The Energon Pub

Garrus-9--Southern Wing

Icepick's optics twisted and resized themselves in their sockets as they slowly, painfully, started to come back online. His sensory information was awash in damage readings, just like they had been during that assault from Cutthroat, though more now. And then, almost as quickly as he had begun to process any conscious thought at all--pain. Primus, the pain. Not only outside but in.

He could recall flashes of action; screams, lives fleeing in terror while others crumpled before him in agony and death, surrounded by fire. A dream. Only Icepick knew better. For him, it was the faintest recollections of who he had been. What he had done. His Decepticon brethren had not managed to stop it. Monstructor had been born again. And now that it had tasted freedom, Icepick knew that it would be hungry to taste it again. It would manipulate events...it would manipulate them....to taste again what it had been denied.

But....it had been denied. Icepick slowly started to push himself up, pain registering with every inch that he moved, telltale burn marks and blaster impacts covering good portions of his body. They were.....separate again. In Primus' name how had they done it? Everything was so unsettling.

Turning his head, he saw the first welcome sight he had seen since it all happened. Umbra. The last face he remembered when he could still remember anything clearly in the first place. He smiled. But almost immediately caught sight of another. One that he had not wanted to disappoint, though for differing reasons than Umbra. But the reality was that he had not only disappointed them both, he had endangered them. Icepick's optics immediately looked away from Umbra and Bludgeon and instead found the floor.

"....my lord Bludgeon...I-I...I'm aghast..." he sputtered out through the pain, not having the first inkling of what to say to redeem himself and the other Monstercons.

Garrus 9 Southern Wing

The din of weaponry being fired suddenly came to a complete halt the lunatic with the big reputation had come through for them. Overlord what a prize hyper spanner he was lording it around just because he was one of Megatron’s phase 6’ers. Arrogant son of a glitch where some of the thoughts that where rumbling through Tentakil’s processor at the time of the aforementioned Overlords departure.

To his right the autobot prisoners were trying to state their case for their continued survival to Cyclonus, but the demolitions expert ignored that sideshow as the Monstercons started to regain their senses. He saw Bludgeon had required the Monstercon he’d found one creepy mech that one from what he’d heard half the rumours about him where true the other half didn’t even do the mechs formidable skills justice.

>>"Seacons. Grab a Monstercon and move out now. Those who do not carry one of the Monstercons, keep a watchful optic on the Autobot prisoners."<<

Snaptrap’s voice broke through his thoughts Seawing’s amusing attempts to replicate Snaptrap’s nonchalant lifting of Slog. Tentakil lifted scowl onto his shoulder with greater ease than Seawing but it was still an effort.

“Could use with losing a ton or two buddy”


Garrus 9 Southern Wing

Bludgeon was steadying Icepick as he watched a slight nod from Cyclonus aid Snaptrap’s decision to relinquish Icepick into his care. The added bit about keeping Umbra on a leash irritated the Former Empirion Commander as he was dismissed by a casual wave. “Umbra let us move I would have words with you about your stealth skill’s minus your cloaking field”

Before he could continue Icepick attempted to talk his voice stuttering due to the pain “you’re are lucky to have lived through an encounter with Overlord but save your strength Icepick we shall get you medical attention as quick as possible” the electric warrior hefted Icepick further up supporting the injured Monstercon with his own frame rather than allowing the injured mech to hurt himself further.

Bludgeon turned his attention back to Umbra “I take it you’ve studied the fundamentals of the Diffusion martial art this is good a diffusion master would be a formidable test” Bludgeon said with relish at the thought of testing himself against such a warrior. “When we get to the area for the Monstercons observation we shall test your skills see how good you are” for a brief second his optics glowed like a pair of golden orbs before dimming to their regular colouring.

Garrus 9 - Last Resort

After the other two Decepticon Secret Service agents had been attended to by the medics, Pounce slunk back into the elevator shaft, descending as fairly gracefully what with his feline agility and such. Pounce would love to see Wingspan try to be this perfectly elegant, but no, of course his brother had to cheat out of true skill with his flying alternate mode. Hmph.

Speaking of Wingspan...

As Pounce climbed into the hallway leading to the Last Resort, he detected a familiar scent. Wingspan. Well, well, well. Wasn't this a wonderful opportunity. Oh where, oh where, could his little brother be? The infiltrator cast a glance at Banzai-Tron, giving his superior an affirmative nod to let him know that the others were well taken care of.

Moving past his superior, Pounce silently padded into the main area of the Last Resort. The scent was coming from...that direction. Hm. Dark over there. Terrorcons must have torn it apart a little more vigorously in the fighting. Switching his optics to infrared, the infiltrator spotted Wingspan in the darkness. Messing with a fuse box. Hm. Laying low, Pounce scuttled up to his clone and hunkered down beside him with his optics adjusted for bright surroundings.

As soon as the lights flickered back online, one of the Terrorcons in the other rooms decided to let out one of their...sounds that they made. Of course, Wingspan didn't seem to know that and whirled about pointing his - Pounce's gun - in the general direction of the noise.

Pounce leaped and snatched his gun away from Wingspan, transforming back into his robot mode as he glared at Wingspan. "I'll be taking this back now, brother. I think you've borrowed it long enough," Pounce said as he put the gun away, "I trust breaking into Fort Max's head went well."

Glancing up at the lights before looking out of the door that led back to the main chamber of the last resort, Pounce issued a sigh that sounded more like a growl. "You should know better than to point a gun around wildly with the Terrorcons around. As intimidating as they are, pointing a gun at them is the last thing you'll likely ever do."

Grumbling in his soft growling fashion, Pounce walked away from Wingspan, gesturing for his brother to follow. "Let us see if Banzai-Tron requires anything from us."


Garrus 9 - Southern Wing

“Stay here and don’t get yourself into trouble.”

Umbra had no issues obeying Bludgeon's order. She hunkered down behind her rubble pile and kept watch from a distance. Bludgeon walked over to the separated Monstercons and picked up Icepick. Umbra's fatigue suddenly faded away as all her senses primed at the sight of her friend. She struggled to catch snippets of Bludgeon's conversation with...huh. The Seacon Commander Snaptrap. They just kept bumping into one another didn't they? Hm...might not be the best for her health.

But Bludgeon soon returned with Icepick well in hand, so Umbra assumed all had gone well. An irrepressible smile worked its way onto her faceplate beneath her cracked mouthplate. He was hurt and didn't look amazing, but as he moved around in Bludgeon's grip, he was one of the most miraculous sights that Umbra had ever seen. He soon turned his head and saw her. Icepick smiled, which only made Umbra's grin grow wider.

Only. Until the reality of what had happened seemed to sock Icepick, and her one and only friend averted his optics from both her and Bludgeon and directed them to the floor. He muttered something in a pain filled voice to Bludgeon. Bludgeon responded with his usual diplomacy. Umbra hurried over to Icepick's and consequentially Bludgeon's side and rested a hand on the injured Monstercon, giving him a soft hopefully reassuring smile.

"Welcome back, Icepick."

