The Energon Pub

[Deck 9 Corridors]

Dreadnaut followed behind the tiny yellow and purple jetformer called Hazard. His towering size certainly made the other mechs in the corridor move away. The Duocon, who also seemed to be looking for his partner, was tagging along. Dreadnaut knew neither of their mates yet marched on behind them.

Hazard wrote:"He's here somewhere on deck nine. Guys....do you have any idea what happened?"

"Megatron," came the one word out of the towering mech's vocaliser. "Megatron happened." He gestured to Hazard to lower his weapon, as he opened up the large missile pods on his shoulders. He gave a thumbs up and continued down the corridor.

Shockwave’s Laboratory

Razorclaw remained steadfast beside Megatron’s med berth as Motormaster arrived and had a little back and forth discussion with Shockwave regarding the Stunticons being the next specialty group to have the gestalt process performed on them. The lion-former couldn’t help but agree with the Stunticon Commander’s concerns regarding how well he and his men would fare being forced together into one large combiner. However, Razorclaw kept his opinion to himself as it was not his call. If the Predacon leader had still been in charge he would’ve picked the Combaticons and then his own Predacons to undergo the process next. As it were, Razorclaw was not in charge anymore and at this point he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Now…I've laid out what must be done to ensure our victory. See to it,” Megatron said, looking around the room to everyone present. There was much to be accomplished per the slagmaker’s orders. There were general commands to the group as a whole, but Razorclaw knew he had to take the initiative in order to remain in Megatron’s favor after having successfully kept the Empire from crumbling.

“Of course, Lord Megatron,” Razorclaw replied with a respectful bow before rising up to his full height again. “If you have no objections, my liege, I will take charge of locating and extracting the Ore-13. Once a sizable deposit has been found, my Predacons and I will take a vehicon mining crew down to the planet and extract it ASAP.” The lion-former then turned his attention to the Military Operations Commander. “Shockwave, have you already detected any deposits of the ore yet? If so, I will need you to provide me with a list of the largest ones so that I can get the mission underway sooner rather than later.”
_______________

Meanwhile, Sixshot stood idly by, leaning against a bulkhead as everyone discussed what needed to be done. Honestly, now that the fighting with Megatron was over, boredom had begun to set in again. The STAG simply remained silent and still until the slagmaker had given his final command to “see to it.” Razorclaw, ever wanting to remain in Megatron’s good graces, opted to take charge of the Ore-13 operations. Onslaught and his Combaticons had already gone off to retrieve Starscream from Sol-4 while Motormaster and his Stunticons were poised to become the next gestalt. So, what did that leave the phase sixer to do?

“So, um, what do you need me to do exactly, my lord?” Sixshot finally spoke up as he pushed himself away from the bulkhead and approached the slagmaker’s berth. “I would love to help drag Starscream back here kicking and, well, screaming, but something tells me Onslaught and his brood have that covered well enough. I guess I could simply remain here as a security measure to make sure that you don’t lose control again. Whatever you need of me, Lord Megatron, I am at your disposal.” The sixchanger was hoping for something exciting to do, but at this point in time he would be happy with doing anything instead of nothing at all.

Refueling Bar

Once Amethyst had gotten back to his feet and started singing of all things, Skywarp covered his audio receptors with both hands before turning around to face the bar he was seated at. The bartender drone served him a nice tall glass of high grade and the teleporter lowered his hands to the bar top, grabbing the glass in his right. He downed it fast in the hopes that a drunken state would overcome him and that terrible singing would fade away. Unfortunately, luck was not on his side.

The singing did stop, though, and was replaced by a loud commotion of seekers and a ground pounder called Offroad getting into a verbal spat before weapons were ultimately drawn on each other. Skywarp tried to ignore this new annoyance but then his long time friend, Thundercracker, insisted they go break things up before it got out of hand.

>>Warp, we’ve got to get this under control before someone’s offlined.<<

“Do we have to?” Skywarp’s response came back out loud instead of through an internal comm. Oh, well. It’s not like any of the others could hear them since they were more focused on killing each other than what the prankster was saying. ‘Warp glanced back and saw that Thundercracker was already heading for the commotion, intent on stopping anyone from dying. “Okay, fine. I’ll help.”

Reluctantly, Skywarp placed his empty glass down, giving a stern look to the bartender. “Make sure this is filled back up before I get back. And don’t let anyone else drink it! Understand?” The drone nodded, nervously, as the teleporter stood from his chair and followed after Thundercracker. However, by the time the prankster had caught up to his blue friend, the situation had seemingly resolved itself nonviolently.

“ALL HAIL MEGATRON!” Thrust shouted as his lifted his hands into the air, looking for support from the others.

Skywarp responded by doing the same, wishing he had waited for his glass to be refilled so he could have brought it with him. “Yeah! All hail Megatron!” The teleporter then turned his attention over to Thundercracker as he stood beside his friend. “See, ‘Cracker, everything’s under control. No harm, no foul and no one dead. I knew you could do it without me. Heh.” Skywarp playfully smacked his buddy on the shoulder plate before turning around to go retrieve his drink he had left behind at the bar.

Shockwave's Laboratory

"Negative," Shockwave replied matter-of-factly. "The empire is not best-served by taking the Constructicons off the field again. They serve too many other functions. We will improve the process as we go, but the fact remains that we require more of these warriors sooner rather than later. Even Devastator--with his flaws--is more serviceable to us in a battle scenario than his six component parts. So will it be with the gestalts to come."

Says you. Motormaster thought to himself. Constructicons were infinitely useful for great variety of purposes. Putting them to risk as frontline combatants as Devastator felt like weird path to pursue by someone as logic driven as Shockwave. Now if, he were to create a combiner out of Stunticons to replace Devastator on the front lines made more sense, but then again, Shockwave had said nothing of such. But what did he know, he was just a thug to be used to the likes of the former senator. Nor he could read minds. Perhaps Shockwave was after that. Replace the more useful group with a bunch of expendable hooligans.

