The Second Coming

Earlier today the Decepticons picked up an anomaly on their tracking systems. It was too large and too slow to be a shuttle, but its trajectory and chemical composition suggested that it was not a natural phenomenon such as a meteor or asteroid. It had actually been picked up months ago, but it was so far away from any inhabited world that it did not warrant reporting. And so it hurtles towards the Earth, propelled by some means that are as of yet unknown. What could it be and who will be the first to investigate. Surely the Autobots and the Humans know of its impending arrival as well.

Cyclonus is first on scene, patrolling the area where the object was last spotted. He's currently bereft of occupants, as he is loath to have anyone share Galvatron's seat in the cockpit. Everyone else can walk as far as he's concerned. "Decepticons... continue our scans for the unidentified object. This would not be a good hour for Galvatron's plans to be ruined by some unforeseen factor."

Somewhere on Snaptrap's person, is a yellow and purple rectangle maglocked onto him. And is that snoring coming from the rectangle?

As the starfighter, shuttle, and any other interstellar device that might be watching take in the unidentified mass, their sensors will note that it is a very peculiar object. It’s clearly artificial, with a blue plume emanating from the rear, some kind of propulsion system. There seems to be a number of reflective panels angled towards the sun. And it looks vaguely Cybertronian. Though, it’s no design. This looks like it might have been a large chunk of Cybertron. Probably a couple of levels worth, though it’s certainly worse for wear, having suffered extensive damage over the years.

Cyclonus approaches the mass, muttering, "Odd," to himself as he rapidly closes in. "It appears to be a Cybertronian--no, not a craft at all. Simply part of Cybertron. But if it is no craft, then why is it apparently under its own propulsion?" He draws even closer for a better look.

Snaptrap rumbles through a large gateway into the shuttle bay, having come down to this level straight away from the command floor after screening a dozen reports describing an unidentified mass hurtling through open space near the station. Directing a small contingent of personnel as he gets about, the Seacon trundles to a shuttle close by, waving packs of non-descript Decepticons after the craft with direction to prepare it for takeoff.

Windshear is sitting in the pilots chair prepping the shuttle for takeoff. He has no idea what they are after, he’s just the pilot.

As Snaptrap nears the aircraft, a door way hisses open along its length and an access ramp belches out within. The Seacons strides quickly up the incline and into the belly of the shuttle, ducking his head as he forces his way into the cockpit. "Get the engines hot and make for take off as quickly as possible!"

There's still a very faint snoring sound coming from somewhere on Snaptrap!

Cybertron One, for lack of a better term, continues to travel through space under its own power. The underside seems to have some kind of intake valves; through they are closed for the moment. There is no discernable bridge, no buildings, but there are three hatches, one of which looks like it was originally an elevator door. There is no debris on the exterior, since its mass isn’t large enough to produce much of a gravitational field. And. . . there seems to be cabling strewn about the surface, tied to the ‘hull’ if you can call it that.

Cyclonus wonders if the strange... object would have any communication systems, or if there would even be anyone monitoring them. He decides not to bother hailing, and tries the more direct route, closing the distance with the object, transforming, and landing near a hatch. He reaches for the handle, and pulls with all his might until it either gives way or it is apparent that it's closed fast. <> Cyclonus transmits.

Windshear looks at Snaptrap blandly, "What does it look like Im doing?" he flips one last lever and the engines thrum to life, then looking back out of the view screen, the Seeker lifts off. "Fasten your seatbelts." he says after the ship has launched off the landing pad.

After Cyclonus has landed, and as he approaches the hatch, a barely visible light begins to flash on the right of the door. It’s partially hidden behind a bent and torn piece of metal. First it flashes red, and then green. The hatch opens easily, revealing what was once an office, Decepticon Intelligence by the markings on the wall and the general layout of it, but it seems that it has been gutted, with everything of value stripped from it.

Cyclonus draws his oxidizing laser, and his face betrays no fear as he lowers himself inside slowly. <>

Snaptrap growls loudly at Windshear's complete lack of respect, optics glowing furiously after the aerial. He lifts one of his giant hands and reaches out to crush the Seeker's skull with it. Before he can realize his particular brand of punishment, the shuttle thunders upward with a start and the Seacon topples backward. Perhaps this has dislodged a certain saurian? Grabbing a bulkhead as he passes towards the rear of the craft, Snaptrap crushes the metal pylon as he forces himself back into the command pod. "You heard the commander! Pull alongside the object!"

The little yellow and purple rectangle twitches momentarily, a snorting noise coming from it, and then steady snores.

