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Top of Ayer's Rock

They did it. They won. But Sandstorm and the others barely had a moment to let that reality settle in--plus the fact that they had saved Hot Rod in the process--before one of those greasy 'Cons did the very thing that probably all of them expected at least one of them was gonna try...take a hostage. The choice of hostage though? For just a klik, it made Sandstorm grin, but the reality was that prowl was an Autobot and the rest of these glitches were mass-murdering slagheads under the command of a tyrant. The tyrant may be dead and gone, but he had no shortage of lackeys ready to pick up the slack.

Springer pretty much echoed Sandstorm's own sentiments, but Jazz was the cooler veteran head in the situation. As he watched Springer's tension ease somewhat, Sandstorm's did also, one of his digits lightly pulling itself away from the trigger of his experimental freeze ray.

When Silverbolt checked in to make sure they were ready to bounce, Sandstorm just nodded. He was not happy. But he would do his duty.
___

Outside the shuttle Longevity

"Well, it would appear victory belongs to the Cybertronian race once more. How fortunate for all of us," Ratbat said as he swooped out from underneath the wing of the Longevity and approached the only other mech in his immediate vicinity: the old, old Autobot. Kup just turned and gave him a dismissive glance and a huff from his cy-gar. Oaf.

"Yeh. That so? My comms might be scrambled. I ain't heard nothin'."

"Oh yes. Our Supreme Commander, Razorclaw, just sent the word not too long ago. Though it would seem, well, it would seem that the situation is not quite yet fully resolved."

Now Kup trianed his gaze more fully on the Casseticon.

"And what's that supposed ta mean?"

Ratbat simply grinned. "Ohhhhh...now...that would be telling," he chuckled, before launching himself off the ground and into the air once more.

>>"Ratbat to Soundwave, I remain in prime functioning condition. I am returning to you as we speak."<<

Kup opened a comm of his own, only in this instance it was to his old war buddy Ironhide.

>>"'Hide? 'Hide? Come in Ironhide. What's the situation up there, pal? I got one o' Soundwaves little cronies tellin' me the thing's over, but not over. He was bein' sketchy. You alright out there?"<<

FUBAR

Battletrap moved both pieces and transformed them into their respective vehicle modes. He then moved them into place as he transformed back into robot mode. It took a while for his systems to fully reboot. His memory was a bit jumbled but when he looked around he saw a location he was unfamiliar with but a certain Seeker he knew too well and an unconscious Commander Shockwave. He raised his weapons towards Starscream. As he tried to keep his optics on the Seeker, he walked towards Shockwave.

"Keep there, Starscream. You won't hurt Lord Shockwave more. He will be new again. You betrayer. He will slag you when he wakes."

Battletrap takes a closer look to where he is at and realizes he isn't on the Thanatos but on Earth. It takes his system a couple of nanoclicks to fully remember what happen and why he was there. He still didn't quite recognize the other Cons but did notice a couple of Bots around. It took a bit but he slowly lowered his weapon.

"I sorry, Starscream. I forgot who we fight. Is Fallen defeated? Why Lord Shockwave hurt? I will protect Shockwave until fixed."

Medical Outpost FUBAR

Starscream said nothing to Battletrap, but simply smiled and nodded. He turned back to Mal Practice.

"So that it?" he asked, scoffing. "Where did you learn to blackmail?"

Starscream then leaned back where he sat. A huge grin spread on his face.

"Fine. Give me the wings." he said matter-of-factly. "Anything else, we'll discuss when we get to the Thanatos."

As he awaited Mal's reaction, he tried to suppress his smile. This medic had no idea who he was messing with.

Fubar


It appeared Feedback was right. Crueljaw had every intention of hitting him.
Having no idea that Crueljaw had no idea he wasn't screaming at the bodyguard, rather his diagnostic system; which no one but him had privy to at the moment; he was utterly confused at why the hulking mass of metal was growling angrily at him and grabbing hold of him.

The very brief moments in time that it took for Crueljaw to draw his punches seemed like an absolute eternity to the terrified flyer. He was no coward, but neither was he particularly brave, though he did know when he was outclassed, and Crueljaw outclassed him in hand to hand combat tenfold. But Feedback had no escape to begin with, and the body guard's hand on his shoulder made that situation even more bleak. He wasn't sure how much more he could take after taking punishment from Crueljaw, the Fallen, Crueljaw again.... and quite frankly, Crueljaw could deal out far more punishment than Feedback could reasonably take on a good day. And the bodyguard was mad.... very mad, venting flames was not a metaphor at the moment.

He heard Starscream's voice, someone threatening the Air Commander as well (Battletrap ), felt the heat from Crueljaw's rage... now shaking with fear as well as fried wires.

"No!!!" He cried out as loud as he could as Crueljaw's fist came at him. "Please! Don-"

Normally, he might have been able to weather the blows; but after all the punishment he endured that day, he couldn't.

But at least Starscream was still functioning. Even though Feedback had slipped offline yet again.

Australia - Top of Ayers Rock

The most primal side of Razorclaw had hoped that Ultra Magnus would actually have the ball bearings to do something stupid like try to hit Motormaster with his huge hammer or back hand the lion-former or anything of the sort. It would give the Predacon lord all the reasoning he would need to blast the Longevity and everyone on board into atoms. Not to mention the brutish Stunticon Commander would quickly ventilate Prowl’s cranial unit. Of course, neither Razorclaw nor Motormaster nor any Decepticon for that matter needed a real reason to kill Autobots. It was simply fun to fulfill such threats and then lay the blame squarely on the 'Bots, themselves.

