Autobot Spelunking

Highroad

What once was a splendid and grand highway has been shelled and bombed almost to the point of non-recognition. It is so cracked, potholed, and littered with debris that traveling it requires a great deal of coordination and even more concentration, a dangerous distraction when an attack could occur at any moment. The powerful bombs that hit this road so long ago were meant to cut off access to and from the city directly to the south.

Impactor is standing in between the weapon placements on Fortress Maximus' bow, one hand resting on a large cannon and the other 'semi-injured' forearm tucked close to his shoulder. Although without it's protective sling or fastenings to aid the healing process, it's still mildly injured. The Wrecker leader adjusts his leg posture to a more wide stance, allowing him to bring his hand above his optics and peer down at Cybertron.

Grinning, Impactor lowers the hand to his mouth and opens his broadband link. <>

Battle Station  follows the course to the super secret location altering course at random intervals to keep from having it tracked easily. Acting as transport for his fellow Autobots is not something he normally does so he takes added care as he begins to approach the dropzone. Inside the command tower Galen is reviewing some design plans so to get a better handle on what is to come. Maximus however needs no such review, having built more than his fair share of buildings and other structures before the war. some of which are still standing despite the ravages brought upon the planets surface. As the battle station begins to slow his thrusters shift as he begins to hover over the area.

Hoist is staring out across Cybertron from the safe perch on Fortress Maximus and he muses over the wonderful buildings that could be rebuilt and redesigned when they finally win this war. <>

F/A-18 Hornet  has been on top of the world lately, having learned that he was the 'favorite' among the Wreckers. Heights wouldn't trouble him now... Well, not too much; he still flew low over the highroad, not far behind Fort Max, rumbling a random melody. <<...What're we doin' again boss?>>

The big blue Hot Spot has come along to join the construction efforts, although building is not really a part of his function. Hopefully he can assist to oversee the set-up of the base, in addition to lending a hand with the heavy lifting. He's one boss who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty. He scans the area as they approach the designated site. With this road so heavily bombed here, traffic will be minimal, but Autobots making an approach to the base will be sorely impaired. "Hmm. We might want to make sure we create a fast way in and out, since this highway is so battered. Construction of a few easily-guarded access tunnels might be useful."

Blades stands carefree on the deck of the massive battle station, observing the bleak scenary surrounding him as he is transported along at a snail's pace. "We really need to get sci-tech to install some speed boosters on your propulsion systems, Fort Max. I can't see how you can possibly be satisfied with travel like this." The Protectobot sighs just in time to hear Impactor's announcement, and he begins to head for the boarding docks where the other Autobots are disembarking. In the mean time, he makes his of his often neglected radio as he attempts to retrieve his orders.

Fairway is standing just behind Impactor. He feels partially responsible for the explosion that destroyed the Wreck and has thus come along partly out of guilt. He looks over the side at the ground rushing by, never having traveled in quite this way before. "I do wish you'd let me work on that hand," he says to Impactor, "I fear that further use without corrective surgery could exacerbate the injury to a point of severity at which your hands functionality would be compromised."

Nightbeat isn't sure how he got roped into helping with construction. It's not really his thing. He's just going to blame Lady Luck on this one, he thinks. At least Fortess Maximus is a decent ride. He sighs and mutters, "I'll bite. What am I doing, Impactor?"

Impactor turns around, the grin still present but optics wide. "Uh, sure thing kid." The Wrecker leader moves for the mid-part of Fortress Maximus' battlestation mode and looks back at the Autobots currently on deck, eyeing Nightbeat especially. "Hey, what you femmes waitin' fer ... Till all are one? GETTA MOVE ON!" Mr. Purple-pants jumps from the deck, <> quickly plummeting the short distance to the ground below. Landing in a pile of busted highway, Impactor gets himself out of the temporary immersion and folds both arms behind his back. He 'patiently' awaits the Autobots to arrive in orderly and timely fashion, in the meanwhile pacing back and forth.

Markdown is also clinging to Fortress Maximus. He has a keg of something tucked under an arm. "What? Jump? I thought we were going to land?!" But Impactor seems to make the jump ok, so he shrugs and drops down below. Unfortunately, he trips on the edge of the Battlestation's superstructure, and tumbles through the air until he lands on his back. "Ow..." He spies the keg near himself. "Well, that doesn't look damaged, at least."

Various construction and excavation equipment lies against the wall beside the battle station's boarding dock for people to pick up as they leave. The boarding dock itself slides open and the boarding platform extends out and lowers itself onto the ground.

"Eh, lots of equipment laying around. I guess I'll be claiming some of these for my own then if no one else got plans for them." The Protectobot's resident aerial warrior announces to the others as he reaches down and picks up a crate in each arm before disembarking entirely from the battle station and onto the broken grounds below. Blades carries the equipment with him all the way to where Impactor is standing before dumping the crate onto the ground and standing at ready.

