Ep 1.5 - The Unwelcome Party (Smokescreen, MECH, now open!)

[Optimus Prime]

Moving at a quick pace, but not too aggressively, Optimus was trying to smudge out the small embers and flames without smashing little bits of shrapnel further into Thundercloud in the process. This was a bit easier said than done, as the smaller grey chunks seemed to almost blend into the soot coated surface of the jet's armor. Luckily, even if he did manage to push a smaller piece in, the damage such a thing would cause was minimal compared to the fire if it was permitted to continue burning.

Optimus was just starting to consider exactly how he was going to move Thunder, when the mech replied to his question without actually answering anything. The roundabout way that it was avoided, caused the Prime to shoot down a mild frown in dismay, but at the same time he had to feel at least some comfort that Thunder wasn't so obliterated internally that he couldn't say anything. The joke, while not helpful in any way shape or form, conveyed he wasn't going to just give into the pain.

"While I am relieved to know you are well enough to make such commentary, I believe it would be prudent for you to focus on what is important here."

Optimus sure as the pit wasn't going to condone the jet's words with a snarky reply of his own, or even really give much of a reaction. He spoke in a deadpan tone to try to disarm the statement entirely, and not even acknowledge it as much of a thing. He didn't want it to become a reoccurring thing honestly, that kind of humor not up on his 'ok' list, though... not much humor really was these days.

It was at that moment the comm came through, and he tilted his helm to the side a bit, casting his gaze off into the foliage as if peering at someone that wasn't there instead of staring down at Thunder still. Optimus had to say he wasn't too thrilled with the declaration that a Ground Bridge had been in play, as it simply threw more questions than answers into the air. So much can be gleamed from such a concept, and none of it particularly made sense, nor boded well for them. However, it was all something to go over later.

::Understood::

The lack of directives or orders was a statement that both Wheeljack and Carbine could likely do as they saw fit for the moment. If they wished to call for a ground bridge, than they may do so. Or if they wanted to scout around a moment, they would also be able to do such a thing, but the clock was running. Once Optimus got Thunder back to the base, he would most likely recall everyone else to cut their losses for the day.

Looking back at Thunder, Optimus was confident that the jet could get up if he set his mind to it, and wouldn't need to be drug back to the base as complete dead weight. The Prime in turn moved his right foot forward to plant down on the opposite side of Thunder's legs in order to distribute his weight evenly between the two limbs. Once his footing was secure he eased forward to try to hook his hands underneath Thunder's arms.

Back in the day, when Optimus first got the frame he now uses, his newfound strength was a bit alarming. He was constantly worried about exerting too much of the unusual power he had never had before, and was terrified he would unintentionally hurt others or decimate something of value. The world around him almost seemed like glass for some time until he got accustomed to controlling just how much he exerted himself. In contrast, it was times like these he was actually grateful for this strength, as internal mechanisms whirred and kicked into gear to start to heave Thunder up.

If Thunder could get his legs under him to support some of his own weight at least, Optimus would try to loop the nearest limb up and over his shoulder to be able to assist and guide back towards the Ground Bridge. If Thunder could not do this though, he would need to adjust his plans a bit and try to come up with something different that would not cause more injury to the mech turned pincushion.

[Deleted]

Optimus was clearly not in any mood to appreciate Thundercloud’s questionable sense of humor, which really should have been the only reason the mech in question needed to stop making crude jokes at the Prime’s expense. It should have been, but it wasn’t, as evident by the way Optimus’ dismissive remark was met with a wheezing chuckle and a listless attempt to pat the mech on the shoulder. Thundercloud missed his mark by about four feet, as his hand barely made it off the ground before it decided it really did not want to put forth the effort necessary to complete the gesture.

Instead, it simply flopped back down at his side, being as useless as its owner was, as Optimus made quick work of the flames still simmering against his plating. Thundercloud watched, a bit bleary eyed, as the Prime worked, his optics attempting to hold their own against the oh-so-tempting urge to go offline.

