Dr Sixarp, or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Xenocybernetic Killing Machine

Who: Dr Sixarp, Blueshift, Homunculus, Scrapper, Soundwave, Paradigm, Scattershot, Lee-Zard, Broadside, Wheelie, Bluestreak, Quickswitch, Fusillade, Sixshot, Redshift
IC Year: 2028
Location: Nothoth
TP: Non-TP


Summary: The vile galactic war criminal Dr Sixarp invites the Autobots and Decepticons to his secret bunker to bid for weapons of mass destruction. But he has an even eviller scheme up his sleeve...


Five Hundred Years On - Galactic News

Galactic News Journal, Issue 2x45^5

Can it really be five hundred solar years since the Fifth Galactic War ended? Certainly today's remebrance ceremony presided over by Nespa's very own Graff Vynda K would seem to indicate as such. Five hundred solar years since the brutal conflict that started on the planet Sisong span out of control and engulfed half the civilised worlds of Mutter's Spiral.

Can anyone forget the shelters where we cowered during Mageddon Cascade attacks. The star Quaquod imploding from the effects of a Sevenfold Crown? Or even the vile Admiral Kang's personal warship, The Iron Gauntlet, shaped like a gigantic hand, which literally crushed planets in its fist.

Of course, for some races, five hundred solar years is a long time. For others, it is the blink of an eye. But no-one should forget that even though Kang is long dead, his inner circle, known as The Sisong Seven are still out there, hiding from their war crimes amongst the stars.

Can we forget? Can we forget the vile Magnus Greel, Minister of Justice who together with his Peking Homunculus caused the deaths of untold thousands. Memories of the geneticist Sorvad whose twisted experiments into biology caused untold pain to thousands, and whose bioweapons killed billions more. And of Doctor Sixarp, whose name lives on in infamy as one of the most twisted weapons developers to ever walk the Spiral. His legacy still lives on, be it from the now sadly inverted world of Betafarl, or Crandor, where the inhabitants are still partly cybernetic as a result of his experiments.

Wherever they are, if they still live, they must be brought to justice. Because even if they can dismiss or forget their crimes, we cannot.

Decepticon Start!

NCC Medical Ward

Like its previous incarnation, this medical ward was designed with the medic in mind, with all the modern advances to make the dirty work of repairs a world easier. It is well lit, the blue and violet metal of the walls and decor is a shade paler here, and the ubiquitous filigree is missing, all to assist in ease of cleaning. Still, the place veritably sparkles. In the furniture, there is a subtle motif of blades and sharp edges, as if to evoke the scalpel of a surgeon, although it is all quite safe. Around two dozen beds, more comfortable than their sharp looks would suggest, fill the medical ward, laid out in a tidy grid, and more can be flipped out of the walls should emergency demand it. A set of tracks on the ceiling mirror the grid of beds, allowing advanced scanning equipment and tolls to be swiveled around to the various beds. Computer terminals and cabinets are molded right into the walls at intervals, and while there are the normal medical security cameras, it appears as if someone has set some of the cameras specifically to watch the cabinets.

Shockwave would frown if he had a face. Granted overclocking is good in gaining short term boost but it tends to wear out over time and prolonged use. "You are correct Scrapper. He is also aware that prolonged overclocking is not advisable?"

Sixshot visibly relaxed, as if he'd been fighting on some subconcious level being trussed up. His head lowered to a resting position, optics still bright, but noticably fixed. Immobilized, Sixshot would still be able to offer a comment when he felt it necessary, though he was willing to allow graciously Fusillade her due there. That Shockwave might participate was unexpected, and Scrapper's explanation for it was at the same time...unsettling. When in battle you could only get killed, threatning his higher functions was saying he could turn out like Blueshift. He'd rather be dead.

Scrapper nods to his cycloptic comrade. "Yes, but try telling a warrior the dangers inherent with upgrades and they'll still want the upgrade. The lure of power is just too strong for them." Taking out a laser screwdriver (who'd have sonic?), Scrapper steps up to Sixshot. With the one-mech-army hanging from the ceiling, the spot in Sixshot's chest where he needs to operate is at a perfect level for Scrapper. Whatever he's doing is too precise to really be seen, but the occasional flicker of the screwdriver shows that he is doing _something_ or other.

And speaking of the awesome guy known as Blueshift, he enters the medbay, large as life, with a large metal ball stuck to his head. He looks about expectantly. "Has... has anyone seen any sweeps guys?"

More whirs and clicks surround the pod that is effectively melded into the corner, the glow in the optical units growing steadily brighter as her energon systems flood dormant non-critical systems. There's a subtle shift in her positioning as Symphony's mobility systems unlock from standby mode, analysis systems run through status checks internally as the optical pods swivel and assess the individual occupants - Scrapper, Scavenger, Shockwave, Fusillade, Sixshot. Initially these names mean nothing as pathways are re-initialized, information floods from storage into her flowing mind and the status checks return all green, and thus a soft scratching is heard as she disconnects herself from her perch, dropping to the floor and landing on extended spidery limbs with a soft clink.

If Sixshot hadn't been aware before, he sure was now! He was right there, but being referenced as if he were not-- a typical engineer trait. He'd long gone from being another Decepticon, but more like a challenge. "I'm willing to accept the risk if the situation demands it. Power or no, what speaks for itself is results." He answered even if not directly asked. His voice was oddly detached.

"No... no Sweeps..." Scrapper says absentmindedly. Almost all of his attention is on the work. All joking aside, he -does- take this surgery attempt seriously, and is doing his best to make sure Sixshot's head doesn't explode. "Your vision might go a little bit blurry, Sixshot, as I speed up your the clock rate of your TPU." Targetting Processing Unit, obviously. By increments, Scrapper does just that, slowly increasing the rate.

"Naw, you're good for now, Blueshift," Fusillade waves the fugitive in, although her citrine optics are agleam with miscief in Sixshot's direction. Granted, the next time she's in for physical upgrades to her alt mode, there will be plenty of opportunity for him to swing by and make veterinary school cracks. There's a quick flash of her glossy pale ghost grey and burnished charcoal grey from at the clicking at the periphery of her audial range. Shockwave keeps an optic on Sixshot's vitals..."Everything is normal for now. Perhaps a tiny hint of stress in there. You can relax Sixshot, Scrapper is one of the best.

Blueshift nods, the ball still stuck to his head. "Ah, good good. I uh, found a package addressed to Shockwave, and now its stuck to my head" he frowns, not really explaining how it could have got there. "It uh... won't come off. Can someone shoot it off?"

Homunculus was here the whole time, of course. It's his suitably imposing stature that kept him generally out of sight beneath one of the tables. Face twisted in its usual unpleasant way, he steps out into the room proper. Engaging his grav systems, he floats free of the floor and hovers about head height with everyone else, just to catch a better glimpse of what seems to have everyone occupied. He looks sorely tempted at the thought of shooting someone who is actually asking for it, but he's likely far down the list for that honor.

If Scrapper hears Shockwave's compliment, he doesn't react to it. The laser screwdriver flickers a few more times. "Still able to see alright?" he asks the warrior.

Shockwave looks up at Blueshift trying to figure out the whole package stuck to the head thing. "How in the world did that happen Blueshift and from who did this package come from?"

Sixshot was listening closely, even to what Blueshift was saying...waste of processing time that it was. He would take the other up on his offer if no one else had leapt to do the deed themselves by the time everything was finished. "Even without voice-recognition I can tell who it is at the door." He answered. And, he tried to relax, it came more easily this time around as if with Shockwave's logical and continuous assessment of odds was reason enough for him now.

The Battle Engine takes a few short steps, seeming tentative - but oddly as soon as Blueshift speaks there's a loud whine and whir as the gunpods swivel and deploy, the Vulcan II turrets coming to life as if prepared to honor Blueshift's request without a second thought. Symphony, however, hesitates as higher level brain functions over-ride base feral instincts and the weapons ratchet to a stop, though the primal malice that seems to color her optical units in this mode doesn't fade away as her attention turns now to what exactly is going on around her, still apparently recalibrating herself after a long dormancy.

"I was... looking to see if it was a bomb sir, you wouldn't want a bomb, would you sir?" Blueshift wails. "It was in a pretty box as well, expensive looking. I know you wouldn't want to be blown up by an expensive bomb, but... I got it stuck to my head!"

A faint 'hnn' of boredom is directed Sixshot's way by Fusillade, before she double-takes at Blueshift's situation. She can't be horribly surprised, but there's a growing knot festering in her pump that Shockwave is going to get it in his single, beady bulb to delegate the investigation... "Not in here, there's auto-countermeasures," she murmurs to Symphony in an even tone to halt the engine's advance.

Shockwave ponders the odds //Probability device is dangerous: 71.4% Probability device stuck to Blueshift because of said device or box properties: 12.6% Probability device stuck to Blueshift because he is an idiot: 87.4% Is the box worth the risk of investigating myself: 45.7% Conclusion...// "Fusillade...see what this box thing is all about. I am busy assisting Scrapper." he says flatly while keeping an optic on the vitals. "Still looking good."

Finally, after this fairly complex 'boot-up' the familiar nails-on-chalkboard voice utters, perhaps raspier than normal and certainly in a softer tone, "Yyyess... it is med-center." yeah, okay she's not FULLY back online yet. There's another ratcheting sound fills the air as the gunpods withdraw once more, the body shifting and tilting to look at Fusillade, all of the informational files are there, but beyond that Symphony finds no particular emotional coloring and thus the attention returns to Blueshift, malice still radiating from her as she tries to piece things together.


Blueshift starts to tug at the ball stuck on his head. It is smooth, silver and shiny, and there is no obvious way that it is stuck there (Mostly because Blueshift is a huge idiot really). On top is a large, inviting button. He keeps hitting the ball. "Doesn't anyone have a chipper thing? To scrape it off?"

Homunculus watches the various exchanges of conversation in silence; one optic ridge raised imperiously. Though still glowering for no good reason, he slowly folds his arms across his chest and begins drumming his fingers impatiently along his chassis. "Perhaps we should return to the suggestion of shooting it off," he offers from the side, nodding at Blueshift. "I'm sure the countermeasures could be disabled in some fashion or other."

Soundwave steps in quietly, holding a datapad and tapping away at its screen. He appears to have no idea that there is some sort of catastrophe brewing in here.

Scrapper continues to work Sixshot over. "Your vision, Sixshot? How well can you still see?" he asks for the second time. The Constructicon is only barely aware of the issue with Blueshift, as his focus is on Sixshot. He's in the upgradin' zone, as it were.

2007 Cadillac Escalade SUV <Rider> wanders in, not really paying attention to where he's going..he's in day seventeen of his search for the NCC Cafeteria. Clearly, there are some things he has yet to learn.

"I mean, yessir." Fusillade frowns a bit, before striding over to Blueshift. She paces around him, like a wolf pup trying its best to size up how to approach a porucpine. "Right. Shockwave wants me to remove his sticky package from Blueshift's head..." At that point, she unholsters one wingblade, and with the menacing slither of metal edges over each other, she half-opens it to form a V shape. "Hold still, Trooper," she commands Blueshift, as she angles the edge under the contact point between Blueshift's cranium and the item, making an effort to not compress any obvious controls on the thing. She jams the swallow-tailed weapon down.

Fusillade succeeds in grasping Blueshift, throwing him off-balance.

"I can tell that that Blueshift has something remarkably stuck to his head. How stupid past the obvious it is, I can't tell yet." Like if it is a bomb indeed, or worse. He was paying more attention however to what Scrapper was doing, his 'gaze' turned inward.

Blueshift yelps as Fusillade cuts the object from his head, taking a bit of his helmet with it. "Aaaie!" he wails as he starts to flail violently as with a snap it comes free. "Oh Primus, my head might be leaking!" Fusillade now has one (1) smooth sphere with a button on it. There is no obvious reason why it stuck to Blueshift's head other than his incredible stupidity

Scrapper hmms and says, "Ok, that's about all I dare to overclock at the moment, then." He pulls the laser screwdriver back out and lectures the warrior a bit. "Now listen, Sixshot, this isn't an exact science. There might be side effects. If they are too severe let me know and we'll reverse the process before you get permanent damage to your lower functions." Now that he's no longer in the zone, Scrapper becomes more aware of just what's happening with Blueshift, Fusillade, and the others. He peers in their direction.

Blitzwing had come to see Sixshot get overclocked, out of professional curiosity as much as anything, but is pleased to find that there's some of Blueshift's usual buffoonery going on as well. Bonus!

Soundwave puts down his datapad for a moment, watching as Fusillade slices away at Blueshift. Is she performing some much needed brain surgery, or is this something else? But more importantly... "What is that object?" Soundwave asks, pointing at the ball.

2007 Cadillac Escalade SUV <Rider> idles in the corner, having been intrigued by the shiny sphere in Fusillade's hand. He refrains from speaking, which is probably for the best.

Holding the wingblade flat up, balancing the sphere on the tip and thusly doubling her arm's length, and the distance between the item and herself, Fusillade asks, "Do we have a containment field of some sort that I can deposit this thing? I am not qualified to render technical advice about this time." That last appears directed at Soundwave, although it's just as likely that she's announcing it to the room at large.

"S-s-shall I exa-a-mine the device for explosive propertiesssss?" Symphony asks as the quadrupedal war platform approaches the silver object, sensor units sweeping over it curiously before her attention raises to lock onto Fusillade, whom has been put in charge of figuring out what idiocy Blueshift has gotten himself into, "I-i-i-t might be dangeroussssss." clearly there are still systems not fully functioning inside of the battle engine - she's being HELPFUL for heaven sakes.

"It could be a space-melon!" Blueshift blurts out for no reason, rubbing his head in pain

"SILENCE! Or I shave the rest of it off," Fusillade barks out.

<Decepticon> Rippersnapper says, "Where everyone go?!"

Homunculus tries to maneuver himself in order to float a little closer to Fusillade and the relocated object of curiosity. His gaze flits back and forth as everyone seems to be determined to get a word in at the moment, save Rider of course. There's nothing much he can contribute at this point, unless someone needs to have the massacred.

<Decepticon> Scrapper says, "We aren't in the medbay."

2007 Cadillac Escalade SUV <Rider> beeps his horn. "Yo, it's just a ball or somethin..chill, y'all. Someone got a space-hoop stuck to their head? We can get a game on!"

<Decepticon> Rippersnapper says, "Oh, where are everyone?"

"Severe, as in self-implode? I'll be sure to let you know Scrapper." Sixshot was kidding, kind of. It was a serious business indeed when it came to these things, but Scrapper had it right, warriors were always more willing to accept whatever damaging effects which were the result of pushing their systems to the limits...for power. Warriors just each all had a more decorated way of approaching such a trait. "Thank you, I look foward to testing out the results in the first battle I can." To the limit. It was also getting very busy in the repair bay, and the fact some unknown object had also arrived made him want to be re-activated and let down all the more.

<Decepticon> Geo says, "Having tea at Autobot city. You should join"

<Decepticon> Magma says, "Either there or Cybertron..."

Glancing askance at the mini-Galvatron, Fusillade smiles ruefully. "Demolitions experience is a plus in this case, yes," she replies to Symphony as she turns to a medical table, and slides the silvery sphere onto the surface. "The button is a fierce temptation..."

Scrapper tilts his head slightly, looking at the strange sphere with the button. "Severe as in your internals could overheat and melt," he tells the Sixchanger. "But no explosion, no." Now only half paying attention to Six and half paying attention to the silly wackiness going on, Scrapper slowly begins undoing the various life support hoses that kept Sixshot monitored during the procedure.

Soundwave nods to Symphony. "Permission granted. But first, place it within a containment field. If the device explodes, that should greatly minimize the damage." He considers the button, himself. It seems so obvious to press it. Maybe... too obvious? He rubs the bottom of his faceplate, wondering...

Blueshift is staring at the space melon. "Uh, surely if it was going to blow up, it would have done so. Can't we just have like, Blot press the button and hope nothing bad happens. Or something bad happens, one of the two?" Of course, if anyone scans it, they will find no evidence of any explosive device whatsoever

<Decepticon> Rippersnapper says, "...We at Autobot City....?"

<Decepticon> Geo says, "No, no. I'm joking."

The Battle Engine shifts and reconfigures, the sounds normally associated with this conversion sounding rather grinding and out of synch before Symphony approaches the sphere, battle mask locking into place over her face as her hands reconfigure into deep scanning tools specifically designed for working with explosives of all sorts. As she reaches the table, she hits a button on the side, a field snapping over the entire contraption as she bends over, bringing one of the several probes close to the surface, beginning a digital dissection of the device in question.

<Decepticon> Rippersnapper says, "Rrrrrrippersnapper no joke. Rippersnapper tear gears out you tell lie to Rippersnapper."

<Decepticon> Magma says, "Check Cybertron..."

Surprisingly, Homunculus seems to take the hint. After the sideways glance from Fusillade, the tape drifts up and back over the leading edge of the spectators. Compliance isn't usually like him, but out of the way he scoots. He seems oddly patient, simply observing as best he can from his new vantage point.

Any scan of the device will not reveal much, save that it is some sort of transmission relay, though where any signal may come from is unknown

When her voice comes again, it's deflated and perhaps a bit bitter, "Nnnnoo signs of explosive material, energy, chemical or otherwise. D-device appears to be of communications origin, but another will have to determine more." the field snaps off and Symphony steps away, hands reconfiguring as her battle mask withdraws once more. She looks decidedly bitter that she wasn't going to be able to play with something that goes boom, but soon her expression turns placid as she half slinks, half staggers over to stand very close to Fusillade, leaving the device where it sits for another to deal with.

Scrapper glances at the sphere, then at Symphony as she runs tests on it, and then at the twit. "Blueshift, where did you get this thing?" he asks, obviously curious. He is uncertain if he really wants to know the answer, but he's willing to tempt fate.

Soundwave continues to rub at his chin. This is really bothering him. Too simple. Too... obvious. Is he freaking out over nothing? Maybe. But caution has kept him alive for a long time. "If it is a communication device, then we should press the button," he proposes. His way of saying that he thinks it's a good idea, but wants someone else to do it fo rhim!

"Duely noted." Sixshot replied, waiting patiently to be let down and everything done with. He'd be happier to be under his own power and able to, well, /move/ if things got messy. "I'm going to hold you to the 'no explosion' though." Was he being serious?

"AW C'MON, y'all! Somebody press a button already!" With that, the SUV in the corner transforms, revealing the chrome-accented form of Rider. "Y'all a bunch'a..." He trails off as he walks towards the containment field, arm outstretched, finger pointed...aiming towards the button... The Cadillac Escalade shifts on up into Rider's big pimpin' robot mode.

...and he presses the dang button already!

