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Garrus-9 Central – Approaching Amphitheater

Bomb Burst motioned a 'not now' gesture to Nightbird, and a 'follow' gesture to both her and Phobos and silently set it motion behind Bludgeon and Cyclonus.

---

Nightbird put away her swords and shrugged.

Garrus 9 - Mines

"Yeah, and you're forgetting I worked here too!" The cycloptic Autobot exclaimed as an answer to Pointblank's questionable directions. Rather than continue to sit back and play the middle-mech, the former wrecker outstretched his clawed appendage and snagged the comm device from Pointblank before placing it against the side of his elongated helm.

>>"Alright listen up Umbrella, you're about to be guided by none other than Cybertron's perfect little angel himself from here on out. Now if I remember right, there's a grate about a hundred meters or so that'll lead out into a sanitation closet. Pop out through that grate and I'll fill you in one the next step."<<

Whirl then took his claw off the transmitter and turned back to Pyro and company, who all appeared to have set another step of their grand plan into motion. The blue helicopter turned his singular optic back towards the locker he was stuffed in while Pyromus Prime suggested he stay behind and wait while they all return to their former positions.

"I dunno if anyone here knows, but stealth isn't exactly a specialty of mine. Roadbuster knows, he knows full well. We were Wreckers, keyword being 'wreck' there." He paused for a minute as he awaited some form of response while he pondered Pyro's plan. Damn, it was pretty sound too... No way to argue out of this one, not unless he wanted to wind up back in some form of containment again. "Oh I see what the issue here is... It's because I'm just too much mech for you all to handle. It's okay, you can admit it, I won't think less of any of you. Heheh."

Garrus 9 – Amphitheatre

”I will believe it when I see it,” Hun-Grr snarled as he spat a glob of something on the floor. ”They look too twitchy and brooding to be real warriors. All this power at their disposal and they don't embrace it? They accept weakness. It sickens me.”

Snaptrap did not reply to either of Hun-Grr’s assessments. Any further speculation about the Monstercons would be pointless. All that really mattered was that they served as valuable assets to the cause. Whether they wanted to or not. Hun-Grr’s commentary on the Technobots caused the Butcher of the Bogs to glance at the original Terrorcon. No Autobot special team had earned Snaptrap’s disdain as the Technobots had Hun-Grr’s it seemed.

“Their extermination is entirely up to Scorponok,” Snaptrap stated flatly.

There was a brief pause in their conversation that allowed the Seacon Commander to ponder how sociable Hun-Grr was being. In his own way. Snaptrap was obliging him more out of respect for the Terrorcon Commander than anything else. The Seacon Commander wasn’t exactly known for his exemplary social skills and talkative, friendly manner.

”I see what you are looking at,” Hun-Gar growled quietly, ”The old brainiac. He is holding back. Scheming something. I want to slash his armor open and see if he will be as smug when I rip out of his spark casing.”

“I share a similar sentiment,” Snaptrap replied quietly. “But for now, he is of use. Though…he may be too great a risk to use for long.” The Butcher’s amber optics flickered ominously as his grip tightened on his sword imperceptibly. The praetor was from the bygone age when Cybertronians still followed Primes. An age that the Decepticons stood firmly against.

Garrus-9 – Mine Ventilation Shafts

It had felt like an eternity of waiting. Umbra supposed it might have had something to do with the dually exhilarating and terrifying feeling of sneaking around, hoping she wouldn’t be caught. To just wait calmly in the vent was quite nerve-wracking what with all the sounds of insecticons, guards, and working prisoners nearby. She had stopped going upward after passing a few grates leading out into the mines. It was a relief when the comm unit crackled back to life.

>>"Alright listen up Umbrella, you're about to be guided by none other than Cybertron's perfect little angel himself from here on out. Now if I remember right, there's a grate about a hundred meters or so that'll lead out into a sanitation closet. Pop out through that grate and I'll fill you in one the next step."<<

>>”Umbrella?”<< Umbra echoed through the comm quizzically. This wasn’t Pointblank, but that Whirl character from earlier. Still, if he knew what he was talking about, she couldn’t complain. She kept travelling upward, keeping her optics peeled for the grate the former Wrecker mentioned. Still, as she did that, there was a nagging feeling at the back of her mind. Something that wanted her new guide to know the truth.

>>”So, uh,”<< Umbra started uncertainly. She hadn’t done herself any favors with her earlier phrasing. It was just…she hardly could forgive herself for all she’d done. Maybe she didn’t want understanding or forgiveness. >>”Um. There’s…something you should probably know about me…”<<

Umbra paused however when she saw another grate just ahead. She quietly worked her way up to it and peered through the slits. Looked like a sanitation closet to her. Bracing herself in the shaft carefully, she applied pressure to one end of the grate, cringing as it popped open with a crunch of metal. It hadn’t been all that loud, but it was enough to make Umbra feel relatively uncomfortable.

Snaking her hand through the grate as she removed the stasis cuffs that had been hanging loosely around her wrists, she unscrewed the other parts of the grate more quietly, and finally dropped into the sanitation closet. She replaced the grate and stashed the stasis cuffs behind some supplies. She flipped on the Decepticon IFF, and glanced about making sure all was accounted for. Good. Good.

>>”Alright, I’m in the sanitation closet, Whirl. What’s next?”<< Umbra asked.

Her thoughts flicked to Bludgeon. Should…should she give him a report? Maybe a small one. Consisting of her current location. Yeah. That would do. That would be alright. It wouldn’t give too much away and would tide him over for the time being. Until…until she could sort some things out. Sending an information burst to Bludgeon, Umbra nodded to herself. That would be fine.

For now.

Rung’s Office

It hadn’t taken Lobe and Synapse long to make the trek down to the former psychotherapist’s office and it was done in relative silence.

Once they’d arrived Synapse dove headlong into his search while Lobe picked his way around the room picking up and handling the few odds and end still littering the office.

“Oh bother,” Synapse said as he rifled through the desk and various drawers.

Lobe looked over his shoulder at his companion while he also picked up one of the model ships off the shelf to inspect. “What is it?” he asked.

“It’s all gone.”

With a slight shrug the scientist placed back the ship while his other self picked over several datapads. “That’s a shame. Now you’ve really got your work cut out for you. Heh.”

“I can’t say I hadn’t expected as much.”

Lobe said nothing in response; instead he kept looking over the shelves of models. With another ship in his hands Lobe gestured to it by lifting it a bit higher. “The Fateful Archetype. I heard through sources it was destroyed possibly with only one survivor.” He placed the piece back on the shelf and slowly stepped away. “Whoever he was he certainly had an impressive collection.”

“Well, on to collect your specimens. Shall we?”

