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Garrus-9 -- The Aequitas Chamber

Rippersnapper was in his own little world, pouncing on Legislators, ripping them apart, devouring their innards. The golden drones were no match for the amphibious terrorist. They went down one by one, offering little in the way of resistance. The shark monster took a few hits, but it was nothing worth noting. A few scorch marks here and there, barely noticeable. The former actor was too consumed with, well, consuming his enemies to really notice anything but his meal or meals as it were. He was barely even conscious of Blot’s suggestion to save something for Hun-grrr, giving only a low, mouth-filled grunt as a response.

Even the countdown drew little of Rippersnapper’s attention. The numbers echoed through his cranial unit, but he had no idea what they meant nor did he really care. He was too busy satisfying his pallet to mind some erroneous numbers being spoken by Omega Supreme. “Wait, Omega Supreme?” The shark creature mumbled, parts of a Legislator hanging from his open jaws. Once the countdown reached zero, the terrorist felt the powerful blast wave from the Omega Sentinel’s rocket mode. The blue and white Terrorcon gripped the floor with his serrated actuators, trying to hold on while his dinner blew back and out of the chamber. Ripper held firm to the floor, his beast mode’s claws digging deeper and deeper into the smooth metallic surface.

Finally, after what seemed like vorns, the blast wave subsided and calm was restored to the room. Omega had escaped through the large hole in the ceiling, rocketing up into orbit where he then went to transwarp. With the present threat gone, Rippersnapper released his grip on the floor and got to his feet. Looking around for another Legislator to eat, the former actor was disappointed when those that remained functioning ceased their aggressions and began to utter “1533” in one collective voice. It was annoying, but what was more annoying was when they also rocketed up through the breach in the ceiling, leaving only the non-functioning drones behind.

“Well, that sucks. No more live food,” Rippersnapper commented as he walked over to Blot and Sinnertwin. In all actuality, his stomach was filled as much as it could be. Those Legislators were big and numerous, but easy to bring down. They were more than just a snack. They were a complete breakfast, lunch and dinner. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m pretty much full. Probably should report back to Hun-grrr and let him know what happened.”

Garrus-9 – Aequitas Chamber

And just like that, it was over. The Legislators began uttering in mass '1533' and soon, they all launched themselves through the opening that Omega Supreme had left behind. Spinister stared after them for a moment, considering their retreat thoughtfully. Not that the outside observer could really tell what if anything was pinging around in his processor. He preferred it that way with most.

That did remind the former inmate of one of the other inmates that had managed to grow close to him over the vorns. Where was Krok anyway? Probably looking around for Gatoraider if Spinister had to guess. If Krok hadn't died during the earlier excitement. The helicopter considered visiting the central medical bay after he was sure Cyclonus and the rest of their rescuers had no further use for him.

The dark colored mechanoid walked over to where Cyclonus and others had rallied, quiet as ever. He managed to get within audio shot to catch the tail end of the horned Decepticon's reply to Bludgeon.

"Yes. That he should," Cyclonus said, looking to the other Decepticons. "Come. We make for the command center. We will apprise Lord Scorponok fully of what has transpired here. Scourge, ensure that your forces have finished their sweep of the prison. I want no more surprises like this one."

Spinister nodded in acknowledgment of the orders though no one would notice. Despite how large he was, Spinister tended to blend into the background.

“So the rumours about Skorponok being here are true? Good. I have always wanted to meet him, then maybe I can get the slag out of this gulag. Let’s hope some good intel can trade my way out, I’ve been here a looooong time and these ‘bots are pretty loose-lipped if you pretend to like ‘em enough."

The voice came from someone that Spinister did not recognize. His crimson optics narrowed as he racked his processor for the mech's name or face or an instance when the hulking helicopter might have seen this inmate before.

“I don't recognize you,” Spinister remarked to Counterpunch. “How long have you been here?” As the group turned to follow Cyclonus's lead, Spinister did also, still regarding Counterpunch curiously, letting his question hang in the air.

Garrus-9 – Mines

Snaptrap observed Goldrush's reaction with interest. His amber optics glowered at Goldrush piercingly, trying to determine his allegiances. The Decepticon soon moved on to answer his other queries with some effort.

"I, ah, I was captured. A-A long t-time ago. Um, I served my sentence and, well, I suppose rather than release me back into the war, I convinced the warden of my skills as a miner, manager and so forth and, well, sort of stayed on and subcontracted out my services in overseeing excavation operations in exchange for a nominal percentage of the profits derived therefrom. I am still very much a Decepticon."

The butcher's amber optics flickered as Goldrush spoke though he betrayed no other outward sign of emotion. His grip shifted on the hilt of his blade, the azure sword without its usual wreath of flames for the moment. Goldrush continued his explanation.

"Those, um, other mechs you see me conversing with are members of my staff. I, hahah, oddly enough, was allowed to turn some of my profits into opening up a drinking establishment servicing the various and sundry Cybertronians who made their way through Garrus-9. B-b-but still very much a Decepticon, I assure you. J-just in disguise, you might say."

As another small tremor quaked through the mines and distacted the Decepticon for a moment, the butcher of the bogs flicked his sword up from its resting place with the tip slightly embedded in the stone floor. He held it only a circuit's breadth away from Goldrush's neck. The azure sword suddenly burst into flame, the tongues of fire dancing around Goldrush's head and shoulders. Only to heat the armor there a bit.

The Seacon Commander required Goldrush's full attention.

“You chose to stay? Why?” Malice laced the butcher's tone. He nodded his head to indicate Goldrush's staff behind him. “And your staff. Are they too Decepticons in disguise?”

Garrus-9--Aequitas Chamber

It had been a Terrorcon's delight. Just as before when they seemingly had a limitless supply of Autobots to tear through. These automatons did not have nice, tasty sparks buried deeper within their innards, but they were satisfying to rip apart and consume just the same. Well, almost just the same. And Sinnertwin had done exactly that, letting loose with all of his bestial fury just as the other Terrorcons were doing.

One frustrating fact about these...things...was that they did not flee. There was no fear. There should have been fear! Stupid, mindless food. Sinnertwin hated them all the more. He couldn't relish the glint of terror in their optics as his dual-heads latched down and ripped off a limb or tore through a chassis.

He had weathered Omega Supreme's departure just as the rest of them had, and continued his slaughter in earnest. When all was said and done, even as the Legislators were launching themselves away, Sinnertwin had accumulated himself a nice little pile of broken bodies and was gnawing away contentedly.

“Well, that sucks. No more live food. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m pretty much full. Probably should report back to Hun-grrr and let him know what happened."

One of Sinnertwin's heads looked up from the torso he had been chewing on.

"So full. So happy. Can't....move. Don't want to."

Garrus-9--Mines

Talking to Snaptrap, well, Goldrush imagined that talking to Megatron himself couldn't be a whole lot more intimidating. The reputation had by the Butcher of the Bogs was one of those things that filtered its way to the furthest corners of the war front, and certainly had been discussed within the prison cells and bar stools of Garrus-9 more than once.

When that very same Butcher brandished his blade and the plasma flames licked the edges of Goldrush's plating, the golden mech thought that he might very well spring some random leak right then and there. He could only imagine how many Cybertronians had died in a similar position to where he was now standing.

“You chose to stay? Why? And your staff. Are they too Decepticons in disguise?"

"I-I-I," Goldrush stammered, clearing his vocalizer as well as his thoughts before attempting to take a fresh stab at it. Ooh. Stab. Not what he wanted to think about right now.

