Adrift - SPECIAL-A of 52

Adrift
A Transformers: Armada Story
By William Rendfeld


Pyro hated the tunnels that ran beneath Cybertron's cities. He understood perfectly that they were essential for maintenance purposes, that they helped to provide power to places across Cybertron, that going down into them was common enough for maintenance mechs and up, but nonetheless, he hated them with a passion. Well, not so much hated them as hated being in them. Other mechs in the security forces would no doubt laugh, but the young mech always had a chill race up and down his servos each time he ventured into them, no matter who he was with.

"There aren't any scraplets down here. You can relax."

That he was with Streetwise only helped matters so much. "It's not scraplets I'm worried about. Well, not specifically. Let's face it; this is a dark and creepy tunnel. There could be anything down here."

"One of thousands criss-crossing this planet that I've mapped, catalogued, and surveyed. The only things that we need to worry about down here are Megatron's goons, and nothing more."

The younger mech shook his head, anything but calmed by the elder's words. His senior was an excellent investigator and a dogged pursuer, but the sort you wanted consoling you? That wasn't Streetwise. His calm, unflappable, deadpan demeanor could only do so much to distract you from your own proper paranoia, especially given the fact that the service tunnels tended to be the only safe method of travel for Megatron's forces. They could run into anyone down here, from Megatron himself to Clench to Mindwipe to…

"DIE AUTOBOT SCRAPLETS!"

An intense barrage of blaster shots heralding his entrance, a lithe Decepticon with bulky armor and twin blaster pods built into his arms jumped in front of the two Autobots, another pair of Decepticons clearly built with aircraft as alternate modes rushing in behind them, one armed with twin handheld cannons and the other with a charged electro-trident.

The two Autobots ducked and hid behind cover as quickly as they could, but couldn't avoid many of the stray shots that came their way, one grazing Pyro's leg and another tearing through Streetwise's wing-like sensor array. Cover attained behind an archway, the two readied their weapons.

"Three of 'em; spark signatures match for Deadlock, Jetblade, and Terradive!"

"Well, Clench's XO and a pair of his minions! Can't get much worse than that!"

"Actually, it could! We could be dealing with Clench himself! If that was the case, this little scheme wouldn't even be worth trying!" Photon rifle ready, the investigator turned to his young partner. "You ready?!"

Pyro's arm cannon whirred online. "Just give me cover!"

Streetwise nodded before he spun out of hiding and ducked low, finally opening fire upon the Decepticon trio, his partner spinning into view and firing a fine mist upon their attackers. A canister spent and the trio stumbling back from the mist, both Autobots then dropped visors over their optics as a rocket fired from one of the senior mech's shoulder cannons, streaking into the air before exploding and engulfing the entire area in blinding white light. The two Autobots turned, transformed and sped down the tunnel as the Decepticons recovered their senses.

His optics trying their hardest to reboot after the rocket flash, Deadlock shouted back down the tunnel at the escaping Autobots, waving his fist in frustration and defiance. "That's right! Run, you Autobot cowards! You're only delaying the inevitable!" Vision slowly returning, he turned to face his comrades and said, "We could've had them! We could've taken them down, and then –!"

"And then what?!" Stumbling out of hiding, unseen in the firefight and recognized by his grating, whining voice, Crankcase looked to his superior and bitterly vented, "We weren't even supposed to start a firefight! Our orders were to do recon! We weren't supposed to shoot unless we got shot at first, but no! You had to go and add a couple more Autobots to your kill count! Clench is not going to be happy about this, Deadlock!"

Optics narrowed, the ruthless Decepticon approached his subordinate. "And who's going to tell him what happened? You?"

"Slagging right! He might not listen to me – Primus knows no one does – but someone has to relate just how much of a fiasco this mess was, and it might as well –!"

Crankcase's rant was interrupted by a swift backhanded slap from Deadlock, the blow shattering part of his optic bar and sending him flying into one side of the tunnel. Battered and disoriented, the wounded Decepticon attempted to get back to his feet only to get kicked back onto the ground and have his left hand crushed with one terrible stomp, prompting a pained cry.

