Heart of Darkness, AW, The Scorched Earth

[Omega Prime]

Wallop had been keeping himself busy since his meeting with Moonhunter. He had to accept he was in charge of the Outpost, and everyone stationed there; likewise, it was his job to expand outward, away from the solitary base and into Predacon and neutral territory, forming a web of interconnected sensor stations with the Outpost at the center. With such a net established, the Maximals would be able to monitor a great deal more land than they had ever managed to before. Hopefully, the placement of these sensors would prevent something as cataclysmic as the loss of the Conquest from happening again.

One hoped.

Wallop had been methodical in his mission; there were only ever three teams of three to six out at once, all moving in a single direction but canvasing an expanding cone of land. While there were gaps in this formation, it was the fastest process Wallop could think of, and was working well. He had been monitoring the team's progress from the Outpost Ops Center, often not entering shutdown until every member of the teams was accounted for.

Yesterday, there had been an accident. Out of twelve Cybertronians and Terrans sent out, only seven returned. An entire team- and the largest one, no less- had gone missing.

They were the team Wallop had dispatched to the Scorched Earth, the nucleon-soaked land southwest of the Conquest's crash site. Anything could have done them in- the acid rain, the unstable land, or the toxic conditions caused by the nucleon. But Wallop wanted to find out. Staying in the Outpost was causing him to become restless and agitated. He needed some air.

Wallop had taken point on the excursion, certain his hide would fare better against the occasional splash of nucleon. Of course, he hadn't expected for the Scorched Earth to be so bad.

It was a bit like a volcanic field, if instead of lava, there were deposits of nucleon bubbling to the surface in slow yellow jets and flowed into the river. Twisted flora sprouted from the blackened soil, covered in dark yellow pods filled with nucleon-sap. The smell coming from the water was acrid and toxic- enough to force Wallop to deactivate his olfactory receptors. The place looked like the Pit, if the Pit could mutate you into a deranged monster who couldn't transform.

Wallop heard a quiet pinging in the back of his head. Five life-signs- three Cybertronian and two human. They were deeper into the mire, somewhere farther into the heart of this hell. You were looking for adventure, Wallop thought to himself, before addressing the trail of mechs behind him.

"Somewhere in this hell are our comrades. Our mission is to find them and get them out. Some quick rules to live by here- don't touch the nucleon. Don't drink the nucleon. Don't eat or drink anything touched by the nucleon. And, for the love of Primus, don't fall into the nucleon. Our secondary mission is to lay the sensor modules we brought from base here somewhere, but the extraction of our friends comes first. Any questions?"

----

Perched atop a hill, a pseudo-raptor watched the giant dole out commands to the tinier ones. Ones like him, both beast and two-leg. They were foreign, like the ones from the previous day. Alien. Most of all, they were a problem. Alpha would not like this. Not at all.

"More strange ones," the raptor gurgled, turning to his pack. All three were different species, some native, some not. But they were his pack. His. And they served the will of Alpha. The raptor would serve his Alpha until the end of time, until his eyes shut forever and his fluids stopped pumping. Or until he was strong enough to slay Alpha and take his throne. "We hunt. We catch. We kill."

A wall of white noise erupted from each member of the pack. One, a dog, leaped into the air and barked, showing its fangs. Another, a reptile, rumbled and opened its mouth wide. The last, a terror bird, displayed its plumage and made a loud bird-call. Each transmitted their Blood Song to the other. They were a pack. Family. They hunted together. They killed together.

And they would kill the giant and his pack.

[Arbiter]

After the arrival of the Predacons around the Zeta colony crash sites, and their initial settlement Bluestatic had been detailed to aid with the expansion of the outpost which whilst he was initially unhappy about gave him an opportunity that he couldn’t afford to pass up. He needed a fuel source for his little ‘project’ and this was ample opportunity to gather samples from which he could synthesize a comparative fuel that he could use and produce himself, without the need to further endanger himself. Little bit of danger now, big gain later on.

Right now he was responsible for laying the sensor modules, a few of which were strapped to him ready for activation, but at the same time it was a good opportunity to scoop some of the surrounding nucleon gloop into a few sample containers that he had with him. Good thing I brought my pole with me, like frag I’m going to get that junk on me. He had seen the results of mixing nucleon with a cybertronian’s transformation circuitry and he had to admit they weren’t pretty, and he had intention of joining the ranks of unfortunate victims.

