Seibertron.com Energon Pub Forums

Clemency - Decepticon Worldsweeper Remains

The planet Clemency was for all intents and purposes, a mass grave, filled with the dead of the Decepticon forces. Hundreds of warship husks dotted the landscape, reaching out for the sky with their jagged edges. Below on the dusty barren landscape, the corpses of thousands of cybertronians littered the ground. Clemency had once been the site of an enormous battle between the Autobots and Decepticons. The Autobots had collected their dead. The Decepticons had neglected to do so, and now this sad sight was all that remained of this world. The war had left this world a cemetery.

The war had returned to this system yet again to finish what it had started. The Decepticon flagship, the Nemesis, had returned to the Kol System. On board it were the crew of the Predators led by none other than the ruthless and relentless Skyquake. A monster made metal. The Nemesis had fortunately not held the Decepticon supreme commander Megatron, but that did not change the ease with which the flagship had shot the Eight Track down.

The Eight Track, which had harbored a crew headed by himself, Thunderclash, as well as the rest of the Turbomasters and other Autobot recruits, had crashed onto Clemency. The crash had injured many of them and killed others, but there had been no time to rest or recuperate afterward. The Predators had descended upon them with their usual relentlessness. Thunderclash had done what he could...but in the end, their only option was a retreat. The Autobots ducked and weaved through the old battlefields and somehow managed to lose the Predators. A short reprieve but it had allowed the Autobots to regroup and begin formulating a long-term plan.

With the Eight Track partially destroyed by the crash, there was no way off of Clemency. The Decepticon ships dotting the world had all crashed as well, with little hope of ever flying again. They did, however, still carry some useful supplies like energon, which Thunderclash and his men had been putting to use.

Despite the Predators hunting them relentlessly, the Autobots had managed to scrap together a distress beacon. Once it had been assembled, it had been carefully placed and activated. The Predators arrived less than a breem after its activation, hunting for the Autobots, but to no avail. The Autobots were long gone. However, the Predators had not bothered to destroy the beacon for one simple reason. It would attract more Autobots. An ambush. That was what Thunderclash had banked on when he had ordered its assembly. That Skyquake would want to take as many Autobots as he could with one fell swoop. When the other Autobots arrived, Thunderclash and his Autobots would have to meet with them to warn them about the oncoming danger.

The distress beacon had been a final gambit from Thunderclash. They couldn't sit around on Clemency forever in this stalemate. His hand had been forced. He only hoped that it would not bring about the ruin of the Autobots that responded to the beacon. With a heavy sigh from his vocalizers, Thunderclash turned his gaze from the viewport, which looked out onto the field of corpses, and to the interior of the Decepticon Worldsweeper that served as their temporary base of operations.

It was one of the P-6 model Worldsweepers, which meant that it was one of the so called symbol ships. The shape of the ship perfectly matched the Decepticon insignia. The vanity of the Decepticons seemed to have no end. The interior of the ship was dark, the lights either shattered or shut down to conserve power. The ship had only retained enough energon to keep the life-support systems active. Several holes punctured the hull of the ship, areas which were skirted by the Autobots to avoid visual contact with the outside, should any Decepticon patrols be in the area.

Thunderclash made his way down one of the corridors, brushing dangling wiring from his frame as he entered a room illuminated only by the glow of CR chambers and optics. Autobots milled about, tending to the wounded or otherwise occupied with their own tasks. Supplies lay strewn across examination slabs set against the walls organized in stacks. Thunderclash turned toward one of the smaller Autobots consumed with his own task, and knelt down beside him, resting an actuator on the smaller mech's shoulder.

"Bumper, I need a status update on the beacon. Is it still functional?" Thunderclash asked for what was the umpteenth time, "Are there any signs of reinforcements yet?"

Before the little Autobot could answer him, Thunderclash turned his head to look at the familiar silhouette of Road Rage. "And Road Rage, how are the injured?" The same questions repeated again and again. They were marooned on this planet in a sort of stasis. Something that Thunderclash would give anything to change or somehow turn things in their favor. Anything to make the hunter's moon looming above their heads to fade away into a new dawn.

Clemency - Decepticon Worldsweeper Remains

Bumper had been studying communications equipment for megacycles before his stationing on the Eight-Track. That meant he was the most familiar of all the Autobots with things like radios, receivers, signal bafflers...and distress beacons.

No pressure, right?

Actually, Bumper was dealing with it quite well. He'd doublechecked the energy feed, re-calibrated the frequency scrambler every few cycles, and he went ahead and polished the casing while he was waiting on an interior stability test analysis to finish on his datapad. Seriously, there was nothing else to do, and he'd found like nine canisters of polish when they were scrounging for supplies. Why would they possibly need that much polish...? No matter; some techno-sects out in the Alrnnno Sector actually believed that devices that were cleaned and mode more aesthetically pleasing would inherently function better. Totally what they believed, no lie! It seemed like a silly thing to Bumper...buuuut why not err on the side of caution.

perwip! perwip!
Bumper's visor mounted relay chirped in synchronicity with the beacon as Thunderclash spoke: "Bumper, I need a status update on the beacon. Is it still functional? Are there any signs of reinforcements yet?"

He'd been asking a lot, but could Bumper blame him? He was every bit as nervous as anyone else. The small white Autobot knew the answer to both questions, but still doublechecked before responding. This was important enough to be sure of being sure.

Bumper tapped the side of his head, bringing up all the information he currently had available from the beacon, the Comm Relays still working in the system, and the TROs from the Worldsweepers' remains "Beacon is operating at full range and signal strength, boss. No response yet, and friendly in-system movement is a negative." While the news wasn't good, it also importantly wasn't bad in Bumper's estimation, and he gave Thunderclash and Road Rage the largest smile he could muster.

Clemency Orbit - Decepticon Flagship Nemesis - Bridge

Clemency... So this is where Thunderclash and his Turbomaster underlings wished spend their final moments. There attempts to flee are pointless, they are only prolonging their deaths even further. Still, the thrill of the hunt is a satisfactory feeling, one Skyquake could not wait to dine upon once he and his crew had located the Autobots.

"Stalker," The Predator commander said after breaking his prolonged silence, "Have you relocated the source of that homing beacon?" He sat in the command chair of the flagship and gazed out upon the surface of the planet that shined bright in the viewscreen of the bridge. A restless actuator tapped at one of the arms of the chair, just outside the reach of any important control systems he might possibly hit. His emerald optics squinted as he awaited a response from his communications officer, not breaking focus with the planet ahead of him.

Don't think I won't find you Thunderclash... I know you and your Autobot lackies are down there... I can practically feel your presence...

