| abstract
| - JFX A large, flat, open space is surrounded by crudely constructed control towers, bunkers, hangars, and a passenger terminal. A quick glance around JFX Interplanetary Spaceport - named in honor of the Autobot-turned-Junkion who once led the faction - is enough to make anyone wonder how this species ever developed spaceflight. A collection of shuttles, Junkion and otherwise, litter the landing pad. Over the gates of the spaceport rests a monumental, roughly-hewn piece of grey translucent glass; a placard underneath bears an engraved image of Unicron's floating head, and this inscription: "Remember, don't play with Junkion Spacecraft: they'll put your eye out! The Autobot shuttle Alpha Trion touches down at the JFX, the Junkions landing pad. Junkions are litteraly scattered throughout the area, all seem to be waving flags in the air to direct the shuttle's landing, only problem is ... they're all waving in different random directions. Thrusters fire to allign the the craft as it drops down with a minor *THUNK* to the ground. A brief moment passes, and the bay doors open with a *HSSSSS* and the ramp unfurls to the surface. Peering out at the Junkions home planet, Impactor limps down the ramp still slightly damaged from his altercation two nights prior. His usual harpoon arm is bandaged all up with minor weldmarks in most areas, hanging useless at this side in a sling. The other is using a crutch to hobble down towards the landing pad. Barking over his shoulder, "Come on ya dopes, what'chya waitin' fer?" We've never needed flagwavers before now, and so First Aid is not concerned. The Protectobot walks down the landing ramp and onto planet Junk itself. He waves to all the Junkions. "Hi!" he says in a cheerful tone. He doesn't get to visit this place nearly enough. Crosscheck walks down the ramp, right behind Impactor and First Aid. It's his first visit on Junkion but he's pretty curious to see how they live here...and if they're as crazy as those on Earth. Looking at Impactor, "Why are we here yet?" Arr-K-Ick approaches the Wrecker leader and company, waving frantically. "Greetings sports fans, sorry but the Monsprincess is in another castle. Sadface, but it would be my pleasure to escort you to your travel destination!" Patchwork trails after the others, looking entirely too thrilled to get to see where they've arrived. She can't help but hope they have some unique rocks! Nosecone goes down the ramp as well. He's not really waiting for anything. "I'm ready when you are," he says to Impactor. He looks around at the Junkion scenery. "Now, here's a perfect place to drill," he says. If that's what's necessary. Broadside tromps on out, rattling the shuttle a bit as he heads down the ramp. Surveying the 'landscape', he slaps his hands together and rubs. Orange sheet metal, eh? Taking a spot behind the group, he awaits orders from Impactor. Topspin leans back in his cozy chair and uses the seat's springs to catapult himself forward, springing into action or something like that. The Jumpstarter rushes to join Impactor's side. He looks at the commander, "Did the medics clear you for duty sir?" he's glad his visor is hiding the look of concern in his optics from the bossbot. He pulls out his particle beam rifle and preps the weapon for combat with a few clicks and tugs of various buttons and switches the weapon powers up, "Remind me again.. why we're here on this Primus forsaken planet?" Whirl crowds out behind the other Autobots. His head is turned to the side and he's speaking, as if talking to someone still inside the shuttle. "No way, he should forget the full repairs, and just go with a quarterstaff! It would totally cool. Battle damage Impactor! It could be loaded down with all kinds of hidden weapons and gizmos and stuff like--urk!" He's cut off as he walks into Broadside, stumbling back a few steps. Then he looks around and sees that the other Autobots have stopped, and Impactor is like right there. "Uh...we'll finish this later!" He hisses back into the interior of the ship. "Yes, yes ... you'll git yer drillin' Nosecone. The rest 'o you dirty ruffians, git in line. Were looking fer building materials chaps. Not only does the Ark need refurbishin' but ..." the Wrecker leader pauses, forgetting that not all present have the required security clearance. "Well, the other half ain't so important. Broadside, get these guys in presentable Wrecker formations!" Impactor gruffs, looking to Arr-K-Ick. "Yeah, that's fine. We'll be moving out momentarily, as soon as ole tugboat over there gets some order 'round here." His attention pulled to Topspin, "Yeah, said stay in Medical Bay and git some rest ... but some mechs got things to do!" Fairway steps from the Alpha Trion behind Impactor and Broadside, limping a bit. He stops at the bottom of the ramp, puts his hands on his hips, and looks around JFX. "It is indeed good to be back among the Junkions on their homeworld," he says. Twin Twist rushes up to Impactor on the opposite side of Topspin like a mirror image, gesticulating irresponsibly with his bomb gun. "How're you feeling, Bossman? We gonna get our drill on?" "Oh CAPITAL!" Arr-K-Ick shouts, getting into line with the other Autobots. "Oh wait, I'm the el-capitone on this voyage!" The junkion scurries back to the front, giving Impactor a big smile. "If you'll all play follow the leader, we'll be on our way!" Whirl checks his surroundings and then the airspace to make sure he won't be inconveniencing anyone, then transforms and lifts into the air, ready to follow the convoy - and with this many Autobots there's always a convoy - from the air. Whirl transforms into his crazy 'copter mode. "Oi oi boss, ain't a tugboat! Okay Wreckers, c'mon, look pretty, we're tryin' to impress the Junkions." Broadside looms down at First Aid, and nudges him with a foot, "Single file, you too, non-Wreckers. We're lookin' for sturdy materials." First Aid as usual has no idea what the Junkion, in this case Arr-K-Ick, is talking about, but he nods as if he does. "Sure thing. Sounds good," he replies in a kind tone. The doctor does a good job of ignoring Impactor's little security slip and gets to work, heading towards one of the giant junk piles that create junk valleys in between the junk mountains. He then nods to Broadside, falling in line as requested. "Gnn..." As one the latter ones to leave the shuttle, a rather new face appears from outside of the shuttle. The bot seems to have a bit of trouble getting out - albeit he isn't even as big as Broadside, he's still one of the larger ones present. And he looks rather... clunky. The wheels on his legs giving him the most trouble. "I will never get used to these things." The bot mutters, taking the last steps to get outside before setting his optics on the surroundings. He'd