Naturally, the City Commander did not have the ball bearings to do anything but tuck tailpipe and run. Typical Autobots. Most of them didn’t have the stomach to sacrifice anything for their cause. What’s one shuttle of wounded mechs or one military strategist? They could be replaced. They all lacked the conviction to hit their enemy when they were down. The ‘Cons clearly were is poor shape, much more so than the ‘Bots. Still, the Thanatos provided Razorclaw’s forces with all the firepower they needed to survive an Autobot attack. But, alas, it was an attack that would never come.

Then there was the portable spark extractor. It was the weapon Wheeljack had brought down that ultimately allowed the Fallen to be defeated and their precious cavalier to be saved, as well. However, it was a weapon Razorclaw could not allow Ultra Magnus to keep. After a brief bumbling from Swindle to the various Stunticons, the extractor exploded, destroying the weapon before it could be used again. Of course, there was always the chance that more could be built if they weren’t already, but at least this one was gone forever.

Razorclaw ignored Divebomb’s responding transmission as he turned his gaze towards Ultra Magnus. The Autobot Commander’s words forced a slight chuckle from the lion-former’s vocalizer. “Of course, I want to continue this war, Magnus. Did you really think this ‘peace’ would last beyond the Fallen’s defeat? Hmmmm? There will never be a lasting peace between Autobots and Decepticons. NEVER!”

The Predacon lord then noticed the Wrecker known as Springer trying to make a move to save Prowl, a move that was quickly stopped by Jazz. “You may want to keep your men under control, Magnus. Otherwise, Motormaster’s itchy trigger finger might just...slip. You know how easily that could happen. Just a word of caution for you.”

With his warning given, Razorclaw turned his attention over to the Stunticon Commander. “Motormaster, with the spark extractor destroyed it is time we took our leave, my friend. Gather your Stunticons and proceed to Astrotrain. Keep Prowl as a hostage for now if you like just in case any of these Auto-slags decide to disobey their leader.”

The lion-former then returned his glare to Ultra Magnus. “Once we are safely in the air, Prowl will be returned to you. This is non-negotiable. I’m sure you understand.” Razorclaw’s optics locked with those of the City Commander before lowering to the containment pod that lay on the ground nearby. “And what of the Fallen’s spark there? How will you dispose of it? Will it be as your strategist suggested and launched into the sun? Hmmm? I certainly hope you don’t plan on studying it for any nefarious reasons. That would be both dangerous and stupid on your part.”

Just then Soundwave approached and stood silently by the Decepticon leader’s side. Razorclaw glanced over and gave the Communications Expert an approving nod before looking back at his Autobot counterpart. “And don’t lie to me, either, Magnus. Soundwave here will know if you are lying.”

Razorclaw then received a status update from Psychout, along with a question regarding the number of vehicon and seeker drones still functional on the battlefield.

>>”Yes, Psychout, there should be some remaining, more seekers than vehicons I would think. Regardless, salvage what vehicon drones you can as many might only be in stasis and can thus be repaired. Vehicon spark fragments are very hard to come by, after all.”<<

With his message sent, Razorclaw returned his attention to Ultra Magnus and awaited his response regarding the Fallen’s disembodied spark.

Australia: Top of Ayers Rock - Trench

Wheeljack landed in the trench hard, having just tossed the spark extractor over to Swindle. The mechanical engineer didn’t want to be anywhere near that cursed thing when it blew as he didn’t really know just how big the explosion was going to be. The power cell was strong enough to fuel a device capable of sucking out a mech’s spark. That could only make for a rather big boom once the overload was complete. Thus, ‘Jack remained faceplate down in the dirt with his actuators laced over top of his cranial unit.

After a few astroseconds went by and nothing had happened yet, Wheeljack peeked up to see Dead End a short distance away in the very same trench as him. At the same time, the inventor could hear Swindle and Wildrider up above scrambling to get rid of the extractor. Then it happened. The weapon either fell or was thrown down into the trench, landing right between the white mech and the maroon-colored Stunticon. Wheeljack got up onto his hands and knee joints with the intent of lunging towards the extractor in order to knock it back out of the trench. Unfortunately, Dead End got to it first.

“Frag!” Wheeljack exclaimed as the spark extractor was sent airborne right in his direction. Wasting no time, the mad scientist transformed into his New Stratos alt mode and gunned it directly at Dead End. The flying extractor passed by overhead before finally detonating well behind the white race car. ‘Jack felt some of the heat from the blast but it was nothing to be concerned about.

However, there was another concern now as the engineer was going way too fast to stop in time before he crashed right into the crimson and yellow Stunticon. The trench was too narrow to try and go around and the walls were too steep. Besides, it would serve the stupid little slagger right since he did just try to cripple Wheeljack with his own invention. But, crashing into the 'Con with no warning could be construed as a deliberate attack which would only serve to exasperate the current situation. Therefore, the mad scientist had no choice.

“Get out of the way, Dead End, before I run you over!” Wheeljack reluctantly shouted as he slammed on his breaks and skidded through the sandy bottom of the trench. He did slow down some but it was not nearly enough as his momentum continued to carry him forward. Either the doomsayer would get out of the way or remain where he was and attempt suicide by engineer.

Medical Outpost FUBAR

Razorclaw wrote:>>”Yes, Psychout, there should be some remaining, more seekers than vehicons I would think. Regardless, salvage what vehicon drones you can as many might only be in stasis and can thus be repaired. Vehicon spark fragments are very hard to come by, after all."<<

>>As you command, sir. Permission to redeploy remaining active drones to aid in scorching the earth of Cybertronian debris, as per Infiltration Protocols?<<

Psychout quickly completed his request to Razorclaw, as yet another headache arose. This time in the form of the Duocon, Battletrap.

Battletrap wrote:I sorry, Starscream. I forgot who we fight. Is Fallen defeated? Why Lord Shockwave hurt? I will protect Shockwave until fixed.

