The Energon Pub

Hangar

Warwolf brought out another crate from Misfire's supply freighter and off loaded it next to a pile of charred, dismembered, and non functioning vehicons and seekers. He dropped the crate filled with a varied assortment of weaponry and stared down at the lifeless chassis of the fallen Decepticon warriors.

"Some warriors." Warwolf coldly stated with a huff. At least it was these fools and not the ones who were smart enough to refrain from joining in on the power struggle like he was. Survival of the fittest and that whole shebang. Though he pondered for a moment about what would have happened if he had joined in the fight for the Decepticon crown.

"Warwolf: Supreme Commander of the Decepticons"... Nah, didn't sound right. Besides, knowing the amount of backstabbing underminers stalking the corridors of this ship, his fantasized time as the leader would be greatly short-lived.

"You could have taken them. No, WE could have taken them all. Then we could have ruled over these fools better than Megatron or Gangplank ever could have DREAMED to."

Warwolf ignored the thought his feral side was trying to convey to him, it was just another attempt to try and escape and take control of his body once again. He noted how well Flamewar's lessons in bettering his self control were paying off. Normally a thought like that would usually have him on his knees, struggling to fight back the horrific thoughts. Now, he's able to just shake away some of the smaller thoughts the feral side uses to try and unleash itself with, like the last one there.

He returned to thinking again on the what it would have been like if he had partaken in the Decepticon power struggle. Even if he went feral, he knew he wouldn't have been able to handle the might of every Decepticon focusing their attention on him, let alone going toe-to-toe with a single warrior like Starscream or Shockwave. They would have been able to utilize his bloodthirsty blindness to their advantage. Warwolf wouldn't have been able to last half a breem against someone with that amount of power. He'd be lucky to be able to withstand a single shot from Shockwave's signature arm-cannon, or Starscream's Null Rays. Oh well, the fighting was behind them now.

"Misfire!" The interrogator called out to the interceptor as he broke from his stare at the piled-up corpses of Decepticons in the hangar, "Hurry up! We're expected to have already been in the Med Bay as of yesterday! Let's pick up the pace!"

Thanatos Outside med bay

The slightly smaller fem moved over to Crueljaw and deftly shouldered one of her wounded over to his broader shoulder. The movement seemed to bring the mech to semi life as the burly decepticon followed Flamewar and Shadowing back into the medical bay the mech over his shoulder started to squirm more and more. The decepticon strode back into the medical bay he’d just left the mech over his shoulder was growing more and more restless.

Crueljaw noted Brawl and Motormaster’s arrival but his passenger was getting more and more restless “Will you knock it off” Crueljaw emphasised the point with a thump to the mechs back before he slammed the mech onto the medical bench. Peering around the medical bay Crueljaw noted Landgrab talking to the failures in front of Shockwaves CR chamber. Further over was Brawl and Motormaster brawl was shoving a medic Motormaster’s way. Crueljaw didn’t like her odds if she messed up the repair job.

Now that the situation had calmed down Crueljaw allowed his mind to wander. How would the fierce Predacon Commander Razorclaw cope with the powerful personalities, that where yet to resurface with the main fleet. Scorponok would surely have a say on this and in Crueljaw’s opinion, the Predacon would be lucky survive a fight with the gargantuan decepticon. Mind you the rest of the Phase six decepticons where out there waiting to return. Then there was the fate of Megatron himself assuming he was dead would be a grave mistake, the Slag Maker was nothing if persistent at returning from certain death, thou space bridge malfunctions could bounce you across the galaxy in pieces. So many variables that the Predacon must be thinking about which was giving Crueljaw a processor ache just attempting it.

His attention was brought back to the present and the mech he’d placed on the medical bay who started groaning as a droid began its repairs.

A swift right cross off lined the mech “I told you to shut up”

Bridge

Magnus' words caused an almost involuntary stiffening of Onslaught's limbs. It was apparent that Ultra Magnus, either intentionally or otherwise, did not appear to fully grasp the concept of a "neutral" location. The very fact that he had selected it already threw the concept of neutrality out the window in Onslaught's view. But he also believed Magnus' initial statement. Surely the Autobots were not so stupid as to try and waste this fragile alliance they had constructed by attempting to lure the new Decepticon leadership into some kind of trap.

>>"It's good that you realize that. As you have selected the location, you will send the coordinates as well as a roster of Autobots who will be in attendance. Any deviation from this will be taken as an act of aggression. We will tailor our response accordingly. Onslaught out."<<

Onslaught signaled for the link to be cut immediately and stood in silence for a moment, processing the situation and the upcoming moves that would need to be taken, not only to ensure that they did not fall prey to some sort of ill-timed Autobot trap, but also deal with the frightening prospect of surviving whatever the Fallen had in store for them.

He then looked to the others on the bridge, Soundwave in particular but not exclusively.

"What information do we have on the previous duty assignments of those whom the Fallen has taken?"

At this stage, Onslaught was not sure what he was looking for. But that was the primary reason behind why he wanted any and all information about Drag Strip and Darkride and what they had been involved in as of late, on the off chance there was some spark of revelation in the Fallen's choosing them over a multitude of--in Onslaught's estimation--superior candidates if extinction of a species was indeed the primary objective. There had to be something he was not seeing. And for that reason he would keep looking.

Engine Room

For the most part the room was quiet, save for the continual hum of the quantum generators. The room was dark; there was no need for lights since there was no crew members stationed there. So when the brief flash of bright white light flooded the entire room no one saw it.

In an instant the light had vanished but in its wake stood a tall fiery Transformer. Optics a red blaze the mech scanned the room to ensure that it was in fact alone. When it was satisfied that there would be no witnesses it stepped forward.

The room was bathed in shadows. But when the blaze engulfed being moved the darkness was swallowed. The walls became bathed in an intense glow of flame.

The Fallen, the myth that walked amongst its brethren, stopped. He stood before one of the many quantum generators that powered the ship’s engines. The corners of his lips pulled up forming a devilish smile.

I can hear your thoughts. I know what you’re doing and it won’t work.

The host seemed to believe he would fail.

I’m glad you believe so. I will prove you wrong, however.

The ancient Prime switched off his optics and reached out to his Heralds. The powers the Master had graced him with offered infinite possibilities; instantaneous movement was but one of them. From his place deep within the bowels of the Decepticon battle cruiser he could still sense his chosen. They were in place and already working to disable the Autobot ships. Excellent.

A satisfied sigh escaped the fiery Prime’s sealed lips. His optics lit as he reached into a subspace compartment. He gripped his command staff, raising it high. And with a fierce battle cry he swung away. The generator before him was sliced deeply enough to cause circuits to fry, metal to bend and wires to melt.

After the first generator was rendered disabled he repeated the process with the remaining generators.

The room, although lit only by the flames engulfing The Fallen’s body, was nearly bright as day thanks to the destruction of the Thanatos' engines.

They’ll fix them. They’ll fix them and they’ll leave.

Yes. They will fix them, but not before they face me. This little visit was to get their attention. The destruction of their engines will have a twofold effect; it will strand them and get their attention.

If the Autobots don’t defeat you then the ‘Cons surely will.

A wide predatory smile formed on the ancient one’s face.

I welcome them to try.

The voice in his head grew quiet leaving him with a full clear mind. He made his way to a nearby terminal and patched into the ship’s PA and video systems.

>> “Greetings Cybertronians. I offer you one final opportunity to surrender so that you may die with dignity. You cannot run. You cannot hide. You shall die. That is a promise."<<

There was a pause before The Fallen stepped slightly to one side revealing his location within the ship.

>> “You will be staying here for the foreseeable future."<<

And just as suddenly as his message and visage appeared it was gone. Left in its place, on every terminal was a set of coordinates. The Fallen’s chosen battle ground…Australia, Uluru.

“Come. Come to me so that I may erase you from existence," he spoke aloud to himself.

