Ep1.5 - 'Lost Luggage' - Closed

[Deleted]

<<Week 1, Day 6>>

Fairwinds wasn't leaving him alone. There were limits as to how short she could cut her duty shifts, but otherwise the cassette was either docked (she could recharge, fuel and still work whilst hardlined in) or waiting to dock. At the very least, Megatron supposed, it was keeping her out of mischief.

It was also reassuring to have someone on-hand -who actually knew what was going on- to query at a moment's notice. Knock Out had instructed him to keep his processor stimulated to encourage the neural pathways to link back up correctly; specifically to interact with the crew and walk around the ship. Though the doctor had not explicitly banned him from leaving the ship, the warning that he would do so if required had been very clear.

Megatron had no intention of leaving the Nemesis, either by groundbridge (the world below was going to be unfathomably alien to him if the Cybertronian ship was unfamiliar) or flight (Knock Out said that it was only his memories he was disconnected from, but he didn't wish to test that theory in case 'learning to operate his flight mode' fell necessarily into that category). The Nemesis itself was exceptionally large, and after five days of periodic roaming, he still hadn't seen half of it.

For the most part, the commander had avoided the busiest concourses. There were simply too many faces flickering through his processor, which burned as it tried and failed to identify them. It was getting late now, however, and the night shift was a thinner crowd to move through. Most mecha were taking their recreational time before recharging, and the corridors were quiet.

He looked in on the Eradicon mess hall as he was passing, thankfully unseen as the awakened soldiers were embroiled in what appeared to be a very heated card tournament. The standard drones were taking their rations from the dispenser and sitting in orderly lines away from the commotion, staying as long as it took to refuel before the left for their barracks.

Megatron withdrew from the doorway, unnoticed, intending to see if there were any other recreational spaces on this level. Stepping backwards, he almost stood on the other mechanism before actually seeing it. He stooped to catch her automatically, her identity a mystery whilst the makeshift algorithm ran. She could have been anyone.

"My apologies," he rumbled, frowning as he set her on her feet and glanced her over for any damage. He could have crushed one of her limbs without noticing.

Finally, a name came up. Sharp shooter. No significant rank. A field agent, and one that he apparently trusted.

"Roulette." Saying the name was as much for his sake as to affirm to her that he knew who she was. He should have moved on, left her to whatever it was she had been doing, but that felt awkward.


Instead he frowned, nodding to her frame in general. "Are you injured?"

[Deleted]

Roulette had given herself a processor ache. Shockwave, as irritating as he could be, was also perfectly distracting in his orders. After her initial rescue, she'd made an offhand comment that led to him wanting the blueprints for a weapon that couldn't exist. Because of course he did. Why in the pit did he think she'd know how to create such a thing?

So she'd spent more than a few cycles theorizing, drafting, and deleting designs for a weapon that couldn't be created. For frag's sake, there was no weaponize munition for liquid nitrogen. Not unless one just threw the stinging, freezing crap on someone. She'd even gotten a tiny sample (unwisely given to her by the very mech she was trying to please) and tried to make a bullet. But one couldn't make a bullet with liquid nitrogen and fire it.

The first problem would be containing it. Not everything could hold liquid nitrogen. And handling the cold solution was hazardous and tricky. Then the size of the bullet was questionable. A bullet contained a single shot or tiny pellets (depending on how detailed one wanted to get) and even if one was using a rather large shell (say a mortar round) they still wouldn't have enough liquid nitrogen to be damaging. Annoying, yes, not damaging.

That didn't even count shooting the bullet. At best one was looking at vaporizing the solution and at worst, the gun blew up in their hands and liquid nitrogen went everywhere. Or possibly jam the gun with the frozen bullet. She'd gone over and over this trying to make it work. Always she came to the same conclusion: Shockwave was an idiot.

A internal alarm chimed to let her know she had missed several cycles worth of refueling and the drain was starting to slow her mental processes down to sludge. But she wasn't finished with the report that was actually overdue. Hrrg, what to do? She wanted to fling the datapad across the room and call it a day. But that insidious need to finish what she started kept staying her hand.

