| abstract | - Shockwave walks out onto the spaceport tarmac heading towards Thunderwing's position and flanked by a Decepticon security team. The tall purple cyclops has kept to his lab mostly for the last weeks but now he seems to be actively stepping out and getting back into the thick of things. Blueshift too walks out of the base onto the spaceport, but he is hovering in the air, flanking Shockwave on his right side, optics peeled for any troublemakers. Because if there are troublemakers, then there would be lots of fighting, and fighting is awesome. Thunderwing is standing next to a Decepticon long distance shuttle, which looks a little under-maintenanced. Its main cargo-ramp is extended, and a pair of massive cargo containers have been unloaded onto the spaceport's tarmac. They appear to be connected with extra environmental control apparatuses, and are currently misting cryogenic fog everywhere. Thunderwing has his blue head lowered, studying a diagnostic pad. He looks up as Shockwave approaches, thumbing off the datapad and offering him a salute. "Commander," he says, respectfully. Gliding in on a shallow flight path, the Decepticon spacecraft known as Redshift approaches the spaceport. He makes a wide, banking turn around the area, sensors scanning the skies for any intrusions. Not like Blueshift, who's standing around doing NOTHING. Warmonger is part of this security team. He stands silently to the left and slightly behind Shockwave, rifle out and held across his chest. His sharp warrior's optics take in every detail, especially Thunderwing's effeminate helmet. A slight sneer colours his ancient face. "How can we trust a Decepticon with a powder blue helmet?" he hisses, to no one in particular. "Quiet!" Blueshift hisses to Warmonger. "Scourge might hear you!" Besides, he isn't standing about doing nothing, he is /hovering/ about doing nothing. He looks into the sky to tut as he sees Redshift trying to hog the glory again. "Nnn. This better be worth it, whatever it is. I don't like the look of those crates. Stuff shouldn't hiss smoke." A bit separate from the main group, Scourge stalks into the area. He looks like a big old Grumpy Gus -- nothing out of the ordinary -- but his usual scowling expression is instead tainted by a smug smirk that looks even worse on his pointed mug. He's mostly repaired from his run-in in Africa, but the way he leans against a wall in some spooky shadows, red eyes glaring out at the main group, conveys that he might still be a bit tender. Discord has headed out, curious to see what this Thunderwing has to show off. Standing beside Thunderwing, Outburst is surprisingly silent for now. No long-winded speeches to be made, the black form of the Decepticon researcher is instead busy taking stock of the two cargo containers, scanning each with the utmost diligence -- as if their contents meant all the world to him. As Shockwave approaches, Outburst turns, head descending in a respecful nod. "Commander Shockwave, it is an honor." And then, he is back to his scans, as simple as that. Shockwave stops short of Thunderwing and looks straight at him. "Greetings Thunderwing. What is so important to risk the long journey without an escort?" asks flatly Shockwave before moving closer to the containers and studying them. Soundwave is a late arrival to the party, clanking onto the tarmac as Glitter, the evil fairy cassetticon, flits around him in circles, leaving a trail of sparkles in her wake. But Soundwave doesn't seem to mind the sparkles, and comes to a halt somewhat behind Shockwave, allowing him to address Thunderwing. A brief, knowing glance (not that anyone can tell) is sent Scourge's way. The damned Sweep escaped his backstabbery last night, but he'll have other opportunities! Next time, Scourge! NEXT TIME! Dreadwind trudges mournfully into the spaceport ready for another action packed mission of guarding the accumulated spoils, just in case anything should happen maybe sometime in the near future. Thunderwing gives Warmonger a brief glance, but doesn't comment on the critique of his helmet color, looking back to Shockwave. "Only this," he says, gesturing to the pair of cargo containers. "Weapons -- of my design -- that have the power to turn the tide against the Autobots and capture the energy reserves of this wretched world once and for all." He smiles, nodding to Outburst. "Outburst, begin the cryogenic unlocking cycle," he orders, before looking back to Shockwave. "If we were to request escort, Shockwave, it would have no doubt alerted the Autobots to the importance of this shipment. And believe me... If it were to fall into their hands... The results would be most unfavorable." Redshift, wishing his character were a sciency-type since the contents of the crate would be more interesting. As it is, The red craft veers a little closer to try and scope out the Decepticon who's sucking up to Shockwave. Doesn't look like anything special, Thunderwing sounds like a name for a much more imposing mech. The shiny red craft decides that perhaps orbitting the spaceport would actually be likely to draw attention to the gathering, he lands and returns to his robot mode, approaching the gathering with a swagger. "Weapons? Perfect. Not that we need extra weapons now that /I'm/ back in active duty... but it never hurts to have more firepower." Of course, if Redshift knew anything, he'd know that ordinary weapons don't have cryogenic storage crates. Discord looks at Thunderwing, "So far there have been no indications on Autobot frequencies that they are interested in the activities here. However I'll encrypt our broadband for now, to prevent any further attraction should anyone else comment over radio." Shockwave takes a step back and lets Outburst do his job but he keeps a watchful optic on the pair. He did not survive this long by being an idiot afterall. He looks around and makes a quick headcount of his loyal subjects. The main ones are not here but there are enough should things get hairy. "Interesting. What kind of weapons exactly and are they stable? I presume that if you carry them in cryo-cases it means the weapon reacts to temperature. Is it safe to use?" *THUNK THUNK THUNK* Blockbuster makes his way out into he Spaceport, looking around with a vaguely bored air as he sorta blends into the background, watching curiously to see what all this hubbub is about. He takes a moment to size up this 'Thunderwing' guy, but doesn't pay much attention otherwise as he comments to Snapdragon, "Big crowd..." Soundwave stares disapprovingly at Thunderwing. "That remains to be seen, scientist. I have seen many 'perfect' weapons fail before. A more conservative approach to warfare is a wiser approach. For instance, my Cassetticons are not intended to be ultimate weapons, but rather, excellent soldiers with a wide variety of useful abilities." Glitter giggles happily at that as she flits around him. Finishing his inspection of each container, Outburst draws to