It was unbearably quiet at the site of the shuttle crash. Rattlelatch sat outside the gaping hole in its side, his arms crossed but resting slack on his lap. He had started out holding his sore arm but didn't even feel he had that much energy at the moment. It was superficial pain; it was his right arm, where he had the built-in micro precision laser. It had seen more work in the last twelve hours than in the past year. Maybe it was more his elbow and shoulder joints that hurt from holding up the laser and maneuvering it around so much. He tried not to let the memories of all that work go marching through his processor yet again. He had taken a break to try to clear those images, if just for a short while. There was still plenty more to do, and more than he wanted to see.

He was, after all, in this location to salvage the remains of those who had been on board the shuttle, along with Hound, Sea Spray, and Gears -- who was stuck in alt mode but since he was otherwise functional, he was sent out that way without repairs. They had gotten Prowl and Ratchet clear, and Hound and Sea Spray were currently working on Brawn. Rattlelatch had needed a break and Hound let him go, knowing the minibot was already weighed down enough by his work in med bay. The scout had also seen the emotions storming across 'Latch's face upon seeing Ironhide. He himself had been shocked to the verge of sickness on seeing the old codger's state, but sensed there was something more to 'Latch's reaction than the death of a faithful comrade. Hound didn't recall them being particularly close given their differing fields of work, but he wasn't about to ask. He didn't want to shatter the moment or cause a distraction from what they had to do. Instead he patted 'Latch's shoulder and went to check on Gears.

The chain of command had disappeared right out from under them. Optimus, Prowl, Ratchet, and Red Alert were gone. Jazz's status was unknown. Ultra Magnus and Perceptor were somewhere in space. That left Blaster as their only officer, and Hound knew the strain had already gotten to the normally jovial mech. Blaster was certainly up to the job, he had fielded command of his own personal Cassette troop quickly enough, but this had gotten to be one time where the boombox couldn't summon up a song to pigeonhole the situation. It had felt unnaturally silent when Blaster met with him, the Protectobots, and a couple of others who were mostly functional. Hound had expected that condition alone would elevate them all to officer positions. Blaster hadn't said anything about that yet, however.

Rattlelatch wasn't aware of any meetings, wasn't interested, either. All he knew was his responsibility had increased tenfold and he was on a precipice of sorrow knowing he could do absolutely nothing to change things here. No one alive to save. He shifted and slammed a fist into the ground, crying out in frustration. I didn't know...it's not like I could have gotten here in time...If there ever was a window of "in time" for these mechs. He bowed his head, then stood and climbed past the wrecked wall into the shuttle.

There was a trail of dim energon leading to the door where Brawn had been carried out. The only one left to be removed was Ironhide but no one had been sure how to go about it. His armor had been melted along with the floor panel beneath him so when it all cooled, it was one fused mess. It was horrifying to look at and Rattlelatch felt his fuel tank lurch as he looked again. This time he forced himself to remain there and make his processor focus on the problem, not the subject. He picked out the edges of the floor panel and extended the laser from its forearm compartment once again. With a few taps on the keys he set it to cutting strength. Then he knelt and began separating the one panel from the rest of the floor.

Hound returned as he was finishing the cutting on the side closest to the console. " 'Latch, you should have waited," he said softly, meeting the minibot's optics when he stood.

Rattlelatch made a non-committal shrug, unable to trust his vocalizer just then. Sea Spray joined them a few seconds later and together they worked to free Ironhide's body from the floor and the merged panel. Afterward Rattlelatch made an attempt to separate some of the panel. He gave up shortly and they brought Ironhide out for Gears to carry back to Autobot City with Hound walking beside him to help balance the load. The other two minis remained to see if any data from just before the crash could be recovered.

It was a small matter to fix a few of the damaged circuits after everything else he'd had to repair that day, but once the main console was online, Rattlelatch found a new challenge. "Encrypted? No one would have had time to do that...or with this complexity."

"Soooundwave's doooing?" Sea Spray suggested.

