[ti]Ep 2.5[/ti]Water Damage [Open]

[Sparkplug]

For just a moment, Sparkplug stared at the pods, aghast that neither of them were reacting to their activation controls. Then, just as she turned her helm towards the other pods she'd initially rejected, the doors swung open, coming within millimetres of smacking her. Jerking backwards, startled, she yelped, "Unicron's toes!" as the impact splashed salt water over her sleek white chassis, gleaming in the light pouring out of the pods.

Taking a deep vent of the slightly stale air, Sparkplug slowed the racing of her fuel pump with an effort of will, and drew closer to the pods. "Well, I'll be a tin-plated turbofox," she murmured to herself. "Looks like these are in fine shape after all. Guess the stampede went to the other bank." Leaning cautiously through the opening, she stared at the controls thoughtfully. Looked like it wouldn't be too hard to handle, although it was going to be a bit of a pain to try to clamber up and strap herself in upside down.

Immensely reassured, Sparkplug focused her attention on the welding. It was more of a gesture of goodwill than anything, but it kept her hands occupied and gave her something to focus on, which was rather more important than singlehandedly trying to fix the derelict. Though it seemed an age, her internal chronometer told her it wasn't actually all that long before the two vehicons arrived.

She certainly shared John's enthusiasm for getting out of there, and she nodded in agreement to his question. Reggie's caution wasn't totally unwarranted, though. "Yeah, looks like we're good to get out of here. Honestly, I can't get you up to the ceiling to strap you in, so what we'll have to do is just get you in reach of some decent handholds, rig up whatever straps we can manage, and you're going to have to grab on like an industrial clamp, right? It's going to be a bumpy ride, and you don't really need more limb damage."

Stepping carefully into the nearest of the two pods, Sparkplug peered out of the little viewports, checking for any immediate obstacles outside that might hinder the launch. "Squeeze on in here. We'll get you strapped to the wall real quick. It's not as good as a padded chair, but unless Reggie there is stronger than he looks, neither of us can lift you right above our heads." Reaching up with her elongated arm, she flicked out a sawblade and began carefully severing a harness from one of the seats above. It didn't take a moment to sever a complicated tangle of webbing, with a centre buckle.

"Right, then. Reggie, if you wouldn't mind tying this off to whatever loops and mounting points you can find, we can get this party underway. Offer to come with us still valid!" Handing over the webbing, she turned back to the front of the pod and reached up again, gripping with both hands and beginning to scrabble upwards. It wasn't particularly fun to get herself perched into a seat upside down, but there were plenty of handholds.

Trying to ignore the dizzy feeling of being suspended the wrong way up, she touched a few controls. She wasn't a pilot, but this thing was built to be used by panicked, fleeing soldiers with no special training; how hard could it be to set it to get out of the water?

[Zercon]

Reggie walked forward once John was safely on the ground, starting to ease him up atop the down-swung door, and walk him over the roof into the pod. If they had plenty of time, and Sparkplug was going to help, they may have been able to finagle something with John to get him into the seat properly. Make John grip the support bars, push his aft and legs up the wall until he pivoted upside down... strap the buckle over his legs and ratchet it to pull him up... it was all ok in concept, but it wasn't something Reggie really cared to bother with.

With a shove, the Vehicon pushed his injured counterpart up against the wall, knotting off the offered strap to one wall mounted handle, before he looped it in front of John and pulled hard to snap him up against the wall, buckling it down. John meanwhile, seemed to be getting concerned again, arms rising up as he was strapped in place, before he reached up and nervously grabbed onto the belt up above his head on the chair over him.

"Uhh... is it too late to consider the bubble bag ride?"

He offered meekly, clawed talons wrapping around the strap to try to get a better handhold and strengthen his precarious posture.

"Yup. Have a good flight."

Was that a bit of humor on Reggie's voice!?

The more serious Vehicon reached forward and patted John on the shoulder while he said this, almost thrilled to get rid of the mech and get him off his back ((in more ways than one)). While the injured trooper sulked over this revelation, Reggie turned back to Sparkplug, his posture seeming to relax as he thought over her offer a bit more seriously than he had before.

