The Energon Pub

Garrus-9—Southern Wing—Cell Blocks

Unless he doesn’t know…Icepick thought, believing it to be not out of the realm of possibility for the likes of Prowl to keep such an act very quiet. If that was the case, and Scorponok could not get what he actually came for, Icepick could not help but wonder what the fates of the rest of the Monstercons would be. Their perceived value would certainly drop considerably.

Icepick watched with a bit of a forlorn expression as Umbra and others were carted off to a different area and the process of isolating and assembling the Monstercons together was clearly under way. The femme had become something of a pleasant distraction from the harsh realities of their incarcerated existence and now that was being taken away as well. Because of him. No, because of it. And he couldn’t really feel too bad about that, as it would be far safer for her to not be anywhere in his vicinity when and if the formidable Scorponok decided to do what Icepick was increasingly suspecting he would do. On the bright side, he was quite confident that he had shown an Autobot a different side to the traditional faces of the Decepticon war machine. And perhaps shown her that there could be a place for her amongst their ranks too. A new recruit. That comforted him on some level.

Peace through tyranny. At the end of the day, he believed it worked. That was why he himself had converted so long ago and joined the demolitions squad. Tearing down the old ways that didn’t work and replacing them with something sturdier. In practical matters, it usually had meant clearing an area for the Constructicons to begin work. But the message could be applied on a far deeper, more philosophical level and it was that level that he had come to appreciate more and more during his time within Garrus. After all, the time available for him to sit and think had been nigh limitless.

Icepick stepped forward, a little uneasily as he painfully found his balance once more and nodded as the other Decepticons nearby urged him to move. He heard something clatter to the ground as he did, looking down to find some of the broken remnants of the inhibitor tech that had been purposefully installed in the back of his cranial unit and partially along his upper torso. Another casualty of his little brawl with Cutthroat undoubtedly, but he paid no additional attention to it. It was technology that was surely going to be removed from all of them soon enough.

“You are of commendable skill, my lord Bludgeon. I would have been honored to have been a part of the Empirion’s crew,” Icepick said. It never hurt to lay a little diplomatic track when the opportunity afforded itself.
___

Semper Tyrannis—Bridge

The conversation between the acting captain of the Semper Tyrannis and the former captain of the Farstar had taken an unexpected turn. Dialogue of this nature would be more expected from the likes of Ultra Magnus and Shockwave rather than the two Cybertronians who were taking part in it now. Curious. Curious and odd.

But entertaining! Oh so entertaining.

Reflector let out a satisfied sigh when the message from the mighty commander of the 2nd Expansion Fleet had finished broadcasting for Scattershot’s personal benefit. That should just about do it, Reflector figured. Any lingering Autobot morale should have basically taken a direct hit from Megatron’s fusion cannon with that little display.

Reflector saved a copy of the recording so that he could watch it again later in his habitation suite.
___

Semper Tyrannis—Brig

Lightspeed smiled and rested a hand comfortingly on Strafe's shoulder for a moment. This was war. Not only war but a direct and massive battle within said war. It was going to take some kind of toll on all of them. Lightspeed knew that he could just as easily be in a similar state.

“Don’t worry about it. Happens to all of us,” Lightspeed said as he watched Strafe motion toward some of the energon that the Decepticon femme had brought with her. It had actually been quite good. Pointblank might have been a little too paranoid to try it, but Lightspeed had noticed no ill effects. It was a rather high concentration actually, free of a lot of unnecessary additives, just how Lightspeed preferred to ingest it. It would surely do Strafe some good too. He moved away for a moment to retrieve one of the cubes and handed it to Strafe.

“Not bad stuff actually. The accommodations obviously leave something to be desired, but I’ve eaten in worse dives than this,” the Technobot added with a smirk.
___

Garrus-9--Southern Wing

Stormwrecker almost reflexively punched the Autobot in the face for his little act of situational camaraderie. It wasn't something the other mech had ever been used to in his functional cycles within the Decepticon ranks. Fortunately, however, he was able to recognize the gesture for what it was and not start a random brawl in the middle of a warzone.

"Especially that one," Stormwrecker said as they walked with an extra bit of pep in their step, gesturing back the in the other direction where Overlord and his slaughter would have surely put an end to any rescue attempts on their part.

When Vroom stopped to listen to some kind of transmission that was being broadcast throughout the entire prison, Stormwrecker listened as well. He recognized the voice, though only barely. He never had any direct dealings with the likes of Scorponok. He just knew that the mech had been a formidable gladiator that had risen through the empire's ranks, most likely because their leader had been a formidable gladiator too and surely held some kind of particular affinity for those Cybertronians who had been forced to carve out their existence in that way.

He looked over at Vroom--who appeared to be going through some kind of existential crisis. He didn't know what that meant, exactly, when one carried an Autobot badge and had fought under the likes of Optimus Prime and his kind for so long, but it had to be kind of similar to some of Stormwrecker's own conflicting thoughts.

"Yeh. Mebbe I know what you mean. I mean Scorponok and his battalion are obviously going to release any 'Con prisoners they find and I been wantin' that to happen for so long now. And now....now it's happenin' and I find myself thinkin' I probably had it better off before. Maybe I don't even know what I want anymore. Gonna be a strange new world, if we survive this."

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing--Cell Blocks

That laughing. It was insufferable. Cutthroat was awake now, but it made things no less irritating. Blot had feasted on Cutthroat without question as per Hun-Grr's original orders, but the troublemaker had fallen unconscious. Blot's master would have no escape from the anguish of being feasted upon. One of the others had woken Cutthroat up. Only for Cutthroat to unleash an infuriating laughter as he lashed out at them.

The other Terrorcons took Cutthroat's limbs one by one, but that laughter troubled Blot to the point of being unable to just simply feast upon his comrade. Smacking Cutthroat's head heavily with an actuator, Blot proceeded smack Cutthroat again. "Why?!" Blot snarled viciously as he beat Cutthroat again. "Why you laugh?"



Eastern Wing - Power Station

Pounce watched with some mixed feeling of pride and irritation as Wingspan took one of his guns from him to perform...a special kind of surgery on Fortress Maximus. It was good to see his typically cold and calculating brother vent some of the savagery inside of him. After all, that was really the only proper way to go about doing anything truly worthwhile. At least in Pounce's line of work.

Speaking of Pounce's line of work, he had ought to get back to it. Letting his brother enjoy his little play date with the gargantuan Fortress Maximus, Pounce slunk off into the depths of the prison. He was looking for the Rig....the Rig. Logic would dictate that it would be in the lowest levels. Somewhere secure. Defensible. Pounce moved through the power station. There would be an access to that. An elevator perhaps. Yes.

Where to look...where to look...Pounce swept his optics over his surroundings even as he disappeared into the corridors of the penitentiary.

Garrus-9 – Southern Wing

Shrapnel maintained his course to the nearest cell block, he and his diaclones scuttling through the penitentiary in a fevered rush, squealing and chittering as if afflicted by a form of madness. Wherever it might be. Truth be told, he didn't know the layout of this place, and probably should have listened to Bombshell's advice regarding the tactical map he ought to have downloaded to his memory banks prior to the assault. Whoops. He might have slipped up there.

Still, he was having a blast – quite literally, too, as he caused the explosive demise of many Autobots that stood in his way with his electrical prowess – and his cackling hinted towards the high spirits he was in. Cranial units, limbs, torsos: they all flew apart in bright flashes, the horrific damage adorning their bodies and the agonising screams erupting from their vocalisers just so, so delightful to see and hear.