Frag. That started make bit too much sense now. Even worse, Motormaster felt angry. The old one eyed geezer knew nothing about selling ideas to others. Shockwave’s last words had hurt his pride. A giant oaf like Devastator more useful than he and his team? Fragging self important calculator. Were it not for presence of Megatron, Sixshot and so many others, Motormaster might have attacked Shockwave on the spot.

"Just so," Megatron said at last, looking from Shockwave to Motormaster and then to the rest of his gathered lieutenants. "Now...I've laid out what must be done to ensure our victory. See to it."

And now it was too late. Megatron had grown tired of their banter. The leader of the Decepticons commanded action. What other choice he had left but to comply? Death was not an option to Motormaster. He had no death wish like some other idiots. Dead End being one of the most obvious cases of such behavior.

Outmaneuvered but not having his spirit defeated, Motormaster opened a direct comm-link to the other Stunticons, giving them their orders. >>”Get to Shockwave’s lab. Now. Megatron commands it.”<<

”I have sent the word. The rest will be here shortly.” He spoke up, staring a hole in his mind through Shockwave’s hexagon shaped head. Just you wait. We’re gonna get even. Sooner or later.

Re-fueling Bar

Thrust continued to smile as he sipped his engex.

Yep, things couldn’t have worked out better. Sure, Offroad had scared the scrap out of him, but he did that to everyone. It was for effect. A good one, but an effect just the same. No mech, no matter how deluded, would threaten a Seeker when so many of his brothers were near.

A small scuffle sound caught his attention, and for the briefest of moments he thought another fight was about to begin. He looked over his shoulder, ready to cheer on the combatants, then stopped when he saw it was Redwing picking Amethyst up and carrying him out of the bar.

So much the better. After Amethyst’s revelations about what had happened on the mission, Thrust couldn’t help but wonder if the mech was worth the time he had intended to put into developing his skills. Of course, if he could turn Amethyst into a fierce warrior like himself and his brethren, help him to reach the level and rank of the true elite, then his reputation would surpass all others. Except for the top three, but Starscream, Thundercracker, and Skywarp wouldn’t be around forever. They relied on one another too much. A weakness he didn’t share with Dirge or Ramjet. And that could only be a strength.

Satisfied, he turned back to his drink and took a larger swallow. Things would work out.

Offroad wrote:"Try anything out of the ordinary and I will rip out your fuel pump and force it down your vocaliser in no time."

Where the mech’s voice would’ve given him pause, now Thrust heard the voice on an ally attempting to maintain his reputation. It was something he understood more than any gave him credit for. Still, he took the opportunity to energize his weapons. He wasn’t going to be caught with his aft burning in the thrusters again. One embarrassment was enough.

For a few nanoclicks, Thrust pretended he hadn’t heard Offroad. When he did respond, his voice was even. “You mean besides drinking with a fellow Decepticon, warrior? Even if you are a dirtpounder, you are one of us. We have a common goal, do we not?”

Thrust’s optics flashed bright red as he took another swallow of his drink and set the cup on the bar as he stood, positioning himself so his left arm weapon pointed at Offroad’s side where it couldn’t be avoided. “Perhaps, our paths shall cross again. On that day, you’ll learn our enemies don’t react well to threats.”

Corridors

Wildrider didn’t remember much of the trip back to the Thanatos. Something about Colonel Bonkers and then darkness. When he jerked back awake, Bonkers paused from gnawing on his one good arm to look up at him briefly before returning to munching in earnest. “Ack, get offa me!” Wildrider grumbled, kicking Bonkers away and hopping to his feet, glancing around.

“They ditched me! Fraggers,” Wildrider hissed, moving into the depths of the ship with their hellhound nipping at his heels.

>>”Get to Shockwave’s lab. Now. Megatron commands it.”<<

Motormaster’s voice. But...seemed like a couple screws had been knocked loose. Megatron? That slagger had been dead for a while now. Scratching the back of his head, Wildrider shrugged. Well, Lord Buckethead had an even greater talent for cheating death than even Wildrider had.

>>”On my way, chief,”<< Wildrider sent back. Maybe he could score some points back with the big M if he was the first one there. Yeah. Give him some leeway for future trouble. Transforming and peeling out, he had to wonder what Megatron had planned for them. A trip to Shockwave’s lab sounded like they were gonna get all twisted up. That was what usually happened. Maybe he could convince Shockwave to give him chainsaws for hands. That’d be worth losing an arm for. Colonel Bonkers snarled and raced after him, which only gave him more incentive to burn rubber.

Skidding to a stop as they came to the door to the lab, Wildrider slammed his fist a few times on the door. “Hey! I’m here, boss!”


Shockwave’s Lab

Flamewar’s optics flicked to the door as someone else unceremoniously banged on it. Ruffians. But Motormaster’s lot had their uses. She had been quietly absorbing the debate between Motormaster and Shockwave, making mental notes for future reference. It was good that she’d managed to stroke Sixshot’s ego in her report. It would make him better disposed toward her. Still, it was the truth as she saw it.

Razorclaw was quick to jump on the opportunity to stay in Megatron’s good graces, insisting on pressing forward with the recovery of Ore-13. She had briefed herself on what little was known about the mineral as well as she could in the short span that she had allotted for catching herself up to speed.

>>”No worries, my dear. I’ll protect you from the big bad cat if necessary. Heh.”<<

Flamewar stifle a chuckle at that. >>”The Predacons versus Sixshot. Hah, they might provide you a bit of a challenge. Still, the sentiment is appreciated.”<<

Sixshot soon then stepped forward and voiced his displeasure, wanting something to do. Flamewar stepped forward looking from Sixshot to Megatron. “While having you as a security measure is not a bad idea, we should prioritize advancing infiltration protocol. To that end, I suggest engaging in calculated strikes on regions that our facsimiles have made vulnerable. We can divert the Autobots from our Ore-13 operations while advancing our agenda.”