Skyquake maintained his thousand-yard-stare on Clemency's horizon, contemplating how to handle his next approach at hunting down his long-tome rival.

"Falcon, take Talon and ready a hunting party. Once we have locked onto their location we shall depart for the surface. Snare, continue scanning the planet for Thunderclash and his team. They won't be escaping from us again... Skydive, maintain our current velocity and bring us into the atmosphere."

Skyquake leaned forward in his chair and tented his actuator tips together, bring his mouthplate against the edges of his fingertips. Thunderclash was no fool, there's something else he's playing at here... But whatever it is, he won't get the chance to fulfill his task, not with the Nemesis and its crew soon to be closing in on their trail.

Your cycles of running are coming to an end Autobots... It's time for the Predators to hunt their prey.

Decepticon Flagship Nemesis- Bridge

-

"Stalker, have you relocated the source of the homing beacon?"

Skyquake demanded the best from his subordinates. He demanded they lived up to the standard of an elite unit. Stalker was never eager to report he'd failed.

"Negative, Commander," Stalker answered, still scanning from his comm station. "There's still a number of radio waves and transponder signals emanating from the planet's surface. Even the dead are not silent..."

Stalker continued to scan, dismissing old hails and repeating messages. There were transmissions everywhere, and the expected interference from the planet's magnetosphere. Stalker continued his scan.

"Beacon is-"

"Wait," Stalker requested of Skyquake, carefully holding the frequency he'd picked up.

"-signal strength-"

Stalker listened. There was static. Gaps in the transmission. The vocal effects were distorted and he didn't recognize the voice.

"-friendly."

The frequency didn't match that of the Eight Track. It was undoubtedly a short range signal, likely from the planet's surface. But it wasn't a Decepticon code, and the diction of the words indicated the statement was made on the fly by a single speaker. The distortion was not the sound of battle, further confirming Stalker's suspicion it was not a repeating communication.

"Commander, I have something. Isolating..." Stalker drew up topographical schematics of the planet's surface, comparing them to the frequency.

"I don't have it exactly, but I am picking up a likely source of the Autobots' signal," Stalker explained. "I should be able to narrow the search. Suggest we move out of geosynchronous orbit and re-position over this continent." He pointed to one of the land masses on his schematics. "If the Autobots keep talking to each other I'll be able to decipher more precise coordinates."

Sometimes, mitigating one's failure was enough a sign of competence to appease one's master.

Clemency - Decepticon Worldsweeper Remains

Road Rage was not a medic, not by any means, and she never before pretended to be. Unfortunately, the current situation she and her comrades found themselves in meant that the crimson femme needed to take on a role she was not accustomed to. In the past Road Rage had been a bodyguard and advisor to some of the top diplomats within the old Cybertronian government. Of course, that had been a very long time ago before the Decepticon uprising had destroyed everything she was charged with protecting. Megatron and his cohorts had assassinated every member of the senate and while corruption ran rampant amongst the politicians, most did not deserve the fate of death bestowed upon them. Others, however, would disagree. Regardless, there were better ways to bring about reform. Violence and murder was not the answer. It was merely the easy way to exact change.

As if the ‘Cons are a better alternative to what we had, Road Rage scoffed at the idea while placing another of the injured into a working CR chamber. Entering a few commands on the control console, the unit hummed to life, the internal compartment filling with the nanite rich fluid that would bring her comrade back to full operating status. At least, she hoped it would. Peace through tyranny is no better than the corrupt politicians I used to safeguard. The crimson femme’s thoughts continued virtually unabated. It still angered her what had happened. She would never admit it openly, but the former bodyguard had always harbored some guilt regarding the senators’ demise. She felt as though she had failed them somehow, but in reality there had been nothing more she could have done. She only wished she had been able to change some of the corrupted politicians’ minds before things got so out of hand. Road Rage had offered her advice to whomever would listen, but it had done little good and now it was too late.

Road Rage’s days as a bodyguard and advisor were long over. Now, she mainly served as a ground and air combatant and she was rather good at both jobs. Of course, there was the one minor flaw in her car mode’s navigational system that turned her into a raving lunatic while on the roadway, but no one’s perfect. It was a glitch that nobody had been able to fix as of yet. Even the almighty and grumpy Ratchet had never been able to figure it out. Apparently, there was no easy solution, but at least Thunderclash understood her problem and allowed her some leeway when she was in her vehicle form. Thankfully, her flight mode didn’t suffer from the same malfunction as traversing the skies utilized a different kind of navigation than driving on the ground. Robot mode was also free of any glitches, making her a kind and friendly soul to be around the vast majority of the time.

The crimson femme was then awakened from her inner musings by the sound of her commanding officer's vocals. Road Rage had not even noticed when Thunderclash entered into the make-shift med bay, but she did hear his question to her regarding the status of the injured. Turning to face him, the former bodyguard let out a gentle sigh. “Commander Thunderclash, I have done what I can with what I’ve got. It would be much easier if it wasn’t so dark in here, but I also understand that we need to conserve energon. I’ve placed those with the worst injuries into the CR chambers. Their vitals are stable for the time being just as long as whatever power we have holds out. Any disruption to the CR cycles could prove detrimental to their sparks or the other trinity organs. It will take time, but everyone should pull through. As for the rest with only minor injuries, they’ll all be fine. Some have already been patched up and the rest will be very soon, sir.”

Kol System--The Avant Garde

With every step Elita-1's pace quickened. Every time it seemed like they had something, they lost it again, or it turned out to be nothing. It was frustrating, but experience had taught her not to let up. The one time she ignored a credible lead would be the one time that they actually had found something worth hunting. The last credible shred of intelligence they had received indicated that the Nemesis might be in the Kol system, but the trail had quickly gone dark almost as soon as they had crossed its acknowledged boundaries. Elita had been content to let their ship assume a much lighter cruising trajectory for a while and see if anything new developed, rather than rocketing toward their next destination full-speed-ahead. It was a gambit that hopefully paid off, as their fuel reserves would not last forever.

The buzz on her comm had come only a few astroseconds ago, alerting her that she was needed on the bridge. Meditating quietly in her quarters, she had been only too ready to respond.

She and her group had always been given unique assignments by Prowl, trusting in their intelligence and competence to get the work done. Their latest mission had been a little more obscure than she had liked, but perhaps that was why it had piqued her curiosity all the more. If Autobot Command was not going to tell her specifically what they were hunting aboard the notorious Decepticon flagship, Elita was determined to find out for herself. A pox on Prowl and his secrets. She would just have to pry them open herself.

As the bridge doors slid out of the way and allowed its captain entry, Elita-1 smiled and nodded at her bridge crew and she walked toward her chair.

