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The Nemesis--Ducts

Roulette heard a sound echo through the ducts. It sounded like something fell. She shrugged and moved into that direction, not seeing any better options.

The Nemesis--Secure Storage

Alright, well, it was a little more than happenstance that had guided Elita-1 back to this specific chamber, so she wasn't going to waste the opportunity.

Leaning up against a nearby wall, she pulled out the datafile and mission briefing that Prowl had sent them via his usual top-secret encryptions. After all of the bureaucratic rigamarole that accompanied anything associated with Prowl, Elita's optics were drawn to a specific section of the briefing that she hadn't paid especially close attention to before.

.....if the unit can not be successfully transported to the primary Autobot vessel whole, authorization if hereby given to activate unit aboard the Nemesis....

Well, that was all fine and dandy. How was she supposed to-

.....attach the datacube to the exterior control panel.....

Elita looked over at the obsidian-colored containment obelisk. What exterior control panel? She and the others had been all over this thing when they'd been in here before? It looked solid.

The femme's optics narrowed slightly as she held out the datacube.....

....nothing.

Sigh.

Elita walked around the obelisk, still holding the cube. Once she reached the westernmost edge, the cube began to vibrate in her hand. The obelisk began to vibrate softly as well. After a few microseconds, a panel slid away, revealing what appeared to be your standard control panel.

Prowl. Primus help me.

As the panel flickered to life, Elita attached the cube. Once she did, the screen began to flow with hundreds and then thousands of Cybertronian symbols, scrolling endlessly. Various seals on the surface of the obelisk began to crack and slide away.

The thing, whatever it was, was opening.

The Nemesis - Secure Storage

Roulette could see a light coming from the floor of the duct she was in. She moved carefully, not knowing what was there. She slowly poked her head out to see Elita and... something. She had no idea what. She pull her head back and spoke out.

"Hey 'Lita. It's me."

She said, waited a moment and then poked her head out again.

"What's going on?"

The Nemesis - Secure Storage

"Hey 'Lita. It's me."

Elita-1 whipped around, weapon in hand, its barrel glowing in the dimly-lit space. Only her considerable vorns of training kept her from firing wildly like a madmech. Then a familiar head poked through the shadows.

"What's going on?"

"Primus, Roulette. I could've blown your head off," Elita sighed good-naturedly as she holstered her weapon back into her thigh compartment and turned her attention back to the obelisk that was steadily going through a transformation sequence all its own.

"I don't think it's any coincidence that we found our way back here. Obviously it's-"

But Elita paused in mid-thought as the transformation sequence of the obelisk completed, and there standing in apparent stasis was yet another Cybertronian femme. Only Elita did not even remotely recognize this one.

"-i-it's....wow....Cybertronian. A Cybertronian."

Elita took a couple of measured steps back.

"Why on earth would Prowl put all this effort into someone who's not even an Autobot? I don't recognize any of the symbolism. I don't recognize her. Do you?"

(OoC: It's good to be back.)

??? -- ??????

Windblade didn't know where she was. She didn't know where she came from. She simply floated in a very dark place, for a very long time. There was no air, no gravity, no light, no time as far as she could tell; all she knew was that she was alive, and that was what counted.

Everything she could remember was in a haze. It was as if she had simply forgotten it, but it was at the tips of her fingers, just out of sight. She could remember a booming voice in an odd tongue. She could remember a circle of politicians. She could remember flight.

Ah, yes! The flight! Windblade knew how she loved to fly and be amongst the clouds, not that there were any where she found herself at the moment. The sensation of wind whipping around her wings, the feeling of weightlessness as she spun in the air...

But she didn't know why, exactly, she loved this feeling. It was odd, like deja vu.

There was no pain, no anger, no sorrow, no happiness -- almost like death without an afterlife. If one could experience nothing at all, Windblade was sure that she was experiencing it. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't comfortable either. There were ten thousand contradictions floating about, but she hadn't the desire to contemplate them or anything else for that matter. It was as if she hadn't the motivation to think or act, or even consider doing anything other than float there, in the shadowy dimension of nothing.

All she did was float.

All she did was sleep.

All she did was exist.

And then came a voice.



