Let's Kill All The Tentacley Things!

Fri Nov 02, 2033

Radio Basin

Sometime in the distant past, a large but low-density meteorite struck here, creating a shallow basin with some strange properties. The meteorite itself melted on impact, making a mirror-like pool of reflective metal inside the basin and eventually hardening to a smooth, level surface. By some cosmic coincidence, the basin is an almost mathematically-perfect half-sphere and was permeated with radiation transferred from the meteorite. Because of that, radio operation is sporadic at best and nonexistent at worst. Another odd effect is the occasional reception of alien transmissions from off planet when Cybertron aligns precisely with an incoming signal, the basin functioning like a huge satellite dish.

Contents:

First Aid

Groove

Sixshot

Triggerhappy

Franklin Cross

Radio Basin Mountains

Obvious exits: Fly &lt;Up&gt; leads to Sky above Razor Hills. North &lt;N&gt; leads to Razor Hills. South &lt;S&gt; leads to Southron Wastes.

&lt;Autobot&gt; Groove says, "Hey has anyone noticed that a lot of humans are sorta harshing on us lately? Man?"

&lt;Autobot&gt; Blades says, "Yeah. So... what gets blood stains off aviation aluminum, anyway?"

&lt;Autobot&gt; Groove says, "Oh, electrobleach."

&lt;Autobot&gt; Groove says, "Just soak for like, an hour."

&lt;Autobot&gt; Blades says, "Oh, phew, I've got buckets of that stuff."

&lt;Autobot&gt; Groove says, "It'll be like the blood was like, never there."

&lt;Autobot&gt; First Aid says, "I can recommend some cleaners that won't damage your paint job."

&lt;Autobot&gt; Blades says, "That would be swell."

&lt;Autobot&gt; Repugnus says, "Don't clean yourself. Just leave yourself like that as a warning to future victims."

&lt;Autobot&gt; Groove says, "Hey did you guys here that there are like, Quintessons around? Or something? And they play baseball?"

So Contrail had offered free drinks for a Quintesson face, and...something better for a whole one. And not only that, but Shockwave had ordered that Cross' Cybertron base of operations be found. So why not knock out two turbofoxes with one blast? Besides, an excuse to shoot at something was always a plus for Triggerhappy. Thus, when Shockwave ordered Sixshot and himself after a suspicious anti-neutrino spike in Radio Basin, thanks to the scanner the scientist had invented based on the crystal sample stolen from that transport near Iacon a few megacycles ago, the Targetmaster had been more than happy to oblige. "Think this is it, Sixshot?" He asks the powerful sixchanger as they approached the site. "Think this is Cross' big base on Cybertron?"

&lt;Autobot&gt; Blades sighs, "No, see, I've got to clean myself off so that Defensor doesn't look funny. The things I do for my team."

&lt;Autobot&gt; Groove says, "You're always super nice."

"Could be." Sixshot replies, one cannon slung over his shoulder casually. "I think we should get closer, but not too close. It's sure to be crawling with guards." Sixshot looks down at his wrist. "Though I'm not picking anything up. Slagging signal interference. That's probably why he picked this place."

"Staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanding talllllllllllllllllllllllllll! On the wiiiiiings of myy dreeeeeeeeeeeeeems!" Groove revs ahead of First Aid, enjoying the open Cybertron road. "Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiise and fallllllllllllllllllll! Something somethiiiiiiiiiiing dreams!" He forgets the rest of the words and starts to hum to himself.

Ambulance &lt;First Aid&gt;'s bad mood hasn't gotten any better over the past twenty-four hours, but he's at least being more quiet about it. Maybe Hot Spot's decision to push the team back in the field was a good idea. The Protectobots are spread out across the entire radio basin, each scouting out an individual area. First Aid's sector is in the depression near the eastern rim. Decrystallizer out, headlights peeled, First Aid silently stalks through the area. The basin is so smooth there's really no-where one could hide, First Aid thinks. Upon hearing /someone/, First Aid sighs, "You're in the wrong sector, Groove. Come on, get back into position."

Bell UH-1 Iroquois &lt;Blades&gt; is out scouting on Cybertron. He knows that First Aid will not be too happy, given current events. Leaving behind their super sweet firehouse base in California is, well... Blades will miss that brig, is all he will say. But hey, if the dumb humans that are upsetting the other Autobots want to make like tunnel rats and dig in on Cybertron, Blades has no objections to playing ratcatcher. Or maybe exterminator. His helicopter searchlight sweeps over the ground below him as he choppers overhead.

Within a cloaked Quintesson ship, a trio of Quintesson watches their main screen anxiously. It's zoomed in on the Decepticons present in the area, wandering about below them. "Decepticons? Here!?" the first, Narcophus says. "Impossible! Our ship is completely undetectable!"

