Actions Vs. Consequences

"This is ridiculous. How come we're always waitin' around for him?" Thunderhoof put his servos up with a sneer, speaking to himself in a pout of no prevail.

"'Cause he's the boss. And the boss calls the shots. Everybody knows that." Clampdown gave a slightly amused huff as he stepped forward, the side-stepping Crabricon rolling his antennae like optics.

"Then maybe it's time somebody else became the boss around here." The Cervicon growled, turning to loom over the fearful Crabricon.

"If you think you're qualified, Thunderhoof," Steeljaw mysteriously stepped out of the shadows, a smirk caressing his muzzle, "then take your best shot. Otherwise, be silent and listen." He growled viciously with a cold-hard stare.

Thunderhoof rolled his carmine red optics, crossing his large, powerful arms. The rest of the pack acting nonchalant as they disengage, avoiding trouble or just a confrontation with Steeljaw.

"Not everyone in this little hive of Decepticons is pleased with the current leadership. Some want to follow them off Earth," He paused, his optics falling on his pack to make sure they were listening intently, "others want to stay in ruint."

A devilish grinned crawled its way up from hell and onto his muzzle, his white canines flashing at the mechs before him, "we could use that division. We just need a little support. And a little fire power." He clenched his fists in front of himself for his own little dramatic effect.

Overload went to raise a servo, but Clampdown's optics made a 180° turn, looking behind everyone as he heard a buzzing noise approaching, "somebody's comin'."

Steeljaw jumped at the interruption and shut his intake. He looked off in the direction, as Glowstrike and Saberhorn flew over them in their insect alt modes and transformed. Landing between him and his pack, they put on a smile.

"Steeljaw. Just the Con we're looking for." Saberhorn grinned, stepping forward. He stood tall with the sharp horn that protruded from his forehelm.

"We'd like to have a word with you if you're not too busy, that is." Glowstrike hummed, the thin femme walking past him, the pirate in persuit, who waved him along, "walk with us."

"Not busy at all. Just... killing time." Steeljaw dismissed his pack and followed the Insecticons closely.

They walked on the metal, rusted tin can for a moment, before Glowstrike took a moment of ventilation, "we've been keeping our optics on you, Steeljaw. Your activities have not gone unnoticed."

"Is that so?" Steeljaw hummed, trying his best to imitate a calm, collected mech.

"You've been very busy around here, my friend," Saberhorn smirked, using his servos to help him speak. He dropped an octive as he continued, "very busy, indeed."

Steeljaw paused, stopping in his tracks as the two leaders kept walking. Had they caught on to him? Did they know? He couldn't risk it. He raised a dark-grey claw that aligned with the smoldering sun. He got ready and began to bring it down but stopped once Glowstrike proposed, "which is why we'd like you to become part of our leadership team."

Steeljaw drew his servo back in a panic, putting it behind his helm to seem embarrassed or humble, even. The Insecticons turned to face him, noticing he stopped, "in a support role, of course." Glowstrike dropped.

Saberhorn's servo went to the smiling Steeljaw's chestplate, "You don't have to answer yet," he spoke with a chuckle. "I'm sure it's a bit... overwhelming."

"Yes, uhm..." Steeljaw smiled more awkwardly, internally screaming at how dumb he felt in the moment. But he had to keep the act. "quite a surprise."

"Come to us with an answer soon, Steeljaw. I'm sure you will consider it." Saberhorn tilted his head with a pleased expression. Steeljaw nodded as the pair transformed and flew off. Steeljaw stood there, considering how in the name of the Allspark, did he get such a wonderful chance? Was Primus in his favor? He couldn't help but replace the dumb smile with one that felt more natural, more sinister.