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Ayers Rock: Summit

If he had been equipped with optical cannons, two smoldering bore holes would have already manifested themselves in the lion crest plate of the Predacon commander. He held no more illusions that a change in leadership at the highest levels of the Decepticon Military would yield any such reforms necessary to bring this almost unending conflict to a peaceful resolution. "I had hoped you had been made of sterner stuff than your predecessor Razorclaw," the Autobot Commander spoke slowly, his voice barely concealing his calculating contempt for the primal reactionary.

He straightened is posture as his internal systems finally by passed a damaged internal hydraulic piston and reactivated several redundant supports. Quietly his strength levels began to climb as power was slowly transferred from his beam weapons to his limbs and integrity fields. "But, it would appear that no molds were broken after such a trial." His fingers curled at the throat of his hammer. The battle was over, he would not spark another... but if they harmed Prowl.

"The threat has only been temporarily neutralized anyways. The Fallen's spark will be destroyed by a means of our choosing. And before you allow it into your processor, I will honor that final portion of our initial agreement... The Fallen will be not be given the opportunity to rise again, not in this universe and not in our functional forecast." Magnus allowed his left hand to slowly raise up, palm open to show no weapon in order to sooth the volatile Motormaster and the rest of his goons. "Now finish your collection as we tend to our own."

Uluru – Top of Ayer's 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."<<

Ravage relaxed slightly at Soundwave's affirmation that he was well after having returned from the fiery demi-god's mind. And he had orders. The black cat slunk from shadow to shadow, stalking the Autobots as he made his way over to Soundwave. When he was near enough to his blue commander to be comfortable, Ravage settled down in the shadows and watched the Autobots.

His attention was diverted when Squawktalk noticed an abnormality in the boss's behavior. Ravage shifted his gaze from the cooperating Autobots to his superior, watching him intently. Somehow...Ravage sensed there was more to it, but he decided not to press the matter. They had more pressing issues at the moment.


Near Shuttle Longevity

Blaster had course corrected after getting over the initial jubilation of having defeated the Fallen. As the communications officer, he would be needed to monitor Autobot signals to make sure no one got left behind. The Longevity was equipped with a communications array that would let him do just that.

As he stepped into the shuttle, he passed Blindside and Howlstrike both of whom he waved to before proceeding onward into the shuttle. Blindside watched the crimson-colored Autobot pass before responding to Howl.

“You betcha, Howl,” the blind tactician said with a smirk. “Almost want one of them to be stupid enough to pick a fight...I need to blow off some steam.” Blindside stared out at the battlefield emptily, his sonar and radar only picking up so much. But he could see Howlstrike standing near him with his energo sword drawn. His friend. Friend. It was a surprisingly comforting thing.

Blindside drew out his own sword and began thinking of a way to pass the time. “Hm...Howl. What color are you? Am I still grey and blue? I never know if someone's given me a ridiculous paint job.”

Meanwhile, Blaster was scanning the surface of the planet for Autobot signals. More specifically, Australia. Most were either atop the rock or in one of the shuttles at this point. There were a couple stragglers but most of their life signs were pretty strong. Except for Hardhead. Blaster opened the comm frequency to all Autobots.

>>”Yo Autobots! We're packing up and no 'Bot gets left behind, so can someone grab Hardhead? He's on the eastern side of the Rock. Bring him aboard Longevity so the docs can patch him up.”<<

As Blaster kept scanning through the signals in Australia, he decided somewhat on a whim to expand his search to check on other Bots stationed on Earth. The ones in Peru looked alright. And-

Blaster froze. His optics became round disks. Not possible. Not even remotely possible. But...Blaster double checked. Yes...yes. There could be no doubt about it. ”By the Primes...It's...it's Prime...” he managed. Shock froze Blaster for a long moment. Abruptly, he came back to his senses. He had to tell- Wait. If Prime was back...he couldn't let Soundwave have the opportunity to listen in. But he had to tell Ultra Magnus. And Prowl too he supposed.

>>Magnus, Prowl!<< Blaster buzzed over the comms, >>”A situation...has developed. Priority one. We need to talk. In person. Immediately.”<<

Australia – Top of Ayer's Rock

A series of heavy thuds accompanied by clanking came finally to a short lived end as the Combaticon known as Brawl jumped down into the trench where he had seen Swindle to dive into sometime before the explosion of the spark extractor. The munitions specialist was still lying there but in what condition? That Brawl couldn't tell. Crouching down next to huckster he had learned to call both teammate and the biggest dipstick this side of the galaxy, the burly warrior prodded the smaller Decepticon's head with his fist.

CLANK.

“Still alive?!”

Another rough prod followed the first one. CLANK.

“This is no time for a nap! Get up!”

Still no answer. “Raaaah!”

The next action, all logical to Brawl at least – was to hoist Swindle high into the air and shake him violently to stir the other 'con up. “That wasn't even a proper bang! Wake up! The boss gave the fraggin' order!”

”Grraaaah! Say something before I get really mad!”

Australia--Ayer's Rock

With the time limit that Onslaught had set steadily diminishing and his own cargo hold creeping towards capacity, Astrotrain fired up his initial thrusters. Rumbles of activity shuddered through the shuttle's frame as he prepared for Onslaught or the new Supreme Commander himself to give the final order to launch and get off this mudball. At least for a while. He needed to have a long talk with Blitzwing and Octane. The little human stowaway that he had now effectively kidnapped was only one of the pressing concerns on his mind.

The next time he came down here, he was going to get something real rolling and not just be a pawn for one of Ramjet's crazy schemes. That certainly got them nowhere. But that did not mean that their opportunities had evaporated altogether.
___

After he had finished taking stock of their situation, Rampage had moved on without a word. Outside Astrotrain, the Predacon stood vigil, watching as the Autobots gathered their wounded. The traitor did not appear to be among them. He had survived. Utter suck.

Meh. You're ours, Howlie. Soon and very soon. Going to meet Primus with a gash in your chest the size of the Maw back home. Heh. Just wait.

The Fallen was gone, but there would be no peace. No peace until victory. Rampage trusted Razorclaw to deliver on that. And he was very sure that trust hadn't been misplaced.

Australia - Autobot Shuttle Longevity

From the entrance ramp of the shuttle craft, Howlstrike surveyed the battlefield or what was left of it at least. Every mech, both Autobot and Decepticon, were gathering up their wounded and withdrawing. There were no signs of any aggressions towards either the Longevity or the other, much smaller shuttle Serenity. That craft was small enough to fit inside the Ark-22’s shuttle bay while the Longevity was much too large for that and needed to dock alongside one of the bigger Autobot vessels, whether it be the Ark or the medical frigate, the later of which had now appeared over Ayers Rock. Bounce beams had been initiated in the distance, carrying some of the Autobots up to one of the ships while others remained on the surface for now. Soon they would all be gone from this hellhole.

“It seems no one will be picking a fight, Blindside,” Howlstrike stated plainly as Blaster moved by them and entered the Longevity. “From what I can tell, the cons are gathering in Astrotrain and some of our own forces have already bounced away. This battle is over.” The former Predacon glanced over at his new friend, one of only two he could say he had within the Autobot ranks, Kup being the only other. The disabled tactician then asked a strange question regarding what color Howl was and if Blindside was still grey and blue. Being unable to see, the tracker guessed it was an understandable query if not one designed to pass the time.

