The Energon Pub

Australia - Uluru

With Axle's screams of pain driving into Chromedome's audio receptors, the mnemosurgeon peered over the ledge of the trench to gaze upon the sight of the herald tormenting the green medic.

"Oh slag, that's not exactly the signal I was hoping for." Chromedome muttered as he stood right up and began to sprint through the trench closer to Axle's position. When he was close enough, he peered back over the ledge to see Hex drive his hand into Axle's chest plating and grab hold of his spark. Not the prettiest sight to gaze upon, but at least both of his hands were preoccupied on the medic and not open to retaliate when he decided to make his move to sedate the herald.

Chromedome opened up his forearm storage compartment and found the needles he was given were still intact. Just as he reached in to pull them out, the sound of tiny footsteps racing across the sand drew his attention away from his arm.

"REWIND!" Chromedome howled as he watched his conjunx endura firing off his adhesion rifle at the herald. The mnemosurgeon flicked his hand out to his side, exposing his signature mnemosurgery needles from his actuator-tips as the forearm compartment closed shut and the sedative loaded itself into his needle compartments. It wasn't his original idea to use his hand-needles to sedate Hex, but the sight of Rewind running off towards danger sent Chromedome into an instinctive panic.

With Rewind running head-on at the Herald with a strong grip on his victim of medic, Chromedone leapt up from the trench and made a run towards Hex, hoping to be able to sedate him before he could even think about harming Rewind in anyway.

Australia – Uluru

The young herald clenched his jaw. He ground his teeth as he growled out at the medic still before him, “What are you up to, Axle? Using yourself as some kind of…” Hex quickly looked over his shoulder when the sound of movement filtered into his audios. Not to mention a shout.

"REWIND!"

Rewind was fast approaching his weapon drawn and at the ready. Hex began to turn and at the same time the archivist raised his adhesion gun and squeezed the trigger. A glob of sticky glue flew towards Hex’s face. He shifted to the side avoiding a direct hit to his optic but the goo still managed to stick to a portion of his cheek. The young herald grunted when Rewind made his ascent up his back.

“Let go of him!"

Snarling in anger he released Axle who dropped to the ground. He braced himself on his hands and knees as he tried to keep from losing consciousness. The pain had been excruciating, but at least it was subsiding. Slowly.

When Axle was finally able to look up fear washed over him as he saw Rewind perched behind Hex’s shoulders. The former doctor reached out with one hand and tried to yell to the tiny archivist, but his vocalizer was not cooperating.

“Re…Rewind! Re…wind! Get...a…way!” Axle waved his arm trying to get Rewind’s attention, but with Hex flailing about he didn’t think he could be seen.

Hex didn’t see Axle but he certainly spotted Chromedome...needles protracted and at a full run. Optics narrowed to near slits Hex reached behind his back and grabbed a tight hold of the little nuisance hanging on. “Come here!” Hex jerked Rewind over and off. He then swung him around so that Chromedome’s companion was facing his approaching friend.

With a malevolent sneer on his face the God of Chaos’ living vessel brandished Rewind but kept him close his grip tight. He brought his lip plates beside the smaller mech’s audios. “That was a huge mistake, Rewind.” Hex’s optics locked onto the mnemosurgeon. His lips curled upward. It was the Autobot’s move now.

Australia – Uluru

Hex flailed about, which, in turn, flung Rewind about rather roughly as the tiny archivist tried to maintain his death grip. As the herald flailed, Rewind caught a glimpse of Axle collapsed on the ground. He was safe. That was good. However, that revelation was cut short when Rewind felt Hex reach back and grab hold of him.

”Come here!”

Rewind's optical visor went wide with fear as he felt himself being jerked off of Hex against his will. Scrambling to maintain any kind of grip, Rewind tried desperately to definitely not be in Hex's grasp, but the wiry herald was surprisingly strong and yanked him to the front with ease. Rewind wiggled and struggled against before stopping short as he saw Chromedome sprinting toward him.

“D-Domey...!” Rewind uttered, “I'm...I'm sorry, Chromedome...”

Rewind shivered slightly as Hex whispered right into his audio receptor. He couldn't just give up here! He had to fight! Rewind reached behind him and tried punching and clawing at Hex's hands, kicking his legs wildly in the air. As he did, he kept his optics firmed locked onto Chromedome from where Hex brandished him. Needles protracted? Was he going to inject on Hex?! What if the Fallen got into his head too?!

“Chromedome!” Rewind cried.

Australia - South of Ayers Rock

Smokescreen was not surprised at all by Breakdown’s response to his request that the Stunticon donate some of his own energon to keep Blurr going until help finally arrived. It had been a long shot to say the very least, but it was worth asking nevertheless. “That’s what I figured you’d say. Nevermind,” the rallybot said in a somber tone as he looked back at his racing idol who was still purging purple liquid by the astrosecond. For a long moment, Smokey considered transfusing what little he had left in his tanks to help the blue speedster even if it meant falling into stasis lock, himself. Unfortunately, the former street racer then noticed that the energon port on Blurr’s chest plate was leaking fuel at a stead pace, making near impossible to transfuse any more energon into his systems let alone keeping it there for long.

“Just take it easy, Blurr. Try to remain as calm as possible. The more frantic you get the faster your fuel pump with beat which will force the energon out of you all the faster,” Smokescreen suggested as he remained kneeling at the blue speedster’s side. However, the red and blue mech was forced to back away a few feet as he noticed the pool of contaminated energon around Blurr had begun to increase and spread out some. His comrade’s condition was worsening. Something had to be done and fast or Blurr would be another casualty in this battle against the Fallen. I have to think of something, Smokey thought just as he received a response over his comm line from none other than Ratchet, himself. “Finally!” The diversion expert exclaimed aloud as he listened to the CMO’s words before opening his own comm to the same frequency:

>>”Ratchet! Thank Primus it’s you! I’m already trying to keep him as calm as possible, but he’s lost a great deal of energon. I’d say about 70 percent of his fuel cells thus far. As for damage, he has a nasty bite that Drag Strip gave him on his own arm. That’s where the infection started.”<<

Smokescreen then paused as he considered the CMO’s other question regarding the strain of the discharge virus. The rallybot was no medic, but he was very aware that there were at least two forms that the virus could take. One caused the infected to sneeze energon out of their mouths in short, quick bursts while the other type caused fuel to leak slowly out of the various orifices around a mech’s framework. This second type appeared to be what Blurr was inflicted with except it was happening at an accelerated rate.

>>”I think it’s the type II strain, Ratchet, but I’m not sure. Blurr’s leaking energon from just about every opening and crack on his body and it’s happening very quickly. He doesn’t have much time and there’s no way to give him a proper transfusion. Please hurry. I’ll continue to keep him as calm as I can until you arrive.”<<

Instead of cutting his comm line, Smokescreen left it open just in case Ratchet needed to contact him again for any reason. In the meantime, the rallybot kept his optics fixated on the sickened racing idol. “Okay, Blurr, Ratchet’s on his way. I just talked to him. He’ll be here very soon. Just try to stay calm and hold on a little longer. You can do it. I know you can.” Smokey's words of encouragement trailed off as he witnessed a massive sand storm rise up out of nowhere. Surely another attack from the Fallen's arsenal of supernatural weaponry. Well that's just prime.
_________

Sixshot expected to be punched in the faceplate. He had asked for it, after all. The phase sixer even expected said punch to be rather hard considering it was coming from the Fallen, the purported demigod of legend. However, what the STAG had not expected was the sheer raw power and force behind the blow that impacted his faceshield like a blast from a fusion cannon, sending him instantly flying backwards off the top of Ayers Rock. The teal and purple mech could hardly believe it when he went airborne and at such a high rate of speed that even the Autobot Blurr would have had trouble keeping pace with. If Sixshot had not known any better, he’d have to conclude it was all just a dream and a silly one at that.

Of course, it was not a dream. It was very real and that reality struck the phase sixer even harder when his body careened through a squad of vehicons, sending them flying in all directions, before striking the ground like an incoming asteroid hitting the earth. Sand, dirt and rocks exploded in all directions, showering down on any mech that had been standing too close. First Waspinator and the vehicons had been used as flying projectiles and now Sixshot had suffered a similar fate. Could it have been any more embarrassing for the powerful STAG? Well, yes it could have been. The sixchanger could have been knocked into stasis, but thankfully that had not been the case here. He was certainly tougher than that even against the Fallen.

Once the dust had finally settled, a deep impact crater was visible for anyone to see. At the very bottom, Sixshot lay motionless as his HUD flickered slightly from the force of the devastating punch. From what he could ascertain, his systems were all stable and functioning at optimal levels. He expected nothing less from having only endured one strike even if it was from a supernatural force of legend. “Errrrr...” the phase sixer groaned as began to slowly move. “Impressive, I actually felt that!” The STAG then reached up with one hand and rubbed his face shield, immediately discovering a sizable crack that stretched from one side to the other. “You’ve got to be fraggin’ kidding me?! He cracked my face?! Really?! Son-of-a-glitch!!”

