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Shoreline

Well, well, well. That was quite the show Swindle and Ramjet had put on, quite the entertaining skit the two Decepticons had performed. Their efforts deserved several rounds of applause, a multitude of cheers, and critical acclaim until they could no longer bear it.

They were acting, weren't they? It was a satirical scene, wasn't it?

Oh, dear. Ramjet was being serious. Oh, dear.

Swindle had been well within his rights to take action against Ramjet; one simply did not turn his back on a Decepticon after disrespecting him and expect to evade the consequences. It was a lesson harshly learned in some cases, Ramjet's now the most recent example. But the question remained: would he emerge from this incident any wiser?

As did everyone who knew the Seeker, Blitzwing believed he, too, possessed the correct answer to that query. Of course not. Ramjet would continue to do stupid things. That was just what he did.

Walking over to Swindle's personal mini-armoury, Blitzwing cast a wary glance at the Combaticon. The mental image of Swindle with one pede resting on the disabled form of Ramjet like he'd successfully hunted Tarn's most lethal wild cyber-beast materialised in Blitzwing's core processor. That a smile still easily returned to his face-plate, after having lost it owing to the Seeker's intervention, made it all the more disturbing.

“I gotta echo Astrotrain's sentiments,” he said to Swindle. “What is it you want us to do?”

Suspicions. Blitzwing had them. Somewhere concealed within Swindle's honeyed words lay an intention, an ulterior motive. He'd bet the DJD his functioning on it.

A glimpse at Astrotrain revealed similar feelings. But he'd have to wait it out and see what scheme Swindle was attempting to set in motion.

Damn. Blitzwing hated waiting.

Shoreline

If looks could kill, Swindle would be dead hundreds of times over. Feeling the foot of the slimy businessman on Ramjet's back was insult enough to shoot him. And speaking of insults, whatever he had said earlier must have been taken as one whereas he wanted to come off as trying to do Swindle a favor. What was that old saying again? "No good deed goes unpunished"? Right.

But Ramjet didn't act upon his emotions, strong as they were. With his gyros messed up and the Combaticons around, he couldn't exactly last long enough to do enough of a hurting on Swindle before being deactivated himself... So he waited. He waited with the most disturbing grin on his face and a low chuckle just loud enough to be audible, for he was silently plotting his vengeance. His cold and painful vengeance.

And Ramjet was enjoying every second of it.

Shoreline

Just beneath the edge of the water, Onslaught could see that the Constructicons were doing what they did best. He saw that they appeared to be working on each other as well as the base. He had no idea why, but maybe Long Haul or the others had sustained some damages that needed repairing. Whatever the case was, their work here would not benefit from another distraction. Scrapper's commitment to their cause seemed tentative anyway. It would be best not to involve them in what was about to take place lest they inadvertently--or intentionally--make matters worse.

Turning back the way he came, Onslaught crested through the water's edge and walked back on to the shoreline, pleasantly surprised to see that Swindle not only had a pretty good idea, but had been exceedingly efficient in executing it.

"Excellent," Onslaught said, reaching into Swindle's cache for some additional artillery shells and some more sonic stun rounds that he could store away until after he had fired off everything in his current arsenal. He didn't need much, as he had been preparing for Razorclaw's call for some time now. He had been judicious in his use of weapons in their engagement with the Autobots and it would not take much to top his ammunition levels off. "Lock and load, boys."

Now that their timetables had been jumped forward a couple of steps, getting the Obliteration down here without the humans, or Shockwave, noticing would have to be an afterthought. It was time to bring the fight to the cyclops, and that meant heading to the Thanatos directly. So long as they hadn't been locked out.

Onslaught used his command codes to attempt an interface with the bounce chamber aboard the Thanatos. And it worked. Onslaught heaved an internal sigh of relief. That would make things much easier. He had a backup plan in mind if this simpler option hadn't panned out, but fortunately either Shockwave hadn't designated he and his unit as a threat to his power base yet, or Razorclaw had simply taken certain precautions to ensure they would get aboard.

Either way.

Onslaught opened a channel to all of his Combaticons, even though a couple were clearly in acceptable audio range.

>>"I'm setting the Thanatos' bounce chamber to our individual frequencies. It will bounce you up as soon as you tell it to. I want full energy and ammo levels going in. And no delays. Blast-Off, set the Obliteration on auto and meet us aboard. Brawl, you know what to do when we're clear. Onslaught out."<<

His sonic stun gun transforming out of a compartment on his right arm, Onslaught hit his personal activation link and in the next second, he had blinked from view entirely.