The bot standing by the shelves clapped his hands together while the other bot made his way to Synapse’s side. “Yes! Let us get back on track.” The bot that had been making his way towards Synapse noticed how the psychiatrist stiffened and exited the room…and now that he was near the exit he could see why.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” The bot near the door spat. He slowly raised his hands while the other bot still in the room rolled his head and followed suit.

Lobe came to stand on either side of Synapse, hands raised while three Autobots held them at gunpoint. “Do something. You’re a psychiatrist…get in their heads, talk them down.” He ground out lowly to Synapse.

“Quiet. You three do as we say and you might make it out of this alive.” One of the Autobots said hoarsely.

Amphitheater

"Content yourself with the reality that your function will soon be obsolete, young gladiator. Your interminable war will, at long last, meet its end. Perhaps, when you are faced with that reality, your existence will find a greater purpose?"

Obsolete? What the slag was the demented fossil saying? Demolisher's green optics flared to life as he focused on evaluating Jhiaxus' threat level through his tactical hud for the upteenth time within the last few cycles he had been acting as the bodyguard for the archaid scientist. Despite being told to provide protection to the valuable asset that the scientist was, Demolishor found himself feeling uneasy in Jhiaxus' presence. Like so many other Decepticons it seemed. Jhiaxus just felt wrong. He did not belong. Demolishor wanted him gone. He wanted no part in the crazy talk of all being one. And being obsolete? Obsolete was a word no Decepticon wanted to hear. Not after all the oppression by the functionalists. After having been tossed aside useless on a whim of another set of supremacists – the Functionalist Council.

Then again. Jhiaxus did bring up a concept of finding a greater purpose. Perhaps there really was something like that to be achieved even by someone like Demolishor. But the truth to the matter was that Demolishor preferred to be told what to do. He preferred following the ideals of those more creative than himself to crafting a way of his own. And Megatron had given him a purpose. Without Decepticons he had nothing. He would be just another aimless drifter waiting for his inevitable end in the hands of those who claimed to be superior to others through setting up caste systems based on something as ridiculous as what one turned into.

He did not want his life to become obsolete. Nor it would. Megatron's wisdom was meant to spread across the stars. No, across galaxies and the known and unknown parts of the universe itself - after the civil war against the Autobots would finally be over of course. A task of such grand scale that it was potentially endless. He had a purpose. And it was glorious. Jhiaxus was a small minded fool if could not see its greatness.

Indeed, the conclusion Demolishor's thoughts had reached pleased him greatly. Something he only indicated to Jhiaxus through barely noticeable shake of his head and a smile which told a story of a being content with his place and purpose in the grand scheme of things.

Amphitheater

Scorponok had been supervising Firewire's and Jhiaxus' work on their patients when his proximity sensors finally alerted him of a moment approaching he had been waiting for quite a while. Leaving Fast-Track to continue his observations, Scorponok moved to face the entrance to the the Amphitheater as if he had precognitation over the arrival of Cyclonus and his men. And most of all the enormous Autobot they had brought before him. The very same one he defeated in a titanic duel less than an orn ago – Fortress Maximus, the Warden of Garrus-9 and a long standing member of the Autobot High Command.

”Ah, Fortress Maximus. I am glad you could make it,” Scorponok jovially greeted his age old nemesis and spread his arms wide open to emphasis his mockery of hospitality towards the Autobot leader.

”Welcome!” Scorponok's voice boomed thorough the amphitheater, ”Welcome, my old foe, to witnessing a key moment in the most devastating Decepticon victory over your so called Autobot commonwealth in the last 1700 vorns of our war.”

With a self-satisfied smirk spread across his visage, Scorponok continued his gloating, ”It took a master puppeteer with a mind of a genius to machinate a plan of such a grand scale. And patience equal to several lifespans of most biological species of the galaxy, I might add.”

”But here we are Maximus,” the gargantuan Decepticon general spoke up and pulled Maximus' chin up with the tip of his claw so that the severely weakened Autobot would have to face him instead of staring at the ground, ”Your fortress lies in ruins. Your forces broken and defeated. Your prisoners freed.”

”And I,” Scorponok's smug grin only grew wider, ”I have gained an access to resources that together with my triumph over your forces here and through my conquest of Nebulos will ensure a final Decepticon victory over your precious Prime sooner than you care to think. We finally have you on the ropes and you do not even have an inkling how all of this came to pass.”

Scorponok let his hold of Maximus' chin go and spread his claw open as if to offer Maximus a hand to pull him up, ”You are not the only one taken down either. Oh no. Your old friend Thunderclash has fallen as well. I just received the word from Skyquake,” Scorponok continued, twisting the proverbial dagger in Maximus' back.

Pulling his claw away as he had no intention of helping the warden stand up, Scorponok turned his gaze from the Autobot commander to his forces, letting his optics sweep over them, ”While none of this could have happened without my genius, I have to thank the tactical brilliance of my greatest generals – Cyclonus and Turmoil. Not to mention my loyal Decepticon forces that rose to the occasion and made our triumph possible!”

”And yet,” Scorponok's foreboding gaze fell back on Fortress Maximus as his message reached new sinister heights, ”I could have never achieved this victory with so little casualties were it not for you Maximus.”

Moments of grandstanding like these were rare. He would crush the warden's spirit and lay down the seeds of doubt within his spark. The humilation of defeat was not enough. He wanted Maximus to fall victim of his own self doubt. The very same doubts that had pulled the warden away from the frontlines of the war in the first place.

”How else we could have struck down your defenses with such ease?” Scorponok questioned gleefully before releasing the information he believed would leave the warden even more devastated than the actual defeat he had suffered in Scorponok's hands.

”You were betrayed Maximus,” Scorponok divulged his message, relishing the moment. The look on Scorponok's face grew practically euphoric as he waited for Maximus' reaction to his words, ”Your Autobots made this all possible. You have traitors within Maximus.”

”This was all your fault.”

Garrus-9 - Corridors

“Do something. You’re a psychiatrist…get in their heads, talk them down.”

”It’s not as simple as sticking some needles into their neck, Lobe,” Synapse hissed back to the mnemosurgeon.

“Quiet. You three do as we say and you might make it out of this alive.”

“Yes, of course, you’ll get no trouble from us,” Synapse replied, straightening as the Autobot barked out orders hoarsely. The avian Decepticon’s optics fell upon the motley trio of Autobots. They did not appear to be in the best shape – not that Synapse was willing to risk anything when their guns were pointed squarely at him and Lobe. Some Decepticons might be able to shrug off a blast from pointblank range. Lobe and Synapse were not them.

The psychotherapist considered his options. There was a slight chance that he and Lobe’s dual forms could overpower the Autobots. Very slight. And with his luck? He did not want to risk it even remotely. Alternatively, he could call upon Lord Scorponok or even Cyclonus for assistance, yet…Synapse did not wish to appear entirely inept and helpless after his last conversation with Scorponok either. He had his Decepticon pride, did he not? Was he or was he not a fully grown and capable mechanoid? No.

