Transformers: Steel Reign

[Charon]

Finishing with his slow, meditative movements, Blindside drew his feet together, his optics closed for a moment with a small smile on his face, his hands held as if grasping a small sphere in front of his abdomen.

Hearing Shellshock making his exit, and that he appeared to be heading to the training area, Blindside's optics opened to reveal his golden eyes once more. "No offense taken Shellshock, but the offer is open should you ever change your mind. If you've no objections though, I'd like to join you in this training area, as I'd like some exercise as well."

Shellshock glanced back at Blindside and examined him for a few moments before he nodded slowly. "Sure, be good to see what you're capable of in a fight now."

[rhoenix]

Nodding his acceptance, Blindside walked with his hands clasped behind him next to Shellshock, as they approached the training area. They talked a bit about the days past.

Shellshock couldn't resist asking, a slight smirk on his face as he did. "So, do you still have that burn mark on your back?"

At this, Blindside laughed. "I had that burn mark from your shell for months after that. I couldn't blame you though; was that the third time I made you drop a shell as you were loading up?"

Shellshock's smirk grew wider as he remembered that time. "Fourth, actually. I'd have let it go after the first, or even the second time."

Shaking his head as he chuckled, Blindside remembered the time as well. He replied as they approached the entrance to the training area. "May those times be left in the past, then. Ratchet wouldn't fix that burn mark you left for months. He said it was to teach me a lesson. Looking back, I really can't blame him."

Chuckling as he began keying in the sequences for the training room on the interior wall, Shellshock looked back as he finished. "Let me go first, kid. I'll show you how this works."

Nodding his acceptance, Blindside smiled. "By all means."

[Charon]

Shellshock transformed, gears shifting and twisting into place as thick armor plates moved to cover the new form. It took only a few moments, and Shellshock was in his alt. mode, anti-personel cannons were placed on his right and left fore, with one on his aft. Along either side of him ran a bank of missiles, and on the top, a double-barreled cannon swiveled from side to side. Shellshock was taking it easy first, 15 stationary targets were quickly emplaced and Shellshock rolled out.

Finding a mediocum of cover behind a hill Shellshock came to a quick stop as training lasers impacted along the cover. One blast deflected off of the side of the turret and Shellshock quickly turned his cannons, firing on one of the targets. Orange plasma lept from the cannon and smashed the target apart as Shellshock's sensor grid targeted 6 of the other targets and fired off a salvo of missiles. One of the missiles was shot down but the other five reached their targets, obliterating those as well as Shellshock moved on from behind his cover. His anti-personel guns tracked one of the targets, slowly tearing it apart as the main gun turned and fired another salvo into a grouping of targets, throwing them aside where quick fire from his anti-personel guns finished the job.

The five remaining targets began pumping fire out onto Shellshock and his armor simulated taking damage, secondary systems on various levels shut down to be in keeping with the damage taken. Shellshock fired off a pair of missiles and brought another target down as he brought his main gun to bear, firing from one barrel, then the other, expertly turning the last four targets to a glowing hot hulk of metal.

As the simulation ended Shellshock transformed again, coming up to his full height he pursed his lips. "Hmm, wasn't bad I suppose... Could've done better."

[rhoenix]

Watching with admiration, Blindside watched Shellshock obliterate the training bots with furious salvos. Seeing Shellshock be critical of his own performance made Blindside chuckle softly.

At this, Shellshock turned, smiling predatorily at Blindside. "Alright kid, your turn. Do you want stationary targets, or moving ones?"

Blindside looked thoughtful for a moment. "Moving targets, please. The stationary ones are no fun."

This elicited a chuckle from Shellshock as he finished keying in the startup sequence. "Alright kid, let's see what you can do."

At this, Blindside closed his eyes for just a moment, his arms held at his sides. He remained motionless for a bare second at most, his perception of time beginning to slow down to a crawl. Upon hearing the movement of the training robots, his golden optics opened, the expression on his face one of reserved calm.

To his perception, Blindside ran with slow steps, though in reality, he was running in robot form as fast as he could. The training bots moved more slowly, beginning to acquire target lock upon him, and moving to surround him.