His excuse for his sampling pole was strangely enough well accepted; seeing as he was well known for static discharges, and the sensitivity of the modules being at stake should a single spark fry the delicate circuitry within, it seemed only natural that he bring a long metallic object to properly ground himself during the setup procedure. He smiled inwardly to himself, a few sparks flying off to dance amongst the rocks, they don’t have a clue yet.

With slight excitement in his voice, he responded sarcastically to the large security bot, ‘Gotcha, we’ll kick up a fuss should the stuff look at us funny, just point us to the first sensor location and keep an eye out for us whilst we setup.’

---

Once again he was hunting, but not for prey that one might expect. He was hunting for the one he lost, the one he still missed, the one that still haunted his dreams. It had been too long now, and he knew the chances were still low, but he wasn’t about to give up now Ripniq just yet, not until he could confirm that her spark had been extinguished. This time the worg was searching the scorched lands for any trace of the missing raptor, it was a slim hope as the area was generally avoided, but he couldn’t put it past Ripniq to end up scared, alone and lost in a place like this, so he had to search.

For the moment the Predacons were in safe hands, and progress was moving as swiftly as one could expect, but as he had had no response from the Maximals, it seemed that his requests had been rejected. But at the same time, it seemed that some of the patrols around their current living area had been decreased, perhaps to lessen the bloodshed should any fight breakout; not that one would, Drifter had more sway than that. However, it seemed that the Predacons would now have to play the long game in order to carve their own destiny on this forsaken rock, even it meant abandoning their current predicament and moving to somewhere new altogether. Sighing, Drifter shook his head in frustration, he knew that such a move wouldn’t be painless, and that the Maximals would likely interfere but for now, he didn’t have a location for them all to move to, so at the same time as his private search for lost love, he scouted out each location for its possible suitability for a new Predacon home.

Treading carefully amongst the nucleon soaked rocks, Drifter made his way avoiding any direct contact with the nucleon infested landscape, all the while keeping an eye out to his surroundings. Sniffing slightly for the scent of his beloved, something else caught his nostrils instead; something unknown and something he recognised but not as an ally. Saturating his nose in the smell he lifted his snout to pinpoint their locations. Hmm, the one I know is in the valley on the far side of this hill…. the others… they’re on the hill itself. There’s always a complication, isn’t there…

He had to be careful now knowing that there were others nearby. Not only did he have the nucleon landscape to contend with, but also the potential adversaries as well. Shaking his head Drifter began to make his way to the base of the hill, from where he could try and circle round them all and avoid any possible conflict.

[Omega Prime]

OOC: You just had to have Drifter show up, didn't you?

Wallop wasn't a fan of snark. When he'd first met Bluestatic, he was being trampled in one of the Zeta colony ship's hallways. Wallop was certain this fact, coupled with Bluestatic's ridiculous wings and malfunctioning energy grid, or whatever the hell turned him into a Cybertronian third rail, meant that Bluestatic was the expedition member least entitled to crack jokes at Wallop's expense.

"Funny. I've marked the locations on the maps provided with your data pads. The closest one is right about... there. A great spot to get our bearings, as well." Wallop pointed to the crest of the hill overlooking there position. "Let's move. We don't separate for any reason, understood?" It was Wallop's job to make sure that everyone came back this time. And that meant alive. And not a Nucleon-infused monster, either. That'd be bad.

-----
"There's another one," Thunderer rumbled, his teeth glinting in the light. "I feel his presence. Approaching the hill. Kill or keep?" Thunderer had been responsible for the capture of the fleshies. He'd done a good job of keeping them in one piece. Well, one was mostly intact. Limbs aren't an absolute necessity, so he'd done well enough.

"Keep." Quickclaw could smell the intruder. He had a hunter's smell- blood and sweat and meat. He'd make a good addition to the pack. "Keep. Thunderer, go with Fang. Subdue him. A gift for Alpha." As Fang and Thundered began to disappear beyond the curve of the hill, Quickclaw glared down at the group of intruders who smelled of weakness and tenderness. They would die. Especially the Behemoth. He'd be Quickclaw's; all Quickclaw's.

"Talon, you follow me. We will kill the smallest first. But keep none. The giant is mine." Talon showed her teeth and turned her wings into razor-sharp, tapered triangles of metal. Quickclaw's hands morphed into metal scythes. They were ready now. Ready for the hunt.

