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Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

"As you command sir." Soul Siren said and followed her Commander which was always a challenge for her. There is no one she would rather be serving than Scorponok but, at the same time, she did not want to think about how ridiculous she looked trying to keep up with someone so much bigger than her.

Semper Tyrannis--Hangar

Snapdragon walked through the hangar watching the soldiers who were awaiting their turn to attack. He sensed nervousness and some fear among them, emotions that were completely foreign to the Horrorcons. This own thoughts were filled with the promise of something that might resemble a challenge. Still, he figured he should say something.

"Alright slag-heads. Soon we are going through those doors. Some of you might win glory and some of you might win death. Just keep in mind that a 50/50 chance is still better than the certainty of me personally tearing you apart if I see you running."

He said sharply.

"The Autobots down there are not going to be terminating themselves so I want you all to go down there and tear them apart like animals!"

As Snapdragon finished speaking a side door to the Hangar burst open and Cutthroat in bird form burst in screaming for carnage and rushing towards the door.

Snapdragon sighed.

"I did not mean literally!"

He quickly moved over and put Cutthroat in a headlock, held on with his considerable strength. He was powerfuly but he knew Cutthroat's talons and claws where not to be underestimated so he carefully held him from behind where he could not reach him. He looked towards Apeface.

"Hun-Grr needs to get back here and pick up his lost Terrorcon."

Garrus-9 Solitary Confinement

Time had no meaning days flitted past like hours months liked days Bludgeon was only concerned with when he got out not if he got out. He was sat cross legged like always in quiet contemplation his optics closed when something tugged at his mind something was occurring above. The formerly dim optics started to come back to life as he unfolded his legs and stretched his servos a ghost of a smile appeared at the edge of his mouth as he recognised the sensation conflict had come to Garrus-9.

The electric warrior was glad there might be opportunities to test himself against the best fighters the galaxy had to offer once again. But that would have to wait until the proper time Bludgeon sat back down and cross his legs again his optics faded to grey again until the time came for him to utilise his formidable skills that had earned him his reputation.

Garrus-9 – Southern Wing – Cell Block M

Okay, so Wildfly couldn't see Cell Blocks K and L directly, but if he were standing outside his cell, a more complete view would reveal they were located opposite his block, on two different levels layered upon one another. The excitement of it all painted such beautiful pictures in his processor's optic, he could almost believe he was witnessing the unfolding event with his own vision.

The shouts. The jeers. The dissonant chorus of fists crashing against doors and walls. The rapid footfalls of the guards. The guards issuing commands to the prisoners, ordering them to pipe down and sit tight.

Like his block, Wildfly could hear that the same sounds were occurring over on blocks K and L, too. Suddenly, he wondered if the entire penitentiary were afflicted by this situation. The amount of noise going on made it possible.

Well then. This was good, indeed, even if only several blocks were involved in this situation. Mixing up the dull routine suited Wildfly just fine. He wished it happened more often.

Still largely ignorant, however, Wildfly waited by the cell door. A guard or two might race by, and might give voice to snippets of the current events that had created this stir in the Garrus-9 penitentiary.

Garrus 9 – Cell Block B

Once more the reluctant surveillance mech took a glance over his shoulder ensuring that he wasn’t being watched, or worse. Regulator had just let out a relieved breath when the femme behind the heavy cell door spoke.

He quickly turned his head and glared up at the small window on the door. Did she just call him “Reg”? The orange and red ‘Bot sent a scowl up at the ‘Con before he pressed in closer to the cell’s door. “Look, whoever you are, I don’t have any clue what’s happening and even if I did I probably wouldn’t reveal it to a ‘Con.” He let out a heavy sigh and gently placed both palms on the smooth, cold surface of the metal. Things were getting complicated and right now, he wanted no part of it. Except he had no other choice. He was already in up to his neck.

“I don’t know what’s going on. I know about as much as you do. Maybe less. I’m not a guard I work in surveillance.” He groaned lowly. “I’m a desk jockey. I stare at video feeds all day. I can’t even remember the last time I held a gun.” He threw his hands up to emphasize his frustration. Regulator paced for a moment or two and then stopped looking down at the crate he had set down earlier. “The crates. Ammo. The only thing I can think of is some kind of attack. I’m just not sure by who or how we’re even fairing.” Regulator turned his optics to the limited view he had of Stingray.

The mech’s brow furrowed as he took a step forward. He paused for a moment as he glared up and into the window. “You called me Reg before. Don’t do it again. My brother’s the only one who can call me Reg. Okay?”

****

The former police officer placed one hand against the door frame of the Autobot prisoner’s cell and leaned in. One ankle was casually crossed over its opposite while he peered inside the cell. The smirk on the hulking officer’s face grew wide when Umbra tried to intimidate him. It was rather pathetic.

“As a matter of fact, I do have something better to do…” Mandate let out a hearty chuckle as he took a quick look over his shoulder and back into the cell. His laughter stopped and the smirk that had graced the mech’s face only moments before was replaced by a deep scowl. “I do know you. I know all of your kind. Nothing but worthless gutter trash the lot of you.” He ground out.

He pushed back and away from the door frame, far enough so Umbra would not be able to see him standing in the shadows of the block. He said nothing. Instead he let whatever silence was able to make it through the cacophonous clatter of the prison slip into the area.

Finally a full breem passed and Mandate’s deep voice filled the immediate area. “Your kind…when the war broke out your kind was the first to step up. Commendable, I’ll admit that much.” His voice lowered to a dangerous level. “And then when things started to get rough your kind panicked. You wound up cowering under tables with your heads in your hands and incoherent blathering spewing from your vocalizers.” Mandate grunted in disgust.

“Your kind was the first to turn on us.” The sound of his footfalls grew closer to the cell’s door. Each step was deliberate. “You may wear an Autobot’s badge, but as far as I’m concerned you’re nothing but a piece of slag ‘Con.” He slammed both palms hard against the door’s frame. “That’s what you are, my little turncoat.” He smiled wickedly. “Kill a ‘Bot get the death penalty. Unfortunately that wasn’t the sentence that was handed down. But I’ve got no problem alleviating that discrepancy.” Mandate’s optics narrowed into deep blue slits while his baritone laugh worked through the block.

Garrus 9 - En route to the Last Resort

“Wait! Streamlight, slow down!” Rung jogged as quickly as his old legs could manage after the young guard. “Why are you taking this route, the Last Resort is the other way.” Rung finally caught up to the flier and gave him a sidelong glance. Streamlight didn’t respond to the psychologist’s worried query, instead he let a slightly uncomfortable silence fall between them. “Streamlight? Where are we going?” Came Rung’s much more demanding tone.

Streamlight gradually slowed his pace until he finally came to a stop. He raised his head and stared up at the ceiling while he released a heavy breath. Rung waited patiently for the young guard to gather his thoughts. “I wanna…it’s just…ugh! I just need to check on something, okay?” The last bit came out in a low tone. “Something or someone?” Rung questioned. The slim orange Autobot stepped up to his companion and placed his hand gently on Streamlight’s arm. “He can take care of himself. Kronus’ cell is located in the maximum security ward and that area’s in complete lockdown. You know that. He won’t be able to get out.”

A slight nod from Streamlight gave Rung reassurance that he had convinced the guard to abandon his attempt to get back to the prisoner he called his friend. “Okay. Let’s get to the Last Resort.” Bright blue optics met Rung…worry could easily be read in the young mech’s eyes. Rung let his shoulders slump slightly. “Streamlight, we have to go. Perhaps if we get to our destination and we can manage it, we can try to contact the command center to have them check the surveillance videos to make sure Kronus is faring well. Will that be okay?” Rung’s suggestion seemed to work as Streamlight perked up a bit and nodded in agreement. Pleased with the reaction Rung flashed the white and red flier a smile and began to lead them both back toward their intended location. With any luck the facility’s civilian staff and other non-military personnel will have found their way to the safe haven.

