Transformers: Steel Reign

[LadyTevar]

Hornet was trying to say something, trying to move, and Crimson gave Stryke a worried look overtop of the teenybot's head. Her good arm gave the little fighter a gentle squeeze. "In-enoue, Hornet," she said, giving the command for him to drop into stasis lock, speaking softly to cover the code word with babble. "Sleep now, little one, you need to rest."

[General Havoc]

A sleep command would have been gentler, but the stasis command was certainly effective. No sooner had Hornet heard that word being spoken, and his processor had cross-checked the voice modulation, than it instituted an emergency stasis lock. As Hornet was barely moving to begin with, this was not too impressive. He simply gave a soft little sigh and went as limp as a boned fish, his head settling down onto Crimson's shoulder as his optics slid shut and his processor dialed down, a soft smile still sketched onto his face from when Crimson had squeezed him back.

Hornet loved being squeezed.

[Agent Fisher]

Stryke looked down at Hornet and then back up to Crimson. "I think he likes you." He said, referring to the smile on the small 'Bots face. "And yeah, I'm in one piece. And I'm glad you are too. You had me worried there for a bit." He said softly.

[LadyTevar]

"Yes, I guess he does," was all Crimson could say to the comment about Hornet. Still, as Stryke admitted he'd been worried, she felt she had to say more, give him a little warning before he actually saw the real damage for himself.

"Stryke ... however bad Ravage got me ... I gave him as good as I got." It was partly apologetic, partly a plea for him not to be too mad at her. "You're going to yell at me when you see me standing, I know..," she continued, leaning her head back against the bench, not quite feigning exhaustion. "... just make it after I've been in the CR Chamber, ok?"

Of course, she was not going to mention that she'd need a few days on the repair table before hitting the CR Chamber. He'd find that out soon enough. Somehow she didn't think a few days would cool his temper any.

[Cynical Cat]

Energon Reserves: 28%
Power Bleed . . . .
Right Forearm: Destroyed
X-ray Laser Cannon: Nonfunctional
Thrusters: Nonfunctional
Missile Racks: Nonfunctional
Sensor Systems: 42%
Transformation Cog: Offline
Armor: 72% of Surface Area Compromised
Actuators: 69% Functional
Recommendation: Enter low power mode

Deathstrike lay back against the side of Skylynx and released his hold on the laser rifle. The Autobots were congratulating themselves on their performance. Let them. He had fought again and won, living more in the last one thousand astroseconds than he had in the last million megacycles. He had touched his former glory and regained the tattered mantle of his honour. Even though his body was a crippled hulk he was Deathstrike again.

[Agent Fisher]

Stryke looked at her. "How bad?" He asked, looking her over, shifting so he could get a better view of her damaged areas. He started to notice more of her damages. "Ravage did all this?" Stryke asked, starting to feel worried, but he tried to squash it down. He could feel concerned, but feeling worried about someone was something he did only for friends, and he had made a promise to not have any friends until the war was over. And, he could be sure that his friends would not die.

[LadyTevar]

Slag... he would have to ask. Crimson called the damage report to mind, and tried to think of how to -not- get Stryke upset. "Well .... he bit my shoulder and now I can't move my left arm at all." That was one down. Now for the next. "There's ... ummm ... no armor on my chest left. ..."

Good news? Is there good news? "Everthing else is 65% or better."

[Agent Fisher]

"WHAT!" Stryke shouted but then looked around, quieting down. He reached out to move Hornet but then actually looked at the small bot and changed his mind. He hung his head and sat next to her. "I'm sorry for not being there Crim." The warbot said softly. "I promised I'd protect you and you ended up with no armor left."

[LadyTevar]

Scrap... worse than mad at her, he was blaming himself.

"You're right. And you deserve hit for it. Don't think I can't hit you from here..." she said as he'd sat down on her Left side. Her right hand carefully picked up her left arm by the wrist, raising it up off and away from Hornet's body. One optic closed, as if taking aim, and her right hand shoved her left arm towards Stryke.

The still attached, limp limb flailed out striking Stryke with a soft 'clang' that was all sound and no fury.

"... now would you please leave this until after I'm repaired?" she asked plaintively.

[Agent Fisher]

Stryke gave a scoff, and looked down at her arm. "Consider it left." He said, picking up the arm, and placing it back on Hornet. "Well, this was a real fun mission. I got to meet a few new 'Bots, saw an old acquaintance," he said, referring to Deathstrike. "I tackled a 'Con, got choked out." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "If you don't mind, Crim, I'm going to shut down for a bit." He said and was soon powered down.

[LadyTevar]

"no... I don't mind..." she answered softly. Powering down sounded like a good idea to her as well.

[Dark Silver]

Nearly two megacycles passed before Skylynx spoke again, his cool - vaguely English voice, filling the passenger area, "I'm begining approach to the Ark. I've already informed Magnus of the need for repair teams."

Ten minutes later, Skylynx had set down on the landing pad that had been constructed near the Annex buildings which surrounded Mt Saint Hillary, and the damaged 'bots were allowed to exit.

Deathstrike, Outbreak, Crimson, Hornet and Breachload were brought to repair bays, Optimus and Grimlock rushed to Emergency Trauma sections of the Maintenance Buildings. Rachet and Wheeljack rushed to follow the two wounded.

------ o ------

GMs Note: This begins a break of two months between the loss of Fort Maximal and the next mission. I've given some players permission for "bluebooked" scenes which will have occured within this two month time span. For the most part, your team has been taken off the Active Duty roster - this time is meant for repairs/rebuilds as nessacry, debriefings, investigations into what happened, and R&R time for the team. Those given permission may make their posts, and I'll begin the next round shortly there after.

