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“Look, all I’m trying to say is a track this good doesn’t come around often and this one is just sitting there. Unused, sad, alone, forgotten-a number of things-yet still perfectly good.” The red and orange mech hops up onto Megatron’s desk as he speaks, disturbing a few data pads as he slings his legs over the table.
Just minutes prior Megatron had been quietly working on one of the many, many things needed to be done on the Lost Light in a shared office space, a number of data pads and mini data pads neatly arranged on the desk by priority. Between him and Ultra Magnus they should have the full inventory of the ship done before it can take off again. Should now being the operative word considering he now has to deal with Rodimus who is less interested in work and more interested in whatever abandoned racetrack he and the other speedsters have found while planet-side.
“I fail to see how this has anything to do with me Rodimus. There’s actual work to be done and you’re in here, talking.” Megatron gets out with a near permanently exhausted tone to his voice.
“It has everything to do with you Megs! Listen, we’re stuck here for what’s looking to be several days while the brainiacs on board figure out what’s wrong with the engines this time. Drift and I have already done some laps on it. This is a good track. Better than good. It’s great!” he exclaims, body continuing to spread out on the desk, data pads getting pushed out of order even further. He knows what he’s doing.
“Then go with him again Rodimus. Or one of the others. This isn’t hard.”
“But I want to do some laps with you Megs,” Rodimus says with a wink and a smirk. “Race me.”
Megatron finally puts the data pad in his servo down and pinches the bridge of his nose instead. This mech really is too much. Too much everything at times and now is one of those times. And yet...Primus, he can’t give him up. He doesn’t want to. But that doesn’t make him any less annoying when he’s trying to get his way with something.
“You do recall I turn into a tank now, right? I’m not exactly race worthy.”
“Ok, so maybe not a race, but just be out there on the track with me. It’s seriously a good track. Whatever races they held here must have been top speed.”
Megatron opens his red optics and stares at Rodimus with a disapproving look while his processor turns over a few things. Rodimus is only this annoying when he wants something OR it’s something genuinely important to him but he’s choosing to be weird about it instead of flat out admitting to it. And Megatron would know. Sometimes he cannot simply admit to things that are emotionally important to him either and he and Rung are actively working on that part. The problem lies in that dealing with Rodimus is somehow more complicated than therapy.
“...Rodimus.”
“Yeah?”
“Is this just a you thing or a speedster thing?” Megatron asks, hoping to squeeze out the answer from him.
“What does it matter? Come on, it’ll be fun!”
Megatron finally gets up after staring at Rodimus’ blue optics for too long. The mech had started to genuinely pout at him after a few minutes. If this is an important thing to him then Megatron learns something new after millions of years. If it isn’t, and this is just an attempt to get under his plating, then he knows how to play a long game. Appease him now, let him exhaust himself on the track, then enjoy the silence later once the mech has to go to recharge or actually calm down for at least the night. So he gives in, optic twitching as data pads go scattering once Rodimus hops off of the desk to walk him off the Lost Light and onto the planet itself. Absolutely jovial and walking with a swagger the whole way.
The planet they’ve landed on is mostly solid ground. Top layer made up of relatively even clay and compacted stone. Some foliage, some subterranean fauna, but not a whole lot of anything else natural between paved roads. What buildings they can see are far away and scans have identified no signs of other life on the surface. It’s suspected that life forms like themselves lived here at some point but for whatever reason packed themselves up and left. A peaceful departure (speculated) but Megatron can’t help but scan for targets regardless as Rodimus changes form beside him.
“Well?” He asks, somehow smirking in his alt-mode. “Much easier if we drive there.”
Megatron can feel his exhaustion in his gears.
“Don’t make me regret this.”