Secure Storage -- Nemesis

"... I don't recognize her. Do you?"

These words echoed in audio receptors that had fallen out of the habit of listening out of disuse. The words burned in Windblade's head, scorching her sensitive, hammering mind as she slowly began to activate from many years of slumber. Her optics opened, the pale blue orbs shining as they achingly raised to look before her. Slowly, she seemed to take notice of several other women in the room with her -- all noticeably befuddled at the femme.

She teetered in place for a moment, gyros spinning to life after being deactivated. There was a feeling of vertigo as she stepped forward out of the black obelisk that housed her; one that nearly made her topple off to the side. Quickly regaining her balance with a stumble, she glanced around the room in a groggy manner. It wasn't familiar. Nothing was.

"H-Hh..." She cleared her throat as her voice transmitter came online, "... Hello?"

Her wings slacked as she soon found herself worry, the looks on the others in the room's faces was clear that something was amiss. Hopefully she wasn't maimed or perhaps did something wrong. Looking to what seemed to be the leader of the group, she gave a small, worried smile.

"I'm... I'm Windblade. At least, I think so, anyway."

Nemesis - Ducts

"Frag it." Nautica cursed under her breath as she tried to maneuver through the warship's ventilation system. She had lost Elita and Roulette a while back, must have taken a wrong turn or something... Or they did... the engineer's kibble was making it harder to traverse the duct than most would have, her wing struts bumping against the roof of the vents almost every foot she crawled. She almost wanted to apologize each time her wings bumped against the wall, but she was making enough noise as it is already.

Pausing in her trek, the violet and gold femme rested prone against the ducts and activated her holographic visor. She studied the map she was able to formulate but it seems she kept crawling around in circles up here. "Dammit Elita, where did you two disappear off to?" She asked to no one aloud as she tried scanning for her fellow Autobots transceiver signals. Wait... something was coming up now. Nautica tried to enhance the signal but was still being jammed by the looks of it. The faintest of signals was detectable ahead, maybe she just had to get closer to see... Letting out a huff of expelled air, the quantum engineer pressed on through the ventilation system.

Nemesis - The Resevoir

Oh this was rich. The Autobots have lost so much hope in this war that they dumped some of their remaining resources into chasing fairy tales across the cosmos. Skyquake couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle when he heard Thunderclash's utter his answer through broken words.

"The Knights of Cybertron..." Skyquake stated, his voice echoing the small room as he lifted his gun barrel away from the Turbomaster and a non-verbal signal given to his guards to re-restrain him back to his slab. "You Autobots and your silly fables."

The air commandant looked up from his advert gaze with Thunderclash and his map back towards Falcon and the others. "Take them back to the cells. Get the prep work for their executions done while I attempt to further make contact with the other fleets. Megatron himself would love to see our victory firsthand."

"Video feed will take a little more time to ensure a clear transmission across the galaxy..." Stalker interjected, "And we already sent word across the system-"

"Then I'd suggest you better make it happen sooner, rather than later." Skyquake quickly rebutted, ignoring the latter half of Stalker's input. "Unless you wish to join them."

Stalker only nodded in response before he further pressed Skyquake's patience. The Predator comm officer then showed himself out of the Reservoir before the Vehicons followed him out. Skyquake's optics shifted to jade-green slits as he further studied the holographic map before he and Thunderclash. Such nonsense. He thought before he shut off the display. The two Vehicons left to guard Thunderclash's restrained body began to orient the slab he fastened to to look forward towards the wall where Speedbump's energon still plastered the walls.

"Don't worry, I'll be sure the death of your crew will be quick and painless." The Predator commander taunted as he began to stroll out of the room. "And if you don't believe me, you'll be able to watch it all once we get the broadcasts up." With his final words spoken, the sky commandant took his leave and strolled back up towards the bridge.

Nemesis – Brig:

"Put, that away," the sub-commander grunted at Chromia as she pulled out the gem, "You know they most likely have someone watching us right now as we speak. Especially us Turbomasters."

Boss's red optics glared almost creepily at the two fembots for a few seconds, before he spoke again.

"By the way, I don't recognize you two. Obviously war-torn. Mischievous. You are part of Elita's team, right?"

