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Tenebrous--Holding Cell: Level B

It was not necessarily a second level, at least from the perspective of the metal slab in which the slowly reactivating mutilated body rested. It was more of a pit, an after thought. A hole that had been carved out of the bottom of the floor and lined with mesh, titanium plates and a few security lasers that followed the occupants that had been cast below. Lighting was minimal, not that it really mattered as there were few features to appreciate. A small Energon dispenser designed to deposit a small prisoner's ration of concentrated energy cubes.

It was a tightly confined space, two dozen meters cubed... a metallic grate signifying its only source of naturalish light from the level above, with a hum of electricity that crackled low should one of the damaged attempt a brave act of self sacrifice. Pyro released a low moan as a surge of pain coursed through his lower left side. His optics flicked on then off as they adjusted to the murky gloom. The ranger allowed his audio receptors to begin their cursory scans of his surroundings and confirmed his fears.

The drips of fluids from ill maintained pipes, whether by result of shoddy construction or by some ancient system of plumbing lost long ago by the inhabitants of this world, Pyro could not tell. In fact he dared not ponder. The burning intensified as the sedatives began their slow lingering decline. Pyro reinforced his weakened structural integrity field around the jury rigged repair job around his hip. His optics flickered back online transfixed to the small grate leading to freedom and the shadows above.

"Prime..." He whispered. "I failed."

<< OOC: Been a while since I've done anything like this -- hopefully the rust sheds quickly. >>

Fort Tenebrous -- Holding Cells

Ever since their observation of Turmoil and his forces at Melanossus, Scourge had remained silent -- perhaps uncharacteristically so. There was something to be said for decisive action, after all, and truth be told... well, if Turmoil wished to believe he could come out on top in such a challenge, the Sweep commander would leave him to his delusions. For now, there were more important matters to be concerned with.

"Let's see if these Technobots are all they are reputed to be, hm?" Cyclonus's words brought only a flicker to his crimson optics, as well as the faintest of smirks, though he didn't let Cyclonus see the smirk itself. Yes, indeed, he thought to himself, let's see what all the fuss is about.

Stalking along behind Cyclonus, Scourge remained silent as they met Soul Siren at Scattershot's cell, crossing his arms as he observed the proceedings. "Skyhammer's foolhardy resistance was not enough, it seems. Nor Vulcan's. Nor Roadbuster's. Now you, Technobot leader, seek to take up the mantle, it seems. To what conceivable end? Spare me the Autobot drivel about defending innocence and sentience. You are so severely outmatched on this world that the very idea has become laughable." That was Cyclonus for you -- direct and to the point, no beating around the bush.

Pity. Sometimes, beating around the bush was the fun part. Then again, Scourge had moments where he enjoyed toying with his prey before swooping in for the kill.

"It's about time Room Service showed up. Afterburner here placed an order over three breems ago. Guess I can replace his order, I'd like to start with a nice set of high grade energon, some silicon chips and oh yeah Titanium Wafers." At least Scattershot had a sense of humor -- a shame he would lose it soon enough.

"I find myself less than impressed at first sight, Cyclonus," he muttered, belatedly giving answer to Cyclonus's question during their walk into the depths of Fort Tenebrous. "These pathetic cretins cling to the delusion of hope like Dylarian rust-bats, even when all is lost."

Tenebrous--Holding Cell

Cyclonus' expression looked as if it could have been carved out of stone as he stood motionless, taking in the Technobot's snark reply to his obviously baiting greeting. Fair enough, the warrior thought to himself.

"Charming," Cyclonus finally said, stepping closer to the edge of the energy field that kept the Technobots securely on the other side. "It would be inadvisable for you to waste this opportunity. Give us what we wish to know of your function and operations here and your team might be allowed to spend the rest of its days in a comfortable penal colony or mine, contributing--in some small way--to the furtherment of our species...."

Cyclonus paused.

"...if, however, we determine that you have nothing of value--and are nothing more than an obstacle--then the only suitable end is death. Death for every Autobot that somehow washes up on this planet, as you have. You might think yourself so noble that you would die rather than assist us....but...will you make that choice for everyone? Have Autobot ideals become so calloused over these many vorns of war?"

Cyclonus looked in to the optics of each of the captured Technobots before turning and ultimately facing Scourge and Soul Siren.

"Agreed," Cyclonus said, matter-of-factly, to the Tracker's earlier statement before his optics settled more specifically on Soul Siren.

"Who sent them? Who yet remains free among their ranks on this world? I'm confidant that Scattershot and his team know these things. I'm equally confidant that you can get that information out of them. Do what you must in order to make that a reality."

Ocean Depths

The Seacon Commander's search was proving to be frustratingly unfruitful and slow. One of the drawbacks to this form was its speed, which was practically nonexistent. His team was the only one in the Decepticon armada with aquatic capabilities, and as such, they were the only candidate for underwater operations. Still, something like reconnaissance did not require the whole of the Seacons. Snaptrap's thoughts were interrupted by a transmission from Overbite. He opened up a comm link.

