Beast Wars and all related belong to Hasbro. The story, its original contents and ideas, and any original characters belong to the author and cannot be used or reprinted without the author's permission.

Disclaimer: No money, no rights, no life. I own all original characters unless otherwise specified.

Dedications: Like usual, the story is dedicated to the writers for their excellent work. It's also dedicated to all the voice actors, especially David Sobolov and Campbell Lane, for bringing these wonderful characters (especially my favourites) to life. As well as the writers of Beast Wars, it's also for the people I love in hopes that this will show that one day I can do something better.

Author's notes: Well, this it - the turning point. In its first state, there was a lot of the same ideas, but not enough cohesion to hold the story together. I ended up taking a step back from it for a time, reflecting on what worked and didn't work. Then, like the previous chapter, Air Lock started chitchatting in my head again, which resulted in this being longer, more in depth, and not just focused upon what Misery and her team were doing.

Epoch:

A Dangerous Mind

Joshin Yasha (joshinyasha at yahoo dot com)

"You ever stop to think that what we're doing may kill us in the long run?"

"What'd you say?" Stricture asked. Crossing the room to step up behind his wingmate, he draped his arms over the back of the chair and stared at the screen.

Having wired himself to the computer for a simpler way of processing data, Taciturn was typing furiously with only his mind while his body rested comfortably in his chair. With unmoving lips, his voice filtered through the speakers, "I was saying, do you ever think maybe releasing Xyston is a bad idea? Considering the last time we saw him he tried to eat us."

"Would you want to be left for dead and treated as an experiment for the rest of your immortal life?" the silver and blue Decepticon began reading the screen, catching brief bits of information as his red and black counterpart worked hastily with his telemetry. "It's better for us to release the poor bastard now than to let him get out on his own. He only tried to kill us because he was disoriented and thought Misery had betrayed him. This is our chance to make amends and prove we're still on his side. Better to be allied with the Fallen than under his heel, I always say."

"When have you ever once said that?" Taciturn glanced over his pauldron, a clear smirk on his face. The computer's speakers continued to speak for him, "Every once in a while you say something intelligent, and I think you might just have what it takes to be second to our captain."

Stricture chose to disregard his companion's comment while dropping into the seat next to Taciturn, returning instead to their previous modus operandi. "It was pure luck that Esoteric was involved with TRUNDLE."

"Misery did good," Taciturn smirked and licked as his still non-speaking lips. "Everything's about ready. The countdown has been set for one-point-five orns. You have your access code for the TRUNDLE building, right?"

"Yeah," he nodded affirmatively, then gestured with his helm that he was curious. "Just remember what Misery told you and don't engage the twins without backup. There's no telling what Air Raid might have told them about us."

"This is ridiculous." The red and black male began snarling with narrowed eyes. "I want to tear them apart. Those retched Autobot-sired of Air Raid's will pay for what he did to us. I'll smelt them both to the tallest walls I can find just as soon as I get my hands on them." In emphasis, the pores opened in his hands and flares sputtered into the space around him.

"You'll do well to remember that Misery's word goes. Besides," Stricture grinned, wrapped his arms around Taciturn's pauldrons, and chuckled mischievously, "I'd hate to see her have to get rid of you. I'm only now getting used to you."

The red and black Decepticon gave the other a skeptical grin.

The second stood up, ran his eyes over the screen, and then mused, "You realize that if things go as planned, then we're going to have over ten thousand bodies on our hands."

"Correction," Taciturn puckered his mouth in thought, then smirked once more, "Xyston will be doing most of the killing . . . Hn? What's this?"

"What's what?" Stricture leaned over his wing mate's pauldrons. "Oh, it's a message."

"It's from Machiavellian," Taciturn narrowed his red eyes disapprovingly, "I thought we agreed upon radio silence."

"It must be important for him to break silence then," the gold, silver, and blue Decepticon tilted his head, watching as the message flashed across the monitor, was instantly dissected by Taciturn, and then the underlying code of the message displayed as it was meant to be.

"He wants to meet Misery in private." Taciturn cocked his head to the side, "Says for you to bring her to Ward Six in fifteen cycles to these coordinates for a private meeting."

"Bold of him to think he can order me around." Stricture was suspicious, but he allowed himself to have a cynical grin. "Regardless, it's for Misery to decide if she goes or not. It is only our place to relay the message."

"Indeed." Taciturn began relaying a message onward, then settled back into his seat. "If Misery's message has gotten to all the miners in the past megacycle, any stragglers will make a run for it after the first explosion. But I question if Machiavellian and his ilk will do their job as agreed."

"My brother's reputation of loyalty will ensure he does not fail," Misery interjected upon closing the door, catching the last part of the conversation and causing the two to turn and face her. "They are useful at this stage, and Machiavellian's request has roused my curiosity."

Taciturn withdrew his cables from the computer, turned in his seat, and began to speak normally, "Does this mean that you're going to meet with him?"

Oddly, and for the first time in many years that Stricture and Taciturn could remember, Misery shrugged her pauldrons. "It is something clandestine from my factory brother. I do not presume to know what he wishes to discuss. Be advised, Stricture, you will be asked to leave for the duration of our conference." She approached the two and took the moment to set her hands on either of their helms. Leaning in between the two, she viewed the monitors as the wingmates gazed at her wearily. "Any disagreement from you both will not be tolerated upon the subject."

Stricture went silent before putting into words what he thought Misery might want to hear. "No disagreement from us, captain. We are ever your loyal soldiers." Misery glanced to the left across her pauldron and gave an exasperated sigh. Taking the hint, Stricture continued. "Cybershark has been brought up to speed regarding the plan. He'll see to it that Depth Charge is alone in the target zone when we strike."

Rolling her head and cracking her neck, Misery glared viciously at the screen. "So be it. I entrust ma modestie to your ever loyal hands, my second. Have a care - Xyston's wrath will be insatiable once he is free."

That being said, Misery turned and laid a firm hand upon Stricture's gauntlet and squeezed tightly. "Now is the time, our plans must not fail. Take me to Machiavellian, and we shall see to his business."

"As you command," said Stricture. He wrapped his other hand over hers and teleported them both away.

Machiavellian spoke only after Stricture had been ordered to leave by the Decepticon female, "Discretion was needed, for we had to speak alone."

She took the time to carefully inspect him, then the ramshackle room. Discovering no silhouettes lying in wait, Misery enlivened herself to speak. "What has brought about this meeting?"

"In my time with our brothers and sister, I have learned many of their secrets, but only one has warranted reprimand." Machiavellian drew a short breath, somber thoughts threatening to make themselves known in his tone.

Misery snerked, mouth a snarl, "Then speak succinctly. What has happened?"

"Masquerade has broken Megatron's third decree," he grunted. Tossing a data pad to the female Decepticon, he continued to speak as she read. "I found those records only recently."

She narrowed crimson optics before closing the data pad and returning it to her brother. "Is she aware of your surveillance?"

"No," he answered. "I discovered it two stellarcycles ago. She has made no attempt to dispose of me, so I presume she is unaware I have gained the knowledge. On the matter, I have theorized a means to dispose of her, but not without incurring the retaliation of Mace and Minstrel."

Misery raised an eyearch at this revelation. "Why should they seek revenge upon you?"

" 'Rade has never been one to contain herself. She has had a standing relationship with both Mace and Minstrel for as long as I have worked with them, possibly even longer."

Misery pondered this, rubbed at her bevor, then decided, "If they chose loyalty to Masquerade over obedience to Lord Megatron, then there is no discretion to be made. All three must die."

"The suspicion would have been upon me had I done it alone, but I agree and condescend to your decision. By whatever method you so choose, I believe we should do so without indicting ourselves."

Misery agreed. "I know how to divert suspicion . . ."

The door hissed and slammed shut behind her, and Misery was greeted by an uncountable number of screens of varying sizes and shapes, each with the image of Shock Therapy's face. ~"I normally don't allow anyone into my sanctuaries, but for a fellow Decepticon sister I felt I could make an exception. What do you want, and be clear, Misery, I do hate to have the shuttle shot around."~

"Such a contemplative measure that reflects my intentions," the blue and black female took several paces to close the distance between herself and the screens. "Only a true Decepticon would be so succinct."

Shock Therapy flashed interest in her singular yellow orb, ~"You wish to discuss lineage. Go on."~

"I have a proposal, meant only for a loyal Decepticon."

The purple coloured female pondered a moment, then the various monitors framing her face rippled into the same smirk. ~"My grandsire once told about the Autobot killer. Would you like to hear what he said?"~ When she realized Misery was waiting to be humoured, she continued with the tale. ~"He said the Autobot killer was once a computer, once the computer. Renowned as the Echs-Server, he was the central computer brain of the planet In-A-Gadda. When we Cybertronians took hold of their underdeveloped world, the Echs-Server manifested itself inside the Autobot mobile unit, the Teletran Two model."~

Misery smirked at this. Apparently Shockwave had not revealed the particulars to his sired.

~"Such a magnificent computer, designed by an underdeveloped civilization, yet already perfect in its form. It was capable, grandfather said, of understanding our race, for it was already alive and thinking."~ Shock Therapy chuckled, voice almost nostalgic. ~"A sentient computer that the Autobots attempted to use for their own purposes because we Decepticons had overlooked it. Had we of known -had my grandfather known- then the Echs-Server would have been deactivated before its full capabilities were known.

~"But, I digress . . . it fused itself with the technology of Teletran Two. But it wanted revenge for its enslavement since the Autobots had tied its core into the Autobot ship. The Echs-Server was fueled by its hatred and it wanted to inflict pain upon the Autobots. You see, as the technological hub of In-A-Gadda it had been free, able to jump from one computer to another, able to move about the planet - to them it was just as much of a god as Primus is to us. But under the Autobots it was nothing more than a slave, a subject to do their bidding and confined to one computer. So sad that such a beautiful essence had been trapped, unable to move.

~"Thus, like any trapped beast, it became angry, and the Echs-Server began to understand the concepts of pain, war, and emotions. It began to feel, not just think. But then, it fixated upon a creature that fought endlessly against the Autobots, no matter the pain she endured. This creature was you, sister Misery. Echs-Server became curious and watched you with interest, and because of this fixation, he wanted to touch you, to explore the reasoning behind your absurd masochism. It began to escape the cocoon of the ship and explore what the Autobots had built upon its world.

