| abstract
| - Despite the icy inhospitable nature, there is opportunity here on Europa. The planet is a harsh ice world orbiting the gas giant Jupiter. Cold does not begin to describe this place. Its average temperature -276.07 Fahrenheit (-171.15 Celsius), and the surface of this moon consists of huge slabs of ice that's been affected by its close proximity with Jupiter. Salt water is present underneath the ice. It can get very lonely on Europa with only the red glare of Jupiter to keep one company. Cyclonus hauls his cart (A much more manly name) along after Shockwave. He is near him on Europa's frozen surface. Ransack and Sunder are spread out some kilometers away. Both Shockwave and Cyclonus are hauling large cargo-things full of parts. Europa is . . . frozen and cold! Shockwave hauls his cart (yeah that sounds better) through the air, braving the cold as they meet Ransack and Sunder at the second spot. The Insecticon and Sweep will get there first, however, and should have time to figure out whether it's a suitable spot to build a water cannon. Shockwave looks at Ransack expectingly as he lands on the ice. Scourge accelerates and departs, becoming little more than a speck joining the stars in the glory of space. Scourge has arrived. Americon's head pops out of Shockwave's cart inexplicably, grinning like a maniac. "Hi Mr. Secretary of Defense!" he says to Shockwave. Then, he notices Cyclonus, and quickly adds, "And hello, Mr. Vice President!" After saluting them both, he hops out of the cart, transforms into eagle mode, and circles overhead. "'Sup, dawgs!" he tells Sunder and Ransack, finishing up this round of greetings. Sweep Spacecraft appears with no warning in low-orbit around the planet, then descends toward the Decepticon 'outpost.' Gigantic Locust floats down to ground level as he finishes up scanning the next potential location. "Nice trolly, sir." he says, trying to make some kind of idle conversation as his sensors finish up the job. "We've got ice for 7 kilometers here and water at 32. What do you thinAGH!" The locust literally leaps back at the sudden appearence of Americon. "What the sla-...how long was he in there?!" Cyclonus seems almost relieved as Scourge is detected in orbit. << Brother. >> He transmits to him. All the while thinking how appropriate it would be if the two of them drilled a hole in the ice and buried Shockwave there. But either way, he pushes his trolley along. Apparently he is fairly high strung, because with an soundless *BAM* in the vaccum he attempts to punch Americon right down into the cart. Fortunatly, he misses. << How many times have I warned you about that! >> Americon's robot legs pop out metallic feather-like objects as they and his lower torso split apart, also revealing an eagle head. The arms and robot head join the main body, and his guns convert into tail feathers and rocket launchers. Americon is now a bald eagle! Sweep Spacecraft transforms into his Scourge mode. Scourge crunches his feet on the ice as he lands. Growling his general irritation with everything across the radio, he asks, "Cyclonus, what do you have these misfit idiots doing?" The Sweep Lord stalks toward Cyclonus, grim and impatient. Shockwave is about to answer Ransack when Americon pops up. He turns slowly in contrast to Cyclonus. "Far too long," he responds to Ransack's second question. The Decepticon seems satisfied with letting Cyclonus deal with the troop discipline (as usual) as he looks back to Ransack. "7 kilometres shall be adequate for our needs, Ransack." Shockwave steps over. Using his foot, he scratches out an X. "Ransack, I require a hole two astrofeet in diameter and seven kilometres down. This is your opportunity to destroy, Insecticon." Shockwave steps back. <> Sweepcraft states. Cyclonus rounds on Scourge, his left optic raising thoughtfully. "I have them performing a useful task. Fortunatly, they realize their place and how to address a superior. /BROTHER/." He is particularialy stern in tone. Scourge may be a caged beast to him, but even the most useful requires a reign in periodically. "We are equipping this worthless place with makeshift defenses. I assume the Autobots will want it back." Gigantic Locust cackles gleefully as he leaps into the air, insect legs folding back up and his torso twisting into place as he makes the shift into robot mode. His thrusters keep him in mid-air as his concussion blaster appears out of subspace into his hand. "Heeere we go!" The excited mech fires into the ground, burning and blasting a hole through the ice. Possibly a little TOO big of one, but hey, it's still a hole. Ransack's humanoid legs unfold as he stands up, shifting into his robot mode. Robotic Bald Eagle nods his avian head. "Yup. I was in there a long time! Then suddenly someone was dropping stuff on me, and then I was moving somewhere!" His optics go wide at something he