>>"Good work, Overbite. Give our guests a proper welcome. Just have a care to not offline all of them."<<

Opening another communique to the rest of the Seacons, Snaptrap turned in the direction of the escape pod and began the trek to the received coordinates.

>>"Seacons, regroup at Overbite's location. An escape pod has been located. Providing coordinates."<<

----------

Seawing was scanning the underwater terrain speeding beneath him when he heard Overbite call him. He smelled something? Probably Skalor. You could smell that one from a mile away.

Seawing wheeled around and shot after Overbite, discovering with some surprise, an escape pod. He circled around it, scanning for motion inside as Overbite notified their great leader Snaptrap.

----------

Nautilator scowled and scuttled away as Skalor began leaking his oil onto the Lobster. He didn't understand why he had to get stuck with Skalor of all of his comrades. Disgusting.

"No, and maybe if you'd stop leaking every-"

Nautilator's sentiment was cut off by a transmission from Snaptrap. Thank Primus. They'd found something.

"C'mon Skalor, let's go," Nautilator said hastily as he scuttled as far ahead as he could from his reeking comrade.

Tenebrous--Holding Cell

Scattershot rubbed absently at his elbow joint, not because of pain but to feign interest in the words being spewed forth from the Decepticons at the lib of the energy barrier. He stopped briefly and placed his palms on the edge of the slab in which he had claimed. His optics narrowed on the crowned purple flier and his centurion comrade.

"Who sent us?" He quipped with a smirk. "I thought it would have been obvious Scourge." The Technobot commander shook his head and chuckled briefly.

"We were sent by your manufacturer of course, They asked us to deliver a message regarding how you've been installed with a set of faulty personality chips." He paused briefly as he feigned a struggle to push himself up to his feet. "But if you are really nice and say please, I might just have Lightspeed here oversee the repairs they mentioned. I am sure he has the schematics for the Scourge Mark II Processors somewhere on this rock."

Scattershot paced to the edge of the cell barrier and smiled. "Hope, my good mechanism, isn't even half as potent as reality. I am just starting to have my bit of fun." He released a mock wince, no reason to let these idiots know he was still ready for a fight, at least until he was on better terms.

He gave a simple gesture to the trio and turned his back upon them. "Whatever information you want, go somewhere else. So far as I've heard, there isn't any incentive for my team's cooperation."

OoC: Seacons tomorrow.

Beneath Fortress Tenebrous

Digging and drilling away was tiring, but a fruitful effort. He had to help his comrades escape. He absolutely had to. If he couldn't help them escape, then they would probably be killed from a firing squad; or worse.

And so he continued to drill onward. He remembered his plan -- A flawless one -- and followed it to the "T". Nosecone continued to dig until he was nearly within scanner range. He crated thin platforms under area where the cell would fall so that the descent would be cushioned instead of abrupt and deadly.

He remembered something, though. They would be injured and weaponless. They wouldn't put up much of a fight against an entire fortress of Decepticons.

But there was a way that they could. If Nosecone dropped the Armory and Med Bay as well...

He did the math and found the odds favorable if they had the ability for a CR Chamber regeneration or at least some minor patches. Yes... Favorable indeed.

Nosecone quickly (For him) began to prepare the same thing for the other areas that they required.

*****

Unknown Location - Inside Fishing Vessel Hold

Darkness fills the area. It was submerged with water to keep the catch of Phosphorescent Swordfish and Phosphorescent Shrimp alive until the Nebulans can unload them so that the meat may be fresh.

Nightbeat, Hosehead and Skyhammer, however, are different matters entirely. Nightbeat's optics suddenly grew bright and he lifted himself from the floor of the large container. Suddenly, a flat object struck Nightbeat's head. It was the ceiling. The ceiling was low and the room was cramped for three Transformers and fish combined. He leaned against the wall and waited for his partner to wake.

Bottom of the Ocean

Skalor let out a deep chuckle at Nautilator's irritation about his stench. Apparently it was irritating to work with.

"Not my problem." Skalor said, like he had done on countless occasions.

And with that, he received the signal from Snaptrap. Overbite had found something of the Autobots. Excellent... He will enjoy crushing them under his fangs or watching them slowly corrode.

With that thought, he began to travel to where Overbite's signal was coming from.

*****

Bottom of the Ocean - Farstar Escape Pod Landing Site

Overbite swam about the pod, searching for any signs where the occupants went. This was hard to find, even for Overbite. But once he caught that familiar scent, he stopped short and turned in the direction of where it came.

"Seawing! You smell that? It is the smell of an Autobot in the water..." Overbite said, taking another whiff of the smell he was tracking.

Once he was sure he was on an Autobot's scent, it would be only a matter of if the other Seacons could keep up with him. There would be no way for them to escape. It was hard to shake Jawbreaker from one's tail -- especially when he bites down upon it.

