The Energon Pub

Garrus 9 – Amphitheatre

Nosecone felt horrible. The abuse he had gotten from the Cons would not go unanswered but he would leave the timing to his crazy commander Scattershot. He tried to stall as long as he could and all he got was a missing arm, thrown against the wall, and now strapped to the table along with his fellow Technobots and a few others to his surprise. The good thing was the team was back together. The bad thing was each was strapped to a table with little way of getting off especially with the high and mighty arachnid towering over everyone, as usual. He then open up the very secure line he and his fellow Technobots shared.

>>It seems some of the pieces are coming together. Scorponok wants to create another Monstructor with the help of Jhilaxus and we all know the old scientist will be tossed to the recycle bin once Scorpy is done with him. It also looks like some of the pieces are other Cons with one being a Seacon and the other a Terrorcon. The Monstercons are all here as well with a decent amount of damage due to my guess a very recent battle. I do wonder what sort of marker those two are talking about since we all have it as well as the Seacons and Terrorcons. The only commonality I know the Terrorcons have is eating other Cybertronians for the sheer pleasure of it and maybe out of actual hunger. As for the Seacons, the only common thing is their shared interest in liquid based creatures and missions. At least the Seacons have more control over their bestial side than the Terrorcons. So how do we fit in this mess those two are cooking up?<<


Mines

Seawing watched as the Terrorcons took the Technobots away and back towards the main part of the base. Whatever the plan was with them, he hoped a lot of pain and suffering would be a part of it before they extinguished the sparks of the troublesome group. This allowed him to observe that some of the other prisoners have walked off. Seawing didn't trust the bugs to keep the Autobots out of trouble since they always trying to find their next new hive and from what he can observe they are trying really hard on making the mines their next target.

"Commander Snaptrap, I've noticed a few Autobots have went missing. At least with the Terrorcons taking the Technobots to wherever, they have lessen the crowd and stink even if we still have to deal with the hundreds of bugs. I'm going to see if I can find our missing prisoners and to make sure they are doing what they should be."

Garrus-9 -- Amphitheater

Rippersnapper could smell Blot approaching before he had even gotten within ten feet of the amphibious shark monster or Sinnertwin. The ooze that leaked from Hun-grrr’s little suck-up had a powerful stench that few could ignore even the other Terrorcons who didn’t exactly keep themselves spotless, either. Still, they smelled far better than their dimwitted comrade in arms. And Blot’s intelligence was lacking just as much as his hygiene, unable to comprehend what the others in the room were saying.

Letting out a deep sigh, the former actor turned to look over at his smelly teammate, trying to keep his distance from the leaking lubricants at the same time. “Yes, Blot, apparently we Terrorcons have some kind of gene-marker inside ourselves that will allow us to combine like Monstructor. Although, hopefully, we won’t be as out-of-control. Heh. Not sure exactly how it works, but I’m sure Jhiaxus will figure it out given time. That's why Cutthroat is on a berth as well as Nautilator over there. The Seacons have the same gene-marker, too, from what I could gather.”

Rippersnapper’s attention was then drawn over to Sinnertwin, whose comments had not fallen on deaf audios. “Indeed, we would be a near unstoppable force to be reckoned with! No one could stand in our way! Heh, except maybe another combiner, but I'm sure we'd still be the most powerful of them all!" The terrorist paused for a brief moment before continuing. "Hmmm...I wonder what our combined name would be. Any ideas, Sinner?”

Garrus 9 – Amphitheater

While the monstrous Decepticon leader could understand Slog's blight, he showed little compassion beyond a passing look on his face which could have been caught only by a bystander who'd have glanced at him at that particular moment. They had gone beyond the point of return, there was no option to turn back left – there hadn't been in a lifetime it felt like. Only winning the war mattered now, the realization of the dream that had given life to the whole Decepticon cause.

“You were given a burden you cannot bear. This will not be the case with the future of combining Cybertronians,” Scorponok stated. Making sure the Autobot captives could not see what he was about to show to the Monstercon leader, Scorponok brought up a holoscreen before Slog's optics, showing him the design schematics of Monstructor. “As you can see, you are being upgraded as we speak.”

The holoscreen briefly highlighted a number of differences compared to their original build.

“While the original process cannot be undone, your neural buffers can be upgraded. You will be able to resist losing control more and I will be able to force you to separate through new remote controlled safety inhibitors,” Scorponok continued, making an effort to assure Slog that the situation would be different from before.

While Scorponok would prefer to win the Monstercons' trust and cooperation, he had no interest in a weapon he couldn't control either. All he said he'd have done with or without their acceptance. It was a burden he would have to carry as a leader. Another sin added to a long list without no end to see in the horizon. He would have complete control. Their full obedience and the ability to bring a rampaging combiner down into its component pieces on a whim. There really was no another option.

Yet, there was another thing the Monstercons deserved to know. They had suffered long enough. The information would not sooth them. It could even break them. But it would allow them a chance of mending their mental scars. For Scorponok had seen deeper into what made a combiner on technical level than any of the Monstercons themselves. He had studied them, he had studied Jhiaxus' notes and schematics. What he did not know was how the Monstercons experienced the combining. But unlike them, he understood the science behind it.

“However, the truth you do not wish to hear is this: You are Monstructor. All six of you. He is a manifestation of your pain, your darker desires, the differences between the six of you – combined into one, amplified and focused by Jhiaxus' dark sciences. What you should ask is this; how well did you know your own companions before you volunteered? How well did you know yourself? Jhiaxus provided you the means but he did not create Monstructor.”

Scorponok's optics flashed forebodingly. It was the truth, however bad it would sound to Slog's audio receptors. True, for some twisted reason Jhiaxus had chosen to amplify their negative emotions but he had not originated them. The Monstercons had.

“You did.”

Garrus 9 – Amphitheater

The look on Scorponok’s face told Slog practically everything that he needed to know. It was too late to turn back. It was too late for any of them. Not for the first time, Slog was glad that he had a mouthplate. It helped to hide some of his sorrow. His disappointment. His optics drifted off to the side before his attention was captured by the holoscreen that the Decepticon leader held before his optics. An upgraded schematic. The differences were highlighted.

Slog’s optics flicked back up to look into Scorponok’s red visor. Hm. Despite the monstrous Decepticon’s assurances, Slog could not help but feel…skeptical. Yet Scorponok’s concern was…touching. For what it was worth. Slog had met far less compassionate leaders. “Thank you, Lord Scorponok.” Slog managed after a moment.

