Adrift - SPECIAL-C of 52

"Pyro? Pyro, you with me?"

The fire engine slowly regained consciousness, his systems getting back online after what felt like an eternity. As his optics flickered back on, Pyro looked about, quickly finding himself suspended from the ground, stasis cuffs over both his arms and legs and a smaller manacle over his right bicep, his weapons clearly removed. He looked over to Streetwise and noticed he was in similar condition. "Just another fine mess we've gotten ourselves into, eh?"

"Something like that." The black police interceptor looked about, reassessing their surroundings for what was the seventeenth time. "The good news is that we're online. The bad news is that we're captured, locked in stasis cuffs, and trapped in an unknown location. And even if we could break out of these things, our firearms are gone and we can't get the manacles off, meaning our weapons systems are offline."

"Even worse, we're stuck in a room with horrible décor." At his partner's quirked optic ridge, the larger of the two noted, "Just saying. Now, how soon do you think it will be before they interrogate us?"

"Assuming they interrogate us."

Pyro managed a frustrated and disappointed sound not unlike a growl. "The oil can is always half-empty with you, isn't it?"

"I'm being realistic. Ever since the Eclipse Team was captured, Megatron has held a very strict policy against taking prisoners. Either our hosts want us to suffer for a bit, or they want to give him the chance to kill us himself."

The door leading into the chamber opened, and Clench stepped in. "Howdy, 'Bots." It slammed shut behind him as he looked over the pair. "My, aren't we handsome?" Neither answered him, and he tutted. "And here I was hoping one of you would decide to comment on my whole glitter motif."

Managing a shrug despite his restraints, Pyro noted, "Rather obvious, isn't it?"

The Decepticon colossus turned to the Autobot, a malicious look on his face. "That it is." He faced him and noted, "Now, I want some information."

Pyro pursed his lips and considered his next words carefully before he spoke. "Alright, let's see. The constellation of Kasteborous consists of at least six stars, all readily visible from Iacon save during stellar opposition. Hassium is thus far only known to naturally occur on Brasta, albeit in very small quantities. Your glitter effect is probably due to some ceramic armor enhancement, with the odd bit of emerald thrown in, possibly some malachite as well; mineralogy really isn't my strong suit, so Swerve could probably say more, but…" Clench's gun found itself in his face, and he quickly changed tact. "Ah. Not interested in odds bits of trivia and conjecture then?"

The Decepticon shook his head. "Definitely not from you." He turned to Streetwise and said, "Now, something tells me that me killing your talkative friend won't get you to talk, but it'll be another matter entirely if I kill you."

Streetwise's response was quick and in accordance with traditional procedures. "My designation is Streetwise. My assignment is with the Autobot Security Forces, commanding officer Hot Zone. My serial number is 8694 dash 10."

Pyro immediately chimed in. "My designation is Pyro. My assignment is with the Autobot Security Forces, commanding officer Hot Zone. My serial number is 9394 dash 10."

No longer amused, Clench added, "Well, my designation is Clench, and my assignment…" He paused to fire a round dangerously close to Pyro's leg. "…is with the Decepticons who don't take kindly to cheap jokes." Deciding that they hadn't been sufficiently intimidated, he turned and left the same way he came. "You mechs get comfy; you'll be here a spell."

The door sealed shut behind him, and the younger mech managed a relieved sigh. "Well, that bought us a little time."

"Hopefully, enough for a rescue." Glancing up at the bonds, Streetwise made a mental note to ask Getaway how he managed to get out of these things, all the while thanking Nightbeat for the odd lessons in countering interrogation, as well as allowing him to tolerate Pyro's occasional babbling. Opting to keep their minds off their all-but-inevitable doom, he decided to turn attention towards other topics. "So, who do you like for the Primus League Cup?"

Surprised that his partner actually cared about sports but glad to have something to discuss that didn't involve dying, the fire engine immediately chipped in. "Oh, Stanix, easily. They've got Krok, after all. You?"

"Tyrest. Never bet against Nosecone."

-

Drift emerged from the CR Chamber, quietly flexing his joints and running a quick self-diagnostic. The gaps in his arms where his built-in laser batteries had been remained, but he was in no rush to replace them. In a strange way, he was happy to be without them; they were a part of Deadlock, after all, and that mech was for all intents and purposes dead now. He just wasn't looking forward to proving that to the rest of Cybertron; he knew that it wouldn't happen quickly.

"Sorry if you don't like the new look." His optics darted towards Ratchet, the medic looking apologetic. "Quite a few of your components had been damaged. We had to replace many of them."

He looked to a nearby reflective surface and quickly noticed the changes. Most of the black armor on his shoulders, chest and legs had been replaced with similar components, though with white now the predominant color. Even his head had undergone some slight cosmetic changes, his optics now blue rather than red and his helmet significantly different than before. "Actually, I like it." He turned back to the medic and smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

Ratchet waved him off. "Autobot, Decepticon or otherwise, it's my job to patch mechs up. Of course, now that you're healed, you're probably going to have different problems. Red can't keep Atlas out forever, and you don't exactly have an easy means of escape in here."

A nod. "Escape is the last thing on my processor right now. Like I said, I need to…"

"The only thing you need to do is consider yourself under arrest, Deadlock!" Barging back into the medical bay past a cross Red Alert, King Atlas raised a pair of stasis cuffs. "There's going to be a delivery to the stockade today, and one prisoner is better than none!"

