2015-05-14 Trouble on Delphi

From Transformers: Lost and Found

Trouble on Delphi
Date 2015/05/14
Location Delphi
Participants Blast Off, Fortress Maximus, Grimlock, Rodimus, Slugfest, Whirl
NPCs Ambulon, Drift, First Aid, Pharma, Ratchet
Plot Trouble at Delphi
Scene GM Tez
Summary A visit to the brig to visit the brawlers ends in an emergency rescue on Delphi. More or less.

Once repairs have been made, the Lost Light's latest troublemakers find themselves escorted to the brig to cool their heels and sleep it off, as unlikely as sleeping off four million years of built up rage is. Anyway, they are in the brig. It's just about time for rations, but /lucky them/, it's not the usual security guard bringing them: it's Rodimus. He's carrying the low-grade energon that's the usual fair, as well as a bottle of something better.

It's convenient that Whirl and Blast Off are placed opposite each other, because Rodimus just has to stand between them and go, "Hey! Chowtime." He lobs a cube of energon to Blast Off. Catch. The bottle he offers to Whirl. "Heard you never finished your drink." It's wine. Good wine. He even winks. Yeah, here is your captain, setting good standards for behavior.

Once repairs have been made, the Lost Light's latest troublemakers find themselves escorted to the brig to cool their heels and sleep it off, as unlikely as sleeping off four million years of built up rage is. Anyway, they are in the brig. It's just about time for rations, but /lucky them/, it's not the usual security guard bringing them: it's Rodimus. He's carrying the low-grade energon that's the usual fair, as well as a bottle of something better.

It's convenient that Whirl and Blast Off are placed opposite each other, because Rodimus just has to stand between them and go, "Hey! Chowtime." He lobs a cube of energon to Blast Off. Catch. Grimlock's ration is slid over with the nudge of a toe. The bottle he offers to Whirl. "Heard you never finished your drink." It's wine. Good wine. He even winks. Yeah, here is your captain, setting good standards for behavior.

"I'm cooled off already," Grimlock grouches, figuratively biting the hand that's literal feeding him. "When're you springin' me? I didn't even start the fight!" He scowls over at Whirl and Blast Off, whom he's surely been a super great neighbor to since they showed up.

Since the second he was placed in the brig he's done nothing but glare at Blast Off through the bars. Every now and then he'll launch some offensive insult at the shuttleformer, but other than that he just stares that cold, emotionless stare only an empurata is capable of. It's only when Rodimus enters, brandishing crappy rations and excellent wine does he tear his gaze away.

"Heh, yeah. Seems I can't even enjoy a drink in peace around here with this friggin' Decepticons running around, sticking their noses in other people's business." He takes the offer of wine, his stare returning to Blast Off as he does so. Ohh man, this must be killing him.

Blast Off is in jail. AGAIN. The Combaticon is starting to believe he is doomed to forever LIVE here, for sitting in a jail cell is definitely not unfamiliar to him. No, he's spent many years in prison. Part of being a Combaticon and mercenary and a renegade and all that. It doesn't ever get any easier, though, and every time he finds himself back in a cell he swears this will be the last. And yet... here he is again. He tries to look aloof as Rodimus comes in, and NOT give away the unease he feels. There's no way he'll ever give Blast Off a fair shake. He's a Decepticon, Rodimus is an Autobot- and in charge. He's DOOMED.

Blast Off also tries to ignore the cyclops sitting across the way from him, but it's difficult as Rodimus tosses the shuttle an energon cube and WHIRL GETS A WINE BOTTLE and proceeds to act like the innocent victim. His aloof demeanor evaporates a little as he holds the cube and stares at the two Autobots, with the occassional glance over to Grimlock, an indignant outrage flickering across his optics. ".... You don't REALLY believe that, do you?" He asks Rodimus, "Has /anyone/ bothered to talk to witnesses at the scene? I DEMAND an investigation! HE was the guttersnipe buffoon who POURED his wine all over the FLOOR just trying to pick a fight with me!" There's a pause. "....And what happened to fair treatment of prisoners, anyway? Is this what I can expect as a Decepticon onboard this ship? Playing favorites?" He looks down at his cube. Poor, pathetic cube.

"Cooled, huh? Yeah, you sure sound it." Rodimus takes a few steps more to stand outside Grimlock's cell. He glances across the way to where Breakdown is deep in cozy recharge. Waking him up would just be rude, right? So when he keys Grimlock's cell -- beep boop! -- he's really being /nice/ not releasing them at the same time. "Anyway, I guess you might as well be sprung."