And during his fun, he realised, he hadn't even turned around once to make sure if Ransack was still following him. Some team-mate he was.

But Ransack would be there. Somewhere. Hanging around the rear of the Swarm. Or in the middle. Maybe.

>>"Autobots, your resistance is at an end. Witness your defeat! Your great and mighty commander - Fortress Maximus... has fallen! What hope is there for those of you that remain and continue to fight? I am your hope now. Throw down your weapons, submit yourselves to the Decepticon empire and grasp your only remaining chance at living to fight another day. Your only alternative... is destruction."<<

Well now. Fascinating news that proved to be. Shrapnel, with genuine conviction, had believed that old Maxy would have lasted a tad longer against Scorponok, given how the two mighty Transformers appeared as equals when it came to warfare. They were walking armouries, the pair of them, their strength and firepower almost unrivalled, and only a match for one another. Suddenly, Shrapnel found himself wondering about the destruction they'd both produced as they had fought.

What a pretty site it would be.

Speaking of destruction, the time had arrived for Shrapnel to hasten the completion of his task so he could mess this joint up himself. With Ransack presumably trailing behind, the Insecticon increased his already swift pace and scampered through another corridor, lost in an advancing black and purple wave lashed by jagged whips of lightning bolts.

Garrus 9 Southern Cell Block

Tentakill moved through the gloom slowly keeping his Monstercon cohorts close the Monstercon Wildfly was asking questions one about the inhibitor technology that was connected to them. “Wouldn’t know where to begin I destroy things but not usually when its attached to a fellow decepticon” Tentakill was preparing to explain about his unusual alternate mode when Nautilator and Seawing appeared. Nautilator was waving his gun around Tentakill pushed the barrel to the ground not fully trusting the idiot not to shoot them by mistake “Don’t point your gun at the newcomers Nautilator. Monstercons! Yes these are the remaining Monstercons I got orders to escort them back to the other pair we found”

The undersea demolitions expert looked back to the Monstercons “my colleagues and I are an underwater assault team hence our strange alternate modes your comrades shall be glad to see you what where their names?”

Tentakill thought for a moment he then brought his head up

“Oh yes! Icepick who managed to get into a fight with a Terrorcon and Scowl who hasn’t said a lot”


Another part of Garrus 9's Southern Cell Block

Bludgeon was moving from the scene his focus was on moving forward for more Decepticons still trapped within the walls and furthering his own plans. the sound of someone jogging to catch up reached his audio receptors by the lightness of the steps he assumed it was Umbra “Nice of you to join me Umbra” Bludgeon didn’t turn to look at her but a statement from Icepick gave the imposing decepticon a momentary pause.

“You are of commendable skill, my lord Bludgeon. I would have been honoured to have been a part of the Empirion’s crew,"

The statement genuinely reached the normally distant decepticon as he turned and looked back at Icepick “if the Empirion ever gets restored to me and you survive the upcoming Ordeals. Find me Icepick there shall be a place on the Empirion for Brave mechs such as yourself”

Bludgeon turned and moved further into the cell complex beckoning Umbra with his shield “we move forward, I expect a lot from you Umbra do not fail me” Bludgeon knew that the Autobots resistant would be faltering like a petro rabbit standing in the face of a turbo fox before they made their rush to escape. Shots came from the darkness Bludgeon effortlessly dodged and weaved through the first two salvos and brought his shield up to block the third.

“Umbra you must leave Icepick their convergence will be an unholy union not many things shall stand up to him. Not me Not Scorponok it’s doubtful a Phase six ‘er will slow him down. Understand he will not be himself” Bludgeon kicked a Cell door and slid into the cell as more shots pounded into the wall next to him. The electric warrior hoped that Umbra understood that Icepick would be submerged when the Monstercons did their unholy union a new personality would emerge one that hated everything.

Bludgeon took a look from his cell and bolted into the darkness the echo of his voice floating back

“Forward!”

Garrus-9--Southern Corridors

Overlord looked at his hand covered in the innards and fluids from the Autobot’s cranium. A brief smile washed over his face before fading. He wiped the gore on a nearby wall, leaving a giant handprint and smear upon it. The Decepticon briefly considered writing something suitably macabre in the fluids, but dismissed it for now. He had wasted too much time here with these minor nuisances, there had to be better and more challenging things ahead of him.

The Decepticon turned his attention away from the wall as he heard something. Apparently an Autobot had been hiding and had survived his initial onslaught. It was something that would be rectified soon enough.

"What....in the hell....are you?"

Overlord paused for a moment at the Autobot’s words. “I suppose that is the price I pay for leaving few survivors, lack of recognition among my enemies. I am the Decepticon your comrade’s whisper about, the one you hope to never see. The Decepticon you didn’t even thing was real until this very moment. I am Overlord, and while it might help spread my reputation for you to survive I think it would be far quicker for both of us if you just die now.”

Guns emerged from his torso, opening up with blistering fire, severing the Autobot neatly in half at the waist. The few pathetic shots he got off merely bounced off of Overlord’s heavily armored body. The phase-sixer strode forward, further into the prison, finishing the Autobot off with his massive foot, resulting in a muffled scream and a spray of metal shrapnel and fluids along the floor. He paused briefly as he heard movement behind him, but continued on his way when nothing came of it. Too much time had already been wasted on this encounter when the promise of greater ones lie ahead of him.

The phase-sixer paused as the message boomed throughout all communication channel from Scorponok. Apparently the Decepticon command had finally defeated his longtime foe Fortress Maximus in single combat. Apparently he was quite proud of finally taking down the jailer that everyone, friend or foe, had to hear about it. Of course he had been hoping to duel Maximus himself, but he was sure it wouldn’t have gone down as one of his most monumental victories that Scorponok was spinning it as. There was only one being that would be such a great victory for Overlord, and his time would come some day.

The fact that Scorponok was broadcasting this message meant there was still some fighting going on, and that the Decepticons weren’t even necessarily winning. It meant that there was still some chance, however slight, at some sort of entertainment to be gained from this battle. As his personal amusement and satisfaction was often paramount to Overlord he began jogging down the corridors, deeper into the prison to find whatever fights might be left or, failing that, simply victims he could murder in creative ways.

*

Garrus-9—Southern Wing—Cell Blocks

Scowl had become oblivious to most of his surroundings, simply following Icepick and the others around as he focused on all of the noise around them. It was just that he was reveling in all of the noise, virtually being bathed in it, although that was certainly a part of it. He was also searching for something in particular, specific voices that he hadn’t heard in quite some time. It would be difficult to find them in the prison under good circumstances, let alone the current one.

The Monstercon had just located two of the voices he had been hunting for when he was dragged out of his search by another voice, by a single word.

Monstructor.

Upon hearing the name he flashed to so many other mentions of it throughout history. Hearing it yelled in anger, in awe, in terror, voices from all walks of life, scientist, civilian, soldier and everything in between. Finally he heard it in his memories in a very familiar voice, one that came from him, that came from all of them, but wasn’t any of them. It was a dark voice, rumbling voice that sounded like a boulder rumbling down a mountain. It was a voice he had hoped to never hear again.

Monstructor.

