William looked over the ships bow as they approached the coast of Africa, seeing the many other British vessels docked. The port of Alexandria was an ANZAC nest of operations, preparing troops to go out and fight on the shores of Gallipoli. He knew that he and his team would have to drive through the harsh desert, but at least from here they could try and find the Dinobots without having to cross have a country.
"We almost docked? I didn't care for staying in one form too long before this." A form asked William, who was Cliffjumper's avatar. A light skinned man with a British uniform and driving gloves leaned next to the Irish figure, watching as the ship moved to an open dock. "Despite the current war, humanity are truly intriguing. Given time and development, they could possibly surpass us."
William thought to himself before replying. Their fuel relied on liquid remains of long dead creatures, dinosaurs, and naturally it was only in a finite amount. They would need to discover a different form of energy if they wanted to advance. These Fossil Fuels were holding them back, technologically and ethically.
"When they come up with a better energy source, then you can say that." William replied, moving away from the rail and back into the ship, followed by Cliffjumper.
The two reunited with their team, the four "drivers" doing tasks around their bodies to draw less suspension. Legat was the first to acknowledge William and Cliff. "We almost ready to head out?" William replied to Legate's question, getting an excited reaction from the tanker.
"Start mounting up. We drive the second that ramp is down." William ordered as his soldiers entered their vehicles. He then walked away and found a worker checking inventory. "'Scuse me lad, how long until these doors open?" He asked, pointing towards the vessel's side bay.
"Should only be a few more minutes. Ship just got moored." The worker said, not looking up from his clipboard. William replied a quick thanks before running to his tank. His body had barely entered when it vanished and his engine turned. Hearing Scorcher's engine turn made the other five do the same, drawing the attention of some of the workers.
They slowly made their way to the bay, and once the doors had been opened and the ramp aligned, they were off, driving past the boarding workers and towards the ANZAC officer waiting for them on the dock. Scorcher pulled up next to the officer and poked William's head out, making thr figure look more disheveled. "Reportin' sir, ready to aid this Laurence fella."
The officer approached the tank and tried to enter, but William simply stepped out and closed the hatch. This got an odd look from the officer, but the man shrugged it off, handing William the relevant papers. "He is deep in Ottoman territory and due to these rumors of the Centeral Powers employing demons, his operations have been put at risk. While I'd much rather have your men assist my forces at Gallipoli, I understand you are needed for his task. Good luck and God speed, gentlemen." The officer saluted quickly, and before William could reply with his own salute the officer left. William checked the papers out and returned to his body.
"Listen up, it's a lot of driving through the desert, so make sure you're absorbing solar energy while we go through. It's a long drive, so check your levels." Scorcher started saying, driving through the streets of Alexandria and towards the east gate. The city was full of civilians and soldiers alike, and Scorcher and his team were trying their hardest to not run over anyone.
"Interesting city. This architecture is much older than the people living here. Why don't they build over it?" Barrage commented, watching as parts of a building fell to the road as they drove by.
"This city is an ancient one, named after a great conqueror. These people like to keep their history alive as long as possible." Legate replied, making the tail of the convoy. Scorcher focused on the people around them, some who were just staring at the machines of war. The look of sadness and exhaust filled their faces, and Scorcher began feeling strange. These humans weren't made for battle like Cybertronians; not the type of war they were waging at least. They were far too weak, to fragile to take a shot from a pistol, let alone their larger rifles. Why would a race so weak make weapons that cause such Devastation? Why would they squander their presious resources to wage pointless wars?
Scorcher drove past the city limits, entering the desert proper as he pondered these questions. The six vehicles then began their long journey through the harsh desert, entering through a sand storm. He'd have a long time to continue pondering.