Transformation sequence engaging, Megatron can feel each and every part that hasn’t been used since his boarding of the Lost Light. Stiff and creaking in a way that would probably make Ratchet flinch, only loosening up as parts lock in, limbs rotating into proper place, processor threads changing to give priority focus to his tactical view. It’s dizzying almost. It’s also incredibly relieving. Agonizingly good to be in his alt-mode again after what has felt like ages stretching parts that should be getting regular use. Even the way his energon flows shifts when he does. Engine rumbling loudly Megatron tests the road under his treads and starts to move, much to Rodimus’ enjoyment.
Much to Megatron’s surprise Rodimus keeps pace with him. He assumed the speedster would zoom off into the distance leaving Megatron to chase after him, but he doesn’t. Of course this creates the problem of Megatron not being able to see him. He can see in his alt but only through his tactical view, and if he swivels his upper portion around to see him the rest of him will want to follow. The idea of accidentally running Rodimus over probably would have made him laugh cycles ago, but now there’s a rare soft spot in his spark for the mech, so he keeps his view forward and listens to the rumbling of Rodimus beside him. It brings him some peace as he stretches his alt and thinks about what this actually means to Rodimus. What he possibly gets out of having a tank on a racetrack with him. Camaraderie? A sense of friendship? It’s unlike him to go at someone else’s pace both physically and metaphorically and while he’s definitely picked up to a reasonable speed it’s not anywhere near as fast as he knows Rodimus prefers to go. But he’s said nothing. He’s just there, keeping perfect pace. Engine rumble off to his right his only indicator, not a word said as the two drive over the landscape towards the track.
‘This whole thing is unusual for him....’
He won’t mention it though. He’d rather observe this development, especially when the track in question starts to come into view. Multiple floors, circular stands, tattered flags still waving on their posts, checkerboard walkways and dedicated entrances for the racers of the season. Anyone could take one look at the massive circular arena rising up on the horizon and know that many great competitions were held here. Even the road leading up to the track feels great under treads that don’t particularly care for terrain type in most cases. And then there’s the track itself. Megatron has never rolled onto a professional racetrack before (at least one that hadn’t been reduced to rubble beforehand) but even he can feel the difference in a well maintained road and a track designed to give the racers the best possible conditions.
“Oh...that is nice.”
“Yeah you feel that Megatron? That is a premium track. Get a bunch of us down here and we could blow off some serious steam. It probably rivals the tracks in Iacon. A shame we can’t just pack up a building and take it with us. I mean, maybe Brainstorm could think of something, which just means we’ll have to come back.”
Rodimus has no doubt put a mental pin in this planet but Megatron can’t find it in himself to scold him for something that small. Not when it’s looking like this is something actually important to the speedster as he revs his engines and takes off in a burst of speed, disappearing from Megatron’s tactical view once he gets to the first corner while the tank rolls to a stop at the starting line. Rodimus completes a lap in no time, coming right back around to Megatron’s side as the tank lets his treads finish adjusting for the smooth surface. It’s a delightful feeling, he’ll give the track that, but if Rodimus was expecting a race after all he’s still sorely mistaken.
That doesn’t mean that Megatron doesn’t want to push his engines a bit.
“How are you feeling? Wanna go as fast as you can? The track is built in such a way you’re not gonna spin out so easily if that’s what you’re worried about. I know we aren’t racing and obviously your treads are different from my tires, but still, just enjoy this with me?”
And there it is. The little thing that tells Megatron this is an important thing for Rodimus and even speedsters as a whole. It could be a courting ritual or just something speedsters do, but now that he knows this he’s not going to ruin a good thing. It’s just been awhile since he’s let himself go beyond certain speeds.
“Alright, but don’t complain when it takes me a moment.”
“Hell yeah!”
Rodimus’ excitement shows in his engine volume and in his inability to slow down again, speeding up ahead of him then whirling around to face him in alt as the tank starts to move again. Engines audibly working. To Megatron’s surprise his tactical view doesn’t immediately identify Rodimus as a target, reticle at rest and his lock-on functions letting him have full control over his sights as he starts picking up speed. He had gone at a leisurely pace coming up to the arena because he felt like it, not because he can’t go faster than any tank reasonably should. And even though his tactical view limits his range of vision he can still see the curve in the track. Problem is Rodimus is still facing him, and his first limiter just dropped off.