As they began to fire, Blindside slowed to a walk, shifting around with graceful movements as the beams flew around him on all sides, some only barely missing. Those same beams began hitting other training bots, causing them to shut down. Keeping his dodging movements, he moved toward the gap within the surrounding bots. Ducking into a somersault as he rolled over a now-defunct training bot, he grabbed the immobile bot and threw it at the closest training bot, leaping into the air as he did, careful to keep the unwillingly airborne bot between him and his target. The claws on his hands and feet snapped forward.

Flying backwards from the impact, the training bot almost had time to fire at Blindside before he landed, one clawed punch peeled its chest armor away, the second tearing deep into the training bot's internals, its optics winking out.

Running and leaping from side to side, he liquidly transformed into his wolfen form, running now far more swiftly at the next training bot. The training bots' firing began to stutter for a moment, attempting to reacquire a lock due to his sudden burst of speed. As he reached his first target, he knocked the bot backwards as his jaws closed around its neck, its head being quickly torn from its body. He struck a moment later diving behind the next training bot, rolling both of them until the training bot was on top, the bot flying helplessly without its firing arms, hitting the closest training bot with a sickening impact.

As he was in midair and finishing his transformation back into robot mode, Blindside landed on both bots, punching the still active bot in the head, his claws tearing deeply into its circuitry, causing the bot to shudder. He swept the next bot's legs out from under it with a low kick, followed immediately with a slash across the bot's shoulder, tearing its weapon mount away. Thrusting his arm into the now-visible cavity in the bot's torso, he ran directly at the next bot in line, the still-shuddering training bot in front of him absorbing the salvo of shots as he closed the distance.

Reaching his target, he flung the twitching bot at another one still active, and pounced on his target, peeling its torso armor away with one slash from his leg, followed immediately by a punch that tore into its inner circuitry.

The still-twitching bot slammed into another bot, causing them both to tumble over in a heap. Blindside used this distraction to transform into his wolf form again, using the terrain and wreckage from the other bots to prevent them from getting a clear line of fire. The last four still-functioning bots were taken offline one by one swiftly, slashes from the claws on all four limbs along with his powerful jaws making short work of them. He transformed in mid-run back into robot mode, landing on the last bot fists-first, to knock it offline for good.

With that, he stood up straight, and looked around as his perception of time re-initialized into normal speed again. Walking back to the entrance, he smiled at Shellshock. "I can see why you come here. That was fun."

[General Havoc]

The workshop was empty and cold as Ratchet stepped inside and looked around for the sight of the one who had invited him here. He did not see him immediately, which was perhaps unusual, as 25-foot robots did not tend to hide easily. It wasn't until his light amplifiers had cut in that he was able to spot the purported owner of the workshop, and when he did, he knew something was wrong.

Wheeljack was sitting in a corner of his workshop, surrounded by computers of every sort, all of which were displaying complicated machine code, but he wasn't watching any of it. Instead, the Autobot scientist was motionless, the lights overhead dimmed, only occasionally glancing up at the screens before him.

"Wheeljack?"

Wheeljack sat up with a start and turned around, before beckoning Ratchet over. He gave no indication of what the issue was about, and Ratchet walked over with a sigh.

"I'm very busy Wheeljack, so this had better be important. You're not gonna believe who's back from..."

One look at Wheeljack's face was enough to quiet him.

"What is it?"

Wheeljack slid one of the computer monitors around to face Ratchet, who bent over to peer at it. It was Autobot machine code, incomprehensible to most, and of such complexity that Ratchet needed a few moments to properly orient himself within it. Once he did however, the code was quite clear. Fractal algorithms programmed directly into the machine code. It could only belong to one Autobot.

"Is this Hornet's code?"

"Yes," said Wheeljack almost vacantly, and he pressed a button or two to make the code scroll for Ratchet.

Ratchet narrowed his optics. "What are those?" he asked, gesturing to a series of unfamiliar terms that had been highlighted in pink on the screen.

"Those are the fractal rewrites," said Wheeljack. "That's where his code has been re-written by his own algorithms."

Ratchet nodded as he scrolled through the code. "So what the problem? Isn't that how it's supposed to work?"

"Yes," said Wheeljack, "except for this." He pressed a button and the code scrolled back to the top, where a title announced that this particular bit of code was the master control scheme for Hornet's optical processors.

Ratchet blinked once or twice "What?"

