The mixed light of the orange and yellow stars currently low on the horizon casts a warm light on the otherwise harsh and unyiellding surfaces of Trypticon. Parked in the spaceport, Fusillade is actually basking, the long shadows of her Lancer mode blocking out the light for several of the other shuttles. "Best idea ever. Those Autobots turned out to be useful for something afterall! This is what this planet's been missing. Now I don't have to stay on Earth all the time." Is there actually anyone else within audial-shot? "No," says Shockwave. "You are easier to work with in your larger mode."