Ulgris was the closest approximation the nano-intelligence could make to its original designation using the files it had extracted from the life-form Streak. Since abandoning the Cybertronian's carcass, it had not possessed a living host and hadn't had the opportunity to take much more in the way of intelligence from the mass it had consumed. It had absorbed three other Cybertronians into itself since the death of Streak's consciousness, but Ulgris understood that it would need more if it were to survive its next encounter with them. They had come very close to destroying it, and its new form was not consolidated terribly well.
No matter how it tried to reform itself, the synchronization of the various parts didn't work as well as Streak's original body. Ulgris had gathered an immense amount of physical information from the function of Streak's body in a short amount of time, and had easily improved upon that basic design, but as a being only a few angstroms in length, Ulgris had no natural understanding of the function of physics at varying levels of size. The Maximals' mass was very dense compared to most forms of life, which meant that first-hand experience inhabiting one was prudent when designing a new body. Streak's basic frame was very profitable in the wealth of information it provided concerning the physics of this weight range, but Ulgris had assumed too much mass for it to be functional anymore. The wings strained to lift the weight of four Transformers (more like five given the pieces it had consumed back before Streak's body had been destroyed), and increasing their surface area wasn't keeping up with the rate of decreased utility.
Ulgris had designs for a more functional, more streamlined body, but it could not realize them without more mass. Currently, it was either too dense or too volumous to reach the speeds Streak's improved body had reached, a vulnerability it could not tolerate for long. It would need a different strategy in its next encounter. And to affect the changes necessary for that strategy, it would need to absorb more mass. Fortunately, during its scouting, it had encountered another Cybertronian colony with minimal connections to the first. The targets here would have no experience against its previous forms. Without a clear plan prior to attaining more mass, the nano-computer had kept its form multi-limbed to provide it with a wide array of tools to provide flexibility in its intended mass acquisition.
It was even now approaching the base of what Streak had known as the "Conquest" colony. It had more mass than it had as Streak, so even though it could not avoid damage as readily, it could provide itself with an extremely durable epithelial layer, and repair that layer for some time before it exceeded its mass excess. This incursion would be quick and brutal. Its monstrous form would yield almost immediate violence, if Ulgris guessed correctly from Streak's downloaded understanding of Cybertronian (sub-section Predacon) mentality.
Had he been in beast mode, Toxicon would have spat in frustration. Though he was normally not one to pry into the affairs of others, certain scientists and medics had secluded themselves away in one of their personal labs. Normally this would not have bothered him, but instinct told him they were working on something of great significance. He had no data to back up his suspicions, but he had learned long ago to trust his instincts. And he could not go waltzing into their lab and demand to know what they were working on. No, he required surreptitiousness to learn what he needed to know. Which was why he was attempting to hack into the security cameras in their room, but he was not having any luck. Toxicon hated computers. They were finicky, flawed machines, of less intelligence and usefulness than a prey animal. Though Predacons themselves were machines, Toxicon believed that they as a race relied too greatly on these things, these devices that lacked the spark of life. He preferred to be outside, tackling things with a more hands-on approach and earning his right to survive.
Though not one to lose his temper easily, Toxicon was about ready to rip the monitor screen out of the wall of his station in the command center. Before he could, however, it suddenly took on a mind of its own - as did all the other monitors in the command center and various key junctures throughout the Conquest. Something was barreling toward the ship at a speed that did not imply friendliness. Scans did not identify any spark-signature, though it could detect faint traces of Maximal and Predacon technology within it. "What are those Maximals doing over there?" the Predacon wondered aloud as he activated the base's external defenses.
Outside, automated guns came to life, and all targeted the creature. At Toxicon's signal, they unleashed a torrent of energy at the unholy mass of dead bodies, unmercifully pounding at it. However, the weapons were not yet tied into the Conquest's primary generators, instead drawing from individual batteries… and for some reason, that power source was draining faster than usual. Toxicon swore before opening an internal channel: "Commander Bane to the command center. Urgent matter requiring your immediate attention."