[frigidmagi]

1 month after

Antarctica Air Space

Jetfire flew low and fast, all slealth systems on. No one had landed troops on this southernmost landmass which made it a gateway of sorts into Megatron's empire. In all honesty though it was mainly the fact that
Decepticons didn't worry about people trying to get into their empire that much. Within his cargo compartment Breakout and Rodimus sat hunched over a halo-map, going over the data and the plan one last time. The halo-map showed both the surroundings and the installation that they were planning on breaking into. The information Breakout had been told came from one of Rodimus' old contacts back when he ran a resistance cell. Fully aware of "need to know" and the realities of covert work, Breakout
forbore from asking any names.

"Over a 1,000 protoforms stored in this one spot. Lightly guarded because Soundwave thinks it's secret is safe. Careless of the Old Con, but his screwup is our gain." Rodimus said in a quiet but savage tone of voice.

"From the data it's only 4 guards and an automated system. The guards are all lightweights, newbies to Earth. Easy scrap metal. Only one at the door, the rest scattered across the building." Breakout replied.

"Yep. Long as we get in quiet and don't trip any alarms, we're gold." Rodimus said.

Jetfire made a looping turn away from the barren land of ice and snow, heading north to what had been South Africa. He flew barely 3 meters above the ocean waves, every light and transmission out. His systems did
their level best to imitate an empty patch of sky.

"Picking up alot of com chatter, alot of it's unauthorized traffic Gents. Megatron hasn't been seen out and about in weeks." Jetfire reported to his passengers.

"Isn't that a shame. Wonder if Starscream is getting ideas." Rodimus smirked.

"That would be nice." Breakout agreed.

Africa
Jetfire slid into the coastal areas of the Cape of Good Hope, it wasn't called that anymore. If humans had a name for it, it would likely be the Cape of No Hope. The Decepticons didn't seem to deign naming mere geologic features such as capes, pennisulas and what not. They were after all a mere annoyance to be corrected when the planet was fully conquered and pacified not landmarks to be remembered.

All was silent now. While relaxed and unalert the Decepticon defenses would pick up a pair of Autobots conversing or otherwise making noise. Jetfire reached the shore and began to transmit a stolen code that would ID him as a Decepticon troop transport. It would not hold up to close attention but then it didn't have to. They reached the city where their target lay. The idea of causing such damage in the middle of a Decepticon population center made Breakout's circuits feel warm and fuzzy.

Jetfire landed and Breakout and Rodimus filed out. They were disguised to look like Decepticons themselves, it was unlikely they would pass any real security precautions however. Jetfire they knew would follow perhaps a Breem or two behind them. They moved quickly and with a purpose. For various reasons there were not many Decepticons out and about, making their task easier. Reaching the installation took perhaps 2 Breems. Rodimus stopped at the and signaled Breakout who took up position to rush as soon as the door was opened. Rodimus pulled out a circular electronic device, headheld for a standard sized Autobot and attached it to the door's touch plate. The touch plate was designed to only open in the event of being touched by a handful of Decepticons. It took perhaps a few Kliks for the device to defeat that and open the door.

Breakout didn't charge in like a thundering monster from myth. He flowed into the room, moving determinedly, quickly but quietly, stealth was the essence of survival. A single guard as promised was in the room attached to the door, the Con had been sitting watching something on a holoemitter, he began to rise up mouth opening when the door cranked
wide. Breakout was on him, knife flashing. The combat knife slammed into the Con's neck cutting off any chance of a cry.

"Surprise." Breakout whispered to the Con as the light in it's eyes faded out. Rodimus entered the room and moved into the installantion as Breakout lowered the Con's inert body to the floor gently, to avoid noise. Breakout began moving, the hallway connected to the enterance room went right and left, Rodimus would have went left as they had practiced.
Breakout went left. They had a Breem or a Breem and a half before Jetfire would arrive expecting to be let in. Breakout ran into the control room where a Con sat at computer supervising the environmental controls.
The Con spun around.

"Who in the Pit are GLAUGH!" Breakout's thrown knife slammed into the Con's mouth cutting off his question.

"I'm the slagmonster empty." Breakout smiled yanking out his knife. He flipped a switch awaking the video monitors. Rodimus was standing over two broken Con bodies. Figures. First things first, Breakout slide in a data disk that held a surprise for the Cons, then he headed back to the door to let in Jetfire.

"We got a half a Megacycle." Jetfire said has the door slide up.

"Yeah, yeah, keep your wiring straight." Breakout replied. They moved into the main area. Row after row of unformed, sparkless protoforms in protective metal shells laid out in front of them.

"Transform, I'll load you up as Rodimus plants the bombs." Breakout said, Jetfire nodded and transformed into his alt form. Breakout started hunting down and grabbing likely looking protoforms and hauling them into
Jetfire's cargo bay. Rodimus joined him shortly, together they grabbed a large protoform and tossed it into Jetfire. They loaded for several Breems before Rodimus called a halt.

"Time to go." Rodimus declared. Breakout nodded and climbed into Jetfire. Jetfire warmed up his engines and opened fire roaring out of the building.

"You're sure that trick of Preceptor's is gonna work?" Jetfire asked.

"Let's hope so or we're gonna be walking home," Breakout replied as Jetfire hit top speed.

Behind him the disk that Breakout had slipped into the computer uploaded a program into the Decepticon net. It spread quickly and deeply into every system in the city, when the bombs went off destroying one of the
protoform holding areas, the program kicked into gear.

It shut down all coms and replace every halo, screen visual and readout with a vision of a smirking Preceptor flashing a number of rude Cybertronian gestures. The caption underneath was in classic Cybertronian, from before the first Great War it read.

"The Autobots thank the Decepticon guardians of this city for their contribution to the Autobot War effort...suckers."

As Jetfire burned out of the now collapsing warehouse, they were finally spotted, by a Sentinel Robot. Not as large as the Guardian Robots, standing only roughly thirty meters tall, it non-the-less carried with it a fearful amount of firepower. Plasma charges and laser bolts flew around Jetfire as the Sentinel attempted to stop the escaping Autobots. Astroseconds later, as the warehouse exploded, the Sentinel Robot went with it, consumed in the blast.

Meanwhile the explosion spread fire and rumble across the city causing local forces to devote time to emergency response.

