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Warden's Office

Maximus was at least partially relieved that Punch did not seem to be completely comfortable with what he was doing. It was dangerous work. Perhaps the most dangerous. Though Megatron had no love-loss for any Autobots, whenever he had learned of a traitor in his ranks--or someone playing both sides--he had always seemed to seek them out with a special brand of rage. There were not many still alive. The mech in front of him now was one of the few, but even Maximus had to wonder how long it would be before Punch's service came to an end.

"I might agree. I'm not so sure yet. I at least agree that the potential is there for your work to produce more benefit than cost, but we'll see," Maximus said, taking another swig from his energon cylinder.

Maximus moved to get a better look at the file that Punch was indicating. He wasn't surprised that Autobot Command, at some level, had apparently decided to put a higher premium on stopping Scorponok and getting him out of the war effort--one way or another. It was a laudable goal--one that Maximus himself had been working on for some time--so he understood their perspective on that front completely.

"I'll have safeguards in place. I want Scorponok taken off the battlefield as much as anyone, but let's make something clear right now: you jeopardize my men and I'm going to take you out, too. I don't care what spy game Prowl or anyone else in Autobot command wants to play. This is not what I signed up for and Prime knows it. Right now, the benefits of what you're doing should outweigh the costs. When that changes, our relationship changes and I'll do what I have to do to keep my men safe."

Fortress Maximus could already feel why he was not cut out for the espionage game. It felt too similar to the sort of thing that Decepticons lived to do. For many of them, it was built right in to their function. Max had little use for it.

"Funny that you should decide on him," Maximus said even as he privately acknowledged Rung's transmission.

>>Copy that. Proceed on your recommendations,<< Max transmitted back textually.

"Since he's been taking up a good chunk of my attention here in the last few breems."

Southern Wing – Level 4 – Block C

Kronus let out a heavy sigh before he tilted his back against the wall he was still secured to. The young guard had provided him with everything he would need in order to escape the Pit-hole he was locked in. The right time just had to present itself. Streamlight was such a naïve ‘Bot he had no inkling that he would become an integral part of the thief's quest to break out.

He hadn’t had the opportunity to get any other guards on his side due to their vorns of experience with the kind of inmate that Kronus was. They were much older and set in their way to even be considered. But Streamlight, he was different. So young and so willing to believe what his optics saw and not what his superiors told him. The thought of using him to his own advantage and then eviscerating him brought a wide smile to his faceplate.

Rung’s Office

Taking the pile of datapads that were piled on the edge of his desk, Rung gently pushed them together until all of their edges were in precise alignment. The action could have been considered a symptom of OCD, but it was highly unlikely. The psychologist simply liked things orderly.

The gentle beep from his terminal nearly caused the psychologist to topple over the neatly arranged datapads and to fall back into his chair as well. He hadn’t expected a response so soon from the Warden, especially since he knew Maximus would have mulled through his decision for quite some time.

Rung quickly set back down into his chair as he opened the link and read the textural response to what the Warden had to say about his suggestion. The psychiatrist brought his hand to his chin and rubbed it in thought. Maximus had responded all too quickly for his liking. Rung opened a comm link to Maximus, his natural curiosity taking over.

>>”Sir, is there something you would like to discuss? Your quick response to my suggestions is not within your usual personality parameters. Would you like me to come to you to discuss whatever it is on your mind, or would you rather come here?”<<

The psychiatrist left the link to Maximus open while he opened another link with Kronus’ guard.

>>”Streamlight, this is Rung. I have some good news for Kronus. I will be coming down to the cell block to discuss it with Kronus myself.’<<

Southern Wing – level 4 – Block C

Streamlight had just rounded one end of the Block he was assigned to when his internal comm line pinged to life. The young guard stopped in his trek and opened the link with the resident psychiatrist. His optics widened in fear as Rung had mentioned that he would be heading down to speak with Kronus himself. Panic washed over Streamlight as he quickly responded back in the most neutral tone possible.

>>”Of course, sir. I’ll be waiting for you when you arrive.”<<

“Slag! Slag! Slag!"

Streamlight set off at a dead run in order to arrive on the opposite side of the block where Kronus’ cell was located. He hadn’t expected Rung to come down himself to see the thief. He needed to get back before the psychiatrist arrived.

South Wing Activity Area

Just as Steelhand had wanted, Vroom had kept quiet as the senior guard passed by the Autobot inmate. As he continued, he scanned around the area with his optics to see if Umbra was around. Though it took quite a few astroseconds he managed to see her, and though she was keeping to herself, at least she wasn't sneaking around any more.

Looks like things are getting back to normal. Just don't let anything else happen, make the rest of the activity period forgettable.

Continuing with his rounds, Steelhand came toward the area where three of the Monstercons- Scowl, Slog and Icepick were occupying.

Like Kronus, the six inmates that were known as the Monstercons were mentionted during staff meetings, with special measures being taken with them at all times. The exact details as to why weren't made completely clear to most of the guards like Steelhand. What was clear was that the six could never, under any circumstances, all be in the same place at the same time. This meant that at least one was kept in solitary at all times, even when there was no good reason for it.

Amongst the guards many rumors had circulated; they were Megatron's elite special ops unit, they were a top secret Decepticon experiment, they possessed an unstoppable weapon that could only be assembled when all of them were together. One that Steelhand most remembmered was the ravings of a fanatical inmate who claimed the Monstercons were Heralds of Unicron, foretelling the Chaos Bringer's reign of terror and destructions.

To be honest, Steelhand never thought much for rumors or speculation. Maximus' orders about the Monstercons were always followed, regardless of why and how. Whatever reason Maximus and Autobot command had for not telling any more, that wasn't Steelhand's place to question.

Passing by the three Monstercons, Steelhand gave each a quick look to the optics, making sure they new he was watching.

They're all dangerous criminals, every one of them. So what's so special about these inmates?

Southern Wing – level 4 – Block C

Rung had left his office not long after he contacted Streamlight letting the young guard know that he would be down in Block C to speak with Kronus. With a datapad in hand, his optics focused on its contents, the psychiatrist rounded the last corner and made his way down the long corridor to the inmate’s cell.

From the opposite end of the corridor Streamlight came running, the speed with which he moved caused him to slip along the floor before he stumbled to get his feet back under him and continued on. He could see the slim orange mech already half way to both their destinations. Streamlight cursed under his breath as he realized that he would be too late to get to Kronus’ cell in time to reattach the face restraint.

Finally arriving at the location, Rung took a quick look around but did not see the inmate’s guard. Worried that something could have happened to him Rung called out.

“Streamlight? Is everything alright? Hello?”

From the end of the corridor Rung finally spotted the mech he was supposed to meet.