His point made, Deadlock leaned down and said, "Clench listens to me. Not you. And my choosing to attack an Autobot slag heap is none of his business. And no whining little cleaning droid is going to tell me what I can and can't do!" He ground his foot into the mech's hand to further emphasize his point, the mech's screams echoing through the tunnel.

Terror in his optics, Jetblade nonetheless spoke up. Aside from the unnecessary cruelty, there was no sense in turning one of their own into scrap. "Deadlock, come on, you've made your point! Let him –!"

The ivory Seeker turned silent as Deadlock aimed his weapon at his conical head. "Maybe I haven't made it clear enough, if some meek little idiot like you is going to question –!"

An electrical surge went through the Decepticon's systems, Terradive's trident embedded in his side. He finally collapsed, the orange jet standing over him. Violating orders and beating up Crankcase was one thing, but threatening his wing-mech was another matter entirely.

Still more than a little terrified by what he had seen, Jetblade looked over their unconscious commander, not eager to ask his question. "Is he…?"

"Just in stasis. I'll tell Clench what happened." Deadlock slung over his shoulders, Terradive tilted his head towards their fourth. "You get him. We're not leaving him behind. We can't afford it."

The smaller of the two jets did as he was told, slinging Crankcase over one shoulder and half-carried, half-dragged him away, following his friend. With pained grunts, Crankcase looked over his damaged hand and whined, "Great. I'll be lucky if I don't lose that hand. What do you bet me Scalpel will be the one looking over it?"

A small part of Jetblade almost wished that Crankcase's vocal processors had been crushed. Sure, he'd be in even worse shape, but at least he'd be quiet.  

-

Some distance now between them and their aggressors, Pyro and Streetwise emerged from the tunnels and onto the surface, the twilight sky over Uraya greeting them. Glad to be out from underground, Pyro nonetheless took a second to glance over his wound, giving a disappointed groan. "And here I was hoping we'd avoid a firefight."

"It's superficial. A dip in the CR Chamber and it'll be gone." Hardly impressed by his partner's apparent hypochondria, the smaller of the two mechs activated his communicator and reported in. "Home base, this is Team Three. We've had positive contact with Decepticon insurgents. We're a little worse for wear, but they've been marked."

:"Copy that, Team Three. Good news; you two were the lucky ones. Return to base for debrief and repairs.":

"On our way in. Team Three out." The line closed, Streetwise glanced over the damage to his sensor array with some displeasure. Red Alert probably wouldn't let him hear the end of this. That unpleasant thought still in mind, he gestured to his partner. "Come on, back to base. Something tells me Quickstrike's already figured out a plan for the next part."

"And we'll be charging in once everyone's armed up." Less than eager to get into a fight, Pyro nonetheless followed his partner, both transforming and driving back to their regional base for the next part in the plan. Bringing in rogue Decepticons was their job, after all, and odds are this little scheme would only work once.

-

Slowly, Deadlock's systems reasserted themselves, his optics coming back online and his audials allowing him to regain his senses. Dark shadows greeted him, the numb feeling in his limbs immediately telling him that he'd been shackled in stasis cuffs. Three guesses left about who had put him in them.

"Well, ain't you a piece of work." His captor emerged from the shadows, blue-green armor giving off the odd sparkle, and looked over him with disapproval in his optics. "You are getting way too big for your chassis, Deadlock. What am I going to do with you?"

A smirk. "You could always let me loose; give me a chance to do my thing. Who knows Clench; maybe I'll skip tearing a new one in your sparkly frame and just go nuts on the Autobots instead."

Bright green optics narrowed at the remark, slightly impressed at the audacity but generally not amused by the threat. While not quite as high on Megatron's command roster as mechs like Thrust, Razorclaw or Sharkticon, Clench was nonetheless among his more dangerous subordinates, due to his loyalty, his incredible firepower, and his general levels of competence. His sparkling exterior was a quirk of his design, its display an eccentricity, but it was one that Megatron tolerated, and that his troops never commented on lest they incurred his wrath. He opted to let the remark slide this time and simply continued on with his lecture. "You got the same message as everyone else. Avoid notice, keep up surveillance. We both know the Autobots are up to something; Megatron wouldn't give us specifics on something like that for his own amusement. And yet, there you go, trying to blast them into scrap at the first opportunity. Why is that?"

