Jazzninja545

Bulkhead sat against the wall, optics shuttering lazily as he tried to fight sleep. Even for a Wrecker, the last few orbital cycles, Pit, the last half orn, had been draining.   He just wanted to sleep. He hadn’t last night. Another perimeter trip. This time a Decepticon tank. He and Impactor were able to bring it down- mostly, Impactor, but this was getting old fast. They HAD to leave soon. Fistitron had picked up chatter. They knew they were still in the area, and they were getting closer all the time. The thought made his fists tighten. He never backed down from a fight, but, this was one fight they could not make it out of alive. E

 “You REALLY fragged us here….” The heavy pedesteps behind him seemed to accentuate the point of the large Wrecker speaking.   He didn’t care.   Well, maybe he did a little. But, beside the point.   Walking around was starting to irk him. The green mech- Bulkhead, that was his name right- had offered to take him to the surface. But, he turned that idea down. The last thing he needed to see was a smoldering pile of rubble that used to be Crystal City in the distance. His mood was already….well, he supposed delicate would be an accurate assumption. Mostly due to the mini argument going on in his helm.   “I m

The air was chill in the eternal twilight. Usually, no sound dared invade the gilded hall’s thick stillness at this hour. However, tonight was an exception to break all exceptions. Silently, save for the click clack of pedes on the bronze and metallic crimson floor, the mechs and femmes filed in one by one. None dared to speak in the solemnest of the affair. Tonight, in the great halls of the gilded forge, the Forge Fire parliament would pass judgment. Soon, the seats of the halls had been filled; mechs and femmes on the sides waiting patiently. Only the two seats upon the stairs, leading to the statue of the great Solace Prime at the

The alarms blared as the hull shuttered. The bridge, normally cool grey, was bathed in yellow emergency lights. "CAPTAIN!" A lithe seeker, colored gold with metallic crimson swirl markings yelled. He was gripping the back of a seat for stability as his wings fluttered. His optics, accentuated by his Camien facial markings, flicked back to the rapid red and pink script scrolling across the monitor. "Yule-Fire, Damage?" The blue and white commander barked, turning to look at her crew. SnowCrash's voice was laced with worry, and her crew knew it. "We've-" BOOM!!! Another blast rocked the ship, making the alarms whine and SnowCrash grunt in pain