"It may be a coincidence," says a second, Cularatius. "This is a large area."

"Never underestimate the ingenuity of the Decepticons," says a third, Traumortis. "Let us observe them for now, but if the Decepticons know how to track our ships, we will need to know why. In the meantime, I shall check on the status of the crystal experiment..."

Traumortis leaves the bridge, descending further into the ship, eventually happening upon none other than Franklin Cross (flanked by two Baseball Agents), observing as a heavily plated Sharkticon variant is having a new arm attached to its body. "I assume the integration Cybercidic cannons has been successful?" Traumortis asks.

"Yes," Cross says, turning to the Quintesson. "Soon you'll have an army of Sharkticons that the Cybertronians will not be able to stand against."

Triggerhappy scans the suspected area, encircling the full perimeter a couple times while searching for evidence of human or Quintesson presence. However, the only thing thus far is the high anti-neutrino readings on Shockwave's scanners. "Well, I don't see any guards yet but...Ugh, you were right about that interference...my far-range sensors are going haywire." But then he notices the Protectobots scouting out below. Now, his first inclination would be to simply shoot at them, but strangely enough he thinks better of it, this time. If they were upset enough with Cross, they -could- be willing to ally themselves with he and Sixshot--if only temporarily. "Hey look, it's those Protectobums." he points out, though Sixshot has probably already noticed them himself.

BMW R1200RT-P Police Motorcycle &lt;Groove&gt; scowls at his instruments again...Nothing seems to be working right. &lt;&lt;Sorry First Aid, got carried away. Anyone else having some performance issues? It's weird. Does it mean that there's nothing to see, or a SOMETHING someone doesn't like, want us to see? Maybe there's something uot here to make us lose the Olympics.&gt;&gt;

Sixshot charges up his cannons, in anticipation as he spots them at about the same time. He looks back at Triggerhappy. "Hm...you think they're up here for the same thing we are?" he says, and looks back down into the valley below. "Better they're on our side if they are."

Ambulance &lt;First Aid&gt; doesn't bother answering Groove this time. How often can you explain to him that the Olympics finished, like, ages ago? Ah well, First Aid thinks, at least he's finally figured out who 'that tall flame-coloured guy who keeps ordering us around' is. But then the Protectobot notices that, yes, his instruments are also hazy. Radio calls come in from Streetwise and Hot Spot indicating the same. "Maybe there's more here than we first thought." For a brief moment, First Aid's interest is piqued enough that he forgets he's supposed to be angry.

Bell UH-1 Iroquois &lt;Blades&gt; has to be skeptical when Groove starts reporting reality not acting properly. It's Groove. However, First Aid is probably more sober than Blades is, so that means the point merits some consideration. He starts to fly in that direction and announces, "I'll check it out."

"It seems that your timing may be impeccable," Traumortis says. "There are Decepticons--" He pauses. "--Decepticons AND Autobots present in the area."

Cross glowers at that. "Really? But we're cloaked! How could they--" Then it hits him. How did they find him LAST time? He turns to the newly refitted Sharkticon. "Dammit. They know we're here. It's the crystals, they gave us away somehow!"

Traumortis shows no sign of displeasure at that. "...then perhaps we should execute a... test run of these new weapons?"

"Dunno..." Triggerhappy says vaguely in response to Sixshot. "We should find out." And he begins descending toward the Autobots, transforming before he touches the ground right in front of First Aid. Yeah, that pacifist medic guy, right? (Shockwave had files on like, -everyone-.). He figured that one would be the easiest to talk into helping them. It's pretty difficult for him, but he manages to keep his weapon in his subspace. That is, except Blowpipe, who does not take on his gun form and lands on the ground next to his partner. Recently though, Triggerhappy has actually been showing an unusual amount of self-control. Maybe that brain module zapper had actually been therapeutic or something? Who knew.

Sixshot follows, his weapon back over his shoulder. "Protectobots. Hah. Pacifists." he says, shaking his head and leaping downward after Triggerhappy.

&lt;&lt;Alright, but be careful,&gt;&gt; First Aid replies. After continuing along the basin at a high speed for a few more minutes, First Aid suddenly screeches to a halt to avoid running down the Targetmaster that just landed in front of him. A split second later he realizes how dumb that was, but by then it's too late. &lt;&lt;Decepticon!&gt;&gt; he shouts into his radio. His decrystallizer focuses on Triggerhappy. "Don't move!" But then he notices that Blowpipe is no-where to be seen, and it occurs to him that if Triggerhappy wanted to fight he would have just blasted him from the sky. Any thought of shooting Triggerhappy vanishes when Sixshot joins his fellow Decepticon. Flipping up into robot mode, First Aid eyes both of them suspiciously. "Let me guess: scanning instruments acting up?"

