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Semper Tyrannis – Hangar

Hun-Grrr’s call to leave the Steelhaven was performed by Rippersnapper, albeit reluctantly. They were passing up the perfect opportunity to decimate the entire crew of Fortress Maximus’ own ship. With some grumbling and some mumbled curses the terrorist stepped back onto the Tyrannis via the boarding chute.

He quickly stepped in line with the other Terrorcons, save Cutthroat of course. Rippersnapper peered in the direction of Snapdragon who had the crazed Terrorcon bird in a solid headlock. Serves him right, the lunatic.

His mental berating of his teammate came to an end when Apeface’s commanding tone broke through the banter within the hangar. Without Hun-Grrr’s presence the only choice he and the others had was to do as they were told.

Rippersnapper’s stance straightened while his optics focused ahead. He was at perfect attention when Scorponok stepped into the hangar.

A smile curled the corner of the terrorist’s lips as their Commander addressed Cutthroat personally. It wasn’t something the Terrorcon flier could refuse. Either he behaved or he died. Simple as that. He could always be replaced.

As Rippersnapper listened to the exchange he and everyone else, felt the violent shaking of their vessel as the boarding chute broke free between the Steelhaven and the Tyrannis. The white and blue Terrorcon lowered his center of gravity and steadied his footing but he was still unable to keep up on both of his feet. As he rose back up from falling to one knee, Rippersnapper looked to Scorponok who had just announced that their target, the Steelhaven was currently on a collision course with the prison.

Was this a good thing or a potential problem? His thoughts were squelched when the gargantuan Decepticon General announced their attack would commence….now. “Death to the Autobots!” He shouted with enthusiasm and quickly began his march to the portal.

****

Cipher had stepped from the gathering hoard of warriors to take up a spot at one of the terminals that were strategically placed throughout the hangar. While the grouping began to make a spectacle of themselves, the scientist began to plot his own little side mission.

It didn’t take long and it wouldn’t take much to get to where he wanted to go and get out. Cipher stood from his chair with a satisfied smile on his face and worked his over to a series of drones. “You two…and you three…” He singled out two Vehicons and three Seekers with one digit. “There is a change in assignment for you five.” The drones looked to one another and then back to the lithe science mech.

“Well? Did I just converse in a language you do not comprehend?” Cipher sent a scowl in their direction. The group flinched slightly before they came to attention and responded. “No sir! Understood sir!”

The smaller mech gave an approving nod and a small smile. With this group of warriors, and potential cannon fodder, he concluded that he should have little trouble making it all the way to the Aequitas chamber. The only obstacle that would need to be handled once they arrived would be the chamber’s security lock. But with his abilities it would not take much time to crack the code.

Cipher’s smile broadened but quickly faded when he looked back at his gathered team. “You five will hold back. We will enter the portal only when Garrus 9’s Command Center is secure, not before. From there we will make our way to or destination. Is that clear?” A round of ‘yes sir’s’ sounded from the small group prompting Cipher to nod in approval.

He took a look over his shoulder and spotted Mindwipe and the little mech that seemed to follow the hypnotist everywhere he went. “Mindwipe,” he called, “I have amassed several drones to accompany us to our intended target.” With a jerk of his head he indicated the portal. “We’ll wait until the Command Center is secure before we move in.” He sent a scowl in Wheelie’s direction as he went on. “Are you planning on bringing…that?”

Garrus-9--Command Center

It was looking dire. Really dire. Like the most dire Vantage had ever seen. He had been lucky enough to be stationed in low risk combat zones most of the war, with his assignment in Garrus-9 surveillance taking a good chunk of his whole service time. It wasn't like he hadn't seen death and destruction brought by the Decepticons before. It just had not been shoved directly at his face like this. Or well, as directly as the surveillance station could deliver. Still, with all those hundreds if not thousands Insecticons and Vehicons hammering the prison's walls, Vantage could feel the grim certainty of approaching end taking hold of his spark.

Vantage had witnessed the Autobot fleet going valiantly into the fray like they always did. But these Decepticons had not come here to harass them. No, they had come to erase Garrus-9 from the surface of the moon it had been standing on for thousands of vorns. Steelhaven, the most powerful ship of the Autobot fleet had somehow been crippled and thus taken out of the battle before it had even had its chance to even the odds. The remaining frigates and corvettes were dropping out of the radar one by one under the constant barrage from overwhelming numbers of the Decepticon warships. The fact that the Decepticons had brought four ships fully or nearly equal of the Steelhaven was not giving the Autobots any handicap either. It simply was too much. No frigate could match the power of a Thanatos-class battlecruiser or ever worse, a Wordsweeper.

Out of the blue the mighty Steelhaven broke away from the Decepticon flagship which clearly had been parked next to the massive Autobot vessel with boarding in mind. Steelhaven's crew having apparently gained the control of their ship again and would now make the Decepticons pay.

"Yes! Make them pay! Go Steelhaven!" Vantage found himself roaring as the command center burst in cheers for this momentum shift in the battle.

>>"Garrus command calling Commander Turboshift. Do you copy?"<<

No response. Odd. Wait. Why the slag Steelhaven's course was changing? A sudden realization of horror made Vantage jump off his chair and look for some one, anyone... that could deny what the computer was now projecting. The looks on the faces of his fellow Autobots gave no such luxury. It is coming at us...

Vantage heard someone booming brace for impact or something else like that. He was frozen. This was simply too much. The approaching dot in the horizon grew second by second. Too much. The Steelhaven's keel hit the ground in low angle couple of miles away from the prison, at least the initial contact with the crust of the moon had been favorable for the Autobot ship. It would survive. Mostly. It didn't really do much to wake up Vantage from the shock he was going through. Though being a witness to an enormous battleship crashing and its momentum making it plough towards your position with tremendous speed could have had something to do about it.

Then everything shook. Both bots and equipment were flying across the command center. Everything scattered. Chaos. He lived. The Steelhaven hadn't hit the command center.

"Damage report?! Anyone!" He heard someone screaming. Vantage couldn't answer. One of the wards was gone. And he was missing his jaw.

*VOIP*

What was that sound? Vantage turned on his feet to face the direction off the sound wave. A spacebridge? That was impossible! The technology had been lost even before the war had began. Where was his gun? Why couldn't he find his gun?

A blur or black, white and violet. Sharp pain in his mid section. He reached down to feel the damage. Hole bigger than his hand. His spark casing cracked. Red visors. Veiled faced.

Laughter and gunfire.

Death.

Garrus-9 Solitary

Dust and debris flew everywhere as something big impacted with the jail the resulting explosion of the wall in front of Bludgeon threw him backward who despite his exceptional agility was thrown into the rear of the cell. If anyone had seen it they would of found it quite comical as the electric warrior slid down the wall after his impact. “the world has gone dark” muttered Bludgeon as his vision swam bright colours erupting from behind his optics as he used pure will power to force himself back to his feet. “I said the iron fist of the Decepticons was coming“ Bludgeon mused thou dropping what felt like a small moon on a prison was a bit extreme even for him.

Poking his head from the cell Bludgeon found bits of ceiling collapsed what looked like a starships ventral fin the remains of a plasma drive, bodies was that a blue phone box Bludgeon shook his head. “The end comes and the sky falls” with his exit assured Bludgeon stepped out onto the gangway past the smears of what he assumed where autobot guards. Even thou he was free of the cell he was unarmed well without weaponry bludgeons mastery of ancient Cybertronian martial arts meant he was a weapon. But there was no way of knowing if more autobots where about cautiously he moved his way towards the exit to solitary dust floated around his legs as he stepped into the unknown.

Garrus 9 - Cell Block B

Stingray did her best to gather her thoughts and explain in short order to Regulator why she was scared. But she was scared, indeed, and being able only to think about immediate survival made concentration difficult.

In the next moment, it all became inconsequential, anyway. A violent tremor ran through the entirety of the block complex. Stingray staggered. The ceiling bucked and ripped with a scream of metal. Chaff and girder sections fell. Regulator barely had the time to avoid getting crushed by a particularly large chunk of crumpled plating. Something crashed against the prison, and it had to be massive to render this much damage. Garrus was practically a gigantic bunker, designed to withstand entire days of continuous bombardment.

