The Bad News Comes A-Knocking [Endy, Thunder, Carbine]

[Deleted]

The ‘Con went up in flames, screaming in unbridled agony as the flames fed upon the fuel which coated his body and seared his plating black. Thundercloud watched as he rolled and writhed, attempting to put himself out and end his pain, attempting to snuff the flames before they could spread and consume him entirely.

Deciding to help the poor bastard in his endeavor, Thundercloud curled his lip, drew his head back a bit, then spat on him.

It didn’t do much to kill the flames, truth be told, but then again, if Thundercloud actually didn’t want the ‘Con to die a slow, agonizing death via immolation, he wouldn’t have set him on fire in the first place. In fact, he could’ve walked away from the burning mech right then and there, left him to his fate and not felt a damn thing. No remorse, no pity - nothing at all, save for maybe grim satisfaction.

He would have done just that too, if the universe hadn’t decided that precise moment was the best time for yet another problem to come along and inconvenience him.

Cutting through the roar of Buffalo’s anguished cries, a voice called out to him, joking darkly about the poor state the garbage-mech was in. Immediately Thundercloud straightened, helm whipping around to seek the owner of the voice, optics narrowed in defensive hostility, but bright with surprise. He hadn’t known there was a third ‘Con skulking around the canyon, but even if he had, he wouldn’t have expected them to respond the way this purple fragger was to seeing one comrade knocked out and the other literally burning to death before their optics.
Normally, he wouldn’t give a damn about facing off against what all signs pointed to a completely deranged ‘Con, but these were not normal circumstances. In a one on one brawl, he’d have only himself to worry about, which meant he wouldn’t have anything to worry about at all. This? Was not a one on one fight. He had a half-conscious mech bleeding out in his arms, which, no offense to Carbine, was one hell of a handicap. There was just no way he could possibly beat the Con down, protect Carbine from him, and get the sorry son of a glitch to a medic all at the same time.

That left him with three options.

Option One: Set Carbine down, comm for a medic, and then take care of the ‘Con before he could make a move on either one of them.

Option Two: Cut out the middle man, call for a ground-bridge, and run Carbine to the medbay, without fighting the Con at all.

Option Three: Call for a ground-bridge, run Carbine to the medbay, then bridge right back to the scene to finish what he started.

The angry, vindictive part of Thundercloud (which, admittedly, was a very big part of him) immediately voted for Option One when Skywarp pointed to Carbine and had the gall to ask if he could finish him off. His field crackled, his plates bristling in a toxic mixture of protective outrage and righteous indignation at the outrageous question. His lip curled, his optic twitched. He felt the overwhelming urge to drive a railroad spike through the Con’s optic.

And yet, instead of letting Carbine go, his grip on the smaller mech only tightened.

Before he could get the chance to calm himself enough to speak with words instead of meaningless growls, Carbine piped up, wearily voicing both their opinions on the matter in two simple, tired words. Thundercloud had to give him credit for neither of those words being a curse - he wouldn’t have been able to show that much restraint.

“He’s off limits.” He replied a moment later, once he managed to wade through the haze of red clouding his mind and actually find a string of words to construct into a recognizable sentence.

Then, he nodded his head towards the burning mech, his voice as hard and stony as his expression. “He’s fair game, though. Don’t think anyone would mind you toppin’ off someone who’s already done in.”

While he spoke, hoping his words would distract the ‘Con long enough to buy him some time, Thundercloud opened his comm link and sent an urgent message back to base. It hurt a little to swallow his pride and ask for help, but he’d be damned if he was going to let Carbine die because of his own machismo.

[Deleted]

Skywarp had given an amused flick of his wings at Bolo's growl while he continued to circle round. Daaaw, look at the little mechabeast. Trying to act tough when its maw was gaping and open aaaand useless. Idly, the Seeker pondered just how hard it would be to crush the little beast. It'd be quick on its feet whereas Skywarp was slow buuut being able to teleport tended to render such things null. Besides, he could always just shoot it, if he couldn't be bothered catching it.

