The Energon Pub

Garrus-9 – Corridors

"I'd be inclined to agree, but I found you, in a kinda/sorta way, didn't I? Maybe my hit percentage is higher than yers.”

“Heh,” Umbra managed a chuckle and shook her head. She would take some levity where she could get it. She picked up something odd coming from one of the other hallways. Voices. Decepticons? She didn’t wanna press her luck any more than she already had so…She didn’t bother bringing it up to the others to investigate. They had their own troubles.

Umbra fell back against the wall beside Stormwrecker, steeling herself. Looked like Whirl and the others weren’t going to make it. So. They were on their own? Scrap. Scrap, scrap, scrap. But she’d seen what one of those things could do. Their little dinky blasters were about the equivalent of throwing debris at it.

"So....should I fire a shot or somethin' t'get their attention?"

“No, no, wait,” Umbra hissed softly, edging around Stormwrecker to the edge of the corner. “Lemme check on them.”

Peeking out, Umbra’s optics went wide, and she immediately recoiled, jumping back into Stormwrecker. Shehissed, “One of them is coming this way!” This was good though. If they could just get them separated then their chances were so much better. “It’s not Monstructor, it’s the other one. Maybe, maybe if…he goes the other way, we can handle Monstructor together…?”


“Oh my!” Synapse let out involuntarily as Apeface heaved him up rather unceremoniously and swung him around the bend. Oh. So it was the Seacons. He supposed that did explain Apeface’s remarks. “Goodness,” Synapse muttered as he was prodded forward after being set down by the rough Horrorcon.

It seemed as though the Seacons relaxed upon seeing that it was just Apeface and Synapse – although some of them rolled their optics or crinkled their faceplates on seeing them. Whether that was because of him or Apeface, Synapse wasn’t quite sure. Ignoring Apeface’s poor attempt at humor, Synapse took a few steps of his own forward, extending his hands to the Seacons.

“Hello, you all. How are-“

“No time for small talk, doc,” Overbite said, pushing past the psychotherapist to Apeface. “Hey, you heard about what’s going on in the amphitheater? Kickback was…vague.”

“He was typical for a bug,” Skalor chimed in from a ways away, having also put down his weapon. “We’re headed that way to check on the boss. He’s not answering comms. Which, you know, a little weird.”

Garrus-9 – Corridors:

Triggerhappy heard... voices. It was odd. They were familiar, but at the same time very much unfamiliar.

His optics were once again blue. Things in Triggerhappy's mind were switching on and off. It was starting to become more often.

"I hear that voice. THOSE voices. The sound of old enemies and friends."

"WHO AR YOUH!"

"I'm... I'm not sure..."

Triggerhappy made his way slowly toward the voices he heard in the corridor. Whether or not they were real he couldn't tell.

His optics then switched to red.

Optics flickered.

Then, again, they remained solid red. His face became contorted with a devilish smile.

With a sinisterly deep growl in his voice, he said toward the direction of these familiar voices,

"My beloved friends, you all know what's coming next. Your destiny is nigh."

The words echoed through the hall. As he kept on walking. Each step with intent. One, two, three...

Garrus-9--Corridors

“No, no, wait. Lemme check on them,” Umbra said, taking the lead. Whatever she saw must not have been good because she almost leapt backward into the old arms dealer. He steadied her and tried to maneuver into getting a look for himself, but it turns out he didn't really need to see what was happening. He could hear it.

One of them was coming.

“One of them is coming this way!” Umbra said, confirming his suspicions. “It’s not Monstructor, it’s the other one. Maybe, maybe if…he goes the other way, we can handle Monstructor together…?”

"Yeah, 'zactly. If it's just one, we totally got this," Stormwrecker agreed, his words exuding way more confidence than he felt on the inside. But that's what was needed now. A little daring.

What he didn't dare to do, however, was get in the way of the approaching gestalt. With each reverberative step, it drew closer until at last it crossed the threshold of the corridor wall. But it did not stop or pay any attention to them, rather it turned--its back now facing them--and continued to stalk forward.