~"And he began to ponder what would happen if he used the metal from In-A-Gadda to create a body to mock our own. Secretly he built it, and secretly the Echs-Server separated itself from the ship. When the Autobots were under an attack by your squad, it surprised them from the inside and killed them. It started calling itself Exodus to mock our names and to celebrate its liberation from the ship. When you entered, Exodus seduced you. He wanted to rule you, but you just can't be ruled, can you? He understood that, yet he swore allegiance to Lord Megatron if you promised to be his."~

If Misery had any less control of herself, she would have been doubled over with laughter. How silly a tale had been spun to this monitor - Shock Therapy obviously had no idea of Xyston's true origins, let alone her bargain with the behemoth.

~"And you, in Decepticon fashion, accepted his deal and gave him a name more representative of his rebellious nature. Xyston, the name of the pikes used to set heads upon after an uprising. You named him. Now he is free to wander and exact his revenge upon the Autobots. Such a twisted tale, wouldn't you say?"~

"Indeed," Misery grinned sardonically, "who better to know my past than myself?"

~"I told you that story so you would understand my request, Misery."~ The monitors that held Shock Therapy's face pulled away and disappeared. The lights in the darkened room flashed, and the body of the purple Decepticon lowered from the ceiling, wires and support cables spewing out from various ports. "I want to dream in digital, Misery. Make me like the Echs-Server once was, free my mind from this body so that I might exist in every Cybertronian computer throughout the universe."

"A logical proposal." Misery made her way across the slapdash floor. Lights began to come alive under the flooring, and it became evident that not only were there mobile monitors in the room, but the floors, as well as the walls and ceiling, had been turned into a gigantic grid of visual screens. Through this, Misery surmised, Shock Therapy could use all the cameras of Omicron to highlight every screen to create an illusion for anyone who stood in the center to feel as if they were in any part of Omicron they so chose. "In exchange, I require this . . ."

Shock Therapy looked puzzled, but reached out with an animatronic arm to clasp the data disk that her fellow Decepticon held above her head. The purple female inserted the disk into a local drive and read the elements of it in a matter of nanoclicks. "I see . . ." she grinned, a chortle rising from her throat. "So that's your plan. How cunning of you, sister Misery. I will enjoy this plan very much."

"Xyston will transport you to the digital world as you ask. In this, we bargain," the immortal female crossed her arms and awaited the conformation from the other.

"I know the worth of your word, Misery, and I accept the terms of our arrangement. I eagerly await the moment when I can finally dream in digital instead of this chaotic imitation. And, Misery," she lifted her helm, looking down her bridge at the black and blue female, "understand that should you fail to complete your end, I shall expose your plans to all."

"I have no doubts," she gave a murky expression, flipped open the comm. link on her gauntlet when her internal computer alerted her to the transmission, and read the encoded message. It was from Cybershark; he relayed that he had received her orders, but now he had the misfortune of the Air Twins' company, from which he so dreadfully wanted reprieve. "I must away, Shock Therapy."

"As you please, Misery," Shock Therapy called after the blue and black female just as the door shut. To herself, she said, "No longer shall I be constrained to this limited body . . ."

It was half a megacycle later when the twins, Cybershark, and Misery strolled down the heavily reinforced stairwell to the security headquarters. The latter enjoyed the view through the one-way windows that lined the outer wall from the first floor to the top floor. Or rather, she envisioned what would soon be taking place outside those windows, and just how sadistically sublime the view would become.

The twins were engaged in a heated conversation revolving around the conjugation of Karnasian words compared to the Karnasians' ability to communicate. Misery and Cybershark were vastly disinterested.

"I'm telling you," Air Lock wrung his hands, "with only two vowels and nine consonants, the Karnasians, linguistically speaking, should not be able to communicate with one another above basic levels of interactions."

"Ah, but you neglect the fact that the Karnasians can combine words to make new words, and elongate the amount of time spent on one consonant or more to change the meaning of one word into another," Air-slake reminded, out gesturing his brother with his hands while he spoke.

"Would you two just-Shut. Up." Cybershark barked. Tired of listening to their argument, which had been going on for the past hour and varying only on the topic of races, the second rubbed at his snout. "I have fly-through in two quarteces, can you be quiet for at least that long?"

~"I hate to interrupt this darling moment,"~ Shock Therapy's face lit a screen on the upcoming wall as the four continued their descent of the stairs. Coming to a halt, the monitor continued with the reason that she had contacting them, "A body has been found in Ward Five."~

"Any particulars?" Cybershark inquired for the sake of appearances. He was already well-aware of the situation. He had been there when Stricture had made the corpse just public enough to be found.

~"No, but the body is intact for the most part. It's not a level one priority, so I haven't notified Depth Charge yet. I was hoping one of you could take a look."~

Cybershark nodded, "The twins should have no problem handling it." The two jumped to attention, fully aware that they had just been volunteered for something. He turned to the two and narrowed his eyes, finger pointed accusingly at the two. "I want a legible report, Air Lock, not some screwing around this time."

"Fine, fine," Air Lock clasped his gantlets behind his helm, smiling innocently as he did. If it weren't for the stern look he got from his brother, he would have said more to antagonize the second. Instead, he turned and had already walked away when he added, "I'll get right on that!"

"Yeah, you better . . ."

Misery and Cybershark waited for the twins to disappear down the stairs and out the doors to the dispatching platform. Before beginning their conversation, Shock Therapy verified the hallway for privacy, then Cybershark said, "Game's set."

"Indeed," Misery nodded, acknowledging Shock Therapy's image that was still hovering omnisciently over their pauldrons. "Wait until they are in Ward Five before signaling Machiavellian."

~"Understood,"~ the display went black.

The Decepticon female turned her gaze back to the teal Maximal. "Go to your position. We are ready to begin." Cybershark closed his red eyes, nodded, breathed once through the pores on his muzzle, and finally disappeared down the stairwell in a rush.

To herself, Misery thought, Soon, Xyston.

"Hey," Air Lock stopped meters from the door to the platform, turned to his brother with a serious face, and said, "can I meet you there? I need to check something real fast."

"Look, about earlier, I'm sorry about the lecture," Air-slake began.

"No worries. I know you were concerned, and I know I act out." The eldest shoved down a sigh he had meant to take, only to find himself drowning in his brother's concern. "Don't worry. I'm sorry. I'm okay. I just gotta take care of this, okay? I'll meet you there."

"Okay, but don't be long."

"I won't," Air Lock reaffirmed by patting his brother on the pauldron. "I'll be along shortly."

The departmental branch of Tyr Corp that stood alongside the TRUNDLE research facility was empty of the 35 commissioned workers. Normally, they would be busying about their daily tasks of measuring resource distribution for their 700-odd branches across the universe. Upon discharging thirteen of the employees due to "downsizing of branches", and then "promoting" another nine to positions at various other branches (whom were all now on their way to being surprised at the falsified documents and confused managers), Taciturn and Stricture had been left with the remaining workers. They easily made short work of them once they became isolated targets throughout the building.

Currently, Taciturn stood at the tinted windows, running diagnostic scans over the neighbouring building, detecting weak points in the security and also comparing the layout to the blueprints they had acquired from their mech on the inside. "Stricture, I believe I have found the security room," the red and black Decepticon announced to his wingmate.

"Good, gimme the coordinates and I'll get moving," the gold and blue male said as he cleared the immediate area of the temporary scanning equipment Taciturn had set up.

Taciturn tossed the forearm hookup to his wingmate, then held up his hand in a waiting gesture. "When I tell you, teleport to those coordinates. Since the room will be clear for approximately three minutes you'll have time to attach the transmitter to their systems and it'll reroute the grid back to me. I'll have complete control and I'll be able to walk you through."

"I got it, don't worry," he smiled, flicked his wrist to ensure mobility with the device attached, and when Taciturn's hand dropped he found himself being pulled across space and materializing feet first in an empty surveillance room. Stricture all but dove under the computer panel, removed the transmitter from his forearm, and attached it to the underside where it would not immediately be detected. "Tass, you reading me?"

~"Affirmative,"~ the deep voice came across the comm. link. ~"In about thirty nanoclicks, the shift change will arrive. Security looks simplistic enough on the upper levels that there'll only be one guard for the cameras. I suggest using your energon blade once he's in the room."~

Stricture spun on his heels, extended the energon blade from the back of his left forearm, and held it across his chest. Forcing his way into as small a space as possible, the gold and blue seeker narrowed his golden-hued crimson eyes towards the door, awaiting the arrival of the guard. Almost on cue, the door to the security room slid open and a squat, surly robot waddled into the room and sat down at the monitoring screens. The poor fellow never saw it coming until the blade had pierced through his backside and out the front of his chest. "Sla-" was the last thing he muttered before going offline.

"Alright," he withdrew his blade and tapped at his helm to open a private communication link. "I should have three megacycles, more than enough time. Tass?" he unholstered his sidearm, charged the weapon, and then stood next to the door. "Where's my next clear room?"

~"Coordinates two-three-dash-four-zero-dash-eight-four. There's only two life forms in the room. It'll take you down five flights, but I'm still isolating a large energy cluster. I think that is where they'll be studying his major limbs."~

"Whatever gets me there fast. And here we go," he said, leaving a dust cloud of gold, silver, and blue behind him.

~"We have a problem,"~ Shock Therapy radioed to Misery. ~"Air Lock is not on his mark. I show him headed for Dock One."~

Slag, Misery paused, rapped her comm. link, and said, "He is running."

~"This is not starting out well, Misery. I detest when things don't go right."~

"We are on a time-table. Either convince him to stay or to go. I care not which, but deal with him," she hissed, then paced faster towards the antechamber that lead to the offices where Jazz³ would be.

~"And how am I to convince him?"~

"Be his therapist," she spat, cut the transmission, and turned the corner gracefully into the common room without any indication that something had gone awry.

The red and white jet turned the lever over, walked down the plank into the side of the empty shuttle, and climbed into the cockpit.

There was no way he was staying. The idea of spending his last days on Omicron wrenched his spark, and even though his brother may have accepted the fate inscribed upon their unwritten epitaph, Air Lock would not have it. Harnessing himself into the pilot's seat, he went through the ignition sequence and listened to the wakening rumble of the engines. "Control tower, this is Security Officer Air Lock, requesting clearance to launch from Hanger Four."

There was silence on the other end, so he called a second time. "Control tower, this is Air Lock. I need clearance to launch from Hanger Four."

~"Is Cybershark aware that you're playing hooky from your assignment?"~

The red Maximal released the sigh he'd been holding. " 'Therapy. You gonna tell on me?"

~"Depends on if you're gonna let me in on why you're not assisting your brother."~

"Heh," he rasped. " 'Slake can handle himself. Besides, I didn't get much rest earlier. I need a little extra time to clear my head of some things."

~"Misery not interested, I take it?"~

His voice cracked, "You were watching?"

