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Corridors

The promise of power to destroy Motormaster alone was enough to entice Drag Strip to follow Rodimus. Clearly there was much more to him then met the optic, but just how much more was something even the former racer could not have anticipated. When the Battlechargers and Octane arrived to attack the supposed Autobot invader, Drag’s ascension was put on hold, but the subsequent show of brute force from the flame-covered mech was well worth the wait. Runabout’s hand was torn from his arm while his brother was knocked right into stasis with a single backhand. The remaining Battlecharger was then beaten senseless, his optic shattered, and viciously kicked in the cranium and propelled across the floor where he collided with his downed twin.

Finally, it was Octane’s turn as the triplechanger tried to burn Rodimus with his flamethrowers only to have the fire deflected right back at him. This display of power was more like magic than the physical punishment that the two Battlechargers had just received. The fiery mech seemed to control the flames with sheer willpower, leaving Drag Strip in utter awe of his soon-to-be master. Watching the greedy fueler become consumed within his own inferno brought great joy to the former racer as the triplechanger was well known for being a bully that hoarded energon and made others beg for a mere drop. Now, Octane had gotten what he so richly deserved and soon the rest of them would receive the same treatment.

Once the three Decepticons were dealt with, Drag Strip’s optics returned to those of Rodimus as the Prime took his hand and whispered to him. The words entered his audio receptors and infiltrated his processor, making Drag feel at ease with what was about to happen. “I am yours,” the yellow Stunticon whispered back as the flame-covered mech placed one hand over his chest plate. The former racer relaxed and allowed the process to happen. He felt the pain of Rodimus’ hand as it entered into his chest cavity and finally found its way into his very spark chamber. For a brief moment, Drag was reminded of what Hex had once done to him, but before fear could return there was darkness and the pain was gone.
_________

A short time later, Drag Strip’s optics on-lined again and he found himself lying at the feet of Rodimus Prime, his new master. The former Stunticon picked himself up off the floor, feeling the additional power coursing through his circuitry. He was stronger and especially much faster than ever before. There was no race he could not win now. Even Blurr would loose to his speed and agility while Smokescreen would be the one to eat his own smoke from here on out. Drag was truly the greatest racer of them all, and he owed everything to the mech standing over him.

“My Master,” Drag Strip uttered as he stood and bowed his head before the might of Rodimus Prime. “I see so much more clearly now. The Cybertronians are a disease and we are the cure. Thank you for showing me the way past their meager existence. Thank you for freeing my very spark from the prison of my prior life.” The yellow herald looked back up into the optics of his fiery master and offered a toothy grin. “I cannot wait to make them all suffer for their insolence. Let us begin, Master, let us begin!”

Corridors

The nuisance that had arrived in the form of the Battlechargers and the Decepticon fueler was dealt with in a matter of mere moments sending a sinister sense of satisfaction running through the Prime’s frame. The shear force with which he dispatched the three Cybertronians was enough to convince his intended herald to take his rightful place amongst the chosen ones.

Drag Strip’s conversion took less time and energy compared to his Brother Darkride only because the process wasn't forced on the former racer. Rodimus watched as the body of the yellow Stunticon collapsed to the floor in a heap. A satisfied smile worked its way onto his visage while he stood guard over his newest acquisition.

The wait was not long. Drag Strip’s optics soon on-lined drawing the prime’s attention but yet he made no attempt to address him nor did he lend Drag Strip a hand back up onto his feet. Instead his simply waited and watched. The former Decepticon wasted no time in getting up and swearing his intentions to do whatever it would take to eliminate the Cybertronian race from existence. A pledge that brought a pleased smile to the flame-emblazoned mech’s face.

“You will get your chance, my herald. The Cybertronian race will soon be eradicated from this universe and there is nothing they can do to stop it. It is inevitable. Their future has already been written and its title is genocide!”

Rodimus placed a hand gently on Drag Strip’s shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze.

“Yes. Let us begin. Your brothers await us.”

The possessed Autobot stepped in close to his chosen and in a flash of brilliant light both mechs were gone.

Mess Hall

It was strange, Skywarp taking such an interest in what was going on with Nightraven. The prankster was never one to bother with how others felt, so when his good friend suddenly got up and excused himself in order to find out what was bothering the femme, Thundercracker was tempted to question him. However, he really never got that chance as Skywarp returned to their table and took his seat again.

The blue Seeker quirked a brow at Skywarp’s half-hearted explanation but didn’t bother to push the subject. While ‘Warp seemed to settle back into his more usual routine Thundercracker leaned back in his chair and took a small sip of the sludge that was congealing in his own glass. The foul concoction nearly had him doubling over and purging but he was able to control the urge actually spitting the derivative out and over the table top.