Rattlelatch nodded and looked over the streams of data. Complex enough, but he knew how to break it. Though long abandoned, his burglar days still came in handy. He had sworn off those activities but desperate times... He would have liked to clear it with Blaster but he hadn't fixed his own comm yet and wasn't sure he could drop hints while borrowing Sea Spray's. He glanced toward the navigational console. "Could you see if you can pull up anything over there? I'm going to try to short and reboot the memory bank here, see if it'll come up how it was before it was messed with."

"Yoouu got it, chiiief."

As soon as the other mini was seated, Rattlelatch opened the panel beside the keyboard and began typing commands. He flipped down the analytical lenses from either side of his helm. As certain data appeared, he applied a touch of laser energy to the boards, connecting with the sensors in the lenses. Suggestions for unraveling the encryption hopped across them. He had to try a few of them before breaking it. At once the files of flight data and all disruptions popped up. He did a little more typing, bringing up the internal security feed.

"Puh...Puh...Pri..."

The oath died in his vocalizer when he saw how everyone fell and what had happened to Ironhide. He slammed both fists on the console. Sea Spray jumped in his seat, jerking he head to glance over. Rattlelatch gave him a grim look and replayed the recording. The other mini bowed his head, rendered speechless.

'Latch downloaded the feed as well as the other data he was able to unlock. There were a couple of things that required genuine officer clearance so he left them alone. He re-encrypted the system with a prompt for said officers and then he and Sea Spray went back to Autobot City.

~*~

Hound was waiting at the door to tell 'Latch he was needed in med bay. Fear seizing his circuits, the mini hesitated. He didn't want to see anymore of the dead, did not want anyone else's life slipping through his fingers. In that moment he wished he had remained a burglar.

But he forced himself to move toward med bay. He half expected to see another line of mechs out the door, but no one was in the hall. Instead he found the task was merely to replace a few chips Hoist had burned out doing his work. It just happened to be a set of circuits the humans couldn't safely get at. The other mechs who had been assisting were busy elsewhere. Rattlelatch completed the replacements then sank down on a bench, air hissing out of his intakes in a long sigh. Sparkplug and Carly watched in silence.

After about thirty seconds Hoist came online, optic band blinking. He sighed as well. "Thank you, Rattlelatch. I had a feeling that would happen but, well, what was I to do?"

The minibot nodded, elbows on his knees and head cradled in his hands.

"You've done well," Hoist said in a tentative voice, "They'd be proud of you. For what it's worth, I am."

'Latch lifted his head far enough to cast a weak smile at him. "Thanks...this wasn't the final exam I was expecting, though."

"None of us expected it. Although...we should have been prepared for it."

Rattlelatch nodded. In a way we were preparing...but not fast enough.

Hoist rubbed at his hands with an already-smudged oil rag, turning to regard the room. "Perhaps we should start in on clean up. I presume the worst is over for the time being. Blaster gave orders to start fixing up the base as soon as those on their feet were able and willing."

"I guess so..." Rattlelatch looked around, then focused on Hoist with an alarmed expression. "Grapple. Is he..?"

"I was able to stabilize him again. First Aid had the ICU moved further into the base to protect them better. He is there now."

'Latch nodded. He hadn't even noticed First Aid hadn't been there to repair Hoist. He was starting to get used to not accounting for those he couldn't immediately see. He silently cursed himself for it.

"He'll do all right as CMO."

"No offense, Hoist, but I'd rather not think about who needs to be replaced right now."

"Forgive a mech. I think I need to ramble to save my sanity."

Rattlelatch lowered his head. "Good point...I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I completely understand how you feel."

Sparkplug cleared his throat. "We're all outta sorts right now."

'Latch now looked at him, then Carly. "Daniel! Do you know--?"

"With Ultra Magnus and the others," Carly interrupted. She then paused, chewing her lower lip.

Sparkplug continued for her. "Spike's the unknown right now. Something attacked Cybertron's moons. We heard first from Jazz, then he and Cliffjumper went MIA, and then Spike and Bumblebee reported in about trying to stop the thing -- a 'monster planet' -- then we lost contact with them, too."

