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[Chapter: Cell 8.]

[Location: Khalanxis, Aphos Wing, lab G-20.17.]
"It means 'to order destroyed'."
Cindermaw watched with curious delight how the little mech in front of him froze, then began to tremble. A proper amount of fear showed on its face. The Allicon snorted, blowing hot air from his engine compartment into the unit's face-plate.
"Ah. I-I understand, Guardian Unit Cindermaw Sir." Hextaida told him, voice timid.
With a nod and a grunt, the seasoned fighter rose from his crouch. "That will be all then, little mech."

[Location: Khalanxis, mid-level ventilation tunnels.]
Hidden behind the tower walls were tunnels that never saw the light of day. There were no visitors to these tunnels, save for the occasional Sharkticon worker sent in to clear out some clogged fans.

It was in one of these tunnels that a little mech was making its way down the length of it. Optical lights illuminated the otherwise dark path, and the thick darkness lingered just mere steps behind the robot's backside. If the tunnels had proper lighting, one could read the identification tag stamped into the backside: D-MSU-01. But here those letters were illegible and so its code as well as its codename, Lomdai, was lost in the void.
Not that Lomdai cared. It didn't care about anything.
Within one hand it held a scraper; in the other hand it clenched a bag for waste. Like a pair of flashlights, its vision cut through the darkness to illuminate the floor and walls. At times, something would flit through the beams of light but Lomdai just kept on walking without giving any reaction to the scurrying and screeching around it.

It would halt at times, though. At those moments, thick plaques of grime and junk and waste were stared at in utmost concentration.
"Detection." Lomdai announced at one such buildup of junk. It was high up on the wall. Lomdai's vision never left the location as it approached the wall and promptly walk up against it. A warm buzz came from the magnaclamps in the mech's boots as it did so. With due care, Lomdai carefully scraped loose the gunk and let it fall into the bag. It worked diligently, silently.
Lomdai did not sing.
It did not even hum as it worked.
It worked, and that was all.

Brzzzt!
A weird visual glitch shot across the unit's vision, distorting the view momentarily and deactivating the optical lights. Lomdai stopped working, staring out into the pitch black. But the glitch did not return. The lights did, thankfully.
After a few seconds of more staring, the small mech continued working before moving on to the next spot. It didn't even shrug off the anomaly: it just continued working.
With the plaque scraped off, Lomdai got up, walked back down to the floor and continued onwards. Darkness gradually returned to the tunnel as the mech disappeared down the far end.

"We've played enough!"
Lomdai slowly held its stride as the cry rang out. It tilted its head a bit, listening to see if it heard more.
The tunnels remained silent.
The main frame system sent out a ping which popped up on the mech's HUD. Lomdai answered with its location and status. The second response was one foot placed in front of the other, and the continuation of work. Lomdai marched diligently, stopping and scraping and cleaning.
It didn't seem fazed by the sound: It saw nothing, it heard nothing anymore. It had no orders to search for anything but junk and grime. And what it found was put into the bag.

"N-No, damn you!"
The machine halted faster this time.
Brzzt! The strange visual glitch shot across Lomdai's sight once more, now strong enough to leave little pixel artifacts in its wake. For just a second the mech perceived the sound of a lake in the echo of a large room.
But there was no lake here. There was only the tunnel with its flow of air and the scurrying of infestation that had made it their home. The tunnel was long and filthy and 01 was tasked to clean it.
Lomdai decisively strode ahead, hacking at grime and collecting it. Any distortions lingering in optics faded quickly enough. It worked hard and quietly, and kept up its machine pace for hours. It left floor after floor, climbing higher and higher.

"If I die then so will you, you slaggin' backstabber!"
Lomdai cringed and whirled around quickly when that voice cried out again, staring back into the hallway in alarm. That voice… it was here as well!
The scraper slipped from Lomdai's grip and clanged to the ground. The sound echoed far through the ventilation system, deforming into a distant gong.
"Command: Identify." The little mech called out into the darkness, not moving an inch from its spot.

