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[Ultra Magnus]

Morning has only just begun to break over Autobase; the air is cool and heavy, dew lying in a thin sheet on the grass, and even the sun seems drowsy still as it peers over the horizon. But already, someone is up and about, keeping busy.

Ultra Magnus has been awake since the sky first paled to a dull lavender-grey, making work for himself on the firing range, and now he steps back to survey with a harsh gaze the job he's done. The target is a crude thing, little more than a sheet of metal bent by bare hand into a form that vaguely resembles humanoid and slathered in thick purple paint so garish it's almost luminescent; near the top is a single sloppy swatch of yellow. He's no artist, but this is more than enough to suit his purposes. He tosses the brush back into the cup – well, probably a pail for someone closer to the natives' size – he brought with him and paces a few hundred meters out.

Once he takes his position and sets his feet, he shoulders his rifle and aims with meticulous care. Because he can and because he has the time to be thorough and exacting. He can just see the low flicker of a yellow backlight staring back at him before he opens fire. He doesn't stop firing, either, until he realises he's hearing the echo of the cacophony coming back to him and snaps out of his tunnel vision.

There was a target there a few seconds ago, he's sure of it. Just a pile of half-melted, laser-scorched slag now. And, he notes with a grimace, possibly several Autobots rousted earlier than they'd like from the noise.

//Nothing to be concerned about,// he offers pre-emptively over broadband with only a hint of chagrin. //That was me.//

[Rodimus Prime]

Hmmm. I did not realize that Rodimus had been such a late addition to my stable! This does remind me that the Decepticons do still have the remains of Optimus Prime's body around somewhere...

Rodimus Prime walks softly through the room that some, in moments of gallows humor, have taken to calling the "Spare Parts Bin." That had been one of the more difficult adaptations for some of the Autobots to make. The idea of scavenging components from the dead, some of them fallen heroes. But the funny thing about that is, the greater the hero, the harder it is to scavenge, despite the greater certainty that this is what they would have wanted.

He stops for a moment at the foot of one body in two parts. The first one the Autobots here had found. The initial condition had been poor, and circumstances had forced the Autobots to be ungentle since. Though he could rarely afford to indulge such thoughts, Rodimus had, occasionally over the years, wondered if things would had been different had he acted during that titanic battle, wondered if, though inaction, he had killed his own Optimus Prime. He still isn't quite sure what he thinks about the discovery that the fight would have ended, more or less, the same way regardless.

Then his optics drift to the latest addition, the most recently discovered body, and he sighs. It's when they get a dead version of someone who's already here and live on this planet that his troops become the most unnerved, when morale plummets to the lowest. A sort of brooding silence has settled over base since the newest arrival.

He shakes his head. And he's been just as bad as the rest of them. That's enough from them, and enough from him. He needs to set an example. The new Matrix bearer turns away from the old and walks briskly out. When he activates his radio, open to the common frequency, there is no trace of the brooding Sacrificed One in his tone, but more than a little hint of Hot Rod. He even allows a boyish smirk to tug lightly at the right corner of his lips.

//Autobots, all those available and up to it are encouraged to meet me at the field in the south side of town. It's time for a little R&R, and I'd like to teach those of you who haven't had a chance to learn a Terran game named "football."// Given where he lived while on Earth, he's probably referring to American football. His smirk grows wider, and while his next address is respectful, it seems to contain a friendly, teasing undertone. //I would be especially honored if you could join us, Emirate.//