“I am mainly dark green and black now. I used to be orange, red and black when I was a Pred, but I changed my color scheme once I became a bot,” Howlstrike answered as he looked Blindside up and down before continuing. “And, yes, you are still grey and blue. No one has messed with you. Heh. That would be a funny prank to pull on someone, though.” Howl’s processor then began to wander as a creepy grin formed across his visage. “Yes, indeed it would. Come, Blindside. I’ve got an idea!”

Howlstrike then turned and entered the shuttle, making his way into the combat care unit. He avoided everyone else and quickly approached the row of CR chambers against the far wall. The hunter assumed Blindside was close behind him as he stopped in front of Bluestreak’s chamber and checked the progress of the chatterbot’s repair cycle. Howl was not very knowledgable when it came to technology, but he did know the basics of running a CR unit. He just didn’t know the more advanced features and settings.

“Wanna prank Bluestreak?” Howlstrike asked as he turned to face Blindside. “I want to change his color scheme to include some actual blue. A black and silver mech called Bluestreak is just plain silly and when I asked him about it back on Cybertron he kinda dodged the question saying that his colors changed when he changed, whatever that means.” Howl then returned his attention to the chatterbot’s CR settings. “Problem is I’m not sure how to access the color palette on one of these things. Can you help me, Blindy?” The former Predacon looked back at his friend once more. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Besides, ol’ Blue might actually like his new look. Heh.”

Australia - Inside Astrotrain

Blast-Off moved as fast as his legs could carry him across the scarred terrain where the battle against the Fallen and his supernatural minions had ended not a cycle ago. The landscape was damaged, possibly beyond repair. Even once all Cybertronian tech was recovered or destroyed, Uluru and the surrounding area would show the signs of an intense conflict for the foreseeable future. The humans would likely attribute it to the hellish sandstorm that had consumed the area for almost an entire day, but the Autobots and Decepticons that had partaken in the battle would know better. Conspiracy theories would probably make their way onto the human internet, but it would be just stories that most would simply write off as nonsense. Infiltration protocols would be adhered to and their secret war on this planet would remain a secret. For now.

Finally, the space warrior reached Astrotrain and entered through the side hatch of the triplechanger. Blast-Off quickly found Onslaught in the crowd and approached his commanding officer, giving him and maintaining the appropriate salute. “Blast-Off reporting for debriefing, sir! My apologies for missing the majority of the battle. I was struck by one of the Fallen’s dark energy bolts which knocked me out of the sky. Crashing from such a high altitude did even more damage that sent me in and out of stasis until my systems finally succumbed and shut down from the multitude of injuries.”

The space warrior kept his optics focused on his leader, his one hand still up in a saluting position, hoping that Onslaught would understand his absence from the fight. “I understand the Fallen has been neutralized, sir. Were there many other casualties from the fight? How did the rest of our unit fare while I was gone?”

Blast-Off tried to show genuine concern for his fellow Combaticons, even though his aloof attitude in the past would suggest otherwise. Of course, most cons did not know that his antisocial nature was only a front to disguise his true loneliness while soaring high above a battlefield away from his comrades. Not to mention, his superiority complex, whether fake or real, had taken a significant hit with his quick exit from the fight. After all, many of the others had lasted much much longer than he had.

Australia - Top of Ayers Rock

Razorclaw smiled underneath his faceshield. Ultra Magnus was clearly pissed off at the situation that had arisen with Prowl becoming a hostage. Good. Let him be pissed. The Decepticons had been used to help save Hot Rod. Yes, the Fallen was defeated, but that didn’t change how the Autobots had treated their rivals. The bots spoke of peace, but what they really wanted was to rescue their own no matter the cost to the con side.

Still, the Predacon lord had to save face and focus on the ultimate good that was accomplished from this battle. The universe had been spared along with all other Cybertronians. The Empire had played a part in that which was at least something to be proud of regardless of the Autobots’ true intentions. They were, after all, the very extension of the old Senate and corrupted ideals that had started this whole war to begin that. What happened here proved that nothing had changed. Razorclaw would need to play a little politics in order to make this situation seem more like a victory for the Decepticons and less like being used as pawns in an Autobot game. Unfortunately, politics was not his strong suit, but it was a necessary evil that needed to be used in order to keep his claim on the throne intact.

“That all depends on how you define ‘sterner stuff’, Ultra Magnus,” the lion-former growled at his opposite. “After all, I am still standing even after being hit by the Fallen’s dark power.” Razorclaw listened as the new Autobot leader spoke of disposing of the demigod’s spark in a method of their choosing, promising not to allow the Fallen to rise again. “I would hope not, Magnus. That would be very foolish of you if you did.” The Predacon lord studied the City Commander intently, looking for any variations in his visage that would indicate he was lying. Razorclaw saw none, glancing over at Soundwave for a brief moment, seeking confirmation of that fact. The communications expert gave no immediate indication that Magnus was being dishonest and simply stared off towards the horizon for some unknown reason. The Predacon Commander said nothing and returned his attention to his opposite.

“Fine, Magnus. See to it that the Fallen’s spark never sees the light of day again. In the meantime, we will take our leave. You will get your military strategist back once Astrotrain is airborne and not an astrosecond sooner. Got it?” Razorclaw smirked and turned towards the edge of the summit, gesturing for Soundwave to follow. Igniting his foot thrusters, the lion-former leapt off the edge and slowly descended towards the bottom of the mountain where Astrotrain was beginning to power up his thrusters.

Opening a private comm line as he went, Razorclaw addressed the Decepticon communications specialist:

>>”Soundwave, is everything all right with you? You seem...preoccupied with something. Is there anything you wish to tell me?”<<

Australia - Base of Ayers Rock

Not waiting for a response from Soundwave, Razorclaw landed at the bottom of the mountain, stumbling a bit on the uneven terrain. His fuel cells were low and his body was wrought with a variety of damage both inside and out, but he still functioned and that said a lot about what kind of warrior he truly was. A transmission from Psychout then came across his comm line, requesting redeployment of drones to scorch the earth of Cybertronian remains.

>>”Permission granted, Psychout. Remember, any vehicons who are simply in stasis need to be salvaged. They are hard to come by and the ones that can be repaired need to be brought back with us. At the very least, salvage their spark fragments if possible.”<<

Cutting his comm line, Razorclaw approached Astrotrain as various Decepticons were steadily piling into the triplechanger’s shuttle alt mode. Rampage was patiently standing vigil outside, watching as the Autobots gathered their own. “It’s good to see you functioning again, Rampage. I take it Mal Practice and his little team of misfits did their job adequately? Where are the others?”

“Well, I’m right here.” It was Tantrum, having awoken about a breem ago and quickly taken his leave of the medical outpost known as FUBAR. “I guess Mal did okay. I feel normal...sorta. Headstrong is bringing up the rear, and I’m not sure where stupid Divebomb is at. Probably flying overhead somewhere.”

“Good,” Razorclaw responded, gazing skyward to see the Predacon flier still making passes over FUBAR. “Now, you and Rampage get into Astrotrain before he leaves without you.”

“Got it, boss. He better not leave without us. I'll punch him right in the faceplate!” Tantrum replied as he made his way inside the triplechanger, assuming that Rampage would not be far behind.

Wasting no time, Razorclaw opened a secured channel to his aerial brethren: >>”Divebomb, time to take our leave of this slaggin’ place. Get Headstrong moving and meet within Astrotrain. NOW!”<<

The lion-former then quickly switched from the Predacons’ private frequency over to the open channel: >>”Decepticons, finish up what you are doing ASAP. Astrotrain will depart within the breem!”<<

With his orders sent, Razorclaw limped over to Astrotrain’s hatchway where he stopped and peered out across the desert sands, awaiting the rest of his Decepticons to arrive so that they may depart with haste.