Fortress Tenebrous

Snapdragon looked on at the prisoners as Apeface continued to speak. "Yeah but what after that?"

He shook his head.

"We are reaching the end of the line here Apey. Soon we are going to have to find something new to do or rust away."

Tenebrous--Holding Cell

Soul Siren Saluted Cyclonus and Scourge as they entered and followed them to interrogate the Autobot prisoner. Cyclonus was beginning the questioning himself so she was not about to interrupt. She quietly took notes on what was being discussed.

Fort Tenebrous -- Holding Cells

Growling, Scourge had already taken a menacing step forward before stopping himself. Crimson optics were narrowed with barely-contained fury, and yet the Sweep commander reigned himself in even as his heat-laser rifle appeared in hand. He let Scattershot stare down the barrel of the rifle for several moments, then slowly lowered it, stepping back and turning towards Cyclonus.

“I have a better idea, Cyclonus,” he says. “We’re wasting resources put to better use elsewhere keeping these Autobot scraps functional for the questionable intelligence they could provide.” The heat-laser rifle disappears, and he holds up a taloned hand. “Gut them instead. Set up a broadcast feed to this cell, let them watch as their “friends” die--” the emphasis made with quote marks from his clawed fingers “--and make certain they all know as they’re executed that it’s because these pathetic slagheaps are willing to sacrifice their lives, just so they can live a little longer and continue cracking their jokes.”

His head turns back towards Scattershot again with a smirk. “How many of your so-called “friends” are you willing to watch die, I wonder?”

Unknown Location – Inside Fishing Vessel Hold

Systems powered up, coming on-line once again. Darkness, previously providing an impenetrable curtain drawn to conceal the outside world from optics, lifted, unveiling a mixture of light, colour, and complex shapes all gradually gaining distinction. A moment later, Hosehead's vision was completely restored and functioning, adjusted to the dimness with ease.

Rising from the floor, he found that he could not stand at full height. The ceiling, looming above and staring down at him, denied Hosehead the simple position of erect posture. He sat down and scanned the enclosed area. It didn't offer much regarding space, Hosehead's bulky physique alone claiming a good deal of what was available.

He wasn't worried about himself, though. His actuator reached out seeking the familiar touch of metal and was rewarded with contact. Skyhammer was by his side, unharmed. Hosehead felt relief wash over him, numbing the concerns beginning to sting his easily-aggravated case of anxiety.

It was only now that Hosehead noticed Nightbeat seated on the floor across from him, leaning against a wall. Had he been on-line for long? What if he had been waiting for Hosehead for a while?

No. Not possible. They had both shut their systems down for a designated period of time, no more than a breem if he remembered correctly.

“Nightbeat!” Hosehead wanted to crawl closer, to sit next to his friend, but the lack of space didn't allow for it. “Where are we? And how do we get out of here?”

Beneath Fortress Tenebrous

It was foolish of the Autobot to think he could do this much and avoid detection, especially when he was being hunted and especially when his modus operandi was well known. Treadshot had to simply wait for Nosecone to make his move. It had taken a little work, but he had discovered the network of tunnels being created underneath the Decepticon base. Apparently he was planning to collapse some key areas to help free his comrades. Frankly Treadshot wasn’t convinced it would work even if he were allowed to finish.

The Decepticon had followed after Nosecone for some time. It was a little tricky navigating the various tunnels, but once he found the most recently dug ones he followed them until he was behind the Technobot. Two precisely aimed shots at his treads stopped him in his tracks, followed by an EMP grenade he had taken from the fortress armory put the Bot down cold.

With the Autobot helpless Treadshot called in some grunts to drag him away. The gunslinger didn’t hang around to watch him get thrown in with his teammates though. The trip to Nebulos hadn’t been nearly as profitable as he had hoped. Once his payment was added to his account he was off plant on his own personal shuttle along with his partner Catgut. It was time to find somewhere with more regular and profitable work.

OOC: Done at the request of Cryhavok to help move the thread along.

Tenebrous

"The slag yer moping at?" Apeface grunted at Snapdragon's question. He was not used to the reptilian Horrorcon to voice concerns like that. In fact, he found thinking about the future rather wasteful course of action altogether. Here and now, that was how he had chosen to approach life. Sure, he had his ambitions and dreams but as long as there were Autobots to be fought, he saw little to no reason to think of his future position in the Decepticon Empire.

"There is no end in sight for the civil war." Apeface added, leaning his back against the nearby wall and crossing his arms. "And to quote big M himself as he writes in Towards peace: My weapon is my burden; A reminder of the path I was forced to take. When the word 'weapon' is emptied of meaning, when the purpose of a weapon is impossible to grasp; when rejection of my weapon is of significance to no one other than myself... Only then shall I remove it from my arm. Because only then will I have earned the right to rid myself of my burden."