[Arbiter]

‘Right, after you then.’ Bluestatic followed on as the party began to move out in the direction of the hill. However Bluestatic wasn’t stupid, he made sure that he remained central to the party that way if any of them got jumped it could be dealt with by the security team that was with them. He still hadn’t mastered flight yet though, so the thunderbird leapt from one safe position to another, his wings flapping frantically to maintain a small amount of lift until he landed safe and sound.

Terra firma, how I missed you, if only you weren’t soaked in a highly mutagenic chemical I might kiss you. He was smarter than that though, a few sparks rolling off to sparkle amount the pools of nucleon at the thought. However the engineer kept up with the rest of the party as they made solid progress towards the hill that had been pointed out by the security bot.

---

Approaching the base of the hill the worg threaded his way between the pools of dangerous mutagens. Avoiding the pools was relatively simple; the dangerous parts were any pools that bubbled and seethed, as there was no way of knowing when or if they would explode in a fountain and splatter the nearby area with nucleon. It didn’t help that he had a much greater bulk with which he could be splattered with. Rolling his eyes at the thought that his own size was counterproductive in this environment Drifter carried on reaching the base of the hill in relatively little time.

Now to follow the contours round, best check on the others first though. Raising his snout slightly he sniffed the air taking in a few of the noxious fumes that permeated the area. Coughing up synthetic flem to get the taste of the fumes out of his head, Drifter regisitered a change to the scent of the unknowns. Malevolence and hostility… against who, the others or me? Best not hang around then…

He knew the qualms of battling out here, it was detrimental to both sides, and whilst Drifter wasn’t an agile fighter he didn’t want to get knocked into one of those pools. He couldn’t resort to stealth either in this environment due to its openness. He’d have to make a break for it. Looking further ahead he could see a dip in the ridge line that acted as a low lying pass into the valley beyond, where he had detected the one’s he vaguely recognised. ‘Time to run then,’ and with that spoken thought he did.

[Stormshadow]

((OOC: Thought it would be fun to have Shadow keep tabs on what Bluestatic is up to))

Shadow kept to her namesake; keeping out of Wallop's range so he wouldn't notice her presence. She was only going along as an insurance to make sure her beloved brother wouldn't accidentally fall into a pool of nucleon or blow himself (or his companion) up. She'd brought Talonstrike's old blades and a small firearm she'd scrounged up from somewhere. She didn't really care about where it'd simply been an opportunity that she'd gladly taken.

Moving with up-most stealth, she kept an eye on the rather pathetically floundering Thunderbird whilst keeping her senses open and alert. She was not going to be taken by surprise and she was not going to let her only surviving family member fall to any misfortune and woe betide anyone who got in between Shadow and her brother.

Still she didn't quite want to go around advertising her abilities so she was only going to take action if it was required of her. Stuff the tracking device in her body; this was far more important than anything that egotistical moron might do to her.

[Omega Prime]

Quickclaw noticed a new odor emanating from a mobile source a bit away from the main party. Another hunter. Her presence was forceful, and sharp, and reminiscent of the shadow his pack cast before descending upon their prey.

Another one to keep.

In the meantime, Quickclaw and Talon were quickly approaching the behemoth's party. There were fewer this time than their were the day before. Lucky; most of that group had been reduced to food or were in the middle of their transformation. Quickclaw would take no pleasure in once more dragging dead weight with him back to the Eye.

"Talon, the bird goes first," Quickclaw hissed, outstretching his scythe arms. He'd tear the bird to pieces. Then the Behemoth.

"We've intercepted him. Will defeat for Alpha. Will turn for Alpha." Thunderer. Through the static, Quickclaw heard paws on hard ground and snapping jaws. Two hunters in one day. How fortunate.

"For Alpha." Quickclaw looked upwards. The group had noticed them. Good. Let them see us. Let their screams fuel Quickclaw's rage.

-----

Wallop watched as the pseudo-raptor and the terror bird leaped towards Bluestatic. He only had time for one, and caught the raptor around the throat, smashing it to the ground. It was lithe, and writhed beneath Wallops hand. Wallop jabbed at it with his thumb, but it snapped at the appendage and bit down, causing Wallop to jerk backwards.