What he had here was a rare opportunity for relaxation. All of Shatterbug's projects, both offical and personal, were completed or at least the allotted time had passed for the day. Determined to not have a care in the world, Shatterbug locked up his lab, snatched a pint of energon, stuck a straw in it and began to stride through the colony walls with his typical swagger. As he wandered the dim halls, sipping from the rather bland brew of fuel, he passed by the door to the command center. It was rather notable compared to the other eight identical doors in part because of the blindingly purple lettering covering it. The second reason was that it was slightly ajar. The door had a nasty habit of sticking open just a crack; a minor problem really, not worthy of immediate attention. Still, curiosity over took the engineer. Who could be in there?
Apprehensively, Shatterbug crept toward the door. He could hear a raspy voice from inside, familiar but not that he could attach a face too. Leaning against the wall, he peaked in through the crack. Inside he could see a tall, lanky framed robot standing before a number of monitors all showing the same thing; a monstrous multi-limbed creature being pelted with blasts from the autocannons yet advancing like they were nothing.
Pushing open the door he stepped through, taking another sip from the pint. "Tell me something boney," Shatterbug said as he propped himself up against the wall with one hand will holding his drink with the other. "Should we kiss our afts good-bye yet or is there something I can do?"
Frustration once again plagued Massacre like a swarm of insects, always following in the black Predacon's wake. For most of the morning, she had been looking for a certain masculine Predacon that some liked to call her "mate"; Toxicon. Maybe it was because in a way the femmebot was a simple creature, or maybe she was just plain crazy, but she had invented a sort of "game" she played with him. In general, it involved stalking him around throughout the day until Toxicon began to show signs that he knew he was being followed, at which point she would pounce onto him and attempt to tear one of his arms off. Every time he would swear and beat her with his claws, but she knew he liked it. Or something.
In any case, the huntress's senses alerted her to the presence of a new plaything. Massacre crouched within the boughs of one of the more sturdy trees and watched as a behemoth floated by on six gossamer wings. The monstrosity was heading towards the Conquest. As much as she would have loved to see the slaughter, she had to admit that without the numbers and general security system around the base, the Maximals could hunt them down at their leisure. The faux-xenomorph bared her fangs at the thought of a lowly scum Maximal treating her like their prey. Quiet and quick as the wind, Massacre leaped from branch to branch, tree to tree as she shadowed the creature. The steady drone of the creature had made the small animals of the forest hide in silence as he, it, whatever passed over. The hunter admired this; even the simple, dumb life-forms of the planet recognized and respected this awesome new power, this predator. The femme smiled knowingly as she saw bursts of laser energy flash up from the ground, striking at the beast. The smile was quickly transformed into a grimace of shock and anger when it seemed hardly phased at all by this attack. It was then that she recognized the way that it had moved towards the base, its aura. This creature meant to kill; a predator that was so sure of itself that it hadn't even attempted to hide its approach.
A swift bolt of black lightning shot through the tree's foliage as she raced to the top of one of the larger ones. When she reached the flora's thin crown her powerful leg muscles were like steel springs as she launched herself through the atmosphere and latched onto the humming behemoth. Silvery jaws ripped at the grotesque melding of organic flesh, the tang of metal. Some sort of fluid rushed down her throat, though Massacre couldn't identify what it was. A quick motion and she sprung towards one of the limbs, slashing at a transparent wing as she flew. Her teeth paused for a moment and a large, faceted eye swung around towards her before her jaw once again shot forth and destroyed it in a gush of blood.
The Conquest's defenses roared into life, and Ulgris's massive body received their fire. Its hardened flesh resisted the torrent of fire, a modification it had made in response to the high ratio of light-based weaponry it had seen in its aerial battle before. The monster swooped down low, and tore a turret from its embankment, stowing it away somewhere within its form...a curious motion not quite caught by the Conquest's cameras. The fire continued, but the alien shrugged off the damage. Each laser made a small pock-mark in its hide, which was quickly sealed over by mass salvaged from the burnt and peeled skin, or replaced entirely where it was singed off. It was as Ulgris took off again that the small black shape leapt onto its back.
The damage registered immediately; this particular creature did not employ laser weaponry. One of Ulgris's scattered eyes turned to study the weapon employed: retractable jaws, apparently, with strength disproportional to their size. These pharyngeal jaws shot into the eye next, snuffing out its vision. One wing clawed and its flesh oozing from several holes along its length, Ulgris responded quickly. One three-pronged claw swiveled in its socket-joint and grabbed the transformer's tail - a particularly wicked-looking appendage terminating in a vicious blade - and pulled the creature off with tremendous strength. It might have killed and absorbed the Predacon, but she managed to slide out of its grasp. A split-second reaction, far faster than any motion such a behemoth had any right to, prevented total escape, however. The leg which it had once used to propel itself into the sky, away from the Maximals that had been closing in on it, swung forward and kicked. A direct impact would have destroyed her, but even airborne she managed to twist expertly...the impact was channeled into her shoulder, the kinetic energy safely directed away from her torso.