Slog assumed that Scorponok would leave after that. But instead, he had something more to tell him. Something more to say. A truth. One that…Slog didn’t know quite how to grasp. He listened both wanting to shut the Decepticon lord’s words out and forcing himself to listen. Scorponok’s optics flashed. The blow came.

“We…did…?”

It hit Slog harder than…he ever thought it could. For so long…he had blamed their waking nightmare on Jhiaxus. The Monstercons had volunteered for the process, certainly, but…he didn’t…they couldn’t have known what would happen. Jhiaxus had seemed to. He was the one who understood the science. He had been the one to blame…until now. A mistake. One that…had haunted them since the Golden Age. More than four million years of anguish. They were responsible. The Monstercons. They had done this to themselves.

”No…” Slog mumbled woefully. His restrained fists could only clench futilely. He turned his head to the side and offlined his optics. Slog could hear the faint echoes of Monstructor’s laughter rattling off the inside of his head. Echoing. Amber optics of malevolence that he could not escape even when he offlined his optics stared through the darkness at him as a sneer twisted the monster’s face.

It was too much to take.

Garrus 9 – Mines

>>"Err- almost got- gah! Hello? Did I get it? Snaptrap you there? I'm in that room we were in earlier with the old guy. The uh... Appti- Amplifier... Oh! Amphitheater! Yes, that's it. Amphitheater. I keep hearing things like *tests* and *combine* being tossed around, no idea what the connection between them means."<<

>>”I see…”<< Snaptrap replied only to give Nautilator some form of acknowledgement. Unlike Nautilator, Snaptrap had made the connection between the words ‘tests’ and ‘combine’. It seemed like his suspicions were confirmed. Nautilator had been chosen. It was for the best. He would be of minimal use down here in the mines. The Butcher’s optics flicked down to Seawing as his subordinate once again demanded his attention.

"Commander Snaptrap, I've noticed a few Autobots have went missing. At least with the Terrorcons taking the Technobots to wherever, they have lessen the crowd and stink even if we still have to deal with the hundreds of bugs. I'm going to see if I can find our missing prisoners and to make sure they are doing what they should be."

“Go, Seawing,” he replied dismissively, “Do what you have to in order to keep them in line, but do not kill them.” Folding his arms over his chest, the Seacon Commander gazed dutifully out at the thinning group of prisoners around him. They were moving off deeper into the mines and away from his constant watch. Goldrush was observing the Insecticons. Perhaps it was time for a report. With Seawing given his task, Snaptrap moved away, walking deeper into the mines.

>>”Goldrush, report in. What is the status of the Insecticons?”<<


Amphitheater

Blot may not have been the brightest bulb, but his insecurity made sure that no insult was missed. Even if he couldn’t understand all of them. The deep sigh that Rippersnapper issued was certainly an insult, or at least Blot certainly took it that way. And he just repeated the information in a confusing way all over again! Blot’s monster form clenched its enormous fists, ready to strike at Rippersnapper, having a bit too much of his snide attitude for one day.

Fortunately for him, Sinnertwin cut in with his own comment, which distracted Blot for long enough for some of the heat of his anger to dissipate. More on this…combining business. Blot still didn’t get it. But being the most powerful sounded good to him. If Master Hun-Grr liked the idea, then that was enough for Blot. Rippersnapper was going on about name suggestions for their combined form.

“Uh…How bout…Hungrrtron? Or Terrorcon! Just one big one.”

Garrus-9--Corridors

"My loyalty to the cause is still strong. My issue lies with the uncovered fossil in there and his... His... *experiments* on our fellow Decepticons."

Kickback's mandibles clicked several times. Several of the other diaclones' did as well.

This one was troubled. No doubt about it.

"I know we are at war... I know war is not the cleanest thing in this universe and more often than not it's the dirtiest of players who end up winning...but he experimented on innocent mechs long before our war broke out! And now he's back in there cutting Autobots and Decepticons up for some other project he's got planned."

My my my. This one was sounding more and more like an anti-war sympathizer. An unfortunate trait for such a skilled warrior.

"I say we just put them out of their misery. Had to do it to hundreds of mechs now, why let them be any different?"

Ahhhh, so that was really the heart of the matter. This one did not possess the struts for the challenging measures which now needed to be taken in order to ensure their victory.

"You know why," Kickback said darkly. "You saw why in the prison cells, just as we did. Why would Lord Scorponok turn back now when he is so close?"

Deadlock had moved further away. Kickback, for the moment, merely watched, his compound optics taking in the warrior's every move.

"Megatron's will demands all. Nothing is above sacrifice to the war machine. Not the Monstercons. Not anyone you care about. Nothing. Victory is all. Peace...through tyranny."

Kickback was curious to see how that went over.

Garrus 9 – Amphitheatre

From the medbay proper Kornus followed Firewire towards the Amphitheatre where Lord Scorponok and his contingent were gathered.

From what he could tell the mini-mite was required and thus he was in tow.

For a runt the little oil stain was quick. Kronus picked up his pace in order to keep up with Firewire’s momentum.

The duo entered the Amphitheatre but the thief was promptly left behind while his escort made her way to the gargantuan Decepticon Commander. Not in any way willing to draw attention to him, Kronus ducked out of the line of Scorponok’s sight.

With a low hiss Kronus slipped away and set a course toward Firewire and the hunchback….what was his name again…Jax? No that wasn’t it. Jhiaxus! That was it. He recalled hearing about the ancient scientist, but as far as he knew the mech had vanished. Clearly that was false.

He stopped his advance when the noticed several occupied circuit slabs. Six to be precise. And the mechs looked a little familiar. They were prisoners, that much he knew, but just who they were exactly…he’d have to get a closer look.

Kronus slunk toward the nearest slab halting short as he refused to interrupt Scorponok’s and the mech’s conversation. Of course that didn’t mean he’d have to shut down his audios.

The ‘Con speaking…now he recalled why he recognized him. Slog. A smile formed on the thief’s face as he thought about the last time he’d come across one of the artist’s pieces. Of course it hadn’t been in his possession for long, but the time he did have it he quite enjoyed its complexity.

From Slog Kronus scanned the other restrained mechs. Yes, he recognized a few of them. In fact one or two of them was present in the Southern yard when that cretin approached him. A deep frown formed on the slim mech’s face.

Well, once he has the opportunity he’ll have to introduce himself. It’s the polite thing to do, after all.

