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Semper Tyrannis: Brig

Pyro shook his head briefly. "Fortress Maximus's command? Why would they be interested in a prison dedicated to Prisoners of War? More specifically, why would they care to even feign interest in Decepticon Prisoners." He painfully rested his massive damaged frame against the nearest bulkhead as he tried to pry some insight into the reasoning behind this reversal of eons of Decepticon philosophy. "As far as I am aware, Garrus-9 doesn't have any high profile prisoners, at least high profile Decepticon prisoners. And Megatron has a strict policy of terminating or letting rot any of those cons who fall into Autobot hands."

"However we fell into the hands of these twisted malcontents, we must devise a way of mitigating their advantage." Pyro paused again, this time adjusting his frame to remove the weight off of his battered leg. He had spent only a cursory period on Garrus-9 on assignment, he knew enough to know that it was a relatively unimportant world strategically. No real mineral wealth, energon sources nor was it within range of major shipping lanes. In essence it was what it was, a prison rock. But even with that information, Pyro was unsettled by the thought of battle befalling his compatriots where he could do nothing to aid in their struggle. Not even Optimus Prime would allow such an event to happen.

Before he could divert the vital energon, as low as it was already, to his arm actuators, perhaps rending the rest slab from its hinges and drive it through the solid titanium bulkhead. Perhaps causing enough of a power diversion of the ship itself to contain him and his rampage to give those Autobot defenders that one micron of an astro second to deliver the blow that would turn the tide. Before Pyro was able to give his spark so that others would have a chance to lead the potential counter offensive, or at least signal an energy flare that would warn Maximus of the pending attack, before he could do anything to affect the outcome of this perhaps predestined battle... the doors to the cell block opened.

A heavily armed platoon of Vehicons, the first two armed with stun batons and decidedly nasty scatterburst rifles, leading the stomping march. Both of them were sporting rather nasty looking dents to their head caps, each one with grooves numbering in fours as well as a large caved area on their chests and hips. Behind them another four arrive on the scene as the two heavily battered and armed Vehicon guards moved to the side of the cell block doors. The lead of the middle four sported the marks of a squadron leader, again dented in and gouged with the scraped remains of the broken baton that dangled from his hip ring. The vehicon stepped forward and placed his palm onto the cell force field locking mechanism.

The screen seperating the prisoners inside from the sore excuse of freedom an ill advised escape attempt would provide. It too moved to the side as the three guards behind him seperated themselves briefly to reveal a semi concious Technobot Commander. "Deposit this Autobot Trash with the others. Commander Deadlock demands our presence in the bounce chambers before the assault begins."

"Oh come on Twiggy." Scattershot spat a glob of lubricants from his damaged mouth plate onto the deck. "What is it with you cons anyways? Can't play it right so you get all itchy," his voice was staggered but a sense of mock labor was embedded into his speech.

The platoon leader drove the hilt of his broken stun baton down against the back of Scattershot's head and gave a nod to his troops. Stepping back out of the way, the three troopers unceremoniously lobbed the weakened Autobot into the cell and into a heap with whoever had been present. "Don't worry Autoscrap." The leader cursed before the forcefield could reactivate, "you will be in a more playful scene shortly."

A snap and a sizzle later the forcefield was reactivated and the vehicon team began to depart. Each one with knicks and dings spread across their armor plates, though the leader with a glowing and sparking hole in his armor just left of his right leg joint. The team disappeared.

For Scattershot, all the technobot could do was simply chuckle as he forced himself to lay on his back. "All this... All this mess for that?" His voice lacing with venom as his chuckle grew in intensity. "Not even a petty vengence motive. That would have been so simple. But this..."

Pyro pushed himself as close to the forcefield as he dared. "Commander Scattershot, what? What did you learn?"

Scattershot's almost unnerving laughter faltered briefly. "A great deal that my little guest did not care to know." This time his voice was starting to show the exhausted signs of his mental struggle with Scourge and the platoon of Decepticon Vehicon grunts who tried to take him back to his cell. His expression flexed briefly into one that told the story, 'If you think I look bad, you should see the other guys.'

"They are going after Maximus... but thats not all. There is a slag of a lot... more to these plans." By now his exhausted state was starting to get the better of him. He needed to allow his internal repair systems to recalibrate and bring him back to a relatively fully functional state. "At least it wasn't a total loss... Nosecone just got a maneuver named after him... ... ... And our enemy has just become a beloved friend."

Semper Tyrannis--Hangar

Iguanus latest taunt had not gone unnoticed. How could it? Two pairs of fiery red optics had been locked on him ever since the Terrorcon had arrived inside the hangar along with the other Terrorcons and the other mass of Decepticon warriors that were being assembled to commence this assault.

That little wave almost did it. Almost. Allllllmost. Sinnertwin's metallic claws were digging small trenches into the metallic floor underfoot, almost as a subconscious effort on the part of some limited, higher-functioning part of his largely animalistic brain module to keep himself and not incur the wrath of his monstrous commander.

One chance. One position unguarded. One wrong look. Mine. You will be mine. Oh yes.
___

The Pestilence--Bridge

Tentakil had barely paid the slightest bit of attention to Snaptrap's summary execution of a few more bugs. Slag, he could do that to every one they came across for all he cared. Whether he had the opportunity to kill them with kindness or have Snaptrap handle it in his much more brutal way--or even by throwing the whole swarm of them at their Autobot foes--killing them was just fine with Tentakil. The whole empire would be better off without things like that around.

"Don't get too comfortable, Skaly. We're here," Tentakil said, bringing an image of the Elba moon and its considerable amount of resources into view on the primary bridge monitor. The ghost shields were still giving out good readings so he had brought the ship to its assigned position. The bait ships of the 2nd fleet were doing their job. Now it was just a matter of seeing how the Autobots chose to respond. Then he'd plow this beehive right into Fort Max's aftplate.

Almost like clockwork, an Autobot vessel was soon on its way to intercept the scout vessels.

"Just one?" Tentakil asked, mostly rhetorically. "Is that all the better we get these days?"
___

Semper Tyrannis--Brig

Lightspeed nodded lightly, still aching, at Pyro's assessment. Decepticons rescuing prisoners did not fall into their standard modus operandi. And as Pyro had also pointed out, Lightspeed could not recall anyone of particular note who might be imprisoned within. That being true, there were certain areas of the prison where Lightspeed had never even deigned to look, such as the notorious Rig. As far as Lightspeed was concerned, whoever was imprisoned there had been effectively rendered a non-concern. His mental processing power was better focused on working on any number of other tasks at hand, usually aboard the Steelhaven--or the Farstar, before its untimely destruction.

