Before the war, Orion Pax was famous back on Cybertron for being the Supercop. He could fight with the best of them and was able to see through anyone's lies. A master of getting information and knowing what to do with it. If you were on the receiving end of his wrath, you were fragged.
Which was why Drift was paralyzed with fear.
He tried so hard to hide it, which made him look even more suspicious. He balled his hands into fists and forced a smile. None of this helped him shaking like a leaf in an earthquake, sadly. Orion gave him a look like he had told him that Megatron had become a pacifist.
"Why are you smiling like that?" He asked. Drift flinched.
"I... I didn't think I would ever run into you again... Sir." He stood up as straight as he could. Orion's optics narrowed. Oh Primus. He was only getting more suspicious. If getting kicked off of the Lost Light was bad, this was worse. If Orion ever heard his story, he would roast him in front of the engine and eat him for breakfast. His optics fell down to his chest.
"What happened to your sigil?" Drift froze.
"Um... Shenanigans." He gulped. Orion circled him and stared at him like a wolf would do to its prey.
"What sort of...Shenanigans?" He asked. He circled back in front of drift and knelt down so that he was on optic level. Drift used to see kindness in those deep blue optics, but now they were colder than the deep depths of space, and at the same time hotter than the depths of the pits. He swallowed hard.
"I-It's a long story." His voice trembled. Orion's face darkened.
"I happen to enjoy long stories." He said softly. His voice was just above a whisper but the words were as loud as a sonic boom to Drift. It was no use. It was all over, but at least he could save Chromedome from Orion's wrath.
So he told him what he told Rodimus. He tried so hard to make it sound sincere, but he hardly payed attention to what he was saying. When he was finished, Orion stood.
"That does sound like something Deadlock would do." Drift's spark lept at the mention of his old self. Orion strided over to his arsenal and plucked a large rifle off of the wall. By now he had accepted what was inevitably going to happen at this point. Resisting his imminent fate was like trying to escape a black hole with concrete shoes.
"But you are no longer Deadlock. You are an Autobot, but you still seem to have a bad habit of telling fibs." Every drop of energon that coursed through Drift's systems turned to ice. Orion's optics were now filled with anger, but a different kind. He recognised that anger. It was the kind of anger that came from someone you cared for getting hurt. Drift's spark lurched.
"I know someone is making you do this, So tell me, Drift..." He put extra emphasis on his name. He cocked the rifle.
"What really happened?"
So he came clean.
And Orion was furious.