The Energon Pub

Medical Bay

Razorclaw was well aware of his surroundings as he lay on the med berth. Even as the various drones went about their work fixing his injuries and the nanite-rich fluid continued to course through his systems from the IV in his right arm, the Decepticon Supreme Leader paid attention to the comings and goings within the medical bay. Scrapper and some of the other Constructicons were here getting the repairs that they needed as was Onslaught who had entered not long ago and found a berth of his own. Somewhere within the maximum security wing, the Predacon lord could hear the screams of agony from Drag Strip as Motormaster dealt out his own brand of justice on the former herald of the Fallen.

However, it was not the yellow Stunticon that concerned Razorclaw now as much as those who would seek to overthrow him from the throne. Thunderwing was no where in sight and that bothered the lion-former. It bothered him a lot. Who knew exactly what the scientist was currently up to. Shockwave was also missing, but likely down in his laboratory. What was he doing down there? Was he continuing to work on that cyber-forming technology he had brought back from Cybertron or was he plotting to reclaim the leadership for himself? Then, of course, there was Starscream. The cowardly Seeker Commander was loitering about the medical bay with two of his aerial cronies, acting as suspicious as ever near none other than Sixshot’s CR chamber. Indeed, this could pose a major problem if Starscream sought to use the Phase Sixer against the new Predacon regime. Something would need to be done about that and soon. Very soon.

Thus, Razorclaw knew that he could not remain idle any longer. As the med drones finished the last of his external repairs, the lion-former sat up on the berth and yanked the IV out of his arm. Mal Practice was supposed to come by at some point, but the medic had apparently been delayed. It mattered little as the lion-former needed no more attention. His internal repair systems in conjunction with the nanite/energon mixture would be more than enough to finish the job and bring him up to full functionality within a breem or two. He was extremely durable and tough, more so than most Decepticons. That would never change. Regardless, the Predacon lord needed to get back to leading before someone else decided to take advantage of the situation and do it for him.

>>”Rampage, have you, Headstrong and Divebomb secured the bridge yet and has the Thanatos been moved back to the dark side of the moon? I was a status update ASAP.”<<

Closing his secured comm line, Razorclaw hopped off his med berth and approached Tantrum, his ever loyal subordinate who had watched over him while he sought repairs. “Come, my friend,” the lion-former said as he placed his hand on the fueler’s shoulder before moving past him. Tantrum remained silent and simply nodded in understanding, following his commander out into the med bay proper from the secured area they had just been in.

As Razorclaw moved silently through the med bay, he glanced around at the various Decepticons who had sustained injuries against the power of the fiery demigod. They had sacrificed so much in the effort to save their kind from annihilation and it would not be forgotten. Moving by Onslaught’s med berth, the Predacon lord gave his most loyal friend a respectful nod before then entering the maximum security wing to witness the torture of Drag Strip firsthand. There Motormaster had pinned the yellow racer to a berth with his sword and awaited Orbitoclast to do some kind of processor scan to ensure that Drag was no longer under the influence of the Fallen. Not a bad idea to be sure.

“Orbitoclast, once you are finished probing Drag Strip's mind, I want you to do the same to Darkride,” Razorclaw instructed as he motioned towards the interrogator a short distance away. “I want both of these former heralds to be fully checked out and cleared before they are released back into the Decepticon ranks. Take absolutely no chances with them. Motormaster, assist the good doctor if she requires it. Your imposing presence alone should be enough to keep either of these two former heralds in line while she conducts her work.”

Razorclaw then turned back and re-entered the med bay proper. He once again took a look around the room at the numerous injured mechs. Now was a good time to address them and reinforce the notion that their sacrifices had not been for nothing. “My fellow Decepticons, I want to congratulate all of you on a job well done. I know that you have endured a lot of pain and suffering at the hands of the Fallen, but I can assure you that it was not in vain. We helped stop the demigod from eradicating our race and for that we have nothing to be ashamed of. Now, once you are all healed, we can get back to fighting our real enemies, the Autobots! We will make them pay for how they have treated our kind over the vorns and we will be victorious!”

The lion-former fell silent for a moment as he regarded everyone in the room before his gaze fell on Scrapper and the Constructicons. Without hesitation, Razorclaw turned his attention towards the crimson mechanic, motioning for him to come closer. "Knockout, what is the repair status of Scrapper and his men? I want you to make sure they get all the repairs they require. I know they're not all here, but I want those that are at 100% as soon as possible. Same goes for everyone else in the med bay. We have a war to win and we can't do that if our comrades are not completely functional.”

Razorclaw then cast a deep scowl over in the Seeker Commander’s direction. “Starscream! You and your seekers have been loitering around the med bay for some time now. If you have no injuries to be treated or help to give the injured I suggest you move along and make yourself useful elsewhere.”

Without moving from his position, Razorclaw then opened a private comm line to the Combaticon Commander who was still receiving repairs a short distance away:

>>"Commander Onslaught, what is the status of Hook? Have your men isolated him as instructed?<<

Medical Bay – Maximum Security Wing

Nightraven had felt Skywarp’s movement behind her, but she kept her optics trained on the still restrained form of Darkride. How that fragger was already awake was anyone’s bet. She just refused to stick around to find out what would happen if he remained awake.

"Oh, him," Skywarp whispered, a newly formed frown etched deeply across his faceplate. "I don’t know what to tell you Nighty. He was barely Cybertronian to begin with. Primus only knows what he is now."

She nodded in agreement. The interrogator had never been completely sane from the get go, but that obviously was what made him so dangerous and effective at the same time.

“Can we get out of here?” Nightraven asked as her gaze fell on Motormaster and Drag Strip. She had finally had her fill when the other lunatic in the form of Orbitoclast arrived.

“Please.”
____________________

The pain filled cry that came from Drag Strip had Orbitoclast nearly giggling with glee. She would have such a fantastic time digging into this mech’s head. All she needed was the go-ahead.

“Let's see what you can do doc."

And there it was. Orbitoclast hopped happily as she pressed hands together.

“Oh! This is going to be so much fu…informative.” She corrected.

The femme placed her ice cold hand on Drag Strip’s forehead and leaned down so as to catch his optics. “Don’t you worry, spawn of Unicron. This will hurt you a whole lot more than it’ll hurt me. Hehehehehe.”

Orbitoclast slithered around his slab pausing only a moment to offer Motormaster a broad smile and a light touch to his arm.

“I’ll get my things.” She trotted off to gather a few supplies all the while humming happily to herself.

