Get in the
discord server get in it NOOOOOW.
LOG-2-003.
302 Stellar Cycles BRE (Before-Rift-Event.)
The journey through the dimly lit corridors of the
Peaceful Tyranny could be described as eerily silent if I were the more dramatic sort, broken only by the occasional clank of my pedes steadily impacting against the metal floor and walls in order to propel me further through zero gravity.
In turn, my temporary frame's camera scanned my current surroundings with a near inaudible whirr, searching for any sign of movement or threat as I advanced towards the area where my Sol units had reported encountering heavy resistance. Behind me, what was left of the initial assault force that I'd managed to retrieve parodied my movements in absolute silence, save for the subtle signals shared between themselves on the local network connecting us all.
The closer I got, the more evident the signs of battle became. Scorch marks, dented armour, and the occasional flicker of damaged machinery littered the passageways, showing off just what I'd missed while securing the other half of the ship. The battered, savaged corpse of what I recognised to be Helex lay faceplate down on the floor outside what seemed to be a medbay, surrounded by the burnt out frames of my drone troops. Just nearby, a doorway that had visibly been cut open lay waiting for further exploration.
The remaining survivors of the DJD hadn't gone down without a fight, that was for certain. And judging by the evidence...there were still some to hunt down and confront.
Lovely.
As I rounded a corner, I came upon the scene of a
second skirmish. Sol units lay scattered across the floor, some still operational but damaged, while others were completely offline. Opposite them, lay another door, this one rather clearly welded shut.
"Hm."
It was with a start that my frame fell to its pedes seconds later, the artificial gravity in this part of the ship seemingly having been restored through the actions of someone other than myself.
Sweeping a servo forward and letting my internal commands filter throughout the rest of the network, I watched the door carefully as my surviving 'squad' advanced, some of them kneeling down and beginning preliminary repairs on their stricken comrades while others readied their weapons.
[UNIT DELTA REPORT: BRIDGE CAPTURE COMPLETE.]
The sudden ping of a notification drew my attention for less than a second, before I focused back on the door, my servo clenching around the handle of the gladius in its grip.
"Patch it into the network."
[CONFIRMED.]
The feeling of the ship around me being forcibly absorbed by the unseen cloud acting as my connection to the Sols was...strange. Not necessarily
unpleasant, but strange nonetheless. New, in a word.
And just like that, I had access to
everything. I could lock or unlock doors at will, rather than requiring drone units to individually hack them. I could see through each and every camera and surveillance device, the one just beyond my current obstacle showing the three remaining DJD members clearly trying to access a nearby terminal.
I could take control of the ship and use its manouvering thrusters to force a terminal entry into Cybertron's orbit, if I so wished. I could turn the remaining security systems of the ship on its former owners, reducing them to naught but slag in a matter of seconds.
However, I wanted these ones alive.
So instead, I did something a little simpler. I accessed the intercom and let my voice ring out into the isolated hallway the three Decepticons I was watching had effectively sealed themselves in.
---
"Decepticon Justice Division."
Three helms glanced upwards as one, all with different expressions.
Nickel glanced at Tarn just in time to see the large mech clench his servos with what was quite clearly homicidal intent, even as Kaon (who they had somehow had the fortune of running into during their retreat away from the medbay) muttered quietly upon recognising the voice.
"Shockwave...scrap."
Heedless of their reactions, the presumed scientist behind the intercom continued.
"Helex, Tesarus, and Vos have all been either disabled or offlined. What used to be Agent One One Three has been recovered for study. The rest of your vessel has been secured by my forces."
A slight pause, as if the mech was considering something. The next word that came out of the intercom was so matter of fact that Nickel almost felt as if she'd sprung a glitch in her processor.
"Surrender."
Tarn's grinding servos stilled, their leader tilting his helm and stepping forward with an almost relaxed gait-
"Any and all outgoing signals are currently being contained within the intersecting hallway you've all conveniently decided to lock yourselves inside of. Additionally, each doorway that you've welded shut has a minimum of eight drones behind it. All have been equipped with explosive weaponry."
The mech
almost sounded amused, for someone who was well known for having undergone mnemosurgery.
"You have ten seconds to get down on the ground, with your servos interlocked behind your helms. Ten-"
As the number slowly began to tick down, Kaon's bottomless black optics turned to glance at Tarn.
"This is
Shockwave. Getting captured wouldn't
exactly be preferable in our situation."
The smaller mech's counterpart nodded.
"Fake a surrender. We'll just have to fight our way out."
---
As the trio of Cybertronians began to kneel down on the ground, I tilted my helm in bemusement.
Keeping the audio on and risking Tarn using his quite literally deadly voice had been a gamble. But it was one that had paid off, it seemed.
Stepping back, I allowed a Sol to pass me by, the drone taking a knee and shouldering a disposable missile launcher I had equipped one member of every squad with.
