Chapter Text

Written by Nemesis Scar and Stonecrusher

Deep within the galaxy we know, there are many worlds where technology has overrun nature and given rise to machines what are more or less as sentient as any organism. Lithone, Pheros, Gobotron, Mondas, Chapek, the names of a thousand planets affected by the Machine Singularity have been burned into the minds of a hundred-thousand civilizations. Cautionary tales born of a need to exercise restraint or to learn to treat machines with the respect of a true lifeform. But there is one machine-world so mysterious in its origin, so advanced, and so much like true biospheres that it broke the line between biological and technological.

This world is known as Cybertron, and although the people of the world proudly carry the title “Cybertronian,” there is another name much more ubiquitous, yet confined to whispers and worried messages – “Transformers.”

Cybertron is regarded well throughout the cosmos – much of their technological advancements have made it throughout the galaxy, benefitting the people of the greater community, and Cybertron itself serves as a major trading hub for many civilizations and alliances, between the Galvan Alliance, the Shadow Proclamation, the Solstar Order, and a hundred others.

But this was not always the case.

Once upon a time, in an age long ago, Cybertron was embroiled in a conflict with a rogue colony, an enemy of its own creation – Combatron, a world first colonized to produce warriors, that turned against its motherworld for its own selfish desires. The conflict raged across the galaxy, wiping out many innocent civilizations and giving the species a reputation that even a thousand aeons later remains, even in only small echoes of doubt.

Some say that Cybertron has grown above that, that they’ve aspired to become better.

Other, more pragmatic voices, worry that history is cyclical, and it only needs a little push to get the gears turning once more…

The blue of night shrouded the Celestial Spires and the High Council Pavilions. It was late, and decent folk had left the streets. From her perch on an abandoned balcony, a red fembot had a view that was both awe-inspiring and vertigo-inducing. To the east, she could see the Decagon, the ten-sided tower headquarters of the CDC. To the west was the Energon Pools, their waters (a rare thing on Cybertron) flowing. And to the immediate North was the domed Chamber of Ancients, her target.

Vaulting over the balcony railing and into the air before her, she felt her body’s internal systems shifting, her limbs retracting, her very shape changing until it transformed into her jet alt-mode. Her internal sensors reoriented themselves in an instant, and she blasted towards the Chamber in the distance. She was on a mission right now, and intent to see it fulfilled. To some, it would be an unforgivable blasphemy to even think of what she had in mind. To even contemplate this, to them, was treading on untold centuries of traditions. But Elita One had no time for the shouted condemnations of religious rabble-rousers. To her, justice was the highest calling. And justice would be dispensed in this hour.

Coming to a hover above the apex of the dome, she paused. A direct assault on the Chamber of Ancients was risky, but stealth was not exactly her forte. She shook these worries off just as fast as they presented themselves. Whatever foe she would face would fall before her. Whatever evil presented itself to her would be destroyed. Whatever resistance dared to stand in the way of her sacred mission would be dispatched, no matter the odds. She shifted once more into robot configuration, and she fell, landing on the dome’s outer rim. Her optical sensors looked through the window, sighting the gathering of cloaked individuals. These were the Council of Elders, an informal fraternal body of the planet’s best and brightest. Though she could not see the ‘mechs and femmes under the hoods, she knew for a fact that at least Sentius Baronus, Termagax, and Codexa were among their ranks. The Convoy stood amidst them, his orange armor immediately catching her eye. He was the target of this raid, and nobody else.

“And so ends our gathering for tonight,” Guard Convoy, the leader of Cybertron, spoke, although Elita only could understand due to her advanced lip-reading skills, “I thank you for joining me today.”
The cloaked figures parted, leaving for their own places. Elita kept a optic on Guard Convoy as he made his way to the back.
---
Guard Convoy soon exited the pavilion in a relatively isolated area, mostly lit only by the dim glow of the streetlights. He approached a nearby speeder transport, a form of transit mostly used by the rich and those too lazy to use their own alt mode… or at least, too important.

But before he could reach it, the lithe form of Elita landed in front of him, catching him off guard, grasping within her hands a small energy hammer.

“Guard Convoy,” She spoke, hammer high. “I have come to relieve you of the Matrix!” Her voice lowered to a venomous intonation “...You clearly have proven unfit for it.”

“By all means,” Guard Convoy sneered at her. Clearly, he was in no mood to give it up willingly to her. “Come, Elita.” He growled, unfolding his collapsible quarterstaff. “And take it.”

Leaping into action, Elita intended to do just that. With a mighty, savagely arcing swing of her hammer, she threw the Convoy off-balance. “Impressive.” He grunted as he doubled back in pain. “But you will be no match for the Elite Guard!”

The speeder’s doors popped open, allowing black-armored ‘mechs of a single, mass-produced body-type similar to that of the Autotroopers to emerge and surround her. Some wielded energo-foils, others bladed quarterstaffs. Others still held vibro-voulges. These were the Convoy’s Elite Guard, his praetorians and bodyguards. As one, the Elite Guard rushed forth to defend their master.

Elita ignored them. True, she ducked under a swing or two and retaliated with a few strikes of her own. But they were not her focus. Their master was behind them, and she had to go through them to get to him.

“Get out of my way!” Crying out in a loud voice, she thrust her shoulder forward and charged through the mass of the Elite Guard attempting to block her way.

The Elite Guard tumbled every which way, flying to the ground before her. Some took harder falls still, cracking their heads on the hard metal floor. They were dealt with as quickly as they had appeared.

Guard Convoy stood in front of her, stunned. “T-the E-elite Guard!” He spoke in a tremulous voice. “How could they be defeated?” The Convoy clearly didn’t expect this outcome.

“I win.” Thrusting an open hand forward amidst the fallen Elite Guard, Elita clearly expected the Matrix. The Convoy, for his part, was grudgingly opening his chest. He had no chance against her one-on-one. “Give it up.”

“Fine,” He sighed, his frametype reverting to the form he had before attaining. “But this isn’t the end of this, Elita.”

“I have no misconceptions of that,” Elita replied, tapping his head with just enough strength to force the former Convoy into Stasis Lock.

Free of witnesses, Elita transformed and jetted off into the night…

Chapter Text

A few years later, and the Cybertronian Commonwealth is a different place. The loss of the Matrix from the hands of Guard Convoy has led to a great degree of government instability. This has led to bureaucratic confusion on a massive scale, allowing political movements with goals that run counter to the common good to begin getting a foothold, some even gaining the ear of the once Convoy, now titled Sentinel Prime. According to the official stories, the Matrix had chosen to leave Guard Convoy, for his great deed has been done and the Matrix’s wisdom was no longer necessary. But the smart bots among the populous knew better.

One such political power that now held Cybertron under its thrall was the Omnicon Corporation of the distant colony of Messatine. A ice world dedicated to the mining of the life-giving Energon crystals and starship-fueling Nucleon prisms, Messatine was probably the biggest source of fuel within the Cybertronian Commonweath, with no other colony able to match its output. Some say this came at the cost of lives, and some authorities had been chomping at the bit to knock the colony down a peg.

The mine that had exploded was a good reason, but at the same time, the tragedy of it all still stung. None more so then the investigator sent by the Senate, Commander Checkpoint.

“No way we’re able to investigate this mine, sir,” A nearby Autotrooper drone stated, “Energon radiation is too intense.”

Indeed, one of the major mines that Messatine used in its operations had, for one reason or another, had a terrible accident – a massive explosion that ripped through the Energon veins and ignited the little Nucleon that remained. The resulting energon radiation could overwhelm a Cybertronian’s circuitry and cause a shutdown. How such a thing could have happened is a question with a large number of potential answers – lackluster miner hit a vein of energon the wrong way, demolition attempt gone horribly awry, thunderstorm hitting exposed crystals… but in the back of Checkpoint’s mind, one possibility remained at large – one miner got tired of his lot in life and decided to kneecap Messatine’s output by deliberately destroying the mine.
This was an idea Checkpoint decided to keep to himself.

“How many survivors are there, right now?” Checkpoint asked.

“We’re currently aware of twenty-five miners that escaped the initial detonation,” The Autotrooper replied, “Including Foreman Rolt. They were lucky to be near the entrance and able to escape before the explosion overwhelmed them. Most of them are still suffering from Energon Burns, though.”

“Which means we have to wait until someone heals up before we can make inquiries,” Checkpoint squeezed the ridge of metal between his twin optic sensors with his servo-fingertips, “Which can be anywhere between three days and three months.”

“Sir…” the Autotrooper pointed, “We appear to have another bot on the scene.”

Checkpoint looked up. Indeed, there was another bot on the scene – a copter-bot by the looks of things. A very damaged copterbot.

“Vector Sigma!” Checkpoint shouted, uttering the name of a mythical database in disbelief, as the damaged copterbot made its way over to them, “Get a medic over here!”

The copterbot walked over to their direction with a surprising amount of haste in spite of their own damaged structure.

As they made their way to Checkpoint, their vocoder managed to choke out three words…

“Damn… you…Mega…”

And with that, the bot fell to their knees, then face planted into the snow-covered ground, their armor losing what little color remained…

---

But not every individual within the Cybertronian Commonwealth was fully embroiled in the political games nor were they interested in being so. Among them, thousands of lightyears away from the burning mine of Messatine, one was just stirring. A red-and-blue hauler-bot with a thin design, the biggest part of him being the twin wheels that jutted from his backplates just behind his shoulders.

Although he was among the elite of Iacon and was thus allowed a luxurious apartment that was cleaned daily by the service droids that zipped in and out of unoccupied spaces, he still found that the relative size of his movement area seems to fluctuate between big and small, due to the number of trinkets and solid history records he kept around… and also, his 'rent assistants,' or 'roommates' as they preferred.

His audials picked up the movement of one of these roommates, his heavy feet clunking on the ground unsteady in their movement and wavy in their conviction.

"Guess who was at one hell of a party~," he heard one down the hall.

"Let me guess, Dionysis?" the red one guessed.

"Yeah, you got it, Orion," the voice replied before a clunk noise signaled to the hauler that this Dionysis had passed out. Again.

The Hauler, Orion, emerged from his sleeping quarters to find Dionysis, an orange speeder-bot who he towered over, lying on the couch.

"Dion, we have talked about this," Orion shook his head, "You need to get back to your room if you want a proper recharge."

"You can't tell me what to do," Dionysis (Dion for short) murmured, "You're not my dad…"

Orion rolled his optics, "Dion, you're constructed cold. You don't even HAVE a dad."

"Whatever…"

Orion looked around, seeing no sign of the other roommate. Likely having already left for their own duties. What he did see was the chronometer reading 0830 hours since the start of the day - when Orion should be leaving for his job.

"Alright, I'm off to work, don't oversleep and miss your shift again," Orion announced as he departed, hearing Dion's faint "I won't" as he exited the room.
---

Meanwhile, on Messatine, a pair of cyan optics scanned the files in front of him with an ever-growing dread.

[MINE 132 – DESTROYED BEYOND REPAIR.
CALCULATED ENERGON SALVAGE – NIL
CASUALTIES – 1341 MINERS, 7 SUPERVISORS, 1 INVESTIGATOR
ENERGON RADIATION LEVELS – 450% ABOVE LETHAL LEVELS.]

“This is a major tragedy,” the optics’ owner, a light-blue and dark-red mech who was the top of the Omnicon Corporation, going by the name Boreus, noted.

“On that, we can agree,” Checkpoint noted, “But at the same time, this could be a good first step for you.”

“Is that right?” Boreus asked, “How?”

“Well, with what we can gather from the information downloaded from what little remained of the central computers, most of the Miners here were identified by ID Codes rather than true names.”

“That’s a matter of pragmatism,” Boreus pointed out, “Trying to remember a thousand names is a major investment even with a computer. Ergo, we prefer to keep our computer space free for more imperative calculations by keeping ID codes. If the miners prefer to have names of their own, that is their choice.”

“I see,” Checkpoint looked at the datapad in his hand, “Nevertheless, Messatine’s attracted some controversy due to some recent files that have made their way to Cybertron. Some files containing some information that’s… hard to swallow, to borrow an organic idiom.”

“I’ve heard,” Boreus replied, “And admittedly, a good portion of those files are, in fact, based on some facts. But nevertheless, we’re trying our best to improve the situation here.”

“Well, that may be the case, but some of the accusations could net you some hefty fines,” Checkpoint noted, “If you’re not careful, you could be thrown from your position to a lower one before the next vorn.”

“I know that,” Boreus sighed, “Just… feel free to look more into such data as you see fit.”

“…I understand, sir,” Checkpoint replied, his optics drifting over to a photo on Boreus’s desk, “Say, is that a relative of yours?”

“My Daughter. Chromia. She’s only been online thirteen stellarcycles, but she’s shaping up to be a potent leader,” Boreus noted, “She’s thinking of joining the military, but I’ll be sure to push her down the right path.”

“Yeah, I got a kid that age as well. I wanted to call him Checkpoint Jr, but my Conjux called him Prowl,” Checkpoint noted, “And he certainly lives up to the name.”

“I wish you the best of luck with the young one,” Boreus replied.

“Same to you,” Checkpoint turned and walked out of the office.

Boreus sighed. The fines were certainly too great to ignore, and he felt the need to blow some steam.

Opening up a holoscreen, Boreus booted up a stream to the Gladiatorial Arena on Messatine. Some might say it’s a barbaric excuse for the wealthy to keep the lowborns quiet, but Boreus took a simple delight to seeing people fight. Brutal, sure, but certainly worth watching…
Boreus’s optics narrowed. A new combatant was on the screen, currently taking on a Dinobot with a hammer and fairing poorly… but this bot looked familiar. A bodytype used by several miners… most prominently on Mine… no. It can’t be. He was stationed far enough in the mine that the explosion would have killed him…

But another look on that face, looking as desperate to win…

And Boreus KNEW.

“Computer, cancel all further appointments today,” Boreus spoke to the Central Control Computer.

<CANCELLED>

“Now… to finish what the mine apparently failed to do,” Boreus got up, exiting the office for what he failed to realize would be the final time.
---
As luxurious as a city like Iacon was, it still had minor problems - such as people crowding the street on their day to day business, forcing more polite bots like Orion to jump between the transport chutes and more conventional travel paths, but Orion had navigated this path many times before, and usually made good time, arriving at the Great Archive of Records and History, his workplace and the largest collection of information and history on the entirety of Cybertron, at 0855, less than ten minutes before his shift would begin.

"Ah, Good morning, Oron!" The mech sitting in the terminal at the front of the building greeted the archivist.

"It's Orion," Orion replied without delay.

"Alright, go on in," The mech tapped on the console and soon, the door opened, allowing Orion to enter, just as his shift began.

<WELCOME, ORION PAX,> Orion heard as the building's AI network tapped into his own headset, <How may I assist you today?>

"I'm just heading to the historical archive, I'll let you know if I need anything, GARHAI."

<Understood. However, I think I should alert you that Trion is waiting for you to drop in.>

This gave Orion pause. Alpha Trion was the highest commander of the Archives, a mech of many mysteries, said to be a member of the enigmatic Firstforged, the Thirteen Primes that gave Cybertron civilization. Of course, Orion knew from records he had seen that the story of the Firstforged was likely a corrupted myth with possible origins in the Quintesson Rebellion's leading council, but the sheer amount of time behind such a name still awed Orion regardless. Sharking his head back to reality, however, Orion made a quick beeline to Alpha Trion's office.

Which apparently meant a trapdoor in front of the official entrance, which took Orion by surprise. It seems that every time the two have to talk, Alpha had another tricky way to close the distance between the two, which lent itself well to the mysticism he had.

And the annoying streak he also had.
---
Boreus had made his way to the Arena complex mostly unguarded. Which suited him quite well. This was a move he had to make himself. Sneaking around was not exactly something he was used to, but nobody really was an expert at stealth in this day and age.

It took him twenty minutes before he finally found the former miner.

“Excavator D-16!” he announced to the mech in question.

Said mech turned.

Good. All the confirmation Boreus needed.
---

When Orion landed in his chair, it was with a loud clunk and a bit of an explosion of strange particles, and the sound of an old mech forcing air through his front mouth vent in a strange way. An organic would call it a coughing noise, but for machines like these, it was a relatively rare phenomenon.

"So!" Alpha Trion managed to say between coughs, "You did drop in, after all, Orion!"

Orion merely gave a blank (or more specifically an 'I am so done with you') look as Alpha laughed at his own little joke.

"So, been a while, Trion," Orion got up off his chair and dusted off the particle mist, making a mental note to visit his joint cleaner at break just to be safe, "Where were you again?"

"A rather crazy place, my friend," Alpha replied, "and I've been seeing concepts and ideas with a strange and pragmatic beauty."

Looking around, Orion saw pieces of flattened plant matter (paper, if he remembered the word right,) decorated with a variety of shapes and designs.

"The civilizations of Solus Tri have been busy. Busy busy busy," Alpha hummed, "Take a look at this device! They manage to take the most basic chemical function of the entire galaxy, and they turned it into a rapid transit system with a kind of interesting twist. They call it a Steam Locomotive! Ain't that quaint?"

"Quite…" Orion rolled his optics, "Is there any other reason you brought me here, rather than the discussion of whatever civilizations you took your vacation with?"

"Now, now, Orion, isn't a friendly chat between two fellows a good enough reason?" Alpha replied.

Orion shrugged, "Maybe for when I'm not clocked in. But on the job, I imagine another reason."

There always was. Some new records, some rediscovered history, SOMETHING.

"I guess you are right to believe so," Alpha Trion sighed, "Long story short - the government has decided to bring in some… new blood. Guards, if you will."

There it was. Orion knew how things were under Sentinel's rule - with the disappearance of the Matrix of Light, the mech once known as Guard Convoy had been forced to take on the name of Sentinel Prime, and the uncertainty of the time bred into this age a sense of… caution. Even fear of the many voices that were speaking out against an Advisor of the Convoys, a Prime, leading. But Orion was not going to let such fears cripple him. Wasn't his style.

"Understood, Trion, but shouldn't this be formally announced in a group meeting?"

"I suppose it should, Orion, but Sentinel has stated he doesn't want to impose too much. He's making the choice to ease the program in," Trion sighed again, "He's assigned you to be the, *ahem* primary guide of the first guard."

Orion's optics widened. The life of a mere archivist and a protest rocker was rather simple in observation, but on the inside it was a delicate balance he had to maintain - and although the title was merely a 'guide,' Orion knew deep down that this first guard was meant not to guard the archive, but to monitor him specifically.

"I see," Orion said after a long pause.

"Indeed," Trion replied.

"When is this… first guard coming in?"

"Should actually be this morning, in fact."

Damn, not enough time to prepare. And Orion never was good at improv.
---
Autotroopers in this day and age were mostly security bots. It suited their design, having once been soldiers, but there was a certain… boredom that came to the forefront on slow days like these at the Arena.

“Primus, this arena’s so dull in the off-hours,” one such Autotrooper noted, as he patrolled the hallways of Messatine’s Gladiatorial Arena, “Sometimes I wish I could find a dead body just so I can report in.”

One turn later, and he got his wish.

The body was deftly perforated with cold spears of ice, placed all over the body and ripping through the vital components. The Autotrooper had at least gotten used to finding the rusted bodies of miners having died where they stood as their energon reserves dried out, and the body he found was as grey as they always were...

But this was not a miner’s body.

This was someone else’s.

This was Boreus.
---
At the entrance of the building, the Cargo Transport that had landed not minutes before loomed quite obviously, shadowing the approach of the three bots that approached. The two bots in front were decorated in the signature black and white color palette that had been the Autotrooper's bread-and-butter (pardon the unusual idiom) since their introduction during the days of Ginrai Convoy and the Age of Invasion, but the frontmost, a young femme deco'ed in the signature yellow, black, and teal of the Achillian Defense Company, who carried herself with grace and yet seemed unsure of the situation.

"Miss Ariel," The Autotrooper to the left of the femme spoke up, "You never specified the plan you had in mind."

"Oh, no, I never had a plan in mind. It's a simple job of making sure nobody breaks into the archives and such," Ariel replied, "I'm thinking of just letting the chips fall where they may."

"Seems a bit unwise, Miss Ariel," The right Autotrooper replied.

"Maybe, but considering everything, it's probably the better plan to take."

As they entered the building, they were greeted by the tall and imposing form of Alpha Trion and a much shorter archivist (about Ariel's height, give or take a few inches) approaching them.

"Ah, you must be the new security guard that the officials over at Iacon Tower sent us," Alpha Trion replied, smiling warmly.

"Alpha Trion," Ariel replied with an equally warm smile, "Hello again."

"May I introduce Orion Pax, my senior Archivist," Alpha gestured to the Archivist next to him.

"Secondary Senior Archivist, actually," Orion replied, "Dynastron is the Primary-Senior, but it's good to meet you regardless."

"Nice to meet you too," Ariel replied.

"Well, you two have met, and so I must be off," Alpha Trion turned and walked off.

"Well, uh, let me show you around," Orion replied, trying to restrain his rising anxiety about the entire situation.

"Sounds lovely," Ariel replied, "Lead the way."

---

"This is where we keep all historical records of Cybertron's many ages, categorized by age, era, time-frame, in both chronological and alphabetical order…"

Ariel reviewed her mission, mentally. On the surface, it was merely to guard the archive, but a strong emphasis was placed on keeping an eye on this particular bot. This confused Ariel now that she was looking at him.

"This is where we keep a record of every Cybertronian, from the lowest of miner-bots to the highest of Convoys… though between you and me most of the minor bots are only a few paragraphs long…"

It was clear that he was little more than a glorified data clerk, nothing truly interesting for observation. But Guard C- Sentinel Prime had personally asked her to keep him in check and in safe.

"This is where we look through records of the cosmos and try to understand the rise and fall of different planetary civilizations through observations of orbit…"

Why still eluded her. Was he a person of interest due to his position? Or was it deeper than that?

"…And this is where we keep records of all mechafauna that have at some point roamed this planet."

In Ariel’s mind, the job made no sense. But she was hired for it, and she will do it to the best of her ability. That was her choice.

"Fascinating. So, you keep records of literally everything here?" Ariel asked.

"Well, not exactly, such a feat isn't feasible." Orion replied, "But regardless, we try our best at it."

"So, what does an archivist do on a typical day?" Ariel asked.

"Well, on a normal day like this, we look through the archives for any information that is either assigned to us or catches our optic for whatever reason," Orion noted, "Typically, we look through a holorecord, try to see if we can catch anything that seems anomalous, and we take note of it, try to see what patterns arise from our notes or the notes of any other archivist, and interpret how that new information impacts history."

"I see… and how do you look through a 'holo-record?' How does it work?"

"That's a complicated process," Orion replied, "You familiar with Simultronics?"

This alarmed Ariel, "Those ghastly things?"

"Well… essentially, our methods were built using similar technology, but tested, refined, and meant not to induce brain damage and escape, but rather understanding of the world and expansion of knowledge," Orion replied, "Although, strictly speaking, the Simultronic was based off a hastily hacked-together knock-off."

"I… see… I'm sorry about the… caution," Ariel replied.

"Don't be. The tech isn't very widespread, and very few people know about it, so it makes sense to be… a little afraid," Orion noted, "But really, it doesn't have any stronger effect apart from a mild lull in consciousness after use, but you experience that after recharge, anyway."

"So, it's like a dream," Ariel replied.

"In a way," Orion shrugged, "Anyway, now that I've given you the tour, I probably should be getting to work."

"Understood. I'll just be patrolling the archives," Ariel replied, turning to exit the room before looking over her shoulder, "Catch you later, I hope."

Orion waved her off, and as Ariel turned out of sight, he sighed.

He had planned to look into a record, but something about what Ariel said really bugged him now…
---
Ariel, having completed her tour of the archives, set up a communications terminal. Plugging in a few custom encryption keys so the pesky security protocols don’t archive her reports, she dials up the call.

“This is Ariel, reporting in,” Ariel was the first to speak.

“Ah, Ariel!” The familiar voice of her commanding officer, Praesidia Magna, spoke up, “How was your first day on the job?”

“A bit…” Ariel began, but soon found herself lacking a good adjective, so she came to a new sentence, “It was fine. But I found some information that worries me a bit.”

“Such as?”

“Apparently the record-keepers utilize technology similar to the Simultronics to check their historical archives. I am a bit perturbed by this,” Ariel confessed.

“We’ve known about the Simultronics’ origins for quite some time now, probably should have brought it up before you took the assignment,” Praesadia noted, “But all of us make mistakes.”

“I am aware of this fact,” Ariel noted, “and I am worried that this assignment may be a mistake as well. Orion doesn’t strike me as being… well, anyone more than a standard archivist.”

“We’ve had the same thought process too. But our prediction programs indicate that the one who took the Matrix will be searching for a suitable heir from the mid level jobs of Iacon, and his activities may attract her attention.”

“And how would they know that?” Ariel asked, “Or is that question not in my pay rate?”

“…Truth be told, the programs are a mystery to us too. What makes Orion Pax of any note is beyond us… but they chose him among the candidates,” Praesadia replied, “Best we check every possible area.”

“Understood,” Ariel replied, “I’ll report back when I have further information.”
---

<FLIGHT 405 to CYBERTRON, DEPARTING IN TEN MINUTES. PLEASE MAKE SURE ALL YOUR BELONGINGS ARE SECURE.>

Her eyes glanced around at the sparsely seated passengers. All high-ranking officials or mid-ranking officers of some variety. A flight to Cybertron was expensive, and she had actually intended to bring her former charge on a smaller, less expensive ship. Possibly to another colony like Caminus.

But after the business with Boreus, she now knew the mistake that bringing him outside of this icy sphere would be.

For everyone.

As the shuttle readied itself for departure, she couldn’t help but feel like she was walking into a trap of someone else’s making.

But part of her didn’t care.

She had been on the run ever since she took the Matrix from him. She pursued potential new holders, people she thought could be better.

They all failed, in one way or another.

Was it her inability to judge? Or was it the nature of sentient life?

Either way, as the shuttle left Messatine’s atmosphere and began the long warp to Cybertron, she hoped the next one would be the heir she seeked out…

Chapter Text

Checkpoint did not expect this in any way.

He had talked with Boreus only hours earlier, and here he was being asked to identify the body.

Autopsy reports revealed that the body had been pierced by icicles in enough vital components, and that whoever managed it did so with no hesitation. There was definitely a fight, judging by scratchmarks at the crime scene and what appeared to be an impression of a foot on Boreus’s face. But none of this gave Checkpoint answers.

And it didn’t make reporting in Boreus’s death to his sparkmate and children any easier. Even the youngest, a mere sparking that had only recently emerged, seemed distressed.

Death may be a natural thing, but talking about it never was easy.

“Boreus…” Checkpoint spoke to himself, “I’ll find whoever did this to you, and they won’t get away with it. I promise you this.”

And as Checkpoint left for the Spaceport, he saw a cruiser fly out, no doubt full of ordinary people unaware of the tragedy that had transpired in the House of Winter…

---

Half a galaxy away, in the Iacon Hall of Records, Orion packed his containment subspace and moved to depart… but before he could, he came across Ariel.

“Ah, Ariel,” Orion stated in a half-hearted greeting.

“Hello again,” Ariel replied back in a chipper fashion.

“How was your first day on the job?”

“Fairly uneventful, compared to what I’m used to at least.”

“Trust me, I can imagine a job as a guard in a glorified museum can get pretty boring. I mean, I basically have controlling stake here, and even I’m bored sometimes,” Orion replied.

“Pretty understandable…” Ariel replied, “You wanna go grab a drink?”

“Sorry, I’m not very social in my off-time,” Orion replied, “Being out in public can be quite draining for me.”

“Oh, I understand,” Ariel smiled, “Well, have a good rest of your day.”

“I’ll try,” Orion replied, walking out the door and shifting to alt mode, heading back to his quarters with only the dust behind him.

---

Orion opened the door to see Dion packing a backpack.

“Dion, what are you up to this time?”

“Oh now you wanna know what I do on the side,” Dion muttered.

“Eh?”

“Look, despite what anyone can tell you, being a dock worker isn’t exactly the most... fulfilling job out there,” Dion replied, “All you really do is move boxes off of docking ships and throw them into a warehouse until you can’t cram any more in.”

“I see, and where is this leading?”

“Well, a couple years ago, a bit after I moved in, I decided I needed to get more money and an occasional change in scenery,” Dion explained, “Then I came to learn of a really interesting little pastime most cities have that Iacon doesn’t really… play around with.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep,” Dion replied, “Basically, I zoom on over to Kaon to help them out with a… personnel industry.”

“You mean the Arenas?” Orion noted, remembering how the arenas were originally set up as training ground for the Combatron War, but these days were mostly used for sporting events. Kaon was infamous for being the first to allow Gladiatorial combat, although the rules there were pretty strict on the “no killing” policy.

“Yep,” Dion noted, “If you want, you can come by and see what I do exactly.”

“I’ll have to pass today,” Orion noted, “Long day at the hall of records and all. New member orientation and such.”

“New member orientation?” Dion asked.

“They’ve upped security over there and there’s some fresh blood as a result,” Orion noted, “Hopefully she grows to suit the role.”

“She? This new bot a femme?”

“Her gender’s irrelevant,” Orion pointed out, “If she does her job right, she’s okay.”

“Look, Orion, I think you should try forming some semblance of a friendship with her,” Dion replied, “Lord knows you need more friends.”

“You say that, but I’m a little suspicious of ulterior motives.”

“My ulterior motives are to get you out of the house more often than your job and the occasional supply run can provide you,” Dion noted, “That way you get more out of life then being a talking database.”

This gave Orion a bit of a laugh, and so he relented, “Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good,” Dion replied, “Now if you excuse me…”

Dion disappeared out the door, leaving Orion to his devices.

---

Chromia has never been in such hardship before. Sure, the military lifestyle she was eying for a while was certainly going to strain her, but the idea that her father, the head of her house, was not going to be there to see it… it didn’t feel too great.

Her mother, a femme with an imposing presence who most knew as Cryus, was even more torn up about it. To an outsider, this may seem to be not the case, but Chromia knew how to read her face.

“Chromia… Proteus…” she spoke at last, “Your father intended you two to pursue your own paths when you were older… but sometimes, the world dictates that you have to grow up quicker then you should.”

“Mother…” Chromia began.

“However… I do not want her to suffer the same fate,” Cryus' eyes moved down to the sparkling on the floor, “Tough times are ahead, and she shouldn’t have to grow up in those times.”

Chromia knew immediately what she intended. Locking a sparking in Stasis lock for a few years has often been seen as a form of rejection… but Chromia knew that when her mother would make such a decision, it would be entirely because she wanted nothing but the best for her children.

“Cogman,” she spoke, addressing a butlerbot who had been standing in the room.

“Yes, my lady?”

“I wish you to take Snowflake to the stasis pod. Make sure she’s tucked in, and has a nice, long nap.”

“…I understand, milady,” Cogman replied, his tone somber, and he moved to take the child.

“Wait,” Chromia spoke up at last, “I’ll do it.”

“You will, Lady Chromia?” Cogman addressed her, “I don’t want to put unneeded pressure on you…”

“I know,” Chromia replied, “But I feel like her last sight before she sleeps should be someone who cares for her as a family member.”

“…That can apply for both of us,” Cogman replied, “But I understand.”

---

As she placed the Sparkling into the stasis pod, the peeps and gurgles of the small mass of nanites looked back at her, with those big beautiful optics… it was a little overwhelming.

“Now, you are going to take a nice sleep,” Chromia spoke to her, “Everything you have will remain as you know it… and when the dust settles, and everything is fine… we’re going to be a family again.”

The sparkling still moved around a bit.

“…Alright… I’ll sing you a song… until you sleep.” Chromia smiled, and then she sung a lullaby. 

A song of the Primal Venacular, the meaning lost to time…

And soon, the sparkling stopped stirring. Chromia pushed the button on the side, engaging the pod.

<<STASIS POD ENGAGED.>>

“Good night, Snowflake,” Chromia bid her sister goodbye.

“And now that she’s safe and sound…” She heard her mother address her, “It’s time I added a new subject to your education.”

---

Inside the Hall of Records, in a holosuite, Ariel swung her spear at an attacker. As the assailant, a duplicate of her bordered by energy, hit the floor, they disappeared. Ariel always believed that the first step to being a good fighter was to be able to hold your own against herself. As such, she had obtained permission from her superiors to install some combat drills, customized to her preferences, in order to use the holodeck as a training room.

“System, change to scenario Delta Four, and generate a new opponent” Ariel called out.

Responding to her request, the geography of the room began to change. What was once an open space with a red floor and walls switched to a mountainous landscape, as stone columns rose from the ground, forming a path of stepping stones. On the furthermost column, another duplicate of Ariel appeared, spear in hand.

“And, begin!” stated Ariel, leaping from one column to the other.

The holomatter duplicate did the same, charging towards Ariel. As they ran, several of the columns disappeared as more rose around them. Both combatants jumped around the holographic arena, waiting to see who would be the first to strike.

Eventually it was the duplicate who made the first strike, leaping forward and thrusting her spear at the real Ariel. Ariel parried the blow with her own spear, and used the opportunity to kick the duplicate back. The duplicate was knocked back, managing to land back on her feet on the column she had just jumped from.

Ariel then charged forward at her foe, leaping forward over several columns and swung her spear at the holomatter foe. The duplicate swung her own spear back, meeting the blade with her own. The two exchanged strikes, both managing to block them with impeccable timing. Before either could get an edge, the column beneath Ariel dropped, and her along with it.

Though she tried to grab her foe’s column, she could not reach it in time, and dropped… right onto the warm surface of the holodeck facefirst.

“System, end simulation” Arial moaned as she picked herself up off the floor.

As she stood up, the scenery disappeared, leaving only the projector on the floor and the blank white walls. Using her spear to aid her as she stood back up, she stretched and yawned.

“Computer, save footage under file ‘Need for improvement’, then shut down when you’re done” she ordered. “I’ll check the footage and see what I need to work on before I start my shift in the morning.”

Ariel left through the door, the lights slowly shutting off as she took her leave.

---

Outside of Messatine’s own arena, the blizzard winds made flying by all but the biggest fliers an example of stupidity in the works, and even the biggest fliers would have trouble figuring out where they were under normal circumstances. The battering of a propeller would be drowned out by the howling of the winds, and by the time anyone would notice you were even there, you’d be buried to your neck in the snow, frozen in the ice and forced into stasis lock. In other words, nobody would even think to look to the sky and think that anyone flying there would know what they were doing.

Certainly not the larger-then-average copterbot, shrouded in white with only the black of its propeller betraying his presence.

They stood a bigger chance of noticing the bot following behind, a purple behemoth of a jet, but even then the winds made them hard to notice…

Honestly, despite the two brutes’ size, nobody would suspect much outside of possibly frozen corpses… if it weren’t for the purple one practically roaring.

“That’s enough! We have the location of the arena already, but the sheer amount of wind and snow in the area makes actually getting him out of here too difficult!” the white one shouted.

“NO! LIES! LIES!” The purple one doubled him in volume, “THERE’S NO EVIDENCE THAT THIS IS AN ORDINARY WINDSTORM! IF WE ARE TO FREE HIM, WE MUST DO IT NOW, LEAST A CRYOKINETIC FACE US DOWN!”

“Keep your voice down, there’s no need to yell about this!”

“I AM NOT YELLING! I AM POINTING OUT THAT WE MAY NOT HAVE ANOTHER CHANCE!”

“You can do that by talking!”

“I AM TALKING!”

The howls of the wind made this conversation difficult to pick up on, but there was someone who was listening. The Autotrooper stationed outside, a Model G type, kept an eye on these two not out of any fear or caution for his job, but merely because he hoped he didn’t have to dig their frozen bodies out when the blizzard passed.

“NOW, WE HAVE TO RUSH THE ENTRANCE, BASH OUR WAY IN, AND RETRIEVE HIM.”

“We, in fact, do not! We can just say we’re aspiring gladiators, engage him in a fight, then grab him and run.”

“THEY’LL BE OVER US IN A MATTER OF MINUTES IF WE DO!”

“Like that’ll be anything more than inconvenient!”

“WHAT MAKES YOU SAY THAT?!”

“Your dad may have served in fighting off the Combatron army, but I was one of its secret weapons. Fleetkiller, remember?”

Huh? Fleetkiller? This caught the Autotrooper’s attention.

As the blizzard raged on, the Autotrooper could make out the two approaching. Although their approach was slow and ponderous, it was a miracle they could keep moving at all, and a miracle granted to them by their size. The Copterbot did indeed have a fleetkiller-style body, but the Autotrooper had seen many civilians with that body design, abiet smaller. The bot behind him was a purple and teal colossus, but the most notable bit was his single optic sensor, glowing like a giant flashlight tinted red.

Eventually, the two managed to get to the doors…

“Sir, if you want to enter, you could’ve just used the tunnel network,” The Autotrooper pointed out.

“Uh… we could have, but my friend got us lost,” the copterbot answered back.

“Right. So, you spectating or hoping to jump in?” the Autotrooper asked.

“WE INTEND TO FIGHT! FOR THE GLORY OF-“ the jetbot was quickly interrupted by the copterbot stepping in, “The Union of Gladiatorial Heavyweights!”

“…The what?”

“Yeah, we represent cybertronians of plus-sized bodytypes, both flier and groundpounder,” the copterbot replied, “Tell me, does your position in the Arenas provide any unsatisfactory factors of employment?”

“…Well, they don’t have that great a health insurance,” the Autotrooper noted, “Being an AI myself I don’t have to worry too much, but apparently some of the gladiators lack something called ‘dental.’”

“They don’t even have dental,” the copterbot sighed, “Relax, we’ll work it out with the people in charge here.”

“AND HERE, HAVE A BOOK DETAILING SOME OF THE FLAWS IN SOCIETY AND PROPOSALS TO FIX THEM,” the behemoth gave the Autotrooper a book. A book with the title “Towards Peace.”

And with that, the two entered…

---

The arena was a massive dome, and the pit in the middle of that dome was a huge center of activity… specifically fighting-type activity, as could be expected. Spectators cheered as a Junkion Two-Wheeler was thrown out of the arena into the crowd below.

“AND THERE GOES BOLTS!” An announcer shouted, “Man, they’re raging out there today!”

The colossus and copterbot approached the arena… only to be intercepted by the comically small form of a Camien jetbot.

“Whoah, whoah, you two!” the jetbot noted, “You have to sign up for the next brawl. Sign up table’s over there.”

The colossus blinked, narrowed his optical sensor, and sent the jet flying aside with a nonchalant flick of his admittedly bulky fingers.

“We don’t need to be rude,” the copterbot admonished him.

“This mission cannot afford niceties,” the colossus replied, stepping into the arena.

“Well, folks, looks like we got an enthusiastic new addition to the fight this round!” The announcer noted, “Who wants to make bets on when he’s gonna get thrown out?! We may need multiple guys to do the throwing though!”

The colossus looked over the arena, examining the fighters around him. One dinobot, fighting primarily in his therapodal beast mode. A tanker-bot wearing a less heavily armed version of the Autotrooper Type G body design. A white-tinted truckformer obviously using a military frame noted for the heavy armaments and gas-mask-styled helmet. An APC-bot with digitigrade legs and a fang-filled face, assisted in the intimidation factor by the optic-patch on her right side. All strong opponents in their own right, but his optic soon locked on a single opponent – a charcoal-armored bot with burgundy highlights and the distinct helmet of a miner.

The colossus was interrupted from his scan by the dinobot charging at him first, fangs beared.

“Oh boy, looks like Tarbosar’s making the first move against the newcomer!” The announcer cheered… and was interrupted when the colossus knocked him aside with minimal effort, “…And that ended up being a short-lived action! Let’s see if any of the other competitors can knock him out!”

The tankerbot made the next move, converting to tank mode and blasting at the colossus with what he had. His blasts were caught mid-shot by a blast of wind, sending them flying to the other corners of the arena.

“And it looks like Blast-Shard’s not getting lucky today, as another competitor has jumped in!”

The other competitor, the copterbot, landed before the colossus. “You really couldn’t have waited until they had knocked each other out?”

“The sooner we get the mission done, the better,” the colossus replied.

The two were soon set upon by the truck-bot and the APC-bot.

“Oh, looks like Alphastrike and Solarstrike have teamed up for the task!”

Another gust of wind saw their armaments rendered ineffective. Solarstrike, the APC, changed tactics to counter, generating an energon-spear in her hands and charging with a roar…

“Just step aside,” The copterbot intercepted with his own hand, grabbing her helm and tossing her to the edge of the arena.

“Oh, dear, looks like our newcomers are just tossing the established cast aside! Can Alphastrike and whats-his-face turn this around?!” the announcer asked nobody.

This gave the colossus pause.

“Wait…” Copterbot turned and saw the barely-restrained rage in the colossus’s optic, “I know it’s tempting but don’t give in. We have a job to do…”

“I know…” The colossus noted, “But we have to de-escalate this… right?”

For the first time since he arrived, the colossus winded up a punch, aimed not at a target, but the ground.

“Oh, no,” the Copterbot jumped as high as he could.

“KINETIC EXAGGERATION!” The colossus shouted, “MEGATON PUNCH!!!”

The sheer force of the named punch’s impact sent everyone flying… spectators included.

Satisfied by his efforts, the colossus stood up again, and began walking out of the arena, to where the charcoal-armored bot had been embedded in the nearby wall.

“Ugh…” the charcoal-armored bot groaned, “Is… is this where I’m going to get wrecked? Did… did House Winter send you?”

The colossus shook his head no, “I am not here for their dream… I’m here for yours.”

“What?” The charcoal-armored bot had only enough time to utter that question before he was extracted from the wall.

“Control, this is White-Out and Purple People Eater,” The copterbot tapped his commlink, “Target has been acquired. We will now head to the extraction point.”