Just as she reached her supplies Razorclaw had hopped off his medical berth and made his way to one of his Predacons. She returned to her prior task sure that the new Decepticon Commander would want whatever she found as soon as possible. And she certainly did not want to disappoint.

"Orbitoclast,”

At the sound of her name being spoken, Orbitoclast turned fully to face the Decepticon Leader.

“…once you are finished probing Drag Strip's mind, I want you to do the same to Darkride,"
Razorclaw instructed as he motioned towards the interrogator a short distance away. “I want both of these former heralds to be fully checked out and cleared before they are released back into the Decepticon ranks. Take absolutely no chances with them. Motormaster, assist the good doctor if she requires it. Your imposing presence alone should be enough to keep either of these two former heralds in line while she conducts her work."

“As you wish, my Lord.” She said with a deep bow. As she rose she shot a look in the interrogator’s direction. Gathering information from Drag Strip was going to be fun and rather simple, but Darkride preferred pain and the mech was psychologically…difficult.

Needless to say she would do what she could.
___________________________

Darkride kept watching Oil Slick while the chemist finished with his work. He knew from prior experience, and observation, that the domed ‘Con would keep a majority of the samples and only turn over the bear minimum to Decepticon Command. But that mattered little to him. It was Oil Slick. The mech preferred payment in samples to real credits anyway.

Oil Slick paused in his work and looked over in the direction of Razorclaw, who was now up and about.

“Ahh. That would be our illustrious new leader, yes?” Darkride said while he stared up at Oil Slick.

“That it is. And it would seem he does not believe you are free of the Fallen’s unholy grasp.” The chemist looked down to find a broad toothy grin plastered on Darkride’s face.

“He has every right to be cautious. If I were in his boots I would be.” The mech let out a demented chuckle.

“Would I be correct in believing that you are not you, but still a puppet?” Oil Slick readied one of his acid weapons just in case he received the wrong answer.

Darkride shook his head minutely. “Do not fear my dear Oil Slick. There are no strings on me.” The tall skinny ‘Con relaxed but only slightly. One could never be too sure with Darkride.

The two mechs regarded one another for several moments before Oil Slick turned his optics up to look at Razorclaw. The lion-former had just given the order to have both former Heralds examined.

“Orbitoclast?” Darkride queried.

Oil Slick nodded slightly. “So it would seem.”

The purple mech smiled a toothy smile and chuckled. “We have had play dates in the past.”

“And the results?” His companion asked.

Darkride let out a heavy sigh. “She always left angry.”

“Hmm. I would imagine that is how all of your liaisons have ended.”

Darkride smiled sweetly. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy?”

Oil Slick sent a deep glare down at the strapped ‘Con. “Hardly.”

Darkride tried to shrug but movement was severely impaired. “I suppose I can settle with Orbitoclast’s up and coming game. But I would much rather play with you.” Darkride’s vocalizer lowered.

Oil Slick simply cocked his head slightly and grunted.

Medical Bay – Maximum Security Wing

With a sadistic grin spread across his face, Motormaster watched gleefully as Dragstrip squirmed on the slab over the prospect of what was to come once Orbitoclast got ready to work her magic. The racer deserved this all after all he had done and Motormaster was not going to let him forget. For now though, he was content to enjoy witnessing Dragstrip's suffering until… Ah. Razorclaw had awakened and the Predacon leader had new orders to give.

"Orbitoclast, once you are finished probing Drag Strip's mind, I want you to do the same to Darkride," Razorclaw instructed as he motioned towards the interrogator a short distance away. “I want both of these former heralds to be fully checked out and cleared before they are released back into the Decepticon ranks. Take absolutely no chances with them. Motormaster, assist the good doctor if she requires it. Your imposing presence alone should be enough to keep either of these two former heralds in line while she conducts her work."

“We'd be better off if I just got rid of Darkride for good,” Motormaster scoffed, for he saw little value in sparing the interrogator's life. Darkride was insane, difficult to control, practically fearless and worst of all, he enjoyed receiving pain. A liability in so many levels. For a monster like Motormaster who got his own kicks from inflicting pain on others, this was abhorrent. He hated Darkride for it. For taking away the aspect of control he was most proficient in imposing on others. This did not mean that Darkride was without weaknesses. Even the insane interrogator could be bullied. Torn to pieces and humiliated. Annihilated if Motormaster would so choose. But it was almost not worth of the effort.

“But I will do as you wish Commander,” the Stunticon brute replied to Razorclaw before the current leader of the Decepticon Earth forces left the Maximum Security Wing.

“Unless miss medical genius has better ideas,” Motormaster grumbled to Orbitoclast, “I am going to nail Darkride's annoying face into his own slaggin' tailpipe with a download spike through his fraggin' cerebral processor unless I end up crushing his head first.”


Medical Bay

“My fellow Decepticons, I want to congratulate all of you on a job well done. I know that you have endured a lot of pain and suffering at the hands of the Fallen, but I can assure you that it was not in vain. We helped stop the demigod from eradicating our race and for that we have nothing to be ashamed of. Now, once you are all healed, we can get back to fighting our real enemies, the Autobots! We will make them pay for how they have treated our kind over the vorns and we will be victorious!"

“Yeah! We'll make them pay!” Brawl roared in response to Razorclaw's proclamation. He had entered the med bay in the wage of Onslaught like the rest of Combaticons. No single member of their unit had escaped the battle without injuries. Brawl had probably suffered the least amount of direct superficial damage but there was no telling how much damage the Fallen's dark energy attack had done to his innards. He was certainly still feeling sore from it but at least he was operational.

Medical Bay

Starscream smirked at the order barked at him and nodded. He turned toward Lock On and Vertigo.

"So, apparently you're my seekers now." he said slyly. "That means you have to do what I say."

With that, he looked back at Razorclaw and smiled.

"Elsewhere, mighty commander?" he asked, a dose of sarcasm underlining 'mighty commander.' "Your orders are harmonious melodies to my audio receptors."

Then he turned around and started walking out.

"And I have just the place." he said to himself, then turned to the seekers next to him. "You heard the bot. Let's go."

Med Bay

Vertigo looked a bit miffed at Razorclaw's accusations of loitering. But Starscream's sly statement caught his attention.

"So, apparently you're my seekers now." he said slyly. "That means you have to do what I say."

"Commander... no matter what, we are always your Seekers, despite what others may try to get us to do." Vertigo said to Starscream just loud enough for others to hear, before turning his attention to their esteemed Lord Commander.