Regaining his composure, Sixshot got to his feet and gazed up to the top of the crater he now found himself in. Wasting no time, he swiftly transformed into his star fighter alt mode and rocketed out of the deep hole, taking aim for the top of Ayers Rock. His sights were once again set on the Fallen. Revenge for that humiliation was first and foremost on his processor as he engaged his weapons. However, the sixchanger would be denied his quarry as a massive sand storm suddenly rose up on all sides as he approached the mountain. More of the demigod’s tricks no doubt. The sand swirled around him as Sixshot tried to push through. Unfortunately, this was no ordinary storm. The power of the Fallen gave it strength like no other.

Sand and dirt began to clog the STAG’s engines, causing them to burn out and sending Sixshot into an uncontrollable tailspin through the dense skies. The intense winds blew him away from Ayers Rock and forced the sixchanger back down towards the ground below. Within astroseconds, the star fighter crashed hard into the desert floor, leaving a wide trench in his wake. What could be more embarrassing for the phase sixer than being downed by a single punch? Being downed for a second time in just under a breem would do it. “Slaggit!!!”

Australia - Near Autobot Shuttle Longevity

Skywarp had somehow not noticed when Darkride exited the shuttle and snuck around behind him. The teleporter had been previously distracted by Octane and then sending a message to Oil Slick in an attempt to find him. The prankster looked out across the desert sand in the direction of the chemical expert’s last known position. Finally, he spotted a green and yellow motorcycle with a skull mounted on the front that was undoubtedly his diversionary companion.

“There you are...” Skywarp muttered under his breath. He then heard the unmistakable battle cry of the former interrogator coming from behind him. The seeker’s optics widened as he attempted to spin around to face his target. Unfortunately, he had not been quick enough as Darkride’s talons scraped across his right wing’s joint, damaging it in the process. It wasn’t a complete break but it was weakened enough to possibly cause 'Warp problems if he tried to fly again.

“Argghhhh!! You little fragger!!!” Skywarp yelled, initiating a quick teleport that brought him a safe distance away from the herald’s position. The prankster raised his arm guns up to fire but stopped as he noticed the immense sand storm that had been conjured up by the Fallen, engulfing Ayers Rock and many of the Cybertronian forces on the ground. “I take it that’s your master’s doing, Darkride? Pathetic! You know, it’ll take more than a mere storm to stop us from sending him back to the slag pit from where he came!”

Hoping the insult would piss off Darkride enough to divert his attention, Skywarp swiftly teleported again. This time, he reappeared directly behind the former interrogator where the prankster then grabbed a hold of the herald in a tight bear hug. “Hold on, cupcake. This might be a bit jolting even for you,” the prankster warned before teleporting again with his prey in tow.

Moments later, a bright flash of purple light illuminated the pathway directly in front of Oil Slick’s alt mode. Skywarp was now standing there holding Darkride as tightly as he could from behind. In a rare moment of actual thought, ‘Warp figured it would be easier to bring the former interrogator directly to the chemical expert instead of waiting for him to arrive at the shuttle. After all, they had previously talked about using teleportation to get the drop on the disgusting torturer. Wasting no time, the seeker opened a secured comm line with his diversion partner:

>>“Hey, Slick! Use the syringe now before I lose my hold on him! Quick!!”<<

((OOC: Teleported Darkride with Ember's permission.))

Anvil Forces

Hot Spot received the message from Ratchet. The idea of his entire team doing minor repair work would remove them from the fight. He already had First Aid doing his job while Groove was being the scout. Blades took the transporting route which left himself and Streetwise. While Hot Spot was considering all of this, a giant sandstorm came up out of nowhere or more likely thanks to the Fallen and came at them. He ducked beneath the cover as much as possible and took the barrage of dirt, rock, and sand pummeling him. None of it was causing too much damage but he did notice it starting to get into the minute cracks in his armor and joints.

>>Commander Ultra Magnus and Prowl, Ratchet just suggested to me for my team to do the minor fixes and round up the wounded. With this new sandstorm, I honestly can't see anyone getting close who has yet to climb the rock formation. At this current point, the best option is to drill underneath and up through the formation. Too bad the Technobots aren't here with Nosecone. Maybe we can convince the Cons in using the Constructicons to dig through if they are down here. As for Ratchet's suggestion, I know I've got three of my guys helping with the wounded and again I nor Streetwise are going to be much use at the present nanoclick.<<

(OCC: More to come with Skydive, Battletrap, and others when I'm more awake.)

Uluru – East of Ayer's Rock

“For a blind Autobot you did pretty well. Thanks for the help. You have my respect." Howl placed a firm hand on the sightless mech’s shoulder before gazing down at the damage Hardhead had inflicted on the tactician. “That looks bad. You should get the hatchet to fix that." The Autobot hunter then stood back up and extended a helping hand down to assist Blindside in standing. “You can lean on me while we make our way back to the Longevity."

“Just pretty well?” Blindside replied with a crooked smile, “I guess you weren't half-bad yourself lobo.” Blindside glanced down at his badly damaged frame with a sigh as Howlstrike pointed it out. “Vee's gonna kill me...” Blindside groaned as he took Howlstrike's hand and rose to his feet unsteadily. “Oh, okay. Ouch. That smarts a bit, doesn't it?” Blindside muttered dully as he whole side erupted in excruciating pain.

The blind tactician took his lupine friend up on his offer and leaned on Howlstrike as the pair started making their way back toward the shuttles. He inspected Howlstrike for injuries without moving his head because, well, moving hurt. “You sure you don't need the hatchet too? You're a bit dinged up,” Blindside commented dryly.

As much as he might have wanted to walk on his own power, Blindside knew that would be both slow and stupid. His pride wasn't so large as to get in the way of common sense, and he didn't want Howl's to do that either. Guess he picked up something from Veneer. He heaved a heavy sigh. Bleh. Not his day. He needed to get back out there though. As soon as possible.

“So about the animal alternate mode you were talking about earlier...” Blindside started, making a little idle chatter, “I'm thinking a bat...I'm not giving up flying. It's a shame that you can't...oh. Right. You were a Decepticon. You can fly in robot mode. Duh.” Blindside shook his head. “Sorry. I'm stupid,” Blindside said with a chuckle.

>>“I need help over here! Darkride’s in the Longevity!! I think he’s killed Veneer!! Help!! Help me!!!"<<

Blindside stopped dead in his tracks, his optical sockets going wide as a look of complete shock struck his faceplate. He couldn't move. Couldn't think. See anything. He only heard an echo of Hound's transmission playing back in his mind over and over again.

“No...no...no..nonononono...no...NO....no...”

Slowly, his hands balled up into tight fists. Blindside could feel something welling up within him, boiling up from deep, deep down. Familiar. Like a distant memory or an old friend. Blindside knew it well. But...Vee...'think' didn't sound so sure. There could be a chance to save him! Or...he could hunt Darkride...and watch the little glitch writhe in agony...

Abruptly, Blindside jerked away from Howlstike and began to sprint toward the shuttles. His side came alive with a pain like no other, but he kept moving. He couldn't stop. His injured leg suddenly locked up on him, making the blind tactician face plant into the sand. With a grunt, Blindside pushed himself back onto his feet and kept running. Tripped. Up again. Moving. Agony. Energon levels rapidly depleting. Didn't care.

Tripped again. Damn sand. Unstable footing. Blindside pushed himself up to his feet again only to find that he was having issues standing much less anything else. Still. Couldn't stop. Blindside staggered forward, limping heavily and energon pouring from his open wounds. The shuttles were in sight. He had to keep going...Blindside took another step forward, his knee buckling under him. He fell into the sand again.

“VEE...!” Blindside choked out in a broken sob.

Blindside groaned in agony as he tried to force himself to his feet again. “Agggghhh! Rrrrrrrraaahhh!” The blind tactician forced his legs underneath him. He raised a leg and set his foot down onto the sand. Pushed down on the leg, tried to stand, his face contorting with the effort.

Australia- Uluru

Taking his optics off the incompetence of his idiotic accomplice, Bistream watched in quiet, stunned silence as Sixshot got thrown off the side of the plateau towards the desert far below. The Fallen had demonstrated his power in stunning, horrifying fashion, and quickly demonstrated that even the Decepticon trump card was well below him.

But Bitsream's plans entirely relied upon Sixshot. If he didn't act now, he'd lose his opportunity to assassinate Starscream.

"I'm going to help Sixshot!" Bitsream called to whoever was in earshot, switching to his F-15 form and kicking in the afterburners, sailing off the rock in pursuit of the fallen Sixshot. He could only hope his cry would be noticed, lest someone brand him a deserter; a coward under fire. Decepticon solutions to that usually involved immediate termination.

"Nightweaver," Bitstream spoke onto a private comm signal, "regain some of your lost standing. Draw our commanders' attention while I repair Sixshot!"


-

Nightweaver shoved the chassis of the interceptor Misfire off him and staggered up, just in time to hear Bitstream's instruction. Nightweaver glanced up at the Fallen and then back to the united Autobots and Decepticons moving closer... and saw one among their number in the ground forces, walking alongside his fellow Predacon squadmates: Tantrum, the one who'd wronged him.

Nightweaver figured he'd draw attention, even in the chaotic mess this battle had quickly degenerated into...

"Tantrum!" Nightweaver called into his commlink. "I invoke the challenge of Aria-Bellum! Only one of us will have the honor of taking this fallen Prime's head!"

He unsheathed his battle blade and walked towards his own offensive line.

Australia - Uluru

“Hey Silverbolt! I’ve got clearance from Prowl to join up with the Anvil forces on the ground. Wanna drop me an’ Eject off?"

