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Garrus-9 -- Southern Wing, Cell Blocks

Like his Terrorcon brethren since the start of the assault on Garrus-9, Rippersnapper had unleashed his full fury on any unsuspecting Autobots that he came into contact with. After he had aided in destroying the Command Center of the prison, the terrorist had moved deeper into the bowels of the facility, blasting away at the numerous guards that stood in his way. Whether it was with his cyclone gun or his flamethrower, Rippersnapper enjoyed the death and destruction that he caused in his wake.

Unlike his Terrorcon brethren, however, Rippersnapper remained in robot mode for the majority of his rampage, only assuming his shark monster form when he was literally on top of an injured Autobot that was unable to escape quickly. The terrorist’s amphibious mode did not function as well outside of a watery or wet environment, but that didn’t stop him from feasting on the remains of his very own handy work. He enjoyed the fruits of his labor just as much as the other Terrorcons and he wasn’t about to let a slow alt mode deprive him of having his fair share of energon-thirsty fun.

Things got even more interesting, though, when Cutthroat went absolutely insane and began attacking everyone in sight, even his fellow Decepticons as well as one of the Monstercons they were there to liberate from the prison. Hun-grrr, of course, would have none of that, and began slamming Cutthroat repeatedly into the floor before tossing him across the corridor in a heap. The enraged Terrorcon Commander then ordered his squad to feast upon the paralyzed vulture beast with the desire to keep Cutthroat’s pain sensors active so he could feel all of the agony that would accompany the cannibalism to follow.

Rippersnapper looked over at his unit leader and revealed a delicious smile before transforming into his shark monster alternate mode once again. The aquatic beast approached the injured Cutthroat and immediately bit down into one of his legs, ripping metal plating from the framework like he was just another Autobot being added to the slaughter. The terrorist didn’t care who it was he ate, just as long as said mech tasted good. And, surprisingly so, Cutthroat’s metallic flesh satisfied Rippersnapper’s palate quite nicely.

After almost a breem of eating his own comrade, Rippersnapper suddenly stopped at the sound of Hun-grrr’s bellowing vocals ordering them to halt their feast. With bits of shredded metal hanging from between his razor-sharp teeth and energon running down his chest plate, the former actor bowed in compliance as he backed away from the vulture-former. Apparently, Cutthroat had fallen unconscious, which meant that he no longer was feeling the pain of being devoured by his teammates. The Terrorcon Commander would have none of that, either, and ordered them to wake the slagger up so that he could continue to feel his punishment.

“No problem, boss,” Rippersnapper replied to Hun-grrr with a growl as he moved over next to the shock trooper’s cranial unit. “Wake up, you crazy fragger!” The shark monster yelled at Cutthroat, giving his comrade several swift kicks to the head in the hopes it would wake him up so that the feast could continue. Rippersnapper was still hungry and he wanted to finish his meal sooner rather than later.

Garrus -9 Southern wing

The prison corridors showed evidence of recent combat indentations from ballistic weapons further along there where scorch marks from laser weaponry. The ceiling had been partially brought down by explosives possibly micro missiles or survey charges. The Seacons resident demolitions expert cast his optic over the damage as he strode forward his weapon aimed into the depths of the gloom. Thou the gloom was like daylight to the sea based decepticon the depths at 2 kilometres down was nil so this twilight was easy to navigate. Tenakill had left his teammates with the Terrorcons and the other shenanigans that was going on his locator beacon was still on signalling where he was in the prison.

Something caught his audio receptor a skittering sound like gravel being thrown across the floor. It was followed by several thumps. A diaclone leapt into view Tentakill lowered his gun but something further down was catching his attention two blocky forms moving into view one black and tan in colour the other was yellow and red in colour with wings the Seacon accessed the databanks. On his optic HUD the information came up Slog and Wildfly more Monstercons.

“Hey you pair over here”

Tentakill kept his optic on the diaclone after the chaos caused by its master earlier he didn’t need them creating any more. Opening a comm channel Tenakill contacted Snaptrap and hoped finding two more monstercons would please his leader.

>>Snaptrap two more Monstercons in view looks like a diaclone is playing guide to them orders?<<

Semper Tyrannis - Bridge

“Barnacle … butt?” Finback rasped from navigational control, his tone somewhere between offended and outright disbelieving. He’d been mainly occupied with monitoring the fleet, coordinating the medical engineers Scorponok had ordered planetside as they deployed from their respective battlegroups. But he’d still been faintly distracted by the chatter in the bridge, and that particular comment managed to seize his full attention. He turned his modified CR-apparatus in the direction of Reflector. “I couldn’t have heard that right.”

He wasn’t sure exactly what kind of response the Autobot had intended to provoke, either; it was less insulting than bewildering. Who did they think was in charge up here? Some half-formatted protoform away from its batch-mates for the first time? Finback had served in the Decepticon military continuously for millions of years! He was a veteran of more battles than most seasoned soldiers could name, much less actually claim to have fought in! And this … name-calling was supposed to reduce him to what, exactly? Because mostly he just felt perplexed. Though he supposed the transparency of the tactic was a little annoying.

“Spyglass, mind the periphery of the system for Autobot contacts,” he gurgled. “I’m going to exercise a little acting-captain’s prerogative.” Finback enabled two-way communication with the brig, causing what was left of the ancient mariner’s face to appear on several of the monitor’s positioned outside the cells. Fortunately, it was largely obscured by the glass of his support system and the semi-transparent suspension in which the millions of nano-machines working to keep him intact labored.

“Firing off shots in the dark was always your style, Scattershot,” he chuckled hoarsely. “Seems you got lucky this time. You want something in particular? Or are petty insults just the last bit of ammunition in your arsenal, and you feel duty-bound to expend them before you finally give up and face the reality of your situation?”

Garrus-9 - Power Station

Existence itself had become an haze to Soul Siren as she lay against the wall she had struck. There was no pain from the savage blow shew had been dealt. Not anymore. Her pain sensors had been overloaded and shorted out. Her internal systems had been shattered to the point of allowing any sort of movement. Without the ability to feel or move she felt like she was no longer a part of reality.

Her ability to think rationally rapidly faded as not enough energy reached her cranial unit. As her mind faded to a fevered delirium the thought crawled into her mind that she had cried out. She had disgraced the symbol she proudly wore by letting the Autobots listen to her scream. She was skilled enough that she could reroute energy into her communications system so that she could send out a message to Scorponok.

"So *zrtz* sorry... did *zrtz* not... mean... to... scr...*ztrz*"

Soul Siren faded closer and closer to oblivion as she desperately needed the energy she was diverting. Whether it be through delirium or devotion her life was secondary in importance to demonstrating to Scorponok just how sorry she was that she had disappointed him. As much as she pushed, however, her body could not keep up with the effort necessary. She could not properly put the words together.

Garrus-9 - Southern Wing, Cell Blocks

The return of consciousness brought immediate pain to Cutthroat. Through that pain he understood completely what was happening. As a devoted student of the most vile violence possible he only too quickly recognized what was happening to him. What was only before an instinctual sound soon grew into full laughter.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" He laughed as he lashed out with his remaining strength against his fellow Terrorcons. He would never win but he would make the others earn their meal. He would be tormented, yet, somehow, that realization and the great pain that came with it was a source of great comedy to him.

