Seibertron.com Energon Pub Forums

Garrus-9--Command Center

Bang. Bang. Bang

Damn that Treadshot. He had no place taking his kills. Snapdragon he could deal with, as he had for so many vorns that it would have made most mechs wonder why exactly the two could stand the sight of each other. From the point of view of any bystander it was no small miracle that the two Horrorcons hadn't ripped each other faces off with the amount of slag they threw at each other. Then again, maybe they had - they were wearing masks after all. Apeface knew. Not that he'd tell. Not the truth anyway. But Treadshot, damn him taking his kills. The marksman had no class, no style. He was like a surgeon, a precision instrument. Certainly not a Horrorcon.

"Bang." A voiced statement working in perfect synergy with Apeface's trigger finger, followed by a sonic blast that liberated the body of a wounded Autobot from its annoyedly screaming and twitching head.

"Bang." Another wounded Autobot removed from this plane of existence. And yet another moment of pure awesomeness that was Apeface. Yeah, take that Treadshot you fraggin' slagface. This was how it was done. Too bad there was little challenge in popping heads off wounded Autobots. Then again, Apeface couldn't really fault the bots whom had been manning the Command Center of Garrus-9 either. Having been taken completely by surprise, they really had had no other option than be gunned down by the marauding Decepticon horde. Well, at least these Autobots hadn't had. Big Max could only blame himself for not being present to protect his less professional comrades.

Apeface leveled his sonic boomer at yet another Autobot lying around with its head intact. "Bang." Click. "No bang?"

Such a horrendous surprise! His gun jammed? Here in all of possible places for it to happen? After all those cycles of caring maintenance?

"Oh no you didn't. Tsk tsk. Bad gun. Bad."

The following act was truly terrible to behold. Apeface grabbed hold of the barrel of his rifle and smashed its butt against the face of the wounded Autobot lying in front of him. Once. Twice. Again. And again until he was pummeling the mangled corpse of the Autobot in a primal fury, transforming back and forth between his robot and primate forms, his rifle being reduced into club that barely resembled its original form.

Smash. Smash. Smash.

Garrus-9--Command Center

Snapdragon moved through the Command Center in dragon mode in a deliberate and terrifying manner. He had purposely taken some shots from weaponry he knew would not harm him in order to create terror in others. The relative slowness of his movements only enhanced that feeling. It was a technique he had learned from those helpful instructional movies the Earthlings known as "Japanese" had filmed.

As he tore off the upper torso of an Autobot with his powerful jaws he could see what his partner was up to. As he began tearing into an Autobot Snapdragon spit out the upper half of the Autobot and transformed into Robot move. He moved over to Apeface and punched him in the shoulder.

"Hey! Whats wrong with you!?" He said sternly. "You know better than this! What you are doing is wrong!"

He grabbed Apeface's gun.

"We ALWAYS check our weapons to make sure they don't jam!"

Garrus 9-Southern Wing--Block B

Vroom shook his head at what Stormwrecker said.

"Not a bomb. Bombs send their energy outwards while we got hit with a force that came inwards."

He looks towards the direction that Stormwrecker was looking at.

"Slag, that's chaos. Probably get worse when the fighting out there makes its way in here."

He crossed his arms and took a moment to consider the sight.

"So what are you planning on doing about that."

The Semper Tyrannis–Hangar

Soul Siren sighed in relief and smiled.

"Understood. Good hunting." She replied simply knowing that Cyclonus would likely be on his feet and moving on to his next target if he had not established himself as incapacitated.

She turned towards the huge form of Scorponok beside her.

"Sir, it seems that Cyclonus has survived the crash."

Garrus-9 – Southern Wing – Cell Block M

The darkness flickered in and out of existence, failing in its attempts to cling to the walls and the couple of items of furniture decorating Wildfly's cell. United against a common foe, the lumen globes battled their enemy, banishing shadows and severe tides of blackness that threatened to consume everything. As a consequence of their struggle, the interior of the cell seemed to disappear then reappear, disappear then reappear.

Wildfly ignored the erratic illumination the lumen globes offered. He had stood after that quaking had caused him to fall off his cot—in a spectacularly moronic fashion, too—but he had yet to move. Astonishment locked him in place.

The Decepticons were here. He knew that. The guards and prisoners had vocalised as much, solidifying the soft and flexible rumour into a fact, compact and unyielding.

But seriously: the Decepticons were here. For real. They had to be responsible for the whole quake 'n' shake thing. Had to be.

Over the course of Wildfly's incarceration, nothing like this had ever happened. Any fights or riots that erupted either spontaneously or due to meticulous planning were quickly suppressed, with punishment the reward for the instigators and accelerators. Any prisoners who contemplated escape and acted on it made it as far as The Rig. And the only tremors Wildfly experienced were those belonging to Maximus's sonorous gait when he paid Cell Block M a visit on occasion.

All aboard the Ho-Hum Express! All aboard, please! Departing for Dullsville in two kliks.

Yes, Garrus-9 was that boring.

But the current situation? The antithesis of monotony. A refreshing change, certainly, and one Wildfly gave a thumb joint up to, indicating his official sign of approval.

Decepticons here. A massive grin stretched across his face-plate.

As if on cue, the screams of a guard sliced through the cacophony that had settled in Block M quite nicely. Wildfly rushed to the door. Given their volume, the screams sounded as though they were very near.

And near they were, indeed, like right-in front-of-his-cell near. Looking through the viewing panel, Wildfly spied a ferocious scene. A group of Transformers were clustered around a figure lying on the ground, smashing the absolute slag out of the fellow. The fellow's arms and legs thrashed madly in a form of defence, but to no avail.

Wildfly stared at the guard, mesmerised. Then he noticed it. Noticed them.

Purple insignias.

Purple insignias worn by Decepticons he did not recognise. Purple insignias worn by Decepticons who were assaulting the penitentiary.

“Well, paint me gold and call me the Great Ick-Yak...”

Only prisoners were permitted the luxury of styling the very fashionable restraining devices. These Decepticons, after Wildfly had conducted a thorough examination on their torso-plates, were not sporting any of the very fashionable restraining devices.

The guard ceased his flailing. His screaming, too. In fact, he stopped doing everything. When the group of Decepticons stepped away from him, as if to admire their efforts, it was easy to understand why silence and inactivity had become dominant.

Wildfly seized this opportunity to garner their attention. “Hey! Hey!” He pounded the cell door with his fists. “Hey! Let me out! Get me out of this fraggin' box!”

The Decepticons shared a laugh. Oblivious of Wildfly's calls for help, they left.

“No!” Wildfly struck the door again. “No! Come back! Come back, damn it!”

Gone. But no matter. More Decepticons were probably wandering about, so someone else would pass by eventually. He hoped.

“Hey! Hey! Anyone there? Anyone at all? Somebody let me out!”


(OOC: I don't know what y'all got in mind for your prisoners and/or invading 'Cons, but if anybody isn't too sure on what they're going to do next and would like a minor distraction, Wildfly would love to be set free. So if anybody wants to PM me and work something out or, alternatively, just go right ahead and bust the Fly out, I'm cool either way.)

Garrus-9--Command Center

The steady flow of Decepticon troopers through the portal into the Command Center of Garrus-9 ceased - the last dozen of so Deceptcon arrivals forming an honor guard both sides of the portal exit. Following their exit, the portal began to grow in size. The reason was obvious enough - something big was coming through. And in this case, there was little doubt in who was in question - Scorponok, the leader of the Decepticon 2nd Fleet.

Stepping out of the portal, a quick overview of the Command Center was satisfying enough. His troops, spearheaded by the Horrorcons had efficiently crushed all resistance here before it really had had a chance to regroup and organize. Remains of dead Autobots littered the floor and the seats they had never had a chance to stand up from. Unfortunate but necessary carnage. Fortress Maximus would never surrender before a show of force - if even after that. It was a shame really. How much the Cybertronians could accomplish if the likes of Maximus and he could work together instead of waging war against each other? That was the true tragedy of this war. And yet another reason to solidify Scorponok's determination of crushing the Autobots here and now. There simply was no other way to end the war.

Scorponok moved away from the portal opening and settled in front of a large viewscreen that was currently showing the battle zone outside the prison walls. The Insecticon attack had been a useful feint but it made no sense to lose more troops if it could be avoided. Fortunately enough, Cyclonus had survived his crash landing. It would take some time to regroup with him though.

Activating his comm-link, Scorponok sent out a message his team of technicians - led by Sparkstalker, had been waiting for. It was safe enough for them to enter the Garrus-9 Command. And waste no time they did not. A small unit of computer specialists and engineers rushed through the portal and immediately began assuming positions that had been manned by Autobots only kliks earlier. Behind the technicians the portal shrunk again to conserve power and the steady flow of vehicons began anew.

"Soul Siren, Sparkstalker, Wingspan. Take control of the facility. Shut down defenses and open the wards." Scorponok spoke out and moved to stand before Fortress Maximus' command seat, having finally decided to confirm Maximus' suspicions on who he was dealing with.

Tapping into the prison's communications network, Scorponok opened a facility wide emergency channel. Nanokliks later his face appeared in every information terminal still functioning inside Garrus-9.

>>"Fortress Maximus. Spare us from this charade and capitulate now when I am still inclined to entertain the possibility of letting the rest of your staff live."<<

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing – Cell Block G

Scowl stopped banging on the wall with the rock once he heard Icepick get the message. He smiled to himself, happy to have delivered that little bit of news. Sure, everyone would know it soon enough, but in the prison being the first to know something was a little bit of excitement to savor.

