The Energon Pub

FarStar

Afterburner gave a slight jump at the pressure of Scattershot’s hand on his shoulder. Even me? I’m not the one that ran away… He kept his thoughts to himself, getting a compliment from Scattershot was random and unexpected. He’d take what little appreciation he could. Besides, Scattershot was probably indulging in too much energon

When he turned from his station his optics settled on the ruins of their bridge. Until then he’d been more concerned with blowing the Cons from the sky to care about what else happened. For once he felt some admiration for his leader. The feeling was fleeting and he didn’t feel the need to concern himself with it much further. Like everything else it’d pass.

"Nosecone, take Afterburner and head down to the Emergency Bouy Rooms on Deck 4. I want them reinforced for the stresses of this planet for long duration exposure. That means radiation and hard weapons fire. And make sure they are equiped with artificial Gravity Field sensors. Once those modifications are complete, report to me directly."

He was right, the feeling passed. “You miserable glitch. I’ll shove those field sensors down your--” He was shoved through the destroyed doorway before he could finish his thought. "Alright, I'm going." He didn;t even notice who guided him off of the bridge.

Farstar Bridge

Nosecone nodded to Scattorshot and it seemed he had taken his idea, but simply said no. Instead, Scattorshot ordered Nosecone to take Afterburner to the Emergency Bouy Rooms on Deck 4 to reinforce them for exposure to Radiation and the Decepticons bombarding them constantly.

"Lets get those things reinforced." Nosecone said calmly and walked out of the room, knowing Afterburner was behind him.

Farstar Corridors

Nosecone walked calmly, but assertively, to Emergency Bouy Room No. 1. Frankly, he didn't know how to configure those Artificial Gravity thingies. He would let Afterburner do that.

The Folassian Forest

Treadshot snickered at Lockdown’s words. One would think that the Decepticon’s greatest tracker wouldn’t be stopped by something like this. Of course the rain was likely to be somewhat toxic, perhaps enough to interfere even with his elite scanners. Still, it was a great disappointment. This whole little venture was turning in to quite a bust.

“If we ever get a mission worthwhile,” he replied. “All I’ve done on this miserable rock is stand around and look at the local vegetation. I’m getting tempted to just get back in my ship and head out for some other assignment. They’ve pretty much steamrolled the Autobots so far, and if they keep up with that strategy they don’t need my more skilled and subtle techniques.”

Farstar – Bridge

The bridge was once again rocked by powerful explosions that sent an electrical discharge throughout the various terminals. Strafe’s own station shorted out, as well, sending sparks flying directly at him. He managed to bring his arms up in time to shield his optics from the brunt of the blazing display, leaving only very minor singe marks behind on his armored plating. A ceiling panel then landed next to him as wiring and thick cables fell down around him. Another blast erupted near the entrance way, taking the life of an unfortunate mech that happened to be entering the bridge at the wrong time. Poor bastard.

Realizing that the weapons controls were destroyed, Strafe was about to stand from his chair when he felt the calming hand of Scattershot on his shoulder, commending both him and Afterburner for doing a good job. “All in a cycle’s work, Commander,” the aerial gunner replied with a forced smile. While it was always nice to receive praise from any commanding officer, there wasn’t much else to be happy about considering the current situation they all found themselves in.

Scattershot then removed his hand and pivoted around to address the pilots before returning his attention back to Strafe once he was finished. The anxious Technobot listened carefully to everything his leader had to say, nodding at the appropriate moments. “Of course, sir, I’ll get right on it,” Strafe replied as he finally stood from his chair. He immediately opened a comm line to the mech that was to aid him in his task:

>>”Tonka, this is Strafe. Meet me at the escape pods on Deck 3 in one breem. We need to run a complete diagnostic on all of the units per Scattershot’s orders.”<<

Once the message was sent, Strafe carefully stepped over and around the debris that littered the bridge and passed by the burnt out remains of Tiran. I barely knew him, the aerial gunner thought as he exited the bridge and made his way to Deck 3.

Farstar – Deck 3

A short time later, Strafe arrived at his destination and was not surprised to see that he was alone to begin his task. Tonka was nowhere in sight and had not even bothered to respond to his previous communiqué. Slaggin’ lazy good for nothing… Strafe thought as he approached the first of the emergency escape pods.

Not wanting to waste time searching the ship for the cowardly mech, the aerial gunner accessed the control panel on the side of the pod before pulling out a small diagnostic scanner from subspace. He quickly connected the device into the designated port, allowing it to tap directly into the pod’s primary systems. Strafe then initiated a full analytical scan to ensure that the escape unit was functioning at optimal levels. The results came back within a half-breem, indicating that everything was in the green.

“Good,” Strafe muttered as his disconnected the scanner and moved on to the next pod a short distance away where he then repeated the same process. “Of course, this would go a lot faster if I had some help!” The aerial gunner’s comment turned into a shout just as Tonka happened to appear from around a corner, walking at a gingerly pace towards him. “Well, well, look who finally decided to show up! Nice of you to join me.”

“Sorry. I was…busy,” the small green ‘Bot replied sheepishly.

“Yeah, you were busy all right, busy hiding,” Strafe replied, not wanting to hear his excuses. “Now, get to work on the escape pods down at that end while I finish up with these. Think you can handle that?”

“Yes, sir,” Tonka responded with a nod before moving towards his designated pods.

That mech needs a serious reprogramming, Strafe thought as he finished running a diagnostic scan on the second escape pod. Everything checked out and thus the aerial gunner moved on to a third, duplicating the same process once again.