Australia--Aboard Astrotrain

Blast-Off's arrival was a welcome one. The medical unit's repair work appeared to be above satisfactory. He would make a mental note to enter a field commendation into their records.

“I understand the Fallen has been neutralized, sir. Were there many other casualties from the fight? How did the rest of our unit fare while I was gone?"

"We did suffer significant losses, but it's too early to tell to what extent. I will examine the figures directly once we've returned to the Thanatos unless Lord Razorclaw commands otherwise. There is much instability that yet needs to be brought under our control."

Which brought to mind another pressing matter. He and Razorclaw had secured Motormaster's allegiance in their gambit to take control of this sector of the empire in Megatron's absence, and ultimately lead the empire from that moment forward. But they had not yet had any significant discussions with the Constructicon Commander, though Onslaught had always intended to do so. Circumstances had simply not allowed that discussion to take place. Now it was more important than ever, after what he had seen take place on that battlefield.

Even so, he had not ignored the remainder of Blast-Off's question.

"The others are functional. I have no doubts they will join us shortly. Dismissed until formal unit debriefing, Blast-Off. Rest. We might not be able to for very long."

With that said, Onslaught turned his attention to the new Decepticon Supreme Commander who had approached and was standing just outside Astrotrain's bay doors, interacting with one or more of his Predacons. They had just achieved a significant victory, but there was still far more yet to accomplish. The crown of Decepticon leadership was never taken lightly or easily. Securing the far outposts of the Decepticon Empire would be a challenge worthy of them all.
___

“It’s good to see you functioning again, Rampage. I take it Mal Practice and his little team of misfits did there job adequately? Where are the others?"

Rampage had stiffened slightly at Razorclaw's approach, nodding in respect to the alpha predator.

"And you, my lord," Rampage said, before thinking about Razorclaw's subsequent question.

"Yeah. They were good. Best I've seen in a while, actually. I might, heh, actually feel better than I did when we came down here. Well, apart from the ultra energon stuff. I need some more of that."

Razorclaw's other question was answered in short order by the other Predacons themselves as they were arriving. Divebomb-check. Tantrum-check. Headstrong probably wasn't far off.

When Razorclaw gave his last set of orders to Rampage and Tantrum, Rampage saluted and followed Tantrum into the shuttle, edging past Onslaught who appeared to be closing in on the Commander's position.

"Can't believe we didn't get our hands on that lupine traitor runt."

Australia – Shuttle Longevity – Combat Casualty Care

The red light of the camera bolted to the side of Rewind’s head blinked off. Blue light flicked behind the tiny archivist’s visor as his optical systems came back online. And the first sight they were greeted by was Chromedome standing beside him. He felt the mnemosurgeon’s hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. Gentle was all he could really muster. He wasn’t feeling great.

“D-Domey…” Rewind managed though he thought his vocals sounded strange. He tried to think back on what might have caused that. And then he remembered. Hex. His head! Oh Primus. Okay, yeah. That explained a lot. “I’m sorry…” Rewind had kind of gotten caught up in the moment when he had seen Axle in trouble.

Something blinked at him from his peripheral vision. He looked. It was his HUD telling him that he had new footage that needed to be categorized for the archives. He brought it up and started replaying it in his head as he looked up at Chromedome.


“Yes, indeed it would. Come, Blindside. I’ve got an idea!"

“Oh Primus,” Blindside uttered, knowing almost exactly what was coming next. The blind tactician followed his mischevious friend into the combat care hold, trying not to pay much attention to what was happening to Veneer. They made their way over to the CR chambers against the far wall as Howlstrike looked over the controls. Blindside gave him a look.

“Wanna prank Bluestreak?" Howlstrike asked as he turned to face Blindside. “I want to change his color scheme to include some actual blue. A black and silver mech called Bluestreak is just plain silly and when I asked him about it back on Cybertron he kinda dodged the question saying that his colors changed when he changed, whatever that means."

“It does sound like some spiritual, symbolic thing. Kinda like what you did after leaving the Predacons I suppose. And- Wait. He’s not blue? I always thought he was…The name kind of implied it…”

“Problem is I’m not sure how to access the color palette on one of these things. Can you help me, Blindy?" The former Predacon looked back at his friend once more. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Besides, ol’ Blue might actually like his new look. Heh."

“Oh alright, alright. I think I remember from the time Sideswipe colored me rainbow…” Blindside leaned in and fiddle with the CR chamber controls, going mostly from memory and entering in the written code for a dark navy blue. “Is this right, Howl? Darker? Lighter? More purple-y? More greenish? Is he going to be entirely blue or just some bits?”

Australia – Ayer’s Rock

Weirdwolf jumped back slightly as his crocodilian friend transformed into his primal mode, his teeth grinding together in that all too familiar way. The tracker assessed the situation in a moment, noting that the Decepticons would be leaving soon. There was little time for Skullcruncher to amble around blindly looking for a meal. Best to leave that to a tracker.

With one powerful kick of his legs, the lupine tracker soared off the edge of Ayer’s Rock and down into the desert, sniffing the air as he went. The Fallen had repelled and killed many of their Vehicons at the start of the engagement. One of those would be laying around somewhere. It wasn’t long before Weirdwolf found one. Buried in the sand, he dug it out, and seized its leg with his powerful jaws.

It was only another relatively short leap back up to Ayer’s Rock from her. Being able to jump a mile high had its uses. Landing on the edge, he dragged the Vehicon with relative ease toward Skullcruncher. Plopping it down in front of his primal friend, he jumped away just as Skullcruncher would have gotten the scent of the dead Vehicon’s energon.

“Want this my troublesome little friend? Catch me you must!” Weirdwolf growled out, his mouth still mostly occupied by the Vehicon leg in it. He jumped away quickly, lithely. Leading his friend to the edge of the rock. Once there, Weirdwolf jumped off the edge to where Astrotrain waited below and left a trail of energon from his landing into the triple changer where he released the Vehicon and stepped back. All that was left to do was wait for Skullcruncher to pursue his prey into the triple changer.


“W-Wait up, you guys!” Scavenger called out after Bonecrusher and Scrapper, limping off after them before he remembered Long Haul. He glanced around looking for his comrade to see the hauler face-first in the sand. The excavator jogged over to Long Haul and grabbed his comrade’s legs, heaving and dragging him across the sand.

“Hrn…urk…C’mon, Long Haul…we gotta catch up to the boss!” Scavenger whined as he towed his downed friend into Astrotrain. The puppycon gave Mixmaster a dirty look. “Ya couldn’t help a bit with Haul?”

The dirty look almost instantly vanished into an apologetic look. “Oh, uh…sorry, Mixy…Boss! Boss, it worked! We did it! It was awesome!” Scavenger said, hastily changing the subject and turning to look at Scrapper.


FUBAR

“Kuh…” Darkfire muttered as her systems began to reboot slowly. At least the ones that allowed her to be conscious. Everything else was agony and pain. “Kill…Feedback…” The pain swallowed her up once more into stasis. In it, she dreamed of having a wonderful time stabbing Starscream, Thrust and especially Feedback.

The dream was short lived however. Her systems soon phased her back into awareness. She was staring up at Earth’s blue sky. And she could not move at all. Pain was present too. Side effect by being struck by the Fallen’s dark lightening undoubtedly. How decidedly unprofessional. Ugh…this was a disaster. And an embarrassment. And she was totally going to kill Feedback given an opportunity. He was partially responsible for her current situation.