As Bludgeon's attention turned back to the agent, so did Umbra's return to her benefactor. “I take it you’ve studied the fundamentals of the Diffusion martial art. This is good. A diffusion master would be a formidable test.” Umbra's optics went a little wide as she followed Bludgeon's train of thought. Oh no. Don't...

“When we get to the area for the Monstercons' observation, we shall test your skills see how good you are.”

There it was. The hand that rested on Icepick clenched slightly in uncertainty. Going up against someone like Bludgeon whose skills were legendary. It made her uneasy. She would surely give it her all, but her chances of winning were...poor. She felt compelled to protest to Bludgeon's claims that she was a master of the art, but he seemed intent on taking the full measure of her skills himself. Hmph. Okay then. But Bludgeon would get more than he bargained for!

"Yes, my lord Bludgeon," Umbra said, taking her cues from Icepick, "I shall face you."

Semper Tyrannis--Hangar

The gargantuan, wounded form of Scorponok appeared through the whirling vortex in the center of the space bridge terminal located in the hangar of the mighty flagship of the 2nd Fleet. Instead of stopping to acknowledge the assigned guardians of the space bridge saluting their returning leader, Scorponok walked past them - carrying himself as if the battle damage he had received in his duel with Fortress Maximus had not slowed him down the slightest. Time was of the essence but there was really nothing even Jhiaxus could do about Monstructor issue until Cyclonus had gone through his investigation. Scorponok himself on the other had was in dire need of repairs to be able to answer to the challenges yet to come.

>>"Reflector, home to my signal and arrange me repair drones on move. I don't have time to waste."<<

It was somewhat surprising Jhiaxus had said nothing regarding the localized space bridge which he had just witnessed being used before his very optics. It was after all a functioning end result of unfinished research of Jhiaxus and his most famous student. The titans had been long gone even before Nova Prime's rise to power. Desiring Cybertron's return into a major galactic hub, Nova Prime had assigned his scientists led by Jhiaxus to research the derelict space bridge network between Cybertron and its lost colony worlds, that had fallen into state of disrepair during the long years of chaos and war prior Nova finally uniting the warring tribes.

Restoring the space bridge network however had proved to be far more challenging task than anticipated and one of the reasons for the creation of the Ark I. Among its many objectives had been to find the lost colony worlds and activate the space bridge network again for the technology behind the ancient space bridge technology had required a functioning bridge in both ends of the artificial wormhole. This had inspired Jhiaxus to attempt to create a new kind of space bridge that required only point of entry. Work that had resulted in birth of the orbital bounce technology. The orbital bounce however had not been as effective mean of deploying troops as Nova Prime and Galvatron had desired. The launch of Ark I had put a pause to Jhiaxus' research though. His work however had been continued by Shockwave until his own disappearance. A work perfected by the often overlooked genius of Scorponok.

No matter. Scorponok was not one to beg for acknowledgment of his skills. He did not require praise from others like some individuals with weaker minds. In fact, were Jhiaxus to consider Scorponok's level of intelligence leagues below his own in his arrogance - Scorponok could only gain from it.

"I do not know why exactly your giant fell Jhiaxus," Scorponok continued from where they had left their discussion on the other side of the portal, "But this super soldier of Megatron's - Overlord... He has an affinity to find weaknesses in others that seemingly defies all odds. If Monstructor had a weak spot, Overlord found it."

"Really, there is no way more effective perfecting a new super weapon than run trials against Overlord. Whether or not he can be made to perform this for you is another thing entirely."

Garrus-9--Southern Wing

"You show the Autobots more mercy than I would have," Scourge remarked coldly, resuming his earlier position at Cyclonus' side. The lithe, purple warrior turned to regard him for a moment before a brief smirk wisped across his face and just as quickly vanished.

"When is that ever not the case, old friend?" he asked, surely rhetorically. Scourge only stiffened his stance slightly in response.

"They will not aid us," Scourge said, watching as the Autobot prisoners were herded together once more, only now being taken back the direction they had come, their escorts leading them to some sort of amphitheater that Cyclonus had found which would suit he and their fleet commander's purposes. It was all largely uninteresting to Scourge. The battle had been costly, but it had been won. That was all that mattered.

"I think they will," Cyclonus said, both his tone and expression more even now. "In their own limited way. Show them a path to a greater good and you might be surprised at what they'll do."

Cyclonus seemed to pause then, though Scourge was not entirely sure why until he overheard the spoken transmission to the Seacon Commander.

>>"One more thing, Snaptrap. I want your analysis of that engagement with the gestalt, in addition to all visual recordings from you and your men. Have them transmitted directly to Reflector aboard the Tyrannis. Though I am grateful that Overlord managed to tame the beast, our lord commander would know how it was done. As would we all."<<
___

Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

>>"Reflector, home to my signal and arrange me repair drones on move. I don't have time to waste,"<< came the transmission from the 2nd Fleet Commander.

>>"It will be done my lord. I will also be at your location within the breem, should you require additional assistance,"<< he added, the third unit tracking the movements of the first, the Viewfinder, component as it traversed the corridors of the ship en route to Scorponok's position. He dismissed two active holoscreens and then brought up another so that he could activate two teams of repair drones and program them with the requisite commands.

Southern Wing - Outside Last Resort

The silence that had come since Flatline had left had not been kind to Jumpstart. The oath he had taken upon becoming a doctor had made it quiet clear that he should also give medical attention to his enemies yet this battle was pushing that oath to its breaking point. The wounds he could see caused by the monsters Scorponok had unleashed and the occasional sounds that would echo through the sounds would tear through his mind. He looked down at the broken Decepticon female before him and once again dark thoughts began to creep into his mind. Just one quick flip of a switch could cause a surge that would extinguished her spark and no one would ever know. One less Decepticon in this world. Wasn't that the goal in war?

The call from Flatline had snapped him from his dark thoughts. Great, more injured Decepticons. An injured Autobot would be unlikely to cause such concerns with his Decepticon colleague. He wondered if such concerns could be found passing through the processor of Decepticon doctors. He sighed. Remembering his oath one more and walked to one of the few empty CR Chambers then replied to Flatline.

"I am preparing the CR Chamber. For what type of injuries does the patient have?"

Outside the Prison

Squeezing out the fissure in the outer wall had not been a fun experience for Vroom. At least that is what he told himself. Even with the frustrations of not being able to help the others in his mind, his oil still burned hotter than it had done in cycles. He was not proud of how much he was currently enjoying himself but there was little he could not about it. It was hard wired into his programing.

He knew that leaving the prison was not an achievement but rather the start of a new adventure. The first part of that was finding himself a way to survive. He looked at the distance and could see smoke in various different places. Those had to be the remains of Decepticon ships that had been shot done. Those remains would likely carry danger but also plenty of opportunity. He moved in their direction.

