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Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Thunderwing listened and considered Onslaught’s words. Energy raids made sense after the loss of the primary base. There would likely have been a considerable loss of fuel and other resources that would have to be replaced. Still, sending out two near simultaneous or, at the very least, back to back raids would have stretched resources thin. There was likely an ulterior motive behind them. Perhaps they were planned as a distraction form the construction taking place here? It made some sense, although two raids seemed a bit extravagant for a distraction. Of course the seeker was not necessarily known for his subtlety.

The Decepticon was a bit surprised to hear that Starscream may still be alive, although likely injured. He would have suspected Razorclaw to have put him down permanently. Certainly the seeker could have uses in the future, particularly in controlling the other seekers. The question was whether that usefulness outweighed the potential trouble he could cause. He would be interested to hear Razorclaw’s reasoning behind his decision, whatever it happened to be.

He looked at Onslaught as they at least came to the true issue at hand. They had both danced around it long enough it seemed. “I contend that your actions on board the ship were rash at the time. An attempted coup, even if fully justified, is not something to be under taken lightly. I was uninformed and unprepared, leading to a default response of protecting the established leadership. If I were to make similar claims against you now and demand your surrender, would your team not come to your defense?”

Thunderwing allowed the question to hang in the water for a moment before continuing. “Situations change, of course, as new information is acquired. I come down here on orders from Shockwave, but I do not represent him. None of this information passed between us has been sent to him. I would make my own decisions for now, and they will be careful and well thought out. The situation is far too precarious to do otherwise, as I’m sure you know. Continued infighting does us no good.”

“I would speak with Razorclaw if you can arrange it. He can pick the location as I have no desire for it to turn into a battle of any sort. I would ask that you relay some urgency to him. Time is of the essence as even Shockwave does not possess infinite patience.”

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

“Sure, sure. I'll fill ya in.” A smirk creased Blitzwing's features. “And let you know just how stupid Ramjet can be. Seriously, you'd be surprised at some of the things he says. Dumbest slag, I swear.”

Assuming Ramjet took the hint in regards to his failed bid for leadership and didn't go for it a second time. Not exactly a given. Who knew how many pieces there would be to collect if he tried again? Though a high number was probable, even certain.

Blitzwing listened to Astrotrain as he commented on Starscream. His comrade was getting into it, really working his vocaliser, until the appearance of three Decepticons stripped him of his speech and he suggested a shift in their wanderings. For a moment Blitzwing wondered what had stopped Astrotrain from talking. Then he saw who had: Thunderwing, Onslaught, and Scrapper.

Their presence did warrant the addition of a new direction in their course. Not only did his superiors wear serious expressions on their faceplates, undoubtedly discussing matters Blitzwing found tedious, but he had nothing of importance to offer to any of them. They could have their little meeting or whatever it was to themselves for all he cared.

Steering away from the trio, Blitzwing said, “Nope. Can't be fragged dealing with them myself. And I don't want to, anyway. Kicking back for a breem sounds all right. Let's do it.”

Korean Shoreline

Darkride offered Long Haul his undivided attention. After all it was he who called this meeting into order. He was also excited to hear just what the Constructicons had up their proverbial sleeves. Just thinking about the information sent a shiver down the interrogator’s spinal structure. It was times like these that he cherished being a Decepticon.

While Long Haul droned on about the smaller mech’s intent to inflict bodily harm, Darkride let a broad, devilish smile work its way onto his face. Listening to the transport was insufferable so he chose to simply wait out his impertinence until Long Haul got the meat of the discussion.

The mech was certainly long winded for a simple Constructicon transport, and that fact could be used as a bit of leverage. After his brazen speech the green mech finally moved on to what Darkride wanted to hear. It’s about bloody time.

The interrogator settled in as he listened closely to everything Long Haul had to say about this Devastator. And when he was finally through with his information dump he had the gall to declare that this new Decepticon member would make all before him tremble. Such a bold statement spoken on behalf of one who was not even present.

The grin on Darkride’s face broadened as he stepped in even closer to the Constructicon. When he spoke it was in a baritone timbre.

“I would gladly welcome your ‘friend’ once he arrives, and when he does I will wantonly request a proper flogging.”

The smaller purple mech stepped back one pace locked optics with the ‘Con across from him, and brought his hand up to stroke his chin. His free hand gently rubbed the opposite arms elbow. A moment passed before he finally tore his gaze from Long Haul’s visor. Darkride then began to pace. It wasn’t due to aggravation or anxiety, no, in fact he was ecstatic, almost jubilant…but from his manic, almost erratic behavior not many could tell.

“You are good, Long Haul, I must commend you. You’re very difficult to read, but there are other ways to determine just what the truth really is.”

Darkride stopped his pacing directly in front of Long Haul. That familiar cruel smile worked its way right back onto the demented mech’s face.

“I can read you just by the way you carry yourself. Those slight jerks and pulls that move through your frame…you know, the ones you cannot help…the ones you do not even notice.”

His voice lowered and as he spoke a noticeable growl could be heard.

