"Stop it! You're supposed to be putting OUT the fire, not BURYING him!"
"Since when? He's as good as gone!"
"No!" Motormaster shoved Dead End out of the way and greedily pulled the still-smoking Autobot spaceship hull out of the hole in the sand. The Sahara was NOTHING like the Mojave and they'd been trying to keep all of the dust out of their inner workings for far too long. "We need his parts!"
Cosmos' body wracked with spasms and odd gestures that indicated that there was life in him yet. Then he found his voice. "Mine are incompatible with yours!"
"Aw, slag, he still functions!" Motormaster threw him as far as he could.
Breakdown watched him fly. "You didn't want to try to crack his codifier?"
"SLAG! Wildrider! FETCH!"
Grumbling, he went to comply.
