Elita One had been warned that the pair had come from a pool of gladiators that had been captured. She also had been warned that they were of that rare class of mechs formed when a spark splintered during framing.
The newly designated recruiter stepped into the detainment room anyway, and gave each one a solidly appraising look. "Sunstreaker?" The red one looked at the yellow one, betraying which was which. "And Sideswipe?" she inquired, looking at the helpful one. He nodded, a little tensely as his brother glared at him. "I heard you both really wanted to fight. Care to take that offer up outside the arenas?"
"What do you mean?" It was Sideswipe who spoke, but then Elita One was gaining the idea that Sunstreaker was the quiet one, and all the danger that implied.
"Megatron appears to be raising an army. Certain individuals in the Senate feel that to leave ourselves strictly at the mercy of a rabble and an under-trained police force is an unwise thing. I am here, as their representative, to find strong people who know the system is broken, but are willing to fight for both the protection of the weak as well as for a better future."
"No joke?" Sideswipe asked, wary but eager.
"No joke." Her backer was adamant about the need for a force to be trained in secret.
"We're in," Sunstreaker finally said after a conference on frequencies between the pair. "You're wrong… you won't like it."
Elita One held his optics for a long moment, unafraid, and blazing in confidence. "If I'm wrong, it will only be because Megatron undoes himself."