Boss chuckled, "I have a sensation that this is not the first time you two have gotten yourselves in a situation such as this. In fact, it isn't the first time for me, or my fellows. However, this may be the messiest time in a while. The explosion; our team leader being tortured for information and maybe even put to death?" Boss' chuckle wasn't one of happiness. More one of him trying to keep himself under control. Something to pacify him while he waits for an opportunity.

Boss then grabbed at the busted mark on his head that was starting to kill him. The pain he felt could be starting to get to him, but he knew he couldn't show any sense of agony or anguish. It would ruin them. His- their team, needed support. He removed his hand and there was energon on it. He sighed. Being put to death was probably the easier way to escape.

"Who is still here?" Boss asked to any remaining Turbomasters in the brig, "I need a head count." He wanted to make sure he was remembering things straight.

Boss closed his optics and rubbed them with the hand partially covered in the energon that leaked from his head.

"No matter what happens to either Thunderclash or I, team, I want you all to press on. Don't go down without a fight. Show them when you've got. Look for opportunity. Don't give up."

Boss felt the energon slowly leaking out of his head and life starting to trickle away with it. He knew that if he wasn't executed soon, he might die soon from energon-loss.

Nemesis – The Reservoir

"The Knights of Cybertron..." Skyquake stated, his voice echoing the small room as he lifted his gun barrel away from the Turbomaster and a non-verbal signal given to his guards to re-restrain him back to his slab. "You Autobots and your silly fables."

Two Vehicons guided Thunderclash back onto the slab with little resistance from the Autobot commander, restraining him again with little effort then quickly backing away. Thunderclash merely stared down at the floor, his whole body betraying how defeated that he felt. How broken.

"Take them back to the cells. Get the prep work for their executions done while I attempt to further make contact with the other fleets. Megatron himself would love to see our victory firsthand."

Jerking his head up slightly, Thunderclash looked to Skyquake, a slowly dawning horror coming over him as the realization hit him. Falcon offered Skyquake a swift salute, nonverbally signaling the escort to move into formation around the remaining prisoners. He leaned in to Road Rage’s audio receptor.

“Take a good, long, last look. It’s the last time you’ll ever see your dear commander,” he taunted before prodding her along out of the torture chamber. The Vehicons around Thunderclash began to grab tubes, moving in to do something unspeakable to Thunderclash as the doors shut behind them.

Within the chamber, Thunderclash watched Skyquake as he strolled out, his words torturous. Willing himself with his last ounce of strength, Thunderclash showed none of the despair that he felt. None of the outrage. None of the fury or sorrow or hatred. None of the hope that he still clung to. None of it. His faceplate was a mask, hollow and empty like one who was already dead. As the doors slid shut behind Skyquake, Thunderclash stared forward at the remains of Speed Bump plastered all over the far wall.


Brig

"Put, that away," the sub-commander grunted at Chromia as she pulled out the gem, "You know they most likely have someone watching us right now as we speak. Especially us Turbomasters."

Chromia’s optics narrowed as she looked over to the other cell that Boss was occupying, clenching her fist around the red gem. They won’t notice if you don’t draw attention to it. Shaking her head, Chromia stood, walking over to the force field that imprisoned her within her cell.

"By the way, I don't recognize you two. Obviously war-torn. Mischievous. You are part of Elita's team, right?"

“’War-torn’? ‘Mischievous’? What are you talking about?” Chromia called out, planting a hand on her hip. “Yeah, we’re part of ‘Lita’s team. Or were, I should say. Slaggin’ Cons blew our ship up and everyone still on it. We’re what’s left.” Clenching her fists, Chromia looked away from Boss for a moment. Elita wasn’t gone. That was an act. But the others were. All of them. Gone. Oh, Skyquake was gonna pay for that. He was gonna pay.

Glancing up at Boss as he chattered away, Chromia noted a bit of energon leaking from his head. Must’ve been injured in the fighting…slaggit. She ought to go easy on him then. Probably wasn’t all there in the head right now. He called for a headcount. Something Chromia was sure he’d regret.

