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Australia – Astrotrain

Brawl had had all the intention of pummeling Long Haul down if that had been what the situation required from him. On the other hand, the Constructicons were old comrades and he harbored no ill will towards them. He had enjoyed friendly brawls with both Bonecrusher and Long Haul on many occasions. That being said, orders were orders. And for all of his quirks, Brawl was good at obeying orders. What he wasn't good at was making judgment calls, those were left to Onslaught and the leader of the Combaticons hadn't been specific enough to prevent Brawl from acting exactly the way that came naturally to Brawl.

And making that call had resulted in Razorclaw yelling at him? It was crowded inside Astrotrain, how else they could have even gotten to Hook without alerting the Constructicons to gang up other than shoving them around without warning? Brawl didn't get it. Gah! It was Onslaught's fault as far as Brawl was concerned. He was the tactician. It was his slagging responsibility of giving Brawl a proper plan to follow. The angry glare Brawl directed at his commanding officer was as good indication of his feelings.

“Frag,” Brawl cursed as he got back to his feet and offered a hand to pull Long Haul up, “Uh, sorry Hauler. A little misunderstanding. That's all.”


Motormaster watched with mild amusement as chaos reigned within Astrotrain's cargo room. What little fun there had been was quickly put down by their de facto leader Razorclaw. Fine. He'd let the Predacon play diplomat if that's what he wanted to do. The Stunticon thug had given Razorclaw his word and while Motormaster's word couldn't exactly be trusted 100%, it was not given lightly either.

“You heard commander Razorclaw boys!” Motormaster boomed over the ruckus of sounds echoing inside Astrotrain, “Sit down and shut the slag up!”

The order had two sides to it. Quite frankly, Motormaster himself didn't feel like talking with anyone right now. Too much crap had gone down of late. The Ultrax lied in the bottom mud of one of the planet's great water masses in need of dire repairs. The new base Constructicons had been building had been compromised. The Decepticons had to get their house in order. Their leadership was nowhere near solidified and the Fallen had hurt them bad. And if Devastator, Shockwave, Starscream and Thunderwing didn't make everything complicated enough, the Fallen had hurt them bad. At least he had wrangled Prowl bad enough to cause some injuries that should at least slow down the Autobot tactician for a time being even if one of their fliers had managed to save Prowl from a crash landing. And then there was Dragstrip. No one defied the King of roads like that and got away with just a broken knee joint. Oh no. The crackdown would be long and painstaking.

On the bright side, making Wildrider shut up always lifted his mood.


There was a short moment where Skullcruncher's instincts told him to spin around and sink his teeth in the enemy which had dared to challenge him. Fortunately enough, the murderous haze that had overcome his upper thought processes began to fade away as the energon he had processed from the dead Vehicon began to nourish his depleted fuel reserves.

Being quite baffled really for finding himself in his cybergator mode instead of the last mode he had been adapted into, Skullcruncher transformed into robot form, rubbing his head in confusion.

“Weirdwolf? What just happened?”

Australia - Uluru

"Well don't mind if I do!" Jazz cheered alongside Ultra Magnus as the bulking commander placed the containment device into a secret compartment within his armor after suggesting the specialist joined him to access Blaster's rather dire communication. Wonder what's got DJ Smooth all worked up in a tizzy.

The black and white Autobot soon made it to base of the mountain and began making a bee-line towards the Longevity. The situation wasn't perfect, and this war has definitely seen better withdraws from war theaters before, but the fact Motormaster turned their victory over the supernatural force into a tactical hostage situation continued to pester at the back of Jazz's processor. He couldn't allow this to break his psyche though. Jazz was known all too well for being able to maintain his cool and keep a collected head when the going got rough like this, he wasn't gonna let some Stunticon-punk get the best of him either.

"We made it out of that mess. I wasn't sure we would..." Skids ushered in as he strolled up beside Jazz.

"Hey I got worried myself up there!" Jazz replied with his usual charisma, "I've done some dangerous missions here and into the next cycle, but never have I had to go servo-to-servo with anything like that!"

"Say what you will..." Getaway chimed in, "I had a good time with this endeavor. Not everyday you can say you managed to walk away from a ruddy demi-god."

"That's the spirit, Getaway!" The black and white Autobot exclaimed before Ultra Magnus added another suggestion upon their previous conversation.

"Jazz, when the opportunity arises, I want you to begin reviewing all treaties regarding First Contact. It's time we begin finding something we can use to our advantage, something that can actively thwart the eventual facimiles and replicas that are bound to begin taking hold."

Getaway rolled his optics at the sound of having to study ancient rules. Sure he didn't have to do the reading and paperwork, but the thought... Oh it gave him the shudders. "Yeah have fun with that, Jazz. I'll fight alongside you lot here, but not in the library. I've got a walking one right here." The escape artist said with a point of his thumb towards Skids. "Actually he could probably give you the sparknotes version." *bomp*

"Hey hey, no need to go make it easy on me now." The specialist joked, "Besides, a brief sit down at my desk could be relaxing. Kick back, play some of my tunes, and just unwind from this literal hell of a battle." Jazz then focused his attention back towards the city commander adorned in red and blue armor. "Aye aye Commander, I'll see to it once we get back."

Australia - Shuttle Longevity - Combat Casualty Care Unit

"D-Domey..."

Chromedome's head jolted up at the sound of a familiar soft muttering. His head pivoted at a near blinding speed to find his conjunx endura's blue visor flickered to life. Chromedome could feel the gentle squeeze of Rewind's hand against his own.

"Rewind..." Chromedome sputtered through broken breaths.

"I'm sorry..."

"No, no don't!" The mnemosurgeon exclaimed as he reached our behind the archivist's processor and pulled him in close, wrapping his arm around the cassettibot's back while maintaining his hold on the back of Rewind's processor. "It's my fault, this was all my fault! Don't blame yourself, I was the one who thought we could take Hex..." Chromedome slowly released his grip and pulled himself back in his spot so that he could stare visor-to-visor with the recovering cassette.

"I-I almost lost you..."

-

Optics flickered to life once again behind a sky blue visor, no doubt as a result of emergency reserves coming back online. The minibot of blue and white slowly felt his key systems coming back online, though only the few to keep his internals pumping, he couldn't feel a thing in his- oh right his legs are gone.

"I'm... I'm not dead..." Tailgate murmured, somewhat surprised to even hear his own voice out loud. He struggled to get the hydraulics and Pistons in his neck to allow him a chance to look around the room he was in. He could tell right away he was on the floor, leaning up against the wall in the far side of the room. The distance sound of familiar voices were coming from the north end of the room. Or perhaps it was the south... Damn internal compass shorted out, not qualified as a necessary tool in the event of an emergency reactivation.

"Hel-Hello?" He called out to the best of his ability. "Where am I?"

Australia – Autobot Shuttle Longevity – Combat Casualty Care Unit

Seeing a good friend in such a state was not only frightening, it was also sickening. Would Vee live, and if he did would he be okay after all is said and done? What will happen if he doesn’t make it? Will Blindside be alright? All these questions swirled through her processor as she stared out at Axle and First Aid working on Veneer.