"It's the amphitheater that way, where all of 'em are," Stormwrecker said, the lumbering footsteps growing gradually quieter. "So...I shoot the other one now?"

Garrus-9 – Corridors

Umbra though her spark might short out when the combiner crossed the threshold of the corridor. That moment stretched into eternity. But it passed eventually as it turned its back to them. Umbra sagged briefly against the wall as it vanished from sight and its thundering footsteps began to fade off into the distance. Good. This was probably going to be loud.

"So...I shoot the other one now?"

“Lemme…try first. You can back me up if it goes bad?” Umbra suggested. Scrap. That wasn’t supposed to come out like a question. No, she needed to be confident. Primus knew she was going to need every scrap of it that she could muster. What was she even going to say?! Hey, Icepick, how you doing? Ugh. Trying to shove her panic down, Umbra transformed.

“Here goes nothing, I guess…” she muttered before darting out from around their corner cover and down into the hallway. She went about halfway down before transforming again and sliding to a stop, looking at the ominous figure that towered above her.

“I-“ Umbra stuttered before shotgunning the words stuck in her vocalizer, “ICEPICK! Are…Are you in there?!”

Garrus-9--Corridors

A new Cybertronian entered Monstructor's field of vision. An ominous, low rumble reverberated through the gestalt's body and rattled the floor. The gestalts optics zoomed in and isolated the Decepticon insignia. So, it was not an overt threat, but Monstructor's curiosity had been piqued nonetheless.

“I-ICEPICK! Are…Are you in there?!” the small Cybertronian called out, prompting a twinge of rage to course through Monstructor's mind. Icepick? Icepick. Yessss, one of the pieces. The six flawed pieces that had to be joined together for him to exist. What was this little bot trying to do?

"Icccccceeee-pick," Monstructor hissed, stalking forward in much the same manner that Logicor had just a few moments before. Only the gaze of this gestalt was very much focused on the mech who had garnered his attention. "There is no Icepick....only Monstructor!"

When the combiner came to a halt, he clearly towered over the much smaller mech.

"Have you come to die?"

Garrus-9 – Corridors

Umbra was afraid. Like no other time in recent memory, she was afraid. This…this thing. This Monstructor. It stalked toward her, its heavy footfalls sending minor quakes through the floor. She had to catch herself and balance as it – he? – approached. And his optics were riveted on her. Solely her. She felt as if she might just rust away with the sheer force of his gaze.

"Icccccceeee-pick. There is no Icepick....only Monstructor!"

That shot doubt and terror into her spark and down her spinal strut. What if…what If she couldn’t do this? What if this meant…Umbra shook her head, balling her hands into fists. No. Right now she had to believe she could do this. Had to believe she could…do something.

It stopped and loomed over her like a guillotine’s blade. Umbra looked up at him. Her tiny optics met his own filled with determination.

"Have you come to die?"

“No,” came her resolute answer, “I came to help my friend. To repay at least part of the debt I owe him!” Umbra held her ground, prepared enough – she hoped – for what might come. “I know Icepick is there! He’s part of you! Hey, Icepick! It’s me! Umbra! Don’t you remember me?”

Mines:

"If Brainstorm has a method of removing the claws down here than that's great, but if not we need to be prepared . I recommend we begin to prepare for said scenario."

Highbrow perked slightly when he heard Nightbeat; who had just shown up late to the occasion; said what he did. "WELL! I am not about to trust Brainstorm with our precious lives without the proper tools to avoid inevitable internal combustion!" said Highbrow.

The smarty-aft picked up his crude climbing tool; a pickaxe; and began to climb after Pointblank. "This is such a mindlessly silly way to scale a wall," huffed Highbrow, "I wish I had snatched that guard's climbing grappel when I had the chance."