The smirk faded. "The more Autobots killed, the faster this war gets won. I'd think Megatron would know that."

Clench shook his head and tutted. "The more Autobots killed, the faster a battle gets won. Winning a battle and winning a war are two different things. Gotta think big picture, Deadlock."

Anger was now clear in the younger mech's face. "Is that why Megatron's done nothing but sit on his aft since the Second War?! I fail to see how hiding underground and letting the Autobots just up and capture us a few at a time is working on the big picture!"

The larger Decepticon's optics locked on his subordinate. "That's why you're my second in command, and not in his inner circle. He might've given you that wonderful new name of yours, brought you into our fold, but that doesn't give you the right to criticize his plans, or beat the slag out of your mechs. Even if he's a whining little frag, Crankcase didn't deserve to get roughed up like that." He turned away and noted, "I'm starting to think I'd be better off with a different XO. You're getting way too reckless for my liking. Slag, even Axor knows when to rein it…" An explosion sounded, interrupting his statement, and Clench shook his head with an annoyed grumble. "Excuse me a moment. Sounds like Slicer's been overzealous with his weapons tests again."

Clench stepped back into the shadows, the hiss of a sliding door opening and closing confirming his exit and additional explosions sounding. It sounded like there was more going on than just a poorly-timed weapons test, and regardless, Deadlock knew he needed to get out of these restraints.

A brief power failure allowed for exactly that, the cuffs shorting out and restoring mobility to his frame. Knowing he wouldn't have long, he deployed a small lock pick from one finger, a trick he'd picked up long before becoming a Decepticon, and carefully jimmied his way out of the cuffs. He dropped to the ground, rubbed his wrists on instinct, and had a few moments of brief joy before he took notice of the dim blue light radiating from the band around his left arm; a specialized stasis manacle, not enough to knock out his mobility but enough to deactivate his internal weapons, and so difficult to remove without the right tools that it was easier to remove his limb. Clench had thought ahead.

Only one thing to do then; retrieve a weapon and fight off whoever was attacking. Best case scenario, he could kill the Autobots and get back in his commander's good graces. Worst case, well, he could just kill everyone, escape, then find his way back to Megatron's cell and pass himself off as the lone survivor. Starscream would probably question it, but it wasn't like that turncoat Seeker would have anyone listen to him. Either way, piece of energon cake.

Power was restored, and the doors before him slid open, finding clear signs of a firefight within their hiding place. How the slag had the Autobots found them? There weren't any tracers or bugs planted or…

Slag it all, that mist!

-

While their larger constructs were far more prominent, especially when it came to warfare, Cybertronians in general regularly made use of smaller machines, usually for medical or stealth purposes. By law, however, the manufacture of nanotech devices for use as weapons in warfare was prohibited, due mostly to the concern of being unable to stop them once they started. No such prohibition was ever put in place for nanotech-based transmitters, however, but such a plan had never been used, as a countermeasure could very easily be developed. But properly used if only once and such a plan could make a world of difference.

Stakeout couldn't have been more pleased as he shot his way into the hideout, the dim light only a slight impediment to his progress. "Checkpoint, have I ever mentioned that you and Quickstrike are geniuses?!"

The larger mech at his back couldn't help but be a little proud, given that the entire plan was his idea. Sending small teams of Autobots into known areas where Megatron's forces had been hiding out in the hopes that they'd be attacked by some of the tyrant's more overzealous supporters was a long shot even with Quickstrike's input, but it had evidently paid off – of the four Decepticons they'd encountered thus far, all of them had been stasis tagged and captured without much trouble. "Well, don't count your protoforms until they come online! We haven't cleared this base out yet!"