scanned the data-archives on this planet, but he'd never seen anything like this before. "This place... is a mess." He claims, taking a few more steps out until he makes it to Broadside's side. "Ahem. I mean... lead the way." "Don't wanna go wandering off and fall into a pit trap or step on a mine!" yells Twin Twist enthusiastically in support of Broadside's 'single file' comment. "Let a Wrecker step on it for ya, we got big feet made for that kinda thing!" "That we do, Twister!" Broadside nods, and lowers his voice to Stalwart, "Yeah, it is, but you find the /best/ stuff here. You won't believe what folks throw away!" Topspin makes a face of disgusast, "We're on a salvage mission?" he mutters and puts his rifle away andleaves Impactor's side to be part of Broadside's line. He gives Twin Twist a nudge, "Talk about exciting, huh?" Crosscheck looks up at the sky but it's Impactor's mission after all. He's only here out of curiosity for Junkion culture and to make sure the wrecker leader doesn't die from a lasercore failure after his recent stop at the repair bay. The scientist gets in line behind the other but his attention is turned towards Arr-k-ick. Twin Twist shrugs optimistically at his counterpart. "Who knows, sometimes you find crazy space monsters out in this kinda place! An' after our new digs is built I bet there'll be all kindsa violence soon's the Cons find out where it is!" Fairway approaches Stalwart, a mech he has been looking forward to meeting face to face. "Stalwart, I presume?" He extends his hand. "We spoke briefly on the Autobot channel. I am Fairway, engineer." He sweeps his left arm out, gesturing at the hills of detritus. "Is this your first time on Junkion?" "So what -are- we doing here?" Patchwork voices as she tries to fall into the single file that seems to be being insisted on. "Wait, mines and stuff? That doesn't sound like fun...that sounds like work." "One man's junk is another one's treasure, I believe is the motto of this planet?" Stalwart inquires and continues to scan the area, taking quick notes on his fellow Autobots. He actually isn't used to having to look /up/ in order to speak to others. However, meetings with Broadside and Ultra Magnus now were quickly warping his previous sense of reality. His databanks register everything everyone is saying, and picks out what is important on a case-by-case basis. "Sir." He adds to his last sentence. "I have a cargo hold within vehicle mode that can carry a large amount of goods. So if needed, simply call upon me." He gives a single nod in addition to Broadside until he wanders off to the rest of the Autobots that are forming that semi-line Jazz tagged along reasons of his own...Mainly to get out of some paperwork that he dumped on Nightbeat's desk before leaving and because the Wreckers are usually a fun crew to hang out with. Wound up a bit tight but there is potential. Jazz walks in the back of the formation and keeps the quips to himself ont to disturb Sgt. Impactor. "Stalwart, indeed." The bulky bot gives a quick nod towards Fairway as comes to a stop near him. "And you are right. This is my first visit to Junkion. My line of work has brought me only to uninhabited planets. So far, Earth is actually my first contact with Organics." Impactor turns, observing his 'troops'. "Well if this ain't the sorriest rag tag bunch I ever seen in my cycles, but it'll have to do. Broadside, Topspin ... behind me. Twin Twist, Whirl ... cover the back. The rest 'o you bots ... keep in the middle 'n stow the idle chatter. This ain't happy make friend time, no matter how tedious the task at hand." Attention back at front to the Junkion Arr-K-Ick, he sighs. "Lead on." "I am a genius, Hahaha. Keep your elbows in and make sure all tray tables are locked and in the upright position. And heeeeere we ..." Arr-K-Ick motions with his hands north, "..GO!" Steel Mountains Here lie a range of mountains, only not in the usual sense. Mounds upon mounds of junk and metal have been deposited one on top of the other, creating towering mountains of random junk. Some seem stable, others seem to be in a constant state of shift. Avalanches are not uncommon. VH-64 Gazette hoves along above the Autobots, blissfully assuming things like 'single file' don't apply to him. Broadside feels his helm swell at being addressed as sir. "Great, cargo haulers are what we need. Aw Patchwork, you oughta' be happy, this ain't fightin', you don't like fightin', righ'?" Without waiting for a reply, he joins in behind Impactor and tries to keep pace with smaller strides. "In fact, if anyone's got cargo haulin' altmodes, best transform so we can start pilin' stuff in." "C'mon First Aid, quit screwin' around!" Broadside shouts back at the ambulance. Being silent was not much of a problem for Stalwart. He lines up with the instructions and tries to follow the best he can. And his stride quickly turns into the hum of his vehicle mode, as he follows Broadside's command. Stalwart bends down quickly and collapses his body into the form of a large looking amphibious military truck. The two energon-cylinders settle onto the trunk while most of his shape compacts into the cabinunit, and lower chassis. Crosschecks optical visor survey the area. This place is so different from Cybertron and Earth. Of course he mostly ignores Impactor's directives. He glances towards First Aid, "You know it would be just as easy to make new components than cleaning those..." Fairway starts sifting through the heaps of junk. He drags out suitable pieces of orange sheet metal with practiced precision and setp about trying to load them into Stalwart. Still wanting to get acquainted with his new comrade, he drops his voice to a whisper so as not to draw the ire of Impactor."A miner, yes? I traveled extensively - to both inhabited and uninhabited worlds - as a contractor for mining companies." Have you ever used the 723564 Cyrillium Deep Bore or any of the Hyperion hand tool line?" "No, but it could be work if someone steps on a mind!" Patchwork points out though she does grin rather widely as Broadside shares his revelation that it isn't fighting. "Um...I can maybe haul a little bit. But I don't have as much room as some others." she offers, not shifting quite yet. Twin Twist hurries along a while later, having been 'covering the back' by running a few steps and then turning around and shooting lasers at anything that looked suspicious. As Stalwart arrives, the vehicle mode undergoes a slight change. The two energon chambers upon its trunk begin to shift towards the sides of its main body, and settle just above the wheels. The metalic shield units split into a group of two and cover the two cylinders, whilst giving plenty of room to place other cargo: allowing Fairway to place the sheet metal into the space made available. "I