Frag's sake, alright. I'll finish it while I refuel. Case closed, there is not making this stupid weapon. She carried the datapad between two fingers while heading out of her domicile and toward the mess hall. This was the time of the evening on the ship she enjoyed the most. The quiet was soothing and she could actually focus on the hum of the ship, something she'd come to count on in the late night when she couldn't find rest.

So..if you can't make the weapon, how did MECH manage to do so? The traitorous thought popped up and caused her to pause mid-stride, if only for half a second. How indeed...Maybe I'm missing something in my notes. No slagging humans are going to outdo me.

Frowning, she continued walking and brought the datapad up to her face to study as she moved. She could chew gum and think at the same time, prior to current knowledge about her. Besides, it wasn't like she was in any danger of running into someone. The only ones lurking about at this time of the evening were drones and they didn't run into anyone of rank, no matter how middling. It wasn't like she had to watch out for anyone higher ranking, why would they be on this side of the ship? That's why she-

A huge shadow loomed over her, which said something in the ambient gloom of the hallways, and she looked up with a startled gasp. Just in time to be picked up by someone fragging huge. Instinctively, she shoved out with the hand holding the datapad, intent on whapping whoever dared to manhandle her. Although, to be fair, the datapad was a poor sort of weapon and in the confusing tangle of bodies, she ended up losing her grip on it.

"My apologies,"

That voice froze her like a statue even as she was placed on her feet with surprising care. That was most definitely not who she thought it was. Could not possibly be. Her luck couldn't be that utterly rotten. Opening her optics into a squint, she found herself looking at the hips of-yep, frag her, that was Megatron alright. No one else even came close to matching the same body frame.

"Are you injured?"

"I-I-buh-" she stuttered, stepping back and holding up her arms in that placating gesture known only to the lower ranking. She tried to stop thinking beyond such helpful thoughts of 'This is how I die now' and 'You tried to swat him with a datapad like he was a misbehaving cassette.'

[Deleted]

Megatron remained utterly still as Roulette backed up, hands raised in supplication, and began stuttering at him.

He had no idea if he had given her reason to be fearful of him, but she hadn't been flagged up as a traitor or someone who needed watching. Roulette was significantly smaller than him, and he could kill her with very little effort; was that a legitimate fear this subordinate lived with? Was his leadership of the Decepticons truly that... savage?

No. As much as he didn't know the specifics, Megatron knew who he was. He was hard, unforgiving, and possessed a formidable will, but he was no casual bully.

Roulette's open and consuming fear was a troubling mystery. He ought to leave and consult Fairwinds later, when the cassette had come out of recharge, but he'd ended up in a strange frozen tableau with the sharpshooter.

Roulette had dropped her datapad; it had skittered a few feet away in the confusion. Currently he was standing closer to it, and he debated picking it up and handing it to her.

Something stirred in the back of his processor.

Whilst docked, Fairwinds could communicate with him faster than across a comm. line. There were no 'words', technically speaking, and her 'voice' was entangled with the thoughts and feelings of her consciousness. An initial sense of confusion was followed by a quick view of his open optical feed, and then there was a warm sense of familiar delight.

::Oh, Rou! We like her!::

::I thought you were recharging.::

::I was, then there was this big spike through your systems and I thought something happened. Did something happen?::

::No. Not really.::

::So why're we standing here?::

::She dropped her datapad.:: He glanced at said item for visual confirmation.

::So? Pick it up.::

::Wouldn't that be... inappropriate?::

::Pfft. You're not her acting commander right now.:: Her 'tone' shifted from dismissive to something altogether more... manipulative. ::And she's totally used to you being all chivalrous.::

Megatron scoffed back at her across the private connection. ::I'm struggling to believe that.::

::No, really! You personally helped her out with her target practice.::

He paused, uncertain. Hands-on training was a tendency of his, though he was far from a specialist when it came to shooting. Hence the size of the barrel on his plasma cannon; hard to miss.

::I did?::

::Yeah! It was just like the pottery wheel bit in 'Ghost'. Okay, maybe nothing like that, but you've never even seen 'Ghost', even before your processor got fried, so it's a pretty moot-::

Rapid as this exchange was, two whole seconds had passed now, and Roulette was starting to stare ::Fairwinds!::

::Pick up the damn 'pad! She's freaking out and she's my BFF and-::

::FineFINE::

He picked up the 'damn 'pad' and held it out to her, still scowling at Fairwinds. When Roulette didn't move, he arched an optical ridge.

