideswipe without question, yet right now was haggling with Starscream of all people!? They'd even had the perfect chance to kill Bumblebee but didn't - He wouldn't have hesitated if a 'con had fired at him!

The thing was, even now the war had 'resumed', they didn’t appear to care either. They just did whatever they wanted, and had true freedom. Surely, this is what the Autobots always fought for, and yet these Decepticons already had it? This was all backwards. He'd done almost nothing throughout the battle, but barely had any urge to hit anything right now he was so at peace, although he did idly wonder how long he’d last against that brute Crueljaw...

Then his orders arrived.

Hot Spot wrote:>>Protectobots, Magnus wants the injured back on the Guardian....<<

Ugh! More corpse detail?! He’d joined the Protectorbots as a guardian for the team, the only real fighter in a unit like that was bound to get a good scrap every now and again, right? No. Corpse detail. Again. But he still had a job to do, and he’d spent way too much time here helping his supposed ‘enemy’ already.

“Uh, it's Psychout, right?” He spoke hesitantly. Addressing a ‘con as almost a colleague still felt wrong, but he had given no reason to even consider him as an enemy. “My orders are in, I’m taking Sideswipe back to the shuttle for dust off now... so uh... are we going to have a problem here?”
Psychout, for his part, was furious, but not with Blades. He was aggressively unfolding the crumpled heap of Feedback with help from Crueljaw. The cassette stopped for a second having forgotten Blades was even there. “Oh, you’re still here? Well, Mal didn’t kill you, so you must have done a good job of helping him out. Means you’re alright by us, even for an Autobot. Take him and go, we won’t stop you.”

Without another word, Blades transformed into his Helicopter altmode, circled the base one last time, almost reluctant to leave, dropped his grappling hook onto the sleeping form of Sideswipe and flew him off towards the shuttle.

>>>Hot Spot, this is Blades. I’ve got a repaired Sideswipe here, and I’m en-route to the shuttle now. Did we cut the Fallen up good then, or what?<<<



Medical Outpost FUBAR.

Psychout barely noticed Blades departure, too busy watching Mal and Starscream have their private discussion. He was well aware that Mal knew what he was doing, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Meanwhile, his temper was getting him nowhere with Feedback, although he had realigned enough neural synapses that the comms specialist could recover consciousness any time now. Instead, he turned to Landgrab, stoic and silent; Shockwave reclining on one slab, the second empty, assumedly for that incompetent wreck Starscream, “switch to your mobile mode and let’s move out 'Grab, let’s get the Commander back to the Thantos. Jaws, keep hold of Feedback in case he wake-” but his train of thought was derailed by a waking tiger.

He took a step back from Rampage, who had begun to wake up and was looking somewhat irritated. “The Fallen is dead, your damage is fixed and Divebomb up there will take you back to your Lord. The other two should wake up any time now too, but your weapon is likely buried in the rock you were dragged from after you got hit."

>>Lord Razorclaw, this is Operative Psychout. We are preparing to move out from the Med station, but will need a clean up crew to remove the wreckage behind us, as we still have wounded that need to be carried. Do we have vehicon or seeker drones remaining?<<

FUBAR!

Accessing memory banks.
Slow boot.
Accessing primary memory back up files.

---

Feedback twitched violently as his systems started coming online.

---

Back up memory accessed.
Loading....
…….
…..
---

The last images Feedback had recorded were of forcefully being thrown by the impact of the dark energies towards Starscream. They were accompanied by intense pain that turned his twitching into writhing from pain.
His last knowledge of the state of affairs of the Decepticons, the Cybertronian race itself, was a hopeless, losing battle against the Fallen.

---
Primary audio receptors online: 24%
---

Things went quiet.

The memory files went silent. Black. Crackled back to audio and hazy video for a brief second before the second impact and then went silent. Just enough visual to see what looked like a seeker dropping to his knees as he closed in on the figure fast. Distorted sounds of battle surrounded him. But the silence returned at impact of the second blast and the silence of his partially online audio receptors was unnerving. The cacophony of the war around him had become, in the short time he had been in Australia, such a norm that the sound of normal activities he was now surrounded by was deafening.

'Am I dead?' He thought. 'I knew I would die in that battle."

---

Primary audio receptors: 79%
Primary visuals:45%
Damage repair systems: offline
---


At 45% visuals, the world seemed slightly hazy and distorted, hard to pick out any features. There was no doubt in Feedback’s mind that the hazy scene before him was the afterlife. Thing was, he didn't believe in the afterlife, none of this 'one with the all spark' stuff for him. You die, that's that.
Well, can't be right all the time. Especially with existential stuff. It's so abstract.