Holy slag! What the hell is happening?!

'They're here... they're here!' Stingray's optics snapped left and right. There wasn't much to see through the narrow vision slit, with Regulator pressed against the door and obstructing the view even more but Stingray could clearly make out the flicker of stars through the gash torn into the ceiling. She expected Cons to swarm in any astrosecond now.

'Get me out of here...,' said Stingray, her voice trembling. 'You've got to get me out of here, for slag's sake!'

Garrus-9 – Southern Wing – Cell Block M

The chanting had stopped. A couple of the guards figured if they picked some of the offending prisoners at random to have a good old fashioned talking to—in other words, a beatdown to end all beatdowns—their harsh vocals might be persuaded to make themselves scarce.

Turned out the guards were right. Turned out after the third inmate's...friendly chat, the rest suspected a similar consequence awaited them if they decided to brave it and continue. How wise of them.

Far more amused than disappointed, Wildfly had laughed when the guards had not only opened cell doors violently, but even more violently opened a variety of wounds on the three prisoners' bodies as actuators, pedes, knee joints, elbow joints, and weapons were used to enforce silence. He didn't have a front row seat for any of that prime-time viewing, of course, but if the cursing, screaming and terrible sounds of metal crashing against metal were anything to go by, he'd bet his miserable existence at Garrus-9 that was what had happened.

Who better to know than someone who had received the same treatment in the past?

Though, in all fairness, Wildfly had deserved it. If a sicko had lubricated on you during your shift in the activity area, you would probably have kicked his aft, too, rules and protocols be damned.

Wildfly had claimed it was an opportunity of unparalleled significance to simply ignore. An extended period in solitary confinement had been his reward for the little stunt he pulled. The usual price he paid for the impulsive, living in the moment attitude he was governed by.

While the chanting had been dealt with, cell block M still produced a generous amount of noise. Wildfly wondered if the guards would keep cracking cranial units until a measure of order was restored.

Ah, yes. The beatdowns. About them.

If his audio modules had served him correctly, then he would have heard the wails of his buddy, Quickcut. Poor, poor Quickcut.

Not really. The primary reason for Wildfly's amusement regarding the assaults was because of Quickcut. The two shared an unpleasant history, with debts being owed to the Monstercon. Needless to say, all he had been given back were excuses and disrespect.

Quickcut's suffering delighted Wildfly immensely. He considered it to be one debt he no longer needed to collect.

Seeking more comfort, he shifted into another position. These cots clearly weren't built for relaxation. No surprises there.

“Frag you, Quickcut,” he said. “Frag. You.”

Sudden and powerful, a quaking grasped Wildfly's cell, causing him to fall off his cot. Highly embarrassing, but at least there were none around to guffaw and insult him.

Painted in alternating images of darkness and light, the fickle lumen globes persisted with their work as Wildfly stood, attempting to register what had just transpired. Truth be told, he had no idea—save for the Decepticons possibly being behind it.

Confusion marked his features. “What in the name of frag was that?”

What in the name of frag was that, indeed.

Garrus-9--Rooftops

Fortress Maximus had kept an occasional optic on the battle taking place in the sky. He had seen at least one Decepticon ship go up in blazes, so if the Decepticons were expecting their assault to be turned in to some sort of rout on the Autobots here, Maximus was prepared to disappoint them. The Elban aerial defenses seemed to be holding their own, just as they were down here. The Decepticon invaders were still on the outside of the prison where they belonged. So long as that continued to be true, Maximus knew that he and the forces stationed here simply needed to hold the Decepticons off and deplete their forces until they finally turned aft and fled. After that happened, Max knew that he would likely be meeting with Optimus, Prowl and others to reassess this prison's strategic significance--whatever it was--and get even more 'Bots stationed out here.

Max was never one to complain though. Garrus-9 was never some rinky-dink, undermanned outpost on the outskirts of Autobot command concern. In addition to the facility and civilian forces, there were full complements of ships' crews. The base could hold her own and always had before. But he couldn't say that the Decepticons were throwing some half-afted effort at getting inside either. Whoever was up there commanding this mess, they wanted the prison. Tough slag. Maximus wanted peace and quiet. Looks like they'd both be disappointed.

Max's automatic rifle fire decimated another approaching diaclone cluster. He checked his ammo levels--plenty.

Bring it on, Scorpy. Show your face.

"Max...."

Maximus stopped firing and looked at the other Autobot guard that had spoken while he and Whirl continued to unleash blitz after blitz on the approaching Decepticons. The other Autobot was pointing upward as Max looked up and now noticed that the Steelhaven was going down. Maximus lowered the rifle in his hand just a little as he attempted to wrap his mind around whatever was happening aboard that ship that had now caused it to be on a crash course. His attempts were futile. He had served on that ship for a long time and it was a good one. He had hoped to someday find a more productive use for it once the war was over, but that had been a somewhat vain and certainly very distant hope. One that would now never come to pass.

"It's coming too close! Go! Clear the area!" Max barked out new orders as he watched the ship continue to descend and pick up speed as it did. It was not only going to crash, but it was going to hit the prison.

When the ship crashed it did make contact but it wasn't as direct or destructive as it could have been, at least from what Maximus could see from his vantage point. Small favors. Infinitesimally small. He could feel the tremors of the impact even from his own pretty distant position. His orders to clear the roof had been well-intentioned but impractical. If the ship had crashed deeper into the prison-industrial complex, attempting to flee would have been an exercise in futility anyway. As it was, they were in no danger. Flecks of debris were the only thing pelting Maximus' steely armature at this point.

It was where the ship had made contact that caused more concern. It was in the southern region, where a good number of the prison population was housed and it was obvious that the structures had sustained damage. Not good.

"We're gonna need to get over there, make sure everyone's where they need to be. Then we'll--"

>>"Commander Maximus! We've got.....get those doors sealed off, now!"<<

Fortress Maximus frowned at the transmission and attempted to maintain the transmission integrity with the 'Bot on the other end of the commlink since it was starting to go all static-y and also increasing the audio just in case the others nearby could recognize whoever it was that was trying to make contact with him and where they would be.

>>"This is Max! What's your situation?! I need more--"<<

>>"--commander, we've got Decepticons on the inside. I don't know--"

"--that door's not gonna hold, sir!"

"Get the welders! Seal that slag!"<<

The words being yelled through the commlink became increasingly muffled and garbled as they were intermixed with the sounds of equipment being used and weapons fire.

>>"Hello? I need you to--"<<

Maximus' words were cut off again, but this time it was not by words or welding torches.

The sound of screams could be heard echoing through the comm chatter.

Maximus' expression grew more grim, even as his posture straightened to his full height. So, some of them had got inside somehow. Alright. They wanted to see what it was like on this inside? Maximus was ready to make them regret that.

"Let's go," he said, casting a brief glance at Whirl as he stalked back toward the roof access doors.

Garrus 9 – Cell Block B

The chaos was dying down…at least it seemed to be. Right at that very moment all Regulator could hear were the sounds of mechs screaming and heavy footfalls. And they all seemed to be coming from, well everywhere.

The Autobot turned in a slow circle as he raised his optics to look at the level above and tried desperately to make sense of what had just happened. It wasn’t working. The only thing he was accomplishing was getting dizzy.

Regulator stopped spinning and backed up against Stingray’s cell door. Once the smooth solid mass pressed against his back Regulator slid down into a seated position. He stared at the far wall and just listened to the sounds of bedlam.

He jumped visibly at the sound of the femme’s trembling voice coming from the other side of the cell door. Regulator narrowed his optics and slowly stood back up. The desperation in Stingray’s voice made him wonder why this ‘Con was so desperate to be let loose. “Why should I set you free? You’re a ‘Con. For all I know as soon as that door slips open you’ll rush out here and tear me apart just to get back to your friends.”