A shiver went down his spine as Scowl looked over at Icepick, knowing his teammate was thinking the same thing he was. He wasn’t going to discuss it openly though, there was no need. Now everything that had happened to them all made a lot more sense. He had forgotten, having been imprisoned so long. Now part of him wish he was still locked up and blissfully ignorant once again.

Scowl pointed ahead of them. When he spoke it was in an uncharacteristically monotone voice at normal volume. “Slog, Wildfly and Birdbrain are up ahead, I can hear them. I haven’t been able to hear Bristleback yet, but I am sure he is in here somewhere.”

*

Airachnid picked her way through the wreckage of her former cell block. She had gotten knocked around by some of the explosions, possibly even getting briefly deactivated by them. Once she had reactivated Flames was long gone and her cell had been torn up by wreckage crashing down on it. It appeared that she needn’t worry about an escape plan as one had presented itself right to her. It seemed almost too good to be true.

The Decepticon carefully stepped out of her ruined cell, optics darting around to make sure there were no guards or other unfriendlies around waiting to end her good fortune quickly and violently. She let a smile briefly cross her face. She was free of the accursed cell and one small step closer to true freedom.

Unfortunately with this one small step forwards she also felt as if she had taken two steps back. If the high security area she had been kept in was so thoroughly damaged and forgotten then the whole prison was liable to be in shambles. While it might make for an excellent distraction she had her doubts of being able to find a working vessel to get her off the planet, let alone actually making it into orbit without getting shot down by someone. The choices left to her now were to hide out and wait, try to make her escape later on or simply join up with the Decepticon forces attacking the prison and try to get out with them.

Hiding and waiting was probably the more sensible plan but with the possibility of escape so near she doubted she could tolerate waiting any longer. She might have parted with the Decepticons on less then ideal terms it wasn’t like she had turned on them, there was a decent chance they would just welcome her back into the fold, especially if she came back willingly. Plus, they would probably be able to get the inhibitor claw off her back.

Airachnid ducked into a deserted cell as she heard voices nearby and gunfire in the distance. The Autobots had seemed to abandon this part of the prison so she hoped it meant it was a Decepticon closing in on her position. If it wasn’t, then she was going to have to hope her fighting skills hadn’t completely dulled during her incarceration.

“Forward!”

She waved her arm briefly outside the cell door as she heard the voice and approaching footfalls. “Friendly! I am unarmed!” At the very least that would stop an Autobot from shooting her, and hopefully a Decepticon as well. She did not know it was both the Decepticon Bludgeon and the Autobot Umbra who approached her.

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing - Cell Blocks

The laughing had become weaker after all the damage that had been done to him but it was still there. It actually gained a little strength when Blot became visibly annoyed with it.

"Does it... bother you Blot?" Cutthroat weakly asked in between his laughter. "You all... attack me... you try... to be... terror. Heh heh heh... but joke is... you all still pets... heh... that funny."

Garrus 9 - Eastern Wing - Power Station

Soul Siren's consciousness began to fade as the medical personnel that had been summoned came over to her. She could see them beginning to do their work although she could not feel them, those systems had already failed and were soon followed by her optics. She heard words but she did not have enough energy to tell what they meant. The words where hurried, stressed, even frantic. She felt too tired to be concerned, however. As her audio systems failed she entered a strange state of having no input from the outside world. In that moment of total peace she momentarily felt as if she could finally let go. This sensation was fleeting however.

"No... not yet..." The thought came to her mind. The last thought before everything finished fading.

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing - Cell Blocks

"Enough!"

Hun-Gurrr could barely contain his frustration as the shoved the other Terrorcons away from Cutthroat, taking the center stage himself. Cutthroat was not responding the way he had expected - the way anyone else with the rare exception of masochistic psychopaths - would have reacted. Cutthroat certainly had possessed both of these qualities but there was still something that kept the shock trooper apart from mechs like Darkride. Ultimately Cutthroat was neither immune to fear or pain. Hun-Grrr had witnessed such moments in the past. As rare such events had been - they had existed. What had changed? Had their mission and the energon radiation damage it had suspected them towards during their stay in LV-117 removed even those few inhibitions Cutthroat had had? Or was there something he was not seeing?

"Unless..."

"You act like you feel no fear or pain..." The two-headed Algean razor beast snarled as it brought one of his heads near Cutthroat's face, "I know you better." It whispered. "I can smell it... I can taste it... it reeks from you."

Death. If there was something that was in common with an average Cybertronian and Cutthroat - it was the fear of death. Those who enjoyed causing pain and taking lives of others the most had even stronger need to feel alive, to feel invincible. To be set free of chains that bound them. Cutthroat could fight every rule, every law - but one he could not best. Death was the final shackle. A shackle that could never be broken without giving away everything. Perhaps all the death and destruction Cutthroat caused was his pitiful way of making offerings to the one thing he could not fight, offering to delay the inevitable.

"If freedom truly is what you seek Cutthroat... I can end it all forrr you here. Call it... an act of mercy. A testament of yourrr weakness."

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing - Cell Blocks

"Pain? You call this... pain?" Cutthroat spat out some internal fluids as he laughed. "Give me... all you want. I... know pain.... and being Decep...tico's pet... that... is more painful than this."

Cutthroat's looked straight at Hun-Grr's eyes.

"Fear?, Fear? I might... have feared.... the monster I used to know.... not the shell... I am looking at. The Hun...Grr I knew would not.. allow... enemies to live... or insults to stand.
We were...feared... not feared... anymore. That... Hun-Grr.... I followed."

He stopped laughed and frowned.

"I... hold.... no fear... for what you... have become. You will... never end me... not without... the permission... of your master.... Pet."

Garrus-9 - Southern Wing

Vroom nods to what Stormwrecker said. “I suppose a long time in a place like this can change the way you see the outside world. Worse case maybe you can ask for a job here as a guard while you figure things out.”

As they walked he could hear the sounds of weapon fire being exchanged nearby. It had become weaker now, probably more due to attrition than Scorponok’s announcement. Vroom’s grinned.

“Gotta hand it to them…” He said as he looked in the direction of the sounds. “There are some damn stubborn ‘Cons and ‘Bots still fighting out there.”

He spoke with respect in his words. Just because he, himself, had lost faith in the cause did not mean he did not respect those who still had it. Before he could say any more a loud rumble could be heard followed by the sounds of a ceiling collapsing in the direction where the fire was coming from.

“Aw slag, I don’t hear any more weapon fire.” Vroom said. Sometimes fighting ending could be a very bad sign. “I think the wall collapsed on those fighting over there. Come on, let’s see what we can do to help. This fighting is in the periphery, nowhere near the important stuff, so medics will come here last. ”

Seawing kept walking through the cell block they were currently in, looking for the Monsterscon. It was a dissapoiting task, to say the least. Certainly not suited for a mech of his calibre. But it's not like he had much choice in the matter. He would follow Snaptrap's orders.... For now. But one day others will be the one to follow his orders. One day he will ru-

>>"Autobots, your resistance is at an end. Witness your defeat! Your great and mighty commander - Fortress Maximus... has fallen! What hope is there for those of you that remain and continue to fight? I am your hope now. Throw down your weapons, submit yourselves to the Decepticon empire and grasp your only remaining chance at living to fight another day. Your only alternative... is destruction."<<

Seawing's thoughts were interrupted by the message resounding throughout the whole facility. Interesting. So Maximus has bitten the spacedust. Scorpónok is indeed a mech to fear.

