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Hangar

Skywarp hovered high above the hangar floor, firing down on Frenzy and Ravage when his audio receptors caught the sound of his name coming from a short distance away. The teleporter immediately ceased his attack on Soundwave’s little minions and turned his attention to the source of the vocals. It was Nightraven and by the looks of things she was in serious trouble. “Nighty!” The prankster exclaimed, forgetting all about the cassetticons and rushing down to the seeker femme’s side.

Cutting his foot thrusters, Skywarp landed easily next to Nightraven, taking her outstretched hand into his own. Her actuators were covered with energon, which was still pouring out of a gapping neck wound. “Dear Primus, Nighty, what have you gotten yourself into now?! It looks like you’ve been bitten!” An animal-former had done this. Ravage, perhaps? No, the mechanical jaguar had been too preoccupied with attacking the teleporter. It couldn’t have been him. That left only Ratbat, who was known to have razor-sharp fangs and an affinity for biting and draining his prey.

Unfortunately, revenge against that little vampiric cassetticon would have to wait for the time being as Skywarp quickly placed his free hand against the side of Nightraven’s neck, hoping to help ease the flow of the purple life-giving fluid. It was all that the teleporter could do considering that he was not a medic of any kind. The situation reminded him of that Earthen desert where he was placed in charge of a diversionary mission to obtain fuel from an oil field. Nightraven had been badly injured there, as well, and the prankster had been able to do very little for her with the exception of what she told him before falling into stasis. Now, things seemed to be repeating themselves and the teleporter still felt just as useless as before.

“Nighty, stay calm. I’ll get you some help,” Skywarp said to the wounded femme, not caring that his back was now turned to Soundwave’s minions. Let them attack him from behind. He didn’t care. Nightraven was all that mattered now. He needed to ensure her survival. Besides, from what he could tell the battle within the hangar had all but stopped, save for a new challenge from Thunderwing, but that didn’t involve him so it also mattered little. ‘Warp needed to get Nightraven some immediate help and fast or she could very well die in his arms. He thought about teleporting her down to the med bay, but there was no one there to help patch her up before a CR chamber could take over. ‘Warp considered trying to repair her, himself, like before, but then he remembered that there was already a mechanic nearby who could help save her.

“KNOCKOUT!!” Skywarp bellowed, looking over his shoulder plate at the crimson and gold mech who was standing near the big ‘Con called Clutch. “Get your aft over here! I need your help! Nightraven’s injured and she needs medical attention now!!”

Hangar

Thunderwing almost smiled as what had started as a duel rapidly descended into a pile on fight against himself. They thought him weak, unworthy, a mere scientist trying to grasp the reigns of command from a weakened foe. Perhaps it wasn’t the most honorable move on his part. Perhaps this was to be his test of worthiness, to prove himself against these lesser Decepticons. He would remind them what the Warlord of Valkasta was capable of. If he had to take command of the Empire over the shattered corpses of the Predacons and Combaticons, then so be it!

The Decepticon landed on the ground after Razorclaw dodged his attack. He quickly re-ignited his thrusters, turning and launching himself back through the air, dodging Razorclaw’s fire and avoiding the clumsy charges of Divebomb and Tantrum. The Predacons were the greatest hunters in the Decepticon ranks, but they were giving in to their animal instincts now. If these attacks were the best they could offer then they would not be missed.

An X-ray laser struck him in the back, eliciting a sharp stab of pain. Thunderwing flipped in the air, rolling up and landing on one knee, cyclone cannon in one hand and his laser cannon in the other. The source of the fire was the Combaticon flier Blast-Off. It appeared that they were attempting a more sophisticated attack then the blind melee charges of the Predacons. It would be a shame to terminate them, but he wouldn’t hesitate to do so. He fired two shots from his cyclone cannon, sending tornado like winds up into the air at the Combaticon.

Thunderwing grunted as he absorbed a shot from Onslaught’s stun gun. A single shot wasn’t nearly enough to take him down, but it showed the danger of the Combaticon commander. Without him his team would be less then effective. Thunderwing snarled as he leveled his laser cannon at the Combaticon leader. “I expected much better from you Onslaught. How many of your soldiers will die now in this chaos?” He opened fire with the weapon, 4 shots erupting from the separate barrels in quick succession.

“Is this how its going to be Razorclaw! Must I tear through every Decepticon who swore fealty to you until there are none left but you! You cling so dearly to your leadership that you will throw away all of those that you lead!”

The Decepticon warlord stood and charged back into the fray. He opened fire with both the cyclone cannon, laser cannon and his shoulder mounted electrostatic rifles. He unleashed the unholy torrent of fire indiscriminately, aiming towards Divebomb, Tantrum and Razorclaw. He would test both the honor and mettle of Razorclaw. Would he see reason and surrender, or would he throw his troops into fire and death?