"Atlas, stand down!" Ratchet quickly stepped between his patient and his superior, fully aware that he was only delaying the inevitable. "Don't you think it's a little more important to hear what he has to say before tossing him into a stasis cell?"

"You honestly expect me to believe any slag this lying Decepticon has to say?" Jabbing a finger into the medic's chest, the white jet added, "And he's repaired now! You don't have the authority to tell me to stand down if I want to arrest him!"

"But I do." Heads immediately turned, Drift's optics widening in surprise at the mech standing at the entrance to the medical bay. Tall and bulky, with wide red shoulders and blue legs, it was the one Autobot that all Cybertronians recognized on sight. His optics fixed on his subordinate, Optimus Prime ordered, "Stand down, Atlas. I'd like to speak with the prisoner." Amid the jet's sputtering protests, the Autobot leader stepped forward and politely offered a hand. "Drift, I assume?"

"Yes, Optimus." The younger mech accepted the offered hand. "Thank you, but why are you here?"

"I heard that Yoketron gave you sanctuary. He and I were friends, and I wanted to speak with his last pupil." Optimus looked to Red Alert. "May we?" At the head medic's nod, the Autobot leader led the young prisoner out.

As they exited the medical bay, Drift looked at the red semi in confusion. "No stasis cuffs? No leading me off to the stockade?"

"I get the feeling they won't be needed. And if you decided to run off, you wouldn't get far anyway, between me and my security detail."

A nod. "That doesn't surprise me." The two continued down the hallway, windows to their left giving them a clear view of the Iacon skyline and prompting Drift to make quick glances at it. "I've never seen that before. Iacon, I mean. I never even thought I'd see it."

"There are times when I think even the best of us take it for granted."

"That doesn't surprise me either." Realizing he sounded a bit too bitter, he quickly added, "Sorry, but…"

"Don't apologize, I understand what you meant." Optimus looked to the younger mech and explained, "I know your story, Drift. I've seen it many times, and I expect it's as common on other worlds as it is on this one. It doesn't excuse what you've done, but it certainly helps to explain it."

A sad nod. "I wanted a better world. Megatron said he could give it to me. Obviously, he hasn't."

"Ironically, many of the things that Megatron wanted to do have happened. We've expanded to other worlds, we've increased the size of our military, but they happened because he went renegade, not because he encouraged it. And those under him have hardly received the benefits."

"And something tells me that many of the mechs not under him haven't gotten many themselves." Drift looked at Optimus with some bitterness. "There's still empties out there, for one reason or another."

"The unemployed and homeless are a part of every society, Drift. The most civilization can do is give them a chance to play an active role – it's up to them to decide what they want to do, or how they want to apply themselves. I can't force them to do anything, for obvious reasons, only give them a chance."

The younger mech nodded sadly. He wanted to come up with a counter-argument, but he doubted that anything he could think of would be effective, especially given the saying that the Autobot leader was most famous for. "I suppose my chance has been wasted then, given all I've done, the mechs I've killed."

"Not necessarily." At Drift's surprised look, Optimus explained, "You said that you can help us to rescue the hostages that Clench took. There isn't a mech in the judiciary that wouldn't take that into consideration."

"But I'd still go to the stockades, wouldn't I? That wouldn't absolve me of my crimes."

"No, but aiding us would help to absolve your conscience."

Drift looked out over the Iacon skyline again. Two mega-cycles ago, he didn't feel any guilt about what he'd done. Now was another matter; he had a lot of atoning to do, and he wouldn't let anyone else die if he could help it. "That it would." He turned back to Optimus. "Alright. Take me to whoever I need to see. I'll tell you everything I know."

Under his faceplate, the Autobot leader smiled. "Come with me."

-

Lockdown slowed to a halt in front of the Dojo as he transformed and looked over the place. The structure itself hadn't suffered significant damage, and save for the front doors having been broken down and the presence of the holographic barriers in front, a casual observer would have an easy time thinking the place was the same as it always was. Still, he was anything but a casual observer. Despite himself, the Decepticon huffed and shook his head. "You just had to stick your neck out, Sensei." A faint sound hit his audials, and he quickly smirked. "Easy there, mechs. I ain't crossing the barrier; I know a crime scene when I see it."

"We can't be too careful, now can we?" The hunter turned to find Prowl standing nearby, one rifle at the ready and pointed at his chest while the other was stored away, waiting to be used. "I wouldn't be surprised if a mech like you decided to snatch up a souvenir to remember your old master."

Lockdown wasn't eager to test the security officer and maintained a neutral expression. "Don't need a souvenir. Sensei wasn't the kind to forget any of his students; odds are he left something for me in his will. Between that and chasing down the mechs responsible for this, I'll be fine." A smirk forming, he added, "Besides, something tells me someone from the Corps has already been by to clean out the weapons cache. Probably Jazz or Heavy Load, maybe Springer, but whoever took them, there's still no point trying if all the good stuff is gone. I just wanted to catch sight of this place one last time."

The security bot's optics narrowed, but he lowered his gun. "Leave Clench and his group to us, Lockdown. One mech alone can't take them, and there's no set bounty."

The hunter laughed. "You think my only motivation is money, Prowl? Believe it or not, mechs like me do have standards." He transformed and revved his engine, calling out before speeding off, "And who said anything about me taking them on alone?!"

Prowl watched the bounty hunter depart, shaking his head with some disbelief. As disinclined towards trust and understanding as he was, he could never figure out how a bounty hunter's processor worked, and he was probably better off not knowing.