"I, well, I had sort of come to the conclusion that I was not an effective warrior. The whole notion of 'Peace through Tyranny', the overthrow of the corrupt lineage of Primes. I was for all of it. B-But my ability to execute Megatron's vision on the battlefront was, um, lacking. M-m-my skills in t-turning a profit though, those are decidedly better."

He then looked back at his barstaff. All of their optics were locked on him and his conversation with Snaptrap. He turned back to face the Butcher.

"T-them? No. N-no. Um, I'm afraid the warden would've seen the idea of allowing me a staff of Decepticons as a bridge too far. N-no. T-they were a handful of, um, well layabouts or former guards or injured crewmechs that Maximus wanted me to find suitable employment for. All Autobots. Decent workers, a-as Autobots go, heh. But, well, loyal to Optimus and his foolish ideals, unfortunately."

Garrus-9 – Mines

Goldrush was afraid. That much was evident to the Butcher. Some part of him relished seeing that fear in his enemies. But in a potential Decepticon being questioned about his loyalties? Snaptrap was decidedly less than pleased to see it. The longer this went on, the longer his attention was distracted from his flock of prisoners and those conniving insects. It was dangerous to turn his back on either.

"I, well, I had sort of come to the conclusion that I was not an effective warrior. The whole notion of 'Peace through Tyranny', the overthrow of the corrupt lineage of Primes. I was for all of it. B-But my ability to execute Megatron's vision on the battlefront was, um, lacking. M-m-my skills in t-turning a profit though, those are decidedly better."

The Seacon Commander stared stoically at Goldrush, still holding his sword by the mech's cranium.

"T-them? No. N-no. Um, I'm afraid the warden would've seen the idea of allowing me a staff of Decepticons as a bridge too far. N-no. T-they were a handful of, um, well layabouts or former guards or injured crewmechs that Maximus wanted me to find suitable employment for. All Autobots. Decent workers, a-as Autobots go, heh. But, well, loyal to Optimus and his foolish ideals, unfortunately."

“Yes, quite foolish, Autobots, aren't they?” Snaptrap rumbled. The butcher of the bogs lowered his sword and rested it in the floor once more, turning his malevolent stare onto Goldrush's staff. His optics swept their ranks, finally coming to linger on one of them. He pointed to the Autobot and gestured for it to approach.

The Autobot's optics went wide at being singled out. He looked from side to side, but there could be no doubt. He like Goldrush before him was to approach the butcher. Knitting his hands together, Skipway stepped forward, looking a lot like a puppycon that was about to be kicked.

“Y-y-yes, D-d-decepticon boss...g-guard...s-s-sir...?” Skipway stuttered, clearly unsure of how to address the butcher of the bogs. The bot withered under Snaptrap's gaze, stealing little terrified glances at Goldrush. Snaptrap did not answer him, but instead regarded Goldrush.

Skipway also looked over to his long-time supervisor and friend with an uncertain smile, obviously drawing some confidence and comfort just by being near Goldrush.

The Seacon Commander hefted his sword up, extinguishing it in the process and extended it out to Goldrush.

“Prove you are a Decepticon,” he said coldly, “Kill him.”

Garrus-9 – The Rig

>>"Hun-Grr? Master? We made it to where Omega is. He called up these...big gold...drones! They are delicious! I've got some for you, but I...I can't drag 'em back alive..."<< Blot reported sounding deeply contrite as he ripped out a Legislator's spine and crammed it into his mouth before tossing the golden peacekeeper into his pile of offerings. >>”What...what should I do?"<<

Alerted by a sudden communications link, Hun-Grrr's both heads instinctively rose from a still writhing and thrashing body before him - an Autobot whose fate was to be carefully being devoured alive by the sadistic monster known to most as the Terrorcon. Energon and cutting fluids were dripping from his jaws on to what was left of his latest victim – the second of the three unlucky enough Autobots whom the other Terrorcons had dragged to his temporary lair to satisfy his insatiable hunger at least for a short while.

With the first of the three he had not been able to resist his greed for destruction. He had ripped the Autobot apart far too quickly, thus denying himself the chance to savor the kill. The second one had been up for far more grizzly fate. It was not enough for the beast to just eat his victims. He had been doing it with a surgeon's precision. Maximizing the pain and suffering of his victim while he killed them – ripping out a layer after layer of non-critical parts around the major organs. Until the transmission from Blot reached him.

>>”Rrrrr... Of courrrse you can Blot. You just need to use your cerebral functions creatively.”<< Hun-Gar growled into the communicator - and from the corner of his optic, caught the third Autobot trying to crawl away from him with whatever little strength it had left. A feeble attempt with no chance of success but the sheer terror the Autobot practically stunk of was oh so delightful.

Rising to his feet from the prone position before his current victim, the two-headed Algean razor beast moved over to his escapist victim and snatched the Autobot from the floor with his jaws before throwing it violently into the far end of the Rig, away from the only entrance out of it, uncaring of what damage his action might have caused.

>>”Maim it Blot. Crrrrush its limbs and joints... and it will have no choice.”<<

Garrus-9 – Skies

Apeface had kept circling the penitentiary complex as a liaison between the Fleet and invasion forces after managing to communicate with the Fleet through laser signaling method. Whatever was distracting the communications had caused the Decepticons attack party their first major blow during their assault on Garrus-9. Omega Supreme had broken out and escaped by performing an emergency transwarp jump.

It was infuriating to say the least. Had Apeface's original communication attempt reached the Fleet, Omega Supreme would have been shot before he would have had his chance to escape.

And now? Now those golden yellow drones they had encountered down in the Aequitas chamber were flying up. Ridiculous. Where could they go? Without the chokepoints caused by the lack of room to maneuver inside the prison, the Legislators were easily outnumbered and in the air – completely outmatched.

His buddy Snapdragon and those Sweeps and Seekers already in the air were being joined by number of others pouring out of the various scars in the surface of Garrus-9, joining the slaughter that had now moved from the prison to the skies. Yes, slaughter. The Legislators were not fighting back, they were single-mindedly headed upwards, with no clear indication what it could possibly achieve, while turning to balls of fire by the Decepticon weapons – one by one.

The was a pattern though. The flight-able Legislators, without treads on their backs – they were traveling in packs of three, some of them carrying those that were clearly designed for ground combat. Then it began. The packs of three began to combine like... Reflector? Only that they were turning into shuttle crafts. It began making more sense. They really were trying to escape. And if they could do this, the likelihood of them being able to make a transwarp jump was...

Slag.

There went the first. While the Fleet and and airborne Decepticons were clearly efficient in their annihilation of the Legislators force who were now dropping like flies, they were still unable to prevent some of them slipping by.

Another Sweeps blasted apart the last surviving pack of three. No more would escape. But where had those few shuttle crafts taken off that had had the chance? Were these things connected to the Autobots or something else entirely? The Horrorcon saboteur did not like riddles like this.

Perhaps... Perhaps examining the remaining Legislators would provide them answers.

Garrus-9--Mines

“Yes, quite foolish, Autobots, aren't they?" Snaptrap said, something that Goldrush could easily latch on to.

"Y-Yes. yes. Very much so, sir. I'm amazed the war has gone on this long, really, given their state of affairs."

Goldrush had almost chuckled but he stifled it. Snaptrap hardly seemed like the type to enjoy sharing in mutual bemusement of any kind. He had lowered his sword at least. Progress, of a kind.

