The Energon Pub

Medical Bay -- Maximum Security Wing

Drag Strip remained expressionless when Motormaster told him that he was almost flattered by the images pulled from the former herald’s memory banks. The Stunticon Commander even gave him the closest thing to an actual compliment the yellow mech had ever heard from him before. Of course, saying that Drag had a backbone was quickly followed up by the word "coward" so it really wasn’t much of a compliment at all. Still, from a brute like Motormaster, it was at least a little something.

The former crime boss then leaned down to whisper into Drag Strip’s audio receptor. The yellow Stunticon swallowed hard, expecting to be tortured some more, and while he got just that, it wasn’t in the form he had expected. After the obligatory “it would never have worked” speech, Motormaster went for the jugular and called Drag a second rate racer, claiming that he would never have won a single race on the main circuit if the Stunticon Commander and his thugs hadn’t rigged them. He even called the former race champion a loser and that was all he would ever be.

Those words hurt more than anything physical Motormaster had done to him thus far. Well, almost anything. Pulling the large sword out of his torso hurt a lot, but only for a moment. Then the medical slab was kicked over, sending Drag Strip sprawling to the floor, energon pouring out of his chest wound where the blade had just been embedded. There was pain, there was agony, but Drag was still focused more on Motormaster’s words. "Loser." "Second rate racer." Those dug deeper than a mere sword. For a mech who wanted to win more than anything else, being called a loser was more than tough to take. It was excruciating.

Finally, the Stunticon Commander left the security wing, his laughter echoing through Drag Strip’s audios after a reminder that his payback was only just beginning. Drag hated Motormaster. He hated him with a passion only rivaled by the other Stunticons. However, the former champion hated himself even more for ever seeking out the ex-crime boss's help in winning some of the races where mechs like Blurr always seemed to beat Drag no matter how hard he tried. Of course, he didn’t need all the races rigged, just certain ones. But, it was impossible to know which competitions were ultimately fixed as Motormaster had been deeply involved in race betting and so it was entirely possible he had rigged contests that the yellow champion had not asked for. And that was something the Stunticon Commander gleefully held over Drag's head for the many vorns since.

Unfortunately, once Drag Strip was indebted to Motormaster, he belonged to the powerful brute for life. Hence, the reason why Drag was now a part of the Stunticons. He had no choice in the matter, having been blackmailed and bullied until he said yes. The only way to break away was to kill his tormentor and that was now about as likely as the Fallen coming back to rescue him. It just wasn’t going to happen.

I don’t care what anyone says. I’m NOT a loser. I’m still BETTER than any of them! Drag Strip thought as anger replaced sorrow. He reached up and quickly yanked out the probe from his optical gutter. Drag winched as a sharp pain shot through his head before subsiding. The yellow racer then crawled over to the nearest CR chamber and slowly pulled himself up to a standing position, propping his damaged body against the control panel. After setting the machine for a standard repair cycle based on his injuries, a pain-filled Drag Strip carefully climbed into the CR unit and let the door slide shut with a hiss. The chamber then began to fill with the nanite-rich fluid that would once again heal him. He would rest for now and worry about showing his faceplate in front of the others later.

Like I care what any of them think.

Outside Med Bay

For her part Nightraven kept her mouth shut and tried to remain in the background while Skywarp spoke with Starscream. She had no desire to draw attention to herself or to the fact that she was a bit apprehensive about what the Air Commander had in store. Nightraven grew even more concerned when Skywarp’s quarry went unanswered. What was going on and why wasn’t he answering a simple question.

Soon Skywarp turned his attention onto her. He took her hand is his…

“Hold on. This can be a little jarring, but not as bad as a bounce. Heh.”

Nightraven quickly looked at his her optics wide. “Wait…” And with that the two of them vanished in a plume of purple light.

Hanger

Mere seconds later and Nightraven and Skywarp were standing in the primary hanger. The femme placed her hand on her forehead and instinctively gripped his hand a bit tighter so as not to teeter over from the slight vertigo.

“You okay?”

At first Nightraven nodded but stopped when a new wave of dizziness crashed. It passed however and she turned a smile up at him. “Yeah. I’m okay.” She let his hand go when he was satisfied she was alright and watched while Skywarp moved to the nearest shuttle. The femme took in a deep breath and followed along. She had a bad feeling about this whole ordeal, but Skywarp was set on proving himself to Starscream.

“I don’t…” she began but stopped when he glanced back at her.

“Ah, there we go,” Skywarp said as he glanced back at Nightraven. “Well, I got the shuttle powering up, and the engines sound fine from what I can tell.”

She forced a smile and nodded while stepping in closer. While he scanned the nob, dials and lights Nightraven waited.

“We seem to be all in the green, Nighty. But, could you maybe take a look for yourself to make sure I didn’t miss anything? That’d be a big help. Thanks.”

This time the smile she flashed him was genuine. He was determined to show Starscream and the others that he was just as capable as the rest of them. That he could follow orders and not screw things up.

The purple and black femme nodded and took a glance at all of the controls. She spotted one switch that was not engaged. “You forgot this one.” As Nigtraven spoke she leaned over in front of Skywarp and flipped the switch. She began to slip passed him but paused for a moment. Now face to face she flashed him another small smile. “There. It was the only one you missed.”

Med Bay – Maximum Security Wing

Smile wide, hands clapping gently in giddy glee, Orbitoclast watched excitedly as Motormaster berated, belittled and just plain made miserable Drag Strip. The hulking brute hit his subordinate below the belt when he told the former racer that he was nothing more than a loser, that all he’d ever be was a loser.

