After relaying the recent event and loading up the truck, Predaking asked the Vehicons for their views on the Police.
"Before the War, only the police and military could fight," one of the Vehicons replied. "The Autobots want it to be that way again to control Decepticons. They'll say no weapons whatsoever, so show one, and you'll be locked up."
Predaking's brows tilted sharply downward. "No one controls when or whom I fight. I warned them that we Predacons would act in our own way if provoked."
"The Autobots couldn't even contain us," Ripclaw added.
"They would regret trying." Predaking nodded, but then wondered, "Hmm. What other rules did the Police enforce?"
The same Vehicon replied, "In the past, you could get arrested for things like abandoning your post, robbery, murder… But well, of course the pit fights were allowed."
"Pit fights?" Skylynx asked.
"Didn't you hear about them? Higher-caste Autobots loved to watch lower-caste bots slaughter each other in the gladiatorial arenas called 'the pits'. Even if murder was illegal, the police turned a blind eye if only lesser bots were being killed."
"That is terrible!" Ripclaw exclaimed.
"If you think so, then you could really be a Decepticon after all."
"Ironhide swears he will do away with the past corruption," Predaking mused. "He admitted the faults. Perhaps there is hope after all."
The silver Vehicon called from the driver's seat of the vehicle, "Autobots are full of scrap!"
Predaking twisted his mouth. It really was starting to seem like some Autobots were far more respectable than others. But he didn't imagine he could convince Vehicons otherwise. Autobots had apparently made games out of killing them.
"May we accompany the vehicle to your destination?" Predaking asked the silver Vehicon. "I crave a break from this city."
His three brethren perked up.
"I would like to stretch my wings," Skylynx said.
The driver replied, "Uh, sure… You can follow, see what the factory's like."
"Awesome!" Darksteel yipped.
The silver Vehicon started up the vehicle, which roared and belched out a cloud of stinking gas. Wheels the size of new Cybertronian houses rolled the truck forward on thick black treads. After Predaking transformed, he launched through the smoke and gagged before reaching clean open air. His brethren soared up behind him and together they lazily glided, staying low and slightly ahead of the puttering vehicle.
Curving his neck, Predaking watched Iacon shrink out of sight. His spark drummed with excitement as well as what he hesitated to identify as apprehension. Not a night had passed since their house was built that they hadn't slept in it. Home was there in Iacon, even among the obnoxious Autobots. Familiarity lay in routine; comfort lay in Vehicon company. The world burst around him like a popped bubble, landscapes sprawling in all directions. Yet the struggle to pinpoint any beauty only tightened Predaking's chest with more apprehension. Flat grey fields stretched out around him wherein the skeletal remains of cities sat in decay.
His eyes settled on the streams of energon which divided the land. Some long-legged, antlered creatures gathered by one of the streams to drink, and at another, a flock of tiny, winged beasts landed. Relief filled his spark, before vanishing as soon as it had come. A city loomed in their path, growing taller as they approached it. Every hole and blastmark came into focus. The heads of corpses peeked from windows in the buildings.
Such sights Predaking had already seen with Skylynx and Darksteel on their first journey to Iacon. Yet now, unease trickled into his blood. He imagined how each bot had met their grisly end and wondered who had mutilated them. Fantasy scenes of battle flashed in Predaking's mind. Then, he saw an image of the buildings before the War, where they stood clean and whole with living Cybertronians gazing out the windows.
Darksteel pounced on top of a building and startled Predaking. He hopped from roof to roof, until one caved and he fell through. The other Predacons whipped their heads back, but Darksteel clawed back out, chittering in glee. While Darksteel tested the buildings' integrity, Predaking checked on his other brethren. Skylynx's eyes were glazed; he hardly looked around, just down and forward. Ripclaw's widened eyes and upraised brows unveiled her wonderment and sadness. Predaking nodded to himself in approval, then glared at Darksteel with reproach.
For hours, nothing changed. Small devastated cities lingered near or far. The ground spread out in patches of grey, yellow-brown, or silver if lucky. To the sky Predaking looked, seeking blue comfort until clouds concealed it. He was forced to mull over the difficult thoughts pawing at him.
Everything he had been told about Cybertron could be true, including the giants. And the concept may not be more preposterous than the zombified Predacons he had faced. No one had rebuked Whirl for lying about Combiners. On the contrary, the other Autobots had spoken about them and Prowl had threatened Predaking with something called Superion.
Predaking stared at the massive transport truck thundering along below. He pondered how he would attack something as large as it. Then, his brows scrunched from paranoia and he dove through the truck's exhaust to land on its cargo bed. The Vehicon jumped and turned his black head. Predaking transformed, stepped up, and sat in a seat behind him.
"These transport trucks are not sentient, are they?" he asked.
