"OF COURSE IT'S YOU! SINCE WHEN IS IT FRAGGING NOT YOU?"

"Thunderhoof…"

"DON'T THUNDERHOOF ME, STEELJAW! I HAVE HAD IT UP TO HERE DEALING WITH YOU AND YOUR SCRAP!"

"Thunderhoof…"

"WHATEVER IT IS YOUS ARE PLANNING, I AIN'T INTERESTED!"

.

. .

. . .

"Well, what excuse do yous have this time? I can't wait to hear it!" Thunderhoof demanded, vocalizer filled to the brim with salt.

Steeljaw didn't answer. He remained silent, a rather bored look upon his faceplate. Arms crossed, and tail wrapped around his pedes, the tip twitching as he waited.

The lack of an immediate response irritated Thunderhoof. He stomped right over to Steeljaw and towered over him, leering at him through slitted optics.

"Why ain't you answering me?"

"Depends. Are you done yelling?" Steeljaw retorted calmly, completely unfazed.

Thunderhoof and the other released Cons, however, were completely taken aback by Steeljaw's behavior. They were used to him showing some level of aggression in the past.

Now?

It's like they don't even know him!

"Is there somethin' wrong with your processor or something? Why ain't yous actin' like you normally do?" Thunderhoof questioned. The other Cons were wondering the same thing, but kept their thoughts to themselves and let the Cervicon take the lead for them.

"Believe me, Thunderhoof, that is a very long story," Steeljaw expressed, already feeling exhaustion creeping up on him.

"Well, yous better get started, then, cause I ain't goin' anywhere unless I know exactly what yous got us into this time."

"Don't worry, I will. But wouldn't it be better to tell in a more open and comfortable setting? And besides, when was the last time any of you had fresh Energon?"

.

. .

. . .

Damn Steeljaw to the Pits, he knows how to get what he wants just by words alone. Thunderhoof and the others didn't trust him one bit, but considering how little they knew of the situation, opted to behave and comply. That, and inhibitors leased from the Iacon Police Force prevented them from being able to transform or activate any mods or weapons.

Very annoying, but it could always be worse.

Presently, the Cons are following Steeljaw and his group while being flanked by a bunch of Vehicons and a reformatted Eradicon. They weaved through corridors without breaking for anyone; those who were in the way quickly got out of it.

Except for one.

"A little excessive, don't you think?" A teal flight-frame asked, blocking the entrance to the galley.

"They're formidable in their own rights," Steeljaw answered nonchalantly. "Why do you think I chose them specifically for this part of the mission?"

"And what mission would that be, exactly?" Fracture questioned from behind Thunderhoof. His mini-cons, Airazor and Divebomb, crowded around his legs, anxious, and a little overwhelmed by everything.

"Please tell me I get to destroy something!" Underbite pleaded, as morbidly giddy as ever.

Steeljaw circulated a deep vent, attempting to keep himself calm and not lose his temper, which, unfortunately, was a common occurrence with his former pack mates.

"If you plan on destroying anything, it will not be this ship, because if you do, then I will have to build one from scratch, starting with you," Slipstream threatened, the words and tone in which said words were spoken sending shivers up the Cons' backplates.

"Good. I'm pleased that you understand."

With all that out of the way, Slipstream pushed herself away from the door and departed the group's presence.

"She's scary!" Underbite commented, his plating rattling as he tried to shake away his nerves.

"More like annoying," Starscream muttered, crossing his arms and glaring in the direction his sister went.

"Runs in the family," Knockout teased, ducking just in time to avoid a claw swipe from the silver Seeker.

"Knockout, shut up!"

"Oh Primus, not now," Bumblebee groaned, hiding his faceplate behind his servos. Moonracer looked just as disappointed, and Fodder and the Vehicons, embarrassed.

Steeljaw would have been completely done with the display if he wasn't so focused on the more important task of getting his old acquaintances to sit down and listen to him.

"Come on, I've got some explaining to do, and knowing them, they'll be at it for a while," the blue/gray Lupicon whispered, grazing his claws lightly over Thunderhoof's servo, beckoning him to follow.

Thunderhoof was a little put-off by the gentle touch. It was something Steeljaw never was.

Careful? Yes.

Gentle? No.

"Yous heard 'im," Thunderhoof said, turning halfway to partly face his comrades. They all exchanged looks of uncertainty, but followed anyway, their curiosity getting the better of them.

Steeljaw opened the door to the galley and entered. He waited until the other Cons had settled down before closing the door, leaving it unlocked in case someone else needed to get in, and grabbing them all freshly brewed Energon.

Considering his frame type, Underbite laid on his side with his backplate pressed against the wall. Leaning against his flank were the other Cons: Thunderhoof on the right; Saberhorn on the left; and Fracture in the middle, with Airazor and Divebomb huddled together in his lap.

"I thank you for the hospitality, Steeljaw, even if the last time we saw each other you betrayed me, but that's all in the past," Saberhorn started, sounding as passive-aggressive as a nobleman – technically noble-mech – can be while taking short sips from his cube. "As for the present, I am quite intrigued by whatever is going on, and what part we play in all of it, so to speak."

Fracture and Underbite agreed with the Insecticon.

Airazor and Divebomb were in light recharge in the comfort of their master's presence.

Thunderhoof remained statuesque, his red optics solely focused on Steeljaw.

"Like I said, it's a very long story…"

.

. .

. . .

One very long story later…

.

. .

. . .

"And since this is, hopefully, going to be the new Decepticon homeworld, or I guess the home for any outsiders that aren't really welcome anywhere else, I need some… help with the whole thing, from those I consider… well…"

Steeljaw stammered, trying to think of the right word.