Jetfire blasted back towards Antarctica at top speed. Shaking his passengers who rode ontop of the protoforms locked in their protective metal shells.

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Shouted Rodimus as they thundered over Antarctica pursuit just now getting organized. Breakout grinned and added his own barbarous cry, this was living!

"We have 17 Decepticons behind us and they're catching up!" Jetfire cried.

"Just a little father Bot! The Aerialbots are suppose to met us with friends in South American airspace." Rodimus encouraged him.

"Easy for you say you're not carrying several megatons," Jetfire grunted adding more power to his engines. The Decepticons
drew into visual range has Jetfire flew over the Falkland islands, now deserted.

"Someone call for Air support?" Air Raid called out plunging into the Decepticon formation blasting away.

"Good job bot! We owe you an energon drink!" Breakout called out over the radio as they slipped back into free territory.

[LadyTevar]

Not all fights between 'Bots were that simple. As Crimson was repaired, feelings between herself and Stryke were tense. It was nearly three weeks before the argument that started onboard Skylynx came to a conclusion.

+++++

Stryke followed Crimson outside of the building. Since she had gotten out of the CR chamber, things hadn't been going well. They had got off to a rocky start, Stryke trying to mask his concern with anger at her apparent carelessness. "Come on, Crim, why can't you see it my way?"

"Did you expect me to just stand still and fire from the line?" Crimson nearly shouted, exasperated with Stryke's overprotective attitude. "I sniped Chimera, Blackout, and both combiners at times. I hit Chimera with a Grenade, and gave Megs, Soundwave, and Astrotrain the other. Maybe that's why Ravage was after me, hmm? Up until Ravage hit me, the only damage I took was to my paintjob!"

Stryke had crossed his arms, looking down at the smaller FemBot. "Hey, I'm not saying that you didn't do good, but I told you not to get your paint scratched. Then Ravage hit you and you let yourself be captured by that 'Con sneak. Who knows what he would have done to you?"

"I didn't -let- myself get captured," Crimson pointed out heatedly. "He hit me with a missile, and then scrambled my circuits! Who let him out of the CR chamber, anyway?! Hew as supposed to be locked up!"

Stryke had been wondering that himself, but he had a believable answer. "It might have been one of those little cassette punks. That's beside the point," It was aggrevating that she wasn't understanding how much danger she'd been in. "It took Hornet and, as much as it pains me to say it, Deathstrike, to save your cute little red fender!"

"I think more Hornet, since he took out Ravage..." Crimson started to reply, but had to stop and look up at Stryke curiously. " 'Cute little red fender'?" she repeated, making sure she'd heard him right.

"Thats fine if Hornet..." Stryke began to rant, but then froze as he realized what had slipped out. "Its an expression, Crim, don't read to much into it."

Amazing how fast he was trying to backtrack. " 'Cute Red Fender'?" She repeated, snickering at the idea. Is that what this fight was about, she wondered.

Stryke was getting flustered. "I'm telling you it was an expression," he protested, wishing that he'd been more careful with his words.

Crimson didn't believe a word of it. Snickering more, she turned to wiggle said fender at him, looking over her shoulder. "More than an expression, I think..." she teased. "You've been watching me."

Stryke put his hand to his head, trying not to look. "Grr, come on, Crim," he growled, trying to regain control of the argument. "it was just an expression. I didn't mean your fender was actually cute." And then he lost it again as Crimson started pouting. "I mean, yeah, it's not bad, but I mean..."

The pout was mostly feigned. "Awww..." she drawled, looking up at him with sad eyes. "..and here you had me hoping....." Now it was her turn to fall silent as she hadn't meant to say it that way.

It caught Stryke's attention immediately. "Wait, hoping what?" he asked, a part of his circuitry that he really wanted to ignore perking up.

Crimson had to laugh at the sudden change. She walked closer, smiling up at him. "Silly 'bot. Say what you mean sometime. Stop trying to hide it," she teased as she walked past him, just for the sole reason of playfully swatting his rear fender on the way. "I'm starting to like green, myself."

Stryke sputtered, hopping up on his toes at the swat that seemed to have scrambled his logic circuits as well somehow. "Um, by the way, Crim, I'm Olive Drab, not green, but close enough." It was a very weak comment, spoken softly. Softer still as he turned to look at her was the admittance "And I really like red better."

That made Crimson pause and look back at him with a wide grin. So, he could admit it. "See?" she laughed. "Was it that hard to admit?"

Stryke jerked his head as he realized once again his mental thoughts had come out his vocal circuits. "Scrap, forgot I said that outloud." he muttered, turning away. Primus! Why was it so hard to talk to her? His head lowered. "And yes, it was," he answered truthfully, not able to look at her.

The FemBot walked back to him, laying a hand on his arm. No laughter now, just a soft touch, and a soft voice of understanding. "You've been fighting too long, Stryke..." she said, even as she wasn't sure herself if she meant the War, or his own feelings.

The warbot looked at her face, and then down at her hand. He paused for a few cycles and then gently removed her hand. "We all have." His voice was bitter as he spoke. "And until its all done, I'm not letting anyone get close again. I let Quicksilver and the others get close, and they are all dead."

The pain in his voice chased the last trace of smile from Crimson's face. So many friends gone in the War. It hurt her to see him this way. "I think you broke that promise when we were fixing the turrents together, Stryke," she answered softly. She knew she'd been enjoying his company from the first day with the convoy.

Stryke could only look at her sadly. "I did." He admitted. "And when I heard you were captured,it almost scared my spark out of my chest. If I let you get too close again, then I'm not sure I could survive losing you."

What could she say to that? "You can't babysit me, Stryke..." she protested softly. "Just like I can't keep you from going out into the middle of the firefight." He'd been lucky this battle and been relatively untouched.

"Its too late now anyway." Stryke said sadly, forcing himself to continue. "All I know is that if I lose you, I know I won't recover. If I don't die in battle right then, I'll open up my chest and crush my spark, cause I can't lose another friend."

