The Energon Pub

Lounge


Misfire was upset that the Constructicon had blown him off, and felt lonely. He look around for another face, and heard a sound of scuffling somewhere beside him. He ignored it and got a drink.

Taking a sip, he grimaced. At least Hook was right. Then, Misfire felt something hit his foot, so he gulped down his drink before reaching down to grab....a bullet? Looking up, Misfire saw Feint looking at the bullet in his hand.

Offering the bullet to the sniper, he asked, "Looking for this? You're Feint, right? Here, lemme get you a drink."

Lounge

Feint snatched the bullet from Misfire. "Obviously." He answered in regards to what he was looking for. Then he nodded at the offer of a drink.

He climbed himself up in a seat next to Misfire, looked over at Hook, peered down the bar, tucked away his bullets, then looked under his seat. "Is this thing adjustable?" He muttered feeling a little low.

He found a button that moved the seat hieght, making him much more comfortable.

"And yes, my name is Feint." He said. "Didn’t know I was such a celebrity." His sarcasm was subtle... but noticeable enough."Course I am not up on current events, leadership had me in a short time out for a couple cycles or so... stasis."

Lounge

Misfire smiled and got the smaller bot a drink. Handing it to Feint, he said, "I don't know if you're famous or not, but I have heard of you."

He took a sip of his own drink and gave Feint a half-grin, "what'd you do to get put on ice?"

Lounge

Hook finally looks up from his drink, "For the Decepticon forces the proper word is infamous. And specialist class alt-modes always garner attention. One that requires a partner to function even more so. Some would dismiss your contributions to the cause. But those who do are normally lacking of the higher brain functions of some carbon based lifeforms. Though I would advise you to keep a better inventory of your ammunition." He slides a foot and two shells roll across the floor, "And see Mixmaster for a more powerful payload for them. Solid core may do well versus carbon lifeforms but he can sensitize you a payload to put a prime on his rear carriage."

Lounge

Feint cocked a bit of a crooked grin and raised his glass to Misfire and Hook. "I think I could get to like you boys. Cheers." He said downing his drink. "Next round's on me. I'd like to think myself as infamous, but the rest of the universe hasn't realized that yet." He regarded Hook a moment. "You seem like a fellow who can appreciate my kind, refreshing, I must say. You are right, we are an under appreciated breed."

"But to answer you're question, Misfire, old chap, on my time out, I had a disagreement with my boss. It ended badly... for him, death and all, whatever." He signaled for another drink, before whispering, "Just leave the bottle." To the bartender. "Hook, m'friend, you piqued m'interest."

Feint slid off the seat and retrieved the bullets. "A prime on the rear sounds intriguing, I must say. Though these..." He said holding up the bullets. "Are the toys. Liquid nitrogen... these little slaggers freeze you on impact. Loads of fun to watch a target get his head flash frozen. I got an arsenal of various bullets, and always looking for more." He pulled out another shell. "Titanium cases cobalt." He said. "With my firepower, this baby'll make even Optimus Prime's head explode into a fine shavings."

He looked at Misfire briefly. "You keep your hands off me." He said lowly... then smiled and clapped the Con on the arm. "No seriously... you seem mellow and all, but no shooty with the gun-former, yeah?"

Lounge

Hook nods and orders a simple shot of energon, "I would still advise speaking with Mixmaster and bartering for a upgraded version. His mind is a hive of constant chemical reactions and something to keep his mind focused for a short time. Perhaps in time you're alt-mode may be able to be upgraded to be worthy of the Devestator project."

Lounge


"Perhaps in time you're alt-mode may be able to be upgraded to be worthy of the Devestator project."

"Hey say who-what now? Devastator?" Feint asked Hook having missed the entire battle in Australia, for most of it he was still stuck in stasis, when he was woken, he was not told anything of what had just happened.

"But no, I'm with you on the Mixmaster thing... I love new toys!" He continued. "The more explodey the better. I live for maximum damage."