Regulator stepped in close to the tiny window and peered inside at the frightened femme. “What’re you so afraid of? I’m the one who should be petrified.”

Garrus 9 – Southern Wing – Minimum Security

For a while everything was good. Several meetings took place and they turned out good. Merchandise was moving smoothly, that was good. Payments went out, good. And money flowed in…that was very good. With a small chuckle Brace picked up a datapad and read through its contents. He should have been incarcerated much sooner. He was getting more done behind bars than he had been before.

Brace shook his head and placed the pad down on the small desk in his cell. Through the bars of his cell he could see the guard who he ultimately relied on for everything, Aileron. The ‘Bot had returned to his regular duties like clockwork, which suited Brace just fine since Aileron was posted in his block. He was always available to him.

The illegal arms dealer had just turned around when the entire complex shook with such a force Brace, and most likely many others, was tossed to the floor.

The sound of tearing metal and crumbling rock resonated off of everything. Screams followed close behind…pained, agonizing screams. Brace’s jaw dropped open as he whipped his head around trying to find out just what had happened and if it was going to continue.

With trembling hands and over bright optics Brace pushed himself up off the floor and very slowly walked to the bars. The few guards who had been assigned to the block were nearly gone. Left behind were two guards, one who Brace never bothered to learn the name of and Aileron, his trusted aid.

After the initial turmoil Aileron and the others simply picked themselves up and answered any and all calls that they had received from other blocks that needed more help. Aileron elected to remain behind. Now he was staring at the only other guard left. “Tapper. Head on over to Block M. Bring Spree with you!” The other guard nodded and took off at a steady pace.

“I thought you’d never get rid of him.” Brace announced shakily. The flier took several steps toward the rotund mech and stopped just short of the cell’s control panel. Brace looked from the panel to Aileron who still hadn’t said a word. “Aileron, what happened? What’s going on?” Half a breem passed and Brace frowned when he still got no answer. With on balled up hand the dealer began pounding the wall demanding to know what had happened.

Brace’s voice became desperate and frightened as he still got no response from his paid guard. “Damn it, Aileron! Answer me! Do as I say! Do you hear me?!” Brace kept up his tirade all the while staring out toward the doors that led from the block.

The arms dealer’s cries quieted down when he saw Aileron move again. The guard’s lips parted and Brace pressed in close to the bars hoping for the answer he was after…what had happened. “I don’t think this business relationship is working out.” Aileron’s voice was calm and collected. Again Brace’s jaw dropped. This was completely unexpected and not to mention crazy. “Wha…what? What do you mean?” He managed to sputter.

When Aileron stepped in even closer Brace stumbled back and away from the bars. The hateful scowl that appeared on Aileron’s visage made Brace flinch in fear. Was this Autobot going to rip him apart? He did just get rid of the only available witness. “The ‘Cons are here and from what I know they’re not gonna be too happy with you.” The flier lowered his voice. “Selling the ‘Cons defective weapons under an assumed identity for a profit…although commendable was not very wise.”

Brace started to shake his head in disbelief. “They’ll never know about that. How could they?” Aileron backed off before he answered. “Plenty of anonymous messages get passed out of this place. I wouldn’t be surprised if that little nugget managed to slip by.” “You slimy piece of worthless slag! You won’t get away with this! When I get my hands on you you’re dead! Do you hear me, Aileron! When I get out of here you are dead!” Brace flew into a rage slamming both fists against the frame of the cell’s door as the guard looked on.

“If, Brace. If you get out.” Aileron turned and began to walk toward the exit but stopped to look over his shoulder. “Good bye, Brace. You paid well but you were an aft as a boss.” Without another word Aileron walked out of the block a series of profanities streaming out right behind him.

Garrus 9 – Rooftops

Not far from the warden, Whirl was doing what he did best…kill. Each trigger pull resulted in a smoldering mass of diaclones. The former Wrecker would have smiled; if he still had a face. Instead Whirl opted to vocalize his delight….loudly.

“BOOYAH!” Another series of weapons fire and then a moment of silence. “Oh! Yes! You owe me 50 shanix, Tripline!” Whirl looked back at the mech he had addressed who in turn eyed the officer with skepticism. “What?! You don’t believe me?!” The blue copter began to leave his post when the other ‘Bot finally nodded. “There. That’s better. You can pay me after I blow this one’s face off. And don’t try to weasel your way out of it by dying. I’ll just search through your compartments then sell off what’s left.”

Another diaclone terminated... a smoking pile of hot slag. Whirl was nuts, but he was a damn good soldier.

Then the sound of a little nobody caught Whirl’s attention long enough to make him look toward the little mech. From him the copter-bot looked up at exactly the same time Max did. The Steelhaven…on a collision course…with the prison. “Now that’s cool.”

He lowered his head and looked to Max who had ordered everyone to evacuate the area. From the warden Whirl looked back up at the incoming Steelhaven. “Clear the area? I say we ride the wave of debris.” Whirl’s wish went unheeded when the Autobot ship made landfall touching down clear of Maximus and his men’s location. “Well, that certainly sucked slag.” Whirl mumbled.

The sudden sound of a mech's voice coming over the radio instantly caught Whirl’s attention. He knew him…always wished he was dead…and listened. “Hardline. Guy’s an aft. ‘Cons shouldn’t get to him before me.” As Max stalked off to the roof access doors, Whirl shrugged and followed close behind.

Garrus 9 - Within the Outer Walls

Snaptrap easily cleaved through his next few victims, their energon drenching him at this point, dripping off of every surface. He grabbed the next foe's head and drew him near, crushing his cranium in his iron grip as he did. The already dead guard's body served as a shield against the oncoming volley of gunfire. The corpse shook and twitched as the rounds racked its frail form. Snapping off with a metallic pop, the guard's head was sent careening into the nearest foe, smashing into their faceplate with a heavy clang.

The Seacon commander heard Tentakil shout and turned to see a missile incoming. He transformed and rotated his guns about to aim at it. He fired several shells off, one after another after another. A few missed, but one connected. The missile only needed one to explode in a massive conflagration of fire and molten metal.

The roar of the blast momentarily overrode the din and clamor of the battlefield, adding to the cacophony in a violent cresendo before dying out to the sound of Autobots screaming. Music to Snaptrap's audio receptors. He gunned down a squad of charging Autobots and blasted apart a barricade before reverting back to his robot form. Snaptrap took a moment to survey the battlefield. Most of the guards that had been caught between the walls were either no longer functioning or had retreated into the fortress of a prison. Still the insecticons had not managed to eat through the first wall. Useless.

Garrus's walls still held strong with the distant figure of Fortress Maximus standing atop the roofs of one of the distant buildings. The sky was alive with fire and- What was that? The Seacon Commander watched warily as the Autobot's ship, the Steelhaven, began to fall out of the sky. It dove through the hail of flash and smoke toward Garrus 9. Toward...the southernmost wing of the penitentiary. Whether this was purposeful or accidental, Snaptrap knew not and cared less. He would use it to his advantage.

"Seacons, to me!" Snaptrap roared over the din of battle.

The Steelhaven crashed glancingly off of the southernmost wing. A deep rumble reverberated and made the very ground tremble and quake. Unfortunately, this was not enough to destroy the prison walls competely. Nothing was ever easy. Nevertheless, that area was now a weakness to be exploited.

"To the Steelhaven, Seacons. Find a way inside Garrus 9," Snaptrap ordered as he charged forward.

------

Garrus 9 - Cell Block B

Umbra backed away from the door and stood in the center of her cell. This was incredibly...unfortunate. She couldn't exactly fight back, lest he turn his weapons on her. He could blast a hole in her very easily. However, it seemed like he was deadset on drawing this out slowly and painfully. Part of her wondered whether she should just let him have his way. Be done with this pain-filled existence. It would be easy to just give in now. Stop fighting. End it.

Thwack!

Mandate's vicious backhand connected. Pain. The floor. Energon. Hers by the look. That hulking guard. Smiling. Smiling. At her anguish. Her suffering. Nearly defenseless. And he smiled. Still is smiling. Umbra coughed up a wad of energon. It splattered on the interior of her faceguard and dripped down slowly to join the other droplets of her energon collecting on the floor.