FarStar - Emergency Bouy Room 1

Somehow during the exchange with Scattorshot, Afterburner discovered he “agreed” on his assigned task. Of course it took him most of the journey through the shaking and, in some cases, blackened corridors to accept the fact. At least the damage he could see looked ot be mostly superficial. The last thing he needed was to be sucked out of the Farstar and into orbit over some forsaken planet.

Following behind Nosecone he wondered how did any of the others look themselves in the optic every day? Surely they realized how ridiculous they sounded by blindly obeying Scattorshot‘s orders? Then again he doubted any of them had the higher processor needed for such things. All things considered at least he got the chance to bash some Decepticon regularly.

Once they arrived at the Emergency bouy room Afterburner paused looking around. This was the work for a maintenance bot, not one of his warrior caliber. He supposed this one time he’s do as Scattorshot wanted, at least he wasn’t alone in his endeavor.

Assuming he understood what was required of them, everything they needed was off to the side of the room in a storage compartment. Motioning towards the compartment turned to Nosecone, “They’re in there, give me a hand.” Of course he would allow Nosecone to feel productive and handle a majority of the work. Afterburner was many things but unfair wasn’t one of them.

Farstar Emergency Buoy Room 1

Nosecone looked at Afterburner when he was spoken to, nodded briefly and walked over and opened the compartment, revealing many supplies that Nosecone picked up for the most part, leaving a small amount for Afterburner to pick up.

"Where do you need them?" Nosecone asked as sparks suddenly flew from a wall, pelting him.

He maintained calm, as usual and he looked about the room to make sure that the room maintained it's structural integrity. The supplies were still light nevertheless and Nosecone was having no trouble with holding them while Afterburner took his merry sweet time.

Farstar Bridge

“On it,” Lightspeed had said simply, bringing the ship’s thrusters back down to quarter speed as their captain had ordered. At this point, he was amazed that the ship was still responding as well as it was, given the beating that they had already taken.

It took some smooth navigating, since the elemental content of this planet didn't appear to be overly hospitable to either them or their equipment, but Lightspeed eventually moved the ship in to the variable orbit within the upper atmospheric strata of the jovian planet. He could still register the energy bursts of the Decepticons’ weapons, but the impacts with their shields had noticeably decreased. If they connected now, it would be attributed to luck as much as anything.

Taking a moment, Lightspeed quickly got up from his station and went over to one of the damaged panels and began restoring connections that had been severed. It wouldn’t do any good for him to be manning the bridge if no one on the other decks of the Farstar could communicate with him, or he them. They needed all the advantages they could get if they wanted to avoid any more casualties.

>>”If you’re gonna drop those buoys, you’re not gonna get a much better shot at it,”<< Lightspeed commed in to the other Technobots, dropping back in to his chair and checking the ship’s orbital position one last time, factoring in the typical propulsion speed of such devices.

Lightspeed then brought up the last tracking data the Farstar had observed with the Rancor’s flight pattern and trajectory. The Decepticons were going to have a hard time finding them for now, but the downside to that strategy was that they too were effectively flying blind for the time being. Lightspeed intended to minimize that negative as best he could.

Once he got word that the buoys were clear, he’d take a little more decisive action with the pilot’s chair.

Fortress Tenebrous

"Yes...once this storm ends, we can explore these supposed tunnels and see where they lead, and who they lead us to. We will certainly require your unique brand of potency then, Shrapnel."

Bombshell's response excited Shrapnel. A bolt of thunder erupted from the growing storms and a lance of lightning exploded across the sky, and the Insecticon warrior grinned and shivered in anticipation.

As the Insecticons approached the new Decepticon fortress, Shrapnel's walking speed quickly increased so he passed his fellows. The sight of the towering behemoth that served as their planet-side base had just made him even more eager- it made the fight he knew was coming seem even closer. As he approached the base of the fortress, however, he slowed to almost a stop as his audio receptors picked up some excited chatter from a small congregation of Decepticon grunts gathered a short ways away. Shrapnel suddenly froze in place. He could have sworn he heard them say- yes, there it was again.

He slowly stepped up behind the group and leaned in so his head protruded into the circle. "Excuse me, me," he interrupted. The grunts nearly jumped in surprise when he spoke, it was clear they had been so engrossed in their conversation they had not noticed him. Nevertheless, it was obvious they noticed him now, none of them were speaking anymore, and all their optics were trained on him. "It sounded to me like you were talking about a space fight, space fight. And I could have sworn I heard you say the Pestilence was involved, involved. Is this true, true?"

None of the grunts seemed like they wanted to respond; they clearly recognized the bot that was speaking to them. Shrapnel frowned at their silence, it was times like these his reputation frustrated him. He was a little surprised when one Decepticon pushed through the others and responded.

"Yeah, that's right. The Pestilence and the Rancor got in a fight with some Autobot ship that warped in just off-planet," the Con said. He held himself in a way that told Shrapnel that he wasn't afraid of the Insecticon. "I just got word from Sonicstorm and decided I'd run out here and let everyone know."

Shrapnel turned away and began to think. The grunt's air of arrogance slightly frustrated him, but that was unimportant right now. The Pestilence was in a fight with an Autobot vessel? That could mean Venom might want the Insecticons back at the ship for a boarding party, or to aid in the fight. But if the Insecticon leader hadn't tried to contact his subordinates by now, that probably wasn't the case. Besides, Shrapnel thought, Venom could handle it on his own. And if he couldn't, Shrapnel chuckled to himself, that wasn't a problem either. The Decepticon beetle began jogging through the muck and rain in the direction he came from; Bombshell and Kickback had reached the walls and were watching Shrapnel, no doubt waiting to hear what the excitement was all about.

