The Energon Pub

Hangar

With no challengers stepping up to face Razorclaw, Divebomb could finally relax a modicum or two. At least, that was what he thought until news of the Autobot communication arrived. However, decisions in such matters did not concern him in the slightest. They concerned Razorclaw. And he was handling things quite well from what the eagle Predacon could tell. All that was left for him to do was follow orders.

The usually cheerful predacon flitted over to his gravely injured comrade, Headstrong. "You look like slag," Divebomb stated simply, "I'm going to air lift you outta here now. Don't squirm or I will drop you like a rock."

With that, Divebomb perched on his comrade, shifting about a bit while trying to find the best place for his talons to grip. Having found a suitable grip on his fellow Predacon, Divebomb took wing to the skies once more, albeit much more laboriously this time.

"Augh..." Divebomb groaned as he flapped his wings arduously, "You're kinda heavy, you know. You should lay off the ultra energon snacks." Divebomb quit trying to offer witty commentary as he focused on flying his friend through the hallways toward the medical bay.

-----

"As you say, much work there is to be done," Weirdwolf said in agreement with Skullcruncher. Remaining in his lupine alternate mode, the tracker hefted a few stasis locked Decepticons across his back. In robot mode, he could carry perhaps one or two, but this way, the weight of the load would be fully supported and he would be able to carry more.

Of course, then came the awkward task of piling the bodies up neatly so as to prevent them from sliding off of his back when he moved. While the first few were of little consequence, it became increasingly difficult to chuck the non-functioning Decepticons onto his back. Weirdwolf cast his gaze at his companion who lifted many effortlessly.

"Carry two more I can, but lack the means I do to lift them," Weirdwolf said, "Place two more onto my back will you?"

Thanatos - Bridge

Shadowing shook his head. "So this is what Razorclaw's Decepticons will be. What a pathetic mockery. " he thought and turned to leave the Bridge without a word. He decided that this was no longer his responsibility. Let the rabble figure things out among themselves.

He would return to his watch over Shockwave while he thought things through. At least there he be away from all of this.

Thanatos - Med bay

Crueljaw watched as the medical droids announced that Shockwave wasn’t going to blow them the smithereens. Crueljaw watched Landgrab lumber along with the medical droids as they moved the Cyclopean decepticon into the CR chambers.

"Hey! Reactor secure?! What does that mean? Is he fixed?"

Crueljaw’s optics narrowed at the comment from Landgrab, if it wasn’t a medical bay and maybe if the infighting was ongoing Crueljaw would of taken the opportunity to throttle the spark out of the lumbering lug.

Opening a private comm channel to Landgrab he replied

“It means he’s not going to explode and vaporise a good portion of the ship”

With Shockwave well on the way to recovery Crueljaw wondered what he could do he’d seen new comers wander through and head off probably to the hangar. Turning the burly con moved out to see what was occurring hopefully he’d get an assignment, maybe an opportunity to smash autobot heads. The doors to the medical bay slid open silently to allow the decepticon to leave.

Med Bay

Landgrab stopped for a moment to see who had answered his question before quickly, thankfully, realizing that the response was coming through his internal comm system.

That was Crueljaw. Wasn't he...?

Landgrab looked up, then around, then found the mech who had commed him in an effort--so it seemed--to help him not look like quite so much of a fool. Or maybe just to give Crueljaw an excuse to gut him later. He could never be sure, ever since that mission back on Earth.

>>"Ohhh...right. Thanks. Makes sense,"<< Landgrab commed back, giving a thankful nod in the other mech's direction before seeing that he was already headed out of the med bay altogether.

Hangar

"Flamewar, I will accompany no one. I am in charge now and it would be a good idea for you to grow accustomed to that reality and adjust your tone accordingly. The Autobots will be dealt with in short order. I hope I have made myself clear, my dear?"

Flamewar had gone numb at those words. No feeling from within stirred. All fell dead and flat. Razorclaw gave further orders - none directed at herself - and exited the Hangar without addressing the black operative again. Those Decepticons gathered about the hangar began to collect the wounded and deliver them to the medical bay.

For the first time, Flamewar stood on unstable ground. There was a new leader. Lord Megatron had fallen in battle. He was gone. And - unless she proved to be an asset to this new regime - Flamewar could find herself on the outside. The sheer thought of it...was staggering. All her years of loyal service to Lord Megatron, for what? To be shoved to the side while the cause rested in the hands of someone untested in such a position? No. Never.

Flamewar straightened. Her loyalty was to the Decepticon cause and Lord Megatron. Lord Megatron, though he may have seemed it, was not eternal. But the cause could be so long as there were those willing to fight for it. No being could replace Lord Megatron as leader of the Decepticons. However...Razorclaw may prove to be skilled enough to carry the banner in his absence.

Lord Megatron would return to them eventually. He had done it in the past. He could do it again. Flamewar resolved not to let him come home to a wrecked house. Coming back to herself, she noted that the wounded were beginning to be moved en masse. Good. With the Autobots being handled by others, she could move about and take care of other matters. Those other matter did, however, happen to involve the medical bay. She needed to speak with Shockwave once he became operational. Another matter did concern her however...