“Soundwave Acknowledges. Proceed.”

“W-what’s going on-“ The charcoal bot asked.

“Relax, sir,” The copterbot patted him on the head, “We’re just going on a quick trip.”

The two brutes quickly transformed into vehicle mode, both aerial-types, and jetted out of the scene, a confused miner/gladiator being carried along with them.

“Wh-HEY!” The only standing combatant, Alphastrike, shouted as they departed, “You purple bastard, You owe me a rematch!”

---

A short while of flying through the blizzard later, the two landed at a nearby transit train station.

“Uh, not to distract you two, but normally there’s a terminal where you pay for transit-“ the charcoal-colored bot spoke up.

“Sir, please, allow us to explain ourselves,” the copterbot replied as the train arrived, “When we’re far from here.”

The three of them boarded the train and took seats at a nearby booth, shutting the door behind them.

“Alright, what’s this about? Purely a means of ransom?” the charcoal-colored one asked.

“I think it’s best if she explains it,” The copterbot pulled a small holodisk and activated it, projecting a femme with a chevron mounded on their forehead.

“Hello, Megatron,” The femme spoke, “Yes, we know who you are. My name is Kiloton, former miner of Croteus 12, and according to the government as dictated by energon recovery companies such as Omnicon, neither of us exist.”

“You guys… are associated with Elita?” the now identified Megatron asked.

“Who?” the copterbot asked back.

“…Nevermind,” Megatron replied.

“However, due to the machinations of many individuals both on Messatine and elsewhere in the commonwealth, your words have spread far and wide, and many miners are at least aware of the words of ‘Towards Peace,’” Kiloton continued, “And they’re liking what they’re reading.”

“Oh, so I’m being abducted by fans!” Megatron chuckled, “Please tell me this isn’t going to end with my legs in pieces.”

“Why would it, Lord Megatron?” the colossus asked.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t use that title, please, mr…”

“I am designated Lugnut,” the colossus replied.

“Grindor,” the copterbot added.

“Your teachings have gained quite a following, with thousands of bots believing in you. But recent events have forced our hand. We intend to bring you out of that icy hellscape and into a world where you can see the full effects,” Kiloton continued, “If Lugnut did the job right, the next stop for this train should be Houth Station. From there, you can head over to Tochi Hanger, where your ride out will be waiting.”

“Are we on the right train?” Grindor asked.

<<We are now approaching Houth Station,>> the system announced, <<Please make sure you’re not blocking the door for new riders.>>

“Is that a sufficient answer for you?” Lugnut asked.

As the train pulled into the station, the three of them exited.

“Hey, wait, I didn’t check your ticket!” A nearby attendant shouted.

“Too late we’re going!” Lugnut replied, grabbing Megatron, hoisting him over his shoulder, and running for the exit. Grindor followed close behind, looking slightly mortified.

---

Tochi Hanger was a relatively desolate place. It was mostly used for storing private cruisers when they weren’t being used by the ruling elite. Much of it was automated, making the few bots working there have little else to do but stand around and wait for someone to yell at them for not fixing something.

The arrival of the two massive fliers was probably the most interesting thing for them that day, but they stirred not.

“Alright, we’re here,” Grindor noted, “The ship should be nearby.”

Megatron turned his head as best he could to see the ship in question – a rather dingy looking shuttle with two massive pods on either side of the machine.

“Ah, a Dreska-class shuttle,” Grindor smiled, “So nostalgic.”

“Where’s the pilot, though?” Lugnut wondered aloud.

“Answer: Present,” A new voice spoke up, one that sounded even more metallic than a typical AI, but one with a kind of aura that could not come from anything other than a true lifeform. Megatron was put down by Lugnut and turned to see a third mech – a boxy blue mech with a faceplate, a gold-colored visor, and a giant glowing panel in their chest.

“Uh, nice to meet you, I’m-“ Megatron began trying to introduce himself.

“Identified; Megatron,” the blue mech replied. He then pointed at himself, “Personal designation; Soundwave III.”

“Three?” Megatron asked.

“Soundwave used to be in the Combatron War as a communications mech, but after the war, he began backing up his consciousness as a backup measure. Legally his copies are considered new bots,” Grindor noted.

“I am the third back-up created,” Soundwave added.

“I see. So, uh, Soundwave, I take it you’re our shuttle pilot?” Megatron asked.

“Affirmative. Destination; Cybertron.”

“w-What?” Megatron stuttered, “THE Cybertron?”

“Affirmative.”

“That’s… a bit of a shock,” Megatron noted, “I’m… sorry if I seem a bit taken aback-“

“We don’t have time for clarification!” Lugnut shouted, “We’ve got Autotroopers incoming!”

Indeed, a small force of Model Type A Autotroopers were approaching rapidly.

“Excuse me, sir!” The leader of the force spoke up, “Might we have a word?”

“Get Megatron inside!” Lugnut shouted.

“Affirmative,” Soundwave replied, pushing Megatron up the boarding ramp.

Megatron could only hear the sounds of plasma fire and then a loud booming noise that caused the ship to shudder.

“DAMMIT LUGNUT, SOME WARNING NEXT TIME!” Grindor admonished as he dragged Lugnut on board.

“Launching Sequence Initiated,” Soundwave announced, “Recommendation; strap in.”

Megatron fumbled with his strap as the other two managed it before him.

“Launching.”

The ship’s engines roared and it blasted out of the hanger, knocking aside the Autotroopers that remained.

Before any response could be scrambled, the Dreska Shuttle erupted from Messatine’s atmosphere and warped out of the system…

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 03

Orion’s optics looked over the ocean, scanning the horizon. Oceans were a relative rarity on Cybertron, with only the ones that didn’t involve water being named. But they proved beneficial to the shipment of goods, and many bots have taken on modes designed for this environment.

Where Orion stood, Helix’s Lookout, was famous for being a famous lookout point for people lonely enough to look for relationships to toss shanix into the water for good luck, but Orion had no interest in the idea. This area merely was close enough to his workplace that he could roll here and back, while also sticking away from the crowds that normally gathered in the city’s more common feeding centers.

Of course, that didn’t mean he was always alone.

“So, this is where you sneak off to every lunch,” The voice of Ariel brought his attention behind him, as the gold-black femme stepped up to the railing next to him, “You been meeting some lucky boy with a shanix at the ready?”

“Heh, no,” Orion answered, “I just like to get away from everyone else. Not like I’m that sociable, anywho.”

“I don’t know,” Ariel noted, “You give me the time of day. And I’ve seen you meeting that dockworker every day when you leave work.”

“After the first month, Dion threatened to trash our place if I don’t talk to him, and I don’t want him breaking my books.”

“So all I’ve got to do to make conversation with you is threaten to bring my lance down through your desk,” Ariel noted teasingly.

“Alright, fine, I’ll talk,” Orion chuckled, “But I won’t talk about family, romance or Cube games.”

Ariel chuckled back.

“To tell you the truth,” Ariel noted, “I think you’re kinda nice. I mean, you’re the only person besides A3 who actually talks to me. You librarian types tend to clan up, but you don’t seem like that. And besides, don’t think I haven’t noticed the occasional glances over you give.”

“Umm, well, it always pays to know where the security guard is,” Orion noted, “Never know when, um, an emergency might come up, you, uh, know?”

“If you say so,” Ariel noted, sipping down an energon cube, “So, how do you know Dion?”

“At first it was mostly economical,” Orion noted, “the apartment is within my budget, but it made sense to have someone to back up the payments, even if by a little bit.”

“Ah, roommates,” Ariel noted, “So, a dockworker has enough money to supplement your rent?”

“I figured he could add at least a few months. But then he turned out to have an extra career he works nights at, down in Kaon.”

“Kaon? You mean the one place on Cybertron where chaos reigns?”

“He’s the type to like his jobs rough.”

“What kind of extra career does he have?”

“I… I think it has something to do with the arenas,” Orion noted.

“Is he a fighter?” Ariel asked.

“No, but apparently he knows a few of them…”

“I… I see,” Ariel noted.

A brief period of silence crossed the two, before…

“Y’know, he invited me to join him on a trip there sometime,” Orion spoke up, “And I’m not sure what to do there.”

“…Well, he’s your friend, I don’t know him that well,” Ariel pointed out, “So I’m torn between encouraging you to go, and advising you to avoid Kaon.”

“You ever been to Kaon?” Orion asked.

“Never.”

“So you’re basing your assessment on data that could be contaminated with bias.”

“Even people forged in Kaon have agreeing opinions, so there’s some truth to it, at least.”

“That’s a possibility.”

“…Honestly, you have to go with your gut on these kinds of things,” Ariel noted, “Strategy can help, data can inform, but ultimately sometimes your feelings are the best to lead.”

“I see… helpful advice,” Orion noted.

“Just doing what I can.”

---

 “You ready man?” Dion asked as Orion exited his room.

“As much as I feel like this is a mistake on my part, I guess we’re going down to your new workplace,” Orion noted.

“Trust me, you’re not going to regret it.”

---

Within the half-hour, Orion and Dion arrived at a Transwarp Portal Center. The portal tech was still relatively new, being only about 4 years old and such, but the inherent risks of the technology were still mostly ignored in favor of the novelty of taking one step out of one city and ending up on the other side of the world.

“What? You think I drive all the way there?”

“But a trip on one of these things is pretty expensive. Even with a dockworker’s pay, you can’t afford to go more than twice a month to and from… well, anywhere, really.”

“I managed to get a multiple-day pass to and from anywhere in the world,” Dion replied, “Hell, anywhere in the Commonwealth if I wanted. But mostly I go to one location…”

Dion stepped on a Transwarp pad and typed a few codes in. “If you wanna come, you better step on.”

Orion, too intrigued to think too much, stepped on.

“Oh, you might not wanna move too much, I don’t usually bring along anything too big and anything that indicates you’re alive might tip off the scanner and get me charged extra,” Dion replied, as the pad hummed to life…

And in a brilliant flash of light, Orion and Dion were now in a very different place. Rather then the stark white of the buildings of Iacon, the ground and walls were a deep blueish purple.

“Orion, my friend, welcome to the anti-Iacon,” Dion smirked, “Kaon, the City of the Fallen.”

“Just as filthy as I expect,” Orion noted with no inflection in his voice.

“I know! Exciting, ain’t it,” Dion smirked, “Every kind of degenerate you can find here. The brutes, the mad scientists, the punks, the jocks… trust me, if every city in the universe was like Kaon, no man would ever feel unwanted or the need to change themselves to fit anyone else’s ideals. But even here? There are some who feel they need an outlet for their… what do you call it…?”

“Homicidal tendencies?”

“Need to relieve some stress,” Dion smirked.

“…what are you, a peeler?” Orion asked, quite confused.

“A peeler? Primus, Orion, do I look like I let people ogle me for money?” Dion replied with mock offense, “I don’t have the right body type for these people. I’m… more of a fight manager.”

“Eh? They need those for gladiatorial arenas?”

“Well, if you kept a closer eye on such things, you’d find Gladiatorial to be such a bad word for it,” Dion replied, “It’s closer to professional wrestling on some planets, or boxing. Entirely voluntary, death is not a prerequisite for winning, and nobody goes to bed crying… at least, not publicly.”

“Yeah, but it’s still not legal!” Orion hissed, “I mean, not under the Prime’s rule…”

“The Prime’s rule is exactly why this was necessary,” Dion replied, his tone darkening a bit, “Like it or not, people are not exactly pleased with how strict rules have been, so they need a place to lash out and let their anger out, and the fights of the gladiatorial arena are a perfect spectacle!”

This gave Orion pause… a perfect spectacle for the masses… and yet, it wasn’t exactly lawful. 

How big could it possibly be?

---

Pretty big, in fact.

The entire damn arena covered an area that seemed to match that of the Iacon Amphitheater, with the stands each holding about a thousand seats per row.

What was really surprising to Orion was the fighting arena itself, more specifically what it actually was. A massive disk of malleable technomatter that when programmed properly, could mimic the shape and properties of any environment, the illusion completed by a vast array of holoprojectors, which at the moment combined to form a blazing desert like the mysterious Arrakis of the Starborne Nebula.

Not that this mattered to the two construction bots currently beating the tar out of each other.

“OOOO! LOOKS LIKE LANDMINE GOT THE UPPER HAND HERE, FOLKS!” The announcer shouted in delight, “BUT CAN GRAVEDIGGER DIG HIS WAY OUT OF THIS ONE?!”

“So, uh, which one’s your fighter?” Orion asked.

“Neither of them. Landmine and Gravedigger are two of the most powerful fighters in the entire circuit, and have a bit of a long-standing rivalry, albeit a friendly one if we’re gonna be honest,” Dion noted, “My fighter’s probably in the back room, waiting for me to give him a pep talk or something…”

“OHOHOHOH! LOOKS LIKE GRAVEDIGGER’S BREAKING OUT THE BIG MOVES! PILEDRIVER! PILEDRIIIVER!!”

Orion, shrugging, followed Dion towards the back room entrance...

---

The back room was considerably less oppressive in aesthetic to the arena or even the city at large. tiles of lavender dotted the halls and rows of lockers lined the place, but it was a considerably more open area compared to what Orion expected.

The people in them, on the other hand, were as weighty and armored as he expected, for the most part. It was certainly a stark contrast, enough to bring Orion to find the nearest bench and sit down, the towel that had conveniently been put town gave Orion a sense of safety…

Which had been promptly shattered when he heard a hissing voice behind him address his presence with a simple "you…."

And when Orion turned around, he saw it came from the tallest cybertronian he had ever laid eyes on, a massive mech who looked like he became some sort of drilling machine, optics glaring down on him.

"Uh… I apologize for how I… offended you," Orion got up as slowly and as carefully, not wanting to anger this Goliath, "Please… let me know how I could prevent such from happening again."

"DON'T DISTURB MY DIRT!" the titan roared, removing the towel to reveal several piles of dirt, "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH TIME IT TAKES TO KEEP THESE SOIL SAMPLES FROM CROSS CONTAMINATING?!"

As the giant took an absurd amount of time to fix up the 'soil samples,' Orion attempted to back away.

"Wait." the humongous mech turned to him, "You don't look like the usual managers. Who are you? Who sent you?! SPEAK UP!"

"Uh… I'm here with a friend, don't mind-" Orion managed to stammer out before the massive mech grabbed his arm, "WHOA HEY, I AM SORRY FOR DISTURBING YOU!"

"Look, calm down, you might hurt yourself more then I would!" the drilling machine hissed, using a tiny manipulator claw emerging from his arm to remove a sliver of metal before letting Orion's arm go, "Alright, let's hear your story…"

"Uh…" Orion attempted to reply before the mech interrupted him.

"Ok, this came from a clean environment, parchment fiber from the Rust Delta circa Age of Expansion Year 500, lead pencil no. 2, paint flakes of Iacon Pure White #34," the titan murmured, "The microscopic fingerprints of an archivist…" a closer look was taken, "Top. Ranking."

"…Is this something you learn from experience or-"

"THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!" the titan roared, swinging wildly, "WE CAME HERE TO GET AWAY FROM YOUR TYPE! OUT! BEGONE, YOU OPPRESSOR!"

Orion backed away as quickly as he could… right into the midsection of the arriving Gravedigger.

"Uh oh," Gravedigger snickered, "Looks like someone sat in the dirt again."

Orion could only stammer out the word 'again.'

"Moledive! What have I told you about playing nice with the managers and their friends?" Gravedigger addressed the massive mech.

"IT IS MENASOR, YOU LUMMOX! Or should I call you Scavenger?!" Moledive shouted, drills spinning threateningly.

Gravedigger responded only by bringing out a cleansing chemical bar, "Don't make me use this."

This was apparently enough to bring Moledive / Menasor to cower behind a nearby row of lockers.

"I am terribly sorry for causing that situation," Orion replied.

"Ah, it's alright. Most people learn to keep those on hand whenever he's around," Gravedigger smirked, "I'm sure you already know my name. Gravedigger."

"Orion Pax," Orion replied without hesitation, "Uh, nice to meet you."

"Oh, you're that guy Dion complains about all the time," Gravedigger noted, "Kinda wanted to meet you someday, just to see how much of a buzzkill you would be. Ah well, no time like the present."

"I'm not a buzzkill… social activity just tires me out," Orion replied.

"Ah, that's my cousin Tread's excuse, too," Gravedigger chuckled, "So, where you from?"

"Well, I spent most of my life up in Iacon, but I was actually born of Tygar Pax."

"Tygar Pax, eh? Coastal city bordering the Sea of Nova," Gravedigger noted, "My other cousin works there. Your family ever take up fishing?"

"Not really, you?"

"Primus no. I hate fishing. Too leisurely for me, it leaves a stupid muck on my armor, hate all the little bones."

"Eh, fish was never really big with me either, so I can relate."

"Alright, nice to hear!"

That's when Dion popped in, "Yo, Orion, can we, uh, talk a bit here?"

"Sure," Orion nodded, turning to Gravedigger, "Well, it was nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too!"

As Dion dragged Orion away, he started asking questions.

"How'd you meet Gravedigger?"

"Oh, he defended me from a massive drilling machine."

"Moledive? Oh man, he is the WORST."

"Where do they MAKE bots like that?"

"He claims to be from the colony world of Gigantion. Wherever the hell that is."

"I might check the archive about that tomorrow," Orion made a mental note.

"Anyway, the point is that you actually had a conversation with one of the top gladiators here!" Dion replied, "That is HUGE for your first day here!"

"If you say so…" Orion replied.

"Anyway, allow me to introduce you to MY gladiator," Dion smirked, leading him to a purple-and-orange mech who was sitting down… while fighting a cougaraider.

"Is that guy fighting a cougaraider?" Orion asked.

"That's his favorite pastime outside the arena," Dion replied, "Yo, Pact! You got a second?"

"Ah, Dion! Give me a second, this Cougaraider has a lot of bite to him!" the mech that Dion called Pact quickly snapped the poor creature's neck, "There. Now we're good! Who's the nerd?"

"This is Orion, my roommate," Dion replied, "Orion, allow me to introduce you to Impactor!"

"G'day, Orion! Nice to meet you!" Impactor reached a hand out… and as soon as Orion took it, he immediately maneuvered Orion into a noogie, "Haha! This guy's just a big softie, ain't he!"

"Admittedly, yeah," Orion managed to grunt out as Impactor let him go.

"Anyway, next fight's mine, right?"

"Yep. And your fighter's… huh, I could've sworn it was Sulture, but this chart says Beastboost."

"Sulture got admitted to the hospital! Mining accident!" one guy shouted.

"Beastboost, Sulture, what difference will it make when I break their face in?" Impactor smirked.

"Uh, this is meant to be a friendly fight, right?"

"Kid," Impactor smirked, "Trust me. It will…"

Impactor got up, dusting himself off, and made his way to the arena's door, Dion following.

"Now, pal, I don't think I should make it clear, that you shouldn't TRY to kill the other guy," Orion heard Dion tell his fighter.

"Trust me. I don't try to kill them. It just kinda happens."

"I sincerely hope you pull back this time, though. If another one dies this month, you're gonna be barred from fighting here for a YEAR," Dion pointed out.

"Trust me, Dion," Impactor stepped into a porter booth, "I'll do just fine."

As Impactor teleported out, Orion saw a holoscreen boot up, projecting the arena, now shifted into a forestry area. On one side, Impactor stood, arms crossed, smile wide. The other side, a green Primatoid who looked like he transformed into a race car of sorts. And in-between, a white mech with the only hints of color being red and blue panels on his arms and his azure optic visor.

"Ok, I want a clean fight. No eye touching, no groin attacks, no intentional killing," the middle mech replied, "Impactor Halyon vs Beastboost Hardfist. Battle Code, 0902. Ready…"

"FIGHT!" Impactor interrupted him, charging forward. The Primatoid charged as well, the two meeting in a cross-counter in the middle.

Orion found himself in awe. Even if he was a bit skeptical about the legal nature of this form of duel, he could not take his eyes off it.

The way Beastboost used Transformation to knock Impactor off his feet… the way Impactor grabbed his alt mode's top fin and flung him across the arena… the way Beastboost used the trees to redirect his free-fling to hit Impactor like a rocket… Which gave Impactor ample room to send him FLYING OUT OF THE ARENA INTO THE STANDS?!

"Battle…OVER!" the judge announced. "The winner is… IMPACTOR!"

"HAHAHAHAHA!" Impactor gestured, "WHO THE BOT?! ME THE BOT!"

And there was no doubt about it… Orion made a note to come back here again, if only for the thrill again.

---

Not far from the arena, a Dreska-class shuttle entered the city, carrying only passengers.

“PRIMUS, That was a trip!” Megatron noted.

“Oh, sorry, forgot how the Spacebridges can be for first-timers,” Grindor noted.

Megatron shook his head, “No, no, don’t be concerned about me…”

“Okay, okay,” Grindor replied.

The ship landed in a spaceport near the arena, abet a very unpopulated one.

“From one empty shipyard to another,” Megatron noted.

As the ramp opened, a new figure stood before the ship. A femme, silver in armored, with a familiar chevron on her forehead.

“I take it you’re Kiloton?” Megatron asked.

“And you must be Megatron,” the femme, Kiloton, noted.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Megatron replied.

Kiloton smiled. Even with someone who called for a total devastation of the system, they could be so humble by comparison…

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 04

It had been a month since he started coming to these fights at Dion's request, and now Orion had managed to make a pretty good balance between his job as an archivist and his… well, he would hesitate to call it a career, so more of a hobby really, But either way, his time in this Kaonian Arena had led to him being known and respected by many competitors. Enough that they’ve begun sharing stories of their past.

“So there I was, deep in the Acid Wastes of Pern, facing two Vehicon tank drones,” Gravedigger continued the story, “And who would show up but one of their top generals?”

“Oh, is that right? Which one?”

“I don’t really remember the name, but he had this really annoying voice, like,” Gravedigger’s voice shot to a falsetto, “Oh, nowhere to run, Vanguard scum! You’re absolutely hopeless here!”

“So, what happened next?” Dion asked.

“Well, I shot a blast from my Proton Rifle, which ricocheted from one grunt to another before hitting the guy’s thruster, blowing him into the sky and sending him tumbling into the ground below! And as he growled with pain, I decided to taunt him a bit with a last little bit of info – ‘the name’s Gravedigger. And if you mess with my friends again, you’ll see why.’ Then I transformed and drove back into the plains, too quick for anyone to catch up.”

“Interesting story,” Orion noted.

“Yeah, one of the moments in the war that stuck out to me,” Gravedigger chuckled, “Another was that one time I sparred with Ginrai Convoy himself. Granted, it was a team effort with me and Landmine, and that still didn’t slow him down, but it still was a pretty good moment for both of us.”

“Really? Why?” Orion asked.

“Well, that was a bit of a long story,” Gravedigger smirked, “But what the heck, I’ve got a few minutes to spare…”

---

“I gotta admit, it’s surprising how much more complex the situation is on Cybertron,” Megatron noted as his optics scanned the skyline of Kaon… or rather, the rampant commercialization that seems to have grown on it like a wild vine of some organic variety, suffocating the life out of the forest it invaded.

“Indeed,” Kiloton replied, “On Messatine and colony worlds like it, one company is responsible for the energon you fuel yourself with, the job you work at, the very floor beneath your feet. On Cybertron, it’s an economic battleground, and everyone wants to be the apex.”

“How is order maintained in such an environment?” Megatron thought to ask.

Kiloton’s optics turned down to a small gathering on a sidestreet, where at least five bots were all standing in a pathway, which blocked the travel of a few civilians. Before Megatron could say anything, a force of Autotroopers erupted from a nearby street and started wacking at the protestors with tonfas. Not hard enough to actually hurt, but enough to drive the protestors off the street at least.

“Violently,” was Kiloton’s answer.

“Such barbarism,” Megatron hissed, “Can’t these bots just let people state their opinions in peace?”

“That would necessitate them giving up control over the populace,” Kiloton sighed, “And that is the last thing they want.”

“Guess corporations need to rule everything, don’t they?” Megatron replied.

“They’re not the only ones who you need to look out for,” Kiloton responded.

“But they have all the money,” Megatron noted, “Who could have more influence with the powers of Cybertron?”

“The Functionists,” Kiloton gave her answer.

Megatron looked confused. He did some research on the Functionists, but he didn’t think they were that prominent.

“The Functionists are a group of bots so dedicated to making sure everything is in perfect order that they believe everyone is guided to their alt mode by the will of Primus himself, for a task Primus chose,” Kiloton explained, “and unfortunately for the rest of us, they’re zealots.”

“Some could say the same thing for the Reversionists,” Megatron noted, “From what I understand, their desire to see Cybertron’s children return to her is more oppressive.”

“Yes, but the fact is that their belief is not exactly compatible with the idea of people being able to change their mind later,” Kiloton answered, “With the Reversionists, you could at least argue with them about what their religion constitutes. With the Functionists, you’re essentially screaming bloody murder at a piece of wall plating. It won’t understand that you have your opinion, but if the task suits its purpose, it will crush you flat.”

“I… I see,” Megatron grew silent.

“My mentor saw the Functionists as a greater threat, even before they gained their current influence.”

“Your mentor?” Megatron asked.

“I may have been merely a construction bot, but I was put in some lucrative projects, which earned me the interest of a local senator,” Kiloton explained, “Her name was Termagax, and she and I grew to appreciate each other’s ideas.”

“Sounds like what I had with my mentor,” Megatron noted, “His name was Terminus.”

“Terminus?”

“Yeah. He was an old miner I had to room with at the beginning of my time in the mines. He ended up teaching me a lot about the outside world, and even distributed my first book. Then he lost his legs and got carted off-world. I think he’s dead.”

“You think he’s dead?”

“Yeah.”

“…I see…”

---

“Today’s senate meeting will begin thusly,” A gold-plated jetbot spoke as he stood surrounded by his peers, “Senator Arcton of Nova Cronum presiding.”

“Can I submit a query to be answered quickly before we begin in earnest?” A blue Cybertronian with the hallmark wheels of a hauler interrupted.

“Acknowledged, Senator Wildrun of Praxus.”

“Where’s Guard Con-“ Wildrun cleared his vocoder, “Sentinel Prime?”

“He will not be attending today’s meeting,” a red-plated beastformer answered, “He’s occupied with presiding over a trade negotiation with the Shadow Proclamation.”

“So, what’s the meaning of this meeting if the Prime is not here to advise it?” asked a green copterbot.

“The fact that the Prime is not here is exactly why it has to be held today,” Arcton answered, “This meeting is to discuss the possibility of removing Sentinel from a position of power and assigning a new Prime to preside.”

“Do you believe the Prime is unfit for duty?” the copterbot asked.

“I propose this as a cautionary measure,” Arcton replied, “Ever since the Matrix’s disappearance, Sentinel’s mind has grown more fragmented, and this has left him vulnerable to parties that in spite of their claims are not acting in the best interest of the populace.”

“You speak of the Functionist Council?” A white bot wearing robes inquired.

“Amongst others.”

“What others are you speaking of?” a silver-plated carformer asked.

“Many in certain citystates and colonies are beginning to form responses to the faults of society pointed out by controversial manuscripts, including a particularly venomous one called ‘Towards Peace,’” Arcton explained, “I know that prior to departing from the senate, Termagax of Kaon began using various passages of it as a basis for her ‘Ascension’ platform.”

“Is this connected to the ‘Risers’ who’ve been a local nuisance in Tarn?” Another bot in robes, this one going with metal instead of fabric.

“We suspect so.”

“Anything else you suspect, Arcton?”

“A couple months ago, Messatine suffered a mining accident that rendered part of the planet’s upper hemisphere untenable, and a couple days later, Boreus was assassinated.”

Murmurs soon filled the room.

“Then a week after that, the arena that Boreus was assassinated in got assailed by a former Combatronian soldier along with an unknown associate, which culminated in a single competitor being kidnapped. Autotroopers tracked the two to a spaceport a short tram ride away, only for the kidnappers to leave the planet with their hostage and an unknown third associate,” Arcton continued, “This is no coincidence. I have reason to believe the mine’s destruction, Boreus’s assassination, and the kidnapping all involve the same individual.”

“Three incidents that most have not paid any mind except for Boreus being destroyed,” the white bot pointed out, “Why does this disturb you?”

“Because while I have no proof, I also believe this has some connection to ‘Towards Peace.’”

“What do you intend to do?”

“Find anyone involved in this case, be they the kidnapper, their associates, or the hostage, and bring them in so we can have a better understanding of this case,” Arcton answered “Before it escalates into a crisis and is brought to the attention of the Functionists.”

“Right, and who are you going to find for the job?” the metal-robed bot asked.

“I do have many options, but the one with the most potential happens to be from your turf, Senator Momus representing Tarn,” Arcton answered.

“Why do you insist on mentioning the representing part, if I may ask?”

“Because it’s not accurate to your forgeworld, Momus of Messatine.”

“I don’t feel like this is right to point out in this particular situation.”

“Yes, but Messatine certainly seems to be the current epicenter of quite a few problems,” Arcton sneered, “And ultimately, a bot from your assigned city may just be the way you can make up for your worldbrother’s mishaps.”

“If you don’t drop the point, I may just bar you from hiring anyone from my sector and inform Sentinel of this.”

“Ah, if you insist,” Arcton noted, “I have plenty of options, and I doubt he will care so much…”

“ENOUGH!” a heavy-set mech who had been hovering in the back bellowed, “Enough of this… prattling. Momus has every right to be here, just as you do. And the way I see it, he should make the call on who to call for this situation.”

Everyone turned to Momus, expecting a response.

“…I will consider it,” Momus gave one, “But first, I need to look into the issue.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Arcton replied, “You will be allowed to head to the Archive here in Iacon. Senator Codexa of Helex can accompany if she feels it’s needed.”

“Understood.”

“Now, onto another order of business, who’ll be the replacement Prime?”

“I don’t know WHO, but I vote to name him Nominus Prime!” The heavy in the back answered.

“Is that supposed to be a joke, Senator Hedonus of Kalis?”

“It can be, or it can be more~!”

“If you’re not going to be helpful, we won’t let you near your pit after this.”

Hedonus gasped, then grew silent.

“That’s what I thought. Anyone got any ideas on who’ll be a good Prime?”

Nobody answered.

“C’mon, I can’t be the only one thinking a new Prime may be needed, right?”

Nobody answered.

“Y’all are being harsh.”

---

“…And then Gravedigger mentioned getting involved in the Ultracon Conflict, which gave a clearer picture of the war then we had at the archive at the time,” Orion explained, “Which is why I ended up heading over here rather than heading home afterwards.”

“Well, guess you going to Kaon so often was good for something,” Ariel noted, “I do have to state my reservations of going with Dion every single time he asks. People are beginning to talk about you.”

“Well, it’s a good thing to get some perspective outside your comfort zone,” Orion noted, “Keeps you from going static.”

“I suppose…” Ariel sighed, but her optics soon were focused on two new figures entering the archive.

One was a green power-pole of a fembot, with a flattened visor and a serious expression. The other was a shorter bot, dressed in robe-like armor.

“Excuse me!” Orion addressed the two, “Can I help you?”

“That will not be necessary, sir,” the robed bot answered.

“Alright, well, feel free to holler if you need anything,” Orion replied.

The two nodded and continued into the archive’s information wing.

“Holler?” Orion asked nobody, “I seriously said holler?”

“You did,” Ariel answered.

“Well, guess I really AM spending too much time in the arena, huh,” Orion noted.

“And that’s not the most concerning part of that interaction,” Ariel noted.

“…It’s not?” Orion asked.

“Those were the senators from Helex and Tarn,” Ariel explained, “Not exactly the most high-up bots out there, but definitely noteworthy.”

“…Oh, Primal Forge.”

“Yeeeeeep.”

“…Which one was the Tarn Senator, out of curiosity?”

“Robe-armor guy. Don’t remember his name,” Ariel answered, “I think the Helexian senator’s… Codexa?”

“Codexa? I heard she has her own archive, one linked to this one,” Orion noted.

“What brings her here, then?” Ariel asked.

“No idea…”

Orion’s commlink beeped, grabbing his attention.

“Orion Pax here. How may I assist you?”

“Orion, it’s Dion,” the voice on the other end answered, “Think you can swing by downtown?”

“Downtown Kaon?”

“No, downtown Iacon. Specifically, that new Autobot House thing they’re building,” Dion replied, 

“There’s someone I think you should meet.”

“I’ll see if I can spare my lunch period,” Orion answered.

“Cool!” Dion responded, “See you then!”

---

“Fourth street… Fifth Street… Seventh Street…” Orion counted the streets as he drove in vehicle mode, “Hang on, where’d sixth street go? Oh, nevermind, I’m here.”

Transforming, Orion laid his eyes on a golden done, decorated in a massive red face that looked similar in design to the old Primal Vanguard symbol.

“ Well, this is the place, Autobot House. Centre of Iacon,” Orion noted, “God knows why Dion wants us to meet here.”

“Late! Toldja! You owe me 50 shannix!” Orion heard as Dion rolled up beside him.

“Late - where were you? And we never made any bets!” Orion hissed in protest.

“I did! In my head! And I won!”

Orion sighed.

“So why are we here, Dion? Aside from the fact it’s not officially been opened, I highly doubt you got a meeting with someone like Sherma.”

“I’m just taking you to meet a guy I met online,” Dion explained, prompting Orion to growl a bit, 

“Apparently he met the person who stole the Matrix off of Guard Convoy!”

“The fact that you think someone CAN do that is absurd,” Orion noted.

“Oh, there he is!” Dion shouted as he pointed to a charcoal bot who was struggling with a chain righting a statue, “Must’ve been on the construction teams today!”

Orion raised an optic ridge. He hadn’t seen that mech’s bodytype very often – at least, not in files focused on those mechs’ exploits.

“HEY! MEGGY! WASSUP?” Dion shouted as the mech – ‘Meggy’ – struggled. “IT’S ME! DION!”

“Dion, call me Meggy again and I’m sticking the next statue on your force-converted alt mode!” was Meggy’s curt response.

“So, how’s life out of the mines, now that it’s been a couple months?” Dion asked as he approached.

“It’s nice,” Megatron noted, “Heard the new head of Omnitron got them automated now… But more likely, he’s using some automation to cover up more workers. Meanwhile, the senate’s got us bringing up these dumb statues.”

“You sure you got that?” Orion asked as he approached, watching the chain, “Statue might be a bit much for just you.”

“I’ve got this, glasses.”

Orion, shrugging, grabbed the chain with a single hand, grip held rigid.

“I’ve said I’ve-“

Then Orion tugged with just enough force to pull the statue to its erect state.

“Huh?”

The protective tarp flew off as the statue slammed into place, revealing the form of Guard Convoy, shield held aloft.

“See? Lot works out when people work together,” Orion noted.

“What are you,” Megatron asked, “An outlier?”

“Heh, no, House Pax just has a long line of trucks with incredible strength,” Orion answered, “I might not look it, but I’ve inherited a little bit of that. Not that I really use it.”

“So not a manual bot, then?” Megatron asked, “Well nevertheless, maybe you should consider dabbling in the pits.”

“Well, uh, that’s a nice thought, but, uh…” Orion quickly looked for an excuse, “I should actually get to work.”

As Orion walked away, he couldn’t help but overhear Dion telling Megatron, “Don’t worry, he’s just heard all the scary stories. I’ll get you a proper introduction next time. Just trust me, you’ll get along. You’ve got some pretty similar ideas, even if Orion doesn’t share it outside of our apartment.”

---

“You’re playing a dangerous game here on Cybertron, and you need to know the rules before you tick someone off,” Kiloton summarized the situation.

“That feels like an understatement,” Megatron assessed.

“That would be the case, yes.”

The two of them had rented out a small warehouse for planning. Well, rented out was more an excuse, technically they were squatting in it for a bit.

“The way I see it, the companies are the bigger influence on politics. Should we manage to override the system, give the senators some kind of major overruling power compared to the companies, and do this under the radar, we may be able to prevent any major conflict from screwing everything up,” Megatron explained his plan.

“Interesting, but hopelessly naïve,” Kiloton noted, “From what I’ve seen, the companies wouldn’t even have influence if the senators were not too focused on their own comfort.”

“Then how would you fix the system?”

“I’d tear it down, remove the senators, replace them with people that have conviction, and have them kick all outside influence to the curb,” Kiloton replied.

“Now who’s being hopelessly naïve?” Megatron asked.

“Well, it’s clear we’re just spitballing ideas on how to fix the problem,” Kiloton shot back, “But we don’t know what will work.”

“That’s a bit of a problem,” Megatron nodded, “But at least they’re not targeting us as a problem.”

That was when the wall behind him exploded.

As Megatron dove for shelter, two hulking Autotrooper tank types painted in a midnight blue color scheme stood in the hole, and between them, a carbot painted in red, white, and with a three-slitted visor, smoking a cy-garette and smirking.

“Guess our tip was right after all, boys,” the carbot noted, “Time to collect our bounty.”

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 05

Written by Stonecrusher and Nemesis Scar

“So tell me, who’s the kidnapper here?”

Megatron could only remain silent as he assessed the situation. Standing before him, a red-and-white Cybertronian with an obvious groundrunner alt mode, accompanied by two Autotrooper tanks.

“Was it her?” the car asked.

Megatron’s optic turned to his companion, a firetruck bot with a distinctly unfiretruck-esk color scheme, her expression a grim snarl.

“Evening, officer,” Megatron started talking, “What can I do for you today?”

“Ah, just looking for the bot who dragged you from Messatine to this dump,” the carbot answered, “That’s a pretty serious crime, if you ask me.”

“Oh, the guy who kidnapped me?” Megatron shrugged, “Managed to kill him before he could sell me as spare parts on the black market. Poor dude was old as dirt. Turned to dust.”

“Ah, good,” the car bot answered, “But it’s unlikely he thought to take you on his own. So, maybe we can work together and figure out who was behind him.”

“…Alright, full disclosure… the kidnapping was staged,” Megatron smirked, “I needed a cheap trip to Messatine, and after the mine I worked at got blown up in a freak accident, I sure as hell didn’t have the money to leave Messatine legally.”

“And you’re behind the accident, huh?” The carbot asked.

“What?” Megatron blinked, “Why the slag would I destroy my mine? Do you realize how crazy you sound?”

“I do, but you’re a terrible actor.”

“But a great distraction,” Kiloton replied, her back-mounted plasma cannon swinging around and blasting the Autotroopers to bits.

The carbot dodged the shots gracefully.

“Geez, lady, calm down, you could hurt someone with that!”

“In this case, it could be a good thing!” Megatron charged, fist clenched.

His attempted punch did technically connect, but what it hit certainly wasn’t solid. More like gaseous particulate.

Gaseous particulate that could move on its own, and pretty quick, circling around Megatron and reforming behind him.

“Too bad, man, you could’ve been dead on if you didn’t talk in a fight,” the carbot grappled his head, kneeing him in the back.

Megatron winced at this, and the carbot returned to his cloudy form to avoid shots from Kiloton.

“No way no way no way no way,” the carbot hissed in a calm manner, “Your gun can’t counter gas, you knockoff.”

“Go solid and come at me, and you may just find my effectiveness on people I can touch to be enlightening!” Kiloton shouted.

“You’re not good at threatening people, faker, so don’t even try!”

“So, you have an… ability to turn to smoke and still yell at people, huh?” Megatron noted.

“We prefer ‘talent,’” the smoke cloud replied.

“Seems like you’re downplaying a quality unique to you,” Megatron pointed out.

“Hey, better than making it my only identifier like the Functionists do!”

“Did they send you here on their behalf?” Megatron asked.

“Glitch, they’d murder me if they even thought I have a talent,” the gas cloud hissed, “This is Senate business.”

“Does the senate usually send lapdogs?”

Resolidifying to punch Megatron in the face, the car bot snarled.

“I am no bot’s lap dog,” he replied, “This is merely a job.”

“A job you’re getting emotional about,” Megatron replied, “And that’s your error!”

Megatron felt his colors change, taking on a mostly cardinal color with snow-white highlights.

“You’re trying to hide by going with an electronic paint job or something?” the carbot replied.

“Or something.”

Turning to smoke again, the carbot rolled his head, “Geez, you Messatine bots are naïve-“

He was cut off by Megatron grabbing him by the throat. The throat that wasn’t even solid.

“Naïve, yes, but not stupid,” Megatron replied, having become smoke himself.

“You’re… you’re an evaporator as well?!”

“I’m an evaporator. And a freezer. And so much more!” Megatron replied, ramming him into a nearby wall, his smoke scattering everywhere.

Resolidifying, Megatron cracked his neck.

“Gotta admit, being gas was a… strange experience,” Megatron noted.

“Did you… did you kill him?” Kiloton asked.

“Good question, lemme check,” Megatron waved his hands around.

Rather then the normal effect, the smoke of the carbot reformed into a single mass, resolidifying into a very tired whole.

“Ugh…” the carbot groaned, “Geez, you… you hit hard when you can…”

“He’s solid, we can finish the job now,” Kiloton readied her cannon.

“We could, but we don’t need to,” Megatron approached him, lifting his head up, “He was merely an agent. Following orders from elsewhere. Only those who sent him deserve what you’re planning.”

“You’re being merciful?”

“I’m being pragmatic,” Megatron answered, “Less bullets on the fodder, more on the generals.”

“Well, I’ll be slagged,” the carbot managed to utter, “Guess you’re both tougher and smarter than I thought.”

“That would be the case, yes,” Megatron noted, “You can leave now, and forget this entire situation happened.”

“I could, yeah,” the carbot replied, “Or we could work a deal that’s beneficial to both of us.”

“A deal?” Kiloton asked.

“What’s your name, officer?” Megatron followed up.

“They call me Exhaust,” the carbot smirked.

