2016-04-17 Elita's Missing Team

From Transformers: Lost and Found

Elita's Missing Team
Date 2016/04/17
Location Lost Light: Docks and Storage -- Shuttle Bay
Participants Air Raid, Blast Off, Grimlock, Jumpstart, Pipes, Rodimus, Tailgate, Vortex, Windrose
NPCs Elita One
Plot Colony: Eukaris
Scene GM Sao
Summary Elita One asks the Lost Light for help rescuing her lost team of non-warriors on Eukaris.

The four shuttle bays accommodate one of the ship's four shuttles in each bay. The first bay is dominated by the Rodpod. Yes, it really does look like Rodimus's head. No, you can't take it out for the joy ride. Easily the fastest of the shuttles, it is also the smallest. The second (O Fortuna) and third bay contains shuttles which are slightly slower, yet not so large as the shuttle in the last. The last bay contains the Scout Ship "The Leading Light" which can carry a hundred without difficulty.

Very shortly after the Lost Light's firing quantum engine has brought her to this solar system in broad orbit of the shining yellow-white sun, Blaster reports picking up a distress call using a wide band signal and an outdated but recognizably Cybertronian code. After fielding the initial distress call and a quick encrypted back and forth with the crew of another ship in orbit around the brilliant green and blue marble of the lost colony of Eukaris, a diplomatic team has been launched from the other ship to float in a swift line for the docking bay -- and naturally, the news has spread through the Lost Light at the speed of rumor.

Pipes hears rumors. Pipes likes rumors. So, even though he wasn't formally asked to attend the arrival of these diplomats, he assured himself that no one would mind extra personnel in attendance to make a good impression. Curiosity has nothing to do with it, nothing. He makes his way to the shuttle bay, looking like this is totally what he's supposed to be doing, and takes an official-looking position along a back wall, standing at attention. Sort of.

Air Raid can't ignore the siren's call of new and possibly dangerous encounters with strangers, so here he is, taking up a position next to Pipes. His rifle rests casually against his shoulder, one hand on a hip as he watches the shuttle bay entrance.

Jumpstart is not in the landing bay because of any rumors. No, she's shirking. That is, the birdformer has made a conscious effort to avoid the less than cleanly task of helping the rest of the maintenance department rebuild the oil baths and has instead drawn an assignment in the shuttle bay fiddling with things that aren't really broken but that could be "optimized." Not that Jumpstart decides to stop what she's doing because of the impending arrival of the delegation; she instead watches the other members of the crew trickle in with some interest.

Grimlock tromptromptromps into the shuttle bay. Seeing as of how this is a 'diplomatic' encounter, he's at least keeping his weapons holstered- then again, given Grimlock's size, and propensity to transform into a toothy engine of fire-breathing destruction, that's not saying much. He takes a moment to grunt in the direction of Pipes and Air Raid, and then nods a little towards the other end of the shuttle bay. A proper solider might be able to take the unvoiced cue to take up a flanking position ... you know, just in case. Jury's still out on what those two Autobots will think up.

It really doesn't take long for word to travel around this ship. Potential new visitors gets the better of one's curiosity so Windrose has followed the rest of the gathering mechs to see for herself. That and it's always handy to have some Navagation officers around in case things like directions or so forth come up.... But really just out of curiosity.

Tailgate, as a member of command, has a required presence for these sorts of things. He's here waiting alongside the others in charge, with his head angled at the doors from the rest of the ship, curious about who is going to show when the word spreads. Some of them he definitely expects to show up.

Pipes nods to Air Raid as he arrives, and then to Grimlock in response to his grunt-greeting. But who's the dino nodding to? There's no one there, unless Mirage is on board.

