Transformers: Steel Reign

[frigidmagi]

I have been moving quietly into position while Shockwave and the others exchange words and taunts. Normally I would be happy to engage in mental tactics but with Shockwave that is a waste of time. Also there are more important things to worry about.

Shockwave cannot be allowed to leave this battle. His death is our best chance of upsetting his plans (likelihood 87.45%).

I reach position and have a good shot on Shockwave, it is very possible that those close to him will suffer collateral damage... So be it, this war must be ended.

Sensors ping a lock and I fire both missiles as well as opening up with my cannon on Shockwave. Either way he is gonna feel this one.

[Dark Silver]

They taunt even as they shout their rage. Bolts of energy impact my tortured armor - normally I would be impervious to these relatively low powered weapons, but my armor has deteriorated with the multiple impacts of missiles and shells. My system readouts continue to drop, I am only at 65% of my primary systems capability, and my secondary redundancies are not designed for sustained combat operations.

The warning of multiple weapons locks ring in my cybernetic cortex, as my optic sensor falls upon Shellshock and Overload. Obviously, the damage to Overload was not enough to place him out of the battle. I consider this for a long moment - .00354 seconds - before a previously hidden subroutine comes online. I raise my blaster, and unleash a single bolt of power, pouring all of my new found malice, hatred and rage into it. The energy boils forth, a single, unstoppable burst of power, as multiple missiles impact my chassis.

The explosions throw me forward, my blaster disppearing in a ball of flame and gaseous Energon - the lower third portion of my left armature is consumed in the blast. The impact of the missiles and the explosion cause by the destruction of my blaster throw me off balance, falling to the ground as the hardened plasma shell rips into my left shoulder - the kinetic force of the projectile does not let even my superior armor hault it- and my arm hangs on only by a un-torn hydroalic suspension cable, and three power transfer lines.

I reach for my arm, ripping it away from my body, and throw it in the same direction my own bolt went a second earlier, at Overload and Shellshock.

I signal the Headmasters, even as the first of the Seekers streak to the battle zone. I unleash my army....while I may not be able to witness the battle, I trust my lieutenants to preform as ordered.

My single optic flickeres, the image no longer as sharp was it was before, I have only one option left to me. Retreat.

Optimus Prime can wait...I will possess what is mines in due time.


------

The drones received their orders, as both robot and jetfighter mode Fulcrum's break from their holding formations. A full three-quarters of the drone contigents stream forth, half in robot mode, the other in jet.

Thirty Fulcrum's break off from the main flight, as they receive orders over the tac-comm. Evacuate Shockwave, destruction of the humans and Autobots are a secondary goal compared to the safe return of their leader.

Three Seekers form up on the squadron of Fulcrum jet fighters, all three having taken the forms of the humans F-22 Raptors. All three had a similar coloration - differing only in their primary trim - dark grey and black. They were Killshot, trimmed in yellow, Firepulse, trimmed in red, and Foxbolt, trimmed in orange.

The group of Decepticons where near the Autobot continent surronding
Shockwave, their noses angled downward for the attack run.

Fulcrum's went first, unleashing A2S missiles as they obtained targetting locks, several unleashing upgraded sidewinder missiles, along with their "vulcan lasers". The shots were carefully aimed, straffing runs on the various Autobot positions.

Killshot and Foxbolt unleashed with their own lasers, strafing the ground in a opposing direction, even as they went to hug the ground, begining to unleash magnetic cable to obtain Shockwave's damaged form.


---- ---- ---


Shadow and Corneria began their strafing runs on the human column, their lasers and mini-missiles tearing apart humans and vehicles apart with contemptuous ease.

Corneria's interest was peeked when she received the transmission. She almost couldn't beleive the voice coming over - it must have been a trick of her audio receptors. Yet still....

Corneria broke off from her attack run on the humans, even as their flank was lit up by a sudden burst from Black Mass. The Autobots would be breaking soon, but then again, from the chatter she was picking up on Decepticon frequencies, Shockwave had unleashed the horde.

From her position several thousand feet in the air, Corry's sensors picked up the fast moving ground blip. Focusing her visual sensors upon it, the image became clear. While the form was changed, she knew without a doubt who it was.

"Crimson.....glad to see you still functional. That of course, will change shortly."

Corneria angled down, her nose lasers opening fire as she began a strafing run on her old comrade.


----- ----- -----

Perceptor was incharge now. Jetfire had taken damage, Silverbolt and the Aerialbots where dispatched to go assist Optimus. That left him in charge of the molted assorted groups.

"Slipstream," he called out, attempting not to lose his edge, "Tactical probability suggest a 93.465% chance the Decepticons are unleashing a attack on the human armored column attempting to rendevous with us. Provide air support immediatly. Stryke, go with Crimson and Phasor to provide ground assistance."

Perceptor's attention was stolen away for a moment, as Prime's trailer in battle station mode, had Roller almost smack into his leg. Perceptors followed the little drone to the base, looked over the sensor readouts, then transformed, his microscope form extending a connector into one of the computer banks.

Perceptor transformed again, and ordered the rest of the Autobots into defensive formation, over one hundred and fifty Fulcrum Headmasters, ten Seekers, and 30 ground based Decepticon troops where closing in.

Things were not looking up for the Autobots....


----- ----- ----- -----

Jazz, Hound and Bluestreak trained their weapons on the Fulcrum's as they made the first strafing runs, energy bolts streamed upward as missiles and energy bolts impacted the tundra around them. Prime was still a few minutes out with his backup, even as the battle broke out.

"Breakout!" called Jazz, "Cover Shockwave! Don't let him get away!"

Even as Jazz called out these orders, three Fulcrum's, with Fireshot on the point, streaked in to pin down the Autobot warrior with strafing fire - before pulling back into the air for a second round.

[frigidmagi]

"Breakout!" called Jazz, "Cover Shockwave! Don't let him get away!"

Jazz is a good officer but he suffers from the primary drawbacks of officers, he tells you stuff you know or would do anyways. It doesn't matter. I gun my engine and tear out at full speed, I fire missiles at Shockwave as fast as my autoloader can cycle them, every 3 to 6 seconds a new pair of missiles spit out towards Shockwave. Blitzwing, Megatron, Starscream, even Soundwave I would taunt, engaging in psychological warfare for tactical advantage. Shockwave is immune even in his current state, so I say nothing. I fire my cannon at any target in range, Shockwave just being to far. I am faster however and will close the range soon!

"Overload! Deathstrike, Jetstream! All fliers, all fliers, Shockwave is withdrawing! GET HIM! GET HIM!" I broadcast, Shockwave must not escape! He must not! I can feel the whole of the war riding on this and I cannot fail. Shockwave must not escape us! I draw fire from Shockwave's would be recusers but I ignore it save for cannon fire upon those close enough. The damage hurts but is acceptable if I succeed.

I tear through the land at my top speed the range falls and I line up my cannon for the shot. I must not fail. I will not fail.

[LadyTevar]

From her position several thousand feet in the air, Corry's sensors picked up the fast moving ground blip. Focusing her visual sensors upon it, the image became clear. While the form was changed, she knew without a doubt who it was.