Med Bay

Landgrab. That made sense now, when Flywheels thought about it. He might not have remembered the Decepticon's entire name, but at least he'd gotten half of it right. Half was better than nothing, even though half a name in his possession still had not helped encourage Flywheels into recalling it in full.

Oh well. Half was better than nothing, regardless of what anybody had to say about it.

How could you not remember such a simple name, brother? Please, spin your idiocy into an amusing piece of fiction and do tell me.

Even if that anybody included Scarab.

How? Just how? His name only contains two syllables. Two.

Despite the amount of times this type of situation occurred – Scarab coming at Flywheels for the pettiest of reasons – there was no enduring it with a stoicism Flywheels wished he had. No matter how slight, there was always a betrayal of movement: a frown, a raised optic ridge, a twitch. Usually, these movements would go unnoticed by those conversing with Flywheels – thank Primus – as he did his best to incorporate these reactions into the interactions he had with his comrades.

Now was one of those occasions, and the relief Flywheels felt proved to be incredible.

“You and Battletrap were projects of Shockwave too right? Before he made the triple-changers?”

Until that happened. Until that was asked.

So much for keeping up the charade as a normal 'Con. Landgrab, it appeared, already knew of Flywheels's origins. Fantastic.

“Something like that, yeah,” Flywheels said. “And sort of like Triple Changers, too, only we... uh... transform differently.”

He didn't want to reveal a single thing, for fear that understanding would strike Landgrab and he'd know that Flywheels was one of them. A Duocon. A weirdo with two personality components residing inside of his robotic form. Because the vast majority of his fellow Decepticons didn't take too kindly to the more eccentric of their kind.

Med Bay

"I see Crueljaw. Very good." Replied Shadowing in a professional manner as he continued to move towards the Med Bay. "Any reports on how long it will be before the repairs are complete?"

As he spoke to Crueljaw he continued his private communication to Flamewar.

"I wish they had already found out and where here. The quicker that this power struggle is resolved the better it will be for the cause."

He thought about what she said for a moment.

"Your goal is a noble one but how do you intend to achieve it?

Hangar

Misfire scrambled to keep up with Warwolf's instructions. He loaded as many munitions as he could and followed suit to the med bay.

Being ordered around by another 'Con... nothing new there, but this time it seemed he was being forcibly brought under Flamewar's wing, after abandoning her to back the wrong side a few times too many. Surely she was just going to get some use out of him while the Decepticon forces were low and vulnerable, and then be finished.

Still, Misfire had his bargaining chip and gave it to her. Maybe that'd be enough to buy his life. Or maybe it'd be the last thing he did before he was quietly snuffed out.

Well, at least he wasn't scrap yet. He knew the layout of the ship from the med bay to the hangar, and figured he could at least outrun Flamewar and her violent protege if they decided he'd outlived his usefulness.

For now, he hauled the weapons... waiting...

-

Med Bay

What was wrong with this level? Bitstream couldn't comprehend it at all. He was aboard a warship, but it was so heavily populated with non player characters it might as well have been a polis. Several of them were injured and undergoing repairs, undoubtedly to save on the system memory by limiting the dialogue in the area.

But it was nonetheless an incredibly vivid recreation, to such an extent he wondered why none of the other in-game warships had such large crews and such vivid interiors. Maybe this was an important one...

...and then he saw it, emblazoned over the entrance to the medical rooms. The Decepticon sigil; quite possibly the most famous symbol Cybertron had ever created. The remnants of a movement he'd once joined, and eventually been forced to stamp out.

He was no longer among neutral, peaceful Cybertronians. He was aboard a ship of dangerous, unpredictable warmongers. Warmongers he'd rather famously betrayed.

Yet they hadn't attacked him... was it some sort of pirate ship? Some displaced remnants seeking to overthrow him? Bitstream weighed the options as he passed the various Decepticons walking into the med bay, transporting their wounded.

He could not recall how he'd started this level... this jarring transition meant another jump forward in time, another abrupt change like several before. Whatever time period he'd come to, the ghosts of the past had come back to haunt him...

...including Senator Shockwave, laying in a recharge slab. Shockwave had been even more difficult than Megatron for him to stop; the former senator was tricky; conniving. Unlike the corrupt Nominus Prime and the gladiator from Tarn, Shockwave had eluded him for centuries, until Bitstream finally defeated him, nearly at the cost of Cybertron himself. Bitstream had seen him perish... yet... here he was, being rebuilt.

Fear welled in his spark. Real fear, like he'd not felt since that battle with the monstrous scientist. This was a challenge he had not anticipated... the return of his greatest foe.

Bitstream saw a female standing vigil over Shockwave. He did not recognize her, but she wore the brand of the Decepticons... and the others in the med bay cowered in fear in her presence.

"So here lies Senator Shockwave," Bitstream observed. "I defeated him once before... and he would return to take Cybertron away from me again."

No response prompts. Still something wrong with his HUD, that the npcs did not react.

"You Decepticons may believe you can reclaim Cybertron, but I will defend it with all my might." Bitstream pledged. "If you will but lay down your arms I will welcome you back to my regime, and grant you the freedom that is your right."

Still no reaction. Clearly he needed to inspire them further.

"I offer you peace through ingenuity, freedom to express at your Prime's heel," Bitstream assured them. "And whatever Senator Shockwave has promised you, I assure you he means only to destroy what I have built! What you could inherit under my leadership!

"I assure you, my fellow Cybertronians, my rule is just..." Bitstream continued. "I will welcome you back to the fold, and together we will stand at the center of a united, peaceful empire!"

He waited. He'd built up sufficient reputation points. Convincing insurgents to stand down would only bolster that stat further. Without Shockwave to rally them, they'd see the wisdom of his words...

...he turned to their female leader and waited for her reply.

-

While outside the delusion, Flamewar, still keeping vigil over Shockwave, heard the ravings of a clearly malfunctioning Seeker.

Hangar

Weirdwolf transformed back into his robot mode as Skullcruncher lifted the wounded Decepticons off of his back. He lifted his hand to his faceplate in a cursory movement, tracing the gouges that Rampage had left him with in their skirmish.

His attention, however, soon returned to his friend as he scooped up a batch of the injured in his excavator arm. Absentmindedly, Weirdwolf picked up two of the injured Decepticons from Skullcruncher's initial pile and tossed them aboard, being a little mindful of how roughly they landed as his mind wandered.

"Yes, yes, know I your preference for the taste of Autobot steel," Weirdwolf said, "Prefer I to hunt them as well as opposed to our brethren. Hun-Gurr...Think you he and Scorponok fare well? Here were they wish I. Spared this madness we might have been."

Weirdwolf tossed on a couple more Decepticons onto Skullcruncher. "Over it is at least," Weirdwolf added as he tossed even more injured onto Skullcruncher. At that moment, the PA systems crackled to life and an image appeared on the available screens - at least the ones that hadn't been damaged by the fighting.

>> “Greetings Cybertronians. I offer you one final opportunity to surrender so that you may die with dignity. You cannot run. You cannot hide. You shall die. That is a promise."<<

There was a pause before The Fallen stepped slightly to one side revealing his location within the ship.

>> “You will be staying here for the foreseeable future."<<

"Ghhn...Too soon it seems spoke I..." Weirdwolf growled. As the image flickered out to be replaced by coordinates, the tracker whirred into motion again piling up more bodies onto Skullcruncher.

((More later.))

Corridors - En Route to Med Bay

Warwolf followed behind Misfire with a crate filled with standard weapons loaded into his arms that could be easily used to rearm the foot-soldiers of the Decepticon war efforts. His walking slowly transcended into a gentle stop as he took notice of one of the hall-mounted video screens. The screen lit up with short wave of static and the PA systems of the ship buzzed and cracked with life once again.

