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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.

South Wing Activity Area

Disappointment washed over Umbra when she heard the voice over the intercom. Despite herself, she had been enjoying speaking to Icepick. There was something to be said for good company, though most Autobots would not consider a Decepticon good company, but they were all prisoners here. All equal. Besides, Icepick and Scowl would not be the first Decepticons that she had become friendly with. Umbra shoved away that idea almost immediately and turned her attention to Scowl.

“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.”

Umbra chuckled at that and smiled back at Scowl. "I guess we're all in this together then," she replied. Umbra glanced over at the senior guard when he interrupted their conversation. She nodded to Scowl in response and sighed, "Bah, I was hoping we'd be able to escape his attention for a few more astroseconds."

As Umbra moved to get into line, someone bumped into her. A cold wave of dread washed over her as she recognized the voice that spoke. Oh Primus, please don't let it be her. As Umbra turned to face the speaker, she had to come to terms that it was her. Airachnid. Umbra fought to keep down a groan, making her features unreadable in the process. The recon agent could only wait until Airachnid went away, growing more unsettled by the astrosecond.

When Airachnid finally did move away into the lines, Umbra let herself feel some emotions again. At first, dread was all she felt, but that soon melted away replaced with a sense of resignation. Whatever would come would come. "But hopefully not too soon," Umbra muttered under her breath as she moved into line.

((OOC-Part 1 of Garrus catchup. Part 2 coming soon after.))

South Wing Activity Area

"We're all in the dark, my dear," Icepick said calmly as he nodded at Scowl's urging for them to obediently follow the guard's request. Activity time was valuable, particularly for Icepick. It was a chance to mingle and for this wretched facility to feel not so much like a prison. On the odd occasion that someone disrupted this period, the guards could be sure that it wasn't him.

"Information about the warfront is few and far between here. The war doesn't even exist for me, anymore."

Shrugging, Icepick moved in to follow Scowl.
___

The Greasepit--Garrus-9 North

Activity period was over. That usually meant a shift change. Goldrush didn't follow Maximus' staffing schedules too closely, though he did make a point to schedule an extra tender for the breems surrounding all major shift changes within the facility. He had tended to maximize his profit margins that way. Garrus-9 was a full-orn operating facility, after all. It only made sense for his own establishment to be as well.

"Rung, a pleasure. Always. Imbibing anything in particular today?"

The staff psychoanalyst tended to be one of his better customers. Apart from good conversation, he also had a good taste for both naturals and synthetics. It was a pleasure for Goldrush to serve such individuals.

((OOC-Part-2 of owed posts. Max will get his next.))

Cell Block

The cell door opening and sealing itself shut again was something that Skymauler hadn't heard in a while. Given the violent tendencies of his previous cellmate, the Seeker thought that he might be spared the company of another prisoner to this glorious institution for a good long while. It would appear that this was not his cycle for good favors.

"You must be new," Skymauler said, the slender, radiant-pink and black Cybertronian said, looking across from his own bench to the one that was now occupied by the new mech. Decepticon markings, but Skymauler didn't recognize him. But he had also been locked away in this pit so long that he'd be lucky if he recognized Starscream if the famed Seeker Leader suddenly found himself thrown behind these walls.

No, that was a lie. He would recognize Starscream anywhere. Anytime.

"Welcome to the land that time forgot," Skymauler said, putting his hands back behind his cranial unit and staring up at the ceiling again. It's what he did most of the time. It was maddening. Or at least it used to be, a long time ago. He supposed it was possible that he had lost his mind and simply wasn't aware of it anymore. Stranger things happened behind these walls.

"What are you in for?"
___

Southern Wing Activity Area

"An Autobot who don't play nice with the guards. That's pretty slaggin' rare," another one of the inmates said as he moved to line up with the others and be processed back in to their cells. He looked at the Autobot, Vroom, and smirked a little.

"What happened? You get passed over for promotion by Prowl one too many times?"

Stormwrecker had always found the political dynamics of this prison to make for interesting viewing. It wasn't exactly the gladiator combats of the good old days, but it was close enough. Normally everybody stuck to their own little gang, but he'd watched this one for a while now. And if anything had become evident over time, it was that he just didn't quite blend in with anyone. Not that Stormwrecker could see, anyway.

Cell-Block.

"Half a breem if I get my way"

Counterpunch hadn't spoken to another Decepticon in nearly a thousand years and Skymauler was as good a start as any. From the look of resignation on his face, he has clearly been here for an eternity and would be suitably detached from the rest of his faction to have not the slightest clue who he was. Perfect.

Counterpunch didn't really care though, he was just happy to be in charge again. None of these prisoners had to go through what he endured for almost a thousand years - trapped, disembodied, reduced to a floating conscience dominated by that paranoid fool Punch, but Counter was back in control, and he would make sure it stayed this way. He knew that despite his violent denials, Punch secretly loved his illicit life as a Decepticon, he enjoyed giving over control to his darker side... well now Counterpuch resolved to never pass the reigns back again.

The huge grin at the ironic freedom he was enjoying was hidden by his faceplate and visor, but Counterpunch still turned towards the door and pretended to inspect its construction. He muttered some technical jargon nonsense under his breath. He already knew the entire layout of the whole facility right down to the tensile strength of the rivets in the door to Maximus' office, but he didn't want anyone knowing. The agent part of Punch's personality still held sway there at least, and he knew he could never reveal his passenger - that would be an instant death sentence for both of them - but if he was going to be stuck here for a while, he may as well act the part of the new fish.

He stood silently for a few seconds. He could hear a terrified Punch bemoaning what he had got himself into for the hundred millionth time in the back of his head. He violently quelled his private irritant. Then, still facing the cell door, he replied to Skymauler's question with a simple statement.

"I broke Rule One. I got caught."

Even his voice sounded different. It had an extra modulator so it was different, but it felt.. rusty, as if waking from hibernation for the first time after the longest winter in existence.

"The names Counterpunch and I have two questions." That felt good, just to say his own name felt good.

"First off is who do I see to get fitted up in here? I'm going to need a sun visor if I'm going to have to look at your neon paint job all day, and they took away my polish when I arrived, I can feel myself getting duller by the second."
Counterpunch turned to his new cellmate and sat down on the bunk opposite him. He was thinking for himself. For himself! Punch was still screaming and desperately trying to regain the tiniest bit of control, but Countrpunch's grip was far too strong.

"Secondly, what do we do for fun around here?"

Southern Wing – Activity Area

Vroom could hear the command to stand in line to be sent back to the cells and stopped his exercising. He was getting bored with it anyway. He stepped out and stretched, moving with all the calm in the world. He knew there was a thin line between being slow and non-compliant and he happily walked down it. He began walking towards the line when one of the other prisoners spoke to him.

"Not play nice is too strong. I prefer to think they just don't appreciate my sparkling personality." He said with a grin. "As for why I am here. Well it seems Prowl doesn't appreciate getting his optics punched out. Who knew right?"

He shrugged but smiled broadly. He could still feel the memory of his fist hitting Prowl's face plate and it was a good one.