Chapter Text
Megatron didn’t know anything about new-sparks.
He wasn’t going to admit that, obviously. His standing among the High Guard had already slipped close to rock bottom. There was no need to start digging.
He had decided his preferred method to deal with the situation was to ignore it in its entirety. He was no longer purging his own fuel every few hours and that, in turn, had restored much of his strength, (though sadly not his dignity, after the entire guard had been witness to the frequent vomiting episodes).
Regardless, the condition Orion had left him in now had little effect on his function as both a warrior and the High Guard’s commander. For now, things could continue as normal. The sparkling would not arrive for months, and those months he intended to use well, securing the planet against the Quintesson invaders.
Besides, it was a private matter.
“It doesn’t twist that way, you moron!”
Or it would be, if certain members of the High Guard did not insist on being so over-involved.
They had stopped for nightfall and the setting sun had cast the landscape in a warm orange glow. It was just enough light to see by, and therefore the perfect time for idiot seekers to continue their construction of the new-spark incubator Megatron had insisted he did not want.
“Don’t just jam it in, you’ll break it!”
Starscream and Skywarp were sat surrounded by a myriad of parts, with a half-constructed thing that looked nothing like an incubator between them. Starscream lunged across to snatch a piece of paneling from Skywarp, who tried to fend him off by hitting him with it. They tumbled to the ground wrestling. Someone shrieked loud enough to stir the turbo-birds nesting on a nearby cliff.
Stood over them was the third seeker of their set, the blue one Megatron only knew as Thundercracker because he heard the poor mech’s designation so frequently screeched during arguments. He was holding the instruction data-pad no one wanted to read.
It was now the third day of this incubators attempted construction, and at this rate it would never be done. Thank the Primes for small mercies…
For a brief moment as he watched them, Megatron thought of Orion; equally as useless, scratching his helm, misplacing parts, and trying to study the instructions upside-down.
But his amusement was short lived, morphing into an ugly pain that twisted his spark as Orion’s carefree smile disappeared behind a battle-mask.
A shadow fell over him.
Megatron looked up to find himself being loomed over by Shockwave and Soundwave. They stood shoulder to shoulder, and despite the lack of expression available to them, they managed to projected an air of deep concern.
Megatron dropped his gaze again. “What now?”
“We have devised a plan.” Shockwave told him proudly, Soundwave nodding his agreement.
“A plan?” Megatron sneered miserably.
Across from them, Starscream had lost his temper with the incubator and was trying to stamp it to death. That was one problem solved, at least.
“What plan?”
“For the capture of Iacon City and the removal of its corrupt governance.” Shockwave explained, like it should be obvious. “Your condition will be used to our advantage.”
Megatron’s anger spiked -as it always did- at any mention of his ‘condition’. “What advantage could that possibly be?! I am weak. Slow. Vulnerable.”
“Affirmative.” Soundwave agreed unsympathetically.
It stung. Megatron hadn’t been looking for coddling reassurance that of course he wasn’t, that he was still the strong warrior they had chosen to lead them after his defeat of Sentinel Prime, but idea of the experienced Elite Guardsmech -those he had spent his life looking up to and still quietly desired the approval of- believing all the same shameful things he thought about himself, filled him with dread.
“Optimus Prime will lift the banishment when he learns of the new-spark you bear for him.” Shockwave explained.
When he learns…? Megatron’s anger became a sickening dread. He was long past the fuel rejection stage of his carriage, but the thought of this-
He brought a servo to his mouth, his spark beating hard.
“Find a bucket.” Shockwave demanded quickly, recognising the signs.
Used to this drill, Soundwave strode off to fetch one, and though Shockwave took a large step away from Megatron, he didn’t leave.
“Megatron-“ he began.
“Lord Megatron,” Megatron hissed through his denta, trying to breathe through his olfactory to keep from purging.
“…Lord Megatron,” Shockwave corrected. “It is vital we move soon. Before long, your condition will affect your ability to transform in battle, and you will need all your capabilities to face the new Prime.”
Megatron shook his helm, staring at the ground. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bear the idea of Orion knowing, of him having to tell him. How on Cybertron was he meant to face him in battle?!
And what would Orion say? Would he even care?
Orion had loved D-16. But Optimus hated Megatron.
And Megatron was the one carrying this sparkling.
“No.” Was all he said.
Shockwave stood over him in silence.
“I said no,” Megatron raised his voice, forcing himself to sound strong. He lifted his helm to meet Shockwave’s one-optic’d gaze. “We don’t need Iacon.”
It was at that point Soundwave returned with the bucket. Megatron angrily slapped it away. Soundwave stared at him in clear annoyance.
“Lord Megatron was decided we do not need Iacon.” Shockwave informed Soundwave stiffly.
Soundwave somehow looked even more annoyed.
“Megatron; inexperienced.”
Megatron gnashed his denta at him, optics flaring and armour locking together, ready to pounce, ready for Soundwave to challenge his authority so he could-
“I will bring Starscream.” Soundwave said instead, turning away.
Megatron found the fight draining from his systems like a metaphorical plug had been yanked out with no warning at the prospect of Starscream becoming involved in this conversion. Starscream who made him feel foolish, and young, and helpless, and had an irritating talent for steamrolling everyone else’s priorities in favour of his own.
“Do not bring-“
“Starscream.” Soundwave called, droning voice traveling to where Starscream was tutting at the wreck he’d made of the incubator.
The seeker looked their way and rolled his optics when he saw who was summoning him. He tossed a broken piece of equipment down for Skywarp to clean up and stomped his way over.
“If this is about the incubator, I know what I’m doing-!” He began testily.
