The Energon Pub

Garrus-9 – Southern Wing – Steelhaven Breach Point

Holy fragging Vector Sigma. The Terrorcons were here, and eating—repeat, eating—a couple of Autobots as if Snack Time had taken priority over Kill Everything Time. Which it probably had because creating obscene amounts of carnage was no easy feat and bound to gobble up a considerable degree of your energy levels.

No pun intended. Especially when Nautilator's conscience was being stabbed with tiny needles of sympathy for the Autobots whose deaths were some of the worst he had ever seen. And he'd seen a good many gruesome endings during his time, courtesy of his unit leader, Snaptrap.

Nautilator kept a healthy distance between himself and the two Terrorcons. Paranoia and certainty told him that he would be next. Blot and Hun-Grrr had enjoyed their appetisers, and wouldn't mind feasting on a meal that came from the ocean. An “exotic dish,” they would call him. “We haven't eaten anything from the sea in a while, so he could be tasty.”

Nautilator tried to suppress a shudder. He failed. Miserably.

Even the few surviving lumen strips seemed to be anxious—the light they emitted twitching as if they knew the danger they were in with the Terrorcons around.

The other Seacons were present, too, but offered neither comfort nor strength to Nautilator's crumbling wall of courage that appeared to be on the verge of collapsing. They might as well have been absent, for all he cared. Such was the freakiness of the Terrorcons.

And there were only two of them. Imagine if all five were here now, happily consuming their deceased foes while sloshing about in puddles of vital fluids and half-chewed limbs? Holy fragging Vector Sigma.

Nautilator tried to suppress another shudder. He failed. Again. Very, very miserably.

Fearing that speaking would translate to, “Yes, please feel free to eat me, if you guys want,” Nautilator said nothing. He simply waited until Snaptrap gave the order for them to continue with their mission.

But not before his features scrunched in disgust as a foul odour invaded his olfactory sensors. And holy fragging Vector Sigma was it awful. Just as putrid as Skalor's stench, in fact. Yet, Nautilator dared not risk Blot's fury by saying a single word.

Being on the Terrorcon's menu wasn't worth it.

Semper Tyrannis--Brig

Rad, out of sheer boredom, gets up and walks around the tiny cell. Scattershot is trying his hardest to get his fellow Technobots back in one piece or as far as possible. Everyone else seems to be sitting there with nothing to do. All the talk is done and only thing left is to patiently wait. If Rad was having this much issues with the wait, his partner Lionzer would be majorly over heating unless they put him into stasis. As harsh as it sounds, it might be better if he was in stasis since Lionzer is used to the open space to run. Lightspeed even brought up the notion of no guards coming in to check on them for what seems like orns.

"At least the prisoners down on Garrus 9 aren't totally bored depending on the attack. Hopefully the Bots will kick the Cons off the moon and maybe even attempt to board this ship. Thing of it is, I'm not really sure if the Bots would have the mech power to do such a thing. Maybe, just maybe, we can find a literal crack in this cell and pull away some of the walls to reveal some route of escape."

Rad goes along the wall trying to find anything loose or defective to be used full even the most remote escape. Anything was better then sitting on the floor waiting for one of the Cons to show up and gloat about a victory or some other obscene thing.

Garrus 9 - Cell Block B

There. The blasted gadget was off. Stingray felt as if weights had been lifted from her shoulders and sighed in relief as the status icons of her transformation sequence lit up green on her HUD.

An urge coursed through her frame, an urge to change to her jet form without a second thought and give her thrusters a full burst, leaving this dismal, ruined place behind her backplate. It would have been liberating.

But, where could she even go? Not back to the Decepticon contingent, that was certain. At top speed, she probably could escape the gravity of this barren rock but what then? Her energy reserves were far less than adequate for long-distance void travel. Even fully charged, she could only have made it to a moon and back.

Regulator was starting to get annoying with his ceaseless worrying. Again, the pushing urge to just bash his cranium into the wall and run off surfaced in Stingray’s mind. She had to keep it in check. Those were Decepticon instincts. It was time she stopped thinking like one and started thinking like... something else.

He’s not a combatant. You are. You’re the escort detail. Both of you are needed to stay alive, she told herself.

An agonizing scream cut the air, no more than one or two corridor intersections away. Stingray had to force herself to not jump at the sound. Her fuel pump hammered in her audio receptors.

‘Okay,’ she said to Regulator, ‘let’s get the weapons. Then we need to hide and sneak out of here. Maintenance hatches, disposal shafts... anything that’s out of sight and you can get access to it.’

Anywhere but here.

She ushered Regulator on as gently as she could in her worked-up state. Her optics kept scanning the corridors. Lethal turmoil was looming around every corner.


Steelhaven Breach Point

Oh, slag.

There weren’t many thing that could simply halt Overbite in his tracks. He was a predator of the highest caliber who had faced, trapped and eliminated numerous foes from several species across galaxies. Some of these were puny, barely worthy of attention while others lethal, deserving his respect. Whichever, he took them all down. No pause, no hesitation, no remorse.

But stepping out from behind a corner and arriving upon the sight of the Terrorcons, his pedals involuntarily froze into motionlessness. It was an effort to not bring his rifle up and take aim, so alerted was he. Bulksome mechanical monsters gnawing at the dripping remains of their victims, fragments of armor and gobs of torn myomer-muscle dangling from their mouth apertures, the clawed, massive feet of their animal forms trampling limp, dismembered bodies into a pulpy mass and spattering fluid all about.

The unclean stench of rotten insides hung about them like an invisible force field.

Plain butchery was the first expression that came to Overbite’s mind. He had no qualms about ripping a living thing to shreds with his teeth, but this... this was beyond mere predatory instinct. This was raw terror and unbound violence, personified.

And for a single moment, it seemed the head honcho of these savage beasts, Hun-Grrr would go and try to snatch a piece out of Snaptrap. That would have been a fight Overbite would not want to eagerly participate in. The Seacons were a fearsome force in their own right, but the Terrorcons? Entirely different level.

‘Alright, you heard the boss,’ Overbite said, ushering his similarly shocked squadmates on, ‘let’s find these Monstercon mugs.’

He moved on, casting as short a glance in the direction of the Terrorcons as he could. As short as he could without accidentally stumbling into their meals sprawled and scattered on the floor.

Steelhaven Breach Point

"Oh Scrap..." Seawing muttered out-loud to himself, marveling at the sight of the Terrocons ferocity. He shook his head, trying to regain his focus on the situation. The reconnaissance agent fired off more rounds from his venom lasers, stunning Autobot defenders as they poured out from the prison and into the grounded vessel.

"This is getting us nowhere." He thought, "We don't seem to be making any progress in this conquest." Seawing gazed over at a large hole that the Steelhaven had created during its impact. He shifted off from the group and slipped through the hole into the prison.

Time to make my own progress.


Garrus 9 - Cell Block H

Banzai-tron meandered the rumble of the dis-functioning prison. The Steelhaven crash took it's toll on the intelligence officer, but not enough to drastically cripple him from completing his mission. He could hear the faint cries of dying Autobots and Decepticons alike, but he wasn't shaken.

"Hello? Someone mind letting me out?" A voice cried out from one of the cells. Banzai-tron paused for moment and turned towards the cell.

"Slog." The intelligence officer said coldly to the captive Monstercon. "I didn't come here on a rescue mission." He gazed around the cell and saw that the Monstercon had tried to make an attempt to escape his cell. Banzai-tron readied his arm cannon and blasted the cell's door off.

"You provide a more extensive understanding of this prison's layout. If you wish for freedom from this cell, I suggest you come with me and help clear this facility of your Autobot captors."

Garrus-9--Beta Turret

"I can't get a solid lock on that big 'un. Too much other slag in the way, including friendlies!"

"We still have friendlies up there?!"

"Not many! We're doing what we can, slaggit!"

"Keep firing!"

