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Combaticon Hub

Vortex smirked with a satisfaction behind his face shield that belied a more manipulative streak that he hid well. While he held most of the construction, arrangement and over all equipment of the small space that would serve as something of a Combaticon Workshop or service hub, he knew full well that one significant piece was still missing. And from what he could tell by Onslaught's tone, he knew it as well. "Refinement, a broad term for which I should apologize in utilizing Commander." He spoke with a subtle air in his tone.

"Aside from the necessary installation of the required reinforced equipment for training and other 'refinement' of our particular techniques, as well as our own personal bounce pads for rapid deployment." He paused briefly and allowed his smirk to dissolved into his standard expressions, none of them visible by the outside world. "We are not complete. By refinement I referred to the fact that we lack a critical although arrogant piece of our unit."

The interrogator reached over to a small activated portable terminal and swiftly brought up a series of sensor logs he had managed procure. While they were not entirely complete, they offered at least a simple cycle. He hoped it would inspire their brilliant tactician of a leader to formulate some sort of plan to rescue their temporarily besieged comrade in arms.

Korean Shoreline

Oil Slick listened patiently as Darkride answered his questions. As usual he seemed overly amused by something, possibly the fact that he had such important information that the chemist lacked. He allowed him this bit of merriment as doing otherwise would only distract him from sharing the information. The Decepticon hid his annoyance as Darkride examined a wound, self inflicted most likely, and made a grand gesture of drinking down the drops that had bled out of him. It was a display that would trouble some, but Oil Slick had no reaction to it.

Once Darkride was finished Oil Slick nodded back at him. “It is an intriguing bit of information you have obtained, and one that does bear further investigation. I will proceed beneath the water to do so. I would assume you would want to be present for this information gathering. It is, after all, among your specialties, even if the methods used will be rather mundane by your standards. I am more then capable of doing so on my own however, since you find the water so disagreeable.”

The Decepticon moved past Darkride and towards the Sea. He was curious to see if his slight barb would provoke Darkride into following him or if he would simply shrug it off. It was sometimes difficult to tell how he would react.

*

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Hook nodded at Scrapper as he began giving instructions to him and Mixmaster. “If Mixmaster can strengthen some of the raw ores we should be able to create an initial refinery. From there we can create additional ones for more refined iron and various alloys.” He tapped the data pad to show where he suggested the construct them.

“Once those are complete the others can begin creating the hull plating while we begin constructing the engines, which will be the most complicated part, of course. We keep the grunt work with those suited to it while the details are handled by us, as always.” Hook offered a smug grin. It would be good to do some actual technical and detailed work as opposed to all of this digging and other menial labor.

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

While it was all good and well that Astrotrain decided to lend his assistance to the creation of their new base, Blitzwing found himself watching Astrotrain intently, hoping he could guide the commando in the right direction. He did thankfully, and Blitzwing was silently grateful his friend knew what he was doing. Because Blitzwing didn't exactly.

“That one does have a point,” he said to Astrotrain, jabbing a thick digit at the Constructicon suffering a laughing fit. “He is lucky. Lucky I haven't gone over there and beaten some silence into him.”

Despite the threat of violence present in his words, dry humour only existed within them. This time, however, a chuckle or even a simple grin didn't show up at the end of his joke. He was sure he was joking. Almost sure.

He retrieved his weapon from a subspace compartment and followed Astrotrain. A veteran of countless battles, it struck him as idiotic to use his blaster, an instrument designed for killing and destruction, as a makeshift tool. It was an insult, in fact. But there was nothing he could do about it.

This was not a warzone but a construction site. There were no enemies here only fellow Decepticons. There were no structures to bring down only ones to raise.

Finally relenting, Blitzwing unleashed an overly dramatic and elected to go with the flow.

“Let's go build some slag. Or whatever the frag we're supposed to do.”

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Mixmaster hadn't really been bothered one way or another when Scrapper had interrupted his work for another impromptu meeting about their progress. They were certainly making progress and Mixmaster could see it, thus keeping some of his more eccentric tendencies at bay and keeping his creative--though slightly glitched--mind focused on the tasks at hand.

"I can, heheh. I can, I can," Mixmaster grinned, stepping away from Scrapper and Hook and walking over to one section of the tunnels that had been broken away from and Mixmaster intended to plunder for raw materials. Transforming, he shifted his mixer mode in to reverse and backed up until he was only a few feet away from one of the tunnels. A large hose and and drilling module once again snaked its way out from the underside of his vehicle mode, the drilling firing up and then slamming in to the wall and the hose following shortly thereafter in order to retrieve all of the loosened, raw minerals and suck them back in to his mixing drum which was already churning with the right mix of acidic chemicals to assist in the breakdown process and then rebonding and strengthening process.

So many processes. Such a treat for the Constructicon Chemical Engineer. He was carrying out his function, exactly as he had been designed to back on Cybertron, vorns and vorns ago. Only now, time and experience had allowed for his own unique outlook to weave itself in to the process. He was just as curious as anyone to see what the end result would actually be.

Korean Shoreline

At Oil Slick’s query concerning the interrogator’s presence for the information gathering Darkride spread his arms wide and gave his comrade a genteel bow. Always the aristocrat yet doomed to a life of insanity. The grand gesture was accompanied by a wide toothy grin.