Things got more exciting as the noises he heard grew louder, loud enough for the rest of the prison to hear. The guards were getting antsy and nervous and the prisoners were getting bolder and louder. Scowl was practically giddy at hearing all the noise. There were laser blasts and explosions, feet stomping on the ground, prisoners yelling and banging on walls, cell bars and anything else they could find. He could almost feel the entire building reverberating with all of the sound and fury being produced.

The only thing that could make this better was if he could contribute to the cacophony himself. For perhaps the millionth time he cursed the inhibitor harness on his back that prevented him from using his built in sonic abilities. Of course, with the guards otherwise occupied he could resort to more primitive methods of noise making. Picking up the rock he once again began banging it on the wall, on the floor, on the bars of his cell, trying to find what would make the most noise. At the same time he attempted to yell, his muted voice coming out as little more then average conversation volume.

The Monstercon stumble on his feet as something hit the prison, something very large. He could hear walls crumbling, doors torn open, explosions touching off. He began cackling, in a sort of nirvana now. He could die happy now, finally surrounded by noise and chaos that he had missed for ever so long.

*

Garrus – 9 – Southern Wing – Cell Block G

Airachnid was started to become a bit bored with Flame. He was perhaps a bit too overconfident and stubborn to get riled up like she wanted to. There had to be some doubt or fear to be exploited before she could have real fun tormenting someone. She would just have to keep working to find the right angle of attack on the insane Autobot.

The hunter tilted her head as Flame mentioned something about the guards. She could hear something to, a lot of chatter from them, and this was not the usual friendly banter. She couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was definitely tense, concerned, and possibly even afraid. The sound of rapid footfalls echoed throughout the prison. She could almost feel the change in the atmosphere. Something very big was going on.

The femme was almost surprised when she heard the first explosion. She had thought that perhaps there was just a riot or a prisoner escape, but an explosion meant something much bigger. It was followed by more explosions, gunfire, and screams. Yes, something very big was happening. A jailbreak of some sort? Was there someone in here with that effort to break out?

Airachnid was knocked out of her chair as the entire prison shook from…something. It almost felt like an impact, or a massive explosion. This wasn’t a jailbreak after all, only a full scale assault would produce something like that. The Decepticons had finally come, and in full force. An assault this massive meant it would only end in the total defeat of either side. When this many resources were committed then you either won or you didn’t come back.

The Decepticon put a hand on her chair to help lift herself back to her feet. She looked over at Flame and gave him a wide grin. “I am sure an intellect of your stature knows what this all means. I can tell you now that the odds of your Autobot brethren ‘coming to their senses’ and releasing you have dropped dramatically. If the Decepticons win this battle I can guess that standing orders will be to kill all Autobots on site. Now my dear Flame, it might be a good idea to come up with an escape plan.” She let out a light laugh, eager to here what the mad scientist would to say for himself now.

Garrus-9--Cell Block A

That guard, Treadrock, had told him to sit tight as activity period was coming soon. Tyrannicus was not sure how the guard could have been proved more right. To say that activity period had come was the understatement of the millennium, but it was a period quite unlike any other that the small Decepticon had ever encountered during his sentence on this prison moon.

Though the world itself seemed like it was crashing down around him, truthfully it looked like it was only affecting cell blocks that were higher up or more secured or both. Within the relatively out of the way safety of A block, not much had changed. The lone guard of this block had cleared out as soon as there was any sort of commotion in any of the other areas. And very quickly it had become clear that whatever was happening was much larger than some discontented prisoner.

Tyrannicus had to admit that he was intrigued.

Gears had turned and permacrete security walls had slammed into place all over the prison blocks after the Code Alpha had been engaged, but everything in A block stayed more or less the same. But if the cell blocks hadn't been in riot mode earlier, whatever had happened to the rooftops had definitely triggered one. Tyrannicus could hear the craven screams and taunts of those who were now seemingly free to fight with the prison guards on a slightly more even keel. If anything, the situation was going to get more dangerous for a mech like him, now. One of the underlying Decepticon philosophies was survival of the fittest after all. Oh, it wasn't preached on the streets or used in recruiting tactics, but everyone knew that's how the movement was run, especially once you were on the inside of the war machine. And strongest? Tyrannicus had never been anywhere near that word, at least on a physical level.

So, even though he wasn't overly inclined to break any facility rules, the extraordinary circumstances seemed to call for a shift in strategy.

Bending the thin bars of his cell just enough, Tyrannicus found that he could in fact wheedle his way through them. Go figure. He'd always thought he could. Now he had proof.

"Where y'goin', runt?" one of the other A blockers said as Tyrannicus walked by. He was perched on his slab as if nothing exciting was going on.

"I am not inclined to stay here, Stiltstick. Little too dangerous for a mech like me. Once the Autobots get everything back under control, I'll walk back to my cell."

"Heh. Yeh right."

Tyrannicus' brow furrowed slightly as he walked off. He would go back. He would. Unless.....well, unless things were worse than he imagined.
___

The Steelhaven--Breach Point

Cyclonus appreciated Banzaitron's fervor. Cyclonus felt it too, even if he did not express it in the same manner. Though they had weathered a crash and now not only had to walk but had to climb in order to find out if the ship had crashed into an area that would be even remotely useful or if they had been left outside the prison with the rest of assaulting battlegroups.

>>"Indeed,"<< he transmitted simply, a smirk briefly flashing on his angular face at Soul Siren's transmission.

Through the puncture that Banzaitron had indicated, however, Cyclonus and the Secret Service commander were able claw their way through charred and mangled debris, shattered permacrete and other elements. Cyclonus could detect the sound of raised voices that were becoming closer and closer in proximity.

Shoving his way through the last remaining pieces of ruptured metal, Cyclonus found himself in what appeared to be some auxiliary hallway. At least he was inside. The rest would be elementary from here. Whatever voices he had heard, at least they were not in their immediate vicinity. That would buy both of the commanders a precious few moments to develop their own unique strategies on what step to take next.

"I'll leave you to your work," Cyclonus said, looking back to Banzaitron, knowing him to be a Decepticon that did not require orders on how to proceed in a situation like this. Banzaitron himself would discover where his unique skillset would be best utilized in aiding the Decepticons' takeover of this prison. Cyclonus would do the same.
___

Garrus 9-Southern Wing--Block B

Stormwrecker nodded quietly, still looking up at the chaos above as Vroom expanded upon the likelihood of whatever it was that had done this amount of damage.

"Huh. Nice," he said, vocalizer still largely agape in amazement at what all was going on. Vroom's question brought him out of his reverie.

"What am I gonna do?" Stormwrecker said, watching as some of the prisoners started to run free amongst the cell blocks while others were engaged in brutal melees with the guards. "Enjoy it, I guess."

"Hey you! Yeah, you slaggin' inmates right there on 'B'. Back in your cells!" a guard said, approaching not with a stun rod or some other non-lethal device but instead what appeared to be a fully-charged scatter blaster.
___

Garrus 9-Southern Wing–-Block G

When Icepick carefully stepped out of his cell, he quickly looked around to make sure that no other guards were closing in on him. They seemed to be suitably distracted by the pockets of chaos that were erupting everywhere else. That suited Icepick just fine as his thoughts turned immediately to his Monstercon brothers. From here, Scowl would be the closest one.

Wiping away the small trail of flourescent pink energon from his mouth, energon that was not his own, Icepick turned to look back at his own cell one last time. That particular guard would not be harassing any other prisoners.

"I really wish it didn't have to end that way...but...meh," Icepick said, shrugging before heading off in the direction of Scowl's cell which was not far off.

He hadn't been exactly sure what he would find when he came to Scowl's cell, but what he did find was certainly surprising. As chaos rang all around them, there he was seemingly in the throes of either agony or ecstasy. A casual onlooker probably would not be able to tell which, but Icepick knew. He smiled, taking a moment to relish the sight. How long had it been since any of them had experienced bliss on that level, for any length of time? Icepick was not inclined to rob his fellow Monstercon of that moment.

The energy field to Scowl's cell was flickering, just as it had been with Icepick's own. Only a moment or so more and it faded altogether and Icepick stepped inside. Scowl hadn't noticed him yet, but he soon would.

"Hey there," Icepick said, smiling genuinely and waving at the other Monstercon, still admittedly somewhat enthralled by his display of mirth. "We're free."

Garrus-9--Auxiliary Corridors

Fortress Maximus knew that the other Autobots, Whirl in particular, would not be far behind him. Because they all knew that Max would not be satisfied organizing their resistance from the sidelines or any other point of safety. His function, now, was to be in the thick of any chaotic situation and restore order. He had no intention of disappointing.

"Max!" Treadrock called out, running towards the warden and his group from an adjoining corridor. "They're flooding the command center! A-And your ship....i-it hit the..."

"Southern wing. I saw. Is the Code Alpha still working?"

"I...uh," Treadrock stuttered, walking over to a nearby wall access panel and bringing up the information. "They're hacking our systems! The Code's still in effect, but I don't know for how long. We've got to get them out of the command center."

Max took a few moments to examine the electronic blueprint on the screen.

"The command center is exposed from auxiliary corridors here, here and here," Max said, indicating different pathways one could take to arrive at the same primary hub. "Get teams to those positions. We surround 'em. Shut down their little breach if we can, fall back if we can't. We still have this whole facility and we know it a lot better than they do."