Garrus 9-Southern Wing--Block B

Stormwrecker chuckled a little, even if he didn't really know what for. Maybe it was as simple as the idea of an Autobot, any Autobot, getting punched in the face by another. Heh, yeah. That was probably it.

He had to do a quick run through his datatracks to call up the one that Vroom had mentioned, though. Prowl. He was one of the Autobot biggies, he knew that much. But he was also one of the ones that you never really heard much about. At least he never had. It was always Optimus Prime, Magnus, Ironhide or some 'Bot like that. The ones who were always out in the field and everyone knew when they were coming. Stormwrecker's little operation had never warranted the attention of someone like Prowl or any of the rest of the big Bots.

He remembered exchanging terse words with Brawn a time or two, so that was something at least.

"Prowl, eh? That's impressive, heh," Stormwrecker said, doing his best to block out the ever-growing ruckus that seemed to be overtaking the prison population in this block. He couldn't help but wonder if it was like this in the other blocks right now too. Just what in the slagging face of Primus was going on? "And just what the slag made that happen? I mean...I guess I don't care one way or 'nother, you just don't hear 'bout Autobots doin' that too often. Not out there. Happens in here quite a bit. But prison changes you. And not for the better, as I'm sure y'know."
___

Garrus 9 - Cell Block B

"Don't be too hard on him, Umbra. This is quite likely his last functioning cycle. He has to get his sizzles one way or the other," Icepick said, sighing wistfully as he continued to watch the growing clamor amongst the inmates in the various cell blocks, both above and below.

"You say something, freak?" another guard said, walking over to see what had caught his colleague's attention with the Autobot killing femme and now the monster gang member. Mandate was taking care of this Umbra mech. Guess the Monstercon was all his.

"Well come on," Icepick added, now staring at the additional guard while the other appeared to remain pre-occupied with Umbra. "I mean it's not that I blame you. I was trying to be genuine. You Autobots are kind of obligated, morally, to keep us alive. If that's Megatron out there--I think you know he's not under that obligation. He'll probably keep your warden alive. Maybe that pleasant psychiatrist we get to chat with every so often. One or two others. The rest of you, though? I think you guys are aware that there's only one Decepticon prison, right? We don't take too many prisoners."

"Yeah? Yeah!? Hey Tickswitch! Get this cell open. B-32!," the guard said, growing more frustrated as he called out to the cell control room.

"I'll show you who's seen his last functioning day, glitch."
___

The Steelhaven--Bridge

Cyclonus had smirked a little and nodded at Hungrr's response as he left and took his team to rejoin the core of the invasion effort. The purple mech stood quietly on the bridge for a moment, watching the battle as it raged on the viewscreen before turning and approaching the massive captain's chair, undoubtedly Fortress Maximus' own for when he was called to command the vessel and not protowatch a bunch of captives. As he approached the chair transformed certain aspects of its design and became a size that he could sit upon comfortably.

No sooner had he assumed the position than Scorponok's transmission came through. Cyclonus wasn't sure how deep he would be able to dig into this ship's command functions and what security measures had been put in place, but he had at least rendered it null from attacking other Decepticon forces. That would suffice for now.

>>"The Steelhaven is ours, commander. I will turn it over to a suitable lieutenant within the breem and join you in the Garrus assault."<<

As Cyclonus spoke, one of the beleaguered, near-dead Autobots quietly pulled himself across the floor of the bridge. For all intents and purposes, he appeared dead--wires protruding from various joints and panels, fluids of various colors leaking from an assortment of injuries and trailing along the floor behind him as he crawled, one barely functioning optic remaining.

But there was a spark remaining inside him, and that was all that mattered.

Reaching for the helm override controls, he began entering a series of emergency commands.

It was then that his activities caught Cyclonus' attention. Damnation. He was sure that every Autobot occupying the bridge was dead. He quickly stood to his feet but Banzaitron was closer.

"Banzaitron, kill that Autobot!" Cyclonus barked.
___

The Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

Reflector had known that the moment would be fast approaching whereby the mighty Scorponok would join the battle in full and he would be left to command the mightiest warship in the entirety of the 2nd Expansion Fleet.

Except he had not been. That honor had been bequeathed to Finback. And what was worse, he was not the only one who had recognized that such an action appeared to be something of a minor oversight. Treadshot's parting comment was evidence enough of that.

Simultaneously, the heads on each of the three units of Reflector's body turned to watch the departing Treadshot, their optics narrowing.
___

The Spirit of Wrath--Bridge

"You heard the commander!" Upjaw barked. "Back to Nebulos. Give this fraggin' shipyard somethin' to upgrade right off the slaggin' bat!"

He then opened a comm to the other commanding officers aboard their various ships.

>>"Give 'em slag fer me, 'Cons. All Hail Megatron!"<<

>>"All hail Megatron!"<< came the voice of one officer.

>>"All hail Megatron!!!!!"<<< came another.

>>"All hail Mega--"<<

But the closing words of the familiar victory hail were cut off as the destroyer had found itself unable to move out of the way of one of the incoming blasts from the massive defense cannons. It shredded the ship's outer defenses and quickly reacted with ship's hull, initiating an explosion the rocked several of the nearby vessels.

Upjaw for his part, remained calm as he watched the explosion die down on the viewscreen.

"Eh, we can't all be Megatron's favorites. Another possible spot for me. Get us to Nebulos, Tonfist, before that happens to us!"

"Aye sir!"

Garrus 9 - Cell Block B

'Well, then listen Regulator,' Stingray said, pressing the words through tightened lips, 'you'd best hook onto a comm channel because if the place is under siege, you wouldn't need to guess long to figure out who is coming.'

Stingray was glad her knees weren't visible through the vision slit. They were shaking. Who else would assault a prison like this where the vast majority of inmates were either prisoners or criminals of war? A war that had only two sides. And since it was the Autobots on the outside of the bars...

The seeker femme's optics darted left and right. Survival instincts kicked in and sought to overcome the fear, the cold shivers crawling up her spinal cord. She never would have guessed she'd once be so afraid of her former 'allegiance'. Was it really them? If it was, who was leading the strike? Were Stormtalon and the others with them? How much did they know of her giving away information to the Autobots?

She glanced back at Regulator and noticed a measure of realization flicker in his optics.

'That's right. Decepticons,' she said with a grim nod. 'If it's them, we're both in for some serious slag.'

Semper Tyrannis--Hangar

"Bravo! You really have a career as a motivational speaker waiting ahead Snaps. Such fury. Such vigor! And you didn't even forget some good old fashioned insults." Apeface joked, clapping his hands together as he approached Snapdragon in his primate form.

"Truly, once or twice in a vorn you remind me that behind the mask of a sloth there really is a spark of a drill instructor."

A snicker caught Apeface's attention, invoking a wide grin from the Horrorcon as at least someone had found his quip funny. However, Apeface felt some need to remind the trooper of his place and gestured him to shut up. While Apeface felt comfortable joking about his fellow Horrorcon, he really didn't need Snapdragon losing a gasket right now and wreck some poor soldier for daring to insult him with Apeface.

Luckily enough for Snapdragon's potential victims, that slag for brain module - Cutthroat, burst into the scene, provoking the reptilian Horrorcon into quick and decisive action.

