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LV-117--Surface/Shuttlecraft

Icepick had very gradually managed to pull himself together, mostly at the behest of Slog than anything else. He found a quiet corner of the shuttle and essentially melted into the floor.
___

Very shortly after the last Monstercon had boarded the designated shuttlecraft, a full medical unit began to board behind them with Mindwipe just a few further steps behind.

"The Mighty Megatron and Lord Commander Scorponok know you and your team have gone through a traumatic ordeal. It is this unit's job to see that you receive the finest physical and mental care the Second Expansion Fleet has to offer," Mindwipe said as he approached the Monstercon's unit leader, Slog.
___

“Heh, it’s just like old times!”

"Victory and plunder and spoils for vorns. Who knows what that old rattletrap has stuffed in here?!" Overbite chortled.
___

Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

“Aghaha! Another victory! Glory to the Decepticons! Aggh, that was worth it, heh. First Nebulos, then Garrus-9, and now LV-117! What a great day to be a Decepticon, eh Reflector?”

"Few better," Reflector agreed. "We come closer to the tyrannical peace than perhaps we've ever been."

Skyhammer had followed Fortress Maximus trail to his meeting with Scorponok. In his condition, it had been difficult to keep up with the much larger Autobot who had moved with a purpose but due to the whatever matters the Decepticons had been discussing about, Skyhammer had made it in time to get to listen to the exchange of words between Scorponok and the former warden of Garrus-9. Exchange that left Fortress Maximus silent for a while and Scorponok clearly fuming. It was as if both the Decepticon leader and Maximus had had more to say but both had kept themselves in line for reasons known only by the two behemoths.

"We are appreciative,"

Maximus had finally said. As if Skyhammer could have imagined him saying anything else without condemning all the Autobots he had so furiously fought for. Standing against Scorponok here, right now would have only invited more death. It was evidently from the glare the Decepticon leader shot at Maximus before turning away from the Autobot.

”Of course you are.” Scorponok had sneered, before addressing one of his men nearby.

”Banzai-Tron, have the Autobots escorted back to their cells.” The intimidating Decepticon warlord had commanded before marching off towards a portal that had opened near their position seemingly out of thin air.

Skyhammer could only stare at the portal in shocked disbelief. That had to be it. Sure, the Decepticons had had something else too to be able to get close enough to Garrus-9 without every Autobot this side of the galaxy being alerted there. But still, that technology, however Scorponok had got his claws on it – it had to be the reason how the Decepticons had managed to take Garrus-9 with such ease despite of its formidable defenses. He could only exchange a shocked look with his defeated Commander. Well, the remains of Skyhammer’s own face had been in a shock anyway.

Had that been it? Scorponok’s secret weapon? Was the Depecticon warlord now so certain of himself that he made no effort of keeping its use hidden? No. Fortress Maximus’ Autobots had likely seen it being used already and thus Scorponok had little reason to keep it secret anymore? Perhaps that was it. Not that it mattered anymore. Their fate had been out of their hands for a while now and the idea of mercy shown by the Slagmaker of Tarn did not exactly sound like something to look forward to.

”That’s… that’s how they did it?” He asked meekly from Fortress Maximus while staring after Scorponok who disappeared into the event horizon of the portal. ”You stood no chance… no one could have predicted a surprise attack with a… glitching miniature space bridge...”

LV-117 – Surface

Hun-Grrr wrote:”Powerrr?”

“Yes, master Hun-Grrr,” Rippersnapper said as the shark beast continued plodding along beside the two-headed razorbeast. “Power unlike anything I have ever imagined. It was glorious if not wholly my own. Together we hold a strength few will ever know. I just wished I could remember more of it.”

The former actor glanced back over his shoulder at what remained of Jhiaxus’ malformed beast before returning his attention to his commander. “We took part in bringing that grotesque thing down. The deep wounds we inflicted upon it are considerable, but I can’t really remember us doing it. Bits and pieces like I said before but that’s all. Perhaps over time we will be able to remember most if not everything that we do when combined. Perhaps we might even have some control over ourselves."

Stronghold

Seawing followed his fellow Seacons into the mountain to invade the inner stronghold of the scientist. He reflected on their victory as he walked around looking at all that was gathered around them.


"Taking down that monster was rather enjoyable and proved nothing can beat the combined might of the aquatic forces of the Deceticons. Now we get the fun of razing the crazy scientist layer. I do wonder what mess they had on the surface. With all of this around us, I wonder what Lord Scorponok will do with it all. Hopefully he will stay away from the cyborg monster we just took down."




Surface

Nosecone walked back out in the elements wishing he had destroyed the computer terminal they had found but he wasn't as reckless as Scattershot. Their commander would phrase it as being gutsy. Nosecone had wondered on many occasions how lucky they had been with some of the calls he had made but at the same time they had gotten out of some bad situations with those same ideas. As he continued to reflect the past, he led the Technobots towards the shuttles and back into imprisonment.

