Overcharge's optics opened slowly as his central processing unit booted up. His sensors couldn't make sense of what he saw for a while. His last recorded memories were of him on the floor, of Skids exchanging words with the Seekers as his functions shut down. Skids... that traitor. Was he planning this all along? Or did that damned tube bring him back wrong? A backhand to the facial plate snapped the Corporal back to reality. The light blue sky, the beautiful rock formations, the lush green flora. All gone. Now, it was all clouds, ugly concrete monoliths and carnage.
The white Seeker fired his weapons upon non-combatants, and in the distance, he could see the orange rally car standing by indifferently, as the carbon-based sentients were mowed down in front of him. Seething with rage and disgust, he stared at the conehead right in front of him. His arms and legs tried desperately to break free, so that he could kill the Cybertronian, turn it into molten metal with his bare hands. His vocabulator could barely spit out the following words. "You monsters... you scum... just WHAT did you do?!"
Overcharge felt frustrated. What had looked to be a nice day of blending in with human society and refining his alter ego turned out to be thrown to the drones. It wasn't that big of a loss for him, after all, it was his first time hiding among humans. Now, Slugfest had transformed, revealing that drones were capable of using alt modes. Giving up on diverting their foe away from Oaklio, Sargeant Hound transformed as well, revealing himself to the shotgun-wielding Decepticon, and any humans foolish enough to stick around. When the green Autobot transformed, after living untold thousands of cycles with the humans, he knew things were serious enough to switch to his true form himself. Taking advantage of the fact Slugfest's optics were on the Sargeant, Overcharge transformed and revealed a new weapon, akin to a big pistol, crafted by Perceptor from the remains of the Hope's attackers.
Here's hoping this Empathic Magnum is the one to put you down. The irony won't be lost on me. Aiming for the back of Slugfest's torso and head, Overcharge fired several times from behind, holding the weapon with both manipulators and firmly standing on the ground, so as to keep the recoil under control. Even with these measures, every shot fired applied considerable force on Overcharge and the pavement he was standing over, so much that by the sixth shot, he had sinked a few feet into it, leaving a detailed imprint of his foot soles on the road.
For a few seconds after Trent and Kate had gotten out of the car, the holo was left staring at the green bills. Ah, my first wad of Statesian currency! What could I buy with this? Perhaps a new spaceship? Who said we have to fix the Hope? It then dawned upon him that he had no way to interact safely with the rectangular pieces of paper. On second thought, maybe I should just hand these and any others over to Perceptor, see what he makes of this raw resource.
While he blocked the street, contemplating what to do with the proceeds of his new job, another Decepticon drone attacked, this one fairly more menacing than the last. Rudely leaving a big recess on his hood and roaring over him, Overcharge quickly fought back. "What's wrong with you really?! I can't even complete a fare?!" he exclaimed before siphoning energy off the nearby energy lamps and transformer boxes. He didn't really have a need for more energy, but instead wanted to stun the stego, which was between him and the energy sources.
In addition, he directed some of his stored energy outwards to help in his attack. Hopefully, this would be enough to at least get the robo-dino off him. As he did this, he called for his friends on the radio. "Sargeant! Private! Scienceofficer! A drone is attacking me next to the theater! We need to get this bogey out of the town so we can kick the scrap out of him somewhere nice and quiet!"
Excited to finally speak to a real human, Overcharge eagerly followed Hound, Perceptor and Hot Shot through the forest. While his own experience with his past alt mode helped him traverse the terrain with more ease than his fellow crewmembers, the land yacht he had based his new appearance on was less willing to negotiate with dirt and mud. As they found a paved road, the land yacht in him found itself grateful for the softer ride. Inside, a there was a holo of a well-built man with receding blonde hair, wearing aviator sunglasses and a black jacket with an orange shirt. Having watched a movie about a flying taxi driver and a woman with red hair, this was Overcharge's idea of an average American cabbie.
Wanting to look his best for his first human passenger, the teal Bot had stored some energy within himself, planning to use it to clean his exterior when no eyes were looking his way. He found his chance at the end of a tunnel they were driving on - as he drove out of it, Overcharge purged the drying mud and the dust. However, when his optics adjusted to the light, he was met with a sight far more beautiful than his own clean bonnet: Earth's beautiful landscape. Mesmerized by it, the Autobot said almost nothing during their journey.