There was a certain risk that came with a psychotherapist being in Autobot custody. He simply knew too much. That was dangerous. However, it was dangerous only if these Autobots realized it, which…it did not appear that they did. Finally, a stroke of luck!

That being said, these Autobots were haggard. Synapse could see the fear in their optics. They had likely hidden away somewhere while their comrades were slaughtered by invading Decepticon forces. That alone would leave marks. It seemed they had been through quite the ordeal to remain hidden as well. Perhaps even having almost been caught. Perhaps even…killed one of his own and stowed the body? Entirely possible, though Synapse shuddered to think of it.

“We’re too exposed here,” said one of the Autobots to another, “We need to move.”

“Alright. Yeah, okay,” said the other in reply before glaring at the two captive Decepticons. “You three are our tickets to freedom, don’t get any funny ideas.”

“Starport’s that way,” said the third, as the three Autobots shifted their formation to one suitable for the escort of prisoners. Hm. Probably prison guards then. “Move, Decepticreeps.”

The gun prodded Synapse’s back, sending him forward a few steps. “Now, gentlemechs,” Synapse began.

“Can it.”

“Well, I would, really, but you aren’t planning to steal some sort of craft from the starport by any chance? Because, ah, that would not work out as you intend, I fear,” he continued nervously.

“And why is that?” came the taunting reply.

“Well, whether you think we have some sort of codes or our own ID signatures will get you into the air safely, you will not get very far. Firstly, an Autobot craft will just immediately get us shot down. There is a whole fleet in orbit, I’m afraid, and I’ve no wish to visit the Maker quite yet. A Decepticon craft will get you further, admittedly, but not past orbit even with us aboard. We Decepticons have a rather – ahem – harsh outlook on desertion. As such, Lord Scorponok gave very specific orders that any ships trying to leave the fleet blockade without direct authorization are to be, ah, shot down.”

Glancing back at his Autobot captors, Synapse could see that his words struck true. They were exchanging nervous looks. Let alone their body language. “Now, your options are quite limited. I assume surrender is off the table…?”

“You assume correct,” one of the Autobots barked with a jab of his gun.

Synapse let out a little sigh. “Correctly, you mean,” he said, correcting the Autobot on his grammar. “Well, with that being the case and the added condition of you three not meeting your untimely end, I see only that you remain on the premises and hope that you can remain hidden...”

“In that case, I don’t see why we need you three anymore,” one of the Autobots hissed.

“Or! Or! There is another option!” Synapse added hastily.

“Spit it out.”

“You could…potentially…stow away on a Decepticon warship, thereby getting you off world, allowing you to escape via an escape pod to another world when the opportunity arose.” The Autobots looked at one another, considering the options that Synapse had laid out before them. Their guns lowered slightly lowered as they did, causing Synapse to tense a little. Part of him wanted to pounce upon them and take his chances while they were distracted. There was always the chance that Deadlock would take this moment to appear, thereby greatly increasing their chances of survival. Synapse glanced at Lobe anxiously.

Garrus-9 - Amphitheatre

”You may be too quick to thank me.”

Slog’s face fell somewhat at Scorponok’s words.

”For I will need to use him. Perhaps sooner than I would like to.”

It fell more as sobering reality crashed back onto the Monstercon artist’s shoulders. He had been naïve. To hope. To think that…well, Slog wasn’t sure what he had thought. Freedom? He had thought he was long past such hopes.

”This blasted war has to be brought to an end before we are no more. Take solace in the fact that you can no longer be lost in him, nor are you confined within the walls of Garrus-9. You have been reunited with your Decepticon brothers. I promise you - Monstructor does not define you. He does not control you. He will be a tool to be used to bring Megatron's dream to fruition. Our dream.”

“Yes, our…our dream,” Slog muttered, more to himself than to the second fleet commander. It had been a long time since those old dreams had seemed like a reality, trapped within these infernal walls of Garrus-9. Slog had even resigned himself to never having freedom beyond them again. It was strange to be reunited with their Decepticon brethren after so long. It hardly felt real.

”You may not realize it due to the unfortunate circumstances that led to you being lost to us but you are icons to many Decepticons. You both have given our cause much during its early days before your imprisonment. Without your efforts our rebellion against the Functionalist and the corrupt Senate might never have gained the support it did.”

As an unexpected, friendly smile formed on Scorponok’s face, Slog’s visor widened slightly. Slog remembered so little of the early days now. Distant memories. Recollections. At the time, it hadn’t seemed like…well. They had hardly known what they were getting into. But it seemed like his art had served a purpose after all. That made Slog somewhat glad.

”Be proud. Be strong. Take back what was taken from you. And live again.”

Slog would do what he could for his team. He was neither proud nor strong, but he would do what he could for them.

"He's right, of course," Icepick said, somewhat resignedly as he looked over at his Unit Commander. "Monstructor. Whatever they turn out to be...Becoming more than what we are. It's what we've always done. Maybe this is the last step. Maybe this is where the war finally ends."

“Perhaps so, Icepick,” Slog replied, stepping over to his comrade and placing a hand on his shoulder. “At least we go forward reunited with our Decepticon brothers and the knowledge that at the end of the cycle, we are no longer his slaves.”

“Hey! Next! Chop, chop!” Firewire called from the berth. The other Monstercons had been examined by both Firewire and Gadget or simply just Firewire, so Slog finally relented, stepping up to the berth and hoisting himself up onto it. The petite femme went about her work with mechanical efficiency in relative silence, which seemed different from her former self. But Monstructor would have that effect on others.

After a terse breem or so, Firewire finished, giving Slog a weary thumbs up. The Monstercon unit commander slid off the berth. She was prepping a report for Lord Scorponok when Cyclonus arrived with Fortress Maximus in tow. She waited as he began to speak to the former prison warden. It turned into something of a rousing speech from her commander. The weariness lifted from her face as her spirits did the same. She let out a cheer as Scorponok’s optics swept over his collective forces, thanking them all for their contribution to their triumph.

“Whooo!” she squeaked with as much energy as she had left in her.

As Scorponok’s speech reached something of a lull, Firewire opened their little private communication channel quickly, >>”The Monstercons are good to go. No injuries or problems with the inhibitors. As for my new bumbling assistant, his name is Gadget. I’m not letting him access any combiner information, but I’ll do a thorough check after you’ve no need of me if you like, Lord Scorpynok.”<<

Firewire had said it all as fast as she could to fit into the brief lull. Stumbling forward tiredly, she tugged on Kronus’s arm. “Hey Kronus. Bolts for brains. Probably wanna get back to where we were before. You know. Get the distance. From them.” She waved back in the direction of the Monstercons. “Oh yeah, I need to get him too. You go ahead.” Firewire trotted over to Gadget, tugging on the larger mech’s arm.