"Maximus is obviously a trophy in himself. But I wonder if it's not so much prisoners they want, as it is technology. It's no big secret that Aequitas was constructed and stored within Garrus-9. True, it's been out of regular use for so long that it may as well be forgotten...but it's there," Lightspeed added, trying to give Pyro or any of the other Autobots as much information as possible. For whatever good it would do.

Lightspeed physically stiffened as a Vehicon entourage approached with their commander, looking notably worse for wear. Decepticon interrogations could hardly be said to be pain-free experiences. Fortunately Scattershot looked like he had given as good as he had received.

Lightspeed listened as Pyro and Scattershot interacted a little bit, trying to put some more pieces of the puzzle together. A pretty impressive puzzle it was turning out to be, too. They hadn't even come across all the pieces yet.

... And our enemy has just become a beloved friend."

"Huh?" Lightspeed asked, having understood the conversation right up to that point. Even the Nosecone bit, however unfortunate it sounded. "How so? You're starting to talk like Beachcomber."

Garrus-9--Command Center

The set of doors leading into the command center opened, followed by the larger set that was programmed to move out of the way any Fortress Maximus utilized the command center itself, which was pretty rare. He trusted his staff to do their jobs wherever they were assigned, and he'd rather be intermixing with civilian, commissioned and inmate population than sitting on some command chair surveying everything.

This, though---this was a situation that required him to be front and center until the potential threat had been dealt with.

Maximus didn't even wait for a situation report, instead heading directly to a comm station and patching one hand directly in. As soon as the interface was complete, he brought up a connection with the intercept frigate he had sent out.

>>"Onsite this is Max. What are these ships doing, are they giving you anything to work with?"<<"

>>"No, uh, negative. Sir. They're maintaining radio silence."<<

>>"Where's our backup?"<<

>>"Steelhaven, Mainstay and Magmaside all en route, commander."<<
___

Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

Cyclonus watched carefully, with keen interest, as the frigate had neared combat range with the Spirit of Wrath and the two corvettes that were serving their purpose.

That's it. Draw them in,

The other ships in the area were beginning to mobilize as well. The hornet's nest, such as it was, had clearly been agitated.

>>"Captain Upjaw aboard the Spirit of Wrath, commander. They've attempted multiple hails. We've maintained silence. How do we proceed?"<<

"Let the other ships close in, captain. When that initial frigate is in position, commence your assault."

>>"Aye, commander."<<
____

Garrus-9--Command Center

The longer Maximus watched this situation unfold, the less he liked it. There were a few possibly legitimate reasons for those ships to not be responding to their attempts to make contact, and there was also a possibility that there were innocent, civilian lives aboard any of those three ships. But there were innocent, civilian lives within this facility too, along with those of his staff and every Cybertronian who wore an Autobot badge and Fortress Maximus knew that he had to put them first. Death, for all his attempts to avoid and minimalize it, had found him even out here on the far reaches of civilized space.

Damn, Maximus thought, his free hand slamming despondently against the side of the console.

"Onsite.....these ships are in restricted space. They.......they should've known better."

The temptation to look away was great, but this was part of the job he had been sent here to do. His focus would remain as steady as he hoped he could remain on the inside.

"Fire at will."

>>"...a-aye, sir."<<
___

Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

"The frigate is in optimum position, Commander Cyclonus," Reflector said, the Spectro component turning to face the superior Decepticon directly. "Should we--?"

>>"Their weapon systems are powering up!"<< came a sudden transmission from one of the corvettes.

>>"....evasive maneu....!!!"<< from the other.

The main viewscreen exploded in brilliant displays of color as the Autobot frigate began firing on the Spirit of Wrath and its sister vessels. The three ships barely had time to begin unleashing a return volley before the first of the two corvettes exploded in a massive cloud of fire and metal.

The mouth apertures on all three of Reflector's component mechs opened just a little more widely.

Silence lingered on the bridge of the flagship for a few moments.

So, the Autobots had made the first truly aggressive move? Cyclonus' facial features arched slightly in a display of legitimate surprise. He would have never expected them to have the fortitude for such action. Not Maximus, anyway.

And so the battle was on.

Garrus-9 – South Wing - Cell Block G

Truly this Autobot was a seemingly limitless source of amusement. His spark seemed to be infused with a need to overreact with ridiculous gestures to every perceived slight thrown at him. Now he was bagging his head against the wall, not too hard really, but he was still doing it. If Airachnid had known that a fellow prisoner so closer to her could be a source of this much amusement she would have spoken to him long ago.

“My apologies. As I said I only had a passing familiarity with the Autobot code. I bow to your superior knowledge of the subject.” Her tone held just a hint of sarcasm, enough to sounds suspicious but not enough to accuse of insincerity. She wanted to keep him a bit off balance still.

Airachnid let out a sigh as Flame went on a rant about the Decepticons. This wasn’t as entertaining. She had heard far too many Autobots rail against the Decepticons, their beliefs and methods over the ages, whether it be here in the prison or in an interrogation chamber. It was all the same scrap, moral superiority. Etc. etc. She could probably recite everything he was going to say about the Decepticons from memory.

Her mood changed dramatically when he mentioned her own disloyalty. Her expression changed to a scowl and she finally stood up from her chair. She quietly walked to the cell door so she could better look at the Autobot prisoner. “And what, exactly, do you know about Decepticons. Hmm? What do you know about me Autobot? You yell about me not knowing your or your precious Autobots, I don’t think you have any room to mention my standing with the Decepticons.” She wasn’t fond of anyone in this prison knowing her less then ideal position with the Decepticons, particularly a loud mouth like Flame.

*

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing – Cell Block G

Scowl adjusted the pieces accordingly from his opponent’s last move. It seemed both of them were willing to play bold. He hadn’t expected that from such a new player. He sat back and considered his next move. Perhaps it was time for something more cautious; maybe lure her into making a mistake. He made the move on his board and then tapped it out to her. ‘Defender to G-9.’

(OOC: Sorry for the wait, Ember. Been a bit tied up.)

Garrus-9 – Southern Wing – Cell Block M

Well. That was a major disappointment. A huge letdown. A spectacular failure.

Spree staggering into Wildfly's cell and beginning to babble like the frightened little cyber-weasel that he was promised a great many things. Having just witnessed the guard act in that fashion served as a prelude to what would have been a wonderful show, where Wildfly would have ripped him to pieces, right before Whirl's ginormous optic.

Would have. Two key words that didn't quite sound as good when Spree still lived, particularly with the grisly execution Wildfly had intended to perform on him.

Would have, could have, should have. But didn't. All thanks to some weak voice over the PA system. And Whirl dragging the worthless heap of scrap out of the cell.