*

Ratbat zipped through the air, cackling at his victory over the seeker. He hadn’t had that much fun since he had been stuck in this primitive, diminutive form. It wasn’t often that he got to engage in combat, and rarer still that he got to take down a much larger opponent single handedly. Perhaps he could ask for an increase in energon rations after this victory. Certainly he deserved it, even if his tanks were nearly overflowing with the fuel he had taken from the femme.

The fuel scout glanced around the room, taking in the action around him. Apparently Shockwave was down at the hands of Razorclaw. The Predacon’s victory was short lived as now Thunderwing challenged him for leadership. Decepticon leadership changes were so inefficient. He had offered to write up some official documents detailing the chain of command for Megatron in the past should he perish, but he had never gotten a response from him. Now they were all paying the price.

He then spotted the unconscious form of Soundwave. His first reaction was to laugh once again. He loathed the other Decepticon. It was he that had imprisoned him in this form, turned him from a senator to a mere lackey! Perhaps this was how he would meet his end at last!

On the other hand Soundwave did extend a certain protection to him. He was a powerful patron of sorts, and without him he would find himself a bit more exposed to some of the rougher elements of Decepticon society. With the turmoil going on around them now it was probably a very poor time to lose that patronage. Letting out a loud sigh he swooped down towards Soundwave, contacting the other cassetticons as he went.

>>”Alright you idiots, Soundwave is down! Rally to my position so we can protect our ‘dear’ leader!”<<

Rumble picked himself off the floor where he had been thrown once again. Fortunately the seeker he’d been fighting appeared to be down for the count now. He quickly jogged over to Soundwave.

His initial attack having failed, Ravage kept on the move from Skywarp’s attacks. With his teleporting around he would be difficult to pin down. Perhaps if he could back him up against a wall, or back himself up against a wall. At the very least it wouldn’t allow him to teleport behind him, as that was his main battle tactic. He received the signal from Ratbat just as Skywarp broke off his attack. He ran towards Soundwave, Frenzy trailing behind him.

Hallways

Shadowing walked beside the others as they carried Shockwave. On the outside he was as calm and professional as always. Internally, however, he wrestled with the temptation to complete the work that Razorclaw had begun out of sheer frustration. At the end, however, he resisted.

"Well done so far. His internal systems seem to continue to be stable. There is no need to hurry. Just keep this pace."

Hangar

It was clear to Breakdown that there was still a battle going on. He had crawled as cautiously as he could, but he still ended up taking a stray shot in his leg that made him hiss in pain.

"Watch where you're shooting! Slag. I'm on your side," Breakdown vented as he moved, quietly enough so that hopefully no one with any serious firepower would hear him. He was on their side after all. It's not like he wanted Megatron's throne or anything. He and the rest of the Stunts would go back to being crazed warriors of whoever ultimately did fill that spot. He had to admit though, putting his fist into the faces of some of his fellow 'Cons with no consequences had felt great.

Crawling up next to Dead End, he looked at the damage. He wasn't a medic in any sense of the word and, truth be told, he wasn't that concerned about it. They were Decepticons. This kinda stuff just happened to them. And especially to the Stunticons. And usually because of Motormaster. From the looks of him though, he wouldn't be touching them for a while.

Heh.

"You awake in there, sunshine?" Breakdown said, looking over the injuries that Dead End had sustained. "Geez, you've seen better days. You need to see a doc. Too bad I'm not one. Hmmmmm. No. Really. Wake the hell up. Please?"
___

Corridors

Shockwave registered movement and fractional changes in lift, but his sensory suite was so disrupted that he could not rely upon any of the information that he was haphazardly receiving.

What did register was the reality that he had suffered critical damage. That was something to be taken seriously under normal circumstances, given Shockwave's unique internal design and reactor system. But with the ultra-energon infusion it had become an even more critical reality.

"......contain....ment.....imperative...."

Hangar

Blast-Off was pleased with himself when his X-ray laser hit it’s mark - the back of the carapace-laced scientist who thought himself worthy of the Decepticon throne. Unfortunately, the strike did little to affect the warlord who quickly recovered and fired off a pair of shots from his powerful cyclone cannon. The space warrior had little room to make any sudden maneuvers and thus was quickly engulfed in the dueling swirls of the tornado-like winds. The X-37B was first pushed violently upward until the Earth vehicle struck the ceiling with a loud thud before then spinning out of control back down towards the hangar floor.

Oh, slaggit!! No! No! No! Get control! Get control, dammit!!! Blast-Off’s thoughts were fast and erratic as he desperately tried to regain control of himself but to no avail. Down he went as the spaceplane continued an uncontrollable spin that made him look more like his teammate, Vortex, than the elite space warrior that he considered himself to be. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Blast-Off crashed hard into a stack of metal crates, which helped to break his fall but not by much.

“Ahhhhhhhh!!” Blast-Off screamed as he tumbled wing tip over wing tip, transforming back into robot mode as he came to a stop against a far wall as containers fell down all around him. “Ow,” the once proud space warrior muttered as he tried to regain his equilibrium, but without much luck. Instead, the best he could manage was to sit up, his back against a bulkhead as the battle continued on without him, at least for the time being.

