Under Attack [] TFP Megatron X Reader [] Discontinued

1 [] Starting Things Off With A Bang

CHAPTER 1
2ND POV
3 - 1 6 - 1 9
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   You were a simple person with simple interests. You liked watching the sunset at the Acid Wastes, long walks in the Iacon gardens, and sneaking into a slave auction to give Bots their freedom while your associates shot up the place.

   You put the palm of your servo to the keypad and short-circuited it. It slid open almost immediately.

   Depressed Cybertronians of all shapes and sizes packed the warehouse's backrooms. Showbots, minicons, constructicons, two-wheelers, you name 'em, they got 'em. They leaned against the dirtied silver walls hopelessly. They sat on unclean, puked on, cried on flooring.

   You'd seen the sight so many times before, Pits, you'd even lived it! You thought you'd get used to it, like you'd gotten used to the war, but the sight still managed to hit you hard in the spark.

Vent in, vent out. Time to move on with your thoughts.

   Next to nobody looked in your direction. They assumed you were just another trafficker here to usher a select few to the stage. Some froze up, maybe assuming you were going to take a "test run", if you catch my drift. You would make sure they never had to feel as helpless as they did then ever again. You swore on the AllSpark.

"The Ghost is here," you said quietly.

Heads whipped towards you. Ghost, your alias. You disappeared like one. A v-shaped visor covered your sympathetic optics. You stepped to the side to reveal your associates, Crackle, a young newbie, and Scalpel, an aged, experienced bot. The three of you went around and unlocked the captives' binds. You'd done it so many times you set a record for how many bonds you could break per minute.

   Bang bang bang!

   Believe it or not, the gunshots were a good thing. The yells and screams that resulted told you that things were going well on their end. It brought back memories, though they weren't happy ones. You blocked it all out and focused on the task at hand.

   Despite it sounding like an act of tyranny, the method they used was necessary. Peace through tyranny wasn't a phrase you liked to use, but when it case to bot traffickers, it tended to run through your helm. People like them didn't enslave others with kindness. They did it for money, for free services and labor. You'd tried stopping them with words and pacifism, but it grew tiring quickly. It's rather difficult to convince an audience that doesn't want to listen. 

There was a slim mech with his bonds still on, shaking in fear. His optics dashed around the room. You briefly wondered if he was paranoid that you would all be discovered. There was always quite a few of these types. You spotted him and kneeled before him.

"Hey," you whispered soothingly, placing a comforting servo on his shoulder, "it's gonna be alright." In the blink of an optic, his cuffs fell to the floor with a clank. You offered him a servo and helped him up before looking around.

Scalpel let out a low whistle. That told you and Crackle that everyone was free. You rolled through the door first, using the wheels on your pedes like skates, and motioned your arm for the bots to follow. Your associates stayed behind made sure that everyone left the room.

There were three other rooms full of prisoners. They filed out with their three saviors, colleagues of yours, and grouped with you. You were acknowledged with nods from your 'subordinates' (you were never much for that word, Megatron had tainted it). You were their leader, after all.