Subspace

Cyclonus seized him by the top and bottom edges of his breastplate, wrenched him off his feet, and threw him bodily into the other four, knocking them all flat beneath him—a few dents, but no serious damage—and even as Dead End squalled, “My finish!” from underneath and Motormaster began to flail his way off them, Cyclonus mounted his oxidizing laser rifle from subspace and leveled it between Motormaster’s optics at close range, freezing him in place still pinning the others down. “Are we done?” he said quietly.

Motormaster darted a wary look up at him and back to the muzzle and said, “Uh—yeah. Yeah, we’re done.”

“Good,” Cyclonus said. He returned the gun to subspace and held out his hand and helped Motormaster back to his feet with an easy jerk. “