Seibertron.com Energon Pub Forums

(All events taking place in Tyrest go here)

Approaching Tyrest

One, single rocketing form of a heavy flight craft was making its way, pulling a contrail across the nightly sky of Cybertron, towards the barely alive city state in front, on the horizon.

Tyrest had been very silent and apparently abandoned in latest times, with Decepticon resources running low, mechpower need at more crucial points in the frontline like Polyhex, all but the most necessary personnel was transferred and transported away. The city was dark and empty, only some dim lights flickered here and there, giving sign of the infrastructure still intact, but operating only at minimal output. The silence was only broken periodically by the deep, soft noise the waving of the Rust Sea made.

In comparison, another city state on the other shore of the sea seemed much more lively and bright. Tagan Heights, the only city with resource refinement capabilities and industrial potential left intact seemed to take no pause in working to the Autobots' advantage in the long-lasting war. Tyrest and Tagan have been standing on the opposing sides of the Rust Sea for many millenia, like two giants tirelessly gazing at each other, but the difference between the two had become ever more recognizable. While Tyres was slowly drying out, Tagan prospered in spite of the war, and progressed.

But soon, that all would change.

>> This is Thunderwing, appointed commander of Tyrest, coming in for a landing. Stand by to receive clearance code, << A sudden, sharp and straight transmission broke the ever silent communication ether around the darkened city, as the form of a lone flight craft shot across the sky of Cybertron, pulling a long contrail behind itself in approach.

Some cranial units in the communications center of the city state snapped back to attention as they found themselves on the receiving end of the incoming message. Or rather, order. The first signs of life quickly sprung back to Tyrest as mechanical fingers began to race on control consoles, and the enormous door of the main hangar creaked up and began to slide open to open the newcomer a passage inside.



Tyrest - Command Hall

The form of Thunderwing, now in his robot mode, made his entry into the central control and communications facility with disciplined haste, quickly, but slowly enough to not rush. His mere presence drove all the personnel to pay twice as much attention to their work and show half as much signs of fatigue, or anything else that my hamper their performance.

Some did it out of fear that their own laziness would receive a rebuke, or punishment, some did it out of respect and eagerness. Thunderwing would very well notice the difference between the two, but right now, other pressing matters were at hand than to filter out less preferrable subordinates.

"Commander in the Hall!" The guard next to the door announced loudly as Thunderwing stepped in. All mechanoids present stood up, faced him and brought their hands up for a salute.

"At ease," Was all the arriving commander said and made a gesture with his hand for the officers to lossen their posture.

Stopping in the middle of the command hall, the Valckastan slowly looked around, carefully measuring the readiness of his troops and through them, the city state itself, his deep green optics reading from the slightest of motion and change of facial expression. The many hundreds of vorns he had spent here, it was of no surprise.

It could have been better. The last few vorns spent here were rather passive, not helping to sharpen the senses and keep the condition of the operating force stationed here. But still, it had to suffice.

"We have little time, so I will be brief," He then began. "The main Decepticon force is preparing a full frontal assault on the Tagan Heights, to which this encampment will serve as a staging post and supply station. I expect every facility to be fully operational within fifteen breems, but all as silent and covered as possible. We cannot let the Autobots notice our preparations," Thunderwing spoke, his gaze wandering from one mech's optics to another's, to shake them up and make his point even clearer.

"You have fifteen breems. Dismissed," The Warlord finished with another gesture of his hand. It would be very soon now. Very soon.

Approaching Tyrest

Six wheels snarling and tearing over the battered but still usable highway leading to the city-state of Tyrest, Roadblock was thoroughly enjoying this first chance to stretch his new legs, as it were. He noticed that his fuel capacity and endurance were greatly increased over their previous levels, especially so long as he remained inside his outer vehicle shell. The citadel of Thunderwing loomed on the farthest horizon, and so Roadblock opened a secure comm channel.

>>"Tyrest control, this is Ground Forces Command Roadblock inbound from Kaon," he said. "Open yer doors an' let my boys in."
Shores of Tyrest

Leaving the other Decepticons behind in order to carry out their master's orders, Weirdwolf and his two other compatriots broke off as the others neared the citadel. They adjusted their flight path to take them toward Tyrest's shores. From there, they could fly over a particularly narrow part of the Rust Sea to the boundary that marked the beginning of the city-state of Nova Cronum.

"Autobots kill will we!" Weirdwolf very nearly salivated behind his mouthplate as the trio flew low over the churning morass of unstable planetary matter.

He expected Skullcruncher would be quite pleased once they approached the far shore and could drop himself into the sea for a dip, and he was sure Mindwipe's mind was quite ablaze with nefarious plottings and forbidden thoughts. His own mind was quite more one-track at the moment.

Weirdwolf simply wanted to kill something. Or rather, [i]something kill!

