[ti]Ep 1.5[/ti]Shake off the rust...

[Deleted]

::Episode 1.5, Week 2, Day 5::

Cold… it was always cold on Cybertron now a cycle. Most planets were warmed not just externally by the sun they orbited, but also internally by their molten cores. The metal planet was no different for a time since its core also internally heated the planet, sending it’s ‘hot of the plate’ Energon coursing through the planet for the population to consume. However Cybertron’s core was no longer functioning, thus it was no longer internally warming the planet. As a result the metal planet was colder now, but as one of the last Cybertronians on the planet looked up at the star filled sky and let out a sorrowful sigh. At that moment he would’ve preferred the sun going dark instead because the Energon that came from Cybertron’s core was also the only fuel that Cybertronians could consume.

And within 10 square clicks there wasn’t a drop of Energon anywhere. The only living Cybertronian within that large area had picked it clean.

Hazmat shook his helm as he rolled his right shoulder as he gazed up at the star filled sky. If he focused he could pretend that he could make out what was left of the exhaust that the Ark had left behind as it had taken off… without him. A low angry growl escaped his voice box as his right servo tightened into a fist. A long duel with a skilled Decepticon that had slaughtered his entire squad was responsible for that… not exactly the ‘Con but rather the duel itself… and Smokestack’s anger about losing the convoy that the squad had been guarding. The old Autobot could’ve retreated from the battle if he had moved fast enough, and then he might have made it to the Ark before liftoff. But no, he had to avenge his fallen comrades even though their last words were for him to run, and that led to one of the longest one-on-one duels in his long life against a much younger ‘Con that was clearly skilled. The duel ended when the sound of the Ark’s first stage thrusters coming online and lifting the last hope of all Autobots into space... leaving the old mech behind on a Primus forsaken wasteland. He fought alongside the other Autobots that got left behind but in the end Hazmat was the only mech left standing in the Deacon’s underground.

Hazmat wasn’t sure what became of the Decepticon that had caused him to miss his only way off of Cybertron, but at the moment it didn’t really matter. So he relaxed and let tightened digits of his servo go slack. He was here, and he’d have to deal with it. With that Hazmat returned to the task at hand; attempt to figure out how to climb down the collapsed tower he had climbed a few hours ago. He squatted down, the hydraulics and joints making up his legs groaning slightly under his weight, to get a closer inspection of the remains of the elevator shaft that he had climbed up to get up the tower in hopes of finding any Energon up there. He had gotten lucky and scrounged enough to fill two cubes… but while he had been scraping the last few drops of Energon into the second cube his audio pickups heard the sound of a crash, and when he got back to the elevator shaft he found that there wasn’t any shaft left.

Which left him a bit of a problem; the only way down was to either take a flying leap and hope he’d handle the long drop, or try to climb down the rusty support beams and hope they could handle his weight along with the weight of the building they were still holding up. Of course Hazmat went with the latter since it was a really long fall, and carefully swung his heavy chassis over the edge and planted his pedes on the first support. It held, much to the old Cybertronian’s relief. He then slowly removed one pede from the support and bent the leg that was now holding all of his weight, lowering himself towards the next horizontal support while his servos loosely held onto the vertical support on his right in case he needed to suddenly grab onto it. The pistons in his bending leg groaned and blew out steam but held as his free hanging pede found firm footing on the lower support. This time shifting his weight to the leg that was now on the lower support, Hazmat pulled his weight off of the bent leg and let it slowly extend to place it on the lower support and firmly planted that pede onto the support. This pattern continued as Smokestack slowly lowered himself from one support to the next, making his way downwards to safety.

It was working until he was two thirds of the way down when he heard a SNAP! One of the bolts of the support he was standing off had sheared the moment his full weight was on it! Hazmat tried to shift his weight to the next support beam, but there wasn’t enough time to… only for his green eyes to widen in fear.

SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!

”SCRAP!”

Down he went, falling like a sack of spare parts, the old Cybertronian fell the rest of the length of the tower and landed on his pedes with a thunderous thump! that echoed for almost a mile. The instant he hit the ground a stream of error message scrolled across the Autobot’s field of vision as Hazmat’s right leg started to burn with pain and couldn’t support his weight anymore, and he tipped forwards to end up on his servos and knees. ”Great. Just great.” Hazmat grimaced as he rolled onto his left side and then onto his aft and quickly sat up to look at the damage done to his leg. There was a crack in his Hazmat Armor’s outer shell running along the front of his right leg, just below the knee. Tiny bits of gold coloring could be seen in the crack, revealing the underlying insulation of the Hazmat Armor, along with a few drops of Energon leaking out of the crack.

Acting quickly Hazmat aimed his left forearm at his leg as the medical scanner extended from his forearm and started to scan his damaged limb. The beam was blue as it passed over his upper leg, but the moment the beam crossed the crack it turned red. All the while he was keeping a close eye on the scan readouts that were starting to scroll across his HUD on the left side. The results made him frown even more; the crack in his armor was caused by him hitting something on his landing that was hard enough to not only break his armor but to pinch one of his primary hydraulic lines. No hydraulic fluid was going down to his pede.

It would be an easy fix since all he needed to do was open up the armor an free up the line… but was one thought currently scrolling through Hazmat’s processor on repeat: Frag…

He was about to pull his leg closer to start working on it when the sound of a crunch drew his optics off to the right as his left servo quickly reached down to his left hip and curled around the grip of his Shot Cannon if he needed to draw it. He didn’t need to pull the grip back to load an Energon shell… it already had one loaded. Hazmat kept it loaded in case something came out of the darkness to attack him. One good close range shot normally did the trick, and if not it would stun any single target enough for him to either load another shell or grab his steam hammer. However now would be the worst time for something to try to attack him since he was currently disabled and unable to move. His head on a swivel, Hazmat surveyed his surroundings and found the source of the sound; a hunk of the broken elevator shaft had been crushed by a falling piece of debris. There was rust floating in the air so it was easy to tell. Hazmat would’ve relaxed slightly knowing that there wasn’t any danger but his leg was still broken so he wasn’t out of the pit yet.

Looking back down at his wound, Hazmat reached into his subspace and pulled out what looked like some type of stun gun. It was a medical device used to make the pain receptors in his leg go numb so he could repair his leg without screaming his voice box out, but still this self-surgery wasn’t going to be pleasant. However there was a downside: his Hazmat Armor made him resistant to it so the pain killer wouldn’t last long. After using the tool on his leg a few times, each time resulting in a small electrical discharge that made Hazmat flinch, he carefully opened up the damaged armor plating with his fingers to see the pinched hose, stuck between his armor and frame. The pooled up Energon in the wounded area quickly leaked out. There was no way he could to a proper repair, he just didn’t have the tools to do so… but he could patch it enough to get to safety. Gritting his teeth, Hazmat carefully used his servo tips to grab the hydraulic line and carefully pull it open at the pinched area to allow hydraulic fluid to flow through it again… but not much. This was followed by reconnecting the leaking Energon lines. Finally Hazmat closed up his Hazmat Armor, one layer of insulation at a time. His right servo retracted into his hands and a welder extended out in its place and he began to weld his armor shut. By the time he was finished with the last weld Hazmat was gritting his teeth in pain since the pain killer had worn off. If only he could tell his armor to turn off occationally!

