Skylynx:

Optimus stood in the center of the Skylynx's control room, monitoring the visuals of Earth as it came into view. They had been unable to tail the Gobots, though random spots of interference raised alarms on more than one occasion. Cosmos had been radioed for help, but he wasn't responding. Prime considered ordering Skylynx back to his last known location... but he couldn't chance losing any more time, especially if the Guardians were heading to Earth. As he scanned the various screens, he listened to the Autobots seated around a large conference table.
"Here is what we currently know." Jazz stared at a holographic replica of Iacon floating above the table. "The Guardians arrive in a damaged transport, they sucker us into taking them in."
The scene changed to Optimus thrown forward, a hole in his shoulder, Leader-1's fist raised, still smoking from shooting Prime from behind.
"They get the drop on us, call in some heavy duty fire and lay some serious damage on Iacon."
The scene changed once more, Iacon in ruins, the Command Centers rising into the sky and vanishing. "And then it's sayonara. No declaration of war, no gloating, no nothing."
Roadbuster leaned against the back wall, arms crossed, Whirl beside him. "This just makes me more confused. I thought seein' this would help."
Jazz studied the image, rewinding it and replaying it. "There has to be something in this that gives us an idea of what's going on in their heads."
"Who's to say they aren't just crazy?" Cloudraker banged his fist on the table, "I mean, look at what they did, isn't it obvious?"
Whirl shook his head. "I still don't understand why attack, do that much damage and just take off? Did they really think it'd be enough to wipe us out?"
"They must've, why else would they turn tail after Fort Max arrived?"
"In case you ain't keepin' score," Roadbuster grumbled, "Fort Max got his ticket punched." he pointed to the holographic sequence, "An' that double-transport is still kickin."
"But not like before, they fled!" Cloudraker looked around the table, hoping for support. Jazz looked at him and sighed.
"I think this was a tactical move."
Whirl threw his hands in the air, "C'mon Jazz, not that again!"
"Think about it man! They decimated Iacon, that's a statement."
"What's the statement though, 'Look what we can do'?"
"Why not?! Look, why is it we only saw five actual Gobots? Five. Did you see anyone else? Because all I got a peep at was some nasty transports. Where were the rest? If the goal was to conquer, I'm sure we'd have seen Guardians in every size, shape and form.
"But didn't Blurr just tell us they're on Earth?" Fastlane leaned a weary head in his hand, it still ached.
"He said they were different from the guys we fought."
"And how would he know? They got blitzed just like we did."
Elita-1 tapped a finger on the table, "What if they're trying a two-pronged assault? Maybe they're thinking they could cripple us on Cyberton and try to wipe us out on Earth in one blow."
Roadbuster nodded in agreement, "Less to worry about in the long run, if there is a long run."
Jazz shook his head "But no one was killed on Cybertron, Perceptor's adamant about that."
"Dumb luck?"
"I don't think so."
Roadbuster pushed off the wall and growled, "If they thought destroying one city was gonna be enough to take us out, they're seriously slagged in the head. And they ain't comin' back t'Cybertron, it's suicide! Shockwave's got the place on lockdown."
Prime listened to them speculate, but they were going in circles. In truth, they had little idea what to make of the Guardians' assault aside from Unicron being the catalyst. If that was the case, and they were planning to land on Earth, he could only hope that the best course of action was the one they were taking right now.
He noticed the chatter dying down and looked towards his troops, they had stopped talking amongst themselves and were staring at him, uncertainty etched in their eyes.
"What do you think Prime?"
He was quiet a moment, then, "We're doing exactly what they want us to do."
No one spoke.
"But now is the time to stop playing by their rules. I think Jazz is correct, the attack on Iacon was about making a statement. They wanted us to see what they could do. Now it's time to make a statement of our own. Whether they know it or not, Earth is our turf as well, and now that we know what they're capable of, we won't make the same mistakes." He glanced over them, making brief eye contact with them all, "We follow, we engage, and we will bring this- whatever it is, to and end before this gets completely out of hand."
They nodded silently in agreement.
"Blaster, patch me through to Ultra Magnus. The sooner we start making preparations the better."