Before he could continue with his thought process, the voice of that fool of Nautilator reached his hearing unit.

Seawing didn't bother with a response, but he had to admit that being locked in here wouldn't be the most pleasant of endings. As he continued walking, he saw the form of Tentakill accompained by several other mechs. The Monstercons, most likely.
He adressed his fellow Seacon. "I see you have found our targets, Tentakill. Good. Now maybe we can start doing something more useful than looking for them. Like taking over this place completely." He looked to the Monstercons present. "We better move, Snaptrap will want to see you as soon as possible."

Garrus-9 outside the Aequitas chamber

The autobot beneath his bulk was still squirming the Horrorcon pressed his knee into the back of Streamlight. His anger was seething the interceptor’s internal temperature was rising all he wanted to do was pound the autobot into transistors and a spark chamber. His hopes where raised as Cipher started to speak but he stopped as that orange pipsqueak Rung clasped his wrist taking his attention back to him.

Snapdragon released one of Streamlight’s arms before slamming his own fist into the floor creating a crater next to autobots head. With a vicious amount of venom lacing his words he looked directly at Cipher “either get on with it or I’m scrapping all three of you” the anger was rising if it kept going little was going to slow the Horrorcon down excep tmaybe Apeface.

He lifted his fist from the crater he’d created and resumed gripping the Autobot’s arm he started to stretch the arms like a torture rack being winched out.

Semper Tyrannis - Brig

Afterburner was stood off to one side he gave Brainstorm a mini salute as he responded to his earlier repartee with the bio engineer. But his temper fired in frustration at being injured and within a cell he slammed his fist on the wall. And glared impatiently at both Scattershot and Firewire before his voice found its full fury.

“You pair are ridiculous everyone blames the leadership for societies problems, How about the pair of you take a look inwardly. Its more the every mechs fault for following blindly when the leadership makes a mistake, take my fearless leader here he’s managed to land us in a brig injured who is the bigger fool him for leading or us for following him”

Preaching peace through tyranny the playground of the ignorant someone like Firewire definitely was hiding something she definitely wasn’t peering in for her system health. “Get out of here you’re like a leach trying to wean information out of us Lightspeed is too naive to realise it and Brainstorm the guy spouts more information that most of us can process”

The Gunner turned and stalked off to where Brainstorm was mapping out his various simple formula’s across the walls. “Shame you can’t build something to warp them forcefields enough for us to make an escape” Afterburner talked a lot more softly than his outburst a few moments ago as he slumped back in the spot he was in when he started

Semper Tyrannis--Brig

The Technobot looked up from the conversation he was having with Strafe. Lightspeed was growing a little befuddled by what he was hearing. First Scattershot was getting after him for seemingly talking too much with their newly arrived Decepticon inquisitor and now Afterburner was having a go at him. Was Nosecone next? He had been a little too quiet lately. Maybe he wanted to take a shot too while the picking was good. You would think he was giving this 'Con all the Autobot battle plans that had been developed over the last few vorns.

"Hey!" Lightspeed finally interjected. "Not naive. Not. I wasn't telling her anything that won't be public knowledge anyway once these 'Cons do a little more digging."

Besides, they were better off accommodating a Decepticon like this than if they gave up the goods to mechs like Soul Siren or Scourge. If the Decpeticons started thinking that those were the only tactics that produced results then, well, it stood to reason that that's all they would use, too. Lightspeed, for his part, would pass on going through that again. Especially after having seen that transmission that the captain of this ship apparently decided it was necessary for them to see. The odds of their ongoing survival just got reduced significantly.

Garrus-9--East Wing Power Station

"A pity Megatron could not recruit him in the early days of the war. What a force he would have been under the Decepticon banner."

"For someone supposedly warborn, he did appear quite conveniently for the Autobots." Scorponok replied to Cyclonus' comment regarding Fortress Maximus. "We never even had a pre-emptive chance to recruit him. The cycle he made first recorded appearance we lost a platoon worth of soldiers. The attempts made to gauge his loyalties after that proved fruitless. He had chosen his path."

"You remember the Cyberutopian sect from the times before the war?" The enormous warlord suddenly asked his second in command, as if he had recalled something interesting. With the constant stresses of leadership like countless cycles of tactical and logistical calculations, the always evolving field of engineering to keep an edge in the arms race between the Autobots and the Decepticons - the war left little room to consider every piece of information the vast memory banks of a Cybertronian could record during their extremely long lifespans. Minor pieces of information such as odd rumors with little strategic value were put aside and gradually forgotten and replaced by new data. Even still, for most Cybertronians, four million years was not unreasonably long period of time to store even seemingly useless data. These memories just were repressed, indexed and compressed - thus requiring more effort to bring back to one's active memory.

"Of course you do. I seem to recall seeing a footage of one of their rallies with you taking part of it. Or at least being present."

"It is curious though that one of the leading figures of the Cyberutopian movement disappeared just prior the war began, only to reappear later, renouncing his faith in a recording rather than among live audience." Scorponok spoke, his gaze having focused on his fallen nemesis. "Pious Maximus and Fortress Maximus here are... or were superficially remarkably alike. Interestingly enough, we thought Pious Maximus perished in Clemency when Autobots destroyed Ferak's Nightmare Engine."

"Makes me wonder Cyclonus, if our two Maximuses are one and the same."

"Lord Scorponok, allow me to make up for lost time by pointing me in the direction you want and I'll be sure to get the job done."

Deadlock. Yet another reckless and over eager runner up for the position of next Starscream. Where exactly he had been during the first hours of the assault was already questionable enough - a reminder of his untrustfulness. Even his salute seemed half-hearted - it disgusted the mighty warlord. But to appear here and now just after Maximus' fall? Was he a coward as well? Perhaps he could still prove his mettle. The Autobots were hardly beaten yet.

"We barely control two of the prison's five wings Deadlock. Join forces with Scourge and take control of the starport. Without means of escape we will crack down the remaining enemy resistance. If necessary, corridor by corridor. Room by room."

Garrus-9 – Southern Wing

A cell block. At last, a cell block. Doubt had begun to creep into Shrapnel's central processor, his suspicions telling him that there were no cell blocks upon the path he was travelling. But that was ridiculous. Garrus-9, a prison, a penitentiary – one giant cell with many, many tiny cells inside of it – had cell blocks, so eventually Shrapnel would've found one sooner or later.

Again, it might have been a good idea to have downloaded that tactical map during the mission briefing. Oh well. You live and learn, as the phrase went. You live and learn.

Wreckage and a collection of the gory remains belonging to guards and prisoners alike littered the block's floor, creating a morbid atmosphere that Shrapnel approved of. Here, half a guard lay marinating in his own pool of vital fluids, his mouth wide open and issuing a perpetual silent scream. There, pressed up against a wall, absent of an arm and cranial unit, was a prisoner, looking a little worse for wear. Shrapnel chuckled at this scene of carnage, amused by the brutality it displayed. So very beautiful.

“Hey! Hey!” Metal slammed into metal, hitting it hard and fast. “Whoever the Pit is out there, get me the frag outta here!”

The tautness threaded into the voice... The harsh noise of the fist striking the door... What lovely sounds they were, just so smooth on the audio receptors. Shrapnel supposed he should free this poor prisoner instead of enjoying the sweet verbal delicacies the fellow was offering.

“Have no fear, friend, friend! Your saviour is here, here!”

Soon. He would soon.