heard on the radio. "BRB, guys!" he says, then blasts off into the distance. Yes, he said, "BRB." Scourge smirks. "I'm not questioning your control over them, just their ability to competently follow your commands. The Will of Galvatron has sent me here to give them some incentive. Tell me.. are any of them not performing to your expectations?" Shockwave watches carefully as Ransack blasts a hole through the ice. It is slightly larger than his required specifications, but if he needed it to be exact he never would have gotten Ransack to do it in the first place. He waits patiently for the Insecticon to do his job as Scourge arrives. There is some sort of muted satisfaction he gets out of watching Scourge and Cyclonus bicker. Ahhh deepfried Insecticon. The thought appealed to Sweepcraft as Ransack starts blasting a hole. While the Insecticon blasts, he uses his plasma cannons to keep the water from refreezing overtop when it wells up from its source. "Thus far, Scourge, there is nothing for you to destroy. You may sheathe your claws and begin to erode that scanty store of paitence which you were blessed with. Else, I am certain that there are other facilities in the Solar System that you may recon appropriately." He isn't really bickering with Scourge. Cyclonus doesn't bicker. He does take a second to stare at Americon though, then waits to see if Ransack performs as hoped. Ransack spins his gun with a dramatic flourish, clearly showing off at this point, and fires off one more sonic blast. The shot splits open the last section of ice, shooting up bits off ice and splashes of water in its wake. He chuckles as he looks down at his handywork. If the 'con had lips, he'd probably be blowing at the barrel of his gun right about now. Scourge growls, unsatisfied, "Good." The Sweep lifts into the air and floats precisely over to the hole that Ransack is blasting, so he can look down at the Insecticon as he works. "Defenses." He says the word with distaste. "Feh. If we press the offensive the Autobots won't have time to worry about recapturing anything." Cyclonus inclines his head at Scourge. "Then as soon as these defenses are completed, you and Shockwave can take . . Ransack and whomever else you can find and go secure the broadcasting facility that is nearby to this one -- and we will own Jovian space." Shockwave lets Ransack and Sunder blast through the ice, ignoring the dramatic flourish from the latter. "You underestimate the Autobots, Scourge," Shockwave drones. His optic pulses in a rhythmic fashion as he speaks, now looking up at the hovering Sweep. "Contrary to popular opinion, Autobots understand the value of offence and will come after us, even if their own assets are under attack. And then they do, we must be prepared for them." Robotic Bald Eagle returns several minutes later, pushing along a cart of his own with his talons, which appears to also have some sort of package inside it. "Ok, phew, I got it. Freaking heavy! Give me a second, guys, and I'll be randomly shooting things with the rest of you!" He zaps the box with his eyebeams just enough to slice up the tape holding the package together. Then, he dives inside, styrofoam peanuts spraying out as he rummages around inside, then finally emerges with an absurdly large gun that couldn't possibly be his in his talons and some sort of tube launcher in his beak. "Wrrrk!" Sweepcraft is all ready to progress to the next site, if necessary. He engages not in idle conversation. Cyclonus pauses to think for a moment. "Which reminds me of something that I had forgotten. I will be on Trypticon, if required." And with that, Cyclonus transforms and flies off -- leaving Shockwave to do all the work. Hah! Transforming into his starfighter mode, Cyclonus is backlit by the eerie blue glow of nuclear-powered turbines as they come online. Combat: Cybertronian Starfighter begins retreating, outrunning all pursuit. Scourge spins in the air and shows a clenched fist at Shockwave, having much less patience for the logical being than his brother shows. "And contrary to /your/ opinion, Shockwave, maintaining the /status quo/," he spits the words out, "produces nothing but complacency and stagnation. We should attack. Constantly. If they are never allowed to rest they'll never have a chance to even consider attacking Our Lord Galvatron." With the hole presumably blasted, Shockwave begins working to assemble the actual cannon, using his arm blaster as a welder. While he works, he answers Scourge, "I have made no objection to attacking, Scourge, however random strikes without providing the proper infrastructure in the territory one already holds is detrimental to the overall war effort." The drill and hose goes down the hole, and the pump will draw water up to the surface, where it'll be shoot out at any Autobots. This is happening while Americon is going on and on about something