Lounge

Hook adopts his best smirk, "You'll see it soon I'm sure. He's the best thing to happen to the Decepticons since throwing off the functionalists shackles. As you are now you are loose cannon wrapped in the shell of a surgeons instrument. But as Megatron showed us, we can rise above such things." He sips at his energon, "I don't intend to insult what you may have accomplished thus far. But to give you some idea of options to persue."

Lounge

Feint's optics drifted over to Misfire, looking for some hint if he had information on this Devastator person, as Hook talked about how Devastator improved the Decepticon army. "Don't even get me going on those filthy functionalists." He muttered.

"As you are now you are loose cannon wrapped in the shell of a surgeons instrument. But as Megatron showed us, we can rise above such things."

Feint pondered Hooks words as he swirled his drink.

"I don't intend to insult what you may have accomplished thus far. But to give you some idea of options to persue."


"Oh no, no insults taken." He said finally. "I am a firm believer that there is always room for improvements. One should never feel they are perfection. Though really damn good is okay." He raised his glass again. And muttered a sly 'cheers' before downing yet another drink, then grabbing the bottle and throwing aside the glass. "I just have noooo clue what options you are talking about. .. oh but no worries, lad! I'll figure out this project you're speaking of. Need a refill? How about you, Misfire?"

He smiled a bit wickedly. "A surgeon's instrument... that's quite the compliment actually, I've always been very proud of my alt mode, thank you."

Lounge

Hook chuckles and holds out his cup, "Devestator was unveiled on the dirt ball. Despite our opponent being far beyond any normal bot of our race we were very effective. There are some tweeks to be done."

He quirks a brow, "If you are comfortable with your change into a user reliant weapon have you thought of a sort of side grade to link your alt-mode to its users? Double your power output perhaps?"

Lounge

Feint poured some more Energex into Hook's glass.

"So Devastator is some kind of weapon?"Feint asked. "Cool."

"If you are comfortable with your change into a user reliant weapon have you thought of a sort of side grade to link your alt-mode to its users? Double your power output perhaps?"

"Humm... user reliant?" He mused. "I prefer to do the calculations myself but generally let my shooter aim and pull the trigger. More guide them to the target. I'm very particular about my partner, I like a working relationship that both of us contribute to. Though it's pretty tempting... more output."

Lounge

Misfire shrugged and said, "You can call him a weapon. He's towering, huge. The first Combiner. Hook here and his buddies of the Constructicons combine to form him."

He took a sip of his drink and continued, "He's basically someone who's bad side I wouldn't want to get on."

Lounge

"Combine? Seriously? That's just old folk tales told to pass time." Feint said dismissing Misfire's statement. "Like the Sea of Rust Monster..." He found himself looking at Hook and shaking his head in disbelief. "I may have been out of commission for awhile, but I didn't just roll off the assembly line you know.

Med Bay

Definately Shockwave's work... Thought Shadowing while not being too surprised.

"Power struggles never really end." He said with a sad smile. "The select few battle to have control while the rest fight for them. It is the way of things. All one can hope if that one picked the right side."

Lounge

"Combine? Seriously? That's just old folk tales told to pass time." Feint said dismissing Misfire's statement.

Hook grinned, "Then you might want to rethink that rust monster. The Devastator project was the reimagining and successful integration of my brother and myself into a singular fighting machine of Devastating power. Hence the Devastator project moniker. Granted there are still tweaks I would like to make but the project passed all minimal requirements."

Outside the Med Bay

Starscream looked at Skywarp with a bit of apprehension. Sure, the Seeker had never crossed him, but he was also a bit slow in the cerebral circuits. Could Starscream trust him with the task at hand? Without this very important 1st step, everything else is pointless.

"Alright." he said. "Can you procure a shuttle without being detected, or at least being stopped if someone notices?"

He then looked at Nightraven.

"And you..." he was unsure of this Con, not having been around the newer additions to the Decepticons recently.

But before he could continue, he noticed Vertigo's impatient tapping on the datapad.

"What is it?" Starscream asked.

He was becoming impatient. This plan has been in his mind for a long time and needed to be put into action.

Outside Med Bay

"What is it?" Starscream asked.