Emotions began to filter through the initial shock. The seed of anger lodged in her spark that had wrapped its fledgling roots around her suddenly blossomed in an instant. Its painful thorns released their grip on her after so long and found a new object to lash onto. Anger transformed into a wintry, unrelenting hatred. Pure and utter loathing as she had never felt before coarsed through her.

Trembling, Umbra rose to her feet. Let him mistake it for fear. Let him jeer and cajole. Laugh. While he still could. She would rip out his vocal processor. No. Rip out his spark and shove it back in his face. Watch as he saw the life draining from him. And the last image he would see would be her. Smiling.

Before either she or Mandate could make another move, the prison suddenly tremored, violent and brutal. The walls of her cell abruptly buckled and crumpled as a large, rather lethal beam speared through the center of her cell. The front of her cell facing the block disappeared as a falling piece of debris utterly decimated it and continued to careen downward, through the other decks.

Umbra had pressed up against the side wall tightly, crouched down and shielding herself feebly with her arms. As the debris settled and dust began to fall on her small frame, Umbra straightened to see the ruined wreck of a room that had used to be her cell. That, however, wasn't her primary concern. Umbra frantically cast her optics about for the whereabouts of her ruthless tormentor.

------

Semper Tyrannis - Hangar

Scorponok was in fine form. Well, Treadshot supposed that was to be expected. It wasn't everyday that you led an assault on Garrus 9 penitentiary. Catgut uttered a low, eager growl. Treadshot stroked his companion as Scorponok began to speak. Cyclonus's fate was met with strength by the gargantuan commander. As if there were another way to meet it. The Autobots would pay and pay dearly for each Decepticon life lost today. Hundredfold.

The portal into the depths of the Autobot prison opened. Decepticons began to charge into it, no doubt wrecking havoc on all those unfortunate to cross their path. Treadshot figured he ought to throw his lot into the mix. Charging forward with the rest, the gunslinger and his companion leaped through the portal and into the unknown.

They were greeted by a scene of death and chaos. Excellent. Treadshot pressed the charge, opening fire on all in his way. Each was met with one bullet. One bullet for one kill. Catgut shot ahead, lashing out at those unlucky enough to still be alive. He raked them with claws and fang. It did little damage, but it did leave them distracted and vulnerable while Treadshot capitalized on their distraction.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Primus, he loved his job.

Garrus 9 - Cell Block B

It took every ounce of self-control Stingray could muster not to tear and hammer at the door of her cell in anger. This Regulator chap had a little stiffness in the central processing unit compartment.

'What do you think?' Stingray said. 'They'll slag me if they find me. I'm a deserter or whatever the scrap you want to call it... My former sergeant shot me in the chest-sec and if he's with this force, I'm as good as done for. Busted. Wrecked. Piston-screwed. Slagged. Slowly and painfully for their amusement.'

She sagged down by the cell door, strength evaporating from her limbs. Whatever slight chance she may have had for slipping away from a gruesome end seemed to have just vanished.

'They're not my friends. Don't know if they ever were,' she realized as she said it. 'I'm just a sucker who ended up on the wrong side... heh, if there's even a right side in this mess.'

She buried her face in one of her palms. Cleaning fluid streaked from her optics down her wrist and forearm.

The din of battle just a few blocks away intensified. Echoing zap-snaps of laser weapons. Explosions reverberating in the confined spaces of the prison complex, sending tremors through the walls and floor. Screams of agony and death. Stingray noticed only now how much she didn't ever want to hear this hideous cacophony again.

'There, you have it. Satisfied? Yeah, why should you even care? I'm just a Con, right? I deserve to burn. Maybe you should just call that sick bastard slagger Mandate over and laugh at me together. While you still can, that is.'

Semper Tyrannis – Hangar

Iguanus couldn't decide whether the Terrorcons were a bunch of clowns advertising themselves as a near limitless source of entertainment, or a pack of horrific killers not even the worse nightmare could conjure up. With Cutthroat's most recent tantrum on display for all to see, however, he leaned towards the former of his suspicions.

But whatever. Let them act as the lowly beasts that they were. As long as the Terrorcons stayed out of Iguanus's way, somewhere far, far away where he couldn't be mistaken for a tasty-looking Autobot and gobbled down in two astroseconds flat owing to idiocy and poor optic sight, they could be as barbaric as they liked.

It was hard to believe that beyond the space bridge portal lay the Garrus-9 penitentiary. To assault such a location spoke of supreme levels of confidence so high they graced the realm of arrogance that sat smugly among the clouds.

Iguanus smiled, exposing fangs as white as they were razor-sharp. This was it. They were doomed.

The unexpected attack had very likely cultivated terror and confusion within the Autobot ranks, stealing from them the efficient response needed to repel the invaders. And there certainly wasn't any reason for the Autobots to go hunting for scraps of courage so they could properly fight back. No, of course not. That was when Iguanus and his comrades came into it: supporting the element of surprise with overwhelming strength and firepower, obliterating all who opposed them.

That, and apparently freeing their imprisoned brothers. He would do well to remember that part of the plan while he had his fun.

Relishing the notion of feeding on the Autobots' main course of fear and panic right before being served exquisite desserts consisting of vital fluids and slaughtering, Iguanus strode towards the portal and passed through it. A handsome killer of his calibre should always be entitled to at least that much.

Garrus-9, Southern Wing--Steelhaven Breach Point

Wailing of the wounded and dying. Screams for help by those buried under the fallen debris. Survivors looking for their missing friends and co-workers. Everywhere and at once. A pandemonium of noise filling the interior of Garrus-9's southern wing. Or rather, what was left standing after it had been hit by a billions of tons worth of top of the line Autobot engineering in form of a spear shaped spaceship. Spaceship that was now jutting in the southern wing of the massive penitentiary complex like an arrow through a shoulder.

"Drainor! Over here!" One of the prison guards, an Autobot known as Scroller beckoned his partner. The two guards had been lucky enough to survive Steelhaven's crash without much more than few scratches. Too bad so many others didn't seem to have been as lucky. A fact that Drainor made rather clear in his reply to Scroller.

"What?! Can't you see that I have my hands full?! We have more wounded than our medical bay can handle! And Armor Aid is not responding to my calls!"

Scroller however, seemed to be able to ignore Drainor's complaint, for the enormous spaceship had his undivided attention. "Its ours Drainor! It is the Steelhaven!"

"By Primus... how?!" To say Drainor was shocked, would have been an understatement. The likelihood of a battleship ramming the prison complex was more or less ludicrous. The fact that the ship that had destroyed a good portion of the prison wing was their own was even bigger piece to swallow.

"Not the slightest idea but its ours! We have to get in, there's no telling how many survived that crash! We can pool our resources and - ! Do you see that?! There's a breach in the hull!" Scroller shouted back at Drainor and began climbing a pile of debris towards the opening he had spotted. "Help me to clear this rubble!"

Drainor did his best to catch up his partner after deciding he simply lacked the skills to help the wounded any more than he already had. Scroller though, had taken quite a head start. What he did find before his optics once he caught up with Scroller made the older guard stop on his tracks. He had seen this before. This breach in Steelhaven's hull - it was clearly work of a Decepticon boarding tube. "Scroller! Wait! That's no battle damage... those marks... get the slag out of that opening! Those are cutting marks!"

"What?! I -" Scroller, who was already half through the opening stuttered - only to find himself staring at three pairs of blazing red optics in the darkness before him. Before the young guard was able to gather his bearings, he was already under a vicious attack.

"Aaieeeee!!"

The agony filled scream of his partner evoked Drainor to call Scroller's name as he began backing down. There was simply no way he'd rush in blindly only to be gunned down by Decepticons. He had to work smarter than that. "Scroller!"

Scroller however, did not answer. A bestial voice did though. It was a chilling roar that made Drainor's fuel pump to skip a beat. A chilling roar accompanied by sound of metal being mauled, shred and devoured.