>> “Greetings Cybertronians. I offer you one final opportunity to surrender so that you may die with dignity. You cannot run. You cannot hide. You shall die. That is a promise."<<

"What now? Who's this guy?" Warwolf asked Misfire as he set the crate down on the flooring of the ship's corridor.

>> “You will be staying here for the foreseeable future."<<

"Was that the- Noo...It can't be..." Warwolf muttered aloud. The Fallen...Just the name sent a shiver down his spinal wiring.

What was he doing here? How did he get here? And what does he mean by-

His thought was cut off as the ship began to rumble and sway as the Fallen made his move and disabled the engines of the mighty battlecruiser. Oh scrap this is bad...Really, REALLY bad. The interrogator figured someone ought to run down and scope the place out, see if anyone was still lurking in there. He didn't hear anyone begin to issue orders to the engineers yet, probably all afraid of the horrifying figure just finished stealing the PA system.

>>"Warwolf to Flamewar,"<< He began as he opened a comm to his mentor, >>"Don't know if you heard anything over the PA systems yet, but we've a situation is the engine room. I'm gonna take Misfire and check it out, hopefully try and stop whatever mess we've gotten into from escalating beyond our control. Warwolf out."<<

The lupine mech turned back to the maroon interceptor. "Set the weapons down, we got more important things on our plate now." With that he shifted into his 3-headed wolf of an alt mode and began rushing off towards the engine room of the ship. He prayed he wouldn't have to deal with the Fallen himself at the moment, at least not by himself...

Corridors

With both Thunderwing, and now his one femme fanbase finally out of the way, Starscream began to relax. But only just slightly. It would do no good to let his guard completely down. There were others that would be willing to do anything to see to it that he be eliminated.

He would have to watch his back. And how else could one watch ones back without the help of subordinates? Starscream smirked as he walked down the corridor to his intended destination.

While handling his latest obstacles in Thunderwing and Blackwind, the Seeker Commander finally received a response to a subspace message that he had sent while still stationed on the mudball below. “I suppose it’s better late than never,” he mumbled to himself.

As he walked he thought of his meeting spot. It would be in a deserted local onboard the ship. No reason to raise any alarms that he would be otherwise occupied for the time being. Privacy was paramount.

Starscream regarded his chronometer. With a smile on his face he quickened his pace. This would be a very memorable get together.

Knockout’s Lab

Nightraven squeezed Skywarp’s hand a little tighter while flashing the known prankster a coy smile. She was still uncertain about this whole whatever it was she was involved in with Skywarp, but the purple Seeker was attentive and concerned for her wellbeing and that was certainly something. To Nightraven, and to those possibly around him, Skywarp was a completely different mech while in her presence. Was that a good thing? She wasn’t sure, but there was no reason why she couldn’t sit back and find out.

She loosened her hold on his hand and carefully shifted so she was in a more comfortable position. Nightraven halted her movements when the sound of Ultra Magnus’ voice filtered through the PA systems. “I don’t know. Maybe those guys in the hangar finally killed one another and someone was left standing.”

The femme moved slowly and slid off the slab. She grabbed hold of Skywarp’s forearm trying to steady her. Once she was stable Nightraven looked to Knockout who was currently still polishing his equipment while glaring at the two ‘Cons through blood crimson optics.

Nightraven sent a sneer in the mechanic’s direction and then turned her attention back to Skywarp. “Maybe we should take a walk back to the hangar. But just for a look. You know, to get a better idea of what happened.”

After half an astrosecond she took a step forward but stopped. “Maybe walking isn’t such a super idea,” she said as she placed the tips of her fingers to her temple. She was still a bit unsteady. Very gently Nightraven removed her hand a shook her head. “How about you…” she began but cut herself off when the PA system and video feeds were replaced by a new voice and a new picture.

Leaning toward the nearest terminal Nightraven took in the mech that filled the screen. “Is it me or is that bot on fire?”

>> “Greetings Cybertronians. I offer you one final opportunity to surrender so that you may die with dignity. You cannot run. You cannot hide. You shall die. That is a promise.<<

Nightraven turned slightly so she could see Skywarp. The fiery bot had moved revealing his location…the engine room…on their own ship! “How…” she was cut off.

>> “You will be staying here for the foreseeable future."<<

The message was cut leaving behind a set of coordinates. “Okay. What was that all about?

Med Bay

The look Breakdown had given her tickled the Orbitoclast to near hysterics. Here was a mech willingly giving him to her. It was almost too good to be true. As she watched him she began to bounce gently on her toes.

The excitement was palpable. She wanted so much to rummage through the Stunticon’s head. To find out what made him tick…and what didn’t. The thought set free a stifled laugh. So much fun to be had; so very little time.

And then it was over. Orbitoclast reared back when Brawl showed up and decked her new toy. She looked down at Breakdown and back up to the large Combaticon. Now there was a ‘Con who needed a head-job. Her thoughts died there and she let out a startled yelp of her own when the green ‘Con grabbed and dragged her to Motormaster’s bedside.

The Stunticon Commander looked like the Pit. He would need some extensive work, but nothing the surgeon couldn’t handle. She looked back at Brawl once he had finished barking out his orders. “Of course,” she smiled. “I’ll have him up and barreling down the roads in no time.” Orbitoclast nodded to the Combaticon and then turned back to Motormaster. “Time to make you perfect again.”

Without another moment’s hesitation Orbitoclast grabbed several tools and began her work.

Med-Bay

“Something like that, yeah. And sort of like Triple Changers, too, only we... uh... transform differently."

Landgrab nodded.

"Nice."

Then he looked around. He wasn't really sure what else to say. He wasn't exactly good at this whole small talk thing. Or any talk. Following orders. That was much simpler.

"So..."

But before he could get anything else out, he heard it. Heard a voice that he was sure he never wanted to hear again.

"We're gonna die."
___

Breakdown sat on the metallic floor, rubbing his cranium.

"You slag-faced, pitwiper," the Stunticon growled in the lowest tones he could manage and still get the words out. In other circumstances he might've just attacked the Combaticon anyway, no matter who he was. But not after the beating he had already gone through. And it was Brawl, after all. The results would not have been good.

Breakdown's jaw dropped when he saw the condition Motormaster was in though.

"Oh shi-" Breakdown blurted, before covering his vocalizer, his optics still wide in amazement. He couldn't wait to tell the other Stunticons about this.

That was until everything else started to go to hell.
___

::EMERGENCY OVERRIDE PROCEDURES ACTIVATED::

The CR chamber that currently contained the body of the Military Operations Commander hissed and reopened, dumping the cycloptic Decepticon onto the floor of the med bay. His repairs were not completed by any stretch, that much would be painfully obvious from a cosmetic standpoint. But in the event of a shipwide catastrophe or anything perceived to be similar by the onboard systems, Shockwave had calculated a higher chance of functioning outside the vulnerabilities present in a cryonic regeneration chamber.

::CORE SYSTEMS LOADING--CHECKING FOR UPDATES::

Shockwave began to push himself up from the ground until he was on his knee joints and then finally one knee before he began a visual assessment of his current remaining exterior and interior damages. There were plenty, but nothing that would risk destroying both himself and his immediate surroundings if they were not managed. With suitable mobility in tact, all else was secondary. He would tend to them later. Whatever had prompted his ejection from the CR chamber, it had to be serious.

"Interrogative--status?" the purple mech asked of any Decepticon in his vicinity.
___

Bridge

Onslaught had been in the midst of formulating his next step when it seemed like everything was suddenly cut out from under him. Every diagnostic sensor on the bridge suddenly flashed red, critical messages on every display port indicating that massive damage had just been inflicted within the ship's engine room.

"What in Primus' name...?" Onslaught gaped behind his faceplate as he approached one of the terminals for a closer examination. It wasn't long before he had his answer, staring directly at him on the primary bridge viewscreen.

>>“Greetings Cybertronians. I offer you one final opportunity to surrender so that you may die with dignity. You cannot run. You cannot hide. You shall die. That is a promise."<<

The Fallen.

