*Knock* *Knock*

Dead End sighed as he heard the familiar sound of Wildrider's fast-paced knocks against his door, signifying his interest to intrude upon his space again. It was his morning ritual at this point to get ready for his gestaltmate's intrusion. The only thing that changes is how early he was to check up on him. Today was noticeable as it was the latest he ever came to his room, almost a full hour past the usual time. That was quite an oddity to the cynical mech, but he squash that little thought in his mind as it meant an additional hour of peace. That's more then he could hope for in this hellhole.

He got up off the berth and went over to the door to open it, ready for the verbal assault from Wildrider that was bound to occur. "Deady! Sorry I'm late. Was just a bit busy this morning," Wildrider explained to him vaguely as he marched on inside, not bothering to have Dead End say whether he's allowed to come in or not. Typical.

"I thought my rest was too peaceful for a reason," Dead End sighed as he closed the door shut again before addressing Wildrider. "So, is there anything you wish to talk to me about or are you just here to fail to entertain me?"

"I'm here for you of course, Deady! You're still needing a hand, don't you?" Wildrider insisted to him with a chuckle and Dead End just sighed in displeasure at him.

"Failing to entertain me, I see," he remarked as he took a seat at one of the available chairs inside of his room before grabbing his datapad and started to read more poems.

"Hmph! You just can't appreciate good comedy," Wildrider remarked to him as he put his hands on his hips at him.

"Well, rather then continuing your routine as the failed comedian, why don't you tell me about what you were doing this morning? Would make my imagination tingle a bit," Dead End remarked to him with a scoff. "You didn't just sleep in, did you?"

"Oh, of course not! If you're so bothered about it, I was just chatting up with someone. Nothing wrong with that," he remarked to him with a huff.

"For an hour?" his gestaltmate remarked back to him, his interest piqued.

"What? You read to yourself your poetry for hours at a time. I can even remember some of those word-for-word," Wildrider remarked to him with a huff.

"While it's pleasing to know you have some refinement in you, I won't be so easily fooled by you dodging the question," the poet remarked back to him with a scowl and Wildrider put his hands on his hips at him. "The fact you're so interested makes me want to keep quiet about it even more! You're just so cute when you're frustrated." Dead End was looking crossed now as he kept his optics trained on him.

"Listen here, Mr. Violinist-" Wildrider flinched, "there's nothing I despised more than someone keeping secrets from me and you're doing that right now. Again. Now shut up and tell me the truth." Dead End had to the heart of the matter now and wasn't interested in any more lies from his gestaltmate.

"Well then, I won't," Wildrider said to him with a huff and sticking his glossa out at him.

"Still as immature as always…" Dead End remarked with a huff as he ignored him and went back to reading his poem, which Wildrider didn't mind at the current moment, with how determined Dead End was to pry into his private life. Dead End already knew one big secret, he was not about to learn another!

It was close to noon as Knock Out went to the dorms as well and walked on over to Rewind's door, still closed and locked. The doctor figured that Rewind hadn't even left his room this morning and was just holed up inside of it. After knocking on the door, his suspicions were proven true as Rewind carefully opened the door to see who it was. "Knock Out?"

"Hello, Rewind. Hound is probably staying at the med-bay for another day, so he asked me to come over and checked up on you," Knock Out explained his presence as he leaned down at the shorter mech. "Mind if I come in to talk to you?" Rewind tilted his head at him for the request before opening the door a bit more to let the Decepticon inside of the room.

"I guess you can," the archivist accepted his request as he stepped aside for him. Knock Out stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him before following Rewind to a table in the room to sit in, sitting across from each other. "How's Hound?" Rewind started the talk with the obvious concern for him.

"He's fine, but he did something stupid this morning that meant he will probably be staying an extra night," Knock Out informed him with a pained sigh. "He overreacted this morning to some information and injured himself some more."

"He did? That's… unlike him," Rewind remarked with a sigh, "but he has shown before that he has a bit of a temper."

