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Elba System - Garrus-9 Penitentiary

The noose around Fortress Maximus' neck tightens. Will the Decepticon 2nd fleet led by mighty Scorponok finally subjugate their old nemesis? And if they do, what will be the fate of the Autobot resistance?

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Re: Elba System - Garrus-9 Penitentiary

Postby Drop Bear » Mon Feb 25, 2013 3:26 am

Motto: "Face it: we're doomed."
Weapon: Black Magic
Southern Wing – Cell Block M

Shoulder-plates slumped forward as if an immense weight bore them down and wearing an aspect of defeat, Wildfly portrayed the antithesis of his usually energetic and haughty character. Gaze still aimed at the floor, he responded neither physically nor verbally as Whirl insulted him and, in plain view, enjoyed the energon ration at his own leisure. Wildfly looked as though he could barely stand, let alone retaliate with any measure of ferocity.

Or that was how he wanted to appear in front of those idiots, those wastes of spare parts, those walking corpses who would soon become real corpses. Judging by their expressions, Wildfly was putting on an award winning performance.

Splendid. Maintain discipline now, go all Terrorcon on them later. A brilliant strategy.

Despite the thought nearly coaxing a smile out of him, thus ruining this charade, a fury more potent than the presence of a thousand suns blazed within him. One way or the other, he would annihilate Whirl. One way or the other, he would obliterate Spree. And nothing—nothing—would stop him from slaughtering those two.

Wildfly heard the guards speak, their tones tense and raised which he found strange. Because images of their deaths by his actuator clogged his core processor, forbidding his attention to focus on them, he didn't catch their entire conversation—but he did hear the most significant part. Exhibiting the appearance of a prisoner destroyed by his sentence and the system, Wildfly remained seated on the edge of his cot.

Spree punched in the security code. The locks disengaged. The door swung open. He entered the cell.

The. Fool. Actually. Entered. Wildfly's. Cell.

Wildfly was motionless. Astonishment didn't even register as he saw Spree standing in his cell, Whirl not far behind in support. Considering the harassment he'd been subjected to, he had half expected as much.

He supposed they more than half expected him to charge at them like a starving Mecannibal, but he hadn't planned it like that. Though that did sound alluring to the rage boiling inside him.

When Spree came close enough, into a range where his demise was inevitable, they would discover just how “listless” and “pathetic” Wildfly really was.
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Re: Elba System - Garrus-9 Penitentiary

Postby Gatkowski » Mon Feb 25, 2013 4:59 pm

Motto: "Victory needs no explanation, defeat allows none."
Weapon: Nuclear Charged Fusion Cannon
Warden's Quarters


"I was reading some of your requests, Stingray. I've got to admit, I'm a little impressed. The usual requests I see are what you would expect from an inmate: more fuel rations, longer rec time, full pardons. The usual. And that's just the coherent requests. Yours have been surprisingly...unorthodox. Optional communal reflection periods. Expansion of the library. Increased opportunities for prisoners to complete time-served in work positions within the facility. Pretty good ideas, and supported with evidence. I like that."

Stingray listened silently. If she wanted to be frank with herself, she didn’t know what to expect from the Warden’s summons. Even if she had expected anything, acknowledgement would have been the last thing.

The requests Fortress Maximus was talking about were little more than notes jotted down onto a public data terminal Stingray used when spending time in the archives chamber. A few notions inspired by the works she had read or idle scribblings on why she found them useful. Or attempting to find an excuse to get closer to materiel. She had absolutely no inkling it would interest the Warden himself so much.

"Thank you, sir," she said simply. "I was... I was just trying to learn from the works of Alpha Trion, Dominus Ambus, Boltax and a few others. The principles about integration and communal employment in The Nature Of Balance seemed...," she paused to find the right word, "...incentive."

That was true. Stingray had read a lot and it had shaped her outlook on many things. And there was that drive to know even more. She couldn’t quite put it into words, but understanding gave her a measure of certainty. Certainty she had seldom experienced before.

Maximus got up from his seat. He was one immense Transformer. Stingray had never seen another one his size this close up.

""Our library may not be the biggest in the history of Cybertronian use, but it works. Mainly for our civilian population here, but nevertheless. I know that Snippet wouldn't object to a little assistance. This would be during your rec time, if it's going to happen. At least for starters, and we'll see how you do with a little more free access to the prison. From there, who knows? Snippet might request your time a little more frequently and I might oblige him, if your behaviors warrant it." "

Stingray knew Snippet, if fleetingly. He used to bring her the works from the archives she had been granted access to. He came off as a knowledgable mech, if a little stiff. He always knew where to find something on a given topic.