Vortex is eager to do something. Anything, in fact. Its funny how boring life could get once you cannibalize someone's eyes- on accident! 'Probation' was ridiculously boring too and not badass at all either. But this! The news of arrivals sounds like, well... Something to do! Something that could be fun! So he arrives at the landing bay, absolutely tittering with curiosity. His rotors spin idly as he looks around, trying to find someone familiar to sidle up next to. Nope, nope, no... Definitly not next to Grimlock. Just avoid him... Ah! Them! He bounces on over, sidling up next to Windrose and giving her hips a bump with his. It's how one should always greet another's suite-mate.

Air Raid promptly moves as Grimlock silently instructs. He's damn used to nonverbal cues by now. "Look alive," he says to Jumpstart as he crosses her path.

Well, if the other ship is sending their most diplomatic, obviously the Lost Light must do the same, thus -- Air Raid, Grimlock, and ... Rodimus. ...Maybe the rest will be enough to temper the hotheads.

Rodimus bounds in, skidding to a stop, and checks to make sure the others haven't arrived before folding himself upright in his best Captainly pose. He leans to the side the better to his at Tailgate: "Any bets on what the problem is?"

"What does that even mean?" Jumpstart replies to Air Raid. "Soldiers have been barking it at me for a million years and I'm no closer to figuring it out." She pauses before glancing to the end of the landing pad, headfeathers flaring. "If something awful comes our way I'll just dive behind the nearest shuttle and hope for the best."

The docking bay takes on a small shuttle of clean angles and neat, spare lines, connecting to the Lost Light's airlock almost gently with a low hiss. There's a faint puff of misty air as some condensation levels don't match exactly. Emerging from the shuttle in a spill of pale light are two large bots: a matched pair in their paint of predominantly white, though one is white and gold and the other is white and blue. They otherwise look substantially similar to each other, and step forward with also matched grim and serious expressions to take up classic guard positions to either side of the entrance ramp.

Grimlock gives a bit of an approving grunt as Air Raid moves into position. Grimlock in turn moves to step next to Rodimus- content to let the 'captain' do the negotiating for now. "Can't be that desperate, if they're sending color-matched honor guard." Grimlock rumbles, and sizes each of the big bots up in turn. He could take 'em. Then again, that's his assessment of pretty much everybody.

"Um... pirates?" Tailgate ventures up at Rodimus, considering. "Actually, I have no idea. That's a dumb guess." The minibot crosses his arms and plants his feet as the ship docks. He puts on a tough look, but his relaxed posture speaks otherwise for now. Optics light behind his visor at the twin guards.

"It means-" Air Raid doesn't get to explain to the birb, abruptly straightening as the shuttle lands. "It means shut up," he hisses, turning to focus on the guards. Well they're not immediately attacking so that's good.

Ohhh, that's what Grimlock meant, Pipes thinks. Can't just say it, I guess. Good thing Air Raid took the hint. He watches the shuttle alight on the deck and the sentries take up position. He glances at Air Raid, then back to the shuttle and waits.

Windrose shifts her position a bit so she doesn't have her view blocked by the big hulks present like Grimlock... Or just tall people like Rodimus. Which means she probably ends standing closer to the smols. Though considering Pipes and Tailgate are also part of the guard detail she wisely stays behind them. But at least they're bots she can see over! "Oh, more twins. Are we doing the couples thing agai--" Then they prove to just be guards. "--never mind."

Speaking of cooler heads, or at least someone who wants you to think of him as having one, Blast Off is here as well. Not because of the new arrivals, though some of the shuttle's old explorer curiosity does make him wonder just who these people are. Again, though, he wouldn't want you to know it. No, the main reason he is here is because he just so happened to be grabbing some spare shuttle parts for himself when he spots the crowd and Vortex IN the crowd. Wearing a slight frown now under his faceplate, he pauses to watch the proceedings. And ignore Air Raid while he's at it.

SOMETHING WAS HAPPENING! Not a drill, not a drill! Vortex can hear his rotors spinning faster at the anticipation. Oh, look at them. Big, broad. So serious. "Anyone think the whole matchy-match thing is a little hot?" He says quietly to himself. Mostly to quietly. Kinda to himself. Why are they standing there? Guarding, obviously but what or who were they guarding?