Semper Tyrannis - Brig

Brainstorm had intervened after her spiel, hoping to keep the Technobot commander from inciting a more violent response from the little orange and black femme. Her temper did eventually cool, having sufficiently pushed her point well enough. She glanced away from Scattershot and toward Lightspeed, nodding her thanks for the brief overview of events. Sitting back down, Firewire added it to her raw databanks to be sorted out into her network and analyzed later.

The analyst glanced over some reports from the field ala Kickback. Something about...Bludgeon. She would review it in greater depth later. Also another update about the target inmates. They were being located. Good, good. Things were going smoothly then! Firewire glanced up from her data pad and cocked her head to the side curiously as she watched Brainstorm scribbling something on the wall. Nonsensical numbers and such scribbles...still. It could prove valuable. Even if it was code for something, it was not the best idea to be writing things on the walls. They did have cameras in here after all.

"Erm...Brainstorm. Maybe you shouldn't really be doing that? I'm not complaining or anything, but maybe that's not the best idea," commented Firewire.

She was about to say more when one of the Technobots burst out into a fit of insanity, having seemingly completely lost his mind. The diminutive femme looked at Strafe with surprised as he brought up his hands as if to fire off a weapon at her. Finding that he had none, he cried out again and curled up, rolling to face away from her and everyone else within the cell. Firewire looked on bewildered by the sudden outburst. She felt a tug of concern for the Technobot in her spark.

Firewire reminded herself that if there wasn't anything to keep herself and any one of these Autobots separated, they would not hesitate to end her right then and there. Concern mitigated to levels that would prevent her from doing anything rash, Firewire still looked on at Strafe with concern even as Lightspeed rushed over to tend to his comrade. "Hey-"

"You're right, I meant exactly what I said before. You're as defective as your commanders above you. Don't give me that aft wash about wanting to destroy a home world either, your leaders knew exactly what the scrap they were doing."

Oi, what I'd give to slag this guy right now... Firewire thought irately. "So did your leaders..." Firewire grumbled out, having had enough of that particular argument with the Technobot commander. Additional insults were thrown out at her, but Firewire had settled on ignoring Scattershot. Of course, that was abruptly and suddenly made difficult when she heard the most peculiar of insults.

"Barnacle...?" Firewire shook her head. Back to ignoring him. She wasn't sure who exactly the Technobot commander had been addressing because she had not cast him a glance. She honestly had ceased to care. These Autobots...Sure they had some valid points, but none that Firewire agreed with, and she supposed that was the crux of the matter. Differing morals. Viewpoints. There would be no end to this schism. Too much hate on either side. They were too different. There was never going to be peace...

"Zeta Prime was not the only alternative!"

Firewire's cranial unit swiveled around to look at Pointblank as he suddenly burst out into speech as well. The Autobot approached the force field barrier, moving closer to Firewire.

"'Peace through tyranny'? Really? Megatron's no alternative to that! That was Zeta Prime's philosophy before Megatron even put any words to it. Remember the archives of the Vamparc Ribbon? Optimus Prime is the alternative! And even if you don't think 'another Prime' is the answer, there has to be a better way besides what Megatron and Zeta offer the world. The universe. I....I....I've never seen a race of beings so hellbent on hastening its own extinction. There.....there has to be a better way..."

Before Firewire could say anything to address him, the crusty hoarse tones of Finback responded to Scattershot's earlier insult. The petite femme looked up with surprise at the acting-captain, apparently having attracted his attention to her little Q and A session on the brig. She felt a little bashful at that. Deciding to let Finback and Scattershot have it out as they would, Firewire moved over to the portion of the energy field where Pointblank stood.

The tiny analyst looked up at him curiously. The end of his train of thought had been almost...pleading. Like there was something in him that could break. Though to be fair, these Autobots' circumstances really couldn't be more dire. They were prisoners of war. They could be executed on a whim from high command. Firewire had no desire for them to perish. She had actually enjoyed speaking with them. She would do what she could to stave off an execution.

"Zeta Prime did not want peace through tyranny. Zeta Prime was a monster consumed by power who didn't care if he extinguished the sparks of millions to kill anyone who resisted him. His own citizens. His own people. Is it any wonder the Decepticons don't trust Primes? The end result was either death or an existence of subservience. Not peace."

"None of us want extinction..." Firewire muttered quietly, "I...I wish there were a better way..." The analyst ruminated on the variations of Decepticons within their ranks. Many were soldiers. Many were insane or sadistic or disturbed. In the end, some of them might have to be put down. But the end still wasn't in sight and it had been four million years. Something...something had to change.

Semper Tyrannis -brig

Pain, internal injuries partially repaired by self repair systems he must still be alive slowly his optics came back online. From where he had slumped he could see the cell Brainstorm was at the cell wall scribbling away writing what Afterburner assumed where formula’s. He’d thought he’d heard yelling as he reactivated one of the voices was definitely Scattershot the other was a femme’s voice. That intrigued Afterburner, the gunner raised himself from the floor his servo’s ground loudly he winced as he stood to full height.

“Hey Brainy how’s being a cell mate treating ya”

Afterburner continued past the biomechanical engineer towards where his commanding officer Scattershot was standing as he looked at the decepticon stood outside the energon bars looking like she’d chewed on a spiked energon cube.

“Hey boss you yelling for more energon, who’s the pencil necked femme? She looks like she’s just chewed on a live power wire”

Garrus-9--Southern Wing

Stormwrecker stood in contemplative silence for a moment. It wasn't like he was worried about the odds. It's not like the Decepticons were coming here to get him. He didn't have one of those blaring, red Autobot badges anywhere on his chassis. He hadn't been in any danger of being executed by the marauding Decepticon forces. Once it became known what he had been doing with Vroom these past few breems, though he sure as slag would be. What in the Pit was he doing?!?

The former arms dealer really didn't like the position he had put himself into and he had no one to blame but himself and no rational explanation for why he was even doing it. Wasn't that just slagging great.

Oh well, then.

"Yeh, alright," Stormwrecker said, following after Vroom as they headed back down the corridors away from Overlord and towards the cell blocks. "Gonna need to find one of those auxiliary corridors though. We don't need to walk into a mess of Terrorcons."

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing

“But why—ohhh," he said, the realization quickly hitting him. “I suppose that makes a good deal of sense. Though if that’s the true reason, I suppose I should warn you—our company is going to be parted, one way or the other. Forgive me…forgive me for whatever it is I might be forced to do to you. Or anyone else in our vicinity."

"Parted...? Forgive...forced to...?" Umbra echoed with an extraordinarily perplexed look on her faceplate. "Icepick..." Despite Icepick's foreboding tone of warning, the agent lingered at his side, craning her head around as she heard Bludgeon speak softly. His words were hard to hear over the demented cackling of one of the Terrorcons and another's angry roars, but she did manage to catch the name.

"Monstructor."

Umbra...had heard...that name before. Her optics trailed down to the floor and to the side as she struggled to look back...back before the war. She tended to hesitate to do this. It often only brought about intense regret over her actions. Monstructor....Monstructor...The name went back to the earliest days of her creation when she had been constructed cold. Hushed whispers and fearful looks.

The femme shook her head. She remembered no more about it. Most of her days before the war had been spent as an archaeolexicologist. Those days were rather sheltered and quiet. Umbra remembered feeling satisfied with her lot in life, but now...looking back...that femme certainly was not her. Not anymore. But for the first time, Umbra thought that might not be so bad.