As she had awaited Razorclaw's reply to her, that lout Misfire had crackled weakly over the ship intercom system. Apparently no one had taken notice, not that Flamewar could blame them. The black and crimson femme scooped up an incapacitated Decepticon, tossing him roughly over her shoulder before turning to face her old protege.

"Warwolf," Flamewar said firmly, "Find Misfire and have him bring aboard the supplies. Oversee him to make sure he does nothing idiotic and then bring him to me in the medical bay."

With that, Flamewar strode out of the hangar, stepping over the bodies of the fallen that were in her path. She picked up another of the injured, slinging him over her other shoulder as well as she made her way into the corridors with an unreadable expression on her face. As much as she would like to, there was no time to mourn the loss of Lord Megatron and no point. He would return as he always did. Her time and efforts were better spent furthering the cause. Yes. Of course he would. He had to.

No time to mourn...No time...

Corridors/Medical Bay

As the femme approached the medical bay, Flamewar became acutely aware of another presence moving through the corridors. On her guard, she continued to walk toward the medical bay with her two injured Decepticons in tow. As she rounded the corner, she came to see who this other Decepticon was. Shadowing. Shockwave's assistant returning to the medical bay likely to check on his master's health.

"Greetings Shadowing," Flamewar said.

Hangar

And that was it. Razorclaw succeeded. The fate of the mighty Decepticon Empire now rested on the shoulders of a …of a beast!

Kneeling beside the body of the scientist Blackwind ran the back of her hand lightly down his cheek. There was no movement, of course, but the act was comforting. “You’ll show them. You’ll show them all that only you can finish what Lord Megatron began,” she whispered.

Starscream’s attention flitted from the various mechs still scattered throughout the hangar. Razorclaw and his cronies had padded off to the bridge leaving the dregs and brainless to mill about. Speaking of dregs…

The Air Commander turned his attention back to the kneeling Blackwind. A deep frown formed on his face while he watched. Disgusting.

“Ugh.” Starscream turned to look at several Vehicons with seemingly nothing of importance to do. “You!” He pointed to one amongst the group who instantly pointed at himself. “Yes you!” Starscream yelled through clenched jaws. “Come here and bring those idiots with you!” He let out a heavy sigh while pinching the bridge of his nasal ridge.

The drones gathered in a straight line before the Seeker Commander. A crisp salute was given as they waited for their orders. “Take these two wounded Decepticons to the med bay and shove them in a CR Chamber.” Startscream looked down as he spoke a smile forming on his face.

Blackwind tore her optics from Thunderwing when she heard the orders Starscream had given. She gave the deceitful cretin a confused look. “Wounded? I’m not wounded.”

The smile on Starscream’s face grew even wider as he raised his Null Ray and fired at the femme. Blackwind had no time to react. Her unconscious body dropped to the floor. “You are now.”

The silver and red Seeker chuckled lightly as her body hit the floor face first. After a moment he moved in close and jostled her with his foot. When he was sure she was of no danger he stepped back and smiled. “Take them both to the med bay and let them stew in the CR Chambers.” He looked to the drones before gesturing to the hangar’s exit. “I have a meeting to arrange.” Starscream then turned on his heel and left.

Once the Air Commander was far enough away the Vehicons hefted both Thunderwing and Blackwind and carried them both off to the med bay per their orders.

Corridors/Medical Bay


Shadowing walked down the corridors heavy in thought. Things were going worse than he had anticipated and he did not believe they would get any better. Whatever Ultra Magnus wanted would bring a great challenge in leadership to Razorclaw and he had seen nothing that would show him he would be successful.

He heard a familiar voice as he walked.

"Greetings Flamewar." He said as he continued to walk. "How fare the madness in the Hangar?"

Bridge

Onslaught stiffened as Ultra Magnus confirmed the Combaticon's suspicions. Under the circumstances he had not exactly been expecting a positive report, but if they were dealing with the Fallen the situation was bad enough on its own. It didn't need help from any surrounding circumstances.

He of course needed no reminder that he too had been in the presence of this legendary Cybertronian. The reality of their grave situation was not lost on him. Even dealing with the idea of one of the Thirteen was a concept so foreign to the Combaticon that he could scarcely begin strategizing. How did one plan to counter a foe like this? How would one plan a strike against Unicron or Primus or any other such myths. These were areas that were outside of Onslaught's area of specialty. But he would adapt, as he always did. They had not come this far only to be driven to extinction now.

Thus far, Magnus had not presented him with anything of interest. But it seemed the point of this transmission was to serve as a precursor for a face to face meeting between the new Autobot and Decepticon leadership.

That, too, was expected.

Onslaught considered the strategic prerequisites that would have to be in place before any such congress occurred.

>>"There exists the possibility that such a meeting could be arranged. Before I relay any of this to Razorclaw, I would hope that you have a secure--and neutral--location in mind. Moreover, who would we speak with from your side? If you think for a klik that Razorclaw and I would come only to be greeted by a contingent of Wreckers, you are sorely mistaken."<<

Corridors/Medical Bay

"Greetings Flamewar." He said as he continued to walk. "How fare the madness in the Hangar?"