Rodimus studies the color-matched guard with shining appreciation -- and, let's be real, naked envy. He turns to look at Tailgate, sizing him up as well as Grimlock and the other members of the combat division. "Say," he begins thoughtfully. Then he considers the response. "Never mind."

Windrose promptly puts her hand to her face briefly when she hears Vortex from somewhere in the gathering. She is not roomie-sitting, go deal with your Combatibro Blast Off.

The bot who finally makes their way through the mist and down the ramp in after the twin guards take up their posts is not the most remarkable, just from a visual standpoint. Their -- /her/ -- paint is mostly shades of pink, with some white accents on her face and other places throughout her frame. She's perhaps of a height with Rodimus, which marks her size as fairly average. Vivid blue optics scan the crowd, and there's a moment of hesitation. "Thank you," are her first words, earnest and heartfelt. She clearly searches for whom she should be speaking to more specifically, and her gaze catches, perhaps inevitably, on the drama of Rodimus's paint job, as if it marks his authority. "Thank you," she says again. "I've been hoping -- praying -- for someone to hear our call."

Grimlock hmms, and crosses his arms across his broad chest. The facepainted femme is appraised briefly, almost dismissively. Either these mechs really -are- in trouble, or they've sent a really good actor. He glances down (and down, and down) at Tailgate for a moment, as if to get the 'security' advisor's assessment. Where's Nightbeat when you need him?

Both of the guards brace to attention as she steps past them. They seem highly attentive, both of their gazes sliding across the scatter of bots in the room with the speculative interest of, you might say, threat assessors.

Jumpstart smirks slightly at Air Raid's return quip, such as it is. When the shuttle lands and the various bots emerge Jumpstart straightens a little, as if she does want to show off the best side possible. "She seems nice." The beastformer remarks to Air Raid.

Tailgate and Grimlock as flanking guard makes for an odd picture, but at least they seem to carry themselves right. The minibot is inspecting the femme that disembarks from the ship when Grimlock peers down to him; he answers with a glance upward, though when he looks away from Grim, it is at the guards at attention. He does a fair job of looking between them and the hulking Dinobot, marking them to watch. As the stranger speaks, Tailgate listens.

"It was luck, mostly." Tailgate doesn't know about divine intervention or anything like that, though. "Are you colonists?"

Pipes watches the apparent leader of the delegation descend the ramp. His own opinion matches Jumpstarts, and he relaxes a little despite the sweeping gazes of the sentries. He sees Windrose nearby, and whispers, "What do you think?"

Blast Off sighs a soft little sigh that no one else likely hears, debating whether he should go keep his teammate from getting himself in trouble again or not. Has Vortex learned his lesson after biting Whirl's optic off and spending time in the brig?


HAHAHA, OK probably not. Still, there's the whole *aloof* thing he likes to do and so far those guards' gaze haven't latched onto the rotary so for now Blast off will remain blissfully aloof and noncommital.

Air Raid is faintly aware of Blast Off, but again, his attention is pulled back to the pink bot that speaks up. His optics drift back to Grimlock as Jumpstart comments. If the beastformer is going to linger at his slightly distant post, he'll converse, albeit quietly. "They all seem nice." There you go Jumpstart, enjoy that gold nugget of wisdom.

Windrose watches the femme who's apparently in charge walk out of the ship. Nice colors. Or maybe she's just slightly biased. 'Lavander' is just a darker shade between pink and violet after all. When Pipes speaks up she glances over for a moment, and keeps her voice down so it doesn't disrupt whatever conversation starts up between command and the arrivals. "Hard to say until they say what they need help for. Doesn't look like they've been in any major fighting though...."

Grimlock takes in Tailgate's assessment- and then he steps forward, trying not to loooom so much over the diplomat. "I'm Grimlock." he grunts, and even uncrosses his arms so he can offer a minibot-sized hand to the pink femme to shake. "Tell us what your problem is."