As Rider presses the button, the device starts to whirr and come to life, the previously smooth surface of the ball opening up as a beam of yellow light eminates from it. The light resolves itself into a hologram of an ancient humanoid, sitting in a technological wheelchair, looking more like a corpse than anything alive. "Ah good..." he mutters, dark eyes shining as he starts to cough. "'hem. You found it at last. It seems you are more cowardly than the Autobots, who are already on their way to me right now. That may be the difference between your life and your death. My name is Doctor Sixarp. I /trust/ you have heard of me"

Scrapper finally unhooks the last wire that had been keeping Sixshot suspended. He's about to launch into yet another 'be careful and you might experience wacky side effects' speech, but he decides if Sixshot wasn't listening to him before, he isn't going to start now. "Hey, wait!" Scrapper shouts at Rider, seeing what's going on over his shoulder. "Don't touch th- ahhh..." he stops and stares at the hologram. Scrapper has only vaguely heard of this punk. Galactic history isn't his strong suit.

"Your name lives on in infamy, supposedly," remarks Blitzwing. "But I wouldn't expect too much historical knowledge if I were you, Decepticons aren't real big on book-learning as a whole."

Homunculus tenses as Rider reaches for the sphere. Narrowing his optics, he drops his arms to his sides and looks ready to launch himself at whatever the device spews forth. The image of a crippled old man hardly seems worth the effort though, and the diminutive warrior manages to relax somewhat. He nods to the figure, but otherwise doesn't offer a response.

Soundwave folds his arms smugly. "You are a sentient life form of some note," he understates. "Why have you sent us this device? And how did it come to be attached to our... comrade's head? Was he attacked by it?" Somehow Soundwave finds that absurd, but within the ream of possibility where Blueshift is concerned.

The image of Sixarp grins, and then he suddenly devolves into a violent coughing fit, bile trickling down his mouth. Slowly and shakily he wipes it off, giving a cackle. "I sent it to you. The device has no adhesive properties, your man was simply too much of a bufoon" he croaks. "But time is short. I learnt that a while ago, your forces met one of my Orbital Defense devices on Gragulox. Well, I hope you weren't impressed, because frankly, it was nothing to what I created later on. But I am old, and I do not intend to die." His eyes become slightly more steeled. "I am issuing you an invitation, to meet me at my base, and bid for my creations. I could end your war with a flick of my wrists. And to sweeten the deal, I have also invited your shall we say, adversaries"

Scrapper was good to not waste his time. Sixshot was listening now that he was set down, having briefly checked himself over outwardly to make sure everything was in place, then within. Satisfied, he looked foward to testing out the new changes with all intents of pushing it to the limits...if anything went wrong, well. He knew who he'd be looking for to fix it!

Scrapper was on the mission to Gragulox, though he stayed behind on the shuttle, mysteriously right around the time when Gantry showed up. Mysterious. "Good news, Sixarp," Scrapper quips, "You're right - we /weren't/ impressed." Beyond this, the Constructicon seems somewhat empathetic to Sixarp's story. "Wait, you invited the /Autobots/??? The Autobots wouldn't know what to do with a doomsday device if it bit them on the tailpipe!" Note to self, Scrapper thinks. Make a doomsday device that bites Autobots.

Soundwave mutters, "The walking eye." He had such a wonderful conversation with Shockwave that day. But that's not important now. "Your weapon was admittedly difficult to destroy, even though it did not damage our personnel by very much. We would certainly be interested in browsing your other products. If you have made progress since your last effort, we may even consider purchasing one. But I guarantee you nothing." He turns to the other Decepticons, and puts a hand to the side of his head.

<Decepticon> Soundwave has encrypted this channel.

<Decepticon> Soundwave says, "The Autobots are likely to destroy Dr. Sixarp's weapons. We must arrive before them."

Sixarp starts to choke again, gunge running down his cheek as he leans forward in his chair. "I recommend then, Decepticon, that you read up on your galactic history. I..." he starts gurgling again, wiping down his chin with a cloth. "I have in my possession weaponry that has decimated entire solar systems. And what have /you/ done? Skulked about on this mudball of a world for the past few decades. For a small fee, I can raise you up above the Gods. You are my preferred buyers, the Autobots are there as... encouragement"

Homunculus' expression softens somewhat at the implication of weapons capable of absurd destruction. That may not be exactly what the old codger said, but it certainly triggers high explosive sugar plum dreams in one little Decepticon's head. "It would be easy to take this offer, then kill the Autobots when we get there." His voice is low, with an edge of almost glee at the thought of the carnage to come. "Then we will have no competition for these devices. Instead of their comrades returning, we'll surprise the remaining fools with their final destruction."

"Your time might have been better spent pursuing, oh, I don't know, medical ventures," Fusillade remarks dryly.

<Decepticon> Scrapper says, "I agree. If there are weapons to plunder, lets plunder it."

<Decepticon> Sixshot says, "If it involves dealing with the Autobots, I consider it worth my time."

<Decepticon> Soundwave says, "Yes. And, of course, we will kill the Autobots while we are there."

Symphony stares listlessly at what's going on, shakes her head, looks up at Fusillade and then turns and moves away, her equilibrium still sitting slightly off. She approaches an exit and pauses there, glancing over her shoulder before ducking through the door.

<Decepticon> 7th Biggest Sixshot Fan Blot says, "Blot say Sixshot will win the day! Sixshot is strongest!!"

<Decepticon> Blueshift says, "Can I eat the Space Melon now sir?"

<Decepticon> Soundwave says, "NO!"

<Decepticon> Homunculus says, "If what he says is true and the Autobots are already en route, we should perhaps take our leave of the base and try to intercept them."

Scrapper would grimace at the alien's disgusting visage, but his facial features don't make that easy. All the Decepticons seem to be on the same page here: Kill the Autobots, take the weapons for themselves. As Primus intended. "Small fee? Heh, sure. Where to?"

<Decepticon> Rippersnapper says, "Rippersnapper hope Sixshot bring home Autobot trophies... sign, for Terrorcons!"

Sixarp grins at Fusillade, choking again. "Oh, my lady, I have. I am already for past my normal lifespan, but the flesh is weak. I will wait for you on my base on Nothoth. The device will broadcast my location when it deactivates. Do not-" he starts to cough up bile again. "Do not attempt to turn this visit into a squabble with the Autobots. I will not /allow/ fighting in my base. Once you leave of course, it is a different matter. That is /all/." The device flickers off, and from then on, simply broadcasts the same set of co-ordinates over and over again

Rider stands, nonplussed. He was hoping for something a little more exciting from the button, truth be told. Not that he'll tell you that. "See. Told y'all mechas ain't nothin' to it. Y'all need to man up sometime."

Soundwave taps his featureless chin for a moment. "His facility will likely be equipped with built-in defenses. We will heed his warning not to initiate hostilities... until we have what we want." He peers at the coordinates. "Let us not waste anymore time, and begin this operation." Turning around, he begins to step out of the room, making sure to glare at Rider on his way out.

Scrapper recoils at the choking hologram. It is very, very gross. The Constructicon grabs his magic murder bag/took kit and falls in line behind Soundwave.

"I'll keep an eye on the base while you're all off chasing the Walking Eye contract then," Blitzwing says to the other Decepticons as the phone call ends. "Good luck thrashing the Autobots or haggling with the decrepit old mad scientist or whatever."

Blueshift waves, deciding to instead stay behind and eat the space melon once everyone else has gone

Autobot Start!

Autobot City - Repair Bay

This is the main repair bay for the Autobots. Several operating tables lie in a row here, and a long bench lines one wall. On the bench are assorted tools used in repairing damaged Transformers. Scattered throughout the room are various repair bots, awaiting the arrival of more wounded to repair. The room gives you the perception of being immaculately clean, not a tool out of place.

On the left side of the operating arena are wide sliding doors that open into the recovery ward. Less frantic than the busy repair bay, it consists of two rows of immaculate beds on opposite walls for those needing peace and quiet to rest and recover from their repairs. The sounds of quiet conversations between medic and patient, or between visitor and patient, are about all that disturb the quiet.

Paradigm is standing in the repair bay, a box on one of the desks, staring at it, screwdriver in hand as he examines the item. It seems to be packaging, with Autobot City's address boldly stamped onto the top

Lee-Zard is sitting at a computer, and appears to be playing Asteroids. Large headphones are covering his audials, and he wiggles along to some unheard tune.

"What do you MEAN you can't just SOLDER it back on??" roars Scattershot, terrifying the poor Gumby Medic. "It's JUST an ARM, ya buckethead." The arm in question is danging from Scattershot's left hand. Naturally, his right arm is missing. How he lost it is anyone's guess, but it probably involved an awesome space war. The Technobot Commander looks upset.

"I am UPSET with this development," he comments, more quietly now. "Now just solder this thing back on before I'm forced to use it to beat you to death." Scattershot holds the arm out towards the medic, a meaningful look in his visored optics. After a moment, the Medic takes the arm and begins to solder it back on, wisely refraining from any commentary.

Paradigm looks over wryly at Scattershot before going back to examine the box, which is addressed to Ultra Magnus. But hey, Magnus isn't about. "Repairs can be tedious, but like anything if rushed, the results will be poor. And perhaps /fatal/" he mutters sharply to Scattershot. "In short, let the experts do their job"

Entering the medbay with the woosh of the entrance doors sweeping open, Ultra Magnus seems to be moving calmly on his way to the training center -- to ensure his recent repairs are all in working order. He only stops when he notes Paradigm and his box, blue eyes turning a bit curious in their expression. "Paradigm?" He questions after a moment. "What've you got there?"

His question might be a bit muted, though, in the wake of Scattershot's uproar. He turns, and frowns. "A bit impatient today, eh, Scattershot? Don't worry; I'm sure the medic knows what to do." Of course, when isn't Scattershot impatient to get back to shooting things?

"It was delivered today for you by special galactic delivery" Paradigm purrs, turning to Magnus. "I thought it wise to check it over before handing it to you, since its probably a crude trap of some sort. Though it doesn't look like it"

Scorch grumbles as the shouting causes him to wake up from his nap on a med table. Getting to his feet he gives the room a quick once over to see if any of his brothers are about before looking for the remote for the television.

Scattershot looks vaguely mollified and even more vaguely mortified at the dual admonitions. But still less than convinced. He turns his head away from Paradigm and Ultra Magnus, not wanting to make optic contact. "Yeah, well," he mutters in reply. The fingers of his left hand drum impatiently on his knee, which is in turn bouncing up and down as he taps his foot. "Ain't MY fault I ain't modular."

The Technobot Commander turns his attention briefly towards the box, managing, through sheer force of will, not to snap at the medic for not being done yet. "What is it, some kinda gun?" he asks, excitement sneaking into his optics. "Is it big?"

Lee-Zard peers over as Ultra Magnus enters, and pulls his headphones down around his neck. Tinny playback of old Spiece Girls recordings can be heard from the headphones. "Ooo! It must be an early Christmas present from Space Santa! I wonder where LeeZard's present is..."

One can hear the lift that goes up and down between the repair-bay and the training arena. After a moment or so, a huge mech literally has to bend over to enter the area. Broadside's optic visor shines a moment, as he takes in all that area around. "Uh...ummm. Did I miss a radio transmission...." He says, then clicks his radio one quickly. "Must've been from Peacekeeper, she probably forgot to turn mine back one..." He says, quickly trying to pass the blame.

The frown that touches Ultra Magnus' lips now is a bit more thoughtful as he advances on Paradigm, taking a closer look at the box in question. "There's no need to be so cynical about it, Paradigm, but it was good thinking just to double check. Thank you." Thank said, he moves past Paradigm to the desk, once more looking towards the box.

"Hm. Wonder what this could be, anyway?" A gun? An odd thing to mail. But rather than wonder about it any more, Magnus will just set about to opening it up to see what, exactly, is inside.

Paradigm puts his scanning device smartly away, and with a smile stands aside as the box is opened. Inside it is a smooth metal sphere with a large button inset onto the top. "Hmm, hardly a gun, Scattershot. And by all accounts, you are not in need of any more large balls"

Bluestreak is kinda staying back and out of the way for the time being, more curious about what's going on than anything.

"Maybe it's a bomb," Scattershot comments, craning his neck to try and see what's inside, while the Medic tsks about the big mech's constant movement. Scattershot's knee tapping has, at least, temporarily subsided as his curiosity about the sphere in the box gets his interest. "Maybe it's an ANTI-MATTER bomb." he elaborates, sounding hopeful. "I always wanted one a' those things." A brief grin. "Show them Decepticons what's what with one a' THEM, I tell you what."

Durango emerges from underneath a pile of boxes that just walked through the door, having, for once, brought them safely to their destination.

Mulling over the contents idly, the Autobot City Commander can't help but squint. "No, not a gun at all..." Magnus speaks calmly as he reaches inside to pull out there metallic sphere, eyeing the button on top. "... unless your guns look like this, and then I think you'd have more to worry about than not." A brief pause, looking over to Scattershot, and then back to Paradigm. "No, I don't think this is any kind of weapon at all, Scattershot. Paradigm, you're sure this thing isn't an explosive of any sort?"

Lee-Zard's large optics open wide as the mysterious package is opened. He shakes his head free of his headphones and scampers over on all four feet, towards Ultra Magnus and the mysterious object. "Does it have any glitter? Or tinsel? Or candycanes? Can Lee-Zard see it?"

Paradigm stands, hands behind his back as he stares at Magnus. "I am a top class explosives expert, and know more about xeno-technology than any other Transformer alive. If it is a bomb, it is both nothing I have ever seen before, and not a very /good/ one. I trust that if anyone wanted to send you a bomb, they wouldn't have put an inviting button on top. A timer would be much more efficient"

There is no glitter :(

Lee-Zard still thinks it's from Space Santa.

Broadside walks over towards Ultra Magnus, and kneels down to get a better look at the device. "I got it!" He exclaims, "It's one of 'dem, work stress balls!" He says, and rises back up to nod at everyone. "Yea, that's what it is...." Though, he then looks at everyone, who's possibly passing him a weird look. "Im tellin' ya, that's all it is..." He then shrugs to the crowd.

Sunstreaker peeks up from over a bench, snatches a wrench, then ducks back down behind the bench.

Hey, that kinda rhymes.

"Hmmm. An inviting button on top of a bomb..." Scattershot looks pensive, then raises his good wrist towards his mouth. A small recorder pops out of his forearm. "Note to self: send a bomb with an inviting button on top... to the Terrorcons." At Broadside's exclamation, he looks up with incredulity written on his robotic face. "That's ridiculous, Broadside," he admonishes. "EVERYONE knows those stress balls come in PAIRS." Sheesh. Autobots today.

"You never know with some people, these days," Ultra Magnus mutters out flatly, staring at the sphere. He wouldn't put it past someone to send him a bomb with a giant button on the top to activate it; he really wouldn't. "Well then, let's see what this thing is, exactly." Assured that the device -isn't- going to explode if he touches it the wrong way, Magnus sets it back down on the desk, and presses the button atop...!

Broadside looks down at Scattershot, "Well we found this one, that might make it one!" He says, and sighs at the Technobot leader. "I swear, you think just because Im big, that Im not sharp." He presses a finger to his helmet, which makes a -pinging- noise. "Im tellin' ya, if it isn't one of them...ill..." He stops, and watches as Ultra Magnus sets the strange device down. Though, he doesn't continue as the city commander presses the button on the top of it.

As Magnus presses the button, the device starts to whirr and come to life, the previously smooth surface of the ball opening up as a beam of yellow light eminates from it. The light resolves itself into a hologram of an ancient humanoid, sitting in a technological wheelchair, looking more like a corpse than anything alive. "Ah good..." he mutters, dark eyes shining as he starts to cough. "'hem. You found it at last. My name is Doctor Sixarp. I /trust/ you have heard of me"

Scorch pushes his way over to see the now floating image then shakes his head as it speaks. "Me not know you? Who am you? Ball tell me Scorch you it am now."

There is a gun in Scattershot's hand now. It is not clear when he drew it. Maybe it was just too fast to see. But there is a gun in his hand and it is pointed at the hologram. "Doctor Sixarp!" he barks. "Magnus, Paradigm, Broadside... get back! He's a madman!" The acid pellet rifle makes a low humming noise as it powers up.

Lee-Zard leans in close, anticipation written all over his gecko-like face. "Lee-Zard wonder what will happen? Curiosity killed the cat in the hat!" He waits, rather impatiently, until the hologram appears. "Huh, I always thought Space Santa would be fatter. What we do for fancy hologram of Doctor Sixarp?"

"Its a hologram" Paradigm drolly announces. "Please tell me you can tell the difference between a hologram and real life, I thought the Technobots were supposed to be the smart ones. If it /were/ a device meant to harm, it would have /done/ that by now. The experts do not hang about"

Bluestreak waves his hands slightly as Scattershot brings his weapon out of nowhere--likely subspace. "Scattershot, I don't think it's a good idea," he protests, continuing to stay back and out of the way. Never mind the fact that Peacekeeper would have Scattershot's core should the Technobot commander open fire in the med-bay...

Quick to react, Magnus' right arm sweeps out calmly as he steps backwards, placing a single hand on Scattershot's shoulder. "Calm down, Scattershot. Paradigm is right, it's just a holographic transmission; he can't do any harm to us. Though..." Ultra Magnus' eyes narrow, focusing on the form of the not-so good doctor. "I'm sure we know who you are. And you should know we don't like wasting time. So... what do you -want-?"

Sunstreaker pops up near Ultra Magnus's shoulder, frowning. "Just a hologram? Well, ok, it's probably safe. But I'd toss it in a furnace anyway, just to be safe."

Unbeknownst to all, Wheelie climbs out of an air duct, because that's how he gets around the city. He is small, so no one can see him, regardless of stats, abilities, or whether you want to be a twink and say you see him when I just said you couldn't you stupid creep. Utilizing his small stature, Wheelie is able to calmly enter the scene, head and shoulders below the rest, looking around to see if there is any dip at this apparent party.

"Of COURSE I know it's a hologram!" Scattershot replies, harshly. "But if you think this psycho is just dropping by for a social call..." he leaves that sentence hanging as Ultra Magnus speaks his mind. "I still say it ain't safe. Remember Crandor?" The Technobot shakes his head. "This ain't right. Any second that sphere's gonna blow up, or release some kinda rust virus, or... I don't know. I just don't trust it."

Broadside leans down to look at the hologram. "Aww, just a hologram. Here I thought I might've gotten to squash something." He then shrugs. "Be that as it may, ill just have to wait. Atleast make some use of my two useless forms." Though he quiets down as he wants to listen to what the image may say. Though, he doesn't like how he has to literaly kneel to even seen the image. Hopefully though, it will be loud enough to be heard.

Durango takes a seat on a nearby rolling chair...or is it Wheelie? Who knows, they're about the same size, and equally as uncomfortable. Peacekeeper should really invest in some new furnishings. Padded.