"No... Not you!" Drainor gasped as he began stumbling backwards. He had recognized the voice. He had heard it before. And he wanted no part of it.

>>"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!"<<

((OOC: Well now. Seems I had time to spare to get this one done tonight))


Garrus 9 - Cell Block B

He wasn’t a soldier. He wasn’t any kind of frontline warrior. No. Regulator was a desk jockey plain and simple. He sat at a terminal all day just watching video feeds. The job would never get him any kind of promotion nor would he get any kind of recognition. But that suited him just fine. It always had.

The thing was, Regulator liked his boring life, but this, what was happening now was something he never signed up for.

Regulator rose up slightly on the tips of his boots and cast his optics, as best he could, down on Stingray who had sunk down to the floor. The Autobot listened. Just listened. He’d never really met a ‘Con before but he had heard plenty of horror stories from the others who had. They swapped stories on just how homicidal and crazy they all were. That they’d sooner tear your head off and shove it up your tailpipe than talk to you.

This ‘Con, this femme, wasn’t anything like what he’d heard. She was scared, of her own kind. Regulator watched for several moments longer and then slowly stepped away from the door.

He never answered her last series of questions, instead he let the sound of the click and slide of the cell door do the talking for him. Regulator stepped into the cell and stopped in front of the kneeling femme. He watched her for a minute before he lowered down into a crouch and held his hand out to Stingray.

“I’d never subject anyone to that sick fragger’s idea of a good time. I’ve been on the receiving end of one of his tirades. I know what he’s like.” Regulator said with a small smile. “You can call me Reg. Just not in front of anyone else, okay?”

Garrus 9 – Cell Block M

“Down here!” The yell came from a small guard who was followed closely by a much larger mech. To get to their destination they had to jog, jump and weave through piles of debris and even a few dead bodies. Neither one paused, however.

“Tapper! You never told me where we were headed!” Spree called out to the ‘Bot in the lead. There was silence, save for the heavy footfalls from both as they jumped over another pile of shattered bits of building. Spree growled in frustration when he didn’t receive an answer. “Tap…” “We’re going to Block M! Aileron wants to make sure everything’s okay down there. He never got a response from the mechs on duty! Now come on!”

Spree slowed his pace until he nearly came to a complete stop. “Block M?” He whispered to himself. That’s where that crazed Monstercon was locked up. What if he was loose and wandering the area? What if he was dead? Spree perked up at that thought before he started back out in Tapper’s wake. Primus forbid Wildfly found him. If he was even alive.

“Would you come on! I can see a breach in the Block! There has to be one of ours in there! Hopefully more!” The smaller guard stopped in front of a chunk of steel and rock and began moving the rubble with his bare hands. Spree finally stepped up but paused, his optics looking through the small gap between the wreckage. “Tapper, wait…” he said as he grabbed the other mech’s wrist. “If there are ‘Cons loose in there then it’s probably best if we leave them. It’ll take them a while to dig themselves out and when they do we can be waiting for them…with a team to stop them.” Spree gave the other guard a desperate look. Tapper shook his head and narrowed his optics. “No way. If there’re ‘Bots in there we have to get to them. Now help me!” He renewed his effort one more time but was quickly grabbed and tossed to the other side of the corridor.

“The slag do you think you’re doing Spree?!” The smaller mech stood up slowly with a scowl on his face. Spree stepped back and away from his fellow Autobot but at the same time drew his weapon. Tapper raised his hands and moved back giving the mech his space. “Whoa. Spree. Put the gun down and let’s talk about this. We can do that, right? Talk?” Tapper tried to calm the situation with words, but it seemed that his comrade had other ideas.

“I’m sorry, Tapper, but I can’t let you go in there. Now, please, just turn around and walk away.” The weapon in Spree’s hand shook as he waited for Tapper to do as he was told, but when the other remained in place the desperate guard screamed in anger. “AGHHH! Just get out of here! NOW! I don’t want to have to hurt you!”

The smaller mech shook his head and stepped forward, his hands still up. “I’m not going anywhere until I know the status of our guys back there. If you want to stop me you’re going to have to shoot me.”

BANG! BANG!

Two shots. Tapper was down. A small pool of energon growing beneath him.

Thud.

The gun hit the floor but to Spree it made no sound. The only thing he could hear was his own fuel pump. The only thing running through his mind; now he was safe. Now Wildfly could not get to him. A low groan from the downed mech. Tapper should have listened. Why didn’t he just listen?

Garrus 9 – Cell Block B

Such a satisfying sound. It always pleased him when a beating went so right. Mandate chuckled darkly as he watched the femme cough up a wad of energon letting its thick consistency drip to the floor beneath here. It looked good. The various splattered patterns of energon that marked her frame looked good on her. He’d just need to add a bit more to make her look perfect.

“You wear that well, femme. Heh.” Mandate placed both hands on his hips as he watched Umbra get back up onto her feet…albeit shakily. She was a glutton for punishment. But who was he to deny her?

The smile on his face slowly faded into a neutral expression. Ever so carefully Mandate raised his hands and began to approach his victim. The former police officer suddenly stopped when he felt the shaking and groaning of what felt like the entire prison. His optics scanned the ceiling as bits of dust started to drift down around him.

At the last possible moment Mandate jumped forward and further into the cell in order to avoid a hunk of metal from crushing his cranial unit.

Once he reached the far wall he pressed himself flat against the wall, his broad chest was scrapped and gouged as pieces of the building began to rain down around him.

As the dust finally settled and the facility stopped shaking Mandate pushed away from the wall and looked around the small confines of the cell. There was a narrow hole where the door used to be. Large enough, maybe for the prisoner to escape, unless he got lucky and she wound up crushed beneath the rubble.

A glow. Could that be… “No.” He growled out. In a flash Mandate had hurdled a steel girder and began tossing pieces of waste to the aside in order to get to the prisoner. “Don’t think for a second that you’re gonna get off that easy, glitch! Your spark is still mine!” Mandate raised his arm and sent a quick series of jabs and a cross right to Umbra’s face.

Garrus 9 - Cell Block B

The locking mechanism clattered and released. Stingray stiffened and her cranium snapped up. Regulator stepped inside and crouched down beside her, actuator held out.

An instinct blitzed through Stingray's central processing unit. An instinct drilled into her hard and heavy so many vorns back. Rush him. Pummel him. Break his neck. Search the body for weapons. Access cards. Comm devices. Escape.

But it was wrong. It was a Decepticon instinct. And she was no longer a Decepticon, badge be damned. It took a brief moment of concentration, one during she did nothing but stare dumbfounded into Regulator's face, but she managed to suppress the impulse.

Maybe there was a right side in this mess.

I’d never subject anyone to that sick fragger’s idea of a good time. I’ve been on the receiving end of one of his tirades. I know what he’s like.

That 'maybe' in her previous thought faded to 'not sure'. She could understand a guard rough-handling the prisoners, the perceived enemies, but each other...? From where she stood, not that huge a difference from Cons.

You can call me Reg. Just not in front of anyone else, okay?

'Stingray,' nodded the femme as she took the proffered actuator. 'So, just like that? You pop the cage open and we skitter out?'

Semper Tyrannis - Brig

Brainstorm shifted his attention from his pointless escape plan to his aching actuators. The weapons maker missed his workshop aboard The Guardian , he missed tinkering and improving his latest gadgets. He remembered how he was working on his latest project; improving Ironfist’s design of the cerebral bullet. He was close too, but got sidetracked on his other project; the Galaxium Dimension Ripper, a six-barreled, plasma battery-powered, chain-fed mini-gun of pure destruction.

“Damn thing wouldn’t feed properly…” Brainstorm recalled in a mumbled breath to himself. “Perceptor said it was because I didn’t align the feeder to the barrel intake properly, but my calculations were precise to the 7092nd degree!” Brainstorm looked back at his empty hands, aching from not being used for anything useful. He laid his head back against the cell wall, staring up at the ceiling. He closed his optics and tried to focus on something besides his lab work, hoping it would relieve the pain in his actuators.