"As enticing as it is, I have things to tend to. The other pod seems functional still, so I will have my own exit."

He stepped outside while he said this, loosely hopping off of the door with a splash as his peds cut into the slowly rising salt water.

"You should be able to find others once out, I can't imagine everyone has ran off by now."

Assurances, helm crooking up in a more lighthearted tone. Reggie causally pulled the rifle back in front of him, falling into a more formal posture like he was a soldier awaiting a direct order.

"Be safe."

The Life Pod rumbled to life as Sparkplug poked at the controls, the display screen illuminating instantly with a few flight options to choose from, and a large launch button. It really could not be more straightforward all things considered. The only issue was the attempted courses of action. A few topographical relays were trying to map out possible flights, but were coming into issues with the fact they were upside down surrounded by water. Some of the dotted lines projected, seemed to look like it would 'safely' land them a few miles deeper at sea, while one very confused one would slam dunk them right into the sea floor, an Error appearing over the selection. There were a couple that looked to head towards shore, but that could change as they went through the water instead of space or atmosphere. The map also showed a few gray lines of other shuttles that had already been launched with their timestamps, to help navigate and keep a swarm of individuals from colliding with one another.

She need only choose, and launch.

[Sparkplug]

Good grief, Reggie was capable of finding something funny.

The realisation that he was about to get rid of both of them seemed to have perked up the rather surly mech, and his change in tone drew Sparkplug around in her seat, giving him a brisk wave. "Stay safe yourself! No swimming, it's bad for you."

Tapping a button, the large hatch hummed closed behind her, and she sighed in relief as the airtight seal thudded into place, cutting off the creaking and groaning of the dying vessel. Focusing on the controls, she scrolled through the different flight path options, with a cautious optic on the paths taken by previous evacuees. It was still urgent that they leave, but with the pod sealed and the ship behind them, her twanging anxiety had diminished enough that she could take the time to pick the most optimum escape route.

"You alright back there, John?" she asked over her shoulder, without looking around. Whatever course she selected, things were going to get bumpy, but she'd done all she could for the mech. Now it was time to just get him onto dry land, and ideally, into some other mecha's hands. She could probably do something for the damaged leg with time and spare parts, but she wasn't a doctor, not even a field medic, and it would be a brave or desperate mech that submitted themselves to her care on a deserted beach.

"Okay. Got a couple of landward courses. One seems to have had more escape-traffic than the other, so we'll go with that one. Better chance of meeting up with the other forces and getting you some help." You know, some competent help. "Best you hang on tight, now, and brace yourself. You feeling close to Primus? Well, concentrate on that. You know, emotionally. The kind of close to Primus that means that he'll keep a friendly, moon-sized optic on you, rather than the kind where your spark drifts off to say hello in person. Don't get that close. Beseech his help, but gently remind him that you still need personal space, that's the ticket."

As she talked, her slim fingers moved over the controls, nudging the course slightly. If the pod went badly off-course as it plunged through the water, she'd have to correct fast. "Oh, and, uh - launching. Three. Two. One." Flicking up the protective cover, her finger hit the big red button.

[Zercon]

"I mean, I guess, but this doesn't really feel safe you know?"

The Vehicon said warily, hanging onto the guard rails that hung above his head that were meant to sit on either side of an individual's hips. He was well aware that he was cobbled into position, and that it meant there was a rather reasonable chance that he would be knocked around like a ragdoll the second they were evicted from the Nemesis' latches that held onto the ship. This thought was bad enough on its own, but Spark's following words seemed to tick something over in John's processor, all the talk about Primus making him realize that death could very well happen the second they hit eject, and he wasn't keen on that.

Was it still too late for the bubble idea?

"Waitnow!-"

He started quickly, having some serious second thoughts, but it was way too late as Sparkplug had hit the launch button and the entire vessel surged forward violently with a heft. Instantaneously, John shrieked. It was not a manly scream, it was not just some fearful yell, it was instead a straight up shrill squawk as the escape pod lurched and spun the second that it was freed and it realized it was actually upside down. The gyroscopes inside the system snapped them upright with a twisted lurch, throwing them right side up instantly as the systems tried to push them towards the surface of the water.