"It is resolved for the moment," Flamewar said to Shadowing, shifting the weight of one of the mechs hanging over her shoulder as she walked. "And for that, at least, I am grateful. Razorclaw will deal with the Autobots in his own time. Lord Razorclaw that is now, I suppose. Having received the news of our masters' demise upon arriving, it has been...difficult to retain a collected demeanor."

The jet and crimson femme cast her optics over to the cycloptic scientist's assistant. "You are one better acquainted with those assigned to this planet than I. Perhaps you could offer me some insight and shine some light upon our new lord's qualifications...or lack thereof."

The black operative mulled over the collection of command level Decepticons gathered aboard the ship. Starscream. Soundwave. Shockwave. Thunderwing. Razorclaw. Motormaster. Onslaught. With Razorclaw now the supreme commander of the Decepticon forces, there would still be many seeking to undermine him. However, from what she gathered from her brief sojourn into the hangar, Onslaught and Motormaster were two of the factions loyal to Razorclaw. A good deal of support primarily physical but also intellectual.

Shockwave had lost to Razorclaw. Following the logical mech's thinking, he would not attempt for the throne again. To do the same thing over and over again and expect different results...well, that would be the definition of insanity. No. Shockwave would employ a different tact now. What that may be was left for logic to deduce. Starscream, on the other hand, was much different. Scheming opportunist vermin. His attempts to usurp Lord Megatron repeatedly might've been some form of insanity, but Razorclaw was someone very different from Lord Megatron. She would have to keep a very close optic on him.

As for the proud warlord and scientist Thunderwing, Flamewar could not say. He had fallen to Razorclaw, yes, but yielding to him and serving him was another matter altogether. And finally, there remained Soundwave. The truest of loyalists beside herself to Lord Megatron. However, his place, much like her own, was better suited to the shadows rather than leading the charge.

As she awaited Shadowing to answer her query, she noted a rather large mechanoid exiting the medical bay. She recognized him as one of the many gathered about Shockwave's examination table. One of Shockwave's followers. "Greetings," she said to Crueljaw, "What is the status of Shockwave?"

Corridors/Medical Bay

Shadowing carefully weighed the question he had been given.

"Razorclaw is an experienced commander and certainly has the power and skill to, theoretically, be a good leader. However, promise alone does not guarantee success. I suppose we shall see what time reveals."

As they walked into the Medical Bay Shadowing opened an extreme short range communication signal to Flamewar even as he spoke outwardly. Soundwave might listen in but there was little he could do to avoid that nor did he particularly care at this point.

"This is chaos. Everyone seems to be doing what they want and no one seems to care. If Megatron had still been among the functioning there would have been more than a few head on spikes by now. Razorclaw did not claim leadership by his own power. He did so with the support of the likes of Onslaught and Motormaster. Sooner or later they will ask themselves if they could do better. If they do not Starscream will do so for sure. What I am seeing on board this ship only seems to suggest that will come sooner rather than later."

He turned to look at Shockwave as he awaited Crueljaw's answer to Flamewar's question.

"Now the Autobots want to talk. Conversations with the enemy always are a challenge to authority."

Outside medical bay
Exiting the medical bay Crueljaw was so lost in thoughts of throttling Landgrab with his own Energon refining tubing that he almost missed Flamewar’s question. His head jerked up suddenly like a mech brought out of a daydream optics flaring a slight growl of frustration escape his vocal processor. They dimmed again when he noted Shadowing and the unknown femme, he’d noted earlier he nodded at Shadowing before turning to the unknown femme.

“Shockwave’s most pressing injury has been repaired” he gave a glance to Shadowing who he hoped would understand the vague description, before he continued “he was transferred to the Cr chamber before I left the medical bay he shall be fine” Crueljaw noted the mechs hanging over Flamewar’s shoulder. “I can take them mechs off your shoulders I imagine you have better things to be doing then carrying dead weight around” Crueljaw had assessed that the new comer was more command material than a triage nurse.

Outside Medical Bay

The Allspark. That was where he was. After all how could he be moving without using his legs? Well, he could be in his alt mode, but it certainly didn’t feel that way. No, he was gone.

But wait.

Wasn’t there supposed to be some sort of light, or a tunnel, or a guide? Why was it so dark? His head was starting to hurt. Primus, how is that possible?

He wasn’t dead. Great.

“Oh…” Hindsight groaned lowly. Several moments went by before he could finally feel his entire body, and yes, he was moving but his legs were still. How….

Hindsight slowly onlined his optics. Two pin-points of red light began to grow as he tried to focus on his surroundings. Okay, so I’m moving. I’m moving and I’m looking at the ground. “Wha…where am I?” His voice was low and nearly filled with static. He cringed at the sound.

It was strange. He was bouncing slightly and there was something holding him. He lifted his head a bit and noticed he was slung over someone’s shoulder. Black and red. That didn't make things any easier. Weren't just about every Decepticon either black or red, or some combination of the two? Okay, now this was just weird. “Hello? Where’re you taking me? What’s going on? What happened?” Damn, I hope I don’t get slagged for asking too many questions. Such a lame way to go.