“I’m sure First Aid and *cough* the others can save him,"

A small, forced smile made it to her face but it was gone too quickly. Tracer kept watching while she responded to Smokescreen. “Yeah. First Aid’s a great doctor and Axle saved you…he is in good hands.” She sighed lowly.

"Tracer," the red and blue mech said as he reached out to her with his left hand. “Tell me about him. Veneer, I mean. *cough cough* What’s he like?"

The light graze from Smokescreen’s hand made her look back at the rallybot. She smiled, this time with adoration. Her optics caught his for a moment before she looked back out toward the frantic surgery taking place.

For several moments she thought about just when to say. There was so much about him that summing Vee up in so few words would be pretty hard.

“Trace *cough* I need you,"

Tracer turned quickly, a moment of pain raced through her body, but she was able to school her features. There was no way she would worry Smokey. He didn’t need to worry about her. He had to focus on getting better.

“Oh, oh, oh. I’ve got that.” She reached out and grabbed a hold of the stand and lifted it off Smokescreen’s chest. She placed the stand back where it belonged and took hold of Smokey’s hand. She gave it a gently squeeze as she sat on the edge of the berth.

“Compassionate,” she said quietly. “You asked me to tell you about Vee. Well, he’s warm. And he always has time and room for everyone.” The scout smiled down at the ailing ‘Bot and ran her free hand over his chevron. “I remember hearing some of his patients complain about him… ‘He’s a nag. Can’t wait to get out of here and away from him.’” Her smile widened. “But they came back. Not because they were injured again, but because they wanted to thank him.”

Her gaze fell back on the surgical staff. “His optimism is contagious. He’s helped a lot of mechs though some hard times.” Tracer squeezed his hand a little tighter. “Vee helped Blindside after he lost his sight. They were both pigheaded; neither one wanted to give in to the other. Vee won the fight though.” She looked back down at Smokey.

“They’ve gotten pretty close.” She chuckled. “You look at those two and you think, yup, conjuges endurae, but they’re not.” Tracer shook her head and then smiled broadly down at the rallybot. “But they should be.”

Inside Astrotrain

Crueljaws quick transformation in Mal Pracice's defence just further reinforced how vital he was to the team, but an unexpected side effect of it was Psychout's static dataslug altmode, previously encumberant on his drivers seat, was now catapulted across Astrotrain's interior.

Normally aware of his surroundings, even if he couldn't move in this mode, the cassette-former braced himself for impact as he hit a wall and landed unceremoniously atop Shockwave's recumbent form, still and silent, recuperating on Landgrab. It took a brief second for him to recover his senses, and he reverted back to his larger (relatively speaking) robot mode. "Apologies, Commander" he muttered to Shockwave and quickly hopped down onto the workbench, landing next to Darkfire.

Darkfire herself was looking somewhat singed, but mostly intact and occasionally conscious. He tutted to himself, Mal may be the team surgeon, but he was still an engineer and so he called up Landgrabs schematics screen and went about diagnosing Darkfire's ills as a way to kill time on the journey. A simple enough job it would seem, but only one way to find out... He beckoned over Cloudbreaker to assist, drew a laser-scalpel out of a compartment in their very patient and accommodating repair bay and leant over the prone form of the teams assassin.

"So... does it hurt when I poke you here..?"

Astrotrain

His sixth sense went alive like fire in the back of his processor. Weirdwolf jerked his paw away from Skullcruncher and prepared to leap back, but the feeling of danger almost immediately passed. Weirdwolf calmed as Skullcruncher began to revert back to his robot mode. His friend had returned to his senses. Good. Weirdwolf also transformed back into robot mode and clapped his good friend on his arm.

“Weirdwolf? What just happened?"

“Decepticons withdrawing from the field aboard Astrotrain we are,” Weirdwolf explained before thinking back to the epic clash with the Fallen. “Aflame and burning with hate the Fallen was. Defeated Sixshot, destroyer of worlds he did, and fates of ours quite grim looked. Constructicons six joined as one to cause some devastation. Aid they did in the shield’s destruction. Descend upon the Fallen did we, freezing his flaming frame to make him cease.”

“The Autobots…” Weirdwolf growled lowly, “Possessed a spark extractor most foul. Plunged it did into the chest of the flaming one. Tore out the darkness in his spark that resided there. Autobots keep it now to dispose of later. Used we were. But victory yet still grand belongs to Decepticons as well as Autobots.”

“Pulled you from where you fell did I,” Weirdwolf said with a pause, before continuing with an angry undertone, “To retrieve your sword you asked of me, and so went I to appease. Autobots lingered still in the way, so made I a plea. Met with insult and insolence was I. Yet with dignity, the sword was won and returned to you did I.”

“Once given, the cruncher of skulls reverted back to a form most primal. Fed a Vehicon to quench your hunger. Now here are we.” Weirdwolf gestured all around them, “Aboard Astrotrain. The kings of beasts and roads concerned were with your primal appetite.”


Australia – Shuttle Longevity – Combat Casualty Care Unit

Rewind could hardly process what was happening. Chromedome whipped his head around so quickly and pulled him into a very gentle embrace. The tiny archivist reached up with one hand and wrapped it as much as he could around Chromedome. He didn’t have the strength to squeeze. It was a struggle just to be moved by Domey.

"It's my fault, this was all my fault! Don't blame yourself, I was the one who thought we could take Hex..." Chromedome pulled away slowly. The cassette reached for his conjunx endura’s hand and tried to shake his head, but that only caused him to wince with pain. Ow. Not a good idea.

“No…” Rewind managed, his voice rather weak. He stared up into the golden visor of his conjunx endure. “Don’t…” The archivist had to pause. It was really quite difficult to speak. And the pain in Chromedome’s face pierced him to the spark. Rewind squeezed Chromedome’s hand in quiet protest.

"I-I almost lost you..."

“Domey…you can’t blame…yourself. Please…?” Rewind looked at Chromedome with reassuring cheer. “You didn’t lose me…right here. So, it’s okay, Domey. It’s…okay.” Rewind fell silent for a long moment, his attention shifting curiously to the video playing back in the corner of his HUD. In it there was…oh. The tiny archivist’s grip on his conjunx endura’s hand tightened slightly as he watched Chromedome’s collapse into grief and then anger. Most of what happened after Chromedome went after Hex was out of frame…but the audio, though not perfect quality, was clear enough to piece together the visuals.

“I…probably don’t say this…enough…but…”

A pause as Rewind looked Chromedome visor-to-visor.

“I love you.”


Australia – Shuttle Longevity – Bridge

Initially, Ratchet looked about as dumbfounded as Blaster felt. Initially. He soon straightened, staring Blaster right in the optic with narrowed ones of his own. Blaster wasn’t really sure what to expect. His processor wasn’t exactly functioning at top capacity right now. But Ratchet reached up and grabbed his upper arms, squeezing them tightly.

“Where?" he growled out.

Ratchet’s equal parts rough and gentle call back to reality was enough to shake Blaster somewhat from his stupor. Blaster looked back at the CMO with a genuine optimistic smile. “Here. Earth. Specifically, in one of the rainforests on this planet,” Blaster explained, removing himself from Ratchet’s grip. He motioned over to the console that he was working from and brought up a map of the planet. A dot blinked in the middle of one of the southern continents, the exact coordinates displayed beside it.

