Angel rises to her feet, wiping grass from the multicolored panels along her hip. She purses her golden lips, and turns, indignantly punting at a nearby tree. The branches shake only slightly, and she grimaces as the shockwave runs back into her foot.
"I didn't even want to COME here!" she shouts at the darkened jungle. "And NOW look where I am! Covered in DIRT, NO ship, NO way home, surrounded by BUGS..." Here, she reaches up and brushes a possible insect assailant away.
A response, however, waifts back down from the tree above her. "I MIGHT have to take offense at that remark," says Blackout, perched in his lightning bug beast mode on a branch.
"And yes I DID mean YOU. And Oblivion. Primus! He's the only IDIOT I know that can completely MISS a Red Alert!!"
"The lady doth protest too much, methinks... After all, we have what we need for now! Plentiful energon, fresh WATER..."
Despite his efforts, Blackout has hit a nerve. "If you don't SHUT UP, you're going to be missing a VERY IMPORTANT set of gears. If you aren't already."
"I'll have you know—"
"ENOUGH."
Angel spins around, finding herself suddenly face-to-face, or, rather, face-to-torso, with her superior, Subcommander Epitaph. Having not seen him arrive, nor recover from the near-fatal wound he'd only recently taken at Maximal hands, she is somewhat shocked to see him unharmed. She takes a step back.
"...Sir."
"Blackout, place a call to command, and give him the report."
"What?" Blackout shifts to his robot mode as if to comply, but gestures to himself as he does so, affectedly dramatically. "And why must I always be the bearer of bad tidings?"
"I'm not in the MOOD to argue with you, Blackout," Epitaph responds, and his posture makes this statement more than clear.
Blackout swallows. "As you wish." He taps his arm, activating his radio.
She was right.
As much as he hated it, it seems she'd been right. He couldn't hear her here at all. And it certainly wasn't for lack of trying. For over a megacycle, Swiftsting had been sitting, silent, searching his mind over for even a HINT of her signature "Whisper..." and... nothing. If it wasn't for the warning she'd given him before departure, he would have been concerned. But now that he realized the warning's implications, he felt simply alone. Quiet, as the mountains towered above him and spread out below him, staring into the planet's dawn as it grew out before him. Empty.
He is almost startled by the voice on his radio.
"Swiftsting, Sir... we've run into a bit of a problem..." Blackout.
Belying his actual emotions, the commander's response is characteristically gruff. "What?"
"The Maximals... Well, it's not easy, sir..."
"NOW."
"They seem to have taken the SHIP."
"SEEM to have?" Swiftsting opens a panel on his arm, and pushes a few settings, getting the other Predacon onto visual. "Epitaph. Where is he?"
There is a slight jostle on the other side before the commander is addressing the figure he requested.
"From now on, SUBCOMMANDER, you make your own report, or I give Blackout your rank."
Swiftsting hears the lightning bug perk up some at that particular statement, as Epitaph glowers and responds. "UNDERMANNED, Sir, we had no choice but to evacuate. Your aid, as always, was appreciated." He makes no move to veil the sarcasm in his reply.
Swiftsting could have executed an underling for a remark like that, but he couldn't afford to lose a Transmetal II. "Fall back into the jamming zone. It should, at LEAST, be operational by now. And wait for instruction."
He closes off communication, grumbles slightly, and places another call.
"Upgrade. I want to hear GOOD NEWS."
The face of his other subcommander, the hornet, appears on the screen. "Ticked Commander Cat, per your request. At least THAT one is as dumb as advertised."
"Tell me more."
"They WERE on the mission, like you SAID, but got a little sidetracked. Stalker."
Swiftsting's eyes widen visibly, for a moment, then he buries his face in his hand from the pure frustration of it. He'd thought that Predacon would become an asset to his team, not an aid to a Maximal raiding party.
"Make no mistake; she can still plug Maximals with the best of them. Just can't figure out her purpose. One minute, she's shooting the dog, the next, she's taking orders from the cheetah. ...That guy, now THERE is a waste of good technology." Upgrade rolls his eyes slightly.
"The short version."
"I have them tracked; that's a plus. So if they DO take the bait, we'll hear about it, first-hand. Near as I can figure, there's two places these Maximals are running scared of. First is the spider's little playground. Second is a spot called Bali, Indonesia."
"Do you have coordinates?"
"Oh...so much better. VISUALS."
Upgrade does his commander a favor by adjusting the picture, getting the information directly from one of his Yellowjacket drones. Beneath a grove of trees, in a drizzling rain, is the unmistakable form of an escape pod. Marked with the even MORE unmistakable Decepticon insignia.
"Beautiful."
Upgrade reappears on the picture plane. "I dunno about you, 'Sting, but I say it's time we made a few friends on this DIRTY, INFESTED ROCK." Upgrade looks a little smug. "Who's your favorite subcommander, 'boss'?"
Swiftsting nods. "Transmitting jamming zone coordinates. Take Krakken with you, and take up position there."
"...But..."
"YOUR drones; YOUR tracking device; YOUR duty. Inform me immediately if the Maximal movement pattern changes. This is a contact I want to make in person."