First Aid pops out from one of Fortress Maximus's many hatchways that lead inside the gigantic battlestation. He's carrying a toolbox in his right hand, a jig in his step, and a go-getter attitude in his spar-I mean Lasercore. Seeing the others on the upper deck, First Aid waves, "Hi all. Sorry it took so long to get up here. I couldn't find my energon mug." He rummages around in the toolbox, eventually producing a large Transformer-scale mug that reads 'Working Hard or Hardly Working?' Seriously, it's hilarious and everyone no doubt chuckles over it.

<> Broadside assures as he transforms and lands heavily near the site, remaining oblivious to the task at hand. "Hah!" he barks a laugh at Markdown's grace, and reaches for the keg. "How thoughtful." In a swift series of snaps and clanks, Broadside transforms into his robot mode.

Nightbeat disembarks, grumbling to himself. He can carry stuff around, at least. Relatively light objects. He's not /totally/ useless.

Battle Station  continues to hover in place to give those who thought walking would be too fast time to disembark. When the last of them clear the deck transforms and almost at once has a datapad in hand displaying blue prints and other data. Looking over the area he nods and moves to mark out a few places where things will begin. THe equipment thankfully was all bundled on special pallets that were lowered safely and quickly as he trnasformed.

Fortress Maximus shifts into robot mode.

Fairway drags a piece of eqipment down the ramp unaided. He somehow manages to keep himself from convulsing with laughter at First Aid's killer quip. He appears preoccupied - moreso than normal anyway. Hoist is in no great rush, he knows that if a jobs worth doing it's worth taking lots of time and going into painstaking detail over it, besides a leap from this height whilst not dangerous could cause a misalignment of your leg servos should you land badly so he waits for a safer way to disembark, like the ramp. Hoist disembarks and looks around, "Okay everybody, don't forget your tools, i'll have no excuses for not lending a hand."

Hot Spot does his part, putting his burly strength to use by hauling up a a sizable crate of supplies. He sees that in ffact many of the volunteers are not properly suited to the task at hand, but at least one proper builder and a few technicians ought to be enough, with help from the rest of the motley crew. "Well, many hands make light work. We can all do our part to chip in, and we should get down in no-time."

First Aid gives Fairway a smile (not literally of course) as the mech laughs. "So how are you doing, Fairway?" he asks, following him down the ramp. First Aid doesn't currently have a free hand, but if it looks like Fairway needs assistance lugging that equipment around, he'll help out as best he can.

Markdown is too busy groaning in misery on the ground to laugh at First Aid's mug. "Unnnh. Yeah. I thought I'd bring along some energon, 'case you guys needed some extra energy. But, uh, maybe I'll just hang out here for a bit. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

"Hey you guys! I heard there was a party or somethin'??" Powerglide hollers as he just sort of appears out of nowhere (in reality he flew there but he's so small that no one really noticed until now). "Let's do this thing! WOO!"

"Alright, yer all here. So, without further ado ... I present.." Impactor barks, still walking back and forth nervously. Gesturing with his arms held out to the great expanse of beaten and battered highway chucks, "The site for our new underground headquarters. Now if Quickswitch, Nosecone, and Twin Twist would kindly step for...wait a sec." Marching quickly up to Broadside, Impactor jerks the larger triple-changer to the side. "Where are the other drilltanks? Am I supposed to do this all by myself?" Looking over his shoulder at the rest of the bunch, "Hoist, would you mind divving up the surveying? Fortress Maximus, mind clearing out the area of rubble as per the blueprint specs?"

Fairway smiles at First Aid. "Friend First Aid," he says, clearly struggling just a little bit with the heavy machine he's trying to move, "I've been well - comparitively speaking. I suppose I could be in the possession of a career criminal being forced to activate a weapon with the power to destroy universes."

Broadside gets rather easily pulled aside by bitty (to him) Impactor. "Hrnn. I have no idea where those slackers are, boss. Want I should go find some non-sentient drills?" he offers, then pauses. "Ehh, you sayin' you ain't drill enough to handle this teeny job?" he playfully jeers.

Hoist watches as Impactor attempts to take control of the construction project and walks over to the whisperers, "Impactor if you intend to have secret entrances at ground level you would likely do best to remove the surface as is and then start drilling. We can then utilise the surface material to creat the doorway which will blend in far better than having to lovingly construct a new door."

Fortress Maximus looks over the area with the optics of an architect after finishing his markings. It's not the best site but it will do. Pulling up another series of specs he shows them to the two mechs closest to him and points to some rubble. "That has to go, but don't move it far. We'll need it recover the area so it looks as barren and destroyed as before." Wandering off he looks towards the south and hopes that no power lines or tunnels already run in this area. Hitting such would be a real quick way to reveal their intentions to settle in.

First Aid hastily puts the mug back into the toolbox, using his newly freed hand to try and help lift one side of the machine Fairway is carrying. First Aid is not known for his overpowering strength of ultimate power (unlike, say, Brawn), so it remains to be seen how much he's able to lift. He sees Hoist whispering to Impactor and hopes that the Wrecker leader will take Hoist's no doubt sage advice. Impactor isn't an engineer, after all.

"Okay, cool, soooo...." Powerglide moves over to the keg. "No one really cares if I just sit around and drink right? I mean, I don't know nothin' 'bout this building stuff."