“What do you have to offer, Exhaust?”

---

“Can you repeat what you just said?”

“It’s quite simple, really. I figure that you must’ve read up on some fighting techniques in your time, right?”

“I admit I might’ve.”

“So, might as well put your knowledge to the test.”

Orion looked around the holochamber.

“You sure?”

Ariel smirked.

“Absolutely.”

Orion, seeing no real way out, raised his fists in a combat ready pose.

Ariel, smirk still on, assumed a more graceful one.

Orion was the first to charge. Although his pose was more attuned to a fist-based style, he started with a blunt karate motion.

With graceful precision, Ariel followed with the arc of the arm instead of straight from the elbow to the chest.

Orion quickly moved to parry the strike, but was left stunned at how Ariel reversed the course of his strike, transforming it from a blow that landed directly on his chest to one that deflected it away. His performance was like nothing he had ever seen. Slightly out of breath, Orion was so pleased he couldn't focus on his training anymore.

Ariel wasn’t as impressed.

“Come on, you didn’t even try that time!”

Orion charged again.

Ariel deflected again, this time hefting him over her and to the ground.

“C’mon, stop pretending like you’re gonna hit me and hit me!”

Orion tried to kick at Ariel, but they were imprecise and easily avoided.

“Seriously, dude?”

Orion leaped up and attempted a tackle, which Ariel avoided.

“Whoops!”

Orion turned and tried a punch.

A punch that Ariel soon redirected into him crashing into the ground.

“Was that it?”

“…Yep.”

“You’re not that good at it.”

“Never really tried.”

“Ah well, first time always is flawed, isn’t it?”

“Oh, like you’d know,” Orion smirked, “Miss perfect guard.”

Ariel was struck to silence at first… then began cackling a bit, “Oh, man, your movements may be terrible, but that tongue’s a lethal weapon.”

“If mine’s a lethal weapon, Dion’s packing a weapon of mass destruction!” Orion joked.

“Oh please, I’m sure he’d say the same about you.”

And the two began sharing a laugh.

---

“Senator Codexa, welcome! How can I help you today?”

“I’m here for Termagax.”

“Her… house is down that street over there. Certainly nothing you can miss.”

Codexa’s optics scanned the buildings, until they focused on a singular structure. Unlike the other buildings, square and utilitarian, this building was decorated with designs with a distinct roof, reminding Codexa of a half-rotated Rubix compucube. Atop the building was the statue of a fembot. The figure appeared fragile, in a way that was never either girlish or empty-faced. However, it seemed just a little… inscrutable.

“Ah, ever the standout,” Codexa noted.

---

“Have to admit, I wasn’t sure if you’d let me in,” Codexa noted.

“I don’t get that many visitors these days,” the utilitarian ex-senator replied as she welded together another gadget, “Subsenator Ratbat sometimes skulks around, maybe out of curiosity as to what I do, most likely to know when I’m coming back. Had to detonate a shockdrone to scare him off last time, repugnant little monster.”

“So… out of curiosity, what DO you do?” Codexa asked, “What exactly is this?”

“Whatever I want,” Termagax replied, “Research, observation, passing the time of day, calming my nerves, and so on.”

“I see.”

“So, why are you here?”

“I came for insight,” Codexa gave her answer, “I have questions brought on by recent events, and I believe you may give me the answers I need for them. Do you mind if I ask them?”

“Well, go ahead,” Termagax sighed, “Might break the monotony.”

“You started the Ascention movement, but left after a year in the command of your ward, Kiloton. What ideology did you have, if you could boil it down to something simple?”

“…Boiling it down might be redundant, for the movement’s motive was plain to see in the name,” Termagax replied, “The Ascention movement was to free Cybertron from the shackles of overreaching ideology and capitalistic control, allowing it to ascend to a new age.”

“So, basically, you wanted to throw out capitalist control and separate belief and state,” Codexa noted.

“Both influences that meddle in senate affairs,” Termagax noted, “It’s only gotten worst with Sentinel losing the Matrix.”

“Some would argue that these voices are just as right in the song of politics as any citystate.”

“If any capitalist venture had limitless power, it’d have its workers continue to work on its interest until they died on their feet,” Termagax noted, “As for the ideological movement, well, power can be a revealing influence.”

“You worry for the Mistress of Flame’s far-reaching power?”

“Her power is unearned, but she’s static in its use. I merely regard her with caution. I worry more for other, more… proactive ideologies.”

“The Functionist Council being an example?”

“Yeah, those guys.”

“…Are you open for more questions, if I may ask?”

“I have answered three of your questions, so it is only fair if I ask three of my own. May I?”

“If it makes you comfortable,” Codexa replied, bracing herself.

“Is the Age of Expansion celebrated rather than scorned?” Termagax asked, “Have they made any attempts to find the Ores of Desolation? Has Sentinel Prime become any less of an miserable grind since I left the council?”

“…Unfortunately, all those have the same answer of ‘no,’” Codexa replied.

“Mmm. Pity,” Termagax sighed, “You may ask any more questions freely, for those were the only ones on my mind.”

“…There are rumors that the bot that wrote the book you based your ideology on, Toward Peace, has arrived on Cybertron,” Codexa began, “What would be the course of action you would take if that proved to be the case?”

“…Megatron may have written the book that guided my mindset,” Termagax noted, “But his is a lot less forgiving of error. And I fear that if he’s gotten to this world and gotten any degree of the power he needs, there is only one course of action possible.”

“What would that be?”

“Take a page from custom-builds when a Functionary is in the area. Run away. And hope he doesn’t deem you worth chasing.”

---

"Good night, Dion," he heard one of his fellow announcers call as he walked out the entrance. Waving, he transformed and drove out. His usual route to the teleportation station - he tended to vary it to throw off any followers. As far as he knew, he was pretty much safe...

A delusion broken quickly when he came across the Functionary cordon. Transforming into robot mode, he skidded to a halt, sparks flying up into the air as he did so. He couldn’t go to ground - not now. There were way too many Functionary optics on him right now. He would have to talk his way through, try as he might. To fail to convince them to let him past would mean...well, he didn’t want to think too hard about that.

"Evening, officer!" Dion called out, "Sorry, seems I might've walked into the wrong alleyway-"

“Citizen! Approach for interrogation!!” One of the Functionaries, a gruff, large ‘mech, barked at him. “At once, Citizen!”

He was the epitome of that class, a muscular ground vehicle body-type covered in navy blue plate with rippled gold shoulderpads. In his left, green-gloved hand, he held a oil-black cinderblock of a handgun. Dion recognized the type from its silhouette. Two dorsal magazines and two ventrals. The Lawgiver, it was called by the underclasses.

Sheepishly, Dion approached. “Yes, officer? How may I help you?” He made his best effort to seem deferential. Autotroopers were utilized by the council as peacekeepers and security detail. In Kaon, they mostly ignored the Gladiatorial Arena as in spite of their illegal nature, they served as a cultural centerpoint and a means of blowing off steam. Functionaries, however, didn’t care if the Senate tolerated it. If the Functionist Council saw fit, these sadists would execute the law - literally.

“This cordon was set up to catch gladiators and other criminals, Terror.” One of the other Functionaries, a femme bearing the shield-badge of the Psi Division of the Functionaries, spoke up. There was a strange, otherworldly air to her, and Dion noticed that her feet were floating a few inches off of the ground. “This one doesn’t look the type. I could probe him if you wish.”

“None of your superstitious mumbo-jumbo, Cassandra.” Terror growled back at his partner. “I can smell the scent of crime,” He asserted. “Sniff it out. This one stinks with i - ”

A shot rang out in the dark, and the night lit up with a muzzle flash. Sniper fire whizzed past the larger of the two Functionaries’ heads. Terror crouched down in a split-second, swearing under his breath.

“Attero dominatus!” A loud voice rang out through the night. He recognized the slogan - it was that of the Rise, a group of anti-government dissidents known for extreme tactics. “Destroy tyranny!”

“Citizen! Get down! Now,” He continued. Though he couldn’t see the Functionary’s optics behind his visor, he could hear the tone of his voice. It was softer, somehow. “Get out of here!”

Now was his chance, Dion thought to himself. He did as he was told. Transforming, he drove off, burning rubber. All the while, stray gunshots from both the Functionaries and their assailants filled the air.

As he departed, though, none noticed the figure watching from the shadows.

"Commander Quake, it seems that our ally has made his getaway. Keep the Functionaries occupied ten more breems, then break it off... but make it look convincing."

"At once, Comrade!"

---

Decoed once more in his red-and-white colors, Megatron continued to struggle with his newfound powers of evaporation.

“Try not to force it too much, kid,” Exhaust noted, “Turning to smoke is easy, but turning back is a bit of a struggle.”

“Why is that?” Kiloton asked.

“Well, it’s a matter of solid self-identity,” Exhaust explained, “And that’s something not very common. Evaporation is a talent that not very many bots have, and to regain solidity, one has to have a clear understanding of who they are.”

“In that case, who are you?”

“A simple bot. Distinct color scheme of red accented with white. Love for cygarettes like nobot’s business. And a central idea of making sure the customer’s happy and content.”

“You say that, but you’ve turned on your client.”

“I fed them some bullshit about how my target fell into a mineshaft and is likely dead. They don’t waste resources verifying. I get the money. And I get to see just where Megsy is going with this,” Exhaust clarified, “Of course, all the lying goes nowhere if Megatron ends up stuck in smoke mode forever, but I wouldn’t complain too much on… that…”

Megatron did assume a solid shape again. One that looked like the one he started in… mostly, but Exhaust noticed a cannon similar in design to the Tank Autotrooper’s arm blasters.

“This how you see yourself, Megs?”

“Can be,” Megatron answered.

“Y’gotta be careful. Taking on a new form could corrupt your mind like nobody’s business.”

“Yes, well… every weapon has its recoil,” Megatron noted, reassuming his original body, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t use it. You just have to know how.”

“Y’sure about that?”

“Trust me, Exhaust,” Megatron smiled, “I’m a quick learner.”

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 06

By Devaron09

The Sharkticon’s Gullet. A seedy old bar in the southern blocks of Pescus Hex, surrounded by beaten up old houses, and streets littered with Engex cans, discarded wrappers and the occasional singing drunkard. This would most assuredly not be Orion Pax’s first choice of bar, even if he did like bars. But Megatron had requested they meet up here specifically, and Dion had been eager to come. He wasn’t sure why Megatron wanted to meet so far out of their way, but Orion figured it’d just be nice to catch up. As he waited in a small booth, he watched Dion unsuccessfully try to flex to a pair of colossal female Dinobots. As the two Dinobots laughed and walked off, Dion returned to the table, taking a large swig from his glass as he sat down.

“Honestly, they don’t know what they’re missing” Dion said as he sat down.

“In hindsight, maybe trying to show off your strength to a pair of Dinobots wasn’t your best avenue of choice” stated Orion, stirring his non-alcoholic Engex with his finger.

“Thanks for the advice, Mr Lurrrrrrv” chuckled Dion, putting his glass on the table. “With that expertise, I’m surprised you haven’t given that security guard at your job a key to our apartment.”

Orion's face turned bright red at the mention of his colleague. He tried to look elsewhere, anywhere to avoid eye contact with his friend, before settling at staring at a Bufflaloid and a Skunticon playing darts in the corner.

“Ariel and I are j-just colleagues with a friendly relationship-” Orion stuttered, then corrected himself before Dion could jump in. “Friendly, working relationship. It’s strictly professional. Anyway, why did Megatron  want to meet here?”

“Smooth subject change” Dion said, giving Orion a playful bomp. “Apparently his work’s been taking him places. I bumped into him and one of his ‘colleagues’ while they were doing some recruiting in the dockland sector of Iacon. Turns out he was another pit fighter who I’ve yet to run into, Lugnut. Terrifying guy. He’s colossal, and his eye looks like it’s scanning every bit of you. And those massive claws... I don’t wanna get on the wrong end of them.”

“Yes, well Lugnut does like to create a presence” came a familiar voice.

The charcoal form of Megatron squeezed into the booth besides Orion, nuding the table as he sat down.

“Apologies for being late, I had a… meeting that overrun” Megatron apologised. “I also have to apologise that I won’t be staying long, got to see someone, and they prefer punctuality. Anyway, how has work been treating you two?”

“It’s been alright” said Orion, returning to stirring his drink with his finger. “Alpha’s been keeping me busy with various information compiling jobs.”

“The docks are going to shit” said Dion, taking another swig of his drink. “My supervisor’s stopped turning up to work, and there’s talk of phasing us out for CC’s.”

“Yes, well that’s the sort of thing we aim to change” Megatron stated. “Have any of them read Towards Peace? Perhaps they would be interested in joining our movement.”

Dion sighed, finishing his glass, before putting it down on the table.

“They’ve read it, and a lot of them do agree with what it says, it’s just… they’re scared of the repercussions. They worry that they’ll be giving the bigwigs a reason to replace them if they, I dunno, strike or protest.”

“Yeah…” said Megatron, giving a long, hard sigh. “It’s the main obstacle we’ve been running into. In the pits, they’re fighters, they’re prepared to punch people in the face if they dare even look at them funny, but at the end of the day that's a small percentage of the people we’re trying to reach.”

“Well, once you get some steam and a larger following, people will probably be more secure to join up with you, knowing how many others are standing alongside them” said Orion, bringing up a holographic chronometer. “Give it time, and they’ll- OH SKRUD!”

“Orion, for the love of Primus just say scrap, or frag, or something normal” Dion groaned at his friend’s attempt to curse. “We’re all grown ups, no-one’s gonna tell on you to your old headteacher.”

“We’re late for work!” panicked Orion, climbing over Megatron. “Ohhhhh, Alpha won’t be happy!”

Orion climbed out of the booth, bolting out the door in a hurry. Dion shrugged at Megatron, before standing up out of the booth.

“I’d better go after him and calm him, otherwise he’ll be a wreck before he gets to work” Dion said. “Hoped to stay a little long, with no super, but I think you’ve started to know him.”

“Then he’ll need these” Megatron replied, picking up some files from where Orion had sat.

“Heh, thanks, I’ll get them back to him” chuckled Dion. “Not good for an archivist, eh? Anyway, sorry to bail on you, but it’s been a pleasure as always. Maybe next time we should try for Orion’s day off.”

Dion gave Megatron a two-finger salute, before bolting out the door to give chase to his panicked friend. Megatron looked back at the table, where Orion’s glass was still full. Megatron picked it up and took a swig, before spewing the whole mouthful out.

“Bleh, non-alcoholic Engex” Megatron said in disgust. “Orion, you’re nice, but frankly your taste in drinks is absolutely terrible.”

With that, Megatron stood up from the table and left the bar, heading to his next appointment.

---

A short walk away from the bar, Megatron walked past a seeming disused storeyard. Coming up to one of the rusted warehouses, Megatron looked around, then rapped his clenched fist against its metal door in a particular rhythm. After a few seconds, the door slid open with a loud screech, and Megatron entered. The door screeched shut behind him, and Megatron stepped forward. There were a number of individuals in the room, some he recognised, some he didn’t. Exhaust stood behind Megatron, standing at the door controls, while Soundwave and Lugnut turned from a trio of new bots, who Megatron could vaguely recognise from his own experiences in the pits.

“Megatron” Soundwave greeted in his cold voice. “New recruits: acquired.”

Soundwave first gestured to a hulking dark green Cybertronian, with a muzzled tank barrel attached to his back. He stepped forward, and nodded at Megatron.

“Designation: Brawl.”

“Lemme know if you need me to bust some heads” said Brawl. “I’ve been itching to for ages, especially since they won’t let me into the Defense Corp.”

“Well, for now fighting will be unnecessary provided the Cybertronian government don’t respond to our movement with violence” replied Megatron. “But I appreciate the support all the same.”

Next, Soundwave gestured to blue and orange Primatoid, who sported a massive construction scoop arm. He clenched his scoop arm, engulfing it in amber flames.

“Designation: Groundpounder” stated Soundwave. “Classification: Pyrokinetic.”

“A pyrokinetic” said Megatron, staring curiously at the flaming scoop. “I’ve heard Cybertronians with pyrokinesis are rather reliable to have on your side.”

“Send me in the direction of a group of Autotroopers, and I can really show you reliable” grinned Groundpounder.

Finally, Soundwave gestured to the last of the new arrivals, a tall, black, blocky individual with two red optic bars in lieu of a face. The Cybertronian immediately knelt down and tilted their head down.

“Designation: Blackwall” Soundwave stated, looking down at the Cybertronian. “Classification: Hyper Durable.”

“My Lord Megatron!” yelled Blackwall. “I swear undying loyalty to you and the cause, now and forever.”

Though Megatron was amused by this show of loyalty, though behind him, Lugnut was not. He clenched his claws and scowled, glaring at Blackwall. Next to him, Exhaust simply rolled his eyes at having to deal with yet another sycophant. Megatron then turned to Soundwave.

“What of Grindor?” Megatron asked. “Has he made any progress with his own recruitment?”

“Current status: Recruiting fighters in Tesarus” Soundwave responded. “Potential recruits: Overcharge. Overkill. Slugfest. Lowload. Irontread. Utilisation of unconventional tactics.”

“Unconventional tactics?”

“Basically he’s buying them drinks to get them on side” Exhaust explains. “Just as sign of comradeship, not just trying to get them drunk enough to agree to it.”

“Can we afford that?” questioned Megatron.”I know we don’t exactly have a budget, but surely we can’t do this for everyone we try to recruit?”

“Relax, Grindor’s gone to his old local, the Greasy Axel. The bartender knows him.”

“So he gets it discounted?”

“Nope! The bartender knows that if he doesn’t agree to free drinks, he’ll lose more money when Grindor starts a bar fight that wrecks the joint. It gets results.”

Megatron let out a deep sigh, and sat down on a crate.

“I’m glad we are recruiting, but it's a slow process” Megatron stated. “People are still scared to come out against the government and their corruption. They’re frightened. A friend said once we get numbers, we will see an exponential rise, but there has to be a way to do it quicker.”

“Well…” began Exhaust. “If we need quick numbers, I might be able to make a suggestion.”

“Go on…”

“Well, there are those who might be interested in joining if we provide them some…. Incentive. They might not be quite as savoury as you like, but they’ll be able to provide a substantial amount of members quickly. Then, once your readers see us with numbers, they’ll flock to us.”

“And what do you suggest we incentivise them with” said Megatron.”Primus knows we don’t have the shannix, and promising them power would be undoing the change we hope to make.”

“Oh, that bit is easy” says Exhaust. “Explain it like an investment, and if they help us it’ll be worth it in the end. Say that by the end of it, you’ll give them immunity, or a colony for themselves. Then when you’re done and dusted, just lock ‘em back up and say that we now know they were out for their own ends and put ‘em behind bars.”

Megatron looked at Soundwave, who stroked the chin of his faceplate. After a few moments of silence, Soundwave spoke up.

“Suggestion: Some potential” he stated. “Moderate chance of success.”

“Hrrm… who do you suggest we should visit, Exhaust?” Megatron asked, musing the idea. 

“Well, I have worked for potential groups and syndicates that you could visit” Exhaust said. “I still have communications channels to Cryotek, Sky Shadow, Stonecrusher and Razorpaw, though the latter won’t do much help since Cryotek absorbed his syndicate and left Razorpaw to fend for himself. I might also be able to pull a few strings with some drinking buddies on Khoros and see if I can find out if Straxus and Psykill got contact channels, see if their syndicates are still in the game.”

Having been watching silently since his introduction, Brawl stepped forward and raised his hand up.

“Look, I’m generally not the smartest of guys, but a few of those I vaguely recognise from the Combatron Days” Brawl stated. “Maybe ye can appeal to ‘em with a bit of amnesty. I doubt Guard Convoy or the Senate’s offered it to them, so maybe offering it’ll get ‘em on side?”

Megatron looked a little surprised at the tank bots suggestion, but couldn’t deny that it had substance to it. Standing up, he looked at Soundwave and nodded.

“Yes… that could work” he said. “Good thinking, Brawl.”

Brawl blushed beneath his faceplate at the compliment, as both Lugnut and Blackwall glared at him, now seeing another perceived rival for Megatron’s favour. Soundwave looked at the ground, then back to Megatron, something playing on his mind.

“With new directions: Another potential avenue” stated Soundwave, thoughtfully.

“Oh?” Megatron said, curiously. “Do tell?”

“Potential ally: former senator” Soundwave stated. “Official released statement by senate: ‘voluntary sabbatical until further notice’. His goals plus our goal: correlate. Method: change within the senate. Absence from public eye: Potentially removed by other senators. May however still hold political sway over constituents: further potential allies.”

“And do you know what this senator may be?” asked Megatron.

“Potential leads: One. Will investigate with haste.”

“Good. Lugnut and I will begin investigating Exhaust’s suggested allies” says Megatron. “Exhaust, I suggest you take Brawl and find your own leads on Straxus and Psykill. Perhaps you should also see if they know any other groups that can aid us. Blackwall, Grounderpounder, I suggest you return to the pits and continue your regular routines till I contact you.”

“We will not let you down, my Lord!” announced Blackwall with a salute.

Exhaust reopened the door to the warehouse, and he watched Blackwall and Groundpounder depart, then followed them himself with Brawl, leaving Megatron, Soundwave and Lugnut in the room.

“Well, I wish you the best of luck, Soundwave” Megatron said.

“Luck: Unnecessary” Soundwave replied. “Critical recommendation: Exercise extreme caution. Potential for capture by syndicates.”

“I’ll be careful” Megatron replied. “Plus, they’re dealing with two pit fighters. They won’t get us.”

“Acknowledged” stated Soundwave. “Enacting departure.”

Soundwave stepped outside of the warehouse, then shifted into his Jet mode, flying skywards, before disappearing behind the opposite city. Lutnut and Megatron finally stepped out, and Megatron reached his arm to hit the close switch for the door. As the door screeched shut behind them, Lugnut looked at Megatron.

“What are your orders, my most glorious Lord Megatron?” asked Lugnut, clearly riled by Blackwall.

“Just, erm, Megatron will do” corrected Megatron. “And now we get to work!”

---

Orion rushed into archives, almost tripping on the stairs as he ran through, all the while scooting by his colleagues and those browsing the archives. Thankfully for Orion, Ariel was taking a few days off, so she wasn’t going to say, and Alpha was nowhere in sight. Finally arriving at his desk, he sat down, breathing a sigh of relief, and clipped in his headset. Putting his files on his desk as the familiar voice of the AI greeted him yet again. Settled in, Orion began logging into his terminal to begin work.

“Not like you to be late, Orion?” came a familiar voice.

Orion’s jumped in his chair in a panic, before slowly turning around to face the owner of the voice. Standing behind him was Alpha Trion, his arms folded.

“I, um, I didn’t see you, I, umm, sorry” Orion spluttered. “I was meeting a friend a way away, they were later, meaning I was late, then the intercity shuttles took ages, and there was a conjunx endura ceremony taking up my usual route, and they were doing repairs on the main road, and…”

Alpha cracked a smile at Orion’s attempt to explain things, patting him on the shoulder. Breathing in, Orion adjusted his glasses.

“Calm down, Orion” Alpha said. “It happens to us all. Why I once disappeared for a whole week because of a fascinating discovery on one of the other moons of the gas giant Caminus orbits! Marvelous time, and marvelous company But I digress. Now that you’re here, I need you to compile data on something. ”

“Of course, Alpha Trion, sir” Orion said, a little more at ease now.

“We’ve had a request for data on one of the Convoy’s” Alpha explained, walking around the room. “A research project of Convoys between Talarus and Arch Convoy. Now they’ve got the data they need for all of them, but-”

Orion watched Alpha vanish behind one of the many shelves of data drives filling the archive. He waited patiently for Alpha Trion, a little concerned that Alpha seemed to have walked out of the earshot. Orion stood up from his desk, and walked over to the end of the shelf that Alpha disappeared behind. Peeking round, he couldn’t see Alpha Trion anywhere.

“Can you do that for me” came Alpha’s voice from behind him, yet again startling Orion. “All the information on that particular Convoy. Think you can handle it?”

“I, erm,yes?” Orion timidly said.

“Excellent!” said Alpha Trion, clapping his hands together. “Well, if you’ve got everything handled here, I’ve got a meeting with some records recently found in the scar from Battle Convoy’s era. Mayhaps they will tell us what dug so deeply into Cybertron! Cheerio, Orion!”

With that, Alpha left the room, leaving Orion to bury his hands in his head, with no idea what Convoy he was meant to be pulling data out on. With a heavy sigh, he looked at his terminal’s holographic screen, ready for a long few days' work.

---

The Flash Freeze. The coldest bar on Cybertron. Megatron and Lugnut stood in front of the bar, looking at its front and the thin layer of ice that covered it. The entire block was frozen over, which was peculiar due to it being situated in Teasurus, a city closer to Cybertron’s equator than either of its poles. However, those in the know knew that this was no freak blizzard. This was marked territory. And the pair were about to meet the Cybertronian who had marked it as his own. Megtron and Lugnut stepped into the bar, finding it relatively empty. Inside, the only other people present were a group of four Skunkticons, guzzling tankard after tankard of cheap engex, while another Skunkticon, an Ampiboid and a Winded Rodention were standing around a pool table, angrily bickering with each other, and at the bar, glasses were being washed by a white and blue Cybertronian, with two ice blue tanks of an unknown substance poking out of his back exerting a cold mist into the room. As Megatron and Lugnut walked up to the bar, the white and blue mech looked up to them.

“We’re here to see Cryotek” Megatron said, sitting on one of the stools.

“Never heard of him” said the bartender with a cold, staticky voice.

Megatron frowned as Lugnut attempted to sit on one of the other stools, slowly crushing it with his weight. Megatron folded his arms, and tried again.

“I said we’re here to see Cryotek” Megatron repeated. “We arranged a meeting. Ask Exhaust.”

“And I told you, we don’t know no Cryotek” the bartender said again, more aggressively than before. “Nor do we know no Exhaust. Now if you’re not ordering, I’ll have to ask you to-”

The bartender stopped abruptly, and raised his hand to his audio receptor. After a few moments of silence, he returned his attention to Megatron and Lugnut.

“Apologies” stated the bartender. “The boss will see you now. If you’ll follow me.”

The bartender lifted the bar flap to allow Megatron and Lugnut through as the pair stood up, he looked at the crumpled stool Lugnut stood up from, muttering something to himself, before turning to a door in the corner. Taking some bottles off a nearby shelf, uncovered an optic scanner and stared into it. After a few seconds, there was a click, and the door unlatched. The bartender led them through the door and down a series of stairs. Reaching the bottom, they found themselves in a basement the size of a large warehouse. There were crates everywhere, and Megatron hazarded to guess what was in them were a lot more dangerous than Engex deliveries. Various Cybertronians were hanging around, some stacking crates, some simply observing the newcomers, and some of them armed with weapons that certainly weren’t used by the Cybertron Defense Corp. However, all of them were wearing poncho’s, none of them used to the extreme cold of this establishment. Passing through the large basement, the bartender led them to a doorway with the name “Cryotek” engraved to it. The bartender clanged his fist against the door to announce his present.

“Enter” came a gruff voice from within.

The bartender opened the door, and stood to the side as Megatron and Lugnut entered. The room was a large office, with plexiglass cabinets on either side containing various treasures, including antique weaponry, battle masks, and ornate endoskeleton skulls from various rare mechanimals, including some Megatron believed were recently extinct. At the far end of the room was a large, draconic mech sitting at a desk, typing on a holographic screen, whom Megatron figured was Cryotek. To Cryotek’s side was a dark green orange mech, clearly guarding Cryotek. Much like his allies outside, this mech was wearing a poncho.

“Your guests, sir” said the bartender.

“Very good” replied Cryotek. “You may go, Lodowiec.”

The bartender nodded, then left the room, shutting the door behind him. Cryotek stood up from his desk, and stretched his wings out. Dwarfing Megatron and standing as tall as Lugnut, he walked around his desk and towards Megatron till he was staring down at him.

“And who are you supposed to be?” Cryotek said, breathing out icy clouds every time he opened his mouth.

“He is Lord Megatron, the leader who will bring a new age of unity to Cybertron” yelled Lugnut.

“Was I asking you?” scowled Cryotek, before turning back to Megatron, looking him up and down. “You don’t look like much of a leader. What do you think, Backslash?”

“Look pretty weak” said the guard by Cryotek’s desk. “Reckon anything he’s got planned’ll be stopped dead in the snow.”

“So what do you want, oh glorious Megatron” Cryotek grinned. “Why do you come to me?”

“What I want is for you to aid us” said Megatron. “I want to change Cybertron for the better, removing the corrupt government ruling over the Commonwealth. With your, help we can do that!”

“Lofty goals” said Cryotek, stroking his chinplate. “But why on Cybertron would I help you? What’s in it for me?”

“If you help us change Cybertron, we can provide you with immunity” Megatron said. “No trouble from the new government.”

Cryotek returned to his desk, and lounged back into his seat, resting his legs on the desk and resting his arms on the back of his head.

“Maybe I’m content as is” Cryotek said, leaning back. “I can pay off whatever cops come across us, I got multiple boltholes, and if anyone were to be stupid enough to try to blackmail me, Backslash here’ll cut you down before you’ve even turned around. Just saying.”

“You dare refuse an offer from-” Lugnut began yelling, before Megatron raised his hand to quiet him.

“You can keep dodging the law, but you won’t be able to do it forever” Megatron stated. “One day you’ll trip up. At least this way you’ll get guaranteed security, if you aid us.”

Cryotek sat up straight and frowned. He thought for a moment, then spoke.

“Backslash is right. You don’t seem like much. You have nothing to prove your strength.”

Megatron was taken back by this. He wasn’t expecting his strength to be called into question, figuring the promise of immunity would be enough to get Cryotek on side. He needed something, quickly.

“GRARGH!” roared Lugnut, shaking his clenched claws at Cryotek. “Lord Megatron is one of the finest fighters ever produced! He could wipe the floor with anyone sent at him.”

“Ya see, boss!” exclaimed Backslash. “He needs his big thick babysitter to defend him!”

“Well, if you really think that, perhaps we’ll have to prove you wrong” said Megatron. “Do you know of the Lacero Pit?”

“Kaon, correct?” answered Cryotek. “I know of it from some of my enforcers.”

“If you really wish to see how formidable, I invite you to watch the finest of Cybertron show their strength in the pits” Megatron said. “No holds barred. Two weeks time.”

Cryotek stroked his chin plate again, intrigued. Looking between Megatron and Lugnut, he smiled.

“Very well,” Cryotek replied. “I will. It will be interesting to see if you’re as strong as you and your oversized grunt say you are.”

“Excellent,” said Megatron. “I’ll have my people send your people the coordinates and exact times. A pleasure meeting you, Cryotek.”

“Likewise.”

And with that, Lugnut and Megatron departed out the door, leaving Cryotek and Backslash alone in the room.

“You sure this is a good idea?” questioned Backslash. “Could be a sting. Or a takeover.”

“Well, it’s either free entertainment” smirked Cryotek. “Or he’ll just have to learn about our strength.”

In his hand, Cryotek formed an icicle, clenching it like a blade. Backslash grinned gleefully at the sight, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“And he’ll learn what happens to those who doublecross us.”

Meanwhile, Megatron and Lugnut exited the bar and return to the frozen streets. Lugnut seemed a little confused as they made their way to their next destination.

“You look confused, Lugnut” Megatron said.

“I just was not aware we were hosting any fighting events” Lugnut said, scratching his head. “I had not been informed.”

“Well, we weren’t until now” replied Megatron. “But we needed to keep Cryotek interested, and if a show of power is required, then it’s our best method. You’d better contact Kiloton, see if she can swing something with Lacero. And tell Blackwall, Brawl, Groundpounder and hopefully Grindor’s buddies to prepare for a fight in two weeks.”

“Of course my lord, I shall contact them enroute” Lugnut said. “Speaking of, who's next my lord?”

Megatron pulled out a datapad, tapping the screen and swiping his fingers till he came to another set of co-ordinates.

“Well, our next stop is one ‘Stonecrusher’” Megatron said. “Exhaust co-ords put his meeting place in the dockyards, in an old admin office. Let’s go!”

“For glory!” yelled Lugnut.

“Maybe a little more quietly” said Megatron.

With that, the two continued to their next destination, hoping to expand their cause further.

---

It was late. The streets of Carpessa were quiet, only illuminated by the streetlamps. On one of the buildings, Soundwave patiently waited for who he was waiting to speak with. He had briefly mused scanning one of the streetlights, but decided that people would notice a new streetlight, and there was nowhere to hide one without it drawing attention. 

After a few more hours, he finally spotted his target. A purple treadcrawler vehicle drove through the streets at pace, quickly turning off into an alleyway. Not wishing to lose his target, Soundwave used his thrusters to slowly descend to street level, before walking across the street and peering around the corner. 

The treadcrawler drove towards a chain link fence, the chains simply rattling over the top of it, before changing form at a side door. The resulting mech was tall and lanky, with sharp claws on both hands, It crouched down, getting the bottom pairs of claws under the door, and lifting the door up with immense force. The mech then entered, the door slamming behind it with a loud crash. 

Waiting a few seconds to ensure the mech didn’t come back, Soundwave followed the mech through the alley, flying over the chain fence, and coming to the door. The door did seem to have a palm scanner, however it had been slashed, likely by the mechs claws. Fortunately, it was still intact enough for Soundwave to hack. A single tendrill slithered from Soundwave’s back, and clamped onto the damage scanner.

“Commencing hack” Soundwave stated to himself as he broke through the locks on the door.

After a few seconds, the door slid open, and Soundwave stepped through. The room he entered was a hall, with metal columns throughout the room. The walls and floors had energon smeared across them, and random mechanisms littered the floor. Soundwave walked into the next room, where equations were scratched into the wall. There were tables around the wall with contraptions littered across them. The mech he had followed was straight ahead of him, working at one of these tables.

“You were detected before you detected me” stated the mech. “There is a talent dampening field in effect, if you wish to attack me.”

The mech gestured upwards, and Soundwave looked up to the ceiling. Above them was a jury-rigged device made of various other technologies. Looking at it, Soundwave recognised parts from a portable shield generator and an inhibitor claw. He then returned his gaze to the mech.

“Intention: Non-Violent” Soundwave stated. “Designation: Soundwave. Mission: Recruitment.”

“Recruitment?” questioned the mech, still working at the table, not giving Soundwave a glance. “I have no intention of joining any groups. My only cause is science.”

“Cause: Revolution” Soundwave coldly said. “Revolution: Betterment of Cybertron. Expulsion of Corruption. Parallels noted to your purpose.“

The mech stopped working on the device in front of him, and growled. He was silent for a few moments.

“Science is my purpose” the mech bitterly stated. “You are thinking of someone else.”

“Negative: You are on and the same individual” Soundwave stated. “Senator Shockwave.”

“I AM NO SENATOR!!!”

The mech whipped round, glaring at Soundwave with a single red optic. The mech was shivering with anger, and in his optic Soundwave could see a rage like no other.

“The senate… are fools” Shockwave growled. “They see only themselves.”

“Observation: Similar verdicts” Soundwave stated. “Mission: Remove Senate from power. Endgame: Save Cybertron.”

Shockwave looked down, before turning around to continue with his work. Soundwave took a few steps to the side to see past Shockwave’s, and identify what he was working on. On the table was a strange forearm, yet in place of a hand, it seemed to have some sort of port. Next to it lay what looked like the barrel of a gun, with a plug that looked to fit the port. Shockwave grabbed the barrel, and plugged it into the forearm.

“The people of Cybertron don’t deserve saving” Shockwave stated. “It is… logical.”

Shockwave turned around to face Soundwave, and grabbed onto his own forearm. Soundwave watched as Shockwave pulled on his arm, ripping it out, and allowing Energon to stream onto the floor. Shockwave simply tossed his severed arm to the floor, never breaking Soundwave’s gaze.

“Unless you are going to contribute to the cause of science, I suggest you leave, Soundwave” Shockwave snarled.

“Acknowledged.”

As Shockwave turned to attach the new blaster arm, Soundwave departed, musing what his next move would be…

---

Dion twisted and turned on his recharge pad. It was late, he had done a long day of dockwork, loading crates onto carriers while also compensating for his missing supervisor. And yet Orion was still up, tapping furiously on his datapad and muttering loudly to himself. 

“Oh for PRIMUS SAKE” Dion yelled, finally fed up.

He unhooked himself from his recharge pad, and stormed towards the door, kicking away the various objects he had piled against the bottom of the door to stop the light from pouring through the crack at the bottom and opened the door. Coming into their living space, Dion found Orion sitting cross legged on their couch, surrounded by multiple holographic screens, with the same still glass of non-alcoholic Engex sitting on the table that was there when Dion went to recharge.

“ORION PAX!” Dion yelled, at the end of his tether, causing Orion to fall off the couch. “WHY ARE YOU STILL AWAKE?”

“I, um, well I have a lot of work that I really need to get through” Orion tried to explain. “And it’s a big project in that’s needed in a few days, and-and-and-”

Dion groaned, and simply walked over to the couch, and grabbed the computer core from Orion’s hands, the cords pulled out of the socket and he picked it up.

“Nonono wait!” begged Orion, pulling himself off of the floor.

Dion walked back to his room with the core, then stood in front of the door.

“You get this back when you recharge, Orion,” Dion said. “Because A: I want a good night’s rest after a stressful day, and B: I don’t want you dropping cos you didn’t recharge, okay?”

“Okay…”

“Good” Dion said. “G’night Orion.”

“Night Dion” Orion relented as his friend went into his room, and the door shut behind him.

Orion mopily walked to his room, opening the door, and plugging himself in as thoughts raced through his head about his work, and the deadlines, and the fact he couldn’t even ask Alpha what he said. Orion sighed, and tried to drift off.

---

Some days had passed since they began their recruitment drive, and Megatron had multiple successes in convincing various syndicates to attend his little arena event. So far they had managed to invite Cryotek, Stonecrusher, Straxus and Psykill, but also attracted the attention of several smaller groups including Deathsaurus and Scorponok. However this last individual had proved harder to find, in spite of Exhaust saying he had his comms channel. 

Finally tracking him down to a spaceport in Triax, Megatron approached a colossal cruiser in one of the city’s docks. Though he couldn’t be sure, Megatron believed it to be a Goliath-Class cruiser that had been demilitarised, though given the owner, it was likely there were still some concealed armaments. The ship was coated in black, with red detailing, matching the colours of its owner.

“Are you sure it’s worth approaching his group, my lord?” Lugnut questioned as they walked past several smaller ships parked alongside it. “I hear rumours the leader of this syndicate consorted with an Autobot. They could betray us.”

“I too have heard similar rumours, Lugnut” Megatron stated. “Though as I understand, there have been little changes with his operations. I assume he’s keeping work and consorting apart from whoever it is, so we should be safe.”

“If you say so, Lord Megatron” Lugnut replied.

“So…” came a voice from above. “You’re the famous Megatron.”

Megatron and Lugnut looked up, and saw a blue mech standing atop one of the ships they were passing. The mech leaped down from the ship and onto the ground in front of the pair, pointing a blaster pistol at the two.

“You knew we were coming, hmm?” questioned Megatron. “Peculiar, given you’ve changed your comms channel.”

“We always wipe comms channels after a job” the blue mech said. “It’s better for business. But we have people to find out things for others. We heard about you making the rounds since Tesarus, so we figured you’d be coming here.”

“And yet you seem to loading your ships” Lugnut stated, observing crates being loaded onto the ships. “Running scared of us? Seems you’re a bit too late to avoid us.”

“Scared?” Of you? Nah, we figured we’d give you a chance to speak your piece, then load out on the off chance you’d give us up to the Defense Corp. Gotta be safe.”

“Hence pointing the blaster pistol at us?” replied Megatron

“Hence pointing the blaster at you. Now come on, don’t want to keep the boss waiting.”

The blue mech gestured for the pair to walk towards one of the ramps onto the large Goliath. The pair obliged, and the blue mech followed them up the ramp and through the ship's corridors. Eventually, they came to a large metal door, guarded by a pair of black and red mechs.

“Dreadnought, Ominus, the boss’ guests are here” said the blue mech.

The taller of the mechs turned around and placed her palm on a scanning pad. The door slid open, and Megatron, Lugnut and the blue mech entered. The room was empty, save for a viewport letting in light, and a tall mech leaning against it. He was large, with two pronounced wings along his shoulders, either shoulder. As he moved away from the window, his black and red colour scheme became visible.

“Brought your guests, boss” said the blue mech.

“Thanks Bacchus” said the mech. “I think we can holster the blaster. I mean, if he used the small one as fodder, the big one could’ve probably overpowered you by now.”

“FODDER!?” yelled Lugnut. “HOW DARE YOU IMPLY THAT I WOULD PUT THE MIGHTY MEGATRON INTO HARM’S WAY!”

Megatron silenced Lugnut with a look as Bacchus holstered his blaster. Megatron stepped forward.

“Sky Shadow, I presume?” he asked.

“That would be correct” the black and red mech replied. “And I hear you’re handing out invites to a fight. Why?”

“FOR THE GLORIOUS REVOLUTION!” yelled Lugnut.

“I have no idea how a fighting tournament ties into a revolution” Sky Shadow groaned. “Would you care to elaborate?”

“We are trying to change Cybertron, and with your support we can do that” Megatron stated. “With your help, we can remove the senate from power and install a newer, better system.”

“Curious, curious, and why would I help you do that?”

“Amnesty, protection” said Megatron. “I know a lot of ex-Combatronians and those with Combatronian heritage would love the opportunity to be treated like any other Cybertronian and not hid in the underworld of Cybertron.”

Sky Shadow stroked his chin, musing this proposition.

“And how does this tie into pit fights?” Sky Shadow questioned.