---------------

Perceptor bustled about the medilab within Skylynx, tending to Ironhide, Gears and the Aerialbots. They were recovering faster than expected, as if knowing their pending arrival on Earth would grant them a second shot at the Guardians. Silverbolt was already up and walking about, assisting Perceptor in the cramped quarters.
"Lay down Ironhide!" he pressed a hand to Ironhide's chest and tried to ease him back on the table. "You're not going to do anyone any good if you're stumbling around like a drunken scout."
"Save yer chatter for yer airbots!" He swiped Silverbolt's hand away and sat up, swinging his legs down and prepared to jump down.
"Behave yourself, lad." They froze, eyes jumping to the dark corner of the room. Kup's chair squeaked as he inched forward, using his withered fingers to wheel himself into the dull lights. He regarded Ironhide with sullen eyes. "You'll have plenty of time to whoop on some Guardians when we get to Earth. No sense in getting' riled up till it's the right, useful time."
"Kup!" Ironhide moved to get off the table, then changed his mind, "You came with us!"
"Yeah." He whispered, "Been awhile since these optics have seen Magnus and the crew. Despite the circumstances, thought it'd do me some good."
Perceptor looked up and smiled, "We're very glad you decided to join us Kup, your strategic expertise will-" his words faded, Kup's eyes were already dimming again as he wheeled himself back into his chosen corner, and he drifted back into his head.