But the repairs were done and it was now up to his auto-repair systems to fix the rest of the damage. It could do it but it would take time. Retracting his welder so he could use his servo again, Hazmat slowly rose by placing his weight on his left leg, than slowly applied weight to his right leg. It held. He tried to take a hesitant step, only to find his right ankle joint was weak due to lack of hydraulic fluids reaching the pede. It was going to be a long limp back to his shelter, and since he had to climb over some debris transforming into his alternate to get there wasn’t going to be an option. Seeing no other option, Hazmat right servo reached down to his right pede and grabbed a piece of metal to use it as a crutch. It held his weight, but barely.

It was a long and hard journey but Hazmat finally managed to get back to his shelter. It wasn’t much, or at least it wasn’t much now. Before it had been one of the many reclamation centers that dotted Cybertron’s underground. Now it was just another destroyed structure. Well, okay not entirely destroyed since it’s lower levels were still fairly intact, thanks to the fact that this reclamation center also served as a hub for custodial mechs to dump their detoxified cargo, get backup for a rather large cleanup job… or get repairs after running into something or someone rather bad in Cybertron’s underground. As a matter of fact this particular reclamation center was the closest one to the Decagon, though Hazmat had only been here once which was to refuel while on his way to Kaon with a shipment of hazmat cars. It wasn’t long afterwards that the Great War had begun and Hazmat temporarily joined the Decepticons before coming to his senses and switching to the Autobots.

Hazmat winced as he stepped down on his patched up leg once again, and looked up at the large contraption that he had set by the only entrance into his shelter; one of the last remaining remnants of his military carrier during the great war, a turret car which Hazmat had pulled himself during the great war. It was the only part of his convoy that had survived during the battle that ended with Smokestack missing the Exodus and all of his troops dying. Not knowing what he would be up against on this dead world, Hazmat had kept these turret cars with him during his travels throughout the dead planet’s destroyed surface and underground… only to run into only corpses that were already gun-metal gray or others that were so much worse off than him that killing them was more like putting them out of their misery then an actually battle. Eventually when Hazmat found this reclamation center and made it his shelter, he simply parked the turret car by the entrance into the shelter to act as means of self-defense if someone tried to attack his shelter. However after so many vorns went by without anyone showing up, Hazmat drained them of their Energon for his consumption. Now it was just an ornament that was rusting and gathering dust. The old Autobot limbed up to the mobile artillery and placed his left servo on it for support while he continued to limp into his shelter. So much time has passed, and I’m still relying on my allies for support… he thought as he carefully let go of the car and then placed a servo on the wall of the rectangular corridor that lead into his shelter. As he did so the only thing he could hear was the clunk clunk clunk of his large feet, along with the occational clang of his make-shift crutch.

At the end of the corridor was Hazmat’s shelter. As he limbed his way into the shelter he eyed everything carefully to make sure it was all still in place and functional, even with a big gun sitting on his front door that didn’t mean it would deter everyone that was desperate. The shelter was fairly drab but it was clean and livable… it was the home of a custodian after all. The room had been fashioned with a Cybertronian-sized couch and a few tables, a pair of Energon processors, couple of other medical tools, and some other repair tools… all of which Hazmat made use of. The couch was where he’d lie down to recharge… if he could get himself to recharge that is since he had some much trouble doing so since he always had recharge-mares. The tables acted as work benches since sometimes the custodian mech needed to make repairs to parts of his shelter… it was partly blasted apart. He had also made some modifications to one of the Energon processors using an emitter and several filters he had salvaged from a dead custodian bot he had found at one point, converting it into an Energon filtration machine. Hazmat carefully walked over to the filtration machine and leaned his waist against the table so he could use both servos instead only using one servo and having the other one occupied with holding himself up with his crutch. Reaching into his side mounted compartments with both arms, Hazmat lifted out the two cubes of Energon he had managed to salvage from the tower he had climbed. He placed them both down on the table and carefully removed their lids to reveal the Energon he had found earlier and frowned as a stream of golden light was emitted from his eyes and scanned the Energon for any contaminants… and found plenty of rust flakes. If he drank it like this his body would reject it… followed by him ‘ejecting’ it through regurgitation. He never experienced it and he had no plans too. So instead he simply picked up both cubes of Energon and slowly poured them into the Energon filter, closed the lid, and turned the device on. The filtration process would remove any contaminates from the Energon making it completely drinkable… though it would take quite a while.

With nothing to do but wait, Hazmat started to turn around and limp over to the couch but stopped half way over to glance at what was sitting in the back of the shelter, and the reason why he picked this as his shelter instead of somewhere else; the long range ground bridge that was still functional. When he first found it Hazmat had drained it of nearly all its Energon to stay alive, but when he realized that he just might have to make a run for it through through the bridge he left just enough energy in it for him to make a getaway. He wasn’t an expert on using ground bridges, but he had an idea he left enough Energon since the machine had a gauge. While it didn’t do much else to help Hazmat stay alive, he did occasionally glance at it to see if it’s radar was detecting anything he should be concerned about.

Which was why when he glanced over at the ground bridge while walking towards the couch he stopped. Every single time he had looked over at the ground bridge the displays had looked the same every time… though this time there was a new red light, and it wasn’t coming from the radar. Puzzled, Hazmat started to limp over to the ground bridge, his patched leg letting out a groaning sound each time he took a step. He was figuring the system was having an error and it needed to be repaired. Why not? It had gone without repairs for ages and that was before he found it… and without having anyway to fix it he just kinda left it. He was still surprised it was functional at all, let alone at a good efficacy. However when Hazmat had gotten over to the ground bridge control panel, his jaw nearly fell off of his helm; it was the ground bridge’s comm relay that was blinking! ”That can’t be right…” Hazmat said, thinking out loud, as he activated the diagnostic cycle for the ground bridge. After a moment the readout of the diagnostic’s results were deplayed, and Hazmat’s optics widened… and widened… and widened till they were about to pop out of his helm.

The ground bridge was receiving an incoming message from orbit! The ground bridge terminal had been broadcasting a signal this whole time and Hazmat didn’t even know it… and it was receiving a return signal on that broadcast! Hazmat wasn’t sure what to do! For all he knew this could’ve been a Decepticon contacting the ground bridge… or maybe it could’ve been an Autobot… or maybe a living Priest of Primius visiting Cybertron to see how the dead planet was doing and just happened to detect the ground bridge signal. Or maybe it was some passing none Cybertronian ship. Whichever it was, Hazmat wasn’t going to let an opportunity to leave Cybertron to pass up and he pressed the transparent blue button on the display to activate his end of the comm.

”This is Hazmat, commanding officer of Autobot mobile artillery unit 5567-Zeta, and the Zeta Company. To whom am I speaking with?” was what came out of his vocalizer. Now… to wait for a reply from whomever was on the other end of the line.