a pause as he is spoken to. Cold red optics consider for a moment, before he once more turns his attention to the creates. "Understood, sir. Commencing cryogenic unlocking cycles... now." Outburst advances towards the apparatuses, beginning work, inputting data into each. The two crates hiss, cryogenic fog slowly beginning to fade away as Outburst works on the tedious procedure of unlocking each containment unit. "They are something beyond what any of us have ever conceived," is all Outburst says to Shockwave's questions. It is not his place to answer, after all. The containers slowly begin to unlock with a series of metallic clicks, powering down to allow access to what lies within. As Shockwave speaks, Scourge stalks forward, nearly bumping Soundwave out of the way -- but swatting Glitter out of his path casually because he's super mean to girls. :( "There is only one /ultimate weapon/," he says, /accusingly/, to all three of his peers. "And that is mounted to the arm of our /Lord Galvatron/. Remember that, lest I be forced to /remind/ you." As it gripped by Tourettes, Warmonger shouts, "HAIL GALVATRON!" at the mere mention of their commander's name. Glitter EEES as she is flung into the ocean, skipping off of its surface. Blueshift cranes his neck, to see if he can see what is inside the crates, hovering slightly to get a better look through the foggy gloom that comes out of them. 'Nothing that he could conceive of' is a pretty wide range, of course. "HAIL GALVATRON!" he yells too, punching a fist in the air As Warmonger yells, so too does Scourge, as an involuntary response, almost: "HAIL GALVATRON!" Snapdragon leans his head very slightly towards Blockbuster and grumbles loudly, "We left out table in the bar for this?" Discord is obliged by Decepticon law to follow the others, "HAIL GALVATRON!" "uh, hail galvatron," says Pitchfork Soundwave, not wanting to be left out, also proclaims, "Hail Galvatron." Dreadwind barely notices the incessant whining voices of Decepticons talking amiably, he stomps right past the lot of them and over to his crate pile. Yep it's still there, well some of it is and some looks a litle new, not that Dreadwind really cares one way or the other, hell he doesn't even know what was in the old crates. He walks over to the wall and slumps against it dejectedly, certain that whatever is going on with that group is going to lead to a miserable end. Blockbuster snickers a little bit at the spasmodic hailing and the pavlovian response, "Priceless." he mutters and then glances at Snapdragon, "Well... ain' like much was goin' on in there. Half of 'em came out 'ere t'see what was up. Guess we're kinna followin' the crowd." he rather conspicuously says nothing about hailing Galvatron. He has no need of such statements. "With all due respect, Soundwave," Thunderwing says with a slight smile, walking towards the cargo containers as they begin the seemingly unnecessarily complicated unlocking procedure, "I have seen the results of your 'conservative approach' to warfare, and they are unimpressive. We have been embroiled in a fruiteless misadventure on this planet for stellar cycle after stellar cycle; yet, all we have to show for it is our single fortress, cornered and isolated. It saddens me to my laser core as a Decepticon to see us in such a state. Shockwave," he says, looking to the other cyclops, "I feel a demonstration will serve this project better than any mere words I could conjure." The heavy front grates to the crates slide down, striking the tarmac with resounding THUNKS. Mist continues to pour from within even as it thins out, as a pair of ramps extend and large, bulky silhouettes roll forward into the light with a dull *vrrrrrrrrrn* of hydraulic servoes. "BEHOLD, my fellow Decepticons... THE PRETENDERS!" Reptilian Armor has arrived. Octopoid Armor has arrived. "Pretenders? TO GALVATRON'S THRONE?!" Warmonger points his Overcompensation Rifle at the silhouettes. "I, WARMONGER, will NOT allow it!" The rifle begins to warm up, but he waits for the order before he fires on these revolutionary misfits. Blockbuster stares for a few moments, "Meh, if it ain' weapons we carry an' shoot, Ah ain' interested. Ah'm goin' back t'the rib." he grins at Snapdragon, "Ah'll see yeh later, Snapdragon." the squattish aviator ducks back and wanders towards the exit, muttering to himself. "Whoa, octopus, cool I guess, could have been a squid but whatever," remarks Pitchfork "Steady yourself, jet," Scourge says, raising a hand toward Warmonger. "Allow the scientist to explain these... abominations. And /then/ we shall see if they are to be destroyed." Blueshift slowly puts down on the tarmac as he looks at the two huge, hulking suits of armour in the crates. "Uh... but what do they /do/?" he asks. "I mean sure, I guess they look neat and all, but, y'know, so do I..." Redshift has to say it /now/, everybody else has. "Hail Galvatron, long live the Empire." He says, with a bit more emphasis on the empire than the Galvatron. "How exactly are these new weapons going to improve our chances? We already have squadrons of soldiers, big bad elite warriors, and a new airbase being built. What else do we need?" He asks, before the great unveiling: His optics widen at the sight of the huge warriors that are unveiled. "Ok, they're big and ugly. But so is Devastator, what's the point?" Soundwave takes a step backwards, forgetting about Glitter for a moment. He peers carefully at the shapes as the mist dissipates. "What? What are these things, Thunderwing? Explain yourself!" Something's bothering him, too--he's not detecting any thought patterns from the objects. Just what are they supposed to be? "Perhaps... perhaps their UGLINESS is the SOURCE of their power," Warmonger says quietly, with awe in his voice. "After all... Devastator and Abominus are HIDEOUS TO BEHOLD, and they are the Empire's FINEST WARRIORS." He looks at the armor suits in a whole new light, lowering his rifle very slightly. "Such... such hideous POWER..." Blot lifts up a hairy slimy ape hand as if he wants to ask a question. He begins to grunt and "OO OO!" and dance around like a human child who has to go to the bathroom, but he can't simply seem to get soundwave's attention so finally he just yells out, "ME BLOT EAT DEM? YES?" He nods his head enthusiastically as he climbs up on the nearest Blue Spacecraft to get a better view of what's going on. At Warmonger's comment about the 'finest warriors,' Scourge feels slightest. So he slaps Warmonger across the face. "Keep hold of yourself!" he barks. "This is not the time for your /outbursts/!" Dreadwind doesn't shift from his comfy wall slump but stares blankly at the supposedly impressive achievement that these Pretenders are supposed to be. He moans loudly to no one in particular, "Great another super gun/armour/sword thing that's more than likely going to end up being turned on us as it is the Autobots, i can't wait." Discord remains silent as he see's the