“We’re all here, Boss,” Scorch said from where he sat with his knees tucked up against his chestplate. “Well…except the big boss, Thunders…and all of the injured that we sent onto their ship…” He muttered, pointing to Chromia, “So I guess we’re not really all here…”

“One of the Predator took Road Rage, Speed Bump, and Accel away too,” Hurricane added, “They haven’t come back-“

Hurricane cut off as the doors to the brig hissed open, admitting Falcon, Road Rage, Accel and their escort of Vehicons. Opening an empty cell, the Vehicons ushered Road Rage and Accel into it before closing it him. A wicked glee was plastered all over Falcon’s faceplate.

“I’m afraid this is where we part for now, my dear. Be sure to tell all of your friends the news!” Waving cheerfully, Falcon and the Vehicon escort took their leave, Falcon making his way to the bridge. Chromia turned to look at the newly arrived Road Rage.

“What’s he mean? What news?”

Brig:

“We’re all here, Boss; well… except the big boss, Thunders… and all of the injured that we sent onto their ship…

Scorch was amazingly helpful right now. Boss knew he had to rely on his team more than he wanted to admit with his head injury. It was something he had to admit to the team somehow. But how?

Then the brig doors opened. In came some 'Cons with a couple more fembots. greaat. The 'Con spoke of "news" to be told. Boss could tell that this so called "news" was something they all would regret.

“What’s he mean? What news?”

"I pray to Primus that Thunderclash is alright," said Boss.

The enegon leaking out of Boss' head was starting to make him even more dizzy than before. At this point he was only holding on to his life. No, I can't show weakness.

Boss was fighting too hard. The energon leaked down his face. He couldn't stop it. It leaked down his whole body. He was covered in it. At least, that's what he thought. He was hallucinating. "This fragginnng leakinn-" Boss then collapsed on the floor. He was barely holding on to consciousness.

The Nemesis - Secure Storage

"You'd probably miss." Roulette said with a good-natured wink and dropped down from the ceiling as quietly as she could. She shook her head at Elita's question.

"No clue. At this point I would settle for her being friendly. Got enough slags trying to kill us as it is in this ship."

Roulette was on guard, this was a Decepticon ship so she had to be a 'Con right? Still seeing the groggy way she moved made her feel bad for her. She moved towards.

"Easy now... uhm, Windblade right?" She said in a reassuring tone as she went to help her get steady. She seemed a little out of it so helping her stay up seemed like a good idea.

"My name's Roulette, just trying to help you out. My friend over there is called Elita-One."

Secure Storage

Windblade had a headache, and for more reasons than one. Not only had she just woken from a sleep that had lasted for who-knows-how-long, but there was a slew of odd facts being thrown about. Someone was hunting the women before her? Trying to kill them? Ship? Just where did she wake up? Better yet, where did she go to sleep to warrant being awoken there?

With a stumble, she teetered as she strode forward to meet one of the two fembots in the storage with her. What did she say her name was again? Roulette? Deciding not to question it any further, the groggy fembot allowed Roulette's hand to keep her steady as the whole world seemed to shudder and swirl around her. It was as if she had a hangover, or, ironically, not enough rest.

"Oh... Thanks, then. Hullo, Elita-One." Windblade said with a thick accent, something approaching one of Earth's Asian dialects, "Sorry, but... You mentioned someone trying to kill you?"

She paused as she groggily placed a slender hand on her ornamental forehead, rubbing its burning, throbbing form. Windblade desperately tried remembering where she was before she went into stasis, and the circumstances thereof. Was she forced? Did she go on purpose? Where did she come from? Who was she? What did she do? Was she alone? Were there others? If so, where? Who? Why? When? How? The questions bubbled, frothed and churned like an upset stomach, rumbling around her brain.

"Also... Where are we? What's going on?" Windblade asked, desperate for answers. Hopefully they would shed at least some light on the subject.

Brig (Boss' mind):



Fraggin damn it! What is wrong?



Dammit. That's why my energon flow wouldn't stop. How much is lost?



I don't have any way to get an infusion right now! Will I survive without one?



Well then redirect the energon flow to the alternate artery. I need to live.



Hurry up dammit! I'm dying!



...It's not like I have a choice.

Nemesis – The Reservoir

"The Knights of Cybertron... You Autobots and your silly fables. Take them back to the cells. Get the prep work for their executions done while I attempt to further make contact with the other fleets. Megatron himself would love to see our victory firsthand.”