“You are nothing but a drone…not only to the whole of the faction but to your own teammates. Your termination would mean nothing to them. You. Are. Replaceable. But with your loss…Devastator would not take that kindly…your words.”

Darkride backed off almost completely, his optics still locked on Long Haul. He flashed the transport a toothy grin.

“Six of you and Devastator. Thank you Long Haul, you have given me exactly what I asked for.”

He slowly turned around and began to make his way to the workstation he and Oil Slick had been working at earlier, but he stopped suddenly to look over his shoulder.

“Oh and Long Haul, do not worry your lovely removable head. I am more than capable of keeping secrets…even yours.”

His peace said, Darkride turned his attention back to the small workstation and proceeded onward.

Korean Shoreline

Long Haul watched and listened as Darkride reacted to everything he had told him. Apparently, the interrogator believed that Devastator was a separate being, one that was currently on its way. This was a good thing as the true nature of the gestalt remained a secret. At least, that’s what the Constructicon hoped. The torturer did point out how difficult it was to read him, but then quickly followed that up with mentioning his ability to tell when someone was lying by the way they carried themselves and made certain motions without even noticing. Long Haul wasn’t sure what to think, but it still seemed that the interrogator had bought his half-truth.

Of course, the whole situation was not exactly ideal as the transporter would rather Darkride not know the name of Devastator at all. Unfortunately, Long Haul’s big mouth had let the cyber-cat out of the bag so to speak and thus it was all unavoidable. Maybe next time the heavy loader would be more careful when mentioning the combiner, or perhaps he should just not say anything at all and leave the thinking to others.

Darkride’s assertion that Long Haul was a mere drone who was replaceable was nothing the green transport had not heard before. Did it bother him? Sure. Did he want to pound the smaller ‘Con into the sand? Naturally. However, that would serve no purpose but to arose suspicion at this time. Ultimately, when Devastator became a reality, they would all see his true importance to not only his Constructicon brethren but to the whole of the Empire, as well.

The interrogator then promised that Long Haul’s secret would be safe with him and not to worry. “Whatever,” the heavy lifter muttered under his breath as Darkride returned his attention to a small workstation. The transporter then turned and headed back into the sea where the salt water could do more damage to his already saturated joints.

Onslaught stood silently, considering the whole of Thunderwing’s words. To what degree there was a game being played here and to what degree there was honest analysis coming forward, the Combaticon did not know. Regardless, it seemed like Thunderwing would not be calling upon Shockwave to bring the wrath of the Thanatos down on all of them at any point in the immediate future, so he could work with that.

The comparison between the warlord’s actions and the response his own unit might have if they were presented with similar circumstances had not escaped him. The Valckastan had not chosen to linger on that point for very long however, and Onslaught saw no point in contesting it. Brawl’s private transmission to him was only too indicative of what would happen if Thunderwing took such a step. Whatever the outcome might prove to be, Onslaught was certainly not going to risk his men. They hadn’t yet reached a point where their sacrifice would be worth it. Would they? Maybe. But Onslaught would ensure that if they went down, it would be for a cause—not simply furthering someone’s political whims. Even his own, whatever unorthodox path they were taking.

“I can,” Onslaught said, producing a small datapad and entering a set of coordinates based on Razorclaw’s last identified location. Given what he had been told of the Ultrax’s status, it was unlikely to change any time soon. He handed it to the warlord. “Razorclaw has already informed me of his desire to meet with you. He said nothing of an alternative location, so I would recommend you travel to the Ultrax directly. It is—for the time being—our only semi-functional base of operations on this planet. You can attempt to contact him directly if you choose. He will be expecting your arrival either way. We’ve been using the highest encryption protocols available to us. I am unsure whether or not we have successfully avoided Soundwave’s gaze. The fact that this structure still stands would suggest that we have, but I take nothing for granted.”

Having addressed the warlord directly, Onslaught took a moment to respond to Brawl’s comm. Tempting though it might have been, there was no real strategic impetus to take such action right now.

>>”I’m only too aware. We can’t risk it yet. Too much potential loss if we lose. Minimal reward if we win. No. Let the warlord conduct his business. Razorclaw understands our interests. If Thunderwing has broken away from Shockwave, it only weakens both of their positions that much more. So much the better for us.”<<

Bottom if the Yellow Sea

Bonecrusher trudged along, grumbling to himself after at the sand getting packed into his joints. It was annoying, the constant grinding in his ankles, the irritation of getting paint scratched and the imperfection of sand itself. Sand was mushy and unstable. It was a wonder that they were building a base on top of it. As the human parable states about the two builders: The one with the house on stone doesn't sink when the ones around him, who have their houses on sand, sink. A solid foundation is wise to have...

Eh. Scrapper will think of something. Bonecrusher thought while shaking his joints out.

His attention was brought to Scavenger, who asked if the supplies they were carrying were all of them.

"Yeah. Looks like-" Bonecrusher was cut off by the sudden outburst by Long-Haul, who was exclaiming about leaving something behind.

"Looks like we -- by that I mean he -- left somethin'." Bonecrusher stated with a tad bit of irritation.

