CHAPTER SEVEN
Crosshairs awoke to the sound of clinking. His optical sensors flickered on and he found himself in a dimly-lit chamber, clamped down onto a table. He craned his head and found his comrades- Kup, Seaspray, and the others- in a similar position, albeit still unconscious.
When he heard the clinking noise again, he looked up to see a cage hanging overhead, containing six diminutive Cybertronians- Mini-Cons, he realized. The noise was being created by one of them as they hit the bars of the cell with a large gun attached to their arms.
"Would you knock it off, Haywire?" one of the other Mini-Cons snapped. "You're giving me a headache."
The one called Haywire merely rolled his eyes, but ceased his activity. However, as he cast his gaze down, he noticed that Crosshairs was back online and nudged the Mini-Con who had snapped at him.
"Look, Recoil. One of them's awake."
Recoil snorted. "So? Just means he's gonna witness the pain he's gonna endure."
"Who are you guys?" Crosshairs asked. "I mean, I know you're Mini-Cons, right? But what are you doing here?"
Recoil glared at him. "We're prisoners, just like you. Now quiet down unless you want to die sooner."
"What are you talking about? I'm in the dark here... figuratively and literally."
"Just tell him, Recoil," said a third, orange-colored Mini-Con. "What harm will it do?"
Recoil scowled at him before sighing. Turning to Crosshairs, he said, "You're a prisoner of the 'Cons here on Styx. Unless they've suddenly changed the way they do things around here, you're most likely going to be experimented on."
"Experimented on?" Crosshairs exclaimed. "What kind of experiments?"
Recoil shrugged. "Got me there. You could get turned into a bug or get combined with a Vehicon. Either way, it ain't pretty and you're not gonna like it."
Crosshairs grimaced. "There's an understatement right there. Any idea on how to escape?"
Recoil shook his head. "We've been hanging here for days- nearly a full deca-cycle. If there was a way to escape, we would have figured it out by now."
"Well," a black and gray Mini-Con said, "we could-"
"Not this again, Firebolt," groaned a black and red one. "It's not gonna work and you know it."
"It's all we've got, Spoilsport!" Firebolt said. "If it fails, we could at least say we tried!"
"Not unless we're dead by then," muttered a winged red one.
Crosshairs stared at the six Mini-Cons bemusedly. "What are you guys talking about?"
"Nothing," Recoil grunted. "It's a stupid plan. It won't work."
"I'm all ears, either way."
Before the others could stop him, Firebolt said, "The Decepticons modified us so we could convert into weapons. My idea was for us to use our weapon forms to blast open our cage and then make our getaway."
"But that wouldn't work because the 'Cons could easily find us and crush us with their heels," Spoilsport said. "Besides, we have no one to wield us and..."
He paused as realization visibly dawned on him, as well as the others. Crosshairs smirked at them.
"Don't worry. It takes a while for a wonderful plan to come together."
* * *
Thunderwing stood in the command center, his back turned to the rest of the Mayhem Squad, as well as the science crew of Airachnid, Scalpel, and Rossum. They patiently waited for him to speak, knowing that disturbing the silence would incur his wrath.
Finally, the general spoke. "Dominus Ambus once said that a Cybertronian can only do so much before doing too much, meaning that we need not push ourselves to the next stage of evolution just because we can. I say to him, 'why not?'
"What's stopping us from reaching our peak? What's stopping us from becoming more than just machines and become the ultimate power in the universe? Who... who is there to direct our will?"
There was a silence, which was easily broken when Lugnut said, "Lord Megatron."
The other Decepticons tensed. Thunderwing's ire radiated from him like a newborn star's energies. He slowly turned, his gold face contorted with anger.
"Megatron?" he spat. "That glorified Autobot traitor who named himself after one of the Thirteen? Don't make me laugh. How do we know he is not part of some elaborate Autobot ploy to destroy us from within?"
Lugnut opened his mouth to retort but Treadshot cut him off. "Well, he did kill Sentinel Prime. And Zeta. And nearly destroyed Iacon."
The general scoffed. "A convincing act, but an act nonetheless. He may have been Trannis' protege, but an Autobot who nearly became a Prime can never truly call himself a Decepticon."
Lugnut bristled and was about ready to snap at Thunderwing when a Vehicon trooper suddenly stormed into the room.
"Sir! There's been a security breach in Sector Z-27!"
Thunderwing whirled to face him. "The lab? Dispatch all Vehicons to that sector!"
The trooper saluted before running out. Thunderwing then turned to the six members of the Mayhem Squad.
"Ensure that they succeed in detaining this breach."
The six Decepticons nodded in unison and turned to leave. However, before they could do so, Thunderwing reached out and placed a hand on Bombshock's shoulder.
"Nightracer, you're in charge of the squad," the general said. "I have a separate test for Bombshock here."
Once the others had left, Bombshock gave Thunderwing a bewildered look. "What is this task, sir?"
The general grinned, an expression the Combaticon had come to dread. "Perhaps Rossum here can explain...."
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