For a minute or two after the shuttle came to rest in the R2's shuttle bay and the others shuffled out, Megs sat with his optics offline. His hands rested limply in his lap and he vented, or... he was fairly sure he must have been. Everything hurt in a way that throbbed in and out. He could move if he needed to, talk if he needed to, but it was so tempting to just rest... just for once.

Without even really thinking about it, he opened up his internal comms, which were already set to the private channel he had created with Optimus. ::Am fear as gràdhaiche?:: He mumbled. ::Back from... retrieving. She's here. 'M back.::