Shoreline

A soft muted click of a depleted multiple rocket housing pod was the first sound Vortex made since the departure of Ultra Magnus and his cadre of merry little Autobots. He allowed the pod to sink deeper into the frothy depths of the ocean waters for a drone to recover later down the line. Immediately a fully reloaded weapons pod emerged from the foam on the back of a sparkless mobile troller.

Vortex palmed the cartridge and with a firm twist attached it into the interior armory built in his alternative form's transformatiom module. Once satisfied that his higher capacity and more lethal armorments were at peak capacity, the interrogator checked the power levels on his Neutron Rifle and primary Cyclone Gun. The indicators lit green and scrolled cybertronian script indicating full charges.

"Alright Onslaught," Vortex spoke briskly as he returned his Cyclone Gun to a hip lock holster. "I know the primary objective is to bring Shockwave to heel. But I need access to that computer core to do it. The Thanatos has top of the line security. I recommend we take engineering first and lock out Shocky from the system there."

He waited a micron for Onslaught's response then tapped a command terminal on his right wrist. Immediately, with a non verbal nod to his team, Vortex was encased in a tomb of light and evaporated to the ether and to battle.

Shoreline

Swindle offered a reassuring smile to the two triplechangers before turning to rifle through his weapons stash. There were a few bits of technology he wanted to make sure he got a hold of before anyone else saw them. Sure, he’d brought it down here for all of them to reload and re-arm, but he had made this little emergency armor in case he needed to strike out on his own. Occasionally his business activities ran a bit counter to the general Decepticon cause or that of the Combaticons. Brawl had certainly indicated there was still a bit of bad blood from last time. Making sure he had a couple of key items would keep him safe if that happened again.

“Well fellas,” he addressed Blitzwing and Astrotrain, “things seem a bit fluid at the moment. It sounds like the slag is hitting the fan up in orbit, if ya know what I mean. I’m thinking that the whole leadership situation is about to get a lot clearer here real soon.” He grabbed some extra ammunition for his scatter blaster, attaching the large gun to his arm. The arms dealer grabbed a couple of energon containers, throwing one each to Astrotrain and Blitzwing before topping off his own tanks. “There are some repair patches in here to fix up any minor damage you have, anything major will take some more work.”

A broad smile formed on the Combaticon’s face as he scooped up one particular device. He had hoped to sell it to someone but at the very least he could get some use out of it. Autobots were always good at retrieving their fallen from the battlefield and they tended to shoot up anyone doing some scavenging so it had been a heck of a risk getting this device. It shouldn’t be too hard to integrate into his systems though, and then he would have his own little holoavatar to chat with the natives more easily. He just knew he’d be running this little mudball in no time or, at least, take all of its wealth.

Swindle frowned as he got the new message from Onslaught. Plunging into battle against fellow Decepticons on the enclosed confines of a starship was not his idea of a good time. Apparently it was going to be a Combaticon only show too, which meant he would be too busy fighting to collect any new merchandise. Yeah, this wasn’t going to be fun at all.

“Hmmm, well guys it looks like the boss is calling us away. I know I said I’d get you into the fight, and if it was up to me I would! But, we all have to answer to someone and I answer to Onslaught. So I figure while we are gone you guys can get fueled up, fixed up and then maybe load our weapons into whatever base the Constructicons are building down there. Nothing like having a fully stocked armory in a new base I say.” He leaned in close, placing his hands on each of their shoulders. He spoke in a whisper. “I know you guys aren’t happy about this, but it isn’t so bad. Onslaught probably wants to punish you and this is all you are going to get, and it includes full fuel tanks and repairs. That’s a slagging decent punishment if I do say so myself.

Swindle pulled his hands away, leaving small patches on each of their shoulders. The patches quickly changed color, blending into the color of each of the Decepticons paint schemes. It would take a very close inspection to even notice them, even buy the Decepticon they were attached too. The emitted a low frequency form of radiation that was totally harmless but could be easily traced by someone who knew what they were looking for. He wasn’t going to let the triple go off the reservation again.

The arms dealer smiled at them again as he scooped up the radio that matched the one Blast Off likely had now. “Alright guys, I’ll see you on the other side, hopefully with a definitive leader of the Decepticons.” Swindle activated his personal comm unit and connected to the Thanatos. He was instantly enveloped in a beam of light as he bounced up to the waiting vessel.

*

Undersea Base

Hook mostly blocked out the talking by the other Constructicons. It was a talent that had served him quite well over the years, and one every surgeon should possess. He carefully adjusted the nervous and electrical systems inside of Long Haul. It took careful and precise adjustments to make sure his systems would connect with the others and allow direct input and output and allowing his mind to merge into the collective on that would become Devastator. It was all groundbreaking technology and techniques and it didn’t need interrupting by whatever silly arguments the others were having.