It was Crimson's turn to be flustered. "Now you're being melodramatic..," she spluttered. The idea was doing odd things to her logic and emotion circuitry, even worse than trying to understand Hornet. Finally she gave up trying to make sense of it all, stepping closer, arm going around him, head leaning against his chestplate. "You say the cutest things...." she sighed. It was rather romantic, in a dark way.

He stood still for a few cycles before putting his arms around her. "I mean it. I can't lose anymore friends. And I especially can't lose you." After all the years of protecting himself, one aggrevating little red FemBot had undone him. He looked down at her in his arms, struck by the sudden realization. "I never realized how short you are," he joked, bemused by how she fit nearly perfectly under his arm.

"Now you're being mean..," Crimson answered teasingly, laughing at how right he was. "Unless you mean short -and- cute."

Stryke laughed, looking down at her under his arm. "Well, I guess more Petite than short." He couldn't recall the last time he'd laughed so freely. "And yes, quite cute." Especially the little red curves, he thought to himself, arms tightening slightly around her.

"See, handsome? Not hard to admit at all..." She looked up at him with a grin, her own arms tightening slightly. "Since we're not on duty, feel like a late-night drive?" A nice drive, away from the base, a bit of privacy to talk things over perhaps...?

Stryke couldn't help but smile back down at her, giving her a light squeeze. "Handsome huh?" he quipped, then looked around at the base. Too close, too confined. "I would love to, Crim."

It was all she needed to push out of his arms. "Let's go..." she urged with a grin, transforming to roll out. "Think you can keep up with me this time?" her unhelmeted HoloRider teased as she started for the road.

Stryke transformed and chased after her. "Think you could slow down and be careful for once?" the HoloSoldier behind the wheel affectionately called out, revving his engine to catch up as she hit the gas and the road beyond.

[Charon]

Many of the Autobots had been injured. Mostly they were jobs that were relatively easy to fix, armor replacement, in more serious cases a limb needed replacing. Then there were the four big names among the injured. Optimus Prime, Grimlock, Overload, and Shellshock.

It had taken two full weeks before Breachload had been sufficiently repaired that they could risk seperating the two 'bots. Mostly for Overload's sake over Shellshock's. Though damage on the old warbot was extensive, his brother in battle had taken the full brunt of the blow. Protecting Shellshock's spark chamber.

After that, Shellshock was taken considerably off the priority list, though he still rated high. Even then it was a full five weeks after their return to the Ark that Shellshock was given a clean bill of health.

When Shellshock stepped out of the infirmary, the 'gears' in his mind turning, he was surprised to see a number of his teammates there waiting for him.

Breakout grinned and waved at Shellshock, "Yo Bot, enjoy the rest?"

Stryke looked up, smiling at Shellshock from his seat next to Crimson. "About time." He said. "I guess they finally got tired of your lazy self just laying about."

ornet seated atop a massive diagnostic table clearly built for a bot five times larger than he was, cables and various bits of assorted electronic equipment plugged into him and making soft beeping noises. The little bot had been horribly mangled last time around, and it had taken Wheeljack the better part of two weeks to find and seal the last microlacerations in his frame. The work was not fully complete yet. Still in his primer coat of paint, an off-putting orange that resembled a space shuttle fuel tank, Hornet grinned up at Shellshock and waved. He would have run over to say hello had he not been shackled to the table by the cords.

Crimson rose and smiled at the old Warbot. "We're glad you're with us again, ShellShock. Now it's just Hornet and Overload left."

Shellshock looked over the bots that had come to see him. A faint smile crossed the old warbots face, but it quickly died. For as happy as they seemed, Shellshock did not seem to share the emotion. Shellshock glanced over to Breakout, seeming to look closely at the military autobot. "I wouldn't really call it rest, more of a nap. When you've been in stasis as long as I have, a few weeks is nothing." Shellshock glanced in Stryke's direction. "I suppose." was all the giant 'bot said. They'd been around Shellshock long enough to know that the old warbot loved to trade wits with others. This apparent sign of meloncoly was shortlived though, as the warbot covered it up, smiling broadly at Hornet as he waved back. "And I hear from Wheeljack's mutterings that you proved yourself well in battle." Shellshock's mood again soured at the mention of Overload. "Thank you. Overload's damage was... extensive. It will be much longer before he is out."

Hornet would have blushed if he could have. He grinned as widely as he was able as he looked up at the massive warbot. "I... I got three assists!" he said. "Plus they said I might have even damaged Ravage enough to count as a.... a kill..." his voice faltered on the last word and he lowered his head slightly.

Stryke stood and put an arm around Crim. He nodded. "Yeah, he did look a little beat up last time I saw him. But, he's in a CR chamber, so he should be fine." The olive drab warbot said.

Breakout waved off the questions of the others dismissively. "Enough of that. So what you're planning on doing with your RnR Shell?"

Crimson leaned into Stryke's embrace ... obviously at some point the two of them had gotten over their fighting. But her face was serious as she looked at ShellShock. "He'll be ok, Shellshock," she said reassuringly. "I've been overhearing things while visiting Hornet." She looked over at the little bot. "And I'm telling you again, Ravage not only will be repaired, he'll come looking for us so we can beat him up again."

Shellshock nodded to the little bot. "You saved the lives of many autobots by your actions Hornet. It won't help much, but try to think more on the idea of those you helped. But as Crimson says, I doubt he's dead." Shellshock looked between Stryke and Crimson for a moment, his brows furrowed in apparent disaproval before he moved on, answering both their statements. "He shouldn't have to be fine later. And had I acted appropriately under the circumstances instead of attempting to battle two of the greatest gestaults among the Decepticons at once, he would not be in the condition he is." Shellshock had taken a few steps forward now, seemingly intent on getting around to other business. "Yeah Breakout, I was just about to get around to that actually. I have some plans to look over."