Shores of Tyrest

Mindwipe smiled at Weirdwolf's vicious exclamtion. His teammates could always be counted on to share his zeal for the kill. Though Weirdwolf was by far the most vocal, the hypnotist was certain that the taciturn Skullcruncher's thoughts ran along the same lines as well. They were cut from the same cloth, hunters all. Indeed, each had been designed to complement the others. There were few units in the Decepticon Empire that could claim half the unity and coordination of Scorponok's three creations.

As they altered their flight path towards Nova Cronum, Mindwipe glanced longingly towards Tyrest. He been hoping to see his protégé Silverstrike before they left Tyrest. When Weirdwolf had changed course he could have insisted that they turn back to Tyrest itself. However, Mindwipe would never pull rank on his fellows, just as he would never hypnotize them. Either was simply unthinkable. So instead he merely allowed his mind to ruminate upon the Valckastan femme.

He had not seen Silverstrike since before the Battle of Polyhex, and wished to take some time to catch up with the troubled femme. The necromancer wondered if the nightmares that plagued her offline hours had returned. He had spent many vorns soothing her traumatized psyche with his hypnotic powers. They were overdue for such a therapy session. The former priest hoped the Circuit-Su meditations he had taught her would help hold back the nightly torment in his absence. Something had seemed...different about her recently. The way she acted towards him had changed in some subtle way the shrikebat could not discern.

With a last look towards her home, he turned his devious mind to present concerns. The time had come to share his plan with his comrades.

"My brothers!" he called. "I have a plan for our...endeavor. Yeess." He motioned his companions closer.

"Here is what I have in mind..."

Approaching Tyrest

Scorponok soared over the city state in his spacecraft mode, circling the citadel that dominated it once before landing and transforming in front of the main entrance. A simple signal from the giant Decepticon general to the fortress and the doors slid open. They did not have time for some sort of official greeting or entrance. Megatron had stressed the timing of this mission above all else and Scorponok wasn’t going to let him down.

He turned and glanced back at Roadblock and the other gathered ground troopers. “Come.” He then walked into the fortress, moving quickly towards the dock facilities.

Tyrest docks

Scorponok stared at the docks, a small smile on his face. Thunderwing had done well in preparing the seagoing vessels. They were not commonly used during the war, Cybertron only having one body of liquid on it, but from time to time one side or the other launched an assault with them. The Autobots tended to use them more do to their lack of flight abilities. They would be a bit surprised to see the Decepticons using them.

He turned to look at the assembled Decepticons around him. “Decepticons, board the ships! The Sweeps will soften up a beachhead for us and then we will land and smash our way into the very heart of their key industrial area. We will rip the Tagan Heights away from them and turn those factories to producing Decepticon munitions. This attack will turn the tide of this war once more into our favor and opens the road to Iacon itself. Now, board the ships!”


Shores of Tyrest

Skullcruncher listened to Mindwipe’s plan. He had to admit that he liked it. This whole mission was going to be very enjoyable. He had been upset that he missed the battle in Polyhex, but this would be even better. There would be no one around complaining about his teeth grinding in battle and he would be able to strike from out of the sea. It was the type of attack he had been built for but rarely got to do. On top of that there would be plenty of Autobots for him to eat. They were an acquired taste, he knew, but he was just hooked on them now. Once you’ve even eating one minibot, you just want more.

Tyrest docks

Quake rumbled through the gates of Tyrest the massive tank roaring on all gears. Quake stopped behind Roadblock as the massive Scorponok transformed right in front of them. "Damn.." Quake exclaimed. Quake needed a bigger cannon he thought to himself, rumbling along Quake headed towards the transport vessels. "Yeeehawww!" Quake exclaimed as his tank tracks climbed up the ramp into the transport vessel.

"Who's your enerigon daddy Ruckus?" Quake exclaimed as he boarded the transport waiting for to depart. The massive tank came to a stop in the back of the transport vessel. "Yeah baby! Only a little longer then we can have some real fun." Quake exclaimed then went silent to control his impulses for destruction.

Over the Rust Sea

As he listened to the plan that the bat-'Con had concocted, Weirdwolf chuckled slightly. Brilliant is the plan...chaos sow shall we! He turned his cranial unit as he flew over the churning rust to give - or attempt to give - his comrade a compliment.

"Superb!" he said. "Are you a manipulator master of, verily!"

If the plan worked, the Autobots in Nova Cronum would dash about like frightened little petrorabbits (Any other kind is there? wondered Weirdwolf), convinced that their territory was under attack from an enormous Decepticon force. In reality, it would be just three - albeit three quite formidable - Decepticons at their proverbial doorstep.

Tyrest docks

The journey to Tyrest had been a disappointing one to Motormaster. The war ravaged Cybertron had very few highway users left to ram and those few surviving neutrals that had guts to use the highways on Decepticon controlled zones were quick to run for shelter when they saw Roadblock's convoy approaching.

Reaching Tyrest did lift his spirits though. Unfortunately they had to cross Cybertron's sole ocean first but nevertheless the chance to get some real action against the Autobots got closer and closer mega-mile after mega-mile. And Motormaster was more than ready.

