The Energon Pub

Thanatos Medical Bay

“Its all gone to slag”

Was Crueljaw’s immediate response as he struggled to register all the events of the last few minutes first the engines died effectively stranding them. Then something that claimed to be the fallen had just addressed the warship from their engine room. Then Shockwave fell out of the CR chamber like a protoforms with a gyroscopic imbalance.

The decepticon looked at Flamewar in the slim hope that she had some idea of what had just happened.

“We going to war with a myth?”

Bounce Chamber

In another flash, Scrapper appeared. He staggered slightly off the bounce pad, feeling a little more disoriented than usual when he did this. Clearly his spatial gyros needed a minor adjustment. Taking a moment to orient himself, the Constructicon Commander then headed off in the direction of the battleship's engine room. He knew the others would be able to find their way around this ship just as well as he.
___

Med Bay

Landgrab had stood frozen in his position. He didn't know what to do in situations like this. Whatever that was that had appeared, Landgrab had never seen or heard anything like it. And he never wanted to again.

Flywheels' last statement jarred him, if only slightly, out of his terrified stupor.

"Missed a lot. Probably not the best time to get reactivated either. Might've been safer in your CR unit," Landgrab said, looking around and notching that Shockwave was--in fact--no longer contained safely within his own CR chamber. This was serious. Thankfully, he would also know what to do. or at least what Landgrab needed to do.

He moved closer to the purple mech, but still kept a respectful distance from the more imposing Decepticons that were vying for Shockwave's attention at the moment. He just wanted to overhear something that might give him some sort of clue as to what to do next in order to stay alive.

Engine Room:


Bonecrusher walked to The Engine Room. He heard that The Fallen has destroyed it and that he and the other Constructicon must rebuild it, and it must be fast because now they're standing still. He entered the Engine Room and sees Scrapper. ''Hello, Scrapper what must we repaire this time at this rusty thing?'' said Bonecrusher while he is rubbing in his hands. When he looks from Scrapper to the Engine he can't believe it. It's a rubble-strewn wasteland. ''Scrapper, our leader has made a fault. This is a rubble-strewn wasteland, it's good enough for me. Look at it, it's better than before.'' said Bonecrusher smiling.

Corridors

The dimly lit corridor started to build with a white light after the pulse of the teleportation flare, the green and purple frame of Mix Master was left stood readjusting to being within the void again. His optics scanned the area from behind his visor the Thanatos hadn’t changed in the slightest with the exception of being a lot darker.

“Ugh guess I’d better head for the engine room”

The materials expert strode off towards where he remembered the engine room to be.

Bounce Chamber

"-urk...!"

Scavenger wheezed as the white light faded and was replaced by a particularly sickening wave of disorientation that accompanied most orbital bounces for the poor excavator. How he wished that were was a better way of moving about...Leaning up against a wall for support, Scavenger waited for the vindictive sickness to wear off.

It, however, happened to be taking its dear sweet time, and Scavenger had precious little of that to waste. He had to get to the engine room swiftly. Otherwise...the others would be upset with him for his tardiness! No! That was a fate more horrid than termination. Staggering forward with his hand tracing the wall, Scavenger meandered off toward the engine room.

"C-comin' guys..."

Med Bay

“Uh, okay,” Flywheels said in response to Landgrab's answer.

More cryptic than revealing, Flywheels just left it at that. If that was the most clear reply he could extract from Landgrab, then maybe pressing him for additional information wasn't such a great idea. Couple that with Landgrab moving away from Flywheels to get closer to Shockwave, and... well, forget about it.

Leaving Shockwave be for the moment (like he needed guarding now, anyway; even in his current state, he was more than capable of protecting himself), Flywheels took a stroll through the med bay, adjusting his audio receptors to a more sensitive frequency so they could snare every word within reach. The tidbits he accumulated from the wounded gave him pause, arresting his limbs abruptly.

There he stood, gaze aimed at the floor, with his mouth ajar, as if gasping at the revelations bounding forth from the sentences he'd heard.

“That was The Fallen...”

“Someone just told me that the engines are down, so we ain't goin' nowhere for a while...”

“The Fallen? We're so dead...”

Now this was too much to take in. Way too much. The Fallen? The actual Fallen? And not to mention the Thanatos, with its engines now compromised, and about as manoeuvrable as a cyber-sloth clinging to the trunk of a tree.

How his central processor didn't implode owing to these ludicrous pieces of information remained a mystery.

Flywheels wandered back over to where Battletrap was. Standing next to his fellow Duocon, he fell silent, busy with thoughts of destruction, of death, of extinction.

Good-bye, life.

Hello, apocalypse.

Bounce Chamber

Like the rest of his comrades, Long Haul appeared on the bounce pad in a flash of brilliant light, which disappeared as quickly as it had manifested. The disorienting effects of the trip were hard enough to bare when one was ready for it. In this particular case, Long Haul had not expected to be so suddenly yanked from the Ultrax and transported onto the Thanatos like that. As a result, he was a bit more dazed and confused now that he had arrived on board the Predacon warship than he normally would have been. Still, after a few extra astroseconds, the wave's effects wore off enough that the transporter could stabilize his movements and walk effectively off of the bounce pad.

"Well, that was fun," Long Haul commented as he gazed around the room, noting that Scavenger and Mixmaster had also just arrived and were already making their way towards the exit. "Hey, guys, wait up!" The heavy lifter shouted as he quickly followed his Constructicon teammates out of the chamber and down to the engine room.

Corridors

That smile. That all-too-familiar smug smile was plastered on Starscream’s face as he walked nonchalantly through the corridors of the great warship. Of course the Seeker Commander had witnessed his rightful place taken from him, but that didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Well, The Fallen mattered. But he would deal with that in time.

For now what mattered was his destination.

While leaving the hanger he had received a transmission that his package had finally arrived. A little late, but it was here.

And so he strolled. He’d do so until he located his shipment.

As he wandered he thought. There was a time, back on that floating organic sludge-ball, when he was important. Then he was placed in command of an infiltration team. Being alone, being the only one in command made it much easier to plan. Megatron wasn’t around. That singular thought had his smile growing wider. No, Megatron wasn’t around then…well that wasn’t entirely true.

Starscream’s face darkened at the memories of Megatron’s arrival to Earth. “But you’re not here now, are you Lord Megatron.” The silver Seeker growled out the words lowly. The recollection quickly soured his demeanor yet he still pressed forward.