Flamewar turned to Sixshot and extended a hand. “I know it’s not conventional to use Sixshot until Phase Six, but if he can reign in some of his more destructive tendencies, I believe he will be a powerful deterrent to any Autobot interference. Additionally...when we’re ready to move onto Phase Four, forming false alliances with a faction of the native inhabitants would prevent the Autobots from marshalling any support in the later phases.”

Bowing her head to Megatron, Flamewar lifted her optics to him. “Of course, the final decision as rests with you as it rightfully should, my lord.”

Beta Hangar / Corridors to Shockwave's Lab

When Octane summoned a bunch of vehicons to take over the work of offloading the cache of energon from Astrotrain’s cargo hold, Drag Strip stepped back and allowed them to take his hover cart full of cubes. Drag only hoped that this didn’t tick off Motormaster considering he had ordered the Stunticons, themselves, to do this task. Being lazy and allowing some vehicons to do their job for them might not sit very well with the hulking brute of a unit commander. Ol’ motorhead was always looking for some excuse, no matter what it was, to beat and torture them some more.

>>”Get to Shockwave’s lab. Now. Megatron commands it.”<<

As if on cue, Motormaster’s booming vocals echoed across the Stunticons’ collective comm lines. It was enough to make the former race champion jump a little in surprise. And that wasn’t the only surprise. Apparently, Megatron was back! “Wait, did he just say, Megatron?! Holy frag, the slagmaker has returned! I knew he wasn’t dead. You can’t kill Megatron!”

Regaining his composure, Drag Strip sent a non-verbal reply back to Motormaster before quickly exiting Astrotrain and transforming into his Dodge Viper ACR alt mode. The yellow Stunticon then raced after Wildrider who had already taken off towards their destination. Unfortunately, that pet of his, Colonel Bonkers, was with the resident terrorist. How lucky for all of them.

Wildrider reached Shockwave’s lab first and began pounding on the door to be let in. Drag Strip pulled up alongside him and transformed back into his robot mode. “So, what do you think they have in store for us, ’Rider? With our luck, we’ll probably be lab cyber-rats in some kind of experiment.” Drag then felt something bite his ankle joint. “Ow!” Looking down, the yellow mech saw his comrade’s hellhound trying to take a chunk out of his leg. “Get away from me you beast!”

Drag Strip tried to kick Bonkers away from him before returning his attention to Wildrider. “Control your pet, please! I’m not his personal chew toy!"

Re-Fueling bar

Thundercracker winced at Thrust’s sudden announcement as he followed suit, though not as vocally.

That went… well? While diffusing the situation had been his goal, Thundercracker couldn’t shake the feeling it was too easy. It wasn’t so much the Seekers he was concerned with, but Offroad was a new breed, a true psychopath only Megatron could indulge.

As great a leader as Megatron was, the influx of mentally unstable mechs hadn’t aided their cause. If anything, they hindered it. Sure, their brutality had its moments in battle, but as their numbers had grown, they began to intimidate other Decepticons simply because they could.

It’s like dealing with the Dinobots.

Skywarp wrote: “See, ‘Cracker, everything’s under control. No harm, no foul and no one dead. I knew you could do it without me. Heh.”

Skywarp playfully smacked his buddy on the shoulder plate before turning around to go retrieve his drink he had left behind at the bar.

Thundercracker jerked slightly from his friend’s slap. He wanted to remain annoyed at the situation, but the interruption came at the perfect time as he really didn’t want to see where his line of thought took him. A smile even appeared on his faceplate and despite everything, he chuckled. Leave it to Warp to break through the mood.

“Yeah, I’m getting pretty good at this. Maybe for my next trick I should try talking the Autobots into surrendering.”

Turning, he followed Skywarp back to the bar. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Still, old habits were hard to break, and he glanced over his shoulder at the odd pairing of Thrust and Offroad. He hoped this was the end to their “festivities.”

Turning back to the bartender, Thundercracker motioned for another drink. “Regular this time.”

Deck 9 Corridors

"Yes, I think Megatron. I heard something about him on return. Damage gives evidence. No noise now so maybe Megatron calm. Razorclaw and others know what to do."

Battletrap continued to look around for whoever they were trying to find.

"Have we found missing brother? My friend and Duocon Flywheels messaged me. He might join us later."

>>"Sorr...y...some..thin...gs...wr...ong with...m..my comm. Come...in?....Doomy...I...a..m...on...dec..k...nine...near...ele...vator."<<

Strange.. Hazard's comm system didn't normally act up as such. Of course, there's a first time for everything, including glitches.

Doomshot without responding decided to make his way towards the elevators, and sure enough he saw his brother Hazard accompanied by a couple of other mechs. No doubt they had ascended the ship to see what all the ruckus was about.

"Hazard," said Doomshot with a slight smile, "There you are, brother. Who are your.. new acquaintances?"


Bonecrusher smirked at Scrapper's response. Of course the brute of the team was known for getting in trouble or even making trouble when intoxicated, but being torn up again? No! Bonecrusher was the one tearing OTHERS up! Tph.. silly.

"Scavs! You wanna join me at the lounge.. or.. bar or... whatever it's called? Anybody else?"


Redwing carried Amethyst on his shoulder out of the bar to find somewhere else to go. He didn't know exactly where, but just somewhere to sit quietly and wait for Amethyst to wake up.

Soon Redwing found himself and his new and unconscious buddy Amethyst in a fairly wide section of corridors. Redwing sat Amethyst down against the wall, and then Redwing sat down the same. Pulling out his bottle of enjex, he started to down it slowly. He didn't know how long Offroad's pellet.. thing knocked Amethyst out for. He hoped it wasn't too long.

"Hmm," Redwing said quietly to the sleeping Amethyst, "Eh, you know, your paint job looks slightly.. generic man. I wonder if we can do something about that. Believe me, I totally got a sense of style, dude."