Carbine's response was completely ignored. He was soon to be dead and an Autodolt anyway, so his opinion didn't really count for anything. Dead people didn't have rights. Then again, Skywarp couldn't care less for the rights and opinions of living people either, so it all balanced out. Which was why, when Thunder added his objections Skywarp soundly ignored them too. He did tilt his head a little when Thunder brought up Buffalo Dump.

The big Seeker had been moving himself around to get a better look at the garbage mech in fact, situating himself opposite the aerial and the helibot, with Buffalo Dump between them. When you could teleport, it kinda meant that your position relative to the other mech didn't matter so much. Careful to ensure he hadn't been in range of the dump truck's flailing limbs, Skywarp had been peering over the mech, intrigued by the flames while he ignored the two Autodolts.

"I don't know," Skywarp answered slowly. "He looks pretty done for. Where's the fun in that?"

He raised his head suddenly, optics locking onto Thunder. Skywarp calmly raised one servo, transforming it in an assault cannon and pointing it straight at Carbine. An audible whine could be heard as a shot charged within the cannon.

"You should probably run," he advised cheerfully.

They had maybe two astroseconds at most. Then he was going to start shooting. Thunder's legs would be the first thing he was going to aim at. And when Skywarp shot, he very rarely tended to miss.

[Carbine]

Bolo was a hundred and ten percent unhappy with this situation now. He had wanted to win! He DID win! Even though Thunder was the one to set the mech on fire, and do the severe leg damage, Bolo still gave HIMSELF the credit for the huge mech's downfall! (Probably Endy's fall too) He only had to return wherever with Master, to make sure he was ok! But nooo this new thing had to appear. While he didn't have a direct command from Master to tell him this was a threat? He just sensed it was.

Perhaps it was feeding off of subtle emotions from Carbine, leaching off of the intelligence his larger frame possessed. Bolo certainly would have no distinguishing facts to validate this on his own more than posture, though Skywarp definitely screamed 'foe' somehow. Whether it was the energy fields in the air influencing, or him being able to put the square block through the square hole, or just some animal instinct that came naturally, it didn’t matter, because it was all Bolo needed to start his growls.

In addition to these growls, the canine spat and reeled in rage that could not be released. This sputtering snort of a sound caused some of the saliva like Energon froth that had been about his mouth to slap forward onto the dry earth to pair with another angry huff. It was not unlike a child throwing a bit of a tantrum, while his head lashed down in a thrash, as if it would right his jaw which simply slapped about with a hollow clunk.

Carbine meanwhile, just... hung there...

He truly didn't have enough energy to want to try to stand on his own. He possibly could again; he probably could have handled being led out clutching Thunder's arm to keep himself upright while lethargic legs drug themselves forward for each step, but really? Why go through that pain and frustration, when you can just lean back and be carried where you needed to go?

It is because of this, Carbine's helm tilted back some, hanging loosely from its joints as he stared arbitrarily towards the sky above. The fact they were on an alien (to them) planet? Made it all the more surreal, as the sky was just this weird flat... panel... with wisps of white shredded across it in a way he couldn't really compile a comparison towards. Because his head wasn't tilted back enough to see the horizon line? It also was disorienting, making his processor spin trying to find what way was up and what way was down.

"Nooo... I a?m? no?t fai?r game... ...aft."

Carbine ended up growling this back, obviously not catching the motion that Thunder had made towards Buffalo. To him? Thunder was just being a dick and joking that he was off limits, but then recalling this decision to lean towards the fact nobody would mind he was dead.

Oh, oh YOU'D mind you glitch...

Bolo meanwhile didn't understand teleporters, and so he didn't think Skywarp was near enough to be threat enough for him to attack. It is because of this? He sat down when Thunder stopped moving. The thick neck of the canine stretched forward idly during this downtime, internally winching in pain as the external neck cable was moved about. Hydraulic oil oozed from the pipe, and it was something that made him want to crawl away and hide.

The police hound didn't like showing pain, which is why he's been doing so well so far. While the slashes to his head didn't hurt as much as if it was a full helm with the complete set of pain receptors? It still stung, and his neck was sore, jaw feeling like it was dislocated without that pressure behind it. All he wanted to do was curl up underneath the control panel on their shuttle that wasn't in existence any longer. Hide away where no one could touch him so he could recover.