>>”Commander Onslaught, I’m down....but not out. My equilibrial systems just need time to....recalibrate, and then I’ll be back in action better than before! I....I just need a moment.”<<
_________

While Razorclaw was disappointed that none of his shots hit the Valkastan warlord, it was not entirely unexpected. Thunderwing would be a much tougher foe to beat as he was not hindered by logic nor was he tired in any way. His almost impenetrable carapace certainly didn’t help matters as it became increasingly clear by watching the scientist fight off the others that his shell must be pierced in order to beat him. But how? The technology seemed almost perfect by design. Still, there had to be a weakness somewhere, perhaps, along one of the seams. It was just a matter of getting close enough to pry one’s sword in there and see if it gave way under pressure.

Thunderwing’s words elicited a chuckle from the Predacon Commander. Who was this mech, hiding behind technology, to question Razorclaw regarding honor and a fair fight? The warlord was nothing more than a coward, himself, who belonged toiling away in a laboratory alongside the already beaten Shockwave and not sitting on the throne to the Decepticon Empire. The lion-former was about to respond when a sudden hail of firepower was launched in his direction. He immediately looked to his nearest Predacons. “Tantrum, take evasive action! Divebomb, transform and take off! NOW!”

Razorclaw then scooped up a vehicon torso and threw it directly at an incoming laser blast, the lifeless body exploding into a fiery display that forced the Predacon lord to shield his faceplate from flying shrapnel and debris. He then felt the powerful wind blast from Thunderwing’s cyclone cannon which propelled Razorclaw back through the air much like it had done to Blast-Off. However, this time the end result was different as the lion-former transformed into beast mode in mid air and swiftly twisted his body around, landing on all fours as his claws dug into the floor to stop his backwards momentum.

Staying low to the ground, the mechanical lion was able to avoid the remaining electrostatic shots from his advancing adversary, but more would surely follow and quickly. He needed to get in close to Thunderwing, try and either force the carapace from his body or perhaps talk him into coming out voluntarily, if that was even possible. Either way, shooting back and forth at one another was growing tiresome and could go on endlessly unless a new strategy was introduced. The Predacon lord had one such strategy in mind.

“So, you think I hide behind my supporters, Thunderwing? You think I cannot defeat you without their assistance?! You are truly one to talk considering you, yourself, are hiding behind an armored shell that has granted you additional strength and powers that you do not naturally possess! I tell you what, I’ll order my supporters to stand down, but only if the REAL you comes out of your carapace and fights me one on one in hand to hand combat! What do you say, Warlord of Valkasta? Do you have the courage or will YOU continue to fail when it comes to honor?"

Hangar

Dead End was bathed in golden light. An... eternal warmth, a fountain of soothing and tranquility. Was it... his passing onto another realm? Was he to become one with creation? Was that the end he so dreaded to be claimed by one orn? It... it was magnificent. He should not have dreaded it... but embrace it. Welcome it.

You awake in there, sunshine?

The golden light froze and broke apart into a million tiny fragments that scattered away and faded into darkness.

Pain returned. And vision, too. Blurry and smudged, but his optics definitely transmitted data.

A face. A familiar face. Breakdown.

'I... am... now,' Dead End stammered grudgingly, barely audible. The bastard must have come to pay back for the torment his paranoia made him believe his comrades used to inflict upon him, by not allowing Dead End to meet doom with any semblance of dignity. Seeing the gloomy mech for the wreck he was at that very moment and making him fully aware of it. Agony.

You need to see a doc. Too bad I'm not one. Hmmmmm. No. Really. Wake the hell up. Please?

Or maybe not. Heh, if Dead End just up and went away, who would be there for Breakdown to project his fears on to?

'Alri...ght... alright...' said Dead End, forcing his vocoder to articulate in a recognizable way this time. His actuator twitched as he tried to get a grip on Breakdown and somehow push himself up.

------------------------------------------------------------------

'Graaah!' Tantrum roared as he continuously chopped with his sword but was utterly unable to land a single hit on Thunderwing. The slagger was clad in some sort of suit or armour that made him almost impossibly swift. Typical. Hopping around on bursts of thruster flares instead of standing to fight like a mech. Like a Decepticon.

But what burned Tantrum with the most anger was that even so, he could not touch him. Some four or five were on the Valckastan but they all barely left a scratch.

Tantrum, take evasive action!

That was Razorclaw. One of the few mechs whose voice always penetrated the red berzerker haze that tended to seize Tantrum during intense or prolonged confrontations. But even as it did, just stopping to register it and allowing enough reason to reassert itself in Tantrum's mind to comply with the order left him vulnerable for a second.

A second, during which weaponry as advanced as Thunderwing's battlesuit was equipped with could lock on to a target and fire.

And hit.

Tantrum was flung back and slammed against the wall as the blast caught him in the chest-section. The wall paneling bucked where he had crashed into it. He fell to one knee. But he didn't drop his sword.

Tantrum... felt that. It was a heavy blow. With an angry growl, he looked up.

