Transformers: Steel Reign

[LadyTevar]

"Someone seems to have closed off the worst leaks," Crimson said, looking over the oddly silent Hornet. "But we'll have to have WheelJack look him over."

[Cynical Cat]

"If we are going to personally deal with New York, we should attempt to include any useful 'bots from reinforcements," said Deathstrike. "In any case, we are likely to be outgunned by what awaits us, but it might make all the difference."

[SirNitram]

"We'll see. We need a good repair cycle." Overload wasn't happy about that. "In that case, we may need to leave New York to others, if you and Breakout can work out how to snarl the offensive by cutting it's lines of supply or causing enough damage to get them on the defensive. You two are smart bots. I have all faith."

[Cynical Cat]

No, you don't. You just don't want me to continue speaking. Very well then. It's clear that I am just the stupid Decepticon thug. "Attach that power line," Deathstrike ordered the humans. "I will consult with Breakout and attempt of devise a strategium that will be of use."

[General Havoc]

Hornet was in no mood to try and speak over Deathstrike, who was, as usual, raging and screaming at everyone, including at Hornet himself for the indescribable sin of having played his games of aerial tag. He might normally have started crying again, or worse, but he simply couldn't manage it, not right now. He had far, far worse things to feel sorry for than the game he had played with the human pilots, and as he thought of this he wondered idly if they were all right. He hoped they were... but he feared many might not be.

"I... I can't... fly..." he said weakly, still curled up on the table, and hugging Crimson like a life preserver. That much should have been obvious enough, what with the one wing missing and the hole through his head. "I don't think... I don't think I can... make it to... to New... York... like this..."

It wasn't until then that it dawned on him what the others were talking about.

"Wait," he said, "what... what happened to... to New York?"

[LadyTevar]

Crimson grimaced, then looked down at Hornet. "We're not sure yet. All communications have been lost."

[Dark Silver]

In the distance, the former Decepticon base of Pontihex exploded brillantly, the bombs and explosions setting off the oil sands and extraction facilities.

The fires would burn for days at least, possibly even years if they were not kept under control, great plumes of black smoke rising into the air in Sky Shadow's wake.




Prime had gone around, checking on his soldiers, offering his assistance where possible to those to heavily damaged, when he finally arrived at the Convoy's location.

Optimus looked upon them, blue optics taking them each in, and giving them a nod, they had done their jobs well. "We'll be falling back to the Ark, Jazz is remaining behind with a few of most easily repaired, to assist the humans in securing the area. Everyone else, I want you onboard Jetfire in twenty Earth minutes."

Without waiting for any replies, he walked away, to finish spreading the orders. They would be returning home soon.

[LadyTevar]

Crimson had straightened up when Prime entered, and even tried to nudge Hornet a little higher so he could see Prime looking them over, meeting their optics and acknowledging them before giving them the nod and their marching orders.

In Prime's wake, Crimson sighed. "Well... Someone will have to help me carry Hornet." She absently wondered if she would be asked to remain behind as one who was 'easily repaired', and in fact was barely touched.

[Charon]

Shellshock nodded. "Understood Prime." The warmachine looked down at Crimson and then gently reached out and picked Hornet up, being careful not to further damage him. "Once we get to the Ark, we'll all be fixed up real quick like, and Overload can get himself another protoform." Shellshock grinned at that last jibe at his brother.

[SirNitram]

"Given my track record, I'm starting to think I should just start getting installed into whatever Human vehicle looks sturdiest each time." Overload rumbled as the treads engaged and he started rolling back out of the hangar. "It'd be a damn sight faster."

[LadyTevar]

Unburdened for the moment, Crimson slid down from the repair table and moved over to help Stryke get back on his feet, giving him back the make-shift crutches she'd salvaged from some of the trees blown down from the explosion.

"I don't know, Overload... somehow you just don't seem to fit as a tank."

[Cynical Cat]

"My internal damage can be handled by my self repair systems," said Deathstrike as he directed another plate to welded into place. "And most of my armour damage is being dealt with. I will need to reload. And Prime, you need an air commander. Badly."

[General Havoc]

Shellshock reached down and slowly picked Hornet up, and Hornet reluctantly let go of Crimson to permit him to do so. Going back to the Ark right now sounded... really nice, indescribably nice. He wondered for a moment where Wheeljack was, but realized that he was probably off helping everyone else that was badly damaged. Wheeljack was always trying to help people...

"Can... we go home?" he asked Shellshock weakly, his systems already starting to spin down into a sleep cycle.