But...then his attentions went somewhere else. Back in the direction of his staff. Then the Butcher motioned for one of them to come forward. Goldrush turned also. he couldn't imagine that this would be good, but he had talked his way through the possibility of an imminent execution. he was quite certain he could do the same for his associates.

When Skipway approached, he stuttered and stammered in front of the imposing Decepticon, but Goldrush couldn't blame him in the slightest since he had done the very same thing. When Skip looked in his direction, he gave his bartender the most reassuring nod he could manage under the circumstances. It wasn't much, but he had to hope it was better than nothing.

“Prove you are a Decepticon."

Goldrush turned back to face Snaptrap.

"Kill him."

And his spark sunk. He heard an audible gasp leave Skipway's vocalizer, even as it felt like Goldrush's very essence was being crushed. There had been a time when he would have barely thought twice about Snaptrap's command. He had become loyal to Megatron's vision for a reason, for many reasons, and he knew that those who stood against them would pay a price--often the ultimate one. But he had worked alongside these Autobots for some time now. Many vorns in some cases. Skipway had come into his employ after sustaining a few too many injuries during his service aboard the Steelhaven and having been deemed a liability.

Goldrush looked over at Skipway and saw that his bartender was looking at him furtively, while still attempting to maintain his calm as best he could.

"B-Boss?" he said softly.

Goldrush started to speak but the words caught in his processors again.

"W-With what? I'm not a killercon. I don't....maim, manhandle, whatever....mechs with my hands l-like...like the DJD! And w-why? My staff have been obedient. No ruckus!" Goldrush shot an evil stare in the direction of Whirl and some of the other mechanoids.

"Why not him?! I'd be happy to kill him! I've heard about him."

Garrus-9 – Mines

"W-With what? I'm not a killercon. I don't....maim, manhandle, whatever....mechs with my hands l-like...like the DJD!”

“With this,” Snaptrap answered, offering the questionable Decepticon his sword.

”And w-why? My staff have been obedient. No ruckus!" Goldrush shot an evil stare in the direction of Whirl and some of the other mechanoids. "Why not him?! I'd be happy to kill him! I've heard about him."

Snaptrap followed Goldrush's gaze over to Whirl who had not as of yet ceased quibbling with the other Autobot. The butcher's amber optics flickered slightly before turning his attention back to Goldrush. Yet another reminder that the more time that he spent distracted by this Goldrush, the more the order of the mines was threatened by a descent in to chaos.

“Because I did not command you to kill him. It should not matter which Autobot you kill, should it? Your staff or not, they are Autobots. Or perhaps you would like to waste more of my time with excuses?”

The Butcher of the Bogs shoved the hilt of his sword into Goldrush's actuators.

”Kill him.”

Garrus-9 – Mines

"Well, that's what wa-war does to bots li-li-like us." The Technobot gunner chimed in shortly following Highbrow's apology to the group. "It'll br-bring out the w-w-w-worst in anyone..." He took another swing of his tool into the mineral deposits just to keep up appearance with their Decepticon guards. "You don't need to ap-apologize there, Hi-Highbrow, you're only a victim of the war's effect."

“Ahh...My thanks, Strafe,” Highbrow uttered after a moment of thought. The scientist hefted his pick ax and brought it down upon the wall once more. “But what a war...” Highbrow muttered, “Sometimes I find it difficult to continue...to go on in all honesty.”

"We have other issues to keep an optic on. Dunno who or care when, but some nimrod piston polisher dumped a bunch of silver balls in here. Automated sensors... and before you ask Roadblock, no I don't know what they're searching for. Don't even look like Decepticon standard issue. Irregardless, avoid'em if ya can. Smash'em if they get too much like Nightbeat over there. Don't need them silver probes getting into our business before we're ready to throw our detestable hosts their welcome to Garrus Party," Scattershot had interjected. Highbrow glanced over to one of the silver scanner orbs with as much disinterest as could possibly be mustered.

“Smash them? That would only antagonize our captors further, you dolt. Do you want to draw both their attention and their ire? Have you forgotten so quickly what transpired with regards to Lightspeed and Brainstorm?!” Highbrow protested indignantly.

"One of 'em scanned me just about a half-a-breem or so ago. It just clicked a few times and whizzed off in another direction. Whatever it wanted, it didn't want me."

“What?” Highbrow looked over to Pointblank with a countenance of concern accompanied by a keen scientific curiosity. The electronic warfare specialist rubbed his chin thoughtfully and narrowed his optics, scrutinizing Pointblank with a perceptive optic. He could not help but wish to know what the Decepticons were after and how best not to give it to them. A thorough examination of Pointblank and one of the 'chosen' mechanoids would prove most enlightening.

"Oh man, they got Afterburner!"Pointblank said, stepping away from his piece of the mine wall to get a better look.

“What?!” Highbrow dropped his pick and stepped up beside Pointblank, trying to get a better look. One of their own number had something that the Decepticons wanted! But...what? Bother! Highbrow scowled as the realization crept over him that he did not have the proper tools to carry out a proper analysis. Not only that, but they were taking away the ones that tested 'positive'. Twice bothered! Oh yes. And woe to poor Afterburner too. Though...Highbrow was more concerned with...

The scientist turned his head to eye Scattershot surreptitiously. He could not imagine that the Technobot commander would simply accept this new occurrence calmly. Highbrow lightly tapped Pointblank on his arm to draw his attention toward their robust comrade.

Garrus-9--Mines

"With this," Snaptrap had said coldly. Goldrush knew that it had been a foolish question as soon as he had uttered it. If the Butcher was serious, which he clearly was. Then he was also certainly not going to be swayed or delayed by Goldrush's lack of weapon or any other conspicuous means of killing a mech manually. When Snaptrap had gone a step further and handed over his very own sword, Goldrush couldn't help but feel his spark sink a little more. Holding it, he could only imagine how many Cybertronians and other lifeforms across the universe had met their end on this very blade.

And Snaptrap was hardly done.

“Because I did not command you to kill him. It should not matter which Autobot you kill, should it? Your staff or not, they are Autobots. Or perhaps you would like to waste more of my time with excuses?"

Goldrush's gaze lowered, immediately finding the surface of the mines. He would look anywhere rather than meeting the intimidating stare of the Butcher of the Bogs in this moment.

"I....o-of course. Of course not, my lord," Goldrush said, his mind weighing all of the options in front of him. He could see no scenario whereby this ended well. No scenario where Skipway walked out of these mines alive. And so....a choice.

"B-Boss? Sir? I...," Skipway said, but before he could get any further, Goldrush turned and lunged, driving the blade directly through his bartender's chest. Skipway cried out, clutching onto Goldrush's shoulder as he staggered forward. Goldrush could feel the crackle of electricity and other energies--he had hit the spark chamber--and feel the telltale trickle of fluids as they ran down the hilt of the blade and his own hands.

So, he was a true Decepticon after all.

He hadn't been sure until that very moment.

Garrus-9 – Aequitas Chamber

An unusually robust, white, black and purple Cybertronian starfighter descended through the massive wound opened by the mightiest of Omega Sentinels into the face of Garrus-9. Omega Supreme was gone. The immediate threat caused by gigantic Autobot had passed and Apeface wanted to see for himself what was left of where it all began. Transforming into his simian beast form in mid-air, the Horrorcon saboteur landed right next to a broken body of a Legislator.

Bodies everywhere. Mostly Legislators but the Decepticons had not survived without casualties of their own. Nothing new there. It was war. Terrible waste. No matter of his carefully crafted reputation, Apeface still had sympathy to spare for those who fought for the cause. The war had been necessary. He and so many others had had no choice but to harden themselves to win it. War was never just or fair. But one had to fight for what you believed in or accept being oppressed yourself.