He deserved a certain amount of credit, too, Shockwave's long-lost brother, even though he had forced Spree into Wildfly's domain in the first place.

The Monstercon hardly shifted from his “debilitated” position on the edge of his cot as Whirl spoke to Spree after having—if he had guessed correctly—hurled the sissy across the hall. A severe clang suggested the rust bucket crashed against either a door or a wall. Wildfly could not prevent a grin from creeping onto his face-plate.

Their ensuing discussion—if it could be called as such, since all Whirl did was rebuke the cyber-weasel—escaped the reach of his audio modules, though he recognised the creepy peeper's tone and the hostility that accompanied it. Again, Wildfly could not erase the grin on his face-plate.

Rapid footfalls informed him of Spree's departure. A shame, as his revenge would have to wait. Nothing new there.

Whirl, however, approached Wildfly's cell and tapped on the viewing panel. One, two, three, four, five, six times. Rather annoying, that was. But at least he said something intriguing.

If it proved true. Which it probably didn't.

Feigning the condition of an emotionally destroyed prisoner, Wildfly looked at Whirl and nodded. Might as well keep this charade up, because there remained one thing he needed. An important thing.

“Before you go...” This languid state was a cinch to pull off. “What're my chances of grabbing another energon ration?”

——————

The Pestilence – Bridge

So Tentakil knew his way around a station. Good for him. So he operated it as if he'd been its owner since its instillation on the bridge. Awesome. Fantastic. Marvellous.

Why didn't Nautilator know what he was doing?

Buttons, levers, flashing lights, miniature screens. Press this, pull that, watch here, make a report there. Too much. Too much for Nautilator to take in.

He wasn't cut out for this sort of work. He'd rather have left it to somebody else, but with Snaptrap obliterating a bunch of diaclones with the barest of efforts a moment ago, for no apparent reason that Nautilator saw, walking away from the station wouldn't end happily for the Seacon.

He released an exasperated sigh. Back to pretending, then. And his olfactory sensors being harassed by Skalor's vile odour. Joy.

Compensation did exist, though. It appeared they had reached their destination.

“Finally,” Nautilator said, almost throwing his arms in the air to celebrate.

Yes. Finally. Now he could focus on Garrus-9 and the impending assault instead of staring at this station like a moron and being a victim of Skalor's unholy stench.

((OOC: One of many?))

Garrus - 9, The Grease Pit

A sudden angry outburst wafted through the tavern causing patrons to jerk their heads around in order to find the source at the back of the tavern. With a snort Drudge slammed his empty glass down on the table before pointing a chunky digit in his compatriot’s direction. “I swear in the name of Primus, that was not me!” The other occupant at the table scoffed before chuckling humorlessly. “Yeah, like I’d believe you.” Drudge grunted as he signaled one of the server droids. “Believe what you want. I wasn’t the one who did it.”

Downfall sent a heated glare at his friend as he lifted his glass and chugged the remaining contents of his drink. The senior guard leaned back in his chair and slowly set the empty glass on the table, all the while eyeing his friend. “Somethin’ tells me, Drudge, that you do know who did it. Am I right?” Drudge shifted uncomfortably in his seat and quickly averted his optics. “I s’pose.” He shrugged.

With an annoyed sigh Downfall leaned down trying to catch the other mech’s attention. “You gonna tell me or am I gonna have to beat it out of ya?”Drudge slowly looked up, coming optic to optic with the larger ‘Bot. “I think you know what I prefer.” Downfall intoned. The server drone arrived and Downfall sat back in his seat giving Drudge some much welcome breathing space. The drone set two glasses of high grade down on the table and waited patiently until Drudge handed over the money for the drinks. The little bot beeped thanks and set off to see to the other patrons.

“Now, where were we? Ah yes…you were just gonna spill your guts before I spill them for ya.” Downfall growled out. Drudge’s jaw opened and closed several times before he was able to form coherent words. “Well, you ain’t gonna like it ‘cause you won’t be able to do nothin’ about it, see. The war…” The guard’s words were cut short when the Warden’s voice resonated throughout the tavern. The clientele, a majority of who was the staff of the penitentiary, suddenly stopped their discussions and lighthearted banter to hear what was being said.

Once the announcement was concluded Downfall sent Drudge a hateful glare. “Looks like we’ll have to finish this little discussion later. Come on.” Both mechs stood from their chairs and downed their drinks before heading out to their designated posts.

Garrus - 9, Minimum Security

With his business complete for the day Brace was escorted back to his cell by his preferred guard. Of course the real reason he liked this guard was because he was obedient when paid well. And Aileron was a mech who, if paid handsomely, would go above and beyond his call of duty. Brace smiled slightly as the large flier closed the door to his cell. “Thank you, Aileron.” The expression of gratitude held no truth. In fact Brace hated the mech on a personal level, but he did his job well. What more could he ask for? A large oaf who could act as a bodyguard…and who just so happened to be a senior guard. His luck was priceless.

The door locked once the catches clicked in place. Aileron stepped back and grunted at Brace’s thanks. “Yeah, whatever.” He began to walk away from his employer when he stopped in his tracks and turned around. He made his way back to the door and inclined his head. Brace rolled his head and let out an annoyed sigh as he stood from his chair and walked to the door. “What is it now?” Aileron took a careful glance over his shoulder to make sure he was not in audio range of any of the other staff. When he was sure it was safe to speak he looked back to the bulky mech. “I had to close out my account. Someone was snooping for info.” The guard slipped a small datastick into Brace’s hand. “You can transfer the funds into that account.” The arms dealer slipped the stick into a sub-space pocket and look at the other mech. “Interesting. Any ideas as to who the interloper might be?” Aileron shook his head in the negative. “No. But I aim to find out.” “Was there any information that involved me or my…work?” Brace questioned.

There was a period of silence that hung between the two before Aileron finally responded. “Not sure if that info was hacked into. Like I said, I’m gonna find out who it was and take care of it.” The guard was becoming agitated, and Brace knew that an agitated Aileron was a potential liability, and he needed the guard. Solution: dissolve the situation with the utmost care. “Alright. You do some digging and I’ll get those funds transferred.” Brace lowered his vocalizer, “And if you find anything…anything at all…you let me know right away. Capiche?”

Aileron pulled back slightly and gave his employer an odd look. “sigh Do you understand?” The guard nodded and stepped away from the door. He had just turned to leave when the voice of the Warden sounded though the facility’s PA system. “Code Beta, eh? You best get going then. Fill me in when the opportunity present itself.” Brace said. A grunt and a mumbled ‘okay’ was all that was offered before Aileron finally left.

“Simple-minded buffoon.” The arms dealer muttered while settling back into his cushy chair.

((OOC: More to come...))