Stepping back, Rodimus grins at Whirl. "That's rough," he says with the profound sympathy of one firmly on /this/ side of the bars. He gives Blast Off an amused glance. "An investigation for what? Blowing off steam?" He makes a scoffing noise that Chromedome would deeply envy. "Please, don't encourage Magnus. We've already got enough law scrap to deal with because of him." He hooks his thumb toward Grimlock. "If someone wants to bring /you/ a bottle of wine, all they have to do is tell me. Funny enough, no one has. I guess Whirl's just got more friends than you." .../yeah/.

Grimlock looks more suspicious than anything else when Rodimus keys his door open, and he spends a moment peering at the other bot before stepping out. "Whirl doesn't have friends," he says, because everyone knows Whirl, and everyone knows Whirl doesn't have friends.

"An investigation?" Whirl laughs, popping the top off the wine so he can take a nice big swig. A swig in this case consists of Whirl dumping a bunch of wine all over his 'face,' wasting most of it as it just dribbles down his frame. "Mmmm, oh yeahh. That's the good stuff right there." Another swig, another wasted cup of wine. "Ohhhhh yeah.... soooooo goooooood. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh right. An investigation!?" He laughs again. "Don't be an idiot."

He gives Grimlock an envious look (maybe, it's hard to tell) when his door is unlocked, yet he remains UNFAIRLY imprisoned. "I have friends! There's that one guy uh... Well, okay, what about.. hmm no, he hasn't spoken to me since that stabbing incident.." He shrugs. "Eh."

Blast Off listens to Rodimus, the indignant outrage turning more sullen as it becomes quite apparent to him that no, he will not be treated fairly. DARN AUTOBOT BIAS of the CAPTAIN and all THAT. The release of Grimlock (but not Breakdown) and the favor towards Whirl and not him gets a deadpan look as the shuttleformer just seems to sink back a little. His outrage isn't working, so he becomes more watchful- and reproachful. "....Can I at least get a chance to explain my side of this, or is there no point in bothering?"

Whirl gets another long stare, though, especially as that wine, that precious wine, is so horribly and tragically wasted. "....How many bottle of wine do we even HAVE on this ship, anyway?" His armor plates bristle a little as he retorts, "I am NOT an idiot, except perhaps for thinking I could walk into a bar on this ship without being hassled." He turns to glare at Rodimus, and proclaim haughtily, "I DEMAND to see Soundwave!"

Rodimus very obviously places one finger over his lips and rolls his eyes at Grimlock. OF COURSE Whirl doesn't have any friends, but PRETEND is semaphored in gesture, expression, and eyebrow.

"Not really interested," Rodimus admits as he leans against the wall next to Blast Off's cell. "Doesn't matter why you did it. All that matters is you did it. And Whirl came through just fine, but you shouldn't have shot him," he says. "I can't believe I have to tell you that, but shooting bad, punches good -- well, not good, just kidding, Magnus," he says with a look up at the ceiling. "Red, don't tell him I said that. Look at Grimlock, here! He just stuck to punching. You did just stick to punching, right?" Looking back down at Blast Off, he hesitates, and then nods. "Fine. I'll tell Soundwave you want to see him. But he's up to date on--."

Rodimus breaks off and turns away with a tilt of his head as he listens to something inaudible to the rest. "--want to run that one by me again, Drift?" he asks a distant voice, and then leaves them all in suspense about it.

"He punched me first," Grimlock deadpans at Rodimus, which is kind of like an answer. He looks supremely unimpressed at Blast Off's demands, but at least he's not in charge.

"I demand to see Soundwave~" Whirl mocks, doing his best impression of Blast Off's haughty, oddly British sounding voice. He stops pretending to merely drink the wine and begins to pour it into a neck shunt, dispensing it directly into his systems. "Can you believe this guy?"

He's quiet while Rodimus is on the phone but he continues to provoke Blast Off, staring him directly in the optics as pours a little bit of wine out onto the floor.

