Crew's Cabin Section A, Warworld
"Sh'yeah, as if we would-" Shrapnel began, but Bombshell clamped his hand shut over Shrapnel's mouth.
"A very tempting deal, Lord Thunderwing." Bombshell said, optics friendly. "Please do ignore Shrapnel, he's a bit groggy after unleashing all that electricity. Of course we will accept the deal. After all, we're Insecticons, not Decepticon fanatics... we know how to work with the greater power."
Shrapnel wrenched Bombshell's hand off, but glared at Thunderwing and said nothing. Despite the questions around Bombshell's wishy-washy allegiance, Shrapnel knew what Bombshell was playing at... let Thunderwing believe they are working for him, so that they could formulate a plan when Thunderwing is not going all Matrix-crazy on them.
It was stupid to run his mouth off like that, Shrapnel considered. And since when did he turn into a loyal Decepticon?
He glanced at Kickback, Blackjack and Retcon, silently asking them for their opinion.
Blackjack nodded, face etched into a poker face as he regarded his creator. "Survival's fair enough, Thunderwing. Plus... I've always liked a good gamble." He said. Oh, playing the stakes this high... it was fun. "But can you do something for Tailwind over here? He's not going to make it, and I think one additional soldier would do your cause well, won't it, creator?"
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Hangar Bay, Warworld
Snare snorted as he loaded a clip of missiles into his launcher. "Listen to him, Snappy."
The Predator anxiously aimed his weapon at the direction Bludgeon and Black Shadow had just indicated, knowing that Thunderwing won't take too kindly to that open act of betrayal...
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Slog sighed at Birdbrain, "Better it is, for Wildfly to be killed by Thunderwing, than to clog up your subspace pocket. A waste of a perfectly good subspace pocket, it would be. Admittedly, without Wildfly, be more peaceful, the world would seem."
Slog turned to Treadshot, and nodded. "Can." Slog raised his arms and pointed it at the late Gutcruncher's Stratatonic Jet, and levitated it, seemingly without much effort, and moved it into a righted position in the middle of the room.
Then he waved his stubby arms around, and the assault shuttles that Turbo Master had pointed out began to scrape against the floor, some levitating, as they arranged into position as crude barricades.
Barrage leapt onto the Stratatonic Jet, activating the weapons systems, optics narrowed. "I am ready." He declared.
Snare, meanwhile, zipped off, happy to find some cover, and hid behind one of the assault vehicles. The remaining Predators did likewise.
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"Perhaps you are speaking the truth." Bludgeon hissed. "Be aware that if you try to escape, I shall hunt you down myself, and no amount of parlor tricks can save a Spark claimed by my blade."
Black Shadow would feel the cold, chilling wind around him disappear.
Bludgeon, somehow, stepped out of the shadows on the opposite side of the room, blank optic holes unreadable, his expression forever blank, as his skull-head surveyed the room. "Crude." He hissed, "but efficient."
Bludgeon twirled the energy saber on his hand and caught it again, readying himself for Thunderwing.
"No one is to engage Thunderwing in melee other than Double Punch and myself." Bludgeon whispered, "None of you have the skill to take on a being powered by the Matrix."
"Eh, believe me... I don't think any of us is enthusiastic to fight Thunderwing, let alone in a melee." Snare quipped before he could stop himself.
Bludgeon's head snapped around, hollow eyeholes boring onto Snare, his jaw opening slightly, and Snare shrank under the makeshift barricade immediately. Bludgeon turned to regard the rest of the Decepticons. "Also, allow me to introduce the last of Scorponok's acts in this plane..."
Bludgeon waved the hand not holding the sword, and one of the hangar bays of the Fearless opened, revealing the clones that Straxus had created earlier... (OOC: correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't remember these guys being deployed... right?)
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Space
"Oh. Ah... didn't cross my mind, buddy." Cosmos told Blast Master. "Don't get to work with Micromasters often, see, and I'm always on the short size, so, uh... yeah, didn't get to work with anyone often, come to think of it."
Cosmos sighed. That was lame. Powerglide or Warpath would have known how to handle an introduction.
"Yes, we should." Cosmos replied to Phaser, grateful to have someone break the uncomfortable conversation he was having. "Um, which angle... which hangar do you want to take?"
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Corridors, Warworld
Stranglehold frowned when Fangry spoke, scratching his chin. "Mebbe tha's because we're still on board if the Warworld blows up?" A little proud of being able to spout out a theory for Bludgeon's sometimes-incomprehensible orders, Stranglehold puffed out his chest.
Octopunch attacked Fangry, and Stranglehold immediately pulled out his ball and chain in a ready position, in case his friend needed backup against the unruly Headmaster, but as usual Octopunch proved to be as deadly as befitting a member of the Mayhem Attack Squad.
Stranglehold turned to regard the fourth Decepticon with them, which was proving very quiet. "Well? We go now?" Stranglehold asked Black Battle Convoy. The evil Optimus Prime lookalike somehow radiated an aura of command, just like Optimus Prime himself, that Stranglehold somehow felt complied to ask him, even though he probably would listen to Octopunch anyway.
Last edited by Blackjack; 2012-02-26 at 11:17 AM.
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