The damn 7092nd degree…

Steelhaven – Bridge

Banzai-tron slowly rose from the crash the Autobot vessel just nosedived into. Smoldering chunks of metal slipped off his back as he tried to stand up properly. His optics tried to adjust to the dim lighting, but all he could see was a cloud of smoke and dust that blanketed the air of what used to be the bridge of the Decepticon-controlled vessel.

“Cyclonus!” The intelligence officer managed to usher out through a wheezing tone, “Anyone still functional?” Banzai-tron still couldn’t make out anything through the smoke and debris as he scanned his attention across the wreckage of the ship.

The intelligence officer walked over to the wall of the scorching ship and sat against it. He reached over and pried the blaster from the lifeless actuators of what used to be an Autobot’s arm. He held the weapon close and leaned his head back against the wall.

“C’mon Autobots…Come find me…”

Outside Outer Walls

Seawing continued his barrage of laser fire, his blasters spewing the deadly venom lasers Seawing was known for using. The Autobots he managed to hit were quickly stunned and left for the other Decepticons to finish off.

“Seacons, to me!” Seawing heard his commanding officer order over the roar of the battle.

“Snaptrap survived?” Seawing asked himself as he noticed Snaptrap’s silhouette off in the distance. His latest plan to take command of the Seacons would have wait, not with Snaptrap still functional. He made his way towards the Seacon’s commander, continuing to stun Autobots for his team to pick off. Snaptrap gave off another order, this time to make their way towards the wreckage of the Steelhaven.

“We would already be inside the walls of the prison if I were in command.” Seawing mumbled to himself. “Why bother with the Autobot vessel, no one could of survived THAT large of an impact.”

Garrus-9 – Within the Outer Walls

Thanks to a stroke of luck as absurd as it was impossible, Nautilator had bumped off the pair of guards that had spotted him the moment he had touched down on Elba's surface. Somehow. He didn't know how. Just somehow.

Anyway, no time could be spent on celebrating his victory. Guards, guards and more guards made that rather difficult.

So, like before—because in all honesty, Nautilator's skills as a warrior were as useless as Slag's social skills—he relied upon additional strokes of luck to get him through. A terrible idea, but more productive than trying to fight these oil stains.

Nautilator knew how that would end up...

Bad. Very bad. For him, of course.

Yet Nautilator still functioned. Ducking, dodging, diving, and defending himself when necessary proved enough to separate him from the dead that littered the outer walls of Garrus-9. The mystery of this would have fascinated him had it not been for the thousand shots that missed him by the barest of margins.

And despite all that attention, he was still alive. Somehow. He didn't know how. Just somehow.

One of these days, he'd learn to be a superb warrior. Maybe Seawing or Tentakil could teach him a thing or two.

“To the Steelhaven, Seacons. Find a way inside Garrus-9.”

Until then, though, he hoped he would survive long enough to reach that day.

Running as if a group of ravenous Mecannibals were behind him, Nautilator sprinted, arms pumping, and headed towards the Steelhaven as per Snaptrap's orders.

Garrus 9 – Cell Block B

When Stingray placed her hand into Regulator’s, the Autobot gently pulled the femme up with him into a full and upright standing position. He wasn’t at all surprised by her question or the uncertainty that was laced with it. She was a Decepticon prisoner who was just released by a-nobody-pencil-pusher-Autobot…he’d be skeptical too that something was amiss.

Regulator stared at her for a moment trying to think of something to say that would properly explain his actions…nothing sounded believable even in his own head. So instead of the logical he opted for what he felt in his spark. “I’m not going to live to see the sun rise tomorrow. I know that already. I figured why not, for once, do something my spark told me was right.” He shrugged deeply and let out a heavy sigh.

After a moment Regulator realized he was still holding Stingray’s hand and quickly released it. With a nervous chuckle he placed it behind his head and rubbed the back of his neck lightly. “Uh, well. We really should get out of here.” Regulator looked over his shoulder to the open cell door and back to Stingray. “Our best bet is to head to Maximum Security. It’s the safest place on this rock.” He said and followed it up with an uneasy smile.

Garrus 9 - Cell Block B

I’m not going to live to see the sun rise tomorrow. I know that already. I figured why not, for once, do something my spark told me was right.

That sounded... awfully awkward. If Stingray hadn't sifted through so many philosophical and literal works during her incarceration at Garrus and gotten used to such emotinal phrases, she might as well have cringed. She understood what Regulator meant, or at least she imagined so, but... nevermind. A way to get out of here opened, that was all that mattered.

Uh, well. We really should get out of here.

She nodded.

Stingray leaned out the cell door Regulator opened for her and took a look around. The enitre section lay even more in ruins than it seemed through the vision slit. Chaff, shorn debris, broken girders and burned chunks of plating littered the throaty corridors. Small fires danced on torn pipes. Smoke and escaping vapors lingered in couds.

Some of that rebellious nature of hers, that had drove her to join the Decepticons all those vorns ago, appeared to have remained.

Our best bet is to head to Maximum Security. It’s the safest place on this rock.

'No,' she snapped. She couldn't help it, but a measure of her one-time rebellious nature, that spurned her to eventually join the Decepticons seemed to have remained. Step out of a cell and immediately go to another? No way. She could see that Regulator and Autobots in general were like an entirely different race of beings from Decepticons, but she just had enough of being pushed around and judged by others.

That and the utter certainty with which she knew there was no protection anyone or anything could offer in the face of a full-scale Decepticon assault.

She sighed and forced her voice to calm. For whatever it was worth, she didn't want to hurt her newfound, if a bit clumsy, savior.

'Look... Reg. If you're serious about letting me out, I thank you. But I have no intention of staying here. And nor should you.'

Stingray pointed upwards, at the jagged wound ripped into the ceiling. Through which stars in the sky flickered.

'You seriously think maximum security will be enough to protect you from something that did this? You don't know these guys. I'm guessing you've never even seen one that wasn't locked up. They're gonna come in here and murder every single one not of their own. Murder or worse. You can't hide from them.'

The way her optics glinted, it was clear Stingray wasn't joking.

'Our only chance is to get as far away from this place as we can. Find a shuttle. A transport. Whatever. Just off this mudball.'

She groaned and started scratching at her back. Her digits scraped at that bothersome device she detested so much but realized she still had attached.

'But first I'm gonna need this transformation inhibitor removed,' she hissed, angrily. 'And we're gonna need guns, too.'



Outside The Walls

'You're and idiot, Seawing,' Overbite remarked flatly as he suddenly appeared beside his squadmate. He used to do that. Pop up when no one noticed and sow chaos. A good hunter was, amongst other things, a master of the element of surprise. 'And that's precisely why you're not in command.'

His freeze-gun came up and blasted an Autobot just about to take aim at them from outside Seawing's field of vision. The absolute zero shell hit the unfortunate mech in the midriff and exploded, coating him in an ice-like substance and freezing him midstep.

'You need to chill out,' Overbite told the mech-made-statue as he walked him past and smashed the butt of his gun against his cranium. Metal rendered brittle by the extreme temperature cracked and burst apart into a myriad tiny, sparkling fragments. The unduly decaptitated mech collapsed and his body shattered into frozen specks.

'The Steelhaven just ploughed into the damn prison,' Overbite turned back to Seawing to finish the thought. 'It ought to have popped us an entry into the walls. That's why we're converging on it. Tactical awareness instead of basking in... whatever it is you think you possess but you don't?'

Again, Overbite took aim and decommissioned scattered, disoriented Autobots with precise shots. Only he didn't bother smashing them to pieces, he just left them frozen. They were a pitiful, sorry sight. No cohesion, no discipline, only fumbling attempts at return fire. He couldn't blame them, though. They weren't a proper fighting force to begin with but having a starship fall on your cranium... well, that would have knocked out even the most battle-weathered Con, too. No question.

He closed on the crash site. More targets. Resistance seemed to be fiercer here. Taking up cover he zoomed in on the smoldering wreck of the Steelhaven. The ship practically furrowed itself into one of the prison wings. Metal groaned. Deeply, agonizingly. Maybe the ship wanted to keel over but couldn't.