"Yeah, but--"

>>"Fortress Maximus. Spare us from this charade and capitulate now when I am still inclined to entertain the possibility of letting the rest of your staff live."<<

Maximus paused, listening as the eerie voice of Scorponok echoed throughout the facility. His facility. The final confirmation he needed of who was behind this. His circuits seethed with a quiet rage.

"You ain't gonna surrender to him, are ya, warden sir?"

"No," Max said. "I know Scorponok. If he was truly confidant that he was going to win this, he wouldn't even offer the illusion of surrender. And that's all it is. Let's move. Make those 'Cons regret stepping foot in our doors."

And with that, Max was off, descending down the final set of oversized stairs towards the command center. He could hear the sounds of raised voices and weapons fire increase with every step he took. All of his weapons were primed and ready.

>>"Coming up on the northeast annex, warden,"<< one guard commed in.

>>"Approaching due west, Max."<<

Maximus didn't even have to hesitate. Instant visuals registered in his mind.

We're going to have to build a new command center, Maximus thought as he stepped out into the main eastern corridor approaching the command center, and the breach where Scorponok and his lackeys were somehow leaking their way into Garrus-9 like a massive infection.

>>"Keep clear. Move in when the fires die down,"<< Maximus warned ominously.

"That's Fortress Maximus!" a Sweep called out, looking back to the other Decepticons that were closer to the command hub.

"Sure is," Max said to himself as incendiary missiles launched from shoulder ports, his leg mortars erupted in fiery destruction, pulse cannons and automatic rifle barrels began to shred anything that might deign to make a hostile move in the vicinity of the command center.

>>"Move in!"<< Max ordered. >>"Hit 'em from all sides!"<<

Garrus-9--Command Center

Sinnertwin had leapt into the command center as soon as the portal had been opened. The reality of the antagonize between he and Iguanus had not remotely dissipated but Sinnertwin had been offered additional life to terrorize now and he had no intention of letting it go to waste.

One of the command center staff had barely been able to rise from his console before Sinnertwin had knocked him to the floor and proceeded to maul him. It would be only the first of many maulings this day.

"That's Fortress Maximus!" came a voice from somewhere else, not all that far away.

One of Sinnertwin's oil-stained heads looked up and around. Through one of the windows, Sinnertwin barely caught the sight of a pair of Sweeps going down in a hail of gunfire before his own world turned from one of metal and fluid to one of fire as everything seemed to explode around him.
___

Garrus-9--Concourse

"To the command center sir?" one of the tenders asked as he and Goldrush moved quickly through one of the massive open areas that branched off to other key divisions of the prison system. Goldrush stopped and looked at him incredulously for a moment.

"Are you glitched? That's....that's where whoever's attacking this place is going to go. No no no. Mines. We'll go to the mines. Get down below the surface."

The tender offered no argument and the two mechs quickly resumed their previous gait. The concourse area of the prison was normally buzzing with both military and civilian activity. The crossroads of where prison guard staff, prison service staff and fleet crewmechs met and interacted while going from one wing of the prison to another. It was all but evacuated now, save for a stray mech here and there roaming idly. Why they were doing that when the world seemed to be coming to an end all around them, Goldrush had no idea.

The golden mech was somewhat surprised. Normally even under a drill scenario there would be guards directing the denizens of this place where to go. But wherever they were now, they were not here. That only solidified the seriousness of the situation in Goldrush's mind.

Arriving at the huge freight elevator used to transfer workers and equipment between the prison proper and the mines below, Goldrush pushed the descent button.

Nothing.

Goldrush sighed, looking at the small electronic message flashing on the display terminal.

::::::CODE ALPHA--STANDARD LOCKDOWN PROCEDURES IN EFFECT::::::

"Slagfraggit," Goldrush cursed, slamming a hand against the elevator door. There was a tremor in the floor again. Or an explosion somewhere. Maybe both.

If he couldn't go down, then he needed to keep moving. This area was way too exposed.

"Let's go! This way," Goldrush said, picking up his pace as he headed east. Too much noise was coming from the south. Much too much for his liking.

Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

"All weapons on starboard side focus on that Autobot destroyer!" Finback roared out a command to the personnel responsible of the Semper Tyrannis' weapon control while observing another Autobot frigate going up in flames as the sole symbol ship of the fleet, the Shatterer practically ploughed through the much smaller enemy vessel. Which apparently had tried to perform a suicide run against the Worldsweeper.

The space battle was already practically won. Autobots were getting desperate enough to ram their ships against the more powerful Decepticon battlecruisers in hopes of at least making some damage against the enemy which taken them by surprise. The destroyer which the acting captain of Scorponok's flagship had selected as a target for Reflector was the most powerful enemy vessel still in the fight. And even it was not going to stand a chance against the might of the Semper Tyrannis. Finback though, was not going to take the chance of having to collide with the enemy destroyer, far larger than the frigate the Shatterer had just ravaged. Such impact would force extensive repairs even on a battleship.

This destroyer though, it was not going to get close enough to do anything like that. Not with Tyrannis' fusion cannons on the way. And once they'd get through it, the whole fleet was going to be able to focus on ground targets for the rest of the remaining Autobot ships would be easy pickings.

Of course, there was a major problem with the ground targets. The starship weapons were simply too powerful to be pointed at Garrus-9 with their own ground forces in the immediate vicinity of the penitentiary. They had to get the Sweeps and the Seekers to bombard the enemy ground to air positions. Particularly that one remaining anti-starship turret that kept doing massive amounts of damage against the invading Decepticon fleet. They hadn't lost more than one ship to it so far but several others had been damaged enough to demand weeks worth of repairs.

>>"Scourge do you copy? This is Finback. I need your Sweeps on that ground to air turret before we lose more ships to it."<<

Garrus-9 – Breach Point

Unbelievable. Just when Nautilator fancied he was going to be the next Seacon in, Tentakil came from nowhere and zoomed past him, saying something to Nautilator as he raced by that he didn't quite hear but probably didn't want to hear. When you had been insulted a million times for being incompetent or for being a dummy or for being the galaxy's biggest incompetent dummy, some things were best left unheard.

“Yeah, frag you, too, Tentakil,” Nautilator said, even though he had no idea what his team-mate might have uttered.

Anyway, he had more crucial matters to stress about. Like reaching the breach point. And surviving long enough to reach that breach point. Which was currently a touch difficult, considering his bulky form carried him forward to that damn breach point awkwardly as if he were about to fall over at any moment.

Volleys of laser fire and explosions went about their business all around him, but Nautilator could only focus on a single thought. With the exception of Skalor—the Invisible One, he ought to be called now—everyone else was already inside busy blasting 'Bots to smithereens, yet here Nautilator was, still trying like crazy to get inside. By the time he slipped in, the fighting would be done, the Autobots defeated.

Nautilator groaned. He really did suck.

Then he finally ran through the hole Snaptrap had made. That damn breach point. The thing that took him forever to reach, while all the other Decepticons were already inside.

When he stumbled upon his first Autobot, he would kill him good. By Primus, would he kill him good. Somebody had to pay for Nautilator's shortcomings, and the Autobots seemed like the perfect choice.

Garrus 9 - Southern Wing - Block B


Vroom chuckled. "Sheesh, all of this happening and still the first thing you want to do is jump into a fight. You know this is just the kind of thing that makes no one likes the Decepticons."

He heard the voice of the guard coming towards them and turned to see the guard coming towards to them.

"We are the only two prisoners in this entire block who are standing around and not fighting and we are the ones you are running at with a gun?" He shook his head in disappointment As a saboteur this was not the first time he had been in this situation
something the guard was clearly not aware off. As the guard fought his own momentum as he stopped near them Vroom quickly grabbed the gun, pushed it into the throat of the guard then kicked him hard to the head as he went to grab his throat. As he began to crumble to the floor Vroom pushed him into his old cell.

"You get into the cell." He said to the guard then turned back to Stormwrecker. "Primus, I hate bullys."

The guard would probably not see it this way but Vroom acted to do him a favor. A guard rushing blindly into a room like this with a weapon was only going to cause problems. By knocking him out, he might be able to save him from getting killed by a angry Decepticon prisoner.

Although, it did feel good to hit someone.

Garrus-9 - Command Center

How Cutthroat loved these moments. There were always distractions and interruptions to his desires but not now. The chaos of combat protected him from such things and he could fully engage in what he wished as what remained of the Autobot before him bored testament to. Cutthroat had first torn it to bits with his beak, talons, and claws before incinerating it into ashes with his potent flamethrower. Finally he kicked the ashes into the air. There was simply no way the Autobot could be death enough for his liking.

Garrus-9 - Command Center

Soul Siren nodded to Scorponok.

"As you command sir."

She moved to one of the few intact computer terminals in the command center. She had to shake her head at the carnage around her. She did not feel moved by the plight of the Autobots, they had earned their fate by daring to challenge the rightful place of the Decepticons, but such a level of destruction made her work harder.

She looked around and saw one of the few deceased Autobots who had their cranial unit still intact. She moved to him and accessed his data banks. Without the spark to provide fuel, it would soon be deleted but the Autobot had perished recently enough that the data was not compromised. After a few moment she had acquired the access information she would need.

She went back to the Station and logged into the system. She worked to first cut the access of the other stations on the base. Before she would begin to do as Scorponok wished she would see to it that none could undo her work.

Garrus-9 – Command Centre

Savages, the lot of them. Well, not so much Treadshot and Soul Siren, as they seemed to possess an inkling of class and finesse, but those other things. The Terrorcons. The Horrorcons.