"I hope we can use what we learned from the scientist files to fix ourselves when we get free from the Cons. As much as I had detested some of Scattershot's schemes, he did get us out of some situations. I do wonder how he is doing since he never joined us."

LV-117--Surface/Shuttlecraft

Slog slowly took in his fellow Monstercons and their varying states. He’d been trying to be the leader they expected, but more importantly, deserved. And in his estimation, he had failed them terribly. Of the many things that had happened since he’d been selected, drafted, appointed, even accepted — whatever phrase worked best — he hadn’t done anything he didn’t regret.

Not that I had a choice in most of them, he thought, scoffing at the idea. It’d been so much easier being a simple soldier.

He rested his cranial unit against the wall of the shuttle and stared at the ceiling, allowing the various memories of what was and hopes of what would be to float through his processor.

Mindwipe wrote:"The Mighty Megatron and Lord Commander Scorponok know you and your team have gone through a traumatic ordeal. It is this unit's job to see that you receive the finest physical and mental care the Second Expansion Fleet has to offer."

Slag, we must look as dreadful as we feel. He pushed the thought aside, focusing on the Decepticon… therapist? speaking to him. Another mad scientist sent to pour through our emotional programming and rewire our logic circuits, no doubt.

Slog was prepared to refuse, as politely as possible, of course, but a sigh from one of his brothers caught his attention, forcing him to think the unthinkable: Would this logic-twister really be worse for us?

He hated the position this had put him in, but if it helped him and his fellow Monstercons recover from this ordeal, wasn’t it worth it? They had already been used as weapons against their collective wills, first by Jhiaxus and now by Scorponok, so was there really a point in fighting against this?

Taking in all the aspects of the offer, and what it could mean, he made the only choice he saw fit. “That is appreciated, Mindwipe. We have undergone a… unique experience and I accept any help you and your fellow mentalists can provide. The only thing I ask is that each of my fellows here be allowed to make the choice for themselves. And that their programming remains intact. I’m sure you can understand our feelings given what Jhiaxus has done to us.” He made sure not to mention Scorponok, but he doubted such a thing needed to be vocalized.

Over the threshold we stride, not to return as we were once known. Why that phrase came to him, he didn’t know, and he didn’t like it. But for his team’s benefit, he had to do something. He only hoped they would forgive him at some point.

Lost in his thoughts, Hun-Gurrr kept walking towards one of the many shuttles that had been sent down from the fleet orbiting LV-117 to recover the Decepticon fighting force that had brought Jhiaxus down to his knees after a gruesome battle that had not come without casualties. The Terrorcon leader did listen to his troops but what they had to say hardly satisfied the monstrous warrior.

”Then you have had a glimpse of my hungerrr,” he did growl out a reply to Blot’s shared insight. His hunger. Unsatiable. An all-consuming greed that took part in steering nearly all of his actions. And the other had felt it? Interesting but hardly useful.

Rippersnapper’s apologies and thoughts on the matter did little to list Hun-Grrr’s spirits. Of course he had felt it too. Power beyond even his own. But on the flip side, power denied from him. Power not under his direct control. What good was power without control?

”Perrrhaps.” Hun-Garrr snarled as he pulled himself into the shuttle closest to their position. He needed to find a way to shackle their monstrous combined form to his will. There had to be a way. At least a compromise until a better solution could be reached. A timer perhaps. At least that much Scorponok would be able to deliver, that he was certain of. Would he? Now, that has quite a different question.

[Jhiaxus’s Stronghold]

Skalor wrote:“Heh, it’s just like old times!”

“Hasn’t been this way in a long while, eh?”

While the other Seacons mused about, Tentakil unfurled his additional appendages. He had enough hands to carry a good amount of the equipment here, and so that is exactly what he did.

With a quick jab from one of his tentacles, he managed to dislodge and haul up a fairly hefty infodrive system of sorts. He used his hands to dismantle some of the other parts of the large computer, and his various arms crept in, seeking for valuables and discarding what wasn’t necessary.

When he was done, he made his way back to the entrance, where Octopunch was randomly grabbing things. He gave him a quick, light elbow to the side and flashed a smirk at him. “Don’t get your hopes up about that ion storm - for all we know, this planet’s rigged to have all sorts of mayhem.”

Snaptrap wrote:“Move.”

Upon Snaptrap’s command, the underwater demolitionist began making his way out of the stronghold. This job was done.

[LV-117 Surface - Near Fallen Chaosteros]

Ransack didn’t hesitate when he found himself at liberty to consume. In his insectoid mode, he went ahead and quickly devoured as much of the fallen goliath as he could. The insecticon commando had been waiting for a meal for quite a while. Seemed like this was the time.

He fluttered his wings briefly as he felt a tingling sensation, and then looked up. Yes, he thought to himself. This is it.