Bonecrusher shrugged; it wasn't odd for the Transport to drop something, but he felt like Long-Haul was nervous.

Dome Structure

With Swindle apparently lost in his own thoughts, Mixmaster had returned to the confines of the done itself and finalized the cleanout process. It was a large, empty space, but at least it would be something to work with in these oppressive, submerged environs.

>>"Dryout process done done done!"<< Mixmaster gleefully transmitted to the others in his unit. "A workspace we can actually use. Long overdue. Far, far too long," he continued on, though now talking only to himself as he continued to trek around the dome, fine-tuning structural integrity where he could.

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Thunderwing nodded as he took the pad from Onslaught. “I would keep your transmission tight and targeted between this sight and Razorclaw’s. Soundwave may eventually be able to crack into them but that will certainly delay it. The fact that you are underwater likely helps as well.” He studied the pad for a moment. Apparently the Ultrax had made some sort of landing in water, as they had suspected. Its location was not overly far from his current one either. That was also probably why Soundwave had not intercepted their transmissions yet. It would be a quick journey there for him.

He handed the pad back to Onslaught. “I thank you Onslaught, for having a cool head in these tense times. Less rational minds in your place may very well have led us all into a brutal civil war. While we are still on the brink of one we have at least delayed its arrival, time enough for us to figure out a way to bring things to a peaceful conclusion.” He placed his hand on the Combaticon’s shoulder. “I will see to it that your actions will be commending officially, under whoever we may end up serving under.”

Thunderwing lowered his arm. “My regards to your team and to Scrapper and his unit, talking with Razorclaw is of more importance right now. Please inform him of my imminent and peaceful arrival. I have no desire to be shot down upon my arrival. Continue your work here as it is valuable to the cause, no matter who is leading it.”

With any luck some of those words would stay with Onslaught. Thunderwing did indeed mean them. He respected the Combaticon leader. If he were to make a claim for leadership he would want mechs like him on his side, professional, efficient and loyal. Those were the type of Decepticons he wanted, ones he could talk strategy with without egos and betrayal getting in the way.

Unfortunately not all Decepticons were like that. Few were really. On the Ultrax he would likely have to take a different approach to appeal to some of its crew. Razorclaw had staked his claim to leadership with force. Thunderwing was prepared to do so as well, although it would be an option of last resort. Already this breaking into factions was hurting them. He doubted that the Autobots would resort to such brutish methods to determine leadership. It was an unfortunate drawback to Megatron’s vision, the strongest should rule. Before Megatron had unquestioningly been the strongest. Now, now everyone wanted to find out if they were the strongest, little realizing that what they did weakened them all.

The Decepticon offered a nod to Onslaught before stepping back from him. The wings on his back flipped out and the engines activated. He quickly began to rise from the depths of the murky water before finally breaking the surface. Thunderwing hovered for a moment before transforming. His sleek alternate mode would rapidly take him to the Ultrax’s location. He would likely spend more time going down to its depth then traveling towards its location on the globe. With a burst of power from his engines he rocketed off.

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

"Thunderwing will have to wait. This base is not going to build itself." Well not yet anyhow... Scrapper had replied to Onslaught before moving away from the Combaticon commander and the soon to arrive long gone scientist Thunderwing - whom Shockwave apparently had brought with him from Cybertron. From there he had headed directly to the construction site, stopping only to send a short transmission to the two triplechangers he had noticed loitering about.

>>"Astrotrain and Blitzwing, may I suggest that you two help with the construction effort of a new water proof base rather sit around wasting our precious few energy resources for nothing? Long Haul could use your strength."<<

Of course, it had been a mere suggestion. While Scrapper technically outranked the two, he had delusions about them actually taking orders from him without a powerful patron like Megatron having told them to follow the Constructicon's lead. Perhaps it would be different with Devastator, yet there was no counting on it. Nevertheless, they would build this base with or without the triplechangers or any other Decepticons. Still, Scrapper was not about to turn helping hands away if they were to be offered for him.

Finally arriving to the dome they had created earlier, the acting unit leader of the Constructicons was pleasently surprised to find all the water pumped out of the construct by Mixmaster and a phase manipulator having been installed into it by Hook. The device allowed the Decepticons move straight through the dome's walls without having to build an airlock. Yet it was trigged to keep organic creatures and the water away.

Looking around him, Scrapper could see the materials raided by Baneblade's unit having been already brought into the dome. That was at least something. Yet, it was not enough, not by a longshot. The very size of transformers required large structures and large structures required massive amounts of building materials. The mobile base Starscream had ordered could not be created with the little they had. For that they would have to raid far more materials and time was a luxury they lacked. However by combining natural elements and their know-how, the Constructicons could create an immobile base of operations in no time. And that would allow them to focus on Devastator.

"Excellent work my friends." Scrapper congratulated the other Constructicons and motioned them to gather around a makeshift planning table one of them, probably Hook, had set up. "The materials we were provided might be enough to build one of those aircraft carriers the fleshling navies have patrolling the seas but it is not enough for us to create a mobile underwater fortress given our position has possibly been compromised. We need to priorize our efforts."