The words the other mech spoke broke the canine from his inner thoughts. While he couldn't compile the full message? And couldn't deduce the outcome? He had understood 'You' and 'Run' and that was enough to make him look up at Thunder for a command since Master was... not really able...

[Deleted]

Thundercloud was not the sort to flinch when staring down the barrel of a gun. Over the thousands of years he spent in service, he had been shot full of holes and patched back together only to repeat the process over and over again more times than he could keep track of. He had reached the point where the prospect of being shot wasn’t frightening so much as it was annoying. Pain receptors could be blocked, wounds could be patched. So long as his armor did its job and kept shots from reaching his internals, he had little to fear other than some sharp but temporary pain and a bit of inconvenient bleeding.

But it wasn’t him that Skywarp was aiming his cannon at, it was Carbine, so he felt he could be excused for flinching just this once.

Taking a half step back, Thundercloud glanced down at the mech in his arms, then back to the cannon directed at him, his blood-slick hands tightening their grip as if holding Carbine tighter would somehow make him more invulnerable to laserfire. For the briefest of moments, he was selfishly relieved that Carbine was too out of it to notice the faint flicker of unease in his field.

He didn’t know what to do.

There was nothing he could do, beyond stand there and get shot at - which, inevitably, is what he did.

Skywarp took his aim, and fired. Pain erupted just below Thundercloud’s knee, the shot burning through the first few layers of his armor, scorching the metal black. The hole in his shin glowed faintly in the center, smoke ghosting through the wound and swirling up into the air, tainting it with the acrid scent of burnt metal.

The worst of the pain was washed away by a flood of relief as he realized he had been shot instead of Carbine. A gouged shin was infinitely preferable to a dead friend - though the latter would sure as hell make running a glitch and a half.

Not that there was anywhere to run in the first place. At least, nowhere where a laserblast wouldn’t catch up with them.

Or so he thought.

Before the first drop of energon dripping down his leg had the chance to meet the ground, there was an explosion of light a short distance behind him, a tell-tale burst of sound announcing the opening of a groundbridge.

Thundercloud found himself grateful he had decided to stick with the Autobots after all. When they were called for help, they actually delivered. (Unlike a certain purple menace he could mention.)

He turned with a grimace, reluctant to turn his back on an enemy, but at the same time, taking comfort in knowing the gesture blocked Carbine from Skywarp’s sight. He watched the bridge, wondering who would come out of it, and why they weren't doing so with guns blazing.

Evidently it was no one, judging by the way the bridge closed and disappeared from existence before anyone exited from it. The moment it did, Thundercloud swore something so vile it had been outlawed in two separate star systems for inciting riots, wings flicking upward in a mixture of incredulity and righteous anger as he realized he and Carbine were apparently on their own.

But then a small grenade-shaped cylinder flew through the air out of goddamn NOWHERE before rolling to a stop between himself and Skywarp, and he had about three seconds to realize what was actually going on, before the canister hissed and smoke erupted from it in a thick, black stream. Within seconds Thundercloud found himself engulfed in the inky cloud, unable to see anything through the dark fog, not even the mech he held so close to his chest.

He was startled by a touch on his arm, alarm flaring through him briefly before he recognized the familiar field suddenly next to his own, and the cultured voice speaking inside his head, over his comm.

::Be quiet, both of you. Don't make a sound::

Then all at once his vision went dark, and not from the smoke surrounding him. When it cleared, he would continue to see nothing - and so would Skywarp. Where Carbine and Thundercloud once stood, there would be nothing to see other than the vacant spot where they had last been.

[Deleted]

Well. That was weird.

Skywarp had been hoping that the Autobot would run because it was more fun to shoot a moving target than a stationary one. A mech standing still was boring, it took nothing at all to hit one. With most of Skywarp's processor slaved to his warp drive, the Seeker might as well take advantage of the set-up to pull-off tricky shots. Watch some silly Autobots run around for a bit, let 'em think maybe they had a chance of escaping or something, then-blam!