Disgraces, they were. Affronts to those—like Iguanus—who strove towards attaining perfection in both appearance and martial ability.

Unsheathing his blade from the dead Autobot's torso, Iguanus's glare found Sinnertwin, a prime example of what he abhorred in a Decepticon. A simple glance at the Terrorcon revealed all the telling signs; not that he needed to offend his optics by looking at the beast to confirm Sinnertwin's barbarism, sloppiness and uncultured nature. The beast's reputation spoke for itself.

The fighting in the command centre would have been more enjoyable if Iguanus hadn't been surrounded by such brutes. They cramped his style. They put him off. They ruined what was supposed to be a pleasurable experience for him.

Unfortunately, there was little he could do, save for trying to maintain his focus and getting on with the slaughtering. It proved difficult, however, and the temptation to remind these cretins that they were ugly and useless pestered Iguanus like a determined cyber-gnat hovering around his cranial unit.

Unless he wanted to fight the Terrorcons and Horrorcons along with the Autobots, keeping silent was probably a decent idea. Although a great warrior, Iguanus could not take them on all at once. Quantity had to beat quality sometimes, didn't it?

Cutthroat's noisy murder drew his attention. Stupid, stupid Cutthroat. Kicking at the ashes of the Autobot he incinerated. Another moron of the highest form he could happily do without for the rest of his functioning.

Iguanus scowled. Keep calm, Iguanus. Keep calm. They can't help it if they're inferior to me. A sinister smirk tugged at his lip components. And neither can I.

That same smirk evaporated as brilliant flashes and fire suddenly pressed themselves against the windows of the command centre. Iguanus's cranial unit jerked in the direction of the explosion. He did not have a good feeling about this.

Semper Tyrannis - Brig

Scattershot knelt down next to the battered and warped Strafe, who's optics and power levels were barely at the levels necessary to continue functioning. It was a standard practice of the Decepticons, leave their prisoners barely alive and completely helpless for their amusement. The treatment Scattershot's team had endured was no different. Still, the Technobot Commander had not been completely disarmed. His weapons were offline, the ordinance probably removed or at least locked away so he could not access them, but he still had a great deal more to him than the Decepticons dared to believe... his entire team did.

Pulling aside a small panel on Strafe's already twitchy armor, rent and torn in several places along the plate surface, Scattershot was able to expose a small connection of damaged and broken wires. These bundles were typically loose anyways, giving Strafe his rapid twitch and short trigger finger, and were nearly impossible to permanently reattach. Still Scattershot had made it a point to know the designs of his subordinates, their strengths as well as their weaknesses. The bundle he was eyeing now belonged to Strafe's targeting computer relays.

"Don't move Strafe. This might sting, but at least its going to restore some functionality to that left arm actuator of yours." The Technobot Commander chided himself briefly as he reached into the mix of wires and tore out two particularly blackened strands. Black with soot and speckled with gold and copper red, the feeds to his joint. With a quick yank, after placing his knee on the back of the Aerial Gunner's head, Scattershot tore the two ruined wires free and chucked them over his head into a pile of rubbish that was being excavated from the critical injuries.

Strafe for his part yelped and struggled against the pressure of his commander's combat medical treatment. For his own part he had hoped that such a task could have been left to Rad or Brainstorm, or some other engineer. Scrap even Lightspeed would have been more gentle than the brawler.

Scattershot pulled open a small panel of armor plate on his right wrist and exposed two redundancy wires of his own, Red and gold insulation covering the copper conducting cable. He winced himself as he pulled the spares out with a sickening snap.

"I do not think Optimus would agree with your current methods Scattershot." Pyro spoke quietly. His attention no longer on the din of battle and the reverberations of the large battleship in which they were currently held captive.

"I doubt Prime will give a targ's scraplet." Scattershot spun the wire around his index finger before shoving his hand back into Strafe's exposed interior. "The facts are pretty damn clear here. One relatively healthy Autobot and a bunch of scrap piles aren't exactly worth a case of lubricants right now. Even if by some miracle the Steelhaven does knock out the power on this crate. One doesn't stand a chance against an entire ship..." The Technobot Commander omitted the statement regarding how he wouldn't mind the challenge anyways. After all, one against the likes of himself... The Decepticons would probably have to get more mecha.

"But," he resumed finally. "If we can get a couple in decent standing out of the one who is in good service. Then when that time does come, we'll have a better chance of escape." Scattershot pushed the lead into the arm socket of Strafe. He unwound the spooled wire and with a heavy stab connected the secondary lead straight into his targeting computer relay system jack. Once he pushed both leads into place, he proceeded to twist severed wires to reestablish connections to the extreme digits of the vaunted Technobot Sniper. Not knowing how long the patch would hold, Scattershot closed the armor plate on Strafe's back shoulder and gently helped him up.

Strafe rotated his arm twice and began a rapid countdown of his fingers before flexing his elbow. "Wow, never expected that before... Thought that I'd be forced to..."

Scattershot put his hand over Strafe's mouth to get him to tone it down. "Look, its temporary. Don't go showing off or you'll undo whatever it is I did."

Strafe nodded briefly before turning to Lightspeed and Nosecone, who was resting against a slab near Brainstorm.

"Well that's one down," he closed the wrist panel and looked back at the small pile of damaged wires and chips. "Lightspeed, Brainstorm. See if you two can't repurpose some of those things. Pocket everything."

Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

"Get the slag off me Snapdragon!" Apeface growled angrily in a response to his partner's voiced concerns and shoved the other Horrorcon away from himself with one arm while tearing his rifle from Snapdragon's grip with the other. Giving his long time partner in crime a baleful glare, Apeface proceeded to smash the remains of his rifle against the mangled corpse of an Autobot before him one final time.

A quick private transmission from Apeface to Snapdragon provided the other Horrorcon all the intel he needed in case he hadn't understood the root of the saboteur's actions. >>"Sheesh Snaps, chill. You are taking the horror out of Horrorcon by playing the part of overly caring medbot. You've gotta play the part to keep the role old buddy. Though I have to say the gun deserved that for failing to deliver despite of my patented 'into the battle quadruple checkup' procedure."<<

Scorponok knew. The warlord would never have given the two Horrorcons so much trust and freedom if he didn't. The rank and file though? Better them to be as terrified of the Horrorcons as their enemies were. Preferably even more so. Fear kept them running in the right direction after all. That being said, Apeface really needed another gun - especially now with Fortress Maximus having decided to lead his troops for a futile counter-attack.

"Treadshot! You have more guns than you need! Gimme one or I'll throw you at Maximus!"

((OOC: Sorry, Sid. I wanted to move things along. Just picture little Cipher laughing his ass off after Wheelie was shoved through the portal! Bam! Post done. Moving on.))

Garrus – 9 – Command Center

Movement from the Decepticon troops to the Garrus – 9 Command Center had decreased to a mere trickle. With a smug smirk plastered on his face Cipher had motioned to the small team he had gathered to follow the rest of the Decepticons through the portal.

The slight scientist appeared on the opposite side of the transportation opening and took a quick cursory glance around.

Whatever resistance had been still occurring was being taken care of very effectively. Just as Cipher stepped back to look to the room’s mass of terminals a body flew past him followed quickly by a growling snarling white and blue Terrorcon.

Cipher’s face twisted in disgust. His shoulders hunched and his optics quickly offlined when the sound of metal tearing and a muffled yelp came from the Autobot that flew by him. “And stay down! Worthless Autobot!” came the gruff voice of Rippersnapper.

The cryptologist shook his head once his optics came back online. Terrorcons; love to make spectacles of themselves. Cipher snorted as he turned away from the carnage. He then noted that Sparkstalker and Wingspan had stepped through the portal and had made their way to separate terminals. Unwilling to waste his own talents, Cipher took up his own terminal and set to work breaking through any Autobot security codes.

Sparkstalker and Wingspan each sent Scorponok a nod before they took up positions in front of two computers. Once they were settled the telltale tapping of keys began. Commands and codes scrolled easily across the screens.

“Wingspan, take the North and East of the facility. I’ll take the South and West.” The Decepticon Clone sent the Firecon a grunt and set to work on his assigned locations. Sparkstalker took a quick look over his shoulder taking note that Cipher was also at work hacking into the prison’s computer systems.

“Cipher, I’m sending you some encrypted security codes. Break them.” The scientist set to work as soon as the lines of codes hit his screen.

Seconds later Cipher announced, “The first sets are done. Levels one and two…” Cipher’s digits danced swiftly over the keys before he finished his announcement. “…are now unsecured.” He was not finished however, and Cipher set to work on the other levels that worked throughout the penitentiary.

Garrus – 9 – Level 4

It was quiet. Not so that you would slowly go insane, but quiet enough to start to hear the thoughts in your head turn to a one way conversation.

The two Autobots moved through the corridors and levels rather slowly for Streamlight’s liking, but the silence gave the flier time to think about what had happened and what might happen. He concluded that it was the “might” he didn’t like very much.

Rung finally spoke catching the young mech slightly off guard. “Streamlight, I want you to understand that we are heading down through Level 4 only to get to our destination. Is that clear?” Rung peeked over his shoulder to make sure his companion was paying attention.

Streamlight cocked his head slightly but remained quiet. He wasn’t sure how to respond. First they were heading to the Last Resort now they were heading down several more levels. He had no clue where the psychiatrist was leading him and now he had to plow through without stopping?

“I guess.” Streamlight shrugged. “You guess?” Rung stopped and let out a heavy sigh. “What’s wrong, Streamlight?”