"The re-write, it's in his optical processing code."

"... so?"

"So?!" Wheeljack's voice was a near-panic. "Don't you see?!"

"See what?" asked Ratchet, wondering if Wheeljack hadn't been testing some new device on himself again. "What's the matter?"

"I installed a fractal recoding system into Hornet, to let him grow from his experiences on a fundamental level. I made it so that his algorithms would actually re-write themselves based in the sense data and processed throughput they were getting from his lasercore. He re-writes himself as he experiences things, learns things, not just his memory banks, his entire personality node."

"So what's that rewrite doing in his optical processors?"

"I have no idea!" exclaimed Wheeljack. "I installed the fractal rewrites around his personality node, his higher function analyzers, a few other key areas, but I was separated the things I wanted re-written from the things I wanted kept intact. His motor functions, his basic processing systems, his BIOS, his flight and targetting systems. I couldn't just have him re-writing those, so I installed a break between the code I wanted him to grow and the code I wanted him to keep."

"And you put his optical processors in the re-write section?!" asked Ratchet like he was staring at a madman. "Are you insane? It'll turn his optical processors into spaghetti code!"

"I didn't!" shouted Wheeljack, "I didn't put them anywhere near his re-writing functions! His optical processors are supposed to be uneditable. I even locked the firmware and had them re-install weekly!"

Ratchet blinked again. "But then... why is the re-write in there?"

Wheeljack's voice trembled. "I have no idea..."

"What do you mean you have no idea? It's MACHINE CODE. Trace the damned circuits!"

"I HAVE traced the Primus-damned circuits, six times already! There's NO logical connection."

"But then how did he manage to insert extra code into the optical processors?"

Wheeljack could only shake his head unknowingly, and Ratchet suddenly realized what this meant.

"Wheeljack," he said, "how many of Hornet's systems have re-writes?"

Wheeljack's voice was thin as he confirmed Ratchet's fears. "All of them."

"What do you mean all of them?"

"I mean ALL of them, Ratchet. I just finished a full scan. He's got re-written machine code bits in every single code sector. His operating system, his I/O interpreters, his auditory and optical processors, his core logic bus... everything."

"But... but that... that's not POSSIBLE! You said..."

"I know what I said, but the code is there to see. He's re-writing himself, completely."

"With... what?"

"With spaghetti code," insisted Wheeljack, "with complete gibberish. Random bytes of background data."

"Wait a minute, Wheeljack that can't be right. If he did that, his code wouldn't even compile, let alone work. He'd have shut down already."

Wheeljack shook his head. "I coded Hornet by hand. I included... backup provisions in case something went wrong with the firewalls, in case I accidentally forgot something and fried his central algorithms. It's programmed to be able to take a certain amount of wear."

"So?"

"So this wasn't what I had planned for!" said Wheeljack. "I thought maybe, MAYBE he might find a way to accidentally wipe a file or reinitialize a database or something, or even scramble the code for one of his functions. I never thought it would happen to EVERYTHING at the same time."

"Well... hold on though... I mean he's functioning now, isn't he?"

Wheeljack nodded curtly. "For a while..."

"So then aren't we being a little premature. Maybe this is all just a mistake. If he's got no visible symptoms...."

"He's got symptoms."

Ratchet paused. "What do you mean?"

Wheeljack sighed softly and spoke with a deflated tone. "Hornet's always been... a little strange, you know? I programmed him to be very imaginative, and his algorithms make him work a little weird, so nobody notices much, but I do. Once in a while, he'll... claim to have seen something that can't exist, or have met someone who's dead?"

"I know that, so?"

"So recently... I started to wonder what the cause was for all that. There were... there were these strange things. His secondary sensors would come online when I had shut them off, all by themselves. He'd see something with an auditory component that didn't make any sense. I thought it was just him being imaginative, or maybe some junk data in his buffers, but then it started happening more often..."

"Wheeljack, why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Tell what?" scoffed the Autobot scientist. "It was just minor disturbances... until..."

"Until?"

"At the last battle... he was knocked into a stasis lock. His systems rebooted and... there was a massive data containment loss."

"How massive?"

"Fatal."

Ratchet blinked again. "What?"

"You heard me."

"But... what happened?"