"But HE STARTED IT!" The Combaticon continues to protest, now resorting to physical finger-pointing. "I kept trying to mind my own business and he kept edging into my space, shoving me, /headlocking/ me, wasting that *perfectly* good bottle of Red Supernova, and even smashing into a table trying to tackle me to the ground! It was SELF DEFENSE, pure and simple!" He would go on, too, but Rodimus gets interrupted by a call. This leaves Blast Off to wait and wonder and eventually look over at Grimlock with a glare. He's surrounded by Autofools and he's obviously never getting out of this jail cell. And worst of all, he has to SUFFER THROUGH WATCHING WHIRL WASTE MORE WINE.

His glare turns into ice daggers as Whirl proceeds to mock his (admittedly odd) accent. "I BEG YOUR PARDON I sound NOTHING like that!" He waves with a hand, palm up. "And this is *Okay*?! He can waste a limited resource like that but I, as a true wine connoisseur, can't find a bottle to buy on the entire ship?!" Finally, though, he receives some relief as Whirl at least DRINKS the rest (if you can call that drinking). He goes back to sullen staring, fists clenching and twitching a little, interspersed with attempts to look aloof and disinterested. It's not working very well.

"Don't care!" Rodimus sing-songs back to Blast Off as he continues to defend himself. "Still don't care -- no, not you, Drift, I totally care, that sounds terrible. I'll send some people down. Just how bad is it?" This is what happens when you try to hold two conversations at once: Rodimus almost hurts Drift's /feelings/. Ignoring the last of Blast Off's words (and ignoring Grimlock equally, see, it really is fair treatment for all!) he finally finishes his conversation with a few low mutters and turns back to them.

"Okay!" Rodimus slams the release button on Whirl's cell, then on Blast Off's. "Come on, we've got a situation on the planet and I'm not giving up my third-in-command and my medic to a bunch of Council nitwits. So you're on -- I don't know, community service or something." He gives Grimlock an appraising look and says, "You too." They've been press-ganged into action. "Come on. We're hitting Delphi."

Rodimus doesn't bother to listen to any protests or arguments, but since he lets them arm up again before going, surely that is very much to the interests of all those /currently/ involved. They don't take the Rodpod. Its day will come, but it is not this day. One day.

Delphi is just a short airdrop away, cold and snowy, and the medical facility that's their target is under siege by massive, sparkless golden drones chanting various numbers under their breath. "Kind of weird," Rodimus says with that clear, directed leadership he is so known for. "Go punch your way to a door, would you?"

"You let me out!" Grimlock immediately complains, because certainly that means his punishment is /over/ now. But he tromps off with reluctant obedience to follow, and cheers up a bit when he's offered weapons. Down on the planet, he presses his face to the glass and says, "What the hell." Then he tromps off the shuttle and considers the fray. After a moment's consideration, it's not the guns he goes for, but the -- well. Dinosaur. He punctuates the transformation into his alt-mode with a dinobot roar before charging into the crowd. CHOMP.

And just like that, Whirl finds himself on Delphi alongside Rodimus and Grimlock and.. Blast Off because why not bring him too? Surely he and Whirl wont fight again. Surely.

"What.." He peers out towards the crowd of golden robots. "..the hell is all this? You bust me out of the brig for.. I'm not even sure." There are still so many questions that need to be asked (most of them being 'what the hell, Rodimus?') but he forgets all about them when Grimlock goes charging nto the crowd, threatening to kill all the drones before he can. He transforms into his alternate mode and takes to the air to pick off the spark-less freaks from afar, lest he end up getting mangled underneath Grimlock's feet.

Blast Off just gives Rodimus a deadpan look to end all deadpan looks, but it finally seems to just wear the Combaticon into silence through sheer DUMBFOUNDERY. He slumps a little a little before remembering himself and straightening up once again for his more standard haughty demeanor. WELL. He'll sit here, probably rot forever and ever, never get out and...*click* He glances up as Rodimus opens his cell door. Optics flickering, he just sits and stares. "Why should I?..." Trust them? Help them? Not think he'll be left behind Primus knows where and stranded...oh wait, he's a space shuttle. Actually that would be just fine. Okay then.

And so he finds himself armed again (yay). Also working alongside a whole bunch of Autobots (NOT yay). He gazes warily up at Grimlock, then GLARES at Whirl, then grips his ionic blaster even tighter. Unlike Whirl and Grimlock, he DOESN'T go charging into the fray at Rodimus' command. No, he stands there, looking aloof. "....What are we doing here again, and why?"

Slugfest scampers into the room to visit Blast Off, and is pleasantly surprised that Blast Off is to be let out! He wags his thagomizer at the announcement that they'd be going to Delphi! He runs over to Blast Off. "Yay, are out of jails!"