"Crimson.....glad to see you still functional. That of course, will change shortly."

Corneria angled down, her nose lasers opening fire as she began a strafing run on her old comrade.

Hope for the best, prep for the worst Elita-1's words of wisdom never were truer as Crimson nimbly dodged the strafing run she predicted Corry would try. "Nice to see you too, Corry... I'd have thought the vorns would have given you more time to practice your aim."

Even as Crimson was taunting her old comrade, she could see the Human Column was under attack, and radioed it back to the Autobots. "Human column under attack by Decepticons -- two fliers identified as Corneria and Shadow. One or more unknown groundbased Decepticons as well. Request Backup Immediately!" She could transform to send off a few shots, but Crimson needed the speed more.

"So, what won you over, Corry? Did Ramjet finally win a kiss?" Crimson taunted, knowing full well that Corry considered Ramjet a complete idiot. The more Crimson could keep Corry's attention on her, the less damage Corry could do to the Humans

[Charon]

Shellshock transformed even as the blaster shot rang out. Mid-transformation there is nothing he can do to defend his brother, and can only hope that the damage is not severe. Around Shellshock's torso hangs the Heavy Proton cannon that he had picked up from the base and he sets it on the ground, preparing to hold his position. But there are more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. Shockwave is attempting to flee.

Shellshock's red optics focus on the wires that Shockwave is using to get away, even as a shot from a Fulcrum digs into his left shoulder. He is a warmachine of the old style, an engine of destruction built for the express purpose of laying his enemies to waste, and he will not be denied his victory. Already warning signs that he will have to watch his power levels are coming up, nothing dangerously low, but between that and his current lack of shells, it may become an issue.

Shots from a Seeker impact the ground infront of Shellshock, the old warbot takes half a second to lift his cannon and fire. The Seeker was still diving towards him, and though Shellshock will be hit, in all likelyhood not nearly as bad as the Seeker. Laser fire impacts, digging deep holes into his armored torso even as missiles explode around him, one of the upgraded missiles strikes the side of Shellshock's leg, bouncing off before it explodes, rocking the giant robot only a little.

But these are secondary issues, Shellshock never looks away from Shockwave even as he fired the shell. Now his cannon lowers itself, plasma builds up and in a brilliant spray explodes forth, Shellshock twists his cannon some, expanding the area that may be hit. The blast itself is extremely low powered, barely enough to singe Shockwave's armor, but he's not aiming at Shockwave's armor, he's aiming at the Magnetic Cable, giving enough power to make certain it melts. If Shockwave wants to get away, he'll have to do it under his own power, like any good warmachine.

[SirNitram]

The blast from Shockwave sears armour to vapour and liquid, liquified metal hitting the ground as Overload was rocked by the blast, providing cover for his less armoured brother. Danger and warning systems screamed at him, even as the arm of Shockwave bounced off his hull, a meaningless attempt to add insult to injury.

"Brother... Stick with Prime.. I'm gonna see if I can still fly." Grunted the hauler, as he started to run.

The transformation process is slower than normal, and pain circuits scream every step of the way. The Venturestar transport that is Overload's flight mode is heavily damaged, and two engines refuse to ignite even as it claws at the air. The other give burn brightly as the aerospikes engage, the massive form closing the distance on Killshot and Foxbolt. Weapons fire was everywhere...

Strictly speaking, something the sheer size of Overload's flightmode has to watch it's speed at low altitude, because when the sound barrier is broken, the shockwave is enormous. In recignition of the fact everywhere around him was Decepticons, the Autobot engaged manual override and his engines switched from air-breathing jets to rocket motors.

The sound was a thunderclap, even from miles away, as he tore towards the Seekers trying to evac Shockwave.

[B4UTRUST]

As the humans were prone to saying; War is hell. A chaotic, horrible consuming thing that was nothing but mindlessness. A state of being that gave ones like Slipstream an advantage over those who relied on the infinite cold logic of reason, planning and tactics.

Perceptor's orders came through the comm channel as he finished another loop around his area of responsibility. He snapped a quick roll and turned in a tight arc to intercept the human troops. He was silently disgusted with this, half tempted to let a few of them get offlined just on general principles. Afterburners flared, a deafening sonic boom the tell-tale of his passing.

Fulcrums. Mindless drones. Inferior creations, inferior technology, inferior Cybertronians. An unsaid insult to him and his race, that these half-completed amalgamations of weak flesh and sparkless chassis would resist their inevitable demise, that somewhere in that code there was a glimmer of belief that they could stand against a true Cybertronian. It was a disgusting insult that Shockwave sent against them. Giving these creatures of flesh and bone the benign hope that they could be more then what they were, that they could rise to such lofty heights as the Cybertronians, and that Cybertronians might be better for the intermixing of the species.

He would have none of it.

The drones before him were less then nothing to him. One by one they went down as his anti-aircraft weaponry blasted them into pieces. He blew throught he debris raining down around him, the shockwave created from his speed cleared a hole for him to pass through.

His course carried him to the human formation. It was already under attack. A pair of seekers in the air and a tank below. All of Cybertronian design, no modifications, no pretention of hiding what they were under the guise of Earthly forms. He gave his silent approval of this.

A challenge, a fight worthy enough to be called such was upon him. Screaming at top speed, he was rapidly closing in on the two fembot seekers. He had them targeted, missile locks holding tight. When he was in range he opened fire, a half dozen missiles from either side of his form launching out of hidden bays. Six missiles for each of his targets. Six cylinders of death, high manuverable warheads to offer oblivion.

He half-hoped it would be over quick, the other half silently prayed for the test of his abilities, to push himself, to prove his dominance. He gave himself over to the music, entering that blissful zen trance of emptiness, that zone of nothingness inside.

[Cynical Cat]

Deathstrike saw that he had managed to evade the Decepticon air swarm and that Autobot fliers were in the thick of it and still fighting. He tore through the air at high speed, his x-ray laser flashing. Two shots, two Fulcrums falling from the sky as Deathstrike tore through the edge of the air scrum. He was neither built for nor interested in dog fighting.

Shockwave's form glowed in his targeting display. His weapons bay opened and four heavy missiles raced towards the Decepticon commander.

[Marcao]

He circled the sky as he waited for new orders to arrive.

It was at this particular point of time the best that he could manage. He was not a master tactician, outside of his own capabilities he was not well versed in the best means of directing a large scale conflict. He had spent every astro-second since his choice on mastering himself and the capabilities that his alt form bestowed upon him. He had spent human days lost in the data that was provided to him until now he felt a semblance of comfort in the sky. All around him the signs of conflict and struggle were evident, his passive sensors working in conjunction with his drones allowing him an in depth view of the battlefield.

In the end, the battlefield shifted as Shockwave revealed his hand. Ah, that answered the questions as to where the real decepticons had been located. Internally, probabilities were computed and potential interventions were drawn out relevant to his own internal load out. His alt form was built to destroy and he was even now well equipped to do so. It was true that he no longer had any anti-radiation missiles, but that did not seem to be a matter of central importance. The twenty five bombs he had released earlier represented only a fraction of his total capacity. A coded burst allowed him to establish contact with his drones briefly new orders assigned before the contact was severed.