"That's definitely us," says Rodimus, stepping forward. "The answer to hopes and prayers." He gestures at the crew to either side: Tailgate, hopes. Grimlock, prayers. What kind of terrible prayers are people sending up, anyway?

"I'm Rodimus, and this is the crew of the Lost Light. Tailgate is in charge of security--" Look at him all ... secure. "--and Grimlock heads our combat division." That one, at least, makes sense. Rodimus looks at their visitor, her guards, and the ship beyond. "What's the problem?"

The reveal was... Anti-climatic. Just a femme. Nothing all to notable besides that. Well, pink too but Arcee is pink and it's not even a big deal. He moves closer to his roomie, listening in on her and Pipes as well as watching the... Diplomat team? Vortex makes a derisive snort at the idea of Grimlock being a diplomat. Divine comedy, right there. He almost wants to place a bet on how fast Grimlock bumbles this meeting. Where's Swindle when you need him. He goes up on his toes to see a bit better as Rodimus speaks. Vortex is hoping and praying that the problem is exciting.

"Colonists? Do you mean--" The pink fembot's gaze travels between the three command staff, and then the rest of the gathered crew beyond. "Of course. You're -- You're from /Cybertron/." She says it with a vast interest that almost becomes wonder. "My crew and I are here on a diplomatic mission to make contact with the people of Eukaris. A team went planetside, but we've lost communications with them. I fear we lack the resources to recover them if the danger is truly dire. We're not -- warriors." She hesitates, almost embarrassed, and then seems to remember herself. "I am the commander of our ship. My name," she says, "is Elita One."

Grimlock takes in Elita's explanation, and then steps back, crossing his arms across his chest again. The two big escorts get a somewhat appraising look as 'Not Warriors' is mentioned, but still. "Lucky for you, we--" Grimlock pauses, and looks around the room. "--some of us," he amends, "-are warriors. Hn. How long have your people been missing?" Grimlock's tone is blunt but even ... but then again, even a 'rescue' mission would be a chance to break stuff, which is always fun.

Jumpstart folds her arms as she listens to Elita and the introductions from their side. "I have to admit." She remarks idly to Air Raid. "It's a bit...refreshing to find someone out here who actually seems to appreciate running into Cybertronians." Jumpstart taps a finger against her upper arm. "Do you think that's her name or her title?"

"Nice to meet you. Yep, that's us." Tailgate waves one hand when Rodimus mentions him by name. "So we're both here to get to Eukaris. That's something lucky too." He glances up to the others behind him and back to Elita One. "Whatever intelligence you have would be useful too. Even though not everyone on our ship is a warrior, we have some sharp minds!"

"I guess they haven't, especially if they aren't warriors," Pipes says quietly to Windrose. He looks at those sentries again; maybe that's all they have, although Elita One herself doesn't look near helpless. Negotiations continue, so Pipes just stays put and listens.

Don't come over here don't come over here... Oh slag Vortex is coming over here. Windrose vents slowly to keep from tensing up, and just hopes to herself that Vortex doesn't do something they're all going to regret later. Instead she focuses on the exchange, shifting a bit when they mention missing people on the colony. Okay, so these people didn't come from the colony, they were already here to investigate it. That's not what they were expecting. She wants to point out they also have plenty of scouts and explorers that would be able to help with finding missing people, but doesn't want to butt into the discussion. Instead she comments back to Pipes, "They look tough, but guards aren't necessarily soldiers."

Rodimus preens under the interest, the almost wonder. Yes, they are awesome. "That's our mission, too!" It's close enough to accurate. "We'll do whatever we can to recover your team. We planned to send our own. What can you tell us?"

"Wooo-!" Vortex very nearly throws his arms in the air but air but quickly both silences himself and keeps his hands down. Right, serious matter. Very serious. But hey, warriors needed on a possibly very dangerous rescue mission? Hot damn, that sounds so much more fun than staying here. He leans in even close to Windrose and Pipes. "I love body recovery. It's like playing coroner but with more action." He whispers, tittering happily at all the new prospects of the situation.

