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Hangar

Onslaught had acknowledged Razorclaw's precautionary warning. Debris falling on any of their kind, especially juiced up on ultra-energon as they currently were, was more likely to be an inconvenience more than a death sentence. And so the Combaticon had not gone rifling through the leftovers of the destroyed catwalks looking for Shockwave's remains. Had he done so, he would have found what Razorclaw had found--and surely was prepared to find--a very much functional Shockwave.

As Shockwave's grip had cinched itself around Razorclaw's cranial support, Onslaught had tensed, bringing his weapon to bear. But he did not fire. Such close quarters combat--this was Razorclaw's wheelhouse if anything was. If he failed here--now--perhaps Onslaught had backed the wrong horse, to cite a Terran colloquialism.

Onslaught's faith in Razorclaw's abilities, both mental and physical, was justified. A quick, brutal move had finally dealt the necessary damage to the potent cyclops. And then the words.

"I yield."

Onslaught lowered his weapon, his body relaxing as if Motormaster had just stepped off of his chest cavity. This fight was over. But there was still fighting in the hangar. How could there not be? Take this many fuelthirsty Decepticons and give them a chance to have a go at each other with no rules? It's a wonder the ship was still spaceworthy at this point. But increasingly, more and more of them were turning from their individual fights, some of them in mid-strike, to look and see what exactly was happening between Razorclaw and Shockwave.

Onslaught almost couldn't believe it. In Megatron's profound absence, Razorclaw had managed to overcome two of his most potent lieutenants--those lieutenants carrying the support of even more potent lieutenants. Starscream and Shockwave were not ones to have their ambitions overcome easily, and nor were they. And even now, Onslaught was not so stupid as to suspect that either of them considered themselves fully defeated regardless of how fresh it might be in their minds. To say nothing of others who surely would still see themselves as the rightful heirs to Megatron's throne. That list could surely extend into the dozens. Some of them patently ridiculous and others frighteningly viable. None would replace Megatron. Onslaught could see that now, perhaps even more clearly than when they had first made their move against Shockwave back on Cybertron. But Razorclaw.....with everything that he had put together, with everything that he had overcome....Onslaught was convinced now more than ever that he was the best successor possible.

"All hail Razorclaw!" Onslaught shouted, hoisting his weapon in the air, hoping the words would rally not only those who had fought for this moment, but those who could not stop fighting.

Subtly, his gaze caught both that of Brawl and Blast-Off, motioning for them to flank his and the Predacon's position. With Starscream, Soundwave, Thunderwing and Shockwave still present, no degree of caution would be too excessive.

Hangar

"Your slaggin' LAST mistake!!"

If only. Skullcruncher's battle instincts, honed in the very same pits Tantrum had fought, had taken over. The moment Tantrum pulled himself away from the little test of strength the Predacon had been losing - Skullcruncher knew Tantrum was reaching for his sword. Thus, quite naturally, he did the same.

Tantrum's thrust was swatted aside by a mighty swing from Skullcruncher's serrated sword as the heavy Decepticon mauler parried the Predacon fueler's attack the only way he knew - with brute force. Enough brute force to send Tantrum staggering back towards the direction he came from.

Before the battle could continue on Skullcruncher heard Razorclaw's proclamation. Which was quickly followed by number of Decepticons beginning to chant the Predacon leader's name and form up a protective wall of bodies around their new leader - the Combaticons like Brawl and Onslaught and the Predacon Headstrong most proficiently. Motormaster had made it back to his feet as well and was now leaning on Breakdown while holding one hand to cover the hole in his chest.

This new development of the situation made Skullcruncher to stop on his tracks and lower his sword. It didn't really matter to him whether Razorclaw or Shockwave was in command, he would follow the victor. It was the Decepticon way.

However, he was still eyeing Tantrum suspiciously. The rage issues of the Predacon fueler were simply just too well known for him to lower his guard despite of Shockwave's capitulation.

"All hail Razorclaw."

Hangar

Tantrum's vision was red now. His anger rushed to the fore, engulfing him in an overwhelming flood. He welcomed it. It was probably the only thing in existense his central core would induce any measure of joy from.

He revelled in the heat of the sensation and brought his sword up, to rush Skullcruncher and pound him, pummel him until there was nothing more left of the bastard than a broken, twitching wreck bathed in its own fluid, torn limb from limb. Anything and anyone ended like that if they got in Tantrum's way.

But it seemed, events would take a different turn.

The red fog that had descended on Tantrum's senses almost completely was penetrated by a chant. Voices, either exultant from victory or resigned by defeat, chorused a single cry.

All hail Razorclaw!

Tantrum forced himself to take a good look around. Their opponents either subdued or broken, they stood tall and triumphant in the middle of a messy, fluid stained hangar bay. Even Shockwave himself at the mercy of the Predacon Commander's swordtip. A swift and brutal victory, so characteristic of the Predacons.

But his own thirst had not yet been quenched. He had cranials to smash, arterial fluid lines to rip open.

Skullcruncher was staring at him, alert and wary as he echoed the hails to Razorclaw

Tantrum's grip tightened around the handle of his own electro-sword. He almost took a step towards his adversary from less than a breem before but was halted by another, fleeting glance.

Razorclaw shifted his gaze across the hangar to assess the circumstances and briefly caught Tantrum's own.