“I’ve done every possible check I can think of but it…Ratchet, I think it’s him. It’s definitely him. I can feel it,” Blaster looked at the medical officer with a grin slowly forming on his faceplate. “I sent an emergency message to Ultra Magnus. He should be here soon! And then we can go…we can go get Optimus!” Blaster was almost hesitant to say the name aloud. It felt…like it would jinx things.

Astrotrain

Darkfire had been vaguely aware of her surroundings as they had been moving. Which was both a blessing and a curse. Meant that she could still feel a good bit of pain, but also meant that she would know if something was amiss, and she needed to power through it. Fortunately for her, the experience had been relatively uneventful. There was a bit of a commotion, but it was all shouting and such. Nothing that sounded like them being shot out of the sky.

It was when she heard Psychout’s voice nearby that she actually tried to focus on anything. Namely, her petite leader.

"So...”

Oh Primus.

”… does it hurt when I poke you here..?"

A lightning bolt of pain shot through Darkfire’s prone form. She tilted her head up and gave Psychout a rather pointed deadpan glare. “Yes,” she said flatly. She glanced over to Crueljaw and Thrust having their little altercation. “I see the situation is normal. We’re aboard Astrotrain, yeah? What did Thrust do to earn our muscle’s ire?”


En Route to Shuttle Longevity

"Hey I got worried myself up there!" Jazz replied with his usual charisma, "I've done some dangerous missions here and into the next cycle, but never have I had to go servo-to-servo with anything like that!"

“Fighting a demi-god? I would say not, heh,” Skids chuckled. “That certainly was a once in a lifetime experience, why I-“

"Say what you will..." Getaway chimed in, "I had a good time with this endeavor. Not everyday you can say you managed to walk away from a ruddy demi-god."

“…Yes.” Skids merely shrugged and listened intently as Ultra Magnus instructed Jazz to review the treaties regarding first contact. His optics lit up. He, of course, had already reviewed them, and having done that, by nature of his ‘special gift’, allowed him to retain practically every word of it. Skids opened his mouth to volunteer his assistance when Getaway spoke up once more.

"Yeah have fun with that, Jazz. I'll fight alongside you lot here, but not in the library. I've got a walking one right here." The escape artist said with a point of his thumb towards Skids. "Actually he could probably give you the sparknotes version." *bomp*

“Stop that,” Skids grumbled as the bomp connected with the underside of his chin.

"Hey hey, no need to go make it easy on me now." The specialist joked, "Besides, a brief sit down at my desk could be relaxing. Kick back, play some of my tunes, and just unwind from this literal hell of a battle."

“Well, if you want a bulleted list of the many statutes, let me know, Jazz. Though if we’re looking for loopholes, then I do suggest the full text,” Skids commented as they made their way. “Wait a second…” Skids leaned in close to Getaway. “Do you think Ultra Magnus intends to…’go around’ the First Contact treaties?”

Astrotrain

“I’m sooooo boooooooooooored!" his fellow Stunticon brother said, placing an odly brotherly arm around his shoulder, as if their sparks had been found in the exact same cavern or something. What was with the newfound camaraderie?

Wait...

Breakdown knew better. This was some kind of setup to try and get him to do something stupid so Wildy could watch him get busted by the Big M...well, the other "Big M"...and laugh all the way back to the CR chamber. Nah. Not having it.

"Are you-gah, glitched? I mean we-we just fought a demigod and you're bored already? You need professional help Wildy."
___

Shockwave's motionless form remained do, even as Psychout's diminutive form careened atop him for a brief moment.

"Apologies, Commander," he had said, before moving on to continue with the particulars of his function. His unit appeared to have remained in satisfactory working condition. That was sufficient. As they had indeed survived the extinction event brought on by the Fallen, it would be necessary to take stock of their losses and refocus on those agendas that had been in place previously--such as the continuing advancement of their infiltration protocols.

>>"Imperative: we will assess infiltration phases upon boarding of the Thanatos. I will update your unit's mission prerogatives at that time,"<< the Decepticon scientist transmitted directly to Psychout. Granted, their new Supreme Commander might have other objectives in mind. In some respects, Shockwave would simply have to wait and see what sort of directives their new leader chose to pursue.

He could adapt his own objectives--as well as his assessments of their current leadership situation--accordingly.

En-route to Longevity

Jetfire flew close to Ultra Magnus and listen to the chatter from the ground units. It seemed their spirits were trying to recover from what had happen. Taking on such a huge threat and seeing the new weapon Devestator would make any sensible mech uneasy.

"Ultra Magnus, I've pondered on who had created Devestator. There are only a very few mechanoids who possess the capabilities of such magnitude. Shockwave is the first on the list while Starscream is intelligent and ambitious enough but I doubt my old friend would have the time. Then it could be the Constructicons themselves. This could also be a plan set in motion by Megatron before his disappearance and only recently completed. For some it matters little who made the monstrosity but for me knowing who designed it will help figuring out how it works in order to defeat it. I'm betting the cannons on the Ark-22 could take it out but it probably take too long to position the ship and weapons. Devestator might not be exactly fast compared to the standard Cybertonian but I'm betting it could move out of the way of the blast from space. Another possible weapon is to make a slightly more mobile cannon but power usage would be problematic as well as moving the weapon. Third option and one which I abhor for the time being is to some how duplicate the procedure with some of the Autobots. For those who know their ancient history, this should bring up the idea of Monstructor which was a horrible failure. The smartest idea is to find the weak spot in the proverbial armor of this new gestalt. There might be an actual weak spot in the armor but I wonder if the solution is more mental than anything else. One thing I am wanting to do is to look at all of the scans of every Autobot who got remotely close to the thing and see what our collective read outs came up with and if anything would be useful."

Jetfire realized he went back to his old habits of rambling on about scientific stuff. Most Autobots, except his fellow scientists, ignored his ramblings. Times like these he wished he had the likes of Brainstorm or Chromedome to bounce ideas off of but all he got is Wheeljack, Ratchet, and Ironfist.

"Sorry for the rambling, sir. I can be a transport if need to be if there is not enough room on the two shuttles. I'll also be air support even though by the looks of it vast majority of the Cons had left on Astrotrain. One never knows if a stray Con decided to stick around to pick one of us off for the fun of it."

Shuttle Longevity: Passenger Cabin

A crisp blue green arch of energy danced across the wide gash that traced itself from the break between the shoulder blades to the small of the torso, offering a ghastly shadow over the rent blue armor. Vibrant traces of drying energon and lubricants slowly splashed streams of gore at the very edges of the wound, further offering external illusion to the possible grimness of the injury that had befell the lone Autobot Ranger that had been assigned to Earth. Shards of sandstone and dust left a trail upon the loading ramp, a path that slowly advanced towards the cabin of the combat shuttle known as Longevity.

A loud sonic boom sent a concussion wave up the ramp like a funnel, amplifying it and focusing it into a thick nearly physical instrument of blunt trauma. As Nova Strike, already wounded by his valiant effort in saving a small computer specialist, attempted to rest and recover before he made his final push into the shuttle's interior, the concussive wave slammed into him with the force of a freight train. A spray of crusted lubricants decorated the hatch and the surrounding walls. Nova Strike fell forward into a sprawling heap.