Tyrest Docks

Rumbling onto one of the seaborne transports, Roadbock took up an entire craft by himself with his massive new form. The vehicle shell's twin shatter cannons rose up on their turret to rotate over the edges of the craft's hull, keeping vigil as the others finished loading. If someone were to attack the Decepticon flotilla, Roadblock would be ready to retaliate.

"Git on board or start swimmin'," he growled, impatient to attack the Autobots as Quake or any of the others. Seeing that the majority were loaded, he revved his engine loudly. "Launch 'em!"

With his command, the assault ships began floating away from the docks of Tyrest, heading out onto the Rust Sea and toward the Tagan Heights.

OOC - Tas and Dev, whoever posts next can go ahead and put the HMs in Nova Cronum. Weeee!

Tyrest Docks

Engine alternately roaring and sputtering, Ruckus boarded one of the moored landing craft at Roadblock's command. He wasn't a huge fan of amphibious warfare, generally speaking. Which wasn't to say he objected to the warfare part--that he liked just fine. It was the amphibious part that he found troublesome. The Triggercon hadn't exactly been optimized for such conditions. And his tendency to forego regular maintenance in favor of remaining in the field for long stretches tended to exacerbate the problem of rusted joints and corroded armor plating that exposure to any large fluidic body tended to entail.

But whatever. He wasn't about to start griping over something as trivial as a little boat ride. And besides, at the end of the trip there was a whole city-state full of Autobot maggots just waiting to be slagged.

His dual rocket launchers angling slightly upward to fire over the bow of the seaborne craft if necessary, Ruckus called out, "Anchors aweigh, boss!"

Slag, he hoped this thing didn't get sunk halfway across. Having to swim across the Rust Sea would be a real pain in the aft.

Crossing the Rust Sea

"Time to git this dust-up started," Roadblock growled as the amphibious transports lunged and dove over the Rust Sea's waves. This cycle was a particularly rough one on the Sea; in all likelihood, the Autobots would never expect an attack in such conditions. But Roadblock and the others would walk to the Tagan Heights on the bottom of the ocean if need be. "I'm in a killin' mood. Someone make this tub go faster."

However, with his new Pretender shell, only one third of Roadblock actually needed to wait for the transports to land on the shores of the Tagan Heights. The vehicle shell's upper section lifted up and from within came the purple and black brute that was Roadblock's Pretender shell, with Roadblock inside. In a single swift transformation, the shell shifted into air skimmer mode, with Roadblock in the cockpit.

"Sweeps, on me!" he bellowed over the waves and the sound of his own engines. Around him, dozens and dozens of Sweep drones formed up in orderly formation.

"We'll leave somethin' for ya'll..." Roadblock roared with laughter as he and the Sweeps shot ahead of the others to soften up the beachhead for the Decepticon landing.

Crossing the Rust Sea


Quake waited on the transport while they crossed the Rust Sea. "Roadblock just thinks he is so cool." Quake exclaimed as Roadblock went off ahead, having converted into his tank mode in order to board the transport, Quake's massive cannon started to raise into the air, lifting upwards to increase Quakes range. The heavy sound from Quakes interior could be heard, as a plasma shell was loaded into his plasma cannon. Quake didn't need to wait until they landed either he had a widing range that he could lob plasma shells at.

"Eat plasma Autobots!" Quake exclaimed as a roaring blast echoed across the Rust Sea from Quake's plasma cannon launched a brillant glowing red shell that showered across the Rust Sea. In the sky it looked like a red flare was falling through the sky. Silence followed for the next few moments until a deafening "BOOM" crashed into the surface of the beach head, large amounts of plasma spread in every direction upon impact, causing a large hole to be opened up in part of the beach head.

Quake pounded anther shell into his plasma cannon and opened fire again soon plasma shells started to reign down from the sky all over the beach head as Quake took on the role of heavy artillery. "BURN BABY BURN." Quake exclaimed in great joy and it would be hard to get him to stop firing at this point as explosion after explosion reigned down on the beach head.

Approaching Tyrest
A crimson figure is seen in the skies of Cybertron bearing a unique design. A sleek, needle like design with no apparent wings, but a pair of thrusters keeping it moving through the skies just as easily as a winged craft at a few hundred miles per hour surveying the area.
A radio transmission comes from the craft and with it a soft, relaxing female voice. >
Her voice is monotone. All business and little to no emotion.

Even after surveying the area, she still hasn't received orders so she does not know exactly what is about to take place. After all, things can change in a flash on the battlefield.
But from all the commotion, and the explosive blast ahead of her, it seems that we the Decepticon forces of the area won't be resting and slacking off.
What a relief. What is a war without a battle?