Redwing took another swig of the enjex. He started to feel a bit sleepy. Ah. That felt better.

Corridors

Well the shield was working well enough for him at the moment, that last attack she made threw them both back. However the kitty cat looking one went at him again with her blades. The glitch doesn’t seem to learn very quickly. Fangry swung his shield towards Technikiller during her latest rush, managing to stop one of her attacks aimed for his knees. It wasn’t until he deflected one that he noticed he left himself open for the second attack and the blade carved a sizable cut into the main joint. The black and magenta tracker buckled over in pain as he swung his rifle around defensively to unleash another barrage at her in retaliation. It was then another voice had entered the area...

”Cease this tomfoolery you will!”

Oh great, it was him. Fangry has his fair shares of run ins with the broken vocalizer before, majority of them not ending well for him. And if that yellow-plated glitch was here, his scaly friend was probably close by as well. Recoiling on his now damaged knee, Fangry shifted to his monster mode to try and alleviate some of the damage by shifting the damage location.

“Grah! Sod off, boot licker!” Fangry’s wolf-like head snarled back, his clawed hand moving to cup the former knee wound now located on his side. “This glitch is being taught a lesson in respect!”

Deck-9-Corridors

After reporting in, Dessicator thought the best way to unwind before heading to the bar would be to tour the carnage the return of their leader had caused. There was something about studying another’s handiwork that helped him to focus on his own skills. To match the level of destruction Megatron could create would take work, but that’s what made his line of work fun.

Turning a corner, he paused to study some of the burn marks and holes created by various laser fire. He was surprised that repairs seemed to be behind, but that could’ve been for any number of reasons. So much the better for him. There was more than enough for him to gauge the extent of the battle. Or, at least, come up with a reasonable variation of events.

He ran a hand over one of the higher burn holes, using his fingers to measure the depth and amount of burn. Not bad. Not quite what I’d imagine our leader is capable of, so this must me another’s miss.

He felt his battlefield mentality finish slipping away as he withdrew his hand. He’d never been able to figure out why, but he couldn’t be around others when he was in a barrage-mindset. Despite it being the Decepticon way, he didn’t like walking around with a structure on his shoulder. It invited too many confrontations that he didn’t want to be involved with.

If he couldn’t bomb them, he didn’t attack. It was a simple philosophy.

Turning away from the scoring marks, he continued down the corridor, ready to relax with some energon and the company of his fellow ‘Cons. Ah, the joys of hearing others’ stories of wiping away the Autobot scourge. Nothing beat it.

He turned a corner and slowed at seeing a group of mechs a short distance away.

Four fellow Decepticons meeting here?

He pushed the thought aside. If they were holding a meeting, there were better places than in the middle of a corridor about to be crawling with repair droids.

My logic circuits must be fried after my mission. I’m starting to see conspiracies.

As he drew closer, he thought he remembered seeing them around before, but their names escaped him. Still, the tallest of the mechs (Dreadnaut) caught his attention. He was taller than Dessicator, but not by much. What Dessicaator thought the most impressive were his armaments.

A mech after my own spark.

Nodding to him, Dessicator then did the same to the others as he approached. “Nice hardware.”

[Deck 9 Corridors]

??? wrote:"There you are, brother. Who are your.. new acquaintances?"

It looks like Hazard had found his brother Doomshot. The Duocon (Battletrap) was standing beside him too. There looked to be a few other mechs nearby. The corridor was getting a bit crowded, especially with Dreadnaut's large size, but either way it was fine. He could manage.

Hazard's larger brother asked about him. He raised his hand in a small wave. "Dreadnaut," came the one-word reply out of his vocaliser. His amber optics glowed as the sound escaped his vocaliser.

??? wrote:“Nice hardware.”

The hulking mech turned himself to face the newcomer mech. "Likewise." He had a genuine smile behind his faceplate, but his optics could only show so much.

Noticing that the group had suddenly grown to be quite a few in number, Dreadnaut waved his arm, signalling everyone around to move so that the corridors wouldn't get cluttered up.

Deck 9- Corridors

"Megatron," came the one word out of the towering mech's vocaliser. "Megatron happened."

The mentioning of the Master Slag Maker made Hazard quake in his boots as a surge of chilling electricity ran down his circuitry. It lasted but a nano-klik but the intensity was still there, as his energon pump worked faster. Still, he held his gun steady by adding his other hand. It was no sooner though, that the large artillery vehicle mech signaled for Hazard to put his weapon away, and opened his impressive shoulder pods revealing missiles ready to be launched. As they rounded a corner, Dreadnaut gave a thumbs up of assurance. Hazard had tucked away his gun then, as was signaled. He liked this Dreadnaut guy, but he would hate to see him mad, that was for sure.


“So, he's back. I wonder what happened to him? And why did he wreck the ship? Whatever the reason, let's hope he's calmed down now.”, said Hazard. The concern was for everyone aboard the ship including himself, his brother, his new acquaintances, and Megatron too.

"Yes, I think Megatron. I heard something about him on return. Damage gives evidence. No noise now so maybe Megatron calm. Razorclaw and others know what to do."

Battletrap continued to look around for whoever they were trying to find.

"Have we found missing brother? My friend and Duocon Flywheels messaged me. He might join us later."

That made sense...the others in High Command would know what to do with Megatron to help him with whatever dilemma he had had when he displayed his battle prowess on the ship. However, before Hazard could reply to anything that
Battletrap had said, a very familiar mech came into view and approached the group with obvious relief and happiness.

”Hazard," said Doomshot with a slight smile, "There you are, brother. Who are your.. new acquaintances?"

“Doomy! Glad I finally found you...err...you found me!”, replied Hazard cheerily. It was good to be reunited. However, before he could talk more to his sibling, another, very large mech similar in size and make to Dreadnaut joined the group, and nodded to everyone in greeting before complimenting on the more hulking Dreadnaut’s hardware.