Once Shrapnel reached the others, he explained the situation. There was likely no reason to leave their current path, but Shrapnel made sure it was clear that he was perfectly satisfied with either choice- after all, each one promised him a worthy fight.

Farstar - Main Engineering

Scattershot pulled a data tablet from the internal turbolift wall. His thumb and energy signature immediately reconfigured the tablet to a steady data stream of damage reports, casualties and other various facts he required before he could finalize this rather insane gambit of his. He pressed himself into the information as rapidly as the turbolift descended down from the bridge to the Main Engineering Deck.

The lights were dimmed through the filter of rolling bands of smoke and acidic corrosions that wafted through the air. The stench of coolant and fuel added to the mix and caused Scattershot to stagger briefly before he activated his own internal filtration systems. Grabbing one of the emergency beacons from the charging strip along the wall, the Technobot commander ventured further into the Klaxon shrouded chambers.

In between the blares of the emergency sirens the interdispersed bursts of fire suppression cannisters filled the gaps... it was an utter cacophany that assaulted his audio receptors. A place that had become yet another tribute to the war that raged across the galaxy, and Scattershot had grown to appreciate the coordinated efforts that surrounded him unseen to manage the chaos.

Scattershot pushed passed a group of emergency repair crews desperately working to replace the connections on a secondary weapons control terminal that helped manage the forward batteries incase the bridge had become incompacitated... Scattershot always imagined that little redundancy as a euphamisim for Bridge got Blowed to Hell. He waved his palm torch to help illuminate their work briefly, at least long enough for them to find a torch of their own, then turned back towards the center rear of the deck.

"Trybium." Scattershot called out as he approached a trio of Transformers who were huddled around the last working holo console in the area. His foot crunched over a patch of broken glass, creating the effect of causing all three of those engineers to turn their attention towards him over his actual summons.

"Commander..." Trybium, a lime green minibot, broke free from the three other mechanisms and offered a brisk salute. "Sorry bout the mess round here, but we weren't exactly expecting visitors." The engineer squeezed forward and stopped a few metrics from falling off the elevated platform. His tools clanged and rattled against the titanium surface of the safety rails. "Could have brought us some more punch for the party sir."

"Thats funny Trybium..." A similarly built female engineer pressed against the back of the engineering chief. Her voice soothed the situation, which Scattershot surmised was more because of her occupation prior to the war as a lounge singer in Altihex. Of course her other talents were a bit more developed off stage, but Scattershot repressed the smirk as Tybrium pushed his spark sister, Vestra, back. "Touchy touchy. You could be a little less goofy and try to take the situation in stride... just like our brave commander."

"Enough you two." Scattershot raised his hand before the conversation could turn to something more personal... as it often did with those two Autobots. Great engineers, lousy social tact. "Report."

"Oh I'm good... just a little scrape on my elbo..." A glare from his commanding officer and a slap across the back of the head cut the engineering chief off. "Fine fine... for the most part Farstar is bruised, battered and all in all cluster fracked. Rear shield generators are strained to the point of collapse, two more shots and we'd be vapor. At least we're able to give them a must deserved recharge time before who knows what happens next."

Scattershot shook his head, "What about the Transwarp drive? Can we use it?"

Scrape, the third mechanism looked up from the console and shook his head. "She's functional... but barely. Even if we could get it operational it'd only be a few microseconds before it fails. The engines themselves were damaged so generating a transwarp field is theoretically possible, we couldn't stabilize it."

"Not to mention the facts that with the Interdiction field in effect, we're stranded. We even try to make a run for it to the outer system..." Vestra shivered.

Scattershot was painfully aware of all that was transpiring around them. They were outgunned, out manned and outclassed at every step of the way. He hated to admit it, the facts were staring him straight in the face plate. They were in the midst of a total invasion of Nebulos by the Decepticons and he was at the disadvantage of being given only this vessel to counter it... well this vessel and his knack for getting out of tougher jams than this. "There is one possibility." A fourth female appeared from underneath a blown out console that regulated environmental controls throughout the ship. The female summersaulted down from her position and tackled Scattershot with a crazy grin. She giggles briefly before she pulled herself up off the ground and brushed herself clear of dust and grime she had accumulated while working on the repairs.

"River... I was beginning to wonder where you disappeared to. I thought you'd be at your station in the Infirmary." Scattershot shrugged as he looked down at the female silouette imprinted along the lower half of his chestplate. He snatched a rag from one of the took carts as it rolled passed. "Nevermind the excuses. If we can't use the generator to power our engines out at sufficient velocities to break the Gravity Field, as well as avoid that damned orbital blockade... then I really don't have time for it."

River feigned a pout before placing her knuckles on her hips and waving her left finger. "Tisk tisk commander. I've seen the sensor reports, even before we got shot to slag. Besides I am sure my Beloved can handle the yolk of this ship... regardless of the stresses we put on it." She shook her head briefly before walking over to the elevated platform and confiscating the data tablet that was in Vestra's hand. "The idea is simple. We do what he did on Claraza. Only instead of using a tidal based wave system and a sea of liquid, we use our Transwarp generator as the catalyst." She plugged in a series of calculations and handed the results to the engineering chief.