"Well Lord Razorclaw, your medic never finished fixing my wing... so I wouldn't call it loitering, more like still damaged and awaiting treatment that was less critical than others." He said with a haughty aire and twisting his torso a bit to bring forward his bullet riddled wing. "But that's fine... I will hobble through...I am a Decepticon after all, if anything I can overcome pain and press on without medical attention, a good Decepticon will persevere in the face of injury."

Lock On snickered at the surveillance specialist's performance.

As Starscream affirmed that Razorclaw's order would be happily followed, Vertigo collected his surveillance drone then fell in step behind the Air Commander.

Lock On twirled his shotgun, remembering to lock the safety this time, and slung it over his back in one fluid motion. "Laters, Lord Razorclaw ... been real." He said with the slightest smirk as he followed Starscream and Vertigo."Give Sixy a kiss for me."

Vertigo exploded into laughter at that last statement of Lock On's, something rare for him. "Forgot about him... " He commented. "Give him a kiss? You're going to get yourself killed some day."

"Yes." Starscream added, "Forget about Sixshot. Matter of fact, forget about everyone else as well. We have plenty of work to do. Just follow me."

Starscream walked out of the medical bay without further comment, and headed down the corridor. He knew exactly where he must go, and what he must do.

Shockwave's Laboratory

Flamewar's conspicuous gaze at the project that currently held Shockwave's attention was logical, given her station and function within the empire. She would likely be an invaluable aspect of its deployment when the time came. But if she was overtly inquisitive about the project, she did not give voice to her curiosities. Instead, she turned to another matter entirely.

“I’ll be direct. Starscream somehow has obtained Sixshot’s shutdown code. It is a threat to our stability. I would like you to change it."

Shockwave's singular optic visibly flickered. His initial query was also the most logical: how did such a grave error occur in the first place? The safety measures integrated into the various superwarriors that had eventually come to be known as the Warriors Elite or those whom were primarily deployed during Phase Six of the infiltration protocols were done out of an abundance of caution and clearly, though the Decepticon tyrant would likely have never admitted it willingly, Megatron's fear of being usurped. Though Megatron's priorities were no longer a primary factor, the ability to incapacitate such super-weapons was not a responsibility to be given lightly. Certainly not to the likes of Starscream and his checkered history of illogical actions. This was an unfortunate situation in the utmost.

“However, in Lord Megatron’s absence, there remains the question of who receives knowledge of the new one."

Shockwave appreciated Flmaewar's succint nature. That was indeed the next most logical concern. Starscream's ability to remove Sixshot from this theater of operations at his whim needed to be nullified with haste. Shockwave continued to listen to the Decepticon operatives words, even as she switched to a more secure line of communication.

>>“I propose an alliance between myself, you, and Soundwave. A triumvirate of sorts. Soundwave is already in agreement. We would manipulate the current regime to establish stability and prevent any further infighting. So long as Razorclaw and his Predacons prove to remain the best option for that course, in any case. We three would possess Sixshot’s shutdown code."<<

Shockwave sat in silence for a moment or two, calculating variables and potential scenarios that could statistically arise from Flamewar's proposed course of action. Ultimately, Razorclaw's power structure needed to have counterbalances in place to ensure stability if his regime imploded. That was logical. There was, however, a point which lacked some degree of logic, given the information Shockwave currently possessed.

>>"Interrogative: what incentive exists for me to share the new codes once they are installed? I require neither you nor Soundwave's particular skillsets in order to integrate them. Logic dictates that the fewer Decepticons who know the codes, the fewer Decepticons there will be who can capitalize on such knowledge, as Starscream inevitably will when he feels the time is right."<<

Bridge

On three of the holoscreens currently displayed in front of him, Rampage had managed to pick up Terran broadcasts. One that currently held his interest was a program called Fear the Walking Dead. Did that stuff happen on this planet? That would be odd. First one of those things to try and bite him was going to get flattened. Another was a show called Big Brother. It reminded him a lot of what Iacon felt like after the government and their Autobot slaves really took over and began to crack down under Zeta Prime. And minimized off to one side where he could just barely see it was some wandering human called Anthony Bourdain on a show called No Reservations. Good intel about the culture and, he had to admit, the food looked pretty good too. For stuff you would find on a planet made of mud and water, anyway. Yeah, he could definitely keep this up for a while. He already had two other series bookmarked for viewing later.

>>"Rampage, have you, Headstrong and Divebomb secured the bridge yet and has the Thanatos been moved back to the dark side of the moon? I was a status update ASAP."<<

The ship had not been moved from its deployment position for their Terran operations, but the bridge had been easily secured. Rampage was glad he could report that much.

>>"Yes sir, my alpha. It was just Gloom and Doom on the bridge. I got rid of 'em. We'll head for the dark side of the moon now,"<< he transmitted, before looking over at Headstrong and Divebomb. "You heard 'im."

Medical Bay - Maximum Security Wing

Skywarp listened to Nightraven as she pleaded with him to finally leave the medical bay. She didn’t exactly say where she wanted to go, and it likely didn’t matter. With the two former heralds in close proximity and Orbitoclast having recently arrived, Nighty seemed more nervous now than when the Fallen was threatening to destroy the entire Cybertronian race along with the Universe.

“Sure, we can get out of...” the teleporter began to respond but was cut off by the arrival of 'Lord' Razorclaw, who quickly gave orders to have both Drag Strip and Darkride’s minds scanned for residual influence of the Fallen. It sounded like a pretty good idea to the prankster, but he wasn’t about to say that to the Predacon Commander. No way, no how. Razorclaw then made his little speech in the Med Bay proper before issuing further orders, some of which were aimed at Starscream.

“I didn’t even realize Screamer was in here. Did you, Nighty?” Skywarp asked in a hushed tone just as the Seeker Commander responded cynically to Razorclaw before taking his leave of the facility. “I’m a little surprised he didn’t have any orders for us. I guess he just didn’t see us in here, or he just has a lot on his mind. I’m sure that’s it. He's probably got things to take care of. Oh, well. Let's get going. I don't think we're needed around here anymore.”

Corridor outside Medical Bay

The teleporter then exited the maximum security wing before slipping by Razorclaw and leaving the medical bay all together. Once they had entered into the outside corridor, Skywarp glanced over his shoulder plate at Nightraven, letting a smile cross his visage. “Well, I’m glad to be out of there. It was getting way too crowded with all those who are not exactly seeker friendly. So, why don’t we head on down to the lounge. I could use a stiff drink of high grade right about now. Unless, you’ve got a better idea in mind.”

Outside the Medical Bay

"I have a better idea." Starscream said to Skywarp as he saw his fellow Seeker pass by. "What do you think your worth is to our glorious commander?"