When they arrived in Oaklio, he regained his speech. This city was apparently not as advanced as the one in the movie. For one, there were no hovercars, which allowed him and the others to blend in all the better. When Sargeant Hound proposed they split up and keep talking over the radio, Overcharge agreed and headed for the center. The first order of the day was to get a feel for the surroundings and layout of the town. Reconnaisance was his job after all! Oblivious, the Autobot Corporal paraded around the settlement, having forgotten his top light on as he memorized landmarks, observed other vehicles and tried to follow traffic rules. Hmmm. I should've left a little dirt on. 12% dirt seems to be fashionable around here.
Their luck appeared to be on the turn when Hot Shot rescued Perceptor from the Ravages, which strangely, started to retreat. They could've won if only they had pressed on... While happy about it at first, Overcharge then found it suspicious that the likes of them, vicious and bloodthirsty, would give up on their attack so suddenly.
"Officer, something reeks about all this... Why did they just do that? They had the upper hand."
A possible answer presented itself when his teammates turned around to look at him, probably without the slightest clue either and eager to tell him about it. In doing so, they spotted a metallic bird speeding towards him, and warned him about it. I see how it is! They were a distraction! This bird here's probably the one with the really important mission! But you won't get away with it!
His body still jolting with electrons, he directed all his energy towards his fist, then turned around, trying to punch the robot bird in its shiny, pointy beak. "Electron... PUUUUUNCH!"
The situation was becoming more complicated by the minute. The drones swarmed the four of them, despite their best efforts to keep them at bay. Having no weapons to his disposal, Overcharge was relegated to punching Ravages to keep them off him, and punch them he did. Then, he was ordered to fall back and guard the cargo bay by Perceptor, but the bot who gave the order was immediately ganged up on by more of the drones. Immediately, he had to decide between the ship and his friend.
Choosing to put his faith on the Private getting a hold of himself and helping Perceptor before it was too late, Overcharge transformed into his alt mode and sped towards the cargo hold. He then spoke over the comms with Hot Shot, trying to scare him into reason. "Private! I cannot turn back now! You must help the Science Officer! That's a direct order! GOT IT?!" On his way to the cargo hold, he ran down several Ravage drones rather effectively, before transforming back upon arriving and siphoning energy from a loose cable.
Is this it? Do we die defending this piece of scrap that might just not take us off the planet anyways? Is this really how I go?
The situation was, suffice to say, less than ideal. Overcharge had little energy in store and was caught outside, without any nearby power sources to feed on. The four Autobots were heavily outnumbered and surrounded by Ravage drones, as Perceptor called them, which approached them slowly but at a steady pace. To make things worse, the bot in charge was none other than a Science Officer, and he wasn't giving out any orders that could be of any help.
Forced to think of something on a whim, the teal Corporal made a suggestion, not wanting to question Perceptor's authority, even if he didn't seem the type that'd care about that. "Perceptor... Sir. Maybe we should form a circle? They're many, but they're weak. We could reduce our blind spots to a minimum and make it so they can't gang up on any single one of us..." After his statement, he adopted a fighting posture. Come on, then. I'm gonna beat the scrap out of you monsters... as many of you as I can.
"Damn it!" Overcharge saw his only remaining ally getting shot in the head by one of the Frenzies, and from his experience in the urban battlefield, he knew he was very unlikely to keep Skids alive long enough to reach the medical bay. Hotlink was beyond what Overcharge considered the point of no return, and had been tossed next to some highly conspicuous crates. This, at least, made the process of triage easier for him. Siphoning some more energy, he quickly ran towards Skids and picked him up, passively transferring some of his stored energy to his body. Hopefully, that and the energy he'd pick along the way would be enough to keep him alive for a run to the ER. He intended to abandon the cargo bay and retreat wherever his odds looked better. And I am to retreat, I might as well try to save Skids.
