Rian: It's time for WAR!
Misgel: ~We must sound the drums of war~
"C'mon, Smokescreen, nice and quiet..." the infiltrator whispered to himself as he slunk through the halls of Darkmount.
He walked as cautiously and silently as possible, even as the new recruit was painfully aware his bright, pristine white finish contrasted greatly with the black walls around him. All a drone had to do was turn around the corner, and he would be caught. He had already done this dozens of times, but it still set his guard on the highest setting. He kept the phase-shifter activate, the device attached to his wrist giving a soft hum, prepared to jump through a wall at a moment's notice.
However, Smokescreen was far more careful when he phased into room, as he had walked in on more than one Decepticon. Including Megatron. The warlord was completely oblivious to the interloper's presence. It would have been a perfect opportunity to return the favor and for Smokescreen to prove himself, if it wasn't for the smaller mech in the tyrant's arms. That Decepticon had seen him, but rather than warn his lord, he spoke of war plans instead. Or rather, he begged fruitlessly for Megatron not to attack a human city.
It was almost like the Decepticon cared. It was odd. He certainly wasn't a drone, and he looked younger than even Smokescreen. The Autobot had never seen a Decepticon like that, never mind one that Megatron would hold so closely. And why did he seem so... familiar?
Smokescreen thought that would be his only close call. Then he stepped into the training ring, only to come face-to-face with a Decepticon femme. She had gasped at his appearance, and he had just as quickly retreated. Her optics had been dim, so it was likely she was too strained to call the alarm.
Now the infiltrator moved on with hurried steps. He didn't have much time until the Decepticons launched the invasion. Optimus didn't have much time.
Smokescreen needed to find the Forge of Solus Prime, and fast. The Prime had been growing steadily weaker, even as the rookie sneaked energon out of the Decepticon fortress for them both. The legendary Knight spent more time recharging than awake, and even then, his usually strong words were soft and frail. His optics were dim, sometimes so dark Smokescreen wondered if he was online at all. The recruit was even desperate enough to get medical-grade energon from Knock Out's storage, but it had no effect. His wounds were still open, still leaking.
Finally the former Elite Guard dared to jack into his leader's medical port. He knew it was inappropriate to establish a connection with a superior officer, especially since he was no medic, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Only when Smokescreen accessed his systems, he was overwhelmed by error messages, warning tolls, and crippling, utter pain.
The Autobot had never disconnected so fast in his life, and felt guilty when he recalled that an improper disengagement may cause harm. Especially as Optimus moaned in protest, but said no more. Leaving Smokescreen alone, his frame rattling. It was then he finally realized.
His leader was dying.
Smokescreen knew what he had to do. He had to find the Forge. He didn't know what it would do, exactly, or how it could help. However, the power of the Primes was always beyond understanding. And the Forge was physical incarnation of creation itself—it could create anything from raw materials. So it was only logical it could repair, right?
It was a long stretch, but Smokescreen was desperate and running out of options, and Optimus wouldn't last much longer. He would save the Guardian Knight, no matter the cost. Even if he had to give up his own life to make it happen.
The Autobot stepped through yet another wall, and found a particular room. It looked like a communications center, with the walls covered with bright screens with stations almost filling the entire room. Peering closer, a few of the monitors showed live feed of various quarters of the Nemesis. A few more showed... human activities? It must have been feed from human cameras, a couple even filming a military base. Smokescream's tanks rolled. When he was finally reunited with his allies, he would have to warn them they were being watched.
Then the recruit had an idea. He sprinted to the nearest station. His fingers flew across the keys, as fast as he could. At the last key, he stepped away, and hoped it was enough. This was his only chance. This had to work, no matter what. Optimus's life depended on it. The Earth, the universe, depended on it.
Smokescreen heard the clanking of pedes outside the doorway, nearing. With a panicked gasp, the Autobots slipped through the wall. Now he just had to find that Forge—
"Ah!" the Autobot gasped, as stepped on the other side only to come face-to-face with purple optics staring out blankly at him.
The rookie backpedaled so fast he tripped over his own pedes, landing on his backside. Only for Airachnid to stare back at him.
But she wasn't moving.
The Insecticon was frozen, compound eyes wide and fangs flashing with raised claws in an expression of fury and horror. She was suspended into a gigantic, dark pod, easily three times bigger than Smokescreen. The Autobot stared at the bizarre sight, waiting for Airachnid to come to life and kill him. But she didn't. She was in stasis.