“Poor bastards.” Apeface muttered to no one in particular, looking at the still smoking wrecks of two Decepticons he had fought alongside with many times. Their optics dead, their mouths wide open to scream out their agony, now forever etched on their faces. “Primus be fragging praised.”

A noise. Something so out of place that he could recognize it anywhere. And how many times he had witnessed it? Only once? Maybe twice? That mattered little. What did matter was the reason behind it, for it was the unmistakable sounds of a portal being ripped open in the fabric of space. And Apeface knew only one being with access to this technology. It could mean only one thing.

Scorponok.

The brutish Horrorcon immediately turned on his heels, transforming into his robot form with speed only a triplechanger could attest to. Standing in attention out of respect he had for his commander, and encouraging other Decepticons to take his example - Apeface lifted his hand to salute the unquestionable leader of the Decepticons within this galactic sector – High Commander Scorponok, the mastermind behind the conquest of Nebulos and the fall of Garrus-9.

Changed. That was the first thought in Apeface's mind as the dark shape from the depths of the portal grew larger and more visible. The new black and golden armor was gone, replaced by one with the traditional green and purple color scheme which hearkened back to Scorponok's origins as part of the manual laborer caste. It was not that surprising, he could only imagine the clash between Scorponok and Fortress Maximus earlier. It had had to been a hard earned victory. The fact that Scorponok was already back to his feet spoke much about their leader's resolve. But caught his attention more than superficial change their Commander was the cold, barely contained fury that Scorponok's every movement mirrored. He had seen this before. Scorponok at his worst. Volatile for violence even against his own troops. They would have proceed with caution in their interactions with him until the red haze of rage had cleared off.

The portal died out. Whole chamber grew silent. And in the center of it all stood mighty Scorponok in his nearly impenetrable armor plating, bristling with lethal weapons and dwarfing even large Decepticons like Apeface himself in his wake. It was one of those moments Apeface was glad he was not the one who'd have to explain what the slag had just happened to his leader.

“CYCLONUS!”

Apeface heard Scorponok roaring out the name of his second in command, while making a gesture with his massive clawed arm for the everyone in his presence to look around them.

“This. Explain this. NOW!”

Garrus 9: Mines

"Of course it will, damn tin plated bucket headed excuse...." Scattershot muttered his response to Highbrow as he rubbed the top of the bridge of his nose just below the temple. His left hand rested on the inverted pick as he allowed the feeling of irritation to subside. Rather than instantly risking another incident to further dampen already fragile psyche of the formerly well off and presently obnoxious electronics warfare expert, Scattershot paced back from the team and allowed his own feelings to finally subside.

"Was sort of the point." He looked back at the cadre of Autobots and furrowed his optical visor. As he pondered what Pointblank had revealed, Scattershot thought back to the events in the brig of the Semper Tyrannis. At the time he had found the entire assumption of Brainstorm, the Farstar's former chief scientist, had been something out of a fanciful holographic novel from the likes of Rook or Spades from the Outer Rim Colonies. A specific feature in cybertronian biology that enabled the construction of a grotesque amalgam. Lore created from reality, the resurrection of Monstructor, expanded into fanciful tales. Orcara the combined form of five Cybertronian Knights who would band together to destroy the evils of the mysterious lost tribes of the Liege Maximo.

It was a story, one that Scattershot found rather insulting. But in that cell, he had become somewhat convinced that Brainstorm had somehow become enamored with the romanticism of those tall tales. If the Decepticons were looking for that special feature, that one in a billion mutation... But the fact also remained that the spheres themselves were not standard issue. Modified, almost as if they were searching for something as rare as that...

Scattershot did not wish to believe it. In defied even the most conservative logic that anyone in their right processor would want to bring forth yet another unstable mass of raw emotion with incalculable power... he stopped himself there. No, it made perfect sense given who was currently in charge of the situation.

"Maybe that is exactly what we want to do. Garner some attention by those things." He rubbed his chin briefly. "If we could get someone to 'accidentally' trigger one of those probes, maybe we can get..." He kept his voice low and constrained as he worked out the details... details that were immediately shattered when Pointblank broke the news regarding Afterburner.

Scattershot spun on his heel and allowed his optical visor to flare blue. "Afterburner." Was the only word he spoke as he watched the sedated Technobot was pulled onto a recessed lift out of the prying visual range of the Sushicon commander and team. He stepped forward, allowing the head of his titanium ax to drag ever so briefly. As the trio of figures disappeared beyond the bedrock, Scattershot released the grip he held on the handle of his pick and allowed it to drop to the floor.

As it settled and dust began to coat it in a fine blanket, deep warped curves and valleys appeared where his fingers squeezed the metal into its new form. Afterburner was gone from visual sensors, but Scattershot could still register him on the subspace link... at least that he was still functional. He could also tell that the malcontent and general thorn in his aft plates was currently in the middle of a brief reboot.

Almost immediately Scattershot a data packet to Lightspeed, Nosecone and Strafe. It was small in size, segmented to their initial orders but added the addendum. 'Afterburner was taken. Afterburner is now key.'

Once the packet was transmitted to the rest of the conscious members of the team, Scattershot shrugged off the on coming stares from Highbrow and the others. He turned with a snarl that almost spoke volumes of his outward rage. He took a simulated breath and allowed the snarl to dissolve into a trademarked smirk. Rather than giving a response, Scattershot pushed himself closer to the others. "I am all to aware of the injuries caused to Lightspeed and Brainstorm. Above anyone here, I am also aware of the bigger pictures that are at play here."

The Technobot Commander was now only a half meter from the others, gathering them only in passing. "As it stands we are about as informed as a protoform picking the Iacon Grand Prix. In order to alleviate that little problem, we have to get out of the mines to accomplish that... or at least take differing routes in." He slapped a firm hand down upon Highbrow's shoulder. "Afterburner just volunteered for the job."

Garrus 9 – Central – Med Bay

“Alright, up an’ at ‘im.” The vehicon tattooed in medical symbols and a red and white color scheme spoke up as he set his tools down on his work table. He reached for a fibered-cloth to wipe away the grease and spent Energon that coated his actuators. As he spoke, Brainstorm’s optical sensors flickered back to life. His white-plated processor rose from his headrest to gaze upon the Decepticon’s bodily repairs. His new legs felt… Cold… They there were in front of his eyes and yet how distant he felt to his own anatomy. He made a note to fix this error in the back of his mind, the first of several projects he was planning to construct following the liberation he dreamt of from his Decepticon captors.

The restraints holding the biomechanical engineer to his slab quickly unlatched, but before the teal and white Autobot could react he was forcefully apprehended by the Sweeps who have been standing guard since his arrival.

“About time!” the one on Brainstorm’s left grunted as he grabbed hold of the back of the Autobot scientist’s collar and pulled him from the medical berth, “Furrow, grab the Technobot and let’s go.”

-

Brainstorm’s processor was a mess. The liquid ounce of circuit speeders the medical Decepticon administered to take care of his processor ache hadn’t kicked in yet. He hardly remembered leaving the Medical ward moments ago and now he was walking down a dim corridor, a sweep’s gun pressed to his back.

-

Garrus 9 – Mines

“GAH!” Brainstorm violently scoffed as his optical sensors shot open with a whole new vigor. He looked around the insecticon-infested mines with a sense of awe and uncertainty as his reality began to catch up with him. He gazed down to his quivering actuators and watched as each individual digit twitched randomly.