Silverbolt banked around from his latest -and unsuccessful- bombing run at the Fallen. It was probably smart to drop the two passengers he was carrying aboard. Not that they weren't doing much in the air, but Prowl was right when he figured they would do more damage on the ground-levels of the battlefield.

"Understood Blaster, lemme find a safe spot to set you two down." The Aerialbot commander replied as he swung around the base of Ayer's Rock, igniting his transformation cog as he closed in on the Autobot shuttle, the Serenity.

"WHOA! I should Red-card ya' on that play Silverbolt!" Eject spurted as he leaped from Silverbolt's cockpit shortly before the Aerialbot leader finished his transformation to robot mode. "That could technically be considered 'ruffing the passer'!"

Silverbolt let out a huff of air in relief that he was this close to the ground again. He wouldn't tell Blaster or Eject of it, but flying up there with two extra bodies he could have endangered was really hard on his handling of his phobia.

"Oh sorry bout that Eject. I'll be sure to be more careful next time!" Silverbolt tried to reassure the surveillance specialist through a nervous tone. Before Silverbolt took off to the skies once more, he lowered Blaster -still in in his boombox mode- to the ground by Eject's feet. "Alright, I wish you guys luck in stopping that thing, we're gonna keep hammering it from the skies."

If I can manage to keep myself up here that is...

Revertting back to his Jet-mode, Silverbolt kicked in his afterburners and scorched off higher into the Australian skies.

>>"Aerialbots, form up on me. We need to rethink our strategy."<< Silverbolt called over his comm line to his teammates while trying to ignore his increasing altitude.



Chromedome froze in his tracks as the herald grabbed hold of the small black and white archivist, his optical visor shifting into a expression of complete shock and worry.

“Chromedome!" Rewind cried.

"Don't you dare hurt him!" Chromedome shouted to Hex as he raised the hand that held his laser pistol and aimed his weapon at the herald. Hex could very well put the archivist in Chromedome's line of fire, but the situation was demanding some sort of response from the mnemosurgeon. He just had to be careful, all the chips seemed to be in Hex's favor at the moment. Hex still wasn't aware of the sedation serum located inside Chromedome's forearm at the moment, so he still had that trick up his sleeve, but it wasn't worth the risk of exposing it.

Chromedome's weapon began to wobble and tremble in his actuators as fear began to sweep through his chassis. The clattering of his mnemosurgery needles could be heard as his free hand began to twitch in a nervous fashion.

"Please Hex..." Chromedome pleaded, "W-We can help you...Jus-Just don't hurt them..."

Australia--Uluru

In a flash of white, Shockwave and Starscream appeared at the very same coordinates where the bulk of the Decepticon forces had been initially amassed. In the distance--the terrestrial mineral formation known by the natives as Ayer's Rock, and all around it were the signs of a battle that was still very much not over.

Shockwave analyzed the current positioning and entrenchments that had obviously been constructed by Vehicon forces. They would serve as an adequate fallback position, but were mostly irrelevant given the current dynamics of the conflict. Additionally, this position would not be ideal for collecting the data that he desired, though it was a significant improvement over what he had been receiving from Shadowing. Now the energies that were present were of such magnitude that they could well cause sensory overload, but Shockwave would take that risk. The information that could be gathered here could well be synthesized with what they had gathered from the research into his 13th Ore and its effects from having been seeded on this particular world.

So much potential.

"You can lower your weapon now. I'm here, aren't I?" Starscream said. Shockwave regarded him momentarily before lowering his arm cannon. He had complied. There was no logic in wasting any kind of valuable Decepticon resources at this juncture. Whatever Starscream's other detriments, there could be no denying his efficacy in combat situations.

"Good. Well, I have a battle to win," Starscream said with a grin as he started to walk away before opening a Priority-1 channel to all Decepticons. >>"Aerial forces, converge on-"<<

Starscream's mouth opened slightly wider as he realized that, apart from the fiery vortexes that were present around the location that the Fallen had surely chosen for his encampment, the ground itself seemed to be under his influence as a terrestrial dust storm was kicking up the likes of which even Shockwave had not encountered before. Artificial manipulations were a statistical certainty.

"Declarative: when you fly in to that, you will find yourself grounded quickly. Another approach would be advisable," Shockwave stated. Starscream wheeled around to face him.

"Thank you for that brilliant, strategic insight Shockwave. I'll be sure to incorporate it," Starscream hissed, before turning back and kicking off into the air before transforming into his jet mode and rocketing away further into the sky, obviously taking pains to avoid the sand storm just as Shockwave had recommended. Shockwave began gathering and compartmentalizing all of the various energy readings that were coming in as he slowly advanced his own position, choosing to stay grounded for the time being until strategic necessity dictated otherwise.
___

Astrotrain had done his level best to find some kind of point of entry to ground himself on the top of Ayer's Rock and dispatch the small Vehicon assault group he carried within his cargo hold, but the firestorms had all but prevented that. It then looked like he might have a chance and he started to arc back around when his sensors began to register tens, then hundreds, then thousands of tiny disturbances clogging up his internal mechanisms all in the space of astroseconds.

"Grrrrrrrrrrrahhhh!" Astrotrain growled out as he tried to maintain some kind of altitude and direction, to get somewhere--anywhere--near the top of the rock, but nature was having none of it and one by one his internal flight systems were getting jammed up and shutting down.

>>"Going down!"<< he commed out.
___

Australia - South of Ayers Rock

“That’s what I figured you’d say. Nevermind," the rallybot said, his voice conveying a kind of...Breakdown didn't know really...disappointment? Bleh. What did he care if an Autobot was disappointed in him? What did he want? Breakdown to come charging through a wall of fire tornadoes like frackin' Optimus Prime? Battle-damaged, weapon in hand, Matrix-exposed, ready to save his precious friend? Sorry. Wrong mech.

"Yeah...well...you shoulda," Breakdown grumbled, kinda frustrated that he really couldn't overcome his paranoia and help a little more, but Blurr looked like a plague on wheels. No way he was getting near that.

Australia - South of Ayers Rock

Prowl couldn’t help but snicker as he listened to Onslaught’s enraged response to his prior communique. A wide grin formed on the military strategist’s faceplate, a rarity for the notorious prick-bot that everyone loved to hate. Seems I struck a nerve receptor, the black and white mused internally, deciding not to respond to the Combaticon Commander and instead focus on what was more important at the present moment.

His grin quickly faded as Prowl received a non-verbal response from Wheeljack while at the same time witnessing the raw power of the Fallen delivered upon Sixshot. With a single punch the phase sixer was catapulted off the top of Ayers Rock and hurled into the crowd below, creating a deep crater in the desert floor. “Some ultimate weapon,” Prowl muttered to himself as he took aim and fired his acid pellet rifle on the Fallen’s position. It had no affect, of course. After all, if the legendary sixchanger could be downed in such an easy fashion, what could the rest of them possibly hope to do? It was all the more reason to initiate Magnus’ final solution sooner rather than later.

Then it happened. As Sixshot soared back into the sky for another attack on the fiery demigod, a massive sand storm erupted from the ground and quickly engulfed the area. The phase sixer was once again knocked out of the sky as the storm expanded rapidly. Prowl ducked down to avoid Sixshot from hitting him in the head as the star fighter struck the ground a good distance behind the black and white’s position. Sand, dirt and bits of rock struck the strategist’s frame as he quickly ducked back down into the trench he had been taking cover in. The situation had now gone from bad to much worse.

Hot Spot’s vocals then came across Prowl’s comm line, giving him a stasis update on the wounded as well as giving a suggestion on how best to circumvent this blinding storm. The military strategist rolled his optics at the idea of drilling underneath the rock formation as doing so would take too long and waste too many resources.

>>”I read you Hot Spot. I’m afraid that digging under the mountain won’t be feasible in this situation. Magnus has another plan, however. Just focus on your task and continue doing what you can to help the injured.”<<

Prowl then cut his comm line and returned his attention to the downed phase sixer. The black and white peeked up out of the trench, looking further south to where Sixshot had likely crash landed. It was hard to see him through the storm, but the sixchanger was there. Now was his chance to gather whatever data he could on the STAG. Prowl had long desired to learn the secrets of the Decepticons’ notorious phase sixers and what exactly made them so powerful and more dangerous than most other mechs. Sixshot, Overlord, the Autobots had nothing like them. There was Omega Supreme, of course, but he was enormous and used up a lot of energon. However, if the Autobots could somehow create their own phase sixers, then that would even the playing field considerably.

Pulling a small, hand sized probe out of subspace storage, Prowl activated the device and programmed it to scan Sixshot while the STAG was down and assimilate as much information about him as possible. There wouldn’t likely be another chance such as this for the foreseeable future, if ever. So the black and white needed to take advantage of the situation while he could regardless if Sixshot was currently damaged. It was better than nothing at all. But, even if a considerable amount of data was procured here, the Autobots were still a long way from succeeding in making their own phase-sixer type of bot. Still, it didn’t hurt to gather the intel for future analysis.