Wings buzzing thunderously, Ulgris pursued her. It quickly changed course, however. The lasers were, however slowly, eating away at its reserves of mass. It quickly strafed along the ground, zipping by quickly enough to sweep the weapons from their foundations in the ground, consuming them. It was difficult to change direction, being so heavy and moving so fast, and so the job was done more slowly than if it had maintained Streak's form. Soon, though, the guns it had devoured were emerging from the clay-like flesh of its body, and returning fire in the form of blue flashes, destroying the other weapons from a distance with startling precision. It landed, and its wings began wrapping around its body...hardening, becoming rigid and thick. Armor. Its purple eyes peaked out from between the seams, its four stolen guns sprouting from armored ports to lay down destruction on the base's remaining defenses. Ulgris partitioned its functions, dedicating an improvised 'independent' AI to each gun, ensuring maximum accuracy. More Predacons would emerge soon, with their guns quickly being taken out of commission. Then it would feed.
A few more instances of incompetence like this, and Toxicon figured his own death would be inevitable. He could not survive surrounded by bunglers and morons who could not even set up a simple defense grid. Granted, they were a warrior race built for combat, non construction, and Toxicon himself did not have the technological expertise to build things himself. Nevertheless, when this day was over he was going to ask Bane for permission to kill one of the engineers as an example to the others. Few things motivated better. That was assuming their "commander" showed up and did his job himself.
When one engineer came in and volunteered his services, he instantly spared himself from the gory fate Toxicon had for one of his fellows. "You tell me, engineer," Toxicon retorted. "Do we have any external defenses that actually function within the expected parameters?" As he spoke, he never bothered to look away from the monitors. He kept his eyes on the creature, watching it, analyzing it, hoping it would reveal some weakness. With so chaotic a structure, there had to be a vulnerability of some kind.
One thing finally did get him to look away from the beast, if only for a moment: the sight of his mate on the screen, hurtling herself onto its back and grappling with it. Toxicon rose out of his seat. The sight generated a mixture of responses: horror, awe, confusion, pride. Massacre was good at bewildering herself like that. He always figured she would die in some foolhardy stunt like this, and was glad that at least he could watch it and mentally prepare himself for her demise as it happened. Nevertheless, he still didn't want her to die. She was his other half, after all.
Toxicon punched a button and opened the fortress-wide intercom. "All available Predacons, prepare to mobilize," he declared, and not a moment too soon. Before he could worry any further about the cannons running out of power, the enemy destroyed them. Only, it didn't. Before his unbelieving optics, they merged into the creature and began firing onto the hull of the fortress. Toxicon knew they had to get out there, and stop this thing before it killed his m—anyone. "Code red. Distribute weapons from the armory."
Grunting, Shatterbug downed the rest of the Energon and slammed the mug down on a console before him. What was that boney idiot ranting about? "The autoguns are functioning at one hundred percent! Whatever 'Son of Azathoth' out there is made of is tough enough to eat up damage." Crossing the distance between himself and Toxicon and scrutinized the thing on the monitor. He'd over seen the repair of the autoguns himself! They would have been working fine.
The intruder was massive and clearly powerful, multi-limbed and somehow capable of flight. Until it folded its wings around itself and transfigured them into armor plating before sprouting a quartet of guns from its body all of which in a manner far removed from that familiar to Cybertronians. Shatterbug sneered in revulsion. "The Railgun is only at fourty-nine percent charge speed and the accuracy is gone for now. If you can get that thing within at least within a quarter mile and keep it there, it can hit it. If it doesn't kill it, having an explosive projectile rammed down its...whatever it has at nearly the speed of light, it'll certainly hurt."
Toxicon growled at Shatterbug's sensitive ego. What was it about engineers that made them so defensive? Nevertheless, he wasn't about to dance around the insect's self-esteem in this time of crisis. They were all in the same boat, and as he started listing off the exact conditions it would take to get the railgun to work, the survivalist got a distinct sinking feeling. "That's all it will take, eh? That shouldn't be too hard," he responded dryly.