Tyrest Airspace
She waited for the reply to her radioing in, and now and then hearing the faint sounds of battle waged in the distance. Vague explosions and blasts echoing and carried in the wind.
She felt the the pull of it. She wanted to be there. To feel her blades cleave enemy steel. It ate at her, but she were not ordered to go there.
She was to report to Tyrest which is under the command of Thunderwing and thus her discipline holds the desire for battle at bay.
To go investigate the combat would mean practically going AWOL. She might be needed in Tyrest, or in an area other than where she's going for some reason and if she isn't there then she isn't doing her job.
Battles are won and lost.
She can't go play hero and try to turn the tides of every battle. War is not a glory vendor. One must keep in mind that more important things are on the line than one person's glory. Like what? Like Duty, and Honor. And wining in the end!
And if she misses some battles, then that's the way things are.

Her thrusters articulate and she hangs in hover, but not very silently. Her thrusters make some noise so Stealth flight isn't in her resume.

Tyrest - Command Hall

Thunderwing regarded the communication channels and display screens, giving all his attention to the influx of information.

The assault on the Tagan Heights proceeded just as it had been expected. An all-powerful sweep - literally - with the finest and most advanced weapons the Decepticons currently possessed, in spite of their disadvantegous position in the war, had basically crushed the first line of Autobot defenses in a simple matter of short breems.

Besides the usual battlelust and destructive potential of the mechanoids assigned as the ground unit of the attack, Roadblock, Quake, Ruckus, even the Mighty Scorponok himself, these new air warriors did also leave an impression of magnificence and superiority in him.

Thunderwing, although possessing high-standard qualities as an inventor and scientist himself alone, could not help but be amazed at the vast improvements and achievements the accumulation of such knowledge from several minds could produce. The Constructicons creating a virtually invincible new aerial fleet of killing machines, Scorponok's introduction of the so-called Pretender technology were only small bits of the full spectrum Decepticon research and development had produced thus far.

"Sir, inbound Decepticon aircraft requesting landing clearance," A firm voice then reached into Thunderwing's audio receptors. A brief report from one of the operators.

Normally, Thunderwing would have not bothered himself with such small matters, but since the whole station was at an alarmed status, and had to be able to respond to any upcoming circumstance on a moment's notice he wanted to coordinate personally as much as he could.

A swift glance at the operator, then fingers racing on a console, Thunderwing brought up an information panel on his display screen, with all available information on the few patrol crafts around Tyrest.

Shrike...this one should prove...interesting. Thunderwing thought to himself as he read the data on the warrior filing in a request.

"Patch me through," A firm order left Thunderwing's vocalizer as he fully straightened himself. On the operator's keyboard, a few clicks were heard, and the communication array of Tyrest's command hall were already attached to Thunderwing's own systems.

>> This is Tyrest command, Warlord Thunderwing to Shrike. Permission to land, repair and refuel, granted. After you are done, you are to depart to the Tagan Heights and provide artillery support for the Decepticon ground detachement. << The Warlord spoke firmly, his tone not betraying his nature.

Maybe even a bit more firm than it usually had been. After opening the channel, Thunderwing could feel the aerial warrior's longing to fight. A longing that was only kept in check by her sense of duty. A picture that was outrageously familiar to the Valckastan.

As if Thunderwing had looked into a mirror, he, too, longed for a fight. The thrill of the battle, the excitement to face and defeat a foe and then, the delirium and glory of victory. But he, too, had to keep his desire under control, just like the warrior he was talking to.

With this slight gesture of allowing Shrike to depart for a battle, Thunderwing could easen his own tension somewhat, as well as satisfy one of his own soldiers.

Until a greater moment, these small steps had to do.

Tyrest Airspace
>>Understood, Sir. Yes Sir!<<
She let slip a hint of excitement in her reply, but still sounded more professional than not.
She hated that slip of emotion for some reason. Her shell's program may well betray her spark more than she wanted causing those slips of emotion.
There's no rule against showing emotion, but she felt weaker by it. Tipping a hand into her mindset could be dangerous among the Decepticons.
Perform too well, or too poorly, and you're a target. Cross the wrong person, and you've got a bulls-eye on your spark case.
And an unidentified target is far more dangerous than an identified one. She wanted to be the unidentified target.
Her foes wouldn't know her thoughts. They would only know the violence she brought to the battlefield. A violence that one day may escalate to a point of chilling many to the bone and bring about a respect for her abilities. A surgical, effective violence as opposed to the waste of energy wanton violence some employed.
She may slip now and then, but as long as she attains victory against every last being that dare raise her ire she could live with it. Then again she'd have to until it's controlled.

Still, she were deployed where she saw the bright blast. It's relatively close, and the sounds of battle carried best from there. There has to be some excitement to be had there. She couldn't help but sound somewhat pleased by the deployment to the area. She nearly twitched her alt mode's bearings towards there like a divining rod to violence before the reply came.

Her thrusters swiveled and she maneuvers carefully to a fueling station.
She hadn't been in battle recently, so repairs weren't needed.
Her fuel was only lightly drained since her last refueling so she did not take much from Tyrest's resources.
While she enjoyed a full fuel cell, she never did like taking up resources. After all, it might spoil her girlish figure.

