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Berth 6 - Corridor

As Snarl followed Grimlock off the Ark-19, he glanced back at Sludge and nodded as the Jungle Warrior agreed to getting a drink as soon as they could find the energon bar. The big lug was easy to please if only because he was the least intelligent of the Dinobots. As long as there was fun to be had, Sludge would be happy. “Yeah, me show you good time, Sludge. Once we get to bar, we fill tanks up with good stuff, not low grade garbage. High grade energon that put buzz in craniums! Ha!”

Snarl patted Sludge on the shoulder plate as they came to a stop in the corridor of Berth 6. Cosmos was there to greet them, but Slag had already threatened the tiny minibot if he didn’t get out of the way. Grimlock quickly took control of the situation and suggested that the saucer-bot take them down to the energon bar while the Dinobot Commander went to meet with Countdown to discuss more important business. The Desert Warrior was fine with the idea even though he’d rather be smashing ‘Cons. Although, if he got drunk enough, Snarl might mistake one of the bar’s patrons for an enemy mech and start smashing them into bits and pieces, instead.

“Me suggest you listen to Grimlock, little fella,” Snarl said to Cosmos as the solar-powered Dinobot stood alongside his commanding officer. “Otherwise, Slag here step on you good and make little green mess all over floor. Heh.”

Main Shipyard

Grindcore hurried into the main shipyard, being over a cycle late for his work shift. He glanced around, looking for any signs of his foremech. There was nothing except for a group of his fellow construction workers mulling about nearby. The hungover 'Bot raised his hand and waved to his comrades before making his way over to them. “Hey, guys, sorry I’m late. Got hung up by some mech name Stockade in the corridor. Wouldn’t leave me the slag alone, you know.”

“Yeah, we know, Grindcore,” his nearest co-worker replied. “You know the boss has been looking for you. He’s not happy.”

“He’s not?”

“Nope, not in the slightest,” another mech chimed in, shaking his head.

“Um...where is the boss now?” A nervous Grindcore inquired.

“GRINDCORE!”

“Oh, never mind,” the heavy lifter replied as he reluctantly turned around to face the music while the other ‘Bots quickly treated to safer grounds. Grindcore immediately caught sight of his foremech as the yellow and grey minibot walked up to him, stopping right at his feet with his small arms crossed over his chestplate. “Hey there, little boss-bot. I’m sorry I’m late again, I...”

“Spare me the apologies, Grindcore, I’ve heard them all before,” the tiny foremech responded as he glared up at the tardy construction worker who was twice his own size. “And my name’s Erector, not ‘little boss-bot’! You will do good to remember that! Understood?”

“Y...Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, why are you late this time? Hungover again?”

“Ah, no sir! I mean, I drank a little last night but not that much. I swear!”

“You sure?” Erector pressed on as he strained his neck to look up at Grindcore. “I’ll be the judge of that! Now, hold still!” The foremech uncrossed his arms and grabbed a hold of one of Grindcore’s legs. Swiftly, Erector climbed up the front of his larger subordinate’s frame until he was holding on to the heavy lifter’s chest plate with both small hands. Erector was then able to stare directly into Grindcore’s optics to see if he was telling the truth. “Hmmm, you’re optics appear to be energon shot, not indicative of only drinking a little.”

“I...I’m fine. I promise!”

“You’re hungover!” Sniff, sniff! “And your breath stinks of high grade. This will not do, Grindcore. This will simply not do!” Climbing back down, Erector stood back from the larger mech and pointed a stern actuator up at him. “You need to stop this, ‘Core. You’re a good worker, one of my best, but you can’t keep overflowing your tanks like this. It’s going to get you into serious trouble some cycle. You’re supposed to be a heavy lifter, not a heavy drinker!”

“I’m...I’m sorry, boss,” Grindcore replied, looking ashamed of himself. It wasn’t the first time he’d had a similar conversation like this with Erector and it likely wouldn’t be the last. He just couldn’t help himself once he started drinking the high grade. It was like a drug. He couldn’t have just one shot. “I’ll do better. I promise.”