"We will dig into the bedrock here and create a network of tunnels that will function as our base of operations and reinforce it with what we have. Hook and I have created a design that can allows this facility to be later turned into a mobile fortress provided we have access to iron, aluminum and other metals the construction will require. While I understand that none of us likes to work with stone and concrete - we are not in a position to do otherwise." Scrapper continued his explanation and turned to see whether there was any other Decepticons but the Constructicons around, "Particularly if we are to finish the upgrade #D037."

"Now, let's get back to work gentlemechs."

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Sitting around, taking a load off, and allowing his full tank of energy to slowly digest and ripple its way through his systems sounded like too good a deal to pass up. He was glad Blitzwing had thrown the idea out there, as Astrotrain wasn't much inclined to do otherwise.

It never failed, though. Once you started to get really relaxed, something always came along to disrupt it. This time it was chatter from the little leader of the Constructicons. Apparently the big meeting, whatever it was, hadn't taken all that long and they were worthy of direct attention again. Granted, A-train hadn't really wanted it. But here it was, coming their way again. Joy.

"Ugh," Astrotrain groaned, rising to his full height again and looking over at Blitzwing, trying to gauge his reaction. Scrapper was hardly the most intimidating Decepticon, regardless of his rank. Even so, Astrotrain had heard stories, rumors mostly, of things that Scrapper had built out of people who crossed him over the vorns. So while he wasn't exactly inclined to scrape and bow for him like he would with some other, more powerful, Decepticons, he wasn't all too eager to get his name counted on some mysterious enemies list, either.

Besides, he had nothing better to do.

"Guess we better help. Tired of standing around in this," Astrotrain said, indicating the water all around them. "Which one's Long Haul? Slagging greenies all look the same to me."

Beneath the Yellow Sea: Combaticon Hub

Vortex flexed his digits again as he pointed towards the farthest wall as two non descript cargo drones pulled a large slab of armor plates against the naked rock of the recently hollowed out cavern. This was mundain and absolutely tedious a task that no one in their right mind would reduce themselves to undertake, which was why the interrogator was supervising. "Check those links. I do not want to have a reminder that we are stuck on this pathetic ball of dirt." He ordered as he leaned back against a small portable chair he had recently excavated from a stack of crates.


He pivoted in the chair briefly as he swung around to a portable computer terminal. Accessing the network the interrogator began to review the design of what would become the central hub of the Combaticon operations. More of an exclusive hub for the unit's more specific requirements. Better known as a barricks with perks. Plugging in several key requests from the local site quartermaster, Vortex began to plot the various layouts of the Combaticon Hub.

When he was satisfied with the materials he had ordered, Vortex opened a comm link to Onslaught. He paused briefly as he memorized the items in the request que. "Vortex to Onslaught. I have secured a more personalizable location for our more specialized needs. Care to link up at my coordinates for further refinement before construction in this area is commenced in haste?"

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

It didn’t take as long for Long Haul to make his way down into the watery depths and reach the construction site again. He knew the course well by now not to mention he was hurrying along in order to put as much distance between himself and Darkride as possible. He hoped that the interrogator would keep his promise and not say a word to anyone about their little talk. If things did get out, the heavy lifter could always just deny, deny and deny some more. It was a gamble but what other choice did he have?

Once he had found Scrapper and his Constructicon comrades, Long Haul followed everyone into the large, sealed dome. The transporter was happy to see that there was no air lock to access and instead he was able to simply pass directly through the outer wall and into a water-free environment. Phase shifting was truly a wondrous thing as it finally allowed him to dry out his overly saturated circuits. Ahh, that feels so much better!

Long Haul then gathered with the others around his commander and listened carefully to what the next phase of construction would be. Unfortunately, since the raw materials they currently had was not be enough to build a full fledged mobile fortress, they would have to make due and dig out a complex series of tunnels into the seabed that would serve as their temporary base of operations until they had what was needed to build a proper headquarters. Plus it would give them the opportunity to complete the Devastator project, or as it was now called: Upgrade #D037.

“Sounds like a solid plan to me, boss!” Long Haul responded to Scrapper, giving a thumbs up to the Constructicon Commander before moving away from the assembled group of mechs and over towards the bedrock in question. He quickly transformed into his dump truck mode and waited for his brothers to begin digging. The transporter knew all too well what his job would entail, carrying pile after pile of dug out rocks and dirt away from the dome until they were all done. Of course, that meant getting wet over and over again, but at least he could dry out each time he returned to the dome for another load.

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

Every time Blitzwing felt the need to do something, to evict the boredom harassing him, there was nothing to keep him occupied. When there was something to do, well, either the desire to be productive abandoned him or the task turned out to be a hoax. Maybe not a hoax exactly, but it wasn't as though his involvement was necessary for the completion of it.

Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

Now that he genuinely did want to kick back for a breem or two he found that opportunity denied to him, snatched away from his grasp the moment Scrapper's optics targeted him. Astrotrain agreed with Blitzwing to take it easy for an astrosec. Scrapper asked for his assistance. Blitzwing shook his helm, his faceplate contorted with irritation.