He spat a gob of dislodged coagulant onto the deck drain as he pulled himself up to his feet. "Damn bastard," he protested as his internal repair systems attempted to once again restore his gyroscopic stabilizers. Nova Strike pressed the activation toggle switch to hatch that separated the lower cargo hold and the passenger cabin and waited briefly as the thick metal door retracted into the left bulkhead. "I get my hands on that loud blowhard seeker, I am going to personally feed him his intake port."

Slowly and deliberately he crossed the threshold and made his way to the first open seat across from the old veteran Kup and Bumblebee. Nova Strike's optics carefully scanned those who currently inhabited the Passenger Cabin of the shuttle. He took note of the various dents, rents and carbon scores that peppered their armor plates, though few cases were worse than others. To the side and down a shallow hall, the groans of the medical care unit permeated the recycled atmosphere. Nova decided that his injuries were, while garish and looked nasty by comparison to others, his care could wait till Ratchet or Axel were in better positions. Instead he determined that rest was perhaps the best option while he waited his turn on board the recent tomb ship Guardian.

Thus carefully and gingerly he took up a seat on the open chair. Once settled the ranger carefully leaned back and folded his dented arms over his chest as another arch of energy sparked between his back and the chair, sending a small waft of smoke into the air. The acrid smell of burnt plastics slowly intermingled with the smoke before the over taxed repair systems finally began to succeed in rendering severed circuits powerless.

"Taking it to them does not appear to be one of those sorts of initiatives well seem to be excelling at these days old timer." Nova Strike had caught much of the initial conversation after the concussive sonic burst had sent him flying. Though there were details that he had probably missed in the offings. Still Nova Strike was not so green as to demand a renewed battle so soon after getting their collective crank shafts handed to them. "So far as I've seen, command on this world has been more interested in reacting rather than being proactive when it comes to this planet's infestation."

Nova Strike had respect for Kup, most Autobots who had served as long as the old mech had... well face it there weren't many. Still, during the early onset of the civil war, Nova had on occasion served in a unit or two with Kup as the squad leader. The ranger learned much during those brief encounters, which had kept him functional all these cycles, and was grateful that he had been assigned to this sector as a reinforcement unit. Well grateful was a strong description, he was tolerant of the assignment because two of his primary mentors were here. Kup and the mechanism who had recruited him as the first volley of weapons were unleashed, Jazz.

"Still, the fact that we are functional is a positive. From what I could tell, the Decepticons lost at least sixty percent of their vehicon forces during their assault... maybe less maybe more. But regardless, it was a large enough number that it will put the kibosh on their more aggressive tactics for a few cycles."

Australia - En Route to Shuttle Longevity

The spark extractor was destroyed. Good riddance. Wheeljack couldn’t be happier. That device was an abomination that should never have been created in the first place. Although, truth be told, it had saved the Cybertronian race, and perhaps the universe, from extinction. It was instrumental in defeating the Fallen and rescuing Hot Rod in the process. So, it really wasn’t all bad, but it wasn’t all good, either. In the wrong hands it would spell certain doom for countless innocent mechs in this Primus-forsaken war. And just as the inventor had feared, the Decepticons wanted the extractor for themselves. Well, now no one had it and hopefully it would never be recreated. Prowl could beg all he wanted. The engineer had no intention of building another one. Ever.

After dragging himself out of the combat trench on top of Ayers Rock, Wheeljack received the communique from Ultra Magnus and quickly headed down one of the hiking trails that lead to the base of the rock formation. He had considered just bouncing back up to the Ark-22, but ‘Jack then remembered that both Tracer and Smokescreen were currently in the Longevity and it was important for him to check on them first. After all, the mad scientist had recently built the rallybot a new body and gave the troubled femme the means to satisfy her Syk addition. He had to be sure they were both all right. The engineer had taken on that responsibility, and he needed to see it through.

Once Wheeljack had reached the bottom of the mountain he assumed his New Stratos alt mode and headed directly for the Longevity. It was a bit difficult driving across the uneven ground and through the sand, but the inventor managed. The shuttle was only about a mile away from Ayers Rock. Thus, it wouldn’t take too long for ‘Jack to traverse the distance even over the rough terrain.

Australia - Autobot Shuttle Longevity - Combat Casualty Care Unit

Smokescreen breathed a sigh of relief when Tracer grabbed the IV stand and lifted it off of him. “Thanks,” the rallybot whispered as the troubled femme took hold of his one remaining hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She sat on the edge of his med slab and began speaking of Veneer. Smokey had asked her about him before, and he now listened with great interest, trying not to doze off from the various medications coursing through his systems. The diversion expert simply kept his optics focused on her as she talked about the nurse and how even though many complained about his bed side manner, they always came back to thank him for fixing them.

The rallybot felt Tracer caress his chevron, all the while continuing to speak of Veneer. Her smile was as infectious as the nurse’s reported optimism, causing Smokescreen to crack a weak smile back at the drug-addled scout. She squeezed his hand tighter as she spoke of Veneer’s friendship with Blindside and how they became as close as they are. Contrary to what many may assume, they were not conjunx endurae. Although, in Tracer’s opinion, they should be. They exhibited all the signs of such a relationship, but alas and surprisingly that was not the case.

“I don’t have *cough* one of those. Conjunx Endura, I mean,” Smokescreen muttered softly as he looked up at Tracer. “At least *cough cough* I don’t think I do. Not yet, anyway *cough*.” The rallybot’s smile widened as he used whatever strength he had left in him to squeeze the troubled femme’s hand a little harder. She likely couldn’t feel it, though, as weak as he was. However, it didn’t really matter as she was well aware of how much he cared about her. She was not his conjunx endura, and he had never even considered having one until she just mentioned it in regards of Veneer and Blindside. Still, it would make perfect sense with them considering how close they were regardless of all the vorns they had spent apart until she arrived in the Sol System on the Guardian.

“I wonder, in all those years *cough cough* that we were separated,” Smokescreen began as a coughing fit quickly took hold of him. After about a minute or so it passed and the diversion expert was able to refocus on the femme by his side. “In all that time, did you ever meet someone, Trace? Did you ever *cough* have a conjunx endura?”
____________

Approaching the entrance ramp to the Longevity, Wheeljack transformed back into his robot mode and ascended into the shuttle. He immediately made a beeline to the Combat Care Unit where he was sure both Smokescreen and Tracer would be waiting. Upon entering the facility, the engineer looked around to see a plethora of activity as medical drones and medics alike worked tirelessly on the injured while others, who were not as badly damaged, loitered about waiting for a CR chamber to become available. Howlstrike was one such mech, sitting across from a CR unit patiently waiting his turn. Of course, ‘Jack had no idea that the former Predacon was simply waiting to see Bluestreak’s reaction to a prank Howl had played on him. It was for the best, really. No need for the engineer to get in the middle of that upcoming confrontation.