[Zercon]

When the communications line had been opened for Hazmat to make his statement, there was nothing but a soft crackle of static that greeted him. Hollow, empty, it sounded more like a dead line than one that had been actively transmitting a signal back to the ground-bound base long enough for the custodial mech to notice. There were a few chirps mixed in with the symphony of soft white noise, a pop, a little speck, most likely caused from the Space Bridge's aged systems and disrepair.

It would be a couple minutes of time that would pass, before one of the chirps crackled a final time, and a voice came over the radio in return. The screen on the Ground Bridge above the communication's relay flickered to life to pair with this, but it jittered and could not seem to form a proper image. There would only be spackles of frames where a large room could be seen, dim lit, with a figure standing before the monitor. A green band of light shuddered and streaked through the picture vertically, splitting the image into fractions. Despite the system trying to cooperate, nothing ever was depicted clearly however.

"Greetings Hazmat. This is Kamal, serving captain of the ESS Comet. I see here the 5567-Zeta has been dissolved for some time. Please transmit verification codes."

The voice was mechanical, dry, sounding not unlike a drone that was responding with an automatic message more so than speaking as a sentient Cybertronian. Despite the tone seeming robotic however and drab, its statements were far from what would be expected of such a thing, especially since it had claimed itself as a captain which... typically was not a title for a drone to uphold.

"Are there other personnel present?"

After these words, the line resumed the soft white noise of a poor relay that had been playing out before. The only difference now, was the active monitor that hummed.

[Deleted]

Hazmat stared at the communication equipment anxiously awaiting a reply from the comm signal he had transmitted, be he was only rewarded with static and a snow covered screen. Nothing but white noise and that worried the Autobot a little bit, though he didn't want to let himself lose hope quite yet. While one could condemn him for allowing himself to hope such a little thing, no one really could hold his hope against him. He had been on the destroyed world ever since the great war ended so all he could see were destroyed structures and gutted corpses of Autobots and Decepticons alike. In death, they were all the same; gun-metal gray.

After a minute or two Hazmat was wondering if the gate was actually transmitting when the static over the comm started to clear, and a very distorted image started to resolve on the screen. The image was horrible but it was evident that the ground bridge was indeed getting a signal. However the name of the cybertronian that was responding didn't ring any bells for Hazmat, nor did the ship name but it was confirmation that the signal was indeed coming from a ship... though it was still hard to tell if it was coming from orbit. Still, this Kamal wanted some proof that Hazmat was who he said he was, so he might as well comply. Autobot or Con, this Cybertronian he was talking to was the first individual he had spoken to in ages.

"Understood acting captain Kamal. It's nice to hear someone else's voice. Transmitting my verification codes now. Be advised my history is a long and colorful one... and not all of it is good. Also I'm the only one here... unfortunately. I do have plenty of functioning equipment though." Hazmat began, responding in his typical deep voice, though he was using his authoritative yet fatherly tone he was known to use with his troops. He was also gonna be honest with this mech. If he was a 'Bot then he might frown at seeing that Hazmat used to be a 'Con... and if Kamal was a 'Con then he wouldn't like the fact that Hazmat spent almost the entire war as an Autobot. Glancing over his shoulder at the modified Energon processor he could see that it was almost done. He couldn't of found that Energon at a better time since he would need to give it to the ground bridge for it to transport not just him but also some of the equipment that he had. They might come in handy. Some of it he could carry in the compartments on his legs where his weapons used to be stored. He didn't have his hammer and shot cannon anymore so those compartments were going unused. He also had his subspace to carry more of the equipment, along with a large crate that he could carry on his shoulder.

He turned back to the comm unit, and frowned slightly knowing full well that there was one thing that Kamal had said that Hazmat hadn't responded to... his comment about the Zeta artillery unit being dissolved. If Kamal could feel Hazmat's field through the comm then he would've known that the large mech was starting to radiate his sorrow, guilt, and self-loathing over the fate of his unit. They all died because he made a bad call... and when only the commanding officer survives when an entire unit is annihilated then many would wonder if that Autobot should be allowed to command ever again. The fact that he had been placed in charge of a platoon after the Arc had left was because he was one of the few with experience as a commander "Though I wouldn't of used the term dissolved for 5567 Zeta. They died while fighting to protect their allies, and they kept going despite the battle being unwinnable. They died heroes. I'd appreciate it if you'd remember them as such." Hazmat stated flatly in a slightly angry tone, through the anger was directed at himself. It went unsaid that he shouldn't be thought as one.

He glanced over his shoulder again, his yellow optics locking onto the modified Energon filter when his audio pickups heard it beep, indicating that it was finished. "If you don't mind me asking... what is your current assignment Kamal?"

[Zercon]

Another pause, another delay. Despite the image that flickered on screen seeming to still be a live feed and not a static picture, the individual was not speaking nor interacting back with Hazmat with any haste. It was only after a minute or so, that his helm seemed to incline, rising up with a subtle tilt to indicate he was listening, long after Hazmat had stopped speaking. The delay between them appeared to be notable enough, and the Cybertronian took only a moment to hear what had to be said, before moving to give his reply.

"I believe we all have our own tales to share."

The voice declared in the same dry monotone, indifferent. To judge someone based on a few decisions they may or may not have made, would be in poor taste at this point in the war. It was fair to say they all had their own demons, and harbored their own regrets. Granted, if this self proclaimed 'Hazmat' individual had done something truly heinous, than other things would need to be considered.

"I am sorry to hear you are the only one present, but it makes the situation no less important."

After this was said, Kamal's forearm rose to reach onto the controls below the monitor, a few clicks ringing out that were not from the bad relay and poor transmission, but rather from typing. He worked quickly, slender fingers dancing over the system to compare what was sent to him, with his records and other data he had collected over time. It was while he was doing this, that Hazmat's second statement reached him, and he paused in his work to glance back at the monitor, the green streaks appearing again to break up the screen. He spoke a bit slower then, trying to be tasteful considering the subject matter.

"Apologies. I only have rough data and did not know details."

Kamal seemed to ignore Hazmat's second request though, going back to the task at hand with some more typing and comparisons, before he clicked submit one final time and eased back in his chair. Delicately, what could be seen of his hands rose up, and laced together, regarding what was now displayed to him over the screen.

He knew of the faction swap instantly, and had to consider this bit of information with care. This was someone that at one point in time held a weapon to help the Decepticon cause, but... did that mean that he believed in it or did it mean he was simply using it as a means of survival? If he was looking to join whatever team was 'winning' at the time, he probably would have stayed Con, which meant this change had to be one of morals and not convenience, which was something Kamal could appreciate.

"Looks like everything checks out."

A different tone than before. While still robotic in nature, the pitch rose up and a few inflections actually flowed into the words, sounding a bit livelier and more like a real individual. While no smile could be seen through the broken up screen, it could almost be heard in his voice, Kamal feeling a bit more willing to divulge information.

"Before civil unrest and war, ESS Comet served as an exploratory vessel to reach to the furthest corners of our known sector, and surpass. It now serves varying roles during the War, but most recent is as a shuttle to all Autobots that can make their way to its orbital location. I see we have reached contact through a Bridge, which is fortuitous for you."

A hand unlaced to type a couple more things. In a minute or so, Hazmat would receive the current orbital coordinates of the spaceship, its presence currently looming over Polyhex in orbit.