am afraid I mainly used the old hand and metal-shovel. We had to be careful of volatile hydrogen pockets on our last mission." All is peaceful among the mountains... and then a tremor rattles and shifts a pile of junk... And from it emerges Monstereo, Junkion extraordinare! "Rise and shine, up and attem. The people are coming the people are coming. And we're still in the tub. Ah, we have guests." He brushes off a depleted scrubber filter from his shoulder spikes. "Fashionably late, tsk tsk." Arr-K-Ick hops along, taking twists and turns and playing helpful tour guide all the same. "And here is where babies are made! But you heard your bossbot, quit being such chatty kathy's!" Turning back to regard a minibot out of the grouping, "No, not really." Marching ever onward, the Junkion leads them up to Monstereo's position and the Steel Mountains. "And from here, you can see everything from Steel Mountain!" Arr-K-Ick waves, regarding the piles of scrap heaps. Sauntering up to Monstereo, he bows slightly. "Oh great Rey Monstereo jr., our guests have arrived ... and someone ate all the porrige! I'll leave them to your guidance, and be back to my duties ... what is it I do again?" Before anyone can answer he's skipping back along the way he came, disappearing from view. Impactor sighs, then regards Monstereo with a slinged arm wave. "Hey, we're here. This where the best scraps come from?" Looking back on his troops with what seems like apathy. First Aid runs to catch up. "Coming!" he calls out to Broadside. The doctor isn't a great sprinter, so you all better hope that nothing else catches his optic along the way. Slowing to a walk once he reaches the group, First Aid replies to Crosscheck, "Almost as easy, maybe, but this helps reduce the waste in the galaxy and might have capabilities we don't normally put into our components. Think of it as adding new blood to our technology." Secretly First Aid feels bad for the components he's 'rescuing'. He looks over where Arr-K-Ick is gesturing and ooohs and ahhhs like a good tourist does. Beachcomber catches up with the group, having been interrupted with a geological scan in the shuttle, then stopping every mile or so to look at some odd formation. He's very distracted. It's not earth, but it provides a great place to examin artificial structures and their geological effects. Jazz smiles and waves at Monstereo. Yeah it's been a loooong time ever since he came to Junkion. So busy with all sorts of stuff, still it's nice to visit the junkies now and again. Those guys dg culture...sorta. The large Amphibious truck is quick glad of the fact that he has been upgraded with better shock-absorbers and the ability to raise his wheels up and down individually. For the grounds the ragtag group of Autobots have to travel through aren't exactly the most solid grounds. After all... it is a planet of jump. Broadside shrugs absently at Patchwork, "Then you can help sort, little missy. Howdy Monstereo." He gives the Junkion a lazy salute, and shifts to one knee beside Fairway, sifting through one of the larger piles. Topspin stands in front of a rather large pile of junk, he tries to figure out how he's going to get that large piece of sheetmetal out from all that other stuff. First he tries to give the sheetmetal a few tugs with no hope of budging it. Then he suddenly turns around and runs back a few yards only to stop and transform into his cyber hydrofoil mode. The odd looking little ship revs it's engines and it goes rocketing toards the pile of junk and collides with it! The impact sends trash everywhere. The Jumpstarter transforms back into his robot mode within the blink of an eye. He smirks, "Thats using your head Topspin." Crosscheck frowns at First Aid's comment wondering if the protectobot didn't spend too much time with Beachcomber or Seaspray, "If you say so... I prefer to develop new technology myself." The scientist looks back at the mountain thinking it's an impressive sight. He waves at Monstereo as soon as he see him. After all he's the current Junkion leader which commands respect. Monstereo waves at the back of Arr-K-Ick. "Lousey typist, but he makes the best damn cup of coffee I've ever seen." He turns to the small army of Autobots encroaching on the hills. "Welcome to higher ground. Smoke em if ya got em. We've got miles and miles of all your houseware needs. Buy bulk! Please let us know if you plan to shoplift." Cybertronian Drill is fashionably late, as well! He's not exactly speedy after all, especially not in Drill Tank mode. VH-64 Gazette circles around the outskirts of the region, then spirals in for a landing so that he can transform and lend his great strength as a robot to the task. Whirl transforms into his reckless robot mode. "Well, what you guys waitin' fer? Start salvaging." Impactor gripes, handing out sheets with a list of materials needed. "Pair off into groups of two, and don't wander off too far. I don't wanna be playin' nanny to a bunch of minibots." Taking a seat on the nearest pile of junk, the Wrecker leader relaxes back. What? Crosshair's orders! Patchwork still isn't entirely sure what she's supposed to be scavenging for, but she'll mae the best of it. Turning, she looks over the others, not sure who she's supposed to pair up with, and so she waits, weight shifting from one foot to the other. Fairway chuckles. "Something to be said for the old ways, friend!" He stands on a heap of jetsam, hauling at a stuck piece of twisted steel. "And those hydrogen pockets are indeed a serious concern. I have seen more than one rig destroyed when the bore passed through one. I worked mainly on massive installations with augers miles long, designing control systems. It was always challenging, and those times were probably some of the best in my operating history." He can't get this bit of scrap free. It's trapped under a fuselage of some kind. Jazz looks around at the junk pile and begins to look for something on the list. As luck would have he finds a small pile of steel rods stuck under some pierced plates. The Autobot begins to work around the pile to loosen the rods and pull them out one at a time. "I plan on shopliftin'!" chimes Broadside, who then ducks at the brief rain of junk Topspin had caused. "Hey! Watch it, I almost got impaled with a... washing machine... C'mon Patchwork, this way." He leads her to a smaller pile and sets to work yanking out some sheet metal. "If anyone needs some help with heavy liftin', lemme' know!" "Heh, way to help out, boss," Broadside snorts at Impactor. "Let me assist." Stalwart comments and nudges against Fairways legs with his fender. "Please step aside, Comrade." He maneuvers himself carefully to the side of the piece of junk, then extends the small crane that is mounted on the top of its cabin. He clamps onto the piece and then shifts into reverse. The truck revs a series of time, getting his motors heated up... before he begins to pull with all the power it has. Sure, it may not be a fast bot, but that does not take away its own strength and weight advantage! Take that! Piece of junk! ~VREEEEE!