And Tantrum recognized in that glance one of the very few things that were sufficient to keep him in check. Lethal authority that only the Predacon Commander could possess. This was a decisive moment. If the forces present didn't act as one to consolidate the achieved victory here, all of it would fall apart in a matter of breems and hostilities would renew.

Tantrum wouldn't have minded that, honestly. But he was far from being as stupid as he was angry, and he understood the importance. If everything crumbled because of him, Razorclaw would most likely have him gutted at the soonest opportunity. Formidable as Tantrum was, he had learned a long time ago that path would be a downwward one for him.

His jaw compartment tightening, he let out a thunderous roar and thrust his sword down into the hangar floor in a two-handed grip. In a shower of sparks, metal screeched as it was penetrated, halting the blade only after it was buried up to half its length.

'All... hail... Razorclaw...' Tantrum spat through gritted teeth. His boiling anger subsided, but it didn't fully disappear.

Hangar

Shockwave had lost. There was nothing more to say. The fight for the throne was done and won. Weirdwolf had no true allegiances in this fight, so a pronouncement of loyalty to Razorclaw was an easy enough feat to accomplish. So far as true loyalty went in the Decepticons. Had Scorponok been here to battle for the throne, there would have been little competition, of that the tracker was sure. No one could replace Megatron, but under the circumstances, Razorclaw had proven to be the best viable candidate.

"All hail the king of beasts."

The scathing irony of those words was not lost on Weirdwolf as he glanced down at Rampage's unmoving form beside him. Interesting these next few cycles would be. Small fights were still erupting about the hangar despite the victor being declared. Not unexpected really. Skullcruncher has followed him into combat, his prey of choice being Tantrum, one of the more volatile Predacons. This became more evident as Tantrum was called off of his attack, roaring in frustration. A very interesting few cycles indeed. Still, it did not appear as though Tantrum were going to attack Skullcruncher now. Even if he did, Skullcruncher was more than capable of fending for himself.

The decepticon tracker turned his attention over to the cluster of Seekers, remembering their presence in the fight. "Perhaps this fight is not yet won," Weirdwolf muttered to himself aloud as he often did, "Be it that the Seekers are not yet done."

------

Divebomb had been happily raining destruction onto the Vehicons from above. Then, he spotted Shadowing, one of Shockwave's very few subordinated. The Predacon eagle swooped down to attack cheerfully as he usually did. At least until Shadowing managed to pin his wing to the floor with his short sword and was preparing to blast off his head. What a pathetic way to go out. Especially for a Predacon. It was enough to make his energon boil.

Right at the critical moment, Shadowing neglected to pull the trigger. Instead, Shockwave finally admitted defeat to Razorclaw. Shadowing reluctantly removed his sword from Divebomb's wing. Divebomb was momentarily assailed by the impulse to gut Shockwave's crony here and now for his humiliation. One swift strike would repay Divebomb's suffering ten-fold.

However, Onslaught shouted a hail to the new overlord of the Decepticons, Razorclaw. Resisting the impulse, Divebomb rose and looked over to where his commander stood triumphant. There was always time to scheme for revenge. A chorus of hails to Razorclaw sounded from various parts of the hangar. This was the beginning of the era of the Predacons! Keeping a wary optic on Shadowing, Divebomb screeched out his on hail to his commander.

"All hail Razorclaw!"

((EDIT: Added Divebomb to the post.))

(OOC: Ember's characters used with her permission)

Hangar

Starscream had transformed and soared up into the limited airspace of the hangar, dodging his initial attacks. Soundwave was far from done with the seeker. The battle raged all around him but the Decepticon kept his visor firmly locked onto the seeker. He was to blame for all of this, from the death of Megatron to this miniature civil war taking place all around them both. He was going to remove this nuisance once and for all and, no matter what side of this battle that won, they would undoubtedly be grateful to him. If Starscream himself wasn’t in charge then he would only plot and scheme against whoever was. By eliminating him, Soundwave would get both personal satisfaction and curry favor with whoever ended up in command once the dust settled.

Soundwave raised his right arm to shield himself from some of Starscream’s return fire. At the same time he launched a volley of mini-rockets back at the flier. Starscream was unquestionably a better flier then he, but he wasn’t a better fighter. He just needed to bring him back down to the ground. The hangar was big, but not big enough for him to keep flying around in his alternate mode, especially not while being fired upon and dodging whatever stray fire there was from the other fights.

His plan succeeded as Starscream was forced to transform back to his robot mode in the air to gain some maneuverability, but at the cost of pure speed. Soundwave leveled his concussion gun at him, confident that he could shoot him down. Before he could fire however, the seeker swooped down at him, slamming into him with both of his fists at full tilt. The blow knocked the gun from his hands and lifted him off his feet, but he quickly recovered. He grabbed a hold of Starscream, forcing them to fly together as he wrested with him, throwing in punches and kicks wherever he could.

*

Ratbat danced in the air over Nightraven’s head, dodging her return fire. “I’ll have to remember this once you are scrapped, your optics are possibly defective. Of course that seems to be a common trait among you seekers. You talk a big fight beforehand but when it comes to actual combat none of you seem to be able to hit anything!” Ratbat cackled loudly as he continued darting around.

At the same time Rumble was recovering from his failed attack. He was frustrated that he couldn’t just set the ground to shaking; it was what he was known for after all. Maybe there was some other way he could put his signature move to use though. Getting back on his feet he ran over to Nightraven, who was busy shooting at Ratbat, transforming his arms into piledrivers as he went. “Time ta knock ya down to size ya dumb chick!” he yelled before triggering one of the piledrivers into the back of Nightraven’s knee.