"Starscream is not in command here, he is a patient. This is commander Shockwaves outpost, and as his first officer present command here is mine. The Fallen has indeed been defeated, Shockwave is in his final recovery cycle and Razorclaw...

"LORD RAZORCLAW TO YOU, TINY TALKER!!" Came an interrupting screech from above. It would appear Divebomb was still listening whilst waiting for his fellow Predacons to awaken.

"...Lord Razorclaw has instructed all Decepticons not aiding in the advancement towards Astrotrain to begin destruction of all debris of Cybertro..."

Then he remembered who he was talking to.

"...see that wreckage over there?" The cassette wearily indicated towards the strewn vehicons and assorted fodder from the battle. "He wants you to smash it up, and bring me as many sparks as you can find."

And then, as if on cue, Feedbacks final cries split the air as he was silenced. Again.

Crueljaw wrote:He should stay quiet until we're back on the ship then the real fun will begin

"You're not wrong 'Jaws. This many Decepticons inside one single transport? It's a good thing we've got you with us. I might want to have a chat with Swindle about the quality of his merchandise there though. Fancy helping, your talents always come in useful for getting refunds?"

FUBAR

"Destroy scrap? Constructicons good at fixing scrap. Spare parts for others?"

Battletrap looked over at Shockwave glad he is okay and in repair cycles.

"I help load Commander Shockwave. He still need protection. Don't want him hurt again."




Ayer's Rock-South

Groove was doing his clean up duties and watching out for the usual troubles when things finally settled down. He knew something was up on the top of Ayer's Rock when he got the message from Hot Spot. It sounded like they finally won and Hot Spot wanted all of the wounded took to the Longevity. The only difference was the intention of bouncing out the worst case first and than the others later. One of the mechs he did notice was the Aerialbot Skydive. He didn't look the best by any means. This plot of mud had turned into a scrap yard of Cybertronians thanks to the mess the Fallen had created. He did do his fair share of damage and life loss. However he was taken out, Groove was very grateful to the point of awarding the mech or mechs a medal. The only concern is if Hot Rod survived the encounter.

Australia – Top of Ayer's Rock

Skullcruncher, while still weakened by the Fallen's assault, was recovering quickly. The unique physiology similar to that of the Terrorcon Hun-Gurrr ensured regenerative healing factor beyond ken of the typical Cybertronian. This in addition to his extremely thick armor made the cybervore a difficult enemy to deal with. But the ability had its limits. He needed sustenance to feed the power and his belly was running empty. He couldn't just produce matter out of nothing. He needed to feed.

The beast within was awakening. His mind slipping. The battlefield reeked of death. Burned polymer sinew, circuit boards and wire insulation, melted and cut metal, leaking cydraulics and splashed energon. Unknown to Skullcruncher himself, he was grinding his teeth together both in anticipation and hunger.

The sword. Skullcruncher could suddenly feel its hilt in his hand. He was whole again. The sword wasn't just a weapon. Its presence had been embedded into his transformation matrix. Long time ago, longer than he cared to remember, his love for the weapon had made him to ask it being added as a designated part of his alternative form layout. It was as if something was forcefully removed from his body were the sword not within close proximity.

“Feast Skullcruncher and I will on the circuity, the spark, the very soul of that impetuous Autobot... Find you I will Autobot. Make no mistake," Weirdwolf growled out under his breath, likely loud enough for Skullcruncher to hear, “And when find you I do....death. Shall. Not. Be. Swift."

Hungry. Weirdwolf had made an enemy. And he could think only about eating. The reasons beyond Weirdwolf's irritation escaped him. So hungry. The sword had made him whole. The primordial beast within his mind was growing louder. Insatiable hunger. It fought for its own survival. Feed or be fed upon. The pieces of the whole that separated him from mere animal began to crumble. What did society or culture mean to a hungry beast determined to survive?

The primordial subroutine of Skullcruncher's mind took over – bypassing the safety neural buffers and downloaded transformation schematics of his current designated vehicle mode. Thus initiating a spontaneous transformation into his true form - crocodilian like Cybertronian beast with a maw full of sharp teeth and a ferocious appetite for other cybernetic beings. Skullcruncher had to feed. The primal need was too great for him to resist. Fortunately enough for the others, the battlefield was littered with bodies and a hungry beast with easy targets to scavenge upon was not in the mind of attacking the closest target that might fight back. But feed the crocodilian would and woe to those that tried to stand in his way.

Australia – Top of Ayer's Rock

Damned fools. Motormaster's dissatisfaction over the performance of his Stunticons and Swindle as well for that matter was clearly visible on the scowl on his face. Give them a single task to do and a failure is likely to occur. Add one greedy Combaticon and be certain that a screw up is the only possible result. At least the idiots did not let the spark extractor remain in Autobot hands. Not that it helped much. It was all too likely that Wheeljack could build another.

“Of course, I want to continue this war, Magnus. Did you really think this ‘peace’ would last beyond the Fallen’s defeat? Hmmmm? There will never be a lasting peace between Autobots and Decepticons. NEVER!"

Ah, good old Razorclaw. The Predacon leader would rather die than see the day where the Autobots stood victorious. There was just too much bad blood between them. And winning? From Motormaster's experience it meant everything to Razorclaw. The Predacons had always been about the survival of the fittest, far more so than most Decepticons. Razorclaw would never stop even if the Decepticon Empire crumbled down around him. It wasn't in his programming.

“You may want to keep your men under control, Magnus. Otherwise, Motormaster’s itchy trigger finger might just...slip. You know how easily that could happen. Just a word of caution for you."

In response to, Motormaster flashed Ultra Magnus a winsome grin and winked – his gun pressed hard against the side of Prowl's head. Not that he even needed the gun. He could just add pressure and crush the life out of the pathetic Autobot strategist. That great was the power difference between the two. So tempting and yet among the most foolish things he could do right now.