“Circuit Speeders…” Brainstorm murmured to himself shortly before he met the butt of the Sweep’s laser rifle.

“Hey! Quick yer yammering and keep moving!” The Scourge-like drone barked as he prodded the scientist with his gun barrel. Brainstorm shook off the pain, and continued marching deeper into the mines. His new leg servos seemed to be holding up well against the uneven terrain. To him it felt like he was floating on air, and not in a good way. His disconnection from his new legs was still a sensation he would have to get accustomed to while he was spent his time down here. Luckily he now a lot of time to get familiar with it.

“Did they drug you up to there, Lightspeed?” Brainstorm finally asked the Technobot as he spoke up for the first time since the med bay. “Don’t think I’ve had a circuit speeder in me since the Golden Age, during one of the marches against the Senate. Do you remember those? “Equal rights for knock-offs!” We cheered! Later some labor class mechs were passing around some really good Energon, and as you could guess whenever there’s a party, someone always tries to spike the punch.”

The two sweeps halted in their tracks and handed the freshly repaired Autobots simple mining tools. The one designated as Furrow then pointed his clawed actuator down one of the tunnels as a scowled expression serrated his bristly faceplate.

“You’ll find the rest of your cohorts down there. Get to work.”

Brainstorm wasted no time in making his way into the tunnel, the longer he lingered about the more he feared he would be struck again by the Sweep’s weapon. The Biomechanical engineer surely didn’t wish for that upon himself, he was a scientist, not some punching bag the Decepticons could kick around.

“Dammit.” Brainstorm muttered as he tried traversing the uneven ground beneath. His hand rested against the rocky structure around him as he used it to hold himself up. The biomechanical engineer’s usual habit was a laboratory or the inside of a Starship. It had been ages since he’s had to work in the field like this. Soon there was a distance noise that softly echoed throughout the mine. Brainstorm could not decipher what it was exactly, but it sounded familiar… sounded like… chattering.

“TWO COMING DOWN!” The sweep barked from the entrance Brainstorm had entered from. The teal and white Autobot peered back up to find the two sweeps now walking away from the entrance of this particular part of the mine. He continued trekking down into the tunnel until…

*KREEK KRAK*

A loose piece of rubble crumbled beneath the weight of Brainstorm’s boot, sending the Autobot biomechanical engineer falling faceplate first into the dirt. Upon connecting with the ground, the momentum of his fall caused him to tumble over himself. Soon the scientist found himself unable to stop himself from rolling into the mine. He grunted in pain as he tried to grab hold of something, anything he could to stop himself.

His rolling chassis soon found peace when his path was now blocked by the mine’s wall of solid mineral. Brainstorm moaned in pain as he stumbled to rise to his feet only to meet optics with his fellow Autobots down in the now Decepticon occupied mines. Pointblank, Scattershot, Highbrow, Roadbuster… They all just witnessed that.

“Hehe.” Brainstorm nervously chuckled. “Just, breaking in the new legs, hehe…”

Talk about a grand entrance for the ages... You are never going to live this one down.

Garrus 9 – Central Wing – Medical Bay

"Just because I am an Autobot does not mean I am a fool." He said calmly. "If you did study sparks then you know just how rare Estiriol Negatives sparks are. To have one mechanoid with such a spark in front of me is extremely unlikely. To have two is impossible."

Jumpstart sighed.

"Now, are you sure you do not want to share what your relation is before we start?"

Garrus-9--Outside

Vroom slowed down as he heard something approaching. The sound of the engine was too slow to be a Sweep but better to be safe than sorry. He moved what he was carrying into a defensible position and transformed. He saw Wheelie come towards him.

Definitely not a Decepticon.

"This planet? Wierd question to ask. This is Garrus-9, prison planet extraordinaire. So who re you and how did you get here?"

Garrus 9: Amphitheater

Silence. All that registered in the black void of slumber was the aw inspiring magnificence of pure unadulterated, unperturbed and nearly endless abyss that stretched as far as the optical sensor could record. It was peace personified. Nothing could penetrate the expanse, no more pressures of being relied upon. No more would the universe be able to thrust its unwanted and frankly unnecessary tendrils into the machinations of the lone wandering spark that now traversed this tranquil existence.

Afterburner's essence slowly took shape on the astral plain. At first he could only make out his fingers at the end of what he knew to be his extended arm. As the digits began to condense, he began to flex them in and out of a tight fist. No sound came from the joints as he finally closed them for the final time, carefully observing their shaking as raw emotion began to return to his core. Next to take shape on the plain was his torso. He drew the balled fist into his chest. At first he felt no pain, no impact, nothing to register that the contact had ever been made. But as the rest of his consciousness reasserted itself, he began to tumble as his right fist drove deep into his gut component.

Finally the reboot had taken root. Afterburner was functional again... albeit still disoriented and perturbed. He called out to the abyss... nothing returned to him. He called out again as he stomped in an ever brewing rage. Nothing came to him from the expanse. For a third time Afterburner yelled to the silence demanding it to stand aside and release him from the tranquility thrust upon him. The universe exploded into a world of static and grainy imagery. His astral projected form detonated into a million directions.

Afterburner released a slow groan as a new wave of nausea and sharp ache pounded at his meta processor. It was a familiar effect, one he had hoped one day he would never have to endure again... being stunned by the power of a Null Ray Rifle. The ionized particles had surged through his electrical systems and forced every piece of his being into a near total reboot. Thankfully, like most members of his specialized team, he was insulated to avoid the critical damage that usually accompanied such an incident.

The Technobot gunner slowly shook his head and forced his optics into focus. Images began to clear and through a large wide arch... bodies. Afterburner shuddered and attempted to raise his arms to defend himself. He pulled them again and again, but they were restrained. Magnetic locks held them firmly to his sides.

"Oh this is just fracking great," he spat as he turned his head from one side to another. "I signed up for the exercise and fitness program and instead I get stuck in the party with the psychos, mass murdering lunatics and some gold narcissist." Afterburner took in a slow simulated breath and let it escape between his lip components. "I need a new travel agent."

He turned his head to the left, now fully conscious and properly recording all he spotted for memories sake. He did not know why he had been stunned, initially suspected that it was some way for the seeker freaks to get their kicks. But upon awakening restrained, Afterburner rejected that hypothesis for something darker. And the shadow in the corner of the surgical amphitheater slowly began to fill in the blanks. "HEY YOU!!!, YEAH YOU..." Afterburner called out. "The decayed and desiccated husk of a Cybertronian. Before you summon those 'Ancient Spirits of Unicron,' wanna tell me why the scrap I am being held here with the rest of these anti social scraplets!"

Garrus-9 – Central Wing – Medical Bay

"Just because I am an Autobot does not mean I am a fool. If you did study sparks then you know just how rare Estiriol Negatives sparks are. To have one mechanoid with such a spark in front of me is extremely unlikely. To have two is impossible. Now, are you sure you do not want to share what your relation is before we start?"

Firewire eyed Jumpstart with an especially baleful glare. The suspense was absolutely going to kill her. And how dare he insult her intelligence! “Why, for the love of Primus, would I not share such information if I thought it would help?” Firewire gritted out, her petite frame still tensed for the oncoming pain.

“It isn't impossible. Astronomical odds merely conspire against it in every way imaginable. But the fact remains that we are not spark siblings. What would it matter anyway? Let's hurry up and get it over with! Agh, you're killing me here!”