The blow was enough to drop the seeker down to one knee and trigger a series of loud guffaws from Rumble. Unfortunately for him she was able to last out with her other leg, kicking him back and away from her.

Ratbat watched with some amusement as Rumble was foiled yet again. Truly he was on the bottom rung of Decepticon society. Fortunately even the bottom dwellers had some value in providing a distraction. With Nightraven no longer firing on him the flying cassetticon made his move. He darted down towards Nightraven, landing on her shoulder and biting into her neck, his razor sharp fangs easily penetrating her armor and sinking into a fuel line. He greedily began absorbing her fuel, getting quite a rush from the ultra energon.

*

Ravage knew this is exactly what Skywarp would do. Teleporting behind an enemy was the full extent of his originality with the power of teleportation he possessed. He was another case of incredible ability being wasted on a dullard. If he possessed such a power then the war likely would have been over long ago. He was already the best Decepticon when it came to sabotage, scouting, even assassination. Give him teleporting abilities and he would be unstoppable.

Unfortunately in this battle he would simply have to rely on the vicious skill and cunning he did possess. As soon as Skywarp teleported Ravage leapt out of the shadows at him. He brought his front claws up to rake across his face as his jaw went right for his throat. If Soundwave was going to take down Starscream then he would happily take down the seeker’s closest supporter.

*

Thunderwing disliked not being a part of the action around him. The very leadership of the Decepticons was likely being decided around him but he was forced to take a detour. It was logical of course, there was no sense in throwing himself into battle when the odds of success were so firmly against him. That being said he wasn’t one would could just ignore the ultimate victory and prize he so desired being dangled in front of his optics. He needed to level the playing field quickly before it all slipped through his fingers.

The Decepticon quickly moved to the equipment that Blackwind had indicated. A brief scan showed that it contained an unknown, but highly potent, fuel source. Another time and place and he would have been eager to study the fuel to possess all of its secrets. Now however he knew that he needed to possess its raw power. Connecting himself to the device he began to siphon in the ultra energon.

The fuel washed through his systems. He could feel it burning through his circuits as if they were on fire. Energy coursed through his body, more then he had ever felt. This was power in its most pure form. This fuel, backed by his skill and intelligence, would make him unstoppable. Razorclaw, Shockwave, they were merely minor obstacles to him now. The empire would be his and none would be strong enough to wrest it from his claws.

Thunderwing’s head snapped up as he heard the calls, the ones hailing Razorclaw as their new leader. A sneer formed on his face as he ripped the connective hose away from his fuel port. He moved from the ruined lab back into the hangar “Razorclaw. Razorclaw is not worthy of your adoration or accolades. He is a fine hunter, a skilled warrior, but it takes far more then that to lead the Decepticons. It takes more then the raw computer power of Shockwave. It takes intelligence and ferocity, calculations and cunning, charisma and skill. There is only one Decepticon who posses the power and intelligence to lead now. And that is ME!”

Thunderwing launched himself into the air, thrusters on his back powering him rapidly towards Razorclaw. His clawed hands stretched out in front of him, the sharp fangs in his mouth exposed by his snarling expression. The electrostatic rifles on his shoulders swung into position, spitting shots at the Predacon leader as he flew right towards him.

Shadowing stood silently and watched the others submit to Razorclaw. He knew it was all a farce. A good percentage of the mechanoids in this room where likely calculating if they could take the title from him even as he spoke. It was only a time before someone would stand up and challenge him. Then Thunderwing rose his voice. A craven move which would lead to more.

"Pathetic." He said with thick venom in his voice then he turned to Divebomb. "You and the rest of the Predacons better do something. I don't like your commander's chances considering he just finished fighting Shockwave."

He turned and moved towards Shockwave. The battle of the would be conquerors was none of his concern.

Hangar

Blast-Off had flown rings around the hangar, spitting x-ray laser fire down on the unsuspecting vehicons below. Normally, the space warrior would have been much higher above the action, namely in the upper regions of some planet’s atmosphere. Unfortunately, in this case, he only had a hangar bay to work with, but it would suffice considering that his targets were mere drones that couldn’t shoot worth a damn especially back at an aerial adversary. “Run my little vehicons! Run like the pathetic cyber-ants that you are! Ha ha!”

Then it happened. Finally, Razorclaw had won his battle with Shockwave and everyone began chanting his name. As a result, Blast-Off cast his attention towards Onslaught who was motioning for him and Brawl to flank his position. The space warrior complied immediately and transformed back into this robot mode, landing beside the Combaticon Commander. “ALL HAIL RAZORCLAW!” Blast-Off shouted, raising his weapon into the air just like the others.

However, the celebration of their new leader was short lived as Thunderwing interrupted the proceedings and declared that the Predacon was also unfit to lead before launching himself directly at the lion-former. Just when everything seemed to have been settled, another contender had thrown his candidacy into the ring. This mech, however, had the advantage of having not been worn down by a fight yet, unlike Razorclaw, not to mention the warlord’s carapace technology that appeared to be virtually impenetrable.

