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If the Ultrax reflects the personality of the Stunticons, the Obliteration does the same with the Combaticons. Primed for combat and kept in top military form, the Obliteration serves as perfect example of the perfectionism of the Combaticon unit commander Onslaught. Notorious for its efficiency and due to the reputation of the Decepticons that call it their home, this frigate is bad news for everyone not carrying Decepticon banner.


Armory

Brawl was a simple mechanoid. A good brawl or a large explosion was all that he needed to keep his spirits up. None of that was in his sights as he recounted the ordnance stored in the Obliteration's armory for the fourth time since they had been shared the ill news from planet Earth of the Sol system. Mighty Megatron had fallen. The mere thought was preposterous. Brawl had been there from the beginning. He had seen Megatron's rise from a reject into the grand champion of the arenas. He had witnessed Megatron turning the underground gladiatorial circuit into a rebellion against the corruption plagued status quo of Cybertron. And now that stuck up one eyed walking computer was telling him that the most stable character in Brawl's life was gone? Slag Shockwave to hell. If it wasn't for Onslaught's presence back then, Brawl would have crammed a sonic detonator through Shockwave's lone optic. Or died trying.

Instead, here he was, standing in the armory, indexing the various weapon systems stored there for the Combaticons to use in their missions across the galaxy. And even if his biggest idol had been taken away from him, Megatron's legacy was still there. The only other stable element in Brawl's life was still there. War.

And as the Obliteration took its exit from the hyperspace, the warmongering Combaticon could feel the anticipation growing within his spark. For from this moment onward, it was only a matter of time he would be unleashed. And whether the victims were Cybertronians or the flesh creatures inhabiting this solar system, Brawl would enjoy extinguishing their feeble lives.

Bridge

Swindle remained at his console, trying to remain professional, or at least look like he was. The move from Cybertron to Earth wasn't really a major deal, Swindle wasn't hung up on the scenery. Unlike Brawl, Swindle tended to look forward rather than backward. No memories of glories past for him, only future profits, and future problems.

Did we ever really need Megatron? Sure he was a big guy, and tough, but once he started the revolution all the guys like Scorponok and Shockwave came out of the metalwork. Swindle mused on things as he checked the sensors to get a better idea of his own situation, and by extension the Combaticons. They would have done the same if anyone showed up, and now that he's gone, one of them can easily replace him. The location of the Ultrax could be deduced without too much hassle, although tracing any Decepticons off the ship would take longer. The problem is which one...We can't join anyone until we know who's gonna win. Getting information from the Ultrax and Thanatos would speed things up considerably, but then, given Onslaughts usual approach to planning, they'd probably be up here a while, figuring everything out. Which is why Onslaughts the best commander to have. He won't send us into the fray until he's sure his pan is perfect.

Swindle turned to look at Onslaught deep in thought at the command chair. He wondered if giving counsel would be appropriate. In the past, Onslaught had listened to Swindles arguments about as often as he'd threatened to charge the Munitions Specialist with insubordination. What was the best approach now? What was really going on behind that faceplate? Swindle looked Onslaught over, trying to read him, waiting for the right moment to speak up.

Vortex's Quarters

"Squeel your pistons all you want little Autobot." Vortex chuckled to himself in a more mocking tone to the situation rather than a serious taunt to an enemy. Slowly he peeled back the inner most titanium membrane to the drone he had selected for his practice. The action revealed the tactile sensory network to the drone's body. It was a simple matter to by pass the secured nodes in the circuit that controlled its activation and deactivation. What was the purpose of interrogation if the subject could not enjoy every single piece of the whole activity?

The Combaticon picked up a small laser drill from a tray of tools he had set up just before he had reactivated his subject. Best to leave such things for surprises, it helped the crispness of the anxiety that would arise upon its presentation.

He flicked the switch to the device and slowly, tauntingly and deliberately, he pushed the drill towards the left optical nexus. He pressed the tip of the drill on the cord that connected the optic to the sensory intake. Slowly he began to make his cut, a sneer of temporary satisfaction crossed his lips and... and... the communications terminal chimed with a summons by the unit commander.

Vortex let his arm slump, gashing a savage scar across the drone's face plate. Abandoning his practice session for a later time, Vortex departed his quarters with a grumble.

Bridge

Still mumbling about the untimely interuption, Vortex stepped through the large blast doors that seperated the bridge from the rest of the ship. He stepped over towards an empty utility console chair and sat down, his arms folded across his broad chest. "I trust this is important. I was just in the middle of my fifth experimental simulation, such procedures are delicate at best and still fairly unrefined. Though I am working to correct its current unsatisfactory results."

Bridge

As the Obliteration exited hyperspace, Blast-Off felt a sense of relief, as well as pride, that they had arrived to their destination without any problems. I’d like to see Vortex say something about my piloting skills now, the space warrior thought as he brought the Combaticon frigate alongside the Thanatos on the dark side of Earth’s moon. He quickly detected the launch of a communications satellite from the larger Predacon warship and immediately surmised it’s intended purpose. Passing a signal through a dead planetoid would be an exercise in futility and Razorclaw knew it. It was very wise to set up an array on the horizon to allow for transmissions to be sent between here and the mudball called Earth.