"What da slag is going on here?" Slamming his fist into the doorway, Bane was no in the mood to have his second start barking orders without waiting for him. The large Predacon growled as he stormed in. All the action was taking place around him. That did not make him happy. He should be the one to make the calls here. Storming over to Toxicon, he glared towards the mech, "Well? Ah waitin' for an answer here? What going on?"
The femme hissed with delight; this was the battle she had been craving. Something akin to blood oozed from between her silvery teeth as she dove again and again at the monster. Flesh tore under her attacks and damage was done, though it was all over far too soon. Massacre hardly expected it when suddenly one appendage rotated in its socket to grab her tail. The black alien instinctively dug her clawed hands and feet into the behemoth's hide but it was to no avail; she was ripped forcefully from the surface. She threashed violently, side to side, and braced her feet against the giant's hand. Somehow she managed to slip from its grasp and a bark of laughter erupted from her maw. The xenomorph began to twist her body mid-air to land on the ground with all four feet. This creature isn't all that tough after-And then it struck. Faster than such a creature should be able to move, it hit her with some sort of arm hanging below its body. The hit only glanced her, hitting on the shoulder but it still caused serious damage.
Massacre let out a piercing shriek as she was flung away from the creature by the force of its attack. She hit, rolled, and then picked herself up and jaunted for cover… though with an obvious limp. She wasn't able to run very well with the arm. A quick inspection proved it to be broken; fluid oozed from a break along the arm near the shoulder joint. The creature began to pursue her and she used her hind feet to quickly dodge to one side, running between some of the larger trees. It was either that or the gunfire that distracted it and allowed the female to quickly scale the rough foliage around her and hide in a nook. One clawed hand grabbed at the wound, mechfluid oozing from around her fingers. It was not the highly acidic blood of her chosen species; a detail she had often regretted, but today she found a blessing.
A snarl took hold of her face and she sent a message over her communicator to Toxicon: "Have you noticed the big slagging monster outside yet, love?" she transmitted as she set to work on her arm, producing a sort of black resign from some almost invisible glands on her back. Taking this in her good hand, she spread it over the wound, though it was a bit difficult because the two substances were trying to mix. The femme had lost a good amount of fluids because she had to run on the arm to escape, but it wouldn't hold her out of the fight for long. Leaning back against the tree trunk, she took a moment to rest while she watched between the leaves and branches the monster that was destroying her home.
Epoch was leading the defense, making his way gradually to the exit, guns loaded and ready. A detail of soldiers followed up behind him, clearly intent on getting into the battle, and more than a little distressed at the pace Epoch was taking them there. When he finally emerged from the Conquest, he saw the blue rays streaming from the aberrant monster, and quickly fired two projectiles from the photon cannons slung under his arms and fastened to anchor points on his hips.
Epoch knew the specs on the defensive turrets arrayed around the base, and knew that his cannons should have more effect than they did. Still, the result was disappointing. Each impact blew a half-foot-diameter hole into the front of the monster's body. Positively stunning results for how ineffectual their weaponry had been so far, but poor compared to the terrapin-Predacon's usual expectations. The soldiers he'd brought scrambled around him, immediately seeking safer firing positions and better vantage points to launch their own attacks. The first gun to acknowledge their presence redirected its attention toward Epoch. Three rounds struck him before he had time to lower his shield. The damage was appreciable, but the old reptile was made of extremely durable stuff, and he remained standing. Once his shell was in place in front of his face and body, the fire failed to harm him at all. Improved or not, there was little such guns could do to him if he set himself up for a siege. The gauntlet over his hand opened its mouth, and bright energy began to twist and grow between its jaws. Soon, his particle cannon would be charged, and then he would see how much abuse this creature could take.
Ulgris was perturbed by the potency of the two rounds it took next. Another of its eyes had been put out, and the wounds had been deeper than any left by the turret guns of the base's automatic defenses. At first, it directed only one gun at the offending Predacon, which seemed to be enough to occupy him for the time being. The other soldiers that had spilled out of the base opened fire as well, though, and while the shower of laser fire pouring from them wasn't as penetrating, and much of it was deflected or absorbed entirely by the monster's armor, enough got through to cause concern.
