Chapter Text
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Megatron stood among clouds and watched the sunset. It was calm and good. He didn’t think how he got here and why, he just watched the sun go down, beautifully illuminating the clouds, life boiling far below him in the huge city...
“Are you willing to risk your life for those who despise you and want you dead?”
“Traitor! You betrayed us all...”
“…and in the end you will end up where you started. Think if it was worth it.”
“At least I'll die a Decepticon.”
“Why change sides? Who are you now?”
“A lost spark...”
“I’m still on your side, Lord Megatron…”
“It's not about you, it's about our people. They need you, Megatronus...”
“...go down into the Cybertron’s core...”
“Megatron Ambus... Sounds cool if you ask me!”
“The question is not about regrets, but about what was the reason.”
“Optimus, no! Do not do that!!!”
“Let your spark be given to another, our connection will live... in memories...”
“At this point only the Matrix doesn’t let his spark fade away... As if Megatron himself refuses to regain consciousness.”
“Come on, co-captain! You are a Point One Percenter, you are a Prime! You guys are strong... Wake up, you hear me?! Don't you dare to leave us! We cannot lose you too...”
“Fool’s energon has nothing to do with it. It was you... you were always in control. Without even knowing it.”
“Come back to us, Megatron... come back to me...”
“Minimus...”
These voices, including his own... They are familiar... But also are so far away... Whatever happens where they come from, it doesn’t concern him. Here and now there is only serenity and peace.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Suddenly came from behind. Megatron was dumbfounded, for a moment it seemed as if all his internal systems had ceased to function. This voice... No, it can't be...
He turned slowly, barely suppressing an exclamation of surprise. A large, red and gray Manual Class mech stood ten feet away. Megatron’s height, outwardly also very similar to him, massive armor with yellow-black stripes, two searchlights on his helm... Shocked Menatron reset his optics several times and cautiously took a step back.
“Terminus...”
“Haven’t forgotten your old friend,” the miner opened up his servos in greeting, inviting to embrace in a friendly way, but the Decepticon leader didn’t move.
“You can't be here...”
“Here...” Terminus repeated the last word, looked around and specified with a hint: “And here is where? Do you know where we are and how we got to this place?”
“No… I don't…” Megatron rubbed his faceplates. He tried to remember, but couldn't. Images and thoughts eluded him. However, something has happened... something very important. Just... what exactly?
“And I don’t know either,” the comrade from the past suddenly agreed, “but if so, why shouldn't I be here just like you?”
“Yep,” Megatron was in no hurry to agree.
“You still doubt my words,” Terminus put servos on his belt and nodded knowingly several times, “you have always been much smarter than they initially thought you were. It was too late to realize what spark they missed. You weren't supposed to be among us.”
Megatron looked away. What to say now. He shouldn't have... Yes, no one should have lived like this... This is what he originally tried to convey to society with his writings. And what in response... what in the end...
A prison cell appeared in memory, radiators in the ceiling, his frame felt like shrinking, then the unknown appeared... So that's it? Is it over? I didn't even understand how... If all this is true, then there is no need to be afraid. Although... what's next? Where is Unicron, who would drag him into his dark world of horror and suffering. Probably it will appear soon.
“So this... and you... Is that all not real?" Megatron jerked his helm and looked around, circling everything around with trembling servos. “This is all... This...”
“You are not dead, if that’s what you mean,” Terminus interrupted him, from what the Decepticon fell silent in mid-sentence, “do not rush into the Well of Sparks, my friend, there is an important mission ahead to save our race. Finding the Knights is just the first step.”
“Knights?” Megatron frowned, suddenly memories began to roll over him one by one. A task after which everything will be decided what will happen to the Decepticons and to him personally. He asked Optimus himself, and Prime allowed...
“Do not turn away from the intended goal, and everything will work out.”
Megatron shook his helm.
“You think so? They hate me. How can we even be a team... It was a stupid idea. What do I do?”
“Show them that you and them are on the same side, become for them a leader whom they will respect. It’s not easy, but if you don’t do it, you’ll fail everything at all.”
Megatron was just about to ask a question, but the sun creeping beyond the horizon suddenly flashes brightly, and Terminus’s figure dissolves into a stream of tiny blue sparks.