“Ah, there you are. Well, what say you let me speak with Kro…”

As Rung turned to face the cell he was unsure at what to say or do. Restrained to the wall was his patient his face restraint removed. Rung turned to look back at the young guard; his eyebrows arched high in confusion.

“Streamlight. You know the protocol. He needs to be completely restrained even in his cell. Why? Why would you go against protocol?”

Streamlight let out a defeated sigh as he pulled Rung away from the cell and spoke to him in a hushed tone.

“I’m really sorry Rung. I just….I just couldn’t leave him in that cell without giving him some kind of freedom. I mean, he never even had a chance to remain in the yard.”

The young mech shrugged slightly.

Rung brought his hand up to his temple and rubbed vigorously. He would have to speak with Maximus…

“You’re not going to report this?”

The question caused the psychiatrist to flinch slightly. It was what he had to do, but in all reality, Kronus was denied the freedom he had actually fought hard to acquire.

“Not this time, Streamlight. But please, please, consult me before you do anything like this again. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

Rung flashed him a smile before he moved back in front of the cell. He offered Kronus a curt nod before he unlocked the door and stepped inside, Streamlight remained outside.

“I have some good news for you. You are not going to be transferred to solitary. With the progress you’ve made I find it counterproductive to inflict that kind of trauma to you. You can return to the activity area, but in order to keep you and the other inmates safe you will need to wear wrist restraints attached to a waist restraint.”

Unable to nod in agreement Kronus instead voiced his acknowledgment.

“I can agree with that. But would it be possible to return to the activity area now? We can begin our sessions in the yard. You said so yourself, I’ll be completely restrained, unable to hurt anyone, including myself.”

Rung took a few moments to think on the request. He had spent time with a few of his patients in the yard, and he did feel safe there, especially with so many guards stationed throughout. It would also give Kronus a chance to socialize outside of his confined office and his cell. Perhaps he would even relax enough to let Rung in completely.

“I suppose it would be therapeutic for you to be out there, socializing and expanding your processor. It will also give us the opportunity to continue our discussion from our last scheduled meeting.”

Rung turned to the door and leaned out part way. He gently tapped Streamlight on the shoulder to which the young mech looked over his shoulder at the psychiatrist.

“Streamlight I want you to replace Kronus’ face restraint and apply the level 5 restraints as well.”

The guard nodded and moved past Rung. Carefully he made his way to the mech against the wall and reattached the face restraint. Once applied Streamlight released the head barrier and then retrieved and attached the level 5 cuffs and waist chain and. Now that Kronus was properly secured Streamlight was able to take him by the upper arm and guide him out into the corridorw here Rung was waiting.

The trio headed out of Block C and toward the activity area where the thief would get a second chance at his slightly gained freedom.

South Wing Activity Area

Vroom entered the exercise part of the activity area and went to the section which contained the weights. Being a mechanized being, he had no muscles to build so the weights became more a matter of proper maintenance of his systems. After not moving much all day, such exercise kept his systems in peak operating efficiency. Still, before he got to that he decided to work with the punching bag for some time. Get some frustration out of his system would probably not be a bad idea.

As he began to punch the bag, trying to keep a good, active foot work, he began to sing an old song from his carnival days. A simple tune about working hard in the day to party in the night that he would use to sing with the others as they prepared the show for that day.

Wardens Office.

"Your concerns are understood Sir, however, with the greatest respect, I cannot stress enough the importance of two things..." Punch looked directly up at the giant Fortress Maximus to ensure he knew the severity of what he was about to say.
"Counterpunch is a Decepticon. He thinks, talks, looks and above all acts like a Decepticon, and for this operation to succeed I must be as convincing to the guards as I am to the other Decepticon inmates. In my escape, there is a high possibility that some of your officers will get hurt. I however give you my assurance - and that of Security Command - that any injuries to your guards caused by myself will be superficial and non-life threatening, but they will look convincing. I have been extensively trained in non-lethal combat techniques for exactly this reason and Counterpunch is armed with a Photon Rifle specifically because it has a non-lethal disablement setting for unavoidable instances where I must fight my fellow Autobots. I have no intention of causing lasting harm but my cover is the imperative here, which takes me to my second point, Sir - there is as much risk to me here as there is to any of your guards."

Punch was finding it difficult to maintain his cool as the Counterpunch side of him was screaming obscenities at Maximus, one or two he almost agreed with, but this was not the first time he had to explain the importance of his position to a commanding officer, and he forced himself to keep Counterpunch under control, again.

"I do not have the luxury of asking your guards to 'be nice'. They are highly trained but I am well versed in your procedures for dealing with a jailbreak. They will use lethal force against me, so regardless of what you or I signed up for, my mission has to take priority and I will defend myself however is necessary. It is your duty to ensure that the guards present on the arranged date are chosen for their effectiveness to deal with this type of incident using the correct procedure, Sir.”

Punch took another moment to compose himself. He alone had the means to end the war in this sector and take out a considerable faction of the Decepticons in this region by ending Scorponoks reign, permanently. The pressure of doing this was an incredible burden that he could share with no one, not even Prowl was aware of just how close he was to losing control at times and how much Counterpunch was starting to influence his every day actions, and it was not something he was willing to share with Fortress Maximus either.

"The escape plan itself is designed to reduce the chances of causalities. A series of power failures will begin to affect the facility. As per procedure, these will trigger the alarm system and lockdown the cells as the backup power routines take over until main is restored. The time between the main grid failure and secondary generators is 12.5 micro-cycles and on a predetermined date signalled by a visit to Rung where he will be ordered by you to pass Counterpunch falsified information of Punch’s demise, a blackout will be triggered whilst Kronos and I are still in the minimum security section, under escort back to our containment. During the 12.5 micro-cycles of power failure, I will remove my restraints and take whichever guard you assign to me that day hostage. I will use my hostage to access the maintenance section where you will have a security operative, disguised as an engineer with personal shuttle transport, looking at the power couplings to establish where the black-out problem is coming from. I will overpower him, and escape in his shuttle leaving the guard behind. Kronus will be unaware of my plan until it has begun, and will either be forced to follow me or to try to leave on his own. Should he try the latter then I will leave him to be dealt with by your guards. I will leave him restrained until we are in the shuttle to ensure he cannot further attack the guards I have incapacitated and release him once we are safely away, whereupon your role as my handler will be over.”

This scheme had been worked out to the smallest detail between himself and command, he now needed to be sure that the Warden understood what he had to do as part of this. “Sir, you will need to orchestrate the blackouts and contact command to get the 'engineer' and shuttle, and pick the guards on duty on the day we are both taken to see Rung. If you are happy with this, then we can discuss my entrance into the facility as Counterpunch and conclude this meeting.”