Ambulance &lt;First Aid&gt; flips up into robot mode.

Blades successfully lands... and when he does, a Quintesson ship materializes under him and begins firing lasers in every direction! Two more ships decloak and suddenly the area is lit up like a laser show! And as the ships open fire, hatches open up all over the Quintesson ships, disgorging hordes of Sharkticons... followed by a new, heavily armored Sharkticon with large cannons for arms! The latter begin shooting immediately, firing pale beams that disintegrate Cybertronian metal on impact.

When First Aid directs his decrystalizer at Triggerhappy, he raises his hands into the air, smirking a little as Sixshot touches down behind him. "Hey, hey, now you know me...if I were planning on shooting you I would've done it already."

&lt;Autobot&gt; Blades says, "Hey whoa, this nothing sure ain't norhing! Heads up, because we have incoming!"

"Aye" says Sixshot, staring down at the slightly smaller Protectobot, not slinging his own weapon down from his shoulder despite the crystallizer being pointed at them. He looks about for a moment. "Why is it you're here?"

First Aid, in robot mode, no longer has any weapon trained on the Decepticons. Somehow his photon pistol isn't going to threaten either of them, he knows. "Hot Spot ordered us to the sector to investigate some sightings from the locals. He had a hunch that they might be signs of-" *Hey whoa, this nothing sure ain't norhing! Heads up, because we have incoming!* "-/Quintessons/," First Aid exclaims upon hearing Blades's report. He points past the Decepticons towards the laser light show that can be made out on the horizon. From here it the Quintesson ship can barely be made out, but the weaponsfire is unmistakable. First Aid pushes his way past the two, transforming back into ambulance mode and charging off to save his friend!

First Aid folds down into Ambulance mode.

Bell UH-1 Iroquois &lt;Blades&gt; is now in a hail of lasers. He cannot dodge them all, and he gets knocked out of the air and ends up hitting the ground of the basin, on his back, staring up at the Quintesson ship. Eloquently, he says, "Oh, slag." He reaches for his piddly &lt;s&gt;flashlight&lt;/s&gt; photon pistol and takes aim at the Quintessons ship, two-handed, and fires. &lt;&lt;So. About those Decepticons you mentioned? I think we have bigger problems.&gt;&gt;

Bell UH-1 Iroquois &lt;Blades&gt; transforms into his Blades mode.

The storm of lasers ought to be rather hard not to notice at this point. Even so, Blades's attempt at retaliation does very little to the target. Well, okay, a Quintesson one-facer scowls as his targeting camera fizzles out. "Oh, foo," it pouts, recalibrating until the camera comes back online, whereupon it begins shooting again.

The Sharkticons, meanwhile, are overjoyed that Blades is down at ground level, and immediately begin swarming around him, preparing to devour him. At least they're providing a little cover?

"Eh?" Sixshot says, turning around. "Well, looks like the enemy of our enemy is our friend...for now." he continues, drawing his other cannon from subspace and heading toward the ruckus.

"Hah. I knew it!" Triggerhappy laughs. All that torture Cross had subjected him to had been worth it. "-So-... the 'Bots have finally come to their sensors and turned on their 'so-called' EDC friends. I guess you mechs are -little- smarter than I thought you were. Tell you what, you help us kidnap one of those tentacle things, and we'll help you save your friend. And we won't murder you. Probably." With that, he takes to the air and flies toward the fray.

Blades is being eaten alive by Sharkticons. This day just got 37% cooler. Target-rich environment and a very low chance of collateral damage? Perfection. He puts away his photon pistol and pulls out something rather more interesting: an anti-cybercidic radiation device designed by Perceptor, which he attaches to his arm. He mutters, "This had better work." Then Blades grabs one of the blades off his back, and he tries to cut his way to freedom from the pile he's in.

Combat: Blades compares his Accuracy to 40: Success!

Ambulance &lt;First Aid&gt;'s focus is on saving Blades and not the Decepticons bickering behind him. Given the choice between shooting an Autobot and shooting a Quintesson, First Aid is reasonably sure they'll pick the latter. He has no line of sight on the Sharkticons harassing Blades, but he can at least pick off a few sharks. Even as he ducks and weaves at high speed, First Aid takes the odd shot. Any Sharkticon hit suddenly crumples in on themselves. Who's sapient NOW!?

Combat: Ambulance &lt;First Aid&gt; compares his Accuracy to 40: Success!

Sharkticons swarm all around Blades, snapping and clawing. Alas, being only Sharkticons, Blades cleaves through them pretty easily, and soon a trail of slashed, decapitated, and eviscerated Sharkticons forms behind him. Eventually they give way to the more advanced Sharkticons, armed with Cybercidic weapons! They raise them up at Blades, preparing to fire...

First Aid helps clear a way out for Apocryphacius, as well, reducing several Sharkticons to non-sapience with his accurate fire.