“No! Wait!” Megatron lunged for him, but the flash blinded him completely. He just had to closed his optics with servos and turned away.
“But I'll be there and guide you if you go astray.” His voice fades. “Follow your spark and remember, Megatron, you are not alone...”
“Terminus! Terminus, come back! No!”
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“No... Terminus...”
“He's coming to his senses," announced a voice to his left and a bit above.
Megatron abruptly opened his metal eyelids and found that the walls of some room had grown out of nowhere around him, and several painfully familiar mechs were leaning over him. Those whom he wouldn’t want to see.
“Calm down, kid,” the red and white medic said. He imperiously, but not painfully, pressed Megatron's shoulders, keeping him in a supine position, “do not make sudden movements, or you will fall into stasis again.”
Megatron’s eyepieces became round. He also liked that ‘kid’ thing , but compared to Ratchet, all in present could have been considered to sparklings by age. Wait... How did Ratchet get here?
“Do you recognize us?” the medic spoke again, of course not having heard the mute question. “Do you remember your name?”
“Megatron… Megatron of Tarn…” he managed, completely unaware of what was happening. Optics still malfunctioned, but gradually returned to normal. He felt exhausted, and at the same time, something life-giving was felt in his chest, right under the armor. It was pleasant and frightening at the same time. But attempts to scan his own frame didn’t give any suspicious results, except that HUD showed a low energy level: 23%, as well as a new flow of life-giving fluid entering his lines. An IV... Again? It happened before... Megatron turned off the HUD and again dimmed his optics, remaining motionless. The feeling was as if he had been released from a huge press.
“Memory is intact, good,” Ratchet stated and turned to someone outside of Megatron's view: “About an hour more, and we can go.”
“Cool! I’ll go on an excursion around the territory so far… ”the familiar voice of Rodimus exclaimed with obvious sarcasm, which made Megatron, still poorly aware, with difficulty suppress the urge to moan. And this one is here too... The Decepticon’s sensors detect presence of several more people near him, but it was difficult to determine. Still clutter...
“You and Prowl go back to the Citadel now, and we will all return by another transport,” sternly said the low baritone that belonged to his once enemy. To the former enemy? Where did he come from?
Megatron tried to at least raise himself, but his legs and arms didn’t obey, as if something was holding them.
“What…” the Decepticon managed to raise his helm and saw that his limbs were held by magnetic restrains. Although not immediately, he still recognized the prison medical bay...
“Quiet, lie still, “Ratchet appeared next to him again, “your condition is not stable yet, it was a necessary measure...” He coughed in embarrassment and looked away. “We didn't know what... the first reaction would be when you wake up.”
“What does all this mean?..” Megatron became very scared. “What did you do?..”
There was a bad silence, during which the Decepticon already managed to imagine what things the Autobots could do to him. He again diagnosed his frame’s condition, but found nothing suspicious except for a low percentage of energon. However, this silent pause led to bad thoughts. Suddenly, Optimus approached the slab, face hidden behind the battle mask as usual, and his attentive blue optics focused on the red ones drilling him with suspicion.
“We didn’t do anything, Megatron,” he began, as always, in a confident firm voice, “the security system failed, and it let to the suppression systems activation… You passed out and were brought here for medical care. But as it turned out, your systems were severely depleted from another long period of energy starvation. Try to remember...”
He tried... From the events of the last hours only some scraps remained in his memory: first Prime's visit, then emitters in the ceiling, vague figures... fall... green light of his own spark, warm blue-white light... Then he saw a long-dead comrade... That made no sense.
“And you? What are you doing here then?” Megatron from some side believed the Prime, but still, something didn’t work out in this story. Now he made out Ultra Magnus, Rodimus and Prowl standing at a distance. These five are a wow rescue team...
Rodimus just opened his mouth, obviously intending to sarcastically as usual, but Ultra Magnus, taking the red and yellow Autobot by the shoulders, easily lifted him and moved to the left, then came closer to the slab as well:
“We've come to get you from here. But there was a failure in the security systems.” His faceplate expressed sincere regret. “It was... It shouldn't have happened. Wish you didn’t have to go through this.”