Markdown suddenly leaps to his feet once Powerglide threatens the keg. "THAT," Markdown explains, glaring daggers at the mini-bot. "is for people who WORK, Powerglide! So if you want some you have to help the Wreckers with their construction project!"

"Thanks you, friend," Fairway says, straining far less now, "And how are you, if I may ask?" The machine in its proper places, Fairway bustles around its base activating it, checking to make sure that the power level doesn't exceed 9,000.

Blades waits patiently as the individual duties are handed out by the powder blue Protectobot commander, unfortunately in the end nothing comes to him. It's not that unexpected for the Protectobot's resident thug. He doesn't know the first thing about handling the data for surveying the landscape, nor does he have a clue about basic engineering either. The only thing that Blades knows that he can confidently contribute to the effort is manual labour, and he's just fine with that.

"Eeeesh, I guess you're the one I'm going have to report to, eh, boss?" Blades asks Fortress Maximus as he follows him to the south with some excavation equipment slung across his shoulder, "I figure you being a famous experienced architect would know where I can make the most bang for my efforts, eh?" Yup, just point the way, and Blades will go there swinging.

Nightbeat glances around the area, and his optics seem to alight on a perfectly boring, normal flooring plate. He stares there for a moment, and he frowns. Nightbeat shakes himself, and he just ignores Powerglide's slacking. A slacking Powerglide is a Powerglide who isn't mucking around.

First Aid gives Powerglide a wary look, but Markdown is alrady on the case. First Aid, grunting and struggling to hold up his end while also holding the toolbox, repeatedly has to stop the machine moving in order to readjust his grip. Eventually he just puts the toolbox /on/ the machine and uses both hands to hold up his end. "No complaints here. I haven't seen any action lately which has been a nice change of pace."

Hoist turns and calls out, "Nightbeat, Powerglide, Markdown i want you three to walk the ground, check for any instability in the surface that could possibly lead to collapse." Using his multitool arm as a laser pointer he shows the area he want them to cover, "You can do it together or individually to cover more ground just get it done, if you see anything that troubles you call me and i'll come and inspect it."

"Aw COME ON!" Powerglide whines, throwing his hands in the air. "You've GOT to be kiddin' me! All I want is a little sip!" He moves a little bit closer to the keg. "It aint a big deal, right? A little sip? Just enough to get me just a teeny buzzed, a'ight?" He's about to challenge Markdown by going for the keg anyway but he hears Hoist say his name and well.. "Ughhhhhhh....FINE!"

Markdown replies to Hoist, "Ok, probably cover more ground if we go by ourselves. I'll radio you on the first sign of trouble, and Powerglide, if you touch that keg, I swear..." He doesn't finish his threat, though, as he wanders off.

Nightbeat says cooly, "We split up." Then, he strides off. Every so often, he puts his head down to the ground, knocks, and listens. He often frowns rather deeply at whatever it is he is hearing, but he isn't saying anything.

Powerglide crosses his arms and huffs. "Oh yeah that sounds like fun. Walkin' around looking for..." He pauses for a moment. "Yo, Hoist! What are we looking for again?"

Fairway nods. "Indeed," he says, "I haven't had to fire my rifle in nearly a month. It's been quite pleasant. But I find myself surprised by how boring it has been as well." He opens a panel and begins switching wires around. "This is running hot. There may be a short in the output regulator. At any rate, First Aid, I sometimes wonder just how much of the war is in us - how indellible is its mark? I feel that I should be enjoying this brief respite far more than I am."

"Aww, quit yer ribbin'. I think between me and the walking battle station, we can get 'er done." Impactor replies, looking at Hoist. "Umm, sure. Listen Hoist, I ain't the smartest mech ta be askin' bout that sort of thing." Lifting up his hand, it descends into his forearm and rescends as the ever familiar harpoon attachment. "I just drill the holes." When Hoist goes off to give his orders, the Wrecker Leader approaches Nightbeat. "Hey, watchya got yer head on the ground fer? This ain't nap time ninjabot!"

Fortress Maximus turns giving Blades a small smile. "Hmm I guess here is as good a place to start as any." He glances again at the plans and thinks perhaps Grapple is better off having not seen them. A far cry from what he is used to working on the large autobot gives a sigh and secures the padd to his arm and picks of a large semi flat sheet of metal. Burnt and blasted from recent events it still makes a functionable shovel as Maximus pushes some smaller bits out of the way. He makes two passes over the area before he stops and seems to fade out as he thinks of past buildings and other wonders built in better times.

"I know, it's been almost peaceful," First Aid replies. He's wringing out his hands now that the machine is in the proper place. That thing was freaking heavy! "Experience has made it clear however that all this means is that the Decepticons are plotting something big." Maybe. Taking the tool box off the machine and setting it down so he can go through it, he comments, "Groove and I talk about this a lot. I think what permanent impact the war has on us varies from mech to mech. Some wouldn't know what to do with themselves if there wasn't evil to fight."

Markdown's approach to finding structural instability is to hop up and down on patches of ground to see if it gives way. Fortunately for him, it does not.