Inside the compact, turret control station, another tremor shook the structure as another blast was fired off in the hopes of repelling the invading Decepticon forces.

"Any word from Alpha turret?"

"None, sir."

"It got mauled."

"Primus frag it."

Above the tumult of battle, a new sound entered the fray. The sound of metal being shredded and torn. Artillery supervisor Charguard turned around in time to see the hinges of the armored entrance being burned, torn and ultimately ripped away before the mech on the other side was able to get inside, like a turbo-fox that had tracked down a nest of cyber-rats. His optics glowed a fierce crimson, just like the claws on each of his actuators, even as the rest of the mech was almost entirely cloaked in shadow. A blur of blue and white death was soon moving fast towards them.

"Oh slag!" Charguard called out, grabbing for his rifle. He managed to get to it, and even get a few shots off before Scourge was on top of him. The other two mechs manning the control stations got to their feet and chaos erupted inside the turret, just as it was consuming the entirety of the prison.

Semper Tyrannis--Brig

After a couple cycles of looking around, Rad found no cracks or imperfections which could be used for escape. Part of him knew this would be the case before he even started but still wanted to try. He walked back towards the Technobots and sat down next to Scattershot.

"With all the intelligence in this room, one would think we could figure out something besides sit and wait. However, it seems those are our only options. In a way, it almost seems like we are in suspended animation with nothing going on. At least we are all together and not split apart in individual cells. I'm guessing they don't have too many cells or they have more prisoners then they know to do with. I know we are more thinkers then fighters but have to wonder if a bit of brute force will do us any good in getting out."

Garrus-9 - Command Center

Shots from a few suicidal Autobots had distracted Cutthroat from his attack on ash. He turned towards them and jumped, his armor easily deflecting all the shots that came in his direction. A storm of flames, claws, and talons ensued followed by deaths.

Garrus-9 - Command Center

Soul Siren sighed as the Terrorcons continued to rampage around her. She looked forward to when the fighting moved out of this area and she could work in peace.

As she heard Cyclonus' reply she sent a private message to Scorponok in case any Autobots had miraculously survived and where listening.

"Cyclonus reports no casualties of substance and is moving to the deeper levels. He has included the following coordinates."


Garrus-9 - Southern Wing - Block B

Vroom grinned.

"I don't want to hear it. Its you Decepticons fault that you let Megatron get away with not requiring functional intelligence as a condition for joining. Now we gotta deal with those maniacs."

He continued to make his way towards the sounds of combat. If they could hear them that clearly it meant that there was an exit. It was a dangerous gamble but he was the master of those.

"We are walking into a war zone. I am sure you will find a weapon lying around soon enough."

Garrus-9 – Southern Wing – Cell Block M

He had pounded on the cell door. He had shouted for help. He had pounded on the cell door some more. He had shouted for help some more. Pounding, shouting. Pounding, shouting. Pounding, shouting.

To no avail. To no result. Zip, zilch, zero. Here, have a whole lot of nothing.

As he paced from one side of his cell to the other—back and forth, back and forth, back and forth—Wildfly supposed his calls for aid were not entirely being ignored. The cacophony of battle, he suspected, was conspiring against him by swallowing the vast majority of the noise he made and sabotaging his efforts. Yes. Yes, that had to be it.

And he believed that. With all these sounds emanating from the unfolding assault, of course his attempts of attracting someone's attention were going to be next to impossible. The fighting encircled Wildfly; the raucous and violent qualities of conflict resided on every level of the southern wing.

And of course nobody had busted him out. Of course. All the invading Decepticons and newly released prisoners were busy wiping the floor with the Autobots. If Wildfly were in either of their positions, he would have done the same thing. The opportunity was too good to squander.

But...

But that didn't stop him from cursing every damn Decepticon to the Pit who had the luxury of moving around without some abominable device or cramped box forbidding them that. Anger and frustration held Wildfly in a powerful grasp, leaving his common sense to play second fiddle to them. That was his excuse, anyway.

Still, he did wonder if his team-mates had been freed. He even found himself managing a smile at that thought, particularly when Scowl and Bristleback would prove to be a handful for the 'Bots.

The Loud Mouth and the Grumpy Prick. Wildfly laughed. Primus have mercy on the Garrus-9 staff, if they were indeed roaming the penitentiary.

Not.

Though Slog, Birdbrain, and Icepick were no pushovers, either. Nightmares to deal with, all of them.

Wildfly smiled again. He could imagine the confrontation between Slog and a guard. Hilarity would ensue, he was certain of it.

“Free, I am! And justice, for you, has come. Prepare yourself, yes? Claim you, death will, by my actuator. Add further oddly constructed sentences when justice is delivered, I will. Weird dialogue later—vengeance now.”

Maybe Slog wouldn't be that aggressive—or that strange when he spoke—but Wildfly knew it had been a long while since he last saw his team-mate. He might have sort of forgotten how Slog truly acted. Rather pathetic of Wildfly there.

He walked up to the cell door and peeked through the viewing panel. No saviours yet.

Thinking of his fellow Monstercons instilled in him a fierce desire to be with them, destroying the penitentiary and slaughtering the wretches who had kept them incarcerated for what felt like an eternity. That eternity, however, would continue for Wildfly until his release.

“Come on, gentlemechs,” he said, as he peered through the viewing panel again. “Anytime now would be great. I don't mind you being fashionably late, but this is getting ridiculous.”

Garrus-9--Auxiliary Corridors

At various points within the auxiliary corridor system connecting the command center to the rest of the prison system, Bomb-Burst, Quake, Horri-bull and others had materialized with their own detachments of Decepticon warriors as commanded by Scorponok. Their transmitted objective was to surround Fortress Maximus and his various forces assaulting the command center. Some of them were looking forward to the challenge much more than others.

>>"This is not going to end well...for them, hehe,"<< Bugly hissed into his comm.

>>"Mind your scanners, worm! Or I will gut you myself when next we meet!"<< Skullgrin barked into his own.

>>"Yes...., of course."<<

>>"The bug has no concept of battle. Only strategy. We will show him,"<< Bomb-Burst chimed in on Skullgrin's commlink. Skullgrin simply sneered. "That we will."

He then looked up.

"The rest of you!" Skullgrin roared, turning to face the assorted Seekers and other front-line warriors that made up his own assault unit. "That way!"

Skullgrin pointed one edge of his dual-bladed scythe down the corridor that would angle hard to the right and then lead them directly to Fortress Maximus' right flank. Even from their distant vantage point, the din of battle was impossible to miss. They could all hear the sounds of weapons fire and the tremors caused by oversized machines fighting to the death. And now it was their turn to be a part of it. Needing nothing more than Skullgrin's urging, the Decepticons in his command charged down the corridor. Skullgrin, readied his own weapon and charged after them, confidant that Scorponok's other lieutenants were doing the same from their own unique vantage points.

Rounding the corner, Skullgrin could see the command center in the far distance and could see that it was clearly engulfed in the full throes of battle. Horri-bull, Bomb-Burst and their respective units had made their charge, and now it was time to finish the job.

Delicious.

His subordinates did as they were told and charged the Autobots in this annex that were assaulting the command center.

"Max, we've got more 'Cons coming on our afts!" one of them yelled out.

Instinctively, several of the Autobots turned to direct their fire at the incoming Decepticons, even as others soon found themselves being directly mauled by other Decepticons.

That was when he saw him. Stepping through the flame and shadow was the massive Autobot who could be none other than the warden of this prison and the commander of the Steelhaven. Skullgrin gripped his weapon a little more tightly. What a prize he would make.

He slowly stalked forward, and Maximus seemed to be doing the same, even though the large Autobot's attention was not yet on him.

One of Skullgrin's Seekers fell at the onslaught of Maximus' weaponry. Then another. Then the large Autobot pulled an assaulting Decepticon away from one of his own troops, slamming him into the wall with such force that no part of his upper torso was recognizable as he dropped lifelessly to the ground. The large Autobot then seemed to patch himself into a wall console of some type.