Moving his attention away from the Autobot tracker, Wheeljack finally spotted Smokescreen and Tracer on the opposite side of the room. Making his way over to them, the inventor slowly began to realize that at least one of them had not come out of this conflict unscathed. In fact, the diversion expert almost appeared to be on death’s door and missing half a limb! “Really?!” The mechanical engineer exclaimed as he stopped next to Smokey’s med slab and looked down at the duo. “I just built you that body and look what you’ve done to it!” It was already common knowledge that Smokey had had a run-in with cosmic rust a while ago, even though that was a lie concocted to hide the truth. However, no one else, except for Axle, knew that it wasn’t true and thus ‘Jack had no problem mentioning the rallybot’s new body out loud.

“Oh, hey, Jackie,” Smokescreen responded in a low tone, looking up at him. “Yeah, well *cough cough* at least it’s just the arm this time. Heh.”

Wheeljack shook his cranium before placing his face into the palm of his hand. “I swear you two are going to be the death of me,” the mad scientist said before turning his attention over to Tracer, opening a secured private comm link with her. While most knew of Smokescreen’s new body, they did not know about the femme's addiction to Syk.

>>“And what about you? Feeling okay? Any withdrawal symptoms or other issues I should be aware of?”<<

Combat Shuttle Longevity

Magnus stopped his approach at the base of the boarding gangplank and allowed his optics to slowly examine the exterior of his vessel. Slowly and deliberately he placed a battle scarred had upon the massive hydraulic piston responsible for raising and lowering the ramp. Sounds of conversation gently wafted down from the higher decks. Muted words came from the Combat Casualty Care Unit, recognizable voices of Wheeljack and Smokescreen were registered though the contents of their discussion was lost in the over laying din.

"Jetfire," he paused briefly, holding up his free hand to stop the towering scientist. "Judging by the reaction of Razorclaw and others on the summit, I think it is safe to assume that the Devastator Project was decidedly off the books."

Ultra Magnus dropped his hand to his side and turned to face him as Jazz and the others began their final approach to the shuttle. "I am willing to play a small gambit in saying that Shockwave is probably as surprised as those others..." He placed a thumb and fore finger at the base of his chin. The mentioning of Monstructor almost sent a shiver through his primary struts. While he himself had not witnessed the titanic clash between the legendary Omega Supreme and the monstrosity known as Monstructor, Magnus had spent many a day in the aftermath studying reports and the court proceedings that followed. The council had condemned Jhaixus's actions, not only for the effect it caused and the lives lost, but the very audacity in engineering a cybernetic war machine. There was no denying the near incomprehensible power that Monstructor held within its mottled amalgamated body.

"You have invested a great deal of thought into the rather recent technological development Jetfire," He let his arm drop to his side again. "Guess that settles it. I want you to assemble a five member team and devote as many resources as are available to deciphering every single scan that was made of Devastator, as well as the ancient logs regarding Jhaixus's work. When I arrive back on the Guardian or Ark, I will grant you and your team access to those secured files."

He placed a step on the ramp. "Do not just look for weaknesses Jetfire. Find a way to make an effective counter. Reproduce it if possible." Ultra Magnus looked away, almost as if he was ashamed of giving the unenviable assignment to the colossal scientist. "We can no longer stay petrified in ancient abhorrence. You can bet, now that the techno genie has been released from its container, Razorclaw will attempt to exploit it. I don't want strict counter measures Jetfire. We require a titan that can effectively stop Devastator in its tracks... Superior to the original designs."

Ultra Magnus allowed his words to rest heavily onto the four mecha that gathered at the base of the gangplank. He began to walk up towards the bridge as Scoop fell in line behind him. "I expect a full report and proposal for Superior Titan on my desk by the end of the planetary rotation." With that the Autobot general disappeared to the next level and headed towards the bridge.
_____________

Shuttle Longevity: Cockpit

Magnus activated the control locks to the cockpit and allowed the doors to slide back into the bulkhead, exposing Blaster and Ratchet. He waited for Jazz and Scoop to take up positions at the rear of the cockpit, it being barely capable of handling six full sized Autobots. He made his way to the central chair and allowed a few minor groans of his joints to echo through the confined space, evidence that he nor his armor were ready for battle. Quietly he depressed a small switch at the edge of the command chair and allowed the panels in the sides and ceiling to open and send down several robotic arms that began to clasp around the rent apex armor components. "Blaster, what is this emergency you had that was so urgent for my return?"

As the first set of damaged blue and red components receded into the various ports for automated repair, the crisp and polished white armor... a ghostly image of his missing brother, was revealed. Ultra Magnus glanced to his left to the polished image of his armorless face, Optimus... He forced the memory from his mind. Even if Optimus were here and faced with these obstacles Magnus was certain he would do the same. The fact was, the entire events of the day had left a sour taste in Ultra Magnus's processors.

Shuttle Longevity--Cabin

"Taking it to them does not appear to be one of those sorts of initiatives well seem to be excelling at these days old timer. So far as I've seen, command on this world has been more interested in reacting rather than being proactive when it comes to this planet's infestation."

"Yeh? Well, Autobots ain't supposed to be the aggressors, kid. We defend. It's what Optimus Prime always did. As for Autobot Command, what they're interested in is keeping another Decepticon flag from being raised on another sentient world. I may not agree with everything they're doin', but that's why I ain't in charge either. That said I don't see one of those purple masks here yet. So try'n keep yer pessimisms in perspective."
___

Astrotrain

There were any number of ways that little affair could have gone down. Razorclaw wanted things handled a little more delicately than Onslaught likely would have bothered with, but the end result had been the same and now Hook would be effectively isolated from the rest of his unit until the proper work could be done: both securing Scrapper's allegiance and discovering everything they could about this behemoth they had created.

Onslaught's gaze left Razorclaw and the Constructicons and he walked quietly to one of the Decepticon triple-changers bay windows, peering outside. They would be aboard the Thanatos again soon. And then the real work of ruling this empire would begin in earnest.

Combat Shuttle Longevity

Before Jetfire could process what Ultra Magnus had said, the Autobot commander strolled onto the large shuttle. The Longevity was quite large for a shuttle and almost the size of a small starcraft Jetfire still be a very tight squeeze to get in and other Autobots needed to board. He hoped Magnus realized this discussion wasn't quite done but with the orders to draw up a plan at the end of the planetary rotation left little time for proper continuation. These are the times he enjoyed the presence of his fellow scientist whom most didn't make rush decisions. Instead of making a formal protest, Jetfire took out a pad from his side. For him it wasn't too abnormal to have such things in case a great idea came to his processor and he was a bit distracted to properly sort through it. The pad was also a good way to share his idea with others.

"Another combiner, gestalt, or super robot will cause even more damage. Devestator and Monstructor are prime examples as to why it should never be done. As much as I hate to agree with Magnus, he is probably right about Razorclaw trying to get the Constructicons to spill the information on how they done it. This is almost borderline insanity but considering what we just faced, maybe we all were a bit out of sync in our processors. I guess it is time to list the dangers of this procedure."

Dangers
1. The mass destruction of surrounding environment when gestalt is combined.
2. The affects on whoever is selected to be a part of this process in spark, processor and body.
3. Stigma from other Autobots who abhor the idea of literally merging others together.
4. Controlling the creation once done.