“-make sure the warranty isn't expired, ship her back to the warehouse. Heh heh."

“Do you have a death wish too, Cloudbreaker?” Darkfire snapped from her prone position on Landgrab. Well. Snapped is a strong word. It was more like a quiet rasp. It was so that Psychout just went ahead and issued the thief’s orders without missing a beat, adding an entirely unnecessary comment at the end.

“Good job, by the way. Nice to see at least one of you flyers can stay in the air."

Darkfire glowered at her tiny leader. Highly embarrassing. She let out a sigh. Well, she held some blame in the matter. She had not performed her best. Wait a minute. She craned her optics around until she saw Starscream being operated on by Mal Practice. She scowled and gave Psychout another glare. “Nice to see that we treat Starscream before each other,” she growled out quietly so that the air commander could not hear.


Inside Astrotrain

"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."

“Is what I do, darling,” Wildrider said with a devilish sneer at Breakdown. “What’s life without the constant rush of nearly missing death anyway? Live a little!” Wildrider’s optics followed Breakdown’s accusatory finger to the burn marks.

“Ah, you sour puss,” Wildrider grumbled, waving Breakdown off.

“You heard the commander boys! Get ready to depart!"

“Ugh, it’s over?” Wildrider griped, “This sucks. Just when it was getting good. Well, c’mon guys…back to boring old Thanatos.” The stunticon followed Motormaster into Astrotrain with all the enthusiasm of a dead weasel. At least while Motormaster was preoccupied with Prowl, he didn’t have the time to punish ‘Rider for being late to the party.

Wildrider intended to keep it that way. Restless in waiting, however, he began to tap his foot and drum on Astrotrain to stave off the boredom.

Australia - Autobot Shuttle Longevity - Combat Care Unit

Howlstrike stared back at Blindside when the tactician mentioned a spiritual or symbolic reason for Bluestreak changing his color scheme, even going so far as comparing it to what the former Predacon did with his own outer look once he became an Autobot. Howl thought for a moment and quickly realized that explanation actually made a lot of sense. “Yeah, I supposed you’re right, Blindy. But, still, if you’re named Bluestreak and you want to change your colors, at least have the decency to change your name, too. I mean, Silverstreak works well enough, right?”

The tracker then patted his friend on the shoulder plate, a smirk forming on his own visage. “No, Blindy, he’s not blue, not since before the war. He’s mostly silver and black now.” Howlstrike then lowered his arm and stepped aside to give the disabled mech room to work the CR chamber’s controls. Thankfully, Blindside had no problem pranking the chatterbot and thus Howl didn’t have to twist his arm to convince him. Literally twist his arm.

After a few astroseconds of the tactician fiddling with the CR console, the aerial mech asked if the shade of blue was correct and if the gunner would be completely blue or just parts of him. “Dark blue is good, I think,” Howlstrike responded, looking over Blindside’s shoulder to see what he was doing. “Well, I once took a peek at an old archival image of Bluestreak that was dated before the war. He was mostly dark blue except his hood. That was silver, so I would stick with that.” The former Predacon let out a chuckle and gave Blindside another hearty pat, this time on his back. “Ha ha! Ol’ Blue will be really surprised when he wakes up and sees his new look! Or would it technically be his old look? Ah, who cares? Can't wait to see his reaction either way! heh.”

Australia - Inside Astrotrain

Blast Off listened carefully when Onslaught spoke. The Decepticons had suffered significant losses during the battle. To what extent had yet to be determined. However, it was good to know that the other Combaticons were all functional and would be joining them in due haste within the triple-changing shuttle. “That's good to hear, sir,” the space warrior replied, keeping his hand up in a saluting position. The Combaticon Commander then dismissed his subordinate until a formal debriefing could be held, telling him to rest up while he had the chance. Blast Off nodded and lowered his arm down to his side.

“Yes, sir. I’ll try,” the space warrior spoke respectfully before moving away from his unit leader and finding a seat nearby. Blast Off sat down and leaned back against the wall behind him. Gazing around the compartment, he could see that Astrotrain was getting very crowded and there were still more mechs to arrive. Hopefully, the shuttle-former would have enough power with all this extra weight to get everybody out of Earth’s gravitational field and back up to the Thanatos. It would be a shame to survive the Fallen’s wrath only to die in a crash landing.
____________

Shoving his way through the crowd of Decepticons that had already squeezed into Astrotrain’s cargo hold, Tantrum finally found a spot to sit down on the opposite side from the hatchway. Rampage was close behind him, muttering something about not getting their mitts on the traitor, Howlstrike.

“His day will come,” the Predacon fueler grunted in response to Rampage, pushing a seeker aside to give him enough room on the bench for his big aft plate to rest comfortably. “Ah, that’s better,” Tantrum commented as he took a seat before glancing over at the unknown seeker who was now casting him a deep scowl. “What?! I need more room than you, slagger! Besides, shouldn’t you be outside with your cowardly commander giving us all an escort? You can fly right? Then get the frag out there, dumb-aft!”

The seeker shook his head in disgust before getting up and leaving. Tantrum didn’t know if he was just going to find another seat far away from him or if the flier was actually going to help provide an escort. Either way it didn’t matter to the grumpy fueler. “Come, Rampage, sit down already! Forget about Howl-slag and take a load off! Can’t wait to get out of this Primus-forsaken desert. This planet sucks worse than a cyber-tick!”

Australia – Shuttle Longevity – Combat Casualty Care

“Dark blue is good, I think," Howlstrike responded, looking over Blindside’s shoulder to see what he was doing. “Well, I once took a peek at an old archival image of Bluestreak that was dated before the war. He was mostly dark blue except his hood. That was silver, so I would stick with that."

“Alrighty,” Blindside said, punching in the changes into the console. The tactician smiled faintly as Howlstrike chuckled and patted him on the back. It was nice to have Howl as a friend. Despite his generally amiable disposition, Blindside didn’t have many close associates. Veneer. Some of the medical staff he supposed, but only through Vee.

Other than that…Howlstrike was really the only one that came to mind as a close friend. It was nice. “Ha ha! Ol’ Blue will be really surprised when he wakes up and sees his new look! Or would it technically be his old look? Ah, who cares? Can't wait to see his reaction either way! heh."

“Heh, and I can’t wait to hear it, though he might hate me more for it now that I think about it…I kinda snapped at him earlier when Vee was…uh…Anyway, should I look in to a new color scheme? I feel like blue and grey is kinda drab. Didn’t you mention something about a beast alternate mode too?”

Blindside finished punching in the code and stood back as the CR chamber back to paint the non-injured areas. He turned his head to simulate looking over at Howl. “So? How’d I do?”

Base of Ayers Rock

Nova Strike rested his left foot on the edge of a small blast crater crusted in obsidian. Small fragments of metal littered the bottom, evidence of a grizzly demise at the hands of the intense firepower from the heavens. A shallow stale breeze began to kick up from the south, shifting the thin threads of smoke from small straight spires to dancing memories of those who had given their spark to this victor-less battle.

He knelt down briefly and allowed his fingers to scratch along the surface of the blackened glass before stopping his hand in the center of the crater. Carefully he allowed a concentrated pulse of sonic energy to permeate the ground and race through the depths. the pulse of energy raced across the landscape, rebounding off damaged features of the terrain that surrounded the mountain. Soon the pulse dissipated after the furthest extent of the battle had been reached, and the relevant data was soon recovered by the Ranger's sonar systems.