Garrus-9 – Corridors

“No, I came to help my friend. To repay at least part of the debt I owe him! I know Icepick is there! He’s part of you! Hey, Icepick! It’s me! Umbra! Don’t you remember me?”

Monstructor's gaze remained transfixed on the diminutive mechanoid. The creature was proving to be more entertained than he had imagined possible by this one. Perhaps he would keep it as a new plaything.

"Ohhhhh....he remembers you. All too well," Monstructor growled, his stare breaking as he looked up at the ceiling of the prison, momentarily lost in thought. "I hear him. He's quieter now. They all are. I am what they should have always been. I am fear....given LIFE!"

The gestalt looked down once more.

"It would torture him mightily if I were to destroy you, little bot. Endlessly....relentlessly," Monstructor snarled, before reaching down and snatching the femme in one hand and lifting her up. "And so I think I must oblige."

Monstructor's grip began to slowly tighten, before a spark of--something--glinted in his optics.

"Gruhhhhghhhh..."

The gestalt's grip then began to loosen, dropping the mech as he reached up to hold his head.

"Kill....all-BAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" the monster bellowed, before suddenly shattering into his six component pieces and crashing to the floor.

Garrus-9 – Corridors:

Slugslinger was shaking. The sight of this... monster. It shook him to the core. And the growl of his voice. He readied his weapon, yet he felt he wouldn't be able to fire it. He was frozen. Fixated. Eyes widening.

"It would torture him mightily if I were to destroy you, little bot. Endlessly....relentlessly. And so I think I must oblige.

The thing it... grabbed her. As if she was only a doll. Slugslinger shook. He was torn between running away, and running at it to try and help. The thing was...

"Kill....all-BAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"

...

They... they shattered.

They were once again six. Not one.

"W- Wha- What just... HAPPENED?"

Slugslinger was not comforted. He didn't know how this technology worked. For all he knew, this could be some sort of special attack. He was no longer crippled with only fear, but also confusion.

"EH, EH..." Slugslinger pointed his gun in the direction of all of them, hands shaking, knees trembling, "W- WHAT ARE YOU! Yo- You all are HIM, but not HIM!"

Garrus-9-–Corridors:


In the midst of the pile of six mechs, Icepick carefully moved a stray limb or two off his body while pushing himself to his feet.

"We-we did it, guys. We can beat him. Together," Icepick sighed, both mentally and physically drained after the ordeal--but particularly the former. He then looked to Umbra.

"I-I couldn't let him. I didn't think I would have a choice. I-I...thought I was going to have to watch him.....b-but, we did it."

Garrus-9 – Corridors

”Bad news. That’s what.” Apeface replied back to the Seacons with seriousness that defied his normal carefree and fun-loving behavior around other Decepticons.

”Jhiaxus turned on us.” The Horrorcon brute explained, locking his optics with the shorter Overbite whom he valued over Skalor when it came to the pecking order of the Seacons. To emphasize his words, he played the holographic recording sent him by Kickback. ”Snaptrap is out. Cyclonus has fallen. Even Scorponok himself.”

”I have been gathering up a response unit to deal with the issue but something is jamming out communications within the prison. As you can see, it isn’t much so far. Aside these gentlebots, I have been able to contact only few of our people through the comm-system,” he explained, continuing, ”Jhiaxus is gone and we have no way to follow until we figure out how to disable that device he stabbed the Commander with.”

”And for that we need more processing power than there’s present in my current company my dear scaly friends.” Apeface added, finally cracking out a joke and even taking a jab at Lobe as well due to his inability to offer anykind of solution to the problem so far on his own.

”Fear not though, there’s still use for your skills,” Apeface joked, and nodded towards Skalor, ”Maybe for even his stink.”

”That traitorous cyberswine left those two giants of his behind. And I’ll wager they are prowling between our position and the amphitheater.” Apeface said with much more authoritarian tone, spitting a glob of dirty lubricant to the floor, ”We are going to take them out, save Commandor Scorponok and make Jhiaxus pay. Pretty much in that order.”