The other three guns it had stolen were redirected frenetically at Predacons as they became threatening, but despite the frantic pace, they were still deadly accurate. Ulgris had successfully damaged and disabled four of its enemies by the time it decided that Predacons were emerging too quickly too battle in this manner. It couldn't gather matter this way, at any rate, which meant the fight had to be closer. Immediately, all of the alien's limbs slammed into the earth and it broke into a dead sprint across the earth separating the two foes. The fire relented momentarily as the Predacons rushed to get out of the way, but for three of them it was already too late.
Three long, mismatched arms snatched three Predacons from their positions on the ground. One was killed immediately, the grip around his chest tightening brutally until the spark chamber was crushed. A diagonal slit appeared in the alien's flesh, neatly bisecting it from end to end. This gaped open dramatically, long enough for all who were near to see jet black needles growingout of the interior...teeth which promptly surrounded the second of the three Predacons, who was thrust up into this cavity and engulfed by the abomination's improvised mouth. The soldier's tormented, terrified screams echoed through the Conquest's entrance, accompanied by the momentary sound of a dreadful gnawing emerging from the center of the beast. The third victim was slain when the monster's hand, transforming suddenly to emulate the weapon Massacre had used to claim its eye, transformed into a jaw, and a second, pharyngeal jaw, erupted from its throat, nearly biting him in half before beginning to drag his mass down through the hollow limb.
The juggernaut stopped its momentum suddenly, turning on the remaining soldiers. The slaughter had begun.
Toxicon did not flinch when he sensed Bane's broad fame filling the doorway of the bridge and then looming behind him. He had little respect for Bane, but the need for a centralized command figure forced him to support Bane. No other Predacon in the colony was strong enough to challenge him since he had taken over, or if they were they were not interested in leadership. Until a more suitable candidate could be found, Toxicon could fake respect… even if it was not always easy. "We have an inbound hostile. It wasn't waiting for you to show up before it made its attack so I ordered the defense grid online. If I hadn't, this thing probably would have entered the base by now." He pointed at the unholy creature on the monitor, clearly aggravated. He resented having to explain his actions, when he had shown Bane nothing but trustworthiness before. He wasn't trying to usurp authority, he was just trying to do his job and keep them all alive.
Toxicon leapt out of his seat as he saw his mate flung out of view. She wasn't dead, he knew that much - he would sense it instantly in his own spark. But in some deep recess of his mind he felt pain and knew it was hers. She was damaged. He had to get out there. "I am going to go join the battle. Shatterbug, man the Railgun," he said promptly, not interested in posturing or pretending with Bane any longer. He turned away from the monitors before he could witness the beast kill and absorb several warriors.
With the tap of a button on his chest, Toxicon ordered the command center's armory to open up for him. A rack of weapons slid up out of the wall, and he chose the two most powerful ion rifles he could carry. The ionization effect left over by the weapons' fire would potentially enhance the effects of his own acid pellets, if used correctly. As he rushed for the exit, he returned Massacre's transmission: "Of course, dear. Who do you think activated the auto-cannons? Stay low, I'm bringing us more weapons."
Shatterbug gave a mock salute. "Aye-aye Captain. Just give me about twenty cycles!" Taking advantage of Bane's seeming ignorance toward his presence, heslipped around the commander and dashed out the door. The quickest way to the railgun controls would be to take the lift to the deck below. The command center was at the top deck, dead center of the colony ship. Hence, the hallway outside of the command center was a circular area with lifts at the north, east, south and west ends. The north lift was directly across from the command center door. Dashing toward the lift door he smashed the palm of his hand against the panel mounted on the frame, making the doors slide away. Inside the surprisingly spacious lift, he called out the number of the deck below and felt the lift jerk and descend. Time was of the essence if they stood a chance of surviving.
The female snarled, punching the trunk of the tree she was sitting in, splintering the bark. Nothing aggravated Massacre more than what she was doing right now: hiding. She wanted to scream, to roar, to burst out from the foliage and run at the monster that threatened her, and her mate. How dare it! How dareit take the position of most feared creature, a position that she reserved for herself. Silver teeth flashed and she screamed in frustration, trashing her head from side to side. A gasp escaped her maw as the movement jerked her shoulder wound and she gritted her teeth against the pain. It had been a bad hit, not the more common slash-wounds she was used to, or even laser burning; it had been a crushing blow, imploding her black chitin into her arm flesh.