He'd have to rethink this. Quickly, he pulled out his club, holding it in front of himself to guard. The raptor would have a hell of a time getting another shot in with Wallop in such a stance. Speaking of the raptor, Wallop had just noticed the metal scythes protruding from its arms. What the hell was it?

As the raptor lunged again and Wallop batted it away, he decided that it was some Predacon experiment gone awry. That would explain the faction symbol on its underbelly. But that didn't matter right now. What did matter was neutralizing it and then helping Bluestatic fend off the other creature attacking him, before it was too late.

[Arbiter]

OOC: Taken some creative licence to describe the ones attacking both Bluestatic and Drifter seeing as they haven’t had much description up until now, plus I’ve taken some liberty in the assumptions behind their actions, feel free to get in touch should I need to alter accordingly.

They came out of thin air, leaping down attempting to disembowel him. It was fortunate that the security bot had been paying attention as the thunderbird saw them cloths line what looked to be some kind of feathered dinosaur with blades welded to their arms, smashing them to the ground in the process. Well one less to deal with for the moment anyway. He barely had enough time to dive to the side as the large ostrich, was it an ostrich? Too large a jaw to be an ostrich, attempted to take a bite out of where he had been.

He looked back smirking briefly at his luck only to be met by the red glare of the flightless bird, blood and mech fluid slickening its beak. Was it his internal fluids? His smirk dropped upon this realisation that he hadn’t escaped unscathed before transforming in time to leap from another attempt on his life.

‘What did I ever do to deserve this!’ shouting above the melee that had started mere seconds before, drawing his sampling pole as he did so. Avoiding another strike he noticed that there seemed to be something else in the bird’s mouth but he couldn’t think what it could be there and then, before swinging with all his might at the creature’s head. Feeling it connect, the force of the blow sent shudders up his arms in response before he swung again at the head of the bird.

Upon striking again his pole reeled from the blow deforming from the impact, bugger… I always liked that pole, before the bird knocked him off his feet onto his back. Exhaling from the impact Bluestatic saw that he was right next to a pool of seething nucleon and as if to make a point some of it bubbled and landed near to his head, so not good, before the wind was knocked out of him again by a foot stamping on his chest. The bird looked down on his him, its face livid after the knocks it had just received; fanning its wings each feather looked like knives ready to penetrate his chest cavity before it lunged with its beak towards Bluestatic’s face.

Gritting his teeth the thunderbird pushed with all his might and managed to catch his pole in the birds jaw, locking them in a struggle of beak strength against the strength of his pole. I’m not going to win this with strength, gotta be another way… In a last ditch effort, he focused his static electricity to his hands and straight through the shaft of the sampling pole sending large jolts through the flightless bird’s body. Bluestatic felt the pressure relieved from is chest before he stumbled to his feet ready to face this foe properly, ‘I might be small, but I still have a sting to me, you damn birdbrain!’

---

They were definitely hostile, that much had been confirmed as one large form had barrelled right into Drifter knocking him right off his paws and onto his back as a second one leaped on top of him attempting to snap at his neck. What the pit are these? It didn’t matter as he held the creature off and took a good look at what he was dealing with. It seemed to be some kind of dog thing, but it was hard to tell when it was snapping at his face every half a second. Though at the same time he thought he heard the other shape say something about an alpha and that they will turn for the alpha. An alpha huh? Sounds like their leader to me, and if they can speak then it looks like they came from one of the bases.

Bringing his rear paws under the shape on top of him he pushed with all his might, springing the creature off of him before he rolled onto his haunches and back to his feet, facing his adversaries in a defensive posture. One appeared to be some kind of crocodile like creature and probably the one that had sent him flying in the first place whilst the other that had been snapping at him appeared to be some kind of dog. Are they Metalmasters gone rogue? But as he stood there he noticed that the crocodile moved round to place one of the pools of nucleon right behind Drifter. So that’s what they mean by turn, but I’m not about to let that happen. ‘You attacked the wrong wolf, and now it’ll cost you,’ growling this proposition at his attackers, Drifter then took a deep breath and roared at his opponents and loud enough for anyone nearby to hear.