And was about to rush the Valckastan again when Razorclaw called for an honour bout. Tantrum roared. There it was, again. He had to reign in his anger. He wanted to let it go. It frustrated him beyond belief that he could not do so. Well, unless Thunderwing refused. In that case, in the case of abandoning the notion of honor, there would be no saving him from the combined rage of the Predacons.

Hissing and growling in restraint, Tantrum stood up and observed. But his gait did not loosen. He was ready to strike.

Hangar

Breakdown was actually a little surprised when Dead End responded. From the looks of him, the odds of even that happening were pretty sketchy. He didn't know what to feel about that, really. They weren't exactly a team that was built around camaraderie and...well...whatever those other things were that those Autobots like to spout off about when they were in battle. But he had to admit that he had grown a little closer to Dead End in particular within the recent orns, all the way back to that little fuel raid in Kansas which was a complete riot. Good times. Breakdown was surprised they hadn't gotten some kind of formal reprimand for what went on down there.

What was going on up here was probably the only reason they hadn't had their metal bent over that whole mess.

And now here they were, not fighting for their survival, but fighting for.......who was he kidding? They weren't fighting for anything. Motormaster said fight? They fought.

And the fight clearly wasn't over. But it appeared to be not focused on them anymore. At least not as much as it had been. The scrapped metal laying all over the hangar was proof of that. Fluids. Fires. Everything that one could imagine.

"Huh....alright. I didn't think it'd be that easy," Breakdown said, looking at the battle damage that Dead End had suffered, especially the massive one on--and in--his chest. Breakdown hadn't come out of this melee with anywhere near that kind of damage. Kind of surprising too. Breakdown figured Headstrong would have taken his chance to flatten him. He just knew that uni-horned Predacon had it in for him. But that was neither here nor there. No. Here was a mangled Stunticon who--he guessed--might actually, partially be worth the effort it would take to get him to the med bay.

"Gah. Alright, maybe you better not try to move too much on your own. That looks gross," Breakdown said as he grabbed one of Dead End's forearms and started to drag him across the hangar floor and through the occasional fallen, sparking Vehicon. Med bay bound!

((OOC: Can you believe this one took me two days and the G9 one took me only a few hours? That's just cray cray!))

Hangar

“Oh you have got to be kidding me?” The crimson and gold doctor grumbled lowly when the annoying sound of Skywarp’s voice hit his audios. From behind Clutch, Knockout dared a quick peek in the Seeker’s direction. It would seem that the teleporter’s little love interest got mangled in some kind of altercation. It figured. Knockout smirked before ducking back behind the larger mech.

The doctor patted Clutch on the back before stepping out from behind him and taking out a Vehicon with his energon prod. In that moment of calm he took a look in Skywarp’s direction and elbowed his assistant lightly to get Clutch’s attention. “Someone has bellowed. I’ll need to go check on the glitch who couldn’t handle things. I don’t need ‘Warp trashing this…”he gestured to his entire body. “…you’d never be able to replicate this kind of perfection if it ever came down to it.” Knockout flashed the large ‘Con a dashing smirk before he quickly headed to both Seekers.

The impromptu doctor slid to a halt and crouched down next to Skywarp and Nightraven. He looked quickly at the sizable pool of fluids beneath the femme and then looked to her neck where the wound had obviously originated.

His face scrunched up in disgust as he reached out, and just using the tips of his fingers, carefully lifted up Nightraven’s hand. “Well now. Tsk Tsk Tsk” He released her hand suddenly letting it drop down. The femme cringed and hissed in pain. Knockout shook his head slightly before he cast his optics on Skywarp. “I hope you have a backup femme. I hear this one has a sister.” He smiled and chuckled for a moment. He quieted down and looked from the purple and black Seeker to his patient. “You know, that’s a lot of energon. Maybe too much.” Knockout pursed his lips into a thin line as he thought for a moment. “Might as well move her to my lab.” He stared at Skywarp for a long moment and stood up. “Pick her up and follow me.”

(OOC: I believe it, Em! I've been there myself!)

Hangar

Skywarp was non too pleased with Knockout’s half-baked attempt at being humorous in an otherwise serious and dire situation. Did this lowly mechanic have a death wish or was he just like every other member of the Decepticon ranks who didn’t take the resident prankster seriously? Either way, ‘Warp wasn’t in the mood for jokes. He just wanted Nightraven to be okay without having to endure the crimson warrior’s stupid comments. And if that meant making some terroristic threats in order to get what he wanted, then so be it.

“Look, Knockout,” Skywarp began as he stood to full height, lifting Nightraven up in his arms. “I don’t want a back-up femme, especially not Hellion. I just want you to fix Nighty! Understand? Now, if you can’t do that without making your idiotic remarks, I’ll just have to teleport you into that mudball’s atmosphere and watch your perfect finish burn up on re-entry! Have I made myself very clear, pretty boy?!”