Hornet beamed as Shellshock told him that he had done well. Even if Crimson and Wheeljack and several others had been telling him that since he woke up, he was still having trouble believing it. "I hope..." he trailed off, intending to say that he hoped Ravage was okay, but he didn't really. Ravage had wanted to kill him and Crimson after all. Wheeljack had told him, like Shellshock, to focus on what he had saved, rather than what he had destroyed, and it helped certainly, but he still felt vaguely uneasy about having potentially killed the casetticon, unlikely as the prospect was. "But Ratchet said Overload's gonna be okay!" he chirped up at Shellshock happily. "He said that Overload will be out of the repair bay even before I am." He kicked lazily at the cords that swathed him as he did this, clearly impatient to get away from tests and diagnostics.

Stryke noticed the look of disapproval. Part of him wanted to call him on it right then, but he decided to hold back. "At least we got all our 'bots out intact." He said. "The 'Cons hit the west, where we had the smallest of our bots, since thats where the defense grid was up the most. They avoided where all our heavy hitters were. At least until they were ready to hit us." He looked over at Hornet. "And you, Hornet, you saved my life and Crim's."

Breakout looked at the old warbot and shook his head. "If you hadn't fought the two of them they would have mopped the floor with us." The newer warbot shrugged, "So I wouldn't worry over it. The bit with the melting metal in Pedaking's face was actually kinda classy."

Crimson also noted the look of disapproval. Too bad. "Honestly, Shellshock, if Breachload had not been there, the two Combiners would have rolled right over us. We wouldn't have had a chance..." Her voice trailed off a little, her optics flicking behind Shellshock for a moment.

"Out of the repair bay... Maybe. Proficient in this new body... I'd not bet on it." The voice could only be one grouchy old bot, massive in size and bulky in build. Much less like an out-of-date train and more like someone had taken a random selection of parts from an aircraft with massive turbines and a maglev hauler. "And yes, you're all quite welcome for me and Shell providing cover." A smirk on his face as he stretched.

Breakout meanwhile grinned savagely.

Shellshock had been ignoring most of what they'd said, his mind told him that they were right. But Shellshock was what many would refer to as 'an old crotchety warbot' and as such ignored what they said as simply attempting to make his failure appear better. All that was forgotten however, when Shellshock heard the voice of his brother in battle behind him. Not missing a beat the huge 'bot turned and in an odd show of emotion hugged the other bot. Then released him and punched him in the gut. "What the hell are you doing? Getting a new form. What was wrong with the last one, now who the hell is gonna haul me around?" The old bot was still grinning though, his red optics a shade lighter than they had been before.

Despite his inability to change color from the rediculous carrot-orange that Wheeljack had left him in for now, Hornet clearly blushed when Stryke claimed he had saved Crimson and his lives. Looking back on everything that had happened, what he had done seemed almost paltry compared to Breechload taking on two Gestault teams and fighting them both to a standstill, or Deathstrike flinging Decepticons down by the half dozen. He wasn't sure what to say to that, other than an awkward "T... thanks!"

Stryke smiled at the two. "Well, now that Overload is back, looks like Shellshock isn't so grumpy anymore." He looked down at Crim and then back to the others. "Anyway, does everyone just want to keep standing here in the repair bay?" He looked over at Hornet. "No offense, little bot."

Breakout still grinning slapped Shellshock's back. "Here I go into the dark depths of the Con Empire, just me and Roddy to steal your buddy a new body so you won't mope and you bitch about it? You are an old solder. You're welcome anyways."

Hornet grimaced at Stryke as he reminded him that he was stuck in the repair bay for at least another week. "Well at least Overload gets to change bodies when he wants!" he said, "Wheeljack told me I can't." Secretly, Hornet was relieved that he wouldn't one day wake up having been changed into a car or a speedboat or something else altogether. He loved being a jet, and didn't even mind being so small to be honest.

Crimson was grinning as wide as she could. "Rodimus couldn't keep his mouth shut ... I'm surprised we were able to hide it this long." Slipping her arm around Stryke, she looked up at him fondly, then to the assembled 'Bots. "I've been told Gridlock's been making his Vodka again, and has a stash of it just waiting for someone to try some."

The newly refurnished hauler laughed as he was gut-punched in his armour belt, grinning as his friend. "What, all these years and you still need a chauffer? Don't worry, I can pull you along rails still." A friendly thump was given on his shoulder. "Though I'll need a bit to get used to this body.. Breakout was kind enough to get me a Decepticon protoform, but it's got some unusual additions. Flying will be.. An experience."

Hornet piped up. "Don't worry Overload! Flying's easy! I'll show you when you finished getting rebuilt!" It was testament to Hornet's powers of self-deception that he saw nothing frightening in the prospect.

Shellshock was too busy laughing to catch some of what was going on, but he caught enough. "I'll have to thank you then Breakout, and I owe you one." Shellshock then looked back at Overload. "Sometimes I wish I'd been built a bit later so I could fly, but I'm not eager to lose this one, grown attached to it. As for rails..." The old war bot shifted some, concentrating some the warbot's steel train wheels seemed to grow rubber. "They insisted on it. I'd wondered why, but they did it, don't need the rails, though I still feel best there. Then the old warbot got a devious look on his face. "As for Hot Rod, I'll just have to entertain him with a few war stories between Overload, Kup, and I." Everyone knew that this would fall under the lines of cruel and unusual punishment in most countries, even ones controlled by Decepticons. "But enough of that, let's go drink to healed wounds!"

With that the Autobots wandered down to the energon stores, partaking in vodka soaked energon until most of them couldn't stand straight. While in that condition, Shellshock told Overload of his plan. After that, the two bots were secreted away quite often, planning for something that they would not share with anyone else.

[Cynical Cat]

A midnight blue Cybertronian jet fell through the clouds. Deathstrike was almost invisible against the night sky as he glided/fell through the air. The Autobots had been reasonably skilled in rebuilding his systems, but they were too conservative. They lacked the fire to design and push systems to their maximum possible performance, opting instead for efficiency and broad safety margins. It was the mindset of a mass producer of civilian products, not that of the designers of a high performance war machine. Not the mindset of his maker.