"He does, surprisingly so… one would think someone of his title wouldn't act in such a way, but he does have a heated side to him," the doctor agreed with him with a nod. "But, he does care about you, which is why I'm here. Since I won't let him leave, he asked that I come see you myself. Don't exactly got much to do right now aside from making sure nothing bad happens to my patients, so I decided to spend some of my spare time with you." The small Autobot glared at him for the explanation before just giving a sigh to that.

"Fine, fine, I guess that's a suitable explanation for that," Rewind agreed with a belabored sigh. "Just… glad to hear he's still alright."

"Don't worry. The injuries he did to himself were debilitating, not fatal," Knock Out reassured him with a smile before speaking again in a gentle tone. "Just one more day and he'll be sleeping here with you anytime you want. I know it's lonely for you without Chromedome here."

A flinch from Rewind. That was the last reaction Knock Out expected from Rewind. He did not say it in any harsh tones, only in a soft and tender tone to keep him calm. To further throw him off, the doctor could see the archivist fidgeting with their hands in apprehension. He knew that he hit on something sensitive, but he had no idea what it was that would make him react in such a way.

"It… is l-lonely here," Rewind said to him, trying his best to keep himself calm. "I don't t-talk to a lot of people here. Just Hound a-and…" He went quiet again, but Knock Out figured he was talking about him used to talking to Chromedome, as to be expected from a grieving widower. Still, Knock Out could not help but feel that something was off with Rewind.

"Rewind… listen, I don't know what's wrong with you, but you can tell me. If you can't tell me, then there's always Hound to talk to talk to about it," Knock Out suggested to him, doing his best to give Rewind helpful ideas to help him. "I just don't think you should be keeping these secrets to yourself. It's not helpful to keep that to yourself."

"Don't give me that. You sound like Rung when me and Chromedome had… couple's counseling," he said timidly.

"You two were in couple's counseling?" the Decepticon inquired to him, not knowing this information. "I thought you two got along?"

"W-we did! But we had… some problems. Not enough to truly keep us apart, but we had these… arguments between each other," the archivist admitted to him.

"About what?"

"About… my old friend, Dominus Ambus," Rewind confessed to him.

"Well, that's a name I've heard of, but never met," Knock Out remarked to him with a hum. "Big-time mover on the pre-war scene. Notable advocate for the rights of the lower class individuals."

"Among many other things," the Autobot stated in a wistful tone. "I worked for him by maintaining the data of his research whenever we went out exploring the universe. We… we grew very close."

"How close?"

"As close as… me and Chromedome were," Rewind admitted, which floored Knock Out that this small, diminutive archivist was in a relationship with Dominus Ambus, of all mechs. The two were total opposite of the social caste before the war.

"My, that is… scandalous," he remarked with a cheerful grin and that playful side of Knock Out was coming back. "I'm impressed that you managed to get a mech of such social caliber… but you're not with him now. You… were with Chromedome."

"And that was where the problems between the two of us start," Rewind said with a belabored sigh. "I still have feelings for Ambus that won't stop, even when he disappeared."

"And somedays, Chromedome felt like he was the third wheel of the relationship, right?" Knock Out asked him carefully and he could see Rewind sag his shoulders at that.

"Yeah… he didn't feel like I was fully committed to us and worried what would happen if Dominus ever showed up again," the archivist explained to him. "I always told him that nothing would come between us, but he had his doubts, especially since he was always one for staying home."

"If Dominus came back, you wouldn't hesitate to explore the universe again and Chromedome feared he be left behind, huh?" the one-optic mech stated to him with a hum. "He feared losing you to someone better."

"Ambus isn't better, he's different," Rewind corrected him.

"But that didn't stop Chromedome from having that thought, right?" Knock Out remarked, a finger to his chin in thought. "I mean, comparing Chromedome to Dominus, it's not hard to figure out that he would think that he's… inadequate compared to your missing friend."

"Yes, well… Dominus was pretty amazing," the Autobot remarked with a chuckle. "But… I wouldn't have ever… betray him. We… were close."