Except Thunder hadn't. Hadn't moved at all. This wasn't part of the game. The Autodolt had either given up or didn't seem to care that his buddy had a cannon pointed at him. It was never fun playing with someone who didn't want to play a game.

This was boring

Lip-plates pressed tight in annoyance, Skywarp lowered his arm only a moment before he fired. Well, if the Autodolt didn't care about the threat against his friend, maybe some pain would cause some shreds of self-preservation to kick or something. Hell, he'd just settle for something, any reaction other than Thunder's blank acceptance of his inevitable fate.

The plasma shot flew true and struck Thunder's leg. Skywarp didn't have time to relish the hit (nor would he, of course it was going to hit, he'd known it was. If anything, he was regarding the shot rather sullenly because it had been boring and effortless) before there was that-ah. There was a spike of familiar energy and sure enough, half an astrosecond later, a ground bridge opened up behind the Autobots.

Skywarp quirked an optic ridge. He didn't think it was a Con ground bridge, someone would have said something over the comm channels. Probably. Maybe. Skywarp wasn't supposed to be here after all. So that left the Autobots. And beyond that ground bridge probably lead into the Autobot base on this mudball of a planet. If he could, Skywarp would have teleported over to it but the math got all funny inside his processor whenever he thought so much as activating his warp drive near a open ground bridge and some deeper instinct told him that it was a Very Bad Idea. And if there was one thing Skywarp did, it was listen to his instincts, he couldn't afford not to. Didn't have the processing power to think things through.

A shot built in one of Skywarp's cannon as Thunder turned round and started walking towards the portal. But the ground bridge opened and shut a lot faster than Skywarp was expecting, with no one exiting it from the other end. A surprised laugh escaped from the Seeker. Oh, that was funny. The aerial had been offered hope, only for it to be snatched so quickly away. Autobots were great.

Only-

Skywarp didn't fail to notice the canister materializing out of nowhere. It may have been small but the Seeker's vision was top of the line. His processor already had a vector mapped and tracked from its trajectory because that's just what being a living space bridge did to you. Skywarp just didn't act on it for a few moments because he was pondering over which sort grenade had been thrown, whether it could hurt him and if he even cared (the answer to that last question was, of course, no).

The smoke though, that kinda was a clue.

Skywarp might be dumb but he could recognize a smoke grenade and what it did at the very least. As the inky black cloud billowed and escaped from the canister, the Seeker's cannons thrummed to life.

Then, Skywarp started firing, the initial burst towards the place he'd last seen Thunder, his cargo and Bolo, before spraying and filling the smoke cloud and the surrounding area with plasma fire.

[Carbine]

For a moment there, Carbine was drifting down into temporary shutdown and thus did indeed lose out on seeing Thunder show a moment of weakness. However this also meant he missed out on Thunder literally taking a bullet for him, and the nauseating stench of the plasma seared metal. He would need to connect with Bolo after the fact to know what had happened more so than just listening to reports that could be faked, but even then, Bolo wasn't the best at that. He would probably just gleam that a gunshot hit Thunder from the hound and that was it. This hazy stupor though was broken slightly when the Ground Bridge portal ripped open.

One of Carbine's optics lazily opened, it feeling like he had something in it even if there was nothing there as his vision was fogged over. He could make out the light of the ground bridge, and he could make out the general shape of the thing to the side, but just as soon as it had come, it had left, and he was convinced for a moment that they had entered the Omega Outpost. I mean... the light WAS there and now was gone, no?

"Cuttin' it close? ?t?he?re... fragger..."

His tone was relaxed, head lolling back while he believed he was now safe from danger. The disgraced cop gave a flick of his hand, an attempted rude gesture to someone that wasn't actually there, aimed where the Ground Bridge control would be if they had actually just passed through the vortex. After this motion, the arm went ragdoll with a whir of internal mechanisms, hanging slack down towards the ground while he relaxed further and waited for his pain receptors to be disabled, which would be completely awesome right about now. He also mumbled something about his helmet, and 'making the scars look badass' and other gibberish under his breath that was barely audible if at all.