“Commander,” Blast-Off began as he turned to look at Onslaught for guidance. “Should we do something to help Lord Razorclaw? Thunderwing has his carapace and seems to be powered up on ultra energon, giving him the advantage here. Or should we just wait and see how things play out, sir?”
_________

No sooner had Skywarp teleported behind Frenzy and began firing down on the diminutive mech’s position, he quickly found himself under attack from another of Soundwave’s cassette minions, Ravage! The four legged beast-former leapt from the shadows, forcing the prankster to break off his prior assault and swing his left arm around to block the mechanical panther’s claws from striking his faceplate. Instead, they raked across his forearm, leaving behind deep lacerations that exposed some internal circuitry and caused some minor bleeding of ultra energon.

“Ouch! That fraggin’ hurt!” Skywarp exclaimed as he abruptly stumbled backwards in order to avoid Ravage’s razor-sharp fangs from biting into his throat. Unfortunately, the teleporter lost his balance in the effort and fell hard directly onto his aft section. With little time to regain his composure, ‘Warp realized that he was literally a sitting duck-bot in his current position. Thus, he did what came naturally to him. He teleported again before either Ravage or Frenzy could mount a counterattack.

Reappearing high above the hangar floor, Skywarp initiated his foot thrusters to avoid falling back down into the death trap below. Quickly finding his quarry beneath him, the prankster transferred more ultra energon into his arm-mounted weapons and took aim at both Ravage and Frenzy. “Bad kitty,” the teleporter muttered before opening fire with the full fury of his new found power.
_________

The Predacon lord stood triumphant in the hangar, having now bested both Starscream and Shockwave. His claim to the throne of the Decepticon Empire had now been solidified for all to bare witness to. As the chants of “ALL HAIL RAZORCLAW” filled the cavernous room, the lion-former felt a sense of satisfaction that all of his hard work to reach this point had finally paid off. Even Shockwave’s former supporters were calling his name and accepting him as their new leader. Of course, that didn’t include all of the mechs in the room as Razorclaw was certain that Starscream and his seekers would continue to be against anyone who was not the former Seeker Commander. The Predacon lord half expected Starscream to attack him right then and there, but that was not to be, not yet, as the red and silver flier was still engaged in a battle with Soundwave. Razorclaw saw no reason to stop their fight as he would like nothing more than to allow the communications expert to take Screamer out of the equation for him entirely.

Unfortunately for the lion-former, Starscream was not the only one who felt that he was better suited for the position of Decepticon Supreme Commander. A new challenger had now entered the hangar from the science lab beyond the wall breach. It was none other than Thunderwing, the carapace-laced scientist that had recently re-emerged from isolation on Cybertron after being MIA for countless vorns as the war raged on for everyone else. Now, the warlord expected everyone to suddenly follow him, a coward who hid in the shadows of a dead planet for all that time? The Predacon Commander scoffed at the mere notion, while internally chiding himself at the same time for not taking Thunderwing out when he had the chance back on the Ultrax. It would be a mistake the lion-former would not repeat.

The carapace-encased mech wasted no time after declaring his claim on the throne and launched himself directly at Razorclaw, clawed hands outstretched and guns blazing. The Predacon lord reacted quickly and ducked down low, avoiding the electrostatic blasts as he waited for his adversary to draw closer. Then, as the warlord was about to tackle him, the lion-former leapt aside, allowing the scientist to fly right by him. Razorclaw did a tuck and roll, coming to a stop in a crouching position before aiming his ultra energon fueled shoulder-mounted concussion cannons and returning fire on Thunderwing. The Predacon lord hoped to find a weakness somewhere in his enemy’s carapace armor sooner rather than later.

Hangar - Rumblings of discontent
Crueljaw growled inwardly as he saw Thundercracker evade the launched Vehicon his optics narrowed as the arm cannons rotated. At the landing of the first few blasts from Thundercracker’s laser cannons Crueljaw raised his left arm up to protect his face from the blasts. His Plasma blade vanished and was placed within a locker as he dragged the acid rifle from his trip to earth out. But before he had a chance to unleash the weapon on his foe all kinds of yelling and hailing of Razorclaw started to ring out across the hangar.

“Ole one eye lost huh” muttered Crueljaw which was the only reason he could think off for the masses to be chanting for Razorclaw as he peered up at Thundercracker holding his hand palm flat towards him in a stop sign “you get lucky this time I don’t think our new commander wants his troopers fighting among themselves” the hulking warrior turned to view the new decepticon commander Razorclaw. But for all the commotion and chanting of Razorclaw’s name the bodyguard couldn’t help but think it was all about to go down the waste chute as another voice gave challenge.

Thunderwing

Hangar

And so that was it.

His great effort to help assist the mighty Shockwave and this is how he ends up?

He looked down at the flaming injuries that had taken out both of his legs and the mech that had left him weaponless--Onslaught. He'd heard the name before and he knew of his team. The Combaticons were a pretty ruthless group of soldiers by reputation. Their commander even more so.

He leaned back against the wall, allowing his internal repair mechanisms to do what work they could until he had time to get to a CR chamber. If he was allowed to.

He heard voices, yelling, but the tumult of blaster fire that had echoed throughout the hangar just a few short moments ago seemed to have all but vanished.

He poked his lumbering head around the edge of the wall to see what was going on.

Hangar

Onslaught had stood quietly behind the Predacon Commander, allowing him to have his moment of triumph. It was indeed well-earned and Onslaught had no desire to direct any of that attention towards himself. He and his unit had played the part that they had agreed to play and now they were on the verge of reaping those rewards.

But, of course, the question of leadership seemed to have not been fully resolved. Did Onslaught truly think that it would have been? Thunderwing's intentions were all but laid out during their brief meeting on Earth. And now he had put them into action. How many other Decepticons were quietly waiting to do the very same thing, regardless of how this confrontation played out?