She couldn’t help but let loose a low giggle. This mech was cruel and he didn’t even have to be physical. Orbitoclast was determined to pick the self-proclaimed King of the Roads’ brain. She simple had to know about him.

The sound of the med berth being over turned drew her attention back to Drag Strip’s unfortunate ordeal. While she stared in awe a smile grew on her face. She hoped beyond all hope that Motormaster would finish what he started but instead…

”C'mon girlie. Leave him for now. The worst thing we can do the poor Dragster here is to let him live and have him find the courage to show up among the others.”

The psychotic doctor glanced over at the Stunticon Commander and grinned a toothy grin. She quickly jogged over and stood beside Motormaster. She looked back at Drag Strip and shook her head before following the massive black and silver beast out.

Med Bay

"Power struggles never really end." Shadowing said with a sad smile. "The select few battle to have control while the rest fight for them. It is the way of things. All one can hope if that one picked the right side."

“The right side, huh?” Darkfire said, glancing down at Shadowing. “I wonder if I made the right decision every waking moment.” The assassin stood as the medical drone beeped at her, running a diagnostic on her systems. Everything seemed fine. She glanced around. The medical bay was mostly deserted now. Even the sadistic Motormaster had left his prey who had been screaming in the background.

Darkfire had barely registered it. “What to do now…” she wondered aloud.

Med Bay

Scavenger was in a state of moderate to severe panic. He couldn’t be sure because he had no idea what was happening, but it didn’t seem to be good. Bonecrusher threw out words like poison, which Scavenger vaguely knew the meaning of. Bad stuff. Luckily, his junior partner Detective Mixmaster was on the case. Said Long Haul was gonna be okay because it was just nitrogen. Which was a liquid. Scavenger sighed in relief.

He patted Mixmaster lightly on the shoulder. “Good work, junior,” he said, doing his best impression of those cops in the human’s TV shows. “Another case for the books. That’s a wrap!” Scavenger said, giving the chemist a dashing smile and a thumbs up. Then Bonecrusher wandered off, causing Scavenger to stare after him.

“So…uh. What now?”

The Lounge

”I was pummeled into a bedrock by some mutated Autobot possessed by something impossible.”

“But achieve you did something that others lay claim to cannot,” Weirdwolf persisted, trying to bring his friend out of his foul mood. “In actually wounding that which is impossible. A feat which not even could our resident destroyer of worlds do.” The thespian took another sip of his Mood Whiplash. “Feel not ill of yourself, Skullcruncher.”

As he spoke, Weirdwolf cast his optics down the bar, taking in the new life that kept pouring into the small establishment. It was getting a touch lively, wasn’t it? It only further cemented his resolve to convert some part of his area into a stage. Still. Weirdwolf turned his gaze back to his drink. That could wait until after he’d thoroughly enjoyed his drink. He took a long sip, relishing the taste as he listened idly to the chatter around him.

"Oh...yeah, they hang around with this bat guy. Mindwipe. Or used to," Breakdown said, taking a long swig of his fuel container. His optics narrowed. "I wonder who's Scorponok's got his eyes on around here? I wonder if they still send him reports. Hmmm..."

“If they did, we’d already have ole Claws on us,” Wildrider snapped his fingers, “Just like that. Make things more exciting though…” The crazed Stunticon sighed, bouncing his leg up and down to diffuse some excess energy. A big grin broke out on his faceplate when Bonecrusher decked Swindle across the face. Hastily glancing around for Brawl who would escalate the fight – it was in his name – Wildrider pouted with disappointment as he failed to spot the Combaticon’s dumb short fuse. Not to mention the situation with Swindle seemed to simmer down almost immediately.

Wildrider sighed in disgust, sagging melodramatically in his seat. Bored again. Still…the wheels…they were turning in the deviant’s head. If a bar fight wouldn’t break out spontaneously, maybe a little push was all that was needed. As Wildrider mulled over that, Blast-Off was dragged into the lounge with the most miserable expression on his faceplate.

“Aaaaand we’re here,” Blast-Off said, attempting to contain his enthusiasm, “Whoo. Can you maybe let me go, Brawl?” The solitary Combaticon tugged on the arm of Brawl who had constricted him into a headlock. “So we can get drinks. Why don’t you find a table? I’ll get the drinks.” Blast-Off felt nothing but immense regret for suggesting that the two go for drinks. Never again. Never. Though Blast-Off felt like he’d been wrangled into this situation before. Funny that.

The look of misery on Blast-Off’s face was a sight to behold. Wildrider drank it in. And speak of the devil! Brawl! Perfect…Oh, he just loved it when a plan came together. Turning back around in his seat and hastily taking a final swig of his energon, Wildrider lightly tested its weight in his hand. “Hey, Breakdown. Buddy. Pal. Do me a favor,” Wildrider whispered agreeably, “Play along, will ya?”

Whirling around, Wildrider chucked the half-empty glass at the back of Skullcruncher’s head. He gasped dramatically. “WHOA! Nice shot there, Breakdown. You teach that ugly as Pit lizard a lesson! You got bigger ball bearings than I thought.” Wildrider grinned and nudged Breakdown with his elbow companionably. “I owe you a couple shanix. Didn’t think you’d do it.”

Briefing Room

At the very least, Flamewar could say that she was not entirely disappointed with the Predacon lord. He showed little interest in her advances. He not be swayed so easily. That went some way in reassuring her of Razorclaw’s capability. She listened as he spoke about gaining Shockwave’s cooperation. He wished for her to facilitate a meeting with Shockwave. Brief him on the discussion here. Good, good. The Predacon lord would be busy with Scrapper in the meantime. Plus, it would afford her the opportunity to learn about Shockwave’s current projects. Something she had been curious about in her last visit.

