The Energon Pub

Corridors

Sixshot glared down at the smug and pompous Seeker Commander, wanting nothing more than to blast that smirk right off of his faceplate. The sixchanger reframed from doing so for the moment as Starscream warned him of Soundwave’s ability to twist things around. Of course, the cowardly seeker would know all about twisting the truth since he had done so on many past occasions. At least, that’s what his reputation and previous transgressions had always suggested.

Starscream then proceeded to reveal that Megatron had not been seen for quite some time. It was not exactly a confirmation of the slagmaker’s demise, but it did confirm that he was missing, likely due to some scheme the red and white seeker had come up with. It did not matter. The only mech capable of stopping Sixshot was now out of the picture and that opened up all kinds of possibilities for the Phase Sixer now. Leadership was not one of them, of course, but freedom to do what he wanted allowed for so many options it made the sixchanger almost giggy with excitement.

Starscream’s next revelation sparked a furious fire behind Sixshot’s blood red optics. Did he just hear him correctly? No, there must have been a glitch in the Phase Sixer’s audios. Surely, a coward such as Starscream could not possibly be this presumptuous. The Seeker Commander actually thought that he could control the sixchanger the way Megatron had once done. If the gutless flier only knew the truth of the matter, he would not make such bold and arrogant statements.

“Yes....let’s talk, Starscream,” Sixshot replied stoically as the red and white mech turned his back on the towering Decepticon. Not a wise idea by any means. The Phase Sixer approached from behind and quickly grabbed a hold of Starscream by his shoulders, spinning him back around and lifting him up with only one arm. As Sixshot’s right hand held firmly on to the Seeker Commander’s collar plating, the sixchanger brought up one of his hypersonic concussion blasters with his left, placing the barrel of the weapon directly underneath Starscream’s chin guard. “Let’s first make one thing perfectly clear my delusional seeker. I had but one master and that was Lord Megatron! You are NOT him! You will NEVER be him! Now that the slagmaker is gone I will do what I please when I please and for whom I please. I am NOT your servant, Starscream! Not now, not ever and you’ll do well to remember that!”

Sixshot took a deep intake of air as he calmed his seething circuits down, tilting his cranial unit from one side to the other as if he was admiring his new rag doll that was the dangling Seeker Commander. “So, tell me, Starscream, why should I not blow your cranium off right now for wasting my time and energon? While I do appreciate the info on Megatron, I do NOT appreciate being summoned thousands of light years by a cowardly thug like yourself, who actually thought you could boss me around! You have, um, about five astroseconds to give me a really good answer or you’ll, well, you know, cease to function....forever!”

Engine Room

Thankfully the extraneous Decepticons who had been milling around the engine room for whatever reason, either to secure it or for some other reason, were taking the orders to clear out fairly smoothly. Scrapper had little doubt that Razorclaw's present set of commands also had something to do with that. These were Decepticons after all. The vast majority of them would rather fight than stand around and repair equipment, even if that fight was against something that could barely even be considered another Cybertronian but instead something out of myth and legend. Scrapper, admittedly, would not have minded his team having the opportunity to use their own gears in battle but jobs like this would always be their primary function in the empire, just as they always had been. They were allowed to fight when there was nothing pressing to fix.

"He might," Scrapper said, reflecting on Bonecrusher's concerns about the Fallen. "Regardless, we do our jobs. If the Decepticons succeed, the commanders will want to return to a functional ship. If they don't, well, we're going to want to have a functional ship so that we can leave this cursed star system. Otherwise, we'll be joining them in the Allspark soon after."

Scrapper smirked underneath his faceplate at Bonecrusher's last comment as he turned to face Scavenger.

"Anything that the Fallen has blasted open, do your best to get the damages resealed. Patch jobs for now. We can do our finer work later. And we need to get this floor drained," Scrapper said, pulling one leg up from the steady flood of liquids that were gathering underfoot.

He then turned back to continue work on the first damaged generator that he had encountered when arriving here.

Hallways

Bitstream replaced the blown fuses in another terminal. The fuel lines reconnected, power once again being redistributed throughout the ship. A few more fixes in the broken lines, and the ship could move off emergency power.

He was avoiding doing his duty. He busied himself with machines, because that he understood. That he enjoyed.

Reporting to Starscream and enduring the sight of his commander's face -Bitstream's own permanent reminder of his enslavement- was the last thing he ever wanted to do. Given how long he'd been autonomous from his commander, Bitstream hoped Starscream had perished on Earth or forgotten the information engineer ever existed. Either would be fine.

But now, inevitably, their paths would cross. And he'd be right back under Starscream's heel, where he didn't want to be.

Bitstream found a burn on the wire casing and set to mending it. It helped immensely in taking his mind off the inevitable meeting that lay ahead.

But there was only so much to fix, and only so long before Starscream found out he'd arrived. Starscream had a way of knowing things.

He mused on what he could do in the meantime... how long he could prolong his departure. Now that his internal clock had corrected itself and his system continued to warn him about depleted energon, he thought perhaps he could enter stasis lock for a while and escape from the inevitable.

He was gradually moving back towards the med-bay, halfway between trying to find the joy in fixing the ship and wanting to power down and disappear.

And the battle Razorclaw clamored for... that could be the end he wished for.

Or it could be Starscream's end.

If, perhaps, the Air Commander could be permanently silenced... that would be something for Bitstream to live for.

-

Med Bay

Misfire stood just outside in the hall, as Vehicons passed by transporting the wounded. He was trying to decide what to say, how to report to Flamewar. He wasn't sure what it took to get in her good graces, if that was even still possible.

He had done as commanded, working with Warwolf. But he'd also abandoned her right when she was gathering her loyalists. Any hope of being on the right side had already evaporated with Razorclaw's victory.

Would she want him to join in the battle against the Fallen? Or would she ask for demonstrations of loyalty; proof of his worth through some other means?