The white and red flier averted his optics as he offered his answer. ”I know why you don’t want us to stop. I don’t like it, but I know why.” Rung nodded and placed his hand gently on the guard’s right forearm, just above the stump that was his hand.

Garrus – 9 –Level 4 – Cell Block C

“AGH! What the slag is going on?!” Kronus slammed his fist against the control panel in his cell for what could have been the millionth time. He had been at it for hours now and he hadn’t gotten so much as a spark.

The thief stood up to his full height and stepped back from his door. Kronus placed both hands on his hips and began pacing his cell. There had to be a way to hack it and then get the hell out of here. So far those codes that he received were useless. He was going to have to have a nice talk with Brace about that.

A deep frown formed on his face as he lowered his hands and sent a solid front kick to the metal door. “Damn you, Brace. When I get my hands on you I’m gonna rip that fat head off your shoulders and then chew your face off.”

With a heavy sigh Kronus stepped back to his cot and plopped down. He leaned as far back as the inhibitor claw would allow and cast a baleful glare at the obstruction keeping him locked away.

The sound of low murmurs caught the Decepticon thief’s attention making him slowly rise from his cot and work his way to the cell door. The talking was low making it difficult to hear what was being said and who the voices belonged to.

“Remember what I said. No stopping. Just keep moving. Alight?” Rung kept his voice low, nearly a whisper. Streamlight finally grunted in response before he whipped his head around to look at the orange ‘Bot. “Yeah. I heard you the first hundred times. Now let’s just go so I don’t have to hear you say it anymore.”

Rung cringed at the mech’s curt answer and decided to keep quiet until they were out of Block C.

“Hello?! Someone there?!” Kronus slapped his cell door sending a clanging echo through the entire Block. “That you Spree?! You said you’d be back. I didn’t think it’d be for hours! Where’ve you been?!” Kronus’ voice quieted as he waited to hear the guard. Nothing. Odd. Usually Spree was all too quick to tear him down. Now nothing. This wasn’t Spree. Maybe…

“Streamlight?! Streamlight, is that you?! Come on, someone answer me!” Frustrated Kronus pounded the door several more times, each strike harder than the last.

“Doc, we can’t…” Rung shook his head at the concerned guard as he began to finally walk pass the ‘Con’s cell. From just over the door a pair of dimly lit optics watched. A clank rang out just as the guard came into view. “Streamlight! Damnit! What the slag’s happening?! Answer me!”

Streamlight stopped and lowered his head, his optics focused on the ground. “I…I’m sorry Kronus. I have to go. I’m sorry.” He began to move but froze when another clang came from the cell followed by a low hurt voice. “I trusted you. I talked to you. I opened up to you…” Kronus’ voice lowered further. “I thought we were friends.”

“We have to go now, Streamlight. Come on.” Rung’s voice cut through the sudden silence. He knew he had to go but how could he just leave the mech here. “I’m sorry, Kronus. I hope you can forgive me.” Rung sent a quick nod in Streamlight’s direction before he turned and pressed on.

Streamlight glanced up once Rung had turned and continued on before he slipped over to the cell door. He placed his left finger against his lips and motioned for Kronus to step back.

A moment later the door slowly slid open revealing the still black cell. The sound coming from behind him caused Rung to stop and quickly turn around. He was in time to see the door slide the rest of the way open. Within the blackness stood a shadowy figure with Streamlight standing just outside of the cell.

“Streamlight. NO! Get out of there!”

Space around Elba

A line of Sweeps arced upward over the forward bow of the Decepticon Worldsweeper as plasma fire erupted in the open space nearby where an Autobot frigate was going through its own death throes under the massive onslaught it was absorbing.

Another massive energy burst was rocketing spaceward, but it had come from the moon's surface. Scourge, as well as the majority of his more competent Sweeps, had managed to steer well clear of those destructive energies. The other Decepticon vessels were not nearly so nimble. And despite being well-armored, none of them would withstand repeated blasts from a weapon of that magnitude.

>>"Scourge do you copy? This is Finback. I need your Sweeps on that ground to air turret before we lose more ships to it."<<

It seemed as if the acting captain well recognized this threat also. They all had, he was sure, there had just been no realistic means of focusing on those turrets while there was still such a strong Autobot naval presence in Elba's surrounding airspace. That strength was being chipped away, however, by the overwhelming force that Scorponok had brought to bear on accomplishing this mission. Scourge could afford to let his attentions drift planetside.

>>"I copy. En route now,"<< Scourge said, before opening a wider link with the rest of the functional huntsmen in space. >>"Sweeps, on me."<<

From various angles and various points of the battle, the streamlined, blue-and white craft converged on Scourge's position as the Tracker arced downward towards the moon's surface and the massive, industrial prison complex where the fighting was arguably as fierce as it was in space, if not more so, due to the Autobots' having a more obvious advantage.

The turret was not just firing wild. Another blast, following the a similar trajectory to the first, blazed past the Tracker and his Huntsmen. Scourge's sensors registered another explosion of epic proportions.

Behind them, The Flame of Serenity frigate and its now erstwhile captain Petroscan had weathered the first of the blasts as well as could be expected and was clearly attempting to maneuver out of the way of a second such impact. Their attempts were largely in vain however, as a variety of critical systems had already begun to shut down after the first blast, leaving it almost as little more than a sitting petrorabbit for the second. And when the second came, the frigate erupted in a burst of flames that were anything but serene, cascading the battlefield of space in fiery oranges and reds.

Some of the defensive fire from the prison towers had begun to focus on Scourge and his Sweeps as soon as it had become clear that their target was now the last of the major, ship-destroying turrets. At least on the outside of the prison. Scourge would not be surprised to find that a mech like Fortress Maximus might have others stashed away. Regardless, dodging smaller, more precise weapons fire was proving to be much more problematic.

>>"Assault it from the air. Do not stop until it is in flames,"<< Scourge ordered and the other Sweeps commed back their various responses of understanding. While they were doing that, Scourge himself would engage in an alternative strategy.

Transforming in mid-air, Scourge slammed against one side of the massive turret base, his crimson claws digging into the tempered steel as he began to scramble across one side, out of the way of the sniper and other weapons fire coming from the core structures of the prison complex.

No obvious way in.

So be it.

He would make a way.
___

Garrus-9--Southern Wing--Block B

"Who said anything about fighting?" Stormwrecker asked, as calmly as if the two mechs had been sitting over a cylinder of oil at Maccadam's as opposed to standing in the midst of a full-on riot.

The guard, of course, presented a problem. Stormwrecker's first desire upon getting a taste of this new-found freedom was not to suddenly find himself incarcerated again--or worse. If fighting somehow helped that to remain a reality, then he would oblige. Vroom, it seemed, had similar ideas. And of a less lethal variety than Stormwrecker had been entertaining. In the end, he supposed, the result was the same and the guard was incapacitated and effectively out of their way. That's all that mattered.

"The prison has to be on lockdown. Whatever the highest level is. Don't know. Don't care. But it is going to make going anywhere else something of a problem."

Stormwrecker's attention turned toward what appeared to be the major impact point of the crash and the subsequent breach that had been struck between the ship and the prison interior. Getting inside that ship--it was an appealing thought, were it not for the sight of the Terrorcons. Stormwrecker froze. That would not be good.

That would not be good for any of them.

The power was already flickering due to the sizable damage the breach had caused. Almost on cue, the power seemed to cut out entirely, eliminating any natural illumination in the entire cell block and forcing Stormwrecker's optics to adjust as best they could.

Just. Great.
___

Garrus-9, Southern Wing--Steelhaven Breach Point

>>"Scroller!!!!!"<<

>>"Oh slag! Get back! Get back!!!!!"<<

>>"Drainor to anyone! We have Terrorcons inside the southern wing! I repeat! We have Terrorcons inside the southern wing! I need reinforcements and I need them now!"<<

>>"I read ya. Backup's coming!<<" Rocktread commed as all the lights and other equipment had gone down shortly after the Steelhaven had breached the penitentiary.

He'd had to say that over and over in his mind a few times just to absorb the reality of what had happened: the Steelhaven--had breached--yeah, it wasn't good. And it really wasn't becoming something that was becoming easier to accept with repetition either. But that was already a lifetime ago now it seemed. Now they were fighting for their lives with an increasing number of freed prisoners who wanted nothing more than to exercise some payback and maybe score some cool points with Megatron.

>>"You there Rocky?"<< Treadrock commed in.

>>"Good to hear ya, bro. Yeah, I'm here. We got 'Cons. And bad ones."<<

>>"I heard. Terrors, right? Can you see 'em?"<<

>>"I can't see slag, man. Are you in the same wing I am?"<<

>>"Use your dark specs. Infrared, whatever works. I know it ain't natural, but we use what we gotta use."<<

>>"Dark specs?! I never got the upgrade, bro. I'm stationed on Garrus-9! I never expected to not have, y'know, light!"<<

>>"Idiot. Just hold on."<<

Rocktread switched his optics to some ancient infrared frequency and stood over one of the balconies, looking at the breach point below as he leveled his rifle.

>>"Oh yeah, they're here. Get here quick, man,"<< Rocktread said before motioning two of the other guards with him to take up flanking positions.

"Unload on those monster glitches!"

