Garrus 9 – Amphitheater>>"NO! Primus no. Please don't....don't do anything foolish. You're walking such a fragile line right now. You can't..."<<
Umbra almost flinched when Icepick's reply came over the comm lines. As it was, she would rather not attract anymore unwanted attention from Bludgeon. Icepick had kept his reactions well internalized as well...Hm. Being one of the Decepticons' number...probably meant that the one thing that she didn't need to do was wear her spark on her shoulder plating.
>>"I don't....I don't know for certain. When they fix Monstructor's weakness they might, I dunno, salvage who we are somehow. Science has come a long way since that beast was forged. If you want to survive, your dedication to the cause must be absolute. You...you can't do anything rash now. Follow Bludgeon's lead. He will guide you w-when I can't. And then....then I'll be back. Just like before. Just like in the cells heheh."<<
>>”Then why does it sound like you're saying good-bye?”<< Umbra asked rhetorically.
What Icepick was saying...it was hard to swallow despite much much she
dearly wanted it to be true. She could still hope for Icepick's sake at least. Icepick was right about one thing though. Her dedication to her course needed to be absolute. The Decepticons did not suffer traitors lightly, and she supposed she had already made that choice. Horror stories about the DJD filtered over to even the Autobot ranks. Mostly because sometimes there would be a Decepticon prisoner on the List and the DJD would tear through an Autobot facility to get to them and kill everyone. In terrible, gruesome ways. She didn't really want to die like that.
>>”But...okay!”<< Umbra said with a little more cheer. She smiled over at Icepick in order to reassure him. He didn't need to worry about her anymore than he had to.
>>”I'll be waiting for you, Icepick! Don't worry about me, I'll stick to Bludgeon like glue. And then...then you'll come back. I know you will. And it'll be even better than in the cells.”<<That sounded almost too optimistic, but hopefully Icepick would believe that she believed him. She didn't believe him. The Decepticons had an overwhelmingly Machiavellian approach toward everything. They wouldn't hesitate to squish someone like Icepick in order to accomplish a grander goal. At least, that's what her vorns as an Autobot had taught her. Decepticons were ruthless, cold killers as liable to turn on you as each other. The truth of things was never as black and white as it could seem.
Suddenly, Bludgeon stopped and snatched the blaster from Umbra's hands. She looked up at him with surprised, wide optics. “Wha-”
“I betrayed you and shall throw you in with the rest of the Autobot prisoners. You will be 'restrained' and herded in with the rest of the Autobot prisoners. From there, you will be my optics and audios. If you hear something that could be useful to us, let me know immediately. Understand? Take care before you speak. Think, Umbra,” Bludgeon said with an intense look down at the femme. He pressed the barrel of the blaster up against the small of her back.
Umbra had a momentary internalized panic, which was only denoted outwardly by how her wide optics were. Slowly, she realized what was happening. Bludgeon had planned this all along. To use her to...spy on the other Autobots – or maybe just the Autobots, the enemy? What would a Decepticon say? Autobot scum? Autobums? Eh...She'd just stick with Autobots. Umbra nodded slowly to show that she understood.
“Good,” Bludgeon said continuing to walk forward, now prodding Umbra along with the end of the blaster until she adjusted to the pace. The amphitheater was just ahead. Passing over the threshold, Bludgeon looked on curious to see the flash of an orbital bounce. Out of it came someone he did not recognize followed by a much shorter femme. Seeing as he had been confined in Garrus-9 for what seemed like time immemorial, this was largely unsurprising. The ancient looking one clearly held some significance, for both Cyclonus and Scourge seemed to speak to him respectfully.
As Bludgeon's little trio entered the amphitheater, the former commander of the
Empirion opened a communique to Cyclonus.
>>”Commander Cyclonus,”<< Bludgeon began respectfully,
>>”I apologize for the delay. I have brought Icepick as ordered. I also have an interesting proposition for you. The femme that is my prisoner was once a prisoner here and wishes to join our cause. As a show of loyalty, she will infiltrate the group of Autobot prisoners and report back to us any relevant information that she gleans from them. With your permission, of course.”<<It wasn't long before the sweeps took notice of their arrival, recognizing Icepick as one of the six. They approached while Bludgeon watched impassively, handling off Icepick carefully as they reached for the Monstercon. Umbra perked up slightly to watch Icepick get pulled away, trying to pass off her concern for curiosity. Glancing down at his protege, Bludgeon gestured for one of the Seekers to come to him.