Still, they did good work. They had begun to adjust to the realities and capabilities of his resource hungry design as they had worked, which meant that he might once again reach his full potential. They might even make a replacement for the warp drive he had been installed with, all those vorns ago.

Beneath him the tops of trees grew closer and closer. Being able to fly again, to not worry about conserving every erg of power, was a joy almost equal to that of battle. He didn't fit in the with Autobots and probably never would. That didn't matter.

The trees rushed toward him. He waited two astroseconds and then his engines roared back to life. Superheated air blasted out of his thrusters as he skimmed above the trees and then pointed his nose up, leaping back into the sky. He went to full power, sounding a loud boom and leaving glowing trail of plasma that lit up the night. This was living.

[General Havoc]

"For Primus' sake, Hornet, hold STILL!"

Hornet sat on the edge of the workbench and did his level best to remain motionless, as Wheeljack worked him over with a paint sprayer. His decals and silver trim were already finished, as was most of his light blue body paint. Not blessed with a particularly large reserve of patience, and more eager than anything to get out of this repair bay after so many weeks of idly waiting to get pieced back together, Hornet nevertheless did try to remain motionless as the painting was finished, but finally failed when Wheeljack attempted to finish by spraying the undersides of Hornet's feet. Hornet let out a yelp of surprise and reflexively twitched, causing Wheeljack to paint another blue smear on the workbench.

"Hornet!" exclaimed Wheeljack with exasperation.

"It tickles!" protested Hornet.

"It... what?! I thought I disabled that!" Wheeljack turned to a diagnostic machine and typed a few commands in. "I DID disable that, what are you..."

"It DOES!" insisted Hornet, crossing his wings and staring up at Wheeljack implacably. Wheeljack thought for a moment, and then picked up a bottle of compressed air, spraying Hornet's side with it gently.

Hornet yelped again and laughed and shied away from the air can, and Wheeljack smirked. "Well so it does," he said, "I guess the the shutdown was overridden somehow. I'll have to dig through the code to find out."

"So... we can't finish?" asked Hornet mournfully. And he was so close to being let go...

"I didn't say that," said Wheeljack with a smirk. Hornet brightened up for a second before he suddenly realized what Wheeljack meant.

"W... wait!"

With a smile that belied his amusement at the situation, Wheeljack gently but firmly pushed Hornet down onto the workbench and held him in place with one hand as he brought the paint sprayer around and remorselessly finished the process of touching up Hornet's paint scheme, particularly on the soles of his feet. Hornet hollered and yelped and laughed uncontrollably and cried for help and squirmed about as best he could, but Wheeljack pinned Hornet easily to the workbench, tickling him mercilessly as he shot Hornet with the paint sprayer here and there, taking his time so as to ensure an even coat, before finishing up with the compressed air can, which if possible seemed to tickle even worse. Or perhaps that was the point. Wheeljack let the quick-setting paint dry fully, making liberal use of the compressed air to facilitate it, before stepping back a moment to admire his own handiwork. He smiled as he shot Hornet a few more times with the compressed air can (just for good measure), sending the helpless little bot into further convulsions of hysterical laughter, before finally setting it aside and releasing Hornet, who immediately curled up into a small, gently quivering ball.

"All done," said Wheeljack.

Hornet needed a minute or so to calm down, and Wheeljack waited patiently. "R... Really?" he said as he slowly sat back up.

"Yep, all set," said Wheeljack. "Unless of course you'd prefer we add another paint coat, just to be sure..."

"No!" yelped Hornet, and Wheeljack laughed.

"Then maybe next time you'll be a bit more careful in scuffing your paint up, eh? Now that you know what happens when we have to repaint you."

"I'll... I'll be careful!" insisted Hornet.

"Liar..." said Wheeljack, but his tone was more endearing than upset. "Still, I refuse to let Ironhide punish you corporally when you screw up, so I have to invent some way of making you pay attention."

Hornet nodded. "I'm... sorry I got hurt..." he said.

Wheeljack narrowed his optics. "Got hurt? What do you..."

"Back at the oil field. I'm sorry I got all cut up and broken..." Hornet's optics were lowered and his tone was soft and remorseful. Wheeljack's optics widened and he put down the paint sprayer.

"Hornet, listen to me," said the Autobot scientist as he picked the little bot up gently. "You don't ever have to apologize to me for getting damaged in a battle like that. Not EVER. You did precisely what you were supposed to do, above and beyond even. I couldn't possibly be more proud."

Hornet blinked like a deer in headlights. "R... Really?"

"Of course!" exclaimed Wheeljack with a smile. "You took on Decepticons with millions of years of experience, triple your firepower, and twelve times the armor, but beyond all that you did the absolute best you could in defense of your fellow Autobots. You think I would get upset with you over a severed limb and some damaged plating after THAT?"

"I... I guess not..." said Hornet hesitantly. "But... I mean you always get upset with me whenever I get damaged..."

"I get upset when you damage yourself through your own carelessness," said Wheeljack, carefully explaining the difference. "I will never get upset with you for doing what's right, even if it means more work fixing you, and even if Ironhide or the others disagree. Do you understand?"

Hornet nodded slowly, and Wheeljack smiled. "Good," he said as he gently patted Hornet on the head. "Besides, you know that I'd always repair you even if it meant having to rebuild your frame from scratch, right?"

Hornet did not answer with words, but in his own inimitable fashion, giving Wheeljack a big hug around the neck. Wheeljack, long-since used to this sort of odd behavior on Hornet's part, gently patted him on the back before slowly disentangling himself and setting Hornet back down on the workbench.

"Of course I reserve the right to make you pay for it," said Wheeljack with a smirk as he shot Hornet lightly with the compressed air can a few more times, sending Hornet scurrying away to the other side of the workbench, giggling happily. Wheeljack set the can aside and helped Hornet hop down onto the ground.

"Well you're all set, so do try and make this paint job last for at least a few hours, eh?" said Wheeljack.

