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Title: Recruitment: Impactor

PCs: Impactor, Orion Pax

Location: Fort Syck

Date: 9 April 2015

Summary: Orion Pax arrives at Fort Syck to offer Impactor a pardon in return for service.


Fort Syck. The least wanted assignment of any of the Autobot assignments. You either are here because you really really cheesed off someone in high command and ended up on their scrap list, or you're a prisoner here. After recieving a list from Zeta Prime, Orion Pax has spent most of his time here working on pardoning those that were formerly on Sentinel Prime's scrap list. He's worked his way to the very bottom of said list, where the prisoners that are being pardoned were iffy, a coin flip that really decided if they should be released or not.

As he enters the maximum security solitary area, Orion comes up to the guard station. "I'm here for a mech named Impactor. I have a pardon for his release." the mech states calmly, before the guard just shakes his head and chuckles. "Small wonders never cease, do they?" he mutters before leading the way down the hall and wrapping his baton against the blast proof door to Impactor's cell. "Stand back, prisoner!" the guard barks. "Door opening!"

Inside of the cell there stood a large mech. His hands were shackled with energy bindings. Only recently he'd been transferred to Fort Syck, brought down from Luna and Garrus-1 maximum security prison. This place wasn't much better, but at least the mech was on the planet. It had been thousands and thousands of years of nothing but waiting. Impactor did not even receive the mercy of spark removal and containment. He watched the aeons pass from inside of his cell on dwindling energon and a nigh-empty tank, kept online for the amusement of the guards.

A visitor? That never happened. Impactor did as the guard bade. He stepped back until his backside was up against the wall. Inside of the darkness burned the light of the orangish-red optics of the miner. Fingers flexed some before closing into fists again in the bindings and he waited with silent, unending rage at what the 'system' had done to him

Orion Pax hasn't gone in for his upgrades yet, so what may greet Impactor probably isn't all that impressive. A slight mech of red and blue, this is the famed police chief or Rodion, supposedly the mech that stood up for the beliefs and freedoms of everyone. As he glances up to Impactor, and gives a casual smile. "Impactor of Kaon. You were incarcerated for charges stemming from an attack in Maccadams for no less than ten, no more than twenty vorns. That sentence was doubled after the attack on a fellow prisoner, Whirl while in custody at Garrus-1. Correct?"

Impactor stared down at the red and blue mech for the longest cycle. He'd heard of Orion Pax. The guards sniped about the mech left and right all the time. Impactor still bore the hazard stripes of a miner. The black and yellow barrier bars. Secretly, he tried to retract his hands and produce his drills as he stared in the face of 'authority'. Or at least a representative of authority. Questions came. They enraged Impactor, but that last word: 'Correct'? That was not what he was expecting. A confirmation? An admission? That was the first chance he had ever gotten.

"Yeah," Impactor grumbled at the shorter mech. "I slagged that mech hard for the beating he gave Megatron. And it landed me in solitary for my gears to rust. And back at Macaddam's, those cadets flew Rung across my table and deserved a beating. Someone has to stand up to thugs."

Orion glances towards the guard to his side. "Remove his bindings." Pax states in a subtle but firm order. "My name is Orion Pax. Under the orders of Zeta Prime, I have been instructed to issue you a full pardon on his behalf, provided that you in turn agree to join the Security Forces." the mech considers this for a moment and then frowns. "Zeta's offer is contingent on conscripting you into our forces. I am willing to give you a choice. You stated yourself, you wanted to stand up to the thugs of the world."

Pax draws in an intake of air. "I read both reports. I would understand the loyality towards Megatron. I, too, once listened to and revered his writings. However, he is no longer that same mech you defended so honorably. He now is the one hiring and recruiting the thugs and criminals you wanted to defend Cybertron against and turning them loose on a populace that is confused and now burdened with a war. I would ask that you join the cause to make this right, and to bring back justice and peace to Cybertron as a whole. But I cannot hold you to it." the mech admits. "You could just agree to the conscription and just defect the first chance you get. But I am asking you to give it a chance first. We can make it work. And for all my orations.. the Autobots will need an iron first such as yours to protect those that are unable to defend themselves."

Impactor glanced between Orion and the guard. His red optics burned.. almost boiled.. as the guard came over to undo his bindings. There was apparently some animosity between them. Impactor sneered as the bindings were finally removed and the guard backed slowly away. He flexed his hands and wrung his wrists a few times to get his servos warmed up and the lubricant flowing again. He looked back to Orion and narrowed his optics.

"Don't compare yourself to me when it comes to Megatron. I slagged the mines with him day in, day out, for cycles upon cycles. We worked out afts off for the likes of those cadets to walk around like they owned the place. Our fingers were worn down to the endoskeleton more often than not while we swung pickaxes and drilled ever deeper. They threw us down the pit and what came back out was not a pretty thing." Impactor finished his ranting and then considered Orion's words. "Freedom.. for service. Against the likes of those that would toss a million Rungs around? I'm in. If it lets me slag the hell out of those kinds of tanked-up mechs, how could I refuse? As far as Megatron... you tell me he has gone back on his words. All of that poetry I suffered, all of that waste discharge about peace through non-violent means?" Impactor would have spat had he enough energon in his mouth to do it. "If I see him, I'm going to make him eat all the poetry he ever spouted and then I'm going to take every vorn I spent in here out on him, because the way I see it - he didn't stand up with me back at Maccadam's. And while I got thrown in here, he got off scott free. And he squandered that freedom."

Impactor rose to his full height then. Ventilators opened and released compression. Pneumatics hissed and servos whirred as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. Then he held out his hand to Orion and said, "Put me in, Pax. I'll be your heavy-hitter."

Pax considers for a moment and then admits. "I would not even begin to compare our lives. I understand the differences and had my optics open to it all." Orion admits with a firm shake of his head. "I still believe that change can be made. But now is the time for war it seems. A war that Megatron himself had started." he decides finally that the time for talk is over and firmly accepts the hand that is offered. He may not have the crushing grip of Impactor, but he has the resolve to follow through. "Welcome to the Autobots then. I assume you know the way to Iacon? The Decagon should already have you set up with quarters."

He considers for a moment, and then decides not to.

Better to let Whirl find out about this on his own, right?

Impactor took Pax by the hand and crushed in a tight squeeze and then a good hard shake that probably would send the smaller mech flopping had Impactor enough in his tank. Be that as it may... he released Pax's hand and lowered his own, stating, "Then we will war with those who would bring it upon us. And then effect peace once it is over. I'll make my way there as soon as I get something in my tank. Thanks for the welcome."