The grenade, and the suffocating smoke that followed, confused his addled processor, and he couldn't really figure it out. Was this what it is like to be put under to undergo repairs? No... no he had plenty of attempted fixes on his helm, and he knew what that was like, but he didn’t know what this was, and made a whining sound that paired up in tandem with Bolo's whimpering.

Bolo was confused, and didn't know what was happening. He was ready to go through the Ground Bridge, but it had vanished and Thunder didn't make his wants of him clear. The smoke only riled up his distress a bit, and he actually snapped his head to the side as if longing and wishing to literally bite through the intangible material. An act made impossible by his injury, and the fact it was indeed smoke.

While Carbine had enough sense to hush up and only make noises associated with his damaged ventilation system, lost trying to figure out what was happening, Bolo started to make more noise in distress. This was amped to a new level when his vision blanked out entirely, and he didn't know what was happening. Luckily for the others nearby, Mirage had taken the moment to place a hand on the canine and try to calm him, letting him know who it was.

Bolo recognized Mirage's scent, remembering how Master trusted them and was trying to be on good terms with them. But... he was blinded... he didn't know what was happening. Instead of being the bouncy happy puppy he was their last meeting, Bolo was stiff, limbs post straight and locked down. His frame wouldn't give or move from the touch, but he did go silent, ears flicking around in his blindness.

It would be a bit difficult to move Bolo while he was like this, unless he got his head pushed in the direction they wanted him to go, and pulled hard enough, he would keep his paws dug down in confused protest. This was especially true when the blasting sounds started to occur, his small mind telling him he couldn't run to flee from it, or even charge to attack the source while he couldn't see, yet he wanted to do SOMETHING.

It was this conflict that started to make the canine shake, not out of straight up fear, but out of confused distress.

[Deleted]

On the list of slag Thundercloud hated experiencing, getting shot was pretty high on the list. Not too high, though, because he had most certainly experienced things a hell of a lot worse than getting shot---actually, thinking it over, he figured getting shot was probably somewhere in the middle of the list, between having to deal with one-night-stands that wouldn’t fraggin’ leave, and waking up with miscellaneous object superglued to his frame because Carbine could not be trusted with adhesives of any kind without adult supervision.

So, okay, getting shot wasn’t really all that bad in the grand scheme of things. That didn’t make it hurt any less, and it sure as hell didn’t make him bleed any less.

Skywarp lost his slag when the smoke rolled in, started firing here, there, and everywhere, trying to hit the targets he couldn’t see by just shooting the hell out of absolutely everything around him. Unfortunately for Thundercloud, the first shot met its mark. The plasma round hit him square between the shoulders, causing him to stagger a half-step forward and nearly lose his grip on Carbine in the process.

Normally, this is when he would have cursed, or hissed, or made a very rude remark about someone’s parentage, but despite how very (...very, very) much he wanted to verbally express his discontent, he remembered very clearly that Mirage asked them to be quiet. Usually he wasn’t much for doing what people told him, but considering the circumstances, it was either do as he was asked, or risk being detected and subsequently shot again.

The warm wash of fluid sluggishly dripping down his back made it a lot easier for him to side against the latter option.

Righting himself, made quick work of adjusting his grip on Carbine, shifting the smaller mech so that his upper half rested more heavily against his shoulder, so that he could hold him up with one arm and leave the other free in the event he needed to do some punching with it.

And, dear god, did he want to do some punching. A lot of it. Just an obscene amount of punching, particularly of one specific teleporting maniac’s face.

If only he didn’t have a mech actively bleeding out against his shoulder. He could vent his frustrations by breaking Skywarp’s head open then ride out that euphoric wave of catharsis until Carbine got patched up and stopped dying on him.

Inconsiderate fragger, flaunting his mortality at the most inconvenient times. Thundercloud was gonna have to pull him aside later and have a talk with him, remind him he wasn’t allowed to die without his expressed permission.

But first they would have to make it back to base alive.

Luckily for them, Mirage seemed to have a plan for how exactly they were meant to do that, which was one whole plan more than Thundercloud had himself. Once Skywarp began firing in all directions, creating a convenient clamor of noise to disguise their movements, Mirage hastily sent Thundercloud another message over their comm.link, while doing...something. What, exactly, Thundercloud had no idea, but he gave the brightplate the benefit of the doubt and assumed he was doing something useful and not just touching up his finish.