Brzzzt-Bang!
Lomdai's optics widened a bit, and their intensity dimmed slowly. The fingers of its left hand twitched, and it lifted the appendage up and laid it passively on its chest plate.
The little robot stood there for a moment, looking down at its intact front. It wavered, dropping on its knees. Out in the dark tunnel, the mech remained.

"Attacked." It synthesized the word. A short blink followed it.
Slowly, it lowered the lifted hand; bend through its knees to pick the scraper back up from the ground. It turned silently, and continued walking down the tunnel, scraping at gunk and grime as it went.

[Location, Office of the Overseer]
"Oh Honored Overseer of Khalanxis. You summoned me?"
The five-faced Quintesson that drifted into the office called out brightly, eyes dancing over the impeccable orderliness of the room before setting on the Overseer. It dipped into a graceful bow.
The to-a-certain-degree ruler of the Khalanxis tower looked up from his documents, and a gentle smile formed on his blue and silvery face, "Tho'Chobai, you're here. Good, good. How was your flight from the Septorus facility?"
"It was calm and orderly, Most Revered One. As all flights should be, Sir."
"Indeed they should. Indeed they should." The Overseer affirmed, hovering away from his desk to collect a bowl filled with colorful, glimmering 'pebbles', "Come try the Lupit Marbles, they are exquisite."
"Oh! Thank you, Wise One. You are too kind!" Tho'Chobai's face lit up with glee and the Quintesson happily fished one of the offered sweets from the container.

The Overseer placed the bowl back on his desk, still smiling. "Tho'Chobai, I called you in for a reason..." He started, "I need a broadcast in the facility, and I would like you to provide it. You have a... certain way with subjects and their attention. I feel that a personal broadcast from the Voice of the Empire would be a major boost for morale." Both Quintessons smiled bemusedly at the carefully placed words.
"I would be honored, Sir." Tho'Chobai admitted, sleek face softening into a gentle gaze, "What is this specific broadcast about?"

"We have taken a batch of robotic workers into service. They were developed by the Aphos wing."
"Emphisa." Tho'Chobai grinned furtively. "I know his division."
"I know you know." The Overseer stated calmly, "and I want it known throughout the whole of Khalanxis that these mechs are on trial, and that they listen only to words of order and discipline. They are drone-likes."

Tho'Chobai purred, "You want me to spin a story! A glorious tale to enthrall the-urk!" He shut up immediately as a tentacle whipped through the air and lashed at him. He could feel his skin burn from the lash, but his eyes betrayed an unbroken spirit. "Oh, my Overseer." He replied, voice sweetening.

"Do not work your wiles upon me, Cho. You know that I know you far too well for that; you cannot take hold of me, and I suggest you stop trying. Immediately."
Tho'Chobai froze for a second, eyes hardening just a bit. "My Overseer… I would never-"
A cold stare is cast his way, a threatening warning. Tho'Chobai coughed and averted his gaze. "My apologies, your Honored One. Sometimes I… lose myself."
"Discipline is mandatory for every Quintesson, Tho'Chobai. I order you to devote a couple of hours to reacquaint yourself with the nature of it."

This invoked a physical retreat from the lower-ranked Quintesson. "Of course, Oh Honored One. I depend on your wise commands, as every Quintesson under the guidance of the Overseers does, Sir."
Rather curtly, the Overseer straightened himself and turned to stare out of the room's window, "Good. I have prepared a news item for you to study; you may find it in the resting chamber that has been prepared for you in the upper habitats. I expect you to be ready to announce this evening."
"Acknowledged, Revered Overseer." Tho'Chobai nodded.
"You may leave."
"Oh Honored One. There is one last thing I would like to discuss with you, if I am granted a few more minutes of your time?" Tho'Chobai's voice took on a pleading tone as he attempted to negotiate the command. His tone was genuine.

The Overseer straightened himself and continued staring out of the window. "/You may leave/."