"So basically what you're saying is that you want our honest to Primus opinion on this place, and that you also want… I mean need our assistance in its development, at least the first stage of determining whether it's actually habitable for our kind," Fracture stated. Everyone in the room except Thunderhoof stared at him.

"What?"

"Yes, that is precisely where I was going with all this," Steeljaw said, relieved yet pissed that someone else was able to finish his thought process.

"And I know that none of you should do this after all the trouble I caused or dragged you into and whatnot, but I would appreciate it if you did consider it."

Fracture, Saberhorn, and Underbite looked at Steeljaw in shock, and eventually turned to each other with the same expressions. To them – not knowing the personal details of what Steeljaw and the others experienced during this mission – it was all so weird.

So… baffling.

Leading them back to square one.

"Why ain't yous actin' like you normally do?" Thunderhoof repeated, his voice much quieter than normal, lacking its typical spitfire.

"Things change, Thunderhoof," Steeljaw answered, shifting in place. If Thunderhoof dug too deep…

Steeljaw didn't want to think about that possibility.

"And in order to survive, we had to adapt, whether we liked it or not."

Thunderhoof didn't answer, but based on the flickering of his optics, it's clear that he's thinking.

"Still can't believe you agreed to work with an Autobot," Fracture grumbled, adjusting his position while taking great care not to wake his mini-cons. "With Bumblebee no less. And the others…"

"What about the others?" Steeljaw growled, immediately on the defensive. His old pack mates flinched, not expecting that response out of him for something regarding his current team-mates.

"Just… you know… a vain medic with a complicated history. The former Air Commander and Megatron's Second-In-Command. Then there's the femme…"

Fracture trailed off, fear bubbling to the surface as he witnessed Steeljaw's growing anger.

"I…I think I'll stop talking now."

"Wise choice," Steeljaw stated, tone of voice low and cold. Fracture shrunk a bit and wrapped his arms around his mini-cons.

After a few minutes of tense silence, Steeljaw realized he may have been a little too threatening, which was something he never worried about in the past. Now, though, he couldn't help feeling a little guilty regarding his actions. His new-ish persona was already confusing them. No need to add fear and intimidation back onto the equation.

"Apologies. I guess I may have gotten a little more attached to my current team than I thought."

And just like that, the fear was gone, replaced by a good old air of confusion.

"Yeesh, you must really be out-of-character if they're reacting like this."

All the mechs jumped at the new voice, startled out of their plating.

Of course, it was none other than Phantomjaw, leaning against the wall in a corner of the galley, arms crossed, one leg bent, and tail lying atop the one planted firmly on the floor.

"Phantomjaw, stop doing that!" Steeljaw snapped.

"Doing what?" The black and white Lupicon asked, playing dumb and innocent, yet barely able to hide the creeping amusement.

"Showing up out of nowhere and… wait, how did you even get in here without us noticing?"

"More like when. I came to get some Energon a while ago, but then I heard you guys and I figured I might as well stick around."

"You mean you've been here this whole time and you just decided to show yourself now?"

"Well, yeah, as if that isn't obvious."

Steeljaw face-palmed and shook his helm, grumbling something under his breath.

"Ey, uh, Steeljaw, who is this?" Thunderhoof asked, gesturing to Phantomjaw.

"You seriously told nobody about me?" Phantomjaw mused. His brother's mortified reaction made him laugh. "Oh, this should be good!"

The Cons looked between the Lupicons.

"Steeljaw, old chap, care to introduce us?" Saberhorn asked.

"Primus, give me strength!" Steeljaw prayed into his cupped servos, which were covering his faceplate. He had to introduce his brother to his old pack mates, and he was dreading what the outcome would be.

"Guys, meet Phantomjaw – my brother. And by my brother, I mean my actual brother."

"His split-spark, if you will," Phantomjaw clarified, grinning from ear-to-ear, thoroughly enjoying whatever it is that he's putting his brother through.

.

. .

. . .

"THERE'S FRAGGING TWO OF YOU NOW?"

Thunderhoof's sudden yet totally expected outburst shook the room and reverberated throughout the entire ship. The other Cons in the galley had to cover their audio receptors to dull the sound.

"WHY IS THERE TWO OF YOU? ONE OF YOU IS BAD ENOUGH! NOW YOU'RE TELLING ME THERE'S TWO OF YOU?"

For the second time that day, Thunderhoof marched over to Steeljaw and towered over him.

"How's come this is the first we're hearing about this?"

"I have my reasons, none of which I need to explain to you!" Steeljaw snapped. He swore he would keep a calm, cool helm, but Thunderhoof's shouting and Phantomjaw's teasing combined within a short timeframe resulted in a personality back-track.

"Oh, so now yous suddenly back to normal, eh?" Thunderhoof retorted, placing his servos on his hips. "Why act different when you haven't changed at all?"

"None of your business, Thunderhoof! Now stand down before you cross a line I can't guarantee you will come back from."

The Cervicon snorted, pleased to finally be getting a reaction out of Steeljaw. He was beginning to become a little unnerved by his former leader's strange new behavior.

"Or what? Yous gonna rip my spark out or something?"

"Don't. Tempt. Me."

Steeljaw vented and took a step back. Thunderhoof raised an optical ridge, suspicious of the Lupicon's intentions. He may be acting differently, but there's no way Steeljaw would ever back down so easily.

"I came so far… We all have… And I am so close…"

Steeljaw raised his gaze to meet Thunderhoof.

"I will not let anyone ruin this for me."