Dispenser was still getting used to his new living conditions. It had only been a year since Megatron gave him the position of brewmaster, but he still was not comfortable with his fellow cons treating him like he was something special. Well, except for one.
"Need my help with anything today, Dis?" Said a sizeable looming protoform, already the size of a standard cybertronian and still growing.
"No thanks, Deathsaurus, you can have the day to yourself. After you finish your studies!"
"Yes, DAD!" The young con said in an annoyed tone before transforming into his alt mode, A mix between a dragon and a t-rex. Most of the protoforms preferred beast-like bot modes and standard vehicle modes, Dethsaurus preferred the opposite. Dispenser took a moment to watch his not-so-little guy fly away. He was so different from the wounded hatchling he picked up off the floor a year ago. But he did not have time for all of that. He needed to get to work. Transforming into what had become his new standard alt-mode, a cybertronian UTV, he drove off to do just that. Dispenser gave personal inspections every forty-two hours, it kept the troops on their toes. And he used troops in the loosest possible terms. Being left in command of a base where two-thirds of the staff are barely old enough to contribute protoforms was the human equivalent of being stranded on a colony of rowdy teens.
"Watch out, boss!" One of the said protoforms yelled as a chunk of the wall almost fell on Dispenser.
"What is the meaning of this!?" The very angry Dispenser yelled as he transformed to scold the children he had working construction.
"You told us to renovate the east side of the ship to expand the crew quarters, remember?"
"Yes, I do. I AlSO REMEMBER THAT THIS IS THE WEST SIDE OF THE SHIP!" The confused protoform turned on his holographic map of the base. Then he smacked himself on the head as he realized that the map was upsidedown.
"Sorry about that, boss. We will have this wall back up in no time."
"Please do." Dispenser said as he transformed and drove off, grumbling to himself about the kids these days. The ship, and it was so very far from that by this point that Dispenser was thinking of just renaming it a colony, was kept relatively productive. The central part of the new buildings was the refinery. There, minerals gathered from mining outposts all across Mars were turned into synthetic Energon. Without which, they would all die out. As he rolled into the building, he went straight to the con in charge to get his report.
"Acidstorm, I trust things are going well." Dispenser asked as he transformed in front of the lime-green flyer he was addressing.
"Ah, you are a few moments off from your usual arrival time, brewmaster. Were there any complications on your way to the refinery?"
"Just some kids dropping a wall on me. I know they're doing their best, but it's hard not to be mad at them."
"Indeed. I'm happy to report that we have been able to keep the sixty percent edible substance production to maximum capacity. The weapons-grade compound is, however, suffering a lower yield as a result."
"The kids are still just training right now. It will be some time before they are ready to kill Autobots."
"But... Won't that upset, Lord Megatron?" Dispenser paused. Ever since Megatron switched to non-integrated weapons, the entire army has followed suit. This created the necessity for producing, just for weapons Energon. Dispenser usually was able to convince his master that keeping the troops from starving was more critical than arming them, but the big man was losing patience.
"The expanded crew quarters are almost finished. We will have the constructicons expand the refinery next. And if that is not enough for, Lord Megatron... Then I will be the one to receive whatever punishment he deems fit." Acidstorm slumped when he heard that, having grown a respect for Dispenser, the idea of him getting it from Megatron wasn't funny to him anymore.
"Cary one then, I have to continue my inspection."
"As you command, brewmaster." Dispenser then made his way out of the refinery and towards the weapons factory. They were given the command from Megatron himself that he wanted two weapons for each soldier, minimum. Getting the guns out was not the problem, however, loading them was.
"Bludgeon, how are things in the factory?" Dispenser said, addressing a rather odd Decepticon. One who chose a human skull faceplate and a suit of armor as his body design.
"We are a little behind schedule on the ammo, brewmaster. But we got the guns for um, and if we run out of stuff to shoot at the vermin, we got plenty of swords, axes, and maces to do the job."
"I will include your report with mine to Lord Megatron."
"Be sure to put in a good word for me to take your place after he kills ya." Bludgeon chuckled. He was the only one left who still openly wished for Dispenser's gruesome death. Everyone else had the courtesy to only think it. Dispenser moved on to the science division, his second favorite part of the base. After the sun harvester blew up, Soundwave scanned the structure from orbit. Megatron ordered that the brightest minds of the Decepticons be given a nice little corner to try and figure out how to recreate the device. Dispenser had it double as a learning institution, reasoning that they were running low on brilliant cons, and so they had to make more. He could see as he walked past the learning area; he could see that Deathsaurus did not go straight to his studies. He made a note to scold him later after he had his talk with the science director.
"Deluge, how are the special projects coming along?"
"Oh, quite well, actually! We just finished a probe that we believe can harvest solar energy. But we will have to actually launch it."
"And the secret project?" Deluge looked around to make sure they were not being watched. It was, after all, dangerous to do anything that was not the will of Megatron.
"We have analyzed the ship's engines... And we think that we could recreate the drive used to get here in the first place." The poor scientist whispered. Not wanting anyone to know he was doing anything he wasn't supposed to.
"Excellent work. I won't keep you then." Dispenser then moved on to his final destination. The training grounds slash recreation fields. From shooting ranges, gladiator pits, art exhibits, and an Energon caffey, this area was used to make the protoforms ready to fight, and made training for war fun. He arrived at the biggest of the gladiator pits to find the one overseeing the training of the troops.
"Flamewar, what news do you have for me?" The small con turned to look at her commander, looking much like the RC triplets but red and black.
"Just admiring that brother of yours, he's the best fighter we have ever seen." Dispenser looked down into the fighting pits to see Deathsaurus fighting five other cons all at once. He shook his head in disappointment.
"Aside from my brat brother skipping classes to play in the pits, do you actually have anything to report?"
"Yes, the kids are getting really good at fighting. They still need work, but the scores from the last wargames were quite promising."
"I will include your report in mine to Lord Megatron, carry on. And make sure Deathsaurus gets to the study hall at some point today!" Dispenser then transformed and rolled out back to his office.
...
Dispenser had just finished sending his report to Megatron, and he was awaiting the response. Soon his computer screen light up with instructions.
"Your report is adequate. To speed up the production of weapons-grade Energon, the reserve force located on the moon will be brought out of stasis lock and put to work at Nemesis base. You are to improve or be replaced. All hail Lord Megatron." Dispenser looked over the response over and over again.
"We had reinforcements on the moon the whole time!?"