As Flamewar considered her new set of orders amongst other plans, Razorclaw spoke up once more. Her optics flicked up to the Predacon lord. He had information that the Autobot Battleship Trion had arrived in the system. The words immediately caused the black operative to frown. The Trion should not have arrived at all. Or at least not for a while. She wondered at the cause. Taking a moment to listen to Razorclaw’s request for information, the black operative stared hard at the silhouetted form of the Predacon lord.

“In the last report that our operative stationed at Cas Collar made, the Dinobots had arrived and sought to claim the Trion by force. The operative intended to cripple or render the ship inoperable for some time at the time of his report. Judging from the Trion’s appearance in the Sol System, he failed and was likely eliminated.”

Flamewar leaned lightly against the table, crossing her arms. “Fortunately, we do have some of the Trion’s specifications and capabilities courtesy of our operative. I’ll transfer all that I have to you,” she replied, staring at the Predacon commander. He was a special team commander in a new and vicious world. It would be an adjustment. She toyed with the idea of uttering the thought on her mind. Well, perhaps it would go a small measure to attain more of Razorclaw’s trust. It would allow her to gauge him a bit more at least.

“Whenever you decide to announce your claim to leadership to the wider Decepticon forces, it might be a wise idea to acquire the cooperation of the Decepticon Justice Division. Though I would take care in how you approach them if you decide to. Tarn can be…Well. He has his quirks,” Flamewar suggested before shifting her full weight back onto her feet and letting her arms fall to her sides.

“If there is nothing else…?” She left the statement lingering in the air, offering Razorclaw a slight bow. “I shall leave you to your meeting with Scrapper.”

Hangar

Thank Primus Nightraven had been with him on this task. As Skywarp had suspected, he missed an important switch that needed to be engaged in order for the shuttle to run properly. The teleporter wasn’t sure what the switch in question did exactly, but upon closer inspection it appeared to have something to do with the craft's fuel injectors. Those were something that the prankster was somewhat familiar with as they regulated energon to all portions of the shuttle. If those weren’t working correctly then the shuttle wouldn’t get very far and Starscream would likely end up adrift in space. And that would be bad.

“Thanks, Nighty,” a relieved Skywarp said as she moved by him slightly so he could see her visage. “I knew I was missing something. Screamer would’ve had my tailpipe if his mission, whatever it is, failed because of something I overlooked.” The teleporter then returned the seeker femme’s smile with one of his own before he then stood up from the control console. “Well, I guess we’re done here. Nothing more for us to do. Let’s just stand guard outside the hatch while the engines continue to warm up and we wait for Starscream to get here.”

With that said, Skywarp moved out of the cockpit and descended the ramp to the hangar floor. He then opened a comm line to the Seeker Commander:

>>“Commander Starscream, this is Skywarp. Your shuttle is powering up and will be ready to go by the time you arrive, sir.”<<

Once the transmission had been sent, the prankster cut the comm link and glanced back at Nightraven. “So, what do you think Screamer’s got up his sleeve this time? He seems intent on leaving the Thanatos for some reason. He never gave me an answer before, so I can’t help but wonder what his plan is.”

Briefing Room

Razorclaw listened carefully as Flamewar briefed him on what she knew regarding the Trion. Apparently, the femme was just as surprised as the lion-former that the Trion had arrived in the Sol System. On top of what the Predacon lord already knew about the new Autobot warship, the black operative provided additional information she had received from a covert agent who was undercover at the Alpha shipyards.

According to this operative, the Dinobots had arrived at Cas Coller and claimed the ship for themselves by force. Essentially, they stole it. This was typical of Grimlock and his brood. They cared little for following orders or the chain of command and simply did what they wanted with little in the way of consequences for their actions. It was clear that Autobot Command often allowed them such leeway only because of how good the Dinobots were on the battlefield. Razorclaw, himself, had great respect for Grimlock as he and his squad were some of the few Autobots that could actually pose a real challenge to the Predacons. The Dinobots would fall one day, of course, but not before a grand battle that pitted two of Cybertron’s greatest specialty teams against each other. Razorclaw very much looked forward to that day. It would come eventually, and the Predacons would be victorious.

Flamewar continued on, acknowledging that the Decepticon spy in question was supposed to sabotage the Trion which would delay its maiden voyage indefinitely. However, that had clearly not happened. The saboteur had been unsuccessful and now the newest and most advanced battleship in the Autobot navy was orbiting Sol-3 and posed a greater risk to the Thanatos than any other 'bot ship in the sector. Regardless, the Predacon warship was still one of the most powerful the Decepticons had to offer. It would live up to its reputation and take on the Trion head to head if need be. There would be no backing down, not now, not ever.

Fortunately, the spy had been able to acquire some important data regarding the Dinobots’ new battleship before failing at his ultimate task. “Good. At least that's something. We will use whatever information was obtained about the Trion to help reinforce the Thanatos and prepare it for any eventual confrontation. I look forward to reading your report, Flamewar.” The black operative then made mention of the DJD and suggested that Razorclaw should gain their support whenever he decided it was time to announce his claim on the throne to the Decepticon forces beyond the Sol System. This was a very dangerous proposition as Tarn and his sadistic team were steadfast supporters of Megatron and his ideals. How they would react to the slagmaker’s disappearance or anyone trying to take his place was an unknown factor that the lion-former quite frankly didn’t even want to think about presently. After all, he didn’t want to end up on their list if they thought he was not worthy of the throne or even somehow blamed for Megatron’s absence.