He turned a corner and stopped. Starscream placed one hand on his hip and smiled broadly as the large form drew closer.

“Well, well, well. This is quite a surprise. Of all the Decepticons I would never have expected to see you stalking these halls.” His hand slipped from his hip.

For several moments he simply watched before he finally opened a private comm link with the new arrival. After all it was always better to play it safe when Soundwave was present. >>“You must be confused. After all you only come when your master calls. And yet he is no longer amongst the living.”<< The Seeker Commander smirked knowingly.

Slowly, and carefully Starscream moved forward. >>“I’m sure you’ll want an explanation and I am more than happy to provide one.”<< His head rose and his shoulders drew back. >> “What would you like to know first, Sixshot?”<<

Med Bay

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

Shockwave took a brief moment to consider Shadowing's analysis. The typical flaws he found within the vast majority of proposals were not evident in this one. Indeed, there was nothing in Shadowing's analysis that Shockwave was not already planning to do. Thus...

"Declarative: your analysis is acceptable. Proceed," Shockwave stated, before continuing to examine the surroundings of those within the med bay. Indeed, it would be best to tend to his own injuries first and then resume his original work on the ultra-energon and the mechaforming technology he had retrieved from Cybertron. He now possessed a wealth of hard data on the benefits of ultra-energon and its effects on a variety of Cybertronians. Now it was time to start extrapolating other potential applications from that highly valuable raw data.

All things with time.

Saying nothing more, Shockwave moved to one of the repair berths and opened a secondary compartment on his cannon arm where he could begin additional repairs.
___

Engine Room

Scrapper was actually surprised to see that Bonecrusher was the first to arrive. He knew the others wouldn't be far behind, but Bonecrusher had a tendency to lag. Not this cycle, it seemed. Everywhere there were flames and fumes. One seemed to pile on top of the other.

He sent a quick, non-verbal comm to the bridge, confirming that the Constructicons were in the process of arriving in the engine room and they would begin working on the problem.

Problems.

"Yes, the Fallen....or whoever he is...certainly did a number on this ship. He clearly doesn't intend for us to be moving for a while," Scrapper said as he moved to one of the generators and produced a small acetylene torch and began to reseal some of the fissures. "But our destruction was clearly not his goal. Not yet anyway. He could have done so much more damage than he did. We're lucky the ship didn't explode, even accidentally."

Corridors

The Phase Sixer stalked the corridors of the Thanatos, the great Predacon warship that had destroyed countless Autobot vessels throughout this vast and seemingly endless war. His destination was the bridge where he would get the answers that he sought. Sixshot was not one to be toyed with in such a manner. He had expected Megatron to greet him when he had arrived, but instead was told by a lowly Combaticon no less that the slagmaker was dead and that Razorclaw was now the leader after a fierce brawl in the hangar. It was almost too much for one mech to take in and handle. Almost.

Of course, the sixchanger wasn’t just any mech. He was a one-bot army of immense power and strength, capable of doing whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, at least to a certain extent. The only obstacle was the little known code phase that Megatron had programmed him with which could deactivate him. It was a failsafe to ensure that the Phase Sixer would not try to overthrow the slagmaker. Of course, Sixshot could care less about leadership, but if Megatron was, in fact, gone then perhaps the sixchanger was now truly free to go anywhere and destroy anything that he wanted without any kind of constraints.

Even if that was the case, someone had still called Sixshot here, someone who wanted something from him no doubt. As he rounded another corner on his way to the bridge, the Phase Sixer came faceplate to faceplate with the very answer that he sought. “Starscream,” Sixshot spoke plainly as he approached the Seeker Commander. That smug look on the red and white flier’s faceplate was almost asking to be punched, but the sixchanger reframed from doing so...for now. “Why does finding you here not surprise me?” Sixshot commented, pausing only long enough to allow Starscream to say his peace. Once the head seeker was finished, Sixshot moved in close, folding his massive arms over his equally massive chestplate and staring down at the much smaller and far more cowardly mech standing before him.

“Confused? Perhaps. But things have just become a lot clearer to me now. I was on my way to the bridge to get answers out of Razorclaw when I so conveniently bumped into you. In this enormous ship with countless corridors, I just so happen to find you lurking about in this one. How about that, huh? Something tells me that this encounter here is no coincidence, especially considering that you’re using a private comm line to speak with me. Trying to avoid Soundwave’s impeccable audios, are we?”

Sixshot stopped for a moment to judge the reaction on the Seeker Commander’s faceplate. Then the sixchanger’s tone grew more serious as his red optics bore down into those of the cowardly flier. “What I want to know first, Starscream, is if Megatron’s really dead then who on this warship called for me? I only come when a planet is in need of destroying and this little backwater world looks to be barely out of Phase One. I could ascertain that much on approach. If the message wasn't from Megatron then it had to be from someone that had been close to him who would know how to contact me. So, tell me, Starscream, while you still function, why am I here!?”

Bridge

Razorclaw focused his attention back on Onslaught as the Combaticon Commander briefed him on what little info he was able to gain from his brief discussion with Ultra Magnus before communications with the Autobots were knocked out. It seemed that Magnus wanted to have some sort of meeting whereby they could discuss what to do next in regards to the Fallen and his captured heralds. As far as the Predacon lord was concerned there was only one thing to do and that was to attack and eradicate the Fallen before the fiery demigod, or whatever it was, had a chance to strike at them again. Although, it now appeared as though the Fallen was trying to lure them to him at a place somewhere on Earth, an obvious trap as far as the lion-former was concerned. But, as Onslaught questioned, should they take the bait? Did they even have a choice?

The Predacon lord then moved his optics over to a holoscreen where the Combaticon Commander had brought up the personnel files on the Decepticons that had been converted into two of the Fallen’s heralds. “Drag Strip and Darkride,” Razorclaw spoke in a plain tone. “A Stunticon and one of our best interrogators. Interesting choices the Fallen has made if not unremarkable. Physical size and strength were obviously not a concern when choosing these two. Regardless, Motormaster will need to be informed of Drag Strip’s current state. I’m sure he will be less than pleased at the loss of one of his own. Heh. In all actuality, if I were Drag Strip, I’d hope to remain a herald as returning to Motormaster’s clutches will surely be less than a pleasant experience for him.”