"I do not know how secure this line is however, so if you have enough fuel, I would appreciate you bridging to my location with due haste, so I can vacate before drawing unwanted attention from scavengers."

[Deleted]

Once again Hazmat had nothing but static and a very fuzzy screen, but at least this time he knew for a fact that the receiver could hear him. Crossing his thick arms over his broad chest, Hazmat started to drum the digits of his servos on forearms resulting in a clacking sound. It was a habit he had developed during his early vorns and did it every single time he was in deep thought or recalling a memory. In this case he was thinking of Kamal's response to Hazmat saying that he had a colorful history. Maybe I should've just admitted that I'm a insignia switcher and be done with it instead of letting him find out on his own. Hazmat thought as he pulled in air through his multiple filters before blowing it out in a small sigh. However he only said "Maybe we can swap stories then."

Hazmat only nodded at Kamal's second comment, since he didn't see any reason to reply to it. Of course finding a survivor on Cybertron was important, and why wouldn't it be? With how many had died and no way to create more Cybertronians with the AllSpark who-knows-where, finding any living Cybertronian was a miracle. However when Kamal admitted that he didn't have much info on the Zeta Artillery Unit Hazmat only hug his head, closed his yellow optics, allowed his arms to hang loosely by his sides as his field started to radiate his sorrow over the loss of his entire unit. "Not many would know. The 5567 Zeta was lost a mere moment before the Arc launched. Considering all the activity that was happening at the time I'm not surprised that the messages about those bots going down were missed. Sorry if I got a little riled up about it." Hazmat stated in a solemn tone as he attempted to get control of his field.

During the next passing few moments that it was taking for Kamal to check out Hazmat's history the custodian bot had limped back towards the table to grab the jar of filtered Energon, his large feet making a clucking nose as he did so with the occasional high pitch scrape coming from the foot he couldn't walk on properly. Reaching out with large 4 digit servos Hazmat grabbed the cylinder of filtered Energon, carefully gave it a twist which was rewarded with a small click of the cylinder unlocking from the filtering machine, and he pulled it out so he could carry it back to the ground bridge. All the contaminates that had been in the Energon were now in a small case on the back of the processor. He was either going to place the Energon into the ground bridge to help power it or he would drink it if this Kamal refused to offered him aid. There would be no point in begging Kamal to take him if the mech chose to not to... Hazmat had nothing of value to offer him.

However Hazmat's fears proved themselves to be false as Kamal told him that his identification codes not only checked out but the mech also revealed the purpose of the ESS Comet when it was first built. "An exploration vessel? Impressive, though it's most likely safe to assume that room aboard your vessel is limited. However if you're shuttling Autobots you must have a destination for them." Hazmat stated, knowing full well that he was a rather massive mech and if Kamal got lucky and found another 'bot while he had Hazmat aboard then there would have to be room for that bot... And any extra gear brought along might prevent that. Hazmat would have to restrict what he brought along to his subspace, his compartments, and maybe a hand held item or two. Still he couldn't help but smile. "Fortunate indeed! As for this line it might be safe to assume that it isn't secure at all. I'm gonna grab what little equipment I think is most valuable and then bridge over. Stand by."

As he said this Hazmat was plugging the cylinder of Energon into the ground bridge to give it a little extra juice. He then turned around and began to limp towards the table that sat in the middle of the room. Sitting on top of it were a few more medical tools such as a pair of clippers meant to cut an Energon or hydraulic line while inducing a stopper to prevent leaks. It was an old tool that was getting phased out for better tools around half way in the caste era but it still worked and it got the job done. After depositing that tool into his subspace he grabbed another tool that was meant to slide a new piece of line into place, remove the stoppers, and graft the new piece of line into the currently existing lines. The custodian mech put that tool into his subspace as well, along with the remaining lines he could see that were still good. With his current injury he would need these tools to give himself a working patch. If Kamal hadn't arrived he would've been half way done with the patch by now. Glancing around Hazmat spotted grabbed a Cybertronian sized flashlight and stored that in his subspace as well, then was quickly greeted by a warning on his HUD that his subspace was full. He wasn't carrying anything else that way, so now he was going to have to use his servos and legs compartments now. However his leg compartments were spoken for. Hazmat took a few steps to his right as the compartments on the outside of his upper legs. They didn't extend too far into his legs, but they were well insulated with his hazmat armor. When he reached the end of the table he was looking down at several cylinders that will full of the ingredients for the chemicals that Hazmat used for his decontamination emitters. While the cylinders that were on the table were just typical Energon cylinders and were breakable, he could flat out drink the stuff and be fine so he wasn't worried for his safety. However if the cylinders broke then he would be cleaning his compartments for a vorn or two, and he wouldn't have the ability to make more of his chemicals for his tanks which would mean no decontaminating if he ran into something bad. However it would take quite a bit to break the cylinders so he was willing to risk it. So, he grabbed the cylinders of ingredients and started to load them into the compartments on his legs, using the clamps that were once used to hold his weapons in place to hold the cylinders.

With that done and his leg compartments closed, Hazmat's yellow optics settled on the modified Energon processor, considering if he wanted to grab it. It would be a good idea to grab it since it could process Energon normally simply by removing the filter assembly Hazmat had built for it. He wasn't sure where he would end up once he got aboard the Comet, but the filtering processor would come in handy since it could make spilled Energon reusable. With that in mind he grabbed it before turning on his good heel and limped back over to the ground bridge. "Alright, all set here. Preparing ground bridge. I'm going to have it turn off the instant I've crossed over so nothing can follow." the custodian spoke as he checked the cylinder that he had plugged into the bridge. It was empty, so the bridge had it all. After entering the provided location of the Comet into the ground bridge Hazmat's free four digit servo grabbed the control arm for the bridge. "Kamal, I'm activating the ground bridge. See you in a few." he said as he pulled down the lever to activate the bridge. He looked up at the ground bridge as the several large rings that generated the bridge glowed to life, faded slightly from a lack of Energon to power them, then glowed back to life as the swirling green tunnel materialized. It was quite a stretch for the bridge but it made the distance. With a nod, Hazmat gripped the processor in his hand and started to limb towards the bridge and entered it.

The ground bridge opened up on the Comet, swirling as it did but it seemed to be flickering since it was working with very little Energon. At first the only thing Kamal would be able to see and hear would be the ground bridge, but then the sounds of Hazmat's foot falls could be heard. It was a heavy clunk, clunk, clunk that sounded like it belonged to someone that was even bigger then the Prime, and it a way they did since Hazmat had nearly 20% more mass then the Prime. Finally the black and bright green Autobot emerged from the ground bridge, stepping out of the swirling green portal just as it started to close from lack of Energon. He was still limping slightly and preferred to keep his weight on one leg but he was upright. "I feel like I owe you a favor Kamal. I never thought I'd ever get off Cybertron while I still functioned."

[Zercon]

The figure leaned back a bit when Hazmat suggested the ESS Comet was small, a little huff of a stifled laugh shifting out through the system that meshed in with the natural static and white noise. He only offered a soft mutter of words to follow, dismissive almost, spoken under his breath to a point it was near inaudible.