"No doubt. Although we both know how it goes. Hun-Gurrr shows up, threatens to eat this little freak and we get blissful silence for maybe a breem tops before Cutthroat's tiny, overworked logic center resets and we have him jumping at the walls again. And Hungurr threatening to eat him again, if he bothers, heh." Apeface chuckled while staying comfortably away from the trashing wings and claws of the Terrorcon.

Semper Tyrannis-Hangar

Frighteningly on cue, the Terrorcons had bounced to their positions aboard the 2nd fleet flagship, fresh from their assault aboard the Steelhaven. They would not remain here long, as their primary role would be to engage in the assault of the prison itself. Sinnertwin was exceedingly ready to contribute to that effort, as the massacre aboard Fortress Maximus' ship had only left him thirsting for more fuel to spill.

Not even bothering to transform, the glowing red optics on both heads settled upon the form of Cutthroat, who was being wrestled into place and kept from attacking his fellow Decepticons only by the effort of an even more potent Horrorcon.

"Can't wait for the Autobots to really get a taste of us. And for us to really get a taste of them."
___

Elba plains--Approaching Garrus-9

Tentakil stormed across the open expanse of terrain, just like he and hundreds of other Decepticon warriors, weapons firing as the distance between them and their target destination grew steadily smaller.

Ahead, his optics scanned a multitude of Insecticon diaclones who were beginning to scale the walls or attempt to chew through them altogether while others were getting picked off by snipers and other Autobot soldiers before they could even get close.

Overhead, Tentakil could hear the telltale sound of a missile as it sailed through the air. He looked up to see the smoke contrail. It wasn't heading in precisely his direction, but it was going to be a shade too close for comfort.

"Cover!" he cried out, altering his own run trajectory as the missile slammed into the ground a few dozen meters or so away, sending diaclones that weren't immediately decimated by the impact careening into the air as a massive plume of smoke and fire shot upward.

Garrus 9-Southern Wing--Block B

Vroom smiled.

"You don't really need much of a reason of hit Prowl. His face naturally attracts fists and that attraction is only magnified when he opens his mouth. Must be what its like for you 'Cons when you serve with Starscream."

His tale was not one he told to a lot of Autobots let alone a Decepticon. This really was not a good time for that sort of thing anyway.

Semper Tyrannis - Hangar

Snapdragon looked towards Apeface.

"Ah shut up your vocal systems Apey or I will tear them out and show them up places they were not meant to be!" He says in a threatening manner. It was not a real threat however. Like frat buddies on Earth the Horrorcons would often insult one another out of fun. The insult was more for the soldiers who might feel like they could join in the fun. The sudden silence from them told him the message had been received. There was not total silence, however, Cutthroat continued to yell the most vile threats and insults at his captor.

"Wow... did he just say call me a <Censored>? Geez, that's vile. I've not even heard of someone being called a <Censored> before. I'm not even mad. Just impressed."

He noted Sinnertwin walking into the Hangar.

"Finally! Hey doggie, go get your master. He needs to pick up his lost property here."

Cutthroat increased his tantrum even further as he was agitated at being called property and having his insults used as amusement.

Semper Tyrannis - Brig

As much as Rad enjoys talking about theoretical stuff, for right now all this gestalt and mixing mechs talk is just talk. It would be interesting to see how this would work out on a data pad or hologram. Then the real excitement might begin if they could find a group like the Technobots or Protectobots willing to take the risk but all of this is currently a distant diode dream. Time to refocus on the here and now.

"I am enjoying the talk and hashing out some of the risks and benefits but all this talk is useless unless we can get out of here. It does surprise me the Cons haven't came back here to harass us for the fun of it. I have to wonder if other things has their attention."

Rad looks over at Scattershot wishing he could help out with the extensive repairs. Such things would be more fitting for Wheeljack or Ratchet.

"Scattershot, did you see any possible way of getting out of here unless we leave these cells? I wish I could help you with your repairs but can do so much or in this case so little in here. To bad we can't somehow short out the energy field keeping us in here."

Semper Tyrannis - Brig

Brainstorm continued to ponder what he could about all these new insights onto the possible combiner tech. He felt a little uncomfortable for a moment because the scientist usually loves to tinker once his mind begins to race with newer ideas. This cell took away that freedom, and he wondered what he could do now instead of just sitting around.

He looked over at Rad, who was busying trying to comfort the aching Scattershot. Brainstorm wishes he could of helped the poor and beaten mechs in that cell with him, but unfortunately we wasn't that kind of specialist. As much as he hated to admit it, Brainstorm really wished Perceptor was there to help.

His mind now focused on trying to escape...

The Steelhaven - Bridge

"Banzaitron, kill that Autobot!"

Banzai-tron's optics quickly switched over to the deathly Autobot's final actions. The intelligence officer leaped from his current position, dropping the idle turret he scavenged as he swooped in next to the Autobot. He mercifully ripped the Autobot from the console, then turned to the cripple bot. He pointed his arm-mounted cannon at the bot and fired off a blast the obliterated the helpless mech into hundreds of smoldering pieces of scrap metal. Banzai-tron then checked up on the console the Autobot had manned with his last few moments of life. Banzai-tron's yellow optics cringed to slits as he examined the console.

"The Autobot activated a fail-safe in the ship's mainframe!" He barked back to Cyclonus, "All primary functions have been shut-down!" Banzai-tron frantically struggled to reestablish power to the failing ship. The Autobot's Fail-safe was too protected, nothing could turn the fail-safe off now. "Engine power is failing! Cyclonus, we only have a couple of minutes before this ship goes into a free-fall towards the planet's surface."

Holding Cell 117 - Semper Tyrannis

Nightbeat crossed his arms and let out a huff. Even with his eye for mystery, it just didn't make sense. Why would they be conquering a planet such as this? Slave labor? No, that wouldn't warrant such a powerful strike force. They would have to be searching for something or gaining a tactical advantage against something.

"You're being too hard on yerself. All you're doing is dwelling on the past. All you can hope to do is learn from it and not make the same mistakes." Nightbeat said, fingering at the piece of armor, with thanks to Skyhammer, "Say, you wouldn't know if the Decepticons are searching for anything or anyone would you? From the sound of it, they have the most powerful team they could have here save Megatron himself. That tells me they are either searching for a WMD or someone very important. Perhaps both."

Taking a brief moment, the detective squinted through the orange glass of his cracked visor, trying to focus on what he knew already. Where were they in proximity to points of interest? They were rather close to LV-117, that dreadful planet where so many lose their lives. They were close to several asteroid fields that could be used for a hiding spot if need be. They were also close to-

"Garrus." Nightbeat muttered, "Why didn't I see this sooner? They're after Garrus, not Nebulos! Nebulos is their FOB, not their objective. They're trying to bust into Garrus 9 for something very important, and not just because it is an Autobot Stronghold. They have to be searching for someone or something there, and they brought all of this firepower for just that purpose. It was so simple, and yet I didn't have a clue until now."

It was so obvious now. If Prime were here, he would have found out immediately. Heh. If Prime were here, who knows how things would have turned out?

Nightbeat stood up off the floor and moved to his slab, where he lay down upon it, bringing his arms around to the side of his head, resting it in the palms. There was nothing to be done but wait now. The ship shook and energy hungry laser fire was heard on the hull and was bouncing off the shields. It had started.

*****

Bridge - Semper Tyrannis

Wheelie followed Mindwipe closely and silently. He was still wondering on his memories he had regained. Everything just seemed so... Surreal. Like it wasn't even happening. Mindwipe's voice seemed to echo and disappear. All that was really heard was his footfalls down the metal hallway.