"Tell me you've got something good."

Kol System - The Avante Garde

Chromia sat at her place on the bridge, manning the communications station for the sheer reason of...well. No one else was doing it. Plus, she had wanted to be certain when she had called Elita-1 to the bridge. And she definitely was sure of it now. Pretty sure. She was no Blaster, but she knew enough to recognize one of these when she saw them.

As the doors to the bridge hissed open behind her, Chromia leaned back in her chair and craned her head around to see their illustrious captain enter the bridge. A huge grin plastered itself across Chromia's faceplate as she tented her fingers.

"Tell me you've got something good."

"Well, it's good...and bad," Chromia began, "Our scanners have detected a distress signal originating from the planet Clemency. You know the one. There were quite a few battles over it a couple vorns back."

Chromia swiveled in her seat to look at her commander more directly. "It could be nothing...just some leftover static...or it could be something. Someone that needs some help. And if someone needs help...it could...attract attention. Maybe the attention of the Nemesis. I say it's worth checking out, but it's up to you, Elita."

Kol System--The Avante Garde

No sooner was Elita-1 pensively in her captain's chair than she had brought up a pair of holoscreens so that she could begin going through information about the Kol system that she had been digging into earlier when they received the intelligence regarding this system as being a possibility for the Nemesis' whereabouts.

"Well, it's good...and bad. Our scanners have detected a distress signal originating from the planet Clemency. You know the one. There were quite a few battles over it a couple vorns back."

Elita's body grew a little more rigid at the information that Chromia had picked up was that of a distress signal. That could mean anything really, from Autobots currently in distress to Autobots that had long since been destroyed leaving only their signal broadcasting in complete futility for aid that would come too late. Elita had to hope that the latter case was not in effect here.

The planet itself did bring back memories. Early in the war Megatron had tried to activate something called the Nightmare Engine on this world. They had failed, but at the cost of many Autobot lives. The horror stories that arose in the vorns since regarding this planet would make a proto go into stasis. It had been a regularly contested battlefront in the war. It was no surprise to her that it seemed destined to continue on that path.

"It could be nothing...just some leftover static...or it could be something. Someone that needs some help. And if someone needs help...it could...attract attention. Maybe the attention of the Nemesis. I say it's worth checking out, but it's up to you, Elita."

Elita-1 smiled and nodded at her executive officer. They thought a lot alike when it came to situations like this. When it came to most situations really.

"If it's nothing, we won't be any worse off than we are now. Just a little lighter in fuel. Hopefully we'll find a few lives to save. If nothing else, maybe we can scavenge what the boys have destroyed."

Elita-1 continued to poke through various screens, swiping away one and bringing up another.

"Like you said, we can hope that distress signal caught the attention of more than just us," Elita said with a knowing smirk. "Full speed."

Nemesis - Bridge

Glaring down at the surface of Clemency, Falcon drummed his fingers against the console at his station on the bridge. Somewhere....somewhere down there were the Turbomasters. Hiding like little...fleshling...things. How it suited those most despised Autobots. It was only a matter of time before the Predators found them...and then, oh, then! They would...do...what Skyquake wanted with them. Falcon tilted his head so that he could view their commander.

Falcon...would probably obliterate them in an instant given the chance, but Skyquake might find a better use for them. If there were any use for Turbomasters. He doubted it, but you never knew. At least if Skyquake asked his opinion, he knew what it would be. Not that he ever did. Probably for the best.

"Falcon, take Talon and ready a hunting party. Once we have locked onto their location we shall depart for the surface."

Oh look. Orders. Better than sitting here and staring at the Clemency. Much better actually. Although he supposed that he should probably ask the commander to specify. Again. As much as he would like to stretch orders to enable him to kill an Autobot or ten, it paid to be prudent with Skyquake.

Shooting up to his feet, Falcon whirled about and snapped off a sharp salute at Skyquake before walking over to where Talon was sitting and yanking back on his collar. "C'mon. Let's get moving, Talon," Falcon said before making his way toward the door. Glancing back to Skyquake as he sent a nonverbal order for a contingent of genericons with aerial alternate modes to meet them in the hangar, Falcon paused and looked back at Skyquake.

"If we do happen to find them...you want them captured alive, right sir?"


Kol System - The Avante Garde

"Like you said, we can hope that distress signal caught the attention of more than just us," Elita said with a knowing smirk. "Full speed."

With a wide grin on her faceplate, Chromia spun back around in her chair and fired up the thrusters to maximum throttle. They were away! Ah, Chromia could not wait! Clemency was the site where the Autobots had fought against the Decepticons' activation of some contraption called the Nightmare Engine. Many Autobot lives had been lost that day. Too many if Chromia was to be honest with herself, but something about a battlefield, even one millions of years old, stirred something within her.

A great respect for the fallen perhaps. Perhaps she sought the thrill of battle herself. The rush of being on the front lines...carving her way through swathes of Decepticon forces...Instead of being stuck on the outskirts of the galaxy. On a secret mission. From Prowl. If it had been Optimus, that would have been just fine, but Prowl? Whenever she was so much in the same room as that slagger, she wanted to sock him on right in his self-righteous little faceplate. The prick bot.

Still...Prowl had been invaluable to the war effort...his strategies had saved countless Autobot lives...Ghhnn...Just thinking about Prowl could give her conniption. Mostly, Chromia was just a touch sore about being sent on what seemed like a wild goose chase. The Nemesis had proved quite elusive so far. And even if they did find it, getting on and off of it was not going to be any small feat. Prowl and his secrets...This had better be worth their time.

The blue executive officer drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair impatiently. She glanced back at Elita-1. "So say the distress signal did catch the attention of more than just us," she began, "What's the plan if it's a trap?"

Chromia approached this situation like any other. They were fighting a war. It could be, in all likelihood, a trap to draw out an Autobots in the sector. Chromia was nothing if not a keen military mind, if she stuck a little close to the book and her own experiences.

Clemency - Decepticon Worldsweeper Remains

"Beacon is operating at full range and signal strength, boss. No response yet, and friendly in-system movement is a negative."

Thunderclash returned Bumper's bright smile with a reassuring version of his own. He kept his disquiet to himself. These Autobots here were depending on him to get them out of here. He had given thought to scavenging on of the wrecks here and using it to get off world, but the ships left here were either too large to power with any modicum of hope of escaping the Nemesis in flight, or too small to carry their numbers even as diminished as they were.

"Let me know the moment anything changes, Bumper," Thunderclash finally said.