hideous armour, "Fleshy organics. Hmmm, well that'll win the war." The last comment has a definite air of sarcasm. Warmonger staggers back from the mighty force of Scourge's Hunterslap. He stares for a moment, uncomprehending, but quickly straightens to attention and offers a rigid salute. "YES SIR!" he replies, resuming his post near Shockwave. Arachnae pads into the spaceport area, nominally on her way to run a few.. errands and comes to an abrupt halt. She stares at the gathering of mechanoids and wonders if there's a party or an execution she wasn't aware of. Shockwave observes the armors..."I was half-expecting some quantum-singularity powered weapon or something to that effect...What can those things do exactly?" Shockwave wishes his XO and biggest loyalist were there. "I just think, you know, more tridents, more lasers, more tentacles, diving helmets... but whatever, i'm sure they'd be great to like, mine asteroids and hunt cyber whales with," says Pitchfork "Mm. Yes. Hail Galvatron," Outburst intones, somewhat absent-mindedly as he operates the controls of the compartments. As they slide open, he steps back, watching as both massive creatures are unveiled. He says nothing, allowing Thunderwing to better explain as his gaze refocuses onto those gathered. "... Hmph. You'll soon see just what they are capable of, I assure you." Dead End strides in beside Nae, arms held loosely at his side, before he comes to a stop beside her as Nae suddenly ceases all forward motion. His optical band regards the gathering before glancing at Nae and then back at the cluster of Decepticons. "I suppose they are about to start fighting over something dangerous. It seems that's what they have the most time for" he says with in a tone carefully modulated to indicate he finds it very tedious. Blot leaps up, "YES! BLOT SO HUNGRY WANT EAT CYBERWHAAAAALE!" He begins to jump up and down and beat his breast, "CYBERWHAAAALE! BLOT SKOOSH FOR FOOOOOOOD!" "I was mocked for my interest in genetics at the Decepticon Academy," Thunderwing states, his shoulders trembling a little with repressed datafiles recollecting nerd-beatdowns in the Decepticon maintenance bay. "We, as mechanical beings, have always assumed that BIOLOGICAL meant inherently INFERIOR. But this is a fallacy! The naivete of a close-minded FOOL!" He points at the Octopoid Armor. "I have MENDED the strength of FLESH and METAL together into a form that is superior to both! The Pretender Shell will allow any Decepticon Warrior to become /invincible/ when worn! Observe!" Thunderwing turns to face the Octopoid Armor, crossing his arms in front of him. "THUNDERWING - SHELL ON!" He shouts. The dormant armor grunts, lifting its helmeted head and begins to shuffle forward. A glowing seam in its body appears before it grotesquely peels apart, strands of goo streaming between the two disparate halves, revealing an interior of blinking lights, control panels and throbbing organic organs. Thunderwing does a somersault, sliding into the gooey technorganic womb, as the shell seals closed again over him, entombing him within. Scourge stares, open-mouthed. Warmonger bends over, facing away from Shockwave, and vomits mechfluid. Unfortunately, Blueshift just happens to be in his trajectory. Blueshift simply stares at Thunderwing, half in curiousity, half in horror. "Did that thing just /eat/ him?" he mutters as Warmonger vomits on him. "I... I don't understand. What's the point?" "He's a nerd, but whatever. I think he looks pretty good in it. Better than like a laser hat or a beam sword," says Pitchfork Soundwave shrinks away from Thunderwing as he merges with the Octopoid Armor. "That is... that is repulsive! An abomination! It goes against everything we Decepticons stand for! Shockwave, Scourge! Let Blot consume these disgusting... THINGS! It would be fitting for him to destroy something even me repulsive than himself!" Octopoid Armor steps forward, a light flashing in the window of its helmet as it raises its goo-dripping tentacles above its head. "NNNNYAAAAAURGH!" The creature howls, its voice a blend of Thunderwing's and some horrible organic monster. "SHOCKWAVE, SHALL I DEMONSTRATE /THE POWER/ OF MY CREATION?" It asks, turning to regard Shockwave, tentacles slithering at its sides. Redshift's mind seems to wander a bit as Thunderwing drones on about genetics and biology and his stupid sob story... Although his attention is grabbed as the shell splits open, seeming to devour Thunderwing whole. "That looks completly disgusting..." His face contorts as he pictures all that slime and /organics/ touching his perfect armor. But the idea of becoming a huge weapon of destruction is beginnig to appeal to him, rgardless. ".. How tough can it /be/ anyway? It's got squishy, gooey bits like a worthless human worm-baby." "Do not presume to order /me/, Soundwave," Scourge snaps, pointing a clawed finger at the tape deck. "I answer to Galvatron, and Galvatron only. Warmonger! Blueshift! Attack this... absurdity! Show this impudent flesh-lover that the might of the Decepticons is unparalleled!" Blot begins to leap and howl, "BLOTSUME! BLOTSUME!" He leaps from his perch to begin to romp around by the armours, "BLOT EAT EVERYTHING! SKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH" Dead End gives Arachnae an "I told you so" look before turning to look back at what promises to be an ugly struggle. Shockwave observes with a totally impartial point of view on the subject. Yes genetics were originally considered a dead end but the beauty of organic science is that it is self-replicating in many ways in a natural state. "There are some scientists who would call that heresy...I must admit I am...surprised. The probabilities of this result were less than 0.000475%." The cyclops raises his hand signaling his security detail to hold. "Scourge, that course of action is unwise." Scrapper has ventured down to the spaceport for a gander of what's going on. He's always interested in new scientific achievements, no matter how unethical, and this exhibition will likely prove to also be a freakshow. Now what loyal Decepticon doesn't like seeing a freakshow? The Constructicon is heading in from the spinal pathway, and he's arrived just in time to see this Thunderwing fellow merge with an exo-suit. The hell? Blueshift looks nervously at Scourge before gathering his nerves and striding forwards, taking out his sword. "And so die ALL filthy abominations!" he cries, powering up the weapon and swinging it at the tentacled creature. "Die, you weak-minded fool, warriors such as *I* am the heralds of the Decepticon empire!" You strike Octopoid Armor with Sword. Snapdragon transforms into his own creature-mode. "That is completely DISGUSTING!!" Greasy black spittle flies from his jaws to spatter anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby. "Scourge, I DEMAND to assist in destroying this thing.!" Dreadwind gives no sign of being disgusted but is moved to comment, "Great