Author's Notes: I know this chapter is short, but I've been too busy with paid writing work to write much fanfiction lately. Hopefully my schedule will clear up soon. Anyway, I've received a lot of positive feedback for this story, so I wanted to get another chapter out while the ideas were still fresh. I think this is going to be a good one!

Also, CodenameAgentC asked if PR-35 was supposed to spell a name like Steve or Joseph or something. No, it doesn't. I didn't go with that method of naming Vehcions. I instead went with the idea that their letters indicate where they were built (exp. PR for Praxus, TGP for Tyger Pax, etc.) and their numbers indicate in what order they came off the assembly line (PR-35 was 35th). Anyway, hope that clears up any confusion, and thank you for reading :)

Chapter 2

Uncertainty

The vorns passed quickly, at least it seemed that way to PR-35 at this stage in his life. When he was built Cybertron was a place full of promise and dreams of conquest on behalf of Lord Megatron. Now their world was destroyed, their ship was stationed on a planet called earth, and Megatron barely clung to life in a medbay with no medic. As much as PR-35 lived to serve the Decepticon cause, Megatron's condition was not what truly concerned the Vehicon. It was the Autobots that were stationed on earth.

He had taken down many Autobots in his time; culling the weak one by one. Now though, only the strongest remained. These Autobots were led by the Prime himself, and rumor had it they couldn't be killed. Some Vehicons even believed the Autobots carried humans around to give them super strength and aggression. They certainly seemed stronger and angrier when a Vehicon got too close to the Autobots' living treasures.

As if their strength wasn't enough, it now seemed like they were going out of their way to take out as many Vehicons as possible, and it all started with an Autobot named Cliffjumper. PR-35 remembered that day well. The red Autobot was brought in by AT-67 and HL-04; injured and broken. Starscream had relished the moment when he used his bare claw to impale the Autobot to death. Talk about giving him the finger! Since Starscream was a flier, did that also count as flipping Cliffjumper the bird? PR-35 would distract himself with such inane thoughts to drive away the feeling of impending doom from his spark. The Autobots were really out for energon now.

"Hey, PR-35!" His friend TGP-538 called out to him, "Did you hear the news?"

"You mean about KL-122 getting his helm smashed in by Bulkhead?" PR-35 replied, "Yes, I heard. I really liked that guy. It's such a shame he died."

"You like everybody!" TGP-538 scoffed, "No, I mean did you hear about the new arrivals that boarded the ship yesterday?"

"More Vehicons? Hooray!" PR-35 cheered. Despite his experience he could still be a bit excitable, "I hope they're Eradicons. Or standard Vehicon fliers. We need more fliers. I think our new leader would like that. Oh, wait! Is it too soon to accept Starscream as our leader? Lord Megatron might wake up, right? Then again if he doesn't and I wasn't quick enough to accept Lord Starscream then I might get thrown out the window while we're up in the air and die!"

"PR-35. Shut up," TGP-538 ordered dryly, "Focus. The new arrivals aren't drones. They're officers. More specifically medics. Now, medic also means torturer, so we really need to get on their good side. Understand?"

"Medics?" PR-35 repeated, "Does that mean Lord Megatron will live?"

"Why do you care? He doesn't care about us," TGP-538 pointed out.

"Yes he does!" PR-35 argued defensively, "Our master commissioned our very lives for the sake of saving Cybertron. When that didn't work he could've ordered us all scrapped, but he didn't! He sacrificed himself for our cause, and he's lying in a medbay right now because of that! TG, our master took the time to program each and every one of us. He deserves the best medical care that can be provided for him."

"Yeah, well good luck with that," TGP-538 rolled his optics, "They're sending a glorified cosmetic surgeon. A plate doctor! They couldn't find anybody else. Too many Decepticon medics are sent out into the field, and most don't come back. I'm pretty sure the only reason this medic is still alive is because his nurse is a real bruiser. Their names are Knockout and Breakdown. Those names make them sound like they have a real good berthside manner, huh?"

"As long as they can fix Lord Megatron, I don't care what they're called," PR-35 said in a low voice, "Even if they can't...I just hope they try. Officers can be a tricky lot. They have the chance to replace Megatron, or at least get promoted if he dies. I wish they would let us Vehicons work on Lord Megatron. If I was his medic I would do everything in my power to save him."

"You wanna be a medic? We're drones, you idiot," TGP-538 reminded him in an annoyed tone of voice, "You know PR, sometimes I think you talk too much."