Nova stood up to height as the data was sifted in his primary computers, analyzed for tactical readings as well as potential sites for engineering redress when the time came to dispatch the more optimized teams to restore the landscape. Non combatants, they were few among either faction... faction, such a distasteful term... used to aid in restoration of lands damaged by battle during infiltration protocols. But given the cursory information the Ranger had gathered, it would be a difficult task to cover this site before the local inhabitants came to investigate the landmark.

As he stepped down off the edge of the blast crater, Nova Strike registered a familiar warble in the near distance. The sound of a system rebooting and a level of pain being mitigated. Pain, a constant companion to the former racing star... immune to most forms of sedation and allergic to the rest, Nova Strike had become accustom to enduring gross amounts of agony during the war. It made for interesting doctor visits and was a continual source of frustration for the medics themselves.

Finally the warble became somewhat intelligible speech. Nova Strike looked over his shoulder to see a battered and nearly broken yet still functional Decepticon rising from the gouged out trench of his inglorious impact. A wry smirk crossed the Ranger's face as the insecticon wannabe that identified himself as 'Waspinator' asked him as to why a mortal enemy had offered him assistance. More importantly... "I don't know," he finally responded in a slow manner. "Probably because I can't stomach watching anything suffer. We may be at separate ends of a philosophical debate that devolved into endless battle, but at the end of this war we are still Cybertronians. And even with all the sparks I've been forced to take, I'd like to think that should I survive this inane example of our species wide stubbornness I could look back and at least say I was honorable enough."

Nova Strike looked forward to the Longevity, its defensive systems slowly coming online as a remote activation code from an officer on the summit ordered its preparation for departure. "Maybe its a simple an Act of Random Kindness. Perhaps you should ponder what is the truth to my reasoning. Who knows, you may find a new outlook on life."

The ranger paused briefly for a response then disappeared down a shallow gully leading towards the combat shuttle that was Ultra Magnus's Longevity.

Australia - Top of Ayers Rock

>>"Soundwave, is everything all right with you? You seem...preoccupied with something. Is there anything you wish to tell me?"<<

Soundwave diverted his gaze from Ultra Magnus and turned to his newly appointed Supreme Commander. To see the lion-former express any sort of interest towards the blue and white Decepticon was... Surprising none the less. Either that, or the beastie had a knack for noticing minute details in every Decepticon now under his rule. The communications officer made a note of this development before opening his comm line once again.

>>"It is nothing, my liege. Merely side effects of the mind meld and telepathic link. I'll tend to restoring myself once we are back aboard the Thanatos. As for the Autobots, Ultra Magnus' mind reveals no intentions of harming us as we make our departure. His compassion for the strategist keeps his honor and word bound to him."<<

Soon after his response was sent, the lion-former made his departure towards Astrotrain's current location. Soundwave took that to be the sign that he was finished there as well. The left hand of the blue and white Decepticon activated his chest cavity door. The final horde of cassettes minus Buzzsaw and Ravage leaped back into their usual storage hold until they could freely roam the ship once Astrotrain got back. With every Decepticon soon to be cramped aboard the triplechanger's shuttle mode, elbow room was not going to be a luxury most would enjoy. Luckily Soundwave and his minions were blessed with mass shifting technologies, so space won't be hard for them to find. Igniting the smaller thrusters in his boots, Soundwave followed Razorclaw's flight trail towards Astrotrain and the rest of the gathered Decepticon horde.



Jazz watched the Decepticons flee back towards their rendezvous point with a icy stare. Each shift of his optical sensors were hidden behind his icy-blue visor, though he knew full well any quick movements would end up putting a new ventilation hole in Prowl's head. Had to stay cool, keep focused, be the better mech in this situation... With most of the heavy hitters having been bounced back up aboard the '22, this was a game out wits and words now.

"Don't let his words break ya now Magnus." The black and white specialist stated softly to the Autobot Commander, "We let them leave, then it's smooth sailing back to the ship with Prowl still in somewhat of a decent status."

Australia - Aboard Astrotrain

Soundwave landed in the red dirt beside the Triplechanger who was serving as the Decepticon's means of returning to the Thanatos. He walked around to the keel of the shuttle and up the ramp. Underneath one of the seats he spotted Buzzsaw gnawing on the energon fuel lines still connected to Bitstream's severed processor. Satisfied at the sight, the Communications officer walked towards his avian cassette, bumping his way past the Constructicons as he shifted to his cassette player mode, placing himself beside the seeker's dislodged cranium underneath the seat.

"Can't wait to get off this frakking excuse of a planet!" Vortex exclaimed from his seat in excitement to return. "Hey, Blast-Off! Enjoy your little nap out there in the dirt?"

Further down the lineup of various Decepticons, Dead End reclined as far back as he could within Astrotrain's interior seating. The pessimistic Stunticon only stared at the floor of the Shuttle while Wildrider and Breakdown partook in conversation, though it was more like idiotic rambling at this point.

Blitzwing soon stumbled into Astrotrain's cargo bay having just survived his failed attempt at turning the Fallen into a puddle. The commando's endurance was considered legendary by most Decepticons, and it definitely showed its worth when he performed his infamous tank dropping attack, but few have ever been able to avoid this onslaught of high speed metal. Blitzwing could count on one hand how many times he had failed that particular routine, and the Fallen proved to add another tally on that short list.

"Fragging Demi-gods... Fragging truce with the Autobots... Fragging, fragging, frakking, slag this!!" He cursed under his breath as he found his seat and crossed his arms over his chest plating.

Australia – Top of Ayer's Rock

Taking after Razorclaw's example, Motormaster activated the thrusters in his feet as well, leaping off the summit backwards, his optics never leaving the Autobots still gathered up there. With Prowl still secured in his crushing grip and the threat of Thanatos looming in the orbit – there was very little chance of Autobots trying anything stupid. That being said, Motormaster trusted no Autobot. If looks could kill, he would have been a very dead mech by now. Too bad the open hostility of the Autobots only fed the Stunticon's devilish spark. Holding so many famous Autobot heroes at bay with his little stunt was empowering. It was a shame he would have to let Prowl go eventually.

Landing down near Astrotrain's spaceship form, Motormaster backed down next to the triplechanger's open hatch and stopped there to wait. Just for the show he had to be the last one to board Astrotrain. It was hardly a problem from him, at least he got to enjoy the reactions of the Autobots for a bit longer.

Standing there in guard he witnessed the Constructicons dragging in each other. Curious. The greenies had developed a massive weapon they could perhaps even try to use to wrestle the leadership of the Decepticons from Razorclaw and his supporters. If that had been the case, their plan had backfired due to the Fallen fiasco. All six seemed to be still alive but not all of them had escaped the battle unscathed. And due to the damage, it was unlikely they could combine into Devastator again before some considerable repairs. It was in fact, a golden opportunity for Razorclaw and the others to corner them before they had a chance to perform those repairs. Divide and conquer and all that slag.

>>”I suggest you use this chance to hit a wedge between the Constructicons before they become a larger threat boss.”<< Motormaster radioed Razorclaw. He was pretty certain that the Predacon leader was already on top of the situation but better safe than sorry right?

The next sight made the Stunticon snicker. It was Brawl, dragging uncharacteristically silent Swindle unceremoniously behind him, drawing a line in the sand. Good old Brawl, there was a 'con after Motormaster's own dark spark. Too bad none of his Stunticons were like this bruiser. And to be brutally honest, seeing that conniving little huckster Swindle manhandled like that was always uplifting.