“Ugh! Disgusting! It’s no wonder the Stunticons are so detestable! It’s in their fuel!”

Thundercracker let out a low chuckle as he chucked the glass over his shoulder letting the projectile shatter into tiny pieces when it hit the back wall. His attention was quickly drawn back to his fellow Seeker when a slew of questions were shot out by the teleporter…and each one pertained to what he had been doing while stationed on Earth. ‘Cracker let out a sigh before placing his chin in his hand and contemplated on just where to start. When he finally decided on the best subject to address first ‘Warp announced that he had been summoned to the bounce chamber by none other than Starscream. And before he could even wish his brother well Skywarp was out the door and well on his way.

“Heh. Well how do ya like that.”

With nothing else keeping him tied down to his current nauseating locale, ‘Cracker took his leave. He had made it so far as the outer corridor when he nearly knocked over Dirge. The blue and gold Coneheaded Seeker sent Thundercracker a low growl as he straightened his stance giving off an air of superiority. ‘Cracker took a fleeting glance at the fear monger and simply stepped around him ready to continue his trek.

“Don’t bother, Dirge. You wanna intimidate someone go find a mirror and let loose.”

Dirge twisted at the waist and called back to the other blue Seeker.

“Just what’s your problem? Have a little lovers quarrel with your buddy?”

Perfect. Not even three total breems and already he was in a face off with a pain in the aft. Thundercracker took a long look over his shoulder but said nothing in return to the other Seeker. It just wasn't worth it.

Crew Quarters

He had made the decision to take a leisurely walk through the ship…as best he could of course…and finally ended his impromptu tour at the crew quarters. Thundercracker finished entering the security code to the room he shared with Skywarp when he heard the announcement from Oil Slick. Autobots? Can’t be. How could they even find us? Still….

A wicked smirk formed on his face as he turned around and, once again, nearly slammed directly into Dirge.

“Come on, Dirge! We've got some Autobot encroachers to vacate!”

Thundercracker shoved past the blue and gold Seeker on his way to the nearest air lock leaving Dirge to wonder just what he might have missed. But instead of asking question he decided to just follow suit and get to the mangling.

Both Seekers quickly exited the air lock and ignited their thrusters providing them with the momentum they needed to break the surface of the water, transform and head toward shore where their targets would be waiting.

Corridors

To an onlooker, the Ultrax was an abandoned ship. Completely derelict. No soul unlucky enough to stay behind. But that is where that onlooker would be wrong, for a small green wasp was making its way to the Bounce Chamber, completely avoiding cameras with ease due to its small size, not that it was necessary. It was Waspinator, and he was on a mission that he wasn't all too sure of his abilities in: Calibrating the Bounce Pad.

Turning a corner, Waspinator suddenly came upon another Transformer: Octane. Waspinator was prepared to flee, knowing the thuggish nature of the triplechanger, but Octane was offline. He could heal him, for needless to say, he could use a hand on the Bounce Chamber... Eh. Later. He could manage for now, and he didn't want to wake a sleeping dog.

Pressing onward, Waspinator finally made it to the Bounce Chamber.

Bounce Chamber

The tiny wasp landed on the ground, and seconds later, a robot stood where his tiny alternate form was. Moving to the console, Waspinator began to type furiously on the keys, doing his best in order to calibrate the Bounce Pad.

This was going to take a while.

Bounce Chamber

Waspinator, besides numerous failures, had finally a bit of success. The screen on the console displayed instructions on how to calibrate it. Waspinator was thankful for this; calibration of Bounce Pads wasn't exactly his profession.

Typing furiously on the keyboard, the Insecticon watched the graphs and simulations, most of which meant nothing to him, until they gained a green corona around the graphs borders. One by one, the graphs lit up green. It wouldn't be long until the Bounce Pad would be calibrated.

Bounce Chamber

Waspinator was no technician, scientist or anyone qualified for the task of calibrating the Bounce Pad, but thankfully for the Insecticon, he managed to light up the terminal, and with it, the Bounce Pad. Seeing as no one was around -- even the multitude of Vehicons were offline -- Waspinator decided to do a quick "Victory Dance" by spinning on his right foot, then planting his other foot back down to the floor after doing a complete spin and throwing his first digit up into the air simultaneously.

>>Ram-Bot, Wazzpinator bringzz Bounzze Pad online! It izz online!<< Waspinator cried out through the comm link, nearly jumping for joy.

He couldn't believe it. He actually did something right for a change.