[LV-117 Skies - En route to Semper Tyrannis]

Weak and weary, wing badly damaged and hardly any energy left, Skyfall knocked on the hatch of the shuttle he was holding on to. It was going to be difficult, for sure, but he needed to get back inside somehow. Behind his visor, tired optics were searching for Bugly. He was following, but didn’t seem to want to kill him. At least, not for now.

He rapped his knuckles on the hatch of the shuttle, which prompted a seeker to pop his head out from underneath. “Hey, what’re you doing up there?! How did you- nevermind, just come inside.”

Skyfall tried to work against the wind, the clouds that were approaching and the gravity of the planet, but he managed to bring himself in. He landed flat on the floor, displacing a few of the others that were in here. It wasn’t the shuttle he had been on previously, but it’d take him to the same direction.

He got up and moved to the side, putting a palm on his face. A sigh of relief, then a realisation. Where’s Punch?

[LV-117 Mountainside]

Nightbird wrote:"Not as sorry as you will be."

Scrap. A kick from the femme pushed the Autobot backward, landing just close to Bomb-Burst’s feet. Great. Now it’s back to double teaming.

A part of Punch really wanted to make sure that he hadn’t taken that stab to the shoulder, because he could have rolled over and dodged Bomb-Burst’s grip on his torso.

Bomb-Burst wrote:"You should have acquiesced to Nightbird. As now you have to deal with me. And I am leaking and low on fuel... And you Autobots... Taste so good."

cAnNiBaLiStIc TrAsH. As Bomb-Burst reared his fangs, Punch’s optics glowed with a warm hue, different to his usual, cool blue. The vampire had grabbed his torso, but had left his arms free, so Punch(?) seized the moment to try and clock him across the jaw.

That was the point when Bludgeon interrupted.

See, the problem was that Punch could’ve probably held up against Bomb-Burst and Nightbird if he had a little more time and a little bit more… terrain advantage, to put into simple terms. Unfortunately, Bludgeon was a powerful commander - even taking him on his lonesome would be problematic for Punch, much less with his two cronies.

Yet the words that came out of Bludgeon’s vocaliser caught him off guard.

Bludgeon wrote:"Banzai-tron has asked we release the Autobot spy. Release him... With your customary tender mercies."

The brief moment of being lost in thought was all it took for Bomb-Burst to smack him in the face, and leave him against a tree. sLagGiT, pUnCh, YoU sHoUlD hAvE lEt Me TaKe CoNtRoL wHeN i ToLd YoU.

Bomb-Burst wrote:"Nightbird is my second in command. Harm her, and you deal to with me, as well as her wrath... And she doesn't forget her anger easily... Eventually... We will be coming for you, Punch."

He didn’t say anything. Not like he could, anyway. His vocal processor was damaged far too much, and anything he could say after this point would just be distorted, garbled nonsense.

Once they’d forgotten about him, he lifted himself up and walked into the forest. Banzaitron deserved a thanks, but that would have to wait. Punch found himself in the middle of the thick, cyberformed forest, and slumped against a tree. He was exhausted, physically and mentally. But he’d have to move on anyway.

He checked his inner diagnostics, to see how convincingly he could pull off being in his other mode. Luckily, the vast majority of the damage he’d taken was on his Punch form. The rest could be passed off as the average battle damage that everyone else also received.

Out of sight, out of mind.

He left the tree, making his way through the underbrush. Now was the time to get back to Banzaitron, and report on his findings. Despite the turn that the mission had taken, it had only happened for the better.

Counterpunch was going home.

LV 117- Shuttle in the sky

Wheelie had boarded the shuttle as he was told to do. He had little choice but to do as he was told. I mean, he could have run and hid on LV 117, but the planet was ruined beyond repair. There was no way he'd survive there with all that acid rain pouring down. The small Autobot had already sustained a good deal of damage to his exterior, not to mention one of his arms was still broken. Sure, Skyfall had rigged it to where it was somewhat operational, but proper repairs would be better.

"I'm really in need of some fuel, I hope the Decepticons won't be cruel.", Wheelie rhymed quietly as he walked weakly about the shuttle. He missed his friend Skyfall. He hadn't seen him board the ship. Last time he'd seen him, he'd flown away into the sky. Was he alright? Wheelie thought about their little "adventure" on LV-117. Wheelie had flown on his friend's alt-mode and fought the giant mechanized Chaosteros. It was horrible, sure, but it had been thrilling.

"It would be nice to find my friend again, on whom I know I can depend.", the small orange bot said. He carefully walked between various Decepticons who were giving him crude looks of disdain. It wasn't too long of trekking through the relatively small ship that Wheelie found the big red and white flier. It seemed he'd fallen in from the roof? Wheelie looked down with a puzzled face at his friend, but overcome with joy, the boy robot cried for joy and hugged his friend, saying, "You made it my friend, it's not yet the end! I'm so happy you're here, get up and come here!" He tapped on the much larger mech's shoulder, encouraging him to get up. He hoped he could...