Road Rage let out a deep sigh of despair. She wanted to speak up and defend their search for the Knights of Cybertron. Hell, she wanted to defend the Knights, themselves. They weren’t just silly fables. They were real and they were out there somewhere waiting to be found. Of course, the crimson femme remained silent as neither she nor any of her comrades were in a position to defend anyone let alone the Knights of Cybertron.

"Don't worry, I'll be sure the death of your crew will be quick and painless. And if you don't believe me, you'll be able to watch it all once we get the broadcasts up."

Skyquake’s words stung her just as deeply as they had surely stung Thunderclash. Her commander would see her death. He would see all of their deaths unless someone came to their rescue. Where were those other Autobots Chromia had mentioned earlier? Had they been captured by now, as well, or where they still hiding somewhere on board the Nemesis. Road Rage would soon find out as she was about to be taken back to her holding cell.

“Take a good, long, last look. It’s the last time you’ll ever see your dear commander.”

Naturally, Falcon had to rub it in just a little bit deeper. Road Rage kept quiet, at least at first, turning around as the guerrilla specialist prodded her forward and out of the torture chamber. “I’m going!” The former bodyguard growled at her captor before spitting a glob of energon onto the floor in front of the vile Predator. It missed his feet, but she wasn’t really aiming for them anyway. She just wanted to vent a little, not get another beating. The injured femme continued onward, taking hold of the nearest wall to keep herself from toppling over.

Nemesis – Brig

A short time later, the doors to the Brig opened and Road Rage hobbled in. An empty cell was quickly opened as the Vehicon escorts ushered the crimson femme inside along with Accel. The former bodyguard turned and leaned back against the far wall of the cell, allowing herself to slide down into a seated position. Her right knee joint was throbbing, but at least there was now some comfort as the pressure had been completely taken off of it.

“I’m afraid this is where we part for now, my dear. Be sure to tell all of your friends the news!”

“Yeah, I’ll try not to get all teary eyed, Falcon, you bastard!!” Road Rage shouted back as the guerrilla tactician and the other Vehicons left the bridge. Good riddance to them all.

“What’s he mean? What news?”

Road Rage turned her attention over to Chromia, whose question would be a tough one to answer. “Well, there's no easy way to say this. We’re going to be executed. And, on top of that, it’s going to be broadcasted for all to see. Even Thunderclash will witness our deaths. Great, huh?” That last bit was dripping with sarcasm, but the crimson femme didn’t care. There was nothing she could do about their current situation. All she could do is wait for the inevitable, whatever that would ultimately be.

>>”If those friends of yours are still around, Chromia, now would be a good time for them to come and save our afts, don’t you think?”<< Road Rage then added over a secured, private comm line to the blue femme.

The Nemesis--Secure Storage

Now that they had managed to open the obelisk and "awaken" its contents, Elita-1's attention was already turning back to the wellbeing of her squad and how they were all going to get out of this monstrosity of a ship, since destroying from within was looking like less and less of an option.

If an opportunity presented itself, though...

"Oh... Thanks, then. Hullo, Elita-One. Sorry, but... You mentioned someone trying to kill you?"

She signaled for Roulette to get Windblade ready to move while she climbed back up to the hatch they had come through.

"Yes. Decepticons. Sycophantic psychos, for the most part. They pretty much try to kill anyone who wears one of these," she said, pointing absently to her Autobrand.

"Also... Where are we? What's going on?"

"You're in the belly of the Nemesis, the Decepticons' flagship. I've got crew in danger and I want them out of here safe. I'll tell you as much as I can on the way, but we need to move," she said and then disappeared into the ducts.

Secure Storage

Windblade couldn't believe what she was hearing. Decepticons? Murderous, psychotic politicians? Insignia? Flagship? It was as though she was tossed into a war without so much as a morning cup of oil. Elita One seemed to explain as quickly as cybertronianly possible, only to turn and rush into the vents before Windblade could even respond. She didn't know how or why, but Windblade was sure that she had felt this sensation before; the panic of being followed, the hatred of politics, the unnatural feeling of the world moving beneath one's feet.