>>"Rung, this is Max. I want to engage the Last Resort protocols.....before it actually becomes our last resort. You agree?"<< Skullgrin heard the Autobot call out. He was speaking to someone that Skullgrin was not familiar with and did not care to be. He would kill him, too. All in due time.

"You are large, but you will fall as the others have!" Skullgrin howled, motioning for the other Decepticons in his vicinity to find cover and begin firing. "Transform and advance!"

Behind the skull-visaged warrior-con, additional troops engaged their transformation sequence and began to rumbled forward towards the Autobot commander, their massive weapons charging and firing in chaotic tumult.

Garrus 9 – Auxiliary Corridors

Taking that group of cannon fodd…er, able bodied soldiers with him was the best idea Whirl had. Of course he probably could have taken care of every single ‘Con in that corridor by himself, but having the others around to draw some fire was just icing on the oil cake.

Shot after shot. Heavy thud after heavy thud. Whirl watched as, not just the ‘Cons, but his own men fell. Until there were only three. Oh well. Could be worse. He could be the one in a heap on the floor. Thankfully each of his soldiers died without a whimper.

As Whirl aimed once more, at yet another approaching Decepticon, he took hold of a soldier’s shoulder. “Head back down the hall. See if you can’t rustle up some more help.” Whirl shoved the smaller mech back toward the end of the corridor. He quickly took off. The coptorbot then grabbed hold of the second ‘Bot, his pincer squeezing uncomfortably into his metal skin. “You know there’s a time for holding your ground and a time for just throwing all caution to the wind…” With a confused expression plastered on his face, and before he even knew what was happening, the soldier found himself being shoved ahead of the senior guard, in the line of fire.

“Now you be a good subordinate and do what you’re meant to do!” Whirl sent another volley of weapons fire toward the enemy and just above the other Autobot’s head. “Don’t just stand there you idiot! Draw their fire!” Between a blast meant for the ‘Cons Whirl spared a moment to fire at the mech’s feet causing him to jump to avoid the shot. “Now that’s better! Keep dancin’!”

Several Decepticons stopped their assault to watch as one ‘Bot threw another into the fray. Those several seconds of entertaining distraction bought Whirl enough time to take out at least seven of the dim-wits. So easy to distract the brainless. Whirl chuckled as the last unsuspecting ‘Con fell to the floor.

With only a handful of foes remaining Whirl took one lunging step forward, grabbed the other soldier and yanked him back to safety. “That was fantastic, Lowball! You’re a natural. Well, sort of.” The senior guard patted the smaller Autobot on the head and returned his attention back down the hall. “You almost got me killed you slaghead!” Lowball yelled out.

Whirl kept firing. “The optimal word being “almost”. Now quit your whining and get back to work.” He looked down at the other mech and quickly took hold of his neck. “And another thing, get snippy with your superior again and next time I’ll use you as a shield. Capiche?” Lowball nodded prompting his release. Without another word both Autobots turned their full attention back on their assailants.

Garrus 9 – Level 4 – Cell Block C

“Let him go, Kronus. You don’t want to harm him. I know you don’t.” Rung spoke in as calm and soothing tone as possible. It came easy to him when he was in a safe environment such as his office, but out here where the prisoners had the run of the place, literally; things were just too unpredictable.

Kronus chuckled darkly as his grip on Streamlight grew just a little tighter. Of course the young mech struggled, but the grip with which Kronus was using made it tricky to gain any leverage. And certainly Rung wasn’t strong enough to help.

“And how would you know what I want or what I won’t do? I’ve been feeding you everything you wanted to hear from the beginning. You think I was actually gonna open up to you?” Even with the face restraint in place Rung could sense the smug smirk.

Rung raised his hands, palms up, in a nonthreatening manner. Kronus gripped tighter and stepped back slightly. The smile began to drop. “Kronus. You are not the first of my patients to feed me information. I know when I’m being lied to. I also know that some of what you told me was the truth.” Another step closer and another small step back for the hostage taker.

“So what if it was. Nothing was ever done about it.” Kronus shook Streamlight a bit. He was anxious to change the subject. “Listen you little slagger. You’re gonna take this restraint off my face and this claw off my back or I’m gonna tear your little bodyguard here limb from limb. Does that sound like I’m telling the truth?” The venom behind each word told Rung he should not argue. “I’ll remove them, but it will take a bit of time for the face mask. I’ll need to disable the deterrence chip that’s wired to it and to your head.”

Rung lowered one hand slowly toward his hip compartment and pulled out a small toolkit. Kronus watched the psychoanalyst carefully as he worked toward him and his hostage. “It’s alright Streamlight. This is almost over.” Now close enough, Rung gently reached out and began to work on removing the claw and then went to work on the restraint.

They were quiet until one of the three shattered the silence. “I thought…I thought we were friends, Kronus. I always went out of my way to make you more comfortable…to make things in here less intolerable. All this time you were playing me?” It was Streamlight. His voice filled with hurt. “You were the only one here, kid. Who else was I supposed to talk to? Besides, I needed some sap to get me what I needed. You fit that bill perfectly.” Kronus grumbled lowly. “Can’t you work any faster you hack?! I’ve got someplace important to be.” He spat.

Streamlight slumped heavily into Kronus’ grip. Played like a fool. How could he be so naive? While he sulked Rung finally pulled away. “There. I was able to disable the deterrence chip but I couldn’t remove it. You’ll need a medic to do that. But now you’re free to remove the face restraint.”

Kronus loosened his hold on the flier and then tossed him to the floor where Streamlight remained, unmoving. The thief stepped back and hesitantly placed both hands on either side of the mask. Slowly he pulled down and forward, the metal headpiece slipped until it was completely off revealing Kronus’ youthful visage. A smile spread from audio to audio as he ran one hand down the side of his face and finally coming to rest on his mouth.

“You got what you wanted. Now please just go.” Rung gestured to the corridor they had come down. “Yeah, I got what I wanted.” Kronus took a long lick of his digit before dropping the restraint to the floor. Streamlight didn’t even budge when it clattered to the floor next to him.

The thief knelt down beside the white and red flier, placed his finger beneath his chin and lifted so he and Streamlight were optic to optic. “If it makes you feel any better, kid. You actually were the nicest of all my personal guards. You were also the easiest to manipulate.” He rose back up and stared down at the young ‘Bot. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have an appointment with a dead mech.”

Moments later Kronus was gone leaving Rung to drag his companion back up to his feet. “I know you’re upset, but at least he left us alive.” Nothing but a slight nod. Rung sighed and patted the guard on the shoulder. The doctor suddenly halted and pressed a finger to his audio. An incoming communique…from Max of all mechs.

His hand lowered and Rung looked back the way they had come. He certainly hoped Max knew what he was doing. But at this point it probably didn’t matter.

>> “Agreed, Max. It’s probably our best chance.”<<

“Come on, Streamlight. We need to keep moving.” Rung tugged gently on the Bot’s arm prompting him to follow along, albeit grudgingly.

Semper Tyrannis - Brig

Brainstorm followed Scattershot's "orders" and began to pull out all his spare wires and any extra parts he had stored in his storage compartments. He didn't have much on him, mostly because he had become accustomed to just crafting replacement parts in his lab we he ever needed them. Brainstorm then rose up from his spot against the cell wall and started offering what he could to the rest of his cellmates.

During his trek around the cell, Brainstorm overheard Rad's conversation with the Technobot Commander.

"You make a good point Rad," He said as he butted into the conversation, "You know, about having enough intelligence in this very room that is. I've come up with at least...45 different scenarios so far on potential escape possibilites so far. They're all brilliant ideas too, some of my best work really, and each having an average success rate of about 93.975%. Don't worry I already ran the numbers no need to check my math, but those numbers don't mean anything because we don't have the resources available at hand right now."