Releasing the small probe, Prowl watched as it hovered low to the ground before disappearing from sight. It eventually made it to the crashed sixchanger and immediately began transmitting information back to the military strategist. “Perfect,” Prowl muttered as he ducked back down into the trench just as another communication from Wheeljack came over his comm line.
_________

>>”Ultra Magnus, Prowl, this is Wheeljack. I’m having a problem locking on to the designated signatures. The sand storm, or whatever’s going on down there, is interfering with the bounce sensors. Ayers Rock appears to be in the eye of the storm, but you need to tell the others to get clear of the disturbance so that I may get a secured lock on them. Otherwise, I can't bounce anyone to the mountain. Do you read me? Magnus, Prowl, can you hear me?!”<<
_________

“Of course,” Prowl grumbled aloud, slamming his fist into the side of the trench in frustration. Letting out a sigh, the strategist opened a return channel to the mechanical engineer: >>”Yes, I can hear you, Wheeljack. I will notify the others. Once you are able to lock on, bounce them to Ayers Rock. Until then, stay where you are.”<<

Prowl then opened another comm line to Ultra Magnus:

>>”Commander Magnus, I assume you've received Wheeljack's message regarding the storm's interference? Sir, given what the Fallen easily did to Sixshot, I feel that there’s less than an 8% chance of any of us being successful at defeating him once we are on Ayers Rock. I must again strongly recommend that you initiate your final solution option sooner rather than later. By my calculations, the chances of success go up to over 70%. It's certainly not a guarantee, but they are much better odds than what we are currently facing. I can order Wheeljack to bounce our troops to safety first. Just give me the word and it will be done.”<<

Of course, Prowl had no intention of bouncing the Decepticon forces to safety, as well. Let them all burn within the nearest star right alongside the Fallen. Kill two birds with one stone as the humans would say. Whether Magnus finally agreed to his final solution at this point was another matter entirely.

((OOC: More to come.))

Transmission from Red Alert to Ultra Magnus

>>Ultra Magnus, this is Red Alert. As the Autobot's security director, I feel that I need to know the 'secret' mission that Wheeljack has been assigned. There was one assigned to him, correct?"<<

Australia - East of Ayers Rock

“Lobo?” Howlstrike growled at the name Blindside had just called him. “What the frag is a lobo?” The former Predacon kept his hand extended, waiting for the sightless mech to take it. “Vee’s not the only one who’ll kill you if you ever call me lobo again.” Howl chuckled slightly, keeping a serious look on his damaged visage. Meanwhile, Blindside finally grabbed a hold of the hunter’s hand and slowly got to his feet. As the tactician put the majority of his weight onto Howlstrike, he commented on the wolf-former's own injuries. “I’ll be fine. Just need a recharge and a patch job on this shoulder. Everything else will work itself out. I’m tough that way. heh.”

Holding on to Blindside with his right arm, the tracker helped the disabled bot limp slowly towards the Longevity. It would be a very long trek for them, especially considering that the tactician decided to engage in small talk. The subject of changing the sightless mech’s alternate mode came up again. A bat was a good suggestion since from what Howlstrike had heard they were mostly blind in the dark and used some kind of organic radar to see. “A bat would be good. Fits you will, Blindy,” Howl commented as he continued to listen to Blindside’s babbling. “And, yes, I can fly in robot mode. A Decepticon trait I decided to keep a hold of. I just don’t do it very often unless I have to. Makes the other ‘Bots uneasy since most of ‘em can’t. Don’t need to remind them what I used to be.” The former Predacon then glanced over at Blindside and grinned. “So, you’re stupid. Glad you could finally admit that. Haha.”

An open transmission then came across both of their comm lines. It was from Hound. Apparently, the Autobot nurse called Veneer had possibly been killed by Darkride in the very shuttle they were currently en route to. Howlstrike had an inkling that Veneer and Blindside were friends, but he did not realize just how close they were until he saw the sightless mech’s reaction to the news of the nurse’s “demise”.

“Wait, where are you going, Blindside?! You can’t walk on that leg!” Howlstrike called out to the enraged tactician as Blindside jerked away from the hunter’s grip and started running, more like hobbling, towards the Longevity. Howl gave chase, but he did not overexert himself. If the disabled Autobot wanted to damage his body further for the sake of some dead nurse then that was his business. What did the former Predacon care?

“Crazy fragger,” Howlstrike muttered under his breath as he continued onward, watching Blindside continuously trip and fall down only to immediately force himself back up, clearly injuring his leg even more. A solid trail of energon had been left in his wake, one that the hunter could most easily follow if he hadn’t been able to see the tactician with his own two optics. “You know you won’t be able to help him if you’re dead, Blindy!”

Howlstrike’s words of wisdom apparently fell on deaf audios as once again Blindside tried to stand, letting out a loud roar of agony in the process. The disabled mech’s hobble was barely even that now, allowing the former Predacon to catch up to him. “WAIT!” Howl shouted as he grabbed a hold of the upset tactician. They were very close to the shuttle now with no one in sight nearby. “Make me chase you across this Primus forsaken desert! Are you crazy as well as blind?! Darkride could still be in there and we have no more syringes.” The hunter let out a heavy sigh before glaring back at the sightless bot. “Look, we go in there together. Got it?”

Not waiting for a response from Blindside, Howlstrike once again took hold of the disabled mech and helped him over towards the Longevity. Once they were there, the hunter quickly realized that Blindside’s damaged leg would make it almost impossible for him to ascend the ramp even with help. “Hold on,” Howl said before bending down and picking up the tactician in his arms, which placed a strain on the tracker’s already damaged left shoulder. “And if you tell anyone I carried you like a protoform I’ll put you out of your misery, myself. Got it?” With that firmly said, Howlstrike walked up the ramp with Blindside in his arms and entered into the shuttle.

Australia - Inside Autobot Shuttle Longevity

Once inside, Howlstrike placed Blindside down near a bulkhead so the tactician could hold himself up. “Stay here for a moment while I take a look around. Don't move!” The wolf-former then turned and transformed into his lupine alt mode, carefully sniffing around the main cabin with his impeccable sense of smell. There was no sign of Hound or Darkride nor where either of their scents anywhere to be detected. If they were on board Howl would almost certainly pick them up. However, while their scents were no where to be found there was another smell that was overwhelming to the tracker’s olfactory sensors.

Following the aroma into the combat casualty care unit, the mechanical timber wolf poked around until he came to a sight of sheer carnage. His optics widening, Howlstrike transformed back into his robot mode and took a few steps back. As a Predacon he had seen some pretty horrific sights, but this was one for the record logs as far as he was concerned. Spinal strut ripped out, cranial unit crushed into a messy pulp. If he had been a normal Autobot, Howl would’ve likely purged his tanks. As it were, the hunter kept it together and quickly returned to the main cabin.

“No signs of Darkride or Hound, but I found Veneer,” Howlstrike said as he approached Blindside, placing a firm grip on both shoulders. “At least I think it’s him. But you don’t want to go in there. Take my word for it, Blindy. You just....don’t. It’s too late anyway. There’s nothing you can do.“ Howl fully expected Blindside to ignore him and try to enter the casualty care unit, anyway. The tracker would ultimately not stop him if he really wanted to go in. Perhaps Blindside’s disability would shield him from the full horrific nature of Darkride’s atrocity. For the tactician's sake, the hunter hoped that would be the case.

Uluru – East of Ayer's Rock

When Howlstrike caught up to him, Blindside could barely hear him. He only realized that his friend was there because something was holding him back that wasn't his own body. Finally, the roaring in his audios subsided a bit as Blindside began to listen to Howlstrike speak. He was angry at Blindside. Probably deserved and he had a point about Darkride. Blindside nodded in response to Howlstrike and continued to hobble toward the Longevity assisted by his friend. Once they were there, a new obstacle presented itself: the ramp.

“Hold on," Howl said before picking up the tactician in his arms, which placed a strain on the tracker’s already damaged left shoulder. “And if you tell anyone I carried you like a protoform I’ll put you out of your misery, myself. Got it?"

Uluru – Inside Autobot Shuttle Longevity

If Blindside wasn't consumed by worry for Veneer and in agonizing pain, he would've cracked a smile at that remark. That not being the case, Blindside just went along with Howlstrike compliantly, leaning heavily on the bulkhead when the former predacon set him down.

“Stay here for a moment while I take a look around. Don't move!"

Blindside nodded, but still took a moment to look around fretfully. Where was Vee? Where was he? Slaggit. Not in this room. Blindside wasn't picking him up on his sonar. The tactician was tempted to continue the search on his own, but Howlstrike would probably put him into stasis for it. So he waited. After what seemed like forever, Howlstrike returned.

“No signs of Darkride or Hound, but I found Veneer," Howlstrike said as he approached Blindside, placing a firm grip on both shoulders. “At least I think it’s him. But you don’t want to go in there. Take my word for it, Blindy. You just....don’t. It’s too late anyway. There’s nothing you can do."

Blindside sagged slightly against the bulkhead at the news. He had expected it, but had dearly hoped...But now it was over. Veneer was gone. Gone. Anguish consumed him.

”Again...it's happened again...”

Blindside put a hand to his forehead and took a long moment. Processing his emotions. After a moment or two had passed, Blindside pushed on the bulkhead to stand up erect again. He needed to see it. Howlstrike probably already knew that he did. Blindside reached out and used Howlstrike to make the transfer to leaning against the wall and shuffling along like that. He scuttled across until he reached the threshold of the casualty care unit and the sight that lay with.