Starscream stepped closer to Skywarp and looked him in the optics.

"Don't you want something more to do with your time than be an errand boy?" he asked with a smirk. "Do you really think Razorclaw will stay in power much longer? Over this bunch? Hah! Why don't you live up to your Seeker classification and seek a brighter future for yourself?"

To underscore that final word, Starscream poked Skywarp in the cockpit canopy on his chest with a finger.

Med Bay

Shadowing lay on his repair station. He could hear the snapping of metal as the droids removed his melted outer armor which had been fused together in many places. He remained calm as this not been the first time he had found himself in such a state and it likely would not be the last. Nothing to do but think.

Medical Bay

Taking the time after the battle with the Fallen to properly lick her wounds, Darkfire had shuffled off to the medical bay to be treated by one of the medical drones. Psychout had repaired her enough to get her moving around, but she wanted to be one hundred percent operational for any future assignments. She issued a soft sigh as the medical drone cut the damaged portions of her armor away and infused her with synthetic energon to purge her system fully of the dark energy of the Fallen.

Glancing over to the medical slab beside her, the assassin noted that the mech occupying it had regained consciousness. She recalled seeing him around during her brief moments of wakefulness, but she lacked information regarding his name or function. It looked like he had been hit pretty badly during the fight. Astonishing how much damage one mechanoid could do. Well, one demi-god.

Darkfire stared at Shadowing for a long moment. “Hey,” she said, “You. What’s your function? Who are you?” Not knowing if the mechanoid could hear her, the femme merely waited, gazing at him with violet optics patiently. Even if he hadn’t heard her, it was mildly entertaining to watch the medical drones at work. Her optics flicked over to Razorclaw indifferently as he made his speech. Hm. That was their leader, huh?

Med Bay

Scrapper leaned back against his inclined medical slab as he awaited for one of the few Decepticon medical officers to work their way over towards the small corner the Constructicons were gathered in. His optical visor scanned the room and took note of all its inhabitants, which was pretty much the entirety of the Decepticon force that made a stand against the Fallen.

"So it actually worked..." The front loader whimsically recalled as he looked back to his team of engineers. "Devastator... We cracked the age-old enigma."

"I don't remember anything from it." Long Haul stated as a medical drone began to peal away at his torso armor in order to begin repairs.

"Don't feel too bad, my vision is blurry as well." Scrapper reassured, "Given that Hook was the centerpiece of the shared data collection, I'd assume he remembers things much more vividly then we would. Scavenger, Mixmaster, either of you remember anything after we converged?"

The green and purple Decepticon's inquiry with his team was shortly cut off as Supreme Commander Razorclaw stepped forward to deliver a little speech, one to remind everyone that the truce with the Autobots was off and that the war continued onward.

"Knockout, what is the repair status of Scrapper and his men? I want you to make sure they get all the repairs they require. I know they're not all here, but I want those that are at 100% as soon as possible. Same goes for everyone else in the med bay. We have a war to win and we can't do that if our comrades are not completely functional."

The Crimson cladded medic spun on his heel strut as the bestial supreme commander addressed him, locking optics with the black and gold lionformer before Knockout cleared his vocalizer.

"Do not fear my lord," The doctor assured while he brought a hand over his spark chamber in a half bow to the Predacon, "I shall have them back on their feet in no time."

Knockout then pivoted around once more towards the direction of the nearby work station and rolled his optics while his back was turned towards Razorclaw, his fake smile quickly sliding off his faceplate as he reached for his datapad. First Sixshot, then those trigger happy seekers, and now half of all the Decepticons positioned in this sector of the galaxy! A small huff of air escaped Knockout's vocalizer as he examined the datapad, longing for a chance to just drop his work here and take a visit to Earth's surface and get some driving in. He couldn't recall the last time his tires touched human made asphalt, but being locked in with this miserable bunch wasn't helping his case either.

"Alright, Misfire," the Crimson and gold Doctor began, his optics never breaking away from the medical chart in his hand. "You're done here. Drones did their work and your internal repair systems can handle the rest of the damage." Knockout then swatted away the drone that hovered over the fuchsia flyer. "Up and at'im, flyboy."

Finished with the accuraty-challenged jetformer, Knockout approached the side of the medical berth where the Constructions were all gathered around, scrolling down the medical charts on his datapad towards the green team's records.

"Well it appears Sir Razorous the Clawful put you lot on the top of my priority list. Who wants to go first?"

"Long Haul here is the one who took the most of the Fallen's damage between all of us. My leg servos can wait until he gets patched first." Scrapper instructed as he gestured to the injured transporter currently being examined by a couple of medical drones.

The metallic brow above Knockout's right optic rose as he looked over the lead engineer and over to his subordinate. His shoulder servos expressed a nonverbal 'whatever' as he shrugged and moved over towards the Constructicon in need of repairs.

"Anyways... Anyone seen Hook? I know a couple of the Combaticons helped carry him off Astrotrain but..."

Lounge

"Just... give me a fragging pint, yeah?" The crocodilian mech across the bar requested after crushing his glass. Needlenose payed no mind to his mistake seeing how it wasn't his inventory the cruncher of skulls just destroyed. He dipped under the counter and pulled out the bottle of brawlers brew and passed the entirety of it to the Decepticon while Windsweeper tended to the mess.

"Ya know, I had the weirdest vision."

"Really now? I never took you to be the 'spiritual vision' type of mech." Needlenose inquired as he slid the next ready drink down the bar towards Bonecrusher. "Do tell," he requested echoing Weirdwolf, "I could use a good laugh right now. Heh."

-

On the other side of the lounge, sitting alone and with a datapad in one hand and his other wrapped around a large glass of the potent Brawlers Brew, sat Warwolf. His optical visit remained glued to the information displayed as the environment around him continued to alter.

"This still doesn't seem... right..." He murmured softly, audible only towards himself or anyone with highly tuned audio receptors.

*Well then, don't go through with it.*

Warwolf shot up and glanced around the room to find the source of the unfamiliar voice he just heard. The bar itself seemed to be the busiest hub for new arrivals, but each of the Decepticons around that line spot were too busy in a previous conversation or not even looking his way.

*Tsk tsk tsk... I would have thought you'd be able to recognize your own voice.*

The interrogator stared deep into the lit screen of his datapad before he flicked it off and stared deep into the reflection of his own Crimson optics.

*What's the matter? Not familiar with this particular tone? Of course you aren't, I can read that thought you just had*

What are you getting at? And since when did you get in my head?