The autobot frequencies were awash with activity and he prepared to act. He turned left as he changed course once more and prepared to dive into the fray. He had no more than twenty astro seconds to decide on his present course of action. He had two choices, he could either seek out to assist existing autobot forces in an attempt to destroy shockwave here and now or he could interceded on the behalf of the human forces that were undoubtedly outmatched beneath the surge of deception activity. The destruction of shockwave would be a momentous occasion, a feat that would be celebrated for decades to come. Still, there were no less than five autobots pursuing shockwave.

What about the humans? There were so many of them surely a handful of them could be sacrificed for the greater goal that would be Shockwave’s demise? From a logical standpoint, the destruction of shockwave was more pressing than the survival of these human forces. Still, there was a part of him that reeled beneath the cold simplicity of that fact. He was an autobot was he not? Defense should come natural to him. In the end, it was the communication from one of his drones that forced his hand.

Crimson.

Crimson was charging towards human lines and judging from what his sensors were showing him she was attracting attention. Whatever it was remarkably difficult to track through normal means, but its firing at Crimson ruined its veritable cloak of invisibility. Within moments later, a second sensor ghost was perceived by his sensors as it fired over the human columns. He changed his course, a coded burst exchanged between himself and his drones. If he played his cards just right this would work.

Ultimately, he chose on an approach that would take him close enough to do the Crimson’s position to utilize his ordnance against ground targets as well as these hard to track flyers that were near the human location. He approached utilizing the full range of his stealth abilities. Using an active sensor sweep to get a lock on the deception flyers was tempting but ultimately counter productive. He would warn them, and doing so he would lose surprise. Once his twin drones were in position however, he would be able to act. He only hoped that Crimson survived until that point.

An astro second became another and yet another. Sky Shadow was intimately aware with the passage of time but his approach was precarious and could not be rushed. In the end, once everything was in place he acted. His drones had been instructed to track and target the twin signatures that where located in the air near the human lines. Under normal circumstances this would have been difficult enough, but Corneria’s interest seemed to be dominated completely by Crimson and the other flier appeared to be deriving enormous amounts of satisfaction through the destruction of human vehicles. Compact yet surprisingly capable sensor systems went active, a wide array of emissions kissing the airframes and sensor absorbing skins of the decepticons fliers. A mere astro-second later, while surprise would undoubtedly be racing through the circuits of the fliers Sky Shadow acted.

Sky Shadow had not been built as a fighter but he did possess the capability of carrying air to air ordnance. These weapons existed for self-defense but there were situations like this one where they could be used to surprise people. A rotary launcher spun into alignment and released its cargo, in this case four large missiles. The missiles fell into the sky before activating reaching a speed of mach 3 within a handful of seconds. It was then that their booster motor was released and the scramjet engine which was the true core of the missile took over. The missiles then climbed to a speed of mach 8.5 a velocity well capable of hunting down even the fastest fliers. These were missiles that had been designed from the ground up with autobot technology from propulsion right down to seeker systems. The engines used where thrust vectored, allowing for superior maneuverability even if at the speeds involved maneuverability was a touchy subject. Two of these missiles headed for Corneria, two towards Shadow. Sky Shadow twisted in the air and prepared for retaliation although the likelihood of that was low. He had not used his own active sensors just yet. Inwardly, he prepared for a second attack even as he considered how to best utilize his air to ground ordnance that was still the vast majority of his internal loadout.

[Dark Silver]

Though the haze of pain and system errors, Shockwave remained cognizant of his position and deliema. Missile locks resounded in his cybernetic cortex's warning, and he nearly instinctively reacted. There was no way for him to avoid the missiles, but he had other resources to utilize.

"Drones, protect me."

The call went out on the sub neural linkage between himself and his headmaster warriors. The humans responded, their planes adjusting positions, full burn in many cases exerting more g-forces than should be possible for a normal human to survive. Swarms of Fulcrum's forcibly impacted themselves into the missiles, or in cases, flew just close enough for the proximity fuses to detonate.

Soundwave's original screen of thirty Fulcrum's were decimated in the suicides, leaving only five of the originals left. They were all flying to attack Overload, as he transformed into his shuttle mode, and broke the sound barrier. The Fulcrum's flying into the shock wave buckled as titanic atmospheric forces they were not originally designed for pressed against and twisted at them. Within moments, the they were thrown off course, twisting in the air as guidance systems tried to correct themselves. Headmasters ejected as their drone bodied impacted the ground.

Overload was ontop of the two Seekers carrying Shockwave, his massive form pushing around massive amounts of air. Shockwave had heard the sonic boom, and had forcibly ripped the magnetic grapples from his shoulder with his one remaining arm, activating his own anti-gravs, and using it to cushion his own fall to the ground.

In the meantime, Shockwave's reinforcements arrived, 150 Fulcrum's appeared on the horizon, active radar's pinging loudly in the Autobot's sensor nets, as they released missiles - Anti-radiation, sidewinder, air-to-ground - all set for proximity detonation on their targets.

From the eastern flank, the whistle of supersonic shells were heard, as the first opening fire of the Decepticon ground warriors appeared, all in Cybertronian vehicle forms, their lasers and missiles added to the mix. The Autobot forces where coming under attack - and Optimus Prime was heading straight for where Shockwave had gone aground.




Shadow had barely a moment's notice of the missile locks(!) before she twisted in a evasive maneuver, releasing chaff and activating her ECMs to throw off those locks from her enemy sensors.

Shadow was barely able to pull off the chaffe, as one of the high altitude missiles tore through her left wing, the proximity fuse built within it exploding and sending shrapnel tearing into her fuselage. It would have been terminal damage for a human jet craft, but for the Cybertronian ones, it was a painful inconvenience, one which cut down her effectivness in the air. The second missile flew just wide, and impacted into the ground, the missiles fired off by Slipstream had been thrown off by the ECM, and had spiraled into the air away from her.

Shadow cried in pain from the damage in her wing, twisting and transforming into her robot form, falling to the ground in a controlled descent with her thrusters. She held in her hand twin laser machine guns, though they would do her precious little good for the fast flying, high maneuvering Slipstream.


Corneria, on the other hand, was busy strafing Crimson, when she heard the missile lock. She instantly dove for the ground, her hull barely staying above the ground level - only two meters really - as Sky Shadow's missile impacted with the ground at Mach 8, sending a plume of earth and rock into the air, even before it exploded loudly a half mile away. Unfortunately, Slipstream's mini-missile impacted with her rear engines, and at the speeds Corneria was flying at, the impact on the ground was terrible. The first hit made her bounce into the air, only instinctual transforming into her robot mode, before falling back down, rolling in a tangle of limbs and ground for over half a mile. Cory remained on the ground, damage reports scrolling past her optics as she groaned - her first mission for Shockwave against the Earth forces....and she was down - if it was for the count could not be known yet.