Semper Tyrannis--Hangar

When Jhiaxus stepped through the portal, it was clear that his mind was not on the new technology that surrounded him, or that he had just utilized. Nor was it on the prison that he had left or the ship he had just boarded. The name that scorponok had mentioned just prior to their departure held sway over his mind now, but even that would be temporary. Nonetheless, the questions regarding how Cyclonus' presence here had come to be swirled like a storm in the ancient Cybertronian's mind, each new question fueling others, which in turn spawned even more. It would be excessively maddening for a lesser mind.

"I do not know why exactly your giant fell Jhiaxus. But this super soldier of Megatron's - Overlord... He has an affinity to find weaknesses in others that seemingly defies all odds. If Monstructor had a weak spot, Overlord found it."

Jhiaxus' expression turned from one of seemingly staring blankly off into space to returning his focus to Scorponok once more. The words had not been lost on him, even if his thoughts were occupied elsewhere now. This...Overlord...was sounding like a remarkable specimen in his own right. He, too, would likely display the same potential that this gladiator had, particularly if he were possessed of such a unique skillset.

"Really, there is no way more effective perfecting a new super weapon than run trials against Overlord. Whether or not he can be made to perform this for you is another thing entirely."

"Ahhhh, and therein surely lies the solution. Perhaps the ideal sharpening stone for everything I might henceforth develop," Jhiaxus said. Speaking with Cyclonus. Evaluating Overlord. Assessing their captive population. All of this needed to occur within the walls of that prison. None of it would be accomplished up here. That reality, too, was maddening.

"You are worn from battle, that is evident gladiator. Shall I proceed to the bridge to await the results of Cyclonus' investigation while you see to your repairs?"

It was then that an auxiliary door to the hangar opened and an unremarkable, purple and gray mechanoid entered, followed by several hovering drone units. From Jhiaxus' perspective he appeared to be little more than a glorified drone himself, though it was possible that he was sentient. Clearly of the subservient class in any case and thus another who was unworthy of his notice. Jhiaxus quickly returned his attention to the hulking Scorponok, awaiting his thoughts.

Garrus 9 – Last Resort

A pleased expression worked its way onto Firewire’s faceplate as Scorponok graciously granted her request. As the titanic warlord stepped through the portal, Firewire turned to look back at Kronus who was still being hounded by Hun-Grr. She still didn’t envy him. The analyst tried to catch his optic while she called from where she stood.

“You’re welcome! Grab the mobile lab when you come through the space bridge, huh?” Firewire said with a wave as she entered the portal behind her liege.

Semper Tyrannis – Hangar

Travel through the space bridge fascinated Firewire to no end. She emerged from the swirling, misty vortex and walked over to Scorponok’s side, glancing up at him respectfully before glancing around the hangar. It was fairly empty. Most of their forces had been deployed to the task of conquering the facility below. Hm. It was nice to get out. She wondered if Kickback had collected those samples she’d requested of him earlier.

"I do not know why exactly your giant fell Jhiaxus."

Oh! Right. Jhiaxus. She had to glare at him. Firewire proceeded to resume her glaring while Scorponok addressed the very ancient, decrepit, probably senile and dementia-plagued scientist. Ugh. She really did not like him. Firewire had thought that he was going to be like…like…inspiring! Like Solus! Not that she had ever met Solus, but still. Disappointed. Not that it really mattered so long as he gave them what they wanted.

"You are worn from battle, that is evident gladiator. Shall I proceed to the bridge to await the results of Cyclonus' investigation while you see to your repairs?"

Oh dear Primus, someone hold her back. There it was again. AGAIN! How her optics did not pop out of her cranium was a true scientific mystery. How could he even begin to dare to not refer to Lord Scorpy by name?! Proper title! Everything! AAAAAAHHHHHHH! Firewire wanted Jhiaxus squished. Right under Scorpy’s heel. Yep.

Firewire’s seething was soon distracted by the entrance of Reflector and some repair drones into the hangar. It was good to see Reflector again. She offered the constant observer a smile.

Her optics quickly snapped back to Jhiaxus to see how he would react. A glance in that direction. And that look. She knew that look. She hadn’t exactly seen it in a few million years, but it was definitely that one.

Firewire ceased her glaring at Jhiaxus. She could wait a million years more, but he would never cast her a second glance. Where was Kronus with that mobile platform anyway? Firewire glanced at Jhiaxus’s vital signs on her HUD and was almost displeased to see that they were stable. Hm. Well, well…That was an idea and a half, wasn’t it?

>>”My lord,”<< Firewire commed nonverbally to the high commander, >>”Jh-Our guest, while currently cooperative, ultimately owes us little allegiance. It might be wise to insure that we possess some…leverage over him in the orns to come. I may have an idea on that matter.”<<

Garrus 9 – Southern Wing

”This is positively, indubitably the most repugnant of circumstances. Accountability lies with the commanding party,” Highbrow huffed, eyeing Scattershot from afar. He shuffled along clad in his bindings toward whatever new destination the Decepticons saw fit to cart them away to. They stopped as they reached the Seacon commander who was to lead them. A prod from behind made Highbrow whirl and turn on his prodder.

“Unhand me, ruffian! Have I not languished under your despotic thumb enough without being galvanized to activity!”

“Uhh…” Nightbeat stared back at Highbrow with an uncertain look. As soon as Highbrow realized who it was, his countenance darkened, and he turned away without a word. Nightbeat shrugged. Highbrow had always been one of those uppity irritable ones with a superiority complex. Turning back to Brainstorm, the detective resumed what he had been saying before being interrupted by Highbrow.

”I’ll try, Brainstorm, but it’s not like I can just waltz away and grab a gun. Or a part of one. We’re under heavy guard,” Nightbeat whispered, trying to avoid the attention of the Sweeps and Seekers surrounding them by acting as casual as possible.

Another moment and they were moving, being prodded along by their Decepticon captors. Some new ones had been assigned to them, making any chance of escape slimmer. They also seemed like more than just the average Sweep or Seeker, having sort of strange alternate modes. Great. Nightbeat just kept his head down and followed along, waiting for another opportunity to present itself and keeping his optics on the Seacon Commander.

Leading the way through the penitentiary, Snaptrap held Slog on his shoulder with one arm and held his atom smasher gun in the other. He was aware of the Monstercon rousing but he put up no struggle. Instead, Snaptrap heard him offer up a something of a fusion between a whisper and a pained moan.

“Ap..olo…gies…” The Monstercon paused and weakly coughed up some energon. “We…are merely pieces…of the whole…that threatened you…” Slog paused again to clear his throat of some energon that had caught there, only to erupt into a weak fit of coughing. It subsided, leaving the de facto leader of the Monstercon’s scorched and blaster marked frame trembling slightly. “Do not…punish the others for his actions…If there need…s-s..someone to be punished…”

“Enough.”

“…?” Perplexed and deeply troubled, Slog still fell into silence as requested. As the Seacon Commander continued onward without any further word, Slog merely stared down at the floor before taking a moment of liberty to look around for the other members of his team. He saw the vast majority…but neither Birdbrain nor Icepick were anywhere to be seen. What had become of them? Slog could only assume the worst.