Hazard smiled towards the newcomer and waved briefly before returning his attention back to Doomshot, saying, “They're my new friends. They volunteered to help me find you.”, the small flier said, and he gestured towards each of them, Dreadnaut having introduced himself, so he skipped him, “And this is Battletrap, and….you are?”, he ended in question, turning towards the just arrived other humongous guy (Dessicator). This was quite a group. Hazard had never been in a group like this before, save for missions and on the battlefield fighting the enemy.

Deck-9-Corridors

Dreadnaut wrote: "Likewise."

Seeing the large mech looking pleased, pleased Dessicator, as did his return compliment. Over the vorns, he’d learned that despite being the true warriors of the Cybertronians, few Decepticon really appreciated real weapons, or the skill it took to use them.

Think I’ll like this mech.

When the one who spoke motioned for them to move, Dessicator paused for a astrosecond as he wasn’t sure if he was included or not. Any further concern was washed away when the yellow and purple mech (Hazard), who was well armed, too, asked him,

Hazard wrote: “And this is Battletrap, and….you are?”

Dessicator’s optics flared in surprise. It wasn’t often this happened, and he wished his mouth guard didn’t hide his… Well, that was something for another day.

Nodding, he answered, “Dessicator.” Glancing around, he couldn’t feel anything buy joy at finding what appeared to be like-minded mechs. Good thing that Autobot was in a hurry to die, or I would’ve missed this.

Decepticon Battlecruiser Thanatos- Corridors

Amethyst was unconscious, or rather in stasis temporarily. He wasn't aware of what had happened in the bar, as before he was knocked out by the dirtpounder he had been moving about in a dreamlike state in a drunken sleep. The generically painted Seeker had gotten seriously wasted on Engex. He wasn't a heavy drinker, and for good reason, it seemed. Without anyone to keep him in check, he could have potentially destroyed a good deal of the ship with his flamethrowers. Asleep near the kindred warrior Redwing, Amethyst looked quite peaceful now. In his deep inner consciousness, Amethyst thought about the past.

’I don't remember much about when I was created. However, I know I wasn't forged. There's quite a lot of mechs who look down on you for being made “cold”. Some of them have no room to talk. All I remember is waking up in a large room with a whole lot of other mechs who looked just like me, if not with a few minor differences. I knew some of them...Cobalt, Hellion, Jadewind, Osprey, Stormchill, Rubywing….we weren't the first batch of our kind but we were the last of those created by “more traditional means” on Cybertron, before spark splicing became a thing (a really dreadful thing). Regardless we were still M.T.Os. We were built to lay waste to the society that our forefathers built. We bombed the cities, toppled society, and destroyed the laws, the foundations...broke the wills of the populace, to build new order and infrastructure out of the ashes of death….glory to the Decepticons….Peace through tyranny.

I can't tell you how many battles I've fought in. I can't tell you how many corpses I've crushed beneath my foot after broiling their husks to nothing but brittle burntness. I can't tell you how many allies and enemies alike I've seen the light fade from their optics, or how many sparks I've extinguished. All I can tell you is it's a lot, and it never stops. I am a killer. I have guns and bombs attached to my chassis. I AM a weapon. I….just wonder sometimes….when will the peace ever come. Is it only found in times like this? It never lasts long. I’ll float here in subspace for a bit, but soon I must heed the call of battle again. When it calls, I will fly off to destroy my enemies in the best way I know how.’

He stirred. Everything felt like it weighed fifty tons more than usual. Had the Thanatos parked on a strange planet with an abysmal gravitational force? He struggled to move his servos and to lift his head. Finally his optics lit up a brilliant red. He slowly regained his ability to move normally, and turned to find the red Seeker asleep next to him. He smelled heavily of Engex. Amethyst didn't smell any better. Still, it seemed that Redwing had moved him down a hallway away from the bar. Had he gotten into trouble? He felt like laughing at that. ’Most likely.’, Amethyst thought to himself.

Sighing, Amethyst decided to return the favor. He crouched down and picked up Redwing, steadying him as much he could, and carrying him across one shoulder in the same way Redwing had carried him. From here, Amethyst took Redwing down further into the corridor and from there to a large elevator. He pushed a button for the lower levels of the ship and the elevator complied.

Barracks Lv 5

When it opened, Amethyst found himself in the barracks compound area he rested in. He ignored the other mechs playing games in the recreation room, and passed by them, going to his own room, which he shared with no one. Amethyst sat Redwing comfortably in a chair, while he himself lay down on his bed, and stared at the ceiling with a long sigh. He wondered how long it’d be now until new orders came. Maybe action is what he needed to clear his thought processors...

Deck-9-Corridors

Battletrap wasn't sure what to make of the group of Cons. It was strange to be accepted beyond Flywheels. With all of these new Cons Battletrap was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed. Then they were motioned to move out of the way to help keep the corridor clear.

"Maybe find big room now. We have good size group. Maybe relax in bar or somewhere? Good to meet new Cons. More room and time to connect?"

Thanatos- Corridors

The white armored femme grinned maniacally through pointed teeth at her prey. She moved in sync with the sway of battle, jumping back slightly to avoid the swipe of the canine mech’s shield. Her crimson gaze noticed the wound she’d inflicted on her opponent’s knee, and it only made her feel all the more better. This is what she loved, what she lived for! The thrill of a battle with a worthy opponent! It was like the days back in the pit fights of Kaon, before the collapse of their home planet.

She hissed and growled as another spray of ammo from his gun pelted into her armor. It had a lot of holes in it now. Some had gone deep, hitting wiring and tubing. Glowing pink liquid oozed out of the deepest holes. Still, she stood her ground, not backing away. This was the most fun she had had since awakening from her previously long slumber. How long had she slept in stasis? She honestly didn't know. Where were they? What was the agenda of the grand movement, of Lord Megatron? All of these things were unknown to her. However, she had no time to think about these things right now. The battle was all that mattered. She would show this one and any who challenged her, who was the superior predator. The great Cybertronian Liger was the embodiment of her primal rage, a perfect alt mode for a warrior such as she.