The remaining twelve Seekers flew at the Autobots and human forces. Not a few had noticed the streaming missiles fro high altitude which impacted on one of their fellows, and two took to higher altitude courses. Active radar's pinged out, giving out thier positions, but quickly locking in on Sky Shadow. Missiles and lasers lanced out at the high flying bomber, as no less than four Seekers sought to take him down. Several of the Fulcrum drones had followed, firing their own AtA weapons at the sleek, stealthy profile lighted on their radars.




The Aerialbots, even with Deathstrike's assistance, where vastly outnumbered by the number of Headmasters in the air. It was obvious what was required, at least to Silverbolt, and thus he gave the order.

"Aerialbots! Merge into Superion!"

The five Aerialbots flew into close formation, the sounds of transformation, then merging filling the laser fired air, as the Autobot Behemoth - Superion floated.

Missiles and lasers traced and exploded against Superion's armor, as he lanced out with twin beams of power from beneath his arms. "Superion destroy Decepticons!" the gestault boomed out.

[SirNitram]

Overload blew past the two Seekers with a shockwave that would leave them spinning. Speaking of Shockwaves....

It took a moment to get positive targetting locks on the rifts in that thick armour belt, but it was worth it. Technically, Overload carried no weapons in flight mode. 'Grappling hooks', while a method he often used in combat, were not strictly weapons.

It still hurt the Decepticon leader like hell when they punched into his hull, seized hold, and Overload went verticle, yanking the wounded cyclops skyward. The superheated wash of seven rocket motors poured over the unfortunate passenger, as Overload sought altitude.

"Idiot." Overload muttered across the comm. "How many years of your own operation did you sacrifice in this farce? You can count, you daft abacus, but you never count how much of your own life you're pouring into the energon needed for a war that'll never actually stop.."

[LadyTevar]

Corneria, on the other hand, was busy strafing Crimson, when she heard the missile lock. She instantly dove for the ground, her hull barely staying above the ground level - only two meters really - as Sky Shadow's missile impacted with the ground at Mach 8, sending a plume of earth and rock into the air, even before it exploded loudly a half mile away. Unfortunatly, Slipstream's mini-missile impacted with her rear engines, and at the speeds Corneria was flying at, the impact on the ground was terrible. The first hit made her bounce into the air, only instinctually transforming into her robot mode, before falling back down, rolling in a tangle of limbs and ground for over half a mile. Cory remained on the ground, damage reports scrolling past her optics as she groaned - her first mission for Shockwave against the Earth forces....and she was down - if it was for the count could not be known yet.

"Oooooooooo... that will leave a mark," Crimson taunted over the open channel she'd been using to speak to Corneria, before switching briefly to the Autobot's open channel. "Thanks for the aerial assist, guys!"

Corry's tumble had taken her out of Crimson's path, away from the human column, so Crimson merely sent a quiet message to Stryke. "Please be a sweetie and take care of that little wrecked plane for me? You're closer than I am." Her sensors were locked on another form.

Shadow cried in pain from the damage in her wing, twisting and transforming into her robot form, falling to the ground in a controlled descent with her thrusters. She held in her hand twin laser machine guns, though they would do her precious little good for the fast flying, high manuvering Slipstream.

"Shady!" Crimson called out, gunning her motor to close the distance. "You're looking well!" Once she was close enough, Crimson did her own transformation, ion and laser pistols appearing in hand. "We've never had a quarrel, Shady...," Crimson called to the traitor Fembot. "Just fly away ... I don't want a fight with you."

Somewhere was the other Decepticon, and Crimson still couldn't see where. Better to give Shady a pass for old time's sake and stop the shelling.

[Charon]

Shellshock saw that Overload had Shockwave, for now. He had bigger issues to deal with, like slowing down an assault of 150 Fulcrums and 30 ground pounders with battle damage, low enough energy stores that would be a problem, and a very limited supply of shells.

"I've been in worse situations..." The warbot muttered to himself as he dragged the heavy proton cannon emplacement into the crater he'd made when he'd fired at Shockwave and began to set it up. For now, the Autobot was not making himself a target, and what missiles that were aimed his way mostly exploded around him, digging their way through his impromptu earthen defense. The old warbot was a master of ranged weaponry, even under fire he could set one of these up in a damn short time. The problem might be the energy stores. Under normal firing conditions it would likely be able to last for a good 30 minutes.

Shellshock glanced up out of his crater and looked at the mass of incoming troops. The rate he was going to be firing, it'd run out of power in three, tops.

[General Havoc]

Thirty five different types of Hell were breaking loose outside, miles away in the dust and fire and confusion of the battle near the Decepticon-held spacebridge, but back in the Autobot base, everything was normal, bustling perhaps, but also quiet, and Hornet sat on a diagnostic bench, wishing his radio was still working, and trying to remain as still as he could as one of the human mechanics fiddled around inside his stomach with a microlathe and a pair of pliers. The mechanic was an older, grumpy human, who constantly spat some kind of brownish juice out of his mouth into a bucket on the ground and muttered various things about "goddamn walking toasters," that Hornet didn't quite catch. He got the sense that the human didn't like him very much, but then he was evidently trying to apply some kind of basic repairs, and had done so without a word to indicate why.

But then humans were very strange sometimes.

"I swear," said the human in a thick accent that Hornet's computer identified as 'southern', "what drunk ignorant sonofabitch pieced you together, son?"

Hornet was more than a little confused. "Wheeljack built me," he said, guessing that was what the human meant. The human turned and spat once again, pulling out a cleaning rag and wiping his tools off.

"Well this Jackwheel o' yours ain't got the sense God gave a polecat. He's got wires crossed all over the damn place, got ignition lines sittin' right next to circuit breakers, got your hydraulics all tied up in knots, and all o' these bits o' who-knows-what stuck in everywhere. The mechanic twisted his wrist and gave a yank, and then pulled his hand back out of Hornet's stomach holding a fist-sized piece equipment encrusted with circuits and staring at it like a fisherman inspecting a guppy.

"Um... I... kinda think I need that..."

"Oh yeah?" said the Mechanic, "What for?"

"I... can't move..."

The Mechanic raised an eyebrow at Hornet, who was indeed sitting more perfectly still than he practically ever had in his life, and he spat once more and grumbled as he reached back into Hornet's stomach and re-inserted the part. A moment later, Hornet's limbs and body were once more ambulatory, and the mechanic withdrew once more and began to put his tools away, muttering to himself about "goddamn robots". Hornet moved his wings and legs a bit, just to test them, and found that they worked, even as his diagnostics told him he was no longer leaking, and that his fluid pressure was returning to normal.

"Thanks," he chirped at the human mechanic, and he smiled happily.

The mechanic glanced up at him momentarily and grumbled something inaudible, looking as unfriendly as ever. "You were leaking on my floor," he finally said. "If OSHA saw that they'd hang my ass out to dry for unsafe work environments or some damn thing. I ain't havin' none o' that, ya hear? Now you sit quiet and let my people do their jobs, and don't bother nobody."

Hornet nodded energetically. "I will, I promise!" he said, and the human did not look convinced, but instead turned and stalked off, muttering about robots and generals and bureaucrats.