LV117: Base of the Mountain

As Bludgeon silently watched Bomb Burst remind Punch that the Vampire was not one to be trifled with, he was going over what Scorponok had spoken just before he departed the Warlord's presence. Something stuck in his processor about it. Bludgeon considered Banzai-tron an inferior to himself, he would never be inclined to follow the orders of the head of the DSS. Bludgeon's strange sense of loyalty, or lack there of at times, made him difficult to understand (to put it politely).

He pushed these thoughts from his processor, though, as Punch slinked off into the forest. The Autobot spy was no longer his concern, and no one had to told him he was to ensure Punch made back it to Banzai-tron, just that they were not permitted to to hold him.

Scorponok probably should have requested they escort Punch to safety. Bludgeon allowed himself to internally smirk. It is, after all, nasty weather out there.

--

Nightbird watched as Punch made his exit.

The next time they will meet, it will be when things would be to her advantage.

Her optics drifted up to the looming presence that was (always) Bomb Burst. She got up, with a bit of struggled as she was not used to being semi-armless.

Bomb Burst tossed the appendage to her and she remembered they had forgotten someone. "Crowbar..." She said in a broken whisper. "We forgot to messag-" at that point the acid raid running into her vocalizer finished what Punch had started, eating away at her voice and destroying the vocalizer completely.

Punch had taken her voice.

Nightbird's working optic glowed intensely and her features hardened.

Revenge towards the Autobot was on the table before, now it had a burning desire to be exacted. He had taken her voice, something she fought hard to be given in the first place, and it was a harsh reminder of what she used to be.

---

>>"Crowbar... Head back to the Semper Tyrannus."<< Bomb Burst commed to his subordinate before turning his attention to Nightbird. He knew her life prior to casting her lot with the Decepticons. Taking her voice was a harsh reminder of that awful life. "Don't worry, eventually we will have the chance to track him down. And you can make him pay dearly for taking your voice." He turned to face Bludgeon, he motioned for her to follow.

--

Bludgeon watched silently as Bomb Burst and Nightbird began making the short walk to him and his crew.

Bugly dropped down out of the sky, now that Skyfall was inside the evac ship he could stop watching. The shuttle was too high in altitude for him to tail anyway. He joined the others behind Bludgeon.

"The closest shuttle is that way." Bludgeon finally spoke indicating away from the forest.. and from Punch... A place with no protection from the acid rain.

Bludgeon was not going to wait any longer. He had been watching the acid eat away what little remained of Bomb Burst's armor. The assassin was now as exposed and vulnerable as possible; his exo-plating exposed in large swaths, all that was left between his wiring and the acidic rain after nearly all his armor had eroded. The Vampire's wiring had already been exposed in a few places.

He began walking in that direction. Skullgrin, Carnivac, Snarler, and Bugly immediately following. He passed by Nightbird and Bomb Burst just as Bomb Burst collapsed.

Bludgeon stopped suddenly having not expected that. He had been so focused on the acid rain that he had not thought that between the leaking and the Vampire's self repair systems having kicked into overdrive trying to repair the damage the acid was causing to his internal systems, Bomb Burst had run out of energon.

But he had not exhibited the usual signs of dangerously low fuel. No wild desperation, no attacking nearby mechs, no feral behaviors. Bludgeon knew Bomb Burst was low but not... Out.

---

Nightbird looked surprised also by Bomb Burst's suddenly drop into stasis lock. She had also been waiting for the usual signs of low on fuel from him and had not seen them. She dropped her arm and was leaning down to her Commander, however she was stopped as Carnivac quickly transformed out of his wolf mode and gently placed a hand on Nightbird's intact arm, guiding her back away from Bomb Burst.

He reached down and grabbed her detached arm, and lead her back to where the rest were.

--

Bludgeon strode over to the collapsed Vampire and picked him up.

Without a word he started back in motion, heading as quickly for the shuttle.

Once reaching the shuttle, which was only about half filled, he set Bomb Burst down and looked up at the cockpit.
"Depart. Now." He ordered.

His optics went back to Bomb Burst. He wiped the acid from the Vampire's chest plating, only to have what was left of the armor there crumble into dust. If he had only allowed Bomb Burst a few extra moments with Punch, he would have enough energon to make it back.

The shuttle pilots obeyed the orders of the Master of Metallikato and launched the shuttle. Once they were free of the planet's interference, Bludgeon opened comms to the ship.

>>>"Semper Tyrannus, we have a medical emergency. We need a med bay berth freed and an external fuel pump readied."<< He ordered before abruptly ending the communique.

He then opened a comm to Iguanus. >>"Iguanus. Get to the med bay, now."<<

Shuttle

“That is appreciated, Mindwipe. We have undergone a… unique experience and I accept any help you and your fellow mentalists can provide. The only thing I ask is that each of my fellows here be allowed to make the choice for themselves. And that their programming remains intact. I’m sure you can understand our feelings given what Jhiaxus has done to us.”

