He hissed sharply as he came to, feeling the virus slip back out of his processor and away from influence. His once again purple visor glowed strongly as he tried to take back in his surroundings, but he shut it off quickly and shook his head. Reactivating his visor again more carefully, he looked over the damage.
His berth was unrecognizable, the score marks running completely through to the ground. Looking down at his arms, Stealthblade's first impulse was to gasp. They were coated in energon, and he whizzed his head up to see if he had hurt the others. To his great relief, they were all intact, with no obvious damage to be seen.
Then the energon must be mine. He thought, and looked back down at his arms.
Now that he realized it, he could feel a steady throb coming from them, probably having torn some muscle cables and other circuitry trying to rip his berth to shreds. Stealthblade also noted he was upright, standing beside his berth, and no longer strapped down on it.
"I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" Stealthblade worriedly looked at the others.
"No Stealthblade, everyone's just fine." Pulse assured.
"Just fine!?! Do you realize the damage he's caused?" Ratchet snapped, pointing sharply at the zone Rawspark's shield had been wrapped around.
Stealthblade looked as well, noting the deep scratches running through the floor, as well a scorch mark or two.
It must have been using my thrusters. Stealthblade sighed, cringing mentally as he shifted his feet. And they weren't repaired yet either.
"Just take a seat over there Stealth." Pulse motioned to an open berth.
It's a good thing our Med-Bay's big. The dark soldier noted.
He carefully limped over to the indicated spot, sitting down as gently as possible. The sound of barking suddenly met his audio receptors, and he flickered a helm spike up in surprise.
Am I hearing things? He looked up at Pulse curiously.
He just shook his head, smirking slightly as he dismantled the destroyed berth from the floor. The dark mech inclined his head as the barking grew louder. Suddenly the Med-Bay door opened, and in ran Montana, along with something else. Stealthblade felt his helm spikes flare out in surprise as he stared down at a happy and noisy dog, running around Montana excitedly.
It looked to be some sort of German Shepherd mix, judging by the extra fluffiness of its coat, and the gray fur intermixed in its mostly black and tan coat. Its tail wagged fiercely, despite the towering mechs around it. Stealthblade also saw it was missing its right front leg, and in its place was a mechanical limb, that was just as movable as its other limbs.
"You got a dog?" Stealthblade gaped.
Montana smiled and nodded, reaching down to stroke her dog's neck.
"His name's Bladestrike." She grinned.
Bladestrike? Why's that sound…wait a minute. Stealth-blade Storm-strike. Montana… Stealthblade face palmed himself.
"You named him after me and Storm?" He grumbled.
"Sure did! He likes it to!" Montana bent over, hugging her dog.
Stealthblade turned to Pulse. "You let her bring the dog here?"
He shrugged. "Well, we tried to argue with her, but that didn't work out so well. Plus she needed something to…distract her." His optics blinked at Stealthblade, showing him the real meaning behind what he said.
She must have been depressed while we were gone. Stealthblade figured.
"Come on Bladestrike, let's meet Stealthblade." She quickly led the dog over, who was only too happy to follow.
Stealthblade tilted his head down at the dog, surprised it wasn't frightened of him in the least. Montana hopped on one of the lifts, which carried her and Bladestrike up to his level. She crawled onto his lap, and he wrapped a careful claw around her to ensure she wouldn't slip. The dog sprang onto his lap after a second thought, and peered up at him with friendly liquid gold eyes.
"Montana, what kind of dog is that?" Stealthblade asked uncertainly.
"Uh, a German Shepherd mix." She shrugged.
"Yeah, but what's the other part?" He looked at her uncertainly.
She looked away towards Pulse, who rolled his optics.
"She doesn't know. She won't let us test him to find out either." Pulse grumbled.
"Human girls are so stubborn." Ratchet growled while he worked, not even lifting up his optics.
Montana giggled at that, but returned her gaze on Stealthblade, now looking more solemn.
"You didn't find Aero?" She asked in a small voice, weaving her fingers deep into Bladestrike's coat for comfort.
"'fraid not." He sighed, rocking back.
She stared down at Bladestrike sullenly for a moment, carefully stroking one of his ears. The dog tilted his head into it, enjoying the touch. She smiled weakly, and returned her gaze up to Stealthblade.