~"I'm a monitor. I see everything through the cameras, but I don't hear the finer details."~

"Yeah," he swallowed, hands tightening on the controls. "She didn't succumb to my good charms."

~"Such a shame. You are at least more interesting than Depth Charge."~

He laughed at the comparison. For all the praise Depth Charge had received from the academy, Air Lock never thought of himself even in the same league as the leviathan. He used his laugh to suppress his anxiety, and inquired, "You really think so?"

~"You're the son of Air Raid. Far more interesting than a meager grunt soldier working his way up the ranks."~ Shock Therapy considered her next phrasing carefully. ~"Misery is a fool if she doesn't prefer a prince to a pauper."~

"That's . . ." Air Lock wiped at his optics with one hand, but watched the hanger gate lights count down overhead towards depressurization. In a few moments, he'd be cleared and headed for the jump gate back to Cybertron. " 'Therapy, are you flirting with me?"

~"Depends. Do you want it to be flirting?"~ She allowed the faintest lilt into her voice to feign attraction. Good, she thought, he's falling for it.

He evinced his amusement across his lips. "My, my. I never thought you would be one to flirt with a Maximal." The lights above were tinting from yellow to green, then began the agonizing slither to blue.

~"Sometimes I step out of my comfort zone and surprise people."~

The gate was clear, and all he had to do was squeeze the controls and ease forward out of the hanger.

But he found he was frozen, unable to force his hands to move. He asked, " 'Therapy?"

~"Yes?"~

"You ever been asked to do something you didn't want to agree with, even though you knew deep down you had to do it?"

Silence.

" 'Therapy?"

~". . .Every day I am made to accept the status I've been dealt, even though I do not agree with the restrictions placed upon the Decepticons and Predacons. I have long ago resigned, because if I act out then it means harsher punishments and fates for those of my kind."~

"That's more of an answer than I had hoped for," he licked at his lips, bit one, and eyed his hands speculatively. If it weren't for that invisible rope around his hands, he'd be out the hanger and gone by now, leaving everyone to their individual fates.

Just one millimeter on the trigger, and the engines would ignite. A tip of his wrist and he'd be climbing for the gate. Now he just needed to cut that restraint keeping him from going.

"Damnit," he swore in more languages than he should. "It's not that hard, all I have to do is go."

~"You're cleared for launch,"~ the female Decepticon suggested.

And so he made his decision.

Manoeuver heard their footsteps before he even saw them. Shoving the last of his crew down the old escape route that they had tunneled into the asteroid in preparation for collapses, the tired ganger hobbled over the mining equipment that had been knocked over in the rush to escape. "Ye didn' give us much time!"

"If they could not pick up and leave in a megacycle, then they do not deserve to leave of their own volition," Machiavellian chided. Helping the old miner upon the platform, he clapped from him the general muck that could seemingly magnetize to each miner, despite how recently they might have cleaned themselves. "Is that the last of them?"

"T'ey ar' the last o' mine. Vulture's got the north cave, an' Cra'ate 'as the south."

"They better run, then," Masquerade stepped forward, laughter echoing her steps down the caverns that branched to the deeper sites. "Cause time's out."

Before the ganger could protest in defense of the remaining miners, Malice caught the mech by the arm and held him fast. Machiavellian, seeing to his timer, clicked the first switch that set off the first round of explosives that had been planted throughout the adjoining bulkhead to wards Eight and Nine.

"I's 'till got mechs in 'ere!" he struggled, but instantly had his brow shoved into the platform. Behind him, Malice wrenched the older mech's right arm clean from his body, eliciting a vehement scream from the other.

"And what's a mining explosion without a few corpses?" Masquerade cackled.

"Never question our decision," Machiavellian stated matter-of-factly. Never once did he turn to face the ganger, but his unspoken order was enough for Malice to summarily execute the mech with a plasma bullet to the back of his armour. Manoeuver screamed only until the plasma corroded through to his spark.

"Was that truly necessary?" Minstrel impassively blinked, cocked his helm to the side, and further stated, "I rather liked the old 'con."

Machiavellian slowly, deliberately turned and locked eyes with his brother. Neither said a word, but the threat was there - if Minstrel questioned a second time, he'd be the one eating the next bullet.

"What. The hell. Was that?" Jazz³ blinked, drew up his computer to check the structural integrity of the various wards, but was interrupted by Shock Therapy's face on his screen.

~"I've detected an explosion in Ward Nine. I've alerted Depth Charge, and Cybershark is already on his way. Cybershark wants the twins to stay on task, but I'm overwhelmed filtering the reports coming in from the emergency calls. Can you help me dispatch the twins, yes or no?"~

"Yes," he rasped. "Do you want me to come up there?"

~"Negative. Just see to the Twins."~

The screen went blank before Jazz³ could retort, but he sat about his duty. "Hey guys, you read me?"

~"Loud and clear. What was that? Felt it all the way down here in Five."~

"Explosion from one of the mining tunnels. I think they may have hit something. Boss-bot and tricky fishy are heading there now. I don't think we'll be needed, but stand by protocol and radio me first if you discover anything down there."

~"Sure thing,"~ Air-slake replied, though with some hesitation to his voice.

"Hey, you two okay?" Jazz³ swiped his hand over his interactive screen, intending to draw up the video feed for the twins' position, but found the screen unresponsive. The remote camera must have been disconnected by whomever had dumped the body.

~"Yes,"~ Air-slake stared at the empty space in the alley where his brother should have been standing. He lied, ~"We're fine."~

"Copy that. Oh, hey, check out that local camera before you leave. I'm reading a blank on it, so someone must have futzed with it when they dumped that body."

~"Understood,"~ the jet swallowed, took a nanoclick to compose himself, then said, ~"we'll see you later."~

Depth Charge wasn't sure his mind had registered the explosion until well after he remembered his hand clasping the emergency lock and diving out of the security building, thrusters at maximum. He had barked, " 'Therapy, give me a pinpoint!"

And she had efficiently responded, ~"Junction of Ward Nine and Eight. Cybershark diverting patrol to rendezvous on your position."~

"Begin lockdown procedures to Ward One and Six once we're through. I don't want anything leakin' into them longer than necessary."

~"Affirmative."~

Switching frequencies and transforming to jet mode to increase his speed, Depth Charge radioed his second, "Cy', what's your ee-tee-aye to Ward Eight?"

~"I was flying patrol in Six, so I'll be coming through Nine. I'll have to pincer to your position. I've radioed 'Therapy to lock down Six behind me in three cycles."~

"Good." Depth Charge lamented that in jet mode he had not the use of his hands to wipe at his face. It was for the best in this situation, though. Any amount of hesitation by the security team and the general populace would panic to no ends - he'd seen the footage of the previous chief and the riots that had followed the Gonongam disaster.

The blue and purple Maximal returned to the monitor's frequency, " I'm clearing Ward One now. Engage lockdown . . ."

Shock Therapy lowered the monitors in order to illustrate to her fellow Decepticon female how the bulkheads had locked behind the two security officers. "Depth Charge and Cybershark will engage your friends, Air-slake hasn't moved from Five, and Air Lock is advancing on his brother's position." She paused as the cameras revolved and changed angles on the four mechs in the field. "We're back on track, but it concerns me that Jazz, is still in the building."

~"I know."~ Misery patiently contemplated the Autobot-sired who remained in the security center. ~"Has Jazz attempted contact with the others that would warrant prompt action?"~

"No, nothing yet. I've lojacked all communications equipment within twelve floors plus and minus his current position." The singular orb of the violet female dimmed in thought, considering the black and blue female staring back from the computer screen. "What will you do now?"

~"I will wait for Machiavellian to move upon Depth Charge and for Cybershark to complete his tasks. For now, I shall go keep the Autobot company."~ Misery smirked, collected herself, and strode to the door. She was almost ready to leave the hallway when Shock Therapy asked her the pertinent question, to which she idly responded: ~"When he awakens, you shall receive payment as agreed."~

"Remember what else you promised me, Misery." There was anger in her voice as the demand echoed throughout the chamber. "You promised."

On the other end of the transmission, crimson optics narrowed, and the golden hue faded from them. Misery refused to look back to the monitor, but stated calmly, ~"I honour my word."~

"One little-two little-three little Indians," Stricture cut through one scientist after the next, all the while he sang while disabling the scientists, so that stasis lock had no choice but to engage. Picking up the three motionless bodies, Stricture followed the jump route he had created to the main operating room.

Dragging them down the gallery of the operating theatre, he sat one after another into the seats, restrained them physically, and then -for good measure- he disabled their motor functions. When he finished, the silver and blue Decepticon ricked to the shielded operating tank in the center of the room. Rather than walk, he disappeared in a burst of multicoloured smoke and appeared at the edge of the container.

Stepping the last two paces to the partition, he peered over the edge and examined the bits of gold, purple, grey, and red that swarmed over one another like insects. For no more than he had collected of the behemoth, the nanites' memory had begun to formulate the mess of pieces into what would eventually become a complete body.

"Four little-five little-six little Indians," he smirked, widened his eyes in anticipation, and disappeared to another section of the building.

Depth Charge transformed after arriving at the bulkhead separating ward Eight from Nine, landed upon the nearest platform that hadn't collapsed in the initial shockwave, and surveyed the area. Many security drones had taken up post by the sealed entryway, while the multitude of diagnostic and repair drones sought out the gaps in the structure, identifying and isolating what triage status should be given to the damaged interior hull of the colony.

Emergency teams had already arrived to the area and had drawn the wounded into Ward Eight before the doors sealed. While some only sustained minimal injuries, they had been contained to an impromptu egest tent while the medical teams began the process of preemptive decontamination. The others, who had grievous wounds or missing limbs, had been escalated to the nearest mobile infirmary and recovery unit erected in response to the explosion.

"No reports yet, sir," announced the honey-toned Maximal who ran up to meet the leviathan.

"What do we know, Cathode?" Depth Charge inspected the squat male who had fetched a data pad from his subspace.

"To count, we have twelve bystanders who have been taken to MIR to stabilize," began Cathode. "We've had ninety-two so far go through decontamination, and another two-hundred or more waiting. What teams I've sent in haven't radioed for three cycles now, so I'm thinking they hit something radioactive down there."

"Anyone trapped?" the security chief stepped forward, dropped to one knee to examine the data pad over Cathode's pauldron, and still managed to tower over the honey-toned Maximal.

"Negative. At least no one reported before we lost contact." Cathode spun on his heels and indicated to secondary entrance where three more teams of five bots apiece were loading gear and rescue equipment to their backs and subspace. "We're about to start a checkpoint crew. Going to see if we can get some type of signal going through whatever's blocking us downstairs."

Nodding, the blue and purple Maximal lifted his arm and spoke into his comm. link. "Cy, what do you see on the other side?"

