Transformers Post Prime Rp! Renewed!(Open/Always Accepting!)

[O.G.]

Whiteout grinned to himself when he heard the mech on the road transform into bi-pedal mode. Luck was a fickle mistress, but right now it seemed he had her wrapped around his little finger. He gave a chuckle when Kat squeaked and jumped backwards in surprise upon rounding the rock, and his chuck was renewed for a second round at Bullet's exclamation. When the double agent finally revealed himself, he did so with a rather perturbed Kat in his hand. Whiteout looked up in amusement. "Don't just go around scooping up native lifeforms without asking! I thought you had better manners than that, or was that just a little show for the Big M?" he chastised through his grin, mostly on behalf of his unfortunate human companion. "Tiny she may be, you should know by now I don't make any alien life form a pet, or have I not chewed your ear off with enough stories?" Whiteout had liked it when Bullet was actually around and active within the Decepticon ranks. He was anything but murderous, and he could appreciate the mech's lack of loyalty to the insane faction.

Whiteout shrugged off Bullet's reaction to him when he finally did take a moment to stop ogling at Kat and appraise him. He couldn't help but bark in quick laughter at Bullet's insinuation that a human might have caused all of his damage. "Try something a little bigger--like swarm of Insecticons bigger. Coulda handled them no problem, but this nightmarish grandpa of a mech caused a localized electrical storm that, long story short, complicated things for me in the air and spit me out like this. Not my finest fight." He flashed another grin, pausing to look over the more superficial damage along his armor before looking up again. "Ha! You wish I'd let myself go! Then you'd finally look pretty in comparison," he joked, perking up at the song Bullet proceeded to play. Earth music. He hadn't looked much into it, but he supposed he should leave it to Bullet to plunge head first into such media.

Chuckling at Bullet's enthusiasm, Whiteout finally pushed himself form the supportive rock behind him, a few internal mechanisms and joints popping and groaning, before he stood up, giving a few exploratory stretches to familiarize himself with a comfortable range of motion for his damaged body. Overall, he was satisfied with his range of mobility, all things considered. "Make this moment last forever?" he echoed the lyrics. "I appreciate the sentiment," he teased, bobbing his head a little to the rhythm of the chorus of the song before glimpsing Kat again and remembering exactly what he wanted and how she didn't need to be around to hear his plan.

"Alright, fun is fun." He motioned for Bullet to cut the music. "Now put the human down and let her be on her way. She's had an eventful day." After speaking this audibly, he sent Bullet a direct comm. link message. -I want to talk to you about something.- He hoped this would get Bullet's attention well enough for him to shoo Kat on her merry way.

Hijack was quite empathetic to Arachnid's frustration despite being in the dark, though he was somewhat alarmed on his own that there was anything bothering his queen so much as for him to be ordered to put a halt on the production of her precious synthetic energon. What could shift her priorities so strongly? He knew how much she despised feeding upon her army--what could be worse?

He nodded his helm, clearing away his lab space for new projects as Arachnid had commanded. "Beast type?" he inquired, wishing to best know how to battle the creature which had Arachnid so upset. He wanted to be as effective as possible so as to make sure his queen was happy again as soon as possible, so that he could focus upon the synthetic energon she so needed. "Mind control...effective?" he added as an idea, wondering, if, indeed, the creature would fall weak to his natural weapon. He could possibly convince it to slay itself if Arachnid did not want it on Earth, or, better yet, he could recruit it to her side.

Shockwave had, in all probability, broken a record for how quickly he had restored his lab to full functionality. Without a full scale war and various necessary projects to tamper with to help accelerate Decepticon victory in said war, it was only logical that he complete his task with such efficiency. It was quite dull to him, though it had given him more than enough free concentration to notice reports on his long-dormant geologic energy monitor, meant to detect and monitor hidden stores of energon on Earth. Their records, once stable and predictable in their methodic mining, were now haphazard and severe, though they had something of a chaotic pattern to follow. It was most intriguing, nothing like the patterns of either Deception or Autobot mining activity. Though he would soon be busy planning a seamless usurpation of Nightshade, he would take the time to investigate the mysterious subterranean energon store disappearances. It would be most shortsighted of him to ignore what could quickly become an imminent threat to him during the time it would be necessary for him to remain on Earth.

Finetuning the components of a secondary computer system that had been slowed with dust, the lab's areal monitoring systems alerting him to a midsize warship approaching at several kliks per nano-cycle. Its energy signature, however, was confirmed to be of matching identity to the one which Nightshade had contacted and had rendezvoused with for a proper investigation. Had Nightshade found it appropriate to bring the ship to his lab without any prior notification? It was almost perturbing, though he had to weigh all the options and consider the possibility that the ship's passengers had indeed been hostile and were now coming to his lab after having potentially offline both Nightshade and Pharma. It was quite plausible that the Decepticon ship had granted its passengers vision of his lab, though it was foolish to panic. A simple, targeted signature sweep confirmed both Nightshade and Pharma to be online, and with a brief, short ranged message, he was able to confirm by Nightshade that the ship was friendly. He deactivated the lab's defenses with time to spare before the ship landed above, making use of the time it took for Nightshade and an unknown amount of others to meet him by returning stray tools to their proper location. He stopped when Nightshade appeared, followed by an unfamiliar femme, Pharma, and--

Shockwave's attention was fully turned to the fourth arrival, which instantly split into two beings at the sight of him. They rushed to him excitedly and clung to his arms, gleefully crying out to him. He looked between the two, to Flux and then to Vortex, uncomprehending as to their affections but regardless quite satisfied at what Nightshade had known to bring back to him. "Your revelry is illogical...Though I had expected you two would survive the war whole." It was all he said to them before looking back up to Nightshade. "Though small, they are my most successful combiner. I will make good use of them," he stated. Indeed, he had been robbed of precious time concerning the duo. His brief studies had been insufficient. He wanted to know precisely why they functioned in such perfect mental harmony while his other, more powerful combiners had failed at attaining such cooperation. If he could discover a definitive secret, he could create combiners for himself of both lethal intelligence and strength.

When Shatter spoke, introducing herself formally, Shockwave only nodded his head once in acknowledgement. "You brought them here?" If she had brought Twinstrike, perhaps she had brought other useful experiments for him to reacquaint himself with. He proceeded to turn his attention to Nightshade after Shatter answered him affirmatively. "Are there other Decepticons on board, perhaps some of significance?" he inquired.

Shatter pondered over the reasons the Autobots might be lingering upon Earth as she flew, though, in an aircraft designed for interstellar travel, it really was a quick journey. She could only suppose that they intended upon protecting Earth from straggling Decepticon forces, though the Autobots had no idea what was in store for them. Soon, Shatter would help Nightshade amass vast armies of Decepticon followers. She would help Nightshade right her father's mistakes, would help Nightshade bring to Cybertron the regiment it was destine to be ruled over. If she could not, she would fail at everything she believed must happen, everything she believed was inevitable, and she did not want the future to be postponed. She was prepared for evil's reign, so long as Nightshade, in return, would reward her loyalty with a respectable rank and special privileges under her rule.

She arrived with the ship at the coordinates given and prepared the vessel for a landing near the loading and unloading port revealed by the Decepticon ship's specially attuned scanners. She landed the soon-to-be war vessel with precision. After all, she had been flying the thing for who knows how many stellar cycles, and, furthermore, she was a flier herself. If she could not land a spacecraft over a simple port, she would be ashamed to admit to her type. Before she could announce their arrival, Nightshade was summoning her, as well as the combiner on board and the scientist who had accompanied her to the rendezvous originally. Leaving the ship on standby, Shatter abandoned the bridge to be guarded by a few agreeable soldiers before meeting up with her new leader, the combiner hot on her heels. Her optics narrowed, and she was tempted to swat the freak of scientific achievement away, but, at the moment, she was somewhat distracted. She knew where they were going--Shockwave's lab.

Shatter had never personally met the cycloptic mech before (she was about as scientific as a lug nut; she had never been the type to be meeting with minds like his), but she had heard the stories. Her imagination ran quite wild with them--a dark, lumbering juggernaut of mech. The floor trembled when he walked, the haunting glow of his single optic preceded him when he appeared from dark shadows, his single hand operated stained with the energon of his lab rats. The shrieks of victims from Eons ago, victims of only hours ago, shrilled and swirled tumultuously about him in a cacophony of wretched agony spanning the ages. His reputation quite frightened her, though she would not admit to it.

As she followed Nightshade deep into the layers of Earth's rocky surface and into the Cybertronian-carved cavern beneath, her suspense could not have filled her more tightly. Claustrophobia found a flier the most easily, and, as she, indeed, heard the rumbling echo of heavy footsteps below, she could not help but feel just a little that the walls were closing in around her. She kept her bearings, of course. She was frightened, not a coward. Her steps remained sturdy upon the final descent, and she had no time to appraise the most fearsome Decepticon scientist before she almost jolted at the sound of instantaneous transformation from behind her. She looked back only to have to whip her head forward again, watching as the combiner --formerly whole-- ran as separate persons up to Shockwave's towering form where they...clung to his arms like desperately excited sparklings. Looking up at Shockwave's impassive demeanor, she almost felt foolish for her previous fear. Her imagination was not always her greatest strength, though now she could confirm the mech's reputation for apathy, and that was disconcerting of itself. Two tiny creations of his were all but jumping at his feet and it seemed that he could offline them without a second thought in this very moment despite his words, which were spoken as though from a non-sentient computer rather than a living being.

"Shockwave," she decided to take initiative and speak despite her misgivings--submission to fear was never becoming of any self-respecting bot, "your reputation precedes you. I am Shatter, and I am quite pleased to have chosen to bring with me to Earth an experiment of your liking." She had a feeling that Shockwave was not one for heartfelt introductions, and, indeed, he was not. It was eerie to meet a being with such little spark. As a femme who spent her days before the war exploring the sparks of others and their reasons for acting, she was thoroughly disturbed by a mech like Shockwave.