A terrible explosion confirmed the security officer's statement, and the pair soon found themselves looking straight at Clench's riot shield as he charged in, their weapons having little impact against it. Both barely managed to dodge him in the room's small confines, the large Decepticon managing a dark chuckle. "I always love it when guests come by to entertain!" A few potshots flying towards the two Autobots, he laughed and taunted them. "Come on! Is this all you've got?!"

A bash to the back of his cranium answered his question, causing the large Decepticon to fall forward. He braced himself with his shield, but quickly recovered and got back to his feet, turning to find Landquake standing behind him, armored up and firing off additional punches. "Wrong question to ask!" The Decepticon colossus pressed against one wall, the bulky Autobot turned to his comrades. "I've got him! Go!"

The two complied and continued on their way through the compound, sensors primed for oncoming Decepticons. They soon came across a pair of doorways, both open, and took up positions outside the closest one. Stakeout slowly peered inside, but quickly found it empty, a pair of stasis cuffs dangling from the ceiling. Signaling that the room was safe, he closed the door and gestured to the second one.

The two hadn't even started moving towards it when a flash grenade rolled to their feet and detonated, their senses quickly overwhelmed by the brief explosion. A pair of blasters in hand to replace his deactivated weapons and a long-range rifle clipped to his back, Deadlock charged out of the weapons locker and opened fire. Stakeout was too small and fast a target, but Checkpoint was hit with little trouble. But the sounds of his former commander getting beaten up a small distance away prompted the Decepticon to escape and flee; he'd have little trouble against one or two smaller ones, but larger mechs that could go toe to toe with Clench were another matter.

Stakeout growled at the attacker. "We've got a runner! I'm on him!"

"Wait!" The smaller Autobot was already in pursuit before Checkpoint could respond. The damage wasn't severe, but it was enough to get him out of the fight. Hoping that his comrade wouldn't get into too much trouble, he activated his comm.-link. "All units, this is Checkpoint – we have a runner! Spark signature is a match for Deadlock! Stakeout is in pursuit, but I want all aerial units keeping tabs on them!"

-

"Checkpoint, this is Searchlight! I've just spotted him! I'm joining Stakeout in pursuit!"

Having blasted his way out of the hideout, Deadlock counted his blessings that the stasis manacle had only disabled his built-in weapons and shifted to vehicle mode as he made good his escape. The telltale calls of rotors humming and sirens blaring sounded behind him, prompting him to pick up speed and hope that he could make good his escape. Even as he kept up pursuit, however, he increased the sensitivity on his internal repair system, hoping that would be enough to get rid of whatever effects the gas had on him. It wouldn't do him much good if he couldn't lose his pursuers, but at least he could help keep them away once they were lost.

Unfortunately, the mostly level plains of Uraya only provided so much natural cover, and the Decepticon was forced to dart and weave through alley after alley, hoping that his pursuers would be exhausted before he was. He couldn't help but remember what circumstances were like for him before joining Megatron, on the run from one mech or another, forced to do what he had to in order to survive. The more things changed, it seemed.

Some distance finally put between him and his pursuers, Deadlock scanned over nearby facilities, hoping to find somewhere to hide until his internals finished their work and the tracking system was defeated. The one structure that stood out was an ornate one, with high red columns, ornate multi-layered roofs and multiple high windows, surrounded by spacious grounds with small crystalline and silica gardens and ponds. It stood out like a bust piston, but it looked easily accessed and there didn't seem to be many other options. It would have to do.

Speeding underneath the bright red archway at the edge of the grounds, the Decepticon fugitive transformed and charged up the front steps, plowing his way inside through the front door. As he drew his acquired weapons, Deadlock realized that the door had opened far too easily. Didn't whoever lived or worked here lock their entrances? He looked up and around at his surroundings – a large room with high ceilings and smooth walls, their composition resembling some hard organic substance, with sparse decoration and little furniture.