Rodimus stood where the Magnus put him, and only gazed blankly with his optics. Prowl, catching his stunned look on himself, only spread the servos. Megatron tried to move again, clenched his fists, but said nothing. What for? They won't listen to him. But…
“If you promise to behave, I will release you," Ratchet promised unexpectedly. The surprised Decepticon reset his optics, and the doctor, pointing his left index finger at his chest, explained: “This means: do not attack, do not try to pull out the IV or disconnect the wires, lie still until the energon level reaches normal. Agreed?”
“Do I have a choice?” the Decepticon asked.
“Ratchet...” Prowl began uncertainly, but fell silent under the senior medic’s gaze, who had already turned to Megatron:
“Yes. And you know the options.”
Almost all the time in Autobots’ prison, the Decepticon received moctly conditions and threats in his address. He experienced this before, the good old pre-war days. However, Ratchet's voice was more of a familiar irritation than a desire to intimidate. Although Megatron is already scared, and now resigned to the situation. They will have to try harder to make him fear more...
“Then I promise,” the Decepticon said wearily, looking up at the ceiling.
For a moment a barely perceptible smile was reflected on Ratchet's lips... Or was it just seemed to Megatron? The medic walked over to the console on the right, pressed a series of buttons, and the magnetic restrains holding the Decepticon on the slab opened by themselves. Surprisingly, none of those present said another word.
“Thank you,” Megatron squeezed out, still aloof, but mentally he was grateful to the medic.
Megatron spent the next hour or so in the infirmary under Ratchet's care. Rodimus and Prowl left earlier at the behest of Optimus, and another transport was sent to pick up the others, including Megatron. They will go to the main Citadel of Iacon, the remaining time before the space expedition Megatron will live there, but not as a prisoner. This shocked him, to say the least. As well as sudden release ahead of schedule.
“You said tomorrow,” he remembered to Prime before Ratchet insisted that both the leader and Ultra Magnus go out the door and not make his patient even more nervous.
“Tomorrow or a few hours earlier... what's the difference?” he grinned, expecting that Megatron would smile too, but this didn’t happen. Then the Autobot leader simply nodded and announced that the transport would be here at the appointed time. And he left, not wanting to argue with Ratchet, although he so wanted to stay.
“Something has changed in him..." Megatron muttered to himself as the metal doors closed behind the red and blue transformer.
“What are you talking about?” Ratchet was somewhat surprised.
“I don’t know…” Megatron shook his helm. “Prime is not the same as he was a couple of hours ago I can’t detect anything, but... Something is not right.”
“It just seems to you,” the medic hastened to assure him, doing his best not to show concern. Megatron, although he doesn’t suspect, but already feels something... Sooner or later he will find out the truth, and then what can happen...
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The transport that arrived was very different from the vehicles Megatron had seen since he was back here. Those were large military shuttles, armored, with weapons... He was also taken to prison in one of these... and every time to a new court session as well. But the car waiting for them was not at all like that. An elongated streamlined frame, three small wings at the rear where the engine was located, darkened windows, shiny white metal reflecting the light of the lanterns and windows of the main prison building.
Beautiful, nobles had traveled on such transports before, Megatron noted to himself, it’s not for nothing that they say that everything new is well forgotten old. Megatron turned to look at the two heavily armored armed bots at the main entrance and glanced at the guard next to the transport. The last thing the Decepticon could have expected was that the mode of travel would be... like this.
It was already dark outside, only the last streaks of sunset were melting on the horizon. Megatron wiggled his cuffed wrists. A small blocker was also mounted in his back, which didn’t allow transforming. With his new fighter jet alt mode, Megatron could easily take off into the clouds... if he wanted to. But he didn't want anything anymore.
“Come on,” Optimus pointed towards the transport. The Decepticon complied. Why now and not in the morning? Is Prime afraid that this could happen again? On the other hand, it’s in their interests to get rid of him as soon as possible. Slag Prime, what kind of game are you playing?..
The doors of the transport opened by themselves, inviting to enter. The guard saluted... Prime or Magnus... maybe both... no difference. It was bright and clean inside, with two long seats facing each other, and there was still enough room between them. Luxurious... This is how you live, Autobots, Megatron thought bitterly, at Prime’s gesture getting into the transport first. Optimus took a seat to his left, Ultra Magnus was in front of him, and Ratchet next to the Magnus.