“I hope so, Grindcore,” Erector replied, lowering his hand to his side. “I’d hate to lose you over something stupid such as this. Now, you’re in no shape to handle heavy loads right now. I’m assigning you to maintenance work over on the Trion.”

“The Trion?! But that ship’s finished. There’s nothing left to build!”

“I know, that’s the point. The outer haul still needs a good shining. She’s got to look nice and pristine for her maiden voyage, after all. Grab an auto-buffer and get to work. That’s an order!”

Grindcore grumbled under his breath. He was a builder not a cleaner. This was not just demeaning, it was down right torturous. “Fine. But my abilities are wasted over there.”

“Yes, just as they’re wasted in the bar. Now go,” Erector said sternly as he crossed his arms once more. Having no other choice, Grindcore let out a heavy sigh before stomping off towards the Trion. “One cycle, you’ll learn, ‘Core. At least, I hope you do.”

Shaking his cranial unit in disappointment, Erector turned and looked over at the other construction mechs who had been watching the proceedings nearby. “What are you fraggers staring at?! Get back to work or you’ll be joining him!” The minibot bellowed as the group of seemingly tough ‘Bots quickly dispersed, heading for there respective assignments. Erector shook his head again before walking back to the control room where he could closely monitor his subordinates.

Main Shipyard

Stockade didn’t have a difficult time following or keeping up with Grindcore as the hung over mech finally made it to the location he was stationed to work at. The construction worker had stopped upon his arrival and offered his fellow co-workers with an excuse as to why he was late for his shift. Of course Grindcore had to throw in his meeting with Stockade, but it was to be expected.

The weapons specialist stayed his advance when he heard the voice of Erector bellow through the yard. The minibot was someone with whom he’d met, but it had been quite a while since him and Erector spoken.

From his vantage point Stockade watched both foremech and subordinate as Grindcore tried in vain to explain what had happened, but it didn’t go over well. Stackade let out a sigh as he listened in further to what Erector had to say. This isn’t the first time he showed up drunk? Primus this mech is gonna wind up killin’ himself…or worse someone else.

Once Grindcore was dismissed and began to walk off to begin his new assignment, Stockade made for the minibot that was then retreating to the control room.

“Erector. It’s good to see ya.”

Stockade quickened his pace until he was walking beside the foremech.

“I’d like to talk to ya about one of your guys. Do ya have a breem?”

Main Shipyard - Control Room

As he made his way back to the control room, Erector’s attention was drawn away from his intended destination by the sound of Stockade’s vocal processor. Turning his head to look over at the weapons engineer, the minibot flashed him a quick smile. “Oh, hey Stockade. It’s good to see you, as well.” Erector slowed his pace somewhat to allow his fellow Autobot to catch up with him. It quickly became apparent that this was not a social call as Stockade was intent on speaking with the yellow and grey mech about one of his workers.

Erector let out a deep sigh as he came to a stop just outside the control room entrance. “Sure, no problem. Why don’t we talk inside where I can keep an optic on my guys through the video feeds. Sound good?” Not waiting for a response, Erector entered the control room and sat down in front of a series of monitors that allowed him to view the entirety of the shipyards. The large screens seemed to overpower his tiny form, but Erector was not bothered by it at all. From his small chair he could clearly see everything that was happening, including Grindcore’s movements as the hungover 'Bot continued on towards the Trion, having already grabbed an auto-buffer in order to accomplish his task. The heavy lifter appeared to be grumbling to himself, still unhappy with his new assignment. Grindcore’s feelings mattered not to the foremech just as long as the job was completed and overall safety was maintained.

