Ep1 - 'Watershed' - Closed
Sept 4, 2012 17:02:05 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Sept 4, 2012 17:02:05 GMT -5
Since Cleaver had deemed it necessary for him to remain in the sublevel when he wasn't under her servos in the Medbay, Megatronus had extended the tunnel forty-one feet, exposed three mineral traces indicating energon veins, and installed a from-scratch a trapeziform support to stablise the extension. In between the mining and the Medbay, his recharge cycles were broken and inefficient, his processor still throwing glitches over missing data and scrambling the defrag subroutines with sharp lances of pain.
Awake, though, the manual labour helped him think, channelling away the frustrated energy as a productive kind of violence. It was impossible to fully comprehend the enormity of what had passed, of the time he had lost and how much horrifying change had taken place for their kind. Megatronus had barely gotten a handle on the new shape of the ‘verse when his transformed brother had come in.
What little Cleaver had told him - the barest outlines of the war and the energon-soaked part of the mech he had become in it - was just words, soaked in glyphs and telling field-fluctuations as they were. Orion standing before him, bulked out with battle-scarred armour and weaponry, an impenetrable mask covering his always-emotive faceplates, and regarding him with such cold suspicion in his optics...
Seeing the gentle archivist he remembered seeing only a few cycles ago so deformed by war had twisted his tanks.
To one side of the tunnel, the heap of energon crystals glowed a soft, blue light in the darkness. Behind him, the welding equipment lay tidily against the base of the last support arch they had been used to make.
Orion, Optimus, had not yet followed. And he could not just sit quietly and wait.
Megatronus sunk his claws into the rock again, pulling away ragged chunks flecked with micro-crystals of pure energon. The solid crystal that had spawned the offshoots was visible in the crack left behind, and the miner lay his fist into the stone to free it.
Awake, though, the manual labour helped him think, channelling away the frustrated energy as a productive kind of violence. It was impossible to fully comprehend the enormity of what had passed, of the time he had lost and how much horrifying change had taken place for their kind. Megatronus had barely gotten a handle on the new shape of the ‘verse when his transformed brother had come in.
What little Cleaver had told him - the barest outlines of the war and the energon-soaked part of the mech he had become in it - was just words, soaked in glyphs and telling field-fluctuations as they were. Orion standing before him, bulked out with battle-scarred armour and weaponry, an impenetrable mask covering his always-emotive faceplates, and regarding him with such cold suspicion in his optics...
Seeing the gentle archivist he remembered seeing only a few cycles ago so deformed by war had twisted his tanks.
To one side of the tunnel, the heap of energon crystals glowed a soft, blue light in the darkness. Behind him, the welding equipment lay tidily against the base of the last support arch they had been used to make.
Orion, Optimus, had not yet followed. And he could not just sit quietly and wait.
Megatronus sunk his claws into the rock again, pulling away ragged chunks flecked with micro-crystals of pure energon. The solid crystal that had spawned the offshoots was visible in the crack left behind, and the miner lay his fist into the stone to free it.