"Ah... you would be surprised..."

Kamal quickly moved on after this though, needing to cover things and prepare for the arrival of a new visitor. He also needed to be vigilant and continue to scan for Decepticon ships or shuttles that were in the area. While Cybertron was long dead, it didn't make it a safe place to be in any stretch of the word and to become complacent here could result in death.

While Hazmat prepared what he felt he needed to bring, Kamal simply waited and watched, stilling in place and becoming immobile within his chair again. He did not move or show any indication of life, until he relay from the larger Mech's words finally reached him, and he perked back to life once again.

"We will be relocating soon anyway, so if they do try to follow, they will find themselves deposited into a vacuum."

That was the last thing Kamal said, before the transmission went dark so that all remaining scraps of fuel could go towards the process of actually transporting the large individual up to such a remote region. Thankfully, it all appeared to work just as hoped, and the coordinates would place him exactly where he needed to go. However, Hazmat's words that were meant to fall upon the audials of another Mech that was stationed to greet him, instead filtered out into an empty yawning expanse of a room that dwarfed even him.

Industrial.

Black iron.

Immense beams and structures.

The room Hazmat stepped into was yawning and large, a hanger that seemed to also be part mechanics shop due to the notable pits and holes in key places to allow a shuttle to be parked over it and serviced. The Cybertronian's voice would echo and bounce around the cool metal surfaces, making him seem that much smaller and more alone within the structure. Built for smaller spacecrafts and shuttles, there were plenty of other hangers of great warships that dwarfed what was here, but it didn't make this one any less impressive.

Sheet metal plates could be seen on the far walls that stapled over a few wounds on the smooth surfaces, while immense beams of Cybertronian metal hooked up to frame the rooms outline like the ribs of a great skeletal structure. Tracks were mounted along the ceiling for large robotic limbs to hang down from and maneuver, there being a plethora of varying tools and devices. Some of the smaller limbs appeared to be tangled in wires, while others wore grit and scraps of mesh cloth and tarps that were long since torn and ripped from the arm's movements. The primary mechanics of the assembly appeared to be a large set of hydraulic lifts that held clamps at their end to grasp and maneuver shuttles within the cargo bay itself. The reason for this would become readily apparent, due to the floor mounted hanger doors that were directly below the assembly.

Heavy plates folding over one another like an armadillo's shell, it created a safe seal to separate the inhabitants of the ship from the hollow void of space. But while the entire system appeared to derelict, it still had streaks of clean metal where things had moved and brushed its surface during use. A few scraps and scratches gored into the edges of the hanger doors, where objects may have been sucked out through decompression, this further evident in the way some of the safety railings were broken and bent inward towards the opening.

Inbuilt lighting for the hanger was turned off, leaving plates of glass that reflected what little lights could be found in the form of hanging bulbs and LED fixtures that seemed added after the fact. They were wired into torn open portions from the walls, a couple sparks flicking out on occasion as the bulbs warmed up to active use for its guest. It was this that would reveal a shuttle sitting past the hanger doors far from Hazmat, it being a Decepticon escape pod.

The pod's painted on emblem was gored and clawed into, but still discernible in the darkness, purple stained metals dulled with a coating of dust thick enough to draw on with ease. The shuttle was effectively useless, its side ripped open with entrails of its mechanics and parts hanging out and scavenged.

Hazmat would be left for only a moment to piece together what he was seeing, before small LED's flickered and lit up beneath him on the outer perimeter of the paths, lining a thin trail of emergency lighting. The small red lights made a line that lead to the far wall, where a door spiraled open, creaking in protest. To pair with this, the speakers in the hanger fizzled to life, and the same voice from before spoke.

"Everyone pays their toll in one way or another. Some by fuel, some my mechanic expertise, some just by offering the company of another. Granted... as lovely as that last one is, I think I require the prior two a bit more."

The hallway leading out of the hanger was dark, there only a few lights along its corridor that would keep the journey from being a blind one.

"If you wish to leave your burdens in the hanger, you may."

Punctuating his words, a deep rumble rolled through the entire ship, a distant hum of low frequency sounds and subtle vibrations making its way over the vessel. It appeared the engine was roaring to life, and that Kamal was not kidding when he said he intended to get moving from the location as soon as possible to avoid someone undesirable from Bridging on board.

[Deleted]

As soon as Hazmat stepped through the Ground Bridge and saw that he was alone is a very spacious cargo hold, he groaned while he lifted his empty servo up to his helm which connected with the brow of his face plate with a clang... which was followed by him sliding that servo down the front of his face plate, down across his closed yellow optics and mouth until his servo reached his chin. It was only then he allowed his servo to fall back to his side. "Surprised indeed. I could've brought my artillery cart! The extra Energon I gave the Ground bridge would've allowed it to pass through!" the custodian mech muttered in annoyance, feeling really stupid for making an assumption of how large the vessel was going to be since he based it on the word 'shuttle' instead of 'exploration vessel,' despite the fact he had vocalized he opinion while using the word 'exploration.' He could've brought not only the artillery cart but he could've loaded it up with most of the other tools and equipment he had at his base. Talk about foolish on his part! No point in dwelling on it now though.

As he started to walk, or rather limp, through the storage room his optics took in his surroundings and his brow furrowed. This ship had seen far better days but it was clearly still functional enough to be space worthy. All things considered he should be grateful but still the ship could use some work. Seeing the sparking wires made think of how Shale would react to this... She would've either groaned in annoyance or be glad for the work. It reminded him of a time when he had watched Shale do some minor repairs on one of the cargo carts he had been hauling one day long before the war had started. He had hit a slick patch of good lubricant that caused him to skid sideways and nearly flip his carts. The good part was that Shale had been nearby and helped him repair the carts before he resumed his trip. They had only been friends back then. Thinking of Shale made Hazmat look down at the deck plates as sorrow started to fill his field. Last time he saw her they had parted in anger and had considered ending their relationship, but now he was worried over her. Did she still live or had she died during the war? Had she gotten off of Cybertron or was she still there and in need of rescue? Was she still mad at him as well or had she forgiven him? He had many more questions about her and no answers at all. Shaking his head Hazmat tried to think of something else since thinking about Shale was only getting him depressed. Glancing around his optics settled on the dilapidated piece of equipment that seemed to have been gutted and stripped of any useful parts and then some. On the side of the ripped up hunk of junk was a scorched and shredded symbol with a purple hue, and it didn't take the former 'Con long to identify the ruined symbol and realize he was looking at an escape pod. The old 'Con in Hazmat would've wanted to go find out who had been the pod, but that part of him died a long time ago. Now he didn't care.