"He already knows all sorts of tricks. Maybe I can show you in a bit? Ratchet doesn't like Bladestrike doing tricks in the Med-Bay." She suggested.
Bladestrike yipped as if he understood, and wagged his tail again starting up at Stealthblade. Hesitantly the black mech extended a finger, the coating of energon covering it now dried on, and barely stroked the dog's back. His tail wagged harder.
"What's with the mechanical leg?" He flipped back a set of helm spikes.
"I found him in the back alley behind my home where you guys like to hang out. He wasn't using his right leg, so I convinced Pulse to take a look at him, and he ended up having to replace it. Now of course, we can't get rid of him." She grinned rather smugly at that.
"Sounds like you planned on that." Stealthblade chuckled.
She giggled, and suddenly snuggled further into his lap, propping herself up comfortably between a fold in his plating.
"Cozy?" Stealthblade teased as kindly as his voice would allow.
She nodded, her face dropping yet again. Stealthblade suddenly scooped up Bladestrike, and placed the large dog on top of her, making her laugh.
"Gah, Stealth, he's too heavy!" She exclaimed, pushing the dog over to the side, but keeping its head within reach.
"I know."
Windgust then entered, striding meaningfully over to the black Autobot. Stealthblade crooked his head uncertainly, making the femme smile.
"Your arms, please." She grinned.
She must have been sent to repair him by one of the other medics. Stealthblade carefully held one out, and she began to scan over the damage.
"Primus Stealth, you did this to yourself with nothing but a berth and claws?" She began peeling off the frayed armor from his limb.
"You should see what he does to himself with a gun." Montana teased her friend affectionately.
"Hey, I've never shot myself before." Stealthblade defended quickly.
"Stealth honey, if there's anything I've learned in my field of work, is that there's always a first." Windgust smirked good naturedly, but the stealth soldier could sense her deeper meaning behind it, though Montana didn't seem to register it.
"Once your arms are repaired, you and the others are to report to Optimus Prime on what happened, and why exactly you brought back all these bots with you." Pulse walked over, giving up the destroyed berth to a now swearing Ratchet, who had apparently scratched himself along a jagged edge after he had miscalculated its sharpness.
"No one's introduced each other yet?" Stealthblade cocked his head.
"Well, that big red one won't let anyone near him, and his four opticed buddy won't let us try to get near his pal." Pulse looked at the stealth soldier almost curiously, and then began repairing his other arm while Windgust was busy with the other. "But they both keep asking about you so…either you've made quite the impression on them, or something else is…what's the human term…up?"
Stealthblade flickered a helm spike, uncertain himself. Pulse didn't seem to mind his lack of answer though.
"Now when you get back from your meeting, you're to report back here immediately. We need to tell you more about the virus." Pulse instructed.
"Wait, something's wrong with the chip?" Stealthblade stiffened.
"No, no, just relax. We'll tell you after you get back." Pulse assured.
I am not liking where this is going. He shifted uncomfortably, paying careful mind to the small girl and dog in his lap.
After a few minutes, the two medics pulled back, giving their work one final look over before having Ratchet inspect him. The cranky med bot of course made Montana and Bladestrike leave and find amusement elsewhere. She was not happy about it though.
"Don't even think about taking a detour when getting your aft back in here, or it will be welded to this berth, understand?" Ratchet demanded.
"For the sake of my aft…okay." Stealthblade spoke lightly, feeling the comment suited his little brother more than he.
Ratchet grumbled something and turned away to work on Clawfist, who was still in stasis lock. The mech didn't look good, and would probably either end up with a new face, or a mask, depending on Ratchet's skill level.
"Okay Stealth, Windgust will take you to see Optimus Prime with her." Pulse opened the door for him.
The dark mech nodded, and carefully climbed to his feet. He was still sore and achy all over, yet feeling better than before. He twitched his helm spikes uncomfortably as he walked, but it wasn't enough to hinder him from leaving. Windgust took note of his obvious pain, but said nothing.
Following the femme, she led him to the Private Meeting room, a place Stealthblade had never seen used. Upon entering, his visor settled on Torrent, Doubleedge, Optimus Prime, Prowl, Jazz, Dawncatcher, Plasmagrade, Rawspark, and the gladiators. Node was still pretty banged up, but obviously too stubborn or distrusting of the medics to seek care. Outspace wasn't looking too much better either.