Garrus-9 Central--Amphitheatre

Everything was coming together...or, in many cases, apart...quite nicely. The gladiator had provided the perfect, secure with which to continue his work and the Autobots, well, they had unintentionally provided the actual space in which to do so. Conveniently enough, it had been his own prison lo these countless vorns.

Hmm...no, they weren't countless at all. In fact, Jhiaxus had counted every single one during his tortuously arduous sentence.

And yet, he would prove to be a giving visionary. He would deny them the deaths they had so rightfully earned. They would live on as engines of his creation.

The ancient praetor's field of optical vision was filled with an assortment of scans, each piece of equipment monitoring the dissection and reconstruction process of the various subjects he had taken into custody thus far. As had been suggested he kept his primary focus on the Autobots that had been provided to him. And now that he had access to them all, my weren't they proving to be quite the technological marvels. They clearly had not wasted the immortality that had been bestowed upon their kind. They were a cut above, functionally speaking, anything that Jhiaxus had ever witnessed in his day. The being they would form would be a marvel of precision and fluidity.

Upon the confines of his slab, Lightspeed was barely recognizable--the assortment of equipment at the scientist's disposal having effectively vivisected the entire machine. They would be reassembled just as they were...with a few critical modifications.

"Why.....can't we......have worked together...for....something......better?" Lightspeed wheezed out, barely able to sustain the energy necessary to speak. Jhiaxus turned away from his screens momentarily, looking down at the beleaguered Technobot.

"Oh but we are working together. You and I. Your friends there. Your enemies...there. All of us. Until all are one," Jhiaxus said, his aged features becoming darkened. "You will see."

Garrus-9--Mines

"Her name is Amaranth...She was brought down during the initial incursion. She was a medic on board the Sundered Heart."

Pointblank couldn't help but smirk a little at the name. "The Sundered Heart"? It sounded a little...Decepticon-y. Or if he had enough shanix to his name to buy his own ship, he might've given it that name. It's certainly how he felt sometimes after fighting this war for this long. He wouldn't scoff too much. Suddenly findign themselves within reach of a fully-trained medical officer who wasn't also potentially trying to kill them was a nice change.

"It is good to see you as well Pointblank. Its been a bit, since the small skirmish on that energy syphon on Nebulos I believe."

"Yeah....that world. What a loss. Those creatures never knew what hit them until it was too late. Last I heard, their leader was actually trying to help Scorponok. Too bad he's not gonna realize his destiny until its time to be turned into pink slime."

Or any other assortment of "uses" that the Decepticon science wing had found for organic life these days.

He listened quietly as Pyro explained what exactly he and this Amaranth were up to in the most inconspicuous means possible.

"...If we discover this conduit junction... it opens another avenue for bettering our current predicament."

"Well, we're sitting at an awkward middle ground. There's a lot of scenarios whereby we could improve our situation. There's a lot of others whereby we can make it worse."

He cast an askew glance in the direction where Whirl had last been causing a commotion.

"As least Whirl's been quiet for, what now...a breem? Two?"

Garrus 9 – Amphitheater

There was nothing Scorponok could do to help Slog or the other Monstercons who might have listened to the two speaking. For now at least, they needed to face their own demons. Once they'd be ready to speak, he would listen and schedule each of them and Deadlock an appointment with Synapse, in case the walking disaster had managed to recover from his last accident which had involved a power cord, a maintenance sign before an open service hatch and a near decapitation.

Synapse aside, watching Jhiaxus work on the Technobots was an enlightening experience. It would have certainly helped their cooperation if the ancient scientist had bothered to explain what he was doing but at least Jhiaxus was not covering the data, allowing Scorponok to memorize, study and draw his own conclusions. And one had become quite clear within the last few kliks. It was time to install those safety measures. The Monstercons really did not need much more attention anymore. Same couldn't be said for the Technobots but they would get theirs as well. A private com-link was required for that.

>>“Firewire. See that Jhiaxus does not make the oversight of ignoring my plans. Each and every Monstercon and Technobot are to be fitted with the safety inhibitors of my design. This task falls to you to supervise and perform.”<<

Having given Firewire new orders, Scorponok walked over to Jhiaxus who was looming over Lightspeed at that particular moment, “Jhiaxus. I see that they are compatible. How long until you can begin operating them? The longer we stay on this moon, the greater security risk it becomes.”

Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

>>”Excellent. Proceed to quarantine it. I don't want anyone going in or out without my authorization. As for the phase sixer wreck we collected, are Overlord's life signs stable? I'd prefer to keep him alive if that is possible."<<

For Scorponok's first order of business, Reflector had already anticipated what would be expected with capturing a prize such as this. Accordingly, quarantine procedures had been initiated as soon as the Rig was secured within the cargo hold. For the second, however, Reflector had not given any thought to the matter. It made sense nonetheless.

He brought up a new holoscreen and quickly accessed the medibay readings. That Warrior Elite had always given Reflector a case of the surges. Like the Terrorcons, it was difficult to ascertain if one would walk away from an encounter with them alive. Even a casual encounter, if there were such things when it came to those types of Decepticons. To see a mechanoid like that in this condition, well, it was unnerving in its own right.

>>"All signs are presently holding, my lord. For a Decepticon of his...durability, the damage he sustained is practically beyond our abilities to measure. Will the resources of the Tyrannis be enough to restore him?"<<
___

Garrus-9 Central--Command Center Ruins

At every turn, Cyclonus had been thwarted in his efforts. Either there was nothing to salvage from the charred husks that remained within this particularly hard=hit area of the prison, or what could be retrieved provided no further insight into what had caused to communications disruption.

Vexing, to say the least.

"Commander, sir, I have been, um....unable to retrieve any of what you had asked for," Sparkstalker said, having approached the purple warrior but now trying to look anywhere other than directly into the other mech's optics as he delivered his own disappointing report.

"So be it. Dismissed," Cyclonus said coldly, before reopening a transmission with Scorponok. He had come at this problem from every angle he could think of. But they had done a good job of destroying the critical areas of the prison. Perhaps too good.

>>"My lord....we have.......failed....in our efforts to uncover any additional data regarding the communications blockage. Sparkstalker and the others have been able to retrieve nothing from the ruins of the command center."<<

Semper Tyrannis – Medical Ward

“Mmm…” Synapse moaned softly from within a CR chamber. “What…what happened?” The door to the chamber hissed open as the nanite-rich fluid finished draining from it. The psychotherapist grasped the edge of the chamber weakly, glancing around the empty medical ward. “That’s odd…There’s usually someone here…I wonder how long I was out this time.”