Onslaught had deftly moved away from Razorclaw's position and allowed him the space to continue his battle--as well as to avoid any collateral fallout. Blast-Off had been the first to seek guidance from his commander about how to proceed next. Brawl and the others would surely have similar questions. Onslaught had to consider that very question for himself before he acted. He was no enemy nor rival of Thunderwing. But nor had he been of Shockwave. Not even Starscream, truth be told. When faced with the deafening absence of Megatron, he had simply come to the conclusion that Razorclaw was the better replacement. Nothing more or less. And nothing that had transpired within the last breem had done anything to change his mind in that regard.

Well, that was the only question then, wasn't it?

Shockwave's supporters had gone against Razorclaw's while the two vied for the throne. But there had been interference at every step. This was no honor duel for the throne. This was last Decepticon standing, it seemed. Now the same would be said of the Predacon and Thunderwing. Let the chips fall where they may. Whatever happened, it would not be said of Onslaught that his allegiances simply shifted with the whims of opportunity. There was still something to be said for loyalty.

"We protect our interests. The right hand of the throne...or tools in the hands of an absent aristocrat. Do you follow a gladiator who has fought for leadership or a scientist who feels himself entitled to it and seizes his opportunity? Make your choice, Combaticons. I've made mine," Onslaught said as he leveled his sonic stun gun at the Valckastan warlord and fired.

After coming this far, he would fight until the question of leadership was unquestionably resolved or until stasis or termination claimed him.

Hangar

That did it. Laying off and suppressing his urges had been frustrating enough for Tantrum but it served the purpose of creating unity amongst the opposing sides. Abandoning enmities, if grudgingly, cemented the leadership under which it was carried out. Razorclaw had achieved that goal just a few moments before. Everyone still functioning in the hangar bay had already pledged his loyalty to him, some very vocally, some with hesitation. But the victory of the Predacon Commander was incontestable. Then Thunderwing came, brandishing his self-aggrandizement like a flag and assaulted the victor. Tantrum needed nothing more.

The Predacons were a pack. With their very own, respective hierarchy outside the usual chain of command. You messed with one, you messed with all of them. Especially if the stakes were as high as overall command of a significant Decepticon contingent.

Tantrum grabbed his sword by the hilt and began yanking it out of the spot he had thrust it into. As he did so, his optics picked up the form of Onslaught and heard the distinctive boom-snap of his sonic stun gun as it opened fire at the Valckastan warlord. Good. The more that pompous, irritating slagger got in his face, the better. The fact that mechs were willing to stand up against the sorry-aft, aristocratic excuse for a Decepticon of their own volition and support Razorclaw was just a plus on the side.

The sword came free. Finally able to let loose his fury, a wild rage that turned his vision red again, Tantrum roared and charged at Thunderwing, slashing and chopping at him with his sword.

Hangar

With a cry and crash, the battle for the leadership of the Decepticons reignited. Except this time, it was another opportunist scientist that sought to overthrow the newly appointed Razorclaw. While Divebomb was not overtly fond of many of his fellow comrades, a pack mentality remained, and this was no honor-ridden bout like the overthrow of Shockwave had been. Shockwave had supporters that required a show of strength to be swayed. This...Thunderwing had even fewer than Shockwave. Maybe one? Two perhaps, but that was pushing it. Divebomb needed no further excuse.

Divebomb ripped his sword from its sheath, seeing that Tantrum - not surprisingly - and Onslaught - a little surprisingly - had already begun the attack. It seemed others shared his frame of mind. Razorclaw was indeed the new rightful leader of the Decepticons!

Adding his cry of fury into the mix, Divebomb charged at the Valckastan warlord, hacking and thrusting with his sword. Thunderwing would soon learn that to attack one Predacon meant to attack all of them.

Hangar Bay

Blast-Off listened as Onslaught spoke about protecting their interests regarding the throne and who in particular sat on it. It was clear that Razorclaw was the best option for the specialty teams as he was the head of such a unit, himself. Thunderwing, on the other hand, was an absentee warlord, a scientist who hid underground while others fought and died for the Decepticon cause. What exactly did he know about leading the Decepticons or just how important the elite fighting squads were in the grand scheme of the war? The carapace-clad mech had power only because he was surrounded by an armored shell that he had crafted for himself. Underneath, he was not unlike anyone else here in the hangar. He was hiding once again, only this time he hid in plain sight beneath a cowardly construct of his own design.

“Understood,” the space warrior replied as the Combaticon leader entered the fray in this new fight against the Valckastan warlord. Not surprisingly, Tantrum and Divebomb had also gone on the offensive in an effort to help the Predacon Commander. This fight for supremacy was quickly becoming one against many and not a simple duel between two mechs vying for leadership. Had Thunderwing truly thought this through before attacking Razorclaw or did he feel that his new carapace technology made him so powerful that he could take down multiple mechs at the same time? The answer to that question would soon reveal itself.

“My choice is the same as yours, Commander Onslaught,” Blast-Off decided as he took to the air again and transformed into his Boeing X-37B alt mode, deploying his X-ray weapon through the nosecone as he had done before. Instead of targeting more vehicons, his sights were quickly set on the armored scientist below. Wasting no further time, the space warrior unleashed a powerful laser blast directly at Thunderwing, hoping to pierce through that unholy carapace shell and give Razorclaw and the others a fighting chance.

