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.