"I will!" chirped Hornet. "Thanks, Wheeljack!"

"My pleasure," said the Autobot scientist. "Now go bug someone else. I have work to do."

Hornet smiled and waved goodbye and ran out the door, scampering down the hallway as the door slid shut behind him. Wheeljack watched him leave and remained standing still for a few moments, shaking his head and smiling, before finally turning back to clean up the paint spray that covered most of the workbench, and to whisper a brief prayer to Primus that the little bot wouldn't be needing any major repairs for some time.

He knew it was too much to ask that he never need them again.

[Dark Silver]

One and a half months after the battle of Fort Maximal

The Decepticons moved quickly, no sooner than the Autobots had retreated, did the Decepticons crews move in. The injured and stasis locked were transferred to New Kaon for repairs - as the experts in construction moved in. With the expertise and speed of the Constructicons, along with the raw labor of Decepticons, drones and human slaves, Fort Maximal was redesigned, rebuilt, and turned fully functional within three weeks. By the fourth week, it reached maximum energon production, as the Decepticons began to drain the tar sands. Regular patrols - both land and air - left the new Decepticon stronghold with a precision which could only be described as clockwork.

Autobot scouts sent to learn of a weakness - to help spearhead a assault to retake the former Autobot base, where never heard from again.

----- o ----- o -----

He stood upon the battlefield, Grimlock rampaging towards him, the thundering dolt in his dinosaur altmode. He raised his cannon, unleashing the interlocks on his mighty weapon, opening the link to the blackhole trillions of light years away from this miserable mudball of a planet. His entire body shuddered with the ecstasy of unbridled power as the inter dimensional link between his weapon and the cannon flood his form.

The blast nearly blinded his optics, but through the glare, the blinding light, and the utter drain of power he felt running through him, the warnings scrolling past his vision, he saw Grimlock consumed by the blast. The blast died out, as quickly as it had come, and he shuddered. He was suddenly tired, his every system, even his chassis felt strained to the breaking point....

Grimlock fell before him, armor slagged, darkened, deformed. Yet his former ally - a colleague in the gladiator pits of Cybertron - took several steps forward. This was it...he couldn't move, his very being was drained..this is how he would deactivate....

Grimlock fell, the massive head falling barely a half meter infront of him. The ground shook with the massive weight collapsing upon it, and he laughed.

He laughed as the plain caught on fire about him. Smoke obscured his optics, and his laughter rose up through the air.

He felt the mighty, despite the fact his body couldn't move. Then he heard the voice behind him. He turned, painfully. No...it wasn't possible. He had seen him on the ground, felled....

The pain encomassed his entire being, his mouth opened, and he screamed.....

"RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRR"

Megatron spasmed as his vocal actuators filled the room with the sound of his rage and pain.

"Ahh...excellent.....you felt that..." Trauma, rose from his position of leaning over Megatron, the Decepticon Commander's newly reconstructed face still twisted in pain. "I have successfully repaired the damage to your face and vocal processors..replaced your optic sensors... The damage was very extensive Commander...I was momentarily worried I would not be ab...ggaaaahhhhaakkk"

Trauma's vocal actuators were silenced as Megatron's hand shot up, cold metal fingers slid around his throat, and squeezed. Trauma's optics would have widened, if they were able to, and Magatron hissed as he spoke, "If you have any further tests, Doctor, either you disconnect my pain sensors, or I shall disconnect your central processing unit!"

With more effort than he could ever admit, Megatron flung Trauma back, sending the Decepticon surgeon into the far wall. Slowly, he rose from the table, his body still heavily damaged, his armor half slagged, his left arm still hung loosely. In the corner, locked in CR Pods, where several of his most powerful and loyal warriors, including Blackout and Chimera.

"You have a lot of work ahead of you, Doctor. I suggest you begin it. Send each survivor to me for debriefing as soon as they are capable of it."

"Y..Yes, Mighty Megatron."

Trauma watched him leave, then shook his head. Barely functional, living on tertiary power and triply-patched backup circuits, and he still takes immediate command. And that idiot Starscream thinks he can do the job?

Hah!

No one but Megatron would ever lead the Decepticons. They simply lacked the struts.

Now....who here had the most...interesting...wounds?


----- o ----- o -----


Megatron sat in his throne, his still heavily damaged form remained imposing, half shrouded in darkness, only his red optics glimmering.

"Report Soundwave.." he spoke hoarsely.

"Shockwave will arrive upon next Spacebridge transmission. Estimated four breems till arrival."

"Excellent. He shall assume command of our war here on Earth, serve him as you would me Soundwave..but watch him."

"As you command, mighty Megatron."


----- o ----- o -----


Two Weeks Later

Shockwave stood infront of the view screen, his single perfect optic observing the data as it scrolled.

It was as he feared - with the might of the Decepticon Army upon this planet, the whole of the world should be theirs, the Autobots and humans vanquished. Megatron squandered their resources, their might, holding them back.
"Data: Decepticons possesses in excess of 60% energy resources of Earth, in excess of 60% viable landmass, in excess of 2-to-1 numerical odds. Data: Autobot Resistance remains preset. Hypothesis: Megatron has allowed emotion to overrule logic. Conclusion: New leadership is required."

Megatron was in stasis until his repairs were complete, Earth and the entire Decepticon Army was his to command until Megatron awoke from the stasis lock he voluntarily placed himself into.

It was time he exercised his new power.

[LadyTevar]

One and a half months after the battle of Fort Maximal

The Decepticons moved quickly, no sooner than the Autobots had retreated, did the Decepticons crews move in. The injured and stasis locked were transferred to New Kaon for repairs - as the experts in construction moved in. With the expertise and speed of the Constructicons, along with the raw labor of Decepticons, drones and human slaves, Fort Maximal was redesigned, rebuilt, and turned fully functional within three weeks. By the fourth week, it reached maximum energon production, as the Decepticons began to drain the tar sands. Regular patrols - both land and air - left the new Decepticon stronghold with a precision which could only be described as clockwork.