“What?” the seeker said gruffly as he walked up.
“I require a pair of stasis cuffs.”
“Yeah? And who do you think you....oh. Er, I mean. Right away,” the seeker hastily corrected as he recognized Bludgeon and trotted off to fetch the requested item. Umbra scowled as the seeker trotted away wiping away a bit of energon from her faceplate. She spat with contempt onto the floor, which only prompted Bludgeon to press the blaster more firmly into her back. Might as well play the part, right?
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Nightbeat could only watch with horror as the butcher of the bogs smashed Scattershot's faceplate in with a sickening crack. Oooof! That had to hurt. Though Nightbeat doubted Scattershot really felt anything but fury when Snaptrap turned around and completely annihilated the space where Lightspeed's leg used to be. The detective's jaw hung open a little at the sheer brutality of it. Lightspeed screamed – what else could he do really – and fell to the ground – again, what else.
It was then that one of Snaptrap's men walked over to Lightspeed and ground his heel into Lightspeed's newly acquired stump. Nightbeat was furious. He wanted to push Overbite away, make him stop – something - but all he could do was stand there and watch. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Overbite froze the stump closed, which confused Nightbeat at first. It made more sense after he saw what it did for Lightspeed. It stopped the leak. At least Lightspeed wouldn't bleed out. And then he saw something far more interesting.
Rushing over to the downed Technobot's side, Nightbeat looked Lightspeed over while an orbital bounce illuminated the amphitheater. Excellent timing! “
Lightspeed, are you okay?!” Nightbeat asked with genuine concern as he slipped his arms under the Technobot's and gripped the blaster behind them. Its barrel was crushed, but that wasn't what he was interested in. Snapping off the gun's trigger quickly and quietly, Nightbeat hid it in a fist as he tightened his grip on Lightspeed and moved the Technobot to a place where he could lay down comfortably.
Grabbing one of Lightspeed's hands and holding it, Nightbeat smiled reassuringly at the Technobot. “It's alright, just hang in there. You're going to be okay.
Brainstorm, can you give me a hand over here? Maybe you can do something I can't. Lightspeed, are you comfortable here? I'm right here.”
Nightbeat was well aware that he was jabbering. It was hard not to. Even though he had gotten the gun part that Brainstorm wanted, Lightspeed just gotten his
leg shot off. Because Scattershot had to go and be...well. Scattershot. Arg...a single misstep and they were slagged. This was why he didn't like to work in teams. He could handle things better alone. Poor Lightspeed...
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“Barbaric...” Highbrow was nearly at a loss for words at the display of utter brutality demonstrated by the Seacon Commander. Nearly. What kind of monster was he that he would strike down Lightspeed? One who had only been utterly compliant! It! It..! Well, it boggled the mind, it did. Highbrow simply could not bear to look. It was difficult enough to be forced to listen to Lightspeed's abject shrieks of agony.
“Vulgar...” Highbrow muttered under his breath as he looked away, turning his attention to the other areas of the amphitheater. War was so...uncivilized. And to be as thoroughly swept up in its tempestuous embrace as he was...it galled him to no end. His mind could be put to such better uses than simply feeding an endless war machine. One that saw his dear, if somewhat dim, comrades time and time again mutilated before his very optics.
How much longer was their species to be enslaved to the cruel cycle of combat? He simply did not know. While some like Scattershot may thrive in war, those like Lightspeed and himself certainly preferred the placid breeze of gentler times.
Blinking as the flash of an orbital bounce momentarily blinded him, Highbrow looked up to observe the new arrivals. However, once the sight of the ancient and revered praetor and scientist had captured his optics, Highbrow nearly floated a foot off of the ground.