She didn't know why, but there was a horrid feeling of deja vu screaming in her head.

Nevertheless, she decided that she likely didn't have the time to stand about and question her surroundings further. Elita was already in the vents and Windblade needed to follow, if for no other reason than to get answers. Elita had promised her that much, at least.

"Why are they trying to kill you?" Windblade asked quietly with a screaming headache, bending down to follow after the leader of the group through the vents.

There wasn't exactly a wrong side to a war per-se, but it would be a comfort to know that she wasn't crawling after some terrorists.

Secure Storage

Roulette took on a big more of Windblade's weight in order to move quicker when she saw Elta's signal.

"Long story short, they want to conquer everything and we disagree with that. Thus they want to make us dead." She said with a smile.

"I promise we can explain later more but we don't have much time right now. Let's get to a friendlier place first ok?"

She help moved Windblade to the hole they had used to enter and offered her a boost up.

The Nemesis--Ducts

Once Elita-1 had scrambled her way up, she maneuvered into position to better assist Windblade, who was in the process of receiving a boost up from Roulette. She then followed that up with a hand down for Roulette and quickly aided her fellow comrade in joining them. Once they were all huddled down in the ducts, Elita took a moment to answer Windblade's previous questions more thoroughly while she calibrated her equipment.

"A long, long time ago, a madmech named Megatron lead a rebellion against Cybertron. A leader rose up from the ashes of what was destroyed and fought back. That leader was Optimus Prime. His courage and Megatron's tyranny ignited a war that has now lasted over four-million years."

Elita turned and started to crouch-crawl as quickly as she could through the ductwork until there was enough space for her to stand.

"Like Roulette said, they want to kill us because we had the courage to follow Optimus and stand up to Megatron. I'll follow 'freedom is the right of all sentient beings' over 'peace through tyranny' any cycle."

Vents

Windblade wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation that she found herself in. As Roulette and Elita seemed to give varying explanations, from the seemingly matter-of-fact to the outright preachy. Apparently a mech named Megatron had managed to revolt against what she could only assume was another Transformer, likely the previous leader, called "Cybertron". Afterward, Megatron came into power, prompting Optimus...

Optimus Prime? "Prime"? Something about that word was incredibly familiar. It was a word that she had heard so many times, but she couldn't quite put her finger on where or when. It was as if hearing someone say an old alias, or perhaps talking about a past trend. It was... Nostalgia.

Apparently, or at least according to Elita, Optimus was fighting for freedom whereas Megatron wanted total subjugation. Windblade didn't figure that the two women had any real reason to lie to her, but she couldn't help but to wonder if the Decepticons were really as bad as her caretakers thought they were. There were always two sides to every story, and she would have liked to hear both sides before judging.

As Roulette gave her a boost, Windblade was met with a helping hand from Elita, pulling her upward into the vent system, followed shortly by Roulette.

"Thank you." she muttered as she clambered into the vents, sensitive wings scrubbing the ceiling.

As they crawled through the ducts after Elita, she mulled over the facts. Surely the conflict wasn't an extermination, and judging by the weapons that the Red Face Brands (a title she had to come up with on her own) held, she was certain that perhaps there was more to the story that she was missing. But for the moment, she was sure that they were tiring of her constant questioning about their conflict, and she decided that she would rather not antagonize them.

As she duck-walked into the ducts, her wings raked against the roof as she uncontrollably had them at alert out of alarm. The cavity opened into a larger room where she could finally stand and regain her bearings. But as she did, there was a distinct feeling that she knew that she recognized. It wasn't so much as a sensation, but it was... It was the metal beneath her feet. She didn't know why, but...

Windblade's train of thought was cut off by Elita's speech, no doubt prodded onward by a massive sense of loyalty to her cause. Windblade didn't think it was a bad thing -- quite the opposite, she liked the loyalty -- but she was slightly put off by the outright demonizing of the Decepticons. Surely, they weren't that bad. Not that she would say that in front of Elita.

"So," Windblade paused to rub her head once more as her gyros finally whirred to a competent balance, "are there other Red Faces around here? Or is it just you two?"