"Yes, well… at least you don't have to worry about potential infidelity now if you find Ambus," Knock Out remarked with a chuckle. Although remarked earned himself a very sharp glare from Rewind and he realized his joke wasn't in good taste. "Okay, look-"

"Get out."

*SLAM*

Knock Out stood outside of Rewind's door now, the palm of his hand against his face at how stupid he was to say such a thing in front of him. No matter what he did, he always said the wrong thing, time and time again. He was honestly lucky no one decided to silence that sharp glossa of his with a knife yet. Or a scalpel. That was the best for precision cutting and Knock Out knew how to use them well. Maybe he should cut it out himself.

"Knock Out?" a voice said and he turned to see Mixmaster coming from the staircase, carrying a load of energon cubes with him.

"Ah, Mixmaster. Haven't seen you all day. How you doing?" Knock Out questioned him as he eyed the cubes in his hand.

"Oh, fine. I stayed in Scavenger's room last night. Nightmares," Mixmaster explained to him.

"Not the first time that's happened, I take it?" the medic remarked with a chuckle.

"Oh, you have no idea," Mixmaster confirmed to him with an annoyed sigh. "He's easily terrified. You can imagine how many nightmares he's had recharging in this place. He wasn't meant for war and he isn't meant for this killing game." The chuckle from Knock Out died quickly hearing that and he could tell that Mixmaster was very serious about the mental health of the youngest mech around. He knew Scavenger was a vulnerable mech due to his youth. Next to Bumblebee, he was the youngest mech around.

"Well then, mind if I come in to make sure he's okay? I may be able to help," Knock Out offered to him. 'If I screwed up with Rewind today, I'm sure not going to fragged up with Scavenger.' Mixmaster looked at him, obviously eyeing him over to make sure he was honest in his intention, before sighing.

"Yes, you may. I suppose you need to get to understand Scavenger better if you're going to teach him how to be a doctor and all that," Mixmaster agreed with letting him in before gesturing to Scavenger's door behind him. "Knock on it for me and I'll share some of this energon with you."

"No problem," Knock Out agreed as he headed on over to the door and knocked on it for him. It didn't take long before the door opened for them and Scavenger poked his head out.

"Mixmaster, why's Knock Out here?" the young Decepticon asked his gestaltmate.

"Just ran into him," Mixmaster said to him. "You can let him in. He just wants to talk to us for a little bit." The chemist made his way inside, forcing the tailed-mech to step aside and Knock Out followed right after him, getting a look inside Scavenger's room. True to his name, Scavenger had a bunch of useless stuff inside the room that he just collected for some reason. Mixmaster carried the cubes over to the table in the room that had a few trinkets on it and placing them on it. The three took their seats after that, the Constructicons right next to each other and the doctor across from them.

"So, Scavenger, how are you?" Knock Out asked him as he moved aside some of the items on the table aside to create more elbow room.

"Uh, well, I'm doing fine. If I'm not fine, Mix is there for me," Scavenger explained to him succinctly with a look to his gestaltmate.

"I always will be, Scav. I always will," Mixmaster assured him with a loving pat on the head that Knock Out couldn't help but find endearing. "I'll protect you as best I can."

"My, you two certainly seem to be very affectionate of each other," the doctor couldn't help but remark on the two of them.

"Well, I can't help but dote on him like a loving creator. Me and Scrapper are both very affectionate over Scavenger," the chemist confirmed to him as Scavenger was quick to start drinking his cube of energon.

"Scrapper us good to me," Scavenger said with a gulp. "Him and Hook get in a lot of arguments though."

"Yes, yes, I've bored witness to several of those arguments before," Knock Out remarked with a huff. "As well as bore witness to how pretentious Hook is and how stubborn Scrapper is. The two of them get along so well," he remarked with sarcasm dripping out of him.

"Oh, you have no idea," Mixmaster remarked with a huff. "It's certainly volatile between the two of them, but they wouldn't have worked together for millions of years if they weren't able to get along in some capacity."