"Feedback, sir." Vertigo said to Starscream despite his hero worship of Starscream, he did not like to be ignored, meaning he would make sure he got Starscream's attention. "His major systems have been repaired..." A beeping sound softly alerted him to another development. "But it seems the cr chamber is malfunctioning a bit."

Shockwave's Lab

As the cr chamber did it's job, finishing the repairs that Psychout had started. It had woken him up somewhat, but Feedback was still only in a semi-conscious state, barely aware, but aware enough that he felt... upside down.

His hand hit something hard. His brain somewhat registering that he was trapped in something. He started hitting the glass of the cr chamber... slowly hitting it harder and harder and harder, still nowhere near online, only running enough to know he was in a very small space.

The Lounge

The Devastator project was the reimagining and successful integration of my brother and myself into a singular fighting machine of Devastating power.

"Seriously? Wha?" Feint asked in disbelief. Either this was a very elaborate rouse or they were being truthful. Either way, he was pretty stunned. "Do you understand what that means?" It was mostly rhetorical, his question, obviously both Hook and Misfire had very clear understandings of the ramifications of combination... sheer power.

Medical Bay

“Nevermind, Brawl. You just do whatever it is you do in your free time.”

Okay. That was it. Brawl's energon was dangerously close to boiling point. The snobby loner had the nerve to try to tell him what to do only to dismiss him like he was beneath him. Granted, Blast-Off did rub plenty of people the wrong way. But to do so with Brawl without other Combaticons around? That was playing with fire. Mostly because Brawl was an idiot. A very violent and anger-prone idiot.

As Blast-Off turned to leave, Brawl was already taking the first step in series of actions which would have him run down his annoying teammate and deliver some good old fashioned clobbering time down upon the haughty space warrior.

Instead, Blast-Off stopped and said something completely unexpected. Something that gave a pause to Brawl's anger for long enough for him to cancel his chosen course of action.

“Actually, Brawl…perhaps you’d like to join me in a drink?”

”You want to drink with me?!” The Combaticon brute blurted out in obvious bewilderment, the gleam of his optical visor brightening, ”That's the best idea I have heard the whole cycle!”

Wrapping his arm around Blast-Off's neck in a friendly headlock, Brawl began steering Blast-Off out of the med bay before stopping on the corridor, looking around in confusion. This sure wasn't the Obliteration. ”Uh? Which way?!”

Lounge.

Nope, he just couldn't do it any more. It had felt like forever that he had sat there listening to this mundane droning around him in the bar, and silence did not feature highly on Swindles extensive resume. Listening, however, was at least... two thirds of the way up.

He cast a quick glance towards Vortex who was currently the living embodiment of his name, complete personality vacuum the munitions merchant thought to himself. Taking the lead here is an understatement...

He had Misfire who, as his name suggested, was potentially one of his best repeat customers. Feint who appeared to Transform into an actual GUN and Hook - claiming to be the architect of the living embodiment of destruction, Devastator. Game on.

He motioned to the bartender who was hovering over him like a scraplet round an empty, and handed over Blast-Off's ident chip to open up a tab. He held aloft four fingers and, almost instantly, 4 small drinks appeared on the polished but dented bartop.

Now... he pondered. Which one of these chumps has the biggest credit balance and the smallest neural processor...

He addressed the three barfliers in his centuries-refined tone of 'making conversation for no reason whatsoever and nothing to do with making a profit, honest';
"So, you three know all about bullets then? Lets all play a game..."

He slid three of the shot glasses across the bar towards his new best friends, but not before he had pulled out three individual rounds and placed one in each, and a fourth in his own.

"Drink up. Anyone who can tell me what the round I've given you is, from just the taste it leaves in the drink without touching the bullet, wins."

Lounge

Swindle... Slag it. If anyone made Feint even more nervous than Misfire did it was Swindle. Swindle would likely sell Feint before he even had a chance to protest.

And then the drink slid in front of him. Seriously? A bullet?

He looked over at Swindle with a 'You're slagging kidding me, right?' look as the munitions expert explained the game.

"Really?" He finally asked. "Really....?"

Med-Bay

"No no no!" Mixmaster interjected. "Don't bother Scrapper with this slag. He was just here. If we can't function without him for five breems we're not ever gonna get let loose with Devastator again."