Static.

"No use getting through using direct comm.," Cathode pointed to an expanse of wall that ran to the west of their current position. "Anything direct beam through the exterior wall into Nine is cut off after approximately a quarter-kilometer. Interference runs the adjoining sections. If you wanna talk to Cybershark, he's gotta get almost up against us on the other side, and judging by the sonar reads I just got, he's not getting to us for awhile."

"What's sonar show?" The two side-stepped as a medical team jaunted past with four crushed, unrecognizable torsos from the secondary entrance.

"A whole-lotta-nothing. Whatever the obstruction is, we can't get a reading," the officer responded.

"Hey, you!" Depth Charge jerked around, and caught the last of the emergency responders by the arm. "Can you tell me what's down there?"

"Lots of scaffolding came down, major tunnels have collapsed, and there's a mojestern radical two leak coming out of Tunnel Four. Anyone in that tunnel's dead in five cycles regardless of treatment or not." The bot grasped at the empty air towards his team. "I have to go with them. MIR Two is about to be short by sixty-two beds."

The security chief nodded, released the Maximal, and turned back to Cathode. The two shared identical sullen expressions.

"Primus take them and keep them," Cathode whispered. His eyes widened, suddenly hyper-alert to the situation. "I've gotta call off that checkpoint crew. They can't go near Tunnel Four without Class Enns!"

Depth Charge nodded, "Go!"

The leviathan was halfway across the makeshift command post when his communications link crackled to life. ~"Dep- *chzzt* -ge *chzzt* -eading *chzzt*."~

"Cy, is that you?" he ignored the clamour of voices and equipment behind him and focused only on his radio. "How are you getting through?"

~"Sig- *chzzt* -eak *chzzt* -erapy routing *chzzt* -rd Six, Four, Two, and *chzzt*."~

Well, Depth Charge thought, at least that's something to work with. "Cy, get close to the East end of Nine. Repeat: East end of Nine. Avoid Tunnel Four. Repeat: avoid Tunnel Four. Mojestern radical two leak in Tunnel Four."

~" *chzzt* -gain?"~

"Mojestern radical two. Mojestern radical two. Tunnel Four. Tunnel Four. Tunnel Four." Depth Charge repeated himself four more times, hoping that his transmission got through uninterrupted.

The signal died for almost a cycle before the clearest response came back, ~"Well, fuck."~ The security chief rolled his optics, readied a retort, but was cut off by Cybershark. ~"I hope- *chzzt* -oming through clearer. Main- *chzzt* -orker just said mojestern lea- *chzzt* -unnel Four and Eight."~

"Damnit," hoicking back, Depth Charge ran full speed for the secondary entrance where Cathode and his teams were coating themselves in the last of the Class N shield modifiers. "Cath', Cybershark just got a message to me that there's mojestern in Tunnel Eight."

"Slag, team two was headed for Eight from this side," he pointed five officers standing together. "You guys are loaded. Get to Tunnel Eight now. Warn them off."

They saluted wordlessly, dispatched themselves accordingly, and crossed the barricade into the pressurized chamber that separated them from Ward Nine. Moments after they had disappeared behind the wall, the adjoining lock opened to reveal three miners dragging a mech who was twice their combined size and missing both legs beneath the fauld. One yelled, "Somebody help us!"

A medic who deemed her patient stable descended upon the three miners, made the hasty decision that none were in stasis and downgraded them to green triage with an equally hasty paint marker to their pauldrons, and then made a yellow triage to the fourth mech without asking any questions. She ordered, "Egest tent three for decontamination. If he-" she pointed to the crippled mech "-goes into status, alert your nearest med-tech and they'll evac him to the first available MIR."

"You're not listening to us!" one of the miner's attempted to interrupt. "There's mechs trapped down there!"

Regardless of their arguments, the medic disappeared faster than she had come, and the three argued for a moment among themselves whether they should go back down.

"Easy," Depth Charge, who had been listening, broke up their fight by throwing his hands between them. "How many are trapped and where?"

All four said something different, then the miner in the middle threw his hands between everyone and waved for attention. Self-elected to speak, he clarified, "There's fourteen from our team in Tunnel Three, Adit Two. We were headed for Tunnel Four when we heard the team down there screaming murder, but mojestern alarm went off. One of our crew kicked the support beams out when we couldn't get the door closed, then more of the roof caved in."

Pausing only long enough to take a wheezing breath, the miner continued, "We were at the tail of our crew, but when everyone turned back we were first out. Roof came down on us and without the big guy-" he pointed to the miner who was once again being lifted by the other two "-we couldn't get the way cleared for them. They're trapped behind beams and we just left them."

Nodding once, Depth Charge pointed to the decontamination tents, "Do like the medic said, I'm goin' down." Leaving the four miners, Depth Charge picked a random medic who passed him first and two security officers who were of substantial bulk that could help him. Despite the medic's attempts to break free and return to triaging, the leviathan drug him the whole way through the secondary entrance to Ward Nine.

It's started. I can feel it. Air-slake gazed out between the two buildings, watching as the inhabitants of Ward Five went about their lives as if the explosion had not happened. Shuttles and individuals flew overhead in flocks, unaware of the danger that would soon be upon them. Ahead of him, pedestrians passed the security drones and caution barriers without so much as throwing a glance his way.

Sighing, he turned in time to catch three scraplets, no bigger than domesticated Terran felines, gnawing at the foot of the already disfigured corpse. "Get away!" he swatted at them, but missed when they scattered upon his approach. "Disgusting things!"

"I think they're cute."

Air-slake spun towards the entrance of the crime scene, safety halfway released from his sidearm before he realized it was only his twin. "There you are. What took you so long?"

Air Lock looked from his brother to the corpse, then again to his brother. Stiffly, he avoided the evidence markers that were nearly lost in the litter that caked the alley, and came to hover next to his twin. "I had that thing to take care of."

Narrowing cerulean optics in concern, the younger brother pried, "Are you okay?"

"Just . . ." Air Lock upturned his helm, stared at nothing in particular on the exterior of the nearby building, and avoided the remains beside him as amicably as he did the conversation. "Just leave it alone."

" 'Lock, if you're not feeling okay-"

"Just leave it alone," he shot back, eyearchs raising in tune with his pursed lips. "It's no longer important, okay? So just leave it - leave me - alone."

Considerately and noiselessly, Air-slake approached his brother, gripped his twin's pauldron and squeezed reassuringly. "Cue's been keeping me posted. There was a mine explosion down in Ward Nine."

"And we're stuck here when we should be back at the Tower doing the right thing."

Air-slake nearly choked on his words as he fought off the frustration and sorrow that under normal circumstances would have sent him flying to the rescue. "It's here. You felt it too, then?"

"Of course I felt it. I felt it last night when Misery came this close to killing me," Air Lock spat, pinching his finger and thumb together for emphasis. "She wouldn't even listen to reason. She's just going through the motions and marching us all to our deaths. We're down here - pointlessly down here, sitting on our hands doing absolutely nothing to help everyone, and our friends are about to be killed. We're about to be killed.

"And instead of fighting, we're just sittin' here, waiting for the damn end to come. I came so close to leaving. So close that I was in the cockpit, gates open, and I couldn't move the damn ship forward. I got out and tried to fly for the gate by myself, and I couldn't do it. No matter how much I wanted to leave, I couldn't make myself do it.

"I wasn't scared. I wasn't afraid. I just. Couldn't. Damn. Move." Huffing furiously, Air Lock grabbed his twin and carted him into a hug that would have crushed an organic. "I couldn't leave my little brother to die alone."

"To tell you the truth," Air-slake, who had remained silent until now, said into his brother's pauldron, "I'd have tried the same thing if you hadn't done it."

~"He's in the box,"~ reported Shock Therapy.

Misery silenced her comm. link and strode nonchalantly into the office where Jazz³ had set up his computer to monitor the reports from the Air twins as they submitted information to be cross referenced in Omicron's files. Currently, he was chasing down a partial serial number from the corpse that Air-slake had forwarded to him after submitting hundreds of crime scene photos.

"Depth Charge has not called for me," she wove around the office, inspecting each poster and collected item. Anything she could get away with nudging into symmetrical patterns she did so with the intent of arousing the Autobot's anger, if only to pass the time. "I grow restless."

"I can see that," Jazz³ glanced up briefly, blinked once, and stared at her from under the visor he had pulled over his optics. He ordered, "Please move that back."

Misery examined the urn that she had spun to hide the crack towards the wall. "This item?"

"Yes," he cast his eyes over the shelves that she had passed, only to find himself listing items, "and the pictures. And the data pads. The statues, too."

"You are as restless as I," she stated. "Would you not rather be - how do you say? - in the field?"

"Yes, but I have tertiary duties to oversee." He went back to typing, flashing a glance in her direction every so often to keep watch on anything else she chose to reposition on his shelves. If she started on the sports paraphernalia he'd collected, he made the mental promise to fire a warning shot in her direction.

"I am without entertainment," she cocked her helm to the side and eyed him speculatively while completing her first circle of the room. "Suggestions?"

"You could go get shitfaced in one of the bars?" he huffed, striving to maintain his focus on the search for a matching serial number for the victim. Avoidant of anyone spying his computer screen, he alternatively minimized the search engine or maximized a video game on the screen to keep Misery from stealing a glance upon her second and third passes of the room.

"You distrust me," the female Decepticon neared the entrance and paused her steps.

"One, you're a Decepticon. I don't trust any Decepticon," he sat up straighter when she began pacing for the fourth time. "Two, I just don't like anyone reading over my shoulder. Pet peeve. I'm sure you understand."

"Indeed." She stopped again at the urn, inspecting the crack like it was the most interesting thing in the universe. Misery surmised that Jazz³ was one of those tourists who brought back a souvenir from every place he had been, but the motley collection leaned heavily towards Terran pop culture. The urn was out of place. "I cannot fathom keeping things that are broken."

As he was about to offer some response regarding her gun and what she could do with it, the screen flashed with a match and interrupted him. Instead, he radioed to the twins. " 'Slake, you there?"

~"Yes. Did you find a match?"~

"Yes indeedy. I've got a match for colonial resident Tinsel, manager of research and development for Tyr Corp. His office is in Ward Five, Tier Twenty-six. I think you guys should go knocking on doors and find out how long he's been missing."

~"Copy that."~

"Stay safe," he closed the link, typed a note on the file, and glanced up without moving his helm. Continuing to type, he noticed that Misery had disappeared from his field of vision, but since he had not heard the door open and shut during his aside with Air-slake, he presumed that she had moved behind him again.

