Stealthblade internal clock told him in was five o'clock. Montana was still sound asleep in his hand, and she appeared to be dreaming. Stealthblade watched her uncertainly, trying to determine if she was having a nightmare. She gasped with fright suddenly, and Stealthblade gently shook her, trying to wake her up. Montana clenched her eyelids tight momentarily, before dazedly blinking them.
Her honey brown eyes looked up at Stealthblade as if confused, and then they lit up with revelation. She seemed to have forgotten where she was momentarily.
"You okay kiddo?" Stealthblade asked lightly, or at least as light as his voice could possibly go.
She nodded, wiping some sleep from her eyes. "Just a scary dream, that's all."
Stealthblade sighed, and then looked over at Pulse. The medic had drank the last energon cube about a half an hour ago, and he wasn't looking too good. Plus with his back being the area damaged, he couldn't perform any first aid on it himself.
Chain was fixated on the horizon, looking for any sign of the Autobots. Lightarch was at his side, but had Chain conveniently separating him from Stealthblade. The little recon bot's antics were beginning to get on Stealthblade's nerves.
Setting Montana down, Stealthblade climbed to his feet, attempting to loosen up his joints. He swung his head around scanning with his heat sensors, before picking up a familiar source.
"Stormstrike?" Stealthblade muttered aloud.
The group looked at him, surprised by what he had said, when suddenly a large gray, yellow, and blue mech swooped down, wrapping an arm around the stealth soldier.
"Hey big brother!" Stormstrike teased affectionately. "Whew, looks like you got in quite the tussle." He pointed out the scratches and singe marks that now decorated his frame.
"Where are the others?" Stealthblade quickly changed the subject from his battered body, and glanced at Pulse with concern.
"Almost here, I flew on ahead with Plasmagrade." He pointed up, showing Plasmagrade coming and then swoop over the trees and landed as well.
"Yo." Plasmagrade saluted with a smirk. "How is everyone?" His face plate grew more serious as his green visor caught sight of the injured Pulse.
"Alive." Pulse winced, attempting to straighten up. He failed miserably.
"Careful there Pulse." Plasmagrade's face was smirking, but his tone was strained with true concern.
"I don't need a kid like you telling me to be careful." The medic hissed.
Then Stealthblade's audio receptors picked up the other approaching Autobots. He turned in the direction where they were coming from, stiffening as his heat sensors detected six unfamiliar signatures accompanying the others.
Relax Stealth, it's just Optimus and the new guys. Stormstrike soothed as he picked up his brother's sudden alarm.
I know that. He snapped back.
Well you're awfully tense.
Really? I don't know why, maybe because the leader of the Autobots is coming, and I happen to look like crap at the moment!
Cool you jets. Optimus ain't like that. Stormstrike actually chuckled allowed, getting him a strange look from the others.
Then the approaching Autobots pulled into the clearing outside the tunnel, and Stealthblade couldn't help but place Montana on his shoulder. She smiled at him reassuringly.
Stealthblade's visor settled on a large blue and red truck, two Lamborghinis, one red, one yellow, a white and black Saleen s7, a SCC Ultimate Aero, and a red orange VW Tiguan with dark orchid purple designs running across it's frame. Behind them came the regular gang, including Aero Prime.
The large truck transformed first, turning into a tall and powerful mech Stealthblade swiftly identified as Optimus Prime. The two Lamborghinis followed suite, changing into slim and sleek Transformers with matching blue optics. But that was where all their similarities stopped. The golden yellow one had crests curving out from the sides of his helm, and black undertones. The red one may have had a black helm as well, but lacked the crests and instead had more fin like ridges swooping back sleekly, and had white undertones. His face plate was also lit up with curiosity, that his yellow counterpart failed to possess.
The Saleen s7 and the SCC Ultimate Aero also transformed, becoming two sleek and fair sized mechs themselves. The white and black Saleen bot's optics were a light lavender, surprising Stealthblade somewhat. To make up for his soft optic color though, the mech appears to have applied red paint marks running down below his optics himself. Sitting on his helm was a clear visor, that appeared to come down when fighting. Beside him was the SCC Ultimate Aero mech. His armor was opal white, and reflected soft metallic colors like purple, green, and blue. His optics were bright fuchsia, exactly the same shade as energon. Two sharp plates came up beneath his optics, and around the back of his helm was a disconnected visor, that seemed to be able to morph out in front to protect his optics. Similar to his counterpart, he had self painted streaks, only his were gold and ran down his helm. The pair swiftly flanked Optimus Prime, their optics glancing around vigilantly.
The last mech to transform was the VW Tiguan. He seemed a bit quirkier than the others, and had bright yellow green optics, that just seemed downright friendly. A large crest curved up above his optics, that gave him a slightly comical effect if it weren't for the strange segmented crests flaring out from the sides of his helm to balance out the effect. Beneath his light optics was a bar, stretching across the bridge of his nose, and then curving back up and melding seamlessly back with his helm. The two Lamborghinis took a step away from him, staring at him like he were going to explode at any moment. Lucky for them the red orange mech didn't seem to mind.
"Is everyone all right?" Optimus Prime asked deeply.
"Pulse could use some help." Plasmagrade pointed out, making the medic snort unhappily.
Ratchet materialized out from behind the new mechs, his expression a mixture between annoyance and concern. He quickly began to assist the injured medic, much to Stealthblade's relief. The stealth soldier then noticed all the 'bots gazes were on him. His helm spikes flattened nervously.