“Those we’ve talked to seem to doubt we have the strength to carry through with our aims” Megatron stated, slamming his fist into an open hand. “This will crush their doubts.”

“Hmmm… I’ll bite” Sky Shadow said. “Though believe me, you won’t like it if we get double crossed.”

“Believe me, that is the last thing we want,” Megatron replied. “I look forward to seeing you in attendance.”

With that, Megatron and Lugnut departed, followed by Bacchus, wishing to ensure they left without any funny business. Alone, Sky Shadow returned to the window and looked out.

“Well, this should be interesting,” he said to himself.

---

Ariel strolled back into the Iacon Archive after taking a few days off. It had been nice to unwind, now it was back to regular life, with her trusty spear and shield at her side. Waving to the usual desk attendant as she passed, she went down stairs to her usual post, and say hi to Orion and Alpha. However, when she entered, she was shocked to find Orion with his face planted into the desk, surrounded by almost a dozen different holographic screens.

“Oh Primus!” she yelled, rushing over to him. “Alpha!”

Rushing to his side, she shook him to try to get a response out of him. One loud snore revealed he was merely asleep. Alpha arrived, surprised to find Orion in this state.

“He’s fast asleep” she said. “What happened while I was gone?”

Alpha looked at Orion’s comatose state, then put on his glasses and looked at Orion’s multiple screens. Alpha sighed as he realised what happened.

“Oh dear” he said. “I fear this may be partially myself.”

“Did you give him a job and wander off while talking again?” Ariel said, frowning at Alpha. “You know he can never bring himself to ask someone to repeat themselves.”

“Apologies” sighed Alpha. “I supposed you’d better get him home. Do you know where it is?”

“Yes, we’ve passed by there” Ariel said. “His orange friend who works at the docks kept nudging him. I’ve no idea why.”

“Good, good” Alpha said. “Make sure you get him in there safely. I’ll finish Orion’s project.”

Ariel picked up Orion from the seat, and began carrying him out of the archives. Watching them leave, Alpha then sat down in Orion’s chair. He looked between the various holographic screens, impressed.

“My word Orion, you have been busy” Alpha said. “One Prime, and somehow you managed to cover all of them from Battle Convoy to Arch Convoy. Very well done, too. You’ll most certainly make one of our finest.”

---

Shockwave worked away at one the tables in the room on another tool for his recently attached forearm. He was distracted from his work by the sound of the door screeching open. Shockwave listened to the footsteps entering the room.

“I told you that I’m not interested in your revolution” Shockwave growled.

The footsteps came closer, before stopping just behind him. A pair of objects flew past Shockwave and landed on the table. Looking at it, Shockwave recognized them as a pair of replacement hands.

“One will suffice” Shockwave said, picking one up with his claws.

“Proposition: reconsideration?” inquired the cold voice of Soundwave.

“I will not join your revolution” Shockwave answered, “But I may show interest in exchanging resources. A mutually beneficial alliance.”

Soundwave pondered this proposition for a few moments.

“Proposition: Acceptable” he stated. “I will inform Megatron.”

“It is the logical decision,” Shockwave said, admiring the new hand.

---

After another day’s work, Dion returned to his apartment. Pulling his keycard out, he was about to unlock the door, when he noticed it was slightly ajar. Nudging it open, he entered the door to the sound of loud snoring. Dion crept in, and found a note on the table in their shared living space. Picking it up, Dion began reading through the note.

“‘Dear Orange Carbot’” Dion began. “That’s nice, don’t know my name. ‘Orion passed out due to overworking himself. Brought him home, plugged him into his recharge pad. Apologies for busting the locks.’”

Dion looked back at the door, and saw broken parts littering the floor. He sighed, thinking of the cost of repair.

“‘Yours, Ariel.’ Welp, at least someone else understands Orion needs to recharge, like every other Cybertronian.”

Dion put the note down and walked towards the door, thinking about sliding the table up against it to keep it shut through the night. As he walked over, he noticed a holoprojector sitting on the table. Dion cautiously reached his finger over and tapped the button to activate it. A hologram of Megatron appeared to Dion.

“Dion, Orion, I invite you to the Lacero Pit in one week to help set up a spectacle in fighting that will hopefully lead to the evolution of our cause” the hologram stated. “In one week, the revolution will grow exponentially. And with it, we will be able to fight for the betterment of Cybertron!”

---

Her vents expelled waste air as her circuits decompressed. Optics facing forward against her felled opponent, the blue femme sighed.

"That time was certainly pleasant to see," the voice caught her attention, "Prep for the next one."

"Mother," She spoke up, "We've been doing 20 in a row. At some point, we need to take some time to decompress, less we wear ourselves thin unnecessarily."

"Better we wear outselves thin then let the bastard that killed your father function," The voice responded, "You want to know why your father is dead?"

"Because he decided to attack an enemy without assessing the actual threat level," She answered.

"Yes," The voice replied, "And he decided not to asses the danger because he got complacent. Because he felt that he didn't need to worry about what an inferior could do."

"I understand!" She spat, "You have made that point the last three times I asked for a moment to catch my breath! And the five I asked yesterday, and the four the day before! What point is there in this training if it ends up killing me, Mother?!"

The voice did not respond immediately.

"...I... I just was-"

"Call me mother, do you?"

She gasped a bit.

"If you went up against him as you are, at this very moment, he wouldn't hesitate to leave you lying in your own blood," The voice spoke again, "Assuming that someone else didn't decided to use your corpse as experiment fodder or a plaything. This applies not only to yourself, but the countless others your enthusiasm would've likely rubbed off on. Idiot see idiot, and idiot do as idiot do."

The images in her mind flashed.

"Our enemies will not rest until they achive their goal, and neither should we," the voice spoke up, "But if you want to rest so badly... maybe I should make a correction as to which of my daughters lies in the sleeping pod."

"DON'T YOU FRACKING DARE!!!" Chromia swung her arm forward, pointed at the window. At that instant, cerulean ice particles immediately expanded and broke through the protective barriers keeping her mother safe, just barely glazing her.

A still moment.

"Snowflake. Stays. Asleep," Chromia spat, "I. Handle. The problem."

Another still moment... only interrupted by a cold chuckle.

"Well..." the current head of House Winter smirked at the sight, "Where has THIS Chromia been, all this time...?"

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 07

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea, Dion,” Orion made his opinion known.

“Why not? I mean, would it not be rude to turn down an invite?” Dion asked.

“In one week, our revolution will grow exponentially,” Orion replied, “That’s a quote from the invite. Sounds to me like he’s planning something that bodes ill.”

“He did say he’s seeking out the betterment of Cybertron.”

“And the Functionists do too,” Orion noted, “And everyone hates those guys on an intrinsic level.”

“Yeah, but those guys are nuts,” Dion replied.

“So is everyone else in someone else’s eyes,” Orion replied back.

“...So, what did you have planned that could beat this?” Dion asked.

Orion answered with silence, pondering possible answers…

“You don’t have anything.”

“Shut up,” Orion snapped back.

“Look, we’ll just swing by real quick, see a few guys beat each other to rivets, grab a handful of energon chips and blow out of there,” Dion proposed, “That way you can have plausible deniability, okay?”

“...Fiiiiiiine,” Orion answered.

“Alright, so… meet me at the teleport station after work?” Dion asked.

“Unless I change my mind,” Orion replied.

“Thanks, roomie!” Dion smirked, “You won’t regret it!”

Orion knew he would regardless.

---

The week passed without incident, and without giving Orion a reason to stay behind. He knew that even if he tried claiming that something came up, Dion would annoy his superiors for information and risk Orion being punished. It happened before, it could happen again, and he was not going to risk a repeat.

After clocking out that day, Orion rolled his way to the teleport station… unaware of his trail being followed.

“Enforcer Ariel, Log 57 - subject has taken a route atypical, heading for downtown Iacon. Tracking now.”

Ariel had been assigned this duty to keep an eye on Orion - why was a question she often pondered but never had the nerve to ask. But up until now, his actions had been… ordinary, normal.

Up until he went to the teleportation station and met the orange carbot.

“So you did come after all!” Dion smiled, “Glad to see it!”

“Well, I couldn’t find an excuse not to,” Orion replied.

“You could’ve just said you and Ariel were going out on a date, y’know,” Dion teased.

“That would be dishonest and… unprofessional,” Orion stammered.

“Yeah, yeah, save the denials for if people ask if you’ve been to Kaon,” Dion sighed.

Ariel was admittedly put off guard by Dion’s teasing, but the Kaon comment brought her back on track. She had been informed that Dion pops by Kaon for additional work, but it still puzzled her why Orion would go to that hellscape willingly.

A flash of teleportation energy erupted from the station’s top, as it usually did, and Ariel knew that her job meant she’d have to continue following. Walking by the ticket booth and flashing her badge to avoid questioning, Ariel stepped onto the portpad and set the location for Kaon…

---

...And it lived up to her expectations upon arrival. In contrast to the clean whites, blues and golds of Iacon, Kaon was a grody purple, an unhomely grey, and pockmarked with starbursts of black that screamed “plasma fire was exchanged here.” Even the welcome sign placed in front of the station was unpleasant to look at, dented, and beneath the scratched print of “Welcome to Kaon” there was a graffiti-scrawled message, “Abandon all hope, loser.”

Ariel spent a few minutes contemplating this message before catching sight of Orion and Dion zooming down a nearby road.

Worrying about what she’d get here would have to wait. The mission came first, she reminded herself as she changed to vehicle mode and followed…

---

Megatron looked in the mirror, at himself. He was still wearing the body of the miner from Messatine. The face of a mech who had already become somewhat infamous for blowing up a mine.

Some part of him, deep down, was telling him that he didn’t have a chance. That he should just run.

But he knew that even if he did run, his people would still be oppressed by the Senate and the Functionist Council. Someone had to draw the line, and why shouldn’t it be him? ...Then again, why should it?

“Megatron?” His thoughts were interrupted by Kiloton entering.

“Ah, Kiloton,” Megatron smiled, putting on a brave face, “I was just taking some time to get myself prepped.”

“Sounds like something you could do,” Kiloton noted.

“Weird response but okay.”

“Apologies. Over at my old home of Staniz, we tend to be a bit more straightforward then here at Kaon or Iacon,” Kiloton noted, “But enough about that, I came here because someone wanted to come by and see you.”

Megatron’s head perked up.

“Did, uh, did you check to see if he was friendly?” Megatron asked, “Last bot to come looking for me was a Senate bounty hunter, so, uh, just being cautious.”

“Now, now,” the voice of an older mech spoke up as Kiloton stepped aside, “Is that anyway to treat an old friend?”

The body design was the same as Gladiator Lowload’s, albeit missing the drill, and the helmet had four small spotlights welded to it. In between the bottom two was a face that had seen its fair share of dirt and debris, twisted into a charming smile.

“You son of a bitch,” Megatron snarled, “Everyone thought you were dead.”

“Perhaps I still am, and you’re talking to empty air,” the mech replied, “Truly, your life has driven you around the bend…”

Megatron walked up to the mech, who stood a head above him… and hugged the big lug like you would an old friend, complete with a hug back.

“Then again, it’s kinda hard to argue against crazy, it sometimes works!” The old mech chuckled.

“Good to see you too, Terminus.”

“So, what’ve you been up to since I left the mines,” Terminus asked, “Gladiatorial arena working out?”

“Oh, wrote a political analysis paper, company decided to threaten me, they accidentally set off an energon vein,” Megatron replied, “Not really that sure how I survived, but, well, some guys came by Messatine to pick me up, so here I am.”

Lies and omissions by Megatron, but sometimes deception is the best means of preservation.

“Well, let’s hope this revolution you’ve been talking about really gets off the ground, eh?” Terminus smirked.

---

It had been a month since he started coming to these fights at Dion's request, and now Orion had managed to make a pretty good balance between his job as an archivist and his… well, he would hesitate to call it a career, so more of a hobby really, But either way, his time in this Kaonian Arena had led to him being known and respected by many competitors.

The brutish Primatoid currently fighting in the Arena was not one of them. In fact, as far as Orion could tell, the beastly mech himself was a newcomer who was only recently showing up on the circuit, but the sheer strength of the mech plus this strange fire that always seems to spontaneously combust whenever he struck a good jab meant that this "Groundpounder" was probably the most dangerous opponent any gladiator could come across, as the tanky fighter Brawl could attest to.

"This is not good," Dion murmured, "One fighter couldn't possibly be this strong without some sort of unfair advantage."

"Dion, this is a technically-illegal competition of strength and durability," Orion pointed out, "Fairness isn't exactly a necessary component. I will say that it is kinda a weird thing when his fist spontaneously combusts with that 'Fiery Fist of Furnax' thing he has going on."

"WEIRD?! That guy's an outlier, I know it!"

Orion had heard of Outliers, people with abilities that had not been built into their frames but still displayed nonetheless.

"Is that bad?"

"Yeah, it is. An Outlier, by their very nature, tends to disrupt a delicate balance that is maintained even here," Dion noted, "Even in this fight, people have to win by their own merits, and Outliers could potentially spit in the face of this."

"Is that right?" A new voice spoke up.

The two turned to see Megatron approaching, followed by a larger mech wearing the same bodytype of a gladiator Dion had seen earlier, Lowload he thought, but certainly was older.

"Gentlemen, my name is Terminus Concedo, Tarnian Miner-bot and spokesperson to a rather interested party for these arena fights," the larger spoke first.

"Welcome, Terminus," Orion spoke first, "I am-"

"Orion Pax, I'm aware," Terminus spoke up, "I've been to your archives quite a few times in my life, and I even contributed many articles of interest."

"Oh? Such as?"

"The Guides of Energon Mining, the Politics of Energon Extraction, a few papers on the dangers of Nucleon Refining, and such," Terminus replied, "But the most intriguing one I've recently contributed is the political analysis paper, 'Towards Peace.'"

“Wait… that was you?” Orion asked.

“It was me who wrote it, actually,” Megatron replied, “Was it to your satisfaction?”

“Well, the political analysis was certainly interesting, and really insightful,” Orion replied, “I couldn’t help but notice it was a little dismissive about the Combatron War’s effects on society, nor the influence of certain political parties.”

“Well, to be fair, I wasn’t in a position where such information was readily available when I wrote it,” Megatron noted.

“Right,” Orion nodded, “Sooooooo… is your friend here going to act as your manager, or something?”

"No, but I was hoping one of you could," Terminus stated.

"Uh… well…" Orion wasn't sure how to approach this. For a while, he had been serving as Dion's assistant (emotional support, probably) but being a manager was… something he had not contemplated about at the time.

"Ok, is this for a one-fight sort of thing?" Dion asked.

"Depends on his choice," Terminus replied.

"Alright, Orion. Take this guy out for a spin, and we'll see what happens!" Dion smiled enthusiastically.

Orion was surprised at how Dion put him on the spot, but, ultimately, accepted this choice.

---

As the medibots carried the damaged body of Brawl out of the arena, Orion decided to try his hand at the inspiring speech thing Dion did.

"Alright, so, uh, as a manager, I'm expected to say a few words of advice," Orion started, "This guy is going to be a tough start for your fighting career. If you lose to him, you might receive damage that might haunt you for years and make you regret this night, but if you win, you, uh, might go on to inspire great things… I'm sorry, this whole speech thing isn't working out. So, disregard what I just said. From now on, these speeches are gonna be a short statement… so, uh, good luck?"

“After everything that’s happened to me since I was forged, Orion,” Megatron noted, “I can’t say I believe in luck.”

Megatron stretched and walked to the arena, leaving Orion confused…

---

“DOES ANYONE WANT TO GO UP AGAINST THE UNHOLY MIGHT OF GROUNDPOUNDER!” The announcer, a particularly annoying mech by the name of Hazard, shouted to the crowd as Megatron approached.

“Sir, we already have a fight scheduled after Brawl,” Megatron addressed him, “It’s MY turn to take the stage.”

“Sure… what was your name again?”

“Megatron.”

“Wait… as in Megatronus?” Hazard asked.

“Er, no, as in…” Megatron briefly thought about it. In truth he took the name from an obscure passage in the Covenant of Primus, speaking of a figure of vengeance, but even then he wasn’t quite sure if it referred to a different figure or the Firstforged Prime, “...y’know what, do what you want.”

“LADIONS AND GENTLEBOTS!” Hazard addressed the crowd, drawing groans from it as a result, “You are NOT going to believe the mech we have for you today! A young mech from the city of Tarn,” raising Megatron’s eyeridge, “he was gifted with power from the patron god of this very city!” Okay, Megatron internally decided, this guy has done no research into his movement whatsoever, “I hope you’re ready for a little insanity in the ring tonight, because it’s time to meet an agent of chaos!” change, you buffoon, “The maelstrom of malady, the masher of morons… THE MIIIIIIIIIGHTY MEGATRON!”

A loud booing in the stands by some of the civilians made it clear to Megatron that trying to correct Hazard would be an uphill battle, so he decided to take a higher road. He turned to Groundpounder.

“So, Megatron, you ever fight in the ring before?” Grounpounder questioned.

“A few times on Messatine, testing the waters and such,” Megatron answered.

“Well, I hope your message didn’t rely on winning here,” Groundpounder noted, “Because I don’t intend to throw the fight for you, even if I believe in it.”

“Wouldn’t even dream of it.”

As the refereebot recounted the rules of the engagement - no heinous injury, no outright murder, etc. - Megatron braced himself.

“Groundpounder of Furnax vs Megatron of Messatine,” the refereebot announced, “Battlecode 0000. Kaon Battle Arena. Ready…”

“GO!” Both shouted as they charged at each other.

Groundpounder and Megatron’s fists were the first point to contact the other, countering the other’s strike. From there, Groundpounder was the most active attacker, swinging left and right, forward momentum building with each jab. Megatron, by contrast, was the evasive, moving his feet and body to put him out of range.

Eventually, Megatron saw an opening and jabbed Groundpounder in the face hard. Groundpounder felt the impact lightly dislocate his jaw, but it was not enough to actually hurt all that much. Using his free hand to reset his jaw, Groundpounder growled. “Not bad you…”

His words trailed when he saw Megatron’s biolights begin to glow…

“Give it a moment,” Megatron felt the energy of his talent course throughout his body, focusing it into a single point - a chip he had placed in his arm, of the “ChicChip” model that was sold to folks trying to be fashionable, “Ah, there we go!”

“Wait… you’re an outlier?” Groundpounder asked.

“Wasn’t always,” Megatron confessed.

“Showing off won’t do me no good then,” Groundpounder pounded his shovel arm into his other hand, igniting the shovel part, “TIME TO BRING THE HEAT!”

“Oh snap folks! He’s going for the ‘Fiery Fist of Furnax,’ this early in the fight too! This opponent must’ve been quite the struggle to force this out!” Hazard announced, “Either way it’s going to suuuuuuuck!”

“Alright, you’re all fired up, huh?” Megatron smirked, calling upon a hydrokinetic talent he picked up earlier and feeling his colors change from their usual black and red to a blue-green scheme, “Time to fix that.”

As Groundpounder winded a punch, Megatron sprayed forth, his hands erupting with a geyser of blue liquid. Although it hit dead on, Groundpounder chose to leap up and reignite his shovel arm, a fierce snarl upon his face.

Dodging as Groundpounder swung down with his ignited shovel, Megatron quickly switched over to a geokinetic talent, his colors shifting to earthly browns and blacks.

Groundpounder jumped at him, only for Megatron to raise a wall of hardened silicon to block him. Shaking his head to reorient himself, Groundpounder felt his visor snap in half, one half smacking against the ground. How could this happen to him? Sure, the guys who hired him to keep an eye on this movement did warn him not to engage Megatron directly, but he never knew he’d be in this position and… did Megatron just leap above the barrier? Is he holding a giant lump of silicon? Did his colors just shift to red and gold? Did the lump of silicon just catch fire?

Oh slag, was Groundpounder’s last conscious thought when Megatron lobbed the fiery rock at him and it exploded, taking him out of the ring and knocking him out of consciousness.

The cheer of the crowds was deafening.

“Congratulations, Megatron!” Hazard announced, “You just took down an Outlier with great strength! How does that make you feel?”

“Can I borrow this for a minute?” Megatron took the mic, “Thank you.”

He turned to the crowd and began.

“Hello, and thank you for watching me trounce a monkey,” Megatron began, immediately regretting the comparison, before clearing his throat and continuing, “Now, before I can withstand your onslaught of shame for obvious shapism, I feel I must ask you. How many of you are here to get away from your boring, prospectless life?”

This got the crowd murmuring, and the whispers and mumbles fused into a palpable chorus. Ariel watched as one bot raised his servo up, then another, then another. Soon, a good 60% of the arena’s guests had raised their hands.

“Oh, I see we have several,” Megatron smirked, “Well, this goes out to those who admit it… or those who think they should but aren’t sure.... Work blows, man.”

Ariel rolled her eyes. This was the big subversive figure who everyone was hearing rumors about? Some lazy miner who didn’t want to work? Primus, how… basic.

“We’re all thinking it, in one way or another,” Megatron noted, “But you have to do it because, hey, it gives you the means to GET some things. Food. Armor. A place to rest for the night. Maybe several nights. A telescreen, maybe. Perhaps, if you’re lucky enough… an education for your kid. OR yourself.”

That’s how the system works, essentially, Ariel thought.

“It kinda sucks that we have to pay money for that stuff, because, honestly, some people just kinda lack the means to get money, the skills to get the job to get said money, or even the ability to get that stuff,” Megatron continued his lecture, “And then they turn to crime, which can… backfire spectacularly, or can benefit you immensely if you play the cards right.”

Ariel’s optics focused on the several known crimelords listening in, intrigued or angry or some weird hybrid of the two.

And when her optics zoomed back to the arena… Orion stood beside Megatron with an expression of “I don’t think I should be here right now” on his face.

“My manager is a data clerk from Iacon, and his assistant is a mere dockworker, but both come here for financial burdens they can't lift off their shoulders through entirely legal means," Megatron paused briefly, "Which may mean that even the higher echelons of society are being oppressed by the policies of the Prime, all to suit a small percentage of individuals that run society.”

His optics met Ariel’s… and she could feel the barely restrained rage.

“And ain't that kind of a dick move?"

The crowd erupted in cheers of agreement, which soon devolved into a simple chant… “MEGATRON! MEGATRON! MEGATRON!”

In the jubilation, Ariel zoomed out of the crowd, back outside.

“Log 57… continue…” Ariel couldn’t think straight. So many questions swarmed her mind. She saw this controversial figure, this “Megatron” win over a crowd with a barely coherent speech and a beat-up primatoid. She could report on Megatron, but how would she explain it? ‘Oh, gee, turns out the target I’ve been assigned to guard and observe got roped in with this probably-dangerous future crime overlord, might as well arrest him before he does something stupid like blow the archives!’

In her head, that seemed like something rational. But a feeling in her gut told her otherwise…

“Log 57 continued. After some trailing, I lost the subject somewhere in Kaon. In my exploration of the area, I stumbled across an illicit fighting arena, and bore witness to a gladiator criticizing political systems. In conclusion, I shall return to Iacon and do one of two things tomorrow. If subject returns to the archive, I will resume normal duties. If subject does not… I will burn this excuse of a city to the ground until I find him. Log concluded.”

And with that, Ariel headed back to the teleport station, unaware of a jet that had been hovering overhead…

---

Megatron thanked the people for their time and departed. Orion followed.

"Hey, uh, excuse me, sir!" Orion spoke up to get his attention.

"Call me Megatron, Orion," Megatron replied back, "It's what everyone else is doing."

"It seems that some of the facts are being misrepresented."

"Like what?"

"I didn't join the arena for the money," Orion pointed out, "I came merely to support my friend, and to chronicle the struggle of the masses."

"Perhaps that might be a faulty interpretation, but sometimes, the small facts have to be twisted slightly to make a point," Megatron pointed out.

"Nobody ever benefited from lying about the facts," Orion countered.

"Oh is that right? Tell me, where is the Matrix?" Megatron posed a question.

"It has been… lost?" Orion replied.

"Stolen," Megatron corrected, "By the very people who entrusted Sentinel with it."

"What?"

"When the people up top tell you something that doesn't make sense, then try to explain it with legal jargon," Megatron added, "Make sure to keep this thought in mind - you are being deceived. Always fact-check."

And with that, Megatron left Orion in that hallway, having in the span of a minute lead Orion to question everything about the current political climate that he has previously assumed to be fact.

He did not sleep well that night.

---

Ariel’s optics glanced at the chronometer. Back at the door. Back at the chronometer. Back at the door. Orion was a few astroseconds later than usual. Not enough to panic about…

The door opened, and in rolled Orion in vehicle mode. Ariel sighed. No need to rampage through Kaon yet. Orion transformed, and Ariel could see the wear and tear on his face even from the distance she stood.

"You alright, Orion?" Ariel asked as he approached, "You don't look well."

"I just had a hard time sleeping last night is all," Orion replied.

"Really? Why?"

"Oh, you know, work stress and all."

Ariel knew better then that, but at the same time she felt like going into it would be a dangerous move. She made the resolve to hold off on asking specific questions for now.

"Well, uh, why not take the day off? Always calms the mind down," Ariel suggested.

"I have way too much of a work ethic to really do that," Orion replied, although it was more a lamentation than anything else.

"Well, if you have anything you wanna vent about, I'm always available," Ariel smiled.

"Oh sure, open about my darkest secrets to someone who has only been on the staff for a few months," Orion murmured.

"Huh?"

"I don't think I'm comfortable enough to vent to you about anything at the moment," Orion reworded his statement, "Maybe someday."

"Alright…" Ariel replied, confused but understanding, "Well, I'm gonna go patrolling the halls, holler if you need anything."

"Alright," Orion replied, knowing full-well he needed nothing… except maybe some space and all. With that, he stepped away and began looking over the archives like normal.

Ariel sighed again. How the hell was she going to do her job with this knowledge in her head? Maybe a stop by the Institute to wipe her memory of that night would be better than dealing with it, but at the same time she knew that some bots would question her about her report of that night. ...Did she ever submit it?

She was so caught up in trying to figure out how to handle this situation, she completely missed a maroon jet femme walking by.

---

Orion’s optics would normally be scanning the record files, overviewing their placement, making sure some idiot didn’t put them in the wrong way… but today it was less “scanning” and more “glazed over due to lack of sleep.”

It took the physical stimuli of a finger tapping him on the shoulder to shake him out of it. Turning, he saw a jet-former femme, maroon in coloration, with a distinctive helmet with two side fins sticking out, two horns on top of that, and a glowing front browridge.

"Uh…" Orion emitted to gather his nerves, "Can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen."

Another moment of silence…

"Ok, um… MAY I help you?"

"You were at the gladiatorial arena yesterday, backing that Megatron fellow."

This sent Orion into full alarm mode.

"What?! No! I wasn't near any arena! I don't know if there was an arena in this city!" Orion replied, trying to keep his voice down.

"Your secret is safe with me," the jetbot replied, "I merely came to you with a warning."

"Uh… ok?" was all Orion could stutter out.

The jetbot looked left, and then right, before leaning in.

"Don't trust that bot," she spoke in a way that struck Orion as a seizing command, "People like him say there is evil in the world, but they simplify the story and construct a threat that does not meaningfully exist. And they do that all for their own ends."

The jetbot soon stepped away from Orion and walked away, leaving Orion unsure of who to trust on this… and with the feeling that something even worse was on the horizon.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 08

Orion didn't have much luck sleeping the night before, and it showed. His optics were slightly dimmer, his movements slower than usual, and sometimes his reactions were nonexistent.

Ariel knew the signs of recharge deprivation, and furthermore, she knew WHY it was such. But it was an awkward topic. How to address it? 'Hey buddy, did you see the gladiatorial fight at Kaon last night? You looked so out of place there, dude!' Yeah, that'll go well.

Ariel decided to start by addressing the most obviously present moment.

"You look like you didn't sleep at all last night," Ariel pointed out.

"I didn't. Curse of being an archivist - sometimes information keeps you from recharge," Orion gave his excuse, "I've added a cubelet of hydrocarbons to my cube this morning, but it didn't help."

"So, what kind of information in particular?" Ariel asked, knowing the real answer but wanting to hear how Orion'd word it.

"Why revolutions happen, and how many people got in deep before they realized just what they signed up for," Orion noted, "I mean, how many people were dragged into violent conflicts with no idea about the stakes until it was too late. It's a harsh thought - someone innocent can be caught up in something so... dangerous and ethically concerning and then..."

Ariel nodded.

"I can imagine that'd be concerning."

"Yeah. I mean... suppose you were one of those guys - your friend's acquaintance was giving out some crazy ideas about how unfair the world was and you were like, alright. World could be better. That much we agree on. And then, during one of his secret group meetings he invited you to, he names you as a supporter, and then you're like 'what the hell, I never said I was into this,' but nobody listened to you."

"Oh, that'd be awful."

"And now said associate is gathering allies to his crazy cause, which is starting to feel like... I don't know, let's say a cult of personality, and you're trying to distance yourself from it but... Okay, this example's getting a little complicated, but you understand the base concept, right?"

Ariel thought for a moment. Could Orion be trying to explain himself and avoid punishment?

"I... I think so."

"...Good. That's good."

"So, what would you do in that situation?"

"Stay as far away from that associate as I could," Orion stated.

That settled it. Ariel now knew that he and Megatron were not allies.

"Sounds as good as you can get."

"Yeah..."

"Now find some secret chamber and lie down. Put a heavy book near your head so it looks like you were knocked out by a book falling," Ariel advised.

"Would that even work?"

"It worked for one slacker I found around here. Had to explain to the medics called the actual truth of the matter and they sympathized," Ariel stated.

"...What slacker?"

"I'm not at liberty to say~."

Orion narrowed his optics... then they shut and his head clunked on the table.

"Uh..." Ariel looked around, grabbed a heavy-looking record, and then put it next to his head.

Whatever admonishments the administration could come up with for this kind of deception will have to be taken up with her.

---

Sentinel had grown worried since the day his Matrix was lost.

Some might say paranoid, insecure in his position.

True, he always strived to maintain a delicate balance in the political climate, but with so many parties maneuvering to overcome each other, it was growing dangerously hard to keep everything stable. Some of the worst parties to deal with were the megacorporations, who always tried too hard to one-up the competition and achieve a place of dominance so that they can have more money (seriously, you'd think they had plenty enough!)

The one party that Sentinel had a worst time with was the Functionist Council. That shadowy cabal that always seemed so focused on their "perfect shape," as if that was a possibility.

Still, Sentinel has to maintain balance, even in the face of their ever-darker ambitions.

This was the resolution that focused his mind when their representative came into the room, dressed in that strange cloth-thing (a robe, he remembered them calling it) and that strange mask with a single glowing light (was it a mask or a face with one optic?)

"Welcome," Sentinel addressed the robed figure, "How may I address you?"

"I am Functionist Council Unit Twelve of Twelve," the figure replied, "I have been sent by the council to-"

"-address growing concerns," Sentinel completed the sentence, briefly monitoring the figure's response as it tensed a bit. Fear? Rage? Some combination of the two?

"...Precisely. Although please, let us not interrupt each other again," Twelve answered.

"Apologies," Sentinel nodded, "I'm admittedly a bit short on time for today, so I'd like to make this meeting brief."

"Very well."

"As you know, recent events such as the underground transmissions that have been making their rounds have gotten several people concerned, including several members of the Senate," Sentinel noted, "I called you here so I can get a good idea of your concerns."

"Our concerns are that you're not doing enough to quell this uprising," Twelve answered Sentinel's question.

"What can we do? The transmissions came from Kaon, and even with all the resources we sent there to contain its rampant corruption, the gang wars continue ad infinitum," Sentinel replied, "It's the perfect place for Megatron's movement to hide in."

"What you can do is write off the city and perform an orbital cleansing," Twelve offered a suggestion.

"That is not a viable solution, and you know it," Sentinel replied, "My role as Conv-...as Prime, is to maintain the peace and prosperity of our people, and if I allowed an entire city's populus to pay for the actions of one radical, it would be a price too high for Cybertron to bear, either morally or financially."

"And do you think Megatron has such limitations?" Twelve asked the question as monotone as can be, but Sentinel still felt the sinister edge of it.

"Megatron lacks the resources to enact lasting change," Sentinel replied, "Even if he were to get the gang wars under his thumb, it'd hardly be enough to face our peacekeepers."

"In fair and honorable combat, your assessment will hold true," Twelve noted, "But we're dealing with a group that has allowed D-16's survival of the mines and involvement in Boreus's death to remain below the radar and prides itself in using the tools of the enemy - 'deception' - against said enemy, being most likely us."

"Megatron's group will be dealt with in a controlled manner. This is my promise," Sentinel replied.

"We are concerned that such a manner would prove ineffective for dealing with these 'Decepticons,'" Twelve noted.

"Decepticons?" Sentinel asked.

"It is a name we developed for the movement, based on their official designation, the 'Anti-Deception Conversation,'" Twelve noted.

"Wouldn't that make them the 'Anti-DeceptiCons?'"

"We find that removing the word Anti offers more credence," Twelve noted.

Sentinel thought about it briefly, and decided that calling someone an 'Anti' would be quite silly, like someone declaring an antifacist ideology a political enemy and thus outing themselves as facist. Truly backwards logic. But that was neither here nor there.

"I give you my word, these Decepticons will be dealt with in time," Sentinel replied, "But they will be dealt with humanely."

"So says he who lost the Matrix," Twelve castigated, before turning around and strolling out of the room.

---

Twelve of Twelve returned to the private spire that the Functionist Council used as their base of operation, and his internal balcony placed around the grand table around which all the Functionists made their philosophical discussions.

"So, what has transpired, Castigator?" He heard one of his fellows ask.

"Sentinel has made his limitations clear - he will deal with the Decepticons, but he will not purge the city for it," He explained.

"As we have foreseen," Another functionist, the Moderator, noted, "So, what is the next step?"

"Megatron, D-16, still lives, clearly. The agent the Senate had sent against him has either failed in his duties or has been seduced ideologically by Megatron. Further action by the Senate would likely be more overt, but result in further escalation," the Evaluator evaluated.

"Which means it could fall to us to deal with this growing movement," The Enumerator noted, "Many of the peacekeepers in Kaon are Functionaries under our banner, although their main concern is the Rise."

"In order to stem the Decepticon tide, we must step up our actions," the Eneactor pointed out, "I have already prepped another shipment of Functionaries to Kaon, and with them new orders to deal with the Decepticon threat. All I require is your approval."

"And you have it," the Evaluator replied.

"As you have mine," the Enumerator added.

"Make it so," The Authenticator authenticated.

One by one more of the table replied in agreement, and the motion was made clear.

Even if they couldn't purge Megatron's forces, they could make it certainly rougher for them.

---

Megatron, for his part, was busy prepping his own side of the board... and by prepping, we of course mean trying to keep his standards as to who he could exploit. Bots like Sky Shadow and Stonecrusher were criminals with a history of war, thus it was easy to keep them in line with promises. Bots like the dumpy tank-bot standing before him - Straxus was the name he was given, although Megatron wasn't entirely sure if it was his real name - didn't seem like the kind of bot who could be kept in line with any amount of ease.

"...And furthermore, the humiliation of my people by the so-called civilians has only brought on further social calamity," Straxus continued his disjointed rant, "As I'm sure you were aware, the reliance on such arbitrary units of measurement for worth like 'shanix' has only caused greater disparity for-"

"Straxus, sir," Megatron stood up, making sure to loom over the bot before him, "I recognize that you see a kindred between us, but I do not see that same kindred. I intend to lead a revolution to make Cybertron a better place for everyone, but doing so means I have to exercise greater self-control then you could possibly conjure up."

"And what does that have to do with anything?"

"It means that the Anti-Deception Conversation cannot grant you any form of assistance," Megatron clarified, "We will not be involved in your campaigns, and you will not be involved in our operations."

"...You say that now, but time will prove otherwise," Straxus replied almost in confidence, "You'll need a lot of armaments, and people willing to use them. And I happen to have both in excess."

"I suggest you leave now, Straxus. Don't call us, we'll call you," Megatron hissed.

"Very well, but don't expect us to stay out of it when you get into trouble," Straxus turned to leave, "Be seeing you."

And with that, Straxus exited the building.

"Ugh..." Megatron slammed his head on the desk he was using, "Sometimes I wonder if I'm always destined to find the wrong people. Anyone else?"

"Not at the moment, sir," the random 'seeker' replied.

---

As nightfall began, Ariel continued on the path to her designated habsuite. Her mind still clouded with multiple probabilities.

"So Orion didn't know, that much was obvious, but how deep in it is he? Would High Command accept such reports? Would Sentinel? Would anyone? So many questions sparked up by this strange event," Ariel noted, "Am I trying to pretend there's something I can do, or-"

"Is there really something you can do?"

Ariel quickly swung around, spear and shield unfolding from their subspace pockets, to face the new voice.

Its owner was a maroon jetbot, femme by the looks of it, with a very charming look on her face.

"Whoa, relax," the jetbot held her hands up in a defensive action, "I come in peace."

"Who are you?" Ariel asked.

"I'm a bot who believes in the ideals of law and order much like you, but at the same time I know the world isn't perfect," the jetbot replied, "Sometimes, people make mistakes."

"That's not the answer I was looking for," Ariel replied back.

"True, but it's the best I got," the jet noted, "The second-best I got is an offer."

"What kind of offer? Drugs? Money? Political favors?" Ariel asked, not intending to get anything.

"Information. On the Decepticons' leader," The jetbot replied, "and a chance to bring about a truly lasting peace and order, free from so many corruptinging interests."

Ariel's optics narrowed, but the jetbot seemed harmless.

"Well, if I'm gonna take that information, I'm gonna need someone to credit when all this is over."

"Ah, a name," The jetbot finally sighed, "My name is Elita."

"Nice to meet you," Ariel returned the introduction.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 09

Written by Devaron09

It was a peaceful day in Iacon. For Orion, the first in a long time. He had finally taken the day off, and was planning to spend the day catching up on his novels. Sitting down on the sofa in their apartment’s living space, he activated the datapad and began reading. This particular novel had been something recommended by Alpha Trion during his time at the Camien markets - “The Light Keeper’s Circle”. Action, drama, romance, it had it all, according to Alpha Trion, and as long as it was something he could unwind with, he was good. As he put his feet on the table, he took a sip of his non-alcoholic engex, and sunk into the story of the book.

“Hey, what about the Maximum Overdrive, on Prion?” came the voice of Dion, immediately breaking Orion’s immersion. “I hear they serve an Engex blend that they light on fire.”

Orion sighed. While he was trying to read, Dion was attempting to organize some sort of cross-colony trip to visit the best bars in the colony. It definitely wasn’t his sort of thing, but Dion had insisted Orion come with him and his dock friends. Orion put his datapad down, and put his feet on the ground.

“Dion, I’m definitely not what you’d call a connoisseur, but I honestly don’t think that going somewhere they serve fire hazards as a drink is really the smartest idea” Orion sighed.

“Ah come on, Orion, I’m just trying to make it fun” replied Dion. “We both save our days for a full month’s holiday! I wanna make sure it’s something special. Besides, I hear more and more Pyro’s are appearing now. Pretty soon the drink won’t be the bigger fire hazard in the room.”

“Dion, when you suggested it, I figured we would be seeing the sites. The twin peaks of Devisun, the Arkix Ruins on Eukaris, Firstforged Monument on Mons Prima. History.”

“We’ll have time for that. But the way I heard, these bars and pubs are some of the best out there. The real Golden Sites of the Commonwealth.”

“An ignited drink won’t put this…”Maximum Overdrive” into the 100 Golden Sites any day soon.”

“Orion, relax” said Dion. “At the end of this day, this trip’ll be to get away from things. Think about it. I don’t have to worry about loading and unloading crates, while my supervisor is STILL awol, you don’t have to worry about overworking yourself at the archive, or embarrassing yourself in front of your girlfriend-”

“Heeeeey…”

“Heh, sorry, couldn’t help myself. But besides, it also means we don’t have to worry about our, uh, other obligations.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the creaking of their door. Orion and Dion turned their heads to see Megatron, wearing a hooded cloak, opening it.

“Apologies, your door was open” Megatron said, removing his hood.

“Ah, someone broke the lock a few weeks back, we’re still waiting on someone to be sent round” Dion said. “So, what’s with the new look?”

“I just find sometimes it pays for me to… remain covert” Megatron replied. “Particularly when in Iacon.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but the lack of cloaks in Iacon might make you more conspicuous” Dion replied. “So, what brings you to our door?”

“Well, it had been a while since we talked, longer considering last time was cut short, so I was wondering if you would be interested in joining me in going to a Sim Centre for a bit of sparring. I’ve already hired out a place, and I think it would be a good place to catch up while also being productive.”

“Ah, sorry Megs, I’m kinda snowed in planning for a big trip me and Orion are gonna have” Dion replied. “Lots of stuff to plan, and then you gotta book stuff waaaaaaaaaay in advance. But Orion’s free. He’s got the day off.”

Orion awkwardly sat in place, not sure of how to respond. He’d never been a fighter, and he certainly didn’t want to get repeatedly punched by this miner.

“I’m, uh, not really a fighter, so, uh…” Orion stuttered.

“All the more reason to get you trained up” retorted Megatron. “It’s a dangerous world out there, and if things don’t change, it’s gonna get a whole lot worse. Come on, I’ll show go easy on you. Maybe we can figure out a preferred style.”

“Go on, Orion” encouraged Dion. “You don’t go out that much, this is the perfect chance to try something new.”

“Okay” relented Orion. “But I won’t be good.”

And with that, Megatron pulled Orion out the door as Dion was left to his work.

---

Orion and Megatron walked through the backstreets of Iacon. Orion had never been to these parts of Iacon… if anything, he had no idea they even existed. As they walked, Orion looked nervously at his feet.

