Ironhide would glare at Ratchet before punching the forcefield in anger....also in shame. “Drop the bubble Trail. Now. If I say my goodbyes it won’t be in a damn bubble.”
Trailbreaker dropped the forcefeild and silently walked out of the medbay with a slight limp. He didn't drop the feild because of Ironhide, he dropped it because of Ratchet. Ratchet's words cut Trailbreaker deep, the idea that Prime could die with potential to save him so near but still out of grasp was unbearable. He limped back to his quarters and pulled a lockbox out from under his recharge slab, inside was a half full bottle of Nightmare Fuel. Trailbreaker sat down on the recharge slab and started taking large drinks out of the bottle in a vain attempt to suppress the pain, both physical and mental, that he was experiencing.
Swindle scowled as the drones brought back another load of salvage. He figured it would probably be the last load he’d be able to retrieve before take-off and he still hadn’t found anything particularly special. No experimental weapons or priceless keepsakes, no combiner components, not even a lousy micromaster! Grumbling, he dispatched the drones one more time, hoping to squeeze one valuable acquisition out of this whole battle. Hot Shot quietly trudged from the door to where Prowl was standing. “What now?” he murmured to the strategist. ———————— Having finally made it to the halls outside the medbay, Roadbuster was confronted with a sobering scene. Autobots clustered around the sealed medbay doors, glancing wordlessly at one another for sone reassuring look. Visibly distressed medics and orderlies silently weaved their way among the stretchers and bodies to attend to their distracted patients. In a corner, someone had set up a card game, but none of the players seemed to be putting any thought into their playing. The Autobot commando realized how much hope was pinned on one ‘bot behind that closer door, and how fragile their confidence really was.
"We're leaving," Prowl muttered abruptly, his tone sharp as knife. He turned on his heel, placed a firm hand on the young Autobot's shoulder, and forcefully led him out the door, taking one last, hasty look at the disfigured form of his leader before slamming the access panel and closing the entry hatch behind him. Once outside the room, the disgruntled officer removed his grip from Hotshot and stalked past him down the corridor, plated boots thudding loudly against the steel flooring of the Ark. "Follow me," he called over his shoulder without so much as a glance back. "And prep your weapons."
Star Saber clenched his fists as he looked at Prime's slowly graying form. They were capable of saving him, and yet they couldn't at the same time because the damage was too great. He walked away before slamming a fist against the wall with a grunt, lowering his helm at the same time.
Once Prowl passed him, Hot Shot's bewilderment at being carted out of the medbay melted into consternation. "What are you planning?!" he hissed as he automatically began his routine check of his pistol and ignition gauntlets. "You should at least be back in there, since you're part of the 'inner circle.'"
"Not as much a part as you think, kid," Prowl murmured, checking his forearms and hips to ensure all his own gear was there. "And standing around a soon-to-be corpse and doing nothing about the situation but gawking is... petty. "So," he sighed, turning a corner and coming into full view of the Ark's loading dock, "we're going to do something about it. We're going to find whatever's left of the Matrix."
Hot Shot sighed and holstered his pistol. "All right, then, what are we waiting for?" he asked, transforming to sports car mode. "Lead the way."
Prowl looked down with some disdain at Hot Shot's flashy alt mode, then transformed into his own vehicle form - a sleek, sharp motorbike designed with speed and stealth in mind, but bulked up a bit by Prowl's personal modifications. He did as Hot Shot requested and rocketed off down the exit ramp and back onto the field, curving downwards into a segment of charred ground where the two Autobots would have sufficient cover as they speedily traversed the enormous battleground. "If there's anything to be found, your energy sensors will pick it quickly and from a considerable distance," the tactician spoke over their comms. "There's said to be Allspark power held in the Matrix, and if so it will not be easily missed. Nevertheless, we'll be depending on the Decepticons' own retreat to keep our tailpipes in the clear. Time is of the essence," he added, more than a little stern in disposition.