As the Monstercon finally fell into silence, Snaptrap took the time to cast a glance behind to see how his subordinates were coming along. All were doing as ordered, which was well. He slowed his pace a bit to walk just slightly ahead of Seawing and Tentakill and the Autobot prisoners.

>>"One more thing, Snaptrap. I want your analysis of that engagement with the gestalt, in addition to all visual recordings from you and your men. Have them transmitted directly to Reflector aboard the Tyrannis. Though I am grateful that Overlord managed to tame the beast, our lord commander would know how it was done. As would we all."<<

>>”Understood. It shall be done, Cyclonus,”<< Snaptrap transmitted back to the horned Decepticon without a break in his stride. Snaptrap cast his aurulent optics down at Seawing, addressing both he and the other Seacons simultaneously. “Seawing. Transmit all visual recordings from the engagement with Monstructor to me immediately. The rest of you as well.”

Turning his gaze from the scout, Snaptrap turned to look at Tentakil with an almost thoughtful expression. >>“Tentakil, what did you make of the battle?”<< Snaptrap asked, transmitting nonverbally on an open channel between the Seacons so as to not reveal anything unintentionally to the Autobot prisoners.

Tentakil was quietly moving forward with Scowl over his shoulder the Monstercon had yet to move a fibre bundle. His head swung around looking at the various Decepticons that where moving around Cyclonus was around somewhere as was Scourge. Thou that psycho Phase 6'er Overlord had mercifully decided to make himself absent which the underwater demolitions expert was happy for that he didn't need to be in that mech's sights.

Snaptrap's voice rumbled through the air interrupting his chain of thought.

"Seawing. Transmit all visual recordings from the engagement with Monstructor
to me immediately. The rest of you as well."

Tentakil did as he was requested sending the footage to his commander seconds later he was surprised to find his commander turning to face him briefly and speak over a secure comm channel

>>"Tentakil, what did you make of the battle?"<<

The demolitions expert brought up a small video feed on his optics allowing him to review what had occurred. After several reruns Tentakil gave his analysis. >>It appears in my humble opinion that he was targeting natural fracture points like myself targeting the weakest part of a structure when I need to demolish it. He hit the joins where the Monstercons connected to each other thou that is just my opinion others may look at it differently<<

The Seacon maintained optic contact for several cycles with Snaptrap before he gazed at the Autobot prisoners.

"Will we be feeding them to the Terrorcons or something else?"

Garrus-9--Corridors


“You’re are lucky...lived through....Overlord...get you medical attention..quick...,”

The words barely filtered through Icepick's audio receptors but he caught the gist of what Bludgeon was telling him. To be even shown the barest modicum of concern from a superior, well...apart from Slog...was strange to the Monstercon. The Cybertronians of old largely held them in disdain. Not much had changed since their imprisonment.

"Welcome back, Icepick," his prison friend said. The Autobot. Umbra. She reassured him more than she knew. Perhaps would ever know. So strange hearing such words coming from an individual with that particular allegiance. Even the typically equitable warden of this facility had largely treated them with something akin to stony indifference. So strange to be welcomed anywhere, even if it was only back to consciousness.

"Glad...to be," Icepick said, no longer relying on his own strength and instead allowing his largely dead weight to be supported by Bludgeon. "You look....well."
___

Seawing had finally managed to get his Monstercon moving, though it wasn't really anything as easy as the others were making it look. It was more of a "drag along the floor" method rather than "carry over shoulder" but it was working. Not like these Monstercons would get all miffy about a few more scuffs and dings.

>>"Seawing. Transmit all visual recordings from the engagement with Monstructor to me immediately. The rest of you as well."<<

Seawing froze abruptly, looking around. Visual recordings? Oh yes, of course. The Seacon accessed the default optical files that had come from his perspective of the last few breems and transmitted them to Snaptrap as ordered.

>>"Yes, commander. Absolutely. You should be receiving them now."<<

Seawing looked down at the Monstercon he was dragging, kicked him, and then resumed his plodding drag.

Semper Tyrannis--Corridors

"Ahhhh, and therein surely lies the solution. Perhaps the ideal sharpening stone for everything I might henceforth develop," Jhiaxus said. Speaking with Cyclonus. Evaluating Overlord. Assessing their captive population. All of this needed to occur within the walls of that prison. None of it would be accomplished up here. That reality, too, was maddening. "You are worn from battle, that is evident gladiator. Shall I proceed to the bridge to await the results of Cyclonus' investigation while you see to your repairs?"

"No. I will not stand idle when there is so much to work to do. Follow me scientist," Scorponok stated. The tone of his voice betrayed no emotion but the fact that he had chosen to refer to Jhiaxus similar way the ancient Cybertronian referred to him - told a tale of its own.

"Understand that the prison facility below us was badly damaged by our attack and not all of my soldiers are known for their regard of sparing their surroundings from collateral damage," Scorponok said as he began his journey towards the science laboratory on board the mighty dreadnought, "As a being of science you should not let your impatience govern your actions. You will need state of the art instruments for your work. And preferably ones that are not trigged to explode on your face by disgruntled Autobot scientists."

A large twin doors opened before Scorponok, revealing a relatively large science lab for a Decepticon ship of war.

"And you will find them here. Take a look at what you have at your disposal and let me know what you will need," The massive Decepticon warlord spoke and sat down on a transformable seat, clearly built with recharge and repairs of Scorponok himself in mind.

>>"My lord,"<< Firewire commed nonverbally to the high commander, >>”Jh-Our guest, while currently cooperative, ultimately owes us little allegiance. It might be wise to insure that we possess some…leverage over him in the orns to come. I may have an idea on that matter."<<

It was time to reply to the transmission sent by Firewire somewhat earlier.

>>"I agree. I see no reason to trust him. I would hear your suggestion now."<<

Northern Wing--Residential Bloc--Goldrush's Suite

*beep*

*beeeeeeeeeeep*

...

*beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep*

.............

*KA-BLASHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH*

The doors to the residential unit exploded open in a blaze of fire and debris, showering the occupants inside with the selfsame materials, awakening several of them from their over-energized stupors.

"Whaaaaa....?" Goldrush sputtered, pushing himself up. A squad of Decepticons rushed through the smoke and rapidly-diminishing flames, weapons at the ready and pointed at all of them.

>>"What's in there?"<< a voice could be heard over one of the Decepticon's external comm systems.

"Non-combatants, same as most of the other units. 'Cept for that one on the second level, but they didn't last long, heh."

>>"Gather 'em up. They all go to the lockup wing until the bosses decide what to do with 'em."<<

"Yes, sir."

"W-What is the meaning of-" Goldrush sputtered, searching for the right words.

"Quiet, Goldy. Get up and move," the squad leader said, motioning for his unit to move further into the suite. "Get the rest of them up and shackled. Don't got all slaggin' orn."
___

Garrus-9 Central--Amphitheater

Cyclonus, Scourge, and a not insignificant number of other Cybertronians walked their way through the war-torn halls and corridors of the prison from the southern wing into the centralmost area of the prison where the command center and other noteworthy structures were in place. Decepticon grunts cleared away what debris and casualties they could as Cyclonus walked forward, acknowledging their superior in one form or another or otherwise continuing their work.