“But of course my dear, dear Oil Slick. I would not have it any other way.”

Rising from the bow and lowering his arms back to his sides, Darkride gave the chemist a scrutinizing gaze. His methods always worked on two levels. They brought out the cooperation of his prey, and they gave him satisfaction...in two ways…but that is not important at this point in time.

“They do not have to be mundane my friend. Of course right now they are, but with the use of some improvised ‘toys’ I can assure you cooperation…and satisfaction on my part. After all, I need to be satiated by the end of it.”

The thought of such actions caused Darkride to bring a clawed hand up to his mouth where he wiped away a line of clear fluid that had dribbled from his mouth.

The interrogator shook his head returning him back to the discussion he and Oil Slick had been having.

“No! There is no need for you to…do all of the work. Beside, you said so yourself, it is one of my specialties. And worry not about this…”

With a kick of the sand Darkride’s face scrunched up into a hated sneer. He then let out a gagging sound as he watched the water roll up on shore. Why am I doing this again?

“I may not enjoy this detestable brine, but I have a duty to know. To know everything.”

Darkride’s face morphed into a sweet smile as he looked to his domed partner. It was a knowing smile. With it still in place, Darkride sauntered over to Oil Slick.

“You know, my familiar, you have yet to reveal exactly where you disappeared to or who it was you so swiftly left me for.”

While he stared up at the gangly chemist’s optics, Darkride’s gentle smile grew into a demented grin.

“Let us not keep secrets from one another, Oil Slick. It is just not apropos.”

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

"Heh heh. Only a matter of time, I'm sure. Just...," Astrotrain began, before pausing. Since when had he become his triple-changing brother's keeper? "...eh, do what you want."

Astrotrain smirked and looked around. The cavernous structure they were in was actually starting to look like it might begin to house something worthwhile. He wasn't sure what, exactly, but that was for mechs higher on the pay grade to decide.

"I don't know. I just keep waiting for the bottom to drop out. It's almost like it's too quiet, you know? Something's gotta give. Someone's going to come out of this fragged," Astrotrain said, clearing another pile of rocky debris out of his and Blitzwing's path.

>>"This crap is starting to pile up around us, Long Haul. Help yourself."<<
___

Dome Structure

Onslaught nodded at Vortex's mention of Blast-Off.

"You're not alone. Swindle mentioned a similar concern. I wouldn't be surprised if Brawl was thinking of it as well. We're a unit, in the truest sense of the word and we function at our optimum in that capacity," Onslaught began, looking upwards through the currently translucent dome ceiling. Various sea creatures native of this planet could be seen overhead, their silhouettes clear against the backdrop of the sun shimmering in the waterscape.

"One of Thunderwing's parting points was a valid one. Keeping a low profile, be it through communications or any actions we undertake, is of the utmost priority. Neither Shockwave nor Soundwave are fools. They are unquestionably not only good at what they do--they are the best. Megatron did not keep them so close out of any kind of sentimentality or friendship. Or loyalty, for that matter. We make the most minor of miscalculations and we run the risk of full-on destruction raining down on us. At least until this question of leadership is solved and everyone is content again."

Onslaught sighed.

"As content as any Decepticon ever is with being ruled rather than ruling themselves."

Onslaught allowed those words to hang in the air for a few moments before turning to face Vortex directly.

"When distraction comes, I will capitalize on it. Until then, any action we might take increases our odds of discovery tenfold. At minimum," Onslaught said as he walked past Vortex towards the edges of the dome. "Keep working. I will get our stranded brother back to us. Soon."

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Long Haul loved his job. No, no that wasn’t right. He tolerated his job. He endured it. Yes, those words were much more accurate. The monotonous nature of his work left him often feeling bored and unappreciated, even ignored at times. He was used to it, of course, as he had been doing the same exact routine for countless vorns with little more than a ‘thank you’ on a very rare occasion when it was given.

Now, at the bottom of the Yellow Sea, things were no different. The triplechangers, Astrotrain and Blitzwing, were helping to assist in the digging of the underground tunnels and caverns that would serve as their base of operations at least in the short term until the permanent, mobile one was finished. The two Decepticons had already dug out a considerable amount of rock, much of which Long Haul had carted away in a series of trips out beyond the confines of the water tight dome. Each time the green transport passed through the dome’s wall, his joints were once again greeted with the acidic nature of the surrounding salt water. It pained him some, but the heavy lifter persevered and always returned for another load.

Long Haul felt that he was doing more than an adequate job, but the two triplechangers were moving a bit faster than he was able to keep up with. As a result, the amount of rock that continued to be excavated was beginning to pile up, making it seem as though he wasn’t doing his job. Astrotrain echoed that belief in his last comment to the Constructicon. “I have been helping myself, Astro,” the dump truck pointed out as he rolled through the tunnel and pulled up to another pile of rock. “I can only move so fast, you know. I’m doing my best.”

With his corrective statement delivered, Long Haul signaled for a group of nearby worker drones to begin loading more rocks into his truck bed. Once it was filled to capacity once again, the green transport drove out of the tunnels and towards the dome wall for the tenth or eleventh time. It was something like that as the heavy lifter had lost count a while ago. He readied himself for the salt water that would soon invade his servos, all the while cursing internally as all the hard work he had already accomplished had gone unappreciated as usual. Did I really expect anything more, especially from the triplechangers? I should know better than that by now.