Stumbling out of the chamber uncertainly, Synapse cloaked his body with his metallic wings and walked over to a terminal. He pulled up his most recent medical records, skipping past his prior unfortunate encounters involving the oil reserve, and malfunctioning magnalocks. It seemed this one…was about a power cord…and an open service hatch? Oh dear. That seemed dreadfully thoughtless of him. He simply remembered walking down a corridor, minding his own business.

Well, now that that mystery was solved…On to the current situation. Last Synapse could recall, they had been docked at Nebulos prior to a large operation against the Autobot stronghold and penitentiary Garrus-9. Had that transpired yet? He would have to scroll through the field reports…Where…Synapse tapped away at the console until the information was displayed for him. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully at these new revelations.

“Ah ha! We’ve done it already?! Good show, Lord Scorponok, good show. I’d expect nothing less from our commander,” Synapse chuckled to himself cheerfully, “Though…it seems Garrus fell with its own surprises…Omega Supreme…Oh, Overlord graced us with his presence, did he? But fell to Omega Supreme…That’s moderately surprising. I had thought one of the Warriors Elite might have been able to fell that titan…Though it could be that Overlord fell more to one of his own weaknesses rather than anything else. Who’s to say?”

“Hm…Lord Scorponok can’t be pleased that Omega Supreme escaped…We’re on borrowed time now. But it seems we did get what we came for…” Synapse deactivated the terminal and moved toward the exit. “I should let him know that I’ve returned to active duty. For how long that lasts this time, anyway.”

>>”Lord Scorponok?”<< Synapse began as he opened the channel, >>”Ah, yes, Synapse reporting to tell you that I’ve made a full recovery. As you know, my most recent…ah…accident prevented our appointment, and I know you must be busy now…But I simply must insist that you do come to see me when you have a moment.”<<

That task accomplished, Synapse continued through the enormous corridors of the Semper Tyrannis in search of a certain laboratory.

A Certain Laboratory

The doors to the lab hissed open as the avian Decepticon stuck his head into the room cautiously. “Lobe? Are you in here by chance? Old friend?” Synapse stepped inside with an incredible amount of caution trying to keep his limbs firmly tucked beneath his wings, which served as a kind of cloak. “I’m coming inside,” he called.

And he did, but he stood a good deal away from the work benches and equipment scattered about. Many of his experiences with death’s door had come in this one room, it didn’t pay to tempt fate. Also Lobe could be quite cross if one of his accidents destroyed his equipment or specimens as it so often did. That was the primary reason that Synapse attempted to keep to himself. He simply felt terrible if his atrocious luck hindered his long-time friend and companion.

“Hm…I wonder if he’s gone down to the planet…” Synapse murmured thoughtfully.

Garrus 9 – Amphitheatre

Stupid. Old. Ancient. Egotistical. Brilliant. Annoying. Irritating. A bastard. Crazy. Eeeeeeeviiiiiil. Insane. Arrogant. Functionalist. Elitist. Pig. Pompous. Ahh..hm. What else? Firewire wracked her brain for another adjective. She’d gone through a bunch of them over the past breem. It could be a struggle not to repeat herself and still get the negative connotations that she was looking for in her adjectives.

>>“Firewire. See that Jhiaxus does not make the oversight of ignoring my plans. Each and every Monstercon and Technobot are to be fitted with the safety inhibitors of my design. This task falls to you to supervise and perform."<<

The sudden command from the most eminent Scorponok made Firewire nearly leap out of her armor plating. She glanced over to him as he began to move over to herself and Jhiaxus. Right now, Jhiaxus was fiddling with the Technobots…and no one seemed to be fooling with the Monstercons…Her optics narrowed as she spotted Kronus near one of them. Well, no one important.

Firewire, all too happy to leave the ancient praetor’s side, hurried over to the Monstercons, scowling at Kronus as she did so. Alright. Who first? Did it matter? It didn’t really matter. She pulled up the designs for the Scorponok’s safety measures on her data pad. Hm. Alright. Moving over to Slog, she lowered his slab so that she could more easily access his bodily bits.

“Hey there! Name’s Firewire and I’m gonna be putting in some safety measures for when you go RAHR IMMA MONSTER! Won’t hurt. Cross my spark and hope to die,” she quipped cheerily.

”Kill me…”

“Huh? What was that?”

“Kill me, please. I…I cannot…” Slog weakly pulled at his restraints.

“Ummm……” Firewire looked around for help. What had happened to this guy?! Lord Scorpy had been talking to him earlier, right? What had he said to upset this mech so much? Well. She couldn’t kill him. They needed him alive. “Noooo…can do….” Firewire managed uncomfortably. “Weeeeeeeeell…I’m gonna go ahead and do the thing now.”

She grabbed a scalpel from the tray next to the prone Monstercon and set about disabling his pain receptors. Slog looked at her with a pained expression before turning his head away. Firewire cringed and glanced at Kronus, mouthing very obviously at him, ’DO SOMETHING’, before turning back to her work.

The orange and black scientist opened Slog up for the second time in the span of several breems. Two arms extended from her back and, with their three incredibly delicate digits, dug into the tighter sections of the Monstercon while Firewire worked with her actual hands to simultaneously complete another task. This multitasking trait was extremely necessary for her work with sparks. At times, she would need to alter or manipulate several subsystems within the patient simultaneously simply in order to prevent their death.

Of course, doing this required quite a degree of concentration from the chatty femme. While she immersed herself in her work, Firewire was silent, nothing running through her head except for the task at hand.

Garrus 9 – Mines

"You know we haven't actually worked on anything together like this."

“Hm?” Highbrow asked as the pair of scientists continued deeper into the mines.

"I mean, I'm not usually one for group projects to begin with. (Mostly because I can think of twice the ideas per astrocycle than say someone like, eh... Like Skyfall) But even with the committees commissioning the entire R&D department on something, I don't believe we've actually shared a workbench."

“I can’t recall working with yourself either…Hm. I understand your hesitance regarding group projects. It is not often one can match the level of my acumen. I absolutely dread working with vacuous scientists without an authentic thought in their cranium,” Highbrow huffed.

"I know for sure you and I were stationed at Kimia together, ya know before you were relocated to the Nebulos team and I to the Farstar and all. Was there anywhere else?"

“Hm…Well…There was a certain place that we worked together. The New Institute,” Highbrow recollected thoughtfully. “But…that was quite some time ago.” Highbrow frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. The New Institute. That brought back some memories. Not all of them pleasant either. “I believe that was where we first met. Fortunately, Chromedome does not have the displeasure of being in our current predicament.”