Brainstorm was often famous for his scientific rambles, sometimes even infamous for it, but he did make a point; Even if they wanted to escape, none of the prisoners had any of the necessary resources or equipment that they could use to help their case.

"These prisons are built tough. Megatron tough. We'd need to increase our strength by at least... 7-fold if we'd want to even put a dent in these bars."


Garrus 9 - Southen Wing

Seawing hopped over some rubble as progressed his way more and more into the shambles of the Autbot prison. The lone Seacon stuck to the shadows, the darkness being almost a second home to him. Here he couldn't be seen, he could watch others from a distance and gather the information he'd need.

The corridors were ablaze with the destruction of Autobots and Decepticons alike. Seawing tried his best to avoid the situation, sticking close to the walls while still hiding in the shadows. He scurried past all the fighting as he passed Cell Block E.

"I wonder where the controls to those cell doors are..." The reconnaissance agent thought, "If I free them, perhaps then I can demonstrate my ability to lead more successfully than that brute, Snaptrap."

The Seacon continued marching swiftly through the prison in search for the cell block controls. He turned the corner of the corridor to find a crowd of Autobot lackeys rushing towards the heat of battle Seawing had just past.

"Scrap! How did my sensors not pick these guys up?" The Seacon questioned himself as he readied his weapons.

"Decepticon! Open fire!" One of the troopers yelled as the Autobots readied their weapons. Seawing began to open fire into the crowd, stunning a couple of his opponents with blight flashes of hazel venom-fire. He wouldn't be able to kill his opposition, but if he could stun them long enough, he could get past them fast enough for the rest of the Decepticons to finish them off as they swept through the prison.

Garrus 9-Southern Wing–-Block G

Scowl was still too giddy at first to even notice Icepick’s arrival. He was still cackling and sifting through all of the noise, the glorious noise, echoing throughout the entire facility. He hadn’t gotten this lost in noise and chaos in, well probably ever. It might just be the deprivation talking, but he couldn’t remember ever being so enveloped by noise as he was now. If only he could physically wrap himself up in it somehow.

Finally his attention was drawn to his teammate and the now deactivated cell entrance. If it was possible Scowl’s grin grew even bigger as he ran out of the cell. “Freedom! At last!” he yelled in his dampened voice, which meant it was hard to hear over the cacophony of noise echoing through the entire facility. His grin turned to a frown as he heard his pitiful voice.

Scowl grabbed Icpick’s shoulders. “This is not true freedom, not for me Icepick! I must have my voice, my noise, back! That will be true freedom! Then I can finally fully enjoy this moment.” He released the other Monstercon before turning around. “You have to get this inhibitor claw off of my Icepick. I don’t care if it kills me, but I must have it off! I would die happy in this moment if I could add to this noise and chaos!

Semper Tyrannis--Brig

Brainstorm's analysis pretty much summed up why Lightspeed hadn't expended any unnecessary effort on trying to escape. The odds were just too far against them, for now. But he would be watching their situation like a hawk. As soon as anything started to tip the balance more in their favor he was determined to capitalize on it.

"So, let's assume the worst and they take the prison. If they do...they have themselves an instant prison which means we probably won't get taken to Styx. I know Elba has a pretty deep mine system. If we get any chance to make a break for it, we could maybe get down there and survive off the land for a while. Elba's pretty much a cold and barren desert, but down there we'd have energy and minerals to help us."

"And we'd be boxed in," Pointblank interjected. "There's probably only one or two ways into that mine and once the 'Cons know we're in there--we're done."

Lightspeed sighed.

"Well, yeah, there is that."
___

Garrus-9 - Southern Wing - Block B

Stormwrecker barked out a laugh. So it was "challenge the other side's philosophy" time, eh? Stormwrecker could play that game. He had nothing better to do. Except survive. Minor issue.

"'Let'? No one 'lets' Megatron do anything. He just does it. If someone had the power to stop him there would be two new realities in this world that I'd be willing to bet money on: someone else would be leading the 'Cons, because the strongest leads--simple as that. And two, the war would be over. I don't think anyone else I've run into has the fuel to keep up a war for this long. Starscream would have cut a deal a long time ago. Probably Shockwave too. Megatron's just something else entirely. He is the fuel for this war, and it doesn't run out as long as he functions. Just the idea of Megatron will keep this war going on fumes for vorns, even if your super Prime were to finish the job, which he obviously can't."

Stormwrecker didn't have to walk far in the shadow of Vroom's footsteps in order to find a weapon. And the guard that it had belonged to, now mangled hopelessly beyond recognition. It was clear that some of the prisoners definitely had a real axe to grin with how they'd been treated, and some of those guards were going to pay the price. Stormwrecker was still keen on keeping as far away from the Terrorcons as possible. They were on an entirely different level of the cell block and he was going to work to make sure it stayed that way. As Vroom had said, if they were here, rescue could not possibly be a top priority and there was definitely going to be some friendly fire casualties.

"I wonder if the shipwreck punched a hole somewhere that we can scramble into," Stormwrecker said, trying his best to make sense of the madness and frenzy that was consuming everything around him. "We're gonna die in here if there ain't."
___

Garrus-9--Southern Wing–-Block G

Scowl had finally managed to pull himself out of his revelry and realize that he was, in fact, not stuck in his cell any longer. His grin had grown wider, just as Icepick's had at seeing his teammate's reaction to this new bit of information.

“Freedom! At last!” Icepick had managed to pick out, over the cacophony of escape, or something like that. He got the general idea either way.

Scowl then began speaking again, and Icepick leaned in even as he was held in Scowl's grasp in order to make sure he understood whatever the other Monstercon was trying to tell him. The inhibitor device. Of course. Given his unique talents it only made sense that he would want to be free of that just as much as he desired freedom from his cell. Arguably even more important.

"Of course! Of course, of course, of course," Icepick said happily as he set to work on examining the device that was connected directly to Scowl's vocalization systems. This.....this was going to be tricky. Icepick certainly didn't want to damage his fellow Monstercon any further, but he had picked up a few tricks over his seemingly countless vorns of imprisonment. They all had.

"Well, at least I can be sure there's not a bomb tied to this thing. Autobots wouldn't do that," Icepick said as he continued to tinker. "They wouldn't make this a lethal device I'm sure. I'm sure they wouldn't. Who oversees this program? It's not Whirl, is it?"

Primus, he hoped not.

"Slog is in Block H, not far from us. Wildfly's a little further, over in 'M'. We get Bristleback and Birdbrain and it'll be just like the old days, eh friend?"

Oh, and Umbra. He supposed he could spare a moment to ensure that she was free as well, once he had relieved Scowl of this indignity.

"There!" Icepick burst in a moment of excitement and satisfaction as the locks inside the device began to release and Icepick could pull it far enough away to begin severing the basic wire connectors. "Enjoy!"

Garrus-9--Command Center

"What?"

Was all that Apeface managed to blurt out for a while after Snapdragon had finished voicing his concerns. Well, that and a dumbfounded look on his bestial face. Exaggerated look of course. There was no other way. Not with him.

Apeface even raised a finger to object and rise a point but Snapdragon just went on to ignore the gesture altogether and decided to go all sycophant with the High Commander Scorponok. The nerve. Rarely had he been insulted like this deeply. Most of time he deserved whatever pathetic insults flung at him by those with the guts to face the consequences but such betrayal by Snapdragon? Unthinkable.

What the slag was up? After thousands of vorns of sleazing and sloth through their lives for not other reason than to be both feared an let alone to mind their own business - Snapdragon had made a 180 degree turn and had suddenly decided he wanted a promotion. What next? Perhaps a real estate business in Crystal City? Hnn. What if one of those green skinned organics from Nebulos had wormed its way to Snapdragon's head while he hadn't been looking? Frag. That made about as much sense as Snapdragon's sudden change of behavior. Which didn't make any sense to begin with - to Apeface at least. Not after all these long years of successfully exploiting the image of being a simpleminded hoodlum.