Megatron did not wave the datapad at her a little bit. That was a natural tremble from a hydraulic cable in his wrist twitching as a result of the damage in his neural net.

When she continued to say and do nothing, he pressed:

"Do you want this back, or did it happen to be intended for me?"

[Deleted]

Roulette had a few seconds of staring and sheer frozen surprise that kept her immobilized as effectively as a cocoon. She could take in all kinds of things she hadn't noticed about the Warlord before. Like he was seriously fecking tall. How did he even fit through some of the doorways? How big was his berth? Did he ever break the furniture on the ship by leaning on it?

On top of those quandaries she also noted the repairs on his face and just as easily as the fear triggered, realization set her free to move. That's right, Shockwave had given her a brief one-of about his injuries and taking time off from whatever it was that Decepticon Leaders did. She'd even seen the weapon that had managed to deal such damage to the giant mech and that, in and of itself, was terrifying. A human made weapon that had fragged up their behemoth of a leader was not something she wanted to be near. She refused to linger near the object in Shockwave's lab because it was offensive on so many levels.

Stop staring! Why do you stare so much?! She mentally shrieked at herself. This is so awkward, I'm going to die from sheer awkwardness!

She flexed her hand out and reached for the datapad with a surprisingly steady hand. One didn't get to be a sharpshooter without having a steady aim. Even when she was nervous, she rarely shook like a leaf. And hadn't that taken millenia of practice (and some mental rerouting the medic's would frown upon). When her life was on the line and her aim was the only thing keeping her damage free, one didn't have the luxury to shake like a maraca. That didn't mean inside she wasn't mentally running in circles and caterwauling like a startled cat.

His hands are fragging larger than my head! She mentally balked at that and metaphorically threw up her hands, giving the universe's biggest NOPE.

"Forgive me, Lord Megatron. You-" scared the slag right out of me, "-startled me. I didn't think you'd...be here." Which prompted so many questions but the main being why in the slag was he here? This wasn't even the wing he resided in. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

She winced at the question as soon as it left her vox. "I'm sorry, that was too forward. Far, far too forward."

[Deleted]

"No, it's fine," Megatron replied, the frown still in place. His tone was distracted, puzzling over her puzzlement that he would be 'here'.

Why wouldn't he be here? This was a relatively communal area which saw a lot of traffic throughout the day shift. It was separated from the barracks by the mess hall, general commissary (which seemed to stock a lot of brightly coloured things behind reinforced glass), and cleaning area for the majority of the crew without their own private washrack.

It dawned on him that perhaps this area, which held nothing of direct use or interest to him, was a kind of unofficial sanctuary from the command officers. Megatron took in his surroundings anew and saw it as the Vehicons might: As an area to relax (insomuch as a Decepticon on the flagship could relax) without fear of unexpectedly running into a superior officer whilst in the middle of a vaguely insulting joke about said senior staff; with an armful of human-hobby paraphernalia; or cratered on High Grade.

There was nowhere on the Nemesis that was off-limits to its commander, but certainly there were still places he didn't belong. It was some stroke of fortune that he had roamed this much before stumbling upon such a zone, unless he had already done so unknowingly.

Megatron abandoned the decidedly unproductive train of thought. Knock Out had said to re-familiarise himself with the ship and talk to the crew to encourage healing, and that's what he would continue to do.

He returned his attention to Roulette, and the implied question as to what he was doing here.

"Knock Out has recommended that, socialising" -and didn't that word feel strange in his mouth- "would be beneficial to recovery." Wryly, he added, "I am perfectly rested. Merely... a little lost. Schematics, even with Fairwinds' annotations, only tell so much. "

[Deleted]

"You...socializing." Roulette held onto the datapad and just stared at him, again slaggit, for a moment longer than was necessary. Her processor was definitely having trouble with the concept of Megatron trying to...socialize with his underlings. It wasn't that she felt he was too lofty to lower himself to such standards, it was just...socializing suggested a certain free time and leisure to a mech that didn't appear to prefer and have either.

