With nosecone levered up at the inky purple-black ceiling far far above, Fusillade sits in one of the rocket cradles. The dark grey and white bomber chatters back and forth with a few techs. With compressed air hoses underneath, and a bomb truck to the side, it looks like she is in the process of getting reloaded for a mission -- although it's clear that she won't be launching directly from this site. There's still a few cracks and chips in her space tile from the Goodyear Blimp debacle. "Decepticons. Listen."