He thought about Long Haul's answer as he took the cylinder of liquid. He didn't need any sort of external equipment to analyze what Long Haul had ingested: he was a walking chemical factory.

"Oh good grief, Bones. It's plain ol' nitrogen. Liquified. Hardly delicious, but hardly poisonous either. He'll be fine," the Constructicon Chemical Engineer said, handing the drink, or whatever was left of it, back. His optics focused in on Long Haul.

"But I know what ya mean. It was awesome! Like...literally. Best I've ever felt, heheheh. I hope we get to do it again soon. And we will, if we don't suddenly become Stunticon stooges."
___

Lounge

Once they had made it to the lounge, Vortex was content for a bit to just take things in. None of the other Constructicons were here, so they were still following Onslaught's orders. Hook had made himself a little friend and Swindle, well, he was probably about too Swindle the whole bar out of half their shanix.

Vortex decided to take a seat at the far end of the bar and tapped the counter a couple times, staying well clear of Swindle's little game.

"Engex. Triple-filtered. No mixers."

Lounge

Hook looks at the shot with the bullet, "I'm afraid master of the scheme that I am not seeking to add any more volatile substances to my system at this time." He turns to Feint his superior smug look on his face, "It means for now. When we are together the Constructicons are the most powerful weapon on this ship. A paradigm shift of the same degree as when the first bot devised the way to transform."

Med-Bay:

Bonecrusher felt like an idiot when he realized that it was just liquid nitrogen that Hauly drank. "Well, I guess I'll just go back to having a drink rather than trying to embarrass myself by playing doctor." Bonecrusher stormed out of the room and headed up towards the Lounge.

Lounge:

When Bonecrusher headed into the Lounge, he then stopped at the door, realizing that Hook and the Combaticons were having a drink in there. "Uhh do I go in and play cool and act like Devatator didn't happen, or do I just walk away like a coward and think about how much I hate Combaticons?" Bonecrusher asked himself.

Then, Bonecrusher realized how noisily he went to the doorway, so he knew they already knew he was there. "Oh what the heck?" said Bonecrusher, "I'm a Constructicon, it'd be nice to see Hook. As long as all of us Constructicons are not in the same room, it should be fine."

Bonecrusher then walked into the Lounge and leaned against the counter next to Vortex, the only Combaticon he slightly trusted. "Well, if it isn't the bombardier brothers!" said Bonecrusher, as he was trying to keep his cool, "Hey Hook, you having a good time no?" He then said to the bartender, "I'll be having the same thing as Vortex." Bonecrusher then smirked as he turned his head towards Swindle's direction, "still being as untrustworthy as always I presume?"

Briefing Room

Razorclaw was pleased when Flamewar told him that she would help to convince Shockwave to change Sixshot’s shutdown code. It was exactly what he wanted to hear, but could the Predacon lord fully trust this femme who had been loyal to Megatron for so long? That was yet to be seen, but if she did successfully aid him with the one-eyed scientist then that would go a long way in securing his compete trust in her. Still, Sixshot was only one thing the lion-former needed to discuss with Shockwave. Devastator was another along with the possibility of creating more gestalts out of some of the other specialty units. There was little doubt in Razorclaw’s mind that it was Shockwave’s research the Constructicons used to help them succeed where so many others had failed since the days of Jhiaxus. The Predacon lord would get confirmation soon when he spoke to Scrapper and then move forward accordingly. But, one thing at a time.

Of course, trusting Shockwave was another matter. Even Flamewar was quick to point out that the purple Decepticon had his own agenda. However, as long as it coincided with Razorclaw’s there would be no problems. According to the black operative there was more for Shockwave to gain with supporting the lion-former then there was to lose. Still, Razorclaw had to be cautious. One wrong move and the throne could be taken away from him as quickly as he could draw out his sword. He and the other specialty units had worked too hard to simply let the power of the Empire slip through their actuators. Only the miraculous return of Megatron, himself, would give Razorclaw just cause to relinquish the throne now.

