CHAPTER FIVE
Despite being his trusted right-hand man, Ultra Magnus rarely spoke with Sentinel Prime. Because of their jobs constantly demanding their attention, they almost never had the opportunity to sit down and talk like the old friends they were. It usually took an emergency to get them to even see each others' face.
Such as now.
"Garrus One through Nine, Trypticon Prison, Grindcore." Ultra Magnus sighed as he and Sentinel Prime moved hastily down the halls of the Metroplex. "The list goes on."
"Deploy whatever Elite Guardsmen are available to Decepticon territory," Sentinel Prime said. "If they truly are behind this, then they must be stopped."
"And if they aren't? What if they take our presence as intimidation and start the war again?"
"They have not the means to do so," Sentinel replied. "And besides, why wouldn't it be them? The prisoners who escaped initially were all Decepticons."
"I suppose you're right," Ultra Magnus said quietly. "Very well then. I shall dispatch the Eight Track, the Valiant, and the Hyperion."
"And the Steelhaven."
Ultra Magnus suddenly stopped to stare enquiringly at the Prime. "The Steelhaven? The capital ship? My ship?"
"Know any others?" Sentinel Prime said dryly.
"Sir, the very presence of the capital Autobot ship would provoke a very negative reaction from the Decepticons, regardless if they're behind this or not."
Sentinel sighed as he placed a hand on Ultra Magnus' shoulder. "I am aware of your concerns, old friend. But if the Decepticons are truly thinking about starting another war, we must quash their attempts once and for all."
Ultra Magnus nodded solemnly. "I understand. It shall be done, Sentinel Prime, sir."
With a final salute, Ultra Magnus turned and converted into his truck mode, headed for the Metroplex's exit, all the while doing his best to ignore his nagging doubts.
* * *
"Well, this plan is proceeding lovely," Tumbler muttered, idly dangling his feet over the floor. "Lovelier than the Helix Gardens on a sunny day."
"Quiet," Prowl hissed. "I'm trying to observe my surroundings."
"What is there to observe? We're inside a dark, smelly dungeon, chained to the wall. The only things in here besides us and our fellow prisoners are some dead bodies and what smells like petro-rabbit droppings. There. You have your surroundings."
"Wow," Leadfoot said dryly. "If we ever get out of here alive, you should totally pursue a career as an author."
"Don't count on it," said one of the other prisoners, a female Autobot colored in red and orange. "No Autobot has gone into Darkmount and leave alive. Heck, even as a Decepticon you'd have to be pretty lucky."
"Rub it in, why don't you?" snapped a purple-colored male Decepticon on the wall opposite of her. More to himself, he muttered, "Primus, make one tiny mistake in repairing the Lord High Governor and you get sentence and replaced."
"You think you've got it bad?" asked a white, blue, and red male Autobot. "I was actually sent here on a recon mission by my superiors."
"Recon?" Wheeljack repeated. "What for?"
"Data," the Autobot said simply. To him, Prowl, Tumbler, and Leadfoot, he asked, "You guys?"
"I had a plan," Prowl replied, looking dejectedly to the floor. "It didn't work."
"Well, that's pretty obvious," the Decepticon medic said. With a sigh, he added, "Look, I know we're all gonna die pretty soon, but maybe we should get to know each others' names. I'll start: I'm Ambulon."
"I'm Tumbler," Tumbler said. "'Bot with the failed plan is Prowl. Yellow guy is Leadfoot. Guy with the flashing ears whenever he talks is Wheeljack."
"Flareup," said the female Autobot.
"Getaway," said the white and blue one, and with that he dropped to the floor, free from his chains.
The others stared at him incredulously. "How... how did you...?" Ambulon stammered.
"It's all in the name," Getaway replied. "Anyone got a jetpack?"
"Er, we four do," Tumbler said. "Maybe if you freed us, you could-"
"Actually, never mind that," Getaway said hastily. "I hear the guard coming. Just trust me, okay?"
With that, the Autobot escape artist blended into the shadows of the cell, no doubt using cloak technology of some sort. Not a moment later, the door opened and a teal-colored Decepticon walked in, carrying seven trays of nuts and bolts.
"Supper time!" the guard cackled. "You guys need more metal in your system so we can recycle it after we smelt ya'!"
He began attaching the trays to the wall near each prisoner. When he came to Getaway's spot, he froze when he saw that the Autobot was missing.
"Say, weren't there seven of ya'?"
"Yup."
The Decepticon suddenly began to spasm as Getaway emerged from the shadows and shoved an energon prod into the 'Con's neck. After a few more twitches, the guard collapsed to the floor, unconscious and immobile.
As Getaway started to free Tumbler and the others, Leadfoot said, "And just how the heck did you find an energon prod?"
"He had one folded up on his back," Getaway said, nodding to the paralyzed guard. "Remember, always make use of what's provided to you."
"Sound advice," Flareup said. "So how do we get out of here?"
"Same ways we got in," Prowl said. "Tumbler, Leadfoot, Wheeljack, and I have electronic paint jobs installed. We'll pose as Decepticons while you, Getaway, and Ambulon act as prisoners which we're transferring."
Getaway scratched the chin of his mouth-plate. "You know, for a guy whose initial plan failed, that idea doesn't sound half bad."
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Ambulon asked. "Let's get the Pit out of here!"
"Wait, hold it." Leadfoot eyed the Decepticon medic suspiciously. "We should we bring you along? You're a 'Con."
Ambulon frowned. "After what got me in this fix in the first place, I hate the Decepticons as much as you do. Please, trust me."
"We'll solve trust issues later," Prowl said. "Come on, let's get moving before the guard's friends notice his prolonged absence."
In no more than a minute, four false Decepticon guards were leaving the cell, with three equally-as-false prisoners in tow. As they headed down the corridor for the exit however, another Decepticon called after them.
"Hey! You guys are going the wrong way!"
Prowl turned to face him. "Pardon?"
"The prisoners are to be taken to Lord Straxus' throne room to be judged. Now come on! You know he hates to be kept waiting."
As the Decepticon left, Tumbler let out a sigh. "Who else here thinks that Primus is mad at us for some reason?"
"Wouldn't blame him," Getaway said. "We were at war for, like, two thousand years. He's bound to be ticked at us."
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