“Time to go, Gadget. C’mon. Chip, chop.” Firewire turned and trotted back over to the area where Scorponok stood. If anything were to go awry, she wanted to be near the most powerful mech in the room. Followed by the lesser powerful, but not to be discounted powerful mechs gathered near him. Her mission was simply not to be squished and or eaten by Hun-Grr. Just another day in the life of one of her stature.

Garrus-9 – Amphitheater

They had rushed, as quickly as possible, through the corridors and only slowed once they were standing before the doors to the Amphitheater. Cipher grew excited as they approached wondering just what he’d find through the doors beyond.

He gripped Mindwipe’s hand just a tad tighter as he neatly slipped through the portal and into the large room. Within he took stock of who was where and what they were doing.

“How intriguing. It seems that our Lord has made quite a bit of progress in our absence.” Cipher whispered to Mindwipe. It was then he realized he was still gripping the hypnotist’s hand. Cipher sent an awkward smile at his comrade as he let his hand fall to his side.

*Ahem* “Well, now. What do you say I find out just what happened.” With that his smile grew wider and he stepped further into the room. He halted in the center and took in the entirety of the room. After a few moments everything came to him. A behemoth whose touch meant death. Six Decepticons almost as big as the room. The occupants cowering in terror. All of it came crashing in over him. Cipher gasped and moved until he had backed into Mindwipe.

“A beast. Those six…” Cipher pointed a shaky finger at the Monstructor Six. “Lord Scorponok has control of a new weapon.” He looked over his shoulder at the other mech. “Our war is about to change.”

Cipher caught sight of Slog and Icepick and moved to stand before them. His optics narrowed as he leaned in close. “You will be the turning point in this war.” He straightened up, nodded and smiled.

Garrus-9 – Amphitheatre

The larger monstrosity known as Monstructor had split apart into its component pieces. All of which Spinister took aim at before eventually settling down. He hadn’t much cared for the heavy weight on his spark or the gestalt’s murderous optics. He practically radiated bloodlust. Thankfully, his components, the Monstructor Six, did not. Which was the only reason that Spinister calmed down at all.

Crimson optics turned to Scorponok as an injured Fortress Maximus was dragged into the chamber. While cheers filled the room at Scorponok’s gloating, Spinister’s voice was not one of them. His optics instead darted around the room for any vaguely hostile shapes. He knew almost immediately what he did not like. The Technobots in front of him. For one. Autobots. Never liked them even when they were restrained.

Fort Max. For two. Again. Autobot. A very big one. And dangerous even if injured or restrained. Did not care for him.

For three. The strange mech standing beside Scorponok. He wore no Deceptibrand, but he also wore no Autobrand. An unknown factor. The other Decepticons around him seemed tense too. He was bad news. Spinister’s grip tightened on his guns, ready to whip them out at a moment’s notice.

With Fort Max came the Decepticon escort group including Stranglehold who had been uncharacteristically quiet along the way. A scowl was affixed to the enforcer’s face. He had been soundly ignored as Cyclonus and Bludgeon had carried on their lovely conversation. He wasn’t bothered by it, or so he told himself. Still, he had nothing to add so he kept his trap shut.

At least Scorponok knew how to gloat. And gloat he did, firmly rubbing it in the former warden’s face that he had failed. That brought back the characteristic smirk to Stranglehold’s mustachioed faceplate. He regretfully noted that he should have probably gotten in a few swift kicks in to Fortress Maximus while he could. Oh well. There might be more chances in the future.

Garrus-9 Central--Amphitheater

Explosions.

Debris.

"That was a close one," Maximus said, his voice hazy.

"Too close, lieutenant. Keep an eye on your blindside," the young Prime said, before charging over the mound.

”Ah, Fortress Maximus. I am glad you could make it. Welcome! Welcome, my old foe, to witnessing a key moment in the most devastating Decepticon victory over your so called Autobot commonwealth in the last 1700 vorns of our war.”

”It took a master puppeteer with a mind of a genius to machinate a plan of such a grand scale. And patience equal to several lifespans of most biological species of the galaxy, I might add. But here we are Maximus, Your fortress lies in ruins. Your forces broken and defeated. Your prisoners freed. And I...I have gained an access to resources that together with my triumph over your forces here and through my conquest of Nebulos will ensure a final Decepticon victory over your precious Prime sooner than you care to think. We finally have you on the ropes and you do not even have an inkling how all of this came to pass.”

”You are not the only one taken down either. Oh no. Your old friend Thunderclash has fallen as well. I just received the word from Skyquake. While none of this could have happened without my genius, I have to thank the tactical brilliance of my greatest generals – Cyclonus and Turmoil. Not to mention my loyal Decepticon forces that rose to the occasion and made our triumph possible! And yet, I could have never achieved this victory with so little casualties were it not for you Maximus. How else we could have struck down your defenses with such ease?"

”You were betrayed Maximus."

"Your Autobots made this all possible. You have traitors within Maximus.”

”This was all your fault.”

Fortress Maximus lolled in and out of semi-consciousness. For a time he thought he had surely been experiencing another dream--or a nightmare--but this was neither. He had come to the gut crunching conclusion that the sights surrounding him now were all too real. This was his new reality.

And as he struggled to look up again under his own strength, he saw not only surrounding him, but caving in on him, the enormity of his defeat. He saw his men in chains, literal or otherwise, strapped to slabs and undergoing horrors that he couldn't begin to imagine. He saw evil mocking him in front of his troops. He saw evil staring down at him--evil that he had thought would be locked away forever. He had truly failed the valiant Prime that took him under his wing as one of his many trusted soldiers all those vorns ago. And at the end of it all, he saw nothing that he could do about it.

"End......it....," he groaned out, his metallic voice hoarse with strain and injury.

Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

One holoscreen flickered into existence, shimmered for a few moments and then vanished only to be replaced by another. Overall, matters seemed to be proceeding as they should down on the prison. It was a Decepticon outpost now. Stray Decepticons wandered the h battle-worn corridors here and there, small units hunted down any stray Autobot holdouts that could be found and life was proceeding more or less as it should at this point.

One screen, however, caught Reflector's specific attention as it flickered to life. A feed of the amphitheater, the new gathering place of choice for the High Commander and his warriors as it was the focus of the ancient scientist's labors. And what labors they were. The Technobots seemed to be coming along nicely. And now even Fortress Maximus had managed to be awakened from his journey to the edge of obliteration and could witness the work firsthand.

It was the most satisfying display he had watched in some time.
___

Garrus-9 Central Amphitheater

With the warden delivered successfully, Cyclonus stepped away and deeper into the amphitheater itself, not far from Scorponok's position as he addressed the once powerful Autobot as well as his own legion of subordinates. The purple warrior listened, but also took care to scan the room, assessing everything that was in progress. When he looked up, he saw that Jhiaxus was staring specifically in his direction. He could not deny that it had a somewhat eerie effect, but he had known the praetor for a long time so it was not especially difficult to meet his gaze and hold it. Even so, it made him wonder how much of the mech he knew still remained. What exactly lingered behind the optics of Jhiaxus now? Only he himself would know for sure, he supposed.