"Stealthblade, it's good to see you back on your feet." Optimus Prime greeted.
He nodded, still uncertain of exactly what this meeting was about. He took a seat at the table everyone was at, with Windgust at his right, and Node and Outspace at his left. Every bot was opticing them nervously.
"Doubleedge, your report." Optimus Prime looked over at the black and white Saleen s7.
He nodded, and began.
"Our trip to Mars was mostly uneventful, until we reached the planet, and were ambushed by Shadowshifter's small group of cons." He handed Optimus Prime a data pad, obviously containing everything that happened to them. Stealthblade tried to recall Doubleedge documenting anything, but failed.
"Stealthblade and Stormstrike became separated when we landed from their attack, but we regrouped with little problem. We discovered Jazz while searching for information about Clawfist and Aero Prime, and he introduced us to Windgust, who is a field medic. We agreed it would be best to keep her with us, seeing as we had no medic of our own with us."
Windgust smiled.
"Windgust, you are neutral, but have aided us Autobots against the cons deliberately. Do you wish to become an Autobot?" Optimus Prime inquired.
She nodded. "Yes Sir, I've been wanting to ally with the Autobots for quite some time now. Jazz was just the first Autobot that was willing to help me do so."
Optimus Prime nodded, and threw Jazz an uncertain glance. He smiled good naturedly, completely cool and composed.
"Doubleedge, if you would continue."
"Right; while we were allying with Windgust, Stealthblade was captured by a con in disguise, by the name of Cloudcover." Stealthblade sunk his helm spikes down low, and even seemed to shrink in his seat a bit. "While he was her captive, he learned that Lightarch had in fact betrayed us."
The room was dead silent.
"Bumblebee's not going to like this information." Optimus finally sighed.
"Stealthblade also learned that a former Autobot that went con named Glasscutter was the one that was holding Aero and Clawfist captive. When we went to rendezvous with him after his escape, myself along with Plasmagrade, Stormstrike, Torrent, and Jazz…fell of a cliff, and then Stealthblade and the femmes were attacked by Shadowshifter and his cons."
Stealthblade shivered at the memory, reminded of how close he'd been to dying then.
"Luckily Rawspark had noticed our plight, and rescued us, allowing us to take shelter in his home until we were functional again."
"And then you joined them?" Optimus Prime raised an optic ridge.
Rawspark just shrugged. "Stormstrike invited me." He said in his usual unenthusiastic voice.
Prowl was shaking his head. "We need to have a word with that mech."
Stealthblade chuckled at that. "Good luck."
Prowl shot him a disapproving look, reminding the stealth soldier that the second in command didn't particularly like him. He held back a sigh.
Doubleedge then resumed. "Because of Windgust's knowledge of Glasscutter, we were able to find his hide out, and Stealthblade slipped in to investigate. He found Clawfist and Bluestreak, but was ultimately captured as well. When I realized that Glasscutter likes making a show out of his captives, we spanned out and found the arena he would most likely place his prisoners in for sport. We managed to arrive when Stealthblade was fighting Node and Outspace, and in the end succeeded in rescuing them."
"And you were fighting Node and Outspace?" Optimus Prime opticed the two gladiators uncertainly.
"They had a change of heart when they learned Glasscutter was just using them." Stealthblade defended quickly, which Outspace seemed to appreciate. "And we couldn't just leave them with no where to go, that's not the Autobot way."
The great red and blue leader simply nodded, but still seemed unsure. Node cracked his knuckles irritated under Optimus Prime's scrutiny. Outspace shot him a warning look, but it only resulted in his companion snarling at him.
"Node." Stealthblade snapped, not wanting the soldier to get off on the wrong foot with their current leader.
To everyone's astonishment, including Outspace's, Node stopped, and sat back, resuming a more relaxed position. Their visors met, and he shrugged it off like nothing had happened.
That was, surprising. Stealthblade thought in slight amazement. Node will actually listen to me. I wonder if it's because I beat him…or if it's because he's afraid of my virus coming back out? He wondered silently for a moment. Or maybe both?
"And what is it you two wish to do?" Optimus Prime asked uncertainly.
"We…" Outspace began.
"…want to stay with Stealthblade," Node cut off his partner.
All the Autobots exchanged glances, the stealth soldier mentioned included.
Unexpected, I must admit. Stealthblade murmured silently.
