The Energon Pub

Hangar

And here they go again. From mission to the cutting table, and now back to another mission. Dead End sighed as he walked into the hangar, the quick visit to the Cr Chamber to update his alt mode for a more “off-road” experience taking less time than most of the other Stunticons. Whereas most of them completely retrofitted themselves with a new frame, Dead End opted to simply get a lift-kit installed and better tires. No need to keep Motormaster waiting any longer than they needed to. But then again... maybe the Stunticon Commander would get so angry this time that he actually puts an end to this miserable life cycle he’s been stuck in.

”Eh, probably not.” Dead End internalized as he approached boarding ramp to the shuttle. ”When do I ever win anything I want?”

Taking his seat, the red and black Stunticon folded his arms over his chest playing and awaited for the next part of their trip, the raging storm that is Motormaster no doubt about to come crashing down upon them once the door seals shut.

-

When Long Haul received the comm line from Scrapper, he could hardly contain his excitement. Back to the mudball? For real?! Please let this mission be something other than hauling materials! Please don’t be labor! The transporter shifted to his dump truck alternate mode and bolted for the hangar, his wheels screeching as he burned rubber down the corridor.

Upon arriving, Long Haul bee-lined to Scrapper and shifted before the Constructicon Engineer/Commander, stopping just at the base of the ramp where he was standing.

“Boss! Please tell me we get to hit something!”

Corridors

”You tell me.”

Skullcruncher was right, the two of them weren’t given any orders in which to follow. Stay out of trouble was kind of a given and the duo had just helped separate those ruffians from escalating their scuffle any further. Weirdwolf placed an inquisitive digit against his lips as he pondered what is it they could do that would also entertain he who was bored of their usual activities.

“Hmmm...” he pondered, his internal processor remembering one of Rampage’s Terran broadcasts, “Most enjoyable planetside trip ours was last. To see again very much like it I would, albeit preferred less aquatic far from Autobots our environment.” His optical visor flashed as he was hit with inspiration, the memory of the channel-surfing Predacon’s viewscreen displaying a so called “Entertainment Capital of the World.” If the two of them couldn’t find something to do there, then this planet was doomed before they ever arrived to the system.

“Got it! The game infiltration is, join the fray must we!” He pivoted towards the reptilian decepticon, Fire in his optics as he spoke. “Know where we the city of sins go and entertainment find us we shall! Amongst the fleshies hide, observe and report can we, but none-the-less adventure had will be!”

“What idea about that say you? Hm?”

Oh no. Not that face. Weirdwolf was clearly pondering something and usually Weirdwolf pondering something involved him dragging poor Skullcruncher along with his shenanigans. What else one could expect from a brilliant, creative mind trapped in the role of a soldier waiting for the next set of orders. The down time had to be far worse to someone like Weirdwolf than it was to Skullcruncher and it had to be said – Skullcruncher did not exactly enjoy prolonged times of inactive either. However, what Weirdwolf’s ideas usually ended up meaning for him – was usually trouble.

”Join the fray?” Skullcruncher questioned his enthusiastic friend, facepalming as if he had a headache, ”Let me get this straight.”

”You want go down to Sol-3 and infiltrate a fleshling city?” The larger Decepticon inquired, ”Why the dwelling is called city of sins and what are we going to observe there exactly? I have never even heard of the place.”

Corridors

”Let me get this straight. You want go down to Sol-3 and infiltrate fleshling city? Why the dwelling is called city of sins and what are we going to observe there exactly? I have never even heard of the place.”

Weirdwolf summoned his datapad once more before Skullcruncher’s questions, his actuators flying over the keys as he easily broke through the Terran networking program called “Internet”. Once he searched up this city of sins, he flashed Skullcruncher the information and handed off the datapad into his claws.