Windshear resists the urge to laugh when he hears Snaptrap tumble around. "As you command, sir." He says smoothly as he carefully manoeuvres the shuttle alongside the object that seems to be everyone’s interest right now.

Cyclonus, once inside, notices he's at something of a dead end here. Nothing here but another stripped room, and a hatch leading to another room. Glowering, Cyclonus simply blasts off the hinges with his laser and lets it fall. "Reveal yourself, if you are here! Cyclonus, Galvatron's right-hand, so orders it!" he calls out into the next area. But he is not even waiting for a response before he enters the next room, and his face takes on a look of disgust as he sees four dead Decepticons within, stripped down to their skeletal internal structures. <> Cyclonus transmits.

Snaptrap watches as the structure grows in size in the main view window of the craft. As the craft nears the thing, Snaptrap stalks towards the nearest exit, unholstering his rifle and running an internal systems check before he exposes himself to the harsh environs of outer space. As he waits for the status cycle to finish, he detects a light disturbance in the otherwise quiet confines of the craft's main bay. What is that noise?, the Seacon wonders... He looks over his shoulder, and then fully turns around, unaware of the creature magnetically attached to his shell - conveniently where he is unable to see. Shaking his head grumbling under his breath, Snaptrap slams his fist into a panel on the side of the craft and leaps from the hatch. A moment later, he impacts the structure like a fuchsia and turquoise meteor. Shortly after the impact, Snaptrap stalks towards Cyclonus' position, putting a finger to his temple to initiate communications. <<I am on the structure, Comm- ...", he pauses to reflect his new information. "Whatever is here... they have been here for quite some time, then."

There's almost a strange light, low whistling sound coming out of the yellow-and-purple rectangle now.

Although the first hatch led to an empty office, and the second to a tomb, the third will open to reveal a corridor, granting access to the main body of the object, and access to its lower levels. The markings on the walls clearly identify it as part of the Decepticon Intelligence Division’s headquarters on Cybertron. There are a number of rooms inside, offices, a lift, and monitor room. At least that’s what it used to be. It appears that someone has spent a great deal of time here, trying to convert it into some kind of sensor array, though without much success.

Cyclonus acknowledges Snaptrap with a glance, and nothing more. "Ah, Snaptrap. Good of you to join us so far out of your intended environs. Yes... something or someone appears to have been living a harsh life here for some time. I must wonder if these four were already dead before our mysterious person of interest decided to... "harvest" them." He opens the next hatch, and searches about disapprovingly. "What a mess," he snorts as he steps over the various bits of improvised equipment. Spotting the monitor room, he attempts to poke at it for a moment, trying to determine if it's even functional at this point. "Seems to be a crude sensor array here," he says. "Security cameras often include infrared sensors, among other things, so if I'm guessing correctly he set up a network of them about the ship to try and detect and avoid objects in his path. If, indeed, "he" still lives..."

Snaptrap bows his head slightly as Cyclonus turns and acknowledges him. "Commander...", he trails off, looking now to the environment about him. He cautiously walks into the room, surveying the gruesome sight. He pokes at the corpses with the end of his rifle, grumbling at the pile of deactivated husks. "Not pretty." He grunts and turns, following the Decepticon 2nd into the monitor room, putting his back to Cyclonus and covering the rear in case there are any 'surprises'. "Perhaps there is a hailing message, put on a loop or something of the sort? Perhaps 'he' was looking for something just as much as someone?"

At the end of the corridor on the first level, there is a lift. It has long since been deactivated, hollowed out even. It’s just a shaft, leading to a second and a third level. There doesn’t seem to be any light inside.

Cyclonus shakes his head, looking disgusted. "Pfah, no, nothing here but jury-rigged garbage. I doubt a coherent message could be sent with... this," he says, then steps out of the room. He travels down the corridor to the lift, and peers up. "Hm. Dark as deep space." He uses his anti-gravs to raise himself up to the third floor. "Take the second floor, Snaptrap, we'll cover ground more quickly that way. Slugfest, try not to die." Once at the top, he presses onward, rifle in hand.

Windshear leans back in his chair, crosses his feet on the edge of the control panel and lights an enercig. After a pull he checks the sensor readings and leans forward to make a minor adjustment to the shuttle holding and then resumes... his post as it were.

Snaptrap points Slugfest after the pile of corpses in the room. "I wouldn't be so sure of that... Now, stay on your guard." Snaptrap turns and leaps down the shaft without the aid of his anti-gravity repulsors. He connects with the far wall of the shaft and then leaps off of that and into the foyer of the second floor, colliding with the surface of the level with a crash, both his atom-smasher and incendiary sword at the ready.