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

The curt reply from Long Haul actually prompted Astrotrain to stop what he was doing for a moment. Though some of the debris had bunched up around them, in most of the other relevant work areas it had been cleared out almost entirely. He had been so focused on his immediate work area that he hadn't really paid attention.

Astrotrain felt a tinge of something. He wasn't exactly sure what it was. For an emotion, it was pretty foreign. He didn't feel it often.

>>"Oh. Yeah.....guess you're right,"<< Astrotrain said, his vocalizers hesitating for a moment in his transmission to the Contructicon hauler. >>"Sorry."<<

He didn't know what it was. Maybe it was that little bit of empathy that he felt for a fellow Decepticon designed mainly for hauling stuff. Whatever it was, he didn't like it, and he didn't like the word the instant he had said it, even if he more or less meant it.

Korean Shoreline

Oil Slick watched again as Darkride went through some of his exaggerated theatrics, bowing gracefully and smiling. He wondered briefly why the other Decepticon performed such gestures. Was it a bit of camouflage to hide his true intentions and personality, perhaps to lull one into a sense of false security? It made some sense given his function, although it was unnecessary now with him the only audience. Perhaps it had become so ingrained as to be automatic? It could just be a bit of amusement for him, or just a bit of his madness showing through in a more mundane fashion. Whatever the case may be it was a slight annoyance that he continued to tolerate, for now.

The chemist watched impassively as Darkride agreed to accompany him, although expressing disdain for entering the body of water. To Oil Slick it was but another caustic chemical he would be exposed to. His systems and armor were well protected and inoculated against anything that would be found in it. He would have to simply remember to apply a fresh coating of protective chemicals when he was done with this. With the dam sealed over his cranium he began wading out into the sea.

The interrogator was apparently willing to help him obtain more information, but his unnatural cravings would apparently lead to some sort of violence to keep him happy. Oil Slick said nothing about this, but violence would only be a desperate and last ditch effort. It would draw too much attention and suspicion to them to use it otherwise, Darkride’s predilections not withstanding. If need be the chemist felt confident he could curtail his partner’s baser instincts, by force if necessary. While he was a useful ally he would not allow himself to be put at risk by his violent cravings.

Oil Slick’s expression remained perfectly neutral as Darkride asked about his excursion. While the question annoyed him, it was a logical one that he had been prepared for. The small spark of anger burned coolly inside him from his encounter with the Autobots. When he spoke however, it was in his usual monotone voice. “I met with my contact in the Autobots and made the exchange. A second Autobot appeared, whether by surprise or planned ambush I can not say for certain. There was an altercation and the data was lost, along with additional vials of experimental syk I had on me. My informant escaped but the other Autobot was severely, possibly mortally, wounded.”

He turned and looked down at Darkride. “While the loss of information is disappointing there is still the possibility to obtain more. The Autobot is not likely to break from her addiction, particularly not after using the strains of syk I had on me. The side effects alone could prove quite interesting and unexpected. She will need me again to either deal with the side effects or give her an additional supply, if not both. I doubt she can get much help from her Autobot comrades and even then their experience with cerebral circuitry affecting chemicals is insignificant compared to mine. We need only be patient and she will come back to me.”

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Blitzwing continued to do his part in the “grand” construction of their new base—a pit-hole of a location in his opinion—digging up the rock so underground tunnels and caverns could eventually take its place. And he kept digging. And he kept digging. And what else did he do? Nothing. He just kept digging.

Then he listened to Long Haul as he muttered something to Astrotrain before taking off for the gazillionth time to dispose of yet another load of rock. What a whiner.

Blitzwing loathed this monotonous task. For a moment, he allowed his thoughts to drift and wondered how Long Haul felt, despite being a Constructicon and owing a fondness for this type of work. Not that he was involved much in the actual building process, Blitzwing suddenly realised. But that was neither the Triple Changer's fault nor problem.

No, he had to make sure to keep digging. Keep digging until he completed his task. Until there was no more rock to remove. Until he dug to the centre of this freaking mud ball of a pla—

“Astrotrain.” Blitzwing dropped his rifle, his servos too infected with frustration to hold it. “I hate this job, Long Haul's a fragging moaner, and I want out!”

Perhaps a little too dramatic, but Blitzwing had never been commended on the superb management of his temper. It had always been simple to ignite, like sparks abruptly converting tinder to flames. But difficult to extinguish. Fortunately he wasn't truly angry yet, only flustered.

“Aren't you sick and tired of this?” His tone was thick with displeasure. “And don't tell me it's just me. Don't even think about it.”

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

An exasperated sigh escaped Darkride as he watched his comrade stride into the salt laden liquid. The putrid substance was something he absolutely detested, not for its…wetness, but for its additive. The sodium chloride was simply caustic to some of the more sensitive parts of a Cybertronian’s anatomy. The resulting rust and corrosion was especially what he desired to avoid.

“But of course he would enjoy wading through this disgusting foulness. He is within his element.”

Darkride stepped into the water, his face screwed up in a hateful manner. And a moment later he was entirely engulfed…claimed by the sea.