“I’m well aware of Tarn’s quirks,” Razorclaw told Flamewar in no uncertain terms. “Quite honestly, we don’t know exactly what happened to Megatron. No body was ever found and there are those who likely believe he’s still out there somewhere. Tarn would naturally want proof of the slagmaker’s death before he supported any replacement. Unfortunately, we simply don’t have that proof right now and we may never have it. Still, having the DJD’s support would certainly help legitimize my claim on the throne, but we would have to first convince them that Megatron is gone for good and that I am a worthy successor that will remain true to his ideals. That won’t be an easy sell, I’m afraid, but it’s also something we won’t be able to avoid forever. ”

Razorclaw placed both hands behind his back as he glanced back out the observation window at the lunar surface. “I’ll worry about all that later. For now, I have more pressing matters to deal with at present.” The lion-former turned back to look at Flamewar as she asked if there was anything more. “No, there is nothing else at this time, my dear. I do appreciate your suggestion regarding the DJD, however. It’s something I will keep in mind as we move forward. For now, speak with Shockwave and I will venture down to his lab to talk with him personally as soon as I am able which I hope will not be too long. And thank you again for your help, Flamewar. You are a great asset to both myself and to the Empire as a whole.”

Removing his hands from behind his back, the Predacon lord made his way towards the door that led back into the bridge proper. Once the door slid open, Razorclaw stood to one side to allow Flamewar to leave first. After the black operative had exited the briefing room, the lion-former followed right after and found Scrapper still patiently waiting out on the bridge. “Commander Scrapper, my apologies for the wait, my friend. Please, if you will join me now, we have much to discuss.”

Wasting no time, Razorclaw re-entered the briefing room and waited for the Constructicon Commander to follow.

Med Bay

"If you want my advice. Don't lose too much recharge time over that." Shadowing said calmly as he saw a piece of melted metal be removed and replaced.

"These games they play are long and winding, you probably won't know for a long, long time if you picked right or not. And if you picked wrong... well... by then you won't have anything to do beside just continue on. That or be terminated."

He moved his finders as the melted metal pieces were removed and he could move them without breakage again.

"But, hey, you could have picked right then congrats. Either way, you will be better off without the distraction."

Firing Range

Misfire absorbed the information in depth before loading his gun with the blanks. He raised the weapon slowly, keeping his hands steady. Misfire fired three shots. Two missed completely, but the last on nicked the side of the target that Bonecrusher had set up.

Misfire jumped and pumped his fist in the air, crying out, "I did it! I hit the target! Well, not dead center, but at least I hit the darned thing."

Firing Range:

"Great job Misfire haha!" said Bonecrusher who could tell that Misfire was improving, "You hit the target!"

Then Bonecrusher took a look at Misfire's gun and said, "If you set your cheek on this section right here, and look through the sight right here, all you pretty much have to do is align the cross-hairs with the center of the target. It's actually pretty easy! Ha maybe even soon, Cons will call you "Hitfire" hehe!"

Firing Range

Misfire followed the Constructicon's instructions, lining up a shot. He took it....and the shot hit the outer ring. He sighed and said, "Dammit. So close."

The Lounge

“But achieve you did something that others lay claim to cannot,” Weirdwolf persisted, trying to bring his friend out of his foul mood. “In actually wounding that which is impossible. A feat which not even could our resident destroyer of worlds do.” The thespian took another sip of his Mood Whiplash. “Feel not ill of yourself, Skullcruncher.”

”Bah.” Skullcruncher grunted in response to Weirdwolf, taking another swig of his drink - paying no attention at all to the ruckus behind him and Swindle's non-stop chatter pausing for a moment. ”That was a lucky hit if there's ever been one. Probably because the Fallen felt arrogant enough ignore me completely at that point. Still, even that lucky sword plunge almost cost me my slagging life – that retaliation hurt like nothing I have ever felt. And from what little I could witness through all that agony, I didn't see him slow down one bit.”

The look on Skullcruncher's face suddenly grew even more annoyed. ”Hear that? If that's not Brawl clanking in towards your fine new establishment about two corridors away from here... ghhn. So much for peace and quiet.”

“Aaaaand we’re here,” Blast-Off said, attempting to contain his enthusiasm, “Whoo. Can you maybe let me go, Brawl?” The solitary Combaticon tugged on the arm of Brawl who had constricted him into a headlock. “So we can get drinks. Why don’t you find a table? I’ll get the drinks.”

”Yeah! You do that! Get me something with a punch!” Releasing Blast-Off from the headlock, Brawl began immediately scanning for his surroundings. Number of Decepticons had taken it to themselves to gather into the Lounge for whatever purposes. He didn't really care. The main point was that pretty much everyone seemed to be busy stuffing themselves with liquid awesomeness that was spiced energon. That was exactly why they had made his way into the Lounge as well after all. He didn't have to look for long to find some familiar faces either, for Swindle and Vortex had already found their way in. ”Vortex! Swindle! Got anything left for me and Blast-Off?!”

Wait. There was something decisively wrong with Swindle. Brawl couldn't quite put his finger to it. Dents and gashes. No. Completely normal, he hadn't seen Swindle to go to the repair bay after the big fight. It was the demeanor. Yeah. That was off. Swindle was very likely the most upbeat mech he knew. This imposter appeared sour and clearly angry about something. ”Swindle?! What the frag is up with you?! Who I need to punch?!”

Whirling around, Wildrider chucked the half-empty glass at the back of Skullcruncher’s head. He gasped dramatically. “WHOA! Nice shot there, Breakdown. You teach that ugly as Pit lizard a lesson! You got bigger ball bearings than I thought.” Wildrider grinned and nudged Breakdown with his elbow companionably. “I owe you a couple shanix. Didn’t think you’d do it.”

KLONK.