The visor protecting Apeface's optics flashed brightly as his gaze focused on Snapdragon's optics. "Megatron has never lost the sight of his goals. He may have taken steps backwards or away from the path but he has always returned twice as determined as before. And as long as Megatron leads us, do you honestly see conflicts coming to an end? The war won't be over when the last Autobot falls. It will be over when Megatron tells us so."

Tenebrous--Holding Cell

Soul Siren had remained silent for the moment, likely pondering the best way to go about getting the information that Cyclonus had requested she obtain from these captives. He was confidant that she would do so, and thus did not not prod her any further.

Scourge's recommendation, however, did bring a slight smirk to the air warrior's face.

"If Soul Siren's interrogative tactics produce no results, then I have no objection to doing it your way. On this planet, at least, we can afford to waste a few resources. We will get much in return. Come," Cyclonus said, motioning for the Tracker to follow him. Ahead, Cyclonus could see a pair of Seekers and a Sweep approaching, carrying what appeared to be yet another Technobot in hand.

"Treadshot caught another one," the Sweep reported, saluting his leader Scourge.

"Where?" Cyclonus asked.

"Tunneling under the fortress. But not for long."

"I would hope not...for the sake of those whose responsibility it is to patrol those areas," Cyclonus said, looking downward at the floor beneath him and thinking about what other potential security breaches could be made in this fortress. "Put him with the others."

He began to walk away before stopping and turning to face the other Decepticons.

"Securely."
___

Priority-4 transmission from Reflector to Soul Siren

>>"That Technobot leader certainly is a chatty thing, taunting Cyclonus like that. I can not help but wonder if he would take the same approach if Scorponok were here. Perhaps he is that glitched,"<< Reflector transmitted to Soul Siren. >>"Let me know if these is any assistance I can render from my current location. This particular batch of refugees seems rather...obstinate."<<

Deep Beneath Tenebrous

To say Nosecone wasn't expecting company would be an outright lie. But Nosecone lacked the supplies to hold them off, so he did not physically resist Treadshot when he came to assassinate collect Nosecone.

"I hope you break your spine trying to lift me you little-!" Nosecone was cut off by the grenade that Treadshot tossed.

And then, darkness...

*****

Unknown Location - Inside Fishing Vessel Hold

Nightbeat turned on his wrist-lights to see the area better. Light bathed the room, something much needed so he may work out the next phase of his plan.

He panned the light over the area. There was reflection of a lateral line across the floor. Nightbeat panned again and saw the same reflection. He knew what this meant.

Next he looked around the room and saw that they were submerged in water. He saw various kinds of large fish and shrimp in the small hold they found themselves in. He knew what this meant as well.

"Hosehead, do you see those animals?" Nightbeat shined his light on them, "I know for a fact that you have recognized we are submerged. This can only mean that this is a fishing vessel and we are in its hold."

"As for our exit, only time can grant us this. That is a seam," Nightbeat then shone his light on the line across the floor, "Which can only mean that when this craft reaches our destination that we will be dumped on a sorting table for the natives to sort through their catch."

"Once there, we will no doubt be taken prisoner by the natives. Word travels fast about us Transformers, and I have no doubts that there will be those who are hostile towards us," Nightbeat doused his lights and continued, "It is imperative that we speak to their leader and gain his trust, for we cannot afford for them to report us to the Decepticons."

Nightbeat then waited for his partner's response.

Lake Nimbus

Standing over the very same cliff Nightbeat and Hosehead had thrown themselves off, Barrage watched grimly as the Pestilence's tractor beams combed the lake below. While Barrage had been the one to contact Venom to bring the chase to an end, he would have preferred to see the destroyer's weapons vaporizing the whole water mass to get the Autobots. Bombshell however had decided otherwise, he obviously wanted the Autobots alive. It certainly wasn't unheard of the psychological warfare specialist. He was known for his twisted genius. At least once Bombshell would get what he wanted from whoever he interrogated, the results tended to be most entertaining.

It did take some time but in the end, there was no escape for a mere Nebulan fishing vessel from the Insecticons. The murky waters of the lake Nimbus had been able to hide the fishing vessel only for so long. Not that it had been the only construct the tractor beams had pulled out of the lake. Still, Nebulans seemed to be pretty environmentally conscious bunch. It was as if they had removed their sunken ships and other constructs from the lake themselves over time. Not that it mattered. The Insecticons had found their price.

Under the gentle and yet unbreakable grip of the tractor beams, three submerged fishing vessels were forcibly lifted from the depths of the lake and then carefully placed on the lake bank where the Insecticon horde was waiting. Finally. Nightbeat had certainly led them for a merry chase but had he really thought he could evade an army of Insecticons alone? How arrogant the Autobot had to be to think he could get away from them? Again, it did not matter. He would run no longer.

"Tear them open!"