Garrus-9 – Southern Wing – Cell Block G

A small satisfied smile worked its way onto Flame’s visage at the apology the Decepticon femme seemed to offer. Of course he knew that, coming from a Decepticon, the offer was anything but sincere, but at this point he’d take anything. He wasn’t about to get so much as a sniff from the Autobots he considered brothers so if a ‘Con threw an amends his way…grab it he would.

Airachnid’s mood changed, however, at the scientist’s mention that she was not in the good graces with her own kind. Well now. This is very interesting…very interesting indeed. The smile that had been on his face grew ever wider as he watched her rise from her chair and walk to the cell door. The question she posed made the flamboyant scientist pause and consider his response in order to receive the most entertaining reaction. “I know that had your brethren thought you were worth their time they would have attempted to, either rescue you or arrange for a prisoner exchange.” Flame crossed his arms over his chest and raised his head high, a haughty expression crossing his features. “Clearly they thought you were not worth their time or effort.”

He cast the femme a sidelong glance before he turned on his heel and stalked back to his berth. He took a seat and leaned down, his forearm resting on his knees. “I think, my dear, what you should do is ponder whether or not they are worth your time.”

Garrus-9 – Southern Wing – Cell Block M

Whirl’s lone optic caught the pitiful sight that was Wildfly. What a show this one put on. He truly deserved some sort of an award. Internally the former Wrecker laughed. Did this ‘Con honestly believe he’d fall for such a sorry show? But there really was no reason not to play along.

For now at least.

And then Wildfly stood, albeit with sorry listless movements. Oh, callooh! Callay! There’s more fun to be had with this one!

The blue copter-bot kept silent while he eyed the Monstercon. After several agonizing minutes, well agonizing for the ‘Con hopefully, Whirl hummed. He pulled away from the cell’s door, one clawed hand placed against his hip while the other rapped lightly on the frame.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Hmmmm…”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Hmmmm. Quite a conundrum you’ve put me in my friend.” He let out a heavy, overly exaggerated sigh. Another minute of complete silence and another contemplative hum.
“You see…if I just waltz up and pour another refreshing drink of that energon someone might start asking questions…and since I already received my ration for the day…” Whirl drew down the claw he had on the door’s frame resulting in a high-pitched screech that rang through the area. The noise didn’t deter him from performing the same action several more times.

“Well now…this is certainly quite a problem. I can’t very well leave you without anything to energize with, buuuuut I sure can’t go around “stealing” energon just to give out.” He drew that same claw down the metal frame one more time; that screech echoing through the block as his bright amber optic came into view in the window. “Maybe I can convince one of the other guards to “donate” a portion of his ration, but I don’t think any of them’ll agree to it…well, not unless they get something in return.”

Whirl’s head cocked to one side as he took in Wildfly’s form. “You have anything I can offer them?”

Brig: Infirmary - Laboratory

Soul Siren shook her head at Scourge's tactics. It was clear that he was a hunter and not an information gatherer. Still, eventually the information had been acquired and that was the important thing. Scourge had likely put that information in undue risk but that was not the kind of statement she could afford to make and still remain functional so she kept it to herself. When Scourge awoke she moved towards him and disconnected him from the machine. At that moment the call from Cyclonus came.

"Understood Sir. I will be there shortly."

That she could reply that to him calmly and without betraying and hint of her true emotions to Scourge was a testament to her professionalism. Truth was that the order made her want to cry. She was so tired right now she could not put it into words. Still she could not refuse a command. Her needed rest would have to wait. She left Scattershot to the others and made her way to the Bridge.

Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

Soul Siren stepped in feeling rather embarrassed at her dirty state. One should always strive to look professional when on the Bridge but she was still covered in the stains left by assorted Autobot liquids from her many interrogations. There had been no time to get clean either. She moved towards Cyclonus.

"Soul Siren reporting, sir."

Semper Tyrannis -- Bridge

So was the always tactful and valorous Fortress Maximus finally loosing it? Reacting this way to a seemingly minor offense? Of course, the Decepticons had antagonized the Autobots to respond like they had through not even making an attempt to reply back to the Autobot's transmissions. Any spacefaring species with any common sense would have at least tried to communicate when an approaching fleet of spaceships were clearly sending transmissions on a broad range of frequencies.

And yet, it wasn't the surprising aggressiveness of Fortress Maximus which bothered Scorponok - it was the fact that his Decepticons had failed to be the ones to strike first.

It took the gargantuan warlord a great deal of effort to keep sitting on his command throne as if nothing he hadn't planned for had happened instead of jumping up and accuse the captain of Spirit of Wrath and its escorts from incompetence. No this was not to the time to give in to his darker impulses. Stay calm and collected. One corvette was an acceptable loss and likely not the only one they would suffer.

Nevertheless, it was time to remind captain of the Spirit of Wrath of the stakes. "Stand your ground Upjaw or I will destroy you myself! Return fire! Focus on that frigate! And this time make sure you begin your retreat before that enemy battlegroup reaches firing distance!"

And return fire the Spirit of Wrath and its remaining escort corvette did. The massive barrage of firepower the Decepticon frigate and its escort were able to focus on its Autobot counterpart which had been forced to divide its attention on three, now two ships - tore through the Autobot frigate's shields, turning the frigate's front section into a mere husk of its former glory. And behind the frigate, a battlegroup of Autobot ships steadily approached their position.

Yes, draw them in. Draw them in for the biggest surprise of your miserable lives...



>>"We have destroyed an enemy corvette. Fire-control is refocusing fire - <<" The transmission from the intercepting Autobot frigate the Forerunner was obscured by resonance of explosions from deeper inside the ship and the unmistakable sound of alarm klaxons setting of before the ship's captain was able to resume his reporting to Fortress Maximus.

>>"Commander! The enemy is returning fire! Several hull breaches thorough front section of the ship, decks 1, 2 and 3. We are getting hammered here, these are Decepticon ships, no question. The ship can't take this much longer. If we do not survive... It was an honor to serve."<< Forerunner's captain finished his transmission to Fortress Maximus, the comm-line however, was still left open. >>"Everyone hold your stations! All power to frontal shields! We can and we will hold until Maximus' reinforcements drive these Decepticons scum off the system!"<<

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing--Block B

Vroom had been lying back in his cell, letting his mind wonder and think about the past. Suddenly he opened his optics. There was something wrong. He could not begin to say what it was but his instincts as a saboteur were crying out to him. He was always careful with his calculations and preparations but a saboteur always needed keen instincts to survive all the different pitfalls one would face. He had long ago learned to trust both the math and his instincts.

"What are you up to Max..." He said to himself in a low volume.