Med Bay

He must’ve slipped offline. Slag. Poor thing couldn’t take it. Orbitoclast smiled down at Dead End’s still form. At least he was alive. The unstable surgeon placed her tool down on the tray near the slab. A small caring smile formed on her face as she reached down and ran the back of her hand down the side of the Stunticon’s face. “Oh, don’t you worry, love, once you wake up I’ll come back. I do want to spend as much time with you as I can,” she whispered.

A disappointed look replaced her smile as her hand slipped from the dermal-plating of his face. With a dejected sigh, Orbitoclast tore her gaze from her current obsession to look over her shoulder at the other Stunticon in her med bay. “Yes. I nearly forgot,” she mumbled to herself. Breakdown still had to be looked at….from the inside.

Orbitoclast giggled.

And when Breakdown moved to stand behind her in order to direct the influx on new patients, the surgeon’s spark almost melted. “Oh, so astute!”

A smile, broad and bright, formed as she whipped around and pressed close into Breakdown’s back. Her hands ran gently up to his shoulders. Leaning in she spoke directly into his audio, “You deserve everything I’m going to do to you. I can’t wait to get to work.”

Orbitoclast giggled.

Hangar

Warwolf gave a understanding nod to his mentor as she took her departure from the hangar bay. He glanced up towards the observation deck where Misfire was broadcasting his request to bring in supplies. Based on how the interceptor spoke, Warwolf already concluded that this would be a simple task, assuming he came quietly. The lupine mech shifted into his monstrous three-head wolf mode and rushed off towards the staircase up leading up to the observation deck.

Hangar - Observation deck

When he reached the top of the railing, he crept slowly towards the doorway. He slowing approached the doors of the observation deck and shifted back into his Robot form. He readied his howler cannon and held it up close to him. Felt just like one of his old starship raids he used to run during his time as a pirate. He tapped the door controls with his pointed actuators. As the doors slowly opened, he brought his pistol up and aimed for Misfire.

"Ah ah ah." The interrogator began as he crept slowly into the observation deck, keeping his weapon pointed up at Misfire's processor. "Now, let's not do anything rash shall we?" He sheathed his sword but kept his free hand over his secret knife compartments, just incase the interceptor decided to try anything tricky on him. "Now, you are gonna go and retrieve that shipment of cargo that's sitting outside the airlock there and bring it in the hangar here. There's no need to go asking every functional con on this ship whether it's okay to bring aboard tools and supplies to assist our efforts."

Warwolf began to circle Misfire, keeping an optic on his movements without faltering his fixed aim on the interceptor. "Once you bring in those goods, then you and I are gonna take a little trip to the med bay. Cooperate, and hopefully the trip there won't be because I blasted your processor of your neck servos."

He paused briefly to give Misfire some time to take in his instructions.

"Do we understand?"

Bridge

Blitzwing had taken a seat in on of the operator's chairs as more and more Decepticons began to return to their posts. He noticed Razorclaw most particularly, judging by how he walked in and how he was surrounded by his Predacons, it was safe to assume who the new Supreme Commander was.

"Well I got a good idea who won." The commando huffed as he crossed his arms in his seat. Of all the cons to take command, it had to have been him. It really made Blitzwing wonder how bad Shockwave was taken down, he really believed Shockwave would have obliterated anyone who opposed him. Well, anything was better than Ramjet's attempt to lead.

Blitzwing's expession disappeared from his faceplating as he recalled the real reason he was here. He suddenly remembered the mission he was suppose to be doing down on Earth. Oh scrap... Who knows what Astrotrain and Octane doing without his "distraction." He needed to radio them, see if he still had time to get back down and finish his task.

>>"Blitzwing, to Astrotrain and Octane. What's the current progress of our mission?. I couldn't get anyone to help us out and I'm making my way back to you guys now. Blitzwing out."<<

He lied about asking for help, mostly because he lost track of his true task as well as knowing that most Cons wouldn't even want to waste the energy to play it out. Whatever, doesn't matter now, what's done is done. He rose from his seat and began walking out back towards the Bounce Chamber.

Hangar- Observation Deck



Misfire suppressed a gulp as he slowly lifted from his seated position, hands in the air. "Yes, I understand fine... I'm just trying to help, after all!"

Warwolf continued pointing the gun. Misfire started chattering faster. "I'm just trying to show my new leader that I'm ready to serve the Decepticon cause!"

Still nothing. Misfire slowly walked, Warwolf changing position again, retaining distance and favorable ground. Enough distance Warwolf wouldn't be struck by debris or shrapnel if he fired. Undoubtedly some remnant of whatever discipline Flamewar had installed in her prize student.

Misfire tried to bond on that. "So, Flamewar really is setting up her own faction, huh? Well, she can count on my loyalty! I was always a supporter of hers'!"

The Vehicon manning the hangar bay terminal gave him a look. Misfire frantically waved his arm in front of his mouth, begging him not to comment.

Warwolf irritably waved his pistol to the stairwell and Misfire complied, practically tripping over himself in a mad dash to go down the stairs, but Warwolf was quickly on his heels.

Keep talking. Show him you know what you're doing. You have to demonstrate value now, and get Flamewar's buddy here on your side.

Misfire's freighter slid into the hangar, aligning with the gravity wells of a single parking lane; probably the only one without a dead Vehicon or still deactivated Decepticon sprawled on the floor.