Once Shrapnel had had his fill, he would release the wretch. As far as the Insecticon was concerned, a Decepticon's agony was equally as wonderful as an Autobot's, if not even better owing to the novelty of it. It pleased him to hear the panic in a comrade's tone, long lost or otherwise.

“Hey! Get me outta here!”

“Quite the mess here, isn't it, Ransack, Ransack?” he said to his team-mate without turning around to address him.

Ransack had been uncharacteristically silent since the Insecticon warrior had stumbled into Shrapnel. It wasn't like him to be this reserved, but Shrapnel's attention was elsewhere and he thought nothing of it, the bulk of his thoughts consisting of violence, pain and chaos.

“Hey! Hey!” More pounding on the door.

So only a single prisoner left in the entire cell block that required liberating. Considering there were no additional voices joining in with their calls for help, Shrapnel decided–

“Let me out, damn you! Let me out!”

Shrapnel decided that he'd had enough of playing the hero to the prisoners. Next on his agenda was the activities of his team-mates, particularly Bombshell and Kickback's. He'd not heard from them in a while and wondered what they were up to.

Technically, he should have been searching for the Monstercons... but he'd rather somebody else did that for him. Besides, he was positive at least half of the Monstercon unit had already been located and secured by now – his involvement, then, he believed, not all that necessary. The Seacons, the Terrorcons, Scourge and his one million Sweeps – let them handle it.

“Hey! I can hear you, you know! So hurry the Pit up!”

But before Shrapnel could unite with any of his fellow Insecticons, he had a prisoner to release.

“Coming, dear, dear!”

Garrus-9--Southern Wing

Stormwrecker scoffed quietly to himself at Vroom's suggestion of what his next career move might look like. Who knew? It could well pan out that way. What a fall from prominence that would be, to have profited so greatly from the early days of the war to being reduced to nothing more than a simple guard? Stormwrecker knew that he would have to find a way to eke out a better existence than that. Of course, that would hinge upon several factors; such as the Decepticons coming out of this engagement victorious (which seemed to be an increasingly foregone conclusion, but stranger things had happened in his day), and not being associated too closely with any renegade actions that Vroom had or might continue to take. So far, he figured he could probably deceive his way out of any trouble he might get into for what he had already done. But those struts would not hold forever.

“Gotta hand it to them…There are some damn stubborn ‘Cons and ‘Bots still fighting out there."

"Yeah. Perfect example of why this war has gone on for as long as it has. And why mechs like me were able to make such big hauls off the bloodlust of both sides. Bygone days, my friend. Bygone days. And yet the weapons still blaze onward."

He then turned in the same direction Vroom had when the tremors had come, followed by the sounds of some kind of structural collapse. Stormwrecker looked around again. Overlord was in one direction. Terrorcons, Seacons and Primus knows what else were in another. Vroom was following his suggestion and sticking to the peripheral corridors. He supposed that pretty much obligated him to keep following.

"Yeh, alright. Right behind ya. Or in front. I'll take point. I don't care at this juncture."

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing - Cell Blocks

Cutthroat, how dared he? Hun-Gurrr alone was the original Terrorcon. All the others - pale imitations. Misfits that had chosen to follow the example of his ferocious behavior in the pits of Kaon. Had he ever claimed to be something else than he was? No. This was Cutthroat's own fantasy. Fantasy he had seemingly succumbed into. Fantasy which had made the chaotic shock trooper to forget his place and how little his life meant to his master.

"Every monsterrr has a masterrr Cutthroat... Even Megatrrron." Hun-Grrr snarled, his taloned front limb tearing into Cutthroat's leg. "I respect only strength, and I have found yourrrs lacking! Pathetic weakling! You dare insult me?! I am Hun-Gurrr! I care not forrr yourrrr meagerrr idea of being a Terrorrrcon! The name was mine before you crawled to the light! You are nothing but fodderrr! A tool to be used as I see fit! A crude weapon sent to do my bidding!"

"Yourrrr opinion has been hearrrd..."

"And ignored!" Roaring out his anger and frustration, Hun-Gar sank his teeth into both sides of Cutthroat's torso and yanked his necks back, ripping Cutthroat's body free of the leg he has placed his weight on earlier.

"Grrrmpgh grrtghmph graaaah!" With his jaws locked in their pincer like grip around Cutthroat's torso, whatever Hun-Grr had to say next became incomprehensible rumbling. Rumbling accompanied by whining and shrieking of metal as Hun-grrr sank his teeth deeper into his insubordinate underling's cybernetic flesh. With his grip tightening, the monstrous leader of the Terrorcons began to pull his heads to opposite directions, causing massive stress to Cutthroat's already damage body - until the avian monster's spinal strut couldn't handle the stress anymore and snapped in two, thus removing the last resistance which had kept Cutthroat's body in one piece.

Torn in two, one half of Cutthroat was thrown across the corridor while the other - where he head was attached to - was thrown to the ground beneath Hun-Gurrr's maws.

"I have no use for a tool that cannot be controlled! You have turned from an asset to a burden!" Hun-Gar howled, rising to his hind legs. This was it. Cutthroat's last chance to save his wretched life and convince Hun-Grrr to allow him live. Or face death his master was all too eager to bring upon him. "Yourrr time..."

"... is running out!"

Garrus-9--Southern Wing

"The bloodlust of it does not seem very bygone considering what is hitting us." Vroom shake his head. "I used to remember what it was like when the fighting still began. Noble cause, fight for freedom, and all that. Then we started letting the maniacs into the armies. Sometimes I wonder if we are fighting for anything or just out of habit at this point."

"Or because some of us as addicted to excitement." He concluded in his own thoughts. As he looked back at his own life he wondered if he had joined the Autobots because he really believed in the cause or because it was the ultimate excitement. Had the Decepticons asked him first would he have joined them?

"Philosophizing in the middle of a war zone. I really have been in here too long." He thought.

Vroom saw Stormwrecker take point and continued along with him. "Alright, lead the way."

As they reached their goal Vroom frowned as he could see the entire area covered in debris. The occasional arm or leg sticking out from it testified to the reality that there were Transformers trapped under all of this as did the occasional moan.

"The sad thing is that this was not anywhere near the worse thing that could have hit these guys. Do me a favor and keep an optic out for anything with sharp teeth while I see what we are dealing with.

He shook his head and started to feel around the rubble, trying to find a spot where he could start moving rocks without causing even more damage.

Garrus 9 – East Wing Power Station

Wingspan had only noticed Pounce’s departure well after his sibling had gone, but he shrugged that absence aside. His Clone had his own interests. And now, Wingspan had work to attend. Dropping the energo-bayonet, the data analyst dug his digits into one of the armored plates that had come loose during his frenzied chopping and pulled. With some considerable effort, the abused chunk of metal tore partly free, exposing enough of Maximus’ cerebral circuitry for him to begin. But a task like this was best performed in private, away from prying optics.

He waited dutifully for Scorponok to turn his attention from his fallen rival to the ongoing battle to fully secure the prison, then caught the attention of three Decepticon grunts loitering nearby. “Bring him,” Wingspan demanded, pointing to the downed hulk. “Find an anti-gravity platform, if you need to, but I want him moved.” Tapping his chin thoughtfully, he stared back the way they had come, through the devastation of the East Wing cell blocks. “Back there. We’ll find a cell that still sufficiently intact to hold him for the time being. Then we’ll find out what sorts of interesting things the ex-warden can tell us about the facility he was so determined to defend.”