"No, not at all," the Vehicon answered. "They're just machines."
"What are Combiners?" Predaking pushed.
"Uh, they are bots that have been experimented on to be able to combine with each other."
"Is Superion one of them?"
"Yeah, he's a group of five flying Autobots."
Predaking sat, calculating. "Just how large is a Combiner? And a titan?"
"A Combiner can be twice your size, maybe more. It's been a while since I've seen one. A titan is… well, the Nemesis is a dormant titan."
"The ship was a bot?" Predaking gasped.
"Trypticon. But he got so damaged that he could never change form again or even think. Megatron made him our warship. Funny story actually, one time the Nemesis was so damaged that Megatron fuelled it with dark energon and…"
Skylynx landed on the truck and transformed.
The silver Vehicon cried, "Hey, I don't want to overload this truck! I got places to go, alright?"
Ripclaw and Darksteel headed toward the vehicle.
"Wait!" the Vehicon called.
Ripclaw held back, but Darksteel landed. Nothing happened; the truck kept rolling on. Sighing, the Vehicon waved over Ripclaw and she joined them.
As the clouds glowed orange from the hidden setting sun, the Vehicon shared stories from Earth. The most entertaining were those of Decepticon power struggles, Starscream's period of defection, and other wild tales of Starscream from him bringing clones onboard to needing surgery to fly again.
"The ever-changing rank of second-in-command gave us so much gossip…" the Vehicon added.
They learned of Soundwave, Laserbeak, Knockout, Breakdown, Airachnid, and Dreadwing. Breakdown, the Vehicons had been fond of because he spoke to them like intelligent beings. The Insecticons, they had feuded with.
"They were like us, being identical to each other, but they thought they were above us," the silver Vehicon muttered. "Bigger, stronger, giving themselves names… Well, at least we don't lose our willpower because of an Arachnicon!"
The Insecticons were apparently gone, teleported no one knew where by Soundwave.
"On the day of the horrific zombie-vampire apocalypse…"
Which the Predacons learned all about: shambling undead Vehicons with mouths that split open and spilled pincered tubes.
"Did their mouths split like Altero's?" Skylynx asked.
"Yeah, a lot like his," the Vehicon replied. "He took inspiration from that, but the undead didn't have orange teeth."
Darksteel commented, "That's pretty cool. Does his face unnerve you then?"
"Well, it got our attention. And I'm sure a Vehicon with teeth will startle any Autobot or Decepticon. He likes surprising bots and making statements."
Predaking politely asked their storyteller, "Have you pondered a name for yourself?"
The Vehicon stared ahead at the darkening road. "Not yet."
"I see, none yet…" Predaking said. "Although, I recall that Starscream treated you specially. He referred to you as his Seeker armada."
"It was nice to feel special," the Vehicon admitted. "Until I recognized it was fake. He grabbed a random number of us, Knockout did his thing to change our colours, and then we were elite . But we weren't any different than the other troopers. We existed just to make Starscream feel important, replace his old Seekers even."
"Will you change your colours to purple or anything else?" Predaking asked.
"Not anytime soon. There aren't many Silvers left. So we stand out, can meet up with each other, talk scrap about Starscream. Two of them said you slammed Starscream to the ground once. And a human wearing the Apex Armour beat him up. Did you see that?"
"Yes, I did crush him," Predaking smirked. "I missed the other event, unfortunately. How amusing it sounds."
The Vehicon's stories carried on well after the world had darkened and the moons elbowed their way through the clouds. However, he trailed off when an ancient factory sprouted into view. Its walls were round and rusty, but orange heat throbbed through open windows. The truck rolled to a stop beside other parked vehicles, which were crawling with Vehicons unloading scrap and loading fresh materials.
Hopping out of their truck, the Predacons tended to their own burden.
"Put it all on the conveyor belt," the silver Vehicon instructed as he climbed down the ladder on the side of the vehicle.
The Predacons hoisted wall chunks over their heads and did as they were told.
"Can we see how the metal is processed?" Skylynx asked the driver.
"Alright, but I don't want to take too long," he replied.
The Predacons followed the silver Vehicon through the largest doors they had yet seen. Heat blasted them as soon as they stepped inside, but Predaking immediately espied dozens of Vehicons through the shimmering air. Their eyes matched the orange hue burned into every surface of the factory, but their purple bodies stood out, trudging along. Predaking observed their work environment with worry and intrigue as scrap metal dropped from conveyor belts into enormous smelting chambers as large as his beast mode. Molten metal poured out from the chambers into molds before being solidified into new shapes with blasts of frosty air. Vehicons passed through the puffs of frosty clouds, soaking themselves in wet droplets, before returning to the production line to cut and polish new metal.
Over the churning of the conveyor belts, the splash of dropped materials, and the hiss of cooling molten metal, Predaking yelled, "The work conditions are harsh here!"