Erector then swiveled around in his chair to face Stockade. “Please have a seat, my friend.” The minibot motioned towards a chair next to him. “So, this is about Grindcore, right? I know it is. I can tell just by the fact that you entered the yards soon after he did. What did he do? Punch someone, you perhaps? Damage one of your plasma cannons in a drunken stupor? Nothing you say would surprise me at this point. That big mech’s just lucky he’s one of my best builders when he’s sober. Otherwise, I would’ve shipped him out a long time ago.”

Erector shook his cranium as he waited for a response from Stockade. He was prepared for anything, or at least almost anything. A part of him dreaded the eventual answer he would receive while another part simply accepted it as just another chapter in the drunken existence that was Grindcore.

Alpha Shipyards – Energon Bar

Warhaul was normally alright. He had kept some of his more indulgent tendencies in check since being assigned to this Autobot out post and that was just as well, since most of them wouldn't work out too well amongst the upper muckety-mucks if he went too overboard. But he wasn't going overboard now. Not really. Over what he needed? Maybe. But they all needed to do that from time to time.

And then his drink was gone, in a flash of energy and energon.

“Hey, wait a minute, I paid for that-“ some voice from some other corner of the room said. Warhaul made it a point to remember it, so he could buy the same vocal signature a drink later.

This other 'Bot held the majority of his attention though, rattling on and on about Primus and his supposedly divine will. On top of all that, he had blasted his drink out of existence.

What in the slaggin' red Pit does he think he's...?

"How 'bout I fill you with the enlightenment of my fist?" Warhaul growled as he reached across the table and attempted to connect his fist with the other mech's cranial unit. If he wasn't going to get an energon overload, he was going to satisfy some other primal urge.

Berth-6 Corridor

Cosmos had always been one of the smaller Autobots, so he was used to having to physically look up at other mechs. Even so, he was nowhere near prepared for just how intimidating the Dinobots would be. Even the smallest of the group, Swoop, was twice his size.

Most unfortunately for Cosmos, the worst of them was also the first one to approach him. The short, stocky mech tried as best he could to keep a calm demeanor, but it was no good when Slag came growling and every bit as threatening as any Decepticon would be.

"Sorry!", Cosmos apologized as he moved to the side as quickly as he could, "I'm so sorry, there's no need for that! I didn't mean to offend you or anythihg!"

Next came the Dinobot leader. As Cosmos tried to regain his composure and give Grimlock the friendly greeting he had hoped to give, the hulking mech brought his hand up in front of the green mech. Though the Dinobot leader didn't physically touch Cosmos, the flying saucer had already been rattled enough that he lost his balance. Cosmos tried desperatally to stay standing, wobbling back and forth, only to comically fall down.

"OOF!", he exclaimed as his aft hit the floor.

As if things couldn't get any worse, Snarl stood over him, reiterating Slag's earlier threat if the flying saucer didn't do as their leader told him.

Sludge stood just behind the others watching the whole ordeal. He chuckled in his low, almost lizard-like voice as the other Dinobots bullied Cosmos. Maybe the little green mech was just trying to be friendly, but if Sludge had learned anything about his team it was that they didn't do friendly.

"Me Sludge like watching funny little spaceship Autobot.", he laughed, "Maybe he fall down more when he show us where bar is."

Cosmos dusted himself off and got back to his feet, hoping to save some level of dignity. He looked behind him and saw several technicians standing a good distance back. None of them wanted to get too close to the Dinobots, and a few were even laughing at Cosmos' fall. Cosmos looked back up at the Dinobots.

All right, they're in a grumpy mood, that's to be expected.], Cosmos thought, It was probably a long, boring trip. Maybe after a few drinks they'll be more friendly. Yeah, I'll just get them to the bar and show Grimlock to Countdown, then I'm sure they'll all be in a better mood.

"A-Alright Grimlock.", Cosmos answered Grimlock while barely hiding his nervousness, "I'll show your team to the station's energon bar, then take you to meet our Commander, Countdown."

