Spitfire passed by a few bots, when he heard Starscreams rally to the Nemesis. They could potentially leave behind a few wounded, but he guessed it would be nothing major. They had lost mostly grunts anyways. He had by now reached the location Swindle and Starscream were conversing, and sat back, watching to see what Swindle would say.
Starscream let out a sardonic little laugh, and folded his arms over his chest. "Perhaps we will, Swindle. Perhaps we will. But I have more pressing concerns at the moment. And--" The Seeker pointedly stared Swindle down. "I'm sure you do too." With that, the Decepticon lieutenant spun on one tapered heel and strode towards the bridge. The aeronautics specialist in him insisted he once-over the piloting and other central systems himself before launch. Maybe even read over all flight-system report entries logged in the last few solar cycles, too.
Nervously gulping, Swindle retreated to his quarters. He allowed himself a moment to calm down, then booted up and deployed a handful of drones, in order to scavenge the battlefield before lift-off. Of what use are valuables and vital components to the dead and dying anyways?
As Grimlock and Roadbuster returned to Autobot lines the dinobot began to look for any extra medics that could be spared for Roadbuster. "Roadbuster, you wait here," He said. "Me find you medic." --------- Skywarp teleported from the lab to his quarters on the Nemisis and began to relax with a music palyer that had recordings of several popular cybertronian musicians in a playlist. Just as the seek had found him self at peace, it was broken by Starscream's message. Taking a momner to absorbe what had jus dicided to talk to the other seeker in person and ask what he was certian was a rather stupid question. That lughead is probably on the bridge he thought before quickly teleporting there. Once there Skywarp saw the red seeker and made a gesture for Starscream's attention.
Spitfire saw the two split, and shrugged. He went around the ship a little more, making sure nothing was out of the ordinary. He sat down on a storage crate, a few rooms down from the Soldier quarters, and started to sharpen his knife. He looked up as he saw Swindle's drones go by but paid no attention to them. He nodded as Soundwave passed by, and waited patiently for lift off to occur.
The Autobot commando grunted an affirmative and slumped down against a crate. Cycling off his optics, he pulled up an old war novel he had downloaded several megacycles ago and began to re-read it.
Starscream looked up from the diagnostics files he'd been reading, one optical ridge quirked. "Yes, Skywarp?" ................................. In Shockwave's lab, three bright eyes peeked out from a shadowy corner where their owner had been taking a stasis nap priorly, and a small voice asked-- "Is he going to be ok? Can you help him get better?" Flora's delicate servos grasped the edge of the shelf she'd been resting at the back of, and the small, ornate, odd-looking Cybertronian quietly slid off the metal and to the floor with a small, muted 'thud', the intricate, metallic skirt at her waist flaring like an umbrella with the landing.
"Forgive the stupidity Starscream," Skywarp stammered slightly. "But we're running away? Does that mean we lost....or....what?" Skywarp visably braced himself for any rebuke that might come his way.
For a moment, Shockwave had neglected to consider the presence of anyone else in his medical bay. He had grown so familiar to the presence of medical drones and various vehicons working that it had essentially become background noise to him. Hearing or seeing anyone else other than a patient in the med-bay was something of a surprise these days, so the emergence of Wheeljack's voice prompted a sharp head turn in the engineer's direction. One would say Shockwave was startled, if they did not know any better. Still, he considered the offer as his gaze returned to inspect the damage across Megatron's once imposing and sturdy frame. It would be a tall order for Shockwave to repair Megatron in a timely manner by himself, that was most certain at this stage, especially taking into account the searing wound that had nearly eaten into his very spark. "Yes..." He muttered, gently nodding his head as he returned his focus to Wheeljack. "Yes, I believe I will. We will need to completely amputate Lord Megatron's old leg and prepare some means of shielding his spark chamber until we can install a new chest panel. The damage done to it is too extensive for a simple patch job...there should be a laser scalpel in the desk behind you." It appeared that Shockwave had been reaching a point in his life where he was growing forgetful, as he nearly failed to recall that Flora had been present in the room the whole time. Had he considered that when preparing Lord Megatron for medical attention, he likely would have advised her not to be present in the event that Megatron's frame was in especially grim condition. Bedside manner was never Shockwave's strong suit before Flora was added to the Decepticon family, so to speak, though he knew full well how serious Megatron's battles could be and the manner of grotesque injuries he could walk away with. His gaze passed from Megatron and Wheeljack to the awakening femme, offering another courteous bow of his head to her as she had been adjusting herself. "I believe that we can, yes." He tipped his hand in direction of the former Autobot engineer. "I am uncertain of how soon Lord Megatron will be able to return to active service, but I am confident that Wheeljack and I will be able to restore Megatron to a stable condition, my child."