that Shockwave isn't listening to. Finally... "The cannon is ready for testing. Americon, stand over there." He points to an area about 20 robo metres away. Ransack's optics mostly go out of focus for the building. As he thought, construction really isn't his scene, so instead of paying attention he simply zones out and imagines blasting another hole. Or a few hundred more. Scourge growls lowly, turning his back on Shockwave, "War gets in the way of destruction." Robotic Bald Eagle awwwws, setting his newly gotten weapons back into the box. The oversized cannon pokes out of the top, the business end pointed at the stars. Though he is disappointed that he won't get to use his new stuff straight-away, he nevertheless flies to the spot Shockwave indicates, transforms into robot mode. Hands on his hips, and grinning audial to audial, he asks, "So, is this good?" Americon undergoes a patriotic transformation into his All-American robot mode! Sweepcraft finally tires of circling and lands, his wings drawn in close like a blanket or cape. The Sweep strokes his beard, dislodging some ice crystals that have already formed on his mustache. Sunder shifts into his fearsome-looking robot mode. "Destruction for the sake of destruction is a foolhardy objective that accomplishes nothing," Shockwave replies as Scourge turns his back on him. His voice remains at that same infuriatingly calm tone. "Ransack, proceed to the next site. If it has a clear line of fire on the area surrounding the base and has measurements within our needs, create another hole for us to use." Ransack might want to wait a moment, however, because Americon is in place and Shockwave tests the device, activating a remote control. The water cannon spins, immediately locks onto Americon, and shoots out a stream of water that's going to freeze whatever it hits solid. Americon is promptly frozen inside of a great big block of ice, his psychotically cheerful grin frozen into place just like the rest of him. However, his "pupils"--you know, the shiny points on his optics--dart about as if he was looking for a way out. Ransack prepares to lift off once more at Shockwave's command, but stops to turn and watch the water cannon's maiden shot. The Insecticon finds that it does not disappoint. "That is excellent, sir. A little too unexplosive for my tastes, but it looks like it gets the job done." He points his blaster in the icy Americon's direction. "You want me to get him out before I head to the next spot?" He's not being nice or anything, just being Ransack. Scourge glowers at Shockwave. "Your only use is to keep the war machine moving toward the /goal/ of destruction." Which is a little bit nicer than telling him he plans to kill him at some point in the future. The Sweep flies down to where Americon is sealed in ice, and taps on the block with a hooked finger. "Clever," he remarks, then draws back to strike the ice prison heavily with a clawed hand. Shockwave glances over to Scourge as Americon is frozen solid. "Just consider the destruction you could deal your enemies if they cannot fight back. A war machine is hardly a war machine if it does nothing but attack with no regard to how it will supply the effort or deal with the retaliations of the enemy." He lets Scourge go and free Americon. "Scourge has it covered, Ransack." Sunder murmurs an approval of rendering enemies helpless. After all, it is what Sunder loves above all else--prey that cannot fight back. Ransack's trigger finger proves to be too itchy as he fires right when Shockwave tells him otherwise. "Oops." Yeah, he doesn't sound the /least/ bit sorry. Combat: Ransack strikes Americon with his Concussion Blaster Gun attack! [Pulled -2] Scourge brings his arm up to shield his optics from the nearby blast. "Hrrnh," he mutters. "Don't waste your energy on these little scraps," he tells Ransack. KABOOOM! The ice block explodes into chunks as Americon pops out, arms held high, exclaiming, "Freeeee!" But then, of course, Ransack shoots him through the gut and sends the little tape flying into the ground. "Grrrrgh!" Shockwave clearly does not mind Ransack shooting Americon. "Come. Let us see to the other potential sites..." Beautiful and yet surreal and hostile at the same time, Titan is one of those places where nobody in their right mind would want to go. There is nothing like this place anywhere else in the Sol system, with inky-black lakes of liquid hydrocarbons occupying hundreds, sometimes thousands of square miles. In a few limited places, cryovolcanoes spew out liquid ammonia and methane which typically condenses into the intense, sienna colored methane clouds that blanket the atmosphere and hide this primevil place from those who would observe it from space. The very atmosphere is a strange, slightly brown-hazed mix of mostly nitrogen, extremely dense. This combines with the low gravity to make flight