“Excellent, my dear,” the Predacon lord replied to Flamewar as he kept his optics locked on hers. Before he could say more, she approached him, resting a hand ever so gently on his forearm before moving away. The lion-former glanced briefly down at the gesture and then back up to meet her optics once more. She seemed to be using her feminine traits in an attempt to gain some kind of advantage over him, trying to relate more to his softer side. Too bad Razorclaw didn’t have a soft side at all to speak of. It wasn’t that the Predacon Commander lacked any type of attraction or desires towards the femme persuasion. He was simply not the romantic sort, but instead a warrior and leader first and foremost, more in tune with violence and death than with emotions or love.

“I have no intention of completely trusting Shockwave,” Razorclaw continued, choosing to ignore Flamewar’s minor advances for the time being. If it became more of an issue in the future he would deal with it then to ensure she understood her position within the new Predacon regime. “But I also have no intention of stopping him from working on his various projects. In fact, I aim to help him in any way that I can. Of course, I will only do so just as long as those projects don’t threaten my hold on the throne. He will have my support as long as I have his. There’s more than just Sixshot at stake here, and I will need his scientific expertise in those other areas sooner rather than later.”

Razorclaw paused for a moment to let his words sink in. “As for accompanying me, I’m afraid I will need you to head to Shockwave’s lab as soon as this briefing in over with. There’s no time to waste. Sixshot must be freed of Starscream’s grasp ASAP. Meanwhile, I still must have a talk with Scrapper, and I’m not certain how long that will take. It all depends on how our conversation goes. While I’m handling the Constructicon Commander, I need you to facilitate a meeting with Shockwave. Feel free to fill him in on what we have discussed already regarding the STAG, and then I will arrive down in his lab to speak with him further once I am through with things here.”

The Predacon lord could’ve ordered Shockwave to leave his lab and come directly to Razorclaw on the bridge in order to discuss things. Instead, the lion-former felt it was best to talk with Shockwave on the scientist’s own turf. Primarily, the Decepticon leader wanted to witness for himself what the purple mech was currently up to in his secretive laboratory. Not that Razorclaw would fully understand everything he would see, but at least it was better than not knowing anything at all. Plus, the Predacon Commander did not feel that it was necessary to disrupt the one-eyed scientist’s work more than he had to. It would hopefully show as a sign of good faith if the logic-driven mechanoid even cared about such things.

“However, before you leave, Flamewar, there is one more thing we need to discuss,” Razorclaw said as he leaned back against the edge of the table in the center of the room. “It has been brought to my attention that the Autobot Battleship Trion has very recently arrived within the Sol System. I do not know what exact circumstances brought it here, but according to the latest DSS files that I’ve read, it was not due to depart the Alpha Shipyards for at least another orn. Being that you are a black operative, I was wondering if you have any further information regarding the Trion’s abrupt appearance ahead of schedule? Also, any and all data on the warship’s capabilities, whether already known or not, would be of great use to me as the Autobots now have a vessel that can challenge the Thanatos. As a result, we must take the appropriate precautions.”

Razorclaw kept his optics fixated on Flamewar as the glow from the lunar surface outside the window behind him cast his ominous shadow across the floor towards the black operative. The Predacon lord had much on his mind with little time in which to act. Between freeing the phase sixer from Starscream’s control, there was Thunderwing, Devastator, the Trion and even the arrival of the Burning Justice, one of Scorponok’s destroyers. Up to this point, the lion-former had not decided when to announce his ascension to the throne to the rest of the Empire outside of the Sol System. He needed to first amass enough support and power to ensure that he could defend against any mech that would challenge his claim. If Scorponok found out too soon before Razorclaw was ready then the throne would likely not be his for much longer.

Would that be such a bad thing, though? Razorclaw thought inwardly, wishing again for the days of old when he was just the Predacon Commander and did not have the weight of the entire Empire resting on his shoulder plates. But this is what he wanted. This is what he fought so hard to achieve.

Be careful what you wish for....

Lounge

Misfire went silent and listened to the two talk. Besides, Hook would know more than he would about combining and Devastator, seeing as he formed a part of the gestalt. Then he slinked into the shadows when the Combaticons walked in. Ugh, those brutes. So he sat back and watched, keeping an eye on them.