Nemesis - Brig

“Aw, slag…” Scorch grumbled as Boss took a spill. He moved over to the mech’s side and began to heat up his finger, yanking off a piece of armor that was barely hanging on his assemblage. He ripped off a smaller piece of it and began to weld a rough patch to Boss’s head. “This ain’t gonna look pretty…”

“Well, there's no easy way to say this. We’re going to be executed. And, on top of that, it’s going to be broadcasted for all to see. Even Thunderclash will witness our deaths. Great, huh?”

Chromia clenched her fists and looked away. “Yeah. Fan-tastic,” she growled. Not that Chromia hadn’t expected it to come to this. The longer that they were on this tub, the worse their odds of survival became. Slaggit, where was Elita and the others? They didn’t have any more time. Worse yet, if they’d been discovered or captured…but Chromia figured that she would know about that by now. These Cons weren’t ones to hold back when gloating.

So there was hope. There was still hope.

>>”If those friends of yours are still around, Chromia, now would be a good time for them to come and save our afts, don’t you think?”<<

>>”It would,”<< Chromia replied, >>”I’m sure they’re still around. Not sure what the holdup is. Luckily, we might have a plan B.”<< Leading Road Rage’s gaze to Flare-Up, Chromia nodded at the younger femme. “But, in any case, how was Thunderclash? You did get to see him, right?”

“Yeah, was he…?” Flash said rushing up to the barrier of the cell.

“Done,” Scorch said, patting Boss on the shoulder. A big, unsightly chuck of metal welded to his head to keep the energon from leaking out. A rough job if there ever was.

Nemesis - Brig:



Boss awoke again to Scorch welding a patch on his head. Smart use of resources. Boss couldn't help but smile a bit under his faceplate.

The amount of energon that had escaped Boss' head wasn't nearly as much as he thought it was. Of course, flow out of the head is likely to cause hallucinating. That's probably what happened.

“Well, there's no easy way to say this. We’re going to be executed. And, on top of that, it’s going to be broadcasted for all to see. Even Thunderclash will witness our deaths. Great, huh?”

The unfamiliar voice sounded like another one of the femmes. Boss wasn’t one to normally show fear, but he couldn’t help but tell that there was a sense of dread within his spark. Along side it however was a faint sensation of hope. Very faint, but it was there, and Boss found himself clinging to it.

“Done,” Scorch said.

"Thanks a ton, Scorch," said Boss. Boss then whispered in Scorch's audio receptor, "Apparently my main flow redirection artery is corrupted somehow. I was able to redirect the flow alternatively, but without proper energon infusion I may experience some... 'side effects', in the mean time. This protection however is going to be a huge help.” Boss knocked his knuckle gently against it as he spoke.

Boss could feel some of the dizziness he was "warned of". It would take some adjusting to. He put his hand on his head where the hole once was. This was a sign of hope in Boss’ mind. He almost died, but he didn’t. Maybe the same kind of luck would happen to him and the rest of his team still alive. Maybe Primus was on their side after-all.

Even though Boss was the only "leader figure" in the Brig right now, he decided it best to listen to everyone's two cents first, and then decide what to do.

"Sometimes, time is the best plan. Let's wait for opportunity, and weigh our options in the mean time."

Boss thought it unwise to any of them to use their private comm systems to talk to each-other about anything. What if these Predators found a way to listen in through Thunderclash's comm system? No, we need to be smart about it.

Vents

Roulette climbed up as she took Elita's hand. She followed the others, not planning on getting separated again. "Red faces? You mean the Autobrand? Although, I guess it is basically a red face." Roulette chuckled.

"Unfortunately, yes." Roulette replied to Windblade's question. "Our friends and other Autobots have been captured by the Decepticons and held here. By the way, 'Lita. Any ideas on how we can help them?"

Nemesis – Brig

>>”It would. I’m sure they’re still around. Not sure what the holdup is. Luckily, we might have a plan B.”<<

A plan B? Well, that was somewhat comforting news. Road Rage didn’t press Chromia for specifics. At least, not yet. It was only a possibility, after all, a “might”, and thus no need to get herself all excited over what could turn out to be nothing. At the end of the cycle, they could all still end up executed. The joy. >>”Glad to hear that there’s a back-up plan. Let me know if you need me to do anything. I’m game.”<<

“But, in any case, how was Thunderclash? You did get to see him, right?”