Looking away, he could not help but feel himself stirred by Scorponok's rousing words and his systematic crushing of Fortress Maximus' body and now his mind. He would be nothing more than a shell of the mech he was.

Maximus, for his part, looked like he was straining to comprehend anything that was going on around him. But eventually it hit him, Cyclonus could see it: the enormity of his defeat was devastating. After silence that seemed like it could extend forever, Maximus finally spoke. His request? For Scorponok to finally end his torture. Cyclonus' optics flicked to Scorponok's imposing form.

Would he?

Garrus-9 Central--Amphitheater

Lightspeed craned his head to look at what the sudden surge of activity and excitement was all about. He could see Seekers, Sweeps and other Decepticon warriors tittering amongst themselves and pointing. Then...

...oh no...

Max.

Lightspeed rested his head against the slab, looking up into the vast, star-covered expanse of space that lay visible above them through the transparent ceiling. His mind swam over the myriad of reasons that Scorponok would have him brought here, but even so, he had to work to focus on the best and not the worst of those possibilities. At least if he was here that meant he was alive, if only just barely. Hopefully his physiology was not compatible with the gestalt creation process. If he was, surely Jhiaxus would have figured that out by now. Lightspeed shuddered to think what a combiner formed from Fortress Maximus and who knows who else could become. At least if it was under the thrall of Scorponok.

What a horrorshow this was.

Amphitheater

"End......it....,"

”Such a tempting plea Maximus. Tempting indeed,” Scorponok chuckled – quite clearly pleased with himself having struck such a blown mentally against his arch enemy. And yet, there it was – that lingering doubt in the back of his head. How long had we wanted this? To have the mighty Fortress Maximus at his mercy, his claw around the Autobot's cranial unit – squeezing the life out of this insufferable pest that couldn't stop fighting valiantly for the corrupt ways of the old. And yet despite of these dreams of crushing this Autobot – Scorponok could not deny the great respect he held for Fortress Maximus. If only the Warden had chosen differently. All those untold possibilities. Such a waste of life.

To kill him now and be done with it? Tempted by Maximus' own words, Scorponok closed his right claw around Fortress Maximus' head but only just enough to keep the warden firmly in his place. Or to spare him? For what? To be paraded in chains before enemies and allies alike to show everyone how futile his resistance had been? To be thrown at Megatron's feet to be judged by their true leader? Perhaps. Yes. Perhaps it was time to humor his troops. Let them have at least the illusion of getting a word in deciding the fate of their mortal enemy. The general responsible of the deaths of countless of their comrades. The Autobot that had cost them more battles than anyone else save perhaps Optimus Prime himself.

With Maximus' head still in his unbreakable vice-grip, Scorponok lifted his gaze from the giant Autobot to his men, letting his gaze sweep across the amphitheater.

”What do you say my Decepticons?!” He boomed, ”Should I honor Fortress Maximus' plea and end his struggle here and now?!”

”Or should I march him to Kolkular in chains to be judged by the mighty Megatron himself?! Denying this servant of Primes the easy way out and making him answer for the numerous crimes he and his kind have have committed against us - the oppressed, us - whom they forced to do whatever they pleased based on our forms alone for eons until we said no more!”

Garrus-9 – The Amphitheater

Rippersnapper continued to watch as events unfolded. Monstructor had been brought down to his knees by a single word and shortly thereafter the combiner declared his allegiance to Lord Scorponok. Once that had been asserted, the High Commander did something that forced the great gestalt to break apart again into his component pieces, the Monstercons. Thus, not only did Scorponok have the power to control the behemoth’s actions when whole, but he could also separate them at will, as well. Excellent. Then there would be no further concern about this enormous creature running amok again. At least that’s what the shark-former hoped.

Afterwards, the former actor watched with little interest as each Monstercon was checked out by Gadget and Firewire. The gestalt process was clearly intense and had affected Slog’s unit physically and even mentally. Rippersnapper wondered if that would be the case with any new combiners that were created. The Technobots seemed to be next on the list as far as test subjects were concerned. Better to see the affects on them first then to put more Decepticons through what would amount to a torturous process. If it was a success then Ripper looked forward to possibly becoming part of a Terrorcon gestalt. Image the power of the five Terrorcons combined. They could very well be greater than Monstructor could ever have been or hoped to be!

Rippersnapper kept a close optic on his HUD as his internal repair systems continued to work. Soon he would be fully functional again and he could then return to his land shark mode. Until then he remained idle, waiting for any new orders to come from his commander. Speaking of Hun-grrr, he was now conversing over with Snaptrap. The former actor did not try and listen in as he would likely feel the back hand of the Terrorcon leader. Instead, Ripper remained where he was and watched Blot follow their master like a little puppy-con, picking his teeth as he sat himself down.

“Oy,” was all that Rippersnapper could utter under his breath, his attention drawn towards the old mech who had made this all possible, Jhiaxus. He seemed strange and weak, this mad scientist. The fact that he did not bare the Decepticon brand on his chassis was a cause of concern. Surely, he was no Autobot, but was he really loyal to the Decepticon cause? It was something to consider, but not something for the shark-former to worry about. That was well above his energon grade. Ripper would let the high ups worry about Jhiaxus while the terrorist concerned himself more with his next meal or Autobot he could dissect.

After a brief period of boredom, the prone form of none other than Fortress Maximus was brought into the chamber by Cyclonus and several other Decepticons. The warden looked to still be in bad shape, but he was conscious once again and able to see what the mad scientist had been able to accomplish and what he would soon transform the Technobots into. After Scorponok greeted Maximus and gloated over the Decepticon victory not only here but also elsewhere, the High Commander told his rival a devastating secret. Rippersnapper listened carefully as Scorponok revealed that Maximus had been betrayed by one of his own. That’s how the Decepticons had been able to crush the Autobots with such ease. It was all the warden’s fault!

Rippersnapper smiled with glee as the once great Fortress Maximus begged for Scorponok to end it. Oh, yes, please end him, the shark-former thought to himself as he began to salivate. That would be something to cherish indeed. Imagine the sheer amount of food that could feed the likes of the former actor and his Terrorcon brethren, assuming, of course, he would be allowed to dine on such a corpse as the former warden of Garrus-9. Probably not, but a terrorist could dream.

Scorponok did not outright end Maximus’ suffering. No. Instead, he turned to all of the Decepticons gathered within the Amphitheater and asked them if he should honor the warden’s wishes or if the Autobot Commander should be brought to Kolkular in chains and be judged by Megatron, himself, for the crimes and oppression committed against the Decepticons. As much as Ripper wanted to eat Fortress Maximus, he would much rather watch him ultimately face the slagmaker’s wrath.