Autobot scouts sent to learn of a weakness - to help spearhead a assault to retake the former Autobot base, where never heard from again.

The loss of the base weighed heavily on Crimson.

As before, when she'd lost the cargo of Energon vorn ago, Crimson felt she had failed her duty. She'd been specifically ordered to help Gridlock set the oilrig to blow, but had allowed Gridlock to convince her he'd gotten it done. Yet, the oilrig had not blown as planned. If she'd done her job, she'd have prevent the Decepticons from not only gaining the base, but gaining a strong foothold on this hemisphere. If she'd done her job, the Autobots who'd vanished wouldn't have been sent there.

I should have doublechecked it. I should have not let Gridlock talk her out of it. Why did he stop me from checking? Pride? When did he do it, anyway? He was taking Swiftshot to the CR Chamber (look how well -that- turned out). Did he have Wideload do it? Is that why it didn't blow? Why didn't I doublecheck it!

Her logic circuits spun like wheels stuck in mud, with about as much use. She couldn't stop blaming herself for not checking over Gridlock's work.

[General Havoc]

Hornet however had no such thoughts weighing on his mind or spark. The greater concerns of world-wide strategy and logistics were as alien to him as the surface of another planet. Hornet's concerns were decidedly local and simple. To have fun, to be with his friends, to avoid getting a speaker-lashing from Ironhide or the other command-level Autobots, and (last but not least) to avoid getting himself killed somehow, a risk which rose and fell with their proximity to Decepticons, but never actually went away.

Released at long last from the confines of the repair bay, Hornet was by now skipping (yes, skipping) down the hallway of the Autobot base, relieved beyond measure to be set free once again, to be able to FLY once again. He never realized how much he missed flying until he was stuck in the repair bay for an extended period. He had intended to go straight outside and fly for a couple of hours, but on the way there, he spotted Crimson, and as usual, spontaneously changed his mind.

"Crimson!" he chirped happily as he bounded over to her. "Look!" he said, raising his wings and turning a complete circle, "I'm all fixed!" As usual, his repairs had gone at half the speed of everyone else's, if only because Wheeljack was extra-careful to the point of paranoia with him, cross-checking every single aspect of his work a dozen times, testing each circuit by hand, so as not to "spoil his experiment". Hornet honestly didn't usually mind so much being an experiment (it enabled him to get Wheeljack's attention whenever he wanted), but he wished it didn't mean quite SO many hours spent in tests or repairs.

Wrapped up in his own happiness at having been liberated at last, it wasn't until then that Hornet noticed Crimson looked... well less than supremely happy. Suddenly concerned, Hornet lowered his wings again as well as his tone. "Crimson?" he asked, "Is everything okay?"

[Cynical Cat]

Deathstrike walked angrily through the Ark. The Autobots had allowed the Decepticons to become entrenched at Fort Maximal, which was a disaster. That just compounded Deathstrike's nagging suspicions.

How had Black Ice escaped the CR chambers? There were a number of possibilities, but the Decepticon destruction of the maintenance bay had ended any chance of directly finding out. Had a Casseticon let him out or had someone else done it? Why had the surviving defences failed as they had? And had Swiftshot's story been so crappy because he was assured that it wouldn't be questioned, only to have suspicion aroused when he took that run at Deathstrike?

He had no proof. None at all. But he had suspicion. And he was impatient. He yearned to strike, to burn through the air and turn his enemies into smoldering enemies. This was war. They were outnumbered. Their enemy was gathering strength. Now was the time to bloody them, to hurt them and seize the initiative. And the Autobots did nothing.

[LadyTevar]

"Crimson!" he chirped happily as he bounded over to her. "Look!" he said, raising his wings and turning a complete circle, "I'm all fixed!" (snip)

Wrapped up in his own happiness at having been liberated at last, it wasn't until then that Hornet noticed Crimson looked... well less than supremely happy. Suddenly concerned, Hornet lowered his wings again as well as his tone. "Crimson?" he asked, "Is everything okay?"

There was just something about the irrepressible teenybot that made Crimson smile. "So, WheelJack finally stopped fussing over you?" she chuckled. "Looks like he did a good job repainting as well."

[General Havoc]

As always, Hornet brightened up immediately the instant Crimson paid any attention to him at all.

"He kept running all these tests, like always," said Hornet with a groan as he rolled his optics. "And then he said I had to get three whole coats of paint! Getting painted tickles! He knows that! I think sometimes he's just trying to be mean."

Hornet didn't really mean that of course, and as proof he grinned and turned in a circle again. "You really like it?"

[frigidmagi]

I had found Deathstrike stomping about the base and had quickly talked him into a trip to the target range. A truly massive room, where holographic targets could pop up from anywhere. It saddens me that few Autobots take advantage of such well made training aide unless they are directly ordered to. Unfortunely may of my fellow Autobots are truly lousy war machines and do their level best to pretend they are not in a war when not actually engaged in battle. I believe this to be one of the leading reasons for our current problem. I have been ordered to stop saying this.

Our energy weapons are powered down to avoid tearing up the walls. It is I suppose an acceptable compromise but an outdoor training aide would render the need for this mute. We concentrate on targeting shooting for some time, working out some frustration. I have had a number of arguments with Ironhide about the need to retake Fort Maximal. He is to cautious a solder for all his legendary armor. Feeling the need for verbal communication on this I speak.

"There are not many war machines within our force's ranks. It has had an effect on our tactics. In my view it leads to being overly cautious at times. I believe you may have noticed this?" I say firing on a holographic representation of Starscream in his alt mode, the computers chime a direct hit.

[Cynical Cat]

Deathstrike found it suprisingly pleasing to be in Breakout's company. It reminded him of the conversations he had had with Shockwave, back in the old days.

"I concur," said Deathstrike. "We have wasted the window of opportunity granted to us by Megatron's fall. He has either recovered or another Decepticon has taken control. Fort Maximal's fortifications will be repaired and reinforced." He picked off a running target. "I am glad you agree."