He would be damned if he let himself pass out in front of the Prime of all people, which meant he needed to keep his mind busy, his body moving. The latter was far easier said than done, unfortunately, and to keep himself from falling prey to the call of sleep Thundercloud did what was probably the very last thing Optimus wanted him to do.

He kept talking.

“...Y’know, this is prolly the least kinky pat-down I’ve ever had in my life. And I’ve had a lot of ‘em.”

He craned his head slightly, as if to get a better view of his battered, burning frame, which he seemed to regard as some sort of novel curiosity rather than an immediate cause for concern.

“I mean, at least 65. Some of ‘em were even warranted.”

He paused, grimacing slightly as a particularly stubborn flame was smudged out, and in the process, a small sliver of shrapnel was forced deeper into his plating. Other than the scrunch of his optics, however, he issued no complaint nor gave any other indication that he was particularly uncomfortable. To the average observer, it would appear that he had an unusually high pain tolerance. To the more skeptical, it would seem as if Thundercloud was simply very good at putting up fronts and saving face.

Both groups would be equally correct, though Thundercloud would only ever admit to the former.

Fortunately for Thundercloud, the only person around who could call him out on his odd lack of response was Optimus, and he was kind of busy with the whole “making him not be on fire anymore” thing. So, yeah. There was no need to put his bullshit skills to the test just yet. With any luck, he wouldn’t need to put them to work at all - well, luck, and a heaping dose of distractions to keep the Prime from making the observation in the first place.

Once the fire was out, Optimus set himself to the task of actually hauling his fallen soldier off his aft and onto his feet. Unfortunately for him, Thundercloud was...well, pretty heavy. Also he was himself, which added a whole slew of other inconveniences to what should have been a relatively easy task.

Case in point: the moment Optimus positioned one of his legs on the other side of him, for stability, Thundercloud saw an opportunity to make an inappropriate innuendo and he seized it without even a moment of hesitation.

“Woah there, cowboy--” He began, forcing his tired arms to hold out his hands in front of himself in a mock-placating gesture. “Easy on the reins. I’ve been rode hard ‘n put away wet today, I ain’t in the mood right now.”

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly before he offered the Prime a crooked, tired smile, as if to show that he intended for his joke to be one they could both take amusement in, rather than one made just to mock its sole audience. Somehow he doubted Optimus would find his words humorous, but the way he figured, the situation could use a little lightening up, and even if his jokes weren’t well received they at least served as a sign that he was well enough to make them.

Reaching out, Thundercloud took hold of Optimus’ shoulder, keeping a firm grip for the sake of stability as the other mech helped lift him off the ground - or rather, Optimus did most of the work and Thundercloud just tried to keep from falling back on his aft again as the sudden shift in elevation took his sense of equilibrium on a merry go round.

His joints creaked as he was hauled to his feet, his grip on Optimus’ shoulder and forearm tightening as Thundercloud struggled to both reorient himself and cope with how much moving was the exact opposite of comfortable at the moment.

He sucked a sharp breath through his teeth, his mouth pulled back into a tight lipped grimace as he shut his optics and swore something undoubtedly vulgar under his breath. Though upright, he was unsteady, his grip on Optimus tightening incrementally as if his stability on his feet was entirely dependent upon how hard he held onto the other mech.

“...Yeah, nah, I’m really not in the mood. Gettin’ tag-teamed by two different explosions is enough for me, mech, I don’t need t’get rammed by a fraggin’ truck too.”

[Carbine]

Bolo was turning around in circles, really not too pleased with the idea of losing a scent through a Ground Bridge. Back on Cybertron, such a thing really wasn't much of a concern. Individuals simply DIDN'T have access to such technology in such a way; it out of reach of common criminal's hands. It is because of this the little dog had no frame of reference and tolerance to something just abruptly stopping with no apparent rhyme or reason.

It wasn't as if the scent grew faint, or was mixed in with others that were too similar, no, it had been highlighter bright. The smell made a vibrant smear of a path in his processor, only to abruptly stop with that weird scent of particles that the vortex brought out. Bolo as such started to bark, the confusion manifesting itself as frustration, his maw parting in an aggressive motion, snarling and snapping at the air as if it would rip the bridge back open again and let him chase.