He was edging slowly, until he was finally inside. He was passing by a few CR chambers, still (hopefully) out of Flamewar's sight.

He went over how to phrase his report. Was it even necessary to report? Warwolf already did that. Maybe she wanted his perspective? No, she hadn't asked for that. She hadn't really given him any direct commands since he'd left her side. Maybe he'd already been dropped to a lower rank than her immediate subordinate? What did it all mean?! She was a tough femmebot to read.

Misfire passed by the various fallen fighters of the scuffle, looking at them floating in the tanks. Maybe... maybe what he needed was not to suck up to the upper command structure, but focus on the lower ranks. Form a common bond with the other frontline troopers; that, Misfire was good at. He may have been a lousy shot, but he was a fun bot to be around.

He needed to improve his standing, and it didn't seem like any of the bossbots were interested. So he'd find support from the bottom.

He knocked on the tank of a young Seeker missing a good chunk of his skull casing.

"Hey, kid, saw the fight with Tantrum! You know, the one where you got your chassis handed to ya?"

That probably wasn't the best way to start a conversation.

"Gotta' say, you've got bearings!" Misfire hastily added.

The Seeker within moved his left arm towards the glass. Trying to communicate?

Misfire drew closer, until he saw a battle blade pop out of the Seeker's wrist, scratching the glass a few centimeters from Misfire's optic.

Misfire drew back. Okay, one attempt down... move on to the next injured guy and show some sympathy.

Medbay

Battletrap continued to observe things and was so lost on what he was watching he almost didn't notice Commander Shockwave fall out of his first chamber. The action made the duocon jump just a little. Then he heard the message from the Fallen which unnerved him even more. Commander Shadowing was still as calm as ever even in this time. After all of this, the new supreme commander Razorclaw announced the upcoming battle against this Fallen.

"Commander Shawdowing, who will be our immediate commander? Commander Shockwave is still not well. What are your commands? Will the lab really help us? Do we wait for Commander Shockwave or follow Supreme Leader Razorclaw?"

Bounce Chamber

Thundercracker wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when he stepped back on to the Thanatos. Given what he had heard from Razorclaw’s transmission, mobilizing Decepticons were a strong possibility. The presence of a Combaticon did not disappoint in that regard, and others were already beginning to appear.

The blue and black Seeker wasn’t sure how conspicuous his premature departure from the hangar melee would turn out to be, but Blast-Off’s first question gave him an idea that he hadn’t slipped away as quietly as he might have wanted. Granted, Blast-Off was in the Secret Service ranks. It would be in his nature to notice such things. Truth be told though, Thundercracker didn’t really care who knew. He had his reasons for why he did what he did. The only mechs that might be able to squeeze some kind of repressed guilt out of him would be Starscream and Skywarp. Even then it wouldn’t be much.

“Not in the slightest. Not for something so basic as a contest for leadership. Strongest leads. That simple. It shoulda just been one on one. I can’t believe it turned into the mess it did,” Thundercracker grunted. One thing he knew for sure the next time that happened Thundercracker was going to find some more likeminded Decepticons and they would force whoever wanted to take the throne to fight for it by themselves.

That was a thought for another cycle though. Like Blast-off said, the matter was resolved for now. Thundercracker knew what value he brought to the Decepticon empire and, specifically, to the Seeker ranks. It didn’t matter who was in charge: the Seekers would never be cast aside like some sort of little trashy Vehicon slave. Now he was able to focus on a common threat, just like the rest of the Decepticons here could do.

“Yeah, I don’t care what it is. As long as it doesn’t have a Decepticon symbol, it’s fair game,” Thundercracker said, checking his energy levels. Save for some minor expenditures that he hadn’t fully topped off, he was primed and ready to go. Weapon systems were good. Flight systems were good.

Bring it.
___

Corridors

Onslaught knew that he would not be going into this battle in prime condition, but he had not sustained any critical injuries during the battle for leadership. He could walk. He could shoot. And he could think. The rest would sort itself out.

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

>>“Copy that, Blast-Off. I’m almost on your position now. Brawl and Vortex won’t be far behind me. Prepare to deploy.”<<

Onslaught was more than ready for a threat like this. Even if he wouldn’t be able to properly prepare an offensive strategy against a foe of this kind until he was on the field and could directly see what he was dealing with—this was far preferable to fighting one’s own comrades in arms, however delusional about their leadership capabilities they might be. In this situation there would be no holding back or trying to minimize casualties or damages. They would be able to let loose with everything they had. Just as they did with the Autobots.

The Autobots…

They would likely prove to be another glitch on the battlefield. Whatever arrangement they had forged under the fires of necessity, the two sides had been conditioned to destroy one another for so long that Onslaught couldn’t help but wonder which side would be the first to crack and seize some sort of perceived opportunity to take out their longtime foes. He held no illusions regarding the likelihood that it would be one of the Decepticons’ own subordinates that would cave in to the temptation…but…there were certainly Autobots whose bloodthirst could rival or surpass that of many a Decepticon. Onslaught, for his part, knew that he would carry out the strategy as it had been formed thus far. He also knew that he was going to have to account for unexpected variables far more than he had at any other time in recent memory—loathe as he was to admit it.

As the doors to the bounce chamber slid out of his way, Onslaught made his way directly towards the bounce chamber controls.

“Stand aside, Seeker,” the Combaticon Commander said dismissively as he transferred the information regarding the Fallen’s coordinates from his console on the bridge to the station here. Inputting them directly, he then motioned for a Vehicon to take his place at the chamber console as he stepped onto the bounce pad and motioned for Blast-Off to join him.

“Be ready for anything,” Onslaught said as he produced his rifle. He then looked to the Vehicon. “Initiate bounce.”