The image of Sixarp grins, and then he suddenly devolves into a violent coughing fit, bile trickling down his mouth. Slowly and shakily he wipes it off, giving a cackle. "What do /I/ want? More what I can /give/ you" he croaks. "I learnt that a while ago, your forces met one of my Orbital Defense devices on Gragulox. Well, I hope you weren't impressed, because frankly, it was nothing to what I created later on. But I am old, and I do not intend to die." His eyes become slightly more steeled. "I am issuing you an invitation, to meet me at my base, and bid for my creations. I could end your war with a flick of my wrists. And to sweeten the deal, I have also invited your shall we say, adversaries"

It's a tank. A really really really big green hulk of a tank with a nasty crimson drill. Now it's a freakish-looking robot wearing a grin expression. He doesn't actually open fire on it, but he does tighten his grip on his blasters, "End the war?!" A shake of his heavy helm, "This guy's full of it."

Wheelie's legs buckle a little as Durango sits on him, but luckily a lifetime of cooking his own robot steroids in the wilds of Quintessa has rendered him freakishly strong for his tiny size. He shoves Durango up off of his head, adjusting the immobile brim of his visor.

"Lee-Zard not likey nasty weapons." The little Junkion wrinkles his nose in disgust. "But it be double-plus ungood for Cons's to have new toys from evil Space Santa." He also surreptiously takes out a small scanning device, which looks a lot like a Star Trek tricorder. He aps a few buttons and attempts to get a lock on the transmission, and sees if it becomes possible to triangulate the coordinates.

The flickering image of Sixarp suddenly reacts to the goings on, eyes glaring balefully at Lee-Zard. "Do not try me, you creature. If I wanted, you would be dead in an instant. I will make no secret of my location if you agree to meet me." He starts to cough again, a horrid, hacking thing, head turned to where Quickswitch is. "You doubt me? Your collegue knows of my skills. And knows what would happen if they fell into your enemies hands. Let that be your motivation, perhaps?"

Sunstreaker scowls at the transmission. "Man, we don't want what you got, freakshow. Right, guys? Am I right?" He looks around for approval--which he always craves.

"We don't have any interest in your doomsday devices, doctor," Magnus states plainly. "Anything you've invented is going to do more harm than good." And that, as they say, is the bottom line. But there are other things to consider. -Especially- with the Doctor's last statement. Ultra Magnus pauses for a moment, looking all around him at the Autobots assembled, and then back to the holographic image of Sixarp. He smiles, just slightly. "... End the war, huh? I assume you'll give us your coordinates, then, or already have it programmed into this little device of yours?"

Durango stares down Sunstreaker. "Ah say we go. Can' affoahd not teh."

Broadside waves his hands at the image, "The only thing that can end the war, is us Wreckers!" He boldy proclaims to the image. "Isn't that Right Quick?" He then turns towards Impactor, "You agree too, right boss?" Though he then rubs his head at the image. "Actually I never heard of you..." He says, trying to pester this said evil man. "Though, I could just be failing in selective memory..." He then turns to Magnus, and wonders what he'll say to all this bullglitch.

"We gotta plug this creep," Scattershot mutters to Ultra Magnus, under his breath. Out loud, he says, "Why should we believe this ain't a trap, Sixarp? You're not exactly Captain Trustworthy. For all we know, as soon as we land that big damn giant hand spaceship'll crush us to death, not so much as a 'how d'you do'." He grunts at the general tone of the responses. "He looks old an' crippled, but Sixarp ain't no joke. This here's a stone cold killer, less soul than a bucket fulla dark matter."

Sixarp grins. "I will wait for you on my base on Nothoth. The device will broadcast my location when it deactivates. Do not-" he starts to cough up bile again. "Do not attempt to turn this visit into a squabble with the Decepticons, I will not /allow it/. That is /all/." The device flickers off, and from then on, simply broadcasts the same set of co-ordinates over and over again

Paradigm strokes his chin. "If he wanted us dead Magnus, we would be dead now. That's the way he worked. No tricks, no deathtraps, just weapons of mass destruction. And I personally do not want to see any such things fall into Decepticon hands. We must have something that he wants"

The robot twists and lengthens into a leaping puma. Quickswitch sits on top of some shelving, hissing defiantly down at the hologram! Faster than the eye can follow, Quickswitch transforms into a mecha-puma.

"Me not creature, Me Lee-Zard! Humph." He grumbles, and flicks off the scanning device. "Me was just making sure you not be a trick Decepticon transmission." Lee-Zard ponders over the evil doctor's information. "Not like evil doctor, but what if he gives all nasty toys to the Decepticons? We not let him."

"Wheelie can't say this he trust," the golden robot giggles. "But keeping 'Cons from weapons? Must!"

"..." Magnus is silent for a moment after the broadcast flickers off. As he assumed, the coordinates begin to flicker into existence, broadcasting directions to the man's base. "... Agreed, Paradigm. If he's sent invitation to the Decepticons, we don't have much of a choice. He doesn't want us dead for -now-, but I don't doubt there's some sort of trick involved here. But..." Magnus turns towards the rest of the Autobots, sweeping a hand out. "Alright, Autobots. We're going to meet Doctor Sixarp at his base and see what little game he has planned here. I don't have any interest in using any weapon this man might have made, but... if we can secure them? We can destroy them, and keep the Decepticons or anyone else to use them to bring further harm on anyone else."

Scattershot stands up, arm finally re-attached. He clenches a fist. "Well, obviously we can't let the Decepticons get their hands on Sixarp's weapons... but I don't think goin' in there is the way to do it." He looks at Magnus as he issues his decree. "Look, Magnus. We got coordinates right here. All we gotta do is send a nice big planet buster that way." The Technobot gives a cruel smile. "If we're lucky, it'll get Sixarp AND the 'Cons. Two robirds, one stone."

Broadside waves his hand dismissingly, and then notes. "Im in, we gotta keep these possible death weapons out of the 'Cawns hands." He then walks over towards the door, and then looks back. "I know my fellow Wreckers would agree with that." He says, and the leans on the door frame. He's waiting to see who else will come along. Atleast he might push them more into action, then just to stand around and talk about what must be done.

"Now wait here, lets not be hasty" Paradigm hisses. "Of course, he is evil. But technological progress always comes at a cost. War always creates a surge in technology. Even your beloved humanity developed most of their drugs in labs where they tortured innocent creatures. Perhaps we can use what he has, perhaps some good can come from his evil"

"Ah 'ave teh admit...Scattehshot's plan's got mehrit. But I can' help but wondeh who or what else lives on that planet, Scattehshot. Might be innocents." He almost looks saddened by the thought that some giant bomb wasn't going to engulf the entirety of the Decepticons. "Bettah we take a gandeh ouhselves, eh?"

"If technology only death produce," Wheelie chimes with a giggle, hopping up onto a med-bed to gain height, "Wheelie will help it vamoose!" He giggles again.

Bluestreak nods faintly. "I don't care if we will use the weapons against the Decepticons or not. I'm only worried about keeping the Decepticons from getting those weapons so they can't use them against us or anyone else," he agrees with some of the other 'Bots. "I'll go too."

"Me not be helpful if Decepticons get nasty, but Lee-Zard good with technology, me come too!" The energetic little Junkion rises up onto his hind legs, and puffs out his chest.

"We can't do that, Scattershot," is Magnus' flat reply, his head shaking firmly. "For one, we don't know how populated the planet he's living on is. For another, he no doubt has some sort of satefy measures in case we decided to take such a route to take him out. He's not a stupid man, by any measure." A pause, as Magnus looks towards Paradigm. "I don't condone anything the things that you've mentioned, Paradigm, no matter who has set about making them. Not sinking to that sort of level is what seperates us from the Decepticons. Remember that."

The Autobot XO looks back again towards everyone else, frowning deeply. "I'm not comfortable with going to this madman's base with only a semblence of an idea of what's going on, but we have little in the way of alternatives. Autobots, here is our mission: we go to Nothoth, secure Sixarp's weapons, -whatever- they may be. We ensure that the Decepticons don't get their hands on it, and -if necessary-, we take it all apart. Understood?"

"You speak plain right in my ear -- Wheelie gets your orders clear!" The minibot breaks into another fit of giggles like a tiny chrome mentalist.

Bluestreak nods at Ultra Magnus' orders. "Understood, sir," he confirms.

"And, of course, take the good doctor into custody" Paradigm adds. "He is after all, a wanted war criminal"

Broadside slams his fist into an open palm. "Alright, now we're talkin!" He says with a moderate show of pleasure. "Curshin' Cons, and weapons, what more fun could there be. Well, other than changing my twin modes to useful vehicles." He then chuckles, "So, who's flying the atrocious machines there? Im definately not volunteering for that assignment." The gigantic mech looks at everyone, and really hopes there are some pilots who can fly the shuttles there.

Curious Quickswitch quirks his brows and comments, quietly, "What about the Decepticons? They're Cybertronians like we are--even if a lot of them have hit lists a mile long... I'll go, if it means keeping whatever weapons of mass destruction OUT of their hands, but not if it means unleashing it on /everyone./" Oh, if only Quickswitch could remember more than a few million years back.... (curses his player for typing slowly)

Durango walks towards the door. "You comin?" He leaves without really waiting for an answer. He'll see everyone at the landing pad.

Autobot Shuttle <Alpha Trion>

The interior of the shuttle is very roomy. There is a highly technical cockpit that seats numerous bots at various stations, and a huge cargo area for additional troops or equipment.

Scattershot mutters something about acceptable loss, but sighs and throws up his hands. "FINE. Fine." He finally holsters his rifle, looking rather disgusted with the whole situation. "If those are your orders, that's what we'll do. But I ain't happy about it." Scattershot crosses his arms. "At least there'll be SOMEONE there willin' to pull the trigger... if things go sour." A pause. "Or if Sixarp looks at me funny." Another pause. "Or if I get antsy."

The Technobot Commander leaps into the air and transforms into his FTL fighter mode. "I'll fly escort," he emits, verniers twitching and weapons re-aligning. "Y'know. Just in case."

Cyber-Puma <Quickswitch> gazes outside the shuttle window at Scattershot, aching for Sixshot's ability to travel the stars. Ow.

Broadside slowly makes his way into the ship, and then walks towards one of the back seat. Slowly, he sets down and screeches as the seat seems to small for him. "Would it kill the techs to make a seat big enough for my aft!?" He yells to the Autobots outside. "I swear, no consideration for the larger mechs!" Though, he does find a way to strap himself in. The seat's general location is one in the corner, and far away from any window.

Lee-Zard scampers up to the cockpit of the shuttle, and seats himself at a console with lots of flashing lights and fancy astronomy displays, and which he assumes to be some sort of science or navigation position. "Whee, shotgun!" He says with glee, even though there doesn't seem to be a shotgun seat on the shuttle. He straps himself in, and gets ready for the ride.

Moving into the Alpha Trion calmly, Magnus takes a set, strapping himself in and preparing for take-off. "Alright, set coordinates to Nothoth," he remarks, looking out a nearby window distantly. "And be prepared for anything, Autobots. Primus knows what the good Doctor actually has planned for us once we arrive."

Paradigm simply quietly takes his place at a console, still stewing over Magnus's words. "To destroy any technology is the act of an ignorant luddite" he mutters. "Yes, we are the 'good guys', but we are not /stupid/"

Durango sits down on a chair near the bay doors, ready to be the first one out when and if necessary. He takes the travel time to clean his weapons' systems. He braces for the travelspam.


And now, back to our show, as the shuttle comes within sight of Nothoth...

Broadside finally turns on his optics, after having them turned off during the flight. "Are we there?" He asks, and hten watches the others leave. "Alright!" He says, and then leans forward. "Ahh slaggin' glitch!" He says, and finds out that he's stuck in the seat. "Oh yea, leave me in here guys, Im only STUCK IN MY SEAT!" With a mighty heave, you can hear as Broadside tears up the armrests of the chair!

Lee-Zard watches as the infamous Nothoth appears on the sensors. "Mr. Radar says 'bloop!'. I think that means we're here." He says, and taps the screen. "Or is this one Mr. Coffee?"

Outside, Space Fighter <Scattershot> warps out of subspace just ahead of the Alpha Trion, sensors stretched to their limit as he scans for hostiles. "Nothing on scanners yet, Magnus," he radios to the shuttle. "But... take it slow."

Arrival on Nothoth

Nothoth The surface of Nothoth is simply one thing - white. Snowy tundras and treacherous mountains lie covered in millenia of snowfall, a thick white sheet of snow is almost perpetually falling across the whole land, as harsh winds whip across. This is the planet's winter - a ten year period where the snow never stops, where it is forever night with lightning cracking constantly across the sky.

Paradigm steps onto the planets surface, instantly drenched in snow as he looks about, lightning forking in the sky, the bunker looming in front of them all. "Not the most hospitable of worlds!" he shouts over the din

Durango follows the others out of the there was no immediate danger, he had no need to rush out in an all-fired blaze of glory.

Broadside rubs his aft section, and then shakes his head. "I swear, sometimes you just can't get any help..." Though, his optic visor then takes in the sight of this world. "Wow, it's almost like the Artic circle back on Earth..." His hands move down to his sides, as he scrutinizes the terrain.

Wheelie is riding Scattershot's back, looking around, hand held over his eyes even though he's /got/ a visor.

<Autobot> Broadside says, "Testing, is our radio working out in this type of enviroment?"

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "Obviously"

Space Fighter <Scattershot> doesn't bother trying to navigate through the calm sections of the storm or any of that fancy claptrap. He simply flies straight through all the turbulence and lightning. Because Scattershot is One Tough Mother. Once he's down into the more stable atmosphere, he begins to circle the landing site. He has yet to notice that Wheelie is riding him. Hopefully the storms didn't hurt him. "I don't... see anything. Just snow, snow and MORE bloody snow," he emits. After a pause. "Shoulda used my planetbuster suggestion, no way anyone lives on this sorry excuse for a planet."

Cyber-Puma <Quickswitch> slinks out of the shuttle on feline, clawed feet. He raises his head and sniffs the air, his ears twitch and listen, and he peers around at the environment with piercing feral optics.

Bluestreak shakes his head as he looks up at the sky. "No, Broadside, this is worse," he replies as his doorwings tense. "Let's keep moving. Sooner we get done, sooner we can get back to Earth." He really doesn't like this.

Paradigm tries his best to cover his face as he marches through the snow. "Last I checked Scattershot, we don't /have/ a planetbuster" He shouts. "And if we did, we'd have used it by now, and not on an iceball like this. Nnnn" The harsh cold starts to freeze his circuits as he powers forwards. "We need to get out of this cold soon or we'll just waste energon!"

In front of everyone, the gigantic snow encrusted doors of the bunker open invitingly....

<Autobot> Quickswitch growls over the com.

Lee-Zard scampers out of the shuttle, and gazes around the landscape. He sticks out his pink tongue and catches some snowflakes. "Wow, it's like the north pole... Only ugly. And no flying reindeer!" Once the fun of catching snowflakes wears off, he seems a little annoyed at the inhospitible landscape, while the deep snow impedes his movement on short legs.

Snow falling heavily and coating his shoulders, Ultra Magnus trudges through feet upon feet of frost and ice, metal legs dragging across the cold ground. "Just keep moving forward, Autobots!" He shouts over the snow. "We should be approaching Sixarp's facilities any time now!" He sweeps a look around him, looking back towards Scattershot with a frown as they move in on their destination, "Sorry, Scattershot, it just isn't an option! Everyone, keep on the look out. Who knows what kinds of things that doctor could have built here. Let's get inside and see just what that madman wants."

Broadside pulls his plasma pulse gun free from subspace. "Woah!" He says, and points it at the bunker doors. Though, after a moment he can see what it is. "Oh ok, it's just our doom..." He says in a calm expression, "No worries, we got this one it seems."

Paradigm stares at the opening space before them. "Step into my parlour, said the spider to the fly" he drolly observes, before walking into the darkness

Sixarp's Bunker

Bunker Inside, the bunker is a maze of grey corridors, leading out into a gigantic main atrium. Obviously once a lab, it has now fallen into disrepair, but still full of machinery, tables, monitors, and plexiglass windows, showing views of even further into the complex, of garages full of gigantic war machines. This place is /big/

Doctor Sixarp Doctor Sixarp. His face is cursed by billions. Like most inhabitants of the galaxy, he is transformer-sized and humanoid. The once proud, lithe scientist is now a shadow of his former self. A withered, eye-patch wearing form, crippled in a wheelchair, bile oozing from every wrinkled sore, a wheezing gasp constantly coming from his chest, wires snaking into every corner of his body, keeping him alive

Inside the bunker, from the short entrance corridor, is the huge cavernous interior full of machinery, fittings, and... the legendary Doctor Sixarp, in his wheelchair, hooked up to various life-support machines, wheezing away, taking the occasional breath from a canister by his side. "Welcome" he croaks as the Autobots enter

<Autobot> Scattershot says, "Can I shoot him, Magnus."

<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "He smells."

Broadside walks into the gigantic bunker, which is actually large enough to hold his trememdous size without him having to lean over. That's truely an impressive feat, especially in Broadside's optics. Though, it doesn't take long, as he looks down at this pathetic looking man, and raises an optic ridge. Yet, he stays quiet and allows Magnus to do any of the talking. Though, his hand remains on his pulse gun, and hopefully he'll also have help from his Junkion friend.

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "We are probably just as repugnant to him"

<Autobot> Scattershot says, "I don't care who's repugnant or what, I just think we should shoot 'im."

<Autobot> City Commander Ultra Magnus says, "No, you can't shoot him, Scattershot."

<Autobot> Scattershot sounds grumpy. "FINE."

Lee-Zard gazes around excitedly at all of the fancy machines, although most don't seem all that impressive. He tentativly peers down at the ominous Dr. Sixarp, from his vantage point atop Broadside's shoulder. The doctor doesn't seem to be in very good shape.

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "To be fair Magnus, he will probably be executed at trial, that /is/ the usual punishment for crimes such as his"

<Autobot> Lee-Zard says, "Me Lee-Zard think he not need any help getting dead, he look pretty dead already."

<Autobot> Broadside says, "I doubt he hasn't planned for our arrival, Paradigm."

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "Of course. It was simply an observation"

Durango sighs at all the radio talk. He mutters something into the broadband, and then starts walking towards the good doctor. No sense coming and /not/ talking to the man.

<Autobot> Durango says, "I doubt 'e doesn' 'ave radio intehceptehs, eitheh. C'mon now. Let's see what 'e's got feh us."