Haze took most of Corrode's claims lightly a best. However, he was most inclined to believe that he had been trapped in his stasis pod for some time, perhaps centuries as this mech had suggested. His joints ached like they had not been used since he had been born, and he was on an unknown planet that was teeming with enough Cybertronian life that he had been discovered. Unless Corrode was alone on this world, though he doubted that. Where there was one Cybertronian, there was always more, and if there were more, it was likely that this planet had been colonized. And judging by his bearing's lack of orientation within this strange galaxy, this was a place far from his home world, and by all experience, distant worlds took a great deal of time to be discovered and colonized. Despite any potential stretch of time since he had been forced into stasis, however, Haze could not believe that Megatron had simply given up with had started with such grit in the throes of Kaon's gladiatorial pits.

Haze grunted when his leg was captured by the fractured and crumbling pieces of Corrode's leg, attempting to wrench himself free to no avail. "It was no gift," he growled. "Keep your "charity" to yourself; I have no want for it." Nor did he have a want to remain with this bizarre mech for a moment longer. He was repulsive, albeit intriguing, and every moment spent with him was a gamble, it seemed. Bearing true to Haze's mistrust, Corrode unexpectedly aimed his minigun at his chassis and unloaded three clean shots around his searing wound. Haze hissed, expecting that his terms had not been agreeable and Corrode had changed his mind about him. To his surprise, however, the shots were not lethal. In fact, the typical ion blasts which came from his weapon were absent entirely. Instead, a chemical pollutant came forth to counteract the thermite's blistering redox reaction to the heat it had been exposed to earlier. In almost an instant, it cooled and crystalized, leaving only a remnant burning sensation caused by exposed extremities of his nervous system.

"You want to stop your body's accelerated entropy," he realized bluntly. Perhaps he would have been more intrigued had he not still been pinned to the ground and threatened like some sort of hostage meant to pay his own ransom. In theory, Corrode's desire seemed simple, though, if it were simple, Haze supposed the mech would have fixed his problem for itself. He imagined the problem being deeply rooted in some intertwined place between the mech's biology and chemistry. Hoping to spare his life, Haze decidedly did not mention his relative lack of experience or practice as a chemist. His weapons were a small side project at best, developed over centuries for his lack of time to dedicate concocting and testing them. He was relatively certain he could repay his debt to this rickety mech, though it would take time he wasn't sure Corrode had the patience for. "Doable, though I must know what you have given me." He almost released an audible sigh of relief when he was released from his magnetic prison, only just sitting up on his elbows when Corrode snatched one of his optics cleanly from its socket, with only a pinch of pain to alert him.

He growled, rising to his feet swiftly, though stiffly, and nearly stumbling when he found himself seeing for the second time. This time, however, he was not certain who he was staring at. Had Corrode changed his appearance? But how was he transmitting sight to him? The nanites he had used the first time and had disintegrated. It made no sense, and Haze was infuriated. He wrenched his optic out from Corrode's socket, flinching when he saw a black hand, hoed in a green fog, seeming to reach out for him. When the optic was out from Corrode's socket, however, his world went black again, and he realized that he had seen himself for the first time. "I will not become integrated with you in any way." He screwed his optic back in its place, where it would be useless except to make him appear less alarming to others. He proceeded to hoist his weapon back into his hands, though held it distinctly at ease as not to rile his superior adversary. "I will aid you, as requested, by combining your chemical compounds with some of my own, not by becoming a convenient scrap heap from which to steal valuable parts," he informed sternly, an imposing figure now that he was not pinned uselessly to the ground. "Until then, we will keep in contact as is necessary." He opened up his own personal radio frequency for Corrode to copy down for future reference. "When my debts are paid, our contact will cease." Without further ado, Haze turned and lumbered away into the expanse of this strange new planet, pushing aside thoughts of how he would approach Corrode's commission to instead collect all available data on the planet and search for Decepticon frequencies.

[Senrage]

-i seem greatly amused by your blunt statement regarding my desire-, took you long enough, but as your probabally thinking. its alot more complex then what it first seems.... the main reason is this parasite. or my nearly life long partner. whichever you prefer... a failed experiment from a scourge egg. or atleast... half a failed experiment -i chuckle the small motion causeing creaks and groans throughout my body along with a distinctly organic slithering sound- the other half, -i seem to pause thoughtfully my demeanor softening- has given a brat named whiteout quite a run for his money and a hell of a headache i believe.. -i say watching you as you stumble to your feet not even flinching as the hand comes and tears the eye out with much less finess in what should have been a somewhat crippling pain is shrugged off like nothing-

cocky brat... -i smirk- i think i like you ill give you one more bit of data and gift for amusing me. -i say as nanites swarm toward your chryo pod and seem to be making 0 three objects from the scrap of your pod, one to haze is very familiar an eye almost identical to his own. the second appears to be a pistol of sorts. the third barrel clip of ammo of dozens of different types in heavy compression for what is an extremely heavy and abundant source of ammo of which most of the stasis pod disappears to fill-

here...-i grab the pistol in a somewhat affectionateway and throw it over to haze along with the clip with weighs a ton but alot less then it should considering it just-



its old tech, it wont ever over heat it would more likely melt before it did and that would be after a extensive fight. she can hold any ammo type you want -as is to accent that point the slot whirrs adjusting in size and shape to accept different ammo types-
only thing is she fires very slow but hits like a cannon. shes been imprinted to your schematics so she wont accept another user save i. -i cross my arms after taking the eye from floating in the air and popping it into my socket.- use her well. theres some trial ammo in the mag for you to test out otherwise youll want to head south. theres been some fluctuating decepticon energy signatures in that direction. likely a ship. or a base of some sort. -some dust falls from my frame as i twist alittle looking to the south south east something apparently grabbing my attention-......

regardless. you might learn somethings you dont like. be ready for a fight... -i leave the remaining nanites working upon hazes armor to finishing their work and seeming to burrow inside minor problem systems and other areas doing slow repair/ calibration work- later smokey - i say before suddenly shifting into my other form a large mustang car that looks built from the scrap of dozens of cars and been through dozens of wars. the engine revving before i charge down another path in a cloud of kicked up dust- toward a particularly large heat signature that suddenly appeared from underground-



-as soon as pacific touches my overheated form the threat of his plating melting spikes nearly to the overheat point the metals of his finger plating and servos turning dangeriously hot and almost softening, as soon as the blast mask comes off a mix of energon and another distinctly organic liquid hisses at the edges of the masks edges. what else comes out is an exhaleation of raw steam. which also seems to be rapidly cooling my plating whatever the foreign liquid was. it was distinctly effective where as the energon being super heated simply rolled down the chassis and plating like marbles unable to stay in a stream like form, as the plating starts to cool and crack appear at various part of my body smaller amounts of this liquid mixed very thoroughly into my energon, start cooling the rest of my plating making my form. barely. tolerable to carry upon pacifics truck bed.-

ghk.... -i groan clenching my hands as pain erupts throughout my body repeating and several loud high frequency pinging sounds from plates of metal cracking and breaking inside my frame echo out causing some disruption to all detection systems save for optical and radial scans, a particular shard of my plating makes a extremely high pitched cracking and snapping sound as the shard breaks and launches off my frame at extremely high speed flying over into lects direction. by chance it seemed, until right before it hit the earth it bolts sideways and slaps onto the side plating of lectors plating with a magnetic field, perhaps the superchargeing. super heating and then extremely rapid cooling gave it a magnetic property or perhaps something else occurred as while its field is extremely powerful its not causing any system disruptions what-so ever. whichever it was that has occurred it had effectively attached itself permanently to the plating for the outside of her right thigh with a loud ping.-



-the hunger drives me all pain numbed and dulled not even noticing the acid sprayed all over my hide and food as i devour nearly all of it except that which has seeped into the earth, the acid eating into my teeth and mouth as well as my armor and hide my digestion fueling my body from the brink of death rapidly begins to assimilate the new acid but not before it causes some serious damage to my body not enough to be fatal but enough to be cautious, pausing for a moment a hissing sound and burning sensation slowly fading into my simple mind as i become more driven by the instinct to survive and hunt then the raw desire to feed- .....-it all floods in at once a wave of pain as the new assimilated acid floods through my veins a burning agony as it becomes a part of my system-,.....-i let loose a ear splitting screech to be heard for miles as the hounds acid becomes a part of every organ every bone and every cell. first eating into the flesh then becoming part of it, an immunity to lesser acids and the ability to produce this particular acid becoming distinct in my biology. as i writhe in the sandy earth in pain splatters of blood and fresh acid spraying around here and there from my inflicted wounds. they almost immediately begin to close as soon as the acid is nullified and absorbed but they are still grievous enough to need time to heal,skssh.... -i hiss softly in pain before slowly turning back to my caves for a safer place to heal and regain my strength-

-i burrow into my tunnels once more my mind and stomach wandering to the surface where more to feast on, may be found scents carried on the wind of pollution, grease,......meat. lingering in the final breaths of wind i took from the outside, as i slither back into my burrow i come across the place where i had encountered the strange yellow and red bot-.....-something wasnt right
my instincts where alarming me to be fearful yet it should be food.... the stench left behind making me wary at just the smell of it. a threat from a long time ago? old threat? -possibility of very basic nature swirl around my mind as wait for my wounds to knit and heal-.....-soon... i will prey once more.... -as the thought of food invigorates me once more my senses slowly expand as nutrients flood through my starved body my strength returning-....