Skywarp sent a stern glare in Knockout’s direction as he followed the mechanic out of the hangar and towards his lab. The prankster then gazed down at Nightraven who was nestled securely in his arms but barely conscious now. “Stay with me, Nighty,” the concerned seeker said as he gently shook the wounded femme to keep her awake. “We’ll be in Knockout’s lab shortly. Then he’ll have you patched up in no time. Just hang on, okay? Just hang on!”

Hangar

That looks gross.

Of course, it looked gross. He got punched through the chestplate by Shock-slagging-wave, the not exactly sane cyclopean scientist himself. One of the few who could floor everyone's favorite play-buddy Motormaster and walk away with only a few scratches to tell the tale.

Ore-13... my aft, Dead End mused, insomuch as his condition allowed him to muse.

'Hey... Br..eaker...,' he blurted, his voice grating from in-laced static. Vocalizer near-busted. Wonderful. Fluid trickled through a crack on his faceplate. 'I don'...t... say... this of...ten...but... thanks...'

Dead End didn't like Breakdown. He didn't like anybody, not as others understood the term. Yeah, some guys made neat carcasses, pleasing to Dead End's sense of aesthetics but he never actually arrived to the point of emotional attachment. Still, in that moment, he felt towards his fellow Stunticon something that he could only describe as gratitude.

No matter the whispers of peace and cease of all pain his impeding end promised him, he just wasn't ready to step through that gate yet, and certainly not like this. The only thing worse than anyone seeing him in his current state was actually passing away in his current state. Breakdown did save him from the bigger of two embarrasments.

A bump. Ouch. Something passed beneath him - or he passed over it - as he was dragged farther away from the still ongoing clash of swords and energy weapons. Pain coursed through him from the sudden motion.

'Wat...ch... the... pain...tjob...,' he said. A scratching noise followed, which would have left his synthesizer as laughter on a better day. This was so pathetic it was almost comical. He had survived a grievous injury but might just cease to function on his way out of the field after all, if Breakdown kept yanking him so hard, across piles of debris and remains of... well, guys.

The pair he and Dead End made... oh, miserable little beings, the two of them.

Corridors

Shadowing was annoyed at Shockwave picking now to speak but his ever professional exterior would not demonstrate it. After so many cycles it was now a firm program within his systems although the current situation was certainly challenging it.

"All necessary steps are being taken." He said calmly to Shockwave and then switched to a private communication line.

"Please send all future updates on your condition to me through out private channel. If the others felt that any danger was imminent they will hesitate to continue their current task which we cannot afford."

Corridors

Crueljaw watched Weirdwolf carefully move them forward while Crueljaw looked at the boss his internal monologue was one of various ways he was going to turn Razorclaw into a carpet rug. He looked at the damage to the cycloptic scientist it was pretty nasty his internal sensors showed that he was leaking minor radiation. Fluids seemed to be dripping from the back of his body as he heard Landgrab speak “yeah I’m so happy we’re back in the same space” he said his tone as flat as Shockwaves.

Crueljaw desperately wanted to pick up the pace but he knew that the commander had a reactor that powered his systems jumping that around with his current injuries would be unhelpful if it went critical. He then heard Shadowing speak mere instances after the injured commander uttered some words that Crueljaw heard all too clearly.

“How did Razorclaw get so strong taking on the boss now fighting Thunderwing it’s not like him he’s usually more patient than this. Also my sensors are registering something odd with the energon like its tainted or super high grade” Crueljaw directed the question at Shadowing things had gone on while he was on earth and now come to a head on returning to the Thanatos resulting in Shockwave being injured.

Crueljaw grumbled aloud
“This wouldn’t of happened if Megatron was still around”

"You are correct." Shadowing said flatly to Crueljaw. "Megatron would have just challenged whoever sought his position and defeated him in single combat. The damage done to the cause would have been minimal."

He paused what he had to say for a moment as he looked over the readings once more.

"Sadly, it seems that Megatron's one great failure will be an inability to leave something that could survive without him. At the end of the day does it really matter how they got so powerful or who wins? There will be more challengers and that is just this ship. Somewhere out there is Scorponok and his forces. I am sure he will have a say in this matter before it is all over."

Hangar

Even as he had attempted to subdue the Valckastan Warlord, he couldn't help but admire the technology that was being used. He didn't understand it in terms of its design or how it came to be, but he certainly understood how it could be used. The primary problem at the moment was that it was being used against him.

Even if one shot had gone stray, another found its mark, exploding against Onslaught's upper torso, followed by another and maybe another after that. Onslaught's internal systems temporarily stopped feeding him any accurate data about the battle as the shots knocked him completely off his feet, his body slamming to the floor as circuits sparked from the new damage, smoke and small flames erupting from the points of entry.

He heard Blast Off's transmission regarding his status but couldn't respond at the moment--mostly because he was in a similar situation.

The ultra-energon though. Whatever damage he had sustained, it almost made him feel like he hadn't even taken those shots. His body told him otherwise, but still, it was the feeling that mattered. This was some impressive stuff. Impressive and dangerous.