~ "Hey, supervisin' takes a lot outta ya!" Impactor chimes, relaxed on his throne of junk. Looking towards Monstereo, "Hey, you got any of those fancy ener-drinks ... ya know, with the umbrellas in 'em?" "Never underestimate what you can learn from your friends," First Aid tells Crosscheck with a smile. Not a literal smile of course since First Aid has a metallic surgical faceplate, but you can hear the smile in his voice. The doctor waves to Monstereo, "Hi Monstereo. I've found several components that I think would be great for some of the others. Can you let us know how to pay for them?" He takes a sheet from Impactor and will get right on it soon enough. Beachcomber looks at the items he's supposed to find and turns it this way and that to read it. He frowns, "Man, this isn't a good way to work..." he sighs, "..but whatever, it's cool." He looks up and sweeps over the group until his optics rest on Patchwork, until Broadside takes her. Shrugging, he moves off to one of the edges where the group is spreading out. He clicks his sensors over to his more sensitive geological sensors and starts scanning the metals surrounding him. Quartz, zinc, iron...lots of that...even more of alloys. Monstereo probably could have had a fort built for the Wreckers ready made for them to take apart, ship back to earth, and put back together again themselves, but he's not one to impose his own tastes on others, especially when some of those others lack some fingers. The Junkion representative looks to the lounging amputee Impactor. "So sorry, all out of won-tons. Our last guests got all the frills. Hmm..." He looks around and then jogs to one of the taller piles... He looks up it and then gives it a good kick. It starts to crumble and avalanche. The Junkion expertly vaults and climbs and swims and scurries up the falling deluge of junk until a pair of Decepticon escape pods are uncovered, chained together. "Ah ha! How d'ya like them apples?" He climbs on top of one and puts his hands on his hips, looking to the bots. Cybertronian Drill finds a hunk of orange sheetmetal and tries to free it from the pile of junk it is sticking out from under. "This metal must have special properties," he says. "What? Oh! Okay!" Patchwork turns as she hears her name, and she half skips, half runs after Broadside. Leaning over, she begins to poke through the pile before she half-straightens and peers at her partner. "So, um...what are we looking nfor, anyways?" Not that she's waiting to find out as she pulls out a rusty hubcap before sending it flying off to the side. Frisbee! Impactor manages to get up, tossing the cane aside. Blasted Crosshairs, where the heck did he find a transformer sized cane anyhow? Limping over towards Nosecone, he peers down at the sheet. "Hrm, appears to be stuck. Broadside, Monstereo ... see if you can't give the feller a hand." Monstereo starts clapping. Avelanche. Okay... wait, what!? Trash avelanche! Stalwart is glad that his main body is so high above the ground; with those huge wheels of his forming quite the defense against anything that may come underfoot... Fairway though, he's not sure sure about. The piece of junk he'd been tugging on comes loose and quickly gets settled on its trunk. Most of the avelanche however lessens as it falls their way, not reaching most of the others - him and Fairway being quite a bit closer to the Junkion than others. But taking no chances, the bot nudges against the back of Fairway's legs and pushes him up onto his cabin. The remaining trash that comes falling past them ends up only half as high as his wheels... Impactor swears under his breath, "Alright funnymech, howabout gettin' over here and helping out a little? I MEANT assistin' with the removal of this sheet!" Crosscheck would grin back at First Aid but he's as mouthless as the protectobot. He doesn't respond anything but he starts to wander around examining various items he picks on the ground. "It's amazing all the stuff that you can find here. I wonder where they found all that stuff?" he tells to no one in particular. "Anything we can use to build a new base, Patch', sheet metal mostly," Broadside answers, gazing down as a junk surrounds his feet. He glances up at the escape pods, Impactor's request to help Nosecone going unanswered for the moment. "Hot damn, check it out Imp', better than a fruity ener-drink, yeah?" Impactor says, "No, now git over here!" (First Aid overhears Crosscheck's comment and says, "I don't think anyone really knows /how/ the stuff gets here. Just that it does. One of the mysteries of the universe, I guess." He shrugs and scans the sheet Impactor has given him. "'New clips for Swoop's wings'?" he asks. "Did they break /again/?" First Aid looks up just in time to see all the debris crumbling downwards. He jumps backwards out of the way, peering at the escape pods. "Oh my. Is... there anyone in there?" he asks Monstereo, already getting his medical tools set just in case. Broadside gits over there! "Okay okay! Step aside Nosecone, let a real mech handle this." The carrier/jet stoops to get a good handle on the bit of sheet metal poking out, and yanks back with all of his might. Topspin picks the steetmetal he worked so hard to get free. The Jumpstarter tucks it under his arm and goes running up the side of a very large pile of junk. Once at the top, he holds up the sheetmetal high above his head with both hands and leaps off the junk pile. Somehow, the crazy Jumpstarter is gliding around the survey area, "Woo hooo, check me out!!" he calls out to his teammates as he glides around while everyone else is hard at work. It doesn't seem possible but, somehow the jumpstarter has did it! Beachcomber finds something of interest with his geo scanners. Tapping his goggles, he says, "What is...." he kneels down and digs for a moment pulling shards of metal out of the 'ground' and finally yanking something boxy looking from the ground. "...this?" The yank was too hard and sends him tumbling back on his skidplate, but he got it out. Just as he lands, the box's screen flickers to life.