Before Hazmat could think about the side of the hanger where the large doors were located the emergency lights under his pedes lit up, drawing his optics downwards and then his gaze followed them to the hatch that had irised opened. He took one step towards the hatch, the hydraulics in his ankle whined in response, before glancing up at the ceiling in an effort to see where the speakers were located. So he was going to have pay Kamal for the transport off of Cybertron and to... where ever. However there lay the problem; he had nothing with which to pay the Autobot back. Maybe the medical equipment he had in his subspace but that was about it. He doubted that this Kamal would take a mixture of his hazardous containment chemicals, even with how rare they were these vorns. As for the modified Energon processor? What use would Kamal have for that? This ship had to have a functional Energon processor that was much larger then that portable one that has the removable modifications, even with how beat up the Comet looked. However all things considered he could let go of most of it. Hazmat was capable of making more of his hazardous containment chemicals without the ingredients he was currently carrying but it would cost him Energon to do so, so losing the ingredients would hurt but it wouldn't be irreplaceable. The lost of the modified Energon processor wouldn't be too bad if there was some other way to process Energon where ever he would end up, but making a duplicate of the filter modification would be impossible without the help of a medic to remove one of his own hazardous armor's filters since the current modification used a hazardous armor filter Hazmat had 'acquired' from the husk of a deceased custodial mech. However the medical tools were irreplaceable so Hazmat really hoped that Kamal didn't take those.

Speaking of medical tools a new readout appeared on Hazmat's HUD as he started to limp over to a crate to put down all of the stuff he was carrying. It was a the result of a routine diagnostic that his hazardous armor had just completed on him. It showed most of the usual stuff that Hazmat had been suffering from for the last several thousand deca-cycles: his filters needed to be replaced and not just cleaned, he was low on Energon, his subspace was full, the list went on. One readout caught his attention though; the status of his damaged ankle. The flow of hydrolic fluid had increased slightly, revealing that his automatic repair systems were able to handle the damaged line. In about a joor his ankle should be working as if there hadn't been any damage at all. This was a relief for the Autobot as he started to put down the Energon processor, removing several medical tools such as a frame welder from his subspace and a several small containment units he used for cleaning up hazardous materials, though he kept a couple just to be safe even though it was those containers that took up most of his subspace, and then he started to remove the chemicals from his leg compartments. However when he got to the last container he stopped when he realized it wasn't a chemical cylinder, but rather a jar of rust sticks that was still sealed. With a shrug Hazmat chose to keep that with him so he could offer a couple to Kamal. Why not? No way would those treats act as a fair payment but it would be a kind gesture on Hazmat's part. Unloaded of his burdens Hazmat began his limb towards the open door, and he was slightly happy to notice that indeed his injured limb could handle his weight a little bit better. Still though it did take him a little while to enter the hallway that the spiraling door led to. He might of b

After limping down the hallway a little ways, his yellow optics taking in every detail of the old vessel he was on, making notes of the ship's condition and started to wonder if he could repay Kamal with his actions instead of physical possessions. A space ship did produce waste after all, and sometimes that waste was hazardous. Did Kamal have a way to remove that hazardous waste? If not then Hazmat could give the ship a full decontamination scrub as payment. He was equipped to enter areas that most Cybertronians couldn't handle. Only one way to find out... but first he had a question that he thought out loud in case Kamal could hear him.

"So... what's our destination?"

[Zercon]

When Hazmat spoke about wishing he had realized the ship was larger so he could bring more, Kamal softly chuckled, the sound faint and almost like static through the speakers.

"Ah, don't want to risk overloading the Ground Bridge. I'd rather have just you, instead of some artillery and half of you."

If the bridge was in such bad shape that the connection wouldn't even work fully when they conversed, and if there had been so little fuel left to just barely get Hazmat here, Kamal felt it was a safe assumption that trying to push ones luck could end poorly. He didn't want to have to try to dispose of a partial corpse. Granted... he could just open the hanger doors and let the unrelenting vacuum of space suck him out... but alas... he would watch the mech's progress to the hallway.

Looking up, the speakers weren't really that special and were mostly blended into the architecture. It was only because Hazmat was looking for them, that he would see the subtle vents. Beside them however, he would also see security cameras. Like much of the ship, they seemed worn down and old, but were still functional, a smooth rounded casing attached to a pivot that allowed it to be maneuvered into the angle the user wanted. A tiny light was active in a ring around the lens, indicating the fact it was active. Granted, this would be obvious even without said light, for the cameras moved while Hazmat did, trailing his actions with unrelenting focus.

The hallway was simple, though poorly lit. Patches were near black in shadow, while others were proudly illuminated with the few bulbs that remained functional. From what could be seen, the ship used to be good, and if given a heaping dose of love, care, and basic supplies, it probably could be again someday, but as it stood it was rotted, and decayed.

Multiple doors were lined on either side of the path, some having signs and numbers attached to them, while others were left barren. The ones that were labeled were simple though, contents like a storage room, or a small workshop. About part way down the hallway however, there seemed to be a map secured to the left side. It was metal, painted with engraving that nicely depicted the ships interior and where things were located. It was easy to see then that the hanger took up an absolutely immense portion of the ship, and the next largest portion was mostly personal quarters. There was a medical bay, a gathering room, and some other utility rooms as well, but that was to be expected of a vessel of this scale.

Hazmat would be able to see from the map, that if he followed this hallway straight ((as the lighting indicated)) he would reach the Control Room in short time.

"A modest and rather small planet the natives dubbed Earth, which is unfortunate."

Earth... Such a sad name for such a sad planet. They basically just called themselves the equivalent of mud, or dirt. It made the filthy little organic pit seem that much less desirable a location, and that much less intelligent than it has seemingly become. It didn’t matter that the human population had grown to make their own technology, and launch their own satellites and modest space crafts, the point was they had a silly name.

"It is the new battleground for the ongoing war we have found ourselves looped within, due to stockpiles of Energon being hidden there at the onset of the War for safekeeping."

The ship rumbled lowly, the heavy bass of its boot-up fading out to a soft background noise as it stabilized.

"Optimus Prime himself is stationed there in a remote outpost that is always in need of help. They have a functional Ground Bridge, able to just barely reach the cargo bay of the Comet when I am on the right side of the planet."

[Deleted]

The instant that Hazmat's audio pickups detected Kamal's response the custodial mech couldn't help but crack a grin.  "Yeah, I guess you have a point.  Cleaning up Energon spilled from half an Autobot ain't fun." he responded in a deadpan tone, clearly meant to be sarcastic.  In truth Hazmat had to do that a couple of times and every time it wasn't a pleasant experience... and the last time he had to do that he actually filtered the Energon a couple times so it would be safe for him to consume it.  He felt sick to his chassis for nearly a vorn afterwards but he had to survive somehow.  However another reason why he really shouldn't of tried to bring his turret cart with him through the ground bridge was because there wasn't anyway to power the thing.  He didn't have any Energon to spare for it, and he doubted Kamal had any either.  Because of this it was best that the turret cart was left behind... however Hazmat was wondering if he should've disabled it so it couldn't be used again.

With a shake of his helm to get those thoughts out of his processor, Hazmat continued to walk down the hallways of the Comet.  He really had to stop letting himself get distracted by the what ifs and focus on what was in front of optics... of what little he could see that is.  The lighting in the hallways wasn't that great despite there were parts that were fairly well illuminated.  With a small frown Hazmat activated the large single headlamp that was mounted in the center of his chest.  ((though it would become a small row of lights when he got his new vehicular form)).  The single light brightly illuminated the shadows of the hallways so the former 'Con could clearly make out the areas of the halls that were in even more desperate need of repairs.  However when Hazmat noticed the map the mech gave it his full attention to commit it to memory since there was no telling how long he was going to be here.