After taking minimal time to refuel, not caring for chitchat or rumors when she had a destination in mind, she takes to the air again. She took a heading for Tagan Heights with a determination that once again betrayed her eagerness to enter battle. A sort of determination that came natural and could not be trained.

Why was she so thirsty for the sea of fluids made by dying transformers? Maybe her last post was too quiet, or maybe she were just a natural born warrior?

Either way she hit her top speed blazing over the rust sea like a bullet. Like a hunter sprinting after prey. Like a wild beast salivating seeing a wonderful morsel ready to be devoured. Her forward blades gleam like the talons of her Earthen namesake, and engines howl her battle cry!

What has gotten into her lately? She didn't feel herself.
The desire to fight grew stronger and stronger even on her way towards a promising battlefield. Like a ticking bomb that would make those in the blast very very very sorry that they had gotten so close. She almost pitied the first autobot she'd see. Didn't matter to her who it was at present. A lowly grunt, an officer, or even a general. They just needed to take up arms against her or her brethren.
In her mind no enemy could intimidate her.

Soon she leaves Tyrest airspace on her new assignment.

Over the Rust Sea

The makeshift repairs to Mindwipe's main engines hadn't lasted three breems. He'd been forced to fly manually the rest of the way. Fortunately, as he was the only member of the commando team with wings, it was easy enough to keep up. However, it was exhausting. His energon supply was going to be nearly depleted by the time they reached Tyrest.

The mission had been a success, in no small part due to his own contribution. However, the beating he had taken still wounded his pride. A great deal of his wiring and plating would need to be replaced. It had not been his cycle. Nevertheless, soon they would be back in Tyrest. The necromancer could see to his own repairs once he had the proper equipment.

And he hoped this time, he would be able to find his protégé, Silverstrike. The femme was long overdue for a therapy session. And besides, the former priest found he rather missed her. She treated him with the respect he deserved. The respect that had been taken from him by the narrow-minded priest of Primus.

However, Thunderwing's patronage of the femme in question worried the hypnotist. He respected the Valckastan Warlord, but he did not trust him. To say nothing of the fact that the trauma to his student's mind was the result of Thunderwing's own experiments!

Having remained silent for most of the trip, the battered shrikebat finally spoke up. "Home is in sight...my comrades. Yes."

"And I for one could use...a few repairs. Yes! "

Over the Rust Sea

Flying along in robot mode, somewhat to the left and above his commander Clench, Weirdwolf nodded vigorously.

"A waste, indeed!" he snarled. "Ours victory would be...if mechs a few more, time a little more!"

The tracker wasn't unsatisfied with his foray into Autobot territory, all things considered. They had accomplished the mission they had been assigned, and he had personally sent at least two Autobot warriors feet-first to the med bays. A straight-up raid wasn't his particular area of expertise - the slow, agonizing, meticulous hunt culminating in the delicious execution was more his style - but it had been enjoyable and productive nonetheless.

The fortress of Thunderwing loomed in the distance as they flew along. Weirdwolf glanced at Mindwipe and Skullcruncher. An idea had struck Weirdwolf as they approached their home base.

"Brothers, say what you? A special detail behind the lines, perhaps shall we request...leave yours by, course of, Clench!"

Tyrest Docks

Clench charged into the docks with high speed, sending the few dock workers running for their lives before slowing down and transforming into his imposing robot form. Showing off still pleased him and occasionally he gave in for such primal urges for it reminded him of the thrill of the illegal arena battles back in the days before Megatron forged the Decepticons out of the displeased populace of Cybertron.

"I fear we won't have resources to fix things in Nova Cronum to our liking just yet but I am sure there will be plenty of opportunities for us to slag Autobots before our boys in Tagan Heights and Polyhex have secured their position." Clench gave his reply to Weirdwolf, his sinister looking faceplate covering effectively the scowl on his face behind it. Even though Clench had used to Weirdwolf's strange way of talking it sometimes even took a while for him to process what the slag the tracker was trying to say but it was no use asking Weirdwolf to fix it so Clench had given up on it.

Standing tall even among his brothers in arms whom were no small mechanoids in any means, Clench began walking towards the gates of Thunderwing's fortress.

"Get your hides repaired. I want you to be ready for action within 20 cycles. I am going to see an old friend."

Tyrest Docks

Despite his battered condition, Mindwipe bowed to Clench with genuine respect. "By your word, Commander."

As the shrikebat flitted towards the repair bay, his mind considered the situation. He had only twenty cycles before they departed on their next mission. Restoring his body to fighting form would be simple enough. For the most part, the nature of the injuries made replacement parts more cost-effective than repairs.

However, the next mission was not the only thing on the former priest's mind. He had expected his pupil Silverstrike would have been back by now. Thunderwing kept the femme on a short leash. That she was not present concerned him.