Broadside is adamant about standing idle until ordered to do something. He can't be bothered with anything other than 'heavy stuff', and simply folds his arms and surveys the not-so-lazy 'bots.

Nightbeat comments idly, "The evil that men do lives on and on." Primus. Why couldn't he just be in a darkened city, standing on a rooftop, brooding to himself? Nightbeat's good at that. Stupid new suns, making stupid daylight. This checking the ground for instability business is a bad deal, as far as he's concerned!

"Hey, guys!" Powerglide shouts from a random patch of land. "Look what I found!" He holds up a turbofox that looks like it got run over by a steamroller. "It reminds me of Foxfire but if Foxfire was dead."

Blades nods an acknowledgement in return to Fortress Maximus before readying the excavation gear in his hands. "Sounds good, boss. I guess I'll follow the others' lead that are working here as well and carry on from there." The Protectobot aerial warrior walks off towards an area that's absolutely littered with debris of all sorts of manner and begins using an anti-gravity beam gun to lift and remove the obstacles around him. Little by little the pile of debris gradually shrinks down to a more managable amount. "Eeeesh, I didn't expect there to be so few of us doing manual labour around here." Blades says idly as he moves away another large piece of twisted metal that came from one of the many skyscrapers that used to stand here.

Impactor puts his head to the ground beside Nightbeat's. "I have no idea what that means, but is this some sort of meditation thinger to be all sneaky 'n whatnot?"

Hoist walks off to another section that needs to be structurally sound and his tri-beam scanner goes to work, the material analysis being fed straight into his processors. He covers ground a lot faster than anyone that has to read scanner details or just check through the old method of poke with stick, then stand on it. He hears Impactors reply and radios back to him, "Well just laser out the doorway areas in a single piece and set them aside then you can get to your tunneling." Hoist then replies to Powerglide, "Structural instability or to put it more simply ground that gives way under pressure."

Nightbeat looks over at Impactor, and he explains, fairly gently, "I can hear a pin drop from five miles away. And count the number of threads on the pin. I knock," he does so, "and I can hear what's underground." And it make Nightbat frown, for some unfathomable reason.

Fairway busies himself opening panels, cutting into wires, replacing melted nodes and circtuit boards. "That was something I had read about extensively before joining the war effort," he says, "But was surpised to actually feel. I used to believe that nothing truly needed to be experienced to be understood. This was a powerful truth in my head, unimpeachable. But it has been greatly shaken by this war, and I am, in all honesty, unsure how to realign my philosophies to accomadate the change."

"Whoa, trippy." Impactor replies, standing up and scratching his helm. "So, there's somethin' down there?"

The ground suddenly gives way under Markdown's feet! "Yeeaaaghhh!" he cries out, but just before he plummets below, he manages to grab the edge of the pit. "...found one!"

Nightbeat explains slowly, "There is a /lack/ of something down there. A void, if you will. If I had to hazard a guess, a tun-" He covers his face with his hands and groans, "A tunnel. Looks like Markdown found it."

First Aid looks surprised at Fairway's words. "You seem like such a cheerful fellow, Fairway," he says, taking out what looks like a Star Trek tricorder from the toolbox. "I'm surprised to hear the war is affecting you so greatly. Is it anything you want to talk about?" he asks, giving a brief glance at the others in case Fairway wants to discuss it without too many people overhearing.

Powerglide secretly hopes Markdown loses his grip and dissapears into the ground so he can have full access to the keg.

"Aw slag, if I fall down another hole..." Broadside grumbles, and is sure to step away from Markdown's findings.

Broadside says, "Powerglide, quit lookin' so suspicious."

"Quit lookin' at me you creep!" Powerglide snaps.

Hoist looks to where the cry of found on came from and hurries over to where Markdown was a moment ago, "Well looks like you really put your foot in it this time. Want a hand?" He asks cheerily and offers his to help pull Markdown back up, "That's the trouble with the old method a tad unreliable at times still at least you're safe."

Fortress Maximus moves to help Blades here and there though his heart is clearly not in it. "You know, I can recall when there was nothing but modern skyline standing here. Towers of steel that offered all manner of goods and living space. And now.." He kicks at a scrap of metal wondering if he searched long enough if he would find a girder plate etched with his name.

"Hole? Markdown? Huh?" Impactor grumbles, whirling around and seeing a pair of hands grasping onto a hole in the ground. Rushing over, the Wrecker skids on his knees and graps out for the Autobot's hands. "Here, lemme help ya up!"

Markdown ulps, grabbing onto Impactor's hand and scrambling out of the pit. Markdown's a heavy bot, but a strong guy like Impactor can probably lift him with not too much trouble. "Yep, and I think I need a new way of finding these things."

Finally, the machine's output has backed off. It hums pleasantly. "A temporary fix," Fairway says, "I shall have to actively maintain it. I lack the parts to repair it completely, I'm afraid." THAT doesn't happen often. He turns to First Aid, looking briefly at the scanner in his hand. "It simply never occurred to me that philosophy was such a passive pursit. As a professor, I genuinely felt like a crusader for higher thought. But the line between doing and believing has never seemed so clear. Loneliness has... achieved greater contrast, as it were. Has been heightened. As I take into my own hands the lives of my Cybertronian brothers, I lament the distance that makes killing them necessary."