Rattlelatch tried to find words but in the end just hung his head. "I'm sorry, I haven't even heard half of what's been going on. But m-maybe there's a chance we'll find them?" Launching a search through outer space seemed rather daunting when they were still searching the wreckage of their base.

Sparkplug hugged Carly then went to start picking up some loose bolts on the floor. Moving in accord, Hoist and Rattlelatch turned their attention to the larger pieces of metal and spilled supply containers.

~*~

It took several hours, but it was a relatively uneventful several hours. Things were arranged back in their cabinets and the scrap set for recycling, but oil and energon would stain the tables and floor for weeks to come. A few mechs were brought in but the injuries were minor and they were soon on their way. The last patient of the day was Hound. After all his searching for others, he had finally run down. Hoist ran a quick diagnostic. "Other than the repairs from earlier, you need a rest cycle."

Hound nodded, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the examination table. "Sounds good to me. I think the green team here have all earned it." There were puzzled glances exchanged, then 'Latch and Hoist looked down at themselves. They joined Hound as he chuckled.

"So what do we count as?" Sparkplug asked while stowing his own tools in their chest.

"Honorary members?" Hound suggested.

The Witwicky patriarch shrugged. "I guess."

Rattlelatch scrubbed at an oil spot on the work bench to avoid looking at anyone as he said, "I have to say...it feels weird to laugh right now..."

Hound smiled gently. "I know none of us intend to be disrespectful, so to be honest, is there any harm in it? Recovery of all kinds starts when we're in the clear." The others nodded their agreement.

"Knock knock," came Powerglide's voice from the doorway. He saluted when they looked over. "Blaster's calling for everyone at least seventy-five percent functional to report to the conference room. I think the first order of biz is to get the comm center working again so we aren't taking shifts playing messenger mech."

Rattlelatch stuck his bad leg forward, regarding it. "I think that's less than twenty-five percent. I'm in." He glanced at Hound.

"I can rest during the meeting," the scout responded to both the minibot and Hoist.

Powerglide turned to leave. "Meetcha there." Hoist offered Carly and Sparkplug a ride. Hound opted to walk with 'Latch, who was still unable to transform into his compact car alt mode.

~*~

The number of mechs who fell into the seventy-five percent or better range was pitifully small. The Protectobots were in the best shape out of everyone -- Rattlelatch quickly excluded First Aid, who was not in attendance, seeing as the medic would be run down soon enough. Most of the Aerialbots were next in terms of condition since they had arrived on the tail end of the fighting. Slingshot was missing his nose cone and an arm but wasn't acting concerned. Sea Spray and Beachcomber were there, talking with Trailbreaker who had no armor on his entire left arm. The Cassettobots were loitering by the podium, incuding a groggy-looking Ramhorn.

'Latch tried to remember who he had worked on, but it all went by in a blur of diagnoses rather than faces. He hoped no one would ask him about a follow-up check.

Blaster stepped up to the podium and called for quiet. He had a line of bullet marks across his tape deck door and the casette window itself was shattered. Rattlelatch was betting the only time the boombox had gone to med bay was to look for someone. "First I wanna say thank you all who pulled themselves together t' get here. I don't gotta say what a mess we got on our hands here. I'm the unofficial City Commander until we hear back from Ultra Magnus an' Co.. I put Cosmos on what communications we got right now so we'll get the word when there is any.

"I also want to say we got First Aid off in ICU so that's why he ain't here. Other than those two, you're lookin' at the Autobot army. Hopefully the rest of the mechs in repair right now will join us within the next twelve hours. But I know our maintenance crew has been pushed far already. I want those of you with the skills t' back 'em up as often as you can.

"Ultra Magnus didn't have the time t' give detailed instructions but most of you know the word goin' 'round. I'm gonna assign teams t' clean up particular areas. Please stick t' it unless I tell ya otherwise. Can anyone report on the current tidiness of any place in the base?"