Apeface then lifted his digit before his mouthplate to gesture the others to fall silent. Nodding towards the corridor crossroads further down the corridor he gave couple more commands through simple military sign language. Prepare yourselves. Someone is coming.

Garrus-9 – Corridors

There it was. The horrifying beast of titanic proportions Umbra and Stormwrecker had been talking about. Unsettling, terrifying and yet magnificent. Its mere presence made Skyhammer feel weak, as if the monster was draining directly from him. To his surprise it was a familiar feeling. One he could remember from a way back in time – all back into Zeta Prime’s reign of terror. He had barely survived the Omega Destructors and the insidious weapon they and Zeta had wielded – the vamparc ribbon. This monster, it had to be utilizing the same technology. Whether it was doing it knowingly or not, he did not know.

And Umbra? The damned fool was trying to parley with it? Had she lost her mind? This was insane. The monster wanted to slaughter them all. He could sense it from its body language. And when it spoke? All that vindictive hate was evident in its words.

”Umbra! No!”

Before Skyhammer could spur himself into action, Umbra was already in Monstructor’s grasp. Frag. There went his cover. Having opened his big mouth had revealed that he cared more than he had let Umbra and the cons with her believe so far. This was not going to end well. But this was hardly a moment to ponder on that. They had to survive Monstructor first. And that didn’t look too likely. Heck, he had even fired the gun given to him at the monster when it grabbed the femme but he could have as well been shooting peas at it. It made no difference.

So this was it? Suddenly all the damage Snapdragon had caused to him meant very little. This monster, they were just gnats to it. Gnats to be killed for its sick pleasure on a whim. At least Decepticons fought for something. Fraggit all.

Gathering his courage, Skyhammer prepared to charge to monster. Suicidal yeah but he wasn’t going to run now either.

Only that he never had to. The monster dropped Umbra, grabbed its head and fall to its individual pieces. Skyhammer dashed at Umbra’s side to check on her. She was his only ally here anyway. Every other option sounded more or less lethal to him. Lethal in a way that would accomplish nothing. Staying at her side might. At least he hoped so.

”Umbra? Are you alright? Gotta admit. I think you succeeded.”

Garrus-9--Primary Mine Shaft

This will be quite the war story to tell if we survive, Pointblank thought ruefully as he slammed his pick into what was the final portion of rock that lead back into the prison proper. Heaving himself up over the ledge, he looked around to see if there were any imminent threads. Fortunately the Decepticons didn't seem to think that escaping miners would be their top priority right now. By all accounts, they had much bigger problems on their plate and that was just fine by him.

Getting to his feet, he looked over edge back down into the mine shaft itself where other Autobots were steadily making their own ascensions.

"We're clear up here!" he called down. "But get a move on. I'm sure there's wanderers."

Garrus-9-Primary Mine Shaft

Of all the things Nightbeat thought he would find himself doing in his time, scaling a wall with a pickaxe was not one of them. He was concerned to say the least. In fact he was beginning to get rather paranoid, There has to be a Decepticon patrol somewhere around here. he thought At the top perhaps. I suppose it doesn't matter After all dying while trying to get out of this place is better than remaining here

We're clear up here!" he called down. "But get a move on. I'm sure there's wanderers."

Well that's that cleared up I suppose thought Nightbeat as he continued to climb up the shaft.

"So it's completely clear? Nothing there at all? That's... convenient. Not that I'm complaining of course! The faster we are out of here the better." called the detective.

Garrus – 9 - Corridors

"Ohhhhh....he remembers you. All too well," Monstructor growled, his stare breaking as he looked up at the ceiling of the prison, momentarily lost in thought. "I hear him. He's quieter now. They all are. I am what they should have always been. I am fear....given LIFE!"