The doors closed almost silently, the engines rustled barely, and the car drove off. They were released through the large massive gate, Megatron still managed to notice the saluting guards, and the transport began to speed up. The speed was almost not felt, only the dark landscapes outside the window quickly replaced each other. It turns out that the prison was not in the city, but far beyond its borders. Megatron didn’t know this. When the next trial took place, he was taken out of the cell, escorted to a closed armored shuttle, then the trip, and released only in the courthouse. The Decepticon leaned wearily against the window, for he hadn’t seen the sky a very long time.
Optimus pressed some button on a panel in the wall, and a small table appeared right from the floor, then from Prime he pulled out four cubes of energon from the compartment in it and placed it in front of everyone, including himself. Megatron sensed this action with peripheral vision, but did not react in any way.
“How are you feeling?” Ratchet turned to him. In response there was only silence. “Megatron?” The medic called again. “I asked how are you feeling.”
“And is it important at all?” He responded wearily, still propping up the window with his helm.
“Yes, it is.” Ratchet's voice sounded louder and angrier.
The Decepticon straightened up and, staring gloomily at the medic, stated with the same indifference:
“Then everything is fine.”
“Yeah…” Judging by his intonation, Ratchet didn't believe him.
Megatron locked gaze with Ultra Magnus, the only one of the group who understood him in any way. The commander of the Autobot army was his lawyer, he could have refused, but he didn’t. Honor and honesty have always come first for this' Mech, and Megatron respected that.
After some time they reached the city. First, small buildings and factories appeared, then skyscrapers, well-groomed streets and crystal gardens... and passers-by followed too. There are also more speeders on the road. Megatron moved away from the window in fright, accidentally nearly pushing Optimus. It seemed to the Decepticon that either a stone or a plasma charge was about to fly into their transport. The crowd would shout and demand reprisals against him here and now. At least this scenario, according to Prowl and Rodimus, who often liked to scare him when they met, was possible. Megatron was not genuinely afraid of this, but the instincts of self-preservation had not yet completely left him.
“What’s wrong?” Alarmed Optimus put a servo on his shoulder, and Megatron immediately came to his senses, moved back to his corner and tried to pretend to be as calm as possible.
“Nothing, I… I was just thinking,” he assured.
“Iacon has changed a lot since... ceasefire,” Ultra Magnus suddenly spoke up. “This is one of the first cities to be rebuilt. There will also be others next in line. It's amazing that one could...”
Megatron heard what Magnus was saying, but he didn't listen to the meaning. Only caught that so far nothing has been said about his own Tarn city. He was mentally far away, he was replaying the events of the past, comparing the truth with what the Autobots said at the trial. Crimes against the species... Prime's refusal to discuss the reasons...
“…if you dispute any charges, the trial will drag on for centuries. The public demands to do it right - and I understand that, but I don't think it is in anyone's interest to exhume every detail of our war.”
Definitely not in yours. Megatron squinted at the Prime sitting to his left, but catching his gaze on himself, immediately turned away and stared out the window. He understands everything, the Autobots use the right of winners only because he gave up. Megatron could accept this if not the opponents shouted to left and right that they are fighting for justice. Yes, justice from their point of view. And let's forget the reason at all, people like us don’t have the right to speak. What did I fight for... what did I come to...
“If you want to change the world, start with yourself...”
Yes, a good idea. Megatron clenched his fists, a tremor involuntarily ran through his frame, from frustration and regret it was barely possible to hold back the washer fluid. Only not in front of them... Where to fall below... Shame. What happened to me? I wasn't like that... or was I? Once he dreamed of becoming a medic, helped others in the mines sharing his own energon with exhausted comrades and still had the strength to work... He wrote poetry and essays on various topics... Wanted equality for everyone. But when they are always hostile to you for your views on life, for your opinion, you involuntarily get used to it, you yourself become aggressive and cruel... Attack first, strike for sure, so that the enemy doesn’t get up... and no one dares even think to stab you in the back.
Although no, the Unicron’s traitor Starscream... so that his wings break and the turbines stall forever... Well settled, Senator, I hope you won't last long in your post. Although, knowing your love for power and inability to solve complex problems, your fall is guaranteed. Let's see which of us two deserves pity.