“He is correct Umbra we don’t want to be anywhere near when he and his brethren unleash their full fury, All the stars in the universe wouldn’t satisfy the need for destruction he has”

Umbra blinked very deliberately when she heard Bludgeon when she heard the urgency in Bludgeon's voice. Okay. So this was pretty serious. Icepick was not kidding around. But if he and the rest of the Monstercons turned into some kind of abomination when they were all together...She didn't have to leave 'quite' yet. There was still time. After which though, she supposed that she would have to follow Bludgeon closely. A thought she didn't relish. There was something that she didn't entirely trust about Bludgeon. But...he had saved her...so he was her best bet for getting out of this prison alive. And despite the odds against her, she would. For Icepick. He didn't get mauled by a Terrorcon for nothing.

"Thank you, Icepick," Umbra said finally with a smile, looking at the blue and red monstercon. "Don't worry about me. I'll manage. Somehow," Umbra offered Icepick a reassuring pat on the shoulder. He still looked quite injured...Hrm. These Decepticons were going to use him for something, so...he'd be alright...right?

Semper Tyrannis--Brig

Firewire's initial response quickly clued Pointblank into the fact that he was not going to make much headway in enlightening this Decepticon to reason if she couldn't see the exact parallels between Megatron's goals and the notorious Zeta Prime of old. As if Megatron cared about extinction! How much sentient life had he snuffed out on his quest to establish "peaceful" tyranny. The whole notion was so laughable it was insane.

Pointblank huffed and walked away from the edge of the containment field and slid back down against the wall.

"None of us want extinction...I...I wish there were a better way..."

"Pfeh. Yeah. Well, when you find one, you let me know," Pointblank scoffed before returning his gaze to the floor of his cell.
___

Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

Well, Finback had not reacted as Reflector feared he might. Such volatile individuals Megatron seemed to place in positions of command responsibility around the empire. It was reassuring to see them display a modicum of restraint once every thousand vorns or so.

"Spyglass, mind the periphery of the system for Autobot contacts. I’m going to exercise a little acting-captain’s prerogative."

The indicated component looked blankly in Finback's direction. One hand slowly lifted, brought up an additional screen and then returned to its previous position. Reflector watched with detached interest to see just what the Autobot's little taunt had provoked the acting captain of the Tyrannis to do.

Ahh, a taunting joust. Between Finback and one of the most infamously belligerent Autobots in their ranks.

This would end well.

Garrus-9--East Wing Power Station

There had never been any doubt in Scorponok's mind that attacking Fortress Maximus in his very own base of power could have gone without sacrifices. How many he had already lost? How many he would continue to lose? Too many. That was the only right answer. Yet, there was no option, the course had been set millions of years ago. A war could be won only through sacrifices and this battle? This battle had brought them much closer to ending the war than any action in past thousand vorns. It had been a crushing blow against the Autobots.

Even so, already his losses could be counted in hundreds. Soul Siren was only one of the many even if her fate was more personal one than those of the rank and file for it had taken place in his presence. And still, he would sacrifice many more if that was what it took. He would make sure all those sacrifices the Decepticons had done thorough the Great War had not gone in vain even if was to cost him everything. In the grand game only one Cybertronian was irreplaceable, the personification of their vision for the future, the shining light of their cause. Megatron.

"Speak to them, mighty Scorponok. Speak to them all. Let word spread of this," Cyclonus said, indicating the fallen form of Maximus, "and the remaining resistance will crumble."

Cyclonus' words drew Scorponok's attention away from the emergency response team and all the Decepticons Fortress Maximus' last stand had injured or even killed. Cyclonus was right of course. It had been his intention to do so in the first place. Yet, he had allowed a moment of weakness to drift his thoughts away from what had to be done.

>>"Reflector."<< Scorponok began as he reached out to his flagship and the three that were one. >>"All frequencies. All ship to surface sound systems. Maximum holographic projection. Relay following message."<<

>>"Autobots, your resistance is at an end. Witness your defeat! Your great and mighty commander - Fortress Maximus... has fallen! What hope is there for those of you that remain and continue to fight? I am your hope now. Throw down your weapons, submit yourselves to the Decepticon empire and grasp your only remaining chance at living to fight another day. Your only alternative... is destruction."<<

Elba Mines

>>"Personally, I find myself far more productive when Venom adopts a style of leadership that places less emphasis on intense micromanagement. But I doubt it will last … barring any sort of unforeseen accident or incapacitation. In any case, we should make the most of this rare moment of freedom. I look forward to seeing these mines you’ve discovered firsthand, once I’m finished here on the surface."<<

Bombshell allowed himself a brief moment of levity as he chuckled in response to Kickback's initial comment. He could hardly argue with that proposition. The more out of the way Venom remained, the more headway they could make in advancing their own ends. The only concern for Bombshell now was how far each of his fellow Insecticon brethren would test the length of their new leashes. Bombshell, for his part, certainly intended to pull quite far from their normally established boundaries, but he was also quite sure that he would not be the only one.

>>"Such raw potential, heheheh. I look forward to Shrapnel's and your eventual arrival."<<

Chop Shop had already skittered off to explore. Transforming, Bombshell decided that it was time for him to do the same.
___

Garrus-9--Exterior

Treadrock fired down the side of the wall. The turrets had long since been sacrificed, but there was still a difference that one lone rifleman in a good position could still make from out here, especially since all of the bugs had not followed their masters' path into the prison via the massive breach that had been created by the still-smoldering wreckage of the Steelhaven.

"Gotcha!" *BLAM* "Got you, too!" *BLAM* Disgusting, multi-legged-" *BLAM*

The he heard a voice. He thought he'd gone crazy or glitched an audio there for a second, but the reality was even worse. The voice sounded like it was coming from the nasty sucker of a Decepticon ship. The one they had no chance of bringing down. A short time later, a massive holoprojection materialized below the ships, allowing it to be seen from nearly any angle of the Elban battlefield. It was truly one of the most horrifying things Treadrock had seen. Or thought he was seeing. Hopefully he was hallucinating.

>>"Autobots, your resistance is at an end. Witness your defeat! Your great and mighty commander - Fortress Maximus... has fallen! What hope is there for those of you that remain and continue to fight? I am your hope now. Throw down your weapons, submit yourselves to the Decepticon empire and grasp your only remaining chance at living to fight another day. Your only alternative... is destruction."<<

Treadrock froze. His weapon still pointing downward, but no longer firing.

"N-No. No way. Gotta be a trick. Gotta be..." Treadrock said as he pulled himself away from the wall and headed back for the prison itself via the emergency access panel he'd crawled through earlier. He opened a comm to his partner Rocktread.

>>"Hey Rocky?! You getting this transmission, man?"<<

>>"Yeah, they're blasting Scorponok''s voice all over the prison. They doin' it out there, too?"<<

>>"Yeah......it's not....it's not true is it?"<<

>>"I dunno bro. They got us pinned in a corridor here in the southern wing. I haven't seen Max and his posse for a while."<<

>>"A-Alright. Ok, hold tight, bro. I'm heading for your position now. We gotta. I don't know. We gotta figure out what to do."<<
___

Garrus-9--Southern Wing

Bludgeon had said the name, and Icepick looked in his direction balefully, nodding quietly. Icepick believed in the power and purpose of the Decepticon empire. But that thing had been a manipulation of science long before there were Decepticons. Even if only flashes of memory from that time still remained, he didn't like the fact that he had lost himself to that process. They all did. That thing they became, it was their bodies, but it was not their minds. It was monstrous. A creature every bit worthy of its name.