"Well Node, and Outspace, if you to remain with us, you must either become neutrals, or Autobots." Optimus Prime put down the ultimatum.
"Neutrals can't fight right?" Node asked, almost smugly.
The leader shook his masked head.
"Then Autobot it is." His cold visor glowed chilling for a moment.
"Prime, you can't be seriously considering letting these two join our ranks." Prowl looked at the large mech desperately, accompanied by Doubleedge and worried looking Dawncatcher.
"If you wish to join us, you must first prove yourselves loyal to our cause, and true Autobots. Stealthblade, I place these two under your charge. You are to report to me on a regular basis about their behavior, and whatever they do both within and outside of this base." His normally gentle optics had a hard glare to them.
Stealthblade stiffened. I'm babysitting these two monsters? Hell no!
"Sir." He nodded, already dreading it.
Well I suppose they deserve a chance, and Node does seem to listen to me so…no wonder Optimus put me in charge of them. Ugh, I hope Node isn't planning on a rematch.
"With that aside," Optimus Prime shifted his optics back on the others, "do you know of the location of Aero?"
Doubleedge sighed lowly. "Clawfist may know a bit more information, but not much if any. All we know is that he was taken by another group of Decepticons off planet. We don't know their destination or who they are."
"But when ya think about it, there aren't tha' many large Decepticons groups left, so we should be able ta narrow it down pretty well." Jazz cut in, being Mr. Optimistic.
Optimus Prime nodded, and then looked at his second in command. "Prowl, research any files you have on recent large scale Decepticon activity, and send me whatever information you find."
Prowl nodded, but Jazz just shook his head. "Prowl, you're not going to stay up all night doing this, understand?" The saboteur gave him a stern glare, or at least as stern of a glare as he was capable of.
Prowl didn't respond, getting a chuckle from both Torrent and Plasmagrade. Stealthblade was too on edge from his new assignment to find amusement at the moment. His visor inclined slightly to his charges, only to see that Outspace was looking right back at him. He blew out a sigh, and rocked his head down on the table.
You got stuck babysitting Node and Outspace!?! That's hilarious! Stormstrike's thoughts suddenly entered his head, making his brother stiffen.
Storm, this is bad enough without your input. Stealthblade groaned mutely in his head.
His sibling just laughed at him. Just don't let them beat you up too bad, cause I'll feel it to.
Keep laughing and I just might. Stealthblade threatened, sitting back up to make visor contact with a rather confused looking Torrent.
He just shook his head, telling him to even ask. Torrent smirked slightly, understanding Stealthblade was having a mental conversation with his younger brother.
"Dawncatcher, you're to monitor any frequencies that send word of Decepticon sightings or activities." Optimus Prime turned to settle his experienced optics on the young femme.
She nodded quickly, but didn't appear too happy about monitoring ever single frequency she picked up.
"I also want extra security drones up and running by the end of this week. If by the slight chance the cons chose to come to Earth, I want them found." The great leader finally sat back, appearing to be done with their meeting. "Contact Loosevalve and let him know." His optics rest on Jazz, who smirked.
"Will do Sir."
"You are all dismissed." Optimus Prime finally closed their meeting, and each bot filed out, and continued on with their daily business.
Stealthblade looked at his new charges uncertainly, and Node rolled his shoulders somewhat imposingly. Rather than being frightened by it though, Stealthblade shook his head and sighed, crossing his arms.
Oh this is going to be fun. Stealthblade muttered sarcastically.
Cheer up big bro, it could be worse. Stormstrike chuckled lightly.
Yeah, there could be three of them. He grumbled.
See, now you're getting it. Stormstrike teased.
Stealthblade snorted, not at all amused.
"You two follow me then. I need to report back to the Med-Bay, and you both look like you could use some work as well." Stealthblade motioned.
Outspace looked like he was going to agree, when Node suddenly placed a restricting hand on his shoulder. Outspace tried to pull away, but Node held fast. The larger gladiator glared Stealthblade down, trying to look as intimidating as possible.
"We don't need any help." He growled lowly.
"And I'm Megan Fox." Stealthblade sighed.
The two gladiators exchanged confused glances. Stealthblade would have rolled his optics if he had any. After a split second decision, Stealthblade reached up and grabbed Node by one of his blunted helm spikes.
"Hey, let go!" He snarled, pulling away fast.