Cyclonus sweeps a flashlight across the room, observing the engines of the ship... such as they are. Cyclonus stares at the ramshackle contraptions like he expects them to explode at any moment. Noting that several gas canisters appear to be empty, he momentarily wonders where the "craft" got its fuel from. Yes, it had gas collectors, but the tanks were clearly dry. Then he remembers the panels dotted about the "craft's" surface. "Ah, I see... solar power. He must have redirected the energy from them into crude ion engines. Not very powerful, but clearly it was all he had..." He continues to search about the third floor, peering around and behind machinery, but being careful not to disturb it too much. No telling what catastrophes may occur.

Playing in the background aboard the shuttle, a female voice says, “You’re listening to the Decepticon Aerospace Broadcast, the voice of the Seekers. This next one goes out to the Tetrajets of Earth, keep your heads down and your Disruptors up.” A song begins to play.

The little stegotape wanders into the engine room. It's pitch black, so he lets some light emanate from his chainsaw backplates so he can see something. "Hello? Anybody here?" he wonders aloud. "Heard noises."

Windshear snorts and then wrinkles his nose. "This song sucks..."

Cyclonus does notices something encouraging, however, as he chances upon it while sweeping his flashlight back and forth. "An inscription?" he muses, stepping closer to something scratched into the wall. "All... Hail... Galvatron," he reads aloud. "Well. Perhaps there is yet hope for the sanity of our mysterious pilot." He eventually makes his way past the engine, and finds himself in what might be the command centre. There is a throne, monitor, and recharging chamber hooked up to the ship's power sources--and on the throne is a green, grey, and black Decepticon he is not familiar with. He shines the light into the face of this mysterious Decepticon, and says, "Soldier! Can you hear me? This is Commander Cyclonus, right hand of Galvatron. Report!" He glances behind himself, and tells Slugfest, "Get some energon for this one, Slugfest, and be quick."

"Okay!" the little stegosaur pipes up, and reaches into his subspace pocket for some energon goodies he's got stashed there. He gives them to Cyclonus to feed to the soldier.

The figure is a Decepticon, as evidence by the crest emblazoned upon his chest, but he does not move. With the gas canisters empty, and the engines running purely on solar power, he probably rationed his own energon, conserving all but was absolutely necessary to propel the rock towards its destination. Those red optics still seem to glow, ever so softly, lighting up the otherwise grey face and bounce upon the helmet that surrounds it.

Cyclonus frowns, takes the goodies from Slugfest, and firmly clasps the Decepticon's chin with one hand, and tilting the rest of his head back with the back of his other hand, forcing the Decepticon's mouth open. Then, he stuffs some energon goodies inside and forces them down with his thumb. His concern now is getting the Decepticon operational again, and he could care less if he finds this uncomfortable.

Snaptrap thuds onto the third level, having swept through the entire breadth of the second without anything interesting having transpired. As he nears Cyclonus, he notices the raised dias and make-shfit throne. He cocks his head to the side with a grunt, looking over the scene with a quizical stare. "Someone thinks highly of himself," he rumbles, now turning to Cyclonus. "The second level was likewise deserted. However, and strangely - it was clean. Very organized and efficient. There was a workshop, of sorts, but with tools the likes of which I've never seen...," the Seacon trails off, returning to the inert Decepticon seated before him. "I wonder how he got to this point," he muses, then noting the lack of an arm and various holes across the frame where functional equipment should be resting. "If anything, he is a committed one... I can carry him back to the shuttle, if required."

Slugfest toddles up to the dormant Decepticon and touches his foot with a little stubby front foot. "No is awake yet?"

Cyclonus awaits the results of his first aid. "The throne is a tad much, yes but he is still loyal to Galvatron... or at least, that seems to be the case. And hold, Snaptrap, let us see if this soldier can carry himself, first." He peers down at Slugfest. "Perhaps not yet. Fear not, one way or the other, we will salvage him."

As the energon hits his system, no matter how undignified its delivery may be – it begins to take effect. At first, he coughs, his system struggling to absorb it. Like someone dying of thirst, it is best to administer several small amounts, rather than all at once. He coughs up some of the energon, and what seems like a very crude version of energon, a greenish pink to it, polluted by some means. Slowly, he comes to. Looking up from his seated position, his singular hand grips at the armrest of his throne, though his words as if it’s been some time since he spoke, are cryptic, “. . . Unicron. . . dead. . .”