As the pair descended deeper into the mines’ depths, Highbrow glanced about uncertainly. “Ah, Brainstorm…are you quite sure of our heading?”

Garrus 9 – Amphitheatre

Kronus perked up slightly when he noticed Firewire nearly jump out of her armor. He caught her glare and smirked while wiggling his fingertips. His smirk faded as he watched her approach the Monstercons….yes that was it. By Primus his mind was slag.

Kronus shook his head as he made his way, slowly, to where the mini mite was. It seemed as though she had chosen her first target, and it just so happened to be the same ‘Con he had wanted to introduce himself to. He smiled broadly and worked his way to Slog’s slab, right beside the little femme.

Unfortunately he arrived at the berthside in time to witness the artist turn away from Firewire who quickly cringed and glanced at the thief. Her mouthing ’DO SOMETHING’ caught him a bit off guard. Kronus looked from Firewire and down at the forlorn Monstercon. He smiled as he laid a hand on Slog’s shoulder.

“Your work….it was a privilege to even set my optics on it.” He gently patted Slog as he walked around the slab so he could easily look at the Monstercon in the eyes. “I imagine your life here was abhorrent. Not unlike my own.” He sighed heavily. “Unable to create…”

Kronus rubbed his chin as he stared down at Slog. “I’ve acquired several of your pieces in the past.” He chuckled lightly but quieted rather swiftly. “I have to say, they kept me comfortable for several meta-cycles, and then some.”

The thief squatted down so he was now face to face with the restrained Slog. “I’m interested in one particular sculpture…” Kronus smirked. “It was mesmerizing. Deep. Thought provoking. It's colored a heavenly blue with flames adorning its sides. I had always hoped to see it again. Have you an idea of where it might be now?”

A Certain Laboratory

A soft humming and light clinking of glass echoed lightly throughout the lab. The area was stocked full of equipment with a seemingly never ending store of testing materials. And sometimes he was even graced with a live test subject or two. Bu that hadn’t occurred in quite some time. Bit of a shame really.

He began entering the collected data into the terminal he was seated at while he began his second tear down.

The scientist had only gotten halfway through when he heard something.

“Lobe? Are you in here by chance? Old friend?"

Lobe’s optics widened in surprise. He stood up from his terminal but waited a moment. Perhaps he was wrong and it wasn’t….

“I’m coming inside,"

“Synapse.” Lobe said with a low groan. His shoulders slumped as he began to work his way out into the lab.

He’d known Synapse for a very long time. He was a good mech, a bit confused but still respectable. But there was one thing that seemed to work against the mech.

“Hm…I wonder if he’s gone down to the planet…"

Lobe made his way behind Synapse but made absolutely sure neither of them was near anything important. The last thing he needed was to frighten the psychoanalyst and have him tear the lab apart.

“No, Synapse. I’ve not gone to the planet.” He said softly as he moved around the other mech. “I’m inside finishing up on my last experiment. Sadly, this is my only remaining module so you’ll forgive me if I ask you to keep your distance.”

That said Lobe gestured for the cyber-owl to follow him inside. Lobe was still busy working on the brain module while he also guided his friend to a seat out of harm’s way.

“It’s good to see you in relatively good shape again. Your last encounter….” He shook his head while he too took a seat. “I believe it was the closest you came to actually losing your head.” He chuckled lightly. “The last time was just slightly less messy.”

His chuckling died down as he looked at his friend. “Something troubling you, old friend?”

Garrus-9 Central--Amphitheatre

“Jhiaxus. I see that they are compatible. How long until you can begin operating them? The longer we stay on this moon, the greater security risk it becomes."

The words again. The words of this gladiator were beginning to fray the edges of Jhiaxus' patience. Could he not simply leave the praetor to do his work and return when it was finished in order to inspect the final results?! No, it would seem not. Jhiaxus would find himself burdened by this warrior's prattle for the duration of the gestalts' construction. He had little doubts of that now.

"The preliminary procedures begin as we speak," Jhiaxus said, indicating the equipment that was already beginning its work on the assembled Technobots, just as it had done on the Monstercons before them and the many that would follow in their impressive footsteps. "The process should run smoothly, eh heheh. Eh. You are fortunate that I have done this work before. Successfully. Gifted though my apprentice was, it is apparent that in the many vorns since my confinement, no one was able to replicate my work. Unfortunate for them. Fortunate for you. You will soon have all the tools you require to win this petty war and usher forth a new Golden Age."

Where all are one.

Jhiaxus' jade optics returned to the screens in front of him. One screen in particular held the overall layout of what Jhiaxus would use these Technobots to create: a computational masterpiece unlike anything Primus himself had ever created. A being that could contemplate the infinity of the universe and derive a functional result. Yes. It would be glorious.

Garrus 9 – Amphitheater

"The preliminary procedures begin as we speak," Jhiaxus said, indicating the equipment that was already beginning its work on the assembled Technobots, just as it had done on the Monstercons before them and the many that would follow in their impressive footsteps. "The process should run smoothly, eh heheh. Eh. You are fortunate that I have done this work before. Successfully. Gifted though my apprentice was, it is apparent that in the many vorns since my confinement, no one was able to replicate my work. Unfortunate for them. Fortunate for you. You will soon have all the tools you require to win this petty war and usher forth a new Golden Age."

Arrogant fool. That was the most prominent thought on Scorponok's mind after Jhiaxus finished his answer to the Decepticon leader's question. The disparaging tone in Jhiaxus' reply was evident to a vigilant listener. To brush aside their war as petty? Jhiaxus knew nothing about how much they had suffered both before the revolution or after, nor did he care. And it was infuriating to see this ancient fool to belittle them in his false sense of superiority over everyone else. Calling Monstructor a success was stretching the truth. And yet, it was undeniable that Jhiaxus held the keys of creating these superweapons Scorponok sought. But perfect they were not.

“Good. Continue,” Scorponok spoke up.

”You should not sell your apprentice short. He and his peers from the Academy of Advanced Technology have reached much,” Scorponok continued, his optics scanning over the Technobots, “Though these five hardly deserve the name they have chosen for their team. Technobots. What did you ever achieve on your own? Perceptor, Jetfire, Wheeljack, Ironfist. There has always been someone else behind your technology.”

