Ep 1 - Self-Assembly - Closed

[Deleted]

It was not difficult to find Megatron.

After his lord had disappeared back into the caves (and didn't THAT symbolism heat Ravage's energon....his leader retreating into the mines before Autobot aggression...), Ravage had waited until an opening had arrived for him to follow without being spotted. If the Autobots hadn't killed Megatron, they were not likely to break the peace on Ravage, but in his current state, he was not eager to test the theory.

The Decepticon leader was not being stealthy or particularly quiet. Ravage had followed his audials and then the vibrations through his pedes of metal hitting stone.

Ravage turned a final corner and found his quarry taking out his frustrations on the vein of energon in front of him. The space, obviously bored out by mining equipment until the vein had petered to something unworthy of the energon to extract it, was large and echoing around Ravage, but less so around Megatron.

Ravage stopped far enough back to avoid the waste stream of dreck from Megatron's efforts. His glyphs were marked for "patiently waiting for acknowledgment" rather than a request. "Sir."

[Deleted]

Megatronus had never been addressed as 'Sir' in the entirity of his existance, and it was that word more than the small mech's presence that had him cease tearing chunks of the planet apart with his bare servos. His talk with Optimus had left him... on edge.

Turning, the once-miner crushed a poor-quality energon crystal into powder in a grinding sweep of his thumb across his fingers. He met the red optical band peering up at him in the dark, only the faintest outlines highlighted on the - cassette's? - helm.

Bending to pick up one of the largest energon crystals from the pile, Megatronus approached the newcomer in four long strides and set the softly glowing material down as an ambiant torch. The mech's tail twitched, his helm tipped all the way back to meet his optics.

Megatronus knelt, resting one forearm across his thigh.

"You're one of Megatron's, I take it?"

[Deleted]

"Megatron's". Not "mine". That was understandable but disturbing nonetheless. Ravage had not been able to overhear Megatron's conversation with the Prime, but he could imagine that it had not given "Megatronus" a very good impression of "Megatron".

"I am," Ravage said, looking up into those wary red optics. "My name is Ravage, and though I know that it means little to you now, I am one of your most loyal followers."

He paused. Who knew how much time they would have before the Prime returned, or Cleaver, or Starscream with a null ray? He needed to be quick, but yet he knew what Soundwave's first directive would be: verify Megatron's physical and mental state. "Are you well, sir? Beyond the obvious, of course."

<<:was logged in as Ravage, so figured would advance this a bit.: Feel free to wait to get into anything specific until Watershed is done. >>

[Deleted]

Megatronus's optics drifted up along the tunnel, as if he could still read the trail of Optimus Prime's withdrawal like a vapour trail. His hands twitched towards fists, relaxing again as he looked back to Ravage.

A loyal follower. He wondered what that meant, really, in the context of everything he didn't know. If this mech had been sparked before the war and knew the campaign when it was still words; or if it was during the world-ending conflict, and his loyalty was a product of his carrier's loyalty to him. To Megatron.

What he knew of that mech had painted him a monster. That, though, had been out of the vocoders of the commander of the opposing faction and an ironically-violent-for-a-pacifist Neutral. To hear fealty to Megatron, to gain a perspective from one of 'his' soldiers, offered hope of the mech he'd apparently become being something at least decent. A warlord with reasoning behind his actions, not just sadism.

"Cleaver does good work," Megatronus ultimately replied, the thumb from his thigh-resting arm tracing a flick up his chassis. She wanted him back in the Medbay at some point soon to 'fix the scragging mess some half-clocked wrench had made'.

It was unusual to have optics the shade of his own staring back at him - listening, attentive. One optical ridge arched, and the gladiator's tone was mild. "Have you been sent to retrieve me?"

[Deleted]

Ravage relaxed a tiny bit, relaying the information to Soundwave. That was good. They had only to get the required data to Cleaver and keep Megatron safe until it could be restored. In a base now full of Autobots. How hard, Ravage thought wryly, could it be?