*********

Starscream awoke suddenly, his good optic snapping online and giving a clear visual of... "What the-?!"
Fitor backhanded Starscream, jolting the Decepticon's head to the left.
"How dare you! I'll-" Starscream found he could do nothing, he tried to move his arms but they refused to respond. His eye darted about the room, a chamber of some sort, dark and metallic, a single door with a small window lit by the brighter corridor. He wasn't chained to the wall, rather, just propped up against it. His arms were lowered to his sides. With some effort, he managed to look down and he saw two large, metal discs attached to his torso, connected by a thin length of cable. The strange, simple looking device crackled whenever he attempted movement.
Fitor slowly raised his forearm, the elongated wingblade glinted dangerously close to Starscream's remaining eye, then halted, tapping his forearm. "He's awake."
He strolled over and leaned against the wall beside Starscream. "Aw, can't move?" Fitor patted one of the flat metal discs, "We call them restraining bolts, they disable your higher motor functions."
"Fascinating. Listen, Fido is it?"
"Fitor."
"Right, whatever, listen, I'm not used to dealing with the hired help, what say you call your boss so we can discuss the, shall we say, terms of my release?"
"Who says you're getting released?"
Starscream laughed. "Please, you wouldn't waste your time taking me hostage unless you wanted something."
Now Fitor laughed. "Blane doesn't want anything to do with you. But, the good doctor was dying to see how you Transformers work."
A head appeared, blocking a portion of the light entering the chamber. A series of clicks sounded as the locks came undone, and the door creaked open slowly, revealing a lean, slender figure. It stalked forward, it's jittery movements hurt Starscream's optics, as if the motion of the Gobot itself was uneven, out of phase. Light ticking sounds came from his body, no pattern, but constantly there as if internal connections and disconnections were taking place within.
"My friends," came a thin, dry voice heavy with a strange similarity to the earthlings' German accent, "call me Herr Fiend." He came closer, a majority of his body a dank, sickly color close to black, tinted with brown. The upper portions of his limbs pristine silvery chrome, covered with odd, angular shapes as if the entire thing was fitted together with zig-zagging strips of metal. His face was... he had no face, just a thin, empty stretch of blackness beneath a helmet also modeled with an altered German design. Only a single, white circle stood out, set over the right eye spot like a monocle. "But my patients call me Dr. Go."
Starscream was silent as the doctor approached. "Have you ever heard of something called a Brain-Stormer?" Starscream said nothing. "No, of course you have not, you Transformrs might not even possess such technology. What it does, my friend, is dig deep into your mind, physically first of course, but after I have penetrated your chrome matter, it allows me to poke about until I find what I want."
Starscream's mind raced, he needed time, needed to stall. "And where is this..brain stormer?"
Herr Fiend laughed, a scattering of ticks and clacking marred the sound, grating in Starscream's audio. "Where is it?" He leaned closer, the monocle went bright, shining a blinding circle of light in Starscream's face, "Why, you're looking at it!" Herr Fiend laughed, the brain stormer technology had been fused with his own circuits, he knew its workings better than anyone, it was only fitting that he be the one to carry its core within his own. Starscream saw the mad doctor in silhouette, a thin slip of a robot that suddenly quivered as spidery limbs rose from his back, some thin, some thick, each laced with altering black and sliver metal, covered in intricate detailing that seemed to move of its own accord. The ends were each unique, tipped with various hooks and bladed edges Starscream couldn't name, but bore a resemblance to tools he had used in his own lab when he was still a scientist on Cybertron. The other tips, well, those he had also seen-in the hands of the undertakers in the scrap-morgues.
"Such secrets," Herr Fiend whispered, his speech becoming harder to understand as he became more excited. "Such secrets" sounded like "Zuch Zeecrits."
"Da," He leaned closer and whispered, the steady whir and hum of his instruments nearing Starscream's forehead, face and eyes, "try not to struggle." He considered it a moment, then, "On second thought, feel free to struggle if you can, I am curious to see how a Transformer's mind handles resistance when introduced to pain."
"No, wait!" Starscream managed before three of Herr Feind's spider-limbs stabbed into his helmet, but the doctor paid him no mind. There was a high pitched whine of drilling, a loud, overwhelming cacophony of clicking and whirring as the other limbs darted forward and pulled back in a blur. He struggled against the restraining bolt, hoping for a slight bit of give when his world went white with pain.
Starscream's mind filled with an image of himself, his marred, chewed, body going into wild spasms as the Predacons tore into his metal and stripped large bands of his body from its frame. The colors were overly vibrant, the edges of color flooding past the lines that defined them. Starscream howled, the visions flooding forth and blotting out every sense except pain. He knew he must have been screaming, but couldn't hear himself over the sound of his body being torn apart. A splash of red fluid covered his vision as the image burst into a scrolling mixture of image and code, digital ones and zeros flickering across the Predacons[ERROR]Terrorcons. Hun-Grr smiled at Starscream and the pain intensified. Everything went black, then white, stark, high contrast stills of him being eaten alive by the abominations, the crunching of metal and squealing tears of tooth against[ERROR-FILE]circuits. Starscream screamed again, his mind unable to process information correctly as he spiraled into the oversized face of Galvatron, eyes cold and mouth agape with laughter. He heard words drifting through the now swirling image, the German sounding voice whispering "Very interesting, very interesting indeed."
The failed revolt against Galvatron, the betrayal by Thrust, and again he was back on Charr, Rippersnapper's teeth lodged in his throat, Razorclaw[ERROR-DATA]Hun-Grr's maw gripping his shoulder and ripping it from the socket in a spray of oil and electricity. Razorclaw roared above him and he felt a sudden, cold pain in his chest. It fell away from his body as the Predacon[ERROR DATA FILE CORRUPT]lunged forward and dug his teeth deep into his circuitry, ripping out his central processor, a clump of wires dripping from his mouth.
[ERROR DATA ERROR 100100 FILE CORRUPT] PURGE ERRO1100100R [ERROR DA101TA FILE CORRUPT FILE PURGE]
The scene degraded into chaos. The Terrorcons all tore into his body, transforming as they did so. Hun-Grr stood and howled with Rampage's voice, his face suddenly Motormaster's. His mouth opened, Cutthroat crawled from the impossibly small opening and lunged at his face, ripping off a portion of his forehead and rejoined the Predacons. Razorclaw climbed atop[ERROR]Hun-Grr, the dual groups separated and recombined, all ten of them smashing together in a horrendous amalgam of Predaking and Abominus. Its face was Galvatron's, stretched and distorted, mouth long and reptillian[ERROR DA101TA FILE CORRUPT FILE PURGE]
A string of electricity launched from Starscream and raced along Herr Fiend's limbs. The doctor jerked back with a yelp, Fitor reached out to keep him from falling when he saw Starscream's body convulsing wildly, purple and green bands of energy ripped across his head and spread down to his body. The restraining bolt short-circuited, and Starscream's hands went to his head with a feral howl. His weapons came online and he fired, not seeing and not caring, pain coursing through his circuits.
"GALVA-" he screamed, "GALV-AAAA-A-AAAAAA!!!!"
"Ah crap, look out!" Fitor moved to duck for cover but was instead caught flush by Starscream's null ray. His circuits overloaded and seized, his mouth went wide as he tried to move, but instead collapsed to the ground, smoke rising from his joints. Herr Fiend fell behind Fitor, using the body as a shield while Starscream flailed about the room, still raving, still seeing nothing but the shattered images in his head. He transformed, ignited his thrusters, and smashed through the door of the cell.