Air Raid keeps his gaze hard, one hand testing the weight of his rifle. Jumpstart introduces a thought that he hadn't considered, at least not in a long while. Hey, yeah, everyone /does/ hate Cybertronians. And these don't. "Hmm," is all Jumpstart gets. But then she muses on a title and it prompts him to comment further, "Maybe there are multiple Elitas."

"Oh, that would make sense." Jumpstart replies to Air Raid. "I means, she's Elita One. Which would stand to reason there's an Elita Two. Maybe the ones flanking her are...Elita 45 and Elita 97." The beastformer frowns. "That would be really depressing, now that I think about it. Then again, just because there's Optimus Prime doesn't mean there's Optimus Secondary or Optimus Tertiary." Jumpstart pauses. "We'll just have to wait for the sentries to introduce themselves." Who cares about saving people.

Blast Off 's hand twitches as he begins to feel the urge to facepalm at Vortex. Slowly, /aloofly/, he begins making his way towards his teammate while trying to not let it look deliberate or anything. His gaze sweeps over this Elita-One and her guards, looking for evidence of gunpowder, laser burns, anything. Cybertronian-like, out here in a very hostile universe, but not warriors? At all? Mmhmm.

Pipes tilts his head in agreement with Windrose, but jerks it to the side at Vortex's comments. "Body recovery? What makes you think something bad happened to them? Maybe their comms went out for some ... reason ..." and Pipes can't even kid himself, so he just sighs.

Elita's guards both look smooth and polished. There's no signs that either have been in a recent firefight. Both are armed, although it looks like neither have on board, inbuilt weaponry. Each carries hand-held weapons. The white and gold one has tow truck kibble and a pair of long-bladed but almost ceremonial-looking or decorative knives. The white and blue one has the slightly heavier look of an armored truck about their frame, and a heavy blue shield worn on their back. Both look remarkably stoic.

"I have the transmissions we received from the leader of my away team. She was meant to make contact and report back, but we stopped receiving communications from them before they were able to make contact." Elita's gaze jerks to the other Lost Light crew members speculating behind the command staff. "I am -- the only Elita that I know of. It is a name, nothing more." She pulls out a handheld device and holds it in her palm; after a moment, it alights into a rectangular display with a recorded message.

Okay, enough of that. Windrose does finally give Vortex a jab in the side with her elbow, though moreso that he's making Pipes uncomfortable. She can't deny that he might not be wrong. "This is a first contact meeting, -try- to not be so morbid," she hisses sharply at the other heli. "That's not the sort of thing to bring up in conversation even if it is relevant."

Air Raid follows along with Jumpstart's logic, readily getting roped into it. Yes, this makes sense. Yes, let's see if the guards intro- "What the frag, cut it out!" he huffs at Jumpstart. "Do I look dumb to you!" He's /trying/ to keep his voice down. What's up with these dang animalformers. Then Elita apparently overhears them. Air Raid fights the intense urge to elbow Jumpstart in the side.

Grimlock gives another "Hm." As Elita goes on- and then Grimlock leans over Elita as she holds out the holographic message, curious to get any clues on to just what the hell he's no doubt going to be leaping into. The various bickering and theorizing going on in the back row goes ignored ... for now, at least. Grim's got better stuff to worry about!

No elbowing needed. Jumpstart's headfeathers flatten against her helm and she tries to shrink inside of the rest of her body. Unsuccessfully, of course, but that's the impression one would get.

"Before?" Tailgate could understand if they landed and weren't able to get back, but-- "That seems strange. Do you even know if they made it to the surface?" The minibot stands straighter as the femme pulls free a recorder, his visor widening at it curiously when it lights the display.

Vortex almost laughs. "Nice one, short stack." He tells Pipes. Just their communications are down, hilarious. The grin beneath his mask grows as Elita-One speaks. "Rosy, it's relevant if they're dead. And they totally are, did you just hear her? Not warriors, failing to make first contact..." He tsks at nothing and then tsks at Raid and Jumpstart. Heh, they got in trouble.