Up and down! Up and down! Up and down!

He cursed, the choice words ejecting from his oral cavity as if he were spitting acid. He was a warrior fist, warrior second, and warrior third. A labourer didn't even come into the equation. In fact, he rendered structures to debris, not helped to create them.

But whatever. There were no battles to be fought, at present. Might as well divert his energy into the construction of their new headquarters—their new home in the near future. And he might as well burn some fuel while he was at it.

He turned to Astrotrain. “You're asking the wrong mech.” But that didn't stop Blitzwing from trying to find out which of the Constructicons was Long Haul. “Hey, Long Haul!” he shouted, seemingly oblivious to the more smooth methods of locating certain individuals. “Which one of you is Long Haul? Come here a breem!”

Up and down. Up and down. Up.

Bottom of the Yellow Sea--Dome

D037. So, that's what they would refer to him as, eh? Worked just fine for Mixmaster. He was confidant that he hadn't spilled any details about the project to anyone who didn't need to hear them. As he looked at his other teammates, he couldn't help but wonder if they all had managed to do the same. It was an exciting project, after all--building the next leader of the Decepticons from scratch. If anyone knew what they were really doing, it would definitely pose a threat to them all.

Scrapper's orders got the Constructicon chemist's mind back on track quickly. He chuckled, nodded, and walked away from the others, heading to an area where the dome attached itself to a mountainous shelf of stone. There were other more qualified excavators than he, but he figured that was the next priority in terms of getting this base functional.

Transforming, Mixmaster's drum began to spin as new infusions of chemicals splashed around inside. Two drills and a hose module began to burrow in to the ground beneath him, collecting minerals and compounds that he could continue to convert in to useful, high-powered acids to expedite the excavation process.

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Bonecrusher listened intently to what Scrapper had to say about their plan. Apparently their base was going to move now. Bonecrusher was fine with that, just as long as it doesn't look stupid while moving then that would be fine with him.

"Ha! Well lucky for us we have a cement mixer!" Bonecrusher pat Mixmaster on the shoulder heartily.

But one thing was bugging him: The code.

Bonecrusher crossed his arms and squinted a bit under his visor at Scrapper.

"Dunn't that code sound a bit too... Ah..." Bonecrusher snapped his fingers while searching for the word, "... Suspicious? I mean, if we ever need to say somethin' 'bout it in public, wouldn't that draw a bit more attention to ourselves with all that code?"

Bonecrusher wasn't the subtle type by no means, however he had kept a secret before, namely his alliance with the Decepticons before the war, and he knew what tipped mechs off.

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

"You'd think it'd have to be that one, right?" Astrotrain said, pointing at the green Constructicon possessing an alternate mode that looked very much like it was designed for hauling stuff around.

The Constructicons seemed to be engrossed in their own assignments and had paid no attention to Blitzwing's calling out. Eh, it didn't really matter. Astrotrain figured they had a one-in-six chance of being right. If they were off, they could just move on to the next one.

"Hey Long Haul," Astrotrain said, still not entirely sure if he was speaking to the right Constructicon, despite all outward appearances. He had never really spent time with them individually. They were just a bright, green cluster to him, though Scrapper and Hook's reputations preceded them to some degree. "Scrapper says we should lend you a hand....so...where should we lend it?"
___

As Thunderwing left, Onslaught had simply stood silently for a moment, instinctively passing along word to Razorclaw through a simple coded message that Thunderwing would be on his way as expected. The politics of their situation were in full swing now. Every little action could have large ramifications. It was out of his hands at this point, but the integrity of the base had been preserved and that was what had been requested of him. Mission accomplished. Though there was no question that they were still vulnerable, and Onslaught intended to help rectify that as soon as possible.

"Agreed," Onslaught said, nodding at Scrapper as he returned his attention to his unit and their efforts. Onslaught would do the same.

"Double-time. Move. Anything the Constructicons need, assist them without question."

"We need to get the Obliteration down here somehow, chief," Swindle said, coming up behind the Combaticon Commander.

"We also need to do it without drawing attention from Shockwave and Soundwave and compromising Blast-Off's already precarious situation. For the moment I'm at a loss as to how. So in the meantime, get to work soldier."

Swindle rubbed his chin structure lightly.

"Yeah. Yeah, alright."

Korean Shoreline

Oil Slick had set down some short distance away from the construction site. He had no desire to draw attention to his return or the site of their base. If Darkride had done as he had promised then no one would have noticed his absence. Simply driving up to the site would then be far easier to explain then landing in the middle of it. Transforming to his motorcycle mode he drove towards the site, moving quickly but not fast enough to generate excessive noise.

As the chemist arrived at the construction site he found that all of his efforts at obfuscation were apparently unnecessary. The site was virtually abandoned, with Darkride the lone Decepticon present. It appeared that the project had progressed far enough to move completely beneath the water. Hopefully his absence had not been noticed amongst the moving of equipment and mechs. That Darkride was present on the surface was likely a good sign.