Garrus-9—Northern Wing

“Keep that heavy fire on ‘em, ‘Bots. Don’t let up!”

The shift leader ducked down behind the makeshift barricade they had set up to fend off the Decepticons that had fought their way this far north into the prison. It was clear by now that the Decepticons weren’t just here to break out one or even all of the prisoners currently incarcerated on Garrus: they wanted the entire facility.

Well, Camlock was going to be slagged if he let that happen on his watch, even if the ‘Cons were doing their best to obliterate Autobot morale with that holovid they had broadcast throughout the prison.

“Boss? Boss! Boss, we can’t…they’re gonna overrun us.”

“They overrun nothing!” Camlock barked. “We fight to the last man!”

He then got back to his feet and charged over the barricade, weapons blazing.
___

Garrus-9—Western Wing

A line of Autobots stood with their hands over their heads, weapons haphazardly on the ground. Among their number were guards, soldiers, engineers, technicians and a slice of nearly every kind of professional personnel that functioned within the massive prison complex. Overwhelmed, and faced with a clear choice of either submission or death, the vast majority had opted for the former. Even if only to be given the chance to resist again at some later date. For the time being, such an option would be exceedingly foolish. Decepticon grunts walked up and down the line, examining their newly-acquired prisoners while multiple Decepticons in a variety of elevated positions had their weapons trained on various points in the line—each of them just waiting for one of the captured Autobots to make one subversive move and authorize the continued use of lethal force.

“Skullgrin said to move these to the southern wing, Fleck” Jumplock said to the next nearest Decepticon. The smaller Decepticon clicked his jaw in response and pointed the end of his blaster in the opposite direction.

“My designation is ‘Mastertron–Dominator of the Antillan Spaceways’. I told you this.”

“Yeah, sure, Fleck. Just get ‘em movin’.”

Fleck clicked his jaw again.

“You heard the mech! That way! March!!!”

“’Til all are one!” an Autobot cried out, reaching for one of the discarded rifles. Before his hand could even squeeze itself around the trigger, the ‘Bot found himself riddled with a multitude of laser blasts coming from every conceivable direction. He dropped to the ground, smoke pouring from his mouth as he hit the steel surface with an unforgiving metallic clang. Fleck’s jaw clicked again as he walked over to inspect the remains even as other Autobot captives moved away, disdain and rage marking themselves clearly on many of their faces. Fleck snorted and looked at the other Autobots.

“Anyone else feeling heroic before I get the line moving again? No? Alright…MOVE!”

Semper Tyrannis: Brig

Pyro’s optics narrowed and locked on the smallest feature he could possibly track. His scanners rejected the presence of the stenographer, archivist or whichever function the small Decepticon dared to claim. He threw out small recording and security node that was located near the base of the entrance leading to the multiple celled brig section of the battleship, as it had already done its damage to the entire crew forcibly segregated from the whole of Cybertronian society. No, the ranger’s optics were focused in the opposite of direction of the main double door entrance. Passed the quartet of active cell mates, Lightspeed, Afterburner, Strafe and Brainstorm who inhabited the larger cell with their two other Autobot comrades. He looked passed the sitting Nosecone who was deep in contemplation though as with the others unresponsive to the overhead recording that had just been piped down from on high.

“Defeated?” It was the first words that escaped the proud Technobot’s vocal processor. The voice was low, so low that Pyro had a hard time even confirming he had even heard what was said. But still the Ranger’s optics were locked on the tightened jaw of the warrior commander. A tense almost rage boiled behind those locked joints as the Technobot commander balled his fist at his right side. “Fortress Maximus… beaten?” Once the others heard the confirmation, Pyro knew what was destined to happen. A wave of despair would spread through the brig, much to the delight of the Decepticons on the bridge and on the surface. Their last hopes would be dashed, and Scattershot had played right into it.

Why would Scattershot demand to know what had happened on the surface so blatantly? Had he not considered that his own crew was in a dire situation that nearly matched those that would be found on the surface? Sure they were no longer in the live fire exercise that brought them to their current state, but bound and locked away… unable to aid in the defense of those of whom they had called brethren. Pyro scowled for a moment, as he studied Scattershot for a sign, any sort of sign of knowing what the scrap he was doing. From all his efforts, all Pyro could tell was that the young unit officer was simply trying to make the entire experience worse for his troops.

Pyro pushed himself up against the wall of his cell, careful not to collapse onto Pointblank and Rad. His optics did not break their focus as he studied the now senior Autobot in the entire sector. He propped himself up by his left forearm and pulled himself to standing. Only then did he break his intense read of the Technobot and allow himself a moment of silent reflection. “Scorponok…” He finally spoke before a surprising sound began to build from the neighboring cell.

He looked up to see the shoulders of Scattershot begin to tremble. Not a vibration of terror or anger, at least not the sort that he had ever witnessed in all the brief time he had been acquainted with the former Capitan of the Farstar. His optics traced back to the face and his own brows furrowed.

Scattershot’s lip module began to curve ever so slightly upwards. It started lightly and almost silently, as it built within the depths of his spark. But soon, as the other Autobots began to register what had been delivered as their most dire news to date, it could no longer be contained. Scattershot began to laugh. It was a laugh forged in defiance and in sheer audacity as he stepped closer to the force field that separated the condemned from the Decepticon who resided outside of arms reach. “So Fishy, your commander finally accomplished an eons worth of vengeance through dishonor, treachery and sheer dumb luck. All cause he couldn’t beat Maximus in a straight fight. Guess that shows ya who the true superior one is… regardless of the outcome planet side.” Scattershot’s laugh subsided to a more controlled chuckle as he looked back up towards the node. “Those gamblers on Monicus have an old saying… Round One is in the books.”

With that Pyro watched as Scattershot turned his back to the node for the first time since getting a response. All the ranger could do was watch, nearly speechless at the reaction… perhaps inappropriate as it may have been, of Scattershot. The Technobot commander knelt down next to Strafe and Afterburner. One moment he placed a reassuring hand on the smaller flier’s shoulder to help bring the scattered mind back into alignment, with the other he delivered a brisk slap to the back of the cranial unit of the ground runner. From his vantage point Pyro could only guess what words would be delivered to the close knit group of operatives.

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing -- Cell Blocks

"Umbra you must leave Icepick their convergence will be an unholy union not many things shall stand up to him. Not me Not Scorponok it’s doubtful a Phase six ‘er will slow him down. Understand he will not be himself”

"Not to worry, Commander," was Umbra's listless reply without much feeling. Leaving Icepick behind with the Seacons left her feeling a bit disconcerted and more than a little exposed. She hid that behind a wall of apathy. It was a good defense. It worked at least. With only Bludgeon to count on to keep her alive, she had to put her faith in him. Ducking into the cell behind Bludgeon, Umbra took cover from the shots pounding into the wall nearby.

The reconnaissance agent flowed out from cover and into the darkness enveloping them as a result of the earlier the power outage. Hefting the gun that Bludgeon had given her, she followed his command, surging forward. She would prove herself to be an asset to Bludgeon rather than a hindrance. It was the least that she could go, given how the former commander of the Empirion had stuck his neck out so much for her already.

Her optics caught sight of a waving arm before she heard the voice call out. Umbra felt a chill go down her spinal column. She knew that voice. Just wonderful. Out of all of the inmates to run into, they had to bump into her. Umbra had sat in her cell and antagonized over her parting words for quite some time.