“Your optics, not your stomach, feast upon this! Popular is our destination, vacation and excitement a plenty the locals partake! Why stop not us in to ravel and enjoy ourselves?” He held out his hands like a big picture frame, looking to nowhere in particular as he tried to spell out his fantasy to the reptilian Decepticon. “Skullcruncher and Weirdwolf: conquerers legendary of city of sins! LASS. VEE-GASS!”

He paused for a more, reveling in his dramatic theatrics as his words set in before shifting back to a quizzical expression again.

“Of course, cannot in this state we go. Acquire Holomatters would we, and update our disguises better blend into the crowds would do us.”

Skullcruncher stared at the datapad Weirdwolf had handed over to him with some level of bewilderment. Weirdwolf had likely been a regular at places like the one he was indigesting information about before the war but not him. Skullcruncher had worked at waste disposal. What else could he have done. He hadn’t exactly been an alt.mode exempt. No, one didn’t simply turn into a dump truck and do something else entirely back then.

”This sorta looks like the Altihex Casino I think?” He thought out aloud, ”I mean, I never had the credits to visit it but even I had an access to holovids.”

Skullcruncher lobbed the datapad back at his overly theatrical friend and shrugged. ”I guess. Never seen a place like up close so why not now? It ain’t like Megatron gave us something specific to do. And according to your map, there was a fleshling military base nearby so… that kind of takes care of the reasoning going there, right?”

”It is just,” he began with some level of defeat in his voice, ”It is back to being a garbage truck for me ain’t it?”

[Hangar]

Scavenger wrote:"Oh... I'm sorry. Didn't see you!"

Offroad felt the bump on his back, and immediately rotated his skull at an angle far beyond what should be considered comfortable. His red optics glowed with images of death and his gaze pierced into Scavenger like a thousand needles injecting into a system of veins. There was almost an aura of impending doom, pain and a tornado of suffering that surrounded the green-faced devil.

But wait, that wasn’t it. Offroad had simply turned around normally and let an amused chuckle out of his vocaliser. He put a hand on the Constructicon’s shoulder plating and grinned with mirth in his expression. “All is fine, Scavenger. No need to worry.”

Not yet, anyway.

Hangar – Shuttle

Motormaster wrote:“You disgust me. Get in.”

Yeah, what else is new? Drag Strip thought to himself as the Stunticon Commander pushed him up the ramp that led into the shuttle. What did Motormaster think Drag was going to say? Did he really think that the former follower of the Fallen would stand there and argue with him? Oh, yeah, that would’ve gone over big and just led to another aft-whooping. By simply going along with what ol’ motorhead said, Drag took that potential beating off the table. The yellow ‘Con knew he could win races without his boss fixing them and that’s what was important especially now that Drag was on such thin ice since the Fallen fiasco.

Offroad wrote:“I anticipate those wheels of yours to be adequate for the rough. Would be a shame if they skidded, heh.”

Drag Strip turned to look at the new arrival, Offroad. “You really think these big aft tires are going to skid?” The former racer asked with a slight chuckle. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve changed my alt mode, temporarily, of course. This new one is what the fleshies call a Rally Fighter. These tires can go through almost any terrain. It’ll work much better than my previous Dodge Viper alt mode, which I hope to get back to as soon as this mission is over and done with.”

The yellow Stunticon then entered the shuttle’s passenger cabin and found a seat next to Dead End. Drag Strip looked over at his doom-and-gloom comrade with a grin on his faceplate. “So, you ready for this mission, Deady? I see you got a lift-kit installed with better tires. I hope that will be enough for the off-road terrain we’ll be facing down there. I’d hate to see you get stuck in the muck and get left behind. Heh.”

Drag loved to torment Dead End. Anything to make him feel even more pessimistic or dour about any given situation made the yellow Stunticon’s circuits feel all warm and cozy inside.

Bowels of the Thanatos - Oil Slick’s Laboratory

The trek through the Thanatos hadn’t bene in vain, though Oil Slick doubted few would see it that way.