The message fuzzes to life in a spitting hiss of static. Snowy fuzz surrounds the strong features of a bot with the kind of jawline that could be used as a battering ram. Her paint is a warm dusky orange. Her optics are a blaze of brilliant blue, fierce and intense in the flashes of the transmission where her face is visible. Her voice is a deep, smoky contralto, lit with fierce tension. "--ommander--" Fuzz fuzz static. "--rent. Under attack--" Static fuzz spit. "Locals are beyond their--" Spit static fuzz. "--repeat, render all assistance--" Static, static, fuzz. "--must be fragging hundreds--" Static. Static. Nothing left but snow.

"That's a start!" Rodimus seems powered by determined optimism -- not cheerful, but forceful as if he can override that back row chatter about body retrieval. He, like the others, leans to study the message. "Can we have a copy of that? See if we can do anything about getting more out of the message? Do you have a location? It sounds like we'll need to move quickly to help."

Alright, no obvious signs that the guards are lying, then. Blast Off is a suspicious sort and tends to expect pretty much everyone who lives for long out here in the cosmos has to be able to defend themselves one way or another, but for now... fine. The radio message is listened to briefly. He then gives Air Raid and Jumpstart a look, like, *really*? I'm surrounded by plebeians, and mutters a soft "Yes," to Air Raid's question before turning to give Vortex a similar look.

Grimlock stands up to his full height again, and looks over at Rodimus. "Hundreds." He grumbles. That's never a good sign. Not that he couldn't fight a small army singlehandedly, but sometimes he's got other 'bots to worry about. Grimlock flexes his fingers a bit, and then hms. "What about orbital recon?" And Grimlock turns back to look the rest of the bay over- and his visor settles on Blast off. A Volunteer!

"Yes, of course. You may have this one; we still have records on our ship." Elita One holds out the device to Rodimus. "Any assistance with clearing up the message would be greatly appreciated. And yes -- they did make landfall. And I guess -- contact of a sort." She does not lose her composure, but there's a clear ache of concern in her gaze as she speaks of her missing crew. "Thank you. That you would so readily take this on to help us--" Her gaze squares on Rodimus. "Thank you. We can give you all the records of our scans and reconaissance."

Windrose continues to glower a bit at Vortex... but when the message playback seems to suggest he might not be wrong after all she can't really snap much more at him. At least not without causing a public scene, and they definitely do not want that. Oi vey. This is followed by shifting her gaze to give Blast Off a more sympathetic look. How did you put up with this for so long? With a soft apology to Pipes (for leaving him with Vortex and Blast Off? Maybe) the femme sidesteps the smaller mech and moves closer to the front of the group. If this exploration is going to turn into a rescue mission she wants to be sure she gets every detail. Sounds like Elita is offering information quite readily though.

Pipes overhears the transmission replay and his spark sinks a little. "You may be right this time, Tex," he grumbles as quietly as he can. Not warriors plus hundreds of hostiles has a kind of obvious outcome. He watches Windrose move up to hear more, but continues to Vortex and Blast Off, "They seem very friendly, though. We should help them out. At the very least, for letting us know what's down there." Although he realizes this probably means shooting at the colonists. Hardly welcoming.

Air Raid can't help but smirk at flattening feathers, but his expression turns grim again as Elita speaks. This is serious! He doesn't grace Blast Off's small jab with a glare, just some unsatisfying sigh.

Tailgate doesn't say it-- he knows that this looks very bad for them. His visor sinks a little, the lights of his optics roaming from Grimlock to where he's looking at Blast Off. "Grim's right. Staying high and fast is our best bet. Can send down some of our fast fliers too."