No plan like this was ever perfect, but this was as close at they would get. Minimum casualty risk, and maximum chances for success. He just hoped Maximus agreed.

South Wing Activity Area

Slightly disappointed that Steelhand had merely passed by Vroom, Umbra decided to gleen as much information as she could from it. Vroom obviously knew what the limits were when dealing with the guards. Perhaps he knew more than simply that. Umbra suspected that Vroom liked to test the limits-all limits, whether the patience of the guards or the security of the prison itself. It could be very useful to acquaint herself with him. She turned her attention away from him as he moved out of her sight.

Later. I have time.

Umbra watched Steelhand continue his rounds rather disinterestedly. She immediately noticed the quick glance he sent to a particular group of prisoners. In any other guard, it might have been a nervous reaction from some past experience with the prisoners. She knew from her short encounter with him that Steelhand did care not show any outward signs of unease. Her curiosity piqued, Umbra turned to inspect the group more closely.

Since the vast majority of the prisoners incarcerated in Garrus-9 Penitentiary were Decepticons, she could safely assume that this bunch were Decepticons. However, that much was obvious and didn't provide any real insight into the identities of the prisoners. Umbra sighed mentally. She had been out of the war for so long that she could scarcely remember any of the Decepticons by name. By the Primes, she didn't even know if Optimus and Megatron were still the leaders of the two factions.

Umbra's ignorance frustrated her to no end. As a reconnaissance agent, her function dealt with information-gathering it, protecting it, reporting it, using it. Her function had melded with her natural curiosity, and not knowing was almost unbearable. Umbra cast off of her frustration stubbornly. She didn't need to be antagonizing about that when she could do something about it.

Umbra waited until Steelhand had passed by the group. After he passed out of sight once more, Umbra strolled toward the group of Monstercons. It was strange how easily she could approach Decepticons that, outside of the walls of the prison, would rip her to shreds without the slightest provocation. The feeling was rather unsettling, but Umbra cast it off with another mental effort.

I'm just another prisoner. Just another prisoner.

Funny how the thought gave her both a degree of comfort and sorrow. Umbra steeled herself as she stopped before the Monstercons. She nodded to Slog, Scowl, and Icepick, greeting them, and turned her optics over to where Steelhand had disappeared. The action served two purposes: To introduce the topic of her conversation and to keep her face straight. She didn't trust herself. "Hey. Do you guys now what that guard's problem is?" Umbra gestured in the general direction Steelhand had gone in.

Southern Wing – Activity area

After traversing through the winding and twisting corridors the trio of mechs, one guard, a psychiatrist and a completely restrained inmate, made their way back out of the prison facility and into the activity area. With his weapon at the ready Streamlight kept in step with both the other mechs, but he needed to keep his distance, only slightly, in order to keep the others’ conversation confidential.

Upon their arrival several of the inmates stopped their conversations, most mid –sentence, in order to get a good look at the newly arrived group. Once they realized the mech completely restrained was the same that nearly decapitated one of the other inmates they began to whisper, their optics still glued to Kronus.

“Kronus. I have been thinking about our previous session. Let’s go back to that. Is that alright with you?”

The thief’s attention was broken from the others’ glares and whispers and back to the short lanky psychiatrist next to him. Kronus shrugged the best he could manage and finally responded to Rung’s query.

“That depends. What do you want to know and why.”

Rung cleared his vocalizer as he tried to come up with the appropriate way to address his patient’s statement.

“Let’s discuss socialization. Have you always been…closed? Were you always unwilling to get close to anyone?”

Kronus stopped mid step startling both Rung and Streamlight who raised his weapon ready to fire on the ‘Con if he indeed tried to move against the psychiatrist. To his relief, and Rung’s, Kronus kept his optics focused ahead as he addressed the doctor.

“In my line of work, doctor, the less you socialize the easier it is to get away.”

Twisting at his waist to look to the orange mech, Kronus let out a snort of disgust.

“Now that’s a loaded question, and I resent it. In fact I got close to a lot of people. How do you think I was able to steal everything they owned?”

Kronus let out a guffaw as he moved on, this time ahead of the other two mechs. Streamlight looked to Rung who in turn offered the young guard a slight nod.

“Streamlight, I believe I can take things from here.”

One more look to the thief and Streamlight headed away from both mechs. With his guard gone Rung believed that his patient would finally loosen up and let him delve into his past. Both he and Kronus needed to discover just where things had gone wrong.

“I understand that you found solace in taking what ultimately was not yours, but what I want to know is did you have support before things spiraled to that level? Was there anyone? A friend perhaps?”

Heaving a heavy sigh, the inmate moved to lean his back against the far wall, facing his doctor.

“Why is this so important? How will telling you that I had a ‘friend’ give you any insight on what happened to me?”

Before Rung could answer Kronus went on.

“Don’t answer that, because I really could care less what you think.” Kronus shook his head as he continued. “ No. You’re not going to get an answer from me because it’s none of your fraggin’ business.”

He let out another sigh as he pushed off the wall and stepped beside Rung.

“Give me time. And maybe, just maybe I’ll let you in.”

Kronus stepped away from the psychiatrist and began to make his way to the opposite side of the yard. Rung could do nothing but observe. From his location while leaning against the wall the thief noticed a mech he recognized, one he thought he’d never see again.

Kronus stopped in front of the large bulky mech. Lumbering and probably considered slow witted, this bot played the part well. Unfortunately for anyone doing any kind of business with him, they found out the hard way that he was not to be trifled with and not as stupid as he looked.

“Brace.”

The mech shot the thief a wide grin.

“Kronus.”

Southern Wing Activity Area

Scowl snickered at Icepick’s comment. “She would make a good recruit, right?” He was merely teasing his teammate. They all knew each other well enough to get away with such things, even if they saw each other infrequently. He was just glad that he wasn’t the unfortunate one stuck in isolation this time. That was usually the worst part, stuck in some small room by himself. They event went to the trouble of soundproofing it. There were times when he’d been stuck in there and thought he’d go mad.

The Monstercon looked at the being in question, a female Autobot, or former Autobot maybe. Not many true Autobots ended up inside of the prison. They were either all Cons, non-affiliated or recently booted from the Bots. Really it was a wonder that they all didn’t kill each other with so many factions represented. Of course the little incident that had just occurred showed that it did sometimes happen, but was ended pretty quickly.

“His problem?” Scowl replied to Umbra. “His problem is he’s stuck here as a guard instead of doing whatever he really wants to do. Its kinda funny when you think about it, they are just as much prisoners here as we are in a way.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Or it could be our infamy proceeds us. Don’t let our height fool you. Ain’t that right Icepick,” he elbowed the other Monstercon while chuckling to himself.