Garrus-9--Command Center

Sounds of weapon fire. Explosions. It was no surprise. Scorponok would have been fooling himself had he expected Fortress Maximus to take his offer. It had been a veiled offer of mercy from a being who had built an image for himself where mercy had no room to exist. There simply was no other way to keep an army that included a large number of killers and psychopaths under control. In Fortress Maximus' optics he had undoubtedly become an embodiment of evil. Was he? It was a continuous internal conflict within his neural processors. Scorponok didn't wish to kill everything on his path to reach his goals. And yet at the very same time he'd gladly crush all who opposed him to bring an end to this insufferable civil war. To unite Cybertronians once more under the same cause. Battle had become a second nature to him. He desired it. He could hear it calling for him - its siren song enthralling him time after time. And to be fair, he wasn't even certain anymore if he could stop answering to its call were the Decepticons ever to reach the brink of the perfect society Megatron had envisioned so long ago.

>>"So this is your answer Maximus?! So be it! Have it your way! Strike my Decepticons! Destroy the Autobots and decay of our species they stand for!"<< Scorponok found himself roaring into the communications link he had spread across the prison facility. Fortress Maximus, you wretched fool. The deaths of your men will be on your hands. I cannot back out no more.

"Rraaarh!" Roaring out his frustration and anger, Scorponok clamped his claws on Fortress Maximus' command chair, tearing the massive construct of the floor it was bolted on to and proceeded to throw it like an enormous bowling ball into an open corridor the Autobots had managed to force his troops to withdraw from - sending several Autobots scurrying for cover before they'd be flattened by mere furnishing.

"Concentrate fire to that corridor!" Scorponok roared out an order, his shoulder mounted twin photon blasters rotating to firing position in case any Autobot would dare to show his face after his last attack.

So, Fortress Maximus thought he had the upper hand because he knew this facility better than Scorponok? Well, Fortress Maximus did not have an access to a personal spacebridge and hundreds of Decepticons waiting to march through it, now did he? Maximus could try to make a push at his lost command cradle all he wanted but it was not going to be enough. Not by a longshot. Scorponok and his lieutenants had the facility's layout memorized from the blueprints they had stolen. They had analyzed it. They had pinpointed its weaknesses, its choke points. They would be able to hold the positions they had overwhelmed. And while the Autobot still likely had certain surprises waiting the blueprints had not given him an access to, Scorponok knew more than Maximus would have liked him to know already.

Making sure he had the earlier prison wide comm-link closed, Scorponok activated another comm-line, a heavily encrypted one, and reached out to one of his strategists still on board the Semper Tyrannis. >>"Bugly! Close the portal and re-open it in these coordinates periodically! I will have Fortress Maximus flanked and pushed towards the Southern Wing of the prison! This battle will conclude on my terms! Not his!"<<

>>"It will be done my liege."<< Bugly responded nearly immediately.

The portal opening in the command center disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Only to open in a currently secure enough location on Fortress Maximus' right flank - allowing a heavy artillery unit consisting of Skullgrin, Demolishor and Quake among the many, to set up a firing position the Autobots couldn't ignore. The portal behind the artillery unit died out, only to appear now on another key position the Autobots would have wanted to take for themselves were they to surround the command center. The Decepticons stalking through it did not have the firepower of the other group but they were no less deadly. Assassins and marksmen, led by a terror of the night known by the name Bomb-Burst.

>>"First two units in position High Commander."<< Bugly's voice reached Scorponok's audio receptors again.

>>"Excellent. Fortify the flanks with Vehicons in these positions and prepare Horri-Bull's charge squad to enter the fray from here."<< A sinister smile grew on Scorponok's face as he observed the tactical layout of the prison and his troop positioning through an optical HUD while sending Bugly a datastream of the positions he wanted more troops transported in. >>"Oh, and tell Skullgrin to fire at will."<<

Scorponok turned his gaze towards his team of technicians while firing a ground shattering blast from his twin photon blasters into the corridor he had thrown Maximus' command chair into, obliterating an Autobot and good chunk of the corner the hapless guard had dared to take a peek at the command center from. "Soul Siren! Reach out to Cyclonus again! I need to know his current position and fighting ability and how many of his troops survived Steelhaven's crash landing!"

Garrus-9--Southern Wing--Block B

"Lockdown? I'm not too sure about that." Vroom said as he looked over the gun he had taken from the guard. "If they could really lock us down then would not be sending guards in here when they could be used out there."

He saw the direction that Stormwrecker was looking at and spotted what had caused his reaction.

"Lights always go out when you least need them to. Was that a Terrorcon? Yikes. If they are sending those maniacs in the first wave then saving prisoners really is no priority to them."

He passed his hand around the rifle until he found the button that activated the light in front of the rifle. He aimed it forward and used it to light his way forward.

"Well, just standing here waiting to die is kinda dull. I'm going to go out there and find out exactly whats going on."

Garrus-9--Command Center

Soul Siren continued to work with the computer systems as Scorponok had commanded. She would occasionally look over her shoulder and watch her fellow Decepticons continue the attack and she could not help but feel the creeping sense of envy come to her. She wished she could participate in the battle, to take up arms in the name of the cause, but she knew she could not. She silently continued on with her work until Scorponok called for her.

"It shall be done Sir." She replied and opened a communication channel to Cyclonus.

"Commander Scorponok requires to know your current position, fighting ability, and the number of troops that survived the crash."

Garrus-9--Command Center

Snapdragon shook his head and replied to the private transmission.

"Apey, look around you. Having a beast mode causes people to fear us but also makes them think we are stupid. We are lucky that the boss also has a beast mode so he understands but how many commanders have we had before who would just use us as brainless thugs? Let the other Cons fear us but never let them think we are dumb. Still, a conversation for later."

He looked towards the main hallways that Scorponok was shooting into.

"Lets go do what we do best Apeface."

He walked beside Scorponok.

"Sir, please stop firing for a moment and let us Horrorcons go over there and flush those 'Bots out into the open for ya."

Horrorcons did not do foolhardy charges. They would use their speed, toughness, and the Autotobt's horror to do the job smartly. By now, Snapdragon thought that Scorponok, at least, realized that.

Garrus 9 - Command Center

Treadshot was merrily shooting Autobots, employing all sorts of trick shots, having grown bored with regular scoped shooting. Scorponok had entered the fray and so had Fortress Maximus. The gunslinger intended to give those two a wide berth. Let the gargantuan giants duke it out. No sense getting obliterated in the crossfire.

It was when the Horrocon Apeface shouted something about giving him one of his guns. Treadshot gunned down another Autobot guard with one of his trick shots before turning to look at the Horrorcon. His gun was a mottled wreck of metal in his head.

"Are you glitched in the head?!" Treadshot asked Apeface incredulously. Having no particular desire to be thrown at Fortress Maximus, Treadshot stifled the rest of his retort with a growl and tossed over the rifle he had been using.

"You owe me a new rifle if you slag that one!" Treadshot grumbled as he called Catgut over to him. The homicidal feline bounded back to his master and leaped, transforming in mid-air to his particle blaster alt mode. The gunslinger took out his frustration on the nearby Autobot guards.

Ba-ba-ba-bang!

------

Garrus 9 - Cell Block H

And....finished. It had taken a good deal of determination from the Monstercon artisan. What with a ship being plowed into the side of the southern wing and now that the power being out. Slog stared at his masterpiece by the faint light of his amber optics. Well...if it could be a called that. It was his best under the circumstances.

Slog turned around to examine the confines of his cell, adjusting his optics for the gloomy atmosphere. He had no luck at all. While some cells had been damaged so that their inhabitants could make their way out, his remained relatively untouched.

The Monstercon moved over to the bars and glanced about for anything within his reach that might be able to help with his current imprisoned status. His actuators groped around in the dark without much luck. Wait. Was that? Yes.

Slog's hands closed around the end of a piece of railing. It was partially buried under what looked like a pile of debris. A few good yanks and it came free. Slog stood and examined his prize. This could've made for a nice piece of a sculpture or a tool with which to paint with...Oh well. Ought to put it to its best use.

Slog moved over to the door of his cell and jammed the metal rod into the space between the door and the frame as much as he could. Grabbing the end of the rod, Slog heaved, trying to pry the door open with all his might. With a heavy thud, Slog careened backwards onto the floor as the rod snapped, leaving a stub still wedged in the doorway.

Slog sighed and picked himself off of the floor. Well that failed in spectacular fashion. With the remnants of the railing still clutched in hand, Slog walked back over to the bars to watch the moving forms in the darkness, hoping that one of his teammates or someone else would see fit to free him.

"Hello? Someone mind letting me out?"

------

Garrus 9 - Steelhaven Breachpoint

The lights of the prison blinked out of existence as the southern wing powered down, enshrouding the cell blocks in darkness. The inky shroud was perforated by the flash of gunfire and the sparking open wounds of the injured as well as the low glow of optics. Snaptrap’s optics adjusted to the darkness easily, the darkness of the prison a poor comparison to the darkness of the ocean depths that he and his team were so accustomed to traversing.

The sounds of terrified screaming and the rending of metal drew Snaptrap’s attention to another form in the dark. Hun-Grr. A few Autobots stood in the darkness between them, trying to mount a proper defense. They only had optics for the Terrorcon commander, watching as he ate one of their own alive. Snaptrap addressed his team over the comm.

>>”Kill anything that isn’t a Decepticon. Stay close,<<” were the simple orders.

Transforming into his alternate mode, Snaptrap fired several sonic shells at the Autobots foolishly attempting to subdue Hun-Grr. Lunging forward with purpose, Snaptrap transformed again, sliding into the small group of Autobots, sword in hand. The Autobots had been panicked before, witnessing their comrades being devoured by the monstrous Terrorcon, but now that they had another threat to contend with, their shots went wild.