From his vantage point he could make out Oil Slick moving along at a near snail’s pace to their intended destination. Primus be praised for the chemist’s bright neon green accents.

Recalling what they had been discussing prior to submerging Darkride tossed another query at his comrade.

“Ah. Now you claim…actually it is say…you say that there is a slim to no chance that the femme has no one to help her. How could you be so sure? As detestable as the Autobot lot are certainly there are those amongst them that would be capable of lending some kind of helping hand.”

He only quieted for a moment not giving Oil Slick a chance to offer a quick response. Instead Darkride pressed further.

“Have you given any thought to them actually using your drug against you? If there is a way to help one of their own they will find it. I would not put it past them to synthesize your substance just to help wean her off of it.”

The interrogator gave a slight chuckle before turning his head to look up at the chemist and flashed him a wicked grin.

“Would that not strip you of that precious dignity you hide beneath that stoic façade? I believe it would. Oh the irony.”

Darkride turned his attention back ahead of them the smile he wore just seconds before already forgotten, his mood swinging from participating in lighthearted banter to that of slight annoyance.

“It would have been urbane of you to offer and provide a generous coating of those protective chemicals.”

The interrogator shot his partner a disgruntled glare before settling down and pressing onward.

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Astrotrain had cleared another pile of minerals out of his way when Blitzwing had his little outburst. The triple-changer turned to look at his partner for a moment, saying nothing at first as he walked over. Eventually, however, he did speak.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I kinda am. It isn't just you. I was just thinking, actually," Astrotrain began, before stopping himself. "Nah. Nevermind. It's just all this building and digging. I'm not a Constructicon."

Astrotrain leaned up against the wall of the caverns that had been dug so far.

"What do you wanna do? Go find Shockwave? Go find Starscream? Leave these bores? I'm not seeing anything around here to inspire a whole lotta loyalty. Maybe we make a bigger move. I dunno. What do you think? There's obviously some kinda glitch in your gears."

As he asked his question, he decided it might be best to get the location on their other triple-changing comrade, just in case.

>>"Hey Octane, if you're getting this, what's your location and status?"<<

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

A good friend was hard to find these solar cycles. Particularly if you were a Decepticon. And particularly if you were Blitzwing. But sometimes you lucked out as if fortune itself looked down upon you personally, smiled, and offered you its wonderful gifts.

Blitzwing was liked well enough by his comrades, received favourably by the majority of them. Some, however, a small number, did not nurture those feelings, and in fact they expressed the opposite. They wore their abhorrence on their face plates like no other choice was available, like it was compulsory. Blitzwing was amused by his haters, secretly wishing at least one would step forward and take a swing at him.

So far none had taken that plunge. As a result of waiting, Blitzwing had accumulated symptoms of paranoia, keeping him on edge, keeping him wary of his would-be attackers assaulting him in a cowardly fashion rather than directly. But he would be ready for those wimps, too.

“I don't give a slag, 'Train. I just want out of here,” he said retrieving his rifle. “Tell Octane to haul aft. He should've been down here anyway, helping us.”

And then there was Astrotrain. Good old Astrotrain. He had put up with a lot of Blitzwing's belligerence. A lot. But he knew how to handle the commando's aggression, warped sense of humour, and hefty amount of brashness. Always had.

And most likely always will.

Base Caverns

Scrapper stepped back from his and Hook's newest creation to momentarily marvel the results of their hard work - a full scale portable ore refinery. Designed and thrown together within timeframe that would have made even Grapple jealous. Truly, there was no Transformer alive that could match the industrial ability of the Constructicons.

"I have to say Hook - given time and resources we had, this truly is a work of art." The Constructicon engineer stated cheerfully, rubbing his hands together. The feeling was a passing one however. They still had much to do and little time to achieve it for it to matter.

"Mixmaster! Whenever you are ready!" Scrapper called out, notifying the chemist that he could now proceed from creating bonding agents into running the refinery. "While Hook and I move to our next project, take a moment and assign as many of our Decepticon brethen to help you out as you need. No place like home and this hardly looks like home yet with all the crude rock surfaces and water leaks!"

Scrapper turned towards Hook with a knowing look, or at least it was meant to be one. After all, he did have his face hidden behind an optical visor and a face plate.

"It is not like they are of use to anything else but manual labor, heh heh." He chuckled and opened a panel in his forearm, allowing a small view screen to set itself up.

>>"Hook, I think I have come up with an idea that will help our little project. The salinity of seawater is giving us a perfect opportunity to run an extensive maintenance program. And what can we do with an extensive maintenance program you ask? Why, I say - to have an excuse to make modifications we need to do make Devastator a reality of course! Let's face it, it is not like our Decepticon brothers here have the processing power or the technical know-how to make a difference between a regular parts replacement and conduit enlargement surgery. The only real problems are Starscream and Thunderwing and I am not seeing either here."<<

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Scrapper's latest transmission was like a soothing broadcast from Soundwave on Mixmaster's audio receptors. Working with a refinery? Yes, please. Mixmaster was on it like hot glue.

>>"You got it, got it, got it Scraps!"<< Mixmaster said, transporting his newly-made collection of bonding agents to the refinery area where he transformed and began to secure the materials in modest containers until better ones could be produced.