The funny part is, this is logical but it's also like the biggest oxymoron to exist.

"I am perfectly rested. Merely... a little lost. Schematics, even with Fairwinds' annotations, only tell so much. "

She shifted in place looked at the docking area very fleetingly at the mention of the cassette. Don't think I'm not onto you, you sneaky, little bird. At the moment, despite the threat of Megatron being very much Megatron, he just didn't have the same presence to him that made him so terrifying. He was more casually menacing by default.

The tension in her body changed to an almost languid demeanor. She could do this, right? This talking to the giant, scary Warlord. Asking what he didn't remember, however, seemed too personal and slightly wheedling. What did she care what he didn't remember? It wasn't her place to know. And he was likely getting tired of being asked and prodded about his injuries at the moment. That's what Knockout was for, not a silly, little sharpshooter with too much time on her hands.

"I was really disoriented after the," she gestured to her optic. "-the attack left some damage. But mostly it was the feeling of being off, somehow. I'm sure it was mostly memory but it took me cycles to stop feeling like I had someone spliced into my lines like a parasite." Even the memory of the sensation made her want to scratch at the optic. A tick she ruthlessly resisted as she knew full well it'd serve no purpose.

"But," she continued on rather quickly, "I'm sure you don't want to hear about my neural tics. What do you know about making exploding, experimental ammunition?" She dared to grin, even if the smile was fleeting and hinted at the corner of her mouth. Let's see if that threw him.

[Deleted]

The "Um" that came in response to that 'totally out of left field'-seeming question was, thus far, the most painfully obvious indicator that Megatron's faculties were somewhat scattered, melted and cross-firing.

He looked down at the datapad, just in case there was anything on the screen that could have suggested whether she was joking or not. Their height difference, and the fact that Roulette was rather holding the pad to her chest rather like a shield, meant he couldn't see even if there was some kind of exploding ordinance diagram on there.

::Is she talking about party poppers? The firey kind?::

::I honestly don't know.::

Megatron considered offering Fairwinds' expertise, then reconsidered the juxtaposition of 'neural tics' and 'exploding, experimental ammunition'. For all he knew, Roulette was talking about making something intended for a prank rather than developing a new weapon for their army. If it was the former, he wanted no part of it; if the latter, he didn't know what he knew.

Leaving the question of ammunition and Roulette's possible intents, Megatron put forth another question that she'd raised. ::What is the attack she's referring to?::

There was a very short pause. ::Um.

Megatron's side of the connected huffed impatience. ::What do you mean: um?::

Another, slightly longer pause. ::Knock Out said you shouldn't get worked up over anything whilst you're in recovery.::

::He said no such thing.::

::Well not to your face, no,:: Fairwinds scoffed back. ::But to mine and Soundwave's he did.::

Megatron dismissed the urge to jab at the docked cassette, settling for an internal growl instead. ::Out with it.::

::It's fine! Just usual capture and torture stuff. She's better now.::

::Torture by whom?::

Fairwinds was silent a moment, and then her 'tone' turned somber. ::We'll deal with it later.::

Yes, they certainly would. He certainly couldn't consider a response (or determine if one was necessary) in this state of ignorance, and it would benefit no one to try.

Patience. Recovery was about patience.

Megatron left Fairwinds to whatever mulling she had sunk into and returned to the query at hand. He'd only left Roulette waiting a few seconds.

After the 'Um'.

"You would perhaps know better than me, at present," he replied with a dryness that betrayed just how much that frustrated him. "I believe that my knowledge and skills are fairly specific to melee combat. Hand-to-hand, I could help with, but ammunition, and particularly experimental ammunition, I am not confident I could be of much help with."

[Deleted]

Holy slag, he really is messed up. I...I don't know what to do with this development. There was no contingency plan for their dear leader having an "off day." She was reduced to staring again and had to physically give herself a shake to stop doing so. Not only was she nervously prattling on, her field was twanging from forced mellow to prickly with each response she got from him.

You're going to make him feel worse if you keep it up. Pfft, wait, how can I make him feel worse? I think MECH holds the crowning champion of that at the moment. I'm just making things interesting for him. Besides, a confusing distraction is better than dwelling on missing a part of yourself.