-

"Odds are good that Clench and Mindwipe's group is still hiding in Uraya. Leaving that sector is going to be hazardous no matter when they do it, and aside from that, they know the terrain." A holographic representation of the city state appeared before the gathered mechs as Quickstrike elaborated, "Nonetheless, that doesn't make it any easier to find them. The nanotech tracking devices we used before are all but useless after all this time, and it's doubtful the same trick could work twice." He turned to Drift. "That leaves you to point us in the proper direction."

The former Decepticon looked at the gathered Autobots, the strategist first, before asking the obvious question. "You're all willing to trust me to give you the answer you need?"

Checkpoint raised the obvious explanation. "At this point, we don't have many options. Besides, helping us is in your best interest, unless you actually want to spend the rest of eternity locked in stasis."

The young mech knew full well that he deserved a lot of things, but he doubted that particular fate was one of them. He looked over the projection, considering where his former allies could be. "Can you zoom in on the southern quadrants?" Quickstrike complied, and he explained, "We stick to the tunnels when we can, but when we have to break for the surface, we'd go for the shortest, quickest routes we can to neighboring territories. And the closest one that would get us to anything even remotely approaching safety is here, close to the Neutral Territories. Most mechs there would be perfectly willing to turn a blind optic to anyone." The projection zoomed in on the shortest bridge connecting the two portions of Cybertron. "And we tended to rotate between three hideouts in the area, all abandoned structures. Can you highlight the ones I point to?" At the strategist's nod, Drift pointed out the buildings. "That's the most I can give you."

"That's better than where we started." Checkpoint turned to the young mech, a genuine smile on his face. "It must take a lot for you to help us like this. Thank you."

"A while ago, it would have been impossible." Regret on his face, Drift asked, "I don't suppose you have an old, unsolved case where a trio of Autobot security officers and a nameless mech were found dead, all killed with standard issue weapons, do you?"

"We've had a strong suspect for a long time, actually. A few public defenders are even willing to take it in court and help that suspect, given what had been done by said security officers." At Drift's surprised look, the security officer explained, "Gasket wasn't the only one those officers killed, and that mech they'd taken in wasn't the only one they'd been brutal towards. It doesn't make what you did any less wrong, but it doesn't make them candidates for Prime."

Drift looked at the gathered Autobots, thinking about how they'd treated him despite him confirming this crime while being guilty of others, and found himself perplexed. He finally looked at Optimus and asked, "How could those mechs have the same badge as you?"

"There are a number of Decepticons who ask the same about Megatron." Deciding that there were more important things to worry about, the Autobot leader got them back on topic. "In any case, we need some method of finding their exact location. If we hit one of the other two, then there's a strong chance that they'll simply kill the hostages and run off faster than before. We need a method that will work."

"Or maybe you just need another hostage." Heads turned as Drift explained, "Clench thinks I'm dead. He finds out I'm alive, and he'll definitely want to rectify that mistake, and he'd prioritize catching me over killing the hostages he's got."

Checkpoint looked at his prisoner in disbelief. "You realize that if this goes wrong, you'll die along with our mechs."

"And if it goes right, then all of them live." Heads turned as Hot Zone entered with short, unsteady steps. "And if we don't try, then our mechs die. I'm not gonna let that happen if I can help it."

Not about to argue with his commanding officer, especially in front of his overall superior, the police semi turned to Drift and asked, "I'm guessing you have a plan?"

A small smile appeared on the former Decepticon's face. "The start of one."

-

"I still think that simply killing them is the preferable option, if you aren't going to bother to interrogate them properly."

"And by 'interrogate them properly' I assume you mean let you have a go at them with your fancy hypnotic powers?" Clench laughed, brushing off Mindwipe's suggestion. He'd had his prisoners left in suspense for several cycles, and he was enjoying leaving them there a little longer. "If I wanted information out of them, I'd have done that. It's a lot more fun to simply let 'em stew in their own fluids and hang on to whatever slivers of hope they have left."

A quirked optic ridge. "Until you finally decide to kill them?"

"Nah. Until I get the information I want." The sharp scuttling of metallic limbs alerted them to another presence, and the mobster glanced down to find Scalpel approaching, a component from Pyro's weapon in his tiny claws. "Hi Doctor. What's your diagnosis?"

"Thiz iz most interesting!" Holding up the part, he explained, "I haff found traces of nanotech constructs in ze weapon!"

"Nanotech, eh? You scan my mechs for them?"

"Indeed! I haff found nanotech transmitters embedded in Terradive and Jetblade's armor! A countermeasure can easily be applied!"

"That does explain how your unit was located so quickly." Mindwipe looked to Clench and asked, "Now, are you satisfied enough to simply kill the Autobots, or will you let Lord Megatron have that pleasure?"

The emerald Decepticon chuckled darkly. "Why let him spoil my fun?"

Before Mindwipe could chide the larger Decepticon for his apparent immaturity, he was distracted, a message coming in on his secure link. :"Mindwipe, I've got a reading outside; it's Deadlock's spark signature. Either someone's faking him being alive, or we didn't quite kill him properly. Any complaint about taking him out?":

The hypnotist briefly considered mentioning his findings to Clench, but kept them to himself. :"None whatsoever.":

-

Had he a mouth, Skystalker would've grinned at the thought of his next course of action. This was what he loved most – swooping down out of the sky, snatching up helpless victims, then either delivering them painfully into the clutches of his partner or sending them careening to their deaths from a terrible height. Admittedly, that was much more difficult to do with the average Cybertronian, but multiple attempts would get the job done well enough.