Rising to his full stature, Thunderclash turned as Road Rage let out a gentle sigh. Morale too was a cause for worry, and Thunderclash could not allow it to falter if they were to continue to evade capture.

“Commander Thunderclash, I have done what I can with what I've got. It would be much easier if it wasn't so dark in here, but I also understand that we need to conserve energon. I've placed those with the worst injuries into the CR chambers. Their vitals are stable for the time being just as long as whatever power we have holds out. Any disruption to the CR cycles could prove detrimental to their sparks or the other trinity organs. It will take time, but everyone should pull through. As for the rest with only minor injuries, they’ll all be fine. Some have already been patched up and the rest will be very soon, sir."

Grave circumstances indeed, but Thunderclash had some experience in the medical field. He could and had sped the recovery of some of the some of the more critically injured. Now he would attempt to treat a few more. He had other duties to attend to, of course, and so he had left Road Rage responsible for keeping their vitals stable. Even he had sustained some injuries due to the crash, but he had largely left them unattended. Too many needed him for him to spare a thought to his ultimately minor injuries.

The regional commander moved over to one of the medical berths and cleared it of its supplies and prepared it for operation. He looked up at Road Rage and gestured for her to come over to him. "If the Decepticons find us, we will be forced to move. Before that happens, I need your help in repairing these chaps. They may not survive another escape. Do you think you are up to the task?" Thunderclash asked, giving Road Rage the option to decline if she so wished.

"If so, I need you so reroute power to this medical berth and its life support systems as well as the light above this berth."

Nemesis - Bridge

Snare did his best not to make any derisive noise at his command to continue surveying the surface. His attitude had not been the best since Skyquake and taken over leadership of their unit from Falcon, but so far Snare had managed to keep himself from saying or doing anything particularly stupid. The main problem was that Skyquake somehow always ended up keeping Snare during his duties around the Cons he couldn't stand...which was most of them, admittedly, but still.

Snare huffed a little to himself looking down at his console. The Nemesis may have been the most powerful ship, with the sharpest technology...but looking through the collected data, Snare still felt like a tourist using a viewfinder. He'd have a better idea of the whole situation if he could get his wings over it, really let his visor scan over the area rather than bounce data from some Sensor dish.

He kept his voice level and neutral as flare stood to address Skyquake. The last thing he wanted was for the powerful Con to take offense, but he was going to go crazy up here, "Commander, I think I could get better information planetside, if I could get your leave. I can relay it all directly back to you, but all the wreckage down there is playing havoc on the ship sensors..."

Clemency - Decepticon Worldsweeper Remains

Bumper gave Thunderclash a strong thumbs up at his statement, happy not for the first time that their commander was still in charge of the situation. Bumper turned back to the beacon with a slight waver in his smile, however. From the Eight-Track he'd caught faint signals from several beacons as they'd gone down, and thinking about it now it made perfect sense; Clemency was a graveyard, so surely there were a few distress signals out there that simply...had never been answered. He'd read somewhere that only 41 percent of all distress beacons were actually responded to...

But they weren't going to be in the other 59 percent. Not if he could help it. Reaching for his datapad, Bumper started fluctuating the signal on the beacon. He doublechecked each frequency and scramble code to make sure he was within safe parameters, on lines that Autobots would be searching on, and began altering the signal contents like mad. If anyone was looking for them, it'd look like the beacon was being both manned and used directly as someone spun through the dials trying to get a response. Maybe it was futile...but it was better than polishing the casing of the beacon again.

"I've got an idea I'm gonna try, boss. May not be much, but it might do some good." he said over his shoulder to Thunderclash as he spoke to Road Rage.

Clemency Orbit - Decepticon Flaship Nemesis - Bridge

"Negative, Commander. There's still a number of radio waves and transponder signals emanating from the planet's surface. Even the dead are not silent...Wait...Commander, I have something. Isolating...I don't have it exactly, but I am picking up a likely source of the Autobots' signal. I should be able to narrow the search. Suggest we move out of geosynchronous orbit and re-position over this continent. If the Autobots keep talking to each other I'll be able to decipher more precise coordinates."

"Excellent." Skyquake responded with a subtle hint of satisfaction as he leaned back into his command chair. "Continue your efforts on isolating that signal. I have a strong feeling that that is where our Autobot targets are hiding."

Skyquake finally broke his stare with the planet infront of his field of vision and shifted his gaze over to that of Falcon, who was readying his departure from the bridge. The Predator commander knew full well that Falcon was indeed no Starscream in terms of trying to undermine and reclaim his position as the leader of the group, but there was still a sense of distrust he felt towards the former Predator commander.

"If we do happen to find them...you want them captured alive, right sir?"

The air commandant sat in his chair and pondered the thought. Thunderclash and his crew had caused Skyquake and his team trouble long before this little endeavor to Clemency, the two groups seemed to go at it back and forth for over a million years or so now. Skyquake and Thunderclash had both gotten so close to killing each other off so many times that he couldn't even count them on the actuators of his hands. The idea of killing him off, finishing off this endless game of cybercat and ionmouse, it would be too satisfiying. Skyquake could see himself standing over the charred husk of Thunderclash's lifelife chassis, victorious in every sense of the word. But, like he had remembered earlier, Thunderclash was in no way a fool. Clemency had some sort of importance to him, or at least Skyquake was going to find out if there was any.

"Indeed Falcon." Skyquake coldly replied as he rose from his seat and approached the holographic projections of the planet in front of him. "I want to know more about Thunderclash's intentions... You can use any means to retrieve them, but I want them alive. Now go ready yourselves, I shall join up with you all once we have located where they are have buried themselves in."

"Commander, I think I could get better information planetside, if I could get your leave. I can relay it all directly back to you, but all the wreckage down there is playing havoc on the ship sensors..."

"Negative Snare," the air commandant denied as he walked closer to the holo-projection of Clemency to further examine the detailing Stalker was providing. "The Autobots know we are coming but they know not when we will. For the time being we hold the element of surprise and I do not want to lose that advantage we have over them. For now, we maintain our silence and wait for our chance to pounce. Once they peek their processors out of their hiding hole, then we shall strike. Now, get back to scanning the planet."

Clemency - Decepticon Worldsweeper Remains

Road Rage listened calmly as Thunderclash addressed her, stating plainly that he needed her assistance in repairing some of these “chaps” as he called them. The Regional Commander was correct. The gravely injured would not likely survive another move if the Decepticons found them before the CR chambers finished their work. Thunderclash then asked the crimson femme if she was up to the task before telling her what he needed done in order to expedite the repair process.

