CHAPTER THREE
"What's your name, son?"
The black Seeker did not meet Depth Charge's gaze as he responded. "I've already told your minions. Ask them."
"I want to hear it from you," the silver and blue security chief said. "And they're not my minions."
The Seeker grunted. "My name is Skywarp."
"There, easy as energon pie. Now then, Skywarp, down to business. Am I correct in thinking that you murdered Decimus of the Autobot High Council?"
"Yes," Skywarp said bitterly.
"Did you do it under your own intentions, or for someone else?"
The Seeker hesitated briefly. "Someone else."
"Who?"
The winged mech finally raised his red optics to meet Depth Charge's blue ones. "I know not his real name," the former said. "He goes by the moniker 'Mastermind.'"
"I see." Depth Charge rubbed his chin. "Why did this 'Mastermind' want you to kill Decimus?"
"Want me to go all the way back to Kaon and ask him?"
Depth Charge grunted as he rose from his seat. "I guess that makes any further questions pointless."
The Seeker remained silent even as the chief closed the door behind him as he walked out.
* * *
Click.
Orion Pax cringed as he entered his quarters at Altihex Security HQ. Hanging on the wall, opposite of his recharge slab, was a giant television screen, placed right between his desk and his co-worker/roommate. Said roommate, of course, was the mech responsible for this unwanted addition to the room.
"Roller," Orion murmured. "I thought you weren't going to get the Blast-Trax 3000."
"I did," the large mech replied, changing the channel again. "This is the Blast-Trax 3500. Way better than the 3000 model."
"And bigger, too," Orion noted.
"Yeah, it's got, like, as many channels as its model number!"
Orion regarded the television set with disapproval. "Well, if it ends up causing a power shortage, the blame will be on your shoulders."
"Whatever," Roller muttered as he landed on the Autobot Broadcast Network, hosting the news program Around Cybertron. On the screen, a blue mech and a red femme sat together, with a separate inset screen on the side, showing the visages of the late High Council members Decimus and Momus.
"So, Cassiopeia," the male anchor said to his female counterpart. "How is the High Council coping with its two losses?"
"Well, Bishop," Cassiopeia replied, "Drivetrain of the Constructicons has been appointed to Councilor Momus' position on the council and as head of the Industrial Guild, while Councilor Ratbat has been given temporary control of Decimus' Commerce Guild. In the mean time, Ultra Magnus of the Elite Guard is doing everything under his power to tighten security."
Bishop nodded. "I see. Has Sentinel Prime made any statements?"
Before Cassiopeia could reply, Roller changed the channel again. "Boring," he droned.
"Hey, change it back!" Orion snatched the remote control from Roller's hands and return the screen to ABN.
"...as of now," Cassiopeia was saying. "However, if things like this continue to occur, I'm sure we can expect a statement then. But for the time being... there's nothing we can do."
"Fair enough," Bishop said. "Thank you, Cassiopeia. In other news, world-famous racer Blurr has won the Ibex Cup for the fifth-"
The anchor was cut off again as Roller had finally regained control over the remote.
"What's got your curiosity piqued all of a sudden?" he asked Orion.
Orion shrugged. "I was hoping that the Council would be doing more about this whole ordeal. Doesn't look like it, though."
Roller grunted. "Things like this happen all the time, Orion. If some one big-named dies, the media will pretty much be the only ones who'll care about it."
"I care," Orion murmured, more to himself than his partner.
"Yeah, but you're just one Cybertronian out of, what, a billion?"
Orion sighed. "Yeah, you're right." Wanting to change the subject, he gestured at the TV. "So, anything good on?"
"Freeway's back on the air. Wanna-?"
"Never mind. I'm going to recharge."
* * *
Next to the Vaults of Iacon, the Trypticon Prison facility was one of the most heavily guarded places on Cybertron. During the Great War, it had served as a Decepticon fortress. But now, in an ironic twist, it held Decepticons who had refused to put down their arms at the end of the war.
And it was just Barricade's luck to be stationed at the same cell block with the most unhinged Decepticon of all.
"At least you don't have to go into his cell to feed him," his co-officer Stopgap often said. "And guess what I have to do every day?"
There was a point in that, Barricade thought. His sole duty was to stand idly at the prisoner's cell door, accompanied by his comrade Payload. It still chilled him whenever the Decepticon began murmuring homicidal thoughts to himself.
Luckily, he would not have to endure it for much longer.
The ground shook. The faux earthquakes had been set off, just as expected. Such events were quite common in Kaon, so no unwanted attention would be attracted to it. He then felt another shake as, at the same time, he heard the walls in the prisoner's cell crumble.
Once he heard the sound of two vehicles driving away, Barricade smirked. Well done, Rumble.
* * *
"And for what reason do I owe my liberation?"
Driving alongside the green bulldozer, Rumble glanced at Bonecrusher with his headlights. "The boss needs you for the plan."
The volatile Constructicon snorted. "Don't tell me it's this Motormaster person I've been hearing about."
"Well, kinda," Rumble replied. "Though he's actually working for someone else. Someone called Mastermind."
"Hmph. Another petty mob boss, no doubt. What does he require of me?"
"Two things," Rumble said. "One, he needs you to rally your Constructicon brothers."
"A simple task," Bonecrusher growled. "And the second thing?"
"He wants you to help assassinate someone."
At the sound of this, the bulldozer screeched to a halt and converted into its bulky robot mode.
"Well then," Bonecrusher hissed. "I may be interested in your endeavor after all."
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