The rest of the faux-mechs around me were already moving as the rocket propelled grenade was, well,
propelled into the blocked door, metal shearing apart with a screech as the entire damned thing was blown inwards. Shrapnel flew through the air, pinging against the carefully forged armour of my Sols as the assault team surged forward, rifles already up and firing a veritable rain of bullets towards the stunned trio of DJD members.
Tarn was, predictably, the first to recover, the large mech's optics blazing a burning crimson as he levelled an oversized blaster cannon towards my charging drones.
By the time the
majority of them had made it through the chokepoint that was the blown open doorway, three had already had their frames torn apart with energon based ammunition.
The situation was rather evident. Tarn, Nickel and Kaon were outnumbered, and they were outgunned.
Thus, I called for two squads worth of reinforcements just in case, watching the battle rage on from the safety of my proxy frame and analyzing the combat data streaming in from my Sol units.
---
Three. Four. And five. Five of the enemy dispatched before they could reach him.
He would attempt to
speak. To reduce them to writhing, spasming buckets of bolts on the floor before him.
If he could get the damned chance to get a
word out without being shot at!
As the battle unfolded in the cramped confines of the corridor, Tarn found himself facing off against two more of what he could only presume were Shockwave's newest creations, both of them wielding short blades crackling with heated energy. With a quiet sigh, he unsheathed his own oversized armblade, its serrated edge gleaming in the dim light of their makeshift arena.
Presumably, they'd decided that melee would offer them better prospects compared to their previously ranged confrontation. He would have to educate them on their poor choices in life.
Regardless of his inner thoughts, the drones advanced with a silent precision that he could appreciate in an opponent, their blades slashing through the air with deadly intent. Tarn met their assault head on, his own weapon moving with fluid grace as he parried their first few probing strikes. The sound of metal meeting metal echoed through the corridor, punctuated by the occasional burst of gunfire as Nickel and Kaon engaged other boarders just behind him.
Despite his carefully refined skill in combat, Tarn found himself hard pressed to keep up with the relentless assault of the machines. Their synchronized movements and constant, relentless attacks forced the mech onto the defensive, each blow landing with strut jarring force against his heavy armour.
But he had not become the
leader of the Decepticon Justice Division based off of loyalty to the cause alone. With a roar of carefully released anger, he countered their attacks with a special kind of ferocity, one born of desperation. Capture by
Shockwave was something that most bots had nightmares about, in a similar vein to those who considered the thought of a visit from the DJD to be a unique kind of terror. Thus, his armblade became a blur of motion as he lashed out with lightning fast strikes, aiming for what few vulnerable joints and exposed armour points he could identify on the pair of drones.
Unfortunately, the two had seemingly decided to fight back with
equal tenacity, their glowing blades leaving trails of searing heat in their wake. Tarn gritted his dentae behind his mask against the pain of yet another burning hit tearing yet
more armour from his frame, his optics narrowing as he focused all his energy on breaking through their defenses.
Then, in a moment of opportunity, he saw his chance. With a swift movement, he feinted to the left, drawing one of the boarders off balance. With a powerful sweep of his armblade, he cleaved through its torso, sending sparks flying as it crumpled to the ground. A quick shot from his ranged weapon to its thick helm finished it off after that.
He had little time to savour his victory, however. The remaining drone pressed its newfound advantage, redoubling its attack with renewed effort as it moved to exploit his exposed form. Tarn fought on, his movements becoming more erratic as he struggled to keep up with its relentless assault.
Then, in a stroke of rather horrid luck, a stray jab from its short blade slammed into the exposed connecting cables of his blaster cannon, damaging the weapon's firing mechanism and causing it to shut down rapidly in order to prevent a potential overload. With a curse, Tarn discarded the damaged gun, relying solely on his armblade to see him through the rest of the duel.
Despite the setback, the proud Cybertronian refused to falter in the face of mere
droids. With a loud snarl (an attempt to let his comrades know he was still kicking, more than anything else), he launched himself at the remaining machine, his armblade flashing in the air as he delivered a series of devastating blows. With each strike, he felt the subtle thrill of combat coursing through the depths of his twisted spark, alongside the deeply internalised knowledge that he was destroying enemies of
true Decepticon orthodoxy, the fact driving him ever onward.
And finally, after what almost seemed like an eternity rather than a mere instant, the drone fell before him, its frame battered and broken. Tarn stood tall amidst the wreckage, his own armour scorched and dented, but his victory made clear nonetheless.
With a satisfied grunt, the mech turned his attention to the rest of the battlefield, ready to join Nickel and Kaon and help them finish their own fights.
That's when three more of the damned drones sprinted their way through the doorway and leapt at him.
---
[SECONDARY TARGETS: DISABLED.]
I nodded slowly, watching a battered Kaon and a
violently swearing Nickel get effectively bullied into a corner.
"All available units, move to restrain primary target."
[CONFIRMED.]
