[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Instruments of Destruction

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Dreadwing spent most of his free time in a sort of meditative state inside his assorted quarters among the depths of Blackridge Hold, he stood quietly facing a wall with his head tucked behind his overbearing shoulder plates with his optics closed. With the limited resources the Decepticons used to construct this place the quarters were quite small for an enormous Decepticon Seeker. He kept mostly to his own thoughts brushing away any casting thoughts of doubt in himself and what he believed in, the only sound being the creaking within the walls of rock from the mountains they were buried under until the blaring noise into his own personal channel, a call…

“Megatron?!”

He opens his optics in shock, amazement, bewilderment without a second to spare Dreadwing marched out into the hallways with a determined stride. His hulking footsteps let any Vehicon that happened to pass by or be passed by him know of his coming , presence, carelessly brushing past any in the crowd that gathered towards the Assembly Hall. The tightly squeezed wave of Decepticons that rallied towards it proved to be a nuisance; not even he could simply barge past them all to the front residing to take his spot near the back watching on to the stage. He stood up proudly almost at attention in awaiting the announcement, until…there, Lord Megatron, his leader had returned, his optics widen in disbelief all he was told about abandonment and deceit that was fed to him upon his return, never believing them for a second and now his commitment beared fruit.

He listened with pride to his one true master; his talk of conquest, victory, sacrifice and the destruction of their bitter rivals in one fell swoop were all promised. Now everything he had done since his arrival had meaning, his departure into deep space to retrieve a part of the Hym, the assault conducted at Haven by his own explosives, his loyalty staying true to the one true leader of the Decepticons, Lord Megatron. As Lord Megatron finished his speech Dreadwing raised his fist to cross his chest and bowed his head in appraisal and to honour Megatron’s return and as his optics returned his gaze to the stage he had almost forgotten that Starscream was among those alongside him. He did not know if Starscream could see him amongst the crowd but a long grin stretched across Dreadwing’s face knowing he had once again returned to his rightful place in Megatron’s shadow.

[Deleted]

While Sparkplug stood out amongst their peers, her compatriot blended into the crowd with great ease.

Vee stood close, off to the smaller's right, watching the front of the room intently. Air commander Starscream and Soundwave were present at the front of the room, standing and waiting for the rest of the numbers to pile in. Mercy she wasn't used to the shoulder-to-shoulder conditions here. The room filled quickly, silence tailing behind and hovering in the stagnant, sediment laced air. She shifted slightly as less and less elbow room was available, trying her best to make way for the numbers spilling in. Once enough had entered, or was surely tuning in, a voice cut through the silent atmosphere, loud and commanding. And all heads turned toward the podium at the head of the room. Vega's included. There, standing and demanding their attention, was Lord Megatron. His return announced with the summons to the hold.

He addressed the masses gathered before him, reiterated his return from his interstellar travels, laid to rest any doubters toward him, then turned attention toward the point of his excursion: The Hymn.

Much like her companion Vega couldn't help the flicker of delighted excitement in her field, and the flick of her finials accompanying it. Even more-so when dredging the Nemesis from its oceanic tomb was touched on as well. The work ahead of them was bound to be bloody, nobody would go without making sacrifices for the cause…but the unfettered potential of it all.

Vega could hardly wait to begin.

Then, he spoke once again…

"War comes. Only by standing together as one can we hope to succeed. There will be no room for uncertainty when we strike and dire consequences await those who would threaten our unity. Be they Autobot, human—or Decepticon."

The final word feeling a little more pointed than the rest. Vega felt no wavering anxiety at this, she knew where her loyalties lie and made no illusions of treachery. However, she knew better than to expect that of others. Every individual bot in this cavern had every potential to turn-tail. She wondered for a brief moment just how many among them were riddled with prickling fear at that moment. But swiftly let the curiosity go.

That wasn't her station…what was however was the Hymn. Again she felt excitement swell in her. There was much work to do, and by primus she could hardly wait.

[Windshield]

Gatherings could be such uncomfortable events, Windshield thought.

Once, he had considered them an excellent way to bond over shared goals. However, he erred a bit more on the cynical side of things these days. The number of assemblies dismissed with gunfire and violence in his youth taught him better than to let his guard down, even if there was no logical reason to worry about such things anymore, not within the beating heart of the Decepticon powerbase, at least. Still, he remained alert as he entered the massive hall.