He looked over at Umbra. She seemed to be wrapping her head around his apology as best she could. She seemed to be doing about as well as Icepick himself in understanding what it all meant. Surely the past had taught them all the folly of attempting to control that thing. Had ego dulled their senses, or merely time?

"Yeah. It might all be for nothing. I wouldn't be surprised if Prowl had authorized an execution for one of us without anyone else knowing, just to make sure it never happened again. I mean Scowl's here and I saw Slog not too long ago. But I haven't seen Bristleback or Birdbrain in an age."

Besides, she's picked up something of an unlikely overseer in the form of Bludgeon. If he saw some additional purpose in her continued survival besides just good company, he'd ensure she remained functional. Surely.

Garrus-9 southern wing

Standing impassively to one side as his rescued and troubled colleague struggled with her emotions regarding the Monstercon’s apology. She was reluctant to leave the Monstercon through some kind of comradeship she’d established with him. Bludgeon didn’t need to know the details he knew comradeship appeared in the most unlikely of places. As He listened he knew Icepick’s doubts were unfounded the autobots would of wanted to study the six of them if the rumours where true the secret was within their frames.

“Umbra as tender as this moment is, it’s time we were moving on preferably before the Terrorcons finish their snack. As for your brethren they are invaluable for the secrets your frame holds” Bludgeon turned on his heels ripping the sword from the floor he started to move off. His optics locked on the gloom and darkness in front of him from his arm slid his combat shield it locked in place. The former Empirion commander strode forward his forward momentum was halted by a transmission.

>>"Autobots, your resistance is at an end. Witness your defeat! Your great and mighty commander - Fortress Maximus... has fallen! What hope is there for those of you that remain and continue to fight? I am your hope now. Throw down your weapons, submit yourselves to the Decepticon empire and grasp your only remaining chance at living to fight another day. Your only alternative... is destruction."<<


Bludgeon turned slightly looking back at the others “Maximus has fallen and we missed it through squabbling like petulant protoforms” his internal feeling that something monumental had occurred once again proved right. All that was left was to find the remaining Monstercons. Then he could implement his plan’s for the former autobot the potential alone for what that femme could accomplish for the decepticon’s war. As a wise mech once said Knowledge was power and what could be gleaned from her comrades it could be the most precious commodity in the galaxy power.

Bludgeon looked at Umbra she didn’t fully trust him but that didn’t matter to him through he would start to claw his way back up the decepticon chain of command.

It was inevitable.

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing

The Butcher of the Bogs watched the Monstercon climb shakily to his feet, glancing over to Overbite as the aquatic hunter as he added in his commentary. He listened to the conversations between the little femme, the Monstercon and Bludgeon as he watched Tentakil wander off into the prison to do as he had ordered. It had seemed as though the Monstercon had finally deduced the reason for their being here. To be honest, Snaptrap thought his team and the Terrorcons an ill suited match to a search and recover mission.

“Guess we can move out whenever you’re ready," Overbite noted, casting his optics toward the Butcher once more. “Shame. I thought we’d found something almost constructive for Nautilator to do."

Snaptrap's amber optics flicked back to Overbite, and he nodded. Sheathing his incendiary sword, the hulking Seacon commander carried his atom smasher rifle in one hand as he signaled for Overbite and Nautilator to escort their prize with a gesture from his free hand. It was long past time to wean his little femme from the Monstercon.

Clearly Bludgeon thought so as well, for he stormed away from them, calling for the little femme to follow him. Just as well. The Monstercon would throw himself in front of fewer threats to save her miserable life.

>>"Autobots, your resistance is at an end. Witness your defeat! Your great and mighty commander - Fortress Maximus... has fallen! What hope is there for those of you that remain and continue to fight? I am your hope now. Throw down your weapons, submit yourselves to the Decepticon empire and grasp your only remaining chance at living to fight another day. Your only alternative... is destruction."<<

Snaptrap paused for a moment to acknowledge the transmission from Scorponok. Fortress Maximus had fallen. Excellent. Victory would swiftly follow. Bludgeon said something about missing it because they were squabbling like protoforms. The butcher did not bother to spare the former commander of the Empirion a glance.

"Move."

Setting off in the wake of Seawing and Tentakil, Snaptrap set off to find the remaining Monstercons with Overbite, Skalor, and Nautilator presumably following closely with Icepick and Scowl.

>>Snaptrap two more Monstercons in view looks like a diaclone is playing guide to them orders?<<

>>"Excellent work, Tentakil,"<< Snaptrap shot back. A diaclone? Though the insecticons could be a nuisance at times and horribly inefficient, it appeared as though they were not entirely without their uses. They would surely exaggerate their role in matters, but it mattered not to Snaptrap so long as the desired end result was achieved. >>"We are en route. Meet us with the Monstercons."<<

Soon. Very soon their mission would be complete.



"Yeah. It might all be for nothing. I wouldn't be surprised if Prowl had authorized an execution for one of us without anyone else knowing, just to make sure it never happened again. I mean Scowl's here and I saw Slog not too long ago. But I haven't seen Bristleback or Birdbrain in an age."

"Yeah...could be but...why would the Decepticons risk it if they weren't sure that all of your would be here alive and intact?"

Umbra's face creased with worry. Icepick hadn't seemed to thrilled at the mention of this 'Monstructor'. What...what would happen to him? Would she ever see him again? Would Icepick be alright? All these questions swirled about in her head without answers. She was not likely to get any soon. She knew that much. Umbra looked away from Icepick as Bludgeon spoke, addressing her.

"Umbra as tender as this moment is, it’s time we were moving on preferably before the Terrorcons finish their snack. As for your brethren they are invaluable for the secrets your frame holds.”

"Right..." Umbra looked back over to Icepick. Bludgeon obviously saw some value in keeping her alive. Right? The uncertainty was plain on her faceplate as she looked at her friend. "Ah...Icepick...Find me after...if you can, ok?" Umbra stepped away from Icepick slowly at first, and then turned and jogged to catch up to Bludgeon.

Umbra was going to have to put her faith in Bludgeon. He had saved her life so far. Hopefully, he would continue to do so.



Slog walked along the dark broken cell blocks of their former residence, looking over to Wildfly with amusement. The most erratic member of their little cadre had already grown bored with the trek. It had been about a breem, yet time seemed to work much differently for Wildfly. Wildfly had decided to voice his misgivings about their twitchy guide when a very...strange sound caught Slog's audio receptors, and cut Wildfly off.

What...was that? The Monstercon artist could not place it for the life of him. It sounded like some awful cacophony of metal shrieking and protesting. Slog paused in mid-step when a primordial roar echoed through the dark halls. Wildfly and the twitchy thing both flinched at the sound. Slog halted now rather uncertain of their current heading. Their strange guide bounced away as Wildfly asked about their heading.

"… maybe we should pick a different guide?" Wildfly muttered, casting a hopeful faceplate in Slog’s direction.

"Perhaps so..." Slog replied, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Whatever was in that direction, Slog had no immediate wish to go and see what it was. Bristleback folded his arms over his chest and cast a glare in the twitchy thing's direction. "I knew we shouldn't of followed that thing. Just look at it! Googly-eyed and whatnot."