"I was sent to find you, yes," Ravage said. "You disappeared suddenly, and under suspicious circumstances. I and your cassette Fairwinds tracked you here. We were concerned."

All truths. Ravage was leery of telling Megatron more about the current state of Decepticon affairs until his memory was restored, but he saw no reason to lie. "I was also sent as reinforcements, sir. A guide and extra pair of optics, if you will."

Ravage sat on his haunches, considering Megatron's obvious tension. Not surprising, given who he had been talking to. "I have been a Decepticon from nearly the beginning, sir. I chose to follow you and have never regretted that decision. If you have any questions, you have only to ask them."

[Deleted]

It was a kinder offer from this stranger than he'd received from his 'former' brother, Megatronus observed. The tiny cassette was also radiating a kind of protectiveness, which confirmed words he could otherwise only take at face value.

More questions had been raised - what circumstances had triggered the memory loss chief among them, but presently the gladiator was more concerned with those that Optimus had left festering in the dark. Ravage's posture indicated that he was content and intending to stay as long as he was permitted. Optimus had wound him to the point of desperation and then left him cold. Walked away the klik he'd gotten the answer he'd sought and glowing with disappointment in the honesty.

Megatronus shifted slightly, optics moving over the purple insignia Ravage's frame bore. An adaption of the face of Primus. He'd begun applying the image in place of his designation stamp on material only recently, marking the growth of the movement to that of an informal organization that warranted its own identity. A name hadn't been finalised.

Apparently he'd settled on 'Decepticon', and it sounded proud and strong from Ravage's vocaliser. Certainly the Low caste had been victims of deception from the Towers, and trained from sparking to deceive themselves of their own worth.

The gladiator made a thoughtful sound, optics narrowing. Where in the Pit to start.

"Four million years is a long time to be ignorant of, particularly when it concerns the death of our world. The decimation and scattering of our kind," Megatronus began, his words steady and measured with weariness rather than intent. His systems had been off before Optimus had spoken to/confronted him, and sheer willpower could only carry him for so long.

"From the point when the revolution was still only words and the mob until now, tell me, how much of my original intent remains, when Optimus and Cleaver can only tell me of millions of lives lost?" Megatronus inclined his helm, hand tightening into a fist before forcibly relaxing once again.

"In short, Ravage - why are you loyal to me if I am even a shadow of the monster that these mecha have described Megatron to be?"

[Deleted]

Ravage huffed. "'Monster'. You are a student of history. Would you believe the history written by one side to be OBJECTIVE in its estimation of the other?"

The cassette considered Megatron's weary stance. He unsubspaced a cube of energon, transforming slowly into bipedal mode so that he might offer it with his hands.

His mission now was to keep Megatron safe. That included keeping him from making any rash decisions or actions because of half-understood or misconstrued information. Ravage needed Megatron to believe him, and though he was fairly certain that that would not be difficult, as Megatron WANTED to believe him, truth often came subconsciously easier from one as like one's self as possible. If much smaller.

"Cybertron is dark, yes, and our race has lost much, yes. But your goal remains intact. You formed the Decepticons as a force for change. An army to fight the system that ground them beneath its heel, and we have DONE that. In many ways, we have WON. The caste system is no more. The power structures that oppressed and subjugated us are now gone. In this, you have done our people perhaps the greatest service in the history of Cybertron, but of course that did not happen peacefully. Of course there were those who opposed change out of fear or momentum or inertia. Of course they died, as WE died, for what they chose to protect. That is war. And make no mistake, this is MY war as much as yours or Optimus Prime's. Mine, the soldiers', your officers' and his, everyone...we choose to fight it. If we did not, the Decepticon and Autobot ranks would empty, and Cleaver would have a lot less free space."

Ravage's field was by necessity not the most expressive, but he deliberately pulsed loyalty-support. "I am loyal to you because you fought for what was right. I am loyal to you because you defend, to this day, our right to choose our own fate, to have the strength and independence to lead and protect ourselves. I am loyal to you because you have dealt with your enemies as any must and sought to end this war at every turn. And when there is no more need to fight, I trust you to lead us, to rebuild a strong and stable home."