incredibly easy even for those poorly suited to it, but the most chilling detail are those brown-orange colored methan clouds. They let a shifting, filtered glow come down from the sky during the day that is positively baleful. Furthermore, superior high-altitude winds force the atmosphere to rotate far faster than the moon -- giving the sky and clouds constant and fast motion. Located near one of the largest cryovolcanoes on the moon is an extensive network of caverns and caves. Some are large and some are small, but within the largest slumbers the giant form of the Decepticon cityformer Trypticon. Lean Mean Eating Machine is patrolling in the methane stench near to Trypticon. Or, rather, he is actually meandering around the area in an effort to take in just what kind of primitive place this is. Secretly, it appeals to his Terrorcon heart in so very many ways. He is fairly near to the entry to Trypticon. Americon is, meanwhile, dragging along a box that has been opened. Sticking out of the box is the tube of some sort of oversized cannon that couldn't possibly be Americon's gun... could it? He appears to be trying to get into Trypticon, but stops when he sees Hun-Grrr. "Sir! How are you doing, sir? I heard about your league of not very smart people. It sounds very interesting!" Scrapper has been rummaging about in what passes for Trypticon's brain but, as the giant mobile city's sensors pick up on the presence of Hun-Grr and Americon, he lays down his tools. Scrapper climbs his way out carefully before leaving the control chamber and drifting down toward the two of them. He glances at Americon and his weapon first, and rather suspicously. "You, Americon! What are you doing here, and with that contrapiton?" Lean Mean Eating Machine pauses as Americon approaches. He is in a foul mood today and if it were any other tape, Hun-Grrr might actually eat him. But given the problem he instead transforms and attempts to be somewhat helpful. Americon is afterall, an honorary Terrorcon. "You be poster image for it." He says to Americon. "Besides, all Terrorcons part of it and you Terrorcon now. You Hat. Me think you should see him Soundwave and get fourth mode. Get special hat mode. It be something." He attempts to heft this cannon. "What you have here, and why?" Hun-Grr rises up on his dragon heads to form feet as his torso rotates to form a menacing robot! Americon grins up at Scrapper. "I am about to assemble my ULTIMATE WEAPON! It is a gun so powerful that if you were to fire it at God, you would--woah, hey, careful!" He flails his arms as Hun-Grrr snatches it. "Woah! Careful with the cannon, man! It is a very powerful cannon I will use to kill many Autobots!" The cannon is easily longer than Americon is tall. It doesn't look like it was intended for a Cassetticon at all, really. "The special hat mode is an interesting idea, though! I may have to ditch my original idea of turning into a flag!" Scrapper glances from Americon, to the cannon of Americon, then to Hun-Grr, and then back to Americon. "There is sensitive work going on here, Americon, and it is no place for ultimate weapons...besides Trypticon." His tone of voice suggests that he doesn't think it'll even fire anyway. Hinder shuffles toward Americon, her curious gaze already taking in the newly acquired weapon. Hun-Grrr keeps the wweapon hefted away from Americon. "What little tape think he going to do with something like this? You no kill Autobots with it, you kill self. Then Abominus no have hat anymore." He's holding it just out of Americon's reach. He then looks at Scrapper and gives him an /extremely/ sour looking look. "Let him Terrorcon have his fun. He with me." The cannon is really big indeed. It seems far too big for a tape, in fact. And yet, the box in which it was contained was clearly addressed to Americon. Speaking of the box, Americon rummages around in it, holding up a bunch of decals. "But wait, sir! We can apply these decals of American flags! That will also make the gun much safer, and no doubt make Scrapper happy! Riiight?" Scrapper doesn't look dubiously at Americon's flags, and through a great effort of will doesn't sound that way either. "Perhaps that would best answered by Soundwave, Americon. He has the final say in what you do." Passing the buck, Scrapper style. Hinder shuffles right up to the box and pokes her head in, sniffing at what's left inside. There is also some sort of missile launcher in there. Probably perfectly harmless. Hun-Grrr looks dubiously at the cannon. "This cannon for /big/ bots." He says to Americon, condenscendingly. "You have to show you big enough to handle it responsability. No let him Scrapper get you down. Him no know fun if it bit him on aftplate three times." He peers down at Hinder, and attempts to nudge her and the box with his foot experimentally. "You have to show you can hit something BEFORE you put decals