[KiraTamaru]

Pacific grimaced at the terrible amount of heat that Concussion still had, but said nothing of it. he had suffered worse heat, and knew he would be fine. It was Concussion that he wasn't sure would be fine after today. They didn't necessarily have a base to go to, or he didn't. He hoped that the little velocitronian would have some place to go to, so he continued to follow along after her. He glanced in his rear view mirror several times, checking time and again for the creature, ensuring that it wasn't following them, at least not above ground. His sensors didn't indicate that it followed below ground either, so they seemed in the clear, for now. Now all they needed was a medic for Concussion, as well as for himself. He continued on after her as they approaced what appeared to be a large rocky outcrop. It would make good cover he supposed. Though what he really wished for at this point was a medic, not for cover. As they drove closer, he realized that the outcrop had more to hide, and as the speedy bot took off ahead of them, she seemed to be driving right toward a flat wall of the rock. Before he could say anything, the rock slid upward, revealing that it was, indeed, an autobot ship. He let out a small thank you to the allspark that they had at least this much to go for them as he drove into it after her. It wasn't a big glamorous ship, like the Voyager, but it was big enough to house them, for now. He continued in until he found a place to safely unload Concussion before transforming.

Meltdown followed along behind Pacific, careful to clean up any leaked energon, ensuring that they left no trail for the creature to follow. He worried about his Master, without his hammer arm, how would he fare? He knew that bot's could get replacement arm's, but only when there was a medic and spare parts to do so. He had read up that Starscream had once lost his arm, and that the medic known as Knockout had replaced it completely. Would there be such a medic for Pacific, he wondered? He watched as a piece flew out of Pacific's bed and seemed to magnetize to the speedy bot. He tilted his head, wondering what had just happened, but kept to himself as he continued to silently cleanup of any leaked energon. As they approached the rocky outcrop, he noted how the speedy blue bot went ahead and activated the door to an autobot ship. He would remember this point and location for future needs. He continued on, checking time and again if they were followed before entering the ship, relieved that the door shut securely behind him.

Lector realized, that she was the one leading this little band of misfits. She was a bit surprised that the larger one so readily followed her, but she supposed that was going to have to be alright. She knew of one downed autobot ship nearby. She had recorded it's spot just in case something like this happened, just in case she needed a place to go to be safe. So that's where she drove toward. She let out a bit of a gasp as she watched a piece of scrap fly out of Pacific's bed and latch onto her side. It didn't seem to interfere with anything for now, but it created slight drag in the wind. She'd have to have it removed as soon as possible. She detested anything that could possibly slow her down. She sped on, the ship slowly coming into sight. She wished she could speed ahead as she so wished to, but knew she had to stick with Pacific for now. The large rocky outcrop didn't outwardly look like a ship, but she knew exactly what hid within it. A small stash of energon, some medical supplies, and a safe place for them to transform and relax. It would do as a temporary facility. As they drove closer, she pulled ahead of Pacific and tapped into the ship, having it open up for them as she drove right for the door. As she neared it, it opened up wide. She glanced to make sure they weren't being followed before she quickly entered and awaited for the others to get inside. Once securely inside, she had the door close. She assumed the minicon was inside, though wasn't too sure. She than transformed to take a look at the piece that had attached itself to her frame.

Kat let out a small sigh of relief as, finally, the newer 'bot known as Bullet let her down and even shooed her lightly toward her truck. She waved once to the two of them before she went on her way. She wanted to prepare at least a bit more. Especially knowing now that they would be going around the world. It was a bit of a daunting task, and it made her heart flutter a bit, but she would do her best. She hopped into her truck and took off for her shop. She would need more than she anticipated. She put on her own music once more, a nice quiet sound compared to what Bullet had been playing. He seemed nice enough, especially compared to the giant bugs. Though she supposed anything was nicer than those had been. As she entered the outskirts of town once more she pulled up to her shop, pulling the truck into it's place. She was thankful that she could have a shop such as this that doubled as her home. She went inside and took her time with a shower, she wasn't really sure when she would get this luxury again. When that was done she more formally packed up clothes for any kind of weather, as well as her repair kit. She really did hope to learn more about the robots, enough to help anyway. After that she couldn't help but go and once more work on her project car. She had, after all, gotten the parts she had needed the last time she had gone to the junk yard. Working on her car relaxed her, it was something she was familiar with, and after a day like today, she needed something relaxing.

Bullet smiled and nodded to the spoken words, turning the music off, and lightly put the earthling down before lightly pushing her toward her truck. He waved back to her and turned back to Whiteout. "So, what's on your mind Whitey~?" He asked nonchalantly as the human drove off. He couldn't help but tap into the stereo of her vehicle for just a moment to see what sort of music that particular human listened to. After just a moment, he decided it was a bit too slow for his taste and turned his full attention to Whiteout. "So, insecticon's are on this planet then, huh? That's not exactly news I wanted to here. And here I thought that I was in some luck, after hearing about Autobot's being here. This is quite the busy little planet, isn't it?" He asked as he looked over Whiteout critically. "You look like you could use some energon though" he commented as he shifted his pedes into a more comfortable position, waiting now to see what Whiteout had to say.

Nightshade listened as Shatter introduced herself, and watched as Twinstrike once again formed into one bot. What sort of brain washing did Shockwave do to make such a loyal being, she wondered. She knew how horrific his experimentation was, she had learned much about him. Being a loving figure was not one of them. Yet Twinstrike stood obediently and, even happily, right at his side. She was sure to make mental note of that, and listened as Shatter and him had exchanged a few words. She thought back over those she had met so briefly "Currently on board, there appear to only be drones. Though I have dispatched the spy, Bullet, to go investigate the Autobot activity and find out just what they are up to here on earth. The more we know about our enemy, the better." She said she she turned to look at the monitors.

After being split up, Flux and Vortex quickly jumped into eachother's arms and formed once again into Twinstrike, standing giddily beside Shockwave. She was giddy with excitement at being praised so well by their creator, and wondered what he could have in store for her that would be of good use. She loved doing anything that he deemed was of good use, and would, at this point, only do anything that he so commanded. Until their next order, they stood behind him at the ready. Outwardly they only showed a small smile, inwardly they were practically singing with joy at being with their creator once more.

Arachnid paused her pacing as Hijack brought up mind control. She thought about it for a few moments. "Hmmm, perhaps if the creature has developed a mind to control, this could indeed be very useful. However, we need to find a way to get close enough without risking ourselves.." She paused, thinking deeply. "Yes, it very well could work.. Make me a batch of your mind control formula." She ordered, it was a gamble, but if it paid off, she would be in control of one of the most deadly creatures in the galaxy.

[O.G.]

Whiteout watched as Bullet allowed Kat to step off on the ground, his cool blue optics following her casually as she began to round the rock. He offered her a grin and waved back with Bullet, his gaze not leaving the truck she drove off into the distance until Bullet spoke. His attention turned to the double agent. "Swarms of them. They operate like one mind, cluing to Arachnid's continued existence on this planet," he offered offhandedly. He didn't mind to throw a few tidbits out to his colorful little friend for free, a small token of gratitude for treating him a little better than a slave during his time under Decepticon possession. "Eh, not many Autobots here, so far as I can tell. A little blue sportscar, a raging wrecker, and a little minicon sidekick are all I've come across here. There's this real irksome speed demon and that crazy grandpa I was talking about, but I'm not so sure how closely they're aligned with the Autobot cause, though they sure do seem to favor it over the Decepticons," he replied. "Looks like the malicious lot prefer this little organic oasis. My guess is most of the Autobots are busy on their new treasure Cybertron, if not restoring it then pacifying fleets of malcontents blaming them for the war." Whiteout chuckled and shook his head. "Politics." He hated them mostly. Too complicated for his taste.

He perked up slightly as Bullet brought the conversation around to energon, the perfect tool for digression. "Actually, that is exactly what I wanted to talk about with you," he informed through a grin. "You see, since Megatron forfeited the way, I've been freed from my bondage to the Decepticon cause. I'm free to do as I please, and my first order of business is to tour this world with Kat, that little human female you just met. Thing is, my energon stores are located several galaxies away and I don't currently have a means to get to them so, I thought "Don't." And then you came along, and there are traces of other Decepticon signatures all over you." He motioned briefly to Bullet's form. "So I know you came here recently on a passenger ship, presumably from deep space, and deep space travel requires a fat storage of energon to sustain the lives on board. I need you to help me get some of that energon, Bullet, just enough to last an Earth year or so, maybe less if we can't get enough. All I need is for you to get me on the ship and point me in the direction of the energon--I'll do the rest. For you, low risk, no punishment right? It'll be easy, and in return I'll take you to the Autobots." No, he didn't actually know where they are since he had last seen any of them, but Bullet didn't need to know that. He had tagged that little blue femme, and once his systems were repaired and rebooted, he could lead Bullet straight to her...though he felt a little funny at the thought, like it was wrong somehow to rat her out, like she was the last creature he would ever wish to lead harm to. But he brushed it off for now, disregarding it as foolish and some side effect of his processor's damage. "We got a deal?" He crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one leg, expecting the deal to be made.

Hijack was intrigued by the things which Arachnid said. She respected this creature clearly, but what was it that had her wishing to tread so lightly? He did not dare ask, for if his queen wanted him to know she would inform him. Perhaps, when the time came to reign the beast, Arachnid would brief him on the monster he was up against. He simply bowed his head at her command, getting to work immediately on creating the virus.

Shockwave nodded once to Nightshade's unfortunate report. Drones, of course, were quite useful in their willingness, versatility, and expendability. It would be logical to request a project of duplicating the drones to add to the number of Nightshade's growing army, soon to be his own. Though his lab could not accommodate for even a small army, and Shockwave began to ponder the ship as it had appeared on his radars and the data he had scoured from it. He watched Nightshade turn to some monitors before he spoke.