Wheeljack gave a sharp nod and followed Shockwave's instructions in silence, casting a perturbed glance at Flora as he made his way over to the science officer. He didn't much care for the little thing. "A scalpel is precise, but slow," he muttered, setting the item on the table next to Megatron. He winced as he observed the damage done to his leader's spark up close. "Perhaps you should deal with Lord Megatron's spark chamber. Too delicate for my hands. I'll handle the leg." From the toolkit on his back, the Deception engineer produced a mechanical bundle that unfolded into a large, nasty-looking buzzsaw. It seemed crude at first glance, but the tool was finely sharpened and would get the job done quickly and efficiently - though making a bit of a mess in the process.
Ironhide would be returning from the field. A bit injured but, he had to make sure the small team he had cleared the area first. The question now was..... "Where is Prime?" The black and red mech would wonder. He knew Prime would go face Megatron but, he lost track of him. Keeping track of a team and a leader is hard work. _________________________________________ Meanwhile Blackout would be on the ship. While he itched for battle he knew that the others could handle it. That and he was banned from the battlefield till his leg healed fully. So for now he manned the console.
Starscream's mouth twitched downwards at the edges, and he cycled his ventilation systems gustily. He was doing a lot of that today. He didn't much appreciate explaining himself twice. "Skywarp, there is much to be gained in knowing that when you have won all you can from a battle, fighting thereafter is only a waste of your own strength. We are not running. We are leaving. I forgive you for failing to understand the difference. It's why we serve different roles in this movement."
"I think he's going through to the medibay" says Blurr, passing by. --- Soundwave acknowledged Spitfire's presence, and passed on by. He then approached Blackout. "Blackout. Report" he stated.
"I mean Megatron is heavily damaged and the Autobots were advancing," Skywarp stated in a very matter of fact tone unusual for him. "And then you put out a retreat order so, from an outside perspective that isn't privy to all the facts it could easily appear we're running and that we lost-Err sir."
Starscream's tone grew dryer as he began to lose patience. "And we have a name for outside sources who operate on incomplete data and assumptions, coming to the wrong conclusion as a result. Do you know what it is, Skywarp?" The Seeker leaned in close, sarcastic smile spread so far across his faceplate it looked almost manic. "We call them 'idiots', Skywarp. Idiots. Now. Stop talking, and leave me alone." Starscream activated the faction-wide comms once again, drowning out anything else the other flyer had to say. "All Decepticon operatives participating in Operation Exodus-- You now have only two breems to reach the Nemesis and board, or complete groundside repairs and board. This is your second to final notice. Any individuals wishing to board post-launch will need comprehensive I.D. and a faction-recognized shuttle with system logs updated this lunar cycle. They will also need to file a docking request pre-launch, unless they are a member of High Command. I would advise anyone who needs to do so.... to do so now. Starscream out."
Swindle had made his way down to one of the Nemesis' hangars and now, having squeezed past two makeshift triage stations and a few put-off shuttle 'bots, stood in a relatively quiet corner. A moment later, the first wave of his drones returned with a load of salvage, including but not limited to several T-cogs, optics, one very intact but unrecognizable corpse, and trinkets of various semi-precious natures. A curt wave of his hand dismissed the drones to make another collection run, while he began to inventory his acquisitions, noting what could be re-purposed for Decepticon usage and what would be appealing to his other customers.
Spitfire whirled his sword around and went towards the Hangar bays. "Guess that means I am on ID duty." He swung into Hangar bay D and looked around. He noted that along with stragglers there were multiple wounded and Dying cons heading in. Most of them were Decepticons from what he could recognize. As he sat back, he looked to his left and saw a drone pulling in a corpse.... and the corpse was of Autobot origin. "Hmph. Which dumbaft authorized the collecting of Autobot corpses? Unless there's an Autobots on board..." He swung around the corner and pointed his sword up. "Alright, if you're an Autobot put your hands up and I'll make this quick."
Spitfire would be relieved—or immensely disturbed—to find only Swindle elbow-deep in another corpse, disconnecting the deceased’s fuel pump before setting it in a row of assorted items retrieved from the battlefield. Alarmed, the Combaticon whirled to face his challenger. “The Pit? What Autobots?”
Spitfire growled a little. "Hmph. I at least expected an Autobot to be the one scrounging up dead bodies." He pointed his sword to the Autobot corpse his drone was dragging in. "Alright. I'll be blunt, Who gave you the security clearance to drag these in?" He than pointed at the body he had in hand. "And who gave you clearance to desecrate the bodies of our comrades?" --- Chicane ebbed a little into unconsciousness but soon snapped herself out of it. "Ugh. Hey Jets, we there yet?" ((@TF rocks ))
"Wow you really are still the biggest peice of slag," Skywarp muttered under his breath as he warped back to his room to resume listening to his playlist of popular cybertronian music. He did have to wonder why of all things he'd included cybertron's most hated group ever, a group called "The Kiss Players."