As he looked around, ready to round up some assistance, two mechs just happened to enter his field of vision: those triple-changers. Perfect!

"Hey guys, got a job for ya!"

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Oil Slick slowly trudged through the water, the soft ground beneath his feet and the very liquid itself slowing his motions. It was a nuisance to walk now, but he doubted his alternate mode would fair any better. It was designed for speed and maneuverability and both would be hampered in this environment. It was more likely that he would simply end up stuck in one spot, kicking up a cloud of dirt behind him as his wheels spun. At least now, fully engulfed in the fluid, he was able to run numerous scans with his sensors, filing the data away for later analysis.

As the chemist walked he could hear Darkride grumbling before launching a series of questions at him. The environment was apparently putting the other Decepticon in a foul mode, although his chastising and attempts and antagonism were typical of his character. Unfortunately for him Oil Slick was fully in control of his emotions and the remarks flowed over him much like the water he walked through now.

“Your concerns are noted Darkride, but are of no great concern. Even if the Autobots have a chemist with them they have no particular expertise with narcotic substances, certainly not to the level I possess. That is the downfall of outlawing something and strictly enforcing that regulation. At best they could only hope to duplicate my formula.”

He turned to face his fellow Decepticon. “Assuming they can do that much, they will quickly find out my latest batch has been synthesized to be more potent and more addictive. By giving her more they only increase the addiction, along with other side affects I had hoped to study. Should they attempt to wean her off of it the withdrawal symptoms will be quite harsh and extreme.”

“While I may watch these painful withdrawal symptoms with interest and you would likely derive some pleasure from it, her fellow Autobots will not. Compassion is foreign to beings like you and me, but the Autobots will possess it in abundance. They will give her more of the syk to keep her feeling well. I have already seen first hand the lengths they are willing to go to to keep her happy. Eventually though, again assuming they can even replicate my formula, they will need something more then it as the addiction grows and side affects worsen. They will need my expertise, and then we will be back where we started.”

Oil Slick almost smiled when Darkride again expressed his discomfort. Instead he looked at the other Decepticon in interest. “I had not anticipated working for extended periods in liquid such as this when our mission began. Had I known I would have brought the appropriate chemicals. I would be interested to hear about any particular damage or discomfort you encounter in this environment to add to my research.”

*

Base Caverns

“Of course it’s a work of art, we designed and built it. No other beings alive can match what we can do, especially when we aren’t dependent on the crude work of other, lesser minded Decepticons.” Hook replied haughtily to Scrapper’s comments. What they had done was quite impressive, and he was convinced it would have been impossible if some annoying seekers, bumbling Combaticons are insane Stunticons had been allowed even near it.

The Constructicon nodded at Scrappers next comment. “If they are capable of even manual labor. Hopefully Mixmaster can keep them from breaking anything vital.” He paused as he received the message from the Constructicon leader. He considered it briefly before sending a reply back.

>>”Counting on the ignorance of other Decepticons is always a safe bet Scrapper. I doubt any of them know how long a maintenance check would take. My only concern would be getting stuck having to do actual maintenance on some of these other Decepticons. It would be a vast waste of my precious time and skills, but I suppose I can sacrifice for the greater good that Devastator will be for all of us.”<<

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Bonecrusher found that his last statement to Scrapper went both unnoticed and unappreciated. Just like those who think that they are better than others to ignore them. Bonecrusher wasn't one to give up, but now wasn't the time for that conversation. He had about had it with all of the water. In fact, he didn't want to see another drop for a Vorn.

But he knew that was not going to happen.

Because he hadn't been told to do anything, Bonecrusher decided to take matters into his own hands. He cursed under his breath as he strode over to panels lying on the ground for the dome. With his enormous strength he lifted one of the panels and carried it over to Mixmaster.

"Ready for a coating of adhesives, Mixter!" Bonecrusher called out as he aimed the panel in a way that could make it easy for Mixmaster to spray his compound on it.

Korean Shoreline

In a burst of light Slipstream appeared on the shore, her hands holding on to Ramjet who she had brought along with her. She quickly released the other Decepticon, having no desire to be touching him longer then necessary. It didn’t look like much was going on in the area anymore, but there were plenty of tracks leading into the water. The femme gazed at the massive body of water with a hint of disgust. She didn’t like being trapped beneath it inside the Ultrax, but it was better then having to actually walk in it.

It did feel good to be free though, even if it was on this mudball. She considered just flying away now and leaving this awful planet behind. Unfortunately she didn’t think she had the fuel to get very far, and this jump up to the surface hadn’t exactly helped. No, she was going to have to bide her time for now. Still, she wasn’t going to waste this time off the Ultrax with Ramjet.

“Ok, there you go Ramjet, the exact coordinates you provided me. Now remember, you owe me one, big time. Don’t call me, I’ll cal you. Later!” The seeker eagerly transformed and darted away. She was going to stretch her wings a bit before she went back into the underwater tomb. It wasn’t like anyone was going to miss her.

*

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Swindle was getting antsy, and there were numerous reasons for it. First, he hated being underwater. It just wasn’t natural to be under this much liquid. He didn’t know how those freaky Seacons put up with it. Maybe that’s why they were so freaky, or maybe being underwater so much made them that way. Either way the Combaticon didn’t like having anything in common with those particular Decepticons.