Meanwhile, more heavily armored Sharkticons land near the Decepticons, and begin firing Cybercidic beams at them. "DIE!" they yell, displaying the usual wit that Sharkticons are known for.

Sixshot is enjoying this immensely, and pops off a shot from each of his cannons at a separate target. He just chuckles at the stupid sharks as vapor rises from the end of the barrel.

Combat: Sixshot compares his Accuracy to 40: Success!

Combat: Sixshot compares his Accuracy to 40: Success!

"Ooookay." Triggerhappy says as he watches First Aid charge into the fight and begin shooting at Sharkticons. "I'll take that as a 'yes'." And he starts firing away at Sharkticons, too many times to count. Oh, this is sweet. In fact, he reflects Blades' exact sentiment, minus the collateral damage part, since that isn't usually a concern of his. "Wonder if the humam bossman himself is here." he asides to Sixshot as the two of them let loose with a barrage of laser fire.

Combat: Triggerhappy compares his Accuracy to 40: Failure :(

Combat: Triggerhappy compares his Accuracy to 40: Success!

Combat: Triggerhappy compares his Accuracy to 40: Success!

Ambulance &lt;First Aid&gt; glances in his rear view mirror as the two Decepticons are hassled by some of the more heavy duty Sharkticons. He suspects Sixshot and Triggerhappy have it well in hand given the pain they're unleashing, but... Aid still doesn't have a clear shot to save Blades, and so he decides to help the pair of Decepticons by fragging one of them with the decrystalizer. The Protectobot is right underneath the Quintesson ship. "Now how in the world am I going to get up there?" he wonders.

Combat: Ambulance &lt;First Aid&gt; compares his Accuracy to 40: Success!

Blades lets out a riotous whoops of joy, his blue optics alight with pure delight. No sooner does he dice one Sharkticon then he's lunging out for another, heedless of the injuries accumulating on his frame. Any day where his day is marked by torn bodies is a good day for the street punk of the Protectobots. He looks up at the Quintesson ship looming above, and he 'hrms'. That's a bit out of the range of objects that can be plausibly knife-fought.

Combat: Blades compares his Accuracy to 40: Success!

Sixshot scores direct hits on the brainpans of two of the Super Sharkticons (let's call them that) and they stand still for a moment, smoke roiling out of their heads, before they finally fall flat on their faces. Meanwhile, the Super Sharkticons are shooting back with their cybercidic weapons... which mysteriously vanish just before impacting the Decepticons! "Huhhhh?" one blurts out. "Why no work?" He has little time to ponder that before he's caught in a spray of shots by Triggerhappy, which, while not very accurate, at least manage to get him and a few other Sharkticons, toppling them over. A few more get from behind by First Aid, and while they don't go down as easily as the other Sharkticons, he does manage to kill one.

But, oh, no! Blades didn't use Perceptor's countermeasure on the Super Sharkticons menacing him and now they're firing Cybercidic rays at him! Darnit, Blades, if only you didn't hate guns!

Now Cross is watching from the Quintesson bridge, mortified, as his treasured weapons prove useless against the Decepticons. "I don't... how is this..." he sputters.

"Your 'game-changer' has failed, General," Traumortis declares, switching to his Judgement face. "And I dare say that it might have been intentional. After all, your forces are already on Cybertron. What need have you for us, now?"

"No! No, dammit!" Cross says, teeth clenched. "They... they found a countermeasure! That's all! I didn't set you up, why would I? *They* are my enemies, not you!"

Traumortis considers. "Yes... I believe you. You are, indeed... *innocent.*" The Quintessons chuckle to each other as a look of horror fills Cross's face.

Combat: Blades compares his Agility to 60: Success!

Sixshot runs forward to take on a few more, but then notices Blades' odd behavior. "Stupid pacifists, I don't know why I'm doing this!" he says as he turns his fire on the Sharkticon firing on the Protectobot.

Combat: Sixshot compares his Accuracy to 40: Success!

Triggerhappy is enjoying himself more and more each astrosecond, as the Sharkticons run amok. They attempt to hit him with the disintegrator rays, but Shockwave's countermeasure kicks in like it's supposed to and renders the radiation harmless! Ah, Shockwave...he was not one to fail his comrades often. Meanwhile, if Blades would just use device had activated just before the fight, the nanotech the scientist had installed would fly into the cybercidic weapons and disable them, also rendering them harmless. Despite the good time he is having, Triggerhappy hasn't lost sight of the objective. They had to get inside that ship. "I know, it doesn't seem natural Sixshot, but they're making this a lot easier than it could be. We need to get inside that ship," He says as he begins pushing forward toward an open cargo bay door from which the Sharkticons were emerging. The Targetmaster pauses momentarily to shoot at a couple of Sharkticons on his front left, then punch another to his right before continuing. "That's where the Quints have got to be."

