Nightraid sighed, propping her chin on her servos as she stared blankly out of the Xanthium's front window. Her blue optics swept across the dull view before returning to the equally boring screen in front of her.

Being the bot in charge of communication sucked. Nothing ever ever happened. More often than not, Nightraid wandered around the large Autobot ship with one of the others on board, as they had nothing to do either.

Except the Wreckers, because they were driving the damned thing.

Nightraid's optics flickered upwards when the sound of someone stopping beside her registered to her audio receptors.

"You're looking a little bored, Nightraid. I'm getting some Energon; do you want to come?"

"Thanks, Moonracer." The dark purple femme stood, linking the communications screen with her processor just in case. It wasn't like she was going to need it, but Nightraid did it anyway. "I feel like I would've been in recharge before long."

Moonracer chuckled, stepping out of the cockpit and heading down the hall with the younger femme. The turquoise femme opened the door to their Energon storage, and stepped inside with the younger purple femme.

Their optics were met with the sight of Flareup, who was poking her cube of Energon with boredom.

"Hello." The red and orange female glanced up, sighing as she did.

"You got bored too?" Nightraid dropped onto the box next to her.

"Sunny-sitting is boring when he doesn't do anything." Flareup grumbled. "I'm so bored."

"He hasn't been going after Prowl?" Moonracer glanced up from her rummaging though the Mid-Grade.

"Nothing. He's been sitting in the corner of his berth-room." Flareup threw up her arms.

"Better Sunny-sitting than Communications Officer." Nightraid down the Energon passed to her quickly.

"I'll trade you." Flareup grinned, perking up as Nightraid's wings stiffened. Her optics dimmed momentarily before the purple femme was out of the storage room like a rocket. Moonracer and Flareup shared a look before bolting after her in their two-wheeled alt-forms.

"Move!" Nightraid screeched, pushing Prowl to the ground as she darted to her screen in the cockpit.

"Femme, stop yelling. We're concentrating." Leadfoot snapped, slowly sipping some High-Grade with his pedes propped onto the controls. Nightraid glared, nearly tackling her chair in order to get to her controls and her servos flew over the buttons.

Immediately, crackling filled the cockpit as the two other femmes appeared, transforming as they came to a halt.

"...united...history...future...together...Optimus Prime, and I send... message...past will always...remembered...memories...live on...we...here...waiting..."

"Blurr, I need these coordinates. NOW." Nightraid snapped to the blue mech nearly vibrating as he played a game on a data pad.

"SurethingNightraid. I' ." He frowned, spinning around in his chair as the coordinates locked on. "ItcameformasmallplanetinAlph aQ-seven-nine-threedesignationEarth. Doyouwantmetosetourcoursefor there? Huh,doyadoyadoya?!"

"Blurr, slow the frag down. Tell me the coordinates slowly. SLOWLY."

In a normal tone, the hyperactive mech repeated the coordinates. "Alpha Q-seven-nine-three, designation Earth."

"Optimus Prime? Do you think it's actually him?" Flareup frowned, shifting her weight.

"It's the best lead we have." Moonracer lowered herself into her own station, typing in the coordinates Blurr had spouted. Leadfoot and the Wreckers grumbled as they were forced to go back to work and take the ship off Autopilot.

"Oi! Ya nancy wankers!" Topspin shouted over the ship-wide comm. "If ya want ta aft and chassis intact, I suggest ya buckle up. We're openin' a space bridge."

Nightraid grinned, thoughts of her brother surfacing in her processor.

Mirage was bored. His servos tapped a rhythm on the desk set out for communications, where the Autobots could track both the Decepticons and any incoming new Autobots.

His optics tracked some of the squishies wandering around, some holding cans of what they designated 'soda'. To some it gave weird effects where their adrenaline was pumped up, and they called it a sugar-high, and acted like idiots.

One Major Lennox was doing such an activity right now with his friend and subordinate, Fig. The two of them were worse than Ironhide when he got into the High-Grade. Stumbling around with odd looks on their faces, yelling and throwing objects that weren't usually meant for being offensive weaponry. Then again, these squishies were extremely unpredictable.

His attention was drawn away from the two sugar-high mechs to the static fuzzing on his console. It had been silent all day until now.

"Oi! This the Xanthium! Ya hear me, ya nancy wankers! Respond, slag it."

Mirage snorted, doubling over in silent laughter.

"Shut up, Leadfoot! Nobot wants hear ya whinin'!"

"Both of you shut it before I beat you to the Pit with my cannons! I did it once and I'm not afraid to do it again! Get away from my station and back to the controls, you overgrown piles of rust! I would prefer not to crash land and dent my armor, thank you very much! Topspin..."

There was a rather high yelp of pain and the feminine voice that had been scolding the obvious voices of the Wreckers returned.

"Autobot Nightraid speaking. Can anybot hear me?"

"Si! This is Autobot Mirage!" The red mech perked up, pressing the button to respond. "Coordinates?"

"Approaching planet Earth."

"Status report? How many bots on the Xanthium?"

"Hold on a klik."

There was a low muttering.

"WOULD YOU FRAGGING HOLD STILL! I'M TRYING TO COUNT HERE! SUNNY, DON'T TOUCH PROWL'S WINGS!"

Mirage fell to the floor in a bout of laughter, which drew the attention of passing Optimus Prime.

"Mirage...? Are you alright?" The Autobot commander asked, bending slightly to look down at the red mech. In response, he pointed to the screen and rolled over, banging the ground with his fists.

The two sugar-high mechs evacuated the area.

"Thirteen bots, including myself."

"This is Optimus Prime. Autobot Mirage...is having difficulties at this moment. May I ask who I am speaking to?"

"Oh, hey Prime! It's Nightraid!"

If Optimus was human, he would have paled as though he'd seen a ghost.

::Ratchet...We have a problem::

::What now!? Did Sideswipe bust his plating again? I told him I'm not-::

::Nightraid.::

Silence answered him.

"Prime...? Prime...? OPTIMUS?"

::Is it too late to evacuate?::

::Unfortunately::

"OPTIMUS PRIME! ANSWER ME, FRAG IT!"

"Sorry. I had to help Mirage and had my servos full." Prime chuckled nervously.

"Ah. Sorry."

"How long until you enter the atmosphere?"

"Seven solar cycles...I think."

"We will contact you again within four solar cycles. We have to get the Xanthium and it's occupants clearance to land."

"Thanks, Prime. Tell Jazz I say hi."

The static vanished and Optimus suddenly felt that he needed a large cube of High-Grade.