Carbine was far less bothered. He understood what happened, and was trying to calm the canine down through their connection, without silencing his tantrum with a direct order to stifle his emotions. The orders would have a whipcrack instant reaction, but letting Bolo have his fit would get it out of his system sooner to permit coping mechanisms. It is because of this, the ex-cop turned to face Wheeljack.

::He's right, no fly-?f?l-?f-air, no tricks, on?l?y t?hing? is a bridge::

Carbine reiterated Wheeljack's words, perhaps to try to take claim for the report just as much as the Wrecker was. Whether it was a conscious decision or not was the real question, as Carbine wasn't pitching the other mech a smug eye squint or radiating amusement from his field. It just as likely could have been a subconscious desire to not be cast aside.

When the other mech spoke, Carbine let out a sigh, and walked over to Bolo. The dog had ceased biting into the air, but was still growling, ignorant to his Master's approach. With a hard snatch, the ex-cop latched his hand around Bolo's harness, and lifted the canine up to turn him around and plunk him back down in the dirt, facing where they had come. Bolo's ears snapped upright, and the lights across his frame flickered and popped between red and blue in his confusion, peering up at Master to try to understand.

"Hunt"

The word was simple and paired with Carbine letting go. Bolo looked back down at the presented point, and... turned around.. to follow where the scent had been going. This landed with the dog lifted off the ground again, and plopped back in the direction the scent came from.

Bolo stood post leg straight for the longest moment, trying to calculate before he realized Master wanted him to hunt in reverse, find out where the mech had been previously, not where they were going. This set the dog back onto a new task, and he was soon scampering along back the way he came, though at a tethered speed since Carbine was holding onto his harness so he could directly observe.

"Bolo will follow the path they too?k? b?a?ck t?o the source... we just need to keep an e?y?e ?o?ut? on the way!"

Carbine spoke smugly, getting half dragged past Wheeljack back towards the scene of where the chaos went down. As he was pulled along, he decided to speak to Thunder over the general comms they could all hear, chuckling.

::So Flapjack, you get your? aft? in trouble?::

[Deleted]

It hadn't been Wheeljack's intention to exclude Carbine and Bolo's involvement and work when he'd reported in. It hadn't even occurred to him, what he'd done. Post mission, when they were being debriefed, those details would come out then from him.

Wheeljack lifted an optic ridge, arms folded as he watched the spectacle of Bolo practically drag his carrier past the Wrecker. Amusement rose in the Wrecker, which he made no effort to quell. With the way this mission had gone slag side up, he'd take whatever levity he could get.

He fell into step behind Carbine, keeping a wary optic out on the forest around them. Their pace was much slower than it had been on the way here but this time there was no real hurry urging them onwards.

The Wrecker listened to Carbine's chatter over the comm lines with half an audial but didn't join in. His focus was keeping lookout, just in case the forest spat out another mystery shooter at them.

[Optimus Prime]

Just as Optimus was leaning down to loop his arms under Thunder's own, he could only pause a second in response to the rather unexpected words to fall out of the other mech. He froze in place for the briefest of moments, that really the only external response of recognition even allotted before he continued down to try to heft the large mech up. No word of acknowledgment, no sigh, no shake of the helm, he shrugged it off and set it aside like water off a hydrophobic surface.

Internal reactions were a different story.

He couldn't believe Thunder would say that.

Optimus wasn't blind to the innuendo, and as naive and dense as he could sometimes seem with such things, he wasn't an idiot. He just chose to not supply reactions or acknowledge them really, carrying himself above such commentary. He also didn't really expect anyone to fling such statements at him, most in part due to his rank in the hierarchy of command. Who would really have the gall to say such things to a commanding officer? Let alone a Prime?

It seemed Thunder would.

He started to weave a net of excuses for Thunder in his processor, trying to find the rationality that would prompt such commentary. Deliriousness from Energon loss was a good one, or the levels of pain he was in impairing his judgment. Stress was another thing that could make ones thoughts go off the beaten path, while in truth it could be a nice concoction that blends them all together to produce this.