Cyber-Puma <Quickswitch> slips into the darkness of the bunker, padding between the various machines on absolutely silent feet. So these are weapons of war... The puma bristles at both the sight of the old man and at the talk on the com, "Perhaps he'll expire while we stand here," Quickswitch utters gruffly, and suddenly there is a robot standing there--huge relatively, but not next to the hulk of Broadside.

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "Remember though, he may be twisted, evil and immoral, but he is /undoubtedly/ a genius"

Moving to the front of the group, Ultra Magnus crosses his hands over his broad, metallic chest at the less-than impressive sight of the crippled and old Doctor Sixarp. "Seems like age has decided to catch up on you, huh, doctor? I can't help but feel you're getting off light, though." He pauses here only for a moment, eyes hardly trying to contain his own dislike for the doctor or his reputation. "So, where are all your great weapons, Sixarp? But I imagine there's some sort of catch before we can just up and take them off your hands."

<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "If he's suffering any, I'll make it quick..."

The brawling, bragging berserker Scattershot still has his gun out. His optics are narrowed at the old man in his wheelchair. "Doctor Sixarp," he says, not sounding pleased. "Nice ride. That thing do stairs?" He tries very hard to mask the murderous intent in his voice. And to look casual. It's not enough. He still looks and sounds like a mech who's just itching to shoot a dude in a wheelchair. "Careful, Durango," he calls after the Outback. "He might try to implant ORGANICS into your rigid grill structure." He shudders.

Scattershot reconfigures into his humanoid robot form, hands flexing and feet stomping. His head ratchets into place, looking grim.

The ancient form of Sixarp nods slowly at Magnus, a line of black drool still trickling down his chin, that he dabs at. "Of course" he smiles, choking again. "All too soon, death has caught up with me. Though I do not intend to go in to that black yonder, not yet. The devices you see around you are but a fraction of my genius. The real prize..." he taps his head with his weathered hand. "Is in here. And /yes/ it can go up stairs"

Scattershot looks grudgingly impressed by a wheelstairmaster.

Broadside looks down, "I don't trust him, Magnus!" He says, and haunches down into a pouncing position. "This seems to convienent for words, especially from someone like him..." He doesn't care if the rocker-jockey hears him. "How can we be sure you're not planning anything, Doctor?" He says, and points at the fogey. "I didn't come here, to watch you hurt any of my comrades."

"Me, Lee-Zard would like to examine technical specifications for some of Doctor Sixarp's devices." He asks, while trying to remain partially hidden by Broadside's head. "And Lee-Zard is also interested in what Doctor expects in exchange for devices, not expect something for nothing."

"I came here for damage control," in very loose terms, the Sixchanger mutters. Then-- "So!" Quickswitch brightens up, "Why did you call us here?" he looks over at one of the devices, letting out a whistle at it, "What do some of these ordanances do?"

Soundwave has arrived.

Shockwave has arrived.

Scrapper has arrived.

Fusillade has arrived.

Dead End has arrived.

Homunculus has arrived.

Sixshot has arrived.

"I don't think anyone here trusts him, Broadside, and I would never expect them to," Ultra Magnus asides. The City Commander looks towards Sixarp, his expression bland as he continues. "Cut to the chase, doctor. What do you want? A man like you isn't going to offer something like this for free." And Ultra Magnus doesn't doubt that the man is looking for the better end of the bargain, too.

Sixarp gives another hacking cough, a violent, cracking one as he rocks in his chair. "Nnn. Destruction. Desolation" he croaks. "But also free-energy generation. Devices to increase crop yelds. Means to turn barren asteroids into lush fertile plains." He cracks a toothless grin. "But I will tell you what I want when the Decepticon arrive. As they now do..."

Bluestreak remains quiet, glancing over his shoulder towards the doors leading outside. Not because he's not interested in what's going on, but because he doesn't want to get shot in the back when the Decepticons eventually arrive--as they likely will with an offer like the one the 'good doctor' had given.

Broadside also turns his head, and looks back at the rest of the party guests. "You'll have to excuse me, if I don't believe you Doctor..." He says, and crosses his arms. Though, his weapon remains in hand, just in case the 'Cawns try anything funny. "Lee-Zard, keep an optic on them, would you?" he asks the small tape, who's probably hidden in the darkness and by Broadsides bulk.

Shockwave follows Soundwave silently, taking more his time to observe the surroundings, who is where, what is what, where are the exits, what are potential defenses and such. The negotiation part is best left to the Pr officer Soundwave.

The clanking of metal feet heralds the arrival of the Decepticons, as do their glowing red optics. Soundwave is among the first to appear, tracking a little bit of snow as he eneters. He seemed to find his way around this place fairly easily--probably his sense of hearing.

Also amongst the Decepticons is a gumby seeker named Redshirt, who is happily walking along with the rest of the crew. "Gosh sir" he says to Soundwave. "I'm so pleased you chose me for this away mission, it is my very first! I can't wait to see what happens!"

Fusillade slinks in somewhere in the middle of the pack of Decepticons that pile in. She looks smug over something that occured outside, although she very quickly becomes captivated to the first overtly aerial-looking supermassive doomsday construct she sees.

Scrapper strides in with the rest of the Decepticons. Unlike some of the others, Scrapper has a fair bit of snow on him. He doesn't seem to be paying it any mind, though, as he carefully watches the Autobots for any signs that they're close to making a deal. It goes without saying that he doesn't trust this Sixarp one bit. 'Preferred seller'. Hah! Like Fusillade, though, his attention wanders away from this and towards the machinery. He is in awe of this place. Wheelie walks in with the Decepticons, too. He is seriously sneaky as hell, and hasn't posed in yet.

Lee-Zard makes a little 'eep' sound as the Decepticons approach, despiteneutral ground and the non-violent nature of the confrontation. He huddles in closer to his perch, the large shoulder of Braodside. He dos indeed keep an optic on them(two in fact), but he dims the light level they emit to help him blend in.

Dead End is staying away from the chirpy and quite likely doomed Redshirt seeker lest he have to engage the bot in conversation. He keeps his gaze straight ahead as he trudges into the rest of the party, apparently not noticing Wheelie, but has the radar revealed the Autobot's presence? Dead End gives no indication but merely continues on.

Wheelie's commando training keeps him from being /too/ conspicuous.

Homunculus drifts in not too far behind Dead End's shoulder. The tiny tape terror narrows his burning optics and glares boiling hot death at the Autobots. Unfortunately none of them seem to succumb, which is no surprise but still manages to make him hiss angrily. Slowing, he remains towards the rear as the rest his comrades file in. For the moment, he chooses to simply take note of which do-gooders decided to take the trip.

As the Decepticons enter, the large doors to the bunker automatically slam shut, cutting out the blinding cold. Sixarp gives another gurgling chuckle as they arrive. "Aheh... better late than never" he smirks toothlessly, hands in his lap. "As I was telling your... aquaintences, the Autobots, what I have here is merely a shadow of what I can give you. And that, my friends, is locked away in my head. Please, do not get any ideas about fighting each other, I do not tolerate that in my house. To ensure your... co-operation, upon your entry, some of you have been infected by a nanovirus of my devising. Do not worry. It will only activate upon my whim or my death. Just so we are /clear/ to start with. If I wanted you dead, you would be lying at my feet." After this speech, he wheezes slightly, taking another puff of the gas cylinder by his side.

Scrapper scowls inwardly. Within an astrosecond of Sixarp saying the word 'nanovirus', Scrapper has reached into his magic murder bag and pulled out a medical scanner. Wordlessly, he steps up to the closest Decepticon (Fusillade, as it happens to be) and waves it in front of her, studying the results. The superweapons are not forgotten, but they are put on hold.

Broadside glares daggers at the old man, as he speaks of a possible virus in his system. "Why you old...." He cuts short, as most likely one of the Autobots would order him to be quiet. His arms remained crossed, but yet, they were slowly moving back towards his sides. Regardless, he has a vice-like grip on his weapon. He won't shoot it, but it will remain there as a precaution. "I hope that this doesn't turn ugly, Doctor..." He says simply, trying to intimidate the little man.

Wheelie stands up on his tip-toes between Scrapper and Fusillade, trying to look at the scanner, too.

Lee-Zard starts going through a mental checklist of remedies and procedures for mechanical nanovirii infection. Much like the Decepticon Scrapper, Lee-Zard takes out his scanner and makes a quick scan of Broadside, since he's so handy. And hopefully the doctor doesn'tget really mad and call him a 'creature' like before. :(

"Just try it, you tin--" Scattershot pauses, realising that the insult 'tin-plated buckethead' does not make sense when applied to an organic being. He struggles for a few moments, then continues. "You meat-plated buckethead." Despite his bluster, he does look rather concerned about the whole 'nanovirus' thing. It reminds him of something the Terrorcons tried on the mean streets of Pandora. "It's already ugly, Broadside," he grumbles. "Don't waste our time, Sixarp. What do YOU want?"

"Glitch off, scrapheap," Scrapper snaps at Wheelie, raising the scanner up higher so the minibot can't see. The superweapons had him in a good mode, but nanoviruses have undone tht quite rapidly.

Soundwave glances dispassionately at Redshirt for a moment. "Good," is all he says in return. But once the Doctor reveals his horrible surprise, Soundwave seems to almost panic. His arms fly up to his mid-section as he looks back to the exit, then he glares at Sixarp. "Very well, Doctor. What is it that you desire?" Just got to keep him talking for now--until he can figure out if there's a way to counteract the virus.

Homunculus snarls, fists clenched tight enough to make the metal creak. "You will pay for this outrage," he rasps, voice dangerously low. Gliding forward, he thrusts a finger towards the wheezing cripple. "You said some, old man. That's a guarantee that some of us would live, should we decide to end this farce." Smiling coldly, he lowers his arm to his side and shrugs. "I, for one, think it is worth the risk."

Dead End has been indifferent to the snow outside and is equally indifferent to the news that there might be a nanovirus moving around inside him suddenly and without any indication of infection. He turns to look over at Sixarp with a long stare before shrugging slightly and reaching out to pull Wheelie away from Fusillade and Scrapper by gripping Wheelie's arm firmly and tugging back.

At the mention of the nanovirus, and the scanner shoved in her general direction, Fusillade's attention is torn away from the nebular dreadnaught and the claw-scuffed plexiglassteel viewing port. Subconsciously aware of Wheelie's height, she clamps legs shut as he begins poking about.

"You 'Cons are always a bit much -- but knock it off with the bad touch!" Wheelie slaps Dead End's hand.

Durango stands right in front of the good doctor, staring down at him, as their height difference would have it. "Fine. Nanavirii'n all aside...get on with it, can yeh?" He steps off -- slightly -- as Homunculus whips past him, finger outstretched.

Magnus' eyes narrow instantly the moment that Sixarp makes his speech. For now, the Decepticons are ignored. They're a problem that will have to be dealt with later; Sixarp takes front and center. "To ensure no fighting and to ensure we do as you want, I imagine," the Autobot City Commander grits out, hands closing into tight fists at his size. "-What- do you -want-? Stop beating around the bush and get to the point here."

Sixarp gurgles again, looking from Scrapper to Lee-Zard. "Hhheheh... do not take me for a fool, I would not design something I would expect you to detect. It is a failsafe, that is all." His ancient eyes snap to Broadside. "And I not not wish things to turn ugly either. You will be /civil/ in my presence. Do not try my patience. I am an old man. What I want is simple - I wish to live. I have more, so much more to give the galaxy. I wish to live forever. You think of things too small. Your war is petty. You spend all your time on a mudball thats sole notable factor in the universe is that it is the largest exporter of Marmite." A black ooze dribbles down his chin again. "I have loftier goals. But my flesh is weak, and there is nothing I can do to prolong it. I have designed a cybernetic form to upload my consciousness to, but I cannot perform the procedure myself. All I ask of you, is that one side will perform the operation and give me new life. Then I will share all my technology with your petty-minded faction."

Sixshot is for some reason, not one of those 'unlike' persons. He dusted off some of the more conspicuous snow with a gesture brisk enough to show irritation or efficiency. This act halts on the announcement, not having paid much attention to detail regarding the 'products' to be sold off but for the Autobots. Didn't he /just/ get out of being worked on? There wasn't a loud explosion from Sixshot of threats, rather he waited. He'd know when it was time to cut that over-inflated egotistical miscreant down.

Dead End looks down at Wheelie as the Autobot slaps at his hand, shrugging again, as he releases Wheelie's arm and turns to look toward Sixarp as the other begins to speak.

Scrapper nods at Dead End, confirming that he does not want Wheelie here. Continuing to not allow the minibot to view the results, Scrapper completes his scan on Fusillade. "Nothing here," he reports. "Either the old slimeball is telling the truth, or he's lying all the way and there's no virus at all." Still, he did say 'some'. Scrapper moves on to Dead End, who was of course here having a slap fight with Wheelie.

Wheelie slaps Dead End again, just to be a jerk.

Dead End ignores the slap. He doesn't even glare.

Bluestreak's doorwings twitch as he watches the Decepticons enter, then Sixarp's little warning and, finally the explaination. He motions for Wheelie to leave the Decepticons alone as he keeps a distrustful optic on the doctor. He doesn't want to give the doctor a reason to activate that virus, after all.

Broadside clenches his fists, and just literally wants to tear the man in half. "A monster like you, I would never want to help you live any longer. Not after all the atrocities you have commited!" Ooh, Broadside is but a stone's throw away from just rushing and stepping on this worthless little murderer. He's using all his willpower and discipline to simply hold back his rage from such a request.

A succession of transformations is Quickswitch's response to the situation, landing himself in hovercraft mode and looking like much of the machinery int he room. The entrance of the Decepticons is studied by Quickswitch, searching among the tallest for--yes, there he is... Suddenly, Quickswitch transforms into an assault hovercraft.

The gumby known as Redshirt stands right next to Dead End, bouncing with excitement. "Gosh, virus eh sir? I hope none of us are infected. This is bally exciting, what?"

Dead End shifts himself carefully away from the Redshirt gumby in response to the cheeriness field thus generated by the gumby. He speaks in a low but firm tone. "Be silent. This concerns all of us."

Homunculus lowers his rage to a dull roar. Jaw clenched almost absurdly, he somehow manages not to bulge his optics out onto the floor. Obviously that little bit of radio chatter did nothing to improve his mood. Still, he plunges back in, nattering away while seeming to ignore old crazy legs.

Lee-Zard suspected exactly this request from the Doctor when he saw the amount of life-support systems he had been hooked up to. Lee-Zard ceases his scan, but does bring up known data about dealing with nasty nanovirii, just in case. Lee-Zard clings to Broadside while he threatens the doctor. "Does evil doctor plan on transplanting existing neural tissue into cybernetic form, or transfer brainwave functions into replacement cognitive unit?"

"Calm down, Broadside," says... Scattershot? Wow. Seriously. "We can't afford to anger him right now. There's no telling what this nanovirus will do to us." The Technobot has no doubt that Doctor Sixarp is telling the truth. "I, for one, don't want to be turned into a puddle of rust... or worse, a human." Soundwave raises a hand to halt the Autobots. "Wait." He turns to Sixarp. "We would be delighted to assist you in this endeavor. Are you already connected to your consciousness transferance machinery?" Honestly, though, that stuff has never worked out for Soundwave too well. He's betting that the guy will simply mindwipe himself.

Wheelie is advanced robot technology with little legs that /jump/ to try to see what's going on! You're all so tall :(

Lee-Zard isn't tall.

Homunculus isn't either.

Scattershot is.

Broadside is da largest!

"Complete..." Sixarp start to choke again. "Clever little creature, your intellect is almost sentient..." He looks up to Soundwave. "No, not yet. I can be though. I... can. And stop transforming you freak!" he growls, clawed, wrinkled hand waving at Quickswitch. "I am so glad you agree, Decepticons. What of you, Autobots, do you have anything to add to their offer?"

In scale, the hovercraft and carrier triplechanger were nothing to the behemoths lying in wait behind the glass. From time to time, Fusillade slides her gaze to the kilometers long berth of the nebular dreadnaught. Clasping wrist behind her back, resting hands underneath her back-mounted tailfin, she hmms a bit as she paces forward, wending her way through the gathered Autobots and Decepticons. "How do we know what we see aren't just projections? They are behind screens, afterall." She raps obsidian knuckles on the material. Despite that, she gives a wicked snicker as the Autobots are taken to task.

"You need one of us to transfer your consciousness into a new body?" Ultra Magnus asks, his tone skeptical at best. He ignores the old man's mad, gibbering nonsense save for the pertinent facts; he wants to be put in a body that can make him live forever. He has assumedly infected some of them with a nanovirus. And-- "You invited us all here for that?" A part of Magnus wonders why the doctor couldn't just hire someone to do that -for- him, but it's thoughts he doesn't speak aloud. Instead, he looks around him, towards Paradigm. "We could offer our assistance as well. Unless you'd like to place your trust in a group of Transformers known for conniving."

<Autobot> City Commander Ultra Magnus says, "Paradigm, if we transferred his consciousness into this new 'body' of his, could you be able to lock him down inside it? Keep him from using his higher functions to operate the body?"

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "Easily"

<Autobot> Durango says, "This is, assumin' 'e can't 'eah us when we talk on the radio."

Scrapper's scan of Dead End turns up nothing, but he doesn't bother reporting this to the others. Instead he just moves over to Shockwave, patiently doing a once over on the cyclop's vitals.

"Do not listen to him," Soundwave says. "The Autobots will arrest you if this procedure is successful. It is our help that you desire. Remember, we also are considered criminals by our enemies. We have that much in common, Doctor."

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "And that he hasn't already thought of that, he would be a /fool/ not to. Remember, the technology he spoke of will be given after the procedure. Think of it Magnus. He spoke of infinite energy production. The /lives/ that we could save"

Broadside just remains quiet for the time being, as the others are actually considering this action to be permitted. He shuts off his optics for a moment, then turns them back on. Then, he simply shakes his head.

Sixarp slowly nods, a withered, shaking hand wiping dribbling bile from his mouth. "Indeed Decepticon, though none would /dare/ to cross me. Their presense will make this interesting. What else are you willing to give me. How /far/ will you go?"

"Me Lee-Zard have question;" The little green Junkion asks, rasing one little hand. "Wonder if Doctor Sixarp has tested consiousness transferrance system? Me hear they tend to malfunction, or make you go bananas."

Scattershot mutters, "He's ALREADY bananas..."

<Autobot> City Commander Ultra Magnus says, "How many lives will he take if allowed to continue his experiments and production of his doomsday weapons, Paradigm? Unless you have an alternative to suggest, I can't allow a madman like that to continue on -- in a body that will never age, no less."

The hovercraft pulls apart into a sprawling, snarling puma and then a huge robot, "Of course!" he smiles, then sneers, "...Up your aft." He's got his hands gripped tightly around his twin blasters. And oh, that's not a triplechanger, Fusi. A series of six more eye-burning rapid transformations later and a large robot hrmmmmms, then snaps. Totally. There's a quite loud protest from the Sixchanger, about Soundwave and certain Cybertronian componants and what he can go do with himself.