“Of course I am, sir,” Road Rage respectfully replied, giving Thunderclash a curt nod as she immediately moved to the medical berth her commander had just indicated. “I’ll have power re-routed in a jiffy, sir!” The former bodyguard promptly knelt down at the base of the berth and pried open an access panel. She reached inside and pulled out some loose wiring, making the appropriate splices and reconnections where needed. Road Rage then noticed that the primary power coupling was cracked. With no replacement readily available, the crimson femme withdrew her right hand into her forearm as a soldering tool appeared in its place. Swiftly she went to work until the crack had been sealed sufficiently. It had taken some time, but once that was done she replaced the access panel and stood back up, her right hand returning to its proper position.

“Well, that should about do it,” Road Rage said as she pressed the power button on the side of the medical berth. The unit hummed to life as readouts began appearing on the small display screen attached to the side. “Eureka! It works and the life support systems also appear to be functioning properly! Now, all we need is a light that actually illuminates our med berth!” The former advisor flashed a smile in Thunderclash’s direction before hoisting herself up on top of the berth. Remaining in a kneeling position, Road Rage removed the overhead light’s covering and found that the wiring had been severed here as well. “You know I have to wonder if the ‘Cons really kept up on the maintenance of these ships or if all this damage and wear was actually done during the crash.”

The crimson femme’s musing was spoken aloud, but she didn’t really expect anyone to respond. Once the wires were spliced back together in a crude but effective manner, the light came on and bathed Road Rage’s optics in a brilliant glow. “Whoa! That was bright!” The former bodyguard exclaimed as she covered her optics with one hand and replaced the covering with the other. Climbing down off of the med berth, Road Rage stood at attention before Thunderclash. “All done as ordered, sir. Sorry it took so long. I worked as fast as I could.” Truth be told, it had only taken a little less than a breem to jury rig the med berth so it could handle a patient. Hopefully, it would be good enough as some of the injured were in serious to critical condition.

Kol System--The Avante Garde

Elita-1 smirked as Chromia set herself to her duties with her typical zeal. She was just as ready to find their quarry as Elita herself. And the pink, red and white femme had no doubt they would given their mutual persistence.

"So say the distress signal did catch the attention of more than just us. What's the plan if it's a trap?"

Elita's optics blinked in thoughtful contemplation. There was always the very real possibility that anything they encountered in this universe was a trap of one kind or another. But Elita did not allow that thinking to consume her mind. Down that path, well, she'd be Red Alert, wouldn't she? But it was a practical consideration.

"We can only hope we're that lucky," Elita began, leaning back in her chair as she continued to peruse through the holoscreens. "The plan's the same as if we found the Nemesis by sheer dumb luck--we get on board that monster and get what we're looking for."

Elita's grin grew a little more noticeable.

"The same way you got us on the Primal Wrath. In the meantime, let's see if we can get a signal back to whoever's calling for help. They might appreciate knowing help is finally on the way."

And maybe if anyone else is listening, they'll go ahead and pick it up, too.

Kol System - The Avante Garde

"We start broadcasting back, and it may as well be a trap."

The dour voice coming from behind Elita-1 and addressing the squad commander was unmistakable. Lancer trudged onto the bridge with her typical tact and manner. She made it up to the side of Elita's chair and stopped next to her leader, judging the incoming data that Chromia was looking at with her hands on her hips.

"Clemency is a tomb, but it's a Decepticon Tomb. We start broadcasting back and-if there's anything left down there that isn't Autobot-it's gonna know we're on our way. What could be a faulty beacon could turn into a bad day for us in a half-click."

Lancer narrowed her eyes at the incoming information, like it would go away and stop bothering her if she scowled at it long enough.

---

Clemency Orbit - Decepticon Flaship Nemesis - Bridge

Snare didn't argue further with Skyquake, though there were nearly a dozen valid arguments he could think of off the top of his head. He glanced back at his console and (surprise surprise) all that he could pick up were the rolling and overlapping ferromagnetic signatures of the massive graveyards and rolling mineral rich mountains. Snare couldn't restrain a sigh as he flipped through Scanning filters, more in an effort to stave off boredom than anything else.

He turned to Falcon, giving him a small nod. He didn't dare salute the former commander. Not in front of Skyquake. And he didn't offer one of his few friends a, "hey, be careful out there". Stalker would've never let him hear the end of it if he did. He just hoped catching the more senior Predators optic and giving him a small acknowledgement was enough.

Nemesis - Bridge

Like many others in the ship, Talon was eagerly awaiting finding the Turbomasters but for him there was nothing personal about it. He had not been in a good scrap in a while and he was already very bored. He laughed when Skyquake gave them their orders. He was finally going to get the fight he wanted.

"Aw right, Falcon, lets go scrap em!" He replied and followed him. When Skyquake mentioned he wanted the Turbomasters alive he looked at him as if he was speaking a different language. He was not quite sure on how to go about that but eventually just shrugged.

"Falcon'll figure it out." He thought.

Clemency - Decepticon Worldsweeper Remains

Thunderclash chuckled a bit at Road Rage's formality. Surely, it was a byproduct of her earlier work, but many a time had the regional commander attempted to dissuade the crimson femme from referring to him by honorifics or other such titles to little avail. "Excellent work, Road Rage. And you know you do not need to be so formal with me," Thunderclash added before glancing over to Bumper as he spoke, giving the little communications officer a nod and a wave.

Composing his faceplate into a more serious expression, Thunderclash moved over to the first of the injured in the CR pods and removed the Autobot, quickly transferring him to the newly activated berth via hover stretcher. The Autobot regional commander drew out the laser scalpel attached to the berth and began his work, connecting circuits and repairing the more mortal wounds. In the end, it was more of a patch job than what Thunderclash would have liked, but they did not have the time or resources to repair every Autobot fully. With speed that might have put even Ratchet to shame, Thunderclash finished his work on this particular Autobot and moved his patient back into the CR chamber to recover further.

Thunderclash merely moved to the next Autobot in the CR chambers afterwards, working his way down the line swiftly and steadily. With his hands covered in the energon of his patients and stuck in their innards as they reassembled them, Thunderclash supposed it would not be a bad practice to try to relieve some of the tension still looming over them with some idle conversation.

"Road Rage, you used to be an adviser, did you not? What would you suggest our next course of action be?" Thunderclash asked, more out of curiosity than anything else, but perhaps a new insight into matters could help. "Ruptured fuel pump..." Thunderclash muttered, considering the Autobot prostrate before him. "Cut the flow of energon...allow the life support system to sustain the spark...There," Thunderclash let out a soft sigh as he sealed the breach and examined the body for any other life-threatening wounds.