A crawling sensation tickled his metallic spine, and the urge to investigate his surroundings began to overtake him. Discretely, he activated the reflective corners of his visor, allowing him to add that extra periphery. He couldn't quite make out her full body - she stood directly behind him. But Jazz³ could make out Misery's extended wings and the edgings of her pauldrons and gauntlets.

Still he typed, pretending as if she had gone unnoticed, too curious to let on that he knew she was behind him. The Autobot-sired watched her right arm bow out silently, and only then did he detect the faintest click of her handgun being freed from its harness at her side. Jazz³ fought the urge to flinch, to display indication that he knew what she was doing; however, his cerulean optics had grown twice their original size under the visor.

The moment he caught the edge of Misery's handgun leveled towards his back, Jazz³ knew she was going for the kill shot. No longer wanting to tempt fate, his world slowed down the nanoclick he chose to jump up, leap towards the right, and simultaneously spin towards the Decepticon female. In the matter of a nanoclick, he extended his arms and released the safety on his arm-mounted thrummers.

That same nanoclick found the plasma charge from Misery's handgun tearing through the right side of Jazz³'s stomach as it came to bare, but before it reached him the deafening sonic blast of his thrummers slowed its impact so it hit low and to the side.

On the other side of the desk, the sonic waves coalesced from hundreds of minute waves into one ultra-sonic wave that hit Misery and everything surrounding her head on. The resulting detonation warped the metal lining the wall behind her, tore the metal from her frame, and sent one and all crashing through to the next room.

The aftershock was just as bad. On top of the corrosive plasma that was devouring the right side of his stomach and steadily advancing through him to his backside, the recoil of the wave in closed quarters launched him ass over teakettle towards the door, and ultimately through it and into the hallway.

Landing on his stomach with one arm under him and one arm splayed out ahead of him, Jazz³ groaned for all the tension and pain that had left him stranded immobile on the floor. Barely, he tilted his helm up and came to rest on the left side of his face and saw that he was facing away from the remains of his office. Good, he mentally whined. I don't want to see what I did to my stuff . . .

A planetary adit served the purpose of allowing water or other liquids run out from the main tunnels, but in zero-gravity they served the purpose of diverting gases caught by the centrifugal fans to the distilleries at the back of each adit. Inside each distillery, gases were condensed and cooled into liquid containers for storage. Even though green pyre was their most sought after resource, the generous heap of chemicals was just as profitable between harvests.

In order to protect their profit margins, investors ensured that each adit was reinforced, so it was naturally the first place the trapped miners thought to dive when the ceiling came down around them.

Upon entering Tunnel Three, Depth Charge and the three officers following him saw that rescue teams were cutting into the chocks that had trapped two miners. They had been unable to push their way free after the crews had cleared the initial debris, which left them to patiently wait for the team that had stayed to cut wide sections from the beams that could be spared the cost of the ceiling's weight. Normally, it wouldn't have mattered in zero-gravity, but the teams did not want to risk that something in a higher tunnel might have compromised the integrity of the ones below.

Even in space, objects have mass, and the denizens of Omicron were all too familiar with the concept. It didn't help that the occasional rumble and fading scream continually reminded everyone within the ward of the frailty of life.

Passing the first adit, the four Maximals cautiously flew through Tunnel Three in search of the next branch where they expected to find the rubble and the fourteen trapped miners. "Can anyone hear me?" Depth Charge yelled every quarter-kilometer that they flew. "If you're trapped, make some noise so we can find you!"

"Sir," one of the officers flew close to the chief, able to keep pace with the larger male's hovering speed. "If the map I downloaded is correct, Adit Two should be visible within the next kilometer.

"Switching to infrared," the leviathan commanded the action of his internal sensors, then was enveloped visually in a haze of the red-orange spectrum. He announced, "Heat levels look maintained, so we're not venting to space. Stay on guard for capped seams that may be working and be careful not to bust them."

At the threshold of the adit, the four transformed, landed, and engaged their searchlights. Approaching the hulking slab of rock and metal that had blocked their path into the adit, Depth Charge caught a glimpse of two sparking stubs protruding from the base of the rock. Frowning, he said, "Looks like we found the right one, at least."

"Is someone out there?" a dampened voice called from the other side of the rock.

"We're here!" the medic rushed to the seal of the rock, hoping to get a better angle on the voices inside. "Is anyone in there in critical condition?"

"A few of us are missing limbs," the voice came again, accompanied by the gleeful cheers of the others inside celebrating their impending liberation. "No one's seriously injured. Move on to whoever needs it. We just want out!"

The medic turned to the security chief, waiting for the go-ahead to rejoin the medical staff outside. Instead, Depth Charge ordered, "Everyone grab the corner. We're gonna move this thing and then ya can go."

They all nodded in agreement, chose the corner that appeared to have the better angle for all four, then heaved. At first, only dust and pebbles stirred, but the strength of the four working together soon had the faintest of gaps appearing at their feet. A whoosh caught their feet like a rushing tide, which threatened to overturn the smaller medic. Defiantly, he forced himself to remain upright, and yelled encouragement to the others, "Hold steady!"

"We can see you!" the voice rasped, eliciting more cheers from the inside.

"Anyone on the other side that's fully functional," Depth Charge grunted and strained, "we could sure use the help!"

"A little further, and we can!" a female voice called this time.

Scooting one foot after the other, one of the officers walked his gauntlets down the rock until he could leverage the extra push needed for the next officer to move forward in support. After they moved, the leviathan came forward, repositioned himself as steadily as he could, then snorted and thrust his weight against the slab.

Now with the gap widening and with their proximity to the miners growing steadily closer, they could hear the tail-end of a conversation. ". . . ya sure you wanna do this, Picker?"

" 'Course! I'd give mah life for you guys." Voices embarked their support. Moments later, Depth Charge could just make out the scrapes and slithers of a small bot crawling through the gap they had made. "Okay, boys," the closer voice said, "mah name's Picker, and I'm gonna shove on three. I can't do much for ya yet, but I'll give it mah best."

"It's appreciated," the medic strained, and the three officers concurred.

"Okay, one, two," there was a long scrape followed by what sounded like a cat wailing in a blender, "three!"

The medic felt the rock slip fast from his hands, but his quick reaction countered the loss of leverage by rushing further under the rock and catching the first grip he could. Planting his feet once more, he forced upward, giving him and Picker the chance to hold the rock at a steeper angle. The squatter officers came forward one at a time, resituating themselves in time for the leviathan to make his move.

With the space now cleared for him, Depth Charge came under the rock where the first gap had appeared, lowered himself to the ground, and grasped the facing. Lifting with all his strength, the four bots in front of him had the weight of the rock ripped from their grips by the space of meters. Holding the full weight of the corner by himself, Depth Charge rose until the angle was steep enough to allow a six meter crawl space next to himself.

"Slag," one officer said, dumbstruck.

Quick on action, Picker dove back into the adit and began guiding two more miners out behind him. Now with more hands to help and ample space for everyone, they made short work of clearing the rock from the entrance. One by one, the remaining miners squeezed from the adit until the last came up to the security chief. "Depth Charge, right?"

"That's right," he answered.

The miner offered his hand, and the leviathan humbly accepted. "You're a good bot," the miner said. "Most would've left us down here an' moved on as soon as they heard we were okay." Only nodding in return, the leviathan asked the miner if he knew of others who might have been trapped. "No," he responded. "Soon as the explosion went off, we lost all signal locally. We only heard the other guys screaming in Four, but they've . . . been quiet for some time now."

"I heard," Depth Charge tipped his helm to the other. "Follow the medic back to Eight and get yourselves repaired."

Picker frog-hopped to the security chief and the miner, toting two crushed legs. "I figure they got MIRs or some such up there. Why make Noesis wait for replacements?"

The miner forced a weak smile, transformed to his cart mode, and allowed Picker to climb onboard. "Thanks, pal!" Picker yelled as they sped to catch up to the medic and other miners.

"So where you want us next, boss?" an officer asked.

Depth Charge spared a glance to him, ordered the two to follow, and then jolted over the rubble to the far wall. He pointed to a smoking, triangular object mounted to a bolt driven into the wall. "One of the alarms."

"Looks like it malfunctioned," one suggested.

"No," Depth Charge narrowed his crimson optics and dialed his sensors up internally. "It's been shot out. Someone sabotaged the alarms."

Bits of the two officers flew past him and embedded into the wall. Spinning, Depth Charge drew his gunblade and pointed it in the direction the shots had been fired from. The tunnel coughed and sputtered, and bits of loose rock reigned down overhead in the direction of the exit, forcing him to dive temporarily for cover and blocked his path of retreat.

"Well, look who we caught," Mace dropped from a clandestine passage overhead and pointed his handgun at the security chief. "Nice job holding off your shot, by the way. Too many stray shots and this place might come down." He prodded the rubble at his feet for emphasis. "It's gonna make this interesting."

"You're the bouncer from the bar," Depth Charge leveled his gunblade at the other, charging the blade for effect. "Care to explain before I take ya down?"

"What's there to explain?" green orbs lit up in his peripheral, and had Depth Charge not heard the voice, he would have presumed it was Misery. Masquerade walked out of the darkness and lit up a small section of the tunnel, sashaying her hips with every step. "We got an itch we wanted to scratch."

"So ya blew up a mine?" Depth Charge unholstered his second gun and pointed it in Masquerade's direction. The thought crossed his mind that the danger to them all just rose exponentially.

"Really sweetie, that's cute," she chortled. "But now that you got your focus on us . . ."

He detected the movement behind him, and dove to the side to avoid a shot to the back. Instead of connecting with the blue and purple Maximal, the shot went wild and threw dust and small rocks everywhere. "Three against one," Depth Charge, looked from Mace to Masquerade to Minstrel. "This'll be a walk . . ."

Deciding he had lain there for long enough without a counter-attack, Jazz³ rolled his helm from left to right, giving him the chance to decide which wall was closest. His side hurt with each flinch, and the motor control to his right leg had been severed. Trying his wing mechanism, he grunted as a whirring effort left him still limp and lying face down.

"Gotta get moving," he rallied his conviction and drew himself onto his right vambrace. Gently, the third eased himself up and freed his left arm. The action cost him, though, as he fought back the scream caused by the gaping wound in his side, which was steadily leaking energon. Bracing himself with his right arm, Jazz³ attempted to shift his weight to his left side, even though it made it difficult for him to kick forward with his left leg.

Reaching out with his left arm, he pulled himself forward with a grunt, and repeated the gestures until he was close enough to the wall to grab the framework. Lifting with both arms, he got his left foot planted and rose slightly. Then, putting his weight back onto his right leg with some tentative tests of stability, he risked the pain for a quick jerk to get his left leg, and in turn his entire body, up to a standing position.