Skies

Astrotrain had completed a series of scan protocols to ensure that there were no native naval vehicles in the area where he wanted to begin his descent toward the Ultrax. He and Blitzwing had made the journey with their usual level of efficiency. Just having the chance to strike out on their own, even if it was to somehow assist Ramjet in the process, felt good. No more hauling Constructicon garbage for a while. Astrotrain was more than pleased to leave that to Long Haul. He had better things to do.

The scans all came back negative, as he'd hoped, and Astrotrain angled downward, his shuttle mode crashing through the surface of the ocean and initiating his transformation sequence underwater in order to more smoothly facilitate the remainder of his descent.

>>"Astrotrain to Ultrax. Requesting permission to come aboard. We're coming at the behest of....Ramjet. Do you acknowledge, Ultrax?"<<

He looked over at Blitzwing as he too descended through the blue, saline-infested waters toward the ship below.

"If noone's home, I say we make ourselves comfortable. See what can be salvaged. Who knows, might be something of interest that we can use as leverage with that Combaticon runt."

Skies

“Yeah, that's right,” Blitzwing said. “The sooner we're off that swine's debt list the better.”

Swine. Swindle. The two words sounded similar enough in pronunciation. And upon closer inspection, they even appeared to look alike up until the last couple of letters. Swindle the swine: a perfect match.

Anyway. Moving on to more vital matters now.

What exactly was favourable about Ramjet's supposed plan? In fact, what kind of a plan did he have? He shared not its details—offering only fragments of a scheme that barely existed at all.

In the beginning, Blitzwing thought Ramjet had something going on, something interesting, but not anymore. Approval surrendered to suspicion once again, sending him back to square one, back to allowing his wariness to play a significant role in his judgement.

As Blitzwing followed Astrotrain, first through the sky then through the sea's shifting surface to the Ultrax below, he brooded over the possibilities of Ramjet's plan. Then the risks. Then the trouble he and Astrotrain could find themselves in. Then everything that could fail spectacularly for whatever reason, which probably would happen.

Yikes.

Step aside, Dead End, for the true inheritor of the pessimistic crown belonged to Blitzwing, master of misery.

The Seeker's plan must have been terrible if his core processor was cluttered with as much negativity as Dead End's. Not good.

Message from Swindle

>>”Hey, Astrotrain, Blitzwing, how’s it going down there? Just wanted to let you know things are crazy up here, but I just might have found a way for us to get some more goodies and, you know, more goodies means more profit. We will be living the high life gentlemechs, just hang in there a little longer.”<<

Kurile Trench--Descending

>>"Copy that, Swindle. Securing our position aboard the Ultrax now. Hopefully we'll secure Octane as well while we're down here."<<

Astrotrain had waited...and waited...but no satisfactory response had come from the Ultrax. Oh well, what the slag was he waiting for anyway? A welcome mat and an invitation. Frag that. He was coming in one way or the other.

The easy way, of course, was to simply use the bounce codes provided by Ramjet in order to get aboard. He probably could have looked them up himself but that would've taken forever. Finding the right set of codes, Astrotrain activated the bounce protocols from his position thereby allowing he and Blitzwing to be transported aboard without letting in a sea of this putrid, saline-rich hydrogen compound that they seemed so keen to hide beneath on this mudball of a planet.

"--totally agreed, Blitz," Astrotrain finished saying as he and the other triple-changer appeared within the bounce chamber. One other mech was there to greet them. Between him and Swindle, Astrotrain was not entirely sure which one he'd rather deal with at the moment. But he had no choice in the matter either.

Waspinator it was.

"Well well...," Astrotrain began, before finding himself unable to think of anything particularly clever to say.

Moving on.

"Where's Octane?"

Bounce Chamber

Thank Primus for Astrotrain. Not only did he get Blitzwing and himself on-board the Ultrax without Ramjet the No-Show and his mythical bounce codes, but he also responded to Swindle's transmission, saving Blitzwing from having to interact with the conniving Combaticon. The Triple Changer, of course, could have acquired the codes and spoken to Swindle as well—he was capable of accomplishing those things—but... But...

He just didn't want to.

Ramjet was scarcely more real than that plan of his at this point in time, and that observation reduced Blitzwing's already meagre amount of enthusiasm for what he had in store to almost nothing. His absence, too, really had Blitzwing experiencing a state of anxiousness bordering on paranoia. What if the Seeker had set them up?

No. Not possible. He wasn't bright enough to hatch a clever scheme, let alone carry said clever scheme out.

Particularly when his partner in crime appeared to be Waspinator, an even bigger nickel-plated nitwit than Ramjet.

Blitzwing smirked at Astrotrain before directing it at Waspinator. He repeated the question, pressuring the bug bot into releasing an answer. “Yeah, Waspy. Where is Octane? Where is our oh so selfless comrade?”