Sticking close to the tall shadows of his larger brethren, he skulked through the metaphorical underbrush, taking care to avoid those who looked especially fearsome. There were times that being shorter than your average Vehicon paid off, but it wouldn't be the case if he bumped into one of their resident surly bruisers. Attention and commotion were undesirable when he was here simply to listen.

Seeping quietly from one place to another, Windshield eventually settled by the front of the crowd in a rather sparse cluster with only an Eradicon and two Vehicons filling out what passed for a crowd. This suited him just fine. He wouldn't want to stand next to some brute who could squash him if they stomped the wrong way while cheering.

Cheering for what? Megatron? The Decepticon Cause? He did not know.

In fact, now that he thought of it a little harder, the whole thing was quite difficult to process. Megatron was finally back, and he wanted to speak to them all. It was a rare privilege, yet it did not feel like it. Windshield owed his life to Megatron in more ways than one and he had always admired him—so why wasn't he as cheerful as the rest? Even his grim and dour comrades seemed rather charged with energy. If anything, he should be the one shouting slogans from the front rows like so long ago.

Perhaps being a Decepticon wasn't as rosy with a heavy conscience. At this point, Windshield did not even care to pretend he didn't have it. If anything, the mercy he'd taken when meeting Nokta—albeit not misplaced—confirmed as much. Had he only been smart enough to offer it to Patch. Perhaps she would have joined willingly and they could've been cheering together?

As if.

No. That was idle speculation—unrealistic idle speculation. He had no reason to think so, no reason to doubt his actions. He has done this countless times. Captured Autobots, tortured them for information, killed them, never thought of them a second time, and soldiered on as normal. He couldn't afford some war-built medic to change that simply because she put on a smile while he lied to her.

It was at this point that Windshield realized he spent more time thinking about himself than listening to Megatron. In the end, he supposed it was a standard speech—onwards to glory and conquest. Once you've heard one, you've heard them all, he thought. But then, amidst the words spoken, something struck him unexpectedly.

An emphasis on unity in the face of adversity—even should said adversity come from within. He understood that by this, Megatron referred specifically to those Decepticons who would put themselves above the cause, yet some part of it resonated on a deeper level, even if it should not. Windshield smiled a bright smile. He remembered his purpose and promises. There would be a brighter future. Megatron was that brighter future. Without him, he would've died alone in the gutters. Now, he was closer to the Decepticon dream than ever before.

He would do anything for it, even should his last shred of morality be lost in the process. That's how important this was to him. Patch or no Patch, she was but a small price to pay for their salvation. One day, there would be no Autobots like her to make him question his purpose, and a pure and just Decepticon order would reign over all creation. This, he believed with every ounce of his being.

It would be worth it. It would have to be.

Resolutely, the agent dipped his head in respect and waited for the assembly to disperse. He stayed there awhile, glancing at the individuals as they left, even the big scary ones. They were Decepticons too. All of them had done terrible things, sometimes to those they cared for, and so has Windshield. There was no reason to lament a single good Autobot amidst the swill of pompous trash.

Then, and only then, did he leave with a confident strut that suggested he found a new passion for his duties. He was a monster, a callous one to boot, but he was proud to be one with a cause, proud to be one who did not play pretend at a nobler soul. There was no justifying him because he did not need justification. None of them did. Being a Decepticon was reason enough.

[Starscream]

This wasn’t the first time that Starscream had stood alongside Megatron during one of what was probably hundreds of speeches, though after the events of this day so far? He was surprised to be standing here at all.

It’d been a long day indeed, one that he would be truly thankful to see the end of. Yet despite his exhaustion, Starscream stood tall, with wings flared outward. His expression was stoic, with both servos held gently behind himself as they rested at his lower back.

A lot had changed since those early rallies, and the larger ones that’d followed. The location far smaller than the grand, open arenas of home, for one. There was no roar of a crowd packed so tightly there was barely room to move, no buzzing excitement that filled the air to the point it was practically palpable.

Though he was certain some were excited indeed.

Instead, they stood inside Blackridge Hold, with its amber lighting, stale air, and claustrophobic walls of rock. There was silence as the Warlord spoke, with little movement from those who had made their way here to lay witness to his words.

While most of the attention in the room was on the Warlord, he was certain not all of it was.

His gaze moved over those gathered - and what a small group it was. While the Decepticons still had all the advantage over the Autobots here on this planet, and even most beyond, their numbers had certainly dwindled - and it was a sobering thought indeed.

As his attention drifted over the crowd, he noted exactly who was here - and who was not. Thundercracker and Skywarp were both glaringly absent, something that while he had almost anticipated it, found himself far more saddened by their absence than he expected. Knock Out was also missing, it seemed - as was Breakdown.

