Africa – Democratic Republic of the Congo“Huh…this is weird…” Blaster murmured, frowning down at the readings he was getting. At the same time, he was obscuring the area from a communications perspective while also doing as Jazz said. Keeping an ear to the ground for any of their kind. He did get a transmission from Jetfire, asking him to report to the main science lab. Given the nature of their little mission, Blaster opted not to send Jetfire a reply back just yet.
"Prime!”“Wha…?” Blaster’s head immediately jerked up from his readings as Jazz uttered the name. And…there he was. Blaster hurried forward with wide optics. It was really him. Optimus. He stood stunned for a brief moment before realizing that he was likely blocking the way for Ratchet. He shuffled to the side hurriedly to let the Doc do his thing.
Still, something bothered Blaster. He checked his reading again. Yeah. Still there. “
Jazz…I’m reading…another spark signature…” Blaster turned around and followed his readings. It didn’t take Blaster long to notice him.
“Megatron!” Blaster immediately armed himself, leveling his weapon at the Decepticon leader. The communications officers hastily glanced around for hidden Decepticons. When he didn’t immediately see any, his attention refocused squarely on the silver tyrant. He looked in about as good of a state as Prime, but didn’t mean that Megatron couldn’t fight. “Jazz!” Blaster called. He wasn’t sure what to do. He was ready to unload on Megatron should he even move a finger funny.
“Don’t you move a servo, Megatron,” Blaster growled out. Their primary objective was to get Prime to safety…but finding an injured Megatron here…it felt like an opportunity.
-
-
He could hear something. Couldn’t quite make sense of it. The warm, kind, blue optics of the Prime flickered back to life dimly yet again. His energy still low and body damaged. Internal diagnostics were less than optimistic.
As his optics started to focus in on the world around him again, Optimus once again noted the green flora of the verdant planet Earth. What? Hadn’t he just been on Cybertron. There was more. As his senses returned to him, he began to make sense of the words. He turned his head slightly and recognized a familiar face.
“…hear me Optimus? Cmon gimme a sign, man!"
“
Jazz…” Optimus managed. Was it really his old friend? He could scarcely believe it. After all this time to see a friendly face…
”Megatron!”Blaster? He was here too? Prime forced himself to sit up, despite his body’s intense protests. “No…” Prime growled. Megatron would…He had to stop Megatron. He had to-
-red fire and smoke blazed across the Iaconian sky.
“The Combaticons are breaking though the west barricade!! AUGGHH!!!”
“Optimus, what do we do?!?!”
“We’ll hold them here! We cannot allow the Decepticons this victory!” Optimus ordered, clapping the young recruit on the shoulder. The young Autobot nodded, even smiling before trotting off to take up his position as fast as his servos would carry him.
Optimus lifted his own trusty blaster, leaping over the barricade and into the fray. All they needed was to push--Cybertron was replaced again by the dense foliage of the Terran planet. What was not replaced was the feeling of urgency. Forcing himself to knees, and then slowly but surely to his feet, Optimus took an uncertain step forward, pain lancing up his leg. Ignoring it, he scanned the area for the familiar silver form of his long-time nemesis - and more recently occasional ally.
“
Megatron!”