Thus, Rippersnapper cautiously stepped forward to address Scorponok. “I say take him to Kolkular to face judgment, my lord! He should suffer for his crimes as we have all suffered!”

Garrus-9--Amphitheater

“How intriguing. It seems that our Lord has made quite a bit of progress in our absence.”

"I...I should say so..." Mindwipe said, his thoughts trailing off as his optics stared in wonderment at Jhiaxus and Scorponok's current undertakings. They truly were remaking their species, in a way. It was fascinating.

*Ahem* “Well, now. What do you say I find out just what happened.”

Mindwipe nodded approvingly.

"A beast. Those six…Lord Scorponok has control of a new weapon. Our war is about to change.”

Again, a nod, as Mindwipe himself attempted to absorb the enormity of what all was taking place within this room in such a relatively short span of time. This would change the war. Cipher had backed into him. Mindwipe held out his hands to steady him and ensure he didn't trip in the awe of the moment. That would be unseemly.

It seemed as if some of the individual Monstercons had caught Cipher's attention also.

“You will be the turning point in this war,” he said, almost as if to encourage them. Perhaps he was.

"You surely will," he said, sensing some of the raw, collective emotion that was emanating off the six of them. "Let not your sparks be troubled, brethren. You may be the key to delivering us all into Megatron's peaceful tyranny."

Before Mindwipe could go much further, Mindwipe's optics were pulled in the direction of another interaction, this one almost as juicy as the assortment of mechanoids splayed out before them. High Commander Scorponok and the battered and broken form of General Fortress Maximus. My my my. It wasn't long before Scorponok's booming voice filled the amphitheater's walls.

”What do you say my Decepticons?! Should I honor Fortress Maximus' plea and end his struggle here and now?!

”Or should I march him to Kolkular in chains to be judged by the mighty Megatron himself?! Denying this servant of Primes the easy way out and making him answer for the numerous crimes he and his kind have have committed against us - the oppressed, us - whom they forced to do whatever they pleased based on our forms alone for eons until we said no more!”

Mindwipe looked to Cipher and then slowly to other Decepticons that had filled the amphitheater, with more arriving from the different entry doors. For just a few astroseconds or so, all was quiet, then one of the beastly Terrorcons was the first to chime in.

"I say take him to Kolkular to face judgment, my lord! He should suffer for his crimes as we have all suffered!”

"Death!" called out another.

"Rip his spark out!"

"Bring him to Megatron!"

The catcalls were starting to come from around the room and become more boisterous with each moment.

"Judgement! To Megatron!" Mindwipe called out, adding to the growing cacophony, before returning his focus to Cipher, curious as to what fate he would desire for the impressive Autobot that had been responsible for the fall of so many of their comrades.

Amphitheater

Snaptrap had stated the obvious. Of course he shared similar statement. The Seacon knew Hun-Grr was right. Jhiaxus could not be trusted and yet he was too valuable to dispose off. It irritated the Terrorcon leader like a rust rash you couldn't get rid off.

"Hopefully sooner rather than later," he had growled as a reply to the Seacon commander's words before Scorponok had captured the attention of every Decepticon within the amphitheater by berating his ages old nemesis and in the end - rising a question to be answered by the Decepticons he commanded. A question Hun-Gurr had been eager to answer. Only that one of his own did so first.

Oh Rippersnapper. You shouldn't have. Had the aquatic Terrorcon seen the scowl on Hun-Grrr's face he'd likely have leaked himself – for the leader of the Terrorcons was not pleased that one of his minions had decided to voice his opinion to Scorponok's query to this troops before Hun-Gurr himself had done so. Even worse, Rippersnapper's opinion was not that of the mightiest of the Terrorcons.

While the likes of Demolishor were calling for Fortress Maximus to be brought before Megatron for judgement, Hun-Garr wanted him dead. Here and now. Preferably through his own jaws, with the carcass given to him to devour while the Autobot general still lived. Not that he was going to argue Scorponok regarding that. The honor for the kill was the High Commander's – he had been the one to defeat the mighty Autobot warrior after all. Scorponok's victory – Scorponok's decision.

However Rippersnapper should have known better. All of his pack should. When it came to the Terrorcons, only one opinion mattered. His. The other three ought to be smarter. But it was not the time yet to educate Rippersnapper or any of the others. For now the only indication Hun-Grr gave regarding his opinion was a gesture representing slitting one's throat with a knife when Scorponok's optics swept over his position.

Death. Maximus deserved no less.

Garrus-9 – Amphitheatre

"Hopefully sooner rather than later."

“Agreed,” Snaptrap said simply to the original Terrorcon. While speaking with Hun-Grrr had been a rare and somewhat interesting diversion, the Seacon Commander’s attention snapped to Scorponok as he berated his age old rival and nemesis. Snaptrap found it convenient that he lacked such things as a personal nemesis. While Hun-Grr had Scattershot, Snaptrap had long since vanquished any Autobot that irked him personally. To be fair, it might have more to do with Snaptrap’s even treatment of all Autobots. They were all to be met with the slaughter eventually.

And as Scorponok questioned his troops with his burning question, Snaptrap’s answer was the same as it had ever been. Some called for Fortress Maximus to be brought before Megatron before his death, but Snaptrap saw no sense in that. If they still functioned, they continued to be a threat. Even an Autobot defeated could rise to steal victory from their grasp. No. Snaptrap’s hatred for all Autobots was as great as it was equal. It demanded equal sentence.

The Butcher of the Bogs met Scorponok’s optics with his own smoldering amber ones as they swept over him. He merely shook his head in the negative, indicating his preference. Hun-Grr was of a similar opinion as he could see when the Second Fleet Commander’s gaze swept over the Terrorcon Commander.

Death. There was simply no other course in his optics.


As the little scientist and her friends moved away, Slog could not help but feel some degree of gloom. Yes, their combined form was as fearsome as it was monstrous. And perhaps they would herald the end of the war. Icons to inspire perhaps. Slog could hear it from Scorponok and take some heart, but it did not erase the dread lingering in his spark.

As a new face appeared curiously before Slog, the artist was somewhat taken aback. Now who was this?

“You will be the turning point in this war.”

The strange mech then straightened, nodded as if to himself, and smiled. Slog stared at him quizzically. “Yes…quite…” he managed after a moment. As Fortress Maximus was berated and shamed by Scorponok, Slog tensed a bit, feeling the shift in atmosphere. He looked to Cipher and Mindwipe with some amount of concern.

“It might be best if you two removed yourselves from our vicinity. It could become hazardous to linger,” Slog warned. Monstructor would not show the slightest bit of mercy to anyone close enough to be considered collateral damage, collared or not. He was…he was…Slog felt himself begin to shake. Clutching an arm with the other, the Monstercon artist braced himself against one of the slabs. No. Not…not now. He had to remain…strong.