Despite their energon-thirsty nature, the Decepticons were a short-sighted bunch when it came to winning. At least, that was the conclusion Oil Slick had come to after reviewing his conversations over the last cycle or two, particular Thunderwing.

He was more convinced now than ever that the warlord had spoken in a code of sorts. Of course, such experiments would be conducted in secrecy. It was Oil Slick’s way and everyone knew that. It was why he was regularly given a section of whichever ship he was on to work that was as far from inhabited areas as possible.

He also believed, after having the chance to think through his options, that he would be spied on at some level. Whether it was for insurance against him or for Thunderwing to steal his work was the only question left in his processor.

And it didn’t matter.

Oil Slick would continue his experiments as he’d always done. The difference now was he would be willing to allow others to join him in his final findings. Cosmic rust was his favorite, but to accomplish what he had in mind, he needed something fast acting. Something that was readily available. Something that every mech on the Thanatos used.

Oh yes, this is going to be my greatest work yet. Oil Slick laughed as he studied the various chemicals in the storage cabinet above his workstation. If he wouldn’t be allowed access to Megatron’s or the others’ files, he would find another way.

The first step was eliminating one’s ability to process non-relevant information for itself. That was easy enough to do, but to do so while their other functions remained untouched would be the key.

So much to do, so little time. The tips of Oil Slick’s elongated fingers clicked as he accessed his previous experiments. There was something there, there always was. He just needed to find it.

Hangar-Shuttle

All Scavenger could do for a moment was stare down at the lemon faced Stunticon. At least...he thought he was a Stunticon. Why would someone be with the Stunticons if they weren't a Stunticon? The dim-witted Constructicon scratched his cranium as he thought about this, but his processors were getting pretty hot. Also, the guy seemed pretty angry the way he was just staring back at him. When the guy clapped an open hand gently and brotherly-like on his shoulder, Scavenger was taken aback. He didn't expect that at all. Then, Offroad said it was ok. Scavenger was quite relieved. He reached ahand over and patted Offroad on his back, probably a bit too roughly, as he said,

"Thanks for understanding, uhhh Offroad was it? I'm Scavenger. I'm an expert at digging! So uhhh...what's your specialty?", he asked. He'd board the shuttle with the rest of the team comprised of the two gestalt units, and waited for an answer, while his optics drifted over the shuttle's interior and other inhabitants.

Alpha Hangar--Shuttle

Hook accounted for. Scavenger? Check. Interacting in his clumsy way with one of Motormaster's mercenaries. That was all well and good, so long as his submissive nature didn't trigger some psycho Con's sadistic side. Primus knows it had happened before.

Long Haul. Excellent. Things were moving along nicely.

“Boss! Please tell me we get to hit something!” Long Haul pleaded. Scrapper didn't want to get his hopes up. But...

"Think of it this way. We're going to be hunting Ore-13! And....the Predacons will be down there. Along with Motormaster's...ahem...associates. I'd say your odds are higher than usual."

Scrapper clapped Long Haul on the shoulder and looked past as Bonecrusher and Mixmaster were not far behind Long Haul.

Check and check, Scrapper thought. Saying nothing to Motormaster that might antagonize him, the Constructicon commander simply turned and boarded the shuttle along with the others.
___

Breakdown looked up as green mechs began to steadily enter the passenger cabin. What the frag? Why were they here? Where were they going anyway? Were they going to need lots of repairs?

This didn't bode well.

A roar of high rpm engine disappeared beyond the even higher pitched sound of tires screeching against the hangar floor as the last missing Stunticon arrived to the rendezvous zone. The familiar sound of transformation followed, turned into noise of metal skidding against metal – only to end in a loud metallic clang that was preceded by a beginning of scream of protest that never really got the traction its owner had intended.

Within seconds of the clang, Wildrider’s barely conscious form hit the shuttle floor in the middle the Stunticons and Constructicons gathered within their designed transport to the Decepticon mining operation in Congo.