Here?

The likelihood that they would become one with the Allspark suddenly became exponentially more likely.

>>“You will be staying here for the foreseeable future."<<

Onslaught was only barely able to turn his gaze away from the image of the rumored lost member of the Thirteen to confirm that, indeed, the ship had been altogether crippled.

"Vortex, I want a visual assessment of the engine room. Tactical response," he said before looking to the others on the bridge. "And I want the Constructicons recalled immediately. I don't care what they're doing or where they're doing it. And get an analysis of those coordinates that the Fallen seems so eager for us to follow. NOW! Move!"

Med-Bay

"What now?" Shadowing asked himself as he saw the communication. As he watched the message be delivered he could not help if all that Autobot propaganda that the Decepticons where acting against the will of Primus had turned out to be true after all. It certainly seemed as if the divine had decided to punish them.

He turned to see Shockwave emerge from his chamber and then slowly rising from the ground. As irritated as he was with him, this was the first bit of good news he has had in some time. They needed experienced leadership right now. He moved over to Shockwave and held out his hand to help him fully to his feet.

"Events Report:

One: Razorclaw claimed leadership after defeating Thunderwing. Proper order has not been established yet however.

Two: Shortly afterwards we were contacted by an Autobot vessel. Ultra Magnus requested to converse with us so it can only be assumed he is in command.

Third: A ship wise communication had been sent by a being claiming to be the Fallen. It seems the communication was sent from within this ship itself."

After helping Shockwave to his feet he withdrew the tablet he often used for reports from one of the containers on his side. He had downloaded a copy of the transmission from his own memory banks and played it for Shockwave for him to see.

As he did so he could not help but wonder at how cool and calculated he suddenly turned as he spoke to Shockwave. All the frustration and anger in his systems were put aside. He supposed that working with Shockwave so closely and for as long as he had would change anyone like that.

The Sol System - Approaching Earth Orbit

The Decepticon star fighter passed by the planet designated as Sol-4 without so much as a sidewards glance or scan. It was a red, dead world and clearly not the intended destination. The signal he had received some time ago had come from Sol-3, or Earth as the human inhabitants called it. It had taken a good deal of time to traverse from one part of the galaxy to the other as this backwater world was quite out of the way. As it were, the planet wasn’t much farther ahead now. Soon he would unleash the full might of his power and fury on that unsuspecting blue orb. It would be as countless times before and countless times to come after. At least the isolation and emptiness he felt would soon come to a glorious end. Hopefully, he would encounter someone that could match his strength and abilities, but he doubted it very much. He would likely come across the same Autobot lackeys as he always did if they weren’t already dead. They fell in battle way too easily. It was hardly a challenge for him, but at least the carnage and destruction would make him feel alive again after waiting for so long.

The star fighter sped up its pace, leaving Sol-4 far behind as the third planet from this sun appeared in the distance forward. It was a dot at first but as time passed it grew larger and larger, revealing not only a blue and green world but a singular dead, grayish moon, as well. It was near said moon that he detected the presence of the Decepticon warship Thanatos along with another smaller frigate, designated the Obliteration, floating nearby. His outward sensors indicated that the well-known Combaticon vessel was vacant with the exception of a vehicon skeleton crew that had been left behind. The Thanatos, on the other hand, appeared to have a full compliment of Decepticons on board. It made sense as it was the larger and more prestigious ship. Perhaps Megatron had ordered everyone to gather there to prepare for the next phase. Since that was the likely scenario, he would check there first.

Thanatos - Hangar Bay

Having sent his personal beacon to the Thanatos in order to avoid being fired upon, the star fighter arched downwards towards the primary hangar bay and swiftly passed through the force field, which kept the void of space out and everything else in. The fighter glided near the hangar floor before transforming into robot mode and landing with a solid, heavy clank. The massive Decepticon stood tall, towering over what vehicons and other Decepticons were still mulling about. He glanced around the large room and noticed the considerable amount of damage that had been sustained within along with the inert forms of several vehicons that had yet to be taken for repairs. A battle of some kind had clearly happened here. He scanned the vicinity for any Autobot signatures but found none. That was rather odd. Perhaps they were already gone or killed. What was even more odd was how in Primus would an Autobot contingent get on board a warship like the Thanatos? It didn’t seem possible or make any sense.

It was then that he noticed the presence of Blast-Off nearby. The space warrior was loading a hover cart with the deactivated bodies of vehicons and other Decepticon warriors who had fallen in this recent melee. The massive ‘Con focused his attention on the much smaller Combaticon and approached him with great interest. “You, what happened here?”

Blast-Off, his back to the newcomer, finished lifting another off-lined vehicon into the cart before he responded. “What’s it look like happened? There was a battle.”

“Yes, I can see that,” the large mech replied as his enormous shadow cast down over the space warrior. “Where are the Autobots now? Were they defeated?”

“Autobots? No no there were no....” Blast-Off began as he turned around to see only the midsection of the huge mech that was now in front of him. The space warrior took a hard gulp and slowly glanced up to see who it was, his optics widening at the terrifying sight. “I...I...what are you doing here?!?” The small Combaticon carefully backed away until his aft section bumped up against the hover cart.

“Oh, I see, you think you’re in a position to ask me questions,” the newcomer responded with a slight chuckle, looking down on the insignificant Combaticon insect. “Okay, fine. I’ll play along. If you must know, I received a signal from Lord Megatron, one I’ve received thousands of times before, and as always I have now responded. Only, I am greeted with a hangar full of deactivated bodies and carnage strewn about. I’m not sure what happened here. I just know I’m sorry that I missed it.”

“Megatron? No, that’s impossible. You couldn’t have received a signal from him,” Blast-Off assured the newcomer.

“Why is that?”

“Well, um, because he’s dead.”

“What?!” The powerful mech swiftly grabbed ahold of the space warrior and lifted him up to optics level. “Impossible! The slagmaker can no sooner be killed than I can! There must be a mistake.”

“I’m...uh...afraid not,” the frightened Blast-Off responded as his frame shook from head to foot. “In fact, the battle that took place here was for the throne.”

The newcomer’s optics widened is disbelief. “Really? You mean Decepticons fought other Decepticons?” He glanced around the room again in shock, taking in more of the damage this time before bringing his attention back on his Combaticon rag doll. “Who won?”

“Um, Razorclaw. He beat both Shockwave and Thunderwing.”

“The Predacon Commander?! You’re kidding me right? Please tell me this is some kind of joke!”

“Um, no it’s not. I can assure you,” Blast-Off replied, sheepishly, as he continued to hang in the newcomer’s grip and shake more violently with each passing astrosecond.

“This is not what I expected when I first received the signal,” the 44-foot mech muttered, not really responding to the space warrior. “This all must be a mistake or some kind. If Megatron is really dead then who sent the signal? And where’s the body? I want to see the body. And where is Razorclaw now? I must speak with him ASAP.”

“I....I....I....um...” was all that Blast-Off could utter as the barrage of questions seemed to almost overload his cerebral circuits.

“Oh, bother. Your vocal processor has frozen up because you're scared of me, hasn’t it? Typical,” the teal and purple mech responded as he released the terrified Combaticon, allowing him to fall to the hangar floor with a useless thud. “Since you are clearly of no more use to me, I will have to find my own answers elsewhere.” It was then that the Fallen's message came in over a nearby monitor, adding another level of complexity to an already confusing situation. "What the slag is going on around here?! Has everything gone to the Pit or am I imagining things? Unbelievable!"

Blast-Off sat up in time to see the newcomer stalk away and exit the hangar, disappearing from sight. The panicked space warrior let out a deep sigh of relief before picking himself up off the floor and immediately opening a comm line to his unit leader:

>>”Commander Onslaught! This is Blast-Off down in the hangar. You won’t believe who just arrived, sir! It’s, it’s....I still can’t believe it, myself!”<< The space warrior took a deep intake of air before he could proceed. >>”It’s Sixshot, sir! It’s mother fraggin’ SIXSHOT!!”<<


(OOC: Razorclaw & Skywarp posts to come.)