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing--Block B

"What are you up to Max..." Stormwrecker heard a voice say from one of the nearby cells. He had been quietly counting away the orns. Vorns. Days. Years. Didn't matter. One blended with the other all too easily around here.

But he could hear something going on. Muffled sounds, kind of like explosions. Were they doing demolitions down in the mines? Or building some new section of the prison? One of many things that sucked about being in a cell with no window--Stormwrecker had no means of satisfying his curiosity.

"Eh, prob'ly just buildin' somethin', or tearin' somethin' else down."
___

Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

Cyclonus turned to acknowledge Soul Siren's arrival to the bridge. With her here, Cyclonus felt more prepared to depart the bridge and to take his place at the head of what would soon be one of the direct assault forces taking the battle directly to Fortress Maximus and his quaint little penal colony.

"Ensure that Sparkstalker has those codes ready. High Commander Scorponok will direct you from here. The next phase of this operation will necessitate that I be...elsewhere," Cyclonus said, turning to face the main viewscreen once more as Scorponok gave his orders to captain Upjaw aboard the Spirit of Wrath and the surviving corvette, returning fire as ordered.

The familiar aura of a worthy opponent. Cyclonus had not felt it in some time. He knew that he would feel that satisfaction now, just as he had with Vulkan on Nebulos and with select Autobots beforehand.

Cyclonus' body stiffened as he at last turned and prepared to depart the bridge altogether, nodding in Scorponok's direction, as it was by his leave that Cyclonus would directly take part in the battle at all, and then at Soul Siren.

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing--Block B

Vroom closed his optics and focused on his audio systems. He frowned and jumped to his feet.

"Something is being torn down but not planned. The explosions are too random. There is a certain degree of planning behind them but not what one would expect from demolitions." Vroom knew explosions. He could tell the type of materials used, the size, and the planning surrounding them just by their sounds.

"Almost as if... an attack."

Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

Soul Siren looked at Cyclonus for a brief moment. Working from the bridge was not something she got to often do so she was thrilled at the opportunity. It gave her a second wind and she hope that it would be enough for what needed to be done.

"Of course sir." She said with a salute. "I look forward to hearing of your success when you return."

Soul Siren had no doubts that Cyclonus would succeed no matter what task he had. He was too professional to fail. She turned towards Scorponok to await any further instructions he might have for her. All of the sudden the feeling of embarrassment at her unclean state returned to her.

Semper Tyrannis - En-route to Bridge

Banzai-tron walked steadily from his quarters to the bridge. He held a data-pad in his hand, often flashing as more and more reports came in from other intelligence agents. He ignored these, for he had a more pressing matter to attend to, Scourge's Psychic-Patch with the captive Autobot.

The corridors were long and dark. The only light he could see were the flickering of data panels and tiny light fixtures fixed around the entirety of the ships corridors. He stopped for a moment at one of the starboard-side windows and gazed off into the blackness of space. From this angle, he couldn't see the nearby planet or enemy corvettes, but he could spot one of the other vessels in Scorponok's fleet.

He then turned away from the window and continued his advance towards the bridge, passing a very determined looking Cyclonus. Banzai-tron raised his hand to ask him of Scourge's whereabouts aboard the ship, but he missed his window as Cyclonus passed through a set of blast doors. Banzai-tron turned and continued his trek towards the bridge.

Upon reaching the bridge, Banzai-tron stood momentarily outside of the large blast doors, readying his data-pad for his latest entry. The blast doors slid open with a slight hiss, and soon Banzai-tron was blinded by the intense light the bridge emitted.

Semper Tyrannis - Bridge

Banzai-tron took a couple of steps in, standing partially in the doorway. He heard commands being shouting to some of the pilots and weapon masters of the vessel. Lights were bursting from the the large viewing window, as corvettes and frigates were exploding from the barrage of the fleet.

He walked up next to Scorponok's throne of a commander's chair.

"Commander Scorponok." He stated with a slight bow, "I am in need of Scourge's findings from his Psychic-Patch with the Autobot. You know, for record keeping." He then raised his data-pad oh so slightly just to help his point. "May I borrow the Sweep-Commander for a few cycles or so?"

Garrus-9 - Rung’s Office

“We’re through, right? Because I think we’re done.” Armor Aid said as he rose from the chair. He stared sternly at the psychoanalyst for several minutes before Rung responded. “Well, if that’s what you want, Armor Aid, I will not hold you here any longer. But…” It was Rung’s turn to stand. He gracefully stepped to the distraught doctor and offered a gentle smile. “I want you to remember that if at any time you want to talk, or you just want company, comm me. Alright?”

Armor Aid took a few hesitant steps away from the smaller orange bot and considered Rung’s offer. Of course there was no way he’d ever take the doctor up on it, but in order to be excused sooner rather than later he’d relent. “Yeah, sure. I get the urge you’ll be the first to know. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” The doctor turned on his heel, transformed and took off out the door and through the corridors leaving a surprised Rung in his wake.

Rung shook his head sadly. “How unfortunate.” The analyst breathed. He stared at the door a moment before he returned to his desk and took a seat. He steepled his fingers in front of him and pondered just what he was about to do. Finally, when he could put it off no longer, Rung turned to his desk terminal and set to composing a detailed report and proposal concerning their current CMO.

Recommendations for Patient #AA-118400D…I have spent time speaking with and evaluating the patient and I have determined that, for the betterment of the patient’s mental state, he be transferred from this facility as soon as possible. A communication will be transmitted to the proper authorities requesting his removal and ultimate re-assignment.

With a heavy sigh Rung added his signature and sent the message on to the warden. Any luck and Max would sign off on it as quickly as possible. Another sigh and the lithe orange mech set his attention on a small stack of files set on the end of his desk.

Rung hadn’t made it halfway through the first file when the warden’s “Code Beta” came over the penitentiary’s PA system. Rung’s jaw dropped open slightly before he caught himself and clamped it closed.

The order was a surprise but it certainly wouldn’t hinder the day to day goings on. However, there hadn’t been such a code in possibly…forever…so reassuring the newer staff members that everything was fine was probably a good idea. So contacting Streamlight, who didn’t seem very willing to come see him, was probably a good place to start. >>”Streamlight. This is Rung. I know you’ve heard the warden’s announcement, but I want to remind you that our session will commence as scheduled.”<<

Garrus-9 - Barracks

Not long after leaving Cell Block C Streamlight entered the barracks and trotted to his bunk. The young guard rummaged quickly through his supplies in search of a few needed items. Once he was satisfied that his collection was complete, Streamlight headed to the dispenser that serviced this particular barracks and filled one of the available glasses with energon.