At Barrage's command, dozens of his clones rushed at the fishing vessels alongside clones of his Insecticon brethen. Despite their insect mode size, it would be only matter of seconds until they'd have eaten their way in.

Tenebrous--Holding Cell

Scattershot shrugged his shoulders and shook his head negatively. "Come now, you expect me to respond to that? You really don't know what you are doing... do you?" He cocked a smirk as the doors on the far side of the hold slid open dragging a little worse for wear Nosecone. Inwardly he praised the makers that his fellow officer was not offline, outwardly however his face contoured into one of disappointment. He had ordered the former Miner to stand down when he had, though he appreciated the initiative, Scattershot did not like the idea of his commands being disregarded.

The force barrier briefly deactivated as the drill was thrown unceremoniously into the cell and was abruptly returned to full strength before its occupants could mount a surprise counter offensive. Scattershot mused at the idea before disregarding it. He had his strength and functioning limbs, but without his transformation protocols, he was pretty much relegated to a vulnerable form. Besides, he needed information. Even if it meant behind bars, stinking Decepticon crafted filth covered bars, Scattershot knew full well that if he bode his time he would learn a good deal more than he would have smashing and bashing every smug Decepticon trash in the facility. Damn that Fortress Maximus was starting to rub off and the Technobot hated the idea though his expression remained confident and rebellious towards his departing captives.

"Well it seems our family is almost whole." He spoke as the doors secured shut behind the Decepticons. It wasn't even the beginning of their interrogation proceedings, they all knew that. The presence of Scourge and Cyclonus was merely a formality to evaluate what it may take to get them to crack. Unfortunately, regardless of how good each member of his crew was... hand picked for the most part to fill the ranks and positions of the Far Star, even the hardiest Autobot couldn't take eons of torture that most Decepticon interrogators had planned.

Scattershot knelt down next to Nosecone and placed his hand on the Autobot's back. "You made a valiant effort Nosecone. Next time however, try to avoid the emotional trauma you placed on poor Afterburner and follow orders. Poor gunner was worried sick about you." He crafted a confident and approving smile as he helped his subordinate up.

"Lightspeed, I trust you have compiled those lists I asked you to gather. We may not have all the parts on hand, though we'll have something. I am sure we'll get our chance to get the rest later on down the road."

"Strafe, help Nosecone over to the bench, and give him a rundown of what level of mess we're in. In the meantime, Afterburner and I will try and give this place a once over. Perhaps we can find a way to communicate with the other cells."

Tenebrous - Holding Cell

Strafe had remained silent while sitting against a far wall of the cell as Scattershot attempted to taunt the Decepticons that had gathered just outside of the force barrier. Cyclonus and Scourge he recognized instantly, but there was another he was unfamiliar with. Soul Siren was the name of the Decepticon femme standing with them, and she was apparently an interrogator to boot. Oh, joy! I’m going to be questioned and dissected by a femme. I don’t know if I should shudder or blush. Maybe both!

The thoughts of the high-strung mech were interrupted by the sudden arrival of a half conscious Nosecone, who had been trying in vain to dig underneath the Decepticon fortress. Thankfully, he was not terminated on sight when discovered by the enemy. Strafe’s optics flashed from the driller up to Scattershot when the Technobot leader ordered him to help Nosecone over to a bench. “No problem, sir,” the aerial gunner replied as he pushed himself to his feet and gave a weakened salute. His body was still feeling the effects of the beating he had taken at the hands, and hook, of Lockdown. However, the nervous ‘Bot was at least doing much better than he had been before.

Moving over to his wounded teammate’s side, Strafe reached down and grabbed a hold of Nosecone, pulling him up by the arms until he was somewhat on his feet. “Come on, buddy, wake up! You’re with friends now,” the anxious flier said as he slowly and carefully drug his limp friend over to the nearest bench and sat him down. “There ya go. You’ll be fine, Nosey. Just relax. We’re in a holding cell inside of the Decepticon fortress. The bad guys and one gal are trying to decide what to do with us, but my energon’s on torture, interrogation, more torture and likely death at some point. Now, aren’t you glad you joined us?”

Strafe forced a faux smile as he patted Nosecone on the back. The aerial gunner’s attempt at humor was only to help mask the true feeling of despair and anxiety that was growing deep within his circuits. He didn’t expect to make it out of this situation alive, much less intact in any way. Sure, the Technobots had been in dire straights before, but this time felt different. This time felt like the end of the line for all of them.

Tenebrous--Holding Cell

"Thank you for your assistance as always Reflector. Please send me any mental evaluations we have to the Technobot team that we have available. I have a play in mind for this particular game."

She replied to the Reflector trio as she turned towards Cyclonus and Scourge. What she was about to do carried a degree of danger, if the commander did not understand she would be destroyed. However, Cyclonus was one of the more intelligent Decepticons so she was sure he would understand.

"Commander Cyclonus, sir, the Autobot is correct. We should not expect him to answer those questions. As commander of the local forces he is entitled to be treated with the dignity due his rank."