"We're killing them," Rodimus says, gesturing between himself and the far-off drones, "because they are between us and Drift. You know Grimlock and Whirl are getting waaaay more of them right now than you are, right?" He flashes Blast Off a challenging grin, and then throws himself forward to go add to the Autobot kill count. Decepticons are gonna be so far behind.

The broad-shouldered and eyeless drones continue to chant their numbers. They don't say anything else. They fight well, for all that, but there are so many of them that it's frankly kind of weird.

Inside, the medics -- Ratchet, Pharma, First Aid, Ambulon -- fall back to their last and largest patient. Drift is attempting to hold off the drones which have already made their way into the medical facility, but he can only do so much., First Aid takes things into his own hands. A moment later Fortress Maximus finds himself revived from his coma, coming to alertness in a room filled with Autobots desperately fighting for their lives against mysterious golden drones. Good morning, sunshine!

"Why do they keep saying numbers!" For some reason, amidst the carnage, this is what Grimlock finds most aggravating. His method of coping is apparently to bite the drone's faces off, which helps considerably with quieting them. He rips apart his latest kill, one massive foot holding the drone to the ground as his jaw clamps on the other end to pull. CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP.

Slugfest charges at drones, chainsaws whirring and tail ready to whap! Any drones he's not sawing, he's gnawing on! He darts between the drones' legs so they can't catch him, then turns around and saws their legs!

Blast Off grumbles to himself. Well, it's not like he CARES or anything. Of course not. Let the Autofools do their thing, he's got no stake in this at all. Nope, and if he's going to be treated the way he was, then he'll just..... Hmm. Actually... doing nothing might be a bad tactic. If he charges in, shows them what a Combaticon can do, how useful they can be... maybe they'll realize he's more valuable OUTSIDE the jail cell than inside it.

Alright. That does it. Springing into the air, he transforms, shuttle mode arcing up only to come swooping back down, leaving a trail of drones in the wake of his laserfire.

Seemingly not content with staying in the air and picking off chanting drones from afar, Whirl dives down into the crowd and slams into just one of many automatons with the bulk of his altmode. He quickly transforms and swings his arms like a maniac, slicing and rending panel after panel of gold armor until he starts to see internal tubing and fuel lines at which point he will grab them by the clawful and yank them right out of it's body. The whole process is pretty quick and he's already transforming and flying off before others can acost him. It's actually really ineffective especially when you compare it to Grimlock's mass-murdering but man is it ever fun.

<< Look who finally joined the party, >> Whirl says to Blast Off over a short-wave frequency. << Nice lasers. You're turning this killing spree into a sweet rave. >>

Fortress Maximus has been comatose ever since Overlord seized control of Garrus-9 and stuck him on the door to the Aequitas chamber once he'd had nothing left to torture out of him. Which means that he's been out of commission since before the war ended. A lot of things have changed, to say the least.

But for him, it's as if no time has gone by. The last thing he remembers is being tortured by the psychotic Decepticon, then thrown to the eager crowds of his own former prisoners to do as they pleased with him. It didn't end well, to say the least. If only he had been granted the luxury of death at the time. Had it ever come, at long last?

Apparently not.

Maximus returns to the world of the functioning, finding himself in a room full of strange giant drones he doesn't immediately recognize, a few Autobots, three of whom are medics, and a lot of fighting. For a moment, he struggles to sit up, feeling dazed and confused. Are those...numbers being chanted...? What's going on...?

However, the delirium quickly ends when he spots a -Decepticon- amongst his Autobot allies. Namely, Blast Off, since Slugfest is smaller and likely less noticeable. Oh, and he -knows- which Decepticon that is too. It's Blast Off, one of those Primus-forsaken slagheap Combaticons who swiped the Monstructor Six from Garrus-9 a few hundred metacycles ago. Or...however long ago it was...he he has no idea how long it's been, or if his chronometer is even right at all. Whatever. It doesn't matter!

"YOU!" he roars, suddenly lurching off of the circuit slab. He dives at a drone that Whirl has just cut up, ripping its weapon from its arm and wasting no time in firing it at the Combaticon relentlessly. Never mind that Blast Off was helping the Autobots. Nope. Doesn't matter...

The weapon is built-in to the drone's frame, rather like Cybertronian weapons often are. When ripped from its arm, the gun goes dead. Too bad! That probably would've been a great shot!