"Motormaster, with the spark extractor destroyed it is time we took our leave, my friend. Gather your Stunticons and proceed to Astrotrain. Keep Prowl as a hostage for now if you like just in case any of these Auto-slags decide to disobey their leader."

“My pleasure boss.” Motormaster chuckled, tightened his grip some and began backing down towards Astrotrain, never letting the Autobots out of his sight. The anger, shock and dissatisfaction on their faces only feeding Motormaster's feeling of satisfaction over being in control. He hold the keys and the Autobots could do a slag about it without paying the highest price. It was... empowering.

“You heard the commander boys! Get ready to depart!”

“Once we are safely in the air, Prowl will be returned to you. This is non-negotiable. I’m sure you understand."

Oh, sure he'd return Prowl. He had promised that much. Some honor even among thieves or some such. In what condition and form though? The evil grin on Motormaster's face was as good indication as any.

FUBAR

Starscream watched Crueljaw and Psychout in silence. He wasn't particularly attached to Feedback, but the 'Con did save his life quite possibly. He shouldn't be treated that way. Starscream made a mental note to pay back Crueljaw on behalf of Feedback when the time was appropriate. They just jumped to the top of a long list of scrapheaps Starscream planned on administering a sh*t-kicking to on his way to the top. Yes, once he was leader, rabble like this will be totally wiped out from the Decepticon ranks. Starscream would see to that.

Top of Ayer's Rock

Arcee patted Trailbreaker on the back in thanks as the Decepticon took his leave of them, Springer came to pick up Hot Rod. She followed the Wrecker, staying closer while keeping a wary optic on the Decepticons. The others could worry about Prowl. She had her hands full here.

Shortly, a light engulfed herself as well as the group of Wreckers and Aerialbots, whisking them away from the battlefield and back to the Ark-22.

((OOC: Feel free to just jump in on the 22 if you are in either above group.))

Transmission from the Guardian Bounce Chamber

>>>Good evening Bot’s and Grills, you’re listening to Radio Beachcomber; the sounds of the King. The Guardian transportation chamber is now open for business, so send in those signals, and let’s bounce away those GI Blues and get you back stateside!<<<

(OOC: If you're tuned into the Guardian comms frequency the chamber is open, jump on up.)

Near Ayers Rock

Ironhide was sitting on a rock, just looking around. He was surveying the damage and the damaged bots who took part in the battle against The Fallen. Out of nowhere, Air Raid landed next to him in robot mode.

"What's new, Ironhide?" Air Raid asked with a smile.

"New? Ain't nothin' new 'round here, youngster." Ironhide answered in a low voice. "I'm just keepin' an optic on these 'Cons, makin' sure they don't pull a fast one on us."

"I don't think that will happen. They took some serious damage as well, and..."

But suddenly, the transporter light enveloped Air Raid, and he started dematerializing.

"What the..." he said, lifting his hands in front of his face.

Ironhide, knowing exactly what was happening, just waved to the Aerialbot.

"I guess I'll be seein' ya back on Cybertron." he said with a frown. "Whenever I get back there. Take care, junior."

Air Raid disappeared, and the light vanished with him. Ironhide stayed at his spot, still watching over those still around.

Australia - Uluru - FUBAR Outpost

"One coming in!" The voice from the skies called out as the low flying Cybertronian star fighter eased its flight course to gently hover around Landgrab's stationary mode. Cloudbreaker's jet mode blissfully positioned itself several meters above the ground as he gently brought the injured Darkfire down to the ground while the femme was still harnessed in the thief's hastily slapped together rickamorang of a safety harness.

"One Darkfire, as requested." Cloudbreaker stated with a light bow as he looked towards the cassetticon running things over here. "She's a little dented and beat up, but it should be noted that she was like that when I came to pick her up. I think we ought to make sure the warranty isn't expired, ship her back to the warehouse. Heh heh."



Every servo ached. Every sensor connected to a piston or actuator cried out in a series of pain and agony. Every fabric of the disfigured Insecticon just wanted it to be over, to be put out of his misery once and for all. Yet, there he lied in the red dust of the Australian Desert, somehow lucky enough to have remotely survived from one of the Fallen's attacks. The wasp-former's violet optical sensors attempted to flicker back to full functionality only to find the universe was once again not paying him any favors.

That was until he was stricken with a sharp pain in the chassis.

An Autobot, unbeknownst to Waspinator, by the name of Nova Strike had approached the probe form and injected the poor Decepticon foot soldier with some form of pain killers. In a flash, the once flickering optical sensors burst out in a new sense of life as the flow of energy brought back its usual purple glow to them. Waspinator's pain receptors shortly went from constantly alarming him of his previous injuries to quietly dying down to a faint whirl as the pain killers the ranger injected back to shut down said pain receptors.

"WAAAHHHHHHH AH AH AH!!" The green and yellow Insecticon reject screeched out as he nearly jumped up to his height. "What did Blue-Bot give Wazzzzpinator?? Feelzzz like Wazzzzpinator is walking on edge of univerzzze!!" The wasp-former then pointed to the Decepticon sigil fixated square on the bug-head that made up his chest plating. "Blue-bot izzz not blind izzz he? Blue-bot can see Wazzzpinator is on the Decepticonzzz right? Why you being nizzze to Wazzzpinator?"

((OOC: more to come))

Summit of Ayers Rock

Bonecrusher grumbled a vivid curse under his mouth guard as he pulled himself from the shallow pit that had been gouged out by the unceremonious impact of his near unconscious body. Small wisps of acrid smoke coiled from deep trophies of battle that latticed along his forward chest plate like a spider web or a fissure in the earth... or both. He wiped away lubricant crusted dirt scabs from a particularly vicious gouge in his left shoulder and threw the muck to the ground. A surge of intense pain followed with a bitter wince as he placed his left foot at the edge of the pit and pulled himself forward.