Stormstrike slung his arm over his brother's shoulder again friendly, his optics curved upwards indicating of his nonexistent smile.
"Optimus, this is my brother Stealthblade." The elite introduced cheerily, completely relaxed. "And don't let his looks deceive you, he's just a big sweet heart under that black twisted metal."
Storm! Stealthblade hissed silently, whizzing his head to stare down his sibling.
What, it's the truth? Stormstrike pretended to fail to see what he had done.
"It is a pleasure to meet you Stealthblade." Optimus Prime extended a hand.
Stealthblade took it carefully, not wanting to scratch the large mech with his claws. He was surprised to feel how gentle the Autobot leader's grip was.
"These are my men, Doubleedge and Torrent," He indicated to the bots that were currently flanking him, looking something fierce, "Sideswipe and Sunstreaker," He motioned to the red and yellow Lamborghini mechs, "and the newest addition to the earthen team Loosevalve." He finished on the slightly quirky mech that everyone seemed to be one step away from.
Am I missing something? Stealthblade asked his brother, indicating to the red orange bot.
Oh, he's just an inventor slash engineer. He was trained by someone called Wheeljack, and apparently that mech has a history of things blowing up in his face, so they think his apprentice is like that too. Stormstrike explained good naturedly.
So they think Loosevalve might spontaneously combust? Stealthblade questioned.
Basically.
His visor glowed slightly in amusement, catching Montana's attention, but she said nothing. Aero Prime then walked over, actually a good few feet taller than Optimus Prime, but somehow the red and blue bot still seemed more powerful.
"Chain, can you tell us exactly how this happened?" The silver, orange, and black mech asked.
The experienced mech furrowed his brow, like he was having trouble coming up with an answer.
"I suppose while we were monitoring you progress, the Decepticons slipped in, unnoticed." Chain didn't look happy with his conclusion, appearing to be mentally kicking himself for not being more observant.
Dawncatcher walked over to him, her optics glowing comfortingly. "Chain, it's not your fault." His frown straightened out, but his face plate became emotionless.
"So it sounds like Corevoid and his team finally joined up with Ultracon." Clawfist snarled unhappily.
Montana flinched at the mentioning of his name, making Stealthblade give her head a comforting pat. She smiled, pretending to be all right, but the stealth soldier saw right through it.
"How many 'cons are we talking about?" Torrent asked, his voice surprisingly light and friendly but at the same time containing a eerie tone to it.
"Their whole army, which is about...twelve." Stealthblade answered quickly.
The opal white mech looked at his lavender opticed counterpart, both harboring critical expressions.
"We certainly outnumber them, but not all of us are soldiers." Loosevalve spoke up, looking unsettling cheery.
"Stealth, you took down Shadowshifter, and shot Corevoid pretty good." Montana announced loudly enough for all to hear her.
"So that leaves us with one buried mech, and one unhappy 'con." Stealthblade nodded.
"I say we storm the base, and take it back from those Decepticons!" Sideswipe voiced, getting a nod of agreement from both his brother Sunstreaker as well as Breakshift and Spincycle.
"No, the Decepticons would see us coming and retaliate with ease. We need to get back in without being detected." Optimus Prime shook his head at the red 'bot's idea.
Stealthblade noticed Sunstreaker cross his arms irritably. "And how are we going to do that? We'd need someone to sneak in and cut off the alarm and NOT get caught."
Stealthblade's helm spikes flared up at the idea. It just might work.
"Whoa, Stealthblade I don't need to be Storm to read what's going through your mind right now! You can't possibly be considering going in there all by yourself!?!" Montana exclaimed in alarm.
All the Autobots' attention was focused on the stealth soldier again. He scooped up Montana, and held her out to Stormstrike, who quickly took her.
"I'll do it." Stealthblade affirmed, his dark voice only hardening.
"You sure about this Stealth? I mean, we can always figure something else out." Plasmagrade looked at the mech, mildly concerned.
Stealthblade merely nodded, meeting Aero Prime's and Optimus Prime's optics. The two leaders seemed to be in mutual agreement. He was the only one after all with stealth capabilities.
"Wait, there's got to be some other way! Stealth!" Montana pleaded from within Stormstrike's strong hand.
Ignoring the girl, Stealthblade paused for a moment.
"I should go now, the 'cons won't be expecting us to make a move this soon. And they'll also still be adjusting to their new surroundings."
"I agree, the sooner the better." To Stealthblade's surprise it was Clawfist that had spoken up.
"Just tell me how to deactivate the warning system." Stealthblade solicited darkly.
"All you need to do is cut the yellow wire beneath the control panel. That should disable all the alarms." Pulse weakly spoke up. "Can't believe the ridiculously simple design is actually coming in handy." He said more to himself, which got him a shush from the busily working Ratchet.
"Yellow wire, under the control panel, got it." Stealthblade rolled his shoulders, preparing to leave.
Montana, still desperate to come up with another plan, suddenly shouted out, "But what about your spark!?!"
This made Stealthblade stop in his tracks.
Hmm, didn't think about that. He glanced up at Stormstrike. Well, it looks like you'll be the first to know then if something goes wrong. Stealthblade mentally smiled, and then ignited his thrusters and took off, dropping his signature as he flew.
AND THEN ALL OF A SUDDEN STEALTHBLADE DIES! MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Wildshot! Are you messing with the computer again!" Ultracon demanded.
"NO! I wasn't messing with it. I was making it shorter." Wildshot said happily.
Sorry, my brother couldn't help himself.