Razorclaw then turned his attention away from the holoscreen and back at the Combaticon Commander. “As for whether or not we should take the bait, as you put it, I see few other options available to us. If we simply ignore this, the Fallen will eventually attack us again. Furthermore, meeting with the Autobots at some location of their choosing puts us at a disadvantage that I will not risk. No, we will head to these coordinates the Fallen has given us, but we will set down several miles away from his location and approach on the ground at night. To do this we will need as much information on the area as possible. I will not go into this blindly. Onslaught, accumulate whatever data you can regarding the geography and topography for a ten mile radius around these coordinates. Then prepare your squad for battle.”

The lion-former then approached the command chair and touched a small panel on the arm, activating the ship-wide comm link:

>>”Attention, all Decepticons! This is Razorclaw, your new supreme leader. I want everyone not currently in stasis lock to get whatever repairs are needed and ready yourselves for battle within three breems. We are taking the fight to the Fallen and his heralds. They have dared to attack us on board our own ship and we will respond accordingly. Constructicons, you will remain here on the Thanatos in order to fix the engines and primary generators. I want this warship back up and running ASAP. Divebomb, provide me with a status update on Headstrong’s condition. Everyone else who is conscious will be expected to take part in the coming battle. Razorclaw out.”<<

Cutting the ship-wide comm line, the Predacon Commander then turned to the monotone mech occupying the communications station. “Soundwave, try to get a message out to Ultra Magnus. Tell him that we will be heading down to fight the Fallen in approximately three breems. If he wishes to join us there he is more than welcome to. We can partake in any discussions he wants to have at that time.” Razorclaw then locked optics with Onslaught once more. “We didn’t work so hard to achieve leadership of the Decepticons just to have it all taken away by some mythical demigod! It would take the return of Megatron, himself, to dethrone me! We will destroy this enemy one way or another. I can promise you that!”

''If we have fixed The Engine Room will The Fallen again destroy it? What if he will destroy us too at the moment we are fixing The Engines?'' said Bonecrusher little scared. He sees that Scrapper has started with fixing the Generator. ''We can better begin with the flames, I don't want that my paintjob is burning.'' said Bonecrusher hesitant. When he sees that Scrapper is numb the flames because he is reseal the fissures. Bonecrusher is also beginning to work. ''Or we can fix the fissures so the flames will numbing like what you are doing Scrapper.'' said Bonecrusher surrendered to his fellow Constructicon. Then Bonecrusher is also reseals the fissures of The Generator. ''But it is your fault if my paintjob is burning.'' said Bonecrusher.

Engineering Bay

The doors to the engineering section opened revealing a fuming Mixmaster since the bounce sickness had worn off. All his work on the planet designing and implementing several new materials which were ready for deploying. But despite his anger he could tell that someone had done a serious number on the engines and generators of the once proud warship.

Scrapper and Bonecrusher where already working on repairing one of the generators, Mixmaster’s optics swung around taking in the damage as he heard Scrappers assessment about the Fallen being lucky.

“When dealing with mythical monsters or ancient Cybertronians the key is experience and being that old he knew exactly what he was hitting”

Mixmaster looked at the fusion generator further down and made for it the complex equations for getting the mixtures right to get the raw fuel firing might calm him down. He strode past the four mechs that where gathered in the engineering bay “Come on now femmes clear the area Constructicons heading to work plus I believe your needed elsewhere” Mixmaster commented as Razorclaw’s message for all available hands to get ready for war come through as he started to rebuild the generator. It was logical to get the power up and running before they started on locomotion for the huge ship.

Medical Bay

Crueljaw took the sight of shockwave being up and around in his stride though looking like he’d been run through by Scorponok’s tail spike at least his reactor wasn’t going to explode. He stood silently to one side as the cycloptic warlord moved himself off to a repair bay to continue his repairs personally.

It was then that Razorclaw’s orders blared out across the intercom ordering all conscious decepticons to get ready for war with a fairy tale monster. Crueljaw looked at his armoured form except for some minor pockets from Thundercracker’s arm rifles he’d come off lightly in the melee that surrounded the Leadership duels. Checking his internal power reserves he found his reserves where at half level the skirmish on the planet with the walking off liners then the scrap in the hanger had drained his energon opening one of his body locker’s he found the diminutive form of Psychout still snugly within his locker “whoops wrong locker” he muttered as he opened another revealing energon rations. Extending a small tube from the inside of the locker and connected it to the rations closing the locker he felt his fuel reserves start to climb again along with the small HUD display which showed it visually rising.

"I've never gone to war with a myth should be fun"

Engine Room

“Hey, guys! I see you beat me here. I take it the Fallen is gone? At least, I hope he is."

"We're all hoping so, Blast-Off." Blitzwing stated to the Combaticon as he made his arrival into the engine room. The commando kept a strong hand near the hilt of his scimitar, just in the event the Fallen of his cronies were still lurking about. "We just came to make sure this "Fallen" guy wasn't still hanging around here. Well, can't say the same thing bout these two." The triple changer stated as he gestured to Warwolf and Misfire. "Any of you guys know how to fix the damn thing?"

Warwolf broke his stare from the tattered and twisted metal of what you to be a fusion generator as he turned back to Blast-Off and the others.

"I don't have a clue where to start," the interrogator began as he placed closed fists against the paneling of his hip-servos, "Would if I could, but I can't." He gazed up to the scaffolding and noticed the Constructicons had found their way back aboard the ship, no doubt called upon to clean up and repair this messy engine room. Soon Scrapper and Bonecrusher were already down on the ground floor and beginning the repairing process.

>>”Attention, all Decepticons! This is Razorclaw, your new supreme leader. I want everyone not currently in stasis lock to get whatever repairs are needed and ready yourselves for battle within three breems. We are taking the fight to the Fallen and his heralds. They have dared to attack us on board our own ship and we will respond accordingly. Constructicons, you will remain here on the Thanatos in order to fix the engines and primary generators. I want this warship back up and running ASAP. Divebomb, provide me with a status update on Headstrong’s condition. Everyone else who is conscious will be expected to take part in the coming battle. Razorclaw out."<<

"Wait, what's going on now?" Blitzwing asked as the Razorclaw's message faded out from the engine room speaker systems. "We're actually going to fight that guy?" Warwolf lifted his leg from the pool of hydraulic fluids and spilled energon that flooded the room and gazed back towards the entrance.

"What ever gets us out of this mess." The interrogator commented as he began strolling through the thick liquid on the floor. As Warwolf began to take his exit, Mixmaster entered the room and began shooing he and the other non-Constructicons out, essentially just repeating orders that they all just recieved.