Bounce Chamber

Blast-Off only half-listened to what Thundercracker was saying. The blue seeker didn’t seem to like the fact that the fight had not been a one-on-one contest. The space warrior couldn’t help but agree that the battle for leadership had not exactly been fair. However, his side ultimately won so Blast-Off didn’t really care. Razorclaw was a much better option in his opinion than Shockwave, Thunderwing or Starscream. Of course, Thundercracker probably wouldn’t be happy with anyone other than ol’ Screamer even if he wouldn’t openly admit it.

The blue seeker’s last comment, however, elicited an approving nod from Blast-Off just before a transmission from Onslaught came across the space warrior’s comm line. Moments later, the Combaticon Commander, himself, was in the bounce chamber and had entered their destination into the control panel. Once his leader was positioned on the pad, Blast-Off joined him and his comrades as the order was finally given to initiate the bounce beam.

((OOC: Will post for Razorclaw soon.))

Armory

After his run in with Warwolf, Misfire, and the Constructicons down in the engine deck of the mighty battlecruiser, Blitzwing wasted no time making his way to the armory to gear up for the Decepticon's encounter with the Fallen.

"I wonder if Octane and Astrotrain heard Razorclaw's orders..." Blitzwing thought as he loaded a fresh clip into the casing of his blaster rifle. The commando then set his weapon on one of the counter-tops within the weapon storage room and opened his private comm line between he and his fellow triplechangers.

>>"Astrotrain, Octane; Scrap is about to hit the fan...Razorclaw just ordered all the Decepticons back to the Thanatos, sounds like we're prepping to take the fight straight to the Fallen himself! So drop whatever the hell it is Ramjet's got you doing and get your afts up here! Blitzwing out."<<

Blitzwing closed his comms and reached for a stack of bundled heat-seeking missiles he arms his jet mode with. He loaded the missiles onto his chassis then picked up his rifle again and placed it on his back, magna-locking the weapon into place as he turned and made a bee-line for the bounce chamber, hopefully to catch his fellow triplechangers as they made their way aboard by the time he got there.

Bridge

Soundwave continued to monitor communications and what was left of the sensors as he listened into the activity occurring around him on the bridge. He had long ago mastered the art of multi-tasking. Of course on a crippled ship there were only so many systems that required any sort of real monitoring.

It seemed that Razorclaw was going to attempt to deal with this latest thread head on. Whether he felt confident in this action or if it was just a show of strength to reassure other Decepticons that he was still firmly in command and control of the Decepticons. Of course now the Predacon faced twin challenges that made even the obstacles he had recently overcome seem like little but minor nuisances. While the Predacon’s speech and bold actions might inspire some faith in other, lesser Decepticons, they had little effect on Soundwave. He did, however, feel doubt that Razorclaw would succeed in leading them through this current crisis. The Decepticons would prevail, of course, but under whose ultimate actions and leadership was the question.

Sixshot’s arrival was an unexpected variable and challenge for the new leader. Internal sensors were registering him in a corridor with Starscream, which answered some questions and brought up more troubling ones. It was apparent now that Starscream had somehow summoned the Phase Sixer to Earth, having somehow obtained the proper communication codes to do so. Starscream always seemed to have a way of knowing things. He would have to make an effort to lock down those particular communication codes more effectively in the future. Fortunately it did appear that Starscream had only contacted Sixshot and not any of the other Phase Sixers. As volatile as Sixshot might be he was still relatively tame compared to the likes of Overlord.

The question of how Sixshot would react to the current situation remained, now complicated by whatever information Starscream was giving him. He was able to monitor bits of their spoken words but Starscream was apparently using a private communication channel for part of the conversation. With his proximity to Sixshot he could make the signal very weak and direct, making tapping into it virtually impossible at this range. Dispatching Ravage or Laserbeak was a possibility but he was reluctant to put them at risk against the likes of Sixshot. Whatever was going on there would have to be a problem for Razorclaw or his soldiers directly.

The Fallen was currently a much more direct and open thread. While it was possible that Sixshot could be delayed or persuaded away from a violent action against Razorclaw or the other Decepticons the Fallen had already thrown down the gauntlet. He could tell the damage to the vessel wasn’t fatal but it was severe. The ship was crippled and would be incapable of applying any direct firepower support to whatever engagement the Fallen had planned for them. With the sabotage done to their vessels, his ability to brainwash followers and infuse them with power and instantaneous form of transportation this being was not one to be trifled with.

The Decepticons would prevail over this opponent, of that he had no doubt. Under Razorclaw’s leadership however, he was concerned about the damage the Decepticons would take in the process. With Megatron’s presence they would likely have Sixshot to through at the ‘mythical’ being, let alone the slagmaker’s own impressive might.

Soundwave moved to obey the Predacon’s orders even as he continued to mull over the current plight of the Decepticons in the Sol System.

>>”Autobot vessel, we will be moving to the planet below to meet the Fallen’s challenge in approximately three breems. You may meet us there if you wish. Further discussions will take place on the planet.”<<

The Decepticon turned to face Razorclaw. “Message sent.”

*

Swindle nodded to himself as he got the orders from Onslaught. It was good to hear that he was being reasonable here. Swindle wasn’t a coward, despite what everyone might think, but the Cons weren’t exactly fighting at optimal levels here. It felt like half of them were down in the repair bay, mostly the heaviest hitters, and the rest of them were up on the bridge put there faith in a Predacon. This was the group that would be going up against the powerful and magically teleporting wherever Fallen. It didn’t take a genius to see the need for a solid back up plan.

Honestly he was rather looking forward to this plan. He hadn’t gotten to do any good trading or bartering in a long time, and this planet was just begging for the Swindle touch. So many different factions down there vying for power over the other ones, not to mention the low technology levels all around, it was a perfect mark. He could probably get all the fuel he could ever need just by selling veritable junk to some of the minor city-states.

His thoughts were interrupted by Onslaught’s call for them to all head to the bounce chamber. He frowned as he left the bridge, not quite certain on what he was supposed to do now. Perhaps this was just a cover for his real mission? Better check in and make sure, as annoying as that was. The arms dealer didn’t always do well in the strict hierarchy of the Decepticons, something his teammates would be quick to tell anyone about. As long as he came through with the goods though, he was always at least tolerated.