*Oh I've always been here. I've just always used a different... let's just say "tone of voice"*

No, the beast itself couldn't have-

*Adapted? Of course we could, tis the nature of our entire species isn't?*

Warwolf maintained his stare into the blank screen in front of him, though the visage felt like it didn't match up with his own expression. He must be over energized or something... There's no way this was real...

*Oh it's real alright, you and I both know we are nowhere close to being intoxicated.*

Where did you come from then? How come you don't sound as snarled as before?

*We can sit here and say all the vorns of Flamewar's teachings had helped "dispel" the more feral side of us, but let's not kid ourselves here. I'm still the same old me. But, we've learned a few things over those vorns of benign held back behind your mental walls. We obviously have the ability to coexist, but we know the feral wants to come out and play, but doing so could get us killed.*

I'm more than aware of that fact...

*And I know how you don't want to end up a smoldering pile of charred metal because you let your hold on me slip. You noticed how quiet we went for awhile, you ever wonder why? No, you didn't, because you were drinking yourself into a goddamn stupor.*

What's your point?

*I can't say I'm not dangerous, but we both know that the data we've been reading is. You can feel it in our chassis, the uneasiness and the unsureness about trusting the scientist. We don't need him... We can work towards bettering ourselves.*

How do I know this isn't some ploy for you to escape again? To turn on our allies and start another slaughtering spree? One that got us locked away in one of the Garrus facilities?

*We can't make that promise, you know full well of that. But just remember one thing...

It was a scientist who made us like this.*

Corridors

"...Sound about right, Deads? Deady?"

Dead End's audio sensors finally registered his teammate's inquiry, having zoned out during their wall away from the hangar. The maroon warrior shifted his violet visor to the blabbering Breakdown and the boredom stricken Wildrider.

"Primus, we only just got back, piston for brains." Dead End griped towards Wildrider. "There's nothing here we can do that won't piss the boss off. You go to relax and he'll call us lazy degenerates, beat the far off our tires... You go the lounge and get some drinks in, he'll rip you open for drinking on the job... I say we just hit the lounge. Least if I'm gonna die, I'll be able to have one last drink."

Knockout's Lab

The dismembered head of Bitstream stood upright on the doctor's workbench via a makeshift pedestal Soundwave crudely pieces together with some scrap metal. A variety of wires stretched across the workspace and connected into various ports upon the seekers head. Panels were pulled to make way for the limited life support cables dangling from the walls and workbench. It wasn't enough to bring the decapitated Bitstream back from stasis, but it certainly gave Soundwave enough power to access primary systems within the processor unit.

>>"Boss, should I be keeping an eye on someone? That Flamewar maybe, or Starscream, or something? I don't like being in the dark."<<

The blue and white Decepticon kept his focus on the late seeker's processor unit as the feline cassette contacted him from within his chest. He looked over his arsenal of tools and pulled a small laser scalpel from the bunch. The tool ignited with a sharp hiss before Soundwave moved it towards the panel that blocked the memory core.

"Negative, old friend." He finally replied aloud as sparks arced off the metal casing, "There is no need to indulge in such matters at the moment. Starscream's ambitions have not faltered since his attempt at claiming the throne. Spying on him would be a waste of resources. As for our new ally..." His voice trailed as he set the scalpel down and grabbed new set of wiring, slowly and carefully beginning to connect the strands to key components within the motherboard-like panels surrounding the brain module. "Her intentions of maintaining a Megatronian regime within the ranks warrants some level of trust." He tapped his temple, "But I am always listening."

Soundwave's gaze with his handiwork was averted as he turned his head towards the doorway, staring at the door though no one had entered. His highly tuned audio receptors managed to pick up on Flamewar's appointment with Shockwave. Coincidental timing it seems.

After listening in on Shockwave's cold rebuttal to Flamewar's proposal, Soundwave returned his gaze back to Bitstream's lifeless optics. His time is drawing thin and his only hope would be if Flamewar could somehow distract the military strategist long enough to buy him more time.

The Decepticon communications officer installed the last cable to the back of Bitstream's head, the direct neural route to the brain module. He traced the cord with his finger tips to he found its end port and attached it to an ease-of-access port on his left temple. The blue and white mech's usual red visor was soon replaced with white static. From behind the visor, Soundwave's crimson's optics peered over the static display as his HUD was replaced with a crude yet functioning direct video feed. He pressed the rewind button fashioned on his waste, and Bitstream's last few moments of life began to replay before Soundwave's own optics.

The final memory of Bitstream, a memory that never happened... "The Crowning of Bitstream Prime". 'Twas but a dream where he ruled over a unified Cybertron. A dream in which he wore a face that no longer shared resemblance to the other seekers. A dream in which he helped usher in a brand new era of peace. A dream that made him happy.

Soundwave made note of this recollection. Though he had always believed Megatron was the only mech who should be witnessed as the bringer of a unified Cybertron, this seekers hopes were admirable to say the least.

Rest well in the Allspark... You are with Primus now...

Rewinding the available video data more, Soundwave filed away at the stream of relapsed data. Fragments of code were beginning to corrupt, or became corrupted following his termination.

>>"...I *tzzzk*-ually have *stttzk* a very g-*vvvvzzzsk* for you."<<

Soundwave froze the video feed as he heard Starscream's voice. His memory recalled that it was through the Seeker commander that his off lined subordinated had gotten the code from. He only hoped the video data wasn't as corrupted as the earlier footage became.

>>"Re-*zzz*-et: Pi-Orion-Actual-Orbit. Enable."<<

Soundwave looped the video feed back several times, trying to confirm that what he had witnessed hadn't become corrupted even further before he rewound the feed one final time with the record button on. He disconnected himself from the makeshift joint-video feed and immediately hit the eject on his cassette encasing, launching Ravage from his chest.

"Ravage, eject. There's been a change in plans, make your way to the medical bay and keep watch over the phase sixer. No one is to open his CR Chamber. Stay discreet, but do not lag about. We do not have time to waste."

Med Bay

Shadowing turned his optics towards the voice he heard. Turning his head was probably not a good idea until the fused plates where removed as if one broke it could jam into his neck servos.

"My name is Shadowing." He normally would not have replied but it seemed like there was little more to do. "Normally I am Commander Shockwave's assistant... seems like now I am of little use."

He spoke calmly.

"What is yours?"

Medical Bay

"My name is Shadowing. Normally I am Commander Shockwave's assistant... seems like now I am of little use."

Darkfire stared at the downed mechanoid thoughtfully. One of Shockwave’s followers? Hm. She hadn’t seen him around. Then again. She hadn’t been active that long under Shockwave and Psychout’s command. Their little team. She was second-in-command. Hmph. Where were the rest of those louts now? If they had been around, boredom likely wouldn’t have compelled her to start a conversation with a total stranger.