He cast his gaze across the ruined landscape with a grim satisfaction. Craters and burnt corpses of the dead and dying littered the summit of the sandstone rock... it was a true masterpiece. Smoldering wreckage of vehicons dotted the spectacle along with carbon scars and shrapnel. Ordinance, detonated or not, were intermixed with the scene to truly enhance the pallet. Bonecrusher would have slowly pulled away a tear if he were capable of such an emotional display. "The truest essence of existence. Death and devastation that awaits." He muttered to himself as his visor recorded the sight for posterity.

After the seconds ticked away the constructicon straightened his posture and immediately assigned his internal systems to begin making the myriads of power reroutes and bypasses to restore himself to combat efficiency. Unlike the others, Bonecrusher was literally built for being the thick of the fray. To take the punishment and to return it exponentially, that was why he had been assembled. The fact he served with the engineering squad was only a simple clerical oversight... that now worked in his favor.

As his system worked to evaluate the damage and to establish power to damaged regions, Bonecrusher began to take notes on the status of his brethren. The other five constructicons had been dumped after their vicious forced separation. His internal system signaled gold to identify critical injuries to his weapons systems and damage to his targeting computers. They were a result of?... He collapsed to his left knee as a surge of intense pain tore into his processor. Anguish he had never known before.

Sparks of crimson tore at the edges of his sanity, clawing at the tattered remains of his mind to reclaim what was left. Memories, no not true memories... but where they? Fragments of images of events and actions. His body launching hyper sonic speeds and crashing into... But it wasn't his body, not really. But it was him, he was certain of it. As the surge of pain tore into his cerebral processors, Bonecrusher drove his fists into the ground sending tremors through the subsurface.

Devastator, it was the name at the very edge of his mind. A single mindedness that demanded nothing more than an outlet for its rage. The constant struggle for control. It flooded back to him in a torrent until emergency buffers were triggered and segregated the massive amounts of raw data, images, emotions, thoughts, experiences... they were all thrown into isolated partitions of his memory banks and sealed away until he was ready to deal with them. He brought his soiled hands to the top of his dome and slowly dragged black ash down its sides as the torrential storm of anguish slowly subsided to a milder squall of damnation.

Finally the pain became tolerable enough for him to pull himself to his feet once more and allowed his vision to clear. It was then he looked to his right to see the transformed Astrotrain in his shuttle mode. The constructicon did not care as to what was happening on the other side of the large Decepticon transport. His limited diagnostic told him what his visual survey already announced. He was in no shape presently to engage in battle, much to his personal dismay.

He turned towards his ride when he noticed, not far from him two splayed out figures splotched green, brown and red with traces of black and streaks of violet liquids oozing from fissures in their own armors. Without thinking he darted over to the side of Scrapper and placed his hands around his throat. Carefully as to not truly strangle the commanding engineer of the construction team, Bonecrusher pulled the damaged Decepticon up to a seating position and then proceeded to give him a good snapping shake. "THIS!!!, THIS IS YOUR FAULT!!!"

He did not expect a response nor did the destroyer care whether or not Scrapper was conscious. Bonecrusher needed him alive. If only to slap some sense into him, that monster. The abomination that was... He could not come up with any adjectives to describe it. Bonecrusher was thrilled with the prospect of being so deep within the throws of absolute tumult and chaos. For that was the universes grand designer and constructor, nothing new could exist without destroying the old and worn down. But something else tore at his mind that terrified him.

Bonecrusher released his grip on Scrapper and allowed the team leader to fall to the ground with a heavy thud. He then proceeded to grab his left leg and the right leg of the near by Hook. With both of them in tow, he slowly crossed the pock marked ground toward Astrotrain... making sure that he hit every single bump, crevasse, dent, pit, crater and formation of obsidian he could conceivably find in the short drawn out trek.

Australia - Medical Outpost FUBAR

Starscreams demeanour of disdain for the team was utterly lost on the emotional-void of Mal Practice, who shrugged at the Aerial Commanders eventual comprehension that there was only one way out of his predicament; him. He nodded towards Landgrab as an indication for Starscream to sit down and grabbing the dead weight of Nightweaver by the head, dragged the expired seeker along the ground behind in one hand, whilst he calibrated his hyper-precision laser scalpel apparatus with another. This was an operation he had performed many times, almost literally in his sleep, and with Landgrab being the slow-moving vehicle that he was he knew he had plenty of time to make sure this fix was flawless; he couldn’t care less care what his patients thought about his bedside manner or ethical standards, but he would never accept anything less than perfection in his surgery technique, no matter how repulsive the victim patient.

He glanced towards Psychout, who was still keeping his distance, and fired up his torch. It’s playtime!! he cackled silently to himself and began to carve the wings off the cadaver with expert precision. Psychout, having left Feedback to the gentle ministrations of Crueljaw, seemed totally un-phased by this mutilation of the dead and just nodded his permission for his counterpart to begin the surgery. Mal dropped the detached wings onto the slab, tangled web of wires, tubing, linkages and couplings flailing like the many heads of a dying hydra as the last of the energon in Nightweaver’s system stimulated the parts independently of their controlling processors. He looked towards Starscream and waited, torch at the ready...