>>"Warwolf to Flamewar,"<< The mutant lupine began as he opened a comm line to his mentor, ">>Engine room is under control, Constructicons are beginning their repairs of the main engine systems. In case you haven't already heard our new Supreme Commander's message, I'm making my way to my hab suite to refuel and rearm myself. Warwolf out."<<

Corridors/Engine Room

Still feeling rather ill, Scavenger heard someone shouting and naturally turned to look and see who it was. Long Haul. The excavator had to admit; it was good to see a friendly face. He waited for Long Haul to catch up. Partly out of the need to please, but mostly because moving did his illness no favors. "Hey th-there, Long Haul...What d-did Ramjet want? Did y-ya fix it?"

Scavenger resumed walking as Long Haul caught up to him, lumbering toward the engine room as they were order. The sickness was just beginning to pass as they entered, Scrapper and Bonecrusher coming into sight first. Scavenger was relieved to see them. Perhaps now things would become a little more placid for the excavator. Mixmaster had moved off near some other Decepticons who were in the engine room for some reason or other. Scavenger really didn't care.

The excavator instead moved over to where Scrapper and Bonecrusher were offering them a nod in greeting.

"Hey Scrapper. Wh-What can we do to help?" he asked, mostly because the task he normally gravitated to - excavating - was clearly not relevant here.

------

Hangar

"Uh, was that Sixshot?"

Weirdwolf had indeed noted the arrival of the Phase Sixer with some surprise and equal amounts of confusion as the fairly large mech terrorized Blast-Off and stalked out of the hangar. "The Phase Sixer of six forms it was indeed, Skullcruncher," Weirdwolf said without much inflection or any real emotion.

The tracker finished loading the injured Decepticons onto the back of Skullcruncher and shook his hands free of some of the stagnant energon that had adhered to his actuators while handling the injured. "Loaded you are. To the medical bay we go," Weirdwolf said as he exited the hangar in the wake of Sixshot.

The events that had just occurred - the Fallen and the arrival of Sixshot - really hadn't sunken in all that well for Weirdwolf. It was utterly bizarre. Like the world had fallen prey to madness. Total madness. Weirdwolf looked down at Skullcruncher with a perplexed expression on his face.

"Phase One barely this planet is out of, yes?" the tracker asked his friend, trying to confirm a fact he once believed to be true.

"The Fallen rears his head he does now as well...matters not if he of the Thirteen or Guiding Hand is. Truly, the kinslayer he is? Go to war with a myth do we? To scare protoforms into behaving a legend passed down? Too much truth in this legend I find."

"Prefer I to have the slagmaker at the helm in times of trouble these. Support I do Razorclaw for what may be worth that, for too have the Autobots lost a leader. Work to our disadvantage in ways incomprehensible to us until now this may. The timing convenient for this Fallen it seems too much however...When both sides at their weakest are he appears. Rotten smells something," Weirdwolf rambled, thinking aloud as he wandered through the corridors toward the medical bay with Skullcruncher.

-----

Medical Bay

Divebomb had arrived in the medical and flown straight to one of the free examination tables. Not that there were that many any more. When the medical drones did not immediately swarm to attend to his teammate's injuries, the Predacon eagle took wing once more and dived down onto one of the drones lifting him up and returning to the slab where Headstrong rested and depositing him neatly beside the table while Divebomb perched on the edge.

"You. Attend to Headstrong's wounds," Divebomb cawed irately.

"Yes, at once," the drone answered in a dull monotone voice as it set about its work. More drones were swift to follow as Divebomb scanned the medical for an actual medic. There was one working on Motormaster, but Divebomb had no inclination to take her away from her work while Motormaster was still fully aware.

The avian Predacon cast his piercing gaze back down to Headstrong as the drone worked on his repairs. Thunderwing sure had done a number on him. Divebomb had his own share of injuries, but he had managed to avoid the worst of it. Fortunately enough for him. One of those blows from Thunderwing had really smarted. He ought to get that looked at.

Divebomb leaned forward and tapped a drone on the head with his beak. "Hey, you there. Tend to my injuries," the eagle ordered curtly.

"Yessir," it replied blithely. Divebomb had stopped paying it any mind after he'd issued his command. As the drone mindlessly set about to repairing some of Divebomb's own damages, the monitors in the medical flicked online and an unfamiliar voice filtered out over the PA systems. The Fallen? This couldn't end well. What a time to take leadership of the Decepticons. Razorclaw was going to need their full support.

he noticed Shockwave tumble out of his CR chamber. That...wasn't great. But the cyclops didn't go berserk and attack anyone, and Divebomb had no real inclination to start up a fight with him. Especially not with the Fallen having destroyed their engines.

>>”Attention, all Decepticons! This is Razorclaw, your new supreme leader. I want everyone not currently in stasis lock to get whatever repairs are needed and ready yourselves for battle within three breems. We are taking the fight to the Fallen and his heralds. They have dared to attack us on board our own ship and we will respond accordingly. Constructicons, you will remain here on the Thanatos in order to fix the engines and primary generators. I want this warship back up and running ASAP. Divebomb, provide me with a status update on Headstrong’s condition. Everyone else who is conscious will be expected to take part in the coming battle. Razorclaw out."<<

Well, at least Razorclaw was taking charge and showing these mechs who was boss. Going to be a lot more of those proving grounds as time went on. Divebomb glanced over to Headstrong who was still decently damaged. He might not make it to the party. Divebomb opened up a comm link to Razorclaw.

>>"Divebomb to Razorclaw. Headstrong is still down for the count. I've got a bunch of medical drones on him though, so he might be functional again soon. At least enough to work. This Fallen guy has some timing."<<

((OOC: I'll add Flamewar later.))

Med Bay

Shadowing nodded to Shockwave. He had no doubt his suggestion would be adopted. Shockwave would never reject a logical idea. He had already begun formulating ideas in his mind and turned to Flamewar.

"Difficult as it may be, we shall need to talk to Razorclaw. With any luck he realizes the seriousness of what we are dealing with and allows the work that needs to be done without interruptions."

Glory was always unneccessary to Shadowing. If he felt a task would be better done with other individuals he would not hesitate to do so.

Engine Room

Misfire heard Razorclaw make his grand proclamation. Taking all the functional Decepticons to go do battle with the Fallen? As if being dragged around by Warwolf wasn't bad enough...

