Technique is easy. Materials are hard.
That was Nathan's takeaway from the Hatchery. You needed Protoforms to make Decepticons. And since they didn't have a Protoform farm, they were scavenging used Autobot frames.
Recycling enemy corpses to build your own children. Classic Decepticon efficiency.
He tossed a failed, half-formed hatchling into the disposal chute.
HISS.
The Hatchery door slid open.
"Lord Starscream."
Nathan's demeanor shifted instantly from bored janitor to loyal soldier.
Starscream strode in, ignoring the bow. He walked straight to the racks, his red optics scanning the surviving sacs.
"How many?" he demanded.
T-19 stepped forward, nervous. "Reporting, Lord Starscream. My rack has six survivors..."
"Mine has four..."
They tallied the count. Twenty-eight.
Out of nearly sixty pods, less than half had survived.
"Twenty-eight? Acceptable," Starscream muttered.
He glared at the seven Middle-Tier drones. "They hatch in one cycle. Do not let any more die. I want results, not excuses."
"Yes, Lord Starscream!"
...
One Day Later.
The hatching was violent.
It wasn't like a chick breaking an egg. It was like a grenade going off inside a water balloon.
The sacs tore open, spilling fluid and metal. The hatchlings hit the floor and immediately unfolded, their limbs snapping into place with sickening cracks. They went from embryonic balls to four-meter-tall killing machines in seconds.
Now, they were all gathered in the Main Hangar—a massive staging area that connected the base to the outside world via the Connors Canyon exit.
Nathan leaned against a wall, watching the chaos.
The 28 new Decepticons were Junior Warriors. Ground troops. They were smaller than Nathan (about half his height), looking like miniature, angrier versions of T-19 and the others.
And they were currently beating the scrap out of each other.
CLANG!
THUD!
"Who threw that shell casing?!"
"I'll rip your head off!"
"Fight! Fight! Fight!"
A circle had formed around two brawling hatchlings. The other twenty-six were cheering, betting, or just shoving each other.
Nathan watched with the detached amusement of a zoo visitor.
They have the temperament of toddlers and the strength of forklifts.
If we didn't have weapons, they'd probably try to eat us.
He didn't intervene. Decepticon culture was based on strength. Let them fight. As long as they didn't use blasters or damage the hull, it was just "training."
"T-22."
A voice interrupted his thoughts.
Nathan turned. A large, bulky figure was approaching him.
T-24.
One of the original seven. A brute with heavy armor and a quiet demeanor.
"What is it, T-24?" Nathan asked, feigning disinterest. "Come to watch the kindergarten fight club?"
T-24 didn't laugh. He stood next to Nathan, watching the brawl.
"Do you know why Lord Starscream has gathered us here?" T-24 asked suddenly.
Nathan raised an optic ridge. That's a weird question.
Most drones just waited for orders. They didn't ask "why."
"I don't know," Nathan shrugged. "Why do you ask?"
T-24 turned his head, looking directly at Nathan.
"You spent three days in the lab with Scalpel. Did he tell you anything? About Starscream's plans?"
Bingo.
Nathan's internal alarm bells went off.
Why is he so curious?
Why is he probing me for intel?
Scalpel had said one chip was sabotaged. One drone had free will.
Nathan knew he wasn't the sabotaged one (he just had a human soul). Which meant the real rogue unit was still out there.
Is it you, T-24?
Are you the glitch in the system?
Nathan played it cool.
"Scalpel?" He scoffed. "That bug just used me as a battery tester. He didn't tell me anything."
He stared back at T-24.
"Why? Are you worried about something, brother?"
T-24 held his gaze for a second too long, then looked away.
"No. Just... eager to fight."
Liar.
Nathan marked T-24 on his HUD.
[ TARGET DESIGNATION: SUSPECT ]
Just then, the hangar bay doors groaned. The locking mechanism disengaged.
Starscream had arrived. And he wasn't alone.