Possible Requirements
1. Similar personalities
2. Long term cooperation
3. Similar general functions
4. Willingness for the operation
5. Training grounds and weapons for the creation.

Needed expertise
1. Rossum Trinity knowledge
2. Personality make up
3. Broad range planner
4. Weapon's designer

"I know there will be more to this list once I gain access to those files. It still surprises me and yet looking forward to the challenge of this project. As a scientist I should enjoy exploring new or recently revived areas and yet this one scares me. It is as if the past is coming back to haunt us. I have to wonder if some other mythical entity will visit us to say we are all dumb and deserve to die. We've made Cybertonians before but not in this way except now two occasions. Too bad Omega Supreme isn't here so he could take care of Devestator like he did Monstructor."

((OOC~All postings aboard Astrotrain can now take place over in the Thanatos thread located in the Solar System forum. Autobots can continue as you are until you see a similar notification.))

Autobot Shuttle Longevity – Cockpit

"Blaster, what is this emergency you had that was so urgent for my return?"

“Magnus!” Blaster’s optics flicked from Ratchet to Ultra Magnus with something of an idiotic grin now plastered on his faceplate. “I found him! Optimus!” Blaster hurried over to the terminal that he had been working from and pulled up Optimus’s signal on the screen. “He’s here…He’s alive…”

Blaster whirled about to face Ultra Magnus. “We have to go grab Prime now! Who knows what condition he’s in! And why he’s…so far from where he and Megatron disappeared…”

Longevity

Ironhide was looking around, seeing the battle-worn faces. It seemed that every Autobot was relieved that this conflict was over, even if the Decepticons got away. Again. As he walked around the different areas of Longevity, he saw a lot of different bots. Some he knew, some he didn't. But for some reason he felt no real connection to any of them. They were all younger, had a different look on this war, and life in general. All of a sudden, Ironhide felt old. He tried to find a place to rest for the time being, when he spotted a familiar face. He got a slight smile on his face. No matter how old you are, he thought, there's always someone older.

"Well, look who it is!" he said as he walked up to Kup. "I thought they left all the scrap on the ground! There's barely enough room for us as it is!"

Shuttle Longevity - Cockpit

Jazz followed behind Magnus as the bulking mech entered the shuttle, though while the city commander stood by the ramp to discuss matters with Jetfire, Jazz continued forward into the ship. He walked alongside the various Autobots gathered in the passenger cabins. He noted Ironhide striking up a conversation with Kup, the two old timers probably recollecting on ancient war stories or how they held up in the fight against the demigod and his heralds. Following them sat Nova Strike, a younger mech the black and white specialist mentor during the earlier days of the war. Jazz recalled seeing his former pupil pulling a crazed stunt earlier in the fight against the Fallen, though more crazier things followed that so the details were a tad spotty at best. He made a note to check up on the ranger once this business with Blaster was dealt with.

-

"Well if it isn't the master music caster himself!" Jazz exclaimed as he entered the Longevity's cockpit and spotted his fellow music enthusiast in red armor. He turned his head to spot that Blaster wasn't the only mech in the room as Ratchet was standing close by as well. "Hey! Good to see you too Doc'!" Jazz's reunion with his fellow Autobots was soon dismayed as Ultra Magnus returned from his conversation with Jetfire and asked the communications officer what was with the urgency.

“I found him! Optimus! ... He’s here…He’s alive…"

Jazz's usual smirk was soon replaced with a rarely used stoic expression as the news flooded his processor. The name "Optimus" and the word "alive" echoed constantly in his processor as he tried to connect the two. How could this be? There was no sign from the big guy for nearly a month in Earth's time, and now he just shows up out of the blue? This had to be a trick, some trick employed by the Decepticons for... For... For whatever reason they had! Still... It was the real deal, Optimus was far away from where he originally had disappeared from.

"We have to go grab Prime now! Who knows what condition he’s in! And why he’s…so far from where he and Megatron disappeared…"

Blaster's words echoed Jazz's own thoughts as the communications officer explained to Magnus. Jazz folded one arm over his chest while he brought his open hand around his chin strut, his mouth now resting along the edge of his index digit's first knuckle.

"Blaster's right, we have to send a recovery team out now, Magnus." The special operations director reiterated as he folded his other arm over his chest. "Even if it's a hoax, we should at least send a small team to investigate the signal. I mean, we don't even know if the Con's have picked up on this yet... but with their air superiority they could beat us there if we don't get our afts in gear."

The black and white Autobot let the thought linger in the air for a moment while he studied the terminal's readout in front of Blaster. His processor was buzzing with counter argumentative thoughts while he maintained his usual cool on the outside. Jazz had offered his two shannix to the pile, Primus only knows how Magnus was taking the news.

Combat Shuttle Longevity: Bridge

A pair of mechanical hands reached down from the ceiling compartment. The three digit instruments spun slowly as they descended down to the left leg of the mechanism that inhabited the center chair. With the deftness of a trained surgical engineer, the first had pulled a large shard of obsidian from the battered armor component that made up the Apex Armor's leg assembly. The second proceeded to disengage the sequential magnetic locks that held the armor in place so it would be easier when the time came for its eventual removal.

As the near silent motors went about their business, Magnus could swear he could hear every single mechanism's proverbial jaw drop when an overly excited Blaster made his rather stunning announcement. "Calm down Blaster." It was the first words he was able to comprehend and articulate. Truth be told, Ultra Magnus never doubted that Optimus had survived the catastrophe that had lead to his current disappearance and listing as Missing in Action. What had happened was still a mystery, one that no one had been given the proper opportunity to investigate fully. Still, Magnus knew... even without a single shred of evidence to support it, he just knew his brother was still alive.

But he could not allow false hopes to cloud judgement. Even with the massive build up and deployment of units to the battlefield, both sides had kept some personnel in reserve. For Magnus it had been a simple precaution to keep those who were not oriented towards combat out of harms way. He had kept most of his medics out of the direct line of fire, using only the Protectobots and Ratchet... and they were assigned strictly to the rear guard on board the very vessel he currently sat in command. But Razorclaw, there was no way to truly tell why he held units in reserve. The truce they had forged had been out of necessity, and while Magnus would have hoped it would have extended beyond the task that necessitated it...

That meant there were unaccounted for units that could have easily been dispatched on other missions before the Battle of Ayers Rock. As the options and counter options spun before Ultra Magnus's internal vision, the screen began to fluctuate before stabilizing again. "No," he finally said. "Perhaps calming down is not what is needed. Jazz is correct, this could very well be a trap by one of Razorclaw's less than trustworthy cohorts. Lull a few hero blind Autobots with a false signal, then eradicate them as soon as they are too far into the web to effect any meaningful escape."

Ultra Magnus leaned forward, his white metallic armored skin now glinting pristine in the light from the overhead lamps. "But, you are also correct, we cannot ignore this."

Almost immediately he glanced over his shoulder to the most functional command level officer he had left. "Jazz, assemble an investigation team. Its a pretty big area so I suspect you'll need a good scout and scientist familiar with the topography of the region. And given that this could very well be a trap, take a few heavy hitters with you as an escort, a someone capable of mitigating some of that previously mentioned Air Superiority should be included. Scoop can serve as your field medic should the need arise."