"I was not expecting company this mega-cycle." His guns primed, he aimed for the one mech in the room. The old mech was placidly sitting at a low table, legs crossed and back to him, helmet ornately decorated and armor predominantly white and gold. Blue optics met Deadlock's red as the old mech turned his head and offered, "If you are going to use your weapons, then do so. Otherwise, kindly store them."

Deadlock was far too bewildered to shoot. Calmly staring death in the face, not even rising to run and flee from certain doom? What kind of crazy old mech was this? He kept his weapons primed and aimed at the old mech's torso. "I don't want any trouble! No sudden moves or you're dead!"

The old mech seemed unimpressed. "If you had intended to kill me, you would have done so already. Now, if you've changed your mind, I suggest you simply do what you came to do and leave."

The Decepticon had fought several mechs in his time, killed quite a few, but this was the first time he'd ever encountered one that seemed totally unafraid. Slag, he was hardly showing any emotion at all. He'd have thought that something like this would be annoying – instead, it was confusing, and a little frightening. What he wouldn't give for something easier to shoot at right about now.

His prayers were answered as Searchlight and Stakeout burst through the front door, stopping just inside of it with weapons ready. While a standoff ensued between them and Deadlock, the Autobot flyer quickly took note of the old mech and called out. "Master Yoketron? Are you online?"

A gentle laugh. "Quite alright, young one." Yoketron rose to his feet and turned to face them, his Autobot emblem now visible upon his chest. "Now, am I to assume that my visitor is to be incarcerated?"

"That's correct, sir."

"No doubt considered a dangerous criminal, then." At Searchlight's nod, Yoketron gave the Decepticon an appraising glance. "Well, I am afraid that the two of you are out of luck. This dangerous criminal has asked me for sanctuary."

Deadlock barely moved, but was surprised by the Autobot's boldfaced lie. He'd never said a thing about sanctuary! What in the Pit was he playing at?

The two Autobots were just as surprised, Stakeout looking at the old master in shock. "You can't give that murdering slagheap sanctuary! He's Deadlock, Clench's XO! He's slagged three Autobots that we know of!"

"And it could have easily been four. But it wasn't. And when sanctuary is granted at a site such as this, it is to be honored." He quietly waved for them to leave. "If you have no other business here, I suggest that you depart. You no doubt have other tasks which demand your attention."

Stakeout looked as if he wanted to protest further, but was stopped by his teammate. Frustrated, he gave a respectful nod and followed Searchlight out.

As they left, Deadlock glanced back and forth between the two and the old mech, wondering exactly what was going on. Who was this 'Yoketron', and why were these idiot Autobots so eager to cooperate with him? Deciding that he was better off not debating, he gave a relieved laugh. "Thanks old mech. You shouldn't have stuck your neck out for me like that."

"I saw no reason not to."

A laugh as he turned away. "I'll remember that. Anyway, I'll be leaving now, so…"

"I'm afraid I cannot allow that." Deadlock stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face the older mech. "If you go outside of the grounds for this temple, you will be captured, or worse, immediately killed. I cannot allow another Cybertronian, whatever their background, to be slain before my optics if I can prevent it."

The Decepticon wasn't sure if he should be touched by the mech's concern or annoyed by it. "Then is there another way out?"

"Of course. And I will show it to you if, and only if, you can defeat me in unarmed combat."

Deadlock was dumbfounded. "I kick your aft, and you show me the way out? What if I kill you?"

"If I am dead, then you have no knowledge of the escape. You will be trapped here."

"And if I tear this place apart?"

"You'll risk damaging your means of safe escape. Your best option is to fight me and let me live."

"And if you kill me?"

"I have not taken the life of a single Cybertronian since I was brought online at the start of the First Great War. I am not about to indulge in such actions now."

Deadlock considered his options. The mech had made several good points, or at least reasonable ones, and had all but promised to not take his spark. And besides, he was an old mech, slow moving and not at all imposing. He could take him, with or without weapons.

But what fun was there in beating up an old mech?

Tossing aside his guns, the Decepticon transformed and sped forward, driving about the room and making his way for the door, only to be sent flying rear bumper over front by a kick he didn't even see coming. He crashed hard on the floor, shifted back to robot mode, and looked at the old mech in shock, met with a bemused grin.