"The ship Shatter has brought to us appears to be a large cruiser, versatile, armed, but with relatively light armor. It would be logical to repurpose it as your temporary base of operations, now that you have begun to culminate an army. I could easily program the drones to reengineer the ship with more durable armor, heavier weaponry, and more sophisticated cloaking projectors," he informed her, unaware that she already had plans to use the ship as a base of operations. He was not interested in crowds imposing upon his lab. Solitude promoted the most efficiency, as he had learned best when being marooned on Cybertron by Starscream. Regardless to that, of course, his privacy would breed his success in overthrowing Nightshade, when the time inevitably came. If she had her nose poked into his every monitor and was constantly hovering over his shoulder, he could not be successful. "If you find this suggestion to be satisfactory, I also request that you allow me to begin producing more drones in the likeness to the ones on board the ship," he added. It would be a simple project, one that would leave him with an abundance of time to resume his studies and experimentations on Twinstrike as well as attend to some other more covert business.

Shatter, as the last of any attention from the others was directed away from her, took a discreet moment to let her gaze sweep over Shockwave's lab. It appeared very pristine and sophisticated for having built on Earth, though she supposed that could be attributed to all of the Cybertronian technology he had surely had access to at the time of his lab's construction. It wasn't a particularly warm place to be. In fact, it reflected its possessor quite perfectly. Faceless monitors, the occasional cold flash of a colored light, the monotonous hum of machinery humming on to the direction of a precise program. Shockwave must have felt quite kindred with his workspace. Perhaps it was why he had taken so thoroughly to science. Like him, it had no inherent ethics, no moral conscience to restrain it. If he ever found himself to be squeamish by his own atrocities, all he would have to do is absorb himself into his lab and be comforted by its total apathy. Beautiful, but rather chilling.

Shatter's thoughts digressed at the mention of Bullet's name. Primus, she was glad he had been sent so far from her, even if she had been infuriated by the privilege at first. Quite sadly, she knew he wouldn't be killed. He was too harmless for an Autobot to do so much as glare at, ever so kind and heroic as they were. She didn't know much about Bullet other than a generally slacking loyalty to the Decepticon cause, which revolted her, but she had a feeling he would take quite a liking to the Autobots once he found any, if there really were any on Earth now. Who would remain on this dusty little rock when their was an entire glorious and revived Cybertron waiting for them? She supposed she could ask herself the same question, but it had a simple answer. The Autobots were not Cybertron's destiny. Decepticons had been its destiny since the end of the Golden Age, long before the war had even began. The Autobots just could not accept the laws of fate. Once goodness fell, there was nothing which could resist the gravity of a total moral decay. It was sad, yes, but she had herself to look out for, and the only way in which she could save herself was to join with evil and make herself its closest and most privileged friend.

Shockwave's input on her ship was quite pleasing to Shatter's audial receptors. If Nightshade had any doubts on her decision to repurpose her small ship into a new Nemesis (which she doubted the femme did), she likely no longer held any misgivings. Shockwave had a reputation for being a logical bot, not prone to failures or oversights. Things were already looking bright for her in this new chapter of the war, even brighter than before. She mad made herself distinctly useful at a crucial time in the new uprising, and she hoped desperately that Nightshade would remember her valuable service. In time, she hoped to also display her loyalty to the femme's reign, hoped to gain her trust and favor. She would be a valuable ally to Nightshade if the femme would only let her, and she intended that the femme would.

[Senrage]

-as lecter begins to examine the plate that had attached to her it has become readily apparent that it has now fused becoming streamline with her own plating some sort of connections spreading out from it it seems benign but at the same time its spreading fast until a new HUD appears with a connection system too two terminals one is a flashing blip nearby specifically over concussions broken from still slightly smoldering with steam and heat in some places the second holds the designation "cathedral", but before anything can be noted your signal systems are over ridden and a blast of sos signals fires toward the ships antenna
using it as an amplifier a signal is erupted straight up into the sky and in near every direction. it takes a moment after the original discharge it takes a moment for lect systems to strighten themselves out the new hud now steadily doing a dta transfer through a data stream somewhere above. yet no data regarding you or others the data look mainly to be diagnostics when suddenly a single symbol dominates the entire signal. the old age cybertronian signal for "biohazard" erupts massively turning the SOS into a ALERT- ...Guh.......-i groan suddenly as if some new discomfort suddenly assaults me-.....GHK!!!! -a gnawing hunger assaults me-.....(this is...... what..this sensation....it gnaws...)
i think to myself grabbing into the metal before me my fingers sinking into the metal like butter as i attempt to get a grip on myself my mind struggleing against something fighting merely to remain concsious as waves of darkness smash against my mental defences the few remaining lights on my chassis flickering on and off or flashing red and yellow-


a sudden blasted signal SOS and data strem a sets of a code orange alarm the entirety of the station erupting into alarms- Warning. priority 1 alert class orange. scourge class bio-hazard awakening detected., target location..... Vanguard assault Commander peacekeeper forces. deignation "Concussion" initiating bio sleep protocols. -i pause in thought useing every single ounce of calculation power of my currently active AI Core to find out exactly what occured to push concussion the breaking point as several subprocesses prepare 3 drop pods for launch. spare parts. bio sedative. and medic drop pod-, OVERDRIVE, -i send the comm through the speaker systems- drop pod bay THREE NOW! -i say finding her docked into her computer systems running calculations . initiating a forced disconnection i eject her form the terminal and into a nearby shoot. rerouting the chute direction i angle it to line up directly to the nearest gear hanger she falls through the vent and smashes confusd into a large pile of old and unused guns-


Overdrive: - im browsing the results of extensive stress testing of various upgrades designed by concussion
thousands of them in moments where normal browsing would take days. theres a sudden blackness as the system shuts down-
Huh?! HEY! Cathedral wha..!-im suddenly ejected into an awaiting shaft- H..HEY! WHAT GIVES! - it takes a few moments to get my bearings before i realize the flashing orange lights and repeating message of the orange alert designated location- o..oh..! -SMASH!- OW! I got it! it got it! I'm moving! -rushing through the armory i grab the stardard pistol and wrench before pushing through the old decrepit doors and into the nearest bay- whats the ETA on full contamination of systems cathedral!? -i shout as my metal peds clang on the gridwork flooring rust falling from some ancient bindings as i floor it through the remaining halls reaching the bay and strapping into the pod the doors slamming shut right before the second pod ejects with Nitratious plasma jets making everything flash white- IM IN!

Approximate time of concussions erosion in. T Minus 1 minute. -i say as a i launch a holographic timer into all nearby peacekeeper comms within 20 light years via subwarp expanded bandwidth- drop pod 1... Launch.. -the station suddenly shakes as the first drop pod is launched immediately smashing into the atmosphere causing a burning streak of white as it bears down upon its target. contact. t-minus 10 seconds. -the second pod launches just after screaming though the atmo on a marginal course just fractions off as it barrels toward the location, noting the arrival of overdrive and her securing into the pod it launches with a statement- May those who bear the mark of the keepers hold close their lives... while those who bear its scars repent their sins. and those.... who wield its blade. fight forever....-upon the end of that not the pod drops. T-minus 30 seconds.

-upon the new HUD a countdown has started along with a small audio message and order. "RESTRAIN CONCUSSION"
PRIORITY ONE ALERT. RESTRAIN CONCUSSION FOR IMMEDIATE BIOSEDATIVE INOCULATION. as soon as that message appears the loud screech and shriek of metal being torn erupts from where im laying, I'm literally tearing through the metal just trying to keep my head on straight (the world is hazey.....is my vision failing...?) i think to myself as it grows dimmer and dimmer-



that damn brat... -i say to myself as i floor it blasting through the now most ruined city with refugees of all sorts scattered here an there on my display is a far more detailed display of concussions vital a dark mass beginnning to writhe within its core- like hell im loseing another one to this damn plague...... -i roar my engine breaking the 120 mark as i bolt out the other side of the town i hit the dust of the desert skidding sideays leaving a cloud the swirl lazily before i blast the fuel once more making a bee line toward the auto both ship as i see 2 pods fall from above one smashing right through the roof into the core area the room right next to concussions location moments before the second pod punches through INTO the roof hes in on the far side but still close enough to cause a hell of a jump in all floors of the ship- well atleast those brats work fast..... -i mutter to myself as the thrid pod decents slightly slowly likely the medic as they wouldnt have survived a full impact drop unlike the other 2. screetching up to the side of the ship i transform at a main hatchway-........ ah this is an old autobot wreck.... wonder if my old buddies codes would work on this one... -i send the signal of old tech autobot commander codes- would you look at that, --i say as i walk into the interior toward concussions location apparently secure in the knowledge that the peacekeeper medic was on her way- that damn brat better not be rampaging when i get there.....-a dark memory flittering throgh my mind as i move through the old corridors-

[KiraTamaru]

Pacific grimaced as he watched the process that Concussion was going through. He had sympathy for the bot, but he was no medic. He took a few steps back, being sure to avoid stepping on anything that may have managed to get under his pede's. After the time he spent on Junkion, he was very conscious of his size and did his best to avoid making anything go, well, squish. He watched as Lector somewhat freaked out, responding to some new addition to her plating, as well as some beacon that was shot from her. He grimaced further, all of this was strange, it was too much. He took a few more steps back as he tried to take it all in. It's not that the big bot was squeamish, but rather that this wasn't his particular field of specialty. He knew that in times like this that the best thing for him to do was to stay clear out of the way. As he heard the orders to restrain Concussion from Lector, he gave one curt nod before stepping forward, reaching with his only arm to pull at Concussions arm. The 'bot was much smaller than he was, though he knew very well not to judge strength purely on size alone. He grimaced still at the intense heat that poured off of the poor 'bot, but silently bore the pain, knowing full well that Concussion was going through much worse pain than he was. He looked up only when he heard the forced entrance of several pods, as well as the ramblings of the old bot from before. He let out a soft sigh, but continued to restrain Concussion with Lector.