“Lord Megatron has vetoed our plans for the infiltration of Iacon.” Shockwave explained.
“Vetoed?” Starscream repeated in disbelief. “He doesn’t get a veto. He’s six cycles old. And stop calling him ‘lord’-“
“You will address me with respect, Starscream.” Megatron growled, annoyed at literally every single word that came out of the seeker’s mouth and how well they worked at pushing his buttons.
Starscream was looking at him with anything but respect. “We need to retake Iacon City. We’re vulnerable on the surface. You are vulnerable on the surface.”
“I am not weak.”
“No. You’re sparked and that’s worse.” Starscream reminded him. “I’ve already written up the communication we’re going to send to that thoughtless idiot who took advantage of you, demanding he step up-“
“Orion didn’t-!” Megatron stopped himself, clenching his fists to steady himself. “…The Prime did not take advantage of me. I had a momentary lapse in judgement-“
“-which he took advantage of, precisely.” Starscream bulldozed over his embarrassment. “You arrange to meet. We escort you. He turns his back, and we blast his helm clean off his-“
“Enough!” Megatron barked, causing the seeker to blink in surprise. “Enough. How many times do I have to say it. I don’t want him involved.”
Starscream gave him a dull look, and explained slowly, as if he was dim, “He won’t be involved… if we kill him-“
Megatron decided to walk away. It was either that or start ripping Starscream limb from limb, and unlike before when everyone was happy for him to scrap with whoever he wanted, however he wanted, to establish his dominance and unquestioned position as leader, the High Guard had now grown insubordinate enough to keep pulling him off his targets and making him sit somewhere quiet to calm down. Because of the blasted sparkling!
“That’s right!” Starscream shouted after him. “Just walk away from me like you’re trying to walk away from your responsibilities! The sparkling’s not going anywhere ‘Lord’ Megatron!”
“Starscream; not helping.” Soundwave droned.
“Who said I was here to help?!”
Two cycles later, and Megatron’s dread hadn’t abated.
His thoughts raced, his recharge was disturbed, his spark didn’t to want to settle, and now his nausea was back, yet he couldn’t seem to purge.
He had so far managed to avoid further discussion of his high command’s plan to lure Optimus Prime out and eradicate him using the little accident he’d left behind by very tactfully running away any time one of them attempted to approach him. But that also left him at the disadvantage of not knowing where they were in their scheming.
And he had absolutely no faith in Starscream’s obedience. The seeker had claimed to have already drafted a doubtlessly humiliating communication. How much did it reveal? Had it already been sent?
What if it didn’t even elicit a response?
He was brooding atop a cliff at the end of another cycle, admiring the stunning but deadly shifting landscape of the Cybertronian badlands before him, when he heard someone approaching from behind. Someone with thrusters for feet.
Starscream, he thought, hurriedly searching his processor for an insult that was both clever and spiteful before the seeker could get one in first, but when he turned to deliver it, he found a different mech in his place.
“…Hey,” Thundercracker greeted awkwardly.
Megatron didn’t like the informality. He scowled. “What?”
“Sorry I- apologies, my Lord,” Thundercracker code switched to something more formal, straightening his back. “I came to deliver this.”
He stepped aside and (just when Megatron thought this week couldn’t get any worse!) revealed the completed new-spark incubator.
“Starscream and I finished it.” Thundercracker explained, oblivious to Megatron’s deteriorating mental state. “It was actually pretty simple, once Skywarp was out of the way.”
Megatron grunted, glaring at the blasted thing. Hating it. Hating what it symbolised. Hating that he would need it. Hating how small it was.
Hating it so much that he stepped forward, picked it up, and then punted it off the edge of the cliff. Thundercracker came forward to watch it plummet to the bottom, smashing to pieces when it hit the rocks.
They stared at it in silence for a moment.
“…We can build another one.” Thundercracker reassured kindly.
“Don’t bother.”
“Why?” Thundercracker frowned. “You’re not getting rid of it, are you?”
It snapped Megatron out of his stupor. Impropriety was a shared trait among the entire trine, it seemed.
And not that it was any of this mechs business, but-
“No.” He said firmly. “I’m keeping it. It’s mine.”
As was the t-cog that had allowed to him conceive it. He believed in fate. If this had been given to him, then he was meant to have it.
“Yeah, yours and the new Prime’s,” Thundercracker, for some reason, felt the need to remind him. Megatron thought about pushing him off the cliff next, but he had wings, so it wouldn’t be as satisfying. “If I were you, I wouldn’t leave it up to Starscream to break the news though.”
“He hasn’t, has he?” Megatron asked quickly.
“Soundwave keeping disconnecting his comm systems,” Thundercracker reassured. “But as soon as he figures out how to get them back online, he’s transmitting the news straight to Iacon.”
“Not if I kill him first.” Megatron snarled, whipping around and searching the camp for white arrogant wings.
“Be easier if you just told him yourself. Off the record.” Thundercracker ignited his thrusters, leaning over the cliff in preparation of retrieving the incubator Megatron had destroyed. “Then maybe you can meet up without anyone turning it into an assassination attempt.”
He stepped off the cliff edge before Megatron could say anything further, or argue what a foolish idea that would be. Or tell Thundercracker that it was none of his business and that he and his trine ought to keep their opinions to themselves before Megatron had them all dismantled for more useless sparkling equipment he didn’t want.
Tell the Prime?! Just tell him?! What a ridiculous idea. What a stupid, pointless, laughable way to make an absolute fool of himself.
He stared out across the badlands, watching the sun dip below the horizon as another cycle ended on the surface, and wondered if Optimus Prime and Orion Pax shared a comm frequency.