Hangar

Shadowing made his way to Shockwave and removed the materials that had fallen around him. He was certainly no medic but he had learned enough over the years to at least diagnose if someone was about to expire or not and apply the necessary patches to prevent all the energon from leaking out. He did no silently and with no show of emotion. At this point it was all force of habit. Yet another cause he served was falling apart all around him and concentrating on his duty was about all he could do at the moment. He turned his head up and looked around for some help which he spotted.

"Wierdwolf, Skullcruncher. Come here and help me get Shockwave to the repair bay." He said calmly.

Main Engineering

"Pin the traitor down," the engineering chief bellowed as the three remaining soldiers flanked towards the left access ramp in an attempt to isolate the command consoles. It was not a creative tactic, but it had its moments of efficacy. Their main concern was not necessity to kill the usurper, no all the engineers needed to do was to regain access to the main computers and then isolate all who were against Shockwave. Eventually overriding the bounce controls and transporting every one who their commander deemed necessary into the cold vastness of space, or the fiery inferno of the local stellar body.

Such a tactic was not without its flaws. Particularly given Vortex was under the direct command of the Decepticon who had practically made a basic flanking assault into an extravagant mosaic of destruction and carnage. Vortex drew his cyclone gun from his hip holster and aimed it straight towards the ramp leading towards the command deck. A swift pivot into the line of fire was all he needed. Two bursts of depleted Neutronium Bullet Shells panged against his armor, but he ignored the stinging pain. He pulled the trigger and sent a concentrated funnel of air straight into the three vehicons. The concussive burst drove them back into the rails and then over into one of the large active pistons... and a few micro seconds later, their sparks were no more.

The chief engineer tried to take advantage of the opportunity provided by the death of his subordinates. He drew a large wrench from one of the work tables and charged the interrogator. Vortex was not easily caught unawares. His left hand reached around in a fluid motion and took hold of one of the handles of his rotor. A flick of his wrist and the blade struck the wrench dead center sending a vibration through his arm, he could only imagine the shock that was reverberating in the processor of the engineering chief.

His cyclone gun clacked to the magnetic holster on his hip. Vortex raised his right index finger and shook it in disappointment. "Tisk tisk, and here I thought old one optic employed smarter mechanisms." He pushed the two weapons back and drew his own blade back into a crescent arch. Then at the furthest end of his swing he brought it back straight across the wrist of the stunned engineer, severing the limb. In the continuation of the motion he tore through the knees, surrendering his opponent to the oppression of artificial gravity.

Vortex returned his blade to the clips on his back and allowed the internal servos to connect it with the primary assemblies. He then knelt down to the severely wounded engineer and drove two fingers into the mechanism's chest. The screams of pain and agony were a symphony to his receptors as his thumb and forefinger dug deeper into the chief's body. Soon they found their target, and a slow and agonizingly dreadful tug tore the communication's link free of the internal systems and eventually the body.

He slapped the chip against the forehead of the chief engineer in order to snap the mech out of its shock and potential coma. "Now then, lets be a bit more friendly. We are after all both Decepticons." His tone of voice softened. "Tell me the operational patch codes for the ship's computer core. If you do, I will make sure you are returned to a CR Chamber as soon as I am able."

The engineering chief coughed and spat a wad of loosed energon towards the floor. "And if I refuse to betray the new Emperor?"

"Then I can make sure you have eternal function, never knowing mercy, never feeling safe," his features were drowned by the darkness of the shadows created by a damaged panel that hung loose from the ceiling. "You will beg for extermination. Do I make my self clear?" Each word of the final sentenced punctuated for added effect. The gulp of his prey was the tell he needed, his warning was received now all he needed was to put faith in his reputation. Though part of him relished a straight refusal.

Hangar

Weirdwolf was totally unfazed as Thunderwing issued his challenge and crashed into Razorclaw. This set several others into action, most of Razorclaw's supporters all converging on the would-be usurper. The tracker was not an avid enough supporter of the newly endowed emperor to jump into the fray himself. It did leave him wondering if the battle for the throne would continue until all of the prospective candidates were lying in broken heaps. Letting out a sigh as he shook his head, Weirdwolf turned his optics away from the struggle.

The tracker heard his name called and turned toward the source. Shadowing. Shockwave's assistant. Weirdwolf walked over to Shockwave's incapacitated form and his assistant, kneeling down to look over the fallen imperator. He was in dire need of medical attention, but Shadowing no doubt knew that, so he said nothing. Weirdwolf shifted over to position himself to pick up Shockwave's legs, while glancing over his shoulder for his much larger comrade.

"The legs I have, Skullcruncher," he said to his friend while readying his grip on Shockwave's legs.

Thanatos--Hangar

Sighing heavily, Skullcruncher knelt down to take hold of Shockwave's upper body. He could have easily carried the cycloptic mech on his own but truth to be told, he didn't even want to. Thunderwing had challenged Razorclaw immediately upon the Shockwave's defeat in the hands of the Predacon commander. Shockwave would survive, that Skullcruncher did not doubt. But having to carry him away now robbed him the chance to witness the showdown between Thunderwing and Razorclaw - a fight he really couldn't predict a winner for.

He had seen both mechs in action. Thunderwing's shell alone hadn't been convincing enough in the tunnels under Cybertron's surface for Skullcruncher to pick the scientist as a winner over Razorclaw's incredible amount of sheer fighting skills. Both were running on ultra energon, Thunderwing however was fresh from recharge and had not seen combat yet. If Razorclaw was not going to be able to finish this quickly, Thunderwing did have the advantage in attrition.

