Rescuing the Femmes

Thunder blast (likes those in power, Heatwave), (royal violet and gold}

Slipstream flyer, (sister to Starscream, Blades), {teal and black}

Strika (heavy duty-Boulder), {dusty purple and bronze}

Flareup (loyal to Lord High Protectorate - Chase) (fire red and orange)

Heatwave stomps out of the Sigma17 bunker that is below the human rescue station. If he could, we would be slamming the automatic door for if there is anyone who needs rescuing right now, it's himself. Fists clenched, he makes his way up behind Chief Charlie Burns who is manning the warning station.

"Oh no, I know that walk," Chief turns over his shoulder and up to the red mech.

"Really? And what is 'that walk'?" Heatwave stops and plants his hands to his hips.

The ranking human turns the chair all the way around and gives his best supportive yet sympathetic look. "Its the one of a leader -or father- who loves his team but would really like to hang them from the rafters by their toes."

"Pedes, but yeah." He has to grunt in a bit of disgust. "Sparklings the lot of them!"

"Sparklings?" Charlie asks.

Heatwave rubs his forehelm then stops. It occurs to him whom he is speaking to: a parent. Not just a parent of an adolescent but also of trained respectable adults much like his own young team. "Sparklings are our versions of babies or children. It's been a very long time since we have been sparklings ourselves let alone seen any." He drops his gaze to his shuffling pede. "Or ever will again."

Charlie's brow furrows, "Why do you say that?"

"No one has seen a femme in a very long time and there are very few mechs with the ability to carry. None of us here are carrier breeds, not that we really need any sparklings at this time when we can barely take care of ourselves without bickering."

Charlie can see the mixed feelings that weigh heavily on the Rescue Leader's shoulders. "It's not easy being a leader to those who are not family. Its can be harder to be the leader of family, too. They get tired of me telling them what to do all the time: professionally and personally. I can only imagine how it has to be for you never knowing if there will be any more of your kind and your duty to keep them alive."

The ruckus from down below is becoming more apparent leaving Heatwave to groan. "Maybe this is why Primus has not allowed us to procreate and our race is dying."

Chief Burns pats Heatwave's hand. "Let me give you a little leadership advice, sometimes you just need to take a break. Get away and be just Heatwave. Not leader, not rescuer. Just be yourself."

Right then Dani and Kade come badgering their way into the room followed by Cody and Graham with their own argument. As that is going on, the fight from down below now comes to the main floor. Heatwave grips his head ready to rip it off under his own power when the console begins pinging.

The Chief whistles silencing bot and human alike. "Business, people."

Heatwave leans in and looks at it curiously. "That is definitely a Cybertronian signal but I do not understand what it is saying."

Charlie gives Heat wave a side smile, "Why don't you go check it out?"
Chase brings a finger up, "He should not go alone."

Charlie spreads open the map and then drags a line out to the red flashing point. "Be my guest, Chase. It's right out there about two hundred feet below the water and about ten miles out. Hope you can swim."

Chase actually scowls then blubbers trying to find a decent reply but can't.

Charlie turns back to Heatwave, "Like I said, sounds like a mission that only a leader can handle alone. I'm sure the ferry can head you out so far and then you can make it from there. Just give us a call if you need any assistance or run into trouble."

Heatwave nods then turns to Chase. "I would appreciate it if you would contact Prime's team and see if they can help decipher this language. It could help identify the nature of the emergency."

Chase salutes his leader, "Very well."

Kade sputters forth, "You aren't seriously going out there with out me?!"

Dani plants her fists to her hips, "And you seriously think you can hold your breath that long? Last time you said you almost got sea sick going out. NO! I'll go!"

Charlie puts his hands up to halt everything again. "The humans are under my orders and no human is going out to an unknown Cybertronian signal that is underwater."

Heatwave is grateful for the Chief to stop that. Right now the last thing he can handle is a wound up Dani. Instead he turns to his own team.

"It shouldn't be that hard and we know that the coms will reach that far out if I take the booster. And if Chase can get us more information, that should help me even more. So! No time to waste."

Charlie hands Heatwave the booster which he swiftly secures to his back where he can adjust it and it sits near enough to boost his transmissions. He gives a final look to his team then heads out the door in a dash of blinking lights.

"Man! It's been a long times since Heatwave has done a mission alone."