With that TGP-538 walked away; leaving PR-35 with his thoughts. That was never a good thing. PR-35's thoughts had a way of tormenting him when he least expected it. Usually, the worst time was when he recharged. He would often have nightmares that involved images of Autobots breaking him, tearing him limb from limb, or hacking him to pieces with their swords. He often woke up his roommates when he screamed himself awake.

A few weeks passed with little happening. The news everyone had been waiting for was finally announced: Megatron was finally awake! That was also the day it was announced that Starscream was in traction. Typical.

Despite this command-altering news, not much changed for the Vehicons. They went on missions same as always. They patrolled the halls same as always. They were ignored by their superiors same as always. PR-35 was okay with this. He had lived this routine for his entire existence, and he was happy to be back in his comfortable little rut.

He did notice something that was making him nervous, however. More and more troops were being killed by the Autobots. Sure, the officers were unaffected, but the Vehicon forces were dwindling at a slow but noticeable rate.

This frightened PR-35 to his core. What if he was called on a mission? Sure, he had survived this long, but something was different about this planet and these Autobots. They seemed...determined. It was the only word he could think of that fit. They were determined to rid this world of the Decepticons. The 'Cons got more of the energon stores, and definitely had numbers on their side, so PR-35 knew logically he had little to worry about. It didn't matter though. He was worried.

Over the vorns PR-35 had studied his fellow Vehicons and figured out which ones lived verses which ones died. He had built his strategy based on the data. A close combat fight with the Autobots was doomed to failure. PR-35 was not strong, and he knew it. Instead he focused his efforts on targeting and long-range assault. Vehicons were never distinguished from their peers, but if anyone had been paying attention they would've known that PR-35 was an incredible sharp shooter. He never missed his target, and he was rarely seen by the enemy.

That was why PR-35 found himself at the training room shooting holographic targets to relieve some of his tension. He had roused out of a heavy recharge when he dreamt the Autobot Bumblebee had ripped out his voice box for revenge and then smashed his face in. He just needed to shoot something to make the images of those bulging bug optics go away.

PR-35 was halfway through his holographic targets when the door opened to admit another soldier. PR-35 didn't even bother to look away from his practice. Whoever it was likely didn't want to see him. If it was another Vehicon they probably wanted to avoid his constant chatter. If it was an officer then he was as good as invisible anyway. Either way, he was free to shoot.

When PR-35 was finished and the holograms faded away, he started cleaning the gun barrel attached to his right arm.

"That was some pretty impressive shooting," an unfamiliar voice commended him.

PR-35 turned around to see who it was, and was floored to see it was an officer! He froze at the sight of this guy. This mech was almost as wide as he was tall, had a fierce looking red face with yellow optics, a white helm, and a blue boxy frame. He had tires, so he was a grounder. There weren't too many grounders outside of Vehicons that were allowed to serve in Megatron's inner circle, so that could only mean one thing.

"Are you one of the medics, sir?" PR-35 asked nervously.

"Yeah, I'm Breakdown; Knockout's assistant," Breakdown replied amiably, "What's your designation?"

"Why?" PR-35 yelped despite the friendly tone Breakdown used. Superiors only asked your designation if you were about to be punished Or sent on a suicide mission.

"Hey, calm down buddy," Breakdown replied soothingly, "I just thought you could use a friend. Of course, if you'd rather I just left you alone, I will."

"Buddy?" PR-35 said the word quickly, as if his vocalizer was racing past his processor.

It was unheard of for a superior to speak to a mere drone with such respect. Drones don't have sparks. They weren't actually Cybertronians. They only existed to serve Megatron and prevent valuable soldiers from being thrown into unnecessary danger. PR-35 couldn't believe this mech, a mech with a real spark and an actual name, wanted to be his buddy. He knew he should not forget his place. He knew he should salute respectfully and return to duty. He knew what he should do, but he also knew this was an opportunity he couldn't pass up.

"Don't go," PR-35 said softly, "We can be friends, if you want to, sir. I'll bet being a medical assistant must be fascinating. Please tell me all about it."

"Sure thing, pal," Breakdown nodded as a casual grin graced his face plates, "I'll tell you about it over some energon. Oh, I've got to tell you about this one femme Knockout tried to repair back on Cybertron! It was a riot! He was trying to scan her chassis for a wound, but she thought he was trying to grope her. Well, I don't have to tell you she went all Chaos Age on his skid plates! I had to pull her off Knockout before she ripped off his dermal plating. I wound up going on two dates with her after that happened. Anyway, there was also the time when…"