"Forged in the battlefield, right?" Knock Out remarked to them with a hum.

"Created before the war and strengthen from it," he confirmed it with Scavenger nodding to agree with him. "The six of us have a lot of disagreements between each other, but we're a tight-knit group."

"Obviously," Knock Out agreed with a nod. "Hardly a group closer then you six. I might say the Combaticons was the closest, but…" He gave a shrug to them and Mixmaster nodded to acknowledge what he was saying. "Anyway, yeah, I agree with you. Your group is certainly the closest gestalt around."

"We thank you for the compliment," Mixmaster said with a smile before taking his first drink and Scavenger finished his cube up.

"You have someone too, right?" Scavenger asked Knock Out in an interested matter. "Someone you care for?"

"Yes… I do," Knock Out confirmed with a small smile on his face. "Break Down. A big mech. A dependable mech. Nobody uses a buffer quite like him." Mixmaster snickered at that.

"I'm sure nobody else does," he remarked with a smirk back to him. "Your finish is always impeccable."

"I thank you for the compliment," he said with a smile. "Perfect for aesthetics and sterilization in the med-bay. Can't afford bringing technopathogens into my area of work."

"That is perfectly true. Scavenger can learn a thing or two about such stuff from you," Mixmaster remarked with a pat to his gestaltmate's back.

"Oh, y-yeah!" Scavenger nodded to him, a bright look coming from his optics. "I need to learn from you, Knock Out. You're very smart, aren't you?"

"Oh, very smart," he assured the young mech with a smile. "I may not be as good as Ratchet was, but I know enough to teach you how to be a good doctor and surgeon, so long as you learnt enough from Hook. All that experience with him should form a good foundation to be an effective surgeon."

"Oh, yeah! I did a lot of things with Hook. Whatever he says, I do," Scavenger tells him happily.

"Well, first thing I'm going to do is to teach you how to figure out what to do yourself," the doctor informed him. "Following orders is one thing. Deciding for yourself the best course of action is another thing entirely." At that, Scavenger's shoulders slumped at that as he fidgeted with his fingers.

"B-b-but… Hook said to always listen to him above all else. It's hard to do something without him," the young Decepticon admitted with a pained sigh to him and Knock Out could see he was glaring back at him.

'I did remember hearing Hook is involved in some… abusive behavior with Scavenger. Obviously, it's something they don't like to talk about,' Knock Out thought with a hum before he continued speaking in order to defuse the situation. "Hey, hey, sorry, but it's the truth. If you want to be a doctor, you got to learn how to take care of yourself and take the lead. A doctor dictates to others what to do. Remember that." With the facts laid out, Knock Out grabbed a cube and lean back in his chair to look at them. "Now, do we understand?" The Constructicons looked at each other and Knock Out could almost hear the silent conversation between the two of them about this. He almost wished he could hear it.

Soon enough, the two turned back to him and Scavenger spoke up. "I… I will try my best to step up a be a leader," he hesitated to say to Knock Out.

"Well, good. It's time for you to call the shots," Knock Out encouraged him with a smile as he leaned on the table again with his arms. "I know you taking charge is going to be very difficult, but I think it'll be a good thing."

"I think it will be too," Mixmaster agreed, although the posture he had showed that he was not as confident in that statement as Knock Out.

"Oh, trust me, I'll make sure he is." Good thing Knock Out had more then enough enough confidence for the two of them.

"Are you really not Monobear's mole?" Blurr asked Perceptor as Bumblebee was recharging on the slab.

"For the hundredth time, no, I am not the mole working with Monobear," Perceptor insisted to him, sounding very annoyed. "The mole is dead. I don't know which one of them was the mole, but I know that they're not a problem for us anymore."

"Then why can't you tell your secret to us?" he continued to press him, trying his hardest to get to the truth of all this. He was not a very good interrogator.