“Not exactly the wisest move to stay in front of a tank taking speed restrictions off Rodimus. I can’t exactly stop on a dime. And the curve is coming.”
“I know~ A simple track like this could be raced blind. I wonder if it has other configurations. No way it’s just for laps.”
And he proves it by taking the curve in reverse, watching Megatron’s treads account for the minor change in track height without losing speed. Once the curve is cleared Rodimus falls back into pace with Megatron to listen to him. His engines aren’t even roaring yet. At least he thinks. Rodimus only ever heard them rev a few times and those situations were followed by even louder yelling. But on the track it’s a whole different thing.
“Man, what a sound.” Rodimus teases one last time. It earns him a huff from the tank but he doesn’t slow down. In fact Rodimus hears something shift. A noticeable clunk before the tank gets a little bit louder, treads going a little bit faster. And the curve isn’t going to take him out if he releases the last restrictions. He only has them to prevent taking a battle in-alt too quickly and losing control, but since he’s not going to be firing at anything he can let them go. The last of the restrictions come off, protocols falling into place, visual alerts swiped away and confirmation within his own system given. And then his already loud engines genuinely begin to actually roar as he picks up the pace, clearing into the lower end of proper racing speed. He won’t (and knows for sure he won’t) give Rodimus any genuine competition, but he can feel in their fields that Rodimus is flattered by his attempts. By reciprocating this and being here with him on a racetrack even if they aren’t racing so much as of just keeping pace with one another.
And then the second curve comes. In his HUD Megatron gets a few warnings about his brakes, that he’s going too fast to reasonably stop and shoot any target in his view right now, but he ignores it. He takes the bend, grateful that Rodimus falls back and switches sides so Megatron has more space to take the outer lanes for it, and then they’re on the straight again. Going faster until he’s certain he’s reached the limit his treads will physically allow before he’s risking losing traction and friction all together.
To his surprise Rodimus’ engines are also working a bit more now. It’s hardly his limit as far as speedsters go, but it’s a nice stretch. A nice sound to hear beside him as they just drive together. What must it sound like at the Lost Light right now? A roaring tank and a speedster taking a track together must make quite the unique sound from afar. It’s almost harmonious. It’s enough to get Megatron to relax. No longer stiff from lack of transformation or aching from being so high strung. His head doesn’t even hurt anymore. Hells, his targeting reticle has faded away entirely.
The two stay like this for a while longer, enjoying each other’s company in silence save for the melody of their engines roaring down the track before Megatron is getting a slew of pings and comms notifications from Ultra Magnus. He forgot the mech could reach him like this in a channel designed explicitly for Lost Light emergencies and updates.
::I can’t find Rodimus and I can’t find you, but Perceptor has figured out what’s wrong with the engines. We’ll be ready for takeoff by sunset. I would hope at least you can explain to me why both Captain AND Co-Captain left the ship without proper notice given Rodimus' earlier disappearance with Drift::
He can practically hear Ultra Magnus’ disappointed and irritated tone in the comm.
::We’re on our way::
“…the Lost Light has been repaired.” Megatron says, breaking the peace with a voice he nearly forgot he had as he starts slowing down.
“Awe man. Lemme guess, Magnus?”
“Mhm.”
“Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!!!”
Preceded by the sound of what Megatron can only describe as an actual engine whine Rodimus speeds ahead down the track and very nearly lets himself spin out of control before he corrects himself and falls back into pace with an audible sigh. Rolling beside Megatron as they ride off of the track and down to a reluctant pace towards the Lost Light.
“Hey. Thanks for running it with me. I’ll ask Brainstorm later if he knows how to mass displace a building before we leave.”
And then he’s gone. A red streak towards the Lost Light and a blossoming field full of warmth, affection, and something that promises a different kind of encounter later.
Megatron soaks in it hungrily. A chase he’ll happily give once they’re settled back on board.