Transforming, the necromancer landed. He walked into the repair bay. Selecting several drones, his hypnotic powers slaved them to his will. With their limbs acting as his own, he quickly began assembling the materials necessary to make himself whole again.

Tyrest - The Dungeon

Like most Decepticon detention facilities, the Dungeon of the citystate of Tyrest, located deep within Thunderwing's fortress was not exactly a place anyone wanted to serve aside the most sadistic Decepticons and those that were too much of a cowards to enter the battlefield proper. Nevertheless, for a prisoner it was far worse although in general there were even worse places for prisoners within Decepticon Empire. That is, unless you happened to be a personal prisoner of someone like... Clench.

"Still alive, eh?" The large Decepticon asked as he entered one of the most reinforced holding cells of the facility. The only response he got was a glare full of hatred, loathing and agony. "Good, good. Still spiteful. If something I admire your spirit."

This particular prisoner had been classified too dangerous to be kept inside traditional energy bar cell. No, it was a security cell that would hold even during a power failure. Walls and the sole door of the cell were made of thick enough reinforced titanium plating to give even Devastator some trouble to crack it open from outside let alone from inside. It was a cell that would have held Clench himself inside as well as it did with the badly beaten Autobot who was hanging there from energy draining cables. For a warrior like Pyro this was worse than death but he would endure as long as he had to. He would not let Clench win.

"I would have been disappointed had you given up now Pyro. After all the trouble you made me go through." Clench smirked and planted his fist firm against the large Autobot's midsection, forcing a pained grunt out of his nemesis. Several more punches followed the first, all powerful enough to maul a weaker transformer into statis-lock, not so with Pyro. But he was weak, there was nothing he could do to stop the abuse and yet he knew Clench was being easy on him due to having already beaten him up so bad.

Pyro could barely make out Clench's words but he heard enough to make his spark cringe. "Tagan Heights fell this orn. Bit by bit this world falls under Megatron's banner. My only regret is that you are not there to witness it through your own optics, heh heh."

"Too bad I am in hurry. These visits are always so pleasant." Clench said, turned his back on Pyro and began to make his way away from the cell.

"I... I will... kill you..." Pyro spat out, making Clench to stop but not to turn.

"I think I have heard that before. You are welcome to try." The large Decepticon mocked and left the cell.

After slamming shut the heavy safety door of the cell and marching out of the detention facility, Clench opened a comm-link to his current team. >>"Mindwipe, Skullcruncher, Weirdwolf. You have had enough time loiter around. Meet me at the Tyrest starport. We will see if our shuttle has been repaired and refitted. If it is ready, we're heading off to reinforce Tagan Heights. If Autobots are going to start launching counteroffensives, Tagan is the place to be."<<

OOC: Combined post of Tasbirk and *Silverblade
Tyrest

One large set back to her speed was trying to slow down. There was no friction to help her stop and she was required to halt under her own power. Fast and agile as she might be, dodging missiles and laser blasts meant nothing when you couldn’t keep from smashing into a wall.

She approached Tyrest her speed dropping significantly. There was no doubt security could see her approach and knew very well who she was, but protocol was to be followed. She sighed inwardly and opened a hale.

>>Tyrest command, This is Silverstrike, requesting clearance for hanger 3.<<

The bay opened as she hovered, soundlessly she entered, transforming before touching the ground. By rights of rank and respect she should have gone straight to Thunderwing, but instead the echo of her footsteps filled the corridors of the repair wing. Her movements brought her to the Repair bay doors, where a familiar voice carried to her auditories causing her expression to brighten.

Mindwipe stood in the repair bay, trading stories and jokes with Skullcruncher. Given the two Decepticons involved, the humor was decidedly black. Currently, the hypnotist was regaling his brother with tales of his manipulation of Kup on their recent mission.

“...And so once I had the old fool believing that, he was fully convinced I had...expired in his arms. The look of confusion in his obsolete optics was priceless! Yes! But the best part is that it actually did happen all those vorns ago! Of course...it was actually I that slew the pilgrims, but that is beside the point! Yes!” The vicious sound of their laughter echoed through the repair complex.

“You beast!”

Mindwipe’s attention shifted entirely to his lissome pupil as she made her presence known. “Silverstrike!” The shrikebat sauntered towards the argent femme with a wicked smile on his face.

The necromancer looked over his shoulder, back to his brother. “If you will excuse me, Brother. I must...complete a long-delayed conversation. Yes.” Mindwipe ushered his pupil to another chamber in the massive fortress.

"A beast, am I?” He asked Silverstrike in jest. “And you are shocked?” Dismayed? I am Evil!"

She raised an eyebrow in a quirking expression.
"No Bats, it was a complement. I like it. You really need to work on your social skills."

Mindwipe chuckled despite himself. He hated that nickname. But for some reason he could not fathom, he tolerated that indignity when it came from his student. He retorted evenly. "That was...a long time ago. Yes."