Skydive raised his hand and confirmed the landing strip was clear in the event Ultra Magnus returned. Sea Spray listed a few major corridors. Hoist confirmed med bay. "Good." Blaster nodded on the last, gaze switching from Hoist to Rattlelatch. "I know you need fixin', too, but if you both could assess the comm lines an' see if you can get anything runnin', I'd appreciate it. I ain't got the personal power right now t' broadcast far an' we need t' be able t' keep in touch around here without havin' t' run relay."

"We'll do the best we can," Hoist replied.

Rattlelatch nodded, then hesitated before asking, "Would you like some repairs yourself...sir?"

Blaster grinned. "I'll get there when I get there, but thanks, 'Latch. An' don't worry 'bout the 'sir' thing. I ain't that cut out for this gig."

Without even thinking about it Rattlelatch saluted, then he and Hoist turned to go about their assignment.

~*~

"Knock knock."

"Hello again, Powerglide." It had become a customary exchange and made Rattlelatch want to get the communications array online that much faster. Soundwave's minions had trashed the place pretty well during their battle with Blaster's crew. "What do you want?"

"As the humans say, I hear it through the grapevine that Broadside is on his way with Fahrenheight's team."

'Latch immediately stopped what he was doing to stare at him. "Finally?"

"Well, well, don't you sound impatient."

"Oh, be quiet." Embarrassment flitted across the green minibot's face. "It's just we could use more 'bots in good condition."

"Nah, I think you just want to see Lockout again."

"Can it, unless you want me to program this thing to include an unflattering message about Astoria anytime anyone sends a comm."

"You win. Anyway, they should be here sometime in the next two hours. I'm pretty sure no one needs repairs."

'Latch sighed in relief. Thank Primus someone around here is unscathed. "All right. Keep us posted."

"Will do. But get this stuff running again so me and the Aerialbots can stop actin' as relay stations," Powerglide said with good-natured humor.

If just so we can hear things first hand. Rattlelatch studied the console he had been piecing together and reached for another replacement circuit board. A little while later Hoist came in with the last of the supplies they needed, and then it was only a matter of an hour and change until the communications array was back online.

Blaster came to test it out for himself. He transformed and hooked in, first opening an Autobot-only frequency. "Callin' all deployed troops. This is Autobot City. If you're receivin', respond so we know if this thing's on." Within seconds Skydive, Air Raid, and Silverbolt replied. 'Latch gave Hoist a thumb's up. "Roger that, mechs. Bring it on in."

Then a deep voice that could only be described as 'sturdy' came over the line. "This is Fahrenheight. We are within range of the city. Visuals confirm the report of battle. What is your status?"

Rattlelatch frowned. What did the triple changer think with the way everything was wrecked?

Blaster's tone reflected a similar opinion. "One word: slagged. I'll brief you when you get in."

"Roger, sir. Fahrenheight out."

Blaster closed the outgoing frequency and sighed, muttering, "Gonna have t' get used t' hearin' that now." He emitted a set of low tones. "All right, let's see how our long distance is holdin' up. Callin' Ultra Magnus or any of the crew with him. This is Earth. If you can respond, please do so. I repeat, Ultra Magnus or crew, respond."

He waited but had a feeling the static he was picking up was all that existed to be had. After five minutes he repeated the message, then at ten minutes he disconnected, transforming back to robot mode. "I've set it so if anyone out there replies I'll get an alert. But it looks like we'll be in the dark for a little longer. I'm gonna meet with 'Height an' see how that trip turned out. Anybody who wants t' tag along is welcome. Or, y'know, take a recharge."

~*~

Fahrenheight was tallest amongst the triple changers currently on Earth, standing only a head sorter than Jetfire. His alt modes were a Cybertronian jet and a quad-turret tank, his main ammunition in tank and robot modes being incindiary projectiles. The same cannons on his forearms in robot mode were under his wings in jet mode but switched to laser pulses because he couldn't generate the necessary chemicals in that mode. He was maroon and dull yellow, his jet cockpit canopy on his legs and his tank treads on his arms, half of them folded into his upper arm compartments. His wings were mounted on his back, tips folded inside the main sections, his tank hatch making up his chest. At all times he was a professional soldier. This was what was good and bad about him.