Assault Hovercraft <Quickswitch> finally ends as a jet, engines humming. Grrr.

Accelerated, Quickswitch transforms into a sub-orbital jet.

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "Then when we have what we want, we restrain him. It is simple, Magnus"

Shockwave watches as Scrapper runs his scan and ponders the doctor's request. //We have plenty of Decepticons who could be used as a containment device for this doctor's brain. Blueshift for one, Redshirt, maybe Soundwave can... Worth asking.//

Scattershot calmly, quietly, calculatingly... smacks a sub-orbital jet upside the cockpit. "Quickswitch," he hisses. "Cut it OUT."

<Autobot> Lee-Zard says, "Me Lee-Zard think we could reverse the process?"

Sixshot snorted to himself at the so called arguments going on. Both were right ofcourse, Ultra Magnus and Soundwave, but if Sixarp was as intelligent as he proclaimed to be...then this would be no suprise to him at all. Only a fool would invite their two factions without some kind of preparation. He had confidence in his commander to deal with whatever could be slung at him, the head of DCI was very adept at twisting things back into their favour, especially when it came to words. A brief glance was spared to Quickswitch and Scattershot, the forming being the one likely to start a mess. Hmm...

<Autobot> City Commander Ultra Magnus says, "That leaves the virus he's infected us all with. If he even senses something is amiss, I don't doubt he'd activate it in a heartbeat."

"Will you stop that /transforming!" Sixarp shouts at Quickswitch, getting even more agitated at the sixchanger's antics, clawed, wrinkled hand shaking in anger as he tries to shout, but only croaking, voice raised in anger. "I can't think with you-" his voice cuts out suddenly as his hacking cough gets worse, his eyes bulge, and he suddenly vomits a wave of black bile, hand clutching at his chest as he jerks violently, and then his head flops down. The life support machine beside him starts to screech as it goes into flatline, and...


Very, very heavy bulkhead doors start to slam around the main atrium, sealing every corridor off, as the bunker goes into automatic shutdown mode, the flatline humming as the only noise.

Well done Quickswitch

Soundwave dares to step a little closer to the Doctor. "I have... copied my own personality, many times, onto new cybernetic brains in the past." They all turned out to be a little nutty, and radically different in personality, especially Americon, but that's besides the point. "I am the ideal candidate to perform this operation. In fact, if you prefer, we could provide with a powerful DECEPTICON body..."

Sub-Orbital Jet <Quickswitch> reverts back to robot mode, "What?" he inquires quietly of Scattershot. What's he done? He hasn't done anything! Oh wait. Yes. Yes he has, "Oh slag..."

Soundwave abruptly stops in the middle of his manipulations. Oh, crap.

Quickswitch springs up into his massive robot mode.

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "Oh, for..."

Sixshot says, "..." Well, that didn't take long did it.

<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "I can't help it! You KNOW that."

"This is bad," Scattershot points out. "This is VERY bad. Lee-Zard, any sign of that nanovirus? I've got a hunch..." His hand tightens on his gun. Though, really, fat lot of good a gun's going to do against a virus.

Broadside watches carefully at it seems the doctor has died, quickly he runs his hands on his head and looks at his superstructure. "Is the Virus taking effect?" He asks quickly, trying to figure out if he was one of the infected formers. Though, his optic visor turns towards Lee-Zard for a moment, hoping he has something to say about it.

Fusillade HEYS audibly as the view is cut off. "I was admiring THAT!" And probably scalping some design ideas for an upcoming Decepticon project. "I smeltin' swear..." She turns around, scowling visibly as she turns a wilting glower on the main gaggle of Cybertronians.

<Autobot> City Commander Ultra Magnus says, "--For the love of Primus..."

Homunculus is working very hard at not being a loose cannon at the moment, but with all the blathering Autobots, doddering old codgers, and lack of violence it's getting quite hard to stay calm. "What more do you wish," he manages to force out, although it seems obvious the words taste awful. Keeping his fists balled, he concentrates on keeping calm, keeping calm. And then Sixarp goes and dies. "I didn't get to kill him," Homunculus barks angrily just as things start to turn ugly.

Scrapper finds nothing on Shockwave as well. One by one he visits the Decepticons and ignores the Autobots, scanning them and coming up empty. He only glances up when Sixarp gets angry at Quickswitch. "Autobots are annoying, doctor," he says as if everyone should already know that.

Lee-Zard blinks at the doctor's untimly demise, and quickly resumes his scanning for signs of the nanovirus. Of coruse, since Broadide is so large, it could be a while. "Me Lee-zard will look! You let me know if you start to feel funny... Hightened external temperature, decreased viscosity levels or other signs of infection." Lee-Zard scrambles down Broadside's body, weaving his scanner back and forth.

Fusillade whips two fingers to the ceiling in a silent indication to the other Decepticons, and swirls it in a wide circular motion. She activates anti-gravs, and then bobs backward to the other Decepticons, silently indicating to them to circle.

Dead End keeps an eye on Wheelie to make sure the poetical Autobot doesn't cause anymore trouble as the Redshirt continues to look with excited interest at everything going on around him. Dead End is beginning to feel more downcast as a result.

"..." Slowly, Ultra Magnus squints. And then, as Sixarp starts to flatline, and everything around them begins to shut down and close in, he jerks -backwards-, his hands grasping for his plasma rifle. "You can say that again, Scattershot. Autobots, be ready! Paradigm, see to the doctor! If he's dead, and that Virus of his is as real as he said it was, we're going to be in a -lot- of trouble, here."

<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "...Oh slag..."

<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "I didn't mean to kill him..."

The Decepticon gumby known as Redshirt stares vacantly about as all this happens. He's just excited to be in space. "Gosh guys, this is really grand, isn't it?" he says as Sixarp dies. "What larks, eh?" And then... he staggers back, breathing heavily, twitching, as suddenly a huge mass of mechanical tentrils burst from his torso, letting him fall back. The tendrils quickly form into some sort of robotic creature, multiple eyes looking about, everything it touches being quickly absorbed into its body as it gets larger, and then growling, launches itself into the middle of the Cybertronians, shooting off optic lasers blasts from its multiple eyes.

Horrible Robot Monster Thingy has arrived.

Horrible Robot Monster Thingy unleashes its area_ranged attack on Ultra Magnus, Soundwave, Scattershot, Sixshot and Lee-Zard, striking Ultra Magnus, Scattershot, Sixshot and Lee-Zard.

<Autobot> Lee-Zard says, "Let Lee-Zard know if you feel effects of nanovirus now that nasty doctor is dead."

Shockwave looks at Ultra Magnus "Let is be known that Autobots were this poor scientist's downfall. Your hyper-active sixchanger failed sixchanger prototype did this on purpose knowing the doctor's weakened state. It looks like premeditated murder to me." As a precaution Shockwave powers up his nuclear reactor and begins analyzing the structure for the thinnest/weakest place that ce be burned through. He watches in silence and fascination as Redshirt is taken by the virus.

<Autobot> City Commander Ultra Magnus says, "We've got bigger problems than that right now! Autobots, take down that... thing, whatever it is!"

Scattershot immediately starts shooting. It's kind of his shtick. "DIEEEE TENTACLE BEAST!" he roars, firing wildly at the tentacled virus-bearing creature. The attack slams into him, and he staggers, but comes up fightin'. "You think that's all it takes to get me down??" he demands, already in the fever of battle. "DON'T MAKE ME LAUGH!"

Scattershot strikes Horrible Monster Thingy with Disruptor.

Soundwave peers up at Fusillade, and, getting the message, he leaps up into the air, joining the circle. And right in time--the Horrible Robot Monster narrowly missed him with a laser blast. Shocked, Soundwave all but presses himself up against the ceiling, trying to get as much as distance between himself and the creature as he can get. "Decepticons! Kill that creature!" he orders, pointing at the beast but not joining in the shooting himself. After all, he wants to save his strength for when this gets REALLY bad.

Paradigm stands by the doctor, examining the body. "Unless his species is able to survive without the constant supply of blood material, then yes, he is dead Magnus. As anyone can see"

Scrapper jolts backwards as Redshirt (poor bastard) is tentacled. "Primus!" Scrapper shouts. His laser pistol is already out as his magic murder bag falls to the ground, clattering onto its side with the top open. His laser screwdriver, medical tricorder, and various other items from other franchises spill out onto the floor. As Scattershot attacks it, Scrapper holds off. Maybe it'll just kill whoever attacks it? Best to find out by letting everyone else take a crack at it first.

Broadside quickly moves his hand up, and he leaps way from the gumby. His hand moved towards his shoulder, so Lee-Zard wouldn't be tossed off of him. "Music to my ears." He says, and pulls his vibro-axe from his side. "Hang on, Lee-Zard!" He yells, and runs at the beast. He then rears his hand back, and punches the creature with a mighty blow!

Broadside strikes Horrible Monster Thingy with Punch.

"Well..." Ultra Magnus begins as that horrific monster mutates out of Redshirt. "... I guess that answers the question of whether there was a virus or not. Autobots! Take this thing out of commission, now!" Scattershot seems to get the point faster than most, blasting away at the creature. Magnus himself aims his rifle and fires off a single, medium-power burst of flaring plasma, the beam seeking to pierce straight through the mutated Decepticon. Ultra Magnus strikes Horrible Monster Thingy with Plasma Rifle <Low Power>.

Dead End steps backward, retrieving his compressed air pistol from subspace as the poor Gumby beside him is tentacled to death. He turns to face the hideous thing that the Gumby has been transformed into which causes him to nump into Wheelie. He shoots the Autobot a look before turning and aiming his weapon at the ugly thing before pulling the trigger and filling the chamber with a sound of rushing air. Dead End strikes Horrible Monster Thingy with Air 360.

Bluestreak spins slightly as he sees the gumby 'Con collapse and...something... bursting from the body. Fortunately, he was too far away to get struck by the monster's lasers--although he quickly brings his rifle out of subspace and fires a quick shot at the monster as well. Talk about things going from bad to worse...!

Bluestreak misses Horrible Monster Thingy with his Blue Bolt Rifle <Low> attack.

Homunculus is practically quaking with fury that the Doctor died before he could blast him to atoms. He almost misses Fusillade's signal in the red haze that seems to float across his vision. It's a tactically sound maneuver, and the tape moves to comply even as the whine of his weapons capacitors climbs towards their peak. Unfortunately, that's when poor Redshirt explodes into a horrible, tentacled robeast. Having been airborne for most of this little gathering, the small figure takes the opportunity to rise closer to the ceiling while he waits for his opportunity to unleash a little pain.

Durango falls into a defensive position around Paradigm, as he was standing fairly close to the dude. He also takes this opportunity to shoot at the crazy tendril-thing, because that seems to be in keeping with the protecting Paradigm mission he's put himself on. Also, shooting things is fun. Durango strikes Horrible Monster Thingy with Canberra Cannon :(A Well-Balanced Meal): Setting.

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "I am sure in the future we can have Quickswitch fitted with a transformation inhibitor"

"Don't TOUCH it, you MORON!" Fusillade snarls out to Broadside, slipping into SOP when it comes to dealing with triple-changers. Ask Octane, Blitzwing, and Astrotrain about that sometime. She snaps out her chromed Desert Eagle styled disruptor, and aims for the junction of the converted Redshirt's torso and chest. "Kill shots, folks."

Fusillade strikes Horrible Monster Thingy with Not So Standard Issue Argon Disruptor.

Lee-Zard lets out a squeal as he is blasted by laser beam from the vile tentacled creature, leaving a smoldering hole in his body. "Be careful Broadide, Lee-Zard not think-" And he is interupted by Droadside's attack. "Me not think you should touch wierd creature thingie!" He says, and spits a pitiful little blast of flames at the horrible creature.

Lee-Zard strikes Horrible Monster Thingy with fire.

Shockwave leaps up as per Fusillade's suggestion and takes aim at the beast deciding to test it's mettle. Shockwave goes to work into testing his theory with some infrared beams.

Shockwave strikes Horrible Monster Thingy with Microwave Blast.

The beastly creature keeps roaring, constantly twisting its form as it grows and mutates, shards of armour blasting off it as it tries to build new ones, a whine in its belly as all its eyes turn to Shockwave, letting out a horrific screech and a blast from its 'mouth'

Horrible Robot Monster Thingy strikes Shockwave with plasma.

Just where he wanted to be, stuck with a bunch of Autobots facing off on weapons of destruction that didn't care about factions. Sixshot turned to face the Decepticon as he struggled with what literally tore out of him, quite happy that it wasn't him who'd been inflicted. Still, it would be the least he could do to take him down with any kind of decency, the Autobots would have to wait. His armour registered the laser strikes in an almost casual manner, not having moved quickly enough to avoid the scattered attack. He chose to remain on the ground for the time being, shifting to something more appropriate. The large battery lifted and levelled itself, releasing several blasts at the mutated seeker.

Dropping to the ground, Sixshot splits and realigns into an intimidating armoured assault carrier, bristling with weapons.

Sixshot strikes Horrible Monster Thingy with Concussion Blaster < low level >.

"What did Sixarp turn that poor Decepticon -into-...?" Ultra Magnus wonders aloud as the thing -continues- to mutate. He can't help but feel bad. Decepticon or not, the process looks painful at best. "Autobots, put on the heat! Put this thing out of its misery!" He continues to fire, his plasma rifle thrumming with intensity as a hot white bolt of energy spews forth from the barrel twice, beams of plasma intent on helping strike the creature down. Lee-Zard scampers down to Broadside's back, hoping to avoid the attention of the creature. He's just a little geckobot, not suited for fighting. He uses his scanner to take in data about the bizzare transformation, and starts calculating a possible way to stop or slow the creature's regenerative powers. Ultra Magnus strikes Horrible Monster Thingy with Plasma Rifle <Medium Power>.

Horrible Robot Monster Thingy is deactivated under the fierce barrage of attacks.

"I TOLD YOU TO DIE!" Scattershot roars, heedless of the danger of the battle around him. He stands his ground, firing shot after shot into the monster. "WHY ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?!" Needless to say, the Technobot Commander is upset that the nanovirus-created monster has not succumbed to his insistent assault as yet. Pew. Pew pew.

With a final screech, the monster drops to the ground, hissing, steaming, but inert. As it dies, it explodes a gigantic cloud which fills the entire room, and then just as quickly disipates

Shockwave is struck by a high intensity sonic blast which rocks his frame. He then turns back to return fire but sees the create seems...'dead'. Something is not right, this is way too easy considering what happened last time. Last time was a fight for survival. This was a far.

Scattershot breathes heavily as he comes out of his battle fever, looking around the area. He seems almost surprised to see that there are other mechs present, but recovers quickly. "Alright," he says quietly. "Now what?"

"Now" Paradigm mutters. "We find a way out of this place. This can't be the only surprise. I recommend working together until we can get the doors open, unless we are all intent on committing suicide." He stalks to the steaming body of the dead monster, giving it an examination, and then looks at the twitching body of the seeker it detached itself from.

Soundwave suddenly shouts, "Deactivate all air-intake systems! Do not let the gas into your internal systems!"

Just then, however, Americon comes out of *freaking nowhere* steps into the middle of the cloud of gas. He sighs happily as he stretches his arms. "What a BEAUTIFUL day, here... IN AMERICA."

"Americon, you--" Soundwave starts. Well, the cloud hit everybody. So maybe he shouldn't yell at the guy. Still Americon seems to be scratching at his arm in rather persistent way...

Homunculus decides it's definitely past time to join the fray. A quick mental checklist: Gun? Check. Horrible Rampaging Monster? Check. Screaming, chaos, and destruction? Check. It's days like these it's great to be a psychotic Decepticon death tape. He smiles for a moment as the beast scores a hit on Shockwave, he was never that loyal anyhow. Cannon maw glowing with destructive light, Homunculus hefts the weapon and . . . the creature dies. "NYYYYYYYARGGGGH!" Bellowing in frustration after not getting to kill something for the second time today he pivots in the air and looks ready to simply storm out of the barracks, big blast doors notwithstanding. Rather unexpectedly, he lurches to a halt. "Wha-," he exclaims in some surprise as his limbs begin to twist painfully. Then, as if carrying out his next-to-last instructions, his cannon arm powers up again and just starts blasting everything in sight. If he wasn't going to get thoroughly thrashed for doing so, Homes might actually enjoy it. Homunculus unleashes his Arm Cannon Barrage! attack on Scrapper, Soundwave, Scattershot, Sixshot, Broadside, Quickswitch, Lee-Zard, Paradigm, Shockwave, Wheelie, Fusillade and Bluestreak, striking Scrapper, Sixshot, Paradigm, Shockwave, Wheelie and Fusillade.

Sixshot hesitated, returning the large battery to a resting position. That was entirely unchallenging, and he didn't think it was over. Ofcourse, if it was then he could get on with picking apart the Autobots in such a confined area but he obeyed Soundwave's orders almost immeadiately. Whether it was in time or not--

Broadside gets caught in the vapor, as he is so close. For a moment, he just waves away at the gas...That is, until he clenches into place. "What....what's wrong with my arms..." Slowly, he turns towards Magnus, and reaches over at him. " out!" He yells, as he can't seem to control his body. Yet, the gigantic mech tries to pick up the city commander. "Ge...GET AWAY FROM ME!" He yells, and then if he can actually grab the mech, he tries to slam Magnus' back unto his knee.

Broadside misses Ultra Magnus with its backbreaker!! attack.

Dead End has his mouth concealed by a steel face mask: nothing is getting through that seal before he turns to see Homunculus's cannon arm begin to blast everything in the immediate vicinity. Without thinking Dead End acts quickly, diving forward to apparently avoid Homunculus's shots but his true meaning becomes clear as he transforms and roars up the passgeway toward the doors to see if his forcefield and improved armor will break or at least dent the doors enough to assist in the escape.

Dead End smoothly transforms into a maroon Porsche 928

Scrapper's plan worked perfectly. He didn't attack it, and as a result it didn't attack back. Shockwave instead takes the brunt of the assault. He rushes over to the cyclops, forgetting that he dropped his tool kit. "Are you alright, Commander?" he asks. He's about to add something when Homunculus bellows. Startled, Scrapper stares as he begins blasting randomly. "Get down!" he calls out, hitting the dirt. One of the cannon blasts scores a glancing hit on his right shoulder and deflects off. "Wait! Let me scan this thing before you waste Homunculus!" he starts crawling towards his tool kit, trying to stay beneath any additional firepower.

The doors are thick. Very thick. Though they dent slighty at Dead End's attack, its obvious that a long and concerted effort will be needed to get out.