Scorponok didn't seem to be very interested in Snapdragon's proposal either, for the gargantuan Decepticon warlord made no move to step aside or stop firing. Instead, both Horrorcons received a laser form datastream beamed directly to their display HUDs. It was a tactical update on Scorponok's current strategy. They would flank the Autobots and force them to fall back and scatter through superior firepower. Rushing forwards before Fortress Maximus gave out his current position was out of question.

"Patience Snapdragon. You will get your chance yet."

Yeah, that's what Apeface thought he heard Scorponok saying thorough all the noise their weapons were making. And it made sense. Apeface felt no imperative of charging into Fortress Maximus' formidable array of guns. Heck, when a so called pacifist had guns in his legs - it only meant trouble.

At least Treadshot understood his position. Oh sure, the gunslinger did test the waters but then again Treadshot had earned the right to survive such a minor detail for Apeface did respect the gunslinger's skills enough to tolerate him that much.

"Much obligated Treadshot." Apeface grunted in response as he caught the rifle from air. It was time to kill some more Autobots. A necessary distraction from Snapdragon for sure. But this was not over. His partner in crime better had to have a good explanation for all this slag since they had steamrolled through Nebulos. And Apeface was going to get that answer. One way or another.

Garrus 9 – Leaving Cell Block B

He hadn’t yet dropped the inhibitor claw. Just in case the Decepticon decided to lunge and take him down, Regulator could use the device as a makeshift weapon.

While waiting for Stingray’s response about how they should handle things a scream echoed through the cell block. Unlike the Decepticon, Regulator physically jumped, not off his feet but high enough to be noticed. He dropped the claw nearly missing the front of his foot. Regulator stepped back slightly and looked over his shoulder in the direction of the cry.

With his attention, and mind, still focused on the noise he was caught off guard when Stingray finally spoke up. His head snapped around. “Uh, weapons. Right.” He looked in all directions before he turned around and began moving toward the security station.

Regulator was careful not to move too quickly so as to keep Stingray as close by as possible. She was, after all, the fighter of their little duo. He just knew his way around.

For a while the security specialist remained silent. His mind, however, was working on overdrive, calculating the best routes to take and the most secure access points to venture into. When they finally reached a cross section Regulator stopped and pressed his back flat against the wall. He waited a brief moment before peeking around the corner.

While scanning around he spoke to his companion in a whisper. “I’m sorry. You know, for earlier.” He pulled his head back around and looked at Stingray. “I hesitated.” Regulator gave her a weak smile and quickly turned his optics to the floor. “They prepare you for how to handle equipment failures and maybe how to handle a hostile prisoner or two. But they never prepared me, us, for what to do when an entire prison full of hostile prisoners break loose.” Regulator drew in a deep breath and let it slowly. He had heard from his brother that most organic life forms did this to calm themselves. At first he had laughed in Actuator’s face, but once he gave it a go he apologized. "The way I saw it; you're a 'Con and once I opened that cell you'd be just like the others...loose." He sounded, and felt, ashamed for thinking that way.

Regulator shook his head slightly. The sound of heavy footfalls caused him to freeze in his place. His back pressed even further into the wall. Had he the ability he would have merged with it. Another deep breath and a silent but controlled exhale, Regulator very carefully peered around the corner. He whipped his head back around and sagged slightly. “Slag. ‘Cons. Two of them.” His voice was low and laced with concern.

“They’re between us and the security station.” The mech looked to the femme and worried expression plastered on his face. “What do we do now?”

Garrus 9 - Cell Block B Security Station


The way I saw it; you're a 'Con and once I opened that cell you'd be just like the others...loose.

‘Can’t blame you. Cons aren’t exactly a... trustworthy lot,’ Stingray replied, still scanning the corridors. For a brief moment, he caught Regulator’s glance. ‘But thanks for trusting me, anyway.'

Regulator came to a halt by the next corner. He took a peek out and went pale as he turned back.

Slag. Cons. Two of them. What do we do now?

Stingray peered out in the direction Regulator had indicated. Two Decepticons, indeed, were slowly making their way through the passageway. Low rank grunts by the looks of them. Tough in build, but slack in gait, completely unalerted. They carried standard blaster weapons.

Overwhelming them was not an option. Even low-rank untrained enemies were more than a match for a femme whose real strength lay in aerial combat and a non-combatant who jumped at his own shadow.

’Stay put,’ Stingray told Regulator as she pushed him against the wall behind an outcrop of stabilizing plate, so that he would be hidden from sight.

The seeker femme stepped out into the open and approached the two Decepticons wandering about the intersection. As soon as they heard her, they spun around and brought their weapons up, trained at her cranium.

’Was ’bout slaggin’ time!’ she rasped at them, apparently unperturbed by being targeted. She lifted her manual actuators into the air, making the badge on her chest and wings plainly visible. ’What took you slaggers’ so long? I’ve been rotting away in a filthy hole for longer than you haven’t touched femmes.’

The two combatants lowered their weapons and chuckled, looked over Stingray and nodded appreciatively at her slender figure. As Decepticon greetings went, this was one of the better ones.

’You just busted out, pretty face?’ One of them asked, flashing a grin at Stingray he thought was charming. He was alone in his assumption.

’Well, yeah, when that big... crash came. The door to my cell crumpled open, wham, I smacked a guard and got out. Whatever the slag you did, it was one hell of a drop to stir up the place like that.’

’You shoulda seen it. The boss crashed a captured ’Bot ship into the compound. Heh, were those the fireworks!’ snorted the other one in amusement.

This is bad, Stingray thought. Her fears were confirmed: if they pulled a move like that, the Decepticons were here in major force.

’Who’s in charge, anyway?’ she asked.

’Lord Scorponok. Most of his task force is here an’ they’ve thrown a slaggin’ cool party.’ The two Decepticons laughed. It was an evil, cruel laugh.

For a moment, Stingray felt a sudden dizziness and almost fell out of act at the mention of Scorponok’s name. One of them most dangerous, cruellest Decepticons. If he was here, this operation had to be more than a simple raid. Stingray had no inkling what the real purpose of it could be and she had no desire to find out, either.

’Alright, would someone finally give me a gun?’ She whined. ’You two are having fun, but I’m standing here aft-naked and left out. I have unfinished business with the lot o’ these slaggers.’ She held out a manual actuator, a pouting scowl on her faceplate.

The two mechs chuckled again. One of them drew a secondary sidearm which seemed to have no shortage of power output, judging by its bulk and heavy barrel. He spun it around in his actuator and handed it over to Stingray.

’Say, pretty face, when this whole shebang is over, maybe I could give you somethin’ els...’ he started saying but was cut off by his own gun being pressed into his face. And before he could realize what was happening, the gun discharged, blowing his cranium into a mist a fluid and armor fragments.

Trailing smoke and ejecting more fluid from the torn, charred neck stump, the mech crashed loudly on the ground. His partner watched in dumbstruck incredulity, his optics slowly shifting from the dead wreckage to Stingray.

He may have moved, had he been given a chance. But the next shot clipped his midsection and burned some of his plating away, knocking him on the ground. Ha was about to start thrashing and fight back when Stingray was on him, loosing two more blasts into his torso and disintegrating his forecranium with a third one.

She slumped back, slowly as if dragged, off the wreck and grabbed the wrist of her gun-holding arm. It trembled heavily.

So... different. For a long, very long time Stingray had had no qualms about callously taking the lives of other beings. But now, if felt as if her spark cracked. The fuel processing unit in her abdonmen knit into a tight not.

Get up, get up! she commanded herself. You did what you had to but you don’t have much time. You have to move!

She clambered her way back to Regulator.

’Come on, the way is free...,’ she grabbed him by the arm. ’I’m... sorry you had to see that.’