>>”Onslaught, you want me down there fighting with the rest of you guys or off doing my own thing? I could use the orbital bounce and head elsewhere and start plying my craft among the natives to get our little back up plan rolling.”<<

*

Engine Room

Hook had taken a bit longer then the others to reach their work area. He was taking the time to marvel at the feel of finally being on a real Decepticon vessel again. Between being underwater and having to deal with the Stunticon’s miserable excuse for a ship he had almost forgotten what it was like to be on a real functioning vessel. Well, a formally functioning vessel.

The surgical engineer shook his head as he looked around the bridge. “Such a pity to see such a fine machine wrecked like this.” He moved over to one of the damaged generators, punching in commands to power down what was left of it before he got to work. Slowly the fluids stopped spilling out of it and the sparks and smoke stopped puffing out of the various damaged surfaces. As he began sealing off the remaining leaks he made a cursory evaluation both with his optics and sensors.

“This generator appears to be salvageable Scrapper. I would like to replace a few parts to increase efficiency,” he looked over at the Constructicon commander “but I assume current time restrictions dictate I merely patch it up to bring it back to functioning status.”

Med Bay

"Commander? More like glorified helper mech." Thought Shadowing as he waited for an answer from Razorclaw.

"I sent a communication to Razorclaw. For now we continue to guard Shockwave until I hear a reply." Shadowing said plainly to Battletrap.

Medical Bay

After his slight outburst demanding some answers Hindsight watched as Flamewar, the femme who carried him into the med bay, make her way to the slab he was on. He scooted back slightly.

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

He waited a moment, trying to process that bit of information. The Fallen, yeah right. Hindsight smirked slightly but it quickly vanished when he realized her explanation was given in a serious tone…must be true.

“Fallen. The Fallen.” Hindsight mumbled as his hand settled on his forehead. “I’ve got such a cranial ache and this isn’t making any better.”

The ‘Con rubbed his head gently before he looked back up at Flamewar. His optics followed her own as she glanced back at Shockwave who was now out of his CR chamber.

Hindsight refocused returned to the femme when he felt her hand claps his shoulder. It was a surprise but not unwelcome.

His eyes moved from her hand, up her chestplates and settled on her now soft features. Much more welcome than her flat stare. Hindsight relaxed into her touch. He could get to like this.

"Not to worry," Flamewar said reassuringly, "We shall not fall prey to this Fallen prime."

With an enthralled expression etched on his visage Hindsight nodded in understanding. “Yeah. He won’t know what hit him,” he said unconsciously.

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?"

Okay, that was it.

His optics quickly zeroed in on her hand before returning to Flamewar’s face. Wait, didn’t she ask him something? Name? His name? Or did he want him to say hers? Gladly.

“Uhhh…name. Yeah, name. My name’s Hindsight,” he said flashing a goofy smile. “I’m…ah, I work in surveillance. Mostly video, but I can do communications as well.” His smile slowly melted as he cocked his head slightly to the side. “Why do you want to know my function anyway?”

Corridors

Although he turned his back on the notorious Phase Sixer Starscream had little to fear. He already knew what the S.T.A.G. would attempt and he was ready for it. So when he felt the towering mech grab him by his shoulders Starscream did not resist.

Not even when he was forcefully spun around to face Sixshot did the Seeker Commander reveal any surprise.

With his feet now lifted high off the ground, and his person being handled at the collar plating Starscream simply smirked. And when the angered mech placed his weapon’s barrel beneath his chin Starsceam’s smirk grew ever wider.

“Let’s first make one thing perfectly clear my delusional seeker. I had but one master and that was Lord Megatron! You are NOT him! You will NEVER be him!"

Starscream chuckled. “You are right in that respect my dear Sixshot. You HAD one master and I am NOT Megatron…I am Starscream! I AM what Megatron never could be!”

"I am NOT your servant, Starscream! Not now, not ever and you’ll do well to remember that!"

The Seeker Commander lifted his hand and pointed at the Phase Sixer. “At that you are wrong, Sixshot. You are my servent. And you WILL do as I say.”

“So, tell me, Starscream, why should I not blow your cranium off right now for wasting my time and energon? While I do appreciate the info on Megatron, I do NOT appreciate being summoned thousands of light years by a cowardly thug like yourself, who actually thought you could boss me around! You have, um, about five astroseconds to give me a really good answer or you’ll, well, you know, cease to function....forever!"

For a moment Starscream considered what Sixshot had finally said. Now was as good as any to play his hand.

“I actually have a very good answer for you.” Another sly smirk worked onto his face plate as he looked deep into Sixshot’s blood red optics and spoke, “Reset: Pi-Orion-Actual-Orbit. Enable.”

((OOC: I'll add something for Orbitoclast soon-ish))

Medbay

"I understand, Commander Shadowing. Commander Shockwave didn't look 100% when he fell out of the first CR Chamber. It would be good to see him back to normal. He should lead us. Logic should outweigh animal instinct. Predacons are good hunters. Hunting isn't always leading."

Battletrap walked over to the new CR Chamber Shockwave was in and reposition himself.

"Flywheel, we have a new pod to guard. We will wait until Commander Shadowing tells us what to do."

Medical Bay

“Uhhh…name. Yeah, name. My name’s Hindsight," he said flashing a goofy smile. “I’m…ah, I work in surveillance. Mostly video, but I can do communications as well." His smile slowly melted as he cocked his head slightly to the side. “Why do you want to know my function anyway?"

Ah, yes. There is was. The ridiculously silly smile had found its way onto the little genericon's face. Flamewar hadn't been entirely sure if this particular Decepticon would fall into her thrall. She had previously no chance to read the files of those stationed aboard the Thanatos. Surveillance...very useful. She was fortunate to have stumbled across this Hindsight. No one could match Soundwave for his sheer command of the vast majority of communications aboard any vessel that he was stationed on...but she did not need to match it or even come close.