Through the doors, Cyclonus could see the multi-function use that this room could have. A leveled dais stood in the middle with high walls surrounding an open walkway, and above those walls several rows of various-sized seating encircled the entire space of the room. On the blueprints and booking logs, the Autobots seemed to largely use it as a meeting room and occasionally a surgical suite for medical procedures that warranted an audience. Under the Decepticons' command, Cyclonus suspected it would fill both those purposes and more.

"Lock them down," Cyclonus said, referring to the Monstercons as he approached a command console and began examining the room's capabilities. Flipping through one holoscreen after another and activating processes, floor panels began to loosen and shift out of the way as operating tables rose up and transformed out of the plain, gray columns they had been previously.

Garrus-9 Central--Corridors

As Pointblank was lead through the famous Autobot penitentiary by their Decepticon captors--a reality which in itself was so idiosyncratic that he couldn't really wrap his mind around it--he largely kept his head down and his optics focused on the floor. Every so often he would glance up at the destruction and death that littered the facility, but he couldn't stomach the grisly images for very long. It was another reminder of the hell the Decepticons brought with them and continually left in their wake.

At least they were moving. He didn't know what exactly the Technobots had pulled back in the prison part, he was still in shock after seeing that massive...thing...but it had kept them mobile and out of those glitching cells. That was something.

"We've got to find something for Roadbuster to smash," Pointblank said quietly, looking over at Pyro as they walked. "He's gonna flip a circuit soon and get us all shot."
___

"Hail the combiner! Bringer of the end! Hail the combiner! Bringer of the end," Tyrannicus chanted quietly from the hidey hole he had found for himself here in the uppermost reaches of the southern wing.

He couldn't believe he had seen it with his own optics, but he had. He'd heard the stories. The rumors and myths surrounding Slog and his gang ran rampant through the penitentiary over the vorns. But there he was, in all his majestic, massive glory. He had only come for a short time, but it had been enough for the diminutive Decepticon. He had come.

And he would return.

"Hail the combi-ACK!"

Tyrannicus felt himself suddenly seized around the neck and lifted off the ground by a mechanoid that was easily three times his height.

"Aw, look. It's a runty proto," the Decepticon soldier said.

"I am not a proto! Take your hands off me! I-!"

"SHUT UP, runt," the Decepticon barked in the small mech's face before turning back to one of the other soldiers conducting the corridor sweep with him. "This one's a 'Con. Dunno how. I think Rumble could take 'im, hahahahah!"

"No doubt. Rumble'd knock his little head off, hahahahahah!" the other said, looking up at him as the other held him up, staring at him like they'd caught some sort of variant cyberfox.

"Whaddawe do when we find 'Cons?" the first one said.

"Let 'em go. It's 'Bots we're lookin' for."

"Slag. Shame to throw this one back. What's he gonna do for Megatron's war? I should just shoot 'im now. Save the Autobots the trouble."

"Bet no one would miss him."

"Heh heh heh."

Garrus-9 Southern Corridors

After all of the commotion of Autobot prisoners, Monstercons being carried off like luggage, and seeing a few of the higher commands like Cyclonus, Flytop wasn't quite ready to head back to the Hive. As far as she was concern, the other Insecticons are wasting their time building a new Hive since they will probably be moving along in a few orns. It did surprise her on how Bludgeon and his new Autobot pet reacted to choosing Icepick to carry along. Airarchnid can be slagged as far as Flytop was concern and would be half way tempting to do it herself but this wasn't the time nor place.

"Hmm, time to see what sort of quacky experiment old Lord Scorponok has in mind for these Monstercons. If the rumors are true, it may explain things. The thought of being shoved together though makes my skin crawl especially mentally. It would give a new twist to the Hive mind idea though. Ewww, bad thought, Shrapnel better not get any ideas on learning on how to do this monstrosity but I doubt he would think that big."

Amphitheater
As Flytop continued to think out loud, she decided to follow the caravan of mechs to wherever they were heading. She reached the amphitheater, she whistled at the structure.

"Commander Cyclonus, I can see Lord Scorponok or even the Slagmaker himself giving all sorts of speeches here. There are probably one or two Insecticons who would like to as well but they wouldn't be worth listening to. So what sort of fun things are we going to do the Monstercons here? They seem all worn out from their last episode with each other."

Garrus 9 Southern Wing

Airachnid merely hissed as Bludgeon had slapped her hands with his sword. Yeah she hadn’t exactly been delicate tearing the device off of Umbra, but she was no fool. She assumed the Autobots had some sort of failsafe installed on the devices. Still, she was a bit startled to see that they packed an explosive into even the ones they attached to fellow Autobots. Perhaps they weren’t as foolish or trusting as they had often come across to her as.

She refocused her attention back on Umbra, ignoring some random Insecticon idiot who came walking over to them. She really did hate the miserable little Autobot, but she was still her best bet right now. There was too much chaos going on to count on anyone else freeing her or cutting a deal with her. The Decepticons weren’t exactly showing her any sympathy and it looked like most of the Autobots were either dead or captured, not that she could count on them to do anything to help. No, only Umbra in her bizarre position as former Autobots and wannabe Decepticon might be the only one who would free her. The Universe had a cruel sense of humor in this case, the one that had put her in this prison was now her best chance for getting out of it.

The Decepticon was still surprised that Umbra agreed to try it. If there positions were reversed Airachnid would have simply run off. If the former Autobot was going to make it as a Decepticon she was going to have to lose this sense of honor. Even Bludgeon, who probably spouted off about such nonsense, was far from being truly honorable. Of course that was no concern of hers.

Airachnid raised an arm to shield herself from the explosion as the claw was removed from her. She got slightly singed from the flames but suffered no real damage. As she lowered her arm she could finally feel it. Weapon systems were coming back online and her transformation cog was active once again. With a though the extra appendages on her back came to life, separating out and striking the ground, lifting her up into the air, a triumphant smirk on her face.

The hunter barely acknowledged Umbra once she was free. She had finally gained a taste of freedom, and now she wanted it all. Her legs transformed, folding up into a compact form to let her move with her extra appendages much more efficiently. Airachnid darted back down the hallways, her legs clicking quickly and quietly and the floor. She would have to find some sort of exit or hold in the prison to escape the main facility and then try and locate a hangar or landing pad where she could steal a vehicle. Hopefully the chaos would be enough of a distraction of her to make it out without being noticed.

*

Scowl let out a low moan as he slowly reactivated. His head was full of noises, all he could remember from the merging. Screams and explosions reverberated in his mind. It was unpleasant, but he was glad it was all he could remember from that experience. He knew, they all knew, what Monstructor was like. He preferred to have as little of that in his head as he could manage.

The Monstercon’s optics slowly reactivated, and he found himself staring at the floor. Apparently he was being carried off somewhere, flung over someone’s shoulder like a bag of scrap. Hopefully no one would take the whole Monstructor thing personally. It wasn’t like Scowl had any choice in the matter. As odd as it would sound to others, Monstructor was really a whole other being who he just happened to be a part of. Slag, it didn’t even make sense to him when he thought about it.