Cosmos transformed in front of the Dinobots into his flying saucer mode. He hovered around the large mech's eye-level, making extra careful not fo get too close to Slag.

"I hope you don't mind if I'm in this mode.", the flying saucer said, "I'm pretty slow in normal gravity as a robot, so this way I won't be lagging behind. And hopefully you won't be as tempted to play 'Kick the Cosmos"

As the flying saucer hovered down the corridor, the Dinobots hopefully following behind, he sent a communication with the station's commander.

>>Cosmos to Countdown, I'm with the Dinobots right now. I'll be taking Grimlock to your office after I show the others to the energon bar, it'll probably take about a breem. You, uh, you might want to inform Kick-Off about them.<<

Sludge was disappointed when Cosmos had transformed.

"Aw, slag.", Sludge commented, "Me Sludge wanted to see short clumsy Autobot fall down more."

The jungle warrior shrugged and sighed. The trip there might not be as funny anymore, but it looked like they would still get to spend time at the bar. He looked around at the other Dinobots, then followed along as they went.

------------------------

Energon Bar

"You don't want to do that." Highcall tried to calm the angry drunken Warhaul down, "That's the excess energon corrupting your judg- OOF!!"

The religous engineer's head was turned to the side as the technician's fist connected with his face. Highcall staggered a few steps back, he brought his hand up to feel his face where Warhaul had hit him. Some light indentation, nothing serious. If anything Highcall was surprised that it hadn't hurt more, since Warhaul was significantly larger than him. All the excess energon substitute probably threw off the technician's coordination.

Highcall took a deep breath, shook off the pain, and stepped back up to Warhaul. Despite having been attacked he kept a calm demeanor. Regardless of whatever the technician did or say, Highcall would not lower himself to physically fight back. He was a devoted follower of Primus and he would not try to persuade a lost spark with a hit to the face or a shot in the chest.

"I understand you're upset that I destroyed your drink.", Highcall tried to calm him again, putting his hands out in front of him, "But all that drink would have down was further damage your internal fuel systems and continued your path of self destruction. You don't need to follow this path, there is a far better path that has already been laid before you."

Highcall jumped onto the stool, then onto the table. He stood up tall and proud, ignoring the fact that Warhaul could easily grab and throw him or hit him in the legs. Highcall wanted to make sure his words would be heard throughout the bar, that they would have more power behind them.

"For we are the servants of Primus, as he gave us life.", Highcall shouted as loud as his vocalizer would allow, "Our purpose is not to fulfill our own desires, but to carry out His will until the Final Battle has been determined! Until the day, when all are one, we shall follow His Divine Light, and cast...."

Main Shipyard – Control Room

“Sure. Talking somewhere more private would be good.”

Stockade flashed the minibot a friendly smile after all he wasn’t in the presence of his team whom he would offer a completely different demeanor. The tall, stocky mech followed behind Erector as he moved to the control room where he could monitor his team.

Once secure in the room, Erector offered the weapons specialist a seat which he gladly accepted. He gave the mnibot an awkward look as he scanned the screens paying close attention to the one Grindcore was on. Erector’s mention of the mech Stockade had initially intended to speak to him about surprised him. Apparently this mech was and still is a problem.

Stockade leaned back slightly as he placed a hand around the base of the right side of his neck cables. How do I go about this when this mech has already gotten himself into trouble?

“Unfortunately, it is my friend.”

The list of questions Erector was spewing caught Stockade by surprise causing his hand to drop from his neck and his mouth to drop open slightly.

“No. No. He didn’t do anything like that. At least I don’t think he did.”

Stockade’s optics lowered as he let out a heavy sigh. Good workers were so hard to find nowadays and losing one to their own devices or worse, some horrific accident…it just wasn’t something Stockade wanted to happen.

“Look, Erector, the mech is a danger to others. But more importantly he’s a danger to himself. He ran right into me in the corridor while he was headed here for his shift. I managed to stop him, if nothing but for an apology…he offered to buy me a drink.”