Umbra gulped but held her ground. So he was in there. They all were! Hope flared anew in her. “Then-“ But she had hoped too soon. The gestalt scooped her up before she even had time to react. The next thing she knew, she was several meters off the floor looking straight into the optics of…this…monster. Umbra shook. She didn’t realize that she was doing it but the fear was threatening to snuff her spark.

Not only that, but this giant mech’s very aura sapped her strength away. Umbra felt herself slipping even before his grip began to tighten on her. “Ahh…!” Pain cut through the haze. Suddenly, however, she was free. Falling. She crashed to the floor in time to see Monstructor clutching his head. He screamed then shattered into pieces. No, not pieces. The Monstercons. Icepick and his friends.

Pushing herself up with an arm, Umbra flopped back onto the floor as pain shot up her arm. Seemed like she hadn’t gone entirely unscathed from her encounter with Icepick’s inner demon. Forcing herself up, she looked over to Icepick, easily picking him out of the jumble of Monstercons. She smiled at him.

“Yes, you did. Maybe don’t scare me like that next time, huh, Icepick?” Umbra teased lightly, more than a little exhausted.

”Umbra? Are you alright? Gotta admit. I think you succeeded.”

“Skyhammer?” Umbra asked, looking to see the Autobot at her side. Huh. She hadn’t really expected that. He had been so resistant to pretty much everything that she’d said or done thus far, so she had half-expected him to just hang back and watch them all die. “Yeah, I…well, they did it really.”

Shuffling over to Icepick, Umbra extended him a hand or a shoulder to lean on. Whatever he needed really. Not that she was in the best shape herself, but still.


Slog could barely make sense of what was happening. He felt something move. Not him. He was too mentally and physically shattered to even begin an attempt at locomotion. He heard a voice though. A familiar one. Icepick. They’d done it? What? That…But. Slog forced his optics to focus and started to untangle himself from some of the others.

They had done it. Monstructor had been. They had. Slog shook his head, rising to an unsteady standing position as he noted one of the others – not the Monstercons but the ones that had come to confront Monstructor – shouting with his gun pointed at them. He held up his hands in surrender.

“It is complicated,” Slog called out to Slugslinger with as much volume as his voice could muster, “But just know that…you’ve nothing to fear from us.”

Garrus-9 – Corridors

The Seacons’ expressions grew hard as the news that Jhiaxus had turned on them, and worse still, that Snaptrap and the rest of High Command had fallen. Overbite rubbed his chin while Skalor face-palmed and held his head, spinning about in a circle. Apeface was being unusually serious, which Overbite thought odd. That was, until the simian cracked one at the end of his spiel. Overbite just shook his head while Skalor scowled at the crack at his stink.

However, Apeface grew silent signaling for the others to do so as well. Skalor was about to open his mouth when Overbite nudged him – hard – and shook his head. Skalor rolled his optics and readied his weapon. The Seacons fell into a very particular position, bespeaking their many years of camaraderie and training.

Synapse hung back unsure of how he could provide support. Or anything. He huddled behind Apeface and the Seacons, not exactly using them as shields but sort of using them as shields.

Garrus-9 – Near Primary Mineshaft

>>”Hello? HELLO?! ANYONE?!”<<

Sparkstalker shook his head and snorted, crossing his arms as he meandered through the maze of a facility that was Garrus-9. How the Autobots did anything when their hallways were this labyrinthine was beyond him. He glanced back at his companion for the umpteenth time. Hardshell. A hulking brute of an Insecticon. The Insecticons always had a way of setting him on edge.

“Well,” he huffed, “No word from anyone. Most peculiar. I suppose setting off to see what was going on in person was the right choice…Are we almost to the amphitheater?”

Sparkstalker’s alternate mode did not offer much in the way of speed. Nor was he in any real hurry. Just vaguely worried. Well, very worried. Maybe he was in a hurry. Sparkstalker paused as he heard voices up ahead. “Oh good, perhaps they’ll know what all the fuss is about.”

Garrus-9 – Corridors:

Optics emitting a disturbing red glow, Triggerhappy slowly made his way towards the group in the hall. Squinting his optics, his grin became wider and wider. Almost unnaturally so.