Next, he pointed his free hand towards Hotlink's propellant tanks and quickly fired a single blast of concentrated energy towards them. If his hunch was correct, the conspicuous crates contained highly volatile ammunition, and had been made bright red on purpose so Cargobots would know to handle them carefully. Igniting the propellant tanks could result in a big enough explosion to act as a smokescreen, behind which he could leave the room with Skids and maybe even take out a pair of Cons. Goodbye, Hotlink. I'm really sorry for this. I did look forward to meeting you.
"Eek!" Overcharge, who had been following Skids' trail in his alt mode, quickly steered behind another pile of cargo and transformed as well to avoid the barrage. Staring down the barrel of ten assault rifles and probably about to be charged at with twenty battering rams, he understood that if he and Skids intended to survive without having to run away, they'd need to make an offensive play. Raising his left arm towards a junction box, he addressed his teammate. "Skids, right?! We won't be able to hold them off! I'm gonna try something, so have your gun ready!"
He siphoned energy from the box until his lights and optics had a certain shine to them, and then prepared to make his move. "You better be on a fresh magazine..." Then, he put his right arm over the boxes and started discharging his energy on the Decepticon mooks, quickly panning his arm to douse the ones on the left first, then the ones on the middle and the right. "Now! Left to right, fire, fire, fire!" His intention was to stun as many of them as he could, so that they'd drop their guard and allow Skids to down as many of them as possible.
If things went their way and they were to dispatch the Decepticons easily, perhaps Hotlink was not beyond saving. Most helpfully, the projectiles had not ruptured his flamethrower's fuel tank, so he wouldn't go up in flames if nobody hit it too hard. However, that was exactly why he couldn't go close until every enemy in the room had been taken care of.
While the Hope made its way towards Krogo VI, Overcharge couldn't think of much but the planet itself. Like Perceptor, he was excited to explore it, even if he was stuck guarding the ship with a reformed Decepticon. I'm the recon specialist. Sooner or later they're gonna have to put somebody else in place and send me somewhere far away. Entering the cantina, he briefly observed an Autobot getting their daily ration from a dispenser. This made him think, as he walked past the room and into another hallway. Though there might not be any energy for me to siphon in such a planet. I might have to get some from the ship's generator before I go anywhere.
He was also excited to socialize with the rest of his teammates, and get to know them, but Overcharge knew better than to find them right away and pressure them into playing cards or talking. Just like in the big metallic jungle, work would bring them all together. Wandering aimlessly around the ship, he stopped to observe Cybertron from a window, becoming smaller and more distant each passing second. Goodbye Cybertron. Will we see each other again?
“No, no! Please be careful with that!”
Two Autobots held a large cabinet tightly after hearing this statement, putting it next to the Teletraan Mobile in the HOPE’s main lobby. While the ship was large, a majority of it’s space was reserved for the cargo they’d be transporting back to Cybertron. A bridge, their single lobby and barracks were all this Autobot crew would have to themselves.
“Thank you.” Perceptor helped them scoot the cabinet into position. He could only bring so much equipment with him on their trip, but the Science Officer felt it would be necessary for research. Various beakers and tools surrounded the area, with Perceptor well aware this could annoy the other crew members. “It’s… not perfect…”
“Well, fix it yourself. We’re done here.” The two Autobot helpers quickly left the lobby before Perceptor could respond. “No, that’s not what I… meant.” Looking defeated, the Science Officer glanced around the area. The ship was clearly run down, with paint scraped off and metal peeling from the corners, but the war effort meant other projects, mostly weapons, had to be prioritized. With everything set up, Perceptor left to go join up with his Leader on the boarding ramp.
“Sir. I have finished my assignment.” Walking down the ramp toward Sentinel Prime, Perceptor kept a very professional demeanor with the Autobot’s greatest commander. “Do you have any other orders?” Sentinel Prime chuckled to himself. Perceptor was one of the few Autobots he knew who would willingly ask for MORE work. “Not yet. We better wait for the other recruits to arrive first. They should-“
“I see one now, sir.”
Perceptor’s shoulder scope zoomed in on a single vehicle speeding toward their location. “Which one is it? My optics aren’t what they used to be.” Sentinel Prime admitted, trying to squint. “I wouldn’t know sir. None of us were given the crew log.” The Leader grunted, turning to look up the ramp. “That Kup, I swear.”
Getting a very close look, Perceptor wondered who his new companion would be and what position he’d fill. “Interesting…”