He looked back at Ratchet and gave a nod. It was obvious the old tool and dyer would practically jump at the chance to get to Optimus's side. They were old friends, since the beginning of the conflict. Personally, Magnus did not want Ratchet heading off towards this region of the planet. Not because he feared for the doctor's safety... far from it, if any Decepticon decided to get between him and Optimus, Primus help them. But he was far more concerned with the well being of Hot Rod and the others who had suffered during the battle.

Magnus looked back to Jazz. "I will put Springer's trio on standby as well. Given they were on the forefront of the battle, they could use the extra attention and repairs right now before being redeployed."

The last fragment of the damaged Apex Armor disappeared into the bulkhead beneath the deck. He stood up and towered over Jazz and the others. "And one more thing Jazz. If this signal is legitimate... You had better bring Optimus home. If it isn't, then I want who ever is responsible for the poorly thought out plot... educated politely in proper manners."

Australia – Shuttle Longevity – Combat Casualty Care Unit

The blue and white femme stared down at the rallybot by her side, a small gentle smile gracing her soft features. She felt a weak tightening on her grip and gave a light squeeze in response. Through his coughs Tracer listened patiently.

“You’re not sure?” Tracer shook her head lightly and chuckled. “I don’t think it’s that hard to know if you’ve got one or not.”

Her smile faltered slightly as she took another glance in Veneer's direction. The nurse had always changed the subject when asked about how close he and Blindside had gotten. He’d always say, “We care for each other as everyone should.” But he’d never admit just how deeply he cared.

Tracer let out a low sigh as she returned her full attention back onto Smokescreen.

At his latest query Tracer was at a loss. In all the time they’d been apart had she found a Conjunx Endura.

And if on cue Wheeljack arrived, and none too happy as a matter of fact. One really couldn’t blame him for being slightly ticked off. He was the one who had built Smokescreen his current body.

She patted the rallybot's shoulder ensuring him that she’d be there if the engineer decided to go on some kind of ranting reprimand.

Instead she was surprised to get a private communique from said engineer.

>>”The synthetic version doesn’t even last half as long. I had to take a second dose, but…”<< Tracer met ‘Jack’s gaze, her expression desperate.

>>”It’s starting to wear off too.”<< She turned her attention back to the ailing diversionary tactician, the back of her hand lightly brushing over the chevron adorning his forehead. >>”Right now, however, I’m more concerned about him.”<<

As she finished her private conversation she refocused on Smokescreen. “In all the time we’d been apart I never even tried to fine anyone.” Tracer smiled and then she leaned down.

“I was waiting for the right person to show up.” Her smile broadened, but only for a moment before she leaned down further and kissed his forehead lightly.

Longevity – Bridge

“Here. Earth. Specifically, in one of the rainforests on this planet," Blaster had explained.

Ratchet stared hard while Blaster explained everything to him. Prime, their Prime, was back. His dear friend was found. The CMO's mind was racing. Thoughts and questions swirled, and although his optics and audios were focused and tuned into everything the Voice was feeding him, Ratchet remained entranced on Optimus.

“I’ve done every possible check I can think of but it…Ratchet, I think it’s him. It’s definitely him. I can feel it,"

Without him ever registering the movement, Blaster had removed himself from Ratchet's grip and stepped back to the console he’d been working at. He bought up all of the information he’d obtained and Ratchet stepped closer.

“I sent an emergency message to Ultra Magnus. He should be here soon! And then we can go…we can go get Optimus!"

Good that meant the CMO could speak with interim commander about the situation.

And as if on cue in walked said mech. Jazz's arrival was quick to follow. And for the second time Blaster relayed the information pertaining to their beloved Prime.

"Blaster, what is this emergency you had that was so urgent for my return?" Magnus asked of the communications officer. Jazz had just joined the group, cheerful as ever, "Hey! Good to see you too Doc'!" For his part Ratchet simply offered a grunt and a nod.

Blaster then cut in and explained what had happened. Jazz followed up agreeing with Blaster’s suggestion of retrieving Prime as quickly as possible.

“I’m going. If he’s hurt he’ll need medical attention. He’ll need to be stable before he’s moved. So I’m going.” Ratchet crossed his arm defiantly over his chestplate. “Remember, I call the shots when it comes to the health of every single one of these mechs. And that goes for Optimus as well.”

Longevity--Cabin

"Well, look who it is! I thought they left all the scrap on the ground! There's barely enough room for us as it is!" a familiar voice cut through the chatter of all the rooks.

"Aw, geez," Kup chuckled. "I figured that big, neon-green monster stepped on ya. Coulda swore I saw red paint all over one of its feet, heh heh."

Kup reached into his arm compartment and retrieved his spare cy-gar, handing it over to Ironhide before recharging his own with a few choice nitrates.

"Yeh. They packed this thing pretty full. But I figure it's better'n the alternative, heh. Demigods. Pfeh. Who'da thunk it? I wasn't too sure any of us were gonna walk away from that one."

Ironhide looked at Kup and the cy-gar with amusement.

"Seriously?" he asked. "Yer gonna give me one of them things even after our brush with death up there?"

He sat down next to Kup.

"No thanks." he said with a slight smile. "Ya know how I feel about them."

He looked around at some of the others, and then back at Kup.

"An' that big green an' purple idiot would have ta combine a lot sooner ta get me under its foot." he glanced at the lit cy-gar in Kup's mouth. "I ain't got a substance abuse problem holdin' me back."

He then looked back at the others around them.

"Hey!" he said loudly, and pointed at Kup. "All ya youngin's listen up! If yer thinkin' about takin' up a cy-gar habit, just look over here! Do ya really want ta end up lookin' like this when yer a couple hundred million years old?!"

Australia - Shuttle Longevity - Combat Casualty Care Unit

Wheeljack squinted his optics at Tracer as she spoke via their private comm line. The synthetic Syk wasn’t working as well as he had hoped, and it was apparently already wearing off. Of course, she wasn’t worried about that. The troubled femme was more concerned about her lover bot, Smokescreen, then her own well being. That was all well and good, but if she completely relapsed before she was able to get another dose from the replicator, then the other mechs on board the Longevity would know that there was something seriously wrong with her. Time was of the essence here.

The mechanical engineer let out a deep sigh. >>”All right, Tracer. We should be back on board the Ark soon. Once you are there you need to go directly to my lab and take another dose. Smokey will be fine for a few breems without you. You need to take care of yourself. Maybe take two doses at once and see if that works better. Understood?”<<

The inventor then maneuvered around the drug-addled femme and knelt down at the head of the diversion expert’s medical slab where he began to check Smokescreen’s vitals. “Everything looks okay here. He’s stable,” Wheeljack confirmed as he looked back at Tracer. “You have nothing to worry about. Smokey will be just fine.” The white mech then glanced down at the rallybot. “You’re going to live, Smokes.”

Smokescreen carefully tilted his head back to see Wheeljack’s visage staring down at him. “Thanks, Doctor Jackie! I’d give you *cough cough* a thumbs up, but Tracer’s holding my only good hand. *cough* Ha!” The plethora of pain meds were clearly working well now. The rallybot seemed to be in much less pain and more jovial than before.