Nightbeat points out, "We probably need to map that hole. Wouldn't want your base to collapse due on account'a mysterious tunnels and all." He moves a bit closer to the hole, staring down it speculatively.

Broadside appears more interested in bullying Powerglide than doing manual labor, and no one's yelling at him yet. He makes to nudge the minibot with his foot, rumbling a chuckle.

"Eeeeesh, stick around for another millenia, boss. By then the civil war might be over and there'd be plenty of rebuilding to do by then." Blades responds in brief intervals as he shoves debris out of his path.

Eventually the area is cleared enough by the combined efforts of the crew in the vicinity and the real manual labour begins. The Protectobot begins using the reinforced gas compression pick to strike at the more stubborn debris that refused to be moved, manually breaking the pieces down into chunks for easy clearing, "I take it that Galen still ages, right? What are you going to do once he, eh, you know... expires?"

Suddenly...an idea! "Oh! Oh! I have an idea!" Powerglide waves his arms around. "How about you make the base /underground/? Eh? Ehhhh??"

 Decibel says, "Mirror mirror on the wall, sounds like Hook made one they don't want to fall. Yeah I'm no poet, but their is a lot of yapping about a mirror and keeping it safe."

Nightbeat makes a funny face. Blades asking about Galen's mortality makes Nightbeat think about Muzzle's own mortality, and it's not something Nightbeat really likes to consider. So, instead, he focuses on... Powerglide? "Hnn. That idea... isn't terrible."

 Air Raid says, "Clearly we should break it!"

Impactor peers down the exposed hole. "Can't you read Powerglide? The job detail already stated that in the writeup." he replies without looking around at the mini-bot waving his arms frantically.

 Fairway says, "A mirror? That doesn't sound good.  I have to agree with Air Raid."

 Nightbeat says, "John Dunn made mirrors, yeah?"

First Aid nods with understanding at Fairway's words. "I know what you mean. It's sometimes hard to remember but this is the Cybertronian /Civil/ War. The Decepticons should be working /with/ us instead of /against/ us." He shrugs, "I don't know, I just can't believe that we've drifted so far away from them. That we'd have to go so far as to /kill/ them just to protect ourselves and to protect others. Mind you I consider that the responsibility of the Cons, of course. I truly do believe they have left us with little other choice." First Aid isn't actually doing much work right now, just holding the tricorder as he chats with Fairway.

 Fairway says, "I know naught of this Dunn, sadly. Though I do not doubt Galvatron's vanity, I should point out that mirrors can also be used to focus energy - like in beam cannons."

 Air Raid says, "That settles it, we should break it."

Powerglide crosses his arms and snorts. "Well, I thought it was a good idea." He looks up (and up and up) at Broadside and scowls. "Why are you standing so close to me? I know I'm super popular but come on!"

Hoist stares at Powerglide and shakes his head, Hoist is actually kind of glad that Broadside has taken it on himself to keep the little red jet that could on track and doing his job. "Hmmm that's a considerable hole, the surface around it seems stable enough. We could either leave it and work around it in the plans or cover it over and use it as part of the base. Your choice Impactor."

Still staring down the chasm, Impactor gruffs "Nah, I think we should check this out. Nightbeat, you got some sort of scanner to check the depth of this sucka?"

Combat: Nightbeat searches for Down .

Combat: Down  has been found!

 Rodimus Prime says, "Dunn made mirrors, yes."

"Shaddap dinky-wings, go grab sheet metal or somethin'," Broadside chuffs.

<Autobot> Slag says, "Me Slag want smash!"

Fortress Maximus looks towards Blades as the temporary nature of his binary bonded companion is mentioned. "Yes, Galen will in time succumb to the ravages of time. Bespite the long lives of his people and the additional life extension granted by the bonding process in time he will pass on." He pauses for a moment before going on, "I'm not surewhat I will do. Perhaps I will return to my former state or a drone can be constructed to serve in his place. I'm not entierly sure I would wish to bond such with another organic. Galen is so much a part of me now he would would be hard to replace."

The repairs done, Fairway stands with his hands on his hips, looking aimlessly out at the others and the work they're doing. Broadside looms, as per usual, and is that Powerglide he's with? "Are we not two different species now? It seems that way to me. I find it difficult to believe that the same savagery with which Galvatron attacks his own troops is something that exists within us as well, only held in check."

Nightbeat murmurs, "You wanna know how deep the rabbit hole goes, huh? Well, I wouldn't happen to have a scanner, per se, but I can tell you we won't die if we drop down. Wanna give it a go?" He looks ready to just go down the hatch.

Markdown dusts himself off and backs away from the hole. "Phew. Close one."

VH-64 Gazette <Whirl> hovers down out of sight nearby for a polite landing. chk-chk-chk-crnk-crnk.

Whirl transforms into his reckless robot mode.

"Man, you'd have to be crazy to wanna go down there," Powerglide quips.