What he grasped from what little he bothered to hear was that the vile Decepticons were readying themselves for an assault. An assault where? And for what purpose? To kill other proto's friends and families? Not likely.

The orange protoform walked briskly, still ignoring the questions of Mindwipe. The faces of Cleff and her murderer were etched into his optics. The feeling of sadness, remorse and the need for justice or revenge -- he couldn't tell which -- filled his mind. He would find this Decepticon, and he would make him pay.

Semper Tyrannis--Hangar

"You and what army lizard-breath?" Apeface countered Snapdragon's idle threat. As if anything would happen anyhow. Maybe they had occasionally come to blows back in the beginning of it all but too much time had passed for Apeface to recall such things. Too much time and too many head injuries.

Not even a Cybertronian had a perfect memory. Particularly for the long term. There simply was no way for them to possess active memory over the span of millions of years. Certain elements important to their character persisted. Others were compressed and archived, only to slowly erode away. It was not even uncommon for the indexes to disappear before the actual compressed memories. An event that turned one's personal history to something a kin to a dream - or a nightmare.

Cutthroat however seemed to continue his stay at the center of attention for Snapdragon and many other Decepticons gathered in the hangar as well. Insanity truly appeared to be a muse without bounds. Apeface, quite prolific thug and filth-slinger on his own right, found himself taking mental notes for the future.

"Hehe. Yeah, he sure did call you <Censored>. Though the crazy slagger did find his mark quite well don't you think? You certainly can be such a <Censored>."

It seemed though, that the playtime was over. Sinnertwin had appeared. And where ever Hun-Gar's sentry hound roamed, his Terrorcon brethren were never too far away. Which in turn meant that Cyclonus had succeeded in his task. The second in command of the Fleet wouldn't have sent the Terrorcons back to the Tyrannis otherwise. And that could only mean one thing - Scorponok was ready to launch the next phase of his plan.

As if on cue, the doors leading into the main promenade of the battleship slid open - revealing the approaching form of the gargantuan Decepticon overlord behind this whole operation. Provoking Apeface to change from his thug-mode into his professional soldier-mode.

"Stand attention! Commander on deck!" The Horrocon saboteur barked to initiate a proper response from the hundreds of Decepticons present in the hangar. The wait was over.

Semper Tyrannis - Hangar

"Sheesh Apey, what happened to a little creativity? This crazy cyber-chicken showed real originality to come up with something like <Censored>. You could do better than just repeating what he said. Almost as unoriginal as these slag heads naming themselves the Terrorcons after Horrorcon was already taken. "

After he finished talking he turned to see Scorponok enter the Hangar. "Great... he's here and Hun-Grr is still no where to be seen." He muttered.

"Hi Commander." Snapdragon said as he saw everyone snap into attention around him. "I would stand in attention too but I got a Terrorcon in a headlock so he won't try to eviscerate any of these idiots."

It was impossible to look professional while trying to keep a bloodthirsty Cutthroat under control so he did not even try.

Semper Tyrannis - Hangar

Soul Siren walked behind Scorponok into the hangar bay. As she saw the scene before her she sighed and shook her head. She felt embarrassed for her Commander that he had to deal with his rabble.

Semper Tyrannis - Hangar

Treadshot filed into the hangar behind the gargantuan commander and Soul Siren, stumbling onto a rather peculiar sight. One of the Horrorcons had one of the Terrorcons trapped in a headlock. It would've been comical - well, actually it was pretty hilarious despite the fact that Cutthroat looked like he was about to live up to his name.

Instead of continuing to stare, Treadshot simply filed into line and stood at attention with the rest of the hundreds of Decepticons waiting for their chance to tear into some Autobots. Catgut sat at the sniper's heel, casting his gaze about the room with disinterest. Both he and his master shared the mentality of most of the Decepticons in the room: a burning desire to rip into the Autobots.

------

Garrus 9 - Cell Block B

The agent had hoped that this guard who was plaguing her would let her be, but it seemed her words had the opposite effect. Fantastic. Umbra glowered at Mandate, wishing nothing more than this...piece of filth leave her be. She had gone thus far without negative encounters with guards. Maybe this was her luck running out. Umbra supposed it was only a matter of time.

“I do know you. I know all of your kind. Nothing but worthless gutter trash the lot of you.”

Umbra scowled and clenched her fists, doing her best to contain her fury. Confusion crossed her face as the guard backed away from the door. She waited. Had he gone? Decided to leave her be? She dearly hoped this was the case, but she doubted it to be true. The silence was tense, but gradually, Umbra was able to relax by some degrees. She was about to say something to Icepick when the guard spoke again, startling her by his voice's sudden volume and proximity.

Her kind? Her kind?! Who did this guard think he was?! Who did...Umbra clenched her fists again, trying to control her anger. She would not give him the satisfaction. She would not let him win. No. What could she honestly do about him? Nothing. She knew it. And he knew it. Umbra turned away and walked to the back wall of her cell, leaning against it as she stared at the door impotently as if the force of her glare would melt the door and the guard behind it.

“Your kind was the first to turn on us. You may wear an Autobot’s badge, but as far as I’m concerned you’re nothing but a piece of slag ‘Con. That’s what you are, my little turncoat. Kill a ‘Bot get the death penalty. Unfortunately that wasn’t the sentence that was handed down. But I’ve got no problem alleviating that discrepancy.”

The cell rumbled with the dying echoes of the guard's footsteps as he slammed the door again. Umbra simply glared from the deepest shadows of her cell, silently seething. It was another voice that broke through her furious silence. Icepick.

"Don't be too hard on him, Umbra. This is quite likely his last functioning cycle. He has to get his sizzles one way or the other."

The femme stood upright and glanced to the wall separating her cell from Icepick's before looking back at the guard who had been menacing her. He might get...ideas if she allowed his attention to move away from her. Without a second thought, Umbra moved an actuator to her chest plate and ripped off the Autobot insignia, chucking it at the door. The badge clanged off of the door loudly as Umbra glared at her guard.

"Fine then. If this...is how the Autobots treat their own, I want no part of 'your kind'," Umbra spat out acerbically, "Call me a Decepticon. That's better than what you are, you disgusting spawn of Unicron."

If she weren't so furious, Umbra would have almost been surprised at the relative ease with which she removed the Autobot badge from her chest. That had been its place for millions of years, only now to be torn away so easily. It filled Umbra with a strange sort of exhilaration. The kind that came with having made the choice. What felt like the right choice. For once in her life.

------

Garrus 9 - Cell Block H

Another intricate pattern here. Darken this portion. Scrape away a bit of Whirl's wing to lighten it. Carefully dab there....yes. Now for the optics. Simple enough. Scrape away to the metal underne- A low rumble shook the prison, making many of Slog's works crumble and flake slightly. The Monstercon stared as his digit, which had been in the process of carving out one of Fortress Maximus's optics, now had created a slash from his right optic through his head.

Slog let out a low curse at seeing his work so deftly foiled by...by....wait. What could shake his cell enough for it to have a discernible effect on his art? And what was that racket? Slog frowned and walked toward the bars of his cell to witness the prison in quite a state. Prisoners were growing restless, guards were alert...and...what was that sound? Explosions from outside?

Slowly, his irritation at being interrupted was overridden by curiosity. It...couldn't be. An attack? By none other than free Decepticons. At least, that was certainly what it seemed like. Slog let out a sigh and glanced back to his work in progress. It had been almost completed as well...Such a shame.

He walked over to it and brushed the entire scene of the events of the activity yard away. This would be rushed, certainly, but Slog felt it only right to portray the attack on Garrus 9. If the attack were successful, the Monstercon wished to have some final marker of this momentous occasion. If the attack was not, this certainly was still not an event to forget.