"I agree with Paradigm," Magnus begins as the cloud settles and dissipates. "We all need to work together to get out of here alive, like it or not --" Soundwave's warning receives an odd blink. Of course. That mist. It couldn't be -anything- good. "Autobots, watch out. Who knows what that mist does--"

The Autobot City commander never even gets to finish. Broadside is already ripping forward towards him in a sudden and surprising display of ferocity. Eyes widening, Ultra Magnus -leaps- out of the way, landing in a roll just before Broadside can tear into him nice and proper. "Broadside?! What's the matter with you?!"

Lee-Zard studies his data, but fails to find anything conclusive. "Bad definatly bad... WHOA!" He cries out as Broadside lunges towards Ultra Magnus. Lee-Zard leaps away, and lands on the floor with a *plop*. He scampers over towards the walls, looking for another way of escaping the bunker.

"Oh, slag," Scattershot says, optics widening as everything goes to Planet Hell. He dives out of the way of Homonculus' assault, then reaches a hand towards the Autobot triplechanger. "Broadside! It's the virus! FIGHT IT!" He clenches that hand into a fist. "FIGHT IT OR I'LL HAVE TO FIGHT YOU!"

Paradigm growls angrily as the Decepticon shoots him. "What's the matter, have you gone insane?" he shouts. "Does nobody listen to me?" He doesn't join in the fray though, instead he hoists the body of the seeker, along with the dead monster onto a table. Its not got too bad to waste his energon yet

Bluestreak flinches back as the monster is destroyed, locking down his air-intakes as he shields his face from the mist it released, but he still looks quite spooked. If that happened to that Seeker, what would happen to whoever else was infected? Hopefully-- His thoughts are interrupted as he sees Broadside try to attack Ultra Magnus, although he quickly ducks as Homunculus fires a shot at him. Talk about jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire...

The situation is threatening to spiral out of control. He nods to Scrapper I am allright, a small bruise nothing more." As he finishes his sentence he gets hit by Homonculus which luckily did not hurt but might have done far more damage to the situation as Shockwave's self-preservation routine kick in. Shockwave's combat hud comes up tagging EVERYONE as a potential enemy. Still Soundwave is correct, escape is the number one priority. "Sixshot! Restrain Homunculus. Fusillade, guard my back as I use my x-ray sensors to scan for a weak spot in the structure. Maybe we can focus-fire our way out of this."

With the traditional sound, Shockwave transforms into a giant space-gun.

Shockwave sweeps the area.

Scrapper continues to protest the killing of the infected people, desperately wanting to get readings on them so he can learn more about what's happened to them. His fellow Decepticons pay him no mind and seem intent on going after Homunculus, but there's a chance the Autobots will see reason. Scrapper crawls to his previously fallen tool kit and grabs his medical tricarder. Standing upright, he watches Broadside warily.

Soundwave hovers up above the chaos, firing a concussion rifle shot into one of the sealed doorways. Gah--no good! He peers down at Americon--little guy's scratching that arm something fierce now. Is he?...

Quickswitch's form immediately shrinks into that of a small laser pistol, neatly avoiding Homunculous' cannon blast and hovering itself up a short distance from Broadside. Nooo. (yay!)

Broadside is shaking like a madmech, as he tries to resist these invisible strings that are controlling his form. "I...IM TRYING TO SCATTERSHOT!" The Triple-changer actually rolls out of harm's way as well. He then roars, as he continues to try and fight the virus inside his being. "I...I just can't control my body...." He then turns towards Scattershot, and then attack to attack his fellow Autobot. He extends his arm, and tries to clothesline the smaller mech. "S...Shoot me! You gotta stop me before I hurt someone!! Or forces me into Carrier mode!"

Broadside strikes Scattershot with Clothesline!.

Durango is the luckiest mech alive..somehow, he's been missed by all of the area attacks thus's almost as though no one is remembering to target him. Perhaps his blue and grey exterior fades into the walls. You know what does hit him? The giant cloud of red gas. He blinks. He blinks twice. Luckily, it seems, he got Ultra Magnus' command in time, as he remains somewhat normal, comparatively. He scans the scene in front of him, even as he turns ever so slightly towards Paradigm...just in case the good Doctor got a dose of the evils himself: Durango wasn't a fan of getting surgered in the back by crazed surgeons. As he pans over the crowd, he that the little tape that he battled in the Arctic? And what's his arm doing? Is he... He raises his arms, ready to fire, just in case the little guy goes berzerk.

Suddenly, from Americon's arm bursts forth another mechanical monster, this one not afraid of acting in the open, ripping off a chunk of the tape's arm as it emerges, tiny, red white and blue, and squealing. "RrROoooooooooargh! Aaaaamerica!" It turns on Soundwave, whipping a tendril at him

Horrible Robot Monster Thingy misses Soundwave with its slap attack.

Strikes of energy struck and ricocheted off of his outer plates, scoring a couple blast marks where the markings were lighter but none the worse for wear. Homunculus however had just made himself a viable target for Sixshot along with any troublesome Autobot-- to the other's badluck. He wouldn't pull many shots if it came down too him or the other, virus or no...Soundwave afterall, agreed with him. Perhaps more for his own hyde than theirs, but he didn't feel like quipping technicalities right then. "You better hurry up then Scrapper." He called out, his treads moving in response to carry out his orders. He primed his weapons and took aim, "It'll be easier if he's not moving around as much, yes?"

Sixshot misses Homunculus with his Concussion Blaster < medium level > attack.

Dead End pulls back from the doors, leaving a imprint of his front end in the door, before he transforms and pulls out his air pistol again and takes aim at the doors. If he can't ram them off he'll blow them off. He takes aim at the weak point that he made in the doors before pulling the trigger and causing the air to woosh out of the barrel toward the thickened doors.

<Autobot> Scattershot says, "I... what should I do? He's out of control!"

Laser Pistol <Quickswitch> unleashes a focused blast at the gigantic Triple Changer, aiming carefully and praying the code listens to him.

Quickswitch unleashes its Come get some! attack on Broadside, striking no one.

"Scattershot!" Ultra Magnus shouts over the rising chaos, looking as all hell breaks loose around him. "Restrain Broadside, but try to avoid causing any extensive bodily harm. Understood?" Taking control of the situation as best he can, Magnus looks as a similar affect seems to take hold of the Decepticons. His eyes narrow intently, gaze sweeping back towards Paradigm, already looking over the corpse of Redshirt. "Paradigm, you know what to do! Find out what's causing this and how we can reverse it! I'll--"

And then, he feels a tingling sensation in his arms. His legs. He blinks, and looks down. "... What...?" He squints, slowly... before his hand holding his rifle -jerks- awkwardly to the right, pointing at Quickswitch. "Oh, no. -- QUICKSWITCH! LOOK OUT!" It's the only warning he can give before his finger pulls the trigger on that weapon once, twice, three times, seeking to peg the sixchanger mercilessly. Ultra Magnus strikes Laser Pistol <Quickswitch> with Plasma Rifle <Medium Power>.

The laser blast from Homonculus lands squarely between Fusillade's shoulderblades, but she doesn't quite seem phased by it. Mostly because she's busy ignoring Shockwave's orders. Mostly because she's screaming in abject horror at the maw like growth that has erupted from her torso.

With a muffled shriek, the upper half of her body gets snapped up by what looks like a transorganic razorback. With a clap of wickedly recurbed tusks, it squeals, and shakes out its bladed, bristling mane. What was once Fusillade's wingblades are now chain-whips that flow off the hunch-backed creature's shoulderblades. Opening its maw, the creature stampedes toward Shockwave, eyeslits glittering in the lurid light of the warzone. Snickt-snickt, the tips of its vorpal-shoulderblades nick a few soldiers here and there, but its main target is clear.

Fusillade misses Space-Gun <Shockwave> with her This Little Piggy Went to Market attack.

<Autobot> Scattershot says, "Oh Primus. PRIMUS. Autobots, we need to disable Broadside... and Ultra Magnus."

<Autobot> Scattershot says, "Pick one and start shooting. DISABLE them. Do NOT aim to destroy!"

With the firefight echoing all around him, Paradigm is calmly elbow deep in Seeker, examining the insides, and where the creature attacked. "I would require some help. And perhaps protection" he growls, staring especially at some of the Decepticons whom he knows are very capable at this sort of thing. "Perhaps fighting is just too fun for you all..."

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "Get them shut down quickly, no messing about"

<Autobot> Scattershot says, "Someone cover Paradigm!"

Durango's attention is definately grabbed by the monster that bursts forth from much as he's not a giant fan of Soundwave, by any means, times like htese are no time for playing the odds. His arm tracks the little critter, and he fires when able; although he doesn't take particular care to ensure there's no collateral damage to Soundwave as he does so.

Durango strikes Horrible Monster Thingy with Canberra Cannon :(A Well-Balanced Meal): Setting.

<Autobot> Durango says, "I've got worries!"

Soundwave shifts himself just out of the Amerimonster using his anti-gravity drive, the tentacle lashing just inches from him. "This is madness!" Soundwave says as more people become infected. "Destroy all infectees!" He tries to make good on that order, himself, and fires upon the creature. Soundwave strikes Horrible Monster Thingy with Concussion Blast.

Americon, meanwhile, lies on the ground, clutching the stump of his arm, muttering, "Urr... If I die... bury my body... in America..."

His chamber is struck, sending him spinning end over end with a second blast. A large tank unfolds where the weapon lands, its drill spinning, "Ow." Quickswitch's treads roar in the direction of the City Commander. Maybe he can back him up against a wall and pin him there.

Quickswitch strikes Ultra Magnus with Instruments of destruction (eat this).

Scrapper whirls about. Americon is obviously infected (or suffering from some sort of America related culture issue, though Scrapper is unaware of any fleshling customs that involve exploding in tentacles. Oh, wait, Valentine's Day. Forgot that one). Fusillade as well. Gripping his scanner tightly, he considers which of the infected seems to be the least dangerous. Broadside? Ehhhh. Homunculus? Nope. Fusillade? No. Americon? Bingo. Scrapper responds to Sixshot's suggestion of hurrying by doing just that, rushing towards Americon, "Steady, you malfunctioning twerp..." he runs the scanner up and down as best he can given the circumstances.

Space-Gun <Shockwave> manages to avoid Fusillade's attack. Granted he expected she had 74.56% chance to avoid infection alas he was still keeping tab that in nearly 25% of the scenarios he would have to evade an attack coming from her. He simply flots aside and blasts her with an infrared beam in order to give himself some space to work.

Shockwave strikes Fusillade with Infrared Blast.

Homunculus is just about to snap a comeback into his radio when the nanovirus starts tugging his strings again. "Of all the infernal. . ." Muttering doesn't seem to do much, however, as his primary weapons tracks the scurrying figures around the chamber. The twitching and disjointed control over his limbs actually works in his favor for a moment as a searing burst of laser fire misses the tiny warrior by a fraction of an inch. Too surprised to even complain loudly, Homie is unprepared as he once again shifts around to track a happy victim. The nanovirus doesn't seem to care that someone just shot at him though, and the amethyst beam that erupts from the pint-sized fusion cannon goes streaking off at random even as little worm-like mechanical filaments start appearing from his joints.

Homunculus strikes Space-Gun <Shockwave> with Fusion Cannon <Moderate Yield>.

<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "Somebody get Magnus! Hurry!"

The monster that burst from Americon seems to be rather rubbish, and after these attacks, it falls to the ground, smoking. "NNnnnnmerica" it wails before also releasing a puff of the cloudish-substance

The Technobot Titan doesn't quite dodge in time, and is slammed into the ground by Broadside's assault. Right after, he rolls out of the way and to one knee, rifle levelled at the triplechanger. He notes Ultra Magnus' behaviour out of the side of his optics with despair. "Autobots! Ultra Magnus and Broadside are compromised! Take them down!" He suits actions to words, firing a volley of acid pellets towards Broadside's shoulder joint. "I'm sorry, Broadside," he says quietly. "I'm so sorry."

Scattershot misses Broadside with his Automatic Acid-Pellet Rifle attack.

Bluestreak runs around the outer edge of the room, arming his weaponry as he sees others start to become affected by the virus. /Not good, not good, not good!/ He thinks. He /really/ doesn't want to attack his comrades, but under the circumstances... does he have a choice? He spins around as he charges his rifle and opens fire on Ultra Magnus. Bluestreak strikes Ultra Magnus with Blue Bolt Rifle <High>.

<Autobot> Durango says, "Ahright...I'm no scientist, but I suggest we /not/ kill the li'l buggahs when they appeah..if they'ah alive, they won't release that gas...restrain 'em if one pops out at yeh."

<Autobot> Scattershot says, "Good idea... Paradigm?"

Americon clutches Scrapper's wrist with his remaining arm. "Don't worry about me... worry about.. *gasp* George Washington!... In America..."

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "The seeker's lasercore is clean, it must intercept signals coming from it to the limbs. They are in their right minds"

<Autobot> Scattershot says, "So if we DO destroy the creatures, they release gas to make MORE creatures... if we DON'T destroy them, they continue to control our allies?"

<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "You can parse laser-cores?!"

"Shut up and stop moving!" Scrapper snaps back at Americon. The wrist the Cassetticon grabbed was the one holding the scanner. Scrapper pushes the infected Decepticon away and rescans both him and the cloudish substance, backing up where needed to avoid getting it on him. "I don't care about your Georges /or/ your Washingtons."

Broadside look down at his chest, and actually starts to take control of his form. "Ge....get out of me....." The mighty Triple-changer regains slight control of his body, able to jump away from Quickswitch's attack. Also, Scattershot misses as well. "GET OUT OF ME!!!" Broadside says, and jams his fingers into his own chest chassis. You can hear him strain, as he rips his own chest compartment open. A part of his metallic plating falling off, as he struggles to rid the thing that's inside him. With that, his hand reaches into the mech made openning, and with a mighty heave, he pulls the creature out. "NO ONE MAKES ME HURT MY FRIENDS!" He says, and tosses the creature to the floor.

The creature squeals in someway as it's wrestled from it's place, and then as it hits the slowly starts to turn into vapor like the first one did.

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "Exactly Scattershot. This is why /science/ will always win out over /brute force/"

<Autobot> Broadside says, "ERRAAAAHHH!!!!"

Durango keeps on a constant move in a semi-circle around Paradigm; moving targets are harder to hit, after all. After his initial target drops to the ground. Hearing the general melee over broadband, he sighs, and, as the City Commander was rather close to the doctor, and had the capacity of ruining Paradigm's experiment in one fell made sense, even if it didn't make shoot him. Durango strikes Ultra Magnus with Canberra Cannon :(Heavy on the Starch): Setting.

<Autobot> Scattershot says, "Well done, Broadside. Autobots, keep those intakes covered."

You receive a radio message from Quickswitch: Get /HIS!/

"Listen to me!" Ultra Magnus roars above the chaos; at the very least, his vocal functions haven't been taken over. "Decepticons and Autobots both! Anyone who's capable, help Paradigm to examine that body and figure out how to reverse... -whatever- it is that's going on. Autobots, for the love of Primus, disable m--" He doesn't have to ask twice. With a sickening CRUNCH, Quickswitch rams into him, DIGGING Magnus into a nearby wall. It dents inward slightly, and Magnus' limbs react entirely out of instinct, despite his attempts to resist. Arms -swing- forward, even as Bluestreak and Durango strike him solidly with their combined, smoke rising from his shoulders and chest as he seeks to grip Quickswitch, lift him... and then literally SLAM him into the ground with crushing force. "Don't hold back! Use everything you've got to stop me! -THAT'S AN ORDER-." Ultra Magnus strikes Drill Tank <Quickswitch> with -Takedown-.

<Autobot> Scattershot says, "Paradigm, get back to me when you've got RESULTS. We don't need more SASS."

So many targets, so little time. Sixshot was at the buffet table with a case of heavy indecision. Ultimately, the goal was to get out of here, the confines were too crampt to fully make use of his abillities, on top of that he didn't know how long it would take for everyone to show signs of infection. If everyone was infected that is. He had no interestin lingering long enough to find out, and with a mind to keep Scrapper somewhat 'safe' and take down the others that threatened, he stuck to his tempting as it was to shoot down Ultra Magnus, his own Autobots were doing a fine job of it.

...That he missed Homunculus after what he just went through left him a bit irritated admittedly. And he thought to fully explore this. He transformed and stepped foward, right for Homunculus, his fist crashing in to knock him down. Sixshot reverts with a swift series of twists into a formidable robot. Sixshot misses Homunculus with his Clocked One attack.

Paradigm starts to stalk towards the fallen Broadside, scooping up the remains of the creature, examining it. "It is a weapon, nothing more, nothing less" he announces. "And like all weapons, it would have a failsafe, or why wouldn't the doctor have used it in a military campaign. SCRAPPER!" he then shouts. "You are not a nurse, get over here and help"

Broadside with a mighty roar, Broadside runs at Ultra Magnus and tries to grab him for all the Autobots. "Take him down, ILL HOLD HIM!" Yet, hopefully the Triple-changer can get ahold of the city commander.

Broadside misses Ultra Magnus with its grasp attack.

Scattershot sprints towards the Autobot City Commander after he sees Broadside do his badass thing. "Good work, Broadside! Now help me get a hold of Ultra Magnus!" It would appear that Broadside is way ahead of him... but missed his shot. "Don't worry, big guy! I'll try next!" He dives for Ultra Magnus, going for a flying tackle. "Somebody get that thing OUT OF HIM!" Scattershot is reaching his limit. He is really not patient enough for this command gig.

Scattershot succeeds in grasping Ultra Magnus, throwing him off-balance.

Scrapper glances over at Paradigm while still scanning Americon as he's shouted at. "What?!" he yells back at the Autobot. Instinct tells him to tell Paradigm to go f--- himself, but ultimately he wants scans of Broadside as well. "Great Straxus..." he says in awe of Broadside's badassery. The Constructicon finishes up with Americon and rushes towards Broadside. "I'm here to help!" he lies.

Bluestreak clenches his jaw before he shouts, "Quickswitch, get back!" His shoulder-cannons noticeably arm as he fires a rocket at Ultra Magnus' torso, trying to avoid accidentally shooting any of the other Autobots nearby.

Bluestreak strikes Ultra Magnus with Shoulder-Mounted Rocket Launcher <Single>.

Seek energy and metal. Consume. Just as the nanovirus had begun to consume Fusillade physically, it begins seeking more energy and power. Primus knows Fusillade, if consciously aware of what was going on, sure as smelt wouldn't have selected her Commander to attack. This, however... this seething monstrosity of oily slick pili that begin jutting from the razorback's spine and hips senses the fusion reactor, and its thirst burned with a ferocity that could not be slaked.