Sensors primed, he swept over the area, catching sight of Deadlock. His coloration had changed slightly, but his alt-mode and spark signature remained the same. How he was still alive wasn't a shocker – Axor was never thorough. His being repaired was no surprise either, given the way the Autobots tended to treat prisoners. His being out and about was a surprise, but he'd quickly regret escaping.

Stealth systems online, Skystalker leapt from his perch and transformed, his engines going silent as he swooped through the air and crept up behind his unsuspecting victim. He'd done it a million times, and he'd do it a million times more. And each time would be sweeter than…

Quicker than a flash, Drift transformed and drew two short swords, spinning about and jamming them into his former comrade's jet intakes. He skidded to a halt and flipped backwards, regaining his footing as Skystalker cried out in terror and transformed, hobbling about on his feet before the former Decepticon slapped him hard in the chest. Growling, the stealth operative finally tore the swords from his legs and drew his axes, stopping just long enough for Drift to produce a small remote. "Careful, this is a dead mech's switch." His lone optic shutter widening at that phrase, he looked down at his chest to find a second device, a flashing red light upon it, giving the larger mech time to explain, "I don't press a button on this thing every five kliks, and you'll suddenly find yourself with a hole in your chest big enough to stick your arm through. And this thing has three buttons." Retrieving one of his swords, Drift pointed it and stated, "You and Mindwipe are linked at the hip joint. He's with Clench. I think you can do the math."

-

The hatch to their hideout slid open, and Skystalker tossed the prone form of Drift inside, the larger mech skidding to a halt at Clench and Mindwipe's surprised feet. Before the two could begin to ask what was going on, he called out, "Call the doctor! I've got a bomb on my chest!"

Clench snapped his fingers, Scalpel immediately scuttling over while he leaned down and picked up his former subordinate's prone form. "Looks like Deadlock's gotten himself a slight makeover. Here I'd hoped he was in Autobot custody. Or better, dead." He decided against commenting on Mindwipe's obvious subterfuge and called out, "Doctor, your prognosis?"

"Explosive device!" On getting the dead mech's switch from Skystalker, the tiny Decepticon explained further, "Three buttons! One makes it go boom! One delays boom! Last one deactivates device!" Examining it, he added, "Buttons unlabeled!"

Not pleased at that answer, Clench suggested, "Well, press one and find out what happens." Ignoring Skystalker's terrified expression, he continued, "Two in three chances we don't end up with a dead mech on our hands."

"Hold. There's a simpler solution." Mindwipe reached down and picked up Drift's body. A small jolt, and the mech had regained consciousness. "Much better." His optics glowing, he asked, "Now, which button deactivates the device?"

The answer was immediate. "The middle one."

Mindwipe realized a nano-klik too late that the answer had come a little too fast, as Scalpel pressed the designated button and his subject's optics went dark. The device on Skystalker's chest stopped flashing, only to suddenly erupt with light, blinding the four Decepticons and causing the hypnotist to release Drift, who landed and drew his swords. As his optics came back online, he turned to deal with Clench first just as Skystalker charged, axes drawn, and drew his attention elsewhere. The larger of the two stealthy Decepticons chuckled at this. "Foolish mech. We operate best in the dark. Clench, you and the Doctor had best deal with our prisoners. We'll handle Deadlock."

Clench considered protested, but opted against it, slowly making his way out of the room. "Just don't slag him, alright? I want to do that myself."

Ruby daggers deployed from Mindwipe's limbs as he and Skystalker circled their former comrade. "You have been fortunate so far, young mech, but your fortune has run out. Few mechs could counter my abilities; Yoketron was one of them, thanks to processor-over-matter, but I doubt that he has taught you that skill. You'll not fare long against the two of us, and brute strength should more than suffice in dealing with you."

His optics shifted uneasily between the two stealth mechs. Even when he was Deadlock, Drift wasn't stupid enough to try fighting them, and temporarily blinding the pair had only removed Mindwipe's hypnotic powers from the equation. The odds were still pretty poor.

Then Skystalker found himself with a hook going around his waist, his legs lopped off and his upper half kicked away. "Y'know something, Mindwipe? Sensei was always pretty firm about the whole 'look before you leap' thing." A smug look on his face, Lockdown strode forward and asked, "Need a servo, kid?"

Drift grinned back. "I'll take what I can get." Him against the two Decepticons was one thing. Him and Lockdown against Mindwipe? That was a whole other story.

-

:"Crankcase, Jetblade, Terradive, this is Clench. Kill the prisoners.":

Crankcase's optics rolled as the line went out. "Wonderful. First we don't kill them and take them prisoner, now we're killing them. Why couldn't we have just killed them from the start?"

"Slagging good question, but not something I'm worried about." Trident in hand, Terradive led his comrades towards where the two Autobot prisoners were being kept. "So which one do we take out first, the chatty one or the mute?"

Jetblade eagerly chimed in with his opinion. "I say the chatty one! He's funny, but he gets annoying after a while." Rocket launchers in hand, he added, "Let's just make sure he's properly dead, hmm? Take him apart piece by piece or something."

"Oh, as if we can't tell the difference. I worked in waste management, and I can tell you, you don't have to be Deadlift to spot a corpse."

A quirked optic from the white and blue VTOL craft. "I thought Deadlift was on the other side."