Garrus 9 – Cell Block B Security Station

Flat against the wall Regulator watched while Stingray stepped over and peered around the corner verifying that he had indeed spotted two ‘Cons. Perfect. Just slagging perfect. The worried rant that was running through his processor paused when the femme pushed him back further down the hall and out of sight. He wasn’t going to argue. Although he was concerned that she was heading out in the open with no means of defending herself.

“You slaghead. She’s a ‘Con. Those two idiots won’t think anything of her sudden appearance.” Regulator waited a moment and then slunk to the corner. After psyching himself up the security officer took a careful peek to see what was going on.

He grew nervous when one of the two brutes handed Stingray one of his sidearms. Once this femme comes back I’ll know for sure if she’s gonna keep her word.

His head shot up when he heard the first gunshot. To his feet and around the bend, and now in full view, he watched while Stingray fired off another round catching the remaining ‘Con in the midsection dropping instantly to the floor.

Regulator’s optics remained glued on both femme and mech. That ‘Con tried to fight back tried to move but she was already on him. Another shot and then another. One more. This last one seemed louder than the others.

He stared. How could he do anything but stare? Lying on the floor were two mechs. One with nothing but a smoking stump for a head and the other sporting brand new ventilation holes in his torso and one in his forehead.

The Autobot had never seen this. Never had he witnessed the demise of another mech. Yet this was war. Regulator’s optics remained on both dead Deceptions; he never even registered the way Stingray was now reacting.

He only broke his gaze when he felt the femme grab him by the arm. Without a fight he let her pull him along while he looked back at the corpses that would remain in the corridor to rust.

’I’m... sorry you had to see that.’

“It’s. It’s okay.” The ‘Bot looked over at her and then returned his full attention to the hall in front of them. “You did what you had to do.” He really wasn’t sure what else to say. Well, maybe one thing. “Thanks. For what you did back there. I don’t think I’d still be in one piece, or alive for that matter, if it wasn’t for you.”

Regulator never looked over at her. No reason for both of them to feel uncomfortable.

“There’s the security station.” He pointed to the last door on the left. “There’s a weapon’s locker in the back.” Regulator jogged ahead and stopped by the security pad next to the door. With a silent prayer to Primus that his codes still worked, Regulator typed and then hit enter. There was a pause and his spark sank but then the door slid open.

A smile grew on his face at their small victory. That smile fell as the security officer stuck his head into the room. It was dark and the lights didn’t seem to detect his head’s entrance. “Power’s out. It’s pretty dark in there. We’re gonna have to use infrared…hope you’ve got them.” Regulator tapped the finial on the side of his head lowering a visor over his optics. He then sent a nod at Stingray and slipped inside. He reached behind him offering an open hand for Stingray to take if she needed it. “Come on. Follow me.”

Garrus 9 - Cell Block H

Slog was relieved that someone had heard his half-hearted request for assistance. It was someone that he did not recognize. Not surprising really. He had been in here long enough for the memories before he was stuck in his eternity here to erode away a fair amount. However, this one seemed to know who he was. Odd. Maybe tales of the Monstructor Six were still told here and there.

The Decepticon blasted off the door to this cell. A smile formed under Slog's faceplate. Freedom. At long last. There were a fair few things that were on his to-do list, but...they'd have to wait until Slog saw to the freedom of his teammates. Still clutching the metal rod, Slog exited his cell and looked at Banzai-Tron as he made his offer. Well...not really an offer so much as a demand. And a poorly executed one at that.

"You know...negotiating is much more effective when you don't give up the only leverage you have before making an offer. Irregardless, I must see to the freedom of my teammates. I'm sure there will be some of my Autobot captors on the way. Cell Block M is this way. Come."

Slog moved past Banzai-Tron not knowing if the mech would follow him and not really caring. Wildfly, if he hadn't escaped by now, was sure to be going mad inside of his cell. It wouldn't really be hard to find him if he was out and about. Wildfly tended to have a noticeable presence.

------

Garrus 9 - Cell Block B

Slagging, glitching spawn of Unicron, these and other profanities were what were going through Umbra's processor as Mandate slipped out of her grasp. This was bad for her. Very bad. And they both knew it. As another sickeningly sadistic smile spread over Mandate's face, Umbra readied herself to counter the next blow. He set his stance. He moved, leaning back to deliver a powerful kick toward her chest. Umbra threw herself to the side, narrowly avoiding the devastating blow.

She landed roughly and quickly scrambled to her feet looking toward the exit. The hole just large enough for a mech her size to squeeze out. There was also an unfamiliar face on the outside looking in. Decepticon, from the insignia on his chest. A fellow prisoner or one of the ones now streaming throughout the facility, she had no clue and cared even less. He was sorely needed assistance. And with the Autobot emblem torn away from her own chest, this Decepticon would never know where her allegiances formerly belonged.

Mandate's snarls of vocalized profanity brought Umbra's attention back to the sadistic guard. He was storming toward her yet again. Umbra's optics narrowed to thin slits as he approached. He lunged with another vicious cross. Umbra quickly lifted her arms up to guard as the punch was deflected off to the side yet again. Rather than grabbing his arm again, Umbra lashed out with a vicious kick of her own, connecting with the back of Mandate's legs and toppling the guard.

Without any hesitation whatsoever, Umbra sprang on top of the guard and wrapped herself around one of his arms, heaving back with all her might. With a rather loud and sickening pop, Mandate's arm came out of its socket. Turning about to do the same to Mandate's other arm, Umbra found herself being snatched by the neck and lifted away from Mandate's body. Viciously and desperately, Umbra clawed at Mandate's face, trying to gouge out his optics - something, anything to bring agony to this abomination and keep herself alive.

Unfortunately, Umbra couldn't quite reach Mandate's optics. Instead, Mandate slammed Umbra to the floor and slowly rose up, positioning himself over her. Another one of his disgusting smiles managed to spread over his face again now that he once again had the upper hand. He began punching her in her face. Endlessly. Repeatedly. The taste of energon filled Umbra's mouth and leaked out of her cracking face guard.

"Help..." she called to the mech standing outside of her cell.

Garrus 9 – Cell Block H

If there was a mouth underneath that sculpted face-plate of Banzai-tron’s, he would be scowling at the Monstercon’s response. He turned from the cell and began to follow Slog through the prison.

You could say the Intelligence officer didn't have the greatest of "people skills," having spent most of his time in the Intelligence facility ordering generic Decepticon troops around.

He began to think up something he could retort back to the Monstercon leading the way through the prison, but anything he would have tried would be shot down like his last order. Slog had most likely spent so much time in this prison under the command of the Autobots that he probably wouldn't be too keen into taking orders after he had just been freed from his imprisonment.

"So Slog, I think we may of gotten off on the wrong foot back there." Banzai-tron stated to the Monstercon, trying to appear to his better judgement. "You must have been locked up in here longer than I assumed you have been. You don't seem to know who I am as well as the other Decepticons do. I am Banzai-tron; Head of Decepticon Intelligence."

Garrus-9--Auxiliary Corridors

The fighting was intensifying, but Fortress Maximus had been expecting that all along. Given the nature of whatever Scorponok was ultimately trying to accomplish by coming here, it was going to get worse before it got better. This was not some ill-planned commando raid by someone like Lockdown. This was a full-on assault by one of the more feared lieutenants in the whole Decepticon command hierarchy. Maximus didn't fear him though, or any of the other 'Cons for that matter. He just wanted his shot at taking this 'Con off the map, but he also knew he had to be smart about it. Charging headfirst like Brawn wasn't going to net the best results.

>>"Max, taking fire on our afts! They're behind us! How the slag--?"<<

>>"--coming from both sides! We can't--!"<<

Maximus scowled, as a few random shots had indicated that he was taking fire from his six also. Scorponok was playing some crafty games, but Max had no time for games. It was time to end this insanity, which had been the main reason behind his putting the call into Rung. The Last Resort protocols were named as such for a reason, given the potential lethality to both staff and inmates once they were engaged. The last time they had been was before Max had even taken over the warden position, but he'd read the reports and they weren't pleasant. There were certain failsafes and scanning tech in place designed to keep Autobot military and civilian staff safe, but they weren't foolproof.