on. Else we have to take back to shop. You big enough bot to hit that boulder over there?" Scrapper is not yet done playing Mr. All Done, The Killer of Fun. He holds out a hand in the universal gesture of stop. "I cannot allow that...instrument to be discharged here. It is an uncertified and, in all probability, and unproven weapon. I have more serious matters at hand then putting all of you back together." Americon hmmmms. "I'm kind of short, but I should still be able to hit the boulder! Probably!" But as Scrapper lays down the law on their reckless endangerment of life, Americon, balls up his fists and stamps his feet. "Awwww! I wanna blow up things up! Come on! Everyone else does! I wanna be in the cool club!" Hinder noses the other tube-thing in the box, then loses interest in it when something shiny moves next to it. Ooh... You receive a radio message from Hun-Grrr: You shoot quick. Me give you opening. Hun-Grrr hands the cannon down to Americon thoughtfully; even attempting to pat-pat the little tape-bot on the head. Suddenly, he turns around. "What?!" He asks. "Look! Him Trypticon online!" Hinder pops her head up when Hun-Grr yells "Look!"....but she looks at HIM, not at some imaginary Trypticon. Scrapper isn't fooled: the latest upgrade to his intelligence matrix corrected the bug that made him fall for that trick. "No, he is not. I was just inside his central core...the chance of him becoming online is the same as Blot not winning the Galatic Scent Council's Most Unconceable Order award!" Americon grabs the gun anyway, bracing it across his shoulder like a huge bazooka. While Hun-Grrr may not have fooled Scrapper, perhaps he can? Wow, that would be embarassing. "OH MY GAWD RODIMUS PRIME!" He squeezes the trigger on his cannon, disgorging an absurdly huge purple bolt while at the same time propelling himself a football field's length in the opposite direction. The blast doesn't hit the boulder, but rather, the ground near it, and there is a brilliant fiery blast at the impact point. The ground begins to rumble for some reason, if something bad is about to happen. Hun-Grrr at least has the brains to look shocked at the sound of the weapon blast. He even looks shocked at Hinder, and then, curiously, drops to dragon form and begins to back away from the rock in question. Hun-Grr drops down onto all fours with his torso rotating into position and both heads coming up. He is now a monsterous looking dragon! Scrapper had apparently already run the number of how best to destroy Americon and make it look like an accident, but in this he is foiled by the recoil of Americon's mega weapon. As the tapecon flies away Scrapper turns sharply at the rumble in the ground, and takes to the air for a closer look. "Why that...if we survive, I will show him his work first hand! He's tapped into a magma pocket!" Hinder yeeks! and flattens herself to the ground when Americon fires off that ridiculous weapon, then looks around for the source of the rumbling. Uh oh. Suddenly, the ground around the spot Americon blasted explodes upwards in a brilliant spray of water and ammonia, much of which quickly freezes into icy particles in the air! Not only that, but the boulder Americon was supposed to shoot was also sent flying into the air! Where will it land? Oh, crap, its trajectory looks rather dangerously like it will come down right on top of Trypticon! "Oh, crap!" Americon adds helpfully, picking himself up some distance away. "I missed!" Hinder hisses in surprise and skitters away from the spray of liquid into the air, ending up of all places hiding behind Hun-Grrr's forelegs. Hun-Grrr is actually surprisingly considerate at the moment. This is to say he doesn't step on Hinder. In fact, he actually manuvers fairly carefully not to crush the life out of her as he contineus backing away himself. He soooo is not getting involved in this. Hinder shuffle-scoots to keep herself hidden behind the dragon's front feet, as if aware that he's got the right idea. Maybe it'd be easier if she just climbed onto one of his legs. Too bad ferrets are lousy climbers. Which leaves Scrapper, who wishes that he had his portable zero point energy emitter, so that he could put the boulder somewhere more approriate...like on top of Americon. However, there is no time for that, and so Scrapper suddenly flies head first at the large rock. Midway through the air he transforms into his winged payloader mode, and impales the front edge of his shovel deep into the rock! The velocity knocks the boulder away from Trypticon, and eventually straight into the opposite wall, where it shatters and frees Scrapper. This, rather unfortunately, leaves the Constructicon leader with a drop of some 12 feet to the ground. So, before he can transform again, he falls to the ground and his the metal covering the chambger floor rather hard; thank goodness for industrial grade