"Well before me anyhow or at least before I became...this." She waved her hands at her reflective torso.

The former priest scowled at that. "None of that, my Shining One. We are...not the same mechanoids that we were then...Yes."

Silverstrike turned her head to watch Skullcruncher in the other room. "No I suppose we aren’t. War changes things. Though sometimes not as completely as one hopes. You don't think I'm crazy... do you? I mean the dreams? My flaws? I don't even behave like a proper seeker for Primus sake."

“You are more than a mere seeker, my dear. Yes. You are something...unique."

Her attention still averted.
"Unique sounds like freak. I feel like a freak. I envy rapture's confidence, her graceful skills so effortless, and how she can act so cold. Like a True Decepticon. I just can't find it in me to do that."

Waving his hand dismissively, Mindwipe scoffed. "Feh! Rapture pretends nothing! That harpy is a cold as her father. Yes!”

He placed a comforting hand on the femme’s slender shoulder. ”Besides...coldness is not the mark of a Decepticon, child. The will to power is. The strength to bring order to this universe. The courage to do what is forbidden. The willingness to be hated in the name of a better tomorrow."

Silver turned her gaze back to the former priest. Her Brilliant icy optics flashed not in rebuke but in deep interest. She appreciated when he became decisive and gave her tidbits of his secrets. However, he had trained her very well yet he had not spent the time she had with the seekers and had not witnessed the small slips they made. Perhaps it was her mistake for letting the word act fall into her dialogue. She did her best not to smile at him, which was indeed difficult.

"To be hated yes, but perhaps not hated by all. For there is always balance. There can not exist the light without darkness, my master."

He smiled. She was a brilliant protégé. "Indeed. We exist to show the light what darkness is, and that there is strength to be had in accepting the darkness within your own spark. One cannot be whole by denying part of oneself."

She looked down hard at the floor. Was he implying something? Or just being Philosophical? Was he referring to himself? ... Or her? She could not look at him just yet, he would see everything, and it was much too dangerous to let such things happen. It could be used against them if he ever figured it out. Instead, she spoke in a quiet tone.

"Perhaps one day I will be whole. I feel there is something beyond our war, further than the simple conquest of a planet or enslavement of a people. No matter how the future unfolds there will always rise those who oppose the greater power. Weather it be Dark or Light. Peace is no more than a lull in an eternal war, a modulation of all existence. Only when the two merge will it ever end. And I do not see such a thing being possible."

She showed wisdom beyond her ken. "That, my dear, is the question. I'm afraid in thousands of vorns I have found no answer. But I shall search all my cycles. Perhaps that is the point. The search."

His experiments with the dead? He hoped they could help him answer this question. Curriously, his knowledge of antiquity and mystic stories did not help Him? She took the chance and lifted her head, ice optics meeting his warmer hued visuals. He would never give up, he would remain true to himself and that is what she liked about him. She let the smile come forth that she had been holding back. Perhaps he was right she was unique. What other Decepticons saw as weaknesses in their fellows she saw as talented differences, making mechs more than just mere drones.

"I promise I will not stray from your teachings. For to all that we experience There is more than meets the eye."

Mindwipe smiled at Silverstrike, his optics taking on a familiar radiance. “Indeed...Yes. But one the subject of eyes, it is time you looked into mine again. It is time for your ‘therapy session.’ Yes.”

Tyrest – Repair Bay

Skullcruncher hadn’t really been hurt that badly during the raid into Nova Cronum, but it sounded like Clench wanted them in top condition, and he wasn’t about to cross the other Decepticon. The dents in his armor were repaired and a couple of new plates were put on to replace a couple too damaged for a quick repair job. He hungrily guzzled down an energon cube to replenish his reserves to full. He typically didn’t do as much flying as they had undertaken across the Rust Sea.

The swamp warrior then received his orders from Clench. They were not what he was hoping for. Waiting around for a counterattack didn’t sound promising. His hunger for Autobot had not been remotely satisfied by the battle in Nova Cronum. The taste of Autobot really made the hunger worse. On top of that, the Heights were an urban and industrial district. His alternate mode would be more of a hindrance than a help there. Still, he knew better than to argue with orders and it wasn’t really in his nature to complain about them. He slowly made his way to the starport.

Tyrest - Chamber of Silence

Thunderwing's boots hitting the carved, ornamented metal floor sent echoing, but soft clangs across the corridor as he proceeded forward. Even though the section of the fortress he wandered into was like a maze to someone who didn't know their way around properly, the Valckastan did not show the slightest sign of confusion. He knew perfectly well where he was going.

A part of Tyrest - after assigned under Thunderwing's command -, mostly the unused, outworn and obsoleted areas, was redesigned and rebuilt to accomodate the Valckastan warlord's, and others, needs for spiritual training. Traditional meditational chambers, fighting grounds and small armories were set up and equipped, to allow a selected, strong few to prcatice and hone their skills in martial arts and methods of fighting and war, to turn them in service of the Decepticon Empire - and of course, lend the benefit of their loyalty to Thunderwing himself.