Before they could react from his roar, Drifter was already on the move and snapped at the haunches of both of his opponents as he went past grazing both of them. He didn’t stop until he had reached the dip in the ridge line where he could see into the next valley and quickly survey what he could see. He then hurtled himself down the ridgeline and towards the ensuing chaos, only registering what he had seen as his processor finally understood the information that his visual centres had sent it. It’s that iguanodon again… this is not going to go well, and it seems that the other two have friends as well. As he avoided the pools of nucleon in the area, Drifter turned on an open comm channel directing its focus towards the Maximals under attack, ‘Attention Maximals, friendly approaching from 596-73, do not attack, I repeat do not attack. Drifter out.’ Closing his comm the worg simply hoped that the youngling was in a listening mood.


This post has been edited by Arbiter on May 13 2012, 06:20 PM

[Stormshadow]

Not aware that she'd been sensed, Shadow laid in wait calmly and quietly; anything could go wrong here and she was not about to let anyone past her if she could help it.

As soon as the strange creatures attacked Shadow didn't wait to think of any huge convoluted plan she simply sprung into action with all her ferocity brought to bear. Firing her stolen pistol with a great level of accuracy as she charged into the fray Shadow didn't bother with a battle cry or anything so simple instead she simply acted. Once her pistol was empty she flicked out one of Talonstrike's old blades and aimed to decapitate the foolish life-form which dared to harm her family. There was no mercy in her gaze only the look of a predator descending on a prey that it knows is inferior.

Whilst charging, she vaguely picked up a transmission involving some other person turning up and asking not to be attacked; Shadow disregarded it for now filing it away and instead simply keeping her senses aware of her surroundings.

She was not going to let this go; she noticed Bluestatic's closeness to the nucleon pool and suppressed her worry. Her brother; whilst not much of combatant, could hold his ground long enough for her to deal with this piece of trash. Oh she was NOT going to grant any mercy this time; attacking Bluestatic was pretty much tantamount to a death wish in Shadow's optics.

This post has been edited by Stormshadow on May 14 2012, 12:23 PM

[Omega Prime]

Quickclaw was going to destroy the Behemoth. He was going to tear him into small pieces and drop them into a boiling pit of Nucleon and then find any who were part of his pack and do the very same thing to them. Quickclaw was his pack's Beta. He was Beta because he was strongest- or at least, close to it. He was Beta he was fastest (almost fastest). He was Beta because he was smartest. And the giant had just made him look like a fool- a neophyte. He would die because of that.

When Quickclaw saw the dragon attack Talon, his plans changed. Talon was, in a way, a friend. Strong, swift, Quickclaw respected her and her skill. And for her to be killed by an outsider- one he intended to change, but an outsider, none the less- was unacceptable. The Behemoth would have to wait. Talon came first.

-----

Wallop braced himself for the raptor's attack. As it launched itself at him, he prepared to strike it with his club, knocking it unconscious. Instead, it dropped to the ground before entering his reach and slid underneath him, coming to its feet behind him. Quickly, Wallop turned, certain it would attempt to attack him from his blind spot. Instead, at leaped at Shadow (who Wallop assumed had been tailing them) and began to claw at the dragons plumage. Quickly, Wallop charged into battle beside her, batting at the terror bird and the raptor. Remembering his comrade, he shouted, "Bluestatic! Are you all right?" before the bird raked its claw across the side of Wallop's face. The situation was spiraling out of control.

The worg's call only made things worse.

[Arbiter]

The thunderbird was thrown into a stupor as the events unfolded before him; he couldn’t believe his optics when the black shape changed into his beloved sister leaping into the fray to stop his assailant. It almost seemed like a dream, or a near death experience. Perhaps he was already dead and in his last moments he was seeing what he wanted to see. So as his face dropped a single word formed on his mouth at this scene before him, ‘Sis?’ His stupor still in effect Bluestatic could only continue to mutter the same word to himself, ‘Sis..,’ before the full revelation hit him. ‘Sis!’ This time he shouted the word and sprang into action re-joining the melee to aid his beloved sister in combat.

Gripping his pole in both hands, the thunderbird charged towards his sister, charging the sampling pole with an excess of static charge. As he reached Shadow, he leaped up and swung the battered pole towards his sister’s assailant, the pseudo-raptor that had been cloths lined previously. He felt the pole connect with the neck of the blade wielding raptor and his static discharge through them, causing the vicious creature to release its hold of his sister’s fur for a moment, hopefully enough for her to act, before he was struck in the chest once more by a now bloodied ostrich and flying head over heels back from whence he came.