A moment later, Motormaster’s hulking form entered the shuttle through the open hatch, an aura of dread emanating from him.

”Get the shuttle moving.” The angry black and gray demon given cybernetic form growled, ”We have wasted enough time.”

[Shuttle]

Drag Strip wrote:“You really think these big aft tires are going to skid?”

Drag Strip went on to ramble about how much better his new alt mode was for the current mission. It made Offroad chuckle, seeing how much the Stunticon had to justify himself. “Size does not matter,” the devil said, “It’s how you use it that does matter. I wouldn’t be so sure of the traction of those tires if I were you.”

The yellow Stunticon proceeded to go over and bully Dead End. What a mess Motormaster’s team was, though it did not surprise the devil one bit.

The constructicon, Scavenger, who had bumped into him earlier still wanted to continue talking. Offroad reciprocated.

Scavenger wrote:"Thanks for understanding, uhhh Offroad was it? I'm Scavenger. I'm an expert at digging! So uhhh...what's your specialty?"

”By profession, I am an extreme-conditions operative. In other words, I handle the dirty work that others usually do not.”

Breakdown was also on the shuttle. Heh. The look on his face gave away how paranoia-stricken he was, though this did not surprise the devil either. With a quick sleight of hand, Offroad found himself standing right next to Breakdown, hand on his shoulder. He tilted his head slightly, aligning his ruby optics with the Stunticon’s, and smirked. “Good to see you, Breakdown. How have things been for you?”

Just as he finished his question, Wildrider came crashing in, head first (quite literally) and flat corgi'd himself onto the floor. How typical. Finally, the hulking brute Motormaster entered the shuttle, his large stature making everyone else seem like a minibot in comparison. It was time to go. Offroad smiled.

OOC: Stunticons and Constructicons are moving to Congo thread. - Cry

Oil Slick’s Laboratory

In the bowels of the Thanatos, Oil Slick studied the readouts from his first round of tests.

“Hmm, intriguing. The chemical makeup dissolves the outer coating of the logic circuits, but nothing I’ve tried thus far as stopped it there,” Oil Slick muttered to himself. Not that he was surprised by it, but he had hoped his new solution would halt the acid he wanted to test. Unfortunately, the small stopping agent’s container hadn’t been eaten through aby the acid fast enough.

It’d come down to his choice in materials. He’d chosen one of their stronger ones to resist the acid long enough for the acid to do its work. Now, he faced the problem of trying another approach.

A soft creak of metal on metal came from the table behind him.

Without looking up from his studies, Oil Slick replied, “Have no fear. I’m sure you’ll be functional for us to discover the secret. You won’t realize it, of course, but you’ll be functional.”

Turning around, Oil Slick’s optics settled on the vehicon that had accepted his request to aide in his experiments. It was restrained and the front section of its cranial housing had been removed, exposing the inner workings of wires, energy distribution nodes, the inner couplings that was his current focus. “There may be more after you, my friend, but know your sacrifice shall help science expand.”

With that, Oil Slick turned and picked up a small vial and inserted it into and hypospray. “Only three million, nine hundred thousand, forty-eight logic circuits to test. This may continue to hurt.”

As he injected a new solution into the mech’s processor, the display showing the vehicon’s various receptors had one section grow red and spike. “A shame you’re unable to respond vocally. Our last test reached your vocalizer controls before I could stop it.”

Oil Slick studied the new readings, rubbing his chin in thought as the receptor display went back to normal. That time, the acid ignored the halting agent completely.

Could it be I need something besides chemicals? he thought while making a note of the chemical composition of the acid for future use, then turned for another vial. “Perhaps after this round of testing. Three million, nine hundred thousand, forty-seven to go, my friend.”