She glanced slightly over to the two who had arrived, the strange speaking wolf and the green and pink crocodile. She knew not who they were, nor did she care. She gave them the same fearsome glare as she did the winged canine one.

“Stop me if you can.”, she said coldly to them.

Following in suit with the other transforming back into his beast mode, so did she, returning to the hulking form of the large cat. She roared ferociously, and set off her scatter blaster in the direction of the winged wolf, screaming,

“I’ll show you a REAL glitch!”, and while firing, she jumped at him, springing herhead blades forward when in melee range, as well as the blades on her sides, while using her boosters to try and catch him off guard in a tremendous speed increase.

Re-Fueling bar

The energon felt good as it flowed down Thundercracker’s throat and into his core. He hadn’t had enough to become inebriated yet, or to help him think. There was too much going on for him to set it all aside, it seemed.

The camaraderie of his fellow Decepticons was on full display around him, yet he couldn’t bring himself to join in. It was an ongoing process on Skywarp’s part to break out of this cycle, though he had to admit his friend had become more understanding as the vorns passed. He was one of the few Thundercracker knew he could depend on. Starscream was another, though depending on him was a precarious balancing act since Starcream tended to look out for Starcream.

Maybe understand or predictable are better words for Screamer.

Of course, there were always the new recruits. The one called Redwing was a mech of a similar mindset, but he was too outspoken. He may have understood the problems of their ongoing war earlier than Thundercracker had, but he didn’t have the understanding or fear as to what could happen if the wrong mech heard him in the wrong situation.

I should have a talk with him, make him understand.

Thundercracker winced at his choice of the word “make.” I’m sounding like the others, now.

Downing the rest of his energon, he set the metallic cup aside and waved off the bartender before he could refill it. He needed to find another way to clear his processor, and he doubted if studying would be enough to work things out. If he ever could.

His decision made, he turned toward the door and sent a quick message to Skywarp.

>>Think I’ve had enough socializing for one day. I’m heading to the training room.<<

As the doors slid open, he wondered if he was glitching for getting back into physical activity so soon after a mission. Not sure I know anymore.

Uh.. what's.. going on..

"What are you doing, son?"

Fraggin.. what.. is that you, old mech?


Redwing stared up with his optics half-way shut at an old friend..


W..what happened.. I thought you were dead..

"What makes you think I am not?"

Wait.. i..is this a dream..?

"You've become what I never intended you to be. Drinking yourself away just as I found you."

B..but I'm fighting.. just as you taught me..

"But whose side are you fighting for? You want peace, but fight with those who destroy it?"

But the Primes.. they're ALL CORRUPT! What good side is there anymore? I chose the side that made me, and that's how I live.. how I survive.. And you.. you LEFT ME ALONE TO DIE! I have friends here.. And they don't leave me to die alone!

"How does one survive on his own without flying from the nest?"

You.. make no sense, old mech.

...

W..where did you go..

Come back..

I.. don't want to be alone..

N..not again..

please..

I'm sorry..

All Redwing's surroundings turned to black. He felt where he lay start to sink as a sheet held up by weak hands. He slowly started to fall until he was floating in a black void.

No.. not again..

please..

Not alone..

Not in the nothingness of space..



Redwing's optics slowly started to open, and he saw a faint glow of electric light from the cieling. He was laying in some sort of chair.

"W..what.. where am I.."

Redwing's optics opened more, and he saw the purple seeker Amethyst in front of him who he had previously scooped from the bar.

Redwing sat up and rubbed his cranium. It was really sore.

"Mh.. I.. don't know, maybe Offroad was right. Maybe we're all pointless weapons for higher-ups. One of us jam, and boom. Easily replaceable weapon."

Redwing looked up at Amethyst, "Oh wait.. you were knocked out at the time he said that. Eh, you didn't miss much."

In the lower reaches of the Thanatos- Barracks Level 5

Amethyst had been trying to relax as he lay on the platform in his room. He was still feeling hungover, like if he were to get up he'd hurl a great deal of internal fluids on the floor. However, at least his mind was clear enough after his sleep he'd had, to think. His own thoughts were soon broken though by mumbling from Redwing. He sounded like he was talking to someone.

Curious, the purple Seeker got up, though quickly regretting it. His gyros were all out of whack and his fuel pump squelched.

"Blegghh!!!", the sound was horrid. He barfed up excess energon on the floor. However at least after doing so, he felt a little better. "Uggghh...", he groaned. It was gross. He'd have to clean it up. However, Redwing had his full attention for now. If he had heard his mumbling correctly...as hard as it had been to hear it at all, Redwing suffered from loneliness.

The purple Seeker sighed. He knew all about feeling lonely. He was surrounded by so many, but he felt like a nobody. Those who had previously been close to him had already fallen in battle, while others gave him a wide berth, afraid Amethyst might explode at any time. That was why he had his own room to himself. His roommate had abandoned him. It didn't bother Amethyst all that much though...at least he didn't want to believe it did. He was used to being treated like that. What about Redwing? Would he ditch him too? Or...could they really become true comrades? Well...if Redwing was worried about being alone, Amethyst would make sure he wouldn't. Everyone deserved to have a friend of some sort....right? And...everyone was different in their own special way.....

Amethyst watched as Redwing stirred back out of his temporary stasis.

"W..what.. where am I.."

Redwing's optics opened more, and he saw the purple seeker Amethyst in front of him who he had previously scooped from the bar.

Redwing sat up and rubbed his cranium. It was really sore.

"Mh.. I.. don't know, maybe Offroad was right. Maybe we're all pointless weapons for higher-ups. One of us jam, and boom. Easily replaceable weapon."

Redwing looked up at Amethyst, "Oh wait.. you were knocked out at the time he said that. Eh, you didn't miss much."