"That's why we take turns!" the Vehicon yelled back. "But there is a rest area in the other building!"
Predaking then noticed a box high up the back wall: a command centre with an Autobot overlooking the whole operation. They were blue and red with the insignia of a broken cross on each shoulder.
Predaking asked, "What is that Autobot responsible for?"
"Fire and medical safety," the silver Vehicon said. "Hot Spot's alright."
"So you are cared for here?"
"You can trust any bot with the four arrow mark. It means they're Neutral, dedicated entirely to aiding anyone and everyone."
Predaking nodded, raising his brows. He knew he had seen that symbol before on a hospital bot. He'd never considered they weren't Autobots like those they had arrived with. Yet sure enough, he couldn't make out any Autobot insignia on Hot Spot.
The last of the Iaconian wall chunks plopped into the smelting chambers. Now, the silver Vehicon padded out of the factory with the satisfied Predacons.
"So… are you four coming back with me?" the silver Vehicon asked.
"We shall," Predaking said.
"Alright… let's load up and go then."
The Predacons made short work of the task by shoving stacks of freshly molded items into the truck. After climbing back into his seat, the driver rolled the vehicle away over the plains. Predaking and his brethren spread their wings under the blazing light of the moons and soared into a pleasant night flight.
When they approached the first old city in their path, Darksteel dove down onto the vehicle instead of the building tops. Predaking swept down to hear Darksteel ask in bot form, "Do you have any more stories?"
The Vehicon replied, "Oh, plenty."
Once Predaking landed and transformed, Skylynx and Ripclaw headed down. The silver Vehicon kept quiet until they were all gathered, before he spoke again.
"Listen," the Vehicon rumbled. "Just as a heads up, there's a Decepticon I'm supposed to meet on the way back."
"A Decepticon?" Predaking growled. "Not Starscream, I hope."
"No, but this one is an important one. I just don't want any trouble because you weren't expected to be here. It's fine, right? You're not Autobots…"
Ripclaw asked, "What are you meeting this Decepticon for?"
"I'm doing a trade on Altero's behalf, out where no Autobots will give Vortex trouble."
"Vortex, huh?" Darksteel prompted.
"Remember the Combiners we talked about…? Vortex is a component of one. He's very strong, so we don't want to upset him."
"What is the trade?" Predaking inquired.
"Uh… I'm sorry, it's private. Only the Silvers can know."
"Is it a weapon?" Skylynx mused.
"I can't say, but be on the lookout for a big copterbot. And stay down here now so he doesn't get the wrong message."
The silver Vehicon went tense and silent for a while.
"Right, a story…" he swallowed. "I forgot to tell you about the Shifter, Makeshift."
As the Predacons searched the sky for Vortex, Darksteel said, "What's a Shifter?"
"A very rare sort of Cybertronian with advanced T-cog abilities…"
The Vehicon described Makeshift and his demise, until a large form surged over the plains carried by a spinning dark halo. Everyone went silent as the thrumming rompf-rompf of chopping blades grew louder, fighting the rumbling vehicle to be heard. Predaking eyed the Decepticon with fake disinterest until the hefty flier loomed over the vehicle, battering them with gusts of wind. Then he transformed, landing on the edge with a bang as heavy as a Predacon's. Now Predaking's eyes snapped to him, quickly studying the brass and pink-coloured might of Vortex. An emotionless yellow visor stared back at him almost eye-to-eye as Predaking stood.
"Who're they?" the Decepticon barked.
Every Predacon but Darksteel stood up in the vehicle. Vortex crouched, flicking his stunningly sharp copter blades on his back.
"Allies!" the silver Vehicon gasped. "They're with us."
"Oh?" Vortex growled. "But why'd you need to bring them?"
"They aren't a threat to you."
"If they're a threat to me, all you Vehicons'll regret it." Vortex glared at the Predacons. "And I'll chop at least one of ya to bits before ya kill me ."
Darksteel chuckled from his seat, "Wow, you mean more business than Whirl!"
"Whirl?" Vortex blasted. "I hate that lesser copterbot!"
"They hate him too!" the Vehicon exclaimed. "Now, let us help you. We got the stuff."
Vortex straightened up. "I got yours too."
The silver Vehicon bent over and yanked out a box buried beneath his seat. Meanwhile, Vortex opened a compartment in his chest and took out a small box of his own. The Decepticons exchanged gifts, both of them lifting the lids to peek inside. Predaking squinted. The Vehicon had received a green vial and a batch of needles, and Vortex, a glowing purple cube.
"The substance of Unicron!" Predaking shouted.
Vortex shut the lid of the container. "I ain't gonna use it to poison the Well! Dark energon can be medicine, you know. And we need that. Is that a problem?"