"Because… because I know nothing will ever be the same between me and everyone left alive," the scientist told him guiltily. "I… I did some bad things, okay? Things that I'm not proud of, I'll admit. But I just want to live as Perceptor… as myself," he insisted as he tilted his head down, ashamed. "I've done my best for all you. Most missions I've been involved in ended in high casualties for us, but I also endured it and kept doing my best to get the Autobots to win."

"I know… but it's just hard to believe without that datapad," the racer reminded him. "Without we, we can only take you on your word that you're not the mole."

"Whereas everyone else has the datapad to show that they're not the mole," Perceptor remarked with a sigh as he did his best to think about it to look for a way to secure his innocent.

"Even you know it looks bad for you," Blurr remarked with a scoff as he leaned back in his chair. "I don't see how you can't confess to it."

"I would wonder the same about you if positions were reversed, I'll admit," he agreed with a sigh. "It seems impossible that I am not a mole, but it's the truth, as hard as it is to believe."

"Ugh… I feel like we're talking in circles," Blurr complained with a huff to him. "I want to trust you. You seem to be sincere about this whole thing… but I just can't wrap my head around it all."

"You and me both," Perceptor agreed with him with a sigh as he tapped on the table with his fingers and gritted his teeth. It was not often that he was stumped on by a problem, but it was clear that he was confused by where all the information was leading him as well. "I usually like solving problems, but I really hate this."

"Yeah… no shit," Blurr muttered. "I just want to find out the truth of all this."

"That's the same for me as well," the scientist agreed with him, sounding very annoyed. The two were silent after that, the awkwardness of it all filling up the air, silently thinking to himself.

"…Want to know my secret?" Blurr asked Perceptor as he stood there, looking at him and the scientist was noticeably caught off guard. "That terrible part of myself that no one else knows?"

"Blurr… why"-

"Because it might not even matter soon if everyone here knows it," Blurr informed him with a sigh. "It's possible that we all might just die here. I rather let some people know." Perceptor looked at him, shocked by how sudden his bout of honesty was, before frowning at him.

"Don't."

"Huh?"

"Does it look like I deserve learning to know your darkest secret?" Perceptor asked him pointedly, glaring at him as if prepared to give him a lecture. "I refused several time now about telling you my secret, and yet, you just want to open up about it? It's all give and no take, and that's not how anything works." He leaned in at him to make sure he was serious about this. "Don't just go about blabbing every single one of your secrets to whomever you like without guilt. That just makes you prime for exploitation, you fool. Secrets are the key to interpersonal relationships and social capital. Keep them close to the chest, Blurr." With his warning finished, in relaxed in his chair again, still scowling but thinking as well.

"Didn't think you would be so serious about such stuff, Perceptor. You're weren't known as a social sort," he remarked to the scientist with a interested hum.

"Behavioral science exists, Blurr. Just because it isn't hard science doesn't mean that it isn't valuable science. You just got to take it with a grain of doubt," Perceptor informed him. "My respect for the soft sciences is significantly lesser then the hard sciences, but there's still value in them." Blurr just rolled his optics at him before relaxing in the chair again.

"So you say, Perceptor, but you're still weird," Blurr remarked.

"Maybe so, but I'm not a mole and I'm not wrong."

"Why is it you want to talk to me privately?" Onslaught asked Beachcomber as they talked inside of the bathroom of Jazz's room, leaving the other three in there to sift through the datapads.

"Look, look, look, I'm unsure if I need to talk to anyone about this, but if I am, I think it should be you, considering how close we've gotten," Beachcomber admitted to him.

"Oh, of course, of course," Onslaught nodded to him as he took a seat to get comfortable. "What is it that you need to tell me."

"It's… it's about my memory," Beachcomber confessed to him with a beleaguered sigh.

"You remember everything?!" the combaticon said excitedly as he leaned in.

"No, no, no. If I do, I would tell everyone immediately. This is just some memory I forgot because of… the PTSD, you know," the geologist confessed to him and the tactician's shoulders sagged at the mention of his disorder.