Amethyst whinced a little and gritted his teeth at the mentioning of exploding and being replaced. It was one of his biggest fears. Still, he shook his head, dismissing the thought. Besides, he'd been proven wrong about his fear so far. As many times as Amethyst's weapons backfired on him, he was still here. Scrapper just recently replaced about half of Amethyst's body, and in no time. He was still a valuable member of the Decepticons....right?

Amethyst sighed a deep sigh, feeling a little lightheaded, and be replied, "You're in my sleeping quarters in the barracks. Nothing fancy....but It's something, right?! Listen Redwing....", he trailed off to gather his words before continuing. "I don't know what that Groundpounder told you guys, and sometimes I wonder what the big picture is too, but what is it all anyway? We're here. We do what we do when we need to do it. I make the most of it, and to be honest I'd rather be in the sky than crowded up in this tin can with a hundred guys who look all like me.", his voice sounded irritated. He grumbled under his breath and went to clean up the mess he'd made, locating some cleaning materials and fixing it before returning to Redwing.

"Sorry...I feel kind of sick. Anyways...Redwing, I know it might not mean a whole lot, but I don't want you to be alone. Don't feel like that, okay? I....I'll be here for you....till we meet our maker.", he said. His body felt horrid, but he felt a little better just by saying that. How would Redwing take it though?

"You're in my sleeping quarters in the barracks. Nothing fancy....but It's something, right?! Listen Redwing...."

Redwing responded, "Mm, nicer here than my room. The guys there leave messes and cover my berth all the time with scrap. Sometimes even leaked fluids, yuck. Beats being alone I guess, I don't know."

"I don't know what that Groundpounder told you guys, and sometimes I wonder what the big picture is too, but what is it all anyway? We're here. We do what we do when we need to do it. I make the most of it, and to be honest I'd rather be in the sky than crowded up in this tin can with a hundred guys who look all like me."

"Yeah, I'm kinda seen as a drunk I know sometimes, but it's more to pass the time away. These scrap Earth modes work well on planets with decently friendly atmospheres, but not in the void of space. Though I'd rather be in here than a dark abyss anyway."

Redwing shook a bit as he said the last few words. He was afraid of being alone and in the darkness of space. It was the worst way to die. He remembered one time being left from a ship and floating around in the dark blackness before being rescued as a dried up, dying husk of a seeker by a friendly Decepticon ship a while later. It was a horrid experience he wouldn't even wish onto an Autobot.

Redwing rubbed his sore cranium as Amethyst continued.

"Sorry...I feel kind of sick. Anyways...Redwing, I know it might not mean a whole lot, but I don't want you to be alone. Don't feel like that, okay? I....I'll be here for you....till we meet our maker."

Redwing perked up at what Amethyst had said. Friendships weren't exactly something Redwing had heard of before in the Decepticon ranks. Was he serious? Then again, it took two lonely mechs to make a strong friendship. Redwing wanted to have a real friend that didn't just stick around him because he was cool and could shoot, and mechs who wouldn't barf all over his berth especially.

"T- thank you, bud," Redwing said simply and nervously with a bit of a smile.

Re-fueling Bar

Feeling peace had finally been settled between him and Offroad, Thrust nodded as he picked up his refilled glass clinked it against Offroad’s before turning away, making sure his weapon remained at the ready should the dirtpounder try anything.

“Rest easy, warrior, your day will come when your reputation shall bring the respect of a Decepticon elite.” With that, Thrust turned to face the rest of the bar. He hoped that Offroad would understand what he meant this time. Not everyone was capable of such higher data processing.

He quickly scanned the bar, taking in the gathered mechs and their various levels of celebration. Most had quieted down now, meaning they needed something to get the energon flowing. As much as he hated to admit it, he was probably closer to Offroad following their brief altercation than the other Seekers in attendance, including Skywarp.

Why is that? Are they that intimidated by me? He glanced at Offroad, the one mech in the bar that hadn’t acted impressed or fearful. Perhaps he could change that? Until Ramjet and Dirge are around, I guess I have to accept the energon I’ve been dealt.

He glanced back at Offroad and smiled. “Come, warrior. Why not regale us with tales of your own exploits? I’m sure we would all love to hear of your exploits.”

Baracks Lv 5

The purple Seeker had listened intently to the red one. He had been left to drift out in space once? Where else would the fear of being in outer space come from? Who would do such a thing? His thoughts drifted and the smirking laughing visage of their “great leader” Starscream came to mind. Amethyst shuddered. Of course he didn't know, but he knew how cruel the Air Commander could be. He’d heard stories. Still, he looked up to him though for his cunning and strength. That didn't mean he could trust him though….

Amethyst sat back down on the edge of his metal bed, facing Redwing, sitting comfortably while he listened to him. He never felt this comfortable around anyone else before. What was so different about this one? Was it because they had things in common? Well...it wasn't a matter of like make. It was a matter of feelings and situations they both seemed to have dealt with similarly. In any case, if some jerks were puking all over his bed, Redwing had all the reason to beat the scrap out of them. Why hadn't he done so? If Amethyst saw them he’d light their afts on fire. Still, sharing a room with such nutcases wasn't healthy. And then….something happened that had really caught Amethyst off guard. The word “bud”. He’d never thought in millions of years would he ever be called a bud. Amethyst smiled sheepishly, clenching his fists. His knees felt weak...what was happening to him? Malfunction? Oh no! He quickly ran his diagnostics……...everything….checked out? A mystery was at hand. Only thing was his fuel pump was running much quicker than normal, and he felt like he was about to float away but he was grounded in his sitting position.

“Uhhh….ummm...b..bud.”, Amethyst stuttered. “I...like..th...that. Bud….”, he said, smiling sweetly. He’d never been this happy before...nope...not ever.

After a few more seconds to think, Amethyst said, “ You don't have to...ummm...go back to your old room...if you don't want to. There's an empty bed.”, he said, pointing to the one next to the one he was sitting on. The room was also mostly empty, as it was made for two or more mechs. If Redwing wanted to, he could move his things here. A friend….a friend….how wonderful…. Little did he know, his feelings of friendship ran deeper than common comradery.