In truth, the excuses just needed a dash of 'just being what kind of mech Thunder was', and as such Optimus was slowly having to come to terms with this fact. The more he learned about the individual, the more he had to anticipate these sorts of shenanigans, and as such he was starting to build up a wall where eventually lines like that wouldn't be a shock any longer.

They would be expected.

Disliked.

But Expected.

With a bit of strain and some aid from Thunder, Optimus got the other mech up and to his feet enough to loop his arm over his shoulder and begin a retreat towards the ground bridge. He had hoped it would remain quiet then, hoped Thunder would be preoccupied with his injuries and the pain of moving, flinging out a few muttered cusses at most, but it seemed the Prime couldn't get a break. What was said next made him snort out a heavier ex-vent while trekking forward.

"That is not something you need to concern yourself with."

Dry comment, even tone, he was supplying the most bare bones response imaginable that ideally derailed Thunder's joking. He couldn't really blame him, once more putting up the excuses of pain and Energon loss to the jet's defense, but at the same time there was only so much that excuse could protect. Sooner or later such commentary will come back to slap Thunder in the face... metaphorically... depending on who Thunder ticked off...

"Focus on getting to the Medical Bay."

Optimus continued to trek forward at a steady gait, supporting Thunder at one moment, likely half dragging him the next. He didn’t let up or really give the other mech much time to complain or draw it out to catch his so called breath. After a few moments, the two passed through the vortex of the Ground Bridge, the ground transitioning from gravel and shrubbery, to the tunnel of energy the Ground Bridge created, only to fall down upon the concrete floors of the base with resounding clunks and loud scrapes of metal grating against its surface.

He would have to seriously consider expanding Ratchet's Medical Bay again. The more soldiers they have, the more that can become injured in a battle, and the more space that was needed. If they had been relying on the old Medical Bay, which was more... general somewhat appointed concept of an area rather than an actual room... they would have been mostly screwed over nowadays. Nonetheless, the Prime hefted Thunder into the area, glancing over at Smokescreen, before trying to ease Thunder to at least sit on the other berth, if not lay down.

Showing how much he has learned, Optimus opted to reply to Thunder before he could even ask or offer a completely inappropriate invitation.

"No."

[Deleted]

If Thundercloud wasn’t so sure that Optimus was sorely lacking in a sense of humor, he might have mistaken that dry remark of his for snark. As it was, however, the ex-con highly doubted the Prime’s words were meant in any way other than a bland statement of fact. Luckily for Optimus, Thundercloud took this as a sign that his attempt at humor was not appreciated, and that any further attempts at making light of the situation would likely be steadfastly ignored.

Under normal circumstances Thundercloud would have cheerfully ignored the fact he was being ignored and continue making unnecessary jokes which only he found humorous, but this time, he refrained. He wasn’t feeling the greatest, and it was hard to come up with witty things to say when he was spending so much brainpower on trying to stay awake and not faceplant on the floor in a dead faint. That took top priority. He could live with himself if he went without making smart remarks for five minutes. He could not, however, allow himself to continue existing if he passed out and had to be carried by the Prime. That kind of shame could never be lived down.

Especially not when Carbine existed to hold it over his head every waking moment of his life.

So, (much to Optimus’ relief, he was sure) Thundercloud actually behaved himself for once and tried not to make things more difficult on the Prime, as they made their way to the ground bridge. One would think such a relatively short walk would have been an easy one, but for Thundercloud, it became more and more difficult with each labored step he took. He was both at once grateful and mortified by the Prime’s assistance, the former because he really did not like the odds of being able to keep himself upright under his own power, and the latter because he needed his assistance in the first place.

Once his armor was shrapnel free, and he had time to sleep-off the explosion damage, he’d need to go hit something or do some pushups or some slag to boost his manliness levels back to normal.