...still, at least he'd be surrounded by the elite members of the Decepticons, including nearly all of the upper command structure. If nothing else, they'd have a massive numerical advantage to work with when they deployed to Earth, and Misfire could always switch to his jet mode and make a strategic retreat when things inevitably went south.

Misfire glanced over at the Constructicons beginning their work on the engine block. He could certainly use them for cover... or if he continued to follow Flamewar's instructions, he'd be surrounded by a bunch of land-based schlubs to die in his place.

Battles against monstrous ancient deities were so much easier to accept when you could be surrounded by cannon fodder.

Slowly, purposefully, Misfire headed back down the hall to report back to Flamewar... ready to follow her every directive, and quietly hoping her or her political rivals would be leading the charge.

-

Hallways

Bitstream attended to the electrical panel on the starboard E-deck, loading new cables into the box and reattaching burnt and spent cords. The ship had taken a few bad hits, but at least the emergency lighting was functional and he could see what he was doing. He mused that he might be gaining some influence over the ship's denizens when he heard:

>>”Attention, all Decepticons! This is Razorclaw, your new supreme leader. I want everyone not currently in stasis lock to get whatever repairs are needed and ready yourselves for battle within three breems. We are taking the fight to the Fallen and his heralds. They have dared to attack us on board our own ship and we will respond accordingly. Constructicons, you will remain here on the Thanatos in order to fix the engines and primary generators. I want this warship back up and running ASAP. Divebomb, provide me with a status update on Headstrong’s condition. Everyone else who is conscious will be expected to take part in the coming battle. Razorclaw out."<<

Razorclaw? He was in charge of this ship?

Bitstream turned to the nearest terminal, reactivated by the infusion of electricity. He remembered what the adjutant had told him: Battlecruiser Thanatos.

Razorclaw. Predacon Commander. A ruthless hunter and fierce proponent of the Decepticon cause.

Bitstream Prime had killed him three million stellar cycles ago, fearing he might form a new insurgency right under his new regime; maybe expand his Predacon armies into a whole new political movement.

Yet he lived, and commanded this vessel, and...

...and Bitstream's hud hadn't been working properly since he arrived at this level. He'd been unable to influence the lives of these renegades; unable to sway them with his passion and rhetoric.

Razorclaw. Shockwave. No hud. Decepticons still fighting the same war. Bitstream Prime...

...no, not Prime. Not Supreme Commander of all Cybertronians. Just... a Seeker; a low ranking one. An engineer under Starscream's thrall. A Seeker forced to wear the face of a treacherous, cowardly schemer... forced to serve a corrupt, oppressive regime because his skills were valuable to them.

The world, the peace he had created, the rule he had established, in one fell swoop... crumbled.

He finally heard his computer again. He was nearly depleted of Energon; running on empty. His body was weak from a prolonged stay in the network terminus. His weapons could not be activated, his power so low.

Bitstream was back in harsh, brutal reality. And, it seemed... that reality would lead him to face a new enemy.

Death was possible.

Good.

-

Med Bay

It was said Megatron could fight without power left, without any ability to fire his fusion cannon or transform into his formidable alt mode. He could continue to wage war, continue to live, purely on his rage. He took his anger and turned it into fuel. Megatron burned brighter because his anger was motivated by the shackles of an unjust regime, one that had brutalized him and many more like him. Rage gave him focus. Gave him purpose. Made him powerful.

The young Seeker felt his visor crackle back on. He was within a CR chamber... being reformed. Slowly. It would take a few breems to repair the damage to his skull after Tantrum broke it open. Someone had carried him to be repaired... so it seemed fate would give him a chance at redemption, to erase the humiliation of his ignominious defeat.

Nightweaver remembered that pain. Remembered the sting of defeat. He focused on it. Focused on the memory. On the fight. On the pain. On the rage.

"You din't break me."

Nightweaver clenched a fist. He could not remove himself from the chamber, not yet.

But he could focus on that rage, and let it give him purpose.

Revenge. Not, perhaps, on Tantrum... after all, if Tantrum had wanted the Seeker dead, he'd be dead.

No, he would just turn his rage wherever his commander pointed him. He would fight. He would rush into battle again, and put his blade through whatever spark stood in his way.

As he floated, suspended in the chamber, he replayed the final moment; his defeat, crashing into Tantrum's fist. Charging right at his adversary and playing into his hand.

If at first he didn't succeed... he would fly faster and hit harder.

If he would but let rage be his fuel...

Medical Bay

After Shockwave's initial acknowledgement of her presence, Flamewar simply stood back and observed the exchange between the Decepticon's leading scientist and his assistant. Fascinating to say the least, and interesting how Shockwave's robotic and analytical demeanor could infect another so thoroughly. Crueljaw said something to the effect of going to war with a myth. Flamewar considered that. They were indeed if this was truly the Fallen. But, he would fall all the same to the might of the Decepticons. Flamewar had no intentions of letting the empire die here.

As Shockwave walked away to tend to his repairs himself, Shadowing addressed her.

"Difficult as it may be, we shall need to talk to Razorclaw. With any luck he realizes the seriousness of what we are dealing with and allows the work that needs to be done without interruptions."

"Only a fool would be ignorant to the solemnity of the situation. Razorclaw is no fool," Flamewar said calmly.

>>”Attention, all Decepticons! This is Razorclaw, your new supreme leader. I want everyone not currently in stasis lock to get whatever repairs are needed and ready yourselves for battle within three breems. We are taking the fight to the Fallen and his heralds. They have dared to attack us on board our own ship and we will respond accordingly. Constructicons, you will remain here on the Thanatos in order to fix the engines and primary generators. I want this warship back up and running ASAP. Divebomb, provide me with a status update on Headstrong’s condition. Everyone else who is conscious will be expected to take part in the coming battle. Razorclaw out."<<

Flamewar walked back over to her patient, looking over to Crueljaw as he commented on the battle with the Fallen. "It shall indeed be interesting that much is certain," she said to him. Picking up her scalpel, she set about to finishing her repairs on the injured Decepticon that she had picked up. Razorclaw, at least, was not a coward like Starscream. He could never be the slagmaker, but he had...potential. The real test of his leadership was only just beginning.