Cup in hand the guard leaned up against the counter and took a long, slow drink of the fuel. It was during his second swig that the announcement from the warden came over the PA system. And with the cup to his lips Streamlight’s optics widened. He lowered his hand to reveal a relieved grin. “Yes. Guess I won’t be seeing Rung today.” He pumped his hand in triumph, but stopped when the sound of the psychiatrist’s voice echoed through his comm link.

His arm lowered, his shoulders slumped and the smile vanished. Looks like he’d be heading up several levels anyway. “Oh man. Come on!” Streamlight placed the empty container down on the counter and opened up a link with the little orange doctor. >>“Hey, Rung. I’m heading up now. I’ll see you in a little bit.”<<

A heavy sigh escaped his vocalizer when he received the quick response. Streamlight took a glance around to make sure he had what he needed and left the barracks. If he was going to get this over with he might as well get moving.

Garrus-9 - Rung’s Office

A light rapping on the door drew the attention of the doctor from his work. A smile worked onto his face as he stood from his chair and stepped from behind the desk. “Please, come in Streamlight.” Rung stopped in front of his workspace, his hands folded lightly in front of him.

The door hissed open and the form of the slim young flier entered and halted just within the threshold. The doors closed behind him as he looked ahead at the awaiting psychiatrist. “Please, take a seat.”

The guard hesitated for a brief moment but finally took that first step into the office and toward the couch situated at the opposite end of the room. Rung watched and waited until Streamlight was well inside and headed to the lounge when he took his seat.

“Um, I never did anything like this before, you know? So, um…I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do.” Streamlight confessed as he took a seat. He was greeted with a warm friendly smile. It seemed to help as the flier relaxed, but only marginally. “That’s alright, Streamlight. It’s okay to feel a bit apprehensive, but I assure you everything will be fine.” Rung offered a slight nod gesturing to the couch Streamlight was sitting on. The guard looked to either side of himself before lifting his legs and lying down.

A moment of silence passed between the doctor and his new patient before the sound of a data-slate turning on was heard causing Streamlight to lift his head in confusion. “What’re you doing? I thought this was confidential?” His voice was laced with concern.

Rung placed a slim hand on the mech’s shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. “Everything that’s said here IS confidential, but I need to keep records for myself.” He lifted his hand and wriggled his right thumb at his patient. “I will also be recording all of our sessions.” Streamlight lifted himself up on his elbows and looked at Rung, a concerned look plastered on his young face. “SessionS? You mean there’ll be more than one?” Rung offered Streamlight a feeble smile.

Semper Tyrannis -- Bridge

So, at least Upjaw was reacting well enough towards some old fashioned Decepticon command tactics. Good. Unfortunately enough, the Autobot battlegroup was closing in fast. The Spirit of Wrath would have to leave the finishing strike against this Autobot vessel for the rest of the fleet. It was time Cyclonus and Scourge moved in position for their next move. A move that had to be made for the assault against the prison facility to proceed without them losing more ships.

"Cyclonus." Scorponok spoke out as his most capable lieutenant began to move towards the exit. "Tell Sparkstalker to begin the cyber warfare attack once your team is ready to proceed. It is time we finished this."

With Cyclonus gone, Scorponok was left relatively alone in the bridge save for Soul Siren and the Decepticons manning their stations. It was a fitting moment to congratulate the lithe interrogator on her efforts. Despite of her belief, Soul Siren had nothing to be ashamed of when it came to her appearance. She had done her work admirably and the results were what mattered with Scorponok.

"You have done well Soul Siren." Scorponok began, the fatigue the interrogator had gone through was all too visible to him. Yet, Scorponok could not offer her the relief she desperately craved for. "However, there is no time for a full rest cycle now. Refuel quickly on energon and resume your duties alongside Sparkstalker and Wingspan. Your skills will be a valuable addition to theirs."

Having finished with Soul Siren, Scorponok turned to address Banzai-Tron, whose arrival had not gone unnoticed by the gargantuan warlord. The director of the Decepticon Secret Service would have his information. Scourge though, could not be bothered with it. It was yet another service Soul Siren would have to do for the Empire.

"I know what you want them for Banzai-Tron." Scorponok said, looking down at the far smaller Decepticon standing before him. "Scourge and his considerable skills however, are needed elsewhere."

"Soul Siren will provide you the information once she has refueled."

Scorponok's gaze moved from the Intelligence officer towards a holographic map of the star system. The Autobot battlegroup would soon reach firing distance. It was time for their bait to turn tail.

>>"Upjaw. Disengage and retreat."<<

Semper Tyrannis - Bridge

"This wasn't the answer I was hoping for," Banzai-ton thought to himself. But what could he do? Usually he makes quick work of any Decepticon who disobeys one of his commands, but this was Scorponok. He had far more followers who would die honorably for his cause, and this was HIS ship. Banzai-tron wouldn't get far staging such a mutiny. After all, he isn't Starscream.

"Understood," The intelligence Officer responded to a inattentive Scorponok, "Contact me if my services are needed elsewhere." He took a quick bow then turned to the bridge's doorway. He holstered his data-pad to his thigh as he began to walked through the large blast doors.

Semper Tyrannis - Main Corridor

Banzai-tron walked steadily as the doors hissed shut.

"I grow weary of this setbacks,"He thought again to himself,"If I am not doing my job collecting information for Soundwave, then I must see SOME sort of action. And this ship has been quite too boring for my taste."

The intelligence officer continued walking his course towards his chambers. If he isn't needed to gather his data, then there was no need to waste precious energon.

Semper Tyrannis -- Bridge

"Thank you Commander Scorponok. It is my honor to provide any service I can to our cause." She said with gratitude. However, Soul Siren felt more embarrassed and privately chided herself for allowing Scorponok to see how tired she was. She wanted to protest and insist that she could continue to do her duties without the rest but she knew that the Bridge of a Decepticon ship was no place to challenge an order from a superior.

"Yes, of course sir. I shall return as soon as possible." Time was obviously of the essence so she moved from the Bridge to the nearest recharging station. If anyone needed her they could still get her via her communicator. She made a note to herself to clean herself up a little while she recharged.

Semper Tyrannis--Brig

Scattershot's voice was lowering as his internal repair systems diverted power from various systems to localized repair protocols. His optics faded abit but lost none of their intensity as he turned his head to face Lightspeed and the other visible Technobot members. A chance chuckle escaped his vocalizer as he then lay back against the annoyingly cool metal deck of the brig floor.

"Believe me Lightspeed. You are not the only one confused by what the Commander has revealed." Pyro's voice registered as a distant memory more than an individual locked in a cell only a few meters away. Still Scattershot's audio receptors were able to catch a hint of worry within the young warrior's voice.