Several chunks go flying off from the creature's chain-sword shoulders. The blasted off metal shimmers with silver wrath, only to be replaced by maroon coils that vacillate with inimical menace. With clatter of what are now cloven hooves, the phantasmogoria gurgles, before belching forward a pair of missiles, their exhaust trailing the nanovirus particles, in Shockwave's direction. Must have sustenance...

Fusillade strikes Space-Gun <Shockwave> with Big Bad Wolfsbane.

Durango backs up, away from Ultra Magnus, as his primary directive decides he's going on the prowl for more alien attack-bots. "Yeh'd be easiah teh covah if yeh stood still, Paradahm!" He maintains a one-mech perimeter around the scientist, as he watches Broadside's ill-fated attempt at pinning Magnus. He sees Scrapper running towards the mess, and his first instinct is to blast him one while he had the chance...instead, he's forced to blast Magnus, combining with Bluestreak once again.

Durango strikes Ultra Magnus with Canberra Cannon :(A Well-Balanced Meal): Setting.

"Good" Paradigm mutters to Scrapper. "Or we'll just be going round in circles if we only fight. Logic is the only answer. Take scans of Broadside, then join me at the table with the seeker." He starts to walk away back to his makeshift examining table

Drill Tank <Quickswitch>'s front end meets the ground. Metal dents and groans, "OW..." The tank dissembles into the form of a large, mutantish robot. He reaches up, touching one smokingm heaten shoulder. At Bluestreak's shout, there's a blur of motion and a puma dives to the floor, letting off a blast of his tails toward the City Commander.

Quickswitch strikes Ultra Magnus with Kiss my aft!.

Americon groans, "Wait, don't leave me in America!" Totally contradicting himself from earlier. But then, his legs pop off of his waist, and become little snakes! "InAmerica! InAmerica! InAmerica!" they chant at a rapid-fire pace as they scurry across the ground.

Soundwave realizes that the Doctor must've included some sort of controls for the room near his chair--probably concealed somewhere on his person. If he found them, perhaps he could use them? He lands near Dr. Sixarp and begins to search him and his seat for anything out of the ordinary.

"Stop SHOOTING him!" Scattershot bellows. "Come OVER HERE and PULL THE DAMN THING OUT!"

Space-Gun <Shockwave> turns around and targets Homonculus but before he can fire he is hit by a missile from Fusillade. The threat assessment system steps up her priority and fires off a blast of Ultraviolet ray. "This will not end well." The space-gun ponders nuking the tape with a unhealthy dose of gamma rays but he might need the eneron to get out of this place. Instead he fights conservatively and retransforms into his robot mode.

Shockwave strikes Fusillade with Ultraviolet Blast.

Broadside pulls his arm back, and wrests his axe free from his side. "Im sorry Magnus, but I gotta get it out of you!" With that, Broadside tries to slash his axe into the chest of the city commander. Should it work, he'll try to dig out the creature, though, most likely that means he'll be right in the line of fire if Ultra Magnus goes mech crazy on his aft.

Broadside strikes Ultra Magnus with Doink!.

Homunculus doesn't get much of a chance to reflect on who his body just shot at. He'd wince if he had some control over his little frame, but he doesn't so he simply imagines that payback for this will be hell. He sees Sixshot trying to smash his face in, but he can't really do much about it. The wiggling techno-beast in his innards is quite capable, however. Much more smoothly this time, his host reacts to the oncoming threat and steers him to safety. Recognizing that its foe is determined, the tentacle thing wiggles its little leg things at him mockingly before making Homunculus try to knock the sixchanger's face off.

Homunculus strikes Sixshot with Double Axe-Hand.

"You got it," he says to Paradigm, finding this Autobot to be oddly reasonable. The Constructicon takes scans of Broadside while trying to figure out just how -he- resisted the possession while none of the Decepticons have been able to. Clearly Broadside's bout of nanoviruses were defective. Only explanation, Scrapper thinks sarcastically to himself. "Ok, got it," he says to Paradigm once the scan is done.

As Paradigm starts examining the Seeker's body again as it lays on the table, the neck starts to stretch somewhat, slowly dropping the head down to the ground, though Paradigm does not notice this, so intent is he on examining the body. Slowly spider-like legs sprout from it, and two eye like stalks grow out the top, as the now disembodied head starts to try to scuttle away

Tackled and pinned as he is by Scattershot, Magnus is a bit of a sitting duck to all of the following attacks that beat into his frame over and over, damaging him further -- perhaps moreso than necessary, given Broadside's recent display. But the massive Wrecker himself comes with the conclusion as he rushes -forward- towards Magnus' sparking and sputtering form; even with all the damage that's rended and bent his frame, the City Commander still struggles against Scattershot to try to get him -off-... just before that axe digs into and pries open his chest. Fortunately restrained by Scattershot, Broadside is free to do as he will, ripping forth that alien entity as his entire facec scrunches up in absolute pain. Slowly, Ultra Magnus' struggling stops. He breaths out a crackling breath.

"G... guh. I'm -- I'm okay now," he mutters out weakly. "Thank... thank you, Broadside. You did what you had to do."

What the-- did it just, was that a-- /SMACK/

Sixshot's head snapped back from the blow, not enough to stagger him by far, it was just suprising that it happened at all. That he had to bend to punch Homunculus put him within easy reach, and he was scowling furiously behind that faceplate of his. The cassette was the perfect size to experiment with, and thus far...the results were far from satisfactory. Growling, Sixshot folded in, landing lightly he threw himself at Homunculus and his little tentacle waving-self for all intents and purposes, to rip an arm off. Preferably the one that hit him. Scrapper could put it back later. Falling foward onto all fours, Sixshot stands poised as a winged wolf, claws and teeth at the ready. Sixshot strikes Homunculus with Hand that feeds.

<Autobot> Broadside says, "Im...Im so sorry Magnus."

<Autobot> Saboteur Foxfire says, "Did you step on him?"

Dead End turns, realizing that there's little chance of the door being broken open with what he has on hand. before seeing the head rushing towards him. He jumps back, but not of fear, but certainly out of surprise at the onrushing head. He lifts his leg off the ground before moving it back and kicking his foot out toward it. As he happens to be in line of sight of Magnus when he does this there could be a chance that the head will connect with Magnus's head. It's recycling and being proactive.

Dead End succeeds in grasping Ultra Magnus, throwing him off-balance.

<Autobot> City Commander Ultra Magnus says, "Don't apologize. You only -- ugh -- did what was necessary."

Broadside pulls the creature out, and looks down at it. "Back to the pit, from whence you came!" With that, he tosses the creature on the floor, and it stuggles to stay alive. "See you in hell..." He says, and like that, Broadside steps on the creature. Yet, he pulls away this time, and stays away from any of the red haze that may be near the squashed corpse.

The higher energy blast is more effective at searing off nanovirus hijacked components, and as such, a hint of airframe material is briefly visible under the blast. The detached parts shrivel like earthworms on sunbaked sidewalk, and eventually lie inert. There's a lower screech from the possessed Cybertronian, as if it were reconsidering its options. Fusillade will most likely wake up in the repair bay several days from now and call turbobullslag on the reports.

For now, the porcine conversion's attention is drawn by the flash of white, purple, and teal of Sixshot's wolf form. Another, still powerful sorce of energy and materials... the nanovirus transorganic razorback barrels for a t-bone collision course with the winged wolf's flank, maw gaped wide. Fusillade misses Sixshot with her Tusk Gore attack.

Durango glances back and forth from the makeshift lab to the general fray, making sure the scientist...scientists are safe. This is getting to be ridiculous...what the hell kind of being would even create such a virus? He was honestly glad the sadistic little fricker was dead. Magnus was taken care of....Americon was..well, done. He turns his sights to the abomination that was laying siege to Shockwave, and is about to fire when he's distracted by Dead End bending it like Beckham..that means no one is dealing with the door. As odd as it felt, he called over to his oft-time sparring partner. "Dead End...get up 'eah an' protehct Scrappeh an' Paradahm..I'll blast that doah open.."

Soundwave turns around as the snake things slither towards him. They're easy enough to hear coming, the way they constantly chant, "InAmerica!" At the last few yards, they throw themselves in the air at Soundwave, their little teeth gnashing. "Get away from me!" Soundwave booms, and smacks them both across the room with a backhand. Too close!

Paradigm looks up from his examination of the body as he sees Dead End kicking the disembodied spider-head away, slightly taken aback that the head tried to escape. That's... that's certainly never happened before. "Catch that thing!" he shouts. "Don't kill it or let it escape." He looks to Scrapper. "There must be a reason Sixarp hasn't used this nanovirus. It seems effective, almost too effective. It is an adapting weapon, much like your katamari technology but so, so much more poetically beautiful..."

Dead End looks around at Durango as he rests his right foot back on the ground as the head he kicked to soar in the direction of Magnus's direction. He nods toward Durango before he moves between the scuffling Cybertronians before he comes to stand near Scrapper and Paradigm before turning to face the fighting transformers with his weapon at the ready. "I hope you will be quicker in actions then you are in speech, Autobot."

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "Cut the infection out if you have to, I cannot work with this racket going on"

Ok, maybe the mocking little tentacle waving wasn't the best idea. Very sharp, very dangerous teeth latch on to Homunculus' arm. "For the love of. . ." is about all he gets out before the limb is wrenched free in a shower of sparks. Bits of debris scatter across the chamber; small scrapps of armor and wiring pelting everyone nearby. Even as the momentum of the attack sends the diminutive Decepticon tumbling through the air, a spurting flow of energon and viscous erupts adding to the nasty things flying through the air. Tucking some of its more vulnerable parts back inside, the possessing-virus-creature manages to bring Homunculus to a stop, but it isn't giving up that easy. It may be down a limb, but the cannon arm is still there. Despite the pain tearing through the body, it still responds to its new master and fires.

Homunculus strikes Sixshot with Fusion Cannon <Low Yield>.

Scrapper has numerous people watching his back. It is nice to feel loved, but Scrapper hasn't the time to dwell on it right now. Still aware of Broadside's sheer badassery (Scrapper will have to find some other loser Autobot triplechanger to make fun of. Sandstorm, probably), he folds up his medical tricorder in success, but keeps it in his hands. "I'm not sure I follow," he replies to Paradigm. Did Sixarp not use the nanovirus just now?

<Autobot> Broadside says, "Wait! Didnt the doctor say he had something upstairs?"

Durango glances back at Dead End. "Don' be jealous, Deceptehcon." With that, he's off and running for the door, both hands reaching into subspace and returning with his trademark boomerangs..he flicks both switches, and without even slowing down, throws them in rapid succession at the doors; they'll make quite an explosion..hopefully, they'll make quite a dent.

Paradigm still leans over the carcases. "Yes. In a controlled laboratory condition. Why not just release it though, it seems to infect any mechanical structure, it would be a deadly weapon, he could easily have laid waste to planets at his whim with it"


That'd be the sound of a head striking Ultra Magnus right in the nogging.

"Wha-- augh!" Letting out a brief exclamation of pain, Ultra Magnus, still battered as he may be, is remarkably quick to grasp the squirming... -head- with one snapping grasp of his right hand. "... What in the world is this supposed to be?" He wonders aloud, keeping a firm grasp on it. "Paradigm!" He thrusts the hand out, showing the head, writhing legs and all, to the scientist. "Is this what you wanted?" He'll keep a firm hold on it, struggling to get up as he moves towards the table, keeping a firm grasp on the head should it try to escape.

THOOM! THOOM! THOOM! Durango's explosives batter at the door, buckling it... and slowly a hole appears... to reveal another, identical door behind it

Scattershot steps back, releasing Ultra Magnus once the deed is done. "Well, that was exciting," he mutters, then turns to survey the rest of the room. The Decepticons are still going at it, probably using this as an excuse to work out one of their eternal internal conflicts. "Broadside, help me cover Ultra Magnus. Quickswitch..." Scattershot seems to be at a loss, then he sees Durango's attemps on the door. "Quickswitch, help Durango with the doors. We need an exit." His head swivels to Paradigm. "Right? Or... if we breach the door, is this virus just gonna fly off into space and destroy the universe?"

Space-Gun <Shockwave> turns around and targets Homonculus but before he can fire he is hit by a missile from Fusillade. The threat assessment system steps up her priority and fires off a blast of Ultraviolet ray. "This will not end well." The space-gun ponders nuking the tape with a unhealthy dose of gamma rays but he might need the eneron to get out of this place. Instead he fights conservatively and retransforms into his robot mode.

Dead End gazes at the newly revealed door as the old one is destroyed by Durango's explosive boomerangs before he tur ns to look over at Paradigm as the other is questioned by Paradigm. "The universe is destined to be destroyed. If it is not now then it is us who'll be destroyed. Either way a universe of some sort is ending here."

"Oh you mean why didn't he use it /before/. Ask your questions more clearly," Scrapper scolds Paradigm. As for the answer... "Stupid Autobot, you don't know anything about mad science. Allow me to educate you: the only reason this Sixarp fellow wouldn't have used this thing before would be because either a) he's smart enough to always keep a trick up his sleeve in case something goes wrong, or b) there's a terrible and easy weakness that can defeat... the... nano... virus..." Scrapper pauses and thinks about this. "Ah, alright, you may have actually been onto something." The Constructicon backs away, putting his back against a wall for protection while he reviews his scans. There's something... there. With everyone giving him the time he needed, Scrapper just might have it. "Hey!... hey, I want to test something! Anyone capable of raising the temperature in here by... oh, twenty-nine astrodegrees... do it!" That'd make things sweltering in here, but survivably by a Transformer's standards.

Shockwave dives towards Homunculus swinging his fist towards the tape's face slowly and will hurt a bit. "I have your back Sixshot. You may proceed with Fusillade's sterilization."

Shockwave strikes Homunculus with Right Cross.

Broadside turns to look around at the constant chaos about him, though he then notices that Durango is trying to open the door. "What choice do we have, Paradigm. If we stay here, they'll just keep infecting us!" Yet, with all his might, Broadside raises his arms up and runs at the door. He tries to lunge his entire form, using his weight to shoulder bunt the door down and possibly any behind it.

Sixshot spat out the piece of limb, sure that this isn't what Rippersnapper had in mind when he wanted a 'trophy', he wouldn't be taking anything here back anyways...unless it were still attached to a functional Decepticon. The last thing they needed was to take back to Earth any part of this debacle. It was likely the only thing that saved him from direct contact with the pesky razorback that had originated from Fusillade. His head turned at just the right time, he caught sight of it to leap into the air, the wings that had laid low against his back arched and he snapped back at it tauntingly.

Not so much in time to avoid Homunculus' quick recovery, the blast hitting him full on in the side to send him crashing back to the ground to skid to a halt a few feet later. Thanks to the virus no doubt, Sixshot wasn't quote so forgiving. He'd just finish the job, once he was back on his feet, shaking off the effects.

And then orders changed that again. "I'll be back to 'help' you Homunculus." He called, a raw rasp to his voice before bounding back towards the bomber. As he did, he twisted and straightened, snapping a hand out towards her, trying to shove her up against a wall, effectively pinning her so he could get to what needed to be done. It wasn't gentle, if he could stun the host, it may help. Sixshot strikes Fusillade with Rough Wall-Pin.

The door, however does not budge. Poor poor Broadside, it is not his day

Broadside falls back on his aft, and grabs his head...which struck the door as it did not budge. " head..." he complains.

Paradigm snaps his fingers. "Yes Scrapper, using my knowledge as a base, you have taken the small step needed. But you think too small. Any extreme temperature would kill it, it is an unstable virus. We are on a planet of /ice/. SCATTERSHOT!" He calls "We /have/ to get out of here, the outside temperature will kill the virus"

<Autobot> Broadside says, "...I...I could transform and try to rip the place open?"

Cyber-Puma <Quickswitch> throws his tank self at the door, at a loss what to pose or get into here. He growls at the impediment. Obstacles were meant to slagging FALL, and if not fall, be TORN through. His drill screams as it meets the metal and his treads hug the floor, shoving all his monstrous form toward the solid mass of metal. Sparks fly out of it as the tip tries tearing through the unyielding metal.

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "As a /boat/?"

Scrapper scowls at Paradigm. "You're an idiot, Paradigm. We've been trying to get out. And if there's one thing about Decepticons that you don't know, we know how to make things -hot-." You know what he means.

Drill Tank <Quickswitch>!

<Autobot> Broadside says, "Im a Carrier! Do you know how big that is?!"

<Autobot> Scattershot says, "Not yet, Broadside. We'll keep that idea for later."

<Autobot> Broadside says, "Understood."

Paradigm glares at Scrapper as if the Constructicon is coming on to him. And maybe he is. "Fine, burn us all to death if you want to, I would rather /live/. It seems you are a Decepticon purely because of your limited intellect"

Durango kneels down at the base of the door, and pulls a transformer-sized six-pack of longnecks out of subspace. " me some time..." He begins to mix various compounds from each of the bottles. "Ah'm gonna blow 'em open...." Then, additionally. "...'opefulleh."

Dead End casts another one of his usual dour glances upon Scrapper and Paradigm. "I see even less point in guarding you two if you are going to attack each other."

"You're the scientist, Paradigm," replies Scattershot, sounding unconvinced by the idea. He watches Broadside and Durango pounding away futilely at the doors. Notes the blasts ricocheting off the roof. "Hmm." But that's all he says about that, for now. "I don't have time for this. The doors are too tough, the roof is clearly reinforced... how the slag are we going to get out of here?" He pauses to watch the exchange between the scientists, and snorts in disgust. "Look, as much as I'd like to see you two have a limp-wristed slap fight all night, we need you using your BRAINS, not your EGOS."

Broadside stomps on the ground, as he tries to keep any of the little creatures away from him. "Well you guys better decide on something, or we're gonna all see each other in the junkyard!" Broad then pulls out his pulse gun, and ANNIHILATES a loose alien virus. "I swear to Primus, if Im gonna go down, ill be sure to bring this entire structure with me!" He warns everyone, hoping that it might speeds the plans up.

Durango kneels down at the base of the door, and pulls a transformer-sized six-pack of longnecks out of subspace. " me some time..." He begins to mix various compounds from each of the bottles. "Ah'm gonna blow 'em open...." Then, additionally. "...'opefulleh."

Scrapper hmphs as Paradigm looks like he's going to get his way. This is why he hates Autobots so much. That and because... they're Autobots. Look, Scrapper has a lot of reasons for hating Autobots. Fuming and angry that the nanovirus is sure to meet its end via an Autobot's plan rather than his own (despite the fact that he should just be happy that it's going to be destroyed, period), the Constructicon watches in a dour mood as the heroes and villains work to expose this place to the outdoors.

Bluestreak turns slightly to survey the scene, seeing that Fusillade seems to still be possessed. Is she the last one? The Decepticons seem to be working on dealing with that anyhow, so he doesn't get involved. He turns towards Durango as he hears the other Autobot over the din, somehow, and decides that perhaps he should help make a way out of here too. "Something's better than nothing, right?" He asks Durango as he runs over towards them.