While it was great for Sparkplug to now be right side up and able to pilot a bit easier should it come down to it, the other boon of it flipping was the fact it shut John up rather instantly. A grunted squawk, a slide of metal against metal followed by a thunk... the Vehicon's head and shoulders flopped down into the seat rest that had been above his head, while legs slung out into the main void of the escape pod at awkward angles that were a bit painful. It was only the chest strap that Reggie had rigged up, that kept John from fully falling out of the chair, arms scrabbling up at the seat with a clamber of claws.

"Hrgh!"

A twist here... a groan there... the escape pod was not designed to be used under water like this. It protested hard, its thrusters having to work overtime to push it through the murky depth. Despite an occasional need to manually correct its trajectory, the pod stayed relatively on course, glints of light shining out from the surface of the water that glittered up above. The newest concern however, was the fact that a lot of the momentum gifted from the ejection, was lost as they neared, the ship struggling hard to maintain speed.

[Sparkplug]

"Safe is relative!" Sparkplug called over her shoulder, and then there was no more time for words. The tiny vessel jerked forward, explosive bolts detonating with sufficient force to ram them into the waiting ocean, and in nanokliks, the vast, all-encompassing shadow of the warship fell behind them into the dim blue. Everything twisted around, rolling as the gyros sought equilibrium and re-centred upright with violent decisiveness.

The pod was travelling fast, and it really wasn't designed for that velocity in a medium this viscous. Rated for vacuum, certainly, and a presentably thin atmosphere, sure, but a salt ocean? It was a minor miracle the thrusters worked under total immersion at all. Creaks, groans and other mechanical noises of distress were a poignant reminder that while she could get crushed to death in the warship as its hull failed, the exact same thing could happen to the pod right then and there.

Beside her, John was sliding down the wall, yelping and wriggling, his legs kicking in her peripheral vision, but she was far too busy trying to keep the pod on course for the surface to worry about that just then. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that he'd injure his leg further flailing about, but if the pod didn't make it, that would be an incredibly academic point.

"I see light above!" Sparkplug burst out suddenly, catching sight of the glitter of sunlight on water. They were struggling towards it, but the pod was slowing precipitously. An instinctual mental calculation comparing the distance left and their diminishing speed did not give a reassuring answer.

"Oh, come on, you rusty, limpet-crusted bolt-bucket, don't you get all feeble on me now," she muttered, her hands dancing over the incredibly limited control board. It didn't seem like she could do much with the micro-rockets, such as they were; they were designed to toss the craft as far away from danger as possible, and were already running full throttle. The only other controls that were even partially applicable were the zero-g manoeuvring jets.

The gas jets.

Okay.

Her fingers flashed over the board, disabling the lock on the jets that was meant to keep them from going off while the main thrusters ran, then she triggered the gas jets underneath the faltering pod. Recoil would help. The gas pumping into the water would reduce the water density, that was good too. An air cushion rising underneath the hull might help for a few moments as well, before it bled away... none of it was perfect, but it was all she had to work with.

Leaning forward, Sparkplug stared upwards through the canopy at the distant, enticing gleam of water, and thought furiously as the pod struggled for the surface. She could blow the canopy out if she had to, but the water would rush in, and even if she forced her way out, she'd just sink. She needed some kind of floatation aid. Which required plastic sheeting, or a sealed container, or something, none of which the pod was furnished with. There wasn't time to come up with a Plan B.

Surface or bust, then.

[Zercon]

John was absolutely not offering anything of value to the moment. Panicked sounds, frenzied squawks, a few screeches to 'do something' that were totally not helpful to actually assist Sparkplug in coming up with any ideas... Luckily, he was not needed to be the brains of the operation here, and the femme actually had the clever idea to give them a bit of an extra boost by tweaking some settings. It gifted them an additional punch to help cut through the remaining water.

Three...

Two...

One...