>>"All signs are presently holding, my lord. For a Decepticon of his...durability, the damage he sustained is practically beyond our abilities to measure. Will the resources of the Tyrannis be enough to restore him?"<<

A report from Reflector regarding Overlord. Excellent. The phase sixer would live on but could not return back to functionality on his own. Although Reflector did seem to have problems providing accurate information. No matter, Overlord needed Scorponok now. He would become indebted. Scorponok found himself smiling. All the better for him.

>>”Our resources are plentiful. Keep him sustained for now.”<<

An another report reached Scorponok's audio receptors shortly after his response to Reflector. This time it was Cyclonus, his most capable lieutenant. And the news he provided were not welcome.

>>"My lord....we have.......failed....in our efforts to uncover any additional data regarding the communications blockage. Sparkstalker and the others have been able to retrieve nothing from the ruins of the command center."<<

>>”Then have your troops scour the facility for remaining Autobots! Who else could have done this?!”<< Scorponok practically bellowed into the communicator, >>”I want the culprits found and crushed!”<<

Calming down some Scorponok addressed Cyclonus again. >>”Not that they matter much longer. We are on a brink of a breakthrough here. It is time to start relocating our forces back to the ships. I have no use for this moon beyond leaving a squadron to keep watch here and keeping the mines operational until Autobots make a push to take Garrus back. And when they do they will up for a surprise. Scorponok out.”<<

>>”Lord Scorponok?"<< Synapse began as he opened the channel, >>”Ah, yes, Synapse reporting to tell you that I’ve made a full recovery. As you know, my most recent…ah…accident prevented our appointment, and I know you must be busy now…But I simply must insist that you do come to see me when you have a moment."<<

Yet another comm-link. This time from Synapse. A mech many Decepticons within the 2nd Fleet called their conscience. It was good that he had found his way back to book of the functioning but this was hardly a proper time for an appointment. Not by a long shot. A reply however was a proper thing to do.

>>”It is good to hear your voice old friend but this is not the time. However I have a request to make. Deadlock is need of your attention. I was forced to send Kickback to talk to him instead of you due to your unfortunate accident. You should check up with them both as soon as you can. We will talk… later.”<<

Lobe’s Laboratory

“No, Synapse. I’ve not gone to the planet."

Synapse jumped slightly, startled a bit by the voice suddenly coming from behind him. He turned, giving his old companion a warm smile in greeting.

“I’m inside finishing up on my last experiment. Sadly, this is my only remaining module so you’ll forgive me if I ask you to keep your distance."

“But of course, I wouldn’t want to be in your way,” Synapse replied cheerily. He followed Lobe deeper into the lab to see his other half hard at work on what appeared to be a brain module. He was curious and wanted to take a closer look…but the Lobe at his side was guiding him to a seat out of harm’s way. It would be rude to refuse. Moving over to the chair, he looked at Lobe as he began to speak again.

“It’s good to see you in relatively good shape again. Your last encounter…." Lobe shook his head while he too took a seat. “I believe it was the closest you came to actually losing your head." He chuckled lightly. “The last time was just slightly less messy."

“Don’t remind me…At least I have no recollection of my misfortune this time. Cranial trauma has its advantages at the very least,” Synapse chuckled.

“Something troubling you, old friend?"

“Oh, no! Just struggling to catch up again. It seems much has happened in my absence.” Synapse rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he began to take a seat. In that moment, however, he received a transmission from Lord Scorponok.

>>”It is good to hear your voice old friend but this is not the time. However I have a request to make. Deadlock is need of your attention. I was forced to send Kickback to talk to him instead of you due to your unfortunate accident. You should check up with them both as soon as you can. We will talk… later."<<

>>”Oh dear, you sent him to Kickback? I shall check with them with utmost haste, my friend, but I too-

As Synapse responded to Scorponok, he sat down on the seat that Lobe had so graciously provided. Only for it to groan under him. Synapse’s optics widened in an instant of realization. The chair collapsed under him, sending the psychotherapist tumbling across the floor in a flurry of wings and limbs. A bolt from the chair rocketed out and struck a rack of vials above the working Lobe.

Synapse hastily picked himself up in hopes of stopping events before they progressed further, but he could only watch as the rack tipped over drenching Lobe’s specimen in unknown chemical substances. He rushed forward frantically in the hopes of salvaging his error. In his haste, however, he failed to notice the horrid chain of events beginning to shower down from the shelves above.

Glass vials shattered on the cyber-owl, splashing their contents across his frame. And…he began to smoke. And hiss. The chemicals were reacting with his armor plating. It burned. Nevertheless, Synapse looked sheepishly at the Lobe whom he had disturbed. “Oh, I’m so terribly sorry, old friend. I…I shall go to the chemical shower now…”

His shoulders slumped and the cheer visibly diminished from his frame, Synapse trudged away toward the by now very familiar shower station. He resumed his transmission with Lord Scorponok, after having cut off abruptly in the beginning of his episode. When he spoke, his tone was a touch more glum.

>>”Forgive me…I’ve had another incident. Nothing that will prevent me from completing your request. As I was saying, however, I would like to make a request of you too, Lord Scorponok. If you could, by chance, recover the inmates’ psychological files, I would be much obliged. I presume that we’ll have an influx of new troops due to the assault on the penitentiary? As you know, part of my duties are to assess the psychological states of our men. It would be much easier to do, however, with the aid of existing psychological profiles.”<<

Synapse pulled the lever and engaged the chemical shower. Liquid poured down from above, washing away the harmful substances searing bits of the psychotherapist’s armor away.

>>”You know I will hold you to that, my friend. When we both have a moment, I would like nothing more than to speak with you.”<< Synapse paused as an errant thought crossed his mind. Scorponok was certainly busy, but…while the cyber-owl had him. >>”…Scorponok…The reports that I read state that we have found Jhiaxus? I believe he was an old associate of Cyclonus and Scourge, correct? Would you perhaps like me to speak with them as well?”<<

While he awaited an answer from Scorponok, Synapse stepped out of the shower and began to dry himself with one of the available cleaning cloths nearby. Well, he ought to set about Lord Scorponok’s request now. No sense in dragging it out. Besides, Synapse did worry what might happen to Deadlock under Kickback’s less than sensitive therapy.

>>”Kickback?”<< Synapse began on a private line to the Insecticon, >>”Lord Scorponok requested that I attend to Deadlock. Can you brief me on what you’ve gone over with him so far?”<<

Now to attend to the ailing Deadlock.

>>”Hello? Deadlock? This is Synapse. Do you know who I am?”<<

Figuring that was as good a start as any, Synapse issued a heavy sigh, hanging his head low. He’d been a bother to Lobe yet again due to his horrid luck. “I must again offer my most sincere apologies, Lobe. I cannot fathom why this happens every time that I enter your lab.”