There was Veneer. He knew. It was unmistakable who that was. Blindside would've recognized even the smallest fragment of him. In some ways, his specific type of 'sight' allowed him to appreciate the carnage in ways that those without his disability would never understand. He saw the messy pulp of a cranial unit. Every crack, every dented, smashed surface, every exposed internal mechanism standing out brilliantly. The pool of energon on the floor. And the spinal strut sitting in it. Frayed wired, broken components. That gaping wound on Veneer's back.

Blindside took it all in impassively. The sight was among some of the worst carnage that he had ever seen. It would make almost any Autobot purge their tanks. Not him. No. Blindside clenched his hand into a fist as a very cold feeling overcame the tactician. The mental anguish faded.

“Howlstrike,” Blindside said finally. “I'm going to find Darkride. And when I do, I'm going to end his miserable, pathetic life. Will you help me?”

Blindside looked back at the hunter as he asked for his now only friend's help. The expression on his faceplate wasn't angry, or bitter, or even full of hatred. Just cold and impassive.

Australia – Uluru

Hex’s grip was firm, tight almost crushing. What little fighting Rewind had attempted amounted to nothing. Punching and clawing it made no difference.

“Chromedome!" Rewind cried.

The cry from the tiny archivist brought a small satisfied smile to Hex’s face. This would be easy. Kill the little one and the larger one will likely follow due to his involved feelings. Simple as that.

Hex pressed his lip plates close to Rewind’s audials. “I hope you’re filming this...”

"Don't you dare hurt him!"

The herald kept in close to Rewind but glanced in Chromedome’s direction when the mnemosurgeon came forward. The look on his face was priceless. And then the weapon came up. The maneuver was laughable. He could kill the little cretin in his arms and still have plenty of time to advance on his worried friend.

Hex lifted Rewind just a bit, just to make sure it was him in the line of fire and not Hex.

"Please Hex..." Chromedome pleaded, "W-We can help you...Jus-Just don't hurt them..."

A frown formed on Hex’s face as he pulled away from his hostage. He took a quick glance in Axle’s direction. The medic was still recovering from his attack but he still had the presence of mind to stare into his ward’s optics. Pleading silently for him to listen.

“Please. Please! Please.” Hex groused as he placed his free hand on Rewind’s shoulder tilting the little mech slightly on one side. “Begging, pleading for your pathetic lives. It’s all you worthless creatures seem to do.” He looked to Axle. “There is no stay of execution…” his gaze moved to Chromedome, “…none shall survive the genocide.”

As proof of his statement Hex flashed Chromedome a demonic grin as he gripped Rewind firmly by his shoulder with one hand and slowly pulled in the opposite direction on his neck with the other. The resulting sound of tearing and popping wires, groaning of metal bands a light hiss of hoses filled the near silent area.

“NOOOOOOO!” Axle cried out. He tried to crawl closer but the shock had him falling to the ground instead of moving forward.

The smile on Hex’s face remained firmly in place as he finished removing Rewind’s head. And without a word let the body and cranium fall to the ground at his feet.

((OOC: Beheading done at Foxfire’s request. Muwahahaha! Stay tuned…more to come!))

Australia – Uluru

First Aid watched as Ratchet took off at a sprint and then quickly converted to his alt mode. The Protectobot noticed with some sense of dread at how difficult it was for the CMO to traverse the sand, but Ratchet was undeterred and he was making good time.

Now with his mentor’s form fading in the distance Aid turned around to attend the last patient he had waiting. A simple repair and he got right on it.

While going through the motions he opened a comm-line with Veneer. He sure could use the nurse’s help right about now.

>>”Hey, Vee. Aid here. Ratchet’s en-route to tend to Blurr and Smokey. I really could use a hand out here. Vee? Do you read me?”<<

Aid straightened up and looked in the direction of the Longevity. He could just make out the its outline from where he was standing. Growing concerned he tapped the side of his helm hoping that perhaps there was a small glitch. No luck. His radio was working fine. Which meant…

>>“I need help over here! Darkride’s in the Longevity!! I think he’s killed Veneer!! Help!! Help me!!!"<<

The sound of Hound’s panicked voice yelling over the radio gave First Aid pause. He had to take a moment to replay the message in order to fully absorb what was being said. “No. Oh no.” He whispered. His hand slackened letting the welder slip from his hand. His patient sat up worried since he also received the message.

First Aid glanced back at the wounded bot who only nodded.

>>”Ratchet…”<<

He didn’t need to finish Ratchet was already ahead of him.

>>”Go First Aid!”<<

Consent given First Aid took off at a full run toward the shuttle. When he arrived he drew his weapon unsure whether Veneer’s attack was still on board.

Slowly and carefully he crept through the ship making his way towards the hold. He noticed a small trail of energon but it didn’t seem like too much. He paused for a moment when he heard voices. Voices he recognized.

Relieved that the voices belonged to Howlstrike and Blindside….Oh slag. Blindside. First Aid put his gun away and quickly moved around the corner. He needed to see the body. “I need you two to back up. I’m going to need some space.”

The sight was hellish. Energon and other fluids splattered about the cabin. Parts and pieces speckled the flooring. And Veneer, what was left didn’t look much like a mech at all. First Aid stopped beside the body nearly slipping in the pool on the right side.

“Oh, Vee. I’m sorry.” First Aid breathed.

He placed his hand gently on the nurse’s shoulder as he activated the scanner on his wrist. In short even movements he ran the device over Veneer’s inert form. One low beep and he stopped. Maybe he heard wrong. Aid ran the scanner over him again…another low beep.

“Oh dear Primus. He’s still alive!”

First Aid scambled to put the scanner away and got to work on the gaping hole in Veneer’s back. He’d need to stop the bleeding before he could turn the nurse over and check his cranium. As he rushed to begin First Aid looked up to the two other Autobots present. “He’s alive, barely. I need you two to help me.”

((OOC: permission for the actions of this post were granted by ember))

Australia - Uluru

And in the blink of an optic, Chromedome's spark was crushed. In one false swipe, Hex decapitated the tiny black and white archivist and absolute dread befell over Chromedome as he could only sit back and watch his conjunx endura's head get forcefully removed from his shoulders.

"NOOOO!!!" Chromedome cried out, extending his arm out in an ill-fated attempt to reach out to Rewind one last time. Rewind's processor fell from Hex's hand while his body followed shortly afterwards. "REWIND!!!" Gasped the mnemosurgeon as he still couldn't believe what his optics were seeing. Chromedome fell to his knees after his leg servos grew too weak from the grief, dropping his laser pistol into the sand beside him. How could he have done this... How could he have let this happened? Rewind was right... He was foolishly brave, and because of it he lost more than a best friend.

"Why... I-I should have listened... We should have stayed on the Ark... Then n-none of this would have happened..." Chromedome muttered outloud as he slowly and weakly crawled closer to the offlined archivist, each step closer creating a bigger hole in his spark chamber. Finally his chassis couldn't take it anymore and he dropped his processor into his actuators, hiding his faceplate in his palms as he was stricken with immense grief. He couldn't bare to look at the mess he had created upon himself any longer...

"Rewind..."

...

"You...you're gonna pAY FOR THIS HEEXXX!!!!" Chromedome bursted outloud as a newfound anger took over all rational thought. He stumbled out off of his crouching position, but managed to overcome it and began sprinting full pace at the Herald of chaos, wrapping his arms around Hex and bringing him down in a full tackle. Once both mechs were knocked prone, Chromedome lifted his needle-drawn hand into the air before turning his hand downwards and driving his mnemosurgery appendages deep into Hex's main fuel line running along his neck, injecting the sedative straight into the fuel lines. Once the syringe vial in his forewarn was drained, Chromedome retracted his needles back into their storage space before his rage took I've the rest of the situation, both his hands curled up into tightly-bound fists.

"YOU FRAKKING, SPAWN OF A GLITCH!!" Screamed the mnemosurgeon as he drove his right hook across Hex's faceplate shortly before a quick left hook caught up with his other fist and slammed Hex's faceplate into the opposite direction. His frustration getting the better of him, Chromedome grabbed hold of Hex's neck with both hands and attempted to squeeze his fuel lines into bursting. He dug his fingers into the wiring and tubing of the downed Heralds neck, hoping his strength would be enough to rupture something important in this murder's neck.

"YOU TOOK SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT AWAY FROM ME!!" Chromedome continued to scream as he continued driving all his strength into crushing Hex's neck, "AND NOW YOU'RE GONNA FEEL A PAIN FAR WORSE THEN DEATH!!" Chromedome brought his left hand up again, this time his fist I clenched and his mnemosurgery needles extended back out from his fingertips. He pulled his arm back up behind his head while his targeting systems coordinated the easiest points of entry for each of his 5 needles, a couple each designated to enter through the eye-sockets.

"You're gonna pay for what you've done here today!"

Australia – Uluru

Everything moved at half speed. Rewind’s body and head hitting the sand took a vorn. The energon that trickled from the gap in the neck took ages to pool. Even the reactions of Chromedome and Axle. They were both looked sluggish and haggard.

The sadistic grin that had been on Hex’s face melted into a wry grin. He expected a profound reaction and he was ready for it.

Or so he thought.

The sheer rage with which fueled Chromedome made Hex take half a step back. But then he braced himself for the incoming impact.