***************

Earth:

A.J slid into the passenger's side of Nick's car, their last acquisition from UNECOM before they dropped off the radar. On the outside, it was a Lamborghini, the black coloring applied to it so deep it appeared to distort the immediate area around it if one stared at it for too long. At first glance it simply looked like the shadow of another car, a closer look at the coloration revealed why; it was drenched in UNECOM's borrowed and modified Gobotronian technology. A velocity based stealth agent ensured that the faster the car went, the harder it became to detect. "It's discreet!" Nick had smiled to A.J as they watched it roll off the assembly line.
Nick closed A.J's door and leapt into the driver's seat. There was no steering wheel, no gear shifts, just a blank, dark dashboard that glistened. He waved his hand over it, his eye twitching slightly when bright, blue lines of circuitry became visible on his palm. The dashboard lit up immediately, displaying various gauges and readings the same shade as the light from his hand. The engine roared to life and slipped down to dull thrum. It was barely audible, but Nick smiled, feeling the restrained intensity of the engine. They pulled out of their driveway, touched the street, and disappeared down the street.

**************

Gobotropolis:

Unicron sat upon his throne, lights raced along his body as he tried to replenish his energy. The Gobots were grating on his nerves. He felt them scurrying to and fro like mindless worker ants. There was little to no thought, the initial storm of questions and confusion was nonexistent amongst the Guardians. The Renegades caused an annoying buzz when he tried to peer into their skulls, nothing more than reckless thoughts with greatly detailed schemes-but all pertained to conquest. The Guardians, on the other hand, gave off nothing a grating static. He found fragments of words, parts of sentences in an ancient dialect he did not have the patience-or energy to waste deciphering.
And they were doing things. Or rather, it seemed like they weren't doing much of anything, and this bothered Unicron more than them actively trying to revolt. Since Leader-1 left, every one of them acted as though they were on a timer, traveling to a specific location, doing something pointless like look at the sky or tap on the side of a building, then speed off on a set route, only to return and do the same thing hours later. He noticed one Guardian, a small yellow and black cycle zipping about on three wheels approach one of the various spires that had grown from Gobotropolis, open a small panel and removed the network of wires connecting the ports, then zipped off, only to return and replace them. His thoughts were fragmented as well, between blocks of their old tongue the Guardian recited colors. No order, he simply ran through the color spectrum in an infinite loop.
It made no sense, and it was like this everywhere. He seethed, anxious to be rid of this world and nestled within Cybertron. Behind his faceless plate he allowed himself a knowing chuckle. Once Cybertron was ripe for his taking, he would leave this pitiful sphere-and decimate it while he left.

**************

Command Center G1:

Hans-Cuff walked beside Leader-1, his visor mimicking the stern, somewhat bent shades of Earth policemen. It made it hard to read him. He had arrived on the Command Center's bridge less than an hour after talking to Leader-1 in a glittering spectrum of lights outlining his form and filling in the space. He explained to Leader-1 that the astrobeam technology was somehow had networked itself into their systems, linking them to the nearest available Command Center. According to their testing it drained power substantially, preventing them from jumping repeatedly, the range varied depending on the Gobot using it. At the moment, they had no idea if the Renegades possessed the same technology. Leader-1 took in the information, walking in silence until Hans-Cuff finished his report, then halted. He knew that on screen the Guardians were eager to please him, but he needed to know more. He thought about the torture Unicron had put him through, the monster's frustration was apparent. Good. He doubted it was simply the desire to claim Cybertron that was agitating Unicron, and that was a positive sign, it meant that the Guardians on Gobotron were carrying out his instructions to a tee. He just needed more time, he was playing with the most dangerous kind of fire, and it would only take one error, one misstep for Unicron would wipe his people out-again. He hesitated. Unicron was sure to be pulled back slightly, content with the pain he inflicted upon Leader-1 earlier. He lowered his voice to a hushed whisper.
"What are they saying?"
Hans-Cuff paused, arms behind his back. "They're scared to death Leader-1, we all are."
Leader-1 nodded. "I know. I'm asking so much from all of you..."
Leader-1 hoped the Guardians remaining on Gobotron would continue following his orders, praying that their actions would buy some measure of unmonitored speech.
"I just hope they know I'm doing this for them."
"They know, I think deep in their hearts they do, but... We're -" he halted, clicked his teeth, "You need to talk to them." he stared at Leader-1. His yellow eyes, though hidden behind dark ovals of glass, burned, "You have to be straight with them. No more of this cloak and dagger stuff. We're with you but..." He gestured towards the window, frustrated "What are we doing Leader-1?! We've just launched an attack on an alien race we don't know anything about. These are beings who have never done anything to us!"
He threw his hands in the air, fingers curled, exasperated "I-We thought we were Guardians... Guardians don't do this, Leader-1."
Leader-1 winced as if his chest wound had sparked again. It hurt, but this was what he needed to hear, this was why he needed Hans-Cuff. Nothing could ever replace Turbo's friendship or loyalty, but at times it was difficult for him to be objective. Even before this whole mess with Unicron, Hans-Cuff was out there with the other Guardians, fellow Gobotronians who were either too scared or had too much respect to question Leader-1. Without Hans-Cuff, he doubted he'd ever know what his Guardians were really thinking. But to know that they felt like this... He hung his head, weary and feeling every second of his age.
"He was going after Cybertron with or without us. I know it sounds crazy Hans-Cuff, but there is no other way for this to happen, this is the only way to save Gobotron.This gives us both a fighting chance."
Hans-Cuff began to pace back and forth, "You think any of them, those, Transformers, are going to believe that?"
"I know they won't, not right now. But at the moment I can't be concerned with them believing me. How can they? Not after what I've done." His look darkened, "Not with what I still have to do." He looked towards Hans-Cuff, "But you. I need to know, do you still trust me? Do you still believe in what I'm doing?"
Hans-Cuff looked pained, he grimaced. "Every piece of this puzzle makes my instincts scream Leader-1... but... my gut never lies. I said I believe you and I do, I know you mean what you're saying."
Leader-1 sighed to himself. "I can't do this if there's doubt, Hans-Cuff. I can't, I need you all."
Hans-Cuff nodded. "I know. I'll spread the word, calm the waters. In the meantime, maybe you can tell me, why did you only attack the Autobots?"
"Honestly, I did that hoping our respective natures would keep us from taking things too far. The Decpticonss though, they're made for war, I thought they would be better suited to hold their own against Cy-K... Blane. Which reminds me, how are they holding up against... Trypticon was it?
Hans-Cuff looked visibly ill, he halted. "Tryticon, Leader-1?
Leader-1 froze. "Yes... Trypticon." Hans-Cuff said nothing, Leader-1 faced him. "Hans-Cuff?"
The gobot cop was visibly uncomfortable, "We haven heard anything about a Trypticon. Spa-C managed to pull bits of transmissions that mentioned a few names, but we heard the name Metroplex-"
"Metroplex?"
"And Ultra Magnus-"
"No... Oh, dear God." Leader-1's mouth sagged, eyes growing wide behind his visor. "Those are Autobots!" He turned in the direction of the bridge, leapt and ignited his foot thrusters, "What has he done?!"

*****************

Earth:

Metroplex rested in his city mode, slowly working the remaining lines of infected code from his systems. His lights were dim, the sounds of repair filtering through his corridors. When the Renegades took their leave, Metroplex had been able to slough off the remains of the Autobot shuttle they used to ram him, but lacked the energy for anything else. His didn't transform into city mode so much as he fell into it, body and mind exhausted from the savagery of the attack his suffered. Large grooves marred his towers and stretches of metal, parts that had been bent or damaged scraped noisily against others as they ground back into place. When he finally came to rest, he still was not properly transformed, his helipad hung loose, making it unusable. His right tower had been broken off during the assault, and lay on its side fifty feet from where he now rested. He was in pain, low on power, but took a certain amount of reassurance feeling the familiar patter of Autobots racing around within his halls. They moved with urgency, he could hear their hurried chatter as they tried desperately to fix him. But they moved carefully, forced to use extreme caution while navigating gaps in panels that hadn't quite fallen back into place, mindful of the possibility of parts shifting without warning.