"I’m sure there will be time to get reacquainted and catch up on old times soon."

It occurred to Umbra that Airachnid had said that she was unarmed. Unarmed. But Umbra wasn't. She also had Bludgeon on her side should things go sideways. Yes, Umbra had the upperhand for once against that eight-legged freak. Lifting her blaster up, Umbra slowly approached the cell, aiming her gun at where she had seen the arm peek out from.

"Come out slowly, Airachnid," Umbra said coldly.

The agent was in no mood for games, but she couldn't open fire on a Decepticon in front of Bludgeon, however personal her grudges against Airachnid were. That was up to him. She hoped that he would chose to slag her though. Fingers were crossed. Well, those that weren't resting by the trigger of her gun.

"Commander Bludgeon," Umbra called to her newly found superior, "It's an inmate. Decepticon."

Garrus 9 – Southern Wing – Cell Blocks

“Not to worry commander”

Four words that always made the Metallikato master uneasy usually it signalled his subordinate was about to make a monumental mistake. He’d found the source of the gunfire several automatic turrets separate from the main power grid their ruins where littered around his feet smoke pouring from their former mountings. With the Monstercons found all that was needed was for them to finish rounding up the Decepticon’s left within the cells.

The Irony was not lost on Bludgeon the autobots would soon be occupying cells that once housed Decepticon troops. Cleaning his sword with consummate care he peered around the darkness he’d moved more swiftly than he meant. The possibility of finding a warrior he could duel with or at the very least have a decent warm up session was most appealing. Umbra was behind him not fair enough that he couldn’t keep an optic on her but if she found trouble he’d find out if she was ready.

However fate it seemed had another hand to play as Umbra’s voice called out

"Commander Bludgeon, It's an inmate. Decepticon."

He started back to his protégé but halted when she said the name ‘Airachnid’ another insect was this prison infested with the infernal pests. Bludgeon growled to himself as he called out to Umbra

“Ignore her Umbra the Seacons or Terrorcons can deal with her, I’ve had enough of insects today I will not repeat myself”

The Metallikato master turned and started to move on his pace steady his senses on full alert.

Garrus-9--Eastern Wing-Power Station

In the midst of such a frenzied battle, Scorponok’s words could not help but pull some of Cyclonus’ attention back to an earlier time in their history, a much earlier time. Scorponok’s musings mirrored some of Cyclonus’ own. It was only when Scorponok turned and questioned him directly that Cyclonus’ attention returned to the here and now. The question was primarily rhetorical and Cyclonus was often content to silently listen and consider the words of his superiors without forcefully interjecting his own thoughts and opinions. It had been a trait that served him well for as long as he had been a part of the Decepticon empire.

“I remember those rallies, even if my memories of anything before the war are…hazier…than I would prefer. Time, it would seem, can sometimes have a corrosive effect on even our seemingly immortal existences.”

After all, there were Cybertronians such as the Autobot Kup who seemed to display some of the characteristic signs of aging that many organic lifeforms possessed. And yet there were others, perhaps even older than Kup, who displayed no such defects. Was it time, then, that eventually wore down even the seemingly immortal Cybertronian framework? Or was it a simpler explanation, in that even an immortal being could be worn down by the toil of battle? Cyclonus did not care either way, but was curious if only for the purpose of making his fogged memories more starkly clear.

“Well before the Cyberutopians began to gain the ground they did, I remember Galvatron dispatching me to various city-states to keep tabs on the likes of Pious Maximus and others who thought to sway the opinions of the masses. They had been making political inroads for some time. Your conclusion…would make sense. The Cyberutopians had made significant headway amongst the increasingly disenchanted populace. Their message had resonance,” Cyclonus continued, watching as Fortress Maximus’ large body was transferred onto a hovercart and carried off to an area where Wingspan could continue his work. “It would not surprise me if Zeta Prime or anyone who sought to curry favor with him would work to ensure that such a voice was…transformed, if not silenced altogether.”

As Deadlock made his presence known and Scorponok addressed him in kind, Cyclonus produced a small datapad and accessed a readout displaying various Decepticons and their positions relative to Cyclonus’ own. With the central energy station of the entire facility now under their control, and their leader beaten, Cyclonus’ initial concerns about the prospects of this battle—minimal though they were—diminished even further: what lay before them now was a relatively straightforward effort of cleanup and securing their new resources, even if some of those resources would not submit to their control willingly. There would inevitably be pockets of resistance, but as Scorponok had indicated, they would crush it room by room if necessary. With Scorponok likely eager to see the captives that he had spent such a considerable effort to recapture, Cyclonus would do his part to ensure that Fortress Maximus did not suddenly undergo any kind of miraculous recovery—however unlikely that now seemed. They could afford leaving nothing to chance at this juncture.

>>”Apeface, Snapdragon—progress on your end?”<< Cyclonus transmitted as he started to follow in the direction that Wingspan and his subordinates had left with Maximus.
___

Garrus-9--Southern Wing

"If the Empirion ever gets restored to me and you survive the upcoming ordeals, find me Icepick. There shall be a place on the Empirion for Brave mechs such as yourself,” Bludgeon had responded to him. As Icepick had suspected all along, Bludgeon was definitely amongst the ranks of honorable Decepticons; a Decepticon who did not simply kill and maim for the thrill of the act. Such a commander was one that typified Icepick's original reasoning for joining the Decepticon ranks. With more Bludegeons and fewer Motormasters, peace through tyranny would become a reality someday, even if both had their part to play in ensuring that said day would come.

“Slog, Wildfly and Birdbrain are up ahead, I can hear them. I haven’t been able to hear Bristleback yet, but I am sure he is in here somewhere," Scowl said, his voice taking on a different tenor than Icepick could ever remember hearing. Such were the circumstances that they now found themselves in: it would have varying effects on all of them. Though he spoke the names of their teammates, it was not the name that was clearly on his mind. Just like with Icepick.

"You hear them. But you hear him too. That's what I'm growing increasingly afraid of," Icepick confided. If any Decepticon could understand Icepick's fears in regards to this looming and foreboding presence that scratched at the back of his conscious mind like like a caged sparkeater, it was one of his fellow Monstercons. "He will not see badges or allegiances. Surely they must know this."

Semper Tyrannis - Brig

Eeesh. By the forge of Solus Prime, had it gotten noisy in here or what? What with Scattershot making demands of Finback - not that it was going to help him any - and Afterburner and some of the other Technobots finally stirring with some renewed life in their circuits. Ah, but Firewire did love a good fierce and fiery debate. Knowing that the other side was hopelessly wrong about their views did help whenever they began to frustrate her.

Firewire just stood outside of the large cell, looking on at its inhabitants and their interactions with curiosity. More and more the others ganged up on Lightspeed for divulging some small bit of information to her. She thought that kind of hostile. It was likely nothing that Soul Siren or another couldn't have extracted with ease. This particular method just involved less pain to the captive party.

The analyst's optics drifted toward the monitor with Finback's visage as he played back a message from the field. Firewire grinned widely as she heard the news. Fortress Maximus! Beaten! This was a great victory for the Decepticons! The petite femme was about to lift her arms up in a cheer when she realized whose company she was keeping. She hastily wiped the smile off of her face and glanced furtively at the Autobots, hoping that they hadn't seen her be inconsiderate of their feelings. Would make talking to them more a bit awkward.