Aequitas Chamber

>>”Maim it Blot. Crrrrush its limbs and joints... and it will have no choice."<<

Blot sauntered over to those of the Legislators that remained functional yet did not posses the capacity of flight. The monstrous Terrorcon was upon them. Smashing joints. Crippling. Maiming. Those that tried to crawl away were only handicapped further by one swift destructive gist to their joints. Once a sizable amount had been crippled, Blot dragged them back to the pile of Legislator corpses and threw them on top of the stack with his immeasurable strength.

Looking at the assembled pile of golden bodies approvingly, Blot set about fashioning a sled for them. He did this by ripping up a section of the flooring. The Terrorcon then set about transferring the pile of broken Legislators onto it. It was then that Rippersnapper approached he and Sinnertwin. The monster eyed Rippersnapper suspiciously as he loaded the master's feast.

Well, that sucks. No more live food. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m pretty much full. Probably should report back to Hun-grrr and let him know what happened."

"So full. So happy. Can't....move. Don't want to."

“I'll go,” Blot grunted as he tossed the last Legislator onto the pile, “I have to bring the master his food anyway.” Grabbing the floor panel that he was using as a sled, Blot began to drag the pile of bodies away.

The Terrorcon heard the distinctive crackle of a space bridge portal and heard Scorponok bellow with a rarely provoked anger. Blot turned to regard Scorponok, standing with some degree of respect for a moment before beginning the tedious process of carrying the stack of Legislators up to the main levels of the prison. He had to go to his true master after all.

Garrus-9--The Aequitas Chamber

Having dutifully followed after the Lord High Commander of the 2nd Expansion Fleet, Reflector could scarcely have prepared himself for what awaited him when he and his master arrived within the halls of the vaunted Aequitas Chamber. All around, carnage. Just as he had seen, via his other component, throughout the other halls and corridors of the penitentiary. Here, however, it looked as if massive plasma cannons had unleashed their entire payload on the surrounding walls and ceiling. A battle worthy of titans.

The mangled remains of Overlord had not escaped Reflector's notice either. My, to have been a drone on the wall when this little melee went down. He would've loved to have recorded it firsthand.

When Scorponok's angered roar echoed out through the chamber, Reflector was immediately pulled away from his musings. Turmoil had found himself relegated to the outer fringes of the fleet's operating theater. Perhaps Cyclonus soon would also. What a shame that would be. Shame shame shame. When all was said and done, it would perhaps be Reflector who stood as Lord Scorponok's most trusted confidante.

He could only hope.
___

“What does your age and wisdom make of that?" the prisoner, Counterpunch, had asked in the midst of the onslaught. Now that the situation was significantly more under control, he could perhaps provide an answer.

"I believe we have awakened something that could very well end us all, should the Guardian choose to adopt anything other than the passive role he has played in the past," Cyclonus said, knowing full well that Omega Supreme could be every bit as much a game changer as Scorponok hoped the gestalts would be.

But no, that was it, wasn't it? It would no longer be simply Jhiaxus' single abomination--Monstructor. It would be an army of them. A new breed of superwarrior to deploy on the battlefield and end this forsaken war once and for all. Yes, that was it. Even the revival of the mighty Omega Supreme would not shake his faith that the Decepticons would ultimately prevail in this struggle.

The purple warrior had barely crossed the threshold of the massive door leading into the chamber when the telltale flash of an orbital bounce suddenly took place. He had intended to come to Scorponok. Scorponok, clearly, had different intentions. Cyclonus stepped solemnly through the grouping of Decepticons and made his way steadily toward his commander.

“CYCLONUS!" Scorponok bellowed, his name echoing throughout the vast hall. "This. Explain this. NOW!"

When Cyclonus was only a few meters away, he came to measured halt. They had ripped through the Steelhaven, the defense turrets, Fortress Maximus and every other hardwired defender of this prison. But it was here that the Decepticon war machine had finally displayed more than a simple chink in its armor and Omega Supreme had avoided their best efforts to subdue him. That it hadn't even been close gnawed at the edges of Cyclonus' mind. The great Guardian was undoubtedly a mighty foe to be reckoned with.

"The exploratory force--Cipher and his crew--somehow activated defense systems that none of us were aware existed. Remnants of Tyrest's days as chief magistrate. Moreover, the presence of Omega Supreme....I...no one has seen or heard of his whereabouts in so long that he had become a myth. We were...ill-equipped to do anything other than serve as minor annoyances to the Guardian while he made his escape. Even our best," Cyclonus said, indicating the mauled and battered form of Overlord, "failed to stall the Guardian's progress."

It was difficult to maintain Lord Scorponok's gaze at this juncture. Only his inner discipline allowed him to do so.

"When the Guardian made good his exit, the Legislators broke off combat operations and fled also. I am...unaware...if there are any links between the two events."

Garrus – 9 – Mines

"Lowball..." Whirl began, almost sounding weak and defeated in tone, "That...That was probably the nicest thing you've ever called me!"

Stunned by Whirl’s tone, Lowball relaxed his grip slightly and sat up a little straighter. The weakened sound of the former Wrecker’s voice was something Lowball hadn’t heard before. Had he really done that much damage?

His unsure thoughts were soon dashed when he felt his body being shoved away.

Lowball landed on his aft with a hard thud. He watched with a furrowed brow and gritted teeth as Whirl rolled over and rose up onto his feet. Not wanting to remain in such a vulnerable position, the guard quickly scooted himself back slightly and stared up and into the lone optic of the blue copter.

"Since when did you become so enthralled in everyone else's well being there, Lowball?"

Lowball was about to fire back a retort when the taller mech stepped in close and leaned down and wrapped his pincer-hand around the back of his neck. The guard froze, his optics trained on Whirl’s face.

"Everyone else knew the risks going in there. Here, it's 'kill of be killed'. Not my fault they didn't have the brawn to keep up with your's truly, here."

Lowball began to struggle against Whirl’s grip but remained careful not to push or pull too hard.

“Let go of me you psychotic gearstick,” he snarled lowly. “The only reason we followed you was because of your rank. But you didn’t care because we were all expendable.” He tried once more to free himself. “You’re more ‘Con than Megatron himself.”

He was ready to continue, to lay into the ex-Wrecker some more when the two guards who had been watching came over to the both of them.

“Okay you slagheads. That was fun to watch but it’s over now,” one of them said. His partner raised his weapon and pressed it hard into the back of Whirl’s head. “Back off nice and easy, you worthless piece of scrap.”

Garrus -9 – Central Wing – Medical Bay

Kronus’ boisterous laughter quieted down to a mere chuckle as he looked over at Firewire, who was putting on a rather entertaining show. Pouting and all that. Slag could he get her goat. He let out another chuckle, this one slightly louder than before.

“You better pray to Primus or Solus or whoever your god is that you do not end up on my table one day," she ground out fiercely, “You won't like me fiddling with your spark."

Kronus raised his arms slightly and feigned a shiver of fear. He smiled broadly at the little femme before he leaned against a cabinet and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Who knows, short-round, I might like it if you played with my spark.” He gave her a crooked grin before quieting down completely. Instead of making a nuisance of himself, Kronus went to work mentally cataloguing the contents of the room. He had already pocketed a few of the smaller devices, but it was the larger ones that caught his interest.

Garrus – 9 – Aequitas Chamber

Cipher had come around for another pass firing off his last Hellfire missile effectively obliterating one of the remaining Legislators and saving another one of their own number. Of course that poor soul didn’t last long afterwards. Que sera sera.