"A result of which would burn out our transwarp drive and send a few tetratons of planetary matter spraying off into the ether. No thanks..." Scrape responded as he peered over his twin's shoulder.

"Its not like we've got better options. Look Scrape, if we don't find a way to get out of here in a hurry, we don't create cover for any escape attempt we'll be blown out of the atmosphere the moment they detect our energy signature."

Scattershot pondered briefly. "Surf the wave hmm. Add that to the overall tactic, it might just give us the element we need to give our chance of survivability to sixty three percent..."

"Still not the best odds there Commander."

"No, but at this point I'll take 'em. Alright Tybrium I want your teams to focus on rigging the transwarp engines to create a static warp bubble. That should be our springboard. Modify the generator to create the necessary transwarp field with gravity bubble... and that will be our slingshot. Vestra, the remaining energies are to get the weapons systems back online... especially the primary forward cannon. River... River...?"

River stared at the internal comm screen that had flared back to life. "Hi honey... ya miss me Lightspeed? I'll be with you soon." Scattershot could not help but slap his forehead.

"Forget it, we've lost her again. Scrape get those Bounce devices online. I want permanent locks on every individual of this ship. Reinforce the entire power supply and system if you have to... time is too critical to have them fail on us."

Fortress Tenebrous

“Oh slag?” Apeface grunted, somewhat confused as he pushed himself up from the comforting depths of the oil bath and stepped on to the floors of the fortress again. It probably wasn’t the greatest sight, dripping black fluid on the floor like he was, but he didn’t really care either. Who was going to say something about it?

“You mean ‘oh slag yeah!’ right?” the Horrorcon added. From everything he had heard, the Decepticons had pretty much trounced the Autobots from one side of the planet to the other. On top of that, he hadn’t been able to enjoy any of it personally, save for that pitiful attempt at bravado at the Capital Dome. Apeface had been itching for another opportunity to crush a few more Autobots. From the sounds of it, he just might have his chance. On the other hand, he wasn’t holding out much hope that Snapdragon would join him in the chaotic festivities. Nothing short of the arrival of Optimus Prime was likely to drag him out of the oil pits at this point.

Apeface transformed in to his bot mode as he walked toward the main entrance, allowing the fresh oil to wind its way through every joint and crevice.

“Hey Apes, not only a battle brewin’ up there somewhere,” another Decepticon said, before pointing towards the exterior boundaries of the fortress. “But it looks like we got company, too.”

Apeface scanned further outward, even as the rainstorm continued to drench the surrounding area. The little grunt was right. Not only had the bug-a-cons returned, but it looked as if the little green men weren’t far behind, either.
___

As the line of Nebulan transports closed in on the foreboding fortress that the Decepticons had established on their home world, Galen felt as if the rain was beginning to pour even harder. He attempted to peer through one of the oval-shaped windows but there was little to see, apart from the almost blinding sheets of rain against the darkened, gray backdrop. Every so often, he would catch a glimpse of the large, metallic creatures as they went about whatever it was they had come here to do. That, among other things, was something that Galen had intended to find out: he and the Council of Peers had effectively acquiesced their rights to sovereignty for the time being, he wanted to know what for.

As the transports came to a halt and the various Peer Councilors began emerging, lightning flashed overhead like it had many times before on their trek here, causing another massive crash of thunder. On any other occasion, the Councilors would have been swarmed by aides, tending to their needs and ensuring that they stayed dry. In this case, only the Council of Peers had been requested by the Decepticons. Many within the ranks of the World Watchers had thought it wise not to test the Decepticons at this stage by presenting them with more than what they had asked for. Galen had been inclined to agree. This time.

With wind whipping through their hair and rain pelting against their garments, the Council of peers walked the short distance between their transports and Fortress Tenebrous. Several of the metal men stared down at them silently, their eyes glowing eerily. But they did not move to block their path, and so the Nebulans continued onward. The huge, blackened steel doors began to grind as they moved out of the way for the approaching group. Several of the Peer Councilors covered their ears to buffer the noise as they stepped forward in to what must be some sort of assembly hall for the beings, as there were more of them gathered in here than there had been outside.

Many within the ranks of the council were now looking to him to make the next move as they stood there, rain dripping steadily from their thoroughly drenched bodies. Galen stepped forward, smoothing the folds of his silver and black tunic as best he could before taking a deep breath.

“The Council of Peers has arrived, as demanded by your Vice Commander, Turmoil,” Galen said, speaking loudly, using the same voice that he normally would to address the Council as a whole back at the Capital Dome.

FarStar - Emergency Bouy Room 1

So this is how Scattorshot feels? I could get used to this. Afterburner enjoyed the feeling that swelled in him when Nosecone did as he was instructed. Sure of himself he waited for his fellow Technobot to take the bulk of equipment then hefted the remaining few making it appear as though they strained his circuits. Best to look the part, he thought proudly as he turned to follow his partner.

"Where do you need them?" Nosecone asked as sparks suddenly flew from a wall, pelting him.

Afterburner’s swollen pride lessoned just a tad as he looked at his fellow mech. For the first time since coming online he was speechless. The portable generators suddenly felt heavy in his hands. Being devoured by scraplets couldn’t be this painful. He owed the Cons and Scattorshot for this one.