"Oh… okay. Remember something new?" he asked the smaller mech as he relaxed again.

"Well, the picture isn't complete, but I did remember some new stuff… although it's not something you'll like to hear," Beachcomber confessed to him with a sigh.

"I doubt it. It can't be-"

"I remember Vortex in it." Onslaught fell silent quickly at that as he just looked at him, silently urging him to continue. "I… I always thought it was just Shockwave involved in my torture. It's hard to forget his appearance, but I realize now that Vortex was there as well assisting him. He wasn't as present as Shockwave, but he was there sometimes as well. He even mocked me a few times as well… it's not surprising that I wished to forget that as well." He clinged to himself tightly as he finished explaining it to Onslaught, who was emotionally compromised by this.

"Beachcomber… I'm sorry to hear that Vortex did that to you," Onslaught apologized to him, sounding very meek, which was unlike him. "Vortex was involved in many interrogations and tortures, as well as helped run the various black sites we used during the war. He was never the nicest mech, even if he's one of my own."

"Did you over stop him?" Beachcomber asked him, looking betrayed.

"I… I only did when I find that the targets of his enhanced interrogation technique were unlikely to hold any valuable information. Which rarely happened. Vortex knew how to pick targets out for interrogation," the Combaticon explained to him guiltily. "I'm guessing he asked you a lot of questions?"

"Y-yeah, but… the information he wanted wasn't information on the Autobots, it was just about me," Beachcomber explained to him.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Onslaught asked him, confused.

"Well… he wanted to know where and when I was created, where I went to study at, what were all of my classes, who were all of my friends… anything about me, he wanted to know," Beachcomber explained to him. "I'm not quite sure why him or Shockwave wanted to know so much about me, but… I just got used to it at some point. Talking was easier then the pain the two of them could inflict on me." The minibot curled up more into himself as he continued on. "If… if I didn't talk, the shock me, c-cut me, b-b-burn me, h-h-hit me, and so mu-Bzzrt-uch more…" Static was lacing his voice now as coolant was already coming out of his optics now and onto his chest.

Onslaught stared at him, wondering what exactly he should do, running through it in his mind as quickly and efficiently as possible, but he was not trained for this. No tactics could help him calm a crying mech, so he just went by instinct. He moved in and wrapped the minicon up in his arms to hug him, surprising the bawling mech. The hold Onslaught had on him was tight as he pressed the smaller mech's head against his chest to keep him from crying on himself, willing let him cry on his own chest. Beachcomber didn't say anything about it as the two just kept this up for several minutes before his tears dried up and he finally tried to pull back from him, which Onslaught agreed to as he loosen his grip, but still kept a hold on him.

"Beachcomber… I'm truly sorry over all that Vortex did to you. I… I can't take back what he did to you, but I can try to make amends. To help you heal however I can," Onslaught whispered to him, patting him on the back. "I will not let any more harm come to you, here and from now on. You've suffered enough in this war." The geologist gulped at his words, but he just nodded to him.

"T-t-thanks, I… I appreciate," Beachcomber said with a little nod to him. "It… makes me feel good that you say that. I think… I think a part of me should trust you, but I feel like trusting you is the only thing I can do. You seem… honest."

"I am honest, Beachcomber," Onslaught assured him, "and I swear, we'll both get out of here alive. Nothing will stop me from getting you and everyone else out. I promise you that much."

"So long as you don't die for me, I can handle it," Beachcomber assured him with a nod.

"Well, fine, I won't die to save you. Promise. But I will risk bodily harm to save you from danger. You can count on that," he asserted to him confidently and Beachcomber could only sigh at that.

"Fine… fine, I guess you can do that," he agreed, knowing Onslaught was not the type to willingly leave anyone behind. He would always do his best to save his allies.

"Good, good. Now, you got anything else to tell me before we get back to work?" Onslaught asked him.

"Well, if you must know… eventually Vortex just stopped asking questions," Beachcomber confessed to him. "He just said to me that… I was lucky. They got someone else."