"My brethren, it happens as it always was foretold. As the one of flame has written, 'One of the past shall rise, and the unwilling will become strengthened.'"

Triggerhappy then turned the corner, and found the group looking at him.

"Have no fear, brothers, I come in peace." Unlike Triggerhappy's normal self, he then dropped his weapons to the ground, and raised his hands to the air.

Garrus-9 – Corridors:

“It is complicated, but just know that…you’ve nothing to fear from us.”

Slugslinger lowered his gun slowly. The shaking started to subside.

"S- so, you weren't controlling that thing?" he asked.

Garrus-9-–Near Primary Mineshaft

"So it's completely clear? Nothing there at all? That's... convenient. Not that I'm complaining of course! The faster we are out of here the better."

"Clear as I can see," Pointblank called back.

The Autobot Enforcer reached out a hand to assist Nightbeat the rest of the way once he had approached the ledge, he could choose to grab on or climb the rest of the way himself. But before he could kneel down, he heard something. Footsteps. Footsteps close by. Fraggit.

“....they’ll know what all the fuss is about,” came the voice from a distance that was growing shorter by the second.

Pointblank then looked down over the edge and did a distinct "slicing" motion across his neck structure, before turning around to face the approaching--inevitably Decepticon--mechanoids.

"Uh...hello."

Garrus-9-–Corridors

It had all happened so fast. Stormwrecker was still holding his weapon up when the behemoth gestalt came shattering apart like glass. It had been an act of Primus himself that kept him from firing and endangering Umbra any further than she already was. But the other option wasn't much better. Stand there and watch her be crushed in the monster's grip. Then what? Suicide run the thing or flee in cowardice? Neither was the way he wanted to go out. But then everything changed, and Stormwrecker had no idea how.

”Umbra? Are you alright? Gotta admit. I think you succeeded.”

"Uh, wow...yeah," Stormwrecker agreed.

“Skyhammer? Yeah, I…well, they did it really,” Umbra said, partially answering Stormwrecker's internal question.

"How'd you do that?" he asked, looking from Umbra to the reawakening Monstercons.
___

Unsurprisingly, Icepick found himself regaining his full bearings in a world that was still in conflict. So much of what he had been through felt like a dream, or rather a nightmare, at the hands of Monstructor. No...at the hands of Jhiaxus. He couldn't allow himself to forget who was ultimately responsible for their state. But yet, the nightmare had not fully come to pass. Umbra stood alive and well, despite the fact that in his mind the past few astroseconds could have taken any number of different, horrific turns.

Icepick accepted the hand of assistance from Umbra as another approaching mech threatened to destroy the already fragile moment of peace.

"S- so, you weren't controlling that thing?"

"No....quite the opposite. It controls us. It always has. Normally we're gone. Our conscious selves...gone. But in that moment, I was there. I think we all were. And when I resisted, the others joined me. And, well...."

Icepick looked at the ground.

"When I was in the amphitheater, I saw what Jhiaxus wants, what he's doing. We all did. 'All are one'. His millions of vorns in isolation have driven him insane. We have to stop him!"

Garrus-9 – Corridors

Harmony in death.

Discord in life.

The creature stands before him, arms outstretched, pleading for her functioning to cease. Good. The creature possesses enough sense to realise that, in his presence, she has become expendable: a plaything to be entertained by and disposed of at his leisure. He will relish annihilating the creature with his taloned actuators. The crumpling of metal and the screams partnering the manner in which she’ll die spur him to pluck her from the floor.

The creature stands before him—minuscule and weak but defiant—and shouts the name of one of his team-mates. Icepick. There is an urgent quality mingling with her voice, razor-sharp as a bladed weapon. Each word he hears slices deeply into his subconscious. Slowly but surely, he begins to recognise this creature. Has seen her around, in the place he desperately wishes to escape from. Her name, he remembers, is Umbra.