"Hnn. I'd rather stay to see how this all will pan out." The large Decepticon grunted and did his share of the lifting, his optics still focused elsewhere. "Is his state really that urgent?"



How the slag they dare - was the first thing on Brawl's mind when Thunderwing assaulted Razorclaw. Given how quickly Onslaught reacted, Brawl felt liberated. He was allowed to shoot people again. Too bad he had no way of taking a clear shot at Thunderwing without risking some major friendly fire incident. Those who had arrived with the long gone scientist, now they were different issue altogether.

Guns primed for action, Brawl aimed his considerable number of weapons at Blackwind and those who were unfortunate enough to stand close to her.

"Power down your weapon systems toots or I will turn your pretty hide into burning husk of slag!"

Thanatos - Hangar

Shadowing looked towards Skullcruncher. It dawned on him that the Decepticon caused had fallen far, indeed, for a soldier like Skullcruncher to question orders.

"Perhaps you are not aware, Skullcruncher, but Shockwave is partially fueled by a nuclear reactor in his torso." Shadowing explained calmly. "Razorclaw was kind enough to miss Shockwave's spark but if his attack caused any sort of damage or worse, a containment breach, it might cause all of this to be rendered pointless in the resulting explosion."

He walked alongside Shockwave's torso as the other two carried him.

"It would be suicidal to keep such a potentially sensitive situation so close to combat. Once Shockwave is secure you may return to watch what unfolds."

Thanatos - Hangar

Crueljaw saw Weirdwolf and Skullcruncher attempting to help Shockwave but also noted a reluctance on Skullcruncher’s part. The former bodyguard knew it was shockwaves orders that got him freed from the chambers. Striding forward he slammed stunned Vehicons aside to get to the fallen commanders side looking at Shadowing and then to Weirdwolf he spoke “I’ll help you move the boss Skullcruncher will probably want to get a good seat for the Thunderwing and Razorclaw fight”

Crueljaw moved around to Shockwaves upper torso and slid his powerful arms under his commanding officer’s he prepared to lift. “whenever you’re ready Weirdwolf cause it’s about to get messy up in here and quick” Crueljaw made a mental note to erase all the useless human dialect that his comm unit picked up while he was stationed for the brief period on earth as he started to gently lift the injured commander.

Thanatos--Hangar

Landgrab was suitably awed by the fact that even as Shockwave had fallen, the battle continued on. Landgrab was truly enthralled. The idea of fighting for something like leadership of the Decepticons, with the stakes being as high as they were--could they get any higher? The thought alone almost sent the large, obedient mech into circuit shock. Never in any millenia would he consider doing what the likes of Shockwave, Starscream and now Razorclaw and Thunderwing were doing.

Seeing the others appeared to be gathering up the fallen cyclops, Landgrab moved to proved them some cover from any ancillary damage that could come their way.

All while keeping a peripheral optic on the fight itself.

"Together again, eh?" Landgrab said, looking back at Crueljaw.

Hangar

Dead End was in pain. Why was he in pain? He was... lying on his back, if the static-infused visual feeds were anything to be trusted. What he could make out was a colorless chamber that had a sense of a wideness and abundant space to it. But where was it? How did he get there and why was he lying on his back?

Clanging, fizzing and snapping noises rang violently in his vox pickup unit. All seemed distant, as if they came through a thick layer of liquid. Was... was something going on?

Diagnostics flashed in his HUD. Damage percentages, operational status coefficients, alarm signs. Most were yellow and red. The numerical values were low. Very low. They flickered relentlessly, disallowing Dead End's attention to swim anywhere else. Maybe they were connected to the pain he felt?

The surface receptors of his torso registered warmth. Slowly spreading out across his midsection, but quickly dissipating. What could it be? His internal scanner was unable to determine.

He attempted to bring a manual actuator up and get a measure of the sensation through touch. Any motion he made was punished by more pain. He decided it didn't matter. Neck deep in pain anyway, what could a little more do?

Then he realized feeling pain was a sign of being alive. A notion he had learned to attach to pain over the long vorns of continuously suffering beatings from that wretch of a squad leader called Motormaster.

Motormaster... there was something Motormaster and he were doing before the pain. What was it?

His digits slipped on something oily as they touched his chest section and slid into ripped, torn metal. A gash. A deep gash on his midriff, oozing fluid. That was the warmth. His life bleeding away. How... fitting. The slow, inevitable end of all things.

He remembered.

Shockwave. He had done this. A fist through the chest. Clean, efficient, brutal, scales classier than what Motormaster usually brought to the fold. Dead End would have felt awed, if it hadn't been so pathetic. Even charged with Ore 13, he had been removed from equation of that sparkless, walking calculator in less than a pumpbeat.

They were all doomed to failure, nothing could ever change that.

No... not like this..., he thought in desperation. He was a wreck. A mussed up, broken mess. At least, let him have the sole satisfaction of departing in style and with grace from a function cycle fated to misery. He growled in pain and anger.

A pool of his own fluid began to expand on the caved in floor under his chassis.

Dead End commenced the long and arduous process of leaking to death in the hangar of the Thanatos.

Hangar

Normally Shadowing would have reacted harshly to this seeming inability for Decepticons to follow basic orders but he just did not care at this moment.