Sizzle and Outback scouted the surrounding area, traversing the upheaved landscape in hopes of finding anyone wounded in the attack. Defensor was found, scattered into his respective components. They couldn't tell if the separation was a conscious decision or not, but the damage the Protectobots suffered sent chills racing through them. Hotspot was the worst. His entire torso looked like it had been through a trash compactor. Outback considered how his friend arrived in his current condition, and conceded it was a perfect analogy. Hotspot couldn't talk, but his optics managed a dull blink when they spoke to him. This shoulders were uneven slopes, the connection ports charred and torn. One of Defensor's chest panels still clung stubbornly to Hotspot, they had no idea how they were going to remove it.
As if Defensor predicted a later need for him, First Aid was thrown clear of the impact area, forcefully ejected from the gestalt. His helmet was blackened, his visor cracked, and he was covered in dents, but he was functional. First Aid didn't quite believe it himself. The last thing he recalled was being in the collective Defensor sentience when he was suddenly removed. He saw Defensor smash into the ground a moment before he hit the earth himself and blacked out.
Without missing a beat, First Aid fell into his role of medic and began tending to the wounded, patching circuitry and rigging makeshift connections to allow for better electron flow. Blades and Groove were unresponsive, their systems barely functional from the trauma. Blurr joined him upon his return from Autobot City II, ordered by Magnus to help bring any injured Autobots back inside Metroplex. Blurr took in the scene of destruction and, amazingly, worked in silence.

Ultra Magnus stood outside Metroplex, trying to assess the damage to the city and the surrounding area. It was times like this that made him grateful they kept Metroplex miles from the human city, there was no telling the amount of destruction that could have been caused. Magnus held his damaged arm, his internal circuits burned terribly. He did his best to try to ignore it, though he began to wonder if this was what human rabies felt like. He winced, his audio still ringing from Tux's sonic blast.

"Uhhnvv uuuu..."
Magnus looked to Metroplex, startled. "Metroplex?"
"..bove...you..."
"I don't understand, what are you-"
A loud, deafening thunder sounded.
"Above you!" Springer shouted and pointed to the sky. Omega Supreme split the swath of smoke choking the atmosphere, the thrusters in his feet brilliant and blaring as he landed with a crashing impact.
"Arrival, too late." There was a dark tone to his voice as he looked about, "Battle, missed."
Fizzle, the first of the Sparkabots to arrive after the battle, pulled up to Magnus and transformed, "I thought he was on Cybertron, what's he doing here?"
Magnus stared up at the titan. Though Omega's body usually bore signs of wear, Magnus could see distinct slash marks along his chest and arms. Energy burns riddled his forearms. Had he encountered the Renegades? Then he froze, noticing a green craft that looked small in Omega's massive claw.
"Omega!" he called, "What are you doing with Cosmos?" Much to his surprise, Cosmos himself answered.
"He won't listen to me, tell him to let me go Ultra Magnus!"
"Cosmos, compromised. Judgment, clouded."
"What are you talking about Omega?"
Omega held Cosmos towards them, as if offering the Autobot to the others. "Enemy, being harbored."
Springer's face matched the confusion of the others. "What do you mean? There's a Gobot... inside Cosmos?"
"You don't understand, she doesn't mean us any harm!"
"Gobot friends mean PLENTY harm!" Slag growled. He remained in dinosaur mode, his mouth brimming with fire as he snarled up at Cosmos.
"What's he talking about?"
Springer crossed his arms, mindful not to put pressure on his hands, "Oh nothing, we just got our circuits scrambled by her pals, that's what happened!"
Magnus's brow furrowed. "We've lost Autobots to these... GoBots, Cosmos. Eject her, now."
"No! Not until you promise me she won't be harmed!"
"We're not Decepticons Cosmos! We need information so we know what we're dealing with!"
Cosmos went silent, thinking. He didn't get a chance to do it for long. Omega assessed the situation, processed his options, then decided to make Cosmos' choice for him. He raised his clawed hand quickly, the motion causing the Autobots gathered to step back. He looked ready to strike something with Cosmos. He swung his arm back down in a sharp, downward arc, stopping abruptly, a few feet from the ground. A loud CLANG! Sounded inside Cosmos and they gasped. There really was something in there after all.
"Omega!" Cosmos almost screamed, "What are you dooooinnnn-"
Omega swung him upward again, then down, shaking Cosmos with a violent intensity. Inside, Cosmos could feel Pathfinder's body slam against his walls, hit the floor, only to be thrown again with each motion Omega made. He realized what was happening, if he didn't let her out, she'd be smashed into a pile of parts inside of him.
"NO!" he yelped, opening his compartment door as Omega completed another downward swing, the opposing force ejected Pathfinder and sent her tumbling to the ground. She landed, unconscious, in a puff of dust. Omega's grip loosened slightly, and Cosmos buzzed free of his grasp with a shout as he landed beside her and transformed. He lifted her in his arms gingerly, looking her over for damage. When he looked up, he was surrounded by Autobots.
"Cosmos." Magnus took a step forward, saw Cosmos take a step back, and sighed. "Listen, I don't know what your connection to this Gobot is, but understand that we just got attacked by her people. If she has answers, we need to-"
"Enough talk!" Grimlock shoved Magnus out of the way and stalked towards Cosmos. "We get attacked by Gobots and you make friends?!" He reached for Pathfinder. Cosmos's eyes went wild, flaring red, "I said NO you lummox!"
In the blink of an eye Grimlock transformed into his T-Rex form, curling himself towards Cosmos, teeth bared. Cosmos spun and scooped Pathfinder back into himself as he transformed into his UFO mode, various panels across his exterior lit up and hummed as his weapon systems came online.
"Back off!" he broadcast his voice in a deeper tone, the heat from his weapons distorting the area around them, ready to go off if Grimlock came any closer.