Skullcruncher's optics darkened for a moment. Not because of the half-empty glass hitting the back of his head had hurt. No, that didn't even register as pain. His armor was simply too thick for that. It was the concept of someone here being stupid enough to throw something at him. It was the anger he had barely been able to keep in check pouring over.

As if nothing had happened, the massive swamp warrior took the last swig of his drink from the bottle of Brawler's brew and put the empty bottle on the counter before slowly rising up to his full height. Turning around to face the bunch of Stunticons who had decided to make the worst mistake of their evening, Skullcruncher's optics set ablaze. The situation must have felt awfully familiar to the trio of hooligans for if anything, they were staring at an enraged former pit fighter as big as their own dreaded squad leader – eying them up.

”Which one of you racer rejects just ordered a ticket to a scrapyard?” Skullcruncher growled, the sharp set of teeth he had even in robot form making a startling appearance as he sneered. ”Or is it all three at the price of one?”

At the Combaticon table, gears began to turn in Brawl's head as the Combaticon bruiser began rubbing his hands together. A brawl. He was going to get a brawl. Now he just needed a reason to start swinging. Anything. As soon as Blast-Off got him that first drink. Yeah.

Firing Range:

Bonecrusher patted Misfire on the shoulder and said, "No worries! You are remarkably improving."

Bonecrusher then looked as Misfire’s gun, “Hmm, I am thinking maybe you are either firing too quickly, or maybe you are even having a difficulty fighting the recoil. I’m thinking that you should try to aim just slightly lower than where the middle is to account for that heavy recoil. If you want you can practice with a less powerful gun first, but that’s your choice."

Firing Range

Misfire shakes his head at the thought of losing his gun. He says to Bonecrusher, "Nah, I'll have to her used to using this old thing. I call this piece 'Aimless', because of my lack of aim using it, and I have no intention of giving Aimless up."

Misfire aimed again, and fired. This time the shot still hit the outer rings, but was closer than the last shot. He exclaimed, "Ha!"

Firing Range:

“Very well,” Said Bonecrusher when Misfire didn’t want to replace his gun, “try the 'aiming slightly higher' technique.”

After Misfire took a shot, and the shot hit a little bit closer to the target, Bonecrusher exclaimed, “You are definitely improving! Seems that technique helps!"

Lounge


Wildrider was bored. Breakdown could sense it. And a bored Wildrider made Breakdown antsy. There just wasn't any telling what the nutbag would do when he was bored. He could-

“WHOA! Nice shot there, Breakdown. You teach that ugly as Pit lizard a lesson! You got bigger ball bearings than I thought. I owe you a couple shanix. Didn’t think you’d do it.”

Breakdown looked at his fellow Stunticon first in confusion and then in shock as he realized what had just happened in a matter of microseconds. The idiot went and threw a mug at Skullcruncher and was blaming him. What the what?!?

”Which one of you racer rejects just ordered a ticket to a scrapyard? Or is it all three at the price of one?"

"Wait-wha? No....he...uhhh-I didn't...I-I-I.....y'know..."

Breakdown just stammered, pointing idly at Wildrider all the while knowing that the beating that was coming was going to be all his.

Grrrreat.
___

”Vortex! Swindle! Got anything left for me and Blast-Off?!”

Sweet. More Combaticons. Vortex was liking this. Their team hadn't been able to sit around and swap energon and old stories since they were back on Cybertron.

"Yeah. Plenty. What're you guys drinking?" Vortex asked as he saw Blast-Off and Brawl close in.

Shockwave's Lab

"Hmm, I guess a new weapon is the best thing I can expect from this group until I prove myself worthy of something much better like maybe the respect I deserve. I'm not sure if Razorclaw is the mech to show that kind of respect unless I or at least us Triple changers take out an entire battalion of Autobots but even then he may think it is what to be expected."

A flicker on a screen caught Octane's attention for a moment. After looking a little closer at the screen, he sees a few Seekers who he wished would been slagged in the fight namely Starscream.

"Commander Shockwave, it looks like we got some company in the form of Starscream and his Seekers. How should we handle these guests?"

Med-Bay

“Good work, junior. Another case for the books. That’s a wrap! So…uh. What now?”

Mixmaster looked over at Scavenger quizzically before realizing he was just being playful. Such an interesting little mech. Always had been. Of course, much the same could be said of Mixmaster. In fact, he was sure that more than a few mechs thought he was completely glitched. Scrapper knew better though. He understood his team better than most commander types that Mixmaster had encountered. Probably why he had earned the loyalty of such a disparate crew.

"Hmmm...hmm hmm. I think..." Mixmaster stuttered, trying to place where all the team was. Scrapper went to the bridge. Hook went to...the lounge? With Bonecrusher. And of course there were the three of them here. So...

"Well, this is probably the only down time we're gonna get for a while, heheh, might as well make use of it, eh? Anyone thirsty?" he said as he headed off through the bay doors. The lounge sounded as good a place as any.
___

Bridge

When the door opened and Flamewar emerged, followed by Razorclaw, Scrapper stiffened his stance a little. He could only imagine what the new Decepticon leader and an individual like Flamewar might be discussing. He wasn't overly familiar with the black operative, but he knew that Megatron had never spoken ill of her during their occasional meetings to discuss the next big construction project.

“Commander Scrapper, my apologies for the wait, my friend. Please, if you will join me now, we have much to discuss.”

"None necessary, my lord," Scrapper said, offering a slight bow and observing the new formalities of their respective stations as he followed Razorclaw into the private room. Once the door had closed behind them, Scrapper wasted little time in getting right to the point of why he had come. After all, Razorclaw undoubtedly had much to deal with even in the aftermath of defeating such a powerful foe as the Fallen.