Flamewar smiled at Hindsight even as the mech's smile began to melt away from his faceplate. Judging by his reactions to her attentions...a little ego stroking would retain her sway over him, but first, to brush off his initial query. "Oh, just curious. About you, Hindsight. You really work in surveillance? How fascinating...I bet you see a lot of strange things from time to time. Would you mind sharing any of your more notable findings? As a favor to me. I would really appreciate it," she added in a warm, friendly tone, giving Hindsight's arm a pat from where he actuator rested on it.

Not waiting to let Hindsight answer her, Flamewar removed her hand from his arm and allowed the color of disappointment to grace her features. "Oh...but...it'll have to wait until this Fallen business is over," she continued, a reassuring smile now forming on her faceplate once more, "Stay near me in the fighting, alright? I want to be sure nothing ill happens to you, Hindsight. I have to go now. I'll see you again soon, though I'm certain."

Letting her optics linger on Hindsight, Flamewar turned around, considering now what else needed to be done before she left to face the Fallen on Earth. She had noticed that reject Misfire scurry into the room. What real use he posed, Flamewar was certain it was slight, but perhaps enough to corral him into her cadre. For now. Rather than address him directly, Flamewar opened up a short-range comm link to the gunner.

>>"Misfire, this is Flamewar. Meet me at the Bounce Chamber for deployment. I'll be along shortly."<<

That done, the black operative walked briskly out of the medical bay, giving Shadowing a brief nod of acknowledgement before departing. Only one thing left to attend to now.

Warwolf's Hab Suite

Flamewar found her pupil's quarters with relative ease. As the door slid open with a hiss, the interrogator's teacher swept her optics across the suite critically. One thing that particularly caught her optic was a mark in the wall. Fresh. New. The edges still had the roughness time had yet to wear away. What that meant...the crimson and black femme's optics flicked over to Warwolf who lay prone on his slab.

"Warwolf," Flamewar said quietly, more to alert the lupine mech to her presence if her entrance had indeed gone unnoticed. Stepping across the threshold, the black operative approached her student. "It's time to go." For a moment, Flamewar relaxed a fraction now in the presence of one who knew her to some degree. She looked at Warwolf knowingly, suspicions given support by the evidence surrounding her. The timing was...unfortunate to say the least. Very unfortunate.

Med Bay

>>"Misfire, this is Flamewar. Meet me at the Bounce Chamber for deployment. I'll be along shortly."<<

Misfire nearly jumped upon hearing the call over his commlink. He bumped into one of the CR chambers and glanced frantically around the med bay, watching Flamewar deftly exit. She'd pulled the same trick on him he had on her. While his actions may have confused or frustrated Flamewar, her actions left Misfire in a state of abject terror. She wasn't mercurial or easily distracted. Her actions sent a message.

She hadn't bothered to talk to him in person; he was beneath her notice. She had been direct, and however cruel her tone, this was an opportunity.

A mercy.

"R-right away!" Misfire promised, scrambling to follow Flamewar's command, dashing out into the hallway.

Running towards deployment against the Fallen. Running to face a monster from legend rather than dare fail Flamewar any further.

That femme could really motivate.

-

Bitstream finally reached the Med-Bay and found it a little emptier than he'd left it. Units were scrambling to the Bounce Chamber to join the battle. Many more were left behind following the Decepticons' prolonged battle for leadership.

And at last, abiding by his system's warnings, Bitstream refueled. He was stunned to find energon -real energon, not some artificial brew- available to him to recharge, and his systems no longer shouted warnings at him.

Bitstream mused on what course of action he would take now. He could join the battle, but wasn't sure who else knew he'd arrived. Certainly he was beneath Razorclaw's notice. But several of the crew had seen him already. He may not have been a combatant, but the proclamation hadn't specified one way or the other.

He could die if he went into battle. He wasn't exactly looking for that fate, but the harsh reminder of the life he lived weighed on his spark. He was a very capable engineer; the best among the Seekers. Repairing the ship was where he belonged.

But the longer he lingered, the sooner Starscream would know he was here... and once more Bitstream would chafe under his command, wrapped up in the latest machinations.

What Starscream would do, under this new command... that was paramount to learn. That Bitstream needed to know.

If his commander were to die... well, that'd be something Bitstream could live for. Command of the Seekers would fall to someone more reasonable, like Thundercracker. And pitting Starscream against a deity was the next best thing to making the Air Commander go one on one with Megatron himself.

Bitstream glanced at the CR tanks near the recharging slabs. Their reflective surfaces shined his image back at him. Shined the mask he wore in his optics.

Bitstream turned his arc welder and burnt the surface, leaving a black scar along the casing, over the face he'd been forced to wear. Over the face he hated.

And resolved that he'd see that same face, lying on the ground of the foreign planet beneath him, and then wear it no more.

Thanatos - Medical bay

The hulking bodyguard watched from a short distance away from Shockwave as he sequestered himself off to a side bench to work on his repairs. The next to move was Flamewar she headed out of the medical bay he swung his head around his optics falling on Misfire who was conspiring to run to the bounce chamber. This elicited a chuckle from his vocal processor, something that didn’t however was as his optics settled on a seeker who seemed to be defacing a CR chamber with an Arc Welder.

Crueljaw made his way over to the seeker carefully moving through the massed amount of casualties. Placing a hand on the smaller mechs shoulder he started to speak “You alright? Whats the matter nerves” Crueljaw wasn’t overly concerned but if this seeker was someone he was going to rely on in combat he needed to know his state of mind.

“Come on if your fully functional, I’m heading for the Bounce chamber”

As Crueljaw started to move the considerably larger mech turned back and looked at the seeker who had been defacing the CR chamber.