The message was short and to the point: grab Bolo and rush forward when he heard the sound of the groundbridge bursting into life. Simple instructions, nice and clear. No need for questions - not that he even had the opportunity to ask any, given Mirage’s warning came just five seconds before the bridge flared into existence right in front of him, close enough he could feel its energy crackling against his plates.

He didn’t need to be prompted into motion. Surprised though he was by the bridge’s unexpectedly fast arrival, he was not stunned, and he was quick to act upon Mirage’s instructions. With his free hand he reached down blindly, his hand making contact with the side of Bolo’s head before moving down to seize hold of the dog’s harness. Without preamble, he hoisted the cassette up as if he were no heavier or cumbersome than a suitcase and rushed forward like the Unmaker himself was at his heels, ignoring the sharp throbbing pain below his knee with each heavy step he took. His vision returned to him the moment he stepped out of Mirage’s veil of invisibility, but he knew better than to look back to try to see what was going on behind him.

Whatever was happening out there was Mirage’s problem now; there was nothing he could do to help him when he had his arms full with a dying mech and a very unhappy cassette.

Not that Mirage seemed to need his help in the first place. He had sounded confident when he told him to go, and that he would provide he and Carbine with cover while they made their escape. “I’ll be along shortly” were, generally speaking, not the parting words of mecha who didn’t have a situation under control.

Whatever the spy had planned, Thundercloud hoped it worked. For Mirage’s own sake, and for Carbine’s - the last thing they needed was for the Con to rush through the bridge, or for Mirage to get flattened in the process.

Fortunately for Mirage’s structural integrity, he could still aim his rifle while cloaked thanks to his thermal sensors. If Skywarp charged the bridge, he would be met with resistance. Of the explosive round variety.

[Deleted]

The thing that few mecha could comprehend was the symbiotic relationship Skywarp had with his warp drive. Skywarp was, in some respects, little more than a sentient, mobile ground bridge (space-bridge, once upon a time) with a pair of heavy cannons and a total penchant for cheerful destruction. Deciphering what went on inside the Seeker's demented processor required a degree in neurocircuitry, quantum physics and cyber-biology. The team responsible for creation of Skywarp and his ilk had eventually thrown their hands up in defeat and shoved the survivors away to be someone else's problem.

The Seeker existed in a considerably altered reality from other living beings. He was sensitive, always, to the energy that tore holes within time and space and could sense a nearby ground bridge opening a slim moment before the visible portal made itself known. So while Skywarp's shots had been scattered before, spraying the area in an attempt to hit his enemies, the tingle he received warning him of an incoming hole in Eucledian dimensions gave him a target. He didn't need to see the ground bridge with his optics to know where it was. The portal was a complicated tangle of physics at the back of his processor, warning him not to 'port near it.

Skywarp adjusted his aim, focusing his fire towards the portal almost as soon as it opened. He may have lost track of wherever Thunder and Carbine had vanished to, but a ground bridge provided a good idea of where they might try to go. Or where additional Autobot reinforcements might come from. It was his intention that anyone who decided to make use of the portal was going to sincerely regret it. There was no malice to this thought, in fact, if anything Skywarp was excited by this turn of events. Things were getting interesting again!

It did not occur to Skywarp at all that he could run towards the portal. He could shoot at it just fine from where he was.

Why move when he didn't have to?

[Carbine]

Hey... hey...

Thunder?...

Yeah I think you are fragging up...

Hey... we already went through the ground bridge...

Carbine's helm rolled back when he saw the Ground Bridge lights again, his confusion compounded about ten times as much from before. He tried to draw himself back in to reality, trying to lasso up some semblance of conscious stability as he was shifted to sit at a different angle in Thunder's grip. This shift caused him to hiss, Energon, oil, and coolant flowing down now no longer held within his torso from gravity alone. This caused the multi-colored materials to drip and flow along Thunder's forearm to trickle off his wrist armor.

Why are we going back?

Where are you taking me?

What is happening?