Since he was now standing, Jazz³ hobbled and turned, subconsciously covering his wound to slow the loss of energon. He surveyed the destruction of his office.

His collectables were warped beyond recovery, and the desk had seen better days. Actually, the desk looked like he had molded it out of wet clay, then decided at the last minute to drop a wrecking ball into the middle before allowing it to fully set. Mostly, Jazz³ surmised, everything that had been level with his thrummer had been utterly destroyed by the shock and recoil. He was just thankful that the door had given out under his weight, otherwise he'd be just as dead as Misery.

Thinking of which, he limped through into his office and stood at the entryway, eyeing the hole in the wall that had blown out with Misery. "Dumb bitch," he spat. "Can never trust a 'con." Turning, the white and black jet put his right gauntlet on the wall and carried himself lazily towards the lift at the end of the hall. He just needed a quick fix in the CR Chamber, and he'd be back in action by the time Depth Charge returned to chastise him for killing the female.

Just as he reached the end of the hall, he pressed the button to retrieve the lift. Waiting patiently, he whistled a tune to pass the time. Hearing the chime announce the arrival of the lift, he stuck his hand upon the wall for support while the doors opened. Jazz³ had just peeled his hand from the wall when a plasma blast caught his vambrace and ate through the metal to the frame.

The attack had caught him off guard, causing him to scream out as he fell through the opened doors and into the lift. "Damnit!" he cried, pain receptors firing as he tried to roll onto his back. He stared at the leaking stub where his left hand and forearm should have been, phantom sensations flexing the dactyls that weren't there. The next second, Jazz³ looked up in time to see Misery's energon blade projecting from the back of her gauntlet and severing his other arm clean from the pauldron. "How are you still alive?"

Grabbing him by his right foot, she spun the black and white flyer the rest of the way into the lift and climbed aboard, punching the button to take them to Shock Therapy's tower chambers.

"Primus damn you!" Jazz³ mewled, voice straining when he realized his internal attempts to connect his communications link had failed. Either the aftershock of his thrummers had knocked his sensors out, or someone was jamming them. Judging from the highlighted destination on the lift's control panel, the Autobot-sired inferred the latter must have been true. "How the hell are you alive?"

The Decepticon female didn't answer; instead, she rolled her helm from side to side, popping the stiff joints that had just completed repairs. Other than that, she made no further acknowledgement of the beaten flyer.

"What the hell are you?" he whined, using his left leg to shove himself as far away from her as the lift would allow. "Answer me, damnit!"

When the lift gave a sedated jolt and the doors slid open, the female Decepticon clutched Jazz³ by his damaged leg and drug him into the tower. Much to his chagrin, the Autobot-sired rasped every curse he could think of until Misery slung him into the railing that prevented him from falling into the deepest section of the tower.

"You brought him here!" Shock Therapy descended upon the two, looking from one to the other she tried to discern Misery's intention.

"I should've known you were both in on this!" Jazz³ hissed, then cut himself off.

The expression Misery turned upon him said at once for him to keep his mouth shut. The usual vibrance of gold that highlighted her optics had dissipated, leaving only the intensive malignity that he had always heard Decepticons possessed. It was that very same look he had accused her of giving Depth Charge, and now it was upon him and amplified.

To Shock Therapy, Misery spoke with deathly truth, "Rather him than you."

The violet Decepticon female hesitated in her web of cables, anxiously looking from Misery to the Autobot-sired and back. "W-what does that mean?"

"His presence here will only ensure you receive your reward." Misery pointed an upturned hand at the monitor after both Shock Therapy and Jazz³ reacted with the same quizzical faces. Silencing any further remark from the monitor, Misery told her, "Our agreement is in effect. Do not permit your lack of field experience to limit your productivity."

Shock Therapy gulped after the female turned to leave. Looking back to the wounded Autobot-sired, she reconsidered that she might have made the incorrect choice by listening to her grandsire.

~" 'Slake, you there?"~

Air Slake tapped his comm. link as his twin walked over to listen. "Yes," he replied to Jazz³. "Did you find a match?"

Air Lock withdrew a datapad from his subspace and made himself ready to type if needed.

~"Yes indeedy. I've got a match for colonial resident Tinsel, manager of research and development for Tyr Corp."~ The brothers could hear the third in command typing at his desk. ~"His office is in Ward Five, Tier Twenty-six. I think you guys should go knocking on doors and find out how long he's been missing."~

"Copy that." He closed his comm. link and looked to his brother. "I guess this means we should wrap up here."

"You really think it's worth going?" the elder brother returned the datapad to his subspace. "I mean, aren't we just going through the motions at this point?"

"Okay," Air-slake pointed to the droid guarding the corpse behind his brother. "Shoot him."

Without hesitation, Air Lock drew his weapon, pointed to the droid, but found his finger frozen a millimeter above the trigger. The droid looked up, peacefully awaiting orders as it chirred. The elder jet forced himself to put his finger to the trigger, but even still he could not shoot. "Okay, fine," Air Lock holstered his gun, then pointed to his brother. "You do it."

Like his brother, Air-slake drew his weapon unquestioningly, pointed at the droid, but holstered after a minute's frustration. "Alright, so that plus your inability to leave Omicron says to me that neither of us has the gumption to step outside destiny's course. Can we go do what we've been ordered now?"

"I guess so," Air Lock rolled his pauldrons, threw his helm back in resignation, and narrowed his optics. From their proximity to the bulkhead that separated Ward Five from Four, he could peer all the way up the artificial sky into the conical domes that enclosed Wards Two and One. "I never took the time to notice before, but the way One is set up makes it look like some sort of hole in the sky."

Aware his brother had put a reassuring hand on his shoulder again, Air Lock heard his brother say, "No wonder the miners think poorly of us. We separated ourselves from them and made a heaven out of the newer wards." Air-slake took his twin by the pauldrons and forced Air Lock to look at him. "We go where we're supposed to now, but I'm with you later. We fight. We try to save who we can. But until we know what we're up against, we don't know what to look for."

"Alright," the eldest nodded. "Let's get the droids to clean up here. We'll go to Tyr Corp like you want . . ."

"Wait, wait, please don't-" Stricture drove his energon blade into the vocal cords of the scientist, using his other hand to rip the smaller Maximal's remaining leg from his body.

"Sorry, what was that?" the silver and blue Decepticon rose up, cupping his hand to his audio for emphasis. "Doesn't sound like you enjoy being dismembered. You know who else doesn't like being dismembered? My friend you kept in your research department!"

Hooking his dactyls over the scientist's helm, the second teleported them both into the bottom gallery of the operations theatre. He slammed the scientist into the paneling, tossed him about, and shoved his face over the brim of the container. "You see him? You see him? That's my friend! I've known him for over Nine. Million. Stellarcycles. And YOU think he's just some lowly experiment!"

From inside the container, an emerald light burned up at them with as much hatred as could be managed for a bot whose face had not been completely restored. That lone light pinpricked behind the lens, narrowing its focus upon the scientist that quivered and shook with what sound he could muster.

"You better stare at him nice and long, you slag-sucking saurian, because he's staring at you. Xyston's memorizing you, and when he's whole, Xyston's gonna eat you," Stricture finished in sing-song. Jerking the scientist up, the male Decepticon threw him into a vacant section of the upper gallery that he had reserved for the scientists who had the most involvement in Xyston's torture. By putting them in the back, he hoped to make each one all the more savoury for the behemoth.

"Hey down there," Stricture became the picture of friendliness - smiling and giving the airs of a perfectly sane, completely competent gentleman. "I know it's been awhile since we last saw one another, but I wanted to tell you that our lady is not angry with you for attempting to kill her, nor has she broken your arrangement." Pushing a dactyl to his lips to shush the non-existent reply, Stricture continued, "Only a few dozen more pieces to go, and we'll have you whole again. Believe me when I say, we're looking forward to your return. So much, in fact, that we've prepared a little gift for you."

Stricture rolled the finger from his lips and pointed to the space behind him, where more than twenty scientists had been dismembered, restrained, and made audience to the behemoth's return to glory. "There'll be more like them once you finish here. Thousands more. Just for you. A gesture from Lady Misery to you."

The belayed thought had occurred to him that the behemoth's vocalizer and mouth had not been reconstituted, so he went with what he had. "Knock once for no, twice for yes." Stricture leaned further over the edge, putting him within striking distance of the behemoth - had he been completely reformed, that is. "Do you still accept the terms of the original bargain, do you still hold alliance with Lord Megatron and his Decepticon army?"

Knock, went the first stroke of the skeletal arm against the container. Knock.

"So glad to hear it!" Stricture clapped his hands, turned to face the captivated crowd, and disappeared to collect the remaining parts.

Lunging forward, Depth Charge slashed at Minstrel, clashed their blades together, then veered towards the second blue and black male and struck out. Since Mace was prepared, he parried the leviathan's gunblade then punched the other across the enclosed terrain. Had the Maximal known the hidden breakthroughs and galleries, or even the intakes, he might have been able to out run the three and lure them into a trap of reinforcements. As things were currently going, he hadn't a chance of obtaining backup or outrunning them, and matters were made worse by the fact that all three of his opponents were skilled.

"What's wrong, baby?" Masquerade sliced over Depth Charge's helm, inciting the other to duck and roll backwards into a rib pillar. While she withdrew her blade from the cave wall, Mace leapt over his factory sister and stabbed at Depth Charge. The security chief threw up his arm and directed the Decepticon's blade with the back of his vambrace. Just like Masquerade, Mace's energon blade drove deep into the support beam, giving the blue and purple Maximal the opportunity to punch the other in the face.

The punch came too fast for Mace to close his battlemask, so the leviathan's attack made full impact. Diving away from him, Depth Charge swung his gunblade around, gripped it with both hands, and plunged at the second male. Minstrel extended his second energon blade, crossed them in defense, and caught the gunblade above his helm. While Depth Charge had meant to slice the Decepticon in two, he instead smirked at his good fortune. "Well, ain't that a bitch."

Minstrel had a moment to raise an eyearch in puzzlement, but when his optics dropped along the blade, he saw that the hilt of the gunblade was angled at his stomach. Pulling the trigger, the close range attack blew through the Decepticon and hurled him into the far wall.

"Minstrel!" Masquerade ran at the security chief, leaped over a pile of debris, and engaged him in an acrobatic-laced melee. Her smaller frame gave her the ability to slip by the leviathan to evade, but it also meant that each time he planted a punch in her side, she was tossed back. The very second Mace found an opening, he attacked as well, and Depth Charge was suddenly avoiding two energon blades by ducking as they passed where his helm had once been.