She said in a clear voice, wanting to be heard by Scattershot and the other Autobots in the cells. She turned to the guards as they took him to the cell.

"You all, treat that prisoner with more respect. Make sure he is not scratched."

She turned back to Cyclonus and Scourge, keeping her clear tone.

"I am sure we can obtain the information from the other Autobots here."

Tenebrous

"Doesn't matter who can or can't end a war when it is no longer worth winning and I'm starting to think we are getting close to that time."

Snapdragon shrugged.

"Slag it, doesn't matter anyway. Nothing we can do about it. Lets go get that oil bath we are due."

Tenebrous--Holding Cell

Lightspeed had worked his way through every other Technobot in the room save for the recent arrival of Nosecone. Thankfully, whatever had happened to their fellow Technobot, it didn't appear to be as brutal as the treatment they had received at the hands of the Horrorcons. The list of who needed what components in order to get back to an optimum state was pretty extensive. The list of who needed what in order to get back to an acceptably functioning state, well, that list was more manageable. Lightspeed had quick access to either, just in case.

"Got it," Lightspeed had said. "Looks like we can bum some things off Nosecone. He appears to be fresh out of the batch proto initiator."

An exaggeration, but not a big one. Lightspeed grinned and looked over in Nosecone's direction.

"You tried to tunnel under this place?" Lightspeed asked, curious as to what their Technobot brother might have tried during his attempt at an escape. "That's...that's awesome. Heh. I wish it'd worked."
___

Cyclonus stopped, briefly turning back to acknowledge Soul Siren's statement. The Technobot leader, it seemed, was more willfully stubborn than Cyclonus had expected. He had not had extensive dealings with he or his team before. It would be good reference for future engagements--on the unlikely chance that any of them walked away from this alive.

"Understood, Soul Siren. I want that information. However you get it and whomever you get it from...that is your domain. I will leave that in your capable hands."

He spared a brief glance at Scourge before continuing to walk in his earlier direction.
___

>>"Retrieving preliminary psychological profiles now, Soul Siren,"<< Reflector transmitted back, accessing the database the Decepticons kept on every known and active Autobot in the war effort, just as they surely did on the Decepticons. With everything in the orbital region of this planet pretty well under control, this little interrogation had now managed to garner the majority of his attention. He was very interested in hearing who ultimately spilled the information that the Decepticons wanted or...what their fate would be if they did not.

>>"Uploading. Enjoy."<<
___

The first thing he noticed were the energon percentage readings in the bottom right corner of his right optic. Rad's systems were doing whatever they could to reroute what little energon he had left in to his most critical systems. After an indeterminate amount of time, that process had finally lead to his optics onlining once more. The sight that greeted him once he was finally able to do so wasn't exactly the best, but he'd seen worse. He was in a cell now. A fairly large holding cell, but still just one. Which meant that they were...oh, that's right...the battle....they were Decepticon prisoners now. Fantastic.

"Decepticons...economizing?" Rad barely grunted out, pushing himself up a little against the nearest wall, otherwise still pretty much just laying sprawled out on the floor. "I thought their bases were always just one big prison with a little command center in the middle."

They are, really. The 'Cons walking around inside them just don't seem to realize that they're prisoners, too.

Fort Tenebrous -- Holding Cells

Scourge apparently had to control himself -- he looked ready to snap at Scattershot at first at the face of his continued defiance, especially when it became clear that the Technobot commander seemed to be calling his bluff. He seemed ready to retort when Soul Siren suddenly asserted herself, and his narrowed crimson optics focused on her.

It was only Cyclonus's look that kept him quiet, and angrily he whirled around, stalking off alongside the larger purple 'mech. For several moments he remains silent, but finally he can no longer keep his thoughts to himself.

"I seem to recall hearing someone once say 'compassion is the Autobots' downfall'," he commented in as cool a tone as he could muster under the circumstances. "As prisoners, they are a waste of our resources, and it's clear that they're willing to sacrifice themselves for their supposed 'noble goal'. And yet, what are we showing them but compassion? We could spend untold millennia trying to discover their secrets and be assured of absolutely nothing. Treating them with respect, Cyclonus, is asking for trouble."

Lake Nimbus

The Insecticon swarm had been eagerly awaiting the retrieval of the rogue Autobots. The words "merry chase" had begun to trickle their way through the ranks of the diaclones, until the words themselves carried something of an eerie echo as Bombshell waded his way through the horde.

Venom had--at long last--proven that he did have some identifiable usefulness within their ranks. His time on this planet had caused him to have some serious doubts in that regard, but they had been lessened now.

Bombshell had not really been concerned. The swarm would have caught up with these Autobot strays wherever they chose to hide, be it in the forests or the mountains or even the lakes.