Amethyst seemed flustered, but so did Redwing a bit. It wasn't something either of them were used to; that is, to have a real friend. Redwing smiled nervously when Amethyst reacted as he did to when Redwing had called him "bud". And then..

"W..wait.. You're good with that..?" Asked Redwing in responce to Amethyst offering him a better place to stay. Redwing was taught by friends and foes alike that compassion and friendliness weren't anything existent in the Decepticon faction, but Redwing felt something different about Amethyst.

"Thanks.. Bud," said Redwing in responce with a bit of a smile. Redwing had always lied to himself saying that he had friends amongst the Decepticons, but at this point he realised just how much he had forgotten what true friendship or even the start of it felt like. And Redwing couldn't feel happier and have more conflicting feelings inside of him than at this moment.

Redwing looked down sheepishly and took a large intake of air to cool his quickly pumping gas tank. His hands also started to jitter a bit. He started to wonder to himself about what being a seeker really meant for one's true inner nature. As in, would they all be the same roles or even have the same pronouns if they were forged by their sparks instead of having prebuilt bodies? Really, the pronouns referred to seekers had nothing to do with their structure but to do with their personalities. Same went for many cybertronians of common structure. Even Slipstream was a seeker that looked almost identical to the rest. Was being a seeker and having a conjux relation with another seeker truly tabboo? Was it really wrong, or could they have been that way if they were forged differently with the same sparks?

"Amethyst.. I haven't ever asked anyone this before, but.. What do you think you would be like if you were forged? Honestly, the only parts of us that aren't premade are our sparks. I sometimes wonder what I would look or sound like if I were forged. Heh, sometimes I wish I could chose whatever structure or voice I want. Then again, if I had that option, I would have too many choices to chose from."

Shockwave's Laboratory

“Of course, Lord Megatron. If you have no objections, my liege, I will take charge of locating and extracting the Ore-13. Once a sizable deposit has been found, my Predacons and I will take a vehicon mining crew down to the planet and extract it ASAP,” Razorclaw said.

Megatron appreciated the initiative. Perhaps he had been too selective in his use of Razorclaw and his associated warlords in vorns past. It was clearly time to amend that thinking--time to use them to accomplish a wider variety of goals. Razorclaw undoubtedly understood how critical the ore-13 would be to advancing their cause. There would be no finer opportunity for him to prove it.

"See it done," Megatron said, before Sixshot picked up an obvious hanging thread.

“So, um, what do you need me to do exactly, my lord? I would love to help drag Starscream back here kicking and, well, screaming, but something tells me Onslaught and his brood have that covered well enough. I guess I could simply remain here as a security measure to make sure that you don’t lose control again. Whatever you need of me, Lord Megatron, I am at your disposal.”

"That you are," Megatron said, turning to face the warrior who had been one of Megatron's select few beneficiaries of the Warriors Elite upgrade process, the process that ultimately created the small number of Decepticon who could successfully execute Phase Six on any world where the infiltration protocols had reached their natural endpoint. They were some distance from reaching that point with this world, but that did not mean Sixshot did not have his uses. Far from it.

Before Megatron addressed the issue, however, Flamewar had thoughts of her own for the Slagmaker to consider.

“While having you as a security measure is not a bad idea, we should prioritize advancing infiltration protocol. To that end, I suggest engaging in calculated strikes on regions that our facsimiles have made vulnerable. We can divert the Autobots from our Ore-13 operations while advancing our agenda. I know it’s not conventional to use Sixshot until Phase Six, but if he can reign in some of his more destructive tendencies, I believe he will be a powerful deterrent to any Autobot interference. Additionally...when we’re ready to move onto Phase Four, forming false alliances with a faction of the native inhabitants would prevent the Autobots from marshalling any support in the later phases. Of course, the final decision as rests with you as it rightfully should, my lord.”

Flamewar's analysis was thorough and her recommendations well-reasoned. Again, just as Megatron would have expected.

"To that end, it's time to push this strategy into Phase Three. With the facsimiles in place, Razorclaw hunting the ore and Shockwave preparing to cyberform the remains of this world, there's no reason for us to confine ourselves to this ship when this world is so ripe for exploitation."

Megatron stepped away from the medical berth and approached a terminal. Through it, he began access the media of Sol-3, thousands of images and flash-forwarded reports flickering past his crimson optics. With his other hand, he then brought up a holographic globe. It spun around slowly before highlighting the Terran nation of Syria and several surrounding countries.

"This area of the humans world is rife with conflict and ripe with opportunity. The perfect location from which to stoke the flames of this already war-torn civilization. We will continue our work here. Flamewar, ready an extended infiltration unit. We head for the hangar," Megatron said, before disconnecting the link and headed for the exit to the laboratory.
___

“Shockwave, have you already detected any deposits of the ore yet? If so, I will need you to provide me with a list of the largest ones so that I can get the mission underway sooner rather than later,” Razorclaw said.

"Declarative, I will send all of the data I procured from Starscream's initial forays directly to you."

Before matters between he and Motormaster could escalate any further, Megatron put the matter to rest. Shortly thereafter, Motormaster provided them with an appropriate update.

”I have sent the word. The rest will be here shortly.”

"Satisfactory," Shockwave said. Before Megatron fully left the confines of the laboratory, he stopped beside Motormaster.

"For some reason, Motormaster, you see this boon as a weight to be carried. The gestalt you will become is no burden. Rather, it is a new weapon for you to use to crush our enemy. I hope to undergo the process myself, one day. Imagine! An entire vanguard of such warriors laying waste to the last Autobot defenses in the universe, separating and crushing whatever remains. I will give you the power to plunge your sword directly into the spark of Omega Supreme and rip it out. Do not let your misgivings cloud the profound opportunity being laid before you," Megatron said, giving one final nod of understanding between the two before taking his leave of the laboratory.