Combat: Triggerhappy compares his Accuracy to 40: Failure :(

Combat: Triggerhappy compares his Accuracy to 40: Success!

Combat: Triggerhappy compares his Accuracy to 40: Success!

Blades did attach that magic box thingie that Perceptor made to his arm, but he may have done so wrong on account of being a nutjob. In any case, he manages to dodge the cybercidic disintegration rays that the Sharkticons fire at him. Flicking the energon off his blade - it makes the /best/ splatter marks - he rubs his chin with his other hand and thinks about the ship some more. Polyhex had a Deathsat dropped on it. What are the chances of that ship exploding really well into some other significant city-state, like, say, Iacon? He yanks the magic box off his arm, attaches it to a landing skid instead, and he takes to the air, trying to chopper up and over the ship. Sharkticons leap and snap at him as he pulls away from the melee, one taking a big gouge out of his tailboom, another tearing a rent through his nose.

Blades transforms into his Bell UH-1 Iroquois &lt;Blades&gt; mode.

Ambulance &lt;First Aid&gt; flips into robot mode, diving behind the wreckage of a particularly fat Sharkticon as Blades transforms and lifts off. Oh boy, now Blades is going to fight the entire ship by himself. Typical! The doctor pauses long enough to check his radar to see how long before the other Protectobots can get here. Looks like they're on their own for now, and First Aid looks back up in time to see a Sharkticon taking aim at the helicopter with his cybercidic weapon. Aid tries to blast him with a photon blast before he gets the chance. Ambulance &lt;First Aid&gt; flips up into robot mode.

Combat: First Aid compares his Accuracy to 40: Success!

&lt;Autobot&gt; Blades says, "Perceptor. These anti-cybercidic doodads you made. Is there any way to, uh, amp up the power on 'em? So they could deal with capitol guns?"

&lt;Autobot&gt; Perceptor says, "Hmmm."

&lt;Autobot&gt; Perceptor says, "What resources are available to you?"

&lt;Autobot&gt; Perceptor says, "An auxiliary energon reservoir may be sufficient, or perhaps interfacing multiple modules."

&lt;Autobot&gt; Blades says, "...I have a bucket of cyberbleach?"

Flash! Ah-ah! Savior of the... well, okay, Blades is no Flash Gordon--he'll never get the damsel in distress. Maybe a hooker, instead. But his ascent is plagued by nearly as many lasers as were fired at Flash in the movie. Meanwhile, behind Cross on the main screen of the Quint vessel, Blades looms large. "The Autobots! They're trying to board us!" Cularatius says. "No, fool!" says Narcophus, switching the main screen to a video feed of Triggerhappy busting in through a hatch. "We HAVE been boarded! Let's get out of here!"

Cross glances to his agents, then they make a run for it while the Quintessons are distracted. "GET THEM!" Traumortis roars, and a bunch of Sharkticons try to nab them, but their clumsy, ungainly bodies fall all over themselves.

Down on the ground, Sixshot and First Aid provide effective cover fire for Blades, so at least he doesn't have to be shot at from THAT direction.

&lt;Autobot&gt; Perceptor says, "What exactly do yoou mean by 'capitol guns'?"

&lt;Autobot&gt; Blades says, "I mean there's a Quintesson ship here, and I don't want it shooting anything we care about!"

&lt;Autobot&gt; Perceptor says, "Well, if an energon reservoir is unavailable, interfacing multiple modules together will create a larger, collective power source and potentially increase null field output."

Shaking his head again, Sixshot runs forward. "Time to bring this thing down where it is!" he says, and transforms.

&lt;Autobot&gt; Blades says, "Okay. Great. I'll just throw a rope down in the middle of a pitched battle and ask First Aid to come up here and combine his box with mine to summon Captain Planet."

&lt;Autobot&gt; Perceptor says, "Hm/"

&lt;Autobot&gt; Perceptor says, "Hm?"

Sixshot opens a volley of fire on the underside of the ship, aiming for any propulsion systems that might be exposed.

&lt;Autobot&gt; First Aid says, "Dang, if there was a ramp around we could try plan seventy-nine beta..."

&lt;Autobot&gt; Perceptor says, "Yes, that has an 87.22% chance to be effective."

Combat: Armored Ram Tank &lt;Sixshot&gt; compares his Accuracy to 0: Success!

Ah, nice move, Blades. The nanites in the anti-disintegrator are attracted to the crystals, and begin passing through the hull of the ship toward any of those interdimensional crystal-based weapons that might be inside, destined to get inside of them and do their job. However, the single module may not be enough to disable -all- of them.