As Scorponok called for a decision on the ultimate fate of Fortress Maximus, Slog glanced over to the former prison warden, not with malice like many of the Decepticons gathered but with a sense of apathy. During their time here, the warden had not been cruel. He had allowed Slog and his team some allowances of freedom and pleasure. For that, Slog was grateful. And for that, Slog was not sure what the more merciful option would be.

Certainly, the warden called for his own death, but that would come in time regardless. Perhaps it would be more merciful to end it for him now than to be held prisoner for a time before his ultimate doom. Finally regaining enough of his composure to stop shaking, Slog straightened a bit as Scorponok’s gaze swept across his section of the room.

“Judgement,” the Monstercon’s de facto commander called from where he stood, his voice – in a rare moment – sounding at least somewhat full of authority. Far from how Slog actually felt, but at times like these, it was best to make a strong stance. He would not think less of his comrades for choosing differently.


Scrkt, scrkt, sckrt…

Blot’s claws screeched quietly against his teeth as he plucked out the last piece of scrap metal from his teeth. He didn’t bother to get up or move though. His master was still speaking to Snaptrap, so he saw no reason to stray. He did watch with some interest as Scorponok humiliated Fortress Maximus, bringing a wide, toothy grin to the Terrorcon’s faceplate. Ha! Served him right.

It was then when Scorpnok asked the wide audience of Decepticons what to do that his optics immediately went to Hun-Grr for guidance. He only wished what his master did. And he made a gesture so simple that even Blot could understand what his master wanted.

“DEATH!” Blot roared almost immediately after Hun-Grr had made the gesture, supporting his master’s decisions non-verbal communication verbally. His optics narrowed as he realized that Rippersnapper’s earlier reply had not been the same as the master’s. In fact…he had not even consulted Hun-Grr! At this realization, Blot hopped to his feet with a snarl, his glare resting solely upon Rippersnapper. How dare he go against the master!

But…

Blot glanced back at Hun-Grr, hoping the Terrorcon Commander would give him the order to rip his pack-mate’s throat out. He did not want to steal the pleasure of doing so if Hun-Grr was reserving it for himself.


Ugh. Firewire was not feeling great. She was tired. Very tired. She needed like five cubes of a nice high-grade and maybe a recharge cycle to top it off. Spark jumpstarts really took it out of you. She pressed a hand lightly to her chest. Still didn’t feel quite right. Maybe she’d check herself out later. She was the spark scientist after all. Who better to do it?

Swaying slightly on her feet, the petite orange femme perked up a little bit as Scorponok turned his attentions to the newly arrived Fortress Maximus. Oh ho ho! Well, well, look what the Cyclonus had dragged in. A smug smile plastered itself across her faceplate as she set both hands on either hip. Served him right! Meddle with her Lord Scorpy and that’s what you get! What he deserved really. Maximus had been the cause of many a vexation for Scorpynok. Well, no more!

Her grin only widened as Scorponok really stuck the former warden’s face in it, smearing the humiliation and shame around. So good. Firewire’s smile became more genuine as she looked up at Scorponok, happy that he was so genuinely pleased. It had been some time since she had seen him this pleased. But then, he called for a decision, asking a question to all of them.

Firewire blinked her crimson optics, glancing over to Fortress Maximus who had begged for death himself. She scowled at him. Why should he not suffer the way he had made countless other Decepticons suffer? Death was too quick. Too swift a release. Firewire wanted to see him pay for what he’d done to them. To all of them. Prisoners, invasion forces. Decepticons.

“To Megatron! To judgement!” She cried out as loudly as she could, hoping her voice would be heard by Scorponok amongst the others. “Make him suffer for what he’s done to us! He can’t get out of it that easily!”

Stranglehold glanced over to where the little femme was, his optics scanning over to the two Commanders not far away from her. He smirked, wondering if she knew that she was loudly voicing her opinion by two rather fearsome individuals who would disapprove. Ah, oh well. Not really fun to watch a squash match. Well. Maybe it was sometimes. He’d watch that. Pit, he’d help!

But in any case, Stranglehold knew what his vote was. “Bring ‘em to Megatron! Give us a show!” Stranglehold roared, adding his own voice to the chorus. Eh, what could he say. Squash matches weren’t as interesting. Maybe Megatron would put on a show. Even let some of them have at the warden. Good ole fashioned revenge. Ooooh, Strangehold would loooooove that.


“To Megatron,” Spinister said from where he stood, glancing over to the Technobots apprehensively. His voice was quiet. Muted amid the relative noise of the amphitheatre. And that was fine with him. He was more concerned about the Technobots restrained on slabs next to him. The Monstercons had been like that earlier. It made sense that these Autobots might undergo a similar transformation. As such, Scorponok probably had a similar leash installed. Still. It didn’t hurt to be too careful.

They were Autobots after all. No one would care too much if one’s arm got blasted off or another was perforated with holes if they acted the least bit out of line. Still. He was a little close. It wasn’t a problem though. Spinister had his ways. His abilities to melt into the background and appear as if from nowhere. It was simple for him. Easy. He didn’t quite understand why others reacted the way they did. Perhaps it was often they did not realize he was present until his spoke.

Which he did not do often.

At all.

Amphitheater

Jhiaxus watched with detached interest as the passions within the room steadily rose to a fevered pitch. This captured "Autobot" was of no more importance to him than the gladiator who so gleefully sought to make a spectacle of him. Means to an end.

Means to an end...

The praetor's gaze flicked in the direction of a new holoscreen. It indicated that the new mechanoids that had been brought before him had been sufficiently modified. Soon, a new behemoth would rise.
___

Cyclonus stood passively, watching the display play out in front of him. Even so, he was not completely detached. This moment was a long time in coming. For how many vorns now had Fortress Maximus and Scorponok struggled to remove one another from this theater of the war and return to their respective leaders to receive their well-earned commendation.

The temptation to impose a death sentence now was considerable. Cyclonus understood the division that was surely taking place in the High Commander's mind even now, a clear reason why he had thrown the question to his subordinates.

Cyclonus looked around the room as they all offered forth their riotous opinions, calling out in their loudest voices what the Autobot general's fate should ultimately be, hoping that their plea would be the one to ultimately sway the mighty Scorponok. Cyclonus could not pretend to be immune to these passions. He had fought hard for Galvatron and Nova Prime long ago for similar reasons and ultimately turned his loyalty to Megatron because he had been the only Cybertronian he had ever encountered since those halcyon days who had been able to stir those same fires within him. Therefore, if the option was there, Cyclonus knew his preference and he would call it out with the same fiery passion as the others.

"Judgement!" Cyclonus cried, raising a fist. "To the Emperor of Destruction with him! Let us all receive our just rewards for his end!"