&Play the soundtrack while reading the next episode
Megatron didn’t understand how unnoticed they got to their destination. It seems like they were just driving down the street, and now the transport is already somewhere in a large underground parking lot, and Prime announces that they have arrived. How did he fall out of reality? What happened? One had only to distract from what was happening... and now...
Ratchet informed that Megatron had passed out on the way, and they decided not to wake him until they got there. The Decepticon immediately felt uncomfortable, but no one, surprisingly, began to judge him or laugh at him. Only the medic thoughtfully suggested that before Megatron go to his new quarters, it was best to first visit the Citadel's medical unitbay. They have better equipment and experienced staff. To which Megatron immediately refused, saying that this was not necessary.
“Okay, just rest for now,” Ratchet backed down, “but tomorrow, after the morning Energon, I'll be waiting for you in the Citadel's medical building. Some one of my colleagues will take you there.”
“I'll do it myself," Ultra Magnus suggested. Ratchet looked at the commander in disbelief and chuckled.
“Acceptable.”
“Excellent,” muttered Megatron, whom they didn’t consider necessary to ask about anything. The large blue and white Autobot took a magnetic key from the subspace and released the Desetpicon's servos, but the transformation blocker remained in place, of course. The Prime then told Megatron to go with him.
All four entered the elevator, the entrance to which was located here on the underground level, Magnus pressed two buttons, and then Ratchet pressed another one. It turned out that they just had to go out on different floors. First, the commander of the Cybertron troops left the elevator, then the grumpy old medic did, and then the last to leave on the right floor were Megatron and Optimus.
“Your quarters is on the same floor as mine,” the Prime told him as they walked down the wide, bright corridor. On the walls there were holographic pictures with projections of different landscapes, cities, portraits... The closed doors in the walls were also richly decorated. “There will be security at the entrance, let them know if you need anything. I promise no one will harm you anymore.”
I don't buy it, Megatron thought. He was very uncomfortable here, and this is only a corridor. It would be nice if they headed not to quarters as such, but just a prison cell, as before... But now he no longer knew what to think. All has changed... He couldn’t understand what it was, but now everything was different. As if you woke up at home with your loved ones, but potentially felt that these were not the same people, and that someone invisible was watching you. This is what Megatron felt, especially when he looked at the former enemy: Optimus is different from the one he was still today, he looks the same, the voice is the same, the appearance... But something is not right. And others now relate to the Decepticon himself... differently.
Seeing two armed black and white Autobots, almost as big as Magnus, only a head smaller in stature, near one of the doors Megatron knew that they had arrived. The guards saluted the Prime, the ruler of Cybertron entered a code on the panel to the right of the door, and the metal doors swung open, lights immediately turned on inside. Optimus stepped aside to let in the new guest, and Megatron walked in first. The leader of the Autobots followed, the doors closed behind him.
“Hope you feel comfortable here.” Optimus circled the space in front of them with his left servo.
The spacious luxury quarters consisted of several rooms: an entrance hall, a living room, a berthroom, and a wash rack. Everything was bright, clean, even richly decorated... There was an entrance to the balcony, all the windows were fenced off by force shields. Well, of course...
“I know you like to read,” when they were in the living room, Optimus went to one of the datashelves and ran his left servo over the datapads on one of them, “here are collected writings on different topics: science fiction, poetry, adventure...” He grinned: “You know, a lot of what you wrote is still kept in my personal collection.”
“Really?” Megatron narrowed his optics in disbelief, but the Prime nodded in confirmation of his words. And then the next question escaped the Decepticon’s vocalizer: “Why?”
“I like your works. Hopefully during this mission you will have inspiration to write something else.”
I'm not going to write anymore, Megatron wanted to say, but restrained himself. He didn’t have the strength to argue with the Prime, he wanted to be left alone as soon as possible, go into recharge, if possible... Therefore, the Decepticon just shrugged his shoulders:
“We’ll see what happens.”
“We’ll see,” Optimus didn’t argue. He went to the closet near the opposite wall and opened it: inside there were ten cubes of dirty pink liquid: “This is a new type of energon, the so-called Fool’s Energon, made specifically to suppress your power. This is necessary for the safety of others. The only kind of energon you can count on.” And, spreading both servos, concluded: “This is the condition, Megatron. The price of your freedom.”
