CHAPTER TWO
--Cybertron--
"So, is that a yes?"
Punch sighed as he shifted in his seat, shooting an annoyed look at the bot sitting opposite him at the table. "Don't put words in my mouth," he said bitterly. "I hate it when people do that."
Impactor frowned, staring intently at the yellow and blue bot. "I don't see why this should be a difficult choice to make. Our friends are in danger--"
Punch held up his hand. "Let me stop you there. Run that by me again: 'Our friends?'"
"Our fellow Autobots," Impactor stressed. "Don't tell me you don't care about your comrades' safety."
"No one cared for mine when I was Tarantulas' prisoner for Primus knows how long," Punch retorted. "No one ever thought to look into why I was suddenly doing work for the Decepticons."
"I thought you said they'd reversed what the 'Cons had done to you."
"Only because Rodimus knew a mnemosurgeon who could explain everything for me." Punch tightened his grip around his now-empty oil can, causing it to bend inward. "Look, I'm as worried as you are about our buddies on Earth, but you're asking the wrong bot."
Impactor sighed. "Look, I understand that you've got your grievances; I've got 'em too, like you wouldn't believe. But I'm not gonna let 'em stop me from helping Springer and the others."
"Are you sure that's what this is about? 'Cos I remember the last time we went to Earth, it was to find Tarantulas."
Impactor shook his head. "I don't know if he's there or not; the trace we had on him's gone cold." He leaned intently over the table. "So let me ask you one last time: Are you in or not?"
Punch said nothing at first, not meeting the Wrecker's gaze. After a moment, he finally shifted his optics back to Impactor's. "Who else has said yes?"
* * *
"I should have said no. I should have said no. Why did I say yes?"
Fractyl cursed to himself as he walked along the deserted streets. It had only been the second time he had made the same mistake, but it still stung just as bad. What even was it about Impactor that scared him into agreeing to things he didn't want to do?
"I don't even have Offroad here to 'speak for me,'" he grumbled to himself. "God, I'm so stupid."
In the back of his mind, he could hear his more rational self screaming at him. He was already lucky for not dying in his first outing as a Wrecker, it was saying; why in the Pit would he agree to a second?
"Because I'm a Unicron-spawned moron!" he snarled as he kicked at a rusted can that had been discarded on the road. It hit a dumpster bin, which provoked it to let out a loud squeak.
Fractyl stopped to stare at the bin in bewilderment. After a minute, the head of a large blue rat poked out from the dumpster, glaring at the Decepticon.
"Oi, watch it, will ya?" the rodent snapped. "Some o' us choose to live here, ya know."
Fractyl sneered back at the rat. "Forgive me for not approving of your... distinguished lifestyle."
"Hey, man, I didn't ask ya to walk on my property."
"I'm only here to meet up with someone," Fractyl said bitterly.
"Meet up with...? Hang on." The rat scrambled out of the dumpster and transformed into a small blue and gold robot. "Yer not one of Impactor's bots, are ya?"
Fractyl frowned. "You know Impactor?"
"Yeh, I was asked ta' provide you guys with a ship. God, I'm bad at making good first impressions." He quickly dusted off his hands before extending one to Fractyl. "Name's Packrat."
The Decepticon regarded the grime-covered hand with disapproval. "Fractyl," he muttered. "Are the others here yet?"
Packrat lowered his hand and nodded over Fractyl's shoulder. "That's 'dem, ain't it?"
Fractyl turned around to see a group of three vehicles driving towards their position. He recognized the blue car to Impactor's right to be Punch and the mustard-colored (and toxic-smelling) truck to be Toxitron. Once the trio had converted to their robot forms, Impactor stepped over to Packrat.
"You've got our ship?" the Wrecker leader asked.
"Yeh, it's 'round back." Packrat regarded the four bots in front of him. "'Dis all of yer crew?"
"No," Impactor replied. "We're expecting one more."
"One more?" Punch repeated. "I thought Alpha Bravo and Offroad had turned you down."
"They did, but this one didn't. It's been a while since I've worked with him -- and I understand that he's been in a lot of slag recently -- but he should prove to be a very valuable asset."
Fractyl cleared his vocal processor. "So, ah... where is he?"
"You've got a red dot on your forehead," Toxitron pointed out.
The Decepticon froze as the aforementioned dot moved from his head to his chest. The others turned to see a tall orange and yellow bot perched on the rooftop of a derelict building. As the newcomer stowed away their sniper rifle, Impactor waved to them.
"Glad you could make it, Sandstorm. Anyone give you any trouble along the way?"
"Nope," Sandstorm said, jumping down from the ledge to join them. "I think everyone's too preoccupied with the escaped 'Cons to worry about me."
Punch frowned as he eyed Sandstorm warily. "I thought I heard you were in prison."
Sandstorm glanced at him. "I was, until there wasn't a prison for me to be kept in anymore."
"So, what, you're on the run now or something?"
Impactor stepped in before Sandstorm could answer. "We don't have time for backstories," he growled. He then turned to Packrat. "Is she ready?"
Packrat blinked at him, confused. "Is who ready?"
"The ship," Impactor said impatiently.
"Oh. Yeh, it's ready." Packrat motioned the new Wreckers to follow him. "Fair warnin' though, it ain't exactly easy on the optics."
"It's not a Junkion cruiser or something, is it?" Fractyl asked as he and the others followed Packrat around the old derelict warehouse.
"Not exactly," Packrat murmured. As if one cue, the six bots came around back and came face-to-face with the vessel in question.
The green hull of the heavy transport was spotted with rust stains. Mismatched plates had been crudely patched all along the vessel, but the most glaring one was the red plate slapped over a large faded Decepticon symbol. The tip of the wings were painted a faint orange and Fractyl spotted an open paint can resting nearby.
He glanced over at Impactor, whose expression was neutral. He noticed Punch and Toxitron exchange looks while Sandstorm seemed as if he was done with life.
"It's not exactly the Xantium, is it?" he muttered.
"It'll do," Impactor grunted. "What do we call it?"
"It was registered under the name Requiem, for what it's worth," Packrat said. "No idea who had it last, but...."
"I think Requiem will do." Impactor then turned to address his team. "This is your last chance to back out. Once we're away, there's no turning back."
"I'm pretty sure we've all figured that," Punch muttered.
Impactor nodded before turning on his heel and striding towards the Requiem, his new crew close behind.
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