"Found some else?" Onslaught repeated, confused at the ominous remark.

"Yeah, I don't know how I was lucky, but he did seemed honest about it, or as honest as a psycho can get," the Autobot told him. "I'm not sure what they meant, but I think it meant that whatever they planned for me, they put on hold. I don't know what it was, but I'm just glad they didn't carry out their complete plan on me. Feel bad for who got it though."

"It does disturb me that Vortex and Shockwave were working together on a secret plan. A shame we can't question them about it anymore," Onslaught remarked with a sigh. "I'm sure if I had a minute with Vortex, he would tell me the truth quickly. He couldn't hide the truth from me for long if I knew he was hiding it from me."

"Yeah, well, whatever it was, him and Shockwave took their secrets with them to the well."

Drift vented in and out very slowly as he faced an holographic entity, one that was similar in size and shape to him, but done up in the same Monobear white and black. Both fighters were gripping their blades with both hands on the handle of their respective blades. The two were waiting for their respective opponent to make a move. Drift had set it up so that the fighter would be defensive, so he knew that the one who had to initiate it would be him. He was just planning how he would start it out.

In a split second, Drift made his decision and sprinted in to do an overhead slash on the hologram, which was easily dodged. However, the hologram didn't see the kick from Drift coming, hitting them in their side and knocking them off balance. He took advantage of this with another slash aimed at the back, which hit the hologram, but it was a shallow blow, sending digital to the ground. The hologram responded back by slashing back, but Drift managed to duck in time and thrusted with his sword right through the center of their chest, 'killing' the hologram as the form dissipated into nothingness.

"Not bad," a deep voice said and Drift turned to see Bludgeon had entered the combat room, watching him perform while sitting down with his hands on his knees and his hands on his knees.

"Bludgeon… that was my 113th win today. No losses," Drift informed him as a jumped down from the platform to face him. "I think I'm capable of going head-to-head with you now."

"You're not. Still making mistakes," Bludgeon informed him bluntly, making Drift scoffed at him. "But you are improving, which only means good news for you."

"Right, of course you think that. You know, there's no shame in a 'Con like you admitting I'm better," Drift taunted him, sounding more annoyed by him.

"Huh. Your arrogance is noted, but I won't fight you again until I believe you are at full power," Bludgeon informed him.

"Oh, sure you will. You're totally not scared," the swordsmech remarked in a mock tone. "Why aren't you with Nautilator right now?"

"He's reading his datapads right now. Knock Out returned with Scavenger in tow and he's giving him lessons on being a doctor right now, so I decided I should come fine you. Didn't take long to figure out where you might be, as I figured you would be here to regain your combat capabilities," the metallikato master explained to him.

"Huh, didn't think you would care about me so much," Drift remarked with a sneer as he got up close to him before putting his sword in his scabbard and taking a seat as well across from him.

"Someone has to after the passing of Ratchet," Bludgeon reminded him and the Autobot winced at that. "I know you're very emotional after what happened with the last trail. I think I need to check up on you to make sure you're not breaking down."

"I'm not," Drift insisted to him with a growl.

"Yes, you are," he spoke out against him. "Everyone can see it, but they're worry about their own problems instead of you. Admittingly, so was I, but I needed to tend to Nautilator while he was in his coma."

"And now that your little coma patient is awake, you think you can come talk to me and everything will be fine? That I won't be mad anymore about the grave injustice that fell upon Ratchet," the swordsmech asked him angrily.

"Of course not. Don't be so foolish," Bludgeon hissed back at him. "I think getting revenge against them when this is all over is an acceptable course of action, as much as the rest will disagree with me. But I always insist that you wait until we are done taking care of this bear and his controller, as they are the architects of our suffering here. We will need to find and take care of them first."

"They are the ones responsible for us being here…" Drift agreed with him with a nod. "Finding the way that would get us within striking distance of them is important."

"Correct, which is why I implore you to focus on that," Bludgeon ordered him. "Don't stop until you have the headmaster in your sights and slay them."