"What is yours?"

“Darkfire,” she answered with something of a sigh, “It so happens that I also work for Shockwave. Not directly, though. I take orders from Psychout. In a team.” Darkfire let out a growl. They were still in the process of growing on her. Like rust. Or a particularly annoying parasite. Her optics flicked down to Shadowing.

“Shadowing, hm?” Darkfire commented, her optics taking in the full measure of the black jet. “So what, are you an engineer or scientist then? Maybe a warrior with those injuries…How is working with Shockwave personally?”


Corridors

"Umm, hmm, do the opposite of whatever it is you want to do. Sound about right, Deads? Deady?" Breakdown replied.

“…That’s so boring…” Wildrider squeezed out on the verge of exploding.

"Primus, we only just got back, piston for brains." Dead End griped towards Wildrider. "There's nothing here we can do that won't piss the boss off. You go to relax and he'll call us lazy degenerates, beat the far off our tires... You go the lounge and get some drinks in, he'll rip you open for drinking on the job... I say we just hit the lounge. Least if I'm gonna die, I'll be able to have one last drink."

“Lounge, huh?” Wildrider said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Well, it was better than walking around the corridors, hoping they didn’t run into Motormaster at some point. “Yeah…” Wildrider said slowly, nodding. There were bound to be some mechs in the Lounge too. Maybe one of them would be up for a brawl or something. “Yeah!” Wildrider repeated, clearly sold on the idea.

“Race ya there! Last one there has to tell Motormaster why we’re there!” Wildrider snapped as he transformed and rocketed past his fellow Stunticons. He almost immediately collided with the wall in front of them, but he bounced and span off, racing down the corridors at high speeds. “HAHAHAHA!”

Medical Bay

"Whatever needs to be done at the moment I suppose." He answers calmly. "Commander's Shockwave's projects tend to be varied so I have to be flexible. After for what its like working with him..."

He thinks about it for a moment.

"Logical... it is logical." Shadowing simply answers. There really was no better way to describe the experience of being around Shockwave so much. At least, no better way that he could actually share with others.

"So how about you? What tasks is your team assigned?"

Shockwave’s Lab

>>"Interrogative: what incentive exists for me to share the new codes once they are installed? I require neither you nor Soundwave's particular skillsets in order to integrate them. Logic dictates that the fewer Decepticons who know the codes, the fewer Decepticons there will be who can capitalize on such knowledge, as Starscream inevitably will when he feels the time is right."<<

Flamewar’s optics flickered momentarily. It was a logical conclusion to arrive. Strictly, speaking. Though it lacked some consideration of social factors. She had her answer, yet Flamewar held her silence for a long moment, considering how to phrase it to the logical scientist. Shockwave was not an enemy that she wished to have if it could be helped.

>>”That is true. However, by sharing the new codes, you secure the cooperation myself and Soundwave in your current and future endeavors. I believe this is the most logical and mutually beneficial option for all involved parties…given the alternatives.”<<

She left what those alternatives might be to Shockwave’s imagination. Or calculations. The black operative needed him to acquiesce. She would get him to. One way or another. She wondered if Soundwave were listening in at the moment…Even though it was a private, secure, short-range communication that she was using, if one wanted to keep secrets from Soundwave, it was best said aloud far from the blue and white communications officer. But even then. He had his ways. Flamewar looked up into Shockwave’s optic with quiet patience. Waiting for an answer.


Med Bay

“Scavenger, Mixmaster, either of you remember anything after we converged?"

Scavenger felt sad. He’d asked Scraper a question earlier only to be ignored. He’d been a bit too scared to pester Scrapper. What if…what if Scrapper yelled at him for it? Yeah. Better to keep his trap shut. Wait. Had Scrapper just asked him something? Scavenger looked over to his boss uncertainly. Well, he was looking this way. Did…scrap! What…what…oh! He remembered!

“Ah! Uh…I’m-“

Scavenger cut off as Razorclaw made his speech to the masses. The puppycon waited impatiently for the Predacon lord to be done before looking back at Scrapper. “I uh…dunno what converged means, boss!” he piped up. “But…uh…I remember…uh…walking here! And that the Combaticons got Hook! And…uh..Before that…ah…We all fell. After that uh…flame guy zapped us. I remember us crushing him though! And smashing! I think? Maybe? Huh…That’s…I feel like we did!”

Scavenger looked at Scrapper eagerly. “Uh…that good, boss?” he asked, feeling awfully proud of himself for recalling so much.


"Whatever needs to be done at the moment I suppose. Commander Shockwave's projects tend to be varied so I have to be flexible. After for what its like working with him...”

A pause.

"Logical... it is logical." Shadowing simply answers. What a perfectly dull answer. Not that Darkfire was expecting anything less. The word logical could summarize Shockwave perfectly.

"So how about you? What tasks is your team assigned?"

“Odds and ends, it seems. Whatever needs doing. Same as you, I suppose. Our most recent assignment had us initiate Phase 2 of the infiltration protocol. Whoo,” Darkfire muttered, turning her head slightly to look across the medical bay to the CR chamber storage facility. “That was really our first and only mission. At least the first with me. I was recently reactivated from long-term cryostasis. Can’t say I’m thrilled to be working with a bunch of hyper-violent idiots.”

Darkfire vaguely wondered how much longer the war would go on for. Not that it really mattered to her either way. Entering long-term stasis had been one of her better ideas. Long stretches of time would pass between activations. Yet nothing seemed to ever change. She wasn’t sure why she bothered anymore. The work her old function provided her was the only thing left that made her feel anything. Killing. Assassination. Seemed to be less of a demand for that nowadays.

Her thoughts drifted back. Toward Cybertron. Toward-

No. No, she wouldn’t. She couldn’t think about that.

“…”


Knockout’s Lab

"Negative, old friend. There is no need to indulge in such matters at the moment. Starscream's ambitions have not faltered since his attempt at claiming the throne. Spying on him would be a waste of resources. As for our new ally…Her intentions of maintaining a Megatronian regime within the ranks warrants some level of trust." Soundwave tapped his temple, "But I am always listening."

>>”Yeah, yeah…alright, Soundwave,”<< Ravage replied, settling in restlessly in his friend’s chest cavity. Looked like he wasn’t going to be watching anyone anytime soon. A fact that vexed the feline Cybertronian. He did not like this. Without Megatron, so many others schemed and made moves like Razorclaw and his allies initially had. Ravage had yet to forgive the Predacon lord for jeopardizing their position within the Decepticon ranks yet again.