It only took a pair of astroseconds for Afterburner to recall the data from the depths of his processor, unfortunately the information was slightly scrambled. With the information he smiled, “It’s simple. Right over here.” With a determination he turned towards the wall and the power conduit. “Connect them to each conduit thusly.” He opened a small socket and inserted the prongs from his generator. The surge of power shot up his arm and knocked him backwards onto his backside. When the pulse slowed in his cranial unit the previously scrambled information corrected itself.

Feeling embarrassed but refusing to show it he motioned to Nosecone, “Be sure to attach them to the proper poles.”

Fortress Tenebrous

Boredom and hunger. The two injected similar impressions into Bomb-Burst's disposition, evolving his mild annoyance into a considerable degree of vexation. This planet's sun was the main culprit behind it, forbidding Bomb-Burst from engaging in his usual proclivities whenever he pleased. He had been involved in the conquests of many planets prior to arriving on Nebulos where the absence or limited presence of a sun permitted him the liberty to act in whatever fashion he so desired.

But not here. Here, most of his activities were relegated to the period where the darkness consumed what was left of the sunlight, leaving Bomb-Burst to finally emerge from Fortress Tenebrous and celebrate the night's youth. He did harbour an intense resentment towards Nebulos' rotation cycles, but it was well out of his power to adjust it to his liking. So he improvised as best he could and exploited all advantages that fell before him.

That, and ran rampant during the nights to make up for lost time.

Bomb-Burst's wanderings came to a halt as a combination of foul voices assaulted his audio receptors. It wasn't difficult to recognise who they belonged to; the difficulty lay in the attempt to elude these two. Everywhere he went, he discovered the unwelcome appearance of the Horrorcons. But for the first time Bomb-Burst didn't seek refuge in the shadows or produce one of his many swift departures from them. The dialogue being exchanged between the Horrorcons and some Decepticon grunt evoked his curiosity far more than he had expected.

Once the conversation came to an end, Bomb-Burst followed Apeface closely, but not close enough for him to feel that someone was in pursuit. Not immediately, anyway.

Fortress Tenebrous

From a sheltered spot near the base entrance, Skullgrin watched the Horrorcons and Insecticons arriving at the gate. He wasn't long back himself, just long enough to find, as he'd predicted, there was nothing for him to do. The planet was essentially theirs, so a siege specialist like himself was now suplus to requirement, unless any of the organics or any surviving autobots had dug themselves into a fortress somewhere. And with the fleet overhead, it was unlikely his more...precise touch would be nessecary.

[These fools! Grrraagh! I'm wasted!!]

Ignoring the arrival of Galen and the other Nebulans, he smirked at Apeface. "Are you thinking of flying up to space to punch the Autobot ship, Horrorcon? Are you that desperate for a fight? Unless its an entire fleet, there'll be nothing left for you by the time you get up there. Have a little...selfcontrol. It'll do wonders for your disposition."

[Says a mech that has too much. Why won't you release me?]

Because I don't intend to lose to you.

Farstar Emergency Buoy 1

Nosecone nodded gruffly to Afterburner and began to slowly but precisely began to plug each of the prongs into the correct poles. It was then that Afterburner was shocked; Nosecone made his way over to him and helped his fellow Technobot up.

"Shocking," Nosecone said with pun intended, "Simply shocking."

He then walked back over to the console and continued placing the wires.

"You know, if we get out of this in one piece, you'd gotta admit, that'd be great decisions on Scattorshot's part." Nosecone said as he placed another prong into it's corresponding socket.

Farstar—Bridge

Lightspeed was keeping a close and careful optic on the ship’s sensors. This Jovian storm wasn’t doing them a whole lot of favors, other than masking their position from the cadre of Decepticon warships that were eagerly awaiting the opportunity to finish them off. They couldn’t hide in here forever. If the Decepticons didn’t finish them off, the environment would.

If Lightspeed was going to go out, he wanted to go out at the end of worthy battle against their Decepticon foes, not hiding from them. He suspected the other Technobots felt the same. Fortunately, Scattershot had issued orders along those lines before he left to tend to whatever damage the ship had sustained thus far.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t really carry out those orders under the ship’s traditional technical specifications. They were going to have to play scientist with some of the raw materials they had available to them and think of more creative ways to use them.

Then Lightspeed was going to have to hold on to the reins after they did.

”River, you don’t look any worse for wear,” Lightspeed said, tapping the surface off the commscreen good-naturedly. “Wish I could say the same for this ship. We’ve been through a lot, but I don’t know how much left’s she’s got in her.”

The ship rocked as another incendiary missile detonated just a few kliks away from their current position. A wave of flames brushed the outer edges of the ship’s starboard side.

“If you guys are doing or working on something uber technical down there, now would be a really really good time to, I don’t know, make it happen.”

Decepticon Interdictor Severance - Bridge

"Commander... We are approaching operational range of our interdictor field. If we travel further, we will lose the coverage of the plantery body Nebulos." The helmsmech called from his pilots bubble. His tone was matter of fact and knew full well that regardless of Deadlock's opinion his intonation was correct. They would have to stop their progress.

"And so Turmoil still pulls his invisible leash upon our necks." Deadlock's own response to his pilot was course and concise. He bit his own vocalizer and placed his own desire to end this game with the new arrival as soon as possible. "Adjust course. Bring us directly in the most plausable approach vector between that Gas Giant and Nebulos."

The helmsmech nodded in acceptance of the order, and Deadlock resisted the urge to plug the pilot into the nearest fusion generator. It irked him to no end that such a cowardly mechanism would taint his bridge, a decepticon who had avoided battle whenever possible was no Decepticon. In fact he surmised that the only reason he was tolerated was because of some favoritism cast down by the ship's actual commander, Turmoil. Even so, there would be time enough to remedy that situation. For now, Deadlock would placate the little yellow striped data purge.

