[Perceptor's lab was only interesting for so long. And that was for someone who was a science enthusiast. Throw in that Wheeljack was not, needed 'fresh air', and couldn't keep still, you have one half of a hand-cuffed duo trying to get out and see the world.

Oh yeah, Wheeljack and Magnus are now handcuffed. That went under the radar.

The only problem? Getting his 'partner' to come with him. Without that cooperation, it was a no go. And yet...in a surprising turn of events, Magnus had actually AGREED. Turns out a workaholic actually likes to do...surprise, WORK! Unfortunately, sneaking out made the feed of Wheeljack's comm click on, and it shows the two sliding out of the Trion Temple. Stealth ops specialists right here, folks.]

Don't slow me down, sparky.

[Naturally, there's a grim scowl on Ultra Magnus's face. Who's surprised? No one. But he looks down at Wheeljack]

You do realize I could lift you off the ground.

[That gets a glance back from the Wrecker. If there was one thing he'd like to avoid, it was getting dragged around.]

And since it's a stupid-fraggin idea, we're gonna ignore it as an option.

[Ultra Magnus narrows his eyes. Then raises his arm. Frag you, Wheeljack, he's gonna go walk now.]

Hey wait-

[Nope, too late. He felt himself being pulled off his feet, completely being pulled at the mercy of Magnus. His face couldn't be any more unamused, watching the landscape go by and thinking all the terrible things that could happen to the Commander. That is...until he sees something ...something very out of place.]

Hey Magnus. Go over there. There's some kinda box.

Are you trying to give me orders?

[Could he frown any further? Because he's trying. Still, he humors Wheeljack, approaching the box and setting the Wrecker back to his feet.]

[Wheeljack just pouts in Magnus's general direction as he picks up the box, turning it every which way. And then...eyebrow perk.]

Funny...'s addressed to me...

Is it?

[It's here Ultra Magnus actually looks vaguely concerned.]

Wheeljack, I'd be careful about opening that.

[CEPT NO. Wheeljack's already torn open the paper and--....

Well...can't say he expected noisemakers and confetti. The package practically explodes in his hands, and the confetti goes everywhere, collecting on the two bots for as long as they'll stay still.]

....My bad.


[Just...SIGH.]

[Optimus Prime, finally fully repaired and recovered from his final battle with Megatron, is holding a box. A box with carefully cut open black wrapping paper and a silver bow. Looks like his present got to him a bit late.

It also looks like he is not particularly impressed, and he is very carefully not showing the contents to the camera.]

...Right. Well then. Whoever sent me these...

Just. No. I wish I could apologize. But just no.

[He shakes his head. Calmly, he places the lid back on the box, and sets it aside before facing the camera once more.]

...I know everything has been rather painful and tense the past orns. We've lost a lot of good people, and I'm proud to see how we've all managed since then.

[A sigh, and he visibly straightens up, not unaffected by the weight of all the loss.]

It's good to see that things have calmed down, and that a number of you have received some more pleasant gifts lately.

[His own gift is not spared a rather dry look.]

Be that as it may, I know a number of you were working on the designs for an portal device that might increase our options around here a bit.

Do you have any updates on that project to report?

Anyone seen a loser white and red idiot around?

And I don't mean the happy space hippy. The other one.

...

Also Lego - Liege - whatever, I'm going to take a wild guess that you have something to do with this.

[After all Jetfire did originally say he was going to get modifications from Liege.]

[Please excuse McCoy's voice, as it's a bit hoarse from yelling and snarling at a bunch of annoying damn robotic drones.]

I've been informed that my being here was not due to an error with the transporter, but like Hell I'll believe it wasn't. I wasn't anywhere near the vicinity of the damn thing but I'm pretty sure it had something to do with how I ended up on an alien planet full of robots. [grumblegrumble]

[McCoy rakes a hand down his face.] Let's give this a shot: I'm looking for a kid named Kirk. Goes by Jim or if he's feeling entitled, James Tiberius Kirk. Blond, blue eyes, young, radiating confidence enough to choke anyone within three feet of him? If you've seen him, let me know. I'd venture if you're female and relatively humanoid, you've had higher chances of running into him. He's also attracted to shiny objects that go very fast and endanger your life, say, starships.

If not, maybe you've seen this pointy-eared bastard with finely trimmed eyebrows and a face blank of expression. He's like a robot, so I imagine he fits right in with you lot. Goes by Spock.

Hopefully one or both of you are receiving this message and in which case, get your asses to... God what did they call this place? "Solus Prime"'s temple.

[McCoy glares firmly at the camera]

Right. Anyway. Leonard McCoy. Was acting Chief Medical Officer of the Federation's starship, the USS Enterprise. If anyone recognizes what I've just said, let me know. [A beat.] I need a drink. Or fifteen.

Where the scrap...?

[Metal clangs, apparently someone just shoved something -- or someone -- out of their way. And that's when someone just plain bellows:]

Trion!

[The video comes into focus, then, a bulky red 'bot storming around the altar in Alpha Trion's temple, and scattering acolytes in his path.]

Get your rust-covered backside out where I can see you! I'm not playin' this game!

[Something in the bellowing is enough, apparently, to summon out even the reclusive Firstforged from his study -- he can be seen emerging in the corner of the screen. Of course... that doesn't seem to help matters.]

You!

[One. Two. Three determined strides as the Autobot crosses the space, marching straight up to Alpha Trion himself. Is there going to be a shouting match? Is the Haven in for a screaming fest?]

[Nope.]

[Nope, he is drawing back one massive fist... and slamming it straight into Alpha Trion's face, as hard as he possibly can.]

[CLANG]

[He steps back, shaking his fist and snarling:]

That's for bein' a pain in my gears.

[End feed.]

[Some... thing... is staring at its communicator. Just. Staring.]

Hello! Are you all trapped here, too?

[Its mouth doesn't move.]