"Best I can tell... nothing, which doesn't make any sense. But it tripped a big red flag which I saw after I finished repairing him, so I went looking... and that's when I found this stuff."

"So he got lucky then? The data corruption fixed itself?"

"Or subsided. I don't know."

"So then... what does this all mean?"

Wheeljack shook his head and spoke in a low tone that carried an almost funereal voice. "How familiar are you with human engineering?"

"They call it 'anatomy', and I know the basics."

"Have you heard of this disorder they get called 'cancer'?"

"Can't say I have."

"It's horrible stuff. Some of their cells go berserk somehow and start dividing and acting on their own accord, eroding the performance of their primary systems. If it goes on long enough, it spreads throughout their chassis through their hydraulic system, until it gets to a vital point and disables it."

Ratchet nodded slowly. "So what's that have to do with..."

"... the spaghetti code is in every single system in Hornet's body. I can't find out how it got there, or why it's happening, but it is, and it's re-writing him progressively. Right now it's just the occasional bit of machine code, nothing really worrying, but as time goes on it'll keep happening, and his system efficiency will start to decay, until finally one of his major systems is going to refuse to compile... and then..."

Wheeljack didn't finish his sentence, and Ratchet shook his head. "Well there has to be something you can do? Why not try a periodic automated re-install from his backups?"

"Because his BACKUPS have the code in them too."

"How?! The backups aren't even connected to his processor!"

"You tell ME how! I just scanned them, and they're there!"

"So then... use your own templates! Go in and re-code them the way you want it by hand if you have to. It'll be time consuming but it's better than..."

"The stuff is rooted INSIDE his lasercore and spark, I can't mess with that by hand, I'd robosmash him at best! You know what happens to Cybertronians who undergo that kind of proceedure!"

"What about a deep code shutdown? Put him on ice until you can figure out how to fix it?"

"Hornet doesn't HAVE a deep code shutdown option. His fractals are working, even when he's in stasis lock."

"So then what are your options?"

Wheeljack sighed. "The way I see it... there's only one thing I can do."

"What's that?"

"Reformat, and re-install from scratch."

Ratchet widened his optics and slid back. "You can't actually be considering that."

"It's the only thing I can think of. Purge all his code, wipe his lasercore, and start all over again with a new one."

"But what guarantee do you have that the problem won't repeat itself?"

"I'd leave him inactive until I could find the root of the issue."

"And that could take..."

"Breems, I know."

"So you're... you're actually gonna reformat Hornet?"

Wheeljack fell silent and said nothing for a time. When he did speak, his voice was almost inaudible.

"I can't."

"What?"

"I can't."

"What do you mean you..."

"I can't reformat him, Primus-damnit!" snapped Wheeljack. "I've been trying to work myself up to it for hours. I can't do it!"

"You said this was the only way to..."

"I KNOW what I said blast it, but I can't do it. It would kill him!"

"So will this, and you said you could just re-install from scratch...."

"But I couldn't re-use the lasercore or the personality node! Those would have to be regenerated from scratch by the Matrix, and that means even if I could salvage his memory banks, which I can't, whatever that blasted Matrix put back in his shell would not be him! It would be someone else."

Ratchet hesitated. "Wheeljack... if there's nothing else you can do..."

"I can leave him as is."

"But you said the code would keep getting re-written until..."

"It will. It is. But reformatting will kill him, and the code hasn't killed him yet."

"But it WILL kill him, Wheeljack, you said yourself that Hornet is not as important as the experiment you're running with him. If you allow his data to get that badly corrupted, you'll lose it all. Everything you were trying to do will be wiped out. You think with the war the way it's going, that Optimus is gonna let you start over from scratch? You'll never get the chance to retrieve this data again, Wheeljack, not while this war's going on, and you know it."

"Yes..." said Wheeljack, lowering his head, "... I know."

"So?"

"You.. you don't understand Ratchet. It's... it's not at all like I imagined it would be... having Hornet as my charge. I was... thinking only of how fascinating my test data would be. But... but it turned out very much... different.

Ratchet sighed and patted Wheeljack on the shoulder. "I'm sorry Wheeljack. I knew you were hoping for..."