Medical Bay

"Your goal is a noble one but how do you intend to achieve it?

Flamewar considered her answer carefully. Information as she well knew was a very precious commodity and the control of which might very well determine her fate. Before Flamewar ever had a chance to answer Shadowing, however, a seeker strolled into the medical bay spouting off some nonsense, mistaking her patient for Shockwave. He didn't look injured but his optics and cerebral circuitry cleared needed some help.

The black operative gave the seeker a hard look, before glancing over to Crueljaw. "Keep that one far away from Shockwave," she said. She had no time to deal with a seeker who was having a mental breakdown. That fact became all the more achingly clear as a voice crackled over the PA systems and an image flickered on the view screens all around.

>> “Greetings Cybertronians. I offer you one final opportunity to surrender so that you may die with dignity. You cannot run. You cannot hide. You shall die. That is a promise."<<

"What in Megatron's name..." Flamewar uttered. Was everything now falling to pieces without the guiding fist of Lord Megatron?

>> “You will be staying here for the foreseeable future."<<

The Fallen moved aside to reveal the extent of the damages done to the ship. He was...aboard the ship?! However, that image soon faded to be replaced by coordinates. Why now of all times had Lord Megatron left them? It seemed they now faced their darkest hour without him. What had she gotten herself into?

>>"Warwolf to Flamewar. Don't know if you heard anything over the PA systems yet, but we've a situation is the engine room. I'm gonna take Misfire and check it out, hopefully try and stop whatever mess we've gotten into from escalating beyond our control. Warwolf out."<<

>>"Understood. Be careful, Warwolf. I don't need you scrapped beyond repair. Keep in touch, I want detailed reports on your findings."<<

The hiss of a CR chamber door opening drew the black operative's attention to the Military Operations Commander, who clattered to the floor as the door opened. He was obviously not fully repaired yet, but the commotion in the engine room must've triggered an emergency override. Flamewar glanced down to her patience, a drone or two milling about and tending to the injuries that Flamewar hadn't been. "I'll be right back," she said to the mech and moved over to Shockwave.

Shadowing had reached the cycloptic mech first however, and helped the Military Operations Commander to his feet. The purple Decepticon inquired as to the status of the situation. Shadowing briefed Shockwave of the general situation.

"The Fallen has destroyed the engines. I assume that is why you revived prematurely, Shockwave," Flamewar added to Shadowing's report, "He also left coordinates. Presumably for a mass confrontation. The fact that the Autobots contacted us leads me to surmise that they wish to combine our forces against him."

Engineering Deck - Outside Main Engine Room

Warwolf slid out of his mutated lupine form as he approached the doorway to the engine room. He readied his Howler Cannon pistol and kept a hand over one of his trick knife compartments and he cautiously reached for the doors controls.

"HOLD IT!" a voiced screamed from around the corner of the corridor. Warwolf turned and brought his weapon up and aimed towards where the voice had called out. Blitzwing rounded the corner with his weapon drawn and aimed at the interrogator as well. "Oh Warwolf, it's just you." Warwolf lowered his pistol in relief as Blitzwing followed suit and did as well. "I take it you heard the broadcast as well?"

"Yeah, I came to see how bad the damage was. What are you doing hiding behind the corner of the corridor?"

"I heard the message and worked my way over here hoping I could jump any of the Fallen's heralds or himself when they came out of the room. Instead I found you."

"Well that's reassuring..." Warwolf huffed as he turned back to face the door. "So there's a strong chance any one of them could still be in there right now?"

"Looks that way."

Warwolf holstered his sidearm again as he slowly approached the doorway's controls. He let out a deep sigh as he activated the wench that slowly opened the blast doors to the Engine deck. He turned his head to face Blitzwing once more. Blitzwing gave the interrogator a nod to signify that he had his back.

Engine Room

The atmosphere was dark and gloomy, befitting for a place very few mechs besides the engineers are known to venture out into. Warwolf cautiously stepped into the room and onto the service scaffolding with Blitzwing following right behind, keeping his optics sharp as he scanned around the room.

"Damn sons of glitches must have knocked out the power in here too. Must of known we would come try and restore the place." Blitzwing commented as he further observed the darkness surrounding them. "Might want to switch over to some thermal or night-vision optic polarities, unless you can feel around for a light switch."

Warwolf activated his integrated floodlight located on his chest panel. The narrow beam of white light casted out across the entire room as the interrogator and commando stood above the heavy machinery from their scaffolding perch.

"Or you know, guess that works too."

Before he could react, Warwolf's comm buzzed as Flamewar replied to his earlier message.

>>"Understood. Be careful, Warwolf. I don't need you scrapped beyond repair. Keep in touch, I want detailed reports on your findings."<<

"C'mon, let's check the place out, and hope The Fallen and his cronies still aren't snooping around." Warwolf stated as he began walking down the metallic staircase. The ground floor of Engine Room as covered in splattered traces of energon. Blitzwing leaned down and examined the trailing.

"It's not from one of our guys. There isn't any sort of trailing or sign of a struggle." The commando noted. "I'd assume these are from the engine reactors or something."

Warwolf pointed his attention towards the direction of the primary engine reactor. He trekked forward until he discovered the floor was beginning to flood over from the energon and other lubricants that leaked out from the engine rupture. Casting his light on the main reactor, Warwolf could full well observe the damage the lost member of the original thirteen Primes caused.

"Ah scrap!" Warwolf announced as he began to further observe the extent of the damage. "Blitzwing, put the gun away. With this much flooding, a spare laser spark or something could set this deck in a blaze larger than Starscream's ego."

>>"Flamewar; Fallen's right, we aren't going anywhere anytime soon. This place is an absolute mess. I can't assess the total amount of damage the guy did at the moment, gonna need a few engineers to come down here and mop up this mess."<<

Bridge - Captain’s Quarters

The captain’s personal CR chamber hissed opened as an alarm sounded on the control panel next to the unit. The override system had been activated as it was designed to do in case of an emergency that required a commander’s prompt attention. Razorclaw awakened within and quickly on-lined his optics. His audio receptors were immediately attacked by the alarm’s loud siren, alerting him that something was, indeed, very wrong.

Wasting no time, the Predacon lord stepped out as the remains of the nanite-rich fluid dripped off of his frame and onto the floor of his private cabin. While his session had not fully completed, a quick diagnostic showed that the vast majority of his injuries were sufficiently healed. The rest were only cosmetic at best and would be easily taken care of by his own internal repair systems. The lion-former then quickly turned and silenced the annoying alarm on the controls before heading for the door and exiting the captain’s quarters.

Entering the bridge proper, Razorclaw nodded to his Predacon guards, Tantrum and Rampage, motioning for them to take their rightful places at their assigned stations. The Supreme Leader of the Decepticons then made his way to the center of the room where he addressed the Combaticon Commander, his most steadfast ally and supporter. “Onslaught, report! What is going on here? Are we under attack? Is it the Autobots?”

Knockout’s Lab

Skywarp held on to Nightraven as she slowly slid off of the medical slab and tried to stand on her own. Her suggestion to check the hangar to see how things had ended was a good one, but would ultimately be difficult for her to achieve on her own power. “It might be better for me to teleport us down there,” the prankster suggested before stopping to think of the adverse affects that it might have on the seeker femme. “Although, come to think of it, maybe that’s not such a good idea, either. The teleportation might be too jarring for you. With our luck, that beast Razorclaw probably.....”

Skywarp’s words were cut short when the Fallen’s image suddenly appeared on the nearest terminal’s view screen. “Yes, Nighty, it looks like he’s on fire,” the teleporter responded to her assessment as the flamed-covered mech issued his warning and from the engine room of the Thanatos no less! After a set of coordinates filled the screen, ‘Warp glanced over at the seeker femme with a very worried expression on his faceplate.