Onslaught slowly pushed himself up, looking down at the damage he had sustained. It didn't look good, but his power levels were still registering ridiculously high. What in the name of Primus had he ingested?
___

Corridors

Breakdown had more or less pulled the other Stunticon out of the hangar without subjecting him to the sad reality that the white and blue Stunticon would have quickly used him as a shield if he had to. What Dead End didn't know wouldn't kill him. Breakdown didn't even really get why he was still alive at this point, as he could probably poke at his spark casing with his finger if he wanted to, but there he was anyway. He supposed he was kinda, maybe, a little bit happy about that.

But not really.

"Yeah yeah, don't say it," Breakdown said, even though the other Stunticon already had. Saying "thanks" under any circumstances just sounded...wrong? Gross? Lots of things, Breakdown figured. Natural definitely wasn't one of 'em.

Breakdown could hear others talking in the corridor and he stopped and turned to see other Decepticons carrying something that looked an awful lot like Shockwave toward the med bay. This could get interesting. Breakdown looked back to Dead End and resumed dragging.

"Heh, your paint? Really? I swear, glitch. You gotta get your priorities in order."
___

Landgrab smirked at Crueljaw's flat acknowledgement of their situation.

"Yeh," was his only verbal response to both of Crueljaw's statements. The conversation turned to Megatron, as it often did since his death, giving Landgrab another moment to pause and reflect. Surely this wasn't how it was supposed to be. Landgrab took orders and followed them. That was really his function more than his actual one. He was valuable on the field because he did what he was told--end of story. Now though, he didn't really know who to listen to and that melee in the hangar was exactly why. Shockwave, Starscream, Razorclaw, Scorponok, Thunderwing. Those faces and a dozen others flashed in Landgrab's mind.

"Is it--is it always gonna be like this now? Megatron was just so...so, y'know. And now all these guys? They're never gonna stop are they?"

Corridors

"Oh the slag craziness this is turning out to be. I, like most Cons, am up for a good brawl but this is asking for half of us to be in the CR chamber for the next several orns. Did Megatron have to fight his way into the throne once he was out of the Pits? I hope our alliance with the Seekers will be worth this mess if we can get Shockwave back into one piece. Let us hope the Bots don't come knocking on our door because if they do, they may get a good laugh at us before they slaughter what is left of us. I guess it is a good thing a few of us decided to stay back out of the fray, isn't that right Shadowing?

What the rest may not totally realize is Battletrap just got out of the CR chamber himself. He had a few minor glitches in his combination circuits which needed a couple of tweaks. Being a Duocon has its advantages but if the two halves have trouble merging, then it becomes a problem. The idea though of him and his fellow Duocon being failed attempts at the triple changer irked him but he couldn't really blame Shockwave. The ones he blames are the triple changers. None of them seem to share a processor between them though.

Thanatos--Hangar

No one who couldn't beat Brawl into submission got to insult him without a fight. No one. Certainly not a fembot who was best known for smooching Megatron's tailpipe for every given opportunity. No new fancy shell she was hiding was going to change that fact. Brawl was seething, far beyond his baseline anger levels. This was barely contained rage, nearing the level where his general amount of lack of data processing turned into something even less than that.

"This is it slaglicker!" Brawl roared and transformed back to his bulky robot form, having decided he'd deal with Blackwind close and personal.

Slamming and rubbing his fist against the open palm of his other hand, Brawl began to lumber towards his considerably more lithe target. "Uncle Brawl is going to teach you a lesson in pain lass, one that you are not going to for- Onslaught!"

Brawl hadn't even had a chance to take more than couple of steps towards Blackwind's direction when several blast fired by Thunderwing - knocked Onslaught into the floor, easily being an event to catch Brawl's diminutive attention span. Without sparing a single cohesive thought upon the matter, the heaviest member of the Combaticon unit pulled out his electron gun and fired a series of blasts at Thunderwing's direction while moving to check on his commanding officer.

"You okay boss?!"



Quite much was happening. So much in fact that Headstrong's poor optical processing capabilities had difficulties giving him a clear picture of what exactly he was supposed to be doing now. Things had been straightforward enough until this point. Smash a Vehicon here, smash a Shockwave supporter there. But now, other players had entered the battlefield following Razorclaw announcing his raise into the leadership position.

Thunderwing had attacked Razorclaw, following the Predacon's triumph. In a cowardly but ah so Decepticon manner, striking when your opponent was not at his full strength. Opportunism had always been an integral part of the fighting pits Headstrong had fought in so long ago. It was no surprise it was celebrated among the Decepticons. The Predacons however, were a pack. You attacked one of them, you attacked all of them. And Headstrong was going to join beating the living slag out of this carapace wearing... whatever he was.

Right after Tantrum and Divebomb were out of his way and... the slag with that. If they or anyone else was going to get trampled by his charge, that was their problem - not his. And thus, Headstrong charged at Thunderwing from behind in his rhinoceros mode, barraging through a group of Vehicons between him and his target and ignoring everything else on the battlefield, including Razorclaw and some talk of honor he possibly had heard being voiced.