And just like that the escape pod breached out of the sea a bit faster than was probably expected, sunlight piercing into the viewing windows to sear through the darkness that had been consuming them a moment prior. It was once the ship was free from the confines of the water, one would hope it would fly well once again, able to be more 'in its element', but the hard hitting thrust through the sea water below, had tore off some of the thinner and more delicate parts that would otherwise have offered any semblance of steering and grab in atmosphere. Because of this their flight was fleeting...

...Before the entire thing started to dip down.

The front viewing window started to cant down, gifting a wonderful view of the more rural landscape they were about to greet a lot more up close and personal. Swaths of sand transitioning to a rocky streak of driftwood and sea tumbled stones, before twisting into a forest that was a rich green color and muddled browns that stretched on for miles. It was all untouched by humanity it seemed in the immediate area, except for a few chunks in the distance where it seemed some trees had some branches stripped, bald patches here or there. Perhaps Sparkplug would be able to see a glint of metal in one of these adjacent points... before their own pod started to careen down towards the foliage.

[Sparkplug]

The pod was creaking and groaning, the thrusters were thundering through the thin hull as they fought the tenacious grip of the dense water, and John had completely lost it. The vehicon's screeches of distress and desperation provided the vocals for the soundtrack of imminent catastrophe, leaving Sparkplug half-deafened as she clung to the controls. The light from above was growing, the deep blue of the water growing thinner, the pod growing slower-

The bulk of the escape capsule exploded out of the water like a depth charge detonation, kicking up a towering column of spray that fell away in mists and short-lived rainbows. The light of the local star burst through the clear viewport, flooding the pod with golden radiance, and Sparkplug yelled a wordless shout of success, punching the air.

"Yes! Yes, eat that you lousy gargantuan puddle of salt and silt! We are through! Done! Out of there! No more saltwater for me, not ever!"

The pod lurched. Sparkplug's triumphant grin capsized, and sank without trace.

Then, twisting through the air, it began to fall again.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, up, up is the direction that we need here!" The flightpath flashed urgently on the navigation console, their projected and actual courses diverging rapidly as the crippled thrusters and steering vanes began to give up any semblance of functionality in a cascading series of failures. Fixing it was definitely not an option.

"Aw, Unicron's smug, rust-eating grin, come on," she complained, yanking at the few controls still online. There was dry land out there, thank Primus; the Nemesis had come down in shallow water, relatively close to a landmass. Island? Who knew? She caught a glimpse of what could have been the scars of other pod landings, but before she could focus on it, the pod buffeted and rolled, stealing her view away.

"John! We're going down hard! Don't worry, I've got this," she yelled, with ambiguous truthfulness, "just hang on!" As the pod careened down towards the trees, she hammered the board one last time, trying to roll the whole capsule backwards. If John was plastered against the bulkhead at the front, the sharp deceleration of impact would just pin him more firmly to it. If he was at the back when they hit, he was going to go tearing right out of those improved straps, hurtle across the interior, and splat himself like an insecticon under a combiner's boot.

The pod rolled heavily in midair, a flickering vision of blue sky and green forest flashing through the viewport. "Oh, scrap," she breathed, and pulled her arms tight around herself, bracing for the collision.

[Zercon]

Nope. Noppidy. Nada. Nayday. Nizopez.

John clutched onto that makeshift strap with everything he had, the silver talons of his hands borderline cutting the material, while his joints creaked in protest at the pressure being put behind them. He was going to hang onto these things as a life grip, a hundred and ten percent not planning to let go of it under any situation. What he didn’t count on was for the entire shuttle to suddenly lurch in an unexpected way other than 'down' however, and for momentum to suddenly throw him towards the front of the pod that early.

With a sharp snap of blades slicing through strapping, John's handhold vanished, and he was flung forward to slam up beside Sparkplug near the controls. His body was still upside down in an unnatural way during this, aft almost on the dash while body twisted down towards where feet would traditionally rest, but while up and down was changing rapidly during a dive-bomb of a spin... who could really say which of them was the one who was upside down?