The arrival of Cloudbreaker broke the tension and his returning of Darkfire finally meant the team was complete, even if two of them were unconscious. With the doctor currently performing surgery, and Landgrab monitoring Shockwaves condition, Psychout wandered over to look at his newly appointed ‘second in command’. Since her promotion she had refused to use the specialist weapon he gave her, and then allowed herself to be shot out of the sky. Not a good start, even Feedback did a better job than that – although it did bring Starscream to his doorstep – but he had given her the job for a reason and decided she would have one last chance, but with everyone else busy it’d have to be given to her on the way back to the labs in Astrotrain.
“You took your time Cloud, stop off for a drink on the way?” he joked and lifted the pirates energon flash out of his pouch taking a healthy swig. The mood definitely needed lightening and that hit the spot for him at least. “You’ve now got maybe... 8 minutes to loot anything here you need before we set off, and the Seeker drones blunder through and glass the place to eradicate any Cybertronian presence. Feel free to go nuts, we move out as soon as Starscream is on board so if you miss it, its gone.” He handed back the flask with a hidden grin. “Good job, by the way. Nice to see at least one of you flyers can stay in the air.”

“Landgrab, it’s all on you now. Once the doctor has begun, get commander Shockwave to Astrotrain along the smoothest route to allow Mal to work at optimum efficiency, Crueljaw and I will accompany you behind with Feedback and Darkfire, the rest of this lot can make their own way back.” he indicated the recovering Predacons and Blast-Off.

“Battletrap?” He turned to address the simpleton duocon, diligently but pointlessly guarding an unconscious giant. “Think you can bear to be away from the great commander long enough to clear a path so Landgrab and the doctor aren’t interrupted?”


As an afterhought, he loaded the remaining parts of Nightweaver onto the remaining space at Shockwaves feet. Cloud had been right, if this guy could really do what he said, then that was an ability he definitely wanted for his specialist team.
He jumped back down and gave the signal to Crueljaw to transform into his alternate mode, and whilst he waited to get in for the journey back to the shuttle, he rolled a Cerebro Shell in his fingertips and a hidden grin began to grow beneath his faceplate for hte first time in what felt like months as he reflected on the battle.
The next few days were certainly going to be ‘interesting’.

FUBAR

Starscream just watched Mal Practice slice and dice the corpse. Inside, he was stirred up, never having been comfortable around dead bodies or mistreatment of them. This is why Starscream rarely ever visited Shockwave's lab. Now, however, the dead body would be beneficial to him, even if temporarily. Mal was looking, waiting. Starscream could tell the mentally unbalanced medic was loving this. Starscream got up and walked to where Mal was waiting.

"You better do this right." Starscream said, locking his optics on Mal Practice. "Or it'll be the last thing you ever do."

Starscream sat down and awaited the beginning of the procedure.

Australia - Medical Outpost FUBAR

Darkness and silence had surrounded him for so long that he could barely remember what it was like to function normally. The direct hit from the Fallen’s staff had fried his circuits for sure, but it was the crash from such a high altitude that had finished him off. The damage was severe, but still the space warrior clung to consciousness, fading in and out before finally succumbing to stasis as the nothingness consumed him. He had failed in his mission, and he had done so early on during the battle, leaving the rest to fight the fiery demigod without him.

Now, after what felt like an eternity, Blast-Off was finally waking up. His systems were slowly rebooting one by one until his optics flickered on at last. The spacefaring Combaticon let out a deep groan as he began to stretch each of his limbs. He felt some mild pain but mostly he felt a lot of stiffness in his various joints. Blast-Off had lain prone for too long. What he wouldn’t give for an oil bath right now. That would surely feel good and loosen up his servos and connections. Of course, that would have to wait. He was in a desert still and there was no telling just yet when that would change. Was the battle still going on? Had the Fallen been beaten? Could he be beaten? What exactly had the space warrior missed while he was out? Those were all questions that needed to be answered.

Pushing himself slowly up into a seated position on the circuit slab, Blast-Off gazed around with fuzzy optics. His vision soon cleared, however, and it became apparent that he was at some kind of Decepticon medical outpost with a couple of the Predacons and Shockwave along with other various still functioning mechs he did not immediately recognize. Although, he did notice Mal Practice close by, who was likely the one that had repaired him. Blast-Off would have to remember to thank him later when things weren't so hectic. Now, the space warrior needed to know the status of the battle, and he decided to do so by tapping directly into the general Decepticon frequency.

Unsurprisingly, there was much chatter going on, but Blast-Off was able to isolate and ascertain the most important part, which was the revelation of the Fallen’s defeat, his spark ripped out of Hot Rod’s body. That was good news indeed. As a result, the temporary truce between the factions was now over. Onslaught’s communique then rang across the space warrior’s comm line, ordering the Combaticons to meet in Astrotrain for a debriefing. Blast-Off was not looking forward to explaining why he had been so easily taken out by a single shot, but Onslaught had always been an understanding leader just so long as you tried your best. He wasn’t Motormaster, after all.

Thankfully, Blast-Off thought as he pushed himself off of the circuit slab and stood to his full height. He stretched his stiff joints once again, reaching his arms and actuators towards the sky, which had begun to grow dark. Although, he was unsure if it was dusk that was upon them or perhaps the clouds had simply grown black from all of the soot and debris that had been dispelled into the air. It mattered little as the space warrior opened a private comm line back to the Combaticon leader:

>>”This is Blast-Off. I read you Commander Onslaught. I’ve been repaired, and I'm on my way to Astrotrain right now. Should be there in about a breem or less.”<<

With his message sent, Blast-Off began walking off towards the base of Ayers Rock where the triplechanger was already waiting in his shuttle mode. The space warrior remembered that not too long ago he had a similar alt mode, but now he possessed an Earth form the fleshbags here called a Boeing X-37B spaceplane. At least it was similar in design even though he was incapable of carrying anyone around inside himself like Astrotrain. Besides, even if Blast-Off had that ability, it would be ill-advised for him to do so in his current condition as he had not yet regained enough strength. All the space warrior wanted right now was to get back on board the Thanatos, or perhaps the Obliteration, and have a good long soak in that oil bath.

A mech can dream.