Garrus 9: Mines

Pyro allowed his head to dip almost imperceptibly at the mention of the aftermath of their token resistance efforts. For the crew of the Farstar it had been an utter surprise to find a Decepticon Task Force in orbit of Nebulos. It had been a minor miracle that anyone had survived the initial jump into the system itself. Had it not been for the tactical prowess of some of the ship's command staff, lamentably those choices of Scattershot, the Farstar would have been lost with all hands. To fall into the system, be surrounded by an ever expansive Gravity Well, generated by the experimental Interdictor Cruiser Rancor, Scattershot had ordered the Farstar into the atmosphere of the nearest Jovian Class planet. A patchwork of hurried repairs later and a series of nearly fifty probe reprograms later, the Autobot Frigate made its desperate dash to Nebulos proper. Such an effort left the Rancor a burning mass of twisted metal as the surprise burst from the main battery of the smaller craft had caught the ship almost mid profile, its shields weakened by the combined battle of the dueling gravity fields of its generators and the planet they had chosen to use for cover.

The rest had been a blur of events that ultimately lead to Pyro's own attempt to take out an Insecticon Energy Siphon. Had he waited longer he would have probably detected the energy network that guarded the site and prevented his own detection. But as it was, the guard of the entire planet had been heightened to the extreme once the Farstar had entered the system.

"I do not believe the planet is a total loss. At present it is out of our reach, but..." Pyro considered his response a bit more carefully. "Once we do manage to find our way out of here, we can possibly regroup with Optimus Prime and work to fully liberate those people."

He shook his head again as he considered the possibilities. "To do that we have to focus on the first step in our liberation."

A sound of bending metal softly emerged from underneath the corpse of the Decepticon brute as a diminutive hand punched through a blown out armored plate. "Found it. Can't believe its still intact!" Amaranth's body soon followed clutching a small cylindrical device close to her breastplate.

"What have you found Amaranth?" Pyro looked over to his medical ally with a slowly developing expression of curiosity.

"Friend or Foe signature set. Allows either side to identify those signals who belong to their faction or the enemies. Supposed to help reduce friendly fire accidents in the heat of battle, but their use fell out of favor a few hundred vorns ago due to either side finding ways to mask or mimic their own signatures." Amaranth pulled herself out of the corpse and bound over to the quartet of larger mecha. She studied the cylinder briefly before she bound over towards Umbra. The medic gave the scout a quick scan, well as quick as her levels would allow, and then turned her attention to the device. Carefully she opened the panel and smiled briefly. "Thankfully, dead head over there appears to have been in this pit since well before these models were yanked. A few minor repairs and I think I can get it working. Not a lot of power to it though so I can't promise anything beyond a handful of temporary uses."

Pyro knelt down upon his newly acquired hip joint and studied the device carefully. "It is archaic..." He pondered things for a moment before he resumed his full height. He glanced down the path from which the others had come from, the path that lead to the first and primary gallery of the mines. "Good work," he finally spoke briefly continuing his hushed barely audible tone. "Let us away to further in the caves. We can no longer wait here for potential discovery."

He grabbed his tool and that of the medics as he fell in behind Pointblank, Umbra and Roadbuster. Amaranth fell in between the scout and aged veteran. He swung the pick into a side of the rock face, deep and high enough that when he pulled back a large chunk of stone and debris fell down in heaps and tumbles... completely burying the Decepticon corpse to the point where its existence would never be proven upon a glance or cursory examination. Pyro then spun the tools onto his back and looked over his shoulder to take note of a skulking shadow slowly approaching their position. "We move," was the only order he could give as he mentally pushed the makeshift squad down a side channel angling sharply to the left and slightly downwards from the main tunnel.

It began to level off after a couple of meters and then forked again. Pyro picked the most recently worn path and pointed the team into that direction. Eventually a new sound reached his audio receptors as they traveled towards the last known coordinates of the Environmental Control Conduits and Hubs. A familiar muffle that he had not heard in nearly a Vorn, one that he had only encountered once maybe twice before. "Pointblank, you asked what Whirl was up to? I think we are about to discover the answer to that question.

Garrus-9--Mines

His precious mines were overrun. Before, they had been filled with laborers who were all working towards his goals. Well, mostly. They were the Autobots' goals, but they just happened to align with his for the most part. Now he had officially signed his declaration of allegiance to the Decepticons and he was already beginning to question whether or not he would enjoy the same luxuries that he had previously.

>>"Goldrush, report in. What is the status of the Insecticons?"<<

Case in point? Answering to others regarding paltry and insignificant matters. Like he cared what those disgusting bugs were up to.

>>"Erm, I believe one of the Insecticons departed a shirt time ago, heading for the surface levels of the prison. The others appear content to remain and observe. Well, the sentient ones I assume you mean. Their nestmate drones continue to burrow deeper and deeper into these precious mines....undoubtedly wasting any number of precious metals as they employ their crude tactics."<<

Garrus 9 - Exterior

Vroom looked upwards for a moment. It dawned on him that even though he had been in this planet for Primus knows how long this was his first time in a while actually seeing the moon outside.

"Well, this place is pretty much a dump outside. I guess it makes sense for a prison planet. We should be able to find plenty of caves in those peaks over there."

He pointed at some mountains in the distance.

Corridors

Kickback could practically taste the uncertainty and defiance in Deadlock's answers. Oh yes, this one was most certainly going through some troubling times. The only question in Kickback's mind would be how far he could steer him in the wrong direction so as to further complicate Scorponok's dominion over their eventual nest without being any way conspicuous in doing so. It would be a challenge to say the least, but a delectable one.

>>"You should-"<<

>>"Kickback? Lord Scorponok requested that I attend to Deadlock. Can you brief me on what you’ve gone over with him so far?"<<

Kickback hissed internally. Interruptions. And just when he was beginning to really dig into the meat of Deadlock's frustrations. But he could not protest. These were orders from Lord Scorponok. And if anyone would pick up Kickback's subterfuge, it would be a Decepticon like Synapse.

>>"Oh yes. Yes, of course. It seems, well, our friend appears to have some qualms with the methodologies utilized by our recently-resurrected scientist-in-chief. Hee. Ahem. I was, em, just now explaining to him the necessity for great sacrifice in service to the Decepticon cause."<<

Kickback's compound gaze returned to Deadlock. Yes. Hmm. He could not linger here any longer. Not when superior orders had been given. Yes. Could not be conspicuous.