Landing in a heap next to the pool he struggled to his feet and finally responded with a slightly dazed look to the security bot, ‘I’m ok, but why are there four of them now.’ He then lifted his pole once more and charged once more back into the melee.

---

They were embroiled in combat, that much Drifter could definitely tell as he charged towards the Maximal’s fight with the supposed Metalmasters and it looked like some precision assistance was required. Leaping across one of the nucleonic pools and sliding in the dirt on the far side Drifter transformed from a quadruped into his bipedal form, raising his twin pulse laser in the process. As his form changed, the worg dumped power into his processor time and quickly booted up his fire control software and targeting array; a targeting reticle appearing in his sight whilst the silhouettes of those fighting in the melee were outlined and marked in different colours.

Quickly focusing his concern on the immediate threat, the worg focused his targeting reticle on the pseudo-raptor, his internal computer chiming Target Locked once it was satisfied he would hit his target. ‘Firing…,’ muttered the worg before he adjusted and fired at the large bird like creature that the dragon was presently attempting to cut into ribbons. Two pairs of twin bolts were unleashed to strike at their marks, but Drifter didn’t stay and watch knowing full well he likely had the other two still on his tail.

Digging furrows into the ground as he launched himself into a run, the worg headed to the melee at the same time charging his EMP cannon for what was to come next. As he reached their location, he ground to halt once more but turned on the spot to face the way he came, this time raising his EMP cannon arm towards the onrushing attackers. Targeting and adjusting the electrical pulse’s spread the bounty hunter was reasonably confident that he could stall these creatures provided they were similar to any other cybernetic organism, but he’d have to wait and see after he fired. Charge 100% ready to fire, chimed his computer as Drifter grinned visibly past his weapon so that his hostiles could see his face. ‘Targeted, and FIRING!’ Drifter shouted, as his weapon discharged unleashing the energy stored in the weapon as an intensely bright beam of energy towards the crocodile and dog following him, the recoil pushing him back a couple of feet in the dirt.

After the light had dissipated, Drifter stood up straight, the smell of burning fur entering his nostrils as he inspected the damage he had caused to himself. He rarely if ever fired his cannon on full charge due to the lack of heat dissipation on the cannon, but with potential Metalmasters to deal with it was better to be safe than sorry, even if it cost him the fur on his arm or the arm itself.

[Stormshadow]

Shadow hissed in rage when she was attacked from behind, narrowing her crimson optics she reigned in her blood-lust as she realised that getting carried away right now; would probably not be a good idea.

"Don't worry about me lil bro. Just worry about keeping yourself safe!" was all Shadow replied as she flicked out a second blade and twisted to cut at the second attacker. Only to feel her fur bristle as she caught the tail end of her brother's static discharge through her secondary prey. "Nice"she grinned with a feral joy, swinging her second blade at the strange creature whilst simultaneously lashing out with her tail.

Maintaining a fluid stance, her aim was to grab him with her tail whilst she sliced with her sword. However, she also unfurled her wings as she made ready to launch into the air should her attack not be successful and retaliation occurred. The first blade, now stained with some of her prey's fluids, was carefully placed into a defensive position to defend from a retaliation attack from her original prey. Should it happen of course; if it didn't, well Shadow was not planning on playing nice today anyway.

Drifter's attack was a rather amusing and unwanted distraction; but the dragon dealt with it as she did all things on the battlefield. Register it and file it away unless needed, so it could be drawn up at a moments notice. Completely disregarding Wallop's presence and the possible consequences of her actions Shadow held nothing back as she fought and damn, did she enjoy it.

[Omega Prime]

"'Lil' bro'?" Wallop asked, flinging the terror bird away from Talon. It landed somewhere behind Drifter. Hopefully, he would trip over it and snap his neck. Wallop would like that. He would like that a lot.

This new revelation on Shadow's and Bluestatic's relationship intrigued him. While it could just be nicknames the engineer and the janitor had for each other, Wallop doubted it- the two seemed to end up interacting a lot. And really, what business did a janitor and an engineer have together? The only thing that could explain it was that they really were related. Or really good friends. Which was unlikely.

A janitor and and an engineer?