A groan. "He is. Slagging little mortician's probably laughing at me right now."

The hatch to the holding cell opened, and the three looked in at the two prisoners. Catching sight of their new visitors, Pyro looked up and exclaimed, "It's about time! Now, if you're going to execute us, better do it properly – we demand a last request!"

Electricity charging between the prongs of his weapon, the orange jet trod forward slowly. "Sorry, I don't do requests."

The fire engine looked unfazed, flashing a manic grin. "Oh, but I've got a good one! You don't even have to get me anything, honest!"

An aggravated groan, and Terradive rolled his optics. "Fine! What is it?!"

Pyro tipped his head towards his partner. "Listen to him."

Streetwise's tone and facial features remained neutral, but his next words nonetheless sounded slightly smug. "Incoming."

An explosion sounded above them, and the three looked up with just enough time to see Landquake come crashing down from above, fully armed and armored up. The bulky Autobot landed and knocked Crankcase and Jetblade aside, following it up by firing his lone missile at the surprised Terradive. The way cleared, Armorhide then jumped down and waved to their associates with his free hand, the other holding his rifle. "Hi mechs! Sorry to keep you hanging!"

The ebon Autobot interceptor opted to let the bad joke slide as the stasis cuffs were deactivated and their manacles removed. "How'd you find us?"

"Deadlock defected, long story." Producing replacements for the two mech's weapons, Landquake noted, "I think you'll be needing these."

As Pyro fitted his new cannon into place, Streetwise caught his new photon pistol. "He led you here willingly?"

"He came up with the whole plan, tracking device and all." Nudging down the corridor, the large Autobot suggested, "You two better go and back him up. We'll take care of these three."

-

Even with the slight advantage of a blinded opponent and Lockdown's help, Drift couldn't help but think that he could've used a little more time under Yoketron's tutelage. As sharp and as fast as he and his fellow student were, Mindwipe was just as fast, and his ruby daggers just as sharp. After what had felt like an eternity of blade strikes being traded, the Decepticon hypnotist broke his silence and spoke. "Do you really wish to waste your time with me, Deadlock? Axor killed Yoketron. Clench allowed it to happen. What is the better course; fighting me, or ending –?"

Mindwipe was interrupted as a stasis bolt shot into his back, instantly knocking out his systems. His opponents looked up to find Pyro and Streetwise standing opposite them, the latter keeping his weapons raised while the former lowered his. "Well, that takes care of that quandary, doesn't it?" It took a nano-klik for him to recognize the former Decepticon, but Pyro soon offered, "Deadlock? If you've got unfinished business, go ahead and take it. We can clean up here easy enough."

With some relief that his former adversary didn't seem to hold any hard feelings, the young mech answered, "It's Drift now, but no thanks. I came to get you two free, not get revenge."

Lockdown managed a dry chuckle and countered, "Word of advice, proto, but there's a world of difference between justice and revenge. And frankly, gettin' them off the streets now is a lot better than doin' it later."

"But we don't know where they…"

:"Rescue team, this is Searchlight – I've got a visual on Axor and Slicer. They're at the southern end of the compound.":

Drift suddenly found himself with mixed feelings about being linked with the Autobots' radio broadcasts. "Alright, never mind. We're on the eastern end. Follow me." The others swiftly started following him as he made his way through the corridors. "By the way, about earlier? I obviously…"

Pyro cheerfully interrupted. "Apology accepted! By the way, good name change!"

Drift smiled. "Thanks, but it's the one I started with! Long story!"

Streetwise could already see where this was going, and they had bigger problems on the horizon. "Tell us later!"

As the rest made their way out, Lockdown broke off, taking his own route out. The kid and the Autobots would still need his help, but a little surprise went a long way.

-

Clench's optic sensors were recovering, albeit slowly, but even without them, he knew the layout of this compound enough to know where to find his weapons stash. Pulling out a shield and a long barreled pulse rifle from his locker, he found himself looking down at the far less fortunate Scalpel, the medic furiously skittering about and clawing at his optics. "Calm down and climb up on something, Doc, or you'll just get stepped on."

If the tiny medic had heard him, he certainly didn't acknowledge him. "MEIN OPTICS! I CANNOT SEE!"

The Decepticon colossus rolled his optics, carefully picking up the disabled mech with his free hand. There was still a fight to be won, but he wasn't about to just step on one of his comrades. Not nearly enough time to clean up the mess for one thing, and he was too useful to just leave behind. "Icepick, this is Clench. Don't know whether you've noticed, but we've got company. Meet up with me – we're getting the frag out of this mess." Not even waiting for the reply, he switched to another channel. "Axor, Slicer, we're leaving. Clear a path for us."

:"We are doing zis, my liege, but…!":

"But?"

-

"But it will be taking a while!" Cutting off the line, Slicer looked up from behind his cover and called out to the Autobot attackers. "Silly Autobot security types! You cannot catch me! Now go away, before I taunt you some more!"

A stasis bolt between the optics, and the oddly-accented Decepticon went down, Stakeout managing a smug grin. "Gotcha!"

"About slagging time you shut him up!" Rotors clashing against his opponent's weapon, Blades continued pounding against Axor, neither one letting up against the other. The Autobot finally finished things by roping up the Decepticon's legs with his winch, tightening the noose and sending him falling onto his back. Detaching his rotors, Blades planted a foot on his opponent's chest and raised his blade up, more than ready to deliver the killing blow. "Any last words?"