>>"Warwolf to Flamewar. Engine room is under control, Constructicons are beginning their repairs of the main engine systems. In case you haven't already heard our new Supreme Commander's message, I'm making my way to my hab suite to refuel and rearm myself. Warwolf out."<<

>>"I read you, Warwolf,"<< Flamewar answered back, >>"Good work. Be sure you are fully prepared for the coming battle. I would prefer not to have to rebuild you after the battle,"<< the lupine mech's old mentor said flatly, >>"Flamewar out."<<

Cutting off the transmission, Flamewar performed a quick diagnostic on her own systems to check if they were running at optimum levels. She had few doubts that they were, but it would be foolish not to check when a battle with a myth awaited her.

Thanatos--Med Bay

Prod.

"Doc?!"

It was propably the third time Brawl prodded Orbitoclast with his gun in the passing breem. Or fifth. Brawl for sure was not counting and his attention span wasn't exactly tailored towards situations like this anyhow. His thoughts weren't exactly here either. Not with the promise of such an epic battle in the horizon. They were going to face a proverbial god. Oh man, Brawl couldn't have been much more excited. No one was going to tell him to hold back in a fight like that. And would they succeed in defeating the Fallen, he'd have achieved the right to call himself a godslayer. Now how fragging sweet was that? Stuff legends were made of. Slag, he was going to become a legend.

"Well?! You heard the call from the boss bot doc! Can you get the big rig patched up in time we're set to go, huh?!"

"Well?!"

"Doc?!"


Thanatos--Hangar

"Weren't we like... in phase 3?" Skullcruncher muttered in response to Weirdwolf's question as he set off towards the med bay with his considerable amount of cargo. If cargo really was the appropriate word for a dozen of wounded Decepticons. "Not that the phases really matter here... not anymore."

"I don't know if this bot is the real deal but one thing is for sure. With Sixshot here we are going to see whether or not this Fallen deserves the reputation he got." The green and maroon bruiser said while rolling forwards towards his ever approaching target. "I mean... all those tales and such, I don't think this bot is the Fallen if he can't defeat a phase sixer. 'course, if he does - that doesn't really bode well for us."

"Meh, in the end they all die the same. Primes or not. Megatron killed two already, why would this one be any different? That might actually be the answer for your question. I mean, why now? Maybe the why is because Megatron and Optimus Prime are gone." He kept speculating as he finally pulled to stop in front of the med bay.

"Now how about less thinking and more getting ready to do what Razorclaw commands?"

Warwolf's Hab Suite

Warwolf entered his hab suite unsure of if Misfire and Blitzwing were still following him out of the engine deck while the Constructicons began their repairs on the engine deck. He shot his "dart board" a quick glance out the corner of his optical visor at the vast amount of throwing knives he had tossed into it before he had exited his suite quite some time ago. The interrogator approached the board with heavy foot steps as he reached out to retrieve his knives from the crude target he had created for himself to relieve his boredom.

"You can't fight it forever."

Warwolf gripped the handle of one of the embedded blades and held it tight as his violent thoughts began talking to him in the back of his processor.

"Don't deny it, you know the sight of that body littered hangar made me more powerful."

Although Warwolf wasn't known to directly talk to the voices he heard in his head, he still denied the thought as he pulled the blade from its crevice in the board.

"I can feel you growing angry at me. Don't worry, I don't take that kinda stuff to heart, it only fuels my progress and means of escape."

"Flamewar taught me some ways to prevent you from getting out, and I'm gonna ensure you never wi-"

"LIES! You think keeping me locked away in the back of your mind will save anyone? No matter where you go, where you hide, or how far you seclude yourself from everything, I will always be here, clawing my way out until I force you into just a memory!"

The interrogator sheathed the last of his knives from the board and he gripped the side of his wall, digging his pointed actuators into the metallic walls.

"Face it...I'll be coming out soon, and you have no means of stopping me. No one will be safe..."

In a flash, Warwolf swiped his clawed actuators across the wall as he spun himself around, hoping to slash at the voice that wasn't there. He looked down at his pointed actuators and back to the wall at his newly acquired damage. His slash didn't rip all the way through the ship's metallic walling, but it left quite the mark in his room.

"Goooood... Get angry, it gets me one step closer."

Warwolf sat against his slab, trying to clear his head. He checked his fuel levels, trying to distract himself from the message his own sub-conscience was sent him. He couldn't hear any more murming, no voices. Perhaps it was a bluff... Maybe his feral side was the one who was scared and tried to attack him emotionally?

The mutated lupine sunk his optical visor into the gap between his thumb and index actuator as he began to take deeper and deeper breaths. Sitting back up, he shifted his attention back to the power readings that flashed in his HUD. 73% it read, and who knows how long this little excursion with the mythical Prime would take. He walked across his room and opened one of his supply crates and pulled out a cube of bright, fluorescent-pink, synthetic Energon from the stash of his own rations he keeps away for when he feels that he needs to isolate himself from his comrades.

He opened the panel on his chest cavity and connected his fueling tube to the cube of liquid lifeforce. He rested himself on his slab and placed the cube at his side. As he refueled, he stared at the roof of his suite and began a sort of "meditation" process Flamewar had taught him a few vorns ago while he was assigned under her guidance and tutoring.

"Relax...Just, Relax..." He began through some deep breaths. "What was that motto again? Processor over matter? Processor... Over matter..."

Bounce Chamber

Appearing on the other side of the bounce, Thundercracker once again found himself in familiar surroundings. Now he was here for the right reasons. He would be taking part in a battle against a real threat to the Decepticons and, specifically, to his Seeker comrades. He didn’t have the slightest hesitation to fight for that, even if he still didn’t fully believe what he had heard.

He stepped off of the bounce pad unphased and waited for other Decepticons to begin mobilizing, per Razorclaw’s commands.
___

Bridge

When Razorclaw had ordered the Predacons on the bridge to shift their positions from guarding the outside of his re-established captain’s quarters to resuming their old stations, Rampage had done so without hesitation. Everything within his body tingled and whether it was an after-effect of his ultra-energon infusion or the fact that they had so recently finished an epic battle and were about to be thrown into another he neither knew nor cared. Only the fuellust of combat mattered and the predacon was about to have said lust satiated all over again. He couldn’t wait.

“Death or glory, eh Razorclaw?” Rampage said, the smile behind his faceplate clearly evident in his tone.

__

Onslaught had simply nodded in agreement with Razorclaw’s analysis of the situation they were now faced with. The Fallen had left them with scant few alternatives. And whatever they were, they had no time to dredge them out. Their clearest path, trap or not, was to take the bait that had been offered.