Hot Shot drove in silence for a while, trying to ignore the worst of the carnage around them. His mind wandered first to Prime’s condition, then to Prowl’s shorter-than-usual temper, and then back to what the leadership situation for the Autobots would be... if Prime was to die. Dragging his thoughts out if that speculative gloom to return to the real gloom around him, he checked his energy sensors. “Hey, Prowl? How close are we to the site of the battle?” he asked over comms. “I’m not getting any energy readings yet, and we’ve been driving for some time now.”
"Just over the ridge ahead. I chose a long route to keep ourselves hidden. But any second now..." Prowl's tires screeched to a stop as he skidded along the ridge overlooking the enormous crater that was the battlefield. Littered with the ruins of Autobot and Decepticon outposts, to say nothing of the thousands of bodies, it was as a grim a site as one would expect in a war of Cybertron's scale. But it was nothing new to Prowl. "Just give it a moment," Prowl muttered, more to himself than Hot Shot. His voice was steady, but noticeably tense. "Our radars should pick up some trace, some remnant... something."
Star Saber looked back after a few kliks and noticed someone was missing. “Um...where’s Prowl?” He asked Ratchet. “Shouldn’t he, you know, be here with us?”
Hot Shot pulled up next to Prowl and transformed, remaining in a low crouch. “I’m still getting nothing,” he quietly stated the obvious. “But I think I see where it all went down.” He cautiously pointed out to across the battlefield to a small clearing in the carnage, littered with bits of red, blue, and silver armor and dominated by some heavy scorch marks. “Only the Big Two could make a scene like that.”
Prowl also transformed and knelt beside Hot Shot, saying nothing. His visor glinted in the dual moonlight as he slowly turned his head, absorbing the whole of the post-battle scenario that lied before him. He focused on the spot Hot Shot had singled out and leaned out from the ledge, tapping the radar screen on his forearm as if expecting it to suddenly beep with activity. But there was nothing. "We need to get closer," he said, sweeping his legs over the canyon ridge and sliding his way down the slope with ease.
Hot Shot followed a little more slowly, as his auto-repair systems had done little more than stop the bleeding from his damaged knee. “Prowl...” he cautiously addessed his companion, “I’m still not seeing anything.”
Spitfire looked out at the battlefield and nodded. "It seems no one else is currently entering the ship." He commed Starscream. "Starscream, sir, we appear to have all personnel who are still functional on board and ready for transport. Ready for lift off." He than commed Skywarp. "Skywarp, is the Matrix secure per Megatron's orders?" ((@vatarian, @Grimlock22)) --- Chicane hobbled into the Medbay past the onlooking crowd and looked towards their leader. "Oh my.... it's worse than I thought." She turned to some of the others around her including Star Saber. "Do you think Prime will make it?" ((@TF rocks))
Star Saber looked back at her. “Kid, if Ratchet can’t fix him, what does that say?” He countered sadly. Jetfire didn’t know what else to say as he heard that and slumped back down against the wall
"It's a battlefield," he replied brusquely. "There could be shards buried in the rubble, or... or remnants scattered outside of the field." The moment his feet hit level ground, Prowl took off for the center of the scene, darting back and forth between stacks of rubble to avoid any Decepticon probes that may be lurking in the area. He didn't think to slow down so Hot Shot could keep up - the only thing on his mind was Prime.
Hot Shot tried his best to keep up with the Autobot intelligence officer, limping and stumbling his way through the strewn debris and viscera. Prowl's usually so calm, but it's like he's having a manic episode now, he thought. Could he really be this distraught at Prime's condition?
Prowl was now at the central point of where the final conflict had taken place, surrounded on all sides by heaps of shredded metal and strewn-about corpses. He slowed to a steady walk as he gingerly stepped over the bodies, keeping his optics off the ground to avoid recognizing any of the deceased. It was a macabre thought, but not at the forefront of his mind. His scanner still registered nothing. Not even a trace. "Impossible," he muttered under his breath, tapping aggressively at the holoscreen projected from his forearm. "There should at least be residue, or energon dust... something."