"Wait! I-agg!" Magnus inhaled sharply and clutched a hand to his damaged forearm, it crackled angrily, orange jolts of unknown energy reached from the wound.

"Ultra Magnus!" the voice startled him, he looked down at his good arm and saw an active light flashing, indicating an incoming transmission. It was Optimus Prime.
"What is your current status?"
Magnus automatically routed Prime's communication to an external audio projection. "We've been better. Metroplex, zoom in on my location and relay signal to Optimus."

Optimus stared at a blank monitor that jumped to life, uploading images beamed directly from Metroplex. He saw Cosmos in his craft form, weapons bright, every one of them aimed at Grimlock, who looked ready to charge.
"Cosmos!" he bellowed, "Grimlock!"
"Optimus?" Cosmos' weapons dimmed significantly. Grimlock's head perked up like a cat, swiveling around towards Magnus. He stood with his good arm held out, Prime's voice radiating from him. It was surreal.
"Prime," Magnus managed, "I've got Cosmos here, he has one of the GoBots with him."
"Cosmos, is this true?"
"Yes Optimus." He added quickly, "But Pathfinder is a Guardian, she doesn't mean us any harm!"
"The Guardians just destroyed Iacon." Prime responded, his voice flat. "Cosmos, I want to speak with you when I arrive, I want to hear everything Pathfinder has told you, and then I want to speak to her. In the meantime, I want her confined within Metroplex. No outside contact, not even with you Cosmos."
"But Optimus-!"
"I know you have her best interests in mind, and I assure you, if anything happens to her, they'll answer to me when I arrive. But right now we need her confined and we need her shielded. If she isn't already emitting a distress signal, she very well may when she wakes up, and we cannot allow the Guardians to reclaim her until we get some answers."
Something in Prime's voice made it clear this was not an open-ended conversation. Cosmos sighed, then slowly transformed, landing with Pathfinder in his arms. Prime turned his attention to Grimlock as he transformed back to robot mode.
"Grimlock. You and the Dinobots make certain that nothing happens to her. I'm sure the Guardians are going to be looking for her, and if they find out where she is, they will try to retrieve her. If that happens, you and the Dinobots do what you best."
Grimlock glared down at Cosmos. He preferred Prime during times of war, there was a strategic coldness that peeked through on occasion, and it was in those times he openly granted the Dinobots permission to cut loose without fear of repercussions. He almost hoped this time would never end. "Me not agree, keeping Gobot functional..." he grumbled, trying to keep the anticipation of another battle out of his voice, "...but okay."
"Good. We'll be arriving shortly, in the meantime, carry on as you were. Contact me if there are any unusual developments."
"Yes Prime."

Optimus cut communications and folded his arms, turning towards the seated Autobots.
"It looks like we may have finally found our advantage."