She didn't want to dwell on the directions her thoughts were trying to take. That path led to dark things. Here there be monsters, the edge of the world, an impossible fall to oblivion. Her sister's stupid laugh that had always sort of grated on her nerves...

"Ah, don't mind me." Primus, why should you be? Why are you still talking to me?? "Shockwave has given me an impossible task because he's a sadist." Technically, what she said wasn't a lie. Shockwave could be downright evil to anyone that happened to be stuck in the path of his dear science. Even if he'd never done anything outright harmful to her. "And I don't think even your skills could improve my melee skills."

What had she just said?

"I'm sorry." Her optics could not get any wider if she physically tried.

[Deleted]

Her dismissive remark about Shockwave, to Megatron's relief, effectively closed the topic of explosive, experimental ammunition and his arguable ability to assist or advise. Her following remark was... far more promising.

"Why?" he asked, and his frown at her second apology in this exchange (they'd been talking less than two minutes - surely that was an extraordinary amount of apologies?) was quite feigned. "That sounded like a challenge."

Megatron folded his arms across his chassis and considered the femme as he would have a Tier 3 gladiator - young, green and with possible potential. It was a reassuringly familiar feeling, likely because those memories were so old and ingrained in his processor. The idea of sparing, of doing something more than walking around this ship -with no chance of leaving until Knock Out certified him fit to do so- was highly appealing.

She was small, but her hands were apparently steady under pressure and her balance was sound. Compact frametype,but not so frail as to be dedicated to speed and unable to take any real blows. Legs and pedes suggested some decent agility, and the pitch of her engines and hydraulics rang of stamina. Her profession indicated a wealth of patience; a quality often overlooked in physical combat. Roulette had a bit of attitude, too. Gutsy, but not arrogant.

His scarred lip-plates pulled into a faint smile. "I'm partial to challenges, and presently have all the time I wish to partake in them."

Megatron gestured towards her with one hand, long fingers extended. "If you're game, that is."

[Deleted]

She almost scoffed outright when he asked why. Good Primus, look at her! She wasn't made for hand to hand. Sure, she could think fast but that didn't mean she could move fast. And the thought of tangling with an opponent so close sort of repelled her. But, she had to admit to herself, you can't stay out of CQC forever. One day someone is going to get into your defenses and then what are you going to do?

"That sounded like a challenge."

Somehow she felt she should have seen that coming but the statement still crashed into her with the force of a train. Internally she squeaked that it hadn't been a challenge! But she remained mute even as her optics grew wide and she hugged the datapad to her chest. Blessedly, as surprised as she was, her field still remained fairly calm with only a flicker of nervousness broadcasting loud and clear.

And then he looked at her.

Roulette was used to being passed over, ever in the shadow of Shockwave. As intimidating as it seemed, being a proxy for the crazy mech was a perfect buffer. At his side, she was over looked as another tool, an extension of the mech, and anything she did was reflected on him. Even when she was carrying out orders for him, it was always with him in mind that anyone looked at Roulette. No one really looked at her to see her for what she was. Which was to say: just a grunt. Having Megatron take the time to actually size her up and actually look at her, notice her frame, whatever meager talents she may have possessed was actually beyond terrifying. It made her Someone. Being Someone in the Decepticon ranks was dangerous.

Just tell him no. Just leave him alone and stop this mad train before it derails and blows up in your face. Do it!

The words were nearly free of her vox but the proverbial gauntlet was thrown at her feet and she mentally balked at walking away from the challenge. Not only was this a useful trait he was willing to teach her (and she did love learning something challenging) but she had a chance to study how he moved up close and personal. What if he had a catch in his shoulder? In his step? Was he hiding something in that massive frame? And how could she walk away from a generous offer from him and live with it later? Every decision had a ripple affect and-

I'm giving myself a processor ache while thinking in circles. Frag it, I've lived a decent life.

"Ah..sure." She timidly spoke, her vox softer than she'd intended. With a small cough she cleared the static from her throat and straightened up. Piece of cake. She was only going to spar with the reigning slagging Gladiator of Kaon. No big, really. "But just so we are clear...I have very little training in hand to hand..."