"Yeah." Axor lanced off a few quick shots with his EMP cannon, stunning both Autobots. As Blades fell, he regained his footing and snarked, "If you're gonna kill a mech, do it. Don't waste their time or yours."

"Couldn't have said it better myself." Axor turned as Clench emerged, Icepick and a now calmer Scalpel in tow. "Now, let's get out of here before their friends decide to show up and…" Weapons came online behind him, prompting Clench to turn his head and take note of his pursuers. "Well, that was quick." He turned. "Like the new look, Deadlock, but the swords don't suit you."

"They suit me just fine." Pyro and Streetwise raising their weapons in the corners of his optics, Drift kept his swords at the ready. "All of you get one chance. Surrender."

"Surrender?! To a traitor like you?!" Stepping forward with indignation in his optics, Icepick called out, "How dare you betray us like this, Deadlock?! How dare you betray Megatron?! If Lugnut were here, he –!"

"If Lugnut were here, I'd still be doing this!" His raised voice getting silence from the Decepticon, the young mech continued, "Ever take a nano-klik to look at the world around you, Icepick?! In case you hadn't noticed, it hasn't gotten better since Megatron started his glorious revolution! Chaos reigns in the streets! Innocent mechs are killed! The Decepticons as a faction have been tarnished by him! What good did it do for Master Yoketron to die, Icepick?! He was an Autobot, fine, but he was no soldier! Whatever ideals Megatron may have held at the start, he's not following them, and I refuse to be a pawn for a petty tyrant any longer!"

An uneasy silence followed, broken only by Clench breaking out in laughter. "Oh, this is rich! Axor!"

The Decepticon hunter sprinted around his superior, EMP cannon firing. All three of his targets dodged, the hunter preparing another round of fire just as a low-slung muscle car charged and slammed into him head-on from one side of the compound. As his opposite recovered, Lockdown transformed and grinned. "Never quite got used to being aware of your surroundings, Axor!" Hook ready, he called to his allies, "You have your fun with the rest! This guy's all mine!"

The odds now clearly back in their favor, Pyro and Streetwise opened fire, knocking Icepick out and sending Scalpel flying from the force of impact. The stasis bolts did absolutely no good against Clench, however, and the Decepticon colossus opened fire, forcing them to move to one side and reload with different weapons as Drift engaged his former commander. Still laughing as the former Decepticon's swords barely scratched his shield, he asked, "You had to go and fall for all that mushy Autobot goodness, didn't you? Slagging little idealists like you are the worst, Deadlock, especially when they're on the other side!"

Axe lodged in his opponent's hook, Axor found himself staring into Lockdown's face, his tone indicating his pleasure. "Always wanted to cross paths with you! You're a legend!"

The bounty hunter didn't share his amusement. "And you're a knock-off!" A grin formed on his face, and Lockdown admitted, "Decent weapons, though! What's that axe made of, tritanium? That had to be hard to come by! And where'd you get that EMP cannon, anyway?!"

A laugh. "Swiped it out of a development plant! Medibots thought they'd use it as a medical tool!" He aimed the weapon and fired, knocking out the mech before him. "Fortunately, I'm using it a little more effectively." He shook Lockdown's hook loose, only for the hook to wrap around the weapon and cut through it, destroying it.

As Axor stumbled back in shock, Lockdown came back online and noted, "Redundant systems. Always a good idea. Now, what else you got?"

The grey hunter growled and opened his subspace pocket. What emerged was instantly recognizable to any student of Yoketron, a long sword with a glowing blue gem turbine in its crossguard, its blade crackling with energy even as Axor took hold of it. "Like it? Picked it off an antiques dealer in Tyrest. Mech didn't know what he had, and he never will!" Energy crackling along the Great Sword like lightning, the hunter attacked, his opponent forced to weave side to side in order to survive.

Still behind cover, Pyro and Streetwise had finished reloading their weapons, quickly emerging to take a few quick shots at Clench but unable to penetrate his armor. The pair ducked back behind cover, Pyro summing it up as best he could. "Well, that was brilliant! Where's Landquake when you need him?!"

"Probably making sure everyone else is taken care of!" A quick analysis of what he'd seen of the armor, and Streetwise noted, "Still, calling him in wouldn't be a bad idea! That glitter effect on his armor?! It's probably laced with Furmanite!"

"Definitely explains the oil-lust then!" Pyro brought his comm.-link online. "Autobots, this is Pyro, requesting backup, I repeat, requesting…!" The familiar hiss of static blocked the signal, and he realized, "Interference! The destroyed EMP cannon?!"

The Autobot interceptor glanced towards the weapon that Lockdown was trying so hard to avoid, and realized their problem wasn't the ruined gun. "Something else!"

Indeed, the Great Sword in Axor's hand was crackling with electric blue light, the feedback already beginning to accumulate into its wielder's hand. Just as the hunter laughed at the power he was wielding, either unaware of the consequences of his actions or uncaring, he found himself hit with a stasis bolt in the back, the sword dropping from his hand as he fell. The electricity died down, and Streetwise took advantage of the end of interference to activate his comm.-link. "Searchlight, this is Streetwise! Copy?!"

:"Reading you and seeing you loud and clear! You need help?!":

"Roger that!"

Even as that small victory had occurred, the group still had one more problem as Clench batted Drift to the ground with his shield, finally pinning him in place at his chest with one end as he locked weapons on the two Autobots. "Now you stay put, and don't bother struggling! You can't break through this shield with those little trimmers!"