"Earth?  You serious right now?  The natives named their planet after the rocks they walk on?  That's like if we named our planet Metal or Alloy." Hazmat commented as he glanced upwards at camera in the hallway that his headlamp was illuminating, then he let the protective shutters of his optics close halfway which was his equivalent of narrowing his eyes.  Talk about lack of imagination!  The large mech sighed out of his vents as he shook his vents and wondered what type of creatures these natives were.  Were they similar to the Cybetronians or were they like their planet and made of rock?  It would be interesting if they were made of rock, that was for sure.  Hearing that the war was continuing there because of the Energon stores that had been placed there only made Hazmat nod at first... but what Kamal said after that made the large black and green mech come to a stop as his optics went wide.

"Wha-what?  Optimus Prime?  He's alive and on Earth?" Hazmat exclaimed as he placed a servo onto his helm's brow plate, his field flooded with surprise and relief.  If the last Prime was still alive then there was still a chance for the Autobots to win this war.  If Prime was alive then that meant the Arc had made it to Earth.  It was the only explanation since Hazmat knew that Prime was on board the Arc when it launched from Cybertron.  Now Hazmat had to hope that the war didn't destroy a second planet.  He quickly resumed his limping pace, which had improved a little bit more, and he soon reached the control room where he deactivated his chest mounted headlamp.  However before Hazmat could saying anything to Kamal he stopped and frowned as a rather disturbing thought entered his processor.  "Optimus might be looking for help where ever he can find it... but would he be willing to accept my aid if he knew about my past?" The question wasn't really directed at Kamal, but rather him thinking out loud.  However considering that he had to transmit his identification codes to Kamal it would be obvious that the mech would know about Hazmat's history with the 'Cons and thus might have an answer if he chose to give one.  Hazmat wasn't normally this depressed but having spent so much time without hope the very concept of it was foreign to him now, and depression had a way of worming it's way into the front of his processor as a result.

[Zercon]

Kamal had his own little theories and reasoning's to explain away the planet's name. Either they dubbed their planet Earth, and the word became a synonym to the dirt and ground they strode upon over time, or they were stupid. But hey, that was just his opinions. Either way, he was amused at this conversation despite how short it had lasted, the topic shifting to far more relevant and important matters, such as the presence of the Prime.

Optimus' name tended to get results. It was hard to say exactly what it was about that mech that made him such a shining beacon of hope for so many. Perhaps it is his actions, or the way he leads, or maybe it was really the Matrix he supposedly held within his frame. Whatever the case was, Cybertronian from all across the planet would rally under his call, and it seemed Hazmat was no different if Kamal read his shock and stance correctly. Alas, he was going to speak, only Hazmat then had another word to say, projecting his inner thoughts and concerns out.

"Do you even know who you are talking about?"

He started, a mild scolding tone in play.

"This is Optimus Prime we are speaking of-"

While this was said, Hazmat would see the end of the hallway, where an angular doorway would lead to the Control Room. The doorway seemed more ornate, armored, far more protective and large than the others he passed on his trek. It was this that would spiral out of the way, the seal hissing momentarily while the rooms equalized again.

The room was large.

As the Comet was built for exploration, the Control Room reflected this in full. The first thing Hazmat would likely notice, would be the near wall to wall windows. They arched across three of the four sides of the room, giving a broad panoramic view of what lay around them. Off to the left was open space, the crisp view of distant stars, and other planets that twinkled so very far away, while the right was clouded over by a view of Cybertron. Dull. Dead. Grey. Despite being so high, the planet still looked ravaged. Streaks and veins of red flickered in some areas, distant chemical fires that wound like infection, while gaping open wounds could be seen in the middle of cities where bombs had been detonated.

The rest of the room was open, many terminals and screens with chairs in front of them where navigators or scientists would sit and work on their maps and planning. A few maps scrolled about, some tools, all coated in a thin layer of dust. In the direct center of the room was a short cylinder platform, where projections and holoforms could be pulled up when they found anew planet. It was currently disabled however, allowing Hazmat to see past it to the captain's chair.

Kamal was thin, clad in dulled armor that appealed to be white with a few varying shades of grey. He was not plated like a fighter, that much was apparent near instantly in the way his shoulders were capped in delicate smooth rounded pieces, and his body held no visible reinforcement. Raw protoform was even exposed in areas; the thin pieces of metal barely covering over internal organs like a sheath to keep them clean of debris.

While a Cybertronian can't really look emaciated, not losing weight like an organic individual, he somehow still managed to look the part. Spindly arms and legs, large voids in broader sections like his lower legs, but most of all it was how his abdominal portion that normally would hold many internal organs for his frame, appeared sunken and hollow.

Hanging out of his back, and connected to his sides were many dark grey cables that branched away from his body, and fed into the floor below, while a good few instead flowed up into the ceiling above. They wove and tangled together like inert serpents, a few holding small bio-lights that signified a current was running through them at present. These same small green lights appeared on the Cybertronian himself, a few etched décor just above his knees, while joints had tiny rings of the fluorescent green. This same tone was also represented upon his face, or rather, lack of.

Where a Cybertronian's face should lay at rest, instead there was a boxy helm with a single vertical bar of light that represented an eye. This faceless visage was framed on either side by a set of finials, but otherwise remained plain and simple. It looked over at Hazmat intently, seeing to watch him carefully as he spoke again, the voice half coming from the speakers, half projected from the individual.

"-Besides, if the Autobots never forgave, and expected perfection, they would have been wiped clean off Cybertron ages ago."

[Deleted]

Kamal's words stung Hazmat when he said them, though in truth they really shouldn't of affected the custodian mech to such a degree. Maybe bring Hazmat to his senses perhaps or make him a little embarrassed, but hurt? No, and Hazmat realized it so instead of saying anything he simply nodded in understanding and remained silent as he considered the possibility that being alone ruined his processor.  He had seen time and again that when custodial mechs and femmes had to go on long solo missions into the depths of Cybertron that when they came back they were always a little screwed up when they came back.  Depending on the mission they were on they could be a little bit more or a little bit less fragmented in the processor, especially when it came to missions that were disturbing such as placing scraplet traps.  Those missions gave even Hazmat the shakes... though at least he knew how to handle the little buggers.  Finally the large mech turned his attention back to the vessel's captain.

"You have a point. Several of them in fact. Never had the honor meeting Optimus but his reputation proceeds him. Besides if we lacked mercy then there wouldn't be a difference between Autobots and Decepticons.  I think it's safe to say that being on Cybertron alone for so long has screwed up my processor." Hazmat admitted with a sigh through his vents as he shook his helm. He then made his way over to Kamal being sure to watch his step so he didn't touch any of the cables attached to the acting captain. Whole ship looked like it was coming apart, why not the cables too?

Still...

"At least tell me that the natives of this Earth call themselves Earthians because it would make more sense if they named their planet after themselves. That or named themselves after their planet." Hazmat said with a frown but his field gave away the fact that it was meant as a joke. "And is there anything I should know about this Earth before I arrive?"