The mech raised his eyes to meet the other ‘Bot’s. His head shaking slightly.

“I’m not gonna tell you how to do your job or what to do, but you gotta know by now that some kind of action has got to be taken.”

Beta – 6 Corridors

From the Ark – 19 Slag had bullied his way out past the others and into the corridor beyond the docking platform. After sending an unfriendly growled warning the flamethrower pushed beyond Cosmos who was trying his hardest to be as polite and apologetic as possible….it didn’t work.

Once Slag was in a larger location he turned to look at the other gathered Dinobots. They all seemed to be just standing there listening to the green cretin. Oh what he wouldn’t give to punt the little runt out the airlock. Even Cosmos’ comical tumble didn’t draw a smile from the angry Dinobot. If anything the mech’s inability to keep himself upright was worthy of nothing but death in Slag’s optics.

At Sludge’s outburst of laughter due to the stumbling flying saucer, Slag simply offered the desert warrior a deep rumbling growl.

“Are we gonna stand here all fragging day and watch this piece of dredge fall all over the place?”

Without receiving any kind of answer, Cosmos transformed and hovered in front of the group of five…a deep sneer on Slag’s face as he was so tempted to swat the nuisance out of his way. But Grimlock wanted them to be subdued. What Grimlock don’t know won’t hurt him.

A wide toothy grin formed on Slag’s face as he began to follow the little flying saucer. One way or another Slag would have some fun. Slag perked up at Cosmos’ last words.

“Now that sounds like fun. I wonder how many kicks I can get in before you lose!”

Energon Bar

From Skyfall’s vantage point he had the perfect view of just what was going on between Warhaul and that religious zealot Highcall. Both were trash in the weapon engineer’s optics, but to watch the two go at it was still highly entertaining.

The whole ’shooting the drink’ was just priceless. It not only brought a smile to his face, even though no one could see it, it also brought out a hearty laugh. Something he hadn’t done is years. Yes this was certainly entertaining.

Skyfall let out a low sigh when he noticed that things were slowing down. That was until Warhaul reared back and let loose a punch to the preacher’s faceplate. At that Skyfall leaned forward in his chair, his aft nearly off the seat in anticipation. When the expected retaliation did not come the engineer groaned and rolled his head. He slowly leaned back in his chair and slid his face plate out of the way so he could finish his drink.

Finishing the last gulp the red mech placed the mug down on his table and made ready to order another when he heard Highcall step up on a chair and then climb onto the table. Now this is interesting. But the rhetoric spewing forth was nothing any of them hadn’t heard before.

Unwilling to take the boredom of the situation to light, Skyfall slammed his hand on his table and called out.

“Go preach somewhere else yah frenzied freak! No one here wants your 'enlightenment' nor do they need it! Everyone is due their peace with a little relaxation and a little company! There ain’t anything saying your rhetoric is wanted here! Take it somewhere else Highcall or someone will do it for ya!”

Main Shipyard - Control Room

Erector relaxed in his chair a bit at the revelation that Grindcore hadn’t done anything too bad in his hungover state. Bumping into Stockade was a far cry from some of the things he’d done in the past. Perhaps the heavy lifter was getting better, if only a little. Maybe the many lectures he has received from the foremech was finally beginning to sink in if for no other reason but to avoid further admonishments in the future. This time was a slip, but at least it was a non-violent slip.

The grey and yellow mech let out a sigh when Stockade told him that Grindcore was a danger to himself and others. Erector couldn’t argue with that line of thinking, especially when the heavy lifter was deep into his tenth cube of high grade. However, being hungover, while not exactly safe, was nothing compared to showing up completely intoxicated. Under the right supervision, Grindcore would be able to perform the task given to him without the threat of harm to his fellow workers.

