[Nice to see you Ironhide-- and that's a piece of metal. In your shoulder. What did you do.]

[He doesn't seem too bothered by it, though, even though the storm-tossed debris piece is as long as his arm, wedged into an armor gap.]

Never seen a storm like that around here before... You hearin' me, Power Joe? Hot Rod?

[There's an awkward pause.]

Uh. Leakin'... organic? Guys all right?

[This is disorienting. Very, very disorienting. He's woken up in strange caves before, but never come out of them to see familiar stars looking over such an unfamiliar landscape.]

This is Megatron of the Reformists.

[The only thing for him to do is send out a general alert, and hope that someone familiar and non-agressive is listening in.]

I'm uncertain where the Conventionists dropped me this time, but I'm in need of a pick up or a sign pointing in the right direction. I have three days to make it to Iacon for the first signing, and...well.

[Have video to accompany the audio, showing Megatron as he must have looked during the days when he was a miner: black and gold stripes, bulky armor, and a single pickaxe symbol on his shoulder. The video twists, however, showing off his treads. He's a tank right now, all remnants of the flight upgrade he received in Axiom gone.]

Lets just say it takes me a bit to get up to speed.

[There's a wry smile. His 'humor' is still present, even if something else has definitely changed.]

[The initial assessment of the situation hadn't taken long. No guards, a strange place - this wasn't the mine he'd made into his home, not in the least - a small winged lizard creeled at him and then vanished into thin air. His shotgun on a table, with a holster. That was handy. The remnants of a life that apparently just left like the organic sitting strewn about.

Then, there was the communication network. He studied it for a good, long while. Someone here bore a face that was and wasn't his. And they were revolting.

Measures needed to be taken.

The Link transmission opens with a sharp electronic pop, and the voice on the other end is Barricade's, but rougher and colder.]

This is the Lord High Protector. Any Decepticons within transmission range - I require a sitrep on the current location and your status. I also require the last known whereabouts of the imposter Barricade.

I should not have to remind you that you ignore these orders at your own peril. By the Allspark, I shall feed you to the Autobots myself if you fail me.

That is all.

[The transmission cuts out immediately after. Anyone in Solus Prime's temple might catch sight of the 'Lord High Protector' in the halls, though. Barricade, though not with the face he was upgraded to... and without legs, wheeling himself through the halls in a battered chair, now-holstered shotgun slung across the back.]