Australia - Autobot Shuttle Longevity - Combat Casualty Care Unit

Having Tracer by his side, holding his left hand, made Smokescreen feel safe and secure. Even though the Fallen had been defeated there were still the Decepticons to worry about, and Smokey was hardly in a position to protect himself or the troubled femme. Would the truce hold together for a little while longer or would it die a quick death? Knowing the ‘cons, the latter would likely happen as there was no love lost between the two sides regardless of having worked together to bring down a common foe. The Decepticons had no honor, at least most of them didn’t. Hopefully, both factions would avoid more fighting as battling the fiery demigod had taken its toll on everyone.

Smokescreen smiled at Tracer and squeezed her hand with what little strength he could muster. His attention was then quickly drawn away from her concerned visage when First Aid returned to his side with the painkillers and nanite-enriched energon he had promised. The diversion expert managed a low chuckle at the doctor’s comment. “Yeah *cough* I could use them. Don’t hold back, Doc. heh.”

The rallybot barely felt the injection as the pain in what was left of his right arm kept his nerve receptors occupied. It didn’t take long for the meds to spread throughout Smokescreen’s various systems, numbing the discomfort he felt in the process. Before he knew it the energon had been set up while the pain in his stump subsided a bit, becoming only a dull ache. First Aid then went about sealing off the open lines that the Stunticon had previously missed on the battlefield. The diversion expert flinched suddenly, squeezing Tracer’s hand even tighter, as the last line was closed by the Protectobot medic. It was a quick burst of pain that even the meds couldn’t mask entirely. However, once the doctor was done and had begun putting his tools away, the pain subsided again into a slight throb.

Smokescreen let out a heavy sigh as First Aid informed him that he would be fitted with a new arm once they were back on board the Guardian. The rallybot nodded as he finally began to relax more with both the pain meds and nanite-rich energon making their way deeper into his body. “Gotcha. Good job, Doc. I feel better *cough* already.”

Warning klaxons then began to blare all around them, filling Smokescreen’s audios with a deafening noise. The red and blue mech immediately thought that the Decepticons were attacking the shuttle and instinctively tried to sit up. However, the rallybot was met with intense dizziness from the strong medications coursing through his circuits. He quickly laid his head back down on the medical slab to avoid passing out. “What’s going on? What’s happening?” Smokescreen muttered under his breath, glancing over at Tracer with a worried expression on his faceplate.

Australia--Medical Outpost

"Landgrab, it’s all on you now. Once the doctor has begun, get commander Shockwave to Astrotrain along the smoothest route to allow Mal to work at optimum efficiency, Crueljaw and I will accompany you behind with Feedback and Darkfire, the rest of this lot can make their own way back."

Orders. Landgrab liked orders. Only these were sort of conditional. When the doc was ready. How would he know when the doc was ready? Would he say? Should he assume? No, he should ask. He should totally ask. The results might not be good otherwise.

"You ready, doc?" Landgrab asked, hesitation and uncertainty lacing his tone like well-refined engex. "I can go if you're ready, but I'm totally fine waiting, too. Whatever you need. Yeah."
___

Mixmaster bounded aboard Astrotrain, close on the heels of Bonecrusher. He was on such a high he could hardly describe it. Wayyyyyyy better than Nightmare Fuel. Like, not even a competition.

Some of his teammates weren't exactly looking like they were in pristine condition, but when they woke up? Mannnnnn, hahahahah, he was sure they were gonna be as stoked as he was. It worked! Devastator. Devastator!!!! And now all the other 'Cons knew what the Constructicons could do.

Get ready to do some boot lickin', suckers. Heheeheeeeee, the Constructicon Chemical Engineer giggled merrily to himself. Oh this was gonna be great.

He sat near the discarded forms of Scrapper and Hook and practically started rocking back and forth in excitement.

Australia

Thrust ran across the sand of Australia to Astrotrain before he left. He wasn't used to running so much as he usually prefers to take to the skies but he couldn't due to his broken wing. He hoped Mal or some other medical 'con could fix it. Thrust found Astrotrain and went inside. He found Motormaster, Bonecrusher, Scrapper and Hook aboard.

"Did I miss anything?"

---

Bumblebee thought that the next sensible thing to do was to help with the wounded. So Bumblebee transformed and headed off for Longevity. When he reached Longevity he could hear the warning klaxons!

"What went wrong?" he thought.

Bumblebee transformed and stepped inside.

Australia--Approaching Astrotrain

>>”This is Blast-Off. I read you Commander Onslaught. I’ve been repaired, and I'm on my way to Astrotrain right now. Should be there in about a breem or less."<<

The verbal confirmation from Blast-off was a welcome one, primarily because it let the Combaticon Commander know that his aerial assault specialist was still functional. He had not known the extent of the damage that Blast-off had suffered during the battle, but there would be time for all of that during their debriefing on the way back to the Thanatos. he wanted his team primed and ready to go at a moments notice at all times.

>>"I read you Blast-Off. Good to hear you functional, soldier. We'll talk soon,"<< Onslaught replied as he approached the bay doors of the Decepticon transport. He turned to face the other Decepticons that were approaching.

"Get the lead out. Move! We have no more business here. Astrotrain...we depart within the breem. Whoever's left behind will need to find their own way back to the ship or learn to appreciate the terrestrial comforts of this organic hellhole."

Australia - Top of Ayers Rock

The Predacon commander only gave a nod to the Decepticon Communications officer before turning back to Ultra Magnus and forewarning the Autobot Commander of Soundwave's special talent. The Decepticon of blue and white only shifted his visored glare back at Ultra Magnus to help drive his point home. Flashes of light began to sweep most of the Autobots on the top of the rock and back to their respected spacecraft. Soundwave payed little mind to who was recalling from the summit, all that mattered was that no one drew a shot while Motormaster held onto his trump card.