Finally the surgical engineer began to extricate his hands from the other Constructicon, sealing him up as he went. “We can reactivate Long Haul now, another flawless operation completed.” He finished sealing up the Constructicon before looking at Scrapper. “Do we continue with the operations? I would prefer to stay activated during mine if possible, you might need my assistance in it.”

Shoreline

Astrotrain began rifling through the Combaticon's supply pod, quickly reaching for the repair patches that Swindle had indicated. It wasn't a CR chamber by any means, but it would do the trick for some of the damage that he had sustained from the Autobots in general, and that slagged little Aerialbot in particular. He was going to get him. Someday.

Astrotrain more or less agreed with everything Swindle had said, so he offered up no real protest as he went about doing what he was doing and then ultimately bouncing up to the Thanatos itself. Any lingering desire to take part in whatever Onslaught and his little troupe were up to quickly faded as the reality set in. Swindle was pretty spot on. The more he thought about it, the more he remembered that he had endured several more severe punishments than this in his day. Play labor mech to Onslaught's little toadie? He could do that for a while.

The triple changer looked over at Blitzwing and shrugged, before transforming in to his train mode. Not ideal without track, but he would make do. With several hisses of steam and grinding metal, the rear doors opened. Several small metal claws and cables snaked their way out to latch on to the pod and begin bringing it into his storage area.

"Load 'er up, I guess. Once you get your fill of the supply closet. Octane would have a field day with this little pod. Stash it away faster than Swindle would try to sell it. You want some of this, Rams? Maybe treat that burn mark on your back, hah hah."
___

Undersea Base

Scrapper nodded at Hook's acknowledgement that they had finished their work on Long Haul. Scrapper entered a few quick codes on the datapad berth that would systematically restore consciousness to Long Haul just as it had with the others and took a few moments to ponder the Constructicon Surgical Engineer's more pressing question.

"For as long as we can. Whatever battle that was up there, we were fortunate that it didn't find its way down here. I don't think our good fortune will last indefinitely."

Undoubtedly, however this internal civil war played out, whoever came out on top was going to quickly assume control of this base and every other Decepticon resource on this planet. Scrapper was fine with that, comfortable in the knowledge that the completion of Devastator was on the horizon, and none of them would be prepared for how he would change things.

"Of course Hook. I wouldn't deprive myself of your insights during this delicate process," Scrapper said, his words not tainted with sarcasm. He knew his team well, and Hook's ego was legendary among not just Constructicons, but the Decepticon empire as a whole. Be that as it may, he had the skills to back them up. Just as Scrapper did, though the Constructicon commander was far less inclined to bring such attention to himself. Nevertheless, he didn't have the slightest hesitation about indulging the surgeon's vanity. It could well prove to be necessary.

"Bonecrusher, it's your lucky cycle. You're up."

Shoreline

BOOM. THOOM. KA-BOOM.

Brawl was in his happy place. Well, if he had ever cared for the whole idea of Rungian re-experience therapy he would have been in that particular place. Or at least re-living it very closely.

Explosions were explosions, no matter what was the source. Sure, he had been forced to use throw-back explosives of this so called humankind but this was a clean-up operation. Humans were unfortunately clever enough to see the difference between weapons they had and those alien to them were they to study the damages and study them they would. Thus, detonating plasma charges or anti-matter bombs... or that fold-space warhead he was truly itching to try out, was not exactly preferable.

Oh well, these explosive shells emulating human naval artillery barrage were plenty fun to throw around. Sure, an international incident might follow. North Korea blaming their Southern neighbor or United States of America for defiling their soil or something. Brawl didn't really care. That was human business. And well, maybe some unrest between the meatbag nations would actually prove to further Decepticon goals. Well, maybe. He certainly wasn't going to ponder the results in depth. That was what the Onslaughts, Razorclaws and Shockwaves and such were there for. Well, whoever ended up being the boss after the leadership issue was handled.

Frag. That slagging leadership thingy. He had almost forgotten the whole thing. Firing one last explosive shell to the shore, Brawl - whom had driven himself into the sea in his tank form - transformed back into his robot mode and spared a short moment to admire his handiwork. Deciding it was satisfactory, Brawl activated his bounce beacon and disappeared seconds later in a bright beam of light.

Shoreline

One by one, the Combaticons were speared by columns of brilliant white light that transported them to the Thanatos. First Onslaught, then Vortex; Swindle and Brawl's departures soon followed afterwards. Blitzwing stood on the grain-filled strip of land, Astrotrain the only other mechanoid present on the shoreline.