Oil Slick transformed and walked the short distance to the other Decepticon. “It appears much was accomplished while I was absent. I assume your efforts in covering my absence were successful and are much appreciated.” The Decepticon looked to the water, not particularly eager to discuss how his own mission had gone. “Did I miss anything of importance, politically or otherwise?”

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

As Long Haul waited patiently in his dump truck mode for someone to begin digging, the transporter’s thoughts drifted back to his conversation with Darkride. The interrogator had been very hard to figure out, especially for a simple construction mech like the heavy lifter. Had the torturer taken Long Haul’s explanation at face value or had he seen right through the half truths? Even if the latter was the case, Darkride would never be able to put together what Devastator really was unless, of course, he investigated things further on his own. Hopefully, by the time Darkride discovered anything of real value, the gestalt would already be complete and then that interrogating pest could be squashed like an Insecticon.

The thought of that made Long Haul chuckle under his breath as he heard Blitzwing suddenly bellow his name from a short distance away, demanding that he come to him. Before the transporter could respond, Astrotrain pointed the appropriate Constructicon out to his triple-changing partner before approaching Long Haul and asking him where they should lend a hand. The heavy lifter wasted no time in responding.

“Well, Scrapper wants a series of tunnels dug into the bedrock here. It’s going to serve as a temp base until the permanent, mobile one can be completed. We just need some able-bodied mechs to help excavate the area. So, Astrotrain, if you and Blitzwing would be so kind to begin digging here in quadrant 3 that would be great. Just load me up with the excess dirt and rocks as you go, and I’ll go dump the raw material off site. Then I’ll come back and we’ll just repeat the process until it’s done. Okay?”

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Thinking had never been Blitzwing's strong suit. Where some mechs would consult their processors for the pool of answers it offered to any problems when called upon, he made no such requests. When he wanted an answer, action and aggression were his instruments to ensure a speedy capture of them. It worked. For the most part.

Still, his straightforward approach prompted Astrotrain to act. And wouldn't you know it? His friend was right on the credits, singling out the correct Constructicon in one attempt.

Blitzwing slapped Astrotrain on the back, a wide grin almost taking over his face plate. “Well done, champ,” he said playfully. “I'm so happy to know that you want to get started as soon as I do.”

Which was a lie—but it was better than doing nothing. Or so he told himself for the umpteenth time, struggling to reinforce the idea with conviction. And that wasn't proceeding as smoothly as he would have liked.

When Long Haul met with Blitzwing who informed him what was required of him to help build...whatever part of the base it was, he restrained the compulsion to burst out laughing. Though the suggestion had originated from Scrapper, someone who undoubtedly outranked Blitzwing, it was strange having Long Haul, without apparent negativity, explain precisely what needed to be done. In fact, it was priceless coming from a grumbler like him.

Because he remembered hearing stories about the Constructicon, about how bored and frustrated he was with his function. Same old thing, every solar cycle. The fun must have been squeezed out of transportation long ago.

“Yeah, that sounds great.” Blitzwing gave Astrotrain a sly look as if Long Haul wasn't even standing in front of him. “Yeah fraggin' right! I'd rather have a spark to spark with Dead End, know what I'm saying? But all right, all right. Let's do this.”

Korean Shoreline

Disgusting! Oh yes, say it again. You’re worthless! Nothing but a sickening piece of slag! Heh! Keep that up and I just might start to believe you. You enjoy hearing the truth about what you really are, don’t you?

There was no answer. There was no need for one. Why respond to your own thoughts?

Optics shut down, head lowered and kneeling in a position that resembled a mech in a silent prayer to a God that no other worshiped, the Decepticon interrogator let his processor wander as he did every time he decided he ‘needed’.

A demented smile played over his faceplates as a low lyrical hum welled up from within. The tune meant nothing it was the vibration he was after. So soothing. He began a gentle sway…side to side as he placed his left arm over his left thigh. The demented smile crept away at a snail’s pace; replacing it was a look of pure ecstasy.

The small trickle of energon leaving a thin trail from his arm to his thigh sent a quiver down his spine. It wasn’t enough to kill, and not nearly enough to satiate the ‘need’, but it was enough to ward it off for just a little while.

Darkride on-lined his optics but he kept them slightly out of focus just to retain that sensation of euphoria that always followed after such a sacred ritual.

The smile that had made its home upon his visage before had now returned as the haze of his high began to lift. The interrogator lowered his head down so he could observe the offering through his eyes and not through his sense of touch. He was pleased with what he saw…very pleased. But it was not nearly enough for his liking. It will have to do…for now. He raised his right hand to optic level and smiled as he watched the last droplets of his life giving fluid fall from his clawed forefinger only to catch the final bead in his waiting mouth.

The all too familiar sound of a motorcycle engine brought a wide grin to Darkride’s faceplate as he knew precisely who the owner was. That was the end of his alone time.
The purple mech remained in his solemn position…back to his compatriot. Darkride shut down his optics again and lowered his chin slightly.

“Do you know what I abhor? I do not have my instruments. That is what I detest about being here.”

Optics brightening to their usual deep ruby red, Darkride turned his gaze up to the sky and let out an over dramatic sad sigh.