“Well, I can’t disagree with many of your points, Stockade,” Erector began to say as he straightened his posture. “Showing up in his condition can be dangerous if he was assigned to a job that involved lifting or building, anything that could bring harm to an unobservant mech. However, I’ve seen fit to give Grindcore the simple task of polishing the Trion. I can’t really see him causing much harm there. Besides, the hangover he’s got will go away soon and then he’ll be fine, I can assure you. I’ve dealt with worse before.”

Erector then considered Stockade’s assertion that some kind of more permanent action was long over due. “I don’t want to lose him. Grindcore’s a damn good worker when he’s sober and thus on time. And I’ve tried to get him help, going so far as to try and get him to speak with Highcall. I don’t really subscribe to all that Primus stuff, myself, but I’ve heard it can change some mechs’ sparks for the better. Naturally, ‘Core wouldn’t go for it. All I can do is keep a close optic on him and hope he eventually learns. I believe he can change if he wants to. That much I have faith in.”

The foremech glanced over at the monitor as he simultaneously reached over to adjuster one of the cameras, initiating a close-up of Grindcore’s current location. “You know, I think a lot of what’s eating away at Grindcore is his desire to be something more. Did you know that he dreams of being a Wrecker?” The minibot asked as his attention was returned to Stockade. “It’s true. Grindcore wants to be out there fighting ‘Cons with the best of the best. I think he even tried to join the Wreckers once, but they rejected him. Not sure if he was a heavy drinker at the time, but it’s possible. So, he’s just been wasting away here at the shipyards instead of living his dream. Must be difficult for him to say the least.”

Erector glanced down at the floor for a moment before returning his gaze to the weapons engineer. “That rejection I feel either started his drinking problem or exasperated it. Either way, he’s been hard to deal with ever since.” Shaking his cranium, the foremech glanced back over at the monitor where he could see that Grindcore was now stopped and staring directly up at the camera, giving the appearance that he was looking right at Erector, himself. The heavy lifter then raised his right arm and stuck up his middle actuator at the camera, clearly showing that he knew his boss was watching him. Erector couldn’t help but let out an uneasy chuckle. “Although, he’s always been a real charmer. Heh.”

Berth-6 Corridor

Snarl let out a hearty laugh as he watched Cosmos fumble about and eventually fall to the floor in a tiny heap. Glancing over at Sludge, the Desert Warrior couldn’t help but crack a brief smile at the comic relief that was before them. “Yeah, maybe he fall down again and get stepped on by Slag. That would be extra funny. Ha ha!” Snarl then returned his attention to the green minibot as he managed to pick himself up off the floor. The plated Dinobot’s smile had faded as quickly as it had appeared. Only in battle was the solar-powered mech truly happy.

Finally, Cosmos agreed to show them to the bar even as Slag had already pushed by him before turning to address the rest of the Dinobots. Snarl shrugged in response to his impatient comrade. “Me not stand around all cycle. Me get going now. Come on, Sludge.” The Desert Warrior motioned for his slow-witted friend to follow before moving further into the corridor and away from the docking platform. “Me can’t wait to get taste of high grade. Haven’t had that since before, well,” Snarl cast a quick glare back at Grimlock. “Since before we go sleep for long time. Heh.”

Once his slight jab had been given, Snarl turned to face the now transformed Cosmos, who was hovering at about optic level. The flying saucer was buzzing about like an irritating, green Insecticon. Unfortunately, the Desert Warrior wasn’t fond of Insecticons, not in any way shape or form. “Just be careful and don’t knock into me, saucer-bot. Even in air, me can still swat you like bug.”

Energon Bar

Kick-Off burst into the room with two of his security mechs with him. The sight that greeted him elicited a lout sigh. Highcall was standing on a table preaching at the other Bots, of all things. He was going to have ANOTHER long talk with him about this. He was a good little Bot, he just needed to learn when to cut it out. Not everybody was interested in hearing ‘the good word.’ Then there was the mech who, from all appearances, was staggering drunk. He was going to have to talk to the bartender about cutting Bots off when they’ve had too much. Security had better things to do then deal with this.