He'd taken what he'd needed from the mini armoury, ammunition for his rifle, a couple of repair patches, and the energon containers Swindle had offered to him personally, all crucial items he could ill afford to decline. Even if Swindle was scheming, somehow searching for a way for Blitzwing to “owe him a favour”, the Triple Changer had to appreciate the free loot, if only a little.

And he also had to give him credit for knowing his way around words. Swindle certainly boasted the gift of the gab, his silver glossa aiding him in delivering persuasive and inviting speech. Even Blitzwing had to exercise caution, for he, a merciless killer owning the blackest brand of humour, could still fall victim to Swindle's words, his half-truths, and his lies.

Having said that, though, he was telling the truth about one thing: that Blitzwing had escaped punishment for his insubordination. For Onslaught to apparently drop the incident and forget about it—well, that happened as often as Ramjet made a rational decision.

Oh. Too soon?

Astrotrain transformed into his train mode and several metallic claws and cables emerged from the opened rear doors, grabbing the mini armoury and pulling it into his cargo hold. Blitzwing would have helped, but Astrotrain seemed to be doing fine without him.

He chuckled. “Octane would lose his slag over this pod. You know, I don't think we should let him know about it, 'cause we both know what he'll do.”

Octane was a bastard at the best of times. If he managed to find out about the mini armoury and claimed it as his own, not a single Decepticon would hear the end of it. Ever.

Speaking of Decepticons...

“Hey, genius!” Blitzwing called out to Ramjet. “When you're finished being one with nature, why don't you take some stuff out of this pod so we can get the Pit out of here?”

Right. The realisation smacked him in the face-plate as if a Dinobot had struck him. Ramjet was probably still disabled from Swindle's gyro gun.

Blitzwing glanced at Astrotrain before jerking a thumb at the Seeker. “Am I supposed to be helping him or something?”

Shoreline

Astrotrain had been a little surprised that Ramjet hadn't fired back with some angry retort. Surprised until he realized that he was probably still feeling the aftereffects of Swindle's clever little assault. Blitzwing had clearly come to the same conclusion.

"Oh no, please, allow me," the triple-changing train grumbled as he finished securing Swindle's little cash cow and slammed his gears in to reverse. His fellow triple-changer needed a little ribbing for just standing there. Astrotrain himself had been on the receiving end of it more than once. Such was the nature of the triorians' existence.

The large train hissed and the sound of metal grinding together was enough to overload a typical audio receptor as Astrotrain moved in to position. Then the same cables that had snaked their way out to lay claim to the pod now moved to do the same with the fallen Seeker.

"This slaggin' earth terrain is getting in to places where I didn't know I had places," Astrotrain continued, not quite having reached his complaint quota for the orn.

"Unicron forbid we break protocol and leave you out here for the fleshies to find," Astrotrain said, as the cables began to unceremoniously drag Ramjet into his cargo space.

The Yellow Sea - Underwater Base

Long Haul’s optics slowly flickered on, revealing the sight of some of his fellow Constructicons who were standing over and around him. His HUD indicated that each of his systems were now back online and operating at optimal efficiency. That was very good news as it meant everything had gone according to plan. The modifications were an apparent success just like the others before him. Once the rest underwent the same procedure, Devastator would finally become a reality and the Empire would fall under a Constructicon regime.

“I don’t really feel any different,” Long Haul commented as he sat up and slid off of the medical slab he had been lying on. Stretching out his limbs and servos, the green transport took a deep intake of air before releasing it again. He then glanced over at the surgical engineer who was preparing for his next patient. “Thanks, Hook. I appreciate the upgrade. Can’t wait to try out my new mode. Heh.”

Finally, Long Haul noticed that Bonecrusher was preparing for his turn under the knife. The heavy lifter quickly stepped aside in order to give his grumpy comrade room to take his place on the med berth. “Don’t worry about a thing, ‘Crusher. It doesn’t hurt a bit! Hook’s a real pro at this. You’ll feel great afterwards!” Long Haul patted his fellow Constructicon on the back before moving away to look himself over. The transporter wanted to be sure that all of his parts were accounted for. Everything appeared to be in order as there was nothing visibly different about his framework. Whatever adjustments had been made, they were internal and would only reveal themselves once the transformation into the gestalt commenced.

Probably a good thing. We don’t need the other ‘Cons asking us about any noticeable changes, Long Haul thought as he turned his attention back to the surgical berth. Until Scrapper gave him new orders, the transporter would allow his curiosity to get the better of him and watch as Hook performed the operation on Bonecrusher.