At the mention of free access, survival instincts drilled into her long ago flickered back from her memory. A chance to slip through security and escape. A chance to take out high-profile personnel. A chance to transmit intelligence packages. Her pump rate spiked for a few short astroseconds.

Then she quashed all such thoughts. Seeing where following the Decepticon conduct had ended her up, she was not about to risk her neck because of a sudden burst of reckless bravado. Maybe trying for a solution without conflict would get her farther.

"Thank you sir. I’d be glad to lend your librarian an actuator." It was very strange, conversing with an Autobot almost casually, especially one of such high status but Stingray decided she’d see what came out of it. "What will be my duties?"
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Re: Elba System - Garrus-9 Penitentiary

Postby Ember » Tue Feb 26, 2013 4:35 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Rung’s Office

All of the fidgeting, the incessant finger tapping on the armrests of the chair, the heavy, uneven intakes, did not go unnoticed by the psychiatrist. Everything was noted, if not in writing then it was recorded and stored within Rung’s own processor for later examination.

Armor Aid was still hurting. He hadn’t made it past the mourning stage of his loss. In order for him to move on to the following stages he was going to have to accept that he was not responsible for the death of Lancet.

Rung sat patiently, quietly, legs crossed hands gently folded and set lightly on his knee as he watched the medic go through the motions of not wanting to face the truth. Armor Aid had found a surrogate to acceptance of his loss…an addiction. The cygar – 8’s were his crutch, and another way to hold onto Lancet for just a little longer. In hindsight, they were just as much the problem as his mentor’s death.

It was the sudden outburst that finally got Rung to move from his position. The accusation that he was somehow unable to cope with the loss of other mechs was difficult to fathom, however, the psychiatrist recovered and replaced his surprised expression with one of understanding. "Armor Aid, I know you don’t mean any of that."

Rung placed both elbows on his knees and leaned down so he could catch the doctor’s optics with his own. “Aid, you do have a problem. You’re using the cygar – 8s as a crutch. As a way to hold on to Lancet for just a little longer and as a result you’ve become dependent on them, not only as a way to keep your thoughts straight, but as a way to keep your mentor close to you."

A soft sigh escaped Rung as he looked at his newest patient. “I want to help you move on to the next stage. You’re stuck, Aid, you’re stuck in the mourning stage and you have to move on to the acceptance stage of your loss." Rung’s lips curled up into a small smile as he reached out slowly and placed his hand lightly on Armor Aid’s knee. “Let me help you. Let me help you move on. Let me help you regain control of your life so you can beat this addiction. So you can reclaim your existence and prove to yourself that you’re every bit as good as Lancet. Let me help you see that your mentor made the right decision in choosing you as his successor."

Rung removed his hand from his patient’s knee and leaned back in his chair. He watched the mech for a moment before he pressed a bit further. “Let me ask you something. If you were not here or if you had never met Lancet, do you think the attack on him would have still happened?" He asked the question to see how Armor Aid felt about his own existence. Armor Aid needed to understand that even if he was not around there was still a chance that Lancet would have made the attempt to see Fortress Maximus and he would have still been attacked and killed. If Rung could get his patient to see that no matter what he did or didn’t do the outcome would still have been the same, then maybe Armor Aid would accept Lancet’s death for what it was…a tragic undertaking made possible by a few corrupt individuals.

Southern Wing – Level 4 – Cell Block C

There had been silence between the two mechs for quite some time. It suited Kronus fine. He was used to the quiet. Of course it was a bit strange for the young guard to be so tightlipped. With a mental sigh Kronus decided to keep his “friendship” up by striking up a nice conversation. “Shanix for your thoughts."

“Huh?" The light sound of Streamlight’s youthful voice floated into the thief’s cell and settled into his audios. “I said a shanix for your thoughts. You’re usually a bit more…well, you know, talkative." Kronus shifted onto his side as he focused on the door. “Something wrong?"

There wasn’t an answer; instead the only sound that drifted into the cell was a soft sigh. Curiosity piqued, Kronus slowly sat up on his cot and cocked his head to one side. He waited a moment more but still no vocal response. The lithe mech stood from his resting place and made his way to the cell door. He lifted up on the balls of his feet and cast his gaze around the area. “I get it. It’s about me, isn’t it? You really do think I’m glitched."