so this is the new torment the universe has planned for me. Fleshy shells so that i can experience what it is to quickly age and die like the flesh piles that inhabit this planet, fantastic." Warmonger doesn't hear Shockwave's counter-order, because his rifle is up beside his head, already primed to fire. "AS YOU COMMAND, SCOURGE!" He steps forward. "Disgusting flesh creature! FEEL THE WRATH OF THE GLORIOUS /MECHANICAL/ DECEPTICON EMPIRE!" The rifle belches a bolt of amber fire towards the Octopoid Armor, and even as it's still flying, the aging Decepticon Jet returns the weapon to subspace and LEAPS towards Thunderwing, hands extended. "Let us engage... in MORTAL KOMBAT!" Warmonger strikes Octopoid Armor with High-Bore Laser. Soundwave clenches his fists tightly as Scourge turns his attention to Blueshift. He wasn't trying to order him--bah. But it should be amusing to see the other Decepticons destroy such a creature. Surely its organic materials can't possibly hold up to modern-day energy weapons and explosive rounds. Blot looks at Scourge kind of pissed off as he stops yelling and hopping about, "NO BLOT EAT?" he asks angrily, as an enormous Spaceport shaking rumble emerges from his ape belly. "BLOT SO HOOOOONGRY!" he whines clutching his belly. He stands up completely straight, his eyes roll back into his head and he falls down on his face. WHAM! Blot begins to take big mouthfulls out of the floor, "Mmm, taste like car." "Shockwave, do not forget who is in Lord Galvatron's /favor/," Scourge snarls, doing his best to Win Friends and Influence People. "If you chose these peons for your 'security' then you should trust them to deal with this... egregious insult to our intelligence." Pitchfork doesn't do much of anything, he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the wood paneling on his feet. "uh, yeah. wow, violence. organics vs robots. wow, really. we've come so far." Arachnae just.. blinks.. then looks at Dead end and says rather calmly, "If anyone asks, we were heading out to get some black sand." She then goes back to staring at the.. oddities.. "Wow... He really went there, didn't he? Thought his treatises were full of self grand applications of holier than thou.. Wow.." A shake of her head as all chaos breaks loose. She steps closer and starts to clap, wings arching neatly behind her, "Well done, Thunderwing! Never thought you'd actually put theory into practice.." Headtilt, "But did you have to make them so plug-ugly?" "You cannot -understand- the greatness that we have achieved here until you witness it firsthand!" Outburst booms, his self-restraint at an end. "Send your men against it, let them see. Our fusion of organic and machine is utmost perfection, crafted like an art. An unparalleled symbiosis bred for unparalleled destruction!" The Decepticon researcher jerks a hand towards the massive octopoid armor as it is assaulted by both him, /WARMONGER\ and Blueshift, eyes ablaze. "Thunderwing has crafted pure destructive fury. Now... see the potential power that could be yours to wield!" Shockwave watches helplessly as the trigger-happy warrior launch their attack on their fellow Decepticons. Shockwave simply takes a few steps back and observes as they commit a classic blunder of strategy. "Scourge you are throwing yourself against the unknown, the conclusion is most uncertain. Besides they have done nothing hostile so far that warrants such a response." Dead End nods in answer to Archnae's words without responding before following her across the ground toward the recently Octoputty Thunderwing as his weapon appears mysteriously in his hand. He comes to a halt as Archnae does again, his gaze aimed straight ahead, as he awaits with all the patience he can muster, and that's a lot, for an attack or from more orders from Nae. Redshift is still looking fairly disgusted by all that organic matter, and doesn't even know what 'DNA' is. But the thing certainly LOOKS tough. He hangs back, out of the ay of the ones who are attacking the ugly thing. This is not the time to show off, and not against an unknown facotr like a giant 'pretender'. "How fast and agile can those things be, Thunderwing? You can hear us, right? If they're as slow as the are ugly, they're useless." Scrapper slowly sidles up towards Shockwave as others begin attacking Thunderwing's insane octopoid creation. "This could be such a brilliant breakthrough in warfare!" the Constructicon says in a hushed tone to the one-eyed Decepticon Commander. He nods in agreement with Arachnae's compliment, but otherwise tries to not draw too much attention so far. Scourge seems to dislike the crazy monster armour, and Scrapper doesn't want to oppose him. Might be in for a fuel pump crushin' otherwise. "Do you not realize, Shockwave?!" Scourge's headcannon glows and begins to charge furiously, even going so far as to emit a loud hum. "I am built from nothingness by Unicron himself!" His voice grows more arrogant, more boastful, and more unhinged. "/I AM THE UNKNOWN!/" he screams, discharging a brilliant, near blindingly bright blue beam at the shell. Scourge strikes Octopoid Armor with Disintegrator Cannon. An academian gumby appears to point out that Scourge was not exactly created from nothingness but is caught in the blast and taking the truth with him. Snapdragon stomps forward, eager to test his might against Thunderwing's armor. With all the firepower flying he decides to circle around to flank the Decepticons. Along the way he unleashes a stream of generic energy bolts from his optics. Snapdragon strikes Octopoid Armor with laser-eyes. Soundwave doesn't take part in the beatdown, but instead practically growls at Scrapper, "They are abominations! Organic life is inferior, mechanical life is superior! And never should the two intermingle! This... observe them! They are repulsive! Unnatural!" Octopoid Armor lumbers forward, blasts from multiple Decepticons lancing into its fleshy exterior. The shell seems to react as if in pain, raising its tentacles in the air again. "AAAAAAAWOOOOOOOURGH!" It howls, stomping forward, whipping all eight limbs down against Warmonger in retaliation. "YOU FEAR WHAT YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND! IT WILL BE YOUR UNDOING!" Thunderwing's voice, bio-amplified, chastises from within. Octopoid Armor strikes Warmonger with crush. Dreadwind watches as some of the overly energised Decepticons decide to try and destroy the Pretender that Thunderwing inhabits, of course he doesn't shift an iota either to join them or stop them. Dreadwind actually understands a lot of the theory that goes into making these things and that they could also act as enhancement to natural strengths and/or weaknesses, but he's not going to tell them they wouldn't listen anyway. "Great so what happens when the shell is damaged beyond repair? Physical pain, temporary shutdown, permenant shutdown? It certainly looks like you feel its pain too, as if life wasn't depressing enough