“Fine,” the Decepticon agreed resignedly. Well, now it looks more like the Prime, the Victor. Only he again makes a reservation: what Optimus described doesn’t look very much like freedom.
“Your frame will function as it should. However, the spark power and physical strength will be suppressed. You won't be so quick and won't be able to fly fast. During the mission, the dose rate will be calculated by Ratchet, and he will also monitor your physical condition.
“I said: fine!” Megatron turned away, clenched his fists and shuddered. He didn't want... he shouldn't have raised his voice to the winner. Otherwise Optimus will change his mind. “I heard you, Prime,” he said more calmly, turning to the former enemy.
“Alright,” Optimus nodded, after a short pause. From the silver mech’s behavior was clear that it’s better to leave him alone now, so Prime nodded again and went to the exit. At the door, he stopped and turned back to Megatron: “Tomorrow morning Ratchet will examine you, after that you’ll have an appointment with the therapist named Rung. He is also a member of the Lost Light crew. Based on their conclusions, I can decide if you are ready to lead the mission.”
“And if their conclusions will be unsatisfactory?” clarified Megatron just in case.
Squinting, Optimus moved so close that the thansformers’ chest plates touched. Megatron hardly suppressed the desire to retreat, and Optimus barely restrained himself so as not to flinch: even though he is no longer a carrier of the Matrix of Leadership, the red-blue transformer from experience still managed to feel its energy in the Decepticon's chest. The Matrix has come to life again! From this Optimus felt both joyful and insulting at the same time. Megatron doesn’t even understand, at the moment he is not even able to appreciate this gift... And him? Why so? Not fair…
“Then we'll have to postpone the mission, that's all,” Optimus muttered through the compressed dentas. “But since this is in your best interests, I do not advise you to give them reasons for suspicion. Any more questions?”
Unable to withstand the contact of the optics, Megatron turned away, and the Prime took a step back. Even though now in this glance, he showed who is still in charge here. And without another word, Optimus was gone, leaving Megatron to study the new quarters alone. Three magnetic locks clicked in turn, and everything went quiet.
“U-huh…” Megatron shook his helm and, putting servos on his belt, kicked the air. Medics again... How he doesn’t like them... And once he dreamed of being one. I could go to study, if not for the Unicron damn class system. So many missed opportunities just because someone made a classification error. A Point One Percenter was not supposed to be a miner, but when the truth turned out, Megatron refused, fled, speaking before in defense of the Working Class, he thought that agreeing to Senator Shockwave's proposal would be a betrayal of his friends. But I could have acted differently: agree, find supporters in the High ranks and stand for the interests of the Manual class mechs already at the official level, according to the law. Shockwave could help... And maybe Megatron himself could have saved the senator from the terrible fate...
And he could also become a medic, fulfill his dream...
“What's done is done. Accept this fact and move on.”
“Sounds simple as turning on the light,” Megatron chuckled in time to his inner voice.
He once again he walked through the compartments of his new quarters, in which some noble should have lived. In part, he himself was such by origin. A Point One Percenter in cold-constructed body... A hybrid... A forged spark and a cold-constructed frame. Chosen and forgotten, a symbol of hope and a lost one. Megatron hated himself for his own origin, was afraid of the color and power of his own spark, didn’t like it when someone called him a Point One Percenter aloud. For another, this could be a grace, for Megatron – it’s like a stigma, as if the Primus himself turned away from him from the very beginning.
“You had to see all aspects of that society’s life and how imperfect the system was.”
Shaking his helm, Megatron went to the closet where the cubes of this strange substance called Fool’s Energon were. He took one, opened it, took a sip... His olfactory sensor didn’t catch anything suspicious, but the taste... Megatron grimaced and almost threw the cube on the floor, but changed his mind in time: he closed it and put it back. The feeling was as if used lubricant was added to a normal Energon. Not that Megatron had ever tasted this, no-no, he just imagined how it might feel.
Then he went out onto the balcony surrounded, just like the windows, by a force barrier, behind which the night Iacon was visible. High enough. He didn’t even see what the new Citadel looks like... Some of the Senate live here, and also working political meetings go. Megatron had no doubts that he would still cross paths with the former SIC. If he had known how things would turn out, he would never have accepted the Starscream of Voss into his ranks. Terminus taught Megatron not to get attached... Sometimes he succeeded. But all the same, among the Decepticons there are still those whom he could call if not friends, but at least a special circle of confidants. Starscream was originally one of them.
