The Start of Something Interesting...

[lastonepercent]

The day was calm, with no recent Decepticon attacks, and none suspected to be incoming for some time.  The cons were too busy licking their wounds from the last battle, one that the Autobots had decidedly come out ahead on.  The celebrations had gone on long into the night and the recreation room was already a mess.

Thus, it was the perfect chance for a lone Autobot to slip casually outside.

Mirage had no shift currently scheduled, so he was free to spend his time as he pleased.  He certainly made no move to hide his departure, greeting his comrades in the halls on the way out, but the box in his hands remained unopened despite any passing curiosity.  It was quietly shifted into subspace before long, and  the former noble shifted into alt mode just as smoothly when he reached the doors.  Despite the completely inappropriate earthen race car mode, the mech had little trouble self-adjusting before driving off into the forest covering the mountain, for business unknown...

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[cliffjumper]

Having no idea what he was looking for or how to get where he needed to go, Cliffjumper slowed down soon after he actually got past the single guard standing at the door... well, okay, he didn't get past him so much as shoot him in the helm.

The 'con had been too close to the door for Cliffjumper to even try sneaking past, even if he was any good at it. He took the time to drag the mech a bit aside as much as he could before he ducked inside, soon carefully wandering down corridors and peering into rooms as he worked himself towards the coordinates.

At least he didn't ping the origin of said coordinates again, that training firmly instilled in him to not give away rescue might be coming when said distress call had come during a battle.

Had it been after or not at all in conjunction with a battle, it'd been another thing entirely. Clutching his normal blaster in one hand, glass gas gun stuck with a magnetic clip to his right thigh and a grenade in his other hand, Cliffjumper hoped it wasn't a trap and that it would be relatively simple to help.

Not that it'd stop him even if he knew what had happened, but being prepared might have been nice.

[lastonepercent]

He was down for the moment, but Special Operations bots like himself always had a backup plan or three.

Being captured was always a possibility.

His systems were fast working on purging the virus - Ratchet's excellent preventative coding and Jazz's slightly illicit 'hacked' Spec-Op-only codes working jointly together - but it would take time.

For now, he had to deal with distracting Soundwave until he could free himself.

He tensed at the first brushes of Soundwave's mind against his own, the heavier mech leaning down and pressing his helm into the floor with splayed fingers. The cassettes, holding him down on either side, laughed like the little hooligans they were.

Mirage flinched, trying to focus on other, more distracting things than whatever secrets Soundwave would surely be looking for. It only took a moment for the second of Jazz's installed countermeasures to click on: a partition forming around various, pre-selected areas of Mirage's processor, cutting them off from himself - and therefore Soundwave as well.

The sudden blankness of certain areas in his processor was momentarily terrifying - but the terror seemed to goad Soundwave on, as he did not immediately catch on to the fact that he was not (entirely) the cause.

Mirage drudged up the most intense memory he could immediately think of...and given the recent swirl of emotions around it, the ritual and the fuss with Cliffjumper was the first thing that came to mind.

Soundwave's flinch at the surge of pain pleasure frustration was satisfying, but the answering growl and sudden addition of angry weight to his face was not. He cried out when Soundwave mentally dug deeper, probing.

[cliffjumper]

It was a good thing Cliffjumper had slowed the closer he came to the coordinates the distress ping had given, because at least he didn't storm right into the room they had originated from.

Not that that hadn't been a thought, since element of surprise was always useful and Cliffjumper, frankly, didn't have patience for much else. But for once he had some restraint, mostly because there wasn't supposed to be any Autobot in the facility.

Thus, at least, he didn't blunder right into the room even if he almost did when he first caught sight of Soundwave and then... Mirage?! What the flying frag was Mirage doing here?

He wasn't even supposed to have been on the force for this operation!

Cliffjumper pushed away immediate flash of suspicion after a moment though, because supposed to be here or not, it was kinda obvious even to him that Mirage was hardly cooperating.

It could, maybe, be a trap, but he had no way of knowing and just turning around and leaving Mirage there wasn't something he'd do to a fellow Autobot.

Even if he was frustrated, confused and angry at the mech privately, and suspicious and confused over his presence somewhere he shouldn't have been.

So Cliffjumper crouched against the wall beyond the doorway relieved that, as long as Soundwave was concentrated on Mirage, his telepathy oughtn't tip him off to Cliffjumper's presence. Earlier in the war it'd been more questionable what Soundwave was and wasn't capable of, but even if a lot of things were still in question, they did at least know that as long as Soundwave was focused on something, he wouldn't notice someone else merely being nearby.