Barrage's drones had done a satisfactory job of cleaving their way in to the fishing vessels even as dozens of other Insecticons climbed and crawled all over them. Kickback silently directed his clones to monitor any traditional or non-traditional exit to the vehicles while Bombshell stalked forward, poking his head through the first sizable opening that Barrage's diaclones had tore open as they then began to spill inside.

"Knock, knock...anyone home?"

Tenebrous – Holding Cell

Growing bored with simply performing menial tasks and watching all the other ‘Cons having some kind of fun, Black Shadow decided that it was time to take some initiative and instill his own methods of what he considered exciting.

He and his cohort had made their way through the new pristine halls of the Fortress and finally came upon the facilities brig. Here is where he would find the entertainment he had been searching for.

Within five separate cells sat the members of the Autobot Tactical Response Team…the very same mechs and femmes that had been dragged in only cycles ago. Oh yes this would be most enjoyable.

Black Shadow took his time while strolling in…stopping momentarily to look in each cell. He carried with him a sinister smile which was paired with equally devious optics. Like a predatory cyber hawk the Infiltration Unit Commander pressed on until he came to the final cell. There sat the downtrodden form of the team’s commander…Spartan. It was sad really…just how easily they had been brought down…not even a challenge. Black Shadow had thought more of the team…especially their leader. He talked the talk but what it all boiled down to was actually backing up ones claims and Spartan failed to do so…miserably...what was that referred to as again...ah yes, walking the walk.

So here he sat head lowered in utter defeat…his team locked up thanks to his own ineptitude. The smile that adorned Black Shadow’s face melted into something more dangerous…darker. He stared hard at the black and red mech.

“You were pathetic back there…you do know that don’t you.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement that even Spartan had to admit to.

“It’s alright Spartan you need not answer. Besides you and I already know the truth. You failed and you can’t comprehend just how to feel about that or more importantly...how it even happened.”

Black Shadow flashed the Autobot a broad genuine smile. He gestured flamboyantly at the other four cells that contained each member of his team.

“I’m going to give you a chance to save face. I want you to admit that you, and your worthless team, were a poor excuse for an elite tactical unit. That you failed in your goals. How does that sound? Fun, right?”

Spartan never responded. It was then that Blue Bacchus finally spoke up from his location leaning nonchalantly against the wall behind his overly zealous partner.

“You do realize that he’s not going to say anything to you…right? The mech’s obviously confused as to how any of this could have transpired. Why not just cut to the chase and be done with it.”

The black and red Decepticon kept his optics trained on Spartan as he addressed the mech perched directly behind him.

“And where would the fun be in that Blue? I’d much rather spend my time with him…you know…educate him on just how I work my magic, but more importantly, why I work my magic.”

Blue Bacchus gave a deep shoulder shrug even though Black Shadow could not see him. He had known from the beginning, when Black Shadow had taken the liberty to traverse the halls, to these cells, that he would bear witness to some kind of brutal behavior by his associate.

“Suit yourself. But you might want to perform your work in a much larger location. After all, things will get messy.”

The Commander kept his optics glued to Spartan as his right hand entered the code to unlock the cell’s bars which quickly dissipated into the ceiling and floor. Black Shadow then entered the cramped room...his steps slow and meticulous.

“I do believe you’re right Blue. What say you Autobot? Shall we retire to a much cozier locale?”

He didn’t even wait for any kind of response after all he knew he would never get one. Instead the Commander stepped in and slammed the palm of his hand onto the Spartan’s head and squeezed creating deep dents which he used as a makeshift hand grip. Spartan had struggled slightly grabbing hold of the Decepticon’s wrist but with the lack of energy the gesture only came across as a minor nuisance.

“Come Autobot, I’ve some things to discuss with you.”

With that the black and red mech was dragged harshly out of his cell and taken to a new location not far from the others. After all what kind of host would he be if he did not include the other Autobots. They would hear everything. Blue Bacchus followed closely behind. This was something he refused to miss.
____

Fortress Tenebrous

It seemed as though the two Technobots that he had captured and delivered were not worth any more than a few measly credits. Not nearly enough to even put toward a few new upgrades. Although he was disappointed in his own performance and the lack of funds, Lockdown decided to take the loss and move on to his next engagement. If the Decepticons had need of his services they certainly knew how to get in contact with him.

“You’re right, Turmoil. I think I will get back to work.”

Lockdown turned on his heel and began to make for the exit. He sent a dismissive wave over his shoulder as he passed through the doors.

“You know how to find me should you require my services at a later date. Perhaps next time we can discuss a more preferable payment plan.”

The doors closed behind the bounty hunter before Turmoil responded. From the Fortress Lockdown would make his way to the Death’s Head’s location.

Lake Nimbus

Listening to Nightbeat, his smooth tone effortlessly gliding from one sentence to the next, Hosehead wished that he had been ingrained with the coolness his friend emanated. He didn't know how Nightbeat did it, how he remained so calm even in the most dire of situations. And this situation was no exception.