First Aid goes for the technical answer, "Well 'species' has always been tough to define for robotic people like ourselves due to he lack of sexual reproduction. Do I feel a kinship with the Decepticons?" He shrugs, "I don't know, I feel like since we were all built and designed by Primus, I can't help but think we should stick together, but that ship has long since sailed." First Aid glances over to see what Fairway is looking at, noticing the gathering of others.

Hoist looks down into the hole, and sweeps it with his radar, happy enough to let others decide what to do with it he goes back to his job, no time for playing games when there's serious work to be done. "Well check it out and make your decision Impactor."

Combat: Hoist initiates a radar sweep of the area.

"Hold up techie, we need to investigate. Fairway, First Aid, Powerglide ... Front and center!" Impactor bellows.

Whirl hustles over towards Impactor out of habit. Halfway there he realizes he's not the one being called to attention and veers off to lurk around behind his boss instead.

Blades continues to strike against the debris, he remains oblivious to the commotion elsewhere about the underground instabilities. "Can't say I know what it feels like to be in the situation you're in, boss. Although I don't like the idea of sharing my head with an organic. I think I have enough show and tell time with the other Protectobots whenever we decide to take Defensor out for a walk." The Protectobot says before lifting his compressed gas pick and striking against a debris on the ground with tremendous force. As the pick hits the debris, the ground underneath crumbles away, taking the debris down with it. A stunned Blades looks over to Fortress Maximus and shrugs, "Eh. I didn't think I was -that- strong. Must have been the energon wheaties."

"W-what!?" Powerglide throws his arms in the air. "Me!? I don't remember volunteering for this!"

Broadside promptly plucks the minibot up by one of his wings and dangles him over it. "I got it Imp," he notifies, and drops Powerglide down the shaft.

Powerglide flails around in Broadside's grasp. "Let go of me you jerk! WAIT! NO! DON'T LET GO! NOOOOO!" He falls down down down into the hole.

Powerglide falls downwards into the darkness.

Fairway is about to launch into a speech that probably would have taken him all day to get through, but Impactor calls him and spares First Aid irreparable damage to his audio receptors. "En route, friend," he says. He steps toward the hole in time to see Broadside huck Powerglide into it. "A bit excessive?" He smiles up at Broadside.

Fairway drops downwards into the darkness.

First Aid whoops and rushes over to Impactor, offering up a salute, "Aye aye, Impactor. We'll get right on it!" He follows after Fairway, "We can talk about this another time, Fairway. It's good to get it out in the open."

First Aid drops downwards into the darkness.

Markdown shrugs, and also hops down the hole. "Oh, well. Was going to anyway."

Markdown plummets downwards into the darkness.

Whirl carefully adjusts his pincer until one claw is pointed up and the other is curled around underneath - a crude and barely recognizeable thumbs-up. "Good luck guys! Call if you need help, I'll send Broadside right down!"

"HEY WHAT YOU AUTOBOTS LOOKING AT?" Yes, this Grimlock. hope this isn't a stealth mission. The dinocommander soars through the air and settles down on the nearby ground with a *boom!* at which point he glances around, as if daring the other Autobots to answer.

Broadside frowns at Whirl, "I ain't goin' down another hole, fraggit!" At Grimlock's arrival, he gives a stiff salute. "We're buildin' a base."

Impactor facepalms. He gave strict orders that Dinobots were to be kept subdued and unawares of this operation.

<Autobot> Sergeant Impactor says, "I need this channel secure!"

<Autobot> Decibel has encrypted this channel.

<Autobot> Jazz says, "What's wrong Impactor?"

<Autobot> Rodimus Prime says, "What's up?"

<Autobot> Sergeant Impactor says, "Prime, were you aware of a underground chasm on the approved dig site for Project: Wreck?"

Grimlock hmms, and tromps on up beside Blades- at which point he leans over the Protectobot warrior, squinting his optic visor to glare down into the hole in the ground. "Hn. Base here?" he asks, "If you build stuff, how come you not get him Grapple guy? THAT HIM JOB."

<Autobot> Rodimus Prime says, "Uhm. Are they different from the underground tunnels all over the rest of the planet?"

Fortress Maximus chuckles a bit at Blades mighty feat of strength. "I'm sure your recent workouts have helped too." Hearing the Powerglides wail he turns and takes notice of the newly found hole. Making a quick memo in his log about it he slowly heads over and peers down just as Grimlock arrives.

<Autobot> Sergeant Impactor says, "We currently have a recon team down there, awaiting report of findings."

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "Recon team!? I got thrown in here!"

<Autobot> Rodimus Prime says, "All right. Well, I'm unaware of anything particularly special on that site, but keep us updated."

<Autobot> Sergeant Impactor says, "Fate rarely calls upon us at a moment of our choosing Powerglide. Orders recieved and understood Prime."

<Autobot> Broadside says, "Hahaha! Good one boss."

<Autobot> First Aid says, "We'll stay in contact. So far nothing special."

<Autobot> Whirl says, "That's what we here in the Wreckers call recon-in-force, Powerglide."

<Autobot> Fortress Maximus says, "Perhaps it was a basement of sub-level to one of the structures that stood here before the area was leveled in conflict?"