Hornet sighed softly and looked around, the mechanics and engineers wandering around him giving him a wide berth and glancing at him out of the corners of their optics, or eyes as the humans called them. He was used to the humans treating him like an object of awe by now, after all he was nearly twice their size, and a robot, but usually there were other, far more impressive Autobots around, and it was a little discomfiting to be the center of attention that nobody dared acknowledge, as though they were afraid of him. His radio was dead, and he had no idea what was going on outside, in the battle, and much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn't fly with a dead engine, and thus couldn't go and see that they were all right. He tried to tell himself over and over again that they were with Optimus and all the other powerful Autobots, and that everything would be all right, but he worried all the same. He couldn't help it. They were his friends and they were in the middle of a titanic war, while he was sitting here staring at the walls.

"Hornet?"

Hornet turned to see a human in a flight suit walking towards him, one of the pilots he had met before the Decepticon attack, and he brightened up immediately and smiled warmly, waving. The human's flight suit was covered in dust and grime, and his helmet was scraped and battered, but he seemed uninjured, and had none of the red stuff that humans used instead of mech fluid on his surface.

"What are you doin' here?" asked the human as he walked over, his eyes flickering down to the half-slagged hole drilled through Hornet's stomach. "Jesus, what happened?"

"I got shot..." said Hornet, rather shamefacedly, and he shrugged. "The mechanics fixed up the leaks, but I can't fly."

"Damn..." said the human, peering into the hole and seeing the daylight on the other side. "You okay? Does that like... hurt or something?"

"A little..." lied Hornet. It was better now, down to just a dull ache, but at the time it had been exceedingly unpleasant, and he was ashamed to admit that some of the fluid he had leaked inside Overload's cargo bay were tears of wiper fluid forced out by the pain. "What happened to you?"

"Got my wing taken off," said the pilot with a shrug. "Bailed out and came down 'bout a mile north of here."

Hornet's optics widened. "Does... that hurt?"

The pilot was puzzled. "Does what?"

"Losing your wing?"

The pilot blinked at Hornet for a second, who was staring at the human pilot in all seriousness, as if checking to make sure he still had both arms intact. "... no man," said the pilot, shaking his head slowly. "No... we don't have our arms inside the wings..."

"Oh... well does it hurt the plane?"

"The plane ain't alive, man. It can't get hurt."

"Oh... good..." said Hornet, feeling a bit relieved. Of course he knew that the humans flew airplanes that weren't alive, but he wasn't entirely sure how that worked. The concept of non-living vehicles was still a tricky one to get his processor around, and he usually avoided asking questions about it lest he get mocked by the others. He still remembered Hound and Jazz laughing uproariously the time they caught him reading a story to a bunch of parked cars...

"Do you... know how it's going? With the others?" he asked hesitantly, afraid of what the pilot might tell him, but the pilot merely shook his head.

"I ain't heard since I bailed out," he said. "I think they went after the bad guys somewhere down south."

Hornet lowered his head a bit. "Oh."

The pilot chuckled and walked over, lightly hitting him on the shoulder with his fist. "Hey man, don't worry 'bout it. They got the 553rd down there with 'em. We'll kick those alien tin cans' asses so hard they'll wish they never got built."

"... really?" asked Hornet, peeking back up.

"Hell yes!" insisted the pilot. "Y'all ain't got nothin' to worry about."

And right then, the pilot disintegrated.

There was a loud crack, like the sound of a sonic boom but sharper and at close range, and the top half of the human pilot suddenly exploded into red steam, which splattered all over Hornet like a spray painter set to a mist setting. For a second, Hornet was not certain what had just happened, so completely unexpected was this astonishing change, and it did not dawn on him immediately that the pilot he had just been speaking to was dead, not merely dead in fact, but had just been splattered all over Hornet and most of the workbench. And as his optics widened and an icy horror began to wash over him, he looked up at the doorway, and saw a figure standing there roughly his own size, slate gray and covered in metal, and holding a large, smoking handgun.

And then everything went to hell.

Screams and the sound of gunfire filled the air as explosions and beams of energy lanced across the room in every direction. Something hit the work bench Hornet was sitting on and upended it, spilling him off and onto the ground on his side as first one, then two, then five figures encased in powered armor entered the maintenance bay and began methodically cutting down everything that moved with particle beam pistols. Human guards returned the fire with their own energy weapons, as screams, shouts, and cries for assistance mingled with the mechanical grating sounds of the five cyborg-like enemies that had spontaneously turned up and begun transforming the maintenance bay into a charnel house.

Hornet lay stunned on the ground behind the overturned repair table, red blood dripping from his wings and head as the sounds and images around him faded out into a dull haze. He could practically hear his own processor spinning, as his shocked and throttled laser core tried to make sense of what was going on even as his personality node issued a priority order to his systems to curl up into a ball and scream. He probably would have followed it too, save that everything had happened so SUDDENLY, so fast that his head was spinning and his mind was still back on the point where the human pilot had melted in front of him, and he was dead...

"DIE MOTHERFUCKER!!!" screamed a human marine sergeant as he raced out from behind cover toting some kind of automatic rifle with a grenade launcher strapped to it. The marine fired a grenade and a barrage of energy bolts that struck one of the armored figures square in the chest, leaving a crater the size of a dinner plate bored into its hide. The nameless, faceless creature fell to its knees and pitched forward down onto the ground, apparently dead, as the other four turned on the marine and opened fire, ripping him to shreds in an instant. He fell lifeless to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, his head landing at such an angle as to stare straight at Hornet. And THAT elicited a scream.

... but oddly enough, not from him.

Un-noticed in the chaos, another mechanic had dived for cover behind the same workbench as Hornet. This was not the same one that had worked on Hornet before, but a much more junior one. Hornet had no idea how to tell humans' ages relatively speaking. He knew size had something to do with it but they all seemed fairly small to him. What he DID know was that this mechanic was screaming uncontrollably, exactly in the manner that Hornet himself would have been had his processor not been drenched in molasses, rendering him incapable of doing anything more than sitting and staring mutely. It was perhaps just as well, for the young mechanic was hollering loudly enough for both of them, and staring up at Hornet with frightened, terrified eyes, and Hornet could neither form a coherent word to say, nor even muster the courage to scream and cry himself, which was exactly what his spark was telling him to do.

Something hit the backside of the workbench and blew it in half, throwing Hornet aside like a rag doll. The mechanic, spared most of the blast, landed clear in the open, and looked up as two of the hulking armed enemies loomed overhead. As Hornet would likely have done in his place, the young man stared mutely up at them as they raised their weapons to shoot him down, but before they could do so, something... wholly new gelled inside Hornet's stunned, scared, and startled processor, and semi-automatically, he lifted his wings, spun up his gattling lasers, and opened fire.