“No. That’s not it." The voice wasn’t coming from the desk instead it was off to the side and out of view from the Decepticon. Kronus strained his neck in an attempt to see the young guard, but when the tension on the cables became too intense he gave up and lowered back down onto his heels. “Okay, so what is it? Can’t help you if you don’t let me in ya know."

Another sigh, this one heavier than the previous one. “It’s Rung." The guard said as he finally stepped into view. Kronus raised an optic ridge as he took in Streamlight’s worried expression. “What about him? Is this because he wants to meet with you?" Kronus’ voice was low but still filed with faux concern.

Streamlight shrugged and slowly made his way to the desk. He plopped down in the chair and placed his elbows on the surface. With a snort Streamlight rested his chin in his hands. “He thinks we’re becoming too close. But it’s not like I’m leaking codes or anything like that." There was a light chuckle from behind the cell door. “Heh. You don’t happen to know any do you?" Streamlight’s head shot up as he looked into the crimson pinpricks shining out through the door’s window. “Of course not! I’m just a guard!"

Another chuckle, this one a bit louder and longer. “Don’t get your lugnuts in a twist. I was just foolin’ around." Kronus said before he let out a heavy sigh. “Look, kid, Rung’s okay…well, he’s okay for a spindly little cretin, but he’s okay. Just go in there and let him know how you feel. That’s what he’s there for…or what they pay him for…or whatever." A few shuffling steps and Kronus was back on his cot. Streamlight grumbled something quietly before the two mechs grew silent once more. “Kronus?" The young mech questioned after some time.

The thief lifted his head slightly and set his optics on the bright ice blue color of Streamlight’s optics piercing the dark of his cell. “Yeah?" A moment of silence filled the room as the ‘Con watched the young guard’s optics offline. “You don’t think I’m glitched, do you?"

Kronus stared for a moment, a hidden, toothy grin plastered on his face beneath his face restraint before he laid his head back down. “Nah. You’re not glitched. You’re just trusting. But that’s a good thing." For me. Kronus’ smile broadened.
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Re: Elba System - Garrus-9 Penitentiary

Postby Ember » Sat Mar 02, 2013 6:25 pm

Motto: "I'm not psycho...I just like psychotic things."
Southern Wing – Level 4 – Cell Block C

There was silence between the inmate and the sentry after Kronus’ comment. He was “trusting”. Streamlight thought about it and realized that perhaps the Decepticon was the only one with the ballbearings to tell him exactly what he thought. Of course he never really took the opportunity to get to know many of the other guards, save Steelhand; chances were that had he he’d be sure to get plenty of input.

After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, Streamlight began to get a few things at his station in order. He was going to need to leave soon since his appointment with the psychoanalyst was fast approaching. But first he would need a stop off in the barracks for a quick refuel.

It was the movement and the quiet noises that caught Kronus’ attention. The thief raised his head off his cot and looked up to the little window adorning his door. “Something wrong out there?" He questioned. He wasn’t sure if the young guard had gotten orders or if he was just fidgeting. “Oh, I’m just getting a couple things in order. I need to get going pretty soon." Streamlight answered lowly.

“Leave? That session gonna start so soon?" The thief was curious, not to know when his watchdog would be leaving but who would be replacing him. There were few other staff members who he tolerated…strike that, there was only staff member he tolerated and the mech outside the door was that mech. “Who’s comin’ down to take over?"

Streamlight looked up from his station toward the door and let out a low sigh. He hated doing it but the only other guard who was trained in handling Kronus, if only barely, was Spree. The only problem with such an arrangement…if Spree needed to enter the inmate’s cell he’d never get past the security protocols. Very few staff members possessed the codes; Spree was not one of them. 'Precautions' was the reasoning, or so that was what Streamlight had been told. Dangerous inmates, if an emergency within the facility occurred, would go down in the crossfire. “I have to see Rung in a little over a joor." Streamlight mentioned, but he held off on answering Kronus’ last query; at least for another moment.

At the young guard’s silence Kronus took a guess, although he already knew the answer. “Spree, huh?" He placed both arms behind his head and crossed his ankles. “Mech’s gonna find himself on the wrong side of an inmate’s door one of these days. I only wish I can be there when it does happen." Kronus let out a low, cruel chuckle. “Slag, I hope it’s my cell he winds up in. He won’t be making out in one piece."

“Okay, knock it off. The guy’s an aft but he doesn’t deserve to be torn apart." Kronus snorted loudly in response. “Who said I’d tear him apart?" Streamlight simply stared at the ‘Con’s door silently.