It was a cocoon, he realized. They were built by Insecticons, usually by scrap metal, and used for hibernation. They were mostly found in nests located in the depths of Cybertron or other dark portals. Such an underground cave network on Earth. Apparently Airachnid had awakened the hive, only to accidently activate one of the pods, trapping in her the cocoon for all eternity.
"Whew," Smokescreen sighed, relieved that she wouldn't be eating him anytime soon. He rose to his feet and backed away slowly.
Looking around, he found he was in a grand room, alit with brilliant lights, most of them focused on shiny objects that filled the wide space. Treasures the Decepticons had sacked from their enemies. Megatron's personal collection.
Including his newest trophy: the Forge of Solus Prime.
His spark pulsed rapidly in his chest. Yes! He found it, at last! He could save Optimus! Without a moment's hesitation, the rookie rushed forward.
"Alright, easy does it, Smokescreen..." the Autobot mumbled to himself, digits wriggling as he reached forward.
The Forge was basked in a golden glow underneath the artificial light, thrumming with a power that tickled Smokescreen's EM field. The power of the Primes.
The Autobot slowly, hesitantly, reached out. As an Elite Guard, he had been trained to protect such priceless relics with his life, but actually have one within his grasp... Smokescreen felt as though not only was he given an opportunity only a few mechs (and a femme) had, but he was overstepping into a boundary that he was not allowed to cross. He was by no means a Prime. Only a Prime was worth wielding this.
This needed to be in Optimus's servos. With it, he could fix himself.
Smokescreen wrapped his fingers around the handle. Sure enough, he felt the imaginable power pulsing beneath it, but it did not reach out, did not embrace him. If anything, he felt it recoil at his touch like he was a stranger. The rookie muttered an apology, even though the Primes probably couldn't hear him. With a heavy sigh, he lifted it from its pedestal.
Only for the hammer to crash onto the ground.
Smokescreen groaned. It was heavy.
"Time to get you to Optimus," he told the Forge, hoisting it up onto his shoulder with all the strength he could muster.
His frame almost crumpled underneath its weight. Now he could—
Suddenly a loud, wail-like noise filled the air. The lights began to flash red. Smokescreem screamed in fright, trying to find the source of the sound. Had the Forge had a security barrier around it-
Then he realized. That room, filled with countless monitors to observe. Including one, keeping a vigilant optics over sacred relics.
Soundwave had found him.
Megatron wasn't surprised when Ja—Quickclaw went into hysterics after the warlord explained his plan. Some kind of nonsense about innocence and righteousness and other foolish concepts. Megatron had promptly stamped the flurry of emotions filling the youngling's mind. He had screamed in protest at first, only to submit underneath the ancient being's stronger will. Effectively silenced, Quickclaw fell back into recharge.
Megatron proceeded to pick the mess of datapads scattered across the room—many of them finished. He would have to find his pet more entertainment. More training perhaps, utilizing his unique ability to seamlessly transform throughout battle. Strategies too. Soundwave could help train the youngling when he could not. It was only a matter of before—
Then Megatron's thoughts were rudely interrupted by the wail of the security alarm. He was greeted with a yelp of Quickclaw, forced from recharge. The warlord rolled his optics and pressed his mind against the youngling's.
"Recharge," he ordered, and the former human was unconscious in an instant.
A ping from Soundwave, along with a video fed. Showing the Autobot interloper—Smokescreen—messing with the spymaster's quarters, and then stealing the Forge of Solus Prime. Megatron let out a vicious growl.
"After the intruder, at once!" He roared through the comms, opening every channel. There was only one reason the mech would dare trespass in his tower and steal the Forge. He could not allow it to fall into Optimus's servos.
Not waiting to see if his order would be obeyed, he charged out the room, not without locking it behind him. His pets would not be taken from him, either.
"What are you standing around for?!" he snapped at a group of Eradicons, grabbing one and tossing the defenseless drone towards the end of the hall. "After him!"
The troops did not have to be told twice. They went sprinting down the hallway. Megatron narrowed his optics dangerously, stomping after them.
"Coming through!" said a new voice, one he had only heard a handful of times before he saw the intruder phase through the wall and then through him.
Megatron barked in rage and surprise, using old instincts more than anything to spin on his heels. He swiped out to catch the little Autobot pest, only for his claws to pass harmlessly through. Smokescreen shot him a rude gesture and slipped through the other wall.
The Forge of Solus Prime in hand.