* music plays* Hey KIDS, what time is it?!' 'IT'S Howdy doodie time!' Beachcomber puts down the box and steps away. "Woh....freaky." The sheet metal indeeds comes lose, but so does the ground underneath them. Everything in a ten foot radius starts pulling towards the point of the sheet's release, a gaping hole in it's wake. Anyone nearby is suddenly being dragged by the scrap itself into it. Fairway climbs up onto Stalwart's cab as sheets of garbage calve off of the pile to slide down toward him. He has been here often enough to know how to avoid being crushed beneath an avalanche of garbage, though he isn't so relaxed here as to be careless. As the junkslide subsides, he jumps from Stalwart's cab and onto more solid ground. "Are those escape pods?" He eyes the objects Monstereo has unearthed. "Those could be quite useful. If the flight computers are still intact, we could glean data from them. "So it would seem. And perhaps there are fuels left within it's engines." Stalwart lowers itself a slight bit to allow Fairway to settle onto the ground more easily, and soon is driving over the new layer of junk towards the escape pods: probably with a lot more easy than a bot should be having in this kind of environment. Monstereo chuckles and reaches down, unlocking the chain that binds the pods together. He then activates the hatches to open them. And what d'ya know?more junk spills out of them as if they were pinatas. "Ain't nobody here but us chickens." He leaps off and transforms in midair to Monster Truck mode, hitting the spilled junk hill and driving back down towards the Autobots. The Junkion robot makes a clickety-ratcheting series of sounds as he transforms into the disguise of a monster truck... labelled Monstereo. Are you fooled? ;) Impactor is one of the unlucky Autobots caught in the tragedy, soon falling down a long shaft and hitting rock bottom. Groaning, the Wrecker leader tries to activate his commlink ... but it appears to have been damaged in the fall. "Aww scrap, anybody down here?" he roars, it echoing and booming off the walls. Crosscheck nods at First Aid, "Indeed but the mysteries of the universe reveal themselves to those who listen... at least that's what I read in an old and strange database." He looks around once more, "You know...I think we could build a cybertronian body from scratch with the stuff we could find here... save for the lasercore of course..." Broadside promptly loses his footing and gets dragged into the pit with Impactor. "Whoa! Look out boss!" Thank Primus he doesn't crush poor Impy, though he comes very close, braced above his leader as if playing Twister. "..." The current only cargo transport makes his way up along the way and seems... disturbed as Monstereo opens the pods, causing more junk to fall out. He quickly revs up to get out of the junkion's way - who is sliding down the slide of junk - and soon after reaches the pods. "Fairway, do you see anything salvagable in there?" Cybertronian Drill is buried under junk and drills his way out. As he emerges, a few orange panels are dragged along with him. Yay! Jazz hears some junk off to the side and Broadside yelling after Impactor. The Autobot heads towards the disturbance carefully to see what the sarge and his solider has gotten themselves into. "You guys allright down there?" The gaping hole pulls in quite a bit of junk, closing back up as soon as it opened. Only the slightest of cracks remain, but nothing can be discerned from looking into it. Beachcomber steps back, just as ground under his feet gives way and empties him into darkness. The bad point, he's falling. The good point, he doesn't have to listen to Howdy Doodie anymore. "Ahhhhhh!" and he lands hard on top of Broadside and Impactor, luckily, they broke his fall. First Aid nods to Crosscheck. "Maybe that's where baby Junkions come from." He is just about to step over to the escape pod when suddenly part of the ground collapses, taking with it several heroic Autobots. Oh no! First Aid rushes to the edge of the pit, getting on all fours and looking down into the well. "Impactor! Broadside! Beachcomber! Are you alright?!" Patchwork had stayed back near the pile she and Broadside had been working on, watching as the larger bots went about trying to pull out the sheat metal...and then as the bots are being swallowed. "Broadside! IMpy!" she calls, optics widening as she twists about and hurries towards the sink hole. "Oof, watch it ya' damn hippie!" Broadside snaps at Beachcomber, and tries to stand full height, but it's not easy in such a cramped spot. "Just peachy!" he calls up. Impactor groans again, "Broadside, git offa me right..OOMPH!" Beachcomber lands on top of the pair, causing much pain to his already damaged arm. Squirming out from underneath, the Wrecker leader looks around. It appears they are trapped in a thirty by fifty foot room, Broadside's head would touch the ceiling if he stood up at full heighth. In complete darkness, Impactor silently curses himself for being injured. Otherwise, a simple transformation could solve this dilemmia. Fairway kneels over the pods. He activates his combat visor and scans the junk bursting out of them. "Negative. The pods themselves are in fairly good condition however. They could certainly be salva - Primus!" The junk gives way and three Autobots fall down a huge hole! He dives for Beachcomber, hand out grasping, and tries in vain to catch him before he falls. "Oh dear! Impactor, Broadside, Beacmomber . . . are you all right? What is your operational status?" He turns to his new comrade. "Stalwart, could your crane reach them? Monster Truck honk honks. "Children, do not move another inch closer to that spot. Tut-tut. Safety dance! Be calm. Be cool. Be the ball." Jazz looks up at anything that might look like a crane or arm or something to hang from...no luck except...He turns back to those steel rods he was pulling out. Jazz grabs one of those long steel rods and begins probing around the center of the disturbance...Maybe he can get the whole to open a bit or move some of the not too heavy stuff. "Beachcomber!" Patchwork adds, not one to leave anyone out, as she drops to a knee near the crack. "Are any of you hurt?" She picks up several hunks of junk, tossing them over her shoulder. "We'll get you out!" Not tha the medic has any idea -how-...but they will. They have to. "Negative. The crane is not long enough." Stalwart strangely enough not been aware of the three bots falling down. His sensors aim at the three of them and scan the hole for the Autobot signatures of those who are missing. "It can only reach as low as the ground. I believe we should find a different mode of retrieving them." Stalwart seems rather... calm about this. He's not moving from his place either. "They will be fine. It's just a hole..." Yes - he's seen this occur many times to fellow comrades who were new to this line of work. Crosscheck was about to rush to help the other autobots when Monstereo's advice stop him dead in his track. "Hum...he's right, the place place could crumble if we move." He looks around, "I'll get back to the shuttle and get some medical equipment back with me in case they need it... Be careful while I'm gone." Slowly and carefully, Crosscheck climbs down the mountain and eventually disappears from sight. Beachcomber topples off of the pair as Broadside tries to stand. "Hey, watch it man!" He rubs the back of his head and gets up, leaning up against some crumbling junk wall. "Well..." he clicks on his feet lamps illuminating the bottom of the hole. "...never a dull moment." "Hrnn," Broadside murmurs, frowning as his helm scrapes the 'ceiling', "Sorry boss... now what?" The only thing visible of him is his glowing red visor. "I'm sure this happens all the time here, yeah?" "How am I supposed to know?" Impactor replies, trying to find his way around in the dark. "Who else is here? I heard and /felt/ a third body fall!" "A peacenik," Broadside groans. Beachcomber waves a hand, but probably hard to see in the dark. