RECONNAISSANCE MISSION REPORT FORM
REPORTER (LEADER OF MISSION): Mirage
SUPERVISOR OF REPORTER: Jazz
ACCOMPANYING TEAM MEMBERS: Blaster, Powerglide, Smokescreen, First Aid, and Hound
MISSION: To gather intel for the purpose of deciding if this Energon mine should be destroyed or not; is it worth our time and resources, along with, will it negatively impact the Decepticon cause?
LOCATION: Kootenai National Forest, Montana
DATE/TIME OUT: July 3rd / 20:00:00
DATE/TIME IN: July 12th / 21:09:28
WERE YOU DISCOVERED: Yes.
IF YES, REASON FOR DISCOVERY: Powerglide has no grace whatsoever.
IF YES, WAS THERE A BATTLE: Yes.
IF YES, WERE THERE INJURIES: Surprisingly, no.
START TIME: 11:00:48
END TIME: 11:58:17
RESULTS OF MISSION (please be as detailed as possible):
Let me state for the record, I absolutely despise all wilderness and wildlife on this muddy, dirty planet – and if I ever get sent back out there, it will be too soon.
Regardless, the journey out to Montana was smooth and uneventful. Blaster rode with Smokescreen, while Powerglide kept watch overhead. He remained high enough to maintain a low profile and to not draw suspicions from the humans on the freeway. We made the trip in just under ten hours, arriving shortly after dawn. And may I add that my alt. mode is not equipped to handle the rough, unpaved, Montana roads – and calling them roads is incredibly generous.
Once we located the mine, we set up camp approximately two kliks away. Blaster and Smokescreen set up the communications panel and base. First Aid unpacked his mobile Medbay with Powerglide’s assistance. Hound and I scouted the surrounding area just to be certain there were no lurking Decepticons or any humans hiking nearby.
We each took shifts keeping watch of the camp and cycled through reconnaissance of the mine. I spent five days of listening to Smokescreen attempt to teach First Aid how to play Poker, while Powerglide and Blaster chimed in. They played for miscellaneous nature artifacts because apparently there is no point in playing Poker unless you have something on the line. (To which, I cannot find any worth in nature scraps they picked up off the ground). They spent four of the days trying to win this rock that supposedly looked like a human musician named Cher. I am never going on another mission with Smokescreen again. He constantly berated me, trying to get me to learn this card game that only hooligans and burn-outs play when overcharged on high grade. To be frank, he’s quite lucky I didn’t stick those cards up his spoiler when he was recharging. Now, Hound was the only reasonabe one. He quietly observed nature and the wildlife while on and off his shift. He did not pester me every twenty kliks like a few members of my team.
Blaster regularly checked in with HQ – every twelve hours with official updates on the mission. Everything was quiet with no cause for alarm up until the morning of the seventh day. This issue was, and is, entirely Powerglide’s fault.
As per Prowl’s instructions, once we reached camp, Powerglide was to remain grounded unless otherwise prompted by me – or if the situation absolutely required it. There was a rockslide near our post in the early hours of the morning, likely due to the heavy rain we’d received the night before. Powerglide was on watch when the rockslide began. It woke everyone it was so loud. Truthfully, I thought it was bomb going off until my systems fully calibrated and I realized the sound was too drawn out to be a bomb. Powerglide, who was in the way of the falling rocks, panicked. Not only did he break orders and take flight, he flee up over the trees with such force that it could be heard over the rockslide. A few miles out, shouts and calls could be heard from the Decepticons discovering our presence.
Blaster and First Aid quickly broke down camp as Hound, Smokescreen, and me went forth to meet them – for it would be only a matter of minutes before they attacked. The sun was just coming up over the ridge and the trees behind us. This did give us an advantage because the Decepticons were looking into the morning light.
Smokescreen did his thing, puffing out a wave of smoke to cover us. I vanished, climbing into one of the thicker trees to get a better look at who we were up against (which is something I will never do again! The amount of sap that is still stuck to my armor and servos is repulsive). Regardless, I saw we had the Stunticons for company. Hound pulled up a hologram of himself hiding in the shrubbery, which naturally confused and surprised the group of slow-witted ruffians. Between the smoke-like fog and Hound playing them like a violin, there was no chance we weren’t getting out of this.
Blaster commed, letting us know they were packed. Now to only disappear. The beautiful thing is, Hound and I do not need to communicate with words, or even comms for that matter. I dropped down, walked over to him, still invisible, and put a servo on his shoulder. He knew precisely want we needed. Smokescreen was keeping the Stunticons occupied with blasters and smoke. I gave him the signal to retreat and he did, falling back to camp. Hound created this extraordinarily accurate hologram of him and me retreating in the opposite direction. Naturally, these Neanderthals took the bait and blundered after our doppelgangers. I reappeared and we simply walked back to base uninhibited.
It was an incredibly long drive home.