Bridge

Having gotten bored with the Seekers and the Combaticons on board the Obliteration, Laserbeak decided to bounce up to the Thanatos and finally return to his master, Soundwave, who was currently situated on the bridge. As the doors opened, the red and black condor flew in and transformed back into his micro-cassette mode and slid effortlessly into the blue mech’s chest cavity. Laserbeak then began downloading all of the footage and audio he had recorded while he was on Mars.

“Here you go, Soundwave,” Laserbeak said from within the Decepticon Communications Specialist. “Don’t know if it matters at this point as Lord Megatron has likely already dealt with Starscream, but at least we have a record of exactly what happened on Sol-4.”

((OOC-If you have a Casseticon and want to utilize them for this "down time" on the bridge, feel free.))

Bridge

Laserbeak's activities had not left Soundwave's notice from the moment he left his storage cavity. He was pleased to see his associate returning to the bridge unharmed.

Laserbeak's arrival had prompted Soundwave to eject several more of his operatives, allowing them to take whatever unoccupied position on the bridge they so desired. Apart from Dreadwind and Darkwing, they were the only ones currently here.

Once Laserbeak came to the bridge, he promptly transformed and began the upload process.

“Here you go, Soundwave. Don’t know if it matters at this point as Lord Megatron has likely already dealt with Starscream, but at least we have a record of exactly what happened on Sol-4.”

"It will matter," Soundwave said evenly. "Posterity."

If nothing else, having a thorough accounting of everything that had occurred on this planet would be useful once the great war finally came to an end and Megatron's vision was realized. Beyond that, when the war finally did end, Soundwave was confidant that mechanoids like Starscream would finally be held to account for the various ways they strayed from Megatron's vision, even when it could not be classified as outright treason.
___

Ratbat had clipped his claws to one of the monitor seats and was tapping away curiously on one of the consoles. He watched as Laserbeak arrived and went through their usual procedures of "checking in" with their superior.

"When Megatron returns from this little 'excursion' of his, we should begin looking for our next Autobot target."

Oil Slick’s Laboratory

Oil Slick stared at his latest volunteer, a young Seeker that had shown so much promise in the scientific field. He may have even rivaled Starscream’s achievements at some point. Of course, that was in the past tense.

Oh, he still had a future in the science field, but it was through a different means.

“Feeling better, are we?” Oil Slick asked.

The Seeker nodded, his optics flaring bright red for a brief moment before they settled back into their standard red glow.

“Good. Very good,” he said, studying the readout on his datapad. “The implants are working as expected.” He tapped a finger on the screen, bringing the display into a enlarged view of the Seeker’s internal workings and the hundreds of tiny nanobots as they exited the mini ports he’d installed to make their transfer easier went about their work repairing the severed circuit.

Nothing surprising about that as it was what they were programmed to do, as basic as it was. What he was interested in was how would they deploy his latest neurotoxin. If successful, the diluted acidic toxin would erase some minor aspects of the Seeker’s sub-programming without leaving a trace.

At least, that was the plan. Given how his last test subject hadn’t given him much aside from what didn’t work (still a success, depending on one’s point of view), he had high hopes for this one that he was on the correct path.

He’d hate to lose this assistant like the last one. After all, there were only so many accidents that could be explained away. Maybe this one would stumble into the energon converter would be best. He was known to spend most of his time in the engineering department, after all.

“It appears we may have a reason to celebrate afterwards,” he said, punching in a new set of commands, then watched the nanobots shift their focus. Not too bad considering they are lower quality, he thought, minor annoyance at the better equipped nanobots being under strict regulation. As if anyone on board would have the initiative to use them to take over. He paused as a couple of names crossed his processor, disproving his thought. Such is the way of a faulty hypothesis. He smiled in response, then returned to studying the display and scrolling readout.

Corridors-Shockwave's Lab

The bounce from the fleshling planet to the Thanatos was a short but painful one. Usually it wasn't much of anything but a slight discomfort, but when your vital readings were dangerously low, it felt a lot more sickening to teleport from one place to the next. Was this how Skywarp felt when he teleported with extensive injuries? He wouldn't know. Unlike the others in his trine, Starscream had no outlier abilities. He didn't need them....that thought made him smirk as he limped down the darkened hall.