Chromedome got to his feet and charged catching Hex around the waist. Both mechs went down, Hex below while Chromedome pinned him from above with his body. Hex struggled, snarling he tried to scratch at the Autobot’s back.

The sight of the mnemosurgeon’s needles made Hex buck up. “NO! Don’t!” He jerked his head but he was caught with his neck in full view. “UGH! GAHHH!” Hex bucked again as the needles were pressed deep into the main energon lines running along his neck. The sedative ran through his lines like liquid fire. His struggling began anew but he quickly realized that he was growing tired. His limbs felt heavy and he was having a difficult time thinking and processing data.

"YOU FRAKKING, SPAWN OF A GLITCH!!"

Hex’s optics widened as he watched Chromedome pull his arm back and send a right hook across his face. His head jerked but before he could gather his bearings he was hit by a left hook.

Processor whirring from a mixture of the sedative and the hits to his face Hex wasn’t ready when he felt the hands of the mnemosurgeon grip his neck. Instinctively Hex brought his hands up to pull at Chromedome’s wrists but he was growing weaker, and more tired by the minute.

"YOU TOOK SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT AWAY FROM ME!!"

The Herald opened his mouth to say something but wasn’t able to vocalize due to the tight constriction.

"AND NOW YOU'RE GONNA FEEL A PAIN FAR WORSE THEN DEATH!!"

He met Chomedome’s optics and smiled.

The sedative ran quickly through his systems and soon Hex’s optics were growing dimmer. His strength felt zapped and his body felt as if it were going lax. The tension cables and joints in his body began to relax as his body began to give in to the drug.

He couldn’t even react to Chromedome’s final act of reprisal. Instead his smile widened for a moment before it melted completely away and he slipped into unconsciousness.

Axle was on his feet only half a second after Chromedome. Everything happened so fast he wasn’t sure if it was real.

The medic watched while the mnemosurgeon injected the drug into Hex’s main energon line, but he didn’t stop there. Chromedome was set on killing Hex.

Axle rushed in behind the enraged mech. He yelled out but Chromedome didn’t hear any of it. And then he saw it. His only opportunity. With his arm in the air ready to plunge those five needles into Hex Axle grabbed Chromedome’s arm and jerked it backwards. Hopefully the sharp pain that followed would get his attention.

“CHROMEDOME! Stop!” Axle tugged again on his arm. With Hex out cold he wouldn’t have to worry about him getting away. He could focus on Rewind, but he’d need to ensure Chromedome was with him.

“Chromedome listen to me. I think I can save Rewind, but I need your help! Please!” Axle gestured toward the body and cranium of the little archivist. “Help me help him!”

Australia - Uluru

Skydive watched as Slingshot got boarded by Nova Strike and used as a personal craft. This strengthens his idea the Aerialbots needed more training in several different maneuvers. As he watched Nova Strike go completely crazy almost Wrecker style, Skydive then realized if no one caught him Nova Strike might get one last hit on the Fallen but with his own body. Skydive would have shook his head if he was in robot mode at the idiocy of the ground pounder. Instead of letting a fellow Autobot plummet to his own death by his own insane idea, Skydive dove down and tried to catch Nova Strike. The decent was to quick and with everything around them happening, Skydive couldn't get below him properly. So he instead partially transformed and grabbed Nova Strike around the ankles with his hands.

>>Fireflight, I'm going to need your help here. This isn't the best situation and shows we severally lack in our training but of course you rarely see a nutcase commandeer one of us and use us as his personal craft. We don't want to lose a mech unless we have little choice.<<

Fireflight was lost in watching the fire tornadoes and keeping tabs on the fight below them between Sixshot and the Fallen as well as the positioning of Razorclaw and other Cons. He then noticed the incident Skydive referred to and quickly met up with Skydive. Thanks to the slightly slower decent and awkward angle, Fireflight got underneath Nova Strike which allowed Skydive to drop the mech onto Fireflight. Then Skydive and Fireflight got the message from Silverbolt and barely was able to pinpoint where their leader was at.

>>"Aerialbots, form up on me. We need to rethink our strategy."<< Silverbolt called over his comm line to his teammates while trying to ignore his increasing altitude.

>>Silverbolt, we will meet you there as soon as we drop off a wannabe pilot of Slingshot. Nova Strike decided he wanted to ride Slingshot as his own personal craft and then jump off to be almost suicidal with a lone shot. I and Fireflight had to save his chassis from becoming a stain on this planet.<<

As Skydive and Fireflight was trying to rejoin their squad leader, they noticed the sandstorm blowing away from them. Both of them pushed their limits and was able to barely climb over the wall of sand. However, due to the extra weight of Nova Strike, Fireflight went into a sharp nose dive which turned into a corkscrew. Skydive couldn't do a thing but watch since he was having troubles as well with sand and rocks hitting his engines and intake valves. He was able to keep control better but was also low to the ground.

__________________________________-

Hot Spot heard Prowl's response and was relieved there was another plan. Digging probably would have taken longer but at the current moment it seemed to be the only option. After thinking about it for a few moments, Hot Spot realized things in orbit must have been fixed to where they bounce back. This did give them a few more options but how many would be practical. It also took a nanoclick to realize Prowl had given his team permission to become primary rescue team.

>>Streetwise, we need to disengage the fight. We aren't doing much outside of wasting our resources. Instead we need to get to saving the lives we can and help out Ratchet and First Aid with the injuries. We may not have their extensive training but still can mend the minor stuff. Meet me at these coordinates.<<

Hot Spot transformed and rolled away to the new location. As he went, he got pelted by the new attack the Fallen have thrown at them in the form of the sandstorm. This would bother him but it reminded Hot Spot of the desert location his team was at before the fight. Hot Spot shut as many crevices he could to protect himself from the granules.

>>Blades, once you are done doing whatever you are, meet me at these coordinates. We've got search and rescue now since First Aid and Ratchet are going to be quickly overwhelmed. Groove will continue in assisting First Aid and hopefully providing any cover fire if needed.<<

________________________ ___________________________

Octane watched the shuttles and noticed Darkride come out and attack Skywarp. Before Octane could do anything, Skywarp did his teleportation move on Darkride. As much as Octane wanted to join in on the fight the sight was entertaining. Only a few nanoclicks after the incident, Octane saw the familiar beam of a bounce. It seemed some more troops decided to join in on the fun. Once they materialized, Octane was glad to see who it was but for different purposes.

"The coward Starscream finally showed up in order to get himself slagged while trying to steal the show and glory. Time to see how long he will last before he decides to beam back up to lick his wounds. As for Commander Shockwave, maybe he will be able to help me get into the fight."

>>Commander Shockwave, can you find it in your grand strategy to allow me to join the fight? Onslaught believes I would better serve the Decepticons back here as an emergency fueling depot but no one has bothered to come up to me begging for energon. I want in on the fight. I will warn you, Darkride is one of the heralds and he along with Skywarp were around the Autobot shuttles until Warpy teleported them somewhere.<<


Battletrap saw what the Combaticon leader did and tried to follow suit. He flew up along them slowly but was very uneasy getting close to the fire tornadoes again. As he got closer a sandstorm showed up. The buffeting he took forced him to land only a few meters from where he took off.

>>Shadowing, I hope Commander Shockwave know how to defeat two walls. First fire and now sand. Not sure if getting through is going to work. I think Fallen hiding because coward.<<

Uluru – Atop Ayer's Rock

>>"And pray tell how I am going create a slaggin' vacuum? Or use up the oxygen around them without burning the whole atmosphere of the planet?"<< Motormaster grumbled in response to Flamewar. >>"Unless you didn't notice, I was never Academy material kind of bot."<<

>>”Make a forcefield around one until it eats all the oxygen. Or sustained bombardment,”<< Flamewar suggested dryly as she kept her optics locked onto the Fallen. She glanced back and gave Wipe-Out and Warwolf both a rather annoyed look as she heard them creep up beside her. >>”I don't know, Motormaster! It's supernatural fire! Fallen fire, dammit!”<<

Flamewar turned her attention back to the Fallen when yet another communication buzzed in her audios. This one from Krunix.

>>”Sorry, Flamewar. I experienced...a troop surge from the Fallen. What's your location?”<<

>>”I'm on top of Ayer's Rock. Stay with Motormaster. Help him. See if you can find a way to get up here,”<< was her curt reply before Flamewar shut off the comm link.

And then a transmission from Wipe-Out. Who was right beside her.

>>”Hey guys. So...what's the plan up here? We waiting for Sixshot to take a chance before we do? Because, and I just want to be honest here, I don't think that the three of us could take Sixshot, so, you know, if the Transitive property is to be believed... “

>>”The plan is to wait for an opening. I'm going to shoot the Fallen with this bolt,”<< Flamewar said, indicating with a nod the bolt resting on her fusion crossbow, >>”It's loaded with a canister of cosmic rust. Demigod though he claims to be, his body is still Cybertronian. This should work. Now shut up so I can concentrate.”<<

With a stifled sigh, Flamewar lined up the sight on the Fallen again, taking care to avoid the Phase Sixer. Fortunately, it seemed like both were rather content to just stand there for a little while. Of course, something else had to come up, though this time, it was less of a distraction and more demanding of her attention. Razorclaw had approached her.