The black elite held fast, making the larger mech squirm. Outspace laughed from his side, but before Node could do anything about it, Stealthblade dragged him out, and led him stiffly down the halls back to the Med-Bay.
"You fragging son of a glitch! Let me go! Fricken slagger…" His insults went on, but Stealthblade just tuned them out, and strode quickly back into the Med-Bay.
Both medics looked up, alarmed by Node's noisy entrance. Stormstrike who was wide awake now, had been laughing hysterically even before the gruff gladiator had arrived, which had seriously confused his medics.
"Shut up and sit down." Stealthblade muttered, swinging Node's head in a free berth's direction.
Outspace walked in cautiously after them, his many optics smirked up at Node's distress. Stealthblade released Node's helm spike, and the mech quickly straightened back up to his full height, glaring down at the black mech.
"Sit. Down." Stealthblade ordered.
The whole room grew silent, each mech wondering if Node would really listen to Stealthblade, who was not only smaller, but missing every weapon on his body except his regular claws.
Stealthblade did not break visor contact, and if anything seemed to swell in size as his spikes slowly flared out threateningly. Node then sat, much to everyone's surprise as well as relief.
"I can't believe you convinced them to see us." Pulse stated in slight shock.
"I can do a lot of things." Stealthblade snarled, still glaring at Node to make sure he didn't get back up and slip out.
"That's what she said." Stormstrike laughed.
Stealthblade swung his head in his brother's direction, mentally stabbing him. Stormstrike shrank back, but choked out a few more weak chuckles.
Pulse shook his head, the only mech other than the brothers getting it. Ratchet looked at the still standing Outspace, obviously wishing he'd take a seat, but for once, not wanting to yell at the highly unpredictable gladiator.
"You should sit to Outspace." Stealthblade indicated.
The dark metallic green mech nodded, and took a seat across from his counterpart. Stealthblade sighed and nodded to himself, pleased that he was a bit more cooperative than his partner.
"Now wait for either Ratchet or Pulse to help you. And listen to what they tell you to do." Stealthblade shot Node another look of warning.
Node crossed his arms irritably, but didn't protest, so Stealthblade took that as a good thing. He then sat down at his own berth, and waited patiently for the medics to get over to him. He noted the berth he had destroyed was still partially there, but more of the dangerous edges had been removed. They'd probably either assign an Autobot who had gotten in trouble to clean the rest up, or do it themselves after they had fully repaired their patients.
Clawfist was still in a forced stasis lock, and still looking like shit. Or at least it Stealthblade's opinion. He did look a lot more comfortable shut down though. Ratchet had removed the remainder of his jaw, and was currently attaching a completely new one, though it lacked out outer face plate at the moment. It was somewhat eerie, reminding the stealth soldier of a skull's jaw bone. All he could think was that it was a good thing that Clawfist was currently unconscious.
Bleh, I can't imagine getting my face ripped off. Stormstrike shuddered from his own berth.
You said that earlier. Stealthblade reminded.
I know, and the thought still stands.
Stealthblade couldn't help but get the mental image of Stormstrike getting his mask ripped off, and Stormstrike jerked from his spot, his optics wide in alarm.
"Holy crap! Stealthblade!" Stormstrike shuddered.
"Wait, you saw that?" Stealthblade crooked his head.
He nodded, and shuddered again.
"Oh, sorry." Stealthblade flattened his helm spikes apologetically.
Pulse could only guess what had transpired between the two, and finally sighed and came over to the stealth soldier. Stealthblade's helm spikes flickered forward interested in what the medic was going to tell him.
"Stealthblade, now I don't want to react wrong to this, so just relax." Pulse coaxed him into sitting back.
Crap, this won't be good then. Stealthblade felt his spinal spikes clamp down tightly against his back, but conveniently hidden from Pulse's view.
"Your virus has always been manifested in where your inner skeleton connects with your processor. However, after it slipped out from your initial crash on Mars's surface, Ratchet and I believe it began to travel down your back, and reattach itself along there so it could escape our firewall's detection. Being programmed to destroy you, it caused a considerable amount of damage, while also keeping your body from detecting the cause."
"Since when can it do that?" Stealthblade demanded, tense and edgy despite Pulse's earlier warning to stay relaxed.