Her training was so far back she couldn't even remember the instructor's face or designation.

[Deleted]

"Then it's high time you received further training," Megatron replied, with all the natural authority and certainty of a leader. "I don't imagine you are always so conveniently placed to make your shots."

Roulette clearly had some skills in close combat, else a phenomenal amount of luck to have survived this long in the war. The only other explanation was cowardice, but she didn't seem the type, and he doubted she would have a place on the Decepticon flagship were that the case.

He also had a growing suspicion that she could be formidable should she put her mind to it.

Megatron would tell her none of this, of course, equating praise with permission to slack off and cease trying to improve. Victory, survival were praise enough. Anything more was pandering to ego which, though occasionally useful in manipulating prideful individuals, ultimately served no purpose.

Instead, Megatron left Roulette to fall in step alongside (and slightly behind) him.

The training rooms were two levels above and for the use of officers. Megatron demanded that everyone on this ship be capable of formidable combat should they be called upon, and was known to put the officers through their paces when the mood struck him. The only exception was the Seekers and Eradicon fliers, whom Starscream oversaw personally. The rest of the grounders suffered Breakdown's drills every few orn, and found it to be in their best interests to keep in good form.

As they walked, Megatron lifted a hand to the cassette folded tight beneath his chassis. "Fairwinds, now."

At the command, which had followed a silent one to eject that she had been formulating a clever protests against, Fairwinds began the shunting transformations that would disengage her from her carrier's frame. Falling away, she boosted up to land on the mighty arm held out to her, and regarded her master with bright optics.

"Go on ahead and clear the room," Megatron ordered, lifting her away from his chassis. "And disable the cameras."

When the cassette was safely away, he looked down to the small femme trailing alongside him. "I take it that we have not done this before," he said, rather more quietly than his instructions to Fairwinds had been.

[Deleted]

Roulette was thinking while she followed him. Which wasn't an unheard of past time for the femme. For all the guff she gave Shockwave, she and he had similar interests in their pursuits for knowledge. She, however, wasn't as dedicated to the art of science. Sometimes a femme just had to know, ya know? So thinking and planning was second nature to her, a skill only honed sharper by her relationship with the one-opticed booby.

Roulette was thinking of fleeing. Which was terribly cowardly and probably wouldn't get her far, but running away seemed an entirely sane option. Because if she didn't, she was going to have to train with Megatron. And while there were mechs who would lay down on an alter and sacrifice their spark for the chance, Roulette was entirely too fixated on the fact that their leader was taller than her by more than half.

But, she helpfully pointed out to herself, she had already told him yes. You couldn't just tell the leader of the Decepticons yes and then flee like a glitch mouse. That raised all sorts of uncomfortable repercussions she didn't want to think about. Those were filed in a folder labeled "nope" and put away. So she was going to have to spar with him.

What was the worst that could happen? No, really what was the worst that could happen? It wasn't like he was going to murder her. Well, possibly by accident. Have you seen the size of his fists? I'm just saying, one "oopsy" and you're toast, sweetie. She cringed at her own pet name. Now she was talking to herself. Always a good sign for sanity.

She came out of her own revelry long enough to hear the last pseudo question directed at her. It was all she could do not to make a scoffing sound out loud. It wasn't his fault he couldn't remember the particularities of their ah...not involvement. If he was frustrated by the lack of memories, he was hiding it really well. Roulette would have been nearly insane with worry. Possibly. She'd have to think of what that would be like later.

"...I spend most my time in Shockwave's lab. Don't get much time for practice and usually I spend that on these." She patted one of the pistols tucked into the compartments on her hips. It was true. She did spend most of her time in the lab either pestering the large mech or running dubious errands for him. Megatron, at the moment, wouldn't know the difference and she didn't have to imply that they never associated at all.

[Deleted]

He had never been (to his recent discoveries of discomfort, and his extremely limited recollection) an overly 'chatty' mech, preferring solitude and a datapad to idle conversation. This was certainly evidenced by the reams of writing he'd discovered in his private archive, though he'd only read a fraction of it. The most recent documents (though still dated several millenia ago) were calls to arms, political speeches and manifestos of revolution. The earlier stuff was decidedly more personal, and he had felt like he was reading the words of a stranger.