The sight following the two Combaticons actually made Motormaster to take few steps away from the hatch. It was Weirdwolf - jogging in a straight line towards Astrotrain while carrying a badly mangled Vehicon in his jaws. Or well. Weirdwolf was hardly the reason for the brutish Decepticon to do so. It was what was following the tracker – Skullcruncher, in a form of a ravenous cybergator. Something he had no desire to wrestle with Prowl still in his custody.

“You better know what the frag you are doing with him.” Motormaster rumbled as Weirdwolf dashed into Astrotrain, followed closely by growling crocodilian cybervore. Hopefully Skullcruncher didn't end up slaughtering fellow Decepticons to satisfy his primordial hunger. The battle had left the Decepticons in a position where every able warrior was needed after all.

>>”Boss? Are we still missing people?”<<

Australia: Medical Outpost FUBAR.

Razorclaw wrote:>>>Permission granted, Psychout. Remember, any vehicons who are simply in stasis need to be salvaged. They are hard to come by and the ones that can be repaired need to be brought back with us. At the very least, salvage their spark fragments if possible.<<<

The order given, Psychout addressed the few mobile Vehicon and Seeker minion units and passed along Razorclaw’s order. It was not an easy task and took some time to locate the few remaining drones still on their feet, but he spent as long as he could overseeing the clean-up operation – the Infiltration protocols were his specific speciality and his core reason for being in this sector of the galaxy at all – and he was damned if he would allow the ‘cons to give themselves away, even after a battle on such a disruptive scale as this one, at least Razorclaw appreciated that.

As the last of the drones either destroyed or recovered the wreckage, he gave them the order to return to Astrotrain and allowed himself a last satisfied glance around the rocky outcrop where they had been stationed for what felt like megacycles, but had actually passed in the blink of an optic.

His orders now complete and all his patients restored and gone, Psychout turned to his team. Darkfire was damaged, but conscious and back to her old self, and had been loaded onto Landgrab for the ride home. Mal Practice took a sideways glance at her and turned back to Starscream.
“Nice to see that we treat Starscream before each other" she had muttered.
“Maybe next time you’ll actually use the equipment I supply, and then you might be able to stay in the air and wont need treating!?” Psychout joked in response, with only the faintest hint of sarcasm. Darkfire’s demeanour was legendarily dour and joyless but with the whole team together finally it didnt matter, Cloudbreaker had been given ample salvage time, and he now felt able to give the order to move out, especially as he could see Crueljaw was getting bored and when he got bored people got hurt – usually Feedback.

Starcream now in position opposite the newly deposited sleek form of Darkfire, the squat and boxy form of Mal Practice mounted up and signalled for Landgrab to begin the journey back to Astrotrain, wasting no time getting stuck into the repairs.
Under usual circumstances peripherals such as anaesthetic and sterile conditions would cost extra, but he had already had enough of Starscream’s whining and needed some peace and quiet, so administered the dose and without waiting for it to kick in, began the process of attaching Nighweavers extraneous appendages to the Seeker commander.
The four of them trundled off, with Battletrap as escort, assuming he was smart enough to actually follow therm.

Meanwhile, Psychout continued to evaluate his team. Seven of them landed on the dustball, and seven of them would be leaving, although some in better condition than others. “Well, ‘Jaws..,he said as he prepared to assume his static altmode. “..not the most exciting of battles but we’ve been in worse. Let’s get off this dustball...”

He waited a few seconds for Crueljaw to be ready, and then transformed into his immobile but portable altmode. His journey was in the hands of his bodyguard now.



As Landgrab continued slowly towards Astratrain, a shower of sparks trailed behind as the expert battlefield surgeon skilfully reconnected the circuitry and calculated the perfect positioning to ensure the drag remained at the minuscule levels that even he had to admit Starscream rightfully boasted. This was far from the first time he had to fix a seeker’s wings – just the first time he’d had to do it under these conditions, and on someone usually so finely tuned and he was loving it.

Welding torches were buzzed, optics were flickered, schematics were consulted, circuitry was sizzled, brows were wiped, hinges were hinged, pistons were pressurised, and Darkfire and Landgrab were subjected to lingering tension-filled close-ups, but eventually the familiar clanking of access panels closing signaled the end of the extended surgical montage.

Mal reached up and pressed a few buttons calling up Landgrabs holographic diagnostics display where Starscream could see it, just as Astrotrain came into sight.
“…and there you are.” the doctor stated, matter-of-factly. "98.94% match for velocity efficiency, aerodynamic factor within a thousandth of a newton of your former wing array, and co-efficient drag should be barely noticeable so escape velocity will be as easy as ever. You should still be as fast, if not faster, than any of the surviving seeker drones, assuming you still have any.”

And with that assessment, Mal left Starcream to try out his new wings as he boarded Astrotrain, riding on Landgrab's now empty repair bay opposite Darkfire. Just the boss and the last few clean up crews to come now, and then they could finally be away from this hideous rock.

Airspace Above the Desolation

The roar of the omnipresent wind tore over the audio receivers embedded in the forward tip of the reinforced nosecone as it bore through a thick opaque tower of ash, soot and smoke. The aftermath of battle that rose from the scorched scourge of the planet's surface below. Remains of titanic sandstone limbs and battered torsos, fractured heads and smoldering craters speckled the landscape under wing.

Those were the threats that those who called the ground home had to contend with. Their plight only served to fuel the growing contempt that boiled within the energon core of the aircraft as it barreled to its port.

Thundercracker angled into a shallow plummet from thirty thousand kilometers towards the largest collection of friendly signals on his targeting computer. As he crossed the twenty five thousand mark, those he had tabbed as neutral immediately reverted to hostile. Automatically his weapons systems, or at least the few that remained with ammunition or had not suffered damage during his mad dash to evade and eventually take down a pair of flying flaming buzzards, cycled through to passively toggle several remote signals near the Autobot shuttle craft.

He stayed his hand, not because of a sharp order over the communication lines by the current tyrant of the hour to stand down. No, it was more simple... to fight now after such a cataclysmic battle that had cost both sides a great deal in mech and materials was not only foolhardy it was dishonorable. Instead he angled himself down to a steeper plunge and opened his flaps to create a large cavern of drag.

His engines ignited with an additional boost of fuel he pulled from his reserves. Following his sharp dive, Thundercracker approached the shuttles on a near ground level race towards the summit. Sprays of vapor caused a thick contrail to form in his wake as he hit super sonic speeds over the Longevity and the Serenity. The sonic boom that coursed over the ground caused the rocks to vibrate and tumble... the Seeker could only imagine what sort of chaos would be created within those grounded vessels. Served them right for being ground bound.

"May have been dishonorable to attack ya, but nothing said I can't have a little fun to brighten my day," he called back as he corkscrewed upwards over the old timer Kup's position.

After a second or so in a renewed bank, Thundercracker transformed and landed within a few meters of the massive triple changer Astrotrain. He switched his weapons to standby and approached the cockpit of the large shuttle. "Hey, your passengers all buckled in or what?" He rapped the knuckles of his left hand onto the emergency egress door, hard enough to scratch the paint if he chose to angle his strikes to a more aggressive degree. "This place is starting to stink like ground pounders."