"We're not sure when it made the jump, but with our firewall locking it inside of you, we believe in order to retaliate, it began to evolve and mutate on its own, so it could counter our measure to keep it out of your consciousness and body. The very first jump may have actually been when it influenced Stormstrike through your spark and seized control of him. We managed to lock that off after installing another firewall within your brother, but once again, none of this is permanent."
"So Storm could still be taken over by the virus if anything happened to his chip?" Stealthblade glanced over to his sibling, who was now shifting uncomfortably.
Pulse nodded, and then continued. "What truly alarms us though is not the virus's power, but the incredible rate in which it grew inside of you. We had to upgrade your chip to keep it from further expanding, but unfortunately the virus has already manifested itself within thirty eight percent of your mainframe, most of that being your neck and back."
"So what does that mean?" Stealthblade asked hesitantly.
"Nothing we hope. As long as the virus is out of your consciousness, it shouldn't be able to control you, though it may block out pain, and make you unaware to certain injuries to your back."
"Great, I could get up, and then snap in half." Stealthblade growled.
Pulse sighed. "It also may mean you can take on the more ruthless side of your virus."
Stealthblade cocked his head, now truly confused. Stormstrike's confused thoughts echoed his within his head, and the two exchanged glances before questioning Pulse further.
"Take on the ruthless side?"
"In a manner of speaking. You will most likely be in control of your body, but you might be able to key in on the savage nature of the virus, and use it when fighting. It could be both beneficial if used properly, but it could also obscure your better judgment, and cause you to react more rashly and uh…like Node." Pulse struggled for a good enough comparison.
"Damn. Stealth acting like Node? Now that's a scary thought." Stormstrike shuddered, the memory of the last time Stealthblade was taken over by the virus flashing through his mind, and leaking into his brother's processor.
Node chuckled at the other's adverse reactions; clearly proud of the fact the others thought he was unstable and intimidating. Outspace shot him a glare, which he only met too eagerly.
"Your visor should also be able to switch freely between purple and red." Pulse shrugged.
"Really?" Stealthblade asked in disbelief. "That's uh…weird."
"Just the effects of the virus I'm afraid. If your virus manages to free itself any further from the chip's firewall, we may have to install a safety lock." Pulse's optics dropped at this, and then shifted unhappily over at Ratchet, who purposely didn't meet his gaze. The medics had obviously disagreed heavily over this decision.
"What will the lock do?" Stealthblade questioned hesitantly, not really wanting to hear the answer.
"After installation, if your virus ever seized control of your main motor functions, it would shut you down into a forced stasis lock, and you'd only be able to be reactivated with another bot's assistance, that is, if they knew how." Pulse cringed as Stealthblade suddenly flared out his body's spikes defensively.
What, that's…they can't do that to me. I could get killed if I suddenly turned on a battlefield! Stealthblade's battle mask clicked into place on its own accord.
Calm down Stealth, they said only if the virus takes over more of your system. Stormstrike tried to relax his sibling.
Stealthblade growled, and his super claws suddenly broke their restraints, and swung down over his already wicked fingers. Pulse took an uncertain step back, and Ratchet grabbed a wrench, ready to whiz it at the riled stealth soldier if he were to suddenly do the unexpected.
"Bro, it could also keep you from attacking one of us." Stormstrike sprang from his berth, despite the sudden tinge that shot down Stealthblade's side, telling him his brother was still damaged.
His visor locked onto the still present scars running across the elite's face armor, and he sagged, forcing his body out of battle mode. He just barely registered Outspace letting out a relieved sigh.
Even the gladiators fear me. He shrank in his seat a little.
You make it sound like that's a bad thing. Stormstrike teased, but his thoughts were rather tender.
"Sorry Pulse…I guess I was…just hoping for a cure, not a protective measure." Stealthblade rocked his head into his hands, his elbows on his knees.
"Yeah, I understand Stealthblade." Pulse put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Now why don't you lay down, and I can finish repairing you."
"Sure." Stealthblade complied softly, to the point where his dark voice almost sounded gentle.
He blipped out his visor as Pulse set to work, just wanting to escape within himself for awhile. Stormstrike considerately stayed out of his brother's head, sensing his need to clear his head. After a few minutes, the dark mech had slipped into a deep recharge.
Don't forget to vote for your favorite Jetfire if you haven't already! The winner will be included in the Stealthblade series.
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