[Zercon]

"Humans I think, or Earthlings seem to be the common word, but I think that is more us applying to them..."

Kamal then lifted his spindly arms, his fingers flaring out as if cupping around an invisible orb that was nestled so delicately between his palms. The camera of his helm crooked down a bit to look at this, indicating a small sphere with the gesture, that when paired with the conversation was easy to interoperate as a tiny world.

"They don't know of other species or worlds, this an itty bitty new species, equal parts clever and idiotic from what I see."

He let his arms drape back at his sides then, his fingers and wrists hanging gingerly off the front of the worn arm rests. He settled back then as well, keeping his attention on the stranger that was approaching near with some apprehension. He knew they were an Autobot, and he knew they probably had good intentions, but war was brutal, war was a sliding bar, and for all he knew Hazmat was just getting near to try to harm him. Of course this fear wasn't enough to hinder him in any way, he trusted the stranger to not snap his neck upon getting close, which is why he hadn't made any moves against him, nor locked the door so he couldn't enter the Control room to begin with.

"I have not returned for months, but last I heard some of the humans were capturing our kind for experimentation. They had acquired a Decepticon to rend asunder..."

Perhaps there was a mild bit of glee mixed in with the grim news, his tone a confusing mess of 'serves them right' and 'nobody deserves such a fate'. It was a very grey line where he didn’t feel strongly one way or the other. He would probably adjust his emotions and reactions in accordance to his company, thriving and striving for interaction more so than being on the opposite side of a heated debate that could lose him the company of conversation.

"Majority do not know of us however. Optimus strives to keep it that way, using our alternative forms to blend in with their native transportation and shuttles. You will be a big'un, probably don't have many options available to you."

Said matter of fact, Kamal didn't actually know much about Earth vehicles. All he knew was most were within a certain size range, that far breached what Hazmat held. It wasn't a subject the captain ever really needed to ask about either, since if he went to the planet... well... he'd be just stuck somewhere grounded and useless. He had no ability to transform.

"There were rumors of Megatron getting Dark Energon though... which is an entire other big bag of trouble and who knows what..."

Flicking his hand in the air, Kamal brushed that subject aside with sarcasm and skepticism. He didn't know if he himself believed in what was told to him, for Dark Energon was such a mythical thing, it was like telling someone they found one of the 13 on Earth waiting for them. It was like a human finding a unicorn or other tall tale. He obviously didn't seem to buy it, if his tone said anything.

[Deleted]

Upon hearing the name of the race that lives on Earth, Hazmat cocked a brow plate and repeated the name, as if he was testing the word. "Hue-min... Human... well it kinda rolls off the vocabulator but meh. How small are we talking here anyway? Minicon small or scraplet small?" Hazmat asked, but as Kamal continued Hazmat started to get the feeling he was standing too close so he took a half a step back away from the wired up Autobot so he wasn't crowding the mech.

That was when Hazmat's optics went wide, his brow plates went up, and his jaw dropped. "Uh... What did you say? I think my audio pick ups might be damaged. Did you say that these creatures are so ignorant that Optimus is able to conceal us by having us shift our vehicular forms? That's... I'm not even sure what word to describe that with. We leave massive pede prints, when we battle we're really loud, and our guns fire brightly illuminated projectiles. And the majority of them don't even know about us? How did they manage to get a hold of that one 'Con?? Luck on the humans' part or incompetence on the side of the 'Con??" Hazmat exclaimed in surprise. If he knew just how resourceful and intelligent humans were he wouldn't be saying that, but for now it just seemed unbelievable.

When Kamal changed the topic to Megatron getting a hold of dark enegon though, Hazmat frowned. "Dark Energon? If thats the stuff that turns a dead Cybertronian into a walking corpse then I can confirm that rumor as fact. Not too long ago almost every single gun metal gray mech and femme on the surface of Cybertron suddenly came back to life with a purple glow in their optics. Then they all just fly up into space even though most of them were grounders. Almost none of them come back down, save for a few dozen. I ended up breaking my shot cannon and steam hammer beyond repair fighting them off... And it was like fighting giant scraplets instead of intelligent Cybertronians." Hazmat admitted and visibility shuttered at the memory... And also informed Kamal that the big green and black mech was in fact unarmed now. If the pilot believed Hazmat or not was up to him though.

Wanting to truly change the topic now, Hazmat asked Kamal an important question. "By the way you said that everyone helps out one way or another. Off the top of your helm can you think of anything that you'll need a toxicologist or a hazmat mech?" The mech was hoping to use his old skills he was made for again, though he'd do anything that Kamal needed.

[Zercon]

As Hazmat asked about how large the humans were, Kamal held up his hands in front of himself. One palm facing down, cupped over the imaginary 'head' of a human, the other facing up as a 'platform'. He used this visual guide to show an estimation of how large the inhabitants were, but as before, it was all guess work. He had never seen one himself, and only got a rough description of them from the Autobot he spoke with. This made his estimation a poor one, guessing they were a bit smaller than they actually were by a few feet on average. Then again, it doesn't help he was being told about one of the children, which meant he wasn't getting an idea of how large the full adult version of the species got to begin with. So his information was... wrong... but he had no clue.

"The organics rely heavily on mechanical transportation due to their small stature and spread out environment. They seem to want to build out, not up... a colossal waste of space but hey, who am I to judge?"

Shrugging smooth shoulder plates up, Kamal rolled them back in their joints after, relaxing down further into his seat. While he didn't try to show it ((so he didn't offend the other mech)) he was grateful for getting some of his personal space back. He wouldn't mind the other individual drawing near in the future, but he wanted to be certain of intentions first.

"Point is, you can take the form of their transportation devices, which they have in abundance from what I am told. That and much of their planet is uninhabited. At night you can see large swaths of land masses paved in darkness... pretty..."

The subject shifted then, focusing down upon the Dark Energon that was born of myth and legend, except it seemed that Hazmat had witnessed some sort of phenomenon himself. While the large mech spoke, the small captain eased upright a bit, with his helm crooked at a minor angle, displaying confusion and uncertainty at what he was hearing. It went so far that the tiny finials on each side would flick, twitching slightly to listen to the words that were being told.

This was an odd occurrence, and seemed to speak against many lines of logic. It brought up more questions than answers, and challenged the captain on what he thought he knew. On one hand some sort of horrible thing happened legitimately, spitting in the eye of what they knew and making an argument for a mythical substance, on the other?... Hazmat may be tired and war ragged... the mech may have imagined it. But he wouldn't call him out on that, nor question at this time, for it seemed the weary individual wanted to subject change, and Kamal was kind enough to allow it.

"The biggest help one can offer to my ship is repairs and cleaning."

He started, sounding almost sheepish about the request.

"As you see, I am bound to my station, and cannot leave it. The maintenance and loading dock arms in the hanger can only do so much, and the drones have long been inoperable. I don't know anything about my reactor, it thankfully has remained operable and all appears well from security cameras... but something to help the rest of the ship is needed."

Almost meekly, Kamal slid one hand over the other in a gradual writhing motion, feeling some shame in the fact he cannot even maintain his own ship.