"Communications, patch into combat channel sixty three. If we cannot partisipate directly in this engagement... yet. Let us at least entertain ourselves." As the comms officer did as he was ordered, Deadlock toggled a switch to the chair arm rest and brought up a small holo window to his gunnery chief. "Arm all charged energy batteries. Those Autobots could very well end up being lucky sparks. Lets not take any chances of being unprepared."

Farstar – Deck 3

Strafe had completed running diagnostics on seven of the ten emergency escape pods on his side of the deck when another explosion rocked the ship, sending him tumbling backwards to the floor. He managed to hold on to the scanner in one hand as he landed hard on his aft section. “Fraggit! That hurt like a hungry scraplet!” He pushed himself up and got back to his feet as sparks continued to fly around him and cables hung down in various places around the deck. The aerial gunner looked over his shoulder at Tonka to see how the green mech was doing on the opposite side. “What’s your progress on those pods over there, Tonka?”

The cowardly ‘Bot was gripping a security bar along the side of the wall, trying to remain standing as the ship shook again. The look of fear on his face plate was clear even through all of the smoke that hung in the air. “Oh, I’m fine. I checked three pods and they’re in the green. I’m having trouble with this fourth one, though. I can’t seem to get the access panel off.” Tonka’s words trailed off as he continued to struggle with the hatch.

“Wait, don’t force it! I had the same issue with one over here. Let me show you what to do,” Strafe replied as he moved across the deck towards Tonka’s position. Just then another explosion occurred, sending a surge of energy through the escape pod the green mech was struggling with and into Tonka, himself. In an instant, his systems became overloaded and the small ‘Bot was propelled back across the deck, striking the opposing wall.

“Tonka!” Strafe exclaimed as he rushed over to his comrade’s side. Unfortunately, it was too late as Tonka’s burnt out shell slid down the wall, coming to rest on the floor. The aerial gunner knelt beside him and could instantly see that his spark had been extinguished. Tonka wasn’t the biggest nor the strongest of mechs and therefore wasn’t able to withstand a power surge of that intensity. Thankfully, Strafe had not been standing closer or he would’ve felt the effects, as well. Or worse, he could have ended up in the same condition.

“I’m sorry, Tonka,” Strafe said as he paid his respects. The small ‘Bot might have been a coward and not very reliable, but he was still a good spark that was now gone and at the very least should be given the proper value that he deserves.

Standing once again, Strafe opened a comm line to his commander in order to deliver the bad news: >>”Scattershot, this is Strafe. Tonka has been killed. An explosion caused the escape pod he was working on to malfunction. As a result, his circuits were fried in a massive power surge. There was nothing that could be done. I have completed work on seven of the pods already and Tonka had finished three before the accident. A fourth is now damaged beyond repair. I will finish running diagnostics on the remaining units and should be done within two or three breems, sir.”<<

Once the message was sent, Strafe moved back to finish working on the remaining escape pods. He had three left to check on one side of the deck and another six on the opposite side. He hoped to have the work completed in the time he had told Scattershot as the aerial gunner knew all too well the dangerous price of delay in the current situation.

FarStar - Emergency Bouy Room 1

Choosing to ignore Nosecone’s comedic side, Afterburner pushed himself into a sitting position and finally back to his feet as a tremor rippled through the ship. While not a threat to his equilibrium, it did pose a threat while they handled the portable generators. The power coursing through them could potentially destabilize their meta processors and cause cascading system failures. In many ways he was lucky to only have taken the jolt he had, though to admit that much wasn’t his style.

He plugged one of his generators into their sockets next to Nosecone’s as nonchalantly as possible then stepped back. The current couldn’t jump from the generators to him… at least he didn’t think so.

"You know, if we get out of this in one piece, you'd gotta admit, that'd be great decisions on Scattorshot's part." Nosecone said as he placed another prong into it's corresponding socket
Afterburner couldn’t help but look at his comrade as though he’d lost his mind. Scattorshot? He shook his head, “So long as he lets me get at some Cons. Until then he’s a rust stain on my aft.” Continuing with his second generator Afterburner paused in thought. Was he too harsh on their leader? Nah, he was sure Scattorshot was somewhere comfortable plotting to get them into more trouble with the Cons which was fine by him.

Koraja--Fortress Tenebrous

Apeface spared one more passing glance skyward before focusing his attention on the swarm of little green organics that had suddenly infested their surroundings.

“Self-control….*hyeh*…it’s overrated. You guys even manage to slaughter any Autobots at that bunker base the brain bug said they were hiding in?” the Horrorcon grumbled.

If it had been another one of those spindly little Insecticons challenging him like that, he would have smashed the bug and probably taken off then and there to see what the other Decepticons were getting to do. He wasn’t sure he could achieve escape velocity, but it’d be worth trying. “Mindmash…show our ‘guests’ to the Vice Commander,” Apeface said, pointing out one of the smaller Decepticon grunts in the room and waving him over. The Horrorcon wasn’t about to serve as a fleshling guide now.

“Ooh, ‘guests’, how lovely,” the other Decepticon said, his optics flickering dangerously. “This way, please.”