South Wing Activity Area

Passing the Monstercons behind, Steelhand took another scan around for Umbra, only to find her conversing with the same inmates he just went by. He couldn't help but be a little suspicous.

Is she following me now? Just the fact she's talking to them doesn't sound right. Can't keep my optics off her too long....

Making his way out of one of the crowds of inmates, Steelhand let a look of surprise slip out before recollecting his stern look; there, only a couple of breems after nearly killing another inmate, was Kronus.

Casually making his way closer he got a better look at the situation; Rung was with him, probably having a session.

He rips someone's head off and he gets special treatment like he's a victim. What kind of slag is this?

Anyone watching Steelhand wouldn't know the anger brewing within him about this turn of events; outwardly he appeared just as calm and vigilant as ever. Even when the larger inmate, Brace began to talk to the thief he kept his composure, but continued to walk closer to the situation until he made his way to Streamlight.

Already Steelhand and the younger guard had had some disagreements during this activity period. As much as he didn't approve of Streamlight's attitude, he was still a fellow guard, and so far doing his job. Still Steelhand worried about how close and personal the young guard seemed to be getting with Kronus.

"Can you handle this on your own?", Steelhand asked Streamlight, trying not to seem pushy or bossy, "Or would you like some help?"

Warden's Office

Maximus looked down at Rung's response and grinned a little. No, it was something of an atypical response for him, but he was satisfied with it. Kronus would continue to be an interesting prisoner, that much was clear. But both he and the one he had attacked were still functional--as far as he knew--and that was what Max tried to recover from any inmate or staff altercation.

>>Probably a good idea. We'll meet over a drink in the 'Pit though. Not in the mood for a session,<< Maximus typed back. Fortress Maximus didn't frequent the Autobots' informally established lounge and bar area that often, but he would easily take that over Rung's office.

Maximus then returned his full attention to Punch, where the majority of it had been already. This was such a precarious situation. The next time he had a chance to talk with the Autobot commander who was really behind an operation like that, he fully expected some harsh words to be exchanged.

As he stood and listened to Punch reciting every detail of the plan he had mapped out, he couldn't really believe what he was hearing. Apparently, not only had Autobot command thought it wise to send Punch on this quite possibly suicidal mission, but now they wanted him wrapped up in it too? Orchestrating blackouts? Manipulating guard routines?

"I don't know...," Maximus began, anger evident in his voice even as he trailed off, "whether Prowl, Red Alert or someone else in Autobot Command has lost their mind...or you have."

Maximus could feel circuits firing in his body that normally never fired. Not without some significant provocation. This was apparently what it took.

"But if any of you think for one Primus-glitched klik that I am going to take that active a role in this insanity...!"

Maximus slammed a fist down on his desk, crumpling part of it as if it were little more than an aluminum sheet.

"...then you all have sorely misjudged my level of cooperation."

Maximus pressed a guard-call command on the part of his desk terminal that was still functional. He had been briefed on the rough skeleton of this mission and what it would accomplish. No one, however, had told him that he would have to play so active a role in making it successful. From his understanding, he was to be a facilitator, nothing more. An operation that would occur within the boundaries of the facility he had been assigned to oversee, and little else. But this? No. This was too much. Did none of them in the ivory towers of Autobot command understand what this would do to his relationship with the staff if he did this? What it was already going to do? Maximus had already allowed for some sacrifice of his reputation and integrity for the good of the war effort. For the good of getting Scorponok off the damned battlefield. Going all the way, though, as Punch had suggested? Integrity--gone. Trust--gone. Lives would be endangered. Punch's was a given. But inmates too, and certainly his staff.

He wanted to take Punch and just throw him in a cell right now. Only for real. Scrap the mission. This guy might be an ally, but there was the significant possibility that he was just as much a threat as any Decepticon within these walls. He had said as much.

A pair of guards arrived outside the doors to Maximus' office. He slapped a pair of standard energo-restraints on Punch's wrists, per protocol. This would appear to be nothing more than an inmate debriefing with the warden, getting familiar with policies and procedures.

"I want you out. Do what you have to do. I'm going to do the same thing. That's it."

The warden then keyed them in with a quick terminal command.

Wardens Office

Punch's facial expression remained blank. He was taken aback but unsurprised by the lack of cooperation from Fortress Maximus, these regional-based command types were always too busy thinking little, ironic for such a gigantic Autobot. Never mind that a whole faction of the Decepticons could be brought down with minimal co-operation. Never mind that the war took lives by the thousands all over the galaxy every day whilst the warden got to sit in his comfy chair and fill in his reports in his small corner of the universe.

Never mind the sacrifice that the few have to make for the many.

Without a word, and before Maximus could place the cuffs on his wrists, Punch allowed his alter-ego to take control. It was far earlier than expected and he had been led to believe he would get more cooperation from the staff here, but this was usually the way - the hardest part of being a double agent was the transition period between the two sides, at least this will get it out of the way sooner rather than later, Counterpunch dealt with the pressure of the role far better than Punch did.

He felt a massive relief as he transformed into his darker self. His mostly yellow paintjob rotated and converted to a deep navy blue, polished to a shine. His shoulders loosened and he stood up to his full height, he grinned as his disguising blast shield slid into place and his eyes glinted with confidence as the cranial-shell matrix was engaged to relegate the weak Autobot aspect of his personality to the hidden background. The most satisfying part of the transformation however was the reversal of his badge, he knew that Punch still had overall control, even from his matrix-induced prison in the back, but even though they are still both parts of the same Autobot things were more open now, hiding in plain sight as opposed to skulking in the darkness.

Even though Counterpunch was being sent to jail, he felt more free than he had been in the centuries imprisoned inside Punch's head. ...what have I done? Punch lamented, silently what have I unleashed... Counterpunch ignored his lesser self and he revelled in his freedom.

He allowed Maximus to apply the cuffs and glared him in the eye. Counterpunch did not know the meaning of fear and would have struck out at him even though the Warden could have crushed him like a bug, but Punch was in control. Punch had to always be in control. Even so, had he not had a blast shield on, Counterpunch would have spat in the face of the giant commander. Coward... No! He has lives to protect... Ha!, and OURS doesn't count, is that it?! he argued internally with himself as Punch wrestled briefly for control.

He allowed the guards to come in to collect him before putting on the show. He smashed the guard to his right in the temple with his elbow as hard as he could and swung his fists back across in a hay-maker arc into the midsection of the guard on his left but made no attempt to run, he stared down at them and laughed. Before he was restrained again, he looked over his shoulder towards Fortress Maximus and grinned.

"You do what you have to do, Warden, I'll do the same..."

Southern Wing – Activity Area

Rung had Streamlight step away so that he and his patient could have their private discussion, but when Kronus refused to talk, it left Rung at a loss. Kronus had moved on deeper into the yard, leaving the psychiatrist to wonder just what he would have to do to get into the mech’s head.