Meltdown growled as he watched Concussion writhe. Watching another's pain was never something he rather fancied, but it's what he did, ever collecting data. Trying to figure out what caused him to really act as he did, as he suspected that it was more than just the heat that caused him to act as he did. He knew he didn't have the physical ability to restrain Concussion, so rather he acted as a silent observer, documenting, watching, but never interfering. He watched, as well, that Lector seemed to be getting an upgrade from the scrap, or what appeared to be scrap, that had flew off of Concussion earlier. Just as like junkion, there truly was no scrap that couldn't be made into something better. What may be perceived as scrap could be something much more. This made him watch her with particular interest, as well as watching Concussion. Who was this bot? Where was he from. He would give his front pede's to find out. But for now he circled, and watched.

Lector couldn't help but let out a small gasp that the scrap that had attached itself to her had suddenly seemed to be integrating so thoroughly into her system, to the point that it brought up new parts of her hud. She grabbed at her helm as she tried to take it all in. The bio hazard sign really catching her off guard. She looks up at Concussion, her optics wide as she sees him beginning to freak out. Her head seeming to spin with all the new information pouring in and, apparently out. A signal being shot up in an SOS. She falls to her knees for a moment as her mind races to keep up. She was used to taking in a lot of information fast, that's what you had to do when you moved as fast as she did, but even this was a bit overwhelming to her. As she got the audio message to restrain Concussion, she couldn't help but call out to Pacific "Restrain Concussion! Now!" She knew that the big lug only had one arm left, but she knew he was fully capable of helping for the most part as she ran over and helped as well. "Help is on the way" She told Concussion firmly as she held down his arms with the help of Pacific. She looked up from him only briefly as she heard the pods crash into the ship, and as she heard the lumbering steps of an older bot. She watched Corrode warily at first until she recognized him, relaxing only for a moment, though remaining focused on restraining Concussion all at the same time.

After working on her project car, and managing to get it to actually start, Kat let out a small sigh of relief, and so much as even fell asleep in the drivers seat after getting the car going. She of course had turned it off before falling asleep, though woke stiff after sleeping in the drivers seat. She was excited though, her project car was finally complete! She let out a small cry of relief, giddy. She started it back up, unable to contain her excitement she backed it out of the garage and took off down the road in it. She listened happily to how it's engine roared with life, as well as how smoothly it drove along the deserted roads. She couldn't help but test how well it drove, going well over the speed limit as she drove out of the outskirts of town, where the cops almost never went. She knew where she'd be safe, in that aspect anyway. She even dared to do a bit of off-roading. With the desert, she knew that it was all flatland, safe enough to drive on. Sure enough her car held out. She gave another whoop of excitement as she drove. Knowing she was alone and secure in not fully being judged on her actions. How could she not be happy though, she had worked on this car for years of her life? Soon though she began driving back to her shop, fully relieved that her car did so well on it's first drive. She couldn't help but laugh giddily in the drivers seat. What a day.

Bullet nodded as he listened to Whiteout talk. He took note of what sort of autobot's there were. Wreckers tended to be harder to deal with than most. Though once he showed them that he was on their side, they could be a bit more understanding. Sometimes. Though he was rather familiar with the fact that some wreckers simply didn't seem to care if the was turncoat and tried to offline him as well. The wreckers lot is who he tended to avoid if he could. If there was only one though, it might be easier. He was aware of some of them, such as Bulkhead and Wheeljack, and knew that they at least were on good terms with him. As good as they could get with him anyway. He tended not to get overly attached to much of anybot on either side of the war. Too many were offline'd. He thusly wondered in passing which wrecker he would be dealing with, if it was one that already knew him, or one that might still fight first and ask later. It was always easier to get just about any other bot to stop and listen. The stopping part was the easier of the two parts. Listening was another part entirely. It was then that he realized he had been a bit too lost in his thoughts, though he still managed to catch what Whiteout said, or the tail end of it. To this he couldn't help but frown just a bit "I suppose it wouldn't be much of a risk, this much is true" he trailed off a bit as Whiteout asked if it was a deal. From his stance, he looked as though he was already sure that the deal was made. He rolled his optics, he wasn't so easily swayed. "You see, I only just got away from those brutes. Even with it being low risk, I only just got out!" He stretched, thinking. Whiteout had been about as close to a friend as he let any bot get. Sure he didn't want to return to the decepticon ship so very soon, but.. He sighed, and and shook his helm "You've got a deal. But I will hold you to your offer. I don't exactly want to go back, but you need the energon more than I need to stretch, I suppose. Call it a fair trade." He shook his head, perhaps he was too easy on Whiteout sometimes, but he supposed that's what made them friends, or rather, close enough acquaintances. "Come on than, if you can transform, do so, I'll lead the way." he grumbled playfully before turning and transforming, ready to take off when Whiteout showed he could follow.

Nightshade turned and nodded lightly to Shockwave "Do as you so wish. The ship shall remain as a mobile base for the army. Upgrading the defenses on it shall be a priority." She remarked "And you shall have your precious lab to yourself." She commented, letting it be known that his intentions weren't fully as hidden as he seemed to think they were. She looked at him meaningfully, than turned once more to the monitors for a few more moments before turning to Shatter "Come along then, we shall all attend to the ship, that way you" she turned to shockwave "may begin producing more drones, as stated." She than turned and walked toward the entrance.

Twinstrike just barely contained herself from glowering at Nightshade. She may be the superior in this situation, though that didn't mean she had to particularly like the femme. She watched all the other bots, including Shatter. She didn't scowl, or any such thing, rather she just seemed to watch with a nonchalance that she always carried when she was combined. She looked to Shockwave, wondering how her creator would react to Nightshade's attitude. She stayed obediently at his side, and said nothing, following a, don't talk unless talked to procedure that she tended to keep to.

Arachnid watched Hijack for a moment before going back to the monitors, looking for where the larva had moved to. "We are lucky.. It's still very young. Or rather, it hasn't eaten enough to become too dangerous, yet.." She muttered, knowing that Hijack would be listening. "Right now it's still in it's larval stage.. But if given the chance, it will evolve into something more.. A hatchling.. A destroyer.." She growled as she scanned the monitor. "It's something that would be the end of this planet. MY planet!" She growled in frustration.

(running out of steam, sorry if my post got short near the end xD)

[O.G.]

Name: Speedtrap
Gender: Mech
Weapons: Dual canons which rest atop either forearm
Faction: Autobot
Rank: Scout
Bot form: Speedtrap is a medium sized and moderately armored mech. His main body is black, and along the left side of his chassis runs his signature red stripe. On either side of him and stretching towards the front of his chassis, are the vents of his hood, causing them to look somewhat like ribs. Through the vents, a vibrant blue glow can be seen emanating beneath from certain angles. Though his high design shoulder armor is black, his forearms are white, save for his cannons which are both black, the left one also displaying a red off-center stripe. The sharply designed armor along his shins and calf is also white. over his optics he wears a vibrant blue visor which extends from his black helm, which also displays a left-lying red stripe.
Alt. (Vehicle) form:
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/f2/a9/32/f2a9323f8f7653d1225da348ddb84bd6.jpg
Personality:rebellious, bends the rules, conceited, inexplicably angry, temperamental, deceptive, shallow, listless, good at spark (though he tries to play the bad boy)
Crush?: No one.
Family?: Twin brother, Burnout
Other?: Before any war was waged on Earth, he was a subordinate within an elite team of scouts. His brother Burnout, however, worked as an Autobot spy. Time, however, corrupted his brother and Burnout got mixed up in some rather incriminating business. Speedtrap defied orders to help his brother hide his crimes and get him in the clear. Sadly, in doing so, he had to bury himself in some pretty nasty Decepticon business. Unlike Burnout, however, Speedtrap was caught redhanded and refused to give up his reasons to protect Burnout. He was promptly tried and convicted of treason and sentenced to imprisonment for the duration of the war. However, the prisoner transport ship he was boarded onto was attacked by Decepticon forces looking to free some valuable allies also aboard the ship as prisoners. The ship crash-landed on Earth and was ransacked by the offending Decepticon forces. Speedtrap was the sole survivor of the ordeal and remained on the ship even after his awareness of Optimus Prime's presence on Earth in fear that the Autobot leader would be aware of his crimes. He has spent his lonely days attempting to repair the crash-landed transport ship with limited results so, he likely won't appreciate it when three space pods crash through his ceiling.

Whiteout almost couldn't hide his smirk at the way Bullet rolled his optics. Bots like him were too easy to read. He'd whine, complain, think it over in his head, remember all the good times they had together, and finally agree. What a sucker. Not that he disliked Bullet, of course. He'd made acquaintances with a few other suckers in his time, though he couldn't say any of them had lived as long as Bullet had. Hopefully, no one would pay to have Bullet "taken care of."

His grin finally cracked when Bullet went through all of the motions only to at last come to an agreement. "A fair trade it is." His signature smirk maintaining its flippant, arrogant quirk, he nodded his helm. "Besides, I just got out of there too and I'm still willing to go back. With ol' Megsy out of the picture, this'll be easier than stealing energon goodies from a sparkling." With that, he leaped into the air and transformed, feeling a few pinches in areas that were not fully healed. "Lead the way, two face," he beckoned as he hovered. No, he wasn't undermining the threat that Nightshade could be. He'd heard stories on everyone, her included. She wanted to walk in her daddy's shoes, though he supposed she had aspirations to actually rule a planet. Perhaps she had what it took, but a part of him believed she was a simple wannabe daughter who had been shunned and ignored and now had a glaring need to prove herself. Whiteout thought bots were crazy, but maybe he was wrong about her reasons. His accuracy was a little irrelevant, of course. He had heard she has a raging temper and lethal battle skills, and that was what mattered. Fortunately, he was an expert at in-and-out missions. He'd sneak some energon right under the deranged femme's nose; she will have only noticed her diminished supply after he was long gone without any trace of himself left behind.