"What was your name?"

Med Bay

Commander... Shadowing? What? How? Huh? Somebody please explain.

Commander Shadowing? What have we missed, brother?

“A lot, evidently,” Flywheels replied to Scarab, keeping his tone low. “Not to worry, though. I'm sure this fellow knows what he's doing.”

So much for carrying out Razorclaw's orders and engaging the Fallen and his heralds in combat – which, by the way, sounded like a suicide mission in disguise. Not that Flywheels was bothered, when he thought about it. He loved a good battle, but would forfeit that battle if it meant his functioning remained where it should be: here and not in the Great Junkyard.

The Fallen, for Primus's sake. One does not simply fight the Fallen.

Flywheels smiled at Battletrap. “Sure thing, sure thing.”

Internally, he sighed. And cursed. And sighed again. And cursed again.

Just how long was he going to be stuck in the med bay for? Holy Cybertron, he felt as though he were trapped in an over-sized coffin, with no avenue of escape and termination slowly approaching him. Honestly, if this kept up, he would die in here. Simply rust to pieces and that would be that.

Flywheels folded his arms across his chest-plate, and waited for Shadowing to give them further instructions, perhaps some containing a little excitement. Whatever they might be, they had to be better than standing on the spot looking like a fool. Had to be.

Med-Bay

Landgrab knew that once he heard the call from Razorclaw, that was surely what Shockwave would want him to do next--particularly since Shockwave had not directed an iota of attention in his direction. He supposed that was just as well. It basically he meant he was not doing anything so far which required an adjustment on the part of the Military Operations Commander.

To the bounce chamber, then.
___

Breakdown looked up and around, wondering for a second if he was hearing Razorclaw's voice inside his head before realizing that it was the ship's communications systems. Oh slag yes. Battle time again!

Breakdown looked over at Dead End. Loathe as he was to leave the vicinity of the attractive femme who was working diligently--in her own obviously special way--on his Stunticon partner, he knew that disobeying orders from the mech that Motormaster had ultimately supported for leadership would not bode well for his ongoing functioning. Dead End might get a pass, but only because he looked like raw slag on a stick.

"Alright, well, uh, catch ya later Deaders. Got a god to kill," Breakdown said before walking off in the direction of the bounce chamber.

He'd certainly never been able to say that before.

Med-Bay

"What's the matter? Nerves?"

Bitstream turned slowly to acknowledge the speaker. He sneered at the hand on his shoulder, but did not remove it.

“Come on if your fully functional, I’m heading for the Bounce chamber”

An invitation to battle from this Crueljaw. He seemed friendly enough. He wasn't sticking his battle blade in anyone's back yet, at least.

It was important to remember that not all Decepticons were as two-faced as Starscream. It seemed the only really treacherous and despicable ones were in the upper command structure, not the middle ranks.

So he could indulge this inquiry.

"What was your name?"

"Bitsream," he answered simply, subtly shrugging his shoulder to move Crueljaw's hand. "I'm an information engineer for the Seeker squadron.

"I'm sorry I can't stay and chat, but I have to report to Starscream," Bitstream told his comrade. "I'll find you after the battle, friend."

It was a necessary lie. There was no need to squash his comrade's spirit, or to shun his overtures of friendship.

He just had to focus on Starscream, and making sure his master was in the thick of battle against the Fallen. Starscream had to be where he didn't want to be, if only for the sake of appearances.

And that was an opportunity to see his head roll Bitstream would not miss.

Warwolf's Hab Suite

His optics remained closed behind that single-slit visor oh his when Flamewar made her presence known to the interrogator as she quietly entered the room. Still deep in meditation cycle, the wolf-former raised himself up to sit up properly on his slab.

"Flamewar." Warwolf halfheartedly welcomed his former teacher while letting out a deep breath. "Welcome to my humble abode! Mi Casa de Warwolf, if you will."

His humor didn't seem to phase her, and she coldly replied by letting him know that they ought to get going to take care of this Fallen business.

Warwolf sighed as he rose from his seat and approached the female mentor of his.

"Before we go, I need to tell you something..." Warwolf began as he stopped half way behind his recharge slab and the doorway where his mentor was standing. "I can tell you can see through my humor and that something's up with me. I'm guessing you can already tell that that mark on the wall over there was just a recent addition to my room." The interrogator stated as he gestured to the fresh claw marking in his wall.

"It's getting worse Flamewar.... It has ever since you left. I haven't had an episode in a little under an astrocycle now, but now I feel he's getting stronger. He's beginning to resist the techniques you taught me to control him..."

Warwolf's actuators closed tight and he couldn't bare to look his mentor in the optics. He felt ashamed, like he's failed her. He braced himself for the punishment he anticipated Flamewar would dish out upon him, punishment she was known to deliver should anyone fail her.

"I'm afraid... Afraid I won't be able to hold him back next time..."

Med-Bay

Razorclaw's call to arms had not escaped Shockwave's notice. It, along with the reports of his subordinates, had all been factored into the set of equations which governed his latest actions. Ultimately, Shockwave knew that he was in no condition to take on whatever Cybertronian lifeform was attempting to designate itself as "the Fallen". Whatever it was, if it could disable a ship of this magnitude as easily as it had, the odds of the purple mech contributing in any substantial way to the battle efforts were negligible enough that Shockwave knew that he could comfortably shift his priorities elsewhere. Moreover, this would be a near ideal test of the new Supreme Commander's leadership capabilities. After all, the remnants would have to be gathered quickly should he fail.

Now, however, Shockwave's primary concern was his own functioning. In the distance, however, Shockwave could see the destroyed walls that separated the med-bay and the laboratory that he had purposefully designed on this vessel. It was there that the bulk of his critical work would be completed. It was there that he needed to return to as soon as possible.
___

Bounce Chamber

When Astrotrain and Octane suddenly materialized in the bounce chamber, it was immediately apparent that something big was going down as a continuous stream of Decepticons were in the process of mobilizing within the slowly diminishing space. Blitzwing obviously wasn't kidding.