Meanwhile, Triggerhappy has indeed burst through a hatch, having knocked it down with a strong blast of compressed air from Blowpipe while Sixshot wreaked havoc on the ship's propulsion systems. He laughs as the clumsy Sharkticons tumble over themselves as they attempt to stop him. Laughing, he broadcasts on an open comm channel throughout the Quintesson vessel. "Who was it that said all that rustwash about -these- scrapheaps being sapient, while the Autobots -weren't-?" As he is speaking, he continues blasting, kicking, and punching this attackers.

Combat: Triggerhappy compares his Accuracy to 40: Success!

Combat: Triggerhappy compares his Accuracy to 40: Success!

Combat: Triggerhappy compares his Accuracy to 40: Success!

Combat: Bell UH-1 Iroquois &lt;Blades&gt; compares his Agility to 60: Success!

Bell UH-1 Iroquois &lt;Blades&gt; is looking like a piece of Swiss cheese, he's taken so many shots. He tries to land on top of the Quintesson ship, transform, and throw a rope down to First Aid. Then First Aid can climb up, they can combine their McGuffins, and &lt;s&gt;summon Captain Planet&lt;/s&gt; &lt;s&gt;form Wonder Twins&lt;/s&gt; nullify the capitol guns on the ship.

Bell UH-1 Iroquois &lt;Blades&gt; transforms into his Blades mode.

First Aid looks up as a rope comes daling down. "...oh, he was being serious. I thought he... ah nevermind," Aid jumps up, snagging the rope at the half way point before struggling to climb the rest of the way. Soon he reaches the top of the ship, likely getting a hand up right at the very end. "Whew," he says, "Deja vu, huh? Maybe I should just strap a rocket jet to my back and cut out of the middle mech, huh?"

The Quintesson ship lurches to the side as its anti-grav takes a devastating hit, explosions blossoming alongside the ship's hull. "Ascend! Ascend!" Narcophus cries. "We can't, we're losing power!" Cularatius says. Traumortis sighs as the humans escape from them, and says, "There's only one thing we can do. Perhaps we were wrong to dismiss the General's weapon so quickly. Prepare to detonate the Cybercidic field." Narcophus looks to Cularatius, then says, "But... that will destroy our Sharkticons!" They stare at each other for a moment, then they laugh. Meanwhile, Traumortis flips up the safety panel protecting the Cybercidic activation button, and is about to press it with a tentacle...

Meanwhile, Trigs is menaced by more of the Super Sharkticons, but they apparently didn't hear from their friends that the weapon isn't working on him more as they fire at him fruitlessly!

As Sixshot gets close enough, he fires a final volley at the propulsion systems and transforms yet again.

Sixshot leaps up and backward, his wings splaying out and the rest of his form coming together into a nimble space fighter craft. Several loud cracks can be heard from Sixshot's wing cannons as he blows a hole in the side of the ship, and flies in.

Triggerhappy cackles as he fires in rapid succession, watching several Sharkticons' heads blow up and splatter energon and other body parts everywhere. He plows through them as Sixshot blasts his way in from the side. "You're late to the party," he comments to his comrade. "Come on, let's get to the bridge." The Targetmaster kicks down another door. Blasting, slamming, and eviscerating his way through the endless waves of Sharkticons whose disintegrator rays continue to avail them nothing, he finally comes to the door to the bridge or control room where the Quintessons are about to set off some kind of radiation blast. Grinning, he aims Blowpipe at the door.

"Knock knock!"

CLANK CLANK The metal groans and caves inward from the shots' impact. Not long before it will give way...

Blades does indeed give First Aid a hand up, and he promptly tries to hand First Aid his anti-cybercidic device. He also pops open his forearm and offers up an energon line. Hopefully First Aid can fit together the anti-cybercidic devices+extra energon+duct tape+bailing wire+Bondo and do something about this ship they are standing on that is looming like a vast predatory bird.

First Aid takes the anti-cybercidic device in one hand and the energon line in the other. Blades will have to cover him as he fiddles with it to get it working again. "Oh, I see the problem. Perceptor didn't design this thing with the idea that someone would intentionally let themselves get dogpiled by Sharkticons just so they could hack and slash their way out," First Aid says as he makes the needed corrections, all while lasers fly past the pair. "Hint hint, Blades."

Blades grunts, "Pretty bad oversight on Perceptor's part, if you ask me!" which First Aid didn't, "Who /wouldn't/ get dogpiled by Sharkticons?" but he does grudgingly draw with his free arm his photon pistol to cover them.

The door soon gives way to the Decepticons' assault, revealing the bridge! Traumortis's tentacle hovers over the button that will activate the Cybercidic Field and rid themselves of the Transformers forever. "Too late, Decepticons!" Traumortis says, switching to his Death face. "We will activate the ULTIMATE weapon against you, and be rid of you and your friends!" His tentacle slaps down on the button. Nothing. Traumortis glances at the button, hits it again. Again. And again. And again. "...ah. GET TO THE ESCAPE PODS!" he cries, and he and the other Quintessons immediately flee, trying to reach the various escape pods on the bridge. Meanwhile, some hungry Sharkticons throw themselves at the Decepticons to try and run interference/eat.