Another reason he was anxious was that he was so far away from his merchandise. The Combaticon kept quite a collection of weaponry and other technology on board the Obliteration. Naturally he was in charge of all of the weapons the team used and maintained their armory, but that was only half the stuff he had on board the ship. There was also his personal stash of more exotic, illicit and illegal weapons and technology he kept on board the vessel, hidden from even Onslaught’s prying optics. The arms dealer always assumed he would have access to the very ship they all called home, yet here they were with his merchandise stuck up there and him on this primitive little world.

The final reason he was antsy was boredom. There wasn’t exactly a lot for him to do here. He could probably try and design and build some weapons for this new base but he didn’t exactly have much to work with. On top of that it would involve working with those cocky little Constructicons. They were all so smug, thinking they were the universe’s gift to the Decepticons. They would probably just stick him with some heavy lifting or some slag like that. They couldn’t possibly believe a Combaticon was almost as technically minded as they were. Heck, he could field strip an Autobot down to spare parts in just a few minutes with the right tools, not that he had ever had the chance to do that. Well, he’d never timed himself when he did it at least.

So now Swindle was left alone and to his own devices. It was a dangerous spot to leave the Combaticon in. He was more devious, cunning and intelligent then he got credit for. Sure, maybe Onslaught made the battle plans, but who do you think got him all those weapons? Who do you think made sure they all had all the fuel they needed? Who made sure the ship was running well and kept the weapons in working order? It sure as the pit wasn’t Brawl. Swindle put his mind to the problem at hand, pondering it with his own, unique vision of things.

After awhile the Decepticon snapped his fingers as it came to him. The Combaticon jogged over to Onslaught, somewhat clumsily due to the water. “Onslaught, I got it, I got a plan to get the Obliteration back. It’s a little unorthodox, not gonna lie to ya, but I think you’ll appreciate it. Its definitely outside the box, and I know how you like to think outside the box.”

Swindle paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. “Ok, so the Obliteration is stuck up there with the Thanatos watching her right? Well I figure the best way to get her away is to shoot her down. We just use the natives to do the dirty work for us. They’ve got plenty of missiles and rockets down here. I just need to get access to some of them and I can rig something up to go after the Obliteration. Of course I’ll make sure it doesn’t do any real damage, but maybe a nice radioactive burst would be enough to blind the Thantos for a moment. Blast-Off can then fake the ship taking a hit and bring her down here, somewhere, maybe near the Ultrax or something. I’m pretty sure I can do it, I just need some tech from the Obliteration first. What do ya think?”

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

"Hey guys, got a job for ya!" came a voice from somewhere behind him. Astrotrain turned to look and saw that it was another Constructicon. Another Constructicon with another meaningless grunt task for them to perform no doubt. And on top of all that, it was the nutty one. Just great.

Well, Astrotrain wasn't having it. Not now. Enough of Blitzwing's defiance had rubbed off on him. He was done. They could make a better go of this whole thing on their own. Or at least once they hooked up with Octane--who, for some reason or another, didn't seem to be willing to respond to his transmission. Punk.

"Funny. I've got something for you, too," Astrotrain said, seriously considering drawing his rifle and blasting the little psycho in the face. But he thought better of it. Barely. Against every natural Decepticon instinct, he kept his weapon in check. He wasn't out to start a battle. He was just done with this menial nonsense.

"Forget it," Astrotrain said, shoving past Mixmaster and heading towards the ridges that would eventually lead back up to the surface. Blitzwing would undoubtedly not be far behind, and if the crazy Constructicon said something smart to him, Blitzwing was probably not able to keep the same level head that Astrotrain could.

Oh well.

"We are out."

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

To the rear of his comrade Darkride continued to gripe about the liquid he and Oil Slick were currently trudging through. Occasionally the interrogator would throw in few choice words about the silt oozing through the seams in his feet and ankle structure.

“Of course this vile sludge would begin to seep into any crevice it could possibly find. If I did not know any better I would say this…slag…was sentient!”

Darkride let out a grunt as he sped up his pace as best he could in order to fall into step beside Oil Slick. Once there the interrogator shot the chemist a stern glare before Oil Slick finally decided to answer his quarry about the vial that had been stolen from him by the Autobots with whom Oil Slick had met.

The glare that had been focused on the tall gangly mech turned toward the growing sight of the construction site. Darkride had no desire to step in line with the dredge who had taken their places in order to get their new base completed.

“But of course. The Autobots do not have a chemist, not here at least. But you know as well as I that that has never stopped them before.”

Darkride turned his head to take a quick look at his associate. Many within the Decepticons ranks found the chemist difficult to read. The interrogator had to admit at first he found it difficult but as time went on and the two of them started working with one another to try and transcend their own goals, Darkride began to realize that Oil Slick’s hardened façade was not entirely impenetrable.

“We have known one another for hundreds of thousands of vorns, my friend. You cannot tell me that a part of you is not anxious. That perhaps, no matter how slim the chance, our enemy will find a way to out think and outsmart you.”

Not waiting for a response to his observations, Darkride turned his attention to the ever growing sight of the Contructicons and the other Decepticons milling about the construction location.