The collision that followed was not a pretty one. Popping lurches, snapped crackles, sprays of foliage and shrapnel of bark and wood blistering out into view in random flashes... The pod hefted and careened in a disorganized roll, trajectory and spin changing some each time it collided with a thick tree branch or trunk that tried to resist the impact, most of all failing under the pure mass of the metal pod. Despite the speed they had however, it did not really take them long to fully roll to a stop, the final halt caused by a particularly large tree that stood its ground in their path. With a heavy clunk and rattle of jostled free panels and newly exposed wires... the pod stopped.

Loud beeping played from the control monitor, errors attempting to map out the damage that the pod had obtained during the crash. Red portions highlighted on a small diagram, though... instead of just highlighting a fin or an engine, the entire thing seemed to be red, right down to the front windshield that had some scrapes and scuffs carved across its surface from whipping branches. Despite this beeping, it was almost alarmingly quiet compared to the chaos that happened previously, John's disoriented groan formed that showed that he was indeed still alive.

The Vehicon was crumpled up at the side of the pod, arms draped dramatically over one of the bench like chairs as if that small amount of cushion was the most comfortable thing in the world to him. He went so far as to have his faceplate smashed into this material, not even wanting to face reality while his processor tried to catch up to things. Fresh Energon pooled underneath his injured knee, the lurching around twisting the joint and aggravating the wound... but he seemed otherwise ok.

[Sparkplug]

"Fly! Fly, you salt-crusted, rust-ridden, glitch-spewing, tin-assed junkheap! Go up!"

On the one hand, it probably wouldn't help John's state of mind to listen to her ranting at the controls. On the other hand, he wasn't going to enjoy the descent anyway, and it did make her feel better.

Briefly.

Because, not to put too fine a point on it, this felt awfully reminiscent of her descent in the malfunctioning drop pod, mere cycles ago, and she remembered exactly how that ended.

"Primus, you slag-caked, festering planetary pustule! What did I ever do to deserve this again?" she yelled at the flickering, strobing sky. John slammed into the front viewport as the pod tumbled, still upside down, but there was no time to think about that because here came the ground-

-

Sparkplug blinked, spiral shutters flickering, then opening fully. She tried to stand up but immediately fell back into her chair, pinned by the webbing around her torso.

She had a truly nasty ache in her processor, and it was making her slow to grasp what was going on. Her chair mount was bent to one side, putting everything at an odd angle. Exploring fingers found a dent in her helm.

"Ow," she muttered. She seemed to have acquired a confused memory of being flipped upside down and right-side up several times, like she'd been thrown into a giant version of the terrestrial clothing washing mechanisms, with an extra side of mysterious greenery. Where was she?

Comprehension clicked into place.

"John?" Sparkplug asked suddenly, looking around sharply, then discovering why it was a bad idea to move her helm suddenly as stars of pain exploded behind her optics. Twisting the buckle release, she slithered out of her chair to the slanting floor. Ah. There was the wounded vehicon, still functioning, though obviously the impact hadn't done anything good for his damaged limb.

She should really get him to the medbay, to be seen to. Except no medbay, no ship, nowhere to go...

She wanted to put that into a big bucket marked 'deal with later'. Except, unfortunately, later seemed to have caught up with them both.

Okay, think rationally. The pod's systems were mostly fried. Not helpful. They couldn't even rely on it for shelter. Still, on the off-chance that the comms array wasn't buried half-way through a tree somewhere back along their collision path, she tapped her personal comm code into the emergency beacon system, and triggered it. A light blinked, which could mean Message sent! Beacon activated! Everything will be fine! or, more likely, Fat chance, bucko. She couldn't really tell the difference, at this point. It'd have to do.

That left her unwilling companion, still busily embracing the seats. Making her way over to him, she patted him on the helm. "Hey, now. I get it, you want to stay right where you are, and I don't want to make you move much, either. Thing is, this pod is a mess, and I don't want to still be sitting in it if the engines decide they've had quite enough of today, and express their displeasure lavishly and exothermically." She paused, then translated, "Let's leave, in case it all goes bang. I'll lend you an arm again."

Offering him her hand, she reached out with the other to flip the pod exit ramp controls. Hopefully they'd work. It was feeling like a long cycle, and she didn't need the hassle of cutting her way out, too.