Save for his labored breathing and the occasional curse under his breath, Thundercloud hardly made a sound as Optimus helped him drag himself into the medbay. The uncharacteristic silence might have been more concerning if the jet were visibly pained, or bleeding profusely, but as it was he was well enough to hop up on a medslab and sit down when prompted, without assistance, and he seemed surprisingly alert for someone who had just been turned into a pincushion and tossed around by a pair of explosions.

He was not, however, alert enough to realize right away that Prime telling him to get onto a berth was the perfect setup for a dirty joke, until Optimus beat him to the punch and stopped any inappropriate suggestion he might have made before he even got the chance to come up with it.

Grinning, Thunder snapped his fingers then pointed to the Prime, looking amused and even a little proud.

“You’re catchin’ on quick.”

[Deleted]

Ghost Wind had bridged in very close to the clearing where Optimus and Wheeljack had found Smokescreen and Air Raid. His movements had been mainly around said clearing before he'd taken off to be bridged out again. In terms of a trail, it wasn't very long and would lead Bolo (and Carbine and Wheeljack, by extension) back to where he'd started. There was not much to look at, really. Some crushed vegetation on the outside of the clearing. A few paint flicks here and there, scattered on tree-trunks and branches. Nothing that could be used to identify the mech who'd passed through several minutes before.

(He had a weapon that fired arrows, though. Wheeljack wouldn't be forgetting that anytime soon and it was definitely going into his post-mission report).

All Carbine and Wheeljack would find, really, were more questions. The mystery shooter presented one big question mark. They had no clues to his motives, which faction he belonged to, why he'd been there at all. It was highly unlikely that the full sequence of events here would ever be clear to the Autobots and their human allies.

(Smokescreen's report on this event would add only more confusion. After all, Air Raid had flown in and so had the MECH helicopters. But he'd seen no sign of Decepticons and from all enemies he'd encountered, it seemed that only MECH had been involved. Yet ground bridges had so far remained purely in Cybertronian possession).

Wheeljack would report in what they found, unless Carbine did so first as the copbot would arrive on the scene before he would. Other than that…

::Since Thunder brought part of the shuttle in by wearing it, should I head up to the crash site and check if there's anything that we've missed?:: he pinged Prime.

[Optimus Prime]

Optimus did not react to Thunders' prodding, but that was to be expected. The praise on how well he was catching on didn’t even seem to register to the Prime, disregarded in a way that could possibly make someone question if they had even vocally said what they had, or it was all imagination. It was during this pointed ignoring of the sass, that he listened to what the others were saying through the Comms, keeping keen attention to anything that may be going amiss there.

Seeing that Thunder was so far gone he didn't even intend to offer a reply to his partner, and that Wheeljack was looking to know what the plan was, Optimus turned away from the jet enough so to be able to speak without it seeming as if it was directed to him. One hand rose up to press upon the side of his helm in order to activate the communication relay, while the other reached over to plant on Thunder's collar region. He pressed down with a firm touch, trying to get Thunder to relent and lie down instead of just... sitting upright as if he had something to prove or was intending to leave.

Not on Optimus' watch.

::Thundercloud will be fine::

He stated bluntly before continuing to speak to Wheeljack.

::Given recent events, return to the base once satisfied with your search for clues on who our mystery guest was. We can worry about shrapnel recovery later::

The shuttle... what was left of it really wouldn't be much use to humans. Once everything was settled and the chaos in the Medical Bay was subsided, they could return for the shrapnel. The Cybertronian metals could be beneficial for raw material. While MECH getting hold of said metals was not ideal, it would not progress their technology the same way an intact ship had the potential to, so leaving it till a later time would be acceptable. That said if Wheeljack INSISTED, he would not protest but would be displeased.

Pressing enough that the battered and injured Thunder finally relented and flopped back against the berth like a felled tree, Optimus removed his hand and looked over at where Ratchet was working with notable concern. While he was no medic, he knew he could help out at least with simple injuries just as any soldier could. There was no need for Ratchet to get directly involved with Thunder's comparatively minor wounds, when Red Alert was...

He didn't want to think about it.

Would it be different if he had been faster...?

Optimus' eyes closed a moment, before he turned and began to remove shrapnel and patch torn lines.



There was still a long day ahead of them all.