Terminus... How many vorns have passed... One of the miners, erased from history, once Megatron’s good friend and even mentor. To see him, though in a dream, was extremely unexpected, and, nevertheless, pleasant. Only now Megatron realised how he missed the old comrade...
&Play the soundtrack while reading the next episode
“Where are we going?” Megatron whispered as he followed his friend through the dimly lit tunnel.
“Hush,” he turned back and again waved to go further, “you will see. I want to show you something. The main thing is that the guards don’t hear. And almost no one just goes to this part of the mines.”
“Terminus, you're scaring me.”
“Yes well, I myself was scared at first, as I found out, but in a good way.”
Megatron didn't understand at all. To him, the concepts of ‘good way’ and ‘fear’ somehow didn’t fit together.
Finally, the cave expanded, Terminus dragged him behind a pile of stones and, pulling on the servo, sat him on the ground, also sitting next to the mech. Megatron obeyed only out of surprise. Terminus put his digit to his lips once more and handed his friend a datapad extracted from the subspace, which Megatron took on reflexes.
“Check it out?”
“Where did you get it?” Megatron didn’t believe, at first deciding that Terminus wanted to show him a new acquisition.
“Not the point,” the second miner waved off and jabbed his digits at the datapad screen that Megatron was still holding. Every now and then, various information was displayed, the name ‘Megatron’, lines of his writings, as well as... forums where discussions were held.
“Your writings become popular. I told you, you’ll shake our society!”
“Hoooow...” Megatron couldn’t take his optics off the screen. The friend said that Megatron's writings are read, but... he didn’t think there could be so many readers...
“You write, I distribute. Everything is fair.” Terminus took the datapad from his shocked friend, optics beaming with delight. “We'll do it, Megs. We will make these slag nobles understand that we also have the right to speak for ourselves.”
Megatron smiled broadly. He personally wasn’t outgoing or courageous to actively express his point of view in words, but in writing he did it quite well. Terminus was engaged in publications and PR, but how... Although it’s not very important, the main thing is that he has succeeded. They have succeeded. All this is somehow too... good, albeit dangerous, for he wrote out of stupidity without hiding his real name. Maybe he should have.
“How great it would be if someone else from the nobles would support us as well...”
“Megs...”
“Huh?”
Terminus looked at him with obvious reproach.
“Well, that’s too much: honorable nobles, those who would intercede for us, simple workers, simply do not exist. In any case, I personally haven’t met at least one. And you?”
“Me neither,” the writer admitted sadly. “It's just pipe dreams.” He put his arms around his knees. Terminus is right, the well-fed will not understand the hungry, as they say, and this elite has a lot of its own worries, they have no time to pay attention on some miners. And yet... “Thank you, Terminus... Thank you for everything you do.”
“Well, what else are friends for?”
&Play the soundtrack while reading the next episode
Megatron smiled sadly. This was their seventh orbital cycle on Messantine. Half of a vorn before he almost had become a Shadowplay victim. Mnemosurgery… Megatron shuddered. He will never forget grinning Trepan, his voice, his look... For the desire to express his point of view, he was almost turned into a weak-willed drone.
The door lock snapped, then magnetic locks opened one by one, and someone walked in. The guest didn’t hide his presence, and the Decepticon immediately recognized this EM field.
“Megatron?” Called the voice of Ultra Magnus. “Are you there?”
With a sigh, he stepped from the balcony into the living room and met the visitor face to face. Immediately wanted to grin: here he is, an honorable noble, a rare representative of his kind.
“And where else can I be,” Megatron spread servos to the sides. “Where am left, there I stay. What can I do for you, Ultra Magnus?”
“You can call me by name,” allowed the blue and white Autobot, “in an informal setting, titles are not needed.”
And, nevertheless, very few people were allowed to call the commander of the Cybertron’s troops by name. And even more so, Megatron didn’t think that he could address to Prime's assistant like this again. This armor is only a strict, majestic mask, behind it hides a completely different mech with a kind spark.
“As you say, Minimus,” he surrendered. "So... what happened?"