Drift briefly considered struggling, but soon halted. He needed to keep himself relaxed, think calmly and coolly, and listen to what Yoketron had taught him, otherwise…

His optics found the Great Sword, and he suddenly realized what he needed. "Lockdown! The Great Sword!"

A smirk crossed the bounty hunter's face as he picked up the sword and tossed it. "One step ahead of you!"

The blade landed within reach of Drift's right hand, prompting him to drop his smaller blades and take hold of it. As its energies reactivated again with the touch of a Cybertronian, Clench looked down and scoffed. "You think that'll help?! Come on!"

Taking the sword in both hands and angling it, the former Decepticon smiled. "Like you said, Clench! A mech's gotta know his limitations!" He then stabbed the blade forward and up, cutting right through the shield and penetrating his former commander's arm, a cry of pain rewarding him as the electrical energies in the sword tore through the Decepticon colossus' internals. Within a few nano-kliks, the energies drove Clench's internals to their breaking point, and a massive explosion engulfed both mechs, the three onlookers turning away as it hit.

The blast quickly subsided, Clench stumbling back with scorch marks present on most of his frame, his left arm practically destroyed below the elbow, bits and pieces of his shield and the still-intact Great Sword littering the ground around him. Drift, meanwhile, was similarly scorched, but still in one piece, slowly regaining his footing with swords in hand. "By the way? Deadlock's dead. If he wasn't, you would be. You've just gotten a taste of what Drift can do."

The massive Decepticon swayed on his feet, shaken and far more damaged by what had happened than he appeared. "Slagging…little…glitch…" His optics finally flickered off, and he collapsed, stasis lock taking hold of him.

Similarly exhausted, Drift dropped to his knees, his allies gathering to help him. The battle was hard-fought, but nonetheless, it had been won.

-

There was one part of being a member of the Autobot Security Forces that Checkpoint didn't like; the paperwork. Granted, by comparison to the rest, it was easiest and posed the least risk to anyone on the force, but it was nonetheless tedious, and it was easily the last thing that he wanted to do. Still, it had to be done, and he at least had the pleasure of recording some good news for a change. Two mega-cycles ago, they'd apprehended six Decepticons loyal to Megatron, effectively taking out an entire cell. Now, they'd added another four to that tally, not including the mech formerly known as Deadlock. All in all, the world was a better place now.

A small knock at his desk, and he looked up to find Hot Zone standing over him. "Nice to see you're keeping up with the paperwork. I hear you did some good things while I was in repair bay."

"Only what you'd have done in my place." The SWAT truck leaned back from his desk and asked, "Something on your processor?"

The older mech flexed his joints, still feeling some pain from his injuries. "I hate to say it, Checkpoint, but I'm starting to feel old. And as much as I enjoy this work, I'm starting to think I need to leave being the mech in charge to someone else who won't get into the same scrapes that I do."

Checkpoint looked at his superior with clear shock. "You're kidding. Hot Zone, you've got a lot of experience, fine, but you're hardly getting old. Besides, I don't see me inspiring the troops like you have."

"Better a commander who won't take crazy risks this high up in the chain than a dead inspiration, is it? Besides, something tells me I'll find a way to keep busy, and it's long past time I stepped aside and let another mech take the lead. Who better than you?"

A few odd ideas went through his mind, ways to try and encourage his superior to stay, but all of them were quickly discarded. Hot Zone wasn't one to be discouraged. "Have you talked with Optimus about this yet?"

"He's wishing he could do the same, but he doesn't object to it."

"Atlas will."

"Atlas complains about anything and everything. He's far too stubborn for his own good. It'll be a miracle if one of us doesn't end up fragging him, a bigger one if he actually has anyone willingly attend his memorial. We'd have to go, obviously, but…"

"But we won't be enjoying it." Checkpoint rose to his feet and extended his hand. "You're certainly going out on a high note. Thank you, Hot Zone. If I'm even half the mech you were in this position, I still wouldn't be enough."

Hot Zone accepted the hand with a laugh. "That's just you being nice. You'll be fine, and you're coming in on a high note. Just don't thank me yet." He tipped his head towards a monitor, messages speaking of a raging fire and a trainee having gone missing. "Something tells me you're about to have a world of trouble."

A sad laugh, and Checkpoint shook his head. "It never gets easier."

-

He knew this moment would come. He'd accepted it once he found himself in the repair bay at Iacon, and had no delusions that he could avoid it, or desire to do so. Still, facing this moment, his arms bound by stasis cuffs, the beam of light shining down from above like divine judgment and the nearly invisible expressions of the tribunal, was not an easy thing. But what good was redemption if it was handed out to anyone?

"Drift. Before joining Megatron and taking the name Deadlock, you were responsible for the deaths of three officers of the Autobot Security Forces. During your time in Megatron's services, you took part in numerous attacks on positions across Cybertron. You are charged with conspiracy, willful destruction of property, and murder. How do you plead?"

The mech's answer was immediate. "Guilty."

The light dimmed, and Drift's optics quickly adjusted, allowing him to see the tribunal in greater detail. "You present us with a small quandary. You did not start as a Decepticon, and only took on the insignia after joining Megatron's forces. Had you started as a regular Decepticon, instead of being a neutral mech, you would have been eligible for amnesty under the guidelines established by Lord Straxus. Nonetheless, we have received testimony from several individuals high in the Autobot chain of command, as far up as Optimus Prime himself, speaking in your favor. This tribunal now asks you if you feel you deserve a mitigated sentence."