That was unfortunately only of marginally helpful however.

What was he supposed to do now?

He wasn't fragging spec ops or in possession of, say, Trailbreaker's forcefields. Glancing around, Cliffjumper didn't find anything of much use other than what he was already wielding.

Like his close-range grenade.

Giving it a brief glance, Cliffjumper frowned and then shrugged. It'd work as a distraction, if nothing else, and Mirage, being on the floor, was mostly out of the way.

With that thought, he darted to the door and tossed the grenade in towards the opposite end of the room, behind Soundwave.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage jerked as Soundwave and the cassettes did at the sudden explosion rocking the room. The rush of the telepath suddenly pulling out of his mind was a relief, and despite the start from the bomb a part of Mirage relaxed.

And immediately re-tensed and he gathered his scattered wits. This was his chance! A rescue or a distraction, either worked for him!

Soundwave and the cassettes were already whirling on the intruder, the twins cackling in glee when they saw the lone minibot. From his position on the floor, Mirage couldn't yet make out who his inadvertent savior was; he was focusing on willing his antivirals to work faster.

[cliffjumper]

"Fraggin' scrap," Cliffjumper muttered and maybe that hadn't been well-thought out, but it'd been the only course of action available. At least from his point of view.

But it wasn't as if he was helpless. Sneering at the glitch twins (was it something with twins, or what?), Cliffjumper still avoided looking up at Soundwave and raised his gun. Soundwave's visor brightened and he tilted his helm, and even if he couldn't tell scrap from the mech's covered face, Cliffjumper had the distinct feeling the creep was smiling.

"Frenzy, Rumble. Operat---"

"Operation suck fraggin' slag, Decepticreeps!" As if he'd stand there and listen to Soundwave telling the slaggers to, well. Slag him. The glass gas spread out in a fog-like cloud and Cliffjumper turned around immediately.

All he needed to do was wait a few moments---

"Hey, Autodork!" Frenzy's cry carried strains of his soundwaves, throwing Cliffjumper forward a few staggering steps and making his processor ache with ghostly wrongness.

At least the wall stopped him.

Shaking his helm, he turned around and fired into the dispersing glass gas before slowly backing off as he did so. The gas shouldn't have spread far enough to cover Mirage, he was pretty sure.

"Bite me, ya two-bit scrapheap!"

[lastonepercent]

...Oh sweet Primus, he'd recognize that obnoxious voice anywhere.

Flabbergasted, for a moment all Mirage could do was frantically crane his head toward the commotion, catching a glimpse of red between Soundwave's retreating legs.

Was. ...was that glass-gas creeping terrifyingly close to him? Mirage gasped, fuel pump nearly stalling until the heavy brittling agent fell harmlessly to the ground not far from his feet.

That...idiot minibot!

What was he doing?!

Given the sounds of their scuffle -and what he knew about Cliffjumper himself - Mirage would almost bet his last Resonating Crystal that the little mech was rushing in alone too!

Hissing, he rocked in place, frame straining as he fought the effects of the virus with more ferocity then ever. If he didn't get free, he was sure they would both end up killed!

[cliffjumper]

Cliffjumper was starting to have an inkling that maybe this had been a bad idea. But even if it had been, he wasn't sure what else he could've done.

Not that he had much time to think about the situation and whether he'd acted correctly or not. He was, as it was, far more busy firing his gun and smirking when there was a muffled grunt from the blue and white behemoth that was stalking him.

And then Cliffjumper stumbled, trying to keep his feet under the shaking ground but lost his footing. Even as he got up on his knees, there was a foot slamming down against his back and then Rumble burst forward and Cliffjumper's next shot went wild.

"Ghh---" He bit down on the yell that wanted to slide out because like frag was he giving the glitch the satisfaction.

"That's for Frenzy and the boss, fragger," Rumble growled and Cliffjumper grimaced at him, managing a smirk and barely ducked his helm away to have the foot connect with the side of his helm instead.

Pity he couldn't see how much damage he'd done to either Frenzy or Soundwave from this angle.

[lastonepercent]

-the virus wasn't completely purged yet, but it was close enough. Mirage could move enough to free himself from the bonds Frenzy and Rumble had failed to secure against a Spec-Ops level skillset.

His invisibility was still out - which made a terrible sort of sense, if he was the target - but his motor functions were 68% back online and rising.

