Small boulders and chunks of rubble were crushed under the massive treads of Fallout’s assault tank form as he returned from his patrol of quadrant 17, grid 24. The crunching, splintering sound the pieces of uneven terrain made reminded the massive decepticon of the sound made by the charred and twisted chassis of the sparkles, when he had rolled over them in his unstoppable advance across the battlefields of the past. However, that was a long time ago.<br/><br/>Since he defection to the autobots, and his release from stasis prison Fallout had been given nothing but menial tasks and routine patrols to carry out. It was obvious that the autobots didn’t yet trust him with any sort of sensitive data and why should they? He had betrayed his own people; it wasn’t a far stretch of the imagination to think that he would betray his former enemies as well.<br/>However, perhaps that was changing. Only a few mini-cycles earlier he had received a priority transmission from autobot city ordering him to return and meet with the leader of the Autobots, Optimus Prime. Fallout didn’t know why the Autobot leader wished to speak with him; Fallout had never even shared two words with the last of the Primes.<br/><br/>As Fallout neared the entrance to Autobot city, he transformed from his Tank mode, into his equally impressive robot form. As a robot he stood head and shoulders over nearly all of the autobots in the city, and was almost equal in stature to prime himself. However, the autobot leader had some sort of… presence… that made him appear larger than he actually was. His thick armor plating was dented and scratched from the numerous campaigns he had fought in his life cycle, and his decepticon emblem showed large and prominently on the front his chest module for all to see.<br/><br/>As he approached the gate, the two guards standing there made a big show of readying their weapons and barking orders for his approach. They did this every time Fallout returned from patrol. They seemed to enjoy the thrill of power they got from ordering about the massive decepticon and the rush of perceived power that came with it. “Not that unalike are we…” Fallout muttered to himself as he submitted to their inspections.<br/><br/>“What was that soldier?” The higher ranked of the two barked at Fallouts comment.<br/><br/>The gears in Fallouts mouth ground with tension as he felt the pressure in his oil began to rise.<br/><br/>“…Nothing…” Fallout said.<br/><br/>“Nothing what?” The leader of the two demanded, obviously enjoying showing off his power to the younger autobot at his side.<br/><br/>“… Nothing…. Sir….” Fallout managed to spit out. The fact that a mighty a warrior as he, was reduced to considering these lesser automatons HIS superiors was enough to make his coolant boil.<br/><br/>“That’s what I thought.” The autobot said with a smug smile<br/><br/>They made a great show of taking their time to thoroughly scan every inch of Fallout and compare it with records on file to make sure not even the slightest detail had changed. They checked and rechecked his systems for possible spying devices, and only when they began to grow bored with their fun did they allow Fallout to pass.<br/><br/>Under normal circumstances, Fallout would have grabbed the impudent whelp by his central air intake manifold by one hand, and ripped his optics out with the other. But his station in the autobots was probationary to say the least. It was made very clear upon his release, that ANY aggressive behavior towards the autobots on his part would at best land him back in stasis prison, and at worst have him scrapped for spare parts.<br/><br/>Fallout bid his time for now. He would have his chance for revenge. For now he had to go to a meeting with Optimus prime…<br/>