[Zercon]

Was it over? Did it stop? Were they all dead? He didn’t see a light...

Groaning in disorientation, John's helm rose a bit as he was touched, trying to angle enough so that she could land inside of his field of vision. The femme seemed to be in one piece, which was great! Or maybe it was some robot angel come here to guide his spark back to the well. Who knows, his vision was a bit blurry from being shaken around, trying to listen to what she had to say.

Complex words, things John just wasn’t really in the mindset to comprehend... Exothermically... displeasure? If it were any other day, if he hadn't just been shaken around the pod like some coins in a tin can, if he wasn’t damaged and disoriented... he would have out two and two together really quick to realize just what Sparkplug was saying. However, it wasn’t until she proclaimed 'things go bang' that things clicked for him, and the Vehicon's visor seemed to illuminate a bit brighter as realization caught up to him and he became well aware of the new threat and what exactly was going on.

Perking up, John grabbed onto one of the support beams that one was meant to hold when sitting in the chair, his systems growling a bit as he hefted himself upright onto his good leg. A hiss of pain formed at this, his damaged leg dragging a bit towards him, but the pain of a damaged leg was likely a thousand times better than the pain of being ripped apart, so he was rather well motivated, straining upright.

"Ughhh..."

Once the trooper was fully upright once again, his weight supported by his good leg, he then reached over and let go of the ships handles, grabbing hold of Sparkplug to resume the same position they had taken what felt like eons ago on the ship. He was still eternally grateful that she was helping him this much, she was really going out of her way to make sure that he lived it felt like, and he honestly did appreciate it.

"Let's get out of here!"

He squawked a bit, a sort of makeshift 'adrenalin' making him not pay heed to any new pains he was experiencing.

The door to the pod was perhaps one of the few things that would not disappoint this day, the hatch releasing pressure before flinging open abruptly with a bang, its bottom edge ramming into the soft earth below.

[Sparkplug]

Contrast was everything, Sparkplug thought.

For instance, when she'd been about to disembark from the cramped alien transport ship she'd taken to the lousy planet she was currently on, she simply couldn't wait to get outside. Emerging from the shattered drop pod into wide open spaces and unlimited head room had been an unbelievable relief after spending the trip crammed into a too-small cargo bay, sitting on the floor and hugging her knees.

All the same, it hasn't taken long for her to grow tired of the bleak, sandy wastes she'd landed in, and it had been a relief in turn to get aboard the Nemesis - a nice, clean, technologically advanced environment. That, in turn, had grown stifling enough for her to take a semi-sanctioned drive to a human settlement just to stretch her axles a bit. No one environment, no matter how pleasant, could satisfy that need for change, for contrast, indefinitely.

As the rear pod doors opened, letting in a flood of air that actually didn't stink of burnt electronics, she experienced the pleasant contrast of believing she probably wasn't about to die a quick and violent death. Doubtless the greenery outside would eventually pale in turn, but she was prepared to risk it.

"Up we go," she grunted as she took John's weight, finding the substantially larger vehicon hard work to even partially support. If he'd been knocked unconscious, or worse, there was no way she'd have been able to drag him from amongst the seats, and she inwardly threw a few quick, profanity-laced thanks towards Primus that she hadn't ended up in that position. The ridges of the ramp gave her a last little bit of traction, and then her peds were sinking into the softness of raw earth and churned vegetation.

"We made it," she sighed, half in disbelief, as they limped out of the pod's shadow. "I was sure we were going down with the ship that time. Alright. Now we have to pick a decent compromise between being near all the handy components and injury kits and whatnot in the pod, and being far enough away not to get blasted if it goes bang. Wish I knew more about the engine and fuel specs. Oh, well. Best guess and conservative margins."

Shifting her shoulders to more evenly distribute his weight, putting her back to the pod and helping him towards the dubious cover of the trees, she switched on her internal radio. Without a broadcasting station to pick up her signals, point-to-point was going to be a lot more short-range than she'd like, but at least it had a chance of working now she was out of the signal-deadening water and beyond the hull.