Wallop payed close attention to the raptor. It spat out a glob of blackish liquid (blood, or mech fluid? He couldn't tell) and suddenly, static exploded into his ears. The terror bird that had been tangling with Shadow and Bluestatic suddenly disengaged, wriggling out from beneath the two of them, and hopped and limped away, following the raptor. Wallop would pursue, but he looked downwards and saw that he had accumulated some minor wounds. Besides, he wanted to make sure Bluestatic and Shadow, who was ranked below him and therefore under his command, were both all right. And then there was a Drifter, whom Wallop almost desperately hoped had found a ditch to die in.

-----

Quickclaw watched with some horror as the wolf fired upon Fang and Thunderer. For a second, all of Fang and half of Thunderer were completely engulfed in blue light. Then it dissipated, and Fang collapsed. Thunderer simply ceased to move, his jaws held wide open, unable to shut. For all Quickclaw cared, they were dead. They were, probably. Quickclaw finally understood- they couldn't win. His pack couldn't win this battle; not when half of them were dead.

In a rage, Quickclaw released a pained, static-charged noise; the call for retreat. He hopped to his feet, ignoring the electricity that still lingered in his system and the holes in his synthetic hide, and began to run, deeper into the Scorched Earth. Talon followed behind him, dripping life fluids.

As Quickclaw fled, he made a decision: the Behemoth would pay. But he would not die. He would suffer, yes; but slowly, and forever, until Quickclaw grew tired of causing him suffering.

And Quickclaw would never do such a thing.

[Arbiter]

OOC: I’m so sorry about not posting up until now, I’ve just been busy with one thing and another that I just haven’t had much of an opportunity to catch up. Hopefully that’ll change now.

Before the thunderbird could swing his pole at his sister’s assailant once more, they had already disengaged and started to flee away. Standing there, pole raised in hand, he was unsure of himself as to what he should do before he finally caught sight of Shadow, readying herself to dig furrows into the ground as she pursued their would-be-killers. Dropping the pole he stepped in front of her, grabbing her in the shoulders to stare down her bloodlust with his own concern. ‘Don’t do that again in future!’ he cried into her face, before forcibly drawing her into an embrace, ‘You’ve done enough fighting in your life, so it’s my turn to protect you.’

After a few moments he spoke quietly and calmly to the dragoness, ‘We lost everything on that colony, I don’t want to lose the one bit that’s left of it sis.’

---

Finally approaching the Maximal position Drifter disconnected his EMP cannon taking a firm grip of it in his claw and swinging it over his shoulder. Areas where the cannon was directly connected to him were burnt away from the sudden output of energy and the lack of prepared heat dissipation as coolant flushed from vents in an attempt to cool the internal circuitry of his arm. However it was all in vain as some of the fur was now burnt beyond recognition whilst the connections glowed red, their immediate surroundings bald. Kneeling next to the Maximals, the worg smothered his arm in the dirt in an attempt to cool down his arm through more primitive methods than coolant before looking over his shoulder back towards where he fired the cannon.

‘Before you ask, I’ve no idea who they were but they weren’t friendly. But from the way they appeared and acted they could be left over experiments from Atrocity’s reign of terror.’ He spoke quite calmly to them, no hint of aggression in his voice, before continuing on, ‘I don’t know or care what you planned to do out here Wallop, but consider it scrapped for the moment. You have a civilian and a…’ he stared at Shadow for a moment longer than he should done before speaking again, ‘mercenary, so I suggest you have Shadow take point whilst you look after the civvie on your return.’ He cocked an eyebrow towards the thunderbird’s current attempts at placating his sister before he finally finished speaking, ‘Not unless you want to leave the lovebirds out here in this scenery and decadence.’

‘Meanwhile, I think I might track down our would-be-assailants and teach them how to greet someone properly,’ at this he gave a wolfish grin, as it was obvious what would happen if he did. But just as he did, his dirt-covered arm jerked as an error message appeared in his HUD, Error – Environment Seal Breached, Unknown Contaminants Within System. Optics widening he stared at the source of the problem, the dirt he’d used, some of it glowing with the nucleon enriched colour of the surrounding environment. ‘Change of plans, I need to come back with you for immediate medical aid, I’ve… I’ve been infected, but I’ll slow it down for now.’ Already he could feel the areas most covered in dirt began to tingle with what was occurring to them. Drawing his knife out the worg took a breath before plunging it deep into the join of his elbow separating all of connections between his now infected forearm and the rest of his body. Wriggling it about for good measure, Drifter then withdrew the knife, flicking the spurting mech fluid off before replacing it back in its sheath. His internal systems now registering the disconnection, quickly stopped the flow of all important hydraulics and life fluids to that area, his forearm now hanging limply by his side. ‘That’ll slow the change down whilst it attempts to rebuild the all of the cut connections it but won’t stop it without treatment, now quickly we need to get a move on.’