“I miss the melody they made. The screams, the wails those oh so deafening cries for mercy. And I cannot forget the pleas…mmmm; those pleas were as sweet as the sweetest energon nectar.”

The thought nearly made the mech salivate.

Darkride finally broke through his mock funk and slowly rose back up to his full height. He still kept his back to Oil Slick, not out of embarrassment, his comrade already knew about his practices. He kept his stance just because he could.

“So the prodigal son has returned. I do hope your travels went well.”

He looked over his shoulder a shrewd smirk plastered on his face. Darkride finally turned around fully and made his way over to a makeshift table that he had been using for the more intricate work he had to perform. Keeping his eyes on the domed Decepticon, Darkride placed both elbows on the table, leaned down and rested his chin in his cupped hands.

“Yes, yes. Things went rather smoothly while you were off on your little tryst. And your cover story was not even necessary. In fact the uncivilized neanderthals stationed here did not even realize you walked off the grounds.”

He offered up a mock pout as he shook his cradled head.

“It is a shame really. Between all of them we are the only ones with the brains. Tsk Tsk.”

Darkride’s optics brightened as he heard just what Oil Slick had asked. An almost delirious look crept over the interrogator’s face and as he stared up at Oil Slick he motioned with one long clawed digit with a ‘come here’ gesture.

“Oh Oil Slick my precious, precious compatriot. I have the most scrumptious news. It seems that the Constructicons are expecting an acquaintance for supper. Isn’t that delightful?”

The twisted mech flashed his opposite a toothy grin. He had to know what the chemist thought of that little morsel. After all there was no need in sharing if he got no reaction.

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

"You're lucky, he's lucky, I'm lucky...we're all lucky hahahahahah!" Mixmaster cackled at Bonecrusher's tidbit of encouragement as he continued to blast his way in to the mountainside with his molten concoction.
___

How about that? He'd been right. If he were back on Cybertron right now, and the planet were even remotely livable, he'd take his good odds and go spend them at the arena, see if he could multiply his good fortune betting in the Pits. Unfortunately, there were a lot of "ifs" in that line of wishful thinking, and the triple-changer wasn't sure if they would ever get back to those days. Or something better? At the end of all this conquering, that's what they were supposed to be rewarded with for having been loyal to Megatron's ruling army.

Right?

Astrotrain looked over at the area that Long Haul had indicated, pondering what Scrapper had wanted them to do. This was manual labor of the worst kind, but Astrotrain didn't mind too much. Both of his alternate modes, like Long Haul's were designed for getting things from one place to another--regardless of whether the resources were personnel or freight. He supposed he sympathized, even if only a little, with the Constructicon hauler in that regard.

Astrotrain looked over at Blitzwing, wondering for a moment if the fellow triple-changer might suffer a full-on circuit meltdown for a second. Astrotrain might sympathize with Long Haul a little, but he knew Blitzwing sure wouldn't. He was a warrior, through and through. In the end, though, he agreed, if only to save himself from the boredom, most likely. Astrotrain could sympathize with that sentiment too.

"Yeah, let's do it," Astrotrain said, producing his rifle and adjusting the settings so that it would emit a constant, drilling stream. He looked over at the cackling nutjob Constructicon for a second before pointing his own digging tool in a different direction. "Away from that one."

Korean Shoreline

Oil Slick waited patiently as Darkride spoke. Apparently the other Decepticon was feeling dramatic and nostalgic. They were feelings he did not share. What he did feel was a bit of impatience at his comrade’s soliloquy. He remained silent however, his expression neutral. The feeling was likely to pass from the interrogator quickly. If there was one thing he enjoyed anywhere near as much as inflicting pain it was gaining new information. It was the purpose of his job after all, even if he oft forgot about it.

Finally he turned and acknowledged him. He let the comment about his travels pass unanswered. The chemist was more interested in what he had missed then in informing Darkride of his less then successful mission. He was pleased to find out that his absence had gone unnoticed. Unlike some Decepticons he preferred to keep a low profile. With his more shady dealings it was of great advantage to be ignored or forgotten. His ego took no damage from being forgotten, another trait that separated him from most other Decepticons.

The mention of the Constructicons finally did get a reaction from Oil Slick. His optics narrowed as he looked down at Darkride. “An acquaintance? What do you mean? Is the new base complete? Are they working on a new project? This could be of some importance considering the delicate nature of things now. Has there been any change in the leadership structure?” If one would categorize curiosity as an emotion it was one of the few the Decepticon still displayed. Information was always required before formulating his next step and with his recent failure that next step would have to be carefully calculated.

Korean Shoreline

The bright, broad smile that was fixed on the interrogator’s face grew exponentially upon hearing the quick succession of questions asked by the curious chemist. The look on Oil Slick’s stoic face was simply fantastic. The chemist prided himself on keeping neutral in everything he did…that included his look. Of course this was no exception…not knowing Oil Slick as Darkride did the armature would not even notice the change from a serious professional to a curious information seeker.

Darkride let out a hearty laugh at the stream of questions that was spewed forth from the mech across from him. It was just all too easy.