Heaving a sigh at Bristleback's usual argumentative antics, the de facto leader of the Monstercons glanced at his teammates, considering what direction they should head in now. "Well, any suggestions on which way to go then? I assume we're agreed that we don't want to head that way," Slog said with a jerk of his head in the general direction of the origin of the roar, "So, I'm open to sugges-"

“Hey you pair over here”

"tion...?" Slog turned to look at the one who had called them. Well. He wasn't a twitchy thing and spoke. That was two things that their prior guide had not had. He did have more than the necessary amount of appendages though. As in six more. Such an odd design. The artist in Slog wondered what kind of beast could have inspired a design like that. What did assure Slog was that there was the tell-tale purple insignia on his body, clear as day. Slog cast a glance in the others' general direction.

"It's an improvement at least. Perhaps now we'll get some answers," Slog said, moving off toward the more vocal Decepticon.

"I say we ditch 'im," Bristleback harrumphed testily, but in spite of himself, followed Slog's lead anyway. He had nowhere else to go after all. Slog raised a hand in greeting as he approached the other decepticon.

"Greetings, fellow Decepticon," Slog began, employing an attempt at eloquence, "Perhaps you'd be so kind as to tell us what that roar was. Or maybe what that creature is over there," he said gesturing to the twitchy, "Or maybe where it was guiding us. It wasn't very vocal, you see."

Semper Tyrannis - Brig

"Annnnnd there!" Brainstorm exclaimed as he stepped back to admire the amount of arithmetic he had plastered on the cell walls. Simple math, but good enough to keep his hyper active processor from blowing a fuse or two for a while. The Biomechanical engineer turned to the cell wall where Firewire dispensed some energon cubes from and grabbed a small sample for himself. Holding the vessel of fuel in his left hand, he fed his refueling tube into the cube with his right hand from his chest compartment. Soon the pink synthetic energon began pumping through him, refueling his moderately low energon levels.

As Brainstorm walked back to his "drawing board", the Decepticon analyst on the other side of the energy field began running her mouth plate off there being cameras all around.

"Well you certainly have quite a firm grasp of the obvious, my dear." The engineer sarcastically replied as he returned to writing his logarithms, "But political issues aside, you don't truly understand what it's like up in my brain module. My wonderful gift of being able to think on spot and have several hundred, if not thousands, of solutions ready on hand is also a curse I must bear. Such intellect and grand thinking often causes stress on the ol' processor. Part of the reason I took on the profession I did was so that I could improve on my own cranial circuits to withstand all that processing power." Even as he rambled, the Biomechanical engineer did not so much as cast the femme a look as he dove further into his own writing. "Besides, it's just basic mathematics. Protoform's play to anyone in the scientific community. Helps distract my other thoughts."

Afterburner soon was lively and back up and walking around. He shot Brainstorm a clever little quip as he strolled on by and began talking to his commanding officer, Scattershot.

"I miss the openness and freedom of a lab environment Afterburner, but what else is new around here?"

------

Strafe soon was comforted by the arrival of his fellow Technobot, Lightspeed coming to his side and assured the panicked Strafe that he was safe.

"T-thanks Li-Lightspeed...S-Sorry bout that... The s-sudden reactivation threw me o-o-off for a moment there." Strafe managed to mutter to Lightspeed as he brought a jittery hand to his processor.

"I just n-need some en-energon... Then I sh-should be better..." Strafe signaled to the fuel everyone seemed to be digging into as he struggled to rise from his spot against the wall.


((OOC: More to add later on))

Garrus-9--Corridors approaching the Eastern Wing

The exterior of the prison and its layered defenses had satisfied Scourge's inner lust for battle. What he had encountered on the inside after he had peeled away some of its steely layers had decidedly not. Through intent or through unfortunate happenstance, Scourge found himself well away from wherever the primary engagements were taking place. He had received word, however, that the Autobots were regrouping in the Eastern Wing for a last stand. That had been some time ago, though. Even now as he approached, his auditory receptors were not picking up the familiar din of a major battle. Rather, its aftermath.

The transmission from Scorponok only confirmed what his senses were picking up: the Decepticon offense had finally reached critical mass. The Autobots could hold them back no longer.

Smoke and other fumes wafted past the pale blue Tracker as he approached one of the upper level access points just as a pair of Decepticon subordinates arrived to, presumably, seal off said entrance from a possible counterstrike by any Autobot resistance still functional within the prison.

"This corridor is clear," Scourge said coldly, obvious dissatisfaction clearly evident in his tone over that fact, as the Decepticon grunts saluted and gave the Tracker a wide berth for entry.

His optics immediately found the individuals of interest in this part of the prison. Stretching out his wings, Scourge took briefly to the air and crossed the distance between the access point and the area where Scorponok and other Decepticons stood in victory over the fallen form of Fortress Maximus. What an impressive sight that was. And from the appearance of their commander and others in the area, it was clear that he did not go down easily. Nonetheless, even with chaos surrounding them, there was now a distinct smell of victory in the air. Scourge intended to savor it before readying himself for whatever his next task would be.

Garrus-9 Southern Wing

Tentakill watched as the realisation of rescue came over the Monstercons face Tentakill awaited the Monstercons to join him. As he kept a wary optic on the area he got his reply from Snaptrap.

>>"Excellent work, Tentakil, We are en route. Meet us with the Monstercons."<<


Tentakill almost smiled at his commanders reply his head rose as the Monstercons got closer Slog raised his hand in greeting.

"Greetings, fellow Decepticon, Perhaps you'd be so kind as to tell us what that roar was. Or maybe what that creature is over there,”

The Monstercon paused to direct Tentakill’s attention to the insecticon Diaclone.

“Or maybe where it was guiding us. It wasn't very vocal, you see."

Tentakill picked a rock and threw it at the Diaclone “Scoot ya damn pest” Tentakill turned to the Monstercons “that is a diaclone one of the Insecticons hive army also a royal pain in the aft plating probably taking you to the core insecticons, names Tentakill”

The Seacon looked back into the gloom how to explain the roar that was going to be complicated.

“The roar well let’s put it this way Hungrrr is instilling some discipline into his more unruly squad mate. Now if you’d follow me we have to go in the direction of the roar I believe a pair of your comrades are with my commander Snaptrap, Bludgeon and a few others.” it was then that Tentakill saw another pair of Monstercons emerging from the shadows a smirk grew across his face his stock had just risen further.

Tentakill turned and motioned for the Monstercons to follow him as he opened a link to report

>>I’m making my back to you Snaptrap, 2 more turned up so all remaining Monstercons are following no visible injuries on them<<

Garrus 9 - Eastern Wing – Computer Control Suite

>>"Anything we can gain access to will somehow be beneficial to the Decepticon cause later down the road.<< Banzai-tron replied.

As Banzai-tron responded Sparkstalker leaned back in his chair steepled his fingers and thought about this new mission. It was not impossible, especially for someone with his astounding capabilities, but did he want to do it? Eh, would probably be for the best, and besides he could always keep a bit of info for himself.

A small smile crept onto his faceplates. After a brief moment he replied to the Decepticon Intelligence mech. >>”Very well Banzai-tron. I’ll get to it right now. Any information I glean will be recorded and supplied to you as soon as possible.”<<

The Firecon leaned forward and began to work through several layers of firewalls and security codes. It was pitiful at just how bad the Autobots were at hiding intel Sparkstalker chuckled to himself.

Personnel files, technical readouts battle tactics…oh this was going to be fun.

Garrus 9 – Outside the Aequitas Chamber

Another low and equally low grunt caught Rung’s attention. The Autobot Psychiatrist took a quick glance over his shoulder at Streamlight. The guard was still pinned beneath Snapdragon’s heavy form. The weight of which causing the white and red flier’s armor to groan and creak in protest.