A few other mechs passed him, looking at him in horror but saying nothing. Starscream gave them an enraged look and spat, "Mind your own business!", and he kept limping towards Shockwave's lab. Yes, he could have opted for the normal Medi Bay and dragged himself into a CR Chamber, but where was the fun in that? He wanted repairs quickly, in a timely manner, and he wanted to push Shockwave for a system upgrade, though he knew that was pushing it. He could at least converse with the empurata'd doctor.

The doors to the lab hissed open and the primarily light grey Seeker dragged his torn body through, hissing softly but with urgency in his weariness, "Shockwave. Where are you? Repair me, and make me stronger than ever! Please...I am dying and I wish to serve...."

He made his way to a berth and sat himself down, but not without groaning. He then waited for the one eyed science freak to come along. Surely he was here. He had to be. Where else would he be?

Bridge

Frenzy re-entered the bridge, having recently gone to get a drink from the mess-hall. He returned to his "Father and siblings" with a can of engex in one hand, a straw in his mouth slurping up the glowing pink liquid. A little picture of a kremzeek was on the can. It was cute in a way. He kinda looked like a kid enjoying a Capri Sun on a hot summer day.

"Hey...Laserbeak, you're back.", said Frenzy, pointing out the obvious. It seemed like the black and red bird casset had been gone forever. "So what mess happened, with ol' Starscream?", he chuckled. He tossed the can after crushing it, into the nearest waste basket, and hopped up on Soundwave's lap.

"Yah...Autobots. I'd like to rough them up a little.", he said excitedly, hearing Soundwave's comment on what they should do next when Megatron returns.

Shockwave's Laboratory

Starscream's arrival onboard the Thanatos in a conscious state had been a mild surprise to the Military Operations Commander. Shockwave had calculated 56.7629% probability that Megatron would finally have grown tired of Starscream's antics and finish him off.

Starscream's knack for survival had always presented variables that could not fully be accounted for, though each time he survived, Shockwave's calculations would improve.

Almost equally as surprising, the Seeker Leader limped past the standard medibay and continued on a course that would shortly mark his arrival...here.

Given Starscream's rate of movement, the doors to Shockwave's personal workspace aboard the Decepticon warship opened when expected, revealing up close the extent of Starscream's injuries.

"Shockwave. Where are you? Repair me, and make me stronger than ever! Please...I am dying and I wish to serve...."

If Starscream had the audacity to attempt to order him around, he was going to find himself on the verge of a rather harsh reality check. But in the span of a phrase, the demand turned into a plea. Shockwave would not dismiss a plea outright.

"Declarative: you should be grateful that you continue to function at all," Shockwave said as he stepped away from the workstation that currently held his attention--several gestalt designs rotating--and approached the berth where the Seeker had sat himself down. "While I am confident that Megatron has allowed you to live in order to continue your service to the Decepticon empire and to receive repairs that will restore you to your standard operational levels....your request for an upgrade of any kind is....illogical."

Shockwave used his hand to push Starscream back into a prone position on the berth and activated a series of scanning equipment that would assess all of the damage that he had sustained.

Bridge

"Hey...Laserbeak, you're back. So what mess happened, with ol' Starscream?"

"Safe and sound. We're all just a happy, cozy bunch," Ratbat smirked as he continued to tap away on his console.

"Starscream's poor choices caught up with him," Soundwave remarked as he continued to monitor the situation on Sol-3 with Megatron. Until their leader returned to their ship, the situation had his undivided attention. "As they often do."

"That's putting it diplomatically," Ratbat chuckled. "I believe he's in Shockwave's lab as we speak, dealing with the consequences of those choices. He had to've glitched a logic circuit thinking that excursion to Sol-4 was going to better his position."