“Acquaintance, yes. According to my large loader source, the Constructicons are anticipating the arrival of a ‘Devastator’. Whether that is its name or simply a code for what the monstrosity will actually do…I haven’t the slightest clue.”

With that same sinister smirk still in place, Darkride straightened his posture and turned his attention to the forearm he had sliced open not moments ago. The steady drip of energon brightened the interrogator’s mood prompting him to run a long sharp claw through the purple fluid. With a quick swipe he scooped up several droplets on the tip of the talon and brought it up to optic level.

“No, of course the base is not completed. I told you, the only ones with enough worth are you and I, and we, my dear Oil Slick, are stuck out here. And as far as a new project, one could always assume.”

Still holding the single digit up to his optics and his focus solely on the glowing life blood Darkride tilted his head back, raised his hand above his open mouth but paused so he could respond to Oil Slick’s last query concerning the leadership issue.

“From what I know there has been no change. Although, before they trudged below the surface, Onslaught and his men, along with Scrapper and his men, I noticed that they seemed to be getting close. I believe they may be keeping some secrets. Perhaps they have information on the leadership structure. However, whether they do or not I could not care in the least. Whoever takes over need only supply me with a steady stream of bodies to rend.”

That said Darkride let the droplet slip from his fingertip and into his awaiting mouth.

“Mayhap we should gather a tad more intel before assumptions can settle in. And you, my dear Oil Slick, are our optimal candidate for such an endeavor.“

Walking around the table Darkride lifted a sharpened claw and tapped his comrade’s dome.

“After all, you already come equipped with a self-contained apparatus. Quite useful in and out of the briny muck.”

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Onslaught had finally decided to enter the dome structure. For whatever reason, he could see that his comm signals were more clearly received in here. That likely meant they would be more easily transmitted as well. It wasn't much, but they were finally getting something that they could use down here. With the Constructicons focused on the task at hand and the Combaticons assisting as they were able, Onslaught was confidant that they could make the most out of whatever little they were given to use--be it resources or time.

The Combaticon's thoughts turned to Razorclaw. Though he knew, or believed anyway, that the Predacon Commander would stand right alongside the other unit commanders who had stood beside him, he was now the de facto choice amongst their ranks to take Megatron's throne. That would put him in a very precarious and dangerous position. He knew it, just as Onslaught knew it. They had both spoken of that reality back on Cybertron. But now that the reality was here, staring them in the face, Onslaught couldn't help but wonder how his colleague-in-arms was handling it. Or how he himself would handle it. Or any of the other unit leaders, for that matter. All of them excelled in very valuable areas both on the battlefield as well as in the war rooms. Valuable enough that Megatron had placed them in such vital positions. All of them, directly or indirectly, would probably see themselves as equally as capable as Razorclaw of holding the position. The balancing act that was to come would be a delicate one.

That was, of course, assuming some other high command type didn't manage to frag them all.

As he walked and pondered the ramifications of the current circumstances, Onslaught eventually found himself within the area of the dome that Vortex appeared to working to convert into something that would uniquely serve the Combaticons' purposes.

"What needs refined?" Onslaught asked calmly. "You appear to be doing fine on your own."

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

With Constructicons finally properly organized and both Combaticons and triplechangers mobilized to aid them, the construction effort of the new base was finally getting results. Mining lasers and the incredible amount of labor Decepticons could perform when sufficiently motivated had already resulted in a 1/4 mile long tunnel and a large hangar like space being dug into the bed rock. The way everything was moving on right now allowed Scrapper to take a pause from the mining work and meet up with the more specialized Constructicons to discuss what was about to be done next.

Bonecrusher and Long Haul did not need changes in their orders. Both were doing what they the most suitable for and there was no denying that despite the fact neither exactly appreciated their work - they were both masters of their trade. Scavenger on the other hand had finally provided what his sensors had tentatively promised before they had even decided on this exact construction site. And thus, the excavation specialist would move to mark up new digging targets for the other Decepticons the priority number of each dig before joining the mining effort personally.

For real technical wizards of his team; Mixmaster and Hook, Scrapper had more than mere digging work to discuss about. This geographic region had not been selected randomly by Starscream - and Scrapper knew why for he and Hook had performed the analysis the Air Commander's decision had been based on. The region had been scouted to be particularly rich with Ore-13 deposits. Even better, Scavenger had found an extremely rich iron ore concentration with considerable amount of aluminium to be thrown as an extra. This was going to provide the Constructicons basically all the building materials they would need.

Having motioned both Hook and Mixmaster to follow him, Scrapper placed a small datapad on a makeshift stone table. In matter of seconds the datapad performed a tranformation of its own, unfolding and growing to cover the whole table and bring up numerous design schematics Scrapper had came up with for the new base.

"As we all knew this spot was not selected randomly, even if we let Baneblade and the others think so. I believe it is time we began building the refineries we need to take control of all the assets we have been so readily given an access to." Scrapper addressed his fellow engineers. "Mixmaster? If you would start creating strengthening agents that will allow us to mold the iron ore into suitable metals that reach our standards? And Hook my friend, I believe it is time we showed this rabble what we really can do, don't you think?"