Corridors


"Alliance with the Seekers." Shadowing said in an almost philosophical tone. "There was a time when we were all Decepticons. The Cause would be more important than any faction. I suppose now that the terms Seekers, Combaticons, Predacons, and all the rest are more important than Decepticon."

He paused for a moment as he sent a message ahead to the Med-Bay to begin preparing for Shockwave.

"The Autobot's arrival is an unnecessary step Battletrap. Those in the Hangar are doing a stellar job destroying us on their own."

Corridors

"I always thought the cause was to conquer and destroy. Usually it is easier when we have one mech telling us where to point and shoot though. We are powerful enough to conquer anything we want if we were all pointing at the same thing. This civil war will do us no good if we just fight over an empty throne. What good is a throne if all you rule over is nothing but a scrap heap? If we wanted to do that, we should return to Cybertron. At least there we would have space to wander to if we didn't like the mech we were next to. Maybe all of this tension is because we are so cramped. I know I enjoy being separated from time to time to stretch all of my components."

Corridors

Landgrab had nodded at Shadowing's observation. The Decepticons had always had factions inside it, even from the earliest days of its founding according to various bits of information that he had gathered over the centuries. But under Megatron they were ultimately united as Decepticons no matter how much infighting might spring up from time to time. Landgrab wasn't sure if that would be true any more. Without Megatron, they could very well be participating in their own self-destruction. He couldn't help but feel like he was aboard a ship that was flying directly in to a red giant with no way to get off.

As he continued to walk with the others, Landgrab noticed the distinctive sound of metal being pulled across a metal surface over the sounds in the hangar. He turned back to see one Stunticon dragging another one.

"Company," Landgrab muttered.

Corridors

Crueljaw had been listening to the reply from Shadowing to his own personal musings then the reply to the duo con Battletrap. Crueljaw knew that it was a figure head who would be respected and feared that would earn the respect of the other decepticons and he could think of only one apart from Megatron who had a chance at that particular set of skills Scorponok.

“We need Scorponok back after the boss and Megatron he’s pretty much the only one that won’t tolerate this kind of Shenanigans. He won’t say hey guys take a seat we’ll talk about it he’ll just batter em into stupor then launch them into a nearby sun which is always fun to watch”

Crueljaw was conscious of his bosses damage as he moved shockwave toward the medical bay.

Landgrab's voice broke his thoughts as he mentioned company looking around he noted the pair of Stunticons he turned to Shadowing his optic brightening at the thought of thumping some Stunticons as he asked the question.

“So do we put the boss down and put some dents in Stunticons?”

Earth Orbit – Approaching the Thanatos

The huge blue and green planet shone radiantly, taking up the whole of the window’s view. A steady tapping was the only sound that could be heard inside the vessel. Red optics glanced upward at the target planet with a mixed look of relief and disdain. Flamewar ceased drumming her digits on the control panel of her transport shuttle. She had finally arrived. This borrowed transport shuttle had little in the way of speed. Or space. Or anything really. The femme would be more than glad to finally stretch her legs in the corridors of the Thanatos.

Of course, Flamewar could finally begin searching for the answers to the questions that had been plaguing her for the past orn. Where was Lord Megatron? She had tried to achieve contact through long distance communications, but she had not received any acknowledgement. Frustrating. To say the least. And distressing.

The femme scrutinized the blue and green planet. So this was the current frontline. It had been some time since she’d been anywhere near the frontlines of the war. She tended to work behind the scenes. She preferred it that way. But now with Megatron’s disturbing silence as to her next assignment…Flamewar would do whatever was necessary to discover his status. Anything that was necessary.

Flamewar checked the control panel of her small shuttle and flicked her digits across the keys, activating the short range communications functions. The femme opened a hailing transmission to the Thanatos with the standard encryption.

>>”Flamewar to Thanatos. Requesting permission to dock and come aboard.”<<

-----

Corridors

Weirdwolf had simply been listening and observing the conversations of his fellow Decepticons. Battletrap didn't seem to grasp that the Decepticon cause was a bit more than destruction and conquest. The Decepticons had always been fractured into factions. A strong presence was needed to unite them and keep them strong. Crueljaw's sudden mention of Scorponok was intriguing. The gargantuan warlord might need have the strength to unite the Decepticons once more.

"A strong leader Scorponok is. Perhaps strong enough to unite factions squabbling," Weirdwolf added in response to Crueljaw's commentary.

The tracker watched Shockwave's wound, being careful to keep it stable as he and the bodyguard moved toward the medical bay. They really had accumulated quite a following of Decepticons. Shockwave's followers were just following their fallen leader to whatever end may come. They were all fractured. Weirdwolf would adjust and adapt as needed.

"An option Scorponok is not however, if word does not reach him."

Landgrab drew the tracker's attention to the pair of Stunticons dragging themselves along. One of them looked in critical condition. Weirdwolf glanced at Shadowing and Crueljaw.