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that. Don't worry though, I'm sure the others will get us out." He wiggles his feet, shining his headlamps from his alt-mode around. "Or we'll just dig our way out?" Monster Truck transforms and 'tests the waters' gingerly, using experience as his guide of what is safe and what is not so safe by the feedback of his every sensor. "Don't panic." He ponders this problem. If it were Junkions down there, they could get themseves out by now. He then shrugs and takes out a chain. He ties a hunk of sharp jagged edged scrap to one end and starts fishing... throwing out the line at scrap to punch through it, then yank it off the sinkhole ground covering the Autobots. Dig from above. "O we're huntin and a-fishin on the Reel Hunting & Fishing Show." The rugged monster truck legend in the making makes a clickety-ratcheting series of sounds as it transforms into the Junkion robot Monstereo. Lights. Directly pointed in Impactor's optics, when he had just gotten used to the dark. "AHAYA!!!" he screams, clutching for his face with his one good arm. "You dolt! You blinded me!" Out of nowhere, a distant light comes on further down the corridor that the three of them have 'stumbled' into. "Don't you wish you had that fancy drill of yours right about now?" Stalwart muses towards Fairway. "Didn't we have an Autobot with us who could drill these guys a tunnnel out?" But it seems that Nosecone would still not get to be useful today, as Monstereo already was on the job. "I think the Junkion has it handled. Let us continue our search - as ordered previously. We do not want to end up empty handed within a mission this simple, no?" First Aid squints. His night vision is only average, but he can at least hear the people down there. "Is anyone hurt down there? Do you need a flashlight?" First Aid draws out his photon pistol and sets it to a setting where it can't harm anyone (aka 'Medium'). Cybertronian Drill tries drilling a hole into the pile, very carefully. He doesn't want to drill his friends! Broadside peers down at the faint light coming from the 'corridor', "Hmm ... what's that?" He crouches a bit to shuffle towards it - but doesn't want to risk collapsing the pocket, seeing as he keeps scraping along the walls, "Hippie, go check out that light. Naw 'Aid, no one's hurt! Right boss?" The drilling causes another semi cave-in, sending down thirty to fifty pieces of random junk down at the three Autobots. Topside, the ground sinks down a foot or so ... the crack remains the same width. Fairway stands with his hands on his hips and watches Monstereo junk fishing. "Something similar happened to me on my first visit here," he says to Stalwart, "These junk piles are dangerous. The surface of this planet is positively riddled with such sinkholes. If you don't know where to put your feet, you can find yourself at the bottom of a 900 foot shaft and facing a walk through a maze of catacombs that could go on for decacylces before you reach an egress to the surface." Topspin looksd around a bit confused as the bossbot and the big guy seemed to have disappeared when he wasn't looking. So he decides to cut his joy ride short and glides on down for a landing. As he touches down the momentum causes him to break into a bit of a run as he drops the sheetmetal. After a moment of getting his bearings back. He walks over the big hole in the ground and tries to look down, "Hey.. did this boobie trap, catch a couple of boobies?" he teases, "Hold on tight guys.. let me grab somw rope from the shuttle and I'll throw you guys down a repel line." "I don't like the sound of that, Fairway. Can't we...dig them out, or something?" Patchwork wonders as she straightens, hands settling on her hips. The femme's fingers drum against her armour before she sighs. "This is -not- a fun mission...even without fighting!" she calls down into the crack for Broadside's benefit. Impactor shakes his head. "I am, if ya count bein blinded by the hippie!" Looking up, one small piece of scrap hits the Wrecker leader's head and bounces off. "Oww, that smarts." Then Mr. Purple-pants realizes it's only the first in a long series. Scurrying quickly to his feet, he charges towards the faintish light. "CAVE IN, RUN FER IT!!" Beachcomber sounds surprised and kills the light. "Sorry, sorry!" He can see better this way, he just thought the other two wouldn't have that fancy of sensors. "Hippie? You know what big guy, 'you' go check it out. If there's something down that wants....oh slag..." and hoofs it. "I spend a few stellar cycles in statis-log once having been caved in once. I realize how nasty such cave-ins can be. But with this many 'bots around, they will be out in a jiffy." It seems that the reason the transformer is so calm about this all is because he's had to deal with having to wait such things out before. "Patchwork, the Junkion is already digging them out, and it seems that the driller has finally gone underground. They will be retrieved soon enough." Turning about and beginning to slowly drive off, looking for more of that orange sheet metal they need so much. Monstereo just keeps a cool head and continues junk-fishing, unaware the fallen party underneath is on the move. "Macho Man says Dig It!" "Sorry femme," Broadside calls back, "Ya'll can keep junk-diggin'! Ain't so bad-AGH!" He's the last to leave the collapsing pocket, shuffling along after Beachcomber, half crouched as he moves. Eh, better than being hundreds of miles in the sky. First Aid is unable to do much to help in a situation like this other than wait for the Junkions to dig their way down. The Protectobot wishes Blades were here since he can actually fly. Luckily nobody in the well sound like they're particularly hurt. As Impactor limps hurridly into the new corridor, the lights grow in intensity to reveal what seems like another collection of scrap metal. Only this room actually has plated walls and a ceiling. On the otherside of the room is a door with a red 'EXIT' sign above it, hanging crookedly