"I expect you might be somewhat surprised to see me. I'm not...well, I'm sure you know I'm not one to make waves in the Decepticon ranks. I have no love loss for individuals like Starscream and others who only put their own interests ahead of the cause. That being said...I believe recent developments necessitate that I come to you and clarify what exactly the role of my team will be in this new regime of yours."

Scrapper paused for a moment to allow that to register.

"Though I've been occupied as of late, and you now certainly know why I have been, it hasn't escaped my notice that you have garnered the direct support of other unit commanders like Onslaught and Motormaster in order to secure your bid for the throne you now sit upon. As much as I appreciated Megatron's respect for our work and his treatment of my subordinates, I know that we were little more than tools in his optics. I just...with Devastator now in play--I believe the Constructicons have earned more than that. We're now more than just tools for creating. Devastator will change the way this war is fought. Not to sound too, eh, demanding...but...I just think it's critical that I have a prime seat at whatever new inner circle you're creating for yourself."

Hanger

“Thanks, Nighty,” a relieved Skywarp said. “I knew I was missing something. Screamer would’ve had my tailpipe if his mission, whatever it is, failed because of something I overlooked.”

The Seeker femme nodded and carefully moved from in front of Skywarp giving him the space he needed to get up and slip by her.

“Well, I guess we’re done here. Nothing more for us to do. Let’s just stand guard outside the hatch while the engines continue to warm up and we wait for Starscream to get here.”

Nightraven said nothing; instead she watched for a moment as her companion left the cockpit and descended the ramp into the hanger. Once he was out of sight Nightraven leaned back over the console and flipped one more switch. She didn’t want to disappoint the teleporter by mentioning it; instead she waited to fix his one last oversight.

As soon as she was done Nightraven quickly left and jogged down the ramp. She stopped beside Skywarp and gave him an awkward smile.

“So, what do you think Screamer’s got up his sleeve this time? He seems intent on leaving the Thanatos for some reason. He never gave me an answer before, so I can’t help but wonder what his plan is.”

Her expression turned serious as she paused in thought. She was concerned about becoming involved in whatever Starscream had in the works. He may be the Seeker Commander but she wasn’t sure if he had the best interest of his underlings in mind.

“I’m not sure what he’s up to, but…” Nightraven bit her bottom lip as she tried to come up with the best way to phrase her response. She certainly didn’t want to upset Skywarp. He looked up to their Commander.

“I really don’t think he’s…that is…maybe getting too deeply involved isn’t in your, well, in our best interest.” She took his hand in her and gave it a light squeeze as she looked him square in the eyes. “Look, Skywarp, what I’m trying to say is I don’t want you to strain your neck looking up.”

Bridge

"Misplaced?! Th-that's impossible!" Onslaught stuttered as he struggled to wrap his processor around the idea of such a mishap. Soundwave on the other hand, only gave the Combaticon commander a quick glance before looking over to see Razorclaw about to disappear into the nearby briefing room. Though the communications officer was hoping to expand his range and ask to take a small venture out to the downed Ultrax, the lion-former's wish to have him remain onboard and continue to monitor the upkeep was the more logical idea. He pressed several keys hidden underneath a slab of forearm-mounted armor and sent the gathered data files over to the Combaticon commander. The Crimson visor of the blue and white Decepticon then released Ratbat from his hold within his chest.

"Assist Onslaught in whatever measure he needs." He commanded the violet bat with his usual monotone. "Anyone else is welcome to follow." Soundwave then peered across the bridge towards his supreme commander to finish what little of a conversation they had going. "Understood, Lord Razorclaw." Was all Soundwave responded with towards the Predacon turned Supreme Commander.

"Consider it done." Onslaught replied shortly after Razorclaw gave his order, huffing and grumbling as he spun around on his heel and made his exit out from the main bridge doors.

Lounge

Dead End merely sighed in disappointment as Skullcruncher approached their table, offering the Stunticons the beatdown special of a lifetime. He could only sit there and curse Wildrider under his breath while the crocodilian warrior stood before them waiting on some sort of answer.

"I take it it's too late for me to move anywhere away from this table then?"

Needlenose froze in his spot as he watched Skullcruncher remove himself from his seat to approach the little racer's table. He could quickly read the room and knew there was there was enough tension building to choke each of the heads off a Quint. Knowing Windsweeper would leap at the chance to clean up the shattered glass, he stuck his arm out between the janitorial mech and the counter edge.

Warwolf, having taken a sip of his latest round shot a curious glance over the shoulder of the large green and magenta warrior confronting the Stunticons. Another shift of the optics placed his vision on the mech who appeared to be itching for a chance to live up his own namesake. Brawl. The chances of this mess subsiding now we're beginning to look slim.

"This is where the fun begins..." The lupine interrogator muttered lowly under his breath as he slowly reached for one of his many trick knives fastened around his waist, his sharp-pointed actuators dancing around one of the various hilts.

Blitzwing lifted his drink for the sanitation engineer to squeeze his cleaning rag under neath where his cup rested. He used the opportunity to take another swig from his frothy beverage before setting the glass down with his opposite hand.

The tan and violet commando was about to reply to Windsweeper's previous response when he heard the shattering of glass that had just hit the back of Skullcruncher's processor. He shifted his visor around to see the crocodilian warrior rise from his seat and approach the Stunticons with a look of pure rage plastered on his faceplating. Blitzwing sneered a toothy grin as he fed off the increasing tension filling the room, his hand floating from the top of the bar counter towards the hilt of his energon scimitar.

Smells like Round 2's about to begin!