Boulder chuckles, "Yeah, but of anyone, Heatwave can do it. He'll be fine, don't worry." He turns back to Blades and snarls, "But you better."

The Chief whistles again. "Look, I'm in charge here, believe it or not. Now, Chase, go contact Prime. Cody, help him. Everyone else find something to do that doesn't require me to tear you all apart." They just stare so he counts, "One, two-" he only ever counts to three and then all hell breaks loose. Everyone scatters before he reaches three, leaving him to wander over to the kitchen for a sandwich with a rather smug smile on his face.

Heatwave hit's the dock a full speed sailing through the air and flips to his boat mode. From there, he cruises a couple hours off the coast of the island. Bouncing across the waves with dolphins racing against his sides, Heatwave feels his burdens slipping off his sides and being washed away by the spray. The salt water might be corrosive on a regular basis but right now, it feels tingly and wonderful sliding over his sleek form.

No looking after anyone else, no constant chatter to pay attention to, just him and the ocean and a point to head for. "Ahhhh," he openly sighs.

The pinging gets closer and then suddenly stops. That causes him to stop and drift hoping that it will start again. When it doesn't he calls back to base. The signal is jammed. He ponders if what is blocking his communications is also blocking the other signal? He decides it's time to use a different tactic

With a flip, he becomes a fire truck and sinks to the bottom. He soon figures out that this mode is not going to help him with the soft sand and jutting boulders. With a grunt, Heatwave rises to his bot form, kicks on his flood lamps and begins walking.

It takes him about an hour, but then he sees a drop ship unlike anything he has ever seen before. Attached to it is collection of other metallic things have been welded on to extend it. He's about to make another step, when he feels something cold press against his neck.

"Hold it Big Red, where do you think you are going?" The voice is full of authority and definitely has a deadly touch to it. This is a soldier he is dealing with.

He raises his hands but moves nothing else. "My name is Heatwave, leader of Sigma 17 Rescue Bots. I heard a Cybertronian signal and came to investigate. Are you in need of assistance?"

The point of the barrel slides from the side of his neck to the front of his throat then down to his Autobot shield and hesitates over his spark. Heatwave has a chance to look at the shiny violet and gold creature before him. His optics go wide, his throat bobs and his voice squeaks. It's like looking at a myth. "You're a femme."

She smiles sliding the pistol point even lower. Right to the spot housing his spike. "Yes I am, Mech. Do you have a problem with that?"

Heatwave feels a wave of heat go through his groin he hasn't felt in eons. He softly shakes his head, "No, Ma'am." He's not really afraid of her, but he is awestruck. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Yeah, there is. Mind coming inside?"

"I don't mind at all." He presents his elbow to escort her home.
With a broad grin, she drops her hand to the side (still holding the gun) and loops her other wrist through the crook. "It's been a long times since I've met a gentlemech."
He chuckles warmly matching his stride with hers. "Well, one of the things we Rescue Bots are screened for is our integrity. If we aren't honorable, then we get shipped off to become Wreckers." He gives her a tip of his helm, "I am so sorry Ma'am, may I call you by your name?"
"Sure," she smirks back at him and winks, but doesn't give her name. He chuckles again to her sneakiness. She's going to make him figure it out for himself.

"Umm, the purple sigil on you, I'm going to guess Decepticon faction?"

"Score one for you, Autobot Commander. Still want to escort me home?"
Heatwave pats her hand touching him. "Are you still in need of my assistance?"
She leans into him, "Of course, Heatwave."

It's a lovely walk up to the dropship turned base. The elegant by deadly femme turns him around so that he can't see her open the mechanical locks. Then she grasps him by and aft plate and makes him step backwards into the airlock. He respects her need for security and goes along with it. What she doesn't know is that he is listening very hard as to what she is moving around so that if need be, he can get out.
At the moment, this Decepticon femme does not look like a threat right now. More like a damsel in distress, but he knows far better than to underestimate her strength.

The water drains and the second door opens. He can feel her let go of his rear and so he turns around to follow her further inside.
"Thunderblast! What are you doing with that-that AUTOBOT!" A teal and black trim Seeker bellows out.

Heatwave picks up one of Thunderblast's fist and bows his head to kiss the back. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Thunderblast." He gives her one hell of a charming smile.

She shakes another finger at him, "That's not fair."

"Nothing ever is," he rises back up and examines the base from his spot beside her.