Blaster couldn't stand him for reasons he only partially knew. While the boombox appreciated having another officer-caliber fellow on hand, he wouldn't have minded someone who could help lighten the situation. Empties couldn't be choosers, however, and a functional mech was a functional mech. Even if said mech was eying clean up procedures with disapproval. "Before ya say anythin', you weren't here, so let's just stick t' your mission, got it?"

Fahrenheight raised both optic ridges but only nodded. "For what it is worth given what I have heard of the Decepticons since coming in, we succeeded."

Blaster left out a wry huff. "I guess that's good enough. Whenever we pick up the pieces here, we'll put that data t' use. Is Lockout hangin' on t' it?"

"Unless there is a functional database to download it to, yes."

"I assume she's wanderin' the base right now?"

"As far as I know. She and the others came in with me."

Blaster glanced past the triple changer to double check. Broadside and Smokescreen were also in the room but Lockout and Firewall weren't in sight. He could hazard a guess who they had gone to find.

~*~

At that moment the female minibot Blaster was looking for, along with her companion -- who was of average height -- were about to walk past Engineering. Lockout was gray with dark teal and pale blue limbs, the front half of her alt mode positioned backpack-like behind her shoulders. Her helm was rounded with angled receiver antennae on either side. Firewall was red and gray, alt mode hood split across his chest with one set of wheels behind his shoulders, the other at his ankles. His front doors hung along his upper arms. His helm was squared off with narrow vents on the sides and a broad crest on top.

Lockout was going over an encoding procedure with him when they passed the entrance to the lab. She glanced in out of reflex, stepped past, then backed up. "Rattlelatch! Powerglide said you were in med bay."

The green mini glanced up from a table covered in recently machined armor plating. "Lockout! Firewall! You're back!" His face brightened with a smile. He turned to them. "And, er, I was but I needed to come up here for these." He motioned to the armor.

"Your leg! What happened -- well, we heard what happened, but how did you get hurt?" Lockout hurried over to him and started inspecting his bad leg -- the armor was sitting amongst the pieces on the table.

'Latch edged away a bit, embarrassed. "Um, don't worry, I can walk okay and I'm going to get it fully repaired as soon as I get this stuff down to med bay."

A message came over his internal comm frequency from Firewall. "You're stammering again. Why does that always happen around her, I wonder..?"

'Latch glared across the room at the taller mech and replied on the same frequency. "Be quiet. Now's not the time for that."

Unaware of the conversation, Lockout stood and glanced over the table. "Looks like we arrived just in time to help. C'mon, Firewall, grab that cart."

The taller mech blinked and glanced to either side of him then caught the handle of a supply cart and wheeled it over.

"Thanks." Rattlelatch smiled and began moving armor onto the cart. "So, yeah, I was in the generator room with Carly and Sparkplug when the battle broke out and the place literally came down on us. I was holding up part of it to save them and my leg got crushed in the process, but we were found before anything else happened. I didn't have time to fix it perfectly and I've been too busy since then."

Firewall elbowed him in the side. "I heard you saved half the mechs walking around here now."

"I...yeah, well, I wasn't not going to help." 'Latch paused, feeling flustered as well as feeling the professionalism caused by dire need drain away in the presence of his best friends. The three had been a team before joining the Autobots and even though they had taken on different jobs since then they remained close. Although, Rattlelatch and Lockout were more than just close; Firewall liked to tease them about it.

They finished loading up the armor and started down to the med bay, Firewall pushing the cart ahead of the other two. "So," 'Latch asked, "How'd your mission go?"

"Not as easy as we thought," Lockout replied. "But we've got nothing to complain about after what happened here. The Combaticons caught us but the heavy-hitters kept them off us long enough to get what we needed." She averted her gaze. "We picked up the distress call but Fahrenheight opted to finish the mission rather than return empty-handed."