Med Bay

"Well, this is probably the only down time we're gonna get for a while, heheh, might as well make use of it, eh? Anybody thirsty?"

"Oh now we're talking!" Long Haul excited proclaimed as the last of the liquid nitrogen had thawed from his chassis and he kicked his feet off the edge of the medical slab. His arms rose high above his head as he let out a sigh of relief and stretched out some underused joints and pistons. "Let's buy something that won't freeze my fuel pump this time!"

Briefing Room

Once inside the briefing room, Razorclaw turned to face the Constructicon Commander as the door slid shut behind him. The Predacon lord leaned back against the edge of the conference table as Scrapper began to speak. The green mech got right down to business, stating that he wasn’t looking to make any waves within the ranks and that he had no love for those like Starscream. However, Scrapper did want to clarify what role he and his team would have within the new Predacon regime, especially considering the fact that Devastator was now in play. Megatron had considered them to be mere tools for building, but now they were something much more than just builders. They were destroyers, as well.

Finally, Scrapper came right out and said what Razorclaw had been expecting to hear. The Constructicon Commander wanted a prime seat in the lion-former’s inner-circle, knowing full well that the other specialty team leaders were already on board in such a fashion. This was not an unreasonable request and was one that Razorclaw had already intended to grant Scrapper from the very beginning even before Devastator's arrival.

Of course, Scrapper had likely wanted the throne for himself and his team initially, intending to use the gestalt to rule the empire. It was why he had kept it such a closely guarded secret. Then the Fallen business happened and the combiner was needed sooner than expected and the secret was out. Having witnessed Devastator in action first hand made a few things very clear to Razorclaw. While big and powerful, the combiner was also slow and had a seemingly low intelligence, which was odd considering that many of the individual Constructicons were some of the brightest minds in the empire. A side effect of the gestalt process, perhaps?

Regardless, Devastator was a massive weapon, but it had its limitations. Its sheer size, while not an issue in wide open places, was an issue in most indoor environments such as the Thanatos. Thus, ruling the empire would prove difficult when the Constructicons could not combine and defend themselves against other potential challengers for the throne. Furthermore, isolating one of them has the same result – Devastator can’t form. Scrapper has likely realized all of this and now simply wanted a place by the Predacon lord’s side, a place that would at least give him some say over how the Constructicons would be treated from this point forward. It was understandable. The lion-former would want the same thing for his team, as well.

After Scrapper was finished speaking, Razorclaw pushed himself away from the table and stood tall a few feet from the smaller Constructicon Commander. The lion-former waited for a few astroseconds before finally giving his response. “And you shall have it, my friend,” the Predacon lord said as he approached and placed a firm hand on Scrapper’s shoulder. “One of the main reasons I took the throne was for us, the specialty teams. My Predacons, the Combaticons, Stunticons and your Constructicons, all of us united together. We have all been used as tools, under appreciated in the past, but now that changes. We will lead the Decepticon Empire into the future and finally defeat our enemy, the Autobots, once and for all! We will do this together with me as your leader, who views you as much more than just a simple tool, but as a vital part in the ever expanding empire.”

Razorclaw paused for a moment, removing his hand from Scrapper’s shoulder and taking a step back. “Honestly, I must apologize for not bringing you into my inner circle sooner. I had sent Onslaught down to the undersea base to speak with you awhile ago, but I’m not sure how much he was able to convey before the battle in the hangar and then the Fallen situation occurred. We got sidetracked, I’m afraid, but I never intended to leave you out, Scrapper. You have always been an important part of my new regime even before I had ascended to the throne.

“Of course, that is especially true now with Devastator in play. What you have been able to achieve with the gestalt process will dramatically change how specialty teams are viewed from this point forward and how this war will ultimately be fought! It is a true testament to you and your team’s abilities. I commend you!”

As silence filled the room once again, the lion-former moved back over to the observation window that looked out onto the lunar surface. “With your support, Scrapper, we will create an army of gestalts that will crush the Autobots underneath their very feet. Our enemies will not stand a chance against our might. We will finally have the victory Megatron had always envisioned with an empire that spans across the known universe. Peace through tyranny. With your help, my friend, the slagmaker’s ideals will be made a reality.”

Razorclaw turned back to look at the Constructicon leader once more. “Can I count on you, Commander Scrapper, as one of my chief lieutenants, to help me bring glory to the Empire and destroy the Autobots once and for all?”

Hangar Bay

As Skywarp stood guard at the bottom of the shuttle’s entrance ramp, he listened to Nightraven’s response to his prior query. She didn’t seem to know what the Seeker Commander had up his metallic sleeve. She was also clearly reluctant for either one of them to get involved any further than they both already were, thinking that it wasn’t in their best interests. The seeker femme didn’t appear to fully trust Starscream for some reason. Her last comment about not straining his neck looking up made the teleporter cock his cranial unit to one side in bewilderment.

“Straining my neck? Looking up? What?” Skywarp replied as he gazed up towards the hangar ceiling before returning his attention to Nightraven astroseconds later, a look of confusion etched across his faceplate. “Um, I’m not sure what you mean by that last part, Nighty, but I think we can trust Screamer to look out for us. I mean, he wants to be leader and that can only be in our best interests, right?”

Skywarp paused for a moment, turning his head to look out across the hangar as a pair of vehicons crisscrossed the vast chamber. The prankster’s optics fixated on the doors, hoping to see Starscream walk through them within the next few astroseconds. The longer it took for him to arrive the greater the chance that someone of higher rank might come through the area and notice the teleporter and Nighty just loitering around by the shuttle. When the Seeker Commander did not show yet, ‘Warp looked back at the aerial femme.