“I brought you something,” Magnus handed him the datapad, “here is all the basic information regarding our future mission: the composition of the crew, the description of the ship, the upcoming route... In general, everything that you, as a future captain, should know on this stage. Optimus will tell you more at the briefing the day after tomorrow. Then you will meet the team personally. Many already know who will be... the ship’s second captain.”
“Rodimus blabbed?”
“Not without it…”
“I see,” Megatron skimmed through the list of members of the expedition, where he himself had already been included, lingering at the image of one mech. Drift... once his loyal follower, bearing the pseudonym Deadlock. A defector... One of those who left their faction. To deal with such ones the Decepticon Justice Division was created. And now Megatron is what... potentially one of them? Great.
“Optimus himself wanted to bring this to you, but it seemed to me...” He coughed somehow uncertainly, “it seemed... that you don’t really want to talk to him.”
I do not want to talk to anyone. You all are too ‘right’, and for you I am someone and something that doesn’t deserve the right to speak for myself.
“Thank you, I'll study it tonight.” Megatron put the data pad on the desktop.
“You’re supposed to rest at night,” Magnus said instructively, styling himself like the eternally disgruntled Ratchet. “You need it especially now. How do you feel?”
“I can and will fulfill my duties,” Megatron went to the window blocked by the force field.
“That's not what I asked,” came with a hint at his back.
“It's okay,” Megatron turned to him. “I've gotten a lot worse in the past, so don't worry.”
Another moment of awkward silence. Magnus knew from the intensity of the interlocutor's field that it was time to leave. He would like to stay, but couldn’t come up with a good reason, and even now it would not be very right to tire Megatron, who knows how great the Matrix’s influence is.
“Well... see you tomorrow then?" He asked uncertainly in a tone completely inappropriate for his title. Then, without waiting for an answer, nodded and headed for the exit. This is Minimus Ambus: a fair and confident commander, at the same time a polite and kind person.
An idea suddenly occurred to Megatron. This may be one of the rare cases when they are alone, he needs to take this opportunity...
“Minimus,” he called, following Magnus into the hallway.
“Yes?” the blue and white mech immediately turned around. Megatron stopped in the passage connecting the living room and the corridor: there was simply no point in coming closer.
“I... I didn't have a chance to thank you for... Well, for being my lawyer. You could well refuse.”
“In theory,” he agreed.
“Why didn't you?”
“Because I couldn’t otherwise,” Ultra Magnus himself approached the Decepticon at the distance of an extended arm. “Megatron, someone else might just not give you a chance. And I had to try.”
“Thank you.” The silver mech averted his confused gaze. “Thank you for being… the way you are. I'm... glad we're going on this mission together.”
Ultra Magnus's right servo jerked slightly: he wanted to touch Megatron's shoulder, wanted to slide over his arm... But what would that mean? He probably would have recoiled. No, it's way too early. Later, when Megatron can trust him, and when Ultra Magnus himself can trust Megatron. There will be another time... He doesn’t want to miss this opportunity anymore.
“Likewise,” the commander of the Cybertron troops smiled slightly. “See you tomorrow, Megatron… Good night.”
“Same to you,” the silver mech squeezed out.
The Magnus left, and the doors clicked again with three locks behind him. Megatron went out onto the balcony again, all wondering: what just happened? They all behave in a strange way. Did their conscience awaken as well? Unlikely. It's just Minimus, unlike Optimus, he remained the same honorable person. Perhaps there really will be at least someone on the ship, who won’t stab him in the back, who can be trusted at least a little.
Back in the living room, Megatron sat down at his desk and began reviewing the data Ultra Magnus had brought to him. This may be his last chance to somehow justify not only himself, but also those who once trusted him. That's the main thing. And it doesn't matter what will happen to him later.
Soundtracks (with chapter episodes):
1) Interstellar OST - Our World; (vision, Megatron meets Terminus)
2) Mass Effect 3 OST - Squad Selection; (awakening)
3) X-Men: First Class OST - Rage And Serenity; (road to the Citadel)
4) The Theory of Everything OST - A Spacetime Singularity; (Optimus escorts Megatron to the quarters)
5) Limbo OST - Machine Gun Tranquility; (Megatron and Terminus in the past)
6) San Andreas 2015 OST - Divorce Papers; (Ultra Magnus’s visit)