Yep, definitely a drop ship. Pieces have been removed to give it more open space in the operations center, and he can see where additional sections have been carefully welded on. He certainly has a more posh base of operations, but these femmes have made this homey.
"I like what you've done with the ship," he gives his hum of approval.

A burly dusky purple and bronze femme steps into the room with a fire red and orange streamlined one. They both stop and gape.

"Is that a Rescue Bot? I thought they were extinguished," The dusky one asks.

Heatwave steps forward and offered his hand in greeting, "I don't know about the other teams, but Sigma 17 is alive and well here on Earth. I am quite surprised to see you femmes. I believed you had all perished."
Flareup takes his hand in greeting. "Did you say team? Like there are more of you?"

He gives her hand a shakes and then a proper kiss too. Then he turns to the taller one. "Yes, there is. Are there more of you?"
Strika blushes when he kisses her hand as well. "Ah, n-no. Just us four."

The teal Seeker strides down the stairs in a fury of frustration slapping Strika's hand out of Heatwave's light grasp. "Have you all lost your processors?! He's an Autobot! He probably answers to Prime and will have him here in a minute to kill us or worse! And we will be right back where we were when we fled the Decepticons."

Heatwave gasps and steps back from them. Thunderblast comes to Slipstream to try and calm her. "Slipstream, he's a Rescue Bot, he's not an Elite Guard nor is he part of a strike and kill team. They aren't allowed to let factions come in the way of a rescue."
Slipstream flays her hand out, "We don't need any help! We are fine here, or at least we were until someone had to go and send out a distress call!"

As appointed Team Leader, it's his job to case out a situation before sending anyone in. Strika dips her head and flushes light, which probably means she sent the signal.

Flareup though is the one to speak and reach out to her friend. "But we aren't alright. We are dying out here."
"Dying!" Heatwave's spark panics. "NO! You could be the last Cybertronian femmes alive, we have to do something. Let me call Ratchet for you, PLEASE!"

Thunderblast lays her hand on his gauntlet making his poor wide optics look down to her. "Hey there you big hero you, she didn't mean it like that. We are healthy, and we are fine." She steps closer to him and palms her hands up his broad chest, "Probably even better now that you're here."
"Primus Thunderblast, could you stop hitting on him for a moment and get your leadership head together. Because I really don't want to be following Slipstream!" Flareup snarls.

"Excuse me?! And what is wrong with me looking out for everyone because you three are too hopped up on pheromones." She plants her angry hands on her very trim hips, wings twitching in frustration.

Heatwave smiles down at the fellow team leader. "Want to go for another walk? Because I have to admit, your distress call certainly gave me a break from my own bickering team."

"Primus you really are a gentlemech. Yes, please rescue me from this! The bickering, the boredom, and the.. loneliness." Her head lowers at the last one as the others continue to snap at each other.

Heatwave lifts her chin by one knuckle, "Hey, talk to me, tell me what is really going on?" And he lifts his visor so she can see his pure optics.

She looks deep into them, and then nods slipping her hand into his. He willingly follows where she guides him. Out of the main room and into another room. It's several cargo containers welded together and then decorated inside. There's a personal computer, a berth and a few other odds and ends. She motions him to take her chair and she sits on the berth.

"Slipstream is the twin to Lord Megatron's Second in Command. He told her that that most of the femmes have been killed off in the war, and so asked her to go find and gather the rest of us together. She did, but when we got together, we realized there was no way we would be able to get back to Cybertron on our own. One by one, something happened and it came down to the four of us and one drop pod. We're tired of war. Some are still loyal to their faction, and some of us just want to have personal lives now."
"And you? How are you the leader and not her?"
"According to Decepticon ranks, I outrank her as a Commander over a Lieutenant. But I don't want to be a soldier any more. I just want to go home."
Heatwave nods and looks around the made up homely place. "According to Optimus Prime, Cybertron is uninhabitable right now. It's going to take a lot to repair her and she doesn't even have enough Energon to sustain very many."
Thunderblast nods sadly. "Yeah, Slipstream told us that Starscream said something quite the same. That's why we are here instead of going back to Nemesis or traveling on any further. At least here we have the ability to gather Energon and live. Even as mundane a life as it is."

Heatwave sighs heavily and leans in resting his elbows on his knees and helms to his hands. "Oh Primus."