Southern Wing – Cell Block M

Arm waving uncontrollably, Spree stumbled into Wildfly’s cell. He steadied himself before he fell to his hands and knees before the Decepticon. Once stable on his own two feet Spree took a worried glance over his shoulder to Whirl who was poised just inside the door, his guns drawn and aimed directly at the prisoner. “Go on. Give the mech a shake." Whirl ordered. Spree, for the most part simply stared at the senior guard with a dumbstruck look plastered on his face. “Bu…but…"

Whirl let out a tired sigh before he moved further into the cell and grabbed Spree by the back of the neck and leaned down to speak into his audio. “Not such a brave mech when the barriers are down, are ya." It wasn’t a question, and it certainly wasn’t meant to be.

Whirl’s grip loosened slightly, however, when the PA system came to life with the voice of the young mech stuck in the “basement” came over the airwaves. "Spree. You’re requested on Level 4 of the Southern Wing." The PA cut out as quickly as it had been opened and the two guards were left standing in the middle of the Monstercon’s cell. “Looks like you get to proto-sit Kronus for a while." Whirl taunted.

Spree flinched slightly when he felt the pincer tighten around the back of his neck once more.

Whirl gripped the mech’s neck and roughly dragged him from the enclosure locking the door behind him. He tossed the other guard across the hall and Spree slammed hard into a door. Before he was able to gather his bearings and pull away, Whirl was on top of him. “Word of advice…if you’re gonna threaten a ‘Con then you better be prepared to follow through with them." The senior guard backed off slightly and glared down hard into the other ‘Bot’s optics. “Get outta my sight you fraggin’ grease stain!" Spree was too surprised by the recent events to even open his mouth; instead he ducked out of Whirl’s glare and took off.

The coptor-bot watched as the frightened mech ran off in the direction of the lifts and disappeared from sight. He let out an evil chuckle as he turned back to look through the door’s tiny window. Tap. Tap. Tap. “Pretty sure he’s on the top of your list." Tap. Tap. Tap. “The time comes…I’ll hold him down for ya."
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The Convergence - Garrus-9 Penitentiary

Postby Cryhavok » Tue Mar 05, 2013 9:21 am

Motto: ""It is all about pain.""
Weapon: Fusion-Powered Anti-Gravity Gun
Command Center

Another boring day at the surveillance station. As if anything was ever going to happen here aside occasional brawl between prisoners. Or the once in an orn Decepticon scout ship popping on the far fringe of the star system only to be driven off by the Autobot fleet stationed in the Elba System. Speaking of prison brawls, there hadn't been a single one since that encounter between that odd little psycho with restraint harness and that gangbanger 'con with a name that he really didn't live up to. Unless of course, this little altercation between Spree, Whirl and this Decepticon whose name he just couldn't remember... Brainfly? Wildbird? Something like that - would turn into one.

Yeah, Vantage saw it all. If Whirl or the others thought their little games went unnoticed, they were wrong. The prison wards were flooded with surveillance equipment. You never knew when a prisoner would let something important to slip by. Too bad those who actually held information worth of Vantage's time hardly ever let anything slip. So yeah. Whirl and Spree, they were so busted. Or would have been if Vantage had been an Autobot of unwavering morals. See, as far as he was concerned, these Decepticon murderers deserved all the abuse they were subjected to. He would gladly follow the show and conveniently fail to inform Fortress Maximus of these occurrences within the prison wards.

Though Vantage suspected that the warden knew what was happening in his facility. The big guy had suffered enough in the hands of the Decepticons to let something like this slip by on every occasion it took place and then some. Of course, that was just wild speculation Vantage couldn't afford to bring under scrutiny. Maximus could very well share Optimus Prime's unwavering ideals and Vantage was not about to gamble on those odds. To even think of losing this job because of an ill placed freudian slip sent shivers across his spinal strut. Slag no he was going to get demoted to waste processing just because he thought big Max might not be as valorous as most people were led to believe.

Yeah, better to just let Whirl work his magic in peace. At least he was bound to get some entertainment out of this job because of nutcases like Whirl.

And this was the point when his boring day took a turn for worse. Vantage just didn't know it yet. The surveillance terminal he was manning went from nothing at all to alert mode. Three unidentified and unscheduled ships had entered the reach of their surveillance equipment. A Decepticon scouting party - it had been months since the last one. Finally something worth of reporting over.

>>"Surveillance engineer Vantage to Fortress Maximus. We have three unidentified vessels in the radar range. They are not responding to our communications. Their behavior pattern suggests we are dealing with a Decepticon scouting party. Waiting for further orders."<<
____________________________________________

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