Where Fortress Maximus's optic used to be, Slog began to paint a giant Decepticon warship. He swiped with a harsh, fluid motion across the earth-caked wall, carving a line to the gleaming metal underneath.

Semper Tyrannis--Hangar

Sinnertwin looked up at the Horrorcon, a rumble emanating quietly as the two heads looked at the writhing Cutthroat. Sinnertwin had preceded the arrival of the other Terrorcons by a few short moments. One of the heads turned to confirm Hungrr's arrival before addressing Snapdragon.

"The devourer of sparks and wires is not far. Do not fear. I will deal with the flying wretch, just as I did on the planet of old."

With the barking command to stand at attention, Sinnertwin did precisely that, knowing full well that Scorponok could be just as ruthless as the power commander of the Terrorcons when he so chose to be.
___

Mindwipe, with his potential Decepticon recruit in tow, arrived within the confines of the massive hangar just as one of the Horrorcons had barked that the commander was on deck. And indeed he was, for it would be hard to miss the imposing size of a mech like Scorponok.

With thoughts of Cipher's plans tingling in his mind, Mindwipe indicated for Wheelie to follow him over to one of the staging areas where other Decepticon soldiers were gathering. Soldiers of a decidedly Seeker variety, which were a considerable improvement over the fuelthirsty Terrorcons with which Mindwipe had been required to work far too much of late. They were on the other side of the room, and that was where Mindwipe preferred that they remain.

"Relish this moment, Wheelie. Savor it. You could well be standing at the edge of a battle that historians of the future will determine turned the tide of the war," Mindwipe said quietly as he waited for Scorponok to launch them into action. Looking over at Wheelie, the young mech seemed....distracted. This was most definitely not an ideal time for the young Cybertronians thoughts to be elsewhere, if that was indeed the case. Not if he wanted to survive this whole ordeal and earn that Decepticon badge.

"Something on your mind?"
___

Garrus 9-Southern Wing--Block B

"That bad, huh?" Stormwrecker chuckled. "That's impressive, since I'm pretty sure there's a waiting list of mechs who'd like to rock Screamer's cranium a few times."
___

Semper Tyrannis--Brig

"Yeah.....guh....I've looked around. We might be able to rig something up to short out these...these energy fields if you give us enough time, but it's nothing that's going to happen quick," Lightspeed said. "As for the Decepticons' interest in combining technology, it hardly surprises me. It was one of the subjects that I remember being theorized and studied heavily at the Jhiaxian Academy. We are a species that is inherently and continually evolving by our own hand. That the Decepticons would want to manipulate that isn't the least bit--grah--surprising. But like Scattershot said, the science behind the theory is ridiculously unstable. I don't believe we were meant to combine with one another, despite some infrequent evidence to the contrary."

Lightspeed shifted his position one last time, hopefully to avoid any further painful circuit surges as his body attempted to cope with the injuries that he had already suffered.

"There, sorry. I should be able to speak without all the random exclamations of pain now. Yay me," he said, listening more closely to Nightbeat's musings and nodding softly. "Indeed. That seems to be the picture that's being painted right now. There's too many things inside that prison that Scorponok could want to get his hands on. But...it is a prison. Hopefully it's as good as keeping people out as it is keeping them in."

Semper Tyrannis: Brig

Scattershot's internal systems registered a new potent surge of energy that had been trapped in one of the reserve batteries within his chest. The connections had been restored by his repair systems, and though not enough to restore him to fighting capacity it was enough to stabilize him. His optics flared to a brilliant blue before he instinctively lowered their illumination levels to conserve power.

With a groan and a grunt the Technobot Commander pushed himself into a more comfortable sitting position. He pressed the palm of his hands down upon the ice cold deck and allowed his fingers to trace the warped contours of the metal below him. "One could only hope Lightspeed." He shook his head quietly as if a dark shadow fell over him. "But I don't think that will be possible."

Pyro rubbed his ruined hip briefly before he looked back through the force field at the Technobots. "The patch, wasn't it?"

"Good guess kid." Scattershot pushed himself to his feet and staggered briefly, barely keeping himself from falling over. Had Nosecone not caught him, he probably would have. "They delved deep into the memories. Pulled a hell of a good chunk to... thank you Nosecone."

The miner nodded and released his commanding officer. He stepped back and leaned against the wall.

"I suspect that this battle is only for the sake of Scorponok's amusement. Once his lust for battle is sated, he'll use what he stole. Then no matter how many prayers to Primus we offer up... Garrus will fall." Scattershot's fist crunched closed as if he was wrapping his fingers around the throat of a Decepticon soldier. "And once that happens. Once Scorponok and his lap slargs have rounded up every single one of the Autobot survivors and tossed them into cells."

Scattershot's fingers released showing only the dust of a hidden bolt floating down to the cold metal deck. "Only when that happens will any of us have a chance to turn this around. From a defeat to a victory, and believe me those black pistoned gunk chuggers won't be enjoying their prize for very long."

Pyro's optics narrowed. He was not surprised that the infamous commander would not accept defeat so easily. But he was rather dismayed that his analysis of the current situation was nearly spot on. From where they were they had no chance of resistance. But perhaps an opportunity would arise planet side. "So now all we have to do is wait."

"Wait and plan. Review the prison from memory if we can. Perhaps we can find something, anything that we can turn to our advantage when the time comes."

Garrus 9-Southern Wing--Block B

Vroom heard Stormwrecker's answer and stopped for a moment.

"You know, just in case we all get blown up, satisfy my curiosity. Why is Starscream still functional? I mean, seriously, how can you Decepticons be, well, like you Decepticons usually are and Starscream still have his spark?"

Garrus-9 – Southern Wing – Cell Block M

Pressed up against the cell door and peering through the glass panel as though it would improve his hearing and sight by great margins, Wildfly, had anyone seen him, would have looked psychotic, creepy, desperate, tragic, the whole shebang. But he didn't care about that. He only cared about learning of the frenzied activity that had infected this joint.

Still being in the dark made him feel dense, like what was occurring out there displayed obvious symptoms to an obvious cause. Had any clear or distinctive tones escaped the raucous collections of noises in this part of the southern wing and journeyed to his cell, Wildfly would already know—

“They're coming for you! They're coming for you! Do what you must do, but they will still kill you!”

Abruptly, several of the prisoners began to chant and were taunting the guards with it. A nice idea, one Wildfly approved of. And it seemed to be achieving an effect, too, because—

“You lot better shut your holes, or I swear to fraggin' Primus I'll shut them with my pistol!”

—the guards were most likely responding in a manner the prisoners were aiming for.

The question, however, remained. What was all this fuss—

“I ain't shuttin' no hole, you afthole! Not when the 'Cons are gonna shut yours first!” The inmate burst out laughing.

“That's right, you spawns of glitches.” Another inmate's voice rose above the chaos of sound. “Once they break in here, they'll break you. And break you real good, you worthless oil stains!”

Fascinating. The Decepticons were here. With a reason now attached to the commotion, Wildfly had finally discovered his answer.

“They're coming for you! They're coming for you! Do what you must do, but they will still kill you!”

Disbelief stripped him of his mobility, as if he were encased in an invisible block of ice. Decepticons. Here. Now. Madness.

A moment or five spent on contemplating the Decepticons' unexpected yet pleasant arrival only prompted the production of more questions at a furious rate. Who were they? How long had they been planning the assault on Garrus-9 for? Were they bonkers for trying to bust in here? And perhaps most importantly, would they succeed?