More than enough to shoot Rumble in the back, before turning his rifle on Soundwave and Frenzy. Weakened by the glass-gas as they were, it made sense for the telepath to call a retreat.

He almost started to congratulate himself when the lack of any other cassettes began to worry him.

[cliffjumper]

He'd expected worse, but the foot bearing down lightened and then was removed completely to the sound of laser blasts, and he couldn't help but smirk as Rumble went flying.

It was a bit surprising they retreated just like that, but with Frenzy having shattered but not completely compromised chestplating and Soundwave sporting a few spots of twisted metal and the glass gas still being in effect?

Yeah, maybe it made sense.

"Ouch," muttering as he turned around and sat up, carefully feeling out the damage in his pretty much crushed hand (his best gun hand, too!), Cliffjumper then looked up.

He hesitated for a moment - he'd have preferred to actually not have to face Mirage directly yet, but not saying anything would just be dumb.

"So what are you doin' here and how did they get ya?"

[lastonepercent]

"Mission," Mirage grumbled, standing up stiffly to cast a wary look around. He gave Cliffjumper only a quick, assessing look - damaged hand, impaired shooting ability, otherwise unharmed- before motioning to the exit.

"Compromised mission, obviously, so we should leave quickly-"

That was when he heard the snarl, right as the black cassette launched itself out of the nearest air duct in revenge for it's master. Crashing into his head with a flurry of claws and teeth, Ravage sent them both tumbling over a console with a yell.

[cliffjumper]

Well, he probably had some impressive dents in the back of his altmode kibble. Soundwave was heavy and he hadn't been careful leaning down. But he'd live. Grimacing as he stood up and trying to reach around to feel out the dents, Cliffjumper scowled up at Mirage.

"Mission? Didn't hear about any fraggin' miss--- Gah!" Stumbling back in surprise from Ravage bursting out of a vent and practically flying by right by his faceplate, Cliffjumper stared for a moment.

Then he tried to get a gun, grunting as his hand seized up in broken-jointed non-functionality when he forgot he couldn't use his right hand. With a bit of fiddling he got his glass gas gun again since the other hand been reduced to scrap, in his left and then...

Stood there, realising he couldn't very well shoot at the ball of mech and cassette.

"Fraggin' pit!" He couldn't just stand there, but with Mirage and Ravage tangled up, trying to yank Ravage away wouldn't be easy either. Especially not with only one hand.

[lastonepercent]

Hands automatically going up to protect his face hadn't stopped Ravage from clawing in fast and deep, even as Mirage attempted to tear the cassette away. Teeth tore at the sensitive slats on his vent-crests, and a claw caught at the corner of his optic. That made him thrash, swinging a punch with a roll of his entire body weight.

The force of the connection was satisfying, and Ravage went flying with a enraged yowl. Mirage immediately brought his rifle up to bear, but with half his vision gone muddy, his shot only graced the retreating cassetticat.

He turned toward Cliffjumper with a huff, staggering back up to his feet.

"Let us get out of here, please. I have what I came for."

[cliffjumper]

"Ouch." Wincing as he caught sight of the damage, Cliffjumper even opened his mouth, vocaliser clicking on from neutral - and then he thought better of saying anything more descriptive about the damage and nodded, briefly eyeing Mirage's rifle.

Unfortunately, that thing would require a two-handed grip which was something he distinctly lacked at the moment. So with a suppressed static sigh and a grunt in acknowledgement, Cliffjumper turned around.

He still glanced up at Mirage, again, though, catching sight of the injuries again and wincing.

"You okay? And what the slag was it you're here for? Does anyone even know you're here? How fraggin' smart is that?" Mirage was spec ops, yes. Cliffjumper knew this, but he didn't really have much insight into how they actually worked, and this looked pretty... unclever.

[lastonepercent]

"Indeed," Mirage agreed dryly, wincing as he touched the torn and bleeding side of his optic. ...Where those cracks in his vision as well?

Wretched beast.

Mirage sighed as he trailed after Cliffjumper, the residual stiffness in his limbs not parting even with the ongoing virus purge. He gave the smaller mech a look.

"No. Classified. Yes. And generally, very. In that order."