"You'll have to do better than that."

Now thoroughly frustrated, Deadlock rose to his feet and charged the old mech, one hand balled into a fist. If he wanted a fight, then fine, he'd get one. Yoketron simply caught it and spun the Decepticon about once before sending him flying into a wall. The younger mech slowly got back to his feet, frustration and shock clear on his face.

"They say the third time is the charm, young one."

Deadlock shook his head in absolute shock. "How the slag are you doing this?"

The old master smiled. "I am a master of many martial arts. Circuit-Su, Crystalocution, Diffusion, Metallikato, Processor-Over-Matter, and many others both common and arcane. To one such as I, your movements are as slow as…"

Deadlock charged once more, but Yoketron merely side-stepped and landed a swift blow to the back of the Decepticon's cranium, finally knocking him to the ground. The younger mech was then gently turned over, amazement in his optics and pain registering on his face.

A chuckle. "As slow as a Kaon night." He offered a hand. "Your first lesson, young mech; appearances can be deceiving."

Deadlock briefly considered attacking again, but decided against it. He was battered enough already, he didn't want to end up even worse. He took the offered hand and regained his feet. "I'll remember that."

"Good. I have many more for you, my student." As if anticipating a complaint, the old master looked upon his new disciple and asked, "You have no objections to this?"

Deadlock shrugged. "It beats staying in the stockade, I guess. Lead on, teacher."

A correcting finger was raised. "Sensei."

"Sensei. Fine, whatever."

A contemplative smile crossed Yoketron's face, and he gestured for the young mech to follow him. "Come. You look as if you require sustenance, as well as some repair work. Also, if you will allow me to remove your built-in weapons, I will remove that manacle from your arm."

That gave Deadlock pause, but it was short lived; weapons or no, it was clear the old mech could take him in a fight. Besides, they could be replaced one future cycle. "Okay, that sounds fair."

"Good. And after you have been cleaned up, your next lesson will begin."

-

"You haven't seen the last of us, Autobot scum! Though you may silence a few of us, you cannot silence the inevitable call for change! A new day is dawning, and when it comes, Megatron will –!"

The hatch closed on the stasis pod, forcing Icepick into silence. Checkpoint shook his head sadly as he walked out of the hold, less than pleased at what he'd heard from the Decepticon's vocalizer. The sad fact was that for every ten followers the tyrant had who were dissatisfied with the current regime or simply desired power, there was the odd one who was a zealous follower, ready to go straight into Unicron's maw if Megatron ordered it. He didn't know any way to discourage them, which made it all the more frightening and tragic. The best they could do was take this one off the streets and keep him off.

Doors slid shut behind him, and the security officer found himself greeted by the approving face of his commander. Only slightly taller than him and with armor colored a pale blue, Hot Zone was a popular and charismatic mech who led his subordinates by example, often charging into the fray with energetic glee whenever he had the chance to get out from behind his desk. "Six of Megatron's troops captured in one operation, including Clench himself. Nice work, Checkpoint."

The black and white semi shook his head. "Thanks, but I think luck had more to do with it than anything. That none of us were seriously injured is a minor miracle."

"Maybe, but I've never been one to complain about them. And the fewer we have on the streets, the better…"

"Hot Zone!" Both mechs halted in their path as King Atlas approached, fury and anger clear on his face. "Is this the mech responsible for the fiasco earlier?"

Checkpoint looked more than a little insulted at that claim, but his commander spoke up for him. "I fail to see how Checkpoint's plan counted as a fiasco, Atlas. Almost all of Clench's cell has been incarcerated, including Clench himself, and…"

"And one of them is still out there, holed up in Yoketron's dojo and waving his aft at us, laughing! What kind of idiot goes and lets an operation end up like that?! You should've grabbed him and left, or better, caught him before he got in!"