Blast Off crosses his arms, the better to keep lording over both Vortex and Air Raid with his undeniable magnificence when...wait, what? He blinks, his arms suddenly uncrossing slightly before crossing again by sheer determination as he looks back to Grimlock. And stares a moment before glancing behind him just in case.... nope. Guess that means him. A crack of uncertainly chisels into the veneer of smug sophisticated superiority as his gaze returns to the Dynobot, optic ridges twitching once. "Well... I..."

He pauses only to glance at Windrose (I know right? And he's had to deal with his comnbatibrother for millions of years... no wonder he took to drinking a lot of wine). Then Pipes. "Well.... Maybe. I am busy, though. I have things to do."

Hundreds. Did a shiver just run up his spine? Yes, yes it did. He doesn't even give Blast Off a glance, far too sucked into watching Elita-One and that rag-tag Diplomat team. "Yeah, definitely. We should go down there and help them." He whole-heartedly agrees with Pipes. And if they get to dismember a few other things along the way... Well, he certainly doesn't want to deny fate that outcome. When his fellow Combaticon speaks, he looks up at him. "Liar~" Vortex chastises quietly so only Blast Off could hear.

"We'll do whatever we can. Our communications crew is great with this kind of stuff," Rodimus says as he takes the device. He seconds Grimlock's suggestion with a nod, and turns to find Blast Off stalling. His expression firms. "There are people down there that need our help, Blast Off. Whatever we had to do, this comes first."

"That's the spirit, Vortex!" Pipes whisper-cheers. He's about to plead with Blast Off when the Captain's gentle rebuke arrives, so instead he just rocks on his heels in satisfaction.

Grimlock would smirk, had he a mouth in this mode. "Aren't you always going on about how you like it better in deep space anyway?" He grunts at Blast Off. This done, Grimlock looks down at Rodimus. "Should be a simple op. Do an orbital recon run to find the center of activity, then send a heavy strike force to kick down doors and get answers. Withdraw before the whole army can react." Standard Dynobot protocol. Shame that Swoop and Company aren't on board, but Grimlock will have to make do. If he's lucky he might be able to bring Arcee or Breakdown along. They're properly killy.

Windrose refrains from rolling her optics at the exchanges going on behind her. Blast Off is busy shulking from being pinned down to do orbital recon, so she just takes it upon herself to get appropriate department business out of the way. She ahems softly, holding a fist to her mouth briefly. "Excuse me. Captain Rodimus? Shall I have Navigation prepare to shift our orbit of the system to make an appropriate deployment synchronization with Eukaris?" Sounds like the sooner they get things in order and get down there, the better.

Blast Off makes a little staccato noise of protest in his throat at Vortex. "I do NOT lie," he mutters back, "That would be unsophisticated. I just ...uh... I do SO have many important things to do like.. uh...." Then Rodimus spares him from having to make up what those are. He opens his mouth to attempt to find an excuse anyway, but then Grimlock hits him right in the space shuttle pride. Ouch. The shuttleformer draws up, arms dropping down, jaw firming under his faceplate, giving Windrose a look as he does so. "Very well. I will have to reschedule the numerous important tasks I was about to get to, however." Once he makes them up, that is.

Vortex snickers. "Right, right. Very important tasks, like picking your ego off the floor." He teases Blast Off as he's hit with the one-two punch of Rodimus and Grimlock. His comment was more like a shank in the side. Effective. Then Grimlock and the Captain hold his interest. Strike force! He wants to be on that. He has to be on that. Hopefully they took volunteers.

"It is so very appreciated, of course," Elita says, squaring a grateful smile on Blast Off when he agrees to his involvement. "I know you are all crew and follow your captain's commands, but I must thank any and all of you who are planning to assist. Whether or not you are simply following the orders of your commanders, those are my crew, and every single bot on your crew has my gratitude."

Rodimus hesitates just slightly before answering Windrose, possibly to translate all of those syllables into something ... shorter. He gets the point: "Yeah, get started." He passes Elita's device off, as well, adding, "And take that to Blaster to see if he can get anything more out of it, would you?" He looks back at Grimlock, failing to suppress a quick and eager grin. "Sounds good to me." He sobers to face Elita and says, "As we're gathering information and prepping our team, would you like to join us? There may be other information you can provide that will help."