[cliffjumper]

Hefting his glass gas gun, up, Cliffjumper frowned at it and missed the look Mirage gave him - he really needed something else since it took the glass gas a moment or two to kick in, and then it'd either need a laser blast or two or a good punch to actually do damage. Maybe---

"Hey, why the slag n--- Uh, right." Grimacing, Cliffjumper shook his helm and waved a hand at Mirage to hopefully forestall any snarky comments about what classified meant. "Classified, right. Stupid fraggin' scrap." He couldn't quite mute his suspicion, but it wasn't... precisely, aimed just at Mirage.

More like at spec ops and their spying in general, because while he knew it was, technically probably very necessary, spies and the sneaking around and the secret missions just twisted his wires.

"Whatever. Do ya got another gun besides the rifle?" Cliffjumper asked after a huff, having to accept the 'classified'. There were things he'd push about, argue and yell, but he was enough of a soldier by now to accept the 'classified' - even if he was suspicious.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage was already drawing back, vocalizer clicking to interrupt Cliffjumper with an indignant rant about the meaning of 'classified'- when Cliffjumper interrupted himself.

Thank Primus. He was not in the mood for another argument.

He still huffed, following after the minibot as he broke Comm Lockdown to ping Jazz his update. Even if it was encoded, the message was simple: 'Botched and Extracting Plus One. Requesting Visible Cover'. Jazz would understand enough to know that he had 'friendly' company, and that his invisibility was currently not an option. The human acronym FUBAR would have been quite apt as well.

"...No. I only have room for the one." He was reluctant to admit it to a mech that seemed to have it out for him, but with his vision compromised and Cliffjumper's hand damaged, they needed to know their resources.

"Can you still shoot?"

[cliffjumper]

Cliffjumper was probably far less careful than he ought to be leading them down the corridors back towards the exit, but at least he wasn't barreling straight ahead with no regard for possible enemies popping up either.

Mirage's reveal had him sighing, almost dragging a hand down his faceplate before he remembered it was busted - not soon enough to avoid wincing from having tensed the cables and servos in the hand, raising it towards his faceplate and being met with a flash of pain.

That, more than Mirage's admission in itself, probably made him sound a bit grumpier than what he would otherwise have been... or might be warranted.

"Great. And yeah, sure. Ain't got as good aim with my left as with my right, but it ain't terrible either." Glaring at the floor, Cliffjumper grimaced. "Would be better with an offensive weapon, but since I don't have two hands right now and your aim kinda sucks what with your optic..."

[lastonepercent]

That added grumpiness did Mirage's attitude no favors, and he ended up audibly grinding his jaw to keep from giving Cliffjumper an equally snappy retort.

"Yes well. We will have to make due."

The arrival of Jazz's confirmation ping was just what Mirage needed to lift his spirits, and the building rocked with the force of munitions fire outside.

"-And that would be our distraction. Come, I know the layout, and we need to get outside before Soundwave's reinforcements arrive."

Just because his aim was off didn't mean he couldn't see or sense enough to navigate; he took off at a run, setting a different path than the one they had arrived through. Jazz's intel included a headcount of a Con standoff at the front doors that they wanted to avoid.

[cliffjumper]

Twitching at the noise, Cliffjumper huffed and wondered why in Primus bright presence he liked this mech, beyond the fact that he was pretty? Unbidden, a brief bit of memory from the talk in the washracks popped up, as well as several loose conversations with Bumblebee.

Okay, fine, so he did know why. That didn't make Mirage any less fragging aggravating right now.

"Could just get a fraggin' magnetic holster ya know---" then the corridor trembled with the explosion and he was distracted for a brief moment, which meant Mirage blew past him easily. "Hey! This ain't the way back!"

Running after Mirage, Cliffjumper glanced aside to the way he'd taken in and then followed Mirage, more dedicated to making sure the glitch didn't get jumped or whatever what with his injured optic. He might miss something after all.

[lastonepercent]

"You could get a magnetic holster," Mirage snipped back, before common sense took hold over his ire. Yelling in the corridor was a great way to end up slagged.

He still barely slowed down, just making sure to set a pace the stumpy minibot could match.

::This. Is an alternate way out. The front door is crowded with Decepticons, but if you want to chance it, you are welcome to do so.::

[cliffjumper]

Cliffjumper had been lagging behind, even if he'd been running as fast as he could. He wasn't Blurr, so his speed lay in his altmode, not in root mode.