With none found he moved to the last Autobot in the CR chambers and began his work anew. One look at this one and Thunderclash knew that they would have to make another supply run for the necessary parts. The transformation cog had been perforated by gunfire as had other equally crucial components. "Road Rage, would you mind fetching a T-cog from one of the Decepticon bodies around?"


Kol System - The Avante Garde

"We can only hope we're that lucky. The plan's the same as if we found the Nemesis by sheer dumb luck--we get on board that monster and get what we're looking for."

Chromia merely nodded in agreement. Made sense to her. It would be more interesting this way anyway. A daring rescue or a fiendish trap! Made no difference. Both would have the same basic plan of trying to find the Nemesis or have it find them.

"The same way you got us on the Primal Wrath. In the meantime, let's see if we can get a signal back to whoever's calling for help. They might appreciate knowing help is finally on the way."

Elita's first little quip elicited a chuckle from the blue femme, remembering that day fondly. She had the sudden inclination to launch into a reminiscent speech about it, but quashed the urge. Elita had lived it. Plus, those bots on the ground would appreciate knowing help was on the way sooner than later. Chromia prepared to send out an answering signal when Lancer made her very orange presence felt on the bridge.

"Clemency is a tomb, but it's a Decepticon Tomb. We start broadcasting back and-if there's anything left down there that isn't Autobot-it's gonna know we're on our way. What could be a faulty beacon could turn into a bad day for us in a half-click."

"That's the point, Lancer. Even if it's nothing, sending a signal back might attract the attention of our quarry. We'll just go from there in that case. I mean, what else are you supposed to do when you're sent out on a secret mission to get onto the fraggin' Decepticon flagship. By Prima's left heel strut, I swear Prowl sends us out on the most consarned missions, I'll tell you-"

Chromia hastily cut off from her rant about the Autobot's one and only king of the prickbots when new information popped up on her viewscreen. "The beacon...is...fluctuating. That might mean someone down there is actively adjusting its frequency! Sending out a response now." Chromia dialed the command into the console and sent an answering signal back out onto the beacon.

"Let's hope they got it..."


Nemesis - Bridge

When Snare's request to go planetside got turned down, Falcon was tempted to intervene on Snare's behalf, but the former leader of the Predators preferred to give their new leader as strong of support as he could. It would not do to have the others second guessing Skyquake's orders merely because he had tried to give his counsel to their leader. No. That would simply not do. So instead, Falcon looked at Snare, catching the nod that his teammate sent him, and nodding in acknowledgement.

With a sharp salute to Skyquake as Talon joined him, Falcon exited the bridge and made his way with haste to the hangar. Skyquake had requested capture. That would be difficult. Especially with just Talon along. Falcon looked at Talon as they walked.

"Talon, if we find the Autobots, I want you to bomb the slag out of them. Just make sure that when they're blown into bits, those bits are big enough to be reassembled. That's all you need to do," Falcon stated simply.

The tactician knew that Talon would be suitably pleased with this role, and pushed through the doors into the hangar. A small contingent of Vehicons with flight capable alternate modes awaited them there. Falcon looked over to Talon once more. "You take point. We'll try some bombing runs to flush the Autobots out of hiding. Basic V formation."

Avante Garde - Bridge

A thin synthetic fiber bristled brush sank into a small canister that was held in position at the edge of the tactical control board near the direct aft of the bridge. It twirled around ever so slightly in a counter clockwise motion. A shadow slowly leaned forward to drown the small canister as slender fingers adjusted the reflective surface just beyond.

Full metallic lips pursed as they loomed close to the reflective surface of the polished metal. The brush was pulled from the canister, the excess pigment carefully pulled off along its serrated edges before brought to bear. The lips separated ever so slightly as the synthetic bristles began their intended task.

Flareup remained quiet in her own personal corner of the bridge, a mirror propped against the bulkhead just beyond the tactical station that had been her due ever since she had been reassigned to the primary demolitions front. While not her primary assignment, only serving during the Beta or Gamma watches, it gave her an opportunity to better hone her planning and tactical abilities... most of the time when she wasn't distracted by her playful hobbies.

She pressed her lips together again as she dipped her brush back into the canister filled with crimson hued pigment. She pulled it again and proceeded to dry off the excess once again before she returned her vision to the reflective mirror. Each stroke of the brush came with a playful tension easing giggle... each dip of the brush was followed by a mischievous chuckle.

It was enough to gather attention from those who were around her station, or at least those who had not truly gotten to know her rather unique personality. Another giggle and another chuckle soon indicated she was nearing the end of her task. She flipped her brush once in her fingers before she unleashed a satisfying laugh.... "THERE!" She exclaimed with an unseen smile, "ITS FINISHED!!!"

Her exclamation would most likely illicit requests for clarification, Flareup simply giggled and tapped her feet playfully at the base of her chair. She picked up the brush that had clattered at the edge of her canister and dipped it once more into the crimson pigment. One more unseen motion of her arms sent a whip of red paint spraying against the wall towards her right. The brush was immediately placed on a towel at the base of the canister and she spun around.

In her lap was a large Tetra Buster Bomb, one of her favorite devices. She pawed at the edges and top of the inactive explosive carefully, ensuring that no damage or flaw was present. Beneath her chin was a simple message written in crimson pigment. 'To Skyquake... with Love, Flareup.'

Decepticon Flagship Nemesis- Bridge

Stalker continued his attempts. The Autobots had given no new communications. He was no closer to finding their position or the beacon both factions were after. Soon, he'd have to give Skyquake a status update, and he didn't want to disappoint his demanding master.

He widened the search area, just in case there was an error in the holographic schematics of the planet or in his own calculations... and his salvation arrived.

A second comm signal bounced off the continent. And into... space? Stalker tried to track it, but the signal grew progressively weaker once outside the planet's atmosphere.

"Commander, I'm detecting a second Autobot signal," Stalker reported. "I've got a closer lock on the beacon.

"But we have a problem," Stalker continued. "This signal isn't emanating from the planet. The Autobots have air support; possibly a ship in orbit."

Stalker widened the holographic display of the planet and set to work. He input a program from his terminal and added a visual aid to his report.

"This is the general vicinity where I spotted the first Autobot comm signal," Stalker continued, pointing at a search area encompassing roughly 300 kilometers of the continent. "And this-" he displayed an ascending line from outside the search area up out of the holographic atmosphere, "-is the second signal."

Stalker examined the distance between the two points. "I'd suggest we move our strike force here," he pointed to an area equidistant from the search area and the second signal. "before the two Autobot forces reach any rendezvous point. I'd also recommend we hold our current orbit and see if there's any other Autobot ship... but if we want to stay truly hidden, we'll have to cut our own comms, or any Autobot with half a brain will be able to spot either the Nemesis or Falcon and his team."