"I don't. Many of the deaths I caused were the result of blind aggression or youthful stupidity, exaggerated by my own limited world view. I'm not that mech anymore, but that doesn't mean that my actions should be ignored. Whatever sentence I'm given, I will serve to completion, for the sake of both justice and my own spark."

Some small murmurs formed among the tribunal's members, their head finally speaking. "Very well. You shall be judged for your actions, Drift. As stated, you have killed three officers from the Autobot Security Forces, but your recent actions have saved three more, all of whom have testified on your behalf. You fought many battles against Autobots and Decepticons, and but most recently have helped in the locating and capture of several of your former associates. No actions that are directly attributed to you have been linked to the deaths of civilians, and you have not committed any clear war crimes. Your better deeds do not absolve you of your crimes, but they do incline us towards a lighter sentence; you can do far more good to Cybertron and its people among them than you can within a stasis cell." A chime sounded. "Your sentence is twenty stellar cycles in community service. You will be placed in the observation of a parole officer, and will be expected to report in immediately with said officer at any time. You will be monitored for that period. Should you commit any further crimes, you will be given a new trial and confined, any further punishment added to your current sentence. Do you understand?"

Drift was genuinely surprised, but quickly regained himself. "I do."

"Very well. This tribunal is dismissed." What light there was on the tribunal faded out, a court officer approaching and deactivating both the forcefield surrounding Drift as well as his bonds. The officer gestured out the way the former prisoner had come, and the young mech did as instructed and left.

Immediately outside of the courtroom, Drift found himself greeted by several mechs, all of whom he knew. With an impressed chuckle, Lockdown noted, "You got off lucky, proto. Someone obviously wants you to have a second chance."

The younger mech shook his head. "Yoketron-sensei gave me my second chance. All this has done is give me a chance to make use of it. Anyway, why are you here? I'd have thought whatever bounty there was in bringing in my former teammates would leave you comfortable for the rest of your cycles."

The bounty hunter dismissively waved. "Partial credit on Mindwipe, Skystalker and Axor only went so far, just enough for me to get started on my own version of that wannabe's EMP cannon. I'm here for something else." With a loose grip on the hilt, Lockdown drew a Great Sword from his subspace pocket and handed it to his fellow disciple. "Wish I could say it was Sensei's sword, but some other mech inherited that one. You'll have to settle for the one you used on Clench. You definitely use it better than he ever could, though. You've obviously learned what Sensei was trying to teach you."

The former Decepticon took up the sword with both hands and admitted, "Among others. I'm going to need some way to carry this without having to hold it over my shoulder or something, though."

A chuckle. "I can point you towards some mechs who do bodywork easy enough." He turned and waved, making his way out. "Be seeing you, proto! Keep your grill clean, though; I don't want to be the one dragging your sorry aft back here!"

Drift doubted that he'd get the chance, and that the next time they'd meet, it was likely that they'd be on the same side, if not simply hanging out somewhere. That settled, he turned to the second of the two mechs. "I never considered you the quiet sort, or the patient one. I never got your name either."

A cheerful grin spread across the fire engine's face. "Well, you didn't have a reason to before now. Name's Pyro." He then held up the short swords that the former Decepticon had been given. "And I think these are yours now, Drift."

"Thank you." One hand carefully holding the Great Sword downward, the young mech took up the new blades one at a time and sheathed them at his hips. "Why so willing to forgive, though? Before all of this, I was just another Decepticon."

"You aren't one now. You aren't even a Decepticon anymore. Mechs change, and if a mech wants to change for the better, then I say, let them. Besides, this isn't the first time something like that's happened." At the former Decepticon's curious look, the Autobot explained, "Ways ago, there was an Autobot named Spark. Early on, he wasn't interested in fighting or combat, but one cycle, he saw something that inspired him to fight, an act so brave and noble that he wanted to be talked about for that same thing. Modified himself a lot after that, even changed his name to evoke the mech that saved his life. Eventually, though, he realized that while he enjoyed what he was doing, helping the helpless and all that, he wasn't motivated by what the mech who inspired him in the first place was. He wanted glory, but what good is glory if people didn't actually like you?"

An optic ridge arched on Drift's face. "Plus you were in no rush to die."

A nod. "That, and I figured it was better to make my own fame than piggy-back off someone else's. Besides, it's no fun being something you're not." He leaned in close and whispered, "Between you and me, though, I think Pyro is the better name. Spark just doesn't have the same ring to it. Of course, there are worse; Dipstick, Erector, Borehole…"

"And that middle one could kick your aft from here to the outer edge and back." An unfamiliar mech approached, his armor colored grey, gold, black and varying shades of green, the darkest on his chest, arms and head crest. With a cavalier grin and confident swagger, he approached Pyro and suggested, "Now, you mind giving me a little time with my parolee? I've got better things to do today than stand around and hear you prattle."

The fire engine whispered a wish of good luck before he departed, leaving Drift alone with his parole officer. "You look familiar somehow."

"I should. I've got a bust in the dojo. Sensei taught me everything I know about using a sword; I figure there's no better mech qualified to finish what he started with you." The green mech offered a hand. "Name's Springer."

Drift accepted the hand. He wasn't sure if he deserved all of this, given what he'd done, but he knew full well that being dead wouldn't help anything, especially him. He'd have never foreseen him doing it with the Autobots, but he had his second chance now, and he was going to make the most of it.


The End