Runaway

Chapter Seventeen - Off the Deep End

A few jours later, the war had been going on for over three quarters of a vorn.

School would have started again for Steeldust if he hadn't been where he was now. Crystal City had fallen too now, with many being taken captive, killed, or joining the Decepticons who had overtaken the city-state.

Rumours of a scientist with one optic, among others, was said to have been researching there for a time, the city-state had been home to many brilliant ideas and projects after all. Now all in Decepticon hands.

Even if Crystal City shared a border with Polyhex, Gauntlet hadn't been affected much by the new territory taken. Swindle had somehow ensured most of the armies stayed out of their territory, so for them, life went on as it had since their own city-state had been claimed.

Unrest continued, but it had diminished some.

For those with, supportive, and protected by Gauntlet, things stayed the same. For those who were targets or had valuable resources, they were always wary and wondering when the gang's next arrival would be.

///

The lights in the factory suddenly turned off with a loud, synonymous click.

"What was that?" one guard that was patrolling the main hallway asked his partner.

"Don't know," muttered the second with a shake of his helm.

Both switching on their flashlights, they scanned the corridor, aiming the beams of lights upward.

The first guard tapped his audio and frowned. "Comms are down, there's just static."

"Someone's hacked into the system?"

"Maybe."

"We'd better find the others."

The pair then walked off in the direction of the nearest patrol, the first guard glancing around him skittishly, jumping at every shadow.

They soon approached another set of guards, these ones using the light beams of their alt modes.

"Are your comms down too?" one of them asked.

"Yes," replied the second guard. "Something's not right here."

"That's what we figure too," the fourth mech said. He gave the first two a nod. "I guess you two had the same idea as us to form bigger groups?"

"Yes-"

"It won't matter," whispered the first mech, interrupting.

The other three turned to face him.

"What do you mean?" asked the third guard, lowering his optic ridges.

The first guard glanced over his shoulder. He then turned back to the others, optics wide. "You all know as well as I do whose territory this is," he said shakily.

Tilting his helm, the fourth mech asked, "The Decepticons?"

"No. Worse," came the reply.

"What's worse then the Decepticons..." the third guard trailed off, optics widening a fraction as he realized what his fellow guard meant. "Oh... Scrap...."

"What?" asked the fourth, glancing at his partner. "I'm new here, remember?"

The third one returned the look, mouth in a grim line. "Remember those stories the rest have told you about the Gauntlet gang? Them."