[Charon]

Shellshock nodded some as he stepped out of the maintainance bay, his heavy footfalls sounding of far off thunder. "We're gonna be on our way real soon Hornet, you just go into stasis lock and when you wake up Wheeljack will be fussing over you all over again." Shellshock grinned.

[Dark Silver]

"I'll take it under advisement Deathstrike....but for now, I want all of you onto Jetfire, I'll be sending Slipstream to recon things on the East Coast. I'll want all of you repaired for a mission just incase he requires backup. And that means, you'll need the repair facilities at the Ark to be in top condition, not scrapped together patch welds in the field."

With that, Prime made it clear he was finished, and moved to finish getting the team left behind ready.

[General Havoc]

"Oh... ok...ay...." said Hornet sleepily, and without so much as another whisper, he quietly fell asleep, entering sleep mode rather than stasis lock, though the difference was likely imperceptable to anyone without a diagnostic scanner.

[B4UTRUST]

Slipstream wasn't sure exactly where he was, or how he had gotten here. He tried to figure out how long he had been out of it. He tried to call up his last few conscious breems. There was fragmentation, disparity errors, missing data.
'Not again,' he thought to himself.

He ran a diagnostics sequence, hopeing to piece back together some of the missing events. It was sketchy at best. He remembered being in the air. A fire fight. Seekers. Four of them. They scored hits on his underbelly and he thought he had gotten at least one of them. He recalled an explosion of some sort. He wasn't sure what, or where. The sensation of falling, a lack of control. Did he impact? He looked around him. The lack of significant terrain damage told him that if he had he had bounced a very long distance from the impact point. And at such speeds it was unlikely that he would be as undamaged as he was. He must have been concious enough to set down. The explosion must have caused the memory dump, knocked him offline somehow.

He checked the rest of his systems, making sure nothing else was amiss. As far as he could tell, he was more or less completely functional and operating within tolerable limits. Flight systems were nominal. He better report back before they miss him or think he was AWOL.

Slipstream took to the air and transformed. Gathering his bearings he made his way back to the Autobot encampment. As he approached he saw the damage of the battle, the sheer destruction everywhere. He set down and walked the rest of the way in, afraid of being accidently mistaken for a 'con coming back for more.

He made his way further into the encampment and managed to overhear the tail end of Optimus' plans. He was apparently being sent to go recon the east coast. Why, he wasn't sure, but he believed it would at least be explained. Did the 'cons attack there too?

[Cynical Cat]

"As you command, Prime," said Deathstrike. He finished the last weld and loaded new ordinance before leaving the repair area to find Jetfire.

[LadyTevar]

Crimson followed the rest out, helping Stryke limp his way over. Halfway there, she started laughing.

"Well... that's a thought. Who do I paint with neon pink polkadots, since everyone of you got your paint scratched worse than I did?" Yes, it was a bet between her and Stryke, but at this point she needed the release of a little bit of laughter.

[Agent Fisher]

Stryke shook his head, limping into the transport. "Primus, if I power down and wake up with polkadots, I swear Crim, you'll regret it." He said, but with a clear tone of amusement.

[frigidmagi]

I rolled into Jetfire, still in vehicle form. It's easier then transforming at this point. I park myself and slide into idle. I am digging through the maps and recent intel reports I have downloaded. Nothing classified, never carry classified matierals if you can avoid it. Mostly looking at where the Cons have located most of their energy and industry facilities.

I may be able to plot out a strike.

[LadyTevar]

Crimson chuckled, giving his rear fender a love tap. "Only if you find where I put them, Stryke. Or we could put polka dots on Hornet... maybe a targeting reticle on Overload, since he's lost another body."

Crimson looked up at Shellshock, needing to laugh and joke after the stress and fear of combat. "Maybe we should paint Hornet?"

[Charon]

Shellshock remained silent as he bent down to step into Jetfire's hanger. His flickering optic focused on Breakout for a moment before the old warbot himself sat down next to the newer, still holding Hornet between his arms as a human may hold a baby.

Shellshock spun down, letting his auto-repair systems take over, dedicating a small portion of his mind towards what may be at New York City.

[SirNitram]

Overload, still trapped in the form of a vehicle, rumbled up the ramp and into Jetfire's hangar. He pulled up next to the other vehicle-form Autobot, Breakout, and cued up the private comms.

"Hey." He said quietly, and somehow, the old bot felt sheepish, as he addressed the much younger one. "...Sorry about the delay up there. With dealing with Shockwave. Knew he'd have something up his sleeve, but I was enjoying myself far too much. Sorry for being such a civbot on you."

[Cynical Cat]

Deathstrike saw Breakout roll into Jetfire. He had spent little time with the Autobot, but in that time he had been favorably impressed. "Breakout, could I speak with you for a moment?"