"Plenty of munitions shipped from home," Misfire said as he walked up to the side of his crate, pulling out his datapad and instructions.

"Unmanned, of course." Misfire added, trying to put Warwolf at ease. "Just weapons and tech, that's all! Subsonic repeaters, photon burst rifles, scrapmakers... and a couple bad network terminuses, if I remember correctly."

He frantically entered the code. "Unlock, you slaggin..."

-

Within, at one of the 'bad' network terminuses, lying amidst the pile of junk, sat a Seeker attached to his games, head encased in a VR interface.

"Out your actuator, newbie!"

He was just getting into the swing of things, when he heard a groaning sound behind him, as the rusted metal of the freighter door slid open, breaking his immersion from his game...

... and suddenly realizing he was lying in a pile of scrap metal, not his lab back on Cybertron. Which begged the question:

"Where am I?"

-

"Uh-"

Misfire stammered, watching carefully for Warwolf's trigger finger to move as the surprise appearance of another Decepticon -the Seeker engineer Bitstream- erased what little credibility he'd established in one fell swoop.

I'm going to die. By the divine weld, help me!

"Good question," Misfire squeaked out, waiting and hoping to every last member of the Guiding Hand Warwolf wasn't about to shoot him.

Med Bay

So Razorclaw had won the leadership struggle, and apparently had considerable support in the forms of Motormaster and the Combaticons serving to reinforce his new lofty position. Flywheels could live with that. As long as Starscream wasn't leader – though, according to this random Decepticon who had popped into the med bay, the Seeker had yet to decide whether or not to challenge Razorclaw – the situation couldn't be that bad.

Flywheels shrugged as Battletrap asked him if they could trust Razorclaw. “I don't know. Maybe?” He glanced at Shockwave. “Tantrum and Rampage seem a little crazy, but Razorclaw seems like he has a level cranial unit on his shoulders. But to lead the 'Cons is a big deal. And yeah, I prefer Shockwave, too, but what can we do?”

As Flywheels pondered over Razorclaw's potential, he looked at the random Decepticon. The fellow had a few marks on him: some scorched plates here, a deep gash there, and multiple dents covering his chassis here and there. Battle damage. Probably from the leadership fight.

Yes. The leadership struggle. Any astrosecond now, Decepticons would be pouring into the med bay, seeking out CR chambers and automated drones to tend to the various injuries they had suffered during the fight.

“REACTOR SECURED. TRANSFERRING TO CRYOGENIC REGENERATION CHAMBER ALPHA-FOUR.”

“Huh?” Flywheels turned to see the automated drones transport Shockwave from the berth to a CR chamber.

Flywheels wondered what, precisely, they were doing, but Shockwave couldn't have been in any danger because nobody reacted to the drones and Shockwave with, well, any kind of response. One Decepticon, in fact – Crueljaw was his name – just walked on out of the med bay, as if boredom had set in and the only way of alleviating it was to go for a wander.

Boredom had Flywheels in its grip, too, but orders were orders; he couldn't leave Shockwave, even if his recovery was appearing favourable. He and Battletrap had to stay.

Tedious as it was guarding Shockwave, at least Battletrap was with him. It would have been a million times more dreary if he weren't here.

Just then, the med bay's doors split open to admit one, two, three – a good number of injured Decepticons, all undoubtedly from the leadership fight. Flywheels whistled, impressed by the amount and by their wounds. A serious battle had taken place.

“Look at 'em, Battletrap,” he said. “They're everywhere. We should stand near Shockwave's chamber, don't you think? You know, just in case anyone here gets any bright ideas.”

Transmission from Astrotrain to Blitzwing

>>"Progress? What progress? I'm thinking of ditching Ramjet's little insane project if he and his little pet doesn't start getting on the ball. You might be wasting your time. What's going on up there? Do we have a new leader yet?"<<
___

Med Bay

Breakdown watched with wary, paranoid optics as one of the Vehicons seemed to stare him down for a moment before deciding to drag the injured Decepticon he was carrying on to a berth further away from Dead End and Orbitoclast's current position.

He then felt a shiver of delight surge through his entire frame as he turned to face the familiar voice that had deigned once again to speak to him.

“You deserve everything I’m going to do to you. I can’t wait to get to work."

"I do deserve it. I do. I do," Breakdown said, that creepy, happy smile forming on his metallic face again.

And she giggled. Hehe. It sounded like the beautiful melodies of shrike bats in estrus. Or so he imagined.

"Ready when you are."
___

Landgrab could clearly see that he was not the only one who had taken a keen interest in keeping a close optic on Shockwave. Several seemed to be keeping a passing glance on him--or the CR chamber that he now occupied.

Battletrap and Flywheels were two such mechs. Landgrab wasn't overly familiar with them, but enough to know that they were once direct products of Shockwave's experimentational procedures. It only made sense that they would have some sort of vested interest in his returning to full capacity.

"Yeah, we don't need some sort of round two breaking out in here. Then nobody gets fixed."

Hangar - Observation Deck

Excellent, the interceptor didn't disobey the interrogator's orders. He had a bit of a mouth to him though... Oh well, it wasn't warwolf's job to change him.

