Blaster glanced up through the forcefield. He quickly snapped off a couple rounds, downing one of the mysterious new Decepticons. He then returned to look at his motley crew.
They were stuck. Ultra Magnus, Springer, and the others had taken two of the remaining three shuttles, and the other was blocked off by rubble. Just after they thought it was over, it started over again. The new 'Cons had swept in, obliterating what was left of the city. It was only due to Trailbreaker's efforts that they were shielded.
"It looks bleak, I know," the cassette player commented. He was met with several angry glares and a few comments of "no slag." The only ones not to respond were Beachcomber, Grapple, and Red Alert, with the former two working on the latter's injured back. Not counting the missing Bluestreak and Huffer, the security director was near death thanks to both the Constructicons and also his intense paranoia.
"But we're doing it. Communications may be offline, but I have a plan to get help." At this, several mechs perked up a little. Gears and Sunstreaker still remained sullen, and Hound and Mirage went back to sniping away the jets above. "I have a plan. Tracks, I went you to give a lift to Grapple to the top of the remaining ship while me, Ramhorn, Powerglide, and Eject cover you." This earned the red bot glares and surprised glances abound, but he continued. "See if you can't use your arm to cut a hole into the ship, then escape to get assistance from Skids, Hoist, and their respective crews. Smokescreen, you and Rewind will be assisting Beachcomber. Next step: Inferno, Gears, I need you two to make a run back to the Ark. See if the gestalts and Omega are done with Bruticus and Menasor. We could use their help. Warpath, I need you, Sideswipe, and Steeljaw to cover them." The rest were quiet, but they all raised fists. Suddenly, nearby brambles burst open and a familiar figure approached.
"Bluestreak!" several cried as the gunner was allowed into the protection zone. The they noticed what he was carrying.
Slung over the Datsun's arm was the deceased body of Huffer. The minibot had lost the lower half of his jaw. His right arm was dangling, attached to his body just by a wire. His entire cab had been torn to shreds, with a sword still stuck in his waist.
Without speaking, the gunner dropped his cargo, swept up Red Alert's fallen rifle, and he took aim at the Decepticons overhead. The other Autobots could only watch in horror as he lay on shot after shot. Every laser connected with it's target. Finally the cartridge clicked and the silver robot fell to his knees. "Prowl, Ratchet…none spared…" He fell flat on his chest and passed out.
Smokescreen was the first to reach the Autobot. Attaching a cable to an access port on the tip of the gunner's Chevron. After waiting for a minute, he announced, "He's passed out in shock. Some minor bleeding and dents, but most of it is shock."
"He knows. The men on the shuttle. They're dead," Gears joined in. "He must have hidden out in the crash site when the new 'Cons appeared."
Blaster nodded solemnly. The gathered mechs shared a moment of silence for fallen comrades, and then began preparations for their escape route. As Blaster glanced up again, he realized that despite overwhelming odds, as long as life exists, so does hope.