Questions, questions, questions. Questions, questions, questions. Wildfly had many.

“They're coming for you! They're coming for you! Do what you must do, but they will still kill you!”

He had to admit it: their chant was kind of catchy. It almost even lured him into contributing his own vocals to it.

Extracting his gaze from the glass panel, Wildfly turned from the door. Smiling, he walked over to his cot. He chuckled as he laid down. Good things were about to happen.

He'd have his answers soon enough. In the meanwhile, he would enjoy the beautiful tunes of tumult as they played their glorious music in the southern wing, accentuated by the relentless chants that increased in volume owing to more and more prisoners joining in. Sublime entertainment.

“They're coming for you! They're coming for you! Do what you must do, but they will still kill you!”

Garrus-9 Solitary

Bludgeon's optics burned back into operation his meditation was being disrupted by the increased shaking and vibrations that he was attributing to the preludes to the invasion. “My, my something wicked this way comes” a smirk appeared on the decepticons face as he realised it would probably be one of the major warlords like Shockwave, Scorponok or even Megatron himself coming to pay attention to the prison and its various prizes.

Bludgeon lifted himself off the ground and started his regular practice routine much like the tai chi practitioners on earth that could be seen on beach fronts and halls all over the place. The electric warrior slid his form through the routine at the end of the routine he paused looking across at the door frame. He was able to destroy joints without damaging the armour on the surface so discerning the location of weak points in the door was child’s play his hand slid across the door panel. He stepped away as he heard a guard approach and look through the view port at the prisoner. Usually bludgeon could be found in meditation but this time the Guard found Bludgeon starring straight back at him.

“Away from the view port prisoner” the only sign of Bludgeon listening to the Autobot was a slight cocking of the head as he stood back. The autobot was about to speak again when Bludgeon interrupted him as the vibrations grew and the soft sounds of explosions filtered through “can you hear that Autobot that is the sound of your inevitable fate crushed beneath the iron heel of the Decepticon war machine” the guard coughed up unrefined energon then turned and scurried away leaving bludgeon to his own devices.

Garrus 9-Southern Wing--Block B

"He's good," Stormwrecker said simply.

He had thought about this question from time to time. Why some mechs were in Megatron's inner circle and why others seemed to be used for nothing more than cannon fodder. He didn't really think about it much anymore, as he'd more or less figured out the answer a long time ago.

"I mean, you gotta figure so, right? There ain't all this nice, neat protocol for promotion bein' a Decepticon. Achievements and interviews and whatever the slag it is you Autobots do. You want a higher spot with more command responsibility, you take it. And you keep taking until someone has the power to stop you. And there's always someone, 'less you're Megatron himself. So Starscream still functions....'cause no one's there to take him out. He's the leader of one of the most elite units in the 'Con ranks. He pals around with Megatron on an almost daily basis I'd bet. If somebody coulda knocked him off that spot, they woulda. They haven't because they can't. That simple."
___

The Steelhaven--Bridge

Cyclonus walked over to Banzaitron's side, examining the console that the dying--and now dead--Autobot had managed to operate. Every screen on the bridge suddenly went red, bathing the entire room in an eerie, crimson glow.

"Not even that," Cyclonus said, walking back to the position that he had occupied previously, his gaze returning to the main viewport.

If this was to be his end, so be it. He had at least disabled one of the critical defense ships in the Autobot fleet.

"Brace for impact," Cyclonus said, resuming his seated position in the captain's chair, his hands tightening around the edges of gray steel armrests. Provided that he survived this ordeal, and provided that the crash happened somewhere within the immediate vicinity of Garrus-9, he would be almost assured a way into the prison itself and he could do his own unique brand of damage from there.

Unexpectedly, emergency klaxons began to blare throughout the Steelhaven's bridge. Cyclonus' optics narrowed as the ship's rear thrusters fired up again--though not by his command. It appeared that not only would they crash, but they would become an instrument of destruction themselves.
___

The Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

Each of his triune components maintaining an active watch on what was taking place within the battle itself as well as the core functions of the flagship itself, something peculiar caught Reflector's attention.

The Steelhaven, the ship that had been the initial target of the fleet's vice commander, was suddenly giving off strange system readings. The tractor beams had been disengaged not all that long ago after Cyclonus had confirmed his command of the ship. Now he had to wonder if he had taken that step prematurely.

The ship lurched in an odd trajectory, forcing the Tyrannis to do so as well.

The three Reflector components gripped their respective workstations.

Another lurch on the Tyrannis' bridge forced Reflector to pull up a view of the boarding connector between the two ships as the Steelhaven began to descend. Its engines appeared to suddenly be on full blast as it angled even further downward.

Something was going to have to give, and the most obvious was the metal link between to two ships.

The tube connecting them began to bend and grind before ultimately breaking off altogether, sending about a dozen Vehicons spiraling down into Elba's atmosphere. And its trajectory was no longer odd. It was suicidal. What in the name of Primus had happened on that bridge?

Reflector knew that he could not ruminate on that possibility for long. He could deal with the damage that the Tyrannis had sustained later. That Autobot battleship was going to serve as a weapon against the Autobot forces one way or another. Cyclonus be damned. And if he were to somehow become a casualty of this whole effort, Reflector could not admit to feeling overly guilty about that prospect, either. One more obstacle out of the way of his own peripheral ascendency to the position of Vice Commander.

Activating the flagship's powerful tractor beams, Reflector attempted to influence the massive battleship's course.

What a nice, destructive projectile it would make.
___

Elba--Approaching Garrus-9

Another diaclone fell in a fiery heap as Kickback scurried across the desolate battlefield, transforming just in front of Bombshell.

"The walls are thick and heavily defended. It will take time to chew through them," Kickback said.

"We have time," Bombshell hissed, peaking around the edge of the corner rock pile he had found and firing at one of the guard towers.

"Not that much time," Kickback retorted, doing the same thing as Bombshell.

"We..."

"What?" Kickback asked, wondering what had stopped his fellow Insecticon in mid-sentence.

"That Autobot ship--the big one--it's not....eh, is it heading this way?"

Kickback turned to look for himself and there was indeed an Autobot ship in the relatively far off distance. But that distance seemed to be shortening with every astrosecond that passed. And, he was not a professional navigator by any means, but it appeared to be heading in their general direction.

"It--I think it is," Kickback answered as the two Insecticons stopped and stared at the massive ship in the sky.

It was definitely getting bigger.

"We should find a better spot," Bombshell said at last, as a blast from behind rained down more mineral debris atop their heads. Transforming once more, the two Insecticons took to the air as the massive battleship continued its angled, downward descent.

Roaring overhead as the two Insecticons flew away to find more of their brothers, the ship crashed glancingly into the southernmost wing of the prison. Metal crumpled and folded on itself as exterior walls gave way to the gargantuan immensity of the ship. Hardly what it was designed to repel, but even so the walls of the prison still stood even as the damaged Autobot battleship rocked and finally settled into its new position.

Semper Tyrannis--Hangar

Like a giant among the mortal men, Scorponok towered over his numerous minions as he marched forth followed by the clanking noise of his heavy foot steps. His soldiers were ready. Standing at attention. Perfectly aligned to enter the through the spacebridge once it would be opened.

Well, most of them were.

Once again one of the Terrorcons had other ideas. Cutthroat. A being so primal that he barely resembled a Cybertronian at times. A frenzied animal even in comparison to rest of the unit he belonged into. What did he really need this uncontrollable psychopath for? The answer was simple enough. To be a weapon. To terrorize and destroy his enemies. But a weapon had to be properly contained before it would be unleashed. And while Snapdragon was doing adequate job at keeping the weapon shackled - in this particular case, the weapon had to be reminded it was not irreplaceable.