He heard Mal's voice off in the distance.

Does this mean Mal Practice is Primus? Oh... by the pits of Kaon! He should have tipped the Doctor better!

Wait.... no, Mal Practice couldn’t be Primus. Primus probably wouldn't charge for services.

He then heard Psychout's voice. Wait... wait.. no. They were all dead then, because he was pretty sure Psychout wasn’t Primus. Primus would most assuredly be taller.

---
Audio receptors: 100% online.

Primary visuals:100% online. Rebooting image rendering and depth perception simulation routines.

Optical imaging: 80% rendered.

Secondary optical systems offline: missing hardware.

HUD interface: booting.

Vocal simulation transmitters: online.

Language systems loading...
....
...
Language systems loaded.

Communication array: critical error.
---

That was an awful lot of hardware and software booting for someone who was dead. Wait. The Dead don't boot up.

'Oh slagging happy day! I'm alive!' Which sound like a moan to any listening around Landgrab.

Wait... critical error where?

"What...." Feedback said a little raspy as he felt like his vocals were full of Australian dust and the hardware not giving out a clear signal. "I can't bring my communications array online..."

---
Radar array:critical error

Jamming transponders: critical error

HUD interface: online

Jamming transmitters: critic-

---

"Shut up!!! I can read it all now!" He yelled out at the 'voice' which wasn't actually a voice, that was his system reboot messages.

His HUD was a dizzying array of warnings as his systems were making making a vain attempt to reboot. Of course every one of his specialized equipment had been fried in the attack.

His mind reeled from the information he was receiving. He was absolutely oblivious to anything around him in the outside of his head world.
Desperately selecting the lines of data on his HUD, he got the same message off of multiple systems.
Missing hardware.
Missing all his jamming equipment, the radar, sonar, communications, both transponders and and transmitters on all of it. Long range communications array missing hardware. Were his wings even still attached to him?

What had happened to Starscream? Did he make it through?

---

Depth perception simulation routines failure
---

“I said shut up!”

---

Image rendering routines failure
---

“I get it! I can’t see in 3D!”

The detection pods… missing, the air to surface jamming missiles.. missing.

He went over it again, sonar, radar, communications…

“What happened? Did it work?” He asked unconsciously as he was still freaking out over the loss of his equipment he really didn’t know what he was saying aloud. “Did those bolts hit me not Starscream?”

Positioning systems… oh for the… what was happening with the positioning systems. He couldn’t tell where he was. The hardware was there but not responding.

“Where am I?” If the others were responding to his questions he wasn’t listening to them. “Where am I!?!”

He finally pulled himself out of the funk of the missing equipment and focused on the outside world… err.. well, Landgrab and outside world.

And...

"Oh slag no..." He moaned as he saw Crueljaw looming above him. "No, no, no!" He desperately tried to move despite the involuntary twitching and mangled wreck the Fallen and made him into, anything to get away from Crueljaw as he was pretty certain, in his hazy, static induced state, that Crueljaw was ready to wallop him once again.

Australia Medical station fubar

The bodyguard looked on as Starscream tried to get mal to fix him up then start trying to make some sort of arrangement with the mad medic. He was loathed to take his eyes off the slimeball starscream but he reluctantly did as blades asked for permission to take sideswipe and exit stage left. "Its not like we're hired protoform sitters do what you want autobot" Crueljaw growled as his optics returned to Starscream who looked like he was pondering making a deal with the devil. In Mal's case he was as near as make no difference he'd sell Psychout in usb stick mode if he could get away with it.

Though something got his attention the fallen form of Feedback as his body started twitching and spasming. The ill tempered Bodyguard moved towards the team's resident comm jockey who was starting to moan groan and creak he then decided to yell

"You Alright?"

It wasn't really concern that made him say that he just didn't know what else to say to the barely awake decepticon.

"I said shut up"

Crueljaw's optic narrowed as he loomed over the fallen Feedback "You what!?!" the bodyguard growled softly as he watched Feedback attempt to scramble away from him. He grabbed Feedback by the shoulder and pistoned two rapid fire jabs into the facial area of the comm jockey.

"I think you should sleep it off where we going next runt?"

Crueljaw hoisted feedback up onto his shoulder again and turned to Psychout he pointed to Feedback.

"He should stay quiet until we're back on the ship then the real fun will begin"

He said the last part of his sentence with a certain relish in his voice and a glint in his optic.