Bebelous System

Nemesis

Red optics glanced about the command center, resting a mere moment on a soldier before moving onto the next. Wings scratched the back of the chair they were pinned against, uncomfortable but a relief for his injured leg that still ached. His trinemates were on each side of him, protective of their injured leader and, although none would admit it, nervous about being on the warship.

The trio were further away from the rest of the soldiers, an ominous presence in the shadows of the ship as they idly and occasionally glanced about the command center. With dark plating they all merged into the walls of the ship, the only way any could tell they were there was by the red glow of their optics. Their most recent mission was the only reason they were on this specific warship in the first place, and now Razorwing regretted agreeing to it.

It wasn't only because of his leg.

Sighing loudly, Frigid analyzed her clawed digits with as much enthusiasm as she did when writing her reports (which was to say, none). But he had known her since they were sparkling and he knew she was just waiting for the fight to begin, as much as she liked to say otherwise.

Devious was as silent as always, near as quiet as their resident telepath, the latter at his terminal. He cared little for what the creator was doing, but kept an optic on what his youngest twin creations were going to attempt. For the moment nothing, but everyone knew they were waiting for a moment to try and cause some disruption. Even if they were using a datapad, the occasional flicker of their optics towards the center of the room gave away their game.

And no matter how much Frigid pretended not to care, he knew that she was paying more attention to it than he was.

The trio did like a good fight, even if they weren't a part of it.

Cold digits slid across his helm, and he leaned into the touch, letting out a sigh that could almost be called content.

"Screamer has that sneer upon his faceplates. I think we're in for a real treat." His trinemate purred, leaning against their third as the he noticed the all too familiar expression of superiority on the SIC's faceplates. Sure enough, the seeker began an all too familiar scenario, one that would satisfy them and the twins.

"Megatron's a fool who's been chasing a ghost for centuries" His nasally tones weren't as painful to listen to as many assumed, so long as he didn't start his screaming. Then, some of the Autobots rumors could be considered true.

"I seriously doubt we'll find this 'All-Spark' aboard such an insignificant vessel." His arms crossed and optics narrowed, it was almost reminiscent of when the trio had actually respected and feared him. Now it was just something that could barely be called respect and loyalty. But one could argue that he was correct, that the complaints held merit. ut to do so would be insinuating that nemesis was wrong, and with how wired both the ship and crew were, a violent fight would not be preferable.

Although it would be fun...

Nevertheless, Nemesis had not been wrong so far, and even he was not so stupid as to insult her.

"Traitor! Megatron is wise," Frigid cackled as the loud and over-obsessed lieutenant's pedfalls rattled the floor, and the plating of the ship shifted irritably. The large cybertronian loomed over the seeker, although it was clear he did not feel threatened by it. "Megatron is bold. Megatron will return the Decepticons to Cybertron, and-"

"-And wipe our homeland clean of the stench of Autobot tyranny, blah dee blah blah blah." The only techno-organic that the trine knew of interrupted him, voice a raspy allure that had tempted the trio more than once.

If only she weren't part organic…

"Did you memorize that speech Lugnut," she mocked, her voice deceitfully sweet as she came far closer than most others would dare, before it turned sour, "Or is it just hard-wired into that thick one-track processor of yours!" She pointed at her own helm, before a beam shot past and encased her arm in ice. All red optics shot towards the mech as he stepped out of shadows.

"As usual Blackarachnia," Razorwing could feel Devious tense behind him, the mech not having forgotten the last time he had taken on the triple changer. It hadn't been entirely fair for the seeker, being three against one, and they had barely arrived in time to keep him from having his spark ripped out. He stepped forward as the cannons on his back reverted to their original position, the ice falling off them. "Your demeanor is as unpleasant as that cursed organic mode of yours."

"Blow it out your actuator three face." She hissed, shattering the ice with only a clench of her servo. The trio's wings peeked in interest.

Perhaps it was time to reconsider their earlier stance…

Frigid grabbed Devious's arm before he could bolt as the triple-changer swapped personas, the face having turned red.

"The name is Bliztwing insect, remember it, cause it's the last thing you ever gonna hear, before I-" Another swap and another servo onto Devious's arm, this time his own. "Express my feelings in song! The itsy bitsy spider crawled up the-"All four of the Decepticons voices began overlapping, each attempting to insult and berate the others as the cassette twins began throwing in their own, only adding to the chaos. Frigid was laughing, not even trying to keep her volume low. The third in command himself had stopped his typing, and almost seemed to be wondering what he had done to deserve this. But that didn't seem right.

…Did it?

Razorwing couldn't mull on it any longer as the door to the command center slid open.

He straightened in his seat, his trinemates each standing to attention on both sides. He would be doing the same if it weren't for his leg, injured on the same mission that had gotten them onto this ship in the first place. The mighty leader of the Decepticons presence silenced the room, the twins having moved closer to their creator at his command. Now was not the time for games.