"No!" exclaimed Wheeljack, shrugging off Ratchet's hand. "No it's not.... it's not BAD, it's indescribable! I mean I was always interested in his well-being insofar as the test was concerned but... when he was missing that one time, after Gridlock blasted several others and we couldn't find him.... I was... I was in a panic, Ratchet, I actually was. I was ready to go rip the damned Ark apart myself and find him, and it wasn't because of the code or the experiment at all... you can't even imagine...."

Ratchet blinked at Wheeljack once or twice more, as Wheeljack shook his head.

"So... yes, I know that the data is important, even vital. I know it's my duty to our species to retrieve and safeguard it, and that if I leave this that we might lose our only chance but.... Primus forgive me, Ratchet, I just don't care. I CAN'T bring myself to care, not in the light of what it would mean doing to Hornet. I can't reformat him. I won't reformat him."

"So you're just going to sit back and watch him disintegrate?"

Wheeljack steadied himself. "If I can't find a fix for this... then yes."

"For how long?"

"For as long as I can."

"And if his systems all fall apart, and he winds up robosmashed regardless?"

"... I don't know."

Ratchet sighed. "Well Wheeljack, I think you need to talk to Optimus about this."

"In the middle of a planning session? Optimus has bigger worries."

"You know Optimus would want to know, Wheeljack. You know how he asks after Hornet."

"He's just being polite, Ratchet. Hornet's a minor note to him, at best."

"I wouldn't be so certain, Wheeljack. Tell him. Trust me."

Wheeljack nodded slowly, and Ratchet sighed and turned to go.

"I'm sorry, Wheeljack."

"Thank you," responded the Autobot engineer.

"Are you... sure there's nothing else we can do?"

Wheeljack shook his head. "Just one thing. One thing I may do..."

"And what's that?"

Wheeljack's voice was soft when he finally replied.

"Pray."

[Charon]

Shellshock watched as Blindside dispatched the targets with an ease that many could not muster. Gone was the brash, stupid, young 'bot, and that worried him. He openned a private channel with Teletran-1 "Teletran, locate unit Firetrack and send me his position."

As Blindside finished up Shellshock's red optics shone with an examining air as he looked around at the destruction. Then his audio sensors picked up Blindside's comment about how fun that had been, at the very least that hadn't changed. "I can see what you meant when you said you were still in training." Shellshock grinned. "Some of those training bots almost hit you."

[LadyTevar]

Crimson, trailed by Hornet, had gone back to the Repair Bay, where the FemBot was looking for Stryke. After all, she wanted to hear what Hornet would have to say about the little pink decal she'd stuck on Stryke's rear fender.

Her own little decal was better hidden, looking like a simple decorative piece of Human Tribal-style black line-art on her shoulder, and her alt-mode's saddlebag. Of course, turn it the right way and you had 'Stryke' written out in Human cursive.

[SirNitram]

Overload was inspecting the last touches on his trailer, clambering over it in the Repair Bay. A glance over to the two similarly-sized Autobots revealed a smirk. "I was young like that once." The hauler said absently as he noticed the mark on Crimson's shoulder. "...Mind you, she shot me more than she has Stryke. I guess some relationships are less volatile."

[rhoenix]

"I can see what you meant when you said you were still in training." Shellshock grinned. "Some of those training bots almost hit you."

Blindside nodded, looking thoughtful. "It's more than that. I wasn't able to fully lose myself in the moment, to properly act without conscious thought. Learning to do so will take me time, as I still have to hone my skills based upon what I am capable of."

At this, he smiled. "I don't mind, though, as it will be time well spent."

[Agent Fisher]

Stryke walked into the repair bay. He glanced around and spotted Crimson. And she had Hornet with her. The warbot groaned, he wasn't looking forward to having to answer the little bot's question about why Crimson was on his fender.

The greenbot warbot moved over to her, putting an arm around her. "You have no idea how much the other bots have been poking fun at me. Though I think a few of them were jealous." He said.

[LadyTevar]

The greenbot warbot moved over to her, putting an arm around her. "You have no idea how much the other bots have been poking fun at me. Though I think a few of them were jealous." He said.

"I know Overload was jealous, I overheard him muttering about someone putting her name on his paintjob." Crimson teased, slipping her arm around Stryke. "Of course, you've been too busy griping to notice I got a new decal as well, haven't you."