Ignoring the arrival of Vortex and his subsequent comments, Blast-Off turned in his chair to face the Combaticon Commander. As he did, the space warrior noticed that Swindle seemed to have something on his mind, but was waiting for the right moment to speak or perhaps the munitions expert was waiting for something else. Either way, Blast-Off didn’t have the patience to just sit around and twiddle his actuators.

“Commander,” the space warrior addressed Onslaught. “I’ve brought the ship into a stationary orbit next to the Thanatos. The Predacons have already set up a communications relay to aid in sending transmissions around the moon. However, from here it will be difficult to scan for the locations of Scrapper, Motormaster or Starscream as you had previously ordered. I could attempt to bounce a scan off of the satellite, but I’m afraid that may not give us the desired results. Ultimately, we will likely have to move around the moon and get closer to the planet in order to achieve an accurate lock on their whereabouts.”

Bridge

Swindle turns back to his console as Onslaught gives his orders. Well, he certainly seems confident. That might be a good sign... The Munitions Specialist begins to look over the comms signals they are recieving, scattered as they are. He was hardly Soundwave, but he knew a few tricks for getting messages through in tough circumstances.

"Hey, Blast-Off, why use one satellite when you can use several? With our ships computers and the two of us, we should be able to bounce off several satellites and triangulate the signals of the other groups that way. It would mean weaker returns, but hey, it'd be stealthier, less chance of someone unintended getting the message. Heck, if you set up staggered signals going through a cycle of bounce locations, we can make the scan damn near undetectable?"

"You up for it, Ace of Space?"

Bridge

Blast-Off nodded to Onslaught once he was given the go ahead to bounce his scan off of the Predacon communications satellite. “Understood, Commander,” the space warrior stated simply before returning his attention to his console where he quickly began the task at hand. It may not have been some grandiose mission to battle the Autobots on the front lines, but it was an important responsibility nevertheless. While Blast-Off may not know the exact reasoning behind his commander’s desire to ascertain the locations of the other unit leaders, he did know that it was likely due to the current circumstances they all found themselves in. Surely, Onslaught and likely Razorclaw, as well, had plans of their own given the recent coup attempt back on Cybertron. Whatever it was, the successfulness of these scans was only the first step in what would hopefully lead to the Combaticons taking on a primary role in the future of the Empire.

It was Swindle’s voice that broke his concentration, forcing Blast-Off to listen to the munitions expert’s suggestions regarding the satellites. The space warrior had made it no secret that he wasn’t particularly fond of Swindle as the greedy mech cared more about his own profits then the betterment of the Combaticons or even the Empire as a whole. Still, the arms dealer had his usefulness and his apparent knowledge of making signals or scans untraceable would come in handy right about now. So, why not exploit Swindle's talents the way he would another mech's abilities or weaknesses?

“I’m up for anything, Swindle,” Blast-Off responded as he glanced over at the yellow mech. “And, actually, while my initial plan was to bounce my scans off of the Predacon communications satellite in order to redirect them around this moon and towards Earth, I was then going to use the humans’ own system of satellites to spread my scans further around that mudball of a planet. It would be the only way to reach the other side of the globe, after all. Your idea of staggering the signals is a good one, and I will attempt to do that. Thank you for the suggestion. Of course, if you would also like to further assist me with my endeavor that would be greatly....appreciated.” The space warrior choked back those last few words as if they were tainted oil going down his esophageal pipe. It wasn’t that he didn’t really appreciate the help from the munitions expert, he just hated to admit it openly.

Returning his optics back to his console, Blast-Off punched a few keys and initiated the necessary scans that would hopefully deliver to him the desired results that Onslaught needed. The signal traveled to the Predacon satellite first and was then successfully redirected towards Earth. Now came the hard part as bouncing the scans off of the numerous Earthen orbital devices would be a painstaking task to say the least and keeping them hidden from prying optics would be even more difficult. Blast-Off was capable of doing it on his own, but it would be much quicker and easier with another mech’s help. “Okay, Swindle, I’ve got the scans initiated, and I’ve begun bouncing them through the humans’ own satellite grid. Now, if you don’t mind working your magic, as well, maybe we can get this done sooner rather than later.”

Bridge

"Its not magic, Blast Off. Its just a skill I've picked up." Swindle sets to work decoding the various transmissions, and sends the results to Onslaughts console. It seems simple enough, the primitive satellites of the humans don't present too much trouble for him. But still, something was off...

"Erm, I'm searching, sir, there aren't as many signals as I was expecting...The Stunticons are definite, got an exact fix, and I also see a large group of Seekers engaging Autobots in the Middle Eastern region of Eurasia....But the Constructicons aren't showing up."

He turns in his seat to face his commander, his expression grave. "Sir, if they were on the planet this ship should be able to find them, even with all the interference. I can only suspect from this that they are being screened somehow, either with an active cloak, or by having someone mask their signals. No ordinary mech would be able to do that, you'd need a specialist like Soundwave or the Autobot Blaster. So either they're in hiding, they've left the system, or someone doesn't want us to find them."

Intrigue? In a situation like this? What a surprise.