The red and blue racer let out another chuckle before looking back at the troubled femme. Her prior comment was correct. He would know if he had a conjunx endura. He didn’t. In fact, he had never even come close during their time apart. "You're right. *cough* I'm sure I don't have one," Smokescreen said before listening intently as Tracer told him that she had not tried to find a conjunx endura for herself, either. Apparently, she was waiting for just the right person to show up. That revelation brought a great sense of relief to the rallybot and was then followed by a gentle kiss to his forehead. Smokey smiled widely at the gesture as he continued to hold her hand tightly. “So, is your wait over yet? Has the right mech *cough* finally shown up?”

“Oh dear Primus. I think you two need to get a room or something,” Wheeljack suggested as he rolled his optics at the display of affection. He remained where he was to ensure that his two patients, especially Tracer, didn’t take a sudden turn for the worse. Although, 'Jack may need a bucket for himself just in case he purged his tanks.

Shuttle Longevity: Cockpit

Ultra Magnus paced his way over to the empty sciences station along the furthest port side of the shuttle craft. Quietly he placed an absent hand along the console controls to bring them to life. As the system booted, he turned his attention to the out burst that had demanded inclusion into the rescue operation. Three green bands of text slowly began to appear on the screen, giving the Autobots a quick glimpse of the natural surroundings within sensor range. He tapped a few basic commands to spread the passive sensors range to include low orbit and began following the transit of the two Autobot vessels as they began moving to opposite sides of the planet, away from the Decepticon task force. Once satisfied that the two ships were underway, Magnus put the terminal on automation and turned his attention back to Blaster, Scoop, Jazz and Ratchet.

It was an expected interjection by infamous Chief Medical Officer, so much so that Magnus had already considered as many angles as reasonably possible to reject the notion of putting him in further harms way. He considered the possible condition of Hot Rod and the others who had suffered at the hands of The Fallen's spark as priority, even to the recovery of a beloved leader and brother. But Magnus also knew that the medical staffs on either vessel were masters of their crafts and could easily do without the cantankerous CMO looking over their actuators. And what if Optimus had suffered a debilitating injury. Scoop was an adequate field medic, but if it was anything critical or life threatening, to have a true medical expert was... well logical.

"Very well," Ultra Magnus said at length. "Ratchet, I won't try to dissuade you as you know the medical teams in orbit better than I, if you believe that they can handle the critical conditions of Hot Rod and the others, then I concede. Just come back in one piece."

He looked back solely at Jazz this time. "Go Jazz, bring our lost Prime home. That is a direct unrelenting and unequivocal order."

Passenger Cabin

Nova Strike rubbed a dented brace of armor in the small of his back. A surge of pain shot through the rent before his internal systems once again forced another redirection of power and sensor readings. Slowly, barely concealing a grimace, Nova leaned back once again into his seat. "I don't know if I call your assessment as a success Kup." He began as he carefully chose his words. "The Decepticons seem to be pushing in at a great many sides. And while their banners don't fly over our heads currently, their flags loom large over many inhabited worlds out there. I know, I've been to a few of them..." He stopped briefly.

Raising his hand to wave off the rest of that line of thought, black marks needed to remain even after so long since events had transpired. "At any rate... So long as those cons have their flagship somewhere in system, we are in danger of seeing our efforts obliterated at a single whim of their rather flippant new governance system." He let his arm rest on the small divider that separated his seat from the next. "Hate to say it Kup, if we want to finally get some ground to sue for any sort of peace with our sundered cousins... we need to kick them straight in the exhaust ports and bring them to the table."

Serenity: Cockpit

Slingshot grumbled quietly to himself as he toggled yet another one of the switches required to complete the pre-flight check list. As the Aerialbot finished the final set of checks, the small auxiliary craft's reactor was ignited and power was drawn to the furthest extremities of the vessel. Lights flared across the small cockpit and from behind in the small passenger cabin. The computers instantly took control of the first in a wave of diagnostics designed to detect potential external or internal tampering.

As the computer went about its final checks, Slingshot leaned back in the forward chair at the vessel's helm and allowed his optics to bore holes into the view port and more importantly towards the large combat corvette Longevity. While he did not particularly care one way or the other what the future held in store for those on board that particular ship, the Aerialbot sharpshooter felt a small bit of regret that he had not been more... perhaps vital was too strong a term. The fact was, Slingshot had delivered nearly a ton of ordinance onto the Fallen, unwittingly joining so many others in strengthening and prolonging the defiance of the twisted monstrosity. He had also been responsible for destroying two rock titans and at least three burning ember monsters with his fire suppression armaments. "But in the end, it wasn't enough... was it?" He asked aloud but to practically no one as few were still in the Serenity. Most had bounced to the ships directly and those who had not were already on Longevity preparing for Primus knew what.

The computer beeped an alert announcing its checks were complete and flight was now authorized. Slingshot pressed an internal comms link and leaned forward. "Attention all passengers. We're charged and ready to go. If you aren't seated or aren't holding on to something... Too fracking bad." With that the Aerialbot activated the retraction protocols for the gang planks. He raised the inertial dampener fields and forward shields. As soon as his fingers rested upon the helm controls, he toggled the throttle and activated the afterburners... sending the Serenity lancing towards low orbit and its assigned home... whether the passengers were ready or not.

Longevity--Cabin

"An' that big green an' purple idiot would have ta combine a lot sooner ta get me under its foot. I ain't got a substance abuse problem holdin' me back."

"Heh. Use. Use, ya oilstick. Not abuse. You should learn to appreciate th' difference," Kup said, still smirking as he took another long draw from the device. Handy technology this was. Handy handy.

"Hey! All ya youngin's listen up! If yer thinkin' about takin' up a cy-gar habit, just look over here! Do ya really want ta end up lookin' like this when yer a couple hundred million years old?!"

"Hah!" Kup barked out a laugh. "These scraplets make it to my age'n they'll deserve to suck down a few a' these things, too."

He then turned to listen as one of the younger mechs in question, Nova Strike was the lad's name, as he continued to give his thoughts on the strategic situation out here on "Earth".

"'Cons are always pushin' in, kid. Ain't never felt no different. But we push back. Always do. I remember this one time, back in Stanix, Thunderwing's predecessor, some other guy named Thunder-somethin' or other, he was working alongside Megadeath and they had troops just closing in all around us from every side. Now, mind you, they hadn't officially done anything with the war yet--Thunderbolt! That was the slagger's name--anyway, this guy..."

Next To Shuttles

Jetfire noticed that the remaining Autobots had boarded the two main shuttles and left him alone. This was fine by Jetfire as he intended to fly more escort than anything else. He watched as the two shuttles took off and so he decided to join them in the air in his jet form. The project Ultra Magnus gave him still occupied most of his processor. Coming up with a plan in the next few planetary hours wouldn't be hard. The difficult part will be putting the plan into motion and that is the biggest thing Jetfire will have to figure out. He'll leave the overall evaluation of the fight with the Fallen to the more strategic types.

>>Shuttle Longevity, this is Jetfire. I'll act as escort for you until you reach your destination unless ordered other wise.<<