"Own faction? Please, Flamewar just got here! Besides, she's a strong believer in the Decepticon cause. She wouldn't try and undermine our new Commander." Warwolf beckoned to Misfire. "Come on now, trying to impress will not get you anywhere, it just makes you look like a suck up. Now, let's get down to the freighter."

Warwolf followed Misfire out onto the scaffolding of the observation deck. He allowed the interceptor to go off ahead, but kept a sharp eye on him, just incase he wanted to give him the slip.

Hangar

Warwolf stood back and watched Misfire try and open the doors to the cargo ship that was just brought aboard. Primus this was painful to watch, and he's seen two vehicons try and talk each other to death to see if they could be the next Tarn.

"We aren't on any sort of time frame here Misfire, but you sure are taking your sweet-aft time trying to open that thin-" he was cut off as the interceptor finally managed to remotely open the doors. "Primus! Took you long enough!"

Warwolf stepped inside the freighter while Misfire began running over the many different kinds of weaponry inside. The interrogator ran the pointed actuators of his free hand over the metallic crates the weapons were stored in.

"Ahh, brings back memories." Warwolf muttered as recalled his days as one of Gangplank's pirates. It was one of the only fond memories he had with his former captain. He gazed back up just as Misfire discovered a seeker who seemed to have stumbled aboard the cargo craft. Warwolf didn't recognize the seeker, but his Decepticon faction shined bright across his chassis. Good, at least he's one of us.

"Welcome to the Decepticon battlecruiser the Thanatos." Warwolf started as he greeted the new face, "c'mon, help Misfire and I get some of these crates off the ship."

Thanatos--Hangar

"Ghhn. Do you really have to do everything the difficult way?" Skullcruncher sighed in response to Weirdwolf's plea and dropped the wounded Decepticons he had lifted earlier on his lupine friend's back.

"Besides, shouldn't we do this the other way around? My alt. mode is not only bigger but stronger and has lower center of gravity." He hulking warrior added, tossing two more bodies on Weirdwolf's back, not really giving any thought on how much the tracker could actually carry.

"For once it would be better suited to the task than yours." Skullcruncher said and knelt down to lift another wounded Decepticon. "You think Razorclaw would miss a Vehicon or two? I mean... some of those, they are ready for recycling anyways, aren't they?"


Thanatos--Med Bay

"Out of the way runts! Wounded officer on board!" Brawl barked as he entered the medical bay, practically steamrolling through the line of smaller Decepticons waiting for their turn. Behind the burly Combaticon warrior followed Motormaster, the hulking and obviously badly wounded leader of the Stunticons.

The King of Roads carried himself on his own power. Radiating the aura of supreme confidence in himself the way he always did. His movement however, was slow. Every step he took appeared to be dragging and heavy. He had let Brawl practically tow him to the doors of the med bay, saving his remaining strength for the final show in front of the other wounded Decepticons. The damage visible on his massive frame was enough to make a number of other Decepticons cringe and whisper to each in obvious disbelief. It suited Motormaster just fine. It served strengthening his reputation of invincibility within the ranks.

The pain itself was nothing to him. Only yet another obstacle to be conquered. He would keep going until his body was going to give up on him and the some more just to spit fate in the eye. The fact that he had not been powerful enough to walk out of his last battle unscathed was completely another issue. Losing was not the issue. He had been knocked out before. A number of times. He could respect those with the power to bring him down. But being almost killed by the point blank blast from Shockwave's arm cannon? Over the vorns Motormaster had become a victim of his own hype. He was hurt so rarely that he truly began to believe in himself being invulnerable - practically having forgot the last time he had truly been hurt. Today he had been given a reminder that he wasn't as invincible as he had come to think he was. He had been forced to face the reality that he needed repairs like any common loser. It made him angry. Angry enough to murder anyone who'd look him the wrong way while he had to suffer through this ignominy.

Fortunately enough Brawl was there to boss the others around so that Motormaster himself did not have to ask for medical attention. The clanking terror had cleared one of the larger repair tables from its previous occupant whom he had deemed to be fit enough to wait, allowing Motormaster to lie down to conserve energy. Not much later Motormaster could hear Brawl getting into the face of someone and what sounded like Breakdown letting out a yelp before being floored by Brawl's fist. And when the Combaticon returned, he wasn't alone. Brawl was dragging one of the surgeon femmes that had made the med bay of Thanatos their home behind him.

"Here doc, patch him up!" Brawl barked, shoving the femme towards Motormaster. She was an odd looking one for a surgeon but Motormaster couldn't recognize the femme. Not that he cared. Many Decepticon surgeons were deranged in a way or another. The only thing this one needed to realize that this was one of those moments there was no place for games. She'd do her job and she'd do it well. Or she'd die. By his hand or Brawl's. And to be frank, at this point even that didn't matter much to Motormaster.

Untraceable Communique Frequency: Ark 22 to Decepticon Warship Thanatos

"Onslaught, such a tactic at this time would be highly inappropriate. In fact it would be utterly counter productive to the true objective of any meeting for cooperation. The site I have selected for this meeting is at present being secured and isolated from native sensors or investigators... or other such curious biologics."