Cyclonus tries to feed him another treat. Personally he'd rather choke than eat the things--so undignified--but they are what he has on-hand. "Yes he is, and we are all better for it. Tell me, soldier, what happened to you? How did you come to be... here?"

The Decepticon takes the second treat better than the first. Undignified as it is, he would eat anything that would provide him with energon at this point. He attempts to stand, though his gyros are among the systems he’s had to cannibalise, so it is an awkward movement. Once he is on his feet, his optics settle on each of them for a moment. “You keep interesting company, Lord Cyclonus.” Then, in a burst of anger brought on by so many years of his personal inferno, “Unicron threw me off the fragging planet.”

Slugfest ohs and jumps backwards as the Decepticon gets up. "Where him throw off of?"

Snaptrap watches intently as the Decepticon comes online, narrowing his optics and folding his thick arms across his barrel of a chest, and now listens. He gives a gruff rebuttal comprised of nothing but a grumble. He does not move to help support the Decepticon, being instead rather curious to see whether or not the machine can stand on his own. He rumbles, flatly. "Your name." It is more of an order than a request.

Cyclonus eyes the new Decepticon. "Hm. Truly? I suppose there were indeed parts of Cybertron that were... unaccounted for, and many Decepticons lost that terrible day were simply assumed to have been killed, for who could possibly survive an assault from such a mighty foe?" He glances back at Snaptrap as he demands the Decepticon's name, and simply awaits the answer.

The Decepticon’s deep, gravelly voice answers both, though by the sound of it, is might have been a mantra, something he had said aloud to himself a thousand times, “I am Marauder. Cybertronian by birth, Decepticon by choice; I will endure.”

Cyclonus nods, and though he is impressed by the Decepticon's will to survive, there is one little matter he has to check up on. "And so you have endured. Yet, several of your... 'crewmates' did not. Were they already slain when you decided to cannibalize them for parts, or did you... help them along?"

Slugfest cocks his head at Cyclonus, wondering why he's asking such things.

Marauder says, “As you said, they could not possibly survive an assault from such a mighty foe.” That didn’t actually answer the question, but it was said convincingly and suggested that they did not require assistance on their way to oblivion. “And,” he gestures to his missing arm, “as you can see, parts were somewhat limited.”

Snaptrap rumbles a kind of approval at the response, nodding to the Decepticon. "As we do." He glances down to Cyclonus, but does not rest there long. He is not concerned with the semantics of Marauder's survival. If those other individuals were alive or not is no real concern of his; survival of the fittest, after all. And clearly, Marauder is strong. Rather, Snaptrap turns away and taps his finger to his temple, opening a communication channel with Windshear, who by now is probably asleep. "Ready the shuttle. And prepare the onboard life support gantry - it's going to be needed."

Cyclonus raises a brow. "Hm." He glances over at Snaptrap, then back at Marauder. "Very well, then. Congratulations are in order, then. You have lived to serve Galvatron yet again, my friend. You should be proud. Follow us back to the shuttle, if you would be so kind..." He turns and walks away from Marauder, but doesn't try to help him stand. Apparently such a courtesy is beneath him.

The little stegosaur goes up closer to Marauder, watching to see if he has trouble moving or getting up.

The dead coloured Tetrajet really looked dead right now. His optics were off and since that was the only way to tell he wasn’t dead, now he looked dead. Windshear was sound asleep in the pilot’s chair. His feet were still crossed across the nav panel, the Seekers station was still playing in the background and he was off in recharge land. But when his internal comm was pinged he jumped up with a start. His optics flared red and after a nanosecond he realized what was going on. <<"The shuttle has been ready, sir -- buuut not the life support --">> he pulls him legs off the console and quickly starts prepping the life support gantry, <<"Prepping it now, sir.">> he says a bit more briskly.

Marauder listens to Snaptrap and Cyclonus, “I am no medic, but if you require assistance Snaptrap, I will do what I can.” Then, to Cyclonus in particular, he adds, “I never ceased.” He seems like he is insulted by the insinuation that he did. Then to the group, he explains, “I have held this,” he gestures at the floor beneath them, “such as it, in Galvatron’s name, for twenty-seven years, two months, twenty-six days, fifteen hours, and thirty-three minutes. You are alive, aren’t you.” That last part is cryptic, but there are a number of traps, keyed to react to Autobots, scattered about.

Slugfest runs down to the shuttle, then enters, runs in, and jumps onto one of the seats of the shuttle and puts his little front feets on the console in front of him.