"Alright. Lets go. Be careful as we move. I will keep my sensors alert in case the damage to his torso unit is worse than I think."

Hangar

Breakdown could still hear the sounds of battle. It hadn't been as overwhelming as it had been, but it was still there--meaning there was still danger present. But Motormaster was in the room, so danger was always present. He and Dead End had been separated in the melee early on and the whole thing had quickly become every Stunticon for himself. But it was more or less like that any other day, too, so why worry now? Even as he thought about those who were with him here and now, his thoughts drifted towards Drag Strip and Wildrider. Boy were they gonna catch some slag for missing this, even if it was exactly what Motormaster had told them to do. He wondered where they were now, grousing over the fact that they were probably out having a blast while he had been here fighting.

Somehow or another, the Stunticon had found himself flung over into a farther corner of the hangar, piled under some other Vehicon trash. Shoving one of them off his upper torso, he could see another one crawling towards him and reaching for his leg. It had just started to get its little droney fingers around him when he reacted violently.

"Get off me!" Breakdown grunted, kicking the thing in the head so hard its neck bent sideways and sparks began spewing from its facial visor. Breakdown pushed himself a meter or so further back and and huffed.

No sooner had he begun to get his bearings than his telltale paranoia began to creep back into to his thoughts. Where was Motormaster? And Dead End? His optics began to scan the battlefield that the hangar had become, and still was, but he couldn't immediately find what he was looking for--ah, wait. Lying in a pool of his own internal fluids. Who else?

Breakdown began to crawl towards his fellow Stunter.

((OOC: Permission was granted))

Hangar

While both Starscream and Soundwave tussled in the air, each trading hard blows, Starscream finally gained a slight upper hand. The Seeker Commander was able to wrest one hand free from the Communications Officer’s grip and sent a solid right hook to Soundwave’s masked face.

The punch loosened the blue officer’s grip and gave Starscream the opportunity to remove himself completely from his advisory’s grasp. Soundwave landed hard on his shoulder, but even after his jarring fall Megatron’s third wasn’t finished yet.

Shaking the effects of his fall off, Soundwave stared his opposite down when Starscream finally landed. The Seeker sent a smug grin in his direction prompting both to advance on the other. But before the former second could reach his opponent Soundwave sent a metal crunching side kick to his midsection.

The move threw Starscream back hard nearly knocking him off his feet. But the move would work out in the Seeker’s favor as he was able to recover only seconds faster than his attacker. Raising his arm mounted lasers; Starscream caught sight of Soundwave’s visor, the reflection of himself clear in the red glass. “A commendable effort. Really it was. But I’m in no mood to prolong this any further.” He said with a slight smirk and fired off several rounds with his null rays knocking Soundwave out for the count.

****

Nightraven’s triumph over Rumble’s attack was short lived as Ratbat had swooped in to make a nuance of himself. The cassettecon seemed to be good at that both on Cybertron and now here. The Seeker swatted and fired off several rounds at him before he was finally able to make it in close enough to her.

“Ahhhhh!” Nightraven let out a cry as Ratbat plunged his sharp fangs directly into the main fuel line running down the side of her neck. She raised her hand jerkily trying to grab a hold of the creature but was unable to raise the appendage high enough to grab a solid hold of him.

Slowly Nightraven lowered to her knees as her fuel reserves were drained. With one final attempt she raised her hand and, this time, clamped onto Ratbat’s leg and yanked as hard as possible. The maneuver worked and sent the small parasite into the air, but he was able to recover and took to the air high and out of reach.

Her actions worked but they weren’t without their consequences. Pulling Ratbat from her neck with his fangs still attached only caused the small puncture wounds to tear and grow into two larger holes. Nightraven quickly drew up both hands trying to cover and stop the flow. “I…really hate…him.” She mumbled while she clutched tighter and looked around to make sure he wasn’t heading back in her direction. Once she was sure she was safe she looked for someone else. “Skywarp. Help.” She called out to the teleporter with one energon soaked hand extended.

****

With considerable interest Blackwind had watched everything that had and was transpiring within the hangar. The fall of Shockwave was rather amusing, and inevitable. If you had asked her he deserved to be taken down a notch…or a thousand. That thought brought a microscopic smile to her face.

As everything moved along Blackwind crossed her arms and waited. It wasn’t long until Thunderwing had finally made his move. The smile on her face grew exponentially as she lowered her arms and prepared to move in closer.

Her advance was halted, however, by the burly voice of Brawl, who seemed to believe he could, in some strange way, stop her. Blackwind stopped and cast a scathing glance in the tank’s direction. “You wouldn’t even get that far, cretin. However, I’m much more interested in watching the proceedings than killing you.” The carapace laden femme gestured toward Razorclaw and Thunderwing already poised to do battle.

“What say we take positions in the front row? I’m sure we’ll both enjoy the show.” Blackwind flashed Brawl a charming smile as she motioned toward the two combatants.

Hangar

Weirdwolf lifted up the former commander, digesting the information from Shadowing. He did not care who it was that helped him carry Shockwave as long as they got him to the medical bay without an incident. The tracker nodded to Skullcruncher as he passed by.

"Should the fight an interesting direction go, let me know," Weirdwolf said.

Taking caution as they began to move, Weirdwolf glanced at Crueljaw. This one was unfamiliar to him. It didn't matter. He looked down at the wound in Shockwave's torso, working to keep that area as stable as possible during transit.