"Rraaghhhh!" Megatron roared, his fury echoing throughout the tower.
Something big was happening, Miko could tell. Even Shockwave seemed excited. His optic would glow bright red, and his antenna would move with more frequency now. She wouldn't call him distracted, per say, but there was a certain quirk in his step.
She had watched him fuss over his pet-dragon, looking for the slightest flaw or even injecting serums into the beast's fuel lines. The ferocious monster was oddly compliant, sitting patiently, either eyeing Shockwave or her. It had even nuzzled its creator, as if he knew exactly what the scientist was. It had only let out a harsh yip at the injection, like a dog getting a shot at the vet. Shockwave only gave it a comforting stroke before turning to Megatron, saying something about being 'combat ready'.
Miko had watched Megatron's optics flare with a toothy grin, sharp armor even buffing up in pride. However, her questions (and existence) was dismissed as she was ushered back to the laboratory.
"What's going on?" she asked again once she and Shockwave were in the confines of the Decepticon's sanctuary. "What's got Buckethead so excited? And you're being more... lively than usual."
"We finally have enough weaponry capability to launch an attack on the indigenous species," Shockwave explained in that forever monotone voice, as if he wasn't talking about war. "Without fear of them retaliating."
"What?!" Miko shrieked, lurching forward. "Why?! Humans aren't a threat to you! Most don't even know you guys exist!"
"They are an obstacle that must be eradicated if we are to seize total control of this planet."
The femme's optics went bright with horror. Shockwave had said it in that factual tone, cold and logical. She had been told before, but she hadn't quite believed it before now. How cruel the Decepticons could be.
They were willing to kill millions solely because it suited their needs. People who didn't pose the slightest threat to them at all.
"The humans will not be targeted during the attack. Our objective is only to capture the city."
"People are still going to die!" the former human retorted sharply, but winced as she felt her processor being assaulted, scattering her thoughts.
"Collateral damage," Shockwave dismissed, already moving on to studying his collected research. "The city provides very little tactical advantage, however it will be allow us to approach the human representatives with an ultimatum."
Miko didn't like the sound of that. "And what might that be?"
"Concede with our demands, and be spared from extinction." The energon in the femme's frame turned to ice as her stabilizers locked into place. The Decepticon's words only made it worse. "Starting with the Autobots' exile."
"You mean... if they hand over the bots?"
"Precisely," Shockwave answered calmly as ever, working on something else now that Miko couldn't see.
Suddenly the ice in the human-turned-Cybertronian's veins thawed. By hot, raw rage.
The Decepticons thought they could just march right into her world? Slay millions of people, like they were expendable, like they were insects? All because of their stupid vendetta? Miko wasn't going to sit by. She wasn't going to let the 'Cons take her family away.
With a furious screech, the former human charged forward. She locked onto the back of Shockwave, right where the cable of his cannon attached to his spinal strut. Then Miko was aware of something happening.
The boiling energon raced to her arms, so suddenly and so much she felt the strain in new, unused fuel lines. Suddenly something shifted, and Miko's balled up fist was replaced with a long and broad battle axe. The femme raised it high above her helm, braced to bring it down, to finish her slaver once and for all—
Only for agony to fill her frame.
"Ahhh!" she screeched, the limb shifting back into a servo once more, the femme knocked to the ground.
She tried to move, to get up, to attack, but she couldn't. She felt wave after wave of white-hot pain course through her, coming from the very core of her being. She writhed, her plating rattling and she flailed as if to attack an unseen enemy. It did nothing to ease the pain, did nothing to give her relief. Miko heard an odd, high, shrill sound, like a squeal of brakes as a car skidded across the ground. It took several moments to realize it was her.
She couldn't think. She felt the data of her processor scramble, disrupting by the jolts of electricity that ripped her banks apart. Her vocalizer reset, her audios buzzed, her optics flickered on and off like a light switch. The only thing she was aware of, the only thing she could process, was the pain. Oh, the pain.
Then finally, finally, it came to an end, leaving the femme a twitching mess on the floor. A shadow moved over her.
"Do not attempt to attack me again," Shockwave said coldly, the words barely audible in her receptors. "To do so would be most... illogical."
W-what happened? Miko groaned, trying to regain her senses, but they remained elusive. She couldn't think. She only knew it was worse. So much worse than all the times before. She raised her helm, slowly, painfully, only an inch above the floor. Her lenses spiraled as they tried to focus, the black blob in front of her changing shapes.