On the upside, in the time since, Maximus had run numerous additional drills about what staff were to do if they were ever enacted: where to be, what to do, and ultimately how to keep yourself safe. But even those drills had logged multiple loopholes that could never fully be corrected. All he could do now is hope that his staff had taken those drills to heart, because now it was time to use them for real.

>>"Copy that, Rung. Prepare accordingly. This is no drill."<<

Maximus turned, his automatic weapons tearing up the walls and shredding some of the cover that several Decepticons suddenly launched themselves behind once they discovered his attention was now focused on them. The firing on certain weapons stopped momentarily as plasma and physical ammo was restocked into Maximus' systems while new weapons fired up. Missiles launched and everything in Maximus' forward path went up in flames as the massive Autobot stalked forward.

That was not to say that he was impervious, however. Far from it. Scorponok's little gambit had paid off to some degree, as evidenced by the charred flames rising from the warden's back and shoulder section. But none of his systems had left the green and the Decepticons were still getting the worst end of the deal when it came to engaging him.

A shoulder-fired rocket came whistling down the corridor before slamming into Maximus' right leg, staggering the Autobot commander. He dropped to one knee just as another Decepticon used it as his opportunity to close in on him and began unloading his weapon into Max's heavily armored-chest cavity, cackling like a madmech. Maximus weathered the assault, as he was designed to do, only scowling as he reached out and grabbed the Decepticon squarely by his head, crushed it and dropped him to the ground.

Limping towards the next wall panel, Maximus could see what looked like Skullgrin through the smoke and flames regrouping his unit. At the other end, Horri-bull was closing in. The hyenas had found their wounded lion.

Reaching the base console, Maximus patched in and opened a comm with all Autobot and civilian staff.

>>"Last Resort protocols engaging. This is not a drill,"<< Maximus transmitted calmly in the furor of battle. He systems began activating the code sequences that would release the security locks on the system. >>"And whatever Scorponok is using to bounce his men in here, I want that system scrambled, NOW!"<<

The Autobot warden steadily worked his way through the series of administrative security bypasses that were in place in order to keep these protocols from simply being engaged accidentally.

Use this now, before it actually does become our last resort, Maximus thought.

As the final system of locks released, a tremor began in the command center and began steadily reverberating outward throughout the entire installation. Walls began to shift, as did floors and ceilings, revealing automatic weapon and missile batteries where previously there had only been flat, nondescriptive metal. Not fifty meters from where Max was now standing, the floor dropped out from beneath a pair of advancing Vehicons, crushing them in the transformation sequence before floor turrets rose up to replace them. The systems briefly scanned Maximus, recognizing his Autobot staff credentials before swiveling around.

Skullgrin and his men did not register similarly, and the weapons began to fire, just as they did all throughout the facility at any mech who did not bear the same security clearances.

Max looked back at the command center, knowing that the protocols were not yet finished. The fact that he could still see the command center was proof of that. He knew he wouldn't have to wait long, though. Normally the Last Resort system was designed to keep the mechs on the inside secure and to keep everything else out. In this case, keeping Scorponok and whatever cadre he had with him locked in one area would work just as well. As the tremors continued and the protocols approached completion, Max would sweep the auxiliary corridors and help his men before circling back to the command center to finish this.

Just get comfy in your cage, Scorponok. I'll be with you shortly.
___

Command Center

One Autobot had fallen. Two, three. It was not long before Sinnertwin had lost count, reveling in the savagery of what he was being allowed to do. It had been an eternity since he had been allowed to unload like this, with such a vast variety of targets that were willing and able to fight back. It was an indescribable sensation. But the Terrorcon had no need to describe. Only enjoy it.

When the floors began to shake, Sinnertwin had initially discounted it as being nothing more than an aftereffect of the battle. But no, this....this was something more.

One of his fuel-stained heads lifted itself up from the corpse of the Autobot he was chewing through, followed quickly by the other. All around the command center walls began to slam into place, panels lifting and shifting as the entire area seemed to be turning into a walled-off panic room. Weapon turrets appeared that were initially turned outward, obviously designed to face whatever threat might breach this last line of defenses. It only lasted for a moment, however, as the systems began scanning and detecting non-Autobot signatures that were already inside the command center.

Sinnertwin began to back away slowly, growling as one of the double-barreled turrets in the ceiling swiveled around, almost as if it was looking for a target before ultimately settling on him. One of the control-system indicators flashed red and the weapon began to fire, along with every other defense weapon surrounding the command center.
___

The tremors. They had been the first indication that the game was well and truly changing. Mindwipe looked up from the assortment of monitors that had previously been holding his attention while he and Cipher did their work.

It felt like....like....the base was transforming.

Oh my god, we're inside a Metrotitan, Mindwipe panicked, barely keeping the fleeting, terrifying thought from escaping his vocalizers. No.......hah.....that would be ridiculous. But......whatever was going on could not possibly be for their benefit.

Mindwipe watched as the room shifted and corridors disappeared as reinforcement walls slammed into place and weapons systems began to emerge from previously hidden compartments. They turned at different angles, obviously scanning for something. Scanning for targets.

Mindwipe's mouth slowly gaped open.

Scanning for them!

"Cipher, get down!" Mindwipe shouted and attempted to tackle his colleague to the ground as their world was suddenly put under assault, only this time from unmanned Autobot weapons that were much closer in proximity than Maximus and his men had been. Hang the rest of them, save for mighty Lord Scorponok of course, but he and Cipher had much work yet to accomplish.

Garrus-9--Command Center

"Better news than I expected. Keep in touch with Cyclonus." Scorponok replied to Soul Siren's report. "Keep seeking for a way to communicate with him without the enemy crippling our communications. The instruments of this command center won't be any use to us for much longer. Fortress Maximus is too cunning to not have installed a fail-safe protocol to be used in case his precious penitentiary gets compromised."

Indeed, they were running out of time. If the Autobots truly were as cunning as Scorponok was willing to give them credit for, those said defense protocols were going to be initiated any moment now - given how Maximus must have realized by now that he had no fighting chance against the marauding Decepticon horde otherwise. The Autobots simply lacked the numbers are resources in Garrus-9 to do so.

"Sparkstalker! Have your technicians do what they can before the Autobots cut the command center out of the prison central network!" Scorponok didn't really want to hurry his technicians for that often led to failure under stress, the situation though was becoming more and more frustrating by the minute. He needed to know what his team of hackers and dataminers had succeeded in achieving and he needed to know it now. "Wingspan! Cipher! Have you found anything useful in the prison archives?"

Before any of the technicians managed to utter a full sentence, things took a turn for worse for the Decepticon invaders. Just as Scorponok saw his troops moving to position on the grid, his acute sensor arrays picket out a strong signal being sent out from Fortress Maximus' approximate position, followed by a sound not too much unlike that of a sound of hundreds electric locks being opened.

Scorponok was not just going to wait what came next. Instead he bellowed out a warning to his troops whom were not blessed with highly sensitive sensor arrays.

"Decepticons! Prepare yourself! Automated defenses incoming!"

True to his own warning, Scorponok transformed into his formidable battle mode that closely resembled an animal within the arachnid family dreaded by many earthlings - a scorpion. Now resistant to the trembling which soon began and swept many of his soldiers off their feet, Scorponok's sensors began scanning for any changes in the layout of the command and its surroundings. Luckily enough, the command center itself did not hold any automated weapons as it was meant to be one of the few safe havens for the staff to gather into in a situation warranting activation of the Last Resort. But the Decepticon attack had left the command center exposed. The doors leading into it from the approximate direction of each ward were wide open - allowing the automated weapons on the corridors to fire into what they were normally meant to protect.