Yellow optics hazily looked ahead through the spiral of lights, and he instantly regretted it as it made up down and down right and it was.. a mess. In response Carbine threw his helm back once more with a frustrated noise as if that sound explained away everything he was trying to convey in his processor. He weakly felt out through his link for a moment for Bolo, and was happy to sense he was still near, so the ex-cop relaxed again.

Bolo wasn't so calm.

When his helm was touched it wrenched to the side with a low growling noise. He wouldn't have bitten Thunder just yet, but his helm was scratched and gouged up, and his jaw hurt. If the Jet kept it up, he would have gotten gummed at with the disabled jaw in an attempt at a warning bite that couldn't be formed, but luckily the large jet abandoned it as his hand got purchase on the harness.

Hoisted up, Bolo's legs went post straight once more, paw pads flared out with small toes trying to grasp on anything. He was too tiny though compared to Thunder, and was lifted clean off the ground, letting out a disoriented pop of a growl. It was only after a couple paces the flood of lights returned when his vision slammed back into him, and he started to squirm in protest to being carted along. His squirming was also in response to the laser blasts that came scarily close to him as well.

[Deleted]

Running for his life wasn’t exactly something Thundercloud was proud of having to do. Turning his back on an enemy felt like taking the coward’s way out, like by choosing flight over fight, he was somehow admitting that he couldn’t defeat whoever he was running from.

Primus, but he wanted to stay and fight. He wanted to stay and fight and turn someone into a corpse, then spend a few minutes kicking that corpse, then he wanted to toss that corpse over the ridge and watch it fall apart once it finally touched ground.

...God, that didn’t sound healthy. Maybe he really did have anger issues.

Ah well, not like there was anything to do about that now. There were more important matters to attend to than addressing the boiling miasma of vindictiveness and suppressed rage that he had for a personality quirk. Namely, hauling ass through the ground bridge before Carbine bleed out on him.

And damn, did Thundercloud haul ass.

For a big mech, he could be remarkably quick when push came to shove, and the fact that Carbine was practically DYING while they were actively being fired upon provided one hell of a push. Granted, the sound of gunfire was nothing Thundercloud wasn’t used to, nor was the familiar feeling of his armor being singed as plasma fire seared past him, shooting forward and striking primus knew what on the other side of the bridge. Probably rock. Hopefully not something Ratchet need.

He would never hear the end of it if it was.

Mirage, meanwhile---well, he took a bit of umbrage to being shot at, as one would. Fortunately he was not a very tall mech, and a bit of crouching was all he had to do to keep out of Skywarp’s line of fire. Just as he had promised, he readied his rifle and covered Thundercloud as he retreated into the bridge with a suppressive rifle blast in Skywarp’s direction.

He did not bother to wait to see whether the hit landed, instead taking the distraction his rocket-dart would hopefully provide as an opportunity to rush into the bridge after Thundercloud, before the portal could close without him.

Soon enough, Skywarp would find himself firing into nothing more but empty space.

[Deleted]

He was being shot at.

Skywarp's keen optics caught the glint of the rocket dart flying at him. That brief glimpse was enough for his processor, which immediately plotted a vector for the rocket-dart. The big Seeker casually took one large step to carry himself out of its path, still firing at ground-bridge. He felt the portal's disintegration before it visibly started to close.

The ground-bridge fizzled shut and Skywarp's cannons fired a few last shots before they powered down with a reluctant whine. The Seeker cocked his head to the side, scanning the canyon floor before taking several long strides to examine the blast scorched earth where the ground bridge has previously been. His sensors picked up nothing.

Turning his head, Skywarp took in the defeated Decepticon forces spread out across the canyon. Dead Vehicons and Buffalo Dump's damaged body littered the ground. At least the Autobots hadn't made off the energon. Skywarp made no move to check whether the gross thing was still alive or needed medical attention. Instead, he laced his fingers together and slid his hands behind his head.

"Command's gonna be sooo fragged at this," he observed easily. Whether it occurred to Skywarp that some of the blame probably was going to fall on him, he gave no sign. He almost decided not to call in the Nemesis, simply because he was lazy and didn't feel like it. Then Skywarp shrugged and opened a comm line.

::Heeeey, Starscream…::