Chapter Text
[PRIMARY MISSION: PROTECT AND SUPPORT DESIGNATION OPTIMUS PRIME]
Megatron raised his sword as the crowd cheered around him.
[MISSION STATUS: INACTIVE]
He expertly ignored the messaging. It never stopped flashing, but he’d already looked; there was no bot by the name Optimus, much less a prime.
He trudged to the medbay for the courtesy check-up after a match.
Medical Officer Ratchet scoffed when he saw him. “What are you doing here? That bot never even touched you.”
“It’s the rules," Megatron reminded him.
“Screw the rules, stop wasting my time.”
Megaton shrugged and turned away.
“Ratchet!” an unfamiliar voice called.
Ratchet groaned. “Orion Pax, you better not have gotten yourself hurt again.”
Megatron glanced behind him and froze.
[MISSION STATUS: ACTIVATING...]
A small red and blue bot stood with Ratchet, a sheepish smile on his face. “No, I’m fine. Sorry about that. I just found the data cylinder you wanted! I thought I would deliver it in person?”
Ratchet took the offered cylinder. “You just wanted an excuse to meet Megatronus.”
Orion raised his servos. “No! No, it was enough just to watch! I’d never ask you to abuse your position like that!” He sounded so painfully genuine.
Megatron reset his optics.
[MISSION STATUS: ACTIVE.]
[PRIMARY MISSION: PROTECT AND SUPPORT DESIGNATION OPTIMUS PRIME-DESIGNATION OP-01 DESIGNATION ORION PAX.]
[TARGET STATUS: TEMPORALLY SAFE.]
[RESPONSE: INTEGRATE SELF IN TARGET'S SPACE]
Megatron reset his optics again. For once, every alert on his HUD was gone. Instead, he was looking down at a starstruck civilian-frame.
“Megatronus,” Ratchet frowned at him. “Are your alerts acting up again?”
Megatron reset his optics again, turning his gaze to the doctor.
[WARNING: TARGET NO LONGER IN VIEW]
Megatron looked back at the small bot. The alert vanished. He shuttered his optics. “No, doctor. I merely heard my name and grew curious.”
Ratchet raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Well, why don’t you see Orion out. He has a habit of getting lost.”
Orion rubbed the back of his neck apologetically.
Megatron nodded. “Fine, follow me, Orion Pax.”
Orion looked up at him with awestruck optics and nodded excitedly. “Right! Lead the way, sir!”
Megatron didn’t dignify that with a response.
The small warning letting him know that Orion was out of sight was much easier to ignore than the prior warnings. Megatron marveled at the difference. He could see so much better now.
“If you wouldn't mind,” Orion started awkwardly. “I have a question about your essay on the damages of functionalism.”
Megatron glanced back at the little bot in surprise. “You read my essay?”
Orion nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve read all your work. They’re very well researched and thought-through. Although the professors weren’t happy when I cited them.” Orion shrugged his shoulders in a what-can-you-do gesture.
Megatron hummed, his curiosity piqued. “Ask your question. I will see if I can answer it.”
What followed was the most engaging debate of Megatron’s life. Orion asked good questions, thought through his responses, and conceded when he was wrong. He was also very knowledgeable. Megatron had forgotten what it was like to be challenged in a conversation.
Orion’s comm beeped. He looked surprised. “Primus! When’d it get so late!? I’ve got to go!”
“Wait,” Megatron struggled with the protocols demanding he keep Orion safe and the knowledge that the civilian was safer away from him. “I enjoyed our conversation. Would you be open to exchanging comm codes?”
Orion’s optics widened, and his jaw dropped. “Wha- wait, really!? Yes! Uh, here…”
The War-frame and Auto-frame exchanged comm codes before the latter had to rush off. Megatron watched him leave with narrowed optics as his processor sorted through this new development. This changed things.