Cyclonus pauses, and for the first time he realizes that there was something off about this place. It was a niggling feeling at first, but that little statement cinched it. As a saboteur himself, he ought to have known... "...ah, I see. You are right, we do yet live. A wise... precaution..." He lifts his foot up and adjusts it to a different floor panel. "...in case the Autobots found you first."

Snaptrap chuckles casually at Marauder, shaking his head and dismissing the newly revived Decepticon with a grunt. "Perhaps you shouldn't have lent your central processing cluster to this station. The medical assistance is not for me. It is for you. Are you not even aware of the state that you are in?" He then turns to begin the trek back to the shuttle, but after a moment thinks of better of it, returning to Marauder. "So you defended this", he waves his arm across the room, "as best you could. Is there anything of value here that would be worth the effort? Or is this so much Cybertronian scrap?"

Marauder observes the little stegosaur wander off, and listens to the two other Decepticons who remain for the moment, “Yes,” though is that in response to Cyclonus or Snaptrap. It’s hard to tell. Most likely it is in answer to both Decepticons. He adds after a pause, “There is.” When he gets a confused look, he explains with one simple word, “Me. Now, I believe you mentioned a shuttle?”

Cyclonus nods, and without further ado walks back to the shuttle.

Following Cyclonus, Marauder asks, “Prior to my ordeal, I was assigned to Decepticon Intelligence. To whom should I report?” Clearly, he expects that there has been a number of changes, and in his line of work, that means assassination.

Cyclonus turns back to Marauder for a moment. "For the time being, Ravage. He is currently the most skilled intelligence operative, though his... nature makes giving commands somewhat difficult."

Marauder pauses, stopping in his tracks. "Ravage" he repeats, somewhat in shock by this development. "The war does not go well. The Autobots have experienced a resurgence, and now have a foothold on Cybertron, do they not?" And all that based solely on the fact that Ravage is currently the most senior Decepticon Intelligence officer.

Cyclonus grimaces. He might have a point. "...all too true. And naturally our greatest lapses occur when Galvatron is, however momentarily, lost to us. We had a strong grasp of much of Cybertron before Galvatron was whisked away across the galaxy and the Autobots took advantage, rebuilding Iacon. Still, we have Crystal City--well, after it was rebuilt--and we have the weapon hidden below it. That, however, can all wait until you are repaired."

Snaptrap reaches the topmost level of the structure and does not waste any time returning to the shuttle. He strides briskly into the bay of the shuttle craft, pointing at Slugfest and then to the rear of the craft. "See to it that Marauder finds his way here. And assist him with plugging into the life support systems, if he needs it." He swoops into the bridge, ready to be off of this place.

Marauder follows after Snaptrap. He does not look back, does not take mementos, it was his life for almost three decades, and he does not give it a second thought. Though he does ask, "Shall I dispose of this?" He had the ability to blow it up, all this time, and yet he did not. Being isolated for so long, many Cybertronians would have taken the easy way out. But he is Marauder. Cybertronian by birth, Decepticon by choice; he will endure.

Cyclonus mutters, as he strides back inside the shuttle, "Permission granted."

Once the others return to the shuttle, Slugfest peers at them from the chair, his little feets up on the top of the chairback as he peers over it.

Slugfest aws and hops out of his chair, wandering to the back of the shuttle.

Swivelling around from the seat he had taken, typing his message with his one and only hand, Marauder turns to address the others, “Now, is this shuttle equipped with a medical drone?”

A moment later, the hatches and access ramps conform cleanly to the overall shape of the shuttle fuselage, revealing no trace that they had ever existed. With the pressure hull now intact, the shuttle whines and escapes the wrecked structure. Bobbing his head under the overhead, Snaptrap turns to address Marauder. "There is a life support gantry near the rear of the craft. It should interface with your systems seamlessly. I've dispatched Slugfest to assist you, should you need it."

Marauder does not seem convinced, “Life support is for the dying. What I require is someone to repair or replace some minor components.” Evidentially, he considers an appendage a minor component. “But, I could use the energon. Very well,” he rises, and heads towards the back, to see if he can plug himself into the life support systems.

Snaptrap sighs, glaring at Marauder with a low growl. "I'm aware of the difference. And so is the machine. It will see to it that you are patched up and refueled. Unless you'd rather remain in this state indefinitely."

Marauder turns in the middle of his way towards the back, “We appear to have a long flight. If you’d care to join me, there is much I have missed. I would appreciate being brought up to speed, even if only in summation for now.”