Megatron kept his pace even and unhurried toward the center of the command centers bridge, his silent third in command almost teleporting to his side without any prompting.

"Soundwave, Report."

"Energy readings are off the charts/Couldn't be anythin' else/Weak Autobots are nothing." A mixture of a deep feminine rasp, a polyhexian accent and his own sent a chill up the sitting seekers backstruts. He had never liked it when their resident communications officer did that, had never understood his 'vow of silence' of why ever he kept quiet. It unnerved him no matter the reason, and insulted him slightly when his own words were used, or on one memorable occasion, thrown back at him.

But their Lord didn't seem to care, and so far, only one had attempted to complain about it.

Honestly, it was a miracle the seeker still held the command he did.

…And was still in one piece, now that he thought about it.

"Shall I fire on the Autobots?" Starscream's voice was dripping with insincere loyalty, and Razorwing rolled his optics, idly glancing at the screen before turning his attention back towards their leader. The vessel displayed on the screen was much smaller compared to the might of Nemesis, and a direct strike from any of her cannons could destroy it. And, if Nemesis was right, it would defeat the purpose of having been searching for the Allspark all these centuries.

The blast would probably destroy us all he mused, glancing again at the unassuming ship, before he frowned.

Why did it seem so familiar…

"Cripple their ship but do not destroy it. Yet." The narrowing of his optics uneased the trio. They weren't used to being in such close proximity with the any of the high-ranking officers, and it was fairly obvious. His optics settled on him momentarily, glancing over him before settling on his leg.

Primus above this was how he was going to die

"Yes yes yes! Brilliant strategy, oh wise and great leader." It seemed as though luck was on his side, as the Warlord focused his attention more on the stuck-up seeker. Razorwing idly tucked his injured leg behind his good one, his trinemates servos settling on his shoulder. He said nothing, but merely watched as a beam of energy shot towards the Autobot vessel.

It avoided the shot, using tactics that the seeker trio recognized but could not place. It was familiar, and filled them with a sense of dread that didn't make sense. They were on the most lethal ship in the galaxy, if not the universe. They should have nothing to worry about.

Right?

Turns out they had quite a bit to worry about.

Devious and Frigid were bolting down the hall as the largest seeker had Razorwing in her arms, the second smallest of the trio activating the escape pod to be ready for them as the unstable energy of the space bridge could be felt throughout the ship. The rest of the crew were not close behind them but were not too far either, all of them having taken cue from the fleeing seekers.

A full trine had better survival instincts than a separated one, and the lone seeker was left behind.

If they were correct, there would probably be a speech about how 'Megatron has fallen, now I, Starscream, am leader of the Decepticons!' or something other. Perhaps something less obvious and more along the lines of it being a dark day.

It wasn't exactly high on their list of things they cared about, to be honest.

The escape shuttle bay was not that much further, and the confirmation beep of an escape pod beginning its activation sequence was a relief. It also stopped Razorwings demands for them to leave him, as he would only be a burden they couldn't keep.

… Well, that and Frigid's growls for him to shut up.

The trio slid into the pod, its doors sliding shut behind them as it began blast-off sequence. There was a sensation of nausea, as every seeker felt when not doing their own flying. It was far more manageable on the ship itself, considering its vast size, but the claustrophobic area meant they could feel the differences in direction far easier, even in.

Although the escape pods weren't small, they were made for only two warframes and they weren't large enough that the trio didn't feel cramped. They pinned their wings close to their frames, gritting their dentae at the rattling of the ship as they pushed its limits to get as much distance between them and the Nemesis. Once they were far enough away from the blast, they would ease on their speed and hopefully it would smooth out, if it weren't damaged.

The dots on the radar showed how close the other pods were, and the distance they were making between them and the last of the great Decepticon Warships.

They only felt regret she didn't have a chance to escape.

Nemesis knew the instant her lord left the ship what would happen.

Call it the intuition of a warship who was on her… sixth war now was it?

She wasn't really sure, these centuries spent floating along left her confused sometimes.

So, she shifted her core into an escape pod, leaving her previous form to be nothing but a hollow shell, as her favorite entered.

So, what is our plan?

"Retreat/Regroup."

At least's its something.

Even though he was the last to enter, the escape-pod managed to be fired off before the others, its design slightly more aerodynamic.

Her spark felt mournful as the explosion encompassed her old self, the shriek of the unfortunate seeker unheard by everyone but her.

Solar System

Earth

Marianas Trench

The Challenger Deep

A crack open of eyes underneath miles of Open Ocean set the deep blue of it a glow of purple, glancing about the place they had made their home. It reminded them of the space, of being suspended in nothingness.

But as several beings passed by it, some vicious while others appeared harmless, the creature realized that it wasn't as nothing as they had once believed, or as it had once been.

The large alien stretched, spindly pointed legs near touching the bottom. Arms stretched forward, before they curled back up, and the massive beast fell back into their slumber.

They could wait.