now you can hurt twice as much." A trans-organic creature enters the spaceport, "Rrrrr, what that smell?" Rippersnapper hisses, gnashing his teeth together so hard sparks flash out of them, "Rippersnapper smell...." It cannot be, the scent of inert matter, that of -flesh-, "RRRAARRGGH--What that?!" "FOR GALVATROOOOOO--*" Warmonger's patriotic warcry is abrubtly cut off by the eight-limbed monstrosity's tender grip. Encircled by tentacles, the powerful Decepticon Jet hardly has time to think 'I'm not a Japanese Schoolgirl!' before he is UTTERLY CRUSHED. "GGGK!" comes his final cry, as all of his armor plates buckle simultaneously under the powerful assault. When the Octopoid Armor is finished with him, the comically crushed Warmonger looks like little more than a stick figure as he CLANGs to the ground. Sparks fly fitfully from his horrendously damaged form, but this is one soldier who won't be going anywhere any time soon. Shockwave nods at Scrapper "Indeed it could. Too bad some of our troops are too quick on the trigger and seemingly did not think this thing through." If Shockwave had a mouth he would be smirking at Scourge's comment. "You fail to realize one of the universe's paradox about the chicken and the egg Scourge. While the chaos bringer did create you and give you power. Somewhere at some point, someone more powerful created Unicron himself. There are many things throughout the universe we have yet to see or fully understand. Still if you want to throw yourselves against them without knowing what you are up against. It is your decision." He turns back to Scrapper. "No matter how one feels about this...bonding thing. There is always something we can learn about such a technological advance." Arachnae shakes her head and moves towards a spot not occupied by the gun toting mafia. "Dead End, you were right. This is a scrap-job." "Are you going to /lecture/ me, Shockwave, or are you going to preserve the sanctity of the Decepticons by preventing this... foul miscegenation?!" Scourge says, yelling about this as if he were Archie Bunker and Thunderwing were a black guy moving into the neighborhood. Discord moves to join Arachnae where she stands, muttering about pathetic organic fleshbags. The Constructicon known as Hook absolutly must come and see what all of the commotion is about. Strange talk on the radio... and an even stranger sight for his optics. A gargantuan cephalopodic monster-man-machine rampaging about, fighting some Decepticons while others watch. Hook approaches Scrapper, but keesp his optics on the beast. "A fusion of biological and technological? Who is resposible for this?" Arachnae mutters to Dead End, "... think... warmonger*... bad..." Unknown? Hah! Your technical incompetence is unknown! Scrapper thinks to himself regarding Scourge's comment. Oh yeah, that would have been a snappy comeback, he thinks. That would have gotten him good. But Scrapper keeps this to himself and instead lets Scourge and the others gang up on the strange armour. Shaking his head at Soundave, he says, "Look, at least /pretend/ that this brawl is to test the armour, will you? Sure this organic thing is crazy, but lets see how it pans out at least." To Shockwave, he says, "Right, just think of the horrible monsters we could unleash on the Autobots with this power." Blueshift stops to stare at the crumpled form of Warmonger, wondering if he should reconsider his attack. But then again, an order is an order. He has no idea what this creature could do, but he KNOWS what Scourge would do to him for disobeying. "Foul fiend, you shall not defeat me so easily!" he cries, running towards the creature so that he can... punch it. Oh yes, not the best idea maybe... You strike Octopoid Armor with Punch. Soundwave is utterly alarmed as Warmonger gets crushed like an aluminum can, and rushes over to Scourge, shaking his shoulder. "Scourge!... I..." He lets go of the shoulder. "I request that you order the Decepticons to cease their attack! We are losing control of the situation. And we do not fully understand the situation!" Scrapper glances back at Hook. "Some bloke named Thunderwing, Hook. I'm not sure I quite understand it all, but some people aren't too fond of the idea." Pitchfork mutters to Blot, "... is a square... and if... be... and tridents... what..." Dead End follows Nae, remaining behind her, to continue his orders more then anything else. He turns to look at her as she begins to mutter to him before shrugging and responding in a matching undertone. Soundwave retorts at Scrapper, "Negative, we must stop this incident now!" Arachnae mutters to Dead End, "... passed... went to... car..." Dreadwind says, "See i knew this was going to end in pain and spilt energon." Dead End says, "...happen...disruption....both...pointless" Blot scratches his head as he pulls his face off the floor. Chunks of floor fall out of his jaws as he messily masticates them. He glares at Pitchfork for a while, "No." Blot says and points at the tiles that make up the floor, "That square!" He smiles and bobs his head with enthusiasm. He then frowns and shrugs helplessly, "Yes. uh... Blot know what you mean?" he asks and then smiles again with confidence. Pitchfork mutters to Dead End, "hey... what's up isn't... awesome" Scrapper nods back at Soundwave, "Sure, lets stop it and talk it over with Thunderwing. If YOU don't want to learn the secrets of this armour, Soundwave, then at least let my Constructicons look it over!" "BEHOLD!" Outburst roars as he jerks a single finger towards the crushed Warmonger. "Power once unattainable by the common soldier is now ours to wield with ease! The potential for this is staggering! The tide of the war could be turned to our favor with this power! But if you require FURTHER PROOF of our might... THEN BEHOLD OUR MIGHTY HAND! Outburst -- SHELL ON!" As Outburst's voice booms out the command, the reptilian armor behind him glows and splits open at the front, revealing the organic and mechanical within. Outburst falls into the shell, enveloped and encased within it, and as he does... a horrible roar SPLITS forth from the creature. The particle cannon on its back begins to glow... and a tremendous, splitting -beam- of power ruptures forth, to consume not just anyone, but -Scourge- within its depths. Reptilian Armor strikes Scourge with missile. It's no suprise that with all the raucus and talk of scientists, descoveries and the like, the resident sixchanger appeared to lay witness to the ongoings personally. That a fellow Decepticon was getting trashed in the process phased him little, and Sixshot was rather intrigued by the entire thing. Even if it did have some kind of organic base...thing. Now that, that looked like a fair challenge. Soundwave, as it turns out, removes his shoulder just in time to avoid Scourge attempting to snatch it. The leader of the Sweeps is getting seriously irrationally angry, and doesn't want to listen to reason. "You yourself spoke against these