Backpedaling, the Maximal jostled the male away from them, blocked Masquerade's slice, then spun and slung his gunblade at her face. Dropping to one knee, the female was halfway to blocking the gunblade with her energon blade while she expanded her battlemask to shield her face. She had expected the strike to connect, but when the gunblade wavered inches over her face, Masquerade thinned her lips in consideration and tilted her helm to the side. "Something about my mask?"

Depth Charge instinctually retreated as Masquerade rose to her feet, though the entire time his gunblade remained level with her helm should she make a move to attack. Utilizing his distraction, Mace pounced on Depth Charge from behind and held him fast, leaving the Maximal's front exposed to his sister for whenever she so chose her opportunity. "Does my face remind you of someone? Perhaps my sister Misery?" Masquerade laughed, lightly caressing her energon blade over the security chief's chest. "Oh, this is so cute it's pathetic!"

In return, Depth Charge narrowed his optics at the female who was now visually identical to Misery. "Let me go and I'll show ya pathetic!"

Behind him, Mace threw back his helm and brayed in the leviathan's audios. "This is too good! But I am disappointed by his hesitation - doesn't make it as much fun!"

Struggling to his feet, Minstrel covered his stomach and bent forward, shifting his gravity so that the silvery mech flowed towards his hand instead of down his back. He, like his siblings, tittered with excitement.

"Maybe we should ask her if she really wants him dead," Masquerade hooted. "What'd'ya think, Mace? Shall we call her up and ask what she really wants done with him?"

"What the hell are you goin' on about?" Feeling he had missed some shared, unspoken joke at his expense, the Maximal jerked his pauldrons against Mace's hold, but found he could not break free.

"Misery," Masquerade chortled. "She is our sister, after all. And she would have so much fun with you if she knew you liked her with your little Maximal crush."

Depth Charge hissed. His attempts to charge the female resulted in him being knocked to his knees and his arms wrenched tight behind his wings by Mace. "Why don't ya call her. I'm sure she'd love to why you're down here killing miners."

"Boy have you been a fool." The female Decepticon lowered herself dangerously close to the security chief's face, then whispered, "She ordered us to kill them."

"That's a lie," the leviathan snapped, "Misery wouldn't do that to the miners."

"And you're so sure?" Masquerade shook with laughter before raising her blade to strike. "Regardless, I think I'm tired of this banter."

" 'RADE!" Mace threw the Maximal aside and ran to his factory sister, catching her body as it fell. Behind the female, Cybershark slung his energon sword clean of Masquerade's mechfluid, then went to help his chief.

"NO!" Minstrel charged at the two security officers and drew his handgun, but before he could get a shot off Depth Charge had disarmed and cut through the Decepticon's spark chamber. The explosion from Minstrel's spark warped the metal immediately over his chest, leaving behind an empty, sizzling chamber.

" 'Rade, 'Rade, speak to me!" Mace yauped while shaking her lifeless body, completely oblivious to his brother's death. "This isn't right - we're supposed to be unstoppable together! 'Rade wake up!"

Cybershark leveled the edge of his energon sword at the remaining Decepticon. "I think it's time you surrender."

"You," Mace sluggishly turned to the second, clutching the female in his arms. "You will pay for this."

Depth Charge stepped up beside his second in command, aimed his gunblade at the Decepticon, and ordered, "Ya better start talkin'."

Mace snorted in contempt, "You may have killed her, but when Mac' finds out, you'll be dead. You'll die - you hear me? You're world's gonna end!"

"You mean like legitimate nihility?" Cybershark barked in return, the pores on his snout catching the mix of emotions that overtook the male. His words drove deep, and he could sense the nerve it struck with the Decepticon as it set off mental alarms. The second grinned predatory teeth in anticipation - he knew the first retaliatory attack would be against him now, rather than Depth Charge.

"Stand up," Depth Charge ordered.

The Decepticon male looked once to his brother's body, realizing for the first time that he was alone. But what Cybershark had said still rung in his mind. Legitimate nihility. The only way that the Maximal could know that phrasing were if he had spoken to someone like Machiavellian. Or worse - someone like Misery. Realizing for the first time that he had been played, Mace bemoaned the factory sister in his arms as he sat himself upon revenge.

Cautiously, he rose up, carting Masquerade's shell with him. Leveling his helm at the security chief, the black and blue male flicked a side-long glance to the teal Maximal in front of him. Dropping his sister's body, he ripped the handgun from his side and instead aimed for Depth Charge. However, Cybershark was ready for him by slicing his sword up and through the Decepticon, cleaving him pristinely in two. Reacting to the energon, Mace's spark imploded in his chest, leaving him to fall dead alongside his sister.

"Damnit," the security chief gripped his gunblade and resisted the temptation to throw it in frustration. "We needed him alive!"

"I know," Cybershark lamented. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Depth Charge shook his helm, looking between the three fallen. "How'd ya find me?"

"My sense of smell," the second pointed to his snout, tapping it once before sheathing his energon sword with his other hand. "It works a little like sonar for me. Even in the dark, I can find all the ins and outs of this place."

"Good to know," Depth Charge crossed over to Minstrel's body and examined it, hoping that maybe he hadn't extinguished the black and blue male's spark. Disappointedly, he found there would be no interrogation of any of the three Decepticons. "How's things the way ya came through?"

"Clear, for the most part. Though it's more than just Four and Eight that are flooded with mojestern. Tunnels nineteen through forty-six are completely under. There's no way anyone's coming out of those alive."

"Damnit," the blue and purple male slammed the butt of his fist into the nearest rib beam to him. Loose dirt and grind rained down, but nothing large enough to cause worry.

"It's worse than that," Cybershark turned to face his commanding officer.

The leviathan leveled with him, awaiting the horrible news that he knew would follow. "Well, let's have it."

Cybershark nodded, stepped close to the security chief, and gripped his pauldron supportively. "Your world really is gonna end." The second sucker punched the other, knocking him to the ground and into temporary stasis. Stifling a gloating cheer, the teal male lifted his hand to his insignia, waved his dactyls over it, and watched as the scarlet mark shifted and was replaced by the greenish insectoid emblem.

The partition slid away, and the group of miners who had sought cover in one of the reinforced adits collectively turned to the door. In front, Vulture met the three Decepticons at the door, holding up complacent hands. "I tried callin' Manoeuver, but I can't get through. The tunnel's blocked and we can make it down to the shuttles."

"We know," Machiavellian punched the representative speaker back into the room. While the other miners picked him up, the black and blue Decepticons tossed a box into the room, then shut the door after them. Malice braced it shut while Muffle secured the door from the outside. "Now, let's go up top and meet with our sister and her paramour."

"What about the others?" Malice grunted, listening to the mass of screams that rang out from the other side. The box's timer must have released the mojestern gas.

To the descending screams, Machiavellian retorted, "They know when and where to meet."

"WHERE ARE THEY!"

Stricture slung the last scientist into the first row of prisoners, pursued him instantaneously via teleportation, and grasped the Maximal by the throat. He hissed, "Where. Are. They?"

"The-they've b-b-been sent off!" As the only scientist who was wholly functional, the Maximal shielded himself as best he could.

Optics widened, teeth gnashed, and Stricture cocked his helm to the side. Raising the petite Maximal with one hand, he gritted, "Where?"

"V-v-various labs! I d-don't know where! Please, believe me!"

Allowing his ire to overtake him, the silver and gold Decepticon extended his hand in the direction of the scientist's leg, then channeled his ability into the Maximal. Driving the scientist to the floor, he activated his teleporter and, rather than displacing the section of floor, the Maximal's leg fused with the molecular structure, trapping him.

Ignoring the scream of the lead scientist, Stricture teleported to the side of the tank, settled both hands on the edge, and peered over. Aside from a leg, an arm, and his vocalizer, the behemoth was almost completely restored. "Xyston. They have shipped your other parts away."

The beast's emerald optics upturned, and with his right hand he pointed to his lips.

"Hungry?" Stricture looked puzzled. The second considered the two knocks upon the container, then ran a dactyl over his own lips. "I know the energy you consume fuels your power, but can you now do the same with physical material?"

Knock. Knock.

"Congratulations!" a fiendish smile overtook his face, and Stricture turned upon the head scientist. "You've just been nominated."

The scientist's resounding screams echoed throughout the room once he had been jerked free of the floor and tossed into the tank. Fortunately for them, the remaining scientists had not been able to witness feeding frenzy as Xyston tore into their leader. Unfortunately, they could hear it, and their imaginations were just as detrimental.

Then came silence.

Stricture, who had watched the mutilation, stepped back slowly. Bang, went the behemoth's fist into the tank, jolting the scientists as upright as their restraints permitted. Bang - this time the metal siding of the tank gave way, leaving behind puncture marks from Xyston's talons. As he reached the top, Xyston's red right hand loomed over the edge of the tank, followed by his left that appeared to have the silver and brown colours of the scientist he had just devoured.

The nanites of his body completed the connection to the makeshift arm, then began reshaping it into the grey, skeletal framework with partial red armour covering from his pauldron down to his elbow. The five amourless digits of his left hand flexed in anticipation.

"More," he said and leapt at the buffet of bodies Stricture had arranged.

"Misery, I just received transmissions from Cybershark and Stricture. Cybershark will be meeting with Machiavellian and his team in Ward Nine, and Stricture has successfully freed Xyston."

~"Splendid,"~ Misery mused. ~"I am en route to the docking plank of the security tower. Shock Therapy has successfully engaged all systems per your council."~

Taciturn cackled and narrowed his red optics. He stared out the window and towards the TRUNDLE building. If he used his imagination, he could picture every detail of Xyston's rampant feast taking place. Parting his lips, the black and red Decepticon spoke without moving his mouth. "Normally, I would save my congratulations until the end of our operation, but I commend your success thus far."

~"Pointless flattery,"~ she chastised, paused, then pondered aloud. ~"You are still within Tyr Corp?"~

"I have remained as you commanded me," he answered truthfully.

~"For your restraint, I will reward you. Before I incapacitated Jazz Cubed, he dispatched Air Raid's sired to your location."~

Optics widening, Taciturn's predatory smile overtook his face. Could she really-?

~"Roast them. Boil them. Tear. Them. Apart."~

"As my queen commands, so shall it be." Taciturn rose up, began navigating the Tyr Corp building with the security cameras. Finding the building empty, he expanded his search locally while he mentally planned his trap.

"Unghhhh," Depth Charge grasped at his helm, sliding his palm over his optics and shaking his head at the same time. "What the hell . . .?"