::I have a magnetic holster. Or two,::Cliffjumper said with a huff, too annoyed to mention he had plenty of space in his subspace anyway and then aimed a glare at Mirage's back for good measure. ::Sure, I could but then there wouldn't have been any slaggin' point in goin' here and helpin' ya since if I leave now you could still be jumped what with that optic of yours!::

Not that he didn't see why they couldn't go for the front door anyway. The Cons should get whatfor like they deserved and here they were running the other way?

But it wasn't like he could pull Mirage where he didn't want to go, so follow him he had to do.

::Still think we could take 'em,:: Cliffjumper muttered, wondering if it was just MIrage's stupid, overly-cautious spy slag that made him prone to taking the roundabout way avoiding conflict or what?

[lastonepercent]

::As I said, you are welcome to try. It is highly inadvisable, but you could. I can hardly stop you.:: Mirage slowed his stride long enough to turn and give Cliffjumper a dirty look with his good optic.

::I, however, have a mission to complete. I would prefer that we both get out of here alive.::

He slowed to a stop at the next corner, holding a hand out to stop Cliffjumper in his (rather noisy) tracks. Cliffjumper's huge feet simply weren't made for stealth like Mirage was.

::-hold! I hear someone.:: The distinctive clopping tread of a single pair of seeker heels was racing toward them from the adjacent hall. He reached for his rifle - hopefully he'd be able to tag the mech when they came around the corner...

[cliffjumper]

::Well, you could, but I'd be fraggin' thankful if ya didn't,:: Cliffjumper sniped, wiggling his gun up at Mirage. Not that this mattered, really. He wasn't about to turn around and go out the way he'd gone in, because separating was a stupid idea.

Cliffjumper's reckless daring actions and charges came when a situation presented itself and that seemed the thing to do. It was hardly premediated on pure stubbornness... well, not usually.

And if Mirage found him noisy, Cliffjumper was, in turn, perfectly aware of that as well. He was trying, but he wasn't a spy - Bumblebee had tried to show him tricks to walk quietly even with their big feet, but he could never manage to quite get them. The difference in noise level between him and Mirage was, to his own optics, rather wince-inducing.

It was also impressive how quiet Mirage managed to be, really.

::Don't see what you're so slaggin' worried about we're doin' fi--- wha?:: Jerking to a stop, Cliffjumper almost walked into Mirage but managed to stop before that, and now that he was paying attention it wasn't hard to hear someone coming.

Narrowing his optics, Cliffjumper readied his own gun. Sure, it was just glass gas, but if Mirage didn't get the Decepticreep on the first try, a blast of gas would surprise the slagger and if nothing else, the gas's effect would be helpful later.

[lastonepercent]

Bumblebee was a special case, and nothing anyone ever said would be able to convince Mirage otherwise.

The spy hissed at Cliffjumper's snappy response, not bothering to offer any retort in turn. Later, if they lived.

::Seeker. Just one. Be ready.:: It was all he managed to say before the Decepticon rounded the corner. Mirage fired, already cursing his ruined depth perception as he did so; he could immediately tell the shot was too wide, only nailing the seeker - Skywarp! - in the shoulder vent.

...Fragging scrap.

[cliffjumper]

"What the frag---- gah!" Skywarp staggered from the glancing shot, then got a dose of glass gas all over his torso - though he avoided the majority of the blast, smirking as he flickered out of view.

Cliffjumper automatically barrelled sideways, pushing Mirage further away from his original position - not that he knew if Skywarp was aiming for Mirage or not, but he'd definitely not been looking at him even if he'd shot at him last.

And he was the spy that, apparently, had disrupted the 'Cons operation here, at least as far as Cliffjumper understood it. Better try to---

"Ohhh, hey, glitchmice," Skywarp sniggered as he faded in again, and sure, his hand didn't land where he'd assumed it would (that was, the blue and white racer's shoulder), but the runt's helm was just as good, really.

"Fraggin' pit! Scum-suckin' Decepticreep, leggo!" Kicking backwards, Cliffjumper didn't reach metal, trying instead to bang his gun against the flying tincan's hand around his helm - and had to bite down on a whine when it was roughly bent out of his hand and tossed away.

At least he hoped it'd just been tossed away and not destroyed, because that sort of gun was harder to replace than a normal blaster, frag it all!

"Rude, mousey," Skywarp laughed again, apparently very amused by how own wit, and Cliffjumper hissed and got fragging rattled as a result.

The glitch's palm was also digging against his horns, frag it all.

"And you... why don'tcha just put that rifle down, huh?" Skywarp's glittering gold gaze, full of malicious amusement, turned to Mirage.