and held on by duct tape. Through the doorway, one can percieve illuminated steps that lead upwards. Cybertronian Drill transforms as there is a slight cave in from his drilling. "Oops," he says, rubbing the back of his head. Unfolding and shifting, Cybertronian Drill Tank takes the shape of a robot. Broadside isn't terribly surprised there's a room down here. They're Junkions, they don't need a reason. "Hey, the exit!" he blurts, and bypasses the scrap metal, going straight for the stairs. Beachcomber rushes in and next to Impactor. He looks down the hall and says, "No kidding..." Or at least that is what it looks like. He walks up the steps but carefully in case of any more surprises. He'll let Broadside and Impactor go first though. No sense risking his hippie neck. Monstereo calculates and recalculates. It's like playing Ker-Plunk. He has to choose his next piece removal carefully to try not to cause everything to crumble. He makes a good hole at the already partially collapsed sink and stops to cautiously look down. Patchwork huffs softly at the bot that tries to reassure her, but doesn't argue the point again. "Hopefully it doesn't take that long..." When all three of the Autobots enter the room, the bright lights dim considerably and are replaced with red warning lights flashing like a christmas tree. The left and right sides of the walls push inwards, the piles of scrap in front of them obliging and get raked into the middle. The doorway they were hoping to enter has closed. Impactor groans, abjectively tapping his commlink to try to get it to function while pushing up against the left wall. "Broadside, hold back that right side! 'Comber, try to raise Monstereo on the appropriate frequency!" Fairway approaches Monstereo. He's wearing a worried look, and his hand is on his chin. "Is there anything I can do to help, friend Junkion?" He is blissfully unaware of the predicament his friends are in. Beachcomber looks left, looks right. "Primus! Uh...uh yeah, right." He stands in the middle of the room, just in case he can't get Monstereo on the horn. He taps the side of his helmet activating his com unit, "WHO THE SLAG BUILT THIS!" Broadside bellows, none too happy about getting crushed. Standing full height, he plants both hands on the right wall and throws his shoulder into it, servos straining hard enough for grinding gears to be heard. Monstereo arches his brows up, at a loss. "Uh, get David Copperfield on the phone? Where'd they go?" He points down to the empty hole where the fallen Autobots should have been. He then pauses and touches the side of his helm. "Hang on, hailing frequencies open..." He listens to something. "Oh ... my... gawd." He turns to the Autobots on the surface all safe and sound. "It appears our exporing frinds have found their way into one of the Trash Mashers... and they've triggered a crush sequence." Impactor has his back against the wall, the one good arm applying pressure above him. This is definitely not what Crosshairs had in mind when relegating him to 'taking it easy'. The two Wrecker's efforts do not go in vain, as they slow the wall's progression from meeting in the middle and flattening them. Somewhere, Rack 'N Ruin are already proclaiming their new reign over the Wreckers. "I -told- you this wasn't good!" Patchwork clearly feels vindicated and a mild sense of panic all at the same time. "Where are they, Monstereo? Is there a way to turn it off? This can't be the first time this has happened, you have to have a failsafe...right?" Fairway shakes his head, having no idea who David Copperfield is. "Primus! How can we stop it?" He says, becoming even more worried. "CAN it be stopped?" "Fraggit, just get Nosecone to drill us out!" Broadside barks at Beachcomber, "Tell 'em to dig! Just dig! Nothin's gonna' cave in now!" Nosecone immediately snaps-to and transforms back to Drill Tank mode. He drills furiously, trying to reach his friends before the trash compactor compacts them! That's where all movement of looking for more sheets stop with Stalwart. Allies... in danger? A loud screetch can be heard as the truck comes to a halt, then a loud rev as he quickly makes his way back to the allies he still has at the top. "Wait... what? Trash Mashers? What in the...?" His eyes quickly scan the ground - but of course, his geological sensors pick up fairly little. Too much interference, and in this mode there's not much he can do. "Can you pinpoint the transmission, Monstereo... and... make a BIG hole?" "He tunnels in, could bring the whole place down on top 'o us Tugboat!" Impactor snarls, losing his foot hold and stumbling forward to collide with Beachcomber. The left wall begins to push in at an accelerated rate. Monstereo patches into the masher rooms speaker system. ~crackle~ He starts walking around, cross referencing his memory with the most up to date topographical survey of the surface of the planet... a few months old. Beachcomber kicks some wreckage aside and grabs a huge pole...for his size. Maybe it'd make a good tenis racket for Broadside. He braces it against the closing walls and tunes his com unit for a full broadcast. "He's right...oof!" he goes spilling down and into the junk. His pole thing snaps in half from the closing in walls. Beachcomber disappears in the piling in muck and garbage, "Heeeeeelp meeeeeee!" "I'll... I'll hold it up!" Broadside assures, growing more panicked by the nano. His visor blinks at the speakers, "SO GET US OUT, for the love of Primus! Eh? Hippie!" He frees up a hand, turning his flight deck ie back against the wall so he can try to fish Beachcomber out. Monstereo leans down and seems to search the junk onder foot as he walks. "Oh dear oh dear... where oh where has my little dog gone?" Impactor picks himself up, and attempts to help Broadside. The situation doesn't look good though, if the Junkion wastes anymore time they could get smashed ... and not in the stumbly fun way. "Monstereo!" Patchwork urges, weight shifting from foot to foot, trying to hold herself remain patient but ready to dive in and dig the moment she learns where to dig. "Hurry!" Beachcomber pokes a hand up out of the garbage and pushes some aside so his head pops up. "Any time now! It's getting cramped in here." For now, Beachcomber is stuck in the piling garbage, damn his smallness. Topspin comes running back after quite some time since he got lost a few times in this darn place. He looks around, "Hey, where'd the hole go?!" he call out to whoever is still in the area. But it does make him wonder if this isn't the location he's supposed to be. Broadside is the first to get forced into a coiled crouch, metal groaning as it's pressed. "Well, it was nice knowin' ya' boss. And hippie." There's a Star Wars joke around here somewhere. Monstereo stops and stoops lower, starting