Grimlock, having 'acquired' orbital support, turns his attention back to Elita One, and nods in agreement with Rodimus. "He's right. It'll help if your people see a friendly face coming to get them, instead of mine."

This is why Grimlock is the Combat leader. Tailgate will agree to whatever he decides, in the end. It's good to have someone like him on board. Otherwise, who knows how a drop might go? "I've seen worse." The minibot asides up at Grimlock, a moment of levity for effect.

Windrose accepts the recorder in one hand, and gives Rodimus a quick salute with the other. "Right away." She was being professional about it, before turning sharply on her heels and making a crisp pace for the shuttle bay exit. Thankfully she can be professional without being all rigid like some very strict members of the crew are. Really she's too eager to help to be that solemn about it, much the same way she focused that eagerness on the search for Tailgate. This was important and it had to be handled both swiftly and efficiently.

Not that it stops her from grabbing Blast Off by an arm on her way. "Com'n, you should probably look at the scans before going out too." Or maybe she's trying to give the fellow Altihexian a way away from the scrutinizing looks. Possibly both, since he -is- also Navigation crew.

Jumpstart inches forward just slightly as Elita One speaks, and she seems quite easy to listen to. Headfeathers slowly recovering from the public shaming earlier, she looks between the principals, the main players. Now that the main introductions seem over, she remarks to Air Raid, quietly: "Have you ever been to one of these colonies, Air Raid?"

Pipes listens to the plan unfold. Sounds good. Elita One really does sound like a nice bot, it'll feel great to help her out. He also watches impressed as Windrose moves out so dutifully, with Blast Off in tow, no less, if the shuttleformer allows it. That just leaves him and Vortex. Oh. He tries to stand at attention again.

Air Raid finally stands a parade rest and subspaces his weapon. Boss-dino looks convinced enough. "You mean on the ground team?" he asks Jumpstart, seeing as they've visited a decent number. "When they let me, sure. Maybe you'll be permitted." He looks over. "We dismissed?" he asks Grimlock from afar.

Blast Off shoots Vortex a *look* at that, fists balling up briefly, vents emitting a soft huff, before he releases it and straightens once more. "Just remember to *stay focused* down there, Vortex." By the time Elita speaks to him, he's mustered his shuttle pride again and gives her a short, professional nod. Though as she goes on and on and on (or so it seems to him) about doing things just because he's following commands, that does bring about a teeny tiny optic twitch. "We observe the command structure, though we do so because we *choose* to." Just so that's clear.

Windrose suddenly grabs an arm and the sudden contact make him give a reflexive jerking motion away as his intakes suck air rapidly. Nothing like the slap like poor Skystalker got, but then again the circumstances are not as bad as they were then. Still, he doesn't like being touched. Violet optics pale and flicker as they settle on the femme and he relaxes more again. "Uh... Well, yes. That would- probably be wise."

"Of course," Elita says, quick and ready, to Rodimus's query. "I'll offer whatever further help and information I can." She turns back to Blast Off, her smile gentle. "I know," she tells him. "That is why you have every bit of my gratitude."

Grimlock hnmns, and finally decides he's done enough here. "I'm gonna go get ready for the landing." Grimlock rumbles- and with that said, he tromps out of the cargo bay, giving Air Raid a mildly dismissive gesture as he passes!

Windrose 's pace is swift enough she gets two steps before Blast Off jerks away again, so yanking his arm free doesn't knock her over or anything. She stops when she notices the shuttleformer stopped and turns back, looking apologetic. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you! But this is kind of important and time sensitive."

As coordinated effort begins between Elita One and the bold rescuers of the Lost Light, Eukaris gleams below, not without the brilliant energy of an electrically galvanized civilization, but with the raw promise of sheer vastness and many things green and growing: an idyll aggressively biological and alien in its earthy form.

Whatever threat there is, it's invisible from this distance.

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