For a Decepticon, the trek between the main hall and the command center was not an exceptionally long one. For the organics, it was likely a much different experience. Nevertheless, the group eventually arrived at the command center, having endured the continuous stares of every Decepticon whose path they crossed. The Nebulans, for the most part, kept their heads down, looking more intently at the floor than at anything that surrounded them. The curious few, however, were able to take in the architectural wonderment that surrounded them.

“Vice Commander Turmoil, the Nebulan Council of peers, as ordered,” Mindmash said, giving the group one more cursory look before stepping to the side.
___

The Perdition--Bridge

Reflector reduced the speed of the Perdition to just a quarter above impulse as the ship’s sensors continually scanned everything about their present surroundings and the Jovian planet. Death-Grip’s report had not been ideal. Venom’s was satisfactory. Deadlock and his crew had been curiosity silent and had taken some curious trajectories, but Reflector was inclined to leave him largely to his own devices for now, given that he was one of the mechs who had served upon the Vice-Commander’s vessel directly. Without Scorponok here to serve as his own cover, Reflector was not going to question another powerful Decepticon’s officer.

“Ah, just in time,” Reflector said, noticing a new series of signals as they emerged from Nebulos and had clearly entered sensor range; Scourge and a suitable allotment of his Sweeps.

Reflector transmitted the last known position of the Autobot vessel as well as a number of different possible locations, given speed and atmospheric conditions.

Farstar Emergency Buoy Room 1

Nosecone was half way done with his job of placing the prongs in the sockets, slowly, but surely, he was getting done. Nosecone looked at Afterburner when he reacted to his comment about Scattorshot being just a rust stain on Afterburners aft. Nosecone shook his head and went back to his work.

Just like him, he can't let a superior take a compliment. Nosecone thought as he placed another prong in it's socket.

"Well, one cannot follow if someone else cannot lead." Nosecone said after a minute of placing prongs.

Nosecone was surprised by his own sentence at how poetic it just sounded. He looked at the remaining amount of prongs on the floor next to him and sighed, he had a lot to go, and that is a lot to get perfect.

Koraja - Fortress Tenebrous

“Vice Commander Turmoil, the Nebulan Council of peers, as ordered.”

With Mindmash having presented the Nebulan Council of peers to the Decepticons present in the command center, the massive command throne in the center of the room rotated to face the Nebulans - revealing the massive form of the Vice Commander Turmoil. While some of the peers had obviously already met a mech that dwarfed even Turmoil, the robust, mostly black Decepticon was still an intimidating sight, matching the height of above average sized Decepticons even while sitting on the command throne.

Turmoil stood up and gave the organics before him an evaluating look, scowling in disgust behind the mask covering his face.

"Peer Galen. We meet at last. I trust my men gave you no trouble on your way here?"

Farstar - Engineering

Scattershot disconnected his impromtu connection with Strafe. It was a waste of a decent technician. Not great, but that didn't matter. Tonka was a member of the Technobot Beta team... the support unit to the primary battle group that comprised his personal senior staff. The green mech had missed out when the well handed out backstruts, but when it came to at least the basic abilities to be resourceful, he was in high supply. Still like the dead he had crossed in the hall, Scattershot would have to wait till later to mourn their passing.

The Technobot commander hefted up a large piece of support structure and drove it to reinforce the deck above, offering more space for the smaller engineers to work. He swung around and grabbed his own set of spanners and micro point precision calibraters. making his way over to the forward end of the Engineering Deck, he knelt down next to the huddled masses of mechanisms working in a fury to repair the massive breach to the forward cannon.

A pair of breems later brought about the desired results as Scattershot was able to grab hold of a burned out motherboard and power conduit circuit. Tossing it over his shoulder he allowed the workmech to scramble into the small compartment to install the new component. "Commander. We've got the modifications to the engines complete."

"Same with the repairs to the primary battery... as well as the removal of the primary power limiter. If we survive to fire this, we'll get one maybe two shots tops before its fried."

Scattershot nodded his head. "Thats all we'll be allowed. So we'll just have to make it count. Scrape hows the process on the Bounce System coming?"

The technician fell out of one of the smaller jefferies tubes and landed on his head with a thunk. "Just finished... we don't have alot of available power to run all of them with target lock. So once that gun's fired we'll have to shift power to those systems if we want to utilize them for boarding parties."

He remained quiet as he pivoted on his heel. "Good work." He didn't want to tell them that they would never survive a boarding attempt with two decepticon destroyers in orbit, a battle cruiser enroute and the Interdictor waiting somewhere between here and Nebulos. The facts were staring him in the plate, he knew well enough that their only chance for survival was to link up with any Autobot survivors planet side. Slag even if there weren't any, he was intent on making sure those cons paid for this crisis they were currently in. Of course it meant he would have to stop an entire total invasion with his crew.

Instead of allowing them to see any internal worry, Scattershot let out a blusterous laugh of satisfaction. "Regardless of how it turns out, we'll give them slag scrapers a good ole fashion bloody ole factory before this cycle is up. That I promise." The others cheered as the ship rocked from yet another probing shot from the surface. His time was now up and they had to get back to this fight. Pressing an intercom box toggle, Scattershot opened a shipwide channel. "Strafe, Afterburner, Nosecone, report to the bridge. Times up."

Farstar- Corridors

Breakaway had woken to a disaster. He was taking a stasis nap in the quarters he shared with just about everyone else on the ship, when he was unceremoniously woken by an explosion that rocked the whole ship. He had been thrown from the room, groggy and still powering up, and his optics were immediately rewarded with the horrible sight of wreckage and fire, mechs and machines running everywhere, panels torn from the walls and wires dangling from the ceiling.

