Chapter Text
A Vehicon was a mere drone: multitudinous, expendable, convenient. It was no tragedy when hundreds of them were felled in one altercation, or crushed in an otherwise unfortunate mine collapse, fuel and mouths to feed both lost as one. All in a good day’s work for the Decepticons. A Vehicon’s sole purpose was to their Lord and Master, any Vehicon swayed by the death of thousands who look—are—just like them is a fool. (Even though the thoughtless bludgeoning, the gutting… well, the flickering sparks and darkening visors would make anyone falter. It could’ve been any of them in their place. It can be any of them tomorrow. The next hour.) There is nothing else of note to talk about. Certainly not from a lowly drone.
But now… now, there was a lot of talking onboard the Nemesis. Some of the more (ironically) mindful crew might call it gossip, and would shut up accordingly when their Lord’s presence was felt. (Though when wasn’t it felt? His repute radiates from him like rays from a dying star, reinforced by the slithering reaches of the ever-silent Soundwave. Best not to risk it altogether; most of the Vehicons didn’t care to make any embarrassing examples of themselves like the surprisingly sturdy Starscream. Better to just die quietly and with little note.)
At least, that was the case for most topics. This could hardly be considered mere gossip, as far as Vehicons such as S-73 were concerned.
Half of the root to every Cybertronian’s predicament, here. On the Nemesis. Enemy number one to the Decepticon cause. To the more critical eye, perhaps the beginning of the final stages of their Lord’s madness. Optimus Prime. S-73 stilled as that crackling twin presence first filled the cavernous room, felt rather than saw the other Vehicons nearby stiffen as he waltzed through the doors. Tension in every frame and halted ventilation system taut enough to spark and cut. And the Prime had the audacity to look confused about it. S-73 did not dare let his thoughts run away from him, lest he opens fire and be taken offline for acting out of place. Something was clearly wrong (different) with this entire situation.
Lord Megatron put on airs uncharacteristic for him within the Nemesis (who was he performing for on his own ship?), treating and regarding the out-of-sorts Prime with an unsettling warmth. (Ah.) Orion Pax, that’s what they were to call him now.
S-73 frankly does not care what history the two share. How could Lord Megatron bring their biggest enemy—a relic of an archaic system—aboard? Amnesiac or not, a Prime was a Prime. The effects of Dark Energon must have been devastating even for their Lord’s processor.
S-73 slammed his cube against the table. It was the usual fare: Energon diluted one-to-a-million, nothing to 'write home about' as the Earth’s denizens like to say. No, S-73 looked forward to these refuel breaks for the rare gaps of (relative) safety in the crew lounge, where he blended in with the crowds of other unremarkable Vehicons.
“First up on the Prime-sitting duty, huh S-73?” V-86 nudged him and tittered over their own cube.
“I don’t even know why we have to keep watch on him. He’s clearly pacified—through whatever unscrupulous means…” S-73 muttered before taking another swig of weak Energon. Primus, he can’t remember the last time he could really get intoxicated. Perhaps he could ask Breakdown for a sneaky sip of concentrated Energon again.
V-86 brought him back with only a hum in response. “Might wanna take it easy on whatever scraping you’ve been doing on the Earthlings’ databases. Starting to sound like you’re thinking for yourself, oh the horror.”
“That’s not funny, V-86. Aren’t you tired? Days off hardly make up for what we’re expected to do every other day. I mean, this isn’t the worst task I’ve ever had but it’s… it’s the principle of it, you know?”
“Principles are cheap, S-73. Morals and virtue like that never kept drones like us safe,” V-86 sighed. “Watch yourself S-73, seriously. Else you’ll be next on the unofficial roster of disappearances. Would hate to forget you in that sea of other bots.”
Unceremonious as ever after that delightful thought, V-86 swiftly finished off their Energon and patted S-73 on their way out, leaving him unsatisfied yet again with the conversation.
:: I’ll comm you later, V-86. You’re not getting away from this conversation that easily. ::
:: oh i dont recommend that. leaving to fend off the rest of the autobots later. cant have distracted flying and fighting now can we ::
:: Oh come on, V-86. I’ll give you every detail of my first shift with the Prime, how’s that? ::
A pause in communications, V-86 possibly considering S-73’s offer.
:: Pleeeease, V-86? I’m bound to find something juicy - higher command types do love to spill their internals to a disposable. ::
:: ok, u got me. its funny u called urself that for my sake tho. how very sweet of u ;) ::
:: I will not be making it a habit. Fly safe. ::
S-73 said nothing about the conflict that his friend would be flying towards. Well wishes for that were just empty words, even to S-73. V-86 was clever anyway, S-73 had no doubt in their ability to escape death with another harrowing tale about the Autobots.
Now he had to make good on his offer and actually take up his post. V-86 would never forgive him if he died and missed the chance to get some insider details on the tension between Lord Megatron and Optimus Prime. This was entirely for V-86 and their ravenous curiosity’s sake; S-73 absolutely did not care about this. S-73 is not granted his life to care about trivialities such as this. He simply has too much work to do.
Bracing himself and resisting the urge to charge a blaster (just in case), S-73 allows the door to open. He’s a little glad he kept that blaster to himself, because what he sees past the doors would’ve made him feel silly for taking that precaution otherwise.