With the numbers thinned by the combined Autobot and Decepticon efforts, there's a straight line of smashed doors and open spaces between Fortress Maximus and the Lost Lighters trying to get to the medics. Yet in that straight line are many drones that turn now against Fort Max. The numbers are briefly overwhelming, and his view of Blast Off is obscured. MAYBE THEY ARE DECEPTICON DRONES. With a weird fetish for repeating the same number over and over.

"Well that's -- great. DRIFT, HOW ABOUT AN UPDATE," Rodimus shouts from somewhere in the thick of things. Drift, alas, is too busy getting Ratchet and the others out of the way, leaving one last surge for the others as they finally clear their way in to where Fort Max is dealing with the last. Probably. Well, necessarily, if he wants to get past them to shoot Blast Off.

"You, who?" Grimlock's dino head whirls around to catch sight of Fortress Maximus's grand entrance. And subsequent attempt to rush Blast Off. "Ugh. /Him/." He chomps another drone, but he does it disdsainfully in Fort Max's direction.

Slugfest is busy gnawing on a drone he's felled with his chainsaws!

Blast Off swerves suddenly towards the right, wing pointing downwards as he aims and fires another strafing round at the drones. A whole row fall before him. He's feeling pretty good about himself now, feeling alive like he always does engaged in combat. Then he gets that radio transmission from Whirl. The shuttle is silent a moment before responding.

<< I do things by *choice*, not *command*, and I took in the situation, factored all the elements in play, and then *decided* to help with deliberation and forethought, actions that are anathema to those of you who simply rush in blindly. (*Haughty sniff*) >> He comes veering in to where Whirl is, still firing off shots. << Less rave, more *raze*. Allow me to demonstrate, Autobot. >> He flies directly overhead Whirl, rocketing past in his huge shuttle mode and slicing through the air with a shattering roar as lasershots rain down- and come down fairly close to Whirl. *pew pew pew!!* The volley of shots ring out and debris from the impacts scatter and spray on the ground right near- or right ON- Whirl. But surely it's coincidence, right? << Ooops, my apologies~... >> Yeah right.

The Combaticon has just finished that little display when Maximus wakes up- and spots him. Suddenly faced with a volley firing up at him, the shuttle gets sliced across his fuselage. Fortunately it's a shallow hit, but he wastes no time veering off and upward even as he aims a shot and fires back at Maximus. After all, no one TOLD him who they're there to get, and Maximus just fired on him....

Unfortunately the drone's weapon doesn't last very long, though it does apparently last long enough to get a few grazing hits against the Combaticon's fuselage. But then the drones close in. Ugh. Frustrated, Maximus transforms and attempts to plow them over, only to be met by another shot that is not from the drones but from Blast Off. It knocks a chunk from his outer frame.

He transforms again, standing up and staring at the Combaticon flying overhead. Why weren't any of the others shooting at him? Why is even -here- to begin with?! "The hell is going on here?!" he demands. "Who's in charge?!"

"That would be me," says Rodimus. He pushes forward in front of the others with a last shot at a twitching drone. "Anyone know what those things are?" he asks generally, but doesn't wait for an answer. With the last of the drones fallen, he glances past the others to Drift. They exchange a complicated sort of glance but it ends with a thumbs up from Rodimus and a hesitant smile from Drift. Meanwhile, Ratchet is bitching about things, but -- that's nothing new. Returning his attention to Max, Rodimus says, "And if you're done shooting drones, stand down. Blast Off, I saw you shoot back! What did I just tell you about shooting Autobots? That was literally like an hour ago." He squints. "Maybe."

Grimlock spits out one of the last of the drones that he has thoroughly chomped to bits between his chompy dinosaur teefs. "They got rules now about shooting Cons," he shares with Fort Max. "It fraggin' sucks."

Blast Off transforms and lands once all the drones are fallen. He protests (he seems to be doing a lot of that lately) to Rodimus, "But HE SHOT at ME!" He also seems to be saying THAT a lot, too. Looking from Autobot to Autobot, he gives a loud *hufff*. "I was taking down enemy combatants and he appeared to be one. That is all." He gives an aloof little shrug. "But so be it, if he is your ally I shall cease firing." He does pause to eye the large Autobot warily. "He just needs to do the same." Grimlock gets a glare. "I joined as an ally. I.. realize relations may be a bit... strained, but I'm on YOUR side now."