It took several moments for her to realize it was her own arm. Her wrist was bare, sporting the scars of where the inhibitor—
Wait.
It was then a single, clear thought cut through her processor.
The inhibitor was gone.
"It's...not there..." she managed to string together, still feeling the lingering aches and throbs of whatever had hurt her. "But... how...?"
"Your external inhibitor is longer required," Shockwave explained, all too casually in that factual tone. "Now that I have planted an internal one, that cannot be removed without surgery."
"N-no..." she shook her head, curling in on herself as though to hide vulnerability from Shockwave. Tears were beginning to slip from her optics, soft sobs choking from her mouth.
The... the inhibitor was inside her. She couldn't escape it. She couldn't free herself from it. She couldn't free herself from Shockwave.
"Get up. There is much to do," her slaver's uncaring voice rang out, the mech stepping away as she was left to remain on the floor until Miko could pick herself back up.
It was hard. Her body was shaking and her muscles cables were tight and riddled with pain. Her stabilizers couldn't bear her weight, collapsing underneath her several times. Shockwave did not help her to her pedes, instead walking to another part of the lab. Miko gritted her teeth, trying to force down the aches in her frame and the sob of static in her vocalizer. She had to find purchase on a nearby lab table to force herself to her pedes, clinging to it for dear life as her knees trembled. She eyed a medical berth, on the other side of the lab. The mutant was braced to crawl to it, only to jump at Shockwave's deep voice.
"Come here, Warpdrive," the Decepticon ordered, waving claws.
She eyed him fearfully, no small amount of terror in her optics as she consider the repercussions of disobeying. Then she forced herself to move forward, one wobbling leg in front of the other. She had to use various surfaces to aid her movement as her stabilizers desperately attempted to right themselves.
She tried to pause out of arm's reach, then at arm's length, then within. Miko wanted to, tried to, glare up at her torturer, but with her gaze (and field) filled with pain and fear, it was hardly effective. Especially when Shockwave's command was as dull as ever.
"Dry your lubricants."
With a shaky fist, the mutant brushed away the coolant leaking from her optics. Mostly to stop the tingling sensation within her than complying. Miko flinched when suddenly there was a clawed servo on her cheek, wiping away a tear, but there was no warmth in the touch.
"You will never attempt something like that again," Shockwave ordered her. "You belong only to me, Warpdrive."
Miko flinched at the name, trembling as the clawed servo was removed. She didn't want to acknowledge the designation, but wisely remained silent.
She hated this. She hated Shockwave. She didn't want to be here anymore. She just wished everything would be over—
"Get your grubby, filthy, disgusting claws off of her," a dangerous growl sounded, making Miko stiffen with a gasp. "Or you're going to go from one servo to none."
Immediately the femme wheeled around, instantly taking in the familiar, silvery form.
Wheeljack.
Raf was slow to regain consciousness. He first felt an ache in his processor, data swimming around his helm aimlessly. The pain spread to his stabilizers, cementing him in place. It took several tries to boot his optics online, only be greeted by white fluorescent light glaring down at him.
"Nnngh," he groaned, trying to recalibrate his systems, only for error messages to cross his HUD. A noise sounded against his audio. It took several moments for him to decript it as his name.
"Rafael?"
The youngling glanced over to see an unfocused, but familiar shape. "Ratchet...?"
There was a gentle servo on his helm, assuring, and a ghost of a smile. "Thank the AllSpark..."
"W...what happened...?" the human-turned-Cybertronian muttered, his voice rising and lowering in mechanical twangs.
"You strained your systems," Ratchet's voice, oddly distant yet still holding that scolding tone. "Your body was forced into stasis to prevent further damage."
"I...what?" Raf muttered, trying to recall what had happened. He remembered going to the museum with June—
Then he remembered, panic striking his spark. Knock Out. But if he was here...
"Is Ms. Darby alright?" he asked immediately as he remembered. "She was there with me. If she was hurt—"
"She's fine," Ratchet assured through a sigh. "It was thanks to her quick thinking we were able to retrieve the Predacon fossil."
Raf sighed in relief and his spark thrummed with excitement. Ms. Darby was okay. And they got the bone. However, the medic's countenance did not look celebratory, especially as a new voice entered the conversation.
"Raf, what could you possibly be thinking?" Bumblebee demanded to know, stomping towards his medical berth.
"I-I was trying to help!" the former human stated quickly, optics going wide at hearing his guardian's disappointment
"That's not the point," the scout chided sharply. "You could have been captured! You could have died! Did you even think of the danger you were placing yourself and June in?"