“It will be done,” Onslaught said as he began to match the provided coordinates with their current intelligence regarding terran topography. The information they had gathered thus far would not be as valuable as the intel they could acquire directly on the ground. And in Onslaught’s estimation, this was one of those times when his particular unit possessed the ideal combination of reconnaissance and combat experience necessary to both provide the necessary intelligence as well as to be ready for battle if things did not go precisely as planned.

As loathe as he was for anything to not go according to plan.

For this operation, Onslaught would not only send his team, but he would go himself. Whatever new position he had now attained due to his loyalty to the mech who had now claimed the title of Decepticon Supreme Commander, that was secondary to Onslaught’s core functioning—he was a soldier. It was how he began and it would be how he would end. Any command responsibility he had been given inbetween those times were simply a means of allowing him to more efficiently carry out his soldiering function.

Vortex and Blast-Off would certainly be able to acquire the direct surveillance of the area that Razorclaw desired. He would hold Brawl in reserve along with himself to be ready to assault in the first wave of whatever attack Razorclaw had planned. And Swindle. Yes, good old Swindle. Onslaught had registered the negotiator’s earlier transmission even if circumstances had not allowed him to deal with it in that instant. Now was one of those times when effective strategy called for thinking not only of their next immediate move, but several moves afterward. Of course, if they were going to their slaughter, it would matter not. But if they did manage to survive somehow, be it either in victory or defeat, it would behoove them to have somewhere to retreat to and regroup, even if their only remaining option was to flee into the farthest corners of the galaxy and try to eke out their continued survival on some distant world, it would be Swindle who would best lay the foundation for them carry out that option.

>>”Do it Swindle. Come victory or defeat, I suspect we’ll need the contents of that pod and the work you’re able to do. Just be mindful of the infiltration protocols. Limited contact. Onslaught out.”<<

When Razorclaw had turned his attention from Soundwave to him, Onslaught looked up from his screens, his talent for multitasking still in full effect. Beneath his faceplate, Onslaught was grinning. These last words were not those of a Predacom Commander. They were of a Decepticon Leader. Onslaught could not agree more. They had not come this far to give up all they had attained. But if that was to be their end, Onslaught was prepared to go into the fires to put an end to this threat. Because if they failed, that would be what awaited them, regardless.

“Understood. I’m going to take my team down to gather the intel you require in the limited time we have available. This,” Onslaught said, indicating the screens he had pulled up thus far regarding the earthen terrain, “is proving to be insufficient. We’ll be ready to strike when you arrive with the primary attack force.”

Knowing that there was nothing more of value that he could accomplish on the bridge, Onslaught nodded one last time in Razorclaw’s direction before taking his leave of the area altogether, en route to the bounce chamber, opening a link with his unit. Though Swindle had his own specific orders, he wanted his entire team to be aware of what was going down.

>>”Combaticons, rendezvous on my position in the bounce chamber. The Fallen has called and we will be the first to answer. Prepare for recon…and war. Onslaught out.”<<

Med Bay

"We shall see. I will send him a message."

Shadowing had his doubts but decided not to voice them. Such words would tend to cause more problems than they were worth at moments like these. He opened a communication channel to Razorclaw.

"Commander Razorclaw. With you authorization I would like to begin preperation of Shockwave's laboratory for his use when his repairs are complete. I believe tbe analysis that can be achieved there will be crucial against the enemy we now face."
He spoke in his usual professional tone and with respect. Razorclaw had won his current position through fair combat so he deserved at least that. He hoped he would appreciate thr benefits that could be gained.

He turned back to Flamewar and saw her work then turned back to Shockwave. Distractions at such moments where not useful.

Medical Bay

"Now how about less thinking and more getting ready to do what Razorclaw commands?"

"Less thinking?!" Weirdwolf exclaimed indignantly, "'Frees the mind does independent thought'. Nineteen Eighty-Four."

Weirdwolf stepped into the medical bay, taking in the hangar's worth of mechs within. The very few of the medical drones who weren't attending to one of the injured rushed over at the pair's entry with their cache of injured. Weirdwolf helped to unload the heaps of bodies on Skullcruncher.

"Interesting it will be to see if this Fallen possesses the fortitude to challenge the render of worlds. Trap though clearly set he in his writ of entreaty, seems it that we must answer the call to arms and venture forth into the fields of energon and glory once more. The finale of our great war this may be, should we fall into entropy. Would I snarl in the face of this Fallen god and my fangs let bear; Cry havoc! And let slip the dogs of war."

Weirdwolf glanced down at his friend as he hefted off the last genericon from Skullcruncher's hood. "Feel you not the same?" the lupine tracker asked.

Engine Room

“I have no idea how to fix all this, either,” Blast-Off replied to Blitzwing and Warwolf, “But I’m glad to see that the Fallen has apparently vacated the premises.” The space warrior paused for a moment and approached the first of the destroyed generators. There didn’t appear to be much left to salvage, but the Combaticon flier wasn’t down there to fix anything. He was simply there to secure the area as per his commander’s instructions.

Soon, Scrapper and some of the other Constructicons began to enter the engine room and survey the damage. Clearly, they had been recalled from the surface as their expertise in the area of building and repairs would be more useful in making the Thanatos battle worthy once again. It wasn’t long before Blast-Off and the others were being ushered out of the room to give the Constructicons plenty of space in which to work. Then, Razorclaw’s message, followed by Onslaught’s own communique, reinforced the need for the space warrior to leave and move on as he now had new orders.

“Well, looks like I’m needed elsewhere,” Blast-Off said as he nodded to those ‘Cons still present before heading for the door. As the space warrior exited the engine room, he passed by both Scavenger and Long Haul, who said nothing to him as they headed into the carnage left behind by the Fallen. “Good luck in there, guys! You’re going to need it!”

Long Haul's audio receptors had barely registered what the Combaticon flier had said to him and Scavenger. The heavy lifter simply continued to follow the excavator, ignoring Blast-Off in the process. “Well, Scavs, I’m not really sure what that cone-headed seeker wanted. He seemed to be preoccupied with something important, at least to him, and barely had time to acknowledge my presence. It was really a waste of my time going to the Ultrax.”