Shockwave's Laboratory

Of course Starscream was grateful to be alive. He just wasn't showing that gratitude. He hardly ever did, and if he did, he usually wanted something in return for showing it. The grey, red, and blue Seeker stared indifferently at the one eyed mech as he walked from his work ststion and into the area the flier was seated in.

"While I am confident that Megatron has allowed you to live in order to continue your service to the Decepticon empire and to receive repairs that will restore you to your standard operational levels....your request for an upgrade of any kind is....illogical."

Starscream sighed at this, and replied in a dull tone, "I should have known you would say something like that. Fine...return me to my former physical glory. I simply don't wish to be this wretched anymore. And energon please....I am dangerously low, I'm afraid, dear Shockwave."

That little term, dear would surely pique the purple scientist's curiosity. Did Starscream want something more? Of course he did. He always wanted more. For now though, with Shockwave placing his one intact hand on Starscream's broken chest plate and pushing him back, the Air Commander flinched and yelped, "AHHH Shockwave!! Please, it hurts tremendously!" After all, his crunched and rolled up wing was still speared through his abdomen. Glowing purple fluid leaked out from the wound and onto the berth before dripping onto the floor. That was disregarding the trail he brought in with him.

Shockwave's Laboratory

"I should have known you would say something like that. Fine...return me to my former physical glory. I simply don't wish to be this wretched anymore. And energon please....I am dangerously low, I'm afraid, dear Shockwave."

"Agreed," Shockwave said simply, a response that encompassed everything Starscream had said thus far.

Once Starscream was suitably hooked up to the various sensors that would provide Shockwave with all the data he needed regarding the Seeker Leader's injuries and overall state of existence, the Military Operations Commander would have the data he required to execute the most efficient repairs. With Starscream, however, that was rarely so simply a prospect.

"AHHH Shockwave!! Please, it hurts tremendously!"

Shockwave pulled his hand back, his singular optic flickering curiously as he walked back over to the central control console and began examining the incoming data.

"Declarative: you exaggerate," Shockwave said as various arms began to descend and take apart various pieces of Starscream's outer armor in order to access the damaged materials below and start removing and replacing. Several arachnoid-like mechs began to skitter across the floor onto Starscream's legs and torso and assisted the mechanoid arms in their labors.

"Interrogative: what will be your next objective, once these repairs are completed?"

Beta Hangar

As the shuttle completed the final leg of its journey of its return trip to the Thanatos, it was summarily bombarded by the typical clearance requests that would be expected by any command-level vessel. Blast-Off had them at the ready and submitted each one as it came through.

In short order, Soundwave's visage appeared on the main viewer.

"Clearance accepted. Proceed to Beta Hangar. Bay seven. Soundwave out."

"As personable as ever," Blast-off said with a grin as he opened up a comm to the other Combaticons. >>"Coming in for a landing in the Thanatos' beta hangar, gentlemen. Prepare to disembark."<<

”Embark! Disembark! Bouncing back and forth!” Brawl groaned as he prepared to do exactly what Blast-Off had suggested. ”That’s literally all we do lately! Can’t even get a solid chance of punching an Autobot like in good old times...”

Beta Hangar

"Embark! Disembark! Bouncing back and forth! That’s literally all we do lately! Can’t even get a solid chance of punching an Autobot like in good old times...”

Onslaught chuckled as he rose to his feet.

"Come now, Brawl. You know this is far preferable to sitting idle and unused. Megatron remembers how useful we are and we're proving him right. I see good things for our future," he said, clapping the tankbot on the shoulder as the other Combaticons gathered. "Now let's go see why he's sent us to see Shockwave."

”Bah! It is going to be a lecture of somekind or a… A powerpoint presentation!” Brawl protested, slumping a little despite of Onslaught’s reassurances. ”And if it is not Shockwave is the most boring Decepticon this side of the galaxy as usual, it is us getting to be his test subjects on something.”