Discontinued: Remade version on account.

Open air.

(Yeah I know, two chapters this close to each other? which demon did I sell my soul to?)

I groaned as I looked around the small and cramped cave. "Just another air pocket," I called out as I turned back to the drill. I slowly climbed onto the drill, making sure not to get the gash on my side caught on anything, before sitting down before both the controls and the human.

"We'll find them soon," he said, although I could tell he was trying to reassure himself more than me. In all truth, I didn't imagine he cared if I was worried, and of course, I couldn't blame him for that. I've tried to kill his friends before, humans and Autobots.

I flicked the switch for drill power before pressing down on the throttle, beginning to bore another hole into the cave wall ahead of us. I didn't like these MK1 drills; the fact that all you needed to do was hit one switch to power the drill was . . . unnerving? It always concerned me, at the very least. Those MK2's were much safer; you always needed to keep a foot on the pedal for it to move. Granted, the depth scanners were better on this model; I could see the next set of caverns much better on this screen than I could on the newer one.

"Soundwave?" Jack spoke. I looked down at the human, who had sat himself down on the ridge between the control panels and the screen.

"Yes?" I answered back, making sure to keep an optic on the drill's screen.

"I know you said that it was because 'it's the right thing to do,' but . . . well, why are you helping me?" he asked. A fair enough question, I suppose.

"Look, your friends have helped me a lot recently, and I wouldn't feel right not helping them," I explained.

"Huh," he looked at me with a skeptical look, "Surprised you care about that; I'd figured that you Decepticons only care about yourself."

"For as shocking as it may seem, we Decepticons do actually have morals."

"I have reason to doubt that."

"Kid," I held back a sigh as I attempted to explain this, "The Autobots and Decepticons aren't fighting over nothing; we all have reasons behind our actions."

"What are yours?" he stared at me; it felt like he was staring through my visor and right into my spark. I had to hold back a shudder. I could lay out all of my thinking, but . . . well, I don't see the point in that, although I might know a good story to help explain.

"Long, long ago, I used to be a member of the Cybertronian elites. I was actually a member of the high council if you'd believe it," I chuckled at that statement; that was so long ago it felt like a dream.

"However," I continued, "corruption was growing, and the class system was getting countless bots killed. Of course, those bots could leave! They could go to one of the colonies and do what they wanted. But then there was a plague, and we closed off the space bridges, trapping us all on Cybertron."

"I left both the council and Iacon; I moved to Kaon so I could give a more hands-on approach to helping the poor." That was also when I got into gladiator fighting, but I saw no reason to go off on a tangent like that.

"The minicons loved me; I actually met Lase- . . . I met some good friends there. Eventually, I met with this strange, former miner who had been born without a name."

"Was that Megatron?" the kid interjected; he looked captivated.

"Indeed it was."

"What was he like back then?"

"He wasn't what he is now, I'll say that much. But anyway, he invited me in on this plan to help the poor and weak."

"Kill the Autobots?"