“Hey! Hey! What’s going on here? Where’s Icpick?! Where’s Slog?! Where are you taking me?!” Still free from constrain Scowl’s voice boomed from out of his speakers, echoing down the corridor. It was pretty much impossible to ignore his shouting.

*

Garrus 9 Corridors

With the battle completed Overlord now found himself bored. Scorponok had apparently taken down Fortress Maximus in some sort of titanic battle, robbing him of what was likely the only other worthwhile opponent in this prison. There was still perhaps a chance of another foe worth fighting, but whoever it was would probably be locked up quite deep in the facility, and with an extracted spark. He doubted he had the patience for that to get sorted out, particularly with the abundance of other Decepticons around. Mechs like Cyclonus and Scorpnok would want things done a certain way, delaying or even denying his amusement. He could always force the matter, which could be amusing of itself, but likely not worth the effort.

It appeared that he had already partaken of the meager delights this world had to offer him. It would likely be back to deep space for him again after this. Assignments for phase sixers were often sparse. Megatron deployed his weapons of last resort sparingly, and only when there was no alternative. When he was unleashed upon a world there was no calling him off, and he assumed it was the same for the others, not that he particularly cared. Perhaps he could find a civilized world somewhere outside the empire and conduct a pre-emptive pacification. He doubted it would be challenging but at least it would pass the time.

The Phase Sixer paused for a moment in his walk. Monstructor’s odd power draining ability, while not completely effective against him, had taken a bit of a toll. This along with his interstellar travel had left his energy reserves somewhat depleted. He would have to delay his departure for a bit until he had replenished himself. The Autobots would surely have some sort of refueling establishment in the prison or base, it was just a matter of locating it. The Decepticon resumed his walking. Perhaps he would have to acquire a guide of some sort

Semper Tyrannis--Laboratory

"No. I will not stand idle when there is so much to work to do. Follow me scientist," the gladiator said, and Jhiaxus did so without further argument. Hunched over, his aged body still aching with eons of disuse, the legendary Cybertronian scientist and praetor of a largely forgotten age shuffled along behind the much larger Cybertronian, his optics looking forward even though his mind continued to scheme of different times and places altogether. His brief exposure to the here and now had already left him largely uninterested. As quickly as it ever had, his mind had turned to the future and what would await him. What would await their kind.

"Understand that the prison facility below us was badly damaged by our attack and not all of my soldiers are known for their regard of sparing their surroundings from collateral damage. As a being of science you should not let your impatience govern your actions. You will need state of the art instruments for your work. And preferably ones that are not rigged to explode on your face by disgruntled Autobot scientists."

Jhiaxus' jade optics narrowed, but he said nothing. For this glorified pit fighter to even attempt to lecture him on the virtues of patience, or the vices of its opposite, was so laughably ridiculous he wondered if his spark might not collapse on itself. On the latter point, however, he could at least acquiesce without so much feigned deference.

Following the larger warrior into the confines of the ship's laboratory--an impressive structure in itself--Jhiaxus took a moment to absorb the surroundings. Though he did not recognize every single advancement in technology that had been made in his absence, he could see many instruments that were largely logical extensions of their technological forebears. The same principle would likely be true in many other areas.

"And you will find them here. Take a look at what you have at your disposal and let me know what you will need," the gladiator said, moving to a chair and symbolically passing the room off to him. Jhiaxus nodded and continued further in, walking past tables and control panels, eyeing them all even as his mind continued to focus on matters very much beyond his present circumstances.

"I am fully confidant that your technological resources will cater to everything I have in mind. If Monstructor was able to come to be in my time, there is no limit on what we might now create," Jhiaxus said as he approached a large control panel and began accessing its contents. "Our greatest potential for lack will come in the form of suitable raw materials. I must see the masses. Allay their fears and begin siphoning any outliers from their number. You are clearly in need of repairs, but surely you have capable lieutenants who might see to my security until I return? Cyclonus is already down there. No harm will come to me so long as he is functional, I suspect."

Garrus 9- The Last Resort

So many scents. Scents of death and wounding. Autobots and Decepticons alike; fresh energon spilled.

Focus. Focus on the scent that matters.

Catgut found his way through the dead and the wounded, passing silently in the halls once the Autobots had fallen back to their defensive posts. He searched for Treadshot, separated from his partner following the devastating blow dealt by Fortress Maximus.

Now he had the scent. Now he focused.

He'd hoped for communication, but had heard nothing. He'd hoped for some sign or signal, but Treadshot had been silent.

So Catgut followed the scent to the medical station, to Treadshot's side...

...and waited in the shadows, watching, while his partner was restored.

Garrus-9--Corridors

Lightspeed did not like his surroundings. It was odd to feel that way since, whenever he had not been serving aboard the Farstar in recent memory, he had been here--somewhere on this facility--helping to keep it running and aiding the warfront just like the other Technobots. But now...now it looked like. Well, he couldn't be sure exactly, but he imagined this was a lot like what Styx would look like on any standard cycle: bodies and debris everywhere, fires, screaming, the faint din of dying blaster fire. The Pit, basically.

They were moving and not being systematically executed or tossed into fresh cells, so he supposed that was at least something to be marginally grateful for. But he had certainly had better escorts in his day. In fact, just now it felt like he was walking along in a group that was getting a little too close to the Butcher of the Bogs for his liking. And his pace was slowing. Why was it slowing? He was going to wind up-

-right next to him.

Oh Primus...

"I-I hope there's s-some sort of common ground we can find to help each other with t-those, um, Monstructor-things. Er, gestalts. Maybe avoid mutual extermination. Heh."

How the slag does one make small talk with a mech like this?

You don't! You don't make small talk! You keep your mouth shut! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid...

Semper Tyrannis--Hangar

"I am fully confidant that your technological resources will cater to everything I have in mind. If Monstructor was able to come to be in my time, there is no limit on what we might now create," Jhiaxus said as he approached a large control panel and began accessing its contents. "Our greatest potential for lack will come in the form of suitable raw materials. I must see the masses. Allay their fears and begin siphoning any outliers from their number. You are clearly in need of repairs, but surely you have capable lieutenants who might see to my security until I return? Cyclonus is already down there. No harm will come to me so long as he is functional, I suspect."

Scorponok could sense Jhiaxus seething under the superficially calm and collected exterior of his. There were barely noticeable shifts in his tone and body movement but it was still enough to betray some of his true emotions to a trained observer. This was a dangerous mechanoid. A morally depraved, arrogant supremacist, believing himself above even fellow Cybertronians. Above him. There was no telling how far Jhiaxus' gratitude over being freed would carry on. A solution was required - a way to control the scientist while siphoning his secrets for the gain of the Decepticons. He would have to keep tight leash on Jhiaxus, that much was evident. But to ensure his cooperation he had to give Jhiaxus certain amount of freedom to operate within the said leash. The question was, how far he was willing to go? He could not risk losing such an valuable asset to a stray enemy laser blast or the whims of Overlord. And for that he needed Cyclonus.