Still, as restless as he was, Ravage ended up deciding to engage a recharge cycle. Might as well be prepared for when something was required of him. He had no sooner decided this than Ravage found himself suddenly launched from Soundwave’s chest cavity. His feline reflexes sprung into motion. He transformed, twisting in the air so as to land on his feet.

"Ravage, eject. There's been a change in plans, make your way to the medical bay and keep watch over the phase sixer. No one is to open his CR Chamber. Stay discreet, but do not lag about. We do not have time to waste."

Ravage nodded curtly before hastily loping toward the door. It opened with a slight hiss, and the black cat was gone. But his curiosity was not.

>>”What happened, boss?”<<

Med-Bay

“Scavenger, Mixmaster, either of you remember anything after we converged?"
their Unit Commander had asked.

Scavenger went first, and Mixmaster was pretty much listening just as intently as Scrapper likely was, nodding agreeably at the fellow Constructicon's memories. This was all so new and exciting. And-and...Devastator. He wasn't just a figment of their imaginations or a work-in-progress. He was real! And soon enough, they could sort out this leadership vacuum that Megatron's death had left them all with.

But to the question at hand...

"Uhhh, hmm, hehe....hmmm...lesseee...oh! Live Scavenger said, I could see me and feel me. But...but I was a part of him. I could see through his eyes. I could still think my thoughts...but...but I could hear what you guys all wanted to do too! We were him, but we were us too."

If that made sense.
___

Corridors

Breakdown was pretty much shocked by Dead End's answer. He had figured it'd be something safe or easy or something just barely above what the other Stunticon considered standrd in his depressed life. But it wasn't that at all! It was...

...a good idea!

Who knew?

Breakdown looked from Dead End to Wildrider. Okay. Here it comes. A good idea perfectly wasted. Wildrider wouldn't want to go to the lounge. He would want to sneak off the ship and go on some crazy, suicide mission against the Autobots and-

-no? He wanted to go too?

"Niiice," Breakdown said, grinning. And before he could say much further, Wildrider had pretty much challenged them and was off. Breakdown didn't hesitate. He was off too. Lounge it is.

Med-Bay

The brief glance that Razorclaw had given him had not gone unnoticed by the Combaticon Commander. He and Razorclaw had come too far to let their guard down now; from their faceoff with Thunderwing to their standing against Starscream and later Shockwave's claims to fill Megatron's throne they had jeopardized their standing as well as the very lives of their units--Decepticon lieutenants and commanders were not know for their magnanimity. They had put themselves in the crosshairs of a number of mechs, and that list would only grow larger once word spread of what had happened on this planet. That was why it was all the more important that they secure a new and functional chain-of-command before their leadership was inevitably challenged by some other warlord.

Razorclaw's transmitted question was a natural one: they were walking a very fine line with the Constructicons. Scrapper was a rare example of a unit commander who actually cared, to some noticeable degree, about the well-being of his subordinates.

>>"Hook is currently with Swindle and Vortex in the security wing. They will ensure he comes to no harm while keeping him safely away from his compatriots...at least until such time as we can be sure that we have secured Scrapper's allegiance with our goals....though....it begs the question--if they have unlocked that potential within themselves, I wonder....how broadly can we apply it? What other members of our ranks could be used to create more gestalts like the one we witnessed down on Uluru?"<<
___

Shockwave's Laboratory

>>”That is true. However, by sharing the new codes, you secure the cooperation myself and Soundwave in your current and future endeavors. I believe this is the most logical and mutually beneficial option for all involved parties…given the alternatives."<<

Shockwave's singular optic remained fixed on the black operative, his complex laser core calculating new probabilities based on Flamewar's choice of words and how they might be utilized in the work to come.

>>"Declarative: I find your proposal logical. Your respective skills will be utilized at a later time. Imperative: you will now need to secure Sixshot's cooperation. I am unsure as to whether he will see us holding his proverbial chain as being preferable to Starscream."<<

The Lounge

The symphatizing pat on the back by Weirdwolf did not bring Skullcruncher's drink back. Neither did the arrival of Bonecrusher, whom the large warrior simply greeted with dour a grunt. The talk about weird vision did little to pick his interest either. He was too hungry and too upset over having royally screwed up. Again.

It was Windsweeper's reaction that caught his attention however.

“How…How could you! It was spotless just a second ago!"

Now that irked him up. He had never liked the former head of the department of sanitation. He was simply way too uptight with keeping everything spotless. Especially considering the fact that they were in a damned war. They had been for longer than he cared to remember. Skullcruncher's gaze slowly shifted towards Windsweeper with enough maliciousness in his optics to scare most idiots into hiding.

“Of all the brainless things to do…"

That was it. He was going to mop the floor with the annoying gnat. He was going to… drink the bottle of brawler's brew passed to him by Needlenose just in time. Yeah. He was going to do that.


Bridge

“Who says I heard anything?” Headstrong gruffly responded to Rampage's words and leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed behind his head and legs resting on an instrument panel in front of him. “Go back watching those brain dead meatbags making fools of themselves in the shows you so fancy and leave me fragging alone.”

“I know what I am doing.”

Corridor outside Med Bay

Before Nightraven had been able to respond to Skywarp's query, the teleporter’s attention was quickly drawn away by the sudden vocals of Starscream. Apparently, the Seeker Commander had not forgotten about them, at least not entirely. He was a very busy mech, after all, having to worry about the whole of the seeker corps within the Sol System as well as somehow wrestle the throne away from the Predacon ‘lord’. Skywarp was very glad he was not in Starscream’s position and, instead, could leave such decision making to someone with far more intelligence than the prankster, himself.

The Seeker Commander’s words bore deep into Skywarp’s audio receptors. There was a heavy truth to what Starscream was saying, and the teleporter didn’t like it one bit. “I think we’re all worth nothing more than canon fodder to the likes of Razorclaw and his supporters. Although, I guess he still needs air support during battles, but I doubt he thinks highly of me or any seeker,” Skywarp replied, standing tall and looking his commander directly in the optics. “And I’m no one’s errand boy...well...except yours, of course, but I’m definitely not for some Predacon beast! We were just heading to get a drink. That's all.”

The rest of Starscream’s words made Skywarp glance over at Nightraven ever so briefly before he returned his attention to the Seeker Commander. “I hope his reign ends soon, but doesn’t that all depend on what you have planned? You should be leading us, Starscream, not any of them. We seekers will only have a bright future when you’re on the throne.” The prankster paused for a moment to let his words sink in. Skywarp wasn’t the smartest of mechs, but he knew enough to realize that the only way his kind would get any respect was if their commander was calling all of the shots.