A closed claw, as large as the Terrorcon itself closed in towards the ferocious beast. Its tip finally settling under the Terrorcon's beak before forcing Cutthroat to face his master. And so effortlessly that this terrifying Decepticon could as well have been a human child.

"Cutthroat. Stand down or die."

It was not an empty threat. It was a simple statement. A statement anyone serving under the gargantuan Decepticon warlord knew to adhere.

"You will get to hunt soon."

However, before the situation shifted towards either potential direction, the whole Decepticon battleship shook violently enough for some of the gathered Decepticons to lose their balance and fall.

Steelhaven had broken away from his grip, tearing the boarding tube apart as it made its final struggle for freedom. The instrument report from Finback and Reflector told as much. Scorponok for his own part, showed no sign of concern to his troops. He was a bastion. An immovable object. There was no weakness. Not now. Not ever.

Even if this meant he had lost Cyclonus - the attack would go on. Not that he'd even seriously entertain the thought of his lieutenant perishing now, on the eve of their grandest victory in hundreds of vorns.

"Commendable effort Autobots. But futile." Scorponok spoke up and addressed his men. "Steelhaven has collided with Garrus-9. The impact event has left the enemy shaken, weakened."

"Our turn is now!" Scorponok's voice rose into a roar, his clawed arm pointing at the opening spacebridge portal in the far end of the hangar. "The portal is open! Attack my Decepticons! Release our Decepticon brothers!"

"Death to Autobots!"

The Semper Tyrannis--Brig

Scattershot's assessment of the situation was grim, but Lightspeed also feared that it was more or less accurate.

"This ship is locked up tight, that's for sure. My guess is only Megatron's own would be more secure. Too bad we couldn't have been captured by Stunticons. We would've been out of that rattletrap in half an orn. We're just going to have to scavenge anything that might be of potential use. Like Scattershot said--not to get out of this cell, but maybe to help us get out of the next one."

One of Lightspeed's manual digits tapped the bottom of his chin thoughtfully, his mind wandering off into the realm of the rhetorical.

"...we just have to hope that, for whatever reason, that they don't leave us up here. Primus forbid, if they do take Garrus, as long as they transfer us down there with any other prisoners they take, that'll increase our odds a little. I mean, that was our duty post, when we weren't serving aboard the Farstar, so that should help. It's all just hypothe--"

That was when the Tyrannis shook violently. And then again. Lightspeed froze, looking around at the others.

"Give 'em hell, Max," he said, chuckling a little.
___

The sudden lurching of the ship had stirred Pointblank from his contemplative state. All this talk of Decepticon motives and countermeasures and all that slag was irrelevant to him. He understood what the Decepticons wanted to do. It's why he hated them. Whatever nuances might make this attempted conquest different from any other were irrelevant to him.

Lightspeed's reaction to whatever had caused the 'Con ship to jerk like that was one that Pointblank shared. He said nothing, but the smirk on his face said it all.

"I can wait. I can wait with the best of 'em," Pointblank said, responding to Pyro's earlier sentiment. "But when they give me a shot I'm taking it."

He then looked over at Nightbeat.

"How's Skyhammer doing when you last saw him? Just how bad did those 'Con slags tear him up?"
___

Elba--Orbit

One Sweep pulled up alongside Scourge as the two skimmed the port ridge of the next Autobot vessel to come under their assault. The descent of the Steelhaven had caught his attention, but only momentarily. The presence of Cyclonus aboard that vessel elicited nothing. He had a function to carry out, just as they all did. Scourge was not about to deviate from his own. Those with lesser discipline would be tempted to do otherwise.

"The Steelhaven falls, Scourge. Should we follow?"

"No," was Scourge's immediate answer. "We redouble our effort on those that remain, until they all share the Steelhaven's fate. Or worse."

"Yes, Tracker. I just--"

One of the vessel's auxiliary cannons released a blast that engulfed the Sweep. Scourge had seen it as a possibility and had adjusted his altitude levels slightly. If the Sweep did not have the foresight to do the same, Scourge had no desire for it to remain a Huntsman. Natural selection at its finest.

"Fool," Scourge muttered, arcing downward to link up with other Sweep attackers that were darting around the remaining Autobot frigates. "Bring them down!!!"

Garrus 9 – Cell Block B

Regulator backed away slowly from Stingray’s cell trying to absorb just what the femme had told him. “Decepticons…” he whispered. The Autobot’s voice was slightly shaky and uncertain. Was this ‘Con just playing with his head or was it actually some kind of invasion being performed by her brethren?

It was then that Stingray’s last statement caught his attention. We’re both? His optics shot back up to the small opening in the door. Regulator cast what he saw of the ‘Con a cautious glare. “You said ‘we’re both in for some serious slag’. What do you mean by that?”

He stepped even closer to the cell waiting for Stingray to shed a bit of light on what she had told him but that’s when he heard it. Well, felt it was more like it. The entire cell block felt as though it was shaking apart. The walls shook and large chunks of the ceiling dropped to the floor around the mech.

Regulator pressed his body up against the door as a particularly deadly piece of metal crashed down before him. “Holy slag! What the hell is happening?!”

*****

Mandate gave a casual glance over his shoulder as one of the other guards had taken it upon himself to silence the insolate little bug that was Icepick. As the other ‘Bot entered the cell Mandate let out a low chuckle and tapped lightly on Umbra’s cell. “Keep your trap shut and take your punishment like the ‘Con you just confessed yourself to be.”

The former police officer glanced over his shoulder and gave a quick nod. “I want cell B-31 open now, Tickswitch.” There was a heavy click and Umbra’s cell slowly slid open revealing a relatively dark, small space. And silhouetted in the doorway, Mandate…a hulking mech laden with several large weapons and sporting a black and white paint job normally used by most police officers back on Cybertron.

“This is gonna be fun. Killing ‘Cons is something I revel in.” Mandate stepped into the cell letting the door close behind him. His optics found the smaller femme and he moved in closer. “I’m gonna snap that little neck of yours but good.” He ground out while cracking his knuckles.

With a broad smile plastered across his face, Mandate sent a full force backhand at Umbra.

Garrus 9 – Southern Wing – Heading to the Command Center

“So then I said to him…hehehe…I says to him, ‘From what I can tell you got about 5 seconds before I’…” Downfall was only half listening to his companion’s inane ramblings as the two of them wound their way through the Southern Wing and on toward the Command Center where they’d be relieving two other guards.

After several steps and Downfall stopped dead in his tracks raised his hand halting Drudge and placed his free hand over his forehead. The senior guard shut off his optics and let out a heavy, tired sigh. “Drudge, please. Shut. Up. I have the biggest cranial ache going and your stupid stories aren’t helping at all.”

Without looking Downfall patted his friend on the chest, onlined his optics and pressed on. Both mechs remained silent for nearly a breem when Drudge spoke up again, to the chagrin of Downfall. “You sure you don’t wanna hear this? I mean it’s a good story…has everything ya like…danger, angst, romance…” Downfall stopped short once again and gave Drudge a questioning glare. “Romance? Since when am I interested in romance?”

Drudge shrugged deeply and looked down at the floor. “I was just sayin’…you know, cause it’s just…I don’t know.” The smaller mech shook his head and started back out on their trek. Downfall did slow his gait in order to look over his shoulder at Drudge, who had yet to move. “Now if your story has drinking in it then I’m all for it.” His larger companion lifted his head up and both exchanged smiles.