[Location: Khalanxis, Aphos Wing, lab G-20.17.]
Emphisa entered his lab, and found an Allicon and an unclassified cargo lifter standing in front of one another.
"Oh, what is this then?"
Cindermaw clanged his heels together and gave a firm salute, "Master Creator Emphisa Sir!"
Hextaida Mandar turned, a happy smile flashing onto his features, "Master Creator Emphisa Sir!" The little mech leaned into a lithe bow.

The mono-faced Quintesson gave both of them a nod before his eyes caught sight of the screen behind Cindermaw. He hovered to a workbench and carefully rearranged some tools there to match his demand for neatness. His tentacles were still playing with a wrench as he chased down his curiosity; "Tell me, units; why am I seeing an overview of Hextaida's standing orders on that screen?"
He turned just enough to cast a sidelong glance at the both of them.

Hextaida cringed visibly. That was telling. Emphisa turned to face them fully, a pair of tentacles folding over each other behind his back. He raised one eyebrow, waiting expectantly.
"I, eh." Hextaida wavered.
Cindermaw grunted, "Speak clearly." He nudged the little mech with a foot.
"Guardian Unit Cindermaw has given this unit new restrictions, since it was approached by Sharkticon Unit Macetail for assistance in the dockyards, Master Creator Emphisa Sir."

Emphisa narrowed his eyes, "And did you assist Macetail?"
"N-no, Sir. It lacked the proper knowledge to do so."
"Did you try to assist?"
"Yes, Master Creator Emphisa Sir. This one did try to assist."
"And why did you do that?"
"Sharkticon Unit Macetail is part of the facility, Master Creator Emphisa Sir, and he's superior to this unit. This one had to obey…" Hextaida cringed again as Emphisa neatly rewarded his answers with another keen question. The Quintesson was looking at him, but nothing betrayed what the Quintesson was thinking.
"Are you feeling remorse for having had to obey unit Macetail?"
"N-no Sir. This one does not feel remorse for having obeyed. But it feels… strange, because two superior orders conflicted."
"And will you obey a Sharkticon, or your Creator, in future conflicts of this type?"
"M-My Creator, Master Creator Emphisa Sir. This one will obey its Creator..."
"And if the Sharkticon threatens to eat you?"
"This one will…" Hextaida's optics widen ever so slightly as an appropriate amount of fear takes hold of him. "M-my Creator? I will obey my Creator, Sir."
Emphisa raised his head slightly, eyes focusing on Cindermaw. The Allicon growled, "If a foe holds you at point-blank range of his gun, we follow the commands of our Creators. If a brother orders you to move against the orders of our Creators, we will deny them obedience. We were forged by Quintessons and we do not yield to opposition. Such is the essence of loyalty, and loyalty is our essence."
Emphisa looked back down to the little cargo-lifter, "Do you understand those words, unit D-HEX-23675?"
"I do, Master Creator Emphisa Sir."
"Good answer, unit. Now I want you to leave this room and take some time to let that good answer nestle in your systems until it becomes your only answer. I have some things to discuss with Cindermaw which are not for your audio receivers."
"As you command, Master Creator Emphisa Sir." With that, the little mech bows, turns and leaves the lab.

"Cindermaw." Emphisa speaks as soon as the door closes again, eyes focusing on the Allicon.
"Master Creator Emphisa Sir?"
"What was your intrinsic prompt to order new restrictions on the prototype?"
Cindermaw grunted in surprise, "Ah…" He quickly stopped talking. When he spoke again, it was with a clear and steady voice; "The prototype is your creation, Sir. This unit knows how important the project is; it was my attempt to assist in protecting it."

"And you care, why?" Emphisa narrowed his eyes. Cindermaw did not move; he just stared back without flinching, "Sir, the little one is part of the whole. I would protect it like I would protect my fellow Allicons and Sharkticons."
At this, the Quintesson scientist frowned, concern briefly coursing through his mind.
"Would you destroy it if I ordered you to?"
"Without hesitation, Sir. Like you ordered me to destroy the previous versions, Sir."