Laser fire lit up its side, where the walls could not hold against the pressure and crumbled under the immense weight of the starboard hull.

>> 'Boss, I think I see our breach point, << Overbite transmitted to Snaptrap through the squad comm-link. >> ... and I also see weapons fire. Some of ours may already be inside. Probably from aboard the ship. <<

Garrus-9 – block b

To say Spiral’s day had gone bad was an understatement first he’d managed to lose a wager regarding who would be first in the inter wing races. Then he’d found his rifle malfunctioning the green and grey flyer sighed miserably as he checked and rechecked the linkages to the power cell. “thing seems to be working alright n... ack” Spiral didn’t get chance to finish his musing as his head was violently spun around by a pair of green hands snapping the linkages to his vocal’s comm gear and all his motor controls. Greeting the Autobot’s failing optics was the seemingly haunting figure of Bludgeon a film of white dust blew off him as he pushed Spiral’s body to the floor. The electric warrior caught the body and gently lowered it to the ground being careful not to let it make a loud bang that would bring more unwelcome attention.

The decepticon was soon on the move again scooping up the fallen rifle ‘anything’s better than nothing’ the decepticon mused as he continued forward the damage seemed to be greater in b block. He stayed in the shadows as he slid from cover to cover if the autobot guards where still on the scene he didn't need their attention not in his current state. The answer came in the form of an autobot and a decepticon femme that appeared from a cell above him he didn’t know either and was content to leave them alone if they returned the gesture. However as he continued to move along the walkway a voice was heard not raised beyond any kind of reason but a voice that was being raised in disbelief.

This was followed by rubble being tossed around added to the general sounds of power conduits sparking, coolant lines venting into the area. He stopped as he witnessed an autobot of all things digging through rubble he had no idea what Mandate was looking for but seconds later he was muttering something and then launching a furious attack on whatever he’d found ‘if it was a decepticon well’ bludgeon’s thought brought a rare smile to his face which faded as he spoke just loud enough to be heard.

“Hey autobot pick on someone still standing”

Garrus-9 – Outer Walls

“Oh Primus the pain please someone I got winged help me!” Tentakill’s yell cut through the din of battle easily. An autobot medic rushed to his aid Tentakill looked at the mech’s face as he started to look him over some minor energon leaking from a wound on his shoulder. “They forced me into this war I didn’t want to fight it’s too much you have to understand they are all monsters”. Tentakill didn’t know if he was laying it on too thick with the pretence but it seemed this medic was fresh off the assembly line he started to come close to the Seacon too close as the Seacon‘s resident demolitions expert punched the head clean off the medic with a swift right hook. Upon the loss of its head the unnamed Autobot’s body fell to the floor a malicious grin plastered across his face. “Ah the Hippocratic oath of medics well can you Heal thy self physician” mused Tentakill as a voice rose above the din.

“Seacons to Me” the order roared by Snaptrap was preceded by the starship Steelhaven ploughing into the prison. “On my way” Tentakil looked at the ruined autobot and fired a blast from his slime cannon “stick around” he smirked as he started moving across the battlefield heading for the Steelhaven as per the second command from the imposing Seacon commander Tentakill looked around the dolt Nautilator was sprinting forward like his life depended on it off to his right. ‘Well it does sort of’ thought Tentakil as he followed at a more leisurely pace picking his way through available cover heading for the Steelhaven’s crash site.

Garrus 9 - Outside the Walls

> 'Boss, I think I see our breach point ... and I also see weapons fire. Some of ours may already be inside. Probably from aboard the ship. <<

Snaptrap converged on Overbite and Seawing's location after receiving the hunter's message, stepping up behind the two. He scanned the area to ascertain the location of the rest of the squad. Nautilator was dancing about as he sprinted through the hail of gunfire. Practically useless in combat except as a distraction. One which Tentakil happened to be capitalizing on.

"Excellent," Snaptrap said by way of approval to Overbite - the remark being the closest the Seacon commander ever came to an actual compliment.

Striding forward to the crumbled walls on the starboard side of the hull, the butcher of the bogs noted a crevice just big enough for a small cybertronian to fit through where the flash and bang of laser fire filtered out. Snaptrap did not happen to be a small cybertronian. Transforming into his beast mode, he swiveled his cannons about to face the breach and fired. Reverting back into his robot form, the Seacon commander stepped through the haze of dust and smoke into the breach...and into Garrus 9, knowing that the rest of the Seacons would follow swiftly behind him.

Those that awaited inside...would know only unrelenting pain.

-----

Garrus 9 - Cell Block B

It did not take long for Mandate to make his presence known. Umbra's head whipped around to look in the direction of the sound of his voice. There he was. The femme's cerulean optics locked onto him as he began to dash towards her. Her first instinct was to get away, but with the wall to her back and the amount of waste surrounding her, escape would be no swift matter.

Her second instinct was self-preservation. She backed away as much as she could from her current position as Mandate lunged for her, bellowing his hatred. His jabs hit her squarely in the jaw before she could do anything about it. Raising an arm up, Umbra ducked to the side as she managed to deflect Mandate's cross.

Vorns of training at close quarters combat rushed to the fore once more, memory taking over before anything else could even register. Umbra snatched at Mandate's extended arm. Twist it around. Hard. Move in. Raise the arm up. Strike with the elbow on the joint. Should disarm. Literally. In this case. It had been a long time since Umbra had been in combat. She was slower than she used to be. She did not have the added benefit of her blades. She only prayed that this would do something.

Umbra wanted to survive. Dearly. In the past, living or dying hadn't seemed to matter. She had fought for Cybertron. Something worth dying for. She had lost that. And she would not perish because of this...sick spawn of Unicron. Not at his hands. Not if she could help it.

((OOC: Not ignoring you Phaze. Umbra's just a mite preoccupied at the moment.))

Garrus-9 – Outside the Walls

One limb threw itself in front of the other, while the other hurled itself forward to keep ahead of its competitor. But it did little good, as both limbs appeared to be evenly matched. And although this continued for some time, neither of them gained the advantage. Just as well.

If Nautilator's co-ordination betrayed him now, if he became one with the ground, it would be all over. The 'Bots would then swarm him and he would stay on the ground with a permanence he much preferred to avoid. Done. Finished. Kaput. Bye-bye.

Here he was, sprinting to the breach in the Steelhaven with the grace of a mechanoid influenced by too much high-grade. There Tentakil was, charming up a storm, and singing and bringing death to the Autobots. And there Seawing, Overbite and Snaptrap were, already at the breach point, ready to enter—

No, wait. They just went in.

So much for trying to be punctual. Nautilator supposed, despite the multitude of laser fire eager to take his face-plate off and then some, that he better get a wriggle on.

The starboard side of the ship's hull came into view. His destination. A fourth place podium awaited him if he got there soon.

He might not beat Tentakil to it, a fact that irked him when he thought about it, but he would sure as the Pit beat Skalor, wherever he was. And that would be satisfying, considering that he would not be the last Seacon in.

Nautilator's optics latched on to the crevice—which Snaptrap had turned into a giant hole. A hole so big Nautilator could easily slip though without any miscalculations resulting in pain owing to his atrocious judgement.

“C'mon, c'mon... Almost there...”

Garrus 9 - Breach Point

That was what Overbite liked about his squadron leader. No-nonesense, just go in and tag, then bag anyone who got in his way. He followed suit with the deft, fluid motion of a trained professional, driven by predatory instinct.

Not exactly deft compared to his - and all the Seacons' - underwater abilities, but more than satisfactory under the current circumstances.

An Autobot rushed him from the shadows, brandishing some sort of makeshift close combat weapon. He must have taken up position for an ambush after the Steelhaven had crashed. Smart. The interior of the prison certainly gave the defenders considerable tactical advantage. Fallen slabs of metal, collapsed girders and piles of debris, broken, flickering lights and visibility hindered by the swirling dust meant ample cover and opportunity to mount and effective line of resistance. Overbite would probably have made use of these conditions too, were he among the Autobot force.