:: This is Sparkplug; any mecha out there receiving me? I'm with a vehicon, code JNN-702, who has serious damage to one leg. We've evacuated the crash site, but our pod is damaged and inoperable. That's research officer Sparkplug, undamaged, vehicon JNN-702, limb damaged, at attached coordinates. Please respond::

[Zercon]

The forest around them was a sharp contrast to the Nemesis from before. Large green trees, mossy foliage and thick swaths of shrubbery and grasses, all spackled with rays of light that flicked down through the shifting leaves and branches that hung above... it was rather beautiful and untouched all things considered, if you didn't turn around and see the massive gored path of destruction the escape pod had left that is...

A sizable trench of churned up earth, some freshly exposed rocks, it was all well lit compared to the dappled light the two Cybertronian were standing in due to the fact the pod itself had torn open a good path through the trees taking branches down with it. Mangled splintered chunks riddled the area in a damaged array, creating numerous tripping hazards along the wake of the pod's collapse.

John was not actively looking at the destruction side of anything however, more focused on limping AWAY from the chaos with his new best friend ((as far as he was concerned)). His visored faceplate lifted up to look over at the broad leaves overhead, taking in the sounds of shuffling foliage that could barely be heard over the crackle of seared electrical components and a possible small fire a short distance away that crackles within the pod.

"I don’t know if the trees would provide much shelter?"

It was both a suggestion, and a question. He knew trees were made of a rather sturdy organic material all things considered, but it was no metal. It may not be able to stop much of anything if the shuttle were to combust, or maybe if they put enough of them between them and the pod it could act as a makeshift dampener? Whatever the case, he fell quiet when her call went out, helm rising again to try to keep alert to what was around them now that they were grounded.

A crackled voice filtered back almost immediately.

::OSK-392 to Research Officer Sparkplug. We read you loud and clear. On transit towards Eskape pod now. Yours was the one to just go down, correct?::

[Sparkplug]

"Nice and prompt response, huh? That's what I like to hear! Guess the comms net outside the hull isn't the total glitch-show I'd expected it to be," Sparkplug remarked, half to John, half to herself. Picking up her pace a bit as she detected the crackling from behind her - never a good sound around technology - she radioed back.

::Good to hear from you, OSK. Yeah, we were the ones that just ploughed a shiny new track across the face of this forest. Pod might have an internal fire; don't get too close. We're heading directly starboard from the pod impact scar::

Clicking out of radio transmission mode, Sparkplug looked around herself and scoffed, shaking her helm. "Much shelter, this lot? Nah. Any decent detonation will blow through this stuff like it isn't here. Maybe take a bit of shrapnel down with it. Distance is our real friend, here. Explosive force drops off with the cube of the radius from the detonation point."

Heaving his arm a little higher across her shoulders, she put her helm down and pushed forcefully through the undergrowth, determined to make some headway. For a moment, she considered her weapons systems, then, regretfully, decided against it. All this foliage was probably inflammable, and starting a forest fire would be almost as bad as standing next to the pod waiting for it to go bang.

"First time getting among the native sessile organics like this," she added absently, ducking lower to avoid a particularly sturdy branch. "Done a bit of driving around on their transport corridors, and when I landed, I wandered around a hot dust and grit desert for a while, which a few sad, scrubby cousins of these things sticking out of it," she gestured at the trees around them, "but this is on another level. Been a long time since I've been somewhere the organic life was getting on this well. Just as well for us, really. If the pod had come down in a field of boulders instead of this stuff, it'd have smashed a lot more badly."

Looking up for any sign of a transport passing overhead, she paused, then frowned. "Darn. I've been assuming that this OSK was going to bring us some kind of airlift vehicle to regroup with. I guess he could just be an airframe. You know anything about this guy?"

[Zercon]

::There should be a fire extinguisher in a hatch just inside the door to the left, if you are able and the flames are visible, otherwise keep a good distance::

Prompt reply just like the first time, before things went quiet for a bit.