Stalker knew it complicated matters, but at least he had something to add... and if there was ship-to-ship combat on the horizon, he might get to kill a few Autobots after all.

Clemency Orbit - Decepticon Flaship Nemesis - Bridge

Skyquake's amber optics narrowed to thin slits of light as Stalker delivered his latest report on his progress on tracking the Autobot signal.

"This is the general vicinity where I spotted the first Autobot comm signal," Stalker continued, pointing at a search area encompassing roughly 300 kilometers of the continent. "And this-" he displayed an ascending line from outside the search area up out of the holographic atmosphere, "-is the second signal."

"So... He is planning some sort of escape..."

"I'd suggest we move our strike force here," he pointed to an area equidistant from the search area and the second signal. "before the two Autobot forces reach any rendezvous point. I'd also recommend we hold our current orbit and see if there's any other Autobot ship... but if we want to stay truly hidden, we'll have to cut our own comms, or any Autobot with half a brain will be able to spot either the Nemesis or Falcon and his team."

Stalker made an interesting point, but Skyquake could not see past the plan he was already envisioning in his processor. He rose from his command chair and stared at holographic projection Stalker and his terminal were providing.

"Cut them off before they can rendezvous." The Predator commander muttered aloud, "Yesss. Once we have the Turbomasters captured then we can use them to lure in their friends as well. Stalker, maintain your position here and continue tracking the signal. Keep me informed on their location and if there are any changes in their formations. Skydive, you have the helm. Bring the ship down into the atmosphere and bring us closer to the coordinates Stalker believes the Autobot signal was last located. Ready all defensive measures we have. This may be a battleship, but I am not willing to sacrifice Megatron's flagship in the event of an ambush. Shields at maximum and weapon systems ready on my mark. Snare, come with me."

Skyquake turned towards the door of the bridge and made his way towards the Nemesis' hangar.

---

Nemesis - Hangar

Skyquake passed through the giant sliding doors into the hangar and found hundreds of ready jet-vehicons and seeker drones ready for combat. Excellent, this hunt for the Thunderclash and his subordinates would be much easier with a ready crew. The Predator commander approached a weapons cache and opened up the container, pulling out spare rockets and loading them into his spare weapon storage caches on his body. He then reached into an ammo cache and pulled several drums of rounds for his minigun and a few spare coolant canisters in the event his weapon overheated.

"Change of plans, here's what we're doing now." Skyquake began as he addressed his troops, "Snare, you will be taking point in the spearhead formation. I want you to use your surveillance expertise to pinpoint any traces of movement or Autobot activity, then inform me when you have a precise fix on their location. Talon, Falcon, you two with be providing cover for the squadron as well as participating in the bombardment of the Autobot camp once it had been located. Any questions?"

The Predator commander hoisted his minigun up and held it tightly in his grip as he looked out upon the many faces under his command. No one seemed to be in disagreement with him, most likely because a vast amount of them knew the consequences of disagreeing with Skyquake's orders.

"No? Excellent! First three squads: Prepare to jump!"

Letting go of the forward grip on his minigun, Skyquake slammed on the controls to the main hangar bay doors. The heavy latched doors hissed open as the Clemency airspace greeted the sights of the Decepticons all inside. The once darkened hanger was now lit up with the light of the setting sun off in the western horizon of the planet. Skyquake stood in the massive frame of the hangar door as the Nemesis slowing descended through the cloudy skies of Clemency.

"Let's go glitches! We don't have time to waste!"

Skyquake was the first to leap from the hangar doors, in hopes his actions would inspire his subordinates to follow after his lead. As he began his free fall towards the surface, he magna-locked his minigun onto his back before somersaulting into his Bomber jet mode. The hulking green mass of an alt mode continued to free fall until Skyquake ignited his engines and transcended back up to a higher cruising speed.

>>"Stalker, upload the coordinates of the Autobot's last known vicinity to my HUD then scramble their communications."<<

Nemesis - Hangar

Falcon's words were reduced in Talon's mind to simply "You get to shoot stuff" which pleased him somewhat. Shooting some stupid Autobot with a missile was fun but not nearly as much as crushing one with his bare hands.

"Ok! I still don't get this "letting them live" thing but I do my best." He said then looked towards Skyquake as he entered and altered the orders someone. Talon look confused for a long moment then turned back to Falcon.

"Uhm.... so... what we do now?"

Kol System--The Avante Garde--Bridge

Yup, Elita thought at Lancer's initial misgivings. In other circumstances she might have agreed and called off the broadcast. But in this case Elita was not only hoping that there was something else waiting for them besides stranded Autobots, she was hoping they would also try to spring something on them. After having gone so long without a trace of anything, they all needed the release that this mission would bring.

Fortunately Chromia had the right of it and proceeded with the return signal. Hopefully something would respond back. Either way, they were going to check out the source of the signal and see where, if anywhere, it might lead them next.

"Let's hope they got it..."

"We'll know soon enough," Elita said calmly. She returned to her perusings, content to occupy her mind with information regarding the planet until they had something of greater substance to deal with.

"THERE!"

Elita-1's head suddenly jerked away from the screen and looked around. There what?

"ITS FINISHED!!!"

Elita quickly found Flaereup and saw that she seemed to be a little overly excited at the completion of one of her latest, well, whatever they were that occupied her. It looked.....combustible...to say the least.

"Please don't blow us up, Flareup," Elita said with a smirk.

The Nemesis - Hangar

Snare followed silently behind Skyquake, happy for the moment just being off the damned bridge. Now he had to decide if he was any happier walking towards a nigh-pointless mission to scour a Decepticon Graveyard for a handful of Bots that Snare really didn't care about in the first place. Hmmm...

The internal debate took the entire trip to the hangar, where Snare came to the decision that since he got to fly and, more importantly, fly ahead of the entire rest of the Decepticon force, that the whole situation could be said to have improved dramatically.

When Skyquake gave the order for Snare to fly ahead, Snare saluted the larger Commander without looking at him, and took a jogging start across the hangar. He transformed almost before the heat from the star could really sink into his plates, and rocketed past Skyquake in a near nosedive, pulling out only when he was a good distance from the Nemesis and its crew.

Reluctantly, Snare flipped his comm on. Skyquake received the communication from him...as did Falcon. Snare had never taken him off the command grouping on his comm, and he had told the larger commanding Decepticon that is was usual in his role as surveillance, in case there were any transmission errors to Skyquake directly.

I'm pulling ahead, closing with range of last coordinate upload. Should be within by the time the Predators hit formation.