-------

Quickshift was frantically trying to reload his blaster, jamming another cartridge into the gun while two fellow guards tried to bring down that gargantuan Terrorcon. Shakily and rapidly, Quickshift hefted his blaster up and was about to pull the trigger when something big and heavy crashed into the back of his head. His optics flickered once and then everything blanked out to black for a moment.

When Quickshift’s optics came back online, the sounds of his friends’ screaming filled his audio receptors. Something heavy landed on top of him. He tried to twist about to see what had pinned him down onto the floor when something spherical landed inches from his faceplate. The head of one of his friends. An expression of horror was frozen on his face in his dying moments as his optics flickered out to darkness.

Quickshift groped around for his blaster, stifling a scream. Find your blaster. Find your blaster. Was that it? Yes! Thank Primus. Quickshift pulled his blaster to him and looked around, trying to find the Decepticon responsible. There. That looked like…one of the Seacons. With a heave, Quickshift pushed the corpse of his friend off of him.

“Don’t worry, Forgefist…I won’t let this slagger get away with what he did to you,” Quickshift muttered under his breath.

The young guard opened fire on the hulking Seacon. The mech turned to cast a disdainful glace, seemingly undaunted by Quickshift’s volley. Gritting his dental plates, Quickshift hastily struggled to reload while scampering away. A flash and Quickshift had no hands with which to reload. Or a blaster. In fact, it seemed that he didn’t have much of a chest anymore. Quickshift was sprawled on the floor beside his comrade. His optics started to malfunction and his sight darkened. Lights became distant blurs until all sensation faded away entirely.

------

“Hun-Grr,” Snaptrap called out in the darkness, “We need to search for the Monstercons.”

Garrus 9 – Cell Block B – Stingray’s Cell

The unsure smile that made it onto Regulator’s visage had quickly faded and was replaced by a concerned frown. “No? What do you mean no?” he shot back. “Hey, listen, you wanna get out of here and I wanna stay alive, but there’s no way we can do that by traipsing around the upper levels of this place trying to find a shuttle?” Regulator raised his optics to the hole in ceiling and let out a heavy sigh.

Once he had calmed his uneasy nerves he lowered his gaze back down to Stingray. “I’m gonna remove the claw and then we’re gonna try and come up with some kind of solid plan that doesn’t involve improvising every step of the way.”

He stepped toward the femme, hands up so she could see he wasn’t going to attack her in anyway. Regulator carefully moved behind her and began to release the inhibitor claw. He could only hope that once she was free of it she wouldn’t turn on him. “So, we need weapons.” He said as he worked. “There’s a locker not far from here. It’s near a security station. We can load up there.” He kept his vocalizer low as he fidgeted with the device slapped on Stingray’s back.

“Ahh. There we go.” With a low click the claw was easily pulled off and away now giving the femme full use of her transformation cog. Regulator stepped back a concerned expression on his face. “So, how do we do this?”

Garrus 9 – Cell Block B – Umbra’s Cell

Mandate growled lowly when his arm was suddenly grabbed and the femme moved to take out the most vulnerable spot…the elbow. “Agh! I don’t think so glitch!” He planted his rear foot and yanked hard causing his trapped appendage to slip free.

“Oh you’re gonna pay for that little move missy.” Mandate grit his teeth hard enough that his jaw began to ache.

Suddenly, a wicked smile grew on the guard’s face just as he positioned himself in front of the defensive Umbra. He quickly set his stance, leaned back and sent a powerful push kick directly toward the smaller femme’s chest. If it connected the force of the move would send her back against the wall giving him the opportunity, and the time, to close in and finish his work.

As his leg shot up and out he heard the voice of someone else lurking just outside of the cell. Good’ More ‘Cons to tear apart.

((OOC: You can take Mandate from here if you want Fox. It’s up to you.))

((OOC-Garrus catchup Part 1))

Garrus-9--Steelhaven Breachpoint

The point where the massive Autobot battleship had breached the fortified prison walls was now leaking like a sieve with Decepticons. Not charging forward en masse, but rather trickling, biting and otherwise clawing their way through the rubble in order to find any way possible into the prison proper. The Terrorcons of course had managed the feat with relative ease. And the Seacons not far behind them.

The Insecticons were equally industrious, with diaclones chewing out an increasingly larger and larger hole inside the breach point.

Bombshell skittered his way through the breach, leaving charred diaclone carcasses in his wake as the battle was still raging on the walls. The other core Insecticons were not far behind him, and as soon as they had passed, additional diaclones continued to stream into the darkened cell block.

The cacophony of chaos that greeted them was nearly as great as it had been on the prison exterior. Only now it was much more concentrated.

And, perhaps, easier to identify specific targets.

"This is our great plan?" Venom challenged as he too climbed along the walls.

"Do you do anything besides complain? You have no idea how annoying it is," Bombshell shot back as he climbed with the others through the darkened cell block, sometimes narrowly skittering by one of the screaming prisoners by mere centimeters. "We're inside aren't we? Try doing something constructive. Eh, or destructive. Whichever works."

Garrus-9, Southern Wing--Steelhaven Breach Point

He had seen these two monsters before. Way back when most of Cybertronians hadn't even considered the possibility of a civil war brewing in the pits of Kaon. It had been harmless fun for the masses. Pit fighting that was. Something far more exciting than any of the sanctioned combat sports. Sure, it hadn't been exactly legal and the Senate had publicly denounced it. But still, little the Senate had put in little effort in tracking down and closing these gladiatorial events. Likely because some senators were themselves either financially involved with the profitable market or bribed to look the other way. And Drainor? He had been an avid fan of these fighting events. Buying the holovids, live-streams and even occasionally travelling to Kaon to witness a big event live with his own optics.

He had seen all the greats. Megatron. Clench. Grimlock. Killmaster. Lugnut. Overlord. Razorclaw. Snaptrap. Terrorcon. The deaths and energon spilled in the pits had not meant anything to him other than the ecstasy and thrill of the moment. He had probably even chanted with the other spectators in favor of the winner taking the life of the loser more often than not. Then the war began. And his former idols went on a killing spree across the planet, now calling themselves the Decepticons. Death and destruction were now brought to his face instead of being chained into the pits. No place was safe anymore. You couldn't just walk away and live your life. You had to choose a side. And when the time came, the choice had been far easier than he had thought possible. He had found out that he very much preferred the old way of things to these revolutionists. He did not want to see Cybertron burn.

And now he was making a stand against one of the most despicable and powerful gladiators he had ever seen in the pits. The Terrorcon. A cannibalistic monster whom Drainor could very recall being the centerpiece of several dozen of rumors involving sparkeater conspiracy theories. And the Terrorcon was not alone. No, alongside the hulking two-headed dragon stood his often tag-team partner, a filthy brute whom had been known as Blight. Or Blot behind his back. A powerful gladiator on his own right but far too thick in the upstairs to be one of the greats.

Drainor knew he didn't stand a chance. But the only thing he had was hope. Perhaps reinforcements Rocktread had promised would make big enough difference. They had to. He wanted to live.

Scroller's screams died out. The Terrorcons had finished torturing their first meal upon entering Garrus-9. They had moved past Scroller's pain receptors.

Blight appeared from the breach, obviously sent by the bigger Terrorcon to scout ahead. It didn't take long for the brute to take notice of Drainor and began lumbering forwards towards him. Drainor jumped out of his hidey-hole and found himself unloading burst after burst from his neutron rifle at the odd looking monstrosity while backing down. It appeared only to irritate the beast at best, as its lumbering turned into something akin of jogging. Panicking, Drainor turned around and began running away from the dark blue monster as fast as he could. A balcony. He had to get to one of the balconies. That monster couldn't possibly climb now could it? There. He saw couple of targeting lasers flashing by him from one of the balconies. Rocktread and the other guards. Guns spoke. Explosions followed. And roar of frustration from the monster chasing him. Drainor turned to look behind. Blight was no where to be seen, having been swallowed by the darkness and smoke. Perhaps he still stood a chance. He just had to get to the upper levels, to the other Autobots.

The ground began trembling. Something big and heavy was moving in and fast. Drainor did not need a visual confirmation on the identity of the new attacker. The Terrorcon had finished its first meal and was looking out for more victims to feast upon. Flames reached up to the balconies swept away the darkness. Burning through the defenses of weaker guards even from such range. Drainor could only watch in horror as one of the Autobots on the balcony turned red hot from the immense heat and fell down, only to be snatched from mid-air by the powerful jaws of the Terrorcon. The balconies did not offer protection Drainor sought. Where the slag were their big guns? Where the slag was Fortress Maximus?

A hideous stench reached his olfactory sensors, followed by a sudden dreadful realization. How long had he been standing there mesmerized? Blight. Blight was upon him. Drainor found himself staring at the foul smelling monstrosity from eye to eye. Greasy, old lubricant pouring from every orifice of the monster had been set ablaze by laser fire. It had not stopped the creature that really didn't deserve to be called a Cybertronian. Drainor swung his rifle at the beast's snout with all of his might - the impact actually being strong and surprising enough to turn Blight's head slightly to left. Slightly. Before Drainor could make a run for it, Blight reached out with his massive arms and yanked him off the ground, only to smash him violently against the ground. Once. Twice. The first smash had almost been enough. The second one made Drainor lose his consciousness. But not before hearing someone to address the Terrorcon and mention the name Monstercons.