“Something wrong, Orion?” Megatron asked.

“It’s…” began Orion. “It’s nothing.”

“Orion, we’re friends,” said Megatron. “You can say what’s troubling you.”

“Well… it’s some of the people you’ve allied with,” said Orion.

“Yes, I know Lugnut and Blackwall can be a bit strange, but they mean well. Well, aside from their little rivalry.”

“It’s not them… it’s some of the groups you’ve aligned yourself with. I mean, the senate have already started referring to the Anti-Deception Conversation as the “Decepticons,” and have labeled you a crime syndicate. The term is definitely being spread about. I don’t know if it’s the image you want.”

“So that’s where the name came from,” Megatron sighed, “Believe me, I’m not exactly thrilled with working with them, but with them, people finally feel comfortable enough to come out and join us. Just last week, the workforce of Hezik III - you know, the ones that got laid off when they automated the mines - they’ve joined us in force. And I hear rumors it might be the same for those who worked on Hezik I and IV. We’re reaching people Orion.”

“I know, it’s just… what if criminal elements corrupt this. Turn this into something else entirely.”

“Orion, I would never let that happen” Megatron said. “I’ve experienced what it’s like being one of the so-called disposable classes, and I have no intention of-”

Megatron quickly paused, stopping walking. Orion stopped too, not sure what was going on. Megatron quickly grabbed Orion and pulled him into an alleyway, firmly keeping his hand on Orion’s shoulder.

“Hey, Megatron, what are you doing?” Orion questioned, concerned as Megatron looked out of the alley.

“Ssssh” hissed Megatron in response.

Orion caught sight of a pair of Autotroopers passing by, white plated and with teal stripes marking their body. Once they were out of sight, Megatron breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed his grip of Orion.

“Megatron, was that really necessary?”

“I suggest you not refer to me as- as the M-Word in public like this” Megatron said, peeking out of the alley to watch the Autotrooper get further away.

“Well, you said I can’t call you D-... well you said I can’t use your designation” Orion replied, exasperated. “What am I supposed to refer to you as?”

Megatron scratched his chin, thinking. He turned to Orion once he had his answer.

“For now, you can refer to me as ‘X’” Megatron stated. “Vague, easy enough to remember, etcetera.”

“Right. ‘X’. Definitely going to help the image problem” Orion said, rolling his eyes.

“Look, we’ll workshop it later,” Megatron replied. “We still have a time slot for that Sim Centre to make it for, so I suggest we get moving.”

“Sure thing, ‘X’” Orion stated, adjusting his glasses and following Megatron out of the alley.

As they returned to the street, Orion pondered how fast things were changing with the Movement… the Decepticons, now. Could this still be the same group Dion had introduced him to barely that long ago?

---

Ariel slowly stepped towards Orion’s terminal. She looked around, making sure no-one was in the area. Orion might not be around, but Alpha had a habit of showing up out of nowhere. Satisfied she was alone, she sat down at the terminal.

“Sorry for using your account, Orion, but this is important,” Ariel said, quickly typing in the password.

Ariel never meant to take note of Orion’s password. She just had a habit of just remembering these things, and if Orion wasn’t going to hide his password, it wasn’t her fault. But now, it was a good thing. Due to his position, Orion had access to far more access to archives without having to worry too much about anything but level 5 permissions. Bringing up the search option, she entered her queries.

“Alright Elita, let’s see who you really are,” Ariel said to herself.

It didn’t take long for Ariel to find files pertaining to her mysterious friend… though that wasn’t to say it was that successful. Military services records and field reports dating back to the Beast Wars and the Ultracon Conflict, some even going as far back as the tailend of the Combatron War. And yet, nothing recent. Ariel kept digging, yet everything she found that could be a lead had been scrubbed of critical information.

“Urgh!” Ariel loudly said, annoyed. “She’s an enigma! I hate it!”

“Is everything alright?” came Alpha’s voice as he popped his head round a shelf. “You don’t seem to be at your post.”

“Sorry, Orion just asked me to clean his desk when I got the chance” Ariel lied, trying to cover herself.

“Really? Funny, he asked me the same thing.”

Ariel nervously tried to turn off the console. This was it. Alpha had rumbled her.

“Orion can never be too careful, can he?” Alpha chuckled. “Imagine that, asking the both of us to clean his workspace. Well, you do it this time and I’ll do it once my shift ends. Take care, Ariel.”

“Take care” Ariel replied, breathing a sigh of relief.

Once Alpha was gone, Ariel looked back at the computer. Numerous files were open, yet none of them had any information as to who this Elita really was beyond a soldier, nor her interest in Orion.

“Great…” Ariel muttered to herself. “Well, I should probably clear his history. I don’t want him to be driven more towards the Decepticon movement.”

With that, Ariel scrubbed the files, before doing a rushed job of tidying Orion’s desk to keep to her story, before grabbing her spear and heading towards the front entrance to take up her post.

---

Orion and Megatron stood inside the holosuite. The room was active, only producing white walls, floor and ceiling, making it almost barren. Orion found it to be a rather odd experience.

“I, uh… it’s pretty plain...” Orion stated, trying to start up a conversation.

“Need to set up the parameters,” Megatron replied. “But first, we need to find somewhere for you to start. System, generate holographic arsenal Alpha-through-Delta.”

Orion turned around as several tables appeared, each one holding a number of weapons. There was a wide variety of them, from energy pistols to photon repeaters to particle spreaders to even a fusion cannon. Orion backed up, a little daunted by the array.

“I, umm, guns?” asked Orion. “This seems a bit much. I thought we were just learning to defend ourselves?”

“We are” Megatron replied, walking past Orion. “It’s a dangerous world, sometimes people won’t give you a chance to get close.”

“But it’s a gun!” Orion retorted. “One shot and you're over!”

“Not if you set the setting low enough” Megatron said, rifling through the weapons. “Most weapons come with a stun mode anyway. Not that the people you’ll be protecting yourself will really care. Now here. Take this.”

Picking one of the weapons off the table, Megatron threw it straight at Orion. It bounced off the window on Orion’s chest and landed in his hands.

“Did you just throw a gun at me?” Orion questioned, startled.

“It’s holomatter, it won’t kill and it won’t misfire.” Megatron said, rolling his eyes. “A pulse pistol. Lightweight, easy enough to get to grips with. System, produce targeting simulation Alpha-Ten-One.”

Orion turned around as a trio of holograms appeared, depicting three different models of Vehicons. One slim and nimble, balancing on a single wheel, one bulky and heavy armored, standing on treader feet, and one hovering in midair with slender, winged arms.

“Disgusting,” Megatron said. “Generating MTO Vehicons as targets. Typical Senate Guards. If I had my way, I’d be generating Guard Convoy, but it might draw suspicion.”

“I’m not too sure about this,” Orion said, looking at holograms.

“Look, just point, keep your arm steady, and pull the trigger” Megatron replied. “It’s easy.”

“Don’t say it’s easy. That just sounds callous.”

“Look, I’m doing this for your own safety. No-one’s getting hurt here, and ideally you won’t have to use what you learn here.”

Orion raised the pistol at one one of the holograms, holding it with both arms. He could feel his arms shaking. Closing his eyes, Orion pulled the trigger and felt the pistol recoil backwards as it fired… straight into his head. The gun dinged off his head, before landing on the floor. Orion opened his eyes, and saw a red target on the wall behind the Vehicons, signifying where he had hit… or rather missed. Megatron approached Orion and picked up the pistol.

“Perhaps a little too lightweight” Megatron sighed. “Let’s see if we can find something better.”

Megatron put the pistol back on one of the tables, then began sifting through the weapons once more. Orion awkwardly watched him.

“Any idea how long we’re gonna be doing this for?” Orion asked.

“As long as it takes,” Megatron replied, before picking out a larger rifle. “How about we try an Ion Blaster?”

Orion reluctantly took the rifle, and tried to find a way to hold it comfortably in his hands. No matter what Megatron thought, they were going to be here for some time…

---

Elsewhere, in Kaon’s Warehouse District, things were busy. Newly christened Decepticons were working hard to convert the abandoned sector into a base of operations, all without alerting any of the authorities. On one end, Blackwall, Groundpounder, Brawl and Slugfest attempted to shift some large metal pipes that had been abandoned there for some time. On the other, Lugnut began berating some new insecticon recruits for trying to devour their energy supplies. Outside, Sky Shadow waited patiently as an old Animatronian shuttle landed in front of him. As the door opened, Cryotek emerged.

“You took your time” Sky Shadow said. “Any particular reason you’re late.”

“Any particular reason I need to justify to you?” Cryotek snapped back. “I thought not. Is Soundwave inside?”

“Yeah” Sky Shadow answered. “He and some of those engineers, Constructicons I think, are trying to install subwave transmitters they got from that cyclops.”

“Then let’s drag his attention onto more important business.”

Heading through the outer fence, Sky Shadow and Cryotek passed the various working Decepticons and entered the nearest warehouse. Inside, they found Soundwave, Scrapper and Hook working on a large machine.

“Soundwave, we need to talk” Cryotek loudly stated. “Alone.”

Soundwave sighed, before looking at Scrapper and Hook. With a single wave of his hand, Soundwave gestured the two to leave, leaving Soundwave alone with Sky Shadow and Cryotek.

“Query: Is this necessary?” Soundwave inquired. “Operations: increased time consumption. Time for complaints: None.”

“We need to talk about this red truck bloke Megatron calls his ‘manager’” Sky Shadow began. “We’re concerned.”

“Concerned and confused” added Cryotek. “The little runt barely gets involved in the work, and whenever he shows up he just looks awkwardly and barely leaves the side of Megatron or that orange pipsqueak.”

“Then negative concerns of you being defeated by him” Soundwave coldly mocked.

Sky Shadow stopped Cryotek from lunging at Soundwave for the comment, before turning his attention back to the Decepticon.

“Point is, we’re concerned that his loyalty could waver” Sky Shadow continued. “Perhaps lead to him betraying us to the Autobots.”

“Clarify term - Autobots,” Soundwave inquired.

“You know, those guys under Autonomous’s charge,” Cryotek replied, “They could be a problem in the future, especially with the way they rejected us.”

“Negative” Soundwave replied. “Megatron: absolute, therefore Megatron’s trust in Orion: Absolute. Conversation terminated.”

Sky Shadow sighed as Cryotek gave an annoyed scowl.

“Come on Cryotek” Sky Shadow said, turning around. “We’re not gonna achieve much talking to him. We might as well get on with things and wait till Megatron’s around.”

Cryotek began to turn around, before looking back at Soundwave. Pointing the dragon head on his arm, Cryotek fired a chilling bolt of energy at the subwave transmitter, freezing it instantly.

“You might need to thaw that out” Cryotek chuckled, before leaving with Sky Shadow.

Soundwave looked at Sky Shadow and Cryotek, then at the frozen machine behind him. Letting out a noise one could only assume was a sigh, Soundwave went outside, hoping to find someone, a Decepticon, whose talent might help expedite the thawing process.

---

Ariel stood at her post, watching people coming in and out of the archive. But today, her mind wasn’t on the job. Her thoughts were entirely occupied by Elita, and whatever her motives were. She barely noticed when one clumsy visitor dropped a file on her feet, and wasn’t phased when some youngsters tried to mess around with her. She simply kept thinking, pondering, tapping her foot as she thought.

“Quiet day today, isn’t it Ariel?” Alpha asked, suddenly standing next to her.

Ariel jumped at Alpha appearance, accidentally throwing her spear upwards. Attempting to catch it, she bounced it in her hands a few times, before firmly grasping it. Turning to Alpha, she quickly stood straight and saluted.

“Sorry, Alpha Trion!” Ariel stated, composing herself. “I wasn’t aware you were there.”

“Oh, there’s no need to apologise” Alpha replied. “And no need to salute, either. You know I don’t go into all that. For me, work is a congregation of friends, not a hierarchy of ranks.”

“I, uh, sorry” Ariel said, putting her hand down.

“There you go, second apology in a minute” Alpha chuckled. “Now, what seems to be up? You seem to be distracted by something. What’s on your mind?”

“Well…” Ariel started, deciding how to phrase it. “I’ve just been doing a little research. A project, you can say.”

“Oh, taking one of the virtual classes, eh?” Alpha said. “I tried one once. Study of great Cybertronian energon falls. Rather dull, compared to being there, if I’m honest.”

Not quite…” Ariel continued. “You don’t know anything about an “Elita-1” do you?”

“Ohohoh, so it’s a person you want to know about?” Alpha mused. “Well, I’ve met a great many people in my long, long life. Enough to fill an archive. Come to think of it, a lot of them were filled into this archive.”

“But do you know anything about her?”

“Whose to say?” Alpha said, tapping his head. “This mighty processor has a lot of information on it, on many, many people. I’ll have to have a good little fish about. Not literally, of course. But I’ll see what I can remember from nogging. Perhaps a nice little bit of steamed energon will do the trick.”

With that Alpha, headed back inside of the archive, leaving Arial a little confused.

“Uh… thanks?” she called to Alpha, bemused.

Still no answers, she thought. There must be some other way to get information.

---

Orion fired another shot, completely missing his target. Megatron sighed, before picking a weapon off the bench and strapping it to his arm. With several choice shots, Megatron was able to destroy the holoforms with ease.

“Is… is that a fusion cannon?” Orion asked, looked at the large cannon attached to Megatron’s arm. “Seems a little excessive for self-defense.”

“I’ve spent much of my life wielding heavy machinery, Orion” Megatron said, looking at the cannon on his arm. “Drills, extractors, even piledrives on rare occasions. I’ve become more used to a weightier weapon. A fusion cannon happens to be a weightier weapon.”

“I guess, but it isn’t it more of a weapon of war?”

“Only if that’s what you choose it to be.”

Megatron removed the fusion cannon from his arm and placed it on the table. He took the ion blaster off Orion, and put it alongside it.

“System” said Megatron. “Switch to holographic arsenal Epsilon through to Theta.”

Though the table seemed to remain the same, the weapons on them changed shape. Where guns once sat, now an assortment of close range weapons had appeared. There were swords, spears, lances, axe, maces and numerous others.

“Take your pick” Megatron said, gesturing to the table.

Orion looked over the table. He still thought this was a little excessive for an archivist, but he knew Megatron wouldn’t take no for an answer. Orion stood still, his gaze hovering over the plethora of weapons. Finally, he settled on an amber-glowing axe.

“Ah, an Energon Axe” Megatron said, looking over. “A rather old but reliable weapon.”

As Orion picked up the axe, something strange happened. His shunted back into his arm as the axe attached itself to him. Shocked, Orion lets his arm drop, almost hitting himself in the knee, if only for Megatron catching it.

“Be thankful it’s holomatter” Megatron said, bringing Orion’s back up. “It’d be one step forward, two steps back if you ended up slicing off your leg.”

“Well, I don’t think it’d be any steps anywhere if that was the case” Orion replied.

Megatron smirked at the joke. Letting go of Orion’s arm, he walked back over to the table and picked up a large mace. Connecting to his arm with a stream of energy, Megatron turned to face Orion, brandishing the mace.

“Overcome me” Megatron ordered.

“A mace… is that standard for people attacking us?” Orion asked.

“Not as such,” Megatron replied. “But you should be ready for any weapon. Now you heard me.”

Orion attempted to charge forward, but was quickly knocked down with a single swing of Megatron’s mace. Orion groaned as he lay on his back. Megatron stood over Orion and pulled him up.

“We’ll keep going until I’m satisfied we’re making progress” Megatron replied. “Now we’ll try again. Overcome me.”

---

The pair kept sparring for hours, Orion finding himself defeated over and over. Megatron said that Orion was improving, but it didn’t feel like it. As Megatron pulled Orion up for what felt like the millionth time, he felt like all he had achieved was warping his spinal struts out of shape.

“Well, it seems that we’ve run out of time” Megatron said, bringing up a chronometer. “We’ll have to carry this on another time.”

“Yes, another time…” Orion wheezed, tired from the training. “Do you really think it’ll come to violence?”

“What will come to violence?” Megatron asked as he removed the mace from his arm.

“This movement?” Orion said, removing his energon axe. “You said this was only for training, but you seem to be going straight for the heavier weaponry. I’m just concerned about what's to come.”

“Like I said, violence by us will only be beget by violence from the senate and the functionists” Megatron replied. “I will only resort to it if I feel it is our only option. Now, I suggest you get going before they kick us out. I’ll finish up here.”

“Are you sure?” Orion asked. “I’m alright helping-”

“No” Megatron replied abruptly. “It’s fine, I’ve got people to see, anyway. See you next time, Orion.”

“See you around, ‘X’” Orion replied.

With that, Orion left the room, leaving Megatron to wrap up the simulation. As he exited the building onto the street, Orion thought. He had hoped Megatron might quell his concerns as they talked, but now he felt like he wasn’t sure what side he was meant to be on. Looking up, he saw the amber sunset disappear behind the buildings. With a heavy, sigh Orion made his way back home.

---

Ariel walked the streets. It was quiet, typical when finishing a shift during the night. Perhaps too quiet. She looked, moving her arm towards her spear. There was nobody around, yet she didn’t feel alone.

“Hmm…” Ariel muttered to herself. “I don’t like it.”

Ariel progressed forward, keeping an optic out for anyone following her. For a moment, she thought she saw a shadow move. Ariel walked a few steps forward, before stopping and brandishing her spear.

“Knock it off!” she called out into the darkness. “I’m armed!”

“I’m aware” came a voice behind. “You rarely aren’t.”

Ariel whipped around and thrust her spear forward, ceasing just in front of her pursuer’s chest. Ariel looked up and found herself staring at Elita-1.

“I hear you’ve been looking into me” Elita said, pushing the spear away with the tip of her finger. “I’m afraid you won’t find much. The senate would rather pretend I never existed.”

“It makes it very hard to trust you” Ariel replied, clutching her spear.

“I’m afraid nothing you would learn could make you trust me any more. But it could not make you trust me any less, either.”

“Then why listen to you?”

“Because we are both concerned for the wellbeing of Orion Pax, though for different reasons. He has a great destiny. But Megatron follows a dark path, and threatens to have Orion follow him.”

“You think Orion’s in danger?”

“I know so. Megatron is capable of many things, both great and terrible. If he drags Orion down with him, we may all be in danger…”

---

Orion entered the apartment, noting the door still wasn’t fixed. He sighed and sat down at the table. Giving him a quick wave, Dion rushed by with the disposal unit, propping against the door to keep it shut. Dion then sat down at the table opposite him.

“Hey Orion, how was things with Megs?” Dion asked.

“Eh…” was all Orion could respond.

“Huh? What’s wrong?”

“I’m… concerned, is all.”

“Concerned about what, exactly?” Dion asked. “You think Megatron’s in danger?”

“No, Megatron’s always in danger” Orion sighed. “It’s the life he’s chosen to live.”

“Then what?”

“I’m concerned about where he’s going” Orion explained. “He keeps denying it, but I’m concerned this peaceful revolution might turn into a militant one. And if that’s the case, how much would things actually be changing?”

“Well, sometimes fighting is inevitable. The senate definitely seems to be spoiling for it.

Orion gave a deep sigh, glumly resting his head on his folded arms.

“It’s just not how I imagined changing Cybertron would be” he solemnly said.

Seeing his friend down, Dion stood up and grabbed a container off one of the counters, as well as a pair of glasses. Pouring into the glasses, he slid one over to Orion and put the container on the table.

“Don’t worry, it’s non-alcoholic” Dion said, taking a sip from his glass. “So go on. What would your ideal reform be?”

“Well… and it may sound stupid, but I alway imagined it being inspiring others rather than just a takeover. Showing them how we can change Cybertron for the better. No spilt Energon, no battle, just people coming together and changing.”

“What, like one of those ‘Superheroes’ you hear the kids readings about?”

“You see” sighed Orion. “Stupid.”

“Well, it’s an idealistic view, I’ll admit” Dion said. “But a noble one.”

“Noble’s your word of the day, isn’t it?”

“Dammit, you got me” Dion chuckled as he took another sip of his drink. “Guess it’s obvious when a dockworker uses the word noble, isn’t it? But what about Megatron? What about doing that with the ‘Decepticons’?”

“Well… you’ve seen their expansion through criminal syndicates” Orion around swirling his drink about in its glass. “Megatron says he has them ‘under control’ but that doesn’t sound like a group trying to make the world a better place. I’m gonna be honest here, Dion, and you have to promise not to say this to anyone else.”

“I promise, Orion. No need for melodramatics.”

“I’m scared of what the “Decepticons” might actually be turning into…” 

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Bunker Ijak, Helex Undersuburbs

In a dark and dingy room, Soundwave paced. The room he was in was stained with oil and grease, and the surrounding furniture having fallen into disrepair. After several more moments, Soundwave walked into the next room, where several individuals awaited him. Mercenaries. Soundwave was never fond of working with their ilk, but their expertise in remaining covert from the authorities was too much of a benefit to squander. Soundwave paced in front of the mercenaries.

“Oil Pan,” Soundwave stated, looking at the mercs as he mentioned their names. “Slugslinger. Fracture. Torr. Mettlehead. You are here to receive a very important mission. Note: secrecy is important. Indiscretion will result in termination.”

“You know what, I’ve heard that so often it’s lost all meaning” Slugslinger said, spinning his cones above his hand. “Especially when you say it so monotone. Just tell us the job.”

“Objective: Eliminate Elita-1” Soundwave stated.

“The Autonomous’ leader?” asked Torr. “Big ask.”

“Query: Issue?” Soundwave stated.

“Nah. Just better be worth the pay.”

“Payment: not an issue. Provided successful completion of operation.”

“She doesn’t exactly show up in the public eye much” Oil Pan said. “You have any leads we can make a start with?”

From Soundwave’s arm, five data slugs deployed. Soundwave held them out in the palm of his hand, and the bounty hunters each took one.

“Data unit contains information on all known associates” Soundwave informed the bounty hunters. “That will be adequate for you.”

“It’s a start” Mettlehead said, inputting the data slug into his personal datapad. “Boy there are a lot of big names here. It’d be a trial just to get names from these guys, let alone work our way to Elita.”

“Yer” Fracture said, browsing through the list of bots. “Although… what ‘ave we got ‘ere. Looks like some library guard. Small fry.”

The others began swiping through the data, trying to find the individual Fracture was talking about.

“Ariel…” Fracture muttered to him. “Yer… she’ll give me the info I need for this job.”

---

Koldar’s Respite, Tycho

For yet another time in the last few months, Orion and Dion found themselves sitting in a pub. This time, however, it was at Orion’s request. The pub was much brighter than the ones they had visited in the past, and far better maintained than them too. As Orion savoured a glass of non-alocholic engex, Dion was digging into a petrorabbit burger.

“Mmmm” Dion said, taking a bit out of the burger. “You know, forgot how good pub food was. You sure you won’t buy anything, Orion.”

“No, I’m content with a drink” Orion replied, staring at the television. “Poor Senator Riger.”

“Hmm?” Dion said, sauce spewing from his mouth. “Oh, right. Riger of Okkuz. That guy. Right. Poor guy. Is he a poor guy? From what I heard, dude drove the Okkuz mineworkers to exhaustion. Some people might say he got what he deserves.”

“He got thrown into one of his rock grinders!” Orion exclaimed. “No matter what he’s done, nobody deserves such brutality.”

“Senate disagrees,” Dion shrugged, before taking another bite of his burger. “So you never said, what we doing here? Seems abrupt for a getaway.”

“Well… I’ve done some thinking” Orion said. “About what happened to me two weeks ago. With Hatchet, and that Thunderclash person. I thought it might be worth broadening our scale.”

“Broadening how?”

“Well… I’ve been thinking. The Anti-Deception Conversation and the Autonomous Robots Equality League have similar goals. So perhaps if we were to, I don’t know, broker some sort of an alliance between the two groups.”

“HAH!” Dion laughed, spitting petro rabbit over Orion. “Good one.”

Dion looked at Orion, who was covered in petrorabbit and sauce. He looked at Dion, before removing his glasses and wiping the sauce of them.

“Oh, you’re serious,” Dion said. “I think you’re being optimistic there. I mean, you heard about that little fight in Uraya? Not to mention what happened to you.”

“Look, it’s a long shot, I’ll admit...” Orion said. “But if we can achieve it, we can exponentially increase our membership, and possibly stem the influence of Megatron’s recent… alliances.”

“So how do you plan on doing that?”

“Well.... I’m still figuring out the details,” Orion said. “But I figured that the best place to start would be to find out more on the AREL, and the best way to do that would be to meet with one of their members.”

“How’d you achieve that then?” Dion asked.

“Well… I asked Thunderclash, the one who helped me, and he said he’d arrange someone to meet us.”

“Who?”

“SALUTATIONS!”

A tall, white Cybertronian entered the pub, his tail swinging behind him. He walked over to the table, pulling up a chair and sat down.

“My friend, three of your finest selections of Engex Vintages,” he said, waving. “Greetings! I assume that you are the ones that my good friend Thunderclash required my services to meet.”

“He’s loud,” Dion whispered to Orion.

“My audio receptors are also finely honed to peak performance!” he loudly replied, startling Dion. “But do not fear! I know it can be intimidating to be in the presence of such an established and well decorated hero as myself.”

“I’m sorry, Thunderclash didn’t formally introduce you...” Orion said.

“Ah, how silly of me! You may call me Sky Lynx, heroic member of the Autonomous Robots Equality League, triple changing master of the winds, and hero of the Threefold War, though you may know of it as the Ultracon Conflict. Now, I hear you chums had some questions about myself and my friends. So please, how may I be of assistance?”

“...I kinda need to discuss an idea for you and your friends to pass along…” Orion started.

---

“I don’t believe this,” Megatron scowled as he saw the news transmission on the front monitor of his new ship’s bridge, “The way they’re framing this is some great tragedy.”

“Media’s in the pocket of the senate,” Stonecrusher shrugged, “They’ll just tell whatever story suits their interest.”

“Their ‘decommissioning’ of the Okkuz mines warranted this kind of reaction,” Kiloton sighed, “When you kill one senator, they’ll get the spotlight and have their whole life romanticized.”

“Yeah, but even at our current strength we couldn’t go and blow up the entire Senate… at least, not right now,” Stonecrusher noted, “Would be way too big a hassle…”

“Plus we’re way too far from Okkuz for such a drastic measure to even affect them until like a year afterwards,” Onslaught noted, “From what I’ve heard, sterilization of the mining sites takes months, so it would be too late.”

“We’d be too late regardless,” Megatron growled, “We can’t do anything for Okkuz, but we can stop such a tragedy from happening again, with the resources that our destination will provide for us.”

“Fingers crossed,” Stonecrusher noted.

“YOU DARE PLACE DOUBT ON MEGATRON’S WORD?!” Lugnut roared from further back.

“Just keeping things realistic, big guy!” Stonecrusher shouted back, “The folk over there tend to be immune to the whole appeal to their moral compass!”

“What’s wrong with their moral compass?” Kiloton asked.

“Oh, it’s less a compass with these guys and more a roulette wheel,” Stonecrusher shrugged.

He looked around to find that most of the other Decepticons at the bridge were looking at him.

“...Roulette wheel? Randomization engine? Look, just…” Stonecrusher paused to find the words, “...just make sure your guard is up at all time around here. One moment they notice a weakness, the next you find yourself missing kibble and components.”

“...Where is this destination you said you were leading us?” Megatron asked.

“You’ll see when we come out of warpspace in three…” Stonecrusher smirked, “two… oneeeeeee now.”

As the ship rumbled as it exitted warpspace, a brilliant blue planet came into view.

“Ladies, gentlemen, whatever you wanna call yourselves,” Stonecrusher gestured to the planet, “...Welcome to Aquatron. The most rebellious world in all the Cybertronian Commonwealth. If every planet was like this in spirit, no man would find himself unwanted.”

“I heard it was a hive of scum and villainy,” Kiloton noted, “Do you really think they’d fall in line with Megatron’s ideals?”

“Do I think they’ll fall in line? No. But they’ll see opportunity,” Stonecrusher smirked, “Met my best bodyguard here during a relatively obscure part of my post-war career.”

“You mean before you became the independent contractor you are today,” Onslaught noted, “Was it during a bender?”

“...I don’t really think it matters,” Stonecrusher pointed out.

“You’d be accurate in that assessment,” Megatron finally spoke up, rising from his chair, “We may find this to be a hive of scum and villainy, but we’re in need of help. And this world would be a start for our new recruitment drive.”

---

“An idea, you say?” Sky Lynx inquired. “What might this idea be?”

“Well.... from what we know, the Autonomous Robots Equality League are at odds with the senate for their… shall we say distasteful policies” Orion said.

“That would be correct” Sky Lynx replied.

“Well, the Anti-Deception Conversation shares a similar distaste to the current senate,” Orion said. “Would it not be beneficial to both parties to unite our collective resources in order to make a more permanent and definitive change.”

“Haven’t the Decepticons indoctrinated many criminal elements into their ranks?” Sky Lynx asked. “I doubt it would do well to mix our ranks with them.”

“I know, but that’s part of the reason,” Orion explained. “If we got more people who really wanted this change, they could help stem any attempt at influence from these… few criminal members. Help ensure that the senate can’t label ADC as a criminal syndicate.”

“But how would you be able to help us?” Sky Lynx asked. “What would the Anti-Deception Conversation be able to bring to the fight against these injustices?”

“We have many members,” Dion explained. “Many of which we have been downtrodden by the senate and would be more than willing to help. Not to mention access to a number of resources, including covert comms equipment, weaponry-”

“The Autonomous Robot Equality League is not a military,” Sky Lynx rebutted. “If you think we’re staging a violent coup, you have a lot to learn about reform. You’d simply be replacing one regime with another.”

“Dion was simply thinking of self-defense,” Orion said. “The senate has proven to be willing to use… violent measures to suppress those they called dissidents.”

“And the Decepticons haven’t? We’ve all seen the riots.”

“Look at it this way, you could teach us a better way...” Orion suggested. “Look what if we set up a meeting. One between Megatron and the AREL’s leader? Discuss possible methods of improvement and what it would take to unite.”

“And therein lies the big problem” Sky Lynx sighed. “Megatron.”

“What d’ya mean?” Dion asked, a mouthful of burger in his mouth.

“Our leader and Megatron have had… dealings in the past,” Sky Lynx elaborated. “While the exact nature of their history is unknown, it did not end well, and as a result, she’s… shall we say, hesitant to work with him again. At the end of the day, it’s her call.”

“Small world,” Dion said.

“So there’s no chance of any alliance?” Orion asked. “So… why even bother coming here?”

“Our leader knows of you,” Sky Lynx said. “She wanted me to extend an invitation to the Autonomous Robot Equality League. Your friend, too, if he’s interested.”

Sky Lynx placed a badge on the table. It was a red symbol resembling a face, with holoprojectors built into the optics. Orion stared at it for a few seconds, before sliding it away.

“I’m sorry, I came here for unity,” Orion sighed. “I can’t defect. Megatron’s a friend, and as much as I don’t agree with some of his choices of allies, I can’t just betray him like this.”

Sky Lynx slid the badge back towards him.

“Keep it,” Sky Lynx replied. “For your consideration. Who knows, you may change your mind.”

With that, Sky Lynx stood up from the table, and clicked his fingers.

“Bartender! Put everything of theirs on the tab of one Sky Lynx!”

With that, Sky Lynx left, leaving Orion and Dion to wonder about his words.

---

Aquatron was just as scummy and villainous as its reputation preceded it to be. Everywhere the Decepticons looked, there was some kind of backroom deal or questionable transaction. Worst was when some random individual, maybe a Sharkticon, attempted to grab something from Megatron in broad daylight. Lugnut shut that down real quickly… along with the individual in question.

“Was that really necessary?” Stonecrusher made the mistake of asking.

“THAT FOOL WAS ATTEMPTING TO ROB US! THE GUARDIANS OF THE FUTURE OF THIS GALAXY!” Lugnut shouted.

“Well, he didn’t know that until you just shouted about it,” Stonecrusher looked over his shoulder, “Also, keep your voice down. Even here the Senate has some guards.”

“Enough,” Megatron spoke harshly, “Enough… bickering. We need to get off the street as soon as we can…”

“What about here?” Onslaught asked, pointing to a nearby bar. One that looked like one of the pricier joints in the area… designated “Tsunami.”

“Oh, this is one of the more happening places on Aquatron,” Stonecrusher smirked, “You’ll be hard pressed to find any place more frequented by the high castes of Aquatron… we best be cautious here, though.”

---

Tsunami, as it turns out, was a vibrant place, filled with both Aquatronians and offworlders of all stripes, with boats and fish talking it up with jets and cars. In such a place, a few minerbots would not stick out so much-

“HEY!” The bartender, a short flier with a rather odd-looking mono-eye head that looked strangely like a drinking mug, interrupted Megatron’s observations and caught his attention, “We don’t serve him here!”

“I beg your pardon?!” Megatron growled in anger, “Miners and equipment bots like us have every right to-”

“No, not you guys, just him!” The bartender pointed directly at Stonecrusher.

“What? Why me?!” Stonecrusher asked indignantly.

“You remember the last time you were here?!”

Stonecrusher briefly pondered.

“Oh, yeah, that,” Stonecrusher chuckled, “Good to see you too, man.”

“We banned you from this establishment after that!” the Bartender shouted, “Get the hell out!”

“...Well, y’all are on your own,” Stonecrusher chuckled, “I’ll be across the street.”

“I suppose that would be best,” Megatron agreed. And with that, Stonecrusher left.

---

Orion and Dion left the pub, Orion a little dejected. As they walked, he fidgeted with the red badge Sky Lynx had given him.

“Well, that went as well as one could hope” Dion said. “I hate to be that guy, Orion, but it’s unlikely to be.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, not to be rude, but just because the two groups have the same end goal, doesn’t mean they’re the same” Dion said. “I mean, the AREL act more like superheroes, trying to fill the gap left by the last group that called themselves the League of Heroes.”

“I just thought that maybe by acting as a middleman, we could get them to see eye-to-eye” Orion sighed. “Didn’t know Megatron had a history with their leader.”

“Hey man, that’s not on you” Dion said, nudging Orion. “You had no way of knowing that.”

Orion stared at the badge as they walked, necessitating Dion to occasionally drag him out of the way of other incoming passerbys. 

“You considering it?” Dion, looking over at the badge.

“I…” Orion started. “No. I meant what I said back there.”

Orion stopped, silently staring at the badge for a few more seconds.

“Would you hold it against me?”

Dion stopped and turned around, noticing Orion had stopped to look at the badge.

“What do you mean?” Dion asked.

“If I left the Anti-Deception Conversation?” Orion asked. “If I joined the Autonomous Robots Equality League?”

“I, uh, well” Dion said, scratching the back of his head. “Tough question, mate.”

Orion let loose a deep sigh.

“Look, buddy, we’ve been friends for a long time” Dion said. “I’ve been in the rutts, I know how bad it can get. I mean, I know I found the ADC first, but when I came to you, I wanted to draw your attention to them, not their attention to you. I mean… between us, you’re the smart one. If you thought there was something wrong with them, I’d have trusted your judgement. So… if you think they’re bad news… if you think the AREL are the way to go… then I’m with you.”

“I… thank you, Dion” Orion said.

“Take one hell of a cataclysm to separate us, Orion” Dion smiled, putting his arm around Orion’s shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go home, spend some time to put it out of our heads till Megsy calls. You can nerd out with your novels and make all the annotations you want.”

“Yeah” Orion said, stuffing the symbol into a compartment on his thigh. “Can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be right now.”

---

The bar had proven to be a dead-end for the Decepticons. In fact, the entire planet proved to be a dead end. Whereever they went, they saw only people apathetic to the ever-so-distant cruelty of the Senate’s rule.

“This was a waste of our time,” Megatron growled as he stepped onto his ship, “The only receptive bot I found was that singer.”

“I didn’t really care for our results here, either,” Kiloton sighed, “But not every planet is going to be apathetic to the affairs of Cybertron.”

“Perhaps not,” Megatron muttered, “Still, would’ve been nice to have something.”

“Unfortunately, it seems that the nature of the colonies is that of apathy,” Kiloton looked out onto the planet, “It benefits the Senate to keep each colony as separate as possible, both economically and socially. Unless we can find a common perspective, we’re going to have a hard time finding anything out here.”

“Indeed you will,” A third voice chimed in.

Within the instant of registering the voice and not being able to recognize it, Megatron and Kiloton whipped out their weapons and aimed it in the direction of the voice. In said direction, a cloaked figure stood, the only visible sign of their nature being a pair of glowing green optics under the shadows of the cloak.

“Well, at least you two got good reflexes.”

“Who are you?” Megatron growled.

“Identify yourself,” Kiloton added.

“Me?” The figure chuckled, “I’m a representative of parties that have learned of your campaign and have expressed interest.”

“What kinds of parties?” Megatron narrowed his optics.

“The kind that see the Senate as an obstacle to their own interests, not to put too fine a point on it,” The figure replied.

“So, what do these “parties” want from us?” Kiloton asked.

“Oh, nothing too great,” The figure replied, “They just sent me to give you a warning.”

“What kind of warning?” Megatron asked.

“Oh, while you were here, our Oracles, the means by which we plan our moves, had visions of Cybertron’s future,” The figure spoke calmly, “Not exactly consistent, but they all involve Senate clampdowns, bloodshed, planetary exterminations… and Orion Pax at the center of it all.”

Megatron’s optics widened.

---

Orion and Dion returned to the door of their flat. Dion let out a sigh as he saw that the lock was once again broken. Dion opened the door, followed by Orion.

“Please, come in, make yourself comfortable” he groaned. “We like to offer the highest quality stay for all our burglars.”

Sitting on their couch, reading one of Orion’s books, sat Ariel. She closed the book, putting it down on the table by the side of the couch.

“She’s one of yours, I’ll let you deal with this” Dion said. “I’ll go shower.”

With that, Dion walked straight into one of the doors adjoining their shared hab quarters, leaving Orion and Ariel alone.

“What does he mean by ‘one of yours’?” Ariel asked.

“Umm… well, you see, he has a lot of dockworkers friends, and he has them over sometimes without letting me know, and one time we were talking about one and I accidentally called them ‘one of his’, and he’s been waiting for the chance to say it to me” Orion awkwardly explain. “To be honest, I didn’t think he’d remember after all this time.”

“Right…” Ariel said. “Anyway, Alpha asked me to drop these files to you to archive when you get in.”

“He did?” Orion asked. “He usually just leaves it on my desk for me to see when I come in.”

“Well, it was on my way home.”

“Don’t you live in the other direction of the archive?”

“I took the scenic route.”

”Can’t be very time effective.”

“Okay, okay” Ariel said. “Does it hurt to check in on a friend.”

“Who were you checking in on?”

“You, you dolt” Ariel replied, facepalming.

“Oh…”

“Anyway, where’d you go?” Ariel asked.

“Oh we were just, uh, sightseeing in Tycho” Orion said. “Seeing the sights. Well, and a pub Dion wanted to visit.”

“Really?” Ariel inquired. “See anything good. Meet anyone famous?”

“Well, uh, no” Orion replied, a little surprised by the question. “Why would we meet anyone? Famous, that is.”

“Oh, you don’t know who you meet, going around other cities” Ariel said, standing up.

“Well, uh, thanks” Orion said. “I’ll have a glance over these tonight. Have a safe trip.”

“Thanks” Ariel said, walking toward Orion, before stopping to his side. “You know, if there’s ever anything you need to talk about, I’m always available.”

“I, uh, thanks” Orion said.

The pair looked at each other, the silence awkwardly filling the room.

“Nothing really comes to mind…” Orion said, trying to look away.

“If you say so” Ariel shrugged. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Right” Orion replied. “See you tomorrow, Ariel.”

After a few more seconds,  Ariel headed out the door, closing it behind her. Orion walked over to the couch and sat down. He looked at the files on the table, but instead of reaching for them, he instead reached into his thigh compartment. He pulled out the red badge Sky Lynx had given him, staring at it, pondering...

Chapter Text

Megatron stared at the window, his optics focusing on each star as they crossed his vision. But his mind did not register any one of them. in his mind, there was only one thing bouncing around.

Orion Pax.

Now, he never took stock in bots who claim to see the future, it's rarely worth giving a minute to think about. But with the recent information he had learned about, it was becoming clear that Orion had graduated from asset to liability in the time since he had left. It would be easy to deal with him, if he wanted. He could call for an assassination, have Orion get lost in the Sea of Rust, or even throttle him with his bare hands. But none of those questions gave him a satisfactory answer - why would Orion turn on him?

"Commander," Kiloton's voice interrupted his musing at last, and Megatron turned to its source. Kiloton herself was standing in the doorway of his quarters, perplexed, "...Is something wrong?"

"Just... contemplating information that came in recently."

"Is it about Orion?"

Megatron did not answer. And Kiloton saw that he didn't need to.

"All things considered, Orion had never been that important to the cause. Even if he did turn on us, like that... individual claimed," Kiloton noted, "...It wouldn't amount to much."

"I know," Megatron replied, "But the question of ‘why he would’ remains regardless."

Kiloton looked to the side, at the window showing the vast cosmos before them.

"...Perhaps we should test his loyalty to the cause," Kiloton suggested.

This caused Megatron's optic ridge to rise.

"What do you mean?"

"We had plenty of encounters with the senate's guards," Kiloton smirked, "When we get back to Cybertron, I think we should talk with them - face to face, and with Orion acting as our... well, I'm going to say representative, but frankly he'll be more akin to a hostage."

"That's true," Megatron thought out loud, "So far, the Senate's operations have always seemed like police action or secretive assassination attempts. If we confront them with someone who isn't on their radar... how willing would they be to act?"

"Exactly my thinking, Commander."