"If we had waited, the Decepticons would have gotten to the bone first. We had to go—"
"And considering what happened, what difference would that have made?!"
"We got there first. Because of my powers! It helped me find the fossil, fight Knock Out!"
"And look where it got you!" Bumblebee ranted, pausing his pacing to gesture towards around the medbay. "You don't know how to control them, yet."
"It's more useful than anything else I've learned!" Raf shouted back in a rare moment of anger. "And we got the bone, didn't we? That's one monster less for the Decepticons!"
"And now the Decepticons know about you!" Bumblebee retorted with an accusing finger. "You should have told us!"
"We didn't have that kind of time!"
"Yet you thought you were perfectly capable of fighting a Decepticon on your own?"
"And I did!"
"And you almost got offlined!"
Bumblebee rose his voice to a sharp yell, that killed any retort on Raf's glossa. The boy could not help it. He flinched, violently, flattening his finials against his helm and sunk back into the medical birth. At his downcast optics and slight tremor through his body, Bumblebee's optics brightened when he realized his mistake. The scout gave a heavy sigh.
"Raf, I know you want to help, but you can't go running off into the field like that," Bumblebee said in a much quieter tone, standing over the little mech now. "It's dangerous. The 'Cons wouldn't hesitate to kidnap—or kill—you."
When Raf had nothing to say, the Autobots added, "And your powers almost forced you into a permanent stasis lock. Which is why Ratchet and I have agreed you can't use them."
Raf's optics went wide with horror, and something in his spark twisted a horrible way. It took him several long moments to process what the scout had said, and even then, it several times to force his vocalizer to work.
"W...what?" Raf stammered, in shock. "You can't do that!"
"We'll do whatever it takes to protect you," Bumblebee insisted. "Even if it's from yourself."
"But I can protect myself! I'm not a little kid anymore! I can fight now! I... I can do so much more than I did before!"
"I'm sorry, Raf, but it needs to be done," his guardian stated softly, wrapping a hand around his much smaller one.
The former human only jerked it out of the hold, ignoring the resulting offended look.
"You just think I'm a burden..." Raf mumbled, in a barely audible voice. Bumblebee's optics widened.
"No! Of course not!"
"I'm not dumb, Bumblebee. I know I'm a terrible fighter. And I'm not going to get better any time soon."
"Raf, that isn't true," the Autobot insisted gently. "You need more practice and you'll catch up."
The youngling shot Bumblebee a heated glare, before turning his head and refusing to look at the scout. Bumblebee made a noise, perhaps to plead some more, only to be cut off by a shrill beep to fill the air.
"What is that?" the Autobot barked, wheeling around as the rest of the Autobots filed into the room, summoned by the noise.
Ratchet looked just as confused as the rest of them. "A... transmission?"
Instantly Raf was confused. Transmission? From where? From who? How would they have sent a signal, that only the Autobots' sensors could detect? The youngling watched from his spot on the berth, unable to move, as Ratchet's fingers flew across the console.
"How is this possible?" the medic gasped.
"What is it?" Ultra Magnus demanded.
"It's from... a Decepticon frequency... But it's encrypted!"
"Can you break the code?" the Autobot commander persisted, frowning as he observed the wavelengths of the frequency.
"Let me see..." Ratchet hummed, fingers flying across the console.
Raf tried to get off of the berth, but Bumblebee pushed him back down. He gave a pout, but reluctantly stayed in his spot, leaning forward to see about the group of helms gathered around the screen. Glyphs flew across the screen. At first, the order seemed completely random, however, as Raf watched the same code repeat itself, he began to see a distinct pattern. So did Ratchet, inputting a decryption code and squinted as the obscure message was translated.
[SMKSCRN: ALIVE. OP CRITICAL. STUCK IN A RUT.]
"It's Smokescreen!" Raf exclaimed before Ratchet had a chance to. "And he's with Optimus... they need help!"
"Are there coordinates attached?" Ultra Magnus demanded, stepping forward.
"No," Ratchet shook his head.
Raf frowned, only vaguely hearing the Autobots talking around him as he continued to examine the data of the message. There had to be something more to it than that—surely Smokescreen wouldn't have sent a message desperate for help without something for them to follow?
The first message part of the message was straightforward enough. But stuck in a rut? What did that mean? The Autobot wouldn't be complaining about being trapped in a routine if—
Then Raf realized.
Trapped.
