Chapter 18: The Extraction

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As night began to set in, Megatron and Orion made their way into a crowded plaza. When the bots spotted them, everyone began to cheer.

Megatron waved and Orion died inside.

A group of four mechs approached them and the crowd went back to partying.

"Excuse me, we were wondering about the rations. They've been getting low and Iacon is cutting off all trade into Kaon and Hailso." One of the mechs said, frowning worriedly.

Megatron smiled, "My friend, Orion, will answer all of your questions. Be right back."

Orion stammered, his optics widening as Megatron abandoned him. The four mechs turned to Orion expectantly.

"Well, uh, um," Orion swallowed hard, "how exactly is Iacon cutting off the trade networks?"

"The blockade, "the mech stated, as if it were obvious. "Nobody can get out of Kaon or Hailso and many traders don't want to come in. It's a one-way trip."

Orion furrowed his brows, "Maybe, we could try and bride the guards–"

"With what money? The credits we have are low enough and we need to them get energon."

Orion sighed, "Have you tried getting in touch with bots from Vos? They can bring energon in over the Sea of Rust."

A different mech scoffed in outrage, "You think we would associate ourselves with bots from Vos!? Those entitled seekers are the scraplets of Cybertron!"

Crossing his arms, Orion gave the mech a look, "You're associating yourself with an Iaconian right now. How much harder could it be to ask traders in Vos for help?"

There was a pause, and the mechs looked at each other, as if considering it.

"We will... try," the first mech spoke up again. "Thank you, Orion."

He smiled, "Anytime."

As the mechs disappeared back into the crowd, Megatron reappeared, holding two energon cubes.

"Megatron!" Orion glared, "You left me!"

"I was doing something important!" Megatron excused, holding up the cubes. "And besides, you had it covered."

Orion rolled his optics and took one of the cubes, "You coward."

Megatron glared back.

Orion lifted up the energon, but paused when he realized it was a little too bright. Was this... high grade? He looked up sharply.

"Megatron!" Orion barked, "Are you trying to drug me!?"

The former gladiator laughed, "It's a celebration, Orion, what did you expect? Low grade for sparklings?"

Orion huffed, "I'm not drinking this."

"Who is the coward now?" Megatron inquired.

Orion scowled, "Statistically, high grade is the number two cause of crashes, with number one being bots talking to each other. And you know that bots who drink often become dependent, their bodies requiring the overly synthesized fuel to function and thus putting them in a volatile state of drun–"

"Orion." Megatron rolled his optics, "I've had high-grade tons of times and I'm fine."

"That's what you think," Orion narrowed his optics, "but in a few years at most, you'll be facing dire consequences for your addiction. You could even have moved on to something worse, like- like space crack."

"Addiction?" Megatron scoffed, "Space crack?"

Orion set the high grade down, "For someone who prides themself in being tough, you shouldn't be allowing yourself to fall into the false lull of something as dangerous as high grade."

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