"I need to do nothing Snaptrrrap." Hun-Gurrr growled, barely bothering to remove either of his two mouths from his current source of nourishment. "But I'll let you humorrr me if you keep the carrrnage alive."

*CRUNCH*

The crunching sound captured Hun-Grrr's attention, one of his head turning to look at its source. Blot. The smaller Terrorcon was holding a limb body of an Autobot in his claws. A headless body of an Autobot, for whatever was left of the guard's head was obviously enough inside Blot's mouth.

"Yes. I wish to see if these Monsterrrcons are worrrthy of theirrr name."

Semper Tyrannis--Brig

Lightspeed looked down at the remnant equipment leftover from the makeshift repairs that Scattershot had been performing and quietly did as his commander had said. Given its condition, it was hardly even Beta grade leftovers, but in the circumstances they were in, Lightspeed agreed that they would need to salvage anything they could even if they had no idea what it could be used for--since Lightspeed currently didn't--on the off chance a flash of inspiration struck later. They were Technobots after all, that sort of thing did tend to happen with them.

Having stashed away his own share of the goodies, the Technobot leaned back against the wall of their cell, still rubbing his head lightly from the aftermath of Soul Siren's interrogation.

"I'm surprised they haven't sent anyone to check on us. They must really be distracted, or really confidant that we're not going to escape. I suppose I don't blame them either way."
___

Pointblank had watched as the Technobots went about their work and Pyro offered up something of a mild protest for what the unit leader was doing. In other circumstances, Pointblank might have agreed. But in this situation, he had to agree that the more of them that could at least function on their feet and use a weapon if and when the time came would give them slightly better odds. Slightly better than, say, the terrible odds they were already facing.

"We've speculated about anything and everything regarding why the 'Cons are doing what they're doing. It all boils down to the fact that they're 'Cons. This is what they do. All we can do now is wait. They'll slip up and leave us an opening somewhere. When they do, we take it."
___

Garrus-9--Southern Wing--Block B

Stormwrecker didn't really have the time or the inclination to argue with Vroom's assessment of the Terrorcons' presence. He figured he was pretty much spot on in that case: if that particular unit was being deployed here, now, then search and rescue was hardly the primary objective of this attack. Stormwrecker wondered what it could be, but only for a moment. Now was not exactly the time. There were more shapes besides the Terrorcons that were filtering their way through the visible wreckage point, casting strange shadows against the random flickers of blaster fire.

"Well, just standing here waiting to die is kinda dull. I'm going to go out there and find out exactly whats going on."

"No arguments from me," Stormwrecker said, deciding that following after this Autobot was his best option for the time being.

"WE'RE FREE! WE'RE FREE!!! HAHAHAHAHA!" a mech shouted, running past Stormwrecker and Vroom into one of the darkened access corridors. The old arms dealer watched for moment--as best he could--and sighed as the mech quickly vanished into the darkness.

"Just don't lead us straight into Hungrr's maw, if it ain't too much trouble."

Stormwrecker continued following.

"A weapon might be nice, too."
___

Garrus-9--Corridors

Blastkick was running as fast as he could down the darkened access hallway leading directly to the. Once he'd heard some of his unit had been trapped in there because of the Code Alpha and the Steelhaven crash, he'd bolted out of the command center as fast as he could. His men would need him more than the division leaders.

He'd gone from well-lit halls to flickering corridors to now complete darkness. His optics adjusted as well as they could under the circumstances, but there was nothing like natural illumination. Still, he was ready to do whatever he could.

Arriving at the last set of blocked off doors, the auxiliary Steelhaven security detail that had been off-duty and on-base when all of this started going down was arriving just as he was from an eastern annex.

"Got the word Blasty. You sure they got a breach in there?" one of the Autobot field leaders said.

"That's where the techs said the ship made impact. Getting slag readings from inside ever since. No power. No support."

"Well they got support now."

"Heh. Yeah," Blastkick said as he opened the panel and began the manual override process.

"What if they get through here, sir? Get through us? Shouldn't we keep 'em contained?"

"We're not going to keep them contained. They're going to get through. So we let them through on our terms. I've got something ready when they start to filter through this way," Blastkick said, disengaging the primary door locks manually. "Gonna need some strength to push these doors back."

An oversized mech with arms that were almost on par with his torso stepped through the small crowd of Autobots.

"Got this," he said, before digging his fingers into the crevices of the door and then straining but eventually prying them open.

"Let's go!" the field leader said, throwing caution to the wind with his unit fast behind him, charging down the last access corridor leading straight into the southern wing cell blocks. Blastkick got his own weapon ready and followed. He didn't make it more than two steps before something much stronger than him stopped his progress and sent his weapon clattering to the floor.

"I believe you might have what I need," Cyclonus said calmly. "Come with me."

>>"Commander Scorponok requires to know your current position, fighting ability, and the number of troops that survived the crash."<<

>>"Transmitting position coordinates now. Leaving the southern wing. I am about to access the deeper levels of Garrus. No casualty reports...of any substance."<<

"Y' think everything's just going according to your plan, don't ya, pointy?"

Cyclonus looked down at Blastkick as they walked forward slowly, the arm that was currently restraining the Autobot's head in place tightening ever so slightly.

"Quiet, Autobot, if your continued existence is of any immediate concern to you."
___

Garrus-9--Command Center

Sinnertwin leapt through the fire, like something out of the pits of one of Unicron's nightmares and seized upon the first Autobot to come within his path, the flame-laden beast biting down into the Autobot's tender metals with teeth that were forged from the heaviest steels.

Before the Autobots, or even Maximus himself, could get an accurate bead on him, Sinnertwin was off again.

From his periphery, he noticed Iguanus, even as the rest of the world around them had seemingly exploded into fire and debris.

Oh yes, that glitch owed a high debt. Sinnertwin would see to it that it was paid.
___

Mindwipe had done his dead-level best to not be overcome by the world he had stepped into. Leaving the peaceful sanctity of the Semper Tyrannis only to be welcomed into this rush of madness had not been exactly what he was expecting. Scorponok was here though, and he knew that all was not lost. All would never be lost so long as that mech still functioned.

As it was, he was no hacker, but he had accessed one of the terminals that had been abdicated by one of the now dysfunctioned Autobots and was doing his best to download and store information about the facility as quickly as he could, information that was only available within Garrus-9 itself, so that it would hopefully be of some use later in Cipher's more detailed work. In addition to that, Mindwipe was furiously trading communiques back and forth with Decepticons that were battling in the field.

"Scourge is being less than cooperative........however; I've got a Seeker detachment that can break off from the space engagement as soon as we need them! If all else fails, well, I do have an 'in' with an Insecticon!" Mindwipe called out over the chaotic din of battle. "The Seekers will rendezvous with us at our final destination! Aequitas! If they survive..."

Semper Tyrannis

Wheelie did not speak, even to what seemed to be the only mech who actually didn't find him annoying and wanted to rip his throat out. But, like some stupid ironic joke, Wheelie was surrounded by the kind that killed Cleff, his mother figure. She took care of him, taught him how to read, write rhyme... Everything. Cleff was more than a friend, she was family; and he had just witnessed her death right in front of him once more by those branded with the Decepticon insignia. What's more, he was going to be branded one soon. Wheelie couldn't think of a single worse thing in his life than that.

Not even paying a single bit of attention, Wheelie followed Mindwipe blindly as a strange feeling washed over him. It was a feeling he was not familiar with, as it had only begun when he awoke. It was the feeling of... Being watched. Like there was someone right behind you at all times, breathing down your neck. Behind him, Wheelie thought he saw a shadow of someone, which was odd considering the fact that they were alone in the room, as everyone had stepped onto the green vortex and disappeared inside it, leaving only a slightly tardy Wheelie to take a quick glance inside the room. No one; just as it should be.

Wheelie turned and walked through the portal, and in a flash of light, Wheelie was somewhere else entirely. Garrus-9.

Garrus-9 -- Command Center

The orange protoform stepped out of the vortex and felt the ground shudder under his feet, as if a great beast was thumping around around the facility. Fire erupted from walls and terminals, and subsequent smoke billowed out and choked the air. If that mattered to Transformers, it would have been worthy of a gas-mask. Sparks flew from wires that dangled from the ceiling, and Energon leaked from the clearly dead Transformers around him in the assault that had just taken place.

Primus... What have I stepped into... Wheelie thought, aghast.

To Wheelie's surprise, there was a response in his mind.

Your worst nightmare.

Steelhaven Breach point

Tentakill finally caught up with Snaptrap his leader was already stomping his way through the autobot defenders his order was simple kill anything not decepticon. Drawing his slime gun he fired at several autobots trying to flank Snaptrap in the gloom. Thou to a Seacon this was positively brilliant sunshine compared to some of the usual depths they operated at. Utilising the Seacon inter team comms he asked one question “which block are the Monstercon’s held?”

The underwater demolitions expert threw a cylindrical object into a side entrance seconds later a flash followed by a explosion then a cloud of dust flew from the now sealed entrance. Tentakill surged past his commander and barrelled into a group of autobots it was against his usual style but he just wanted to get his hands dirty. A double clothesline levelled the first pair he came across before a savage twist ended with a sickening snap of wiring and rending of metal as he tore an unfortunate autobots arms off and walloped the autobot with them before he went back to the two autobots who he’d laid out in his first attack the first he pummelled with his fist continuously pounding his fist into the cranium of the autobot he stopped only as the other autobot jumped on his back but the autobot on the ground would never stand again where his head once sat was a large crater.

“ ah get off of me you glitch”