"It seems that our mighty lord has seen fit to put your concerns in the hands of another. Be well, warrior. I trust that you will come to see the light."

Hehehe.

Garrus-9 Central--Amphitheater

“Good. Continue."

The praetor's reply was a twisted grin and a simple nod. Excellent. Jhiaxus had no intention of stopping now. Not when there were so many willing, and perhaps unwilling, subjects with which to perfect this process.

But the gladiator was not yet finished.

"You should not sell your apprentice short. He and his peers from the Academy of Advanced Technology have reached much."

At that, Jhiaxus' work stopped briefly. He sat back slightly in the command chair, a rare wave of reflection in a stormy ocean of progress. Indeed, Jhiaxus could arguably forgive even his greatest student for not unlocking the keys to the gestalt process. It was a marvel of Cybertronian creation itself, going back to the legends of Nexus Prime. So few ever stopped to appreciate the true marvel of their species: to be able to change forms entirely even once. Some could not physically handle even that. And there were demonstrably few who were able to withstand the physical and mental toil it took to be able to transform into a third or fourth alternate form. They were a true feat of cybernetic engineering, and with his guiding hand, Jhiaxus was confidant that they could go even further.

All of that being true, however, Jhiaxus could not deny that he was exceedingly curious. Though Shockwave may have failed to unlock the enigma of combination, he and his ilk had surely made other great, scientific strides in the intervening millennia between now and the time of the praetor's original imprisonment. He would be all too keen to find out what they were and how he might improve upon those, also.

But that was a concern for another time.

Jhiaxus pulled himself out of his reflective reverie and looked back to the holoscreens, and then the Technobots themselves.

“Though these five hardly deserve the name they have chosen for their team. Technobots. What did you ever achieve on your own? Perceptor, Jetfire, Wheeljack, Ironfist. There has always been someone else behind your technology."

"And so will it be again," Jhiaxus said, bringing up a new set of screens displaying blueprints and transformation schematics for the new forms that each member of the group would take in order to merge into their new gestalt body. He could not yet combine them together, but he could at least see if they were able to absorb the effects of their new transformations.

"Brace yourselves," Jhiaxus said calmly, before tapping away on the holographic model of each Technbot and initiating the rawest seed of their newest alternate mode.
___

Garrus-9 Central--Command Center ruins

>>”Then have your troops scour the facility for remaining Autobots! Who else could have done this?! I want the culprits found and crushed!"<<

At Scorponok's words, Cyclonus' gaze lowered to the floor. First they had been unable to subdue Omega Supreme, and now it was proving to be infinitely more difficult than he imagined to discover why they had been so skillfully thwarted in preventing his escape in the first place. It was maddening.

"He didn't sound happy," a teal and gray Seeker who just happened to be passing by said, drawing Cyclonus' immediate ire. Nothing about his expression changed until the purple mech lanced outward like a viper, striking the Seeker in the cranium with such ferocity that the winged warrior found himself immediately waylaid on the ground, struggling to regather his senses. By that time, Cyclonus was already stalking off in a different direction.

"I want anything without a Decepticon insignia accounted for within the orn," the warrior said, leaving no room for misinterpretation of his orders.

Garrus-9--Med-Bay

Skymauler was tense. Ever since he had been released by the Decepticons, it had been a weird balancing act, even for a Seeker. He wanted to just go off and go wild with the rest of the Decepticons. It would be just so easy. But he had a different job to do now that he had heard of the confrontation between Scorponok and Fortress Maximus.

Entering the medical ward, pink and purple Seeker nodded at two other Seeker guards. They had noticed his entrance and returned the nods.

Yep. Just a bunch of Decepticons standing guard while the medics did their work. Nothing to see here.
___

Garrus-9--Mines

Tentakil stood off to one side of the central mining area, surrounded by a small group of diaclones. Within the cybernetic suckers of his various tentacles, he held an assortment of shiny minerals. He held one out in front of the group of diaclones and then pulled it back--gauging their reaction. He then did it with another and watched all of their heads and antennae follow the shiny rock.

"Hmmmm......cute. And easily manipulated."

Garrus-9 – Amphitheatre

The relaxants coursed through Cutthroat's internal systems, cleansing him of the violent impulses that haunted his every movement and thought. Restrained to a surgical slab – with additional moderating devices securing him to ensure maximum safety to him and others around him – the Terrorcon exhibited a side to him no one would have ever envisioned. Deprived of his usual savageness and vitality, Cutthroat, dare it be said, almost looked... weak.

Weak wasn't a word that owned a place in Cutthroat's vocabulary. It had been excised long ago from it. Torn out and stomped on. Ground under his heel. And left in the dust to die, broken and alone.

When the relaxants wore off, the Terrorcon would visit upon the Seekers that had seized him and dragged him here a special type of torture he would devise just for them. What that torture was Cutthroat would create in due time. And he wouldn't hold back.

As he began a sequence of murderous scenes for the Seekers inside of his central cogitator, Cutthroat heard voices. Lifting his cranial unit, he turned it in the direction of the familiar sounds. His gaze betrayed no emotions as it discovered the monstrous forms of his comrades, the Terrorcons. Its neutrality was a product of the substances that flowed through the shock trooper.

“Blot... Sinnertwin... Ripper... snapper... Hun-Grrrrrrr...” Cutthroat said, drawling each name out. “How nice of you to join me...”

It was doubtful his comment was heard as he spoke slowly and quietly, the strength yet to return to even his voice – but his gaze remained on them. Fixed on them. He wanted his comrades to know that he lived, that Hun-Grrr's grisly punishment – which involved all the Terrorcons – hadn't killed him.

Weak wasn't a word that owned a place in Cutthroat's vocabulary.

But he was tormented by a weakness. The Urge. It enveloped him like a shroud, cutting off his senses. In their absence, rage and barbarity guided him. He was the blade that sliced, the pistol that fired. He was death distributing death to those caught in his sights.

He had attempted to kill a femme prisoner as the Urge grasped him, before shifting his dreadful intentions to Icepick – one of their primary objectives at the outset of the Garrus-9 assault. Cutthroat remembered fragments of that. Had the Terrorcons not intervened, the femme and Icepick would have been his next victims. Pieces of scrap, covered in oil and energon.

Cutthroat banished the memory. As he always reassured himself, he would deal with that problem eventually, and privately.

Optics still settled on the Terrorcons, the shock trooper managed a smirk. It would be interesting to hear if they had anything to say to him, either about the Monstercon incident or the current situation.