beasts, Soundwave! For one who claims to be so loyal to our leader, you seem /awfully/ disposed toward letting these witless buffoons /live/ despite this... this unparalleled affront to the Decepticons!" He's so busy yelling at Soundwave that he turns away from Outburst fully, and only whirls around just in time to see the massive beam coming toward him -- at the speed of, er, light, really. It punches a hole clear through Scourge's chest, causing the Sweep commander to cough up a mass of black oil and fall forward onto his hands and knees. Breakdown enters, looking around for his felow stunticon and still twitching from the last two battles. Arachnae's optics widen as she watches the second mechanism join with the.. things there. "Wow.. I've *got to get one of those toys..." "The armour definatly shows high levels of resistance to physical damage." Hook muses, watching the Octoppid and newly activated Reptiloid armors. His trained vision catches a quick glance at the inside of the suit, a merging of organs and control panels. "This requires further study! The technology should be submitted for our own observation and testing." Soundwave recoils in horror from the smoking form of Scourge! "What... Scourge, defeated with one shot?" His face would convey so much fear if it was capable of doing so! But at least it removes him as the highest ranking guy in the area! Ignoring Scrapper's suggestion to just let everyone be massacred, Soundwave shouts, "Decepticons, cease hostilities! You have made your point, Thunderwing! Relent! We will... present your suits to Lord Galvatron! for his review!" Walking on to the space port and seeing all this commotion, Drag Strip of course asks the obvious, "What the Slag of Unicrons aft is going on!?" This of course will most likely have negative reprocussions on the loud mouthed Decepticon. Seeing Scourge fall, causes Drag Strip to pull out his weapon. Such a display of power does not give the insane pause. "I... am... not... defeated..." Scourge wheezes, rising to his feet -- and then nearly falling back down again. Clearly, his damage from the encounter in Africa has yet to heal, in addition to the raw power of the Pretender's attack. "Gggkkh. I... am Scourge, the... Tracker..." Octopoid Armor coils one thick, slimey tentacle around Warmonger's throat, hoisting his crushed body into the air and leaving it dangling above him like some kind of macabre mistletoe. It twirls its golden trident in one of its hands, hoisting the weapon in the air and preparing to skewer Blueshift -- currently ineffectually punching it in the leg -- before it stops, the pointed tips of the trident a few meters away from blueshift. It turns its alien head to regard Soundwave as he calls off hostilities. "THANK YOU, SOUNDWAVE. I AM GLAD THAT REASON HAS /AT LAST/ PREVAILED." Dreadwind watches as Scourge gets blasted and then the second shell is activated by Outburst, "Great so now we're doing the Autobots' job for them. I suppose i'll be sent with the memo for them so they know that they don't need to fight us anymore." Scrapper hmms and nods with Hook. "I do have to say I'm impressed. At the very least they can absorb a lot of damage. There may be other flaws but it's certainly worth investigating." As Scourge falls, Scrapper is momentarily stunned. His feeling of curiousity over the armour has changed to slight fear. If they could do that to -Scourge-... drawing out his trusty laser screwdriver, Scrapper rushes forward. "Commander Scourge, hold still!" he says. "I'll get you up and running in a jiffy again." Scrapper constantly looks up at the Reptile and Octopus Armours. While he doesn't want to get directly involved against those things, rushing up to assist Scourge might put him in the line of fire. Hopefully Soundwave's plea for peace holds out. Scrapper jury-rigs Scourge, taking a few moments to patch up some damage. Snapdragon opens his jaws wide open, ready to charge forward and chomp down on Thunderwing's armor. Then Soundwave calls off the attack. Snapdragon hesitates for a moment, wondering if he should get in one last shot while Thunderwing's attention is elsewhere. Instead he closes his mouth and settles back, still bristling. Blueshift slowly stops trying to punch the armour as the order to cease filters through into his brain and he takes a few steps back. Then a few more, to be on the safe side, still gazing at the huge monstrosity with suspicion. "So uh, can anyone use them then?" When he means 'anyone' he does, of course, mean /himself/ Dead End looks even more dulled at Scourge's now painful and embarassing state of affairs...or would if he had a more expressive face. Dead End glances around the spaceport before spotting the blue and white image of Breakdown standing skittishly admit the throng before he gestures at him. Arachnae blinks.. "Wow.." A glance trailing over to watch Scrapper do a quick patch on Scourge, expression shifting dispassionat and nearly blank. "Dead End, why don't you go on with your fellow Stunticons. I think I"m just.. going to go do some work of my own instead of the xcursion." Hook cautiosly approaches the Octopoid Pretender shell, and takes out a medical scanner as he does so. While Scrapper sees to Scourge's injuries, Hook has little motive to repair the other dammaged Decepticons. He holds his scanner up so it can be clearly seen. "Might I perform a preliminary scan, Thunderwing? While you are still within the armor system?" Soundwave gestures towards Drag Strip to lower his weapon. "Perhaps we will... reconsider our positions on the matter, Thunderwing." His mind immediately begins to scheme, however--how best to kill these powerful Decepticons, now? Breakdown notices Drag Strip and his actions, and widens his optics, wondering why he would draw so much attention to himself.. and possibly the other stunticons present as well. Luckily he spots Dead End and makes his way over next to his stunticon brother. "What's been happening?" He asks, sounding rather nervous and just a touch tired. Shockwave looks at the fallen form of Scourge, not very surprised at the result. "Given the situation the probabilities of this conclusion were 84.76%." Shockwave steps forward towards Thunderwing. "A most impressive display as I was expecting. I am very curious as to how this whole process works." As Scrapper tends to him, Scourge is content -- for the moment, anyway -- to remain still, save for the occasional tremble of rage to accompany his furious expression. Dreadwind moans out to no one in particular, "So at what point do they gain their own intelligence and go on a mad unstoppable rampage of destruction? Or are they going to glitch entirely and corrupt the person using them turning them into a bestial savage only interested in tearing any not like it into very small pieces?" Dead End looks as if he is talking to someone invisible, or radioing someone, as Breakdown approaches before glancing at his more aggressive Stunticon