"Are we leaving yet, sir?"
The question hung in the air of the Connecting Hangar. The other six squadrons had already departed. Starscream was long gone. Only Squadron 4 remained.
Nathan stared at his four subordinates—Units E-13 through E-16. They were fidgeting, eager to deploy.
"Are you deaf, sir? Or just slow?" The clone muttered under his breath.
Nathan narrowed his optics.
Decepticons respect strength. If I don't break them now, they'll break me later.
"Are you..." Nathan stepped forward, looming over the impatient clone (E-13). "...questioning my command?"
The four clones exchanged glances. They were new, arrogant, and stupid.
"We wouldn't dare, sir. We just wanted to remind you of Lord Starscream's orders—"
WHAM!
Nathan didn't let him finish. He grabbed E-13 by the throat cables and hoisted him into the air.
"Gah—!"
CLICK-WHIRR.
Nathan's right arm shifted. The triple-barrels of his 12.6mm Rotary Cannon spun up, the muzzle pressing directly against the clone's faceplate.
"You remind me?" Nathan growled, his voice dropping to a dangerous, metallic rasp.
He swept his gaze over the other three terrified clones.
"I don't care how the other squadrons operate. In Squadron 4, there is only one rule."
The cannon barrels spun faster, a high-pitched whine filling the silence.
"My word is law."
"Do. You. Understand?"
"Yes! Yes, sir!"
"Understood!"
"Please don't shoot!"
The clones scrambled to agree. They had expected a leader, but they hadn't expected a psychopath.
"And you?" Nathan tightened his grip on E-13's throat.
"I... I understand! Sir!"
THUD.
Nathan dropped him. E-13 hit the floor hard, scrambling backward in fear.
"Let this be the first and last time," Nathan said coldly, retracting his weapon. His demeanor shifted instantly from murderous rage to calm indifference.
"If you question me again, I will recycle you myself. And I won't need a disposal chute."
"Yes, sir!" The four clones bowed their heads, trembling.
Nathan smirked internally. Fear established.
He needed absolute control. He had secrets—Scalpel's mission, the AllSpark heist—and he couldn't have four idiots reporting his every move to Starscream.
"Move out."
Nathan turned and walked toward the canyon exit. The clones followed him like obedient puppies.
...
The blast doors opened, revealing the twilight sky of the Great Basin Desert.
Rain fell softly on the canyon floor. A desert iguana scurried away as the massive metal giants stepped out into the open air.
"It's so high..." E-14 whispered, looking up at the sliver of sky between the canyon walls.
"Where are we going, sir?" E-13 asked, much more respectfully this time.
Nathan checked his internal map.
Starscream assigned us the Western Sector. The Colorado River.
Perfect.
"We are going to our patrol zone," Nathan announced.
He walked to the center of the canyon clearing.
"Squadron 4! Transform and rise up!"
KA-CHUNK-WHIRR-ZING!
Nathan leaped into the air. His limbs folded, panels shifted, and engines roared to life.
He didn't scan an Earth jet yet. He was currently in his Cybertronian Jet Mode—a jagged, angular spacecraft that looked like a dart made of knives. It wasn't subtle, but it was fast.
WHOOSH.
His afterburners flared blue, propelling him up through the canyon gap and into the clouds.
Behind him, four smaller jets followed in formation.
Nathan soared through the rain, his sensors sweeping the horizon.
Destination: Hoover Dam.
But first... I need a disguise.
I need to scan an Earth vehicle.
[ SYSTEM ALERT ]
[ SCANNING FOR ALT-MODES... ]