—

The Grand Archive

Orion sat at his terminal, only occasionally looking around to make sure nobody tried anything. As he logged in more information for the records, he couldn't help but feel a strange discontentment.

What's even the point of this, he found himself asking himself internally.

Indeed, that was the question on his mind. Too much had happened recently for him to focus on one thing. Megatron might've been crisscrossing the galaxy in search of allies, but in his absence those that claimed loyalty to him turned on Orion. And when he tried to bring up the idea of a new alliance, those he proposed it to said no flat out.

There's a strange sense that no matter who he turned to at the end of the day, whether it be Autobot or Decepticon... he'd probably regret it. In a way, he also regretted joining this entire controversy. If he just let Dion go on his merry way, if he never interacted with Megatron...

RING! RING!

His communicator? Why was it ringing? Hesitantly, he clicked it.

"Great Archive, you have reached Archivist Orion," Orion spoke as professionally as possible.

"Pax, it's D-16."

This gave him pause.

"Mega-" Orion stopped himself, "Sir, I'm going to have to ask that you-"

"Yes, I'm aware that there're risks to this communication, but listen," Megatron replied, "I'm bouncing this off a communication relay to discuss an… errand you need to take care of. Think you can do that?"

"Yes, sir," Orion replied, "We assure you we got information on the Proudstar Manifest."

"Oh, you're at work. Using codes because you figured it'd be better to be cautious," Megatron sighed, "However, I hear that there’s a group of young rebels who would love a chance to kick Senate tail over a recently passed bill. Think you could talk to them?"

"No, sir, nobody's tested that idea out as far as we know," Orion replied.

"So nobody's tried it yet," Something in Megatron's tone of voice felt like he was smiling, "Good. Means they won't see it coming."

"Sir, senate hours are their business, we don't leak that information publically," Orion replied as sternly as he could.

"But do you think it can work?" Megatron asked.

"I cannot confirm or deny any rumors," Orion replied.

"When I get to Cybertron, we'll talk," Megatron finished.

"I'm sure we will," Orion replied, tapping his communicator to end the call.

—

Lower Iacon

As he drove to the coordinates that Megatron included with his message, he reviewed what information he was able to pick up on these hooligans. Calling themselves the Anibots, they were simple street punks who often staged the odd protest. Why Megatron would be interested in such a group, Orion couldn’t say. In his mind, kids like these would be barely usable as cannon fodder for any major plan Megatron could cook up (Orion briefly pondered why the term cannon fodder came to mind, but dismissed it.)

As he drove up to the street, he changed into robot mode. He knew he had to be casual about the matter. To keep calm. To not look like a threat… 

A loud, crashing thud echoed on the street behind him. Turning, he saw a massive jetformer having landed on the street. Purple armor enveloped his form, with a greyish teal covering his hands, legs, and head… or helm. The most concerning thing Orion noted about this being’s appearance with the facial structure, a simple design with a massive faceguard below a single crimson optic.

“Uhhhhhh…” Orion stammered, “Hey there?”

The figure stood on his feet, towering over Orion and staring him down.

“I… take it you’re here to provide backup if, y’know… something goes wrong?”

“...Among other things,” The mech growled.

“Okay, okay,” Orion sighed, “Uh, Orion Pax.”

“I know who you are,” The being replied, “That is why I am here.”

“Okay, but… what do I call you?” Orion asked.

“...Lugnut,” He finally replied.

“Alright, Lugnut,” Orion said, “It seems we’ll be working together to deal with these guys. So tell me, what do you know about them? I want to make sure we have the right idea.”

“The Anibots,” Lugnut noted, “Just a few nonstandards with an axe to grind. Once we give them purpose, they will act in the interest of Megatron.”

“Well, on that first part we’re agreed,” Orion replied, “But I suggest we exercise caution. If these guys see us as a threat… well, we might have trouble.”

“You might have trouble,” Lugnut growled back, “I will do what needs to be done, in order to make sure the glorious new world that Megatron will bring to Cybertron shines in everyone’s eyes…”

“Out of curiosity, what did Megatron do to get you into this?” Orion asked.

“Megatron’s glory was all I needed to know what was to be done,” Lugnut answered, “As I laid my optics upon his manifesto, Towards Peace, I knew what had to be done to end the pain of our race, and to ensure our glorious shining future-”

“WOW! What a weak motivation!” A third voice shouted.

Lugnut turned to its origin… a small Felinicon sitting on the wall behind them, a mischievous grin on their cheeky face.

“And here I thought you guys had something we could get behind,” the Felinicon chuckled.

“You dare speak of my loyalty as a weakness, Anibot,” Lugnut growled.

“Weakness? Well, maybe it’d be alright if you weren’t backing a sentient dumpster fire,” The cat replied.

“YOU DARE SPEAK OF MEGATRON IN SUCH A MANNER?!” Lugnut roared, beginning a charge at the felinicon…

…As soon as he was upon him, the very ground shifted and moved like water, binding itself to Lugnut. Before Lugnut could struggle, he was neck deep in the road.

“Alright, looks like the Decepticons are down a player. Good work, Clump!” The felinicon put a thumbs up to a patch of ground next to Lugnut. As if on cue, the patch of ground wiggled like water, allowing a massive Ceratoid to emerge, the distinct horn seeming to glow with a red flare.

“It wasn’t easy finding a patch of ground hard enough to trap the big con, but luckily his little charge distracted him just long enough for me to find it,” The Ceratoid, Clump as Orion surmised, noted with a distinct flare of analytical sharpness.

“Yeah, thanks for the help, man!” the Felinicon turned to Orion.

“Uh… you’re welcome, but this was really unnecessary,” Orion replied, “Really, me and my companion didn’t come here for a fight. We came here to extend an offer.”

“Let me guess,” A new voice replied. Turning, Orion saw its origins as a large and imposing Fellion approaching, “You intend to ask us to join the Decepticons on behalf of this Megatron.”

“Um,” Orion sighed, “Yes.”

“And I don’t suppose,” The Fellion spoke evenly, “They let you know that they’ve approached us about the matter twice before hand, and we rejected both times?”

“They… didn’t,” Orion replied, “For that, I must apologize.”

“For someone so close to the mighty Megatron, you’d think that he’d let you know more,” The Fellion noted.

“I… suppose that is certainly odd,” Orion noted.

“Indeed. Perhaps he doesn’t trust you enough?”

“I don’t blame him. I’ve been… concerned about some of his plans,” Orion noted.

“WHAT?! YOU DARE THINK SUCH TERRIBLE THINGS?! TRAITOR!” Lugnut roared from his position embedded in the ground, “TRAAAAAAAAITOR!”

“Ah, shuddup!” The Felinicon shouted back and jumped onto his head, “So noisy.”

“No need for that, Pardo,” Clump called out, “Mufarseer, you might wanna hurry this up.”

“Ah, of course,” Mufarseer (or at least the Fellion that Orion was thinking Clump was calling out) replied, “Orion… we will not be joining Megatron’s little cult. But I have another idea. You should leave Megatron. Live your life freely. Let yourself be content.”

“I…” Orion trailed off.

“TRAAAAAAAAAAAITORRRRRRRRR!” Lugnut roared again… but now the very ground was quaking.

“Guys! I underestimated how strong he was! We gotta get out of here, now!” Clump shouted.

“I… I can’t. There’s still so much wrong in this world. So much injustice…” Orion replied.

This gave Lugnut pause.

“I cannot force you to join,” Orion finished his reply, “Nor can I take up your offer.”

“I… I see,” Mufarseer replied, seemingly satisfied… or saddened? “Clump, let our giant friend go.”

“You got it, boss,” Clump placed a hand on the ground. Lugnut began to rise.

“Sorry about how this turned out, Lugnut,” Orion turned to him, “I guess you had your heart set out on them joining the cause.”

“On one hand, I did,” Lugnut replied, “But on the other hand, their rejection gives me the perfect excuse.”

“Perfect excuse for what?” Orion asked as he finally exited the ground.

“To deal with potential competition.”

Orion couldn’t help but shudder at that, stammering out “But-but they’re letting us go without a figh-”

“Lord Megatron has plans for this world,” Lugnut replied, “We cannot allow any distractions… and especially not any wild cards.”

And with that, Lugnut swung at Pardo with a brutal swiftness Orion didn’t even know he was capable of. To Orion’s further surprise, Pardo dodged it with ease, with the pattern repeating with every one of Lugnut’s attempted strikes.

“Clump, mind giving your buddy a hand?!” Pardo shouted as he dodged another swing.

Nodding, Clump slammed his hands on the ground, the street below Lugnut rippling like water again. But this only allowed Lugnut to turn. With another swing, Lugnut struck him square across the jaw, sending the Ceratoid flying into a nearby building.

Orion gazed on in shock. The fact that Lugnut was so willing to fight… it was becoming clear that Megatron wasn’t even considering a peaceful option here. And Orion began to wonder, what did Megatron really want. A better world? Or a chance at revenge, damn the consequences?

“It seems that Lugnut never planned on leaving peacefully,” Mufarseer noted. Orion felt the Fellion’s hand grasp his shoulder, and his voice rang in his ears, “Do yourself a favor and run.”

With a single motion, Mufarseer tosses Orion as far away from the fight as Orion had ever seen a bot toss another. As he skidded across the road, Orion could see the Fellion approach Lugnut, his fingertips emitting points of energon plasma crackling with power…

“ENERGON CLAW SPECIAL TECHNIQUE!” The Fellion roared as he charged, "LION KING SLASH!"

At that moment, Mufarseer ceased to be a coherent image in Orion’s eyes, his arms blurring with motion and light. The only clear things were his legs, staked on the ground, and his distinct face, twisted into a beastly rage.

Lugnut, for his part, ceased swinging and held up his arms to protect himself. Every streak of light, every slash, ripped across it, leaving a clear line of light metal where they landed, but seemingly unaffected otherwise.

Lugnut then strikes Mufarseer in the abdomen, ceasing the Fellion’s movement. Mufarseer feel to the ground, his face transforming again to one of fear and agony. Lugnut raised his arm again…

“OH NO YOU DONT!” Pardo shouted, jumping up onto Lugnut’s frame and climbing in seconds to his head. Lugnut barely had time to register this when Pardo began slamming his fists against Lugnut’s helm, a strange azure energy emitting from his arms and seemingly enhancing his blows…

In a minute of enduring this, Lugnut reached up and grabbed Pardo, seemingly unaffected by his assault, and threw the Felinicon at the ground right below him. Pardo coughed up internal energon on impact, his frame seemingly to lose all piston control and going limb.

“Enough of this,” Lugnut growled. He raised his arm again, but it seemed to transform. The new configuration was a cylindrical, almost rounded cone form, with a massive red button at the center. “Allow me to show you a real ‘Special Technique’… Punch of Kill Everything!”

Lugnut roared as he swung his fist (bomb?) down, and Orion could do nothing but watch… or at least, his mind could. In every moment of Orion’s life before, Orion’s mind had control over his actions. Every move he made deliberate. But at this moment, something else seemed to take over.

At that very moment, Orion moved without even making the thoughts to conduct such an action, his body putting itself between the behemoth with an explosive for an arm, and the small Felinicon. Hands held out, Orion caught the attack mid motion, his superstrength once used only for moving large piles of records or statues now kicking in to hold back the titan’s blow.

This gave Lugnut pause, Orion couldn’t tell if the face looking at him was in disbelief, rage, or even curiosity, but it was pretty clear that whatever emotion he was feeling wouldn’t remain long.

“DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND RUN!” Orion shouted.

Mufarseer, reaching quickly, dragged Pardo from under Orion and scooped the small Felinicon under his arm.

“Thank you, Orion,” The Fellion spoke quickly, and turned away from the two, bolting down the street and converting to a rather plain-looking cargo hauler. Clump followed suit, turning into an armored vehicle of some sort, and the three of them vanished into the night.

Lugnut lifted his arm from Orion’s grasp, converting it back into its regular hand formation, and glowered at the archivist.

“WHY WOULD YOU BE SO DEFIANT?!” Lugnut roared.

“Why would I?! Why would you be so crazy as to try and murder them in broad daylight?!” Orion shouted back, “I mean, really?! What, do you want troopers on us for this?!”

“The senate and their lackeys can send a thousand troopers, and I’d obliterate them all!”

“Okay, but what about the next thousand? Or the thousand after that?” Orion asked, “Sooner or later they’re going to overwhelm you, and when that happens, they’ll take whatever information they want right out of your processor. It’ll lead them straight to Megatron, and then nothing will change. The senate will still be in power. Injustice will still reign. And Megatron will never have his glory. Is that what you want?!”

Lugnut remained silent for a while. Then…

“You have a point, Orion Pax,” Lugnut growled, “But today you did more then save your aft. You stopped us from dealing with a potential roadblock in the future. And that’s strike one.”

Orion’s optics widened.

“As for now, I shall have to retreat. I suggest you go home,” Lugnut transformed back into his jet mode and flew off, leaving Orion with questions.

“Strike one”? Was Megatron waiting for him to screw up three more times?

What was next on Megatron’s to-do list?

As Orion transformed into his vehicle form and departed, he failed to notice someone watching from a building nearby.

“Elita, this is Ignitor,” the figure spoke into her comlink, “The Anibots have retreated and Lugnut has departed. Orion’s returning to his normal routine. This was apparently Strike One.”

“Not good,” her comlink buzzed, “Keep an eye on Orion. Chances are we’re going to have to bail him out sooner or later.”

“Understood.”

—

Iacon Market

It was late. Ariel walked through the now silent market alone. The owners of the stalls were long gone, and few would use this way for a shortcut. Night was when the undesirables came out. Normally, they wouldn’t hassle Ariel while she had her spear clipped to her back, and those that tried learnt the hard way why not. But tonight, one of them fancied their chances.

High on a rooftop, overlooking the market, the Terrapoid Mercenary Torr hunkered down in his shell. His kibble covered his frame, and in the night he’d look like part of the skyline. Lying on his chest, he aimed an energy sniper at Ariel, watching her through the scope.

“There you are” Torr whispered to himself. “Boy, I’d like to have real rounds loaded up, but they want you alive, so stun rounds’ll have to do.”

Torr continued watching, only for something to obscure his scope. It was black, dripping down the other end of the scope. Soon, this black substance started dripping all over Torr’s shell. Torr slid his finger over the black substance. He looked at it. It seemed familiar. He licked the substance, and began tasting it in his mouth.

“Mmm” Torr mused. “Tastes like oil. Why is it raining oil?”

“It ain’t” came a voice.

Torr knew that voice. It sounded familiar. And then it hit Torr. He looked to his right and saw the figure of one of the fellow mercenaries recruited by Soundwave, Oil Pan. Oil Pan had his foot raised behind him, ready for a powerful kick.

“You’re lucky I’m just using the oil so I can kick you further out the way rather than torching you” Oil Pan said. “But I really thinking a Terrapoid bonfire would be really obvious, wouldn’t it?”

“DON’T YOU-”

Oil Pan kicked Torr, sending the Terrapoid spinning across the rooftop, before crashing into an alleyway, bouncing between the walls, finally crashing into an open bin.

“And off he goes!” Oil Pan chuckled. “I only wish it was lethal! Now, as for the other one I’m only able to incapacitate.”

Oil Pan turned around to face his target, only to find that market was now empty. Oil Pan leapt down to ground level and looked around, trying to see where she went.

“Dammit” Oil Pan hissed. “Maybe Octane was right when he told me to stop having fun taking out the opposition and just get the job done.”

Oil Pan stopped and mused his situation.

“But it ain’t over. There’s plenty more opportunity. After all, I know where you work, Ariel.”

Chapter Text

Orion sat in his apartment, a datapad in hand. His hands were shaking. His recent trip with Lugnut had left him a bit perturbed to say the least. As he moved to change pages, he mistakenly flipped through several at once.

“Hmm hmmmmmmmmmmm” came Dion, humming along to some music he was listening to in his headphones. “Hmm hmm hmmmmmmmmmmm!”

“Hey, uh, Dion” Orion said, trying to get Dion’s attention with a wave. “Dion!”

“Hmm?” Dion responded, removing his headphones. “Wassup?”

“Do you mind humming a little more quietly” Orion asked. “Got a bit of a headache.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah sure.”

“Thank you” Orion said, returning to his book.

Dion looked at his friend, before walking over and sitting next to him.

“Hey… that business the other day’s really hit you hard” Dion said.

“Has it?”

“Okay, I’m saying the obvious. I’m just thinking maybe you should see if you can call in sick or something. You look worse for wear as it is.”

“So I can do some more of those ‘errands’ for Megatron?” Orion frowned.

“So you can get some time to yourself and rest” Dion said. “Hell, if you need me out of the way just say.”

“No, focusing on the archive is the one place I can keep a piece of mind,” Orion replied. “I can get a bit of time where I can just focus on datafiles and books. Stay in my own little world. You don’t need to go anywhere.”

“Hey, mate, I’m worried about you.”

Their conversation was disrupted by a knock at the door.

“You should get that,” Orion suggested.

Dion walked to the door. He opened slightly ajar, making sure his body took up the open space. Behind it, he found a small black and blue carbot.

“Scoredrive” Dion acknowledged. “Look, I’m sorry mate, but you can’t leave our neighbours deliveries with us. You have to leave them at the front desk.”

“Oh, I know,” Scoredrive said. “I don’t work for the delivery company anymore. Courier for the you know whats now.”

“The you know wha- ohhhhhhhhh”

“Yeah, I got a message for an Orion Pax…” Scoredrive replied. “All the way from the big boss.”

“I’ll pass it on,” Dion said.

“Well I really should give it directly to him.”

Scoredrive to pass my Dion, but Dion simply responded by partially closing the door, making sure Scoredrive couldn’t get in.

“He’s not available,” Dion snapped. “Anything for him, you can leave with me, got it?”

“It's okay,” Orion said, approaching the door. “I’ll take it.”

“Ah, good,” Scoredrive said as Orion opened the door up. “Big boss wants to meet you at Sherma’s Bridge. South side. Dusk. They have a job for you. Vitally important. Need to tell you in person.”

“Well, thank you” Orion said. “Tell him I’ll be there.”

“Him?” Scoredrive asked as Orion closed the door.

“You can’t be seriously thinking of doing this so soon after…” Dion said, concerned. “You aren’t in a good state.”

“Oh, I’ll just take a subsystem refresher,” Orion said, opening up a cabinet.

“You’ve been taking a lot of them recently.”

“They’re not circuit speeders or anything like that,” Orion said as he took out a packet. “They’re just minor pain relief. Just for the headaches.”

“Yeah, but you probably shouldn’t be taking them everyday.”

Orion pulled two metallic pellets out of the packet, and put them on their kitchen counter. He then pulled out a glass and filled it with energon.

“I think they’re the only reason I’ve still been able to sleep the last month or so,” Orion sighed, looking at the pellets.

Orion picked the pellets up and put them in mouth, before swallowing. Then he drank the energon, washing down the pellets.

“Like I said, I’m just concerned,” Dion said.

“There’ll be light at the end of this tunnel” Orion replied. “There always has to be.”

With that, Orion left the apartment, leaving Dion looking at the empty glass and the packet on the counter. Dion sighed and put the packet away, then picking up the glass to wash it.

---
Iacon Archive
Ariel had finished her first circuit of the Iacon Archive on the patrol route. Having done the bulk of the floors, she descended the steps into the main foyer. As she started her second lap by entering the lower floor archives, she started hearing a voice.

“Come on…” came a voice.

Ariel clutched her spear and quickly darted behind one of shelves of datapads. She slowly crept past the shelf, looking to locate the source. Keeping out of sight, she managed to spot a bot. A gold carbot with a dark blue helmet. Patron who got locked in? Ariel crept around to get a better look. The bot was currently boredly pulling out datapads with one hand, looking at the title, then putting them away. There was something in the other… a pistol. Definitely not a late patron.

“Stand down!” Ariel yelled, stepping out. “Put the weapon down!”

“What?” the bot said, confused. “Wait, no!”

The bot pointed his blaster straight at Ariel. Ariel rushed forward, knocking his arm with her spear before he could pull the trigger. The gun fired off towards the ceiling, taking out one of the lights.

“Come quie- ACK!” the bots yelled as Ariel sweeped his legs with her spear.

The bot fell backwards. His gun flying out of his hands as his back hit the floor. He tried to reach for it, but Ariel was having none of it. She knocked the gun away with her spear, before striking the head to subdue him.

“Yooooouuuuu…” the bot said as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Ariel clipped her spear to her back, before kneeling down and trying to find some form of identification on her attacker. From the other side of the room, Alpha Trion came rushing in.

“What happened?” Alpha asked, concerned. “I heard a gunshot!”

“We had an intruder,” Ariel said as she searched. “Armed.”

“Any idea who he is?”

“I’m hoping he has something that will tell us,” Ariel said, looking. “Ahah!”

From a small compartment, Ariel pulled out some sort of badge. It was gry with scarlet optics, but did not resemble either of the badges known to be used by Cybertronian factions, though similar in basic design. Ariel pressed a button, and the optics of the badge glowed, showing a small holographic screens.

“Seems he’s a mercenary” Ariel said, reading the screen. “Member of the guild on the Tetramand Homeworld. It says his name Oil Pan.”

“Oh, he wouldn’t be the first mercenary to try and break in here…” Alpha sighed. “The archive holds a great wealth of information. Different things may be of high value to some parties. Occupation hazard, you could say.”

“Well, he was rifling through the datapads. Maybe he was looking for one in particular.”

“Or maybe he was bored. Rifling till them until what he was after presented itself.”

“Well, we can’t be too careful,” Ariel said. “We may need to bump up security.”

“Oh, alright,” Alpha groaned. “But I hate when this sort of thing happens. This place is one for public learning, among other things. I fear the added security may be of some discomfort.”

“Well, we have to be careful.”

“I know. I’ll call in the morning.”

“Okay, go get some rest. I can handle it from here.”

“If I must. Goodnight Ariel.”

“Goodnight Alpha.”

As Alpha left, Ariel looked down at the unconscious Oil Pan. Couldn’t really leave him out here alone, but still had to do her rounds. No holding cells, Alpha hated the idea. Only one thing for it. She’d have to lock him in the cleaning closet till law enforcers arrived. She sighed and grabbed Oil Pan’s arm, dragging him toward the nearest closet, hoping to get back to her route soon.
---
Sherma’s Bridge
Orion walked along the side of the road beneath Sherma’s bridge. The sun had almost completely crept beneath the city skyline, and it was dark enough that Orion had his biolights on at full power. As he passed directly under the bridge, he spotted someone standing ahead of him, blanketed in darkness.

“Turn that off,” the stranger said.

“I’m sorry… I’d rather not” Orion said. “I’m just here to… meet someone.”

“Megatron is indisposed, so you’re meeting me, Pax” the stranger said. “And it would be smart not to say you’re meeting anyone, period.”

“I… sorry, who are you?”

“I am Kiloton” the figure introduced themself as they stepped out of the light. “Megatron requested I deliver your next trial.”

“So we’ve dropped the pretence of these being errands, then?” Orion sighed.

“I will be blunt, Pax,” Kiloton said, folding her arms. “I don’t trust you. I need to see proof that you’re in this. We need proof you believe in what the ADC are trying to do.”

“What is it you want?”

Kiloton glanced around, ensuring they were alone, before turning back to Orion.

“We require a file from the Iacon Archive. You are in a position to create a copy of it. We seek article J-42-”

“The Shadow Index?!” Orion exclaimed. “That stuff’s top secret. It’s encrypted! I can’t access it! I mean, a directory of all the non-decomissioned boltholes from the past wars. I mean, Vanguard, Predacon, Combatron, Ultracon. It’d be useless.”

“Incorrect. You cannot read it. As archivist, you are able to move and copy it, should you be requested by an official. This puts you in a position to create a copy for us. We can take care of the decryption process.”

“But… that’s incredibly risky! Dangerous even!”

“Then don’t get caught,” Kiloton firmly stated, turning around. “If you are loyal to the cause, then it should be easy. And if you decide you cannot pull through with it… well, Megatron may not have the spark for it with you, but I don’t tolerate loose ends.”

“I…”

“Goodnight.”

Orion watched as Kiloton vanished into the night. He felt like his ingestion unit had jumped up into his throat. But what choice did he have…”

---
Shuttle Nox, Kelrok System
Aboard a Decepticon shuttle, Megatron and Soundwave silently sat in the cockpit. Megatron watched Soundwave’s hands on the controls. This was the first time the two of them had properly had alone, yet not a word of conversation passed between them. Finally, the silence was cut by the comms signalling. Relieved, Megatron pressed the button, and the a hologram of Kiloton appeared.

“I’ve given Orion his next mission” Kiloton said. “How are things on your ends.”

“Good to know,” Megatron replied. “And we’re enroute to the mine. We’ve had minimal interference from any patrol craft.”

“Scans: negative contacts,” Soundwave added. “At present rate should make destination in two hours.”

“Quiet ride, then,” Kiloton mused. “Possibly too quiet. Be careful.”

“Utmost alert: underway,” Soundwave stated.

“He means we’ll be careful,” Megatron translated. “If our intel’s correct, then the miners of this system should be willing to join our cause.”

“Hopefully that intel is accurate then,” Kiloton said. “It would not surprise me if the senate had their thugs attempt to deceive us with a sting operation.”

“Then we’ll be very careful” Megatron replied. “Will you be alright holding down the fort on Cybertron.”

“Yes, that should be easy. Just make sure you return in one piece.”

“Of course. Over and out.”

As Kiloton’s hologram faded, Megatron turned to look at Soundwave, who was pressing at several buttons on the console.

“We should-”

“Establishing connection with agent at Omnicon Dig Site Theta-Theta-Two,” Soundwave stated as he typed.

“Yes, that…”

Suddenly, the shuttle lurched sideways and the cockpit was bathed in red. Alarms began sounding as Soundwave tightly gripped the controls.

“What just happened?” Megatron asked as the shuttle rattled and shook.

“Port side engine has sustained critical damage. Likely implement was projectile weapon of unknown starship. Stealth technology likely used to avoid attention. Course control no longer option.”

“Speak basic!” 

“We are crashing!”

The shuttle spun out of control as fire spread from one of its engines. The shuttle barreled into the atmosphere of a nearby moon, punching a whole through the cloudline. Rapidly approaching a fractured surface, the shuttle smashed through the weak ground with a plume of dirt and sand. Still the shuttle fell, breaking through layers of thing, brittle rock with force, before finally smashing into something hard. In that instant, everything went black for Megatron and Soundwave.
---
Iacon Archive
Walking as he tapped away at the screen in his hand, Orion couldn't help but feel like he was being watched. Subtly attempting to look over his shoulder, he saw nothing out of place. As the night approached, less and less bots were occupying the building. Soon, he would likely be alone in this wing of the Archive...

...and he would have to act.

As the last patron in his line of sight shuffled off for the night, Orion sighed. Walking as casually as possible so that the security guards didn't think much on it, Orion made his way to the shelf where, as his records mentioned, the Shadow Index would likely be.

Plugging his datapad into the nearby socket, he tapped away to access the index. It was a text file that was full of seemingly random numbers and letters - one that would seem innocuous to the average bot, but any bot with the right training would recognize them to be encrypted coordinates. Tapping select all, Orion quickly copied the information to a new text file and closed the index.

Unplugging the datapad, Orion turned to see a guard walking by. Offering a brief wave, Orion was answered by a professional but clearly apathetic nod.

Everything was in order now. Orion made his way to his desk, intending to clock out, walk out, send the file to Kiloton, and move on.

What he didn't intend to do was find a red jet bot casually relaxing at his desk, seemingly waiting for him.

"...Uh. Ma'am, I think you're waiting in the wrong room," Orion began.

"Orion Pax?" The bot replied.

"...Yes. And you are?"

"They call me Elita 1. Leader of the League of Autonomous Robots," The jet-bot replied, "I was told you were hoping to meet with me."

Orion's eyes widened. The jetbot got up from Orion's Desk and walked over.

"Do I have to take a seat or should I stand?" Elita asked.

"Uh, do what you will," Orion replied, walking over to his own seat.

"So, I don't intend to alarm you," Elita spoke as he did so, "But recent information has come to my attention regarding your... association with the Anti-Deception Conversation."

Orion looked around and said, "Ah, rumors. Sometimes they can be so-"

"Relax," Elita replied, "I don't answer to the senate. In fact, I see the senate's current status as a bit of a failure, one that should be corrected."

"I see," Orion replied, "But perhaps you could use our help for that goal-"

"Not a chance," Elita snapped, "The Decepticons will likely be even worse by the end of it."

"And what makes you think that?" Orion asked, the question slipping out before he could ponder it further.

"Because I know Megatron," Elita replied, "and he's not the kind to self-regulate."
---
Cave System, Uncharted Moon
Megatron was the first to awake. Finding himself on the floor of the shuttle, he picked himself to find him covered in glass, some superficial cuts on his chassis. The window had been completely shattered, and looking through it he could see the shuttle had gotten wedged in a narrow shaft, suspended just above a cave chamber.

“Ooooh…” Megatron groaned as he rubbed his head. “How long was I out? Soundwave.”

Megatron looked across to see Soundwave slumped on the console. Megatron pulled himself up, trying to navigate the now slanted cockpit bridge without sliding down. Pulling Soundwave off his chair, Megatron slung his comrade over the shoulder and stood on the console, preparing to jump down to the chamber below. As he stood on the console, the shuttle shook,.

“Well, that helps” Megatron groaned. “Tried to get out and my drop the shuttle on myself. Still, not like I have a choice.”

Megatron leapt through the window, carrying Soundwave down the shaft and landing in the chamber below. Though stumbling as he land, he safely was able to keep his footing. Megatron put Soundwave down and began to check him. Looking, he found one of Soundwave’s legs had sustained some damage to it. As Megatron began looking to patch the wounds, Soundwave began to move.

“Urgh…” Soundwave said, stirring from unconsciousness. “Query… what happened?”

“We appear to have been shot down” Megatron said. “We crashed on this planetoid, and seemed to have it with enough force to descend through several levels of caves. And it seems our impact caused several shards of debris to cut through your leg, so if you’ll stay still, I’ll try and patch you up.”

“That is not necessa- nngh!” Soundwave winced in pain as he tried to put pressure on his foot.

“I think it is” Megatron said, easing Soundwave back to a resting position.

Megatron pulled out a chip from a compartment on his hip and inserted it into his arms. Megatron changed colours to a deep blue and red scheme, the chip providing him the talent of Magnetokinesis. Using his talent, Megatron began sensing Soundwave’s leg for any embedded shards of metal and slowly pulling them out.

“What shot us down?” Soundwave asked.

“No idea” Megatron replied. “I doubt it’ll take long to find out though. Can you make contact with anyone.”

“Negative” Soundwave replied. “Though the depth is indeterminate, it is sufficient enough to dampen my communications.” 

The pair returned to silence as Megatron returned to work. After several minutes, however, Megatron looked up, sighing.

“Tell me about yourself” Megatron requested.

“I… do not understand?” Soundwave queried.

“I want to learn about you” Megatron said. “We’ve come to know each other a while now, yet I still know little about you.”

“Is this relevant?”

“Yes, I’d say so. I’m aware you’ve started collating all data on everyone’s joined our cause. I imagine I’m not exempt. I think it’s only fair to learn a bit about you too.”

“I…”

There was another moment of silence as Soundwave considered this. He and Megatron had worked together for some time, but this was the first interest he had shown in him. Really, this was the first time anyway had shown any form of interest in Soundwave as an individual rather than a tool.

“Stellar Cycle 312 AI” Soundwave stated. “Mons: 3. Del: 19. 06:55. Subject Beta for Project Resonance. First and only successful subject.”

“The Age of Invasion…” Megatron mused.

“I was Constructed Cold early into the war” Soundwave stated. “Hardwired into a relay system to serve as the heart of Combatronian Communications. A sentient switch board.”

“You were… oh, Soundwave, I’m so sorry.”

“I was released on Tuurok during the final month of the war. I fled the planet, only to find myself treated as bad as those that actually fought the war for the Combatronians. I found myself being free of one oppression into another. I vowed then I would never be a tool again, no matter what lengths it took.”

“And then you joined the Decepticons…”

“I saw the opportunity to fight back against the oppression. You cannot fathom my belief in the course, nor the lengths I will go to fight for it. Because we must be prepared to go to any length. The Senate will do so to oppose it.”

“I fear from my experience you might be right…”

Megatron pulled the talent chip from his arm and exchanged it for another. His colours changed to a red and white colour scheme, his talent switching from Magnetokinesis to Assisted Recover. Megatron placed his hand on Soundwave’s leg, and as it glowed, Soundwave’s wounds began to heal.

“Those chips?” Soundwave questioned

“A gift from another interested party” Megatron said. “A way for me to make use of my own talent without needing someone present to copy.”

Megatron removed his hand from Soundwave’s leg, the latter’s wounds having completely healed. Megatron grabbed Soundwave’s hand, pulling the blue Decepticon up to his feet.

“Now, any suggestions on how we get out of here?” Megatron asked, his colour returning normal as he removed his talent chip. 

“Afraid there’s only one way” came a new voice. “In caskets.”

A tall green truckbot emerged from a pass on the opposite side of the chamber. This hulking bot seemed to be covered in weapons and ammo, toting a pair of heavy rifles in his hands. He looked between the pair through a bright red visor.

“Name’s Flak” the figure introduced themselves. “And the senate must really want you dead to hire me. So make peace with whatever deities you worship - while I make pieces of you.”
---
"Not the type to self-regulate?" Orion raised an optic ridge.

"He's a mech of extremes," Elita elaborated, "It doesn't matter if a slight against him is just a misunderstanding, he will react with violence. And he's surrounded by sycophants who want to keep causing chaos. So that doesn't really help."

Orion looked confused, "And you would know this how?"

Elita sighed and looked straight at Orion, "Because before I founded the Autobots, I helped him start his revolution."

Orion's optics widened again.

"Yes, I know. He hasn't mentioned me, and it honestly seems strange that someone who helped found the Decepticons wants to keep them from their prize," Elita shook her head, "But in truth, I didn't know what I unleashed back then."

"Maybe if you explain further, I might be able to give you an idea," Orion replied, honestly curious.

"Alright. So tell me. What do you know of Metapowers?"

"Metapowers are a common term used to describe unusual abilities present in one Cybertronian but not others of their model-line," Orion replied, reciting a passage he had read on the subject, "Other known terms include Super-Ability, Individual-Variant-Feature, Gift, Outlier Ability... or Talent."

"And tell me, what are your views of such a phenomenon?" Elita asked.

"I see them as an unusual but ultimately irrelevant fact of life," Orion replied, "Not all bots are created equal in their abilities."

"Nor in their status," Elita replied, "In the eyes of the Functionist Council, a group dedicated to organising us by what makes us the same and how we can contribute to their society, such powers are a massive complication. But one they could easily ignore as a result of outside phenomena."

"And what does the Functionist Council have to do with Megatron?"

"Everything," Elita replied, "He was built for the mines of Messatine under specs they approved, designs they deemed worthy. Most of the lower castes were. And tell me, where do you think most of the Talented come from?"

"There haven't been any official reports on the matter," Orion replied, "But all records suggest that the majority of Outliers were constructed cold or kindled."

"In the eyes of the Council, the development of Metapowers is a result of their own hubris, and one they can cover up with ease," Elita replied, "But there have been instances of Forged developing such abilities for themselves."

"Because they were exposed to similar phenomena," Orion replied, "Everyone's at least kinda aware."

"And how do you explain those situations where the Forged came with such abilities right off the bat?"

"I don't have to," Orion replied, "There haven't been any records of such."

"And who keeps track of who was forged and what they can do?"

Orion paused for a second, racking his brain for such information.

"It falls to individuals who follow the Council," Elita explained, "And they'll likely quietly snuff out any bot who shows abilities early so that they don't feel the wrath of the Council on their hands."

Orion narrowed his optics, "And you know this because...?"

"Because I know how far the Council is willing to go for their own power," Elita answered, "Tell me. What do you know about the Facility 113 incident?"

"It was a major tragedy, happened the day I came online," Orion replied, optics downcast, "A thousand sparks snuffed before their time in the light because of a simple miscalculation with the power generators."

"You know what they told you," Elita replied, "But I'm going to let you know a little bit of a prelude."

"Okay?"

"Five days before the incident, one protoform was brought into the facility, still cooling and developing into its natural design. As the technician was shutting the lights down for the night, he noticed a strange ethereal light from this protoform. This strange aura emitted from the young bot who had cooled into her armor colors, and the technician knew he had to bring these reports to the Council."

Orion listened on, surprised.

"Quickly examining the protoform's biometrics, they quickly came to the conclusion... This was a child born of Primus's will with powers beyond the extraordinary. A sign that the outlier might be part of Primus's plan, and that they misinterpreted something. A sign that the foundation they stood upon was... failable."

Elita's face grew dour.

"And rather than face that truth, they resolved to destroy this protoform - all of her kin - even the very facility. And like that, the events of the 113 incident were set in motion."

"There were riots in the street that day," Orion replied, pulling up the records, "People were questioning if the Senate could hope to keep our future safe."

"The Functionists saw the Senate as a means to an end, not an ally," Elita replied, "And they were perfectly happy with that means to an end taking a few potshots for their crime against Cybertron."

"The lengths the Council will go to keep their power..." Orion replied, "...Surely you can see them as a common enemy! Child-murderers of the highest order. They killed a thousand protoforms because one was wrong in their eyes..."

"Actually," Elita smirked, "They only managed to kill nine hundred and ninety nine."

"...What?" Orion stopped.

"Their target managed to escape the tragedy alive. Got adopted by some of the bots sent to clean up the mess. Kid didn't even realise how many lives were lost that day until years later. And she didn't even care that much for her gifts," Elita replied, "In fact... she gave them away."

"WHAT."

"Yeah. Turns out that aura she generated? It was a side effect of her actual abilities, the power to grant bots around her strange new powers that fit with their soul. Talent Generation, they called it. She traversed the galaxy on any ship she hopped on, giving any bot she found in need of a change in their lives a talent of their own. This led to a spike in outlier abilities that some called 'Primus's Wrath,' and more called 'The Talent Advent.'"

"...Okay," Orion tapped the table, "So, what you're saying is... actually, I don't get it. What the hell does this have to do with Megatron, the Decepticons, anyone?"

"You get impatient sometimes," Elita grinned, "But very well. You see, in her travels this girl saw a widespread degree of downtroddenness, and it took a book she found to articulate it - A book titled "Towards Peace." Enamoured by this mech's writing and spurred on by a hatred of injustice, she sought out this mech with the intention of granting him the power to see his vision through."

"You mean..."

"Unfortunately, the first thing he did with the power was murder a high-ranking government official who the girl befriended in the past," Elita sighed, "And... and it forced the girl to take a look at what she wrought. But by then it was too late. Everywhere the girl went, talents began to manifest even in bots that she never encountered. And this led to chaos, and that chaos gave the perfect opening for a new power to rise within the Commonwealth. One not predicated on lofty ideals... but on the simple need to lash out at every bot that saw them as lesser."

"...So. You mean to tell me that this individual gave Megatron his power without checking to make sure he wasn't a monster?" Orion got up from his seat.

"She... okay, dropping pretences," Elita replied, "I was an idiot. A stupid. Idealistic. Idiot."

"Okay. So, suppose I believe that now," Orion replied, "Where do we go from here?"

"I don't know," Elita replied, getting up herself, "I only sought you out to give you an idea of why I don't want to work with the Decepticons... and who you're working for."

"...Thank you," Orion replied, "Anway, the Archive will be closing to the public soon, so..."

"Oh, don't worry," Elita walked to the door, "I was on my way out, anyway."

"Good luck with your Autobots," Orion bid her farewell.

"And good luck to you," Elita replied in kind, "With what's on the horizon... you're going to need it."

"And what is on the horizon?" Orion asked.

"A choice you'll have to make," Elita replied, exiting the door.

Orion turned around as the door closed, seeing a bright red medal with a face-like insignia having been left behind... and Orion felt within him a pang of doubt.
---
Megatron could see the encroaching senate lapdog drawing closer to his location. He knew that if he didn't react quickly enough, this "Flak" would be a major problem. This was a now or never deal. He checked the windspeed, the direction... and everything was aligned perfectly.

As soon as Flak stepped within range, Megatron activated his Vaporization talent, zooming with the direction of the wind. Flak couldn't figure out the origins of the strange gas approaching him... not until Megatron reformed from the gas, arm outstreched and grabbing Flak's arm.

"Your power is mine!" Megatron shouted, his biolights glowing...

Flak watched on in confusion.

Megatron soon met his confusion when he noticed something. Nothing was coming out of Flak.

"I said your power is-" Megatron managed to stammer out before his face met a fist, which sent him staggering from the armored giant.

"Were you trying to copy my meta ability?" Flak asked.

"I... might've?" Megatron replied.

"News flash, afthole - everyone knows your power copying trick, but it's also useless on bots who don't have your freakshow bullshit," Flak grinned, "This armament isn't some special power or reality bending mod."

Megatron dodged another swing.

"This... is pure..." Flak growled between swings of his arms, "...unaltered... Cybertronian!"

"If that's the case, then why do you let those rich fools order you around? Where's your pride?!" Megatron growled.

"Pride's a weakness, one we copied from them squishies," Flak armed a cannon, "And I don't have time for that scrap!"

"Observation - Neither do we," A robotic voice alerted Flak. Turning, he saw Megatron's smaller blue ally, about to stomp.

In the nanoseconds Flak had to process this, Soundwave's foot slammed to the ground, the echos of his thundering footstep erupting and intensifying until they were a massive shockwave of sound.

Flak grasped at his audials, screaming in pain and probably rage.

"Observation - we should go," Soundwave announced to Megatron.