[Stormshadow]

Shadow grinned in sheer glee as her opponents routed only to be kept from chasing after her prey by the only person she wouldn't kill for such an offence. Instead she blinked the blood-lust draining out of her as she looked at him in confusion "Do what?" she asked in confusion as she was pulled into a hug.

Though next she was simply incredulous 'protect me?' she thought to herself, the idea simply laughable. Though she didn't want to hurt his feelings so she just gave him a bit of a blank look "Umm okay?" though that came out as more of a question than an agreement.

Still she sighed and returned the hug when he confessed his worry. "It's alright little bro; I can't help but be what I am. That doesn't mean I forget; besides we protect each other right? You're all I've got too" she replied softly giving her brother a ruffle on his head in an affectionate manner.

She turned her head when Drifter started to speak and snarled. "I. am. a. JANITOR" she stated firmly "I just happen to be a bit more violent than most" she added on as an after thought and flicked her tail. Shadow knew who Drifter was of course probably more so than most; so she held no illusions that he didn't know who she was. Heck she wouldn't be surprised if he knew more about her than anyone else on this planet (aside from Bluestatic of course).

"LOVEBIRDS?! What the frag? He's family you idiotic wolf...thing.......and I'm not a bird" the last part was spoken with vague confusion after all Shadow knew she was a bit fluffy, but she didn't look like a bird; did she?

She tilted her head in confusion as she watched him run about for a moment before rolling her eyes as he cut his arm off. "Dramatist" she muttered before looking at Wallop "Well...what do you think err...Wallop is it?" a note of expectation remained in her voice as she waited; there was no way in the pits she would be held accountable for this.

[Omega Prime]

"Wallop is correct, 'Sis'," Wallop's answer was meant for Shadow, but he was staring at Drifter. The worg looked foolish. Incredibly so. Jamming his hand into nucleon-infected soil? Idiot.

Still, Wallop had a duty to idiots and fools and anyone who failed to understand the higher concepts of strategy in an area filled with toxins, such as "don't stick your hand directly into the toxin."

"Drifter, that was stupid." Wallop glared down at the mercenary. It horrified Wallop to think that, once upon a time, the worg had been part of the Autobot army. The idea of that monster fighting beside Wallop gave him nightmares. "I won't let you die. Remember that next time you decide to murder one of my friends."

Wallop helped Drifter to stand, lifting him up from a point just beneath Drifter's remaining arm. Nodding towards the arm, Wallop grunted, "Static, find some way to contain his arm and bring it with us." Transforming as static began to dance across his body, Wallop took a few paces forward and then stopped. [color=green]"Form a line. Shadow at the front, then Bluestatic, then Drifter." Stepping into place behind the worg, Wallop began to pace forward, urging him forward as well. "I hope you won't mind being detained in the Outpost's Medical Ward for a bit. It might take some time for the nucleon to be completely flushed from your system."

If Wallop was a worse liar and was still in robot mode, he'd be grinning. Perhaps this hadn't been such a waste of time after all. Still, he wondered about the lost team. A subject for another excursion, it seemed.

---

Quickstrike wandered deeper into Feral territory. He'd been shamed. By a reptile. A disgusting facsimile organic, not even approaching the perfection possessed by his kind. But it had taught him something.

For the Ferals to continue, all the others would need to die.

Quickstrike stumbled into camp, Talon close behind him. Eyes stared out from burrows, from trees, from piles of gray grass and flattened leaves. Quickstrike, covered in fluid that was his one, and not that of vanquished enemies, approached a throne at the center of the Feral Plataea, past the twisted forms of the fleshies and their mechanical counterparts, left as gifts for Alpha. He approached a mound form of corpses, made from all those who had died for challenging her. Their leader. Their god. Their Alpha.

Explaining what had happened would be painful. Quickstrike was not exactly certain that he would survive the ordeal. But he had a duty, as Beta. As he began to relay the experience, a thought floated into his head:

Don't shoot the messenger."