A quirked optic ridge was the first reaction that Hot Zone gave to Atlas' complaints. After waiting to make certain that the larger mech was done complaining, the security commander spoke in a calm, even voice. "That we were unable to capture Deadlock before he entered Yoketron's dojo is problematic, yes, but things like this happen. As it stands, however, things could have ended up being far worse. He's claimed sanctuary, and there's only one way in or out of the place. And the instant he leaves the grounds, we can be on him in a spark-pulse. And if you're worried about him hurting Yoketron…"

A scoff from the ivory jet. "Who could care about that senile old rust bucket? I'm more worried about your idiot subordinates screwing up again. And trust me, they will screw up again." Turning and striding off, Atlas called back more than loud enough to be heard, "I just hope to Primus I'm not around to see it!"

Checkpoint kept his vocalizer shut as Atlas strode out of sight, but finally found himself unable to hold back. "Permission to speak candidly, sir?"

"That Atlas is a dipstick is accepted among the higher-ups, Checkpoint. I only wish there was something to be done about it." Shaking his head, Hot Zone opted to let the matter drop – either Atlas would learn to be more respectful towards his inferiors, or he wouldn't live long enough to regret it. "That aside, I assume surveillance is up around the dojo?"

"Searchlight's watching it now. He, Streetwise and Stakeout will be watching it in alternating shifts until we're told otherwise."

"Good. Hopefully, we won't have any unforeseen problems."

-

"Lord Megatron, I bring ill news." Thrust had considered many variations upon his next words, hoping to put a more positive spin on what had occurred, but ultimately found himself unable to find anything that could do the job. He ultimately opted to just relay his information and hope for the best. "The cell commanded by Clench has been captured."

Megatron grimaced, a low growl escaping his vocalizer. He opted against turning his chair to face the tactician, trying to keep his rage under control. "How?"

"Their base was compromised, my lord."

Optic shutters narrowed dangerously as he turned to face his underling. "You misunderstand my meaning, Thrust. How have we gained this information? The Autobots do not broadcast captures until their transfer to the stockades on Aegis is complete, and I have received no word from our sources about this capture."

"Skystalker witnessed the assault, my lord." Another Decepticon stepped forward, his armor black and gold and his optics a brilliant red. "He reported his findings to me, and I to Thrust."

"No doubt to avoid endangering yourself."

Mindwipe humbly bowed his head. While fair enough in a fight, he much preferred to work through others, and between his partnership with Skystalker and his hypnotic abilities, he was able to do exactly that more times than not. "I merely follow the chain of command, Lord Megatron."

The tyrant opted to let the matter go and concentrate on their more immediate concern. "Very well. I want details, Mindwipe."

"Skystalker observed Clench, Terradive, Jetblade, Crankcase, Icepick and Slicer being led away in stasis cuffs. I suspect they are in Uraya's holding facility." Noticing his commander's arched optic ridge, he elaborated, "Deadlock remains at large."

"But has yet to report in." Megatron's memory banks quickly brought up the young Decepticon, reminding him of all that he had done in his cause, and what he had been before. "Do we have any knowledge of how their base was discovered?"

Thrust quickly spoke up, glad to get a word in. "None whatsoever, my lord. Do you suspect betrayal?"

"That is the most likely outcome. Alert all Decepticons under my command – Deadlock is now a traitor, and is to be terminated on sight."

"And what of Clench's forces?" At his leader's querying gaze, the tactician elaborated, "As of right now, his troops are not outside of our reach. There still exists the possibility of freeing them, my lord."

Megatron's optics narrowed as he considered his options. Allowing them to remain incarcerated would be a fitting punishment for their failure, but Clench and his soldiers were loyal, and his resources were small. If the possibility existed that they could be freed, then it should be pursued. "Very well. Thrust, formulate a plan. Mindwipe, assemble a strike team. Once we have the information needed, we shall free our comrades and give the Autobots a short, sharp lesson in who is in control. Dismissed!" His two subordinates turned and departed, and the tyrant opened a secure comm.-line as the hatch into his chambers closed behind them. "Obsidian, I have a task for you."

to be continued...