What a thoughtful commander the Monstercons had. One wouldn't think it, given what they could collectively become thanks to the machinations of Jhiaxus.

"I certainly understand," Mindwipe said, giving Slog a feigned bow of respect as he proceeded deeper into the shuttle. "We have nothing but the utmost concern for you and your team's complete recovery--both physical and mental. That is why we are all here."

Mindwipe's optics narrowed as his optics settled on the Monstercon who appeared to be most physically distraught at the moment. Indentifier: Icepick. The Decepticon Hypnotist moved in closer and sat on a shuttle bench near where Icepick sat, holding his head in his hands.

"Icepick...my name is Mindwipe. I know we've not had a chance to communicate. I'm here to help you process these events. I just....need you to look at me."
___

En route to shuttle

"I hope we can use what we learned from the scientist files to fix ourselves when we get free from the Cons. As much as I had detested some of Scattershot's schemes, he did get us out of some situations. I do wonder how he is doing since he never joined us," Nosecone said as he and the other Technobots were being ushered aboard the departing Decepticon shuttles.

"We will. Count on it. No way are the Decepticons getting a new weapon out of us. I'll take myself out if I have to. No more Logicor."
___

LV-117--Surface

”That’s… that’s how they did it? You stood no chance… no one could have predicted a surprise attack with a… glitching miniature space bridge...” Skyhammer asked as they watched Scorponok utilize his advanced spacebridge technology to return to his command ship.

"Prowl could have," Maximus sighed. "They should have made him the warden of Garrus-9. Kept me out in the field. Eh...who am I to second guess anything anymore? Super spacebridge tech or not, I could have been more prepared. Our only hope is that Omega made it back to Prime."
___

The Semper Tyrannis--Bridge

>>"Semper Tyrannus, we have a medical emergency. We need a med bay berth freed and an external fuel pump readied."<<

>>"Understood. A medical unit will be prepared to receive you with the requested equipment,"<< Reflector transmitted back, keeping the machine of their fleet's departure running smoothly as he watched the various shuttles approach the Tyrannis and the last contingent of troops on the surface board those that remained.

Jhiaxus’s Stronghold

The miserable cod known as Skalor had begun plundering his way through the stronghold, picking up whatever gizmos and gadgets he could find.

“Hasn’t been this way in a long while, eh?”

“You bet! Feels pretty good to stretch these digits again.” As he made his way around the stronghold, he left his stench inside as well. Rubbing it in gave him a lot of joy. When Snaptrap told them to move, Skalor joined his fellow fishy friends on the way out. “Aye, how does it feel, Trapper?”

LV-117 Shuttle

Bristleback’s systems were… he couldn’t really tell, to be honest. It was an ache to the cortex to think of anything that happened. But whatever it was, he wasn’t going to go back to it. Not at all. Scrap all of that to the fraggin’ pit. He let out a sigh, looking at his teammates on the shuttle. They were all beaten up too, but fraggit, he just… he just wanted to forget about that for a moment. He needed some nightmare fuel to drown all that out.

"The Mighty Megatron and Lord Commander Scorponok know you and your team have gone through a traumatic ordeal. It is this unit's job to see that you receive the finest physical and mental care the Second Expansion Fleet has to offer."

Slog had taken care of the brunt of the talking. He really didn’t deserve to have a commander like him. He looked over at Icepick, who seemed to have the same kind of feelings, by the look in his optics.

But Mindwipe seemed a bit shady. Some motherboard fragge- wait, what’s that slagger doing? He was already doing something to Icepick, and whatever it was, he didn’t like the feeling he was getting in his fuel tank.

[Semper Tyrannis - Medbay]

Scattershot tried feeling his arm. No luck - that bastard Hun-Gurrr had went on his merry way with it. Tch. If only he had the means to sink some bullets into that fragger.

But it wouldn’t be the last of that.

His optics offlined themselves again. He needed to save some Energon. The little he was provided with probably wasn’t enough to get him up again. His pistons felt dry. At some point, he was going to get off his berth and bash some heads in.

But it was not the time for that yet.

He thought about the other Technobots. Logicor. Ugh, what a pain. He had no idea what happened to them - but it was likely that they were still alive. Somewhere in his spark, he could feel it. Besides, he wasn’t going to just let go of them. And they wouldn’t let go either.

"Prowl could have," Maximus sighed. "They should have made him the warden of Garrus-9. Kept me out in the field. Eh...who am I to second guess anything anymore? Super spacebridge tech or not, I could have been more prepared. Our only hope is that Omega made it back to Prime."

Skyhammer shook his head at Fortress Maximus as the Autobot commander whipped himself for his failures. Not too long ago, Skyhammer had been doing exactly the same for similar reasons.