Seeing that the brief session was now over, Streamlight moved back to stand by Rung. The slight mech was not very intimidating and was sure to become the focal point of one, if not many of the inmates. Rung let loose a heavy sigh when the slightly taller guard arrived.

“Didn’t go so well, huh doc?”

The psychiatrist shook his head as he raised his hand to his temple and gently gave it a rub. His was tireless function, but he would never complain.

“No, it didn’t.”

Rung clamped Streamlight on the shoulder before he made his way toward the exit. On his way he received the response from Maximus concerning his invite to visit the psychiatrist his office. He let out a chuckle at the warden’s alternate suggestion to meet at the local watering hole, The Greasepit. A place Rung hadn’t frequented, but that did not mean he wouldn’t take Maximus up on his offer.

>>”Give me a day and time and I will be there.”<<

A wide smile formed as he closed up his built in terminal. He then proceeded out and back to his office. After all he still had another patient to see.

----

“Well. Long time no see there Kronus.”

Brace let out a hearty laugh as he moved toward the restrained mech. Kronus took a slight step back as a sneer formed on his face, although the hulking inmate could not see it.

“Don’t think I forgot about those shanix you still owe me.”

Brace scoffed. His hand headed for his chestplate in mock pain.

“You wound me, Kronus. In fact I was trying to get what I owed you when I was arrested.”

A frown formed on his face as the thought of his incarceration filled his processor. His unfortunate infraction was not something that could simply be swept under the rug. No, he had to be punished. After all, he was the seller of illegal weapons. Those weapons, up until recently had been supplied by Kronus himself. But when the thief was finally taken into custody, it left Brace with one option, to rely on an unknown supplier. Big mistake.

“You know, after you were arrested, I was ruined. Went with an unknown and that slaggin’ glitch turned on me.”

The smile returned to his face as he looked back down at his former business partner. It was then that he realized Kronus was covered in a series of chains and restraints.

“The slag they got you wrapped up in?” Brace lifted one of the chains with a finger and gave it a light tug. “…these slagheads think this’ll work? Heh!”

Kronus pulled away letting the chain slip from Brace’s finger tips. He did not need one of the guards overhearing, or seeing anything Brace was up to.

“It used to be that way, Brace. This facility, however, is too secure. It’s nothing like the other prisons that I was incarcerated in.”

The two mechs moved to the nearby wall where they took up a position so they could both survey the masses. They both grew quiet, only the sounds of the yard encompassing their audio receptors. Kronus’ thoughts wandered, there was a possible way but cooperation had to be acquired. A few moments passed before Kronus finally addressed the larger mech.

“I want you to make contact with your comrades on the outside.”

Brace flashed the thief a confused look. Pushing off the wall slightly the hulking mech responded to the order.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because, I’m going to get out of here and if you do as you’re told maybe I’ll consider taking you with me.”

----

Streamlight watched Rung leave the yard and let out a dejected sigh. The doctor was definitely trying, but Kronus was not very cooperative. Maybe, since he had a better relationship with the thief he could find out just what Rung was looking for.

His musings were interrupted when Steelhand stepped up beside him and asked if he was able to handle things on his own, or if he needed help. Both queries were taken in by Streamlight as somewhat degrading. Did he think that since he was one of the senior guards he could make him look foolish?

Gritting his teeth and balling his hands into tight fists, Streamlight spun to face Steelhand, a deep frown etched on his face.

“Just what makes you think I need help? I’m just as capable of handling Kronus as you are with your assigned prisoners. So, no, I don’t need your help. And even if I did need assistance, you’d be the last mech I’d contact. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an inmate to look after, sir!”

Streamlight turned on his heel and stalked off, disappearing into the assembled prisoners. The frown on his face melted into a somewhat disheartened expression. He only hoped Steelhand would not hold what he had said against him.

South Wing Activity Area

Steelhand kept a calm demeanor as Streamlight blasted the senior guard for his offer. Though the younger guard's lack of emotional control worried him, he had meant no disrespect. If anything he had asked out of respect for Streamlight and his assigned duties; Steelhand would never intervene in another guard's assignment unless things had gotten out of hand.

Before Steelhand could say anything Streamlight had already left in a huff, and caught the senior guard by surprise with one word; sir.

Despite being a senior guard, the truth was that Steelhand held practically the same rank as Streamlight and most of the other guards. He wasn't an officer, he had no real authority over all the other guards. Though most came to him for help and advice with their assignments, all he really had over them was more experience. It wasn't the first time that he had been refered to as "sir" by one of the younger guards, but it was rare and it was something he never felt comfortable with; Streamlight's obvious contempt toward Steelhand only made it even stranger to his audio receptors.

The other miners used to talk to the bosses like that. Maybe I've been a little hard on him. I should buy him a drink later, maybe have a friendly talk with him to air things out.

For now it seemed that no help was wanted or needed in watching Kronus and keeping Rung safe. Steelhand turned around, and walked back the way he came toward Umbra and the Monstercons.

Warden's Office

More guards that had already been doing other things in the area had seen the commotion going on near the entrance to the warden's office. They carried out their training to the letter and quickly enough Counterpunch had been suitably restrained and was now being lead off to be introduced to the new cell that would be his home for the foreseeable future.

"Another fun one, huh?" a guard, Rocktread, said as he looked up at the warden and followed after the other guards and their newest inmate. Maximus' stoic expression stayed firmly in place this time.

The large Autobot closed his office up behind him and walked down the corridor behind the group for a few paces before deviating off in another direction.

>>"I have time now, if you do,"<< Maximus transmitted back to Rung, now able to speak freely.
___

Southern Wing Activity Area

"So, so true," Icepick chuckled, agreeing with Scowl as they sized up this new 'Umbra' mech.

"If they had listened to Megatron's field speeches back in the waning days of the Golden Age, maybe they'd be living their dreams on the field of battle rather than being stuck here."

Icepick, like many Cybertronians, had found himself incredibly inspired by the gladiator as he had risen up out of the harsh caste system that existed back then and had become something far greater. Icepick, too, had become a part of something far greater--both literally and figuratively. He just never found the opportunity to exercise either anymore.

"What interests you with the guards, mm?" Icepick said, pleased that such a striking femme was bothering to speak with them at all. "Figuring out which ones will be most susceptible to your curves?"

South Wing Activity Area

Umbra considered Scowl's reply. She hadn't been here long, but she could feel the oppressive atmosphere. Nice to know it doesn't fade with time, she thought wryly. She regarded the Monstercons. They were a team then. One that had something of a reputation. Umbra held back a sigh. She wished she knew more. Her attention turned to Icepick's comment and she glanced around briefly, looking for guards. She caught a glimpse of Steelhand moving her way, but she decided to ignore it. After all, she was just talking. She had nothing to hide or fear.