John reached his free hand up as they traversed, grabbing onto any low hanging branches that were going to be in the way, and trying to bend them up and over him. The action caused creaks from some of the trees, small near silent protests that were followed by solid 'TWAPS' as they were let go of and set free. Foliage rained down from this, green and yellow leaves fluttering in a trail in their wake.

"I've gone planet side a couple times securing Energon loads."

He declared, helm crooking up to admire the trees some as they traversed.

"It's real interesting, but never had a chance to really interact with it any. The water runways are somewhat neat! But... I don't know if I would want to see any of those for awhile."

A more grumbled sound, before he hissed a bit in pain, continuing to power forward despite how much his leg hurt. Every time they pulled ahead, every step of him swinging his good leg forward to bear his weight again, it caused sharp lances to shoot up the grinding joint. He just hoped it was the extent of their injuries for the day, as he didn’t want to deal with shrapnel in his back either.

"Uhh... OSK? Yeah, he's no airframe; he's one of the miners that are normally stationed planet side. Real clever though, I think... he was working towards trying to get a small team of his own for the mines? I don't know..."

It may be just speculation. John was more familiar with others who worked in supplies and maintenance, as well as some of the guards who patrolled regularly. He could be wrong, thinking about another trooper, but this train of thought was cast aside as there was a roar of a jet that screamed overhead. John's helm snapped up instantly to try to see through the foliage just as another pass of engines screeched past, signaling there were two flyers of some kind.

The boom of the airframes curved around before hooking back readily, the snarled heave pretty much on top of them, before two Eradicons slammed down in the wake of the ship where the shuttle had gored a path through the trees. The first soldier snapped upright readily, wings and armor finishing latching into place from the transformation with a hiss while the second was a bit more languid and pulled himself up a moment after, red visor scanning the area to try to see where the two individuals were. While the second scanned the area, the first stepped forward slowly, left arm hooking up where a plate flipped open off of the limb, starting to type information down into the arm mounted system.

[Sparkplug]

::No visible flames, just a crackling that could be a short. We'll keep our distance::

Lingering on the image of a silent, internal fire crackling its way towards the pod's internal fuel cells, Sparkplug shook her helm and sped up the pace a little. She ducked beneath the branches as John lifted them overhead; she'd had enough sudden impacts for one day, and didn't need to be flattened by some aggressively springy native growth with delusions of grandeur.

"A miner, huh? Not had a chance to talk to them all that much yet. Should probably go and take a visit to one of the mines sometime, have a look at the equipment they're using. Never know where you might be able to help out. Mind you, I'm sure they don't need mecha with no clear business tramping about, getting in the way and distracting them from the work. The multi-layer optics are interesting, though. Wondered if the secondary optic feeds are built to pick up other frequencies beyond the standard spread."

It was definitely more pleasant to speculate about the proper protocol for visiting mines than it was to linger on the colossal reversal of fortune the Decepticons as a whole had just suffered. Even more than usual, Sparkplug knew she was mostly talking to herself, to take her mind off all the other things she should be fretting about.

The scream of jet engines added itself to her personal array of distraction techniques. Pausing to look up, and realising John was doing the same, she squinted through the fractal cover of the green leaves. There were non-trivial odds that these might be more of the attackers, even if Autobots were generally more at home at ground level, and for that matter, it hadn't been established that whoever had hit the Nemesis were Autobots at all. Granted, most other races tended to stay away for fear of getting swept up in the endless Cybertronian civil war, but it didn't do to discard percentage probabilities without due cause.

Purple and grey glittered dully through the trees. Eradicons. Probably fine, then. No point in getting too paranoid. All the same, she remarked to John mildly, "Prop yourself up on this here tree, and I'll go say hello." It'd be nice to have her gun arm free, just in case.

Able to move considerably faster without supporting him, it only took a moment for Sparkplug to duck back through the vegetation, emerging a bit further down the gouged track of the pod's crash landing. "Hey! Over here!" she called out, waving with her right hand. "I'm glad to see you!" Probably. "John's back in the trees a bit; could do with a hand. Or a new pede, more accurately. What's the plan? Got somewhere for the evacuees to congregate set up yet?"