~"You made this entirely too easy."~

"The hell?" The comm. links were working again? The leviathan realized the darkness was not from the connection to his optics; rather, it was the obsidian chamber of the mine preventing him from seeing. Switching to infrared, he began searching for anything that would indicate a way out.

~"By now you've realized that you're shut in,"~ Cybershark stated. ~"I made sure that there would be no safe way out for you. You're completely cut off."~

He wasn't sure if he should be very angry, or very disappointed. Instead of lashing out, Depth Charge settled himself mentally into the grey area he always went before a kill - completely clear, hyper focused, and entirely amicable. "Why?"

Cybershark grinned, shuffled his way out of the Tunnel Twelve exit in Ward Nine, and came to stand next to Machiavellian. Although Misery had explained the teal Maximal turncoat's position, the Decepticon male still eyed him with suspicion. ~"Despite what you may think, Misery did not come here to make you her bedfellow, she came here with the intention of freeing her lover. She has done so. Now, this colony will supplicate itself to Xyston's whim."~

The security chief ran his hands over a seam in the mine, trying to discern if it were delicate enough to push through on his own. He'd seen first hand the devastation the behemoth left behind; yet, instead of allowing the memories to creep into his present thoughts, he asked again, "Why?"

~"Because he's hungry,"~ Cybershark answered, teeth snapping the air. ~"Xyston is a god walking among pissants, and he's been asleep for a very long time. He does what anyone would do when they wake to find their home infested: they go for fuel and light a match."~

"What kinda fuel's he after? Pyre? Oil? Energon?" The seam didn't budge. Perhaps he could cut through it with his gunblade. Reaching for the weapon that should have been on his back, the leviathan sighed when he discovered it was not there.

~"Sparks."~

Depth Charge stopped moving, body suddenly overcome with dread. He filed the thought away, determined to deal with it only after he freed himself.

After a moment, Cybershark raised an eyearch to the black and blue Decepticons, daring them to say something in protest. Misery had given him authority to speak, and if Machiavellian did not approve, then he had standing orders to take it up with the female and her paramour. ~"Specifically, any of them he can get his hands on, which is why I locked you up in the mines."~

Depth Charge paused, dactyls gauntlet-deep in the seam, trying to pull out what rocks, materials, and dirt that he could. Cybershark shut him in here to protect him? If that were true, then perhaps he was correct in not rising to anger. But the fact still remained: Xyston was now free and Misery was helping him. Which meant that Depth Charge was honour and duty bound to defend the colony against them. Slag it, he hated rocks and hard places, no pun intended.

~"Since you defeated her three assassins, you've earned a chance to live. For now. But that's only if you stay out of Xyston's way."~

The thought struck him with the subtly of a steel pipe to the helm. Cybershark had killed two of them, yet he was diverting all credit to Depth Charge. Either he wanted to evade suspicion from the company he kept, or he wanted to build up Depth Charge's credibility to deter possible attacks. Regardless of the reason, he played along, "Misery loves me enough to keep me safe, but she'll let ya run around Xyston like a yappy puppy. Do ya even know what he's capable of? Because I do, an' it won't be pretty when he eats your face off while you're still functional."

~"I know what Xyston is capable of, Depth Charge,"~ sighed the shark. ~"Though I could never convince you to understand, I would rather spend my days hunting prawn, not being hunted."~

"And ya think he won't hunt you?" Depth Charge choked back a laugh. He'd succeeded so far in digging a hole in the wall the size of his chest, but it was nowhere near the depth or height he needed to escape. As a matter of fact, he wasn't even sure there was something on the other side for him to escape through, but it wouldn't stop him from trying.

Cybershark was silent. He flicked his crimson eyes from Machiavellian to Muffle to Malice. Misery's three factory brothers eyed him speculatively, waiting for any sense of betrayal that they expected from the former Maximal. In their eyes, a traitor was a traitor, and never to be trusted outside of the extent of his usefulness. The teal male could even hear the wheels grinding in their helms as they thought up possible excuses to kill him on the spot. Finally, he snapped coldly, ~"I'm a shark. I am never the hunted."~

Legs crossed, fist banged against the seat, dactyls trailed his mouth after licking away precious mechfluid. Xyston tossed his helm back in pure, unmitigated bliss. The behemoth's optics rolled back, shutting halfway as his systems absorbed the last traces of energy the final scientists had.

So much bliss. It had all been such bliss.

Bits of bots littered the floor at Xyston's feet like empty oil canisters after a day-long binge. Drunkenly he crawled onto his hands, rose up, and threw back his helm in a mixture of ecstasy fury, and relief. For too long he had been contained, experimented upon, tortured. Now was his time to give back upon the Maximals one hundred fold.

Calling upon Stricture, he ordered, "Take me to ma fierté."

The second in command rose up, tri-wings shaking loose from his box seat to the massacre. "Of course. I am under orders from Misery to first collect our party."

"So be it," Xyston extended his gauntlet to Stricture, palm up, talons reflexively stretching against the restraints that were no longer binding him. The silver and gold male stepped up to the behemoth, waited for Xyston to roll his hand over, then locked his dactyls around the other's in a sign of fealty.

In a flash of smoke, Stricture carried them both through jump points until they settled in proximity to Cybershark and the three factory brothers. They shared a brief exchange, took hold of Stricture's wings, then began the process a second time.

They broke upon arrival at the security tower, and while the brothers, Cybershark, and Stricture walked to the ledge of the platform to stand next to Misery, Xyston remained where he was. Waiting.

Turning with arms crossed, Misery stopped short and did not spare glance upon the behemoth. Instead, she was met with a kowtow from Stricture to his captain. "Lady Misery, my captain. Permit me to announce the arrival and return of our honoured comrade: Xyston."

Misery extended a nod to her second, dismissed him by turning, and supplicated her hands to her paramour. "Ma modestie, I welcome you once more unto our ranks."

Heavily he stomped to her, each footfall in accent to their sparkbeats. Coming to leer over her, Xyston rose a finger tenderly to Misery's bevor. "Ma fierté, my most belovéd queen. I have dreamt of you for a time, but now fate has rendered you to me. Once again we are united, bound until the end, until Ifa'sé."

The female Decepticon allowed a smile to grace her lips. She admitted, "I have missed you, ma modestie."

"And I, you, ma fierté." He bent, drew her lips to his, and tasted of her metal and her emotions. The sensations he had sampled from the scientists over the years were always arrogance and false blitheness, but never true pride. Misery never sought above her station, but she inspired others to be greater than they had previously dreamed. Standing at her side inspired her comrades to better themselves, but the intimacy with the female Decepticon like he had made him better. She was his ineffable pride.

Pulling away slightly, Xyston found nothing had changed between them. As always, any shared touch between the two eventually surmounted to limbs wrapped one over the other in some pale attempt to become unified metaphysically. The distance between them had disappeared wherever their armour permitted. He brushed his lips tenderly over hers for a second helping, shuddering as the wave of her emotion came crashing into him like adrenaline.

Misery found a moment to speak amidst their concupiscent kisses, "Ma modestie, I trust my second conveyed my message."

He blinked clarity into his emerald eyes, "It would please me greatly to hear you speak the words, ma fierté."

"A dowry of mech and metal, brought in full," she said. Mouth upturning to a smile, Misery went on, "This colony is my gift to you, ma modestie, as evidence of my commitment. Eat of it. Taste of it. Drink until your spark is content."

Baring fangs and settling a battlemask into place, Xyston rasped, "Only if you share in it, ma fierté."

She nodded, signaling to her second by waving him over. Choosing this time to walk, Stricture came to their side and knelt down before the two. "Post yourself within the scaffold. Do not permit any security officers into the tower." To her comm. link, Misery said, "Shock Therapy."

~"Yes."~

"Engage all systems."

~"Yes."~

Static crackled spontaneously through the emergency speakers, giving not only the tower, but the entirety of Ward One and beyond a melodious hymn. Buildings and transit units that had been rotationally inactive shook the slumber from their frames, eyes of light and motorous yawns slowed the active denizens to a colony-wide pause. They knew instinctually that the sectors relegated to the interstellar version of night shift had been closed for two megacycles or more.

Bots passing each other on the streets and at the terminals turned to one another, commenting casually yet tentatively upon the over-time companies thoughtlessly deemed necessary. One said to his friend, "So strange," and his friend answered, "It's too bright. I'm not used to it."

Floating above wards One and Two, standing at the base of the tower upon the platform, Misery and Xyston peered over the edge and down upon the colony. Behind them, Misery's brothers came to stand off to the side, with Malice taking a seat with his legs hanging over the platform. On her other side, Cybershark dropped to all fours, pattered to the edge like the others, and bared rows of fangs at the colony.

Overhead, Stricture climbed into the scaffolding of the platform, roosted in the beams, and withdrew his railgun from his back. Raising the sight, he forcibly rolled the rifle in his hands until the modifications left it ready for sniper shooting.

Clapping her hands together once, the female Decepticon did not startle her company as she tardily pulled her palms apart, forming a tiny magnetic ball of energy between her hands. Once the orb came to waver between her gauntlets, Misery directed it over the edge, gently forcing it down to the center of Ward One. All the while, she fed it more energy until it steadily grew in size, and while opaque to the unaided eye, her sensors told her the ball had become the relative diameter of a quarter-mile.

"A new addition, I see. So lovely, so gamy," Xyston ran his talons over Misery's pauldrons from behind, caressing the lines of her wings and smoothing his palms along the major flutes. Trailing his hands over her as he came to stand beside the black and blue female, Xyston opened the shells upon his back that hid his galva-conductors. Static popped and danced as a charge rose from the shells to his pauldrons. Jolts gained in size and momentum, branched down his arms, and coalesced into his hands.

Behind them, Stricture hummed to himself until eventually he began singing, "And now the kingdom comes / crashing down undone . . ."

Electricity erupted from the behemoth's hands and zigzagged through the artificial sky. Reaching the ball of magnetic energy, the stopgap bomb exploded and cascaded its blast wave through the colony. Sector by sector shut down, residents in the immediate blast radius fell into stasis. Only through the strength of the shields did those in the tower stand unaffected, and only by preparing the internal shielding of Tyr Corp's systems did that building remain online and functional.

"Time has stopped before us / the sky cannot ignore us," the silver and gold male continued, growing louder to be heard over the secondary wave of the electromagnetic pulse. "No one can separate us / for we are all that is left . . ."

"Decepticons, mobilize," Misery waved a hand to Machiavellian, who in turn jumped into the air with Muffle at his side. Malice slid over the edge and spread his wings, using his thrusters to propel himself after his brothers. Cybershark shoved off with his arms and ascended, leaving Misery and Xyston to follow the precession.

Flying at her side, Xyston stretched his body in anticipation before laughing. "Let the feast begin."