A barrage of green bolts ripped into the nearest armored figure, spilling sparks onto the ground like a waterfall, and sending him crashing to the floor. His partner turned and without a second's hesitation fired at Hornet, the shot striking the little Autobot in the shoulder, spinning him around like a top and sending him crashing to the ground. Weak though Hornet's armor was, it sufficed to hold the particle beam shot, though it cracked his upper wing and drained the power out of one laser, and he cried out and landed hard on the ground, clutching at his shoulder. The enemy shoved the mechanic aside and stomped towards him, only to be hit from behind by a fusillade of lasers fired by the remaining human guards, but as he turned to deal with them, Hornet rolled over onto his stomach and aimed his other laser.

"LEAVE THEM ALONE!" he shouted, almost incoherent with fear and pain, and his ultra-high-speed laser cannon tore into the enemy's side, sending him crumpling to the floor, twitching and jerking, but disabled. He might then have collapsed into sobs, the tears were already forming in his optics in fact, but there remained two enemies active, and now he had drawn their attention, and before he could cry, he screamed instead, screamed as loudly as his left hand and forearm suddenly exploded into flying bits of debris as one of the remaining enemies shot him midwing with his particle beam pistol, the other narrowly avoiding taking his head off by an inch or two. He scurried back behind cover, his processor thumping in his auditory sensors, and he cried, and sobbed, and forced back the pain from his sparking left wing, and tried desperately to think of what to do now. The remaining humans, their weapons almost totally inadequate to stop the two remaining enemies, were huddled in the back of the room, and one of the armored behemoths turned and began to stomp towards them. It did not get far, for the mechanic that Hornet had been sheltering next to took this moment to leap up and run, and Hornet, terrified and unable to think clearly, acted instinctively as the enemy machine turned around to shoot the human.

He jumped out and ran after it.

In doing so of course he had forgotten the other enemy, the one stalking him, and he hadn't managed more than a pace or two before something slammed into his side and knocked the legs out from under him, a shot that cracked his torso armor and severed his hydraulic lines, but lightweight though he was, Hornet had enough mass to generate a fair bit of momentum, and as he fell, he slid headfirst into the second enemy machine, and both of them collapsed to the ground in a heap of sparks and flying metal.

Hornet, dazed, hurt, terrified, found himself laying up against the wall with the enemy robot kneeling over him, his pistol knocked from his hand and sent flying across the room, and from his belt the robotic enemy drew an energy knife and drove it down at Hornet's chest. Instinctively, Hornet hit at the robot's arm, and knocked it aside, and the knife drove into the ground, and flailing his intact wing around, he managed to bunch it up into a fist and clobber the enemy robot in the face, or what passed for it. The blow would not have even shaken a normal transformer, but these things were miniatures, barely larger than humans, smaller even than Hornet, and the enemy staggered back. No sooner had he done so however than the enemy lunged forward, smashing its fist into Hornet's throat, denting the metal and knocking him onto his back before leaping onto his chest, cupping both hands around Hornet's throat, and squeezing as hard as it could. Hornet had no windpipe to crush of course, but he had all-too-important circuits that ran between his head and body, and the robot clearly meant to crush those to powder. Terrified and screaming, Hornet batted at the robot with his right arm and the stump of his left, but there was no budging the robot.... none that is until Hornet's flailings brought something metallic into his remaining hand, and he gripped it, and swung as hard as he could at the robot's head in desperation.

Hornet had gripped an iron bar, and though he was undoubtedly the smallest and the weakest of all the Transformers ever built, he was still a transformer and his servos still had the strength of mechanical parts in them, coupled with the desperation of the dying. The impact with the enemy robot's head was loud enough to echo and hard enough to bend the bar double in his hand, and the robot's head spun as he was knocked off of him and onto the ground. It tried to rise again, but Hornet rolled over and clubbed it in the back once more, as hard as he could, snapping the iron bar as he did so, sheering it off into a point, and the robot fell to the ground, and did not stir. And as the adrenaline, or rather the coded algorithms that replicated it slowly wore off, and he realized that he was still alive, Hornet got back to his feet very unsteadily, and then he noticed something that made him freeze as though his system had just crashed.

The robot was leaking... and it was leaking red.

He turned and he looked at the other fallen robots, and to his horror he saw that all of them had red pools forming around them, red liquid that was no mech fluid but organic, a compound of iron and carbon and water and cellular structures... a compound called blood.

Human blood.

The enemies weren't robots...

They were...

He was...

For a single, horrible second, he looked up at the humans huddled on the other side of the room, and he saw in their eyes fear, and horror, and astonishment, and then the dams burst and tears exploded from his optics and he cried.

But only for a second.

His cries degenerated into a scream, a horrible digitized scream as unimaginable pain shot through every part of his body, for in his horrified shock, he had forgotten the last human enemy, and the enemy had come up behind him with a taser of some sort and shot him in the back with 400,000 volts worth of energy over his conductive surface. Hornet staggered and screamed and fell to his knees and then pitched forward face-first onto the ground, writhing and crying and unable to move. The Headmaster, for that was what it was, took no chances, but bent down, rolled Hornet over onto his back, and stared down into the little Autobot's optics as it brought its pistol up to Hornet's face, pressed the barrel against his frightened optics, and fired.

The gunshot echoed over the suddenly silent maintenance bay, and Hornet twitched a few times, and then fell still. The Headmaster withdrew its smoking gun from Hornet's head, through which it had just drilled a four inch wide hole, and watched as the light went out in Hornet's one remaining optic, and the little bot lay motionless on the ground next to the fallen Headmasters and humans. Only then did it stand back up and face the remaining humans, and stop to reload its weapon's power core, and step forward to finish the job.

And that was the last thing it did.

The Headmaster gave a cry as something lanced out of nowhere and struck it in the back, a sharp hard stab that ruptured what little armor it had and drove into its insides, and it staggered and dropped its handgun and tried to turn its head, and as it did, it saw a thing which should have been impossible. It saw Hornet, sitting up once again, sparks and mech fluid leaking from the hideous would in his head, but holding the shorn-off metal bar in one hand, whose broken tip was as sharp as any spearpoint, and he had driven it straight into the Headmaster's back.

For Hornet may have looked and acted and sounded and even wanted to be like a human, but he was not one, and the half-human Headmaster had not realized in shooting him that Hornet's laser core and processor was not stored where a human's brain would have been.... but where their heart was.

The headmaster fumbled for its taser, intending to jam it into Hornet with a reverse grip, disable the little Autobot, retrieve his pistol, and execute him, but Hornet did not permit him to, for with one motion, Hornet reached up with the broken stump of his left wing, hooked it over the Headmaster's shoulder, and pulled back as hard as he could, while simultaneously pushing forward with the metal bar. There was a cry and a rending of metal, and then the tip of the spear burst out of the Headmaster's chest, and the Headmaster went limp and slid down the spear onto Hornet, who fell back onto the ground, and lay still.