"Uh, yes," Megatron grumbled, having to adjust to the sound attack himself.

Soundwave and Megatron transformed, fleeing deeper into the cave. As they did, Flak adjusted something on their helmet, before they breathed a sigh of relief. He looked at the passage Soundwave and Megatron had fled into, before transforming into a Multiple-Missile Launcher Truck and driving after the two
---
Orion rolled through the street with the intent one would expect of his position. Carrying in him the datafile he copied, his mind was filled with concerns. Concerns that only came to him with the words of a jetformer.

As he came upon Sherma's Bridge, Orion transformed with the same caution as he did the first time he crossed it, the day he was assigned this damned mission. Caution that served him well.

For he saw Kiloton standing upon the bridge, shadowed by the night.

"So. You have it," Kiloton approached.

"Yes," Orion replied, blunt.

Kiloton held her hand out, expectedly. Orion briefly pondered the idea of turning and running, but the thought was turned off as soon as it came to be. Kiloton would've likely hunted him down if he tried. Thus, he handed the copied Shadow Index over to her.

Kiloton smiled as she took the drive gingerly in her hand.

"Excellent," Kiloton sighed, "Now, Orion. Return to your home and... await further orders."

Orion briefly felt a pang of rage in his gut. Of indignation. Who was she to give him orders like this? He wasn't a soldier, and he certainly wasn't her underling...

That's when it occurred to him. He wasn't sure what the Decepticons saw him as at this time. And he wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

So, instead, he gave a noncommittal nod and turned away, transforming and rolling out of the area. Such questions would have to be pondered upon…
---
Megatron and Soundwave entered yet another chamber, only to find they had run out of passages. The two transformed, staring at a stone wall.

“Dead end” Megatron said. “This is where we make our stand.”

“Correct” Soundwave stated.

The pair turned around to find Flak exiting the one passage into the room, returning to his robot mode. Soundwave immediately fired a sonic blast at Flak, only for him to simply walk through it, completely unaffected.

“SORRY?” Flak yelled. “CAN’T HEAR YOU! TURNED OFF MY AUDIO RECEPTORS!”

Megatron reached for his hip, going for a talent chip. No sooner did he have it in between his finger and thumb, Flak immediately blasted the chip out of his hand.

“NOT LETTING YOU USE WHATEVER THAT IS EITHER! JUST SURRENDER AND LET ME BLOW YOUR HEADS TO SMITHEREENS!”

“Not happening!” Megatron yelled, rushing Flak.

Megatron grappled onto Flak’s chest, only to be knocked away in a single swing. Megatron hit the ground with a thud, clutching something. Flak looked down to see several grenades formerly attached  to his hip had been removed. Megatron opened his hands, to reveal he had snagged several of them off.

“Catch!” Megatron yelled, activating one of the grenades and throwing it. “Or don’t! You can’t here me, either way.”

The grenade exploded in front of Flak’s chest, knocking the hulking bot backwards. However, as the grenade exploded, the room shook, dust and small chips of rock dropping from the ceiling. Soundwave observed this, and seeing Flak was no longer in their way, this gave him an idea,

“Megatron!” Soundwave said, making a run for the passage. “Back to the chamber we arrived in.”

“Why?” Megatron asked, preparing to throw another grenade.

“Conflict resolution: strategy forward.”

Now that Flak was out of the way, Soundwave rushed back through the passage. Megatron followed suit, activating and throwing another grenade at Flak to goad him into following them. Brushing off the explosion, an enraged Flak gave chase.

Re-emerging back under the shuttle, Soundwave led Megatron directly under the shuttle, Flak giving change. As Megatron prepared to throw another grenade, Flak angrily fired an energy bolt at Megatron’s chest, knocking him over. Loosing his grasp of the grenades, the explosive clattered around Megatron.

“NO MORE GAMES!” Flak yelled, enraged. “AND NO MORE USING MY GRENADES AGAINST ME! YOU BOTH DIE, RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW!”

As Flak walked towards them for the kill, Soundwave eyed the shuttle above him. He quickly scooped up one of the grenades around Megatron and activated this.

“Though you cannot hear me” Soundwave stated. “I do not tolerate your hunting of our kind. People who just wish to escape an oppressive system. And there is only one reward for those like you.”

Soundwave tossed the grenade upwards, its detonation rattling the shuttle above. Now loosened from the passage, the shuttle slid down and crash down atop Flak with a sickening crunch.

“Is… is it over?” Megatron asked as the shuttle wedged into the ground. “Is he dead?”

“Doubtful,” Soundwave stated. “Scan suggested he heavily relied on body mods and enhancers. He lives… but will likely remain trapped long enough for us to leave.”

“Then he’ll have to face justice another day,” Megatron sighed. “But for now, we should make our way to the surface and see if we can reach out for a pick-up.”

“Agreed,” Soundwave said, helping Megatron up. “Flak emerged from this passage. It should lead us back up if he made it down.”

“Then let’s not stay in this disgusting brute’s presence any longer.”

With that Megatron and Soundwave pressed through the passage, beginning the long trek up to daylight.
---
Orion sat on his slab, much like he did many nights before. But this night was different. For in his hand held not a tome of ancient lore nor a story of ages long past.

Instead, he held two symbols, which he fiercely considered.

One was the Anti-Deception Conversation flag. A triangular face resembling that of a bird of prey, two horns sticking upward into the sky, and eyes gazing forward, glaring in judgement of past sins. A face that said to all that considered people to be tools - "We are judging you."

The other was the insignia of the League of Autonomous Robots. A face that could also be considered a shield. Although it too looked forward, it now seemed like a friendlier face. One that could be... trusted? Believed to be here to help? When Orion looked upon the face, a single phrase came to describe that which he looked upon. A face that looks like "There's no need to fear... for I am here."

Orion didn't know how to feel about the fact that he thought the red face to be more inviting compared to the purple one.

He didn't know how to feel about anything right now.
---
Megatron and Soundwave stood on the desiccated surface of the moon, looking up to the sky, waiting for their lift.

“Onslaught states he has breached the moon’s atmosphere, and will arrive soon” Soundwave said.

“Good,” Megatron replied. “Soon we’ll be off this wretched dustball. Though I do confess, this scenario has given me a greater understanding of you.”

“I suppose,” Soundwave replied. “Understanding: basis of trust.”

“Then you know you have my trust,” Megatron said. “And I trust that you will be a staunch ally as we forge ahead.”

“Agreed.”

The pair looked at each other, before looking up at the sound of engines as, on the horizon, a purple ship approached, finally heralding their way of this planetoid, and back to their work…

---
Iacon Archive, Early Morning

Ariel entered the Archive early in the morning, as she had since the day she was assigned to guard it. It was part of the usual routine, one predicated on making sure the files were safe... alongside other things.

Unlocking the employee entrance, Ariel entered the archive with the same briskness she did every day... one which slowed upon realising that, though she normally was the second or even third bot here, no others were in the archive. This was not a common occurrence. And uncommon occurrences often left her on guard.

A state which served well, especially when she saw two others emerge from the aisles.

"Ah, guard! Thank goodness you came by," the first, a blue jetformer approached, smirked.

"Yeah. We were stuck here all night, just waiting for someone to come by..." The second, a purple motorcycle replied, clearly expectant.

"Well, you two are now free to leave," Ariel replied, "Now, please. Kindly exercise that freedom."

"Oh, please, Ariel," The motorcycle grinned, "We didn't come here to leave empty-handed."

Ariel heard a single creak of metal behind her, and quickly whipped around, blocking the swing of a weapon held by a new mech.

"Dammit, Mettlehead, you had to make so much noise!"

Ariel quickly swung, blocking another weapon, this one held by the jetformer.

The motorcycle jumped in to throw a fist, only for Ariel to swing a leg up connecting her foot to his face. Sparing not a moment to watch the motorcycle fall, Ariel bashed her shield into the mech that was identified as Mettlehead, knocking him flat onto his aft. Another swing of her spear saw the jetformer also fall, tripped up by a simple swing. They might've been effective against the likes of the security Autotroopers, but Ariel's superior training made it clear who the real victor would be.

Standing over the defeated mercenaries, Ariel scanned the area. She knew how to tackle this problem. Grabbing the nearest mech, she brought him up on his knees.

"So. Who sent you?" Ariel asked, "Give me an answer and you'll be let go."

"Why should I?"

"I'm giving you an out here."

"I mean, the answer is kinda obvious, innit?"

"Surprise me."

"...Alright, a hint. Your friend? That archivist you hang out with?" the merc grinned, "Turns out he's working with a VERY interesting bot. And that bot? He's not the biggest fan of your... associate."

Ariel smiled.

"Thank you."

"So, now I'll be on my w-" was all the merc could sputter out before a swing from Ariel's hand knocked him out.

Ariel looked back on her opponents and sighed. Clearly, there's a boiling point for the lies and deception. And Ariel knew it was reaching that point.

The time had come for Ariel to talk with Orion about his friends...

Chapter Text

Ariel walked through the Archive with the calmest emotion on her face. Today was the day. The day she would talk to Orion about… him. Or… so she thought.

"Hi, Ariel," he greeted her with a smile while walking past her the other way. This was a bit of a shock to Ariel. She couldn’t even respond in time before he disappeared around a corner.

What was he doing? Did he know? Did he forget everything?

Ariel raised an eyebrow at him and snapped out of it, following Orion down the hall to his desk.

“Orion…” Ariel spoke up as she entered, “Can I, uh, can I talk with you about something?”

“…Sure?” Orion replied, a little cautiously.

Shutting the door behind her, Ariel sighed. Now or never, Ariel. Now or never. “Orion…”

Ariel began, “Earlier today, while I was patrolling the archive… a bunch of mercenaries broke in.”

Orion’s jaw clenched. “Mercenaries?”

Ariel nodded.

“They were relatively unskilled and I managed to beat them back, but…” Ariel paused, “While interrogating him for answers about his employer, he mentioned one of the archivists.”

Orion struggled to keep himself composed.

“Now, I’m not going to say that there’s an issue going on with any of them, just that someone thought it would be a great idea to attack the archives due to one of us interacting with an individual who…” Ariel paused a bit to gather her thoughts, “…who may not be entirely okay with certain other persons.”

Orion stammered, “Well… maybe who sent them had a vendetta and…”

Ariel looked on.

“…Okay, I’m going to rattle off a couple names from bots I’ve talked to recently that… might be connected?” Orion shrugged, “Only for the sake of possible leads.”

Ariel nodded, “Sounds like a good idea.”

“Well, there’s this lady who walked into my office and started talking about odd conspiracies,” Orion started…

“Elita-1, right?”

Orion paused.

Ariel waited.

“Well, that didn’t last long,” Orion sighed.

“Thanks for the confirmation. I’m going to assume the name “Megatron” popped up in your conversation?” Ariel asked.

“Once or twice.”

“And had you heard that name before?”

“…Yes.”

“Where?”

Orion sighed, “Dion took me out to some kind of fighting ring thing down in Kaon. Somehow I ended up a figurehead manager for one of the fighters using that very name. And that guy ended up making some kind of clandestine revolution cell… thing. Before you say anything, I was swept up in the ideals of the thing, and frankly, I can no longer tell if this is an attempt to change the world… or just an outlet for violence.”

“Nobody’s blaming you, Orion,” Ariel replied, “Everyone tries to stay on the straight and narrow, but we all wobble from time to time. Part of being a sentient being is being allowed to make mistakes. Having the freedom to do so.”

“I don’t know if that makes me feel any better, though. I have a lot of stuff I need to work through. My guilt over all this is easy to handle during the day, but it feels like it can eat away at me at night too… It eats away at my spark, you know?”

“…I think we may be able to figure something out,” Ariel replied, “Something that gets Megatron off your back and prevents whatever violence he has planned.”

“Here’s hoping…”

“...In fact, I think I have an idea…”

—

The day came and went like usual for many Cybertronians, but at night the abandoned spaceport in Kaon that the Decepticons had been using on and off was abuzz with activity. Megatron had returned from his recent excursion, and apparently a recent assassination attempt had let him harden his resolve. But Orion didn’t really know about all this, approaching with all the nonchalance he could muster, before arriving at the entrance.

“I am Orion Pax, here to see Megatron.”

The sentry recognized him and quickly opened the door for him, but not before scanning him with a security scanner. “He wasn’t expecting you, sir, but I’m sure he can accommodate. Please come this way.”

The bot guided Orion through the facility following some specific lights and noise that led to an armory of sorts. There was a large door on one of the walls that made a satisfying clunk when it closed behind. There, he saw Megatron looking over a bunch of screens.

“Megatron,” Orion spoke up.

Megatron turned around, obviously confused.

“Orion?” Megatron answered, “I wasn’t expecting to see you around today.”

“Nor was I,” Orion replied, “But someone illegally entered my place of work and had to be fended off by the guards. Obviously parties we don’t have information on have chosen to act. Quite possibly the senate.”

Megatron seemed to ponder this. “Curious…”

“I am thinking the same thing. It may be that our sudden acceleration of efforts has led to possible reactions from parties outside the senate or the Decepticons. It may be best if we… ease off the throttle, just until we can get a better perspective and more coherent plans.”

“So you say, Orion,” Megatron grumbled, “ but it is you who always advocates the most drastic methods.”

“Megatron, I didn’t say anything about stopping our efforts. I just said we need to slow down for a little bit and get our bearings.”

In the past, Megatron and Orion might’ve agreed on that. But this time, Megatron just seemed… troubled. “Do you want to know where I’ve been these past couple of days?”

“I… guess I should?”

“On a remote planetoid with Soundwave, getting chased around by a guy who thinks dressing up as a weapons rack is a personality.”

Orion looked startled. “… Bad luck, I guess?”

“Bad luck,” Megatron agreed tonelessly, “But that has nothing on what I’ve heard you’ve been up to.”

“The business with the Anibots was a result of Lugnut’s impatience, and I have managed to get you access to the Shadow Index.”

“So you say,” Megatron replied, “But you could’ve gotten it to us sooner if it weren’t for the woman who walked into your office and took up so much of your sweet time…”

“…So you know about that?”

Megatron pointed up with a smirk, “Let’s just say the Senate’s not the only one with eyes in the sky.”

Orion glanced up to see a Avianoid sitting on a railing, waving at him.

“This guy was recruited a few months ago, signed up for the interrogator role but I found his abilities proved much better for a spy. His name is Laserbeak. And he’s how I’ve been aware of some of your doubts recently.”

“Megatron… this just seems like you’ve lost your ability to trust others.”

“Can you blame me?” Megatron sneered, “Someone I considered my closest ally abandoned me after I destroyed a guy who was trying to kill me, and HE was not going to respond to reason.”

“I’m sure we can work out something if you two just talked.”

“Tell HER that.”

“Megatron, you know I’m here for you...”

“Are you?” Megatron asked, “Or did someone else talk you into talking to me right now?”

Orion tried his damndest to stay cool…

“Actually, now that I mention it…” Megatron walked over to a nearby window. His colors changed into a maroon and gray ensemble, his systems emitting the word ‘transphasing.’ And Orion watched as he rammed his hand through the wall - phasing through it like a hologram - and pulled Ariel back out through.

Orion’s damndest wasn’t enough.

“…Look who I found snooping around, Orion,” Megatron growled, “Seems to me she’s been listening in for a while.”

Ariel, having just rapidly oscillated through states of being, couldn’t make a good move, only emitting a weak apology.

“Megatron, that's just a civilian and my co-worker!” Orion replied forcefully, “Let her go, she's not worth the effort!”

This time, Megatron seemed to be annoyed and perplexed. “You'd let someone get in the way of our brighter future just because of what? Friendship? A crush?”

Ariel managed to get re-coherent and spat in his general direction, “Hah! Brighter future? Seen the news?”

Megatron growled again, “What does she mean?”

“Your allies are making their own plans that are reflecting bad onto you, Megatron,” Orion replied, “They’ve been sending your acolytes out there, rioting in the streets and corroding the cities we set out to protect! And for what?”

Megatron sighed, dropping Ariel.

“The senate don’t listen to a civil argument,” Megatron replied, “We need a show of force to get them to understand. I thought I taught you that…”

Orion braced himself…

“GUESS I'LL HAVE TO BEAT IT IN!” Megatron roared, and then Orion felt his hand make contact with his face.

As Orion fell to the ground, Megatron turned to face the security guard. Ariel, however, had trained a lot in the time she had been in this world, and if there was one thing she had gained as a result of this training that Megatron couldn't counter... it was reaction time. Megatron found this out the minute she threw a nearby object he couldn't identify right into his face. As Megatron attempted to recover, Ariel ran right past him and to Orion.

"Orion, we're getting out of here!" Ariel shouted, lifting the mech with surprising strength and bolting for the door.

"Stop them!" They heard Megatron shout.

Ariel carried Orion through the corridor, as more and more Decepticons flung themselves to block them. But to no avail. As he and Orion passed through, the Decepticon behind him raised his gun and fired. Suddenly, a piece of metal debris lifted up and flew right in the path of the blast, ricocheting it away.

“Ariel, did you see that?!” Orion shouted.

“Right now, we should probably worry about our lives over something like that,” Ariel shouted.

A door slammed right before the two, Ariel skidding to a halt. Gritting her teeth, Ariel turned to see twelve more Decepticons charging right at them.

"Orion, how good are you in a fight?!" she asked, already in a fighting pose.

“Not that good, we both know this!” Orion shouted.

As the Decepticons closed in, Orion’s brain started to spark to a new understanding.

“I AM good at one thing that can help, though!” Orion exclaimed with a sense of initiative… before turning with a clenched fist and ripping through the door behind them.

Ariel stood in shocked surprise as he ripped the door right out of the frame and tossed it aside. Turning to her, he held out an open hand.

"No sense in dying here!"

“Damn right,” Ariel muttered under her breath.

The two of them ran out the unhinged door… and through a few more that had been left open… and soon were out of the spaceport.

“Woo!” Orion shouted, seemingly wired from all the running he had to do.

“Glad you’re getting some excitement from what is essentially the end of an abusive master-servant relationship,” Ariel chimed.

“Well, maybe master-servant may be the wrong word for it, but-” Orion couldn’t complete that sentence due to a plasmabolt flying right past his head.

“YOU BASTARD!” A Decepticon shouted, “did you really think escaping the spaceport made you safe?!”

“Actually, we probably shouldn’t have made that assumption,” Orion noted as he bolted.

“Easy for you to say!” Ariel shouted as she followed.

Neither of them could understand the cacophony that the Decepticons were shouting as they pursued, but it was pretty clear none of them really were into the idea of the two surviving the day.

---

Megatron sat at a nearby chair, seething with rage and... disappointment. Orion had strayed far from the path. Far enough to let a co-worker who had been confirmed to be operating with a different group, no less. Megatron couldn't help but wonder if he was mistaken for letting that nobody anywhere near him in the first place...

"Boss?" A nearby Decepticon spoke up, "You doin' okay?"

"...I can't help but feel that this is my mistake," Megatron growled, "Orion Pax has proven to be a very disloyal asset. If I never let our initial meeting become the first of many, I likely wouldn't have had to deal with his... nonsense, now."

"Eh, we can't exactly go back in time and stop that," the Decepticon shrugged, "But we can move forward."

"True..." Megatron sighed, then stood up and dusted himself off, "Find Soundwave and tell him to send out a message. Orion Pax is no longer our ally. But I do not want to make assumptions on his loyalty. As long as he stays out of the way, he shall be free to live as he sees fit."

"Got it. Orion Pax bailed on us. He leaves us alone, we leave him alone."

"And if he doesn't," Megatron added, "...I shall deal with him appropriately."

---

Through the streets of Kaon, Orion and Ariel kept running. The Decepticons had long disappeared, having apparently given up the chase, but every moment spent in Kaon is one with an increasing likelihood of a Neo-Kaoner Orderly getting uppity on an Iaconian walking their streets, or more likely being a casualty of a random intergang conflict. Understandably, neither was particularly interested in dying here.

“How long until we find a teleporter?” Ariel asked.

“Can’t be that long, now!” Orion replied, “Kaon may be a little lacking, but it’s not completely devoid.”

“Indeed, it’s not,” A new voice chimed in.

Skidding to a stop, Orion and Ariel saw a lanky new bot emerge from behind a nearby building corner. A smug look decorated the face of the mech, complemented by the plasma knife in his hands.

“To think that a couple of Iacon lovebirds could show up here in Kaon, right on my doorstep!” The mech smirked, “Folks like you could be worth a lot down here.”

“A mechscrapper,” Ariel hissed, “One of the few things that’s worse than an angry Decepticons.”

“Hey, now, love, let’s not get ourselves too deep into it,” the mech approached, his kibble betraying a flier of some variety, “Bots like me provide services that most can’t get down here due to criminal neglect of civilian infrastructure. And unfortunately, such services need materials.”

“Framing your butchery as noble,” Ariel spat, “How quaint.”

“Oh, if that’s how we’re gonna play it…” The mech snapped his fingers.

From the surrounding buildings, two hulking Leapers, clearly old handovers from the Combatron War, emerged, triple-digit servo-clamps at the ready.

“Get the two of them. I’ll need time to examine their parts for healthy removal,” the mech grinned.

Before either Leaper could really approach, however, torrents of flame erupted from the building above them. Turning to examine the source, all mecha were surprised to see a faint dark blue shape jump off the building. The flames danced in their fingertips, seeming to form an axe.

As the newcomer drove the massive violation of physics and combustion down into a leaper, the internal fluids ignited and exploded, blowing off chunks of the leaper as it fell. Ariel held out a hand, and the chunks were suspended in mid-air. With a swing of her hand, Ariel flew the chunks right into the other leaper, damaging it.

Both leapers down, and the three mecha turned to the lanky bot.

“...Fine. You’ve proven you’re worthy of life today,” the jetbot growled, retreating into the shadows.

“Fraggin vulture,” The newcomer grumbled. Turning, her flame axe illuminated her features - she was a bit shorter than Ariel, with a dark-blue armor broken up by brilliant gold and bright vermillion. And her face was kind, but clearly she had seen a lot in her time… which Orion suspected may’ve been a long one. “You guys alright?”

“Uh, yeah, I’d say so…” Orion said.

“Thanks for the assist,” Ariel thanked the newcomer.

“Not a problem,” the newcomer replied, turning around, “You two try not to run into any more trouble.”

“Wait,” Orion started before she could leave, “...Before you go, I think we should explain ourselves.”

The newcomer turned, a pondering look on her face.

“You see, I used to be part of an… organization that had plans to… change the world. But my… associate just accused me of turning against its ideals and had other members chase me out,” Orion noted, “And… I’m kinda at a crossroads. Do I go back and try to clear things up, or… just accept this change? I’m… honestly not sure.”

“With all the pauses you’ve been taking, I’d say you’re still trying to find the words for it,” the new face noted, “Thing is, not every decision you take on long term plays out in your favor. Sometimes the people you look up to turn out to have been blinded by their own foolish errors and you have to do what’s best for you instead of just the group.”

The girl turned again, “I’d just let that situation fall apart, because clearly if the guy was willing to throw you under the shuttle for something as petty as ideals, he’s not worth dealing with in any term.”

Orion considered this as the girl left. Ariel put her hand on his shoulder.

“You doin’ okay?”

“It’s… been a long night. I think it’d probably be best if I just went home now,” Orion shrugged.

“I feel the same,” Ariel replied.

And so the two set out for the nearest teleporter…

—

The lights of Iacon lit up like the stars in the sky they drowned out, as Elita-1 gazed over the shining city. She saw people walking on the streets and alleyways, as they had their own lives to live there in their busy world. Those bots unaware of the machinations lying underneath would almost call this beautiful.

A voice spoke behind Elita, and she turned, addressing the young bot who spoke. “How are things, young one?” she asked.

“I was… just sent up to inform you that Orion and Megatron finally fell out,” the bot replied.

Elita-1 was taken aback. “They did? When? I wasn't aware of a fight.”

“Which is why I’m informing you now?” the bot replied, a bit confused but seemingly taking things in stride, “I can’t help but feel like this is more shocking to you than it should be.”

“…Forgive me,” Elita replied, “I was expecting him to stick by his side for at least another week, but… well, things change a lot around here.”

“I guess it’s what we do as a species, ma’am,” the bot replied, “It’s why some call us Transformers.”

Elita chuckled, “That it is. Call the monitoring team. Let them know to keep an eye on Orion, make sure the Decepticons don’t get any ideas.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As the bot departed, Elita looked over the city.

“You lost a very important piece of your board, Megatron,” Elita noted, “The one that keeps your campaign grounded. I wonder, what is it you plan on doing next?”

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 15

There were very few moments when the Senate was never busy. When talking about taxation issues from Vaporex or criminal activities in Kaon, not very many of the Senators were willing to stay quiet. Even during a quiet evening at Proudstar Square.

"Rest assured, the people of Vaporex will get the resources needed," said Senator Golbax after he finished his conversation with Vaporex's delegation. "That said, I am not in a position to say how much financial aid we can provide at this time."

"What about the other citizens outside of Vaporex?" asked Senator Cross, "We're seeing bots turn empty en mass and this is not a good sign.

"I'm sorry for not being more specific," said Golbax. "But these governors are already preparing for a new system even if it takes years to create it."

"What new system?"

"A system where we no longer need the guidance of a Convoy," Golbax clarified, "Where the Senate, and by extension the people who elected us to this position, maintain control of Cybertron without the distraction of having to please a central figure."

"But isn't it risky?" Senator Tantalus chimed in, "What Kaon declares itself independent again? We already have problems with the Rijk."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," said Golbax, "Though personally, even if Ephemeris were to call Kaon independent, the matters that affect us will almost certainly affect him. Chances are, he'll just crawl right back to us."

"So you say," Cross sighed.

"And what if the Matrix shows up again?" Tantalus inquired.

"You feel the need to worry about someone showing up with a bauble and throwing off organizational plans?" Golbax noted, "Please. If it could be so easily stolen from Sentinel, it likely lost whatever actual power it had long before."

"Or maybe it merely chose to be lost," Tantalus noted.

"The Matrix has never shown any sign of intellect aside from choosing someone compatible," Golbax sighed.

"But even compatibility hasn't been a guarantee," Tantalus noted, "Arbiter Convoy certainly didn't have much in the way of harmonizing with it."

"ZETA PRIME" Golbax paused to emphasize the actual legally recognized designation of the interim leader before Infinitus became Guard Convoy, "...was always an understudy. We didn't pick him for his compatibility with the Matrix, we picked him because he seemed authoritative enough for people to follow him, and too self-assured to remember which of his grand ideas were actually his to start."

"A puppet king," Cross sighed, "And look how well THAT went."

"Look, we weren't the guys who ended up picking the idiot," Golbax shrugged, his optics gliding over to the Functionist Representative who had shown up at the square not half an hour ago, and had since spent that time staring into the crowd with seemingly no real attempt at interaction.

“Creepy,” Cross noted, “Does anyone even know if the Functionists know how to have fun?”

“I don’t think they can comprehend it,” Golbax replied, “I’m like 90% sure they’re utilitarian to the extreme.”

“I’m sure,” Cross agreed, “I think we should tell them what fun is and show them how to have it. We might be able to make some friends out of it and maybe get some intel on the Functionists as well.”

"Sounds like it could backfire," Tantalus replied, "We should keep our distance."

"Ah, you worry about distance," Golbax sniped back, "I'm gonna put on the charm."

And from there, Golbax approached, snatching a drink from a nearby server. He briefly considered his position to the Functionist, eventually standing next to them.

"So," Golbax drew out the first word a bit, "You enjoying the party so far?"

"Such events could be misconstrued as frivolous by many," The Functionist replied in a deadpan monotone, "And it could be considered a waste of resources that could be distributed elsewhere."

"So I've heard. But sometimes a party could also be a good socialization opportunity," Golbax replied, "Get to know your fellow senators, voice concerns that may not be appropriate for a formal setting, vent about how your constituents can be opinionated without knowing the whole situation... Arguably, debates in the senate chambers could be considered a bigger waste of time and energy than this is."

"I cannot agree on the first point," The functionist replied, "However, I do recognize that much time is spent arguing in the chambers that delay actions that could be necessary."

"And who judges what is necessary?" Golbax noted, "You? Me? Some rando on the street screaming about how we have failed our ancestors and cosigned our civilization's death warrant?"

"Necessity is not assigned by a person," The functionist replied, "It is assigned by situation."

"Well..." Golbax pondered a bit to figure out a way to circle back to his original point, "...Maybe by that logic, parties like this are necessary for group cohesion."

"Incorrect," The functionist replied, "Better results can be obtained through reprogramming and adherence to the needs of survival. All should recognize they are parts in the great machine of society and it is up to them to keep it running."

"If you're so hyperfocused on societal efficiency, why don't you just do both your functionist council and the party's vibe a favor," Golbax snapped, "and go debate your necessity at home?"

The functionist, who had been mostly unmoving except for its head, lurched over Golbax, startling quite a few bystanders, positioning itself over the Senator and reflecting the mech's shocked expression in their single cyclopean optic.

"I'm not the one wasting resources by throwing these events while telling people their lives don't matter, Senator," it said. "You're the one."

The functionist's head jerked back down and their body started to shudder, as if they was preparing to move again. Golbax took a step away from them and raised both hands in a placating gesture.

"No harm done, please," he said. "What do you want?"

"...Nothing that you can provide," The functionist turned and walked out of the room, the click of their mechanisms echoing as the functionist disappeared into the night.

"...That didn't go well," Golbax replied.

Tantalus walked up, "Sounds like I was right about the possibility of a backfire."

"Indeed," Golbax replied, "Apparently the guy thought this was a waste of time and resources... and also the entire senate, apparently."

"So what's to happen next?" Cross asked.

"I don't know," Golbax sighed, "But if the system we're going to implement is going to work, we may have to reconsider the Senate Functionist Partnership."

---

"So, what's gonna happen next?"

"I don't know," Ariel replied, "But Orion... try to keep calm here. I know, we just went through everything that went down in Kaon, but consider this a friendly meeting."

"I'll try," Orion replied.

After reaching the teleporter station in Kaon, Orion and Ariel arrived back in Iacon, where Ariel had taken him back to a relatively unused warehouse. Emphasis on the relatively, as it became clear that the Autonomous Robots Equality League had set up shop here.

"So, this him?" Orion heard a guard mutter to another.

"That's him," He heard a reply, "Megatron's former lapdog, finally figured out how his teeth work."

"Good for him," The first guard replied, "Heard he was a history nut with super strength, and we could use the spare muscle."

"Sir," Orion turned to the guard, "With all due respect, I don't think I'll be willing to spare my metapower for your cause. Not yet, at least."

"You tell yourself that," The guard replied, "Then we'll get in a fight with the Cons or the Funcs or the Sens... we'll see."

"...The what, what, and what now?" Orion asked, just confused.

"Decepticons, Functionists, Senate Goons," The other guard explained, "We gave them shorter nicknames, makes it easier to communicate."

"Not really," Orion replied, "I'm pretty sure there's a group out there calling themselves the 'Predacons,' and if you call everyone with a suffix con the same thing, it'll just get confusing."

"...We call them Preds," the first guard replied.

"And if there's another group, maybe a Combatron Revivalist group, calling themselves the Assaulticons or something? What're you gonna call them?"

The first guard pondered a bit, and then grinned, "Asses."

"...Okay, yeah, of course I walk into that," Orion groaned.

"Okay, fellas, that's enough," A new voice chimed in, catching everyone's attention as Elita-1 entered the room, "Good to see you again, Orion."

"Elita," Orion replied, "Been a while."

"Yes, and I'm gonna have to apologize," Elita sighed, "Sometimes the need to make allegiance a choice can cause some... disconnect and communication trouble."

"Let's get this down to brass taks," Orion replied sternly, "The first time we talked, you ominously mentioned Megatron was not to be trusted, and after that, I was hunted down by a war criminal with murderous intent, my friend had to fend off three mercenaries, and a giant spaceship dragonoid pointed out that there was no way in hell the Automous Roboleague - Autno - Autonomous..."

"We mostly just use Autobots here!" one of the guards chimed.

"Right - that there was no way in hell the Autobots were willing to join with the Decepticons against a common enemy," Orion completed his sentence, "And apologies for mangling your full team name, I have had a long day."

"So it would seem," Elita replied.

"Yeah, and it would make me feel so much better if you explained what the hell is going on," Orion replied, "With Megatron, with you... with everything."

"Would it really?" Elita asked, "Chances are it'll just make things worst if I go and drop the truth on you at a whim."

"Indulge me," Orion demanded.

"...Very well," Elita replied.

"You see..." Elita began, "The Autobots were perhaps one of many attempts I've made to make a difference in this world. And unfortunately... the Decepticons stem from an earlier attempt."

"What?" Orion gasped.

"Megatron was a pupil of mine, in a time before the current situation," Elita elaborated, "I had high hopes for him, and wished that he would lead the Cybertronian Commonwealth to a bright future. But I failed to recognize how living in this world had shaped him. He was born of the mines, and railed against his fate. The writings he made that drove me to seek him out were not philosophical questioning of the way things were, they were extremely well-worded raging against the machine."

"You were swept up in that?"

"Many were," Elita replied, "And at first, I thought it was because he made points about how the world was broken, and if I could offer guidance and power, he could steer the boat in the right direction. Too late, I came to realize his solution to the boat being steered wrong was to destroy the people who had control of the boat and then rip it apart in rage. He would never had changed society. He would only have destroyed it."

"If that's the case," Orion started approaching, "Why did you choose him, Elita? I can tell from the look on your face..." he paused to find the right words, "...that you knew he did something like this before."

The guards looked tense, and Elita looked... downfallen. Orion briefly considered when Elita and Megatron could have met.

"...Was it on Messatine?" Orion asked.

Elita could not give an affirmative answer.

"Kaon's under his tread heel, several cities have already started to consider the logistics of fighting an open war," Orion stammered, "I'm pretty sure Iacon's southern districts are burning right now! There are insurgencies happening right now, and he's at the head of them! Was this the bold new future you wanted?!"

Elita shook her head in the negative.

"...I ask again," Orion replied, "Why him?"

"I saw the same potential to change Cybertron for the better in him that I did in you," Elita replied, taking Orion by surprise, "To take this world to a new Golden Age..."

"...And you didn't stop to think that this might happen?" Orion asked, "That he might go too far?"

"He failed, Orion," Elita clarified one last time, "He lost his way... but you have not."

Orion was stunned by his declaration. Did he ever have a way to begin with?

"You... can still change the world for the better," Elita elaborated, "You... Ariel... maybe even Dion... bots like you can inspire others to look beyond their humble beginnings and their simple functions, and to find in themselves a new way to live in the world."

Orion couldn't find the words to reply to this.

"And... there is something I must give you... if you so choose to lead this new world," Elita replied.

"Elita, you don't mean..." one of the guards asked.

Elita, without a word, opened up her subspace contained, and pulled out something Orion never thought he'd see in his lifetime. A golden-armored orb, the central chamber aglow with the azure energy of ancient wisdom, two handles at the side. This was the lost orb of the Primes. The Matrix of Light.

"I cannot force this onto you, Orion," Elita clarified, "But so far, only you and Ariel proved to be worthy candidates. When the choice is made... I hope it'll be the right one."

"...Nope," Orion finally replied, catching everyone off guard.

"Pardon?" Ariel finally spoke up, "She's been hyping this up for a time, and you just go-"

"Nope," Orion stepped back, away from Elita, away from the Matrix, "Nope. Nope. Nope."

"I think he's... having a conniption?" One of the guards noted as he continued stepping back, right out of the building.

"Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope." Orion transformed into his vehicle mode and drove away.

"...I'll... give him a few days to consider the choice," Elita replied.

"...He just went 'Nope', walked out of the building and drove away, how is that not making the choice not to take it?" one of the guards asked.

"Yeah, I don't feel comfortable with just taking it because he denied it so flatly," Ariel noted, "I say you should hang onto it a little longer."

"Perhaps that's the best choice for now," Elita replied.

—

The sun rose once more, and Ariel returned to her post in the Grand Archive. But something was missing.

No. Someone was missing.

Orion was nowhere to be found. Ariel approached a fellow guard to inquire about his location, and the guard merely shrugged. This was confusing to Ariel, so she tapped into her comlink.

“Orion? You there?”

“Yeah, Ariel, I’m here.”

“Okay, so. You need a few days to lie low, or…”

“I… don’t think I’ll be coming in today.”

“I mean, take the break you need, but-”

“Oh, I won’t call this a break. I just… have a lot on my shoulders right now.”

“Yeah, situation’s getting heavy in the world today.”

“Yes, that is true. I mean, who would want such a burden?”

“Nobody’s saying you’re the only candidate. In fact, I argued against even considering you. Because, frankly, I wouldn’t want that on my worst enemy.”

“…Thank you for… looking out for me, I guess.”

“So, you’re still staying out today?”

“Yes.”

“That’s fine. If you need anything, call me.”Ariel hung up and returned to her post in the archive, ignoring her co-worker as she gave her the side-eye.

—-

Orion walked the streets of Lower Iacon, his head abuzz with concerns. Every alleyway he crossed, a Decepticon could lunge out at him. Every corner he rounded, a functionary could yell at him for neglecting his alt. And every step he took, an Autobot could pop out of nowhere and declare him a failure… or worthy. Honestly, it wasn’t clear which was scarier to Orion. The Decepticons were probably the bigger concern. At least the functionaries wanted you to see them coming. The Decepticons were like a pack of ironwolves, circling around unseen in the crowd, waiting for a chance, and taking it before their prey could counter.

But the thing about paranoia is that, sometimes, it works a man dizzy. Eventually, he had to stop walking, rolling, or even moving. He just had to sit down, on a nearby step. As he watched the crowd walk by, he soon found this step’s other side had been occupied by a roughed-up looking bot.

“So,” his fellow sitter started, “what brings you to this here step?”

“…Call it a need to isolate from the masses,” Orion replied, “You?”

“Someone else’s need for me to be isolated,” The rough bot replied, “Lost my T-Cog in a factory explosion, functionists didn’t want me to get it replaced. Now it’s either I stay out of the way and drink myself to death, or… well, they take care of the last part for me. I guess.”

Orion pondered how to process this at the moment.

“Are you sure they will?” Orion asked.“Friend of mine tried to argue against the idea. They ripped him apart on the spot as an example,” The rough bot replied, “The fact that I managed to get away before they decided to go for me is kinda Primus’s blessing. I guess.”

The old bot went silent again.

“Where do you live?” Orion asked.

“Calling it living is a bit of a stretch. I just keep moving from place to place, with the occasional stop at a new place if I happen to run into one of those things.” The rough bot said, “It kinda feels like my life is a string of luck and bad decisions. Can't say I didn't see it coming though. My arm has been damaged for too long for me to use it in a fight."

“…What would you do if you could fight?” Orion asked.

“I would fight, duh.”

“That seems like an obvious answer. But there are those that are fighting the functionists, the senate, and all that…” Orion replied, “…But nobody can really agree who’s in the right.”

“What’re you talkin’ about, kid?”

“…I think I need a bit of help,” Orion replied, “Consider this a logic puzzle.”

“…Alright. I don’t have that much alcohol anyway, and a little thinkin’ might do me good.”

“… Let’s say there are three groups here. One group, let’s call them the Controllers, have set up a system where everyone has a place and a purpose,” Orion began.

“I think we both know they’d call themselves that if they could,” the rough bot replied.

“A second group, let’s call them the Liberators, fight against the cruelty of the Controllers and protects the masses,” Orion continued.

“Sounds like a bunch of good men.”

“In many respects, they are. But some are concerned that their methods won’t go far enough.”

“If you say so.”

“And finally, the third group shall be named…” Orion paused to come up with a name that didn’t sound evil, but none came to him, so he shrugged, “Anarchyists. They fight the cruelty of the Controllers as well, but lack any restraint. They fight the system without regard for the consequences.”

The rough bot pondered this.

“In your mind, which of these groups would be more likely to win…” Orion asked, “and more over, would their victory prove beneficial to the masses?”

“…I’m a simple bot, kid,” the rough bot replied, “Before the system that we know was really set up, I worked as an engineer in the Primal Vanguard. I never really fought the Combatronians myself, but I saw what they could do.”

“In this situation, one could argue-”

“Kid, let me finish,” the rough bot replied, “When the fighting started, we thought the Combatronians to be monsters first and foremost. They blew up the Proudstar and our Convoy. But as we moved from planet to planet, the Combatronians proved to be a complicated enemy, not just to fight, but to understand.”

This gave Orion pause.

“In the end, we came to understand that just as we were fighting to right the wrong of the Proudstar’s destruction,” The rough bot continued, “Most of the Combatronians were righting to right a similar wrong - they saw their colonies fall apart around them as resources were… thrown all over the place for other colonies that didn’t seem all that deserving. By the war’s end, the good men and gods had gotten sick of the fighting. Some continued on because they saw no alternative. But others continued because they saw that there were still monsters out there.”

“Monsters like Overlord,” Orion nodded.

“And monsters like Ginrai,” the rough bot replied, “But that didn’t mean they still didn’t fight.”

“…I do not understand your point, sir,” Orion replied.

“My point, kid,” The rough bot finished, “…Is that, in this situation, there are villains and heroes on both the anarchist and liberator’s side. Indeed, the Functi… no, the Controllers, wouldn’t bother making a distinction. And frankly, they may have the right idea on that front.”

“…So what would someone trying to be a good man do in this situation?” Orion asked.

“You don’t try to be a good man, buddy,” the rough bot replied, “When it comes to morals… you do the right thing… or you don’t.”

Orion pondered about this.

“…You know what? You make a fantastic point,” Orion noted.

“That right?”

“Why should I let myself get caught up in symbols and who’s right?” Orion stood up, “As far as the world cares… I’ll just be someone doing good in the world. Because someone has to.”

