Garrus-9, Southern Wing--Steelhaven Breach Point
He had seen these two monsters before. Way back when most of Cybertronians hadn't even considered the possibility of a civil war brewing in the pits of Kaon. It had been harmless fun for the masses. Pit fighting that was. Something far more exciting than any of the sanctioned combat sports. Sure, it hadn't been exactly legal and the Senate had publicly denounced it. But still, little the Senate had put in little effort in tracking down and closing these gladiatorial events. Likely because some senators were themselves either financially involved with the profitable market or bribed to look the other way. And Drainor? He had been an avid fan of these fighting events. Buying the holovids, live-streams and even occasionally travelling to Kaon to witness a big event live with his own optics.
He had seen all the greats. Megatron. Clench. Grimlock. Killmaster. Lugnut. Overlord. Razorclaw. Snaptrap. Terrorcon. The deaths and energon spilled in the pits had not meant anything to him other than the ecstasy and thrill of the moment. He had probably even chanted with the other spectators in favor of the winner taking the life of the loser more often than not. Then the war began. And his former idols went on a killing spree across the planet, now calling themselves the Decepticons. Death and destruction were now brought to his face instead of being chained into the pits. No place was safe anymore. You couldn't just walk away and live your life. You had to choose a side. And when the time came, the choice had been far easier than he had thought possible. He had found out that he very much preferred the old way of things to these revolutionists. He did not want to see Cybertron burn.
And now he was making a stand against one of the most despicable and powerful gladiators he had ever seen in the pits. The Terrorcon. A cannibalistic monster whom Drainor could very recall being the centerpiece of several dozen of rumors involving sparkeater conspiracy theories. And the Terrorcon was not alone. No, alongside the hulking two-headed dragon stood his often tag-team partner, a filthy brute whom had been known as Blight. Or Blot behind his back. A powerful gladiator on his own right but far too thick in the upstairs to be one of the greats.
Drainor knew he didn't stand a chance. But the only thing he had was hope. Perhaps reinforcements Rocktread had promised would make big enough difference. They had to. He wanted to live.
Scroller's screams died out. The Terrorcons had finished torturing their first meal upon entering Garrus-9. They had moved past Scroller's pain receptors.
Blight appeared from the breach, obviously sent by the bigger Terrorcon to scout ahead. It didn't take long for the brute to take notice of Drainor and began lumbering forwards towards him. Drainor jumped out of his hidey-hole and found himself unloading burst after burst from his neutron rifle at the odd looking monstrosity while backing down. It appeared only to irritate the beast at best, as its lumbering turned into something akin of jogging. Panicking, Drainor turned around and began running away from the dark blue monster as fast as he could. A balcony. He had to get to one of the balconies. That monster couldn't possibly climb now could it? There. He saw couple of targeting lasers flashing by him from one of the balconies. Rocktread and the other guards. Guns spoke. Explosions followed. And roar of frustration from the monster chasing him. Drainor turned to look behind. Blight was no where to be seen, having been swallowed by the darkness and smoke. Perhaps he still stood a chance. He just had to get to the upper levels, to the other Autobots.
The ground began trembling. Something big and heavy was moving in and fast. Drainor did not need a visual confirmation on the identity of the new attacker. The Terrorcon had finished its first meal and was looking out for more victims to feast upon. Flames reached up to the balconies swept away the darkness. Burning through the defenses of weaker guards even from such range. Drainor could only watch in horror as one of the Autobots on the balcony turned red hot from the immense heat and fell down, only to be snatched from mid-air by the powerful jaws of the Terrorcon. The balconies did not offer protection Drainor sought. Where the slag were their big guns? Where the slag was Fortress Maximus?
A hideous stench reached his olfactory sensors, followed by a sudden dreadful realization. How long had he been standing there mesmerized? Blight. Blight was upon him. Drainor found himself staring at the foul smelling monstrosity from eye to eye. Greasy, old lubricant pouring from every orifice of the monster had been set ablaze by laser fire. It had not stopped the creature that really didn't deserve to be called a Cybertronian. Drainor swung his rifle at the beast's snout with all of his might - the impact actually being strong and surprising enough to turn Blight's head slightly to left. Slightly. Before Drainor could make a run for it, Blight reached out with his massive arms and yanked him off the ground, only to smash him violently against the ground. Once. Twice. The first smash had almost been enough. The second one made Drainor lose his consciousness. But not before hearing someone to address the Terrorcon and mention the name Monstercons.
"I need to do nothing Snaptrrrap." Hun-Gurrr growled, barely bothering to remove either of his two mouths from his current source of nourishment. "But I'll let you humorrr me if you keep the carrrnage alive."
The crunching sound captured Hun-Grrr's attention, one of his head turning to look at its source. Blot. The smaller Terrorcon was holding a limb body of an Autobot in his claws. A headless body of an Autobot, for whatever was left of the guard's head was obviously enough inside Blot's mouth.
"Yes. I wish to see if these Monsterrrcons are worrrthy of theirrr name."