"You are eager to return to work." The warlord spoke. Perhaps too eager. "Very well. Perhaps I can arrange something. In the meanwhile, tell me something. You put a great faith in Cyclonus. I would like to know why."

However it was not just Jhiaxus who raised questions in Scorponok's mind. What was the connection between Cyclonus and Jhiaxus? And Scourge as well in all likelihood? Both had served the cause faithfully from the early days of the Great War and had earned his respect. Yet, he could not avoid questioning the loyalty of even such accomplished Decepticons with the return of one of their old masters. How far he could trust them? Had their devotion to the Decepticon cause replaced their earlier bonds. Or would they bow before their old masters were they to return? There were no easy answers to be given. Only more questions. And Scorponok needed answers, not more complications.

For that, two transmissions were sent. First one to two of his lower ranking officers - the second one to Cyclonus.

>>"Deadlock. Demolishor. Rendezvous with Cyclonus. You will have new orders shortly."<<

>>"Cyclonus, Jhiaxus is eager to begin his work anew. Access the situation. Is our control over Garrus-9 strong enough for you to be able to ensure his safety?"<<

Garrus-9 Central--Amphitheater

Cyclonus watched as Decepticon personnel began moving and activating various pieces of equipment within the large, stadium-like amphitheater while others took security positions to ensure no stray Autobot raiding parties would successfully breach the interior, particularly so long as the Monstercons, and their unholy combined form, were to be contained and studied here.

"Commander Cyclonus, I can see Lord Scorponok or even the Slagmaker himself giving all sorts of speeches here. There are probably one or two Insecticons who would like to as well but they wouldn't be worth listening to. So what sort of fun things are we going to do the Monstercons here? They seem all worn out from their last episode with each other."

Cyclonus turned from his observations above and focused on the mech speaking to him, only to find that it was one of Venom's ilk. An Insecticon. Cyclonus' optics narrowed. What was this one doing so far away from the others? Though the diaclones were very much evident throughout the entirety of the southern wing that they had just come from, their core masters had been conspicuous by their absence, in Cyclonus' estimation. Deviousness perhaps. Though just as likely cowardice. Regardless, Cyclonus could not afford any of their collective ineptitudes to contaminate the work that would be taking place within this room.

"The Monstercons will become the unstoppable killing machine they were designed to be," Cyclonus said as Scourge and a few of his Sweeps approached his position. "Now remove yourself, insect. You have no place here."

Cyclonus' optics met Scourge's briefly, another unspoken communication that was all too clear: if the bug does not leave willingly, assist it. Or execute it. Cyclonus was not particularly concerned with which. As he awaited the findings of Snaptrap and his men, another transmission came through. This time from Scorponok himself.

>>"Cyclonus, Jhiaxus is eager to begin his work anew. Access the situation. Is our control over Garrus-9 strong enough for you to be able to ensure his safety?"<<

Cyclonus stiffened reflexively. He knew from one of his earlier, brief interactions with Scorponok that the 2nd Fleet Commander's secondary hunt had been as successful as their first, but just because they had found the legendary Cybertronian scientist did not mean that he would return to them in any kind of functional mental state. Cyclonus himself could only begin to imagine the effects of such extended, isolated imprisonment. But for all that, Jhiaxus seemed to have his mental faculties about him. He was curious to see another member of the Ark's original crew once more and see what other memories it might trigger in his own mind. Though some of his experiences from that time were as clear as the Tracker himself standing in front of him now, others were a complete haze. Cyclonus did not know why, and perhaps the scientist had answers that others did not.

>>"Yes my lord. Our forces are conducting corridor sweeps even as we speak, rooting out the last of the resistance and gathering Decepticon and Autobot alike. Scourge and his forces are converging on my position now. Nothing will enter the amphitheater unbidden while we continue our work on the Monstructor Six. Jhiaxus will come to no harm here."<<

Cyclonus returned his gaze to Scourge.

"The scientist has been awakened. And he is functional."

For all of Scourge's notorious impassivity, that comment seemed to stir....something. Though Cyclonus could not identify specifically what, even in his oldest confidante. It seemed to mirror some of the conflicting emotions in Cyclonus' own mind: for all the support he had given Scorponok in carrying out this mission, for all the good he believed finding and reactivating Monstructor would do for the cause, he did not really expect to find Jhiaxus here in any kind of functional state. Reality--it seemed--had other plans. He could not help but wonder...out of the two creatures they had awakened, which was the real monster?

"The rumors were true, then. He was imprisoned here," Scourge said, his thoughts lingering idly for a few moments before speaking again. "The Autobots were fools not to execute him when they had the chance. The Tyrest Accord exists because of the machinations of beings like him."

"They were," Cyclonus agreed quietly. "Though if he remains functional, the fate of the others may not be known either. The true Prime. Galvatron. They-"

"They are gone, Cyclonus. The universe is ours to conquer. Megatron's path will bring us peace. Dominance. The praetor is only another means to that end now. Monstructor. Jhiaxus. They could end this war."

"Yes," Cyclonus said, more distantly. "But in whose favor?"

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing

Spinister looked down to his weapon again. It was jammed. He dropped it into the ground, and watched as it hit the solid, battered metal floor of the Southern Wing. He needed a new weapon. He needed HIS weapons.

Of course he wanted his Particle Beam Cannons back, along with his Laser Rifles and Fusion Bombs, and his Nuclear Flamethrower, too. But he was more worried about his cloaking device. Unfortunately, the Autobots were able find out where the cloaker was hiding, and stripped it from him. His method of cloaking has been discovered by the Autobots, but he's sure that that the ones who knew have probably been killed, horribly.

The decepticon copter still had to find that cloaking device. It was one of the best tools in his arsenal. There could always be the possibility that it has been destroyed by the Autobots, but that's highly unlikely. A better hypothesis would be that they kept it for study.

He looked to his right, and Counterpunch was still there. From what he's been through with him, it seemed like Counterpunch knew more about the place then most of the cons.

"Counterpunch," whispered Spinister, "Do you know where do the Autobots keep all the equipment confiscated from prisoners?"

Semper Tyrannis--Hangar

From his periphery, Jhiaxus could tell that he held the gladiator's curiosity. How could he not? In comparison, Jhiaxus suspected it would be akin to his own first encounter with Omega Supreme. Even so, the praetor's attention remained largely on the screens in front of him and the data he was able to retrieve regarding the prison facility that had locked him away for so many precious eons. Time that could have been spent investing in infinitely more productive research. Time...wasted.

"You are eager to return to work. Very well. Perhaps I can arrange something. In the meanwhile, tell me something. You put a great faith in Cyclonus. I would like to know why."

At last. At Primus forsaken last he was beginning to make a degree of acceptable progress.

"Indeed. Indeeeed. The delay forced upon me by the Autobots must be repaid unto them tenfold. A hundredfold. The army of gestalts will accomplish that."