This, however -entering into training of the body and mind- was familiar down to his struts, and he felt lighter for bringing another onto this known ground. That Roulette was going along with it, and openly with some reservations about her ability to perform, raised her in his esteem and further relaxed his field against hers.

"I haven't met Shockwave yet," Megatron replied, lulled into the conversation by her growing ease with him and his own force of will. "I don't know how accurately his reputation precedes him..."

Fairwinds was waiting above the door into the first training area, beaming down at them. "I turned off all the cameras like you said, Master, and told Soundwave to get over himself when he got huffy, and then I said you'd said and he didn't say anything to that." She gave a little nod to herself, pleased. "Hi Roulette! You excited? I'm excited. It's gonna be super fun."

Megatron stared at the bubbly cassette for a moment and then looked down to Roulette. He honestly couldn't tell if she and Roulette were friends as Fairwinds seemed to speak like this to everyone. Across the cassette/carrier link, he sensed a definite fondness towards the sniper, and delight in their prolonged interaction.

Rather than immediately taking Roulette inside, he waited a moment for the pair to speak. Interacting with the crew included observing interactions, and he would take every clue he could get when it came to deciphering the messy squiggle that was Fairwinds' mind.

[Deleted]

Roulette pivoted smoothly on her heel and had every intention of letting Windy know just how she felt about the situation...and promptly wilted at the look on the cassette's face. Windy was truly, truly happy for once. Her body nearly sang with glee for the moment and even Roulette couldn't begrudge her the chance for some token of happiness. Even if it did come at her own expense.

She'd never had a cassette, and after watching Windy, would rather hack off her own arm with a dull saw than get one. Roulette wasn't the type of femme that shared herself with anyone else. Even with her sister she'd been rather closed off, showing rare glimpses when her sibling had metaphorically pried her open and curled inside like a stray photovoltai cat. That hole still existed, empty as a fledged nest.

"Sure, Windy. Stick around to watch my humiliating defeat, hm?" She had no doubt this was going to be painfully one-sided in every way. Against better judgement she offered the chirpy pigeon her datapad. "Write Shockwave a note on that if you want. He's being insufferable again." She winked before stepping back and away from the door, hands empty and lax by her hips.

[Deleted]

Megatron did nothing more than watch her go, caught off-guard by her attitude-laced remarks and pelvic-sashay, and suspected that the only difference if he did have his processor intact would be greater control over his facial expression.

Fairwinds swung herself to hang inverted in the doorframe, looking to her carrier for confirmation of Roulette's invitation. When she did, Megatron had schooled his features into something more stoic and gave a short nod. His cassette pulsed pleasure/delight/yay! at him in field and glyph form, then winged inelegantly into the room. Presumably to find the best possible perch - not to find something and fashion pom-poms.

Megatron followed at a far more sedate pace, his spiked pauldrons shifting and rising as he rolled and flexed his arms and shoulders. It was strut-ingrained discipline to enter into combat with any opponent with the same calm resolve and focus. It was a habit of survival, and carried over into training as another lesson to be learnt.

The training-come-sparring room was spacious, with a high ceiling that afforded acrobatic maneuvers and storage cupboards set into the reinforced bulkhead, so any incidental weapons fire didn't ignite anything inside the ship. Fairwinds had made herself comfortable up on one of the metal beams crossing the ceiling, her body pitched forward and her plating puffed with enthusiasm.

Megatron turned to regard the femme, who had moved to the center of the room. There was a confidence to her movements and posture that was more genuine than he would have expected, but still feigned. He could think of several different ways to begin, and dismissed the majority of them immediately. Neither of them would benefit from Roulette being charged, thrown or otherwise assaulted; nor likely respond favourably to having a weapon tossed to her with the warning to defend herself.

Beginning a lesson in medias res, whilst a valid training technique, would not work here because this was not a training session. Not really.

This was about 'socialising', on doctor's orders. About interaction and engagement, stimulating his neural pathways to knit together through building new memories with fellow Decepticons.

"Within the scope of your current training," he began, coming to stand some thirty feet from her before beginning to circle her slowly, "How would you attack me?"