"Shockwave's gonna kill you," Octane said, looking over at Astrotrain.

Engine Room

"Slaggit all to hell!" Long Haul exclaimed as he knelt down into the think liquid mess covering the engine deck flooring and began patch work on trying to stop the fuel leaking. "I'm all for getting my hands dirty, but this...THIS is just ridiculous..."

As the Constructicon transporter dipped his actuators deeper into the polychromatic sludge, he couldn't help but wish he'd be joining in on Razorclaw's command to mobilize an offensive unit to take on the Fallen. Instead, he's stuck up in this room with his other green lackies fixing some damn engine blocks.

"There! That's sealed now." Long Haul stated as he rose from his spot, wiping engine fluid off his leg servos. "Eh Scrapper, you wanna help me get the crud outta here? Scoop it up and I'll run it to the oil reservoir."

Engine Room

The engine room was a mess, from every conceivable perspective, but it was reparable. Scrapper had encountered few situations in his existence that either could not be constructed from raw materials or put back together accordingly. Whatever it was that had suddenly appeared aboard this ship, it had left them alive. And that meant the Constructicons could do their work.

“This generator appears to be salvageable Scrapper. I would like to replace a few parts to increase efficiency, but I assume current time restrictions dictate I merely patch it up to bring it back to functioning status," Hook had said while Scrapper continued work on his own generator. The critical systems of the Thanatos were complex but they were also somewhat delicate. The idea that they might be compromised in such a manner was clearly illogical to its original designer.

"Yes. Patch jobs for now. When we're more reasonably certain that we're not facing complete annihilation, we'll apply our more fine-tuned efforts," Scrapper said, quite seriously, as he walked over to another rupture point and continued the resealing process. Long Haul's suggestion seemed to be borne of his frustrations. Over what, Scrapper didn't know. But there had to be a more efficient means of accomplishing said task.

"There has to be a drainage system of some kind built into this area. Surely they expected coolant leaks or other fluid ruptures that wouldn't be cleaned up by a simple Vehicon drone with a suction attachment."

Bridge

Razorclaw simply nodded at Onslaught as the Combaticon Commander made known his plan to gather the intel that was needed directly down on the surface before then seeing himself off of the bridge. His closest ally knew exactly what needed to be done without having to be told every minute detail. Now, if only every Decepticon was as efficient as Onslaught, the war would’ve been won eons ago. The Predacon lord’s attention was then briefly drawn to his subordinate, Rampage, as the tiger-former stood at the ready whether glory or death awaited them planet side. “Indeed,” Razorclaw responded with a grin forming underneath his own faceshield. “Now, you and Tantrum head to the armory and prepare for battle. Recharge if necessary. I’ll be along shortly.”

With his orders given to the only two Predacons on the bridge, Razorclaw turned his optics towards Soundwave as the communications specialist revealed that a message to the Autobots had been successfully sent. “Excellent. Well done,” the lion-former replied. He wasn’t particularly known to praise others outside of his own unit, but times were different now. Razorclaw was the new Supreme Leader of the Decepticon Empire and he needed to win over those who had not initially supported him, including the monotone mech.

“Soundwave, once you are finished here, you will join us on this campaign against the Fallen. Your communication skills will come in handy down there, not to mention your ability to hear others thoughts. I’ll need you to keep me informed of what the Fallen and his heralds are thinking and if there is anything left of our own comrades that can be saved. Furthermore, if we are to join with the Autobots in this endeavor, then I’ll need to be kept apprised of their thoughts, as well, especially the true motives of their new leader, Ultra Magnus. Is that understood?”

Not waiting for a response, Razorclaw turned and made his way towards the doors, opening a comm line to the med bay in the process:

>>”Divebomb, get Headstrong up and moving. I don’t care what it takes. Then both of you get refueled, rearmed and ready for the coming assault. I’m heading to the armory to acquire new weapons. Razorclaw out.”<<

With his comm line severed, the Predacon lord made his way off the bridge and through the corridors of the crippled Decepticon warship. With his shoulder-mounted cannons damaged in battle, Razorclaw would require new ones from his personal weapons locker along with the necessary ammunition. Then, once everyone was adequately prepared and ready for departure, the lion-former would take the fight to the Fallen. Glory or death! There was no in-between.

Corridors

Starscream’s babbling continued unabated as Sixshot effortlessly held him above the floor with one arm while pressing the butt of his weapon further into the Seeker Commander’s chin guard. This cowardly mech seemed to think he was better than Megatron, that he was what the slagmaker could never be. If the sixchanger had not been so enraged he would have let out a deafening laughter that ‘Cons on the other side of the galaxy could have heard and wondered about. However, Sixshot’s patience had all but worn out as his concussion blaster began to power up, the barrel glowing bright with the shot that was about to be unleashed.

However, before that blast could happen, Starscream answered the Phase Sixer’s last question, and it was a response that Sixshot did not expect to hear. It wasn’t simply another smug attempt to proclaim his superiority within the Decepticon Empire nor did he beg for mercy and reveal his true cowardice. No, Starscream did neither one of those things. Instead, he said something surprising: “Reset: Pi-Orion-Actual-Orbit. Enable."

“Oh, frag,” Sixshot replied as his visage revealed a look of shock and his powerful grip on the seeker began to weaken. “That was....a really....good.....answer. How did you.....” His vocals trailed off as the sixchanger’s systems all began to shut down one by one, forcing him to release Starscream and simultaneously drop his weapon. Sixshot then staggered sideways, his optics flickering on and off, before falling backwards and hitting the floor with a loud thud. The massive, 44-foot Phase Sixer lay motionless as the last of his internal functions ceased and his optics finally went completely dark. Sixshot was now in deep stasis lock and at the mercy of the very Seeker Commander he had just threatened.