"What interests you with the guards, mm?" Icepick said. "Figuring out which ones will be most susceptible to your curves?"

Umbra looked at Icepick and laughed. "Heh, now that's an idea. But, no. That guard chewed me out earlier. Do you know his name?"

Umbra was slowly growing more comfortable with her new position as a prisoner. Every prisoner here was dangerous. This included her as well whether she considered herself dangerous or not. It was certainly different, thinking this way, but it was necessary too.

"Oh," Umbra began before Icepick could reply, "I'm Umbra, by the way."

Rung’s Office

It hadn’t taken him long to get back to his corner office sanctuary, he even took his time. The door slid open after he entered his access code and quickly closed behind him once he passed the threshold. Unfortunately, his next appointment had to be cancelled due to an unforeseen circumstance. His patient’s guard hadn’t elaborated, but Rung could guess just what had happened.

The Autobot psychiatrist had thought something like this would happen. Fortunately Rung was able to distance himself from his patients enough to remain impartial when thing went awry. Rung strolled to the shelves that lined the far wall of his office and stopped before them.

Reaching up the slight mech took hold of one of the model space ships he collected. It was one of his favorites, the Ark – 22. The last he had heard was that Optimus Prime had taken the ship to Earth in order to reinforce the infiltration team that was already established there. He could only hope that everything was alright, both on Earth and with the infiltration team.

Rung let out a low sigh as he examined the model, turning it around slowly in his hands. He was in a trance-like state when the monitor on his desk gave off a gentle beep notifying him of an incoming message.

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, the mech replaced the ship back on to its shelf and made his way to his desk. He noticed the message was from Maximus. A smile grew on his face when he read it. The warden seemed to have been serious when he mentioned he would contact him when he wanted to talk. He had to admit; every time he had extended the invitation, Maximus had always declined. Whatever had changed his mind was obviously grading on the large mech.

Not wanting to keep the warden waiting on a response, Rung quickly gave him answer.

>>”I always have time, Maximus. I will meet you in the Grease Pit in a few breems.”<<

After his communique was sent, Rung made his way to his door. Once outside he locked the door and made his way down the corridor and on toward his destination.

Southern Wing – Activity Area

While making his way through the tightly packed bodies of the inmates, Streamlight had begun to calm down. The young mech shook his head in abject frustration. Maybe I should have been more professional. Aw slag, I should have been able to keep my cool. He thought about heading back to Steelhand in order to apologize to the senior guard. But what if he didn’t want to accept his attempt at making amends?

He let out a light sigh as he stopped amongst the small group of inmates he had found himself near. Carefully, the guard looked over his shoulder and spotted Steelhand moving toward two of the Monstercons and one of the femmes. It was now or never. Streamlight turned fully and headed back to the older mech. He had to make things right.
____

“You’re going to get out of here, eh? And just how do you intend to do that?” Brace waved his hand around indicating the whole of the activity area before he continued.

“In case you haven’t noticed, dear Kronus, this slaghole is streaming with fraggin’ guards who happen to be all too eager to blast any one of our heads off. Yours especially. Ha!”

Kronus, still leaning against the wall, turned his head so he could stare at his former contact. His optics narrowed in to mere slits, only a modicum amount of blood red light escaping. Brace leaned away from his old acquaintance giving him an incredulous look.

“I told you. I need you to get in touch with your contacts on the outside. After they get me what I need you can leave the rest to me.”

Brace broke off his optic contact and returned to taking in the rest of the activity area. The bulky mech shook his head slightly before he finally spoke.

“And what if I told you I don’t have any contacts on the outside. What then?”

“Then I’d know you were lying. You forget, Brace, I know you. I know you probably better than you even know yourself.”

Kronus finally turned his attention back to the masses; in particular, he was looking for his young guard. He did not need Streamlight showing up while he and his “old friend” were scheming. He relaxed a bit once he caught sight of him.

“Heh. You certainly do know me. Alright. But tell me, how do I make contact? I’m in here and the guards do very thorough searches of both inmates and their cells. How do I get word out with those obstacles in place?”

“Oh, please, Brace. Don’t give me any of your spit laden slag. I know you have most of these guards on your own personal payroll. Any one of them would be more than willing to do your dirty work for you; for a price. And we both know you’re capable of anything, once you put your mind to it.”

Brace flashed Kronus a smug smirk. The thief was right. He was always right. A few minutes passed while the two mechs surveyed the area, each one noting where the guards were located at any given moment.

“Alright, Kronus. You win. I’ll talk with one of my guys in here. He’ll contact one of my colleagues on the outside. At that point you’ll have to tell me exactly what you want from my associate.”

Kronus remained silent; his only acknowledgement was a slight nod.

“I am keeping you to your word, Brace.”

The thief finally turned his head, the same blood red optics were now boring in to the other mech’s frame.

“Remember, even in here you’re not safe. Not even from me.”

Had he been able to, Brace would have swallowed hard. Kronus had always followed through on his threats. The results were never pretty.

“Point taken.”

Southern Wing Activity Area

Icepick thought for a moment, trying to remember who all Umbra had been interacting with. Honestly, he had been so focused on her that he hadn't really paid all that much attention.

"Hmm, Steelhand maybe? Wouldn't surprise me. He's one of the warden's senior guys. He runs a tight unit when he's on deck, but he's fair. At least from what I've seen. He's always been careful about following the policy of keeping one of us in full isolation at all times. Can't say the same for all of his colleagues. A couple of them have almost forgot. Heh."

He then smiled pleasantly as the femme offered up an introduction. How refreshing.

"Umbra? Umbra. Lovely designation. I'm Icepick. This here is Scowl. Our de facto leader, Slog, is just over there," Icepick said, indicating a mech that appeared to be keeping entirely to himself. Many of the other inmates seemed perfectly keen on allowing him to do just that. "He's a bit of a loner. Wonderful artist though. Not something one usually finds in the ranks of the Decepticons. Just goes to show how diverse we are, I suppose."

Icepick keyed on the small Autobot insignia that the femme wore.

"Curious," he said, pointing at the sigil. "I don't recognize you from the war effort. But ... I have been locked in here a long time. I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised."

South Wing Activity Area

Just keep everyone in line, make the rest of the activity period run smoothly.

Another pass through the inmates, no problems. Steelhand wished this had been the case since the activity period started, but what was done was done.

Every so often when he passed by the area of the earlier incident with Kronus, or when he looked over at the thief, he remembered that inmate's neck being ripped apart. Each time Steelhand tried to shake it off and ignore it, but it wasn't easy. He hadn't seen such a violent act since his days as a gladiator, which itself was a long list of memories he prefered to ignore and pretend never happened.