Rattlelatch frowned. "He would." He thoughtfully cycled some air through his intakes. "But...I can see the reasoning. No matter what happened here we could still make use of that info. And now that we don't know what's going on with Ultra Magnus, we could still use it against the Decepticons. Just not anytime soon."

Firewall "hmm"ed in agreement, turning the cart sharply as they reached med bay. Trailbreaker was waiting there along with Tracks and Slingshot. Rattlelatch was relieved. The last time he had seen Tracks he had still been in ICU. The Corvette didn't look like he felt any better, but the new plating for his right lower leg and torso might help.

"Finally!" Slingshot slammed the fist of his remaining arm on the table. "I can't sit around here all day you know! The rest of the team's nothin' without me out there!"

"Pipe down," Tracks hissed. "Some of us are still nursing a cranial ache. And the last I heard from the field, the other Aerialbots were doing just fine."

"Guys..." Trailbreaker warned.

Hoist came out from the back room. "Ah. Thank you, Rattlelatch. Now, gentlemen, in order from least to most damage to make this go quicker: Trailbreaker, Rattlelatch, Tracks, and Slingshot."

Slingshot slammed his fist down again. "No way! I should be first! Get the real warriors fixed first!"

Tracks growled something in protest while Trailbreaker moved to stand between them, frowning at Slingshot. Firewall put in his share of disapproval. "Maybe there should be a separate wait line for anyone who forgets what happened here."

Slingshot snorted. "You weren't even here so your opinions don't count."

"Doesn't mean I wouldn't have been out there fightin' if I had been." Firewall pointed to the rifle slung behind his shoulders.

"Gentlemen," Hoist interrupted. "I gave a list. You will adhere to it without complaint. Rattlelatch and I are the only ones available to fix you, and he has needed repairs this entire time. I expect your cooperation. Is that clear?" The forceful but calm tone rendered the argument null. Silent nods answered him. "Good. Firewall, if you would be so kind as to lay those parts out in order, we'll get down to business."

Using the chart displayed on a nearby screen Firewall did as told, having no problem being hijacked so abruptly. Lockout gave assistance where she could, mostly monitoring readouts to start with. When 'Latch shut down so Hoist could repair the parts causing his limp, Lockout moved to get more involved -- to cover for wanting to talk with Hoist. She darted a quick glance at the others. Firewall she didn't mind overhearing. Slingshot was glaring at the wall and Tracks had powered down to standby mode. Satisfied, she watched Hoist work for a few seconds, then said casually, "So I hear he did pretty good, kept his cool and everything."

"He was exemplary. I admit I was surprised, myself, but I've never doubted his skill...just his jittery bedside manner. But circumstances such as the ones we were working under can do wonders." He paused. "It always comes down to the circumstances. I could tell of a dozen other mechs who went through the same change." He removed a set of actuators and looked to the supply tray for the replacements.

Lockout nodded, picking up the needed parts and handing them to him. "From the sounds of it, this put some needed confidence back in him."

"Back in him?"

Lockout chuckled. "Not that I've ever known him to charge into anything. But it had to take some nerve to do what he did before."

"I would call that another case of circumstances."

"True enough." She withheld any other questions as he continued to replace parts, then helped him when it came time to attach the new armor. When they were finished she patted Rattlelatch's arm, asking even though he was still offline, "So, ready to get back on the job?"

Hoist gathered up the used parts. "I think I'll let him rest for now. I took a recharge earlier but I don't know if he ever did. Besides, I can take care of Tracks' repairs myself, although if you like you could help with that, too."

"Well, I'm here to wait for 'Latch anyway, so, sure." She helped him prep the next free table then woke Tracks.

The Corvette stared grimly at the floor for a moment after powering back up. Then, realizing Lockout was looking at him askance, he shook himself. "Pardon me. Just...thinking."

"No problem. We're ready when you are." She gestured to the table, giving him an encouraging smile. Tracks nodded and moved to where they needed him, looking troubled the entire time.