“By the Primes, that's Jhiaxus!” Highbrow breathed, disbelieving. This...well this did leave him speechless. Quite indubitably so. With optics as round as orbs, Highbrow tapped Brainstorm's arm urgently. “
B-B-Brainstorm, look!
Look! Oh, do tell me my optics are not malfunctioning!”
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Slog was fairly sure that he had slipped in and out of stasis as he had been carried to wherever he was now. When he came to this time, the de facto leader of the Monstructor Six felt a little more coherent than before. Probably because he was not longer being jostled on someone's shoulder. He was laying down horizontally on a flat surface. He turned his head slightly to take in his surroundings.
The other Monstercons rested on the slabs. Well, most of them anyway. He did not see Icepick or Birdbrain. Perhaps that was for the best. Whatever their Decepticon brethren had planned for them, Slog did not particularly relish the prospect of it. They had come for the monster. Not for them. That was abundantly clear. They had come for
him. The bane of their collective existence.
Slog attempted to rise into a sitting position, but only found the costs of such an effort outweighed any benefits that it might have had. Instead, he stared stalwartly at the ceiling, images of battle and freedom dancing through his mind. Despair filled Slog at the thought that he would likely never be able to create such works of art. Would no longer be...anything...anymore soon.
A flash drew Slog's attention back toward the assembled Decepticons in the amphitheater. His optics slowly widened as he recognized an altogether too familiar form. That face...No...It wasn't...wasn't possible. The madman who had done this to them...And...the Decepticons were treating him as an honored guest. They couldn't actually be so foolish as to trust him...could they?
The shock of seeing Jhiaxus made Slog sit up albeit slowly and not without a fair degree of pain, but he could not help it. He was compelled.
“
Jhiaxus...” Slog uttered softly through the pain.
The return of the praetor cast the amphitheater in a somewhat surreal atmosphere. Nothing seemed quite real. Jhiaxus had cursed them to their nightmarish existence. Living in fear that the next moment would be the last individual thought they ever had. As the scientist limped toward where he sat on his slab, Slog managed to regain a bit of his composure - not much but enough to formulate sentences once more.
“Praetor...H-How are you...” Slog trailed off, searching for the right word. Functional? Alive? No, no. He meant all of that, but neither captured it quite right. He finally just compromised. “How are you here...?”
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Firewire went relatively unnoticed in the flash of the orbital bounce and the subsequent arrival of Jhiaxus. As soon as the praetor arrived, he united with Cyclonus and Scourge. Firewire made certain to keep close, but not make an overt show of her presence. That might be odd to someone like Cyclonus, but Firewire doubted that horn head even acknowledged her existence either like his good buddy Mr. Elitist decaying heel struts that she was going to be assisting.
The DSS agent recorded the visual and audio of Jhiaxus's reunion with Scourge and Cyclonus. Lord Scorpy had requested everything, and Firewire was going to be slagged if she did not deliver. She was useful too! Competent! However, as Jhiaxus used the term 'his precious six', the little femme couldn't help but grimace a little.
Was Jhiaxus – the scientist whom she had long admired – really this creepy? He was downright unnerving to be around. Had more than a little superiority complex too from the looks of it. Still, Firewire managed to keep her reaction largely internalized. She kept her optics riveted on Jhiaxus and awaited orders from him. If he needed something, he would probably just say it and expect it to be done. That was what she was here for.
Worst. Assignment. Ever. By the forge of Solus Prime, this sucked. The only light was that Scorpy trusted her to be his optics. She wasn't sure if she could stand being around Jhiaxus otherwise. It felt even worse to be treated as she once was. Disposable. Somehow it stung even more now that she had been recognized as an actual...mechanoid. To be...once more nothing but an object or tool to be used. Was this how Reflector felt all the time? She hoped not. For his sake.
Grrr...Firewire couldn't let this this...this...crotchety, dilapidated, crusty, old praetor get her down! No! NEVER! Nope! She was going to steal all of his scientific secrets. Yes. And then...she could give them to Scorpy and then apply them to her own research....Oh yes. Stealing all of this old fogey's scientific secrets. Yes. That was what she was going to do. Oh yes. Yep.