This however, was not much of a problem for someone of Scorponok's power and abilities. Same couldn't be said of his troops though. The turrets had to be eliminated fast. Which was something Scorponok sought to do to through all of the formidable weaponry he was equipped with. The moment his scanners spotted automated turrets appearing from their hidden positions, he blasted them apart. Given how the positioning of his electron stinger and twin photon blasters offered him 360 degree firing range, Scorponok was able to erase the defenses from each corridor relatively quickly. Although, not even he had been able to act fast enough for none of the turrets to fire inside. Fortunately enough, the losses had been minimal inside the commander center. Now, the fate of the squads he had sent to flank out Fortress Maximus? That was completely different matter. Either they were competent enough to clear the defenses from a small area and dig in to defend themselves until the Decepticons were able to fight their way through the Autobots and their automated defenses, or they'd find themselves overwhelmed. It was unfortunate but Scorponok was in no position to assist them at this time. Pushing through facility full of internal defenses, without secure supply chain and while being flanked by the enemy would prove to be far too costly.

"Barricade the doors! We will dig in and defend this position!" Scorponok barked out new set of commands to Decepticons currently in his presence, partly to deceive Autobots that might be in range to hear the command. Oh, they would defend the makeshift prison cell Fortress Maximus had turned the command center into. At least for a while to give the Autobot Commander the impression of his trap having worked. Scorponok had no intention of staying in the command center for long though. Not with there being nothing to gain from it anymore. Through activating the defense transformation of the penitentiary, Fortress Maximus had effectively robbed Scorponok from any chance of achieving his goals within a timeframe he had desired.

Still, it had not changed the outcome. Just prolonged the inevitable. The Decepticons had the prison planet sieged. The war of attrition would be in Scorponok's favor.

Steelhaven breach point

Tentakil pushed himself backwards into a wall the impact added to the din that was already going on around the Seacon. A weak groan was emitted from the opportunistic autobot that was on his back.

Stepping calmly away allowed the ruined autobot to slide down the wall while the sight that assaulted Tentakil’s optics was one of a massacre the Terrorcons where tearing slag up the sight was sobering. Thou in Tentakil’s mind he was finding it interesting watching the monstrous con’s dismember and chew their way forward.

Looking around Tentakil found Nautilator trying not to get shot again “Hey Nautilator let’s get a move on the Terrorcons are getting all the fun” the yell was playful but it was true with the Terrorcons leading the charge the opportunity to embrace his particular form of death dealing was limited.
Heading forward Tentakil headed into the gloom of the ruined starship.

Garrus-9 Cell block B

“Help...”

That was all the confirmation that Bludgeon needed as he sprung into action.

The electric warrior caught Mandate’s arm as he was about to launch another punch and easily manipulated it around before shunting him back out of the cell block. “Picking on an trapped foe is bad sport better sport is fighting someone upright” Mandate threw a lazy punch bludgeon watched it head towards him he lent to the side and launched a series of strikes which did a bare minimum of damage to the outer armour but the vulnerable servos, pistons and micro fibre muscle bundles underneath the armour erupted causing the Autobot’s arm to go limp.

It was then that Bludgeon unleashed a barrage of kicks and punches which left mandate dazed before he stepped forward the film of dust that still covered his frame continued to give him the illusion of moving in slow motion he levelled the autobot with an electric bolt from his hand.

Satisfied that the autobot wouldn’t be able to move for the next few cycles while his remaining motor systems rebooted, Bludgeon turned his attention to the mech that was the object autobots attention the decepticon’s optics took in that the insignia had been violently removed.

Extending his hand to aid the mech to her feet he spoke in his hauntingly chilling voice

“My, My what do we have here?”

Garrus-9 – Steelhaven Breach Point

Nautilator found it difficult to sever his gaze from the two Terrorcons while they feasted on their mangled prey, despite the sight being disgusting and atrocious. As much as he loathed to admit it, there was almost this hypnotic quality about it, like he had to stand there and keep looking back at the Terrorcons. Like he had to keep an optic on them.

Nautilator concluded his reason for watching the savage creatures was fear. Fear that once they had finished...he would be next. And there would be nothing he could do about that, except for scream and struggle and eventually end up inside their processing systems in multiple ragged pieces.

“Hey, Nautilator, let's get a move on.”

Pushing away all his fear, paranoia and disturbing thoughts, Nautilator returned to reality. Tentakil had called out to him—had already started walking off, too. This suited him just fine.

“Hey! Wait for me!” Nautilator ran over to Tentakil, taking many awkward, bumbling steps to reach him.

Garrus-9 might still be filled with plenty of Autobots who could easily clip two Seacons, but Nautilator would rather take his chances and spin the Wheel of Fate than hang around with those Terrorcons. They gave him the creeps as much as Seawing did. And that was saying something.

Command Center

To say Wheelie was out of his element would be an understatement. Not only was he now in the middle of a seeming -- no, there was no doubt about it, this was a battleground filled with meaningless death and the chaos of war, but he was on the attacking side, the side that murdered Cleff. This wasn't good, and he didn't know how to get out of it, either.

Well, at the very least, he was in a spot where there didn't seem to be that much fighting, despite the Horrorcons being there and devouring anything in sight. He felt relatively safe, but at the same time he felt a chilling solitude about him. Even in the cacophony of laserfire, the roars of beasts and the screaming of those unlucky enough to happen upon the Horrorcons, Wheelie felt alone. Wheelie felt cold. So much death around him, so much pointless death...

He was interrupted by movement between his feet. That... Wasn't a good sign. Walls shifted and weapons protruded from walls to face the room's occupants, Wheelie included. Still in a daze, Wheelie acted upon instinct and leaped for a wall and pinned himself to the adjacent corner of a column. He would have to make himself small to be the the last one to be prioritized by the autoturrets, if what he read from his datapads was true.

Off to the side of the room was Mindwipe and Cipher, cowering behind a terminal. Wheelie was scared, but not for their safety or for his own, but what scared him more than anything the fact that he felt no pity for them. He didn't even feel rage, just... Nothing. He hated pointless death, yes, but justice isn't pointless. It was a dark feeling in him, and he hated himself for feeling it.

But there was that other part of him that did the opposite...

*****

Prison Cell 117

If he had the strength to do it, and the lack of common sense, Nightbeat would be banging his head against the wall or the door to his cell. There were worse things that could have happened, yes, for instance he could have been imprisoned on the Insecticon ship. A chill went down the slouched Nightbeat's spine at the thought.

"Say, you wouldn't happen to know who's in charge of this invasion, wouldja?" Nightbeat asked his question aloud, so that anyone, Pointblank or not could answer.

Another thought came to him. What if he was to be interrogated? That would most likely happen, considering his rank and him usually being "in the know" about things. Frag; he'd have to find a way to resist, and Decepticon torture is the worst of the worst. They value life like they value subordinate's opinions. A hint: they don't. He had to find a way to avoid interrogation at all costs, even if it meant- Something pricked his finger. Nightbeat looked down and saw that he was still holding the piece of Skyhammer's armor. Therein lies an idea...

Nightbeat knelt down to the bed that was in his cell and bit down upon it as hard as he could. In his left hand he held the shard, and in the palm of the right lay it's destination. Locking his jaw actuator, the detective, in a quick motion, dug the tip of the blade-like shard into the palm of his hand. All that was heard was a groan of pain as he had locked his jaw onto the table to let no noise out and to avoid damage to his mouthpiece. Nightbeat dug in the back left corner of the shard into his thumb-joint and let it come to a rest. With any luck, they won't check his hands when they do take him away.

Unlocking his jaw, the detective let out an exasperated gasp and collapsed against the bed weakly. Hopefully he wouldn't be interrogated, but, from how things were going, he wouldn't put it past the Decepticons, and you couldn't be too careful.