“Yeah, was he…?”

Chromia’s and Flash’s concerns for Thunderclash then came to the forefront and it was once again up to the crimson femme to update them all on current affairs, this time the Regional Commander’s present condition. “Yes, I saw him. I saw Thunderclash. He’s not good, I’m afraid. He’d clearly been tortured, but physically he’s holding his own under the circumstances. It’s more than I could do in his position that's for sure. His emotional state, however, is another story. Skyquake managed to get the information he wanted out of Thunderclash, but not before one of us paid the ultimate price.”

Road Rage’s thoughts then shifted to poor Speed Bump, who Skyquake had murdered in cold oil right in front of everyone in the Reservoir in order to get Thunderclash to talk. There hadn’t been much left of the Autobot once the Predator Commander had blown him to bits. Energon, fluids, chunks of metal and not much else. It had been a horrific sight, one that the former bodyguard would not soon forget.

“When I was being ushered out of the Reservoir, it looked as if they were going to start torturing him again. So, I don’t know if anything has changed since. But, the last time I saw Thunderclash, he was alive. Skyquake wants to make him watch us all die. So, I would assume that means our commander is still functioning, which is at least something I suppose.”

The Nemesis--Ducts

"Prime"? Windblade had asked. Elita-1 looked back at her briefly, not with scorn or anything negative, just raw surprise. She was clearly molded in the form of a Cybertronian, but Elita couldn't imagine a mech actually being from Cybertron and seemingly not understanding what the term "Prime" meant, no matter how cloistered away they were. At least Roulette had cleared up the business about the Autobrand.

"Yeah. Those of us loyal to the Prime, this Prime anyway, wear this symbol. The symbol goes back further, just like the title Prime, and there were some bearers of that title that definitely didn't deserve it. I guess....sometimes in my quieter moments, I can sympathize with why the Decepticons rebelled. The government run by Primes has seen some crazies come through. Zeta Prime was insane. Nominus was worthless. But...Megatron just took it way too far. He became worse than anything he was ever fighting against."

Elita stopped herself and smirked.

"That's just me waxing philosophical though. If Prowl wants you, I'm sure you're going to get a whole different education about the state of the universe when you two meet."

"Our friends and other Autobots have been captured by the Decepticons and held here. By the way, 'Lita. Any ideas on how we can help them?" Roulette had added to her earlier sentiment, and it echoed in Elita's mind now as she crawled through the ductwork of this massive monster of a ship.

"I think I'm gonna rely on instinct and training. I'll know more when we can see a layout of the room they're being kept in and who's around."

Nemesis -- Vents

Seemingly noticing Windblade's shock to the name "Prime", an equally shocked Elita proceeded to explain further the war that Windblade had been dragged into. Apparently Cybertron Prime was a corrupt ruler, leading to revolution led by Megatron, who learned a lust for power after waging a war for freedom. At the simple mentioning of it, Windblade wondered if this "Optimus Prime" and his... What did Roulette call them? "Autobots"? She wondered if they were suffering the same fate. So easy it was to fall to one's most primal desires.

She knew that feeling was more than just intuition, that it was based off experience. Not that she could know just what that experience was because of her fragging missing memory! There had to be a way to remember -- not that she would know one if it was presented. After all, it would have been quite lucky indeed if the only thing she could remember was the way how to remember. It was as though she had locked a key inside the safe of which it was paired.

Also, who was this "Prowl" of which Elita had spoken? And what kind of "education" was she to receive?

"Who is this 'Prowl' and what does he want with me?" she asked, keeping pace with Elita.

But through the panic of the situation, her amnesia and the threat of being dragged into a war, she had a feeling that she couldn't shake. It was as if... No, it was probably all in her head. There were more important things at hand.

Nemesis -- Vents

"Make it up as we go along. Got ya!" Roulette said with a smile. "I wish you would have been my supervisor back in my days in law enforcement. Would have saved me a lot of yelling sessions."

She followed them and could not help but giggle when Windblade mentioned Prowl.

"Now, THAT should have been the first question you asked." She said in a playful tone. "Prowl is just like my supervisor. If he calls you into his office you know it's not for anything good."