“I’m not sure, Nighty, but I think that may have been the Fallen, the same fallen Prime from legend!” Skywarp paused for a moment as his searched his memory banks for the right file. “Remember, Thundercracker sent us that message a while back after I contacted him? He mentioned that the Fallen had returned down on Earth and that there had been some kind of temporary ceasefire with the Autobots. Then we kinda got side-tracked with the battle in the hangar, and I just completely forgot about it,” the prankster admitted as his optics looked to the floor before rising back up again. “Scrap! I probably should have told someone as soon as I found out! Not that anyone around here would’ve taken me seriously. I wasn’t even sure if I should believe it, but I guess ‘Cracker was right after all. The Fallen really is back!”

Thanatos--Hangar

"I have no reason to doubt High Commander's well being. Nor Hun-Gurrr's. Lord Scorponok would have crushed them all. You know this." Skullcruncher spoke out in response to his friend's comment. "But here and now, Razorclaw deserves our support. A leader had to be decided and no leader of Decepticons emerges without a trial of combat. We can only pray he will do the right thing when the time comes."

"Over it is at least."

Skullcruncher chuckled as he waited for Weirdwolf to load the wounded on him, "Is it ever over, really? It could be so much worse."

And then the Fallen's sinister visage appeared on every possible video device around the battlecruiser - his chilling voice creeping into every functional audio-receptor.

>> “Greetings Cybertronians. I offer you one final opportunity to surrender so that you may die with dignity. You cannot run. You cannot hide. You shall die. That is a promise... You will be staying here for the foreseeable future."<<

The Fallen? The Fallen was nothing but a legend from the forgotten past of Cybertron. A tale told to spook protoforms to behave. And the supposed bearer of the name Mortilus or Liege Maximo or something. The Fallen had been one of the fabled Thirteen or the Guiding Hand. He had either betrayed the other firstborn or rebelled against them depending on the story or its teller. Skullcruncher was no researcher of history so he had no idea which of those stories was the most credible but it certainly had sounded inspirational when mentioned in those speeches he had heard ages ago.

"The Fallen huh?"

But a Fallen was here. Now. Was it really the kinslayer? Skullcruncher had no idea. Whoever it had been, he had been powerful enough to enter the Thanatos without being detected, murder an engineering crew and cause enough damage to turn the battlecruiser into a satellite orbiting the Moon with no means of changing its direction.

With the Fallen stealing his limited attention effectively, the other action in the hangar had gone unnoticed by Skullcruncher, until some large stalked past him and Weirdwolf. And there really was only one being of that size who could move like that. "Uh, was that Sixshot?"


Med Bay

A transmission from Brawl to Onslaught:

>>"Boss what's happening?! The slaggin' Fallen is here?! I have Motormaster on a slab being check by this crazy looking femme and... Wait! Shockwave is getting up! Confirmation, I have a barely able to walk Shockwave back on his feet here! Orders?!"<<

Engine Room

Misfire breathed a sigh of relief that the Fallen was nowhere to be found when the interceptor arrived with Warwolf. Misfire had gone out of his way to avoid the brawl for leadership between the other Decepticons and had no desire to fight it out with a mythical entity from before the beginning of Cybertronian history.

But of course, he had to follow Warwolf. Flamewar and her apprentice were the only ones extending an olive branch to him, and he had to have some support network in place to remain aboard the Thanatos and not be sent back to Cybertron to haul more freight... but then again, if staying with the majority of his Decepticon comrades meant going to fight a supernatural entity, suddenly a lot of long, boring work became more appealing.

Again he followed after Warwolf, trying to figure out where this was leading to... past the guarding Blitzwing and into the pile of scrap that had once been the ship's engines. At least with the beast in front of him he'd be willing to shoot before he ran. If Warwolf found the Fallen, all Misfire would do is let him charge in first. Then he'd fire once and retreat.

It wasn't much of a plan, but any battle he could walk away from...

-

Med Bay

Bitstream watched the femme in charge head away. Again his HUD failed him. No notice of lost influence, no new dialogue tree. Whatever this level expansion was, it was bugged. The procedurally generated content hadn't repeated yet, so it was possible he'd simply been playing so long he'd overtaxed the system.

He had to finish the quest and quickly, before the game crashed. He found the nearest adjutant and spoke to it.

"Computer, this is Bitstream Prime," he said, sounding authoritative. "What is the current status of the ship?"

The adjutant's screen displayed a progress bar and then schematics of the warship. "Battlecruiser Thanatos suffering gear and shielding malfunctions in hangar. Thruster and slipspace engines have been disabled. Weapons systems operating at 70% of available power. Power failure in engine room and fuel storage containment."

So that was the problem. These renegades were stuck aboard a damaged ship. If he wanted to sway any of them to his side he'd have to help them... but, then, if he helped these rebels and they still chose to attack his government, he'd be exposing Cybertron to another threat.

He had once worn that same sigil on his wings, when Starscream barked orders at him to infiltrate Autobot systems... a lifetime ago, but that brotherhood must've still existed.

Even if that brand had been forced upon him, and made his own personal mark of shame. Even though he'd hated their leadership, the common Decepticons beneath them were Cybertronians he could relate to. Many had been victims of circumstance, or the weak minded poisoned by centuries of propaganda and all too real oppression.

He had united the Cybertronian race. He had ended the war, forever...

Bitstream took one last glance at Senator Shockwave... he was a monster, but his talents were not to be denied. If the Decepticons aboard this vessel could be swayed, the scientist would be left unsupported, and would choose the path of least resistance.

So Bitstream transformed his arm into an arc welder and prepared himself. "Computer, direct me to the engine room. Point out any power fluctuations along the way."

The adjutant processed his request. The lights in the hall rearranged and led him, and Bitstream Prime proceeded to his destination, to fix the ship.

If that didn't convince the renegades to rejoin the fold... then all that would remain was to destroy them all.

So much was coming in that it was difficult for even a seasoned tactician like Onslaught to keep up with it all. The transmissions from those members of his unit not currently on the bridge only further served to add to the chaotic din. Out of the gladiator pit and into the smelting pool, it seemed.

Blast-Off's was arguably the most confusing, and thus requiring the more pressing response.

>>"...Sixshot? But we've barely scratched the notion of Phase Two. Why is he...?"<< Onslaught transmitted, trailing off as he was asking more rhetorical questions of himself rather than giving Blast-Off any useful answers. >>"Acknowledged, Blast-Off. The engine room is the priority right now. I want it secured until I can get the Constructicons in there to begin repairs. There's nothing we can do about Sixshot's presence here for the time being."<<

And that was certainly true. He had expected many otherwise unexpected scenarios in the aftermath of Razorclaw's win. The arrival of a Phase Six Decepticon was not one of them. If anything, Shockwave's move to keep Megatron's status secret from the wider empire also served their interests, as it would buy them the time they needed to secure their new power base and then expand it little by little until even the most feared names would be hard-pressed to try and overthrow them. Sixshot, however, could turn much of that strategy on its head, if he so chose; however, from what Onslaught knew of that particular Phase Six operative, he had not been one traditionally obsessed with the idea of command, like certain others--Phase Six or otherwise. He had not ever appeared so, at least. Hopefully that was a calculation that would remain true. That still did not answer the question of who had summoned him here, but like everything else, Onslaught was confidant that the answer to that question would come with time. In the interim, he could well prove to be an invaluable weapon in their struggle against the Fallen.

Brawl's transmission, at least, had been one of those unexpected scenarios that Onslaught was prepared for: as soon as critical alarms began sounding across the bridge regarding the status of the engine, he also expected certain cryonic regeneration chamber failsafes to be enacted to ensure the continued functioning of those within. That meant the likely return of both Shockwave as well as Razorclaw to the game board. Neither disappointed him.