The Security Chief adopted his official voice and spoke loud enough to be heard over Highcall. “Alright everyone, Autobot Security is here! Everyone remain seated while we take care of the situation!” Kick-Off pointed at Warhaul and his security mechs moved over to him. “Sir, we are going to take you somewhere where you can take care of that energon overload alright? We don’t want you disturbing these good Bots ok? When you’ve recovered we’ll talk more.”

Kick-Off looked at one of his security mechs. “Test his energon levels, although I can tell they are through the roof let’s be official. Charge him with public intoxication and disturbing the peace, assuming he doesn’t resist arrest. If he does resist use the inhibitor claw. Either way throw him in the drunk tank to sleep this off.” The ‘drunk tank’ was the nickname they gave to an isolation cell in the brig. It was a room with drains on the floor and sprayers on the ceiling, nominally built to take care of possibly infectious beings. Its primary usage on the station was taking care of the drunks since it made for an easy cleanup.

The Autobot then turned his attention to Highcall. “Highcall, please get off the table and come down here. I’ve warned you about this behavior before. I understand what you are doing, but you can force your religion on other bots. Now I have a call that you opened fire in here. Is that true Highcall? You know better then that.”

*

Side Burn smiled as security came in to bust up the craziness. He had been getting ready to jump into the fray himself to separate the crazy Bot from the overloaded one. He wasn’t ready to defend either of them since they were both at the very least annoying, but he didn’t want to seem them injure each other. They were all on the same side after all, best not to waste energy beating each other up. The warrior was more then happy to let the professionals deal with it now.

“So baby, what were we talking…” He turned to where his female companion had been sitting to see and empty seat. Apparently things had gotten a bit too dangerous for her liking and she had taken off. “Slaggit,” Side Burn muttered as he ordered a new drink. Hopefully some other pretty face would come through that he could chat up.

*

Berth-6 Corridor

Grimlock nodded at the now hovering Cosmos. “That fine, but me think you should hurry. Bored Dinobots usually become violent Dinobots.” He didn’t mean it as a thread but a statement of fact. It was certainly true for Slag, and Snarl seemed to be in a foul mood, as usual. Sludge would just get sucked into whatever everyone else was doing. Swoop was the only one who could stay calm, but he wasn’t exactly going to be stopping the rest of them. The sooner they were somewhere else and keeping busy the better.

The Dinobot leader silently followed behind Cosmos as the made their way through the station. Grimlock wasn’t terribly familiar with the base, it having not existed when he was last active. He had to grudgingly admit it was an impressive place. Of course any place that constructed warships would have to be massive, but it seemed quite high tech, a veritable city in space. Staying here for long enough you could probably forget the war even existed. Ironically without the war the entire base probably wouldn’t exist at all.

Grimlock shook his head. He wasn’t here to ponder the existence of the station and the war. He was here to take a big step to ending the war. With leadership on both sides in question and with the Trion backing him he could alter the course of the war in its entirety, pushing it well down the road to Autobot victory. That was all that mattered.

Energon Bar

After his blow connected, Warhaul was spoiling for a fight. The mechanoid on the other end of the table could have been Megatron himself at this point and he would have been willing to go a few rounds.

No...that was a little much. His sensors weren't that overloaded. He would have duked it out with a Predacon warlord maybe, but not Megatron. Or Ultra Magnus. None of those big guys.

This religious glitch, though? Any orn. Any time. But the response hadn't come. Instead the preacher had put himself up on one of the tables and Warhaul had stumbled backward a little just to keep everything in view. More religious junk. Warhaul couldn't help but think this guy needed his own little temple somewhere on the grounds. But this bar slaggin' sure wasn't gonna be it.

Not long after that, more voices burst in and drowned out Highcall's sermon, and soon Warhaul found arms around his, escorting him towards the exit.