“And will that not be a shame. You here. You unable to witness exactly what the femme is going through. You, unable to look upon her as she writhes in pain…all thanks to your own beautifully crafted drug. A shame indeed.”

Darkride shook his head dejectedly as he moved ahead of the taller mech, but only so much so as to precede Oil Slick by only one step.

“I give you my condolences, my friend. I know how it pains you to be here and not there. I can only hope that this femme finds it impossible to wait for someone in her faction to help her….or to lock her up in either one of their Autobot penitentiaries or in a mental institute.”

Darkride stopped only several meters from their intended destination. Unwilling to arrive too early, the purple mech placed a clawed hand up to cease Oil Slick’s advance.

“What do you say that we take our time? As yet none have noticed our absence. Besides, my dear friend, I would love for you to reveal to me just what kind of pain this femme will be in.”

The sadist in him wanted nothing more than to revel in whatever pain the Autobot would be subject to. Nearly salivating at the thought Darkride placed his clawed hand on the taller mech’s chest running it down slowly while his attention was locked within his own mind.

“I wonder what her screams sound like.”

That particular thought sent a violent shiver down the interrogator’s spinal struts.

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

The brusque departure of the two triple-changers had left Mixmaster at something of a loss for words--a situation which was unique in and of itself. He stood there for a few brief moments, his mouth agape as he struggled for something to say in protest. Decepticons couldn't just....just walk away, could they?

But the words didn't come. Even if they had, who was he to object? He was a little eccentric, he knew, but he was hardly on the top ten list of "Most Intimidating Decepticons". Not even the top fifty.

"Ready for a coating of adhesives, Mixter!" a different voice, a more familiar one, broke his current train of thought. He turned to see Bonecrusher standing there with a large piece of metal.

"...oh! Right right," Mixmaster said, accessing the current list of chemicals he had created from the resources that he was able to acquire down here thus far. Finding the right one, the nozzle above Mixmaster's cranial covering began to churn out the adhesives that Bonecrusher requested.

"Wonder what their glitch is, huh?" Mixmaster said, referencing the two departing triples. "Guess I better tell the boss."

>>"Just thought you might wanna know, chief, the two trips are going bye bye bye!"<<

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Brawl was angry. Not too surprising given being angry was more or less baseline state for the Combaticon warrior. Nonetheless, the reason for his anger had decided to grace Onslaught with his presence and suggest yet another grand scheme of his. One that Brawl expected to backfire just like the one that had resulted in Swindle and the rest of the Combaticons walking separate ways. Brawl wasn't exactly sure whether Swindle leaving had been Onslaught's decision or the munitions expert's own decision but that particular time-out had probably saved Swindle's life. For it had not just been Brawl who had been ready to dismantle Swindle that day.

That of course was in the past and since then Onslaught had taken Swindle back to the fold which was something Brawl had to grudgingly accept. On the other hand, it did little to remove Brawl's mistrust of the smuggler.

"Back off Swindle! Boss doesn't need you ruining everything with your thrice cursed schemes!" Brawl butted in before Onslaught had a chance to reply to Swindle. "That's one half processed idea if I have ever heard one! And I am told I've been the source of plenty!"

This was of course Brawl's opinion on the matter and he was nowhere near being a deep thinker. He was seeing only the most obvious fault in Swindle's suggested plan, not any possible ways of countering the said problem. "Shockwave ain't ever going to believe the flesh sacks were able to spot, let alone drop one of our warships even if they had a weapon that could damage the Obliteration!"



Base Caverns

Scrapper had found it easier to interact with Hook by seemingly taking similar approach towards the other Decepticons as the surgical engineer did. Acting like he was above the other Decepticons while reassuring Hook's own view of his superiority made Hook at least somewhat less likely to complain about everything. Not to mention it made the perfectionistic Decepticon far more focused on his work instead of searching for faults in the work of others. The other Constructicons knew this was an act from Scrapper's part and knew it was a signal for them to scatter before Hook went ballistic on them.

Usually they knew better but this time Scrapper had been forced to completely ignore Bonecrusher's uncharacteristic worry to avoid yet another unnecessary yelling competition that would be successful only at wasting their precious time. All their work was coded and catalogued for future reference needs. Devastator was no different from their other projects and by naming the project similarly to their other work made it just one project code among hundreds of thousands of similar references. Scrapper certainly didn't need Bonecrusher starting to give input on matters outside his very limited area of expertise. All concerns the bulldozer could think of were already being taken care of by him and Hook. About that Scrapper was adamant.

"Worry not about Mixmaster, Hook." Scrapper chuckled, "As eccentric he is, there is no denying of his sheer genius when it comes to what he does the best. He truly is an idiot savant if I have ever seen one."

>>"No grand deed is achieved without sacrifice my friend and Devastator if anything is worth of such a minor inconvenience."<<

>>"Just thought you might wanna know, chief, the two trips are going bye bye bye!"<<

So, Astrotrain and Blitzwing had had enough? It wasn't all that surprising and hardly something Scrapper really cared about. As far as he was concerned, it was a problem for Starscream or Razorclaw to solve. Those two after all, were the ones who had claimed the leadership of the Decepticons for themselves. And truth to be told, there was little Scrapper could do about the triplechanger without a major patron packing him up. At least for not that was - Devastator was going to change a lot.