The Avante-Garde - Bridge

Lancer sighed at the estimation of Elita and Chromia on sending the signal back...but pointedly did not disagree with them. Her manner of agreeing was just less agreeable than most.

She glanced over at Flareup's small victory, and rolled her optics, "Our luck? The things some kinda chronal device and it'll blow up and waste even more of our time on a rescue mission...!" How this whole ordeal had gone from probably trap to important rescue operation was by a process known only to Lancer herself.


Clemency - Decepticon Worldsweeper Remains

After setting as many parameters as he could into the modulation of the signal, Bumper had briefly considered adding another coat of polish to the comm relay he was using that was feeding the signal from the beacon. After all, it looked like they were going to be there for a while, and he may as well pass the-

PERRwip!PERRwip!!

...what?...No. No way...

Bumper went nearly a meter in the air in an undiluted mixture of shock and exuberance when he caught the returning communication from the distress signal. He waved his arm wildly in the near-enough direction of Thunderclash.

"B...boss! Boss!! I...I can't believe it. I...I think we got something! Y-yeah! Hah-haa! It looks like a signal matching our modulation! Someone's actually getting our call! I...I can't believe we got one this quick...!"

Clemency - Decepticon Worldsweeper Remains

Road Rage managed a broad smile when Thunderclash praised her work on getting the medical berth up and running. That smile faded and she cringed slightly when he admonished her for once again being so formal with him. Having been a bodyguard and advisor for some of the top level diplomats in the old Cybertronian government, the crimson femme was used to addressing her superiors in such a formal manner. Yes, Thunderclash had told her before that she didn’t have to be like that around him, but old habits were hard to break even after so many vorns.

“Sorry, sir...” Road Rage replied, quickly catching herself. “....I mean, Thunderclash.” At least she hadn’t called him ‘commander’ again.

Watching as Thunderclash one by one worked on repairing the gravely wounded from the CR chambers, Road Rage couldn’t help but be amazed by his abilities. Even the grumpy old Ratchet would have no choice but be impressed with the regional commander’s skills as a surgeon. Although, the Hatchet would likely not show his admiration and simply grunt as a response. One thing was for certain, Thunderclash had a much better bed side manner. That was something no one could question.

As Thunderclash moved on to his next patient, he decided to partake in some idle small talk, asking the crimson femme what advice she could give regarding their next course of action. Road Rage perked up and looked at her commanding officer as he continued to work, energon covering his hands. “Yes, um, I was an advisor to many diplomats and senators. It was the second function I carried out besides being a bodyguard.” She paused for a moment to consider the second part of Thunderclash’s question. “As for what we should do now, well, the most important thing I could advise is to try and keep morale up as much as possible. The situation we find ourselves in is grim and there are many injured not to mention those we have already lost. Morale, in my opinion, is just as important as having fully functioning mechs and weapons. Without morale, the other side has already won.”

Road Rage moved in closer to the med berth as Thunderclash worked tirelessly to patch up the inner workings of his latest patient. “Furthermore, I advise that we move on from here as soon as we are able. The Predators are likely closing in on us as we speak and with the beacon going strong as it is, their task will be made all the easier. It won’t take them long to find us. Short of Autobot reinforcements arriving to help, we should try and find a ‘Con ship that’s still flyable and repair it. After that, we get the slag outta here and don’t look back until we’re able to refuel properly and regroup.”

The former advisor fell silent as Thunderclash began muttering to himself as he finished the repair work on his current patient. He then moved on to the last gravely injured Autobot and immediately turned to ask Road Rage if she wouldn’t mind fetching a transformation cog from one of the dead Decepticons onboard the worldsweeper. “Of course. Right away,” the crimson femme responded, making sure she didn’t tag on the word ‘sir’ to the end of her sentence.

As Road Rage headed for the door to complete the latest task that had been assigned to her, the red femme overheard Bumper becoming overly excited. Apparently, he had received a response to the beacon, one who’s signal modulation matched their own. Turning back to the regional commander, the former bodyguard’s visage remained unchanged. “I would advise caution, Thunderclash. It could be a Decepticon trap designed to make the signal look like it was from an Autobot source. If I’m wrong then perhaps our luck is finally changing for the better.”

Casting a brief smile to her superior, Road Rage then headed out of the make-shift med bay and began looking for a transformation cog that would be suitable for Thunderclash’s last patient.

Decepticon Flagship Nemesis- Bridge

It was illogical. Skyquake wanted to pursue the Autobots before he had their coordinates. He was allowing his hatred of Thunderclash to blind him. He was so concerned with revenge; with whatever perceived loss of face he'd suffered to think his strategy through.

Stalker kept these concerns to himself.

"Yes, Commander," he replied to Skyquake's retreating back.

He'd been left to man the ship... again. Stalker wanted to rush headlong into battle, but for the moment his talents would be better served monitoring from afar. He looked upon the holographic projection of Clemency, the Nemesis's topographical schematics adding detail to the continent. The surface was rough and rocky, and wherever Thunderclash had landed had a multitude of usable cover, ranging from large hills to the hull and debris of long abandoned ships. Skyquake may well have known where Thunderclash and his team were heading, but he didn't know where they were. And ship-to-ground communications would only increase the odds of the Autobots detecting the Predators before they found their prey.

Stalker re-examined the communications he'd intercepted. The Autobots were after some sort of beacon. Reinforcements? Communications array? Long abandoned ammo dump? An additional prize, but also an unknown variable. Something outside his control.


>>"Stalker, upload the coordinates of the Autobot's last known vicinity to my HUD then scramble their communications."<<

Skyquake now asked him to reveal their presence to the Autobots plain as day. His particular invention -the "Garble" system- left distinct static meant to mimic energon radiation causing natural interference. The only energon on the planet was in fuel tanks or in the chassis of the dead.

So instead, Stalker got creative. He tuned his own communications dish with the Nemesis and its systems, and began to send erratic radio waves into the planet's upper atmosphere, gradually dispersing throughout the magnetosphere. The planet's magnetic field started to weaken from the increased pressure... and then compensated, forming large spikes above the continent between the two Autobot signal positions.

He followed this by taking on one of the Nemesis's plasma cannons and firing it into the already damaged magnetosphere, further hastening the magnetosphere's deterioration and erratic spikes.

If he'd done his job right, the Autobots would think they were being hit by a geomagnetic storm; victims of a sudden abundance of solar wind hitting Clemency. For the Decepticons, it'd leave one isolated pocket of the continent where there own communications would be unavailable... but while still in the atmosphere, only the Predators would be talking to each other.

Stalker relayed the most recent coordinates he could to Skyquake and monitored the ever-changing magnetic fields.