shock absorbers. Americon frowns, stowing away his huge gun into his subspace pocket (which he can do because it's keyed to his subspace pocket's frequency, since it is, naturally, his weapon). "Hmm!" he says, watching the boulder drop with a look of concern. "This looks like a job for... BIRD MODE!" Quickly, he transforms and zips over to his box, snatches his other new weapon, the missile launcher, and--"Oh, dammit, I was going to blow up the boulder! It would've been totally awesome!" Americon grumbles, and transforms back into robot mode. He mumbles unpleasantries as he fits the attachment to the back end of one of his blasters. Lean Mean Eating Machine eventually stops, which is probably a good thing for Hinder as it makes things slightly easier. He even goes so far as to sit down, twain heads now looking at Americon and Scrapper respectively. "Him Americon can blow up that boulder over there?" He asks, helpfully. Hinder peeks out from behind the dragon-leg, not fond of things blowing up however or whereever. Americon grins. "Ok, great idea! Because my other new weapon is even better! It's a seismic torpedo! I'm not sure what that means, but it sounds like it will blow up the crap out of anything! Observe, Hinder!" He transforms into eagle mode, and the tube launcher, now on his eagle mode's back, fires a small projectile at the second boulder. "Huh," Americon says, sounding disappointed. "I was expecting a bigger--" Then, the torpedo shatters the boulder into hundreds of fragments upon impact! "--holy crap!" Hinder looks up at Americon, then at the small projectile that does.... "YEEK!" She's hiding behind Hun-Grrr's leg again. Americon's robot legs pop out metallic feather-like objects as they and his lower torso split apart, also revealing an eagle head. The arms and robot head join the main body, and his guns convert into tail feathers and rocket launchers. Americon is now a bald eagle! Robotic Bald Eagle squints over at Hinder. "Wow. That was pretty, cool, huh? I should randomly blow things up more often! It's fun!" Hinder peeks out at Americon. "Nono. Loud. Don't like loud." Robotic Bald Eagle hangs his head, looking a little disappointed. "Aww. Loud's good, though! It's very American, like the Fourth of July!" Lean Mean Eating Machine sort of half twists inwardly to take the shower of debris that comes down across his armored back, which weathers the storm without seeming to do much damage at all. "Me think you put big gun away and keep second one. That at least you can control a little more and you a little less stupid with." He doesn't move, so Hinder can hide behind his leg easily. Hinder tilts her head to look at Americon confusedly. "What's 'American'? Like the squishie human thing?" Robotic Bald Eagle smiles over at the twin-headed dragon. "Sure, thing, boss! I shall discard the over-sized cannon and keep the far more practical torpedo launcher!" But then, he lowers his head, grins evilly, and thinks to himself, (Heheheh, what he does not yet know is that I will keep BOTH weapons, and in so doing, become the most powerful American EVER! Mwahahaha! Wait. I'm thinking out loud, again, aren't I? Oh, crap.) Fortunately, Hinder provides an opportunity to change the subject. "Uh, well, kinda. Except Americans are far better than other squishies, because they are American!" Hinder says, "Why?" Robotic Bald Eagle blinks, staring at the little ferret. "I... uh... what? Um. Well. Americans, you see... uh... well... uh... they're American! And they live in America! And they do American things. Sooo... they are better! Yes." Lean Mean Eating Machine eyes Americon for a moment or two. The little bugger is up to something, he knows it. What he -REALLY- should do is eat the big cannon. Maybe even eat Americon, but, hey. "Hrm." He says. "Me leave you two to get aquainted. Me going inside Trypticon for rest cycle. Maybe you teach her Hinder to shoot cannon." And with that he turns, to plod away. Combat: Lean Mean Eating Machine begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from Robotic Bald Eagle Hinder tilts her head, watching the dragon walk away before addressing Americon again. "Why?" Robotic Bald Eagle nods to Hun-Grrr. "Sure thing, boss! I might let her fire it... MAYBE." Hinder again pesters him for an explanation, and Americon is at a loss for how to articulate why Americans are better. "Um... well... uh... you see... LOOK BEHIND YOU!" He points over Hinder's shoulder, then, assuming she is distracted, blasts away on his thrusters as fast as he can. "Mwahahaha, now I can continue to cling to my beliefs without explaining them... IN AMERICA!" Combat: Robotic Bald Eagle begins retreating, outrunning all pursuit. Hinder doesn't actually turn to follow where Americon points, instead just watching him blast away, then turning to shuffle after both.
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