Med Bay

More and more Decepticons flooded into the med bay, claiming berths, CR chambers and the attention of the automated drones. Space was rapidly becoming an issue, with so many wounded congesting what remained of it, but little could be done about that. These Decepticons required repairs, and this happened to be the med bay. No further explanation was necessary.

After getting shouldered for the fifteenth time by yet another tactless participant from the leadership struggle – who barely even glanced at Flywheels as he bumped into him – the Duocon had come to accept that standing sentinel over Shockwave's CR chamber was going to be... a pain in the posterior. It might have made things interesting, this spurt of activity, and it might have expelled his boredom, but this wasn't his idea of fun.

"Yeah, we don't need some sort of round two breaking out in here. Then nobody gets fixed."

“Huh?”

Once again, someone had managed to sneak up on Flywheels without him realising it. Good thing he'd never had the aspiration to be a scout, because the result would have been the opposite of spectacular.

“Yeah! Yeah, you're right,” he said to the Decepticon. “Can't have that.”

Flywheels, curse his memory banks, could not recall who this Decepticon was. He'd seen him around, and on previous missions, but his name escaped the Duocon. Something-grab, he was thinking.

“Don't know if I ever caught your name, friend.” Flywheels smiled, hoping it looked authentic rather than a mocking display to this fellow. “Could you run it by me again?”

Cybertron

Several Stellar Cycles Earlier

Cybertron was a dead world. Despite pockets of resistance and a few teams of scientists and engineers extracting every remaining useable scrap and circuit board, there wasn't much to do. For an information engineer separated from the Seekers -and quite grateful to be so- it was an ample opportunity to indulge in his favorite off duty activities. Without enough energon to power any facilities, the Decepticons had resorted to cruder forms of energy generation, using solar panels and nuclear reactors to charge a select few buildings, including one long abandoned.

One Bitstream called home. He slipped inside a network terminus and let the image of his broken, depleted planet fade away. There were other worlds he could conquer and rule instead, all subject to his own personal whims. With a small ration of an artificial energon substitute and a minimum of power expenditure while his mind was jacked into his own private operating system, he could just play, and put the war out of his mind.

Somewhere in the back of his cerebral cortex he wondered if he wanted to waste away in the game world, letting his body rot away and eventually power down like so many syphonists and empties before him. Eventually that thought was subsumed by the basest of thrills, as he conquered one virtual reality after another. He eventually shut down any internal warnings and let his mind integrate further into the OS, until the game world was indistinguishable from the dead Cybertron he'd left behind. He ruled over the Decepticon insurgency, supplanting Megatron and fighting the tyranny of Sentinel Prime, the Cybertronian population rallying around him and cheering him on. He effortlessly manipulated the remnants of the Senate into becoming their Consul, and ruled over a new golden age of peace and prosperity, the citizens grateful for his firm tyranny over them.

-

One Deca-Cycle Ago

Misfire followed his guide to the depot, one of the few buildings still powered. He looked over the selections of equipment, including a fully functional network terminus!

"My lucky day, I guess," Misfire observed. "Help me roll this thing into the hover hauler."

Within, a withered Bitstream watched as his Cybertron entered a dark age, the hot spots all burnt out, the energon running low, a new uprising waiting to begin, spark eaters mutating into vicious monsters taking away protoforms at night...

...a course he had to correct, as Bitstream Prime, ruler of the Cybertronian race.


-

Hangar

Now

Misfire breathed a sigh of relief and thanked Primus Warwolf wasn't about to shoot him for his mistake.

"Hey, welcome aboard!" Misfire greeted, looking over the frayed, haggard Seeker. "You look like you've been through the ringer, buddy. Look like you could log some CR time..."

Bitstream lifted himself and examined Misfire sternly. "I appreciate your concern, citizen, but I'm afraid there's no time. I need to speak to the Senate about funding for new energon alternative research."

"Oh, okay, you need to... wait, what?" Misfire asked. "Senate? They've been dead and gone nearly four million years now!"

Bitstream gave him a curious look. "Ah, I see you've been afflicted. Get yourself to Rodion. I just ordered a new med center be added there to assist the labor class."

"Rodion?" Misfire repeated. "This isn't Cybertron! This is the Thanatos! We're in orbit around Earth!"

Bitstream placed a hand on Misfire's shoulder in an apparent attempt to comfort him. "It sounds like you need a brain module repair. Tell them the Prime sent you and I'm sure you'll receive the care you need."

Misfire was gawking. "Prime?"

"Bitstream Prime," Bitstream answered. "I am Head of State in the polis of Iacon, and Supreme Commander of the Cybertronian Imperial Fleet. Now if you'll excuse me, citizen, I must find a way off this ship and speak with the Senate."

Bitstream straighted his posture and headed away in a dignified fashion. He waited for the icon to appear, indicating he'd raised the spirits of the populace. Nothing appeared on his HUD. Must've been some kind of bug, or maybe that particular citizen's AI was wired differently...

"I think he's gone binary." Misfire noted to Warwolf as he watched Bitstream stride confidently away.

Medical Bay

"Razorclaw is an experienced commander and certainly has the power and skill to, theoretically, be a good leader. However, promise alone does not guarantee success. I suppose we shall see what time reveals."