The Technobot Commander settled down, his motion circuits drained of their power as more and more energy was needed to restore vital operations. I think I will keep that bit a secret a while longer... but tactical information, we need to brainstorm purpose and countermeasures as soon as we are able. "Thats not important right now Speeder," he struggled to croak out before his optics gave the equivilent of a blink. "What is important is what the Decepticons are after. Fortress Maximus is only oil on the energon cake. They've found something... Not exactly sure what. But some sort of abnormality in designs."

Scattershot's voice faded briefly before he turned to face Nosecone and Strafe. "Not sure what that flaw is, but... the cons think they've found some advantage to it."

Pyro's optics immediately darted to Pointblank, Nightbeat and Rad before he returned his attention to the Technobots. "A design flaw? How can the Decepticons turn a design flaw into an advantage?" It was an open ended question for the engineers and scientists of the prison block to figure out. More importantly it was something of an ethical question, was it right to meddle in the designs of Primus anyways?

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing--Block B

Stormwrecker outwardly scoffed at Vroom's assessment of the noises. An attack? He could only wish. If someone was actually attacking this place that would mean, well, it would mean someone had lost their minds. This place was out in the middle of nowhere with a small fleet guarding its prisoners, to say nothing of the prison facility itself. Breakouts just didn't happen. Where would one break out to?

Explosions from inside, from a ruptured piece of equipment. Too many people running at one time. A massive block transfer. Lots of things could be going on.

"Yeh, alright, sure it is, Vrooms. Maybe Megatron finally decided those of us wearin' the badge've been stuck out here too long and have come t'save us. Heh. Heheh. Ah....if only."
___

Icepick chuckled at Umbra's latest response. She really was rather pleasant to converse with. How fortunate that she found her way here. Well, not so fortunate for her, perhaps, but fortunate for the rest of the prisoners who enjoyed engaging in an intelligible conversation.

Movement outside his cell caught Icepick's attention, so much so that he actually got up from his slab and walked over to the edge of cell, peering upward, downward and across. On all the levels, it seemed, guards were moving to a centralized location.

How odd...

"Something's going on," Icepick said. "Whatever this is, it is not a drill."

Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

>>"Aye, commander. You heard 'im! Get this rattletrap back!"<< Upjaw's voice barked out over the comm systems.

"It will be done," Cyclonus had said with a brief incline of his head in the High Commander's direction before having exited the bridge altogether. His path crossed with Banzai-tron's ever so briefly but neither of the formidable Decepticons said a word to each other. Not out of animosity, but rather out of a simple understanding by each that the other had his own work to do. Cyclonus had no doubt that the head of the Decepticon Secret Service would find several of his more formidable skills put to good use during the course of this operation. Cyclonus' thoughts on that fact were fleeting at best, as he had his own work tasks laid before him.

His trek to the hangar bay was brief and efficient, allowing for no distractions inbetween. Those Decepticons aboard the flagship who had onboard duty assignments gave the intimidating Decepticon a wide berth as he passed. And when he entered the hangar, his presence captured the attention of many almost instantly.

>>"Reflector--I want full streaming data regarding ships' positioning."<<

>>"Yes, Cyclonus."<<
___

Reflector began feeding navigational data regarding the incoming Autobot response vessels as well as the Decepticon vessels' tactical retreat directly to Cyclonus. On the viewscreen in front of them, the Autobot battle group was clearly gaining on the second corvette.

>>"Sparkstalker--commence your assault,"<< Cyclonus' voice oozed with eerie calm from the comm stations. The Spectro component turned to confirm that the other Decepticon had received the message. The Cryptologist had eagerly set to work on his console, a clear indication that he had.
___

Semper Tyrannis--Hangar

Arriving only mere astroseconds after Cyclonus had, Scourge was greeted with the barest of nods from his long-time Cybertronian confidante and seamlessly took his place at the head of his armada of Huntsmen.

"Aerial units, prepare to deploy," Cyclonus said, as the mechanized sounds of weapons being checked and gear placements being refined could be heard softly but steadily throughout the vast containment berth within the massive Decepticon flagship.

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing--Block B

Vroom continued to listen closely to the noises trying to paint a picture in his mind of what was happening.

"If its was an accident you would hear more footsteps heading away from the explosions as bots leave the area to let the repair crew handle it. It's not an accident and if its not an accident then there is one other option."

Vroom said as he thought about the matter for a moment then went to look for some of his things.

"Your awfully cheerful Stormwrecker." Vroom said with a grin on his face. "Tell me, assuming that's really ol' bullethead out there, would he give Decepticons who got themselves captured a second thought if they were in between him and the Autobots he wanted to scrap?"

Semper Tyrannis - Recharge Station

By the time Soul Siren reached the recharging station the anger she felt at her tiredness had faded and, with that, so did the extra fuel that kept her going. By the time she made it to the chamber she would be using she was stumbling. It was amazing how much more tired you felt when there was no work to keep her going. She stepped inside and activated the system to begin the recharging.

As the process began she sighed and allowed her mind to wonder. She set internal timers in her own systems for the length that the process would take and if anyone had would contact her so that she would be alerted when needed.

This would no be much of a rest, but it would have to do.

Semper Tyrannis – Recharging station

Banzai-tron looked up from his data-pad as the doors to the recharging station opened up. He saw Soul Siren stumble in and quickly hop into one of the recharging chambers. She didn’t seem to notice Banzai-tron’s presence in the room, who was refueling himself as well. She seemed frustrated about something, but Banzai-tron couldn’t put his finger on it.

He returned his focus to his data pad, he was accessing the ship’s files to try and locate some sort of debriefing that was give to Scourge, just to see what his “particular set of skills” was going to be used for. The intelligence officer continued to scroll through the ship’s log until he noticed something about an attack plan to the planet’s surface.

“So this is where Cyclonus was heading off to in such a rush.” He said aloud to himself. He read on a bit and found an order for all available warriors to head towards the hangar bay for the attack. “Excellent,” Banzai-tron said rather shrewdly, “I can finally get out and stretch my servos a bit. This ship has grown to be quite boring for my tastes.”

He then exited the recharging chamber feeling completely refreshed. The now battle-ready Banzai-tron exited the Recharging Station, leaving a slumbering Soul Siren by herself.

Semper Tyrannis – Hangar bay

The heavy doors opened in a loud hiss. Banzai-tron stepped into the hangar feeling proud, and anxious to fight. He walked along on one of the many catwalks, observing the warriors prepping themselves for battle. He heard the clicking of weapons being loaded, and the whirls of the ships being charged up. He spotted Cyclonus who was overseeing the troop’s preparation. Leaping from the rafter, the Intelligence officer glided down slowly, using the rockets in his feet to gently descend to the floor of the Hangar. He then walked over to the arm-crossed Cyclonus.