S-73 has to admit that the Prime didn’t look too imposing from this angle. Facing away from the door, diligently working on some intriguing cerebral work scrolling fast on a display. Not shooting any supposedly nameless drones. Deceptively dexterous fingers instead flying on a typesetting interface. S-73 never got to be much of a builder, assigned more menial tasks on average, but perhaps there’s something to the idea of divinity behind a Prime’s engineering. Optimus Prime was, to put it simply and begrudgingly, stunning. Inexplicably so, in frame and field. S-73 could see how so many might be drawn to and follow a Prime.
S-73 might have been entertaining the thoughts of the hopeful but discontented drones too much lately, he has no idea where else these thoughts could be coming from. Could this be the typical effect Optimus Prime has on others beholding him for the first time? The Prime in question has turned to the source of the noise, and his unexpectedly wide eyes further catch the Vehicon off guard. As if that wasn’t enough, he smiles softly at S-73. All traces of that feared warframe (except physical, of course) have seemingly dissipated to nothing, leaving behind… someone, a not-symbol.
“You must be my supervisor. Mega—Lord Megatron has mentioned someone would come in.”
He paused expectantly, as if waiting for a response. S-73 is suddenly gaining much clearer insight on all the ‘social pressure’ he has gleaned from the texts of the lifeforms on Earth. Awkwardly, he nods. The bot in front of him only tilts his head, his smile steadfast but shifting into one of bemusement.
Resisting the urge to tremble, S-73 clears his vocalizer. Heed the instructions. Heed the instructions. (Or never have the privilege to speak again.) “Yes, Orion Pax. I am to observe you and to ensure you perform your work adequately for the Decepticon cause. My designation is S-73.” He froze. It was not at all common for Vehicons to just give their form of address. They were disposable, no one cared.
But Orion positively beams. An odd expression to see on the once-weary Prime’s face. The smile reaches radiant cerulean optics.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, S-73. Please, do as you need for your supervision of me.” He gestures vaguely to the room’s interior, as if suggesting that S-73 make himself comfortable.
S-73 was not the one in combat today, yet he’s never felt such trepidation before. No one was stupid enough to utter it, but Lord Megatron is a possessive, jealous bot, and he clearly holds some stake in this… diminished form of Optimus Prime. He would surely offline S-73 for getting too comfortable around Orion Pax. But would he take similar offense if S-73 were to refuse an offer from an esteemed guest?
The drone’s legs decide for him, and S-73 finds himself situated comfortably within the room as the doors slide shut. Sealing him in. Orion Pax simply returns to work, typing rhythmically away at his station. It seems not even a guest is granted conditions much better than those allotted to Vehicons, save for the marginally-better privacy of his own room. The lighting was dim, everything illuminated by the strong light of the display. S-73 doesn’t think Lord Megatron even thought about accommodating Orion's bulkier fingers, the once-Prime needing incredible precision to not strike the wrong character on the keyboard (built for digits like S-73’s).
But he was careful, and well-practiced. From his position in a faraway corner, S-73 couldn’t identify a single time Pax needed to delete anything, despite his comfortable speed. In fact, Orion Pax seems absolutely lost to the world and any discomforts, whatever it was on the display capturing every iota of his attention.
Lord Megatron is definitely paranoid. Why were resources being wasted on watching Orion Pax? Any trace of Optimus Prime is gone, yet still S-73 stands here like a fool, mesmerized by his sturdy form and gentle composure. Perhaps it’s because the drone was built for tedium such as this. A worker watching another worker, though the latter clearly had some passion for his own lot. Maybe S-73’s processor is getting infected with something.
Before either of them know it, the strange, nebulous moment is broken by the door sliding open again. They both turn, Orion surprised and S-73 annoyed.
The other Vehicon standing in the doorway stares at S-73—most guard positions on the Nemesis only require a post taken outside the room of interest. But this was the most interesting thing to have happened to S-73, he would fight to keep it going as best as he could.
:: You’re relieved from your shift. ::
:: No need, I can continue keeping watch. The prisoner does not seem eager to go anywhere else. I can handle it. ::
:: You are needed in one of the mines. ::
S-73 turns back to Orion, whose gaze darts between the two drones, clearly aware there was some communication happening but uneasy about the topic possibly being him.
:: Please, can you cover that mine shift for me? I… I promised V-86 I would get some gossip out of him by the time I was done with this. ::
S-73 just needed an excuse to stay a little longer, however pitiful, but apparently this was enough to break the protocol of uniformity for the other Vehicon.
:: S-73! You, engaging in gossip? I never thought I’d see the day. ::
The Vehicon gave an appraising glance at Orion. Impossibly, the larger bot shrinks back slightly at this.
:: Well, sure. The mines sound a whole lot better right now than hanging around Prime. But you owe me too! With whatever info you get out of him. ::
The Vehicon promptly leaves without a word uttered aloud. Orion looks to S-73 for clarification.
“Ah… I was just told to extend my shift here, if that’s alright with you…” Oh, he sounds like an imbecile. Orion himself had no say in the matter! If he notices any of S-73’s foolishness, he shows no sign, smiling tentatively once more.
“That sounds fine. Thank you, S-73.” He turns back to his work without much preamble, murmuring one last thing, “I was just starting to appreciate your company.”
Unconsciously, S-73 stood up a little straighter. Oh, how did things go so wrong? S-73 has always been focused on his work, focused on another day still online with V-86.
He hates Optimus Prime. He hates Orion Pax (whomever he was). S-73 needs to hurry up and get some information out of him and stay as far away from this post as he can. Attachment to anything was dangerous, and there’s definitely going to be a rule against getting too attached to what seems to be his own Lord’s past attachment. A rule that is not to be written in S-73’s energon.