Without any more firepower it was time the cryptologist took to the ground and found some cover. He landed deftly and quickly made it to safety before he was spotted.

Looking to the ceiling and the hole created by the behemoth Omega Supreme, Cipher cursed his former friend to the Pit. Of course Rung would not get away so easy. That thought brought a wicked grin to Cipher’s face.

Along with Omega Supreme the Legislators began to make their retreat. Good.

Now that the room was clear of any more threats, Cipher emerged from his safety zone and slowly made his way toward the center of the room. There he saw the simian Horrorcon transform and land amongst a pile of bodies. The sight brought a slight shiver to his frame. Disgusting, he thought. Referring to not just the bodies but the Horrorcon as well.

It was at that moment that he noticed the bright tell-tale sign of a portal opening before the collection of the still living. Cipher took a small step back. High Commander Scorponok. This did not bode well.

The Cryptologist watched as the gargantuan form of the Decepticon emerged through the portal.
Once fully within the chamber Scorponok bellowed one name….

“CYCLONUS!"

The sound of the Commander’s booming voice made Cipher cringe and quiver. How he hated to be the Commander’s second right at that moment. He lowered his optics to the ground and smirked.

“This. Explain this. NOW!"

Oh this did not bode well for Cyclonus.

He waited and took a quick peek to see the purple ‘Con step forward stopping before their Commander. It didn’t take long before an explanation was provided the irate High Commander.

"The exploratory force--Cipher and his crew--somehow activated defense systems that none of us were aware existed. Remnants of Tyrest's days as chief magistrate. Moreover, the presence of Omega Supreme....I...no one has seen or heard of his whereabouts in so long that he had become a myth. We were...ill-equipped to do anything other than serve as minor annoyances to the Guardian while he made his escape. Even our best," Cyclonus said, indicating the mauled and battered form of Overlord, "failed to stall the Guardian's progress."

Cipher’s head rose quickly as he stared hard at Cyclonus’ back. How dare he put blame on him and his crew. He had nothing to do with the so-called security system. That had been all Rung’s doing. Ugh! Rung. Again that piece of scrap had found a way to ruin his life.

Cipher ground his teeth. But the psychiatrist would not get away. No. He knew just how to find him.

Garrus – 9 – Aequitas Chamber

The battle was all to brief the chance to fully cut loose was a rare and relished thing for Bludgeon there was no honour in fighting automations. The blue and yellow new comer was stood nearby Cyclonus was moving past his calm veneer had been calmed by the smoking ruin of the Phase six'er Overlord which the new comer stepped over without any ceremony. Cyclonus was heading for the command centre Bludgeon nodded in agreement to this as he mentioned the clean up of Overlords remains

Another new mech decided to interject him into the conversation blithely without pausing in his step he swung his sword around and pointed it at the ruins of Overlord before addressing Spinster. "How about ......" Bludgeon's address was interrupted by a portal opening which announced the arrival of the most important decepticon in this sector of the galaxy Scorponok.

"CYCLONUS"

From the sound of the voice it was clear that Cyclonus was in for either a beating or a commendation for preserving his battle force.

"Explain this NOW"

Cyclonus's explanation would have to be good or he'd end up joining Overlord in the medical bay in either as bad shape or worse. Bludgeon immediately showed obedience to the commander of this sector of space lowering his gaze and placing his sword tip down into the ground adding a "My Liege" for good measure. As he listened to Cyclonus the purple and silver war machine was explaining the circumstances for Omega Supreme's appearance.

Memories of Titan hunting from before his imprisonment flooded back to the fore but he suppressed these thoughts as the titans where long gone and Scorponok would have more pressing matters for them to attend to.

Thou first would be his reaction to Cyclonus's Explanation which might well amuse the Electric Warrior

_________________________________

Garrus 9 - mines

Shrapnel followed bombshell deeper into their burgeoning hive something was irritating the scheming insecticon.

When Bombshell finally halted Shrapnel skittered up onto the ceiling and waited for bombshell to start revealing his plans

Aequitas Chamber

Skorponoks' demand had shaken everyone to silence and none, not Bludgeon, not Spinister, not one Decepticon with him appeared able or willing to offer an explanation to aid Cyclonus.

Counterpunch however knew very well what happened. The question was, exactly how much could he afford to let them know? He had already saved the life of one of the Decepticons most feared killing machines, fought shoulder to shoulder with another legendary evil, and now he stood poised to offer his expertise to his target. His inner voice, the Autobot counterpart to his Counterpunch persona, had snapped to attention at the giant green warlords appearance and begun to think more rationally. He had been extensively briefed on Aequitas in case it was ever used on him, now ge had to determine how to use it to get the best advantage.

"Cyclonus. Cyclonus is the key to all of this. Gain the full trust of the lieutenant and let him do the work for you!" Punch gave his advice urgently, as time was short. The darker side of him snarled, but inwardly grinned. At long last, a plan both halves of him agreed upon.

Even for one as fearless as he, it still took some mighty bearings but Counterpunch shoved Spinister aside and stepped to stand directly beside the horned warriors shoulder and before Skorponok, giving implied support of his new commander as he tried to find an explanation. The titanic shadow dwarfed both of them with extra darkness to spare, but Counterpunch was solid as rock, the importance of his mission always came before fear.

He awaited his moment. Decepticon etiquette was a difficult beast, timing was imperative, and he allowed a few beats after Cyclonus had finished before he interjected carefully on behalf of the ancient warrior, keeping the arrogance in his voice subtle and remaining respectful to one who could crush him with a claw like a vice crushes an egg. "My Lord, these Legislators were the puppets of Tyrest. The assault on the Aequitas, itself a breach of the 'Tyrest Accord' triggered their arrival, likely summoned by Aequitas itself when it was disturbed by the advance party, so was always doomed to failure. Their sudden departure, code 15(30)3, would be to ensure Omega Supreme cannot deliver it to a non-Cybertronian race. Or protect him. Or possibly even a speeding violation, who knows?
"Regardless, this failure was on those who supplied the intelligence on Aequitas. Not, as you can see from the extensive wreckage, the warriors."

He paused for a second to allow those in the room to absorb this knowledge. Most Autobots were aware of the basic structure of the codes, but Punch had to make sure he knew them all. Even in his line of work there had to be rules.
Whether Counterpunch obeyed them or not was another matter.

He pre-empted the follow up question "My name is Counterpunch, and I am a loyal servant of the Decepticon cause." he announced. He showed no fear facing up to a gargantuan commander such as Skorponok, and turned to survey the entourage he has brought with him. "It would appear you may have need of my skills, my Liege."

And the play was made. For once his alter ego was silent. Now he just awaited his fate at the hands of what was potentially the most dangerous Decepticon since Megatron himself.

Outside the Hole to Aequitas

The space battle had been little more than a slaughter Omega Supreme had gone toe to toe with the Flagship then up and vanished like a gas emission in the wind. The golden legislators had flooded out of the hole with Apeface and himself in hot pursuit as well as the airborne units that were stationed aboard the fleet. Then like lights being switched off they hit transwarp vanishing into the depths of the universe heading for parts unknown.

"Well that's just amazing the one good fight to be had and they up and run for it" Snapdragon's temper was grumbling bordering on raging. The chance to exorcise his rage taken from him, anger seethed from the space fighter as he banked hard kicking power to his thrusters he dived back into the hole created by Omega Supreme.