Garrus 9 – Amphitheatre

Seawing got bored in the mines and kept on hearing all sorts of rumors. The last one made him decide to abandon his post and see what was going on. The transporting of Fortress Maximus to the amphitheater perked his curiosity way too much to ignore. When he got there, the amphitheater was very crowded and barely caught the last part of Lord Skorponok's speech. For Seawing, the part of deciding the Autobot's fate was well worth any wrath his hard shelled commander would dish out.

"Death to Worthless Minimus! Rip him apart! Send his head to Megatron and the rest of the pieces to the Autobot fleets as a warning to all who stands in the way of the Decepticon second fleet!"

After he voiced his opinion, he looked around and noticed the Butcher talking to the Terrorcon leader. One think head talking to one thick body. The discussion might be enlightening if Seawing thought the two commanders had much of a brain cell. He knew Hung-rr had food on his brain constantly while his own commander did have a bit more in the cranial unit but in Seawing's view, lack ambition.

After he lost interest in whatever those two were talking about, he noticed the five Technobots in strange forms as if they were forced into giant pieces of a gestalt. It then dawned on him that someone decided to try to figure out the gestalt process with only five pieces. The horror of the process bothered Seawing especially if the creature was as wild as Monstructor.

>>So what have I missed while I been baby sitting the mines, Snaptrap? It looks like the Technobots got forced into some odd body shapes. Worthless Minimus is on display and our great Scorponok is letting us decide or at least faking his intentions. Since Skorponok is in the mood to slaughter his former opponent, why doesn't he finish the job on the Technobots? The only good Autobot is a scrapped Autobot, right?<<

Garrus-9--Mines

>>”Alright, I’m in the sanitation closet, Whirl. What’s next?”<<

Pointblank had been listening in to the chatter, just to keep a second pair of audios, so to speak, on any advice that Whirl gave. It might keep the femme alive. It might run her headfirst it a cadre of Decepticons. It was hard to tell.

>>I'm looking at your position now. It looks like you can take either of the two corridors to your left and you'll wind up in the medical bay,"<< Pointblank interjected. >>"If the 'Cons have any shred of decency, they'll have our injured mechs there."<<
___

"Well, that was a bust," Tentakil huffed. "I believe any 'Bots left to be hunted have already been.

"Snaptrap will be happy, I guess. I'm not."

Garrus-9 – Central Wing

>>I'm looking at your position now. It looks like you can take either of the two corridors to your left and you'll wind up in the medical bay,"<< Pointblank interjected. >>"If the 'Cons have any shred of decency, they'll have our injured mechs there."<<

>>”What do you mean by that? Like they’ll put the injured into some trenches to be left to die or something, pft,”<< Umbra commented, putting some effort into an attempt at levity to shake off the nerves that she was feeling. Steeling herself, she made some attempt to relax her features and seem casual. She was a scout. Not a spy. It took a few long moments before she was ready to venture forth.

Well. Actually. Was she a spy now? Not really the time to get into that internal debate. Shaking her head, Umbra exited the sanitation closet and strolled casually out into the open corridor. With the IFF thingy on, she should just be picked up as another Con just having her run of the prisoner after acquiring her freedom. She could do this. She had this.

Taking the corridor to her left as she was directed, Umbra was unpleasantly surprised by the sight of a couple of sweeps walking down the same corridor. She resisted the urge to walk rigidly or jump or avert her optics. Act natural! Natural. What was natural again?! Scrap. Umbra’s optics flicked over to the sweeps in a sideways glance before simply walking past. They seemed busy. Distracted with some orders. The exchange was. Uneventful. As soon as they were out of Umbra let out a huge inward sigh of relief.

>>”That wasn’t fun…”<< she muttered over the comms, >>”Just passed a couple of sweeps on the way to the med bay…”<<


Mines

"Snaptrap will be happy, I guess. I'm not."

“When was the last time you ever saw the boss crack a smile? Happy? Pah! Though…he seemed to be joking…around with the Horrorcons earlier…” Skalor muttled, glancing to Tentakil.

“Something about Snapdragon taking you out on a date, and Snaptrap giving his blessing.”

Garrus-9--Mines

>>”What do you mean by that? Like they’ll put the injured into some trenches to be left to die or something, pft,”<< Umbra commed back. Pointblank scoffed internally. That was pretty much exactly what he'd meant. But he also realized that the other mech was probably just working out some circuit surges so he didn't press the point. If she really had any doubts about how Decepticons treated injured mechs or prisoners of war, he'd have a longer conversation with her in the future.

>>”That wasn’t fun…Just passed a couple of sweeps on the way to the med bay…”<<

>>"Huh...well, good job on not drawing their attention. I've heard some scuttle down here that Scourge got sent elsewhere, so his Sweeps are probably pretty directionless and enjoying some downtime from dealing with their sparkless leader."<<
___

Garrus-9 Central--Med Bay Exterior

"You look a lil' lost, heh," Stormwrecker grunted as he approached the femme from a separate corridor. He didn't recognize her. "Granted, I am too. I only seen this place from the other side of the bars. Haven't quite got used t'just walkin' around free on my own."

Wait a micro. He did recognize her. He'd seen her during rec breaks a time or two. The last time, she was hanging around those Monstercon fellas. Couldn't recall her designation though.

"Looks like yer gettin' adjusted to yer freedom too, heh."

Amphitheater

Bomb Burst stood stark still, visor still down, listening to the cries of the troops weighing in on Maximus' fate.

The sound was... irritating.

He didn't care what happened to Maximus. It may have whipped the others into a frenzy, but it mattered not to him.


So exposed and vulnerable right now... they should be moving.

---

Snarler snorted.

He felt the same as the Vampire and for oddly similar reasons. Another Autobot, didn't matter how he was killed as long as he was killed. He would rather be fighting right now.

He looked up to the Boss then back to the crowd again.

----

Nightbird considered briefly for a moment sending Bomb Burst of into an energon-lust just for fun. She knew how to push his buttons. Standing around shouting went against her very nature... Bomb Burst's nature.

Optics went to the Vampire, Snarler, Skullgrin, then Bludgeon.

Slag.

Bludgeon seemed to actually be interested in seeing Maximus' fate, even though it was clear the Vampire and the Pig didn't. .. and to confess, neither did she.

"They dwell so much on it's fate...." she whispered. "Why?"

---

Bomb Burst's head rose a bit, optics appearing to be locked on the scene and studying it. "I do not know, Birdie." He whispered back in confession.

---

Snarler snorted again. "Dey play wit it."

---

"That's insane." Bomb Burst said a little bit louder. "I mean I can see the thrill in it possibly escaping and having to chase it down, but why waste the time standing around when there is more prey to be had? Kill and move on."

---

Snarler sighed and nodded slightly.

---

"It's all rather dangerous anyway." Nightbird remarked. "Like you said, Vampire, kill and move on."