>>"Acknowledged Mixmaster. Let them go. They are Onslaught's problem, not ours."<< Scrapper replied back to the chemical engineer and opened a direct comm-link to Onslaught. >>"It appears our triplechanging comrades in arms have decided to take their leave. You might want to have a chat with them if you truly mean what you have said so far. I'd rather not see them fleeing to Shockwave's lap."<<

Yellow Sea Shoreline

Ramjet appeared with a flash of light, Slipstream was still holding onto his arm. He knew he must have been single for a while, considering how long this moment lasted in his mind. Either way, his thoughts were interrupted with an abrupt lack of Slipstream on his arm.

He looked over and noted how Slipstream was going to call him. Wow. Either she likes him, or she utterly despises him and wants to use him for dead-weight favors. Ramjet was more inclined to think the former than the latter.

"See ya." Ramjet mumbled, resisting the urge to fly with her.

But he knew that he was there for another reason. He knew that some of the Constructicons would be open for his rule, especially since they know that he "Appreciates them".

He began to trudge off in the water, and immediately he felt the water begin to seep into his joints. He didn't like the feeling. He knew it too well on past missions when he went down in the middle of the ocean. Not a fun experience.

He followed the footprints and tire tracks -- Probably made by Long Haul or Bonecrusher -- down into the darkness of the Yellow Sea.

He walked in between a few rocks when he saw it: A skeleton of a dome large enough for a fortress. Marvelous. Simply marvelous.

"We are out." Said a voice that was familiar.

It was Astrotrain's voice. Ramjet turned and saw two familiar Mechs: Blitzwing and Astrotrain, and by the looks on their faces, Ramjet mused, they were not happy.

Ramjet caught up to them while they were trudging off, "Blitzwing! Astrotrain! I didn't expect to see you guys here!"

He heartily pat his commando friend on the shoulder, "How've you been?"

*****

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Bonecrusher felt the weight of the adhesive spill onto the paneling. It was minor, and he quickly compensated for the increase of weight.

"Beats me. Guess they fig'rd that they were 'all washed out'! Ha ha!" Bonecrusher joked as he began to walk to the skeleton of a base and began to place the paneling on it.

He put it in the exact place that it was required and held it there. He felt the adhesive quickly tighten and harden. He gave it a pat and it held fast to the structure. Bonecrusher nodded to himself in satisfaction and walked over to the pile of panels and grabbed another.

Bonecrusher then walked back to Mixmaster and readied himself for another blast of adhesive.

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

As Brawl, Swindle, and Onslaught continued their argument, Psychosis' twisted frame wondered in, and he was in a bad mood...

Psychosis will not tolerate this, no, Psychosis must have his fun...yes...his fun. Psychosis does not like this situation...no...this situation is not in favor of Psychosis! Psychosis must stop arguing...yes...it does not help Psychosis...they keep this up Leader will not be happy, and when he's not happy Psychosis has no fun...Psychosis MUST have his fun. "Psychosis says to cease and desist these actions...they do not follow the plan...when plan doesn't work Leader is not happy...when leader not happy, Psychosis not happy...when Psychosis not happy..." with that Psychosis' EMP talons extended, Psychosis must have his fun...

Bottom of the Yellow Sea

Onslaught had listened patiently as Swindle had laid out his latest proposal. The Combaticon had seemed lost for a while, but seemed to be coming back in to his own. Onslaught wondered what had prompted the change. Regardless, it was good to have each of his unit functioning fully up to form--particularly Blast-Off, who was likely on the verge of a mental breakdown at this point. At the end of the day, however, they were all soldiers, and soldiers did their duty. No questions asked.

Swindle was a capable negotiator, one of the best even, but Megatron had never chosen him to join the ranks of strategist and Onslaught could see why. His proposal had merit, just as Vortex's had, but there were flaws. There were some practical flaws in its conceptualization and potential execution, as Brawl had made clear. But the true obstacle was the fact that Onslaught did not see himself in a position to make a call that rash, just yet. Not when everything here at this makeshift base was quiet and going as they had wanted. It was Razorclaw's responsibility to make those calls, not his.

"Vortex is harboring similar notions to yours, Swindle. Returning Blast-Off to the fold. Regaining full use of the Obliteration. These objectives have not escaped me. We are in no position now, however, to take such actions," Onslaught began. "Your proposal is not without merit, though it will need some refinement. I'll submit a version of your strategy to Razorclaw when next he contacts me. I have to assume he is shoring up our alliance with the Stunticons and dealing with Starscream in some fashion. I have no doubts I will be the first he makes contact with when he's finished. We've established that much in our alliance thus far."

Onslaught was going to elaborate further, as he had no trouble with keeping his men informed of the politics that were at play. Swindle, in particular, would likely appreciate the delicate balancing act he was engaged in right now. But Scrapper's transmission put a temporary halt to that discussion.

Onslaught looked up and around, attempting to find the two triplechangers. His optics locked in on them, heading up one of the submerged cliff faces towards the surface.

"Combaticons, stop those two," Onslaught said, pointing out Blitzwing and Astrotrain. "Non-lethally," he added, knowing Brawl in particular would benefit from the clarification.