If he were, those miserable, stunted weaklings might have stood some vestige of chance.

He reacted without surprise and halted his attacker with a quick snap-shot to the pedals, freezing the mech to the ground. The Autobot lurched as he was forced to stop and would have stumbled to fall and kiss the metal beneath him, were his feet unrestrained. Before he could register what was happening at all, however, another shot from Overbite's weapon, blew off his face from point-blank range. The remainder of the mech's frame stayed upright, motionless, like some grotesque statue.

Overbite moved on, following in the wake of the best moving cover he had: Snaptrap. The hulking mech simply ploughed forward, cleaving and storming his way through the corridor, utterly unrelenting and impervious to nearly all incoming fire. Overbite only needed to watch out for not slipping on the pools of fluid Snaptrap's victims were left lying in as they twitched and moaned agonizingly in their final moments.

Garrus-9 Steelhaven breach

After bouncing around cover and barely avoiding a meeting with his maker from countless shots Tentakill made it to the gaping hole in the Steelhaven just in time to see his 3 compatriots disappear within the ship being lead by their hulking commander Snaptrap. Tentakill swung around looking out over the battlefield for the remaining Seacons he watched Nautilator with mild amusement as the cumbersome Seacon stumbled his way across the battlefield.

“See you inside I gotta get a grip on these autobots” he gave a small gesture like he’d shot at Nautilator with his thumb and forefinger then vanished within the hull of Steelhaven. Chuckling at the destruction within he knew that finding Snaptrap and the others wouldn’t be hard he’d just follow the trail of corpses.

Garrus 9 – Cell Block B

Icepick had paid little attention to the Autobot guard threatening him. It was part and parcel of what some of them felt they had to do in order to maintain order in this prison. Let the Autobot do what he would. Anything short of full death would ensure the Monstercon had an opportunity to return the favor at a later date, because he knew there was something going on that was bigger than all of them.

A flash in Icepick's mind, a monstrously grotesque, metallic face. Gone as quickly as it had appeared.

Icepick stood still in his cell, even as everything rumbled around him. It had felt like their entire cell block was suddenly under direct assault and that the prison itself was now collapsing on itself. It wasn't of course, but there was no denying the impression.

The energy field separating Icepick from the guard had been deactivated: whether it was due to the guard's request to his colleague or from whatever was attacking them Icepick neither knew nor cared. As more of the cell block ceiling particles crumbled downward, crashing violently against the floor, it only seemed to make the ruckus amongst the prison population even more vehement. Icepick knew this sensation well. They were on the verge of a riot. Only their cells were keeping that urge at bay.

Except, they weren't.

Past the guard, Icepick could see that prisoners on some levels were beginning to shakily exit their cells. On others, the energy fields or metallic doors remained perfectly in tact.

The guard who was about to inflict some sort of mortal punishment on Icepick for his relatively minor taunting could now receive what was coming to him--more quickly than icepick had even imagined.

As the guard stepped back out of Icepick's cell, obviously trying to get a handle on what exactly was going on, two arms shot outward and forced him back inside, throwing him to the floor and straddling the guard before he even had a chance to react.

React he did, of course. The electrified stun rod in the guard's right hand was knocked clear before he could even get it up. Icepick leaned over guard, engaging his olfactory sensors and inhaling the microscopic particles that all sentient life exuded.

"W-what the slag, Icepick? I-I was just....y'know. I wasn't s-serious! It--"

"Shhhhhhh," Icepick said, putting a finger over the guard's vocalizer. "Shush now. I know you're lying to me. It's alright. On some level I forgive you. You fell into the same trap that many in power do. They feel it gives them a license to act like charred slag. That is....until they get the tables turned on them. Then their true colors come out. I see yours. And now you.......you get to see mine."

Icepick smiled pleasantly.

"I was never called a 'Monstercon' by accident."

As the next massive chunk of debris fell, a spark-splitting scream could be heard from Icepick's cell.
___

The Steelhaven--Bridge

Even with his magnetics engaged, the impact of the crash had thrown Cyclonus from one side of the bridge to the other, shattering the viewport and filling much of the bridge with debris and flames as damaged equipment sparked from nearly every accessible console.

There was a noticeable lag, but when Cyclonu's optics began feeding him new data once more, he was actually somewhat surprised. Though he had a plan in mind in case he survived the crash of the Autobot battleship, he had truthfully not expected to do so. The cause, it seemed, still had other plans for him.

His auditory sensors registered queries, both from Soul Siren, no doubt near Scorponok's side, as well as from Banzaitron, who was much closer in proximity. His answer to both of them would be the same.

>>"I still function,"<< Cyclonus said, transmitting the information to Soul Siren but also speaking loudly enough that Banzaitron would hear as well. Slowly pulling himself back to his feet, Cyclonus approached the wall where Banzaitron stood, weapon at the ready.

"No. We find them. Come. One way or another, we will find a way into Garrus from here."
___

Garrus 9-Southern Wing--Block B

Stormwrecked had stood with vocalizer wide open as it seemed like much of the cell block was rocked by Primus knows what. One moment he had been having a pretty casual exchange about Decepticon hierarchy and now.

Now what?

The energy field keeping him in his cell had started to flicker before fizzling out altogether. It hadn't happened to everyone, but it had happened to him.

And that was all that mattered.

Stormwrecker, like Vroom cautiously stumbled out of his cell, looking around at the damage. He looked up. The roof of the cell block was still in tact, but it definitely looked the worse for wear. A lot worse.

"Had to've been a bomb. Big one. Do somethin' like this? Big guns are comin'," Stormwrecker said, looking up at other various cell levels and seeing what both the inmates and guards were both doing about the sudden change.
___

The Semper Tyrannis–Hangar

With Scorponok's words and deeds, Mindwipe could not help but feel a swelling of pride for both the cause he served and the badge he wore. Serving within the 2nd Expansion Fleet had filled him with a pride in the cause that he had only intermittently felt since the earliest days of the war. Today--for certain--was a good day.

He turned to listen as Cipher spoke, nodding in agreement.

"That should be plenty. I guess we won't know until we get in there and see what we're working with. I'm sure we can siphon as the need arises."

Mindwipe ran an additional weapons and energy levels diagnostic just to be sure everything was in prime working order. As Cipher made dismissive reference to the little scout that they had acquired on Lv-117, Mindwipe smirked. He had actually been planning to keep him close by at one time. But as of late, he seemed to be causing more trouble than he was worth. Now, well, he had to see if the little proto was worthy of being presented to Scorponok for full recruitment to the Decepticon war machine. And there would be no better time to test his mettle than now.

"No. Not with us," Mindwipe said calmly, before approaching Wheelie, placing an arm around the proto's shoulder and guiding him toward the same portal that other Decepticons were continuing to spill through.

"My young friend, it is time. Bring us--bring our mighty lord Scorponok--an actual Autobot badge, ripped from the first one you see. Bring us this, and you will surely be granted membership amongst our ranks."

Mindwipe stood at the edge of the portal entrance with Wheelie, its bright glimmer reflecting wildly in Mindwipe's optics.

"Until then," he said at last, before shoving the proto through the portal and into whatever might await him on the other side. He then turned back to Cipher.

"We shall see what becomes of him now."

Steelhaven - Bridge

Banzai-tron could hear the pounding and cracking of shells bombarding the battlefield just outside the walls of the vessel. The hull of the ship seemed to have rocked momentarily, as if someone were breaching through into the hull.

The smoke began to clear out from the wreckage of the bridge as Banzai-tron took notice to Cyclonus' functionality. He made his way to the intelligence officer's location uo against the wall.

"No." He said in response to Banzai-tron's latest statement of waiting for the Autobots to find them, "We find them. Come. One way or another, we will find a way into Garrus from here."

Banzai-tron rose from the ground and readied his newly acquired weapon. He looked around and noticed a spot where the hull was punctured. He pointed out the entry to the Decepticon Commander.

"This way Cyclonus!" The mech exclaimed has he rushed through the crevice into the Autobot prison.