Uhoh, looks like the Sharkticons are climbing up the rope that First Aid used to get to the Protectobots! While Blades's photon pistol blinds the Sharkticon in the lead, causing him to pause in annoyance before his brethren simply climb over him, they'll on top of the Protectobots soon.

Sixshot shifts upward and unfolds into his robot mode, twin cannons in hand.

Sixshot transforms again, and rushes toward the bridge with Triggerhappy, punching Sharkticons with one hand and shooting with the other as he books it down the hallway.

Combat: Sixshot compares his Accuracy to 40: Success!

Combat: Sixshot compares his Accuracy to 60: Success!

Triggerhappy had noticed via one of the holopanels in the room monitoring the area on top of the ship that the Protectobots had been fiddling with something on top of the ship. Maybe that was why the 'ultimate weapon' didn't work. Or maybe the Quints had been bluffing the entire time. That was unlikely, though, from the looks on their faces at -least-. &lt;&lt;Heh, nice one Autobots. I have to admit, you're a lot more sapient than -Sharkticons-, despite your fleshy 'friends'' little analyses.&gt;&gt; He broadcasts on an open comm channel. But now the Quintessons are attempting to get away, and he can't have that, now can he? There was a reason for coming here other than blowing up Sharkticons, believe it or not. "Oh hoh hoh, -whereee- do you think you're going, Tentacles?" The Targetmaster taunts, easily moving more quickly than the Quints and hover-dashing in front of Traumortis. Perhaps because he was the one who had been about to hit THE BUTTON. He attempts to grab the Quintesson by his floating tentacle-feet and pull him back, away from the escape pods.

First Aid hands the repaired cybercidic weapon back to Blades. "Well just try to be careful with it this time," he stresses. Now that his hands are free, he fires a quick surgical laser blast at the rope, severing it and sending the Sharkticons climbing it plummeting back down to the ground. &lt;&lt;Ugh, that isn't even funny, Triggerhappy,&gt;&gt; First Aid retorts over the radio. "So what's the plan, Blades?"

Blades rubs the back of his head and admits, "...this /was/ my plan. How about we get out of here? Command's gonna need our report." He transforms again. Blades points out idly, "You didn't see any humans here, did you?"

Blades transforms into his Bell UH-1 Iroquois &lt;Blades&gt; mode.

Traumortis is snagged! "Gah! Release me!" Traumortis cries, tentacles wriggling feebly in Triggerhappy's grip. "Best of luck with that, my colleague!" Narcophus says as he drags himself into an escape pod, and Cularatius does the same. The escape pods fire, heading *up* into space.

And just as Blades asks that, who should be running aross the hull of the ship towards First Aid and Blades but... General Cross and his agents! "First Aid?" Cross says. "Ahh... alright, I can see now why you Autobots don't like the Quintessons! Yes, I was here as part of a.... diplomatic mission, but they abruptly decided to betray me! The agents helped me escape through a missile tube, though. Uh... but we're going to need a way off the ship! Can you help us?"

Sixshot fires at the side of the ship, trying to make an exit. "No good." he says, and with a look of desperation, grabs the quint by the tentacles and swings him around like a sock full of rocks, smashing him into the cannon-weakened portion to make a hole.

&lt;Autobot&gt; Blades sighs, sounding distruntled, "...there's some human-sized handcuffs if you open up the back cabinet in my hold. Don't ask why I have those."

Triggerhappy grins, dragging Traumortis toward himself by his feebly wriggling tentacle-leg things. He gets up into his face. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tentacles, but I'm afraid I can't do that. Especially since that was the whole -reason- why I came here." The Targetmaster shakes Traumortis roughly, laughing. "I mean, did you people -seriously- think that you could hide here -forever-, that we'd -never- find you? Did you -really- think we were all as stupid as your Sharkticons?! Primus, I'm having a hard time believing your kind actually -brought- us Cybertronians into existence!" He turns his optics upward for a moment and throws up his free arm for emphasis, then turns and begins following Sixshot out of the hole he'd just made, dragging Traumortis with him.

Once outside, who should he come upon but Franklin Cross himself, doing a horrible job of lying. Heh, no surprise there. "Hah! You know, for a deceitful little piston rod you sure are terrible liar, Cross."