"Larger concerns we have than those two. Damaged and broken they are," Weirdwolf commented, "All will regret if Shockwave the medical bay does not reach in time."

Corridors

Heh, your paint? Really? I swear, glitch. You gotta get your priorities in order.

Dead End sighed inwardly and even that was painful in his current condition. Why he expected Breakdown to understand the importance of a well-rounded paintjob under any circumstances, he'd never figure out. The white freak-box was so full of paranoia there was little room for anything else. Like he was the center of the universe whom everyone was staring at. Deluded glitch. He wouldn't even make an impressive wreckage, as malformed and hunched as he was from the constant stress of hiding away from people who weren't even out for him, only in his weird imagination.

But even so, Breakdown came as close to a buddy as Dead End had ever had. Maybe he'd even polish up Breakdown's remains if he departed first. As a sort of last gesture of generosity. Maybe.

No wonder existence is so pathetic, Dead End concluded, Primus only knew how many times now.

'Are... we... there yet?' He wheezed as loud as his severely battered vocoder allowed. 'Getting... flimsy... in here...'

That Ore-13 must have been bleeding away, out of his system. Eh, all good stuff did that. Made you feel great at first, but turned out to be miserable suckage later.

Corridors

Shadowing shook his head.

"Conquer and destroy. That is what everyone seems to think these days. I was there during the beginnings of the cause, watching it develop as an outsider. The true meaning of being a Decepticon is to lift ourselves and our comrades up off the oppression we faced. To create a world were we will no longer have such shackles imposed on us. Conquest and destruction where mere tools to be used in achieving that."

He pondered the possibility of Scorponok that the others had brought up.

"Scorponok will have his say before all of this is done one way or another. At will be in the future, however. The present is our responsibility.

He turned his head back towards the Stunticons as the others mentioned them. He considered the matter for a moment.

"Even though our leaders have forgotten what it means to be a Decepticon it does not mean we have to do the same."

He turned back forward.

"Battletrap, help those two to the med bay. If they try anything unwise, however, deal with them. Landgrab, we are close to the Med Bay, Go ahead and verify if there is anything there that will impede us."

Corridors

After having acknowledged their existence, Landgrab hadn't really thought much more about the two Stunticons and what exactly they were going to do about them. Fighting, he supposed, was always one option. It was the option that most Decepticons gravitated towards as a default. He had no real problem with that, other than the walking nuclear reactor they were transporting to the med bay. They could probably work around that somehow or other. Crueljaw's thoughts seemed to be heading in that direction but Shadowing apparently had other ideas. Landgrab didn't really know Shadowing, but he did know that the mech shared some past association with Shockwave, certainly more of one than he himself did, and so he was only too willing to defer to the other mech. Not to say that Landgrab wouldn't have deferred to any of the mechs in his vicinity, as he would have without question.

"...Landgrab, we are close to the Med Bay, Go ahead and verify if there is anything there that will impede us."

Landgrab's head whipped around from looking at the two Stunticons, returning his attention to Shadowing and his latest orders.

"Uh, sure thing. On it," Landgrab said, before quickly pulling ahead of the group and heading into the med bay which wasn't all that far off from the hangar to begin with. He gave it a quick once over. Seemed pretty quiet. He then headed back out into the corridors to meet the others.

"Looks clear."
___

Breakdown had noticed that some of the mechs in the group ahead of him were occasionally glancing back in their direction. Why were they doing that?

He didn't like it.

If there were more Stunticons around, and definitely if Motormaster had been, Breakdown might have been a little more combative about the innate paranoia he felt by being literally watched. Imagining it was bad enough.

"Yeah, yeah. Geez, what's the rush? You'd think one of those Autofemmes was waiting in there for you," Breakdown mumbled as he picked up his pace.

Following the others into the med bay, Breakdown dragged Dead End to the furthest berth he could find, lifted and dumped that shoddy mech on top of it and stood back and admired his handiwork, as if he had suddenly finished constructing a working replica of the Matrix. His smile quickly faded as he didn't really know what to do next. Usually when he was in a room like this, he was on one of the slabs himself along with the rest of the Stunticons.

"So...yeah. I'm....um...not really sure what to hook you in to."

Corridors

Battletrap thought about what Shadowing mention about the true purpose of the Decepticons. The more he thought about it, more he wondered if still was true. What oppression are they fighting against now? It was a bit much for him to think about and his cranial unit was getting slightly over heated. He then heard the order to help out the Stunticons. As he went towards them, it seemed the white mech was able to do things on his own. Battletrap got over to the med table and helped get the legs and arms on the table along with any hanging wires.

"I'm clueless what to do with injuries, myself, Stunticon. My area of expertise is bashing enemies between my dual alt modes. Hopefully a medical droid will be here shortly to at least stabilize your fellow Stunticon and Shockwave. This whole leadership mess is becoming a huge ugly mess for all of us. Maybe we'll be lucky and have everything decided in the next few cycles but at what cost."