Maybe there had been some emergency in the Medical Bay that’d pulled them away, though he had not heard word of anything amiss.

He made a point of not staring at anyone in particular as the Warlord continued, though noted the few gestures seemingly meant for him and him alone. A smile that was not returned, and a glance that seemed to go unnoticed. The only time he seemed to falter and break his own rule, and it was for the briefest moment at that, was when his optics met - and held - those of Dart.

His lip twitched, it was subtle - but it was there.

Just as quickly as their optics met, did he shift his attention elsewhere. Dreadwing had stared at him when the speech had begun - and while he was sure the look and the grin that it was paired with were meant to intimidate, he paid it little mind.

Yet it had him thinking.

Carefully, and as quietly as he could manage, one thumb would scrape gently against his index digit. The motion unseen by all but Soundwave who lingered behind to keep watch.

A nervous tell.

He remembered what he’d said to the other Seeker upon his return to Earth. Ah, so proud Dreadwing had been with a piece of Megatron’s precious Hymn, only to be told that their Lord had abandoned them once more.

Starscream still very much believed that.

The Warlord that he had given his loyalty to was long gone. Abandoning the cause - the true cause - losing his way in some insane pursuit of Optimus Prime at the cost of seemingly everything else. Their home. Their dead. Countless had fallen, many planets lost - with Earth seemingly next on the list.

Starscream could not judge - he, too, was mostly in things for himself, but he certainly wasn’t about to bring the Decepticons down with him. At least, not intentionally. They’d already lost Cybertron, and these grandiose, overly ambitious plans would certainly lead them to ruin once more.

They could’ve won this war ten times over by now. Chance upon chance, some of which had been his own to take right here on Earth. Haven had been a failure, that much was true - though it’d been proof enough that catastrophic weapons were not needed to rid this planet of Optimus Prime.

Luckily, there would be no weapon. For every few pieces found, he had either taken or sabotaged what he could. Not enough to arouse suspicion, but enough to do harm. Under the guise of patrol, he had removed just enough to render completion impossible - stashing them away unseen in the Harbinger. A traitorous task that came with more risks than it was probably worth, however they were risks he had been more than willing to take, for it was not just pieces of the Hymn that he had appropriated.

He stood up a little straighter as Megatron finished his speech with the word ‘Decepticon’, knowing full well the word - and the weight behind it - was probably meant for him more than most.

Again his gaze drifted over the crowd, wondering who would stand with him when - and if - the time came.

[Pipette]

The lone atom of Xenon had entered the chamber early. Near absolute zero, it stood in the far back corner merely observing - but importantly not interacting - as other atoms entered and jostled about. Two, four, eight and then sixteen. They seem to multiply as the time drew close. The Xenon was prepared for the appearance of others, highly interactive oxygen and chlorine and hydrogen, but still this made Xenon nervous. Xenon enjoyed their solitary life a bit much and did not enjoy those other atoms who reacted to a set of rules that paradoxically changed due to an underlying unfathomable entirely different set of rules.

It was a simple mental exercise for Pipette's imagination, envisaging all her Decepticon kin as simple elements. If only they were that easy to understand, she might be more comfortable. She sat near a corner and just watched as others entered the room. Truly it wasn't that many people, but for her, it was too many. But that was her own little issue and of no concern for anyone else. She had a duty to attend, and her social anxiety wasn't going to hold her back.

When it seemed the last con had rushed into the room, their mighty leader took center stage. And he spoke.

While certainly the chemist was socially inept, she was far from stupid. She recognized elements within the speech, encouragement, warning, propaganda. Her own convictions were different from many, she knew this of herself, she'd rather conquer a chemistry obstacle than another civilization. But that was irrelevant. She owed her very existence to Megatron and she was grateful. Within their leader - her leader - she recognized the best overall of any of her kin. He possessed strength, durability, and agility. Wise, cunning, and even poetic. She chose to follow her leader in whatever way she was best able to. Which just happened to be with her expertise in chemistry. It was beneficial for both, she thought.

If Megatron wanted to label the Autobots as a menace, then fine. If he wanted to conquer worlds, act the tyrant, and call himself a savior then so be it. She would help. Strength - by it very definition - won, and she believed that the Decepticons were very strong under Megatron.

It was a good pep talk, and it had been far too long since she had been present for one. This wasn't home, but it was good to be among Kin - just not so many at once though.