Whatever had happened it happened fast. There was screaming, plumes of dust and so much of everything. Drudge picked himself up off the floor after tossing several heavy beams from his body and looked around to see where the screaming was coming from. “Downfall?! Downfall! Where are you?” The only response the lumbering Autobot received was a pained moan.

Drudge climbed a pile of what might have been part of a wall at one time and spotted his friend. “Primus.” He whispered in shock. The sight that met his optics was gruesome. Downfall had been impaled through the chest by a heavy steel spike which had pinned him to the far wall. As Downfall gripped the spike he turned his head so he could look directly at Drudge. He tried to speak only to spit up a mouthful of energon mixed with other fluids.

“It’s okay ‘Fall. You’ll be okay. I can get help!” Drudge looked around frantically but he knew there was nothing that he could do. “Hurts….Stop….Hurt…,” came Downfall's weak voice. Slowly Drudge looked back at his friend. He couldn't let him suffer like that. Grudgingly he drew his weapon and nodded. “Don’t worry Downfall. I’ll make it stop hurting.” The larger guard raised his gun and placed it against the other mech’s forehead. Downfall gave his approval with a slight movement of his head and low whimper, Drudge turned his optics away; “Primus be with you, old friend.” and pulled the trigger.

Garrus 9 – The Last Resort

The remainder of Rung and Streamlight’s journey was done in relative silence. Although the flier was tempted to ask questions…any question…he held his tongue. That was until they finally reached the level where The Last Resort was located.

“Doc? Do you think the ‘Cons are trying to get in here for something in particular, or are they just interested in freeing their guys? ” Rung didn’t answer right away instead he hummed in thought. “I’m not entirely sure, Streamlight. It makes sense that they would come for something in particular, but then again, when it comes to the Decepticons one can never really know.” Streamlight looked at Rung for a long moment trying to gauge just what might be running through the psychoanalyst’s mind.

Rung suddenly stopped in his tracks nearly causing Streamlight to plow into his back. “Around the bend. Let’s go.” With a nod and a quiet sigh the flier pressed ahead of the orange ‘Bot.

Several steps later Streamlight hit the far wall hard enough to cause his audios and optics to fail only to come back online amidst chaos. He thought he heard his name being called but he wasn’t certain if it was all in his head. He lifted his right hand to wave the dust out of his field of view but noticed that his hand was gone. The stump that was left was covered in burnt energon and oil. As he stood back up he could hear his name being called again; this time it was much clearer.

“Streamlight. Streamlight! Can you hear me?!” The young guard’s head tilted slightly in the direction of the voice. “D…doc? That you?” The shape of a figure began to appear through the heavy veil of dust causing the red and white flier to give pause. He drew his long range laser rifle and set up for a clean shot once whatever it was came into his field of vision.

The sound of a weapon powering up made Rung stop and throw up his hands. “Streamlight, don’t fire! It’s me. Rung. Please put down your weapon.” Rung slowly lowered his arms as the sound of the guard’s gun powered down and the mech worked his way to the doctor.

“Sorry, doc. I wasn’t sure…” The smaller mech placed his hand on Streamlight’s shoulder and quickly cut him off. “That’s alright. Let’s see if there‘s a way out of here” Both ‘Bots began to work their way through the mangled debris until they couldn’t go any further. Streamlight lunged forward slamming his left hand against a portion of decimated wall and ceiling. “Damnit! This is the only way to the Last Resort! How’re we gonna get there now?” He looked over at Rung who was taking in the sight.

“We’re not.” Rung finally answered. The young agitated guard spun around to face his companion. “What’s that supposed to mean? We have to get in there! It’s the only safe place in the prison! What’re we gonna do?” Streamlight was near hysterics prompting the psychiatrist to grip him by the upper arms and shaking him in order to get his attention. “Calm down. We may not be able to gain access to the Last Resort but there is another location…” “What? The Rig?! That’s IN the Last Resort!” Streamlight cut in.

The doctor took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I know. But there’s another location in the Maximum Security levels that will serve our purpose.” Streamlight flashed him a questioning look. “Level 4. There’s nothing there of worth to the Decepticons save Kronus, and I have a feeling they won’t even try to release him. You and I know that there are no other Decepticons being held on that level. We should be relatively safe. Okay?” Rung kept his optics glued to the young guards until Streamlight finally nodded in understanding.

With a weak smile Rung took hold of Streamlight’s remaining hand and began leading the way toward their new destination. “What caused that…” the flier asked in a low nervous voice. “My guess is whatever the Decepticons threw our way dumped the prison on top of us…we’re several levels below the surface.”

((OOC: The guys on the Tyrannis possibly tomorrow.))

Garrus 9-Southern Wing--Block B

"Oh come on, are you telling me that no one could take Screamer out? The likes of Shockwave and Scorponok could not do it?"

He responded as he turned towards the door. He was not about to stay here and potentially be shot without a fight by some Decepticon so he prepared to use one of the explosives he made to blow out the door.

Before he could continue the entire structure began to shake hard as the sounds of a huge crashed echoed through the entire area. Materials began to crumble from the roof and, for a moment, Vroom through he would be buried. After a few moments things had settled down enough for Vroom to rise. He saw that the door he has planned on breaking had fallen off on its own. He sighed and packed away the makeshift bombs in case he needed them later.

He stumbled outside to a scene of great damage.

"What the slag they hit this place with?" He said with a cough, an automated response to get dust away from his internal systems.

Semper Tyrannis - Hangar

When "normal" Cutthroat's thoughts consisted of cruel, despicable, sparkless thoughts that no sane being would ever consider. When riled up as he was, however, they became a chaotic swirl where every action he imagined resulted in death. He demonstrated no fear as his beak was grabbed by Scorponok although it could be argued that was mostly due to the act not fully registering in his mind.

"Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, hunt soon." Was what he heard and he calmed down, as much as Cutthroat could with battle around him. He wanted oil on his claws and talons but as hyper as he currently was a primal scream, muffled by his beak being grabbed, was as close as he could get to express that. The ship shook which soon began to undo the whatever calmness that Scorponok had achieved. When Cutthroat would be released, slaughter would soon follow. At least now, he had a target.

Semper Tyrannis - Hangar

Snapdragon sighed and stretched out his arm after Scorponok had grabbed Cutthroat. He could have held on easily for as long as needed but he was getting bored. As the ship shook Snapdragon stood tall, both Horrorcons possessing that rare combination of strength and agility. He heard Scorponok out and grinned under his face plate. Maybe now he would get the challenge that was missing in nucleon.

He looked towards Scorponok.

He punched his partner in destruction, Apeface, in the shoulder.

"Lets do this Apey! Someone has to show these rejects how its done!"

With those words he ran forward into the portal. He was an interceptor so it was time to intercept whatever unfortunate piece of slag was unlucky enough to be down there.

Semper Tyrannis - Hangar

Soul Siren sighed. She liked to this she was an intelligent and culture mechanoid so seeing someone like Cutthroat only hurt her head. Not only was compassion totally missing in his mind but so was any real shred of intelligence. As she ship rattled she found herself falling to the floor. When Scorponok spoke she became concerned. Cyclonus, unlike Cutthroat, was a true soldier and one of the few Decepticon lieutenants who always treated her professionally so she would hate to have the cause lose him. As she got herself off the floor she used her tablet to access the ships sensors and see what she could find out about the crash and also opened a communication channel to Cyclonus.

"Commander Cyclonus. Please confirm your status."

She knew her commander well enough to know that deep inside he was concerned about the loss of soldiers who had proven themselves to the cause. The situation would just not allow him to demonstrate that concern, however, so she did it for him. As she did, she remained standing beside him ready to move when he did.