As would the other workings that were taking greater and greater shape in Jhiaxus' mind. Scorponok's latter question, however, gave him a moment's pause. He turned, finally, to face the large gladiator directly.

"Cyclonus...is a rare mix of elements. The Prime, Nova Prime, took hardly any notice of him until he saw that Galvatron began to utilize him in various roles. In Nova's court, Cyclonus did not scheme to advance any further than what he was given. You know your history, gladiator. You know what role Galvatron played in the tribal war. It afforded him a level of prestige and influence that few others had known or could ever hope to attain. Over time, his reactions could be characterized as notoriously....unpredictable. I found his interactions with Cyclonus to be something of a...stabilizing influence on him. Though his work rarely intersected with my own, Cyclonus was steadfastly competent in whatever circumstance Galvatron thrust him in to. Loyal to a fault even when Nova's grand ambitions clearly did not go as expected. My guess is that you and your great leader have found him to be similarly competent. If he has given that loyalty to you, your war efforts have gone better than they otherwise would have. I would put the faith of my ongoing security in no other mech and expect a better outcome. Galvatron put his faith in almost noone, but he did with Cyclonus. That is why the Prime did. It is why I do."

Garrus 9 Central - Amphitheater



"My my my." Brainstorm muttered as he spun his processor around the large stadium-like room the Autobot prisoners where moved to. He took notice of the extensive amount of guards beginning to lock-down the immediate area. Brainstorm leaned over to his left and nudged the nearest Autobot to him, which just so happened to be Roadbuster. "Hey, with this many guards, you'd begin to think they were trying to hold back a few Wreckers or some- Oh... right. Sorry didn't mean it like- You know what I'll just shut up now..."



Deadlock followed in behind the train of prisoners into the now heavily fortified amphitheater of the prison complex. A slight wave of awe trembled through him as he gawked at the sight of the rapid shutdown the Decepticons had made to this particular sector of the prison. Something big must be about to go down, or perhaps it already went down and he missed it.

The black and white warrior took notice of Scorponok's right-hand mech, Cyclonus, and began to approach him for some answers when his comm-link buzzed in his audio receptor.

>>"Deadlock. Demolishor. Rendezvous with Cyclonus. You will have new orders shortly."<<

Consider that a perfectly timed order. Deadlock lifted his rifle up onto his shoulder plating and rested the massive weapon there as he approached the lithe-purple Decepticon warrior.

"Cyclonus!" Deadlock barked over the roar of Decepticon troopers rushing around, taking their positions along the doorways and over the murmuring of the Autobot prisoners. "Got orders from 'Big & Clawful' himself to come meet you here. What gives?" Deadlock respected Cyclonus as a warrior, but his sense of honor and theatrical demeanor weighed him down in Deadlock's optics. He was an old mech fighting in a younger mechs war now. To him, Cyclonus was like a relic compared to the advances in technology Deadlock possessed, but that argument is one he would save for a later time.



"Sweet P-Primus..." Strafe mumbled as he watched guards go running by and setting up shop around the stadium-like room. "I-I gotta get my actuators a-a-around those guns! Look at 'em all! P-Photon Displacers, High-Caliber S-Slug Slingers..."

"Are those Gravitron-Missle racks on that Cons shoulder armor up there?" Brainstorm jumped in and pointed to one of the more vertically ascended Decepticons acting as a sentry.

"No no no, G-Gravitron Rockets have the c-c-calibrated laser focusing devices right a-above the 3rd pod. Those are Cramorian C-C-Concussive missle pods."

"Ohh right! Right they have that little 5th pod they crammed off to the side so you can carry an extra volley!"

"Y-Yeah! Hey check it out u-up there!" Strafe pointed out as Brainstorm shifted his gazed to what he believed Strafe was pointing out to him. It was hard to be sure what Strafe was looking at exactly, what with their hands restrained in their stasis cuffs and the quirky and already jittery Strafe having to use the crest on his processor as a pseudo-pointer.

"What, the guy with the Focus Beam rifle?"

"No, to the-the right of him and back towards the second vi-view box."

"You mean that brutish fellow with the plasma-disputer?"

"Over one more."

"Ohhh I see now! The Kinetic Binary rifle guy!"

"Yeah! Can y-you just imagine setting that th-thing off?"

"Strafe if we ever get out of this alive, remind me to tell you about when Ironfist and I were both working back at the Institute. I'd love to explain it all right at this moment, but for now just remember this sound...'SHROOM!'" Brainstorm then raised his hands the best he could in a small bursting formation and his optics widening with great effect.

"Sh-Shroom?"

"Mhmmm."

”I’ll try, Brainstorm, but it’s not like I can just waltz away and grab a gun. Or a part of one. We’re under heavy guard."

"It's alright, I figure that we've still got plenty of time to divert optics away and grab what we need when we can." Brainstorm whispered back to Nighbeat, "For now we keep up the low-key schtick. Just get it whenever you can, I'll let you know if we need it sooner. We don't want to draw anymore attention to ourselves as is." The biomechanical engineer turned to check on Scattershot, Pyro, and Roadbuster's current condition. "I just hope the bricks can continue to keep the focus on themselves while we work under the nasal sensors of these guys..."

((OOC: More to come))

Garrus 9 Central – Amphitheater

The Seacons and their prisoners arrived at the amphitheater in short order, giving Snaptrap little time to consider Tentakil's assessment and Seawing's visual recordings. Playing back both his and Seawing's visual recordings side by side and using Tentakil's analysis, Snaptrap scanned the footage for the moment when Overlord sighted Monstructor's weakness. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Snaptrap considered his reply to Cyclonus when he noted that one of the Autobots was addressing him directly.

"I-I hope there's s-some sort of common ground we can find to help each other with t-those, um, Monstructor-things. Er, gestalts. Maybe avoid mutual extermination. Heh."

Snaptrap turned his head slightly to look at Lightspeed, his amber optic gleaming apathetically. Turning the rest of his body, Snaptrap swiftly raised his atom smasher gun to Lightspeed's head, lightly pressing the cool metal against Lightspeed's forehead. He stared at Lightspeed with cold indifference.

“Do not forget your place, prisoner. There is no 'common ground'. You will cooperate, or your usefulness will come to an end, and you will all die.”

Snaptrap fell silent but kept the gun pressing lightly against Lightspeed's head to emphasize his point. The Seacon commander did not care if Lightspeed lived or died. He could very easily and without remorse pull the trigger and end the Technobot's existence here and now regardless of the consequences should the Technobot choose to do anything to provoke him.

While he addressed the Technobot, Snaptrap opened a private communication channel with Cyclonus to give the purple horned Decepticon his requested report while also transmitting the video files from he and his team.

>>”Cyclonus, it's Snaptrap. I am transmitting the video feeds from my men now. It appears as though Overlord targeted a weakness in Monstructor's overall structure, likely part of the connective apparatus that keeps those six conjoined. Where Overlord fractures the armor here,”<< Snaptrap paused, sending a frozen frame from one of the feeds to elucidate, >>”is likely the point where the connective filaments are most exposed, seeing as the gestalt abruptly split apart afterward.”<<