Quiet descended slowly onto the ruined maintenance bay, and the humans who had been under cover very very slowly filed out from where they were hiding. Some ran for help, some curled up in a corner and cried, some helped their wounded fellows, but not a few of them gathered around Hornet, who was laying on his back on the ground, completely spent, his frame cracked and smashed in a dozen places, soaked in a mingled mixture of his own gray mech fluid and the red blood of the Headmaster he had just impaled. Some whispered, some shied away, some tried to ask if he was all right, but he could not hear them or even see them, for he was so deeply in shock, so badly hurt in every sense, that he could do nothing more than cry softly, and clutch the unliving body of the impaled headmaster which was now laying limply on top of him. He clutched it as tightly as he could, like a child clutching to a blanket or a stuffed toy, and he wept openly, the wiper fluid leaking from his one remaining optic, even as the humans bustled around him. He paid them no mind at all, for he could not see past the blinding, crushing despair that had washed over him, and in his mind all he could see was the surprised, anguished look on the face of Headmaster whom he had stabbed, as it realized that it was about to die. And in that form, in that mind-set, the damage to his frame and the loss of mech fluid and structural integrity were such that Hornet's own systems analyzed the situation, and being as he was no longer in immediate danger, he fell into stasis lock.

And for those who were still monitoring the airwaves, and had the luxury to check on them, there was a terse radio broadcast from a shortwave set in the hangar. "Maintenance bay 1 attacked by Decepticon forces. Enemy forces repelled. Friendly casualties: 13 human, one Autobot."

[Cynical Cat]

Deathstrike wanted to scream in frustration. Four armour piercing missiles and Shockwave was within visual range in atmosphere and no hits. Instead he had managed to deploy the Headmasters as shields, although the armour piercing missiles had torn through their feeble Terran tech bodies and inflicted heavy casualties. A part of his brain noted the control Shockwave exerted over the presumably Chinese cyborgs as a piece of data that might contradict his theory on their origins.

His kill had alluded him again. He had, in fact, not managed to kill anything but drone bodies since arriving in Earth. He definitely needed to get his combat subroutines checked. Flaming Fulcrum's fell from the sky and the Decepticon warrior experienced nothing but frustration.

Then Overload engaged Shockwave and even more warriors appeared. This whole battle was ludicrous. The Autobot planning and operational execution was appalling, including allowing Hornet and the human fliers to go play games while withing easy strike range of the Decepticon base, but the Decepticon strategy was ludicrous. Have Shockwave expose himself to massive damage and risk death and then unleash waves of Decepticons when the Autobots were long since committed. It was illogical.

Illogical and therefore not the whole plan. This was the distraction, a distraction that required Shockwave's very public appearance. The plan was not flawlessly logical, but it was bold. Audacious and ruthless. This was not Shockwave's plan, not entirely. It was Megatron's.

"Deathstrike to Prime. I believe this engagement is a distraction and that Megatron will command the true attack. Advise having Teletran-1 scan for Decepticon activity."

Deathstrike turned to engage the swarm of Decepticon fliers that Superion was trying to deal with. Maybe he would find something worthier than drones to kill.

[frigidmagi]

I rush back towards Shellshock, at this point I am fighting my through drones. I stick to using my cannon at this point.

"Overload quit playing with Shockwave and just kill him! Rip out his laser core already!" I call out to Overload as he dragged Shockwave across the sky. The desire to show off and taunt the enemy some of my fellow bots have is maddening.

[SirNitram]

"Overload quit playing with Shockwave and just kill him! Rip out his laser core already!" I call out to Overload as he dragged Shockwave across the sky. The desire to show off and taunt the enemy some of my fellow bots have is maddening.

"Would love to, Breakout, but there's a few too many Decepticons down there to just pull over." Overload grunted over the coms. "I've lost enough function to Shockwave's cannon before he threw it at me. I need to get some distance before I get fancy."

[B4UTRUST]

Slipstream dove towards the ground at maddening speeds. He was disgusted. The fembots were down already. He snapped out of the dive, leveling out over the ground at mach speeds, not so much breaking the sound barrier as obliterating it. He rocketed upwards once more into the sky, sensors searching for new targets as a group of Seekers approached.

There was no subtlety now. No attacks from behind, no surprise straffing manuvers. He simply aimed himself at the group of seekers heading his way and flew, vernier thrusters throwing him in multiple directions at once as he danced through the incoming fire.

Laser fire erupted from his weapons as he pulled up targeting data and took aim, firing as soon as he was within range to do so.

[Dark Silver]

The Seekers, a group of three trimmed in crimson - their primary colors each being some obtuse shade of the purplish-black - corkscrewed around Slipstream's incoming fire - their own missiles, lasers; and oddly enough, anti-missile lasers causing the mini-missiles to explode around their forms.

Even as the Seekers normally shared one of two basic designs in their robot forms, this particular trio seemed entirely different, all to much alike, even their Cybertronian aerial forms smacked completely of a semblance of another.

Laserfire strafed the undercarriage of Slipstream - the slightly underpowered anti-missile lasers of one of the Seekers - as they rocketed pass each other at Supersonic speeds.


-----------------


The distraction had proven useful - Shockwave's precious Headmaster's had cleared the Human's attention from his own prison, even as the two guards had been dispatched.

His chassis still ached and power still surged in his primary guidance systems, but Starscream was free. The fleshling guardians had been disposed off with two shoots from the cybernetic warriors, who then freed the Aerial Commander from his captivation.

Starscream did what he did best, ordered the Headmasters to cover his escape, knowing they'd eventually be exterminated if the humans were warned in advance and where heavily enough armed. Still, by the time they thought to check on him, he'd be long gone.

Starscream laughed as he ran from the base, the shouts and cries of humans being slaughtered, along with the sounds of gunfire, music to his audio receptors. He transformed in mid stride, his robotic form taking the shape of a F-15, as he streaked off into the air.


----------------


"Query: Do you honestly believe your band of rabble could possible halt my designs Overload?" Shockwave spoke with the same maddeningly calm monotone voice even as he was dragged behind the supersonic shuttle.

"You of all mechanoids should know how intricate my plans are, even my fall here will not stop the Decepticons - nor impede my plans from becoming to fruition. My victory is as certain as the passing of the astrosecond. Even you cannot be so blinded by Autobot propaganda to deny the inevitable."

Behind Shockwave and Overload, lost far behind their wake, two Seekers attempting to climb to catch up - their speeds being completely lacking for the overpowered transport shuttle.

"Shockwave to Chimera," Shockwave spoke, making sure the message played over both the Autobot and Decepticon radio frequencies, "Begin Operation. Obliterate New York City."


----------------


Optimus had joined in the battle, he had altered course away from Shockwave, and into the throng of ground based Decepticons already running for his troops. Laser fire rebounded off his grill and windshield as he drove on - even as Superion and his fellow Autobots focused on the Headmasters and the Seekers coming to Shockwave's aid. The ground forces where more of a threat, out numbering and out gunning the Autobots as it where.

Prime had driven himself through the front line, two Decepticons who had forgone their vehicle modes, to run into battle on their true forms, laser gatlings blasting into his forward chassis. One saw the unstoppable red juggernaught as it moved towards them at full speed, and jumped away, not even warning his comrade as Optimus slammed into the Decepticon, sending him tumbling away, shortly before being crushed beneath the big red rig's wheels, chest and head smashed into non function as the Autobot leader's weight.