Hijack found it hard most of the time to convey that his ability to control the minds of others was a natural ability of his, an in-born virus that self-coded within him as a part of his biology. What he was making was a simple concoction that would amplify his body's output of the virus. He would empty some internal storage pods within him to make room for the extra strings of codes. Most likely he would target and delete some lesser viruses he had created on his own time, things his body couldn't make but were less useful anyway. He wished he could tell Arachnid all of this, but it seemed there was something that prevented him from it, and it was neither his volition or disability which held him back. Perhaps he would forever wonder what stopped him, but, for now, he had other commitments. His top priority was to listen to his queen as he finished his concocting.

Hijack was not well-educated, not in any conventional standard. He had no clue what this soon-to-be hatchling or destroyer was, though its final form sounded rather...devastating. Though Hijack could not imagine how devastating until Arachnid shouted out her dismay. Hijack bowed his head, staring down at the face of his work station. He turned after consuming his coding accelerator. "Will not...occur. My vow." He bowed to her loyally, pledging his determination to preserve the earth for its rightful queen.

Shockwave nodded his head to Nightshade's permission to do as he so wished, a pleasantly lenient command. He found her proclaimed top priority to be a most suitable one; he, too, believed that modifications to the ship were most detrimental. He was already imagining an array of modifications to be taken into consideration, entire blueprints forming in his mind based on the radar image of the vessel he had scrutinized before. Of course, a complete dissection of the cruiser's composition, material types, engine and electrical systems, and other functions would be necessary to fully understand the ship's compatibility with his various visions. He would begin the task at once, in conjunction with the preface procedures leading to the duplication of the drone types aboard the new Nemesis. His mind was racing ahead of time in acute detail, though all thought processes were put on halt at Nightshade's following comment.

He looked at her directly, optic focusing in on her and observing her pointed expression for a silent moment. It was as though she intended her words have meaning, though she could know nothing beyond irrelevant suspicion. It reminded him once again how he must gain her favor as he had once had with Megatron. "As is only logical," he replied monotonously, bowing his helm vaguely before Nightshade's attention returned to the monitors. He watched as Nightshade and Shatter left through the way they had come, and then he turned to Twinstrike, who had remained at his side for the duration of the conversation. "Procure for me one of each type of drone aboard the Nemesis for duplication," he instructed, seeing it as most efficient to utilize Twinstrike in other ways than another experiment for the time being. With his command finished, he turned from Twinstrike and lumbered to a particularly large computer station at the far end of the lab, where he began the procedure of readying it for a multiple analysis stage.

Shatter watched the interaction between Nightshade and Shockwave, quite in tune to her leader's implications of suspicion. For what reason Nightshade was suspicious of Shockwave, Shatter could not yet fully understand. He was a walking computer from what she could tell. Even his response to Nightshade was in kinship with some automated, pre-programed response. Chilling, but perhaps therein lied Nightshade's suspicion. Who was to say that all of this "logic" wasn't some sort of mask hiding whatever truth he deemed worthy of secrecy? Perhaps she would ask one day for Nightshade's opinion on Shockwave, but now, after only first meeting her, did not seem the wisest of times.

She turned attentively to Nightshade when the femme turned to her, bowing her head in agreement to Nightshade's instruction before following her out. Quietly, she was relieved to be out of the lab. Though nothing Decepticon built or overrun screamed "warmth" there was something particularly cold and unnerving about labs. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that she had no idea what anything in them did or how they worked, or if she might become the next resident lab rat.

Once at ground level and ascending for the ship, Shatter decided to speak up. "What shall you have me do, Your Eminence?" she inquired. She hoped it wouldn't be something too menial after all she had done. Though Bullet had seemed to gain the most glory from Nightshade upon their arrival, perhaps she had misread things. After all, with Bullet sent away and Twinstrike left with Shockwave, she had the sole honor of remaining at her new leader's side. Promising.

He had been minding his own business. That's what he had been doing. He had gotten a little too mad at a faulty actuator and had smashed it with his fist, along with anything else closely connected to it, and then he had stormed off to the head security officer's old berth room and had thrown himself onto the berth for a quick recharge--the tenth so far today. There was nothing to do on a broken ship marooned on an alien planet except for to attempt repairing the ship, get angry that his attempts kept failing, and recharge. It was mind numbing, but when he looked up into the night sky from the windows at the bridge to pray that something would happen, he had never expected that something to be three dispatch pods crashing through his roof, the final smashing into the floor right next to his precious helm.

"..."

"BWAAHH!" Speedtrap sprang from his self-assigned berth faster than a wrecker sprang away from the threat of civil surrender, scrambling to his feet only to nearly slip and slam his helm against his own berth. He caught onto its edge just in time and leaped back up, staring wide eyed at the pod which now smoldered halfway lodged into a formerly pristine floor. Primus, was this some kind of joke?! He could feel his energon boiling, his hands clenching into fists. It wasn't until the pod cracked open that he hesitated to physically assault it. A...femme? The reality that another Cybertronian was actually in front of him was jarring, though instead of celebrating, he couldn't help but slowly blister as he realized that she was the cause for the brand new, devastating damage to his ship. It started with a lip twitch, then a growl, and then he tore a piece of debris off of the floor and chucked it with all his might at the space just behind the femme's head.

"What in the Pit? What the frag?! What did you do to my ship?! Do you have any idea how long I've been working on this piece of motherless scrap?!" He ripped another large piece of debris off of the floor and chucked it in the general vicinity of the pod. Then he actually looked up to the hole in the top of the ship and yelled out in both horror and fury. He launched himself at the partially opened pod and reached in, grabbing the femme by the plating of her chassis and pulling her face right against his. "If you don't fix this, so help me Primus I will tear you apart limb by limb and use your scraps to patch up that hole above my head!"

[Senrage]

-i begin to struggle​ abit something i need... something! what,,, is this.... this..... -i scream inwardly as my arms are pinned to the floor by hands i cannot see, no... dont stop me.. dont....ghk!....-i claww at the metal on the floor as moments feel like eons i struggle suddenly knocking both of the bots off guard with the raw amount of strength- let me go...-i mutter under my breath as i slowly put up more and more of a fight against he unseen hands blackness flooding my vision as another mind...
crushes and crashes against my own {let me go let me end this ...this ACHE! -i jolt suddenly one arm nearly throwing PB clear off of my body the metal and plating of my arm groaning against the sudden influx of strain., a moment later the weight of the larger bot is gone only to be quickly replaced with the sharp sting of pain as my arm is neatly and cleanly bolted to the floor-GHK!!! Ga,,,,.....- my mind what little conciousness i have left nearly fades away when something suddenly hits my back flooding my systems a sense of releif and freedom of thought floods back before my mind goes blank and my oculous sensors close. into a "sleep"-


...-my pod falls rapidly burning through the atmo smashing nearby to the other two pods straight through into the helm of the ship , T- 15 seconds.....till full system corrosion of concussion..TCH....-i hit the opening switch of the door with a solid kick pushing it half off in the process, however as soon as my pod open chunks of ship plating are thrown at me-.. the frak?! -i dodge the pieces right before an unknown bot grabs my frame and starts swearing something about the ship and demands-.... i dont have time for this... - grabbing my oversized wrench it suddenly changes form into a small plasmite screwdriver. a very quick scan let's me locate a sensitive control cluster right before punching it in through a small crack in the bots chassis right into the control cluster, the screwdriver emitting a small plasmite emp burst effectively shutting down all motor and sensory systems temporarily, if not painfully- the bots grip weakens dramatically from the burst. -swiftly swinging my knee up to his chassis i knock him back into the berth he bolted out of, the charging jack left eskew jabbing the bot in a rather uncomfortable spot and zapping him. non lethal but DEFINITELY UNCOMFORTABLE-..T-13...seconds till full corrosion..... SCRAP! -i bolt down the hall reaching the second pod which is already open sliding my arm rapidly into a slot of a large medical injection system with two tanks as i ran by one tank a mass of green bio gel the other a tank of intensely concentrated energon. a lethal amount for cybertronians. T-9 seconds....to full system corrosion, continuing through to the next room i see 2 bots restraining corrode the rapid increases in raw strength in concussion nearly toppling the big bot with one arm. my peds slam into the metal plating of the floor as i approac, simply giving the big bot a light push at the right spot after a particularly violent attempt by concussion to break free of the grip which easily causes him to fall off of concussion and out of the way.- T-3 seconds.....till "YEAH YEAH I GOT IT ALREADY!" -i shout annoyed mounting concussions back right up against lector, as a spike comes from my left knee as i slam it down on concussions free arm effectively bolting it to the ground while in one quick practiced motion slamming the injector in place on concussions back where there is a small hardly notable bio-hazard panel. the injector smoothly punctures the panel both tanks immediately pressurizing into his system t-1..........system stability restoring biohazard threat diminishing, -concussions fighting suddenly comes to an abrupt halt and he slumps against the floor underneath me and lector-....-i wait a few moment as the rest of the fluids are injected-.....systems stable.. lifting code orange to yellow. emergency aid required.....-whew..i let out a large sigh slumping back onto concussions back-...too close.......-i say exhausted looking lightly over at lector with an almost sleepy look- mornin captain....-the injector falls from my grip and i fall forward on-top of concussion-.....zzz...-passed out-....((before anything is said its supposed to be entirely weird that she actually fell asleep note still working on it just had a idea mid day and didn't wanna lose it))


-i snort lightly as I walked up into the chamber with concussion starting to go beserk-....... -i notice the blue femme tense up for a moment when she sees me before bringing her attention back to concussion-.... Better learn from this you damned brat...-i say lowly as I begin running scans on everyone in the room when a petite femme busts through the doors during a stronger scuffle to hold concussion down merely giving the big bot a light push in the right spot to knock him off balance and thus out of the way administering a fluid I'm not familiar with along with immense amounts of energon-....hoh... -the whole process perks my interest as I detect the biohazard threat levels drop almost to nothing in mere moments-.....{damn brats found out a way to subdue the early stages... Would have been nice to have a few trilennia ago....} -i think to myself as I observe the process-..... { Can't hurt to get a sample later.... Never found this method myself might be something I can use...}} -i chuckle amused at the small femmes reaction shortly after the whole thing is complete-....... Pays off sometimes to worry about those 3 scrapped brats..