Hoist looks over at Grimlock, "Well yes Grimlock, whilst you are quite correct that Grapple is our premier architect we are more than capable of constructing things without his assistance, even if he will be sad to miss out on the fun."

Blades peers down the hole that the other Autobots has gone down, "Well, here's another hole. Big enough to fit a good lot of down there too." The Protectobot glances back up at Grimlock and shrugs, "Eh? Me build stuff? That's a good one. I'm just here doing manual labour like the rest of the other poor sods who ain't bright enough to work those fancy survey equipments like those egg heads." He drops a pebble down the hole and waits for the inevitable echo.

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "This sucks!"

<Autobot> Markdown says, "It'll keep you away from that keg, at least!"

Grimlock hmms, and crosses his arms across his chest- he looks over at Hoist, and shrugs. "Hn. You sure?" he glances around, "'cuz you Hoist and me Grimlock am only smart guys here." he pauses- and then adds on: "Maybe him Fancypants Multiplex, but only 'cuz him have little man in him brain telling him what to do."

Fortress Maximus shrugs a bit and turns away from the pit, somehow another big hole leading into the planet doesn't hold his attention much. At least not standing at the top looking down into it anyhow. Moving away from the others he grins slightly at Grimlocks comment before reaching a pile of former support beams that look able to hold his weight. Shifting them slightly he sits down to wait on word from the spelunkers about their findings.

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "I deserve TWO kegs after this bullcrap!"

<Autobot> Broadside says, "Quit yer' whinin'!"

Whirl peers over the edge of the hole, peering down into the darkness. "I feel like I'm right down there with 'em," he mutters. Blades continues to drop pebbles down the hole, cause his player is having a severe lapse of creativity at the moment.

Hoist laughs good naturedly at Grimlock, "Well you may be right but an extra pair of optics to look things over never hurts a bit. It was one of the less technically sound construction crew members that managed to find that hole." Hoist goes back to scanning for structural integrity after all where there's one hole in the ground there may be others, but at least he won't fall into it.

Nightbeat attempts to hide from the noisy dinosaur. This is a flat plain. That doesn't work. He complains, "Down the hole is looking better and better..."

Impactor stands looking over the hole, arms crossed and looking impatient. "What's takin' em so long?"

Grimlock grunts, and looks over at Whirl. "You UP HERE, stupids." he notes. Really, the Autobot would be lost without Grimlock! Literally.

Whirl tilts his head slightly, looking at Grimlock. "Uh, yeah...that's why I said I /feel/ like I'm right down there. Kind of like when oh, Galvatron feels like he's the emperor of everything he sees, but really he's not. Like when Blitzwing feels like he can take on any flying Autobot, but really he can't. Like when..." he trails off, looking at Grimlock. "Well you get the idea."

Hoist carries on with his work and chuckles as he overhears his fellow Autobots engaging in some light banter well with Grimlock it's not usually deep and thought provoking discussion.

Grimlock hnfs. "But why you feel like you down there? You up here. There be sky n' stuff." Grimlock even points up, helpfully. "And, uh. No old robots or sharkticons or thwatever else am down there. Nothing trying to kills you yet."

Impactor simply shakes his head, still waiting for some kind of sit-rep from the recon team.

Whirl nods in agreement with Grimlock. "Yeah, you're right." He edges towards the open space in the ground. "There could be all kinds of stuff down there..."

Nightbeat notes, too cheerily, "There could be us down there! But there isn't. Lucky us!"

<Autobot> Broadside says, "Ya'll still alive down there?"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "OH GOD THERE ARE ZOMBIES EVERYWHERE"

<Autobot> Markdown says, "No there's not!"

Grimlock hnns. "Shoulda waited for me Grimlock. Whatever am down there, me Grimlock kill it!" he says- entirely too enthusiastically for the typical Autobot. He hmmms, and then scratches at his head- again looking to Fortress Maximus. "Hn. Don't him turn into base? Just have him hang 'round."

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "OH GOD IT HAS MY LEG!"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "GET IT OFF ME! GET IT OFF ME!"

<Autobot> Grimlock says, "You already kill all zombies? Good work!"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "If only I had a shot at that keg earlier...maybe...just maybe I would have enough energy to fight off the horde.."

Impactor remains staring at the endless abyss that is in front of him, "Well, whatchya waitin' fer Grim? Get down there and check up on the recon team."

"OKAY!" Grimlock says- and he steps down into the hole, pulling out his Energo sword in the process! This will end well.

Grimlock jumps downwards into the darkness.

MEANWHILE BENEATH THEIR FEET IN THE DEEP DARK CATACOMBS!! (Log needs the underground adventures added)

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

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "When I get bit and turn into a zombie, you're the first one I'm going after, Markdown."

<Autobot> Fairway says, "We've found something... startling."

<Autobot> Whirl says, "Powerglide's sense of humor?"

<Autobot> Fairway says, "An ancient repair bay perhaps. Inactive until recently.  This is something you should see."

<Autobot> First Aid says, "We're in what looks like some kind of old automated repair chamber."