brother before turning to look at Breakdown The Uneasy. Dead End shrugs in answer to Breakdown's questions as he gestures dismissively toward the scuffle. "Someone has been causing trouble here, as usual. The details aren't important: the mess is always the same. The cannon on its back still thrumming with life, the Reptilian Armor seems still prepared to continue its attack, saliva dripping from its massive jaws as glowing eyes focus on all those present. Yet, as Soundwave speaks, and Thunderwing ceases his hostilities, the cannon's hum begins to dull to a close, the massive, armored form of the Shell stepping back one step, and then another. "SO NOW YOU SEE," booms Outburst's voice from within the depths of the shell, amplified, "THE POWER THAT IS AT OUR -- AT THE DECEPTICON -EMPIRE'S- -- FINGERTIPS." He retreats back, the reptilian beast falling on all fours as Outburst goes silent once more. Scrapper continues to patch up Scourge's innards, though his constantly looking up to see what Outburst and Thunderwing are up to is distracting him somewhat. Scrapper imagines himself in one of those armours, beating the slag out of Autobots left right and centre. He likes that image. He then imagines his entire team of Constructicons decked out in those armours, flaying the Dinobots alive. He likes that image even more! Then Scrapper imagines the Devastator inside one of those, beating Omega Supreme until there was nothing left but scrap metal. He likes that image the best! Blot sees Thunderwing get out of the Octopunch and walks over to take a bite out of it. "MMMMMMMM! Blot love CAR!" Breakdown nods and sighs at hearing this. "Hopefully this won't involve us.." He takes his position against the wall, gun at his side. Drag Strip does as asked but still has a very defiant streak on his face. He then moves over towards his brothers. The Octopoid shell straightens up, holding its trident at its side before splitting open with a wet slurp, revealing Thunderwing caccooned within. "SHELL - OFF!" Thunderwing shouts, launching into the air and somersaulting to land in a kneel in front of the shell, which summarily seals closed behind him. "Anyone will be able to operate their own Pretender Shell once mass production has begun," he announces, then looking to Hook. "Of course, be my guest. I will need assistance in repairing the damage done to the shells during this... Erm... Demonstration. I want them operating at /peak/ efficiency when they are presented to Galvatron." Dead End nods slowly at Breakdown as he turns to look at Thunderwing as he resumes shouting, this time at Hook. As he sees a tall pillar of bright yellow moving toward him he also turns his head to give a nod toward Drag Strip. "Brother. How did you get mixed up in this morass?" With the boom of "SHELL - OFF!" from within the depths of the Reptilian armor, Outburst springs free from his confines, landing solidly on his feet. As Thunderwing explains, he nods in tandem, arms crossing over his broad chest. "These two shells shall be the proving ground for this technology's might. Whoever the great Lord Galvatron sees fit to wield them, shall." Emphasizing 'the Great Lord Galvatron' honorably, the Decepticon Researcher twists around to look towards the Shells. "But I do believe -our- point has been made, now." Scrapper raises his hand, temporarily stopping his work on the Sweep Commander. "I have a question, Thunderwing and/or Outburst," he says. Soundwave stares at Thunderwing for a moment, then joins Hook in the scannerizing. As he passes his medical scanner up and down the Octopus creature, he wonders why Shockwave doesn't just blast Thunderwing and his assistant with his alternate mode and be rid of them. Those two are dangerous!... well, to his rank and authority, mostly, but they are still dangerous! Blueshift folds his arms, scowling at Outburst, a bit more confident now that no-one is weilding any scary weapons of mass-destruction. "So, the real question is, when do we go kill the Autobots with them, that's the best test" he glowers Hook raises his medical scanner, and begins a throughough inspection of the Octopoid Armor unit. The biological components are of much less value to Hook, and they are difficult for his medical scanner, designed to detech damaged system on Transfomers, to image correctly. However, that makes the mechanical components all the more visible. "The microconnections between the circuitry and the organic components is very interesting. I personally could probaly create much finer connections, of course, but they are effective. How long will it take to construct more of these monsters?" He asks, while continueing to scan. He doesn't want to attempt any repairs, however, until he knows more about these so called 'Pretenders'. Shockwave approaches Thunderwing and paces around the armor observing it. "I am curious Thunderwing, when you mentionned about help in repairing these...shells. They seem to be organic which is pretty much evident at this point. My question is...do these things heal themselves? And if they do, I assume that you have a way, somehow via radiation or exposure to some substance are able to accelerate the natural healing process of these organic shells. Am I correct?" Frustrated that he didn't get to beat the crap out of someone, Drag Strip throws up his hands and says, "Frak you guys, I'm out. I am gonna go run over some humans. It's certainly more interesting then these losers..." He then turns and leaves the area. Snapdragon takes a few steps forward as well. He stops when he gets close, but he seems close enough that one more step and he could be standing in between Thunderwing and his armor. While the others turn their attention to the armor, Snapdragon peers at Thunderwing himself, then leans forward and sniffs at the air above him. Thunderwing pages Blueshift and Outburst: can the shells regenerate? "What the Sam Hill is that awful thing?" demands Blitzwing, pointing at Octopunch, before anyone can explain anything to him. Dreadwind slumps and stares as the more technically minded get to do their thing, sure he might understand how things should work but actually putting it all together is a bit beyond him. Besides it's such an effort making something that's going to be destroyed anyway so why bother? "Several are in the final stages of gestation and nanofabrication," Thunderwing responds to Hook. "I will remain in contact with our factories on Nebulos and monitor their progress. Another shipment should be ready very soon. In the meantime, I want to continue to optimize these models," he gestures to the Octopoid and Reptile, "And field test them against the Autobots in various terran environmental conditions." He then considers Shockwave. "Yes, Commander. It was one of their many advantages as organic constructs -- self-repair. They require only a specially formulated bionutrient fluid to sustain themselves as well as recover from most forms of damage. Only the bio-electrical