"Ah," First Aid says, "Might want to double check that. We have ourselves some guests. I never would have expected..." He points past the chopper bot towards the approaching humans. Elbowing Blades discreetly, he says, "I can't believe our luck..." Then, in a louder voice, he says, "Sure thing, General! Boy are we glad to see you. Here, hop on. Hurry, before Triggerhappy can get you!" he opens Blades's side door so the humans can get in. Once they do, First Aid peeks through the door, "By the way: Franklin Cross, you're under arrest for torturing sapient Decepticons. Blades, kindly explain how Cybertron Law works to the General." SLAM! First Aid closes the door behind Cross. It's Blades's responsibility to lock it. Glancing over his shoulder, he says, "Thanks for the help, Triggerhappy."

Bell UH-1 Iroquois &lt;Blades&gt; locks that door so very hard, and he points out, "And don't even think about trying to hijack me. I /am/ the aircraft, and unless you wanna die in a fireball crash that /I/ will survive, you just sit tight there. You have the right to a race by which your identity may be determined. You also have the right to a duel, whereupon the loser will be exiled into space. Do you understand these rights? 'cos if you don't, I can't say I care." The helicopter takes off into the air, and he wonders if, just this one time, he can do a Vortex impression.

Using Traumortis as a blunt object knocks him out cold, but at least it also opens up the hole that Sixshot wanted. And when Triggerhappy happens upon Cross, yes the General does see him, and is quite alarmed! "Oh, dammit! Quick, get me out of here before that psycho comes after me!" He clambers into Blades, the agents following suit. And then the door slams shut, and Cross realizes too late that First Aid has turned on him. The agents--Blue Jays and Orioles--glower at this development, but seem powerless to stop it. Cross's lower lip trembles for a moment. "I see... yeah, I see now. All those charity events you wanted me to go to, all those... gestures of friendship! It was all a load of crap from the start, wasn't it?"

Meanwhile, the Quintesson ship, having lost power thanks to Sixshot, begins an involuntary descent!

&lt;Autobot&gt; Blades says, "Stay strong, First Aid. Don't listen to his beryllium baloney."

Sixshot transforms quickly into his starfighter form again, noticing the immediate danger. "Time to get ourselves and our quarry out of here, Triggerhappy!" he says, firing his thrusters and heading away as quickly as possible, trusting his cohort to do the same.

Sixshot leaps up and backward, his wings splaying out and the rest of his form coming together into a nimble space fighter craft.

"It's all the same to you, First Aid." Triggerhappy nods at the Protectobot, a smirk still plastered onto his face. He watches Blades take off with Cross has his prisoner, then looks down at his own prisoner with satisfaction before glancing up at Sixshot. "One of those rare instances where both we -and- the Autobots get exactly what we wanted." It was nice, actually. Sort of. He nods and pushes the unconscious Traumortis into Sixshot's passenger bay before transforming and flying away from the falling ship as well. "Right on. Let's get back to base."

First Aid nods back at Triggerhappy, glad that the Decepticons are fine with this outcome. But then the General speaks. "But... I-" First Aid starts at Cross through the window, and for a moment he suddenly feels himself stabbed with guilt. He wanted so hard to make peace with Cross and the EDC. Maybe there's still hope for the General. But then he remembers Marissa Faireborn laying in a hospital bed at death's door, the product of a sickness brought on by a mass murderer on a galactic scale. "No," he says earnestly. "They were all genuine. I was trying my best to save you." As the Quintesson ship starts to plummet and Blades takes off, the doctor leaps and grabs onto his friend's landing strut, per plan seventy-nine gamma. He resists the urge to look behind at the inevitable explosion.

Bell UH-1 Iroquois &lt;Blades&gt; does not give a slag about the Baseball Cap Dudes glowering in his hold. He does, however, comment of Cross, "Wow. You really are a sick piece of work. First Aid was totally convinced that you'd wake up and be a nice person if only he tried hard enough. Broke his leaking fuel pump when he finally came to terms with the fact that you're never gonna change. And you've got the gall to accuse him of bad faith? You oughta wish you were riding in him instead of me. Because First Aid would probably forgive you for that jab. Now, me?"

"I /never/ liked you."

The Huey flies away from the explosion in beautifully rendered slo mo, and then he dips down low enough to let First Aid off gently at the ground.

&lt;Autobot&gt; Blades says, "How many Gs can a human handle before passing out?"

&lt;Autobot&gt; First Aid says, "About-- wait, why do you want to know?"

Franklin Cross clenches his teeth, grinding them together. He stares at Blades' control stick, seeing it move about on its own, and for a moment he's tempted to just grab the stick and force him to fly elsewhere, but he knows it would be no good. Instead, he just goes along for the ride, fuming at how disastrously the day has turned out. Agent Blue Jays and Agent Orioles share a glance. Do they have a secret contingency plan, or do they both realize they're screwed? Hard to tell with these guys.

&lt;Autobot&gt; Blades says, "Because I want Cross awake when we throw him in the brig."