"I see. Next time you will report to me before adding restrictions to the prototype: it is allowed to roam for research purposes. To see that you will not repeat this mistake again I will have you appointed to the prison cleaning crew for a month."

Cindermaw blinked in surprise, "The prototype is send away and I'm ordered to walk the rust-shift, Sir? No disrespect meant, Sir, but am I properly receiving that message?"
"Different mechs, different punishments." Emphisa replied smoothly, "You're not the one who ends up on my dissecting table and I don't have several copies waiting in stasis to replace you with. I rule these halls, Allicon, and I rule them to everyone's capacity to bear burden. You do not have a problem with that; in fact you agree that this is very just."
Cindermaw froze for a moment and his systems faltered. Then the Allicon refocused and relaxed, "Acknowledged, Honored Master." With more grace than his form seemed capable off, Cindermaw bowed.
"Good. Back to work then."

[Location: Khalanxis, Aphos Wing, stairwell.]
Hextaida was sitting on one of the steps of the stairs leading up from the current floor. His chin was resting in his hands, arms propped up on his knees. The little mech was staring out in front of him, thoughts with the conversation he had before getting kicked out of the lab.
He should've known better. He should've denied Macetail his assistance. The Sharkticon belonged to Salaxorius. He should stay away from it.
But… Macetail seemed nice. At times. Hextaida of course didn't meet him often.
But the Sharkticon seemed to tolerate him more than others did.
But it was wrong to interact with a mech unit from Justice.

Still, Emphisa hadn't ordered him destroyed. That was a chance to redeem himself, wasn't it? The Quintesson didn't re-evaluate his usefulness; if he made sure to work hard and not go outside of Aphos or didn't linger outside of it if he had to leave the department, then such a re-evaluation wouldn't be necessary. It seemed logical enough.
Slowly, he lifted his head as the realization brought him out of lapse of confidence. His azure optics roamed past the department names on the floor legend, noticing something he had never really thought about because his world wasn't usually constrained to just the Aphos wing.

His department had three floors. Hextaida pushed himself from his seat and approached the sign. Yes, there is was; two research floors, and one containment area. What did they contain? A surge of curiosity erupted from his core and he was bounding down the stairs before the decision had been fully formed. He was still in between tasks. If he hurried he would have enough time to see before he got summoned for work.

Hextaida passed the middle floor, but went further down into the direction of the containment wing. Taking the second exit, Hextaida carefully peered into the hallway. There were no Quintessons here. He did see a guard station right in front of the elevators, with one Allicon sitting at the desk. There was an atmosphere of calmness hanging here, as if there was a perpetual night's watch going on here. Two Allicons were walking up and down the hall in both directions, their footfalls echoing against the walls. The hall was dirty, though, and quite unkept. Hextaida cringed his nose this in an expression of disapproval as he had seen some Quintessons do when faced with a speck of dust.
There was a lot of dust here.

"Little one, come here and identify yourself." The Allicon at the desk called out. Hextaida failed to stifle his surprised gasp at having been detected before he even set a foot on the floor. He lowered his head a bit before walking up as directed, "Y-You saw me?" He asked, not entirely without awe.
"The laser detection system hidden in de doorpost saw you." The Allicon replied cunningly before looking over the desk, "Ah, D-HEX-23327, correct? Or did that one get destroyed already?"
Hextaida blinked, "Eh.. This one is number 23675, Sir."
"You are?" The Allicon stared back in confusion. "Hmm, we missed some updates down here. Scan to verify, please."
Hextaida held up his right hand and much to his delight he was offered the Allicon's hand in return.
"You are right, you are indeed number 23675. Welcome to the world."
"I've been here for quite a few weeks, Mister Kalldfire 6623-557-65 Sir." Hextaida informed quietly.
"Details." The Allicon grinned, "What are you doing down here? This is a restricted area."
"What is here? I have never been here before."
The Allicon answered, and his tone of voice was weary and hinted at exhaustion, "Containment of research specimens for the Masters."
"Could this one look around, Mister Kalldfire 6623-557-65 Sir?"
The Allicon wavered. "Hmm, well you are a denizen of this department and you don't don't have clearance. Just make sure not to touch anything. And don't try to open any doors. There are windows in some places so I suppose you can look through those."
"Thank you, Mister Kalldfire 6623-557-65 Sir!"