”No, stop selling yourself short Maximus.” The former commander of the Autobots’ Nebulos operation tried to comfort the massive Autobot general standing next to him. ”I didn’t see it coming either when Scorponok came for Nebulos. Nor was I able to get a warning out. And they didn’t even use that space bridge against my team. They just overwhelmed us. As difficult it is to admit, there was nothing any of us could do against those odds.”

”As smart he is, even Prowl couldn’t have seen it coming,” Skyhammer added, ”If he had, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. Decepticons outsmarted him this time… and Prime too.”

The Death’s Head

Lockdown stepped into his ship and thought about his decisions and choices made since coming to this world. After having grand ideas, he’d only earned a resupply for his ship while Scorponok’s mechs were raiding Jhiaxus’ laboratory for whatever secrets remained in there.

I should have focused on that instead.

The idea was a revelation for him, as he’d spent most of his existence being as perfect as possible when hunting his marks. It wasn’t that he felt the need to ingratiate himself to Scorponok or any of the others, oh no. No, what it was about was reestablishing himself as a viable means to the Decepticon hierarchy. He had weighed himself against the might of a Decepticon fleet, and while the odds had been against him, he’d performed well.

Well enough to be… drafted into service. The thought hung in the air as he entered The Death’s Head’s bridge and took his place in the pilot’s chair. There was no other meaning to discern from Scorponok’s comment, so where did that leave him?

In the service of a fair warlord, that’s where.

That thought vexed him at first, but it slowly sank in that if he served Scorponok well, he wouldn’t have any problems in sustaining his ship going forward. And I’ll have a chance at Reflector sooner or later.

Oh yes, that was a definable goal for serving the warlord. Of course, it also meant Reflector would be able seeking to do the same to him after their brief interaction. It was for that reason Lockdown decided against fulfilling his obligation to Fortress Maximus. He was in too precarious a position, not to mention lucrative, to send any transmission to the Autobots.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t at some point. He just had to bide his time and choose wisely.

But first, he felt it best to show his good faith in Scorponok by connecting to the Semper Tyrannis to replenish his stores. Once that was done, he may even spend some time on Scorponok’s flagship.

The universe was full of promising chances.

With a flick of his hand, his actuators flew across his ship’s controls and The Death’s Head lifted off, as its engines were already primed and ready.

Once he exited the atmosphere, he sent a message to the Semper Tyrannis, asking for permission to dock for resupplying. If Reflector answered, he had no doubt things would become… interesting.

>>The Death’s Head to Sepmer Tyrannis. Requesting docking permission or resupply.<<



LV-117 Shuttle

It had taken a great deal of cajoling, not to mention sacrifices of the drones that had decided approaching Cutthroat was wise, before the mech agreed to leave his pleasurable new hunting grounds and board a shuttle.

He took his place among several vehicons and even a few Seekers, choosing to amuse himself by staring at each of them until they couldn’t stand seeing a mech with energon and oil covering his face and breastplate and either turned away, ducking behind another mech, or making their way to the far wall. Either way, he was pleased.

Plus, he’d feasted of three mechs — two were Autobots, he was sure — before being approached to board the shuttles. After adding the spark of two more vehicons, he agreed. After all, there was only so much he could ingest. What he didn’t appreciate was leaving this world behind, but with his prey being removed as well, there was little he could do.

“The hunt will continue,” he said, hissing laughter pouring from him as well as small metallic chunks that hadn’t made it into his gullet. The surrounding ‘Cons backed away even further.



LV-117 Monstercon’s Shuttle

Mindwipe wrote: "I certainly understand," Mindwipe said, giving Slog a feigned bow of respect as he proceeded deeper into the shuttle. "We have nothing but the utmost concern for you and your team's complete recovery--both physical and mental. That is why we are all here."

Slog watched Mindwipe with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. The mech’s reputation was well known, but more troublesome than that was his apparent air of superiority. He’s showing enough respect to appear as though he cares.

The thought bore into Slog’s processor as he watched him approach Icepick to begin his… administrations.

A fear that something more was happening took root in Slog’s subconscious and quickly blossomed through his processor and logic circuits. He wanted to interfere, but something held him back. Out of all of them, Icepick took their merging the hardest, and if there was a chance Mindwipe could alleviate his suffering as well as that of the others, was it really his place to interfere?

Slog remembered reading, and hearing as well, that “to be a good soldier, one must love the military. But to be a good leader, one must be willing to order the death of what they love.”

He’d been fighting in this war for a long time, longer than he cared to remember, but If he cared about his fellow Monstercons, his brothers, as he believed he did, was he still willing to sacrifice them for the greater good?

There had to be a way. He knew Scorponok wanted them as his weapons. He’d already shown that by taking control of them and subverting their collective will, so was this truly an attempt to correct the damage he’d done, or was it to further cement his hold on them?

His decision made, he intended to look after what really mattered, and quietly powered up his magnetic rifle. If he got the tiniest inclination that Mindwipe was hurting Icepick, he’d put a stop to it. He just hoped it wouldn’t be necessary.

