Cool with violence

/Squinting his optics he carefully read every name on the hatches placed in the vertical line. His digits trailed the engraved names until he suddenly made a loud “AHAH!” noise and busted the flap open with his hidden in the frame combat knife. With one swift motion he pulls out the oblong metal coffin, not caring much about the loud metallic bang it makes upon hitting the flooring. Another swing of the knife, one solid kick and the coffin’s lid falls to the side making even more noise./

And there we have our first volunteer~! Meet Blastkicker! Ready to try to give life a kick again!

/Drift laughs excitedly and leans over the coffin, resting one of his legs on the edge of it to get a better look at their soon-to-be screamer. The body despite the obvious signs of rust has been in good condition. The large gaping hole in Blastkicker’s midsection gave away that the poor fellow kicked the bucket thanks to a blast that went through his body. Nonetheless there was enough of dead parts for dark energon to work./

"Grandpa here still got it too, I'd say..." he rose his optic to Drift, from a frame with almost-severed arm. "I suppose since we don't know his name we could actually call this one Swiss Knife..." he pointed to frame's forearms, Beneath the somewhat riddled plating there was a hidden socket with a few quite useful looking utilities. He looked around, wondering.

::Clear.::

/Red grunts over the comm and straightens up, inching closer to the hatches sticking out of the walls. He tilts his helmet curiously reading the stamped into the little metal plates memorials for the fallen mechs./

::Here rests Rustsack, died protecting what is left of our home. Pfffff.:: /He snorts in amusement./ ::Surely he rusts in peace, or several pieces in fact. Judging by the date. Oooh~ This guy was called Twistermatcher! I’d shoot myself in the face too if I had a lame name like that. Poor guy~ I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a guy named Swiss Knife. Makes you wonder if he’d come in handy.::

::How far is our exit?:: 

/He asked after a longer while, almost bumping into his partner who stopped, probably to check up the map again. Drift tried to adjust his optics more to the darkness but he could only see some basic black shapes, pitch black holes on their sides could suggest that they came across one of the tunnel’s intersections./

From where they were it was just a small crawl down one of the side tunnels and they should be above a corridor right next to the first proper stop on their little adventure. He moved past the vent, scanners didn't pick up any signals of nearby activity, so he opened the crate carefully.

/He whined staying close to his partner with his optics stuck on the others back reflecting the white light of his optics. When it came to moving around in the dark Perceptor was better, mostly because of his fancy visor and Drift forgot where did he put in his goggles. Revision of his subspace sounded like a pretty good idea./

"Should I go, or you want to rethink your strategies and try again…?" dark mech cleaned his arm where other mercenary kicked him while trying to squeeze through the vent. He picked up Drift’s sword scabbards.

… Go first.

/He sighed and decided to try and compress his shoulder plating. The metal slowly slid back making his arms look smaller and slimmer. It was a pretty useful trick to use while wearing coats for whatever reason. Drift always thought that when you’re wearing a badass coat giant shoulders sticking out look retarded, and while this situation didn’t require any cool looking coats the trick surely came in handy when he could fit into the vent now without any bigger problem./

/Percy was long gone when Drift overcame the mundane task of squeezing through the black tunnel and got out, or more accurately, fell down at his face./

Oh, fraggit~! 

/He jumped back to his pedes and looked around in the dark. Spotting his partner’s magenta optics he came in closer, unsubspacing his scabbards to attach them back on his hips./

"Should I go, or you want to rethink your strategies and try again...?" dark mech cleaned his arm where other mercenary kicked him while trying to squeeze through the vent. He picked up Drift's sword scabbards.

And I should probably remind you, you actually got to move to get your job done~

O-Oi! Don’t touch that! I-I! Aaah!

…

And I should probably remind you, you actually got to move to get your job done~

Errr…. Percy?

….

/They followed the well-trodden path going along the eastern wall of the base. The outer ring of the base was usually build to serve as an defense wall and armed with watchtowers. A little further there were halls for stuff that required lower security or easier access. Since they weren’t after any Intel or anything of that sort they didn’t have to go that much deeper into the facility where most of the remaining forces were stationed./

::Okay, I see our entrance.::

/Red stopped kneeling against the wall and starting to dig out the partially buried, medium sized vent leading underground. Looks like noone visited this part of the base for longer than they thought./

::You would think that they would care more about the security, pshhh. And later they are surprised that it’s so easy to find them!::

/He snarled looking with mild disgust at his dusty servos./

::Let’s hope it’s not falling apart as much as our Boss’ base does.::

/Only few cliks had passed before Drift landed in the previously set coordinates. There still was the risk that the Decepticon’s might notice them as they were landing, but there’s no fun without risk. Red nodded to Percy to go ahead and secure the perimeter around the ship while he stayed in the cockpit and checked everything twice. The system was on lockdown, camo working as intended and Percy was taking care of the additional security checks./

/Drift met with his partner outside, at the top of the mountain made of rocks and trash, towering over Calabi. At the bottom of the giant cavity there was the Decepticon base, or at least what was left of it (not like the Autobot HQ was in any better condition, both bases were worn out by the constant ambushes. Cons even moved their base around few times unlike Prime who wasn’t afraid of the enemy). Artificially created hills around the facility made it easier to defend and patrol, but given the last Decepticon activity maybe they shouldn’t worry about the latter too much. He looked at Perceptor and pulled out his binoculars to take a look at the area around the base himself./

/He hummed and got back up to look at the map. Percy as usual was always ready. From all possible ways the most convenient was marked with bright red./

I like it. We can hide Calabi behind the mountains of trash, with our new camo noone should spot it~ The vents will lead us directly into the facility.

/Just like Autobots, Decepticons didn’t have enough of resources and men to keep moving with their base all the time. With their universe being more than dead there was a high probability that the old Decepticon base that was still functional by the end of their most active phase of war was still operational and inhabited./

I’m guessing the mortuary should beeeee… mmmm… here.

/He tapped the map, pointing at set of large rooms in the outer circle of the base. The building was complex and they didn’t have the exact blueprints of it (their spies died before the map was complete, or so they were told), but what’s a better place for a graveyard? Drift couldn’t really understand why bury the corpses in the first place. What’s dead is dead, you might as well strip anything useful off the corpse and keep going; but in the end Drift was never good with sentiment./

/Drift finished removing black dots off his finish and slumped down the large and comfy sofa they installed in the common area of the ship. He yawned looking over to Perceptor who was done with getting rid of some red splashed over his own, dark paintjob. Red smirked and threw his rag at his partner playfully./