>>"I read you, Brawl. Monitor him, but do not otherwise engage. Motormaster is our priority within that room right now. If he takes any aggressive actions, we'll put him back in stasis permanently."<<

With those communiques dispatched, Onslaught could now give his full attention to the one who deserved it most--their new leader.

"We were under attack, my lord. But...we no longer appear to be. The Thanatos, however, has suffered critical damage to its engines and we are, for the time being, disabled. I have recalled the Constructicons to assess and repair the damages. Our attacker was not the Autobots, however. Rather, it appeared to be a follow-up action directly related to the message I transmitted to you shortly after you took your leave in the CR chamber--we're being baited by the Fallen. He left us these coordinates," Onslaught said, pointing at the readout on one of the displays.

"It would also seem that Sixshot has decided to make his presence known in our sector of the galactic battlefield. I am currently unsure as to why."
___

Med-Bay

Shockwave's sole optic settled on Shadowing as he was the first to provide an answer to his initial query. The report was organized and to the point, addressing all key concerns that Shockwave would have wanted to be immediately aware of. Both key questions regarding the status of both Autobot and Decepticon leadership had been answered. Though Shockwave found neither of them to be ideal, they were also not scenarios which required primary actions on his part.

The last report, however, might. It had effectively thrown an entirely new series of strategic calculations into the mix.

"Satisfactory," Shockwave replied simply to Shadowing's report.

The next Decepticon to speak to him also had that effect, though for an entirely different reason. Flamewar. One of the strategic operatives that Megatron had allowed a considerable degree of freedom but also preferred to keep largely under the radar, similar to the use that Shockwave had long ago found for Shadowing. Her arrival here would also signal a shift in the political structure of the Decepticons. Shockwave had little time to ever indulge in the continued oversight of such Decepticons. As Military Operations Commander, his focus was always on the bigger picture, moving armies and adjusting battlefronts under Megatron's direction--until that unfortunate distraction with the Dinobots had occurred. Now, however, his focus would have to return to those reasons that Megatron had sent him back to Cybertron to begin with. The machinations of those around him, while still of interest, did not occupy their previous level of prominence.

"I concur," Shockwave stated in response to Flamewar's observation as to the reasoning behind his preemptive revival. Her latter statement did force him to pause, a number of new calculations running through his advanced processors. "Declarative: then we do indeed face our collective extinction, though not via the means that I had originally predicted."

Bridge

The doors slid open and Soundwave calmly strode into the room without a word. He had, of course, been monitoring all communications and was well aware of the situation. It was he, after all, that had allowed Magnus’s message to be played over the internal speakers in the Thanatos. It wasn’t like the Autobots had that sort of authority over a Decepticon communication system. It had been a test of the new leadership and he had been unimpressed by the results.

By allowing Onslaught to reply for him Razorclaw betrayed weakness in his command. A signal from the current Autobot leader needed to be met directly by strength and not an admission of weakness by allowing a second in command to answer it. As a communications specialist it would have been acceptable for Soundwave to take care of it himself, even adding an air of unimportance to what the Autobots wanted, as it should be. That’s what would have happened had Megatron been around, or Megatron would have answered himself, despite whatever battered condition he was in. Razorclaw proved once again that he was no Megatron.

Soundwave could again taste the fear and confusion that surrounded him as he moved to his station. He had, of course, witnessed the message from the being calling himself ‘The Fallen’ and now that he was able to directly tap into the main computer he could see the damage he had wrought. However he did not feel the confusion and fear that the others did. It was not in his nature to believe in the supernatural or the mythical. He recognized power when he saw it, not doubt, and they were now up against a powerful and fearless opponent. He was nothing more then that, and he would fall to Decepticon might. He had to admit though that the fall would be all the quicker if they had the living legend that was Megatron leading them against him. Once again Razorclaw would fall far short.

The Decepticon overheard Onslaught’s report, as cursory as it was. He sat down at his station and connected to the computer to get a more direct reading of the damage. “Damage report: main power is offline, primary and secondary systems on emergency back up feeds. Weapons and defensive systems are down. Primary engines are down. Sensors and communications are on reduced effectiveness. Repair estimates will require direct investigation.” He did a quick check of the internal scanners. “Sixshot has boarded the ship via the main hangar which he has vacated. Current destination: unknown, but probably dictates he would move to the bridge for clarification of current assignment.”

Soundwave turned to look directly at Razorclaw. The Predacon had fought and earned his spot as leader, unworthy as Soundwave thought he was. Now it was time to see if he would be able to hold on to that leadership against the likes of a phase sixer. He doubted that Razorclaw had prepared for such a meeting so soon, if ever. It was not in his predator nature to plan so far ahead. There was certainly a good chance that the reign of Razorclaw would come to a short end, but in the meantime Soundwave would continue to move forward as best benefited the Empire. “Orders?”

*

As additional Decepticons had entered the bridge Swindle had quietly withdrawn from the main action. Things were getting a bit too tense and important for his liking. Power struggles, deals with Autobots and now mythical Cybertronians sabotaging their ship. This was not a good financial climate. Mechs weren’t likely to buy when it looked like the very end was nigh. In those cases they had a tendency to just take what they wanted/needed and not worry about payment, and that just wasn’t going to work for Swindle.

Part of him considered just ditching them all right here and now. Things had obviously gotten too hot here to make a deal with anyone. On the flip side he felt confident he could deal with the Earthlings below. They had plenty of energy production he could use and he had plenty of tech he could trade for it. He could probably be living down there like a king in hours with his deal making skills.

The probably was that he would be a bit too outnumbered for his liking. Sure, he had done plenty of deals on his own in the past, but not while mythical Cybertronians were rocking around, not to mention dealings with a primitive and violent race that this one seemed to be. One against a few billion little psycho flesh creatures weren’t the best odds. Taking some muscle would be ideal, and the other Combaticons would be ideal muscle, if he could convince them to come along, and the best way to do that was to convince Onslaught. He opened a private channel to his commander.

>>”Onslaught, in case things are getting too hairy up here I had some drones load us up a new escape pod full of goodies the Preds won’t miss. Just give the word and we can all run down to it and split down the surface. Give me a few hours with these natives and some of my merchandise and we will be living like kings with now worries like Sixshot or The Fallen. Just throwing that option out there.”<<

Untraceable Frequency: Ark 22 to Decepticon Warship Thanatos

“Understood Onslaught, coordinates are to be contained within data burst…” A wave of static erupts over the com network before it too goes down to do a loss of power and disruption in the grid.

Med Bay

What a close call that had been. Flywheels had been positive that Landgrab knew who – or, perhaps, more accurately – what he was. But for all his fretting, for all the apprehension slowly morphing him into a nervous wreck as he was certain that this gentlemech knew – it had been for naught. The extent of Landgrab's knowledge stretched only as far as Flywheels simply being another project of Shockwave's, thus rendering the word Duocon absent from their idle chitchat.

Brilliant. Another crisis averted.

Even though the Decepticons were a unique fusion of personalities ranging from the humorous to the frightening, the more bizarre ones found themselves to be targets for harassment or, on occasion, far worse than victims of bullying. The Duocons were such individuals, and while they could fight as well as any warrior, it wasn't in their best interests to make new enemies when the Autobots were all the enemies they needed. Plenty of them to go around.

Besides, Flywheels was an upbeat fellow who enjoyed interacting socially with his comrades, and he didn't want to ruin that by having his identity disclosed to the general ranks. He couldn't conceal it forever, there was no chance of that happening, but he'd try to for as long as possible. In his opinion: the longer he could, the better off he would be.

>>“Greetings Cybertronians. I offer you one final opportunity to surrender so that you may die with dignity. You cannot run. You cannot hide. You shall die. That is a promise.”<<

Flywheels scowled, completely confused as to who the voice belonged to. And how exactly this mechanoid had assumed control of the PA system.