Blades watches as the Dinobot commander leaps down into the hole before giving Impactor a frown, "Eh, we did give that big lug an exact count of how many people we sent down there, right? He might start swinging that sword of his and really cut down our own."

"Nah, even though he's dim ... Grimlock isn't that stupid, usually he likes to assault his targets verbally before physically harming them." Impactor replies.

<Autobot> Sergeant Impactor says, "How old First Aid?"

<Autobot> First Aid says, "I have no idea."

Fortress Maximus sits lost in thought, not having given much attention to talk of zombies and other such foolishness. Talk of an ancient repair bay perks him up a little, though not much more seems forthcoming so he resigns himself to sitting.

Whirl taps his chin thoughtfully. "There could be a whole city down there. With a splinter race of Transformers that's missed the Autobot-Decepticon conflict. Like the Junkions! Except...without all the TV, I guess."

Blades thinks for a moment at the possibilities of a race of Junkion-like Cybertronians underneath the ground, deprived of TV. "Eh, can't say I really want to meet them folks. I've seen Junkions who gone a few cycles without television. I don't want to see any Junkion-alikes that's gone millennias without it."

<Autobot> Grimlock says, "You Autobots still up theres?"

<Autobot> Nightbeat says, "Lemme check... yup."

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "I think we, I mean, /I/ stumbled on something great."

<Autobot> Sergeant Impactor says, "Yes, and /patiently/ awaiting a sit-rep Grim."

<Autobot> Grimlock says, "Oh. Uh. There lots of stuff down here. And, uuh."

<Autobot> Blades says, "Ugh... there's something down there, eh? I haven't heard any bloody screams so far and nobody has end up mysteriously dead. Am I over stepping my bounds when I suggest that we get a rope and get the rest of us down there and check it out?"

<Autobot> Sergeant Impactor says, "Negative Blades, Grimlock is escorting the expedition crew out as we speak."

<Autobot> Blades says, "Eeesh, there goes that idea then."

Grimlock arrives from the Hidden Passageway below.

Markdown arrives from the Hidden Passageway below.

Whirl jerks back a few steps away from the hole as Autobots begin emerging.

Impactor is seated a few feet from the hole's rim, twiddling his thumbs.

First Aid arrives from the Hidden Passageway below.

Fairway arrives from the Hidden Passageway below.

Grimlock stomps out of the hole. "Ghn. Lots of old stuffs down there." he says,- and glances over his shoulder at the other Autobots. "Hmn. That same number as guys that went down, right?"

"Powerglide?" Impactor grumbles, getting up to his feet.

"That all the IMPORTANT guys who go down, right?" Grimlock asks.

First Aid climbs out of the hole after the others. "It was amazing down there, guys! You won't believe all the stuff. There were dozens of Guardian robots oh and an entire repair wing for them and storage centre for extra parts... Just think if we could reactivate even half of them."

Blades raises an optical ridge, "And suddenly Omega Supreme just got a whole lot less special."

Markdown climbs out awkwardly, his bulky body making it harder for him to get his body over the edge. "Oof. Yeah, it was pretty great. But the equipment in there was in bad shape. I'm not even sure if we can get it all to work. Would be great if we could."

Impactor looks to First Aid, "Did you gather sufficient intel for the higher ups? Prime wants all the info he can about this place."

"Guys! Guys! I saw the coolest stuff down there!" Powerglide exclaims as he crawls up out of the shaft (with a hilarious amount of difficulty)

Nightbeat vanishes in a cloud of awesome. Wait no, he doesn't. He just sort of sulks into the background.

"We have preliminary scans but really we're goign to need a much bigger team to go down there with more specialized equipment," First Aid replies. The Protectobot steps back towards the hole, holding out his hand to help Powerglide out.

Markdown doesn't make a single move to help Powerglide. >:(

"Alright, sounds good." Impactor replies, looking around for some scrap metal. Finding on of considerate size, he drags it over to the opening to cover it. "Let's pile up some rubble around here, help conceal the place ... ya know?"

Grimlock nods, and shrugs towards the smaller 'bots he's been babysitting- er, escorting. "Hmf. You guys make report! And NO TALK ABOUT BASE STUFFS ON RADIO. Is importants." Grimlock nods. "SEEKRIT."

Powerglide begins to slip. "Ack! Help! Markdown, give me your hand!" Powerglide also totally ignores First Aids attempts to help him because he's a jerk.

Markdown takes out his pack of cigars, pulls one out, lights it, and smokes it contentedly.

"YOU HAVE CIGARS!?" Suddenly, Powerglide has enough strength to hold himself up. "Gimme one!"

Blades backs away as the Autobot's impromptu expedition team floods out of the hole, giving the returning members a place to stand. The Protectobot aerial warrior is struggling to keep up with the changes in the situation and at this point he isn't really sure what more he can do to contribute to the situation. He resigns himself to the corner and takes a seat on a stable piece of debris, "Eh, another exciting discovery..."

First Aid doesn't seem to mind Powerglide not accepting his advice, figuring Glide is doing just fine and doesn't want to appear weak in front of the others. "Now now, Powerglide. Ask politely."

"Give me one of those cigars," Powerglide says. "I love you." That's being polite, right?