Optimus transformed then, gracefully going from truck to robot mode in a second, his laser rifle in one hand, energon axe replacing the other. The energy-axe had just cleaved into a nearby Decepticon warrior's shoulder, when Shockwave's message poured through the comm chanels - even as he was being pulled higher into the air.

Within his very spark, Prime felt a pit of coldness well up.....

he realiezed this was just a distraction all of a sudden, Shockwave had played them all for fools....

"Autobots! Fall back!" he cried, laser rifle barking bolts of energy into Decepticons as he began his retreat. The only hope he could possibly have, is that the Autobots could at least destroy the Decepticon's fortress.

---------- ---------------

Chimera and Blackout sat within the command center of the currently underwater battle platform. Bristling with enough raw firepower at their command to put a pre-Great Shutdown battle cruiser to odds, they had a mission to fulfill. And not five seconds after receiving Shockwave's order, Chimera allowed a smirk to form behind his faceplate.

"Blackout," he told his comrade, "Let us surface...begin transformation sequence. Let us see if battle station is as powerful as we have been lead to beleive....."

Blackout complied wordlessly, turning to the main control systems, and releasing the inhibitor lockouts. Slowly, the cortical relays snapped to life, and the entire structure around the two began to shift and change again.

The harbor boiled and the earth shook around New York City. Out in the ocean, drawing horribly, quickly closer, what seemed like the wake of a massive ship crashed first upon Liberty Island, the waves reaching the very base of the great Statue of Liberty, and over onto the harbor structures. Ships were capsized, steel hulls screeching in protest as their weight was shifted uncontrollably, hulls cracking open as men and goods poured out - seawater flooding inward.

Within the shallower waters, a great metallic crest appeared near the surface, breaking the boiling water not unlike a shark's fin. Only the fin quickly pushed upwards, revealing the massive, metallic reptillian head, green optics pushed to the side. Like some metallic Godzilla, the great beast strode through the bay, millions of gallons of seawater streaming off it's body.

Within the head, Chimera and Blackout looked at each other, as the first roar of the beast echoed out over the city, along with the booming, beastial voice, "Trypticon hates puny fleshling! Trypticon hate Autobots!"

A gout of plasmic flame shot from Trytpcion's mouth, a nearby bank of habor buildings exploding with the force of a solarflare compressed into a much smaller path.

"Trypticon destroy everything!"

[Dark Silver]

Shadow turned about, her blood red optics focusing on her former comrade as she swung the laser pistols around.

"Crimson.." she spoke, lowering her weapons as she touched the ground. "I never thought I'd see you again.."

The female flyer moved over the ground, though she never put away the weapons, locking optics with Crimson, "What Crim? Are you going to shoot me? Come on, we both know you don't have the drive train to do that...."

[Charon]

Shellshock finished setting up the Proton cannon just as Shockwave's command went over the lines, followed shortly after by Prime's. Then word came from the human base that an autobot was down. Shellshock paused for maybe three astroseconds, weighing his options. He'd known this was a set-up, but just not how much of one. So far many heavy hitters on both sides were at this fight, and Prime had stationed a guard at New York City, that should be able to at least slow down anything that the Decepticons could throw at the city. And here, there was an almost destroyed Shockwave, and dozens of Decepticons, if the Autobots pulled back here they would be free to sweep down. Regardless, if the attack on New York was happening now, there was little Shellshock, or any of them, could do about it now, especially with the Space bridge down.

Shellshock opened fire with the cannon, tearing holes cleanly through fulcrums as though they were made of tissue paper, and then he turned his gun on the Decepticons. The old warbot had little intention of leaving his post of battle short of a direct order, and even then he would do so begrudgingly.

The spray of Proton fire quickly began to heat up the barrel, threatening to ruin the gun. Shellshock stopped firing for a moment and stood behind the small shield of armor that surrounded part of the gun, firing his main cannon until the barrel of the emplacement cooled down enough to safely fire again.

[SirNitram]

"Query: Do you honestly believe your band of rabble could possible halt my designs Overload?" Shockwave spoke with the same maddeningly calm monotone voice even as he was dragged behind the supersonic shuttle.

"You of all mechanoids should know how intricate my plans are, even my fall here will not stop the Decepticons - nor impede my plans from becoming to fruition. My victory is as certain as the passing of the astrosecond. Even you cannot be so blinded by Autobot propaganda to deny the inevitable."

"Would I waste my vocoder if I thought there was another way to stop the collapse of this planet as an energy source?" Overload snapped at Shockwave, noting the two Seekers pathetically trying to keep up. "Run the math! War-footing is sucking the last dregs out of this place! You'll rule a rust-pile!"

As the transmission came, Overload transformed in midair, letting momentum continue to lift them both. "To the void with it then. If you insist on seeing this stupid feud to the end... Your end comes now!" Overload's robot mode was holding the massive sword in one hand, and the tow cables gripping Shockwave in the other. A yank and a thrust, and the two ancient Transformers were slammed together; that huge blade aimed to pierce the weakened and cracked casing of Shockwave's battlehull, aimed right for the spark chamber.

Probability of withstanding intentional overload/nuclear detonation at present range with spark core intact... 12.5%.

The last thought through Overload's mind as he slammed the hilt home was that he had never gotten a chance to see if his new flight mode could go interplanetary.

[LadyTevar]

Shadow turned about, her blood red optics focusing on her former comrade as she swung the laser pistols around.

"Crimson.." she spoke, lowering her weapons as she touched the ground. "I never thought I'd see you again.."

The female flyer moved over the ground, though she never put away the weapons, locking optics with Crimson, "What Crim? Are you going to shoot me? Come on, we both know you don't have the drive train to do that...."

Crimson also never put away her pistols, although she too lowered them. "It's been Vorn, Shady," she replied, her blue optics meeting the gaze steadily. "I'd rather not shoot you. I'd rather have our old friendship back. I know the chances of the latter happening, though."

Shockwave's transmission came over the open comms, followed by Prime's on the Autobot channel only. Crimson's hands clenched her pistols for a moment, then she forced herself to relax, her sensors still alert to make sure no drones or lost ordinance was heading her way.

"Deathstrike thought it was all a ruse... looks like he was right," she said to her former friend. "Distraction's over, Shady. You played your part perfectly ... as always." Shadow had often played decoy for Elita-1's traps, even moreso than Crimson or Corneria. Crimson was merely giving credit where it was due. "Just ... go. Please."

[Cynical Cat]

Deathstrike had been hunting Seekers and low and behold two made themselves known by chasing Overload up into the sky. The Seekers could outmaneuver him, but he could outrun them in a straight line chase. His engines roared into full power as he pursued his targets.

Distance receeded as he brought his weapons to bear. He launched his last two missiles, anti-air flechettes, at one of the Seekers and then trained his cannon on the other. He fired a long, slicing burst at maximum power, intending to cut the Seeker in half or at least inflict severe damage.

[Agent Fisher]

Stryke rolled as fast as he could, approaching the downed 'Con jet. He heard the fall back order. He opened a channel to Prime. "Prime, Stryke, heading to check on a downed 'Con, will fall back afterwards." He said, getting even closer to where Corneria had crashed.