Flamewar considered the response. A safe one. Very political. Interesting. She cast her gaze over to Crueljaw who offered a status report on Shockwave. Good, good. Shockwave would soon be back on his feet once more then. She moved over to Crueljaw as he offered to lighten her load and shouldered on of her injured off onto him. The other slung over her shoulder began to moan barely audible as he was jostled a bit as she shrugged the other nonfunctional genericon onto Crueljaw.

As Flamewar and Shadowing proceeded into the med bay, Shadowing opened an extremely short range communication channel with her to state his concerns. The mention of Lord Megatron made her spark go cold for a moment. She took the time to carefully consider her response to the distraught decepticon even as she turned her head slightly to look back at the Decepticon slung over her shoulder.

"You're in the medical bay," Flamewar said by way of answer. She walked over to a free examination table and slid the injured mech off of her shoulder and onto the table even as the medical drones began to gather. The black operative examined the extent of the mech's injuries. Perhaps this could work to her advantage...Flamewar took a laser scapel from a tray installed into the table and leaned over the injured mech as she began to take his pain receptors offline. She cast her red optics at him.

"You were injured in the skirmish in the hangar. You are lucky to have survived with as few injuries as you did. What is your name?" she asked softly.

Without looking at Shadowing, she sent him a reply.

"If Lord Megatron were among the functioning, this issue would have never had occurred at all. But he is not. So we must adapt. If what you say of Razorclaw is true, then the likes of Onslaught and Motormaster will be the least of his concerns. When Scorponok and Dezarus find out what has transpired, - and they will eventually - Razorclaw will have to contend with them. It is only a matter of when. We must not present the Autobots with an opportunity."

Flamewar paused to note the arrival of Brawl and Motormaster before continuing.

"As for Starscream, he has always been a nuisance. Only now a new, weaker leader has been crowned, which works to his advantage. Of course, knowing this as most do, this also works to his disadvantage. Still, it would be wise to keep a vigilant optic on him lest he get any...ideas."

"From what I have gathered of the Autobots, they have lost their commander as well. Their ultimate symbol of hope. Their new commander will also face challenges to his authority. The footing is about even in this regard. Regardless, I intend to ensure that no one disturbs the fragile stability that has coagulated over the weal that Lord Megatron's demise left."


Hangar

"Desire you to bear the load, object I would not, yet volunteer I did not hear you," Weirdwolf commented in response to his friend's endless barrage of questions. Skullcruncher tossed two more injured vehicons on his back, causing the tracker to grunt softly with the weight of the load. "Skullcruncher..." Weirdwolf said as he saw his friend lift up yet another vehicon.

And onto his back it went. "Skullcruncher." Another one swiftly followed as well as more commentary from Skullcruncher about how he was better suited for the task. "Enough of a load have I to bear!" Weirdwolf barked at his friend.

And he knelt down to pick up another Decepticon. This time, however, he spoke of something far less aggravating. "Some beyond repair there are I imagine," Weirdwolf said blithely, sniffing the air, "One or two out of the mass missing go unnoticed it would likely."

"Did you not your fill have during the battle?"

Med Bay

Landgrab wasn't accustomed to being spoken to in anything other than commands. He had to take a moment to realize that he wasn't being given an order but instead being asked a question.

"Oh, uh, Landgrab. It's Landgrab. Yeah. One of Shockwave's....uh...drones, I guess. Well, not really drones like Vehicons, but you know. Just do what I'm told. That's what I do. You and Battletrap were projects of Shockwave too right? Before he made the triple-changers?"

Corridors

>>"New leader? Oh yeah, Razorclaw won it for himself. Well, he and his beastly friends did, but he ultimately won the title. Makes me sick... Shockwave should have- No... WOULD have won that fight were it not for Razorclaw's minions and Motormaster stepping in. He would have blasted Razorclaw's smug look clean of his faceplate!"<<

Blitzwing called to Astrotrain from the empty corridor of the Thanatos' hallways. Well if Astrotrain is planning on bailing, might as well stick around here then, no point in leaving just to head straight back here. The commando then decided to await Astrotrain's response before he'd move on elsewhere aboard.

Thanatos--Hangar

"Enough of a load have I to bear!"

"Heh." Skullcruncher chuckled and stood up. "I am offering now I guess."

Having said his piece, Skullcruncher walked over to Weirdwolf and lifted the entire pile of Decepticons from the wolf's back before setting them carefully to ground. Following that, the large Decepticon activated his own transformation sequence, taking a form of a Trojan Armoured Vehicle - an earthen combat engineering vehicle with battlefield purpose similar to his original Cybertronian form.

"Yeah well. I am not Hun-Gurrr." Skullcruncher replied to Weirdwolf's query. It was stating the obvious more or less. Weirdwolf knew very well that Skullcruncher was not going to kill another Decepticon just to get his fill. No, the other Decepticon would have had to aggravate the green and maroon warrior badly before getting such a reaction from Skullcruncher. Taking that into consideration, Skullcruncher really did not have any problems against killing if he felt the target deserved it.

Grabbing couple of wounded Decepticons to be held in his excavator arm Skullcruncher addressed Weirdwolf again, "Pile them up, should be able to carry twenty or so and drag even more."