-i burrow into the earth deep under the dust desert when I feel the vibration s of some moving around above me the lingering scent or energon filtering down through the earth. My would still healing but new plating has begun to grow in once more notably thicker and veined through with a dull green glow of the acids now contained within the plates much more jagged and sharp with a thin filmed green edge.-..... food.....-the acheing hunger still lingered but a fragment of what it wonce was but still gnawing. Turning towards the scent and vibrations I burrow through the earth as if swimming my body devouring and filtering Through the earth for the few ores and fragments of metal within slowly reinforcing my carapace after falling the originally erratically trail I find my self puncturing into a of concrete... The sewer systems. I followed the scent to this place to the city the smell of live everywhere above me... (A feast to be had.... )-i burrow through the concrete following the smell of energon leading me to a sewage take ripe with the smell of oil grease and rust..... Metal... ....mass.....,...food.. -i the tank it self are several piles of scrap that seem to have filtered through over the years and more recently the bodies of a swarm of Insecticons had been dumped here... Their bodies still fresh with energon....-..... sustinance...... -i pimally think as I writhe my way to the nearest corpse and begin my feast-

-one watching the situation below with space to ground electro mappers I observe the situation as it unfolds below. Another biohazard signal constantly shifting around soon making it's way into the core of a human settlement.-..........
launching probe.. -a small cloaked probe drops down above the town deep scans lilluminating the area as a holiday map on the cathedral-...


((Ok done!))

[KiraTamaru]

Pacific stumbled out of the way of the doctor as she had pushed him in just the right spot to get him to nearly topple over. It's why he didn't much fancy doctor's, they were annoying with their knowledge of anatomy like that. He took a few steps back as he looked up at the old bot that had entered, as well as looking to where the femme bot had come from. He had heard a commotion of yelling and, as he watched the femme fall right asleep, he wondered who had come with her. He than had to take a double take. She had passed out? How very strange. Sure it was stressful to operate, he was sure, but to simply pass out in such a manner? He than saw how Lector stared at the femme, as if she was looking at a living ghost. It was enough that, he couldn't much bare to watch, and moved to the room the doctor had come through. He wasn't much for sentimental's anyway. He knew Meltdown would stay behind to document everything anyway. So on he moved to the next room, one hand grabbing lightly where his old arm used to be. Perhaps there would be a place to sit down and recharge for a bit. That's when he saw another 'bot. It wasn't one that he fully recognized though. Just that the fellow had an autobot insignia showing who's side he was on. Good. No more of these neutrals and 'cons. He had just about his fill of 'con's for the day anyway.

Meltdown watched as Pacific stumbled off into another room and got to work silently watching over everybot that was in this room. He knew the big lug would be fine on his own. So he busied himself with observing, silently. He recorded everything that happened, mostly for his own records. If given the chance, he would have become a librarian for records. For now though, he would simply watch, observe, and take in each bot's mannerisms.

Lector continued to hold Concussion as a femme bot came rushing in and pushed Pacific out of the way. She was so focused on keeping the speedy bot down that, at first, she didn't fully take in what the newcomer looked like. Not until it was all said and done. She let out a sigh of relief that Concussion seemed to have powered down in a safe manner. She than looked to the doctor, and froze. It couldn't be.. She blinked, once, twice. It was still her. But how could it be..? She recalled the memories that Concussion had shared, but never fully took them in. Never paid mind to that part, for how could it be true? Yet here she was, passed out, and all she could do was stare. Lector had never before held still for so long, but she found that she couldn't do anything other than stand there, still, frozen, and stare. It was almost too much for her, to see one of her old teammates alive. Alive and well! But here she was.. Finally, Lector fell to her knee's and scooped up the femme into her arms and simply held her close. A feeling she thought she'd never have again. Pure relief.

Kat parked her car again in her house and let out a soft sigh of relief. At least she had finished that. She was happy about that. She stretched, yawning. She locked up her shop and moved to the house part of the building, going to get a bite to eat before going and laying down, passing right out.

Bullet inwardly rolled his optic's again. Classic Whiteout, always wording things to get his way. He of course trusted him no further than he could throw him when it came to holding to his word, but it's not like he truly had anything better to do. He took off down the road. He was no velocitronian, and wasn't exactly the fastest bot out there, but he would get to where he was going, and Whiteout would simply have to deal with his speed of choice. He knew very well what Whiteout had done to the planet Velocitron, and that the bot had known the inhabitants very well. Not that he'd bring it up with him. It wasn't something he bothered with talking about. Still, he continued on, the location of the ship in his hub, and found that it had moved to a new location, not that it much surprised him, it was a ship after all, not a stationary building. He pulled up some blueprints and wondered vaguely how vigilant the crew would be on the ship, though also knew that he blended in well enough that they would probably pay no mind to his return. Just as long as he didn't make too large of an entrance. He keyed into one of the drones, and had them open up one of the lesser used entrances for himself and for Whiteout. His excuse for coming back? He himself needed a bit of energon for the journey. That, of course, would be if he was caught, and questioned. He was sure that he would have smooth sailing though. That was, at least, until he actually got on board. That's when he was confronted by the combiner, Twinstrike. Inwardly he cussed. Of course, nothing could ever go so smoothly for him.

Nightshade looked back to Shatter, having taken notice that Twinstrike was following along, not that it much mattered to her. "For now, we are on standby until our spy has given us intel. We must find where the autobot's are, so we may strike first. She who strikes first is the victor." She said "Until than, we must be at the ready. We must plan for what is to come. The general who wins is one who makes all her plans before the battle. The general who loses is the one who doesn't make many plans beforehand. Always remember that in war, your biggest objective is victory, not a lengthy campaign. We must dig up whatever energon supplies this planet has so that my soldiers are well prepared. That will be our first objective while we await my spy to return." She spoke as she moved to a monitor. She would have to have patience. She couldn't act too hastily.

Twinstrike nodded at her orders obediently. She knew that Shockwave preferred silent obedience to anything, and aimed to please, always. She moved after Nightshade and Shatter, silently listening to them before heading off to accomplish her own task. She picked out the finest of each drone that she could find as she went through the ship. She took notice, though, that a hatch was opening up. What for, she wondered vaguely. She walked over, and saw the spy Bullet returning to the ship, with an unknown white flier. Did he recruit new con's that quickly? Though that wasn't the assignment she remembered hearing for him. She frowned, and walked over to the pair. "What exactly are you doing back here so soon?" Was the first thing she said to Bullet, though she kept an optic on the white one.

Arachnid glanced at him and nodded lightly. How sweet that he would have such sentiment. It almost made her want to laugh at it. Though she appreciated the loyalty. She than turned back to the monitors. The beast was on the move. They would need to control it quickly, before it became too much for them to control. She would have to first find the beast before she could make the next move. She only hoped that it wouldn't be too late by the end of all of this.

[O.G.]

When Whiteout took off after Bullet, he did so low and at a leisurely speed. His most basic and essential radars and monitoring systems had regained suitable functionality to keep watch for any humans traveling down the road, in case he would need to pull up higher to avoid any suspicions. As for his crawling speed, he was perfectly at peace with it. Though he could practically break the speed of sound twice, he wasn't on Velocitron anymore. Going too fast, anymore, made his spark ache with uncomfortable sensations--guilt, remorse. Not feelings he was accustomed to experiencing so, he preferred to take things a little slower when he could. Though now, as he glanced down to the simple grounder beneath him, "slow" had him in a trance. In a few seconds time, he was transported to a completely different world.

The world around him flashed by in one continuous blur comprised of a million speeding bots, the ripping sound of revving engines swallowing up his tiny pocket of serenity at a delay--something physics explained, he thought. Of course, he didn't care anything about that sort of science or much of anything. Not in this moment, not as he idled lazily in the air, rocked and cradled by the whipping updrafts caused by the race of the impossibly fast bots who left him in their dust, not as he gazed down at the first Velocitronian who he had ever gotten to stop for him.

"'Didn't anyone ever teach you to stop and smell the roses?' That's the first thing I ever said to you," Whiteout purred through their comm. link, a rare, dreamy quality making his words lighter than air. If he could hear himself, that dopey, lovestruck tone, he would probably purge his tanks and scream. But he was never aware of himself when he was with her.

A laugh. "Get out of my head and off my comm. channel, Slugbot." He could hear that faint rumble deep within her engine that clued him in to that moment where her pistons were really beginning to itch for some speed.

"Well, you shouldn't have offered me your wavelength," he countered casually from just above her.

"I didn't. You hacked your way into it like everything else," she groused, and he could imagine the largest begrudging grin on her lips paired with an even larger eye roll, had she been in bot form.

"Did I? I don't recall," he teased, nearly cut off by an angry honk about five nano-kliks too late; he was sure the screeching bot was already well out of range. His companion groaned loudly beneath him.

"Whiteout, can we please speed up? This is humiliating!"

"Ah-ah, remember our deal, Sweetspark? I won't learn to like going fast until you learn to enjoy a nice, relaxing cruise." Sometimes, he thought he had her wrapped around his smallest digit. He couldn't believe she actually took him at his word when he kept telling her he hated speed, though it was all for the greater good, his master plan to make her his as much as he was hers.

"Ugh," she groaned again, beginning to weave side to side in a childish show of sheer unwillingness, of a boredom she surely conjured because she simply didn't want to admit that going slow wasn't quite so bad when she was with him. At least, he hoped that was her reason. "You are a stick in my wheel, a stone in my gears, you know that?" Whiteout would have grinned in bot mode.