Just forget it already, it happened, it's done. Can't afford to get queesy now.

Steelhand's turned as he thought his audio sensors picked up someone saying his name. He looked- he noticed Umbra, still with two of the Monstercons, and at least one of them was looking at him.

Now what?

For now they were just talking, but still. Between her suspicous behaviour earlier, and just the fact that it was the Monstercons- of course it gave Steelhand concern. He turned around to make another pass through them- but this time he would be more attentive to the group.

As he turned around, he noticed Streamlight walking toward him. To Steelhand's relief the young guard didn't have the same hellbent look in his eyes that he did only a breem ago. Hopefully the young mech had cooled his circuits and just looking for some assistance.

"Everything okay?", Steelhand plainly asked.

Southern Wing Activity Area

Umbra took a moment to log the designation Steelhand into her processors. If she encountered the senior guard again, she would use the designation to see how the guard would react. Speaking of the guard, she noticed him making his rounds nearby. Probably still suspicious. Not that she could blame him.

Umbra would have proceeded to berate herself for her idiocy if Icepick hadn't deigned to reciprocate introductions. A smile touched Umbra's faceplate. "It's a pleasure, Icepick." She gazed curiously over to Slog at the mention of him being an artist as well as the leader of the group. "An artist? Really? That's curious. I wouldn't mind seeing his work sometime."

"Hm?" Reflexively, Umbra looked down to see where Icepick was pointing. Umbra looked away from the emblem on her chest plate and back up to Icepick with a chuckle. "Well...I've kind of been indisposed for a long time. Probably longer than you have been here. So, it stands to reason that we've probably never even met. I only wish I wasn't so...in the dark."

Icepick was fairly amiable for a Decepticon. Not something Umbra would have anticipated a few breems ago. The viewpoint of a prisoner had shed some new insight onto the black and white that seemed to make up their war. Things were more gray than anyone wanted to believe. It was so much simpler when everything was that way.

When things weren't black and white, it cast everything in the shadow of doubt. Umbra had learned this the hard way.

Cell Block

Having made his point to Fort Max and dog-piled by a group of guards, Counterpunch was dragged to a cell and thrown in. Half concious, he snarled at the last guard to leave and took in his surroundings. Bare walls and little else greeted him, but he had been stationed in worse, let alone imprisoned. Nice place, too bad I cant stick around and get out of this damned war. Although this wasn't the high security wing as he had expected, he still knew the layout of this part of the prison perfectly, and was in a pretty good position to see who was coming and going.

For now though, he laid back on the bench and relaxed whilst his internal healing systems fixed the minor damage he sustained en-route to his cell. This was not the first time Counterpunch had been in prison, although it was the first time it had been planned, but he doubted many of the inmates knew him here. His double life meant he wasn't that well known among the Decepticons, although his cover as a thief and smuggler was useful to explain these disappearances away.

Counterpunch planned on enjoying himself here, no security briefings, no 'secret' errands to run, no Punch ruining all the fun... Prowl and Red Alert would have to wait a loooong time before he had anything he needed up update them with.

Tomorrow he would check out the activity area and see who else was here. He knew most of the files, but there were new inmates arriving all the time and meeting the people was going to be interesting, he would need to know who the fixer was in this joint and who ran it from the inside, although he had a hunch he knew who that would be.

Now he just had to find them.

The Greasepit--Garrus-9 North

Trekking from the southern wing where the inmate activity area was all the way to the northern quadrant of the penitentiary where the staff barracks, commissary, and general lounge and multi-purpose areas were was normally not something that Fortress Maximus did until the end of his shift. Given his position, he was technically always on duty, either supervising the prison or the Steelhaven, but he was fortunate to have a competent deputy warden and an executive officer to take over the responsibilities of each when he signed off for the solar cycle. He hoped they were each getting a sufficient recharge. The deputy warden, in particular, would have their hands full when they signed on.

Maximus would get the occasional nods from staff and even from some of the inmates who were housed in other areas of the prison. Once he had passed through the various security clearance doors and in to the less-secure and informal living areas, the reception he received was even more jovial. One of his officers asked if he was going to make it to the game of High Ace later that evening. Another wondered when he was going to get that meal Max owed him for covering double duty a few times. The large Autobot had assured both they he would make time in the next few orns. They had grinned and nodded, knowing that Maximus was good on his word even when it came to the little things.

"INMATE ACTIVITY PERIOD ENDING IN ONE BREEM. ALL PARTICIPATING INMATES ARE TO LINE UP FOR CHECK-IN AND RETURN TO THEIR CELLS," the voice over the prison's public address-system sounded.

Max approached the faux-rust covered iron doors that signaled the entrance to one of the more popular energizing holes in the Elba system. Maximus grinned every time he saw them. It was clear that the proprietor was trying a little too hard to make the place look like it had existed since the days of Maccadam. Oh well, it didn't really matter. The energon quality was good. That's what kept everyone coming back.

As Maximus approached, the doors themselves seemed to transform and adjust to the height of the entrant. Maximus was always a special case, in that regard. Stepping through the threshold, he found himself greeted by an assortment of different staff and crew members--nodding or raising their containers of energon slightly in acknowledgment.

"Well, well, well...and to what do I owe this honor?" Goldrush said, standing idly behind the counter, polishing one of the containers with a piece of velvet. "You almost destroyed my archway again....sir."

Maximus looked down at the proprietor with a smirk. "I see you've brought the place up to code like I asked."

"I live to serve," Goldrush said, offering the warden a mock-bow. "Your usual?" Maximus nodded and Goldrush went about retrieving a large cylinder of the premium-grade energon. Minimal "fillers". As Goldrush slid him the container, the warden slid some chits across the counter. "Not going to answer my question, eh?"

"What?" Maximus asked, taking in his first swig of energon. "Oh. Nothing special. Just decompressing."

"Aha," Goldrush said, clearly not fully believing the senior Autobot. "You sure you don't want me to spike that with anything? I just finished refining some new additives I picked up from the mines a few breems ago. Mighty tasty."

"Next time," Max said, taking another drink.

"Fair enough."

The Greasepit - Garrus – 9 North

From his office down to the Greasepit took a lot longer for Rung than larger mechs whose stride took them to their locations in half the time. But the fact that he would arrive casually late didn’t deter him from taking his time. After all this was not a scheduled meeting and he did not want Maximus to feel as if it were.

Rung stopped before the large doors his neck almost straining to focus up to the top of them. It had been some time since he had been in this establishment. The last time had not been a very welcome experience. Even with most of the patrons being Autobots that did not mean they were always on their best behavior. A few orns prior Rung had made his way to the Pit on an invitation; however it had nothing to do with seeing a patient. He had just received a mug of energon and turned from the counter when he accidently walked in to one of the more volatile guards spilling not only his own drink but also the guard’s.