"HEY! Wait up Frenz'!" Rumble called out to his cassetticon twin as he chased after the dino-riding Decepticon. The Communications officer watched as his blue and violet minion scatter off across the summit to carry out his previous orders. Ratbat, of all Decepticons, finally made contact with the Decepticon who housed he and his fellow cassetticons. The purple and gold bat-former had been quiet throughout most of this campaign, which given his lack of weaponry and disregard for directly engaging in combat didn't surprise Soundwave in the least. The bat-former soon found his way to the summit and transformed back to his cassette-mode before landing back within Soundwave's storage chest compartment.

>>"Buzzsaw, do you still have our cargo?"<< Soundwave inquired towards the orange and black condor.

>>"Indeed I do."<< the avian cassetticon replied following a short chuckle, >>"He's almost dried out though, I'm not seeing energon leak out of 'im anymore. Real shame though, the cowardly always have a finer taste to them."<<

>>"Acknowledged. Keep it intact and begin to make your way towards Astrotrain."<< Soundwave instructed before closing his comm line with Buzzsaw. His thousand yard star with Ultra Magnus finally broke when he peered over the edge of the mountainside to see the Decepticon army beginning to converge on the space-faring triplechanger.

"Gyuhhh..." Blitzwing groaned as his humanoid form rose from the smoldering crater his falling tank stunt left. "Did...Did I get him?" The commando looked out across the mountaintop to find his current situation was far different than when he has impacted with the earth. Prior to his fall, the Fallen was frozen beneath him and the Autobot-Decepticon truce was still holding strong as both factions were charging the flaming deity. Now, Prowl was in Motormaster's grip with the Autobots only capable of waiting back and allowing the thuggish Stunticon carry out his demands. "Oh for flak's sake!" The one time I go out in this fight and I miss all the good parts!!" Grumbling back up to his feet, Blitzwing stumbled from his crater before toppling over the lip of rock and falling back up on the summit.

Soundwave watched as Blitzwing converted to his jet mode and rocketed off towards his fellow triplechanger below. He sent a non verbal acknowledgement to each of his cassetticons that they ought to be doing the same, now that Onslaught was proclaiming they would finally be departing with the breem. The Decepticon communications officer turned back to face his newly appointed supreme commander, his vocalizer pressing to inform the lion-former of the Decepticon's status with their departure when the faintest of shivers ran down the back of his spinal strut.

He froze, time beginning to feel as if it was slowly down all around him. We're it not for his signature mouthplate covering his face, the mechs on the summit could possibly see Soundwave with his mouth resting agap as he struggled to formulate a response to this sensation.

The feeling continued to creep through his chassis. It was cold, almost unnerving... And yet, it felt all too familiar, like a long awaited welcome.

"Boss are you feeling okay?" Squawktalk inquired from within Soundwave's chest cavity. "I mean, I know you came out of this battle a little unscathed, a scratch here or there maybe, but unscathed none the less. Did the Fallen's mental power fry something? I mean we were worried for you when you were in there. Hard for me and Beastbox to show that given we were sharing the same-"

"I'm fine." Soundwave injected, cutting his chatterbox of a translator off as he regained his composure. "My systems are normal, nothing appears to be damaged or out of place." Soundwave then stared off across the horizon directly behind the Autobots that still remained on the summit.

And yet...

-

"THIS!!! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!!!"

Scrapper's optical sensors shot back to life shortly following the barrage his audio receptors were taking. Immediately the visage of his fellow Constructicon, Bonecrusher, greeted his return to the land of the functioning as the demolitions expert violently shook him in place by his collar.

"Bu-Bonecrusher! Yes-Yes it is! It all is!" The front-loader tried to explain inbetween his throttling, "But it worked! Our experiment was a triumphant success!"

Before the Constructicon leader could further explain, Bonecrusher had already tossed him back to the ground and grabbed hold of one of Scrapper's dysfunctional legs. The Fallen's dark energy had taken its toll of the team, leaving Scrapper having to be dragged around without the full use of his legs while both Hook and Long Haul were both rendered fully unconscious. Scrapper had yet to see where Scavenger or Mixmaster ended up following their separation, let alone knowing if they were remotely functional. Still, it was at least somewhat hopeful to see Bonecrusher was able to get himself back up fine, even if he had a shorter temper than before.

We did it, Hook... Devastator, he's no longer just an idea, some drawing on the concept board... He's real... We broke the enigma... My friend, we did it...

Frenzy halted his run at the sound of Rumble's voice. "Hurry up! You too Overkill!" He yelled back. "Scrap it looks like the Bots are behaving." He said watching the Autobots as they collected up their fallen and heading for their designated ships. "Well. That doesn't really doesn't have to stop us from having a bit of fun with them." He hopped down off the summit with a controlled fall to the bottom, engaging his flight circuits to full just before hitting the ground so to hover just above the height of the Bots. He crossed his arms across his chest and planted a firm look on his faceplate. "Yeah, yeah, move along." He grumbled, getting the scene set up for Overkill to come in and do his thing should he want to, and giving Rumble a chance to catch up and chime in as well.

He kept the satisfaction off his faceplace, but inwardly, the crazed cassette was as happy as can be. The Bot's were their enemies again, just as it should be.

Then came Soundwave's silent command to make their way to Astrotrain. He frowned internally but still let nothing show outwardly in front of the Bots. >>> "Gotcha, Boss. I'll get ta Astro and make sure them fraggin' Bots behave on the way."<<<
He waited for Rumble and to see what Overkill was going to do as he watched Buzzsaw soar overHead towards Astrotrain. From his vantage point he couldn't see what any of the other cassettes were up to, but the cassettes were possibly one of the best organized units the Decepticons had.