“Readying the troops I see, eh Cyclonus?” Banzai-tron asked the stern-looking Commander. “I hope you and the Sweep-Commander wouldn’t mind if I tagged along during this attack. Got to keep the DSS informed of everything, you know.” He then waved his data pad again, hoping this would help persuade his point like he did on the bridge. Banzai-tron could tell by Cyclonus’ expression that his Crystalocution skills would be beneficial to the fight, which was perfectly fine to Banzai-tron, who was dying to see some sort of action.

Garrus-9--Command Center

Maximus wished that he could be comforted on some level by the fact the the ships had returned fire. Take it as a confirmation that these were, in fact, Decepticon ships. He couldn't though. Not fully. Far in the back of his mind there was still a tinge of doubt. The Autobots had acted first, just as he had commanded. What vessel, Decepticon or not, would not return fire in such circumstances? But it was a doubt that he would have to suppress and deal with later, especially with the number of lives that were on the line. The invasive ships had already warranted this level of response by traveling this close to a secured facility. Their manner of response only affirmed what Max's follow-up actions would be.

"I read you, captain. Maintain pursuit. Incapacitate if the option is available. If not--destroy."

>>"Yes, sir. Commander, sir,"<< the response came back. Dutiful and efficient, though Maximus would have never doubted it to be otherwise.

The warden's orders were cold and calculated, but the ships had given him no choice at this point. Lethal force was most definitely authorized, at least he believed so. This whole event would surely come under review by Magnus, Prowl and others within Autobot Command at a later date. Maximus would stand ready then just as he did now.

"....commander, sir. I'm...um, our systems are getting strange readings. They--"

"What is it?" Maximus said, walking over to look down at the same console that the internal operations officer was watching. On the screen in front of him, he could see the ships via the long-range scanners as clear as the mech next to him, but all the other relevant data regarding the ships--their power levels, damage sustained, internal resources--were being scrambled. "What the hell?"

"We, um, we're being hacked, sir."

>>"..........iring. Can't.............engaging forward............"<<

Maximus looked up at the viewscreens. There was no way this was random. Not now.

"Call those ships back," Maximus began. The officer looked at him in such a way that the warden already knew what was coming.

"Find a way! We have to regroup," he added, already heading towards the door. If this was going to be some sort of full-fledged attack, he would not be watching it go down from some command center. "And Code Alpha the whole facility. NOW!"

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing--Block B

Stormwrecker stiffened a little bit in his metallic prison, a gesture that only his cellmate would have been able to recognize. Fortunate he was dozing in a state of near semi-stasis and was largely oblivious to anything going on around him. Which was impressive, given the steady rumbling racket that was going on.

"Mighty Megatron would free us if he came, no question. But I ain't some idealist. It wouldn't be for our sakes. It'd only to be throw those of us still battleworthy back into the grinder again. I'd have no problems provin' that I'm one of 'em. We wouldn't be inbetween him and you. We'd be behind him as he lead the charge to scrap them. Er, you. Whatever."
___

Semper Tyrannis--Brig

Lightspeed chuckled a little at Pyro's response to the question he had posed to his unit commander. Unsurprisingly, Scattershot's answer was a non-answer.

"Design abnormality, hm? Well, the legends about those go all the way back to the Thirteen and the lineage of Primes. The possibility that Nexus Prime was not just one mech, but one made of several. And of course there were the Triorian guard. And the even rarer mechanoid who possesses even more than three transformations."

Lightspeed leaned back a little in his cell, getting more comfortable. Inasmuch as such was possible.

"I wonder what they think they've found..."
___

Rad had sat with his arms folded over his kneejoints, listening to the others in the cells talking amongst themselves. The brig itself, once brimming with Sweep and Seeker activity, had been left almost entirely empty, save for a scant few Vehicon automatons. As Scattershot threw a specific question out to some of them, Rad's auditories perked up as he pondered a response.

"Well, I would venture a guess, but without knowing specifically what said flaw actually is, it's difficult to theorize how it could be twisted. But, I mean c'mon, we all know the Decepticons aren't shackled with a moral code or, in most cases, any kind of conscience to speak of. That's their advantage--if you want to call it that--at least in terms of fighting a war. They can sacrifice a dozen of their own men if they think it will make a hundred more even stronger. Slaggin' they'd probably sacrifice a hundred to make a dozen stronger. Just depends on which dozen it would be."

Garrus-9 – Southern Wing – Cell Block G

Airachnid glared at Flame as he explained his line of reasoning. As he finished a relaxed smile replaced the glare on her face. The delusional little Autobot wasn’t really informed; he was just drawing conclusions from whatever scuttlebutt was going around the prison. She still didn’t like having any information on her past floating around, but if it was just rumors then she could let that go. Let the others think she was a joke then, underestimating her was nearly as good as fearing her.

“Oh Flame, much like I don’t understand how the Autobots work,” she turned and walked back to her chair, stifling a snicker, “you don’t understand how the Decepticons work.” She sat back down in her chair, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap once again. “The only prisoners who get rescued or exchanged for are far more important then you or I. That aside I am quite happy not being on the Decepticon radar.”

“The primary attention a captured Decepticon gets from the higher ranks is an execution order to prevent leaking of information and assuming they are of no great importance. The fact that I’ve been hear for as long as I have means the Justice Division isn’t concerned with me. If they aren’t concerned about me I’m not concerned about them. I’ve always preferred to focus on myself first and I will continue to do so. Maybe you would find more success thinking the same my fellow prisoner.”

*

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing – Cell Block G

Scowl was pondering the game board when he heard something. He was always hearing things of course; his sensitive audio receptors meant he heard lots of things in the prison. He had learned to filter most of it out, just listening for certain key words or things out of the ordinary, unless he was bored. When he was bored everything was open game. It was probably a violation of privacy, but they were in prison. You couldn’t expect any sort of real privacy there.

What he heard now was something out of the ordinary. The guards were moving around, moving around a lot. He was used to hearing the standard leisurely pace of the patrols and guards, but this was much more hurried. It was a panicked run or anything, but it was a good jog, and it was lots of guards. This many guards meant it wasn’t just a localized thing like an escape attempt or unruly prisoner. He hadn’t heard any mention of a security drill either, which meant something was up.

He focused his receptors, listening into conversations between guards now. Voices sounded a bit tense and serious. There was a mention of a Code Beta. A frown formed on his face. He wasn’t sure if he could recall a Code Beta happening since he’d been in the prison or not. Either way it was an interesting bit of news that he felt compelled to share.

While the little game code he and Icepick had worked out wasn’t really meant for conversations he suspected he could get his message across. Tapping on the wall he roughly sent a message to Icepick consisting of ‘Whats Code Beta?’