Ravage raised the cube. "That is why."

[Deleted]

Megatronus accepted the cube as the gesture it was, claw tips briefly grazing across Ravage's comparatively miniature digits as he pulsed a brief but sincere wave of gratitude. He was as well fueled as he was repaired, but taking the offered fuel from the mech was as much a reassuring balm as his words had been.

Optimus and Cleaver describe Megatron as a monster because of so many deaths. If the caste system is no more, though, then it was those who deserved to die that fell first. And of course Orion would have been grieved by that.

Because he never knew better. Never knew about mecha like Crashmaster, and how material and social comfort feeds and twists the appetites of sadists.

"I'm glad to hear that my goal to see the caste system abolished had been achieved, though with a more violent fallout than I can presently understand." He paused in bringing the cube to his mouth, optic crystals flickering. "Though, there is no greater equaliser than war."

Megatronus handed the drained cube back to Ravage with a short nod, relishing the smooth charge of fuel from a well built and maintained filter. Whatever equipment Cleaver was using to process the raw energon crystals was perfectly consumable, but it was far from pleasant. That in itself raised its own questions about the wart= - about the course of his Arena medic's place in it.

"Tell me of Optimus Prime."

The request fell out of his vocaliser unintended as his processor lapsed. He meant tell me what happened to Orion. He meant tell me how my brother, the pacifist data-bot, has become my equal as a warrior. And why he did not just surrender.

[Deleted]

Optimus Prime. Of COURSE his next question would be about Optimus Prime. Ravage squashed any evidence of his amusement, though, as he organized his thoughts. Honestly, it wasn't funny.

Ravage was, briefly, tempted to lie. He had started his function as an analyst. He could see the line that Megatronus was treading, unsure and uninformed. Ravage had been honestly frightened by how the Prime had gotten to talk to Megatronus first. Megatronus, as he'd so obviously shown when they'd first met in the atrium, thought of Prime as a brother, a friend. The Prime could have ruthlessly taken advantage of that, but either the Prime had not tried or it had not gone well.

Sitting at the edge of Megatronus' field now, feeling the confusion and betrayal and the appreciation of even a small gesture of kindness and support, Ravage thought the Prime a fool. But then, Prime's and Megatron's relationship had always been...highly emotional.

And so, Ravage was tempted to lie. He had a suspicion, though, that he would not need to. Not when so much could be gained by careful statement of the facts.

"Orion Pax was chosen as a Prime by the Council. They charged him with finding the Matrix of Leadership, hoping to bolster public support through him. As the revolution progressed, he was the one sent to quell it." Ravage subspaced the empty cube and waved his hand dismissively. "He did much better, I think, than the Council expected from a librarian. There was talk, even, that they sent him on the impossible missions in the hope that he would not return. He surprised them. He grew skilled in his own right: in tactics, in leadership, in warcraft, in metal and mesh. He had to. His life depended on it. He fought enemies both across the battlefield and behind his own front lines. Eventually, he even found the Matrix he sought, and the Matrix reformatted him into Optimus Prime."

Ravage thought for a moment, "In the process, he has convinced himself that he is still on the right side. He believes that he is the defender of freedom and the protector of what needs protecting, yet the Autobots have as many massacres and atrocities to their names as the Decepticons. Still, he fights an increasingly losing battle, throwing away yet more lives in the process. He fights and kills to protect his holdings while condemning the Decepticons for doing the same. He appears to not notice the contradiction."

<<Let me know if there's anything you want him in particular to touch on. Selective!kitteh is selective. >>

[Deleted]

The cassette's remarks about Optimus, though coloured with the dismissives of an opposing side, were exactly what Megatronus had expected at their core. Undying faith, blinkered loyalty to what was 'right', even when his reformatting as a warrior had begun with fools erands by the very mecha he sought to protect. Megatronus could well believe that the Council would elect a puppet Prime, direct him as if a drone, and then see him deactivated through impossible odds before he became unmanageable.