Rung turned his attention back to Cipher when he felt the Decepticon lightly grab his chin.

Cipher smirked and gestured toward Streamlight. “I doubt he’ll last much longer under that much pressure” The cryptologist looked around the slim orange ‘Bot and smiled. “Looks as though he had a little accident already.” Cipher looked back at Rung. “Lost a hand,eh?”

Rung’s optics bore into the Decepticon’s face. How could he ever think he could help someone like Cipher. Or any other ‘Con for that matter. Although this Cipher was markedly different form the one he knew back on Cybertron. Bold. Take charge. Quite the opposite of his former self. Perhaps it was due to the company he was currently keeping.

He took a slight step back when Mindwipe stepped up beside the smaller form of Cipher.

"You will give us the codes," Mindwipe said. "You will give us whatever you know. It is the only way to save your friend."

A low sigh escaped Rung as he lowered his optics to the floor. Either he gives this group what they were after and then become one with the Allspark or he refuse and they torture and or kill Streamlight to get what they want.

"Oh this is rich. Do continue." Apeface chuckled, a wicked grin on his bestial face.

Cipher chuckled lightly along with Apeface. This was getting interesting. Rung had always been a very capable rival. They would sit for hours trying to break one another. Of course neither even gave in.

And then there was the status update. Maximus had fallen.

"I am all giddy to learn more."

“Yes. Let’s keep this going.” Cipher placed one hand on his hip and gestured to the other ‘Cons in the area. “You might as well give me…us…what we want. There’s really no other alternative. Unless you have some sort of Autobots heavy hitter in one of your many storage compartments.”

Rung cocked his head slightly to the right taking in the Decepticon flier; reading his body language. “Even if I give you what you’re after you still will not be capable of entering the Aequitas chamber. The codes are useless to you.”

Streamlight tried several more times to toss the hulking mass pinning him off of his back. But without the use of his right hand and his lack of strength his struggling was useless. “Sl…slag off y…you glitch.” If he was bound to die he would at least go out with a verbal fight.

>>"Autobots, your resistance is at an end. Witness your defeat! Your great and mighty commander - Fortress Maximus... has fallen! What hope is there for those of you that remain and continue to fight? I am your hope now. Throw down your weapons, submit yourselves to the Decepticon empire and grasp your only remaining chance at living to fight another day. Your only alternative... is destruction."<<

And there it was. Streamlight raised his head as best he could.

Rung simply lowered his head turning his gaze hard to the floor. With the defeat of Fortress Maximus at the hands of Scorponok there would be no stopping the Decepticon invasion. The only thing that he could do was keep himself and Streamlight alive.

“It would seem I have no choice.” His head rose so he could look Cipher in the face. “I’ll give you the codes. You’ll have full access to the chamber.” He paused for a moment. “Then spill, Rung. I don’t have all cycle!” Cipher’s frowned at the Psychiatrist.

“No. I want assurance that you will not harm me and Streamlight even after I give you what you want.” Rung flashed the ‘Con a frown just as deep. Cipher pinched his nasal ridge between his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t have time for this, Snapdragon how about…” Rung reached his hand out and gripped Cipher by the wrist causing the cryptologist to snarl in response. “Wait! There’s more I can give you. More besides the codes to the chamber!”

The small Decepticon looked to Snapdragon… “Let’s see what he has to offer.” Curiosity fueling him he let his gaze fall back onto Rung. “Alright, Rung. What else do you have?”

Garrus 9 – Hidden Location

>>"Autobots, your resistance is at an end. Witness your defeat! Your great and mighty commander - Fortress Maximus... has fallen! What hope is there for those of you that remain and continue to fight? I am your hope now. Throw down your weapons, submit yourselves to the Decepticon empire and grasp your only remaining chance at living to fight another day. Your only alternative... is destruction."<<

“It can’t be.” The smaller Autobot let out a heavy sigh as he slid down the wall to a sitting position. “What do we do now?” He whispered. From the expression etched deep on his faceplate the other mech knew he had all but given up. The news spouted throughout the prison probably had the same effect on most of the others throughout the facility.

“We keep fighting. What else?” The other mech said matter-of-factly. The guard slumped on the floor glared up at the clawed bot. “What for? Fortress Maximus was defeated we’re hiding out in a defunct storage room and the place is swarming with Insecticon clones and ‘Cons! We don’t stand a chance.” Lowball shook his head and looked down to the floor.

Several of the guards who had taken refuge with them voiced their own agreement. They quickly quieted when Whirl met each one with his lone amber optic. Their heads dropped suddenly uncomfortable with holding the gaze of the former Wrecker.

Whirl quickly stalked to Lowball giving him a swift hard kick to the side sending the guard sprawling on his side. “Agh! What the slag?” Lowball cried out while reaching for his aching side.

“This is the thanks I get for keeping your aft alive? Doubt? Get up you worthless wit- licking dandy!” Whirl snarled down at the mech still clutching at his flank. “I’m getting out of this hell hole in one piece; you owe me that much. Now grab that weapon and get back on your feet.” Whirl used his foot to slide Lowball his weapon.

As the guard rose back to his feet Whirl spun around to the others gathered in the room. He hefted one of his weapons on to his shoulder. “That goes for the rest of you. I want out of here and you’re all gonna help me. And maybe, just maybe the rest of you will get the privilege to accompany me.” He nodded at the others and made his way to the door.

“Get the hell off this rock. Max gets his huge aft taken out by a bug and I have to take care of things? I don’t think so,” he mumbled as he took up a position by the door. He took a quick peek out to be sure the corridor was clear. “Sorry Max. I make it out of here you’re on your own.” Whirl said to himself as he pulled back into the storage room. “It’s clear. Let’s getting moving gutterspawn.”

Garrus-9 - Southern Wing, Cell Blocks

Without warning, Cutthroat regained consciousness and began to lash out violently at his Terrorcon brethren. It was a futile attempt as Rippersnapper leapt backwards, narrowly avoiding one of his disobedient comrade’s clawed actuators. “Ah ha! He’s awake and still trying to fight us! Foolish mech!” The terrorist growled as his meal continued to struggle and laugh uncontrollably. It was a rather comical sight to behold really, and Rippersnapper couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to himself. “And I thought I looked like a fish out of water. Ha ha! Stupid, crazy fragger! He’s never gonna learn! Never!”

As Cutthroat’s efforts continued to weaken, Rippersnapper saw his opportunity to finish the delicious snack that he had already started before he was so rudely interrupted. “Time for seconds!” The shark monster exclaimed as he moved back in close to the vulture-former, catching the insane Terrorcon’s flailing left arm in mid air and biting down firmly at the elbow joint. Rippersnapper then pulled hard, hoping to rip the appendage from its socket and have an entire arm to feast upon for himself.

Garrus-9 – Western Wing Armory

Just outside the eastern block, Kickback had been massing the diaclone swarm under his command. The Southern section had been, for the most part, pacified, and whatever isolated pockets of resistance or survivors might remain would be easy pickings for the Decepticons following in the path of the Insecticon advance. Only this part of the prison boasted groups of defenders that could even remotely be considered organized enough to offer stiff resistance. For all the good it would do; Maximus had fallen, the Monstercons were securely in Snaptrap’s custody … and Bombshell had, as an added bonus, located a suitable nesting site. Complete with its own ready-made snack buffet and workforce.