As he was taught to do, he had immediately adjusted to the situation and began helping bots trapped under rubble and clearing away debris, which often included the dead bodies of those many unfortunates who had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. This had all happened what seemed like cycles ago, but Breakaway knew it had been only kliks. The bodies were now clear and most of the bots trapped were helped or being helped- but there was still so much devastation. He had no idea what to do; the adrenaline of waking up into this madness was wearing off, and Breakaway was now stumbling aimless and terrified down the corridors of the ship.

He had never been in a situation like this before. He was a warrior, sure, he had seen battle, but this was something entirely new to him. There was nothing he could do. He was a fighter, not an engineer, and this was no place for a fighter. Suddenly another explosion shook Breakaway out of his daze, and looking around, he found himself in engineering.

Just great, Breakaway thought to himself. What am I supposed to do here?

"Hey, you! Flyboy!" Breakaway heard some bot call gruffly to him from further in the room. He tried to ignore the voice, pretend like he didn't see the bot calling him, struggling to hold up some big cube with pipes and wires sticking out of every side of it.

"I know you hear me! Get over here, kid, and help me!" The bot yelled at him. It was obvious he was in trouble, and everyone else around him was too occupied to help him. Tentatively, Breakaway stepped into the room, knowing that he would be stuck here for a while now, running from engineer to mechanic, getting yelled at and fumbling through things he didn't understand. But at least it was something.

His walk turned into a slow trot as he jogged around the rubble and groups of bots huddled around sparking machines that Breakaway didn't recognize.

"What can I do?" Breakaway asked the old bot upon reaching him.

"Just hold this up so I can weld it back onto the wall," the mech responded, shifting the weight of the cube higher onto his shoulder and trying to step back at the same time so the Autobot flier could get to it.

"What's going on out there?" Breakaway asked as he took the cube and hoisted it up against the wall. "I woke up to an explosion, and now there's chaos all over the ship."

The crusty old mechanic slid a welding torch out of his arm and lowered a visor over his optics as he responded. "There's been an attack by some Decepticon ships, I think. I'm not too clear on the details, we don't get much news down here in this pit. Shift it a little to the left."

Breakaway obliged and the mechanic leaned in and began to weld the cube, sparks flying and light reflecting off his visor in flashes. "Decepticons?" Breakaway repeated. That was something he recognized.

"A few of their ships have us cornered just off the surface of some planet," the mechanic mumbled. "The Technobots have been running all over trying to get the ship in order again so we can fight back, or get out of here, or something." He leaned back as he retracted the torch and visor. "Scattorshot's right over there, as a matter of fact," he grunted and pointed to a corner of the huge room where the Technobot leader was indeed attempting to aid a few younger-looking engineers.

"Alright, I think that's all the help I'll need from you, kid, thanks fer your help," the bot wiped his servos off on his thighs and looked up, but Breakaway was already gone.

---

Pressing an intercom box toggle, Scattershot opened a shipwide channel. "Strafe, Afterburner, Nosecone, report to the bridge. Times up." The Technobot looked down and was immediately greeted by the sight of a young brown-colored jet with his hand up in a salute.

"Autobot warrior Breakaway reporting for duty, Commander Scattorshot, sir! Ready and willing to help kick some Decepticon skidplates!"

FarStar - Emergency Bouy Room 1

"Well, one cannot follow if someone else cannot lead." Nosecone said after a minute of placing prongs.

For the briefest of moments Afterburner stopped and stared at his comrade. Had he heard him right? Could it be someone else understood where he’s coming from? He quickly shook his head sending the thought scurrying into the depths of his imagination. Nose cone was right there with him then poof. Things were as they always had been.

Oh well, no point in arguing over spilled energon. Someday the others would come around to his way of thinking but the thought of the possibility of being understood continued to recur to him as they worked.

Afterburner even began to enjoy himself by imagining each imput prong would lead to another deactivated Decepticon. Sure, it was Morbid but what to do otherwise would be so… not him. His mood betrayed him when he actually took part of what Nosecone had left. They were a team weren’t they?

Pressing an intercom box toggle, Scattershot opened a shipwide channel. "Strafe, Afterburner, Nosecone, report to the bridge. Times up."
Talk about a mood killer. Afterburner glanced at the intercom speaker inplanted in the ceiling of the bouy room. “Oh yes, we’ll just drop everything and come running.” With a snort of scorn he thought about challenging Scattorshot’s authority but decided against it. This was something Scattorshot cooked up to keep him out of his way. Okay. Fine. Two can play that game. He turned to Nosecone, “Need some help?”

Farstar Emergency Buoy Room 1

Nosecone took notice of Afterburner handling the rest of what Nosecone had left, and Nosecone began to speak, for the fear of Afterburner, the Mech who had just electrocuted himself, might do something wrong. But he kept his mouth shut, for he didn't want the tenseness of the situation to increase.

"Then again, the people who follow may not like to follow, but they can just get over it because the leader is the leader and no one can take that away from him." Nosecone was trying to make a point as delicately as possible, and he hoped it wouldn't irritate his fellow Technobot.

He then heard the signal that came from Scattorshot saying that their time was up. Finally, he was getting tiresome of the repetitive task of placing some prongs into a socket.

"I'm fine, I'm finished anyhow," Nosecone placed the final prong and got up from his crouched position and began to exit the room, "Lets head up."

Nosecone led the way out of the room and into the hallway.