[LV-117 Surface]

The head of the DSS was soon joined by a familiar blue mech, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “I have returned, Banzaitron,” Counterpunch said, “And I have some information to share with you.”

He turned his head ever so slightly to take a gander over his shoulder, and noticed the insecticons still feasting away at the corpse of the monstrosity. No sound escaped his vocaliser. It was already damaged enough as it was. He opened his direct one-on-one comm with the DSS head.

>>”The Autobots are defeated. They will likely not last another fight, unless some miracle happens to swoop down upon them. I will keep an eye on some of the more… troublesome ones, especially that runt Wheelie and Skyfall. I’ll ensure that both are on their way back to the Semper Tyrannis, to the cells where they belong."<<

Somewhere on the inside, Punch cringed. Sometimes he hated his job and he hated Counterpunch even more. Sometimes he couldn’t believe it was really him saying all these words. It didn’t seem right.

yOu DoN't HaVe A cHoIcE, pUnCh.

Jhiaxus’s Stronghold

Pounce lifted his snout up, taking in everything his olfactory sensors would allow. This fortress was rich in scents, but not the sort he preferred. This was chemicals and metals and minerals. Very little of the live and killable variety.

"Nothing? Nothing to kill? I'd have guessed the old mech to leave at least one toy behind to entertain us."

[Shuttle en route to Semper Tyrannis]

Falling into the shuttle was a good idea, because it happened to be the one with his little fellow Wheelie in it. “I’m fine, Wheelie. Might’ve blown a bunch of resistors though. I took a bit of a beating out there… and I think I’m in a bit of trouble now.” Skyfall hurt all over from Bugly’s assault, and he wasn’t so sure he could fly anymore. But he was going to make sure to stay alive. Hopefully he could find something on the ship to tinker with.

A sudden realisation hit him as he thought about what had happened to his comrade that he had jumped out after. “But… Punch. I don’t know what happened to him.” He sorta just sat there with an empty look in his optics, wondering if everything he did was ultimately futile.

The shuttle arrived in the hangar of Scorponok’s flagship, and some seeker shoved Skyfall out of it, gun barrel pointed at the Autobot’s back. The engineer looked down at Wheelie, and silently continued walking in the direction where the seeker was nudging him. Back to the cells, now.

((OOC: To be continued in Semper Tyrannis thread))

Jhiaxus's Stronghold

Winging through the air a half-pace behind his brother's quadrupedal alternate form, Wingspan hung suspended for half a beat on his lightweight, titanium-alloy wings before transforming back into his robot mode and dropping to stand beside Pounce. “Patience, Brother Mine,” he said, knowing even as his vocalizer formed the words that they were wasted on his aggressive clone-sibling. “Banzai-Tron wouldn't have bothered to send for the both of us if he didn't think you'd have an opportunity to exercise your … unique talents.”

He looked around, ruddy optics taking in the wreckage surrounding the fortress and extending, as far as he could tell, well into the interior. “I'm amazed they sent for us at all, given what Scorponok's forces went through subduing the place.” Wingspan had, as a matter of course, fully reviewed the rosters of both Decepticons and confirmed Autobots involved in the attack. “I would have estimated the probability of there being any salvageable research data or other useful intelligence remaining after such a battle to be less than 0.001%.”

Sometimes the regular Decepticon armed forces managed to beat the odds, though. And what a coup they had achieved this cycle! He would never have spoken such praise out loud, of course—praise a ground-pounder for performing his function adequately once, and he'd soon begin expecting it after every minor skirmish and trivial raid. But to have taken the fortress of as notorious a mechanoid as Jhiaxus himself this intact! Well. Perhaps it deserved some minor acknowledgment in his data logs.

“I'm going to locate the nearest functioning data terminal,” he informed Pounce abruptly, already hurrying inside, enthusiasm obvious. “I can only begin to imagine what trove of information the most infamous scientist in Cybertronian history has left behind for us to plunder. But the sooner I start, the sooner Decepticon Security can begin sorting through it.” And deciding how much was fit for general consumption, what would need to be classified for the Conclave's optics alone … and if there might not be one or two tidbits that perhaps did not warrant mentioning outside the DSS.

LV-117 - Surface - Jhiaxus’ Stronghold

What secrets, what grand treasures awaited them. Were it not for the drawn out campaign and the unforeseen betrayal of the ancient mech, Jhiaxus, Banzai-Tron would be practically giddy at this opportunity to raid such a rare locale such as this. As the other Decepticons were quick to haul away all the physical treasures and tech, the DSS stayed behind to clean out the scientist’s data systems. Eons worth of research, experiments, journal notes, all ripe for the taking.

”I have returned, Banzai-Tron, and I have some information to share with you.”

“Ah, yes, Counterpunch. I take it then your mission was successful. Come, walk and talk.” Banzai-Tron responded, delving further into the stronghold as he looked over the heads of many a Decepticon as they cleansed this base of all its resources. Where are they? he wondered for a moment.