Hosehead opened his oral cavity to reply to the detective when a sudden trembling seized the fishing vessel, robbing him of a response. While a terrible quaking did not overwhelm the vessel, it nonetheless shivered continuously, appearing to be aware of the unfolding event, of the peril attached to it. Hosehead then felt gravity throw itself upon him, as though intent on pushing him down, forcing him to the floor.

He kept his balance, despite the combined efforts of the persistent shaking and gravity's determination to force him to the floor. Because of his line of work—formally serving in Iacon's Emergency Rescue Department—instinct told him to prepare himself for what was coming.

He looked at Nightbeat. “Now what? We can't even catch ten astroseconds of peace before—”

The walls. Sounds could be heard on the other sides of them. Clinks. Clanks. Various other disturbing noises Hosehead couldn't quite identify, but knew who they belonged to.

The Insecticons had discovered them.

The sounds increased in repetition and volume. They were attempting to gain entry into the vessel's hold. And if their joyous chittering were any indication of their attempt then success was being achieved.

“Not good.” Hosehead took a step back from the wall he faced. “Not good at all.” He glanced at Nightbeat. “Please tell me you have a bright idea right about now. Being eaten alive by the Insecticons definitely wasn't on my schedule.”

Then they broke through. Hosehead watched as the Diaclones seeped through the holes in the walls, one after the other, a constant stream of eager mandibles and ravenous appetites pouring into the hold.

So many bugs. So little time to decide on the right course of action. But blowing them away seemed to be close enough.

Withdrawing his laser pistols from his sub-space compartments, Hosehead opened fire on the Diaclones, destroying as many of the vile creatures as he possibly could. Though his aim could not be compared to that of Sureshot's or Slingshot's—both of whom whose sharpshooting capabilities were among some of the finest within the Autobot ranks—his pistols still located their targets and eliminated them owing to an abundance of the enemy.

Knock, knock...anyone home?

Preoccupied with the destruction of the Diaclones and his friends' safety, Hosehead failed to notice the Insecticon addressing them in a mocking tone. The Insecticon did not precisely resemble the intruding Diaclones in appearance, but that didn't matter. He was still filthy like the rest of them and deserved to be squashed.

Hosehead swung his pistols around, aiming them at Bombshell. “Don't you know that you're supposed to wait after knocking?” He squeezed the triggers of his two pistols.

Accurate or not, it would stall Bombshell, even for just a moment. But Hosehead realised that they would need more than a mere moment to escape the clutches of their pursuers. They would need a miracle.

Bottom of the Ocean

"I get the strangest sense that we're not alone," one of the Autobots said to another as they continued to put as much distance between themselves and their escape pod as possible.

"Wouldn't slaggin' surprise me," another said. "They were in orbit. They were on land. They prolly got a slaggin' base. They're gonna slaggin' hunt us down and shove our slaggin' gears down our slaggin' throats!"

"Slag...that blows pipe."

"Yeah, you better slaggin' believe it."

"Close your mouth and keep your optics open, or you're gonna get us 'slaggin'' kill--"

"Seacons!" another one of the Autobot refugees from the Farstar cried out, firing in the direction of the rippling shapes deep underneath the waters of this strange planet.

Slag. They really were everywhere.
___

Tenebrous--Holding Cell

"Looks like they...can't figure out...who's....the interrogator. Heh," Lightspeed said, watching as pointy-head and his bearded friend stalked off. His optics calmly settled on the form of Soul Siren. In another time in history, she might have actually been a strikingly attractive femme. All that went out the window with her Decepticon badge, though. Still, didn't hurt to look.

"Eh, maybe they did figure it out," he added, looking her over.

Tenebrous--Corridors

As the warrior and the tracker slowly trekked down the hallways of the Decepticons' recently established central base of operations on this planet, Scourge's most recent comment could not but elicit a small smirk on the chiseled, angular features of Cyclonus' face.

"You might be right this time," Cyclonus said, the fact that he had not struck the blue Decepticon down where he stood being a testament to the eons of history between the two mechs. Scattershot might prove to be more obstinate than either he or his team were worth.

"We will try it this way for a while longer. If Soul Siren's efforts yield nothing, I will turn them over to you and I will continue to methodically eradicate the Autobot presence on this planet as I have done since arriving here. Through other means. My tolerance, not compassion, will come to a natural end.

"However...we can not allow ourselves to be too distracted by their presence. That was the danger all along once their existence on this world was discovered. There are still larger reasons why High Commander Scorponok originally selected this world. I would see those ends realized, so that the engine of Decepticon conquest gains another thruster."

Cyclonus was referring to the shipyard that would eventually be constructed on a world such as this--one that was ripe with natural resources and utterly unable to defend itself. That was the true objective. Chasing Autobots, from the first time they had made their presence known in Koraja, was merely a distraction from their ultimate ends.

En route to the command center, Cyclonus was eager to begin steering this ship back on course.