Gaze sweeping out around him, Ultra Magnus keeps a firm hold on that squirming head. "Ugh, this thing is disgusting." Shaking his head, the City Commander looks around him to those still fighting it out. Decepticons, any chance they can get to beat each other. He looks back towards Paradigm, weakly making his way towards the scientist Autobot and the Constructicons. He slams the head down, looking for something to contain it. "So then, we have a way to get rid of this thing entirely?"

Americon groans as the fingers on his remaining hand split off and scurry everywhere, shrieking, "Nimanimanimanima!"

Soundwave, meanwhile, lifts Sixarp's corpse up and gives him a good shake. Surely he's got to have some sort of remote on him somewhere!?

Sixarp's head falls off :(

Drill Tank <Quickswitch>'s drill slows and finally stops. He shifts in form, giving a gruff 'kiss my ass' to the door itself, "Whatever you need," he hisses toward Durango. The puma lifts off, hovering with a pair of narrowed optics as Durango works. Faster than the eye can follow, Quickswitch transforms into a mecha-puma.

"Yes Magnus, we do" Paradigm snaps. "Extreme cold or heat. The Constructicon here wants to blow us all up, I am suggesting the opposite. We do not need the creature anymore, terminate it"

Double-teamed! If Homunculus could still talk he'd probably utter something incredibly profane right now. While that runs through his mind, so does part of his face. Armor that seems pitifully thin at the moment spider-webs with cracks before shattering and pelting Shockwave with bits of a body that could very well be highly contagious. The battered mini-warrior thinks this and a thousand other pointless thoughts while his body goes out fights a war without him. It is considerate enough, however, to let him feel every little ounce of the pain. Isn't that what sharing is all about? While Homunculus' mind waxes on all things non-sensical, his body is once again knocked across the room. This time, however, his grav-systems don't keep him from the floor and he slams into a wall hard enough to fracture his torso armor. The smart thing to do would be stay down, but the parasite inside of him seems almost as tenacious as its host. With reserves likely drawn upon the tape's very life force, his body pushes itself upright using the wall for support. Disfigured and battered, his nearly demolished jaw works in a silent cackle as his arm rises in what is most likely the last thing he'll ever do. Homunculus misses Shockwave with his Fusion Cannon <High Yield> attack.

The move to get into close quarters with any form of nanovirus is risky, but Sixshot's gamble pays off. There's a ululating squeal as it's snatched up, and cloven hooves flail about in the air. There's an audible chuff from the revolting monstrosity as its upper spine meets the wall, and limbs go limp amid a spatter of iridescent oil slick from its maw. However, the surface is still roiling with the multitude of foul constructs, and several lash out at Sixshot's gauntlets and coil about his wrist, still threating to consume him as it had the bomber.

Broadside continues to guard Durango. "Hurry it up!" He says, continueing to smash anything that dares come close. Hopefully a Decepticon might, and he'll accidentally 'smack' it about. His Optic visor keeps on the alert, and he passes a look back to his fellow Wrecker. "How you holding up, Quickswitch!?" He asks, sounding concerned for his fellow comrade.

"Good, then," Magnus mutters out. With a slow reach backwards, the City Commander produces that plasma rifle once more from subspace, pointing it to the head-creature. "Good riddance." And with that last remark, he simply pulls the trigger of the rifle, destroying the head with one single blast. "Durango! How's the progress on our way out?" He turns to move from the table to look towards the display of the Autobots working on making that opening, arms crossing over his broad chest and standing tall despite the damages he's received.

Durango finishes his little concoction, which sits on the floor in the middle of the second door, globular, yet still. He backs up. A long way. "Aright mates..back up; Bluestreak, on the count of three, aim feh that thing an' blast it, would yeh?" He looks over his shoulder to Ultra Magnus. "We'ah about teh find out, Commandeh!" He looks back at the glob, and nods to Bluestreak. "One...two...threeh..."

With surprising speed for someone so large, Shockwave drops to one knee ducking under Homunculus's blast. Target acquisition: Locked. Without even looking he simply extends him gun-arm in the tape's direction and fires off one last blast which should leave it breathing but non-threatning. Leaving the cyclops free to deal with the rest of the infected.

Shockwave strikes Homunculus with X-Ray Blast.

Homunculus falls to the ground unconscious.

Scrapper, still annoyed that Paradigm is getting his way, ultimately has no choice but to suck it up like a man (mech) and go along with it. "Fine, we'll play it your way, Paradigm. But know that heating the place up a mere twenty-nine astrodegrees was doable as well." The Constructicon tucks his tricorder away and, for the first time in a while, draws out his laser pistol.

Dead End pushes back one of the possessed gumby's that lurches toward him, tentacles writhing from his sides and face, before Dead End swings his fist to punch his fist into the gumby's chest before swinging his other hand in a sharp upper cut that knocks the gumby up and backward onto the floor. Dead End levels his compressed air weapon at the gumby before firing a shot at close range causing the metal of the possessed gumby's head to flatten in a rather distressing way.

"I'm fine," issues a stiff, feral voice. Quickswitch hovers about eye-level with the giant triple-changer, eyeing those below with emerald-smolders for optics, eyeing the floor. A curl of his feline lip and Quickswitch suddenly /dives/. The puma's claws outstretched and mouth open in a fierce yowl as he leaps toward his prey.... And twists into a huge, screaming form of a tank, angled toward the floor as his spinning drill impacts and buries itself, sending metal debris flying as the tank slowly tries burrowing his way in.

Homunculus, more or less, explodes it seems. For a moment the small figure is bathed in blinding light. Wait... what is that? Did Shockwave actually manage to shoot the very soul from his comrade in arms? Is this proof of Transformer afterlife? Well, before anyone goes getting religion, it's just the parasite, blown free and vaporized by the heat of the incoming fire! Seriously, Transformer souls? His body on the other hand, hangs in tatters. It hits the ground amidst a spray of body parts and body fluids. It's the end for him, for now. But where ever justice threatens tyranny, wherever good threatens evil, look for him. Homie the kid will ride again that day. Now get along, li'l doggies.

Paradigm raises his optics. "Yes" he mutters. "The floor of course. That's lateral, if nothing else." He turns to Scrapper with an "I told you so" smile

Bluestreak nods to Durango and backs up as well, arming both shoulder-cannons this time. He waits until the two Wreckers are clear, then fires two scatter-rockets--one per shoulder-cannon--at the door once Durango does reach the count of three.

Broadside looks down at the two. "SHUT IT AND OPEN THE PRIMUS FORSAKEN DOOR!" He says, narrowing his optics at the two. He then drops them both, and then points. "Do it now!"

Durango fires at the count of three, as well, just so we're clear.

The doors buckle from the huge explosion that engulf them, bending and rending to reveal from the smoke... another set of blast doors. Sixarp was a real /dick/

<Autobot> Broadside says, "...Plan b...for Broadside?"

"Good thinking, Quickswitch!" Scattershot calls. "The floor isn't reinforced." He frowns, looking at the floor where he's standing. "I don't suppose it would help if I... shot it?"

<Autobot> Scattershot says, "Quickswitch seems to have it under control."

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "If he can make it all the way out, that is"

Durango's head drops back in a slow roll, his optics shut, and he exhales slowly. "Son of a..." He turns, slowly to watch Quickswitch throw down with the floor.

Scrapper ignores (read: pretends to ignore) Paradigm. He also ignores Broads- ha ha, I'm just kidding. It is impossible to ignore such... such potent awesomeness! "Ack!" Scrapper yelps as he's picked up. He winces at Broadside's yell before being dropped, landing on his own two feet. "Fine!" he shouts back at the Triplechanger. He hesitates, not having much in the way of explosive gear for dealing with the door. He takes several laser pistol blasts at the next set, though, for all the good it'll do.

Sixshot cocked his head to the side, taking in the altered Fusillade he'd managed to knock back. "I'm forced to admit..." His voice was thoughtful as he spoke with the kind of unhurried laziness that belied the situation, "that this is not a good look for you Fusillade." His other hand, the one that was free from those grasping appendages that now sought to enmesh itself onto him flexed, picking it's target. "The Denebolian petro-turkey is definately preferable." Sixshot still had time to retort to something that happened more than several breems ago, even another solar system. He just didn't forget that easily, and this was a chance he couldn't pass up!

He plunged his hand into the defiant net, digging his fingers into it with cruel force, getting a grip on it. "Do brace yourself." Was all the warning he'd offer as he launched his body back, tearing and wrenching at the nanovirus with all the force he could muster into his momentum and cables.

Sixshot strikes Fusillade with Riiiiiiiip.

Paradigm glowers at Broadside as he is roughly handled. "I suggest you help Quickswitch /somehow/ rather than using your strength to push people around." He stands up, brushing himself off as he stares up at Fusillade. "Or put that Decepticon down. I don't like how this virus mutates. The sooner we can stop this, the better. Or we might /not/ be able to stop it"

Broadside goes nuts at the this bew blast door. "Glitch!" He yells, and slams both his fists into it. He then punches, then kick at the door. He's basically just going down home Wrecker as he tries to get it open. His Optic visor looks as he only makes small dents in the armor reinforced wall. He sighs, and then tries to look around for something. "Why...WHY did I have to come along. My chassis is ruined, and now Im gonna have to put up with all this in here!"

Scrapper is better at responding to threats of physical pain than Paradigm is, clearly. When Broadside yells at him, he snaps to and starts helping, unlike /Paradigm/. Clearly the Decepticons are better trained for such things. He'll continue to shoot at the door when he's confident that he won't accidentally blast anyone else.

Dead End looks at Durango in a pointed way as the smoke from the explosions clear only to reveal another set of blast door. He strides foward before standing some distance away from Scrapper and Paradigm before he transforms engine. His engine starts to rev as his wheels start to spin, smoking starting to mingle with his exhaust in response to the friction pressed upon his wheels, before he shifts gear and blazes again toward the front of the most recent set of blast doors accelerating all the way. Watch out anyone in his way.

What happens when an unstoppable object hits an immovable one? Dead End is going to find that out when he runs into the door. And it will hurt his head a /lot/

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "Quickswitch, are you /out/ yet"

Soundwave looks around to see if anybody's looking, then tears off a bit of Sixarp's clothing, and wraps the guy's head in it. He'll just... keep that for later.

There is another twist to Dead End's attack this time, however. Rather then relying on pure speed alone there is a steadily brightning glow from his headlights which builds up into a bright red light before the energy is discharged into two dual beams of energy that will hopefully weaken the surface of the door before he strikes it. Hopefully.

...and it does! The door buckles, but it does not break. There is however, a noticeable dent

Durango walks over to the hole, rather nonchalantly, all things considered. "'ey! Quickswitch! Yeh need teh blow anythin' up down theah, lemme know!" He hopes the mech's having some kind of success down there. He doesn't notice the new dent in the door, post-Dead End.

Bluestreak sighs and rubs the back of his helm. "Primus, so much for that," he mutters. He quickly backpedals and stays out of Dead End's way as he watches the Stunticon... try to break down that third door. "We're not getting outta here that way, at this rate."

Drill Tank <Quickswitch> munches through the floor. He's dissapeared and is happily chewing away at things with his drillbit. Soon it shall reach open air or something, he wonders.

"Fine, fine." Scattershot jumps down into the hole to follow Quickswitch. "I'll go down here just in case something needs to be, you know, shot with a gun while he's drilling."

Shockwave leaps up high with the assistance of his anti-gravs which essentially nullify his weight. The cyclops lands hard besides Homunculus's body and picks it up with his good hand leaving his gun-hand free for defense.

Paradigm keeps fiddling with the body on the table, and then breaks off. "Okay, we need to get out of here /now/" he growls. "Tunnel. Go. No slacking." Homunculus is getting extracted to the LZ.

Dead End reverses backward, the front of his good now significantly dented by striking the metal of the door, as he stops some distance back from the door.

Broadside slowly reaches down, and grasps Dead end. He then gives the Stunticon some room to manuever. "You Ready?" He asks in a gruff, and hateful tone. Then, Regardless of whatever the Decepticon says, Broadside slowly spins about. Almost like in a shot-put competition, Broadside gains some momentum, and at the last moment, he tosses Dead End at the now dented door. "Go Dead End, GO!"

The end of the tunnel breaks into air. Cold air. Cold, snowy air. Cold, snowy, wintry air.

It is very dark :(

The sound of grue can be heard in the distance.

There's an energon-curdling efficiency to Sixshot's methods, and this is no different. With the expertise of a hunter field dressing his kill, the six-changer strips away the bulk of the invasive nanovirus-converted mass. There's a sicking crunch and pop of the creature's jaw as the sheath is physically shredded from the grey Decepticon's chassis.

With a gurgle, a set of fingertalons, stripped down of external armor but free of nanovirus influence, paws out weakly at the inner crook of Sixshot's elbow. A rasky hiss of heartbreak, "Oh smelt, the wingblades are gone..." A barely coherent Fusillade, ravaged of a considerable percentage of her external space tiles and weaponry, only very passingly acknowledges the jab. "Petro-turkey," she murmurs before gingerly waving one hole-riddled leg in the air to try to find purchase on the ground.

It is very dark, and the tip of Quickswitch's crimson drill hits air. He doesn't bother announcing the obvious and pushes his enormous hulking tank toward the growing hole. Where does it lead? Who knows. Actually, who cares?

<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "Consider yourselves freed."

Durango smiles as the blast of cold air hits his face. "'ey! Weah' free! Everyone down the tunn--" Oh, Primus...that will hurt, Dead End...and strangely, he felt for him this time. He'd falled into a sense of comraderie with the Cons during this little scuffle. Ah well...down the hole!

Scrapper watches as Broadside grabs Dead End and... "Wait, you're not going to-" throws him at the dented door. "There's no -way- that's going to-" it works! The Constructicon just stares, dumbfounded in shock. He barely even contemplates the fact that this will surely kil lthe nano viruses. Scattershot emerges from the tunnel behind Quickswitch, looks up, then radios back to Ultra Magnus. He transforms to battlestation mode, activating his radar to scan for any hostiles or mad scientists in the area.

<Autobot> Scattershot says, "Ultra Magnus, the tunnel leads outside."

Paradigm is not one to hang about. He too drops down the tunnel to icy freedom. Hurray


The surface of Nothoth is simply one thing - white. Snowy tundras and treacherous mountains lie covered in millenia of snowfall, a thick white sheet of snow is almost perpetually falling across the whole land, as harsh winds whip across. This is the planet's winter - a ten year period where the snow never stops, where it is forever night with lightning cracking constantly across the sky.

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "I would recommend leaving the bunker /immediately/"

<Autobot> City Commander Ultra Magnus says, "Finally. Good work, people."

Paradigm staggers through the snow back to the Autobot ship, as the cold bites through him, he stops, coughing up the energon sluiced remains of a small nanocreature, too small to have taken effect just yet. "Well" he mutters. "Its always good to be right

Fusillade is most likely getting half-drug out. It's debatable whether any consideration is being given to any 'thumps' that might be heard behind Sixshot.

Outside, dead Notwampas and Notyetis all over the Nothoth landscape. Wheelie, wearing a couple of their furs, wanders back into the main group.

Scrapper continues to stare, still in shock at all of this. But then those magical words that are capable of getting people to move... you know those magical words! That's right, Scrapper is thinking about 'CARRIER COMING THROUGH'. "Sonuva." The Constructicon breaks into a sprint, escaping before Broadside expands into his hell-on-earth mode.

Staggering outside after Paradigm, Ultra Magnus rubs at his shoulder, his frame still crackling with excess energon leaks from the beatings he sustained. "It feels good to be back outside. ... Even if the outside is blistering cold. Let's get back to the ship, Autobots; I think it's high time we got out of here." --And then he sees Wheelie has been on a killing spree. Oh lord, the terror.

What was Paradigm doing in the bunker before he left? As he stands by the Autobot ship, he thumbs a small detonator in his hand, and suddenly, the entire bunker explodes in a fireball, flames licking throughout its reenforced structure, eating up all the secrets within. "I trust you're /happy/ now Magnus" he glowers, before he enters the Autobot ship

Homunculus is carried to safety by Shockwave, what a guy.

"Actually," Ultra Magnus begins, looking behind him as the bunker ignites in a hellish explosion, "... I am. Good work, Paradigm. I know you probably didn't want to do that." And with that, Ultra Magnus makes his way to the ship, to head back to Autobot City.

"Locked out in the hubbub, Wheelie had to survive," Wheelie explains to Magnus. "Even if it meant a Notyeti or five."

You enter the Autobot Shuttle <Alpha Trion>.

Autobot Shuttle <Alpha Trion>

The interior of the shuttle is very roomy. There is a highly technical cockpit that seats numerous bots at various stations, and a huge cargo area for additional troops or equipment.

Outside, Aircraft Carrier <Broadside> slides along and right through the door, his body just gliding and tearing up the snow covered terrain as he just shreds anything in his path. "Everyone, move!" He yells, warning anyone that left before him through the door. It isn't long, before the ship becomes un balanced and basically falls to the side. This in turn causes even more destruction. Yet, Broadside transforms back into his robot mode. " no no!" He says, and -wham!- he rams face first into the Alpha Trion.... " not cool..."

Outside, Bluestreak runs out of the tunnel and winces as the full force of the cold makes itself known. Great Primus, he really wants to get back to the City--and sprints towards the Alpha Trion so they can get outta here ASAP.

Paradigm settles down into the ship, a small grin on his face as Magnus gives his little speech. A small data chip from Sixarp's body in his pocket. He was, of course, the first one to get to it...

Outside, Weapons Platform <Scattershot> approves of explosions. And this is quite a big explosion. "Nice explosion, Paradigm. Maybe I was wrong about you science-types." Having determined that there are no further enemies on the planet, he transforms back to space jet mode and circles above the shuttle. "Alright gang. Let's go home, then. Like the blue mech said." He swoops over the field of notyeti and notwampa carcasses, unheeding of all the blood. Broadside ramming the shuttle, though... "Broadsiiiide," he says. "Watch where you're going next time! I can't carry everyone home."

Outside, From Decepticon Shuttle <Despoiler>, Fusillade twitches a bit, and moans something about how yes, the machinery for the pretty interstellar deathships WAS real.

Outside, From Decepticon Shuttle <Despoiler>, Homunculus looks like he's been turned inside out. He just rests where Shockwave set him down and dreams the dreams of the unconscious.

<Autobot> Broadside says, "For the record, the Alpha Trion is a solid ship..."

<Autobot> Paradigm says, "Who would have thought, a space craft being stronger than a sailing ship"

<Autobot> Broadside says, "I wasn't a ship, when I hit it!"

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