Shortly after the voice spoke, Shockwave came tumbling out of his CR chamber, as if it had grown a conscience and decided the military operations commander was no longer welcome to the repairs he still required. Despite his condition, Shockwave then rose to his feet and demanded a report of the current situation, his chassis decorated by wounds not yet attended to.

“What the Pit?” Flywheels said to himself.

Puzzled beyond belief, he just stood there, and attempted to take in these new developments, astounding as they were. He failed. Not with the standing – he was doing a capital job of that – but with comprehending the situation.

Damn it. He had to ask the terrible question. The question that would portray him as the stupid, ignorant, clueless pistonlicker.

“Yo, Landgrab,” Flywheels said. “What's going on? And who was on the PA system just then?” He glanced at his creator, before transferring that glance to the masses residing in the med bay and discovering troubled expressions that matched his own. “What have I missed?”

Bridge

Razorclaw couldn’t of picked a worse time to become Supreme Commander of the Decepticon Empire. Listening to the reports of both Onslaught and Soundwave, it became clear that everything was happening fast and all at once with very little time to react or develop a responsive plan. A seasoned leader like Megatron would instantly know what to do without having to even think about it. The lion-former, however, was no slagmaker. He knew that all too well and likely so did everyone else judging by the amount of challengers to the throne he had already faced with more surely to come. It was one thing to command a specialty unit, but another thing entirely to lead the whole of an empire. This would be a true test of Razorclaw’s command abilities. He would either succeed or fail. There was no in-between.

Onslaught’s earlier message to him regarding the emergence of the Fallen had not gone unheard. The idea of a mythical entity such as the Fallen being real was a hard one to swallow, but if the Combaticon Commander had seen this fallen Prime of legend then it must be true. The concept of a ceasefire with the Autobots was also hard to imagine, let alone having any kind of lasting truce and working relationship with them. Still, it was something that needed to be considered if the Fallen truly wanted to destroy the entirety of the Cybertronian race. The supernatural entity’s subsequent attack on the Thanatos seemed to indicate that the Fallen clearly had great power and was not to be underestimated.

With all of the severe damage that was done to the Predacon warship, there was also the arrival of Sixshot to deal with. For some unknown reason, the Phase Sixer had decided to pay them a visit here in the Sol System. Only, Sixshot never just paid anyone a visit without first being summoned by Megatron, himself. Sol-3 was not even out of Phase One yet and certainly no where near Phase Six. So, why then was Sixshot here? Who had summoned him? The answer was as obvious to Razorclaw as Soundwave’s belief that he was not fit to lead. “Starscream,” the lion-former spoke, looking at Onslaught. “It was Starscream that summoned Sixshot here. I’m sure of it. Who else could it have been? This reeks of something he would do. After all, Sixshot doesn’t just stop by somewhere for drinks and a friendly chat. He's always called upon by Megatron and with the slagmaker gone there’s no one else who would know how to contact the sixchanger. The only question is motive. Does Starscream think Sixshot will help him steal the throne for himself? Perhaps, but I do not intend to wait to find out.”

Razorclaw turned back to the Communications Specialist. “Soundwave, find Starscream’s whereabouts and have him report to the bridge immediately. Also track his and Sixshot’s movements through the ship. If it was our dear Seeker Commander who called Sixshot here then they will most likely try to meet somewhere and soon. Alert me immediately if that happens. Furthermore, once the Constructicons are on board I want them to personally inspect all of the damage done to the Thanatos and provide repair estimates ASAP. Dispatch vehicons to assist them if necessary. Otherwise, continue to monitor all communications on board.”

The Predacon lord then returned his attention to the Combaticon Commander. “Onslaught, you spoke with Ultra Magnus while I was in the CR chamber. What did he have to say regarding the situation with the Fallen? Have the Autobots learned anything of value or have any ideas on how to combat such a foe? Also, who were the Deceptions corrupted by the Fallen? I want to know...” Razorclaw’s words trailed off at the sound of another transmission coming in from Ultra Magnus. The message was short and cut off abruptly as static filled the comm channel.

“Soundwave, try to re-establish a connection if possible! Magnus mentioned a data burst containing coordinates. Did we receive them?” The lion-former moved over towards the communications station and awaited Soundwave’s response.

Engine Room

After dropping off his hover cart full of deactivated and damaged vehicons at the repair bay, Blast-Off made his way down to the engineering deck per Onslaught’s orders. The space warrior was still shaken from his encounter with Sixshot back in the hangar. Although, he would never admit that to anyone. After all, Blast-Off didn’t want to be considered a coward as that would surely damage his assertion of being the best at everything. Of course, his fellow Combaticons would likely say that he was the best at being a coward so it was a good thing that none of them had seen his reaction when the sixchanger treated him like a fleshling child’s rag doll earlier.

“Vortex would have never let me live that one down,” Blast-Off muttered quietly to himself as he approached the engine room doors. Entering his security codes, the space warrior pulled out his weapon and cautiously stepped inside. Wasting no time, the space warrior scanned the darkened chamber for any hostiles but only discovered three other Decepticons who were already there. Beyond them, the engine, or what was left of it, set off a series of intense sparks as it simultaneously leaked fluids everywhere.

>>”Commander Onslaught, this is Blast-Off. I’m in the engine room now. Everything’s a mess down here. The engine’s pretty much gone and the place is flooded with energon and other fluids. Whoever has to fix all this is going to have their work cut out for them. There’s no signs of the Fallen, just a few other ‘Cons who made it here before me. However, I’ll keep my guard up just in case.”<<

Cutting of his comm line, Blast-Off then approached Misfire, Warwolf and Blitzwing, carefully walking through the energon and lubricants that had covered the floor. “Hey, guys! I see you beat me here. I take it the Fallen is gone? At least, I hope he is.”

Med Bay

Shadowing demonstrated no emotion at Shockwave's compliment. He had done countless "satisfactory" tasks before in his long years of service. It never seemed to be enough to end things.

"Analysis. In a situation this dire we will need not only your intelligence and experience but also your might. I put forward the hypothesis that the optimal use of our time would be for you to return to your repairs but remain in contact with us. We can arrange for you to communicate with anyone you need or begin any required analysis while you finish recovering."

Bridge

Onslaught pondered Razorclaw's assessment as to the reasoning behind Sixshot's sudden arrival in this sector of the galaxy. There were certainly far less plausible theories out there. Onslaught didn't know what exactly Starscream thought he might get out of the whole arrangement if indeed he was the responsible party. He would give the matter more thought when the potential extinction of their species was not staring them in the face. For now, as long as Sixshot was here, he was a resource to be utilized just like any other.

"Very possible, Razroclaw. We will just have to see what his first action turns out to be and respond accordingly."

Sixshot was one matter. Starscream, however, was another entirely. And though Razorclaw's patience was notorious in the Decepticon ranks, it was clear that the new Supreme Commander wanted to keep close tabs on the Seeker Leader. Onslaught could not blame him in the slightest.

After addressing Soundwave, the Predacon quickly returned his attention to him.

"I did. The intelligence on their end appears to be minimally valuable thus far. Magnus had nothing of terrible import to give me at the time I spoke with him. Whether he was being intentionally elusive or he truly has no valuable intel, I don't know. I was in the process of arranging a parlay whereby we could share what each side has gathered thus far and coordinate a response. However, when the Fallen disabled the Thanatos' engines, he also seems to have disabled at least some aspects of our communications systems, as you just heard," Onslaught said, bringing up another holoscreen that Razorclaw could examine. He quickly accessed Decepticon personnel files and brought up tech spec information regarding the ones that had been corrupted.

"Ah, yes. Drag Strip and Darkride, sir," he reported, continuing to give the Decepticon leader as much information as he could in order to make the most effective command decisions regarding what steps to take next.

"I suppose the question facing us now is whether we take the Fallen's bait, or if we even have other options at this point."