"Oh no y-you d-don...!" Warhaul started to bark out, but before he could even get any real momentum, he felt his arms forced behind him and sealed by restraints so that he couldn't move. "Slagfraggit."

Off to the tank.

Great.

Main Shipyard – Control Room

After voicing his own opinion of the state he had encountered Grindcore in Stockade leaned back in his chair and waited for Erector’s reply to his concerns. Stockade anticipated what the supervisor would say….he’d probably do the same for a mech on his team he felt was irreplaceable. But there was still that lingering feeling that a mech like that would be more trouble than they’re worth.

And here it was. Stockade didn’t have to wait long at all. Erector’s reply was a carbon copy of the one he himself had written and filed away in his processor. Predictability aside Stockade kept his expression understanding. There was no need to work on any bad blood between him and the other supervisor. Erector was a good mech and a damn good foremech.

Upon Erector explaining his past dealings with Grindcore and his problem, Stockade gave a satisfied nod. If Erector knew this mech and his habit so intimately then perhaps he didn’t have reason to be concerned. But there was still something tugging at his back of his processor…something pinging him to press the issue further. The urge was suppressed. He knows what he’s doing. He’s a good mech. He’ll keep an eye on him. No worries.

Stockade leaned forward, placing his forearms on his legs as he listened to some of the history that Erector laid out about his subordinate. The desire to join the Wreckers was certainly an ambitious one…and also a death sentence. Why a mech would willingly want to join that team was a mystery to him. The mysticism that surrounded them…the eerie way in which mechs were contacted, the notion that once you were contacted through those means it was an omen that it would be your final mission. To Stockade, Grindcore either wished for adventure or wished for death.

“The Wreckers. Heh. Ambitious mech. He should count himself lucky he’d been rejected. Being a Wrecker just makes you a statistic in the end.”

The weapons specialist grew quite as he listened to the mech stationed at the console. He seemed to know Grindcore quite well.

“How long have you known him? It sounds like it was since before the war. Am I wrong?”

Energon Bar

After giving Highcall his all Skyfall flopped back down into his chair and placed his feet back on the table top. He watched for a moment as Kick-Off stormed into the bar in all his glory. Primus he hated the security chief. Then again Skyfall hated just about anyone he couldn’t get anything from. Especially anything that would push him ahead of everyone else.

The weapon engineer took a long chug of his drink as focused on the goings on between the security staff and the hostile Warhaul. Skyfall chuckled around the rim of his glass as the clearly drunk mech was led away in restraints…a single curse spilling from his vocalizer.

As Kick-Off approached the annoying religious zealot Skyfall wiggled slightly in his seat to settle in more comfortably for the upcoming show. He was greatly disappointed when all Kick-Off did was give him was a good talking to. The frag? Come on!

“You’re kidding me, right? You drag Warhaul away for being drunk and you give that lunatic an admonishing finger shake?! He aint’ no fragging protoform! That slagheaded nutjob opened fire in here! Am I right?”

There was a round of agreement from a large majority of the patrons. Pleased with himself and the amount of agreements he received to his accusations, Skyfall rose from his chair and made his way to the two mechs; his mask securely back in place hiding any kind of expression he wore.

“If this is the kind of security we’re graced with then this place is sure to fall to the ‘Cons.”

With a shake of his head the engineer let out a sigh.

“I suppose I’ll need to up my efforts to assure that the rest of the Autobots across the galaxy are suitably armed with the most advanced weapons. That would be the only way to convince everyone stationed here that the ‘Cons would never make it here.”

After a moment Skyfall finally let out a hearty laugh and placed a hand on Kick-Off’s shoulder.

“Oh slag! That was priceless! You should have seen your face.”

His laughter quieted quickly as he grew serious.

“In all seriousness, Highcall did discharge a weapon. And if you ask me, he was also disturbing the peace by making a spectacle of himself. I’m just sayin.”

Need to make nice after something like that.