“Good luck with it, kid,” The rough bot shrugged.

“Thank you,” Orion smiled, “As for your… situation… I think it only best if I give you something to keep you going.”

“I doubt the Functionists will-” the rough bot was stopped when Orion handed him a card.

“This man will provide you with the replacement parts needed,” Orion explained, “Best of luck.”

“Uh, thanks, man,” The rough bot took the card.

And with that, Orion departed, his former doubts now replaced with a new resolve…

Chapter Text

Most of the time, the Senate would be a calm place. Some might even call it lethargic, content to plot and scheme but not really to act that much. But today was... different somehow. The senate chambers were alert with activity and it seemed like every senator was getting ready for what was to come.

Obviously, Senator Codexa had not gotten whatever memo was causing this ruckus. Her optics darted this way and that in confusion, trying to get context but none would spare a moment to inform her. At least, not without prompting.

Codexa laid her hands on one of the various attendants who helped maintain the seats and such, and spoke to him in a calm tone, "Excuse me. Do you have any idea what's going on right now?"

The attendant nodded, "They're preparing an address to the people regarding that... Despecticon business. Something about strengthening security and stuff. I don't really pay attention to a whole lot of it."

"Surprised you don't, because this kind of stuff shapes Cybertron's future," Codexa noted.

"Eh, assuming we got one anyway," He shrugs and returns to his duties.

"A security improvement movement wouldn't cause this much buzz even in the face of..." Codexa trailed off when she saw a teleprompter being installed and tested. A few words were sighted.

DECEPTICON.

CLAMPDOWN.

MARTIAL LAW.

BADGELESS.

"Truly remarkable how far this senate's been pushed."

Codexa turned to see Senator Trannis standing behind her. The purple senator had always been a bit low-key in his effects on policy.

"Yes. And I cannot help but wonder if we're going to go too far," Codexa noted.

"Oh, I'm sure plenty would say we should have done this a year ago. Or maybe when the Matrix was stolen," Trannis noted, "But the fact is, the Senate has decided to go forward with their plan to remove the Decepticons as an obstacle, and we'll just have to roll with it."

"Have we truly lost faith in the people to protest?" Codexa asked.

"The people? Please. As far as the senators here are concerned, people only stand here and in the halls of the rich and powerful. The rest of the lot are mindless drones who can misinterpret programming. Shame how far we've fallen," Trannis sighed.

"So, what happens now?"

"We take our seat, they give their speech, and then we watch freedom die," Trannis replied coldly, "Or at least, most of us do."

"What do you mean?"

"I, personally, will not be personally attending. I have some business with some old friends I'd like to get out of the way while this is starting up," Trannis replied again, "Lord knows it'll be a while before I get another chance."

As Trannis departed, Codexa couldn't help but feel a tinge of fear. But why? Was it the Senate smothering freedom to solve a substantial issue... or was it something in Trannis's words?

—

Some hours later, Trannis arrived at the Scar, accompanied by his guards. As he approached the colossal gouge in Cybertron’s surface, a colossal Orthoros Carrier rose from the gap, before extending a ramp for Trannis to board.

Soon, Trannis found himself an audience. Ahead of him stood Megatron, with Kiloton and Soundwave on either side. Around the room were Megatron’s “Sectmasters”, now commanding portions of the Decepticons. Onslaught, Psykill, Stonecrusher, Sky Shadow, Scorponok, Cryotek, Switchblade, Straxus. Trannis questioned if he was even dealing with a resistance any more, and not a private militia. And out of the corner of his optic, skulking at the back, the hologram of the scientist Shockwave.

“What news do you bring?” Kiloton asked.

“The senate, the rumours, they are true” Trannis answered. “They plan to invoke martial law. To clamp down on the public till the Decepticons are hunted to extinction.”

There was murmuring amongst the Decepticons. Megatron simply grinned.

“Then they fear us” Megatron grinned. “They fear that we can tear this system down. They fear… our power.”

“It seems they have a new militia of elite law enforcement,” Trannis continued. “They’re calling them the badgeless.”

“Then we shall give them war!”” Straxus exclaimed, drawing forth several shouts of agreement,

“No” Megatron stated. “We will not give them the satisfaction of war. We shall not give them the chance.”

Trannis raised an optic ridge as Megatron stepped forward.

“DECEPTICONS!” Megatron yelled. “WE HAVE PLANNED AND PREPARED FOR SO LONG NOW! WE HAVE BUILT OURSELVES TO STAND TALL AGAINST THESE CORRUPT DICTATORS! BUT NO MORE PLANNING! NO MORE WAITING!”

“IF WE DO NOT ACT NOW, IN THIS MOMENT, THEN WE BETRAY ALL THAT WE HAVE WORKED FOR! NO MORE WILL THE SENATE TREAT US LIKE DISEASED LUPINOIDS! ON THIS DAY, THE SENATE SHALL FALL! ON THIS DAY, WE SHALL TAKE CYBERTRON BACK!”

Megatron’s colors shifted as he mimicked a Heavy Weapons Mode talent. On his arm, an oversized weapon formed on his arm, a powerful fusion cannon.

“DECEPTICONS! RALLY YOUR FORCES! READY YOUR WEAPONS! TONIGHT, WE RISE UP!”

A cheer came from the sectmasters, before they filed out of the room to prepare. Megatron too started to leave. He stopped as he passed Trannis.

“Thank you for your service” Megatron smirked, before leaving.

Tranis watched Megatron leave as Kiloton passed as well, while Soundwave and Shockwave simply observed. Trannis considered what he had just brought to pass.

—

Ariel hurried up the stairs of the apartment complex. Orion hadn’t been in work for days, he hadn’t left a memo. She rushed round a corner and through the corridor to find Orion’s door open. Could he have been taken? Ariel clutched her spear tightly and pushed it slowly.

“He hasn’t been here for days” came the familiar voice of Dion. “Figured you’d come sooner or later, didn’t want the lock broken.”

“I could’ve skewered you,” Ariel replied.

“Unlikely” Dion sighed. “Guessing he hasn’t shown up to work?”

“No… Do you think Megatron could’ve got him?”

“I don’t know. The way he’s been recently, I don’t know what’s going through his head.”

“I’ve been trying to figure that out myself” came Orion’s voice.

Dion and Ariel looked shocked as Orion stood in the doorway. Ariel almost moved to hug him, but stopped herself.

“Orion…” Dion asked. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know what I am… but I know what I have to be.”

“What are you saying?” Ariel asked.

“We need to find Elita-1, fast” Orion stated, more emboldened than he had ever been in his life.

—-

In a hidden base within the walls of the Scar, the Decepticons began preparing themselves. Onslaught and Straxus brief their units on their plan. Decepticons rifled through boxes of contraband for weapons, tools and augments, while the Stormforge successes, Rapidfire, Zooka, Whetstone and Gatling generated and handed out more weaponry.

“READY YOURSELVES!” Lugnut yelled, rallying the Decepticons as they prepared.

In one of the hangars, Soundwave briefed a small team of Decepticons, consisting of Exhaust, Duststorm, Stockade, Redwing, Cloudcover, Bombshock and Schism, Megatron watched from behind, before taking note of Scorponok leading his bodyguards Cudgel and Clout towards them. His two guards were both carrying a pair of crates.

“Soundwave, got your special cargo” Scorponok said as his grunts dropped the crates with a heavy clattering. “Enough for your team. Each of them should adapt to your frames.”

“Good” Soundwave simply replied. “Equip yourselves.”

As his team began opening up the crates, Soundwave observed Megatron also walking towards the crates.

“Are you sure you wish to do this?” Soundwave questioned. “You will be frontrunning.”

“This doesn’t work unless I am at the head” Megatron assured. “I will show that I am not like the senate by standing at the front with my fellow Decepticons. I am done hiding in the shadows.”

---

The Chromecoat, Tycho Harborlands

“I fear the senate are preparing to turn Cybertron into a dictatorship” Codexa stated. “I was only able to get glimpses, but I can only envision the worst.”

“It is worse than I feared” Elita replied. “And if this how far the senate are going to go… then I cannot fathom the retaliation it will draw from the Decepticons. We edge closer and closer to war.”

“Then we must make our stand” came the voice of Thunderclash.

The hulking truckformer entered the room alongside Ignitor, Sky Lynx, Psychopoint, Big Bang, Stealth Saber and Ironhide.

“Good people will fight” Ignitor added. “We just need to show them that they don’t have to be afraid.”

Elita smiled, before turning sadly towards a capsule in the room.

“Without someone to light that way, without someone truly worthy of the burden of leadership, I fear we will get nowhere.”

“I’ve something I need to know” came a voice, shouting down the corridor.

The Autobots turned in shock as Orion Pax entered the room, flanked by Dion and Ariel. Sky Lynx couldn’t help but give a grin when he noticed the Autobot badge he had handed to Orion Pax some time ago now welded to his shoulder. Orion was surprised when he saw Codexa.

“Mistress Codexa?” Orion asked.

“Hello Orion” Codexa smiled. “It has been some time, my former student.”

“Orion” Elita warmly smiled. “Have you changed your mind?”

“Perhaps” Orion said, his attention caught by the capsule, knowing what was in it. “But I need to know something. Something important.”

“Anything”

“Why do you fight?”

Elita looked confused. Indeed, the other Autobots were all surprised by the question.

“I thought I explained it quite succinctly,” Sky Lynx said.

“Sorry, you misunderstand,” Orion explained. “I don’t mean what the Autobots fight for. I mean what do you, as individuals, fight for. Why did you join this cause?”

There was silence for a moment, before Ignitor spoke up.

“I fight to make the world safe for my wife and daughter” Ignitor stated. “I want my little girl to be able to grow up in a world free of fear.”

“I fight for the brothers and sisters I’ve lost to war” Ironhide stated. “I fight to make sure that their sacrifices mean something, and if Cybertron descends into another war, then what was the point?”

“I fight for my home” Psychopoint answered. “To stop Tarren’s Gate from being just another planet stripped for resources to fuel the senate’s greed.”

“I fight so that my sons will get a chance at a future instead of being shipped off to the first military camp and forced into battle against their will” stated Big Bang.

“I fight for honour of the Legacy of Sabers” Stealth Saber said. “A legacy of right. A legacy of helping to save people.”

“I fight for my hometown” Sky Lynx answered. “To… to stop them being forgotten under the foot of Cybertron. So that one day it may prosper.”

“I fight… because it is right” Thunderclash stated. “Because it is honourable. Because when people are in trouble, I cannot look the other way. Never.”

“I fight because I failed,” Codexa said. “I couldn’t help make the senate a force for good.”

“I fight because my eyes have been opened,” Dion said, stepping forward. “Because once I lived a life of day to day work, and now I know what innocent people are facing, I can’t go back.”

“I fight…” Ariel started. “I fight because I care for my friend. Because I would die for him. And if this is the fight he chooses, then so do I.”

Everyone turned to Elita. She paused. This has been a long fight for her, longer than even the Autobots had existed.

“I fight… because I have made mistakes,” Elita began. “Mistakes that have led me on this path. Mistakes that have led many of you on this path. And I need to make them right. To do right by you all. By Cybertron and its colonies.”

“We all fight for our own reasons,” Orion stated. “Well all have our own individual lives that brought us here. So do the people of the Commonwealth. We will not be like the senate and simply categorize as castes. But if we follow the Decepticons, we forget that we are more than simply a side. We lose ourselves in the need to win. To defeat the Senate.”

“We are all people. We are all a culmination of our lives. Of our hopes, of our dreams, of our mistakes, of our accomplishments. And we are all entitled to freedom. The freedom to look at ourselves and decide who we are, who we want to be, what we want to do.”

“We decided to fight for that freedom. We decided to unite in a cause so that everyone else might have that decision. We decided to be heroes. And at the end of the day, what do heroes do? We save people.”

Orion approached the capsule.

“This decision I made… it’s not a decision to lead. It’s not a decision to ascend. It’s a decision to save whoever I can. However I can. Because in all my qualms, in all my fears, in all my doubts, I think I’ve learnt one thing about myself. This fight, though I may have been thrust into it… I cannot walk away.”

“ELITA!” came a booming voice.

A red Dinobot rushed in, almost knocking down Dion and Ariel, before skidding to a stop and panting.

“What is it, Grimlock?” Elita asked.

“The senate, they’re going live!”

Grimlock rushed to a console, and activates a screen, bringing up footage from the Senate Chambers in Iacon.

---

“PEOPLE OF CYBERTRON!” Senator Tomaandi announced. “WE HEAR YOU!”

Tomaandi stood at the centre of chambers, addressing both his senate colleagues and several camera drones broadcasting to the entire commonwealth.

“WE KNOW YOU COWER IN FEAR! THESE DECEPTICON TERRORISTS THREATEN YOUR SAFETY! BUT FEAR NO LONGER! FROM TODAY, WE WILL BE TAKING MEASURES TO PROTECT YOU NOT JUST FROM THEM, BUT ALL THEIR BADGED ILK!”

There were murmurs amongst the assembled senate. Most were simply curious, while others, like Senator Cross were simply disgusted, knowing what comes next.

“EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY, WE WILL BE ENFORCING A CURFEW IN ORDER TO ENSURE THAT YOU ARE SAFE WHILE WE OPERATE! WHILE IT MAY SEEM STRICT, IT IS FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY! FOR I AM AFRAID THAT WHILE THESE DECEPTICONS RUN RAMPANT, WE MUST REINTRODUCE MARTIAL LAW.”

“ANYBODY CAUGHT BEYOND SUNSET WILL BE TAKEN IN AND QUESTIONED BY LAW ENFORCEMENT! ANYONE ASSOCIATING WITH THE DECEPTICONS OR ANY AFFILIATED BADGED GROUPS WILL FACE THE MAXIMUM PUNISHMENT, AS WILL THOSE CAUGHT HARBOURING THEM!”

“BUT DO NOT FEAR, THIS WILL BE ONLY UNTIL THESE TERROR CELLS ARE ROUTED! AND TO AID IN THIS, WE INTRODUCE YOU TO YOUR NEW HEROES!”

Tomaandi turned as a group of bots in identical armour stomped in, before forming up behind the senator as one stood besides him. Hulking and well armed, they all wore full face visors to hide their identity.

“THE MOST WELL TRAINED AND ELITE LAW ENFORCEMENT CYBERTRON HAS KNOWN, OUR BADGELESS WILL STRIVE TO KEEP YOU SAFE! THEY WILL STOP AT NOTHING TO RID CYBERTRON OF ALL THREATS!”

“Yes” stated the badgeless besides Tomaandi. “We will.”

“Hey, you’re not supposed to talk” Tomaandi angrily whispered. “Just stand still and look good for me.”

“No. We will not stand by anymore.”

The badgeless turned to Tomaandi, who backed up in fear. But instead of reaching for one of his blasters, the badgeless pointed his arm at Tomaandi, and upon it formed a hulking fusion cannon. With a devastating bang, the badgeless fired an immense blast of energy straight through Tomaandi’s chest. Tomaandi collapsed to the floor, the colour fading from his body, smoking billowing from the gaping hole in his chest.

“SENATORS!” the badgeless yelled. “YOU HAVE BEEN WELL AND TRULY DECEIVED!”

The badgeless pulled off his helmet, revealing himself to be none other than Megatron. As the armour came away, his comrades  similarly removed their armour, revealing themselves as Soundwave’s team of Decepticons.

“CUT THE FEEDS!” Senator Decimus yelled, standing up from his seat.

“Drone control achieved” Soundwave coldly stated. “Cybertron is watching.”

“Bombshock” Megatron ordered. “Take Redwing and Duststorm and secure the teleport room. Bring our forces in. Stockade, tell Kiloton to secure Iacon. We will not be interrupted.”

As Bombshock, Redwing and Duststorm left the room Exhaust, Cloudcover, Stockade and Cloudcover moved around the central stage, covering the assembled senate with their stolen Badgeless Weapons.

---

Outside, Wilco, an Autotrooper captain with plane white armor, turned around to look at the senate building.

“WE’VE GOT REPORT OF DECEPTICON TERRORISTS IN THE BUILDING!” Wilco barked at his security force. “MOVE IN AND-“

Wilco didn’t even make it to the door, before he was cut down by Kiloton’s judgement pickle. Flanked by Lugnut and Onslaught, she stared down the Autotroopers and security officers.

“Choose your next move wisely” Kiloton firmly stated.

Several of the officers immediately fired, prompting charge in and knock them flying with his fists as Onslaught returned fire.

“DECEPTICONS, SECURE THIS BLOCK!” Onslaught shouted.

“NO MERCY!!!” Lugnut roared.

Security forces were shocked as Decepticons swarmed the street of Iacon. Some teleported in, others leapt from their hiding places on nearby rooftops and alleyways, some even coming from sewer hatches. Dropships began delivering more security forces to quell the Decepticons. Soon, Central Iacon became a battlefield, with no concern for the innocent residents hiding in their homes.

—-

The senate shivered as they heard gunfire outside. Megatron calmly turned to look at the nearest camera drone.

“PEOPLE OF CYBERTRON! THE SENATE BUILDING NOW BELONGS TO THE DECEPTICONS! LOOK AT YOUR LEADERS QUIVERING, WITHOUT THEIR WEALTH TO HIDE BEHIND!”

“YOU THINK WE FEAR YOU?!” Decimus yelled. “YOU ARE NOTHING MORE THAN TERRORISTS! RABID DOGS THAT SHOULD BE PUT DOWN! TO END YOU IS A KINDNESS, YOU SHOULD BE THANKING US FOR ENDING YOUR MISERY!”

“Well, thank you for acknowledging our misery,” Megatron snarled, pointing his fusion cannon at Decimus.

With a deafening boom, Megatron blasted Decimus with his cannon, Decimus’ greying frame slumping back into his seat.

“LET THIS BE A LESSON, CYBERTRON! THE SENATE ARE NOTHING BUT A CABAL OF BLOATED SWINES OPERATING ON BORROWED TIME! THIS WILL BE THE FATE IF ALL OF THEM, AND ALL THOSE THAT FOLLOW THEM.”

Megatron grabbed the nearest camera drone, pulling it to focus on him.

“But I am not without mercy. People of Cybertron, I offer you the chance to join us. To join the Decepticon dream, as we take Cybertron to a new age. A Cybertron where Porcieacons in standard armor, like Tomaandi and Decimus, will never step on us again. We shall ensure it.”

A demented grin spread across Megatron’s face, the power getting to him.

“And if you stand against us. If you think for even a moment that you can undo our hard work… I invite you to try and stop us."

—-

“Megatron…” Orion muttered in shock.

“He has… fallen further than I could have thought” Elita sadly said. “They… I… he has been broken beyond repair.”

Orion took a deep breath, before pressing on the capsule. The capsule quickly opened, revealing the Matrix of Light.

“I cannot believe that…” Orion simply stated. “With time, perhaps one day we can make him see that. But right now Cybertron needs to be saved.”

Orion picked up the Matrix of Light, holding both handles in his hands. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but it seemed like the golden case became a bit brighter as he held it.

“And Megatron needs to be saved from himself.”

Holding the matrix, Orion approached Ariel and Dion.

“Dionysus… Ariel…” Orion began. “Whatever happens next… whoever I become, I want to say… Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for being my friends.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world, bud” Dion smiled, patting his friend on the side of the arm as a tear welled in one of his optic.

“No matter what happens, Orion, we’ll be here for you” Ariel said with a reassuring smile.

Orion gave a kind smile, before he began pulling on the handles of the matrix.

“Matrix of Light… LIGHT OUR DARKEST HOUR!!!”

The two halves of the matrix began to pull away, exposing its glowing heart. Light filled the room, not just from the matrix, but from Orion himself, as a wind began blowing through the room. Dion and Ariel shielded themselves as the other Autobots watched in awe.

As Orion hovered above the floor, his edges, seams began to glow with white light. His chest opened as a strange hole formed in it. His body changed shape, growing, becoming more angular, more detailed and plated.

As the light subsided, the bot that had once been Orion dropped to the ground. The matrix revealed itself in its casing, before flying into the hole in the bot’s chest, closing the chest windows behind it. He was a tall, red-and-blue armoured warrior seeming to dwarf Orion’s frame, a golden angular shape embedded between his chest windows, like a star peering through the darkness, matching a golden pair of horns emerging from the brow of this machine.

“Orion?” Ariel asked, cautiously approaching.

“It’s okay…”

The Convoy immediately embraced Ariel and Dion, wrapping his arms around them to reassure them.

“I am here.”

“How do you feel?” Elita asked as the other Autobots stood in awe of the new Convoy.

“Like…” The Convoy stated, flexing his fingers. “Like there is work to be done.”

The Convoy took a step back, addressing the assembled bots.

“Autobots. Tomorrow, we face a momentous task. We change Cybertron. We pull it out of its self-destructive cycle and liberate it from its corrupt system. But tonight, we face an equally momentous task. Tonight, we must define what it means to be a hero. We must define the world we want to make. Will you stand with me?”

All those assembled nodded. All of them. Elita. Thunderclash. Ignitor. Psychopoint. Stealth Saber. Grimlock. Sky Lynx. Big Bang. Ironhide. Codexa.

Ariel.

Dion.

The first Autobots. The first heroes.

“Thank, you… my friends. Megatron must be stopped. So tonight. In the name of freedom. We take the battle to him. To the Decepticons. To the senate.”

The Convoy turned around, before dramatically outstretching his arm.

“AUTOBOTS… TRANSFORM AND ROLL OUT!”

Chapter Text

The city of Iacon would normally a hive of activity, its streets teeming with Transformers of all shapes and sizes. However, as the holoscreens flickered with news of the latest Decepticon victories, a sense of dread hung heavy in the air, heavy enough to render every bot at a pause.

Some didn't need to look at a holoscreen, as in the city's main street, when a massive mechanized platform, suspended preposterously on a pair of beastial digigrate legs, wandered ponderously down the road. Sheets of paper, emblossed with the Decepticon Insignia, flew from it, with some bots catching and examining these sheets. Those that tried to approach soon found themselves in the presence of a small platoon of Decepticon warriors.

"Alright, fellas!" A voice spoke out from the main rider of the machine, a mech some familiar with illicit broadcasts recognized as Stonecrusher, tossed another wave of pamphlets off the side, "I know, it's a bit of a weird transition period we're going through, so rest assured, we're trying to make your liberation go as smooth as possible for you men of the street! Feel free to peel those insignias off those sheets and stick them on you if you're cool with the changes!"

A great many bots were a bit confused by this. Some even indulged Stonecrusher's request and put the sticker on. And Stonecrusher would swear, one guy just rolled his pamphlet up, lit the end on fire and put the other one in his mouth.

"Don't worry, dudes!" Stonecrusher shouted, "It's a new age, one undefined by the legacy of the Firstforged, but you won't have to worry about a big transition! Shout out to the miners! Or should I say FORMER miners!"

A deafening explosion rocked the street in front of Stonecrusher's walker, sending a wave of shock through the crowd. Stonecrusher's eyes scanned the street in front of him.

"This doesn't look like a grenade..." His eyes narrowed as he saw a figure, faint in the smoke, "Alright, who dares oppose the new world order?!" he roared, his voice echoing through the streets.

From the wreckage, a towering figure emerged. Red and blue armor gleaming in the sunlight, accented by streaks of gold and silver, with the most prominent a four-pointed starburst shape in the middle of two chest windows.

"Just a citybot," The newcomer replied, his voice steady. "Reforged by the ancients to become the hero of a new age!"

"Hey, we've already got a new age," Stonecrusher scoffed said, his tone dripping with contempt. "So do us a favor and step out of the way..."

"What happens if I don't?"

With a roar of "YOU FRAGGIN DIIIIIIIE", Stonecrusher activated his massive mechanized walker, its weapons systems humming to life. Missiles arced through the air, their fiery trails illuminating the sky. As the missiles closed in on his opponent, the so-called citybot braced himself for the inevitable impact, winding back a punch.

"Are you seriously thinking of punching a missile?" Stonecrusher grinned cheekily.

The newcomer answered with a single action - punching forward, hitting a missile right at a good enough angle to knock it off course, and causing it to explode one of its brothers. He then grabbed the last of them and spiralled around, throwing it right at Stonecrusher's walker.

"OH SHIT!" Stonecrusher shouted as the missile made impact, exploding the machine and sending the Decepticon General flying through the street.

"How'd you like THAT move?" The missile-throwing mad lad grinned, "I guess you can call that a... special technique."

Stonecrusher impacted the road at that time, bouncing a bit... only to pop right back up, a bleeding scratch under one of his optics accentuating the rage building inside of them.

"You think you're some kind of super star Convoy wannabe, afthole?!" Stonecrusher shouted.

"Super Star Convoy Wannabe, huh?" the mech smirked.

Stonecrusher growled, "That's all you are."

"Nah..." The mech smiled as his chest opened up, revealing a gold-encrusted artifact with a blue glow in the middle, "I'd say I'm the real deal."

Stonecrusher's eyes widened, as well as those of every single bot on that street. Murmurs began rising from the crowd members that had not dispersed from the action. Was this for real? Could it really be the Matrix?

Before anyone else could act, a white shuttlecraft flew past the Matrix-bearer, arms emerging to grab Stonecrusher.

"See you, losers!" The shuttle shouted as she and Stonecrusher headed up into the sky.

A white roadhauler emerged from behind the smoke that the matrix bearer was standing before, stopping right near him.

"Pax, we got to go. Now that one of the Decepticon leaders has gotten away, it'll only be a matter of time before Megatron gets wind of us," Thunderclash declared as Pax climbed on.

"Oh, trust me, I'm well aware. We came here to stop Megatron, and that's what we're going to do," Pax declared as they started rolling for the capital, "Oh, speaking of which... I'm thinking of calling myself 'Star Convoy' now."

"Normally, the high council would have to be consulted for possible names," Thunderclash noted.

"In emergency situations like this, it may be more useful to ask for forgiveness instead of permission!" The now-christened Star Convoy smirked, "Now, how about we hit Megatron where it counts."
---
Stonecrusher and Star Siren soared through the skies of Iacon, her powerful engines roaring.

"What the frag was that?!" Siren shouted, "moreover, WHO was that?!"

"I don't know!" Stonecrusher shouted, "But we got to warn Megatron. If this guy is carrying the real Matrix, it's not a good sign for us that he went against our idea of the new world!"

"We're coming up on the citadel. Want to tell him yourself?"

"No time to second-guess!" Stonecrusher shouted again.

Siren dropped him to the ground, and the Decepticon rolled with the impact before running right up the stairs.
---
Megatron paced the room, his eyes glaring at every one of the senators as they sat on their knees, awaiting the inevitable end. Multiple Decepticon troops of varying types stood, blasters trained on one senator or another.

"Every single day of every single miner's life, every single courier's life, everyone's lives, all ruined by your greed and self-interest," Megatron spoke quietly and calmly, but failing to filter out the sheer contempt in his voice, tinted with rage barely hidden under the surface. "So now you're facing their collective wrath through me."

A senator scoffed. "Bullshit! This is just you having an immature temper tantrum!"

Megatron's eyes narrowed.

"Like you're any better," he replied.

Just then, Stonecrusher burst into the room, his breathing heavy. Megatron's head snapped to his direction.

"MEGATRON! TROUBLE!" he gasped.

Megatron turned to face him. "What is it?"

Stonecrusher stopped, panting. "There" He panted again, "new guy" he gasped, "blew my carrier the frag up" he wheezed.

Megatron raised an eyebrow. "Stonecrusher! Catch your breath before you talk!"

Stonecrusher nodded, struggling to regain his composure. "No time! He's on" He gagged a bit, "his way here! That jackass is coming for you!"

Megatron's expression hardened. "And I'll destroy him just the same..."

Stonecrusher's eyes widened. "HE HAS THE MATRIX!"

A silence settled across the room. The senators exchanged surprised glances. Even the Decepticons who once had their guns trained on the senators, found themselves relaxing in shock.

Megatron's voice was barely a whisper. "What. Did you just say?"

"This guy! He somehow has the Matrix!" Stonecrusher managed to sputter out, "I don't know if it's the real deal or if this guy made a near-accurate copy but-"

"It's the real deal..." Megatron growled, "Elita stole the Matrix from Sentinel. She has to have had it. But if the holder is a male..."

His optics squinted, as if an equation was connected that he didn't like the result of.

"...We cannot let him reach the citadel."

He turned to the Decepticons, eyes ablaze.

"Anyone who values the destruction of the system!" he shouted, "You are to remain here and keep your weapons trained on the senators! If any of them move, destroy them immediately!"

Some Decepticons nodded.

"ALL OTHER DECEPTICONS!" He roared, "TODAY, WE KILL A CONVOY!"

Many cheered... but Megatron could tell some were reluctant with their cheering, like they knew it'd be hard.

Nevertheless, he turned and exited the chamber, his fusion cannon charging.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 18

Thunderclash raced towards the Grand Imperium in his alt mode, Star Convoy perched atop his frame. Alongside him, Dion and Ariel charged forward in their alt modes.

"Woohoo! Can't WAIT to see Megatron see this!" Dion exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement.

"It's not going to go well for him, that's for sure," Ariel added, her tone more somber.

Star Convoy gazed towards the distant horizon. "I suppose this day was always doomed to pass," he quietly murmured.

"What was that?" Dion asked, puzzled.

"Nothing! Just... getting my nerves in check," Star Convoy replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Suddenly, a massive explosion rocked the ground, sending Thunderclash soaring into the air.

"Frag! Thunderclash!" Star Convoy cried out.

"I'm fine, just go!" Thunderclash shouted back, his voice barely audible over the roar of the explosion.

Without hesitation, Star Convoy leaped off Thunderclash's frame, hurtling towards the Grand Imperium.

"You wanted a fight so badly, Megatron?!" he declared, his voice echoing through the city.

Megatron stood before the Grand Imperium, his fusion cannon smoking. He had been waiting for this moment, the moment when he would finally seize control of the galaxy. But now, the figure that rocketed towards him was merely a blur.

A red and blue blur accented by a pair of burning cyan optics and a flash of white that looked a lot like teeth landing right in front of him, resolving into a bulky cybertronian covered in golden accents.

"Unfortunately for you," The machine replied, "I am here!"

Megatron's optics narrowed.

"You should have changed your colors alongside the frame," Megatron spat, almost quiet enough that most wouldn't even hear him, but it was clear to those close enough.

"Sadly, that's kind of out of my hands now," The figure stood up.

"So what should I call you?" Megatron raised his voice slightly.

"The name is Star Convoy," was the reply, "And I'm here to stop you before you make an irredeemable error on your part, Megatron."

"Irredeemable error?" Megatron chucked, "I'd say it was an error only when you betrayed me and everything we stand for!"

"The divide was of your own creation, Megatron," Star Convoy declared, "It has simply grown so vast that I have no choice but to acknowledge it."

"Then I'll have to close that divide," Megatron replied, "After I tear down every idiot IN MY WAY!"

On cue, panels on his back opened and revealed a second cannon, which tilted down to aim right at Star Convoy. A flash of red ripped right out of it and hit Star Convoy’s chest, pushing him back a few meters.

Megatron snarled. While plasma smoke was emitting from his opponent, he could tell that no significant damage had been sustained.

“Megatron, it… doesn’t have to be like this,” Star Convoy spoke out, “You’re pushing it too far. Was this really how you expected the world to change?!”

“I expected to see Cybertron embrace the future with open arms, watching my fellow mecha march these money-grubbing wastes of space into the mines and collapsing them in behind them so they too know what it’s like to suffer and die in darkness,” Megatron snapped back, “And my plan never anticipated anyone recovering the Matrix. Much. Less. You.”

“...I understand,” Star Convoy stood up, “But if this is the way you think it should go, then let’s see this through.”

With that, the lights on his shoulders lit up before extruding four missiles. They impacted before Megatron could register them, pushing him back. Megatron transformed midair into his tank mode, his massive form rumbling as he hit the ground tank tread first. The top turret swiveled, aiming his powerful fusion cannon at the approaching warrior.

A blast of energy erupted from the cannon, tearing through the air. Star Convoy's eyes narrowed, and with a quick step, he dodged the attack with incredible agility, charging towards Megatron. His hands grabbed onto the fusion cannon, the momentum swinging the hero up, putting him on top of Megatron. Roaring, Star Convoy pulled, disconnecting the fusion cannon from Megatron's turret.

Transforming, Megatron didn't have time to react before the butt-end of his cannon was lodged into his side with a mighty swing. But with a smirk, Megatron let instinct take over. His colors changed from shades of black and grey to a collage of blue and white.

"Technological Integration," Megatron's voice spoke in an unsettling monotone.

Suddenly, the cannon ripped itself out of Star Convoy's grasp, seemingly aiming from Megatron's side. Star Convoy attempted to block it, but before he could, Megatron fired, the blast striking Star Convoy and sending him crashing into a nearby wall.

Megatron approached Star Convoy, his eyes burning with a fiery intensity… and a sense of pity.

"Orion, I'm disappointed in you," he growled. "We could have built the future together. But you chose to oppose me. You chose this."

Megatron raised his weapon, aiming it directly at Star Convoy.

"I'm destroying you today, and that bauble in your chest will be dust under my foot," he declared.

Star Convoy, though battered and bruised, stood tall.

"Like you can build anything," he retorted. "All you do is tear things down."

Without warning, Megatron fired, with a powerful energy blast hurtling towards Star Convoy. The matrix-bearer, with a swift movement, dodged the attack, charging again.

As Star Convoy drew closer, Megatron's colors changed to a dull gray and dim gold.

"Shock Absorption," he muttered.

Star Convoy unleashed a powerful punch, striking Megatron directly in the chest. His eyes darted to see ripples of force echo through Megatron's frame, but Megatron himself remained unfazed.

"Yeah, after you left, I went and got a talent that allows me to absorb even your mightiest blows, Orion Pax," Megatron taunted. "You don't have anything you can do with all your strength this time..."

Star Convoy, undeterred, slammed another punch into Megatron.

"So you can absorb all of 'ORION'S' best punches, huh?" he growled.

Star Convoy slammed another hit into Megatron, and then another, and then another.

"You're only making a fool of yourself!" Megatron roared, "My Shock Absorption can tank anything you can dish out!"

"Yeah, Shock Absorption can..." Star Convoy shouted between punches, "But there's a slight problem with your plan."

"Oh, what? Lack of ability to accept defeat?" Megatron shouted back, "Lack of mercy for those that threw me into a pit to dig until my gears stripped? LACK OF COMPASSION FOR OTHERS?!"

"Well, that," Star Convoy's faceplate retracted, revealing a very smug grin, "But you had the smug self-assuredness to explain your power right now as Shock Absorption!"

"What does that have to do with-" Megatron managed to utter out before one more mighty blow hit him in the chest... and for some reason, this one actually FELT like he got hit.

"THAT MEANS THERE'S A LIMIT TO WHAT YOU CAN TAKE, RIGHT?!" Star Convoy shouted.

Megatron's eyes widened and he pushed himself backwards, away from Star Convoy. But Star Convoy followed and kept punching. and despite his best efforts, Megatron could feel every single blow.

Then, Star Convoy geared up one more, but the vibe on this one felt... different.

"Super Strength Special Technique," Star Convoy grinned, "GINRAI..."

With a single mighty blow to what we humans would call the solar plexus, Megatron was taken off his feet.

"SMAAAAAAAASH!" Convoy finished his sentence.

Swinging his fist upward, Star Convoy watched as Megatron was sent flying into the air.

The eyes of every Decepticon there widened, as if the very image of their victory was shattered. Megatron slammed into a nearby statue of Guard Convoy, sliding down it as it fell backwards.

As Megatron hit the ground again, Star Convoy approached him.

“What are you… waiting for, Convoy?” Megatron growled, “Finish me off. Let my death be the end of the dream.”

Star Convoy stood over Megatron, his glowing eyes dimming with pity.

“You preached the idea of changing the world without chaos,” Star Convoy sighed, “And then you went and destroyed your way to the top. You’ve betrayed your ideas and the people you sought to benefit.”

Megatron snarled.

“And you betrayed your friends along the way,” Star Convoy spoke with a lower tone, “But you thought you were doing the right thing, so I’ll give you the chance to turn things around-”

“REQUEST DENIED!” Megatron fired his back cannon at Star Convoy, forcing him back.

Star Convoy felt a sharp burning and staggered, the force of the blast reverberating through his frame. Shaking his head, he looked up to see Megatron running, his frame shifting and changing into a new design.

“Decepticons, the mission is a failure!” Megatron shouted, “But this isn’t over, CONVOY!”

“Megatron, wait!” Star Convoy shouted.

Before he or anyone else could stop Megatron, Megatron transformed, his hefty tank-kibble frame giving way to a sleek combat jet mode, and blasted away, the air scorching as he jetted off. Some of the jet Decepticons, shell-shock plastered across their faces, transformed and followed him. More ground-bound Decepticons dropped their guns and ran in a disorganized rout.

Autobots and what remained of the Grand Imperium's security forces scrambled to intercept their escape, the Decepticons dodging and weaving. The sound of heavy footfalls echoing over each other gave way to the squeal of tires and the rumbling of treads, and dust was kicked up, leaving no room for visual confirmation.

When the dust cleared, Star Convoy looked over the rampaged remains of the Grand Imperium, his eyes scanning. He could see Dion standing triumphantly over a Tanker Decepticon while Ariel stood on top of a car-bot. He noticed several guards managed to wrangle down a hulking brute. But it seemed like there were so many that escaped. Civilians emerged from what hiding places they had found. Some members of security personnel stood in silence. Rubble lied where it was strewn.

And all eyes were on him.

"People of Cybertron, I..." Star Convoy began speaking, but trailed off. He looked around to see some senators emerging from the building.

Star Convoy stood in silence.

He cleared his throat.

"People of Cybertron..." Star Convoy began again, turning to every bot he could see, "I am Star Convoy. Current bearer of the Matrix of Light, chosen through... methods that even I do not know the mechanisms of."

Some bots began murmuring.

"By the ancient traditions of Cybertron," Star Convoy recapped, "I should stand before the senate and formally accept my position as leader of Cybertron. That is how things used to be."

Tensing a bit, Star Convoy turned to the senators that were watching. Some of them look flabbergasted, but others looked... curious.

"...But that is not how they have to be," Star Convoy conceded, "I'm no leader. I'm merely a servant for the people. People who should have the right to make their own decisions on who to follow."

Although the murmuring continued, it quieted down.

"Freedom is the right of all sentient beings," Star Convoy explained, "As a bot who has lived among the common folk, I know better than to try and control the destiny of Cybertron with an iron fist."

Star Convoy turned to look out at Iacon, watching as pillars of smoke billowed from the once proud city

"Protecting the people..." Star Convoy declared, "...Is why I am here."

The murmuring turned to light cheering, a hesitant ripple of approval that quickly grew into a thunderous wave of support. The light cheering intensified, spreading through the crowd like wildfire. Soon, the sounds of the ravaged city surrounding him were drowned out by a hundred – nay, more than a thousand – voices, all chanting the same three syllables.

"STAR! CON! VOY! STAR! CON! VOY! STAR! CON! VOY! STAR! CON! VOY!"

Star Convoy retracted his battle mask to reveal as calm a smile as he could muster... but it came out a bit of a goofy grin.

"STAR! CON! VOY! STAR! CON! VOY! STAR! CON! VOY! STAR! CON! VOY!"

“And for any bot out there who still wants to make a mark on the world, if you choose to impose your idea of the future onto the people of Cybertron, regardless of whether or not they agree with your vision…” Star Convoy spoke forward, a camera drone lining up to his face, “If you still chose to force it, you’ll have to beat me… no. You have to beat us. The guardians of autonomy for robots everywhere. I am here. WE are here. We… are waiting.”

As civilian cheered, Autobot raised their fist, and senator apprehensively joined in, Star Convoy heard the tink of an old staff. Turning, he saw the once-proud Infinitus taking a place by his side.

"Fine words, young one," Infinitus nodded, "But it takes a lot more then speeches to change the world."

"I understand, Infinitus," Star Convoy declared, "And I will need assistance from someone who's been where I stand."

Infinitus smiled, "So, Star Convoy, was it? How do you intend to fix the damage that the Decepticons caused?"

"How many of our Senators are still standing?" Star Convoy asked.

"Surprisingly a lot. Seems that when Megatron was losing, many of the Decepticons he assigned to deal with them lost their nerve."

Star Convoy smiled, "Good. But I have a feeling they'd rather get some of their duties taken off the table, give them a bit of time for their own affairs."

"...What?"

"I'm thinking of transitioning the governing power of the Cybertronian Commonwealth to a body that represents all worlds, not just Cybertron," Star Convoy declared, "A Council of Worlds, if you will."

"I'm sure the Primal Vanguard will be helpful with-" Infinitus attempted to assure Star Convoy.

"In addition, I think we should scale back on planetary offense. Develop a kind of unit that specializes in the defense of the commonwealth," Star Convoy added.

"Right, always going to need some defense against future attacks like this."

"Also, we might have to consider sanctions on corporations," Star Convoy followed up, "If abusing workers can lead to them bringing a society to their knees, I'd rather we keep wages fair."

"...Alright..."

"And we should have some kind of overseer division," Star Convoy finished up with, "Y'know, make sure government officials' own agendas don’t interfere with their public duties. Accountability is key to preventing corruption and ensuring that the government serves the people, not the other way around.”

Infinitus sighed, "Well, you're the one with the Matrix. But keep in mind, things like this take time. The gears of progress are slow to move."

“Oh, I understand it will be long and arduous. But that won’t mean we’ll allow it to fall by the wayside," Star Convoy smiled, this time a little... disconcertingly, "will it, Sentinel Prime?”

“I, well, live to serve, do I not?” Sentinel Prime answered.

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