The femme quieted and glared at nothing in particular as she received the transmission from her beloved Toxicon: "Oh, I thought your lazy aft was sleeping through the attack, silly me. And who said I need your pathetic guns? I think I was doing quite well by my own means, dearest." The last word was dripping in venom as she checked how the resin was drying. A tentative claw just barely touched it, moving the black goo slightly. It was firming up; good enough to hold her together by not hard enough to protect it. She would have to use those stupid weapons until it did. Favoring her wounded shoulder, Massacre leaped towards the Conquest, all the while keeping a close eye on the monster that was so massive, she could still see it through the trees.
Three more Predacons ingested. Ulgris's body roiled with newly acquired flesh, and limbs of all sizes and shapes began erupting from its amorphous, shifting shape. The jaw lashed forward and snatched the turtle-Predacon's shell from its resting place in the soil, dragging it inward toward the main body, and the heavy Predacon with it. Lasers flashed and cannons discharged, but at this point neither could harm the growing, writhing alien's form. Ulgris identified the leader as the one who had damaged it before, and it was pleased with the acquisition of its new victim. One of its myriad arms grabbed the Cybertronian at the hip and lifted him effortlessly into the air.
Epoch looked up into the widening maw of the monster before him, and he showed no sign of fear as it lifted him up. His face was impassive as he lifted the turtle-head gauntlet into the air, light shining from the recesses of the monster mouth's throat. The old turtle had always been cut from a different cloth, his fearlessness was a thing of legend, his indifference to death extending not only to himself, but to those he commanded. Life meant very little to the old turtle, and none were old enough to know whether that was because he had always been that way, or because he had seen so many die, and so many sparks made anew, that he had the perspective to understand just how little any one of them meant against the scale of the conflict they were in… or even the conflict of the universe, in which one being must always struggle against another to survive. Perhaps, after millenia of watching the vicious struggle, he had finally become entirely cold to the brutality of it all. Perhaps he had simply been programmed from the start to not be bothered by it. Maybe he had always known in his spark that death was the ultimate conclusion of any thing living, and that to fear the conclusion of himself was no more sensible than fearing the beginning or any other portion. Whatever the reason, Epoch had no fear as he was lifted into that gaping void of teeth, and raised his cannon into the beast's open body.
The detonation was too close even for the turtle's powerful body to endure. The flash of light seared the flesh away from both of them, and sent both of them flying. Epoch's most powerful weapon had discharged inside of Ulgris, and the alien's tattered body-blown out from the inside-felt the consequences of its detonation. The alien shrieked, the sound reaching an audio-shorting pitch as it reconstructed itself and began crawling on all fourteen of its new limbs toward the Conquest. Predacon fire poured down on it, but its exterior armor was still in good condition, and it could shrug off most of their fire. One arm, its flesh tapering down into a very narrow, very hard and wicked point, stabbed into the crashed ship's hull, and Ulgris began to slave the matter on the inside as Predacon fire tore at its body from without. Soon, though, it made a discovery.
The interior of the ship was empty of radiation. This planet's ambient radiation, which disrupted its slaving process and made extensive matter acquisition impossible...it wasn't present within the confines of the facility. Ulgris capitalized on this immediately. No longer needing to limit itself to that which was confined in bio-mass, the alien quickly began extending its influence over the mass of the Conquest. As its outer layer was burned and shot off, sloughing away in great sheets with the rain of laser fire, it transferred itself - the nano-intelligence that was the center of everything - through its arm and into the structure. Now, Ulgris was finally within a construction large enough to adhere to some of its more sizable form blueprints. Given time, it could get off of this rock by reshaping this mass. First, though, it would kill these meddlesome Predacons. It might finish up with the Maximals too, before it left. Suddenly, the Conquest's remaining guns turned on the firing Predacons and opened fire.
Normally, Bane would have lashed out in anger towards Toxicon as he took that tone with him. He was the boss and they should have slagging waited for him to show up. But then he saw the monster and how it was attacking the ship. Pit, it was actually eating the whole thing and... was it using their weapon against them?
"Dis is Bane. All Predacons report to battle outside da ship! If ya don't, I'll skin ya alive myself! he roared over the Conquest's intercom. Pulling out his newly-fixed cannon and charging up, the Predacon commander stormed out of the bridge to join the field of slaughter and defend what was his.