connections require any kind of assistance in repairing, and only then in a case of extreme damage." Dead End turns to look levelly at Blitzwing as he arrives, which may be near to himself and Breakdown or it may not, before responding with his usual indifferent tones. "Something the High Command were not happy to see." "I'm not happy to see it either!" replies Blitzwing, prodding Octopunch with a sharpened stick which he apparently keeps on hand just for the purpose of poking octopi. "You should throw it back in the ocean!" Scourge continues to glower without further comment. Breakdown mumbles " I just know this is going to involve us" and sighs, shrugging his shoulders. Shockwave notes down everything Thunderwing mentions about the armors. "I see...And this bio-nutrient, is it hard to duplicate? Can it be done with a mixture of chemical engineering and common substances or does it require something specific or unique to the Nebulos environment?" "My vastly superior surgical skills will be available to repair thier bioelectrical connections if required." Hook replies, as he saves the data scanned from the armor thus far. He approaches the Reptilian armor as well, and proceeds to take in additional data with his scanner. "how quickly can they be regenerated? When can this partially-damaged unit be used again?" Soundwave glances up at Thunderwing, glaring at him before he moves to the next Pretender shell, giving it a good scan as well. His readings aren't much more clear than Hook's. "I do not understand," Soundwave says. "Organic flesh is soft." He pokes at the skin of the reptile shell. "Weak. Easily destroyed. Degrades quickly. It is impossible for it to be so resilient!" Dead End glances over at Breakdown before turning around to look at Blitzwing again. He may not be capable of displaying surprise but his tone carries it. "Why should I carry anything? I didn't cause it to be here and it is of no interest to me at all why it is here." "Well, more you plural, not you specifically Dead End but 'somebody should,'" explains Blitzwing, flicking one of Octopunch's tentacles with his finger. Scrapper doesn't get to answer his question, but that's alright. He'll surely end up finding out the answer on his own terms eventually. The Constructicon lowers his hand and stands up. "There you are, Scourge. Almost as good as new," he says, running a medical scanner over the Sweep Commander. Dead End shrugs in answer to Blitzwing before turning to look back at Breakdown. "There, you see? Nothing to do with us after all." Breakdown raises a brow and shudders a bit. "Yeah..sure.. not yet anyway. Primus I hope the autobot's don't get some of these.." Scourge lets out a quiet grumble before stepping out of Scrapper's reach, still keeping his optics -- burning red with barely concealed contempt -- on the situation. Like anyone would expect the tracker to thank anyone for fixing him, anyway. "No, it is not difficult at all to reproduce," Thunderwing replies, cooly. "Basic carbohydrates, proteins and enzymes. I have the formula with me and I will assist in assembling a fabricator for such a purpose shortly. Regeneration varies on the extent of the damage sustained, but these shells should be operatable within a cycle." With that, Thunderwing turns to regard Soundwave. "And that is your failing. Organics are as flexible -- MORE flexible -- than we are. One can manipulate genetic code to produce almost anything -- the only limitation is one's skill and their imagination." He glowers at Soundwave for a moment, before turning sharply to glare at Blitzwing. "And would someone instruct your... conscript... To discontinue his proddings?" Dreadwind slides down the wall slumping dejectedly to the floor and ponders how, in such an overcrowded space that he can be so alone and that not one person here could be called a friend, let alone a comrade. Scrapper doesn't seem insulted by Scourge's reaction. Indeed, he expected it. Optics on Thunderwing, he nods, "We Decepticons have never been terribly good at biology. Normally that's the work of losers like Perceptor and DepthCharge." Scrapper has no idea if DepthCharge has anything to do with organics other than his official function of oceanographer, but it sounds like the sort of dorky thing that the aqua-bot would be into. "A question if you will, Thunderwing?" he asks. Dead End shrugs in answer to Breakdown as he pays no attention to Dreadwind's inner torment. "If our leaders reacted to them like they did would the Autobots permit them? No, of course not." Snapdragon shrugs. "I'm still not convinved that these things are so formidable. Yes, they crushed that fool Warmonger with a single blow, but any number of us could have done the same." He reaches out to touch the armor himself as the others go on. "One final question, Thunderwing." The Constructicon Hook turns to face the virtually-unknown decepticon. "How throughly have these actually been tested? Are there any long-term affects or risks ofcontamination from this mechanical-fused organic matter?" Yes, ok, three questions. Shockwave remains silent content on awaiting the awnser to Scrapper and Hook's questions. Actually he was about to ask them himself but he will simply wait and note the awnser. Scrapper hasn't asked his question yet. The question about whether he can get some attention to ask a question is not his question. Soundwave grumbles under his breath as he conducts a few more scans on the reptile. He'll be the end of those two, he swears it! Meanwhile, Glitter wobbles back from the ocean, dripping wet, and with her wings bent in awkward directions. "Uhhh... what happened..." After a visible twitch of the brow, Breakdown then leans against the wall petting his gun. "You Never know..they could get desperate..an make them to look like..anything!" He quickly turns side to side, scanning the surrounding area. "Yeah..anything.." He calms down a bit, going back to petting his gun. Thunderwing looks at Scrapper. "Yes?" He then considers Hook, who has already dropped his Q-bombs. "I have subjugated the native populous of Nebulos with the aid of Outburst and our Pretender Shells. Admittedly, the Nebulans are pacifists and far less numerous than the humans, but it was the first step in the testing schedule. The next will be to take them into battle against the Autobots." He snorts a little. "There is no risk of any sort of... contamination, I assure you." Scrapper stands up straight and says in a completely neutral tone, "When you put the armours on and off... do you have to shout 'shell on' and 'shell off' at the top of your vocalizer? I don't mean to be rude, but honestly..." This coming from the guy who likes to go through the whole speech whenever they form Devastator. Thunderwing bristles at that. "As a matter of fact, YES, I do. The shell's security systems use voiceprint analysis." He scowls. "Any... other ... questions, 'Scrapper'?"
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