Transmission from Flamewar to Soundwave

>>”Soundwave, this is Flamewar. I need an update on the progress of the battle.”<<

Medical station fubar
"You're not wrong 'Jaws. This many Decepticons inside one single transport? It's a good thing we've got you with us. I might want to have a chat with Swindle about the quality of his merchandise there though. Fancy helping, your talents always come in useful for getting refunds?"


Crueljaw's optic narrowed at the suggestion as if he was in deep contemplation the permutations for clobbering swindle where many and did need some thought. He looked at Psychout his optic went wider as he spoke "only if you manage to get him on his own away from the rest of the team could get a bit messy" a sadistic chuckle emanated from the Bodyguard as Psychout gave the signal to transform.

Throwing the offline Feedback into the air he transformed into his Humvee alternate mode midway through snatching the immobile form of Psychout. The offline mess of wires and energon fluid that was feedback landed in the Pickup section with a clang.

"As battles went I think I've had rust spots that where tougher"

The black humvee rumbled off to Astrotrain boarding via the nearest ramp the transport was comically overloaded this would be getting fun.

Australia - Onboard Astrotrain

...10,000,000,000 Shanix.
The numbers floated before Swindles eyes in a mocking daze.
...ten billion Shanix, with a 'B'.
The words spelt themselves out in front of his eyes, each letter like a dagger to the wallet.
...TEN. BILLION. SHANIX!!

That was more zeroes than he had fingers. He could have been rich. He could have retired. He could have been killed, but that was as usual for a day in the Combaticons. That Spark Extractor could have been worth an obscene amount on the right market, and Wheeljack just... he just blew it up. ...why?!

He had been vaguely aware of Brawl slapping him, dragging him across the desert into Astrotrain, and dumping him there but his neural processes were near catatonic at the destruction of his nest-egg. The parties, the mansions, the servants, the fembots, the personality upgrade for Vortex, the highest grade of energex the galaxy could ever hope to witness...!
All gone in an astrosecond he lamented.


...
Ten.
Billion.
$hanix.
...


The small jeep collected himself. No sense crying over what could have been, what never was, or what was never meant to be, he reassured himself. There will be more opportunities, more chances to make a profit and to get back to business. Your big score is still out there Swindle, you can do this, just give them the usual grin as if it doesn't matter and move on...

He took a second to calm his rapidly-firing neurons, get his cardio-unit pumping steadily again and prepared himself to move on with his life without his glorious weapon of mass destruction that could have earned him enough to purchase a medium-sized war moon all of his own...

And finally he took his first steps in the healing process following histories most expensive explosion.


"SLAGGIT! I REALLY WANTED THAT MOON!!"

Australia – Shuttle Longevity – Combat Casualty Care Unit

Not only was it the sound of the emergency klaxons catch First Aid’s attention but the bellowing of the CMO did as well.

Aid tried to make his way to Veneer’s bedside where Ratchet was perched trying to hold the convulsing nurse down. A quick look around and the Protectobot spotted Axle jogging away from the storage cabinet with an armful of surgical supplies. Damn. This was happening….now. Not what Aid had been hoping for. They all wanted to be back on the Guardian before they started working on Vee.

“Don’t just stand there, Aid! Get your aft in gear and help Axle get prepped. And while you’re at it get set up yourself!” Ratchet growled out while pinning Veneer’s arms down with a little more weight. The order jarred First Aid into motion. He swiftly moved in beside the slab and switched places with Ratchet, freeing the CMO up.

Ratchet finally stepped back when Axle and First Aid shutdown Vee’s motor relays settling the nurses bucking body. Axle then perched behind the head of the slab and started the surgery, at the same time First Aid set work providing the necessary tools and monitored the patient’s progress. On a couple of occasions the use of his own hands were needed to complete a complicated task. This as Axle talked the nervous Protectobot through the procedure.

Ratchet let out a heavy sigh as he looked down at his hands. They never shook anymore, instead they locked up. He shook his head as he watched his two subordinates trying to save the life of one of their comrades. And then it hit him.

He looked up and then around. He pressed his feet harder into the floor. Nothing but the usual humming and low thumping from the engines. Why the hell hadn’t they left this planet?

With a low growl Ratchet balled his hands into tight fists as he took off out of the CCCU. Time to pay a visit to the bridge.

Shuttle Longevity – Bridge

Like a tornado Ratchet entered the bridge a scowl as deep as the Grand Canyon etched on his face. ‘Bots from around the bridge whipped their heads around and cringed back when they realized who it was that had entered.

Teeth grinding loud enough to hear, Ratchet placed both hands on his hips as his optics zeroed in on the mech he had come to see. “BLASTER! What the slag is the fragging hold up?! We need to get to the Guardian yesterday! I’ve got a unit full of ‘Bots in serious condition and one in critical condition.”

FUBAR

Battletrap finally understood Shockwave was in good hands so he did what Mal Practice wanted him to do. He transformed and separated again to clear the area in front of him of all the debris while the others finished up the repairs on whoever they had to tend with.

"Clean the area, secure route to Astrotrain, leave planet. We win the fight and survived. Autobots will get their due later. Commander Shockwave is safe and functional."

For the Duocon, this fight was a bit overwhelming and rather happy to return to normal. The only question was what would be normal for the Cons now with Razorclaw in charge. Battletrap knew little of politics except he owes his current existence to Shockwave. He remembered little of his previous life as a single mode Cybertronian. Once they arrived at Astrotrain, Battletrap transformed back into his robot mode and stood next to the door since there was little room to sit.


Octane walked up to his buddy Astrotrain and watched as the Cons walked in. Times like these reminded him of how truly valuable the Triplechangers were to the cause. It also irritated him that they got so little recognition for their efforts and abilities.

"Hey Astrotrain, I've got some of the fuel from our little raid earlier. Would you like to be topped off before you head up? I wouldn't want any of your precious cargo like Supreme Commander Razorclaw to end up scrap or in the deep ocean. I'm not sure if cats can swim. Don't worry about owing me anything, I will put it on the Empire's tab which will be settled once we get back up to the Thantos."

Assuming his buddy would want the fuel, Octane pulls out one of his hoses and plugs into the fuel tank of his fellow Triplechanger and starts to fuel him up. The biggest regret is it wasn't the ultra energon stuff they had back on the ship but the refined stuff on this mud ball planet.

En Route To Astrotrain And Unceremoniously Dumped In Crueljaw's Cargo Bed

As Feedback hit Crueljaw's cargo bed he twitched violently as the impact made connections of some severed wires still running power with the conductor that was was the metal of Crueljaw's bed.
Though hardly powerful enough to be much more than a little static like shock to the tough Bodyguard, Feedback's already sensitive systems got much more of a jolt.


However, at the point he was at, it was not nearly enough to shock him into consciousness. His last attempt at coming online was helped by Psychout's efforts at restoring his systems, Crueljaw had done excellent work at undoing most of that and was preventing his main systems at coming online, and only the background processes were keeping him alive.
But the shock sent his redundant systems kick on briefly and try to search for his location co-ordinates. Unable to locate the positioning dishes on the Thanatos, his systems desperately searched for any other Decepticon location beacons, but found none as his array was missing (though his redundant systems seemed to not have gotten that message); as far as his systems were concerned all Decepticon vessels in the area were gone... in fact, all the human satellites were gone too. This concerned his systems immensely and they were not happy. Starting a distress protocol, he pinged out a distress message with his last co-ordinates on all the normal encrypted Decepticon channels.. rapidly, for less than a minute, though. Even though his main communications array was gone, his weaker internal one was able to send out the radio frequency.