The transporter then grew silent as he entered the engine room, his optics widening at the sheer extent of the damage. Scrapmetal and debris littered the floor, which itself was covered with a few inches of energon that had leaked from the four decimated generators. “Holy slag! When this Fallen guys destroys something he really goes all out, doesn’t he?” Long Haul then moved over to the nearest pile of rubble and immediately transformed into his dump truck mode. He knew the drill all too well. Anything that couldn’t be salvaged would need to be carted away and disposed of and that’s what Long Haul was there for. “Okay, fellas, I’m all set! Load me up and I’ll get rid of all this scrap proper! Heh.”

Bounce Chamber

It took less than a breem for Blast-Off to arrive down in the bounce chamber per his newest set of orders. He was the first one there from his unit. Of course, he was. The space warrior was the best at whatever he did even arriving to a rendezvous point ahead of schedule. No one would give him the credit that he deserved, but he was used to that by now. Besides, it was more fun to remind everyone of his greatness every now and again.

Once inside the chamber, the space warrior stopped and opened a channel to the Combaticon leader:

>>”Commander Onslaught, this is Blast-Off. I’ve just arrived in the bounce chamber. I’m fully fueled, armed and ready for deployment!”<<

Blast-Off then cut his comm line and walked over to the bounce pad, noticing a familiar blue seeker standing nearby. “Thundercracker, fancy meeting you here. What happened to you earlier in the hangar? I take it that fighting other ‘Cons didn’t particularly interest you, huh? I can’t say that I blame you. At least, it’s all been decided now and we can get to fighting a real enemy even if it is a mythical demigod.”

Medical Bay

It was weird. The last thing he remembered was watching that completely awesome fight between Shockwave….that was Shockwave right? The guy with the one big yellow optic in the middle of his….yeah Shockwave. So he was in the hangar watching the fight…optic-guy and lion-guy…and then he was slung over the shoulder of some femme he didn’t recognize.

Okay that was really unfair. Truthfully, Hindsight had no idea who just about anyone was. He spent, what felt like every waking hour stuck in some room. That fight was his excuse to leave it. Yeah, and look where it got him.

Hindsight let out a low huff.

But his attention quickly returned to the strange black and red femme who still had him over her shoulder.

"You're in the medical bay," Flamewar said by way of answer.

The wounded ‘Con said nothing. Of course he was in the medical bay. He was wounded, right? Yeah, he was wounded.

"You were injured in the skirmish in the hangar. You are lucky to have survived with as few injuries as you did.”

Bingo.

Hindsight took a moment and scanned the room. At least he wasn’t the only one in here. But hang on, who won?

“What is your name?" Flamewar asked softly.

Hindsight returned his attention to Flamewar. He slowly opened his mouth and was already forming the words when she suddenly excused herself. He lifted up slightly and watched her move to a CR chamber and Shockwave.

So the other one won. Heh. He watched with some interest as Flamewar and another mech…maybe Shadowing…wasn’t he the one who followed the one-eyed guy around? Eh, who cares really. His focus remained on the group of ‘Cons when he felt some kind of sharp pain.

“OW!” Hindsight cried out. He followed it up with a solid push-kick to the drone’s head. “Worthless piece of slag! Watch what you’re doing!” The scowl that had formed on his face remained even after a new drone stepped in to continue his repairs.

His repairs were underway when Hindsight removed his killer gaze from the drone and looked around the room. Mechs were all over the place, and many of them were not even injured. “The frag is going on around here?” he muttered.

After another glance around his optics finally settled back on Flamewar across the room. “Hey! What’s going on? First I’m in the hangar then I’m being dragged in here...apparently injured during that brawl. Now everyone’s acting like they’ve seen some kind of ghost!”

Corridors

Another smug smile worked onto Starscream’s face as he listened and carefully observed Sixshot. Letting his guard down now would be most unwise. His plans would not come to fruition if he wound up a molten pile of slag.

The Seeker reared back slightly placing his hand over his chestplate in mock surprise. “Sixshot," he gasped. "I believe you misinterpret what is occurring here.” He lowered his hand and took a small step toward the towering killer. “And as for the use of the private comm line…let’s just say Soundwave has a way of twisting…well everything.”

Starscream considered the one mech army’s first query. “I’m afraid Lord Megatron has well; let’s just say he hasn’t made an appearance in some time.” The smug smile that had been on his face vanished completely and was replaced by a cold emotionless glare. “As for who called you here....” He cocked his head slightly and paused.

>>”Your presence was requested some time ago, but you seemed to take your sweet time getting here.”<< A broad devilish smile formed. Starscream anchored his stance. Looking weak now would just cause problems in the future, and he was the one with all the power.

Starscream shook his head and then stared up into the Phase Sixer’s optics. >>”You’re here to serve me, Sixshot. Why else would I have called you here?”<<

“Now, how about we talk? I can let you know what’s been happening since Megatron’s untimely departure.” Starsream let out a chuckle while he turned around and began to lead the living weapon somewhere where they could talk. Of course with his back now turned to Sixshot he was anticipating some attempt to end his life. Wouldn’t he be surprised.

Medical Bay

Letting her thoughts wander, the black operative pondered her current situation. Her former authority had come from Megatron...but with him gone...She would need to find a way to assert herself once again. But...how to go about that...Her thoughts drifted again and made their way to Warwolf, her former student in the art of interrogations.

Though she had not noticed any extraordinarily peculiar behavior from him, he was acting rather...stiff and formal. That suited Flamewar just fine, but it did leave her to wonder about his condition. She would have words with him once this Fallen business was taken care of and her affairs set into order. Fortunately, she had a few ideas for just how to do that.

The crimson and black femme was soon pulled from her reverie when some shouting was directed in her general direction. Looking up to see the cause of the commotion, Flamewar was a little surprised to find that her little patient had regained more of his functions, and annoyed because the first thing he did was demand answers from her. The black and crimson femme moved in closer to Hindsight before answering him.

"That would be because the Fallen has issued us a challenge. He destroyed our engines and gave us coordinates to a Terran locale," Flamewar stated flatly.

Folding her arms over her chest plate, Flamewar glanced around the medical bay, her optics settling on Shockwave before returning to Hindsight. Perhaps this little mechanoid could be of some assistance to her...if he did not get scrapped in the coming battle. She allowed her expression to soften as she reached over and clasped Hindsight on the shoulder.

"Not to worry," Flamewar said reassuringly, "We shall not fall prey to this Fallen prime." She slid her actuator down Hindsight's arm, keeping her optics locking onto Hindsight's. "Now, then," she added with a smile, "Can I get your name and function?"