[Agent Fisher]

Stryke tilted his head, looking her over and spotting the decal. It took him a moment before he spotted it. The warbot grinned. "Nice." He said.

[LadyTevar]

She grinned, looking down at the decal on her left shoulder, then back up to Stryke. "Since I didn't get shot up as bad, I get the subtle one," she teased.

But then, she had to show it to Hornet... and explain what it was, since it was Stryke's name stylized and mirrored to make an almost butterfly-like design. About the only good thing that Stryke got out of that conversation was seeing Crimson bend over while she was talking to Hornet.

[SirNitram]

"Be glad, Stryke." Overload said as he made some final adjustments. "She didn't shoot at you much. Where's the paint? I owe 'Ride that much." The last was mumbled to himself, as he patted the oversized(For him) cargo module.

[General Havoc]

With the hilarity finalized, Hotrnet was, truthfully, about to ask Stryke about ihis new decal (was he supposed to get decals of other transformers on him too? He wasn't sure how much he liked that idea, though the ones the human pilots had given him had been pretty cool to have. ) when Crimson volunteered that she had applied her own decal. Hornet, once again, had not noticed (being both distracted by what had happened to Overload and being unable to see things mounted above his own optic-level without craning his neck back all the time). When she showed him what it was, he smiled and ran a hand over it.

"Wow!" he said, chirpy as ever. "That's really cool! Where'd you get that from? Did the humans put it on you?"

He blinked at it once or twice. "How come it says "Stryke?" Is it because he put a picture of you on his fender? And how come he did that in in pink? Dyou think I could maybe get a decall of my own? Jetfire puts one on every time he gets a kill!"

Full points were awarded for those who could keep up with Hornet'ts conversation.

[LadyTevar]

"It says 'Stryke' because I want it to," Crimson replied, which was the easiest answer that didn't require further explanation. "And no, you can't have decals. Right now, you're still being punished for scratching your paint, remember?"

Yes, that reminder was going to make Hornet pout. It was fun to watch him pout. Just as much fun as slipping her arm around Stryke and giving him a mild pat over the decal. "And I put the decal on Stryke's fender, in pink, because I threatened to do it if he got torn up in the fight." There was a lesson here if Hornet was listening as Crimson teasingly gazed up at Stryke. "He got torn up, he got a decal. Just wait and see what I do the next time he gets his armor ripped off...."

[SirNitram]

"Jetfire does that to mark his victories." Overload added, finally finding paint and starting to work. Battle honours, mostly, from Cybertronian units to ones far from Earth and Cybertron both. "I suppose you could ask to have them added, when you're allowed paint again. Mark your excellent work protecting the humans."

[General Havoc]

The remark was calculated to make Hornet pout. It succeeded. Hornet frowned and crossed his wings and muttered something under his speaker about how it "wasn't fair." He might have kept it up, save that Overload commented that he might be allowed a decal to commemorate his having successfully (more or less) defended the humans. Instantly Hornet forgot that he was supposed to be pouting (as he was wont to) and blinked eagerly up at Overload (even Overload's new reduced form was easily half-again Hornet's height and twice his mass).

"Really?" he asked almost breathlessly (an assumed effect of course, since Hornet did not actually possess lungs). It was all he could do to stop himself from running back off to Wheeljack to ask him if he could get a decal of the sort Overload had described. Much as he admired (some might say worshipped) Jetfire in all things as the foremost Autobot flier, and as the role model that he aspired to be like pretty much constantly, he had to admit that somehow the idea of marking a decal to commemorate having prevented his friends from being killed appealed to him a lot more than one commemorating having killed somebody.

Not that he could explain why... but it just felt better to him.

[rhoenix]

Blindside was silent for a few moments, thinking to himself after Shellshock spoke. There was something in his face; suspicion, or concern, Blindside wasn't sure which. Given what had happened to him, Blindside wasn't especially surprised - he actually expected the suspicion from other Autobots to be more overt, and to happen more often.

Making the same bow he had before, Blindside stood. "Thank you, Shellshock. I'm going to the other training area nearby to practice for a while."

With that, he walked with hands clasped behind him to the smaller training room a short way down the hall, and saw to his delight that it was a melee training room, with a selection of several weapons, all apparently modified to be non-lethal for training purposes. He smiled warmly as he saw the different types of swords available, and grabbed the long, slightly curving metal one that glowed bluish slightly with energon, and a shorter one of the same type.