>>”The Autobots are defeated. They will likely not last another fight, unless some miracle happens to swoop down upon them. I will keep an eye on some of the more… troublesome ones, especially that runt Wheelie and Skyfall. I’ll ensure that both are on their way back to the Semper Tyrannis, to the cells where they belong."<<

>>”Excellent work and report, Counterpunch. It seems your Punch disguise worked like a charm. I’ll be sure to pass along your findings to Lord Scorponok himself. In the mean time, do what you can assist the others, and make it quick. We’re about to left here if we don’t pick up the pace.”<<

Banzai-Tron closed his comm line just as he noticed the pair of troublemakers he was just looking for. Pounce and Wingspan.

“Wingspan, just who I needed to see.” He said approaching the more avian mech of the twins, “Pull everything you can from the systems then wipe them clean afterwards. We’re on a time crunch and I do not wish to keep Scorponok waiting any longer. Pounce, you and Counterpunch here start taking the external hard drives and data centers to the shuttles. We’ll sort, prioritize, and scrub everything back about the Tyrannis.”

Making his way towards an empty Energon cube reutilitzed as a shipping container, Banzai-Tron hoisted his haul of tech and software towards the remaining shuttles.

LV-117 – Jhiaxus' Stronghold

Soon having to slow to pick his way through the damaged sections which were the most obvious signs of Jhiaxus' recent subjugation, Wingspan paused when he noted Banzai-Tron and Counterpunch conferring not far away. While the Decepticon Clone was fairly certain of his orders without needing them explicitly told, protocol, if nothing else, made it the DSS Director's prerogative to issue them himself, if he so chose. And it was not unthinkable that the situation had changed since the last after-action update had been logged.

“Wingspan, just who I needed to see. Pull everything you can from the systems then wipe them clean afterwards. We’re on a time crunch and I do not wish to keep Scorponok waiting any longer.

“Sir,” Wingspan nodded without complaint. That had been his intention from the moment of his arrival, but it was useful to know they were working against the clock, this outing. Curious—he would have thought a site as potentially valuable as this one would warrant a plate-by-plate dissection followed with an exhaustive investigation by the finest forensic examiners and data analysts in the DSS. But it was not his place to question; no doubt, these restrictions had been put in place by Scorponok himself. Formidable as the Security Service was, even they would have to balk at gainsaying a warlord of that standing without something personally damning to back it up.

Regrettably, Scorponok's reputation as a ruthless but ultimately fair leader appeared to be fully supported by the facts. So much so that even a manufactured scandal was unlikely to stick. Which meant that, for better or worse, any order he issued was to be considered absolute, even by those not strictly attached to the Second Expansion Fleet.

No matter. Wingspan found a bit of pressure kept his cerebro-circuity processing at optimal efficiency.

His initial plan to make for the central data core abandoned in the face of their exacting timetable, he instead made for the closest link to the fortress' internal data network—to all appearances an ancillary access hub of very limited priority. Still, there were ways around such restrictions, ways that, for mechanoid of Wingspan's talents, would prove ultimately faster than traversing the fortress on foot. Powering the recessed console with one of the portable batteries the other agents of the DSS had brought along to re-power offline systems, he began scrolling through multiple layers of code, recording, assessing, and then purging every bit of information still intact enough to process.

Jhiaxus' Stronghold

“Patience, Brother Mine. Banzai-Tron wouldn't have bothered to send for the both of us if he didn't think you'd have an opportunity to exercise your … unique talents,” Wingspan chided. Pounce paid him little heed.

"'Insurance'...I don't like bein' fragmaggoty 'insurance'," the other clone spat as his optics kept a careful watch on their surroundings, determined that nothing sentient was going to get the drop on them.

But it wasn't long before Banzai-tron himself made an appearance. Good. That meant things were happening. The fun on this planet, the tearing things apart: that had come to its logical end.

“I'm going to locate the nearest functioning data terminal. I can only begin to imagine what trove of information the most infamous scientist in Cybertronian history has left behind for us to plunder. But the sooner I start, the sooner Decepticon Security can begin sorting through it.”

"And the sooner Banzai can give me a job worth my talents. Tho an energon tankard inbetween wouldn't kill me," Pounce said as he transformed.

“Wingspan, just who I needed to see. Pull everything you can from the systems then wipe them clean afterwards. We’re on a time crunch and I do not wish to keep Scorponok waiting any longer. Pounce, you and Counterpunch here start taking the external hard drives and data centers to the shuttles. We’ll sort, prioritize, and scrub everything back about the Tyrannis.”

"Sir," Pounce said, echoing his clone's acknowledgement. He had expected better. He was, after all, one of Banzai-tron's aces within the DSS. He'd put his mission record up against just about anyone except for the mech to whom he had been assigned carrier duty--Counterpunch.

"Alright, let's bag this slag up and blast. We've got better horizons to get to."