All that was left was to mop up. Naturally, it fell to the Insecticons to spearhead the assault; their glorious leaders obviously lacked the imagination to use the Swarm as anything other than cannon fodder. Many of the diaclones would be terminated, but, though it would certainly pain him, Kickback acknowledged their loss was acceptable, a further demonstration of their usefulness to the Empire. And besides, with the materials and fuel his scouts now marked for harvesting, they would be able to restore their losses twice-over, or more. Along with a few choice components his scouts were already salvaging from the Steelhaven’s tactical computer and what was left of the prison command center, the Swarm would experience unprecedented growth in the aftermath of this battle.

Meanwhile, there were appearances to maintain. Kickback opened a channel to the Butcher, his most direct superior—for the moment. >>Snaptrap, we are poised to begin our assault on the west wing. If you have any last-minute instructions, now’s the time.<< A pause, then, >>Also, you’re welcome; I’m just sorry I didn’t have time to properly gift wrap your little fugitives for you. Call it a peace offering after that unpleasantness with Bludgeon and his Autobot?<<

Garrus-9 – Southern Wing Cell Blocks

“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” Overbite muttered in response to his commander’s order to move out. He pointed with the barrel of his freeze beam blaster in the direction he wanted Scowl and Icepick to move, and only lingered long enough to make sure they complied. The undersea terminator’s golden optics flickered toward the Terrorcons as they continued tearing into their comrade, then he shrugged. “The scenery around here was starting to get stale, anyway.”

* * * * * * *

Sinnertwin yelped as one of Cutthroat’s thrashing feet caught him in the muzzle, then growled, pinning the offending appendage with one of his mouths while the other bit deep into metal and wire and circuitry and began shaking violently, tearing the durable machinery to pieces. He just hoped the Terrorist stopped his thrashing soon, or Hun-Grrr judged that he had learned his lesson, for now. There were surely more Autobots to hunt and terrorize and kill left on Garrus-9, and he hated the thought of being left out of it. Even for the pleasure of putting Cutthroat in his place.

* * * * * * *

The rock thrown by Tentakill skittered past the Insecticon diaclone, which started backward and gave a perturbed buzz of its wings. Its sharp mandibles clattered together in irritation as, with what could almost have been an air of wounded dignity, the locust-shaped mechanoid turned around, rose into the air, and lazily flew back the way it had come. Wildfly watched it go with a touch of wistfulness.

“Goodbye, twitchy robot thing,” said the erratic Monstercon, waving after it. “I think I’ll miss you most of all.” He then looked back at the newcomers, appraising them through narrowed optics. Finally, a grin split across his faceplate, and he nodded decisively.

“I say we go with ‘em, Boss,” he said to Slog. “They look like trustworthy Cybertronians--weird alternate modes aside. And they’re not Autobots, so there’s at least an even chance they won’t just slap us in a cell again.”

“Primus …” Birdbrain sighed, lowering the jagged shard of debris he had previously scooped up in the event the two strange mechs had proved hostile, and pinching the space between his optics in exasperation. “Did we have to bring Wildfly along?”

Wildfly ignored him. “Say, I don’t suppose there’s a chance you could help us out with these things, is there?” he asked, turning around and pointing with both thumbs at the inhibitor claw still latched to his back. He’d managed well enough so far in spite of it, but damned thing was a pain in the aft plating.

Semper Tyrannis: Brig

Scattershot scowled briefly as he awaited response from the unbidden voices beyond. He did not know who exactly he was addressing, but if Scorponok was any kind of a military tactician that the reports made the giant Decepticon to be, it would be someone half way competent. In the meantime he pondered the potential rosters of who were last listed under his command during the last briefing session Scattershot had attended with Fortress Maximus. Most of them were as unreasoning as Megatron himself, only less threatening.

After a moment a burst of static clobbered the background din of his musings. A fractured, crusted and wheezed voice crackled over the hidden intercom speaker. Immediately Scattershot's memory files raced to pull up the requisite information on the fish he had just netted. "Well bless my pistons... if it isn't Peg Leg Finback. Hows the Fin rot treating you these days? I was wondering what oceanic world Megatron had buried you for fermentation." The scowl immediately fated to a surprisingly satisfied smirk.

"Kind of a nice surprise to see you've been dredged up by Scorponok for your briny tales of yore. So far as what ya can do for me, ya can start abiding by those blasted treaties your commanders agreed to. Access to a few sonic showers would also be nice... the confines in here are beginning to smell of that primate wannabe." Scattershot figured there was little to hold the Decepticons to account if they failed to treat their prisoners properly. His party was still fairly beat up, though that in it of itself was to be expected. But the fact they had been drained to just barely life sustaining levels of fuel was a violation of at least twenty two accords signed in good faith by both factions regarding the treatment of prisoners of war. Of course that to he expected to remain a constant.

Scattershot stopped his jabs and his requests and allowed them to linger a moment. Possibly to satisfy Afterburner, though he personally doubted it. It was more to confide to himself that such a soft opener to his next request was going to be easier. He had noticed that weapons fire had slackened notably over the last several breems. Thus had the impacts against the hulk and shields of the battleship had been diminished to near nothing but common stellar debris. And if he noticed it, the others were bound to have noted it as well. It only gave him the suspicion that things had proceeded precisely as he had expected... the absence of the transwarp vibration frequencies through the deck only bolstered his thoughts.

His optics traced over passed Firewire to the other cells that contained Rad, Pointblank, Pyro, Nightbeat, Two others who he could not make out from the angle he was presently at and the others in his own cell, Brainstorm, Nosecone, Afterburner and Lightspeed. There was a high probability that whatever had happened it had been far too much for Fortress Maximus to overcome.

Scattershot returned his optics back to the recording node and his facial features were stoic and unreadable, as if he already anticipated what would come. At least he had prepared himself for the inevitable. "Seeing as you are in such a good humor Finback, hows about you tell us how things finally transpired down on the surface."

The Technobot Commander was well aware of the high probability that their over all leader had been beaten in battle. He knew it better than most. Images, fragments of data, discontinued sounds floated across his processor as he waited as patiently as he could within the box. If Maximus had fallen, it was left to him to return the favor back to the scrapping fragger who decided it was a good idea to attack the prison. At least Scattershot had already managed to scrounge the basics of a plan in that general direction. Now all he needed was the cover of demoralization to cloak them from prying optics. Hang in there guys. We'll get back at these rust caked piston grinders in due course. Don't let whatever that space barnacle reports get you down.

Garrus-9 - Southern Wing

Vroom let Stormwrecker catch up and punched him in the right arm.

"Good 'Con!" He said in a friendly tone and walked along with him. He listened to his idea and nodded. "Yeah, that is a good thought. We are not helping anyone by attracting those maniacs tot hem."

He stopped for a moment to listen to the communication coming through. The audio was not very good due to the various damage caused during the attack but the message itself was crystal clear. He took a moment to let it process.

"You know... I hear Scorponok say that... and... well, shouldn't I feel something?" He said to Stormwrecker although whether he was really talking to the Decepticon or to himself was unsure. "I mean, I am worried for ol' Fort Max but when it comes this being a defeat for the Autobots... nothing. All I want to do is still try to save some lives."

He started walking again.

"Maybe I have been in here too long."

Garrus-9--Eastern Wing--Power Station

A satisfied grin pulled at the very edges of Cyclonus' mouth as Scorponok acknowledged his suggestion. His listened quietly and respectfully as the transmission was created and sent to Reflector for mass distribution across the battlefield, both inside and out. Once those words and images were absorbed, Cyclonus had no doubts that they would be able to seal their stranglehold upon this facility. A well-fought battle, but one that had ended in the only way it could. The same, Cyclonus suspected, would be said of this war.