A crowd of decepticons where stood around, a smouldering wreck was next to Cyclonus, bludgeon Spinster and a new comer. Coming in low he initiated his transformation sequence moving from his get mode to his dinosaur mode he landed and slid to a halt his claws leaving imprints in the ground where he used them for braking traction. Stomping forward he barged his way through the decepticons to reach his cohort Apeface.

"looks like we received a fair few casualties who got the smelted treatment over by Cyclonus and company?"


By the time Snapdragon had finished talking an aperture had appeared in the vicinity a hulking presence moved within before the vision of might stepped through Scorponok.

Snapdragon transformed into his robot mode his chest stuck out it was probably one of the few times he wouldn't be slovenly this was the boss it did well to behave. Mind you from voice scorponok was using he was not impressed. Snapdragon listened to the explanations that where coming forth the newcomer Counterpunch was particularly well informed thou Cipher was beginning to catch his eye. The smaller decepticon was seething and rightfully so it was him who allowed Rung access to the panel directly the Horrorcon lent into Apeface's audio receptor and whispered

"Ciphers gonna blow a couple of relays"

Garrus-9--Mines

"What?!" Highbrow had exclaimed. Pointblank looked over at him.

"What? What 'what'?" he asked, genuinely perplexed by whatever had caused Highbrow's sudden confusion. He'd been scanned-the thing moved on. It seemed pretty straightforward to him. But, of course, he wasn't a scientist either.

He just watched, helpless, as Afterburner had been unceremoniously dragged away, and another churning ember was added to the furnace of Pointblank's hatred for the Decepticons. To the volatile Technobot's credit, he was actually taking the situation in stride. Much better than Pointblank thought he would even. At least from all outward appearances. And when it came to Scattershot, outward appearances were a big ol' chunk of it.

They might well come out of this alive after all.
___

“GAH!" Brainstorm had shouted as they were marched steadily into their new destination by their captors. The Technobot wondered for a moment what had caused the outburst, but it was quickly apparent: their captors. It inevitably found its way back to the Decepticons.

“Circuit Speeders…" Brainstorm continued half-heartedly. That, at least, caught Lightspeed's attention. Circuit speeders? He hadn't been given circuit speeders. But Brainstorm clearly had been. He wondered why...

“Did they drug you up to there, Lightspeed? Don’t think I’ve had a circuit speeder in me since the Golden Age, during one of the marches against the Senate. Do you remember those? 'Equal rights for knock-offs!' We cheered! Later some labor class mechs were passing around some really good Energon, and as you could guess whenever there’s a party, someone always tries to spike the punch."

"They....did not," Lightspeed began. "And now I'm left to puzzle over why."

Now, of course, was hardly the ideal time to puzzle over anything. If they could just get a break from having one Decepticon or another constantly over their shoulder...

Brainstorm's reminiscing actually served to kickstart some of the Technobot's memories as well. He did indeed remember those rallies, not that he would have been one to benefit in any special way. As a member of the scientific class, he had most of the privileges a Cybertronian in such a caste system could want.

"Too right," Lightspeed nodded solemnly. "Nothing good lasts forever. Nothing gold can stay."

“You’ll find the rest of your cohorts down there. Get to work," one of the Sweeps hissed. Lightspeed looked down the tunnel, as did Brainstorm. His scientific cohort clearly did not need any additional prodding: he was soon gone. Lightspeed quickly picked up his own pace in order to keep up, he was none too keen to linger behind with any of Scourge's brood.

He was quickly catching up until he saw Brainstorm trip over something, quickly tumbling end over end and closing the distance between them and the remainder of their Autobot allies. The terrain was just a tad treacherous, to say the least.

"Oh lord..." Lightspeed sighed good-naturedly as he moved to help Brainstorm up before looking to meet optics with the others, his commander Scattershot in particular. "Well, we're back. And not especially worse for wear. I just wonder-"

Then something struck him.

"-wait, was that Afterburner I saw getting dragged out of here just a moment ago? What in the world has been going on down here?"
___

Garrus-9--Exterior

"This planet? Weird question to ask. This is Garrus-9, prison planet extraordinaire. So who're you and how did you get here?"

Wheelie was pleased to see that the Cybertronian in question apparently intended to do him no harm. He did not recognize the answer to his question, but it was an answer. It was something to go off of.

"My name's Wheelie. I was in a far away land. The Decepticons kidnapped me, but I'll go back there if I can. The big bug and his friends tried to convert me, but I only played along so they wouldn't hurt me."

Outside the Amphitheater

Bomb Burst watched the leg of the diaclone twitch in the shadows he was currently occupying outside the amphitheater. He made a noise that almost sounded like a sigh as he was regretting releasing the team of assassins to their own devices. But a room full of bored assassins usually ended badly, out patrolling for Autobot stragglers was a far more efficient use of their time, even if it was a more efficient situation for him to have them all together.

Bugs... apparently took awhile to filter out reflex actions. He had long since drained the energon out of the thing and it was still twitching. Fascinating things, though entirely unsatisfying as a meal.
The Decepticon Hunter moved himself on, never one to stay in one place, as was habit of those who relied on stealth.

He found his way to the hole that opened into the Aequetas Chamber, knowing well that the battle had just finished down there, he hoped to find a little something of interest below. At least he could smell the scent of spilt energon. He lept off the edge of the hole, allowing himself to drop into the depth before transforming into his hover jet alt mode, nearly silent, he controlled his descent into the Aequetas Chamber.

In the Aeqetas Chamber

What he found below was enough to pique his interest in one manner, though not the manner he cared for. He hovered above the impressive amount of 'A list' Decepticons. He had not been listening into any radio chatter, so he didn't know they were all right there. He figured they'd have moved on by now.

He transformed back to robot mode, dropping the rest of the way as he was halfway between the ceiling and the floor, landing down on one knee in a respectful bow, head down, weapons stowed, showing proper amounts of servitude to the Decepticon leaders, a respectful distance from them as not to be too bold to be too close. The honorable Bludgeon, who could technically be called his commanding officer, though Bomb Burst was usually left to work alone; the merciless Cyclonus, he couldn't help but respect the cold, calculating warrior; and the biggest name this side of the galaxy, Scorponok. Well, if that wasn't the most fearsome list of names, short of having Megaton on it as well.

The list of respectful titles in his greeting could go on for Vorns, but in interest of his preference of being a mech of few words, he kept it short. He'd have not said anything if it weren't for the utter disrespect of coming into the presence of one's superiors and not show proper deference. "My Lords..." he addressed them. "My deepest apologies for the interruption." He kept his head down but made mental note of the others there as well.

No matter how hard he tried to resist it, he couldn't help himself, the energon soaked visages around him, the death in the air; it tugged at his spark in such savage ways that none other in the room could even comprehend. Unconsciously he put the tip of his actuator in his mouth, chewing on it; rather viciously, honestly. It was a coping method he'd often employ in situations like this, though he was rarely aware he was until it was pointed out to him. The Cybertronian Vampire was hungry; the bug topside was not enough to satisfy the thirst as by his nature he was rather inefficient with his fuel, and he found snacking without the hunt unfilling. The smells and sights of the, however brief, battle with the legislators coupled with the surrounding victi-Decepticons... Decepticons... not victims. But the surroundings were threatening to overcome his control.

He could not let the beast inside of him unleash itself. Not right now, he'd never survive the wrath of his superiors if he attacked anyone right now. He ticked off the names again in his head, with names, they were superiors, not meals, though the others present didn't get that luxury since he had no clue who they were.