Like a wheel stuck in a rut. Nowhere to go, nothing you could do, no matter how much gas or force you put on the vehicle. It would not move, not until help came along. It wasn't a transmission. It was an SOS.
But how was Smokescreen trapped? Why didn't he contact them earlier? It was from a Decepticon frequency... which meant...
"They're trapped in Darkmount!" Raf blurted.
"What?" Ratchet turned him, brow ridges furrowed. "How could they possibly have remained hidden in Darkmount for so long?"
They wouldn't, unless— Raf remembered. The Autobot base was once a nuclear missile silo. It was a military base, during a time where the United States was braced to go into a war of mutual assured destruction. The base not only took up the mountain, it was spread underneath. Some of the tunnels were still operational, but most of the lower levels were eroded, unstable, and unused. The only time the children were allowed in the bunker of the base was when Scraplets had infested the outpost.
However, the Decepticons had no way of knowing the existence of the tunnels. Especially if they destroyed the surface, most likely collapsing any obvious entrances to them.
"The tunnels—they're in the tunnels," Raf said aloud as the realization hit him. "They've been under the base this entire time!"
"Are you sure? How can you tell?" Arcee demanded.
"I know they're there. They have to be!"
"Is it possible to groundbridge into the bunker?" Ultra Magnus asked Ratchet, turning away from Raf.
"No. There's no telling how unstable the underground infrastructure is after... after we left."
"We can't just sit here, though," Arcee countered. "If Optimus is alive we need to get to him now. None of us can take on Megatron."
"And how are we supposed to get there?" Bulkhead demanded. "You heard Lennox! No one's getting into Jasper. If the 'Cons can spot a human, what makes you think they won't spot us?"
"We can use the groundbridge," Bumblebee suggested. "Get in close and hit them hard."
"They'll still spot us."
"And vaporize us," Arcee deadpanned.
"Then we will need a distraction," Ultra Magnus concluded. "A significant one."
At this the 'Bots fell silent, each considering their options or otherwise at a loss.
"I can help with that," a voice spoke up and the group glanced down to see Lennox.
"Wyatt do you have in mind?" Ultra Magnus asked, staring down at the soldier in all seriousness.
"NEST is fully equipped with state-of-the-art technology, specifically designed to target Decepticons," Lennox explained, folding his arms over his chest as he took an authoritative tone. "We can engage the enemy and give you enough cover to well..." The man shrugged. "Do your thing."
"Yeah, well that didn't go so well last time," Arcee pointed out grimly.
The NEST commander visibly flinched, also remembering the disastrous mission in Africa. When Jack and the Predacon sample slipped through their fingers.
"If we do nothing, the Decepticons will probably kill us all anyway," the lieutenant colonel said with a grimace.
"The 'Cons fusion cannons blow away any army that gets too close," Bulkhead said. "We might as well walk up on a silver platter!"
"Then our first priority is to deactivate the fusion cannons," Ultra Magnus decided.
"And I assume you have a plan for that?" Ratchet muttered sarcastically, lips set into a frown as he eyed their second-in-command.
"We'll have to thin our enemy ranks, if we are to infiltrate their lines. Luckily, I have the necessary tools that may assist us."
While the rest of the Autobots only showed confused glances, the Autobot commander stepped forward, meddling with the console. Changing the screen from Smokescreen's message to an array of deadly look weapons, kinds Raf had never seen before. However, the Autobots must have, as they gave delighted gasps and even a couple victorious cackles.
"Oh yeah, now we're talking!" Bulkhead exclaimed, grinning widely at the selection.
The Autobots showed excited and determined looks. With that kind of firepower, they should surely catch the Decepticons off-guard, and cause significant damage. Raf even felt his own spark beating rapidly. They could stop the Decepticons. Find Optimus and Smokescreen. Save Miko and Jack. Maybe they could even win the—
"I hate to break up the party," Fowler's voice cut through. There was the sound of desperate steps, and the zealous Autobots glanced down.
Only to be greeted by a panting Fowler, his face shiny and his clothes wet from sweat. A wild, fearful look was in his eyes. Lennox was the first to notice the unusual and disturbing look of his friend, turning around, arms falling to his side.
"Bill, what's wrong?" he asked, full of concern. Fowler swallowed, and a shudder went through his body. There was a long moment, as if the government agent couldn't say the words. Raf wished it remained that way, for when he finally spoke in a dark tone, all the energon in his fuel lines froze.
"It's Las Vegas. It's under attack."