Before he even got the chance to apologize the guard took hold of Rung by the neck and sent him sprawling on to a table with a hard punch to the face. He woke up some time later in the medical bay with a cracked cheekplate, a bloodied lip and a shattered optic sensor.

Rung let out a low sigh before he entered the bar. He really had little to fear as the guard who had attacked him had been reprimanded and sent to another prison facility. Once beyond the threshold the psychiatrist took a cursory glance around the room before he caught sight of the mech he arranged to meet.

A small smile made its way to his face before he arrived at the bar where Maximus was perched. He gave a nod to Goldrush and moved up to the counter.

“Goldrush. It’s good to see you.”

From the bartender and proprietor Rung took a sideways glance at the warden. There was no need to announce to everyone present that he was there to listen to Maximus’ tribulations. Instead he would leave the initiation up to the larger mech.

“Warden. I’m glad to see you’re taking some time to unwind. I understand the stress of anyone in your position could use quite a bit of down time, no?”
____

Southern Wing – Activity Area

Streamlight had taken his time in approaching Steelhand. Their prior meeting had not gone so well and it had been all his doing. He tended to take things to heart, and therefore overreacted on many things. It was a wonder that he was able to keep his cool around the inmates.

The young mech stopped in front of the senior guard and offered Steelhand an awkward smile. He raised his hand to the back of his head as he tried to address the other guard.

“No. Everything’s not okay. I, I wanted to apologize for that outburst earlier. I was angry, but I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.”

Streamlight extended his hand hoping that Steelhand would accept his apology.

“I hope you can forgive me.”
____

Kronus kept his optics glued on Brace before he let out a guffaw. The look that crossed Brace’s face was priceless. He was always glad that the false information he had passed around was still paying off. A low growl escaped the arms dealer’s vocalizer as he finally realized that he was obviously made the butt of a joke.

“What the slag is so funny?!”

“Well, let me ask you a question first. How is it you believe everything you hear?”

Brace’s head tilted as he took in Kronus’ features. It took a moment before he realized what the thief was getting at.

“You fragged up slagger. You got the word out yourself that you had a volatile reputation.”

“And most everyone falls for it. When they do it keeps my angry marks off my back. I mean look at me. Do you honestly think I’d have any friends in here to depend on? That’s why I need you. You have the contacts I need, both inside and out.”

Brace shook his head at the thought of being made a fool of, but he had to admit the reputation that Kronus had created for himself was a good one.

“Heh. You’re fragged up you know that? But I’ll use my channels. You were right when you mentioned my contacts in here. There are two guards that I can trust to get the word out. I’ll let them know who you are and where you’re being held.”

“Who are they?”

“Drudge and Downfall. Downfall has made his way up the ranks and is in very good graces with the Warden. Drudge was just promoted to security. And they’re both on my payroll.”

The larger mech flashed Kronus a smug smile before he looked up. The announcement from the PA system had caught not only Brace’s attention but the thief’s and most of the inmates’ as well. It seemed that their time was over.

“I suppose the rest of this discussion will have to wait until tomorrow. I will speak with Downfall and Drudge in the meantime. They will be made aware of your impending plans and they will make contact with my men on the outside.”

“Perfect. Until tomorrow, Brace.”


The stern expression and the stiff nod from Brace ended the duo’s conversation. The larger mech pushed off the wall and left Kronus’ side. It wouldn’t be long before all of the other inmates were lined up single file and herded back to their cell blocks and ultimately to their cells. Kronus was an exception. He wouldn’t be lining up with anyone. Instead he would be escorted back to his cell by Streamlight for yet another evening of lonesome contemplation.

South Wing Activity Area

The senior guard felt a little odd as Streamlight nervously apologized for his previous behavour. It wasn't so much the apology itself, but more that he had chosed to apologize while they were still watching over the inmates. Steelhand's first thought was to repeat his "not here" response from earlier, but that would probably just upset the young guard further. He looked around to see if any of the inmates were watching. For a moment he looked Streamlight in the face and gave a genuine smile as he grabbed the younger guard's hand and gave a firm shake.

"I accept that.", Steelhand simply replied.

A loud voice then came over the public address system- the activity period was over.

Finally.

Steelhand let go, and the stern look on his face returned as he had to finish his job.

"I've got some free time after this, thought I'd go to the Greasepit for a drink. You're welcome to join me.", Steelhand offered before he went back to his duties.

Most of the inmates started to form the line, but of course there were always stragglers who wanted to squeeze out every extra astrosecond they could get away from their cells. Steelhand made his way back to the group he was heading for, and he pointed out Umbra, Icepick and Scowl.

"You heard the voice, activity period's over! Fall into line for check-in!", the senior guard ordered.

Southern Wing Activity Area

Scowl was happy to remain quiet as Icepick and Umbra talked. He had grown accustomed to just listening to others since his voice had been muffled. If his voice were at his normal levels then he would probably never shut up. It had been so long since he could really cut loose, he couldn’t even remember what he really sounded like. Until then talking almost felt like a tease, just an echo of what he was able to do once. Still, even if it was an echo it was nice to hear from time to time.

“I doubt you’ve been out of action longer then we have,” Scowl replied to Umbra. “Did you know, they practically built this place around us.” He chuckled and offered her a smile.

Before they could continue they were interrupted by Steelhand yelling at them. “We better hurry, wouldn’t want him to blow a circuit yelling at us, although yelling is one of the guards’ favorite things to do. If my powers weren’t dampened, then I’d show them what real yelling is like.”

*

From one of the corners of the yard a long Decepticon watched as the various prisoners walked and talked and socialized. She had never been much for mingling with others. She had determined a long time ago that she operated best by herself, no partners or teammates getting in the way or letting her down. A hunter worked best when unencumbered, and that’s just what teammates were, an encumbrance. That had led her to her current isolation, that and the face that the majority of the other prisoners weren’t particularly worth talking to. That is until she saw Umbra.

Airachnid moved out of her dark corner to join the others in line. She made sure to purposefully bump into the female Autobot. She turned to her, a smile forming on her face. “Umbra? What a surprise to see you here. I wonder what got you stuck in this hole.” She leaned down to look her right in the optics. “Pity we didn’t bump into each other sooner, but I’m sure there will be time to get reacquainted and catch up on old times soon.” She patted the Autobot lightly on the shoulder, letting her hand lingering long enough to be uncomfortable before pulling away and walking off with the others toward their cells. The hunt was on again and Airachnid felt more alive then she had since being thrown into the Garrus prison.