“Stand down, Flamewar," the Predacon lord growled in a low tone so that only the Decepticon femme could hear him. “Allow Sixshot a chance to take down the Fallen. Any interference on your part now may inhibit his success. If he is defeated, then we will make our move against the demigod. Understood?"

Flamewar withdrew her fusion crossbow and nodded to the current Supreme Commander, laying low in the trench. Razorclaw soon settled in next to her. She glanced at him for a moment with a curious expression on her faceplate. He seemed content to wait for an opportunity to strike. His famed hunter's patience. Admirable in some aspects. Hindering in others. Flamewar held her crossbow tightly in her hands regardless.

“This arrow is laced with cosmic rust,” Flamewar said lowly, supposing the Supreme Commander might want some insight into her current plan, “The Fallen though he might be, that's still a Cybertronian body.” Flamewar fell into silence, knowing that she did not need to spell it all out for Razorclaw.

When all had finally gone relatively quiet, except for the open comm channel chatter, Flamewar fully focused on Sixshot and the Fallen. She watched incredulously as Sixshot openly taunted the Fallen. Primus, that was an ego on that guy. Rightfully so she supposed, but still..an attitude like that only came back to bite-

Oh look. There was Sixshot. Sailing off into the distance thanks to a punch delivered personally by the Fallen. One punch. She watched as he crashed landed in the distance, his surely devastating landing only marked by a small puff of sand from where she crouched. Suddenly, her view of the phase sixer was obscured by sand. Lots of it. A sandstorm. She did, however, manage to catch a glimpse of the phase sixer spiraling hopelessly out of control back down into the cloud of sand. Hm.

Flamewar immediately looked back at the Fallen, who seemed distracted by something else at the moment. Something internal perhaps? Flamewar gripped her fusion crossbow and leveled it at the Fallen. This was her opportunity. The Supreme commander had told her to stand down until Sixshot had given the Fallen his best shot. Well, that had come and gone. She wanted to fire before the Predacons decided to pounce on their prey.

Flamewar lined up the shot, steeled herself. She aimed for the bulkiest part of the Fallen, his chest and torso. Yes...right...there. Now...Flamewar slowly squeezed the trigger of her crossbow. With a barely audible hiss, the bolt was away, carrying its payload of cosmic rust directly at the Fallen.

Connect, slaggit! Flamewar thought fiercely. If this didn't work, Flamewar didn't particularly relish their odds in a direct confrontation with the Fallen.

Uluru – South of Ayer's Rock

“I want you three to provide them with cover fire. Got it?"

Skids hadn't exactly been paying attention before Prowl had issued him and Getaway orders. Oh, and Chameleon too. So all he knew was that he had to shoot at the Fallen. Like they had been doing for the past forever or so, it felt like. Easy enough. Skids drew out his rocket launcher and stepped up beside his long-time friend and comrade Getaway. “Hey Getaway,” Skids said by way of greeting.

The theoretician knelt to brace himself and steady his aim. Where was the Fallen...ah! There. Wait. No. That was Sixshot. Grr. Fire vortex obscured his view. If the Decepticons were up there, Skids thought he probably shouldn't fire. But...well. He knew Prowl didn't care. So fire he did. A barrage of rockets sailed into the sky toward the Fallen when, suddenly, a giant sandstorm rose up out of nowhere. Skids kept firing into the sandy haze until his clip was empty.

While he reloaded, the theoretician looked over to the escapologist. “It's going to be rather difficult to provide cover fire if we can't see anything,” he commented. The sandstorm engulfed them. Sand found its way into what seemed like every internal mechanism, clogging his every orifice. “Slaggit,” Skids muttered as he spat out a bit of sand.

“What -ppffft- now -pfff- Geta-pff-way?”


When Blurr heard Smokey suggest to Breakdown to transfer energon to him, the blue speedster listened to Breakdown's refusal with a little disappointment, but, in the end, he figured it was for the best. He didn't want anyone else risking infection because of him. “It's...okay...Breakdown...gak! Thanksh...anyway...”

“Just take it easy, Blurr. Try to remain as calm as possible. The more frantic you get the faster your fuel pump with beat which will force the energon out of you all the faster," Smokescreen had said.

At least, Blurr thought that was what the rally bot had said. It was kinda hard to hear with your energon leaking from your audios though. “Working om et Mokey...” Blurr said slowly, slightly choking on his own energon as he spoke. Taking it slow had never been one of the speedster's fortes, but he was trying as hard as possible to bleed out slowly. If it was working, Blurr couldn't really tell. The energon leaking from his optics kinda made it hard to see. He did notice the vague shape of Smokescreen move away from his side slightly. His contaminated energon was already that far out? Well, if he was going to die, he sure as pit wasn't going to take anyone with him.

“Shtay...awaaay...ssshmokee...” Blurr garbled out.

“Okay, Blurr, Ratchet’s on his way. I just talked to him. He’ll be here very soon. Just try to stay calm and hold on a little longer. You can do it. I know you can."

“Too...late...shaaaave...gak! Kak...! Your...shelf....Get...away...” Blurr coughed out, unable to resist the urge to cough out huge globs of energon. After his coughing fit had passed, Blurr weakly waved Smokescreen away. He didn't want Smokey to contract the virus from him. Even if he did make it, Smokey might not with whatever injury he sustained from Drag Strip.

A sudden dulled howling in his audios made Blurr frown for a moment. What on Earth or Cybertron was that sound? And now it was darker than it had been before. He felt little bits of...of...something working their way into his internal mechanisms. They clumped in his energon and slightly slowed its flow. Of course, it was still pouring out of him. Just, you know. More slowly.

“What...?”

Australia - South of Ayers Rock

"I, uh...can this big gun do anything to it? Cause I have it."

Motormaster's massive hand palmed the handle of his cyclone gun in its vice like grip in response to the battlecharger's question in almost an futile attempt of repressing his anger and frustration and not exploding to violent action against other Decepticons near him. It was clear enough that the leader of the Stunticons was not experiencing any warm feelings towards the simpletons peppering him with obvious statements or questions certain inviduals should have been smart enough not to ask around him,"How about..."

"You pick up your optics from your tailpipe and make use of that gun!" Motormaster bellowed, pointing his own gun at the Fallen, "That there! Standing in the middle of it all is your target! Now is that clear enough or do I have to hold your slaggin' hand and aim your gun for you too?! That's the damn target! Now, you better go and try what that gun is worth for before I throw you in the middle of that rock myself!"

Luckily enough for Runabout, Motormaster's communication line began alerting for incoming transmission before the situation between them had a chance to escalate any further.

>>”I share your concerns, Motormaster. I am already beyond the tornadoes and climbing towards the summit of the mountain. However, the vortexes appear to be intensifying and thus moving between them may no longer be an option. As for the Thanatos, I have not heard anything from them as yet. I assume the Constructicons are still in the process of repairing the generators. Without full power, an orbital blast will not be possible. I will contact Scrapper shortly and demand an update. Until then confer with Ultra Magnus to see if he has any ideas regarding getting past the fire pillars."<<

>>"Just do warn me in advance if you order that orbital blast, eh?"<< Motormaster replied back to Razorclaw, not really having anything else to add at this point. Dealing with their Autobot allies was Razorclaw's headache and the Stunticon brute sought to keep it that way. Not that he had any time to slack either for Flamewar's reply to his earlier request came knocking next.

>>”Make a forcefield around one until it eats all the oxygen. Or sustained bombardment... I don't know, Motormaster! It's supernatural fire! Fallen fire, dammit!"<<

And before Flamewar even had a chance to finish her reply, Motormaster found himself dealing with simultaneous transmissions as Razorclaw contacted him again.

>>”I am at the top. Currently, I can see Sixshot confronting the Fallen. Perhaps this battle is near an end. I’m going to move in with my Predacons and get a better view. I will let you know if the six changer is successful. Stand by..."<<

Flamewar's advice however, wasn't exactly as useful Motormaster had hoped. >>"Sheesh. Some useful advice that wa- the slag?!"<<

The sight before his optics made Motormaster lose the control of his communications array for a moment, his next words going to both Razorclaw and Flamewar, >>"Did I just see Sixhot flying by?"<<

There weren't too many things that shut Motormaster up but seeing a phase sixer having his aft plate kicked like that had a certain shock factor to it. As powerful as Motormaster himself was, he'd have been cheating himself hard if he thought he'd be able to challenge Sixshot. And here, right here before his optics... the Fallen demonstrated a feat of strength Motormaster could maybe expect from a giant of a bot like Killmaster or Scorponok - if even from them.

As Motormaster's gaze turned back from Sixshot's impact zone towards the Fallen he witnesses the rise of a massive dust storm which ended up obscuring the whole Ayers Rock from his view. >>"Razorclaw, Flamewar. You were just swallowed by a dust storm. Anvil team lacks clear sight of your positions, we need telemetry data or we are shooting blind. And it appears that Shockwave and Starscream have entered the playing field."<<

Australia - Inside Autobot Shuttle Longevity

Howlstrike watched Blindside’s reaction to the news regarding Veneer’s apparent death. The disabled mech sagged slightly against the bulkhead while placing his hand up to his cranial unit. The former Predacon had expected the sightless Autobot to try and forcefully push by him in a state of shock and despair, but that did not happen. Instead, Blindside took several astroseconds to fully comprehend what the hunter had just told him. Howl remained quiet, keeping both clawed hands on the tactician’s shoulders just in case he suddenly went limp and collapsed.