Walking to the middle of the training room, he activated his radio. "Blindside to Teletran-1. Please list written or stored works that dealt with the strategies or philosophies of warfare, and have existed for at least two hundred years."

A short chirp sounded, followed by an immediate response. "Two best matches found, five good matches found."

Nodding to himself, he replied to the old and powerful computer. "Teletran-1, please give me details of the two best matches, and make them available for download."

A short pause and a beep later, he got his reply. "The two best matches are both Terran works - The Art of War, and A Book of Five Rings. Uploading to Unit Blindside's memory storage now."

At this, Blindside's optics grew brighter with surprise at the news that the two best matches were both Terran works, but began to peruse the works as he began the sword-based Windshear forms of Metallikado. "Thank you, Teletran-1."

Blindside began to move through the forms by rote, absorbing the knowledge within the works as he did. He couldn't help but smile as he read through the Terran written works. "Amazing," he thought. His respect and admiration for the native people to this small blue-green world went up a few notches as he read both books.

[Dark Silver]

TELETRAN intercepted the message, and did a cursory scan - attempting to match up Energy, Spark and ID signatures in it's exhaustive database for the Autobot Firetrack.

It took thirty seconds for the scan to occur, before TELETRAN replied over the private channel - "Unit: Firetrack is not located within scanning range."

[Charon]

Shellshock pursed his lips as he leaned up against a wall, his hand reaching up and stroking his chin as he contemplated the issue. "Teletran, can you locate unit Blindside on the Ark?"

Shellshock went through his datatracks as he waited. Rachet recognized the gears and bolts that made up Firetrack, and he remembered small details about his past with the autobots that would be at the very least extremely difficult for a spy to get down, let alone do well enough to fool Rachet or himself. But there was definately something very different about him. His manner, the way he walked, even his spark, had changed.

Shellshock walked out of the training area and headed for the repair bay where he figured Overload would be.

[Dark Silver]

TELETRAN's reply was instantaneous, "Unit: Blindside located" and TELETRAN fed the him the co-ordinates.

[frigidmagi]

I'm alone in a dark room, leaning against the hull of the ark. I'm not sure what this room does. I found it a somewhere around 17.47 Megacycles after my arrival on this planet. It's empty and always dark, I believe it to be a storage bay of some kind(55.67%). It doesn't really matter, I just come here to be alone. I have been here for 1.78 Megacycles composing myself and trying to get my Cerebro-circuits in order.

I'm a squad leader, again. I had hoped to never be one again. My squad is dead.

My squad was the Headhunters, established after Prime and the Ark went missing made up of Autobot warmachines. We fought on Cybertron for Vorn after Vorn, slaughtered Decepticons. We joined the AEF and served as it's Shockforce. It's metal fist.

They were all killed in an ambush that I wasn't there for. I never even found all of their bodies, just bits and pieces. I did my duty. I made sure there was no one who could boast about killing them. The idea of bearing that burden again, it is like going down into the Pit but I am going to do it. Prime does no less and I am required to win this.

How in the name of Primus am I suppose to keep Hornet alive? How am I going to take what will no doubt be a ragged group and make sure they can survive? How will I make them an effective force?

I am going to need Deathstrike, he's the only one who even seems to have the concept of training down.

"TELETRAN-One, plase relay a message to Deathstrike. This is Breakout, I am most likely going to be in WheelJack's Lab. If you are free, please join me, thank you." I say. I get out and start heading over to Wheeljack's.

[Cynical Cat]

Deathstrike was not pleased at the interruption. The Autobots were content to ignore him for most of the time but the moment he tried to upgrade his systems then he was needed.

That wasn't fair. He pushed his irritation aside. Breakout was a warrior worthy of respect and one of the few Autobots who inclined to seriously consider his words. The frustration was affecting him.

"Deathstrike to Breakout. I am on my way." He turned to Perceptor. "This will have to wait." He headed off towards Wheeljack's lab.

[frigidmagi]

"Thank you, Deathstrike." I say as I turned the corner into Wheeljack's lab... And found it locked. Inferno take me. I would have to wait a bit.