There were more questions. Four million years worth, the answers to which would all be skewed out of context. A time period that large, and a conflict so massive, could not be adequately described in mere conversation. However what little Megatronus had been told thus far crystalised the major points: that Optimus Prime's agenda ran parrallel to his own, differing in attitude and ethics above all else; that his campaign still held to its core roots; and that with so much lost, the conflict had turned into a feral scrap where Optimus was as unwilling to give quarter than Megatron was.

In Megatronus's processor, that was all the information he needed to manage until either his memories could be returned, or Cleaver discharged him to his own devices. He could not let Optimus sway him, and could not trust him as he had Orion.

Megatronus rose with a rumble of air and machinery, hands flexing into loose fists as the clean energon raced through his lines. The pile of raw crystals drew his gaze.

"This planet was seeded with energon many vorns ago," he began, wondering aloud at the forsight of hoarding fuel on alien worlds and leaving it to slowly amass. Energon replenished itself so slowly as to barely be considered a renewable resource outside of Cybertron. He had mined offworld where the blood of Primus had been scattered in combat with Unicron, but the veins had never been so strong as within their homeworld.

Before Megatronus could continue, to inquire why the commanders of the war had come to this organic, weakly-inhabited world above all others, a new EM entered the tunnel.

"It's taken here better than anywhere else," Cleaver replied, her angular pedes carrying her to stand a little behind Ravage. Her optics ran over the mech momentarily, cool and distant, before snapping back up to Megatronus. "Something here that the crystals like. The Autobots arrived here first, and the Decepticons followed. Whether that was over the fuel, I've got no idea."

The medic set a blade into the ground, resting her weight into the sunken tip with a hiss of hydraulics. "Need to have you back in the Medbay if you two are done chatting, Megatronus. Still need to sort out that mess in your chassis that's throwing errors like a neural-line infection of cosmic rust."

[Deleted]

They were, of course, far from done, but Ravage was pleased with Megatron's reactions. His field had modulated with wry understanding and a settling sort of resignation and...purpose. Yes. Good. He did not, Ravage thought, need to fear anymore that the librarian would recruit Megatron to his side.

Ravage stood, stalking over to stand to the side and just behind Megatron in a clear position of support. It was an accustomed place, and it felt good to occupy it again. He said nothing aloud, merely pinging Megatron with the current encrypted Decepticon comm protocols and then sending over them. ::Soundwave is apprised of the situation and will deliver/send a back-up of your memory core. We have your back, sir.::

[Deleted]

Megatronus inclined his helm with a rumble of assent, though his optics and attention remained on Ravage as that private assurance slid against his comms. Soundwave was a name he knew - his patron-to-be and the most powerful supporter of his campaign. And stil loyal after all this time. If the gladiator could count on anymech to aid him, it was him.

His memories were to be delivered. Megatronus was uncertain if he felt relieved or uneasy about that. He would be restored, but to a mech he didn't know. He, as he was now, would cease to exist, and likely Megatron and Optimus would go straight back to trying to kill each other.

But then, there was no place for him in this universe. Cybertron, Orion, everything he knew was destroyed or warped almost beyond recognition. On top of that, he was encumbered with the legacy of a mech whom many of their surviving kind would wish to see dead.

Electing to focus on the other disconcerting matter - that of his, to use Cleaver's term, 'butchered' spark - for now, Megatronus turned with a half step as indication that he would follow her back up the tunnel. It seemed fitting that the four million years of memory that he lost began after coming to the medic with his spark-casing wounds from Crashmaster, and ended with the same repairs being required.


<fin - unless Ravage would like to close?>

[Deleted]

And following at his heels, silent and dark and in the shadows as much as possible all the way back to the medbay, was Ravage.

::Primary mission...,:: he pulsed with satisfaction to Soundwave. ::...accomplished.::


FIN!