“I’m sure Starscream knows what he’s doing,” Skywarp stated with confidence. “But, if you’re trying to say that you don’t want to go along with him when he leaves then I understand. You know, it might be better if we stay behind anyway. If too many of us seekers disappear that might be noticed more by Razorclaw and his brood.” The prankster stopped again, letting out a deep sigh. “I don’t know. I’ll just go where you go I guess.”

The Lounge

”Well, my drink of course!” Brawl bellowed in response to Vortex's question, emphasing his point by roughly patting the Combaticon interrogator's shoulder while keeping his optics focused on Skullcruncher and the trio of Stunticons in anticipation for the volatile situation to explode. Though by the looks of its, Skullcruncher's seemed to have made his decision, having focused his glare at Wildrider instead of Breakdown and Dead End. Brawl would have punched all of them from the fun of it but it was likely the other two would get theirs anyway. Well, probably after Wildrider had said his piece, it seemed like the big guy was waiting for that.

”The one with my name innit!” Brawl exclaimed, turning to look at Vortex with somewhat puzzled tone in his voice, ”That brew I always drink?!”

”And seriously Swindle! What the slag?!” He added, his optics meeting the munitions expert his impatience bringing more anger into his even normally raging way of communication. ”Spit it out already!”


The Corridor leading to the Bridge

Having dealt with Drag Strip for now, Motormaster had set his sights higher – mainly to reunite with the other members of their rebellious triumvirate – Razorclaw and Onslaught. He had been dishing out punishment on the yellow racer long enough for the other two to probably cook out a plan or dozen. Both were tactically gifted schemers after all. To his surprise - just as he took the last turn to enter the corridor leading into the bridge, he almost walked into the leader of the Combaticons who clearly was in hurry to go somewhere.

Hurry or not, Motormaster wanted some answers and Onslaught was just the 'con to provide them. ”What's the hurry, eh?” Motormaster chuckled, flashing Onslaught a wicked grin he was known for, Drag Strip's energon splattered across his frame making his appearance even more unnerving – not that it would have much on an effect on someone as battlehardened as Onslaught. ”How about a sit-rep Onslaught? I recall you being quite good with those and I on the other hand,” Motormaster's look darkened, ”Seem to have fallen bit behind on what the slag is happening around here.”

Near Shockwave's Lab

Starscream strode toward the scientist's lair with a lot on his mind. He wasn't sure how to go about what he wanted. Chaos? Not really. That would alert the entire ship. It might help cover his getaway, but surely Razorclaw would send his goons after him. He needed to be gone without being noticed. Hopefully, that goof Skywarp did as he was told and the shuttle would be ready.

"Lock On." Starscream said. "Do you have your weapons activated? You may need to cover me, just in case."

Starscream stopped in the corridor, and looked back behind him.

"Vertigo, go down to the shuttle bay and make sure Skywarp and his...helper have everything ready." he said, then smirked. "And that we won't be running into an ambush."

Shockwave's Laboratory

Shockwave's singular optic settled on Octane momentarily as the triple-changer vented his frustrations, his acceptance of the overall situation and his desires to attain some undefinable level of respect that he felt he did not possess already. An illogical pursuit, in Shockwave's estimation, but he knew many within the Decepticon ranks who held such views and were discontented with their station and function, to one degree or another.

"Declarative: when that happens, it will require a reassessment of your collective skills on all our parts," Shockwave stated evenly, the humor so dry that only Soundwave would have a chance of detecting it. The triple-changers were effective and useful, but the probability of their successfully eliminating an entire Autobot battalion were statistically insignificant.

"Commander Shockwave, it looks like we got some company in the form of Starscream and his Seekers. How should we handle these guests?"

Shockwave's gaze shifted and he saw that, indeed, the Seeker Leader was not far from the Military Operations Commander's private workspace. What exactly did he want? With Starscream, the possibilities were nigh endless. Moreover, Starscream would be keenly aware of the fact that Shockwave was the original designer of this vessel and would not be oblivious to his presence. He expected Shockwave to respond, even if no communication had been sent. In this instance, he would oblige him.

"Declarative: you will have your answer, Octane," Shockwave said, before opening up a direct link to the Seeker Leader. >>"Interrogative: do you require assistance, Starscream? You appear lost."<<
___

Bridge

Razorclaw's first words were effectively a granting of Scrapper's wishes. Of course it made sense, of course. With his team occupied on the Terran mainland, the fight for leadership, the Fallen, all of it had conspired to keep Scrapper away from having any significant role in the transition away from Megatron's loss to something, anything, that could maintain stability. Razorclaw had relied on what was accessible--Onslaught and Motormaster. But Scrapper and his unit had not been forgotten. Good. Very good. The Constructicon Commander was very satisfied with that response.

Unsurprisingly, Razorclaw saw the same potential in the process that had created Devastator that Scrapper did. If this could be achieved with the six members of his unit, then who else? It was a rigorous process, but surely they and the Monstructor Six from long ago, and even perhaps Nexus Prime if the old, old legends were to be believed, were not the only Cybertronians in the whole of history who were compatible with this process. There were surely others. There had to be.

“Can I count on you, Commander Scrapper, as one of my chief lieutenants, to help me bring glory to the Empire and destroy the Autobots once and for all?” Razorclaw finished, putting an inspiring cap on everything that he had already said up to this point.

"You can, mighty Razorclaw," Scrapper said in his typically raspy voice, offering the Decepticon Supreme Leader another respectful bow. "If you have no different orders, I will begin screening candidates to undergo the process. If you would...erm...call off Onslaught's lieutenants and allow Hook to work as he will? I assure you, Devastator will not run amok on this vessel, regardless of any fears to the contrary."