An optic ridge goes up at Rodimus. Him? Isn't he..."Hot Rod?" Maximus folds his arms. "And who the frag put -you- in charge?" If -anyone- here's qualified to lead, it's Grimlock. And why won't anyone tell him what the slag is going on?

Regarding what Grimlock just said, Fort Max has but one response to that. "Yeah, and I have just one--!" That being do it on sight if possible. And despite what Blast Off just said, he lunges at the Combaticon, intending to beat him senseless unless someone pulls him away!

"It's Rodimus now, actually." His tone is frosty, rather unlike his usual heat. "And it's comp--" That's when Fort Max goes for Blast Off, and with a, "Oh, for Primus's sake -- Grimlock! Help me restrain him!" he lunges to get between /Fort Max/ and a /Decepticon/ because he never was very smart. "Blast Off, go stand outside and try to look like you aren't a criminal or something."

Slugfest is holding the leaking leg of a drone between two front feet and gnawing at a few protruding wires like he's teething.

Grimlock gives Rodimus a sour look, but at least he's one of the few bots who could reasonably be put on Fortress Maximus Restraining Duty. "Hey 'Warden.' Chill out." He steps up to basically wrassle Max down to the ground. Enough of that. He takes more than few hits in the process. Ow.

Blast Off is watching Maximus like a turbo-hawk, and sure enough the Autobot makes a lunge at him *despite* everything. HEATHENS. RUFFIANS. AUTOFOOLS. He tenses, leaping back and beginning to bring his weapon up and ready to shoot even as he's trying to dodge out of the way. The outraged *hufff* only increases in volume, especially at Rodimus' comment. It also earns another glare (he's getting good at that, too). "A *what? Is that what you think of..." HUFFFFFFFFF. Smelt it all, he's not even going to bother anymore. "Fine. I'll be outside," he mutters, rolling his shoulders with a haughty attempt at deteached aloofitude.... even as he is still trying to sidestep the huge Autobot lunging his way and make some kind of graceful exit.

Outside, Blast Off is the one to notice one very important detail: their ship is gone. (He might want to report that back ASAP.)

Blast Off does INDEED notice that. And he's sorely tempted to just shrug his shoulders and FLY OFF without a WORD because, you know, SPACE SHUTTLE. But wait... there's that whole matter of FUEL. Darn. Another huff and he steps back inside. "I'm sure you'll find a way to blame /this/ on me too, but... the ship is gone." If they say anything about using him as a transport he will NOT look pleased. He most certainly doesn't mention that possibility on his own right now. Primus forbid THAT idea.

Maximus ignore's Rodimus' correction of his name, as well as his urges to 'chill out'. Seriously, Hot Rod just doesn't get it. He just woke up out of a coma and the last thing he remembers is being tortured by a psychopath Decepticon. So yeah, he hates Decepticons. A lot. Especially ones he's been up against in the past such as -Blast Off- and his cursed Combaticon teammates.

"Argh! Get off of me!" he wrestles against Grimlock, but despite his own significant strength level the Dinobot manages to restrain him. At this point, he notices Slugfest. -Another- Decepticon?! Good Primus! "This is disgusting, how can you -trust- those filthy glitcheads?!" A litany of Cybertronian profanities follows.

...Yeah. This isn't going to be easy.

Slugfest scampers up to Fortress Maximus, drops the drone leg right in front of him, and wags his thagomizer politely.

Slugfest noses the leg towards him.

Ugh, is that not one of Soundwave's? "...don't tell me you've decided to trust -Soundwave-, too."

"Of course it is." Rodimus pinches the bridge of his nose.

"About that--." Drift steps forward, his hands on the swords at his hips, and gives a calming sort of smile. "So is ours."

Rodimus throws his hands in the air. "Of course it is! Decepticons, outside! Blast Off, take Slugfest and scout for them. Don't engage with any enemies you might find. I've got a few things to explain to Max, here." And that is definitely going to take a while. He makes no move to get Grimlock to release Fort Max, but only arches an eyebrow at him. "Grimlock's letting go when you settle down, and if you don't, I've got a whole team of medics--" He gestures at Ratchet, Pharma, First Aid, and Ambulon. "--who will put you back under." Ratchet looks mad; Pharma looks thoughtful; First Aid looks scandalized; Ambulon looks ... chipped. But none of them argue with Rodimus in the tense moment. "Now, it all began--." Explaining the end of the war is going to take a while.

blog comments powered by Disqus