That also did not happen. Once Blindside had taken the time that he required he pushed away from the bulkhead and used the nearby wall to stumble his way slowly towards the casualty care unit where the gore-drenched scene was waiting. Howlstrike did not try to stop him, but instead aided in the disabled mech’s transfer from the bulkhead to the wall. The tracker then followed closely to ensure his new friend did not trip and fall.

Finally reaching the threshold of the care unit, Blindside just stood there impassively while Howlstrike remained silently behind him. Yet again, the former Predacon was surprised by the sightless Autobot’s reaction or lack thereof. Perhaps it was his disability that prevented Blindside was fully seeing what Darkride had truly done to Veneer or maybe it was something else all together. Could it be that there was something darker within Blindside that no one knew about? Possibly, but who could be sure?

Howlstrike knew all about darkness. He had been a Predacon for a good long time before his defection, after all. The Decepticons’ elite squad of killers and hunters. Howl had done some pretty dark and evil things during the tracker’s tenure with them. It had all built up over time until it had finally become too much for the wolf-former to bare anymore. The order to execute an unarmed mech had been the last straw. Countless vorns ago Howl had been a Cybertronian that held honor above all else. His time with the Preds had eroded that honor. It was something he would never allow to happen again.

The former Predacon was then drawn from his thoughts when Blindside turned to look at him. The look on his faceplate was impassive, but the sightless mech’s words revealed everything Howlstrike needed to know. His friend’s request for vengeance was the one thing Howl had expected from the tactician that he had guessed right. “Of course, I’ll help you, Blindside,” the hunter responded, placing a clawed hand onto the disabled Autobot’s shoulder. “But we have to get repaired first. Fighting a herald in our present conditions will only lead to failure. A couple of breems in a CR chamber should do the trick.”

Howlstrike’s words were then interrupted by the arrival of First Aid, who quickly put his gun away as he round the corner. The former Predacon nodded as the medic asked them to back up and give him room. Howl tugged gently on Blindside’s arm to follow him as he took several steps back. First Aid had wasted no time and quickly scanned the body, running it across Veneer’s entire frame at least twice, registering a beep both times. I don’t know what he expects to find, the tracker thought to himself just as First Aid shouted that the nurse was still alive!

“You’re kidding?!” Howlstrike exclaimed, almost not believing what he had just heard. First Aid then reiterated that Veneer was, in fact, still functioning if only barely. The Protectobot also required both of their assistance if he was going to be successful in saving the Autobot nurse's spark. “Revenge will have to wait a bit longer, my friend,” Howl whispered into Blindside’s audio receptor before he then moved over and knelt down next to Veneer’s inert form. The hunter knew that the sightless tactician would want to stay and help the nurse before going out after Darkride. It was an obvious foregone conclusion.

The former Predacon watched closely as First Aid continued to work on fixing the gaping hole in Veneer’s back. “Just tell me what to do.”

Australia – Inside Autobot Shuttle Longevity

“Of course, I’ll help you, Blindside," Howlstrike had said, putting a clawed actuator onto his shoulder. Blindside smiled faintly at Howlstrike and nodded gratefully. He cringed a bit as his wounds reminded him that they were still, indeed, there as Howlstrike mentioned the CR chambers.

“Oh yes, I could go for a few breems in the CR chamber. Probably more really,” Blindside said with a chuckle. “Oh, by the way, lobo means wolf in some huma-” Blindside was abruptly cut off as First Aid interrupted and pushed his way past them. The tactician was all too happy to give the medic the berth he required, going along with Howlstrike as his friend tugged gently at his arm. He cringed a bit as the swifter motion aggravated his injuries.

“Easy, easy, Howl, it hurts to mo-”

“Oh dear Primus. He’s still alive!“

Blindside stopped dead in his tracks as Howlstrike voiced his own disbelief. Then First Aid said it again. Alive. Vee was...alive? But...he couldn't be...Blindside turned slowly, but he was already 'looking' back, scanning every inch of Veneer's frame as if looking at it could somehow yield evidence to back up First Aid's words. Vee needed his help.

“Revenge will have to wait a bit longer, my friend," Howl whispered into Blindside’s audio receptor before he then moved over and knelt down next to Veneer’s inert form. As Blindside turned to face the inert nurse, a confused and lost look fixed itself onto his faceplate. He turned his head slightly to look back to the shuttle's entrance reflexively as he 'looked' in that direction, then back at Veneer.

After a moment, the confused expression faded and was replaced with one of grim determination as he hobbled back to the door frame and leaned on it. He would have gone to Veneer's side, but if he had knelt, the tactician knew there would be nearly impossible to get up again.

“Wh...What can I do, Aid?”

Australia – Uluru

Taking it to a demi-god was never going to be easy. Neither was unshackling their comrades from the Fallen's enslavement. And neither was trying to make sense of the chaos populating the battlefield—really giving it to the combined forces of the 'Bots and 'Cons.

Having convinced himself that this fight, among all the fights he'd been in, topped his list for Craziest Battle Ever, Blades hunkered down behind the shattered corpse of a vehicon, his gaze alternating between Bluestreak and the results of the fancy powers the Fallen had used to stall their progress. “Fancy powers” wasn't an accurate term for describing the Fallen's abilities. In fact, it was wrong to say. But seriously, the slag happening out here danced along the lines of insanity.

First, the Fallen had raised an energy shield to envelop himself in, its resistance to damage thus far proving impervious to the assault being thrown against him.

Second, the host of vehicons the Decepticons had brought with them were now no more productive than scrap piled in a junkyard as they littered the combat zone, broken and in pieces, meaning the Fallen could focus on them. So much for that distraction. The demi-god's clever trick to hurl the vehicons back like it was no trouble at all warned of worse challenges to come.

Third, tornadoes, created by the Fallen and seemingly composed of fire, spun violently around Uluru, as if acting as sentinels and guarded their master, supplying another layer of defence to the invulnerable shield.

Fourth, a massive sandstorm appeared to be building near Ayers Rock—again thanks to the Fallen. Blades had noticed a slight reduction in visibility, the air slowly being clogged by granules and various other fine particles. Conditions would soon deteriorate. He didn't look forward to that.

None of those things were responsible for why Blades was crouched behind a dead vehicon, with Bluestreak laying next to him. He'd been transporting Bluestreak via his helicopter mode, flying to First Aid and Ratchet's position when Blast Off was...well, blasted out of the sky by the Fallen.

Blades had a pun for the Combaticon's misfortune, but he thought since he'd suffered enough, he would keep it to himself.

Anyway, Blast Off streaked through the sky at incredible speeds, yet the Fallen still clipped his wings. Blades flew at a modest speed compared to his arrogant friend. He also had Bluestreak to take care of, his injured comrade hanging from him but secured in a safety strap. Swinging like an erratic pendulum. Tempting prey for an all-powerful being who could probably kill you by clicking his digits together.

That was the reason.

Blades wasn't worried, though. Close to First Aid and Ratchet—flying to them before watching Blast Off get trashed had covered the majority of the distance—he decided to reach them on foot. Carrying Bluestreak wouldn't be difficult, particularly when he'd ferried plenty of mechanoids from peril in his service as a Protectobot, hoisting them to rest over his shoulder-plates and removing them from the field of danger.

His comm-link suddenly beeped and an icon flashed on his retinal display, the upper right side, followed by a name in white text.

>>“Blades, once you are done doing whatever you are, meet me at these co-ordinates. We've got search and rescue now since First Aid and Ratchet are going to be quickly overwhelmed. Groove will continue in assisting First Aid and hopefully providing any cover fire if needed.”<<

Been a while since he'd heard from Hot Spot, so the transmission came as no surprise.

Blades responded with haste. >>“Read you loud and clear, boss. Got my actuators full with Bluestreak at the moment, and I need to do something with that Combaticon, Blast Off. Did you see him go down? Truly classic stuff... But yeah, I'll be with you after that. Until then.”<<

He ended the transmission. He had work to do.

Blades turned to Bluestreak. “How you battling there, champ? Doing all right?” He grinned at the gunner. “Of course you are. Those wounds? They're minor. 'Aid or Ratchet will get you fixed up in no time at all.”

Squatting to scoop up Bluestreak, Blades carefully placed him over his shoulder-plates, wary of the damage he'd sustained. He didn't want to exasperate his pain.

“Let's get you repaired.”

With that, Blades threw one leg in front of the other, and walked to his destination.

Australia - North of Ayers Rock

It had taken some considerable time for Headstrong to climb atop of Uluru. Sure, he could have done it faster by flying to their destination in robot form like Onslaught and Brawl were doing but he had decided to follow Razorclaw's example. And when Headstrong decided to do something - well, one had a better chance of convincing a brick wall to get up and move than getting the stubborn Predacon to change his plans. There just was a slight problem of his alternate mode. Unlike the feline, agile forms of Razorclaw or Rampage, Headstrong's rhinoceros mode hardly allowed him to bounce up a steep hill with great speed.

But climb the hill he did, slowly and meticulously. And just in time to witness the massive straight by the Fallen sending the monstrous Sixshot careening off the top of the hill. A sight so rare made Headstrong to reach out to Razorclaw through his comm-link.

>>"Frag boss! This guy hits harder than Megatron himself! You've gotta a plan?!"<<