[The feed opens up, showing what looks to be a rough-draft edition of the Jackhammer. Or at least the top of it, anyway. An odd place to have a video post... although it's probably obvious who this is from, now. A little ways away is Wheeljack, propped up on one of the metal sheets of the ship, inspecting his swords. He seems almost...completely engrossed in them, to the point of where this might be an accidental video.
Oh wait, he flicks his eyes towards it once, then back down. This broadcast seems entirely on purpose. It takes a few minutes for him to respond, biting his lip before making an attempt to speak.]
So. With the Police Force up and runnin' the way it should be, forming it's own little clubhouse, I think it's time to make another proposition for ya guys. Ones who may or may not exactly like following rules.
I'm looking for bots, or even some of you organic types to form a team of Wreckers. We had a group here, but all...or most of em are gone. Don't know what a Wrecker is? Here's the rundown for ya: Black Ops. Guys who take missions that no sane commander will take. The ones who aren't afraid to get their hands dirty. We work outside the chain of command, meanin' you're under MY command, not the Police Force or Law Committee.
[He rolls his eyes. This part got him in trouble last time, so he'll post a disclaimer.]
For all you angels of the law, I'm not goin' on manhunts for no reason. So calm your tailpipes before you even start with me.
[And he's back to inspecting his sword, perking an eyebrow.]
I hate paperwork, so just convince me if you think you're good enough. In a spar. I ain't jokin' around this time.
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