Hextaida went zooming off one way almost immediately. Fair enough, '65' sat back down and continued his own work, whatever it was, immediately as well. The little cargo-lifter hopped past door after door until it came across a window. The glass and wall transitioned smoothly into one another; there was no ledge to hang onto. Hextaida grimaced. He tensed, gathered his strength, and jumped as high as he possibly could. The window was still too high up for him to catch a glimpse. Oh, this was a cruel joke the Allicon had played on him! Pouting slightly, the little mech looked back to the guard's station.
No. He wasn't going to get himself into more trouble today by asking for assistance. He'd just have to find another window that was low enough.
With that decision made, Hextaida marched down the hallway, passing grey door after grey door. He passed one obsidian black door, and stared at it for a moment in utter wonder.

The end of the hallway was rather bland. It just ended. There was nothing to see. Shoulders dropped a bit in disappointment and Hextaida Mandar walked back to the guard's post in a saddened mood. For the sake of completing the routine, he passed by the desk and headed the other way.
There was a little spark of hope in him that the other side might be different. There was a chance of it being different!
The moment he started checking out this area, the mech's hopes were already dropping, though.
Door after door, they were all the same and the windows were too high and smooth.
Except for one. At first, Hextaida didn't notice it. He walked past one door that was different, but only noticed it being so when he came back from the end of the corridor.

It wasn't the door that was different. It was the locking mechanism. This one was big glass sphere instead of a keypad. Out of curiosity, Hextaida moved closer to the sphere to inspect it. As the little robot leaned in for a better look, the glass reacted to his approach by springing to live. Perhaps it had always been active. Whatever the case was, a flash of light blinded Hextaida for a moment, and an automated voice called out; "[Identification code scanned, D-HEX-23675. Clearance confirmed. Access granted. Releasing locks.]"
Hextaida watched in shock as the door unlocked with audible clicks, and then disappeared into the wall. A cold bluish glow shone from the entrance. He did not mean to do that! He did not try to open this door! He waited fearfully, glancing down the hall. Nothing happened: No guard came running, his systems did not enter electrocution. Of course it didn't. He hadn't tried to open a door: It had opened itself. There was a lot of power hidden in semantics.

Hextaida took a step sideways so he was standing in front of the door opening. He stood there, staring into the optics widened and became gradually brighter. The pace with which his engine cycled air picked up speed. The pulse of his life energy quickened and the turbines on his back pulled up flush against his body. His form shivered, but it was not in fear. Hextaida shivered with excitement.

Still no Allicon came down the hallway. The little cargo-lifter stepped onto the threshold. The blue glow originated from the nineteen energon bonds that held one single robot firmly pinned against the wall. Each arm and each leg had two bonds. Across the waist was a set of two bonds. Each wing, a total of two, was also pinned with two bonds each. And an especially thick bond was circling the robot's neck. There was no way that this mech was getting free easily.

Hextaida, micromaster-sized as he is, finds Allicons pretty darn big. But this mech? Oh, he's even bigger!
"By the fires of the forge… what /are/ you?!"

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[End of Chapter: Cell 8.]

Cell 8! Who is this robot? And what went on with Lomdai in the darkness? We'll have to see in the next chapter.

About Tho'Chobai: I did not intentionally mean to give Tho'Chobai the same 'nick' that Autobot Blaster has… yet nothing else would fit. However, 'Chobi' is going to be nicked 'The Voice of the Empire'.

Thank you for reading!