He looks at the creature—at his new toy—his cerebral processor feverishly formulating ideas like thunderheads building in the distance. The originality visiting him is scintillating, but amid the ideas thrashing for his attention, the answer comes to him. He has decided. He will go through with crushing her in his grasp. To feel her dying as he squeezes her… The mere thought of it excites him.

He looks at Umbra, staring at her face-plate. He thinks he should be doing something but doesn’t know what. All he knows is that this something doesn’t include killing her. His gazes remains unbroken and he continues to stare.

Confusion suddenly floods him, washing away his clarity. Thoughts of the creature’s demise no longer excite him. For some mystifying reason, there’s no satisfaction to be gained from killing her.

Confusion suddenly floods him, washing away his clarity. He wonders if Umbra was aware of the immense danger she placed herself in. Little femme against a massive, raging psychopath. Risk versus reward. Succeed and live. Fail and die.

He doesn’t understand. How could he change his mind so quickly?

He does understand. How could he hurt somebody who only wanted to help him?

The creature must die.

Umbra must be spared.

His grip tightens.

His grip loosens.

He—

Garrus-9 – Corridors

—Was pushing himself up off the ground, pausing when the disorientation (just a lovely after-effect from having united into Monstructor) nearly threatened to send him back down again. Planted on his actuators and knee-joints, with his cranial unit drooped between his shoulder-plates, Wildfly waited for that horrible feeling to abate. He looked as if he was about to purge his tanks.

Ten, twenty, thirty astroseconds. Forty, fifty, sixty. That took forever.

He rose carefully, as if rising fast would cause an injury. Wildfly didn’t need any of them. He had enough to stress about as it was.

A second merging already. In the space of a single day. Stuff him inside of Megatron’s fusion cannon and blast him half way across the galaxy! How he wasn’t a basket case was as impressive as it got. Maybe not that impressive, but still pretty admirable in its own right, considering the extreme psychological trauma Monstructor left him with after disassembling from being part of that freak.

It was a secret he’d told none of his team-mates, but there were signs—if someone were to observe him closely enough—to suggest that he struggled post merging. Thankfully nobody did. Wildfly preferred it that way.

"When I was in the amphitheatre, I saw what Jhiaxus wants, what he's doing. We all did. 'All are one'. His millions of vorns in isolation have driven him insane. We have to stop him!"

That he didn’t prefer, but as Icepick said, Wildfly had seen it, too. They had to try, at least. Daddy Jhi’ had to be stopped. His boys might as well have the first crack at the old kook.

“What he said,” Wildfly added, nodding at Icepick. “I think it’s time to beat some sense into the senseless.”

Garrus-9-–Near Primary Mineshaft

"Uh...hello."

Click. Click. ”Autobot scum.”

Dozens of guns were immediately aimed at Pointblank on sight as the infamous Insecticon marauder Ransack and several of his diaclones pointed their guns at the Autobot who had managed to make an apperance at wrong place at wrong time.

”Easy there Ransack,” another, more menacing voice spoke out.

Second Insecticon, much larger than Ransack pushed past his brethren with couple of diaclones of his own – making Ransack and his clones to step quickly out of the way rather than challenge this other Decepticon in any manner. Hardshell – Scorponok’s favorite among the Insecticon horde and very likely most terrifying and accomplished warrior within the Swarm.

”What do we have over here? A lost Autobot prisoner.” Hardshell smirked, stretching out his talons. ”This is awfully long way away from the mines isn’t it... Pointblank?”

Mines:

Frag frag frag...

Highbrow was right below Nightbeat on the wall, and Nightbeat was just out of sight of the Insecticons who were just pointing their weapons at Pointblank.

"What do we have over here? A lost Autobot prisoner. This is awfully long way away from the mines isn’t it... Pointblank?”

Frag, fraggit, think...

Highbrow did silent gestures down to the fellow 'Bots below him. Go back down. They're coming.