Firewire glanced over to the defiant Technobot commander inconspicuously. However much she didn't care to see the looks of despair and depression on the rest of the autobot's faceplates...Firewire would not deny that she indeed wanted to see Scattershot fall into the depths of depression. The mental image pleased her endlessly.

Unfortunately, this was not to be the case. Scattershot actually began to laugh. With that, Firewire was sure of her earlier hypothesis. The Technobot commander was insane. Completely and totally off his rocker. Sure, there were some who said her own grip with reality was fairly loose, but this guy...had just lost it. As any intelligent being would, Firewire ignored the crazy person.

The update of the battle on the ground had reminded Firewire of something anyway. Whipping out her data pad, she scrolled through her inventory lists for what exactly she would need. The analyst shook her head at herself. She had almost forgotten again! Bah, with these Autobots being soundly beaten, there would be a drought of her precious materials for cycles. Routing through the Decepticon Intelligence's Division's frequencies, Firewire shot a communique to Kickback on the surface.

>>"Kickback, this is Firewire. I've got a request for you. I need you to requisition some corpses for me. Preferably not nibbled on, but if you must...I need the area near the spark casing intact. Also if you could spare a few functioning diaclones...and some deceased ones...that would be much appreciated."<<

Turning her attention back to the Autobots confined in the cell, Firewire cast her optics toward the only Technobot that had decided to be particularly helpful. Afterburner had yelled something at both her and Scattershot. So that was fun.

"Hey...you. It's Lightspeed, correct? Your commander usually...uh..like this? You know, is he all there...?" Firewire asked inquisitively. She could not help but wonder...plus, all of these interactions between the team was giving her some wonderful data to work with and plug into her network later. She would have to give all of these prisoners glowing recommendations for...new cells rather than the executioner's block.


Garrus 9 - Southern Wing

Slog followed the odd tentacled thing as he began to answer his questions. He would personally rather moving away from the source of the roar, but if this way was where Icepick and Scowl were, then it was this way they went. He couldn't rightly leave two of his oldest comrades in close proximity to whatever had made that sound.

Wildfly asked about having the inhibitor claws removed - they were something of a bother - but the aquatic themed Decepticon replied that he was more acclimated to breaking things not so closely attached to fellow Decepticons. Ah, well. Perhaps Icepick could manage something. He was skilled with this sort of thing.

"What good are you then?" Bristleback grumbled out to Tentakil.

Slog suppressed a sigh. Of course then, two more robots with questionable alternate modes approached from out of the gloom. Aquatic assault team? Well. Slog couldn't rightly fault them for their alternate modes. Not when the Monstercon's alt modes looked rather...uninspired. At least these Seacons' alternate modes made some sense. The combat artist perked up at the mention of Scowl and Icepick. Soon they would all be together again.

Together...a cold chill ran down Slog's spinal column as he realized the full implications of that. Dread filled Slog. He felt him prickling at the back of his mind. Slog had hoped to never feel him there again, but he was inescapable. Relentless. Slog slipped into depression once more, his former excitement about reuniting with the others gone. These Decepticons were clearly here for them despite his earlier thoughts that this might just be a simple attack. Why else would they be corralling them together when they could be conquering the pockets of Autobots scattered throughout the prison.

Lifting his gaze to stare deeper into the gloom ahead, Slog noticed a large form moving toward them. Two glowing amber optics burned through the darkness.


The Seacon Commander listened idly to the two Monstercons converse. These whispers of Monstructor had set Snaptrap on edge. He had once heard rumors of the six who were one long ago on Cybertron. He had not put much stock into rumors, but it appeared this one had some truth to it. It was a small wonder Scorponok wished to obtain whatever secrets lie in these Monstercons' chassis. They would be a most valuable asset in the war. Especially if it could be replicated...

Snaptrap pushed his thoughts to the side as Tentakil, Seawing, and Nautilator came into view accompanied by four Monstercons. This was indeed all of the Monstercons collected safely. The Seacon Commander would confirm that they were relatively unharmed. A report to Scorponok was in order.

Approaching the group of Decepticons, Snaptrap nodded approvingly to Tentakil for a job well done. Such menial praise was rarely given. Casting his baleful amber optics onto the group of Monstercons, Snaptrap confirmed Tentakil's preliminary report. None were severely injured. Excellent. Opening up a communique directly to Scorponok himself, the Seacon Commander spoke curtly.

>>"High Commander Scorponok, this is Snaptrap. We have collected all of the Monstercons. Where would you prefer we deliver them to you?"<<

Semper Tyrannis - Brig

Brainstorm stood back from the wall and examined his work. Nearly every square inch of the cell wall within the biomechanical engineer's reach was littered with an assortment of chemical equations and a vast array of advanced arithmetic. He closed the cap on his "marker" like stylus and brushed his hands together after returning the utensil to his hip-side storage compartment.

"There! That ought to cure the processor over for a while. Now, what are all discussing?" Brainstorm asked as he turned to face the rest of his cellmates. Scattershot seemed to have moved over near his fellow Technobots while Firewire remained standing near the energy field separating the captive Autobots from the openness of freedom.

"So what are we all discussing now my fellow Gentlemechs? And…Femme.” Brainstorm asked as he approached the bundle of mechs who were standing next to the cell energy wall as he tighten the safety restraint of his signature briefcase back upon his wrist motors.

***

As Strafe came back into a more normal state, well, as close to normal as he could get anyways, he dropped his mouthplate to take another sip of the synthetic Energon the Decepticon femme graciously provided. Strange…Rather nice of a ‘Con to do such a thing. The Technobot flyer took note to keep an optic on her, could just be some kind of Decepticon trick…

Scattershot, after his little argument with the femme, walked over to Strafe’s and Lightspeed’s position and began mumbling something to the two Technobots. Strafe spat up the Energon he had in his mouth casing as he began to laugh at his commander’s quiet quip towards Firewire.

“Oh good one Sc-Scattershot! Hey-Hey, maybe that’s why she seems so fond of Brainstorm’s handy work, wouldn’t you sa-say?”

Garrus 9 – East Wing – Power Station

Of all the Decepticons to be paired up with, it just HAD to be Scourge didn’t it. Why couldn’t he just go off and do his own thing? Why does he have to be dragged down with the arrogant Sweep leader. Oh it was almost sickening the more he thought about it.

Deadlock then exited the Decepticon filled power station and made his way out through some charred wall rubble and entered into one of the emptied corridors.

>>”Deadlock to Scourge; I need a location of where you’re at, I’ve got orders to assist you in clearing out the cell blocks from Scorponok himself.”<<

***

>>"I'm here...Commander. I've collected quite a few useful components for m- for the Decepticon cause."<<

It’s about time he replied, Banzai-tron thought as he pictured what the DSS agent was currently up to. Gathering scrap metal…AGAIN. Banzai-tron had a habit of collecting weapons and other valuables during a firefight as well, but he at least he knew when the mission was more of a priority than his subordinate seemed to think. At least the master of crystallocution was out and helping furthering the efforts of Scorponok’s plan, not hiding away in the prison complex stocking up on some new inventory.

>>”Drop what you’re doing Gutcruncher. Your little scrap metal stock can wait until this crusade is over. I’ve got an agent down and I need you to take his position. Meet me at the East Wing Power Station, we’ve got work to do.”<<