“So, with all due respect, Starscream, I guess my question to you is when are you going to do something and take what’s rightfully yours? And what can Nightraven and I do to help, sir?”

Med Bay Corridors

Vertigo and Lock On made their way out of Med bay, into the corridors, both engrossed in Vertigo's datapad, watching cat videos, that they quite literally ran into Starscream as he spoke to Skywarp.

"Air Commander!" Vertigo exclaimed almost in a whisper, his optics wide at his faux pas."My apologies, sir.... cat videos"

Lock On had a vaguely disturbed look on his faceplate. "Deja vu..." He muttered. "I swear we did exactly this already..."

"Really?" Vertigo asked softly. "And here I kept feeling like I had forgotten something important we were supposed to do... or say... something."

Med Bay

Darkfire noticed the mech flinch on the slab. Drones didn’t tend to be the most gentle of doctors. But then. Neither were some of the doctors in the Decepticons, come to think of it. He was probably better off with the drones.

"Sadly, I am not hearing any calls for the Reasonablecons being organized."

“What a shame,” Darkfire commented. She scowled slightly as the drone working on her nicked her as well. “It wouldn’t be a bad change of pace to work with someone who had intelligence and skill. Took some pride in their craft.”

She shook her head.

“Ah, well. I’m stuck with those idiots for the time being it seems, though disappearing into the CR chamber for another million years doesn’t seem like a terrible option either.” Her purple optics flicked down to Shadowing.

“I’m probably disturbing you, huh?”

Med Bay

"I have nothing to do at the moment except just lie here. Nothing much to disturb."

Shadowing gave a tired smile.

"I suppose I would not know much of what you are going through. I usually work alone. Still, you should not all yourself to become too frustrated. Might as well try to make the best of it."

Medical Bay

Razorclaw was pleased with most of the responses he got from the various Decepticons within the med bay. Orbitoclast, Motormaster and Knock Out all gave their acknowledgements to his orders, with the Stunticon Commander suggesting to simply get rid of Darkride all together. The lion-former couldn’t blame his brutish ally as the sadistic interrogator was not well liked amongst his own comrades before becoming a herald let alone after. Still, Darkride had his uses just as long as he was completely free from the Fallen’s influence.

Rampage, of course, soon responded from the bridge saying that all things were secured there and the Thanatos was on its way back to the previous lunar orbit it had held upon first arrival at Sol-3. Even Brawl’s rowdy approval of the Predacon lord’s speech was a welcome sight and sound, inciting other 'Cons to join in on the symbolic show of support. There were a few mechs that did not seem to show support for Razorclaw, most notably Starscream and the other seekers that were present in the room. Unfortunately, the lion-former would never have total loyalty, if any at all, from the Seeker Corps, not as long as Starscream wanted the throne for himself. However, they were needed as seekers provided the Empire with air superiority that the Autobots just could not match. Aerialbots be damned.

Naturally, Starscream had a hint of sarcasm in his vocals as he agreed to Razorclaw’s demands to make himself useful elsewhere and quickly left the medical bay, taking with him Lock On and Vertigo. Before leaving, Vertigo complained about his wing having not been fully repaired. “Cry me a river of energon,” the lion-former growled as Lock On told him to give Sixshot a kiss. The duo then entered the corridor beyond as laughter echoed around them. Razorclaw wanted to eviscerate and devour those two seekers right then and there for their insolence. They were clearly mocking his standing as Decepticon leader, more so than most mechs had the ball bearings to do. They had no respect for him at all. However, the Predacon Commander re-framed from such action as it would do nothing more than cast them as martyrs amongst the rest of the seekers, causing far more problems for the new Predacon regime than was necessary.

Razorclaw then cast a stern gaze towards Skywarp and Nightraven as they exited the med bay shortly thereafter. Apparently, a regular seeker convention was now forming in the halls. The lion-former cared little. Based on his own words, Starscream seemed to not care about Sixshot anymore, which was strange as one would think the STAG would be his ace to play when needed. Perhaps his words were simply a red herring to make Razorclaw think that the sixchanger was no longer important to him. Either way, the Predacon lord would be ready. Keeping the throne was of paramount concern as was the ultimate defeat of their enemies, the Autobots.

Finally, a transmission from Onslaught filled Razorclaw’s secured comm line, informing him that Hook was in the maximum security wing with Vortex and Swindle keeping a watchful optic on him. Good, good. That was just what the lion-former wanted to hear. Razorclaw then turned on his heal and made his way over to the med berth the Combaticon Commander was still lying on just as his comrade brought up the idea of creating more combiners from other teams within the Decepticon ranks. Ah, yes, this was one of the many reasons why Onslaught was so important an ally to Razorclaw. The two mechs thought so much alike it was almost scary.

>>”Commander Onslaught, well done, my friend.”<< Razorclaw transmitted over their shared secured comm line, approaching the med berth and looking down at his most loyal supporter. >>”Indeed, I have already considered the possibility of utilizing the combiner process on another group or groups. Your very own Combaticons come to mind, in fact, as do my Predacons. However, we must first learn the process and to do so we need Scrapper’s allegiance, and even then the Constructicons have six members while our teams have only five each. The process must be modified and to do that we will also require the loyalty of Shockwave as I’m almost certain Scrapper and his men must have somehow gotten the gestalt technology from Shockwave’s own files, as he was once Jhiaxus’ pupil. Therefore, we have much to do and little time in which to do it. For now heal, my friend. We will discuss things further very soon. Until then I will be on the bridge if you need me.”<<

As Razorclaw turned and headed for the exit, he looked over in the direction of the Constructicons and the crimson mechanic who was responsible for their repairs. “Knock Out, alert me immediately once Scrapper is restored to full functionality,” the lion-former ordered before his attention shifted to the Predacon fueler. “Tantrum, keep a close optic on Sixshot’s CR chamber. Let me know the instant he awakens or if anyone tampers with his chamber.”

With a nod of understanding, Tantrum walked over and situated himself across from the STAG’s CR unit as the Predacon lord exited the med bay and disappeared from sight.

Corridor outside Med Bay

The sight of Starscream and four seekers greeted the lion-former as the med bay doors closed behind him. Razorclaw eyed the group suspiciously but ultimately let them be. He had far more important things to concern himself with at the moment and he was quite frankly tired of dealing with seekers. Heading in the opposite direction, Razorclaw entered a turbo lift and quickly ascended to the upper command levels of the Thanatos.