The particular chamber he eventually entered was no different. Dimmer, weaker lighting then in other areas of the Tyrest fortress, which of course made little difference with a Transformer's light enhancement abilities, but mediated the aura of the intended spirituality. Even the most loudmouthed mechanoids would consider falling silent. The chambers were set up the way they were directly for that sole purpose.

Apart from the figurative sculptures depicting warriors at the walls, only two shapes were visible in the middle of the chamber. They made barey notable shudders as Thunderwing entered, as if he had come to disturb them.

In fact, he had. And he was perfectly aware of it.

A slight smirk crept across Thunderwing's facial structure, but he was certain the other two did not notice it. Stepping closer to them, his light steps thudding against floor, which was covered by a carved layer showing a mythological scene of two great warriors, Thunderwing cast his flickering deep jade optics on the two mechanoids as he folded his hands behind his back.

"I believe, Mindwipe, that your so called 'apprentice' has no need for any... therapies. Certainly not at this very moment." He spoke, his voice even, but pulsing with strength. He circled a few steps around the hypnotist and the sleek femme, then came to a halt, turned fully towards them, and with a slow, determined motion, placed his hand on the handle of his sword materializing from subspace, and began to unsheath it.

"She needs to... see. To see all that even you cannot grasp, that even you cannot unveil... that you cannot awaken in her." Thunderwing said, his voice turning serious and more powerful, his optics narrowing as he settled his glance on Silverstrike. His sword leaving its sheath, turned to point at the head of the femme, the Valckastan warlord moved into stance.

Then, after an astrosecond that seemed to last for eternity, with blindening speed, Thunderwing struck. It was a strike of body, mind and will, aimed at the femme. And if Mindwipe would stand in the way, he would be cut down, without remorse.

Tyrest - Chamber of Silence

The footsteps of her creator fell like the sound of a judge’s hammer. Silverstrike bit back the anger she felt as it automatically sought to choke her spark in his presence. ~How dare he do this~ As he spoke to Mindwipe her Glacier hued optics flashed cold and dangerous. She did not care if he saw, for he received it often from her….. an unmistakable emotion that NO other Decepticon dared show him and hope to live. She could never forgive him, he had taken all she was, all she had. Being of the same Valckasta make did not soften her anger. Her circuits twisted as she fought to keep her self-control.


She could feel more than see what was coming. In the darkness, in the silence she could feel without use of her optics. Her training has been deadly, elite and secretive imposed upon her by the warlord himself. For Thunderwing’s actions to be lost upon her, would have been an insult to him. Her spark burned through her animosity of him pulsating in synchronizeation with his with the movement of his sword. Her optics never faltered from Mindwipe’s face. Even as the warlord brought his blade level with her head she did not move. It was imperative she controlled her anger at that moment. Strangely Starscream’s voice echoed in her thoughts, his words after she had commented on being faster.

"Not even on your best orn, Sparkles. Run along, now. The sooner you take care of whatever it is the Valckastan wants of you, the sooner he'll let you out to play again."

How sadly wrong the self-absorbed seeker had been.

The Prince of Valckasta was indeed fast but his argent daughter was faster. Speed was her religion it was her very soul. In the heartbeat it had taken the Lord of Tyrest to strike at her, Silver had drawn her saber and spun to meet the power of Thunderwing’s swing. Using her wings and body, she shielded Mindwipe’s face from the flash of energy released as the two blades met, lighting up the legendary rendition etched upon the floor. Blue energy light from her blade caressed her body and her maker’s face reflected in her frame.

His overwhelming strength forced her back, she had not refueled and her light speed return to the cidetel had drained her. She was by far not prepared for this encounter. Her armor fluxed as she slipped and lost control of her casing, unable to maintain a solid state. Desperate not to touch either Mech she gave ground to Thunderwing. Why did he constantly force her like this? Better yet why did she rise to meet his challenges? She told her self over and over she was not good enough to pass his tests. She feared the prospects of what it meant if she ever succeeded.

Staring at the Warlord’s weapon Silver cleared her mind, letting her Metallikato and Valckastan training take over her actions. Sometmes it was as if she was a different mechinoid when she fought melee, her movements becme precise and deadly. Had he been a lesser mech, she could have killed him with her next movement. The warmth and careing personallity that normally enveloped her was gone. Her optics darkened to a deep blue. She could not dance to her Lord’s swordplay if her thoughts were tangled and distracting her as they were.

Silver retorted with a move Thunderwing himself had schooled her with. Her Blade came at him much slower that she was capable of. She knew better, her level of skill was phenomenal yet she held back. She practiced in the dark alone in secret and had created her own techniques, some which quite possibly would impress the imposing Mech. But she never used a single one in battle or in training.

Ironically though she doubted herself she would simply never just back down. The brilliant burn of her sapphire blade came at him.