Bridge

Rampage could tell that Razorclaw was enjoying this. But not more than Rampage. The Predacon gunner could barely control the circuit surges that had taken over his body at the bloodlusting thought of being able to hunt down some true prey. Prey worthy of their efforts. The predators would slake their thirst today. And if they had any luck, that Autobot lupine turncoat would be amongst the battlegroup that the Autobots selected to take part in this melee. With the ultra-energon that was still coursing through his systems, that would be too sweet. Rampage nodded his understanding and obedience to his fellow Predacon Warlord, now Supreme Commander, and then looked over at Tantrum.

"I'm loaded up. You need anything from the armory?"

"Nah."

Underneath his faceplate, Rampage's grin grew wider.

"Excellent. Bounce chamber then," Rampage said, exiting the bridge, the larger Predacon fueler brandishing his sword and following after him.
___

Priority-3 transmission from Onslaught to Swindle

>>"Negative Swindle. You have full authorization to proceed on your requested strategem. We will need it, one way or the other."<<

Med-Bay

Shadowing frowned at the lack of reply from Razorclaw. Between this and his earlier communication to everyone on the ship it seemed that their new leader was quiet eager to prove his worthiness in combat. It was a natural responce, however, he could not help but be concerned that it was the response their foe was seeking. He opened an extreme close range communication with Shockwave. Such a weak signal would not travel far and be completely obscured by all the equipment in the Laboratory.

"Commander, Razorclaw is unresponsive to my request for the use of the Laboratory. Unauthorized access will be necessary to continue what must be done. What are your orders?"

Brief and to the point. Shadowing knew he did not need to share his concerns about the rashness of Razorclaw's actions. Shockwave likely had long reached that same conclusion. He also knew Shockwave would realize that they had been ordered to move out. To reclaim the Laboratory would be a rejection of those orders. He knew what he would do, but Shockwave was the only one with the rank to make such a decision.

Habitation Suite

Flamewar watched as her former pupil rose out from his recharge slab to greet her with a very poor excuse at humor. It was a transparent facade to disguise his own unease. One that she recognized easily and saw through even more so, although it wasn't that impressive of a feat. Even a blind mech could see that something was troubling Warwolf.

The lupine mech soon dropped his pathetic charade and hopped from from the slab, approaching her. "Before we go, I need to tell you something..." Warwolf began as he stopped half way behind his recharge slab and the doorway where his mentor was standing. "I can tell you can see through my humor and that something's up with me. I'm guessing you can already tell that that mark on the wall over there was just a recent addition to my room."

Flamewar remained silent as she regarded Warwolf, resisting the impulse to say that her student was stating the obvious. He gestured over to the wall to indicate the scratches, but Flamewar continued to stare at Warwolf, having already given the scratches all of her intended attention already.

"It's getting worse Flamewar.... It has ever since you left. I haven't had an episode in a little under an astrocycle now, but now I feel he's getting stronger. He's beginning to resist the techniques you taught me to control him..."

Warwolf's actuators balled up into tight fists, optics averted. Shame. Repentance. All of it painfully obvious in his body language. His body tensed. Expecting a blow of some kind. Punishment for failure. Tension created by anticipation.

"I'm afraid... Afraid I won't be able to hold him back next time..."

Slowly and deliberately, Flamewar raised a hand up. She could imagine that the span of astroseconds it had taken her to do that must have felt like vorns for her protege. She brought down her actuator on Warwolf's shoulder, clasping it and giving her old student a shake to both reassure and make him meet her optics.

"Do not let your fear rule you," Flamewar said flatly, but not unkindly, "Use it. You have yet to disappoint me, Warwolf."

Now was not a time for lingering or soft words, however. This advice was all Flamewar could offer her former pupil at the moment. The black operative released Warwolf and turned on her heel, gesturing for him to follow.

"Come," she said, "We have a god to kill."

Striding out of her student's quarters, Flamewar pushed whatever concerns that she had to the side. Should Warwolf lose control down there, his rage was one that could be directed. That was the most that she could do for him, given the time frame and circumstances. Onto business. Flamewar opened a communique to Shadowing.

>>"Shadowing, this is Flamewar. Gather the uninjured lingering about the medical bay and send them to meet me at the bounce chamber."<<

Bounce Chamber

With that done, the black and crimson femme strode quickly through the corridors with Warwolf presumable following closely. Stepping into the bounce chamber, Flamewar noted the presence of both Astrotrain and Octane. The Triple Changers. She nodded almost imperceptibly at them. To anyone else, it would appear as though she were acknowledging their presence, but to Warwolf, it was a signal to keep a watchful optic on them.

Flamewar had not seen them in the hangar when the fight for the throne had concluded. Their allegiance was question, and she did not need any wild cards at this juncture. She made her way over to the control console, checking the last bounce's coordinates and the roster of those who had made the bounce. Combaticons. Good. They were a solid choice to be first on the ground.

The black operative prepped another bounce and glanced over to the door to the bounce chamber to await her reinforcements.



Medical Bay

>>"Divebomb, get Headstrong up and moving. I don’t care what it takes. Then both of you get refueled, rearmed and ready for the coming assault. I’m heading to the armory to acquire new weapons. Razorclaw out."<<

Divebomb, who had been preening, perked up at the communique from Razorclaw. Oh great. He got the job of getting Headstrong to get moving again. He glanced over to his comrade. The medical drones had done good work with getting him mostly repaired. With a grunt, Divebomb leaned down and pecked on Headstrong's head repeatedly.

"Hey. Headstrong. Wake up. Get up! Razorclaw wants us to get ready to go. Refueling, gearing up. Move it!" Divebomb squawked irritably as he pecked his comrade insistently.

If he didn't get Headstrong up and moving, Razorclaw would gut both of them. Well. Maybe not. But still he wouldn't be happy. Divebomb kicked Headstrong for good measure, letting his talons rake across Headstrong's armor plating.