"Ah, but this stick in your wheel forces you to see the beauty of this world. Look around!" He performed a lazy barrel roll to ring attention to all sides of him. You can witness the beauty of speed, of prismatic light and ripping color tearing by to create a constantly morphing, abstract world of--!"

"Yes, yes, you've said it a million times! But why watch it when you can be it!" she interjected with passion, her engines revving in her fervor.

"Because there are some things that you just can't be out there, Sweetspark," he insisted through a gentle laugh.

"What? You mean impossibly slow? An embarrassment to my race?"

"Well...yeah--" He was cut off from below with an incredulous laugh from her, as if she were about to ask why she would want to be either of those things. "But," he interjected swiftly, "you can also be other things. You can be peaceful, serene. You can get to know bots better than you ever thought you could have when moving at their speeds. You can appreciate a sense of self, beauty--" he could sense an imminent groan from beneath him so, he cut straight to it, "--You can be kissed by your first flier in a whirlwind of colorful strangers too busy to notice."

She laughed loudly, almost snorted at the proposition, but Whiteout called her bluff. He went on. "And you can be in a place where no one can see that..." He gave himself a sudden boost of speed to lurch just ahead of the meandering femme, performing a mid-air transformation and creating a horseshoe of ice just in front of her as he ejected his skating blades. "I." He landed in front of her on his ice pad as she began to transform on the road. "Love." He skidded to a landing stop and glided smoothly back to face her in the center of the strip. "Lector." In his stillness, his most winsome grin was but a dying flicker compared to the smile he gave, the glimmer in his adoring optics. Lector stared up at him with the widest-eyed shock he'd ever seen.

For the first time in his life Whiteout was actually afraid. Had he said too much, too soon? He had never needed reciprocation more than in this moment, and now he was terrified that he wouldn't get it.

"Whiteout, I...you..." Lector was speechless, and Whiteout realized the only way he could receive the answer to his unspoken question was to push her. He hesitated, a foreign action, and finally built the gall to reach up and curl a digit beneath her chin. He drew their faces impossibly close. The speeding world around them ground to a halt. His spark pulsed twice as fast as the world he'd forgotten. He didn't think she would let him, and then--

"Gah!" It was a quiet yell, one Bullet probably could barely hear from the ground. He gasped, a horrendous pain permeating his processor, as he reoriented himself. A memory. He'd experienced a memory he hadn't recalled in eons. Lector...It was familiar, created an indescribable joy and pain in his spark. And that voice...he'd heard it here. On this world. The blue femme. Was she Lector? Did he love her...?

Pah! Preposterous! Whiteout did not fall in love. Surely she was some forgotten victim of his selfish agenda or shenanigans. Yes, of course. It was so obvious, as long as he ignored the shivers which ran down his spinal column.

"Ah, so this is Nightshade's first toy?" he remarked as a Cybertronian cruiser came into view. "Not as...grand as I had imagined, but I'm sure she can't wait for some good ol' zoom and boom, right?." He laughed if only to drag himself farther from his startling flashback, though something told him he could never fully escape the reality of that displaced moment. He swooped lower to the ground and transformed on a freshly made platform of pure ice, which would melt quickly under the scorching desert sun. He skated up to the secondary entrance that had been opened for him and Bullet, keeping a vigilant eye as he skated up to the point of entrance, where he reluctantly traded his ice for the steely floor of the entrance ramp. He made it only just inside before a naturally suspicious femme caught them. He grinned a handsome smile at her, all the while appraising her in secret.

"Ah, a pleasure to meet such a finely tuned combiner," he greeted with a small bow, having observed the minuscule, though tell-tale details of conjunction on the femme. "Though it is not Bullet you should be cross with. It was I who intercepted his mission, though I was rather unaware until now. I am one of many Decepticons dispersed upon Megatron's surrender, but once I received Nightshade's message of rendezvous, I headed here to Earth straightaway and happened across my old friend Bullet. I asked him to show me to her base, as I received some relatively recent radiation damage in my travels that prevent me from pinpointing the coordinates attached to her message. I am simply here to join her ranks and serve," he explained humbly, finally grateful for the glaring Decepticon insignia on his chest. "Now, pardon my haste, but I must be on my way to Nightshade. And don't let me get in the way of your tasks, you two. I'll be happy to employ a couple of drones to escort me to her," he insisted, spotting a cluster of various drone who were, for some reason, clustered near the scene.

"You two," he called, starting for a pair on the outskirts of the group immediately. They looked up. "Take me to our new leader. I am in need of acquainting her with me." Without paying either Bullet or Twinstrike a second glance, he followed the two drones who had taken his order, and he disappeared with them around the corner. No sooner than they were alone did Whiteout burst forward and jam his talons underneath the plating between their chin and neck, quietly bursting their processors within their helms with an overwhelming burst of ice. He hid their bodies in an overhead ventilation system without a sound, the frost along his outer armor crackling as he stalked through the corridors out of range of most camera viewing angles. Nevertheless, he stopped underneath one once he arrived at the fourth quadrant of Deck F, where storage containment units were most likely to be located. He reached up to a barely accessible, exposed camera wire and penetrated it with a pinprick from a device which unfolded from his palm. It pulsed an electrically mobilized virus which would be directed to the quadrant's camera system mainframe, freezing them on their current feed. He grinned. "No show tonight, gentlemechs."

Shockwave paid little mind to Twinstrike as she departed at his order, having complete faith in her to return with a satisfactory supply of drones in tow. His ease allowed him every opportunity to take full advantage of his solitude. He moved back to the computer systems dedicated to internal and external detection. He accessed the data files from its collective scanning objectives and pieced them together with a smooth flourish of his digits across the command board, creating a complete three dimensional picture of the Nemesis docked overhead, along with visual access to its inner workings. He pored over the image diligently, using his hand on the holoscreen to manipulate his view to his liking while simultaneously streaming all obtainable data from the model into the computer's hard drive, where activated programs would systematically store the information into relevant files for future consideration.

Shatter had to refrain from cutting her optics back at the sound of a third pair of footsteps clattering lightly on the floor of the ship. It was Twinstrike, she already knew, though why she was following was a different story. At least she was not clipping her heels like before, though she could not say she appreciated the femme's presence. Combiners were a horrendous concept and they made her plating crawl. To have her mind and body molded into that of another's, to be torn from whole-mindedness and individuality? She'd sooner go offline.

Quietly pleased when he femme went her own way, Shatter perked up as Nightshade answered her. Standby. For a pursuit aircraft, she was quite alight with standby. Most of her job before the intermission in the war had been standby work, and she had been quite content with settling down and making home at her fleet's base. Jetstream, on the other hand, had been restless. She remembered the endless days where he would pace the floors, fists clenched, face scowling, optics burning in his unquenchable thirst for spilled energon. Keeping him in check had been her greatest task there, soothing him, setting up a stray soldier to be punished by death at Jetstream's hand now and again. Perhaps that was the real reason she had never gotten bored. She had never understood his lust for the kill, but she certainly had become the master of managing it.

"All very wise convictions," she praised, following Nightshade to the bridge, where she surely wished to preside over the ship's abundant monitors. Shatter truly was impressed with Nightshade's values of war; her compliment had not been offhanded or halfhearted. She admired and valued a strong, militaristic mind in these times. She had hardly ever personally heard Megatron speak. Now she found herself hoping that he had never spoken anything like Nightshade had. Nightshade could very well be the champion she knew must arise from the Decepticon cause, and, in fact, Shatter had already thrown herself on board with Nightshade entirely. She was ready for a victorious leader and for the new order which must come to Cybertron. She could almost taste it.

"I should find it prudent to inform you that, aboard this ship, I have a supply of energon large enough to sustain you and your army for the next six Earth months. I believe it will afford us more than enough time to locate and mine whatever reserves remain on this planet. Furthermore, I am quite capable of instructing the others on their way to bring as much energon as they are capable of carrying to us, if you so wish it," she informed from a respectful distance behind her leader. In her periphery, she noticed a slight flicker on the camera feed coming from the fourth quadrant of Deck F. She glanced briefly to the holoscreens displaying the feed only to find that they were undisturbed. Perhaps her lack of recharging over the past several solar cycles was catching up with her and she was beginning to see things, though she would bear the unusual sight in mind. "Though I must ask, how do you plan on beginning any mining operations once we locate any energon mines? This vessel does not carry any mining equipment currently. Do you suppose there are leftovers from Megatron's last campaign on Earth?" she inquired. She would like to keep herself in the loop if she could. She could make herself most useful to Nightshade in this manner.

Speedtrap continued to throttle his unwitting companion when he suddenly stopped at being scanned. "What the--? What the FRAAAG!" The emp burst set off inside of a control cluster turned his last word to a shriek, and he was rendered useless as the femme who had destroyed his makeshift home kicked him back onto the floor, where he could do nothing but experience the occasional body spasm as she bolted from the room. He grunted, fighting to regain control of his motor systems violently. "You...glitch!" he shouted after her, his fury fueling him as he prematurely regained his motor skills and swiftly, albeit somewhat more clumsily than usual, crawled up from the floor while using his berth as leverage. Charging his cannons, he raced after her, intending to make the femme pay for her crimes when Crash!

He stumbled backward after running face first into the large frame of another bot, landing on his backside with a heavy thud. "Wh-Wha--?" He blinked beneath the visors covering his eyes and looked up at the bot he had collided against, decidedly not the femme from before. He gritted his dental plates. "How many of you are there?!" Too enraged to notice the large wrecker's injured state, Speedtrap leaped up, undaunted by the mech's size, and rammed him against the nearest wall. "Who are you guys and, for the love of Primus, what do you have against my ship?!" When he didn't receive an instantaneous answer, he began repeatedly slapping the mech in the face. "Get! Out! Of! My! Ship!" Each shout was punctuated by another slap as he remained unaware to all of the other bots who could hear his commotion in the very next room.