to doggy-dig in the junk under him , then fishing his hands around rummaging. He picks up a small box with a big red button on it.... and a pair of frayed wire ends sticking out of the bottom. "The Emergency STOP control. I knew we left one around here someplace." He positions a finger dramatically over the button... that isn't attached to anything... And pushes it. Down below somewhere, the garbage masher walls stop moving with a hiss. The revolving light turns yellow. Drill Tank is digging a parallel angled tunnel. So that the others can climb back up more easily. Thanks to being a three-wheeled vehicle, it's possible for Stalwart to distribute his weight semi evenly. The moment Beachcomber's hand pokes outside of the garbage, the large truck is already there, and settles its sturdy clamp around it. He's about to pull as he hears the sound of the machine below stopping through the hole that has been created. "Ah... a sound that eases my heart." The 'bot claims and quickly sets in reverse, pulling Beachcomber's hand - and hopefully the rest of him - out of the small hole that could be getting bigger any second now. Impactor places both his feet on the opposite wall, getting crunched inwards into a ball. "Yeah, likewise Tugboat. Never told you this before, but I ..." the Wrecker leader trails. Aww screw it, they're about to go offline anyways. "I uh, always liked you the most." Squinting his optics tight, he prepares to be smashed into teeny tinty bits. Then...nothing. The red lights fade and five way to yellow ones, and best of all ... the walls stopped moving. Fairway stands ready to try and help Beachcomber, but winces as he bends over. His leg is hurting again. Perhaps he was wrong about the cause of the problem? It shouldn't be giving him so much trouble. "Beachcomber, friend, are you intact?" Beachcomber pauses, looking up at the walls as they dramatically close in, then stop. Beachcomber shouts out in joy, whooping for all his worth! His hand is caught and is pulled out with a rough pop. He lands with a garbagey thump, bits of metal and other garbage covering his body. The mini-bot coughs and winces at some leg damage that fizzles and pops. "A bit pressed, but ok, thanks man." He turns and looks down the hole he was just pulled from, "Dudes! Are you two ok down there?" Combat: Fairway runs a diagnostic check on Beachcomber "Really boss!?" Broadside exclaims, lasercore swelling happily. If only he could live to gloat about this to his Wrecker buddies - oh wait, what's this? "It stopped!" He vents a deep sigh of relief. "Uhh, sorta'. Someone press the reverse button or something, can't budge!" Impactor gets up from the scraps, brushing himself off with the one good hand he's got. Peering closely at Broadside, "Not one word to tha others, or help me Primus ... you'll be waxin' 'n shinin' my boots come hell or high water!" Broadside just pouts. "Stand aside, keep away from the new hole." Stalwart claims and adjusts the positions of his wheels to distribute his weight even further as he very /slowly/ goes back to the area he'd been able to grab Beachcomber from. "You two down there. If possible, stick up an arm or something. I'll drag you out." The bot tries to reach the cabin-mounted crane down as far as he can get it, and it actually gets a bit below groundlevel... but the bots below WILL need to do some of their own work there, that was for sure. "Just grab onto the clamp at the end!" Monstereo gives the button a counter clockwise turn and the walls start reversing, opening away from eachother. "Whew." Beachcomber climbs back out through the hole and limps away from it, not wanting to get in the way. His leg has a nice gash in the lower section from the pressing garbage. Otherwise, he's dirty but fine. He drops down onto a nice sized chunk of rusting junk and looks at his leg. "Awww man, I just had myself buffed before coming here." Cybertronian Drill backs out of the hole he's dug when the others are coming out. Phew. "Not. One. Word." Impactor states dryly, reaching up for the clamp. Patchwork is practically dancing in place as Stalwart moves to haul them out of the hole one by one. "Are you all okay? Are you hurt?" she wonders, hands clenching in front of her as she eyes Beachcomber first as he is extracted. "Well done, friend Stalwart," says Fairway, "You're an asset to the Autobots already." "Yessir," Broadside mumbles, grabbing the clamp as well. With a bit of climbing, they were topside once more. The clamp tightens a bit 'too' firmly around Impactor's hand the moment it comes into reach, and he quickly starts getting pulled out of the ground. He was larger than the previous bot, and quite a bit heavier, so the bot tries to be as careful as possible. "Lay down, Impactor." He pauses. "Lay down on my trunk, and do not move unless you absolutely have to." Only after he's dragged him up does the crane adjust and reach back in again to retrieve the last bot still down there. Being appreciated is... appreciated by the bot of course. But he still wants to get this last one out - thank-yous can be dispensed at a later time. Beachcomber shakes his head at Patchwork. "I got my leg cut down here, but nothing a good welder couldn't fix." He smiles and lifts his leg, letting the medic take a look. Combat: Fairway runs a diagnostic check on Impactor Monstereo tosses the ESB aside, it disappears back into the junk-strewn ground. Impactor reaches topside, a hell hath no fury look on his face. Ignoring Stalwart's reccomendations, the Wrecker leader paces about surveying what little they accomplished on salvaging. "Well, some things can't be ah'verted. Listen up mechs, collect as much as you can and return to the shuttle. I just hope this is enough." Stumbling off, Mr. Purple-Pants carries one lone I-Beam in his arm. "Hopefully my drilling didn't cause...too much trouble?" Nosecone asks nervously. Unfolding and shifting, Cybertronian Drill Tank takes the shape of a robot. Stalwart grumbles a little as he can clearly hear the ground underneath him make rather uncomfortable sounds. But he was lucky enough that it held... Within moments, Broadside is the last the join them all at the surface of the Junkion Planet. "May I propose we leave this planet for now - and do not come back until we compose a more... suitable team?" Again the trunk shifts into reverse, and begins to drive off back to the shuttle. "I will be in the shuttle, my cargo-hold is full, and needs to be unloaded." And with that, he was off. Seeing that none of his comrades are worse for were, he begins to follow Stalwart into the shuttle to help in the unloading. Monstereo waves to the departing guests. "Join us next time for another exciting edition of 'Sink! That! Bot!' Goodnight everybody!"
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