As the shock of power began to cycle out his twitching decreased as his redundant systems pulled offline. It did leave him with a few involuntary movements, his clawed actuators on one hand digging into Crueljaw's bed as the Bodyguard went up the ramp into Astrotrain, scratching three thin lines into the metal as his arm moved from the change in angle and the one last twitch.

----

En Route To Soundwave's Chest Compartment And Thusly Astrotrain


Frenzy gave a rude gesture to the Autobots he had been looming over as Soundwave's silent call went out to return. "Next time, ya slaggin' Bots... next time!" He snarled at them as he switched from hovering to flight, rapidly moving to the chest compartment of his boss.
As he arrived he transformed to cassette mode and slid into Soundwave's chest, nestled between Laserbeak and Rumble. Mentally he smiled quite contently. At least all this mess was over and he could go back to bashing Bots.

Onboard Astrotrain

Ravage had traveled in the wake of Soundwave. His boss’s shadow. Most mechs had a tendency to watch someone who could read your mind rather than just about anyone else. Given that and his built in stealth capabilities…Ravage piled into Astrotrain nicely beside Soundwave, unnoticed for the moment. However that would probably soon change given the sheer amount of Decepticons piling into the triple changer.

Ravage did not care to be shoved around as space grew small, so he transformed and slipped inside of Soundwave’s chest cavity. Though in close proximity to his fellow cassettes, he did not mind them as much as say…the rather starved looking Skullcruncher he’d seen chasing after Weirdwolf.

Weirdwolf, for his part, huffed indignantly at Motormaster’s gruff comment. “Know I what I do,” he replied before glancing down at the Vehicon that he’d chosen for Skullcruncher’s meal. This probably would be enough for his friend to regain his senses. Probably. Definitely. “Definitely enough,” Weirdwolf thought aloud.


Shuttle Longevity – Bridge

Blaster was still grappling with a severe amount of shock when Ratchet burst onto the bridge, so the crimson mech didn’t immediately notice the furious medical officer. He had been running every single kind of check and test he could imagine. Every single one of them pointed to one fact. Optimus Prime was on Earth. Alive. Found. He just couldn’t believe it.

"BLASTER!”

“KAH!” Blaster nearly jumped out of his chassis as he whipped about to face Ratchet, his optics still wide as discs.

What the slag is the fragging hold up?! We need to get to the Guardian yesterday! I’ve got a unit full of ‘Bots in serious condition and one in critical condition."

“I-It’s…” Blaster struggled for once to find the words. “It’s Optimus, Ratchet.” Blaster glanced back to the console where its readout still clearly showed the Prime’s faint signal. “I-I found him. He’s alive.” Blaster looked back to Ratchet, spreading his hands out to the medical officer pleadingly.

“He’s alive.”


FUBAR

“Maybe next time you’ll actually use the equipment I supply, and then you might be able to stay in the air and wont need treating!?"

“Bite me,” Darkfire retorted spitefully as she phased in and out of consciousness. When she next awoke, Psychout was gone. “Bah…” she grumbled, chiding herself. She should have used the water cannon, but her honed reflexed hadn’t trusted an unfamiliar weapon. Her own body had gotten the better of her. And then there was Feedback. Death! Death to him! Stabs…when she could move again.

As much as it pained her to be awake, she would rather be that than unaware of her surroundings. When the end came, she would be awake for it. Paralyzed by the Fallen’s lightning or not. She would face it as she had faced life. Resolutely.

Australia--Uluru

As each successive mechanoid climbed into Astrotrain's cargo hold, the triple-changer noticed his load-bearing sensors growing increasingly out of whack. What exactly did they seem to think he was? The Nemesis? Primus almighty. This was going to take a miracle.

"Hey Astrotrain, I've got some of the fuel from our little raid earlier. Would you like to be topped off before you head up? I wouldn't want any of your precious cargo like Supreme Commander Razorclaw to end up scrap or in the deep ocean. I'm not sure if cats can swim. Don't worry about owing me anything, I will put it on the Empire's tab which will be settled once we get back up to the Thantos."

If Astrotrain had been in bot mode, his jaw would have dropped wide open. Octane giving away fuel with no expectation of direct and immediate repayment? A tab? He either must have taken some serious damage or he really wanted to get off this dirty little world. Astrotrain, for his part, actually found the place kind of scenic and ripe with potential. Potential that would just have to be explored later.

"Yeah. Do that. We're gonna need it," Astrotrain said, as he could already feel Octane hooking up the necessary equipment. And then the flow, that rush of energy. He was as ready to go as he was ever going to get.
___

Landgrab knew he was going to enjoy continuing to work with this Mal practice mech. He just handled things. Landgrab appreciated that, since he very much did not like handling things. Strategies. Politics. All of it. Blergh. No thanks.

By the time he had boarded the Decepticon triple-changer Astrotrain, his load had been almost completely lightened and the chief medic had done what he set out to do. And Landgrab had helped. Fibnally a niche where his proclivity to follow orders and not scheme might actually serve him. Who knows? He could come out of this war alive after all.

Australia - Autobot Shuttle Longevity - Combat Care Unit

Howlstrike watched closely as Blindside made the appropriate adjustments to the settings of Bluestreak’s CR chamber. Being unsure of exactly what the disabled mech could and could not see, the former Predacon wanted to make sure his new buddy did things correctly. After all, even though Howl wanted to prank the chatterbot, he didn’t want him disassembled and then put back together legs as arms and vice versa. Although, that would be downright hysterical, a prank that extreme would likely get the tracker thrown in the brig for many cycles. Prowl and the other higher ups would be none too pleased with losing one of their top gunners even for a short period of time while he was reassembled properly.

Still, Howlstrike couldn’t help but snicker at the thought. He may not be a Decepticon anymore, but the hunter was still a bit mischievous nonetheless. A good prank never hurt anyone, Howl thought to himself as Blindside’s words reached his audio receptors. “I wouldn’t worry about Blue. He may not like us for awhile but he won’t hate you. Me, on the other hand, he’ll accuse me of treason! Heh.” The former Predacon then considered Blindside’s question regarding his color scheme and even a new alt mode. This prank had certainly had the unexpected side effect of making the tactician doubt his own outward appearance.

“Well, if you stay blue and grey you’re going to be a close match to the chatterbot’s new blue and silver look,” Howlstrike responded with a hearty laugh. “But hopefully not a match in vocals. Heh. Not that color really matters since you don’t see color, but your body types are still totally different. Speaking of which, I think a beast mode would suit you well. Maybe, hmmmm...” the tracker thought for a moment, trying to come up with a good creature form. “I got it! A bat! From what I understand Terran bats use radar to see in the dark just like you. A bat form of some kind would be perfect I think, and it can fly so you wouldn’t lose that ability.”

The former Predacon fell silent as he watched Blindside finish tampering with the CR settings before asking if he had done a good job. Howlstrike leaned in closer to inspect the readings. “Yep, looks good to me, Blindside! Ol’ Blue-bot will now actually match his name. Heh.” The tracker then gave the disabled ‘bot another good hard pat on the back before glancing around to the other CR chambers which were quickly filling up with other damaged mechs. Howlstrike’s own injuries were still bothering him, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle for the time being. Blindside, however, was still in a lot of pain. Howl could see it just by looking at him.

“You should probably grab one of those CR units before they’re all taken up, Blindy,” Howlstrike suggested, looking back at his aerial friend. “I’ll be fine out here. I want to wait until chatterbot here wakes up and see's his new look. It shouldn't be too much longer. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all about his reaction later. Hahah.”