"I assume you have that same goal?" Drift asked him, leaning in.

"Of course. I won't leave here without Nautilator with me," he informed him grimly, gripping himself tightly. "We have a bond and I won't stop until I get him out of here alive." He glared at Drift with his last comment. "If I were you, I would do the same."

"I agree with you, but I care about these people less and less with each day," Drift admitted to him. "I mean… the only one who really gets me is Hound and Hoist."

Bludgeon sighed at that, as he instantly knew why he liked them. "The only reason you care for them is because they're both Autobots and they didn't vote for Ratchet. Such a selfish way of thinking of things."

"Hey, they were right! Ratchet was not the killer! It was-"

"Your opinion is irrelevant on this, drift. If we didn't vote for Ratchet, all of us, including you, would be dead," Bludgeon reminded him.

"I know," Drift growled to him. "I know, I know, I know. I know it, but they shouldn't have vote for him. They should've… they should've…"

"We did the right thing," Bludgeon informed him bluntly. "I know you find that hard to believe, but even Ratchet himself told us to vote for him. We were left with no choice but to do as he said. All of our chances to prevent us from having to vote for him passed when Blast Off died from the injection. There was nothing we could do from that point on. I'm sorry, but-"

"I'm leaving," Drift growled as he stood up and stomped out. "It's getting late. You should sleep as well."

"Drift, wait," Bludgeon order as he stood up as well.

"Just leave me alone, you freak," Drift yelled at him as he headed for the exit.

"Wait!" Bludgeon yelled as he stood up and followed after him, quick to close the difference between the two of them. However, just as he got within arms' reach, Drift pulled two of his sword out and swung it towards him. Most people would've duck or not had the ability to do so, but Bludgeon saw it coming and didn't attempt to move out of the way. The swords stopped just before it reached his neck, lightly pressing against the metallikato master's neck. The two looked at each other in the optics for a few seconds before Bludgeon grabbed a hold of the blades and pulled them from him. "Are you done being immature, Drift, or you wish to continue wasting your potential?" Drift narrow his optics at him even more, gripping his swords tighter, tempted to cleave right into his neck and decapitate him, before pulling back, holstering his weapons.

"Why I don't need your approval of my skills to validate myself," Drift told him as he turned around and started walking. "I'll continue to improve on my own."

"There will always be a cap for it if you keep this attitude up," his elder warned him, taking a step towards. "I've been training and fighting long before you were created and know what it takes. I was like you once, young and arrogant of my own capabilities, but I improved myself and my attitude. You could be like me and-"

"I don't want to be like you," Drift told him, turning his head around to look at him. "Loyal and stupid enough to follow a mad scientist's every owner and slaughtering countless innocents to fulfill his every desire. You may be better then me now, but at least I learned to stop following the orders of a mad mech. You never did." Bludgeon froze at that as the Autobot looked away and walked forward again as he left him behind to wonder in his thoughts.

"This is an announcement. It is now 10PM. Please rest peacefully."

"Ready to turn in for the night, aren't you?" Smokescreen asked Hoist as they were walking through the dorms to their rooms, the lights of the building turning off or dimming to reflect the change in time.

"It's dangerous being out at night," the more moral Autobot informed him. "I wouldn't stay out at night if I don't want to get involve in a murder."

"Unless you want to commit a murder or attempt to prevent one," Smokescreen remarked to him with a grin.

"You thinking about staying out?" Hoist questioned him.

"Oh, hell no," the gambler laughed at him. "I got enough people wanting to kill me. It would be stupid of me to stay out at night right now. If I want to survive, I have to stay in my room."

"Well… we can both agree on that," the green mech sighed at him. "Guess… we just have to hope no more murders happen during the night."

"Well, we'll just have to see about that," Smokescreen remarked to him with a huff. "I'll catch you later, Hoist."

"Much as I don't want to, I don't want to convict someone of murdering you," Hoist agreed with him. "Can't have that happening."

"That's for sure. Catch you tomorrow."