Turning away to continue surveying the damages sustained within the power station, Cyclonus noted the approach of Scourge from his periphery and looked to acknowledge his current and former crewmate.

"The Autobots here are in retreat. We will overrun whatever resistance remains. Consolidate your Sweep forces in Garrus' starport. I don't want them escaping once they realize they have no chance of defeating us," Cyclonus said.

"As you command," Scourge said, looking out over the railing of the catwalk at the various Decepticons below as they worked to either regroup or transport the injured away from the area. Cyclonus returned his gaze to Scorponok, Fortress Maximus and ultimately Wingspan who was dutifully carrying out their commander's latest set of orders.

"A pity Megatron could not recruit him in the early days of the war," Cyclonus said, mostly rhetorically, as he watched the brutal process unfold. "What a force he would have been under the Decepticon banner."

Semper Tyrannis – Bridge

Ignoring the insults—he’d heard much the same, or worse, from his own comrades at one time or another—Finback heaved a sigh. “Scattershot, your knowledge of treaty is as spotty as your aim,” the ancient sailor wheezed. “Not that I don’t find myself in a bewilderment you’d be citing provisions at me in the first place, even from the brig; that’s the work of a politician, not a soldier. But if that’s the way you want to play it …”

Finback manipulated a series of controls from within the confines of his containment and repair apparatus, bringing up the relevant sections of the Tyrest Accords and the several supplementary agreements and amendments that followed it. “Treaty explicitly defines the ethical treatment of Cybertronians while in custody at a duly-designated prisoner of war camp; you and your subordinates are currently being held aboard a Decepticon warship. And one of the specific exceptions to these articles applies to military vessels engaged in active combat operations. Which we currently are, in case you missed all the rattling and quaking earlier.

“In short, mate, even treaty recognizes that the captain of the ship has final say over how its stores are used, especially in the middle of a fight. And if Scorponok’s got you lot down to minimal rations, well, that’s just how it is. But we won’t leave you to go offline from a lack of fuel, so stow the whining.”

He then brought up the recording of the Decepticon proclamation of victory Reflector had transmitted earlier from the Tyrannis’ logs. “You want to see what’s going on planetside? Here’s the latest from the front. But I warn you, it isn’t pretty.”

>>"Autobots, your resistance is at an end. Witness your defeat! Your great and mighty commander - Fortress Maximus... has fallen! What hope is there for those of you that remain and continue to fight? I am your hope now. Throw down your weapons, submit yourselves to the Decepticon empire and grasp your only remaining chance at living to fight another day. Your only alternative... is destruction."<<

“Pity,” Finback mused. “Maximus was a respectable kind of mechanoid, for an Autobot. Doubt we’ll ever see his like again in this war. But what victory deserving of the name ever came without cost, eh?”

Garrus 9 - Eastern Wing - Power Station

With the Prison warden finally deemed unconscience and Scorponok making his near-victorious speech to echo through out the entirety of the facility, Banzai-tron took a step off the crumbled rubble of a former Autobot wall and gazed about the room. Deadlock had just made his arrival into the power station quite unnoticeable for someone who just phased through space bridge worm-hole. Perhaps the Decepticons had much better things to worry about than the arrival of a arrogant warrior such as him.

>>"Very well Banzai-tron. I’ll get to it right now. Any information I glean will be recorded and supplied to you as soon as possible."<< Sparkstalker rang over the Master of Crytallocution's comm set.

Excellent. Finally the Decepticon Intelligence officer was making some progress around here. Now all he had to do was ensure his fellow agents were making as much, if not more, progress as he was.

>>"Banzai-tron to Gutcruncher, report. What's your current status in the facility? Or are you too caught up into your marketing schemes that you haven't even bothered to leave the Tyrannis yet?"<<

***

Deadlock holstered his rifle over his shoulders and placed his actuators on his hip plating as he listened in on Scorponok's message ring out across the facility. What a sound it was to chime in on too, the sound of victory's iron grip closing tighter on the the throat of the Autobot's chances of turning this situation around into their favor.

The black and white Decepticon gave the gargantuan warlord a half-hearted salute as he strolled up to his side.

"Lord Scorponok, allow me to make up for lost time by pointing me in the direction you want and I'll be sure to get the job done." The warrior happily stated with a joyful snarl etched the left side of his faceplating.

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing - Cell Blocks

"Good thing WE weren't the ones locked up in here, eh Seawing?" Nautilator asked as he followed behind Seawing, trying his best to strike up some sort of conversation with his fellow Seacons as he meandered his way through the cell blocks of the prison complex. "You know what I mean?"

As the Seacon excavator continued through the Garrus 9 facility, he took notice of Tentakill talking with...Who was that? Surely not a mech he recognized. Nautilator approached the demolitions expert who had just tossed a piece of rubble over at an Insecticon Diaclone.

"Tentakill, who are these guys?" The teal and grey lobster-mech asked as he readied his triple-barreled weapon incase there were any "surprises" that might catch him and his fellow Seacon off guard. "C'mon, we gotta stick close to Snap- wait... Are these more Monstercons? If so, name's Nautilator."

Garrus-9 Secondary support armory; weapon limb storage


>>"Banzai-tron to Gutcruncher, report. What's your current status in the facility? Or are you too caught up into your marketing schemes that you haven't even bothered to leave the Tyrannis yet?"<<

Gutcruncher sneered, taking a moment to ignore his commander's call. He'd have to reply eventually, but he didn't see reason to make it any easier for Banzai-tron to boss him around.

After centuries of a mutually beneficial business partnership with the Decepticons, Gutcruncher was finally conscripted to serve under their banner, turning his skills for acquisition to the Decepticon secret service. He immediately chafed under Banzai-tron's command, projecting his anger and resentment onto his new boss.

The trip to Garrus-9 had been a profitable one. A resounding victory for his Decepticon 'comrades' had been a bonus; while they went off to fight Fortress Maximus and his cronies, Gutcruncher focused on the resources left behind. Dead Autobots all around; essential, rare components ready to be salvaged. Functioning Autobot technology, including stasis field generators and restraining bolts, now at his fingertips. Throw in a few still-active Autobot security codes and functioning vehicles and munitions, and it was a junk dealer's paradise.

A paradise he couldn't enjoy, because his new master was calling.

"I'm here..." he barely managed to speak the word: "...Commander. I've collected quite a few useful components for m- for the Decepticon cause."

Gutcruncher collected the valuable stuff: transformation cogs, brain modules, fuel pumps, spark chamber casing... "I'll rendezvous shortly. Just need to make sure there's no discarded weaponry."

Fortress Maximus ran a tight ship. There were armories on every level, and probably one near every cell block. Even amidst the numerous deactivated bodies of fallen guards or culled prisoners there were a few battle pistols and energon shotguns to add to his shopping cart.

It'd all fetch a pretty pile of credits... if Banzai-tron ever let him leave the fleet long enough to make a deal in a starport. No, all it seemed he'd do now was stockpile supplies for the Secret Service for... something. Whatever big move Banzai-tron was planning. Whatever he felt the need to hoard scrap for.

Focusing on that gave Gutcruncher some comfort. If he could find out exactly what Banzai-tron was up to... before his plan was set in motion...

...well, in time. For now, however, there was scrap.

And so very, very much of it.